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 looks 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!