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+Famous Women+
ELIZABETH FRY.
_The next volumes in the Famous Women Series
will be:_
THE COUNTESS OF ALBANY. By Vernon Lee.
HARRIET MARTINEAU. By Mrs. Fenwick Miller.
MARY WOLLSTONECRAFT. By Elizabeth Robins Pennell.
_Already published:_
GEORGE ELIOT. By Miss Blind.
EMILY BRONTË. By Miss Robinson.
GEORGE SAND. By Miss Thomas.
MARY LAMB. By Mrs. Gilchrist.
MARGARET FULLER. By Julia Ward Howe.
MARIA EDGEWORTH. By Miss Zimmern.
ELIZABETH FRY. By Mrs. E.R. Pitman.
[Illustration: Famous Women]
ELIZABETH FRY.
BY
MRS. E.R. PITMAN.
BOSTON:
ROBERTS BROTHERS.
1884.
_Copyright, 1884,_
BY ROBERTS BROTHERS.
UNIVERSITY PRESS:
JOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE.
LIFE AT EARLHAM, A HUNDRED YEARS AGO. 1
CHAPTER II.
LIFE'S EARNEST PURPOSE. 12
CHAPTER III.
ST. MILDRED'S COURT. 23
CHAPTER IV.
A COUNTRY HOME. 29
CHAPTER V.
BEGINNINGS AT NEWGATE. 39
CHAPTER VI.
NEWGATE HORRORS AND NEWGATE WORKERS. 52
CHAPTER VII.
EVIDENCE BEFORE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 75
CHAPTER VIII.
THE GALLOWS AND ENGLISH LAWS. 97
CHAPTER IX.
CONVICT SHIPS AND CONVICT SETTLEMENTS. 112
CHAPTER X.
VISITS TO CONTINENTAL PRISONS. 131
CHAPTER XI.
NEW THEORIES OF PRISON DISCIPLINE AND MANAGEMENT. 153
CHAPTER XII.
MRS. FRY IN DOMESTIC AND RELIGIOUS LIFE. 182
CHAPTER XIII.
COLLATERAL GOOD WORKS. 212
CHAPTER XIV.
EXPANSION OF THE PRISON ENTERPRISE--HONORS. 228
CHAPTER XV.
CLOSING DAYS OF LIFE. 253
CHAPTER XVI.
FINIS. 265
ELIZABETH FRY.
CHAPTER I.
LIFE AT EARLHAM, A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.
A hundred years ago, Norwich was a remarkable centre of religious,
social and intellectual life. The presence of officers, quartered with
their troops in the city, and the balls and festivities which attended
the occasional sojourn of Prince William Frederick, Duke of Gloucester,
combined to make the quaint old city very gay; while the pronounced
element of Quakerism and the refining influences of literary society
permeated the generation of that day, and its ordinary life, to an
extent not easily conceived in these days of busy locomotion and
new-world travel. Around the institutions of the established Church had
grown up a people loyal to it, for, as an old cathedral city, the charm
of antiquity attached itself to Norwich; while Mrs. Opie and others
known to literature, exercised an attraction and stimulus in their
circles, consequent upon the possession of high intellectual powers and
good social position. It was in the midst of such surroundings, and with
a mind formed by such influences, that Elizabeth Fry, the prison
philanthropist and Quaker, grew up to young womanhood.
She was descended from Friends by both parents: her father's family had
been followers of the tenets of George Fox for more than a hundred
years; while her mother was granddaughter of Robert Barclay, the author
of the _Apology for the People called Quakers_. It might be supposed
that a daughter of Quaker families would have been trained in the
strictest adherence to their tenets; but it seems that Mr. and Mrs. John
Gurney, Elizabeth's parents, were not "plain Quakers." In other words,
they were calm, intellectual, benevolent, courteous and popular people;
not so very unlike others, save that they attended "First-day meeting,"
but differing from their co-religionists in that they abjured the strict
garb and the "thee" and "thou" of those who followed George Fox to
unfashionable lengths, whilst their children studied music and dancing.
More zealous brethren called the Gurneys "worldly," and shook their
heads over their degenerate conduct; but, all unseen, Mrs. Gurney was
training up her family in ways of usefulness and true wisdom; while
"the fear of the Lord," as the great principle of life and action, was
constantly set before them. With such a mother to mould their infant
minds and direct their childish understandings, there was not much fear
of the younger Gurneys turning out otherwise than well. Those who shook
their heads at the "worldliness" of the Gurneys, little dreamt of the
remarkable lives which were being moulded under the Gurney roof.
One or two extracts from Mrs. Gurney's diary will afford a fair insight
into her character:--
If our piety does not appear adequate to supporting us in the
exigencies of life, and I may add, death, surely our hearts cannot
be sufficiently devoted to it. Books of controversy on religion are
seldom read with profit, not even those in favor of our own
particular tenets. The mind stands less in need of conviction than
conversion. These reflections have led me to decide on what I most
covet for my daughters, as the result of our daily pursuits. As
piety is undoubtedly the shortest and securest way to all moral
rectitude, young women should be virtuous and good on the broad,
firm basis of Christianity; therefore it is not the tenets of any
man or sect whatever that are to be inculcated in preference to
those rigid but divine truths contained in the New Testament. As it
appears to be our reasonable duty to improve our faculties, and by
that means to render ourselves useful, it is necessary and very
agreeable to be well-informed of our own language, and the Latin as
being most permanent, and the French as being the most in general
request. The simple beauties of mathematics appear to be so
excellent an exercise to the understanding, that they ought on no
account to be omitted, and are, perhaps, scarcely less essential
than a competent knowledge of ancient and modern history, geography
and chronology. To which may be added a knowledge of the most
approved branches of natural history, and a capacity of drawing
from nature, in order to promote that knowledge and facilitate the
pursuit of it. As a great portion of a woman's life ought to be
passed in at least regulating the subordinate affairs of a family,
she should work plain work herself, neatly; understand the
cutting-out of linen; also she should not be ignorant of the common
proprieties of a table, or deficient in the economy of any of the
most minute affairs of a family. It should be here observed that
gentleness of manner is indispensably necessary in women, to say
nothing of that polished behavior which adds a charm to every
qualification; to both which, it appears pretty certain, children
may be led without vanity or affectation by amiable and judicious
instruction.
These observations furnish the key-note to Mrs. Gurney's system of
training, as well as indicate the strong common-sense and high
principles which actuated her. It was small wonder that of her family of
twelve children so many of them should rise up to "call her blessed."
Neither was it any wonder that Elizabeth, "the dove-like Betsy" of her
mother's journal, should idolize that mother with almost passionate
devotion.
Elizabeth was born on May 21st, 1780, at Norwich; but when she was a
child of six years old, the Gurneys removed to Earlham Hall, a pleasant
ancestral home, about two miles from the city. The family was an old
one, descended from the Norman lords of Gourney-en-brai, in Normandy.
These Norman lords held lands in Norfolk, in the time of William Rufus,
and have had, in one line or another, representatives down to the
present day. Some of them, it is recorded, resided in Somersetshire;
others, the ancestors of Mrs. Fry, dwelt in Norfolk, generation after
generation, perpetuating the family name and renown. One of these
ancestors, John Gurney, embraced the principles of George Fox, and
became one of the first members of the Society of Friends. Thus it came
to pass that Quakerism became familiar to her from early
childhood--indeed, was hereditary in the family.
Elizabeth tells us that her mother was most dear to her; that she seldom
left her mother's side if she could help it, while she would watch her
slumbers with breathless anxiety, fearing she would never awaken. She
also speaks of suffering much from fear, so that she could not bear to
be left alone in the dark. This nervous susceptibility followed her for
years, although, with a shyness of disposition and reserve which was but
little understood she refrained from telling her fears. She was
considered rather stupid and dull, and, from being continually
described as such, grew neglectful of her studies; while, at the same
time, delicacy of health combined with this natural stupidity to prevent
anything like precocious intelligence. Still, Elizabeth was by no means
deficient in penetration, tact, or common-sense; she possessed
remarkable insight into character, and exercised her privilege of
thinking for herself on most questions. She is described as being a shy,
fair child, possessing a poor opinion of herself, and somewhat given to
contradiction. She says in her early recollections: "I believe I had not
a name only for being obstinate, for my nature had a strong tendency
that way, and I was disposed to a spirit of contradiction, always ready
to see things a little differently from others, and not willing to yield
my sentiments to them."
These traits developed, in all probability, into those which made her so
famous in after years. Her faculty for independent investigation, her
unswerving loyalty to duty, and her fearless perseverance in works of
benevolence, were all foreshadowed in these early days. Add to these
characteristics, the religious training which Mrs. Gurney gave her
children, the daily reading of the Scriptures, and the quiet ponderings
upon the passages read, and we cannot be surprised that such a character
was built up in that Quaker home.
At twelve years of age Elizabeth lost her mother, and in consequence
suffered much from lack of wise womanly training. The talents she
possessed ripened and developed, however, until she became remarkable
for originality of thought and action; while the spirit of benevolent
enterprise which distinguished her, led her to seek out modes of
usefulness not usually practiced by girls. Her obstinacy and spirit of
contradiction became in later years gradually merged or transformed into
that decision of character, and lady-like firmness, which were so
needful to her work, so that obstacles became only incentives to
progress, and persecution furnished courage for renewed zeal. Yet all
this was tempered with tender, conscientious heart-searching into both
motives and actions.
During her "teens" she is described as being tall and slender,
peculiarly graceful in the saddle, and fond of dancing. She possessed a
pleasing countenance and manner, and grew up to enjoy the occasional
parties which she attended with her sisters. Still, from the records of
her journal, we find that at this time neither the grave worship of
Quakerism nor the gayeties of Norwich satisfied her eager spirit. We
find too, how early she kept this journal, and from it we obtain the
truest and most interesting glimpses into her character and feelings.
Thus at seventeen years of age she wrote:--
I am seventeen to-day. Am I a happier or a better creature than I
was this day twelvemonths? I know I am happier--I think I am
better. I hope I shall be happier this day year than I am now. I
hope to be quite an altered person; to have more knowledge; to have
my mind in greater order, and my heart too, that wants to be put in
order quite as much.... I have seen several things in myself and
others I never before remarked, but I have not tried to improve
myself--I have given way to my passions, and let them have command
over me, I have known my faults and not corrected them--and now I
am determined I will once more try with redoubled ardor to overcome
my wicked inclinations. I must not flirt; I must not be out of
temper with the children; I must not contradict without a cause; I
must not allow myself to be angry; I must not exaggerate, which I
am inclined to do; I must not give way to luxury; I must not be
idle in mind. I must try to give way to every good feeling, and
overcome every bad. I have lately been too satirical, so as to hurt
sometimes: remember it is always a fault to hurt others.
I have a cross to-night. I had very much set my mind on going to
the Oratorio. The Prince is to be there, and by all accounts it
will be quite a grand sight, and there will be the finest music;
but if my father does not wish me to go, much as I wish it, I will
give it up with pleasure, if it be in my power, without a
murmur.... I went to the Oratorio. I enjoyed it, but I spoke sadly
at random--what a bad habit!
There is much difference between being obstinate and steady. If I
am bid to do a thing my spirit revolts; if I am asked to do a
thing, I am willing.... A thought passed my mind that if I had some
religion I should be superior to what I am; it would be a bias to
better actions. I think I am by degrees losing many excellent
qualities. I am more cross, more proud, more vain, more
extravagant. I lay it to my great love of gayety and the world. I
feel, I know I am falling. I do believe if I had a little true
religion I should have a greater support than I have now; but I
have the greatest fear of religion, because I never saw a person
religious who was not enthusiastic.
It will be seen that Elizabeth at this period enjoyed the musical and
social pleasures of Norwich, while at the same time she had decided
leanings towards the plain, religious customs of the Friends. It is not
wonderful that her heart was in a state of unrest and agitation, that at
times she scarcely knew what she longed for, nor what she desired to
forsake. The society with which she was accustomed to mingle contained
some known in Quaker parlance as "unbelievers"; perhaps in our day they
would be regarded as holding "advanced opinions." One of the most
intimate visitors at Earlham was a gentleman belonging to the Roman
Catholic communion, but his acquaintance seemed rather to be a benefit
than otherwise, for he referred the young Gurneys in all matters of
faith to the "written word" rather than to the opinions of men or books
generally. Another visitor, a lady afterwards known to literature as
Mrs. Schimmelpenninck, was instrumental in leading them to form sound
opinions upon the religious questions of the day. They were thus
preserved from the wave of scepticism which was then sweeping over the
society of that day.
Judging from her journal of this date, it is not easy to detect much, if
any, promise of the future self-denying philanthropy. She seemed
nervously afraid of "enthusiasm in religion"; even sought to shun
anything which appeared different from the usual modes of action among
the people with whom she mingled. A young girl who confessed that she
had "the greatest fear of religion," because in her judgment and
experience enthusiasm was always allied with religion, was not, one
would suppose, in much danger of becoming remarkable for philanthropy.
True, she was accustomed to doing good among the poor and sick,
according to her opportunities and station; but this was nothing
strange--all the traditions of Quaker life inculcate benevolence and
kindly dealing--what she needed was "_the expulsive power of a new
affection_." This "new affection"--the love of Christ--in its turn
expelled the worldliness and unrest which existed, and gave a tone to
her mental and spiritual nature, which, by steady degrees, lifted her
up, and caused her to forget the syren song of earth. Not all at
once,--in the story of her newborn earnestness we shall find that the
habits and associations of her daily life sometimes acted as drawbacks
to her progress in faith. But the seed having once taken root in that
youthful heart, germinated, developed, and sprang up, to bear a glorious
harvest in the work of reclaiming and uplifting sunken and debased
humanity.