River Dark - Book 2 Ironbridge Gorge Series

By Carole Anne Carr

Joshua's one chance of finding work at the stables comes to a horrible end when the head groom at the hall accuses him of causing the riding accident to Sir Edmund Atterley. Unable to prove his innocence, Joshua runs away and searches for the one person who might be able to save him from prison, his best friend Sam, first mate on the Severn trow, the Emily Grey. Accompanied by Matt the stable lad, a servant girl Daisy, a small boy he thinks is a ghost, and a runaway dog called Rags, Joshua must make a decision that will change his life forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carole Anne Carr
• Release date: Feb 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201173548

Book preview

Historical Note

River Dark describes the lives of children who lived and worked in England in the late 18th century. The story is set in and around the Ironbridge Gorge, Shropshire, at the beginning of the industrial revolution. Blists Hill was then a remote mining community, and the nearby village of Coalport was acquiring commercial importance after the building of the Preens Eddy Bridge. Although the characters and events are imaginary, I have tried to reflect the working conditions, and the lives of families living in the Gorge, at a time of rapid industrial growth.

The Ironbridge Gorge Books

With classes of children from a primary school in Shropshire, I frequently visited Blists Hill Victorian Town, one of a series of living museums in the Ironbridge Gorge. Despite frequent rain and sometimes snow on their clipboards, and having to take shelter in the Toll House, they always remained cheerful, and their work was a delight. Years later, those visits became the books Candle Dark and River Dark. The trow The Spry (named the Emily Grey in the stories) can be seen at the Victorian Town in the Ironbridge Gorge, Shropshire, a World Heritage site.

Contents

1. A Terrible Enemy 

2. Matt            

3. Mum is very Brave       

4. Fairground Entertainers              

5. An Easy Mistake                       

6. A Ghostly Meeting                   

7. Daisy            

8. Better than Nothing              

9. Michaelmas Fair            

10. A Riot at Bridgnorth Market                 

11. The Farmers’ Market         

12. In the Magistrate’s Court             

13. A Fight for the Emily Grey

14. The Gang Master               

15. On the Inclined Plane               

16. A Fearful Meeting                

17. In Madeley Woods                 

18. A Dreadful Discovery                 

19. I Must Decide                

1. A Terrible Enemy

If I’d known they would hunt me down like a criminal I would have run away from Atterley Hall when I heard that horrible screaming, but it was the first day of my new life and I wasn’t giving up now.

As the autumn sunlight broke through the early mist over the parkland, I ran along the gravel path beside the high brick wall surrounding the stables. Then taking a deep breath, I charged through the archway into the yard and had to jump back from the sweating body of a huge black stallion, rearing up and thrashing the air with his hooves.

With an angry shriek the horse began a furious dance, swinging his body from side to side and trying to shake off the groom clinging to his lead rope. The small, grizzled-haired man, although heavily built with big fists, was no match for the angry beast, and he punched the stallion’s neck, making him wilder than ever.

The horse bellowed with rage, gave a twist of his spine, and I watched in horror as the man flew into the air and landed on the cobbles with a sickening thud. The stallion reared again, furious and snorting with anger, about to bring his enormous weight smashing down on his tormentor, and I yelled, ‘Thunder, don’t!’

At the sound of my voice the horse seemed frozen in time. He hung motionless in the air, balanced on his hind legs, the muscles in his haunches rippling under the skin. I thought he was about to topple backwards and foolishly flung out my arms as if to save him. But with a tremendous effort he heaved his body forward, his hooves clattered the yard, and the groom scrambled to safety.

Wound up like an enormous watch spring, the stallion trotted towards me. In a few strides of his long, powerful legs he’d be on top of me. It took all my courage to stand my ground. For one dreadful moment I thought I’d be trampled, but he sidestepped and came to a bouncing halt, his chest towering above me.

In the sharp morning air, I felt the heat of his silky body. His damp breath formed white clouds around his muzzle, wetting my face. He dipped his head, stared at me with large, liquid eyes, and nipped my shoulder.

He had not forgotten me.

I sighed with relief mixed with growing excitement, reached up to pat his neck, and an angry shout startled me. I turned and saw the groom striding towards me, his face twisted in anger. He snatched up Thunder’s dangling lead rope, grabbed me by my jacket, and almost lifted me off my feet.

I was astonished, for if I hadn’t cried out Thunder might have killed him. I tried to pull away, but he thrust his red, weather-roughened face into mine and shook me. I struggled to break free, and an icy voice said, ‘That boy saved your life, Crake. Let him go.’

‘I’ll finish you, pit rat − I’ll send you back to the hole you crawled out of,’ the groom muttered between clenched teeth.

Then his savage expression turned into a lopsided grin, he released me, pretended to straighten my jacket, and I saw the reason for the sudden change in him.

A tall, thin man in black riding clothes was walking across the yard, his dark, piercing eyes, pale face, and cloud of white hair made him instantly recognisable. He wore the same coat, breeches, and polished hessian boots he’d worn the night his farm workers rescued my friend Sam and me on Coalport Quay, and I bent my head in greeting as I’d seen my father do.

It was Sir Edmund Atterley, the owner of the big house Atterley Hall, all the land to the river, and over Wenlock way. That night at Coalport he’d looked after Sam, sending for the doctor. But now his lined face was full of anger, and he gripped his riding crop so hard the knuckles of his hand showed white through the skin.

‘This boy seems to have more horse craft than you will ever possess, Crake,’ he said. ‘If you cannot control the stallion, I shall give the lad a chance to do so.’

‘Sorry, Sir,’ Crake said, bending his head and giving me a sly look full of hatred. Then with a humble, fawning voice, he said, ‘I’m sure the boy will be of great use to you, but I can’t help wondering... isn’t he young to have care of the stallion? Can he ride?’

I suppressed a bitter cry. I’d led the pit pony Drummer in the mine, but I’d never ridden him.

‘Well? What age are you?’ Sir Edmund said, looking down at me, a frown creasing his forehead.

‘Nearly eleven, Sir.’

‘Hmmm... can you ride?’

‘No, Sir, I can’t, but I learn fast.’

He remained silent, and I waited, terrified he’d dismiss me. Then to my great joy he said, ‘Toby, shall teach you. What is your name? I’ve seen you before, haven’t I?’

‘Hale, Joshua Hale, Sir.’

‘Ah, yes the pit boy... has your family moved into the shepherd’s cottage? Has Edwards repaired the roof?’

‘Yes, thank you, Sir. We’ve been in the cottage a week−’

‘You have an older sister?’

‘Maria’s gone to work in your dairy, she−’

‘What news of your father? Does he recover from his injury?’

‘Mum’s looking after him, he grows stronger every day, Sir.’

He nodded. ‘As soon as your father is well, your mother must return to the Hall, my wife has need of her.’

‘I’ll tell her, Sir’ I said, then added, ‘my family thank−’

But before I could say any more, he’d left the yard, and I looked up at the twitching, angry face of the groom. I can run fast. If I ran, I’d be through the stable arch and across the park before he caught me. But even as I thought this, I knew I’d stay and take the beatings. Anything was better than telling Mum I’d no money to give her for food, or to give to the doctor when he visited Dad, and I braced myself, ready for the first blow, but it never came.

Thunder shifted restlessly, scraped his hooves on the cobbles, and the groom said, ‘You knowing the maister won’t do you no good. I’ll make sure you’re gone from here by day’s end. That cottage belongs to me.’ Then thrusting Thunder’s lead rope at me, he told me to follow him and hurried into the stables.

Left alone with Thunder, I was not sure if such a head-strong horse would obey me. But I needn’t have worried. He sniffed my face, and encouraged by his gentle interest, I told him to walk on.

To my surprise and delight he behaved like the gentlest mare, and I pretended to be head groom at Atterley, calling to the stable lads who scurried to obey me. But these happy imaginings didn’t last long, for I heard Crake bellow, ‘What are you doing out there, idiot? I’m not waiting all day.’

I was shocked out of my pretend world, at the mercy of this violent man, and I led the stallion through the stone pillared entrance and gasped open-mouthed in astonishment.

The stables were as high and wide as the pit bottom cave at the Blists Hill mine. But this was no dark, underground hole with a bitter cloud of coal dust, a dull glow from the braziers, and the sharp stink of our privy. The stable’s steep roof, supported on heavy, carved beams, made a great, airy space. The smell of sweet, fresh hay, mingled with the tang of horse sweat and dung, was strong in my nostrils.

To the right and left of me the corridor seemed never ending. On both sides of the brick tiled floor were rows of loose boxes. Hay dust danced in sunlight from the small windows high above my head, and I longed to stop and look at everything. But knowing I mustn’t keep Crake waiting, I quickened my stride, and grateful to Thunder for keeping pace with me, I hurried him along the corridor.

A gentle shuffling, and the whisper of soft mouths pulling hay, came from the loose boxes. At the sound of Thunder’s hooves, curious horses thrust their heads over the low stable doors to stare. Varnished wooden walls divided one stall from its neighbour, each topped with a small iron railing painted a cheerful green.

On each door was a polished brass nameplate, and I thought of the pit ponies in the mine. Coal dust covered their feed, their harnesses rubbed their backs raw, and I was wishing they were safe at the Atterley stables, when Crake barked, ‘Get a move on, pit rat,’ and I hurried to lead the thoroughbred into his stall.

I had little time to settle the horse before the groom marched off again, and I was only just in time to see him disappear through a door at the end of the corridor. I raced after him, scared I’d be punished for keeping him waiting, and followed him into the cool dimness of a large room full of the smell of leather.

In the dusty light, I saw a beamed ceiling, scrubbed stone-flagged floor, and a ladder leading to a hayloft. On whitewashed walls, hanging from iron hooks, were rows of bridles, bits, and stirrups. In the middle of the room were wooden stands, each with a polished saddle that gleamed in thin shafts of sunlight.

I stretched out my hand to touch a saddle’s smooth, bright surface, and Crake growled, ‘What are you gawping at? Never seen a tack room before? Some stable lad you’ll be,’ and he shoved me hard. ‘The maister said you were to saddle Thunder. But don’t you be getting any grand ideas. This is the first and last time you’ll do it. You’ll learn who’s in charge around here, though it won’t do you no good. You won’t be here long. I’ll see to that.’

In front of me were rows of saddles. Did the stallion have a special one? I was too afraid to ask. Crake watched me. He seemed to be enjoying my misery, ready to lash out if I made a mistake. With shaking hands, I picked up the nearest saddle, but the groom tore it from me and snarled, ‘Not that one, you idiot, the one over there, you fool.’

I dived towards it, relieved to find it had stirrups, leathers, and girth attached, lifted the saddle and pad from the stand,