The Case of Benjamin Twirl(Alex Wood) (Based on a true event which happened in London in the mid-eighteenth century.)


On a glorious morning in May in 1774 Emily Carter climbed the steps and entered the grand hallway of the Foundling Hospital, London, her emotions swaying like an unstable boat between joy and faith and doubt and fear. Waiting there in the silence of the plain vast hall, she closed her eyes and slipped back in her memory to the events that had brought her to this most feared place and to her long journey back.

Seven years ago, on 11th February 1767, she had stood on the opposite side of the street on a cold and dismal February morning, looking with terror at the steps which led to this place. She remembered sheltering the little bundle cradled in her arms from the icy wind and the feeling of numbness in her feet as she stood barefoot on the icy pavement. Never had she felt such loneliness as she did that day, facing the daunting and most painful of decisions that life was insisting and forcing her to take. Bill, her husband of three years, had died a month before after a short but painful illness. There was no family left that she could turn to and she had to accept that there was nothing left now and no possible way of caring for the most precious gift in the world, her little baby Charlie.

She shivered and shielded the sleeping baby with her shawl. The snow was beginning to fall and suddenly the streets grew much quieter. She realised that something was telling her ‘this is it. Do what you have to do!’ She bowed her head and made her way across the street and up the steps. Inside the grand hallway thirty or so women were waiting silently, each clasping a baby swathed in a sheet, a shawl or in some cases rags. Emily had heard that the hospital couldn’t cope with the number of babies being brought there and so they were limiting the number they would take in to just twenty per month. In order to make it fair the hospital had devised a system whereby mothers would have to draw lots in the form of black and white balls from a bag. If you had a white ball, your baby would be admitted, but a black one meant you would be turned away; a further agony which Emily prayed above all would not befall her.

She felt her whole body trembling as she wrestled with the enormity of what she was about to do. A woman who appeared to be standing on guard by the door ordered her sternly to wait her turn. There were only six hard wooden chairs but the mothers were reluctant to stake a claim against their sisters in distress. Then after a while, one of the other mothers who had been observing Emily, beckoned to her to sit on one of the empty seats and then sat down beside her.

“It’s all right dear” she said comfortingly “your little one will be taken care of in here. They’re all going to be all right,” she continued as if she was almost reassuring herself.

A woman appeared through high double doors carrying a grey cloth bag and approached Emily and the woman next to her, whilst inviting two others to join. Emily’s heart was racing with fear. This was decision time. Each woman put their hand into the bag and withdrew a ball. The first two withdrew balls that were white and there were only two balls now left in the bag, one of which would be black. The third woman put in her hand and drew out a ball and it was black. She cried out piteously and had to be helped away. For a moment Emily wondered if she should give up her place to that poor woman, but for Charlie’s sake there could be no turning back and she returned to her seat to wait in silence.

“Next!” prompted the voice of the unsmiling woman behind the simple wooden desk. Her expression openly confessed to all who stood before her that she had seen these situations so many times before and that her soul was compassion dry.

She took a piece of paper and without looking up she demanded “Name?”
“Emily Carter,” replied Emily softly and nervously.
“Is that your name or the name of the child?” demanded the woman.
“My name,” confirmed Emily.
“I don’t need your name,” admonished the woman “just the child’s”.
“It’s Charlie,” Emily whispered, looking down at his sleeping cherubic face and lightly stroking his cheek.
“Age?”
“Six weeks. He was born on New Year day.”

The woman writing down the details didn’t comment. “I need to see the child,” said the woman and Emily lowered Charlie towards her. She loosened the sheet and saw a little mole on his neck and Emily watched as she wrote, ‘clean, small mole on left side of neck.’

“Do you have something to leave with the child?” enquired the woman in a tired matter-of-fact tone.

Emily had heard how mothers would leave little tokens, no matter how humble; a lock of hair, a little ribbon, or a piece of cloth. This would help with identification if the mothers ever wanted to reclaim their babies, which few did. Emily handed the woman a small piece of cloth and watched as she pinned it to the paper.

At that point the woman behind the desk rang a bell. She still didn’t look at Emily. Emily didn’t exist. She was just another hopeless case, begging for help. A tall, thin woman appeared wearing a drab grey gown and she raised her hands upwards as if to take Charlie and there was an awkward moment when Emily had laid Charlie in the other woman’s arms, but couldn’t let go of him. There were invisible ties that wouldn’t let her be separated. He was part of her flesh and her heart; the thing she wanted most in the world and that she was being denied. But then sense overcame emotion. This was for Charlie and she released her grip, perhaps forever. And then Charlie was gone!

Looking back, Emily couldn’t remember anything about leaving there. Life had stopped. But at some point she had turned into a side street and when she was out of sight she had sat down on a step in a doorway and sobbed uncontrollably.

Then she remembered that she had suddenly felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. It was the woman who had offered her a seat and tried to give her words of comfort.
“Try not to upset yourself dear,” she said. “It’s my second time there and at least they stand a chance.” Then she enquired “where do you live?”
“Just a mile from here,” replied Emily wearily.
“Come on. I’ll come with you. My name’s Amy. We’ve got to keep going you know.”

<<<>>>

Emily didn’t eat or drink for three days. On the third day Amy came to visit her.
“Come on my little dove,” she said. “How long will your landlord let you stay in this place?”
“Until Friday” said Emily forlornly, accepting a drink of water from Amy.
“Well,” responded Amy decisively, “I’ve been thinking about how to help you. My sister has got me work up at the big house as a servant and they need another maid. I told her about you. You’d get lodgings there, not grand, but it’s a place to live. Do want me to try and help you get in there?”
“Oh, Amy,” said Emily. “Yes please! I won’t be able to thank you enough if you can get me some work like that. Maybe one day I could even get my Charlie back.”
Amy looked away doubtfully and then added brightly. “Come on. You have to eat something to be strong.”

Amy was as good as her word and Emily was given a job as a maid. She was given the last room at the end of the corridor at the very top of the house, freezing in winter and like an oven in the summer but, ‘No matter’ thought Emily, ‘all of this is for Charlie and one day I’m going back for him.’ She sometimes woke in the middle of the night and lay there for hours thinking about him, wondering if he really was all right in their care, wondering if he was still alive. She had heard things about the Foundling Hospital since that fateful day. People said that although Thomas Coram, the man who started it, must have been a very kind man and that he did his best for the babies, in reality only half of them survived. If Charlie did get sick how would she know? It wasn’t a real hospital after all. It was just a charity to try and solve the problem of all those poor sweet abandoned babies.

People said that Thomas Coram had been so moved by the sight of them left to die in the streets of London that he had resolved to give mothers who were driven to despair, through mostly poverty or social exclusion, a place where their babies could be taken into care. Babies had to be less than two months of age and once they had been taken in, they were sent to wet nurses in the country until they were about five, then given a basic education until the age of about ten and then they were sent into service or served apprenticeships. Whatever happened, Emily knew that she had to take Charlie away before then!

As the months and years went by, every hour of every day she imagined the changes in Charlie. Would he be talking and walking; what would he look like? On the rare occasions that she was free to leave the house, she watched other people’s children, trying to match them with Charlie’s age wondering what it would be like to have him close to her every day, walking alongside her, sharing his childish excitement and discoveries with her.

One day all the servants were eating together. The footman started talking about his new little nephew. At first Emily could cope with the conversation but emotions were being stirred inside her. When he started describing his nephew’s little bright blue eyes and the way he made people laugh, it struck a chord in Emily and she had to leave the table and gasp the cold fresh air of the late autumn evening clasping her hands tightly against her chest, as if in prayer, fighting the unbearable pain of separation. She looked up at the new moon and trembling uncontrollably she wished with all her heart for Charlie.

Back in the room, the footman William took Amy on one side to ask what had upset Emily and Amy explained the story to him. William listened intently. He liked Emily. He saw how hard she worked and how she kept herself to herself. He felt huge compassion for what she must have been through over the four years. He wished he could help in some way.

At the beginning of May, all the servants were given the afternoon off to go to the fair. Emily didn’t want to go but Amy and William persuaded her that she needed some sunshine. As the afternoon wore on, at some point Amy slipped away, leaving Emily and William together and as if the heavens had suddenly sprinkled magic stardust, Emily and William felt greatly attracted to each other. For Emily, it was William’s kindness, his soft way of speaking; his genuine ability to listen. For William it was Emily’s strength of character; her loving nature and her honesty. From that day he did his best, without intruding on her feelings, to let her know that he would always be there for her and a year later on one beautiful summers evening, he asked Emily to marry him. Emily remembered that moment so clearly; looking up at him and not being able to speak.
“Is your silence because the answer is no?” he had enquired softly.
“No” Emily had replied falteringly “it is not. It’s just that with all my heart and soul I couldn’t allow myself happiness without my Charlie. I hope you understand?”
William had drawn her to him and said. “You shall have Charlie back. I couldn’t want anything more than that in the world for you.”

“You see,” he said, “the other day I was called to his lordship’s study because he asked if I would be prepared to take the position of butler when George retires. I, of course, told the master that I would be most honoured to do so and then, Emily, if you will forgive me for being so bold, I informed his lordship of my wish to ask you for your hand in marriage. His lordship said that should your answer be ‘yes’ he would give his full and unreserved agreement and blessing and that we could together, with Charlie, occupy one of the tenant cottages. So, Miss Emily Carter, I ask you again if you will do me the greatest of honours and be my wife?”

Emily remembered hugging and hugging him and William spinning her around in the joy of the moment and she could feel now the way her cheeks had burned with embarrassment when the housekeeper arrived unexpectedly on the scene.

<<<>>>

Yes, seven long years in the wilderness to come full circle. William was waiting for her somewhere outside in the glorious May sunshine. Emily had worried that she might keep him waiting for a long time but he didn’t seem to mind. Her happiness was his happiness.

Back in the present, Emily watched the woman behind the desk. It wasn’t the same one but she had the same demeanour. At some point she stopped what she was writing, looked up at Emily and rang the hand bell on her desk. Emily approached and said she would like to have her child back. The woman looked at her in complete shock.
“You want him back?!” she repeated.
“Yes, please,” said Emily breathlessly.
“And what is his name?”
“It’s Charlie,” said Emily feeling an unaccustomed sensation of pride.
“And what was the date that you brought him here”
“11th February 1767,” confirmed Emily.

With obvious dissatisfaction at having to get up, the woman raised herself from her chair and disappeared through the high wooden doors. A long time later she came back with a bundle of papers.
“I am unable to find a Charlie” explained the woman, with obvious frustration. The only child admitted to this hospital at that time, with that birth date, is a Benjamin Twirl.”
“Benjamin,” exclaimed Emily. “But he’s Charlie!”
“Not necessarily,” explained the woman. “All the children are given different names when they arrive here. “Do you have some other means of identifying him?”
The familiar tremble returned to Emily’s hands as she fumbled in her purse. “Of course they had Charlie,” she was screaming inside! Finally she found the precious scrap of cloth that matched the piece she had left with Charlie that day and placed it on the desk.
“Ah,” said the woman, "yes, we have a match" and she set down on the desk the paper for Benjamin Twirl. The piece of material that Emily had left that day was pinned to the corner of the paper. The fabric was grey and on it was the shape of half a heart, where the fabric had been cut in two. The other half of the heart was on the fabric that Emily held in her trembling hand.

“Seven long years,” Emily thought to herself as she looked down on the two pieces of fabric laying side by side. And so it was that the heart was whole again!

....

[This is based on true fact. Of the 16,282 babies brought to the Foundling Hospital between 1741 and 1760, only 152 were reclaimed.]

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