Note 4 — CHAPTER TEN My Release

The innocents—my children—one a baby of three years, the other a boy of seven, I had left behind in the world. They had been taught to believe that their mother was guilty, and, like their father, was to them dead. They have grown up to years of understanding under another name. I know nothing about them. When the pathos of all this touches the reader’s heart he will realize the tragedy of my case.

During the early years of my imprisonment I received my children’s photographs once a year; also several friendly letters from Mr. Thomas Maybrick, with information about them. But as time passed on, these ceased altogether. When I could endure the silence no longer I instructed Mr. R. S. Cleaver, of Liverpool—who had been the solicitor in my case, and to whose unwavering faith and kindness I owe a debt I can never hope to repay—to write to Mr. Michael Maybrick to forward fresh photographs of my boy and girl. To this request Mr. Thomas Maybrick replied that Mr. Michael Maybrick refused to permit it. When the matter was further urged Mr. Michael Maybrick himself wrote to the governor to inform me that my son, who had been made acquainted with the history of the case, did not wish either his own or his sister’s photograph to be sent to me.