Ella's War

by Lynne Francis

  John’s days, at least, proved to be better than his nights. When not with his governess he didn’t like to let Ella far from his sight. Once a few months had passed and he seemed more settled, Ella began to feel that his view of the world was being too restricted as her duties confined her mainly to the house at weekends. It was during a shopping trip to town for Mrs Dawson that she spotted a crowd gathered around a brightly coloured bill posted up in the market. With a sinking heart, Ella realised that once again her deficiency in reading was going to let her down. The poster showed a lion of very noble appearance, an elephant and a host of exotic-looking creatures, not all of which Ella recognised, set in a wild and dramatic landscape. These were all placed around the edge of a central scene featuring what appeared to be the interior of a giant tent filled with people, with caged animals set all around. Ella, turning away in disappointment at her inability to understand anything beyond the pictures, paused, arrested by the conversation next to her.

  ‘Next week, does it say?’ The girl next to her was standing on tiptoe and craning her neck to see over the crowd.

  ‘Aye, on Knavesmire for the week,’ her companion replied. ‘A menagerie and a fairground. Reckon it’ll make a good day out. I’ll tell Ma and we can take the nippers.’ Her friend smiled at Ella as they turned to leave and included her in the general remark. ‘About time we had a bit of fun.’

  Ella smiled back, delighted to have acquired the information. It turned out to be unnecessary though, for within a day or two the wagons started rolling in and setting up on the great open space opposite the house, much to Mr Ward’s disgust.

  ‘We’ll have a week of noise and nonsense, that’s for sure,’ he complained to Mrs Sugden. ‘Keep all the doors locked and the windows closed, and be on the watch for any unsavoury characters hanging about.’

  Ella’s heart sank when Mr Ward’s views were reported back by Mrs S. The servants were beside themselves with excitement at the prospect of a fair right on their doorstep, with wild beasts camped on the racecourse. They had arranged their time off in pairs so that they could visit of an evening. Ella had decided to forego an evening visit so that she could take John on the final Saturday afternoon. But would Mr Ward be prepared to give his permission?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Throughout the weekend, more sideshows rumbled in on great carts and wagons. The early spring sunshine glinted on the gilded frontages and a clamour of hammering, shouts and snatches of music drifted towards the house. The maids spent increasing amounts of time cleaning the interior of the windows at the front of the house and taking the curtains down for shaking and washing. ‘Spring cleaning,’ they said, but it allowed them to report back in great excitement about the developments on site.

  Doris had seen other bills posted up around town. ‘There’s to be waxworks, fire-eaters, swingboats, a shooting gallery. And ghosts!’ she declared.

  A tent had gone up in the centre of the ground, flaunting pennants fluttering in the wind and clearly visible from Grange House. Mr Ward glared out of his library window and declared it to be ‘A travesty and an abomination’. He had seen himself as a forward-thinking man, leading the way in building outside the walls of the ancient city, but he hadn’t bargained on Knavesmire, which normally provided such a serene outlook, playing host to a fairground on his doorstep.

  He turned away from the window. ‘I imagine the servants will wish to attend?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Ward. Everyone is very excited.’ Mrs Sugden was firm. It might not be to Mr Ward’s taste but she was not going to give him the chance to forbid them. She would have a mutiny on her hands.

  ‘And John?’ Mr Ward’s direct question caught Mrs Sugden off guard.

  ‘Yes… no… that is…’ she decided to take the bull by the horns. ‘I do believe Ella would like to take him on Saturday if you would give permission. He’s talked of nothing else since the first wagon arrived and he’s had his nose pressed to the bedroom window at every opportunity.’

  ‘Then he must go. But in the afternoon and for a short time only. They must be home well before dusk, before there is a danger from any bad elements.’ Mr Ward looked pensive for a moment then said, ‘I’m sure I can rely on Ella to look after him as if he were her own.’

  ‘Indeed, I’m sure she will,’ Mrs Sugden said firmly.

  In the event, Mr Ward was so irritated by the presence of the fair that he chose to stay over in Leeds until it was gone, so Ella felt able to interpret his wishes a little more liberally. The visits to the fair by other members of the household, and the tales with which they had returned had whetted her appetite, but she was ill-prepared for the size of the crowd drawn there on the Saturday afternoon. The fame of the fair, the break from work and the sunny weather had pulled in people from far and wide.

  John shrank back when he saw the crush in front of the menagerie and Ella felt more than a little daunted too but, forewarned by Doris and Rosa, she knew what to do. She gripped John’s hand tightly and drew him towards the stalls that lined the edge of the ground.

  ‘Let’s have a look here first. The menagerie has timed shows, so once all those people have gone in we should be able to buy tickets for the next one. So I’d say now is a good time to take a look at the side shows.’

  And what a lot there was to see! Ella could barely take it all in and John, tempted by everything, couldn’t decide how to spend the pennies he had brought with him. First, they stood and watched the people on the swingboats, screaming in delight and fear as they rocked faster and higher.

  ‘Not for us, I think,’ said Ella, and steered John onwards towards the shooting range. Again, they stood and watched for a bit, but it was beginning to dawn on Ella that there might not be much here suitable for a small boy to try. It was a relief when John spotted the coconut shy; something for both of them. Although Ella flung the wooden balls as hard as she could they fell uselessly to the ground, having completely missed their target. John had a better aim and did manage to rock a coconut, rather destroying Rosa’s theory that they were all glued to their stands.

  ‘Good shot!’ Ella said admiringly. ‘I think you might have the makings of a cricketer.’ She was pleased to see John look genuinely happy at the compliment, despite the lack of a prize. Since the crowd had now moved into the menagerie tent, Ella was able to talk persuasively to the ticket seller and acquire advance tickets for the next performance.

  ‘It’s a two-hour wait, though,’ Ella warned. ‘Let’s see how we can fill the time.’

  They both felt more at ease amongst the crowds now, and were happy to take their time and look around. Ella marvelled at the way in which the larger shows were decorated. Broad steps led up to the entrances, which were surrounded by gilded pillars supporting the painted façades. The steps acted as a showcase for performers intent on drawing the crowds into parting with their money to gain entrance, and painted panels depicted mythical scenes related in some small way to the performances.

  Ella and John stood for some time in front of the Bioscope moving picture house, listening to the barrel organ play through its repertoire. Ella was very curious about the show but was content to admire the enormous amount of decoration outside. Gold curlicues framed the painted panels next to classical statues of ladies in draperies, which would never pass muster in polite society, bearing great bowls overflowing with plaster fruit set on their heads.

  They paused before the ghost house, where the paintings and ornamentation were of a much darker hue. Here a man at the top of the steps, beating a huge drum strapped to his chest, winked at Ella and shouted down to her to ‘bring the little man inside for a right good fright!’ Ella fixed John’s hand firmly in hers and pulled him away. His imagination didn’t require any further stimulation: it was quite vivid enough already. Luckily, they found the switchback, which promised to be much more suitable. It was situated just behind the ghost house, the music from its central barrel organ threatening to drown out the banging of the drum. Passengers were already s
treaming down the steps from the cars and Ella and John were too slow to find themselves a seat.

  ‘Don’t worry, we can watch this time around and we’ll be sure to get a seat for the next ride,’ Ella reassured John. As the music started up, the gilded carriages moved off, slowly at first. The passengers laughed and waved at the observers on the ground. Then the speed increased, the hinged sections of the platform beginning to rise and fall as it rotated, faster and faster, until the faces were just a blur as they sped past. Delighted screams from the passengers could be heard above the music but no sooner had it reached full speed then it was slowing down again.

  ‘Get ready!’ Ella warned John. The ride came to a halt and the passengers, rather dizzy now, were struggling to their feet as the chain across the steps was drawn back to allow them off. The waiting would-be riders surged forward but Ella was quick off the mark. She darted up the side of the steps, John close behind her, and around the back of the switchback. They hovered politely for a moment or two to allow a rather stout lady and her companion to descend from their carriage. Ella had a proprietorial hand on the carved, curved edge of the carriage, staking her claim. Her heart started to thump hard in her chest as it looked as though there might be competition for the seats but they managed to slide in behind the previous occupants while others circled the perimeter, disappointed, before being turned away to await another chance.

  ‘Hold tight,’ Ella advised as the music began again. The operator swung his way from carriage to carriage, collecting their fares as the switchback began its first slow revolution. She got a thrill from watching the envious faces of those awaiting their turn, and soon she began to feel the wind in her hair as the pace picked up. John gripped her hand tightly on the bar in front and soon they were both screaming loudly, and laughing at the same time, along with everyone else on the ride. Now the faces outside were just a blur and it felt as though they were riding the crest of a wave and then plunging to the depths as the switchback lived up to its name. When the ride began to slow Ella wasn’t sure whether she was pleased or disappointed but John looked delighted.

  ‘Can we stay on and ride again? Please?’

  Ella, trying to stand on what she was surprised to discover were rather shaky legs, shook her head. ‘Let’s give someone else a turn and try another ride. We can always come back.’

  It was a struggle to make their way through the oncoming rush of riders and down the steps on their now rather wobbly legs. Ella was intent on reaching the gallopers, the wonderful painted and carved horses that were rising and falling on the next carousel ride, when John tugged at her arm.

  ‘Someone is calling you,’ he said.

  ‘Me?’ Ella, surprised, stopped suddenly, causing people behind her to bump into them. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised to a grumpy man and his wife who went on their way muttering about ‘folks who can’t watch where they’re going.’

  ‘Where, John?’ Ella asked, before hearing her name called clearly over the noise of the crowd. Frowning, she turned this way and that to locate the source, until suddenly she was aware of a couple at her elbow.

  ‘I thought it was you! I said as much to Violet.’ There stood Albert, unchanged since Ella had last seen him six months ago, with a petite dark-haired woman on his arm. Ella quickly took in her deep burgundy figure-hugging costume and her rather sour expression.

  ‘Albert! Whatever are you doing here?’ Ella’s heart, only just restored to its normal beat after the heady excitement of the switchback, was pounding furiously again.

  ‘This fair is famous for miles around. Violet had never been; I had business in York, and so it seemed like the perfect opportunity.’

  Albert looked very pleased to see her, Violet less so. ‘We were waiting our turn on the switchback and I spotted you going by. I could hardly believe my eyes.’ Albert turned towards John and looked questioningly at Ella. ‘Won’t you introduce us?’

  ‘Oh, of course.’ Ella was covered in confusion. ‘This is John Ward, the son of my employer. He’s in my charge for the afternoon. John, this is Albert Spencer. I’ve known him since I was about your age. Your father knows him too; they’ve worked together.’

  John and Albert smiled at each other, then there was an awkward pause. Violet needed introducing, to John at least. Albert seemed to collect himself. He addressed himself reluctantly to Ella. ‘I believe you two already know each other,’ he said, indicating Violet. He turned to John. ‘This is my wife, Violet.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ John said politely. Ella hoped his words had disguised her involuntary gasp. Albert married! And so soon.

  ‘Congratulations,’ she managed to stammer out. ‘I had no idea.’

  Violet spoke for the first time. ‘At the start of the year,’ she said, and patted Albert’s arm in a proprietorial fashion. ‘Now, we mustn’t keep you. It’s quite clear this young man is eager to be off. And we must go back and await our turn on the switchback.’

  Ella, feeling very uncomfortable, was only too keen to be on her way.

  ‘Goodbye. It was lovely to see you… both.’ She wondered whether her pause was as obvious as it had sounded to her ears. Had she meant it to be? She wasn’t sure.

  She shepherded John towards the gallopers, looking back over her shoulder as she did so. She caught Albert doing the same thing as he headed towards the switchback, Violet purposeful at his side. Ella’s eyes locked with Albert’s for a moment and the shock of it caused her to look sharply away and swallow hard.

  John looked up at her enquiringly but she was quick to point to the crowd in front of the gallopers.

  ‘Are you ready?’ she said, hoping there was no give-away tremor in her voice as a result of the encounter with Albert and Violet. ‘It looks as though we’ll need sharp elbows.’ They had to wait out two full rides before they were at the front of the crowd, by which time Ella had been able to marshal her emotions whilst watching the rise and fall of the beautifully painted horses on their gilded barley-sugar-twist poles. The jolly music jarred with the mood the encounter had produced. She had hoped never to see Albert again, never to have to imagine where he might be or who he might be with. Married, barely six months since she had last seen him and after less than three months of courtship, if Violet’s words were true! It had taken her cruelly by surprise. Sarah hadn’t mentioned it once in her letters in all that time.

  The surge of would-be riders jolted her out of her reverie. This time John was ahead of her, tugging at her hand. He had his eye on a pair of particularly splendid horses, nostrils flaring and eyes wide, teeth bared as if to whinny, or to smile perhaps. Although others were in competition for the same mounts, Ella was impressed to see John win the day. He made a mock bow and handed her up into the saddle before quickly hopping onto his own galloper as the operator swung around the poles towards them, collecting their fares. As Ella reached into her pocket John quickly said, ‘No, my treat,’ and counted out the coins into the man’s palm.

  ‘Thank you, young sir,’ the man said, smiling at Ella. John’s actions helped to erase the awkwardness with Albert from her mind and, as the gallopers picked up pace, she gave herself over to the enjoyment of the moment, riding high above the heads of the crowd. This time, she was the one who didn’t want the ride to end but as it slowed on its last circuit she saw the crowds starting to stream towards the menagerie and cries of: ‘Roll up for the greatest wild beast show on earth!’ could be heard, carried on the wind above the jangling music of the barrel organs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The excitement was already building as the crowd in front of the menagerie listened to the showman promise them, ‘Wild beasts such as they had never seen before, right here in front of them in York, if they would only step inside the biggest auditorium the city had ever seen.’

  ‘Look at the paintings, John.’ Lions, zebras, tigers, giraffes and elephants adorned the façade, grazing by waterholes in exotic landscapes or, in the case of the lions and tigers, dominated by men clad in re
d-velvet jackets and white breeches, armed with whips. The menagerie had the grandest gilded pillars to be seen anywhere on site, the biggest plaster curlicues and statues designed to outdo all the rest. The trainers paraded up and down the steps, thrusting out their chests so that their velvet jackets strained the gold frogging, and cracked their whips menacingly to encourage the ‘ooohs’ and ‘aaahs’ of the crowd.

  As they pushed their way towards the entrance, John suddenly looked doubtful.

  ‘What’s inside?’ he asked, starting to shrink back.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Ella said. ‘We’ll soon find out. But don’t worry, the animals aren’t going to be loose. I have a feeling that the show they are putting on outside might be rather more spectacular than anything we see inside.’

  Still, it was with a sense of trepidation that they mounted the steps and found themselves entering a great canvas-roofed space. It was dimly lit after the brightness of the sunny afternoon and the powerful odour of sawdust, animals and an overheated crowd made Ella catch her breath. She laughed at John who was making a face and holding his nose.

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ she said. ‘Let’s have a look around.’ The auditorium was lined all around the edges with wagons of animals. She could see big cats pacing behind the wooden bars of their cages, but the spectators were prevented from drawing too close and instead had to shuffle their way past wagons of exotic creatures. Monkeys swung from the bars within their cage and seemed to be making faces at those gawping in at them. A bear, hunched in the corner of the wagon next door, glared out at them. He looked perfectly capable of demolishing the bars that secured him with one swipe of his giant paws. Ella shuddered and moved John swiftly on. Brilliantly coloured birds fluttered and squawked in the next wagon, hopping from perch to perch and quarrelling.