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<div class='tnotes covernote'>
<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber’s Note:</strong></p>
<p class='c000'>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p>
</div>
<div class='titlepage border'>
<div>
<h1 class='c001'>REBECCA JARRETT.</h1>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c002'>
<div><span class='small'>BY</span></div>
<div><span class='xlarge'>JOSEPHINE E. BUTLER.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c003'>“Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for ye pay tithe of
mint and anise and cummin, and have omitted the weightier matters of the
law, judgment, mercy, and faith.”—<span class='sc'>Matthew</span> xxiii. 23.</p>
<p class='c004'>“And the Pharisees and scribes murmured, saying, This Man receiveth
sinners, and eateth with them.”—<span class='sc'>Luke</span> xv. 2.</p>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c002'>
<div><span class='blackletter'>Tenth Thousand.</span></div>
<div class='c005'><span class='large'>LONDON: MORGAN AND SCOTT,</span></div>
<div>(<span class='fss'>OFFICE OF</span> “<span class='blackletter'><cite>The Christian</cite></span>,”)</div>
<div>12, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C.</div>
<div class='c005'><span class='small'><em>And may be ordered of any Bookseller.</em></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='border'>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c006'>
<div><span class='small'>A CHEAP EDITION FOR DISTRIBUTION IS IN PREPARATION.</span></div>
<div><span class='small'><em>Price 1d.; or 7s. per 100.</em></span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='figcenter id001'>
<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>
<img src='images/i_005.jpg' alt='[Fleuron]' class='ig001'>
</div>
<div class='chapter'>
<h2 class='c007'>REBECCA JARRETT.</h2>
</div>
<div class='c008'>
<img class='drop-capi' src='images/di_005.jpg' width='100' alt=''>
</div><p class='drop-capi_8'>
The trial is over. Our tongues are now
loosed; and we can speak. And we <em>will</em>
speak. The whole nation will speak, I
doubt not, for William Stead, about whose
noble sacrifice of himself there is only one opinion.
It is not needful for me to add my mite of testimony
to the character of that man, whom I am proud to
have called my friend for many years.</p>
<p class='c009'>What I have to do is to speak of <span class='sc'>Rebecca
Jarrett</span>. I am prompted to do so by my love and
pity for her; and also in response to multitudes of
letters pouring in upon me, from men and women
alike, expressing an opinion of her differing very
much from that given in all the “leaders” of the
London Press on the morning after the verdict.</p>
<p class='c009'>And now I am about to speak the exact truth. I
shall not attempt to clear her from the blame which
<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>attaches to her on account of her wavering in regard
to truth under the cross-examination, nor for the
distinct falsehood which she uttered when pressed
about her past life. All I wish to do is to present the
exact truth about her, in justice to herself, and to Mr.
Stead, for whom she acted; and also to give some incidents
of personal history, which may tend not only
to palliate these departures from truth of which she
was guilty, but to show that the situation in which
she was placed was pathetic—even tragic—and
one from which there was, humanly speaking, no
escape.</p>
<p class='c009'>I accept gladly such an amount of contempt, or
half-scornful pity, as has been publicly expressed for
myself on account of my having been duped, as is
supposed, by this poor woman. While sitting in the
Court during the Judge’s summing up, and observing
how for the moment all alike—the good, bad,
and indifferent—who were present, as well as the
outside world, had for the time rounded upon
this poor woman; and how she was made, so to
speak, the residuary legatee of all the errors and
mistakes committed by the other prisoners in the
dock; and observing that this poor creature—the
“fallen woman”—was made the scapegoat, the
convenient burden-bearer, upon whose shoulders
execration, and blame, and contempt might be
heaped <em>ad libitum</em> without protest from any—I
<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>thought, What a picture this is of the condition of the
world at large!</p>
<p class='c009'>Down all the ages, since that hour when Christ
and the outcast woman were face to face in the
Temple, and every man in the surrounding crowd
was pointing the finger of scorn at her, the world has
continually been pointing the finger at this typical
figure of woe, as the scapegoat upon whom, justly or
unjustly, the sins and miseries of society must be
heaped. The question has always been, “What
shall we do with her?” Never till this last “new
era” has dawned upon us, has it been asked,
“What shall we do with <em>him</em>?”—him, her companion
in sin. And now at last this woeful figure
stands forth, perhaps for the first time in the world’s
history, as a fellow-worker in a great and noble cause
for the emancipation of women from galling slavery
to vice and to the hard judgment of men.</p>
<p class='c009'>My thoughts were many and deep: but a great
calm pervaded my soul; for above all the scorn and
contempt expressed for that woman, in which I was
glad to be to some extent included—above all the
wrangling and injustice of that Court—I saw, as on a
throne of light, the figure of <em>her</em> Saviour and <em>mine</em>; and
I recalled that scene when He, sitting at the dinner-table
of Simon the Pharisee, was judged with the
same worldly-wise pity and scorn which was now
falling upon Rebecca and me. Simon, the gentleman,
<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>the man of the world, the righteous man, said,
“This man (Christ), if he were a prophet (or even
if he were a man of any common sense or knowledge
of the world), would have known who and what
manner of woman this is that toucheth Him; for
she is a sinner.” I heard the whispers near me, “If
Mrs. Butler had not been such a fool, she would
have known what kind of woman this is, and would
never have trusted her.” And I was <em>well content</em>.</p>
<p class='c009'>It is very probable that if that poor woman of the
city, who was a sinner, who washed the feet of Jesus
with her tears, had been called a few weeks later into
a Court of Law in Jerusalem, and been placed for one
long day and-a-half face to face with a sharp and
clever Attorney-General, to answer concerning her
past life, she also might have stumbled and wavered,
in order to save other poor sinners like herself,
whom she would have necessarily involved in any
full revelation of her past. And yet all the time
she loved God; and her sins, which were many,
were forgiven her.</p>
<p class='c008'>I shall give a brief sketch of the life of <span class='sc'>Rebecca
Jarrett</span>, without entering into the details of its
darkest incidents, which have been already sufficiently
dragged to light at the Old Bailey. I think that,
after reading it, any impartial person, knowing anything
of our poor human nature, will say that, if she
<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>misled Mr. Stead, as the verdict of the Jury declares,
she did not mislead him intentionally. She was put
in an exceptionally difficult position for a person of
her poor education and miserable antecedents. Her
head ached and her brain reeled under those long
hours of cross-examination, and her memory (never
a good one) often failed her; but I, who knew her
most intimately, here record my profound and unshaken
conviction that throughout her heart was
true—true to the cause which she had learned to love
as we do—true to me, and true to Mr. Stead, whom
she had heartily desired to help in the work which
she had learned to see to be necessary.</p>
<p class='c009'>The public has not had a fair chance of judging
of the whole case, the newspaper reports
having been imperfect, and in many cases one-sided.
It is no pleasure to me or to my fellow-workers
to speak ill of Mrs. Armstrong and Mrs.
Broughton; but in justice to Rebecca, the extraordinary
nature of their evidence ought to be recalled.
Mrs. Armstrong stated, under cross-examination,
“If I said that, then, at Bow Street, I told a
lie.”<a id='r1'></a><a href='#f1' class='c010'><sup>[1]</sup></a> She accused her little daughter of having
<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>told a lie; she accused Mrs. Broughton of having
told a lie.</p>
<div class='footnote' id='f1'>
<p class='c009'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. With regard to failure of memory, it will be remembered that
the newspaper reports stated that Mrs. Armstrong, when under
cross-examination, contradicted her own previous evidence six
times, besides contradicting her husband, her daughter, and Jane
Farrer.</p>
<p class='c009'>Mr. Stead cross-examined Mrs. Armstrong somewhat closely as to
what specific statements, or allusions, or clue of any kind, there were in
the “Lily” paragraph of the <cite>Pall Mall Gazette</cite> article, which first kindled
her suspicions, and led her to conclude that her child was the victim
referred to. Stead’s avowed object in this was to show the Jury that
unless Armstrong had really sold her child, and had therefore <em>a guilty
conscience</em>, it was strange for her to alight on the “Lily” paragraph as
referring to herself and her daughter.</p>
<p class='c009'>Thereupon the Judge stopped Stead with this remark:—“I
suppose you will contend by and by that this child was sold, and that,
knowing that, you took it to rescue it from evil. I suppose that is
the story that will be told; but <em>it does not appear to me that the question
of what passages caused her to identify ‘Lily’ as her daughter will help
the defence you must by and by set up</em>.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Now, it must be obvious to every impartial person that if Stead
could have shown by the witnesses’ evidence that there was not sufficient
in the article to justify her in assuming “Lily” was her daughter
<em>unless she had a guilty knowledge of the transaction described</em>, he
would have rebutted one of the charges brought against him. And
yet the Judge checked the examination!</p>
<p class='c009'>The Judge waited until this point had been further pressed upon
Armstrong by Stead, and then remarked to Stead:—“I think you
have got <em>enough</em> now to enable you to urge upon the Jury that the
conduct of Mrs. Armstrong was not consistent with that of an honest
and affectionate mother.”</p>
</div>
<p class='c009'>All this seemed to have slipped out of the
memory of the Judge when he pleaded so tenderly
<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>for these witnesses, saying that there were certainly
some discrepancies in their evidence; but what could
they expect from poor ignorant women under severe
cross-examination? The same leniency was not
asked for by the Judge in the case of Rebecca,
whose “discrepancies” were of a somewhat different
nature from those of the witnesses above
named.</p>
<p class='c008'>Now, regarding that terrible falsehood of which so
much has been said—and which, as Rebecca said, was
forced out of her by the Prosecution, in order to discredit
the whole of her evidence—I must give a few
words of explanation, such as they are. The motive
for that lie was one which I have heard several good
men say almost forces one to respect the poor woman.
It will be recollected that certain companions of her
former life—men—had come down to Winchester,
and during a period, from a fortnight to three weeks,
had haunted our neighbourhood and shaken Rebecca’s
nerves and feelings exceedingly by their threats.
These were her former friends and companions of
many years past, bound to her, as she was to them,
by ties of natural affection, which are often exceedingly
strong among the most criminal classes. The
very fact that they are themselves the pariahs
of society sometimes increases that strong affection.
In Rebecca that affection resembles almost the fierce
<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>love of the tigress for those whom her natural instinct
leads her to defend.</p>
<p class='c009'>The following are the facts, which contrast
curiously with the hypothesis of the Attorney-General,
distinctly stated in Court, that “the man Sullivan
was a myth.” The man Sullivan, with others,
believing Rebecca to be in a good position, probably
making money—and fearful that her breach with
them, which she had declared to them must be final,
would lead to inconvenient consequences to themselves—used
threats which, doubtless, they might have
carried out had they had the opportunity. After a
time I reluctantly appealed for protection to the
Winchester police, who acted most kindly towards
us, watching these men, and keeping a kind of guard
over Rebecca.</p>
<p class='c009'>The annoyance continued, however, for some time;
and she became sad and troubled in appearance.
She came to us one day and said, “I have made up
my mind; I can bear it no longer. They are my old
friends, and I am grieved for them; I want them to
turn over a new leaf and be good men. Will you let
me send all my girls from the cottage for the forenoon
to the House of Rest, so as to leave me quietly
alone in the cottage? I will then ask my old friends
in, and have it out with them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>I agreed, though not without some fear, for I had
learned to understand the conflicting motives which
<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>worked in poor Rebecca’s mind—the intense love for
her old friends and relatives, opposed by the inward
vow never to return to them, and to break with all
her past sinful life and companionships.</p>
<p class='c009'>She carried out her plan, however. The men
came in, and sat on chairs placed for them opposite
to her. She spoke to them long and earnestly. She
pleaded with them for their own souls’ sake; she
told them of what God had done for her; she showed
them in the cottage the proofs of the kind of life she
was now living, and of the mission she was carrying
out, under our auspices. They could not mistake the
character of that little home of peace and love—the
Bibles and hymn-books lying about, the texts on the
walls, the neatness, the evidences of industry, the
cheap contrivances to make the poverty of the
place even tasteful and attractive. The men were
touched for the moment. They saw the reality of
what she had stated to them concerning her change
of life. They left her quietly, but not before she
had renewed to them her solemn promise never to
bring them into trouble; and this time the promise
was made, not as formerly, but in the name of the
God whom she had learned to love, and as a Christian
and a changed woman. The men were understood
to receive her assurance as a proof of the
sincerity of her change of heart, their natural feelings
being, “Oh, now that you have turned a good
<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>woman, of course you will show us up.” It must
be apparent how solemn were the feelings in Rebecca’s
heart of the obligation never to harm them by
any revelation made by her or step taken by
her.</p>
<p class='c009'>They afterwards went back from their better state
of mind, and renewed their persecution: and this it
was that decided us to send Rebecca away for a time
from Winchester. A proof of my confidence in her
may be seen in this—that I refused to give up the
mission work and the cottage so long as there was a
hope of her returning to it. I kept a place open for
her; and it was not true, as Inspector Borner endeavoured
to represent it in Court, that she had fled
from fear of discovery, and that the cottage had been
hastily closed. It was not given up for some three
or four weeks later; and Rebecca herself wrote a
letter from Jersey giving detailed advice as to what
she thought we had better do, namely, to send
“Katie” to one situation, “Emily” to another, and so
on: and then, as she said, “Shut up the cottage until
better times.”</p>
<p class='c008'>Bearing in mind Rebecca’s solemn promise, made
as a reformed woman and a Christian, and then following
her to the witness-box on the first day of
cross-examination, we can see how terrible was the
position in which she was placed. She was ignorant
<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>of the old and well-known method of prosecuting
Counsel, to take a poor man or woman whose life has
been a bad one, all through the past years, and drag
out of him or her confessions which the questioner
knows well how to use.</p>
<p class='c009'>The questioner knows perfectly well that there
are points at which the wretched witness will hesitate,
and that he has probably grave reasons for
concealing certain facts about which he is asked;
and so possibly a falsehood is forced out, and then
the prosecutor, in a tone of high and outraged virtue,
points out that not one single word of all that that
perjured witness says can now be believed.</p>
<p class='c009'>We, Rebecca’s friends, saw the device in advance;
we saw the fatal snare laid for her: but she, poor
soul! did not. She answered truly as far as she
could, until it came to the giving of an address
which would have involved <em>others</em> in trouble. Then
there flashed across her the promise made in her
evil days, and the promise made later from better
motives, under her new character. There rose
afresh in her mind the desire that those to whom
she had given her promise should see that a reclaimed
woman would not break her word. She
was standing between two oaths—the first, made to
her old friends; the second, made in the witness-box,
to speak “nothing but the truth.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Reader, were you ever in such a position?—between
<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>two solemn promises, both of which you
desired to keep, but which were opposed the one to
the other? If you ever were, you can feel for this
weak young convert to truth, and you can pity her
weakness. Yes, she told a lie. She looked across
the Court at me with an expression on her pale face
which I shall never forget.</p>
<p class='c009'>That night, on returning to her lodgings, she
spent several hours on her knees, weeping as if her
heart would break; no word of consolation availed
for her. It was in vain to try to comfort her. She
cried, and screamed to God, “O God, I have told a
lie; I have perjured myself in the witness-box; I
have lied before the world; I have ruined this cause,
and I have got all my kind friends into trouble!
And yet, O God, Thou knowest <em>why</em> I did it—oh,
Thou knowest <em>why</em> I did it. Look into my heart;
Thou knowest why I did it!”</p>
<p class='c009'>She was very stupid—very blundering. What
she ought to have done was, on the first day of
cross-examination to refuse, as she did on the second
day, to give any evidence at all concerning years long
passed, which had nothing whatever to do with the
case of Eliza Armstrong. She was not sharp enough
to see that. Meanwhile, Inspector Borner had been
sent down by the Government to the places mentioned,
and came back with the triumphant news
that she had given a false address.</p>
<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>In the witness-box, on the second day, poor
Rebecca, seeing the snare into which she had fallen,
in a voice full of pain, said to the Attorney-General:</p>
<p class='c009'>“You forced that lie out of me; you make people
tell lies.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Then she took up the attitude which she ought to
have assumed at first, of a distinct refusal to say one
other word concerning her past life.</p>
<p class='c009'>“If you want to know about that,” she said, “you
have got to find it out for yourself.”</p>
<p class='c009'>During the whole of that day she was cross-examined;
she suffering in health, her head aching,
and her brain reeling. Any one who has ever been,
for only a quarter of an hour, under the ruthless cross-examination
of a Government Prosecutor, knows
something of what it is. With all the desire in the
world to speak the exact truth, one feels one may be
any moment tripped up, especially by the repeated
demand to answer, “Yes or No;” a demand which
sometimes cannot possibly be obeyed consistently
with truth.</p>
<p class='c008'>I do not attempt to deal in detail with the discrepancies
between the evidence given by Rebecca, concerning
her account given to Mr. Stead of her
transaction in Charles Street, and Mr. Stead’s own
account of that given in the <cite>Pall Mall Gazette</cite>. I
must say that those discrepancies do not seem to me
<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>so very extraordinary as the Judge or the Attorney-General
appeared to believe them to be. Let us
recall the circumstances.</p>
<p class='c009'>I saw Mr. Stead frequently during the time of his
“descent into hell.” I say now, as I have said before,
that that man combines the deepest tenderness
of a compassionate woman with the manly indignation
and wrath of a man—a father, whose feelings are
outraged by crimes committed against innocent
maidens, the helpless, and the young. At the time
that he was making his investigations, those who saw
him were sometimes almost afraid for his reason.
He scarcely slept. We know what his nights were,
when he, a pure-minded man, nurtured in the most
refined and sternly Christian home, was going through
the agony of visiting the infamous houses of the
West End, where the leaders of the conspiracy of
gold and lust reign triumphant. He was night after
night seeing sights which made his brain reel and his
heart bleed. At times he was tempted to give up all
faith in God, in justice, in the atoning sacrifice, and
the love of Christ.</p>
<p class='c009'>“It is a sham,” he would cry, “a horrible sham,
the whole of our professed Christianity and civilization.”</p>
<p class='c009'>He felt as a man walking on the thin crust of a
burning volcano, which might at any moment break
under the feet of our people and let them down into
<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>the gulf beneath. His eyes were like burning coals
within his brain. He had to pass rapidly from one
part of his work to another with scarcely any interval
of rest. He himself has confessed he did not take
notes at the time of his conversation with Rebecca.
An interval of some weeks passed before he wrote
the story, which he, however, confidently believed he
was writing truly as from Rebecca’s lips.</p>
<p class='c009'>Rebecca herself, true as steel at her heart, was, as
Mr. Stead has said, “muddled and confused in brain.”
The troubles and long illnesses of her past life have
not left her with the best of memories or the clearest
power of expression. Between those two there arose
some confusion in the recital of certain facts; but to
me it appears that these facts were not vital to the
case. She distinguished between the terms “brothel”
and “bad house,” and Mr. Stead did not. Mr. Stead
stated that she told him a certain house was a brothel.
In the witness-box she said, “No, it was not; but it
was a ‘bad house.’” The one term in her mind represented
a house where immoral persons reside for
immoral purposes; the other more of the character
known in France as a house of assignation.</p>
<p class='c009'>But the lines between the two expressions were
not to her so distinct as they might seem to the
learned Judge; nor, indeed, are they at all clearly
defined by the police in their occasional raids upon
the vices of the poor, and their more than occasional
<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>overlooking of the houses of ill-fame to which
rich and high-placed profligates resort. The police
apply these terms with remarkable freedom, in accordance
with certain principles which guide them in
their official action.</p>
<p class='c009'>While Rebecca was speaking, in answer to the
Judge, of her old friend Broughton, she had, I believe,
before her mind the promise she told us had
been made to “Nancy,” that she would not get her
into trouble. This accounts for her evidence against
Nancy having been softened down in the Court, and
thus not wholly agreeing with the description of her
former friend which she had given to Mr. Stead.
Here, again, the motive of regard enters for her
former friends and companions whom she desired to
spare. No one can say, who saw her under that
fearful day of cross-examination, that Rebecca
tried to shelter <em>herself</em>. She was forced in the
most cruel manner to speak of her past life, and
of incidents and shameful things in it which had
no bearing whatever on the present case. But she
did not shrink from what affected herself. Her
wavering began and ended where loyalty to her old
friends came in.</p>
<p class='c008'>In the month of May, while talking to Rebecca of
the way in which God had drawn her out of her
wretched life, I asked her several questions, and she
<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>replied, “I will write some day for you a little history
of my life in my poor way.” “This is just for yourself,”
she said. She did so; and turning over my
papers to-day I find an old copy-book in which there
is the following record in her own handwriting, and
with her own poor defective spelling and grammar.
I give it as it is:—</p>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c002'>
<div>“THE HISTORY OF A RESCUED WOMAN.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c003'>“<span class='sc'>Isaiah</span> lix. 1.—‘Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that
it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear.’</p>
<p class='c004'>“<span class='sc'>Isaiah</span> liv. 7, 8.—‘For a small moment have I forsaken thee;
but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my
face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I
have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer.’</p>
<p class='c008'>“Rebecca Jarrett was born of respectable
parents, her father being a good tradesman; but
through his excessive drinking brought on failure of
business, and early death of the father, the mother
having to struggle hard with seven children. Rebecca
being the youngest, and the only daughter, as would
be expected, the mother lavished a good share of her
love and care on her. This daughter lived at home
with her mother till the age of fifteen, being brought
up in a private school; but the chief thing was neglected
in the bringing up of this daughter—the name
<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>of Jesus was never mentioned, nor a prayer thought
of by this loving mother for her family. So Rebecca
was brought up in ignorance of her Redeemer and
Saviour.</p>
<p class='c009'>“At the age of fifteen she entered into service, but
only stopped one month in her first place, remaining
at home again for seven weeks. Then she was taken
into a good family as housemaid, being tall of stature;
and after living there for five months (she was then a
little over fifteen) she came in contact with one of the
gentlemen visitors, who by flattery and presents led
her to meet him in the evening unknown to her
mistress.</p>
<p class='c009'>“On a Good Friday she went for a day’s holiday to
her home. After having tea with her mother and
brothers, she left that home, not to enter it again for
some years; for that evening, as she was returning
home to her master’s house, she was met by this
deceiver and led away from the path of virtue. By
making some excuses for her absence she was taken
back to her place, but still carrying on this sin till
she could hide her state no longer. She was bound
to leave her place. From there she went to Southampton,
where she was met by this gentleman, who
accompanied her to St. Helier’s, Jersey, where she was
left alone by him to get over her trouble under the
care of a Frenchwoman.</p>
<p class='c009'>“In January a little girl was born. She was then
<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>taken to Fairfield, in Derbyshire, with her child, where
she lived for two years with this man as his mistress,
till another child was born. He then took her to
Manchester and placed her in a house of ill-fame to
get a living for herself and her two children, which
she did for twelve months, carrying on a sinful career
and giving way to drink and all kinds of vice.</p>
<p class='c009'>“She afterwards met with an accident from a
fall, by which she sustained the injury to her hip
which lamed her for life. She was laid up for
a considerable time in an infirmary. On leaving
the infirmary, she found that her two children
had been taken away from her; the father claimed
one, and the other died. This loss of her children
broke that young woman’s heart. The one
was put away in some school which she could not
trace. They kept it from her, as they said she was
leading a bad life, and was, therefore, not a fit mother
to have the charge of her children. About that time
she was advised to go into a Home; but her heart
was turned to bitterness on finding herself scorned
by all who knew her, and the one thing she had been
longing for and living for, she had been deprived of—to
hear the voice of her children. One fond word
from them would have woke up her mother’s heart
within her, and made her try to do better. To feel
their little arms around her neck once again, and to
hear them call her ‘mother’ once again! Though they
<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>were the children of sin, yet she had a mother’s love
for them; but they were gone from her for ever.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Some kind hands were put out to help her then,
but she refused all help, and returned with her mother
to London, where she drowned her sorrow in drink.
She afterwards made several attempts to begin again
a respectable life, but fell from one sin to another.
She then met with a man who took her about as his
wife. He was a commercial traveller, but he could
not give her the peace and rest which her heart was
longing for; and from this time she entered still further
into sin by taking four more of her poor sisters,
to join her in her sinful career of life. Oh, my kind
friends, where was God during all this time not to
awaken her up? Why was her heart so hardened not
only for herself, but to lead her younger sisters into
sin?</p>
<p class='c009'>“It would have been well if her sins were ended
here; but they did not. For after awhile a larger
house was taken, and more poor girls were taken
in. What horror to think that she was the cause of
many of those poor girls being introduced into a
life of sin and vice; some of them leaving their
homes—father and mother, perhaps, far away
in the country; some led away by false deceivers,
who, to gain their purpose, bring them to these
houses.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The girls thus brought in are led to believe they
<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>are being taken to some of their friends, and when
they enter they find the house filled with poor unfortunates;
and then with drink they are soon overpowered,
and the seducer gains his purpose. After
this the poor girls mostly feel there is no rise for
them now; they dare not let their friends know what
has happened; so they stop where they are, and give
themselves up to an evil life. The great condemnation
is for that landlady to encourage such sin. Such
is the history of Rebecca Jarrett.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Once a poor girl came from Exeter, and having
lost her situation, came to Rebecca to live where she
was. She afterwards caught cold; but no notice
was taken of it, till at last the doctor was sent for.
Inflammation of the lungs was pronounced to be
very bad, till she found she could not get over it.
She then thought of her Sunday-school and her aged
parents. She asked Rebecca to pray; but no one in
that house knew how to pray, and could not do so.
Her parents were sent for from Exeter; but she was
dead when they came. She died the same morning,
and with no prayer offered up for her. Rebecca
cannot now bear to think of the day when that father
and mother came to witness that loved daughter
dead in that house.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You can guess what were the feelings of Rebecca,
who had led her into sin, when she saw the look of
that father and mother, who knew that she had
<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>helped their daughter to her sinful career. What
sharp remorse, and what despair she felt! Will God
ever forgive her? For that one soul did she not
deserve to be cast down in her sins? But she did
not listen to the voice of God even then, her heart
was so hardened; she still went on in her sins.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I fancy I can hear you say, ‘It was time
she was cut down,’ but Jesus Christ did not think
so. She was taken from London to Northampton
by a man, leaving her house in the care of her
mother and brothers, who had come to live
with her. She had been a week at Northampton,
when she was down ill of bronchitis. The doctor
came and ordered her to keep her room. She was
left a great deal alone at that time. And now it was
that God began to awaken her from the sleep of
death in which she had been for thirteen long years,
‘having her understanding darkened, being alienated
from the life of God through the ignorance that was
in her, because of the blindness of her heart; who,
being past feeling, had given herself over to lasciviousness,
to work all uncleanness with greediness’
(Eph. iv. 18). ‘Behold, these three years I come
seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it
down; why cumbereth it the ground? Lord, let it
alone this year also’ (Luke xiii. 7).</p>
<p class='c009'>“Rebecca was very ill, and no one to look to her,
except the landlady of the lodging, who belonged to
<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>the Salvation Army; and by her speaking to the
Captain of the Northampton Corps, unknown to
Rebecca, she came to visit her. Rebecca was extremely
rude to her at her first and second visits, but
in consequence of her loving care and attention to
her while she was so ill, she allowed her to come
often; but she would not listen to the message of
salvation which the Captain wished to give her.</p>
<p class='c009'>“Still this noble woman would not be daunted in
the work for her Master. She got Rebecca to go and
live with her in her own house, and as she found that
talking was of no use, she just lived her life of a good
Christian before Rebecca, which made a great impression
on her; so that at last she consented to come
up to London to Mrs. Bramwell Booth’s Refuge.</p>
<p class='c009'>“She got very unsettled again, and longed to go
back to her old home; but dear Mrs. Booth prevailed
with her, though it sometimes took many hours’
pleading and praying for her: and even then she was
not saved. But the great conflict had begun. She
was rescued the 21st December. In the following
January, while at Mrs. Booth’s, she came across
some of her old companions, who pressed her to go
home, with the excuse that her mother was ill and
the house going out of order.</p>
<p class='c009'>“On the 14th January they noticed her packing her
box, and began to question her about the meaning of
it; and she told them she was going back home again.
<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>Mrs. Bramwell Booth spent the whole of the morning,
and the next day, pleading with her; but it
seemed of no use. In the afternoon the kind friends
still would not give her up. Dear Mrs. Booth, Miss
Sapsworth, and all of them, kneeled around her as a
last resource. They gave her into God’s hands, and
asked Him not to let her go, for the sake of her own
soul, and for the sake of the poor girls whom she
had kept in her house.</p>
<p class='c009'>“The conflict was great, for Rebecca had to give
up her home and relatives, and to cast herself, entirely
dependent, on the hands of strangers. But God was
strong to deliver, and He helped the kind friends; for
at five o’clock that day, after seven hours of prayer
and pleading, God gave the victory, and Rebecca fell
down at the feet of Christ Jesus and acknowledged
her misery and sin. And He who had watched over
her during all these years of sin took her that night
and washed her in his own precious blood from every
stain.</p>
<p class='c009'>“After this Rebecca was taken ill, and had to go to
hospital. Mrs. Booth thought it was best for her to
leave London, as she had a bad hip, and they sent
her to Mrs. Butler’s hospital Home at Winchester to
rest for a time, and get her away from all her friends
in London; as her own mother and brothers would
be looking to her for support, and the man she
had lived with, and others, were doing all they could
<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>to get her to come back. This made her new course
of life very difficult. She was more than two months
in the hospital (House of Rest), but was often wavering
and unsettled in mind.”</p>
<p class='c008'>Rebecca goes on to tell of a deepening of the
work of grace in her own soul; especially speaking
of a day in April, when, after many hours of inward
conflict, she rose from her knees with a beaming face.
She then continues:—</p>
<p class='c008'>“Till then Rebecca had always had the idea
when she prayed that she was speaking to God, but
that He was far away from her; but on this day
in April it was different. She felt as if she had that
day met with Jesus, and she has kept closer to Him
since that day. ‘God be thanked, that ye were
the servants of sin, but ye have obeyed from the
heart that form of doctrine which was delivered you.
Being then made free from sin, ye became the servants
of righteousness’ (Rom. vi. 17).</p>
<p class='c009'>“After staying awhile longer in the Winchester
House of Rest, God put it into Miss Humbert’s heart
to go out into the streets at night and seek those
poor fallen girls. So on the first Saturday night
after this Miss Humbert took Rebecca with her to
try and undo some of the evil she had done, by
speaking to her poor lost sisters in the streets and in
the public-houses. (Rebecca, who had been very
<span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>lame from hip disease, recovered the power of walking
somewhat suddenly during a time of earnest
prayer that God would heal her completely; and after
this she walked without fatigue for many hours a day
in her mission work.) Twelve of those girls were
spoken to on the first night of the mission, and on
the following Monday were visited in their homes;
and from that time Rebecca went on working for her
poor sisters.</p>
<p class='c009'>“A cottage, to which we gave the name of ‘Hope
Cottage,’ was got for her, so that Rebecca could take
her poor sisters home with her when she rescued
them; and, thank God, one was rescued from a bad
house after two years of a sinful life, even before they
had got the furniture into the cottage. A week later
another was brought in who had been leading a sinful
life fourteen years. She was broken down in
body; but God called her at the eleventh hour to give
up all sin, and give herself to Him. Another and
another was got in; and then some of these rescued
ones went down to Portsmouth and visited over forty
houses of ill-fame. They got their poor sisters to
come home with them to their lodging, and gave
them tea, and afterwards spoke to them about God.
They might have got some of these poor girls to
have stopped altogether if they had only had a
place to bring them to. Some under the age of
fourteen were carrying on the life of prostitution,
<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>sometimes in company with men over forty years of
age—old enough to be their grandfathers.</p>
<p class='c009'>“You, dear friends, who read this history will
hardly realize it is true; but you have a living witness
of the truth of it. This is not written in order
to speak of the sinful past; but to encourage Christian
friends to help the poor rescued ones on their new
life—for the struggle is hard. No one knows but
those who have gone through it.</p>
<p class='c009'>“I would like to say it was not the being shut
up in a Home for a length of time that won Rebecca,
or brought her to God. It was the love
and kindness of those around her. If love and
kindness will not bring them to God, no locking
up in a Home will. Often on our visits we hear
the girls tell us they have been in such and such a
Home; and when they get out they have again sunk
as deep in sin. Dear friends, speak to these poor
creatures, and tell them you love them, and let them
see that you love them; and then they will believe
in God’s love. I write this from my own experience;
this is how I was won for Jesus by my friends in Winchester
and London: not by preaching to, but by
their love for me—a poor, miserable sinner, scorned
by all men.”</p>
<p class='c008'>To this account of herself I must add—what Rebecca
cannot so well tell—some details of the work
<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>she did in Winchester. It was from my observation
of her, and her influence amongst the most degraded
of men and women, that I conceived the idea of
a little Mission School of reclaimed women, who
might be trained to go forth to seek and save the lost
of their own sex. So far as we were able to carry
out this idea, we found it wonderfully fruitful; and
I do not mean to lose sight of it on account of a
temporary check.</p>
<p class='c009'>Rebecca’s influence here was something extraordinary.
Her love and pity for the worst sinners
were genuine and unbounded. She shrank from
nothing that might have been repulsive or difficult
to a more refined or less loving nature. She went
straight into the worst and lowest dens of infamy,
choosing frequently for her most arduous work the
Saturday night, when drunkenness most prevails. She
would stand in the midst of a den full of men and women
of the lowest type, get them down on their knees,
pray with them and for them, and teach them to
pray; and when other persuasions failed, she related
to them what she herself had been, and what God
had done for her.</p>
<p class='c009'>The reality of what she thus recorded struck
home; many faces turned to her in wonder, and the
fact that she had been one of themselves and now
ardently desired their salvation, seemed to have a
power to win their hearts and to overcome their
<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>incredulity, beyond any power which the words of a
more blameless person might have had. Her influence
was great with those low drunken men who
abound in towns where the Contagious Diseases
Acts have been in force; lazy scoundrels who disdain
work, and live upon the prostitution of those poor
creatures (formerly Government prostitutes), whom
they tyrannize over, and often treat most cruelly.
One of these, who afterwards attended our meetings
like a man “clothed, and in his right mind,” came
lately, on hearing of her visit to Winchester, to express
his gratitude to her for what she had done for
him.</p>
<p class='c009'>A man and his wife, who had kept a notorious house
of ill-fame for a great number of years in Winchester,
were persuaded by her to give up their house,
and induced even to co-operate with her in helping
some of the inmates to a better life; and they
themselves, yielding to her persuasion, took rooms
near her, not far from the cottage. Their evil
house was closed, and remains closed to this
day. This place had withstood the repeated efforts
of the police and of philanthropists; and at last
succumbed to the simple persuasions and strong
love of this poor woman—the same who during
the recent weeks has been made the object
of the fullest vocabulary of scorn, hatred, and
contempt.</p>
<p class='c009'><span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>The man and his wife, above referred to, hearing
that Rebecca was with us for a few days in the interval
between the hearing at Bow Street and the
trial at the Old Bailey, came to us begging that
they might “just see her here for one moment to say,
‘God bless you,’” and added, “for what should we
have been but for her?”</p>
<p class='c008'>I must again mention Mary ——, to whom I
recently referred in speaking at Exeter Hall. She
was a handsome woman, of superior intelligence and
nature, who had lived in great sin, and was bound in
that life by affection to a man who, though not worthy
of it, seemed to exercise a strange spell over her.
Week after week, Rebecca pleaded with her in the
streets, with tears and most earnest entreaties; and at
last she prevailed. The poor woman came, suffering
and ill, to Hope Cottage, too ill indeed to be properly
received there; but Rebecca welcomed her, and she was
put into an upper room, and nursed with the utmost
tenderness and unwearying love by Rebecca, in circumstances
which to most people would have been
almost intolerable. It was one of those cases in which
the sufferer becomes a mass of corruption before death.
The inhabitants of the neighbouring cottages were
so annoyed that they made a formal complaint: in
consequence of which it became necessary at last to
remove her to the pest-house of the Union, where she
<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>died. But during her sojourn with Rebecca, this poor
Mary —— thought she was “in heaven.” The love
of the woman who did everything for her with her
own hands, although faint from the sickening odour
of the wounds she had to dress, won that poor soul.
She saw what the Saviour of sinners was, through the
faint likeness of Him reflected in this poor Rebecca.
She accepted the message of salvation which Rebecca
brought to her.</p>
<p class='c009'>We were obliged to take precautions, and remove
other inmates from the house. Rebecca felt constantly
sick, but never uttered the slightest expression
of disgust; and if her task was spoken of to her
as a sacrifice, she repudiated the idea, and said,
“Oh no, I would do anything for her; I love her so
much.”</p>
<p class='c008'>When these things passed before my mind in the
Law Court, during the five long hours of summing
up, in the course of which the most dishonourable
epithets were applied to this “disgusting and abominable
woman,” I again recalled that scene in the
Temple, where a sinful woman stood in the midst of
a crowd of accusers; and I thought, If the Lord Jesus
Christ had entered that Court of Law, and standing in
the midst, had said to all present, from the highest
to the lowest, “Let him that is without sin among
you cast the first stone at her”—would any have
<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>moved? How many would have left the Court?
How many would have remained? Rebecca Jarrett’s
vindication has yet to come. <em>But it will come.</em>
I wondered if such an act of self-sacrificing love could
ever come even within the range of the imagination
of many in that Court; and I remembered that there
is a God in heaven, who, while man’s condemnation
was falling so crushingly on her, was not and will
not be unmindful of “her labour of love.”</p>
<p class='c008'>The success of the mission on which I sent
Rebecca to Portsmouth, accompanied by two of her
rescued friends, who were being trained in the Cottage,
has been testified to by others resident there,
who continued to write urging us to allow her to come
again. I take a few extracts from the little Journal
which she kept at that time at my request. It is
headed by the words, “Is not the Lord gone out
before thee?”</p>
<p class='c009'>“May 4th.—Took lodgings in Portsmouth. Went
to a Salvation Army meeting. Asked God for fresh
courage for the work.</p>
<p class='c009'>“May 5th.—A wet day. Plenty of work for us.
Visited in —— ——, No. 27, Mrs. S—— and
three girls; Mrs. P——, No. 28; Mrs. T——, No.
29, a Roman Catholic, and three girls. Spoke to
two; one promised to come to us. Visited Nos. 31,
37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42. No. 44, full of girls.</p>
<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>“May 6th.—Went visiting the ‘bad houses’ three
hours in the afternoon. Katie and Mrs. S—— spoke
to five; and I and Katie went for three hours
at night to Queen Street. Stopped about nine
girls. Spoke and prayed in the evening meeting
of the Salvation Army.”</p>
<p class='c008'>The same kind of report follows of May 7th,
giving addresses of ten houses visited.</p>
<p class='c009'>Similar reports for following days.</p>
<p class='c009'>At the end of the mission, when they left Portsmouth—where
they were most lovingly helped by
Salvation Army friends—some of these poor girls
followed them to the station with grateful offerings
of humble bouquets of flowers, wishing them
God-speed. They quickly recognized those who
really loved them.</p>
<p class='c008'>My own relations with Rebecca are illustrated by
the following letter, written by me to her at Portsmouth.
I find it among her little treasures left
behind with me:—</p>
<div class='lg-container-r c002'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>The Close</span>,</div>
<div class='line in12'>“<em>May</em>.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“<span class='sc'>My dearest Rebecca</span>,—We have read with deep
interest all your letters; and our hearts are following you
with love and earnest prayer. I know the state of Portsmouth
must make your heart sick with sorrow to see vice
<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>reigning unrebuked, and souls perishing unrescued. The
town is so large; ‘the fields are white to the harvest, but
the labourers are few.’ Don’t let yourself run short of
<em>needful</em> money, my dear, so long as you think you can usefully
remain where you are; for I am sure our God will
supply <em>me</em> with the needful funds. I deeply sympathize
with your wish to go and preach Jesus to your former acquaintances
in London; but you must come back here first,
dear Rebecca. The Cottage and the work do not seem at
all the same thing when you are away. Give my dear love
to Katie. I am so happy in thinking of you. Every
blessing be with you.</p>
<div class='lg-container-r'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>J. E. Butler.</span>”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The following is an extract from one of her letters
to my friend and secretary, Miss Humbert, about the
same time:—</p>
<p class='c008'>“My heart is set upon the Winchester work. You have
led me on wonderfully in God’s service, which I never could
have done without your help. We shall be at Winchester
at 3.42. I have two girls, I think, coming; one a little
girl of 14.<a id='r2'></a><a href='#f2' class='c010'><sup>[2]</sup></a> We are taking her from one of the worst
streets here. There are three sisters. We have begged the
mother to let them come home with us; but they will only
let this one come. All three are living in sin. And we
have another, I think, of 20 years of age. We believe we
<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>shall not come home empty-handed. Last night one of the
poor girls brought me two lovely bunches of flowers and a
nice geranium in a pot, and she says she will come to Winchester
to me; but she has got to sell her house. I have a
lot to tell you when I come home.”</p>
<div class='footnote' id='f2'>
<p class='c008'><a href='#r2'>2</a>. In future Rescue Work of this kind, we must, <em>if Mr. Justice Lopes
rightly interprets the law</em>, be on our guard to obtain the formal consent
of the <em>father</em> before any child is taken out of the life of sin. We have
always believed the mother’s consent was enough.</p>
</div>
<p class='c009'>As the summer went on, Rebecca expressed the
feeling sometimes that some severe discipline was in
store for her. She wrote in July to Miss Humbert:—</p>
<p class='c008'>“I feel there is some trouble coming. I could wish
now I had never left my home and undertaken this other
affair. I love you all very much. Do you think it would
be best to shut up the Cottage for a time? I have left them
no money; for I had only 5s. If you will look at my books,
I only owe the baker for the bread; he never brought his
book. I wish I had you with me this afternoon to hear
your loving words.</p>
<div class='lg-container-r'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“Your grateful, rescued,</div>
<div class='line in20'>“<span class='sc'>Rebecca</span>.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>The Attorney-General made much of the idea
he had conceived, which indeed has no foundation
in fact—that Rebecca undertook the work she
did for Mr. Stead, because she knew that her whole
future depended on her doing it. “She knew,” declared
the Attorney-General, “that she would lose
her position with Mrs. Butler;” her future with Mr.
Stead would be damaged; her whole prospects in life
ruined—unless she did this thing. In this, as in many
<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>other assertions, Sir R. E. Webster is absolutely wrong.
Rebecca had nothing either to gain or to lose by
undertaking the work of Mr. Stead. The pressure
put upon her was far from being what the Attorney-General
asserted it to be. I said in my evidence in
the Court (but it was not reported in any newspaper)
that Rebecca had lived sufficiently long with me to
have learned to share my convictions and wishes concerning
the mass of criminal vice existing in London
and other places.</p>
<p class='c009'>Many a conversation have we had together in my
own room or elsewhere on this subject; and in our
prayers together we have asked God to let in the
light upon this mass of wickedness, hitherto carefully
shrouded by the conspirators of greed and lust. She
had wept before me over the sufferings of the children;
and when it was told her that Mr. Stead was about
to take some desperate action to draw the veil aside
and overcome the worst obstacle we had found opposed
to us in the last fifteen years—namely, the
incredulity of good people as to the existence of
these crimes—she was ready to do her little best to
help in the great work. We were as sisters together,
not “employer and employed”—as reiterated by the
Attorney-General and the Judge. She never received
one penny of pay from me, nor from any one here,
nor from Mr. Stead. I placed her here in the humble
cottage, and gave her work to do; when her boots or
<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>her gown were worn out I may have supplied her
with some of my own old clothing, as she always
wished to have a neat appearance: and I can testify
to the fact that the comforts and adornments of the
cottage were of a very humble description; the food
was very plain, and the economy exercised by Rebecca
was severe. I have all her little account-books
before me as I write; and it is touching to me to
mark her strict conscientiousness over every penny
spent, and her plans for saving, even perhaps to the
disadvantage of herself and her girls, as much as
possible.</p>
<p class='c009'>She had nothing to lose or gain by undertaking
the work for Mr. Stead, which proved to be too hard
for her. I had her with me for several hours previous
to her going to London, and we talked the matter
fully over: we asked God to guide us; and to this
hour I believe He did guide us, in spite of our mistakes.
If Rebecca had said, on leaving the room that
day, “Mrs. Butler, I cannot undertake this work,” I
should have replied, “All right, dear Rebecca, don’t
attempt it. Go back to your work at the Cottage.”
She would not have incurred one moment’s displeasure
from me; and she knew it.</p>
<p class='c009'>I here interpose a remark. It may be asked,
What induced me to unite with Mr. Stead in making
use of so poor an instrument, so young a convert,
and one with so terrible a past history, for the
<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>difficult work for which we engaged her? To this I
reply that Mr. Stead needed for his purpose an “ex-brothel-keeper:”
that was the character he told me
he must have. He had tried several, who professed
more or less of sincerity. They each at the very
outset got drunk, and made off with the needful
money he gave them to carry out his directions.
Supposing that you who ask the question wanted for
an end—which certainly was a holy, though a desperate
one—such a character as this, where would
you turn? Is such a person easy to find for such a
work? Is it usual to find one who would have
combined anything like a wish to serve a good cause
with the experience of a disreputable past? It must
be obvious to you how difficult it was to find the
person wanted.</p>
<p class='c009'>I do not wish to make any excuse for my own
share in the hardihood and imprudence to which I
am ready to confess, and of which I was guilty in
asking Rebecca to undertake this difficult work; but
in an exceptional enterprise we were forced to use
exceptional means; and I can echo the words of Mr.
Stead, that even our mistakes and want of wisdom
have been, and will be, overruled for the success of
the great cause we have at heart.</p>
<p class='c009'>Supposing we had seen a house in flames, and we
knew that in that house were shut up a number of
little children who must perish unless the doors were
<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>broken open. The doors are barred: no entrance
can be effected except by a violent blow. We seize
the first instrument we find to our hand in the attempt
to break open the door; but the instrument is too
feeble, and breaks in our hands. Will you blame us
because of that fact?—or will you not rather remember
that one thought alone was present to our minds; and
that was the horrible fate that awaited those children,
and that our hearts were filled with the one absorbing
desire to save them?</p>
<p class='c008'>Rebecca continued her Mission work in Winchester
with success, after the incident of the procuring
of Eliza Armstrong, up to the 11th July, when she
left Winchester.</p>
<p class='c008'>Much was said in the Court about the letter written
by Rebecca to Broughton on the 10th of June.
It seems to have perplexed many people: to me it
was quite clear. My own friends at least will accept,
as worthy of credit, what I have to say concerning
this; though I expect nothing but derision from
the cynics who posed during the Trial in pretended
astonishment over the hypocrisy of the woman who
professed a desire for the real good of a person who
had sold her child.</p>
<p class='c009'>I had followed Rebecca’s inmost thoughts and
mind during all this period. She felt that in acting
the part imposed upon her, she had, perhaps, done
<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>an unkind thing. Day after day her yearning after
little Eliza became more intense. I said to her on
one occasion, “You seem to have an extraordinary
love for that child; how is it?”</p>
<p class='c009'>She replied, “The child and I have gone through
so much together—through such strange scenes: and
I do long to have her with me, to act straight towards
her and her poor mother, and to show
them what I really am, and what I feel towards
them.”</p>
<p class='c009'>I can attest that, beyond all doubt, poor Rebecca
dwelt night and day upon the thought of making the
whole story “end well.” She built a sort of castle in
the air, in which she continually dwelt. Her plan—her
dream—was as follows: To get the child from
Paris; to have her with us here to train and teach
her; then a little later to take her herself to Charles
Street, London, to present her to her mother and
father, and to Mrs. Broughton, and to make use of
her own position towards her—as well as the child’s
well-being—to convince these poor people that she
(Rebecca) was indeed a changed character; and try
to show them that, low and sinful as she knew them
to be, the same Saviour who had changed her could
change them, and enable them to live new lives.</p>
<p class='c009'>We spoke together of a plan of inviting Mrs.
Armstrong to come and stay a few days at the Cottage.
We would, Rebecca hoped, induce her to
<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>give up the drink; and we would show her the happy
life of those who had really turned from their sins,
and were serving God.</p>
<p class='c009'>The end in view, in writing this letter and the subsequent
postcards, was the <em>conversion</em> of these poor
souls. Yes, in spite of all that the Judge, the
Attorney-General, the London Press, and ten thousand
cynics may say, this was the real and true
feeling and purpose of Rebecca’s heart. There are
others, besides myself, who can testify to it.</p>
<p class='c009'>The Attorney-General suggested that I am a weak
and amiable person, who could be made to believe
anything by any poor wretch who chooses to “pose”
before me as a “Magdalen.” I have had a life-long
experience of the most unhappy of my own sex; compared
with which the experience of the gentlemen in
the Court—even the most advanced in life—is that
of mere children. I cannot therefore be surprised at
their crude judgments in the matter. Some of them
expressed wonder at Rebecca having a single kindly
thought toward Mrs. Armstrong. How little do they
know of human nature, in its conflicts, and wrestlings
to free itself from sin, in its flashes of generosity and
high feeling, even in its worst estate! Men of the
world are wise, no doubt, in their generation; but
often blind to much which concerns the spiritual world
and the deepest life of the human soul. My astonishment
was great, as I sat in that Court, at their
<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>own confession of their deep ignorance of human
nature.</p>
<p class='c008'>That letter of the 10th June, then, clumsily
(for Rebecca is clumsy in all her ways and words)
expressed the desire of the writer to prepare the
way for the interview with Mrs. Armstrong and
Mrs. Broughton, which was to be the beginning of
a new chapter in the story; and the beginning,
she hoped, of blessing to their souls. No opportunity
was given me in the Court of throwing any
light on this part—or any part—of her actions,
although I was known to be her most intimate
friend; and we were told, <em>ad nauseam</em>, that the
question of “motive” could not be in any way
admitted.</p>
<p class='c009'>What I here state is confirmed by the letters
written later by Rebecca to Mrs. Bramwell Booth, in
which were the following expressions:—“Her conscience
reproached her,” she said, “for leaving the
child alone among a lot of foreigners.” “I am a
mother myself, and have a mother’s heart. I loved
this little one as a mother does.” And the little one
loved her; and would have been well cared for if she
had been left in Rebecca’s hands.</p>
<p class='c008'>I do not here enter into the details of the alleged
“abduction” process, of which we have heard enough
<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>and more than enough of contradictory statements
and conflicting views.</p>
<p class='c009'>Among the incidents connected with the Old
Bailey, I will just mention, however, a conversation
I had with Mrs. Bramwell Booth at the close of
one of the most painful days in Court. I quote
only from memory: her words were true and wise
words.</p>
<p class='c009'>Leaning sadly against a window, looking out on
the Court, she said to me: “Oh, Mrs. Butler, how
little do these men know of the lives of the <em>very poor</em>!
How little do they understand what it is for a poor
creature to free himself or herself from vicious surroundings
and the wretched past! and how little do
they know of God’s patient dealing with such souls
struggling out of darkness to light!”</p>
<p class='c009'>“Our heathen in England,” I replied, “are in the
position of the heathen converts to whom St. Paul
wrote as ‘dearly beloved in the Lord,’ and ‘called to
be saints.’ Yet shortly afterwards he has to instruct
these same people in the first principles of morality.
‘Let him that stole steal no more.’ Men must be
honest, and work, and not live by rapine. He has
to rebuke them both for vices and crimes, such as
incest, and for drunkenness while partaking of the
sacrament.”</p>
<p class='c009'>“No,” she answered: “our highly-placed, worldly-wise
gentlemen have no real experience of the
<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>ignorant, wretched populations of heathen England;
else they would know that even when the heart of
one of these is thoroughly turned to God, perfectly
sincere, and meaning to lead a new life, the conscience
still is for long enough covered with the rust
of past evil habits. They are strangers—absolute
strangers—to the ethics of Christianity in which we,
more happily placed, have been carefully trained
from childhood. The conscience, even after conversion,
has to be trained and polished, so to speak.
To us a lie, or even the approach to prevarication, is
a thing which we carefully avoid and condemn in
ourselves. To them, accustomed to lie, cheat, swear,
etc., during their whole lives, it is not so easy—even
after the poor soul has come out into the
light, and is filled with the joy of salvation—to
shake off the habits of falsehood and prevarication.
It is in vain to expect the full education of a
trained Christian in such converts drawn from the
slums.”</p>
<p class='c009'>Mrs. Booth continued:—“I think they would
judge differently of the sincerity of Rebecca, if they
could have seen her as I have seen her in the first
weeks after her rescue. I have stood over her and
wiped the great drops of perspiration from her forehead,
when for hours she has wrestled in a kind of
death-grip with her old temptation—the love of
strong drink. Once she had obtained a glass of
<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>spirits after some hours of depressing faintness and
exhaustion through her self-imposed abstinence.
With this standing before her, she prayed in an
agony; I watched her, prayed with her, and pleaded
for her; and she conquered, and thrust it from her.
This may seem a little thing to persons who have
never been slaves to drink; but it is not a small
thing; it is a test of a real and desperate sincerity in
one who has been a subject of that raging passion.”</p>
<p class='c008'>The following little note was written to me by
Rebecca in the Old Bailey, and passed along to
me:—</p>
<div class='lg-container-r c002'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>The Dock</span>,</div>
<div class='line in4'>“<em>November 7th.</em></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Mrs. Butler</span>,—I do thank you very much for
your love and kindness to me during all this time of trouble;
and more especially for your confidence in me after all the
terrible things you have heard said of me by the Prosecution
in this Court. I am not at all flinching from the punishment
which will be put upon me. God will be with me in prison,
and with all of us. What we did was done for a good end;
and God will stand by us all. But think of me; pray for
me. You know how unwilling I was to do all that; but I do
not mind what people think of me. God knows all about
it. Remember me very kindly to Canon Butler, and to all
I know at Winchester—Miss Humbert, Mrs. Hillier, Mrs.
Jones. My love and deepest gratitude to yourself and your
sister, Mrs. Meuricoffre. God bless you.</p>
<div class='lg-container-r'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“From your <span class='sc'>Rebecca</span>.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>Canon Butler, to whom she alludes with affection,
has often testified to his good opinion of her. He
writes of her thus, in response to an application from
a friend:—</p>
<div class='lg-container-r c002'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>The Close, Winchester</span>,</div>
<div class='line in16'>“<em>November, 1885</em>.</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c009'>“I hear that Rebecca Jarrett is likely to suffer from
prison treatment. I cannot refrain from expressing a hope
that she maybe treated with all possible leniency during her
imprisonment, for the following reasons:—</p>
<p class='c009'>“(1.) She has suffered for some time from a weak hip,
which frequently troubled her when she was at the House
of Rest.</p>
<p class='c009'>“(2.) Because, when she was at Winchester, her conduct
was excellent, both as matron of a small cottage with
several girls under her charge, and as an active agent in
rescue work.</p>
<p class='c009'>“(3.) Because, whatever may have been her faults, I
believe her to be a sincere convert, and capable of being
usefully employed for Christian work.</p>
<div class='lg-container-r'>
<div class='linegroup'>
<div class='group'>
<div class='line'>“<span class='sc'>George Butler</span>, D.D.,</div>
<div class='line in8'>“<em>Canon of Winchester</em>.”</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c008'>I brought Rebecca home with me on the night of
the 7th, after the verdict. On Sunday, the 8th, we
had a crowded meeting in our House of Rest, to
express sympathy with her. Canon Butler spoke on
Paul and Silas in prison, singing praises to God at
the midnight hour. Rebecca said, after the meeting:</p>
<p class='c009'>“Don’t trouble about me, kind friends; I don’t
<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>mind the prison. This is how I take it. I have
been a great sinner in the past; and I take this going
to prison as a chastisement for my past, and not for
what I did for Mr. Stead, which I did with a good
motive.”</p>
<p class='c009'>When talking privately to Miss Humbert, she
said, “I have been so tired and knocked about. I
do feel I would like to be alone with God in the
prison, even if it was for a year.”</p>
<p class='c009'>I cannot help alluding, with gratitude, to the
kindness and loyalty of several of the barristers in
the Court—for the most part young men—and to
their personal courtesy to us; to Mr. Read, who has
twice been bail for Rebecca; and to other friends
whom I might mention. I am sure that fortnight
in the Old Bailey was an educating time to
many.</p>
<p class='c009'>Numerous great questions have been focussed in
this bitter struggle; amongst others, the question of the
gradual slipping away of some of our constitutional
liberties, over which many of us have mourned for
years. I made my protest publicly, seven years
ago, against the withdrawal of the prisons of the
country from local control, and the centralization of
their management in the Home Office. I foresaw the
tyranny which might henceforth be practised without
hope of redress; for now, when an abuse arises, or a
prisoner is cruelly treated, we can only appeal from
<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>the wrong-doer to the wrong-doer, from the tyrant to
the tyrant; and we know by experience how little
hope of justice we have when we appeal to the
Government against the wrong-doing of its own
officials.</p>
<p class='c009'>Again, I protested publicly against the institution
of the Public Prosecutor. I know that it is pleaded
that there are occasions when such an institution is
indispensable. It may be so; but I have observed for
many years past on the Continent—and now the same
observation is beginning to hold for England—that in
cases where any question affecting morality or the
action of reformers of abuses is involved, the Government,
through its Public Prosecutor, almost invariably
sides with the vicious against the virtuous—almost
invariably acts in the interests of that portion of
society which seeks to hide abuses by a conspiracy of
silence, by which all hope of reform is barred. We
cherish the hope that, in spite of the encroachment
of principles foreign to the English sense of freedom,
the sacred institution of Jury-trial will continue in
its integrity, and that English Judges will continue
to be impartial and just, as in our past history they
have for the most part been.</p>
<p class='c009'>I can scarcely exaggerate the shock it was to my
feelings, as a humble watcher for many years for my
poor country’s good, to hear that summing up of Mr.
Justice Lopes on Saturday, Nov. 7th, and the tone in
<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>which he repeatedly impressed on the Jury that they
had no alternative but to find a verdict of guilty
against two of the accused. He had previously
ruled out any question of the mother’s authority
in disposing of her child, and based the question
entirely on that of the father; and then, again
and again, he reminded the Jury, that this being
the case, and it being clear that the father’s consent
had not been obtained, they, the Jury, could consequently
pronounce but one verdict. Surely the
country will be on its guard in future as to
what may be expected whenever a Government
prosecution is heard of in connection with any
question of this nature vital to the moral life of the
people.</p>
<p class='c009'>I was also surprised to hear the Judge say more
than once that he did not understand, and was
astonished at, the interest which this case had excited
in the country. It is no defect of intellect which prevents
the appreciation by the Judge of the deep
interest taken in this case by the thousands in our
land who appreciate the vital principles involved in
it. It is the habit of men of the world to look at
all things from the point of view of the conventional
standard of society in which they move—a society
which seems to be becoming yearly more corrupt.</p>
<p class='c009'>I am much mistaken in my reading of physiognomy
if the majority of those Jurymen were
<span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>not themselves surprised at the Judge’s summing
up. I believe them to be honest men, who intended
to be thoroughly just; but they were placed in a
difficult position, the ground having been so narrowed
on which they were to pronounce their verdict, and
having been forced to eliminate from their considerations
all question of motive.</p>
<p class='c009'>It is as true of human law as of Divine law,
that “the letter killeth, but the spirit giveth life.” It
is equally true that, by a blind adherence to technical
formalities, administrators may find themselves acting
in direct opposition to the spirit of the law, while
carrying it out in the letter.</p>
<p class='c009'>Mr. Auberon Herbert justly remarks that the
time for free discussion of the attitude of our judicial
tribunals has come, when the lay sense of justice
and the legal sense of justice diverge. We are a law-abiding
people: hence it is all the more easy for a
Judge, by basing his decisions upon a merely technical
idea of justice, to overawe and unduly influence
for a time the good and moral portion of the community,
so as to produce a temporary verdict outside
the Law Courts which agrees with that inside in condemning
those who have rendered the highest service
to the nation by labouring to make the law more
“honourable.” But that verdict is only temporary.
The real, well-considered verdict of the nation is yet
to come. Present events are educating the people in
<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>regard to their own share of responsibility for the personal
character and acts of our judges and magistrates,
as well as of our representatives in Parliament.</p>
<p class='c008'>William Stead, worn out and ill, has written in
a moment of depression words which I regret in his
farewell leader in the <cite>Pall Mall Gazette</cite>. He speaks
of having had a fair trial; compliments the prosecution;
confesses himself to have been to blame; hopes
that nothing will be done to reverse the sentence.
Against some of these expressions the country will
loyally protest, though we shall readily forgive our
brave and beloved friend for having fallen momentarily
into such a tone.</p>
<p class='c009'>Perhaps Mr. Stead may think that he himself was
courteously treated; but what of the courtesy or even
decent fairness shown in regard to Rebecca, upon
whom the utmost of vituperation permissible in a
Court of Law was vented?</p>
<p class='c008'>In conclusion, I think I scarcely need to say any
word to those who have been my fellow-workers in
the cause of Purity for many years. They, I am
sure, rejoice, as I do, in the midst of all our trouble,
that this question has come fairly to the front, and
that it can never be thrust back again into darkness.
God is using the blindness of our Government, of the
Press, and their supporters, to bring about some great
<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>revolution for good which could not be born without
agonizing birth-pangs. No great thing has ever been
done except through suffering. The Salvation Army
are not wrong in taking for their device the words—“Blood
and Fire.” Revolutionists for God and for
purity must be ready to go through blood and fire.</p>
<p class='c009'>Though for the moment hearts may fail, and the
wicked seem to triumph and sin to have the victory,
already we have our reward in many ways—in
the passing of a better law, and in the partial
check given to the great machinery of criminal
vice, even without the action of the law, by the
publicity given to the machinations of the evildoers.
Surely every one who can move, speak, write, or pray,
will now haste to the rescue. No reticence on the
part of the Public Press, or any other power, will ever
succeed in drawing the veil again over the horrors
which have been once exposed, nor in stifling the cry
of the poor victims.</p>
<p class='c009'>A young girl spoke to me a day or two ago,
having heard of the result of this trial. With despair
in her eye, and bitter scorn on her lips, she spoke in
a low, muffled tone, and said:</p>
<p class='c009'>“I am sure God <em>doesn’t care a bit for girls</em>.
Whenever there is a chance of something being done
for us, and of these wicked men being punished, then
the Government comes and stops it all; and the
good people are punished and frightened, and all the
<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>work is put an end to; and girls are as badly treated
as ever. God lets off the bad rich men so easily, and
doesn’t care for us girls a bit.”</p>
<p class='c009'>I said to her: “Stop, child; have a little patience,
and you will see.” But she only answered in the
same low, bitter, scornful tone: “But we have waited
so long—so long!” Do not let this poor child’s expression
of despair be forgotten. It is typical of what
thousands are realizing, more or less consciously to
themselves. But that God does not care is not true:
and we shall prove it! If justice and judgment linger,
it is only that their triumph may be the more complete.</p>
<p class='c008'>Thousands of hearts and consciences will respond
to the following words of Rev. <span class='sc'>Hugh Price
Hughes</span>:—</p>
<p class='c008'>“While our Government is squandering thousands
in an attempt to ruin the one man to whom we owe a
revolutionary improvement in the law, they are doing
practically nothing to stop the real evil. The police
of our great provincial towns are already effecting
unprecedented moral improvements under Mr. Stead’s
Act. But the 10,000 Metropolitan policemen, under
the direction of the Government, have done nothing
except allow Mrs. Jeffries to escape, rebuke Minahan,
and prosecute Mr. Stead. All the journals which for
fifteen years have never broken their conspiracy of
<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>silence, except to advocate the obscene and iniquitous
Contagious Diseases Acts, are now howling against
Mr. Stead. To each of them, as to Judas Iscariot
of old, it must be said: ‘That thou doest, do quickly.’
‘This is the hour and power of darkness.’ Now is
the time to betray the cause of virtue. Stab away
with your malignant and mendacious articles at the
quivering hearts of pure women and good men.
Hasten to fill up the measure of your iniquity. Jesus
of Nazareth, the Friend of sinners, the Protector of
children, has heard our prayers. The night is far
spent. The long-expected day of Purity and Justice
and Brotherhood is at hand.”</p>
<div class='figcenter id002'>
<img src='images/i_058.jpg' alt='[Logo]' class='ig001'>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c002'>
<div><span class='small'>London: <span class='sc'>Morgan & Scott</span>, 12, Paternoster Buildings.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class='pbb'>
<hr class='pb c005'>
</div>
<div class='border'>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c006'>
<div><span class='xlarge'>REBECCA JARRETT.</span></div>
<div class='c005'>BY</div>
<div class='c005'><span class='large'>JOSEPHINE E. BUTLER.</span></div>
<div class='c002'>PRESS COMMENTS.</div>
</div>
</div>
<p class='c003'>“This little book is one which should be read by all who desire to know the
truth about the recent trial at the Old Bailey. Feelings of respect and sympathy
cannot fail to be called forth towards one so earnest-hearted and devoted
as the writer.”—<cite>British Women’s Temperance Journal.</cite></p>
<p class='c004'>“All fair-minded persons ought to welcome the account of Rebecca Jarrett’s
life, just prepared by Mrs. Josephine Butler. We venture to think that the
perusal of this pathetic sketch will modify those hard and bitter feelings
towards this woman, which some good and sincere people think themselves
justified in cherishing.”—<cite>The Christian.</cite></p>
<p class='c004'>“We beg our readers to purchase at once the little book which Mrs.
Josephine Butler has just issued, entitled ‘<span class='sc'>Rebecca Jarrett</span>.’ It is published
at sixpence by Morgan and Scott. It places Rebecca Jarrett in quite a new
light, and brings out the real character of the recent trial more clearly and
fully than it has been brought out by anybody else.”—<span class='sc'>Rev. Hugh Price
Hughes</span> in <cite>The Methodist Times</cite>.</p>
</div>
<div class='figcenter id002'>
<img src='images/i_endpiece.jpg' alt='[Fleuron]' class='ig001'>
</div>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
<div class='nf-center c006'>
<div>NOW READY.      FOURTH EDITION.</div>
<div class='c005'><em>Handsomely Bound.</em>      <em>Price Six Shillings.</em></div>
<div class='c006'><span class='xlarge'>CATHARINE OF SIENA:</span></div>
<div class='c005'>A BIOGRAPHY.</div>
<div class='c002'>By JOSEPHINE E. BUTLER,</div>
<div class='c005'><em>Author of the “Memoir of John Grey of Dilston,” &c.</em></div>
<div class='c002'>WITH A PORTRAIT ENGRAVED ON STEEL.</div>
<div class='c002'>EXTRACTS FROM REVIEWS.</div>
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<p class='c003'><cite>The Spectator</cite> says—“Mrs. Butler, as we cannot but believe, has achieved
a great success, and of the pages of this remarkable biography it is difficult
to say whether they reflect more strikingly the aspects and events of the
great century in which Catharine lived and laboured, or the personality of the
saint herself.”</p>
<p class='c004'><cite>The Literary World</cite> says—“The story of Catharine of Siena, as told by
Mrs. Butler, presents the saint in such a new light, that it is well worth
reading by those who would turn with weariness from the lives of the saints
as told either by the Bollandists or Benedictines. It teaches us that, as one
man in his time can play many parts, so a life which we are tolerably familiar
with in one aspect may be seen in a totally new light, according as it is
grouped with others or simply studied by itself.... We are ready to admit
that we have made a discovery in reading this life of St. Catharine, and the
discovery is all the more striking since Mrs. Butler has apparently not sat
down with any intention of rehabilitating the fair Sienese saint.”</p>
<p class='c004'><cite>The Dundee Evening Telegraph</cite> says—“We see in the beautiful character
portrayed by the accomplished authoress of this volume a noble, pure and
devoted Christian worker. She visited the forsaken prisoner; she brought
comfort and hope to the lost and abandoned; she visited the sick, and in the
hour when all human help fails and the fairest hopes of earth wither, we see
her holding before the plague-stricken dying people the sacred emblem of
sorrow and of triumph, and pointing undismayed to the unfailing refuge.”</p>
<p class='c004'><cite>The Freeman</cite> says—“No Christian reader will fail to be edified by the
devout spirit and the profound sympathy with all that is noble and heroic in
philanthropy, which pervades both the biographer and the subject of the
biography.”</p>
<p class='c004'><cite>The Christian</cite> says—“We should be glad that all the women of England,
and especially the Christian women, should read this noble life.”</p>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
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<div>LONDON: DYER BROTHERS, PATERNOSTER SQUARE</div>
<div>(CORNER OF ROSE STREET).</div>
<div><em>May be ordered through any Bookseller, or will be sent post-free on receipt of the published price.</em></div>
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<div class='tnotes x-ebookmaker'>
<div class='chapter ph2'>
<div class='nf-center-c0'>
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<div>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</div>
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<ul class='ul_1 c002'>
<li>Typos fixed; non-standard spelling and dialect retained.
</li>
<li>Used numbers for footnotes.
</li>
</ul>
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