Remarkable life and death of Agnes Webster

REMARKABLE

LIFE AND DEATH

OF

AGNES WEBSTER,

DAUGHTER OF A RESPECTABLE

TRADESMAN,

RESIDING AT CAMBUSLANG, NEAR

GLASGOW,

WHO WAS

SEDUCED BY A YOUNG GENTLEMAN.

---

LIKEWISE AN ACCOUNT OF THE CAUSES
OF PROSTITUTION, AND THE NUMBER OF HOUSES
OF ILL FAME IN SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL
TOWNS IN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND.

To which is added a Copy of Verses.

EDINBURGH.

AGNES WEBSTER

Where have the “lower classes” learned the service of beating their wives? Rich people do not beat their wives, and gentlemen do not maim their sweethearts. Yet daily in our streets, and in the ⟨life⟩ of our “better classes,” is an example which ⟨homely⟩ instincts quickly imitate. A gentleman meets a poor girl. He does not treat her with open roughness; he knows a better game. He sees her weak in comforts, poor in worldly goods, bare, ⟨indeed⟩, even of the cheapest pleasures. He strikes ⟨at⟩ her with the strong temptations of comforts, clothes, pleasures; and robs her of her honour. She becomes the victim of a brutality as gross as that of ⟨the⟩ wretch now on the treadmill for trampling on ⟨an⟩ enceinte wife. She loses her chance of decent ⟨living⟩; finds the burthen of a living shame thrown on her for support; and is an outcast from the ⟨homes⟩ of all good people. If the silly wretch do ⟨not⟩ drown herself, she may accuse the gentleman, ⟨and⟩ when the case is fully proved, he is fined half-a-⟨crown⟩ a-week. From the class of women thus ⟨created⟩ the workmen must select their wives; and ⟨yet⟩ no wonder that they treat them badly! We allow well dressed men to set the pattern, and we cry out for the whip when men in fustian act up to the example. If the young lady who flung herself into the water at Southampton the other day had been insulted or outraged by a working man—if her arm had been bruised or her face cut, the revenge of the law had been terrible. But she was only betrayed and deserted by a gentleman; her life and fame were only blasted; and the gentleman sailed away to India with flying colours and a gallant reputation. Working men live among people who talk freely of such coarse facts; they note the facts, and take up the manly tone. They have not the finesse to seduce or the art to betray; but they gratify their passion with bludgeon blows, or win consent to their lust by rude force. We are too delicate to talk on these incidents, and too refined to apply to the evil direct legislation. We gracefully veil the sins of the seducers; we do not talk of them in the drawing room, nor compile statistics of them in the office; but their existence is the current cant in any meeting of young men. Working men imitate our actions and follow out our practices in their own way. It would be wrong to say that a full remedy for brutality towards woman would be a just punishment of all kinds of outrages upon them committed by all kinds of men. We know well that the cause of this constant crime lies deeper. The many social customs which cramp woman’s power of earning bread, and the many laws and rules which fetter all kinds of industry, are among the obvious causes which place her at the mercy of man; while a materialised tone of society, making good dinners and strong stimulants the chief good, and innocent amusement an oddity, establish the dominance of man, and abridge woman’s domains,—the pleasure-ground, the ball-room, and the home. But strict equity in meting measure for measure to all who do wrong, would at least mark the public sense of justice, and bring a better social tone through the spirit rather than through the letter of a new legislation.

Young persons, especially females, are never so safe as under the inspection of prudent and pious parents; for their own inexperience and credulity, and the intoxicating nature of flattery, together with the artifice of those who are continually laying snares for them, expose them to imminent danger. They are therefore their own enemies, if they desire to go from home alone, especially among those who are strangers to God and true religion; but those parents are much more inexcusable who allow or encourage their children in acting so imprudently nay, who do not iuterpose their authority to ⟨prevent⟩ them from heedlessly exposing themselves to unseen and unsuspected danger. Indulged, because beloved, children, too, often, like Dinah, become the shame and grief of their relations. And, indeed large families even when trained up in the fear of God, will frequently occasion many trials, anxieties, aud sorrows, to their parents; and the grief of losing them in infancy is transient and tolerable compared with that of seeing them grow up and live in wickedness. Let parents then rejoice as though they rejoiced not, and submit with resignation if the Lord bereave them of their beloved offspring; and if their children be spared, let them bring them up for the Lord, and commend them to his gracious protection. When young women listen to the vile proposals or flattering promises of seducers, they not unfrequently seclude themselves from every prospect of forming honourable connexions, and voluntarily consign themselves to a single life, if still worse consequences do not ensue; aud this consideration, combined with nobler motives, should induce them to object, with determined indignation and disdain, every dishonourable proposal. No sin is made lighter of by multitudes than lewdness; yet no crime is more injurious to the bodies and souls of individuals, to the peace and comfort of families, and to the welfare of society, and no sin makes way for more horrible consequences, as introductory to all other wickedness. But how will these heathens rise up in judgment against, and condemn thousands falsely called Christians, who, having seduced and defiled the objects of their pretended affection, afterwards treat them with contempt and hatred, leave them to the infamy and misery of prostitution, disease, and death; and without the least compassion for them or their broken-hearted parents, proceed to add new trophies of their infamous success, and to multiply the victims of their unbridled lusts. Surely Shechem was in this more honourable, not only than all the house of his father but than all the rest of his brethren, the whole tribe of seducers, who are in honour and conscience, bound to propose and make this only but inadequate reparation, though few of them are willing to do it!

It appears from the statement made by the unfortunate Agnes, that she is a native of Cambuslang, near Glasgow;—her father and mother having both died when she was about 14 years of age. It seems her father’s death took place somewhat suddenly, caused by apoplexy, leaving her to the care of a brother and step-mother, but they having ⟨disagreed⟩ the house was given up, and Agnes went to ⟨keep⟩ house to her brother. During which time ⟨she⟩ became attached to a young gentleman ⟨named⟩ George Wylie, a companion of her brother. ⟨He⟩ often declared he would marry her but for the interference of his parents. He now proposed that ⟨she⟩ should accompany him to Southampton, where ⟨their⟩ marriage would take place previous to their ⟨departure⟩ for India. But he was determined to effect ⟨his⟩ diabolical designs: the monster made ever preparation for the voyage, but on the morning they ⟨were⟩ to sail he made his escape and set sail. My ⟨feelings⟩ may be better felt than described: Behold me ⟨now⟩ a wanderer in the streets of Southampton, ⟨without⟩ money, or even a place to rest my head; having applied in vain to my brother for assistance, ⟨but⟩ received no answer from him. I continued to ⟨earn⟩ my bread by sewing to my late landlady, but ⟨my⟩ misfortunes soon began. I became acquainted ⟨with⟩ a young woman—she soon led me into a house ⟨of⟩ bad fame, where I acted as servant for some time I soon became acquainted with the horrid lives, ⟨and⟩ with the girls of this house. I left for London where I underwent all the miseries of that ⟨horrid⟩ life. I then visited some of the principal towns ⟨in⟩ Europe, attending horse-races, markets, &c. I ⟨returned⟩ again to Southampton, the scene of my past misfortune—there I was seized with fever and ⟨went⟩ to the hospital. On my recovery I was left to my fate, but being determined not to return to that ⟨life⟩ I so much detested, I resolved to commit self- destruction that same night I left the hospital. I ⟨attempted⟩ to drown myself in the dock, but was ⟨prevented⟩ by the people who brought me here.

About a fortnight after I received her statement. ⟨I⟩ had occasion to visit Glasgow, and by a strict ⟨search⟩ found Agnes Cree, step-mother of the ⟨sufferer⟩. I was much pleased with this good woman’s ⟨reception⟩; when I told her of the situation of her ⟨step⟩-daughter she fell into tears, at length she ⟨resolved⟩ to accompany me to Southampton, and in two ⟨days⟩ saw Agnes under the care of one who would ⟨have⟩ been to her a mother, had she but have taken ⟨counsel⟩. I will now describe the last interview I ⟨had⟩ with this family.

I had been three weeks in Glasgow, and was making ready to leave, for I could see her time was ⟨near⟩ at an end; on entering her room I found her ⟨brother⟩ and friends kneeling. She stretched out ⟨her⟩ hand to me and exclaimed, my friend! We ⟨prayed⟩ for her, and in five minutes afterwards she ⟨ceased⟩ to live.

Causes of Prostitution.

Females are principally led astray from the following causes:—One fourth from being servants in taverns and public houses, where they have been been seduced by men frequenting these places of dissipation and intemperance. One fourth from the intermixing of the sexes in factories and those employed in warehouses and shops. One fourth by procuresses or females who visit country towns and markets for the purpose of decoying good looking girls. The remaining fourth may be divided into three classes:—First, such as being indolent or possessing bad tempers, and leave their situations. Second, those who are driven to that awful course by young men making false promises: Third, children who have been urged by their mothers to become prostitutes for a livelihood.

The following is a summary—it refers to the third-class houses in Lecds, with a population of 160,000:—

Number of houses of ill-Fame,		175
Average number of Prostitutes, 4 to each house,	-	700
Number of Bullies or Fancy-Men,	-	350
Number of Mistresses in said houses,	-	175
Total living on Prostitution,	-	1400

Number of Visits of Men to each House weekly,	-	80
Making weekly visits over all,	-	14,000
The Girls receive on an average £1, 10s weekly, making the sum of		£1,050
Robberies—2s 6d from each visitor is a low average, making	-	1,750
Spent on Drink, 2s by each visitor,	-	1,400
Total for Prostitution weekly,		£4,200
""annually,		£218,400
Number of Unfortunate Girls who die yearly,	-	120

The following is the extent of Prostitution in ⟨Glasgow⟩:—

⟨Number⟩ of houses of ill-fame,		450
⟨Average⟩ number of Prostitutes in all,		1800
Number of Bullies or Fancy-Men,		1350
Do.Mistresses,-	-	450
⟨Total⟩ living on prostitution,	-	3,600
⟨Number⟩ of visits of men to each house,		80
⟨Making⟩ weekly visits to 450 houses,		36,000
⟨The⟩ Girls receive on an average £1 from each visitor, making weekly	-	£1800
⟨Robberies⟩—2s 6d from each visitor,		4500
⟨Spent⟩ on Drink by each visitor, 2s		3600
⟨Total⟩ for Prostitution weekly,		9990
"" annually		514,890
⟨Number⟩ of Girls who die annually, 6 years being their average lifetime,		300
⟨The⟩ average number of different class houses— First, 60; Second, 180; Third, 210.

A COPY OF VERSES.

See the star-breasted villain to yonder cot bound,
Where the sweet honeysuckle entwines it around.
Yet sweeter, far sweeter, than flowers o’er the scene,
Is the poor hedger’s daughter, the pride of the green.

But more, never more, will she there please all eycs,
Her peace of mind withers, her happiness flies,
She pauses, sighs, trembles! and yet dares to roam,
The village born beauty, seduced from her home.

From a post ehaise and four she’s in London set down,
Where, robb’d of her virtue, she’s launched on the town,
Her carriage, her servants, and jewels so gay,
Tell how high she is kept, and o’er them bears the sway

At the Opera, the Playhouse, the Parks, and elsewhere
Her beauty out-rivals each beauty that’s there,
And while, big with envy, her downfall they tell,
The village born beauty o’er all bears the bell.

But soon, from indifference, eapriee, or what not,
She’s turned on the world, by her keeper forgot;
Yet fond to be flattered, and fettered in viec,
She’s this man’s or that as he comes to her price.

At lcngth growing stale, all her finery sold,
In the bloom of her youth through disease looking old,
Forsook by her lovers, and sought for no more,
The village born beauty becomes a street w———.