How Grannie Gilbert obtained support

HOW GRANNIE GILBERT WAS ABLE TO OBTAIN ASISTANCE FOR THE MAINTENANCE OF HER FAMILY AND FOR THEIR VOYAGE TO NEW SOUTH WALES.

In this Chapter, I will tell you how, while Samuel Gilbert was in prison, waiting to be taken away on a Convict ship all the way to New South Wales, his poor little wife, Mary, was able, on her own, to do so much for herself and their children.

Sam had been in Newgate Prison until his trial, and he was then sent to an old warship hulk, the "Justitia". The convicts were kept there as a prison. To fill in their time, I think they were employed in making oakum, which was made from old ropes which were untwined and pulled to pieces into loose hemp, and thus it was used for blocking cracks in the joints of the boards in ships, and for stopping leaks. The convicts were probably also employed in repairing the sails of warships of the Royal Navy. You may remember that when Lieutenant Cook ran his ship, the "Endeavour", into the Great Barrier Reef in 1770, he was able to repair her in the Endeavour River where the town of Cooktown was built later. His ship carried her supply of oakum which was used to block up the leaks in her planks.

The next important happening for Mary Gilbert was the birth of her third daughter, Maria, on 12th November, 1815. She was still living in the same house in New Inn Yard. So although she was only 27 years of age, she now had five children. I think it was then about the time that Mary Anne went to live with Mr. & Mrs. Lea, for she was now talking so well that they wanted the little chatterbox to care for as their own, maybe, because their other children had already grown up.

Now there were experts of all kinds in the prison on the "Justitia", and it must have been suggested to Sam that the Bank of England had plenty of money, and that he should write out a Petition to the Bank, seeking help for the maintenance of his wife and five children. He had been in jail for nearly six months by then . He had a bit of cheek in doing this, considering that he had been caught while trying to sell those forged Bank notes. But nevertheless, he wrote that:

"he had an unblemished character till in an unfortunate hour, he became aquainted with a man named George Maurice, who by the artful allurement of a reward, prevailed upon Your Petitioner to convey the said forged notes to one of his acquaintances named Arkins for Eight Pounds which Your Petitioner, through Inexperience, not knowing the fatal tendency of his Mission, complied with, when Arkins informed against Your Petitioner, on which he was apprehended. In order to atone for as far as lay in his power for so flagrant a breach of the Laws, Your Petitioner sent his wife to Mr. Westwood and informed him of every transaction, he knew of Maurice, both in respect of the forged Notes, and the making of three shilling pieces for which the said George Maurice is now Sentenced to three Months Imprisonment in the House of Correction.

That Your Petitioner has a wife and five infant children entirely Dependent on him for Support, but his being upwards of six months confined, they are reduced to the lowest ebb of Misery and distress, having been obliged to part with every Saleable Article they had for subsistence, she is now using her utmost endeavours to obtain permission to take herself and family to New South Wales, the place of his Destination, which she has hoped to obtain."

This was all right for Sam Gilbert in his accommodation on the "Justitia", with a warm bed and three meals a day, while his wife, Mary, did not have a cracker and was living entirely on the charity of her friends and relations to keep her and her five little children.

But the hard hearted Bank of England was not moved by the flowery language, and it tossed out this Petition on on 20th January, 1816.

So what did Mary Gilbert do? She decided to go to the Bank herself. I cannot tell you the story in full, for nobody has ever written it for us, but I have worked out what she must have done. Would you, with your education, be able to write a Petition to the Bank of England ? Maybe she did not know how as well, but that did not stop her. I have worked it out so that you and I can go with her to the Bank.

The two boys, Sam and John would have been sent to school, and little Mary Anne was at the Lea's. Mary might have had another lady with her, and they may have been able to borrow a pram for the baby and little Charlotte. And, as it was obvious that Mr. Lea was not there with his horse and carriage on that day, they walked all the way to to the Head Office of the Bank in Threadneedle Street in the City of London where Mary presented herself at the counter with Maria in her arms and Charlotte at her side, and told the Bank officer her story. How she was penniless, and had sold everything for their support. How could they have anything to sell in their little home ? They could not sell the big tub in which they all bathed on Saturday night. She was stone, motherless broke, but not broken hearted. She may have been reduced to tears, because the Bank had knocked back Sam's Petition for help, and from 25th May, 1815, to about the middle of February, 1816, she had not one penny left for herself for those nine months on her own.

So what did the Bank Manager do ? I think I have worked it out for you. He sat her down at a table and gave her a sheet of paper and a quill pen and ink, and said to her, "I will tell you what to write, and you can write out your own Petition."

Here is her actual Petition, photocopied from what she wrote, with all her bad spelling. But she really tried, and even signed it "Mary Guilbert", the French way. And the Manager told her "Now you go home again, and hope for the best, and I will do what I can with the Directors." So Mary and her friend, if she had one, put the children in the borrowed pram, if they had one, and walked al the way back to their humble home in Shoreditch, hoping for the best.

And you may not believe it. When the Directors of the Bank of England had the Petition read to them and, possibly with some additions by the Staff who had told Mary exactly what she should write, the Directors made a wonderful decision. We have a copy of that from the Bank Minute Book of 29th February, 1816, nearly 200 years ago, and it reads:

"Ordered. That Mr. Kaye be authorized to pay her Twentyfive Pounds."

Mr. Kaye was the Bank's Solicitor. I have included for you a copy of those magic words.

So Mary Gilbert would have received from a Bank messenger Twentyfive One Pound Bank notes, for there were no more gold coins then as I have already told you.

That £25 was as much as her husband, Samuel Gilbert would have received as money wages in six months working on the London Docks. It was a fortune. She had never had so much money in all of her married life. She would have been able to repay all of her friends who had lent her money to pay her rent, or who had provided her with food. She still probably had enough sheets, blankets and rugs and clothing for the children and paying the small school fees for the boys. She could buy them new boots. She was almost out of her misery. But she had lost her Sam.

When I was in England some years ago, I called on the Bank of England in Threadneedle Street, and I told the staff there about the generosity of its Directors in 1816. They had never heard of it themselves. I suggested that, on my return to Australia, I might take my hat around to the various Gilbert descendants and collect that Twentyfive Pounds and return it to the Bank. They were stricken dumb.

"We would not know what to do with it. We would have to give it to some charity. But, if you manage to collect that money, to give it to us, we would like it back, in gold, with interest."

Now that Grannie Gilbert's money worry was over, she still had money in her purse again. She might have had enough to pay for a cab to go down to Woolwich to see Sam, or she may have been taken there by Richard Lea. She decided to see the Transport Board again about getting on a ship to take her and her children out to New South Wales. Her persistence and her feminine charm must have impressed the Transport Board. She was still working on that herself when Sam was transferred from the "Justitia" hulk to the convict transport "Minerva" at Deptford on the Thames on 6th May 1816, and he sailed in her from the Downs off the coast of Kent on 26th May 1816. I will tell you about her voyage in the next Chapter.

Then I found that her name is first mentioned in a letter from Lord Sidmouth, dated 4th July 1816. It listed the wives and children of convicts who had been transported, and who had been allowed to follow their husbands to Sydney, free of charge. Like our Mary, they all were without a feather to fly with, as some would say in bad English.

They were to go in the convict transport "Lord Melville". We have a photocopy of a list made out by its Captain, Thomas T. Wetherell. It is hard to read at the top, but the first lines read: "Free Women. Mary Ann Gilbert". This is the only time that I have ever seen her full name. You will read the names of 12 women and 11 children in that list.

Little Sam is not on the list. We believe that he was left behind as an apprentice in the weaving trade who was to live with his master, just as Oliver Twist lived with Mr. Sowerberry, the Undertaker, who let Oliver sleep in a coffin, as I have already told you. And little Mary Anne was left to live quite happily with Mr. & Mrs. Richard Lea.

The "Lord Melville" sailed from Gravesend on the Thames on 28th August, 1816, so, unless Mary Gilbert was able to write and send a letter to Sam by some ship leaving for New South Wales at about the beginning of July, he would not have known if and when she and the children would be arriving. The story of her voyage will be told as well, in the next Chapter.

Chapter 8.