A Child's Story from The Victorian Era of 19th Century

A Child's Story from The Victorian Era of 19th Century

Emily Bardin

I am writing this note out of desperation for help from God. This note will be put in a bottle and sailed into the River Thames. I am a girl named Emily Bardin. I have a brother named James Bardin. He is 12. I just turned 8 last week. My birthday this time was not a truly lavish one, but my mother managed to make me a garland of flowers she stole from the landlord's garden. She could not sleep the whole night because she heard of the news that a lady named Ann Stacey was sentenced to imprisonment and labor for stealing a coat. The garland was so beautiful that I prayed to God it never wilted. Just like my other prayers that go unanswered this was neglected too, and the garland is now iconic trash of brown crushable emotions. My father has been taken to a place called The Fleet Prison. It's been three years we have not seen him. Mother occasionally goes to visit him, but when she returns she behaves strangely with me and my bother.

My Living Conditions

We live in London, but my mother wants to move. The living condition here is terrible, and I wish I could live in a cleaner house with more rooms and a water supply. She never says where but she wants to leave the place. We live in a small house with one room. We have a tin bath. There is a courtyard just behind the wall of our bedroom and I have often seen insects crawling into my bed at night from there. The place is used for dumping waste every day. The stinking smell is also unbearable at times, but my mother smells so good that when she hugs me and James we forget everything. At night, a night - man is supposed to clean the courtyard, but I wonder why he never visits regularly. My mother keeps the house tidy, but James loves making things dirty. He never seems to keep his clothes clean too. He has the advantage of owning four pairs of pants and three shirts, but I only have two dresses. I wish I could wear clothes like James, but mother never lets me. She says women should portray an unflawed image of modesty because the Queen does and wants so.

My Educational Level and Occupation

I work at a clergyman's home since the past two years, and his wife is kind enough to teach me to read and write. She has a daughter of my age who has her own room to sleep and her own books to read. I often wonder what it was to be like her but then my mother tells me we will have better days when my father comes back after paying the debt. I never attended school but James, attended a class of children taught by a volunteer ...