DANESBURY HOUSE.

Clutha Leader, Volume III, Issue 149, 18 May 1877, Page 3

DANESBURY HOUSE.

. — ♦ . "By Mrs Henry Wood

Chapter VII.

f T^lE DANESBURY OPERATIVES. '_iihv got on Jessy Gould ? \We had better see. She would have got on very well but for the public-houses; but Richard had learnt to like them much. When her friends consented to her marrying Richard Gould, they looked forward to the prospect of hi's rising to a good position in the establishment of Mr Danesbury, otherwise they would not have considered him a -suitable match for her. And as yet. Richard, though more comfortably off than many, was not advancing as he might have done. They had four or five children, who were kept as clean ttnd neat as their mother. It was half-past seven o'clock and Saturday night, and the bell rang at the Danesbury works for the men £ go in and be paid. Though so large a -number of them, the arrangements were well-ordered and systematic, and by 8 o'clock most of them were ready to de- j part. They passed into the yard, out at the great iron gates. A few proceeded to their homes, but the greater portion -were hurrying to the public-houses and beer-shops. A group of eight or ten, Richard Gould being one, haired in consultation as to which house should be favoured with their company, and finally it was decided to honour the Pig and Whistle, down by the new bridge. 4 Ay; let's. Jones said, last night, •as they had got a famous tap on at the Pig. j Come along, Gould, what be you •stopping for?'* Richard Gould was hesitating. It occurred to his memory that he had promised Jessy to bring his wages home the minute he had received them, for she said she wanted a few shillings for something particular, and told him what it was. 4 1 must step home first,' said he. * I'll come after ye. My wife's waiting* for some money.' 4 That's a shuffle, Gould. Your wife gets her marketings on credit on the Saturday mornings.' 4 It isn't marketings : it's something •else. T promised I'd be home.' 4 Bother \ You don't go for to think «s she'll trapese out to-night. Tt's apelting cats and dogs. No Avoman won't leave her fireside to-night, except them as can't help it, and your wife ain't one. Come along*.' Richard Gould yielded — an easy, good-natured soul he Avas, swayed Avith the wind — and away the lot Avent, through the rain and mud, to the Pig «nd Whistle. The Pig and Whistle received them "with due respect. It had got a blazing fire and a warm, light room to Avelcome them; and once ensconced in it. with their --iiYas and drink, they Avere oblivit^ of homes, wiA r es, children, and weeKly marketings, as if such things existed not. A few, who " used" the house regularly, called for their score?, on entering, and settled up for the past _even days. The Pig and Whistle was a flourishing house now, for the Avoiktnen, who had for a long* Avhile been engaged in erecting the new bridge in place of the dangerous old one, had patronised it extensively. Meanwhile Richard Gould's Avife wa* -sitting: at home, in all hope. They occupied one of the'coTtages in Prospect Row, neat dwellings of three rooms and a detached back kitchen ; or. as it was called, in local phraseology, a brewhouse. The to en inhabiting these cottages were all employed at the wrrks ; but there was a wide difference in their conduct, and, consequently, in their homes. Some drank their wages aAvay, and then huddled with their wives and families into the down-stairs room and the brewhouse, letting the two upper ones. Some of the wives were slatternly, some tidy ; but, as a general rule, though it did not apply in every instance, th_ slatternly wife and the drinking husband went together. Some made, of, these cottages, complete, pleasant dwellings, converting the brewhouse into a kitchen for the rough work — the washing and cooking — and the front room into a parlour. Jessy Gould, smart and nice in alj things, was one who had done the last, fitting it up with a carpet and glass, and pretty ornaments. Richard spent ;a deal more in drink than he coull afford, and this kept them poor; but Mrs Gould's friends often helped them, so that they were better off than most of the workmeu of his grade. „.-- rr . She "sat at home in the parlour, busy at work finishing a child's frock, and expecting Richard. Her children were in bed, and a small saucepan stood on the hob by the fire, containing some Irish stew for his supper. She had bought her marketings in the day—it was her custom to do so, and to pay on the Monday. . Too many a poor , wife could not obtain even this short credit, and had to get in everything on tbe Saturday, night, if her husband and his wages came home in time. The clock struck nine, and Jessy Gould laid down her work with a sigh of despair. ' ; •' He is off with the men again ! I am certain of it, ! He .might hayecome. Jiome this night, when he knew, what I wanted with the .money.' .; And her .work went on again, but more heavily. In the next cottage to theirs lived a man. of the^aE-eof Reed, an inferior .workman^ V Mrs Reed was in tribula-

.tion raore dire than Jessy, and vns audibly lamenting that this was Saturday night, and that Reed had gone adnnkmg again. She knew to her co.-t the propensity he had to 'go a-drink-ing,' not only on Saturday nights, but I on others. The first step was to go i atter him, and try to get him home before he was too far gone, and: half bis week s money spent. She threw a , sha\yl over faer gown, put on her bonnet, blew out the. candle, left the bit of fire safe, and opened the door. But she hesitated on the threshhold, for- the wind and rain cam« beating against her, threatening to Avet her through and through. Turning her thin cotton shawl over her arms, bared to the elbows, for she had been hard at work, she locked the door, took out the key, and knocked at Richard Gould's. 4 Gome in.' -Good evening, Mrs Gould. I'm come to ask you to let me leave my key here.' She left her pattens at the door, and went in. - Ain't it a shame?' she began. - There's that drunken brute of mine never come home again. He's off, as usual, with the rest ; and he know 3 I have not got bit or drop in the house for to-morrow, neither candles nor coals, nor even a bit of soap, I hadn't, to wash the poor children with — so I had to put them 'to bed dirty.' 4 Ay ; it is a shame,' said Mrs Gould. * They are all alike, I think, ky husband promised to come home, but he has never come. We are invited to Mr Harding's to dinner to-morrow, children and all, and I wanted to buy new shoes for the two eldest, for I am hot going to take them there intheir shabby old ones, which are off their feet, ard Richard knows the new shoe-shop won't give an hour's credit. The men are allalike.' * No, they are not all alike : I wish they were, if they were like your Gould. If he do go out of a night, he don't get drunk, and drink all his money away, as that sot of a Reed, of mine, do.' Jessy thought to herself that he drank away far more than he ought, but she did not say so. 4 Won't you sit down, Mrs Reed V 4 Law, no. I'm off to find him out, and get some money from him. It's hard lines with us, at the best, since our lodgers left, and it's harder when he gets drunk on wages night, for then the money melts like butter Not but what I'm loth to leaf e your fire, and (urn out into it ; so comfortable as you be here, to be sure !' The woman moved to ihe door, as she spoke. The rain was coming down in torrents. "You will get a dreadful soaking,' exclaimed Mrs Gould. * Have you an umbrella V • A crazy old thing, bent and broke. But no umbrella won't be of much good to-night. Good evening for the present".' Away she chinked in her pirtnn<*. through tbe garden g.ite and along the road. The first thing the wind did was take the 4 crazy old, umbrell-' and turn it inside out. She went nn in the ntin, not knowing at which of tbe publichouses she might find him, and wi'h something very like a maVdiction i < her heart on all of them They weie numerous, and she tried several unsuccessfully. .Tt was a weary search, and she grew disheartened ; she was wet to the skin, and returned to Prospect Row, hoping he had gone home. 4 Has he been for the key V she asked, putting her head inside Mrs Gould's door. ' No ; here it if. Have you seen anything of my husband ?' 4 1 have seen nothing of either of them. I wish the beer shops were burnt !' added Mrs Reid. in exasperation. 4 What a life is mine to be tied to such a sot !' Back again to the search. She must have money for her irarketings, and she must try and prevent him g*ettingf intoxicated. Just before eleven o'clock, the hour when the shops closed, she heard where he was. An acquaintance, bent on the same errand as herself, gave her the information that he, and about fifteen others, were at that noted public, the Pig and Whistle, 4 a-toping theirselves stupid.* 4 All that way !' exclaimed poor Mrs Reed. She went splashing wearily on, till she arrived at it, and she asked to see him. He came sullenly out of the tap-room, pipe in mouth, chafing at the jokes of his companions^ -who 1 asked him if he was in leading strings that his missis must come after him. He was fresh, not yet worse, and in a shocking humour ; for drink always put him in one, though, he was a civil man when quite sober. 4 What do yon want, a-coming hunting after roe ?' he exclaimed with a scowl. 4 What do T want!' she;retorted, 'why money, for one thing. You know the house is empty. Coals, and candles, and bread, and tea, and potatoes, and salt, and meat — - — ' , - He stopped her with an oath, threw down five shillings, and told her to go "along and: get the things. I f What is the use of five shillings V she asked, pushing it back. But he told her she might fake tba't-.-.or none. 4 Wonlt y ou . come home with nae V she resumed, not choosing* to argue the matter ! , - -,• Home wfh her! was the answers j A pretty piece of impudence she m*astJDe» Ito ask that, *?: i =■ •

i; j ; He went, back to tlie company and the tap room as -he spoke, and she, in a .. tone i between scolding* andj crying', i called out that he must be a good-for-nothing brute, to keep her trapesing about after him, 'on such a cruel night. Before she had time to quit the door of the Pi}? aud Whistle,., a slatternly 'woman, with a red face- and bold aspect, dushed intbif, the rain dripping off her. 'Is he here V she demanded, her breath redolent of spirits, and her voice unsteady. The landlord's answer Avas a movement of his thumb in the direction of tlie tap-room. She was passing- towards it with a fierce step, but he interposed and s o >ped ber. 'None of that, Dame Tailor. You can't go in there to make a row : we know you of old. If you Avant him, I'll fetch him out' ' Fetch him out, then, and be quick aboufc it.' This woman and ber husband lived in a room in the town— one room. They might have done sp well, for he was a clever workman, but drink was his bane, always had been, from , a young- man, and drink was now hers. She was a smart, well-conducted, tidy, you no* woman once, and she made him a well-conducted wife. Yes, she was; even that virago, with her offensive words, and her black hair hanging about her face. But his confirmed ill courses soured her temper and broke her spirit. Her children, born to rags and wretchedneas, died off as they came, dying, principally of hunger. Cold, Aveary, ahd sick at heart, she used to go hunting after him, as Mrs Reed had just done after her husband, and he would meet her with insult, abuse, and at last with blows. All the. good that was in her was thrown back upon her heart : maddened and despairing, she learned to fly to the same source to drown her sorrow, aad soon she became as confirmed a drinker as he was.< Tailor came out staggering, a black - lookiLg* fellow, six feet high ; and a scene of disturbance ensued. She was come fbr money to get more drink, and he would not give it her; he told her' she was top-heavy already. She retorted that he was. Threats poured from the man, screams of rage from the woman, and oaths from both. The landlord put a summary end to it; he expelled her from the door, threatened her with the lock-up if she relumed, and Tailor went, staggering and muttering, back to the tap-room. _Jrs Tailor flew up the street, scolding and raving, with all the rage of a violent and half-crpzy woman. The Brown Bear was the first public-house she passed ; it stood invitingly open, and she turned into it, and called for gin-and-water, promising to pay on the following Monday. - Who knows whether I may trust you ?' cried the landlady. 1 I'll pay you, if I have to pawn the coat off. Tailor's back. I swear it. There !' The gin-and-Avater was supplied, and more after it : for landladies know that these drinking debts generally are settled ; whether by the pledging of coats, or of ai:y other article, is of no moment to them. Mrs Reed went forth from the pub-lic-house with the five shillings in her hand, but the clocks had then struck eleven, and the shops were closed. On her way up the street, she" encountered many women going* on the same errand as she had been. Some, now it Avas too late to buy what they wanted, were returning home; others were pacing before the public-house doors on that pitiless night, humbly waiting for their inhuman husbands, not daring to leave them to get home alone, in the state in Avhich they knew they would be. , Inhuman then ; kind and civil if they would but keep sober. Jessy had finished her work, and she sat with the Bible before her, when Mrs Heed once more entered. She closed tlie book. ' Well,' said she, l have you found him.' ' Yes ; when eleven o'clock had gone. He's down at the Pig and Whistle ; there's a tap-room full of 'em, and he'll come home "drunk, for he's pretty far gone towards it now. Look here V She stretched out her hand, and exhibited the five shillings. 'He gave me that — and we want everything! I wonder a judgment don't overtake the beer-houses, I do. Look at the state I'm in !' Poor thing! she was indeed in a comfortless state. Wet, as if she had been in a pool of water. - There's , that unfortunate Nance Tailor bad again. She came after Tailor to the Pig, and a fine row there Avas, for both of 'em" was in for it. The landlord put her out, and she. went bi.ck screeching, and blaspheming up to the. Brown Bear ; and there she'll stop till it shuts up.' • i ■ „ ' She'll drink herself to death,, that woman will.' .. Y'-; : ' 45 She has had enough to drive her on to it, like 'some of the., rest of us. Your husband's not come home, for I <*aw him 1 in the tap-room down theie at the Pig. , I'm sure it's all enough to wear the life's hope out of one. It's well that you can sit there so cabb, and read that good book: T am never in the frame of mind for it.' . ,7 A* ,T_e i more crosses we have, the more we ought to go to it, for it is in trouble that we . find its; comfort,' nqui-m -reMi's; Gould, * I _aYe- taught- Richard

'-focVr¥ , 'fo"i , ;'it ; a"'-litt r ij* : . He did not whei wa married ; and I think it is tha which has kept him steadier than some. The woman looked into the fire. Thexpression of her face seemed to sa\. there was no comfort for her anywhere 4 That was kind of Mr Danesbury having the men before him yesterday, resumed Mrs Gould. ( • Did he have them 1 What for V 4 He had them all up before him in the long room, and said it had come tc his knowledge that their habit of frequenting the public-houses at nip-ht-Avas much more common than it used to be. He told them that it ruined their energies, wasted their means, and brought discomfort on their families ; 'and he begged them to be more thoughtful and to put a check upon their love^for dn'nk. He said he would rather i*a ise tbe wages of every man who would undertake- to; keep from the public-house, than that they, should, go 1 on drinking worse and worse, as they were doing." 4 There!. Now look at Reed! He would not tell me, 'cause he knowed he should riot fake the. advice. No more will any of 'era -.:- they'll go to the public, in ;spite of the , master. Good; night, Mrs Gould. I wish we was, all in Heaven together; 'twould be better for us.' Scarcely had Mrs Reed left, when Richard /Gould came in. No quite gone— -only, half so. His wife put the supper .before him without : speaking : he did not eat it, but went off to bed. Next morning he awoke, got up early, : and went but to get the shoes for the children ; for it had become a system with some of the inferior shops in East borough to. open for an hour or two on the Sunday -morning. Perhaps the necessities of the workmen's wives had originated it. His head was aching ; his wife was grieved.; his wages were sensibly diminished. He begged her to say nothing, at Mr: Harding's, and: protested he never would be tempted out on a 'Saturday night again—as he had protested many and many a time before. Poor Mrs Reed had gone into her comfortless home, shivering and miserable. Yet she did not care to crack up the fire, for the lump of coal on it was the last bit she had in the house, and she must keep it to boil the kettie in the morning, while she went out. A bitter feeling, a mixture of indignation and despair, stole over her heart, as she sat there, Avaiting for her husband ; despair at her unhappy misery, and indignation at public-houses in general, and her husband in particular. Her thoughts flew back to the time Avhen she was a pretty young woman, the child of respectable, industrious parents, without a care upon her, and looking forward to a hopeful future. 4Oh that I had never married !' she aspirated, * that I could be as I once have been !"- The tower clock tolled twelve, and those agents of much misery, the pub-lic-houses, closed for the night. Other nights the closing hour was eleven; Saturday, twelve. Why so ? That the men, whon they had money in their pockets, might enjoy increased facilities of spending it 1 Let those answer who made the law. At three-quarters past tAvelve — it took him that time to reel home— Reed tumbled in, awfully abusive, especially at there being no fire and no supper; and, in spite of his. wife's remonstrances, he managed to steady himself so as to crack up the coal, and .start it into a blaze. Tn vain she tried to get him to bed : he lighted his pipe, and savagely ordered her to go out and buy hping Avith difficulty made to understand that the taps were closed for the night. He would sit on, and he did ; now dozing*, now taking ■*> few whiffs at the pipe, and now breaking out into hqlf-connected sentences of abuse. She, poor, weary woman, was obliged to sit with him;, left to himself, he might get burnt, or i set the house on fire : not only for that — he Avould not permit her to g*o : he never did, when he was in that state, At four o'clock he condescended to retire, she undressing him. Before sh^ seemed to have closed her eyes, the children were awake and noisy, as children like to bei Fatigued and unrefreshed. she got up, he lying in bed, like a clod ; and, telling her children to be still in bed, for their father was hot well, she prepared to go out But first of all, she looked into her husband's pockets, painfully anxious as to the amount she might find there. His wages were fifteen shillings a week ;. it has been, said] that he was only an inferior workman ; and she hunted out six-and-sevenpence-half-penny. . With a sensation of despair, she examined on, but there was no more. Three-and-fourpence-halfpenny gone in one night.. She put it back, and wrung her hands. * Father got drunk last night, T know,' whispered the eldest child to the rest, as ! soon as%is"mother ! 8 back was turned,,,. /Tt was pay. night.;' , -He was beginning, child as he was, to be wise in such matters. • ; ... Mrs. Reed laid out her five.shillings, eking it out to the best advantage, returned, made the fire, got/-,up the chil r ; dreu, and gaye._ them their- breakfast. Towards dinner-time the husband came down,- looking mher-ibly cold and uncomfortable; and very angry ■ with/.himself, fbr he was not a bad or unfeeling man, except when' under tbe influence .of ,. drink. <JHis f; wife, .was, sullen and would not notice him •jJrat at last {she . asked: hi^Jgivingi way to the burden that was lying at. her beaitpiow ever he

i cairnc /to^ /spend so much, as tbjree-and- ; seyt-npence-halfpenny. He didn't know ' how, he answei-ed; he couldnft recol- . lect.' SomeKody called for spirits, and then .others called ,f or. spirits,: there was ■ a good deal (li*uhk amongst 'em, one way or, t'other.) -: Ninepence of it was an ' old score.which he owed WJ hat was .to be done about the .landlord;! ; was her next ominous question. .HeL must let : her have al.l,'jthat;he had got remaining. , Oh yes! he. would let her have it, he said, full of contrition 1 , and they sat down to. dinner, pretty. peacefully. Of course, ale was .wanted .to drink Avith that, and the eldestchild was despatched to the nearest. tap, for it.; After, dinner^ Ayhile Mrs Reed avus putting the place to rights, and washing up, he took his hat'and sallied out. The public-houses -were open; janrl in passing the Leopard he saw some of his acquaintances sitting .--. at its window. He Avent in 'only just,- to speak with them,! for his pricking conscience was whispering a warning ; but they: looked so comfortable and cosy with their pipes and jugs, that his old- unhappy; failing seized irresistible hold of him, and doAvn he sat, and called for a pipe o' bacca and a pint o' mild ale. Others dropped in, one by one, till at length the room, was pretty full. Hs sat there till nine ar night— he was unable to tear himself away— and then went home. He had not toped himself into the state of the previous -evening*; by no means; and he would have asserted that he was perfectly sober, but> he had further diminished his scanty stock oi' money. His wife, in toAvering. indignation, had been fretting and scolding away her Sunday evening in a most unhappy foams of mind,, and a loud and bitter quarrel closed it, which the children woke up to hear. And thus it went on ; and that man, who ought to h-»ve kept his. wife, in comfort, sunk them, week by week,. Into deeper poverty.: , Such were the existing circumstances with tbe majority of the working men; of Eastborough. (To be continued.)