‘Christ, Tulley!’ Joseph Purcell gasped after a long silence. ‘The place is falling apart! What happened to cause this?’ Raising a hand to ward off the excuse Fred would inevitably come up with, Joseph went on, ‘Don’t bother…’
Fred nodded as he awaited his fate, his gaze sweeping the faces before him.
Purcell glanced at his colleagues and then back to the Master. ‘Well, this puts a whole new light on things. You know, of course, that we are unable to keep you on as Master of this institution.’ It was not a question.
Fred Tulley spluttered his reply, ‘But, sir, I have nowhere else to go! I only know this work… what will I do?’
Purcell snapped, ‘You should have thought of that before! I have no doubt you have money hidden away that will prevent you from becoming an inmate here yourself!’
Tulley sighed loudly as he shook his head. ‘Ada took all my money. I don’t have two halfpennies to rub together.’ The lie slipped easily from his lips. He said nothing of the household funds which he kept securely locked away in his desk, something to fall back on should the need arise.
‘Hellfire and damnation!’ Purcell yelled. ‘I suggest you get out there and find that thieving drunkard of a wife! You will have to sort yourself out, man! We will give you until the end of January… then you’re out!’
The Board members stood as one and filed out of the room. They would have to place an advertisement in the local newspaper for a new Master and Matron, not to mention a cook, doctor and schoolmaster, none of which having yet been filled… more expense. Purcell doubted very much that anyone would be interested in taking up the posts. His plan to marry Cara and inherit her fortune was being pushed back at every turn, and this was a setback he could have done without. He muttered as he left the building, ‘Cara Flowers will love this when she finds out!’
*
Joseph decided it was time to meet with Isaac Ballard, Chairman of the Local Government Board, the man who had appointed him and the other members of the Board of Guardians. He telephoned for an appointment and was told he could attend immediately.
Isaac rubbed his whiskers as he listened to the man sat at the other side of his desk.
‘The cook of the workhouse was the first to go,’ Joseph explained. ‘Then the doctor quit. Soon after, the schoolmaster and now the Matron has walked out!’
‘I see,’ Isaac said, ‘then we must place advertisements in the newspapers for replacements.’
‘No one will take up those posts, Isaac, you know as well as I that folk fear and hate the place. Besides, there’s been no one forthcoming up until now.’
‘Quite so,’ Ballard nodded.
‘It’s all that woman’s fault!’ Purcell’s temper was rising yet again.
‘Which woman would that be?’ Isaac felt he should ask, although he knew precisely who Joseph was referring to. He could see the other man becoming more and more agitated, and he was enjoying the discomfort. Truth be told, he had never much liked Joseph Purcell.
‘Cara bloody Flowers! She’s intent on emptying the workhouse of its inmates! She is providing work and homes for those signing out. She’s buying up all available properties for just that reason. Isaac, she must be stopped!’
‘Well now, I don’t see how.’ Ballard watched calmly as Purcell fumed.
‘If she continues and does manage to empty the place, I’ll be out of the job of Chairman of the Board!’ Joseph’s voice rose in angst.
‘Agreed. But you are still the Magistrate of Bilston, Joseph, quite a prestigious position, I’m sure you’ll agree.’ Seeing the other man nod, Isaac went on, ‘So the loss of your post as Chairman would not be unduly distressing, should it come to the put-to.’ Joseph waggled his head from side to side as if undecided. ‘Therefore, my advice is to sit by and wait. It may be that we can find new staff. As for myself, I have no real need to work. As you know, I am a very wealthy man and look forward to the day when I can relinquish my role here. However, people will always be in the situation where they might well accept a ticket from the Relieving Officer. For myself, the loss of the workhouse will not be unduly distressing, although I do understand that should it close down, the poor of the town will have nowhere to go.’
‘But what if they’re not in that situation? What if they keep refusing a ticket? What if she succeeds in emptying the workhouse?’ Purcell railed.
‘Then, my dear Joseph, you will indeed find yourself out of the position of Chairman of the Board of Guardians!’
Isaac Ballard smiled as Purcell left his office, slamming the door behind him.
*
Sitting by his fire in the parlour of Brueton House, Purcell sipped his whisky and brooded. Cara’s pretty face loomed in his mind’s eye and he felt his pulse rate quicken in anger. What he wouldn’t give to have an hour with her… just the two of them! He would show her where a woman’s place should be. Women should be at home, not annoying men who go out to work for a living!
As he thought on the matter he realized his real grievance was now personal. It seemed petty, but his reputation as Chairman was on the line here, and he would not allow this young woman to best him. Cara was playing him like a fiddle, whether she knew it or not.
As he gazed into the dancing flames of the fire, thinking about Cara Flowers, his mind slipped back to his formative years. His father had died when he was a young boy. Joseph had grown up in a house full of women. His mother had been extremely strict and his five sisters had bullied him at every opportunity. His young life had been miserable, and he had thought, as his sisters had been married off, that things would improve for him. However, as time passed, his mother had turned brutal in her strictness; he suffered constant beatings. Working hard at school, he determined one day he would make something of himself. He would be a man who would be shown respect; he would have a high social standing. Once he attained that, he would be a man of means. He remembered the death of his mother and his misery had been lifted. But the damage had already been done. Joseph Purcell had no time for women, unless of course, they could be used to further his career or add to his finances.
Twenty-Six
The day of her appointment with the Chairman of the Local Government Board had arrived and Cara looked into the twinkling blue eyes of the man sat behind his desk. An older man with a kindly face covered with white whiskers. Isaac Ballard.
Martin Lander, in his role of solicitor, sat to Cara’s left and Bertha Jenkins and Dr Joshua Cooper sat to her right.
After introductions, Mr Ballard asked, ‘What is it you think I can help you with, Miss Flowers?’ He was fully conversant with this young woman’s good works with the poor of the town, as well as her dealings with the workhouse after his meeting with Joseph Purcell.
‘Mr Ballard,’ Cara began, ‘not only have these good people resigned their posts at the workhouse…’ her arm swept to the doctor and Bertha, ‘but it has now come to my attention that the Matron has deserted her post also.’
Isaac Ballard’s eyebrows lifted involuntarily. How had she found that out? He only knew himself a matter of days ago.
Cara continued confidently, ‘I am sure you have heard of my dealings with the Master, Fred Tulley, and also that I have relieved the institution of a good many of its residents.’ Isaac nodded in confirmation. ‘Now, Mr Ballard, Mr Lander informs me that as the Matron has left, the Master must be dismissed should a replacement Matron not be found.’ Cara waited for her words to sink in.
‘That is correct, Miss Flowers.’ Ballard’s eyes smiled. He was impressed by this young woman.
‘I believe there are very few inmates left in the “Spike”…’ She deliberately used the derogatory term, leaving the man in no doubt what she thought of the place. ‘…and I’m under no illusion that you do not know of my intentions regarding those inmates.’
‘Indeed, Miss Flowers, there is not a person in the town who is not aware of your intentions. However, what is it that you want from me?’ Ballard pursed his lips as he awaite
d her answer.
Cara gave the man a disarming smile. ‘May I ask what you intend to do with an empty workhouse?’
‘It is not empty, Miss Flowers.’ Ballard laughed, surprised at her question.
‘But it will be, Mr Ballard… and very soon!’ Cara smiled again.
Isaac Ballard drew in a deep breath, weighing up the girl in front of him. She meant what she said – she was going to empty the workhouse of its last inmates. In his heart he hoped she would succeed, but in his mind loomed the destitute people of the town.
‘Well now,’ he said, ‘should that prove to be the case, and providing no others are admitted, we would have to make a decision regarding the building. I am drawn to conclude from your question that you have something in mind? I have to add, I’m very curious what that might be.’
‘I do indeed, Mr Ballard,’ Cara said. She had decided not to divulge the details, having learned her lesson the hard way from Purcell. ‘Be assured the men left in that awful place are awaiting my word. Once received, they will sign themselves out and your building will be a relic.’
Isaac Ballard cast a glance at the doctor then at Bertha. ‘May I ask why you resigned from your posts – I have been given an explanation but would prefer to hear it from yourselves.’
Bertha Jenkins tearfully related the cuts in food rations, the sickness of the children and finished with the death of Liza Townsend’s little girl. Dr Cooper confirmed Bertha’s words, adding that neither of their posts had yet been filled, nor that of the schoolmaster.
Cara then explained her visit from Joseph Purcell. Ballard listened without interruption. It was proving the workhouse problems involved far more than Ballard had been led to believe.
‘You are aware, Miss Flowers, I’m sure, that the workhouse building is owned by the Council, and until it is actually completely empty of its inmates… with no possibility of more being admitted… there is nothing I can do for you.’ Isaac watched Cara’s face closely for a response. Yet again he was surprised at her reaction. He had expected her to either shout and bawl about how unfair it all was, or to burst into floods of tears. She did neither.
‘Could you tell me then, what exactly you would do with the workhouse building if that scenario proved to be the case?’ She pressed. Cara was giving no quarter and maintained her calm demeanour throughout the discussions.
‘Well… erm… I suppose… we’d have to sell it off, otherwise it would be standing empty and going to waste.’ Ballard knew she had him.
‘Thank you for meeting with us, Mr Ballard, it has been very informative.’ Cara calmly rose from her seat and extended her hand. After a firm handshake the little group walked from the office, leaving a baffled Isaac Ballard stroking his whiskers.
He wondered what she would do now; whatever it was, he aimed to keep a keen eye on the situation, as well as the delightful young woman he had just spoken with. Smiling to himself, he secretly wished her every success in her endeavours.
In the cab back to The Laburnums, Cara said, ‘My friends, get your thinking caps on, we need to get the rest of those men out of the workhouse and into a home and work as soon as possible!’
*
In the meantime, Fred Tulley looked out onto the snow-laden exercise yard. He had until the end of January to find a Matron and to ensure more people entered the workhouse. Why were people not taking up the tickets offered by the Relieving Officer? It was Tulley’s guess the man wasn’t trying hard enough; in fact, looking at the weather, Fred wondered if the man was even leaving his fireside.
Rubbing his aching arm where Ada had stabbed him, he wondered where his wife was now. Not only had she physically wounded him but she’d run off with his money. Regardless, he had to think about himself and what he would do now.
Turning to look through another window, he watched the men crushing bone and stone in the yard. Shivering, he moved to pile more coal on the fire. Without doing so, he finally made his decision and strode from the room. Marching down the cold dark corridor, he opened the door leading to the bone crushing yard and whistled loudly. As the men looked up, Tulley hooked a finger and the men trooped inside shivering, their thin clothes no match for the cold that seeped to the bone.
‘Come with me,’ Tulley said.
They followed the Master to the warm kitchen. Much to the men’s surprise, Tulley gave a key to one of the men and motioned to the large pantry.
‘I’m off out of this bloody place!’ Spinning on his heel, he walked out, leaving men with open mouths behind him.
‘What the hell is going on?’ one said.
‘I don’t care,’ said another, ‘let’s get warm and have something to eat, I’m bloody starving!’
Returning to his fireside, Fred realized his time here was definitely up now. He would do as Ada had done and flit. Let the bloody Board of Guardians find out on their next visit, for he had no intention of informing them he was leaving.
Throwing clothes into a carpet bag, Tulley pocketed the household funds kept locked away in his desk. He was very glad now that he had not told Ada about where he’d kept them hidden. Then he stepped quietly out into the snow. The porter opened the gate and Tulley nodded as he passed through. He walked away without a backward glance. The Porter stared after him; he knew the workhouse had had its day, its closure was not far off which would see him out of a job. He shook his head and walked back to the warmth of his tiny lodge, concern for his future etching his face.
*
Bertha Jenkins rushed through the front door of Cara’s house, shaking snow from her woollen shawl. ‘Where’s Cara?’ She asked a surprised Molly, who indicated the direction of the kitchen.
‘Cara… Cara… Oh you’ll never guess… Tulley’s left the workhouse!’ Bertha gasped.
‘What? Bertha, how do you know? Are you sure?’ Cara was aghast.
‘Ar, the gate porter told Mrs Johnson, who told…’ Bertha puffed.
Cara looked at Gracie and let out a whoop of delight. ‘Bertha, that’s marvellous, but what about the men left there?’
Bertha related what she knew and Cara remembered the words spoken by Isaac Ballard at their meeting.
‘…until it is actually completely empty of its inmates, with no possibility of more being admitted…’
The place was not empty, there were still men in there! Until they were moved out, her hands were tied.
‘Ladies, we need to get the men out and quickly, otherwise our plan could fail! If we intend to close down the workhouse, then it must be empty, with the certainty that no more people will enter!’ Cara began to pace the kitchen.
‘Where could they go, though?’ Gracie asked.
‘I know if I asked they would vacate that building, but the very fact they were in there in the first place proves they have nowhere else to go!’ The worry showed on her face as she continued to pace.
Excitement that her plan of closing the ‘Spike’ was almost at an end and worry it may be thwarted at the last turn fused in her brain. She had to think clearly now… and fast.
Twenty-Seven
The workhouse porter had watched both the Matron and the Master leave and then had made his own decision. Stepping through the gate, he locked it securely behind him and trudged away over the snow. Coming to an old house in Cemetery Row, he banged on the door. Being shown into the living room, he and the Relieving Officer sat before the fire to discuss their futures.
‘Old Tulley left the “Spike” this afternoon,’ the Porter said.
The other man nodded, ‘I guessed he would. So what do we do now then, Frank?’
The Porter answered with a shrug of his shoulders, ‘Well, our jobs are on the line, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t feel the need to be out in the bitter cold all day with no thanks for my effort.’
‘Me neither, but… there’s no work out there if we quit.’ The Relieving Officer looked worried.
However, after an hour’s discussion they came to a mutual decision – they would quit the
n they would seek out Cara Flowers and request employment from her. Surely she would help them; she always found an answer to a problem.
Unlocking the gate once more, he strode inside the building. Hearing the men’s voices, he followed the sound. The chatter stopped and all eyes turned to him when he walked into the dormitory. He silently laid the keys on an empty bed. Muttering ‘good luck’, he turned and walked out. He vowed to himself to never return to the place as long as he lived.
The men let out a whoop as they watched the man leave and they jumped up and, throwing their arms around each other, danced a quick waltz around the room. Then, just as quickly, their discussions turned to what would happen now. There were no staff now, they knew, and with the gate unlocked, they could come and go as they pleased. If they left, where would they go? There was no work in the town, and none of them had homes to go to. Whilst they were still in this building, they had coal and food supplies, but how much longer would that last? They had to get a message to Cara Flowers. Each man then wrapped himself in as many blankets as he could and they all walked free from the place that had held them prisoner for so long.
*
Molly answered the knock to the door and led the two men into the parlour. Explaining they had quit the workhouse, the porter and Relieving Officer watched the shocked expression on Cara’s face.
‘So, what you’re telling me is that there are no staff in there at present, is that right?’
Both men nodded in unison.
Frank, the Porter, said, ‘Miss Flowers we need some work now that we’ve quit the “Spike”. Are you able to help? Please, we’ll take on anything.’
‘Gentlemen,’ Cara answered, ‘I’m afraid I have nothing for you as yet, but if you can bear with me, I will do my best for you.’ She saw the men slump in their chairs. She went on, ‘It is my plan to get the remaining men out of the workhouse and into work. Once I have achieved that goal I then intend to buy the building and turn it into living accommodation. So, if you don’t mind doing some labouring, there will be work there for you.’
The Workhouse Children Page 19