by Bonnie Leon
All this for a piece of bread, she thought, feeling more wretched than she’d thought possible. Her mind carried her to the hearing she’d soon face. Surely the judge will see that I’m innocent of any real crime.
Even as Hannah tried to quiet her fears, she knew the court’s reputation. They rarely displayed mercy. People were often hanged for insignificant offenses. Hannah’s pulse quickened and her stomach churned. What kind of penalty would she pay? Uncertainty sent shivers through her. What if she were found guilty and sentenced to the gallows? Feeling sick, she pressed her hand against her stomach.
Perhaps someone would vouch for her. But who? No one who cared about her even knew she was here.
The sound of a door clanging echoed off prison walls. She heard sharp footsteps. And then Ruby emerged from a dark corridor. She stopped at the gaoler’s desk and spoke with him.
“Ruby!” Hannah sprinted to the front of the cell.
Her forehead furrowed and eyebrows pinched, Ruby managed to smile. She hurried to Hannah. “Oh my. How distressing to find you here. What happened to you, luv?”
Hannah didn’t want to answer. Instead, she asked, “How did you know I was here?”
“I heard just this morning from Mr. Lightner. He saw you arrested three days ago. What happened?”
“Oh Ruby, it was awful.” Hannah rubbed her bitten arms. “I was starving and I couldn’t find work. . . .” Ashamed, she glanced away. “I couldn’t stand the hunger any longer, and I stole bread from a man at the market. He saw me and hollered for help. There were constables nearby. They chased me. . . .” Unable to stop the flow of tears, she sobbed, “I couldn’t run fast enough.”
“Oh my Lord.” Ruby squeezed Hannah’s hands. “Why did you leave my house? I would have taken care of ye.”
“I know you would have, but I couldn’t stay and bring hardship upon you. You’ve barely enough to care for your own family. And your husband—”
“Tish tosh, my husband. He’s too concerned with his own comforts. I tell him how it’s going to be.”
Hannah knew Ruby spoke the truth. She would stand up to Percy, but then there would be consequences to pay.
A smile played at Ruby’s lips as she dug into a pocket. “I brought ye something.” She held out an apple and a small loaf of bread. “Figured ye could use it.”
“Oh, thank you.” Hannah took the food, feeling as if she’d been presented treasure. She pressed the apple to her nose and smelled its sweetness. She bit into it. Juice squirted into her mouth and she closed her eyes to fully take in the pleasure of it. Holding it close so as to discourage anyone from taking it from her, she quickly devoured the fruit, eating even the core.
As Ruby watched Hannah, she couldn’t conceal her sorrow. “Wish I could ’ave brought ye more.”
Hannah tucked the bread into her pocket and kept her hand pressed over it. “I’ll save this for later.”
“So, do ye know when yer trial will be?”
“No. No one’s said anything.”
“I’ll vouch for ye. You’re a good sort and a kind soul. They’ll have to listen, and the judge will be lenient when he hears of your kindly nature and fine character.” She smiled. “I got others who’ll testify too. But we got to know when the trial is.”
“I wish I knew. Perhaps you can go to the courthouse and ask. My name must be on the docket.”
“That’s a fine idea. I’ll see what I can find out.” Ruby laid her hand over Hannah’s. “Is there anything else I can do for ye?”
“Pray. I need your prayers more than anything. I don’t think God is listening to mine anymore.”
“Now, listen to yerself,” Ruby chided. “Of course he hears ye. He loves ye.”
Hannah stared at her hands gripping the bars. “I don’t think so . . . not anymore.”
“Dearie, ye can’t think that way. There’s nothing that can keep the Father’s love from ye.”
“I want to believe you, Ruby, but it seems he’s taken his eyes off me.” She reached through the bars to grasp her friend’s hands. “If I’m found guilty . . . would you please watch over my mother’s grave?”
“They’ll find ye innocent. They must.”
“Please, Ruby.”
The kindly woman offered a resigned smile. “Of course, luv. I’ll watch over it.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Well, I got to go. Percy will be wanting his lunch. I’ll come back soon. And by then, I pray we’ll know when yer hearing is.”
“Thank you. I love you, Ruby.”
“You are dear to me, like my own child.” She patted Hannah’s hand, then turned and walked away.
As Ruby moved toward the passageway, Hannah was overwhelmed at the sense that she’d never again see her friend. She watched until the dark corridor hid her from sight, and then she stood at the bars for a long while. Leaning against them, she tried not to think about what she might be facing. Mum, I won’t shame you anymore, she promised.
The insistent pleas of a child called her attention back to the cell. She realized the baby had been crying for a long while. Why hadn’t its mother quieted it?
The toddler tugged on her mother’s arm, then patted her face and finally climbed onto her chest and lay on the sleeping woman. Surely she must know her baby needs her, Hannah thought. The child’s cries grew louder.
She studied the woman. She’s very still. Hannah moved closer. She wasn’t breathing. Hannah took the last steps cautiously, looking about to see if anyone else had noticed her condition. They looked back at Hannah with knowing eyes, but no one made a move toward the woman.
Hannah knelt beside the young mother and rested her hand on her arm, hoping to shake her awake. Her skin was cold.
“Oh!” Hannah nearly fell backward. “She’s dead.” Horror stricken, Hannah thought, Someone should do something! She looked about. “This woman needs help,” she said, then thought, She’s beyond that now.
A woman with a child of her own spoke to no one in particular. “They don’t care. No one cares.” Her words carried the weight of her hopelessness.
Hannah turned her attention to the child, and a flood of empathy washed through her. She’s like me. An orphan. “Come on, luv. I’ll take care of you.” She scooped the baby into her arms.
Instead of being grateful for salvation, the little girl screamed and threw herself away from Hannah. Close to tears herself, Hannah fought to hang on to her.
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She held the little one close and then stood and walked away from the child’s mother. She moved to the cell door. “There’s a woman here. She’s dead.”
The gaoler looked up, but he didn’t move.
“This child’s mother is dead,” Hannah repeated.
The gaoler went back to whittling.
Holding the little girl close, Hannah slowly walked back and forth, hoping to quiet her. Finally, the toddler stuck her thumb into her mouth, nestled against Hannah’s breast, and closed her eyes.
Several hours later, the woman’s body was removed. Although the baby whimpered off and on, she seemed mostly content. When the evening’s bread and soup was distributed, Hannah spooned the greasy liquid into the little girl’s mouth and dipped the dry bread into the broth, softening it enough so the child could eat it. That night, Hannah slept with the baby in her arms. Both were comforted by the other’s presence.
Early the next morning, Hannah’s name was called. She searched for someone who could look after the child. Finally an older woman took the toddler. Hannah joined two others at the cell door and the three were hauled out of the cell, chained to one another, and taken to the courthouse.
The courtroom was imposing with its exceptionally tall ceilings. Hannah felt small inside the chamber and wondered if that had been the intent of the architects. The furnishings—two benches along the side walls, two long tables near the front sitting side-by-side, and the judge’s bench—were made of heavy, dark wood as were the seats for spectators.
Visitors crowded the chamber. Hanna
h searched the faces, hoping to see Ruby and her other friends. She recognized no one.
A group of men sat sequestered from the spectators and prisoners. Hannah decided they must be the jury. She studied them, hoping to see kind, sympathetic faces. Most had their jaws and their eyes set, unwilling to reveal their feelings.
Her eyes traveled to the front of the room and an oversized rostrum. A judge wearing a black robe and a white wig moved to the dais. He looked familiar. Taking a seat behind the imposing bench, he looked over the courtroom.
Hannah sucked in a breath. Mr. Walker!
She felt her legs go out from beneath her. A guard grabbed her before she fell. The magistrate’s eyes met Hannah’s; he gazed at her with disdain. He’d known she was going to be here and had anticipated the entertainment. The guard sat her down on a hard bench. Dread filled Hannah. There was no longer any hope of an innocent verdict.
Shackled, she and the other prisoners sat on one side of the courtroom, the jury on the other. Most of the prisoners were men.
Hannah was cold. Keeping her hands clasped tightly, she tried to stop them from shaking. Over and over she prayed, Lord, have mercy on me.
The male prisoners were first to face the prosecutor and the judge. Only one man had a barrister to defend him. As it turned out, having representation was of no help. The defendant had stolen jewelry from a wealthy household and now faced the gallows. He was taken away to await execution.
Hannah’s heart beat wildly and she breathed in short gasps. She’d only taken a loaf of bread. Certainly she would be released.
The court bailiff called her name. Legs quaking, Hannah made her way to a railing that separated prisoners, prosecutors, and barristers from the Honorable Judge Walker. While a court clerk read the charges, she clutched the handrail and kept her eyes down. She hoped she looked calm.
“Hannah Corinne Talbot, you have been indicted for one count of petty larceny with a second count of grand larceny.” Hannah’s eyes widened and she looked at the clerk. “Grand larceny, sir? May I ask why such a charge has been lodged against me?” She looked at the judge. “It’s not possible. All I took was a loaf of bread. I was hungry.”
The clerk returned to his seat.
Judge Walker looked down on Hannah, his eyes glinting.
A man wearing silk breeches, a knee-length coat, and an embroidered waistcoat strolled toward the front of the courtroom. “A loaf of bread is it?” He smirked. “While in Judge Walker’s employ, you left quite suddenly, in the middle of the night in fact. Isn’t that correct?”
“Yes . . . but—”
“And you took a silver chalice of fine quality.”
“No, sir. That’s not true. There’s been a mistake. I didn’t steal anything from Mr. Walker.” Hannah looked squarely at the judge. “I didn’t steal from you. Tell them.”
“There’s no use in denying it,” Judge Walker said. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if you took other items that simply haven’t been discovered as yet.”
“I didn’t. You know I didn’t.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The judge bristled. “You may tell any story you like, but this court will not be fooled.”
“I didn’t take it,” Hannah said in a small voice. She knew that no matter what explanation she gave it would not be heard. She turned to the prosecutor. “You must believe me.”
“You expect me to take your word over that of Judge Walker? I think not.”
“But, sir—”
“Enough.” The judge brought down a gavel and the sound echoed throughout the chamber. “If it were my only task to offer mercy, I would most certainly find you innocent of the charges, but my duty is to serve the law. And that I shall do.” He looked at the gallery. “Is there anyone here to speak for this woman?”
Silence.
“Then. You have been accused of larceny, having stolen the said item on the night of 13 March 1804, and the second offense taking place two days after on 15 March 1804.”
Hannah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “No,” she croaked, her mouth too dry to speak.
The magistrate looked at the jury. “And how do you find for this prisoner?”
The jurors conferred, and then one of them stood and said, “Guilty as charged.”
Judge Walker gazed down at Hannah, his eyes like black coals. “You will serve fourteen years transportation, to commence immediately.”
“Please, sir. Have mercy. I am innocent of the crimes charged to me.”
“Enough!” The judge glared at her. “Careful or your impudence will further extend your punishment.”
Hannah closed her mouth. There was nothing she could do or say. Clenching her teeth, she glared at him. She hated him.
A guard grabbed her arm and steered her toward the back of the courtroom. The wagon that had transported her from the prison waited at the bottom of the steps. She was thrust into the back and shackled. There she waited for fate to have its way.
9
As the longboat cut through choppy waters, Hannah kept her manacled hands in her lap. She stared at the convict ship, wishing this were all a nightmare and that she’d wake up.
Sailors brought the boat alongside the ship. The man in charge stood, easily balancing in the pitching vessel. “All right, ladies, one at a time up the ladder.”
Hannah stared at a rope ladder hanging over the side. How were they expected to climb such a thing while still in irons? What if someone were to fall?
“I said up! You there,” the sailor pointed at an older woman sitting in the middle of the boat. “Up the ladder with you.”
She stood and fought to keep her balance in the rocking boat. Unsteadily she moved to the rope and grabbed hold of it with one hand, then the other.
“Hurry up, now. We’ve not got all day. There are other prisoners on their way.”
She glanced at the sailor and then placed a foot in the first loop and pushed up as she grabbed hold of the next handhold. Cautiously she made her way up and finally disappeared over the railing. Hannah let out a relieved breath.
One by one the prisoners negotiated the ladder. When it was Hannah’s turn, she took a deep breath and then grabbed hold of a rung while putting her foot in another. When she was nearly half way, the rope swayed wildly and she thought she might fall. She stopped climbing, gripped the heavy ropes, and pressed her body against them.
“Go on!” someone shouted from below.
She glanced down and mistakenly looked at the swells. Dizziness swamped her, but she looked up and kept going. When she reached the deck, she managed to grab hold of rigging and haul herself over the rail. A young woman with vivid green eyes and a look of determination reached out a hand to her.
Grasping it, Hannah swung her legs over and set her feet on the deck. “Thank you.”
“Glad to help.” The woman turned and waited for the next one up the ladder. Hannah stood with her and together they watched as a mother clutching an infant started up.
“You’re doing well,” Hannah said. “Come on, then.” Although she kept her voice heartening, she was angry. Why wasn’t someone allowed to help her?
“Keep on. Yer nearly here,” the woman with the green eyes called down.
The woman glanced up and continued to climb.
“Yer movin’ too slow. Hurry up,” one of the sailors called. He glanced over his shoulder at his mates. “Me grandmother could do better,” he said with a chuckle.
“To make sport of her that way is unspeakable evil,” said the woman working beside Hannah. “If I could, I’d tear his heart out.”
Hannah agreed the man deserved retribution.
The woman and child finally made it up. She was the last of the lot.
Hannah turned to look at the place that would be home for the crossing. Her eyes roamed over the ship. It was a jumble of sails and rigging. The animals on deck were in an uproar. Swine enclosed in a pen snorted and squealed their dismay. Cows corralled beside them seemed unperturbed and calmly
chewed their cud. Chickens wandered about, clucking and scratching. The odor on board was rank.
“So we’ve been brought to a pigsty, eh,” said the green-eyed woman. She chuckled.
Hannah couldn’t find any humor in it. She looked at the woman, incredulously. “How can you jest about something like this?”
“And what should I do? Whine and wail? That will help, eh?”
“No. But . . . you must agree that this is all quite tragic.”
“That it is, but what purpose does grumbling serve?”
Hannah had to admit that complaining altered nothing, but she was still unable to accept the reality of what was happening to her. How could God have allowed it? This is too difficult a trial, Lord. Pray, have mercy on me.
Not wanting the daring woman to see her tears, she turned and gazed at London. It was a clear day, very little fog. Smoke belched from chimneys all over the city, staining the unusually blue sky. She felt the tearing of separation. London was the only home she’d known. I shan’t see you again, she thought, recounting her recent tribulations and all that she’d lost.
A firm hand rested on her shoulder. “Give it no honor. It’s a ruthless city.”
Hannah looked into kind green eyes.
“Name’s Lydia. Yours?”
“Hannah.”
“Over ’ere. The lot of ye,” shouted a sailor.
The women hurried to obey. They stood in a crowd.
“Line up!”
Scrambling into rows, the women waited while a man dressed in a navy uniform ambled toward them.
“We’ve a fair number of lydies this trip, sir,” the sailor said.
The captain stood quietly, surveying the group. “For the next six to seven months this will be your home. And if you want to live to see New South Wales, you’ll follow the rules.” He strode to one side. “You’ll eat what’s given to you without complaint.” He moved back to the place he’d started. “There’ll be no talking back, no tolerating disrespect, and no fighting between yourselves. You’ll be sorry if I hear of any infractions.”
