In September of 1843 a woman called Jane Marsden of Waingate Sheffield found herself a widow when her husband Jeffrey died. Before he died, they had lived in a large house on Waingate which they rented out to lodgers. However now with her husband gone, Jane had no way of running such a large establishment by herself. Sadly she was now in a position where she had no option but to sell the house. Thankfully she was able to put what effects she had in a garret of the house of her sister, Phoebe Pepper in Arundel Street, Sheffield. Jane was now in a position where she was forced to find herself a job as a housekeeper for an elderly couple.
However matters soon took a downward turn when, towards the end of January her sister Phoebe was taken ill and needed a domestic servant to take care of her. Accordingly, Jane applied to the Sheffield Workhouse for the services of one of the inmates who had nursing experience. Soon a forty-eight year old woman called Mary Hobson was recommended by the matron of the workhouse and the two women returned back to Arundel Street. However shortly afterwards Phoebe’s condition so deteriorated that she was bedridden. Mary Hobson took this in her stride and at first things went well as she attended to her patient assiduously.
Jane visited frequently to make sure that matters were progressing satisfactorily. However on Tuesday 26 March 1844 she needed to get back some of her blankets, and going up to the attic, opened the chest containing her stored drapery. Jane immediately noticed that the pile of blankets was a lot smaller than it had been and to her horror noticed that some other goods were also missing. Emptying the chest onto the floor, Jane saw that some sheets, pillowcase and towels were no longer in the chest. Making a quick inventory, Jane found that five blankets, a suit of clothes, a feather pillow, three small pieces of carpet and a shirt amongst other things had gone.
Going back downstairs she asked Mary where her blankets were and the servant told her ‘Oh I knew where they are, I can fetch them back for you tomorrow morning.’ The next morning however she left the house without saying where she was going. A search was made for Mary Hobson and she was soon found in Sheffield and taken into custody. Consequently she was brought before the Sheffield Magistrates at the Town Hall on Friday 29 March 1844. The first witness was a widow called Elizabeth Kirk, who told the court that she had known the prisoner for some time. She reported how on Monday 25 March, Mary had arrived at her house in Waingate.
The prisoner had asked Elizabeth if she would do her a favour and asked her to pledge a boys shirt for her at a pawnshop run by a man called Beet. Elizabeth did as requested and got 6d for the article which she duly gave to Mary. The next witness was the pawnbroker himself and he proudly introduced himself as Mr William Champion Beet. He stated that on 14 March the prisoner came into his shop with a blanket that she said that she wanted to pawn. He asked Mary if it was her own property to which she stated that it was. As a consequence he gave her a shilling for the blanket. Since that time the prisoner had returned back to his shop on Saturday 23 March where she pawned another blanket for the same amount.
The pawnbroker said that Mary had also returned on Monday 25 March when she pledged a cotton shirt for sixpence. The next witness was Police Constable Potton who produced the stolen items in the courtroom. They were readily identified by Jane Marsden as being her property. The prisoner was found guilty and ordered to take her trial. As a result Mary Hobson was brought before the Spring Quarter Sessions at Pontefract on Monday 8 April 1844. She pleaded guilty to stealing the articles from the house of Phoebe Pepper and was sentenced to three calendar months imprisonment.
When I write about such cases, I cant help but wonder what happened to women finding themselves in such a position. Any woman coming out of prison would not have the help and support that ex convicts have today. Just the fact that Mary Hobson had served, even a short a sentence as this, would have guaranteed that even if she returned back to Sheffield, her life would never be the same. ‘Once a jail bird, always a jail bird’ was the thinking of the time. At a guess I would suppose that the only door open to her would be to return to the Sheffield Workhouse as a pauper inmate. As a forty-eight year old woman, it was to be hoped that she found some joy in the few years left to her.