{NOVEL PREVIOUSLY NAMED: "PALE EYES"}
𑁍Julius Cadwell is a pauper from an impoverished village, Porlock of Somerset in England. Julius journeys to Wellington to work as a footman for the Duke of Wellington, Somerset.
♕︎Reuben Griffith is the only s...
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❝Venus and Love, her son, to speak plainly❞
•Marianne Moore
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Poverty is one of the world's greatest pandemic...
Porlock, Somersetꨄ︎ England, Spring of 1842.
Today had been a hard day's work with very little to show forth.
Mr Edward was overwhelmed with mixed emotions. Firstly disappointed in the chicken-change he had managed to make for the day since harvest had been so woeful that he thought it would only be fair if a famine was officially declared. Prices of food kept rapidly rising, the economy doing the antithesis, making the lives of the lower class that much more excruciating.
A great opportunity had finally made its way into Edward's life, but it meant his oldest son he loved dearly would have to leave.
Mr Cadwell walked into his heavily aged two-bedroom house, which was passed down three generations before him.
To make some earnings, he had rented out the upstairs bedroom to a single mother named Katherine, and her toddler.
Mr Cadwell, his wife, his son Julius and his ten years old son Arthur, all slept together in the bedroom downstairs. However, both families shared everything else in the house, it wasn't like there was a lot to be shared.
The Cadwell family were proper poor, but in this village that was mostly normal. Most people lived in broken-down houses which only had one or two rooms. At night time, families would crowd into these rooms, with several in each room and some even laying on rags in front of the fireplace.
Most houses had no running water or toilets. Each house would share an outside water pump, and use public toilets. Poorer families, if they owned a tin bath at all, would put it in front of their kitchen range. The whole family would wash one after the other and likely not empty the bath until everyone had finished.
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Edward Cadwell hung his tattered coat unto the coat rack he had carved up himself; the few benefits that came with being a humble carpenter.
“My darling, how was your day?” Fanny, Edward's wife asked upon seeing her husband. She stood beside their creaking table, where she was dashing out porridge for their son, Arthur.
“I am afraid nothing is changing,” Edward sighed solemnly.
“You mustn't worry immensely, truly. At least it is better than yesterday,” she smiled down at the two loaves of bread he held.
