Elizabeth Brownrigg was hanged on the 14th of September, 1767, before a crowd that had gathered to shout their anger at her. Just one week earlier, she had been found guilty of the willful murder of a fourteen-year-old apprentice girl named Mary Clifford. The sentence carried an additional punishment: her corpse was to be publicly dissected. For a woman who had once been respected as the overseer of women and children in her parish, it was a complete and terrible fall.
Brownrigg was born in 1720 in Greenwich, on the south bank of the Thames, into a poor family that could offer her little education. Like many girls of her station, she married young. Her husband, James Brownrigg, was an apprentice painter who rose to become a skilled and industrious master of his trade. The couple had sixteen children, but only three survived infancy, a loss that was not uncommon in the disease-ridden streets of mid-eighteenth-century London, where typhoid, smallpox, and typhus were constant threats.
By 1765, the family had moved to Fleur de Lis Court in Fleet Street, accompanied by their son John, then a young man of about nineteen. James had established himself as a reliable painter, and Elizabeth had found work as a midwife in the parish of St. Dunstan’s. Under the Act for the Relief of the Poor of 1601, each parish was responsible for caring for those who could not work.
Elizabeth was employed to help pregnant women who had no means of supporting themselves, and she quickly earned a reputation for sympathy and kindness, especially toward the young women who were often looked down upon for their circumstances. Some said that the grief of losing thirteen of her own children had given her compassion for the unfortunate. Whatever the reason, she became so respected that she was given the title of overseer of women and children within the parish. She decided she needed help and, in February 1765, took on an apprentice named Mary Mitchell.
Neighbors wondered why she required assistance, especially since the parish paid anyone who took on an apprentice. Two months later, in April, she took on another, Mary Jones, who was sent from the Foundling Hospital, an institution founded in 1739 by sea captain Thomas Coram to shelter and educate abandoned children. It was considered the world’s first incorporated charity. The two girls were not really being trained.
They were treated strictly as domestic servants. At first, Mrs. Brownrigg was kind to them, but once the trial month was over and they were legally bound to her, her manner changed completely. She told them their work was never good enough and beat them regularly for the slightest mistake.
Mary Jones could not endure it for long. On the early morning of the 24th of July 1765, she noticed that the key had been left in the lock of the front door. She quietly unlocked it and slipped out into the darkness, making her way back to the Foundling Hospital. There, a doctor examined her and found her body covered in bruises and sores.
The governors of the hospital were deeply concerned and instructed their solicitor, a Mr. Plumptre, to write to James Brownrigg demanding an explanation and threatening prosecution. James ignored the letter entirely, and the governors eventually decided to take no further action. Meanwhile, Mary Mitchell was left alone with the Brownriggs and now received the full cruelty that had driven Mary Jones away.
She tried to escape herself but was seen in the street by John Brownrigg, who forced her back into the house. Enraged, Mrs. Brownrigg tied her up, beat her with a broom, made her sleep in the cellar, and fed her only small portions of bread and water. On the 17th of February 1766, the Brownriggs took on another apprentice.
She too was named Mary, Mary Clifford, the fourteen-year-old daughter of a shoemaker. Her mother had recently died and her father could not care for her, so she had been placed with the Brownriggs by parish officers, despite the earlier complaint made by Mary Jones. Again, the girl was treated kindly during the first month. Once she was legally bound, the cruelty began.
She was forced to work eighteen hours a day, slept on a mat in the cellar or coal hole, and was beaten almost daily, often in front of John Brownrigg, who appeared to support his mother’s actions. Eventually, Mary Clifford confided in a French lady who lodged in the house. When Mrs. Brownrigg discovered this, she was enraged and considered it improper behavior from a servant she had taken in out of charity.
She beat the girl severely and then cut her tongue with a pair of scissors. On the 12th of July 1767, Mary Clifford’s stepmother came to visit her on a Sunday, believing the servant did not work that day. She was told Mary was not home and went away anxious and suspicious. On the 3rd of August, an apprentice of a baker who lived next door looked out of a top-floor window and saw a young girl in the Brownriggs’ yard.
She was tied up, blood was coming from her head, and her eyes were black and her face swollen. He called out to her, and she looked up, making faint crying sounds. He told his mistress, who sent for the stepmother. The stepmother went to the parish overseer.
The overseer and another official then went to the Brownrigg house and demanded to see the girl. Elizabeth Brownrigg was reluctant and the search initially only turned up Mary Mitchell. The overseer threatened to bring in the magistrates if the girl was not produced. James Brownrigg made vague threats about complaining to the mayor’s office, but he eventually relented and ordered his son to fetch Mary Clifford.
She had been locked in a cupboard. Her head was covered in gashes, as were her legs and thighs. There was a deep wound on one hip, her throat was swollen, and her mouth was so injured she could not close it. Both girls were removed from the house and placed in the care of the parish.
Mary Clifford was examined by a doctor, and the magistrate was summoned. James Brownrigg was apprehended, but Elizabeth and her son John had fled. For the next several days, they moved from lodging house to lodging house, disguising themselves as best they could, though strangely, they did not leave London. On the 9th of August, Mary Clifford died of her injuries.
The inquest concluded that her death had been caused by James, Elizabeth, and John Brownrigg. Public anger was intense. Notices were placed in newspapers and around the city offering a reward of ten guineas for information leading to Elizabeth’s capture and two guineas for her son. The notices described her as middle-sized, slim, of a swarthy complexion, and near fifty years of age, wearing a yellow gown with stripes.
On the 15th of August, the owner of a chandler’s shop where the fugitives had taken rooms read one of the notices and contacted the constable. He was right, and Elizabeth and John were arrested and taken to Newgate Prison. The trial began at the Old Bailey on the 7th of September 1767 before Judge Sir Robert Kite. The main witness was Mary Mitchell, who had been in the house for nearly two and a half years.
She described the beatings with walking canes and brooms, the sleeping on boards in the cellar, and the punishment of being stripped, tied by the hands to a beam across the ceiling, and beaten with a horsewhip. She said that a permanent hook had been placed on the beam to make tying them up easier, and that John would beat Mary Clifford even when his mother was out. George Benham, James Brownrigg’s own apprentice, testified that he had seen Mrs. Brownrigg beat the girls and revealed that after James’s arrest, he had been instructed to go to the house, remove the hook from the beam, and burn all the sticks used for beating them.
In her defense, Elizabeth claimed the beatings were punishment for poor work and that she had no desire to kill the girl. But the medical evidence indicated the brutality was severe, and she had never sought any treatment for Mary Clifford’s injuries. Others spoke of the good character of the Brownrigg family and noted that Mary Clifford herself had said her master never beat her. The trial lasted eleven hours.
The jury found Elizabeth Brownrigg guilty of willful murder, and she was sentenced to death with public dissection. Her husband and son were acquitted of murder, but were later convicted of abusing and assaulting Mary Mitchell and sentenced to six months in prison and a fine of one shilling each. In Newgate, attended by a clergyman, Elizabeth confessed and acknowledged that her sentence was just. She saw her husband and son one last time.
On the day of her execution, a very large crowd gathered, shouting at her as she traveled to the hanging tree, expressing their anger at the terrible cruelty she had inflicted on the unfortunate Mary Clifford. Shortly after, she was hanged.
