When the goods of Elizabeth Berkley were seized at the Fleet Prison, the dispute turned upon far more than an arrear of rent. The question was whether Thomas Bambridge, then Warden of the gaol, had employed lawful process or abused his station to despoil a female prisoner of her furniture and effects. The Crown prosecuted him for felony; Bambridge answered that the distress was levied for rent lawfully due. At the trial of December 1729, the court heard a long recitation of appraisals, burst doors, forced trunks, and precious jewels, regarding which the witnesses failed to agree upon the particulars.
In October 1727, several men presented themselves to make an inventory of Berkley’s chattels. Mention was made of a debt of fifty-six pounds owed by her to Huggins, together with accrued charges. A single appraiser, Turner, was summoned. A tapissier by trade, he was himself a prisoner within the Fleet, lodging but three rooms distant from the prisoner. The chronicler observes that there were not two sworn appraisers, as regular procedure demanded. He first valued the goods at some thirty pounds. Bambridge pleaded the charges of the appraisal to reduce the sum; the estimate was accordingly brought down to twenty-seven pounds, sixteen shillings, and ninepence.
The dispute extended equally to the nature of the articles. Bambridge was said to have insisted that the linen be reckoned by the yard, rather than described as necessary wearing apparel. Turner declared it was contrary to custom to distrain upon indispensable raiment by such summary process. The bed, the household furniture, the utensils, and the garments were thus no mere lines upon a schedule: they formed the immediate compass of a captive woman, stripped of any power to manage her own estate.
Wilkinson, likewise a prisoner, described two padlocks upon the chamber door. Berkley held the key to the one, Pindar to the other. Bambridge commanded Pindar to unlock his own, and then sent for the prisoner that she might open the second. She refused. A man was dispatched to fetch a hammer; in the end, the door was forced with a poker. Before the trunks, the same refusal was repeated. Berkley maintained that the Warden had no right to demand her keys. According to the witnesses, Bambridge himself broke open the locks. Two trunks were locked; the third was nailed fast.
Turner related that he saw Bambridge put silver spoons, rings, and other effects into his pocket or into a portmanteau. He described goods taken from among Berkley’s property, yet the witnesses agreed neither upon each particular jewel nor upon the moment when it was handled. The value set upon the rings varied likewise: a goldsmith subsequently estimated one of them at some fourteen pounds. A distinction must therefore be preserved between the scene related by Turner and the precise schedules of articles later drawn up by other witnesses.
Berkley protested against what she termed an outright robbery. She was reported to have said that the King had committed her to prison, and that she was therefore bound to pay no rent. She found herself stripped of her bed and her furniture. Certain witnesses described her in the deepest distress. One related that she repeatedly cried out that Lord Harcourt was not dead—words that bespeak her perturbation at that season, though insufficient to establish any formal diagnosis. The proceeding intended to satisfy a debt visited upon her the most immediate hardships: her goods carried off, her chamber overturned, and utter uncertainty as to what would ever be restored.
The defense insisted upon the debt and the lawful authority of the distress. Bambridge maintained that his books would demonstrate he had acted in strict accordance with the law. Turner deposed that he had proposed to Berkley that she send for a friend who might discharge the rent and preserve the chattels. The prosecution, on the contrary, sought to prove that an ordinary legal instrument had been subverted to rapacity. The Warden’s presence, his absolute control over access to the cells, and his dominion over the prisoners’ possessions rendered the question of consent peculiarly acute: could Berkley truly refuse, and had the men charged with the inventory any right to act as they did?
At the bar, Bambridge sought also to discredit Wilkinson. He asked how much money the witness had received to swear against him, and how long he had been maintained upon charity. The court checked this inquiry: if he had proof of what he insinuated, it was his duty to produce it. Another passage concerned Pindar. Bambridge complained that Pindar had been indicted merely to deprive him of a material witness for the defense. The bench replied that Pindar was prosecuted as one of the principal actors in the felony. The chronicle does not record what Pindar might have testified had he taken the stand.
The indictment made tangible the extent of the alleged spoliation: a feather bed and bolster, blankets, several chairs and tables, a looking-glass, hearth-irons, three pairs of curtains, laces, silver plate, silk gowns, and parcels of satin. Other articles cited at the trial came from the chests Berkley had refused to unlock. Turner stated that Bambridge first caused the furniture to be inventoried, and then the plate, china, rings, precious stones, and wearing apparel. It was then that the chests were forced open.
Wilkinson’s testimony traced the journey of the chattels following their seizure. The bed was carried into a lumber-room, and thence conveyed to Dorset Stairs to be put on a boat for Wandsworth. The goods remained locked up for about six days, Bambridge keeping the key. An easy-chair was left with Turner to be cleaned, and was subsequently carried to Will’s Coffee House. Wilkinson confirmed that the prisoner was present when the distress was begun, though he could not affirm she remained in the chamber throughout. He related that he was sent to fetch a meaner bed, upon which she refused to lie. These particulars linked the seizure to concrete destinations far beyond the cell.
The jewels were subsequently displayed or valued in places where Bambridge was wont to resort. Mendez Soles related that a Captain Douglas had brought him a ring, saying it came from Bambridge; the Warden himself appeared later, inquired whether the stone were an amethyst, and subsequently had it cut. A surgeon also produced a garnet and a diamond; another ring, valued at fourteen pounds, was shown to the goldsmith. The witnesses did not always assign the same jewel to the same hand, but their accounts traced several pieces after their removal from the gaol.
Mrs. Howard recounted another transaction. Women’s gowns, a mantelet, and other wearing apparel had been brought to Will’s Coffee House, where Bambridge lodged. Thomas West had acquired them in exchange for a gold watch; she knew of no other consideration. Bambridge had likewise offered her some tea-spoons, which she declined to purchase. Her husband confirmed the arrival of the goods, but carefully distinguished what he had seen with his own eyes from what West had told him touching their cost.
Bambridge declared that no felony had been proved against him. He affirmed that he held papers proving the regularity of his proceedings, and prayed that his counsel might be heard should any point of law arise. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty. Borrow does not record the grounds of their finding, nor what ultimately became of Berkley’s goods. There remains, in these depositions, only the picture of that bed carried down to Dorset Stairs, and of the prisoner refusing the wretched pallet offered in its stead.