Part 6 (2/2)
Despite her best efforts, calling upon both maternal instincts and nursing skills, seven more children died before the Christmas holiday. By January, the warm weather that arrived at summer's peak seemed to slow the spread of illness inside the house Ludlow shared with her young charges and their mothers. The Liverpool Street nursery seemed ever more distant from the Keppel Street quarters she had left just one year ago.
Arrivals and Departures.
For a year and a half, Ludlow toiled in the nursery alongside head midwife and deputy matron Elizabeth Cato. By now, Ludlow's Hindostan Hindostan friend Ann Price had completed her punishment in the wash yard and was also a.s.signed to Liverpool Street. At least once a month, and when they were granted extra visits for model behavior, together the two mothers walked the hilly four miles from Cascades to New Town for Sunday visits with their daughters. friend Ann Price had completed her punishment in the wash yard and was also a.s.signed to Liverpool Street. At least once a month, and when they were granted extra visits for model behavior, together the two mothers walked the hilly four miles from Cascades to New Town for Sunday visits with their daughters.
The women's routine changed abruptly on a foggy autumn morning in April 1841, when Mrs. Cato failed to appear at morning muster. Typically she met Ludlow and Ann immediately after breakfast and issued daily orders for nursery duty. The night before, however, Police Magistrate John Price arrested both of the Catos and charged them with trafficking. During the initial phase of his investigation, Mr. Price confronted the overseer and his wife with the news that he'd seen a letter written by a prisoner, Ellen Watkins, ”in which she requests certain articles be sent under cover to Mrs. Cato for her, here accompanied by a fowl for the use of Mrs. Cato.”36 When he requested the Catos turn over both the letter and the chicken, Mrs. Cato responded that ”the contents of the letter was too horrible and indecent and that she had thought fit to burn it.” When he requested the Catos turn over both the letter and the chicken, Mrs. Cato responded that ”the contents of the letter was too horrible and indecent and that she had thought fit to burn it.”37 Having read the letter himself, Magistrate Price countered her a.s.sertion, later noting in his report to Superintendent Josiah Spode: ”I must here remark that not an indecent allusion was introduced into that letter.” Having read the letter himself, Magistrate Price countered her a.s.sertion, later noting in his report to Superintendent Josiah Spode: ”I must here remark that not an indecent allusion was introduced into that letter.”38 But the excuses were quick and well prepared when Price inquired about the messenger bird. Yes, they were given the fowl for reasons unknown, and ”it was a pity it should stink and so I had it plucked.” But the excuses were quick and well prepared when Price inquired about the messenger bird. Yes, they were given the fowl for reasons unknown, and ”it was a pity it should stink and so I had it plucked.”39 The two senior officials had contrived a scheme wherein convicts were allowed messages from outside the prison if delivered to Mrs. Cato along with a chicken. It was just the tip of a pervasive and thriving underground economy at Cascades. This relatively small extortion delivered notes between the female prisoners and their paramours in Hobart Town, providing many chickens for the Catos. The overseers and the deputy matron either ate the fowl or traded them for other items available via the illicit marketplace.
For years, the local government ignored the corruption inside Cascades as well as the abuse of prisoners who were mismanaged and mistreated. Word of inhumane conditions reached England and prompted Elizabeth Fry to beg for intervention. Four long years pa.s.sed before Lady Jane responded to Mrs. Fry's impa.s.sioned plea for an investigation into conditions at the Female Factory. In July 1841, shortly after the Catos' indictment, Elizabeth's emissary Miss Kezia Hayter arrived on the Rajah Rajah and presented Lady Jane with a quilt made by the convict women aboard s.h.i.+p. An embroidered inscription on the fabric rendered it impossible to ignore Fry's mission: and presented Lady Jane with a quilt made by the convict women aboard s.h.i.+p. An embroidered inscription on the fabric rendered it impossible to ignore Fry's mission: TO THE LADIES.
of the Convict s.h.i.+p Committee This quilt worked by the Convicts of the s.h.i.+p Rajah during their voyage to Van Diemans [sic] Land is presented as a testimony of the grat.i.tude with which they remember their exertions for their welfare while in England and during their pa.s.sage and also as a proof that they have not neglected the Ladies kind admonitions of being industrious June 184140.
On August 3, 1841, Lady Jane penned a note to Fry, offering an excuse for failing to write sooner: ”I had little to tell you respecting the conditions of the female prisoners population here, which . . . would give you any satisfaction to hear, and I shrank from the painful task of being the reporter of evil, and of confessing how little I had personally done. . . .”41 The word ”evil” was applied liberally to descriptions of the girls and women exiled ”beyond the seas.” The Courier Courier announced the arrival of the announced the arrival of the Rajah Rajah in the paper's local news section with this warning: in the paper's local news section with this warning: The female prisoners brought out in this s.h.i.+p appear to be of much better character than usual; their behavior during the voyage was very good, doubtless in a great degree the result of the indefatigable care which appears to have been exercised both with reference to their morality and physical comfort. The Lieutenant-Governor most judiciously afforded every facility to the inhabitants who had applied for servants, to obtain them direct from the s.h.i.+p; this is a most desirable arrangement, for even an hour's contamination in that receptacle of wickedness, the Factory may prove of lasting evil to the unfortunate creatures who once enter it.42 Although the Catos were dismissed from Cascades for their transgressions, there was nowhere to send the increasingly rowdy members of the Flash Mob. The more they were punished, the more unruly and outrageous their rebellion. Five months before Ludlow's arrival, the infamous Ellen Scott was charged with ”violently a.s.saulting Mr. Hutchinson with intent to kill or do him some bodily harm.”43 The women at the factory realized they had nothing left to lose as their treatment worsened, and the Mob escalated from simple defiance into all-out war. The women at the factory realized they had nothing left to lose as their treatment worsened, and the Mob escalated from simple defiance into all-out war.
Among those involved in the May 6, 1839, riot was Ann Maloney, the Londoner who had left behind a penny for her loved one W. F., engraved with two hearts and two doves. Fourteen years into her life sentence for larceny in a boardinghouse, Ann turned bitter and ornery, her optimism long departed from the days she inscribed the love token inside Newgate Prison. A year after being admitted to Cascades, she attempted escape with a friend named Martha Griffith. While scaling the prison wall, Ann broke her leg, and the constable sentenced both girls to bread and water in solitary confinement. In 1829, Ann had married and was remanded to her husband's oversight for the remainder of her sentence, an escape clause for female convicts. But when the couple was caught running a brothel in Hobart Town, she was returned to Cascades and the company of her Flash Mob mates.
Malnourished, neglected, and increasingly angry women were packed tight behind the stone walls. Seething frustration toward hypocrites like the Reverend Bedford, controller and abuser of many, fueled the Mob's fury. Five others partic.i.p.ated in the insurrection directed toward the often-tired, paper-pus.h.i.+ng superintendent. Each was charged with insubordination for ”forcibly, violently and in a turbulent manner resisting Mr. Hutchinson and refusing to obey his lawful commands.”44 He immediately sentenced Ann Maloney to twelve months at the washtubs and sent Ellen Scott to Launceston for two years' hard labor. He immediately sentenced Ann Maloney to twelve months at the washtubs and sent Ellen Scott to Launceston for two years' hard labor.
The Hobart Town newspapers printed in-depth stories about the Mob's escapades and included more details in the police report section. In an article about Ellen Scott and her conspirators, the Colonial Times Colonial Times wrote: wrote: We have appended to the t.i.tle of this article, the term ”Flash Mob;” that this term is technical, is sufficiently obvious; but few of our readers,-few, indeed, of any who possess the ordinary attributes of human nature, can even conjecture the frightful abominations, which are practised by the women, who compose this mob. Of course, we cannot pollute our columns with the disgusting details, which have been conveyed to us; but we may, with propriety, call the notice of the proper Functionaries to a system of vice, immorality, and iniquity, which has tended, mainly, to render the majority of female a.s.signed servants, the annoying and untractable animals, that they are.45 Despite these declarations of condemnation, the Colonial Times Colonial Times filled many columns with tasty tidbits about the women so often deemed unworthy of its time and attention. Ellen Scott was not alone in providing fodder for gossipmongers. Whisperers were all about town in the shops, gardens, and pubs. filled many columns with tasty tidbits about the women so often deemed unworthy of its time and attention. Ellen Scott was not alone in providing fodder for gossipmongers. Whisperers were all about town in the shops, gardens, and pubs.
After the departure of the Female Factory's dark heroine, a new cast of colorful characters emerged more vibrant than ever from this theater of unimaginable horrors. Each player took an unspoken oath to torment her captors and stand by her sisters. Like Ellen Scott, Catherine Henrys reached legendary status inside Cascades and across Van Die-men's Land. Twenty-nine, with deep pockmarks across her face, she was transported from Ireland in 1836, the same year as Agnes. She quickly became a master of ingenious escapes, like tunneling her way out of solitary confinement with a sharpened spoon, and using tied blanket strips to scale the stone walls. Tall for her time at five feet, six inches, Catherine sported two tattoos on her right arm and was nicknamed ”Jemmy the Rover.” During one escapade in 1841, she put on men's trousers, tucked her hair under a boy's cap, and headed into the bush to work as a timber cutter. Before her return to the Female Factory she lived free for a year, chopping down trees with Samuel Dobbs, a freed convict whom she would later marry.46 The Flash Mob tended to attract the conspicuously rowdy, but someone literate like Ludlow Tedder would be highly prized for her skills. Her ability to write and deliver messages during her regular pilgrimage from Liverpool Street to Cascades undoubtedly a.s.sisted love affairs and contraband smuggling. Such a proper matron was ideal to convey colored scarves and gaudy jewelry for the rebels with a sense of humor and a cause at Cascades.
Ludlow quickly figured out the survival maze inside the prison and how things really worked for those on both sides of the walls. Her regular trek up and down the valley afforded plenty of time to hatch a plan for Arabella's return. For today, it was August 1841 and all of Ludlow's attention was focused on a lovely Scottish redhead and a new baby boy who had been born at the Female Factory. The mother was called Janet Houston, and she had named her son William.47
8.
The Yellow C The Valley of Sorrow.
Cradling little William Houston against her grey duffel s.h.i.+ft and smiling with contentment, Janet watched her new son grow stronger by the day. It was the end of August 1841. The sun was setting later now, and soon the winds of spring would bring the island back to life. Outside, the temperature drifted toward the fifties, ending a mercifully mild winter. Certainly it was nothing like the freezing nights she'd spent on Goosedubbs Street with Agnes. Still, occasional Antarctic winds blasted and shook the windowpanes facing the front of Liverpool Street. For good measure, Janet sat right next to the warm kitchen stove. Nurse Tedder smiled and offered the new mother a large slice of bread and a cup of tea with sugar, making certain the breast-feeding mothers received their full share of the rations delivered from the cook at Cascades.
The month before, on July 22, Janet had turned twenty-two and on her birthday carried a present, kicking and turning within her swollen belly. She tried to hide her pregnancy, but when she approached full term, doubt no longer lingered about her condition. On August 2, a policeman delivered the winsome Scot to the Factory, ”being advanced in pregnancy.”1 Janet held her middle and ambled back to her cell after Reverend Bedford's evening rant. Above the yard, in the clear black sky, a full moon hung suspended. Janet held her middle and ambled back to her cell after Reverend Bedford's evening rant. Above the yard, in the clear black sky, a full moon hung suspended.
A few days later, the redheaded la.s.s went into labor and delivered her ”currency lad,” as the son of a convict was called. Currency lads and la.s.ses were so named because they were viewed as a product, unlike the ”sterling” born to free settlers. As soon as the young mother was able to walk, she and her newborn were sent down the valley to Liverpool Street, where today she stared into the eyes of her little infant. Janet had been born the same year as Nurse Ludlow's dear departed daughter Frances, who pa.s.sed away at age seven and lay buried in a tiny plot a world away.
The motherly Mrs. Tedder immediately developed a deep affection for the soft-spoken new mother, with her enchanting Scottish brogue and rather wicked sense of humor. Ludlow felt both relieved and gratified to see an infant thrive, especially because she had seen so many perish. Since her first day in the nursery two years before, twenty-four children from Liverpool Street had been hastily laid to rest in St. David's Cemetery near the harbor.
Inside the tiny house where she worked six days a week and often Sundays, Widow Tedder learned many truths about the girls and women who were returned to the Female Factory for what Reverend Bedford proclaimed the sin of adultery. At this time, the adulterer label was attached to every unmarried convict mother, regardless of her circ.u.mstances. Many were the victims of rape by a master, a male servant, or a settler. Others carried the child of a lover or common-law husband. Reason mattered not. In the eyes of the Crown, they were all sinners relegated to the same punishment.
Superintendent of Convicts Josiah Spode argued for placing the prisoners in local homes, where, he surmised, the ”proper” citizenry would provide role models ”both in a moral point of view and in teaching them those useful habits of domestic life.”2 For many among the transported women, a.s.signment to settlers yielded the opposite effect, rendering them angrier and more rebellious as their sentences unfolded. For many among the transported women, a.s.signment to settlers yielded the opposite effect, rendering them angrier and more rebellious as their sentences unfolded.
Most reports of abuse were promptly swept under the rug. Yet the abuse became so widespread that eventually the Crown reluctantly agreed to an Inquiry into Female Convict Prison Discipline, which commenced in 1841. The investigation revealed that recourse for s.e.xual a.s.sault was nearly impossible, though a few desperately sought justice after being attacked in their master's care. Grace Heinbury was twenty-six when she arrived in Van Diemen's Land on the convict s.h.i.+p Atwick Atwick, which anch.o.r.ed on January 24, 1838. The black-haired nursery maid with the dark hazel eyes reported rather matter-of-factly to the committee the horror that soon befell her. During one a.s.signment, she was raped by a man whose wife had unwittingly selected her for their servant. After she reported the attack to the authorities in Hobart Town, the police did nothing. Superintendent Hutchinson promptly a.s.signed her to another household, where she was again a.s.saulted, this time by several male servants. With no recourse via the police to end her abuse, Grace walked off the job. She was punished with six months' hard labor for leaving her a.s.signment, but accepted it as a fair trade.3 Absconding seemed a reasonable choice. Temporary refuge could usually be found in the safe houses and grog shops tucked into the back alleys and shady streets around Hobart Town. Absconding seemed a reasonable choice. Temporary refuge could usually be found in the safe houses and grog shops tucked into the back alleys and shady streets around Hobart Town.
In caring for the mothers and infants housed on Liverpool Street, Ludlow began to understand the terrible secrets kept by the figures she had first viewed in Yard One two years before. Young women confided in the well-spoken nurse with the soft hazel eyes, who reminded them of their mothers back in Britain. Even if a convict mother wanted to love the child conceived by rape from a master or a male servant, the Female Factory ”Rules and Regulations” stifled this natural inclination at every opportunity. The unnatural separation of mother and child caused some to give up entirely, as they sank toward emotional numbness.
A disreputable master could commit the perfect crime with any female under his charge: There were no witnesses and virtually no one to believe the hysterical tale told by a convict maid. There was no way to win. If she ended up pregnant, she was charged an adulterer. Once weaned, her child was taken away and she began a sentence of hard labor in the Crime Cla.s.s. Police Magistrate John Price admitted that many masters were ”totally unfit to be entrusted” with the indentured women ”from a perfect disregard to the morality of their female servants.”4 After her sixth return to Crime Cla.s.s for misconduct in 1840, Janet avoided attention until she was found pregnant and living with a free man, the suspected father of dear William. When she reported back to the factory on August 2, 1841, Janet knew the punishment she faced. Along with her newborn arrived a sentence of a year's hard labor, six months for ”living in a state of adultery with a free man” and an additional six for ”being advanced in pregnancy.”
The colony's government absolved itself of responsibility for the rising number of unmarried mothers at the Female Factory by making it a crime to give birth to an illegitimate child. Superintendent of Convicts Josiah Spode believed ”the regulation was 'the best check . . . of immorality' and that it would 'restrain the promiscuous intercourse of these depraved women.'”5 His reasoning backfired exponentially. As the number of female transports rose, so, too, did pregnancies among the women, most in their twenties and thirties. His reasoning backfired exponentially. As the number of female transports rose, so, too, did pregnancies among the women, most in their twenties and thirties.
In some cases, a colonist used the system to free a sweetheart from Cascades, requesting her a.s.signment and then setting up household together. Fathers wis.h.i.+ng to marry the mother of their child were sometimes denied permission. The lieutenant governor was required to review all marriage requests from 1829 to 1857. If both parties couldn't prove they were legally single and not married to someone else, or failed to pay the exorbitant application fees, their request was denied.6 Female Factory Superintendent Hutchinson's approval was also required, according to the rules and regulations, which stated: ”No Female will be allowed to marry from the 2d. or 3d. Cla.s.ses, nor, indeed, from the 1st., unless she can obtain a favourable certificate from the Princ.i.p.al Superintendent.” Female Factory Superintendent Hutchinson's approval was also required, according to the rules and regulations, which stated: ”No Female will be allowed to marry from the 2d. or 3d. Cla.s.ses, nor, indeed, from the 1st., unless she can obtain a favourable certificate from the Princ.i.p.al Superintendent.”7 Adding insult to injury, the Reverend Bedford also held veto over betrothed couples. Fancying himself the moral magistrate for Hobart Town, Holy Willie refused to wed convicts who had been married to someone left behind in Britain. It made no difference that there was virtually no chance of ever seeing their first husbands again. Many spouses left behind were already remarried or cohabiting with another woman. Although some preachers applied common sense in such decisions, the ever-unyielding Bedford, himself a well-known adulterer, often refused to marry transported women and men who desired a fresh start.
If not wed to the child's mother, fathers in Van Diemen's Land bore neither blame nor responsibility. The Hobart Town coroner deplored ”the fact that unmarried female convicts who became pregnant were punished 'whilst the Father of the child whether he be the Seducer, or paramour, is rarely if ever punished.'”8 Despite this double standard, Janet discovered a silver lining when she returned to the Female Factory and especially to Liverpool Street. Shortly after giving birth to baby William at the Cascades infirmary, a stern matron named Mrs. Slea ushered her down the valley to the lying-in room at the nursery. Pa.s.sing the tiny kitchen on the first floor, Janet spotted a familiar frame standing with her back turned and scrubbing a giant stack of pots. It was a sputtering Agnes, clanging the pans and silverware as the greying water sloshed over her feet and onto the floor. It was the last place Janet expected to see her friend.
Looking forward to the spring in 1841, Janet had much to celebrate. Only a few weeks old, William was already thriving in her loving arms. Kindly Mrs. Tedder offered her valuable guidance on caring for her newborn. Celebrating this happy event with her dear Agnes was b.l.o.o.d.y good luck indeed, especially because they hadn't seen each other for nearly three years.
The last time had been in summer's heat, shortly before Christmas 1838, when Agnes stood ankle-deep in water hunched over a stone washtub in Yard Two. Janet had returned to Cascades for her fifth offense, one fewer than the feisty Agnes. The slightly less rambunctious of the two, Janet was a.s.signed to the Reverend W. Orton after twice disobeying her first mistress. The incident started on November 4, when the reverend reported his convict maid absent without leave overnight. She got away with only a reprimand, but ten days later she again walked off the job. This time a constable found her in a ”disorderly house,” a rowdy tavern specializing in strong liquor, gambling, and prost.i.tution. This offense sent Janet back to the prison for a month, picking oak.u.m in solitary confinement.
For the first six days, Overseer Cato pa.s.sed only bread and water through the grates in her cell door. Upon completion of this latest discipline, Mr. Hutchinson a.s.signed Janet to a different settler. By now, it had become a bit of a game to return to Cascades from a dangerous or dreary placement as quickly as possible. Janet's next position lasted only six days.
Indifferent to the punishment awaiting her, Janet strutted back to the Female Factory that December 20, 1838, where an auspicious surprise awaited her. Agnes, too, had returned to the valley to serve two months at the washtubs for being absent without leave. The two celebrated Hogmanay together as they brought in the new year in 1839. Their reunion was bittersweet because each would be sent her separate way. It would be nearly three years before their paths crossed again, although each returned to the Female Factory at different times. Sent out on four more country a.s.signments, Agnes managed to run away from each. Her fate, however, took a turn for the better when, in 1840, Superintendent Hutchinson dispatched her to the most remote location he could find. While working in Oatlands, located in the middle of nowhere, the twenty-year-old met a das.h.i.+ng older man who captured her heart.
Her most recent spate of trouble involved insolence toward her master. The superintendent had run out of a.s.signment options for the indomitable #253, who was about to turn twenty-one. She'd been sent to work all over Van Diemen's Land, from Richmond fifteen miles north of Hobart Town to the remote Oatlands. Agnes always managed to run away from her master, no matter how distant or isolated the a.s.signment, so a frustrated Hutchinson returned the untamable Scot to a place he could monitor. His wife, as matron, was required to inspect the nursery every day.
Because Agnes had experience as a governess for Mr. Harvey, she was well suited to work at Liverpool Street, although most prisoners who weren't mothers considered it an undesirable a.s.signment. Babies wailed day and night, the stench of diarrhea and vomit invaded every corner, and mothers fought for private s.p.a.ce where there was none. The cramped little house was staffed primarily by convict mothers still nursing their infants. In addition to nursing their own child, they also cared for children separated from their mothers and housed in the nursery until transfer to the Queen's Orphanage at age two or three. Agnes's heavy responsibility inside Liverpool Street lightened considerably when she heard Janet's Scottish brogue echo through the front entryway.
The two mates, fully blossomed into womanhood, still found unadulterated joy in recounting the girlish escapades they'd shared. Agnes had picked up a completely new repertoire of rebellious tunes about the regrets and the dreams of a convict maid: I toil each day in greaf [sic] and pain And sleepless through the night remain My constant toils are unrepaid And wretched is the Convict Maid
Oh could I but once more be free I'd never again a captive be But I would seek some honest trade And never again be a Convict Maid9.
Sitting inside the Liverpool Street nursery, Agnes excitedly confided in the loyal chum she considered a sister. They'd managed to survive the first five years of their transport sentence, suffering neither the illnesses nor alcoholism afflicting so many at Cascades. Picking up exactly where they'd left off, the two mates laughed, cursed, and cried through the stories and adventures they hadn't been able to share. As Agnes took a turn cuddling William after her kitchen s.h.i.+ft ended, they dared to dream about the promise of their freedom in 1843. Knowing instinctively that this might be their last time together, Agnes and Janet filled the present with recollections from their past. Together, they stayed out of trouble, or at least weren't caught by Mr. Hutchinson.
All went smoothly at Liverpool Street save the death of one toddler in September 1841. The climate remained relatively mild after a freak snowstorm on September 13. By October, spring unfolded its arms in earnest as the days grew longer and temperatures climbed into the sixties. Janet, William, and Agnes spent the next few months together under Ludlow's watchful eye. The two young women felt like girls again, and their exuberance lifted the spirits of everyone in the nursery. It was going to be a b.l.o.o.d.y good Christmas-and baby William's first. Agnes could sing the little lad a right fine version of ”Auld Lang Syne.” The weather was clear and a balmy seventy degrees for the Scots' Hogmanay toast in 1842. With pubs located around the corner from the nursery, spirits easily found their way into the dilapidated kitchen.
As they headed through the warm January summer, Janet could not hold back the dreadful future that lay ahead. Forced to wean William in early February, precisely six months from the day he was born, Janet at first refused to leave the nursery. With the onset of six months' hard labor for the crime of unwed pregnancy, she'd be allowed to visit her infant son only once a week. Ludlow tried t
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