Transcription of Trial at the Old Bailey: https://www.oldbaileyonline.org/record/t18470816-1858

The Surgeon witness John Stewart Allen [https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/262061533/john-stewart-allen]

1858. ELIZABETH ALLEN was indicted for feloniously killing and slaying Mary Ann Allen.—She was also charged on the Coroner's inquisition with the like offence.

MR. PRENDERGAST conducted the Prosecution.

MARY ANN PYBUS. I am mistress of the Infant School, in the Marylebone workhouse—on the 22nd of April a child named Mary Ann Allen was brought to the workhouse—I first saw her on the 27th of April, she was in a very destitute state, apparently starved, when given to me—it was very emaciated indeed—it remained under my care till the 30th of May, when it died—it appeared to rally a little, but it was always in a weak and delicate way, and very thin—at first it was unable to play or move about at all, but afterwards it was able to play a little with the other children—while in the workhouse it was allowed wine and arrowroot, and nourishment.

Prisoner. Q. When you saw my little girl on the 27th of April it was in a very weak state, of course? A. Very weak indeed.

CATHERINE BRIDGMAN. I am a nurse for the children in the workhouse—I received the child, Mary Ann Allen, on the 22nd of April—it was in a distressing state; it had only a few rags on, which scarcely covered its person, and was in a very filthy dirty state—it was stripped before me—I saw no marks of bruises about it—it appeared thin, and was scarcely able to stand from weakness—I have not seen children so thin, unless they were children that wanted proper nourishment—I know nothing of the mother of the child.

ROBERT JEFFERIES. I live at No. 26, Wells-street, Oxford-street, the prisoner and her husband occupied the back attic of my house—they had two children, one of them was Mary Ann Allen, the deceased—she was about four years of age—the children were both taken together to the Marylebone workhouse—my attention was drawn to the deceased on the 22nd of April, by a person of the name of Hobson—I went up to the back attic, and when I came to the door the eldest little girl was inside, crying—I requested her to open the door—she said, the mother was gone out, and had locked them in—the door was locked—I went into my shop, got a bunch of old keys, and opened it—I found the eldest child sitting upright on the sacking, and the youngest lying on her side, close by the other—they were in the most dirty beastly state that I ever saw, and the room was equally as bad—there was a large tub standing by the side of the bed, full of human soil—it had been there, I suppose, for six months, from the stench; I could not go into the room for some time—there was a large baking-dish underneath the bed, also full, and some in another corner of the room, in an old saucepan without a handle—there was nothing in the room but the bedstead, an old table, a chest of drawers, and an old fender—the children were literally naked, they had nothing on them but what appeared to be a bit of calico, as black as my hat, round their shoulders—they were both in that state—I received information from one of them—the prisoner came to lodge there on the 18th of March, 1835, and lodged there until this time—I do not know how the youngest child was treated—I could very often hear the eldest crying—I never heard the youngest cry, as she was so very weak—I do not know of my own knowledge that she did have a proper supply of food, I have every reason to believe that she did not—I have never had any conversation with the prisoner upon the subject—the father was in the hospital for three weeks altogether—I think he went on the 22nd of April, but I did not take particular notice—I know he was in the hospital at this time—the children remained together in the room, till I had the prisoner taken for robbing the apartment—they were taken to the work-house at eleven o'clock that night—I seldom had an opportunity of seeing at what time the prisoner came in and out—she used to go out generally at eight o'clock in the morning, and sometimes came home again about one or two, but not always, and then went out again—she was a charwoman at two houses in Carburton-street—I think the husband was there in the morning as I took the children away at night—I think he went to the hospital on that day, for I knew he was going to the hospital, and that made me go into the room.

Prisoner. Q. He went to the hospital on the 1st of April, and you saw me go with him; the tub which you say was there for six months, I borrowed to wash in, and on the 19th you came and asked for it, and I told you I could not spare it as the clothes were in it? Witness. I am not certain on what day the husband went to the hospital, I think it was on the same day that I went into the room—I had seen him several times in the course of that week—I only received one week's rent during the six months he was out of a situation—I did not go up on the 19th and ask her for the tub—the tub she speaks of was sold long before that—she came down next day and gave me what little money she could, it might have been half-a-crown—I knew she had no money, and never troubled her for it—I did not see her go out to work every morning.

MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. How long had the husband been in the hospital on the day the children were taken to the workhouse? A. I do not think he had been there above a few days, I thought it was the same day, and I think it was, but I am not certain about it.

MARY CLARK. I lodge at No. 26, Wells-street. I remember the child being taken to the workhouse—I cannot say how long before that, the father had been to the hospital—I do not know whether he had been at home on that day—I was called by the last witness to look at the child—I never observed the prisoner beat her; she did not attend to it, or take a mother's care of it; quite the reverse, she neglected it in every possible way, never cleaned or dressed it—it was hardly ever fed, and then only with food of the worst description—it was occasionally brought down to my school and left with me, once a month or so—when I first saw the child two years and a half ago, it was in a very weakly state, and covered with sores; it could not stand.

it was in its mother's arms covered with a piece of green baize; it had a scabbed face—I conceive that the child was slighted and neglected by its mother; though she has repeatedly told me that the children were fed better than I was, every day of my life—she certainly had the means of giving them food, and supporting them with credit, if she had thought proper—I know that her husband was out of work for a few weeks; but she told me that even when he was out of work he used to bring her home 7s. a-week; out of work, or in work, she told me she always had that, and she had coals every Saturday night from some charitable institution—when her husband was not employed at the coach-making, I understood from her that he acted as taproom man, or something at a public-house—when she brought the children to school she used to give the elder girl three halfpence, to buy their dinner with—I was called up by the landlord on the day the child was taken to the work-house—she was lying as perfectly naked as she was born, and the bones were protruding through the skin—the skin was actually broken at the bottom part of its back, and the bone was bare—the prisoner was always very meanly clad herself—I cannot say that I ever saw her perfectly sober—I occasionally saw her during the last week or so before the child was removed, but I never saw her perfectly sober—I have repeatedly spoken to her about the children, and she has told me to mind my own business, that they were better fed than I was.

Prisoner. Q. Have you not often seen me come home with food to my children? A. I have, with broken victuals; and I have seen you carry it out again immediately afterwards; on one occasion you brought a plate of odd victuals into my room, and actually stood and fed my dog with it; I asked you to take it up to your children; you did not, but told me to mind my own business, and that is what enrages me so—I did not tell you that the dog would not leave you till you gave him a bit—they were pieces of bread, skirts of meat, rinds of cheese, and so on—you said the children would not eat it—they were certainly such things as they would eat—the bread was hard, certainly; but if it had been sopped they could have eaten it—that was about a week before they were removed.

COURT. Q. Do you mean to say that she gave that to the dog which would have been of use to the children? A. She certainly did—I have repeatedly seen her bring food home and take the same food out again, scraps of pies, meat, and bits of things—she has shown them to me when she has come in, and said, "This is for my children," and I have afterwards seen her take it out again just in the same state—that has occurred several times during the last six months—her husband, who is in Court, says that he has a witness to prove that she did take the food out again and sell it.

Prisoner. You have seen me take the plates out, to take back to the mistress I worked for—I was always glad to bring things home to my children—you are speaking false. Witness. It is nothing but the truth.

ELIZABETH ALLEN. I lived with my mother in Well's-street—I am nine years old—my sister Mary Ann was younger—I remember Mr. Jefferies coming up to us when we were taken to the workhouse—my father had been in the hospital a fortnight at that time—we did not have our food regularly before my father went to the hospital—my mother did not give us our food regularly—she did not give my sister food—she used to give her dry bread some-times—she had not very often got anything to give her, before my father went to the hospital—she sometimes gave her food, she did not do so oftener because she had no money—she did not give her food very often after my father went to the hospital—she used to beat my sister sometimes—it was not for doing anything wrong, but because she was crying—my mother was generally tipsy while my father was in the hospital, and she used to treat my sister very badly—she used to cry because she had no victuals—she said so, and my mother said she could not get any, that she had none—while my father was in the hospital my mother used to go out and lock us in, sometimes all day—she used to leave us a bit of dry bread sometimes, but my sister could not eat it—we never had anything but dry bread to eat during the time my father was in the hospital—my sister had no clothes—sometimes she had, and my mother used to take them off sometimes and take and sell them, and then she would come home tipsy—while my father was at home there was food in the house sometimes—my father left money sometimes, but my mother did not get food for my sister that she could eat, she gave her dry bread; she had nothing but dry bread—sometimes my father would give her some bread and butter—my mother sometimes brought home food in a dish or plate—she did not offer it to my sister, she used to eat it herself—it was such food as my sister could have eaten, if it had been given to her—my sister was ill while my father was in the hospital, but she could run about sometimes when she was well—she was ill at the time she was taken to the workhouse—she had been ill for two days—my mother has gone out and left my sister and me together a good many times—when my father was at home he would sometimes give food to my mother to give to us—she did not give it to us—I did not complain of that to my father—she dared me to do so—my father sometimes brought my sister home clothes, and mother used to take them off when he was gone out, and sell them.

Prisoner. Q. Have I not been obliged to take your things and my own to get us victuals when I had not enough money? A. No—you have not always given us food when you had it—you have not given us breakfast, and gone to work without any yourself—you have not brought home victuals to us of an afternoon, or given us tea, bread and butter, or fish and bacon—my father did not mostly have breakfast with us.

JURY. Q. Before your father went to the hospital, was he in the habit of coming home to his regular meals? A. No—he went out about seven of a morning, and came home about twelve o'clock at night—he worked at coachmaking—he stopped at the public-house sometimes.

GRACE MARIA HOBSON. I live in the next room to the prisoner—I was called in and saw the destitute state in which the children were left.

JOHN STEWART ALLEN. I am a surgeon—I saw the deceased child in the workhouse—she appeared very much wasted, as if she had not had a proper quantity of food—if the child had been left without the proper supply of the necessaries of life it might have presented that appearance—I think it would—I examined the child after death—I found mesenteric disease—that might account in some respects for its starved appearance—that disease might either be brought on or increased by a want of proper food—I cannot with any certainty say that I should expect to find mesenteric disease in a child of that age if it was in a state of starvation—I have heard the evidence of the prisoner's daughter—I cannot say that the way in which she describes the child to have been kept, would produce mesenteric disease, it might tend to it—there was extensive disease in the lungs, also effusion of water on the brain—I think the immediate cause of death was the effusion of water on the brain, but it is mere matter of opinion—I should attribute that effusion to glandular disease, the same that pervaded the whole body—I think that glandular disease is likely to be brought on or increased by the want of proper food—I should say that which occasions general debility has a tendency to produce glandular disease—bad air, bad nourishment, and bad clothing are calculated to produce the morbid affection of which the child died—I cannot positively state whether the death was occasioned by neglect or want of proper care and nourishment, but I think it may have been hastened by that—I think there is no doubt about that—I believe that the death was hastened by the treatment the child's sister has described.

Prisoner. Q. The child's head was affected, was it not? A. Yes—your husband never consulted me about the child.

Prisoner's Defence. The child had been very weakly ever since it was a twelvemonth old, and was attended by Dr. Brown, of King-street Dispensary, for water on the brain; I fed them as well as I could, my husband being out of work for six months and a fortnight; I worked hard for them at whatever I could get; I pledged things out of the room, but it was to help to support them, as what I earned was not sufficient; I was taken up for that, and had three month's imprisonment in the House of Correction; it was while I was there that my child died; I knew nothing about it till last Tuesday fortnight, when the police came to bring me down to Newgate; I am innocent of the charge against me; I worked hard the whole week long, to support my poor children, and if I had not tried to do that, I should never have put myself in the way of being sent to prison, by taking the things out of the room; my daughter has been away from me, and, I am sorry to say, has been tutored to speak falsely.

GUILTY. Aged 31.— Confined Eighteen Months.