ELIZABETH
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Photo of a Glasgow slum 1868
from https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/victorian-slums-photos/
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Elizabeth was the daughter of Thomas Pennifold, (a weaver), and Elizabeth Southan. Her siblings were a half brother William King Southan, Mary , John, Sarah and Marten. After her husband English Corney's conviction of cattle stealing, Elizabeth protested his innocence, petitioning the king. The list of people who petitioned for the sentence of Elizabeth's husband English to be mitigated are likely to contain relatives of Elizabeth.
Amongst the list of people testifying to English's good character were John Pennifold, cousin Thomas Pennifold and Marten Pennifold, William Southon and her brother in law William Atkins. Below is her petition. Please see English Corney for more of Elizabeth's story.
Amongst the list of people testifying to English's good character were John Pennifold, cousin Thomas Pennifold and Marten Pennifold, William Southon and her brother in law William Atkins. Below is her petition. Please see English Corney for more of Elizabeth's story.
This is a factional piece on Elizabeth begging for alms from the Brighton Parish.
As the ragged queue edges forward Elizabeth’s mind wanders back to the village of Husterpoint. Such hopes and dreams she and English had indulged in while building their little empire in this ‘highly respected and improving neighbourhood.’ They had worked hard but been full of good cheer, looking forward to their future in the beautiful house and garden they had created together. English’s skills as a wheelwright and smithy kept the money flowing in and the children began arriving quickly, the house resonating with their chatter. Elizabeth and English were filled to the brim with contentment.
How foolish they had been! During those years when the two of them had been so smug, people around them were drifting away, forced off the land by poor harvests and rising costs. By the time she and English had looked up from their cosy little dream life, it was too late - his work had come to a grinding halt. There was no money to pay for the encumberance. Their lovely home was sold for a pittance.
Elizabeth wipes her tears with her dirty sleeve. She is so exhausted she feels faint. A line of a poem comes to her, ‘That bells should joyful ring to tell.’ She shakes her head. She can’t think like that, not with five children to support and English so far away in Australia. Nine years now, he’s been gone and life is one long, miserable struggle for survival. An angry voice brings her back to the present. ‘Missus! ’ The line ahead has disappeared and Elizabeth stands at the desk. The Clergyman registers her name and parish and hands over a few coins. A nice bit of mutton for the pot tonight, she thinks hurrying away.
As the ragged queue edges forward Elizabeth’s mind wanders back to the village of Husterpoint. Such hopes and dreams she and English had indulged in while building their little empire in this ‘highly respected and improving neighbourhood.’ They had worked hard but been full of good cheer, looking forward to their future in the beautiful house and garden they had created together. English’s skills as a wheelwright and smithy kept the money flowing in and the children began arriving quickly, the house resonating with their chatter. Elizabeth and English were filled to the brim with contentment.
How foolish they had been! During those years when the two of them had been so smug, people around them were drifting away, forced off the land by poor harvests and rising costs. By the time she and English had looked up from their cosy little dream life, it was too late - his work had come to a grinding halt. There was no money to pay for the encumberance. Their lovely home was sold for a pittance.
Elizabeth wipes her tears with her dirty sleeve. She is so exhausted she feels faint. A line of a poem comes to her, ‘That bells should joyful ring to tell.’ She shakes her head. She can’t think like that, not with five children to support and English so far away in Australia. Nine years now, he’s been gone and life is one long, miserable struggle for survival. An angry voice brings her back to the present. ‘Missus! ’ The line ahead has disappeared and Elizabeth stands at the desk. The Clergyman registers her name and parish and hands over a few coins. A nice bit of mutton for the pot tonight, she thinks hurrying away.
