“It would be the answer to all our problems, Charles,” I said.  “Phoebe expects to have two live children and wants them. We would prefer not to have a child just yet.  I could still see my baby when I came to visit Phoebe, but I know that she would have a good upbringing, and would save us the scandal.”

“But she is our baby,” said Charles. “She was made from the love of you and me, and I don’t think I could watch someone else claiming her as their own.”

“Can you watch as people cross the street to avoid speaking to me, Charles?  Can you watch while all your fancy friends suddenly don’t want to know you anymore? Do you think the Mayor of Worcester and the Rector and the Baptist Minister will be inviting us to any more parties or allowing their wives to call on us?  This is a solution to our problems and no one will be hurt. Phoebe will have her two live children – which she is prepared for and has help to raise.  Her dead child will be buried quietly by us. Many women have miscarriages and the products are disposed of, not even buried properly. No one would expect a proper funeral.  Some have suspected that I was increasing, so to find out that I had miscarried at three and a half months would not shock or upset anyone.  It would take me awhile to recover from this, but that would be expected anyway.  Please do this for me Charles.”

“I wonder if the midwife was negligent and is worried about being blamed over the death of the other baby,” he speculated. “I am not sure I trust that she would continue with our lie if she were put to the test.” But we only had a few minutes to think about it and in the end I convinced him.

The babies were exchanged, and our pretend daughter was covered with a blanket to indicate that she was dead.  Little Mary, although that would not be her name now, was moved from her lowly dresser drawer to the silk and lace draped bassinet next door.  I sobbed but it was as much from fatigue and relief as from giving up my daughter.  Charles said he would arrange for the baby to be quietly buried at St Martin’s Church.

I am having my ten days of “lying in” here at Phoebe’s house. I spend some time passing notes to her, and occasionally visiting with her next door; talking with her about our experiences. She was very sorry to hear that our baby had died and was amazed that I was not more upset about it.  I told her that I wasn’t   ready to be a parent, so that it was for the best.

Phoebe’s twins (as I had to think of them) did well. I could tell which was mine, because she was slightly larger than the other baby.  James came home the next day and he was very pleased to see the two healthy babies and Phoebe who was nearly recovered from her ordeal. They decided to name them Frances and Sarah, for their two grandmothers. They were put in the nursery with the wet nurse and their hired nursery nurse. Phoebe and James only saw them for half an hour in the evening, when the nurses brought them in, and Phoebe felt it was better for me not to see their happiness, so I usually don’t get a chance to get a glimpse of my daughter.  I must admit to the odd twinge of regret. But even so I firmly believed that we had made the best decision under the circumstances.

I have rewritten my last wedding poem, which I will put down here. I’m not sure which is the better effort.

The Bride's Farewell

We are home now, and life is almost back to normal, but Charles is not himself. He says he feels the lack of our child most sorely.  He feels we have been guilty of a great sin – not only putting our daughter into another’s bed – like a cuckoo, but setting up a web of lies that will surround us for the rest of our lives.   He says we must go to Phoebe and her husband James and tell them the truth and bring our daughter home.  Part of me can see his point of view, but another part of me thinks that having found the solution to our problem, to unravel it now would not help anyone and would make us more enemies than friends. I don’t feel like I can pray to God for help in this matter, because, like Charles, I feel that we have done a sinful thing. 

We went for a walk in the Malvern Hills this morning. I have fully recovered physically from my confinement and enjoyed the exercise.  It was nice to be amongst such pleasant scenery on a warm autumn day; Sweet September, very mild, very still.

Then in the afternoon, because I have been so full of tears and unhappiness lately, Charles said we must do something to make me smile again. We went on the long promised visit to Chamberlain’s China Factory. It was a wonderful place and the choice was enormous,  but in the end we bought an Armorial Plate. It is 16 inches by 14 inches and in the centre there is a red hand painted figure of a lion encircled with a belt with the motto Vincet Veritas which I think means Truth Conquers Everything. (What a motto for us to have in our house of lies.) The rim is decorated with maroon and cream coloured reserve decorated with floral designs. It will take place of honour on our sideboard, and goes so well with our new burgundy coloured velvet curtains.

We now have baby Mary here with us in Rainbow Cottage.  Charles could stand it no longer, and against my wishes went to Phoebe and James yesterday and told them the truth. They wouldn’t   believe it at first, but Charles told them that the midwife knew the plan, and had in fact suggested it. He didn’t put the blame on the midwife, but felt that the true situation should be known.  They had the midwife in and when confronted by Charles as well, she admitted it, but said that it was only her suggestion – it was our decision; and that is true. James is very angry. He is talking about legal action over the situation. We didn’t steal their dead baby, but only pretended it was ours and buried it. I hope he will reconsider.

They had no choice but to allow Charles to bring our baby home, now over three weeks old.  Charles found out the name of a wet nurse who can come to help us from the midwife.  This young woman, whose name is Ella, lost her own baby. She will come in to feed Mary every four hours, between 6 a.m. and 10 p.m. My milk dried up shortly after the birth so I would not be able to feed her, even if I had wanted to, but the idea revolts me. Why am I such an unnatural mother? Before she was born I had quite fond feelings for her but now I don’t feel like she is anything to do with me at all. I can barely look at her.

Charles went to see his cousin Harry, who has a two year old daughter called Eliza, and has his Aunt Phoebe staying with them as well. Of course he had to tell them that our baby was born early and that we hadn’t expected it so were not prepared. He borrowed the necessary clothes and equipment that they still had. What was not available, he bought. Charles did all the things that mothers normally due before their babies are born.

I can’t feel anything for Mary.  I hold her and try to love her, but all I feel is annoyance that things couldn’t have worked out better for us.  Charles loves her and makes up for my lack of attention.

I have been reading all the books I can find on childcare, as I have never any to do before.  I have summarised what I think are the main points for new babies.

Our routine has certainly changed with the advent of Mary into our family. Ella comes promptly at 6 a.m. We are usually awake by that time anyway, so that is no problem. She feeds Mary, changes her and puts her back down to sleep. It seems no time at all when it is 10 a.m. and she is knocking on the door once more.  Ella is a sweet girl, but not very bright; not that that interferes with her doing what she is paid to do. Charles gives her three pence per day, which is more than she could earn at a normal job, but her life is very disrupted by the trips to our house.  She seems thrilled with having contact with our Mary, and displays all the true maternal feelings that I lack. I envy her, but that doesn’t make maternal feelings appear.

She comes again at 2 p.m. and 6 p.m. and then at 10 p.m. which I must admit is later than we normally go to bed. Charles walks her home after the last feed, as we would feel unhappy at her walking alone in the dark.  She lives about 5 minutes walk away.

Because Mary needs attention other than at feeding times, and I find that I do not have the expected feelings for the baby that mothers are supposed to have, we must hire a nurse to care for her or she will be very deprived. Charles has agreed that we can afford it.  Charles has just managed to get hold of a new book called Household Management, Part 1, and in it, Mrs. Beaton says that people who are in our income range should be able to afford a serving girl, which she says we should pay between £5 and 10 for a nursery maid per annum, and/or a kitchen maid who should have from £8 – 12. The amounts she stipulated includes that the employer should also make an allowance of tea, sugar and beer.

I enjoyed reading her book, although I don’t feel much like a manager of my own household. I copied out one of the first paragraphs.

Charles has now hired a servant, who will live in and have the care of Mary for most of the time. I am so relieved that I don’t need to give her constant care. I am much happier doing the housekeeping things. There is so much to do at this time with preserving the fruits and vegetables from the garden. Perhaps I will stop crying so much now.

I must take up the challenge of Mrs. Beaton and become a good housekeeper, and organise my daughter’s life by giving rules to our new child nurse.  I have copied down the important rules, so that I will have them to hand when I next interview her.

We have yet to find out the reaction of our friends and neighbours to the unexpected birth of our child.  I so much miss Phoebe but I doubt if she will ever speak to me again.

I enjoy the company of our new servant Sarah Hallory who is 17 and from Virgin Tavern Road. She was recommended by Charles’ Aunt Walker, who often stays with her son Harry to help take care of her grandchild, Eliza,  now that her mother has died.   Sarah is short and plump and very chatty with tangled golden curls that make me quite envious. We have made a little bedroom for her in what was a storage space off the baby’s bedroom. It is small, but at home she shared with four others, so she is pleased to have a room of her own, however tiny. We moved the tiny cot with the straw mattress into it and there is just room for a chair as well.

I have said she should have 2 uniforms in grey with 4 white aprons, and I will sew them for her if she wishes. I enjoy sewing and it will give me something to keep my mind occupied. 

Sarah seems delighted to have little Mary in her charge. She said, “I  will give Mary her first and last feeds each day from a feeding bottle, and that will make it easier for Ella and save you and your husband from staying awake longer than you wish to at night.” 

Before she leaves at 6 p.m. Ella expresses some milk into a cup, which Sarah then puts in the feeding bottle. It seems to work well so far.  When Mary cries in the early morning, Sarah gives her warmed sugar water.  We thought it best if Ella comes earlier now for the first feed, so she is coming at 8 a.m. and then at 1 p.m. and the final feed from her is at 6 p.m. If Mary fusses between times, Sarah can always give her more sugar water. But Mary is a remarkably un-fussy baby. 

We have given Sarah Saturday afternoon as her half day off. She was very pleased with that, as she is courting and will be able to see more of her sweetheart.  She will get one full day off each month, the 3rd Sunday of the month, so that means that she will have been here almost a month before her full day off.  I am pleased that Charles agreed to this arrangement, which I made with the plan in mind of him doing much of the care for Mary when Sarah is not here. I   have no interest in caring for her, and realise what an unnatural mother that makes me. Such a weight has been lifted from me, but still I sit and weep for seemingly hours at a time.

Between us Sarah and I  have made a list of which tasks will fall to her and which I will do. She will be a combined nurse/maid and it is important that she is clear what is her responsibility.

1. She will change, feed and generally care for the baby. As the baby gets older, this will entail taking her in the perambulator for a walk each day.
2. She will keep the nursery, her room, and our room tidy, which will include making up fires, making beds, emptying chamber pots,  daily dusting, and weekly cleaning of carpets and windows.
3. She will be responsible for washing Mary’s clothes and her own apart from the bedding, which I will include with my washing on Mondays.
4. In her free time when Mary is sleeping, she can make spills and cut and lace papers for the water closet. 
5. She will deal with the mending of Mary’s and her own clothes as needed.

 I  see Mary and oversee her care – but I let Sarah deal with dressing her and changing and such like. I have not yet ventured out without Charles since her birth and I am loathe to do so.  I don’t know how I would handle the scorn of the neighbours who I thought were my friends, and so I don’t want to put it to the test.    If Charles gets home from work early, he always takes Mary on his lap and cuddles and plays with her for half an hour or so while I am getting our food on the table. So often lately, however, he has been coming home quite late due to pressure at work, or so he says.