Here she was locked in a large, communal cell which had only dank straw strewn on the floor on which to sleep with no bedding and a couple of wooden buckets to serve as toilets for a number of women, mainly thieves and drunkards, with whom she would be sharing the cell.
There was little sleep for Eliza that night. Not only were many of the women noisy and fractious, but their numbers were frequently supplemented throughout the night hours by a number of complaining prostitutes who had been arrested in the busy port, most having frequented the many dockside bars and inns that catered for sailors from all over the world.
The next morning, Eliza was taken from the cell by the two London policemen and without breakfast and having had no time to wash or otherwise tidy herself, she was driven to the railway station in the same police van that had conveyed her from the police station the previous evening. Here she and her escort boarded a London bound train.
Four hours later, thoroughly depressed by the sight of row upon row of London houses backing on to the railway line, all of which seemed dirty and dreary in comparison to Cornwall, the train arrived at its destination and she was taken in a Hackney carriage to Bow Street police station.
Here Sergeant Grubb managed to obtain a bowl of soup and a hunk of bread for her but she barely had time to finish it before she was hustled before a stony-faced magistrate. After listening to the charges against her and speaking only to ask confirmation of her name, he remanded her in custody to Newgate, ‘In order that further enquiries might be made.’
She was escorted to the prison handcuffed to Sergeant Grubb and on the way asked him how long she was likely to remain in Newgate.
‘I shouldn’t think it’ll be too long,’ was the reply. ‘They’ll need to find the record of your conviction and sentence and have Constable Wicks formally identify you as being Eliza Brooks. Then I’ll give evidence about the manner of your escape from the ship taking you to Australia and your subsequent arrest, then you’ll be sent back to the Old Bailey for a judge to decide on whether you’ll be sent to Australia again for seven years, or whether he’ll add to it because you escaped from custody.’
‘It wasn’t exactly an “escape”,’ Eliza pointed out, close to tears, ‘I was got off the ship by the Mate. If anyone helped me “escape” it was him but you can’t do anything to him because he was drowned, and if it wasn’t for him so would I be. But perhaps it would have been better if I had been.’
‘Now don’t get thinking like that, girl. I know things look bad for you now, but while there’s life there’s hope, and I believe there are a lot of women sent to Australia who settle down and eventually make a good life there for themselves.’
‘I had made a good life for myself, in Cornwall and would have settled down to a good life with a kind husband! Anyway, what you’re saying ain’t what I heard before, when I was on the hulk waiting for a ship to take me out there. According to the women who knew all about transportation it’s hell on the ship going out there and even worse once you’ve arrived.’
‘Well, as you know yourself, you can’t believe everything people tell you, especially the sort of women who are in prison.’
‘You mean the sort of women like me?’
Sergeant Grubb found he had no answer to Eliza’s embittered question and he remained silent.
That night, at home with his wife, soon after his young daughter had gone to bed, Sergeant Grubb spoke to his wife about Eliza, commenting that he felt very sorry for the predicament she was in, having spent the last three years making a good and honest life for herself.
During all the years they had been married, Sergeant Grubb’s wife had never known him to be so visibly moved over any of those he had arrested in the course of his duties.
‘She sounds as though she is a nice girl who has been really hard done by. Isn’t there anything you can do to help her?’
‘I can tell the court how she has spent the past three years and how highly she is praised by everyone who knows her, but that won’t alter the fact that she is under sentence of seven years transportation. The best she can hope for is that the sentence won’t be increased and I can’t guarantee that.’
‘It sounds very hard to me,’ his wife said. ‘It’s a pity she hasn’t got someone to speak up for her. I hate to think of a young girl like our Mary suffering in that way with no father, or anyone else, to speak up for her.’
‘So do I,’ Sergeant Grubb said unhappily. ‘It kept me awake last night worrying about it, but I can’t think of anything I can possibly do to help her.’
Eliza’s plight kept him awake again that night. Lying in bed beside his sleeping wife, he went over the case in his mind, trying desperately hard to think of any way he might possibly be able to help her.
Chapter Three
NEWGATE PRISON HAD not changed. It was still the place of Eliza’s nightmares and memories came flooding back as soon as the first iron-barred door slammed shut behind her and the smell of the place hit home in full force. It was the stench of unwashed bodies, primitive sanitation and the indefinable odour of human misery.
She had been travelling for two days without a wash or an opportunity to tidy herself to any degree, but her dress and personal appearance were still far superior to any of the women with whom she would be sharing a large, straw-strewn communal cell, and because of this she attracted unwanted attention.
A few of the women crowded around her, eyeing her up and down and one of them quipped, ‘Well look at this, they’re treating us as ladies at last and have brought in a maid to look after our every need. I think we’ll start off by having tea and biscuits, ducks, and mind you use the best china, we’re expecting guests.’
Her words brought forth a mixture of jeers and coarse laughter and one prisoner, big-busted and grossly overweight said, ‘I like those clothes you’re wearing, dearie, some of my men get a thrill out of seeing women wearing clothes like that. I’ve often wondered what they’d do if I was to dress myself up as a housemaid.’
Another of the women, carrying only marginally less weight than the one who had spoken to Eliza now said, ‘You try putting on what she’s wearing and your blokes will see more of you than they’ll enjoy seeing, because more than half of you’ll be hanging out.’
Her comment provoked more laughter and the first speaker turned on her angrily, ‘Are you saying I’m fat?’
‘It don’t matter whether I’m saying it or not, you are fat. Fat as a pregnant old sow.’
‘Why you…!’ The insulted woman launched her considerable weight at her insulter and they both fell to the floor scattering straw about them as they screamed obscenities, at the same time yanking out hair and throwing wild blows at each other.
The communal cell erupted in noise as the women convicts encouraged one or other of the combatants, the sound quickly spreading to other cells, some of whose occupants could see what was happening, others merely using it as an excuse to make a noise.
It was not long before warders had gathered in sufficient numbers to enter the cell safely with batons flailing and the participants were seized and dragged off to one of the prison’s ‘cold holes’ where they would remain for a few days in order to cool off.
The incident had unnerved Eliza, but at least her clothes were safe for the moment. One of the prisoners who had watched the antics of the two fighting women with quiet contempt now approached and asked Eliza, ‘Are you all right?’
When Eliza nodded, the woman said, ‘My name’s Grace, what’s yours?’
When she was told, Grace said, ‘We’re well rid of those two, they’re women of the worst type, selling themselves for the price of a gin in the alleyways behind the dockland ale-houses. One of them had the cheek to ask me if I would take her on when she got out. I told her, someone like her would frighten my gentlemen away! Now you’re very different, Eliza, a girl like you could make a great deal of money in my establishment in Covent Garden, especially dressed up in a neat and clean maid’s uniform. You have the lo
oks and the bearing that attracts men. With a little tuition from some of my girls you’d soon be attracting your own regulars. What are you in here for?’
Eliza had quickly realised this woman was a brothel keeper, but she was obviously of a class above the other occupants of the communal women’s cell who appeared to leave her alone. It would be as well to remain on a friendly footing with her if it were at all possible.
‘I was sentenced to seven years transportation for stealing from my employer, even though I only took what was owing to me in wages. That was three years ago, but the ship taking me was wrecked in a storm. Luckily – or so I thought at the time – I survived. I’ve spent the time since then working as a ladies’ maid, in Cornwall.’
‘What a fascinating story, my dear, but that means of course you will be sent off to complete your sentence.’
Eliza was aware the woman was disappointed that she would not be able to recruit her to entertain the men who frequented her ‘establishment’ but, anxious to keep her as an ally, she asked, ‘How long will you be in here?’
‘Only until one of my many influential men friends hears of my predicament and pays the fine imposed on me by one of the few magistrates in the area who is not one of my regular visitors.’
Looking speculatively at Eliza, Grace said, ‘I don’t suppose you have any influential friends able to make life easier for you while you are in here?’
Eliza shook her head, ‘All the friends I made are in Cornwall and that’s a long way from Newgate.’
‘I wouldn’t know, my dear, I have never found it necessary to venture away from London and because of that I am familiar with all aspects of city life … even what goes on here, in this ghastly prison. I know the head warder and his little whims very well. If I explained them to you and informed him that you were willing to be nice to him, life in here could be far more pleasant for you – indeed, for both of us. What do you say?’
Despite her wish to keep this woman on her side, Eliza was unwilling to pay the price Grace was asking for her friendship. ‘It’s because I wouldn’t be nice to the husband of my employer that I was sentenced to transportation in the first place. I’m not likely to change the way I think just to make things a bit more comfortable here, in prison.’
Looking at Eliza disdainfully, Grace said, ‘Then more fool you. Every time you sit down you are sitting on a fortune, why not use it and make life easier for yourself?’
Angry now, Eliza threw caution to the wind, ‘If you are so good at giving good advice, what are you doing in here with all the rest of the women like me who’ve broken the law?’
‘I am here simply because I failed to pay enough to the policemen on the beat to close their eyes when they saw men coming to my house at all times of the day and night. One of them became greedy when I failed to pay what he asked and so he would stand right outside the door, watching the world go by. He frightened off those gentlemen to whom discretion is most important, with the result that my income fell off so alarmingly I had less to pay to those policemen who were more amenable. One of them reported me to his superior officers in a fit of pique and my establishment was raided. But why am I telling this to you? You have the chance to make things easier for both of us, my dear. If you are foolish enough to turn down such an opportunity then I am afraid you must accept the consequences.’
*
Eliza had very little sleep that night in Newgate prison. The communal cell was extremely crowded and included among their number were women who should have been committed to an asylum. One of these was a young woman who alternated between pleas to The Lord to take her, and shrieks of loud insane laughter.
Then, just as Eliza was dozing off in the early hours of the morning there was a stealthy movement before she felt the hands of someone searching her body, seeking anything that might prove to be of value.
Lashing out with her fist, she struck the unseen would-be robber in the face and had the satisfaction of hearing a grunt of pain, then the woman was gone but Eliza found she was unable to sleep for the remainder of the night.
In the morning one of a group of gipsy women who had been arrested under the Vagrancy Act sported a bruised eye and, confronting her, Eliza warned that if the actions of the previous night were repeated, this time she would ensure she had something heavy in her hand when she struck out.
Eliza hoped this would be the end of the incident but later, when a cauldron of soup was brought in as the main meal of the day, she found great difficulty pushing her way through the gipsies in order to reach the cauldron. She eventually succeeded, only to have the bowl of soup ‘accidently’ knocked from her hand as she returned with it to a place in the corner of the cell.
Eliza faced the prospect of going to bed hungry that night but, unexpectedly, Grace came and sat down on the straw beside her and produced bread and cheese. Handing it to her, she said, ‘Don’t ask where it came from, just accept that it’s from “an admirer”. See sense and not only will there be more to come but you might even be given a cell to yourself.’
Wolfing down bread and cheese quickly in case Grace should decide to take it back, Eliza said, ‘I’m grateful for the food, but I told you, I’m in here because I refused to give a man what he wanted from me. Besides, before I was arrested again I had agreed to marry someone in Cornwall, a good man who would look after me properly.’
‘That was in Cornwall,’ Grace retorted, ‘but you’re never likely to meet up with him again. You’re in Newgate now and have upset that lot over there.’ She indicated the gipsies, ‘So if you stay here things can only get worse. When are you expecting to be taken before the judge?’
‘I don’t know, nobody has told me.’
‘Well think about what I’ve said. It’s entirely up to you whether you appear before him looking clean and tidy, creating a good impression, or stand in the dock dirty and unkempt, looking like one of them.’ Once again she jerked her head in the direction of the gipsies.
That night the hopelessness of her situation flooded over Eliza as never before and she cried silently for many of the hours of darkness. Fortunately, no one tried to rob her but, just in case, she kept a firm grip on the only thing of value that she possessed, the silver heart necklace that Tristram had bought for her at Camelford fair.
The thought of Tristram made her tears flow even faster and by morning, tired and defeated, she was in such a despondent frame of mind she was almost ready to agree to any proposal Grace might put to her, but the self-confessed brothel keeper seemed to be avoiding her.
Then, early that afternoon, Eliza received a surprise visit from the governor of the prison – and with him was Commander The Honourable Jory Kendall in full naval uniform!
Chapter Four
EVENTS MOVED FAST for Eliza following the arrival of Jory Kendall. Feeling as though she was in a dream from which she feared she would all too soon wake up, she was led from the crowded communal cell and taken to a small, single cell which, while by no means luxurious, was vastly superior to the one she had just left, even having a wooden sleeping bench on which she would be able to sit during the day.
Here, showing considerable deference to the now-senior naval officer, the governor said he would leave them alone for a while, telling Jory he should call for one of the warders should he wish to leave the prison before the governor’s return.
When he had gone, a tearful Eliza stammered her thanks to Jory for coming to find her in the prison, asking, ‘Has Miss Alice written to you and asked you to come here to try to make things more comfortable for me?’
Jory had been shocked by the tired and dishevelled appearance of Eliza but, trying not to allow his feelings to show, he replied, ‘No, although I have no doubt an urgent letter from her is on its way, but I had a visit from Sergeant Grubb, the policeman we both met at Camelford fair, and who arrested and brought you here from Trethevy. He is a kindly man, Eliza. Although he had no alternative but to carry out his duty to arrest you and bring you here, he is not happy
about the circumstances of your conviction. Despite the knowledge that his career would be at risk should his superiors learn of it, he came to see me at the Admiralty and informed me of your arrest, and told me the story behind it.’
‘How did he know where to find you? When you last met you were both in Cornwall.’
‘He said you told him on the journey from Cornwall that I was here in London. But to get back to the reason for you being here, why did you never tell Miss Alice about your past? She would have realised, as Sergeant Grubb obviously does, that your conviction was an appalling miscarriage of justice and would have judged you solely on your loyalty and service to her.’
‘We neither of us knew anything about each other when she found me among the rocks after the storm. Had I told her before she really got to know me, she and Reverend Kilpeck would have felt obliged to report me to the magistrates and they would have arrested me and sent me back here. Instead, I had the chance to make a new life for myself and prove to everyone that I’m honest. Besides, I loved working for Miss Alice and was so happy at Trethevy I didn’t want to risk losing everything. I was even happier when I got to know Tristram and he said he wanted to marry me. I thought that once we were married I would be taking his name so no one would ever know I’d once been Eliza Brooks. Now it’s all gone wrong and I’m back in prison, waiting to be transported once more. I’ll never see Tristram ever again and it was wrong to let him fall in love with me. But I did tell him all about me after that woman at the fair said who I was. I should have told Miss Alice and Reverend Kilpeck then too, but I was afraid they wouldn’t want me working for them any more. Will you tell her I didn’t mean for this ever to happen and that I could never have found someone nicer than her to work for?’
Jory thought he had never seen anyone quite as unhappy as Eliza was right now. He felt he wanted to hug her and tell her that everything was going to be all right, but he could do neither. All he was able to do was tell her there was still hope.
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