CRYING DRUNK AND DRINKING TEA.

The Times, with cruel irony,  gives the title 'Ladies of the Fish Market' to this account of Mary Matthews' apearance before the Mayor and Magistrates at Exeter Guildhall in December 1842.  The 'ladies', at least two of them, tried hard to keep poor Mary out of prison after all her only offence was being drunk in charge of a fish-stall: 

"The venerable Superintendent stated that on the previous afternoon he found Mary sitting outside her stall, 'crying drunk and drinking tea'.  He saw that her condition was likely to augment the crowd of curious assembled to see a woman bemoaning herself in her cups, and went to the Guildhall for a policeman.

"Mary, however was wide awake to the move, and made a bolt, followed by a mob of idlers, and took refuge in a public house, whence she was soon dislodged, and conveyed to the station house.

"Mr. Barton - was she bailed?

"A Policeman - No, sir, she has been here all night.

"Mary - I was taking a cup of tea; there was nothing particularly amiss with me, and when there is they make such a noise about it in the market.  Mary attempted to finish with a little crying, but the tears refused to flow.

"Another lady of the Fish Market here stepped forward saying she was Mary's aunt and wished to speak for her.

"Mary's Aunt - Your worships , she was quiet enough and only taking a cup of tea with me to freshen her.

"Mr. S. Kingdon - Tea?

"Mary's Aunt - Yes - sure!  She wasn't much gone, she's been drunker than that many times.

"Mr. S. Kingdon - I have not a doubt of it.; if you had put her under a pump and pumped on her for half an hour that would have done her good.

"The Superintendent - Before I saw her she had been using foul and obscene language. Mrs. Pomeroy, who heard it can be called.

"Mary -  And when Mrs. Pomeroy is drunk, doesn't she run about with a knife in her hand.

"Mr. Kingdon - and when you're drunk, you're not afraid of a hundred women with knives.

"Another lady of the market, whose nose was a good deal damaged, apparently from a recent thump, now came forward to plead for Mary, but she pleaded in vain.

"Mr. Barton - Did Mary give you that nose?

"The lady - No, the basket did it.  Wont your worships let her off.  I'll go bail she wont get drunk again.

"The Mayor - She must pay the fine, or go to the House of Correction.

"The lady - [with a curtsey and a kind look] - do say a little less, your Worship.

"The Mayor - No.

"The lady - [with a lower curtsey and a kinder look] - Will your Worship give us a week to pay in.

"The Mayor - She must pay or go  to prison.

"The lady - [imploringly] - Well,  give us credit for two or three days.

"The Mayor - She must be removed now, and when you have raised the money go and take her out." 

So, the Superintendent (of Police) found Mary bemoaning herself at the new (1838) Higher Market but needed to fetch a constable.  When they returned she had gone but he considered her offence so grave that he pursued the poor girl into a public house and she spent the night in a prison cell.  

The pleading of the aunt and the 'lady' with the curtseys and the kind looks suggests that there was an admirable solidarity among Exeter's market women.  

Again and again I am amazed by the lowly citizens' familiarity with the magistrates -   Do say a little less, your Worship!  

Sam. Kingdon's comments about putting young Mary under the pump for half an hour would raise a few eyebrows these days.

I notice The Times does not find an apostrophe here, and in other places, for won't.  I wonder how general this was. 

Mary's aunt's use of sure!, to mean for sure surprised me.  Could it be a usage Exeter exported to the United States rather than the other way round?