Betty Stoggs' Baby

Betty grew up in Towednack, her father worked at the Bal Wheel Reeth. Betty was an outdoorsy maid, she loved weeding and digging in her father’s field, never minding earth on her hands, or getting mud on her knees and she didn’t much like homemaking. She had long brown hair, wavy in the wind and her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she traipsed across the cliffs searching for choughs' nests and staring out to sea watching ships go by. Betty’s mother tried to tame her child and teach her how to knit and sew, to cook and to clean, but everywhere Betty went a whirlwind of mess was left behind. Betty, without being unkind, was an untidy girl and not the cleanest, she often had muddy knees and furze in her hair, she never cleared anything up after herself. Betty’s parents were a bit blind to their daughter’s appearance and character, as she grew up, they saved every penny so she might catch a decent husband. 

When Betty did find a husband, he was a bit of a rogue and lived as much out and about as with Betty. When home, they were a jolly couple and liked good food and drink, Betty’s nose and cheeks became a little red with a dram too much gin. Within the year, a baby was born and Betty adored her baby. However, she was not best suited to mothering. Betty sang to her baby and she chatted away to her little one but when baby’s nose needed wiping, Betty didn’t notice and baby had a grimy, slimy face. When baby needed a wash, Betty did occasionally bathe it in the stream, but not often enough and when baby dribbled milk, her clothes were left on unwashed and smelt sour.

 Staying in and keeping house was hard for Betty. One day, left alone with her baby, Betty looked out of the window at the sun filled sky and could hear birds singing and smell spring had arrived. ‘You’ll be just fine for an hour,’ Betty said to her baby. ‘Mummy Betty will be back by the time you wake up from your napping,’ and with that she put on her shoes and went out, leaving the door ajar. As she walked, she gulped every breath of freedom. The coastal flowers were beginning to come out and the birds were busy building nests. Betty lost all track of time so happy was she to be out in the Cornish countryside. 

As morning turned to afternoon, Betty felt a bit chilly, the wind was catching her bare arms and scraping at her ears, she realised she had been gone far too long and hurried back to her baby. What would her husband say if he found the baby alone, or even worse her mother? Would her baby be hungry, would her baby be soiled? Betty worried all the way down the lane back to her cottage. Strangely, there was no sound of a baby crying and no smell of a baby as she entered the room. Betty stared in dismay at the empty cradle. Where could her baby be? With a sickening feeling, Betty searched the messy house looking for her baby. She rummaged through piles of clothes and piles of pans; she looked under the sink and under the beds. Could baby have rolled out of her cradle, could she have been taken to her granny’s? 

Betty ran all the way up the path to her parents’ home, and burst inside. Tears were sticking to her cheeks and her nose, knotty hair fell over her eyes, her dress was torn and her feet bare. ‘Goodness me, whatever is the matter, Betty?’ her mother asked. ‘My baby!’ wailed Betty. The whole village came out looking for Betty’s baby, they searched the fields, and bal (mine) and kitchens but no baby was to be seen or heard. There was a lot of chin wagging about Betty and her baby. ‘Lost her baby in amongst all the mess, she has.’ ‘Never cared for the poor wee one.’ ‘Mucky maid, is our Betty.’ ‘I tell you what ‘tis,’ said one. ‘What tis?’ they all said together. ‘They small people.’ ‘You never did say.’ ‘They’ll give baby a good wash mind and leave it out to dry.’ ‘We must find Betty’s baby before they takes it again.’ But nobody could find Betty’s babe. 

The next morning, Betty was out foraging and weeping, missing her baby. When, sure enough, asleep in the mossy grass in amongst the furze, was a babe. But was this Betty’s babe? Betty rubbed her teary eyes in disbelief. The baby was clean as could be and wrapped in a pretty piskey shawl, it held in its hand a sweet bouquet of violets, primroses, and mint, singing a baby gurgle. ‘Oh, my dear baby,’ said Betty, scooping her up in her arms, ‘You and me, we’ll always stick together and we’ll never be mucky again.’