About this time, 1828, one of the houses in which her husband was a partner failed, “which involved Elizabeth Fry and her family in a train of sorrows and perplexities which tinged the remaining years of her life.”

They sold the house at Plashet, and moved again to Mildred Court, now the home of one of their sons.  Her wealthy brothers and her children soon re-established the parents in comfort.

She now became deeply interested in the five hundred Coast-Guard stations in the United Kingdom, where the men and their families led a lonely life.  Partly by private contributions and partly through the aid of government, she obtained enough money to buy more than twenty-five thousand volumes for libraries at these stations.  The letters of gratitude were a sufficient reward for the hard work.  She also obtained small libraries for all the packets that sailed from Falmouth.

In 1837, with some friends, she visited Paris, making a detailed examination of its prisons.  Guizot entertained her, the Duchess de Broglie, M. de Pressense, and others paid her much attention.  The King and Queen sent for her, and had an earnest talk.  At Nismes, where there were twelve hundred prisoners, she visited the cells, and when five armed soldiers wished to protect her and her friends, she requested that they be allowed to go without guard.  In one dungeon she found two men, chained hand and foot.  She told them she would plead for their liberation if they would promise good behavior.  They promised, and kept it, praying every night for their benefactor thereafter.  When she held a meeting in the prison, hundreds shed tears, and the good effects of her work were visible long after.

The next journey was made to Germany.  At Brussels, the King held out both hands to receive her.  In Denmark, the King and Queen invited her to dine, and she sat between them.  At Berlin, the royal family treated her like a sister, and all stood about her while she knelt and prayed for them.

The new penitentiaries were built after her suggestions, so perfect was thought to be her system.  The royal family never forget her.  When the King of Prussia visited England, to stand sponsor for the infant Prince of Wales, in 1842, he dined with her at her home.  She presented to him her eight daughters and daughters-in-law, her seven sons and eldest grandson, and then their twenty-five grandchildren.

Finally, the great meetings, and the earnest plans, with their wonderful execution, were coming to an end for Elizabeth Fry.

There had been many breaks in the home circle.  Her beloved son William, and his two children, had just died.  Some years before she had buried a very precious child, Elizabeth, at the age of five, who shortly before her death said, “Mamma, I love everybody better than myself, and I love thee better than everybody, and I love Almighty much better than thee, and I hope thee loves Almighty much better than me.”  This was a severe stroke, Mrs. Fry saying, “My much-loved husband and I have drank this cup together, in close sympathy and unity of feeling.  It has at times been very bitter to us both, but we have been in measure each other’s joy and helpers in the Lord.”