THE DEPRIVED... Chapter 3...Part 17.

A continuation of my book.

It seemed endless with the ride along cobbled streets and onto wider roads while the driver, in between whipping the horse and lifting the scarf to drink from a bottle, seemed to drift off into a doze. Beth had never seen so much traffic. As the cart drew up to London Bridge there seemed to be a mesh of carriages, carts and strange machines which seemed to blow out smoke as well as long covered carts drawn by six horses, full of people who stared out from open windows. Crossing the bridge, Beth looked out across the River Thames and remembered her time with Kilpatrick, a time when they had sat on the dockside wall with legs dangling as they had watched the Mudlarkers at work.
The river traffic was in full flow, small and toy-like from the height of the bridge and the slow passage across the bridge allowed Beth plenty of time to watch the ships, tugs and barges slowly move up and down with the flow of the tide.
Onward plodded the horse and cart, through small offset villages and rough country tracks which divided fields and it was some five hours later when the driver shouted out for the horse to stop outside a large building which had all the appearance of a warehouse.
“See that there door? Go and knock on it.” said the driver before putting the bottle to his lips.
Beth climbed down from the seat and almost fell as the driver raised the whip and struck the horse so that the horse snuffled through its nose and began to slowly pull the cart away, leaving Beth to stand in the road. Walking up to the large gate she knocked on the smaller door set within it. A grating opened in the small door to allow a pair of eyes to peer out at her.
“Name?” queried a voice.
Beth gave her name.
“Age and status?”
Beth gave her age of being now fifteen.
“What about your status?” asked the voice.
“I am not sure what you mean by status.” said Beth.
The voice sighed.
“I mean the status of being married or unmarried.”
“I’m not married.” defined Beth.
The small door opened to allow her to enter a large courtyard.
“Line up with the women over there.” said the man who had let her in, pointing to a line of men, women and children who stood in silence.

Beth stood in line, her eyes taking in the rows of empty windows and her heart sinking as she realised this was not the kind of reception she had expected. There was much of a prison in the way the people in charge seemed to shout orders harshly and to push some about who did not move or answer quickly enough. At the main entrance there came sudden screams and shouts as a man, sporting a heavy moustache and who seemed to be the main person in charge, began to issue orders.
“I want the men and boys to the right and women and girls to the left. Come on, hurry up!”
Beth moved to join the line of women and girls and then stood horrified as she watched those in charge move in to split up family groups, forcing the struggling men and boys away from wives and daughters. Men in uniforms used clubs to bring order to those who fought to be united with their families, forcing the different sections to march to the different parts of the building.
“You’ll see your darlings when you get out of here!” shouted one man, raising his club to strike out at a small boy who tried to run from the line of men and boys, screaming out to a mother who disappeared into the building.
Beth felt her heart breaking at the pitiful sight of families being torn apart. Mother’s and girls cried bitterly as the line edged up to the door, each woman and girl being separated and being directed down a separate hallway and into a large room.
Beth was ordered to join the girls and made to stand in line and undress. Each girl was given a quick bath in a tin tub, scrubbed over by older girls in a dour and rough uniform then prodded and poked by a man in a white coat. Those girls who had flesh sores or any signs of venereal disease were taken away to be scrubbed down with a dark brown liquid which burned, some taken away to be placed in the wards of mental confinement.
Beth was given a clean bill of health and had her clothes taken away.
“You’ll get them back when you leave here.” said one of the uniformed girls.
“That’s if you ever do get out.” laughed another as she threw down some clothes for Beth to dress in.
The uniform consisted of  a blue-striped dress, a bit too large and over which was worn a smock of rough blue cloth followed by a pair of black boots which pinched her toes and squeaked in protest as she walked.
“You get today off seeing as you’re new. But tomorrow it is in line for you to start working for your keep.” said the Matron in charge of the dormitory.
Beth felt the tears flood her eyes as she stared around the dormitory at the rows of cots, the iron bedsteads with thin blankets neatly folded and neatly placed in rows down either side of the room.
“It’s no good crying, girl. You’re in the workhouse now and here till you can prove you are able to pay your way in the world. Your bed is over there. It’s number four.” said the Matron curtly. “There’s a list of rules over there on the notice board. Read them and remember them. Take special note of prayer times, each morning and before you go to bed at night. If you miss any you will be fined as well as lose your food intake. So get used to it, Missy. We’ll have no malingerers or beggars in here. We will not tolerate paupers, neither them nor unbelievers. Everyone has to earn the right to a clean bed and a meal!”
With that the Matron walked out leaving Beth to go to the notice board, trying to read the long list of rules through tear-filled eyes.

“Who are you?”
One of the older women Beth had seen at the line-up outside had walked into the dormitory and stopped as she saw Beth standing at the notice board.
“I’m new.” said Beth stupidly.
“I can see you’re new. I can also see that you are not busy. Get a broom from that cupboard and sweep the floor.”
Beth gained a large brushwood broom from the cupboard and began to sweep the floor while the woman began to lift up the mattresses, then look under the beds.
“Contraband.” explained the woman shortly when she saw Beth look at her. “The girls steal things and bring them into the dormitory.”
Beth put her head down and continued to sweep.
“You can stop when the girls come in from work.” said the woman, walking out of the dormitory.