by Anna Jacobs
“Y’re a good woman, Em’ly.” John was a happier and more relaxed man nowadays. A man needed a wife. He’d loved Lucy, but it was hard to sleep alone. He didn’t love Emily in the same way and she could be a bit sharp at times, but she was a good woman too and would be a mother to his children. Look at the way she’d sorted young Lizzie out! No more tantrums and waywardness. It needed a grown woman to care for a child of that age. And now, all this thought for Annie, wanting to do the best for her. He was a lucky man and he thanked the Lord for leading him along the path to salvation.
Annie, told of the fine plans Emily had made, burst into tears and begged her father not to send her away. He dried her tears and told her of the rosy future she had in store, but she remained unconvinced.
“What about our Tom and our Lizzie?” she sobbed. “I’ve allus looked after them. I know you don’t need me any more, but they do!”
Her pleading was to no avail. At first John tried to reason with her, then he grew angry and thumped the table. He wasn’t having disobedience from one of his children. She would do as she was told and that was that!
Emily, ostensibly busy cooking a meal, cast Annie a flickering glance of triumph from behind John’s back and Annie realised that there was nothing she could do.
The next day she went off on her own, making her way up towards the moors, not caring that she would be in trouble when she got back home.
Jeremy Lewis, driving his gig back from a case at one of the farms, recognised the little figure sitting hunched up by a brook and pulled up. “Hey, isn’t that young Annie Gibson?” he shouted. He tied the pony’s reins to one of the stunted moorland trees and walked across to join her. “Not often we see you out here on the moors, Annie.”
She raised a tear-stained face towards him. “H-hello, Dr Lewis.”
“Now, what’s the matter with you, lass?”
“They’re sendin’ me away,” she blurted out, sniffing and wiping a tear away on her sleeve.
“Who are?” he asked gently, disturbed to see this normally brave little girl so upset.
“She is! She’s the one who wants to send me away! She’s got round me dad.”
He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped her eyes, astonished at how beautiful they were, of an unusually bright green, with hidden gleams in them like the facets of a jewel, and fringed in long dark lashes. “Who’s ‘she’, Annie?”
“Me dad’s new wife. He’s got wed again.”
“Yes. I heard.”
“An’ – an’ she says I’ve to go into service – to leave home – leave Tom an’ our dad.” She scrubbed her eyes fiercely with his handkerchief. “She says it’s because she’s thinkin’ of me future, but I know it’s because she wants to get rid of me!”
“That’s a hard thing to face.”
She looked up, startled that he wasn’t trying to persuade her that it was all for her own good, as even Sally had tried to do. “I was happy,” she said brokenly. “We didn’t need her. I did the house an’ everythin’. An’ I did it better than her! Why, she can’t even sew properly! Me mam would have a fit at what she does to the clothes. Oh, why did me dad ’ave to marry her?”
“Sometimes a man needs the company of a woman,” he said gravely.
“You mean he wanted a woman to sleep with,” she said savagely. “I know about that. Sally Smith told me why he needed a wife. Oh, aye, me dad’s happy enough. But why do I have to go so far away? Ellie’s gone to work in t’mill. Why couldn’t I go into t’mill too?”
Heaven forbid! he thought. Not this bright-eyed child. He put his arm round her. “Maybe you won’t have to go too far away.”
“Oh, yes, I will! She’s asked Mr Hinchcliffe to – to recommend,” she brought out the long word triumphantly, “me to a family an’ his mother knows someone in Cheshire.” It might have been the moon, from the way she said it. “I’d never get to see M …” she was going to say Matt, but changed it to, “me friends if I worked in Cheshire.”
“That’d be terrible,” he agreed. “I’ll tell you what – I’ll ask my wife if she knows anyone who is looking for a maid in Bilsden. How about that?”
“Oh, Dr Lewis – would you?”
He took the problem to Annabelle the same evening, telling the story casually, asking if there was any chance of finding the girl a place in Bilsden.
“Oh, you and your slum children!” she scoffed. “She won’t find a place with a good family. They’re too ignorant and stupid, those girls from the Rows!”
“This one’s an exception, I think. She’s very intelligent, for a start, and she’s been running the family home for two years, ever since her mother died, and running it well, too, by all accounts.”
“Is she clean?”
He thought back to the morning, to Annie’s pale clear skin. “Yes, I think so. Cleaner than most, anyway. She lives near Sam Peters in Salem Street. One of the more respectable streets, that.”
Annabelle pulled a face. To her, none of the mill streets was respectable. Still, the last girl she’d had, who had come to her highly recommended from a farm family, had been slow and stupid, absolutely unteachable. And she’d be able to get this girl cheap. And what was more, it wouldn’t hurt to have Jeremy grateful to her, in case she needed a favour. “I’d have to see her first,” she said warningly. “And her stepmother. I like to know where my girls come from.”
His face brightened. “You mean, we need someone ourselves? Why, that’s marvellous!”
“Tell them to come and see me tomorrow, at eleven thirty sharp,” she said, already bored with the subject. “Now, about this party on Saturday. I’ve got some new people coming …”
* * *
Annie and her stepmother presented themselves at the back door of Park House at eleven twenty-five the next day, having waited near the church clock to be sure of not being late. Mrs Gibson was dressed in her wedding clothes, a dress in an unflattering shade of dark blue and a skimpy bonnet, which looked silly, Annie thought, perched on her stepmother’s narrow head. They had done their best to turn Annie out presentably, but there had been great consternation when Emily realised how the child had grown out of her Sunday clothes. Her boots stuck out clumsily below the dress which Lucy had bought for her second-hand just before she died, and which could no longer be let down.
When Annie and Mrs Gibson were shown into the back parlour, Annabelle closed her eyes for a moment in dismay. Really! How could Jeremy expect her to take on a girl like this? Then she remembered the maid she’d just dismissed and the desperate need to find a replacement. She ran a tight house and the other servants could not be expected to cope with the extra work for longer than was absolutely necessary. Only this morning, Cook had been hinting that they needed another pair of hands and saying that she was ‘fair wore out’ doing everything herself.
She studied the girl and woman more closely. Yes, Jeremy was right. Considering where they came from, they were surprisingly clean. What a frightful bonnet the woman was wearing, though!
“You’re Mrs Gibson,” she said coldly, “and this is Annie.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Annie bobbed a curtsey, having been coached by Mr Peters on how to address Mrs Lewis.
“Come over here to the window and let me have a proper look at you, girl.”
Annie stepped forward and the lady eyed her as if she were a worm crawled from under a stone, as Annie later told Ellie. “An’ she flicked at me with her fingertip, as if I was too mangy to touch.”
“I need a girl to help with the general housework,” the cold voice continued. Annabelle’s pale eyes were focused on Emily now.
“Annie’s a good little worker. She ran the house for two year when her mother died – ran it well, too.”
Annie blinked in surprise at this praise from her stepmother.
“And can she obtain references as to her character?” continued Annabelle, determined to maintain some standards.
Sam Peters had told them about the references too.
“Mr Hinchcliffe, the minister at the chapel, said he’d speak for her.” Emily was just as intimidated as Annie by Mrs Lewis. “She’s in his Sunday School class.”
“I see. You can read, then, girl?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
That’d be an improvement on her predecessor, who might have been taught her letters, but who couldn’t string the words together well enough to make any sense. “Read this aloud, please.” Annabelle held out a card.
Annie took it from her in one trembling hand. “It says, Mrs Jeremy Lewis r-requests the pleasure of the company of – of …”
“Thank you. That will do.”
Annabelle turned to the mother. “I will give your stepdaughter a month’s trial. Were she not exceptionally well recommended by my husband, I would not have considered employing a girl from the Rows. In the circumstances, she will have to work particularly hard to earn my trust.”
Mrs Gibson flushed a dull red at this and Ellie later shared Annie’s indignation that anyone should think that Salem Street was anything but respectable.
“Has she got an outfit?”
“A – a what, ma’am?” Sam had not told them about this.
“An outfit. It is customary for a girl, when she gets her first place in service, to provide her own uniform, which is then replaced by the mistress as necessary. That is termed an outfit.”
The red deepened in Emily’s cheeks. “I – what would she need, please, ma’am?”
Annabelle reeled off a list of clothing.
Emily swallowed. “We – we could get some of it …”
Annabelle debated on withdrawing her offer of employment, then decided to be generous – or to let Jeremy be generous. She never told him how much she was managing to save from her housekeeping allowance, and she was putting together a tidy little nest-egg for a rainy day. “Very well then, Mrs Gibson. Supply what you can and I will provide the rest.” After all, she had plenty of old clothes in the attic that could be cut down and she would deduct their cost from Annie’s wages, which would mean a further saving.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“She may as well start immediately. Go home and get your things, girl. I need you today.”
6
November 1832 to May 1834
The first few weeks at Park House were lonely and difficult for Annie. The other servants laughed at the way she spoke and at the clothes she wore. She had to share a room and bed with Bet, the parlourmaid, and Bet made it very plain from the first that she considered herself a cut above the newcomer. And then, there was so much to learn! Annie had thought she knew how to run a house till she went to work for Mrs Lewis, but she found out immediately that she knew very little. The furniture, the clothes people wore, the food they ate and even the way they spoke – everything bewildered her at first. It was like another world.
She had to rise at five in the morning and get the kitchen fire drawing, and though the early rising was no hardship, the kitchen range soon became the bane of her life. Then she had to clean the grate and light a fire in the nursery before sweeping and dusting that room out. Meantime, it was Bet’s duty to go down, do the grates and light the fires in the downstairs rooms. Then they both washed and had breakfast with the other servants.
There were five servants in all, Mrs Cosden, the cook, Mabel, the chambermaid, who also acted as lady’s maid to the mistress, and Katy, the nursemaid, as well as Bet and Annie. There was also Mrs Wilkes, who came in to do the washing and ironing once a fortnight, on a Wednesday and Thursday. Annie had to fetch and carry for her, running to and fro between the kitchen and the washhouse, and then she had to put away the finished piles of neatly-folded linen after it had been ironed on the following day. From Mrs Wilkes, Annie learned about the care of materials and the removal of stains.
Mrs Lewis ran a very economical household, for one of her station and high social aspirations. She kept a watchful eye on everything the servants did, as well as what they ate, and her suspicious attitude seemed to have communicated itself to the women who worked for her. They too kept a jealous eye on each other and were less than co-operative with the newcomer. Many times in those first few weeks Annie sobbed herself quietly to sleep, taking care not to wake Bet.
Used to the rough friendliness of Salem Street, where people were always ready to lend a hand if you were in trouble, Annie couldn’t believe it the first time Mabel blamed her for something Mabel herself had forgotten to do. If it hadn’t been for Dr Lewis, she believed she might have run back home. But he had got her this job as a special favour, and she couldn’t let him down. And somehow, the way the doctor winked at her when he passed her on the stairs and asked how she was getting on made her even more reluctant to give in to the petty persecutions and spitefulness she had to suffer in those early days. Besides, if she went home, they’d only send her away to Cheshire, which would be even worse. At least this way, she would still be able to see Matt every now and then.
She had one Sunday off a month, though it was not really a whole Sunday, because she couldn’t get away until nearly ten o’clock. The first free day came just as Annie thought she could bear Park House no longer. She walked home towards Salem Street very slowly, savouring her freedom. It all seemed part of the wonder of the day when she met Matt at the water tap and lingered to talk to him and stroll back with him. He asked about her new job and told her that Ellie had missed her and was dying to see her.
Salem Street seemed very cramped and the houses smaller than she had remembered, but little had changed inside Number Three. To Annie’s surprise, even her stepmother appeared glad to see her. All the family questioned her eagerly about Park House and she was conscious of a feeling of superiority as she answered their questions and told them how the rich lived. Both John and Emily shook their heads at some of the extravagances practised by Dr and Mrs Lewis. John quoted the Bible to show how wrong it was that some folks should have so much while others were in want, but that didn’t stop him from listening to her tales and asking more questions.
Then they all suddenly realised that it was time to leave for chapel and there was a rush to get ready. Annie had to attend the parish church on the other Sundays with the rest of Mrs Lewis’s staff, and she secretly thought the service there a lot more interesting and the church, with its flowers and ornaments, much prettier than the chapel – but of course she didn’t say so to her father, to whom religion now meant a great deal.
After the midday meal, Annie met Ellie, and this, apart from seeing Matt again, was the high spot of her day. Since it was a fine, though dull day, they walked out of town towards the moors, talking nineteen to the dozen about themselves and their new jobs. Only to Ellie did Annie admit that she was having a bad time at Park House; only to Annie did Ellie admit how much she hated and feared the mill. The noise of the spinning machinery made her head ache and the cotton fluff got into everything, even her mouth, till her throat was clagged with it and you either coughed it up or swallowed it.
“But at least you get every Sunday off,” Annie pointed out, trying to be of comfort.
“It’s not worth it,” said Ellie glumly. “It only makes it seem worse of a Monday.”
“And you get paid more than I do.”
“I’d rather get less money and stay out of that place,” said Ellie, shuddering. “And besides, Mam takes all me money. I have to ask for a penny and tell her what for, and half the time she says no. Eh, Annie, love, you don’t know how lucky you are!”
When Annie got back, she was summoned to see the mistress.
Annabelle stared at the child, who was already looking better for the more varied diet at the doctor’s home. She would be pretty when she grew up, with that colouring, and they would have to keep a careful eye on her. She cleared her throat. “I’m pleased to tell you, Annie, that you have not done too badly, considering your background.”
Annie bobbed a curtsey. “Thank you, ma’am.” Mrs Cosden had already hinted that she was likely to stay.
Annie’s eyes lit up at the thought of some decent clothes. She had felt her shabbiness very strongly, for Mabel and Bet had commented on it almost daily. “Oh, thank you, ma’am! I’m that grateful.”
“Very grateful, or so grateful. For goodness sake, try to learn to speak proper English! Listen to how the doctor and I speak, and do your best to imitate us. I can’t possibly live with that flat ugly accent in my ears.”
“No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am.” Another curtsey was safest, Annie reckoned.
Before she had been at Park House for two months, Christmas was upon them. If life had seemed lavish before, it seemed sinfully extravagant now. Mrs Cosden grumbled and complained, but produced several superb dinners for Mrs Lewis’s friends. She even unbent enough to give Annie tastes of the wonderful things she was making. In the general conviviality, Annie somehow found herself accepted by the other servants and treated more kindly, though you always had to watch Mabel and you had to tread lightly if Mrs Cosden had one of her heads.
On Christmas morning, Annabelle distributed presents to the servants, though only because Jeremy insisted on it. Annie found herself the stunned possessor of a length of stout white cotton suitable for a petticoat. Annabelle played Lady Bountiful at a little ceremony for the benefit of the visitors, her mother and Barbara Dwight, an old friend from Brighton, who were both staying with her for the festive season. Although Mrs Parton was not much impressed by the idea of giving presents to servants who got paid perfectly good wages, Barbara was, or pretended to be. She later recounted the touching scene at great length to a room full of guests, to Annabelle’s prettily-assumed embarrassment.
Annabelle greatly envied Barbara, who was a widow of some years’ standing, with a comfortable private income. How pleasant it must be to have one’s independence and to be able to do as one pleased at all times! When Barbara invited her to come for a return visit to Brighton, she accepted eagerly – though it later led to a quarrel with Jeremy, who felt that her place was at home with her daughter. Annabelle was determined to go, however. She needed quite desperately to get away from Bilsden for a time, and from Jeremy, who was for ever boring on about his stupid patients.