Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
The Thorntons of Milton
A sequel to “The Milton Chronicles”
By Lucia Swiers
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter One – Spring in Milton
It was not until the end of April 1853 that Milton was released from the claws of winter.
Snow and frost lasted such a long time that the poorer among the worker’s families in the Northern
industrial town suffered immensely from hunger and cold. Many of them died, from starvation or
diseases of the lungs. Charity could not solve every problem but at least managed to alight some of
the misery.
~~~~
Margaret Hale Thornton was one of the most fervent among those who were trying to make a
difference to the lamentable conditions of the poor. Despite her pregnancy of thirty weeks, she was
working hard in the sick bay she and Mary Higgins had set up in one of Marlborough Mills’ halls.
They provided food and medical attention every day now, around the clock. Moreover, they supplied
wood and coal to a vast number of families, in return for which the elder children would help in the
surgery. That was, if they were not healthy enough to work in the factory. Families could not afford
to lose the money. As much members of a household able to work were needed to keep it alive. The
more lucky ones were those who had five or more wages brought in and not too many toddlers and
babies at home. That way the mother would also be working which meant an extra income.
~~~~
Now that the snow had gone and the temperature was mild, fewer people fell ill. Margaret and Mary
could finally afford to let their guard down and give their attention to other problems, such as a
thorough and lasting support of the workers and their families. To that end, Margaret was planning
to go to London and attend a seminar on the improvement of workers’ conditions, organised by the
National Union of Weavers and Drapers. She also wanted to visit Dr Mortimer Chelmsford in Harley
Street who was a well known obstetrician. Now that her baby was well on its way, she needed
reassurance that all was well. It would be her last trip away from home before her baby was due at
the end of June.
Margaret was huge with pregnancy already and accordingly tired at the end of a day’s work.
Therefore, her husband John, owner and master of Marlborough Mills, was not too happy with this
trip.
“Honestly, my love,” he said, as they sat at the dinner table that night, “I am not that keen on
sending you to London just now. You are well underway in your third trimester and I cannot bear to
miss you! Can you not wait until our child is born?”
Margaret laid her hand on John’s and smiled affectionately at him.
“Darling, it is just for one week! I will be back before you know it.”
John took up Margaret’s small, delicate hand and fondly kissed its palm. He was suddenly overcome
with worried tenderness at the thought of his fragile wife on the loose in London where all sorts of
danger might be lurking in dark alleys and corners.
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“At least you will stay with your Aunt Shaw and you will have you cousin Edith to keep you
company,” he said and rose to his feet to help her up. Margaret experienced a difficulty in her
movements of lately since her abdomen was heavily swollen and her back gave her pains when she
had been sitting in the same position for a while.
“Yes, that is true and I will be so happy to see them both again, after so long a time. Edith is pregnant
again and my aunt wrote that she is even more sick in the mornings than she was with Sholto’s
pregnancy. Poor Captain Lennox! He will be the first recipient of her complaints!”, Margaret giggled.
“Well,” John grumbled, “I always thought Edith a spoilt brat! Hopefully she is now a bit more grownup in her ways now that she is to be a mother the second time!”
John led Margaret to their bedroom where he assisted her in undressing for the night. This was their
evening ritual and he always looked forward to it. He had been doing so since the terrible fright they
had in the early stages of Margaret’s pregnancy after Ann Latimer so dreadfully attacked her. They
had been afraid of Margaret losing the baby, then.
Yet, every night, as soon as they came out of the dining room, Dixon would step forward to help her
mistress, as she had done so for many years and every night, John had to wave her away. This
evening was no exception, though John saw the affectionate smile on the faithful servant’s face and
knew she was reconciled with him taking over her love labour. Besides, Dixon would have Margaret
to herself in the days to come, since she was accompanying her to London. John felt comforted very
much by that knowledge. Dixon would guard his beloved wife like a hen her chicks!
~~~~
A little while later, John had comfortably settled his wife in their bed, propping her aching back with
several pillows, to allow her to rest properly. While he then began to undress, Margaret lay watching
him with fond eyes. Every day, she thanked the Lord for this handsome, strong husband of hers. The
happiness she basked in since her marriage to John seemed to grow each day.
And, she thought mischievously, so did the attraction between them!
The sight of John’s long, lean frame, the ripples of those smooth muscles under the silken skin, the
broad chest with its light sprinkle of dark hair and, finally, the exquisite sight of his manhood,
beautiful even in repose, all of John’s splendid physique still excited her even now.
John caught his wife’s gaze, just before donning his nightshirt.
“What?,” he grinned, “Is there something you wanted from me, my love?”
Margaret gave such a deep sigh that her husband burst out laughing at her disappointed face. They
had been forbidden sexual intercourse by Dr Donaldson until after the baby was born because
Margaret still was in danger of miscarrying, now that she was so heavily swollen. It was hard for
them both but John, who had resigned himself to celibacy, had not been happy that his wife should
suffer the same. He therefore had schooled himself in other ways of pleasing his beautiful Margaret
and would only be too happy to oblige her, should the need arise.
He dropped the nightshirt and walked over to their bed, where he stretched out his body next to
Margaret while proceeding in unbuttoning the front of her nightgown.
“Well,” he said, in a low, sultry voice that sent shivers all over Margaret’s body, “I cannot let you
leave on a journey for a whole week without supplies, can I, my darling?”
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Chapter Two – A Journey to London
Margaret’s heart thudded frantically as John’s expert fingers undid the buttons of her nightgown,
pushing it from her shoulders and down her body. She closed her eyes in pure delight when he began
kissing the soft skin of her neck and shoulders, setting it aflame as his lips trailed down to her now
full breasts.
“John, we must not ...”, she moaned, all the while unable to stop her body from arching into his
touch when his hands cupped her aching breasts and his thumbs rubbed her taut nipples.
“Shhh, my beautiful love,” John soothed, “leave this to me. There are many ways to worship your
exquisite body.”
Margaret, who was becoming fully aroused, wondered what he could mean! Many ways ... oh! Oh!
Oh! He was removing her gown and kissing her swollen, sensitive belly!
“John ... stop, please ... I ...”
“Shhh, my precious, don’t fight me, just enjoy. Oh, my darling Margaret, how beautiful you are ...”
His strokes became even more insistent now, invading her womanly place with long, deep ... oh,
God! He was kissing her ... there? Yes, he was and ... it was incredible! She plunged her hands into his
thick sabre locks to steady herself as her arousal built up quickly to take her up, to that peak of
delight.
Margaret’s senses suddenly exploded into a myriad of rippling waves of intense pleasure! The
sensations rolled over her, again and again, as her tender womanly folds clenched in the heat of
pleasure. It took several moments for her to recover her breath while John stroked her stomach with
soothing hands.
“My beautiful love,” he said hoarsely, “do you know how perfectly gorgeous you are? Oh, my
Margaret, my sweet, my dearest, I love you so much ...”
“John, I love you too ... thank you for what you just did, it was magical. But ... you, John, what of
you?”
Margaret saw how intense her husband’s arousal was and how he was forcing himself to suppress it.
“Do not think of me, my darling, it will pass. We, men, are accustomed to suppress our needs many
times over. If I did not lust after you, I would not be a proper man and if I had to gain satisfaction
every time I feel the need for you, I would not leave our bed all day.”
This made Margaret giggle in delight, for it was a huge compliment her husband just paid her.
~~~~
The next day Margaret and Dixon took the 9.45 London-and-North-Western-Railway from Outward
Milton Station to London Euston Station. They were bound on a five-hour journey of jostling on
reasonably comfortable, plush couches with a half way stop in Leicester, so they made themselves
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comfortable. John returned to his mill, suppressing his distress about Margaret’s departure. The
work was huge enough, what with Nicholas Higgins not present.
The events of the past winter and their consequences were yet another thorn in John’s side.
It was extremely difficult for him to accept that his mother and Higgins had taken a romantic interest
in each other! He knew very well he was being unfair but still he could not begin to comprehend
what the two of them saw in each other. They were so far apart in their social status and their
education that John did not understand their mutual attachment. In the summer, they would marry,
as soon as his mother had recovered from her ordeals brought on by the treacherous maid Jane. At
present, his mother was recuperating in a sanatorium in Cornwall and Nicholas was at her side.
The union man had put all protest aside and ignored the claim of propriety on accompanying his
betrothed before they were married.
“Damn it all, John!”, had been his exact words, “I’ll do as I see fit! Hannah needs me by her side and
that’s the lot of it! To hell with anyone who dares object to it!”
In his heart, John knew he would have done the same, should Margaret be in equal circumstances. It
left him, though, in dire conditions at Marlborough Mills, since Nicholas had proven himself almost
indispensable in the running of the cotton factory. Now John was all by himself, as he had been
before, were it not that the mill had grown in such a steep way that it now employed two thousand
workers. That fact had forced John to build three new sheds for carding and weaving, as well as two
new storehouses and a building fit for housing the large maintenance department he had installed.
Consequently, John’s working days were considerably long and hard.
~~~~
Margaret and Dixon arrived at Euston Station in London at three o’clock and had scarcely alighted
from their carriage on the platform when a young, feminine voice called her name. Through the
throng of people, Edith came hurrying in their direction. The two young women embraced each other
in a hearty welcome.
“Oh, Margaret! I have missed you so much! Let me look at you! You look absolutely radiant!”
“Edith, I missed you too! I am so happy to see you! Are you here all by yourself?”
“No, Margaret!,” the voice of Captain Lennox sounded, “I would not dare let her lose in town without
me! She might bring irreparable harm to our capital!”
“Maxwell!”
Margaret kissed and hugged Edith’s husband fondly. Then she saw Aunt Shaw stepping from behind
her daughter.
“Auntie!”
“My dear child!”
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With a pang of sorrow Margaret embraced her mother’s sister. Her aunt had grown stouter and her
benign face was much more wrinkled than the last time she saw her. Her dark blond hair showed
many grey streaks and her step was heavier.
“Come!”, Captain Lennox said, “let us go to the carriage and bring you home. Do not worry, Miss
Dixon, John, our footman will see to your luggage!”
Half an hour later Margaret was seated in her aunt’s parlour at Harley Street with a restoring cup of
tea in her hand. There was so much to tell and she knew hardly where to begin. So she recounted the
events that had followed her wedding day, with the doings of Ann Latimer and later those of their
maid, Jane. Unbelief was written on everyone’s faces when hearing this.
“Well!”, Aunt Shaw exclaimed, “I am extremely chagrined to hear that your husband does not take
good care of you, my dear! What is he thinking, subjecting you to all this danger and mischief?”
Margaret was about to defend John when a voice came from the open door:
“Yes, Margaret, what does that big lout of a Thornton mean to do about protecting you?
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Chapter Three - Old Resentment Laid to Rest
Upon hearing the angry voice behind her, Margaret rose from her chair and turned around.
“Henry ...,” she said softly and beheld the stern figure of Henry Lennox as he stood in the doorway,
not the slightest trace of a smile on his handsome countenance.
She did the only thing that made sense on such an awkward moment; she smiled ... and had the
satisfaction of seeing a myriad of feelings pass over Henry’s face, resentment, anger, distress.
However, there was also the more intense emotion of surprised compassion as his eyes roamed over
her figure, swollen in pregnancy.
“Margaret ... you are ... with child?”
Henry suddenly swallowed hard, at the tender beauty of Margaret, her slight, small body held
upright and proud, her slender waist now supporting the weight of her unborn child. Not for the first
time Henry envied John Thornton and the enormous fortune that man had of being able to love
Margaret in all possible ways!
“Yes, Henry, as you can see! John and I are expecting our first child early July. One of my purposes of
coming to London is to visit Dr Mortimer Chelmsford, further down the street. I want to be
absolutely certain that nothing has been overlooked and that I can await the birth of my child in
peace and quiet.”
Aunt Shaw cleared her throat noisily at this point, drawing all attention to herself.
“Speaking of childbirth, Margaret, I was wondering if you should not stay here when your time
comes. Surely there is no better place to have the baby than here in the capital of the Empire? What
brand of physicians would they have up there in the great, barren North?”
Margaret let burst out her silvery little peel of laughter, which suddenly pinched at Henry’s heart.
“Oh, Auntie! Never! Do you suppose John would let me do such a thing? He wants to be at my side
when the baby is to be born! Unless you are prepared on taking us both in, he will not be away from
me!”
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Mrs Shaw pinched her lips in her usual disapproving manner but said nothing more. She had never
understood what attracted her niece in the brooding mill master that was John Thornton, nor why
she chose to live in the grimy, unsanitary Northern town where the only thing of value seemed to be
the making of cotton. Inwardly she scoffed. Cotton! Was there ever a more vile, low-quality fabric
than that? And the factories! Stuffy, dark, stifling dens full of sickly, ragged people! Yet she kept quiet
and promised herself to bide her time. There might come a moment when Margaret would see the
profit of being in the warm comfort of a well-to-do London mansion.
~~~~
The next morning, Margaret attended the seminary she had come to London for in the company of
her faithful Dixon. It was held at the National Union of Weavers and Drapers Assembly Hall in
Cheapside, a long way from Harley Street and Regent’s Park. The beautiful houses of the rich
gradually gave way to more modest lodgings and farther away to grimy, forbidding warehouses as
the hansom cab approached the river Thames. The hall itself was a large, brown-bricked building
designed for practicality rather than aesthetics. Dixon and her mistress entered the big gate of the
porch in their carriage, asking the driver to come and collect them in four hours. They alighted into a
rather shabby courtyard and were immediately hailed a welcome by a stout, round-cheeked young
man who introduced himself as Frederick Porter, the secretary of the organisation.
“Mrs Thornton,” he beamed, “it is you, isn’t it? Only a man with Mr Thornton’s progressive views
would send his honoured spouse to attend our modest meetings. Welcome, ma’am. Please, let me
have the honour of escorting you.”
Margaret smiled at him as she took his outstretched hand in a sturdy grasp.
“Thank you, Mr Porter, it will be my pleasure. Dixon, you need not to stay with me. I would be glad to
give you the morning off, if you like?”
“Miss Margaret, I am not leaving your side! How can you think such a dreadful thing of me and in
your delicate condition too!”, Dixon exclaimed. Margaret giggled inwardly at Dixon still calling her
“Miss Margaret”. Her dear old Dixon had never accepted Margaret’s status of a distinguished
married lady at all!
“Very well, Dixon, you may come along, if that is what you wish.”
She then allowed Mr Porter to escort her inside.
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~~~~
At Marlborough Mills John was almost swamped in work.
He had the orders to look after, the supplies to tend to, the worker’s wages to be calculated and
paid. In addition to that he also had to supervise the construction sites of all the new buildings that
were in the process of being erected on the grounds of the mill.
His days were nearly endless as he was at his office at six am and not leaving until eleven at night.
There was often no time to eat and no Margaret, Hannah or Higgins to drag him out of his office and
make him partake of some food. As had frequently occurred in the past, John worked himself into
exhaustion attempting to cope with it all.
He hadn’t even heard the quiet knock on the door at first until it repeated itself more vigorously the
second time.
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“Come!”, he replied.
Mary Higgins’ dainty little figure appeared in the doorway and John rose politely and pointed her to a
chair.
“Good day, Mary,” he greeted her, “What can I do for you?”
“Mr Thornton, sir ...”, Mary began but John interrupted her, smiling friendly at her.
“Please, Mary, I beg you, no stiff society stuff must rule our relationship. You have been a true
support to me and Margaret, all these long months, and you are like family, now that Nicholas is
marrying my mother. Call me John, I insist!”
Mary smiled back.
“Alright, ... John ...”
It still sounded a little awkward to her modest ears!
“John, forgive me for meddling with you but Margaret asked me to ... as she called it, ‘keep an eye on
you’. She was particularly worried that you should overdo it in your work and that you ... forgive the
expression, should starve yourself in the line of your duty.”
She then opened the basket she had brought with her and extracted a big bowl of stew and a large
chunk of bread, all of which she expertly placed under his nose on top of the papers lying on his desk.
The heavenly smell of warm, freshly cooked meat assaulted John’s nose and he gave in with a hearty
laugh.
“Thank you, Mary! It is most welcome, I am ravenous!”
While he was tucking in with a healthy appetite, Mary hesitantly continued:
“If you would allow me some more meddling, John, I have something I want to propose to you.”
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Chapter Four - Working for Marlborough Mills
John’s hand, holding a spoon full of stew, stopped half way up to his mouth in surprise. This was the
first time ever Mary ‘proposed’ something to him!
“Yes, Mary?”
“Well ... I couldn’t help notice you are being overtaken by work and a lot of it is that of an office
clerk, filling in the ledgers, calculating and checking numbers, writing letters and so on. Do you
remember little Tom Boucher? John, thanks to your kind concern, the boy, now eight, has become an
astute little fellow who is particularly good at mathematics. His school teacher, Mr Debenham, even
refers to him as ‘brilliant’. His handwriting is neat and very legible. Maybe he could give you a hand,
as an junior office hand?”
John put down his spoon and grabbed Mary’s hand in so fierce a grasp that she startled!
“Mary, Mary, thank you! Now why haven’t I thought about that? It is simply perfect! Bring him to me
this instant. He will do very nicely, I’m sure!”
~~~~
Although the meeting at the Assembly Hall was very instructive, Margaret was glad to return to
Harley Street when it was over. She had been participating and asking questions throughout the
debate and lectures, frantically making notes and instructing Dixon to go hunting for pamphlets.
Now, at the end of a very long morning, she felt exhausted. Her back was troubling her something
fiercely and her head was spinning. Dixon’s reproaches on what she called Margaret’s foolish
behaviour did nothing to relieve the headache she had. When they came out into the courtyard, they
had an unpleasant surprise; their cab was nowhere to be seen.
“Miss, you go back inside and I’ll go fetch another one!,” Dixon ordered.
“No, Dixon, let’s go together. No need for you to go on your own.”
Leaning heavily on Dixon’s sturdy arm, Margaret left the courtyard into the narrow Throgmorton
Street and the pair of them set foot in the direction of the broader London Wall thoroughfare.
She bit her lower lip at the pain in her back. Dr Donaldson had been trying to reassure her about it,
saying it was only her pelvis ligaments elongating, caused by her growing belly. This way her body
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prepared itself to give birth. It did hurt mightily and she had to stifle a groan when she overturned
her ankle and the shock reverberated through her belly. Thanks to Dixon’s strong grasp on her arm
she did not fall.
“Margaret! Margaret, for God’s sake, what are you doing out here?”
They both turned toward the voice and saw, to their infinite relief, Henry Lennox, alighting from his
carriage.
~~~~
When Tom Boucher entered the office, John stood and bid him welcome, motioning to a chair in
front of his desk.
“Hello, Tom! How are you? I hear you want to come and work for me?”
The boy, who had grown quite a bit over the last two years, beamed at him and replied:
“Oh, yes, Mr Thornton, sir! I would very much like that! I am quite good at maths and I can write a
clear hand, sir. Mary told me to bring these with me, so you could see for yourself.”
Tom handed over a map to John who opened and studied it. Mary had not at all been exaggerating.
The boy wrote an impeccable hand and his calculating examples were neat and correct. John smiled
at him and looked him over.
“You have grown a lot since I last saw you, Tom. What is it, some three inches?”
“Three and a half, Mr Thornton, sir!,” Tom beamed.
John realised he had neglected to inquire about the boy’s health and progress even though he
promised himself to do so after discovering that Nicholas had taken Boucher’s children in. Thank God
Mary had cared for them!
“Well, Tom, I want you to come into the office at eight in the morning and take care of all the
administration, a task for which I do not have time. You will work until five pm and you will take
three meals a day in the kitchen of my house. I will inform my cook about this. I will pay you a weekly
salary of nine shillings a week with a monthly raise of half a shilling, if you keep up the good work.
Here are some of the ledgers from the supply that have to be updated.”
John led Tom to a high writing desk and gestured him to climb on the high stool.
“Tom?”
The serious note in John’s voice made the boy look him straight into the face.
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“Yes, Mr Thornton, sir?”
“I do hope you are aware of the fact that all things in here are confidential? You are not to speak
about any of these affairs to any one, not even to Mary. Do you understand, Tom?”
The blue eyes of the boy stared into his own with grave honesty.
“Yes, Mr Thornton, I do understand. You have my word, Sir.”
~~~~
That night, John Thornton sat in his parlour after he dined alone in his dining room.
The house was very quiet and dark, all noises coming to an end as evening settled in. The factory
itself seemed to have grown silent, as it did every night at ten pm, when the last shift of workers
went home. John was always aware of the ending of work but never as acutely as now, when he was
alone in his house, without everyone he loved.
Never before, not even in earlier times of being rejected by her, had John felt Margaret’s absence
more deeply than now. His darling wife had become a part of him. Without her he was lost.
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Chapter Five - Startling News
Margaret woke to the grey dawn of April in a London drenched by rain. She had slept very badly as
she always seemed to do lately, when John was not beside her in the bed. John ... oh, how she
missed him! His gentle reassurance after a day’s hard work, his sweet soothing of her, with kisses
and caresses ... John ... the handsome face of her husband came into her mind and she felt a stab of
sheer loss of not having him close to her! Only four days ... four long, lonely days ... without John.
With a sigh Margaret rose and readied herself for her second day in the Empire’s capital. As she did
so, her baby violently kicked.
~~~~
In Milton John woke after the most wretched night he ever had.
Damn! How was he supposed to sleep without his wife next to him? And then, this empty house,
without even his mother! Damn! His world had been turned upside down!
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He dragged himself out of bed and dressed. It was barely six am and still dark but he made a point of
being there when the first shift arrived. Just so that the workers knew their master shared their
working hours.
Tom was already in the office, busily jotting down numbers in one of the large ledgers.
“Good Lord, boy! And you here in this blistering cold? Why do you come here so early? Mr Williams
does not light the stove before eight am!”
“I don’t feel the cold, Mr Thornton, sir!”, Tom beamed, “I awoke at five and couldn’t stay in bed! Not
with all the work there’s to be done!”
John laughed.
“Be sure to go down to the house for breakfast, Tom. I notified Cook you would.”
“Right, sir!”
Margaret entered the waiting room of Dr Mortimer Chelmsford, renowned gynaecologist in London’s
Harley Street, which hosted the residences of a vast amount of famous (read: exclusive and
expensive) members of the medical profession. A very dignified lady at the reception led her into it,
indicating a chair.
“The doctor will see you soon, Ma’am,” she proclaimed in a rigid manner and retired.
Margaret waited, her nervousness mounting as time ticked away. Although she had a deep trust in
Dr Donaldson and his abilities, she was anxious to hear the opinion of the London doctor on her
pregnancy. Just to be on the safe side. She remembered all too well how precarious the situation had
been in the first months of waiting anxiously for a miscarriage to happen.
Dr Chelmsford was not at all as Margaret had imagined he would. For instance, he was young; he
could not be more than thirty-five. He was also very reassuring , cordially welcomed her into his
office and held out a chair for her. His big brown eyes shone with warm interest and his large mouth
smiled readily while he penned down her data on a page of the record book he kept for his patients.
He did not interrupt Margaret before she told him the whole story about her pregnancy.
“Well, Mrs Thornton, if you would be so kind as to step behind that screen? I would like you to
disrobe of your coat, shirt, skirt and corset, if you please? Then, pray, stretch out onto the couch.”
Feeling a trifle awkward, Margaret did as he asked. She stiffened when the doctor began to probe
the swollen mound of her belly with gentle hands.
“Please, Mrs Thornton, I beg you to relax. This procedure is very necessary in order to establish the
position and condition of your baby. I will endeavour not to prolong it beyond its necessity. Now,
close your eyes, think of pleasant, soothing things.”
With an effort, Margaret directed her thoughts to the man she loved beyond everything. She forced
herself to recall John’s face and brilliant blue eyes, his smile when he looked at her, his upright frame
and long legs. John ... only four days and she would be with him again.
“There, Mrs Thornton, that part is over. Now, I want you to be very brave. There is one examination I
have to do and it is not a pleasant one. I must ascertain myself of the condition of the cervix.”
Margaret gasped.
“But ... doctor, how will you ...”
Dr Chelmsford took one of her hands and squeezed it gently.
“I must ask you to put yourself into my hands, Mrs Thornton. If you prefer not to be alone with me
during this examination, I will ask my assistant to be present. That way propriety will be satisfied.
Would you like Mrs Dorcas, who is a respectfully married lady with two children, to be present?”
“Yes, please,” Margaret whispered.
After what was positively the most horrible ten minutes of her entire life, Margaret was allowed to
dress again. She was a trifle wobbly in the legs when she returned to the chair in front of Dr
Chelmsford’s desk. When Mrs Dorcas, face still placidly unperturbed, handed her a cup of fragrant,
steaming tea, she gladly accepted. The tea was strong and sweet and after she drained the cup
greedily, Margaret felt almost restored to her old self.
“Mrs Thornton,” the doctor said gravely, “I have some ... disturbing news for you. I must inform you of
the fact that you are carrying twins.”
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Chapter Six – A Narrow Escape
At Marlborough Mills things were busy but progressing very nicely.
John was supervising the installation of looms in one of his new sheds and at this moment, he wished
Nicholas could have been with him. Higgins’ vast knowledge of machinery would have served him
well but it would be at least another week before he and Hannah would be back in Milton. Thank
God his mother was getting back on her feet without any visible setbacks, John thought.
He redirected his attention to the affairs in hand.
Three groups of sturdy workmen were building up an equal number of Lancashire Looms in the vast
new hall, especially built for just that. The looms were the latest invention and very expensive. John
and Margaret had invested a great part of their fortune in the acquisition of the three of them. It was
of vital importance, therefore, that they would be functioning as soon as possible.
Hovering at the entrance of the hall were a group of women of Mary’s infirmary ward, taking their
break. Some of them had their children with them and the little ones were running around and
laughing and playing. Mary had organized a neat scheme of turning shifts and she was now
employing thirty young workers’ wives, who were prevented from working because they had
recently given birth or had too many children under the age of six. Children older than six would be
at the factories working as “scavengers”. Their task consisted in crawling under the looms to collect
pieces of cloth and tie up loose ends. It was a dangerous job and many children were injured, some
met their deaths when caught up in the looms. John always insisted on a thorough training
beforehand and asked Mr Williams, his overseer, to keep a firm eye on the children. Mr Williams had
an overseer in every shed, so that the children could be watched.
John was attentively watching the progress of assembling the looms, when, like a flash of lightning, a
small form slid under one of the machines, giggling and shrieking. The worker, holding up one of the
warp beams, startled and the heavy beam slit from his hands. He managed to get a grip but his
hands, not getting the right hold, kept slipping. Without thinking, John plunged under the loom,
snatched the child and literally threw it from under the menacing beam.
At that moment, with a sound like thunder, the beam crashed down on John.
~~~~
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Margaret was numb with bewilderment as she stammered:
“Tw ... twins ... you’re ... you ... but ... doctor ...”
“Mrs Thornton, please, collect yourself. There is no need for panic. You must proceed as you did until
now, only, you need to lie down every couple of hours. Try not to be on your feet for too long. Be
careful with your food. Nothing too fat or too sugary, no alcohol or coffee, but lots of fluids, tea or
water. You must forestall the gain of too much weight. Now, we must get you home and, do not
worry, I will order my coachman to drive you home.”
“Surely, doctor,” Margaret began, “my aunt’s house is 300 yards down the street and ...”
“No arguing, Mrs Thornton, if you please? You had a shock, you need to rest, to be calm. No straining
exercise anymore today.”
Margaret had to admit she was indeed in shock. Twins ... how on earth was she to tell John?
When she entered her aunt’s house, Edith came out of the drawing room.
“Oh, dear! Margaret, you look awful! Come and sit down, sweetheart. Holly, help me with Mrs
Thornton.”
They lowered Margaret onto a chair and Dixon, who came whirling in, fell on her knees beside her
mistress.
“Oh, my dear Miss Margaret! I must get you to bed immediately.”
“No,” Margaret said, “I’m fine. I just need to lie down a bit.”
To emphasize this, she rose. A sharp stab of pain in her lower back made her gasp but that was not
the worse. All of a sudden, out of the blue, she had a horrible feeling something was very wrong ...
with John ...
~~~~
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For a few seconds everybody in the hall just stood rooted to the ground in shock!
Then Mr Williams bellowed to haul up the warp beam and secure it. He kneeled and crawled toward
the master who lay motionless on his stomach, his arm bent back in a weird angle and blood trickling
of a wound at the back of his head. Mr Williams put out a shaking hand and touched the master’s
neck. A pulse ... thank God, there was a heartbeat! A very weak one ...
They sent for Dr Donaldson who gave directions as how to retrieve John from under the loom. A
board was slowly slit under the master’s body and they carried him to Dr Donaldson’s surgery, three
blocks away. All the way, a large and totally silent mass of workers followed the stretcher, a mass
growing more and more.
The word was spreading rapidly through the city: John Thornton, master of Marlborough Mills had
just been gravely, maybe fatally, injured.
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Chapter Seven – Reunited
“Twins! Oh, my God, Margaret, that is disastrous! You could die! Oh, heavens!”
Edith stood beside the couch upon which they had laid Margaret after she collapsed a few minutes
earlier. She had thought it advisable to tell her aunt and cousin about what Dr Chelmsford told her.
Edith was wringing her hands in despair and Aunt Shaw, sitting on a nearby chair, was silently
weeping, as if Margaret were already dead.
Suddenly Mrs Shaw jumped up and said in a determined voice:
“You must stay here for the rest of your pregnancy. With Dr Chelmsford, as your physician, of course.
His knowledge and the fact that he lives nearby are now of vital importance for your health,
Margaret. I shall instruct the butler to send a telegram to your husband.”
“No!”
Margaret sat upright and said vehemently:
“I must go back to Milton! I feel ... no, I know something is not right! With John ... something has
happened to John!”
Edith and Mrs Shaw stared at her as if she had suddenly grown two heads.
“I cannot explain, auntie,” Margaret said softly, tears blurring her vision, “I just know it. John is in
danger, I have to go to him.”
~~~~
At one point on the train ride back to Milton, Margaret stopped listening to Dixon’s endless
complaints about their returning home so soon. It was keeping her mind off John and she did not
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want that. Something had transpired in Milton and it had affected her husband. Of that she was
absolutely sure. She needed to be with John, as soon as possible.
Although they had taken seats in the first class carriage of the train, upholstered with soft, red plush
seat cushions, Margaret was not comfortable at all. Her back ached and her head swam. She could
not help thinking of her unborn babies and what would become of them when the birth took place.
She now realised that the reason for her being so heavy was the fact that she was bearing two
children instead of one. How was she to give birth to them? Would they survive? Would she survive
herself? However, all that was not the worst of it. No, it was John and what it was that had befallen
him, for she was convinced it would be something dreadful! God! Could this confounded train go any
slower than this?
~~~~
In Dr Donaldson’s small surgery John was laid upon an examination table. Mary hurried in after the
doctor and between the two of them they proceeded in establishing the damage. After a while, Dr
Donaldson breathed a sigh of relief.
“It is not as bad as it looks like, Mary. He’s got a dislocated shoulder. We must set it instantly
otherwise, his muscles will cramp up too much. Help me undress him, I want to examine his rib
cage.”
In her quiet, discreet way, Mary did as she was asked. With careful she eased John out of his coat and
shirt, as gently as she could. It did not keep him from uttering a groan of pain but he did not wake up.
Dr Donaldson’s hands started probing John’s torso which was already beginning to show ugly bruises
all over the broad chest and back.
“No broken ribs, thank God. Now, Mary, I’m going to turn him a bit on his side. Okay, so far so good.
Keep him in that position and steady his head. Gently, please?”
With caution the doctor’s fingers examined the back of John’s head and the base of his neck.
“No, there is no fracture, as far as I can feel.”
A loud groan from the patient startled them both.
“Hell, Donaldson! I’m dying here! What did you do to me, you old scoundrel?”
“Mr Thornton, you’re awake? Steady, Mary, ease him onto his back again.”
~~~~
By the time they had arrived at Outward Milton Station, Margaret was in a fine state of panic. The
ride had taken much longer, due to a delay somewhere on the line, where she had been pacing up
and down the platform, fretting about John, until, finally, the train master had given the signal for
departure. It was already dark and a fine fog was curling over the platform as Dixon and her mistress
alighted from the train. They hurried into a hansom cab and Dixon ordered the driver to
Marlborough Mills. Then she turned to her mistress.
“Miss Margaret, how are you feeling? I hope ...”
“I am fine enough, Dixon, do not fuss.”
Margaret lay her hand on Dixon’s.
“Dixon, dear Dixon, I am going to have a great need of you, the days to came. I cannot say why, I just
know it.”
“I will always be at your service, Miss, you know that, I hope?”
“Yes, Dixon, I do.”
At Marlborough Mills a surprise awaited Margaret. Jenny, the maid that had replaced Jane, told her
that the master had been taken to Dr Donaldson’s surgery.
~~~~
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“So, all that’s wrong with me, is a dislocated shoulder? Damnation, Donaldson, how can this hurt so
much? It’s like a hot poker is being plunged into it!”
“I really must set it now, Mr Thornton. It is already far too long since they brought you here and your
muscles are cramping up.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Get on with it!”
“Wait, doctor!”
John’s heart leapt at hearing the beloved voice of his Margaret. He pushed Donaldson aside and
there she was!
“Darling!”, he exclaimed, “What the devil are you doing here?”
He had meant it as a joke but when he saw Margaret’s ashen face, he sobered quite quickly.
Margaret rushed to him, then checked herself.
“Doctor, what is wrong with him?”
“Not much, Mrs Thornton. A dislocated shoulder and a concussion. Now, if you will forgive me,
Ma’am, I must set the shoulder.”
“Donaldson, surely, if I’m to be subjected to torture, I’m entitled to kiss my wife first. Come here, you
adorable darling of mine.”
Not caring of Donaldson’s and Mary’s seeing it, John drew Margaret close with his good arm and
kissed her soundly and squarely on her lovely mouth.
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Chapter Eight – Taking the Reins
Dr Donaldson coughed discretely but with mild indulgence as he watched the two young people
embrace. Misfortune seemed to follow them wherever they went and whenever they were happy.
Mrs Thornton, her pretty face flushed, apologized.
“Pray, Ma’am, do not take offense. I have to attend to Mr Thornton’s injury without delay.”
“Oh, how clumsy of me , I ...”
“Sweetheart,” John chuckled, “don’t you think you have embarrassed poor Donaldson enough? Get
on with it, doctor.”
He then gripped his wife’s hand.
The doctor motioned John to lie down
and then placed his knee onto John’s
bare chest. He got hold of John’s
shoulder and heaved with all his
might. John let out a muffled grunt of
pain and sweat broke out all over his
face. Margaret tried not to wince
when her hand was being crushed by
her husband’s grip.
“I’m sorry, Mr Thornton,” Donaldson
said, “I’m afraid I’ll have to try again.”
John’s face was white as a sheet but
he nodded. Margaret felt faint with
worry but she remained at her
husband’s side, biting her lip in
powerless frustration and bracing
herself.
Dr Donaldson gave it another try and
this time the dry snap of the joint
jumping back into place told him he
had succeeded. John’s hand relaxed
and his head fell aside as he passed out with pain.
Margaret went to sit on the bed and took her husband’s head onto her lap, brushing the hair back
from his wet brow.
“What has happened, Dr Donaldson? How did he get so badly injured?”
~~~~
Margaret took charge of her husband’s transfer from the surgery to their house. She knew all too
well John would want to be in his own home. Dixon helped her putting John to bed and both women
were grateful he was still unconscious. Even though Dr Donaldson had thoroughly bound up the
injured shoulder, every move would give him excruciating pain. To the purpose of relief the doctor
gave Margaret a small supply of laudanum which she was to slip into his tea.
After they were done, Margaret left Jenny as a watch beside John’s bed, instructing her to come and
call her, should he wake up.
Outside, at the front door, she found a large group of workers, anxious to hear news about the
master.
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“Thank you, all of you, for coming. Thank you, also, for caring about my husband. Mr Thornton is safe
enough and he will resume his responsibilities as a master of this mill within a few days. In the mean
time, I would like you to carry out your jobs as you always do.”
The workers sheered and clapped and Margaret smiled a bit wanly, not wanting to show her fears to
them. From somewhere at the back of the group Mary came advancing toward her, holding a young
woman by the hand. The girl, for that was what she was, was clutching a small boy in her arms.
“Margaret,” Mary said, in her quiet way, “can we talk? Inside?”
In the parlour Mary began explaining who the girl was and what she was there for. While Margaret
listened to the story, the girl started crying while it was unravelling. The boy cried too, feeling his
mother’s distress.
“Oh, Dinah, I am so happy that little Paulie was not hurt. Do not weep, my dear. All will be well with
Mr Thornton, he is not too seriously hurt.”
“Ma’am, I’m so sorry, really, Ma’am, I couldn’t stop Paulie from crawling under ...”
“Shhh, shhh, it’s alright, Dinah. Mary, take her to the kitchen and ask Cook to make her a nice cup of
tea. I hope Paulie is alright, he is not injured?”
“Oh, no, Mrs Thornton, Ma’am. He’s right as rain.”
~~~~
After she had accompanied Mary to the infirmary hall, Margaret applied herself to help her friend
see to the long line of sufferers which were seeking help, as always. Most of them were mothers with
young children and the women were extremely young. Girls as well as boys grew up too fast in the
worker’s society, due to sheer necessity. Thanks to Mary’s excellent stewardship there were now a
dozen of young female helpers, each trained to do a specific task. Debbie, a recently widowed girl of
barely eighteen, had learned to read and write under Mary’s tutelage and was now employed and
paid as a secretary. Her task was the recording of the patient’s names and ailments and the triage
into groups with similar medicinal problems. That way Mary and Margaret could work faster and
more efficiently. The really bad cases would be directed to Dr Donaldson’s surgery, of course.
Margaret had established a small fund in order to compensate the good doctor for any expenses
made on behalf of the patients.
There was, however, not enough space to accommodate all the patients and Margaret spoke to Mary
and Donaldson about this, one morning. It was three days since she had returned from London and
they were assembled in the master’s bedroom where the doctor had come to examine John.
“Dr Donaldson, we have to take measures about the infirmary. It is too small.”
“Darling,” John intervened, “It cannot spare another hall of the mill. I have not enough space
already.”
Margaret hastened to take his hand in hers.
“I was not planning to organize another ward at Marlborough Mills, sweetheart, don’t trouble
yourself. No, I wanted to ask Dr Donaldson to help us. Surely you know of a location where we might
establish a ward, doctor?”
“I will give it serious thought, Mrs Thornton,” the doctor replied and began storing away his
instruments.
“Now, Mr Thornton, you must be careful with that arm. Do not remove the bandage and, for the love
of God, do not use it!”
John protested immediately.
“Donaldson, it is my right arm! How am I supposed to do my job?”
The good doctor threw his hands up in a gesture of utter despair and Margaret, having a hard time
suppressing a giggle, took him gently by the arm and led him outside.
“I will see to it,” she whispered, “thank you, Dr Donaldson, for caring so much for him.”
She personally escorted the doctor to the front door and watched him as he mounted his carriage. In
the mill’s courtyard workers, men and women both, were bustling around doing their job. Margaret
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
loved to watch them, knowing they were working, not only for Marlborough Mills, but also for
themselves and their families.
Another carriage came rattling through the mill’s gate, just as Margaret wanted to close the door.
Out came, in a flurry of muslin skirts and silk ribbons, the dainty figure of her sister-in-law, Fanny
Watson!
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Nine – Family Troubles
“Oh, Margaret, you must help me, you simply must! I am lost, I am doomed, if you do not help me!”
Fanny Watson stumbled out of the carriage, fanning herself with the pretty hat she was supposed to
be wearing on her head. Instead her fingers were crushing its rim in a dead grip. Margaret saw a
dozen heads turning in the direction of Fanny’s shrill cries and work stopped momentarily because
no one wanted to miss a thing. She hastily took her sister-in-law by the arm.
“Fanny, what has happened? Please, come in! Let us talk quietly once we are inside, eh?”
As soon as they entered the parlour, Fanny flung herself onto the settee and whined:
“It is a disaster! Oooohhhh!”
She turned her head toward Margaret, looked her over from head to feet and burst into a fit of tears.
“Oh! Look at you! Can you imagine me ... oh, dear Mother of God, no! Noooo!!!”
Margaret stared at her in bewilderment, not knowing what to do or what to say. Fanny did not
appear to suffer from some injury or to be ill, so why the racket?
“How on earth is a man supposed to be resting when all hell seems to break loose in his house?”
John stood in the door way, supporting his right shoulder with his left hand and scowling like
Margaret had never seen him do before!
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Fanny, not in the least daunted, answered him readily enough!
“And why, in Heaven’s name, can a woman not speak her own mind in her brother’s house? Just go
away, John, I must have a talk with Margaret and we do not need you here. Haven’t you got any
work to do for the confounded factory or so?”
“Fanny!”, Margaret gasped in extreme horror, “Please, can’t you see John is injured? He has a
dislocated shoulder. I must beg you for a bit of restraint, here?”
“Ha!”, Fanny’s brother exclaimed, “Restraint, you say, darling? She has never even heard of the
word, hare-brained nitwit that she is! What are you doing here, Fanny? Is there any chance I might
discover that today?”
In reply to this question, Fanny again broke down in a spurt of tears, pressing her scrap of lace tightly
against her face.
“It is outrageous! It is not to be endured! He must be out of his mind! He must be insane!”
“Who, for God’s sake!”, her brother bellowed in sheer despair.
“Watson! That’s who! Do you even know what he means to inflict upon me? What he wants me to
do? It is impossible, I tell you! He cannot want to do that to me!”
John closed his eyes in exasperation, took a deep, steadying breath and asked in a low, barely
controlled voice:
“What, Fanny, does Watson want to inflict upon you?”
Fanny sat upright, blew her nose as hard as she could and declared in a voice full of impending doom:
“Motherhood!”
Margaret and John stared at each other, lost for words. John let himself down into a chair and
supported his head with his good arm. His wife kneeled beside her sister-in-law and took Fanny’s
limp hand in hers. She then asked softly:
“Fanny, are you telling us that your husband wishes you to have a baby?”
“Yes! I cannot fathom why he would want a child, all of a sudden! He has never said so before but
now, he is forever complaining of getting older and how time flies by and ... Oh! I cannot do it,
Margaret, it simply boggles the mind!”
And she was sobbing again ...
Margaret turned to John and motioned him to go away. John rolled his eyes but complied.
“Fanny? Fanny, please, listen to me.”
At that moment Dixon came in. She took stock of the situation in one second and her honest face
wrinkled in disgust.
“Would you like me to bring some tea, Miss Margaret?”, she asked, also rolling her eyes.
“Oh, yes, thank you, Dixon! That would be splendid!”
Margaret waited for the tea to be brought and then poured two cups. She handed Fanny one of
them and took a sip of her own before speaking.
“I was first having mixed feelings when John and I discovered I was pregnant. It seemed so soon and
we had barely had the time to get used to each other. I was afraid too, I still am, especially now that I
know I am expecting twins.”
Fanny let out a wail of genuine horror.
“What? Oh, poor Margaret! Oh, my God, how horrible!”
“No, Fanny, it is not! It is wonderful, it is ... oh, I cannot describe it! I feel ... blessed, honoured,
special! I cannot wait for the day of the children’s birth to arrive!”
“But ... but Margaret, you could ... you could die! You will suffer from horrible pains, maybe you will
be weakened, injured, wrecked! And all for what? Even if all goes well, you will have two
troublesome, howling children to care for, day and night. The worst of it is, you could easily become
pregnant again, right after the birth. Oh, Margaret, you could have a child each year, over and over
again! You could be completely withered and old, even before you reach the age of forty! Ooooh!”
Margaret sighed deeply. How was she to explain the wonderful feelings she had about her
pregnancy? About the joy John and she felt every day in the knowledge that they would become
parents?
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
“You know, Fanny, I do not think you love your husband the way he deserves.”
Her voice had been matter-of-fact and detached but it seemed to prompt a different reaction with
Fanny than the ones she had shown so far. Now, Fanny was indignant!
“For your information, Margaret, I do respect Watson well enough and I dare say you cannot possibly
have any idea of how I am conducting my housewifely duties! You have never even visited us. I
assure you everything is even more impeccable than here!”
“Yes,” Margaret said softly, “but do you really love him? Are you waiting in anticipation for him to
come home each night after a busy day’s work? Are you anxious when he is late and wondering
whether something has befallen him? Are you listening to his breathing at night, revelling at the
thought that he loves and worships only you? Are you, Fanny?”
Fanny Watson stared at her incomprehensibly, as if she had spoken another language altogether.
Margaret grabbed her hands and pressed them forcibly.
“Fanny, I was in London recently visiting my aunt and cousin. At one strange moment I knew, I simply
knew something had happened to John, something bad! I did not know what it was but I knew he
was in danger, as surely as I would have been at his side. I returned immediately and found him here,
with a dislocated shoulder and a concussion. Fanny, I cannot describe the relief I felt, seeing him
alive! Every time something happens to John, I die a little, Fanny! I cannot conceive my life without
John, Fanny! He is a part of my very body, Fanny, he is my heart, my soul! Fanny, I do love him so!”
27
Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Ten – Family Joys
A noise from below sounded all of a sudden, breaking the strange mood between the two women.
Nicholas’ deep voice was rumbling with laughter, along with Hannah’s unmitigated giggle.
“Nicholas Higgins, put me down this instant! This is not your house and it is not yet our honeymoon!”
“Ah, but I figured to have a try in carrying you over the threshold, my girl! You finally seem to have
put on a bit of flesh in these past weeks, so I’d thought finding out if I actually still could carry you in
my arms!”
A look of absolute and horrible disgust showed on Fanny’s face as she exclaimed:
“Oh, Good God! This cannot be true! This must be my worst nightmare!”
She jumped up when Nicholas burst in carrying her mother in his arms and let out a cry of disgust
when she saw Hannah had her arms wrapped firmly around his neck.
“Mother!”
Fanny drew herself up and fixed Hannah with a look worthy of her brother’s worst scowl.
“In Christ’s name, will you show some dignity? And you, you ... horrible man, put her down at once!
You scoundrel, you ruffian, you ...”
She then rushed toward the couple with raised fists and would have pounded on Nicholas had not
John come in and grabbed her with his good arm.
“Fanny, dear,” he mocked, “I’m sure Watson is a trifle worried about you, right now. I think it’s time
you went home.”
His sister let out a wholehearted ‘Oof!’, gathered up her skirts and stalked out of the room.
“Nicholas, my friend,” John addressed him, “I think you can put Mother down safely now.”
Higgins did so and the two man shook hands vigorously.
“Ah, John! It’s good to be back! Come and embrace your mother!”
John smiled at Hannah, took her hand and kissed it.
“Mother, how are you?”
“Oh, John!”, Hannah laughed and put her arms around him.
“What have you been doing? Is it true you threw yourself under a loom?”
Of course, the men wanted to go and see the mill so Margaret and Hannah were on their own. After
Dixon brought in a fresh pot of tea, the two women could finally catch up;
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“Margaret, is he going to be alright? You’re sure he has no other injuries than the dislocated
shoulder?”
“Yes, mother, that is all. It has been a close call, however. Thank God it was for the good of the little
boy. I am actually very proud of John, you know.”
“Yes, me too. Now, what was all that about with our Fanny? What is she up to now?”
After Margaret told her, Hannah sighed deeply.
“I do not understand, Margaret. What have I done wrongly? I tried to give both of my children a
proper education and a true understanding of good, solid human values but it seems only my son
profited from that.”
“Mother, Fanny is still so very young and all she can think about, is her comfort. I tried to explain it to
her, what is was that makes a woman proud of bearing her husband’s child but I fear I failed.”
Suddenly, a distressing thought struck her.
“Oh, heavens! I have told Fanny something even John does not know yet! Oh, God! She ... she has
not gone to the factory, has she?”
“No, you need not worry about that, dear. I do not think Fanny has ever set foot into the factory in
her whole life. She hates it. Why did you say that?”
Margaret swallowed and coloured bright red.
“Because I have revealed something to her that I should have told John first. Mother, I am expecting
twins. I do not want John to hear it from another than me.”
Hannah stared at her in astonishment.
“Good Lord, child! This is ... astonishing news! How do you know? Did you learn this in London?”
“Yes, I did. Oh, I don’t know how John is going to react to this!”
“Well, Margaret, you’d better tell him tonight. John is fairly down-to earth, I am sure he will take it
like a man.”
Hannah smiled encouragingly and patted Margaret’s hands. The latter promised herself to tell her
husband the good news the same night.
“So, Mother, is your health fully restored? When are you planning on marrying Nicholas?”
The older woman suddenly got a dreamy look in her eyes which made her look twenty years
younger.
“Oh, Margaret, he has been so good to me! Yes, I’m pretty much like my old self again, thanks to
Nicholas. He was with me every step of the way, supporting me during the obligatory daily walks and
watching over me to eat properly and rest sufficiently.”
Hannah paused and Margaret saw her cheeks were flushed rosy.
“I don’t know what has come over me, Margaret, but I am so very happy! It has been a long time
since I felt like this. My marriage to Charles, John’s father, was a happy one but the shadow of his
death always tamped down the good memories of the past. I had grown bitter and cold over the
years, Margaret, only leaving room to care for John and Fanny. I only now realise that I blamed
myself for Charles’ suicide, thinking he didn’t trust me enough to confide in me in his hour of need.
Nicholas has made me see that all this was unnecessary. He gave me some perspective again and a
lot of joy.”
“That is good, Mother. You certainly deserve that and I know you and Nicholas will be very happy
together. So when is it going to be?”
“In four weeks, June the second. Oh, Margaret, there is so much to be done! I don’t know how ...”
“Shhh, Mother, do not worry. I will help you and so will John. Just give him a day or two to
recuperate from his fall.”
That night, Margaret felt yet again exhausted.
Her back did not stop hurting whichever position she was in. Sitting or standing, walking or reclining,
it was all alike. She had to suppress a groan when she rose from the settee to accompany her
husband to their bedchamber. John was instantly at her side, his eyes large with concern.
“Darling, what is it? Are you unwell?”
He slung his good arm around her waist when he saw her stagger.
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“Damn! This bloody shoulder keeps me from taking proper care of you! Here, lean on me,
sweetheart, let us go to our room.”
To be sure, there was the omnipresent Dixon.
“Shall I give you some assistance, Master?”
“No, Dixon, thank you. I’ll manage.”
In their room, John lowered Margaret onto the bed. She grabbed his hand and looked up to him.
“John, darling, I have to tell you something which might cause you concern.”
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Eleven – Taking Care of Margaret
“Concern? Margaret, sweetheart, are you alright? Is something amiss with the baby?”
Blue eyes full of alarm, John dropped onto his knees in front of Margaret. Since the beginning of her
pregnancy, he had doubts and fears about it, although he had recently begun to relax because she
seemed fine and healthy. Margaret hastened to reassure him.
“No, no, do not panic, John! I’m fine, really, I am. It’s just ...”
She took his face into her hands and brushed the tumbled black locks back from his brow.
“I’m carrying twins, John. That is why I’m so heavy and so easily tired.”
Dumbfounded and aghast, John stared at his wife. He felt like he had just received a kick in the
stomach and a feeling of absolute terror began rising in his chest.
“Oh, Margaret,” he whispered hoarsely, “I do not know what to say. This is ... this cannot be true?”
He placed his hand on Margaret’s heavily swollen belly which immediately caused a reaction from his
offspring. John startled, realising in overwhelming fear that there were now two of them inside his
wife’s delicate body.
“John, my darling John, look at me. It is true and we must deal with it. I went to see Dr Chelmsford
when I was in London. He told me the pregnancy would only grow more difficult but I have a fairly
good chance of carrying the babies closer to full term if I were to take enough rest. I will probably go
into premature labour so I must try and hold on as long as I can.”
She smiled at him, a very wavering little smile which pierced John’s heart.
“But ... but what about the delivery, sweetheart? Won’t it be ... dangerous? Will the babies survive?
Margaret ... will you? Oh, Margaret!”
He couldn’t help himself but buried his face into her lap. Strong man though he was, he couldn’t
suppress the huge wave of crushing fear raging through his heart and soul. It lasted only a few
seconds and then John raised his head again and stood.
“Come, my love,” he said,” let’s get you to bed.”
When Margaret was safely settled against the pillows, John prepared himself for bed and joined her.
Letting her body rest against his own, he gently stroked her hair.
“My brave, beautiful Margaret,” he said solemnly, “I promise you I will do everything that is in my
power to assist and comfort you. We will weather this, my darling, together we will prevail.”
By the evening of the next day, all the rest of Milton and Marlborough Mills seemed to know that
young Mrs Thornton was expecting twins and the Master himself was in a fit state of rage about it.
Everywhere he so much as showed his face, people were grinning knowingly at him or clapping him
on the back with a well-meant word of congratulation. John stomped into the parlour of his house
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around eight pm to find his mother, Nicholas, Mary, Dixon and even Donaldson there but not his
wife. They were all fixing him with a determined gaze.
Hannah rose swiftly to lay a soothing hand upon his arm.
“Before you ask, John, Margaret is resting and absolutely fine. Now, come and sit down. We have
things to discuss.”
Nicholas pressed a whisky into his hands and pushed him gently on one of the settees.
“John,” he said in a efficient tone, “we need a plan, a strategy to bring this baby business to a good
end. If I know your Margaret – and I think I do – she is not going to sit still and wait for the birth just
like that. Besides, it will just make her unhappy and nervous and that cannot be good for the babies.
It is therefore of vital importance that we keep her happy and relaxed.”
John took a large swig of his whisky and replied wearily:
“And how the devil are you going to pull this off? She’ll want to do her work at the infirmary and
she’ll be running around helping strays and ... Oh, God, she’ll drive me over the edge!”
“John Thornton!”, his mother spoke sternly, “Stop this at once! This panicking will bring you nowhere
and it is very bad for Margaret too. Listen to what Nicholas has to say.”
They were right, of course. It was just that whenever he thought of Margaret and the babies – oh,
God, the babies! – his mind seemed to go haywire and he found himself unable to think clearly. He
took a deep, steadying breath and concentrated upon Nicholas.
“From now on,” Higgins began, “we are all on a mission. It is called: ‘Operation Twins’.”
He drew a paper out of the breast pocket of his rumpled suit. Nicholas still had not grown
accustomed to fine and fancy clothes, John thought, inwardly smiling. On the paper was a list which
contained the following items:
Operation Twins – Presumed Achievement Date: July 2, 1853
1. Adjustment of Time: the children’s birth can occur in the weeks preceding this date.
Measurements To Be Taken: to keep a vigilant eye on Margaret from this day on.
2. Handling the next months of pregnancy:
Most Important Issue: to force Margaret to rest.
Measurements To Be Taken: make sure all her points of interest are being taken care of.
3. Margaret’s Points of Interest:
- John
- The Housekeeping
- The Infirmary
- The Wedding of Hannah and Nicholas
- The Delivery of the Babies
- The Care of the Babies
4. Division of Tasks and Responsibilities:
The Housekeeping – Miss Adelaide Dixon
From now on, Miss Dixon will take over the general management of the Thornton’s
housekeeping and keep at this until Margaret is well again after the babies’ birth.
The Infirmary – Miss Mary Higgins
From now on, Miss Higgins will take over the total responsibility over the working of the
Infirmary in close consultation with Dr Donaldson and his staff. The next primary goal here is
to establish a proper hospital ward in the vicinity of Marlborough Mills. An additional
planning meeting about this issue is to be held in the near future in the presence of
Margaret.
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The Wedding of Hannah and Nicholas – the two individuals concerned
Wedding date: June, 2d 1853.
No one else is allowed to have a say in this matter but the two people who are directly
concerned.
The Delivery of the Babies – Dr Abraham Donaldson
Due to the special difficulties of twin sibling birth, Dr Donaldson will ask for the assistance of
Dr Mortimer Chelmsford of Harley Street, London. In his capacity of experienced obstetrician
this gentleman is best placed to bring the matter to success. Mr John Thornton will therefore
officially request the London doctor to come and stay in Milton as soon as possible.
The Care of the Babies – General Supervision: Mrs Hannah (soon to be Higgins) Thornton
The former will urgently proceed in hiring a nurse, for the care of Margaret during and after
the delivery, and a nanny, for the care of the babies. She will also assist Margaret in
establishing a proper nursery.
She will also go in search of a wet nurse to help Margaret with the feeding of the babies once
they are born.
John – himself
John did not know whether to burst into helpless laughter or into a righteous rage over this
preposterous bit of paper. He turned to his friend with the most dark scowl he could muster and asked
in a cold, accusing tone:
“And what, Mr Nicholas Higgins, is there on this list that you want ME to do?”
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Chapter Twelve – A Trustworthy Family
“Ah!”, Nicholas exclaimed, “I knew this was going to stir him out of his whining!”
“Whining? I am not at all whining. I’m just aghast that you ... Good God, Nicholas, it’s just ... the
completeness of this list only emphasizes its enormous importance! We must indeed do all this to
keep Margaret safe and the babies to be born healthy. Thank you, my friend, thank you all. Now,
what will be my part on this list? I see you have not rounded it out yet?”
Nicholas, under Hannah’s gaze full of concern for her son, placed his hand on John’s shoulder.
“You, my friend, have the most difficult task of all. You must convince our Margaret that there is only
one rule for her to obey: she needs to rest as much as she can. You, John, must be the most vigilant
of all because you are her husband and you are close to her. Now, listen, what I have in mind.”
~~~~
At breakfast the next morning, Margaret was presented with a full delegation of friends and family.
Her husband, eyes shining with mirth, did the talking.
“My dearest, we need you to listen to what we have to say. First of all, we all love you dearly,
Margaret. Look at us all, here we are, your servants, all of us.”
Margaret’s gaze went around the company and rested for a while upon them all, one by one.
There was Mary, her very best friend and co-worker, smiling shyly at her, and Dixon, her faithful
servant and friend, her ruddy face beaming with affection. There was Dr Donaldson, tall and
trustworthy, nodding reassuringly at her. There were Nicholas and Hannah, hand in hand, towers of
strength, both of them. And then, there was John ...
Tall frame and broad shoulders erect but eyes sparkling with love, so deeply it brought tears into her
eyes. She reached out for him and he instantly came and took her into his arms. He kissed her on the
top of her head and lifted her face to his.
“Margaret, my love ...”
His voice broke as he continued.
“You are the most precious person in all our lives now. We want you to be safe and whole so please,
listen to us?”
He led her to the settee and sat her down gently.
Nicholas handed her the List, as it would be called from now on and, after the first shock of surprise,
Margaret began perusing it attentively. Her eyes gradually widened as she began to comprehend
what was written down in so many details.
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“But ... but, John, Nicholas, am I to be ... in bed ... all the time, then? How could I possibly supervise
all these projects when I am not there? I do want to rest, surely, but how could I if I am not allowed
to be bodily present?”
John saw tears in her beautiful blue eyes and he squeezed her shoulder in support.
“Be calm, my love, Nicholas has it all covered.”
Indeed, the big union man smiled broadly and clapped his hands. Two sturdy fellows came in, one of
them pushing the most comfortable wheel chair ever seen!
“Margaret, this is Crispin.”
The man in question was about thirty, at least six three and very massively built. His dark eyes shone
with humour and his broad, ruddy face beamed with affability. He bowed to Margaret and said, in a
deep bass voice:
“At your service, Ma’am, all day long!”
“And this,” Nicholas went on, “is Justin.”
Same built and height, but Justin was fair-haired and had beautiful hazel eyes which had a touch of
shyness in them.
“Your humble servant, Ma’am, at your beck and call.”
His voice was soft and deep, as if he wasn’t used to much talking.
Margaret was extremely puzzled. She liked the two men instantly but she did not understand why
they were here. Nicholas explained.
“From now on, my dear young lady,” he said in a mock stern voice, “you are not going anywhere but
in that wheel chair. Crispin and Justin here are your attendants. They will wheel you around the mill
yard and the house, even up the stairs, whenever and wherever you want to go. Have I your word
that you will employ them as intended?”
“Margaret?”, John chimed in, eyes serious.
They all stared sternly at her, even in a very immovable fashion, as if they would not take ‘no’ for an
answer. Margaret quickly pondered all that was laid before her. They were right, of course, and they
were brilliant! This ‘List’ made it possible for her to be everywhere she wanted to be and her two
attendants would provide her with the means to do so without endangering her babies and her
health.
She let her gaze wander to all those loving faces and answered:
“Dear friends, thank you for your love and concern. Yes, I will do as you suggest and follow my ‘List’
faithfully. With the support of all of you, I am sure nothing can go wrong.”
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Thirteen – Ever Recurring List Items: Housekeeping and Infirmary
Wallpaper by Kiteflyer on RichardArmitageNet
From that day on, Margaret kept her promise to her family very faithfully.
She still performed the many duties she had imposed upon herself but she was careful not to overdo.
In this she counted on the strong hands of Crispin and Justin, her two “wheelchair bearers”, as she
called them. Those trustworthy, very patient men, strong of arms and cheerful of mind, carried her
all day long wherever she wanted to go.
“Where to first, Mrs T?” Crispin would ask, as they presented themselves each morning in her
parlour.
“Kitchen, Mr Crispin!”, Margaret would reply and settle herself firmly into her wheelchair.
John had, from the very first day, spotted that the chair might be a trifle unsafe. The risk of Margaret
toppling out of it if the bearers should tilt the contraption a bit too much, had immediately come to
his attention. So John, practical as ever, fitted out the chair with a seat belt of his own design. This
was one of his own belts but padded with cotton waste as to not hurt Margaret’s body. She was very
heavy now, at 33 weeks and the month of May three weeks old.
The first day of Margaret’s new way of doing her job, John had not left her side. He had very
scrupulously observed all Crispin’s and Justin’s doings, criticized their actions whenever he saw a flaw
in them and copiously sprinkled them with advise as how to improve their work. Justin, a quiet,
patient man, had only smiled benignly at this but Crispin, being of a more feisty nature, had reacted
frequently against the Master’s interferences. Margaret had to bid John to withdraw, at the end.
John resigned himself to do so, as soon as he saw that his wife was becoming nervous under the
constant bickering between him and Crispin. Reluctantly, however.
~~~~
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Margaret’s household staff now consisted of five members, all of them living in.
There was, of course, the faithful Adelaide Dixon, who was now housekeeper of the Thornton’s
household. Directly under her was Mrs Ursula Pennywater, the widow of the former overseer at
Marlborough Mills. She and her husband had been childless and Mrs Pennywater had come to work
as a cook for Hannah when her husband died. Dixon had become great friends with Cook and they
often spent their leisure hours together, reading or talking.
Annie Babcock, the upstairs maid, was a lively girl of twenty-two, whose father and brothers worked
at the mill. She had a younger sister of twelve, Dottie, who worked as a scullery maid under Mrs
Pennywater.
Last there was the laundry maid, Jenny Hawkins, who had only recently come to the household. She
was eighteen and her parents and five brothers all worked for John at the mill.
These were the people Margaret conferred with at the beginning of each day.
There were meals to be decided, the smooth running of the household to be discussed and the many
other tasks to be carried out. It usually took half of the morning.
~~~~
After that, Justin and Crispin carried and wheeled their mistress to the Infirmary, situated in one of
the halls of Marlborough Mills. The sick and the weak amongst the workers and their families had a
special place in Margaret’s heart. She was seriously planning to increase her efforts in that field after
the babies would be born.
The vast space of the hall was divided into smaller spaces by wooden partitions. Each ward had their
own supervising female attendant watching over the smooth running of them. These women were
not real nurses. England, in the nineteenth century, had not yet training schools to that goal. It was
only in that same year of 1853, that Florence Nightingale began her own training in Paris. It would
not be before 1899, when the Council of Nurses was formed, that a proper training was established.
So, Margaret’s women were virtually untrained, but eager to learn and hard workers. They all
received a financial reward for their work which enabled them to bring in a little money for their
families.
There were, in total, eight wards, in which four types of illnesses were cared for, each with separate
spaces for men and women. One was for various injuries and fractures acquired during working
hours at the mill. Those were fairly frequent, so much so that Nicholas Higgins was seriously thinking
of installing a committee for the improvement of safety on the premises of the mill.
A second ward provided for the sick children, boys and girls separated, of course. Another space was
solely preserved for women who recently gave birth. Here mothers and their babies were properly
cared for and they were allowed to bring their young children with them when there was no one to
take care of them at home. A fourth ward was destined specifically for lung diseases, such as ‘brown
lung disease’ or byssinosis, or in popular terms ‘fluff on the lungs’. This was the illness that caused
the death of Margaret’s friend, Bessy Higgins, two years ago.
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
It was a vile disease, causing the sick person a great many discomforts, such as chest tightness and
subsequently breathing difficulties, wheezing and coughing. The patient suffered a narrowing of the
trachea in the lungs, lung scarring and, eventually death from infection or respiratory failure. There
was, unfortunately not a great thing to be done for those patients. Nurses could only try to make
them more comfortable.
John would always try to be at Margaret’s side when she visited the Infirmary.
He knew all too well how appalled she was on seeing the suffering of her dear patients. His Margaret
had a soft and tender heart for those with a lower station in life who suffered from it. It was one of
the things Margaret had taught him. Before he met her, John had not known, or not wanted to know,
about the life conditions of his workers and their families.
So, he was always with his wife on moments like this. He worried, he simply did. About Margaret and
his unborn babies.
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Fourteen – Most Urgent List Item: the Wedding
Hannah’s and Nicholas’ wedding day was approaching rapidly and Margaret wanted it to be as lovely
as could be for the pair of them. John, who first had been reluctant to see them wed, had changed
his view under Margaret’s gentle guidance. He knew all too well that his mother had been lonely
after his father’s death, although she never let it show, even to him.
John was still slightly astonished how an attachment between the two had possibly managed to grow
but, when he saw them together and watched how they looked at each other, he had no more
doubts about the depth of their mutual feeling. After all, Nicholas had become a capable and decent
man with a suitable salary to keep his wife in a station that was due to her.
So, he helped Margaret to make the necessary arrangements.
~~~~
There was a particularly tricky matter to settle, one that would require all of Margaret’s diplomatic
talents. Hannah and Nicholas needed a house to live in after their marriage.
Hannah did not really wanted to leave her present house but she realised all too well that she
couldn’t go on living there indefinitely, now that John and Margaret were to become parents. They
would need all the space they could get, as soon as the children were born. So, she agreed upon
inspecting Milton’s house market with Margaret and her two attendants, albeit reluctantly.
Nicholas, however, proved to be the hardest to convince.
He was used to and fond of his small house on Princess Street, where he lived since he married
Bessy’s and Mary’s mother. Apart from being rather dank and far too small, the dismal little house
had as good as no amenities whatsoever and could not possibly be thought suitable for a lady like
Hannah Thornton.
After a long time – and a good deal of convincing – it was Mary who brought her father to reason.
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
She stated very simply that she had too much to do at the Infirmary to have some time to spare for
looking after the Boucher children. After their parent’s death, two years before, Nicholas had taken
in the three boys, Thomas, Christopher and Harold and the three girls, Jemima, Louisa and Tabitha.
Tom was now almost nine and working with John at Marlborough Mills. His sister Jemima, eight,
who first worked as a ‘scavenger’, was now helping Mary at the Infirmary. The four younger siblings
still needed a lot of looking after and also, a lot of space. A bigger house, Mary said to her father, was
just a question of good common sense.
Thus, one beautiful day at the end of May, Hannah and Nicholas agreed on signing the contract of
sale on a house in the suburbs of Milton, with five bedrooms and a large garden. Margaret and John
were very pleased with the acquisition and promised to help with the move.
After that, there was only the ceremony to prepare and the date of the wedding to come.
~~~~
“It feels awkward,” John whispered one evening. They were in bed, exhausted from a very long and
tiring day.
“What, darling?”, Margaret asked.
“Mother leaving this house. I ... I had it built, especially for her, you know. It was my first big
expenditure after two years of substantial profit. I could scarcely afford it but I wanted mother and
Fanny out of the bleak, shabby rooms we occupied at the time. Mother knew we had not yet enough
money to spare on the mill’s expenses but she never said a word. She acknowledged my need to
honour her for her troubles and hard work.”
Margaret laughed softly.
“Mother always seems to know what you are thinking or feeling, sometimes even before you do
yourself.”
“Yes, that is so. As I do with her. I could never have succeeded without her, Margaret.”
“I know. John ...”
“Mmmm ...”
Her husband’s arms were around Margaret’s heavy body, cradling it soothingly in his warmth.
“John ... I once made a vow that ... that I would never come between you and Mother. I hope I
succeeded in that?”
“Oh, my darling Margaret, of course you did! Yet, should I ever be forced to choose between the two
of you, I would not know how to deal with it. That is why I love you so much, my sweetheart, you
have made it very easy for me by loving my mother as if she were you own. I will never have to make
this choice.”
Margaret nestled herself deeper in John’ arms. How good it felt to be held by him ...
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
“Sweetheart ...”, she breathed, her heart pinched all of a sudden.
“What is it, darling?”
“John, you must promise me this, please? If ... if I do not ... survive this ...”
“Margaret, no!”
“If I do not survive this, then you must not grieve me forever, John.”
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Fifteen – Most Cherished List Item: the Babies
“If I do not survive this, then you must not grieve me forever, John.”
John, on hearing those soft-spoken words, found himself prey to many different feelings, of which
rage was the most powerful.
“Margaret, no! I forbid you to speak like that!”
The cheer vibrant fury in John’s voice startled Margaret. Her eyes grew moist and she pressed his
hand strongly.
“John, John, forgive me, I did not mean ...”
But John turned her so that she now faced him.
“Margaret Hale Thornton, do not ever say such a thing again or I ... I ... oh, I do not know what I will
do but ... Lord, Margaret! We cannot even think of you not being here to raise our children together
with me!”
“John, I’m sorry. I ... I had a moment of weakness and it will never occur again, my darling. I am sure
that I can succeed in this with you by my side.”
“Exactly, you are not alone, my darling. I will be there every step of the way. Now, you must rest.
Come, let me help you to get comfortable.”
Long after her husband had fallen asleep, Margaret lay awake, staring at the silver rectangle of the
window. She was really afraid of the ordeal awaiting her. The pregnancy was beginning to wear her
down, more so than she would have liked and not only physically.
~~~~
“Margaret?”
John came bursting through the parlour door, a huge grin on his handsome face and blue eyes
shining with pleasure. Behind him, Margaret could see the figure of another man, a tradesman by the
look of it.
“Darling, this is Mr Topplewaite. He runs a furniture shop in one of Milton’s finest neighbourhoods. I
asked him to come and show you some of the drawings of the furniture he has in the shop. Nursery
furniture, that is!”
“Oh!”
Margaret’s face flushed with pleasure. She had been worrying about the nursery for some time now.
Hannah showed her the room when Margaret’s pregnancy was certain and the mother-to-be hadn’t
been happy with it. Situated on the top floor of the house, it was a gloomy, oppressive place and too
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far away from their own bedroom, to Margaret’s taste. Thus, she was relieved to see John take this
problem out of her hands.
“Now,” John said, “Crispin, Justin, take your places. Come, darling, fasten your seatbelt. Here, let me
help you.”
Margaret had to fight herself not to ruffle her husband’s black hair while he kneeled before her to
help with the belt. Dear, sweet John ...
C & J wheeled her chair, not toward the stairs, but to their bedroom door and then beyond, to the
room John occupied before their marriage.
“John, what is this? I don’t understand ...”
“This,” John said as he threw open the door, “is to be the nursery. Look what I have done with the
place.”
Margaret’s chair rolled into the room and she gasped with surprise.
The whole space had been cleared, the wallpaper had been stripped, the carpets removed, the
curtains unhooked. What had been John’s former bachelor room, upholstered with the appropriate
subdued browns and dark greens, was now a spacious, light and airy children’s room. The wall were a
soft sky blue, the ceiling pure white and the floor had been decked with new boards, painted in dove
grey and polished to a gleam. The windows were hung with dark blue velvet curtains from top to
bottom.
“Mr Topplewaite, do your magic, if you please? Margaret, you are to assist Mr Topplewaite and
choose the right furnishings. When you are ready, Mr Topplewaite, I would be obliged to you if you
would step into my office, later? Thank you.”
With that the Master left the room, still grinning with delight.
~~~~
Margaret spent the next two hours choosing two cots, two small wardrobes, a large chest-of-drawers
with a marble top, destined for the babies’ toilette, and a comfortable rocking chair. She picked out a
small bath tub and a few stuffed animals and toys. Also needed was a bed, wardrobe and dressing
table for the nursery maid – and, Good Lord, she had yet to find one!
This pleasant chore finished, the four of them were sipping at a much needed cup of tea, when
Hanna and Nicholas came in. They had been overseeing the work going on in their new house and
were glad to drink a cup too.
“What do you say, chaps?”, he grinned at the men present, “How about something a bit stronger to
accompany the tea? I myself could stomach a brandy!”
The other three eagerly nodded in agreement and Hanna pointed at the sherry bottle.
Margaret and Mr Topplewaite then began explaining what they had been up to and the newcomers
examined and approved of it all.
After tea, Mr Topplewaite and the two men excused themselves and Margaret told Hannah and
Nicholas about her wanting to find a nursemaid.
“You know, Margaret,” Nicholas said, “I might have just the lass for you.”
“Oh?”, Margaret asked, smiling at him.
“Yes, her name is Letty Monroe and she is Mary’s cousin. Her father is my late wife’s brother.
Letty is ... well, she had an accident when she was ten, lost a foot at Henderson’s mill. As a result, she
cannot work in a shed any more. When she has to stand on that leg, despite the wooden foot, she
tires easily. But, Margaret, she is a bright girl, taught herself to read and write and she is awfully good
at drawing. You should see her drawings.”
Margaret kept her face bland but she was having doubts about Letty Monroe. A poor girl from the
worker’s class was not what she had in mind as a nanny for her children. Yet, she agreed to receive
the girl the next day and talk to her.
~~~~
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
“So, you have found yourself a nanny, then?,” John asked, that night.
He had just helped his wife into bed and was now undressing himself.
“I don’t know, John, I have to see her first. I confess I am a bit apprehensive. She is an uneducated
girl, John, and she has a wooden foot, Nicholas said. She lost a foot in an accident at Henderson’s, as
a child.”
John retrieved his shirt and asked:
“When was this? I seem to recall something of the kind, five or six years ago.”
“I do not know. Nicholas is sending her here tomorrow.”
Hearing the sound of doubt in Margaret’s voice, her husband was surprised.
“Margaret, what is this? You seem ... somehow prejudiced against this girl! That is not like you!
Normally, you have no qualms about members of the working class.”
Margaret bowed her head in a sudden consternation.
“Oh, I’m sorry, John, it’s just that ...”
She looked up at him, tears in her beautiful eyes. Her voice was very small when she whispered:
“I’m so afraid, John, I’m terrified ...”
With a grunt of deep concern, John took his wife into his arms and hugged her.
“Margaret, my love, do not lose heart? I’ll move heaven and earth to help and protect you. I promise
you that everything will be alright. I will not leave your side, Margaret! You and I, we will bring this
baby business to a good end.”
But, Margaret was softly sobbing, her face hidden into his shoulder and, not for the first time, John
Thornton, strong man that he was, had dire forebodings about the weeks to come.
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Chapter Sixteen – I, Nicholas, Take Thee Hannah
The second day of the month of June in the year of Our Lord 1853, the bells of Milton Chapel were
peeling joyfully to announce the wedding of Mrs Hannah Thornton, mother of the Master of
Marlborough Mills, and Mr Nicholas Higgins, assistant manager of the factory.
The day was a bit overcast but that did not lessen the joyful mood as the bride was being led down
the aisle on the arm of her proud son, John Thornton of Marlborough Mills. At the altar stood
Nicholas Higgins, tall and broad in a suit of black superfine, a bright white fine linen shirt, dove grey
waistcoat and dazzling white cravat. His hands held a pair of white cotton gloves and a black top hat
and his honest face bore a wide, happy grin as he watched Hannah approach on John’s arm.
Hannah was magnificently decked out in a lavender dress of gleaming silk, whose sober, straight cut
accented the slimness of her tall, erect figure but softened the lines in her usually stern countenance.
Now, Hannah was smiling, blue eyes sparkling like diamonds. Her thick, black hair,with only the hint
of silver, was combed back loosily from her face to fall down in heavy waves on her back. Nicholas’s
heart skipped a beat as he noticed the loosened hair. It made her look like the young girl she must
have been when she married John’s father.
John solemnly lay his mother’s hand on Nicholas’s and retired at the side of his own wife.
Margaret smiled at him as he sat down beside her wheelchair and took her hand.
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Lucia Swiers – The Thorntons of Milton
Not yet a year ago, they had been bride and groom at this very church themselves. How well John
remembered his lovely Margaret in her cream coloured silk dress and lace vale, the very picture of
beauty and grace. Today she wore a loose gown of mint green silk, very light to the touch as to give
her as much comfort as possible with the heavy burden of her pregnancy to bear. John’s heart
lurched in fear as it had for so many days now, since he knew Margaret was carrying twins.
He pressed her fine boned hand and smiled at her, not showing what he was really feeling other than
his huge love for her.
Margaret watched the couple at the altar with quiet joy filling her heart.
Dear Nicholas and sweet Mother! How she wished them to gain a new happiness with each other!
They had been through such a difficult time, with Hannah being stalked and nearly killed. A shiver ran
through her as she remembered the deeds of their former maid, Jane.
Another memory returned suddenly and she had to swallow back tears. At this same time of year,
last June, her father had died. Margaret could still see the tall figure of Mr Bell, standing in the street
with her father’s suitcase in his hand, when he came to tell her of Mr Hale’s demise.
The sudden kick of one of her babies brought Margaret back from the sad past into the present.
She admonished herself sternly. It was no use reminiscing about past sorrow. She had things to do,
she must prepare herself for motherhood and stop being such a ninny! After all, she had the most
dedicated and loving man in the whole world at her side and the strong support of a woman whom
she considered a mother. Her own dear departed mother would never have given her strength at all,
weak and sickly as she had been. So she brought John’s hand to her lips and watched fondly as
Nicholas and Hannah spoke their wedding vows.
~~~~
After the ceremony, there was a reception at the Thornton house. The gathering was small. There
was the family, of course, and a few acquaintances, such as Dr Donaldson and Inspector Mason from
the Milton Police Force.
Margaret was watching the guests with a fond eye when her friend, Mary Higgins, came to sit on a
chair beside her own wheelchair.
“Dear Margaret, how are you feeling? This must be an exhausting day for you. Are you comfortable?
Can I get you something?”
Margaret took Mary’s hand and pressed it fondly.
“No, Mary, do not worry. I’m perfectly alright, though huge as a beached whale! How I am ever to
get my figure back after this, I do not know!”
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She winced as a kick from the babies made her stomach lurch with a burning gulf of bile. Mary laid
her hand on Margaret’s swollen stomach and smiled as she felt the strong kicking.
“They are very healthy in there, for sure! Two boys, I should say, and rugby players to boot!”
The two women burst into laughter at the thought and Margaret saw John’s head turn towards her
in surprise. She waved at him and he, reassured with her lightness of spirit, went on with his
conversation with Dr Donaldson.
“Mary, I have not yet have an opportunity to thank you for sending your cousin, Letty Monroe, to us.
She is very sweet and, although still very young, she impressed me with her quiet self-confidence.
She will make a good nanny, I’m sure.”
Mary was silent for a moment, then said in an earnest tone:
“Letty had an unusual childhood, Margaret, one that would have scarred a less stronger girl for life
but not her! She was but ten years old when she lost her left foot. A cart wheel broke down and the
wheel axe’s sharp edge severed it clean, so no chance of saving it. Many little girls would have lost
courage but not our Letty. She stepped into our house, one day, on her crutches and tackled Dad,
whom she knew to be a good carver of wood. ‘Uncle Nick,’ she said, ‘make me a wooden foot so that
I can walk without these stupid crutches.’ I tell you, Margaret, Father was all in doubt about it but he
did as Letty asked. After lots of failures, he finally managed to make a foot to match her leg stump
fairly good.”
Margaret listened in awe to all this.
“Did she manage to walk on the foot? I imagine it must have been difficult to keep her balance?”
“It was. She kept falling and she didn’t seem to be able to fasten the foot adequately enough on her
stump. But, finally, she succeeded. She and Father designed something quite new, a leather sock,
lined with cotton waste, to cover her stump, and then they used Arabic gum to make it stick on the
foot as an addition to the straps around her leg. It works. She’ll never be able to run, of course, but
she can walk alright.”
This girl, Margaret thought, deserved a chance.
~~~~
After the reception Nicholas Higgins took his bride to their new home, their carriage seen off by their
family and friends. Despite being as tall as he, Nicholas carried Hannah over the threshold and
straight up to their bedroom. The housekeeper and maids had the rare experience of hearing their
mistress giggle like a young girl.
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Chapter Seventeen – Torn Between Fear and Joy
Near the half of June 1853, Margaret found herself growing more and more restless every day.
She was now huge and experienced great discomfort from her pregnancy, although the babies
seemed healthy enough. They were very active, especially when she tried to rest or sleep. Even John
marvelled about the force of his unborn children when he laid his hand on Margaret’s stomach.
“My poor darling,” he said, one night when he helped Margaret to go to the bathroom for the fourth
time that night, “how I wish I could relieve your suffering! I cannot imagine how the weight of the
children must burden you.”
He plumped up her pillows and helped her back into bed.
“Now, how many weeks to go?”
Margaret gave a deep, heartfelt sigh.
“Theoretically three and a half weeks. But I fervently wish it to be less!”
“You know what the doctor said, darling. The longer you carry them, the stronger they will be.”
“Yes, you are right, John. It was very selfish of me to wish for the birth to begin.”
“Come, my love. Close your eyes and sleep now. You need to rest.”
Her head resting upon John’s breast, while lying on her side with one leg drawn up and the other
stretched out – a position she found very comfortable – Margaret soon found sleep.
John, on the other hand, worried, as usual. He watched Margaret grow more tired every day and of
lower spirits. Lord, but to have to carry two babies, large, heavy babies, for that matter, must be
torture for his fragile, slender wife.
~~~~
John Thornton had always been a fighter. Problems might arouse but they had to be dealt with. He
was going to make absolutely sure Margaret was being taken care of as completely as could be.
Therefore he wrote a letter to Dr Mortimer Chelmsford, obstetrician in London, and invited him to
come and live at the Thornton home so as to be ready at hand when Margaret would go into labour.
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Dr Chelmsford , who was a busy man with a blooming practice, promised to come to Milton during
the last week of June or, should labour start sooner, travel post haste to be with her. For now, he
sent his most skilled midwife to cover for him until he would arrive.
Mrs Eliza Goodyear arrived duly on the 20th of June from London.
She was a widow whose husband died of pneumonia ten years ago, leaving her without money. Dr
Chelmsford, who was looking for a housekeeper took her on and discovered very soon that Mrs
Goodyear was better suited to care for the sick than for sweeping and cooking. He provided her with
the money to take a proper training so that she could go and offer her services wherever they were
needed.
Margaret was immediately drawn to the lively and cheerful woman of thirty-five.
Eliza Goodyear had soon organized Margaret’s days into long periods of rest and short intervals of
sitting up on the parlour couch. C & J, Margaret’s faithful chair bearers were banned from the house,
at least as far the wheelchair was concerned. No more outings, Eliza said, no more tiring distractions.
That was a good thing for one night at the dinner table where she was taking her evening meal in the
company of John, Margaret suddenly felt a gnawing pain in her lower back. She gasped, startling
John into action.
“Darling, what is the matter? Are you unwell? Talk to me, Margaret, please?”
At that moment the pain was expanding, circling her waist like a belt and growing stronger by the
second. Margaret clasped John’s hand with closed eyes, unable to breathe.
“Dixon! Mrs Goodyear! Somebody, help!,” John bellowed in helpless rage.
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It was Dixon who was first on the spot but this was so clearly beyond her usual skills that John was
relieved when Eliza Goodyear entered the room. She took matters in hand with a comforting
confidence.
“Mr Thornton, sir, help her up. Come on, Mrs Thornton, we must get you to your bed.”
John, in his usual brisk manner, shoved her aside and scooped up his wife as if she weighed nothing.
Eliza Goodyear’s eyes widened in admiring surprise seeing how strong he was.
Between the two of them, they soon had Margaret in bed.
“Mrs Thornton, I want you to lie on your side in, as I told you, was the position of relax. Very well,
that is it. Now, breathe, exactly the way I taught you to, deep long intakes that go all the way down
to your stomach. Then, hold your breath for ten seconds and release it very slowly. Yes, that is good.”
She turned towards John.
“Mr Thornton, you must see that she does this every time the pain starts. It is her body preparing for
birth. The womb, which is in fact no more than a very strong muscle, is in great need of oxygen. That
is the reason for the elaborated breathing process. You, sir, must help her to breathe instead of
clamping up, like she did just now. Can I trust you with this? Can you do this?”
John shot the nurse a very grim but determined look.
“Of course I can! Do you think me a weakling?”
He turned to Margaret, kneeled by the bed and started working on her breathing along with her.
Eliza Goodyear smiled in satisfaction and left the room, feeling reassured about John Thornton’s utter
commitment and cooperation.
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Chapter Eighteen – The Curse of Eve
John Thornton had weathered many bad spells in his life. Some of them – like when Marlborough
Mills went bankrupt – could even be called horrible. On the whole his life had never been easy and
he was fairly sure he could bear far more than any other man. Yet, what he was forced to undergo in
the days that followed Margaret’s first pains of childbirth, nearly did him in.
How he ever survived those hellish days, he never knew.
~~~~
During that first night, Margaret felt only four painful spasms. Although she managed – with John’s
help – to breathe in the required way, her anxiety prevented her from sleeping between spells.
This was the time, her time. It was all or nothing. No matter what would happen in the next hours, or
days, she would be in the centre of it. She stood on the verge of fighting the most important battle of
her life and she was terrified!
~~~~
Margaret wasn’t really asleep, she was just dozing off into a state of numbness. John, perched on the
edge of a chair next to their bed, was watching her with growing anxiety. Lord! How long was this
going to take?
The night had drifted into dawn and Nurse Goodyear had just examined Margaret’s progress. The
cervix had barely dilated from the three inches it had the last time she checked. There was no
progress! Even though the contractions – John had to force himself to call them so – followed each
other a bit more frequently, the cervix did not open further.
Where was that damned fellow Chelmsford? Why wasn’t he here yet?
“John?”
He looked up to find his mother beside him. She blanched and he did not understand why but his
brain was too befuddled to make an effort.
“John, go and lie down. You cannot help her and she needs to regain her strength before the next
contraction starts. I will stay here, go!”
~~~~
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Margaret moaned as the pain rushed through her, fiercer now and much longer. She clasped the
hands that were holding her, tears running down her cheeks. Her body ached all over and rivers of
sweat trickled over her breasts and thighs.
“Margaret, breathe! Now, Margaret! Small puffs, quick and shallow, come on, do it, Margaret!”
When she opened her eyes to the forceful voice of Hannah, barking out the words, Margaret felt
immensely relieved to have her near.
“Oh, Mother! I am so glad you are here!”
Pain cut her off and she puffed, just like Hannah told her to. It helped ... a bit.
“Very good, Mrs Thornton!”
That was Eliza’s voice. Now Margaret was no longer so scared. She had two very competent women
to help her.
~~~~
Of course John could not sleep.
He was lying on the couch in the parlour, ears pricked to the sounds coming from the bedroom, heart
pounding with fear for what might be going on there. Suddenly he sat up and covered his face. It was
no use, he was eaten up by sheer fear! It gnawed at him like a wild animal. It tore him apart and
ripped the flesh from his very soul!
A cry from Margaret had him on his feet and into the bedroom.
His wife was half sitting, half lying against the stack of pillows in their bed. The covers were thrown
back, revealing her spread legs and raised knees. On both sides of her, his mother and the nurse
were supporting her through yet another attack of pain as she arched away from the mattress. Then
Nurse Goodyear took sight of him.
“Mr Thornton, will you please leave the room immediately? This is not your place!”
“Curse it! I will not go! I cannot leave her alone now! Tell me what to do, for God’s sake, woman!”
A deep voice from the doorway cut through his speech.
“You can climb into that bed behind her and support her with your body, mister! And for the rest,
you can just shut up or I will remove you from the room myself!”
Dr Mortimer Chelmsford had finally arrived.
~~~~
She was now one large mass of fierce, hot pain, eating at her, tearing her apart, killing her slowly but
unstoppably. She had lost all control. There was nothing she could do except to undergo it, to let it
engulf her and to try to survive. A lot of voices were humming around her but she could not make
out what they were saying any longer. However, there was one familiar voice that managed to
penetrate the haze of red hot pain. It came from somewhere behind her where a warm, hard
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presence was holding her, supporting her, carrying her through the fiery waves. She clung to that
voice with every fibre of her weakening body.
“Very good, my darling, my sweet, brave love, very good. Breathe, my love, breathe, in and out,
slowly, deeply, in and out. I am here, my darling, do not be afraid, I am here, with you.”
John! It was John! Oh, sweet Mother of God, thank you!
~~~~
Five people were stubbornly and tirelessly working together to help Margaret Hale Thornton giving
birth to her babies.
There was Dixon, sponging her sweat-streaked face. There was Hannah, offering her hand and arm so
that Margaret might cling to them when a contraction set in.
There was Eliza, watching the doctor’s every move and word, so that she might do what he asked for.
There was Mortimer Chelmsford at the foot of the bed, checking Margaret’s progress after each pain
wave and listening to her heartbeat and that of the babies.
Finally, there was her husband John, sitting behind his wife, legs spread to steady himself and hands
firmly on her lower back to give her his extra strength when the pain hit her. Indefatigably, he talked
to her, encouraging her with his steadying voice. As far as he was concerned, John was taking no risks
at all to let anything go wrong in this!
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Chapter Nineteen – The Agony of a Husband
On that long day in June 1853, Margaret and John Thornton were fighting side-by-side to bring the
birth of their twins to a good end. As time went on, John learned to recognize all the signs and
proceedings of a confinement.
He could feel the slightest change in Margaret’s body when a contraction was coming, a tiny rippling
of her back muscles under his hands. Then he would straighten his own back, harden his own
muscles and tighten his grip on her waist, as he sat behind her, legs spread with Margaret between
them. When it began, he would support her with all his might, to give her the extra strength needed
for the contraction to be as efficient as possible.
This process was going on for long, excruciating hours, so long that John had lost all notion of time.
He had seen dawn coming through the windows, where Dixon had forgotten to draw the curtains,
busy as she was with bustling from the room to the kitchen in a supply of fresh hot water, hot drinks
and food for everybody in attendance.
John could very well tell that Margaret was weakening rapidly now. He literally had to hold her
upright during her labour. Yet he never allowed himself to stop encouraging her, firing her up,
praising her efforts, telling her he loved her. Margaret’s tears of sheer exhaustion were falling upon
his hands and arms and tearing apart his very heart in the process.
Was not this the outcome of his love for her? Had he not been the sole villain in this, by impregnating
her? How cruel was this, when a man could enforce this kind of torture onto his wife, solely by loving
her? By God, he swore he would find a way to spare Margaret further agony in the future or to die
trying to!
~~~~
Margaret had not an ounce of strength left. She felt completely drained, body and mind. Only John’s
presence and strength kept her going. John ... she was utterly grateful for her husband’s strong body
behind her, his capable hands on her waist and his loving voice in her ear.
“Come on, my love. Hold on for just a little while. Doctor says it is not long now. Sweet darling, come
on, push, my love, push!”
“I ... I cannot ... I cannot go on, John, I ...”
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“Yes, you can! Together, we can, my love! Come on, together with me, now, Margaret!”
It was only John that kept her going, Margaret thought. As long as she heard his voice, she could
indeed go on! John, stay with me, John, please, help me!
The doctor’s voice came from somewhere far away.
“Dr Donaldson? Mrs Goodyear? Stand by, if you please ... here comes number one! Oh, what a
beauty!”
The haze of pain grew to an extremely high peak but, strangely, Margaret found she could endure it
somehow. Her body was still fighting, though she did not know how that was possible.
Someone was pressing onto her stomach but her eyes refused to open and see who it was.
“Oh ... oh, my God, Margaret! Sweet Jesus, Margaret ... oh, oh ...”
Was John crying? She could feel him sobbing but could not believe it. John, crying? Impossible!
“Come on, my brave, brave darling, push, PUSH!”
“There is the other one!”, Dr Chelmsford cried, “And what a healthy one it is! Dr Donaldson, take
him, please?”
Suddenly the level of pain dropped to almost nothing and Margaret was left shivering with
exhaustion and sudden cold.
“Nurse, give me an extra blanket! Here, Mr Thornton, wrap this around her, she is in shock!”
~~~~
John tenderly wrapped his wife into the blanket and climbed out of the bed, helped by the strong
hands of his mother. Hannah’s face was wet with tears but her eyes were shining.
“Oh, John! You have two sons! Two healthy sons, is it not, Dr Chelmsford?”
As his knees buckled under the sudden demand of being upright, John took a deep breath and tried
to collect his scattered wits.
“Is it true, doctor? Are the children healthy?”
It was Dr Donaldson’s voice that answered. At some point John had noticed that the faithful family
doctor had entered the room but he had been too busy with his wife to even greet him.
“Yes, Mr Thornton, I have examined the children and they are very well. Two strong boys they are, a
little small as was to be expected, but strong nevertheless. Would you like to see them?”
“In a while, Dr Donaldson, if you please. Dr Chelmsford, how is Margaret?”
The London obstetrician turned to him while he was working on Margaret.
“She is completely exhausted, Mr Thornton, and asleep. The after-birth bleeding does not seem too
extreme and I think we must leave her into the competent hands of Mrs Goodyear who will make her
as comfortable as possible. I would be obliged if you and Mrs Hannah would leave the room now, so
that we can do our jobs.”
“But ...but I want to see how Margaret is and ...”
At this point, Hannah took hold of her son’s arm and quietly but firmly led him out of the room.
Once outside, John’s knees did really buckle and he would have crashed onto the floor but for the
strong, steadying hands of Nicholas Higgins.
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Chapter Twenty – The Miracle of Life
Around the clock of noon on June 19th 1853, Mrs Eliza Goodyear, nurse and midwife, came into the
parlour of the Thornton house, carrying two small bundles, one in each arm. Beaming with pride, she
placed them on the lap of John Thornton with a smile.
“Here you are, Mr Thornton! Meet your twin sons! They are a fine example of strong, healthy English
babies and you can be proud of your good wife for delivering them in so fine a condition.”
“Margaret! Oh, my God, how is she?”
“As well as can be expected, do not worry. She is sleeping and Dr Chelmsford will soon be here to tell
you all about her. For now, look at your babies!”
John’s large hands were trembling when he held his newborn sons. They were so small yet so
perfect!
His thumb touched one of the tiny hands and instantly the delicate fingers curled around his with a
surprising strength.
“Ouch! But you are quite the muscle man, aren’t you, son,” he whispered, grinning at Nicholas and
Hannah, who stood smiling at him, his mother all misty-eyed.
“Oh, you don’t know half of it!”, Mrs Goodyear assured him, “Wait until they open their mouths!”
As if waiting for a sign, both babies began crying their hearts out, the level of noise deafening and
very, very shrill!
“Good God!”, John exclaimed, “Is this how it is going to be from now on? May God have mercy on
us!”
Hannah now laughed through her tears of joy and reached out for one of the babies. John stood and
laid one howling child in Hannah’s arms and the other in the arms of a startled Nicholas.
“Oh, yes, Higgins! I am not going to do this on my own! You are to help me, Granddad! And you too,
Granny!,” he joked with an impish smile curling his mouth.
After that, he escaped from the parlour and went to find Margaret in their bedroom. Dr Chelmsford
was just checking her pulse and put a finger to his lips when John entered. ‘Five minutes’ he
gestured, stood and left.
The sight of his beloved wife resting peacefully brought a lump into John’s throat. He seated himself
next to the bed and carefully took her porcelain little hand in his. With anxious eyes roaming over
her, he took it all in, her lovely dark brown hair neatly brushed from her still pale face, delicate and
precious in its sleep-relaxed state, her breast moving under the intake of breath, the slight curve of
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her stomach under the covers where their children had been. He couldn’t keep himself from
caressing the alabaster cheeks and the curve of the cherry mouth.
Margaret opened her eyes, saw him and smiled.
“John ...”
“How are you, my heart? Do you know how much I love you? You have done so marvellously, my
love! You have given me two strong, handsome sons for whom we yet have to find a name. I was
hoping you would have some suggestions?”
Margaret smiled again, so sweetly that John’s heart turned into water.
“I know you have already picked one name, John. Charles Richard, after both of our fathers. I do
agree with that but what about the other one?”
John chuckled and squeezed her hand.
“There is no way to keep anything from you, is it not? You are right. Charles Richard Thornton is a
good name but which one of them is going to have it?”
“The firstborn, of course! He has a small birthmark on his chest, in the shape of a weaving reel.”
“Really? I never saw that! Remarkable! So our little future weaver is named Charles. Now the other
one, any suggestions?”
“Yes ... I would like to call him Nicholas Alexander. And ... I would like to have Nicholas as his
godfather and Dr Donaldson for Charles, if that is alright with you, John?”
John stroked his wife’s face and whispered:
“You have been thinking this over very thoroughly, haven’t you, my love? Alright, I agree but what
about godmothers?”
“Mother for Charles and Mary for Nicholas. It is really very simple, if you put your mind to it.”
John grinned mischievously, kissed Margaret on the mouth and stood.
“Well, I will leave you to rest, darling, and go and inform the godparents-to-be of their future duties. I
am looking forward to that in rapt anticipation! Just think of all the money they will have to spend on
sugared almonds and silver spoons!”
Margaret burst out into genuinely merry laughter which caused her husband to bend over her and
take her into his arms.
“Margaret, you are my heart and soul and I love you more than life itself. Thank you for our boys and
thank you for loving me. Life is going to be just marvellous!”
The End
57