Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
An Impossible Wish
Between heart-wrenching sobs, Mary poured out what had been troubling her since Abby’s birth. The baby had not been christened! If she died, she would be denied Paradise! Ann tried to calm her and asked why not have her christened at once? Mary, crying and sobbing explained that she had been to the parish church, St. Andrew by-the-Wardrobe near Puddle Wharf and spoken to the Rector, pleaded her poverty. and he was willing to do the whole service for two shillings eight.
“Well that’s fine,” said Ann, feeling sympathy for her friend's concern. “Ye surely have that much saved and I be able to pitch a little.”
“Ye are a true friend, too kind and too generous by half. But me savings is most piteous. And the Parish ain’t the whole problem. A wee babe just mustn’t be presented before God without a fine, proper christening dress. I’s checked the shops and the least dear proper dress would call for five Bob!”
Ann tried to argue that a dress wasn’t that important, but Mary wouldn’t be moved. Her parents had always said so, so it must be true! After an hour, she gave up and let Mary cry as she went back to her sewing. Then it came to her!
“Mary! I’s got the grandest idea! I’m gotten ever so good at this sewing. I’ll sew up a proper dress for little Abby!” Mary stared open-mouthed. “Deed I could! If you just gets the fabric, I’ll sew up a dandy dress for the babe!”
Mary was overwhelmed with gratitude, hugging and kissing Ann for all she was worth. Then she hesitated a moment. “What would them’s shops want for the material?”
“Not much over a Bob, I think. Never be more than one and six! You just keep saving up. I can help with a few pence of a loan if you ever needs it.”
Mary smiled at her friend’s goodwill and generosity. But a shilling seemed unreachable. She didn’t want to hurt Ann’s enthusiasm, so she asked, “Where’d we buy such fabric?”
“Oh, Lordy, there are ever so many fabric shops up on Ludgate Street, west of the Cathedral. By mid-month they lay in new goods, so they usually offer some reduced in the next week. Wednesday, the 7th, I’s got no plans. Us two’ll go up there and shop around like fine ladies. It’ll be grand!”
Mary said nothing to discourage her friend’s joy. She resolved that she would try harder tomorrow to raise money.
However, the next day was her worst for a long while. The people on the street were getting to know her and tire of constant begging. Some of the young, topping men would even cuff her ears and tell her to go back to her brothel with her bastard baby. Others would no longer pay for a tit feel and insisted in real sex, which she would not -she could not - consent to. That day and the next, she brought so little home that she gave it all to Ann. By the time Tuesday evening came around she had two-shilling nine, not enough for the christening and the fabric. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Ann and just went along with the plans for a stroll to Ludgate Hill the next morning.
An Awful Decision
All night Mary tossed and turned, worrying about the next day shopping. She simply didn’t have enough money for the christening. She couldn’t keep postponing it. Just yesterday, little Abby had a small cough. Children could be snatched away so quickly! Her mind raced feverishly.
But she only had a few pennies to buy fabric. Toward morning, no longer able to think clearly, Mary made a decision. She would steal the fabric. She had always been a very honest person and would rather starve herself to death then steal. But this wasn’t for her, it was for her child’s immortal soul! Anyway, they’d stolen her William! Mary swore to herself that she would pay back the merchant as soon as she could. But for now, she’d shoplift a little fabric and protect her child.
Was it wrong for Mary to decide to do this? Of course. She knew it. But she wasn’t thinking straight. Who out there has ever had a young child threatened with death? That was exactly how it seemed to her! What would you do to save her or him? Would you risk yourself? Would you break the law? To Mary, in her faith, she was saving her child’s life in heaven.
Oh, Fateful Day!
August 7th, 1771, dawned bright and sunny in London, temperature mild for a summer day.
Was August 7th an ill-starred day? 117 years later, Jack the Ripper would slaughter his first victim, Martha Turner on this day, just off Whitechapel High Street where Mary had started out on her way to Ann’s. Was there an evil lurking there which attached to Mary and later to Martha? On this day 211 years earlier, Hungarian countess Elizabeth Báthory, who purportedly tortured and murdered hundreds of young women in the 16th and 17th centuries, was born.
August 7th was certainly an ill-fated day to shoplift on Ludgate street. There had been a spate of shoplifting incidents in the Ludgate Street area of London during the summer of 1771. Several instances in the last week had roused the shop keepers to a high alert and one, especially, was keeping watch for suspects anywhere on the street.
Just after nine in the morning, Ann and Mary with Abby in her arms (Jean was left with a neighbor) sailed forth from Angel Alley, headed north and west to the shops. They went across Knight Rider Street, then Little Carter Street and to St. Paul’s Churchyard Lane and past the tall spires and dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral, gleaming brightly in the clear morning sun. Walking along on a beautiful morning, Ann was chattering away with great enthusiasm and Abby was cooing happily. Mary, however was very reserved, guiltily pondering her intended crime in her heart.
The three exited the church ground onto Ludgate Hill Street. The gate in the ancient wall surrounding the city, was gone now, demolished in 1760. Prior to that, a gate had guarded the approach to the city over the Fleet River since Roman Times. Though various theories have been advanced for the name, Ludgate, most now believe it is a derivation from “flood” or ‘fleet (as in tidal and the origin of the name of Fleet River), gate. By 1771, Ludgate street and the continuation, Ludgate Hill, was a major thoroughfare in the heart of London.
Walking up to Ludgate Street, they went in and out of several shops. Ann and Abby were having fun together making faces and laughing, and Mary was stalling, praying to avoid stealing, but with no idea how not to.
Between heart-wrenching sobs, Mary poured out what had been troubling her since Abby’s birth. The baby had not been christened! If she died, she would be denied Paradise! Ann tried to calm her and asked why not have her christened at once? Mary, crying and sobbing explained that she had been to the parish church, St. Andrew by-the-Wardrobe near Puddle Wharf and spoken to the Rector, pleaded her poverty. and he was willing to do the whole service for two shillings eight.
“Well that’s fine,” said Ann, feeling sympathy for her friend's concern. “Ye surely have that much saved and I be able to pitch a little.”
“Ye are a true friend, too kind and too generous by half. But me savings is most piteous. And the Parish ain’t the whole problem. A wee babe just mustn’t be presented before God without a fine, proper christening dress. I’s checked the shops and the least dear proper dress would call for five Bob!”
Ann tried to argue that a dress wasn’t that important, but Mary wouldn’t be moved. Her parents had always said so, so it must be true! After an hour, she gave up and let Mary cry as she went back to her sewing. Then it came to her!
“Mary! I’s got the grandest idea! I’m gotten ever so good at this sewing. I’ll sew up a proper dress for little Abby!” Mary stared open-mouthed. “Deed I could! If you just gets the fabric, I’ll sew up a dandy dress for the babe!”
Mary was overwhelmed with gratitude, hugging and kissing Ann for all she was worth. Then she hesitated a moment. “What would them’s shops want for the material?”
“Not much over a Bob, I think. Never be more than one and six! You just keep saving up. I can help with a few pence of a loan if you ever needs it.”
Mary smiled at her friend’s goodwill and generosity. But a shilling seemed unreachable. She didn’t want to hurt Ann’s enthusiasm, so she asked, “Where’d we buy such fabric?”
“Oh, Lordy, there are ever so many fabric shops up on Ludgate Street, west of the Cathedral. By mid-month they lay in new goods, so they usually offer some reduced in the next week. Wednesday, the 7th, I’s got no plans. Us two’ll go up there and shop around like fine ladies. It’ll be grand!”
Mary said nothing to discourage her friend’s joy. She resolved that she would try harder tomorrow to raise money.
However, the next day was her worst for a long while. The people on the street were getting to know her and tire of constant begging. Some of the young, topping men would even cuff her ears and tell her to go back to her brothel with her bastard baby. Others would no longer pay for a tit feel and insisted in real sex, which she would not -she could not - consent to. That day and the next, she brought so little home that she gave it all to Ann. By the time Tuesday evening came around she had two-shilling nine, not enough for the christening and the fabric. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Ann and just went along with the plans for a stroll to Ludgate Hill the next morning.
An Awful Decision
All night Mary tossed and turned, worrying about the next day shopping. She simply didn’t have enough money for the christening. She couldn’t keep postponing it. Just yesterday, little Abby had a small cough. Children could be snatched away so quickly! Her mind raced feverishly.
But she only had a few pennies to buy fabric. Toward morning, no longer able to think clearly, Mary made a decision. She would steal the fabric. She had always been a very honest person and would rather starve herself to death then steal. But this wasn’t for her, it was for her child’s immortal soul! Anyway, they’d stolen her William! Mary swore to herself that she would pay back the merchant as soon as she could. But for now, she’d shoplift a little fabric and protect her child.
Was it wrong for Mary to decide to do this? Of course. She knew it. But she wasn’t thinking straight. Who out there has ever had a young child threatened with death? That was exactly how it seemed to her! What would you do to save her or him? Would you risk yourself? Would you break the law? To Mary, in her faith, she was saving her child’s life in heaven.
Oh, Fateful Day!
August 7th, 1771, dawned bright and sunny in London, temperature mild for a summer day.
Was August 7th an ill-starred day? 117 years later, Jack the Ripper would slaughter his first victim, Martha Turner on this day, just off Whitechapel High Street where Mary had started out on her way to Ann’s. Was there an evil lurking there which attached to Mary and later to Martha? On this day 211 years earlier, Hungarian countess Elizabeth Báthory, who purportedly tortured and murdered hundreds of young women in the 16th and 17th centuries, was born.
August 7th was certainly an ill-fated day to shoplift on Ludgate street. There had been a spate of shoplifting incidents in the Ludgate Street area of London during the summer of 1771. Several instances in the last week had roused the shop keepers to a high alert and one, especially, was keeping watch for suspects anywhere on the street.
Just after nine in the morning, Ann and Mary with Abby in her arms (Jean was left with a neighbor) sailed forth from Angel Alley, headed north and west to the shops. They went across Knight Rider Street, then Little Carter Street and to St. Paul’s Churchyard Lane and past the tall spires and dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral, gleaming brightly in the clear morning sun. Walking along on a beautiful morning, Ann was chattering away with great enthusiasm and Abby was cooing happily. Mary, however was very reserved, guiltily pondering her intended crime in her heart.
The three exited the church ground onto Ludgate Hill Street. The gate in the ancient wall surrounding the city, was gone now, demolished in 1760. Prior to that, a gate had guarded the approach to the city over the Fleet River since Roman Times. Though various theories have been advanced for the name, Ludgate, most now believe it is a derivation from “flood” or ‘fleet (as in tidal and the origin of the name of Fleet River), gate. By 1771, Ludgate street and the continuation, Ludgate Hill, was a major thoroughfare in the heart of London.
Walking up to Ludgate Street, they went in and out of several shops. Ann and Abby were having fun together making faces and laughing, and Mary was stalling, praying to avoid stealing, but with no idea how not to.
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. I hear that was a hanging offence in London in those days!
