Margaret's stay at the Workhouse extended indefinitely. Her typing of the Journal was finished long ago. They'd printed in out and had two copies spiral bound for easy reading. Much of the later entries were rather repetitive in their accounts of who were punished on Saturdays but there were still some entries they liked to read over. Like this one.

'September 29th 1831

A fortnight ago I had a visit from Wm. Forsdyke, the shipping and forwarding agent who is now married to Martha. He brought along a woman he'd found sleeping in one of his warehouses. She'd readily offered her body to him if he'd let her stay but she smelled too badly for him to even think of it. However, he saw that under the ragged clothes and grime she wasn't too bad looking and looked strong. He ordered a couple of his stevedores to 'scrub her down' and gave them a few coppers to get some clothes from Eastons the second-hand clothes store on the quayside for her.' Her name he found out was Dorothy Preston but everyone calls her Dilly.

"Sounds like me all over again," muttered Margaret as she read through the first paragraph. "I bet they didn't call them 'bag ladies' then. I wonder what the term was?"

'William said he watched the men from his office window and related what went on. It seemed to amuse him. "The woman naturally objected to being undressed by the men especially as many of the other workers kept passing by but after she had a couple of buckets of sea water thrown over her and was soaked from head to toe she took the clothes off by herself. Standing in front of the men she swore at them in true docker's language. "Is that what you fucking wanted to see you scum faced bastard buggers?" she asked and continued to swear and hurl abuse at them. The stevedores were big tough men and just laughed at her then knocked her to the ground with more water and set to with brooms and a little soap and scrubbed her as she rolled on the floor. Luckily for Dilly, they'd been sweeping flour earlier so the brooms were the softer ones. Nevertheless they weren't too gentle with her and the handles found their way into her crotch at times and her titties bounced well when the scrubbed them. Eventually I stepped in and gave her a cloth to dry herself and put her in a room by herself. This was more to keep my men working and not making sport of her, rather than to protect her modesty. I could see clearly now, she was a strong woman used to manual work. When the men came back and she was dressed I set her cleaning the outer office until it was time to leave and then brought her here."

"Did she come willingly?" I asked.

"Sort of," William smiled, "It was here or being put in the lock-up for vagrancy. She's a bit rough and uncouth in her ways but no doubt a few touches from your birch will polish her up a bit. Underneath the rough exterior she seems quite a kindly woman. I only got part of her story so I'll leave you to find out more. If she doesn't fit in Josiah, let me know and I'll take her back to the dock and see if the Sailors Tavern would want her." I decided to take a look at her and found she was not too unattractive although she would need feeding up. At about thirty-five years old and quite tall and muscular for a woman, she was not a beauty queen by any means but would add to my stock of women and I figure she might sell as a bed partner to some lonely man if her manners improved.

I told Alice to give her a good meal as we had finished ours and then to have the women bath her and bring her to me. She seemed pleased enough when she heard about the meal but in her uncouth way spat out, "Don't need another bath Sir. Them buggers this morn scrubbed me bloody skin to ribbons." I of course reprimanded her for swearing and pointed out, that in this workhouse swearing was punishable by the strap and if continued, by the birch.

A little later I heard and altercation in the kitchen and could hear Dilly's angry voice. I also heard Alice call quietly for Jack so I waited to see what happened. The swearing continued but soon a crack of leather and the swearing was replaced by a scream. I entered the kitchen just as Katherine was stuffing Dilly's mouth with a cloth. Jack had her held fast but was having some difficulty in holding the powerful, struggling woman. "Put her on the punishment bar, Alice and deal with her later. She may have calmed a bit by then." It wasn't but a short time before Dilly was naked and strapped down to the pole on the punishment stool. I took the opportunity to examine her bottom and cunnie but without pushing my fingers inside and guessed they had both been well used.

Still the woman tried to struggle and we could tell she would be swearing at us had not the gag prevented it. Alice suggested we leave her for a while 'to calm down and think about her manners' and I agreed so we locked the door and left Dilly in there in complete darkness for over an hour.

When we returned with all the women to witness the punishment, Dilly was painfully aware of the narrow bar that ran between her breasts and pressed into her crack. I gave Dilly a long lecture on the behaviour I expected from the women here and the punishments they could expect. It ended with, "Dilly, if you wish to runaway in the morning, that's fine by me but if you wish to stay and get three good meals a day you will conform to our rules. Your behaviour would normally warrant a severe birching in front of our Saturday guests but because it is your first time and I am still able to ask Mr. Forsdyke to take you back to the dock area next week if I am not satisfied with you, I will allow Alice as head of the household, to give you a thorough strapping." Turning to Alice I urged her to thrash the woman soundly. She did. The strap repeatedly lashed her buttocks and upper thighs until the whole area was red raw. Afterwards Jack wanted to ram his prick into her bottom hole but I refused to allow it until the doctor had seen her and checked she was free of the diseases many dockside whores carry. We left her again in darkness until Alice had her removed to a bed and asked Kate Katherine? to treat her bottom.

Dilly glared sourly at me when I arrived in the kitchen for breakfast. Kate and Mildred had helped her down and she didn't reply when I gave my usual "Good Morning Ladies" greeting. Alice set her to work first with Mildred and then Kate and after two days I asked all three to report on how she had performed. All said she appeared somewhat clumsy and Kate said, "Although she seems to try, Dilly never seems to have worked with fine materials and consequently is constantly breaking the threads or tearing the cloth. I don't think it's really her fault Sir, she's just never been trained. She's got big awkward hands and the muscles of a man."

I sent for Dilly. At first my questions were answered with one or two words until Kate spoke to her. "What sort of sewing did you do before you came here?" she asked.

"Sewed sails, heavy canvas stuff. Used a palm and sail needle and waxed twine. Not thin cotton. I can splice ropes, reeve a tackle and skull a boat. All my life I've been at sea." I have translated her words into more readable english as her Northumberland dialect was strong and her choice of words indelicate.

"Do you wish to go back to sea?" I asked.

"No Sir. Not no more. I've had enough of the sea now."

"Well I don't know what to put you on doing here Dilly," I said, "Your not into housework, you can't handle fabrics and I fear much would get torn in the laundry if I put you there. I shall have to think about how to fit you into our community or give you back to Mr. Forsdyke."

"If you please Sir." It was Mildred that spoke, "Why not try her in the garden Sir. Percy's always complaining the garden is too big for one man to look after."

Percy was a man of forty years who I took into my employ a month ago. He lives on his own in a cottage in the village and works hard and has begun to get the garden in some sort of order after having been neglected for so long. After finding him in the tool shed eating his sandwiches alone one lunchtime, I suggested he sat with us and shared our lunch, which he has been doing for the past few weeks. At lunch that day I put the suggestion to him but he seemed shocked at the thought of a woman gardener. "They're alright doing some field work when needed but no respectable house that I knows of, has a woman gardener." I pointed out the woman was strong and could easily lift sacks and push a barrow. She was also used to an outdoor life and being outside in all weathers. "A woman's place is in the home and in the bed!" he stoutly argued.

Alice whispered to me. "Remember Bobby? We made a woman of him. Put trousers on her." This seemed a good idea and as I had to go into town the next day, I took her in the cart with me and visited Eastons and bought with several pairs of seaman's trousers, guernseys and shirts. She was a more talkative on the way back and I found out a little more of her life.

"I met Douglas Preston when I was fifteen. His father owned a collier and after seeing me a few times I went to sea with him. We were never married but we lived as man and wife although he was much older than I was. For about a year we got along fine but then some of the younger seaman started to woo me and after a while I let them have me. It was fairly easy to find places on the boat that were away from prying eyes but then Dougie caught me at it."

"What did he do about it, seeing neither you nor the seaman could leave?"

"He give us both lashing with the rope. It was freezing cold and the sea had quite a lop on, breaking o'er the starb'd bow and sending icy spray along the length of the brig. He has us both stripped starkers and I was tied to the foremast and him to the main so we could both see each other but I was in the worst of the spray. Soon I was wet all over. He'd already picked out two lengths of hemp as thick as your thumb and gives one to the mate. "Match my strokes on that fucking bastard," he orders and despite the motion lays it across my back while the rest of the crew watch. I screamed but it was lost in the noise of the wind and waves. I felt the rope rip a line of fire across my shoulders. He was very slow between each lash, as he had to wait until he'd got good balance and catch a moment when the ship was relatively still. Gradually he turned my whole back and arse into a mass of welts. God did I hurt. I cried, screamed and pleaded but he was too angry to stop. Through my wet eyes and the spray I could vaguely see the man getting the lash as well. Eventually it stopped and although it was very cold, my back and bum were on fire. I was left there for a while for the salt water to clean the wounds that were bleeding and then was taken to our cabin and bent over the table. Dougie rammed his cock in and kept yelling that his was the only cock that was to enter my cunnie in future and for a long while afterwards it was.

Over the years Dougie took more and more to rum and became less and less in charge of the vessel and Jock, the mate became captain without having the title. Dougie also lost much of his ability to get his prick up so I started to fuck with the mate. Inevitably we were caught. We thought he was in a drunken sleep when he burst into the mate's cabin. He was staggering pretty much so we were able to avoid him and get on to the open deck. There was a fair breeze that night too and we were heeled over so the lee scuppers were only just above the water. Jock leaned against the lee rail and held on to the ratlines. Doug rushed and slid over the slanted deck and swung a terrific fist at Jock's face. Jock was quick though and Doug, already unsteady on his feet, went over the side and that was the last I or anyone else saw of him. The few of the crew who saw it, all swore Dougie was drunk and slid on the wet deck and went straight over the side. I didn't mourn him much and Jock took over the captain's job, his cabin and me as his woman! I probably would have still been with him had he not been knifed in a pub brawl here a few weeks ago. Some of the crew decided I was unlucky as both my men had been killed and didn't want me on the ship so they left me here with my few possessions still on the brig."

Next day, attired in men's gear and her hair in a seaman's ponytail, she started work with Percy but there always seemed a good deal of resentment on his part to having a woman as his labourer. I cautioned him not to roger her. Although the good doctor had said she appeared free of infection, he said to wait a month and he would return and check her again, as the infection might be recent and not yet show any signs. This precluded my using her at the Saturday do's.

It was about a month later that an incident occurred that changed the relationship between the two. The river had been running high and floodwater was washing away part of our garden. To stem the erosion, I ordered a tumbrel of sand and two gross of sacks. The nearest we could get the tumbrel with its sand to the site was a hundred yards distant so the pair filled the sand bags at the heap and when enough had been done to start closing the breach, Percy tucked one under each arm and walked to the river. Dilly did the same and overtook him. It became a silent competition between them. Both could have used the barrow and carted more at a time but for some reason they had decided on this test of strengths.

Percy then put two under each arm and staggered down the garden. Dilly did likewise and kept pace with him. On the second trip with two under each arm, Percy cried out and dropped his load and lay moaning in the wet grass. "My bloody back's gone," he muttered. Without further ado, Dilly put the man over her shoulders and carried him through the back door into the kitchen. Sitting him on the table, she removed his boots and hers and then carried him to her room. Percy still screamed abuse at her for causing more pain to his back but she disregarded it and called out, "Miss Alice please bring some goose grease."

"It's swan at the moment," Alice replied, "But I expect it will be just as good." A swan had come on to our back garden a few evenings back and with no one about, Percy had broken its neck with a lump of wood and brought it to the kitchen. We'd hastily plucked and burned the feathers and Alice cooked the large bird, which made a welcome, if illegal addition to our diet. Ironic perhaps that its juice was to help ease the pain of the one who killed it.

When we arrived at the bedroom, Dilly was expertly divesting Percy of his clothing and soon had him laid out at full stretch and face down on the bed. Alice handed her the dripping and Dilly spread a liberal amount over his back. Percy still groaned in agony but his partner just told him to keep still. Dilly climbed on the bed and kneeling, straddled him with her legs. Charlotte quipped, "You need him the other way up to get your." She was silenced by Dilly's, "Shut your mouth slut." Before I could reprimand her for her language, she turned angrily to all of us, "If you are going to watch, do so in silence! I need to feel his bones and hear what I am doing, not your stupid comments!" I think her words took us all aback and we kept quiet while she started at the base of his spine and massaged each of his vertebrae. At about the third one we all heard a click and then a scream from Percy.

"Got it!," Dilly exclaimed, "You'll be alright now Percy boy but you're going to have to rest for a few days." She went on to check the rest of the spine but they seemed fine and then gave it arse a playful smack which left a deep red mark. "Just yew lay there Percy. I'll finish the sandbagging for yer then I'll cum and see ta yer. Don't yer runa away now!". Later she explained that it was not an uncommon problem on sailing ships where the men had to twist themselves and pull ropes or move cargo at awkward angles.

Percy slept in her bed for two nights before she allowed him up and we heard her rogering him on his last morning in bed. Milly peeped in and told everyone that Dilly was on top and doing the work but Percy wasn't minding. From then on, the pair worked more as a team. I have to admit, and so does Percy, she works very well in the garden and does an equal amount of work to him. I'm sure his prick is inside her quite frequently now especially when the inclement weather confines them to the potting shed.'

[Marginal note that wasn't in code]

May 27th 1832. Percy and Dilly married in Pennydelset church.