Her Jailer's Secrets: A broken family's fight against a brutal justice system

By Brian F. Smith

In 1786 Elizabeth Fitzgerald, a 26 year old woman, became involved in England's brutal justice system and found herself exiled from her homeland to Botany Bay in the antipodes where she had to endure brutality, near starvation, love and a shipwreck off Norfolk Island with her friend Jane Fitzgerald. She bore twin girls to a marine William Mitchell while on the island and began her own family in this strange new land, as she never expected to ever see her family members, or friends, ever again.
On her return to Sydney she began a new life with another soldier, Thomas Wright, with whom she had another child but was imprisoned again for selling her children's rations to purchase rum where she met a strange cockney woman named Margaret, who was in charge of the prison and who changed her life.
William Mitchell, who returned to England carried out an investigation into who Margaret really was as she had now died, and in doing so came up against Irish rebels who threatened his life but finally gave him a sealed letter as to her true identity, that could not be opened by anyone other than one of the two Fitzgerald women.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Apr 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781685833435

Book preview

Chapter Two

Guilty

The cry of the poor is not always just, but if you don’t listen to it, you will never know what justice is. - Howard Zinn

ELIZABETH Fitzgerald was desperately fighting her innermost feelings in order to appear outwardly calm and composed as she was finally called to the dock in the central London courthouse, known as the ‘Old Bailey.’ Ninety-two of her fellow prisoners had accompanied her from the Newgate jail next door to the courthouse that morning, all led along the same dark corridors they had passed through previously. She had wondered if she was to be returned to the same incarceration quadrangle along the same passages again following her ‘time in court’ later that same day. The time had come and the uncertainty of it all was killing her. Here she was now, standing alone waiting for her fate to be decided.

During the last few weeks she had been made aware by other prisoners that many judges didn’t discriminate between murder, stealing, or damaging of property. She also learned that many poor people had been hanged in the past for what some would see as minor infringements, and she had been told that the more recent punishment of transportation to the American colonies had now ceased. She also aware that number of crowded hulks berthed on the River Thames embarrassed the English upper class.

‘They want to get rid of poor people whose only hope of living was to steal ,’ she thought as she forlornly looked around the dimly lit, cold, and musty smelling courtroom.

Elizabeth Fitzgerald, she heard called out loudly. Her mind was suddenly jolted back to reality as she stood stiffly to attention facing the judge, who was seated behind a large highly polished wooden desk directly in front of where she was now standing. ‘He was indeed a stern looking man with an unfriendly face ,’ she couldn’t help but think, as she desperately searched for some sign of compassion. She particularly noticed his large white wig and almost smiled, albeit nervously, as she recalled one of her fellow prisoners telling her that the wig was made from horsetail hair. She fought hard to cut off thoughts of comparing the judge’s stern looking face with that of a horses bum. ‘I wonder if it was from a racehorse or a draught horse?’ She thought, as she stopped herself studying his ruddy complexion any further.

She then reverted to recalling what other prisoners had been saying about him in an adjoining room while they all waited patiently for their names to be called. She learned he was a judge who was not known for having any sympathy for the hapless souls brought before him.

She saw, seated to her right, a group of people all staring at her. She could feel their eyes looking her up and down, a feeling which made her feel like dropping to the floor to avoid any further examination. She realized they would be members of the Second Middlesex Jury who were assembled to help the judge determine her guilt, or innocence.

Although her head was spinning with all kinds of thoughts, she could clearly hear the bellowing voice of the man assisting the judge as he continued;

You have been indicted for feloniously stealing, on the 13th day of November last, one cotton gown, value seven shillings, the property of Thomas Clarke, in his shop. What say you, guilty or not guilty?

The desperate woman looked directly into the judge’s eyes and defiantly announced, Not guilty your Honor.

She watched as Henry Clarke was sworn in to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth and she also heard him say he was the brother and shop assistant of the shop owner, Thomas Clarke, who owned the shop at No. 4, High Street St. Giles.

She listened intensely as he told the court that on the thirteenth day of last November, at about half past seven in the evening, he saw her come into the shop and ask for a handkerchief in the name of Moreing. She heard him continue and thought to herself that the account he was relating was basically an honest exposition of what did occur that particular evening.

Elizabeth then heard the next witness being sworn and state that he was William Aldridge, the pawnbroker from the shop in Denmark Street.

She listened while he said;

"This cotton gown I received from the prisoner on the 13th of November, about eight at night.

"I lent five shillings on it. I am sure it was the prisoner that pledged it. I have known her for some time.

I asked her whose gown it was and she said it was not hers but a servant maid’s who lodged where she did, who got her to bring it in for her.

The judge then asked the first witness, Henry Clarke, Did you see her take it?

Henry Clarke replied, No.

Did you see her meddle with it at all?

No.

Was there anybody else in the shop?

A little girl of ours who was playing with another child.

What may be the value of it?

Seven shillings.

The judge finally asked Elizabeth if she had anything to say. She drew a deep breath before firmly stating;

It was an hour after the gown was pawned before I came for this handkerchief. The woman gave it to me to pawn and gave me a shilling to fetch the handkerchief. Mr. Aldridge can give me a character reference.

Mr. Aldridge replied, I had rather not.

She immediately felt her whole world collapse around her. The one man she believed to be her friend had let her down in her greatest moment of need.

Once all the trials were finished for the day the court began the task of passing sentences. When they got to Elizabeth Fitzgerald it was decided to sentence her to seven years transportation. Elizabeth was then taken back along the dark dimly lit passages that she was now becoming familiar with. On arrival at the jail door again the fat lady with no teeth was there to meet her but this time they were not strangers.

It was rumored in the prison, that the fat lady was once a prisoner here herself but when her term of incarceration had expired she chose to stay on as a volunteer, she pleaded that she had nowhere to go and she was afraid of reentering the world outside the prison. In prison she had a bed and received food, albeit at the mercy of London charities, and she had been there for the last 21years of her life.

Coincidentally, her gaining of her freedom coincided with the Gordon riots, when thousands of Londoners stormed the infamous prison that had recently been substantially rebuilt. The riots were so severe that Newgate was very near completely destroyed. Over one hundred prisoners were set loose into the streets, with the fat lady among them, but during the affray was found to have occasioned a severe assault suffering a severely broken jaw in which all her teeth had to be removed to allow healing to occur. When she recovered she was given work at the prison including sleeping quarters in a ward among the turnkeys in the new rebuilt prison.

It was now six years since the riots and the women prisoners, although doubtful about trusting the fat lady, didn’t altogether dislike her either. She was a constant and she studied each of the prisoners she came into contact with as though she was searching for someone, or something. Over the years she had got to know many of the convict families who had become incarcerated within the stone walls of Newgate prison that she now called her home. And, not being a prisoner anymore, she was free to come and go. She was a good source of information of what was going on outside the prison walls and what to expect inside from time to time as well. Elizabeth was to learn her value that night.

Elizabeth and the other prisoners were told by the fat lady with no teeth that of the ninety two men and women convicts tried that day none were found to be innocent.

She said, I know that 23 men were sentenced to death by hanging but no women. Nifty one people were sentenced to transportation and six of those were women, she read their names out, they were; Ann Ward, Elizabeth Evans, Ann Thorton, Ann Green, Ann Powell and Elizabeth Fitzgerald, she then continued, three other men are to be transported to Africa, Mary Jones is confined to hard labour for one month and seven men were to be whipped, only two women were fined, these being: Mary Adams and Mary Raymond. The remaining men were to do hard labor for various terms." She concluded.

Elizabeth felt comforted in discovering she now had others sharing her fate, especially Ann Ward, who was the woman with unruly brown hair and sad blue eyes who had befriended her on her first day at the prison. They were soon joined by the other four after seeking each other out within minutes of hearing the results of the day’s trials. They hugged and silently wept but they were no longer alone.

Elizabeth discovered later during a group discussion that her new friends had been convicted for the following crimes; Ann Ward (20) was convicted of stealing a red fox skin muff from a haberdasher, Elizabeth Evans (27) a domestic servant was found guilty of stealing three pounds of tea from a shop, Ann Thorton (32) convicted of stealing a muslin apron, a shirt, a pair of cotton stockings and a linen handkerchief, Ann Green was found guilty of stealing 19 china plates and one china bowel and Ann Powell aged 35, a servant charwoman and washerwoman for stealing clothing.

The next day the women woke to a silent environment, where any words that had to be spoken were exchanged in hushed tones and nobody accepted any offers of food for breakfast, despite a feeling of severe hunger haunting their food starved stomachs. It was the day when public hangings were to begin immediately outside their prison wall in Newgate Street directly in front of the debtor’s door of the prison.

As winter was approaching the hangings were scheduled to begin precisely at nine in the morning.

The gallows were erected on top of a box-like stage. On the part of the stage nearest the prison wall, two seats were placed for the sheriffs. At the middle of the scaffold was a movable platform raised six inches on a system of iron rolling bars. The executioner had simply to pull a lever and the condemned men, standing on this platform with nooses around their necks, would be left dangling over the trap door. The scaffold itself stood a full eight feet above the roadway making it easier for interested members of the public to bare witness to the whole grisly event. The unfortunate souls who were to end their days on Earth in such a manner were not brought into public view until shortly before the actual executions were to take place. During the executions, prisoners would be kept under strict discipline while the prison's funeral bell tolled.

Although the prisoners who had been sentenced to be hung had been taken to dungeons under the front of the prison building immediately after hearing their fate, others, both women and men prisoners, who had avoided such a demise, felt a certain kinship with the damned men. Their feelings were for the men themselves, not for what they had been found guilty of doing.

Precisely at nine o’clock the funeral bell began tolling, all the women in the quadrangle stopped whatever they were doing, Elizabeth felt herself weeping and she literally felt empty inside knowing that this was going to be repeated regularly until all the 23 sentenced to death had been hung.

Chapter Three

Nation Builders

When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves – Viktor Frank

THE fat lady with no teeth was the first to spread the word among the women awaiting transportation that they would soon be on their way to New South Wales. A further month had passed since Elizabeth and her five friends had been convicted of their crimes and prison life was taking its toll on both their mental and physical health. They were still wearing the same clothing they initially arrived in and had only been allowed to sponge their bodies down infrequently when water was made available.

All the women who were awaiting transportation, which included most of them, other than those recently admitted and still awaiting their trials, listened intently as the fat lady spoke.

Prime minister Pitt and Lord Sydney have decided to found a new convict colony at Botany Bay in Canterbury Tales that is located halfway around the world. It is to fill the American loss. The Prime Minister said the new colony will have a military port and will give the Empire a commercial and naval base in the South Pacific while growing trade with China. She then added, Youse will all scarpa flow to Portsmouth to join a penny dip, yer all goin in next cupla weeks.

True to the fat lady’s word, in early January, 54 women from Newgate prison, all shackled at the ankles, were led onboard the ship Lady Penrhyn berthed at Woolwich. Elizabeth and her five friends were among them only to discover that another 45 from other prisons were already onboard.

An inspection of the convicts boarding the ship prompted the following observation from Captain Arthur Phillip;

‘The situation in which the magistrates sent the women on board the Lady Penrhyn stamps them with infamy – tho’ almost naked and so very filthy, that nothing but clothing them could have prevented them from perishing...there are many venereal complaints, that must be spread in spite of every precaution I may take hereafter.’

The Lady Penrhyn was a new ship that had been built the previous year on the River Thames in London as a slave ship intended to transport slaves from Africa to the American Colonies. It was only 31 meters in length and just over eight meters wide. It was to carry 109 female convicts, two male convicts 13 convict children, a crew of 37, one civilian and 23 marines and their families.

On her arrival Elizabeth was taken below, to the lower deck, along with all her fellow convicts where their shackles were removed. Although her heart was heavy, at least the new wooden boat shed an overwhelming odor of freshly worked wood, it looked new and fresh, and it was clean.

She looked around as everybody settled in and was surprised that most of the women didn’t appear to be too depressed. In fact, as she looked closer, some even appeared to give the impression that they had already accepted their fate and were satisfied with what was happening to them, despite the one overwhelming thought they all shared; ‘the loss of ever seeing their native land again let alone their loved ones and family members.’

She noticed quite a few had been crying, some still were, but as soon as tears were formed they were just as quickly wiped away. ‘It was a time to be brave,’ she thought to herself, ‘no sense in pining or showing any discontent.’ She too then put on a false face of acceptance, even cheerfulness, to show she had resigned herself to a future that she knew not where it was taking her.

While waiting on board the Lady Penrhyn for the voyage to Botany Bay to begin, some of Elizabeth’s fellow convict women were involved in a quite vicious altercation and were placed in irons to keep them apart, soon after a strong wind began to blow and the ship started rocking around quite roughly. All onboard were effected by the ship’s movement, many became quite seasick and the embattled women became too ill to quarrel any further.

All the women convicts found time was passing slowly as they waited patiently on board in their overcrowded accommodation while all 11 ships in the fleet were being loaded with stores and other convicts, many from the hulks moored in the river, hulks that began their lives as proud naval warships, but were now used as floating prisons. A month later the Lady Penrhyn sailed down the Thames past the hulks and took anchor on a sandbank off the east coast between The Isle of Wight and Portsmouth known as the Motherbank. The Motherhead being a channel between the English Channel and the mouth of the Thames. It was here where the full fleet could congregate in calm water while continuing with their preparation for the long voyage ahead.

In an effort to pass time the women began telling their own stories to each other. Elizabeth was all ears as she listened intently to the various tales being related.

Two of the women convicts, Elizabeth Herbert and Mary Dykes, began the conversations with their recalling of events that led them into the situation they now found themselves entrapped in.

It all started with a drink of Gin in a pub, Elizabeth Herbert began with a wry smile on her weather beaten face. The poor bloody publican was more than a bit tipsy but he agreed to go home with me, when he got there he got cold feet and said he wanted to leave, he then gave me six pence to buy myself a drink but before he left Mary arrived and invited him into another room and he followed her.

Mary then chipped in, Yeah, I asked him for a guinea, to buy porter, she said, but he told me we had to show him some change of a guinea before he handed over any money. I then started undressing and began unbuttoning his breeches, when he became suspicious. I think he must have been a slow thinker, she said with half a smile on her face, that drew raucous laughter from her attentive audience.

You know what? She then exclaimed, he then got up and ran out of the house altogether, and headed for the river leaving me and Liz in the house all by ourselves. This brought on a storm of laughter again from all those listening. Elizabeth Herbert then finished the story by adding, Too right he did, ran like a scared rabbit he did, but the lying old bugger told the court we stole the guinea from him and you know what more? The bloody judge believed him and here we are. The listeners booed loudly.

Tamasin Allen, who sometimes called herself Tamasin Boddington, then took the floor. Tamasin was 32 years of age but was blessed with a rather stunning appearance,

We was damn well sunk by a drunk, the pretty woman began, my friend Mary Allen first met this bloke in Chick’s Lane, he was drunk and staggering around at the time, so she said she reached for his arm to steady his movement and to stop him falling onto the road but in his delirium he started yelling out that he was being robbed at the top of his voice. So she let him be and went to the Marquis of Ganby pub to meet some of her friends.

You wouldn't believe it, but a few minutes later the same man who Mary was telling us about came into the pub assisted by a friend of ours, Humphrey Moore. I helped Humph take the drunk man’s coat off him so he could sit down and be more comfortable. I then went and sat with my friends who included, Mary Dykes, Ann Reid, Mary Finn and Jane Langley.

As she called out the various names voices in the listening crowd called out, ‘here,’ as they acknowledged their presence in the pub with her at the same time, all now fellow convicts found guilty of the same offence on the same day.

She continued calling out some more names and then said;

It turned out he was a pretty rich bugger and loaded with jewels, watches and God knows what else. He told the court we stole the lot from his coat and left him with empty pockets which he didn’t noticed till he got home.

The court believed the drunk, and here we all are, she concluded.

Mary Pile was next, she was known by most women convicts as the ‘lady highwayman,’ who always worked alone. All listened intently to what she had to tell them.

I got me self dressed up till I looked like a young man, she started. Then went to the ‘Plough’ at Mile End. I ordered a porter and some bread and cheese and asked the owner if he had a room available where I could stay the night. I knew this pub liked stacking em in so I expected he would put me in with a bloke, and he put me in with a sailor. I paid me sixpence for the lodgings and waited till the sailor went to bed before I went up. He was fast asleep when I went into the room but he started to stir when I got near him so I asked him to hand over the pot. This happened three times during the night and he finished up getting rather upset about things.

What the bloody hell’s making you piss all the bloody time? he angrily yelled at me, I then went back to bed again but got up around five in the morning and left before anybody else woke, she then took a deep breath before adding, when the sailor woke he told everyone that I had cleaned out his pockets during the night. Took me four bloody goes though, the bloody light sleeper he was, she finished up commenting, that brought much merriment from her curious convict audience.

Ann Smith, who was one of the oldest convicts on board the ship, told them she was a nurse before being sentenced to seven years transportation.

I didn’t really know for sure what I did wrong until I got to court, she said.

I had been drinking a bit and went to visit Mr Dodson in Bishopsgate Street, I remember it being a nice warm summers day, she explained thoughtfully. I went to buy a pot of cider and apparently took the pot with me when I left... I think. Mr. Dodson told the court that the missing pot was reported to him to be in the possession of Walter Prosser and when he found Prosser, he told him it was given to him by John Green. Green told him he found several pots beneath an old coloured apron in a market basket that the baker, George Pontin, found me with while I was lying on the grass sound asleep in the sun beneath a sign that read, ‘The White Horse.’ He told the court that I had my arm around the basket that was covered with a cloak. Nobody told the court how the pot got from John Green to Walter Prosser. But it looked like I finished up with it so they charged me with stealing it. I still don’t know what really happened, but here I am, she sorrowfully added.

She then finished her story by saying, I do remember what that bloody judge told me when he sentenced me though.

Her audience called out in unison, tell us, tell us, tell us!

Only too happy to oblige, Ann angrily yelled so all could clearly hear, using an exaggerated cultured tone while at the same time deepening her voice to sound more like that of a judge:

The practice of stealing pots is grown to an extent, and publicans sustain very heavy losses. I have therefore long thought it would be right to set some example of severity in the punishment in order to deter others from going on at that rate, and there cannot be a better time to set that example than when we have an old offender before us. Therefore the sentence of the Court upon you is that you be transported for seven years.

All the women broke out booing loudly.

Another older convict then asked if she could be heard, yes, yes, they all called out.

"I’m Jane Creek, I’m 47 years old and I worked as a chairwoman stuffing upholstery. I remember working on a chair when I got a terrible headache. I told the housekeeper that I wasn’t