Brigit's Flame, week three
In the 17th and 18th centuries, many people were named for virtues and graces. This piece uses this as a bit of a play on words.
Charity paused in the doorway, hesitant to enter this most secret of places. Once she entered in here, she was condemned, so to speak. Well, her bed was made, and this is where she belonged now. She straightened her shoulders- though pride was something she had no right to- and stepped into the room.
There were plenty of others in varying stations of the same shame she herself was in. They were sitting about, reading, knitting, mending. None of them looked damned.
“Pardon me,” they all looked at her, ceasing their work, and her courage failed her.
“What is it, child?” the woman who spoke was older, motherly.
“I- would like to- my mother sent me- Have you any room for another?” now that it had to come out in the open, she could not voice her shame.
“Of course, child. What is your name? Your Christian name, child. We don’t give surnames, here.” the woman smiled kindly.
Charity, ma’am.”
“Have you brought the offering, Charity?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Charity held out the small purse her mother had given her.
“Have you brought anything else?”
“No, ma’am, just the clothes on my back. I wasn’t allowed anything else.”
“The woman sighed, and rose. “As it should be. Settle yourself here, child, and I will go make a place ready for you.”
Charity sat in the corner the woman had left, looking at the floor, her face burning, tears of shame dropping from the end of her nose into her lap.
“There now, don’t cry,” one of the other girls spoke, “we are all in the same situation here. Welcome, Charity. My name is Mendicancy, and I would wager we are here because of similar circumstances.”
“I- I would imagine so.” Charity looked at Mendicancy, who was smiling grimly, her hands resting on the rise of her belly.
“Yes, you see, my lover, Justice, caught the eye of an eligible young woman of considerable wealth. So, though he had promised to take care of me forever, he instead abandoned me in my hour of need. Justice has always been fond of those with money.”
“Yes, my situation is very similar to yours,” Charity gulped. “Almost the same, in fact.” She smiled forlornly. “Industry was very prosperous, and he courted me for a long time, showering me with lovely gifts and treating me like a queen. But then, after I had given him everything, Industry fell on hard times, and he turned his back on me.”
“Yes, they tend to do that.” Another girl, with a hugely swollen belly, spoke up. “My name is Parity, by the by, and this is Temperance, Grace, Faith and Hope.” Parity pointed to the other girls in the room in turn, and each smiled or nodded, murmuring in welcome.
“It is- nice- to meet you all.” Charity smiled, not without effort.
“It is nice to meet you, as well, Charity,” Grace had a lovely voice.
“If I may ask, what becomes of the … children?”
“Some go to Our Father, of course, as do their mothers.” Faith said grimly, “but the Church helps find families for some, and some are raised by the Church.”
“What- what will become of …us? Of me?”
“Well, that depends,” said Hope, “Some just leave after their trial is over, but many stay; Patience, the woman who first spoke to you, has been here for twenty years Some will go back to their families, if they’re lucky. Some will go into service; they provide training for that, here. And there are some,” she smiled wickedly, “who go back to the ones who put them here in the first place.”
“Oh.” Charity began to cry again.
“Come on, now!” Temperance snorted. “We have none but ourselves to blame; if we weren’t such vile sinners, we wouldn’t be here.”
“Enough, Temperance!” The matron, Patience, stood in the doorway. “Charity, child, come with me. I’ve got a room ready; you should go lie down and rest for a while.”
Charity followed the matron to a tiny cell with only a narrow white bed and a washstand in it. She took off her cloak and bonnet, hung them on pegs, and lay gratefully down on top of the covers.
“Sleep,now, child.” The matron stroked her head, “You have a long confinement ahead of you.” She softly closed the door as she left.
Charity dozed off, her bed still made beneath her.
Charity paused in the doorway, hesitant to enter this most secret of places. Once she entered in here, she was condemned, so to speak. Well, her bed was made, and this is where she belonged now. She straightened her shoulders- though pride was something she had no right to- and stepped into the room.
There were plenty of others in varying stations of the same shame she herself was in. They were sitting about, reading, knitting, mending. None of them looked damned.
“Pardon me,” they all looked at her, ceasing their work, and her courage failed her.
“What is it, child?” the woman who spoke was older, motherly.
“I- would like to- my mother sent me- Have you any room for another?” now that it had to come out in the open, she could not voice her shame.
“Of course, child. What is your name? Your Christian name, child. We don’t give surnames, here.” the woman smiled kindly.
Charity, ma’am.”
“Have you brought the offering, Charity?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Charity held out the small purse her mother had given her.
“Have you brought anything else?”
“No, ma’am, just the clothes on my back. I wasn’t allowed anything else.”
“The woman sighed, and rose. “As it should be. Settle yourself here, child, and I will go make a place ready for you.”
Charity sat in the corner the woman had left, looking at the floor, her face burning, tears of shame dropping from the end of her nose into her lap.
“There now, don’t cry,” one of the other girls spoke, “we are all in the same situation here. Welcome, Charity. My name is Mendicancy, and I would wager we are here because of similar circumstances.”
“I- I would imagine so.” Charity looked at Mendicancy, who was smiling grimly, her hands resting on the rise of her belly.
“Yes, you see, my lover, Justice, caught the eye of an eligible young woman of considerable wealth. So, though he had promised to take care of me forever, he instead abandoned me in my hour of need. Justice has always been fond of those with money.”
“Yes, my situation is very similar to yours,” Charity gulped. “Almost the same, in fact.” She smiled forlornly. “Industry was very prosperous, and he courted me for a long time, showering me with lovely gifts and treating me like a queen. But then, after I had given him everything, Industry fell on hard times, and he turned his back on me.”
“Yes, they tend to do that.” Another girl, with a hugely swollen belly, spoke up. “My name is Parity, by the by, and this is Temperance, Grace, Faith and Hope.” Parity pointed to the other girls in the room in turn, and each smiled or nodded, murmuring in welcome.
“It is- nice- to meet you all.” Charity smiled, not without effort.
“It is nice to meet you, as well, Charity,” Grace had a lovely voice.
“If I may ask, what becomes of the … children?”
“Some go to Our Father, of course, as do their mothers.” Faith said grimly, “but the Church helps find families for some, and some are raised by the Church.”
“What- what will become of …us? Of me?”
“Well, that depends,” said Hope, “Some just leave after their trial is over, but many stay; Patience, the woman who first spoke to you, has been here for twenty years Some will go back to their families, if they’re lucky. Some will go into service; they provide training for that, here. And there are some,” she smiled wickedly, “who go back to the ones who put them here in the first place.”
“Oh.” Charity began to cry again.
“Come on, now!” Temperance snorted. “We have none but ourselves to blame; if we weren’t such vile sinners, we wouldn’t be here.”
“Enough, Temperance!” The matron, Patience, stood in the doorway. “Charity, child, come with me. I’ve got a room ready; you should go lie down and rest for a while.”
Charity followed the matron to a tiny cell with only a narrow white bed and a washstand in it. She took off her cloak and bonnet, hung them on pegs, and lay gratefully down on top of the covers.
“Sleep,now, child.” The matron stroked her head, “You have a long confinement ahead of you.” She softly closed the door as she left.
Charity dozed off, her bed still made beneath her.