Sundays

Sundays are a recurring point of relief and connection within the workhouse’s tightly regulated week, but they do not free its children from discipline or hardship. Churchgoing, a somewhat better meal, and the prospect of seeing familiar people make the day distinct; Sunday Small’s determination to return each week later turns that routine into a promise of continued family-like bonds.

Sundays in the workhouse routine

The workhouse separated women, boys, girls, and men into different sections, and residents spent workdays on assigned labor. Men and stronger boys might pick oakum, crush bones, or work in the gardens; women and girls sewed uniforms, cooked, cleaned, or worked in the laundry. Inmates rarely came together except on Sundays, when they were allowed to attend church. The weekly observance therefore offered a limited exception to an institutional order that could keep families apart.

Sunday did not mean freedom from work or supervision. On one Sunday routine, the children first attended a morning service at 11 a.m. After lunch, they washed and put away the dishes, then the girls lined up for inspection. Miss Frost sent back those whose hair or Sunday-best clothes did not satisfy her standards; a second offense in the same month could bring a whipping. Girls who passed inspection were marched to All Saints Church in Chilvers Coton for an afternoon hour with Miss Beau. Religious observance thus sat alongside strict regulation of the children’s appearance and conduct.

The walk itself was one of the day’s pleasures for Sunday Small: the route passed a florist’s shop, crossed the canal bridge, and went beneath the Coton Arches. In March 1884, she and Daisy Branning again walked in file to All Saints Church, admiring spring flowers and birds along the way. The birds’ freedom sharpened Sunday Small’s awareness of her own confinement, even as the open-air walk and the prospect of seeing Mrs Lockett made the service welcome.

Worship, food, and learning

Sunday also brought a modest improvement to the workhouse meal. The children might receive meat, potatoes, vegetables, and occasionally rice pudding, though the meat could be gristly and the pudding was uncommon. The difference was relative, not evidence of adequate provision: Sunday Small remembered the usual food as dry grey bread, greasy porridge, and thin soup, and she told Lady Lavinia Huntley that the meals were poor. She also described punishment in a cellar where she had been kept for three days without food or drink, until Mrs Lockett came looking for her. Her account makes the contrast plain: a better Sunday lunch could not erase the neglect and deprivation of ordinary institutional life.

The church visit was also a chance for reading and instruction. Miss Beau, who later became Mrs Lockett, read Bible stories to the workhouse children; Sunday Small particularly loved the account of baby Moses being found among the bulrushes and learned to read it herself. The guardians required the children to learn reading and writing, and Sunday Small eagerly read whatever she could find. These lessons gave the weekly religious routine an educational dimension, while Sunday’s visits to church also sustained her affection for a teacher who had been kind to her.

The day as a bond beyond the workhouse

When Biddy Spooner considered taking Sunday Small into employment, Sunday asked whether she could continue visiting the other children. She wanted every Sunday afternoon to see Daisy Branning and Tommy Branning, as well as a couple of hours on Sunday morning to attend church and see Mrs Lockett. Her request made clear that leaving the institution would not mean abandoning the relationships she had formed there. Biddy Spooner recognized that Sunday knew what she wanted and was willing to ask for it.

Before Sunday left, Tommy Branning approached the fence separating the girls’ and boys’ airing yards. Sunday promised she would return every Sunday afternoon, regardless of difficulty. Tommy worried aloud that her new employer might not treat her well and said she would have him to answer to once he was out of the workhouse. The weekly visit thus became a pledge between friends, giving Sunday’s departure a continuing connection to those still inside.

A changing institution and a later observance

The meaning of those returns changed as conditions at the workhouse improved. Verity Lockett reported that meals had become better and that fear and bullying had receded after the old regime ended; the new matron had snapped Miss Frost’s cane and thrown it away. She also proposed replacing the inadequate blankets. Sunday’s recurring visits therefore belonged to a changed institution, although the reform did not erase the neglect she had earlier described.

A separate church occasion, Mothering Sunday, brings the day’s associations with worship and family into a culminating scene. With Tom’s encouraging squeeze of her fingers, Sunday Small rose and carried violets to Lady Lavinia Huntley, addressing her as Mother. The gesture and their embrace mark a reconciliation; it is not simply another weekly visit, but a special observance that gathers the novel’s concerns with motherhood and belonging into a public act of recognition.