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Extended Work
Edward's Famous Grandmother - Scoundrel to Saint - Chapter 7
By jean.day
07 December 2007
 
March 15, 1863

I have not had time nor patience to continue with my book. I sometimes feel so frustrated because I want to get on with it, but don’t know how. And all the time at the back of my mind is the fact that we sent back Mr. Wakefield’s last letter to Pa. I can continue with his letters, and my guesses as to what Pa probably said, but I can’t tell the whole of Edward Gibbon Wakefield’s story, because I won’t know what happened after Pa died and the letters stopped coming. I don’t even know how to go about finding out.

I’m feeling rather negative about this whole project at the moment. I don’t know what Pa said to Mr. Wakefield before he sent this letter. And I don’t even feel like making anything up.

“July 5, 1828
Newgate Prison

Dear Daniel

I continue with my writing, and feel that it is of value. I thought perhaps I would mention a bit more to you about the prisoners whom I have befriended.

I recently wrote an article which was published in the Quarterly Review. In it I told the account of a young prisoner who had been condemned to death. The youth had escaped the turnkeys and had climbed up a pipe in the hope of escaping, but had fallen onto the pavement below, seriously injuring his legs. The surgeon dressed those legs with the same care and attention as if the boy were going to live to a ripe old age. It was as if his surgical care could preserve the use of those limbs for years. But of course, it didn’t work like that. He was carried to the scaffold. And blood flowed from those wounds evoking pity from the onlookers, one of whom said they would like to see the Home Secretary treated in the same way.

Unfortunately, the Review did not see this incident from my point of view, and felt that I was grossly misrepresenting it. The editor even missed the irony of the situation. He claimed that it would have been inhumane not to have treated the convict, and he said he couldn’t see how this incident had anything whatsoever to do with capitol punishment.

So I had to write again, this time talking about how social conditions lead to the punishment of young children also confined in Newgate, mostly boys who then are frequently seduced and exploited by the ‘Fagins’ of the metropolis.

But I must change the subject as I get so angry about it all, and I know that it is not your fault and there is nothing you can do to change it.

Perhaps this would be an appropriate time to tell you more about my grandmother. She was born Priscilla Bell in 1751, the daughter of Daniel Bell of Stamford Hill, a coal merchant, and Catherine Barclay. Originally her family had come from Westmorland near Kendal. She was a great granddaughter of Robert Barclay who wrote Quaker Apology in 1676.

Priscilla has written many educational books for children, six I think it is, mainly to help support our family as her husband, Edward Wakefield, had many financial misfortunes. In fact, due to his mishandling of money, she felt it necessary to found the first frugality bank in England, at Ship Inn Yard in Tottenham. Up til then there was no place for poor people to borrow money.

Is it any wonder that I am so interested in writing, having her for a grandmother? She was active in bringing up all her grandchildren, including me, but she also at the same time pioneered a lying-in charity, and an industrial school as well as the frugality bank and all her writing.

Of one such grandchild, my sister Catharine who is called Kitty, she said, “That child requires the judicious attention and time of one person and I find I can get very little done except attending to Kitty whose mind is so much expanded that all my time might be well bestowed on its cultivation.” Another time she said, "My dear Catherine's great inattention and want of docility make but slow progress".

For a period in 1812 she was a patient in Whitmore House a private assylum. She told us that her keeperess, “dragged her by the hair and beat her head repeatedly against the wall, and then tying her legs, flogged her as children are flogged at school, in the presence of half a dozen monsters in the shape of men.”

After this, her son, (my father) visited madhouses throughout the country and promoted the idea which was first suggested to him by William Hone of a London Asylum. His proposal was that there should be an accommodation for 400 patients, which would have separate accommodations for patients of "superior rank in life" but unfortunately, it would cost about £100,000. He suggested raising this by having shares of £100 each with no one allowed more than 20 shares.

To publicise the scheme, my father commissioned C. Arnold to make a drawing of William Norris, a dangerous lunatic confined in irons in Bethlem Hospital. I have heard this described as the most influential picture in the history of English mental health. It was etched by George Cruickshank and sold in William Hone's shop, as well as being shown to the Select Committee of the House of Commons on Madhouses in 1815.

He told them that his work as a land agent took him to various parts of the country, and that he made a point, at each place he visited, of asking to see the gaols, Bridewells and madhouses in the vicinity. At one, Miles’ house in Hoxton he had been refused admission, a keeper telling him that 'an inspection of that house would be signing my death-warrant'.

At Gore House in Kensington, he was also refused admission. At Thomas Munro’s House at Hackney, he was told by the physician of Bethlem that he was welcome to visit - if he could secure the consent of the relatives of every patient; and he was refused a list of names of the patients.

There were a few private madhouses in which conditions were good, as far as he could tell. At Talfourd’s house in Fulham there were fourteen ladies who appeared to be treated with the greatest kindness. They went to the local church, and were allowed out for walks - Father met two who had just 'walked to Walham Green to see Louis 18." London House in Hackney also appeared to be excellently conducted. There, he told us, "One lady, who conceives herself to be Mary, Queen of Scots, acts as preceptress to Mrs Fox's little children, and takes great pains in teaching them French.”

Surprisingly, he spoke favourably on Whitmore House where my grandmother was so abused the year before. He spoke of the advantages enjoyed by patients at Whitmore, where there were "very large gardens; some of the patients pay rather liberally; and in these gardens are many small distinct houses; the great enjoyment which a patient who had the means of paying for it, received from living in a small house, surrounded by a garden, without the noise, or the annoyance of violent patients around him, He was impressed "by the general comfort and cleanliness of the house", which at the time of his visit housed some eighty patients. "The house stands in the midst of very fine gardens to the extent of five acres, and such of the patients who can enjoy it when convalescent, are allowed to amuse themselves by keeping fowls or rabbits, or cultivating a small piece of garden ground".

I fear my writing has yet again gone on too long and I will be boring you. But I do want to say again how pleased I am to have you for a friend and correspondent.

Yours faithfully,

Edward Gibbon”
 

Reviews

Written by Fledermaus (3470 comments posted) 7th December 2007
You certainly have a talent not only for doing research into what you want to write, but moreover to make believable characters through letters. 
Madhouses... Wasn't it the sheer horror of them which caused Jonathan Swift to write AND to invest in a more humane treatment (He had his oddities and from what I heard he was terribly afraid to end up in such a place himself). Seems the reform was going ahead during the period you describe here (and still going on). 
 
How do you know what are reasonable prices in that age btw? I admire your knowledge of the 19th century!

Written by Phil (6951 comments posted) 8th December 2007
Hi Jean. 
 
I hope that preamble doesn't reflect your motivation in for writing this as you seem to be doing a good job to me. The flavour of the time given in the letter is good and reveals more about Edward's wider interests - rather at odds with his earlier actions! 
 
What struck me while I was reading was how you are going to weave in more personal attachment for the characters. Difficult with one way letters - but I'm sure you have something in mind though. 
 
Look forward to the next piece. 
 
Phil 
 
Thanks Fledermaus and Phil
Written by jean.day (2359 comments posted) 8th December 2007
Yes, I often feel like Margaret was feeling in the preamble - as so often the effort seems to be so great for the end result. The trouble with writing a book is that it never seems to be done - it takes ages, and occupies your brain when sometimes you wish you could think about something else for awhile.  
 
Fledermaus, my best resource for this book is an historical book called the Shrigley Abduction. Nearly every line is referenced - so I have no doubt that her monetary values were correct. It did seem like a lot of money to me for that period of time.  
 
Phil, when I write about a character, I become so involved in their story that I form a personal attachment to them. This Edward character is not the sort of man I normally would get involved with - he had enormous self confidence, and nearly everything he did, in the end became of value to society - except for the abduction of course. But I think there was a vulnerable side to him too, which I am trying to portray by his wanting to know all there was to know about his victim.

Written by Lizzy (827 comments posted) 12th December 2007
This is an interesting way of filling in the history of the time without it appearing to be a history lesson. The bits of Edwards family history you are gradually introducing are all helping to make him a much more rounded character. 
I also felt that there was a lot of you in that first paragraph. 
Lizzy

Written by bluecity (432 comments posted) 12th December 2007
This chapter began so promisingly, by telling us about Margaret, but then we got into all this history. I think you have a conflict here, Jean. There is a magnificent historian begging to be set free. David Starkey, watch out! 
 
On to the next chapter! 
 
Rosemary

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