CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THIS BOOK IS ONE OF A 
 COLLECTION MADE BY 
 
 BENNO LOEWY 
 1854-1919 
 
 AND BEQUEATHED TO 
 CORNELL UNIVERSITY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 arV13751 
 
 Five years' penal servitude / 
 
 3 1924 031 278 231 
 oiin,anx 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924031278231 
 
FIVE YEARS' PENAL SEHYITUDE 
 
LOSDON : PRISTED BY 
 
 6TOTTISW00DB AKD CO., SBW-STKEET SdUABK 
 
 AKD PAELIAMEST STREET 
 
FIVE YEARS' 
 
 PENAL SEEYITUDE 
 
 BY ONE WHO HAS ENDURED IT 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 LONDON 
 
 RICHARD BENTLBY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET 
 
 ^aWJs^ws in Srbinwg ia Ha ^sjtMs % (Simtn. 
 
 1878 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
PEKFATOEY NOTE. 
 
 The .Publisheks, before offering this work to 
 the public, have satisfied themselves that the 
 following narrative is what it purports to be — 
 the genuine record of five years' penal servi- 
 tude by one who endured it. It is given to 
 the- public in the hope that its statements may 
 secure the attention of the thoughtful, and 
 bring about some of the changes suggested in 
 its pages. Of these a classification of prisoners, 
 and a diminution of the term of imprison- 
 ment for first offences^ seem most to call for 
 attention. 
 
 New BuKLiNaTON Stkbbt: 
 Ootoier 1877, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. JS'ewqaie ... .... 1 
 
 n. MiLLBAifK qi 
 
 III. Dartmoor 137 
 
 IV. Darimgoe 248 
 
 "V. Dartmoor . . 310 
 
 VI. Obseetaiions, Reflections, and Suggestions . 363 
 
FIVE YEAES' PENAL SERVITUDE 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 NEWGATE. 
 
 Penal Servitude is a tMng many people — most 
 people — hear of and read of a great deal, but 
 about "wliich only a certain number know really 
 anything. Pew subjects, perhaps, have been more 
 written upon by persons who are either totally 
 ignorant of the subject they profess to describe, 
 and who draw liberal dtafts on their imaginations, 
 as poets do in descanting of Paradise and Hades. 
 Some gather scraps of information from prison 
 chaplains and warders, and perhaps here and there 
 get hold of an informant who has passed through 
 its ordeal, and who, more or less reluctantly, teUs 
 a few actual experiences which the author works 
 up and embellishes with touches of sensation 
 
 B 
 
2 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 or romance into a readable article or saleable 
 book. . 
 
 Many a quiet smile have I had over the perusal 
 of convicts' confessions, chaplains' reminiscences, 
 and other similar articles I have met with in ma- 
 gazines, journals, and newspapers. Has anyone, 
 having actually been tried, convicted, and sen- 
 tenced to penal servitude, after working out the 
 long years of slavery and obtaining his freedom, 
 sat down to give the world an account of his ex- 
 periences in a plain unvarnished tale ? I doubt it ; 
 and as some few years ago it was my fate to have 
 to pass through the terrible ordeal of a sentence 
 of five years' penal servitude, I propose to give to 
 the world what I actually suffered, saw, and ex- 
 perienced in two of the convict establishments of 
 this country. I had many peculiar facilities for 
 seeing a great deal of the working of the system 
 of penal servitude, and being of an observing dis- 
 position at all tim^s, I made careful mental notes 
 from time to time of its effect on different charac- 
 ters and classes of men, in its corrective and re- 
 pressive bearings on the prisoners, and I think 
 my narrative may not be uninteresting to those 
 who take an interest in and are anxious to reform 
 
Newgate. 3 
 
 and improye prison discipline, as well as to the 
 general reader. 
 
 It matters little to tlie public what it was that 
 brought me within the grip of my country's laws. 
 Suffice it to say, after over twenty years of com- 
 mercial life in more than one large English city, I 
 found myself, in the year 186-, drawn into the 
 meshes of a man who was too clever for me and 
 for the law, and who, crossing the seas to a place 
 of safety, left me to meet a charge to which in his 
 absence I had really no defence. I was sentenced 
 to five years' penal servitude, and the following 
 pages will tell how I went through with it. 
 
 Passing over the details of my arrest by a 
 detective, my appearance before a magistrate, 
 remands time after time, and final trial at the Old 
 Bailey, I will commence at once with my first 
 acquaintance with prison discipline at Newgate. 
 On fii'st being remanded from the magistrates' 
 court in the City of London, I was conveyed in the 
 hearse-like looking omnibus, well known as the 
 ' Black Maria,' to Newgate. Most of my readers 
 will remember having seen these terrible convey- 
 ances going to and from the various police offices 
 and metropolita.n prisons. On mounting the steps 
 
 n 2 ;«■ 
 
Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 I was ushered into a passage running up the centre 
 from end to end of the ' 'bus,' with a number of 
 doors on each side, through one of which I was 
 gently pushed, and found myself shut up in a close 
 box, with a seat, not too weU ventilated nor too 
 clean, and out of the gratings of which I vainly 
 endeavoured to catch a glimpse of the world I was 
 leaving. On the seat, much to my surprise, were 
 two large slices of bread, which I afterwards found 
 by my own experience had been the allowance 
 given out to some prisoner who had left the gaol 
 in the morning, and had either been discharged 
 or had forgotten to eat what in prison slang is 
 called his ' toke' or ' chuck.' 
 
 No sooner was the outer door shut and locked, 
 and the vehicle commenced its journey, than I was 
 made aware of the presence of fellow travellers by 
 voices calling to each other with inquiries as to 
 how they had got on before the magistrate, what 
 sentence they had received, or, as it was curtly- 
 asked, ' How much ? ' I soon found that I was in 
 a box between two parties known to each other 
 and concerned in the same affair, and when they 
 found a stranger was dividing them, both desisted 
 from their own recriminations as to' 'rounding' 
 and 'blowing ' on each other, to commence a series 
 
Newgate. 5 
 
 of rapid inquiries as to who I was and what I was 
 'up' for, if remanded or committed, what I ex- 
 pected to get, and had I ever been in the ' steel,' 
 a slang name for one of the large metropolitan 
 prisons, as the ' Gate' is for Newgate. 
 
 On arrival within the courtyard at the grim 
 old city prison, from whose debtors' door so many 
 have stepped to pass on to the gallows, I was let out 
 and marshalled into a dark stone passage, where I 
 was told to stand in a row with my fellow pas- 
 sengers. 
 
 The Deputy-Governor, in a plain uniform with 
 cap and gold band, attended by two warders, re- 
 ceived us, and on the constable, who had acted as 
 the conductor of our sombre carriage, handing to 
 him a number of papers, one for each prisoner, he 
 called out the names, to which each replied. Most 
 of them were 'remands' or committals, and were 
 simply marched off by warders to their respective 
 cells. By ' committals ' I mean that they had been 
 committed by the magistrate that day for trial at 
 the next Old Bailey sessions. 
 
 My turn came last ; I was that day the only 
 new hand. -, I was told to follow a warder, a young 
 man who saw in a moment I was ' green,' that 
 this was my first visit within a criminal prison, and 
 
Five Years^ Penal Servitude. 
 
 was as civil as I could reasonably expect. I was, 
 of course, only now remanded under suspicion. I 
 might be as innocent as the babe in long clothes, or 
 I might be guilty of the most heinous crimes. 
 
 My guide ushered me iato a stone cellar-like 
 place, where there were several small rooms with 
 baths in them. I was directed to enter one and 
 undress. On my so doing my clothes were taken 
 and one by one carefally examined, my pockets 
 turned out, and all prohibited articles, such as 
 keys, cash, knife, &c., removed. An inventory of 
 these things was taken, and I was told that any 
 of my friends, on calling to see me, might take 
 them away. I was informed that I could either 
 have the prison allowance of food or order in what 
 I wished for, under certain restrictions, from an 
 eating-house on the opposite side of the Old 
 Bailey, and that the money found upon me could 
 either be given to such of my friends as I wished 
 or applied in payment for such food as I ordered 
 in. At first I had in my meals from outside; but 
 in a few days I found every shilling I possessed 
 would be needed by my family and for my defence, 
 and I determined to accept the fuU brunt of my 
 position and put up at once with the prison fare. 
 
Newgate. 7 
 
 I was told that I must have a bath, and imme- 
 diately my eyes turned to the water to see if it 
 was clean ; for not long before had appeared those 
 letters in the Tall Mall Gazette of the ' Amateur 
 Casual,' whose graphic description of his bath in 
 water' like weak mutton broth instantly flashed 
 across my mind. Here, however, all was clean 
 — water, towel, and bath-room. The whole, ia 
 fact, being very similar in every way to ordinary 
 second-class baths at the various public establish- 
 ments in London. Soap too was there in plenty, 
 and I have no doubt that with many of the persons 
 they have to receive at Newgate this ' investiture 
 of the bath ' is a very requisite institution. 
 
 On redj'essing, I was desired to precede my 
 ' valet de bain ' up a flight of iron stairs into a 
 large lofby haU with a glass roof' like a railway 
 station, and on each side of which were galleries 
 one above the other, forming tiers, with cells along 
 each, the doors of which were all numbered. On 
 each gallery was a warder in uniform. A number 
 was shouted in a loud voice by my attendant, 
 when a warder on the first flight called me to come 
 up the stairs to him. I did so, and was at once 
 ushered into my cell, and in a few words told what 
 
Five Years' Penal Servitude^ 
 
 I had to do in case I wished to speak to a warder, 
 and shown that everything was clean and in its 
 place, and that I was expected to keep it so. I 
 was told that, if I liked to pay another prisoner to 
 clean my cell, I could, by permission of the Grovemor, 
 have it done for me, but otherwise I should have 
 to do it myself. A printed list of the rules was 
 pointed out to me, and I was advised to study and 
 avoid breaking them. 
 
 The door, on being closed, shut to with a 
 horrid discordant clash, and for the first time I 
 completely realised my terrible position, and felt 
 utterly cast down. I knew at once that, unless the 
 man who had got me into the trouble I then was 
 in could be brought to book, it must be quite a 
 miracle that I could escape a conviction. Nothiug 
 but some curious quirk and quibble of the law or 
 the turning up of my Mephistopheles could save 
 me, and I felt how very little chance there was for 
 me of the latter taking place. As to the legal 
 chance, I knew that everything that the late Mr. 
 James Lewis could do for me he would do. He had 
 known me, man and boy, for over twenty years, 
 and I shall never forget his surprise when he first 
 visited me at the police court in obedience to my 
 summons for his aid. 
 
Newgate. 9 
 
 After a while I examined my cell and its farni- 
 ture. A stone or brick arched room some twelve 
 feet by seven ; white-washed walls spotlessly clean ; 
 a water-closet seat in one corner ; a bright copper 
 wash-basin, burnished like gold, fastened to the 
 wall, with a water-tap over it ; a small flap-table 
 fast to the wall ; a wooden stool ; three slate shelves 
 in one corner, on which were a Bible, Prayer, 
 and Hymn-book. An iron enamelled plate, a tin 
 mng, wooden spoon and salt-box, and a piece of 
 soap were arranged on the two lower shelves in 
 so precise a manner that each separate article 
 seemed to positively glare at me. On the top 
 shelf was a curious roll of what I knew must be 
 bedding of some sort. 
 
 It consisted of a canvas hammock, with straps 
 of leather to stretch it across the cell from iron 
 clamps firmly fixed into the wall, a loose bag bed 
 of coir, two blankets, and a rug, with a coir pillow 
 about as large as a good-sized pincushion. The floor 
 was black asphalt polished uncomfortably bright. 
 The whole place and everything in it seemed hor- 
 ribly clean. I have always had a great aversion to 
 dirt, and before I came here thought that nothing 
 conld be'tco clean. But so fearfully, spotlessly 
 
lo .. Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 clean was this terrible little cell, tliat I felt as if a 
 little dirt, if I could only discover it, would be a 
 comfort, would give the place a more habitable 
 look. No ; a spect of dirt or an article out of its 
 exact place seemed totally out of all question, and, 
 I felt, would be regarded by the genius or spirit of 
 the place, if model prison cells have such haunting 
 them, to be a greater crime than any of its inmates 
 had ever committed in the outer world. 
 
 The window, strongly barred and with iron 
 frames, I climbed to by standing on the closet 
 seat. From it, through a small open door some ten 
 inches by four, I saw over the roofs of the houses 
 the towering dome of St. Paul's, and I could jugt 
 hear the rattle of the street traffic. My attention 
 was then drawn to the door of my apartment; 
 and here I found quite a mechanical study. How 
 much inventive faculty must have been brought to 
 bear before the different appliances of this door 
 and its surroundings arrived at their present 
 almost perfect state ! The first thing that attracted 
 my attention was a cunningly contrived spyhole, 
 covered with fine wire gauze, through which every 
 action of a prisoner inside the cell could be observed 
 without the slightest suspicion on his part. Below 
 
Newgate. 1 1 
 
 this was a trap-door, eighteen inches by twelve, cut 
 in the door itself, but evidently all means of opening 
 or closing it was from the outside, and not under 
 any control of the inmate. In the wall itself, adjoin- 
 ing the door, about two feet from the top, was a 
 something I could not make out at aU. I looked at 
 it and studied it for some time. I wished to drive 
 the thoughts of my position from my mind, and even 
 trifles such as this prison-cell door and its intri- 
 cacies afforded a welcome relief by diverting my 
 ideas for a few moments from the horrors of my 
 situation. This could not be a ventilator, as the 
 contrivances for the free circulation of air I saw 
 were fixed in the wall, high up over the door and 
 down below nearthe floor. ' Ventilation of Prisons.' 
 Do not these three words bring up to one's mind 
 whole piles of Blue Books, visions of curious and 
 wonderful diagrams in mechanics' magazines and 
 encyclopediEe. If one-half the pains were taken to 
 ventilate the homes of the middle and lower classes 
 that are bestowedupon gaols, workhouses, barracks, 
 and hospitals, how much better would it be for 
 British humanity in general. It seems that, so 
 long as we live ' at home at ease,' it matters little 
 how much foul air we breathe ; what dangers 
 
1 2 Five Years Penal Servihide. 
 
 from asphyxia we encounter throngli living in 
 hermetically sealed chambers, with gas burning 
 and consuming its own share of oxygen and ours 
 too. It seems no concern of either builders or 
 architects, how the middle and working classes are 
 stifled in their homes. So long as a man remains 
 free, and to a certain extent prosperous, he may 
 stifle himself or others without any care of his 
 fellow-creatures ; but once let him either fall into 
 poverty and go to the union, or into crime and get 
 into prison, or meet with sickness and accident, 
 then ventilation in workhouse, gaol, and hospital 
 becomes of paramount importance. 
 
 All the talent of the country is then called out, 
 from Dr. Reed to the infatuated man one comes 
 across occasionally, ever ready, can he only get you 
 into a corner, to demonstrate by working model 
 and diagram that, if he could only find some capi- 
 talist who would advance him five hundred pounds, 
 he would save the country countless thousands 
 in the cost of ventilating and warming the whole 
 of our public and private buildings, from Windsor 
 Castle to the last new row of houses rapidly rising 
 into existence at either of the extreme outskirts 
 of this ever-increasing village of London. 
 
Newgate. 13 
 
 Assuring myself it was no ventilator, I con- 
 cluded this puzzling thing mijst have some use. 
 I touched it, and immediately heard a sharp click 
 outside. Everything goes with a click or a snap 
 in prisons. Then a gong-bell was sounded, and 
 while I was wondering if I had done ' anything 
 very wrong, and transgressed some terrible rule, 
 the trap in the door flew open inwards, with a 
 snap- of course, forming a little shelf, and a voice 
 sharply asked, ' Well, what is it ? ' Through the 
 aperture I saw the face of a warder ; not the one 
 I had been shown into the cell by. Thinking it 
 better to ask for something than confess I had 
 been experimentalising for mere curiosity, I in- 
 quired if I could have writing materials to write 
 to my solicitor. No reply; but another sharp 
 snap, and the little trap closed as suddenly as it 
 opened, nearly catching my nose and beard as it 
 whisked past my face. Almost before I could 
 recover from the start it had given me I heard a 
 key inserted in the lock, and the door opening, 
 the warder pointed to an inkstand, pen, and sheet 
 of blotting-paper lying on the ground just outside 
 the cell door. I thanked the man, who evidently 
 was as sparing of his words as he was prompt in 
 
14 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 his action, and seeing no paper or envelopes, asked 
 him if I could get any. Not that evening could I 
 get them, but in the morning. I must speak to 
 the Governor on his coming his regular rounds, 
 and I should have what I required. 
 
 At six in the morning I was roused with 
 the clanging sound of a large bell, and a few 
 minutes after, before I had time to hurry on my 
 clothes, the door of my cell was thrown open by 
 a warder, who passed on to make room for the 
 Deputy-Governor and another warder, the latter 
 of whom carried a book for taking memoranda. 
 I was asked if I required to see the dbctor ; if so, 
 to give my name to be entered on his list. I was 
 then handed two hard brushes, with which I was 
 directed to polish the floor of my cell, and a 
 warder instructed me as to the regulation mode of 
 stowing my hammock and bed on the upper shelf, 
 and folding my blankets and rug. I need hardly 
 say my first attempts were far from satisfactory, 
 either to myself or my instructor. Every morning 
 I had to go on my hands and knees and polish the 
 cell floor, as well as wash and scrub the table, 
 stool, basin, and every article in the room. 
 
 After breakfast, which was served through the 
 
Newgate. 1 5 
 
 little trap in the door, and which consisted of a 
 pint of gruel and a piece of bread, I was told to 
 prepare for chapel. On stepping outside of my 
 cell on to the gallery running round the large hall, 
 I was sharply told to turn round with my face to 
 my cell door to take my Bible, Prayer, and Hymn- 
 book in my hands, and to hold them behind my 
 back. ■ I had ample opportunity for contemplating 
 the outside of the door, and seeing how the 
 various mysterious appliances connected with it 
 were worked. I regarded with great curiosity the 
 spy or inspection hole over the trapdoor, and I then 
 saw how cunningly it was contrived that the 
 inmate should not be able to see that anyone was 
 observing his movements, while it was so con- 
 structed as to enable the person looking to have 
 an almost entire range of the interior of the 
 apartment. I also closely examined the apparatus 
 that caused me so much curiosity on the evening 
 before, and discovered that, on the inmate of a cell 
 touching the spring, it caused a beU-gong to sound 
 and a disc to fly out with the number of the cell 
 painted on it, so that the warder on duty on 
 hearing the gong could see from which cell the 
 signal for communication had been given. The 
 
r6 Five Years^ Penal Servihide. 
 
 prisoner inside has no control over tlie outside 
 disc, so that all attempts at escaping detection if 
 he only touched the spring for curiosity were 
 useless. 
 
 Downstairs and along a stone passage we were 
 marched, passing the doorway of a kitchen, where 
 the savoury fumes advertised the fact that the 
 soup for that day's dinner was already on the boil. 
 Then, further on, we came to a large low-pitched 
 hall, in the centre of which was an apartment, the 
 walls and door of which were glazed with clear 
 thick plate glass. 
 
 This is the consulting room, where prisoners 
 see and consult with their solicitors, imder full 
 visible inspection of the prison officials outside ; 
 but so well "has all possibility of sound escaping 
 been provided against, that the prisoner can reveal 
 the most important secrets to his legal adviser 
 without fear of any other ear catching the faintest 
 whisper. How many confessions of guilt have 
 been poured forth into the ears of solicitors in 
 that room! How many things so apparently 
 mysterious to the public are there made plain to 
 the man who is to do his best to circumvent the 
 prosecution and get his client off! Here too 
 
Newgate. 1 7 
 
 those prisoners whose friends can obtain an order 
 from an Alderman or Visiting Justice can see 
 their wives or relatives, but then the door is 
 always left open, so that conversations can be 
 overheard. How many a secret unknown but to 
 the lawyer and his client could those glass walls 
 reveal, and how many a sad tale of parting and 
 despair could they unfold, of separation for many 
 long years, and in too many cases for ever in this 
 world, between husband and wife, mother and 
 child, father and son ! I could enumerate several 
 who in that room took a last farewell kiss of wife 
 and child, and of broken-hearted parent — men 
 who, years after, when toiling on, working out their 
 dread wearisome sentence with broken health and 
 constitution, have looked, oh, so fondly ! back to 
 that last terrible but still sweet parting, and at last 
 have broken down ere half their time is out, and 
 have died in the prison infirmary, attended only by 
 strangers, and surrounded by everything to make 
 death, if possible, more dreadful. 
 
 I am, however, forgetful that we are marching 
 to chapel. Leaving the glass room on our right, 
 we ascended a dark winding stair into the chapel, 
 a good-sized lofty square room. The first thing 
 
1 8 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 that struck me on entering were two large cages 
 — large spaces parted off with iron bars. Over one 
 of these was a gallery with a thick curtain in 
 front, which I immediately concluded was for the 
 exclusive use of the female prisoners. Each class 
 of prisoners was kept separate and distinct. In 
 one of the cages were about twenty who had been 
 tried and sentenced, and were waiting to be 
 drafted off to the several prisons or convict estab- 
 lishments at which they were to serve out their 
 sentences. 
 
 All were cropped a,nd shaven close, every ves- 
 tige of beard being removed, and their hair clipped 
 down to about an inch in length. They were clad in 
 rough grey short jackets, trowsers, and vests, with 
 coarse blue striped shirts. In the opposite cage 
 were those committed for trial, and in the body of 
 the chapel, with our backs to the ' committals,' 
 and facing the women's gallery and the cage full 
 of convicted prisoners, I and some eight or ten 
 remanded prisoners sat on open forms. 
 
 On one side of the pulpit and reader's desk 
 was the Governor's pew, in which he was standing, 
 inspecting the entrance and the arrangement in 
 their respective places of the unhappy individuals 
 
Newgate. 19 
 
 under his charge. The Governor was an elderly 
 man with short silvery hair, rather short in stature, 
 particularly neat in his dress and with gleaming 
 white teeth that attracted the eye every time he 
 smiled, which he seemed to do somewhat me- 
 chanically. The Chaplain (or Ordinary I believe 
 is the proper term for his reverence of Newgate) 
 having arrived, was followed by the Deputy-Gover- 
 nor, who securely locked the door, and then took 
 his station in a .pew on the opposite side of the 
 pulpit and reading-desk to that of his superior 
 officer. 
 
 All being in their places, the door securely 
 fastened, and the warders stationed with their 
 respective classes of prisoners, the white head of 
 the Governor nodded a kind of Freemasonry signal 
 to the Chaplain to begin, while a self-complacent 
 smile gave good opportunity for a ftill display of 
 dazzling white teeth, and a spotless shirt front 
 rose and fell as its wearer heaved a sigh of 
 satisfaction that aU his birds were there, and none 
 had flown away during the night Perhaps it 
 was that the situation I was in rendered me more 
 amenable to good and serious impressions, but 
 never did I enter more heartUy into the few and 
 
 32 
 
20 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 simple prayers of the Morning Service than I 
 did that day. Prayers really prayed, without 
 suspicion of intoning, and the reading of the 
 Daily Lessons, with the exposition given by the 
 reverend gentleman, were like balm to my troubled, 
 anxious heart. 
 
 Here let me express how highly I appreciate 
 this gentleman. During my stay in Newgate, 
 which was for many weets, I received from him 
 the very kindest treatment. Without being ob- 
 trusive, he kindly and lovingly urged his great 
 Master's message. How often have I since recalled 
 to mind the many little acts of kindness, and 
 the encouraging, really sweet words of comfort, 
 'words in season,' I have received from him; 
 and frequently now do I remember more than one 
 conversation we have had together. I visit Lon- 
 don occasionally when business or family matters 
 require me to do so, and several times have I seen 
 him in the streets, and have been sorely tempted 
 to go and make myself known, and thank him 
 once again for all he did for me during those 
 dreadful weeks I spent at Newgate. Never have 
 I met a man more fitted for his ofSce than he is. 
 Eew men have the gift— and it is a gift which 
 
Newgate. 2 1 
 
 many good men try in vain to attain — of dropping 
 in a few seasonable words, conveying comfort 
 judiciously mingled with reproof, that Mr. Jones 
 possesses. Without being obtrusive, with a com- 
 plete absence of anything approaching to ' cant,' 
 he has the happy knack of just saying to an 
 erring man the right thing at the right time, and 
 in the right way. If I read him aright, no one 
 would sooner see through the hypocritical dodges 
 of the ' very repentant sinner,' or give less encou- 
 ragement to mock sighs and crocodile tears of 
 the man who ' doth protest too much,' and who 
 is far too ready to be ' converted ' by the * parson's 
 patter ' if he sees a chance of its getting him any 
 prison indulgence. I only wish more of our 
 Church clergy were like this truly worthy man. 
 If half our English churches had incumbents like 
 him, it would be a blessing to our country. Should 
 these pages ever meet his eye, let him have the 
 satisfaction of knowing that one, at any rate, of his 
 ' parishioners ' thinks of him with gratitude, not 
 merely for his acts of kindness in a time of bitter, 
 deep adversity, but for having caused a new light 
 to spring up in his heart. 
 
 It was from the preaching of Mr. Jones T first 
 
22 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 grasped and realised the pure, great, simple fact 
 that salvation was free, perfectly free, to everyone 
 who would really, truly, and as ' a little child,' 
 accept it with a ftdl determination to repent truly 
 and, by God's help — help to be obtained only but 
 surely by fervent, sincere prayer — strive to lead a 
 new life. He also taught me the great fact that 
 man needs no one to stand between himself and 
 his God but Christ his Saviour; and no man, 
 priest or layman, ordained or unordained, conse- 
 crated or not, to be a go-between or medium 
 between Jesus and sinful man. I always feel 
 grateM to this prison chaplain, and were it not 
 that I dare not, for my children's sakes, some of 
 whom have never known of my disgrace, or where 
 * father travelled to those long four years,' make 
 myself known to him, I would seek him out and 
 personally thank him for all he did for me. 
 
 But with me and the world bygones are bygones, 
 and many years have now passed since those bitter 
 days ; and though I have never adopted any change 
 of name, as so many who have gone through simi- 
 lar troubles have been compelled to do, I have 
 returned to the world, and the world, which has a 
 short memory, thank goodness— at any rate the 
 
Newgate. 23 
 
 world where I live — has no idea that I, now 
 moTing in what is known as respectable life, ever 
 wore a convict's dress. 
 
 Let me here state what I think is a remark- 
 able fact, and which quite contradicts my own 
 preconceived notions, and also the prevailing 
 opinion of the world — that a discharged prisoner 
 is always in danger of being ' hunted down ' by 
 others who have known him in his hour of trouble. 
 I suppose that during the four years that I 
 served 'Her Majesty for nothing' I must have 
 met and been daily seen by many hundreds of 
 feUow-prisoners of every class and every grade ; 
 indeed, I may say thousands, taking into calcula- 
 tion the constant changes that were always taking 
 place both at Millbank and Dartmoor. All these 
 men must have known me well by sight, and more 
 particularly as for a long time, as future pages 
 wiU show, I held a special position in one of the 
 convict establishments — a position that made me, 
 to a great extent, prominent among the men, 
 and moreover would bring them into a knowledge 
 of nly name, for, unlike the majority of the 
 prisoners, I had no alias, and was tried, convicted, 
 and registered under my proper name. 
 
24 Fiv^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 I have, since my liberation, visited on business 
 many large cities in England and Ireland, and 
 travelled a great deal by first, second, and third 
 class carriages; have crossed the Channel some 
 sixty or seventy times; have stayed at hotels; 
 have visited churches, public buildings, theatres, 
 and in fact gone everywhere, and never once have 
 I met one man I ever saw in prison, with two ex- 
 ceptions, and those were men, like myself, who 
 had been in good positions — gentlemen whom 
 I arranged to meet. One formerly held Her 
 Majesty's comniission. I had the pleasure of 
 seeing him off to the New World, and I often hear 
 of his doing well in the 'Far West.' The other, 
 a man well connected, and whom I had met and 
 known many years before I saw him in Millbank 
 Prison, has been a dear and good friend to me. 
 He, poor fellow, has left this world, dying a short 
 while since, after several years' suffering, from a 
 cold caught at Dartmoor Prison, through the 
 sheer brutality of a warder there, who, to please 
 his own savage whim, compelled my poor friend, 
 always a delicate man, and one who had lived many 
 years in a tropical climate, to stand half undressed 
 in front of an open window through which a pitiless 
 
Newgate. 25 
 
 storm of sleet and snow was pelting as it can only 
 do at Dartmoor, some 1,800 feet above the sea. 
 The weather that terrible morning was so bad that 
 not one of the outside gangs went to work. A. 
 was stripped to his trousers and shirt, washing, 
 and, being the end man, was close to the window, 
 which blew open. He stepped a few paces on one 
 side and closed it, without first asking permission 
 of the brute who had charge of the ward. He 
 was an ignorant creature who stood greatly on his 
 dignity; his dignity was offended, and he com- 
 pelled poor A. to stand, stripped and wet as he 
 was, at that open window for five minutes. He 
 did so — was compelled to do so, or would have 
 been reported ; and a report by ' Long-nosed Smith' 
 meant at the least a loss of 48 marks, equivalent 
 to a week's remission of time, or perhaps three days 
 bread and water in solitary confinement. The 
 long-nosed warder's dignity was satisfied, though 
 he himself would rather have been disobeyed, and 
 had a good report against what he would call a 
 * gentleman lag.' I dare say he forgets the cir- 
 cumstance among the many acts of brutality he 
 has to my knowledge committed ; but that day he 
 murdered my friend. Poor A. caught a cold he 
 
26 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 never recovered from ; it settled on his lungs, and, 
 after a long and paiaful illness, it carried him off 
 at least 10 or 16 years before his time. 
 
 I fear, however, I am wandering from the 
 chapel at Newgate, and going too fast into scenes 
 that are entirely shut out from the public eye, and 
 few of their witnesses care to tell of. 
 
 The service over, and the Chaplain having re- 
 tired, the Governor was the first to lead the way 
 out. The door having been first unlocked by his 
 Deputy, down the stairs we marched, Indian 
 file, with our hands behind us, like school boys 
 saying their lessons ; and at the bottom, on reach- 
 ing the hall, I was beckoned to cross over to a 
 little office where the Governor was standing facing 
 the door, and giving directions to a clerk at a table. 
 I was told to take off my boots, and to stand 
 under a machine to measure my height. I was 
 asked my name — age — where bom — when — where 
 did I live — had I any trade or profession — mar- 
 ried or single — how many children — had I ever 
 been in prison before — what was my religion — 
 could I read or write ? The answers of all these 
 were duly entered by the clerk. I was then asked 
 if I intended to employ a solicitor — would my 
 
Newgate. 27 
 
 friends supply me with changes of linen — was I 
 suffering from any disease or Ulness that would 
 necessitate my going into the infirmary. I was 
 then told to go over to the Chaplain's room, on the 
 opposite side of the great hall, and under the 
 stairs leading to the Chapel. Here I had to wait 
 a few moments till he came in. I took a survey 
 of the room. It was small, with a few book-shelves, 
 containing the ordinary works one finds in a clergy- 
 man's study — the usual standard works of reference 
 on divinity; and round the room were an old set 
 of Hogarth's Idle and Industrious Apprentices, in 
 old black frames — I daresay they were put there 
 in the artist's lifetime, and should not be surprised 
 to hear he had himself presented them. 
 
 On entering, Mr. Jones bowed, and said he 
 presumed he need not ask me the usual- questipns, 
 could I read and write. He inquired what I was 
 accused of — had I good legal advice — how were 
 my family provided for in case of matters going 
 wrong with me. He informed me that if my friends 
 knew any of the Visiting Justices, my wife or re- 
 lations could get an order for a private visit instead 
 of coming to the public grating, which I will pre- 
 sently describe. Also that there was a library in 
 
28 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 the prison, and that I could have any books to 
 amuse myself with, and that if there were any 
 books on his own shelves I should like to read, I 
 was welcome to do so. He warned me that all 
 letters, both from and to me, would be read by the 
 Governor, and that I had better say nothing in any 
 of them that I did not wish seen, and to caution 
 my wife and friends to the same effect. He told 
 me that others besides the Governor had means of 
 access to my letters in their transit through the 
 Governor's office, and that if they contained any- 
 thing bearing on my case, it was not unlikely that 
 the prosecutors, who in such cases employ their 
 own detectives, would get hold of the information, 
 and use it to their advantage. He cautioned me 
 to leave no letters in my cell when I left it, and, if I 
 did not require them, to destroy aU letters as soon 
 as read, for that if the prosecutors' solicitor wanted 
 to get information, they were never very particular 
 how they obtained it, and that half-a-crown to 
 a warder would perhaps aid them considerably. 
 He also cautioned me of speaking of my case or 
 affairs to any one, official or not. I thanked him 
 sincerely for his information and advice, and 
 acted on it. 
 
. Ne!wgate. 29 
 
 No sooner had I regained my cell than I 
 received a visit from the Governor, duly attended, 
 like any other commander-in-chief, with his aides- 
 de-camp. He inquired if I wanted anything from 
 him. I made some few trifling requests, which 
 were granted. He looked all round the place 
 up and down, and he was gone. I can hardly 
 describe the relief this man's departure always 
 gave me. His visits were as regular as clockwork 
 every morning, and he was extremely polite — too 
 much so by half — and that it was, I think, that was 
 so unbearable to me. I always felt that he would 
 show me exactly the same extreme of&cial polite- 
 ness if he were going to conduct me to the 
 gallows. Indeed, one day while I was there an 
 execution did take place. Of course we saw 
 nothing of it. I only heard in the very early 
 morning the carpenters' prepar^itions. I knew 
 the man was to be hung, and that there was no 
 little excitement among the public about it, and I 
 could not lie awake in the night without thinking 
 of him and conjecturing how near his cell might 
 be to mine. The morning of the execution we 
 had no chapel, but the Governor's visit was as 
 punctual as usual, and there was the same terribly 
 
30 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 polite smile that always appeared to be so me- 
 chanical and so cold. Having superintended the 
 hanging a man had no more disturbed his dreadful 
 serenity than an extra new-laid &g^ or particu- 
 larly mild bloater at his breakfast would have 
 done. I got to loathe the man, and I am afraid 
 I showed it. 
 
 After the Governor's diurnal visit all the re- 
 manded prisoners were called out and marched off 
 into a stone-paved yard, surrounded by high brick 
 walls. It was summer, and insufferably hot, and 
 what little fresh air that might have strayed into 
 the city was utterly powerless and incapable of 
 getting down into that yard. Neither could the 
 actual simshine, but its heat did, and the place was 
 like an oven with the lid off. Here I had an 
 opportunity of having a look at my fellow pri- 
 soners imder remand. They were of all grades of 
 society, from the City merchant to the wretched 
 little street Arab, whose destination in aU pro- 
 bability, after Newgate would be a reformatory. 
 Among them were no less than three Post Office 
 letter-carriers, and one of them came in contact 
 with me some two years after at Dartmoor, where 
 I learned from him all his history, and a good 
 
Newgate. 3 1 
 
 deal of the causes and effects of Post Office letter 
 robberies, which I will give the reader the benefit 
 of by and by. 
 
 There were also two very decent-looking and 
 respectably-dressed lads, who should have been at 
 some ordinary boarding-school, but instead of 
 studying Euclid and Delectus, their readings had 
 been of the ' Jack Sheppard ' and ' Claude Duval ' 
 style of literature in the penny dreadfuls, and 
 they were now in Newgate awaiting their trial for 
 burglary and half murdering an old housekeeper 
 in some City ofBces. All London was horrified at 
 the time on reading the account of the offices 
 being robbed, and the old housekeeper discovered 
 weltering in her blood in a supposed dying state 
 at the foot of the stairs. All London pictured to 
 itself one or more terrible ruffians of the BiU 
 Sikes stamp, men who were first-class adepts at 
 their unlawful profession, and had graduated 
 under scientific teaching in either Seven Dials or 
 Whitechapel. Great was the public astonish- 
 ment to find the perpetrators were two schoolboys 
 in their teens. 
 
 Bound and round the yard in Indian file, some 
 three yards apart, di(i-we pace for nearly an hour. 
 
.>2 
 
 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 Two warders were there to keep order and check 
 any talking between the prisoners. 
 
 On certain days of the week we were visited 
 by detectives and warders from other prisons, who 
 came to take stock and see if there were any 
 ' old friends.' I noticed several times that recog- 
 nitions were made, and sometimes a man was 
 called to a corner of the yard to undergo a closer 
 scrutiny, and in more than one case I saw a com- 
 parison with photographs. Acquaintances were 
 claimed that were not at all cordially reciprocated, 
 and in more than one case Jones of the present 
 moment was found to be identical with Smith of 
 HoUoway or Brown of Clerkenwell. Many were the 
 stout protestations that the detectives or warders 
 were mistaken, but I fancy they were generally 
 correct. One of these men afterwards told me it 
 was not so much the recognising the face and 
 figure of the individual that they depended on in 
 the first instance, as the fact that in nine cases 
 out of ten an ' old bird ' would betray himself. 
 The moment the detectives came into the yard 
 those whom they sought would either slink past in 
 hopes of not being recognised or else at once assume 
 such a look of injured innocence, mingled with 
 
Newgate. 3 3 
 
 defiance, that lie overdid it, -when the officer 
 'spotted' him directly, and if he could not 
 ' reckon him up ' himself, would mark him for 
 the attention of some one else he thought would 
 be likely to know something of him before. Be- 
 fore coming into the yard where the prisoners are 
 exercising, they invariably have a good survey 
 from some unseen corner. They mark then the 
 bearing and look of the prisoners before they are 
 aware detectives are near. On entering they note 
 any change in their demeanour. The new man, 
 the green hand, takes little or no heed of the 
 entrance of the officers, who are seldom in uni- 
 form ; he, in his innocence, knows them not, nor 
 the purport of their visit, and passes by as usual 
 and without heeding. Not so the old hand. The 
 moment the men he looks upon as his enemies 
 enter the yard, he winces, and in one way or the 
 other I have mentioned he betrays himself. 
 
 After the morning exercise dinner is served, 
 consisting of a few potatoes, bread, and some two 
 or three ounces of meat ; or soup made from the 
 liquor the meat of the day before was boiled in, 
 and vegetables. Let me here remark that, of the 
 four prisons I was in, the denizens of Newgate 
 D 
 
34 Five Years*" Penal Servitude. 
 
 are the worst fed of any. This applies both to 
 quantity and quality. Newgate, I believe, is 
 under the management or superintendence of that 
 august body the Court of Aldermen, interfered 
 with now and then by the still more august body 
 the Court of Common Council. Every member of 
 these two bodies has naturally, and ex officio, a 
 perfect abhorrence of naughty people who get 
 into prison, never mind whether eventually they 
 turn out to be innocent or not. Such people of 
 course must be punished. Punishment is the very 
 antithesis of enjoyment or pleasure, and no people 
 in the world appreciate the pleasures of good 
 dinners and the enjoyment of good digestion 
 better than Aldermen and Common Councilmen. 
 If good digestion., is a pleasure, bad digestion is 
 logically a punishment, and, truly, whoever in- 
 vented the mode of boUing the beef as they 
 do at Newgate went far in carrying out this 
 system of deterrent punishment. If the object is 
 to make the meat as hard and indigestible as 
 possible, and at the same time impart as little 
 flavour and nourishment to the ' soup,' it is at- 
 tained to perfection. The Newgate Trancatelli 
 should give the world his receipt. With the 
 
Newgate. 35 
 
 same materials properly cooked, really good 
 dinners could be given to the prisoners ; but the 
 object is, not to get the utmost nourishment out 
 of the meat, but to prevent the meat losing as 
 little weight as possible in the process the au- 
 thorities facetiously caU. ' cooking.' 
 
 During the afternoon we had another turn 
 round the yard at exercise, and it was no little 
 relief when I was again marched up to my cell 
 and knew I should not be troubled to move out of 
 it again tiU. next day. 
 
 A few mornings after my arrival I noticed 
 the Governor did not look so complacently as 
 he usually did, and a few moments afterwards 
 a warder opened my door to inform me that 
 the Governor was not satisfied with my cell 
 floor, and unless it was cleaner and the marks 
 effaced where I had walked up and down — paced 
 like a caged animal, for confinement comes very 
 hard upon a man at first — he should take away 
 my dinner — deprive me of my two or three lumps 
 of leather-like substance I tried in vain to per- 
 suade iri.yself was meat. I could have replied, 
 ' Let him do so by all means and eat it himself,' 
 but I first of all remembered where I was, that if, 
 
 ■a 2 
 
36 Five Years' Pettal Servitude. 
 
 as I feared, I should remain here some time, 
 it was not well to begia by quarrelling with the 
 authorities. 
 
 Certaiu days of the week were visiting days. 
 The friends of prisoners not convicted are allowed 
 to come and see them and converse through wire 
 gratings — two gratings, with a space of some 
 three or four feet between them, in which stands 
 or sits a warder. Any parcels of clothes or other 
 not prohibited articles are passed first to the warder 
 to see there are no ' contraband ' things among 
 them, and then, after examination, they are handed 
 by him to the prisoner. Either half-an-hour or 
 an hour — ^I forget which — this visiting goes on ; 
 the prisoners — or such of them as have friends 
 come to see them — stand in a row against these 
 railings, and their friends opposite. Everyone is 
 talking at once with his own friend, and the con- 
 sequence is a perfect Babel. AU are too interested 
 in their own individual matters to heed what is 
 going on between his neighbour and friend. 
 Wives and children come on dififerent days 
 to friends; and as I was spared the extra 
 affliction of my wife visiting me in this way, 
 through the kindness of friends, who obtained 
 
Newgate. 37 
 
 orders for her from time to time to see me in the 
 glass room, I can say little or nothing as to what 
 these meetings were like- 
 When, after being several times remanded, I 
 was at last committed for trial, I found, on my re- 
 turn to the prison, that I was no longer to inhabit 
 my old cell. I was moved up a flight higher; 
 but the regulations seemed exactly the same, ex- 
 cept that at chapel I no longer sat in the centre 
 of the hall, but in one of the cages with iron bars 
 in front, and opposite to the one where I had seen 
 the convicted men on my first arrival, and who had 
 been removed some time before to the respective 
 prisons where their sentences were to be worked 
 out : those with two years and under to Holloway, 
 and those for penal servitude for five years (the 
 lowest sentence) and upwards, either to Millbank 
 or Pentonville, where nine months ' separate' con- 
 * finement takes place previous to the drafting into 
 what is called ' The Works,' i.e. one of the convict 
 establishments at Chatham, Portsmouth, Portland, 
 or Dartmoor, unless a man is insane, in which 
 case. he is sent to the Lunatic Convict Prison at 
 Broadmoor. 
 
 So long as a man is in prison before trial atid 
 condemnation, he has no work of any sort to do 
 
38 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 beyond the cleaning his own cell and utensils. 
 Books are allowed him and writirig materials. 
 Whatever a man writes is inspected and read by 
 the Governor ; and every sheet of paper — writiiig 
 paper — is counted and has to be accounted for. 
 This is with a view of preventing prisoners from 
 writing letters to their friends outside without 
 their undergoing the inspection of the Governor. 
 That Love laughs at locksmiths is an old say- 
 ing, and so he does at gaolers, however keen their 
 watch may be. I wanted to write many things to 
 my wife I did not care about the authorities seeing, 
 and I set to work how to scheme it. I did not 
 want to waste money on bribing the warders, 
 though I saw there were several who were to be 
 purchased at a very reasonable price; so I adopted 
 another plan. Every morning a certain number 
 of small sheets of blue paper were served out to 
 each man for closet purposes. It'mattered little 
 to me whether the paper I wrote on was blue or 
 green. I managed to get from one of the warders 
 a very liberal supply every day, and in a few days 
 saved up quite a little stock of it. When I had pen, 
 ink, and paper to write my authorised letters, I 
 wrote on the Governor'^ paper just so much as I 
 
Newgate. 39 
 
 cared about his seeing, and on the little sheets of 
 bine paper I wrote all I wished to be private. My 
 next difficulty was to get it carried out of prison 
 and posted to my wife. 
 
 One day my solicitor came, and after our 
 interview in connexion with my defence was 
 finished, I asked him to take my letter and 
 post it. He refused, expressing his great re- 
 gret at being compelled to do so, but said he was 
 under a pledge. I will not be sure he did not 
 say he was sworn not to convey anything out for 
 a prisoner. I then changed the conversation, and 
 suggesting some alterations in the statement I 
 had written out for him to prepare the brief upon, 
 arranged that I should make the alterations, and 
 his clerk should call for them. The clerk Aid so 
 later in the day. I did not ask the young man, 
 who came to the glags room to me, as I had his 
 master, whether he would post it or not, but gave 
 it to him as if it was of no consequence, and simply 
 desired him to post it. He did so, and it arrived 
 safely at its destination. 
 
 Again I wanted to write just before the trial. 
 I did so, and very voluminously, for I had much 
 to say. This packet I handed from the dock in 
 
40 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 court, before judge, jury, and everyone else, to 
 Mr. Lewis, and asked him to give it to a relative 
 who was near at hand, and he did so. Whether 
 he knew what it was, or anyone noticed or not, I 
 do not know, but that also reached its destination 
 in safety. 
 
 My object in writing these pages being not to 
 bring myself too prominently forward or make 
 myself the hero of my own story, but to give an 
 authentic narrative of the convict service from a 
 point of view not often offered to the world, I 
 will say nothing of my trial beyond the fact that, 
 though the prosecutors were bound to' take the 
 proceedings they did, they were quite aware I was 
 not the man they would have liked to have seen in 
 the dock. They gave me a strong recommenda- 
 tion to mercy, which the judge aiBEbrded me the full 
 benefit of by pronouncing the lightest sentence the 
 law would permit him to do — Five Tears' Penal 
 Servitude. 
 
 When I returned to Newgate after my convic- 
 tion and sentence, I immediately came under 
 another class, and my real imprisonment com- 
 menced. On arrival I was marched downstairs to 
 the same floor as the baths. There I stripped off 
 
Newgate. 4 1 
 
 the clothes of a free Englishman to don those of 
 a convict. I had been previously told that what- 
 ever clothes I wore or had when convicted would 
 he forfeited; I took care therefore not to wear too 
 good a suit, and all the extra clothes I had in the 
 prison for change I had sent away previously; 
 so that what I stood upright in was air I ' for- 
 feited to the Crown.' The warder who acted as 
 my valet in supplying me with my new suit in- 
 formed me that when I was discharged — ' if you 
 live to go through it,' he kindly added in a paren- 
 thesis—Her Most Gracious Majesty would give me 
 a brand-new suit to make my reappearance in the 
 world in. To say I felt easy in either body or mind 
 in my new costume would be far from the truth. 
 
 When I had completed my horrid toilet, and 
 selected from a bundle of greasy, dirty-looking 
 things what was supposed to be a woollen cap of 
 the Scotch bonnet type, I heartily thanked Grod 
 there was no looking-glass near. 
 
 On being marched off to my cell I found I had 
 to mount higher in the world, to the top landing, 
 and I was located on the north side of the hall, 
 having hitherto been on the south. 
 
 The first thing that struck me on entering my 
 
42 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 new abode was a smell of tar-.-' good, wholesome, 
 honest tar.' Having been at sea several times in 
 my early life, and always more or less connected 
 with shipping, the smell was not in any way dis- 
 agreeable, but it told me my long days of forced 
 idleness had come to an end. I should have very 
 little time for reading. The smell of tar just gave 
 me a gentle hint that oakum-picking was one of 
 the occupations prison authorities have invented 
 for their charges to amuse themselves with. 
 
 The cell was an exact counterpart of the other, 
 except that the dust from the oakum had taken 
 off a good deal of the brilliant cleanliness of the 
 floor and walls. 
 
 That night I slept but little. What I had 
 dreaded had come to pass. It was an actual fact ; 
 I was a convict. Until the sentence was pro- 
 nounced it seemed a long way off, but now it was 
 too terribly near. Five long years ; yet mine was 
 the lightest sentence of any that session. How 
 grateful did I feel when I compared my sentence 
 of five with that of others — fourteen and twenty 
 years, and even life. The man sentenced just be- 
 fore me had a ' lifer,' and another one in another 
 court twenty years from another judge. When 
 
Newgate. , 43 
 
 my judge said five years I could have hugged him 
 in gratitude. My heart sent up one long silent 
 shout of praise and thanksgiving to heaven. All 
 that night I thought of my own good fortune, my 
 own light sentence compared to the dreadful ones of 
 others. I uttered praises and thanks. Five years 
 would soon slip by. I looked back and saw how 
 quickly the last five years had passed and took 
 courage. I thought how soon five years would 
 pass, and I had hopes. I was still a young man. 
 I should barely be middle-aged at the end of my 
 time. Five years ! I could, with God's help, sur- 
 vive that, and return once again^to my dear ones, 
 whom I had in the meantime left to struggle on in 
 a cold world without me. When I thought of one 
 man I had seen a day or two before, who had been 
 sentenced to twenty years the first day of the ses- 
 sions, who tried to look callous and unconcerned, 
 and to pass it off with a laugh, I shuddered as I 
 tried to imagine what he now felt, alone in his 
 cell, and as I did so again thanked heaven that 
 my lot was only five. 
 
 The next morning, while I was cleaning my 
 cell, three pieces of junk or old rope, that had been 
 part of the standing rigging of some old ship, were 
 
44 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 flung into my cell, with an intimation that I 
 should have a ' fiddle ' presently. What a fiddle 
 might be I knew not, and hardly gave myself the 
 trouble to conjecture. After some little time a 
 warder I had never seen before, except at a 
 distance, entered my cell, and told me I should 
 have to pick 4 lbs. of oakum every day while I 
 was there, or else my ' grub would run short.' I 
 mentally replied, I hope you may get it. However, 
 as he saw I knew no more about picking oakum 
 than I did of Chinese, he said he would come 
 after breakfast and set me to rights, so I had a 
 little respite. I looked at my hands and sighed, 
 ' Farewell, a long farewell, to all thy whiteness.' 
 If anyone prides himself on a nice hand and 
 filbert nails, let him steer clear of oakum-picking. 
 After breakfast the taskmaster warder came in, 
 bringing with him the ' fiddle ' on which I was to 
 play a tune called ' Four pounds of oakum a day.' 
 It consisted of nothing but a piece of rope and a 
 long crooked nail. He first showed me how to 
 break up the block of junk and to divide the 
 strands of the rope. The 4 lbs. in three small 
 blocks did not look so very much after all, but 
 when pulled to pieces and divided into strands it 
 
Newgate. 45 
 
 seemed to grow wonderfully in size, and my heart 
 began to sink. I at once congratulated myself on 
 not being a large eater, as tbere was no doubt 
 but my ' grub ' would run very short if it depended 
 on my oakum-picking. Then, when the strands 
 were all divided, he showed me how to puU them to 
 pieces, and how to use the fiddle to help me. I 
 set to work, making up my mind it must be done. 
 I made but slow progress, and found it hurt my 
 finger and thumb ends, for they were quite unused 
 to any such work. When I had worked for an 
 hour I looked at the heap of oakum at my side 
 and felt quite encouraged, it looked such a lot; 
 but when I turned round and saw the row of 
 strands of rope on the other side, and how little 
 inroad I had made "into my task, my heart sank 
 again within me. 
 
 I was now on the side of the prison nearest to 
 Newgate Street. My cell was on the top. floor, 
 and my window open, so tha.t now I heard much 
 plainer than before the noise of the street traflic, 
 and I could not help a sigh when I thought how 
 long it would be before I could join again in the 
 busy throng of free men. 
 
 At chapel next morning I, with others who 
 
4 6 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 had been tried at the same sessions, was marched 
 into the cage under the women's gallery and 
 locked in. Once a day only were we exercised out 
 of doors, and that in another much smaller yard 
 than I had walked in before. 
 
 Every morning the quantum of 'junk' was 
 served out, and in the evening the taskmaster 
 came round with weights and scales to take each 
 man's oakum. When a prisoner had picked his 
 4 lbs. his time was his own, and he might do what 
 he liked, but I never did complete my quantum. 
 I had to work away till the time for collecting the 
 oakum arrived, about 9 p.m. The first day I did not . 
 do six ounces. I expected every day the Governor 
 would find fault, but as every day the quantity I 
 picked increased, and they saw I always kept at 
 work, nothing was said, tiU one day the Governor 
 said he must have a certain quantity done, and he 
 reduced my allowance from 4 lbs. to 3 lbs., and 
 insisted on my doing that. The utmost I had 
 ever done in one day before was 2 J lbs., so I began 
 to think trouble was before me. 
 
 One morning the chaplain walked into my cell, 
 
 and, sitting down, he entered into conversation as 
 
 V usual. This was the first visit I had had from 
 
Newgate. 47 
 
 him since my conviction. He watched me at work 
 for some time. 
 
 ' I see you are not used to that work,' said he, 
 ' let me do a little, and show you an easier method.' 
 
 He then took some of the straaids and showed 
 me that, by beating and rubbing them, a lot to- 
 gether, they are softened very materially, which 
 rendered the after-work of picking them to pieces 
 much easier. He then asked me what sentence 
 I had received, and told me there was nothing for 
 me now to do but to resign myself to it. 
 
 ' You must,' said he, 'just consider yourself as 
 a slave till your time is out. Every action of your 
 life will have to be just what your taskmasters 
 may command you to do. Try and bear up meekly 
 and siibmissively. Avoid giving offence to any of 
 the officials, and remember that, though your body 
 is condemned to slavery, your thoughts, your mind, 
 and heart are free — free to commune with God, 
 free to. pray, free to praise, and free to repent. 
 You may in after-life reclaim yourself and actually 
 look back upon this very punishment as a blessing. 
 Blessings you little dream of may, by God's mercy, 
 arise out of what is now so bitter a trial.' 
 
 He then explained to me that by good conduct 
 
48 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 I could get a remission of between twelve and 
 thirteen months off my time. 
 
 About four or five days after my sentence— I 
 think it was on a Saturday — a warder entered my 
 cell with another prisoner to crop and shave me. 
 I knew this must come, but dreaded it greatly. 
 Shaving I had renounced for many years, and wore 
 my beard long and full, and years ago the idea of 
 being shaved by another man was always most 
 repugnant to me, and what I had nevermore than 
 two or three times submitted to. I begged to be 
 allowed to shave myself; but no ! that was quite 
 contrary to rules. Whether they thought I should 
 attempt to cut my own throat I know not, but I 
 had to submit, and painful enough it was, for the 
 volunteer barber was very far from a proficient. I 
 was clean scraped and my hair clipped to about 
 half to three-quarters of an inch long. 
 
 The prisoner, who during the operation was 
 very communicative and was not interrupted by 
 the warder, told me he had done a 'lagging' 
 before, and knew what it all was, and among a great 
 deal he told me, the major part of which I found 
 to be very incorrect, was that shaving had been 
 abolished on the ' works ' as some men had cut 
 
Newgate. 49 
 
 their throats, but that the beards were cropped 
 down as close as scissors could clip them without 
 cutting the skin. 
 
 The only things I had been allowed to retain 
 in Newgate were my comb, brushes, and tooth 
 brush. Alas ! they were almost useless now, for it 
 would have puzzled the cleverest of Truefitt's 
 'artistes" to have made a parting in my short 
 hair. 
 
 Sometimes in the night my cell door would be 
 opened, and the flash of a lantern thrown sud- 
 denly across my face would wake me up. It was 
 the Deputy Governor or Chief Warder going his 
 rounds. Let me here say that the Deputy of 
 Newgate I found as agreeable a man as his 
 superior was the opposite. WhUe being firm and 
 properly strict, he was not without feeling and 
 kindness of heart. One day, on my asking some 
 trifling favour of him, he said he thought it was 
 hardly the strict rule of the prison, yet I should 
 have it hard enough by-and-by, and he would 
 grant it. 
 
 My departure from Newgate was now drawing 
 nigh. I was soon to remove from the vulgar city, 
 but where to I could not learn ; in fact the officials 
 E 
 
50 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 themselves know not till tlie order comes down 
 whether a man is to he sent to the ' salubrious air * 
 of Pentonville Model Prison, or to the more 
 fashionable West-end quarter near South Bel- 
 gravia, Millbank Penitentiary. 
 
 A few nights before our removal I was aroused 
 by the sounds of the huriying to and fro on the land- 
 ings by warders in boots. Warders on night duty 
 always wear slippers, and steal about from spy-hole 
 to spy-hole as noiselessly as cats. This night there 
 was a great scuffling and tramping about for some 
 little time. In the morning 1 heard the cause of 
 it. The prisoner who was in the end cell of the 
 landing, with only the roof of one of the buildings 
 and the prison wall between him and the street, 
 the Old Bailey, had made an attempt to escape. 
 I believe he had a long sentence, fourteen or 
 twenty years. He had picked up a nail, or else 
 taken the nail out of his ' Mdle ' and straightened 
 it. With this he had laboured hard and picked 
 out a brick from the roof of his cell. The labour 
 of getting out that first brick with such an 
 instrument must have been very great. One 
 brick removed, the getting others out was com- 
 paratively easy work. He succeeded in removing 
 
Newgate. 5 1 
 
 sufficient to get his body through, and the slate 
 roof was close above him, and had he been a 
 determined man, liberty was before him — at least 
 liberty to get into the street, where his chance of 
 escape rested entirely on the vigilance of the 
 policemen in the neighbourhood. He intended 
 to have made a rope of his blankets and rug, but 
 by the time he had done so much it was getting 
 daylight. Whether it was that he saw it had taken 
 him so long to efifect what he had done, and that 
 it was getting daylight and too many people would 
 be about in the streets to give him anything like 
 a fair prospect of success, or whether his heart 
 suddenly failed him or not I cannot teU, but he 
 desisted from all further attempts, sounded his 
 signal spring gon^, and on the warder coming 
 to see what was wanted, quietly showed him his 
 night's work. The officer instantly gave the 
 alarm, and brought all who were on night duty to 
 the scene, and their scuffling noise it was thd,t 
 woke me up. Till the man himself sounded his 
 signal that called the warder, no suspicion was 
 aroused, and had he continued his work I really 
 think he would have succeeded in reaching the 
 street. How it was the warder never heard him 
 B 2 
 
5 2 Fi6e Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 at work, or tlie sound of the bricks falling, I 
 cannot tell, unless lie was himself asleep. Of 
 course, when all need of vigilance was at an end, 
 the warders were all as active and as fussy as so 
 many bluebottles ; and I should not be at aU sur- 
 ■ prised if, in reporting it to the aldermen and chief 
 authorities, they took great praise to themselves 
 for the activity they had displayed ; and. have no 
 doubt but that some paragraph appeared with a 
 panegyric on the wonderfully astute Governor of 
 Newgate, whose extreme sagacity had prevented 
 the escape of a convict. I know not myself who 
 to blame most, the man for suddenly desisting 
 from his attempt after having got over the most 
 difficult part of it, or the remissness o;f the prison 
 authorities in permitting the possibility of such a 
 thing, with all the appliances of ' inspection holes' 
 and other artful contrivances to see and know 
 everything a prisoner does. Had the warder gone 
 his rounds properly and peeped into every cell, he 
 must have discovered what the man was doing 
 long before he got out the first brick. By this 
 attempt at escape the stupid fellow would lose 
 all, or at any rate the greater part, of his remission, 
 and would be a marked man during the whole of 
 
Newgate. ' 5 3 
 
 tis time. He had been more than once convicted 
 before, and had been a receiver of stolen goods. 
 In this case he had instigated young shopmen 
 in some ready-made tailor's or outfitter's shop to 
 rob the stock, and he had received and disposed 
 of the plunder. Those are the men to catch, 
 and who richly deserve the punishment they get. 
 Before bidding farewell to Newgate let me say 
 that I considered at the time there were many 
 matters could be greatly improved. I see there is 
 a different Governor there now. He who was 
 Governor when I was there does not now rule there, 
 and possibly many changes may have taken place. 
 The whole system appeared to me, and more par- 
 ticularly after I had experienced how the Govern- 
 ment convict establishments are managed, to be 
 a bad copy of some other place. I was quite sur- 
 prised to find that everyone, warders and officials, 
 were perfectly ignorant of the system and discipline 
 pursued at the convict establishments. Not one 
 knew anything of convict life. The discipline was 
 strict in some things a'nd lax in others. There 
 was a great deal of show and fussiness — very many 
 irritating regulations that had no earthly use. 
 The place is made too much of a City show of, 
 
54 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 where aldermen and other civic authorities are 
 fond of bringing their friends to see how cleTerly 
 the great City manages everything '■ — prisons 
 among others. It always struck me that the 
 whole management was a burlesque copy of a 
 great original with which the copyist was only 
 imperfectly acquainted. It was Solouque's imi- 
 tation of Napoleon over again, Solouque in this 
 case having very white teeth and hair, and being 
 given to the wearing of spotless shirt fronts. 
 
 A great many more people are committed by 
 magistrates for trial than are ever found guilty. 
 There are many cases where a magistrate will 
 not take upon himself the responsibility of either 
 discharging or condemning an accused person, and 
 therefore sends the case to be tried before a jury. 
 In many cases bail can be and is given, and the 
 accused person is at liberty till the day appointed 
 for his trial. But it is not everyone who can get 
 baU. Wh.en a man is accused of any offence 
 against the law it is only his true friends who are 
 likely to stand by him, and though they may be 
 very respectable, yet their bail may not Ije. 
 accepted. 
 
 Again, a man may have every disposition to 
 
Newgate. 55 
 
 aid Ms friend or relative in trouble, but he lias a 
 wife and family, and must look to them, and 
 hesitates before rendering himself liable as bail. 
 Therefore, the fact of a man not obtaining bail is 
 no proof of his non-respectability. Till a man 
 is found guilty, the theory is that he is presumed 
 to be innocent. Very many men are acquitted, 
 and after leaving Newgate, return to their friends, 
 and their customary avocations. These men — men 
 untried — should be treated very differently from 
 the way they are ; so long as they are kept secure 
 from escape, the main object of their detention is 
 effected. There is no necessity for their being 
 mixed up, and brought in contact with men who 
 are .convicted. The system of friends' visitation 
 is essentially bad, and I believe many a man who 
 on trial is acquitted, and is supposed to ' leave the 
 court without a stain upon his character,' has 
 suffered great injury by being seen on the wrong 
 side of the bars of the double grating on visiting 
 days. I do not mean being seen by his own 
 friends, but by the friends of others. The reader, 
 or anyone, goes to visit a Mend in trouble; he 
 is shown to the grating, and some time elapses 
 before the person he wants is sent for, and comes 
 
56 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 down from his cell. While waiting he naturally 
 loots about and sees a number of persons on the 
 bad side of the double bars. Some, more or less, 
 of those faces he may remember ; one or two may 
 make an impression on his memory. These very 
 men possibly, nay probably, are acquitted, and 
 elsewhere their faces are seen and recognised. 
 'Where can I have met that man before?' In 
 Newgate ! A prejudice is at once conceived; pos- 
 sibly the spotless man may be of a pharisaical turn, 
 and, thanking God he is not as that other man, 
 has never been in prison, except to see his unfor- 
 tunate friend or relative, he may turn to whatever 
 companion he may be with and say, ' Do you see 
 that man ? I saw him in Newgate when I went 
 to see so and so.' Like thistle-down blown into a 
 neighbour's field, the injury is spread, and no one 
 knows what the injury may be, or where it may 
 end. Oh, but, I think I hear the righteous reader 
 explain, people should not get into prison, and if 
 they do things that render them liable to be put 
 there, they must put up with the consequences. 
 But very innocent people are accused sometimes, 
 and oftentimes ; and if it is possible to prevent 
 such an injury as I have endeavoured to point 
 
Newgate. 57 
 
 out, it should be done, and it can be done. Per- 
 sons awaiting trial slioiild not be sent to the same 
 prison witb others who are convicted, and they 
 should be permitted to see their friends more pri- 
 vately than they are. There is no reason why, on 
 certain fixed days, friends should not haye access, 
 under proper regulations, to remanded prisoners in 
 their respective cells. 
 
 Newgate is no longer adapted for its require- 
 ments, and the sooner the City magnates make a 
 change the better. At certain times, just before 
 the "sessions at the Central Criminal Court, New- 
 gate is frequently crowded. All prisoners from 
 Horsemonger Lane Gaol and other prisons who 
 are committed to take their trial at the Old Bailey 
 Sessions are sent to Newgate for the convenience 
 of being close at hand to the courts, and can be 
 readily brought from their cells into the dock as 
 their cases are called on. 
 
 Many of the minutiae of Newgate discipline 
 and management are frivolous and absurd in the 
 extreme. Why should untried, unconvicted men, 
 many of whom have been in far superior positions 
 to the Governor of Newgate, be ordered to march 
 to chapel with their hands behind them like 
 
58 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 schoolboys? There are no such petty and irri- 
 tating annoyances as this even in a convict estab- 
 . lishment, where everything is as strict as it can 
 be made. Little things like these very greatly add 
 to the discomfort of men who are already suffi- 
 ciently harassed by the position they are placed in. 
 If they are afterwards proved guilty, goodness 
 knows they will have punishment enough and 
 irritating annoyances sufficient. If they are 
 acquitted, why should they be punished to please 
 the whim of a would-be martinet, or some alder- 
 manic Solon, whose right position would be Prime 
 Minister of Laputa ? It is quite time to commence 
 punishment and strict discipline when a man is 
 found guilty. 
 
 The food and its so-called cooking I ha've 
 abeady mentioned. The warders were not a bad 
 set at all, but there seemed far too few of them to 
 do the duty. This, no doubt, is on account of the 
 very fluctuating population of this City prison. 
 At times during my stay there were not a dozen 
 prisoners in chapel — at others it was crowded. 
 When the place is full, and especially on visiting 
 days, the duty is very heavy, and the hours are far 
 too long. No wonder a night warder falls asleep 
 occasionally. 
 
Newgate. 59 
 
 About three weeks after my conviction, one 
 morning, greatly to my surprise, no oakum was 
 served out. On my asking the warder for my 
 ta^k, he said, ' Oh, you will have a holiday to- 
 day.' 
 
 The prisoner who had acted as barber, and was 
 an ' old Lag,' passing the door, told me, ' Never 
 mind cleaning yoiu; cell, we are all off to-day.' 
 
 ' Off ! Where to ? ' Now the real servitude was 
 to commence. Where was I to go to — what labour 
 should I be set to — were questions that flashed 
 across my brain. I knew that I should never 
 be put to hard manual labour, as I had a certain 
 bodily infirmity that would preclude my digging, 
 wheeling barrows, or doing any of the hard work 
 I had heard convicts- are set to. Both the Chap- 
 lain and the Doctor had told me that. 
 
 After breakfast I was summoned to go down 
 into the hall below, and was told to bring all my 
 letters, if I wished to keep them, and my comb 
 and brushes. My letters I destroyed, instead of 
 bringing them, as I knew not whose hands they 
 might pass through. 
 
 On reaching the hall below we were all mustered 
 in two rows, and after answering to our names, and 
 
6o Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 having oui' respective crimes and sentences read 
 over to us, to vrhicli we had to assent, each man 
 was handcuffed. This was my first acquaintance 
 with the ' Darbies,' the first time I had evei- been 
 deprived of -the free use of my hands, and it was 
 with some difficulty I kept down the swelling lump 
 in my throat. A mingled feeling of shame, rage, 
 and indignation came over me. Then a better 
 thought succeeded, and with a silent prayer for 
 strength and grace, I tried to make up my mind 
 to submit to my fate as resignedly as possible. 
 
 We were then all marched down the gloomy 
 stone passages to the yard, where our carriages 
 awaited us. ' These were the usual black Marias, 
 some four or five of which were drawn up in the 
 prison yard. The one I was in was different from any 
 other I had travelled in before. By standing up I 
 could, through the top ventilating grating, just 
 catch a glimpse of the streets we passed through 
 — over Blackfriars Bridge, along Stamford Street, 
 York Eoad, over Westminster Bridge, past the 
 Abbey and Parliament Houses, down ' the Horse- 
 ferry Eoad, and in due time we drove within the 
 portals of the Millbank Penitentiary. 
 
Millbank. 6 1 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 
 MILLBANK. 
 
 The whole length of our journey from Newgate 
 to Millbank some of the prisoners kept up the 
 most discordant noises, shouting and singing — 
 ■whether for joy or not I cannot say. 
 
 On alighting from the ' sable Maria ' we were 
 ushered through a door into a long white- washed 
 passage, with cells on one side and windows on 
 the other. The vrindows looked into the roadway 
 inside the gates, where the carriages had driven 
 in. The cells looked into a large open space, 
 divided by railings. The space is surrounded by 
 the different wards of the pentagon. Millbank 
 consists of six pentagons, or what an Irishman 
 would call squares, with five sides to them. These 
 pentagons are numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, and 6, and 
 in the centre is a large octagon chapel, not very 
 
62 Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 unlike Eowland Hill's Chapel, in the Blackfriars 
 Eoad, only that is, I believe, round. On fpur 
 sides of each pentagon are prison wards, -witji the 
 cell windows looking into the yards. The fifth 
 side, the centre one adjoining the chapel, is for 
 officers' quarters, governor's house, &c. The 
 large centre chapel is for Protestants, and in No. 2 
 pentagon, when I was there, there was a tempo- 
 rary building, fitted as a Roman Catholic chapel. 
 Since my stay there the place has been altered to 
 some extent in the internal arrangements. I 
 believe aU the women are rbmoyed elsewhere, and 
 several of the pentagons have been fitted entirely 
 for military prisoners. I can only describe what 
 it was in my time, which was before Brixton 
 Prison was made a convict establishment for 
 separates and Wandsworth for women. 
 
 The first thing on entering each man was re- 
 leased from his handcuffs, and told to seat himself 
 on a long bench in the passage. Presently two 
 * chief warders, one a fine, military-looking man, 
 and the other a little man, arrived, accompanied 
 by a medical officer and a clerk. On their appear- 
 ance we were told to rise and stand to ' attention,' 
 and the warders saluted their superiors in ortho- 
 
Millbank. 63 
 
 dox military style. Tlie official party went into a 
 cell, fitted up as an office, and the examination 
 and classification of tlie prisoners began. 
 
 One of the chief warders walked along one 
 line and. good-himiouredly at once claimed more 
 than one of our party as old acquaintances. 
 Asked their names, 'What name were you in 
 last time ? ' was a question that called forth a laugh 
 all round. 
 
 By the time that certain prelimiaaiy prepara- 
 tions had been gone through; and all the papers 
 brought with each prisoner from Newgate, with 
 full particulars of his name, case, crime and 
 sentence, had been examined and entered into 
 a book in the office, it was 12 o'clock, and dinner 
 time. While this was proceeding inside the 
 office, the shorter of the two chief warders read 
 the rules of the establishment, and gave the men 
 a little good advice as to what they were to do. 
 The principal regulations he read were those as to 
 marks and remission of time. 
 
 Every prisoner on first entering the convict 
 service has to undergo nine months of separate 
 confinement in a cell by himself, working in 
 that cell, and never leaving it except for exercise 
 
64 Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 or to go to ctapel. During that nine months no 
 remission is given ; but for the remainder of his 
 time, if he obtains the full quantum of eight 
 marks a day, which can only be earned by good 
 conduct and the completion of his day's work^ 
 whatever that may be, he is allowed a remission 
 of equal to three months in each year, or one- 
 fourth of his sentence, except the nine months. 
 The full amount of marks for a man to earn in a 
 year is 2,920. If less than this number are 
 earned then so much remission is lost. It is very 
 seldom a man goes through a whole term of ser- 
 vice without losing some marks. I reckoned very 
 quickly that it was just possible I could get twelve 
 months and three weeks remission off my five 
 j-ears. I actually got off twelve months and ten 
 days. On this mark system I shall have a good 
 deal to say further on. Like aU other human 
 systems it is not perfection, though good in 
 theory. 
 
 We were informed that presently we should 
 be asked what religion we were. Each man 
 might please himself what he chose to be, but 
 what he now elected he must stick to. Prosely- 
 tism is not countenanced in Her Majesty's convict 
 
Millbank. 65 
 
 service. The bill of fare for each day in the week 
 was read out to us. 
 
 Three days a week three ounces of beef or 
 mutton, with potatoes or other vegetables. Two 
 days one pint of soup, and one day, on Thursdays, 
 neither meat nor soup, but one solid pound of suet- 
 pudding, containing at least two and a half ounces 
 of suet, and on Sundays nothing but bread and 
 cheese. ,0f the quaJity of these articles I will 
 descant as we come to them. Sometimes, instead 
 of either beef or mutton, salt pork was given. 
 For breakfast three-quarters of a pint of cocoa, 
 and for supper one pint of porridge or gruel. 
 Every morning at breakfast-time each man was 
 served with a good-sized loaf of bread. How 
 many ounces it was I don't remember, but it was 
 always more than I could manage to eat. If a 
 man chose to eat it all at one meal he got no 
 more till next day. 
 
 After the rules had been read it was 12 o'clock, 
 and we were ordered in batches of four or five, into 
 some of the cells, each man having given to him 
 previously a loaf of bread and a piece of very good 
 cheese. Here I was kept for a long time,' but I 
 could hear that the officials had returned, and 
 F 
 
66 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 were at work with the other fresh arrivals. With 
 me, in the same cell, was the elder of the two 
 boys whom I mentioned before as having half 
 murdered the old house-keeper. He was sen- 
 tenced- to seven years and his brother to two 
 years. I believe he was sent away from Millbank 
 to a Reformatory to do his term. I was very 
 much shocked and disgusted at this youngster. 
 I am not over-squeamish, but to see a boy of 
 thirteen years, not only callous as he was, but 
 boastful of his clrime, was dreadful. He gave a 
 full account of his whole proceeding, and told us 
 how he battered the old woman's head with a 
 hammer, while his brother did his best to hold 
 her down; £70, 1 think he said, they got out of a 
 cash-box they took from the of5ce, and of this 
 they squandered about half in a few days. Not 
 contented with having one revolver each, he told 
 us they had bought two each. What ought the 
 men who sold such things to these children have 
 received ? Six months at the very least. I have 
 heard from prisoners many tales of their villanies, 
 but not from anyone did I ever hear so cool and 
 bare-faced a narrative as from this youngster. 
 Unless he very much mends his ways I fear he will 
 
Millbank. '67 
 
 be teard of again. He confessed lie not only urged 
 his brother into it, but compelled Mm to be as 
 bad as himself, and had thrashed him many times 
 for 'turning cocktail.' I found from a few 
 questions I asked that his head had been stuffed 
 with the rubbish he had read of gentlemen 
 pirates, highwaymen, and bandit captains. 
 
 The reader will ask why did I countenance the 
 youngster to tell his boasting tale, and did I not 
 reprove him ? I was but one among many there , 
 present, one or two of whom were unmitigated 
 scoundrels and encouraged the boy. When I did 
 say a word to check or reprove him, he only 
 laughed, and the others cried me down. At last,, 
 thoroughly disgusted with him, and feeling com- 
 pletely cast down to think I was to be the com- 
 panion of such wretches as some of these men were, 
 I got up on to a table under the window and looked 
 out on to the Pentagon yard, where a sight met my 
 eyes that soon attracted all my thoughts and 
 attention away from the boy and his admirers. 
 
 Walking round the yard, or rather the divi- 
 sion nearest, to our cell window, were about five 
 and twenty prisoners in Indian file, as at New- 
 gate, and about five or six yards apart. In the 
 
 E 2 
 
68 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 centre stood a warder in uniform, with a staff 
 like a, policeman's in his hand. The men were 
 dressed very differently from us Newgate men, and 
 struck me at first as being somewhat fantastically 
 and picturesquely costumed. I could not avoid 
 recalling certain chorus singers I had seen at the 
 opera. Each man was dressed in a short loose 
 jacket and vest, and baggy knickerbockers of drab 
 tweed with black stripes, one and a half inches 
 broad. The lower part of their legs were encased 
 in blue worsted dockings with bright red rings 
 round them ; low shoes and a bright grey and red 
 worsted cap, which each man wore in accordance 
 to his own taste, completed the costume. One 
 thing spoiled it. All over the whole clothing 
 were hideous black impressions of the Broad 
 Arrow f , the ' crow's foot,' denoting the articles 
 belonged to Her Majesty. 
 
 The way each man wore his cap was not at all 
 a bad index to' the man himself. Some were 
 adjusted very neatly so as to form a good 
 imitation of a cavalry forage cap, and when 
 jauntily set on one side of the head, proclaimed 
 its poor wearer had been a smart, decent fellow 
 in the ' outer world,' and had not yet had all self- 
 
Millbank. 69 
 
 respect and ideas of personal appearance entirely 
 crushed out of him. Another would wear his 
 hanging down like a bag, as Neapolitan fishermen 
 and crews of swell yachts wear theirs; others 
 again made bad attempts to imitate these two, 
 while some seemed as if their object was to make 
 themselves look as hideous as possible, and wore 
 them sticking up stiff and straight, as high as 
 they would, as if their model was a Pierot or The 
 Perfect Cure. Each man carried a towel with 
 him, and I noticed that every now and then one 
 or two would leave the rank and go into a little 
 building in one corner of the yard, while others 
 would emerge from the same and take their 
 places in the ' walking round.' The men coming 
 out I noticed had aU wet towels, which told me 
 it was bathing-day with them, and the little 
 building in the corner was a bath-house. I found 
 before a week was over my conjectures were 
 correct. 
 
 Two other prisoners I noticed were pulling 
 about a large roller, and keeping the gravelled 
 yard in good order, and this rolling seemed to be 
 considered a sort of privilege, as I could see 
 several of the prisoners address the warder as 
 
70 Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 they passed him, and every now and then he would 
 call to those rolling to desist, and others who had 
 spoken to the warder took their places. 
 
 Presently the door of our cell was opened, and 
 we were ordered out. I found all my other 
 fellow-travellers from Newgate had disappeared; 
 I was ordered to go to the end of the passage, 
 where the principal of the receiving ward was 
 standing. I did not like his looks, but became 
 better acquainted with him afterwards, and liked 
 him very well. He ordered me to strip and go 
 into a bath down some steps. I obeyed of course ; 
 in a very few minutes he called to me and thrieW' 
 me a towel, telling me to dry myself and come 
 out. This, too, I did ; and on reaching the top 
 of the steps, leading from the bath, found my 
 clothes had disappeared. There stood the prin- 
 cipal however, who whisked the towel out of my 
 hand and threw it away, and told me to stand up, 
 naked as I was. ' Turn round.' ' Lift both arms.' 
 ' Lift the right leg.' Now, the left.' ' Hold up 
 the sole of the foot.' ' Now, the other.' ' Now, 
 stoop.' ' Stand up.' ' Open your mouth.' ' Here, 
 take this bundle of clothes, and put them on, 
 
Millbank. ' 7 1 
 
 but don't finish dressing till the doctor has seen 
 you.' 
 
 The object of all this examination is that no 
 prisoner should have a chance of concealing any- 
 thing about his person, and bringing into the 
 prison anything likely to aid him in escape. The 
 bundle he handed me contained a. complete suit 
 of clothes of the same picturesque pattern as those 
 worn by the men I had seen exercising. Every 
 article was quite new, and had never been worn; 
 consequently their stiffness was not at all con- 
 ducive to their comfort. Among them were a 
 new flannel, under-waistcoat, and pair of drawers. 
 It was August. If there is one thing I abominate 
 more than another it is new flannel, and you may 
 depend upon it that the Government does not 
 supply convicts with ' superfine Welsh.' I tried 
 to shirk them, but the principal, seeing what I 
 was at, stopped me saying, 'Put them on now; 
 when you get to your cell you can wear them or 
 not as you like, but if you don't' take them now 
 you will have none all the winter.' His hint was 
 Mud, and I acted upon it, thanking him for giving 
 it to me. 
 
72 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Till I undressed to go to bed that niglit I had 
 a most lively idea of what penitents of the Eomish 
 Church experience when wiping out their pecca- 
 dilloes by wearing hair shirts. I must during 
 those hours have cleared off a long score of mine. 
 
 I was then called into the room where the 
 doctor was, and here I saw another chief warder — 
 an enormous man with an enormous voice, who 
 looked very fierce, but through whose fierceness I 
 fancied I saw a twinkle of good nature, and I saw 
 correctly. Here, to my surprise, was handed to 
 me a bundle which I at once recognised as the 
 clothes, even to the hat and boots, I had worn 
 before my conviction — my last habiliments of 
 freedom. 
 
 'Do you identify those as your clothes?' 
 'Yes, I did.' They were ruthlessly cast aside 
 into a corner where plenty of other bundles were 
 lying. My comb and brushes and toothbrush 
 were set on one side, and a ticket with my name 
 and a number placed with them. ' I should have 
 no use for such things there.' I begged for the 
 toothbrush. 'If ypu are particular about your 
 teeth, my man,' said the big chief warder, ' use a 
 corner of your towel.' I was asked several ques- 
 
Millbank. >]■■ 
 
 tions as to my age, business cr trade, and was this 
 my first conviction of any sort. 
 
 The doctor told me to strip off my shirt, and 
 he made a medical examination of me, sounding 
 my lungs with the stethescope, and going through 
 the usual formula on such occasions. I was mea- 
 sured in height, in girth of chest, and was weighed. 
 The doctor toot note of my physical infirmity, 
 and said I must go into a light labour class. 
 
 A conversation took place between the doctor 
 and the gigantic official, the purport of which I 
 hardly understood at the time, but when I came 
 to read the rules over I very soon did. He sug- 
 gested, first, that I seemed a respectable man. I 
 bowed to him at that. Secondly, that I was 
 likely to make all my marks, but if in light labour 
 could not get more than seven marks a day. This 
 I found would have lost me one-half my remission. 
 The doctor said he would make a note and see to 
 that and what I could do. I was then asked what 
 religion I was — Catholic or Protestant. 
 
 A card was then given to me with a number 
 on it, which I was told was my number, and to 
 which I was always to answer, as prisoners left 
 their names behind them, and were never addressed 
 
74 Five Years Penal Servitude. "^ 
 
 bj them while in Millbank. I then went into the 
 cell where I had been locked up with the other men, 
 where I found a lot of clothes — prison clothes of all 
 sorts and sizes, and was told to fit myself as speedily 
 as possible, for the suit first of all given me was 
 a great deal too large, and might have been made 
 for Daniel Lambert or the big chief warder. 
 
 When fully equipped, and feeling very uncom- 
 fortable, I was marched off down a passage and 
 through a door at the foot of a winding spiral 
 stone staircase into the Pentagon yard — across 
 this and through a gate or two in the dividing 
 railings and into a similar door — up a spiral stone 
 staircase like the first one I had passed — one 
 flight — two flights — three flights — to the very top, 
 where T was transferred by the warder who had 
 conducted me so far to the care of another warder, 
 and he at once pointed out the way along the 
 passage to a cell, the door of which he opened and 
 introduced me to my first lodging under Her 
 Majesty's roof. The little ticket with my number 
 on he took from me, placed it in a rack over the 
 doorway, and shut me in. 
 
 If the reader has ready access to an ordinary 
 map of London, he will see on the northern bank 
 
Millbank. 75 
 
 of the Eiver Thames, and near to Vanxhall 
 Bridge, a thing that looks at first glance like a 
 star-fish. That is Millbank Penitentiary. If iilie 
 map is a large one it -will give him a very fair 
 idea of the ground plan of the place. If the 
 reader is a resident in London and passes by either 
 on the river or the road, he may readily form a 
 fair idea of the internal construction of the build- 
 . ing so as to follow my descriptions. 
 
 The numberless windows seen on the outside 
 are not, as many erroneously suppose, the windows 
 of prisoners' cells. These windows serve to light 
 the passages running between them and the cell 
 gates and doors. Every cell has a strong iron gate 
 opening outwards into the wide stone corridor or 
 passage, and a wooden door opening inwards to 
 the cell. Opposite the door is a large window 
 about three feet square, looking into the inner 
 yard or Pentagon. There are four storeys of these 
 cells, all of which are alike and are of good size, 
 being about ten feet square, or perhaps they may 
 be 12 X 10. The round towers at the corner of each 
 angle of every block of buildings, surmounted 
 with pointed roofs, contain the spiral stone 
 staircases leading from the ground floor to the 
 
76 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 top landing. On each floor are sinks with water 
 supply, and other conveniences for the wards of that 
 corridor. Every Pentagon is numbered, and each 
 block of buildings is denoted by a letter, A, B, C, 
 &c. Each floor or landing contains four passages 
 and rows of cells branching off at an angle at the 
 staircases in the towers. Every floor contains two 
 wards, each ward consisting of two of these land- 
 ings or passages and the cells appertaining to 
 them, and every ward is divided from the other 
 by a door. The doorway is placed in the corridor 
 at the centre tower of each block, every Pentagon 
 having three towers. The other two towers form , 
 the respective centres of their wards, and the 
 ofiScer or warder standing at this point can, by 
 looking to the right and left, command a full view 
 of the length of each of the two passages of his 
 ward, thus having control over his charge with 
 very little trouble. 
 
 The ground enclosed within the wall surround- 
 ing the whole building is used for garden purposes, 
 for cultivation of vegetables for the use of the 
 prison carried on by the prisoners' labour. Not one 
 cell in the whole building looks outwards upon the 
 world. All are turned inwards. When the win- 
 
Millbank. 77 
 
 dows are being cleaned in the corridors or pas- 
 sages is tlie only time a prisoner has a chance of 
 seeing anything of the world he is shut in from. 
 I need hardly say the window cleaning in the two 
 upper corridors, particularly of those wards that 
 command a view of the river,. is regarded as some- 
 what of a holiday treat, and not a little sought 
 after, for though it is but a glimpse of the world 
 one has left, it stiU helps to bring to the memory 
 visions of home. 
 
 Each convict establishment has a governor 
 and deputy-governor, one or more chief warders 
 (MiUbank had no less than three), who have under 
 them three grades of officials : principals, warders, 
 and assistant warders. The slang name for all 
 the officials is ' screws.' All are armed in some 
 way. Chiefs and principals, when m, grande tevme, 
 wear swords. Warders and assistant warders, when 
 within the prison, are armed with truncheons, 
 which are carried in cases at the side. When 
 with a gang of men at out-door work, these 
 truncheons are replaced by a short rifle and 
 bayonet. In addition, there is at Dartmoor and 
 other prisons away from London, the civil guard, 
 armed with rifles and bayonets, who do military 
 
78 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 duty in guarding the place. Of the duties of the 
 civil guard I shall speak when I get to Dartmoor, 
 Millhant being so near to the barracks at West- 
 minster, there is little need to have a special 
 guard of its own. 
 
 Every block of buildings and every ward in 
 Millbank Prison is in communication with each 
 other, and all radiate from the centre of the whole 
 establishment, where the chapel is. Though to an 
 outside observer it looks like a number of detached 
 buildings, it is possible to visit every ceU and 
 every ward without once goiag into the open air. 
 
 On being locked into my cell, the first thing 
 I did was to examine it well and its contents. 
 Opposite to the door, and on the floor,, was a 
 raised wooden platform, extending right across 
 the cell. It was about 6 inches from the floor of 
 stfine flags. At one end of this platform was a 
 step, about 4 inches higher and 12 inches deep. 
 This platform I afterwards found was my b6d- 
 place, on which the straw mattrass, now neatly 
 rolled up, was laid, and the step acted as bolster, 
 on which I made a pillow of my clothes, no pillow 
 being provided. • On the top of the bed were very 
 neatly rolled up, in a perfectly different way to the 
 
Millbank. 79 
 
 bedding at Newgate, three blankets, a rug, and 
 two coarse linen sbeets. A wooden platter and 
 spoon, a wooden salt-box, two tin pint-mugs, a 
 brigbt pewter cbamber utensil, an ordinary school 
 slate, a large wooden bucket or pail, with wooden 
 flat hoops, and fitted with a close-fitting lid, a 
 short-handled hair-broom or brush, a stiff mill- 
 board, with a copy of the prison rules and regula- 
 tions, and a small gas-jet, without tap, protruding 
 from the wall about 4 feet from the ground, com- 
 pleted the inventory. No; I had forgot one thing 
 I afterwards found the use of, which, till it was 
 explained to me by the warder, I was at a loss to 
 discover. It was a thin lath of wood, 3 feet long, 
 2^ inches vride, and \ inch thick. One-half painted 
 on both sides black, and the other bright red. 
 
 There were no spy or inspection-holes in the 
 door, but through the wall, alongside the door, 
 was a loop-hole, similar to those usually seen in 
 old castles for arrow-slits, and in fortifi^ed outworks 
 for musketry firing. This slit was about 2 feet 
 6 inches long, and at the passage side 3 inches 
 wide, extending through the thick brick wall in a 
 radiating manner, till it formed an aperture 2 feet 
 6 inches wide. Anyone walking along the corridor 
 
8o Five Years' Penal Servitude^ 
 
 could see at once the inmate of the cell and what , 
 he was doing, and had a full view of him both 
 when at work or in bed. 
 
 Table or stool there were none. The bucket, 
 with its lid, performed several offices. It con- 
 tained the water I washed in, and which I could 
 change twice a day. It formed my seat when at 
 work, and my table when I sat on the bed-place,, 
 or platform, and had my meals. It always stood 
 near the centre of the cell floor, immediately 
 opposite the inspection aperture. By standing on 
 tip-toe, I could look out of my window and com- 
 piand a good view of the Pentagon and yards. 
 This window, which was protected by strong iron 
 bars outside, I could open and shut at pleasure, 
 one-half of it falling inwards on a hinge. 
 
 I had not been very long left to myself before 
 I heard the iron gate at my cell rattle and open, 
 and then the door. A fine, tall, soldierly-looking, 
 fair man walked in, and on first entering reminded 
 me strongly of the Duke of Cambridge. In a racy 
 Irish brogue he asked me if I was No. 20,001s 
 This was the first time I had been addressed by 
 my new numerical name, and it sounded somewhat 
 harshly to my ears. 
 
Millbank 8i 
 
 ' Now, me man, see you have all the kit ye are 
 intittled to,' said- he, looking round at all my 
 household goods. ' Bring that bucket and get 
 some clane water.' 
 
 I did so, taking the bucket to the sink and tap 
 at the landing, on top of the stairs in the round 
 tower. 
 
 'Now bring them dirty sheets, and ye shall 
 have clane ones.' 
 
 I followed him, with the sheets of the last 
 resident to a ceU at the centre of the ward, which 
 he had fitted up as a store-room for the necessaries 
 required by the men under his charge, and their 
 work. Here he gave me clean sheets, a clean 
 towel, with a piece of soap, a small horn-comb, 
 and a little brush, like a nail-brush, which he said 
 was for my hair. The soap, he told me, was my 
 allowance for a fortnight, and that every alternate 
 Saturday I should have a similar piece. He also 
 gave me a small bag, containing some rags and 
 bath brick, with which to keep my tin and pewter 
 things bright and clean. This he told me to hang 
 behind the door. He then came to my cell and 
 showed me where everything was to be placed 
 when not in use, and how to roll up my bedding 
 
 G 
 
82 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 and fold up the blantets and sheets. He also 
 explained the use of the mysterious red and black 
 wand. When I wished to speak to a warder for 
 any purpose, I was to put out the red end from 
 the inspection aperture, to cause him to come 
 to me. If a man wishes to see the governor, 
 the doctor, or the chaplain, he is to ' sport his 
 broom,' lay his little hair-broom on the floor 
 at the door directly the cell is opened in the 
 morning. This is a signal for the warder to 
 come to him and take down his requirements 
 on a slate on which he makes up his morning's 
 report. 
 
 As I had passed and repassed along the 
 passage, I had naturally cast a curious eye into 
 the other cells, and through the inspection holes 
 I had seen that all were working at tailoring, so I 
 concluded, and rightly, that I was to be a tailor. 
 This rather encouraged me, as it was clean and 
 not the hard, laborious work, which I had dreaded 
 might be my lot. 
 
 At six o'clock supper was served. I presented 
 my pint pot at the gate of my cell, and it was 
 filled by an assistant warder from a large can, 
 carried by one of the prisoners, of very good thick 
 
Millbank. 83 
 
 gruel, sweetened -witli treacle. My other pint pot 
 I had full of water. Water was served out several 
 times during the day. 
 
 Soon after supper I heard the work being col- 
 lected from the different cells, and at 9 o'clock a 
 bell rang, which, I was told by the warder then 
 on duty, was the signal that I might take down 
 my bed, but need not go to it till a quarter to ten, 
 when I should hear another bell, and all lights 
 would be put out. 
 
 As soon as it was dusk a small lamp had been 
 handed in to me with which to light my gas. My 
 first evening was very lonely; I had no books of any 
 sort, but I did the best I could to while away the 
 time, standing on my bucket and looking through 
 the open window in the cool evening air, gazing at 
 the flitting clouds and listening to the quarter 
 chimes of Big Ben on the Tower of the Westmin- 
 ster Palace. All ihe cells being lighted, the rows 
 of windows, in four tiers, round the Pentagon 
 yards looked pretty. I tried to forget it was a 
 prison, but to think it was a barrack, to which it 
 is not unlike. 
 
 I made a good study of the rules, and was glad 
 to find that I should have the privilege of writing 
 
 Q 2 
 
84 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 home within fourteen days from my arrival. This 
 I knew would he great comfort to those at home. 
 I could tell them I was well, and also inform them 
 where I was, for of course no intimation is other- 
 wise given to the friends of prisoners as to where 
 they may be sent to ; I also saw that I should be 
 entitled to receive a reply letter any time within 
 one month. After that, all communication would 
 cease for six months. During the first two years 
 letters are allowed to pass between prisoners and 
 their families, and also visits to take place every 
 six months, the second year every four months, 
 and after that every three months, provided 
 always that a prisoner did not forfeit his privi- 
 lege by misconduct, and that he earned his proper 
 quota of marks. 
 
 The prisoners are divided into classes as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 For the first year they are in the probation 
 class, and wear their registered number printed 
 on a drab badge on the left arm, and no facings 
 on the jacket ; for the second year in the third 
 class, when the badge and facings are black, with 
 the number of the man printed in red on the badge. 
 These two classes carry no privileges with them. 
 
Millbank. 85 
 
 At the expiration of two years, if the prisoner 
 has earned his full complement of marts, or so 
 soon as he has done so, he is promoted to the 
 second class, the badge and facings for which are 
 yellow, the printing of the number being in black. 
 Members of this and of the first class are ' tea 
 men ;' they have the privilege — and a great one 
 it is — of having one pint of tea every evening 
 instead of gruel. 
 
 After three years' servitude, and earning the 
 requisite marks, the man is promoted into the 
 highest, or first class, the badge and :^eings of 
 ■which are blue, with the numbers printed in 
 black. 
 
 Whenever a man is reported for any infringe- 
 ment of rules or misconduct and punished, he is 
 frequently deprived of his class and its privi- 
 leges for such time as the governor or deputy 
 may determine, besides losing marks or having 
 bread and water for so many days. Some unruly 
 characters pass their whole time in the proba- 
 tionary class. Others again never once lose their 
 class. I never did, though I was reported three 
 times for trivial matters, and lost marks, which I 
 afterwards had restored to me. 
 
86 Five Years Penal Servihidc. 
 
 When a man loses his class from the first or 
 second, he goes into the third for the time being, 
 and for that period he loses his privilege of 
 having tea, and returns to gruel. This, among 
 prisoners, is termed ' smashing the teapot,' and 
 vrhen a man is restored to his class, and has his 
 tea, it is said he has ' had his teapot mended ' or 
 'got it down the spout.' 
 
 By the colour of a man's badge and facings it 
 is seen at once at a distance to what class he 
 belongs. At MUlbank, of ' course all the men are 
 ih probationary class, unless, as in my case, they 
 stay over twelve months, but I did not mount a 
 black badge till I got to Dartmoor. At Dartmoor 
 and the other prisons the prisoners are all warded 
 according to their classes, and also according to 
 their religions, Protestant or Catholic. This 
 latter distinction of warding off the prisoners is 
 followed at MUlbank ; of blue dress men and red 
 coUarmen I will spea,k when we meet with 
 them at Dartmoor, also of the black particoloured 
 and yellow and black dressed men. 
 
 At sis o'clock the next morning the loud bell 
 of the prison awoke everyone and all the sur- 
 rounding neighbourhood of Westminster and 
 
Millbank. 87 
 
 Pimlico too, I should thiuk. Out of bed, and liave 
 a good wasli all over if you like — ^I did — and by the 
 time it was done the warders arrived and thi-ew 
 open the cell doors. Scrubbing brushes and cloths 
 were served out to each cell, and with the water 
 he has washed in, the prisoner cleans the floor of 
 his apartment. Then each in turn, as he is 
 called by the warder, every man brings out his 
 bucket and pewter to the sink to empty and 
 replenish with clean water. Beds must be rolled 
 up and stowed, everything in its place, and the 
 man dressed by seven o'clock, when the bell goes 
 for chapel. 
 
 Each ward is marched off to chapel in its turn, 
 and on receiving a signal that the way is clear of 
 other prisoners, along the corridors we marched 
 in silence. Such is the rule, though there were 
 many whisperings together among some of the 
 men, which was always checked by the warders. 
 There was, however, no such nonsense as holding 
 the hands behind the back, as at Newgate. 
 
 On arriving at the chapel a principal warder 
 indicated the seats to be fiUed up. When seated 
 I had time to look around. It was a large octa- 
 gonal building with a gallery running all round. 
 
88 Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 and capable of holding the many hundred men, or 
 at any rate the Protestant portion of them, that 
 the prison contained. My ward was in the centre 
 of the ground floor, and I had a good view all 
 round, though several admonitions to 'Look to 
 your front ' warned me not to be too curious on 
 my first visit. There was a neat communion table 
 and railing, with the Tables of the Law customary 
 in churches before the new ritualistic fashions 
 discarded these time-honoured emblems of our 
 Protestant faith to make room for reredos, pic- 
 tures, crosses, candlesticks, and flowers. Over 
 the communion table in the gallery was the organ, 
 which was very well played by the head school- 
 master of the prison. In front of the table were 
 the reading-desk and pulpit. To the left of the 
 organ, in the front of the gallery, were the go- 
 vernor's and deputy-governor's pews. The chief 
 warders on duty and the principals had their 
 respective places, and on elevated seats all round 
 the walls, and at intervals in the body of the church, 
 were warders and assistant warders in ample 
 numbers. 
 
 I was much surprised at the good singing' of 
 the prisoners, but my surprise was lessened when. 
 
Millbank. 89 
 
 after tlie service, the chaplain and the governor 
 having retired, the organist pulled aside the curtain, 
 and turning to the men gave out a hymn and 
 ^practised them in singing it, and several of the 
 chants and other portions of the service ; instruct- 
 ing and reproving, or encouraging, and going over 
 and over again with each piece till it went to his 
 satisfaction. 
 
 By the time we were all in our cells it was 
 breakfast time. A certain number of men from 
 each ward are told off to bring up the cocoa cans 
 and the baskets of bread, and the breakfast is soon 
 served out. 
 
 Those men who have their work in their cells 
 lose no time in proceeding with it, and on the 
 return of the warders from their own breakfast, 
 the tools — scissors, sleeve-boards, irons, or ' geese,' 
 are served out, together with such supplies of 
 thread, buttons, and fresh work as the men require. 
 The clothing made at Millbank is for prisoners at 
 that and other stations, comprising the knicker- 
 bocker suits, shirts, flannels, stockings, and boots 
 and shoes. A great deal of weaving is done at 
 Millbank of coarse goods, afterwards used for prison 
 shirts, towels, pocket-handkerchiefs, &c. Mats 
 
go Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 of all sorts and sizes, and cocoa-nut coir matting 
 is. woven to a considerable extent. Mat-making 
 is the hardest work done at Millbank. There are 
 carpenters' and blacksmiths' shops, to which are 
 drafted such artisans as may be among the pri- 
 soners. All work for alterations or repairs — paint- 
 ing, whitewashing, &c., is done by the prisoners. 
 
 The washing of the prisoners' under- clothes is 
 done by the women, but not, I believe, at Millbank, 
 I understood it was all sent to Wandsworth. 
 
 The bakery and kitchens are all worked by 
 convicts under the superintendence of special 
 warders* Certain numbers of the warders and 
 assistants are 'tradesmen,' who are capable of 
 superintending and instructing those men who are 
 placed in their respective gangs or wards to learn 
 or work at a trade. 
 
 So soon as all the others in the ward were set 
 to work, the Irish warder, or ' Paddy,' as he was 
 called by his flock, came in to me, accompanied 
 by a prisoner, bringing materials to set me to 
 work. A bundle of drab coarse cloth was thrown 
 down. 
 
 ' Now you must make that jacket.' 
 
 • But, Sir, I know nothing of tailoring.' 
 
Millbank. 9 1 
 
 ' Och, we'll soon make a tailoi" of you,' said he. 
 ' Look ye here, now, undo that bundle j ' and as 
 he spoke, I obeyed, and all the various pieces, 
 ready cut out for a similar jacket in shape to the 
 one I wore, fell upon the floor. 
 
 'Now,* said Paddy, turning to his man be- 
 side him, ' give him a needle and thimble, and a 
 hanck of thread, and we'll see what he can do.' 
 
 I was fitted with a thimble, had thread, a 
 piece of beeswax, one needle, and a pair of scis- 
 sors supplied to me. 
 
 ' I'll be bound I'll make a tailor of ye in a 
 week. Try your hand on that. If ye do it wrong, 
 ye can just undo it and do it again. I shall give 
 an eye to ye, and see how ye get on. Maybe I'll 
 give ye a bit of a help to show ye.' 
 
 ' Thank you. Sir,' I replied. ' I am afraid I 
 shall not make much of a hand at first, but I will 
 do my best.' 
 
 ' That's it — yer best. The greatest man alive 
 can't do more than his best. Och, we'll make a 
 mighty fine tailor of ye now before ye leave us.' 
 He turned away, closing the door after him. 
 
 I saw at once that ' Paddy ' was a character, 
 and so I found him. He took great pride with 
 
92 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Ms ward and the men in it. ' His boys ' he called 
 us. He was yerj particular, and if a man did 
 not behave properly, or gave him any trouble, and 
 did not suit his views, he managed very soon to 
 get him removed to some other ward ; and I have 
 knovm him several times refuse to take a man he 
 did not like, or knew to be a troublesome charac- 
 ter, into his ward. 'Just you take that feUow 
 out of this — ^there's . no room here for him,' he 
 would say to the warder bringing up a new hand 
 he did not like the look of. 'Te'll plase to tell the 
 chief I haven't a cell that'll suit him, and will he 
 send him somewhere else.' 
 
 Paddy was a somewhat privileged warder. He 
 had been many years in the service, and had been 
 a principal ; but a little failing weakness for his 
 national spirit had caused him to be reduced. 
 When at Dartmoor, I heard from a prisoner from 
 MUlbank he had again been promoted. He un- 
 doubtedly was a good officer, and his superiors 
 were well aware of it^ and humoured his little 
 peculiarities. It was considered quite a good 
 thing to get into his ward, and when I came to 
 see a little of what other wards were, which I had 
 good opportunities of doing when Paddy was off 
 
Millbank. 93 
 
 duty or away, and we had a strange man over us, 
 I* congratulated myself on my good fortune in 
 being warded off to his care in 2, Pentagon 3. 
 The reader may have noticed my special civilities 
 in addressing him as ' Sii-,' taut that was a rule in 
 the service, that whenever a prisoner addressed an 
 official, or ' officer,' as they liked to be called, he 
 was to use the word ' Sir.' 1 
 
 After a while Paddy came and gave me a little 
 instruction, and he looked in frequently, to show 
 me how to proceed with my work. After, I forget 
 how many days, the jacket was completed, all ex- 
 cept the button-holes, which my instructor consi- 
 derately thought were as yet beyond my abilities. 
 I should be very sorry to say the jacket was turned 
 out in a workmanlike manner, but I assure you I 
 was not a little proud of my work when I held it 
 up complete. In the course of time I became a 
 very fair ' botcher,' as those who knew nothing of 
 tailoring before they came to prison were called. 
 
 About ten o'clock every morning one or other 
 of the chief warders, sometimes two together, 
 would come round. On their entering the cor- 
 ridor either the warder or his assistant would run 
 on before them and unbolt every door, flinging it 
 
94 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 wide open. Slowly Sicl tlie officials pass along, 
 carefully scrutinising every cell, and if any man's 
 bedding or other things were out of order, he 
 speedily heard of it unpleasantly. 
 
 The head chief warder was very popular among 
 the menj as he never lost an opportunity of bully- 
 ing the warders and assistant warders. He was a 
 very big man and had a most stentorian voice. 
 We could generally hear him shouting in some 
 other ward before he came to ours, so that all 
 hands were pretty well prepared to receive him. 
 He would sometimes, however, come quietly round 
 when least expected, and if he did catch any 
 unfortunate under warder away from his post or a 
 little remiss, the way he would go on was a cau- 
 tion. I did not think him wise in so doing, as 
 I did not consider it prudent to give his sub- 
 alterns their vngging in the presence or hearing 
 of the prisoners. No doubt many of the young 
 hands were conceited enough in finding them- 
 selves entrusted with so much authority over other 
 men, many of whom were much better educated 
 than themselves, and at one time had fiUed respect- 
 able positions in life. Several of these warders 
 delighted in bullying the prisoners under their 
 
Millbank. 95 
 
 charge, but I question wlietlier reproving them 
 before the men they were pilt over, was the best 
 way to correct them. I remember once he came 
 quietly into the ward into which he let himself 
 softly with his pass key, for I fancy he had a sus- 
 picion of what he would find, and just dropped 
 upon a very tyrannical young fellow, who was 
 superintending the middle day changing the water, 
 and bullying every man as he came out of his cell 
 with his bucket. No one pleased him, he had a 
 growl and a bad word for everyone. The big 
 chief came softly up the other corridor of the ward 
 to which the assistant warder was standing, and 
 consequently, though he could hear every word 
 the man uttered, and we could see him as he 
 passed our cells^ the bullying assistant had no 
 suspicion that anyone was coming. Unfortunately 
 the man was not exactly in the spot he should 
 have been, at the angle near the tower, and from 
 whence, by turning his head a little, either to the 
 right or left, he could command a full view of both 
 corridors. 
 
 ' Who is the officer in charge of the ward ? ' 
 was shouted in a voice that would have made the 
 late Mr. Cartlitch, of Astley's, quite fearful for his 
 
96 Five Years Penal Servitude: 
 
 reputation. ' Ah, it's you. Sir, is it ? And don't 
 you know your duty better titan to be wandering 
 about there ? This is your place. Sir. This ! this ! 
 where I am here. Come at once, Sir, and take 
 your proper position. If you haye not had time 
 to learn your duties, I'll put you on double hours 
 that you may have. If I cannot have warders 
 who know their duty, they are no use to me. You 
 seem to think you are hei-e for nothing else but to 
 bully the men. First do your own duty. Sir, as an 
 officer should, before you let me hear you finding 
 fault. How many cells have you open at once? 
 — Four. Tes, just three too many. If you 
 were to open them one at a time, and exercise 
 your legs, you lazy fellow, it would be better.' AU 
 this was liberally garnished with very unparlia- 
 mentary expletives. 
 
 Of course, every man in the ward heard aU he 
 said, and many of them laughed as soon as they 
 heard him go. Some would ask the poor crest- 
 fallen fellow how he liked it, and altogether the 
 discipline of the ward was not improved. 
 
 While I was deep in the mysteries of trying to 
 fit the different pieces of the jacket together, and 
 comparing them with my own, which I had taken 
 
Millbank. 97 
 
 off, I was visited by an assistant schoolmaster, 
 wlio brought me a Bible, Prayer and Hymn- 
 Books, also a volume of the ' Leisure Hour.' He 
 made me write a few verses of a Psalm on my 
 slate, to see my handwriting, and finding I did 
 not require any of his instruction told me I need 
 not attend school, but, during the hour each 
 week, when other members of the ward were at 
 their lessons, I should be at liberty to read or 
 write, and need not continue at my work. He 
 also asked if I wished to write to any friends at 
 the next school day, or defer it. If I did not 
 exercise the privilege within a month I should 
 lose it. I need hardly say I booked myself to 
 write the very first opportunity. 
 
 One day each week the schoolmasters came into 
 our ward for one hour to give instruction to all 
 those who were deficient; Every ceU door and 
 gate in the ward was thrown open, and work was 
 knocked off. When the day arrived that I was to 
 write home I was directed to go to t!^e end of the 
 ward, where I found a number of small tables, one 
 of which, with an inkstand, a pen, and piece of 
 blotting-paper, I took into my cell. A sheet of 
 regulation paper was brought to me, on which 
 H 
 
98 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 was already written my name and official mimber, 
 also the date. A' few lines of printing gave me 
 directions as to certain rules I was not to infringe. 
 I was to confine my writing to tlie ruled lines — 
 not to write between them or to cross my letter ; 
 was not to give any information respecting any 
 other prisoner, or any prison news; was not to 
 write to any improper person, or to use any im- 
 proper language. 
 
 Every letter to or from a prisoner is examined 
 by the deputy-governor, who initials it and passes 
 it on to the chaplain. He also reads and initials 
 it. Each strikes out anything they consider as 
 infringing the rules, or as improper either for a 
 prisoner to know or communicate. There was a 
 notice on the back of the letter intimating to the 
 friends of prisoners that they were to confine their 
 • communications to domestic and personal matters, 
 and not to say anything about the general news 
 of the day. Anything of this sort would be 
 struck out or the letter returned to the sender. 
 
 Knowing my letters were to be subject to both 
 an official and clerical examination, I was as carefiil 
 as possible as to what I did say, and I do not 
 think there was ever one word erased from any 
 
Millbank. 99 
 
 letter I ever wrote, and as I drew my friends' 
 special attention to the rules, they too conformed 
 to them, and my letters all passed the censorship 
 without any remarks. If in moderation, a man's 
 wife need not confine herself to one sheet or two, 
 and other members of his family were permitted 
 to contribute to the same letter. Nothing was 
 allowed to be sent to any prisoner, not even the 
 photograph of a wife or child. This I cannot 
 but think a mistake; anything that tends to 
 soften and humanise a man's heart can do him no 
 harm — far otherwise. The sight now and then of 
 the face of a loved one, I am sure, would have kept 
 more than one man I, came in contact wiLh from 
 breaking prison rules. 
 
 At the close of the school hour the library books 
 are changed, and a man can go and see what books 
 there are, a number being brought into the ward, 
 and take what he likes. One of the rules states 
 that prisoners are not to exchange books with one 
 another, but this was one of the few rules that I 
 systematically infringed. I think I read every 
 book in the ward worth perusing. I valued highly 
 this privilege of reading, and it was to me my 
 greatest help and comfort throughout the whole 
 
 h2 
 
lOO Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 time of my servitude. At Dartmoor the library is 
 even better tban at Millbank ; ia fact, was an ex- 
 cellent one. I consider tbis tbe one merciful in- 
 dulgence allowed to tbe convict. Of course tbere 
 are many men wbo do not care for reading, but to 
 very many otbers it is an inestimable blessing. 
 
 Sometimes a scripture reader, a very agreeable 
 and well-informed man, paid me a visit, and 
 although, as I could read for myself, he did not 
 read to me, his conversation on various topics 
 was always welcome, and I was glad whenever his 
 cheerful face appeared at my door. 
 
 Once only, during nearly thirteen months that 
 I was at MiUbank, did I have a visit from the 
 chaplain, and that did not last three minutes. 
 The governor would come round about once a 
 month, and the deputy-governor every vveek, when 
 the cell doors were all thrown open as on the chief 
 warder's inspection. A prisoner could see the 
 governor any day by giving notice in the morning. 
 I never had occasion to see the governor of Mill- 
 bank, and consequently was never in his oflBce. 
 
 The doctor occasionally had examinations of 
 the men, when each man had to strip in the 
 doctor's oflace in the infirmary. Men were 
 
Millbank. loi 
 
 weighed also, and their weights registered. By 
 this means it was seen pretty well the state of a 
 man's health. Some of these examinations had 
 reference to the drafting away men to the hard 
 labour stations. 
 
 Some men were for everlasting troubling the 
 doctor. I never did but once. I had a bad tooth : 
 it ached, and I could not stand it, so sported my 
 broom for the doctor. A little before twelve I 
 was called out and marched over to the infirmary. 
 I know not why it is, but both at Millbank and 
 Dartmoor the warders stationed at tihe infirmaries 
 are about the greatest brutes in the place. One 
 would naturally suppose a man would be selected 
 for such a station -with some little store of the 
 milk of human kindness in him. Au contraire, 
 they choose men utterly devoid of anything of 
 the kind. 
 
 On arriving at the infirmary I waited on the 
 stairs in great pain for some time, till my turn 
 came, for there were many men up for the doctor. 
 
 At last it came, and in I went. 
 
 ' What's the matter ? ' said an assistant doctor. 
 
 ' Have a bad tooth, sir, and will thank you to 
 take it out.' 
 
I02 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 ' Which is it? Ah ! an upper. Stand there.' 
 
 * Stand I did. A couple of wrenches, and 
 out it was. My mouth, of course, was fall of 
 blood, and I naturally looked round for some place 
 to spit into. At the moment the assistant was 
 called away by the doctor into another room. 
 
 ' Now then,' savagely said the warder, ' what 
 are you looking for, Righb-about face — march ! ' 
 
 I dare not spit on the floor. As I reached the 
 top of the stairs I heard the assistant, who had 
 more feeling than the warder, call out, ' Let that 
 man wash his mouth out,' but the brute either 
 would not or did not hear, and not till I reached 
 the gravelled yard could I spit out the blood, and 
 I had to wait till I reached my own ward before 
 I could wash my mouth out with cold water. I 
 told Paddy how I had been served, ' Och ! he didn't 
 feel the pincers himself a bit ; it's a pity he didn't. 
 Go to the sink my boy, and wash away.' 
 
 I have said that Paddy took a pride in his 
 ward, and I believe every man appreciated it, and 
 did his best to keep the old man in good humour. 
 
 He was, in fact, a favourite with us all, for he 
 did his best to make our time with him as pass- 
 able as it was possible. He was always kind to the 
 
Millbank. 103 
 
 men under his charge, and I do not remember 
 his kindness being once abused. He managed to 
 get together about the quietest and best behaved 
 men in the prison into his ward. Not so other 
 wards : rows of all sorts, and consequently reports 
 and punishments, were continually going on. On 
 our way to chapel of a morning, in going through 
 the other wards, we passed the dark cells, and I 
 never knew them to be once untenanted. There was 
 a little man in the ward adjoining us, on the same 
 corridor, that was always in hot water, and giving 
 infinite trouble. Whenever he had a chance he 
 would steal bread or soup out of another man's 
 cell. Frequently he would tear up his bed clothes' 
 and his own clothes, and when the warder would 
 open his cell in the morning, would find him as 
 naked as Adam, seated amidst a heap of rags and 
 tatters. Books he tore into shreds and threw out 
 of his window. He was always in punishment. 
 One night a new idea struck him. He was tired 
 of merely tearing up his things : he thought he 
 would burn them, so very shortly after he had got 
 his gas alight he set to work. The first intima- 
 tion we had was a cry of fire, a deal of running 
 about, and most unearthly shrieks from the foolish 
 
I04 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 fellow, who did not calculate that a straw bed, 
 once in a blaze, was just enough to roast him. 
 We all looked out of our windows and saw the 
 smoke streaming from his cell window. Some 
 were alarmed, and set to shrieking as well, fearing 
 they would all be baked in their cells like birds in 
 a pie. 
 
 On the warders opening the door of his cell, of 
 course the sudden draught freshened the fire, and 
 they were driven back directly. One with more . 
 gumption than the others dropped on to his hands 
 and knees, and crawled in. Not far from the 
 door he found the stupid fellow lying on the floor 
 insensible, and dragged him iato the corridor. 
 The door was closed, and the burning straw soon 
 burned itself out, without any other damage than 
 blackening the walls and ceiling, and half-suffocat- 
 ing the troublesome prisoner. On being brought 
 iuto the fresh air he soon recovered, and was 
 marched off to a punishment cell there and then. 
 This same man got into trouble when he was 
 drafted off to go with a gang of prisoners to 
 Dartmoor, through trying to secrete some pins 
 and needles about his person in a most extraordi- 
 nary manner. 
 
Millbank. 105 
 
 Every day for one hour we were marclied down 
 into the yards for exercise, and some of the able- 
 bodied men were set to work to pump supplies of 
 water, into the large cisterns at the top of each of 
 the fifteen round towers of the prison. Others 
 were set to sweep and roll the gravel of the exer- 
 cise grounds, and sometimes all the stone-work in 
 which the iron railings dividing the area of the 
 pentagon into dififerent yards, were set would be 
 holystoned and cleaned by the prisoners. 
 
 In the centre of each pentagon was a round 
 building, the lower storey of which formed a 
 guard room, with a sleeping room on the upper 
 storey, in which those officers on duty for the 
 night, and also several of the single assistant 
 warders, slept. These buildings were round, with 
 windows looking in every direction, so that the 
 officers had fuU cognizance of everything going on. 
 Each pentagon was under the superintendence of 
 two principal warders, one of whom was always 
 on duty. Every ward had its own special warder 
 and his assistant. Each pentagon had its own 
 kitchen, and it was the duty of the principal on 
 duty to inspect every man's rations before they 
 were sent up into the wards for distribution. 
 
io6 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 The food at Millbank is plain but good and 
 well cooked, and, considering the little exercise 
 the men have, not insufficient. Of course men 
 grumble at it, but I am sure many are far better 
 fed in prison than they are out. I had no means 
 of judging if the kitchen departments were 
 clean, never having been in them at Millbank, but 
 I never saw any reason to think they were not. 
 The soup was really most excellent, evidently 
 made from heads and shins of beef, well stewed, 
 and thickened with pearl barley and vegetables. ■ 
 The Millbank soup was superior to that of Dart- 
 moor, though that was very fair. The beef and 
 mutton were good and well cooked, but the beef 
 was generally all lean, and the muttqn all fat, and 
 as a prisoner was not allowed to keep the food 
 from one day to another this was awkward, as 
 otherwise he might keep the fat mutton io go 
 with the lean beef. With the meat was half-a- 
 pint of the liquor it was boUed in, flavoured with 
 onions or leeks. This was quite as good as the 
 Newgate soup, which was served without meat. 
 
 The variety of vegetables, or of substitutes for 
 them at such times as between the seasons of old 
 and new potatoes, quite surprised me, and did 
 
Millbank. 107 
 
 great credit to the caterer. Cabbages, parsnips, 
 carrots, were frequently served out, also rice, peas- 
 pudding, baricot beans, and preserved potatoes. 
 I was mucb surprised to find celery in tbe soup, 
 but found that large quantities of celery were 
 grown in the prison gardens and sent to market, 
 and the outside stalks and leaves trimmed off were 
 utilised in tbe prisoners' soup. 
 
 Occasionally salt poi-k was served out, and 
 formed a change. When it was there was always 
 a much larger allowance given to each man. On 
 Thursdays no meat or soup, but a great square 
 block of suefc pudding weighing lib., and the usual 
 allowance of potatoes. On Sundays cheese only 
 composed our dinner, but the loaf served in the 
 morning was considerably larger than on weekdays. 
 
 Before dinner is served, each man is supplied 
 through his inspection hole with a tin knife with 
 which to cut his meat, and this he has to give up 
 again after dinner. This was one of the things I 
 did not like at all, as many of the knives were very 
 fai* from being clean or desirable-looking articles. 
 I always had my brickdust trays ready to clean mine 
 directly it was shot through the hole. At Dart- 
 moor everv man had his own knife in his cell, and 
 
io8 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 kept it as bright as silver and as sharp as a razor. 
 Some men amused themselTSS with scratching, not 
 only their names, but a short history of their case 
 and supposed grievances on the tin knives. Some, 
 again, chose this method to give vent to expletives 
 and anathemas against the prison authorities, 
 that they did not dare to speak. I need hardly 
 say that these latter did not bear either signature 
 or official numbers. 
 
 The dinners were served in oblong-shaped tins, 
 divided in the centre into two distinct compart- 
 ments, with a lid to each. The division in the 
 centre came up so as to form a convenient handle. 
 Both lids being closed down, the dinners were 
 kept pretty hot, and there was no chance of any 
 picking and choosing, or unfair favouritism in 
 serving them out. I am sorry to say that as a 
 rule these tins were disgracefully dirty, and re- 
 flected no credit on the officers who had charge of 
 the gangs supposed to be employed in cleaning 
 them. Complaints were frequently made by pri- 
 soners to the governor, and for a time a little 
 more care in rinsing them out would be taken, but 
 except when first new they were never really clean. 
 The authorities were most particular that every 
 
Millbank. 109 
 
 man's pewter utensil sliould be as bright as silver, 
 but the can that his dinner was served to him in 
 was filthy half the time. 
 
 One hour was allowed for dinner : a bell rung 
 at 12, and frequently in our ward we all had our 
 dinners served out before the bell went. At one 
 o'clock the bell went again, and then every man 
 resumed his work. During that hour a man's 
 time was his own, and I used to hurry over my 
 dinner that I might have as long as possible to 
 enjoy my reading. This was my great solace, and 
 without it I fear I should have gone mad, for 
 being so much by myself, my fearful position and 
 fallen estate, and the ruin it had brought on those 
 so dear to me, would rise up before me in condem- 
 nation. I believe that if the authorities were to 
 take away the books a very large proportion of 
 the convicts, and particularly the better class, 
 those who have lost a good position, would become 
 insane. A man's whole life passes like a pano- 
 rama before him. This mistake and that failure 
 — the error in judgment in this case and miscalcu- 
 lation in that — all come up and are plainly seen 
 now it is too late. Lost or misapplied oppor- 
 tunities rise in judgment against' the man as he 
 
no Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 sits in his horrid convict dress over his solitary- 
 work in prison. Where else can he fly but to 
 books, and specially to the Book of Books, God's 
 own word ? I read a great deal of the Bible while 
 in prison, and obtained a greater and deeper know- 
 ledge of it than ever I did before. Each prisoner 
 is allowed tp have a certain number of what they 
 call school books in his cell, besides the library 
 book. The scripture reader brought me ' Mcholls' 
 Help to Beading the Bible,' and I would recom- 
 mend everyone to obtain it, old or young. It 
 assisted me wonderfully. 
 
 •Directly the warders return from dinner the 
 cans and tin knives are collected, and work pro- 
 ceeds. Once every week during the exercise hour 
 the men go to the bath — once a fortnight for a 
 wash all over, and the alternate week feet washing 
 only. About every ten days or so a man's hair 
 and beard are clipped down. 
 
 Saturday was always a busy day with our 
 warder, Paddy. Just before dinner is served each 
 man has a bundle of clean clothes handed to him 
 —shirt, stockings, towel, and pocket-handkerchief, 
 and, every alternate Saturday, flannel drawers and' 
 vest. These he has to put on during his dinner- 
 
Millbank. in 
 
 lioxir, and after dinner tlie dirty things are col- 
 lected. On Saturdays were served out the allow- 
 ances of salt, bath-brick, cleaning-rags, and paper, 
 and, every alternate Saturday, soap. On Saturdays, 
 too, any repairs to clothes were attended to. Why 
 or wherefor I know not, but we were forbidden to 
 mend our own clothes. Paddy would come round 
 and ask through the inspection hole, * 20,001, is 
 yer breeches broke ? ' If they were he would give 
 you another pair to wear, and your own had a 
 little leather label or tally tied to them, with the 
 number of the ward, and a tin tally with the pri- 
 soner's number, and the next Saturday the ' broken 
 breeches ' would come back duly repaired. In one 
 of the wards the men did nothing else but these 
 repairs. 
 
 Sunday was a very quiet day, though we had 
 to go to church twice and had exercise in the 
 afternoon. The morning bell for getting' up did 
 not go till seven, and of course there was no work. 
 The warders came out in fall dress, and those who 
 had served in the army or navy sported their 
 medals, and made a brave appearance at church. 
 
 The things that wore out most with me were 
 shoes. We all had low shoes, and what with the 
 
112 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 stone passages, the gravel of the exercise yards, 
 and, I expect, the bad quality of the leather, the 
 soles seemed to last no time. Whenever vre went 
 to the bath-room, in one corner were a heap of 
 mended shoes, and, first of all asking permission, 
 a man could select a pair if he could get them "to 
 fit him, and cast his old ones on one side, to be in 
 their turn repaired. 
 
 During the winter, although the prison is very 
 fairly heated, I suffered considerably from cold. 
 Directly after the return of the officers from break- 
 fast, any number of sticks, black end out, were 
 thrust from the holes in the wall. Every man 
 had work that needed pressing, and I can assure 
 the reader a good hot tailor's goose is no bad 
 thing to place in the middle of a small cell to 
 get a little extra warmth from. It was wonderful 
 how much more pressing our work needed in cold 
 weather than hot. On a cold day a hot goose is 
 as great a comfort as it is a nuisance on a hot 
 one. 
 
 In the earlier part of my narrative I stated 
 that the quantity of bread was more than I 
 ■required. To give any article of food to another 
 prisoner is a grievous sin in the eyes of prison 
 
Millbank. 113 
 
 authorities, but there was nothing in the rules 
 against feeding the sparrows outside, so I had 
 quite a muster of the saucy little fellows every 
 day on the deep sill of my window. My cell was 
 next to the space occupied by the flues of the heat- 
 ing apparatus that warmed and ventilated thewhole 
 four floors of C building in our pentagon. The space 
 was exactly the same size as a cell, and, indeed, the 
 four cells froni the bottom corridor, where the fires 
 were, to our top corridor, were all devoted to this 
 purpose. Not only did it make my cell warmer 
 than many of the others, but, as for some purpose 
 the glass was taken out of the window-frames, it 
 formed a most convenient and comfortable place 
 for the sparrows to build their nests in. No creature 
 in this world is more wide awake than a London 
 sparrow, and so advantageous a position for nidi- 
 fication and incubation did not go unappreciated. 
 It was simply crowded with them, and a fine chat- 
 tering noise they made in the early spring time. 
 Their chirruping invariably woke me before the 
 prison bell. My crumbs were looked for by them 
 regularly, and as I did not eat much more than 
 half my allowance of bread, I was enabled to feed 
 plenty of them. They were not at all shy, and 
 
 I 
 
114 -^^2'^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 would come close up to the glass. At times one 
 more impudent tlian another would jump up on to 
 the cross bar of the iron grating at the window 
 and chirp to tell me to make haste over my own 
 breakfast and give him and his mates theirs. 
 These birds afforded me much amusement. 
 
 When the summer came round, with it came 
 the season for white -washing, and the prison was 
 done throughout. All the prisoners had a turn 
 at this work. It was not hard work, but very 
 unpleasant, and as the wash was made with lime, 
 the splashes burned the skin very badly, if we were 
 not careful. It was in going about with a white- 
 wash gang that I obtained a good deal of in- 
 formation about the prison, and particularly of its 
 design and plan. We were engaged at this work 
 altogether for a week, when others took our 
 places, and we returned to our 'botching tailoring.' 
 Three days we worked in our own pentagon and 
 in the infirmary, and three days in the women's 
 wards. We saw nothing of the women, as, before 
 we went in, the ward to be whitened was cleared 
 out. 
 
 English people have a strange and irresistible 
 habit of writing their names and all manner of 
 
Millbank. 115 
 
 things on the walls wherever they may be. It is 
 a thiag I hold in abhorrence, and never am guilty 
 of it. To see every public building and place 
 scribbled over with the names and addresses of 
 Brown, Jones, and Eobinson always irritates me 
 and lessens my enjoyment of very many places. 
 I should not be surprised but that in the top 
 storey of the porcelain tower of Nankin will be 
 found the name and address of John or WiUiam 
 Smith. As it is iii the outer world so it is in 
 prison, and many were the curious histories 
 scrawled upon the cell-walls of Millbank Prison. 
 The men generally were satisfied with a simple 
 statement of a fact, as — ' Tohomas Hopkins came 
 her from the ■ Steel, 1st April, 1854, 7 years 
 for slinging my hook,' then in some eases would 
 foUow the reverse of a prayer for the future well- 
 being of the convicting judge. ' Slinging his 
 hook ' is the professional term for picking pockets. 
 A good deal of very improper language 
 adorned, or rather disfigured, the walls of the 
 men's cells, and here and there much that was 
 blasphemous and profane ; but strange to say, it 
 was the women that inscribed obscenity and 
 indecency, in some instances illustrated artisti- 
 
 i2 
 
ii6 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 cally, on their walls. I know that when a woman 
 is bad she is rery bad, but I thought a certain 
 amount of modesty lay dormant in the most aban- 
 doned. Since I have seen what some of the female 
 prisoners scratched upon their cell-walls I know 
 otherwise. An old friend of mine used to say 
 there are three sexes — men, women, and beasts ; 
 several of the latter were imprisoned in Millbank. 
 What most surprises me is that such inscriptions 
 and drawings were allowed to remain on the walls 
 one week. Who inspects these cells ? Are the 
 female warders blind, or are they as bad as the 
 women who scribble these things ? 
 
 The day I worked in the infirmary made me 
 feel very sad. To see a man stretched upon a 
 bed of sickness is a sorry sight at any time, but 
 when that bed is in a prison cell, with an iron 
 gate at its entrance, securely locked, and a very 
 possible chance that the same may be — indeed, in 
 all probability wiU be — your own fatfs, makes a 
 man's heart quake and his courage sink to, zero. 
 Mine did for a moment when first I walked past 
 those infirmary cells and saw the pining, sickly 
 faces through those fearful bars. On no day I think, 
 during the whole of my four years of imprison- 
 
Millbank. 117 
 
 ment, did my heart droop so low as on that day. 
 I could not but think that night the same might 
 he my own case, and how soon ? I have suffered 
 illness in my time, even to death's door, hut I 
 have had tender nursing, have been surrounded 
 by dear ones who anticipated every want or wish 
 — but to be ill in a convict prison, with not one 
 kind or sympathising face to smUe upon you, to 
 be coarsely and rudely tended by some feUow- 
 prisoner, whose sole object in endeavouring to 
 be made ' hospital orderly ' is for the purpose of 
 feasting himself on the few little dainties ordered 
 by the doctor, of which he robs the wretched 
 invalid when a warder's back is turned ! Such a 
 prospect made me shudder, and I prayed to God 
 to spare me that trouble : those at home prayed, ' 
 and prayed earnestly, that I might live to return 
 home again, and find the dear flock unscathed, 
 and miss no dear little face to mar the joy of 
 meeting. Grod in his mercy heard our prayers, 
 and both I and mine were spared sickness 
 throughout the whole time. To be ill whilst a 
 convict is sad, to die a convict is terrible. To die 
 at sea and be cast into the waves, roUed up in 
 a hammock, with a shot at the feet to carry the 
 
ii8 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 poor soulless body to the lowest depths below, to 
 some seems a sad and piteous fate. To be shot 
 down or mangled by a bursting shell amid the 
 battle's roar yields at least the satisfaction that a 
 man dies doing his duty and falls in his country's 
 cause; but to die a convict, to be buried in an 
 unknown, uncared-for grave, thrust into a prison 
 cofiSn filled up with dirty sawdust, as I have seen 
 them done at Dartmoor, so that the ragged old 
 shirt given out to do duty for a shroud may be 
 saved for other purposes, is but a sorry end for a 
 man who has once lived respected and beloved. 
 
 Every precaution is taken that no man shall 
 make his escape, and the first care naturally is. 
 that he should never be possessed of any tool or 
 instrument of any kind that is at all likely to aid 
 him in making the attempt. This is guarded 
 against by constant vigilance, and frequent search 
 is made both of prisoners' cells and of their persons. 
 I remember well the first time my chamber was 
 ' turned over,' as it is called. Always while the 
 men are bathing, the officer examines their clothing. 
 One day, on going in after exercise, I was sur- 
 prised, on passing the doors of several cells, to see 
 everytlung in confusion, and on reaching my own 
 
Millbank. 1 1 9 
 
 I found some qne had been there kicking up 
 ' Meg's diversion ' — books were thrown . in one 
 corner, bedding unrolled and cast about in every 
 direction, not an article but had been misplaced 
 and thoroughly examined ; even the little bag with 
 the bath brick and rags was turned inside out 
 and its contents strewed all over the place. This 
 took place some three times during my stay there. 
 Sometimes a personal ' turn over ' would be 
 made. Two officers enter a man's cell ; one 
 stands before and the other behind the prisoner, 
 who strips off every rag he wears. The one in 
 front thoroughly examines each article, and 
 throws them one by one on the ground at his 
 feet. The warder behind narrowly watches that 
 the prisoner does not ' palm ' anything — -in other 
 words, practise some legerdemain trick to conceal 
 any contraband .article he might have upon him. 
 Such a thing as a rusty nail being found on a 
 man or in his ceU would get him into serious 
 trouble, and be construed into preparation for an 
 attempt to escape. Once a man brought up from 
 the yard a good-sized stone, as big as an orange. 
 Why or wherefore, except for the reason the 
 authorities gave him credit for, I cannot tell. 
 
I20 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 He was suspected, if not actually accused, of 
 intending to use it as a weapon to attack one of 
 the warders with, and was severely punished, 
 besides being fined a serious number of marks. 
 
 The principal 'contraband' article that get^ 
 men into trouble in prisons is ' tobacco.' ' How is 
 it possible,' the reader asks, ' for a man locked up 
 and taken such care of to get tobacco ? He could 
 as easily get the Crown jewels.' Nevertheless, 
 tobacco is being frequently found. The question 
 is. Where does it come from ? Who brings it into 
 the prison? While I was at Dartmoor nearly 
 a pound of tobacco was found secreted in one 
 man's cell. It cannot come by itself. There is 
 only one way for it to come : it is brought 
 in by the oflicers. With some exceptions, the 
 warders are as bad a lot of men as can be found, 
 and many of them are, if anything, worse than 
 the prisoners. The ' pals ' or friends of a man 
 in trouble soon find out where he is, and set 
 about ' working the oracle ' with some warder to 
 'sling him some bacca.' These men arrange 
 with a warder, whom they have ' squared,' to give 
 their 'pal in grief so many ounces of 'bacca.' 
 They have a freemasonry sign by which they can 
 
Millbank. 1 2 1 
 
 get such a receipt from the man to the warder as 
 •will satisfy them he has duly performed his con- 
 tract. As much as a sovereign for every ounce 
 so delivered will they sometimes pay, and as it 
 only costs the warder two or three pence, his 
 profit is pretty good. The prisoners who get 
 supplies this way seldom or ever * round ' on the 
 ' screw,' anglice hetray an officer, so long as he 
 acts ' square ' with them and their ' pals ' outside. 
 This tobacco is chewed, as no prisoner has the 
 remotest chance of smoking without instant dis- 
 covery. 
 
 Now and again a warder does get 'bowled 
 out,' and comes to grief. At the very least he 
 loses his situation. There are several ways in 
 which this occurs. What I am now saying re- 
 lates as much to Dartmoor as to Millbank, and 
 indeed more so. A prisoner gets tobacco; he 
 either in a generous moment gives a piece to a 
 fellow-prisoner or a ' mate ' smells it, and dis- 
 covers what he has got. The secret once so far 
 divulged, his 'mate' soon finds out who the. 
 ' blooming screw ' is that ' slung the smash,' i.e. 
 brought in the tobacco. All goes smoothly till 
 either the two ' mates ' ' split ' or the ' blooming 
 
122 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 bloke,' tlie obliging officer, falls foul of the pos- 
 sessor of the secret, not dreaming the man knows 
 anything about his having supplied the tobacco. 
 The prisoner,' burning for revenge, quietly bides 
 his time tUl the chief warder comes round, then 
 asks to speak to him, and ' blows the gaff.' Pro- 
 bably no notice is taken at the time, but that 
 warder , is ' spotted ' by the chief warder, spies 
 perhaps even ' planted,' and the whole thing soon 
 comes out. In some instances officers have been 
 prosecuted and imprisoned. Men wiU run any 
 risk and do anything to get ever so little^of the 
 much-coveted ' weed,' or even the very remotest 
 flavour of it. I have known a man pick up a 
 piece of a dirty old castaway brbken clay pipe. It 
 was a treasure — broken into small pieces, some- 
 times ground up — sucked, or chewed, and relished 
 like the finest honeydew. A prisoner will give 
 his dinner in exchange for a piece of such an old 
 pipe. 
 
 With regatd to stopping prisoners having to- 
 bacco, running the risks, and getting into the 
 scrapes and punishments they do, there is only 
 one effectual way to do it. No officer, while on 
 duty or even within the prison precincts, should 
 
Millbank. 
 
 123 
 
 be allowed to have any tobacco in his possession, 
 even for his own use. A warder brings in tobacco 
 for a prisoner. Unless detected in the actual fact 
 of giving it to him, how can it be proved it is not 
 for his own consumption ? If the authorities will 
 forbid any tobacco entering the prison walls, or 
 any ojfficer using it within the limits of the estab- 
 lishment, then and not till then can this subject 
 be properly and effectually dealt With. If a rule 
 of this sort is made, and officers are searched 
 when entering on their duties, and most severe 
 penalties made for breaking the rules, the supply 
 of tobacco will instantly cease, and there wiU be 
 no more trouble about it. It is most unjust and 
 unfair to punish prisoners for the possession of an 
 article that the authorities must know perfectly 
 well can only be brought within their reach by 
 their own officers, the very men whose duty it is 
 first to prevent their getting it, and then to 
 punish them for having it. It is simple cruelty. 
 There is no doubt but there are many of the 
 officials of the convict prisons who are what the 
 Yankees call ' bad eggs.' The authorities know 
 it, and constant changes are taking place. 
 
 Old soldiers make the best officers. The life 
 
124 Five Years^ Penal Servittide. 
 
 suits them, and they are used to a somewhat 
 similar discipline. My only wonder is that any 
 man who can earn a crust outside, by any other 
 means, ever enters such a service. Many try it, 
 and after a few months leave it in disgust. Their 
 life is but very little better than the prisoners'. I 
 can well understand a man continuing in the 
 police force : the life is active, the man has plenty 
 of change, and he is generally respected. A 
 convict warder is a man continually in a tiger's 
 cage. With few exceptions, the men he is placed 
 over are great scoimdrels, with but few redeeming 
 qualities, who hate the warders placed over them, 
 regarding every one of the prison authorities as 
 their natural enemies. 
 
 A warder comes on duty at six in the morn- 
 ing, and, with the exception of meal-times, is with 
 the prisoners till nine at night. Every alternate 
 Sunday he is off duty. How much better is this 
 than the life of the prisoners themselves ? I have 
 said they are a bad lot — the majority of them. I 
 shall, when we get to Dartmoor, tell of a few 
 of their ' little games.' I will now give an in- 
 stance of a case where an officer, not acting 
 'square' with a prisoner, got 'planted' and 
 
Millbank. 125 
 
 * sucked in ' ' to rights.' The result was, he got 
 his full deserts. 
 
 A certain prisoner, who was what is termed ^ 
 very ' fly ' man, -i.e., a cleyer, scheming fellow, and 
 who had * pals ' outside flush of money, having 
 noticed a particular of&cer, and ' spotted ' him as 
 being one likely to 'do business,' sounded him 
 as to getting tobacco and other matters. The 
 warder, nothing loth to make money, 'tumbled,' 
 i.e., entered into an arrangement with him to 
 write to certain friends of the prisoner's, and get 
 money for this purpose. The bargain was that in 
 the first place the warder was to have 10s. out of 
 every 20s. for himself, and then charge certain 
 exorbitant prices for the tobacco and other things 
 he was to bring to the man, in small daily quan- 
 tities, so as to obviate any danger of a ' stock " 
 ever being found either in his cell or on his 
 person, in case of a ' turn over.' All went well 
 for the best part of a year. Then the supplies 
 seemed to fail — at least so the officer told the man 
 — and, after drooping and drooping, they stopped 
 altogether. At last another prisoner, a pal of 
 this man's, whose time was out, and who was 
 about to get his discharge, arranged that when he 
 
126 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 reached London lie would look up the man's 
 friends, and ascertain what was the cause of the 
 stoppage. On being discharged and going to the 
 friends of his fellow-prisoner, the whole thing 
 came out. Far from having stopped their sup- 
 plies, they were surprised their unfortunate friend 
 was so importunate in his demands for money. 
 That very week a letter had come from the 
 warder, asking for lOZ., saying the prisoner re- 
 quired money for a most special purpose of very 
 great importance. The prisoner's friend was also 
 a 'fly' man, and he immediately saw how he 
 could thoroughly pay off the ' crooked ' officer. 
 Two Bank of England five-pound notes, were sent, 
 as usual, by post, and in due course received. 
 The sender quietly waited and looked anxiously in 
 the local papers published in the vicinity of the 
 convict establishment where his friend was con- 
 fined, till at last what he expected appeared in a 
 paragraph somewhat as follows : — « Serious Charge 
 against an Officer in the Convict Prison of Star- 
 town. — A B, a warder at Startovm, and C D, his 
 wife, were brought before the county magistrates, 
 charged with uttering and being in possession of 
 forged Bank notes. Peter Jones, a draper at 
 
Millbank. 127 
 
 Blankville, deposed that on Tuesday last the 
 female prisoner came to his shop and purchased 
 an alpaca dress, a polka jacket, and other ar- 
 ticles, amounting to 2Z. 4s. lOcZ., in payment for 
 which she presented a Bank of England hi. note, 
 and received 2?. 15s. 2c?. in change. 
 
 ' Joseph Smith, clerk of the Eoyal County 
 Bank at Blankville, deposed that he had received 
 the 6?. note produced from Mr. Peter Jones, toge- 
 ther with other moneys, and placed the same to 
 his credit. The number and date of the note 
 were duly entered in the receiving cash-hook, and 
 also in the paying cash-book. It was, with other 
 notes, sent to their head office in London, and 
 ' on being presented at the Bank of England was 
 pronounced a forgery. 
 
 ' Thomas A. Cute, a detective employed by the 
 Bank of England, deposed : " I was instructed 
 to proceed from Scotland Yard to Blankville to 
 investigate concerning the 5?. note produced. 
 I went to the house of the prisoners in the Bar- 
 racks outside convict prison, and saw the 
 
 female prisoner, who admitted having paid a 6Z. 
 note to Mr. Jones on Tuesday last, and said she 
 had received it from her husband. While con- 
 
128 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 versing witii her, the male prisoner came in to 
 his dinner ; and I immediately apprehended him 
 and his wife and conducted them to the office of 
 the governor of the prison. The prisoner refused to 
 give any account of where he obtained the hi. note 
 from; and on his being searched another hi. note, 
 now produced, together with 13s. \^d., was found 
 upon him." Colonel Dash, the Governor of Star- 
 town Prison, deposed that neither of the notes 
 had been paid to the prisoner as part of his pay. 
 His pay was 21s. a week, and was paid regularly 
 each month. The prisoners were remanded.' The 
 result was, the man was convicted for passing the 
 forged note and sentenced to fourteen years' penal 
 servitude ; the wife was acquitted. Those two 
 forged notes were purposely planted on him, and 
 both the 'fly' men were revenged. The prisoner's 
 friend had always previously sent him genuine 
 notes, but seeing how the fellow was acting he 
 sent him two ' shise ' notes, which gave him a dose 
 that ' cooked ' him. I saw the man myself, serving 
 his time at Dartmoor. 
 
 Twice I had a visit from friends while at Mill- 
 bank. The ordinary visiting room is built spe- 
 cially for the purpose. It is a little square house 
 in one of the pentagons, about 15 to 16 feet j 
 
Millbank. 1 29 
 
 square, ■witli two doors — one on eacli opposite 
 side. The interior is divided into three divisions 
 by two sets of iron bars, with close wirework 
 affixed to one of them. The friends of a prisoner 
 enter on one side and the convict at the other, 
 and in the space between the two iron gratings 
 sits a principal warder, who hears all that is said 
 and if needful checks the conversation if it wanders 
 into forbidden topics. For instance, it would be 
 quite contrary to rules and regulations for his 
 friends to tell a prisoner there was a war going 
 on in Turkey. It would also be quite wrong for 
 one prisoner to send a message for another pri- 
 soner to that man's friends through his own 
 visitors. These messages are sent, of course, but 
 in a roundabout sort of way. A visit of only half- 
 an-hour's duration under such circumstances is 
 anything but cheering or pleasant. Both the 
 good friends who came to see me are now at rest 
 from the cares of this world. One of them, a very 
 dear friend, I saw through those iron bars for the 
 very last time. I never saw either wife or child 
 of mine till I met them a free man. 
 
 One Sunday, in consequence of some cleaning 
 or repairs that were going on in the Protestant 
 
 E 
 
130 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 chapel, we all went to the Eoman Catholic one. 
 The paraphernalia of the altar had been removed, 
 and the Protestant chaplain conducted the usual 
 Church of England service. The arrangements 
 as to the seating of the men of the various wards 
 were altogether different from those adopted in the 
 Protestant chapel. Our ward was one of the first 
 to enter, and we were seated in such a . position 
 that I saw all the men of the other wards as they 
 marched in. I recognised several that had been 
 in Newgate with me, and who I had lost sight of 
 since my arrival at Millbank. I was greatly sur- 
 prised at seeing a face that I instantly recognised, 
 in spite of the sad change in dress and the total 
 absence of beard and whiskers. It was that of my 
 friend the victim of Warder ' Long-nosed Smith's ' 
 cruelty at Dartmoor. I know not which feeling 
 predominated — surprise at seeing him in such a 
 place and position, or burning shame that he should 
 see and recognise me in similar disgrace. The 
 last time I had met him was at his club 16 St, 
 James' Street, when I spent a pleasant hour with 
 him chatting over some of his amusing West 
 Indian experiences. Here he was, a member of a 
 very old county family, an Oxford man, a relative 
 
Millbank. 131 
 
 of "baronets and bankers, acquainted with half the 
 best men in London, and one of the most agree- 
 able and accomplished fellows I ever knew. He 
 had visited nearly every capital in Europe, and 
 spoke several foreign languages like a Eussian. 
 I never had an opportunity of speaking to him at 
 Millbank, but at Dartmoor I came into close prox- 
 imity to him ; and when I now remember the 
 dreadful and disgusting work he had the first 
 winter there, it makes me shudder. 
 
 The Catholic chapel is a mere shed erected in 
 one of the pentagon yards, but very conveniently 
 and decently fitted for the purpose. That day in 
 church, after the service was concluded and while 
 the prisoners were going .out, a fight took place 
 between two men that caused considerable con- 
 fusion. It was the first fight I had seen among 
 any of them, and was very speedily stopped by 
 the prisoners near to hand and before any of 
 the warders got there. Both were marched off 
 to 'chokee,' and I have no doubt got punished. 
 At Dartmoor I have seen several fights. 
 
 When the summer came round again, I knew 
 my period at Millbank was drawing to a close, and 
 I daily got more and more anxious regarding the 
 k2 
 
132 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 station I was to be drafted to. I had gathered 
 scraps of information from several prisoners re- 
 specting several of them, but I did not take 
 much notice of what I heard, as I had already 
 found how little reliance is to be placed on * pri- 
 soners' yarns.' I knew perfectly weU I should 
 not be put to hard labour, as I had already been 
 placed on the light labour list among the ' crip- 
 ples ; ' but I was quite aware that some stations 
 were far worse than others. Nearly thirteen 
 months elapsed before I was drafted off, and then 
 it came quite suddenly and without the slightest 
 intimation. 
 
 One day, as the dinners were being served, 
 Paddy said to me, '20,001, collect yir letters 
 together. Tie up your work, and put all your 
 flannels on.' 
 
 I guessed what that meant in a moment, and 
 as soon as I had eaten my dinner I undressed, 
 and put on my flannel drawers and vest, which 
 during the summer time I only used for sleeping 
 in. I took the few letters I had received during 
 my stay there from their resting-place in the 
 Bible, and quietly waited for the summons, in a 
 state of no little anxiety. At last it came. 
 
Millbank. 133 
 
 Nearly all our ward were told o£F, much to Old 
 Paddy's disgust, who really looked as if tears 
 were very near the surface with him at parting 
 with so many of his ' boys ' at once. Several of 
 us had been a year with him, and a mutual regard 
 had sprung up. I knew the end of my quiet, 
 though solitary, time was at an end. I dreaded 
 very much the being herded and brought into 
 daily, hourly contact with some of the ruffians 
 and blackguards I had hitherto been able to 
 keep at a distance. I would willingly have spent 
 my whole time at Millbank. I did know the 
 worst of that, but in going elsewhere I was going 
 to ' evils I knew not of.' 
 
 Forty of us found ourselves in the same cor- 
 ridor I had been received in on my arrival thirteen 
 months ago. Each man went separately into a 
 room with two warders, and was stripped and 
 ' turned over.' My letters were taken from me, and 
 I saw them tied up with my comb and brushes I 
 had brought from Newgate. I gave up my official 
 number-ticket on answering to my name, and was 
 identified as the right man. 
 
 The reader may consider this identification 
 somewhat unnecessary, but there has been more 
 
134 Fi'^^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 than one case of men changing their identity. 
 Two men with different sentences, one say seven, 
 and the other twenty years, for some reason or 
 'consideration,' whether arranged within the 
 prison walls between the men themselves, or 
 without the walls by their respective friends, 
 these men agree to change names, numbers, and 
 sentences. It may seem at first sight impossible, 
 but if the men are nearly the same height and 
 size it is not only possible, but, having seen as 
 much as I have, I can quite believe it has been 
 done. A crowd of men are brought down and 
 turned over to warders who have never had charge 
 of them, and who know very little, or anything,' 
 of them, and perhaps may not have ever noticed 
 them before. John Smith, 19,625, is called for, and 
 until he answers and produces his card of official 
 number, the principal of the receiving ward does 
 not know him from Adam, never having seen him, 
 most likely, for nine or twelve months. John 
 Smith's sentence is seven years for burglary, but 
 when the name is called Thomas Brown, 19,732, 
 whose sentence is twenty years for forgery, steps 
 forward, presents Smith's numerical card, and 
 claims his name. Once sent away from MUIbank 
 
Millbank. 135 
 
 in their reversed names, and without the mistake 
 being there and then discovered, and the result is 
 that Brown, who is well connected in the outer 
 world, instead of serving his long sentence, rejoins 
 his friends at a very much earlier date, and emi- 
 grates to another country. Smith has already 
 spent half his life in prison. He knows if he is 
 liberated on a ' ticket ' he will not be many weeks 
 out, so it matters little to him, and probably he 
 has the satisfaction of knowing that Brown has 
 behaved handsomely and done the right thing to 
 some one outside that is dear even to him — irre- 
 claimable item of humanity as he apparently is. 
 A man went from Newgate to Millbank with me 
 who was not actually a whole month out of prison. 
 Within twenty-eight days of his being discharged 
 from Millbank with a two years' 'ticket' he 
 re-entered the place on a new sentence of ten 
 years, to which was added the time of his un- 
 expired ticket of leave. The third day after his 
 discharge he got drunk, joined some old associates, 
 entered with them into a ' job,' and was captured 
 ' redhanded.' 
 
 When we were all re-dressed we were furnished 
 with new shoes, and each man received a canvas 
 
136 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 haversack^ in which were two loaves of bread, a 
 piece of cold boiled beef, and a quarter of a pound 
 of cheese. Thiere were large cans of coffee and 
 cocoa, and the doctor handed to one of the two 
 principals two bottles of medicine. The weather 
 was intensely hot, and some of the men had been 
 subject to diarrhoea. Chains and handcuffs were 
 then brought forward. After carefully fitting 
 them each man had his left hand fastened by 
 means of the handcuffs to long bright steel chains 
 — three lots of twelve and one of four. The least 
 of the three chief warders took command — he had 
 with him two principal, and either four or six 
 warders. The whole were armed with swords, 
 and had revolvers with them. 
 
 AU were in the greatest excitement to know 
 our destination. One of the officials happened to 
 say, ' Come on after us to Great Western station,' 
 when immediately 'Dartmoor' was whispered 
 down the corridor as our destination. 
 
Dartmoor. 137 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 BABTMOOB. 
 
 In the yard outside were four omnibuses, in which 
 we aJI bundled. The moment we stepped outside 
 the prison door a tacit licence seemed to be given 
 to the men to chatter and talk as they liked, and 
 most of them availed themselves of it at once. 
 
 To go through the public streets in daylight 
 in such company and such guise was too horrible 
 to think of. I used once to hoax myself with the 
 idea that no one would recognise me, cropped, 
 shaven, and disfigured ; but ever since I had so 
 readily remembered my friend A. on first seeing 
 him enter the Catholic chapel, that illusion was 
 dispelled, and my faith in disguises had vanished. 
 
 I had been fifteen months shut up, never 
 having seen a newspaper or heard one scrap of 
 news of any sort, and I looked about as we passed 
 
138 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 through, the streets for every poster on the walls, 
 and more particularly for the placards of the 
 various morning papers outside the newsvendors' 
 shops, to try and gather from the ' sensation ' an- 
 nouncements of their contents what was doing in 
 the world, now that I had left it. The theatrical 
 posters, also, interested me greatly,' and I saw the 
 names of new pieces, and of new actors that in- 
 flamed my curiosity greatly. 
 
 No sooner did we draw up at the Great Western 
 Railway than immediately a crowd collected to 
 see us alight. I cautiously cast my eyes around 
 dreading to catch sight of any known face, and I 
 tried to keep as much behind other men as pos- 
 sible. I noticed that many gazed for a moment 
 at us, and turned away with a look of contemptuous 
 pity and disgust, which, strange to say, rather 
 amused me than otherwise, particularly when I 
 saw a sleek and sniug-looking clergyman cast a 
 very Pharisaical glance at so much sin and 
 wickedness going to its just reward and punish- 
 ment. I imagined him to be making mental 
 notes of what he saw, with a view of dilating on 
 it in his next sermon. I dare say he expatiated 
 on ignorance and drink being the principal causes 
 
Dartmoor. 139 
 
 of those forty castaways having ' gone wrong.* 
 Little did he dream that there were two reverend 
 members of his own cloth amid that convict gang 
 — two ordained clergymen of the Established 
 Church, to both of whom, two short years ago, it 
 would have seemed impossible that they could 
 ever have been in such a position. There they 
 were though — one for applying to his own use 
 moneys subscribed by the charitable to be dis-' 
 tributed among the poor of his flock to whom he 
 expounded the law, and preached strict morality ; 
 the other for continuing to draw cheques upoi^ 
 his bankers, and inducing confiding tradesmen t6 
 give him good cash for the same, long after he had 
 ceased to have any balance and his bankers had 
 declined to keep open his account. 
 
 A large third-class saloon carriage was set 
 specially apart for us in the night mail train for 
 Plymouth, and so soon as we were all in and our 
 warders, the men began begging tobacco from the 
 people thronging the platform. Those next the 
 windows, in spite of chains and handcuffs, thrust 
 their heads out, notwithstanding the oft repeated 
 orders of the warders to desist. I need hardly 
 say those most prominent in so doing were not the 
 most respectable of our gang. 
 
I40 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 ' I say you, Sir, in tlie white choter, give a poor 
 devil a bit of bacca,' cried one, thrusting his head 
 from the window, and holding forth his free 
 hand. 
 
 * You with the giglamps, throw us your cigar. 
 Thant'ee, Sir, you're one of the right sort. May 
 you never want a pipe and the stuff to put in it.' 
 
 ' Now, then,' called out another man at the 
 next window, seeing the success of the appeal to 
 the gentleman in the spectacles, and who had 
 tossed his half-smoked cigar — * Now, then, all of 
 you, there's a good example ; pray don't be back- 
 ward in coming forward and following a straight 
 tip. We ain't any of us proud, so if you hav'nt 
 all got sheeroots, throw us baccy,' seeing one man 
 about to take some out of his pouch ; ' don't be 
 stingy, do it well while you are about it. Pitch 
 the lot here and I'll return you the case the next 
 time I see you.' 
 
 A hearty laugh from all around greeted this, 
 and the man actually did throw the poach, which 
 one of the warders in vain tried to obtain posses- 
 sion of. In an incredible short time the pouch 
 was emptied, and the prisoner who had first caught 
 it threw it back to the man in the crowd. 
 
Dartmoor. 141 
 
 * Here it is. Sir, and thank'ee, as I sha'nt be 
 this way again for a few weeks, I may as well let 
 you liave it back at once. We're a good deal more 
 honest than many of you think us.' 
 
 * Now, then, won't anyone send for. a gallon to 
 let us drink the gentleman's health 9 ' 
 
 Several people threw tobacco in at the windows 
 of our carriage, which the officers in vain tried to 
 prevent, both by appealing to the people on the 
 platform to desist, and by endeavouring to get it 
 fronj the men. No sooner was any thrown in than 
 it was distributed, and in a few minutes three- 
 fourths of the men had their mouths full of 
 tobacco. 
 
 Amid the scuffling inside between some of the 
 warders and the men, and the laughs of the by- 
 standers, the engine's last shriek was heard, and 
 we moved out of the station. The warders soon 
 desisted from their scuffling with the men about 
 the tobacco. I do not believe one of them got a 
 scrap of it, nor do I think they either cared or 
 wished to. What they did was but for show, and 
 to keep up the appearance of doing their duty. 
 We aU soon settled down for our long night's 
 journey. Some began to sing; I looked round 
 
142 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 about to see who I bad for neigbbours. I was 
 lucky in being end-man of one of tbe chains, and 
 was consequently next to the door of the carriage. 
 
 My right-hand neighbour was a very decent old 
 man, with whom I afterwards had many a long talt 
 in our exercise walks at Dartmoor. ]^His was 
 rather a hard case, and I found on enquiry after I 
 6btained my liberty he had told me nothing but 
 the truth. He came from Lancashire, and had 
 kept a refreshment and luncheon room near the 
 Exchange in one of the large manufacturing 
 towns. He had amassed a little money which he 
 had judiciously invested, and being comfortably 
 off, was bringing up his family in a respectable 
 way. Some of this man's customers, young men 
 in the various warehouses and countinghouses, 
 sometimes tendered him postage stamps, asking 
 him to oblige them with cash for them, which he 
 generally did, and gave the full value always. 
 
 One day a young man he thought he had seen 
 in his shop before asked him to give him cash for 
 ten shillings' worth of postage stamps, which he 
 did. By means of letters in the corners of all 
 postage stamps they can be as readily traced and 
 identified as bank notes are with their dates and 
 
Dartmoor. 143 
 
 numbers. Some little time previous to this a 
 post-office in some town in Lancashire had been 
 broken into by burglars, and among other things 
 taken were a large amount of postage stamps. 
 This unfortunate ten shillings' worth had formed 
 a portion of the stolen lot. The young man 
 could not be recollected or discovered, and in spite 
 of evidence to character, the fact that he had 
 occupied his shop for many years, and all that his 
 many respectable friends, including the incumbent 
 of the parish, could do for him, he was tried, 
 convicted, and sentenced for five years for pos- 
 session of the stolen stamps. His family met with 
 much commiseration and kindness. Steps were 
 taken before the trial to secure his property in a 
 legal way to his wife and children, and during the 
 whole time the old man was doing his time, which 
 he spent in knitting stockings, his wife and 
 family carried on the business as before. Being 
 in Lancashire after my liberation I called and 
 lunched at his place, and though I did not make 
 myself known, I readily ascertained that aU he 
 had told me was true. 
 
 Opposite to me sat a very ill-assimilated pair. 
 One a stout good-looking reverend gentleman — 
 
144 ^2^^ Year^ Penal Servitude. 
 
 one 6f those I mentioned before — and the other 
 about as repulsive a little blackguard as ever the 
 purlieus of Westminster or Whitechapel produced ; 
 the poor quondum clerico kept looking at the man 
 he was linked to with such a piteous expression of 
 •disgust I could hardly refrain from laughing. So 
 lugubrious a face I had seldom seen off the stage. 
 I consoled myself with the idea that after all, 
 though we had the society of the little * rough,' 
 and many more of his fraternity, they possessed 
 one virtue now that I fear they do not all possess 
 when in the outer world — they are, clean. When 
 encased iu their native dirt what must some of 
 these creatures be like. This man was starting on 
 his second ' lagging ' or term of servitude, and had 
 been in every borough and county jail in the home 
 counties. His peculiar * lay ' or line of business, 
 which always brought him into trouble, was the 
 stealing of pewter pots. 
 
 As we proceeded on our journey I recognised 
 more faces I had seen at Newgate and Millbank. 
 One, a nice-looking young fellow, barely eighteen 
 years of age, who had been collector for a city 
 warehouse, and having become introduced to a 
 well-known actress, old enough to have been his 
 
Dartmoor. 145 
 
 mother, was fascinated with her charms to such 
 an extent that he spent not only his own money, 
 but his master's too, upon her, with the result of 
 having to travel to Dartmoor in safe custody. He 
 had five years, and I am afraid he became during 
 his time thoroughly ruined. His widowed mother 
 died shortly after his conviction of a broken heart. 
 On his release and coming of age he would be 
 entitled to a sum of money, I believe £1,000. 
 ■ Several prisoners, including one of the parsons, 
 besides myself, tried our best to give him 
 good advice to steer clear of other prisoners of a 
 certain stamp and urged him to leave England 
 with his money for one of the colonies the moment 
 he was free, but I fear our advice was unheeded. 
 He was made a dead set at by some other prisonters, 
 who schooled him for a career of vice and crime 
 that assuredly would bring him there again. 
 Before I left I noticed a great change in him for 
 the worse. He had been thoroughly instructed 
 in aU manner of manoeuvres, and I am sorry to 
 say he seemed an apt pupil. The last time I saw 
 him at exercise, on the Sunday before I lefb Dart- 
 moor, his face had completely altered and lost all 
 the last remnants of innocency. It had assumed 
 
 L 
 
146 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 that peculiar expression so prevalent among habitual 
 thieves, and which, to those who know it, is un- 
 mistakable — a ' leary look,' in which fear, defiance, 
 and cunning are mixed up together. During the 
 term of his imprisonment he became an excellent 
 working tailor," and was ' on the board,' as it is 
 termed, among those who are efficient hands, their 
 trade outside being tailoring, and who are em- 
 ployed in the snip's shop at Dartmoor in making 
 officers' unifoi'ms for other prisons. 
 
 I heard many a history from prisoners, some 
 sad and some amusing, and I will relate those I 
 think may be interesting, or illustrative of some 
 of the evils I wish to point out in the convict 
 system, after our arrival at Dartmoor. 
 
 Gradually, as night wore on, the men dropped 
 off to sleep, leaning one against the other. When 
 ihe majority were slumbering, I had a long con- 
 -versation with the parson opposite to me. He 
 was an exceedingly pleasant and well-informed 
 man, and an intellectual conversation, even under 
 such circumstances, was a treat after so long a 
 severance from congenial society. We were after- 
 wards thrown a good deal into each other's com- 
 pany. I did not ask him any question as to the 
 
Dartmoor. 147 
 
 cause of his being there, nor did he evince any 
 cnriosity as to me. 
 
 It is the etiquette among prisoners never to 
 ask a man what he is ' in for.' The badge upon 
 his left arm gives his sentence as well as his 
 number, so there is no need to inquire ' what he 
 has got.' We have all heard of honour among 
 thieves. They have also rules of etiquette, and 
 that is one. If a man likes to be communi- 
 cative on the subject of his own affairs, that is 
 another thing ; but, till he does, no questions are 
 to be asked. This rule, however, does not at all 
 prevent other men, who may or may not know 
 the correct version of a prisoner's crime, from, 
 giving to their walking companions a full history 
 of any man in the prison. 
 
 It being night, vfery little notice was taken of 
 our gang at the various stations the train stopped 
 at. During the whole journey not a man, either 
 officer or prisoner, left the carriage till, at six o'clock 
 on a lovely bright morning at the end of August, 
 we all alighted at Plymouth. Here we were glad 
 to stretch our legs, and, very few people being 
 about, were allowed to walk up and down as far as 
 the chain would permit. Some people came and 
 L 2 
 
148 Five Year£ Penal Servitude. 
 
 gave us a stare and walked away again. I expect 
 a gang of convicts is no nncommon sight at Ply- 
 mouth Station. Two benevolent-looking middle- 
 aged ladies approached one of the gangs with 
 timid curious looks, which, being noticed by the 
 man who did the best part of the chaffing at 
 Paddington, he addressed them : 
 
 ' Oh, we are quite safe, marm, and taken great 
 care of,' shaking his handcuff and chain. ' Tou 
 may come quite close ; we sha'n't bite, and ain't 
 harf as savage as we look.' 
 
 Far from being encouraged by this invitation, 
 they hastened away. 
 
 Three omnibuses were ready waiting at the 
 station to take us to Princestown, on Dartmoor, 
 where the convict prison is situated. We all got 
 in and off we started, the officers riding outside 
 and on the steps. As' soon as we were a few miles 
 out of the town we got out to walk up the lulls. 
 The fresh morning air and the beautiful scenery 
 were charming after thirteen months of looking 
 on to Pentagon 3 of Millbank, with an occa- 
 sional view of Lambeth Palace and the Thames 
 on window-cleaning mornings. Our journey was 
 nearly all up hill; Princestown and the prison 
 
Dartmoor. 149 
 
 being about 1,800 feet above the level of the sea. 
 It is, I believe, the highest iahabiied town or 
 village in England, if not in the British Isles. 
 
 Princestown simply consists of the barracks 
 and houses of those connected with the prison 
 and their families, together with a few shopkeepers 
 who supply them. The place altogether is wild 
 in the extreme, in fact a howling wilderness, and 
 with the exception of the land brought into culti- 
 vation by the convict labour, produces nothing but 
 granite, heather, gorse, and fog. 
 
 Dartmoor was originally built for the safe 
 custody of prisoners of war in the old French 
 wars of the latter part of last and the commence- 
 ment of this century. Whoever first conceived 
 the idea of confining Frenchmen in such a place 
 must have been actuated by one of two very 
 opposite motives. He must have either been 
 instigated by a devilish but most refined cruelty to 
 inflict on the enemies of his country, not only the 
 punishment of man by imprisonment, but of 
 nature too, in selecting a site with such a climate 
 as Dartmoor. To a Frenchman, born in a lovely 
 climate, to be condemned to exist amid the fogs 
 and howling storms of that Devonshire wilderness 
 
150 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 must have been simply dreadful and worse than 
 death. Hundreds of them succumbed to the 
 climate, as the French burying ground now 
 attests. 
 
 The other reason that induced the founder of' 
 the place to select such a site I think must have 
 been a patriotic desire to save his native country 
 from invasion. If Frenchmen, or any other 
 foreigners, could only be led to think that the 
 climate of England was all like Dartmoor, nothing 
 would ever tempt them to invade such a country. 
 The climate of England has always possessed but 
 a bad reputation with foreigners. One year's, one 
 winter's residence at Princestown would go far to 
 convince anyone that its bad reputation was most 
 justly deserved. 
 
 Strange to say, Dartmoor is called a Convict 
 Invalid Station, and, stranger stiU, it really is a 
 healthy place though so disagreeable. Being of a 
 rheumatic constitution, I gave myself up for lost 
 when I saw the first two or three wet fogs, but 
 during the three years I spent there I never felt 
 one twinge. 
 
 I have said so much against the place, let me 
 say one thing in its favour. Though I am used to 
 
Dartmoor. 151 
 
 a mountainous country, never have I seen such 
 lovely sunrises as I have at Dartmoor. Such 
 changes of colour, and such magnificent colour as 
 would make an artist's reputation could he but 
 transfix them on his canvas. I would certainly 
 recommend some of our aspiring artists to visit 
 this place for the sunrise. Sunsets were shut out 
 from our view, and we were always indoors before 
 the sun went down. 
 
 Greatly did we all enjoy that walk, except one 
 poor fellow, who was too ill to enjoy anything and 
 had to take repeated doses of the cholera mixture 
 supplied by the Doctor before starting. 
 
 About midway on our journey, we halted at a 
 roadside public-house, and all went in to breakfast. 
 The cans of coffee and cocoa, such as had not been 
 drunk on the journey cold, were now produced 
 and made hot, and bread was served out to the 
 men all round. 
 
 After a halt of about an hour, our journey was 
 resumed, sometimes riding, and where the hills 
 are very steep, walking. At last we caught sight 
 of the gloomy-looking prison, our future home for 
 various periods. We looked out for any of the 
 working gangs, but only saw, here and there in the 
 
152 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 distance, a few. We soon, however, came upon the 
 piquets of the Civil Guard, armed with rifles and 
 bayonets, who form a cordon all round the prison 
 and each of the working gangs. Stone-quarrying, 
 turf-cutting, trenching, and agricultural cultiva- 
 tion are the outdoor work carried on here; Should 
 a man try to escape, the guards would fire on him 
 immediately. Nearly all the Civil Guard are old 
 soldiers. 
 
 Near the prison are the rifle butts, at which the 
 guards and warders practise with their rifles, so 
 as to be able to bring down a fugitive if needful. 
 It is in foggy weather some men are tempted to 
 ' try it on ' for a run, but I doubt if any ever escape ; 
 though, if arrangements could be planned with 
 outside friends to assist, it might be done easily 
 enough. There is a standing reward of £3 to any- 
 one arresting an escaped convict, so that the whole 
 country round about are always on the lookout for 
 anyone that has a prison crop. Could a man be 
 able to get his clothes changed, there possibly 
 might be some little chance, but not otherwise. 
 On foggy mornings the outside gangs of men do 
 not go out, and when the fog comes on, the guards 
 close in on the working party, and in case of the 
 
Dartmoor. 153 
 
 fog increasing, a bell is sounded from the prison, 
 and the gangs are all called in. 
 
 At last we reached the portals of the prison ; 
 a dreary, heavy-looking granite building, or series 
 of buildings, surrounded by a high wall. It is 
 placed somewhat in a hollow on the table-land of 
 Dartmoor Forest, or Wilderness. The gate is as 
 gloomy a piece of architecture as ever I saw.. 
 Dante's inscription on the gate of Inferno should 
 be incribed on it. There is some inscription, but 
 I did not get a chance of reading it. On each 
 side are the usual notice boards, warning people 
 against bringing anything into the prison. 
 
 As soon as we had all alighted at the gate, on 
 either side of which stand the Governor's and 
 Deputy-Governor's residences, we marched down 
 the outer yard into the receiving ward, where all 
 was prepared for our arrival. 
 
 The first thing was to remove the chains and 
 handcuffs, and set every man free from the 
 shackles. 
 
 We found ourselves in a long passage, about 
 twelve feet wide, lighted by a skylight, and I saw, 
 before I had been in the place ten minutes, that 
 the discipline was much stricter than at MLllbank. 
 
154 Five Yeard Penal Servitude. 
 
 The men were marched off, in squads of ten at a 
 time, to have a bath. My turn came after a while. 
 We were taken by two warders down the passage 
 and across a yard to the bathing-house, where 
 there were a number of baths, some twenty or 
 more, in a row. They were small square stone 
 baths, about four feet to four feet six inches 
 square, and three feet deep. Two steps descended 
 into them, and a wooden partition divided each 
 bath from the other. A wooden seat ran the length 
 of the whole lot of baths, and behind the seats was 
 the passage. The men sat on the seats, with 
 their backs to the passage and facing the. water, 
 to undress, while the officers paraded up and 
 down. When we had bathed we were marched 
 back, and then .dinner was served. 
 
 The first dinner was boiled mutton, each man's 
 meat being in half a pint of the liquor it was 
 boiled in, seasoned with pepper, salt, and vege- 
 tables. This was in a deep round tin can or 
 basin; and in another tin, much shallower, and 
 fitting into the top of the meat tin so as to form a 
 lid, were potatoes and cabbage. 
 
 After eating our dinner in the passage of the 
 receiving ward, we were told to take off aU our 
 
Dartmoor. 155 
 
 jackets, waistcoats, and breeches, and to place 
 them in a row on the floor, every man's suit by 
 itself, and in the same order we were then sitting. 
 Of course some men could not do as they were 
 told, but must mix up their clothes with those of 
 other prisoners, which brought the warders down 
 on them directly. When we were so far undressed 
 the whole forty were marched into a large room 
 leading out of the passage, with forms all round. A 
 large official- looking table stood in the middle, and 
 two large windows on one side looked into a yard. 
 At the end of the table, facing the door, sat the 
 chief warder, an exceedingly good-looking soldierly 
 man, whose military frock coat was decorated 
 with Crimean and Turkish medals, showing he 
 had seen service. I believe he had been sergeant- 
 major of the Queen's Bays. With his back to 
 the fireplace, behind the Chief, stood a gentleman 
 in mufti, who I needed not a second glance to see 
 was a soldier likewise. This was the Deputy- 
 Governor, as gentlemanly a little fellow as ever 
 stepped, and to whom I cannot but think the 
 duties must have been very repugnant. Except 
 when in his office, and prisoners were brought 
 before him on report, I do not think Captain A. 
 
156 Five Years' Penal Servilude. 
 
 was ever known to speak before a prisoner. He 
 never, however, let a thing escape him, and any 
 remark he had to make he made to the principal 
 warder on duty. 
 
 At the side of the table sat the Doctor, with a 
 book before him, and a bundle of papers — ^the 
 medical reports on each prisoner from the doctor 
 of Millbank. The forty men were all told to stand 
 over on the side of the room furthest from the 
 window, and there to strip. Every man did so, 
 and the whole forty were as naked as Kaffirs. 
 When a man enters a prison's walls he must leave 
 every feeling of decency, modesty, or shame out- 
 side. The Chief then left his seat and stood up 
 beside the table, while every man paraded himself 
 before him, pretty much in the same way as we 
 did on our arrival at Millbank. As they passed 
 this survey they were directed to go over to the 
 window side of the room, where were forty bundles 
 of clean clothes placed in rows. Each man helped 
 himself to a bundle, and covered his nakedness 
 as quickly as he could. By this means, as all the 
 clothes we had arrived in were left on the other 
 side of the room, there was no fear of a man 
 taking anything into the prison he might have 
 secreted about his clothes. 
 
Dartmoor. 157 
 
 The Doctor called each man before him whose 
 medical report from Millbank required him to take 
 special note of, and examined him, comparing any 
 deformity or infirmity with the written description, 
 and asking several questions. Greatly to my sur- 
 prise, he called the prisoners by their names and 
 not by numbers. 
 
 As each man had passed before the chief 
 warder, he also compared him with the written 
 description he held before him, and I noticed he 
 asked several men to point out certain marks upon 
 their bodies which were noted in their descrip- 
 tions. Two men, I noticed, had their backs ex- 
 amined. There were the evidences of former 
 floggings, or 'bashings,' as the prisoners call 
 them. The Doctor made a memorandum against 
 my name, ' tailors' shop/ which removed no little 
 anxiety from my mind. 
 
 When all were dressed, so far as flannels, 
 shirts, drawers, and stockings were concerned, we 
 were marched out, and resumed the outer clothes 
 we had arrived in, and which had aJl been most 
 carefully ' turned over ' during our absence. Every 
 pin a man had stuck in his jacket was removed. 
 
 Then came in the master-bootmaker, whom no 
 
158 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 Tiniform ever designed would have made look like 
 anything else but a regular little ' snob.' I 
 do not mean a Thaokerayean Snob, but a 
 * cobbler.' With, him came three prisoners laden 
 •with thick strong heavy hobnailed boots. Every 
 man Was fitted with new boots ; some with two 
 pairs of watertights. These were the men destined 
 for outdoor work, * the bogs,' as the places where 
 the different outside gangs worked were called. 
 ' Every man retained his shoes for Sundays, and 
 also to wear as slippers in the evening after work. 
 Then all our caps were altered. At MiUbank every 
 man wore his cap as suited him ; here all the caps 
 were turned down to the regulation pattern, and 
 securely stitched into that shape. Every man 
 who was drafted for outdoor work had an extra 
 * suit of clothes supplied to him, and a blue and red 
 stripeH canvas short jacket, reaching just below 
 the hips, and termed a ' slop.' This he wore over 
 all, and it was the only protection against either 
 cold or rain, except during the winter months, 
 when every man was supplied with a thick blue 
 Guernsey shirt. 
 
 While the boot-fitting had been going on, at 
 the other end of the passage one of the warders 
 
Dartmoor. 159 
 
 ■was operating upon the men's heads and beards. 
 I thought our hair had been cut close enough at 
 Millbank, but here cropping is a mania with all 
 the officials. As close as scissors can well cut was 
 my hair clipped by this man ; I had not a single 
 hair a quarter of an inch long. All were served 
 alike. Whenever a warder wants to worry a man 
 and has no plausible reason to report him or even 
 find fault with him, he has always one unfailing 
 source of annoyance — calling him out to have his 
 hair cut. I have known a warder call a man out 
 every night for a week to be cropped. 
 
 When all were supplied with clothes and 
 cropped to the satisfaction of the warders, we 
 were called in, a few at a time, and each man 
 received a new register number on a small card, a 
 small brush like a nail-brush, a comb, and a towel. 
 Those who required spectacles were desired to give 
 in their names to be submitted to the Doctor. 
 Each batch, as we were finished off and received 
 our register-number ticket, were marched away 
 to the respective prisons and wards we were 
 allotted to. 
 
 Just as I and four others arrived outside 
 in the yard, the warder told us to stand in a 
 
i6o Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 line against the wall. The tramp tramp of many 
 feet marching soon- told us the cause of our halt; 
 the outside gangs were returning from work. On 
 they came in long lines, two and two, each gang 
 with its officers, in military style, and keeping 
 exc^ent step and time. At the inner gate of the 
 prison stood the chief warder, book in hand. 
 Every officer saluted him as the gangs came up. 
 The principal warder in charge of each depart- 
 ment of work called out the number of men he 
 was bringing back from work and the number of 
 the gang. This the Chief checked against the 
 number taken out in the morning. Every officer, 
 as he reached the lodge at this gate, delivered up 
 his rifle, bayonet, belt, and cartridge-box to the 
 armourer, who, with his assistant, stood ready to 
 receive them. On they came, gang after gang, 
 tiU some 250 or 300 men must have passed us, 
 all looking dusty and weary. Our appearance 
 attracted notice from them all, and they knew 
 at once we were ' new chums.' 
 
 When all had arrived, the civil -guard closed 
 up the rear, marching with fixed bayonets. We 
 were then conducted into No. 4 Prison. This was 
 a large granite building, originally constructed 
 
'Dartmoor. i6i 
 
 for the French prisoners, but now adapted to 
 modern convict appliances. All the floors were 
 taken out, and galleries of cells, like Newgate, 
 were constructed one over the other in four tiers ; 
 but the place was exactly the reverse of that in" 
 the great city prison ; there the galleries went 
 all round, forming one central hall; here the 
 building was divided into two by the cells being 
 constructed back to back in the middle of the 
 building, leaving two large halls, one on each 
 side. There are about fifty cells on each landing 
 or gallery, and four landings, reached by two 
 flights of stairs, one at each end of the hall. 
 These halls are called 'A Hall 'and 'B Hall,' and 
 there is only one communication between the two, 
 on the ground floor in the middle. The whole of 
 the cells and their supports are constructed of 
 iron, the sides and doors being corrugated iron, 
 and the floors, both of cells and landings, thick 
 slate slabs* A strong' iron rail runs along each 
 landing. No prisoners were there when we 
 arrived, and I was mounted up to the top floor of 
 aU. Over the door of the cell was a proper 
 receptacle for the little card with my numeri- 
 cal register on it, 35796, into which the warder 
 M 
 
1 62 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 placed it carefully, after entering it on his ward- 
 slate. He asked me what was the number of my 
 gang. 
 
 'I don't know the number, sir; but' it is in 
 the tailors' shop.' 
 
 * All right, go in there ; and the warder of the 
 landing, Mr. Dicks, will be here soon.' 
 
 The moment the door was closed, I saw what 
 a little dark hole I was put into ; it was some few 
 minutes before I could thoroughly see anything. 
 As soon as I could, I set to work to examine my 
 future home. In size it was about as large as a 
 small second-class state room on board an emi- 
 grant ship. The cell was 7 feet long by 4 feet 
 broad, and 8 feet high ; by the side of the door 
 was a narrow window of thick rough plate glass, 
 beneath which was a small flap-table, that had to 
 be let down when the hammock was slung. Only 
 at this table, and immediately close to the 
 window, was there light enough to see anything 
 distinctly. Over the table and under the window 
 was a narrow shelf on which to place a candle. 
 Over the door, from side to side of the cell, was a 
 wooden shelf; here were kept spare boots and 
 shoes, cleaning rags, &c. Opposite to the door, 
 
Dartmoor. 163 
 
 about 5 feet 6 inches from tte ground, was another 
 and wider shelf; on this were arranged the bed 
 clothes, done up in a neat round compact roll; 
 a tin pint mug, a tin plate, a small brass 
 candlestick with a curiously contrived pair of 
 snuffers, made ingeniously out of one piece of 
 tin, a tin knife, a wooden spoon, a wooden salt- 
 cellar, and an ordinary school slate. Below this 
 shelf and at the opposite end of the ceU to the 
 window and flap-table was the hammock, neatly 
 rolled and strapped against the wall. An ordi- 
 nary wooden stable bucket, with iron handle and 
 hoops, was on the floor alongside of a low wooden 
 stool ; a small hand-broom, and, in a corner under 
 the table, a scrubbing-brush and flannel, two tin 
 tallies, with the number of the cell, prison, and 
 hall, hanging behind the door, completed the fur- 
 niture of this not over luxurious apartment. My 
 attention was next drawn to the ventilation of my 
 new abode. This was on a very primitive prin- 
 ciple. There was a gap about 5 inches deep at the 
 bottom of the door to let the air in ; the door in 
 fact was made 5 inches too short, and over the 
 shelf whereon the bedding and utensils were 
 stowed, which I always called tlie dresser, were 
 ss. 2 
 
1 64 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 some twenty round holes, an inch in diameter, to 
 let the air out. Each cell door had a spy-hole, 
 •with a cover to it. 
 
 By the time I had completed my survey, the 
 gangs came in, and a pretty clatter and noise they 
 made. In our hall were some 200 men, and as 
 many more in the next one. Clatter, clatter, up 
 the stairs they came, and as each man entered his 
 cell he slammed the door to as hard as he could, 
 as if he was spitting his spite upon it for his day's 
 labour. Then came a clatter of tins, which at 
 first I could not make out, followed by a consider- 
 able shouting between the warders below in the 
 hall and those on the landings. Presently a 
 warder came in a fury to my door : 
 
 ' Why don't you put out your broom and your 
 tins.' Then, opening the door, he said : 
 
 'Oh, you're a new hand, are you? Put out 
 your broom like that,' pointing to my next-door 
 neighbour's broom, ' and your tin mug and plate.' 
 
 While he was explaining this the Principal 
 in the hall below was shouting to him for his 
 ' roll,' the number of men he had upon his land- 
 ing. This the warder ascertained by running 
 along the landing and counting the brooms. As 
 
Dartmoor. i <; 5 
 
 soon as tlie roll is called tlie brooms should be 
 taken in. I, knowing not how long it should 
 remain out, left mine where it was ; but presently 
 a warder came by and kicked it in with such a 
 vengeance, I wonder it did not go through the 
 partition, and thanked my stars that I was out of 
 its way. I next heard a further noise of opening 
 and shutting cell doors, which came nearer and 
 nearer, till at last^ my own door was opened, and 
 a little six-ounce loaf of bread handed to me, and 
 I found my tin mug that I had put outside was 
 filled with gruel. This I took in, and sat down to 
 my first supper at Dartmoor. 
 
 After probably half or three-quarters of an 
 hour, during which all seemed very quiet, I heard 
 a great shuffling of feet, and guessed the warders 
 had returned from their tea. Both cells on each 
 side of me were tenanted. The man in one kept 
 knocking, and wanted to enter into conversation ; 
 but as I knew this was quite contrary to the rules 
 I did not answer him, and at last he got tired and 
 desisted. In the other cell I every now and then 
 heard a curious clanking noise I could not make 
 out at all. The next morning I discovered what 
 it was. My neighbour was a black dress man and 
 
1 66 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 wore fetters, a heavy chain, one end of which 
 was fastened with riveted rings round each ankle, 
 and the middle of it was held up to his waist by 
 a strap. His dress was parti-coloured black and 
 drab; one side one colour, one the other; the 
 front of one sleeve black, and the back drab, and 
 the reverse with the other sleeve. The same with 
 the breeches or knickerbockers, which were fast- 
 ened with buttons down the sides of the legs to 
 admit of their being fastened with the fetters on. 
 He was condemned to this punishment for either 
 striking or threatening an officer, and had been 
 ' bashed ' or flogged besides. Night and day, in 
 bed and out of bed, did he wear these chains, and 
 every time he moved in bed they clanked and 
 rattled; and sometimes in turning round they 
 would strike against the corrugated iron partition 
 of the cell ; not a very cheering sound to hear in 
 the dead hours of the night. 
 
 When Mr. Dicks returned from his tea, far from 
 his day's toil being over, he had plenty of work yet 
 before him. The fifty men on his landing all had 
 some wants to be attended to, but he came to look 
 after his new birds first. Dicks was a queer 
 sort of old fellow, and it all depended on how you 
 
Dartmoor. 167 
 
 took him and he took you, whether he was polite 
 or the reverse. He had served in other branches 
 of Her Majesty's services on land and sea 
 before he became a convict warder. He had 
 served and fought in the Eoyal Marines, and his 
 breast on Sundays looked gay with Crimean, 
 Turkish, Cape, and Indian medals. He had risen 
 to the rank of sergeant-major, and those of my 
 readers who know what an old sergeant-major of 
 Marines is, will very well understand that it took 
 an exceedingly clever fellow to beat to windward 
 of Mr. Warder Dicks. To hear him speak, one 
 might imagine him as innocent as a lamb, and as 
 green as a schoolboy, but just try to come the 
 hanky-panky and play the old soldier with him, 
 and there was no man in Dartmoor Prison more 
 up to every move than the old Marine. If a man 
 was straightforward, well-behaved, and gave him 
 no trouble, Dicks was the most obliging fellow 
 possible. Let him only find out a man in some 
 artful little game, and he would be ' down on' him 
 and hunt his life out almost. He came to me, 
 and I could see his quiet old eye taking stock of 
 me at once. He supplied me with soap, salt, and 
 cleaning rags. He then took my jacket to be 
 
1 68 Five Years Penal Servihtde. 
 
 badged, giving me another one to wear till it was 
 done. He gave me clean sheets, and showed me 
 where to fasten my hammock to. He told me 
 where to place each article, and supplied me with 
 a candle. Then telling nie that when I heard 
 'beds down' called out, I must prepare my ham- 
 mock for the night, and must not do it till then, 
 and warning me that I had two ' rum 'uns ' along- 
 side of me, he left me to go to someone else. 
 
 I had nothing to read, and could only sit and 
 listen to the noises going on, conjecturing what ' 
 they could be. The entire block of 400 cells 
 being all framed in iron there was hardly a door 
 slammed to in the whole building that did not 
 more or less vibrate throughout every cell. The 
 effect when every cell door in the whole^hall was 
 slammed to at once, as they were on certain 
 occasions, such as school nights, was like a volley 
 of musketry. 
 
 At last the signal 'beds down' was given, 
 and 400 hammocks were let go at once, or nearly 
 so, shaking the whole fabric. I being an old 
 hand at hammock-bed making had no difficulty, 
 but some men on their first acquaintance with 
 these comfortable resting places make a great 
 
Dartmoor. 1 69 
 
 muddle till they get accustomed to them. 
 Sometimes a hammock strap would carry away 
 and let the man down on the ground, but that 
 was his own fault for not looting well to the 
 state his straps were in. The warders would 
 always give a man a good strap if one of his was 
 worn out. 
 
 There is one luxury a convict certainly has, and 
 that is a good comfortable warm bed, and after a 
 day on the bogs of Dartmoor he needs it. There 
 is no bed in a hammock, but a man has two good 
 blankets (three in winter), a capital rag, and two 
 stout coarse linen sheets, with a wool or hair 
 pillow. A great many of the prisoners never 
 slept in such good beds when free men. Men 
 have told me repeatedly, especially men from 
 agricultural districts, that they were better fed 
 and had better beds in prison than ever they had 
 in their lives before. 
 
 Soon after ' beds down ' is sounded a warder is 
 heard coming up the stairs, and he expects to find 
 every candle put out. There are gas lights along 
 each landing railing, so that there is more or less 
 light in every cell according to its position with 
 respect to the nearest gas burner. A bell is then 
 
1 70 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 heard, which is the signal for all the 'day warders' 
 to leave the prison, *s the ' night warders ' have 
 come on duty. Every man is now expected to be in 
 bed, and if the night watch finds a man out of 
 bed he is liable to be reported. At regular ia- 
 tervals throughout the night, the night watch 
 comes round, looking into every cell. By placing 
 the bull's-eye of his lantern against the glass of 
 the window, and peeping through the spy-hole in 
 the door, he can see very well if a man is in bed 
 or not, asleep or awake. Many a time have I 
 been woke up with the sudden flash of the buU's- 
 eye in my face. 
 
 At 5.30 the great bell of the prison rings for 
 two minutes, when every man springs from his 
 hammock; and by the time he has given himself a 
 good wash in his bucket, all over if he likes, the 
 warders are on their landings. 
 
 On each landing the men take it in turns to 
 be orderlies for a week. There are four appointed 
 to assist the warders in carrying up the bread 
 baskets, cocoa, tea, and gruel cans, the dinners, 
 and all other things required. The warder, on 
 reaching his landing, lets out two of the orderlies 
 from their cells. 
 
Dartmoor. 171 
 
 On. his door being opened every man goes 
 down on Hs hands and knees and scrubs and 
 cleans so much of the slate floor of the landing 
 as is in fltont of his own cell. Thus the whole 
 landing is done. He then puts his tin mug and 
 plate outside his door, and proceeds to clean 
 the floor of his cell and put up his bedding in a 
 certain way. 
 
 The hammock remains slung as when slept 
 in, but the sheets, rug, and blankets are folded 
 in a particular manner and neatly laid across 
 the hammock in regular rotation, hanging over 
 it. The whole bedding is thus open for inspec- 
 tion. In this way it is left till the man comes 
 in to dinner, when it is carefully and neatly 
 rolled up : a sheet in the centre; then a* blanket; 
 then the other sheet; then the remaining blan- 
 kets; and outside, the red, brown, and yellow 
 rug. The roll is placed on the dresser shelf 
 with a neat, smooth edge outwards, that some- 
 what resembles a target, the rings being of dif- 
 ferent colours and the white sheet making a 
 very fair bull's-eye. The end of the hammock 
 next the window is then unstrapped and let go, 
 and, with the piUow placed in the centre, is tightly 
 
172 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 rolled up. The straps belonging to the foot end, 
 joined together, are long enough to go round it 
 and through the head fastening, by which it is 
 firmly and neatly strapped up against the end 
 wall of the cell. 
 
 If a man wants to speak to the warder for 
 anything : to put his name down to see the Doctor, 
 Governor, Chief Warder, or Chaplain, or to leave 
 his cell to go to the closet, he puts out his broom 
 under the door. 
 
 Breakfast is served, consisting of three-quarters 
 of a pint of very fair cocoa, and a loaf of 9 or 12 
 oimces of bread, according as a man is on half 
 or full diet. During the morning, before breakfast, 
 the warders let the men out two or three at a time 
 to take their buckets to empty, scrub out, and fill 
 with clean water. If a man is quiet, well-behaved, 
 and gives no trouble, some of the warders will 
 allow him to empty and refill his bucket twice in 
 the day ; but once is the strict rule. 
 
 On the prisoners' breakfast being served, the 
 warders go to their own. All the warders have 
 their breakfasts and teas in the prison, and there 
 are mess-rooms provided for them. The married 
 officers go outside to their own homes in the 
 
Dartmoor. 173 
 
 barracks or cottages at Princestown to dinner, but 
 the single men take all tbeir meals in tlie officers' 
 mess-room in tbe prison. The officers all have 
 the privilege of purchasing certain supplies at the 
 contract prices from the steward of the prison. 
 
 By the time breakfast is over it is half-past 
 seven o'clock in summer. On the return of the 
 officers the men are marched to morning prayers. 
 There are two chapels at Dartmoor, one for. Pro- 
 testants and one for Catholics. All the Catholics 
 are kept in No. 2 Prison by themselves, and, except 
 at their work, never mix with the Protestants. 
 The Protestant chapel is a large square building, 
 plainly but appropriately fitted up ; at one end is 
 the communion-table, pulpit, and reading-desk; 
 at the opposite end is a gallery for the Governor 
 and officers' families. The Chief Warder has an 
 elevated pew to himself halfway up the chapel, 
 against the south wall. There are three more of 
 these elevated pews, in which principals take 
 their positions. Intermixed with the forms on 
 which the prisoners sit are raised seats, oh which 
 warders are perched, so as to enable them to have 
 a commanding view of the men. In front of the 
 pulpit and reading-desk those prisoners who are 
 
1 74 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 members of the choir are seated, and near them 
 is a harmonium, very fairly played by one of the 
 schoolmasters. Under the gallery the civil guard 
 are drawn up, with their loaded rifles, and their 
 captain at their head. A few prayers, a hymn, 
 and a short exposition comprise the service, and 
 as soon as it is finished one half the civil guard 
 march out to take their station in the yard, and 
 the other half remain in the chapel till all the 
 prisoners have marched out, when they briug up 
 the rear. 
 
 The men had marched into chapel in wards or 
 landings, and so they marched out ; but on reach- 
 ing the yard they break off, and every man goes to 
 the station of his gang. A large number painted 
 on the parade ground wall indicates the muster 
 place of every gang. All the new men, including 
 myself, were directed where to join our respective 
 gangs, and were handed over to the officer of the 
 gang. A warder's work-duty with his gang is 
 perfectly distinct from his ward-duty inside the 
 prison, and brings him into contact with quite a 
 different lot of men, though of course some of the 
 men may be both in their landing and in their gang 
 in charge of the same warder. On the parade every 
 
Dartmoor. 175 
 
 man is searclied — ' rubbed down ' it is called. He 
 unbuttons bis jacket, -waistcoat, and slop, if be 
 wears one, takes off bis cap, wbicb be bolds in one 
 band, and bis pocket-bandkercbief out of bis one, 
 pocket, wbicb be bolds in tbe otber. Tbe warder, 
 or assistant warder, tben feels bim down to see be 
 bas notbing contraband upon bim. No man is 
 allowed to bring any food out of bis cell on any 
 pretence. Wbat be does not eat be must return 
 in bis dinner tins. Wbile tbe assistants are rub- 
 bing tbe men down, tbe warder counts bis men, 
 and if be bas time to spare rubs some of tbem 
 down bimself. Tbe principal of tbe week, wbose 
 duty it is, tben comes and counts eacb gang, and 
 if bis tally and tbe warder's agree, tbe number is 
 booked by botb ; if not, tbey botb count again. 
 Tbe principal takes all tbe numbers of eacb gang 
 to tbe Cbief Warder, wbo enters tbem in bis book. 
 Wbile all tbis is going on tbe men stand to atten- 
 tion, and tbe Deputy Governor, Capt, A, and 
 sometimes tbe Governor bimself, Capt. B, walks 
 up and down, giving an inspecting eye aU round. 
 
 Wben tbe cbief bas received all tbe returns of 
 tbe nuiubers in eacb gang, also from tbe infirmary, 
 and from ' No. 5,' tbe punisbment cells, and entered 
 
1 76 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 them in his book, he adds up the total ; and if it 
 agrees with the number known to be in the prison, 
 the word is given for the gangs to march off. The 
 outside gangs go first, the red-collar men who 
 attend to the farm leading off. These are generally 
 old men who have a knowledge of horses, cows, and 
 farm . life. They are dressed in blue, with red 
 cuffs and coUars, -and are considered a privileged 
 gang. 
 
 Dartmoor privileges are very questionable. For 
 instance, one of the privileges of this red-collar 
 gang is that they go out to feed the horses and 
 cows before breakfast, and they are the only gang, 
 except hospital orderlies and one-third of the 
 cooks, that have any work to do on Sundays. 
 
 After them march the quarrymen, who labour 
 in the granite quarries; the turf-cutters, road- 
 makers, and bogmen generally ; and then old Mr. 
 Dicks' gang, who go about the place emptying the 
 latrines both in the prison and in the town out- 
 side, and carrying their loads on to the land, 
 where it is utilised by the gardening and agri- 
 cultural gangs. 
 
 The gardeners really are a privileged gang, and 
 generally consist^f well-conducted men who are 
 
Dartmoor, 177 
 
 doing tlie last twelve or six months of their time. 
 A large amount of very fine vegetables are grown 
 here, the best of which are sent to market. 
 
 There was also the laundry gang ; for, there 
 being no women at Dartmoor, all the prisoners' 
 clothes were washed by prisoners, and a strong 
 gang it was. One of the best warders in the 
 whole establishment had charge of it, and though 
 a very different man in appearance, he always 
 reminded me of Paddy at Millbank, by the care 
 he took of his men. He was liked very generally, 
 and many a man schemed to get into little Welsh's 
 gang. 
 
 Another ' soap-suds ' gang followed them— the 
 cleaners, who kept all the prison halls, the long 
 stone passages, and chapel floors clean. Their 
 warder was just the reverse of Mr. Welsh, and 
 was such a tyrannical old fidget that his men were 
 always begging the chief warder to remove them 
 into some other gang. Shortly the reader will 
 learn how I fell foul of this man, and, on appeal to 
 higher authorities, got the better of him. 
 
 Then follow the artisan gangs — blacksmiths, 
 masons or stone-cutters, and carpenters. In the 
 
 N 
 
1 78 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 carpenter's gang are also the painters, glaziers, 
 tinworkers, and a few others. 
 
 The shoemakers come next, two very strong 
 gangs. A great deal of work is done here by these 
 men. All the hoots for the Metropolitan Police 
 are made by the convicts at Dartmoor, as well as 
 for the various convict prisons. With the shoe- 
 makers are the saddlers and harness-makers. 
 
 Next comes the tailors' gang, with whom are 
 incorporated the bookbinder and school orderly. 
 
 The last gang is that of the oakum-pickers and 
 stocking-knitters. The cooks and bakers do not 
 parade with the other gangs outside, nor do the 
 hospital orderlies. 
 
 The artisan and outside gangs march off to 
 their work at once ; some of the latter have two 
 miles to march to get there. 
 
 As each gang goes out the warders take their 
 firearms, and a certain number of civil guards are 
 told off to attend to them, while the rest of the 
 guards go on picket duty. 
 
 The parade ground is now left at liberty for 
 the indoor gangs— shoemakers, tailors, and oakum, 
 men, who fall in two and two and have half-an- 
 hour's exercise before going to their work. Now 
 
Dartmoor. 179 
 
 it is tliat conversation, is permitted, and at these 
 exercise parades and on Sundays I have heard 
 many a history from prisoners, some of which I 
 will give to the reader in the course of this narrative. 
 Some warders take a special delight in preventing^ 
 two decent men from getting together, and seem 
 to glory in placing beside a well-educated man, 
 whom they call a 'gentleman lag,' some coarse 
 foul-mouthed brute, whose every fourth word is 
 either an oath or disgusting obscenity. 
 
 As the men fall in on their arrival at the 
 parade so they must walk. The object with two 
 men who wish to get together is to arrive at the 
 gang close after each other, so that one takes front 
 and the other rear file. By a little scheming this 
 can generally be done, either by hurrying on or 
 waiting behind, as the case may be, whether there 
 is a blank file to fill up or not. There are many 
 little ' dodges ' men have for this purpose, espe- 
 cially for 'playing the waiting game.' A man 
 can drop his handkerchief, or his boot-lace may 
 require attention at the moment, but the warders 
 are up to aU these games, and, if they notice a 
 man doing this, will be down on him at once. 
 Many a time when I was in the tailors' gang has 
 N 2 
 
i8o Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 the warder, a wretclied man named Witlierby, 
 quietly and maliciously upset the whole arrange- 
 ments of the gang as to their walking mates. It 
 frequently happens that there is an odd file in the 
 company, i.e. there may be fifty men in the front 
 rank and only forty-nine in the rear. If Mr. 
 Witherby, on looking down the ranks saw there 
 were several pairs who had been fortunate enough 
 to ' hit it to rights,' and had got exactly into the 
 order for walking they wished for, he would, instead 
 of giving the order ' By the right march,' call out 
 ' By the left march.' Then, of course, the gang 
 would be led by one odd file, which would not do 
 at all ; so the order would immediately be given, 
 ' Close up the files there, close up in front,' to obey 
 which every rear file would have to advance to the 
 vacant place in front of him, and so the whole gang 
 would find themselves walking either befpre or 
 behind the ' chum' he. wanted to be with. 
 
 Sometimes the men would ' ring the changes,' 
 and so get to the place they wanted, but this was 
 very dangerous. A man once did that with me. 
 He wanted particularly to have some conversation 
 with me, and he, not I, 'rung the change,' or 
 slipped away from the man he was with and came 
 
Dartmoor. 1 8 1 
 
 to me, wliile tlie man who was ■walking at my side 
 ■went into tlie other's place. After we had walked 
 round the parade two or three times, Witherhy 
 noticed ib, and insisted that I had changed my 
 place. He had long wished for a good chance to 
 report me, and he did so. I lost forty-eight marks, 
 which I afterwards had restored to me. What I 
 did when I was reported I will teU further on, 
 when I come to another occasion of my being 
 brought before the Governor. 
 
 After our exercise this first morning, at which 
 I was paired off with an elderly man named Pem- 
 berton, we left the parade ground and went 
 upstairs to the top of No. 3 Prison, into a large 
 loft in the roof, where the ' tailors' shop " was, in 
 those days. No. 3 Prison is not divided into cells, 
 but consists of three floors, two of ' association 
 rooms,' which I will fully describe when I come 
 to relate my being removed from the cells to one 
 of them, and the top floor the 'tailors' shop.' 
 Since then, and during my residence there, a new 
 tailors' shop has been constructed, and all three 
 floors of No. 3 are made association rooms. 
 
 On arrival in the shop the men paraded and 
 stood up in line two deep, while Warder Witherby 
 
1 82 Five Year s^ Penal Servitude. 
 
 and the principal of No. 3 counted them. No 
 one had flown away : all were there. 
 
 * Break off to your work,' and every man went 
 to his place, and from various holes and comers, 
 off shelves, from under forms and stools, each one 
 found his bag containing his work — materials and 
 tools. During the little confusion caused by this, 
 Witherby marched me and three others — the two 
 parsons and a big Irishman — to the further end of 
 the workshop, where was the master-tailor's cutting- 
 room, and there we waited while he went in to 
 report our arrival. 
 
 The master-tailor was a peppery little man, 
 but a good-hearted one, very fond of 'blowing 
 up,' and never liked to be contradicted. He was 
 generally as much liked as Witherby was detested, 
 and was always called ' Jemmy,' what for I never 
 could discover, as his name was not James. 
 
 He asked me if I was a ' tradesman,' and on 
 my replying, 'No, sir, I have only worked at 
 tailoring since I was in MHlbank,' he ordered me 
 into the repairing squad. The assistant warder 
 found me a seat in what was called a 'bay,' 
 three sides of a square fitted with three forms, 
 having the open vacant side towards the middle 
 
Dartmoor. 183 
 
 of tlie room. Adjoining the master tailor's cut- 
 ting room were two other small rooms, constructed 
 of rough boards, and old window frames for glass 
 partitions. One on the l^ft hand was the book- 
 binders' workshop, and that on the right the 
 school orderly's bench, where he covered all the 
 library books and ticketed them, ruled copybooks, 
 and did all manner of odd jobs for the school- 
 masters. One duty of the school orderly was to 
 dust the two • chapels. He wore a knickerbocker 
 suit of blue cloth. 
 
 The workshop was in the roof storey of the 
 building, and the sides- of the room were not so 
 high as the middle in consequence of the roof 
 slanting. There were a row of upright posts, at 
 intervals of about ten or twelve feet, all down each 
 side of the long room, every post supporting a 
 beam carrying the roof. The spaces between the 
 posts and under the slanting roof were called 
 ' bays.' In the centre, between the bays, at the 
 end near to the master-tailor's room, sat the best 
 workmen, on what was called the 'board,' but 
 was merely the floor of the room kept at that part 
 specially for them. These were mostly men who 
 were tailors by trade outside, and some few of 
 
184 Five Years Fecial Servitude. 
 
 the best hands, who had been so long in prison 
 they had learned to become good workmen. About 
 half-way down the room, and in the middle, was 
 a stove set in brickwork, where the irons, or 
 geese, were heated for the men to press their 
 work. Beyond this stove was a similar space to 
 the board, where sometimes the stocking-knitters 
 would come up and work, if there was nothing 
 else the space was required for, such as serving 
 out and marking blankets, sheets, rugs, and aU 
 large things, .with the ' Broad Arrow.' Every- 
 thing is branded with this sign. Every sheet, 
 blanket, and rug has eight of "these broad 
 arrows, or crow's feet, stamped upon them with 
 red or black paint. 
 
 The bays were all allotted to dififerent work. 
 Following the side on the left, the next bay to the 
 bookbinders' shop was occupied by a man cutting 
 out prison clothes — jackets, vests, knickerbockers, 
 shirts, flannels, and everything a prisoner wears. 
 The next two bays accommodated niae men each, 
 who mended prison shirts, flannels, sheets, blankets, 
 &c. The next was occupied by a prisoner with a 
 stiff leg, who gave out the work to the menders in 
 the adjoining two bays. 
 
Dartmoor. 185 
 
 At the early part of the week all the clean 
 shirts, flannels, stockings, etc. that require mend- 
 ing are brought up into the tailors' shop to the 
 stiff-legged prisoner's bay. He looks them over, 
 and those that are worn out and too bad for mend- 
 ing he condemns. The others he gives out to the 
 men in the two bays on his right hand who repair 
 them. Old ones are torn up ; the best parts are 
 saved and put on one side to make patches for 
 repairing others with, and the bad and ragged 
 parts are sent into the various prisons for cleaning 
 rags and dusters. At certain times sheets, blankets, 
 rugs, etc. come .up to undergo a similar process. 
 No prisoner need have a ragged blanket, sheet, or 
 rug, as they are changed whenever necessary. 
 Some two or three men in the sheet-mending bays 
 are employed darning stockings. When aU the 
 shirts, flannels, etc. are repaired, these men are 
 then employed in making new ones. There is 
 always plenty of work for them, and each man at 
 the close of the day brings in his work to the table, 
 where it is examined by Larry, as the stiff-legged 
 man was called. Any article not properly done is 
 returned to the prisoner to do again. Witherby 
 stands by and books on his slate the number of 
 
1 86 Five Years' Penal Servitude. ' 
 
 articles each, man repairs. If lie does not do suffi- 
 cient, Mr. Witherby soon jBnds fault with him, and 
 sometimes will not give a man his full complement 
 of marts. One man specially attends to the * goose 
 oven,' makes up the fire, and takes hot irons to 
 such men as require them, taking away their cold 
 irons to be replaced in the oven. The sqnabblings 
 and contentions that go on about the hot irons all 
 day long are sometimes most amusing. When I 
 first went there, a little red- headed ' professional 
 thief,' known as Garibaldi, had the 'stove,' as 
 his office was called. He was a Romanist, and 
 always gave his fellow Catholics a preference before 
 others in his supplies, which caused no end of 
 contention. 
 
 On the opposite or right-hand side of the room, 
 the next bay to the school orderly's was occupied 
 by sewing machines, and the next one to that by 
 tailors, who did prison work, repairing cloth clothes 
 and slops, and making up new ones. Always one, 
 and sometimes two men were employed ' badging' 
 the jackets. I have already explained that every 
 man wears a certain badge and facings on his jacket^ 
 to denote the class he belongs to. In a large prison 
 like Dartmoor, there are always some changing 
 
Dartmoor. 187 
 
 their class in a regular legitimate way, by ending 
 one year's imprisonment and beginning another. 
 There are also always a great many reports, and 
 mostly when a man is reported, as I explained 
 before, a part of his punishtoent consists of losing 
 his class for a certain period. This loss, and sub- 
 sequent regain of class, entails the necessity of the 
 man's jacket being rebadged twice. 
 
 The next bay to the two occupied by the prison 
 tailors, and immediately opposite to Larry's bay, 
 . was appropriated by the man who superintended all 
 the repairs of the prisoners' cloth clothes, as Larry 
 did of their under-garments. He also arranged all 
 the badging, cutting-out, and stamping the badges. 
 A badge is a piece of cloth, cut into a round 
 three inches in diameter, of a suitable colour to 
 the class of the man. On this is stamped the 
 letters ' P.S.', penal servitude, at the top, below 
 that the man's register number (29830), which 
 comes across the middle, and below the register 
 his sentence (5) in figures. There was one sen- 
 tence which was denoted without any figures, by 
 the simple letter ' L,' life. 
 
1 88 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 The facings consist of nothing for probation, three 
 inches of black or yellow cloth one inch wide on 
 each side of the neck and across the upper part of 
 the sleeve at the cuff for 3rd and 2nd class, and a 
 blue stripe one inch wide all round the collar and 
 cuffs for 1st class. 
 
 The holder of this appointment when I arrived 
 there was known as ' Gentleman Jem.' He had 
 been a turf man, and I believe was well up in 
 the three-card trick: a thin, sickly, cadaverous- 
 looking young man. His duties were multi- 
 farious ; but, as I myself in _ time filled his office, 
 I will leave a description of them till I come to 
 my appointment. Before I left that tailors' shop 
 for a much better appointment I. filled no less 
 than four different offices. I had Larry's shirt 
 table, the prison cutting bench — as the bay next 
 the bookbinders' shop was called, the stove to heat 
 the irons, and the prison clothing table. 
 
 There were, in addition to all I have enume- 
 rated, two old sailors employed in making and 
 repairing hammocks. On au average there were 
 100 men in the tailors' gang — sometimes 120, and 
 there was a very considerable amount of work 
 done by them. When the ' old women,' as the 
 
Dartmoor. 189 
 
 stocking-knitting gang were called, came to work 
 there they brought their own assistant warder 
 with them, but Witherby took charge of the room 
 and both gangs. Little Jemmy, the master- tailor, 
 was a principal warder, as was also the master- 
 shoemaker, and they were each ' Boss ' over their 
 own shops. Several times during the day the 
 inside principal of the week would come in. 
 Witherby immediately saluted, and reported the 
 number of men under his charge. This was 
 repeated as often as he or any superior officer 
 entered the shop; At the same end of the room 
 as the door, standing at the t6p of the staircasCj 
 was the latrine, near the entrance of which 
 stood an assistant warder, who searched every 
 man before going in. 
 
 The men at work are supposed not to talk, but 
 a very great deal of conversation in a low tone 
 does go on, and so long as a man does not neglect 
 his work, and it is done in moderation, the ofl&cers 
 seldom take much notice of it, unless they are in 
 a bad humour. Sometimes Witherby would say, 
 ' Now then, not so much talking there,' or, ad- 
 dressing a man individually, ' Just you drop that 
 chattering, will you ; you have had a pretty good 
 
1 90 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 spell of it now, so get on with your work.' He 
 was a man in wretched health, which at times 
 made him more morose than usual ; and I heard 
 from those who were in gangs working at the 
 barracks that his wife and children were the very 
 dirtiest in all Princestown. I do not think the 
 man was comfortable at home ; his looks told it. 
 It was said that, time after time, when he went 
 home, no dinner was ready for him. When the 
 beU rang, go he must, whether he had dined or 
 not. If such was really the case, no wonder he 
 was the morose man he was. He was never 
 known really to smile. Once, I remember, the 
 chief warder was passing through the shop just 
 previous to his leaving the convict service, nearly 
 two years after I had been there. He had been 
 appointed Governor of the Gaol at Barbadoes, and 
 it was known to the prisoners he was going. He 
 was in the habit of walking through the shop two 
 or three times a week, and this day a regular old 
 reprobate named Smith, who was just completing 
 his third ' lagging,' and was to be discharged in a 
 week or two, addressed him : 
 
 ' So I hear, sir, you are made Governor of the 
 West Indies. I suppose you will require a 
 
Dartmoor. 191 
 
 secretary and a walet de sham. I'm just agoing 
 to lose my situvation here, on the fourteenth. 
 I've given notice to leave ; wouldn't I suit you ? ' 
 
 'I am afraid, my man, your character from 
 your last place will hardly suit. You're too 
 clever a long way for me.' 
 
 ' Oh, but, sir, I am sure I could please you ; I 
 should soon kaow your ways.' 
 
 ' I've known your ways, Smith, a long time ; 
 know too much of them by far.' 
 
 A laugh went round the shop, and Witherby 
 tried his best to pay his chief the compliment 
 of' laughing too, but it was no use, he failed 
 ignominiously. He got as far as a hideous grin, 
 and there he stopped ; it was not in him to get 
 further. That little incident was impressed upon 
 my mind, for the next time I saw the chief was 
 as I was about to pass him on the parade ground, 
 coming out of chapel. He told me to 'halt,' 
 asked me if I did not understand accounts — could 
 I correspond — did I understand calculations ? 
 
 ' Yes, sir, I understand them all.' 
 
 That day I received the best appointment 
 given to a prisoner, and the week following the 
 chief had bid farewell to Dartmoor to take up his 
 new position in Barbadoes. 
 
192 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 But I am pushing on fast — too fast ; for I am 
 narrating events two years ahead, and have not 
 yet completed my first day in the tailors' shop. 
 
 No sooner had I taken my allotted seat in the 
 Tiay next to Gentleman Jem's than I was asked 
 where I was from. ' Millfcank.' Had I seen so 
 and so, and that man, neither of whom I knew 
 from Adam. I was located between a Welshman 
 convicted or ' lagged ' for passing ' shise coin' — 
 bad money — and a young fellow who had com- 
 menced life as a Liverpool street Arab, and, after 
 ' cadging ' about there till he got into trouble 
 several times, had five years in a reformatory. He 
 had done abont four years more in short sentences, 
 varying from one month to one year, and was now 
 in for seven years for robbing a captain of a ship 
 ■when drunk. Both of these soon found out I was 
 not at all one of their ' kidney,' but they treated 
 me very well, and I learned a good deal of the 
 various prison dodges and manoeuvres from them. 
 
 A little before twelve o'clock the word was 
 given by the warder, 'Throw down your tools,' 
 ' Collect the scissors.' Instantly every man put 
 down his work where he was sitting on the floor 
 or form. One man in each bay collected the 
 
Dartmoor. 1 93 
 
 scissors, and as the warder came round, handed 
 them to him. He counted them to see all were 
 there, according to the number booked in the 
 morning as having been issued. When these were 
 found correct, they were carried into Jemmy's room. 
 All the irons had been collected and placed in the 
 stove, and the fire banked up. 
 
 ' Fall in, men.' 
 
 The men now fell into their places, but not in the 
 order they had marched up from the parade-ground 
 in the morning. Those located in No. 2 Prison 
 fell in on the left ; next to them those belonging 
 to No. 4 Prison ; and on the right the men living 
 in the Association Rooms of No. 3. 
 
 ' Front rank : two paces forward, m — arch ! ' 
 
 Witherby then proceeded to ' search ' or ' rub 
 down ' the men of the front rank, and the assistant 
 warder the rear rank. 
 
 By the time all were searched, the bell for 
 dinner rang out loudly. 
 
 ' To the right face — march ! The men of No. 3 
 will go into their wards as they go downstairs. 
 Steady there, no. crowding,' is Warder Witherby's 
 order. The assi^ant-warder leads the way, and 
 off the men march to their respective prisons 
 
 
 
194 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 and halls. Here we found the other gangs coming 
 in, and the stairs were crowded with men hurry- 
 ing to their cells. Immediately on a man getting 
 inside his cell out went his broom. The warders 
 take the roll, and each in turn calls out the number 
 of his men to the principal in the hall below. 
 This being all right the principal shouts — • 
 ' Dinner orderlies.' 
 
 The warders then open the doors of those four 
 m6n who are the orderlies for the week. One goes 
 at once to the sink where there is a can of water 
 ready waiting. The three others run downstairs. 
 A principal stands beside four large baskets of. 
 bread and eight wooden boxes or trays, full of the 
 dinner tins. One orderly, on a signal from the 
 officer, seizes a basket of bread. The principal 
 shouts out, ' No. 4. One man with bread.' Old 
 Dicks is looking over the railing and replies, 
 ' One man, sir.' He keeps a sharp eye on that man 
 to see he does not ' filch ' a ' sixer,' as the six- 
 ounce loaf, served with the dinner, is called. 
 
 So Numbers 3, 2, and 1 landings get their 
 bread in like manner. Then follow the other two 
 orderlies with one of the trays, which they place 
 on the landing, and go down for the other one. 
 
Dartmoor. 1 95 
 
 While this is going on the assistant-warder has 
 been opening the cell doors, and as each man 
 holds out his pint pot the man with the can fills 
 it, and the warder hands in a six-ounce loaf of 
 bread to the man, from the basket carried by the 
 other orderly. By the time the bread and water 
 are served the trays with the dinners are both up, 
 and the men who have been carrying the can and 
 basket seize hold of one tray, and the other two 
 of the second. Dicks goes with one lot and the 
 assistant with the other, and every man's dinner 
 is handed into him. 
 
 Now there is an hour, in which a man gets his 
 dinner, rolls up his bedding, which the reader will 
 remember he left hanging over the hammock in 
 the morning, and puts it on the dresser shelf, 
 unfastens his hammock, rolls that up too, and 
 straps it tightly to the waU of the cell. _Then, if 
 he is a reader, he sits down with his books ; if he is 
 not a reader, he either goes to sleep or walks up 
 and down his cell to the annoyance of the man 
 below him most likely, or beats a devil's tattoo on 
 the wall or table, to the equal annoyance of the 
 men on each side of him. When I arrived in my 
 cell the first day I found a Bible and Prayer-book 
 o 2 
 
196 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 with hymns, a Nuttall's dictionary, and the ' Swiss 
 Family Eobinson '; also two tracts, and a long stick 
 of slate pencil. 
 
 It is during the dinner hour that the doctor 
 goes his rounds, calling at the cells only of those 
 men who have put their names down. It is the 
 time also that the Governor tries those men who 
 are brought before him on ' reports ' by the warders 
 for misconduct, and also gives audience to such 
 men as wish to see him to make any request, and 
 have put their names down in the morning for 
 that purpose. The Chaplain also holds a similar 
 levee. One great inconvenience of an interview 
 with the Governor is, that you stand a good chance, 
 if not of losing your dinner, certainly of not having 
 time to eat it, for very shortly after the dinners 
 are served an assistant-warder comes round and 
 collects all those men who are to see either the 
 Governor or the Chaplain, and he rarely gets 
 back with them many minutes before the dinner 
 hour is over, and all go out to work again. 
 
 The visit of the Doctor is in many, aye, most 
 cases, nothing but a brutal farce. The Doctor, the 
 apothecary, and a hospital orderly carrying a tray 
 with a few bottles of medicines, and a hospital 
 
Dartmoor. 197 
 
 warder come round, attended by the principal of 
 the prison on duty. The cell door is opened ; the 
 prisoner stands at the door and salutes the medico, 
 who does not trouble to ask what is the matter : 
 the man tells or shows what it is. 
 
 ' I've sprained my wrist, sir,' or my leg, what- 
 ever it may be. 
 
 Doctor looks at it. 
 
 ' Give him some liniment.' 
 
 ' Hold your hand,' shouts apothecary. 
 
 The man holds it out, and it is filled with some 
 stuff — hartshorn and oil, or opodeldoc. The door 
 is slammed to, and there stands the man, his 
 dinner half finished, and his hand full of some 
 filthy smelKng stuff, to make the best use of he 
 can. 
 
 Perhaps instead of a sprain it is a sore. 
 
 ' Grive him some ointment.' 
 
 ' Hold something to put it in,' shouts the apo- 
 thecary. The man turns round to find something ; 
 apothecary cannot wait; so with his spatula he 
 puts a dab of ointment on to the side of his plate 
 where his dinner is. This actually happened to 
 me ; I never used my plate for dinner after that, 
 but always ate it out of the tin it came in. 
 
198 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Men are given pills or castor oil, whioli they 
 have to swallow there and then in the middle of 
 their dinner. Fancy getting np in the middle of 
 eating fat boiled mutton to take a dose of castor 
 oU ! If necessary, of course, a man was ordered 
 to the infirmary. There, I believe, the Doctor was 
 pretty kind to the men. Thank God, I never had 
 occasion to test his kindness there ! He was 
 moved from Dartmoor to Pentonville, and I hear 
 he is now dead; but if ever a man was misplaced 
 he was — a round peg in a square hole. Instead 
 of being appointed to a convict hospital, he should 
 have been gazetted to a cavalry regiment as its 
 * vet.' The fate of the apothecary I will tell of 
 shortly. 
 
 After dinner the warders return, the orderlies 
 are called out, and the dinner tins are collected. 
 Some men do not eat all their allowance, and 
 return what they do not require in their tins. 
 Others, again, would eat the rations of the whole 
 landing if they had the chance. Sometimes these 
 hungry ones will make a dart at a half loaf or a 
 spare potato. If the warder sees him, the chances 
 are ten to one he is reported — has three days' 
 ' solitary,' with only bread and water, and loses a 
 
Dartmoor. 199 
 
 number of marks. I hare seen Old Dicks more 
 tlian once purposely turn his head away as we 
 have approached a cell when I have been orderly 
 and collecting tins. He knew what poor hungry 
 devil was there — what he did not see he could not 
 report. The man put out his tins, and almost 
 before 1 could see him do it, the spare pieces, not 
 from one tin only but from several, disappeared, 
 and his cell door was closed. If he took too much. 
 Old Dicks would mutter to himself in a half- 
 audible tone, ' Greedy beggar ; I shall look sharp 
 after him next time.' That man did not get a 
 chance for a long while of doing it again. 
 
 The trays and baskets are carried down by the 
 orderlies to the hall below for the cooks to take 
 away afterwards, they having brought them in a 
 little hand-cart from the kitchens. If a man is 
 discontented with his dinner, and thinks he has 
 not got his quantity, he appeals to the warder. 
 The ofiBcer takes him to the cook-house, when the 
 dinner is weighed; if deficient, the quantity is 
 made up ; if it is all right, the man is reported 
 and punished for giving unnecessary trouble. 
 Some men do not care about being reported ; they 
 know they either have lost or will lose all their 
 
200 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 remission, and will have to serve their whole time. 
 They therefore get callous, and will frequently 
 complain about their dinner or the weight of their 
 bread, for the sole purpose of annoying a warder 
 and keeping him so long from his dinner, by com- 
 pelling him to go with him to the cook-house. 
 
 When all is ready, the men go out to their 
 work, mustering first of all on the parade ground, 
 as in the morning. Shortly after four, scissors 
 were collected, and the work knocked off, every 
 man putting his work carefully away. Before 
 the men left their seats, Witherby called out the 
 names of four men, and told them to ' sweep.' 
 They immediately rushed to the latrine and got ^ 
 three brooms and a watering pot. The others in* 
 the meantime had fallen in and marched off to the 
 exercise ground. The assistant-warder remains 
 with the four sweepers. After watering the floor, 
 it is carefully swept, and all the pieces of cloth, 
 flannel, calico, and other materials, the ' cuttings,' 
 are swept into a corner. I was surprised to see 
 there was so much of this. About twice a week 
 one of the hammock-makers puts it all into a 
 coarse canvas cover, makes it up into a well- 
 packed bale, and when there are some tweniy 
 
Dartmoor. 201 
 
 or thirty of these bales, they are weighed, marked, 
 and numbered, and taken up to the steward's 
 store. From thence they are sent up to London by 
 rail to a firm who contracts to take all the prison 
 supplies. They have them sorted; the woollen 
 are used for making ' shoddy,' and the cotton and 
 linen for paper. It often struck me that the 
 sorting of this ' waste ' would have been far more 
 profitable work for prisoners than oakum picking. 
 In these days of iron ships, oakum is not in such 
 demand as it used to be, and does not fetch the 
 price. Were those waste rags carefully sorted by 
 prisoners, no doubt but a very much better price 
 could be realised for them by selling the woollen 
 stuff to the Yorkshire shoddy men, .and the other 
 to the Kentish paper-makers. Government, how- 
 ever, or rather Grovefnment of&cials, have a queer 
 way of doing business, and seldom make the most 
 advantageous bargains, or the best of the means 
 at their disposal. 
 
 I remember a very striking instance of the 
 gross bad management displayed by two important 
 branches of Government Service. Some twenty 
 years ago I met a friend who was a very cute man 
 of business, a JSTorth-CQuntryman, that I had lost 
 
202 Five Years' Penal Sei"vitude. 
 
 sight of for some time; since that we had 
 been connected in a transaction by which we 
 both made money, but out of which he cleared 
 upwards of £30,000. I asked him where he had 
 been, and what had he been doing ; for I knew 
 perfectly well he had not been idle wherever he 
 might have travelled to. 
 
 ' Well,' said he, with a laugh, ' I have been 
 teaching the Government to keep their books by 
 double entry.' 
 
 ' How ! What do you mean ? Explain,' I 
 asked. 
 
 ' Oh, very simple. I was whiling away a little 
 holiday at Chepstow, and, taking up a newspaper 
 I saw the Commissioners of Woods and Forests 
 advertised a large quantity of oak timber for sale, 
 to be cut in the Forest of Dean. This is strange, 
 I thought ; why it was only yesterday I saw the 
 Lords of the Admiralty advertising for a large 
 supply of oak timber. I turned over the few 
 newspapers on the coffee-room table at the hotel 
 I was staying at, and there, sure enough, was their 
 Lordships' advertisement. I read both require- 
 ments attentively. I started off to have a look 
 at the trees the Woods and Forests were so anxious 
 
Dartmoor. 203 
 
 to get rid of, and saw at once they would just 
 suit the naval people admirably. Entering into a 
 few calculations— which you know don't take me 
 very long — I found out some men at Lydney who 
 gave me an estimate for cutting, lopping, and 
 trimming the trees. I replied to both advertise- 
 ments, tendered to both departments, relieved the 
 Honourable Commissioners of the trees they did 
 not know what to do with, and sold them to the 
 noble Lords that conduct our naval matters. Why 
 they could not have done this business themselves 
 I cannot tell. I call that teaching them to keep 
 their books by double entry.' 
 
 In a few words, these were just the simple 
 facts, and I afterwards heard my wideawake 
 friend cleared over ;S1 6,000 out of the transaction. 
 He felled and trimmed the trees, and as fast as 
 possible delivered them as oak timber at the 
 different dockyards. Were there no folks sharp 
 enough, either at Whitehall Place or the Ad- 
 mi^-alty, to have seen both advertisements or 
 known the requirements and wishes of the other de- 
 partment ? Could not the Woods and Forests have 
 made the inquiry of the Admiralty, ' Do you want 
 any oak timber, or shall you* require any shortly?' 
 
204 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 This is, however, wandering far away from 
 sweeping up the tailors' workshop at Dartmoor. 
 "When this is done the men join the rest of the 
 gang on the parade ground at exercise, and when 
 the time arrives for going in, the usual search or 
 rubbing down of the men takes place, and in we 
 go again to our cells for another night. 
 
 When I went to Dartmoor I calculated exactly 
 how many days I had to serve to complete my 
 time. Reckoning upon obtaining all my marks, 
 and losing none, every evening when I went in 
 there was the satisfaction of reducing the number. 
 I well remember the joy I felt when I first reduced 
 the figures from four to three — 999 days seemed 
 ever so much shorter time than 1,000. Each time 
 the leading figure was altered, and the hundreds 
 were reduced, home seemed growing nearer. I 
 offered up praises and thanksgiving for God's help 
 so far over my weary journey ; and the day I re- 
 duced it to two figures — actually less than 100 — 
 and I got permission to let my hair and beard 
 grow, which every man does three months before 
 his time expires, my joy knew no bounds. No 
 youngster in his teens ever so anxiously watched 
 the sprouting of his first whiskers and moustache 
 
Dartmoor. 205 
 
 as I did mine, althougli they were getting tinged 
 ■with grey. There were two occasions when I had 
 to alter my figures the wrong way. I was twice 
 fined forty-eight marks, and until the week was 
 out, and T regained the old figures, my ' slate ' 
 used to look quite disgusting to me. , 
 
 When the weather is very wet the tailors and 
 other 'indoor' gangs do not exercise in the yard, but 
 round and round their respective shops ; and on 
 Sundays, when it is too wet, the exercise takes place 
 in the respective halls of the prisons, one landing 
 doing so at a time. 
 
 After I had been there two or three days I was 
 surprised by Old Dicks throwing open the door of 
 my cell and saying, ' School.' It was school 
 night. Every cell door in the whole hall was 
 open, and down in the hall itself were ranged rows 
 of desks on trestles. I was told to take down piy 
 stool, slate, and pencil. Together with others of 
 the new arrivals I was marched up to the head 
 schoolmaster'^ table, where he briefly examined 
 each man. Those not requiring his instruction 
 he bid return to their cells. The rest he allotted 
 to such classes as they were capable of joining. If 
 a man cannot read or write, they do their best in 
 
2o6 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 one hour a week to teacli him, and no man is 
 allowed to enter the first class and enjoy its 
 privileges until he can read and write. This first 
 evening, however, I remained down, as I had the 
 favour of writing home what is called my arrival 
 letter, a similar privilege that was granted on 
 arrival at Millbank. I understood that every time 
 a convict is removed from one prison to another, 
 provided he is on good behaviour and has lost no 
 privileges, he is allo'syed to write to his friends 
 within one month of his arrival. This letter is 
 the only intimation his friends have of his having 
 been removed ; consequently if a man is a trouble- 
 some fellow, or is under report and disability from 
 writing, his family know nothing of his change of 
 location. They can, however, at any time ascertain 
 where he is, and if in health, by -writing to the 
 head ofiSce of the Director of Convict Prisons in 
 Parliament Street. 
 
 As soon as I had finished my letter I went up- 
 stairs to my cell, but before doing so I took a 
 survey of what was doing around me. Three 
 assistant schoolmasters were at work, each taking 
 a separate class, and the grey-headed, grey-bearded 
 head master walked about supervising the whole, 
 
Dartmoor. 207 
 
 and taking a ramble along the landings, chatting 
 with those prisoners who needed no schooling. 
 The school orderly attended on them all, seeing 
 to supplies of pens, books, ink, etc. One master 
 was teaching writing ; another was dictating ; and 
 the third, with a blackboard and a piece of chalk, 
 was doing his best to drum some simple rule of 
 arithmetic into the heads of those whose educa- 
 tion had been evidently neglected. 
 
 On school nights the Chaplain also shows him- 
 self, and walks round, looking into the cells of 
 those men who welcome his visits, and chats for a 
 few minutes with each. At MUlbank there is a 
 service of the Holy Communion once only in three 
 months, and no man is allowed to attend till he 
 has been six months in the prison. At Dartmoor 
 there was a Communion regularly every Sunday, 
 and the prisons took it in turns. Every man was 
 invited to join by the Chaplain, who no doubt 
 meant well, but I much question if his beating up 
 for recruits in the way he did was judicious, as many 
 men attended with the idea of currying favour by 
 so doing. Their conduct and language in many 
 instances gave evidence that they had no real 
 or sincere appreciation of the solemn and sacred 
 
2o8 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 service tliey took part in. Frequently very dis- 
 graceful scenes occuiTed even in chapel, many 
 of which have been related to me, and of one 
 of Tfhich I was myself an eye-witness. I re- 
 frain from giving any account of these, as well as 
 from repeating many tales I have heard from 
 prisoners, which would only distress and shock 
 the reader. It has been my sad experience to have 
 met at Dartmoor with creatures in human form 
 who seem to be of a different species to ordinary 
 men. They are mere brutes in mind and demons 
 in heart. Were I to attempt to give any descrip- 
 tion of them, their crimes in the outer world, oi 
 their conversation and acts within the prison 
 walls, the reader would cast aside the book with 
 horror and disgust. 
 
 The very worst of characters I have been 
 brought into contact with have generally belonged 
 to the class known as roughs, and the worst of all 
 are London roughs. This class appear to me to be 
 almost irreclaimable, and not at all amenable 
 to any ordinary moral influence. As a rule, 
 they are as cowardly as they are brutal — their 
 animal instincts and propensities predominate to 
 the almost total exclusion of any intellectual or 
 human feeling, and with them, I fear, there is 
 
Dartmoor. 209 
 
 but one mode of effectually dealing. Brutes they 
 are, and as brutes only can they be punished and 
 coerced, and that is by the Lash, 
 
 I have, however, digressed from speaking of 
 the Chaplain, frona vrhom I did not have a visit 
 on our first school night ; but shortly afterwards 
 he did call in at my cell. Though I did , not 
 agree with him on most points, yet I always 
 found him most assiduous in his duties, very 
 earnest, and a most obliging gentlemanly fellow. 
 He was, however, a great stickler for rules, and 
 on one occasion I felt he did not quite do his, 
 Christian duty in adhering too closely to the strict 
 prison rules. The case was peculiar, and happened 
 during the last year of my servitude, when I was 
 not in the cells, but in the association rooms. 
 
 A young man with five years'' sentence, who 
 had been a cutter in a West End tailor's shop in 
 London, was at the next table to me, and made 
 me his confidant about many things. He had 
 received a letter from his wife, a young giddy 
 thing, who had not long before lost their only 
 child. She had hitherto kept herself respectably 
 with embroidery work for some house in Regent 
 Street since his imprisonment, but the loss of the 
 P 
 
2IO Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 child had upset her considerably. A quarrel had 
 taken place between her and her mother, with 
 whom she had lived, and she had written to her 
 husband saying she should leave her mother's and 
 go into lodgings by herself unless she heard from 
 him to the contrary. Unfortunately he would not 
 be privileged to write for nearly four months. 
 -He was most anxious she should not leave her 
 mother's house and go to live by herself, and he 
 consulted me as to what was best to be done. I 
 spoke to the Chaplain, and explained it all to him, 
 though he knew pretty well all about it, having 
 read the letters received by the young fellow from 
 Ijis mother-in-law. I pointed out the dangers of 
 a pretty young woman, — she was only nineteen 
 and remarkably good-looking — leaving the protec- 
 tion of her mother's house to go into a lodging 
 by herself, with her husband in prison and not 
 likely to be able to join her for two years. 
 
 ' Tes, it is a very dangerous position,' replied 
 the Chaplain, after listening to aU I said, ' and 
 a very wrong and foolish thing to do ; but what 
 do you wish me to do ? What can I do?' 
 
 ' There is only one of two things,' I replied, ' to 
 be done, and you are the only person to do them.' 
 
Dartmoor. 211 
 
 'What are they?' 
 
 ' Back up a request of the young man to the 
 Governor to be allowed to write now instead of 
 fourteen weeks hence, when his time will be due.' 
 
 ' Oh, I am quite "sure,' said the Chaplain, 
 ' any such an application would be useless, and I 
 should only be told not to travel out of my own 
 duties and department.' 
 
 I must here inform the reader there was a 
 coolness at the time between the Governor and 
 Chaplain, who did not pull well together. 
 
 'Then, sir, will you write yourself to this 
 young woman. Explain to her why her husband 
 cannot write himself, and that he does not wiS'h 
 her on any account to leave her mother's house.' 
 
 ' No, no,' he replied ; ' that is against the 
 prison rules, and I cannot do it.' 
 
 ' Well, sir, can you not strain a point, and in 
 your private capacity, being in possession of the 
 facts of the case, wUl you not just pen a few lines 
 to tiy and save a giddy young creature from what 
 I feel sure will be her ruin ? ' 
 
 'No, I cannot see it is my duty to transgress 
 the strict rules of the prison. Good evening.' 
 
 ' Good evening, sir,' I replied, and saluted him 
 p 2 
 
212 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 as lie departed. I coiild not but think lie would 
 have done a higher and more Christian duty by 
 mating the little effort I asked him, in sending that 
 young wife a message from her imprisoned hus- 
 band, th^-n by so strictly keeping to the stem hard 
 rules of the prison. I was in hopes that, though 
 he had refused to me to do it, yet, when he got 
 home and thought of it and of his office to try and 
 save souls from sinning, he might after aU write a 
 few lines to her. 
 
 But no, he did not, and the result was just 
 what I anticipated it would be. She left her 
 mother's. Many months went on and he had no 
 letter. At last came a letter from her mother to 
 him, saying she was living away from her, and 
 had not been near her for a long while, and re- 
 proaching him for having married her daughter 
 and then getting into prison. Before I left Dart- 
 moor we heard of her living with a gentleman 
 who was keeping her, and he, poor fellow, who 
 was devotedly fond of her, began to get careless 
 and was frequently in trouble. I fear when I left 
 he was in a fair way to lose all or a gi-eat part of 
 his remission. He was not an habitual thief. He 
 would not have taken to dishonest courses. His 
 
Dartmoor. 2 1 • 
 
 crime for wliich lie was sentenced was embezzle- 
 ment, and lie belonged to tbat class for whom one 
 ' dose ' is quite enough. I cannot but think, had 
 the Chaplain transgressed that one little prison 
 law, he would have saved the wife from trans- 
 gressing God's law and the husband from becoming 
 a reckless man. After having lived in luxury 
 ' under the protection ' of a man who ' kept her 
 in style,' what likelihood was there of her re- 
 turning to her husband, a discharged convict? 
 The last time I walked with him he expressed his 
 determination to find her out and beg her to come 
 back to him. Has she responded to his call ? 
 
 All this time ' school time ' has been going on 
 in the hall below, and after I had been up in my 
 cell a little while, the head-schoolmaster looked in 
 and asked me if I had such a book to read as I liked. 
 He very kindly gave me a slight insight into the 
 contents of the prison library and recapitulated the 
 principal rules. He and I became very good friend^, 
 and I always had my shelf well supplied with 
 books. I found that many very useful books came 
 under the head of school books, and I availed my- 
 self of several. I commenced the study of Spanish, 
 the prison library supplying me with grammar, 
 
214 -^zW Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 dictionary, and a reading book. I also brushed up 
 a good deal of historical reading, and passed many 
 an hour with Euclid. As I have already said, the 
 library boots are the convicts ^ greatest blessing. 
 With the works of Macaulay, Froude, Napier, 
 Agnes Stricklajid, Motley, Prescott, and others, a 
 man may so while away an hour as to forget for 
 the time the dreadful slave he is. I only hope, for 
 the sake of the many men to whom these books 
 are so inestimable a boon, and the really good 
 effect they have upon the men, that no one will 
 ever be cruel enough to rise in his seat in Parlia- 
 ment to move for their withdrawal. 
 
 The greatest nuisance to me, when I was deep 
 in the perusal of some interesting book, was .being 
 called out to take my stool and go down into the 
 hall below to have my hair and beard cut. This 
 was a matter left pretty much to the young 
 assistant warders, and I think they took delight 
 in these petty annoyances, particularly when they 
 saw they really did cause a man vexation. 
 
 Although they were so particular about cutting 
 a man's hair, his nails might grow as long as a 
 Chinaman's for aught they cared. In the tailors' 
 shop we aU of course had scissors, and with a little 
 
Dartmoor. 215 
 
 manoeuvring, a man could manage to get an 
 opportunity to cut his toe-nails. The same applied 
 also to the shoemakers, who used knives at their 
 work ; but to other men there was nothing else for 
 it but to sharpen up their tin knives, and cut 
 their toe and finger-nails with them as best they 
 could. 
 
 Saturday evening was as busy a time with Old 
 Dicks as it had been with Paddy at Millbank. 
 On Saturday evening there was little or no reading. 
 Clean clothes were supplied, which had to be put 
 on at once, and the dirty ones put out. Soap, 
 paper, candles, salt, rags, cleaning cloths, bath 
 brick, and whitening were all supplied. Men that 
 had torn their clothes had to put them out, with 
 ' tallies '—with their numbers and the numbers of 
 their cells on — attached ; the same with boots and 
 shoes. New clothes, boots, shoes, and clothes that 
 had gone the week before to be repaired were all 
 sent 'home ' on Saturday evening. The orderlies 
 and the warders had a busy time in serving out 
 the things, rectifying mistakes, etc. On Saturdays', 
 too, every man had the loan of blacking and 
 brushes to clean his shoes. All wore low shoes on 
 Sunday. We tailors polished our boots too. The 
 
2i6 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 outdoor gaugs all oiled their boots. The passing 
 of blacking and oil tins under the doors of cells, 
 taking them to other cells, giving out clean and new 
 things, and collecting ragged and dirty things 
 kept the warders and orderlies well employed. 
 
 At length the Sunday comes. The getting-up 
 bell does not ring till seven, so we have an extra 
 snooze in the morning. This to many of the 
 • bog-men ' is a great comfort. Many of them 
 sleep nearly the whole day. The bedding on 
 Sunday is rolled up the first thing, and is not left 
 open on the hammock. 
 
 After breakfast the early exercise takes place 
 for an hour, and many men have an opportunity 
 of meeting for a talk on that day that does not 
 occur all the week. All the gangs, out and indoor, 
 exercise this day, not in gangs, but in landings 
 and prisons, so that one meets with another class 
 of men, so to speak, and we insiders hear the news 
 , from the outside and bog gangs. It is all news 
 in our little world, for wso are shut in from 
 hearing any from the great world outside. 
 
 After exercise, church parade is held. The 
 men are aU drawn up in close order in the hall. 
 
Dartmoor. 217 
 
 The principal of the prison and each of our own 
 warders give a look over the men to see all are 
 shipshape. Presently the principal shouts, ' Rear 
 rank take two paces to the rear — march ! ' 
 
 'Attention!' 
 
 In walks either the Governor or Deputy, 
 accompanied by the Doctor, chief warder, and the 
 principal, of the day ; all along the front rank 
 they pass from one end to the other, and then 
 back between the ranks to inspect the rear men. 
 
 ' Rear rank take two paces forward — march ! ' 
 
 ' Stand at ease.' 
 
 They are gone to inspect some other prison. 
 
 If a man has one button of his jacket undone 
 
 Captain B , the Governor, would ' spot ' it at 
 
 once. 
 
 This man's whole time seemed to me devoted 
 to dress, and he , must have had unlimited credit 
 with his tailor. I never saw a man in such a 
 variety of costumes in a short time in my life. He 
 was a good-looking man and a great dandy, but 
 if yoTi saw him three or four times a day he was 
 dressed differently. He generally affected very 
 broad-brimmed hats, but of all sorts, colours. 
 
2i8 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 shapes, and taaterials. Some of his neckties 
 were brilliant in the extreme — splendid, in fact. 
 His style was too much of what I fancy Mr. 
 Mantalini's would have been had he lived now. 
 He was the direct antithesis to his Deputy, Captain 
 
 A , who dressed once in the day, and it was 
 
 perfection in fit, colour, tone, and style. Both 
 left the prison in my time there. The Governor 
 was transferred to Chatham, and I believe, but 
 am not quite certain, the Deputy was promoted 
 to Governor of Parkhurst in the Isle of Wight. 
 Their successors were very different men from 
 both of them. 
 
 After the Governor's Sunday inspection was 
 over, those who were communicants were called 
 out— if it was the turn of that. prison to take 
 the sacrament on that day. After church straight 
 back to our cells were we marched, and presently 
 the bread and cheese, our Sunday's dinner, was 
 served out. I was greatly surprised, knowing 
 what a deal of bad and indifferent cheese there 
 is about, at the very fair, I may almost say 
 good quality of the cheese supplied to the 
 prisoners. 
 
 On Sundays one-half the officials are off duty. 
 
Dartmoor. 2 1 9 
 
 and it is altogether a lazy day. In the afternoon, 
 at three, there is another service at church. Some 
 of the men go to their second exercise before, and 
 some after church, and on returningfrom tjiat it is a 
 long time to bed time, which has to be got through 
 somehow. To myself and others with a good 
 book, it was of course most enjoyable, so long as 
 it was light enough to read. Unfortunately it did 
 not always suit the warder on duty to let us have 
 a light for our candles quite so soou as we thought 
 them required. He could see better outside than 
 we could inside the cells. To men who did not 
 read, sleep was a great resource ; to others, who 
 neither read nor slept, the difficulty was to get it 
 passed. Some would set to and polish all their 
 things, others would carry on a conversation with 
 their neighbours, while others again would indulge 
 in a shakedown, or cellar-flap dance, dreadfully to 
 the discomfort of the man in the cells below. 
 
 During my first Sunday's walk I had several 
 celebrities pointed out to me, one of whom was 
 the well-known ' Jem the Penman.' Some of the 
 Fenian prisoners were pointed out as great 
 heroes. 
 
 ' Do you see that tall man just now passing 
 
220 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 the civil guard,' said my walking companion, ' the 
 second classer? He's a ten-year man. That's 
 the Duke of Devonshire. At least,' continued he, 
 seeing I thought he was talking nonsense, 'it 
 was because he was not the real duke that has 
 brought him here. He flashed it about a good 
 deal for a long time, going from one place to 
 another. Sometimes he was a lord, at others an 
 earl. He stayed in a place doing the grand and 
 sucking the flats till the folks began to smoke 
 him as not all there ; then he shifted to another 
 place and took another title. He's a doctor in 
 his right business. One day he very unfortu- 
 nately introduced himself to some place as the 
 Duke of Devonshire. He hadn't posted himself 
 in the fashionable intelligence of the local papers, 
 or he would have seen his highness of Devonshire 
 had actually been there — the real duke — a fort- 
 night before. It was unlucky for him he couldn't 
 of thought of some other place to be duke of 
 instead of Devonshire. The landlord was a ' fly 
 cove ' ; he took his dukeship in, and sent down for 
 an inspector of police at once. When once he 
 was fairly caught, half the counties in England 
 wanted the honour of trying and committing him, 
 
Dartmoor. 221 
 
 for he had beeu everywhere almost. They say he 
 made a paying game of it, and knew how to turn 
 the things into money that he obtained from the 
 people, and that he has got a tidy snm put 
 away dark somewhere against he's finished his 
 time.' 
 
 I noticed the man — a fine-looking fellow, cer- 
 tainly — hut not to my mind the one to make 
 people think him a duke. 
 
 In the afternoon I was mated with another man, 
 but quite as commtmicative. Until we were in the 
 parade ground and on the march round we were 
 not allowed to talk. 
 
 ' You come down with the last batch from the 
 Bank, didn't yer?' commenced my companion. 'Ah, 
 I thought so. What's yer dose ? ' Looking on to 
 my badge, 'Five, oh, you can do that little lot on 
 yer 'ed easy. I've twelve this go. I did a lagging 
 of seven and was at the Gib. three out of it. 'Ow 
 did I like it ? Only wish they'd send me there 
 again. Why they serves you out 'bacca there 
 reg'lar every week. I was servant to one of the 
 officers, and had a blooming good time of it till 
 the cholera came, and then I didn't care how soon 
 they'd a sent me 'ome. Tes, I was frightened. 
 
2 22 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 You see cholera ain't like* 'nother disease, it don't 
 give a feUer no time. Why, I've stood next a 
 bloke in the mornin' at early muster, and a 'elped 
 to bury him the same night. It's so blooming 'ot 
 a chap must be buried at once, ',e won't keep. 
 Oh no, I wasn't officer's servant all my time. 
 It was only after the cholera cleared off a lot of 
 prisoners, and soldiers too, and he couldn't get 
 no one else, that he took me. Afore that I 
 worked in the galleries, a making the casemates 
 for the guns, and blooming hard work it was. 
 We also made great tanks to 'old the water. 
 Some of the chaps couldn't stand the 'eat, but 
 I could; we weren't dressed in such togs as 
 these ere, but had white canvas jumpers and 
 trousers. Did anyone ever get away? Ah, 
 I just believe they did, too. The Spaniards would 
 always 'elp a bloke if he was once over the lines. 
 They weren't like the blooming fellows about this 
 place, who pounce on a poor devil and give 'im up 
 directly, for the sake of the blooming five quid 
 that the Government gives 'em. This "ere Dart- 
 moor is a blessed sight better than Chatham, I can 
 tell you. There's many a bloke there as is druv 
 
Dartmoor. 223 
 
 to suicide, it's such a 'ell upon earth. One chap 
 while I was there threw himself down in front of 
 the engine as works the trucks of earth out of the 
 new dock and was cut in half. He'd been bashed 
 twice, and the blooming warder had been going 
 on at him till he couldn't stand it no longer, and 
 he ups with a pick and chucks it straight at 'un 
 and 'it 'im on the shoulder, and then 'e see the 
 engine a coming, so 'e saved 'em the trouble of 
 bashing 'im again and chucked hisself bang in 
 front of it, and it soon settled 'im. The men are 
 drove into being reg'lar devils by being constantly 
 down upon by the blooming officers. Them as 'as 
 any pluck in 'em turns savage, and them as 'asn't 
 they knocks under, as I did, and gets ill, and lots 
 on 'em dies. I got sent to Portland. Yes, that's 
 better than Chatham a blooming sight. I was 
 in the infirmary there after I'd been there a month, 
 and there was that Member of Parliament, Eoupell. 
 He was 'ospital orderly, and a very good one too. 
 What d'yOj say ? Who's that tall man standing at 
 the latrine door ? Oh, that's one of the cleverest 
 gentlemen cracksmen out. 'E's been in some 
 real good things 'e 'as. The blooming crushers 
 
224 Five Yeai's Penal Servitude. 
 
 ■were precious glad when they "pinched " 'im. 'E's 
 been to France, to Paris, and over to America. I 
 see we're a going in now, and I 'avn't time, but I 
 could tell you some fine yarns about him.' 
 
 The reader will pretty well know by this time 
 the daily routine of a convict's life, which I have 
 endeavoured to describe with a minuteness I trust 
 will not be found tedious, but with a view to lay 
 such details before him as will enable him to pic- 
 ture to himself exactly what it really is, stripped of 
 all romance. 
 
 Time wore on, and in due course the cold 
 blasts of winter came upon us. In no habitable 
 part of Great Britain is the severity of winter felt 
 more than at Dartmoor. The snow has lain on 
 the ground for weeks together, and many re- 
 member the day the poor schoolmaster was dug 
 out dead from the snow, having perished in the 
 storm which had overtaken him on his way from 
 Horrabridge to Princestown. Sometimes the 
 outside gangs cannot go out for days together 
 prevented by snow and fog. Eain we thought 
 nothing of, as it mostly rained or drizzled, and 
 the thick fogs soak everything through. The 
 high ground of Dartmoor is the first to catch the 
 
Dartmoor. 225 
 
 clouds brought up Channel by the westerly winds 
 from the Great Gulf Stream of the Atlantic. Not- 
 withstanding it being so damp through the fog 
 that eyen our bedclothes in the cells were 'beaded' 
 with fog or dewdrops, and every wall in the 
 prison streamed with water, the men generally 
 were far more free from colds or rheumatism than 
 I could have expected. The east wiads, when we 
 did get them, were severe in the extreme. If it 
 was not absolutely raining we always exercised 
 out of doors. We had no topcoats, not even 
 ' slops ' — nothing but our ordinary indoor clothes. 
 Our warders had both thick overcoats and water- 
 proofs over them, and looked comfortable. 
 
 One day, while exercising, I was seized with 
 cold in my inside, and was obliged to faU out. 
 The wind was blowing from the east so bitterly 
 keen, and driving before it a sharp cutting sleet, 
 that at last the principal coming to the prison 
 door ordered the warder to bring us in. Up to 
 the shop the men marched : I crawled, and when 
 there I was obliged to throw myself upon some 
 bales of waste in perfect agony. Jemmy came up 
 to me and asked what was the matter. He saw I 
 was ill, and drew the attention of the other prin- 
 
 Q 
 
226 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 cipal to me. He was a kind-hearted man in the 
 main, though the greatest hand at ' blowing up ' 
 in the whole prison. 
 
 Mr. Maltin told me to go with him and he 
 would send me to the infirmary, and he very con- 
 siderately, instead of taking me round the prisons 
 across the yards exposed to the weather, led the 
 way through the passages inside the prisons, till 
 we had only a short distance over the infirmary 
 exercise ground to go. Seeing an infitrmary officer, 
 he hailed, him and gave me over to his charge. 
 The reader will please to bear in mind what I was 
 suffering from, cold in the stomach, and then he 
 wiU be able to thoroughly appreciate the humane 
 and sensible treatment I received. 
 
 On entering the infirmary, instead of going 
 upstairs as I anticipated, I was ordered by the 
 apothecary into a stone passage. Not one word 
 was asked as to what was the matter with me, but 
 I was simply told to strip, which I did, and stood 
 bare-footed and naked on the cold stones, while 
 the hospital warder quietly searched my clothes, 
 with the apothecary looking on. 
 
 ' What for? ' asks the reader. It is the rule. 
 
 I dressed as soon as I could, and then asked 
 if I could have anything. 
 
Dartmoor. 227 
 
 ' When tlie doctor comes.' 
 
 Two hours did I wait seated on a stool till the 
 doctor did come. He saw me, and immediately 
 ordered me what I required, and what the apothe- 
 cary could have given me had he not been a brute ; 
 the doctor offered me to remain there for a day or 
 two. I thanked him for his kindness, but on the 
 plea of not losing my marks — for a man in 
 hospital only gets six instead of eight marks a 
 day — I said I would see how I felt in the after- 
 noon, and, if possible, would return to my prison. 
 The medicine he gave me comforted the stomach, 
 and the room being nice and warm, I gradually 
 recovered. I most heartily thanked God that 
 day for the blessing of a good constitution. Many 
 men taken in the same way, and receiving such 
 treatment, would have been seriously ill, and per- 
 haps have died. I felt that if ever I went into 
 that infirmary again, as a patient, I should never 
 see my home. There was neither sense nor need 
 to treat a man under such circumstances in such 
 a way. Nothing but the most absurd routine, 
 combined with sheer brutality, could have dictated 
 it. 
 
 Some time afterwards I mentioned it to the 
 o2 
 
228 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 chief warder, and te said the apothecary need 
 not have stripped me at all, and promised he would 
 enquire into it. The apothecary, I expect, ' heard 
 of it,' as he took the first opportunity many 
 months after to ' run me in ' and report me, under 
 the following circumstances. 
 
 After I had been removed from the cells into 
 the association rooms of No. 3 prison, I was for 
 some little while troubled with a cough; nothing 
 of any great consequence, but what is kaown as a 
 stomach cough. One day, when the doctor was 
 coming round on his usual visit during the 
 dinner hour, I asked him for a little opening 
 medicine, saying what was the matter. He 
 ordered it, and passed on. The apothecary, in- 
 stead of giving me what I wanted, ordered the 
 hospital orderly to give me two cough piUs. 
 These were of no earthly use to me, and I told 
 him so, and that the doctor had ordered other 
 piUs. 
 
 ' Nonsense. I know best,' he said. 
 
 ' You cannot know my constitution as well as 
 I do myself, and I know perfectly well what I 
 want. A couple of rhubarb pills will do all I 
 require.' 
 
Dartmoor. 229 
 
 ' We'll see if you know better than I do,' said 
 lie in a fury. Then, turning to the orderly, ' Take 
 that man's number.' 
 
 ' Here it is,' I replied, ' 29,830 ; be sure and take 
 it correctly.' My monkey was up, and I felt savage. 
 I felt indignant that such a brute should be in such 
 a position. He ' ran me in ' next day. 
 
 I went before the governor, who told me I was 
 reported for insolence to the doctor. I explained 
 the case fully to him, and told him it was the 
 apothecary, and not the doctor, I had spoken to. 
 I was very anxious at the time, for I then held the 
 best position in the prison, in the Clerk of the 
 Works office, and I was fearful I might lose it. 
 I saw the meanness of the feUow m endeavouring 
 to make out it was the doctor I had had the alter- 
 cation with, and not himself. 
 
 The governor turned to the chief officer, and 
 I was sent back for a few minutes. When I was 
 recalled he said, 
 
 ' I find it was the apothecary you spoke to, 
 and I am surprised you should have done so. It 
 is men like you that should set a good example to 
 the others in treating the officials with respect. I 
 shall fine you 48 marks, and you had better be 
 careful in future.' 
 
230 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Forty-eight marks ! a week's remission. The 
 very thought made me savage, but I blessed my 
 stars I had not lost my class, or my good berth. 
 I went back to my work, greatly to the satisfaction 
 of the Clerk of the Works, who had found me a 
 useful man to him, and was sadly afraid when he 
 heard I was ' run in,' he would lose me. I made up 
 my mind I would ' sarve ' my pestle and mortar 
 friend out ; and so I should have been able to, 
 before long, in a very quiet way, which I could do 
 I knew, as the time was coming round for his 
 quarters to be painted, papered, and done up. A 
 good deal of the arrangements of these sort of 
 things really rested with me, as I gave out the 
 papers for the waUs. In stock we had all sorts, 
 and among them some of the most hideous ever 
 designed. 
 
 Many people may not be aware of it, but the 
 colour and pattern of the paper on the wall of a 
 room makes aU the difference whether it has a 
 bright, cheerful, homelike appearance, or is a 
 gloomy room only fit to give one the horrors. You 
 may go into a room covered with a light bright, 
 cheerful paper, and it strikes you at once as a 
 pleasant chamber. A something pleases the eye 
 
Dartmoor. 
 
 231 
 
 at once, and gives a feeling of pleasure and satis- 
 faction. Ton enter another room, perhaps in the 
 next house, having the same prospect and exactly 
 the same size, and are at once struck with a feel- 
 ing of discomfort, and a consciousness that no 
 furniture in the world would ever make it a com- 
 fortable or pleasant place to live in. Toulook out 
 of the window. No, the prospect there is all right ; 
 examine the farniture, and try the chairs ; they 
 are comfortable and easy enough, but the eye is 
 offended by the hideous staring wall-coveriag, and 
 the place is spoiled. So I determined his quarters 
 should be. I remembered having put on one side 
 some pieces of the most frightful patterned paper 
 I ever saw. It was not so much the pattern as the 
 dreadful gloomy colours. I pictured to myself his 
 sitting in his room, after torturing poor prisoners 
 all day, papered with that terrible paper, and full 
 of the sufferings of a fit of blue devils. I might 
 have saved myself all my uncharitable feelings. 
 He never had his quarters done up. Instead of 
 serving out room papers for him, I had to give 
 out to the carpenter's shop a coffin plate and 
 fittings. 
 
 It seems he was in the habit of taking every 
 
232 . Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 morning a ' screw ' in the shape of a little dose of 
 bitters to correct the effects of the last evening's 
 festivities. At the public-house in Prince's Town 
 the officers of the prison meet of an evening, and 
 over their pipes and grog or beer relate the little 
 incidents of the day, and crack their jokes about 
 having served this man out, giving that man a job 
 he didn't relish, and run some one else in. Some 
 officers hardly ever had a comfortable dinner 
 hour, as they had reports of some one or other 
 every day, and when together in the evening 
 boasted of their doings. So also did Master 
 Apothecary ; and I daresay he occasionally took 
 what required a little ' screw ' in the morning to 
 counteract and enable him to pull himself together 
 before going his rounds with the doctor. He 
 mixed his own special bottle, and placed it in his 
 compounding room. Either he did it himself by 
 mistake, or some one, a prisoner or warder, who 
 had a spite against him, for he was universally 
 disliked, but at any rate the bottle was changed. 
 It always stood on the shelf, at the end next the 
 door, the first of a row of similar bottles. He 
 came in one morning as usual, poured out his 
 customary ' screw,' and swallowed it. A moment 
 
Dartmoor. 233 
 
 afterwards he called out, ' He's done for me ; he's 
 done for me ; send at once for Doctor Howell.' 
 
 The doctor was sent for ; the hospital warders 
 and orderlies did what they could for him, or 
 made a show of doing so. He rapidly grew worse ; 
 went into fits of contortions ; and as the doctor 
 entered the room expired, aU drawn up in such a 
 way as needed no examination of the hottle to find 
 he had swallowed such a ' screw ' of strychnine as 
 would have poisoned twenty men. The first 
 bottle on the shelf was the deadly bitter poison ; 
 the very next bottle was his own mixture. Both 
 bottles were exactly alike, as all doctors' bottles 
 are ; the labels and contents alone were different. 
 Whether he or some warder had accidently mis- 
 placed and changed the bottles, or whether some- 
 one, prisoner or warder, had intentionally done it. 
 He who knows all secrets alone can tell. I believe 
 there were plenty about the place who were quite 
 capable of doing so, and there were many op- 
 portunities both for prisoners as well as warders 
 for effecting such a change. Perhaps it may have 
 been done to serve him out and give him a 
 physicking, but with no deliberate intention of 
 killing him. The room in which the drugs were 
 
234 Fi'V^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 kept was at the end of a large ward, and in full 
 view of every bed and its occupant. Every 
 prisoner in those beds must- have seen him each 
 morning take his ' screw,' and nothing easier than 
 for some man to have slipped out of bed, night or 
 day, and ' rung the changes ' of the bottles. 
 Suicide was spoken of, and I rather think the 
 verdict was to that effect, but there were many 
 good reasons to suppose that, unless it was pure 
 accident, it was the work of some one he had 
 angered by his usual brutal conduct, who had paid 
 him off. I had all the particulars of his death 
 from a man who was in bed in the ward at the 
 time, and actually saw him take the fatal ' dose,' 
 and all the confusion that followed till the moment 
 he expired. I never heard anyone regret him, 
 and when his successor came and took possession 
 of his quarters I selected him as cheerful a pattern 
 paper as I could, in hopes it might tend to keep 
 him in a pleasant state of mind. 
 
 I have mentioned that one of my fellow-work- 
 men in the tailors' shop was an old Liverpool city 
 arab. He used to teU some amusing tales of his 
 early life. He and other boys picked up a living 
 how and where they could. When a troop of 
 
Dartmoor. 235 
 
 emigrants arrived at tlie railway station they would 
 follow and mix themselves np in the throng, ready 
 to filch any stray article they could lay their hands 
 on. ' Germans afforded the best plunder. Irish 
 never had anything but themselves and their kids 
 to take.' At night they would leave the town for 
 the suburbs, and when all was quiet, try all the 
 larder and pantry doors and windows, and it was 
 very seldom there was not something within reach 
 a good meal could be made of. 
 
 'A long arm and a crooked stick,' said he, 
 ' would reach a long way through iron bars. We 
 never troubled about the dishes : the grub was all 
 we wanted. Once we had a rare blow-out at some 
 swell's place at Aigburth. We saw there was a 
 feed going on, and we knew the back outhouses 
 well. The pantry was a little house outside. I 
 saw the servants going about, for it was dark out- 
 side, and all lighted up first-rate indoors, so they 
 could not see us though we had got into the back 
 garden and was a looking at 'em enjoying their- 
 selves proper. There were three of us. We see 
 all manner of good things being taken into this 
 pantry, and our only chance was the door, as the 
 window was not only iron-barred but had that 
 
236 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 holey zinc stuflf over it to keep the buzzers out 
 from blowing of the meat. One of my pals pro- 
 posed to go in and hide down behind the door. 
 " What's the use of that, you blooming little fool," 
 says I, " they'll lock the door and fasten you in. I 
 knows a better lay than that ; " and so I creeps up in 
 the dark shadow till I gets quite close, then down on 
 my hands and knees T watched a moment tiU one of 
 the servant girls had brought another load of grub 
 out, and as she turned her back and went into the 
 house I grabbed the key and so they couldn't lock 
 it nohow. Well, we stayed very quiet in among 
 the trees and laurels in the back garden tUl about 
 two or three in the morning when aU the swells 
 had gone away and the house was all quiet, and 
 then we went in and had a tightener you may de- 
 pend. AU we wanted was some lush to make us 
 happy. When we had eaten as much as we could, 
 we got a towel that was there and we filled that 
 full and then mizzled. We didn't go near Aig- 
 burth again for one whUe ; the climate wouldn't 
 have agreed with us. I daresay the coppers quite 
 expected us the next night, and looked out 
 for us. I hope none of them caught cold in 
 waiting.' 
 
Dartmoor. 237 
 
 Coppers, I may inform the reader, is slang for 
 police. 
 
 The Welshman's particular 'lay' was the 
 passing of bad money. He got supplies at a nomi- 
 nal price from the makers of 'shise coin,' and 
 would ' plant ' it where he could. At the time he 
 was ' pinched ' he was acting as potman at a pub- 
 lic-house in the outskirts of London, where they 
 had a skittle ground much frequented by the 
 better class of workmen. Every man who paid 
 him for beer or other drink that required change 
 he would palm upon him a sixpence or a shilling — 
 a tanner, a bob, or half a bull, according to what 
 coin he gave to be changed. On a Saturday night 
 he would ' plant ' 3?. to 5Z. of bad silver in this 
 way. At last there was such a lot going about, 
 and the shopkeepers began to detect it so often, 
 that some men got into trouble and taken up 
 on suspicion. After a while, some man, cuter 
 than the rest, discovered the fact that the bulk of 
 it came from the men in a large engine shop close 
 by. The police were put on the scent. One Satur- 
 day afternoon just before the firm paid their wages, 
 they were waited upon by an inspector in plain 
 clothes and a man from the Mint. The matter was 
 
238 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 explained to them. The money they had received 
 from the bankers to pay wages was thoroughly 
 examined, and all found ' up to the mark.' The 
 men were asked where they generally first changed 
 their sovereigns into sUver ; where they first went 
 to and spent a part of their money. ' 
 
 The ' Duke of Wellington.' 
 
 From there the man from the Mint strolled ia 
 to the ' Duke,' but not with the inspector — ^he was 
 known too well for that — ^but with another ' gent.' 
 Eirst they went to the bar and had a drain, tender- 
 ing a half-sovereign. " Half a quid,' he called it, 
 and took up the change, turned it over, and that 
 was all right. They then looked round and saw 
 the busy potman running in and out with the pots 
 of beer and glasses, and followed him "and some 
 workmen into the skittle-ground. Here they 
 called for some beer, paid for it with a sixpence, 
 and sat down to look on at the game. After 
 several men had received change ibr quids and 
 half-quids from the potman, they smelt a rat. 
 Following a man who was leaving with the change 
 out of a half-sovereign, one of the two stopped 
 him at the door and asked him if he could oblige 
 him by allowiag him to see the change the pot- 
 
Dartmoor. 239 
 
 man liad jast given. At first the man refused, 
 but on the ' gent ' explaining, in a few words, his 
 reason, he did so, and, sure enough, were a ' shise' 
 half-huU and a 'duffing' tanner: half-a-crown 
 and a sixpence quietly palmed off on this man out 
 of his half-sovereign. Calling to a policeman out- 
 side, the ' gent ' asked them both to follow him, 
 and meeting the busy potman — our Welsh friend 
 — grabbed him at once. There he was with a 
 heap of ' shise ' upon him. He was caught, but 
 they knew very well that he did not make it him- 
 self; so they tried all they knew to find out where 
 his supplies came from. They got a clue, through 
 the landlord, of a little girl, the Welshman's 
 niece, who very frequently came to see him, and 
 kindly enquired after his health. She was traced, 
 after two or three days, to a very respectable 
 street of small houses, in the north of London, 
 but too late. The people had left in a hurry, and 
 had forgotten to leave any address ; but the man 
 from the Mint saw quite enough to convince him 
 there had been a very nice little business done 
 there in supplying much more ' shise ' than our 
 Welsh friend, or two or three more like him, 
 could have got rid of. 
 
240 Five Years Penal Servitude, 
 
 I ascertained while at Dartmoor tliat a very 
 large 'business' is done in 'shise.' What with 
 electro-plating and most perfect tools and dies, 
 combined with really skilled labour, spurious 
 silver is now turned out in such perfection, that 
 until it has been in use for some time it is most 
 difficult to detect it. There were a great number 
 of men in for ' smashing,' and two or three actual 
 coiners. 
 
 I one day asked the ' Liverpool Arab ' what 
 Larry was in for. ' Slinging his hook ' at church, 
 was his reply. ' His " lay " was St. Paul's, and 
 the swell churches and Exeter Hall. He'd tog 
 himself up in black, with a white " squeeze," on a 
 Sunday, and go to two or three different churches, 
 where he did a tidy thing now and then. He'll 
 tell you all about it if you ask him.' 
 
 I got with him one day at exercise, and he 
 confirmed the Arab's account of him. 
 
 'I have heard all the popular preachers in 
 London,' said he; 'and except when the May 
 meetings were on at Exeter Hall, I never went 
 crooked any other day but Sunday. St. Paul's 
 and the Abbey are the best places. Polks stare 
 about at the monuments in' coming out, and then 
 
Dartmoor. 241 
 
 it's easy work. Tou see every man has his own 
 particular lay. Some go to races, some to theatres, 
 others railway stations; but I always stuck to 
 the churches and chapels, and I never went to 
 one place twice within a month. I have heard 
 every preacher in London where there's a crowded 
 congregation. Tou never make a great haul like 
 you can at a racecourse or a rail station, but still 
 a very good tMng is to be done, and a man may 
 earn a living.' 
 
 Here was a man speaking of pocket-picking 
 and earning a living as if it was a recognised and 
 legitimate trade. He told me a great deal of who 
 he considered the best preachers, and discussed 
 their different styles; alstf about High and Low 
 Church; but there was nothing either interesting 
 or edifying in anything he said. He was a veiy 
 ordinary type of the London pickpocket. 
 
 Old Smith, the nian I have already alluded to 
 as offering his services to the chief warder as 
 secretary or vdleb de chamhre, really was a most 
 amusing old fellow, though fearfully coarse. He 
 was by trade a maker of some delicate and intri- 
 cate tools or articles used by the Spitalfields silk 
 manufacturers in what is termed • throwing ' the 
 E 
 
242 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 silk, and was a most skilful and excellent work- 
 man. He could, if he chose to be honest and 
 steady, earn from 2>l. to 4?. a week, and had 
 received an offer from some silk firm, when he 
 came out of one of his former laggings, to go 
 abroad for them; but, unfortunately, honest courses 
 were too slow for him. He vowed, however, that 
 this time he would go to America, where he knew 
 he could get good wages, and try to be satisfied 
 with ' straight ' work. 
 
 He seems to have availed himself of the ser- 
 vices of the fair sex, and always had some woman 
 living with him who worked with him in one or 
 other of his dishonest ways. Once, when he was 
 speaking of ' his old woman ' for the time being, 
 I asked if she was a ' crooked ' one too. 
 
 * Oh, yes,' he replied ; 'I never had nothin' to 
 do with any "moll" who couldn't cut her own 
 grass.' 
 
 ' Cut her own grass ! Good gracious, what is 
 that?' I asked. 
 
 ' Why, purvide her own chump — earn her own 
 living,' the old man replied. 
 
 He spoke of this particular lady with great 
 regret, and as having been quite a proficient. 
 
Dartmoor. 24; 
 
 ' I used to go with her a.s " stall." Don't yer 
 know what a " stall" is? Why, to be convenient, 
 handylike in the way to stow the "fonlcher" 
 when she's nobbled it. Lor, she were a rare un ! 
 I've know'd her just walk in at one door of Swan 
 and Edgar's and look at a thing or two, and come 
 out with a foulcher, with flimsies and couters for 
 a score of quid in it. She were, a fine woman, 
 and togged like a lady right up to the knocker 
 —I never did meet with the like of her. We 
 once went together to Cowes regatta, and blessed 
 if going over in the steamer from Southampton 
 if she didn't lift a swell of his russia with flimsies 
 for 300Z. in it. She gave me the office, and I soon 
 had it. She returned at once in the next boat, 
 and I quietly walked about till another one 
 started, and in the meantime took a chance 
 to overhaul what she'd nobbled. What! try it 
 on to sling my hook after a few foulchers and 
 tickers when I knowed I'd 300 quid safe P — 
 not I. I went into a public, and slipped away 
 to the rear; there I opened the swell's russia, 
 took out the sweet little flimsies, and stowed 
 them safe; then I got' a few stones off the 
 beach. As we was a-going back in the boat to 
 K 2 
 
244 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Southampton I quietly dropped a little parcel 
 over for the fishes. It was the swell's russia — a 
 russia, you know, is a pocket-book — with, them 
 there stones off the beach, to take it safe down to 
 the bottom. They sort of things are very danger- 
 ous to keep. What did I do with the flimsies? 
 Well, I'll tell you. I went straight up to town 
 by the first train, and soon found out the old 
 woman. When I told her there was 300 quid she 
 was pleased. I proposed we should go and have 
 a booze. Not a bit — she wouldn't let me even 
 smell a drain more than I'd had. We went down- 
 to a bloke I knew up in one of the streets lead- 
 ing off the Euston Road who did a little on the 
 " cross " now and again, to see what he'd stand 
 for the 300?. He offered 200L WeU, as it was 
 her catch I thought as I'd consult along of her 
 whether we should take the 200Z. " No," says she, 
 " we've got some more besides that, and enough 
 too, to take us to France. Blowed, old man, if we 
 don't go to Paris, and there we can get 300?. for 
 them." WeU she could do the French's patter, as 
 she'd been there afore, when she was living on 
 the "square." She were a she-flunkey, lady's 
 maid, once — that's how she know'd all about 
 
Dartmoor. 245 
 
 being a swell lady. Oh, she was a buster too ! 
 Well, we started next day, after shutting up the 
 crib where we hung out, and we did very well in 
 Paris for two months. I came across some Eng- 
 lish sporting blokes as was attending on some 
 swell cove's racehorses over there for their races, 
 and we had a blooming fine time of it ; but I 
 wanted to get back ; I'd had enough of foreign 
 patter and ways, so I told the old girl we'd best 
 hook it. She'd a-stayed on if I'd a-let her, and 
 I'm blooming sorry I didn't, for the very next 
 day as we got back to London she went up to 
 some of the swell streets at the West End to see 
 another moll, a pall of hers, and they went some- 
 where together. Well, when they was in a shop 
 this pall of hern got slinging her hook after a 
 swell moll's ticker, and made such a blooming hash 
 of it that she was bowled out at once. They 
 called in the coppers, and some feller in the shop 
 twigged my old girl as one he'd a-seen before, and 
 blessed if they didn't identify her as having 
 lifted some things out of the shop, and she 
 was pinched for seven " stretch." Ah, she was 
 a stunner too, she were. I were sorry for her. 
 No, I never see her again. You see when her 
 
246 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 time would haye been up I was doing my ten, and 
 of course a moll like her would not be long before 
 she'd get a another blote to tate up with her.' 
 
 I once asked Smith if he was ever married, for^^^ 
 somehow we frequently got paired and walked 
 together. 
 
 ' No,' he replied, ' I never took to a moll ex- 
 cept on tally. When one or other of us gets tired 
 we can hook it. I once had a old woman as lived 
 with me for two year, and she were an out and 
 outer in going into shops on the filch. It was 
 when them big crinolines was wore. She'd smug 
 a whole piece of silk and stow it under her petti- 
 coats and walk off as easy as I'd swallow a glass 
 •of " tape." Don't know what tape is ? Why, gin. 
 She'd a crinoline made on purpose; it had a 
 strong leather belt round the waist, and the first 
 three rows of steel hoops was very strong, and 
 joined to the leather belt by strong steel bands. 
 These here bands and hoops where they joined 
 each other had a sharp strong hook underneath. . 
 There were an opening in her skirt somewhere 
 frontways, and anything she once put her grapples 
 on she slipped inside and hung it on one of the 
 little steel hooks and walked off. Didn't it show? 
 
Dartmoor. 247 
 
 Of course it didn't — it Hung down inside the hoops 
 and never show'd a morsel. I've gone and met 
 her to take the stuff, and she has had four and 
 sometimes five things hanging there, and toddled 
 ' iilong as if there was nothing but herself inside 
 
 her togs.' 
 
248 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 DAKTMOOE. 
 
 After I had been at Dartmoor about six months 
 I was one day sent for to the chief warder's office. 
 On entering he informed me that a gentleman 
 had come down from London to see me on some 
 matters of business with which I had been an 
 interested party before I got into the terrible 
 mess that brought me to ruin and Dartmoor. 
 
 He took me into the Receiving Room, where 
 I and the thirty-nine others from Millbank had- 
 undergone our examination em huffe. Here I 
 was very grieved to have to meet a man I had 
 known when occupying a respectable position in 
 the outer world. To be seen in my degraded 
 dress, cropped and shorn, by a man I had last 
 met under such different circumstances was a 
 trial I did not care for, and would have avoided if 
 
Dartmoor. 249 
 
 I possibly could, at almost any cost. It made me 
 feel afresh the terrible fall in my position, and 
 reopened the wounds in my troubled heart. I 
 dreaded he would express pity and sympathy for 
 my troubles and position, and my soul perfectly 
 revolted at the bare idea of being pitied. 
 
 My visitor was a gentleman and a man of tact, 
 and I think he guessed my feelings, for he never, 
 in the slightest way, alluded to present circum- 
 stances, but, meeting me as of old and shaking 
 hands, explained at once the purport of his visit. 
 He at once plunged into all the intricacies and 
 details of an extensive and complicated matter of 
 business in which I had been jointly interested 
 with other parties at the time of my trouble and 
 disgrace. The chief warder was present the whole 
 time, though he behaved excessively well, and kept 
 so much in the background that I entirely forgot 
 he was in the room. I think my visitor hardly 
 noticed his being there ; yet he was an attentive 
 listener, and for the first time he knew I was a 
 different class of man from the usual run of those 
 under his charge. 
 
 After my visitor had departed, the chief 
 warder entered into conversation with me, and 
 
250 Five Years' Penal Servitude^ 
 
 very kindly offered to do anything in his power, 
 compatible with his duty and the prison rules, to 
 put me in a better position. He asked me if I 
 would like to go into the infirmary as a hospital 
 orderly, explaining that I should there hate many 
 opportunities of getting better food. I thanked 
 him very much, and, declining to accept that, I 
 asked him — 
 
 ' Would you allow me, sir, to take the shirt 
 board in the tailors' shop ? The man Larry is 
 going away in a month, as his time is up, and 
 I should like that better than mending prison 
 clothes.' 
 
 ' Tes, you can have that, no doubt,' he replied. 
 ' I wUl speak to the master tailor about it at 
 once.' 
 
 He was as good as his word, and very promptly 
 too. That visit was a most fortunate thing for 
 me, as it made the most powerful man in the 
 whole prison my firm friend. 
 
 The reader wUl already have gathered from 
 
 what I have said that the governor. Captain B , 
 
 was but a popinjay in office. He had as much to 
 do with the management of the prison as a 
 Russian cavalry colonel has to do with the navi- 
 
Dartmoor. 251 
 
 gation of tlie man-of-war lie is, through. Court 
 interest, appointed to the command of. 
 
 The chief warder was everything here, and 
 was a man quite capable of ruling all under his 
 charge. He was a soldier and a strict disciplina- 
 rian, but was very just ; and, although I know men 
 disliked him, and especially many of the officers, yet 
 
 everyone respected him. Captain B 's whole 
 
 time being devoted to his toilet and other amuse- 
 ments, he left the work of the prison to do itself. 
 Luckily there was an efficient man as chief 
 warder. I do not think the deputy. Captain A — ^, 
 quite liked the whole practical direction of affairs 
 being left to the chief; but if he had put himself 
 forward and asserted more authority it would have 
 had the effect of putting his superior officer. 
 
 Captain B , in an awkward position. He was a 
 
 vigilant man himself, and though he said so little 
 nothing ever escaped him. He evidently saw that 
 the chief was an admirable administrator, and 
 that everything under his management went on 
 efficiently and well; Had they not have done so 
 
 I believe Captain A would have very soon taken 
 
 proper steps that they should. The higher autho- 
 rities were quite aware both of how matters were 
 
252 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 going on and of the value of tlie man who was 
 chief warder, and when he was appointed to the 
 governorship of the gaol at Barbadoes they could 
 not have selected a better man. Just before he left 
 
 for the West Indies Captain B was removed 
 
 to Chatham, and a man appointed in his place 
 who needed no one to rule for him, but was as 
 efficient a man as the chief. He at once took his 
 position, and I think it was a lucky coincidence 
 that the West India appointment turned up just 
 at the right time, as perhaps the chief would not 
 have liked to have had a governor over him who 
 asserted his own authority, after so long having 
 ruled supreme. He was a good disciplinarian 
 and a soldier, and he may very likely have quietly 
 fallen into his position of subordinate and mat- 
 ters have gone on pleasantly; but then he may not 
 have done so; so it was a good thing for all parties 
 his being appointed to Barbadoes. Evidently the 
 
 new governor. Major H , approved of his Heu- 
 
 tenant's system, as he made no changes. 
 
 The successor to the chief was a very different 
 man. He came from Chatham, where he had 
 been noted as a bullying principal. He was 
 always shouting to ^me one, and very fond of 
 
Dartmoor. 253 
 
 trying to say funny things and make jokes. 
 Wliat the prison would have been with him and 
 
 Captain B together I should be sorry to predict. 
 
 Luckily Major H looked sharp after eveiy- 
 
 thing, and the discipline of the place was kept up. 
 It was not long before every man in the prison, 
 ofBcers and men, had a very wholesome respect 
 for the Major; while the new chief warder was 
 more often spoken of as ' Sam ' than by his official 
 title. 
 
 I said the chief must have lost, no time in 
 speaking to Jemmy, for the very next morning 
 when we went up to work I was called into the 
 cutting-rOom. 
 
 'Oh, I want to promote you,' said Jemmy, 
 with one of his laughs. ' That man Larry is going 
 away soon, and I think you had better go over to 
 his bay and help him, and then you will learn the 
 duties and be able to take his board. Do you 
 think you can manage it?' 
 
 ' Yes, sir ; I am much obliged to you, and have 
 no doubt I shall be able to do all that is required.' 
 
 No little commotion and buzzing took place 
 throughout the whole shop as Jemmy walked me 
 up to Larry's table. 
 
254 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 'Here, Larry,* here's a man to help you -with 
 your work. You seem to be growing your fea- 
 thers, and as soon as they're long enough I sup- 
 pose you wiU he flying away; so let this man 
 know all about taking your work when you go.' 
 
 Witherby stared with aU his eyes and then re- 
 lapsed into his usual dreamy suUenness. I expect 
 at least a dozen men who had intended to ask for 
 the biQet were disappointed, and the whole gang 
 were surprised. I was about the very last man 
 they aU thought would have been appointed. 
 
 ' Well, you worked that little fakement in a 
 blooming quiet way, I'm blowed if you havn't,' 
 said my late neighbour, the Arab, when I went 
 over to the bay to get my needles, thimbles, &c. 
 
 No one had the very remotest idea of the real 
 state of the case and little suspected, when the 
 chief warder marched through as usual and passed 
 me at the board without even turning his eyes in 
 my direction, that he was the real motive-power 
 that had worked the little oracle and transferred 
 me from one side of the rqpm, in a constantly sit- 
 ting position, to the opposite side, where I could 
 stand, sit, or walk about pretty well as I liked. 
 I appreciated and enjoyed the change greatly, 
 
Dartmoor. 255 
 
 and I am quite sure my general health benefited 
 by it. 
 
 I found there was plenty for me to do, and be- 
 fore Larry had been gone ten days I began to 
 discover there were many little disagreeables con- 
 nected with the appointment. The men would 
 scamp their work ; and when I took upon myself 
 to find fault and to reject articles, returning them 
 to be properly done, they were neither blessings 
 or compliments I received. I was quite aware, 
 from the difference of the work brought in by some 
 men in Larry's time, when first I went to the 
 table, -and what they brought to me, thinking I 
 should pass anything, that it was just a try-on. 
 Their unparliamentary mutterings did not affect 
 me in the least, and when they found I meant to 
 do my duty in the position they gave it up as a 
 bad job. A man brings in say a dozen or fifteen 
 shirts as repaired. I look them over and either 
 pass or reject them. If I pass any that are not 
 properly done— one or two places not mended, a 
 button or two missing — the deficiencies are sure to 
 be discovered when they are sorted and rolled up 
 into bundles in the washhouse, and back they 
 would come with complaints. There is no possible 
 
256 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 means of telling who repaired them. Every 
 mother's son of the men would stand out till he 
 was black in the face that he never saw the shirt, 
 I had no excuse that I did not examine it. So 
 as soon as they found I meant what was right they 
 desisted, and we aU went on smoolMy. 
 
 Among my shirt-menders I had both the 
 Reverends that came from Newgate with me, and 
 about a month or two after Larry's departure a 
 very noted character was removed from Ports- 
 mouth to Dartmoor and was introduced one morn- 
 ing into the tailors' shop to be set to work darning 
 stockings. This was an old Jew, over seventy 
 years of age, named Moses Moses. I foand that 
 all or nearly aU the professional thieves not only 
 knew him by sight but to speak to, and many of 
 them had in former days 'done business' with 
 him. They spoke of him as ' Old Mo,' and seemed 
 to look up to him with a certain amount of awe 
 and respect, like the subjects of a deposed and 
 exiled monarch. 
 
 He had been a notorious 'fence' — one of the 
 most extensive purchasers of stolen goods in Lon- 
 don. The seizure of his warehouse in the neighbour- 
 hood of the Minories some of my elder readers will 
 
Dartmoor, 257 
 
 doubtless remember, also bis trial and sentence to 
 twenty years' penal servitude — a sentence be wiU, 
 I hardly expect, ever live to complete, tbougb be 
 was a bale, bearty old fellow, and bis motber, 
 nearer to 100 tban 90 years of age, was tben alive. 
 His great grief was tbe idea be sbould never see 
 bis motber again. I have walked witb bim 
 several times and found bim a very intelligent 
 old fellow and very civil, but be tnew at once I 
 was not one of bis ' cbildren,' and 1 could never 
 get bim to speak of any matters connected witb 
 bis particular line of business. To otbers, tbose 
 wbose banker and ' consignee ' be bad been in tbe 
 outer world, be would cbatter gaily and enter witb 
 great gusto into tbe details of some cleverly exe- 
 cuted 'bit of business,' or 'bilking tbe blues,' — 
 evading tbe police. 
 
 Many cbanges used to take place in tbe tailors' 
 gang. If men did not conduct tbemselves pro- 
 perly. Jemmy bad a very quiet way of relieving 
 bimself from any trouble witb tbem. He simply 
 applied to tbe cbief warder, and tbe contumacious 
 prisoner was transferred to one of the gangs on 
 tbe bogs. Men would themselves sometimes re- 
 quest to go to out-door labour for a time, parti- 
 S 
 
258 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 cularly in summer, finding the confinement of tlie 
 ' shop ' too much for them. Others again belong- 
 ing to outside gangs would ' interview ' the chief 
 warder and beg to be placed in the tailors' work- 
 shop. 
 
 One day, among a batch of new men brought 
 into our gang, I noticed a celebrated 'gentle- 
 man cracksman,' and in the same batch came 
 up another man, a tail cadaverous-looking 
 fellow, whose case created considerable public 
 excitement at the time. He was convicted for 
 stealing some valuable rings and other articles 
 of jewellery belonging to a noble marchioness, 
 at a fashionable West End hotel. I never had 
 any chance of speaking to him, and therefore 
 did not hear from him any version of the affair, 
 but from the prisoners I heard that he always 
 anathematised her ladyship as a jilt, if not some- 
 thing worse, and stated the rings were given 
 to him as a gaga d'a/mour. He was a veiy little 
 while in the tailors' shop before he was received 
 into the infirmary, and shortly after his admission 
 there, a hospital warder, coming to my table for 
 an old shirt, told me he was dead, and I looked 
 otit from among a lot of shirts I had put on one 
 
Dartmoor. 259 
 
 side for condemnation and tearing up, one which 
 was used for the poor fellow's shroud. 
 
 I one day asked a man who had the reputation 
 of being a most expei-t hand at ' slinging his hook,' 
 or picking pockets, as well as doing the three card 
 and other tricks of a similar kind, if the hard work 
 of prison did not spoil his hands for delicate mani- 
 pulations. 
 
 * Oh, bless you, no ! ' he replied, ' a few bread 
 and water poultices followed by wearing well 
 greased gloves will set that all to rights. In a 
 week or two a man can bring his hooks and feelers 
 into full working trim again and no mistake.' 
 
 After I had been a few months at the shirt- 
 board, I had been engaged in sweeping up shop 
 with three others, when Jemmy came out of his 
 cutting-room and called me to him, 
 
 ' Do you think you could manage to cut out 
 prison clothes from patterns? Daniels has got 
 into trouble, and is " run in." He's sure to be 
 sent on the bogs. If you think you can do it, I 
 will promote you to the job.' 
 
 Jemmy always called it promoting a man when 
 he remov^ him from one work to another. Some- 
 s2 
 
26o Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 times his promotion had a downward tendency, 
 instead of upward. 
 
 I told him I would try, and had no doubt I 
 should succeed. 
 
 The next morning little Daniels did not appear. 
 He had been walked off to No. 1, the punishment 
 cells. I took up my position at the prison cutting- 
 board, and my old place — the shirts and repairs 
 — was given to one of the reverends — Stanley, the 
 one who drew too many cheques. 
 
 My duties now consisted of cutting out pri- 
 soners' clothes of every description, of which a 
 large number are made at Dartmoor for the other 
 convict establishments, where they have only small 
 tailors' shops for repairs. I also ' fixed up ' the 
 trimmings, linings, &c., for the best work on the 
 board, consisting of ofScers' uniforms and new 
 clothes for prisoners on discharge, all of which 
 Jemmy himself cut out. 
 
 "When the second winter was coming round, 
 and on one of the first ' severe ' days, I saw my 
 old friend A., who was working in Sergeant- 
 Major Dick's gang, dragging away at the 
 cart, coupled to it, with several others, like 
 cattle. I made an opportunity to speak to him 
 
Dartmoor. 261 
 
 and say, ' Why do you not try and get into the 
 tailors' shop before the winter. See the chief and 
 ast him.' 
 
 In about a week's time it was with no little 
 satisfaction that I saw him march up and join our 
 gang on parade, followed by an assistant warder, 
 who called to our officer, 'Mr. Witherby. One 
 man! ' 
 
 * One man, sir, all right,' replied the gloomy 
 warder; and that morning A. was put to shirt- 
 mendiug. I need not say we got together in walk- 
 ing as soon and as often as we could. We compared 
 notes, and endeavoured to console each other under 
 our great trouble. As soon as Witherby saw that 
 we sought each other's colnpany, he did all he 
 could to frustrate our getting together, and very 
 frequently — too frequently, I am sorry to say — 
 succeeded. 
 
 There was an old man, about sixty, among the 
 shirt-menders, who had for a long while attracted 
 my notice. He was a remarkably handsome man, 
 and had a certain manner with him that was 
 rather aristocratic. A. and I both named him the 
 ' Earl,' He might have been taken for an old 
 nobleman. When, however, I came to speak with 
 
262 Five Years^ Penal Servitude. 
 
 Mm, the illusion was instantly dispelled. His 
 language dispelled the illusion created by his 
 appearance. He had formerly been gentleman's 
 servant and butler in many situations, and after 
 a time became one of a gang who practised with 
 the '■ Broads ' card-sharping and the ' confidence 
 trick.' He had always been the decoy bird. Got 
 up in faultless style, he, no doubt, looked quite 
 the old country gentleman, with his fine forehead 
 and bald head, grey hair, and most perfect aqui- 
 line nose ; his profile, in fact, was as fine as one 
 would wish to see. He used to get into situations 
 as butler, &c., on false characterSj to sound a 
 place with a view of ' putting up a good thing,' in 
 the shape of a robbery by others with whom he 
 was in correspondence. He had also travelled on 
 the Continent with a family with the deliberate 
 view of arranging with confederates for the 
 robbery of their luggage, or such portion of it as 
 contained jewellery and valuables ; but he said no 
 chance ever occurred ' at a right place.' He told 
 me one day that there was one thing he had done 
 that had haunted him day and night since, and 
 lay very heavy on his conscience. It was a heart- 
 less, cruel robbery on his part, and had brought 
 
Dartmoor. 263 
 
 ill-luck on Mm ever since. Before that occurred 
 he had never been in ' limbo.' 
 
 In one of the western suburbs of London he 
 fell in with an old pensioner, near on to eighty 
 years of age, who had been that day to receive his 
 quarter's pension of 5?., on which he and his old 
 wife managed to live, with a little help from a 
 married daughter. Temple — that was the old 
 Earl's name — says the devil tempted him to get 
 the old man's five pounds. He did not want it. 
 He had plenty of money just then, having done 
 well with his pals just before at some of the great 
 races. 
 
 " It was the devil, I'm sure,' said Temple,' and 
 nothing else that got hold of me that day. I fell 
 into conversation with the old chap, who told me 
 his missus was waiting at home for him to bring 
 the money; that he never spent any on his way 
 home, but took it to her just as he got it, and 
 then they had a quiet little treat together for 
 their tea on the strength of its being pay-day. 
 He said they had to be very careful to make it 
 last out, as, after all, it wasn't much for two old 
 souls to grub along in liiis world with. Well, I 
 was determined to ease the old boy of his blunt ; 
 
264 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 so I asked him to come and have a drain, and we 
 went into a house and sat down. Then I got him 
 into conversation, and asked him if he was sure 
 he had his money all safe. " Oh, yes," he said. 
 " See, here it^is," and pulled out an old bit of a 
 leather bag and showed me. That was all I 
 wanted. I'd several sovs — good ones — with me, 
 and also a whole lot of " duffers." I always car- 
 ried, to look like plenty of cash — ^little things like 
 whist counters, with a Queen's head on one side, 
 and looking just like sovereigns. 
 
 ' The old boy's hands were very shaky, and the 
 glass I had stood him, and which he wasn't used 
 to, made him a bit sleepy, and he fumbled at 
 doing up the bag ; so I offered to do it for him. 
 I did. I palmed his sovs into my pocket, and 
 gave him five duffers in their place. I showed 
 him they were all right, and counted them and 
 did up the purse, which he carefully stowed away 
 in the bottom of his breast-coat pocket, where, 
 also, he had aU his papers to show he was the 
 right man to receive the pension. Then we came 
 out of the house, and I left him at a corner df a 
 street, standing by a post and with his face turned 
 towards his home. An hour afterwards I was 
 
Dartmoor. 265 
 
 sorry I had done it. It was such a heartless 
 thing. I fancied the old people finding the five 
 shiners were only duffers, and tried to think how 
 they would get on till next pension day. I never 
 thought to ask the old chap where he lived, or I 
 would have gone back and given him his money 
 again. I thought of going to the neighbourhood 
 and making enquiries, but then I fancied he might 
 have made his loss known, and be looking about 
 with a copper. I might be pinchfed, so I didn't 
 go; and it has played the devil with me ever 
 since, for I have never had any luck, and it has 
 haunted me day and night. I wake up sometimes 
 and see the old chap standing at the foot of my 
 bed as he did at the post.' 
 
 I believe that Temple was perfectly sincere, 
 and that he bitterly and sincerely repented of his 
 past life, and more particularly the robbery of the 
 old pensioner. 
 
 I heard from him a good deal about ' putting 
 up.' It is -quite a system, and most artfully 
 carried out. A certain house is supposed to be 
 worth 'cracking.' To do this it is necessary to 
 know all about it, not only what amount of plate 
 or other valuables there may be there, but where 
 
266 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 it is kept, the habits of the family, and who they 
 consist of. A plan of the house is necessary also, 
 and perhaps even duplicate keys. All this infor- 
 mation can only be obtained from some one who 
 is a resident in the house. One way is for some 
 fellow to make love to one of the women servants, 
 but the best plan, and that most usually pursued 
 is to ' plant ' some one into the house if possible : 
 to get either a man or a woman engaged as 
 servant, who can ' work ' it properly. There are 
 quite as many women in these things as men. 
 raise characters are easUy managed. A very 
 short residence in the house will teU Maria or 
 John Thomas i£ the ' thing is to be done or not,' 
 also if the ' swag ' is worth the trying for. Some- 
 times it will take months before it can be perfectly 
 worked, before the party, man or woman working 
 it, can get the opportunity of seeing and knowing 
 all they want. Some people keep their plate- 
 chests in a bedroom. Here John Thomas cannot 
 very well get access to it, unless he gets over the 
 housemaid, so that it is necessary to get a woman 
 into the house. 
 
 Many months are sometimes occupied in the 
 details of a good 'put up.' It has to be as 
 
Dartmoor. 267 
 
 systematically set about and carried on as the 
 siege of a town. When the time arrives, and all is 
 prepared, it comes to be an important question 
 wJiether the servant, after getting all the infor- 
 mation, plans of house, and perhaps impressions 
 of the keys, from which duplicate ones are made 
 by skilled hands, shall remain in the house at the 
 time the job is done, or shall leave previously ; if 
 so, the leaving must be brought about in a way 
 not to excite suspicion. Parties who go into a 
 situation for this special service are invariably 
 ' scrupulously honest.' They never, in fact, spoil 
 a good game by being tempted into taking any- 
 thing that may be laying about. The inmates 
 never lose anything by pilfering, and they get to 
 have great confidence in the very servants who 
 are scheming and diplomatising all the time for a 
 fitting opportunity to ' clean them out.' If the 
 reader will call to mind such details as come to 
 the public knowledge of most of the great robberies, 
 he will see that the thieves have taken copy fi:om 
 their enemies the police, and h;ive always acted 
 in consequence ' of information I received.' 
 
 Of late years there have been several jewel 
 robberies ; some from the house, and some from 
 
268 Five Years Penal Servihide. 
 
 the luggage at the railway stations. How is it 
 possible that the thieves should know exactly the 
 hour when My Lady and her guests should be 
 at dinner; and the bed-rooms all empty, with the 
 valuables lying ready to hand ? How is the party 
 * operating ' to know which of the boxes, bags 
 or portmanteaus it is among the piles of lug- 
 gage on the railway platform, that contains the 
 precious booty. We seldom read of a robbery of 
 one or more packages at a railway station, from 
 a lot of luggage, the contents of which are value- 
 less, and of the dressing-case or the portmanteau 
 containing it, in which My Lady's diamonds are 
 snugly enconsed, being left behind. No, no, 
 before the thieves * sling their hooks,' they make 
 quite sure of which is the fish worth hooking. I 
 have asked men the question. Are not some of 
 you known to the police ? * Yes, some are, but 
 then a policeman never interferes till something 
 has been done ; he cannot very well take a fellow 
 up on suspicion.' No, but he can put people on 
 their guard. When do we ever read of the police 
 preventing a robbery— mewer. During the weeks 
 or months that the siege is going on, the plans 
 are working, do the police ever « drop upon ' the 
 
Dartmoor. 269 
 
 parties and frustrate their plans ? Even if tliey 
 have a suspicion they seldom or ever act upon it, 
 or put the victims on their guard. They can be 
 active enough in hunting down a poor fellow who, 
 with a ' licence,' as a ticket-of-leave is called, is 
 trying hard to get a living by honest means, and 
 so drive him into dishonest courses. 
 
 There was a young fellow told me once that 
 he left prison with a year's licence from a former 
 lagging, and he tried all he could to work 
 ' square.' His wish was to be honest, but the 
 coppers or police would not give him half a 
 chance. At every place he got into work they 
 were down on him. A policeman would call on 
 the employer, ' Do you know you are employing a 
 discharged convict. Sir ? So-and-so in your ser- 
 vice is a ticket-of-leave man.' In nineteen cases 
 out of twenty the servant either gets immediately 
 discharged, or quietly receives notice the next 
 day that his services will not be wanted. 
 
 The young man I speak of lost several places 
 in a similar way. At last he made up his mind 
 he would try his luck in America, but he wanted 
 a few pounds for his passage. While thinking of 
 this he saw a gentleman whose watch temptingly 
 
270 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 offered the means of his emigrating. He listened 
 to the tempter, ' filched the ticker,' and was nailed 
 almost immediately. Previotis conviction was 
 proved, and he got ten years. 
 
 If the police would leave a ticket-of-leave man 
 alone, so long as he was working or trying to work 
 honestly, a great number would never return to evil 
 courses. By all means let the detectives keep such 
 a man under their eye, and watch him if they 
 like, but don't turn him out of his honest employ- 
 ment. They can very soon know if he is going 
 'cross' or 'square.' Nothing is easier than to 
 know who his companions are. A man intent on 
 being honest will shun his old associates as if they 
 had the plague. If they would give information 
 that would put people on their guard against 
 these plans and manoeuvres, and denounce the 
 people who, in many instances, they know per- 
 fectly well are after no good, they would be far 
 more profitably employed than hunting down the 
 honestly inclined. It seems to me that the police 
 do not think it comes within the scope of their 
 duty to prevent a robbery— it is not till it has 
 taken place that their services are required. 
 
 In the case of the great gold-dust robbery 
 
Dartmoor. 271 
 
 some years ago, on the South Eastern Railway, 
 Agar, the man who effected it, was working in 
 league with others for months, and yet the police 
 not only could not, ajid did not, prevent it, but 
 after it was done they never found it out. A rob- 
 bery of a large amount of valuable scrip shares 
 and stock has lately been effected on the route 
 between London and Paris ; it is almost a certainty 
 about that having been put up. That some of the 
 police themselves are corruptible there can be no 
 doubt. Do not recent prosecutions of celebrated 
 detectives prove that it is only a question of 
 ' price ' with them ? Sir Eobert Walpole said that 
 everyone had his price, and that every woman was 
 to be bought if you knew her price. He never 
 knew but one woman who refused gold, and she 
 took diamonds. I have a better opinion of the 
 women of our country of the present day than to 
 think this true, but I am pretty sure it is true 
 enough as to the police. Many of them levy black 
 mail from thieves, and the number of things that 
 are ' squared ' between thieves and police would 
 astonish the British public if they were all brought 
 to light. 
 
 It is a curious fact, I am told by those ' who 
 
272 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 know,' but a policeman is seldom on a night beat 
 for very long before he ' finds ' a watch and chain. 
 At any rate, he gets one. Let the reader take 
 note of the number of police that have watches 
 and chains. Are these all the result of savings 
 out of the liberal (9) wages a policeman gets, or are 
 they, as prisoners have told me, the proceeds of 
 blind eyes, deaf ears, and silent tongues ? I can- 
 not give an opinion myself. Let the inquisitive 
 reader try and ascertain. 
 
 I have had several men ask me what I intended 
 to do when released from prison, and have had all 
 sorts of schemes proposed to me to join in. Two 
 men who were in the association room with me, 
 and whose time would expire a few weeks after 
 mine, were most- urgent for me to join them in 
 the very lucrative game of illicit distillation, to 
 supply publicans with strong, raw spirit. No 
 doubt in the world it is a very paying game till 
 discovered, and I dare say is carried on to a much 
 greater extent than the public are aware of. 
 
 Let not the reader suppose it is done in some 
 wretched hovel in Whitechapel or Bethnal Green. 
 No, the plan proposed to tne was to take a highly 
 respectable villa at St. John's Wood. This locality 
 
Dartmoor. 273 
 
 was preferred on account of so many of the houses 
 being snugly surrounded with walls. In such a 
 house at the ordinary kitchen fire a sufficient 
 quantity of spirits can be run off to make it pay 
 well. The difficulty, it appears, is to get the raw 
 material, sugar, &c., into the house without excit- 
 ing suspicion. There seems to be none whatever 
 in taking the spirits out and delivering them to 
 the publicans, my informant telling me they used 
 leather-covered tin cans made to represent port- 
 manteaus and black leather hand-bags, containing 
 about two gallons each, which is quite enough to 
 supply the publican with each day, and are not 
 too heavy to be carried in the hand without sus- 
 picion. 
 
 The establishment of a loan office was also 
 proposed to me ; and one man, an Austrian, sadly 
 wanted me to join him in a quiet game of defraud- 
 ing jewellers, pawnbrokers, and others in a most 
 ingenious way. He was a lapidary by trade, and 
 a very skilful one too. Most jewellers and pawn- 
 brokers are well acquainted with what are called 
 * doublets.' These are rubies or emeralds made of 
 two pieces. The face is a real ruby, emerald, or 
 sapphire, as the case may be, and this is backed 
 T 
 
274 Fi'i'^ Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 up by a piece of coloured glass, which is fastened 
 on in the first instance with Venice turpentine, 
 and then secured by the setting. The glass im- 
 proves the stone by throwing more colour into it, 
 and doublets are very common. They are imme- 
 diately detected by means of a file, which wiU not 
 make any impression on the face of the stone, but 
 the glass at the back it scratches directly. My 
 Austrian tempter, however, could manufacture 
 ' triplets,' and these, when skilfully done, particu- 
 larly in sapphires, are impossible to be detected 
 by the file test. A triplet is made as foUows : — 
 Two colourless topazes are prepared for the back 
 and the front. Between these is neatly placed a 
 piece of blue glass, and the three are stuck toge- 
 ther with Venice turpentine. I need hardly say 
 the workmanship must needs be first-rate. Sap- 
 phires answer best, because the topazes absorb 
 blue better than any other colour. By a little 
 clever manipulation the turpentine by which the 
 pieces are joined together actually is made to 
 represent a flaw or feather in the stone, thus 
 making it look more like real than it would be 
 possible to do with one single piece. Thus the 
 back as well as the front being of hard stone and 
 
Dartmoor. 275 
 
 unimpressionable by a file, that test is of no use, 
 and if applied only 'tends to confirm the idea that 
 the stone is genuine. 
 
 Now for the masterpiece of the proposed 
 swindle. These sapphires are set in rings, 
 brooches, and other ornaments, surrounded by 
 brilliants of as pure water as can possibly be got. 
 In the diamonds there is no deception — they are 
 genuine and good. No one who knows anything 
 of stones is dfeceived for one instant in a brilliant, 
 but seeing a fine-lookiag sapphire handsomely set 
 in very high class brilliants, the jeweller or other 
 victim is completely thrown off his guard. It is 
 utterly impossible to detect the fraud but in one 
 way: taking the stone out of the setting and 
 placing it in warm water. The three pieces im- 
 mediately separate, and the swindle is detected. 
 Knowing I was acquainted with many people in 
 good position, he made me most tempting offers 
 to become his salesman, and assured me that pre- 
 vious to his getting into prison for a crime not in 
 any way connected with jewellery he had made 
 ' pots of money ' at it, and ' stuck ' both jewellers 
 and pawnbrokers with them all over the country. 
 I need hardly say I listened to his proposals with 
 t2 
 
276 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 a deaf ear, and I have never seen the man since. 
 This was one of the most ingenious ideas I ever 
 heard of while in prison. 
 
 After I had been at the cutting-board a few 
 months two things happened that at the time 
 I did not like at all : Jemmy gave me another 
 promotion, and I was moved from the cells into 
 the Association Rooms, and so entered on to a 
 completely new phase of prison life. 
 
 A new man had been imported into the tailors' 
 ^ang named Stephens. I recognised his face as 
 ^■having been one of the tower orderlies at Penta- 
 ."gon No. 3, at Millbank — one of the men who 
 -waited upon the officers in the circular tower in 
 the centre of the Pentagon Yard. Somehow he 
 made Jemmy acquainted with the fact that he 
 was used to catting clothes, having been em- 
 ployed in that capacity in some large outfitter's in 
 London. He was a more useful man at the board 
 than I was, as he could help the master tailor 
 himself by cutting many of the officers' things, 
 and just then a large order had come in for 
 officers' top-coats for some of the other prisons. 
 So Jemmy commenced his operations for a change 
 by coming out one day when a dispute was going 
 
Dartmoor. 277 
 
 on between Garibaldi and some of the men on the 
 board abont hot irons. After asking two or three 
 questions Jemmy 'sacked' Garibaldi and sent 
 him to prison clothes-mending. He then called 
 me into his room and said he was going to pro- 
 mote me again, and that he would give me the 
 charge of the stove and the irons. Of course I 
 could not refuse. A slave I was, and as a slave 
 I must obey ; but he saw I did not like it. ' The 
 man at the prison repairs and clothing board will 
 be going home shortly — ^I see he is growing his hair 
 — and you shall have that place, if you like, when 
 he goes.' I thanked him, and said I would take 
 the stove. 
 
 The fact was Jemmy wanted to keep me in 
 good cue, for I went into his room everyday and 
 kept all his stock accounts in order for him. 
 Every piece of cloth, fustian, flannel, or shirting 
 received from the steward's office had to be 
 exactly accounted for and entered into a book, 
 against which was charged the number of gar- 
 ments cut out of it, specifying what they were. 
 Jemmy was a better hand with his shears than 
 his pen, and withal was not a good calculator; 
 so I used to save him a great deal of trouble. 
 
278 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 So long as I was a special man, doing special 
 work, he could call me into his room when he 
 wanted me ; but to do so out of the bay, i£ I was 
 at work mending clothes, would have created some 
 little confusion ; besides, I am quite sure the chief 
 warder had given him particular directions about 
 me. To the irons, therefore, I set to work. The 
 only part I disliked was the attending the fire, 
 which was dirty work. I knew I should only 
 have it for a short time, and that was a comfort. 
 
 The moving from the cells I did not at first 
 like at all ; but afterwards, when I became accus- 
 tomed to it, I would not have gone back to the 
 cells on any account. 
 
 One evening, after tea — I was a second-class 
 and tea-man now — ^Dicks came along the landing, 
 opening several of the cells and mine among the 
 rest. ' Take your sheets, towel, books, and regis- 
 ter-ticket and go down to the hall.' On getting 
 down below I found a lot of men drawn up, 
 all with their sheets, &c., done up into what was 
 called their kit. I was at first alarmed, thinking 
 we were going to be sent to some other station ; 
 but presently the principal told us we were to go 
 
Dartmoor. 279 
 
 to the association rooms in No. 3. Away to 
 No. 3 we marclied. 
 
 There were then four large rooms, under the 
 tailors' shop, fitted up as association rooms. Two 
 were on the ground-floor and two on the first- 
 floor. Each had accommodation for sixty-eight 
 prisoners. The floor of the building was divided 
 down the centre, by a wooden partition, into two 
 long rooms about 100 feet in length by 80 in width. 
 These rooms were divided into three equal por- 
 tions lengthways by two rows of strong wood posts, 
 with rails, 2 feet 6 inches from the ground. The 
 centre portion was the gangway, and the two sides 
 were where the men slung their hammocks at night 
 and sat in the day. Along the walls were shelves 
 — one at the topj 3 feet wide, and one below, 1 foot 
 wide. Below the narrower shelf was a strong 
 wooden rail, 4 feet from the ground; all along 
 the waU, 2 feet 10 inches from the ground, ran 
 a strong 1 inch iron bar, held to the waU by 
 heavy staples and clamps at intervals ; and along 
 the inside of the wooden rail in the middle was a 
 similar 1 inch iron rail. From one rail to the 
 other the hainmoclrs were stretched at night-time 
 for the men to sleep on. In the daytime the 
 
28o Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 hammocks and pillows were rolled up neatly and 
 put on the top shelf, with each man's regular 
 numher fastened on to the edge of the shelf. On 
 the narrow shelf below were placed in regular 
 order each man's tin plate, pint-mug, books, slate, 
 tin knife, and spoon. On the rail below the shelf 
 were hung the " blankets, sheets, and rugs, neatly 
 folded, also in regulation form. When the ham- 
 mocks were all slung down the wall side of the 
 room, along which there were at intervals win- 
 dows about 3 feet square, there were thirty-six in 
 all, with just bare space for a man to stand up 
 between each to dress, and no more. On the 
 opposite side of the room there were only thirty- 
 two men, as in the centre of the building was 
 erected a warming apparatus, going right up 
 through each floor and through the tailors' shop, 
 where it joined the iron stove, and continued to the 
 Toof. The space occupied by this displaced four 
 men ; hence there were only thirty-two on that side 
 of each room. At intervals were tables at which 
 four men could sit, and forms to match. These 
 tables shifted up and down; one end hung on 
 with iron hooks to the hammock rails, and the 
 other was supported by an iron swing trestle. 
 
Dartmoor. 281 
 
 When tak^n down this trestle folded back against 
 the table, which was then placed flat against the 
 wall and the form next to it. Each table accom- 
 modated four men, and the lot was called a bay. 
 In each bay was a bucket with water, in which 
 the men washed their hands and also their tins 
 and utensUs. At one end of the room was a long 
 trough, similar to a horse-trough or manger. 
 This was fitted with taps and plugs, and in it the 
 men all washed their faces and hands. This 
 washing-trough ran right across the end of the 
 room. When the men washed in it in the morn- 
 ing there were two or three taps running with 
 water, and it flowed out as fast as it came in, so 
 that it was not quite so dirty in practice as it 
 seemed at first in theory — sixty-eight men all 
 washing together m one trough. Some men had 
 to be almost driven to the trough to wash at all. 
 With others the struggle was to get, if possible, 
 to one of the taps. It used to be my effort to get 
 there, so as to put my head under it. A latrine 
 and sink were in each room near the trough. The 
 room had a particularly neat and orderly appear- 
 ance when all the hammocks were stowed on the 
 shelves and everything put into its place. Every 
 
282 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 man had his own towel, which he rolled up in a 
 very neat way, with his soap in the middle ; and 
 in addition there was one towel in each bay, to 
 wipe tins. 
 
 There were many disadvantages and also ad- 
 vantages in the rooms as compared with the cells. 
 The chief disadvantage was, that a man had no 
 privacy, was never by himself. I used to miss my 
 wash nearly all over every morning very much. A 
 great deal, of course, depended on the men one 
 was associated with in the bay as to whether there 
 was peace and comfort or otherwise. 
 
 The men selected for the rooms were all well- 
 conducted men, of first and second class. There 
 was much more liberty in the rooms, no doubt, as 
 conversation at the table was general ; and a good 
 deal from one table to another, if not too loud, was 
 winked at by decent warders, if not permitted. 
 There is not the slightest doubt but the rooms 
 are far healthier than the cells. The latter in the 
 morning were close and stuffy; the rooms were 
 never so. The ventilation was good, in fact too 
 good, or rather there was too much of it some- 
 times ; and when the new doctor came he had as 
 many crotchets in his head about ventilation as 
 
Dartmoor. 283 
 
 would haye ruined a Croesus. He was everlast- 
 ingly trying experiments. Thermometers were 
 all over the place; and because at the best of 
 times we had a difficulty in winter from keeping 
 the snow from driving in between the window- 
 frames and the walls, this experimentalising wise- 
 acre must needs have all the upper panes of the 
 windows taken out and perforated ventilating glass 
 put in. The consequence was that after the first 
 snowstorm some of the men had three or four 
 inches of snow on their bed-clothes in the morn- 
 ing, driven in through the ' Doctor's cracks,' as 
 the long slits in the glass were called. He did 
 not touch the cells, that needed fresh air, but with 
 the rooms, where we had difficulty to keep out 
 the wind and rain and snow, he was everlastingly 
 at some new plan. 
 
 At first I did not like the change at all, and 
 thought seriously of interviewing the chief warder 
 and asking to go back to the cells; but I had a 
 Ute-a-tete with him sooner than I expected. 
 
 The moment the men came in from work, in- 
 stead of putting out brooms, as in the cells, for 
 the officer to take the roU, every man stood up 
 with his back to the gangway and facing the 
 
284 Five Years' Penal Servihide. 
 
 shelves immediately in front of his register number 
 under his hammock. The officer then counted the 
 men and reported accordingly. 
 
 Part of my work now, just before leaving the 
 workshop for dinner, was to bank up the fire and 
 fill the oven with irons, to be ready for the men's 
 use after dinner in pressing their work. This, of 
 course, dirtied my hands, and I was anxious to 
 wash them before dinner, and as our men came in 
 before the others I had plenty of time generally. 
 Sometimes, however, the other gangs would be 
 quicker in coming in, and then I had but short 
 time to wash before the roll was taken. I was 
 first of all placed in a ward upstairs, the officer of 
 which was the warder of the cleaning gang, a dis- 
 agreeable old fellow, who thought it a great piece 
 of unnecessary nonsense for me to wash my hands 
 before dinner. 'He never did.' He used to 
 grumble at me every day, but I would still persist 
 in doing it, for if I did not do it before the dinner 
 was served, which took place immediately after the 
 roll was called, I could not do it at all, as no man 
 was allowed to move from his seat during dinner. 
 
 One day he was in a terrible way, and I was 
 not in the best of humours myself, so when he came 
 
Dartmoor. 285 
 
 to me as I was stooping to the backet he said he 
 would not allow any man to wash his hands before 
 dinner — it was all nonsense. 
 
 ' Nonsense or no nonsense, sir, I shall not eat 
 my dinner with dirty hands.' 
 
 ' You shall not wash them ; if you do again 
 I'll report you.' 
 
 ' Perhaps, sir, you will be good enough to put 
 my name down to see the chief this eTening, and 
 I'll ask his permission.' 
 
 The old man glared at me with rage. I was 
 quite in order, and had a perfect right to appeal to 
 Csesar, but it was what he least expected. He 
 looked out for a ' cheeky answer,' a ' bit of lip,' 
 and had I given it to him he would have reported 
 me without fail. 
 
 That evening I saw the chief and explained 
 the matter to him, and asked him to remove me 
 back to the cells. He heard all I had to say very 
 quietly, and said he would rectify it, but as to 
 moving me 'back to the cells he should not do 
 that, as it was considered a privilege to be in the 
 rooms, and only good conduct men were selected 
 for that purpose. He was quite sure I should 
 prefer the rooms after a while. He was right — I 
 
286 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 did prefer them, and finished my time there, but 
 not in that room. 
 
 The nest morning the principal of the prison 
 gave out that any man wishing to wash his hands 
 in the bucket before dinner was at liberty to 
 do so. 
 
 This was a bitter pill for Old Wainwright, the 
 warder, and he thought he had better get rid of 
 me as quickly as possible, so he arranged with 
 the warders of one of the rooms down stairs, A 2, 
 for a transfer, and that evening after supper down 
 I went, with my sheets and kit under my arm. 
 
 The first thing I noticed was my friend A at 
 
 the adjoining table, and in other bays were several 
 I had known a little of since I had been in mis- 
 fortune. I had for messmates three men of very 
 different characters. One was a shocking fellow 
 with a wooden leg, whom we christened Peggy, 
 He was doing his third or fourth lagging, and if 
 he lives long enough wiU do four or five more. 
 He was what Artemus Ward calls a most ' amusin' 
 old cuss,' but an awful old sinner — a regular bad 
 one. He sat next to me, and during the whole time 
 I was there, which was many months, I never had 
 cause to complain of him. His weakness was 
 
Dartmoor. 287 
 
 ' sums.' Only set him sums on his slate, and 
 correct them for him, and he would be as pleased 
 as a child with a new picture-book. Next to him 
 sat at first a country bumkpin of a fellow, a victim 
 of justices' justice ; and at the other end. of the 
 table a young man who had been in a very res- 
 pectable position in the City, but had been guilty 
 of bigamy, and to such a degree that he ' got it 
 hot ' for such a crime — five years. He was a very 
 well-conducted young fellow, and very reticent as 
 to his own affairs. He worked in the shoemakers' 
 gang. The other two men were both in the 
 quarrymen's party. 
 
 We had two warders and two assistant war- 
 ders. The warders were permanent, but the assist- 
 ants were always changing. Every evening one or 
 other of the wardens took it in turn to be on duty, 
 and the other went home. They were also alter- 
 nately on duty on Sunday. In the rooms we 
 were, of course, always under the immediate eye 
 of the warder, which at first was somewhat annoy- 
 ing, but it was no more than we had been when in 
 the cells ; but our being able to see the warder, as 
 well as he being able to spy upon us, made the 
 supervision appear more than it really was. 
 
288 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 Our two warders were very favourable examples 
 of prison officers. Higson, the senior, a tall, dark 
 Devonian of unmistakable Phoenician origin, had 
 charge in the daytime of the qnarry gang, and 
 was a straightforward sort of fellow. He had a 
 brother, a principal, a very fine stout man, and 
 always called Big Higson. Our other warder was 
 a little Welshman, Davies, with two teeth sticking 
 out prominently in front that no amount of mous- 
 tache or beard could hide, and two sharp eyes 
 that made him loot like a fierce buck rat. He 
 had one of the shoemakers' gangs and was an 
 instructor in the shop. He was much better than 
 many of the officers, but was a bit of a sneak and 
 very uncertain. A man might do a thing with ^ 
 impunity on Monday,Tuesday, and Wednesday, and 
 on Thursday be threatened with 'running in' or 
 reporting for the same thing. I had no reason to 
 complain of his behaviour to me but once, about 
 three months before I left the prison, but I always 
 felt more comfortable when I saw him go home to 
 the bosom of his family and leave Mr. Higson in 
 charge of the ward. Davies was ' dead nuts ' 
 upon cutting men's hair. The whole evening long 
 was he calling men out to be operated upon. I 
 
Dartmoor. 289 
 
 used to wonder whether, when he was at home and 
 had no prisoners to order to be cropped, he made 
 the little Davies hare their poUs denuded, or did 
 Mrs. D. get them aU to bed out of his way before 
 his arrival? 
 
 It is the rule when a man has run out his time 
 to three months for him to go up to the governor 
 and get permission to grow his hair and beard. 
 About four months before mj time was up I had 
 been to the governor and petitioned to have the 
 marks I had lost, equivalent to three weeks' time, 
 restored to me. I had been reported twice for 
 trivial matters and lost forty-eight marks each 
 time, and the rest had been lost, not through mis- 
 conduct, but by regulations as to short time that 
 I myself had not any control over. The Major 
 received my petition very kindly, and said that he 
 had no power himself to grant the remission, but 
 the director would be down in a few days, and he 
 would lay it before him and back it up. Thinking 
 to kill two birds with one stone, I asked for per- 
 mission to grow my hair. This the governor said 
 should be granted me. I, and everyone else, 
 considered that the permission dated from there 
 and then, and when I got back I told Mr. Higson 
 U 
 
290 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 so. He enquired of tte principal of the week, 
 wlio confirmed what I said. Consequently I 
 was not called out to be cropped, although there 
 was no order entered on the books of the ward 
 from the governor's ofiace. About three weeks 
 
 after this the director. Captain S , came down, 
 
 and on hearing my application, and taking into 
 consideration the special work I had been then 
 doing, he gave me my full remission, and at the 
 time this was entered in the books the order for 
 my hair-growing was also entered. 
 
 A principal warder, named Keith, a waspish 
 little fellow who bore me no goodwill, a man I 
 disliked much, was the principal on duty that day 
 at No. 1, where thepunishment-ceUs and governor's 
 audience-room are situated, and he of course saw 
 the book and the entries. Before the orders were 
 sent from the governor's clerk to the different 
 prisons he came down and told Davies exactly 
 how matters stood, and if possible to give me a 
 <3rop before the order-book arrived in the ward. 
 Immediately after supper Davies called me out, 
 greatly to my own and everyone else's astonish- 
 ment, to be cropped. I naturally protested, and 
 told him I had got the permission. He asked 
 
Dartmoor. 291 
 
 me to point out my name on tlie list of those 
 to whom permission had been granted, and which 
 hung up in the ward. Of course, my name, for 
 the reason I have stated, was not there, and I 
 had to submit, and was cropped as close as scissors 
 could cut. Before the evening was out the order 
 came down and my name was entered on the list. 
 I am quite convinced it was ^ planned thing with 
 Keith. I took good care it should get to the 
 governor's ears how I had been served, and I 
 think before I left Keith was more sorry about the 
 thing than I was. 
 
 Things like this petty tyranny it is that bring 
 up the devil in men's hearts and brains, and many 
 cases of outbreak and assaults on warders by pri- 
 soners may be traced to a series of such irritating 
 persecutions. Some warders take a delight in 
 causing a prisoner all the possible inconvenience 
 they can, knowing the man cannot retaliate or 
 even protect himself. 
 
 The reader must remember that all these little 
 apparently trivial matters become great, if not 
 important, items in the existence of men who are 
 entirely shut in from the outer world ; with whom, 
 in the absence of any other events to occupy the 
 tr2 
 
292 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 mind and attention, the smallest things become 
 magnified and constitute themselves events of 
 much greater importance in the daily routine of a 
 monotonous life utterly devoid of change or any 
 excitement. In the busy life of the outer world 
 there is so much to occupy men's minds and atten- 
 tion that trifles are unheeded which in the daily 
 existence of a convict become matters of interest 
 and importance. So also it is on a long voyage. 
 Those of my readers who have passed many months 
 on board ship will understand weU what I mean, 
 and know how the temper and real grit of every 
 man is severely tried and tested. 
 
 I have already spoken of a brute of a fellow 
 known as ' Long-nosed Smith,' an assistant warder. 
 He has, when on duty in our ward, looked 
 deliberately round to see whom he can annoy, in 
 hopes of making the man do or say something for 
 which he can report hira. Several times I have 
 noticed him first look to see which gas-burner threw 
 its light upon the book which I have been reading, 
 and then deliberately place himself directly in the 
 way, so as to cast a shadow on my book and if pos- 
 sible prevent my reading. It was most annoying, 
 and at first I used to try all manner of ways to sit 
 
Dartmoor. 293 
 
 and hold my book so as to escape his shadow. I . 
 found that only amused him, so I tried another 
 plan ; and though I could not see clearly to read, 
 particularly if it happened to be small print, I 
 would take no notice and sit just as if there was 
 no shade over me. After a while he would leave 
 me and go to some other man and do the same 
 thing. He would accuse men of doing things they 
 never dreamed of. He was very fond when he was 
 on duty with us in the rooms while we were eat- 
 ing our dinners, of actually accusing men of an 
 intention of doing a thing. 
 
 ' I say, you Jones there, I see you a-going to 
 give that man your bread. I'd just advise you not 
 to. I've got my eye on you.' 
 
 Now, the man had no more intention of giving 
 his bread away than of flying. Probably he would 
 much rather have had an extra allowance himself 
 if he could have got it. At one time Smith had the 
 duty of searching or turning over the cells while 
 the men were out to work. He made most won- 
 derful discoveries of things hidden away where I 
 firmly believe he first put them himself, as they were 
 not the places where a knowing prisoner would 
 stow them. He got many men into trouble. It 
 
294 Fi'^^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 was no use a man's protesting lie had never seen 
 this or that before. A prisoner's word is mmr 
 taken against an officer's. In time he had the 
 reputation among his superiors of being a smart 
 officer — too smart a good deal. 
 
 Offence in prisons and elsewhere can be manu- 
 factured as well as atrocities in Bulgaria. Smith, 
 wishing to get still further thanks for his vigilance, 
 first of all secreted and then found a very formidable 
 piece of iron — a 6-inch holdfast-^in the cell of a man 
 who had been in serious trouble once before and, 
 I think, had worn the black dress and 'slangs,' as 
 the fetters are called. The possession of this iron 
 was a serious offence. It meant either an attempt 
 to break out of prison or attacking a warder. Now, 
 either one or the other are equally futile. As to 
 getting out, no man but a madman would try to 
 make his escape by getting out of a cell; and as for 
 attacking a warder, if a man wanted to do that he 
 had only to take his stool by the leg and he had 
 at once a weapon worth two, aye, a dozen 6-ineh 
 holdfasts. If he wanted the holdfast to throw at 
 an officer's head his pewter chamber, weighing 71b. 
 or 8 lb., would be a much more effective missile. 
 However, this poor feUow was ' run in ;' and being 
 
Dartmoor. 295 
 
 a man of hot and revengeful temper, he really did 
 send one of his boots at the ' long nose,' but, it is 
 to be deeply regretted, did not aim straight and 
 hit it. For this he was ' put back ' for the direc- 
 tor's visit, as it is not in the power of the governor 
 to order any man corporal punishment. The 
 director ordered him to be * bashed' or flogged. 
 There seems, however, at last some doubt to have 
 come over the governor's mind whether aU these 
 wonderful discoveries of Mr. Smith were jeally 
 genuine, because none of the other searching 
 officers ever found such things as he did, and so 
 he was removed from that to other duties. His 
 masterpiece of the iron holdfast, however, was a 
 settler for him. The men one and all took such 
 a hatred to him, and so unmistakably expressed 
 it, not only in words but in most significant looksj 
 that he was afraid to go out with any of the bog 
 gangs, for fear he should have been set upon. 
 When appointed to go with the quarry gang he 
 was suddenly ill and went off duty. That is the 
 mo^t dangerous gang for an unpopular officer to 
 go with. A chance may arise for a man, qmie ly 
 accidmt on purpose, to loosen a large block of stone 
 over the head of anyone beneath him ; and if that 
 
296 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 man below should be an officer of Mr. Smitli's sort 
 it is not unlikely to take place, greatly to bis dis- 
 comfort. Accidents tbat cannot be helped happen 
 often enough. ' 
 
 T was much pleased in the rooms at the respect 
 the men paid to those who had the courage to go 
 upon their knees morning and night to pray. In 
 the cell, of course, a man has all the privacy of his 
 own apartment for such a purpose, with the single 
 exception of the officer who may take a quiet peep 
 through the spyhole. In the rooms it was quite 
 another thing. Here were sixty-eight men and two 
 officers. Now, who, thought I, will have the moral 
 courage to face sneers and derision or jokes and 
 kneel before he begins his day's work or lays his 
 head upon the pillow ? I thought of this just before 
 bedtime. Presently a bell sounded. 
 
 ' Tables down,' caUed the warder. 
 
 Every table was taken down and placed 
 against the wall, and the forms in front of them. 
 The men then all stood in two rows facing each 
 other. 
 
 The warder's voice is heard again. 
 
 ' Those who wish to say their prayers can step 
 to the rear. Silence and order for prayers.' 
 
Dartmoor. 297 
 
 Five minutes was the time allowed, and by 
 tliat time all the men had finished their petitions 
 to their Heavenly Father, and had risen to their 
 feet, resuming their places in the rank. I was 
 most agreeably surprised at seeing so many. I 
 think on an average there were nearly one-fifth 
 of the whole. I never once heard a remark from 
 the most hardened in derision or disparagement 
 of this practice. 
 
 ' Beds down,' shouts the warder when the last 
 man had risen from his knees and resumed his 
 place in the rank. Every man springs up, hauls 
 down his hammock,' proceeds to sling it and make 
 his bed, undress and get into it. When the men 
 are all in bed the night-watch comes on duty. 
 He counts the number of men in bed, gives the 
 roll or number to the other officer, who tells him 
 if he is right — if not he counts again — and then 
 the day warders leave, and the new one, always 
 an assistant warder, takes charge for the night. 
 The gas is turned down, not out, and silence pre- 
 vails. There is a little whispered conversation 
 going on at times, but generally the men are tired 
 and glad to get to sleep. 
 
 There was one difference as to sleeping in the 
 
298 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 rooms and the cells. In the latter a man may 
 sleep how he likes — in his boots, if it so pleases 
 him — but in the rooms every man must thoroughly 
 undress, taking off everything but his shirt and 
 flannel vest. His clothes are laid at the foot of 
 his hammock in such an order that the officer can 
 see at a glance if all are there. 
 
 To sleep in one's stockings is a great tempta- 
 tion on a bitter cold night, but is not allowed in 
 the rooms. Why this difference is made I cannot 
 tell, particularly as the rooms are considered to be 
 privileged and are for well-conducted men. 
 
 I never at any time could eat the whole allow- 
 ance of my bread. When in the cells I put what 
 I did not want on my shelf, and very frequently 
 hungry fellows would steal it. Old Dicks remon- 
 strated with me on this, saying I was putting 
 temptation in men's way, and that if seen they 
 would get punished, so afterwards I always gave 
 it back with my empty dinner-tins. In the rooms 
 there was generally some one at the table who 
 would eat all I could leave. Some men would steal 
 anything eatable they could lay their hands upon. 
 
 Our breakfast twelve-ounce loaves were much 
 nicer bread — why I never could tell — than the six 
 ounce loaves at dinner, or the eight-ounce at 
 
Dartmoor. 299 
 
 supper. I used, therefore, to eat the crust of my 
 breakfast loaf at breakfast and put by the crumb 
 in my pint pot for dinner, to put into the soup ; 
 and I gave my dinner loaf, or best part of it, away 
 to those at the table. Sometimes, however, we 
 would find all our tins emptied and our bread 
 gone. Not only would the men take bread but 
 candles, and eat them. One man was 'bowled 
 out' with the wicks of a whole bunch, three 
 pounds of candles, he had ' filched ' out of the 
 landing store cupboard and had eaten. He could 
 not eat the wicks, so put them in his pocket, and 
 on being ' rubbed down ' they were found upon 
 him. 
 
 I named on a previous page that one of the 
 men at my table was a victim of justices' justice. 
 This man was sentenced to seven years for steal- 
 ing twelve eggs from under a duck. He had 
 been sentenced previously some three years before 
 for two months to the county gaol for stealing 
 a pound of butter. He was a farm labourer, 
 and had eleven shillings a week, a wife and 
 four children. He had sickness in his house, 
 and was driven by his children's wants to take 
 twelve eggs from under a duck that had just 
 begun to sit in a hedge near the farmyard pond. 
 
300 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 That man has told me frequently that he worked 
 far harder for his eleven shillings a week than 
 ever he had at stone-quarrying or anything else 
 in prison. When at home he seldom, if ever, had 
 meat of any sort, and when he did it was only fat 
 bacon, and his bed was but a poor affair com- 
 pared to his prison couch. Here in prison, com- 
 paratively speaking, he ' fared sumptuously every 
 day,' and I can assure the reader he considered 
 the living luxurious compared to what he had at 
 home ; and as for his bed he said he never slept so 
 comfortably in his life, and should sadly miss it 
 when he returned home. 
 
 I asked him what his wife and children were 
 doing. The parish allowed her half-a-crown a 
 week, and gave her four- quartern loaves as well. 
 Now, just calculate what this man's imprisonment 
 cost his county. At the rate he was working he 
 would not save more than nine months out of his 
 time as remission, and would serve six years and 
 three months. Taking the quartern loaf on an 
 average of sevenpence, the cost would be as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 Six years and nine months, or 351 -weeks @ 2/6 . £43 17 6 
 Pour q-uarterns for 351 ■si'eeks = 1404 @ 7(i. . . 40 19 
 
 ^84 16 6 
 
Dartmoor. 301 
 
 This would come out of the county rates, and, 
 with the cost of his prosecution, &c., would make 
 in all lOOL I question much whether six months or 
 even less, with hard labour, would not have been a 
 more reasonable and judicious sentence than seven 
 years. In seven years he has got used to prison 
 life. In fact, I question not only whether prison 
 has lost all its terrors to him, but whether 
 when he goes home and resumes his farm labour- 
 ing and the difficulties of maintaining his family 
 " on eleven shillings a week, he wiU. not often look 
 back with regret to the soup and the meat and 
 the comfortable bed, with comparatively little work 
 and no anxiety, of Dartmoor. I shall in a future 
 page give the reader my ideas on long and short 
 sentences. 
 
 In our A 2 room we had a man who was 
 always in hot water with the authorities, and who 
 should have been wiser than to indulge in such 
 puerilities. I should not mention his case but 
 that it shows the ' unfortunate nobleman now at 
 Dartmoor ' is not singular in thinking the autho- 
 rities of the prison have nothing else to do but 
 invent tortures for him. This man, whom we will 
 call Farmer, had held a colonel's commission in a 
 
302 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Militia regiment of one of the smallest British 
 isles. He was always leaving his slate exposed to 
 view, with most insulting things addressed to the 
 governor, the chaplain, or some other high au- 
 thority of the prison. They generally assumed 
 the shape of letters, apparently addressed to the 
 various individuals, and couched in the very 
 strongest language. Anything more silly I can- 
 not conceive. To speak to he was a most inoffen- 
 sive man, was highly educated, and spoke several 
 languages. He was everlastingly in trouhle. So, 
 I expect, is the ' Claimant,' judging from some 
 expressions I have seen in his letters to Mr. 
 Onslow, and published in the papers. I could not 
 help smiling at reading in the papers of June or 
 July 1877 one of his letters, where, I see, he is 
 quoting Latin. . Do not let the public run away 
 with the idea this is any revived learning ori- 
 ginally picked up at Stoneyhurst. He can, if he 
 likes, have a Latin or a French dictionary and 
 grammar and study both languages ; and should 
 he. be located in one of the rooms, it is not im- 
 probable he may have a messmate who can coach 
 him up, give him lessons in either language, and, 
 if need be, write him a rough draft of a letter on 
 
Dartmoor. 303 
 
 his slate, wMch lie would be allowed to take into 
 the school hall and copy. I noticed his letters of 
 late show a great improvement over some of the 
 productions read at the trial. I have myself 
 written letters for many a man on his slate, 
 which he has copied in the way I name; and 
 more than once I have, with the schoolmaster's 
 permission, actually written a man's letter for 
 him on his paper, and he has signed it. 
 
 I did not like my stove appointment at all, 
 and had it not been for the expectation of getting 
 the prison clothing I would have declined it. In 
 the first place, it was dirty, and in summer an 
 intolerably hot job; and secondly, try what I 
 would, I could never give satisfaction to the men 
 on the board. At first I humoured them in every 
 way, by giving them ' a hot one ' or a ' spare '■ — 
 that is, one that has been used as a hot one and 
 begun to cool — ^just as they asked for them ; but I 
 found the more I tried to please the less I suc- 
 ceeded. One day, when I was in Jemmy's room, 
 putting some cloth accounts down for him,; I told 
 him how difficult it was to please the men on the 
 board. 
 ' Oh, bother the fellows ! If a man calls for an 
 
304 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 iron give him. one ; and if it is too hot let him 
 wait till it cools. When it is too cold change it 
 for a hot one. Let the beggars pass the irons to 
 each other.' 
 
 The i^ext morning I started on the principle 
 of pleasing myself, and found it answered better 
 than vainly endeavouring to please them. IVom 
 the first if a man used any abusive language to 
 me I would give him no iron at all. They ap- 
 pealed to Wetherly, but when I told him I would 
 give no man an iron that knew not how to control 
 his tongue, and I would not put up with abusive 
 language, he very properly backed me up, and I 
 soon taught the men to be civil. • 
 
 At last the time grew very short vdth Gentle- 
 man Jem, and when he had only a fortnight to 
 stay the master tailor relieved me from the stove 
 and put me to the clothing table, to get me well 
 into its duties before the other man left. 
 
 Just about this time the construction of a new 
 tailors' shop was commenced, and no end of dis- 
 cussions took place in Jemmy's room as to how it 
 should be portioned out, and where his cutting- 
 room should be. It was over one of the shoemakers' 
 workrooms, and adjoining the carpenters' shop. 
 
Dartmoor. 305 
 
 The upper room, where the tailors had hitherto 
 worked, was fitted up as another association room, 
 making five in all. 
 
 My duties at the clothing table were multifa- 
 rious. On Monday morning a large sack full of 
 ' repairs,' cloth and fustian clothes, came up from 
 each hall or room of the prison that required 
 repairing. Every article had a tin tally attached 
 to it, denoting where it came from, and inside 
 every garment was stamped in figures an inch 
 long the register nunlber of the prisoner to whom 
 it belonged. The first thing I did was to sort 
 and count them all out, and state on a' slate how 
 many jackets, vests, trowsers, and breeches had 
 been sent up from each prison. By the time I 
 had completed that, the clerk from the steward's 
 office (not a prisoner) came up and counted them 
 over again with me. Entering the numbers of 
 each garment into a book, I then examined every 
 article carefully, and those I thought had done 
 their full service and were worn out I put on one 
 side to be condemned. As I went over them this 
 time I entered on my slate the particulars from 
 every tally and the register numbers. That slate 
 then showed where every garment came from and 
 
 X 
 
3o6 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 to whom it belonged. I then got the master 
 tailor to come and look over those I had set on 
 one side for condemnation, and all those he so 
 passed were put on one side, and I noted the 
 sizes of each garment, and made out a fresh list of 
 ' condemned,' with the sizes against each article. 
 These were all to be replaced by new clothes 
 at the end of the week, and the old clothes 
 were cut up, the best parts of the stuff being 
 saved to use for repairs and patches of other gar- 
 ments, and the rags and useless pieces were cast 
 on one side and swept into the rubbish among the 
 pieces I have already named, as going away in 
 bales. -I then set to work ' fitting up ' all those 
 garments that wanted repairs, cutting out the 
 rags and bad parts and fitting pieces of old 
 cloth or fustian to make patches of. These I 
 gave out to the repairers, as fast as I could get 
 them done. 
 
 Every morning there came up a number of 
 jackets to be ' badged,' and the facings altered as 
 men were reported and lost their class or regained 
 them, as I have already explained. The first 
 thing I did was to prepare these badges, cut out 
 a round of cloth of the proper colour, and stamp 
 
Dartmoor. 307 
 
 the same either in red or black as the case 
 required with the letters P.S., the man's register 
 mirnber, and his sentence; these and the neces- 
 sary strips of coloured cloth for facings were 
 tucked into the pocket of the jacket, and it was 
 thrown to the mian doing the badging. At the 
 end of each day the re-badged jackets and such 
 repairs as were done were sent back to their 
 respective destinations in the several prisons. All 
 this formed regular daily work. 
 
 There was a great deal besides that was irre- 
 gular. All the new prison garments that were 
 made in the shop were stowed away in one corner 
 of the master tailor's room till a large number 
 were collected. Then I brought them out and 
 marked them with the broad arrow, stamping 
 them all over in regular allotted places. The 
 cloth, fustian, and flannel clothes were stamped 
 with black paint, and the shirts and slops with 
 red. They were then tied up in bundles of a 
 dozen of assorted sizes, and taken to the steward's 
 store. Underclothing was only made of one size. 
 What will fit a big man there is no difficulty in a 
 little one getting into. The outer garments were 
 made of three sizes, marked respectively, 3^ 4, 
 x2 
 
3o8 Five Years Pencd Servitude. 
 
 aud 5. For any special sized man an extra sized 
 suit was made to measure. A few men who were 
 deformed, and who had doctor's certificates for 
 that purpose, had trowsers instead of knicker- 
 bocker breeches. While I was there, a change 
 was made in the clothing of the men. The striped 
 tweeds were discontinued as they wore out, and 
 the jackets were made of coarse drab or light 
 brown cloth, and the vests and breeches were 
 made of fastian of a similar colour. The fustian, 
 so long as they were not wet, were much the 
 warmer, as the stuff being of a closer texture 
 kept out the cold wind much better than the 
 STjperfine quality cloth. All the blankets, sheets, 
 towels, stockings, pocket-handkerchiefs, rugs, and 
 hammocks used throughout the prison passed 
 through my hands to be stamped. When a batch 
 of large things, such as blankets, rugs, and sheets 
 came up, I cut them out or apart, as the case 
 may be, and gave them but to be hemmed, and 
 when done I had to get assistance in stamping 
 them ; spreading them out on the floor for this 
 purpose. 
 
 On Saturday, I had a busy day. In the first 
 place I had to get from the master tailor any 
 
Dartmoor. 309 
 
 new clothes I had not in my stock that I required 
 to replace the condemned ones. Then I had to 
 look out new clothes to send down to the prisons. 
 Every garment had the man's number stamped in 
 it, and the tally tied on. The jackets had to be 
 badged and faced as well. On Saturday morning 
 every landing, ward, and room sent up requisitions 
 for old clothes to be lent to men who were going 
 to send their clothes to be mended on the next 
 Monday. All these had to be looked out and 
 together with any repairs, and the new clothes 
 were tied up in separate bundles for each landing, 
 and then put into their proper bags for the 
 respective prisons. I need hardly say this all 
 required care and attention. 
 
 The first week I had it all to myself there 
 were one or two mistakes ; a bundle put into the 
 wrong bag, &c. After that I never had any 
 mistake till we had the misfortune, after Long- 
 nosed Smith was afraid to go out with a quarry 
 gang, to have him sent to the tailor's shop as 
 assistant warder. From the first day he came in 
 the place there were nothing but rows and trouble. 
 He reported more men in one week than had 
 been reported in three months before. He tried 
 
3IO Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 to interfere with me in my work, but I at once 
 went to Jemmy and told Mm lie must protect me 
 from tliat. No assistant warder ever had bnsied 
 himself with the special work either in my time 
 or Gentleman Jem's. 
 
 ' AU right,' said Jemmy; ' I'll see to it.' 
 
 The next time the objectionable long nose 
 came poking itself about my place, I asked him 
 what he was doing, and would he be kind enough 
 not to disturb the things, as I had arranged them. 
 I spoke loudly on purpose ; I wanted Jemmy to 
 Eear, and so he did. Out he came — 
 
 ' Now then what's the matter with you, and 
 what's aU this shouting about ?' 
 
 'I was requesting Mr. Smith, sir,' I replied, 
 'not to disturb my work things, as they are all 
 arranged in order.' 
 
 'Mr. Smith, I am master tailor here, and 
 when I want anyone to look after my special 
 men, I will ask the governor to send me a man on 
 purpose. There is quite enough for an assistant 
 warder to do here in looking after his own duties. 
 Mr. Witherby, have you given your assistant any 
 instructions to meddle with the special work.' 
 
 'No, sir, I have given no orders at all, 
 
Dartmoor. 311 
 
 replied Witlierby, ' and I never myself interfere 
 with your departments. All I do here is to keep 
 order in the shop.' 
 
 ' If you want to remain here, Mr. Smith, you 
 will please confine yourself to your own duties. 
 If any of my special men do not do what is right, 
 m very soon bring them in before the governor. 
 If you are come here to take my place, say so at 
 once, and I'll put on my hat and coat and walk 
 out.' 
 
 I was troubled no more with Smith that week, 
 but next Monday there was a pretty disturbance. 
 The bags of clothes were carried down by 
 prisoners to the respective prisons, and they were 
 attended by the assistant warder — in this case. 
 Smith. The men usually went also to ■ the 
 steward's store with any stock of clothes they had 
 to deliver, and also to draw supplies of materials; 
 cloth, thread, buttons, calico, flannel, &c., for the 
 next week. The men afterwards said that on 
 getting to the bottom of the stairs they left all 
 the bags as usual, and went over to the steward's 
 store, and that while there. Smith left them in 
 charge of the warder of the store while he went 
 
312 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 away for a few minutes — quite long enough to 
 carry out his plan of revenge on me. 
 
 On Monday Jemmy came to me, looking as 
 black as thunder, and in a furious manner said : — 
 
 ' What the deuce little game were yon up to 
 on Saturday? There was not one prison to which 
 the things were sent right. I have had every 
 warder in the place at me to know what I mean 
 by giving them so much trouble. All the even- 
 ing till bell-ringing were they running about 
 changing bundles of clothes through your stupid- 
 ity. If you can't do the work properly, I'U very 
 soon get a man that can.' 
 
 I saw in one moment, by a look at Smith, that 
 he had been having a finger in this matter ; and 
 I also saw that Jemmy's blowing up of me was all 
 ' gaff.' He knew as well as I did the things left 
 the shop all right, and he had as pretty shrewd a 
 suspicion as I had of the clever party who had 
 been at work. 
 
 ' I can only say, sir,' I replied, ' that when 
 the things left here they were all right ; I was as 
 careful as I always am, and I am quite sure they 
 left this shop all right. If the things were in the 
 wrong bags, some one changed them after they 
 
Dartmoor. 313 
 
 left this place. It is very strange that for months 
 past there has never been a single mistake, and 
 now that every bag should be wrong.' 
 
 ' It is strange, deuced strange ! ' said Jemmy. 
 
 ' Some one must have changed them purposely,' 
 I continued. 'The whole time Mr. Denver and 
 Mr. Collins were assistant warders here, I never 
 had any complaints of bundles being put into 
 wrong bags. You say too, sir, every bag was 
 wrong. I can only say that is pretty proof that 
 some one had done it, either for a lark or for mis- 
 chief, and by doing all the bags has overdone it. 
 Had there been one bag, one bundle wrong, I 
 might have thought it possible I had made a 
 mistake ; but all being the same I think, sir, is 
 proof that some one ' 
 
 ' What are you looking at me in that way 
 for ? ' burst in Smith ; ' do you mean to say I 
 changed them? I'll ' 
 
 * If he did say so, I don't fancy he would be 
 very far wrong,' put in Jemmy ; ' that will do, go 
 on with your work,' and off he walked. 
 
 After dinner, when we came out to join the 
 gang on parade, we all missed the long nose of 
 Mr. Smith ; Jemmy had had quite enough of him 
 
314 Fi've Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 in the shop. I think everyone in the place, even 
 Witherby, felt relieved vfhen he was removed. 
 There was an ugly-looking pock-marked warder 
 in the infirmary, just such another as Smith, who 
 I understand was a perpetual firebrand in the 
 place. He used to come up occasionally into our 
 shop with infirmary work, such as trusses to be 
 re-covered, wanting an old shirt for some poor 
 fellow who was dead, or for strips of old sheeting 
 for bandages. He never came either to Stanley's, 
 or to my table without a snarl. 
 
 I have before made the remark that I think 
 old soldiers are the best warders, and I think the 
 discipline of the prison would be much better 
 conducted if the warders were all taken from the 
 ranks of discharged soldiers. The generality of 
 men who enter the convict service as assistant 
 warders are of a very poor type. They take to it 
 as a last resource, except in some instances such 
 as where whole families — father and sons — are in 
 it, and are to a certain extent, born and bred in it. 
 A man generally comes there with hardly a rag to 
 his back or a shoe to his foot ; has never had the 
 least authority over another man in his life, and 
 is suddenly placed with very great power and 
 
Dartmoor. 315 
 
 authority over a lot of men who are for the time 
 being slaves to his orders, whims, and fancies. 
 Very few become efficient officers ; most of them 
 are perfect tyrants. They soon find out that any 
 accusation they make against a man is listened 
 to, and the prisoner's word is under no circum- 
 stances believed. A wish to be considered an 
 energetic officer will be the incentive with some, 
 and the love of exercising a new power with 
 others which causes them to bully and tyrannise 
 over the men. 
 
 In many respects I don't consider the disci- 
 pline or the work hard enough, a remark I dare- 
 say many will be surprised at, coming from one 
 who has occupied the position I have of being a 
 sufferer; but when the reader reads my remarks 
 on long and short sentences, he will see my rea- 
 sons for such a statement. 
 
3i6 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DAETMOOE. 
 
 I HAVE already mentioned a case of a prison 
 warder communicating with the friends of a 
 prisoner and obtaining money thereby. While I 
 was at Dartmpor, a somewhat similai; occurrence 
 took place. 
 
 An assistant warder, whose duty was to search 
 and turn over the cells in search of anything of a 
 contraband character that might be hidden away, 
 used to read the letters of prisoners received from 
 their friends, that in the due order of things were 
 left in their cells. By this means he became ac- 
 quainted with the fact that the mother of a certain 
 prisoner was not 'only a woman of ample means, . 
 but was of a soft-hearted nature, and was fretting 
 herself very greatly at the horrors and discomforts 
 of her dear but erring son. The letter contained 
 
Dartmoor. 3 1 7 
 
 her address, which he carefully noted, and at once 
 commenced a correspondence with the credulous 
 lady, representing to her, that being a warder in 
 the prison, it was in his power to do great things 
 for her son. He could save him from hard work, 
 and if money was remitted, would manage to sup- 
 ply him with all sorts of comforts and luxuries,- 
 that except for his intervention he could not pos^ 
 sibly have. He also offered to become the bearer 
 of letters to him from his family. He received 
 some considerable remittances of money, and also 
 parcels containing all sorts of good and, comfort- 
 able things a fond mother may be imagined to 
 send to her dear boy in trouble. 
 
 In due course letter- writing time arrived, when 
 in accordance with the rules of the prison, the. 
 man could receive letters from his friends, aud 
 also write to them in reply. Much to his surprise 
 and anxiety he received no letter. Week after 
 week went by, and still no news from home. He 
 wished to hear from his mother before writing, 
 but at last, no longer able to .bear the suspense, 
 he applied for his ordinary permission and wrote 
 home. His letter of course expressed his distress 
 at receiving, no news. Its receipt at home excited 
 
3i8 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 great surprise, and just as the duped motlier 
 was about to write to her warder correspondent, 
 a confidential friend of the family called, and was 
 made acquainted with the facts of the case; He 
 at once saw his friend had been imposed upon, 
 and being a practical man, went straight to head- 
 quarters in Parliament Street to make enquiries. 
 The truth at once was known. The 'gaff was 
 -blown,' and on enquiry being made at Dartmoor 
 the whole affair came out. The assistant warder 
 of course lost his situation, but was not prosecuted 
 by the prisoner's friends for obtaining the money, 
 as they did not wish to re-open a painful sore and 
 bring an honoured family name again before the 
 public. Had a prosecution by the mother taken 
 place, the fact of her son's disgrace would be again 
 reTived. For infringing the prison bye-laws the 
 man was prosecuted by the authorities and fined. 
 Such cases are more frequent than either the 
 public or the authorities are aware of. Now and 
 then they are discovered and are made public. 
 In August of this present year, 1877, a warder 
 at Brixton Convict Prison has been discovered 
 carrying letters to and fro between a prisoner and 
 his friends, and fined hi. 
 
Dartmoor. 319 
 
 The move into the new tailors' shop was a 
 great event in our monotonous prison life, and 
 created quite an excitement, at any rate among 
 the tailors' gang, for weeks before and after. It 
 was in many respects far more commodious, and 
 in winter much warmer than in the old loft in 
 No. 3 prison. 
 
 My department was located in one corner, with 
 a vfdndow from which I could actually see the 
 high ground outside the prison walls. I regarded 
 this as quite a luxury, though the look-out was 
 only on to an almost barren wilderness. By getting 
 on to my table I could get a ghmpse of a bit of 
 garden ground, which after two years of seeing 
 nothing but grey granite walls, was positively 
 deUghtfal. The first sight of the green shrubs 
 waving in the wind, was quite refreshing to the 
 sight, and I contrived to have a shelf put over the 
 window which required my frequently mounting 
 on the table to get at, so that I could enjoy an 
 occasional peep at this oasis. 
 
 I have already informed the reader that one of 
 my duties was the condemning old clothes, and 
 supplying the prisoners with new in their place. 
 After I had been in the post some few months 
 
320 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Jemmy left the condemnation pretty well to me, 
 and only came to my table and counted over the 
 ' condemneds ' as a matter of form. I had, there- 
 fore, the power of giving any man I liked a new 
 jacket, vest, or pair of breeches, at pleasure. This 
 was a dangerous privilege if not used with great 
 care. I need scarcely say almost every man who 
 could get to walk with me asked me to ' sling ' 
 him a new garment of some sort. His jacket or 
 his breeches were very thin, and the weather was 
 cold. I had offers of tobacco and bread. All 
 manner of prison bribes were made to me. Not 
 only was I importuned by my walking companions, 
 but those who were known to be my friends, two 
 especially, who .1 have alluded to before, were 
 begged to use their influence with me. Had I 
 done all that was asked of me there would hardly 
 have been a shabby or patched article of clothing 
 to be seen in. the prison. I tried my best to act 
 wisely and kindly, but before long I found I had 
 such a set to deal with that I refiased to listen to 
 any more applications. I found some men would 
 send up a jacket or other article really bad, and 
 get a new one, and the same man would send up 
 another old jacket in a few weeks. As LkepFa 
 
Dartmoor. 321 
 
 list of all tlie new things supplied, and the register 
 numbers of them, which my predecessor did not, 
 I had a very sure and useful check, and con- 
 sequently was able to bowl the scheming gentle- 
 men out. I could not, however, understand how 
 they had ' rung the changes ' and got rid of the 
 new garments I had a short while since supplied 
 them with, and were able to send me another old 
 one. The badges and facings were changed, but 
 then I thought of the register numbers stamped 
 inside. At last it came out. 
 
 A man who had bought a new jacket from 
 another got into trouble and was reported. On 
 going to the punishment cells to await a hearing . 
 before the governor each man is stripped — ^they 
 are very fond of stripping men in the convict 
 service — and his clothes examined. There hap- 
 pened to be a sharp-eyed warder on duty that 
 day, who detected that the register .number inside 
 the jacket did not agree with the badge on the 
 arm. He thought he had a good cause of com- 
 plaint against me, and so up he walks straight- 
 way from No. 1 to the tailor's shop, with the 
 jacket in his hand, and went right in to the 
 
 T 
 
322 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 master-tailor's cutting-room. Presently out comes 
 Jemmy to me, in one of his furious moods. 
 
 ' Hullo ! what's the meaning of this. Look at 
 this jacket; you have put a wrong' number inside.' 
 
 I looked, and sure enough the two register 
 numbers on badge and inside were very different. 
 
 ' Wait a minute, sir, tDl I refer to my Hst. 
 What is the badge register number 37,632? I 
 have never issued a jacket to such a number. 
 What is the number inside ? 
 
 ' 24,316,' said Jemmy, reading off the figures. 
 • After looking down my list I came to it. 
 
 'On August 14 I issued this jacket to that 
 number from 3 landing, A haU, No. 2 prison, cell 
 42, in place of a jacket condemned, a second- 
 class badge.' 
 
 ' Let me see your list ? ' 
 
 I handed it to the master tailor, who, after 
 looking at it attentively, laid it down, and took 
 up the jacket and examined it closely. 
 
 'This badge is not sewn on with the same 
 thread as the facings. There's some dodgrog 
 about this. Heje, give me your list.' 
 
 Off he walked with the warder to the punish- 
 ment cells, and then it all came out. The man to 
 
Dartmoor. 323 
 
 whom the new jacket was originally supplied had 
 ' slung ' it to another , man, of course for a good 
 consideration, either in ' chuck,' i. e. bread, or 
 something else. 
 
 Not long after this a similar case turned up, 
 and there we found the register number had been 
 obliterated ; and once I came across some articles 
 of clothing in which the registers had been altered 
 Tery cleverly — no doubt with blacking. 
 
 I had to be particularly sharp in looking over 
 and examining the things, and to be up to all 
 the dodges and tricks played by the men. 
 
 I had a suspicion that there was some one in 
 the tailor's shop who ' was working on the cross,' 
 with regard to the changing of clothes, and I did 
 all I could to discover it for a long time without 
 success. At last Jemmy said to me one day, 
 
 ' There's some hanky panky business 
 
 going on among the men of No. 2 Prison ; the 
 Catholic side is ringing changes, and it is done in 
 this shop. Have you any suspicion of any man ? 
 The changes take place in the badging. The 
 warders tell me. that they often have complaints 
 from men who have sent up good or new jackets 
 to be badged, and that old ones are sent down to 
 T 2 
 
324 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 them, aaid I fear that all the good ones go into 
 the Catholic Hall,' 
 
 'Then, Sir!' I replied, 'it is Guribaldi, who 
 is now doing the badglng.' 
 
 ' No doubt ; now you must watch him care- 
 fully, and find it out. But there is another and 
 more serious complaint. How is it so many 
 needles are about the prison. Only the other day 
 one was found in a man's jacket that had been up 
 here for repairs. That, too, was in the Catholic 
 Hall. Master Garibaldi is the man, not a doubt 
 of it. I'U go and look to his work now.' 
 
 Out he went, and taking up the work Gari- 
 baldi was doing he came with it to my table, and 
 on comparing it with the memoranda on my slate, 
 found it was not the jacket that had come up. A 
 little looking about soon disdovered the proper 
 jacket stowed away behind his seat,, where it 
 would have remained tUl he had a fitting oppor- 
 tunity to place it among the repairs at my table. 
 
 ' Ah ! that's just what I thought, so you have 
 been the man supplying No. 2 Prison with new 
 things. I'U start you on the bogs at once. Here, 
 Mr, Andrews,' calling to the assistant-warder, 
 ' take this man to No. 1 on my report.' 
 
Dartmoor. 325 
 
 The tricks and games the men in the shop 
 were up to were surprising. No man could get a 
 new needle unless he produced the broken pieces 
 of his old one. The officers, however, were satis- 
 fied if they saw them, and would throw them 
 down anywhere on the ground. Such men as 
 Garibaldi would, when it came to their turn to 
 sweep up the shop, collect a lot of broken pieces, 
 and would now and again call out they had 
 broken their needles, produce two pieces and get 
 new ones. A needle once ' landed ' in the prison 
 could readily be exchanged for a loaf of bread or 
 some other portion of food. A dirty bit of an old 
 tobacco pipe would be worth seyeral "needles. 
 What men in the cells wanted with needles I 
 could never make out. Thread also was taken 
 into the prisons, in spite of frequently searching 
 the men. 
 
 Sometimes when out taking exercise after 
 work the principal warder of the day would come 
 and pick out a dozen or so of men he had any 
 suspicion of, and march them away to one of the 
 passages, where, with the assistance of a couple of 
 warders, they would all be stripped and turned 
 over. I was never turned over in this way at 
 
326 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 Dartmoor. I suppose no one ever suspected me. 
 Notliing would have ever been found, for I never 
 once took anything of the sort out of the shop, or 
 afterwards out of the Clerk of Works oflSce or 
 store. 
 
 There was a man named Hayes among the 
 prison clothes' menders who had formerly been a 
 lawyer's clerk. He was very vain of his know- 
 ledge of Latin, and pretended to possess great 
 Classical acquirements ; but on a close acquaint- 
 ance his real store of learning was found to be 
 but very shallow. He was fond of trying to crack 
 little jokes and ^eux de mots with the Eev. Stanley 
 at the shirt-mending table. 
 
 One intensely hot day, when every man had 
 thrown off his jacket and vest, and worked in his 
 shirt sleeves, Stanley, who was a heavy stout man, 
 had not only divested himself of his upper gar- 
 ments, but had taken off his stock, opened the 
 neck of his shirt, and turned up his sleeves above 
 the elbows. I went over to that side of the shop 
 for something I wanted. Hayes and Stanley 
 were chatting over their work as usual. 
 
 'Our friend here,' said Hayes to me, and 
 jerking his head towards the parson, 'has not 
 
Dartmoor. 327 
 
 a Tery ecclesiastical appearance just now, has 
 he?' 
 
 'No; he looks more sacerdotal than eccle- 
 siastical at present,' I replied, ' and particularly 
 brandishing that knife.' He had a knife in his 
 hand, ripping up old blankets. 
 
 ' I am quite at a loss to comprehend your 
 meaning,' said Hayes. 
 
 ' What, does not your Classical knowledge 
 help you to see at once how well he would do 
 for a priest of Jupiter, already stripped and 
 armed, to slay the sacrificial ox.' 
 
 ' Oh, capital, capital, I never thought of that. 
 I shall make a mental note of that against when 
 I am at liberty.' 
 
 ' Mind you note it correctly, for fear of 
 error,' said Stanley, ' second-hand " m6ts " when 
 applied as originals sometimes lead their users 
 into awkward mistakes.' 
 
 I have, in a former portion of this narrative, 
 mentioned black and parti-'Coloured clothes worn 
 by prisoners. For striking or threatening an 
 officer the dress was black and 'drab, each piece 
 alternate colours, and the sides of the breeches 
 were open and fastened with buttons, like what 
 
328 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 are called ' overalls,' to admit of their being put 
 on and off -while the, man wore chains fastened 
 to his ankles with riveted rings. !For attempting 
 to escape the dress was parti-coloured in the same 
 way, but drab and yellow instead of drab and 
 black. Men when undergoing the wearing of either 
 of these dresses were not allowed to exercise with 
 other prisoners, but walked by themselves and in 
 single file, so that they were unable to enter into 
 any conversation. 
 
 When a man is reported for any offence, his 
 name is given in by the complaining oficer, and 
 "is sent in to the principal warder of the day, who 
 passes it on to the chief warder. In some cases 
 the chief will enquire into and settle the matter 
 himself, particularly if it is the first time a man's 
 name has been handed in, and the subject of 
 complaint is only a trivial affair. The names of 
 those men handed in by the chief to be dealt with 
 by the governor are given to the principal of 
 No. 1 prison, the punishment cells, and he sends 
 a warder round some time during the morning 
 to the different gangs and wards to collect the 
 men. 
 
 On arriving at No. 1, each man is placed in a 
 
Dartmoor. 329 
 
 separate cell. Then lie is stripped, and his clothes 
 on being examined, are returned to. him except his 
 boots and braces, -which are left outside the door. 
 The governor or deputy ' sits ' at twelve o'clock, 
 and first hears the reports. The prisoner is 
 brought from the cell to the governor's room on 
 the ground-floor. This is an ordinary office, with 
 a door at each side. The prisoner on entering 
 is divided from the governor and his clerk by 
 strong iron railings, reaching from the floor to 
 the ceiling. Against these he stands fronting the 
 table at which the governor is seated, having 
 before him not only the particular report on which 
 the man is now brought up, but a formidable 
 ledger-looking book, in which is entered the his- 
 tory of every man — his crime, and fall particulars 
 of his conduct since his arrest, with such remarks 
 as may have been made by governors of other 
 prisons, and all reports, if any, ever made against 
 him. At a glance the governor sees what sort of 
 a man he has before him, and deals accordingly. 
 The of&cer making the report stands near the 
 prisoner and states his case, and the governor asks 
 what the man has to say ia excuse for his breach 
 of discipline. Behind the governor stands the 
 
330 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 chief warder, who can say a word either for or 
 against the man as he sees fit. 
 
 The governor can give a man solitary con- 
 finement, with a diet of bread and water, but not 
 for more than three consecutive days. So that if 
 a man is sentenced to fourteen days or a month, 
 he must have meat or soup every fourth day. 
 Sometimes men have solitary confinement on half 
 rations. 
 
 It is not in the power of the governor to order 
 any man corporeal punishment; If it is a serious 
 case, the prisoner is remanded to the punishment 
 cells on half diet, till the next visit of one of the 
 directors of convict prisons, who, if needful, orders 
 the man to be flogged with the ' cat,' six dozen 
 being the greatest amount ever given. After 
 being flogged a man wears for. a certain time the 
 black or yellow particoloured dress, according to 
 his offence, with or without chains or * slangs,' 
 as the visiting director may order. The flogging 
 takes place in the hall of No. 1 prison, where 
 triangles are fixed, and the man is triced up to 
 them in the old military style. The doctor is 
 always in attendance at a ' bashing,' and can at 
 any time stop it, or prevent it altogether if he 
 
Dartmoor. 331 
 
 does not consider the man in a fit state to under- 
 go it. 
 
 With a certain class of men I consider the 
 ' cat ' the very best and most effective punish- 
 ment. My opinion is formed from observation, 
 and from what I have gathered from prisoners. 
 When discussing the question of long and short 
 sentences, I shall speak further on the question 
 of the ' cat.' 
 
 If a prisoner's conduct is violent or very bad, 
 the principal warder, on the application of the 
 officer of his gang or prison, can order him off to 
 the cells at once, and not wait for the governor's 
 messenger coming for him the next day. 
 
 An interview with the governor with any pe- 
 tition or request is held in the same office, after 
 the reports have been disposed of. 
 
 A messenger from the governor's office, as I 
 have already stated, comes round at dinner time 
 and collects those who wish to see the governor 
 or chaplain. On arriving at No. 1, the men for 
 the governor are turned into, a yard, unless it 
 rains, and then they walk round until each man's 
 turn comes, when he is called, and going into the 
 caged portion of the room, he mentions his re- 
 
332 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 gister number, and at once states wliat he wants. 
 The governor has before him the book with the 
 particulars of the man's character, which assists 
 him ia dealing with the request before him. 
 Those men for the chaplaia are marched to his 
 office, in a yard near No. 1. 
 
 Every application made by a man is entered 
 in the ledger, and in fact every minute particular 
 connected with his prison career. Each change 
 of cell or ward, and also of gang, and the cha- 
 racter of the work he is employed on. Memo- 
 randa are also entered as to the character of the 
 Mends he writes to and receives letters from, 
 and remarks as to the nature of the correspond- 
 ence. If the governor has reason to suspect a 
 prisoner is corresponding with improper partes, 
 or with bad associates, he has power to refuse 
 to forward any letters either to or from a prisoner. 
 All these regulations are good in every way, as 
 it is desirable, if possible, to break up 'gangs' of 
 thieves, and also to separate men from their old 
 evil associates as much as possible, particularly 
 young men. 
 
 The last year of my servitude was passed in 
 much more congenial employment than the super- 
 
Dartmoor. 333 
 
 intending prison clothes. It having been deter- 
 mined to build a new large prison at Dartmoor, 
 in which convicts could be confined in cells to do , 
 their ' separates,' as the first eleven or twelve 
 months' probationary imprisonment is termed, and 
 on the same system as at Millbant and Penton- 
 viUe, plans were prepared and the work set 
 about by the prisoners under the direction of the 
 Engineer or Clerk of the Works, Mr. W. A work 
 of such magnitude of course e^itailed a very con- 
 siderable augmentation of his duties, and necessi- 
 tated his having extra assistance. I was fortu- 
 nate in being selected as his clerk, 
 
 I have already told how I was stopped on 
 parade by the chief warder just before his de- 
 parture for Barbadoes. That day, at dinner- 
 . time, I was called out of the ward by the gover- 
 nor's messenger, and on being ushered into the 
 
 ' cage ' was confronted by Major H . I knew 
 
 not what was required of me; but that some 
 change was about to take place, I guessed from 
 the chief warder's conversation in the morning. 
 
 ' ,' said the Major, 'you understand ac- 
 counts, I believe, and book-keeping ? ' 
 
 ' Tes, sir, thoroughly.' 
 
334 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 ' Can you draw plans, and do you know any- 
 thing of engineering and the calculations required 
 by engineers and builders ? ' 
 
 'Yes, sir; I have had some little experience 
 in plan drawing, and can do any sort of calcula- 
 tions.' 
 
 ' Now , I am going to place you in a very- 
 responsible position for a prisoner, and I expect 
 you will not abuse the confid6nce placed in you. 
 
 Mr. W , the Clerk of the Works, requires 
 
 assisbance, and you have been named to me as a 
 fit man to assist him in his office. You will see 
 and hear a great deal more there than you do in 
 the prison, and I recommend you to keep it to 
 yourself and not retail it out to the prisoners. 
 You wOl have under your charge stores of all 
 sorts, and I trust you have too good sense to take 
 anything into the prison. You will have to go 
 all over the prison inside the walls, and if you 
 conduct yourself properly and do not abuse the 
 privileges the position will give you, you may 
 finish your time much easier than other men. 
 You will wear a special dress, and although great 
 confidence will be placed in you, I may as well 
 tell you that you wiU be very closely watched. 
 
Dartmoor. 
 
 335 
 
 Tou will remain in your old quarters in No. 3, 
 and be attached to the carpenter's gang under 
 Mr. Eastwood.' 
 
 'Thank you, sir,' I replied, quite astonished 
 at the whole affair ; ' I will do .my best to give 
 every satisfaction, and wiU take care no con- 
 fidence shall be abused by me.' 
 
 ' Mind you do.' 
 
 Just as I was leaving, the chief told the 
 warder to wait outside with me. In a few minutes 
 out he came. 
 
 ' Tell the master tailor to fit you vrith a 
 special suit, and have them ready for you to- 
 morrow morning; and after chapel fall in with 
 Mr. Eastwood's gang.' 
 
 'Yes, sir; thank you, sir; I am much obliged 
 for your recommendation.' 
 
 On going up after dinner to the tailor's shop, 
 I went into the cutting-room to Jemmy and told 
 him of my 'promotion.' This was indeed pro- 
 motion. 
 
 'It's well to be you,' said he; 'now I must 
 look out for a man to take your place. Who do 
 you think is a good man in the shop ? ' 
 
 'I really don't know, sir; there are several 
 
336 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 wlio can do it. I liad rather not suggest anyone 
 myseH.' 
 
 ' Do you tHnk Hayes would do, or is lie too 
 lazy?' 
 
 ' Tou can give liim a trial, sir.' 
 
 ' Tou can fit yourself up with a special dress. 
 Blue cloth breeches, drab jacket .with red cu£fs, 
 and first class blue facings and badge. What 
 gang are you to be attached to ? ' 
 
 * Carpenters.' 
 
 ' Then take a slop as well.' 
 
 ' I suppose I can help myself to new things, 
 sir ? ' I asked. 
 
 ' Tou can please yourself about that.' 
 
 So off to my table I went, and looked out a 
 special suit ; in which, if possible, a man looks 
 more hideous than in the ordinary costume. 
 
 Let the reader picture to himself the dress. 
 Grey woollen cap striped with scarlet; drab 
 jacket and vest, with a blue collar, and badge on 
 left arm, and scarlet cuffs ; blue breeches to the 
 knee, with blue-grey stockings embellished with 
 three scarlet rings round the legs an inch wide. 
 Add to aU tl^is an embellishment of the broad 
 arrow stamped in black all over, and conceive 
 anything more like a macaw If you can. 
 
Dartmoor. 337 
 
 The next morning I joined the carpenters' 
 gang on parade, and took up my position in the 
 rear as an outsider. On arriving at the carpen- 
 ters' shop I found an assistant warder ready to 
 conduct me to the clerk of the Works' office. This 
 is situate outside the inner gate looking on to 
 the spacious outer yard and the rear of the 
 governor's and deputy governor's houses. 
 
 On entering the office there was an old man, in 
 a warder's uniform, who I had never seen before. 
 
 He was then acting as clerk to Mr. W in 
 
 making up the daily work account. He had a 
 most singular stoop in his neck, that without any 
 bend of the back brought his chin down upon his 
 breast. I found him afterwards a very decent 
 fellow, who never interfered with me in any way, 
 and was only too glad to have me there to take 
 the work off his hands. The other, a little man, 
 out of uniform, who was engaged in sweeping up, 
 exclaimed, in strong Devonian accent — 
 
 ' Here, Mr. Bullivant, this be your new " buttie," 
 I 'spect.' 
 
 A buttie among Devon and Cornish miners is 
 the term used for an assistant or the labourer who 
 works with the skilled miner. 
 
 Z 
 
• 338 Five Years' Penal Servitude . 
 
 On his arrival I was introduced to Mr. "W- 
 
 the engineer and clerk of the works, and in the 
 coarse of a little time got into the routine of my 
 work. 
 
 The clerk of works' office and store is a small 
 one-storied building, standing by itself. Facing 
 the yard are two small offices. The outer one was 
 mine, the inner one Mr. W — ■ — 's. , At the rear 
 were store rooms, in which were kept tools, nails, 
 iron, brass, and all the things usually found 
 in an ironmonger's shop, with an oilman's com- 
 bined : soap, candles, oils, turpentine, paints, 
 borax, rosin — everything, ia fact, required in the 
 building and repairs of a large establishment. 
 My first orders were not to allow any of the 
 officers to enter those rooms, but to serve them out 
 myself what they required, and for which they 
 were to bring orders. These, I found, were very 
 needful instructions, for very many of the warders 
 and assistants were no more honest than the men 
 they were placed in charge of. 
 
 I soon found the new prison was a large affair, 
 and when I first saw the plans, and was asked 
 if I could get out the working drawings of the 
 details from the ;^-inch plan supplied, I began to 
 
Dartmoor. 339 
 
 realise I had plenty of work cut out for me. I 
 had to keep an account of all the work done in 
 the prison. The returns of every gang passed 
 through my hands, and from these, at the end of 
 the financial year, I had to compile the prison 
 accoimts, which I have since seen in the Parlia- 
 mentary Blue Books. 
 
 It was getting winter when I was first ap- 
 pointed, and when I saw two bright fires burning 
 in the two offices I felt comfortable at the pros- 
 pect. These fires were always lighted before I 
 arrived by the little man who called me ' buttie.' 
 
 Each day on arriving at the office I went into 
 
 Mr. W 's room to receive my special orders. I 
 
 then set off on a tour round the workshops to 
 collect the slates from the different warders in 
 charge of the gangs that gave in a daily return 
 of the work of their men. Hitherto I had never 
 moved from one ward to another without having 
 a warder to take charge of me. Now I roamed 
 alone anywhere and everywhere; of course only 
 where I had business to go. 
 
 My first visit was to the blacksmiths' shop, 
 where some sixty or seventy men were busy at all 
 manner of work in iron. The majority were 
 z 2 
 
340 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 making or repairing tools for tte quarrymen and 
 stonecutters, a very large number of whom were 
 now engaged in getting and dressing, granite for 
 the new prison. Here I received a slate, on 
 which was a list of the number of articles made, 
 repaired, sharpened, steeled, and pointed ; also of 
 horses shod, and an account of aU new material 
 used from stock. Men in the blacksmiths' shop 
 have two suits of clothes, one for work and one 
 for Sunday. Every man, of course, was stripped 
 of jacket and vest, and, having leather aprons on, 
 lost much of the convict appearance of other gangs. 
 But for the presence of the warders in their uni- 
 forms there was little difiference between these 
 shops and ordinary smiths' workshops in the;; 
 outer world. From there I went to the carpen- 
 ters' shed, and received a similar slate, giving an 
 account of work of all sorts, new things made 
 and materials used, men employed in repairs, 
 either in the prison or outside in the barracks 
 and cottages of the officers in Prince's Town. 
 Not only carpenters, but painters, paperh angers, 
 whitewashers, and tinsmiths worked in this gang. 
 Every wood or tin article used in the prison is 
 made and repaired in this shop, and a strict ac- 
 
Dartmoor. 341 
 
 count is kept even of tlie snuffers repaired. The 
 tinmen kept a slate for themselves. Every man 
 of the gang had his time' accounted for on one or 
 other of those slates, and those engaged in re- 
 pairs, painting, papering, or whitewashing officers' 
 quarters gave me a separate account, with full 
 particulars of the special quarters or rooms, and 
 what was done to each of them. 
 
 Then I proceeded to the stonecutting shed. 
 Here, instead of slates, the warders had books, in 
 which was entered every foot of stone cut, dressed, 
 and finished for the new prison. Before I left 
 there were nearly 400 men employed in these 
 stone-sheds. Granite, I need hardly teU. my 
 readers, is far from a soft material to cut and 
 ■ dress into shape ; and the vast number of steel 
 tools, chisels, bitts, &c., used by them not only 
 was prodigious, but, amounted to a good round 
 sum in money. The quarry gang warder, Mr. 
 Higson, who was also the officer of our associa- 
 tion room, gave me his book once a week, and I 
 received the shoemakers' and tailors' accounts 
 monthly. 
 
 On reaching the office with my slates I had to 
 enter up, with books I kept on purpose, the day's 
 
342 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 work of eacli gang ; and wlien I state tliat some 
 gangs did work nnder as many as thirty-seven 
 different headings the reader wUl see I could 
 find plenty to do. Throughout the day officers 
 were coming in for stores, which I delivered, and 
 for which they signed. As soon as I could get 
 my gang-books posted up I had drawings to do. 
 
 The new prison had originally been designed 
 for some other place, to be executed in brick. The 
 plan on quarter-inch scale was sent from head- 
 quarters to Dartmoor to be carried out in granite. 
 This entailed a good lot of work, and I nevet had 
 an idle moment. In the afternoon, too, I had 
 whatever correspondence there was from Mr. 
 W 's department, and wrote the needful or- 
 ders to tradesmen and manufacturers for stores, &c. 
 
 Mr. W 1 found an exceedingly good feUow. 
 
 Never once did he treat me as a prisoner, and on 
 many occasions consulted me on matters as if I 
 was a brother official. There were, however, some 
 of his subordinates who did not act in the same 
 way. Over the builders was a civil foreman, and 
 over the stonecutters a consequential little fellow 
 as ' instructor.' The foreman was a decent man 
 enough, but the little instructor was as thorough a 
 
Dartmoor. 343 
 
 little cad as ever stepped. Beyond a knowledge of 
 cutting stone his acquirements were nil. More than 
 once Mr. W had to ' bring him up to his bear- 
 ings with a short turn.' He used to delight in doing 
 anything he thought would annoy me. I never 
 made any advance to companionship with him, 
 and he resented it in many ways. He knew, of 
 course, that prisoners longed for tobacco. I was 
 an exception to this rule, and it was no denial to 
 me to go without it. I had never been a great 
 smoker, and had not smoked at all till I had arrived 
 at njiddle age. This little fellow, whose name was 
 " Beatson, would stand at the desk by the side of 
 me at work and cut up his tobacco, with a view 
 of tantalising me, thinking I was longing for some 
 of it. Once or twice he ventured upon giving me 
 some orders, but I quietly told him I would ask 
 
 Mr. W if it was to be done. I did so, and 
 
 W said I was to pay no attention to him. I 
 
 was frequently for hours by myself at work, the 
 only interruption being a visit from some warder 
 bringing a workman for stores of one kind or 
 another. At any and all hours of the 43-7 'the 
 governor and deputy governor would call in to 
 the office to look at any drawing in progress and 
 
344 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 walk out. At first I saluted, but was afterwards 
 told to go on with what I was engaged on, and 
 take no notice of their presence unless spoken to. 
 The directors would also look in, and sometimes 
 Captain S would ask a question. 
 
 Just as I was assailed when in charge of the 
 prison clothing was I now requested to bring all 
 manner of things out of the store to the men in 
 the prison, but I never took a single article. What 
 I required to use for myself in the office I helped 
 myseU to. The greatest temptation to me was 
 letter-writing. I had unlimited supplies of writing 
 materials, and even postage-stamps, and must own 
 that the temptation to write a letter home and 
 enclose it to some City friend was great. Mr. 
 
 W' simply instructed me to write to this firm 
 
 or that,' in all parts of the country as well as 
 London, and had I written a letter and enclosed 
 it to firms I knew in London there was little or 
 no fear of its being discovered. I had, however, 
 given my word to the governor I would not abuse 
 one single privilege, and I never did. 
 
 One special treat that I had was seeing nearly 
 every day a newspaper. This, I think, was an 
 oversight, and I don't believe the governor was 
 
Dartmoor. 345 
 
 aware I ever saw one. Mr. W had the 
 
 'Western Morning News,' a Plymouth paper, 
 every day, and nsed to leave it on his desk. 
 Whether he did so carelessly or with an intention 
 that I might see it if I liked, I know not. I did, 
 however, see it regularly, and the news I read I kept 
 to myself. It would have been far too dangerous 
 to have told anything to a fellow-prisoner. He 
 would have repeated it, and then questions would 
 have been asked how the information was obtained. 
 Papers did sometimes get into the prison in 
 the same way that tobacco found its way there : 
 of&cers would bring them to prisoners for a wn- 
 sideration. I remember one night we had a green 
 hand on night duty in our ward of the association 
 rooms, and he went to sleep. Before he had had 
 forty winks his pockets were picked, not only of 
 his tobacco-pouch, the real object of search, but 
 of a newspaper too. His watch and staff were 
 also taken, but these were given back to him in 
 
 J 
 
 the morning. Of course he said nothing about it, 
 for fear of committing himself for going to sleep. 
 
 It was very amusing how differently some of 
 the warders treated me in my new position, 
 seeing that I had it in my power to oblige many 
 
34^ Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 of them in various little ways, particularly those 
 whose quarters were being done up. Every GflS.eer 
 had certain quarters allotted to him, some in the 
 barracks and some in the cottages in Prince's Town. 
 At regular intervals these quarters were cleaned, 
 repapered, coloured, whitewashed, and painted. 
 I kept the lists, and had the power of nominating 
 whose should be done next. I say I had the 
 
 power, for so virtually I had. Mr. W left the 
 
 arrangement of these matters so entirely xa. my 
 hands that I could easily put an officer forward or 
 backward on the list to suit his convenience and 
 wish. As I gave the list to the clerk of the 
 works he would initial it, and in that rotation 
 the master carpenter, Mr. Eastwood, whose duty 
 it was to send men to the various quarters to do 
 the work, would carry .them out. Sometimes it 
 would siiit an officer to have his renovation 
 delayed for a few weeks. It suited his better half 
 probably to have her place done up later in the 
 season instead of earlier. In other cases the 
 parties were anxious to get their rooms beautified 
 as quickly as possible. 
 
 I was much amused at times at the little 
 jealousies as to patterns of wall-papers supplied 
 
Dartmoor. 347 
 
 for certain rooms. Whatever paper was served 
 out waie obliged to be used ; and as the choice of 
 what paper I delivered to the workmen calling on 
 their way with the officer in charge to do the 
 work rested entirely with me, I had several 
 messages from -Mr. Warder this or Mr. Warder 
 that. ' Would you please let me have the same as 
 used for quarters 19, in block B ?' or ' Don't, please, 
 send the green and yellow paper like No. 13 
 quarters, in the . cottages, are done with, as my 
 missus has seen it and she can't abide it.' 
 
 There was another thing that caused me to be 
 very civilly treated by officers who had been as 
 sharp and as curt as possible with me before. 
 Several of the warders in charge of gangs were 
 far from good hands at keeping their labour 
 accounts, and I had to make up many a week's 
 list for an officer from his memory. There was a 
 good deal of guesswork about it sometimes, I am 
 afraid. I had, of course, a most favourable oppor- 
 tunity of seeing a great deal of the working of 
 convict labour, and I paid particular attention to 
 aU that came under my own immediate notice. 
 
 There is a great deal of very fair work done 
 at Dartmoor, and I was surprised wTiat good 
 
348 Five Years' Penal Se'rvitude, 
 
 workmen many of the prisoners were, who, pre- 
 vious to being imprisoned, had never worked in 
 their lives ; but a convict's day's work will bear 
 no comparison with that of an outdoor free man. 
 What the outside gangs on the bogs may do I 
 know not, but I always considered a prisoner's 
 day's work-^say, for instance, a blacksmith or a 
 carpenter — ^not more than equal to half or two- 
 thirds of that of a tradesman outside. The time 
 men are actually at work is not more than seven 
 hours, and in winter six, and they do not reaUy 
 work anything like so hard as free men. Of course 
 there is no heart in a slave's or a prisoner's 
 labour. Every man does as little as he possibly 
 can. So long as what he does will pass muster, 
 and he gets his marks, it is all a man cares for. 
 Certainly prisoners are not fed as free workmen 
 earning good wages are, and have not the same 
 amount of stamina and physique ; but, making due 
 allowance for aU that, I do not consider the 
 average convict at Dartmoor can be said to work 
 hard. There are some Exceptions, particularly in 
 the bog gangs. Dry walling is hard work occa- 
 sionally. This consists of building walls and 
 fences round the various fields and plots of land 
 
Dartmoor. 349 
 
 taken into cultivation and reclaimed from the 
 wilderness. The walls are constructed of loose 
 rough stones without mortar, and sometimes when 
 the stones run large the labour of lifting them is 
 heavy. Sometimes, too, a gang will have a hard 
 taskmaster in their warder, who wiU take a 
 delight in taxing men's strength. 
 
 While I was at Dartmoor a case occurred of 
 a man's death being caused by the harshness of a 
 warder. It was in a walling party. Two men 
 tried to lift a stone that had been previously rolled 
 upon a handbarrow, to carry it to the place it 
 was required to be used. They tried and tried 
 in vain. The ofiicer refused to allow more than 
 the two men to take the barrow, and insisted on 
 their doing it by themselves, threatening to report 
 them for laziness if they did not. One of the 
 men was due to write home the next week. A 
 report would lose him this privilege as well as 
 the receiving a letter in reply. He tried again, 
 put forth all his strength, and strained himself 
 internally to such an extent that he fell to the 
 ground, and before they could bring him into the* 
 infirmary he was past all earthly reports or 
 punishments. 
 
350 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 His work in this world was over, he re-entered 
 the prison gates carried on the handbarrow he 
 had tried in yain to lift, borne by four of his fellow- 
 prisoners, who marched straight to the infirmary 
 dead-house, there to leave him till viewed by the 
 coroner's jury. Those at home who were looking 
 forward to receiive the leliter. he was so anxious to 
 write would doubtless, after waiting some weeks 
 in suspense at not hearing, write to enquire the 
 reason of his silence, and in reply would receive 
 the cold official notification that No. 00,001, the 
 prisoner John Jones, died on such a; day of ' disease 
 of the heart,' or some other convenient name 
 brought forward by the doctor to comply with the 
 legal requirements of ' crowner's law,' and cover 
 another of the many barbarous mishaps — I was 
 going to write murders — of tyrannical warders. 
 
 The opinions I had fqrmerly entertained of the 
 warders and assistant warders as a body were 
 fuUy confirmed when my position in the office of 
 
 Mr. W gave me opportunities of seeing them 
 
 under other circumstances. I am thoroughly 
 aware of the great difficulty the authorities must 
 have in getting really efficient men for these posi- 
 tions ; indeed, I only wonder they manage to get 
 
Dartmoor. 351 
 
 so many good ones as they do, considering the 
 source from which the majority are recruited. I 
 am more than ever convinced that retired soldiers 
 and sailors should be brought into this service to 
 a greater extent than they are at present. Their 
 former training fits them for the position. They 
 are used to discipline themselves, and exercise their 
 authority much better than those who have been 
 brought fresh from loafing about the world. They 
 themselves know how to obey, and that gives them a 
 better knowledge of how to command. The schem- 
 ing and intriguing that goes on among the warders 
 one against the other no one but those who have 
 to do with them can conceive. There was , hardly- 
 one in the whole official corps at Dartmoor that 
 would not do his best to intrigue a fellow-warder 
 from his berth with a view of bettering himself. 
 They watched each other and reported each other 
 almost as keenly as they did the prisoners. 
 
 ITrom my office window I saw every fresh lot 
 of prisoners as on arrival they marched down the 
 yard, and also every gang that left the prison for 
 other stations. I also saw those who, having com- 
 pleted their terms of servitude, left the prison to 
 be discharged. 
 
352 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 Discharges take place in various ways. As 
 already stated, when a man is first of all convicted 
 his clothing is confiscated, and on his discharge 
 the prison authorities give him others in their 
 place. There is no item in the whole system that 
 requires more thorough revision than this. Two 
 courses are adopted. If a man joins the Prisoners' 
 Aid Society, he has a small sum allowed to him, 
 which is handed over to the society to purchase 
 clothing ; but if he does not an outfit is given to 
 him, every article of which, except the boots, bears 
 upon it the unmistakable mark of the convict 
 prison, A man may just as well wear his ticket- 
 of-leave in the front of his hat as the clothes given 
 to him on leaving prison. If he is a bricklayer or 
 a farm labourer a good serviceable new suit of 
 corduroy is given to him that is suitable for him 
 and likely to do him good service. Moreover 
 there is no prison brand about it, but with the 
 other clothes it is quite different. I don't mean 
 that the other clothes are marked with Her 
 Majesty's broad arrow, or are stamped with any 
 brand of the prison, but they are made of a 
 material so thoroughly well known as prison stuff 
 that every policem an knows the wearer has just 
 emerged from a convict establishment. 
 
Dartmoor. 353 
 
 The clottes men leave Dartmoor in are cut well, 
 made well, and fitted well, and as far as the work- 
 manship is concerned are a credit to the tailors' 
 shop. Each man is measured by the master tailor, 
 but the material is such utter trash that a fortnight's 
 wear and one shower of rain reduce them to mere 
 rags. I doubt if any Jew slop-shop in London makes 
 up such perfectly worthless stuff. It is the very 
 commonest shoddy imitation of tweed, with a twill 
 or pattern printed on it, to make it look like a 
 common Yorkshire tweed. Such goods are made 
 for export and are seldom or ever used in this 
 country, being far too common. A very little extra 
 cost for the material would give a man a service- 
 able suit of clothes. Is it fair or right to turn a 
 man out of prison and expect him to pursue honest 
 courses when every possible impediment is placed 
 in his way ? I will venture to say that not one 
 suit of clothes I saw go from Dartmoor would 
 stand a month's wear out of doors. A classifica- 
 tion should be made of prisoners as to their posi- 
 tions prior to conviction, and the means they are 
 about to adopt to earn a living on emerging into 
 the world again. Let us take the case of a man 
 who as a clerk has been convicted of embezzle- 
 A A 
 
354 Pi'"^ Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 ment. He leaves the prison and has to seek a 
 similar employment to that he has been used to. 
 His friends (!) are suggested as the parties to help 
 him. Tes, if he has any, but 9& out of 100 such 
 men who get into trouble of this kind come out 
 to find they have no friends, and as for their rela- 
 tives, with the exception of a mother or a loving 
 vnfe, they simply igncarehim and express astonish- 
 ment at his daring to come near them after having 
 disgraced his family, and their good name. It is 
 small help he gets from them. His once large 
 circle of friends give him the cold shoulder, and he 
 finds he has to struggle with a hostile world by 
 himself. How is he fitted to attempt this without 
 a fair start in the shape of decent clothes ? Why 
 take pains to measure a man, and spend skilled 
 labour in cutting and making well-fitting clothes 
 out of such a material that is utterly useless? 
 
 The under clothes are many of them good. 
 The stockings and flannels are excellent. The 
 shirts, if fDr a working man, and blue striped^ are 
 capital both in material and work. Of the white 
 shirts, the less that is said the better, except for 
 night-shirts. The materials of the boots in 
 general are of good quality, the workmanship first- 
 
Dartmoor. 355 
 
 rate, far superior to the bulk of ready-made 
 boots sold in shops. The hat, nothing can be 
 worse ; it alone makes a man an object of sus- 
 picion. 
 
 I have been told that, providing a man goes 
 straight &om prison to Monmouth Street, Soho, 
 or to Eosemaiy Lane, Minories, and is lucky 
 enough not to be caught in the rain on his way, 
 the clothes dealers will allow him 6s. for the 
 whole turn-out of coat, trowsers, vest, hat, and 
 handkerchiefs. These they- use for export, as 
 no one ia this country would buy such arrant 
 rubbish. 
 
 I would, if possible, draw the attention of the 
 directors of convict prisons to this subject. A 
 very little more outlay would give discharged 
 men good and suitable clothes to reappear in the 
 world. The drab cloth of which the convicts' 
 jackets are made is far superior. In fact, if they 
 supplied the same stuff of various and darker 
 coloiu-s, the men would have clothes that would 
 do them service, and give them an opportunity to 
 make a little headway in the world. I am imder 
 the impression that neither the prison authorities 
 nor the police care to encourage men to reform, 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 or to give them a fair chance of doing so. Their 
 idea is that if men did reform, and did take to 
 honest courses, instead of our prisons having to 
 be periodically enlarged, and our police force in- 
 creased, bringing promotion and new appoint- 
 ments, a falling off in both branches of the ser- 
 vice vrould take place, and Othello's occupation 
 would be gone from many of them who now look 
 complacently on, and when a man is brought 
 back for a second or a third ' lagging,' smile know- 
 ingly and say, ' Just as I expected.' 
 
 The prisoner who goes to the Prisoners' Aid 
 Society in London does not take these shoddy 
 clothes, but is sent up to town for discharge, 
 and the society, out of the funds allowed, buy him 
 some secondhand clothes to appear decent in the 
 street with. During a man's servitude he earns 
 a small sum of money, which is enough to Jceep 
 him for a few days, or perhaps a week or so after 
 leaving. 
 
 A prisoner who has been convicted in the pro- 
 vinces does not go to London for discharge, but, 
 on being rigged out in the clothes I have en- 
 deavoured to describe, is taken down to the rail- 
 way station at Horrabridge. Here another official 
 
Dartmoor. 357 
 
 blunder takes place. An officer goes with him, 
 and at the station takes a special convict's ticket 
 for him to his destination, whither he is bound, 
 wherever he was convicted from, or his home in 
 that county. It is not enough that the man has 
 a suit of clothes that tells every official on the 
 railway, and every policeman, and in fact every- 
 one else that he is a discharged convict, but his 
 very railway ticket confirms the fact. 
 
 Why need this be ? Would not an ordinary 
 ticket suffice ? By aU means let a warder go and 
 take his ticket, and see him off, taking care he 
 books for the right place, but do not let the 
 ticket be such a one the man is ashamed to show 
 before his fellow-travellers. It is a useless piece 
 of precaution, and really defeats its own ends, if 
 those ends are the giving the man a fair chance 
 for a new start in life. The man has a few shil- 
 lings given to him, and the rest of his money he 
 obtains on presenting himself and his licence, or 
 ticket-of-leave. 
 
 Then he has to fight his own way, reporting 
 himself to the police every month. A very good 
 arrangement, providing the police do not hunt the 
 man out of honest employment. I am now speak- 
 
358 Five Yeari^ Penal Servitude. 
 
 ing on behalf of those who are desirous of return- 
 ing to honest courses. I know too well that many, 
 too many by far, have not the remotest intention 
 of ever trying to live honestly. I have heard of 
 men who have actually committed robbery in the 
 railway train on their way home from prison. 
 These are hard nuts to crack and require very 
 different treatment to what they receive. 
 
 A man who has been convicted in London is 
 sent there for discharge. If he is a Prisoners' 
 Aid Society's man he travels up in convict's dress, 
 if not he goes up in the rig-out I have described. A 
 warder goes with him or them, as the case may be. 
 
 Here occurs another anomaly. The man con- 
 victed in the provinces leaves Dartmoor without 
 handcuffs, and with his hands and Hmbs free. He 
 who is to be taken to London Sfor discharge is 
 manacled and handcufEed as if he were fresh caught. 
 "Why is this ? No man going up for discharge is 
 at all likely to run away from the warder. Until 
 he IS completely discharged he has no licence, and 
 if he did abscond he would be liable to arrest as a 
 convict at liberty without leave. The handcuffing 
 of a man in such circumstances is another of the 
 official blunders — a cruel mistake. So long as 
 
Dartmoor. 359 
 
 he has any time to serve, and there is any induce- 
 ment for him to run away, chain him up by all 
 means. As a convict in a convict's dress, cropped 
 and clipped, few, if any, would recognise him. 
 When he goes up to London on his discharge 
 joumey,he has grown his hair, beard, and whiskers, 
 and is dressed in what the authorities consider 
 civilian costume. He travels with other people 
 who are also bound to London, and who, seeing 
 him handcuffed, know very well his steel bracelets 
 are not the insignia of honour. The chances are 
 they may particularly notice the man, and one may 
 probably see him a week or two afterwards when 
 they will recognise him as a character to be avoided. 
 If the intentions of the authorities are to give the 
 man a fair start in life and a real chance to retrieve 
 himself and get into an honest course of life, that 
 is not the way to do it, and the sooner the order is 
 rescinded the better. 
 
 On arrival at Paddington, the warder takes his 
 charge in a cab to the Queen's Bench Prison in 
 the iBorough — the old celebrated prison for gen- 
 tlemen debtors. Chancery victims, and first-class 
 misdemeanants ; the prison from which Lord Coch- 
 rane escaped ; the place of which Sheridan said no 
 
360 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 man's education was completed till he had been in 
 the Bench. No longer are debtors or Chancery 
 victims confined there ; no longer are its walls 
 marked out into racquet courts. It has been a 
 soldiers' prison ever since the laws for imprisonment 
 for debt were revised, but it is now abandoned for 
 that purpose and is merely used as a place from 
 whence to discharge convicts. Men leave Dart- 
 moor on Monday night, arriving at the Bench, or 
 Queen's Prison on Tuesday morning, where they 
 remain doing nothing till the day of their discharge, 
 which takes place one day during the same week. 
 I had omitted to say that every prisoner is 
 photographed prior to leaving Dartmoor, and his 
 carte-de-visite supplied to the various police ofiSces 
 he has to go to for report. On the Wednesday aU 
 the prisoners for discharge that week have arrived 
 at the Bench, and in the morning a number of 
 detectives come and take stock of them aU. The 
 men stand in a row, and the detectives from both 
 Scotland Yard and Old Jewry together, with 
 policemen from other stations, come and make 
 themselves fully acquainted with the men who are 
 to be let loose in their districts. Each man is 
 compared with his photograph and the written 
 
Dartmoor. 361 
 
 description of him. Of some men the police take 
 no notice, or very little. Others they take special 
 care to become thoroughly acquainted with in 
 every position, and examine them most carefully. 
 They know perfectly well who are likely to be 
 in their hands again and who are not. Of me, 
 when I was there, they hardly condescended to 
 take any notice whatever. One certainly did say, 
 ' Oh, you're not one of our birds,' and passed me 
 
 by- 
 
 I could not but compare the liberation of some 
 of the men I saw discharged to the uncarting the 
 deer at Windsor, to whom a certain amount of law 
 is given prior to the royal hounds being started off 
 in pursuit. 
 
 Prisoners on licence, generally termed ticket- 
 of-leave men, have to report themselves once every 
 month at the police-station of the district where 
 they reside, and to show how they are earning 
 their living. I need hardly say that no men pro- 
 nounce themselves as thieves by trade, and every- 
 one has what is termed a ' stall,' i.e. he professes 
 to be some handicraft or trade by which to desig- 
 nate himself, and which is a blind or stall to his 
 real proceedings. If a man moves from one dis- 
 
362 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 trict in London to another, or from one part of the 
 country to another, he must, within twenty-four 
 hours of his arrival, report himself at the nearest 
 police-station. 
 
 In my case I obviated all difficulty about the 
 matter. On obtaining my liberty I went as fast 
 as a four-wheeler could carry me to where I had 
 appointed decent clothes to be sent to me. These 
 I put on, glad to get once more into the habits of 
 civilisation. I then walked straight to the chief 
 office in Whitehall Place — ^not the Scotland Yard 
 entrance — ^reported myself and stated my intention 
 to leave England. 
 
 In a few days the Channel was crossed, and 
 when my twelvemonths ticket was expired I had 
 the satisfaction of tearing it up and dropping it 
 overboard as I returned again to England to en- 
 deavour to resume my place among friends and 
 society. A monthly report to the police in my 
 case meant absolute ruin, and I took good care to 
 avoid it. 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 363 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS, EEFLEOTIONS, AND SUGGESTIONS. 
 
 Now, having told my plain, unvarnished tale, let 
 us consider what are the effects of the present 
 convict system. What are its objects ? Are those 
 objects attained, and in the best possible way ? 
 
 It would be quite impossible to devise a per- 
 fect system that should meet all cases. That the 
 present one is not only far from faultless, but 
 fails to give satisfaction even to those who are 
 placed at the head of the convict department to 
 administer it, there can be no doubts 
 
 The. objects of our convict system and im- 
 prisonment of wrongdoers are, or should be, 
 threefoldi-^lst, the punishment of those who have 
 transgressed the laws of the country, and the 
 deterring others from crime; 2nd, -the getting 
 rid of the troublesome and criminal portion of the 
 
364 Five Years Pettal Servitude. 
 
 population; and 3rd, the doing all this in the 
 most efficient and least costly way to the tax- 
 paying British public. 
 
 1st. — ^The punishment of those who have trans- 
 gressed the laws of the country. — The glaring eyil 
 of the present system is the want of some proper 
 mode of classification of prisoners, and the mixing 
 up together of comparatively innocent men, and 
 young men in particular, with hardened old of- 
 fenders — professed thieves, who, if they could earn 
 money honestly, prefer to earn a less amount by 
 evil and dishonest means — ^men whom no amount 
 of imprisonment, as at present carried out, can, 
 or has reclaimed, and who come back time after 
 time, ' lagging ' after ' lagging,' till death at last, 
 in the prison infirmary, closes their career. 
 
 The opruion I have formed, based on four long 
 years' experience, is that the mixing of prisoners 
 together is radically bad, and should at all cost 
 be done away with. Men who are imprisoned for 
 a first offence, whether it be in a county gaol or a 
 convict prison, should most certainly be kept per- 
 fectly distinct from 'second timers,' and not on 
 any account be brought into contact with old 
 offenders, who in too many cases simply com- 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 365 
 
 plete their education in vice. The punishment of 
 penal servitude falls very unequally upon different 
 classes. To a large number of criminals it is 
 merely so many years being shut up in prison, 
 restricted from doing their own will, and being 
 compelled to labour, to a certain extent, whether 
 they like it or not. 
 
 To the man in a good position, it is moral 
 death, accompanied with ruin and disgrace to his 
 family and relatives. The actual punishment to 
 men' in my position is not the confinement, the 
 coarse but wholesome food, the discomforts, and 
 work : it is the terrible fall in social position, the 
 stigma that clings to a man not only aU his life, 
 but, after his life is ended, to his children. So 
 eminently charitable are Christians in this present 
 age, that they can seldom or ever forgive detected 
 crime, even after it is expiated by long years of 
 slavery and imprisonment. They delight in point- 
 ing the finger of scorn at the man, and the 
 children of the man, not who has merely sinned, 
 but who has been detected sinning, and has been 
 legally punished for it. It is not the sin society 
 finds so hard to forgive, so much as the being 
 detected, comiicted, and punished for it. A man 
 
366 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 •who is, -without a doubt, guilty, but who, by the 
 dexterity of his counsel, some quibble of the law, 
 or some fatal flaw in the indictment, gets off, can 
 return unblushing to the world and resume his 
 old position ; but only let him be guilty, not of 
 the sin, but of being legally convicted and sen- 
 tenced — ^let him be, in fact, a convict, and society 
 regards him as a leper ever after. So long as a 
 man escapes actual conviction at a criminal bar, 
 he can hold up his head in both private and com- 
 mercial society ; but let him only once be actually 
 found guilty, no matter under what amount of 
 what our French neighbours call 'extenuating 
 circumstances,' and the chances are fearfally 
 against his ever reinstating himself in his former 
 position — at any rate, where he has lived before. 
 There are at this moment men occupying promi- 
 nent positions in the commercial world of London 
 that I could name who have really been guilty of 
 what would have given them sentences of many 
 years' penal servitude, had the matters come out 
 at the time. 
 
 I can instance several who have, of my own 
 knowledge, been guilty of far more than I received 
 a sentence of five years for, who are looked upon 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 367 
 
 by those of the world who do not know them as I 
 do, and by themselves especially, as paragons of 
 all that is honourable and respectable. 
 
 One case, in particular, is that of a man, in an 
 extensive way of business in the great centre of 
 the City, whose advertisements appear from time 
 to time in the newspapers, and who is not only 
 connected with more than one member of the 
 City Corporation, but has himself assisted in the 
 civic government as a member of its Common 
 Council. This man, a few years ago, became in- 
 volved in some transactions that would have 
 brought him very unpleasantly within the grip 
 of the criminal law, but for the strenuous and 
 Herculean exertions, almost night and day, of one 
 of his brothers, who succeeded in so arranging 
 matters that he was extricated from the diffi- 
 culty. A prisoner at Dartmoor would express the 
 matter in fewer words, and say at once, 'The 
 thing was squared.' The brother whose exertions 
 saved him from a criminal prosecution is since 
 dead, and the man I allude to has testified his 
 gratitude by coalescing with another brother to 
 rob his widowed sister-in-law and her children 
 of valuable property ; and they are now in strait- 
 
368 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 ened circumstances, while the two brothers are 
 enjoying what should be the orphans' and the 
 widow's. StiU he is eminently respectable. There 
 are some in the City who know of his former 
 * little difficulty,' and what a narrow escape he 
 had; but then he was wof found guilty or con- 
 victed, and, therefore, by the rules of society, he 
 has a right to hold up his head. I Suppose he 
 would consider it a disgrace to walk on the same 
 pavement with me, who have been convicted and 
 who have suffered the degradation of penal servi- 
 tude all through just such another as himself. 
 
 No man's history can be written till he is dead. 
 It would not surprise me if some of the concluding 
 chapters in those brothers' history, and some others 
 I could name, contain a few pages that will greatly 
 astonish many of their acquaintances and the 
 world at large. 
 
 One thing that is required is that a man's 
 first offence and punishment should not be made 
 to last through his whole life in its consequences. 
 A man becomes a bankrupt, he undergoes all the 
 punishment, I may almost caU it, of that position. 
 He receives a certificate and resumes his place in 
 the world. The world welcomes him, and, pro- 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 369 
 
 vided he is successful and makes money, is actually 
 kind enough, if not to entirely forget he was ever 
 bankrupt, at least to become oblivious of the ugly 
 fact so far as never to allude to it. Society will 
 readily tolerate a man becoming bankrupt twice 
 or even thrice, so long as he rises again after each 
 successive fall. Why cannot society be equally as 
 tolerant with the man who has made one false 
 step or become entangled in matters that have 
 brought him into a criminal court, and who has 
 suffered his punishment — has got his certificate of 
 discharge — equally with the bankrupt? Why 
 should not the one be considered as much a dis- 
 charge as the other ? If a man again does wrong 
 and brings himself within criminal jurisdiction, 
 then society is quite right in turning its virtuous 
 back upon him, and I think he not only deserves 
 society's treatment of 'taboo,' but that in his 
 punishment he should be very differently dealt 
 with than on the first occasion. 
 
 Unfortunately, society is 'righteous over much,' 
 and it finds it as difficult to pardon the convicted 
 felon, be he ever so penitent, as it does to forgive 
 a woman who falls from her purity, and is found 
 out, no matter under what circumstances of per- 
 BB 
 
370 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 jury and deception on tlie part of her seducer she 
 may have succumbed. 
 
 Some quarter of a century ago, a very cruel 
 case came to my knowledge. A man returned 
 from Australia and brought with him his grown- 
 up family and also considerable wealth. He opened 
 a branch house in London in connection with his 
 old business in the colony, shipping goods from 
 here to there. A year or two after his opening 
 the London house, the discovery of gold at 
 Bathurst in New South Wales was made, and the 
 Australian gold fever set in, with what vigour 
 many of my readers will remember. His colonial 
 knowledge enabled him to ship judiciously, and he 
 also shipped largely. 
 
 In some matter of business he was concerned, 
 a dispute took*' place that came for settlement 
 in a legal court. The returned colonist was sub- 
 poenaed as a witness and entered the box to give 
 evidence. The opposing counsel, in cross-exami- 
 nation, suddenly asked him a question that per- 
 fectly astonished the whole court. 
 
 ' Were you ever transported ? ' 
 
 The witness was surprised at the question^ and 
 turned white and then red. He was a truthful 
 man and on his oath. 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 371 
 
 ' Yes ! forty-three years ago, but under circum- 
 stances I can — ^ — ' 
 
 ' Never mind the circumstances, sir. The fact 
 is all I want to know. I have no further question 
 to ask this witness.' 
 
 The poor fellow was debarred the right of 
 making any explanation — though that came out 
 when too late. There was the naked, ghastly fact. 
 Forty and three years ago, when quite a lad, he 
 had been found guilty of felony and was trans- 
 ported. That was quite enough for virtuous 
 society, both comuiercial and fashionable. The 
 man's credit was ruined. In a month he was in 
 the Gazette, for everyone rushed at him who had 
 any dealings with him and pulled him to pieces 
 for money. In three months he died of a broken 
 heart. His ventures and estate were all sacrificed, 
 as such things are in bankruptcy, and the property 
 he had honestly earned in Australia went to the 
 winds of heaven.' 
 
 Afterwards the whole of the facts of the case 
 came out to a few who had known him here, but 
 who never for one moment ever suspected he had 
 worn a convict's dress. 
 
 When quite a young man. at college, he and 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 a young nobleman started from Oxford on an out- 
 ing, as many young collegians did in those days, 
 and they hired for their purpose a horse and gig. 
 They drove from place to place and at last found 
 themselves at Bristol, short of cash, and their leave 
 from college close on expiring. At Bristol they 
 could get no funds. Post was slow in those days. 
 In an evil moment they determined to sell the 
 horse and gig to defray their hotel' bill and pay 
 their fares back bj coach to Oxford, where the 
 young nobleman could at once get cash and pay 
 ' the damage ' to the jobmaster who had let the 
 conveyance. Good intentions are not always car- 
 ried out. The jobmaster heard of the sale of his 
 horse and gig before the young travellers returned, 
 and he took criminal proceedings. The commoner 
 had effected the sale, and so there was no case 
 against the nobleman. The yoiing man was pro- 
 secuted, sentenced to seven years' transportation, 
 and sent to New Sputh Wales. There he served 
 his time, started in business and did well. He 
 was an honest man and became a thriving one. 
 In time he married, and unfortunately, after forty 
 years, had an inclination to return to Old Eng- 
 land's shores. With what result the reader 
 
Observations, Reflections^ and Suggestions. 373 
 
 knows. Englislj virtuous society received the 
 rich Australian merchant, but could not forgive 
 the ' convict,' though so many years had passed — 
 though his sentence had been all worked out, and 
 he had by dint of honest labour raised himself to 
 eminence and wealth. _ 
 
 Criminals, even those convicted for the first 
 time, may be divided into two classes. The one 
 consisting of those who have deliberately and in 
 cool blood, if I may use the expression, set to work 
 to rob or defraud, and those who have been led 
 astray by others, or have given way to a strong 
 temptation in a moment of difficulty. The one 
 starts with the full intention of committing a dis- 
 honest act whatever it may be, whether a burglary, 
 robbery from the person, or a deliberately con- 
 cocted swindle. The other, in a moment of pres- 
 sure and temptation, in the hope of saving himself 
 from further difficulty, or to stop a gap, does 
 a wrong and criminal act with every intention 
 of putting the matter right when in his power. 
 He either forges a name or makes use of money 
 in his hands that is not his. own — in fact, em- 
 bezzles. 
 
 I cannot but consider there is a great differ- 
 
374 -^^^^ Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 ence between the two men, and they should be 
 treated differently. I well remember once hearing 
 a City man make an observation relative to some 
 transactions that attracted a good deal of notice 
 at the time, connected with a large and important 
 bankruptcy. ' When a man,' said he, ' is unduly 
 pressed by adverse circumstances, and is driven 
 for the moment into a tight corner, he is very apt 
 to do that which is not strictly constitutional.' 
 It is just so. There is no doubt but very many 
 men of business, who are regarded by the commer- 
 cial world as of unimpeachable character, have 
 frequently extricated themselves from tight corners 
 by means which, if closely examined, would be 
 found to be not strictly 'constitutional.' The 
 thing has gone right and no one is the wiser. It is 
 only when the corner is too tight, and the means 
 fail and the thing goes wrong, that the world hears 
 of it. I do not know how the prison statistics 
 would bear me out; but my impression is that 
 men convicted and punished for crimes that may be 
 termed ' commercial lapses ' — say, embezzlement, 
 forgery, and breach of trust — are seldom, if ever, 
 guilty a second time ; while, on the other hand, 
 the thieving and swindling class of prisoners 
 
Observations, Reactions, and Suggestions. 375 
 
 return to their evil practices like the sow to 
 her wallowing, and are convicted time after 
 time. 
 
 These two classes should be kept as much as 
 possible distant, and men undergoing punishment 
 for first offences should on no account be mixed up 
 with hardened and confirmed rogues. I speak from 
 my own experience. Not only have I become 
 acquainted with more of what is bad and evil, 
 together with the schemes and dodges of profes- 
 sional thieves and swindlers, during the four years 
 I ' served the Queen for nothing,' than I should 
 have done in fifty years outside prison walls ; but 
 had I been a man of naturally dishonest tenden- 
 cies, I might have fallen into the temptation, 
 swallowed the bait, and have formed alliances for 
 a future life of villany and crime. 
 
 Some of the plans I have had suggested to me 
 have been most ingenious. I have already alluded 
 to two of them in previous pages. The importance 
 of this separation and classification cannot be too 
 strongly urged upon the attention of the Directors 
 of Convict Prisons, and of those who contemplate 
 legislation on the subject. I think myself that long 
 sentences, as at present carried out, are a mistake, 
 
376 Five Years Penal Servitude. 
 
 and particularly for first offences. Shorter periods 
 of imprisonment, and that of a much severer nature 
 as regards discipline, food, and treatment altoge- 
 ther, I believe would be found to be more effective, 
 and it would not lead to so much evil in its effects 
 on the families of men convicted. 
 
 The number of wives that ' go wrong,' whose 
 husbands are way for long periods, are very great. 
 After an absence of one or two years the husband 
 seems dead, and gets forgotten. Temptations 
 arise, and become less resistable as time goes on. 
 More women whose husbands are convicted for 
 long periods have taken to loose courses than 
 people would imagine. I have already named 
 one party for whom I appealed to the chaplain at 
 Dartmoor. I heard of several others. The wife 
 of the postman, who was in Newgate with me, 
 remained true and virtuous for two years, when 
 patience became exhausted. An absent husband 
 was no husband. Her needlework brought in 
 but a small sum to help the parish allowance for 
 the provision of her children, and when, at the 
 end of the third year of his imprisonment a bene- 
 volent lady called on her with news from her 
 husband she found her with an infant in her arms 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 377 
 
 tlie result of a connection with a man she was 
 then living ' tally ' with. 
 
 There is plenty of room for the discipline being 
 made much more severe than it is, and if the 
 periods were made in the first instan'ce shorter 
 there are many alterations that might be made, 
 both ia the dietary scale and the bedding comforts 
 to render the punishment much sharper than it is 
 at present. I believe a really severe short sentence 
 of one year would, as a deterrent from future evil 
 courses, be much more efficacious than five or 
 seven years as it now is. 
 
 For second comers the treatment, so long as it 
 falls short of cruelty, cannot be too severe. Flog- 
 ging has, I understand, done a great deal in stop- 
 ping garrotting and such-like crimes. Let this 
 also be applied for all professionals who come for 
 a second time into the convict prisons. Flogging 
 would be much more effectual than it is if it were 
 divided out into small doses. Say a man is sen- 
 tenced to three dozen with the cat. He gets it 
 generally in Newgate before going to the convict 
 establishments. At the moment, no doubt, he is 
 most repentant, but by the time his seven or ten 
 years are worked out, he forgets it to a great 
 
378 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 extent. Let it be given in three doses of a dozen 
 each. One, as now, given on starting. One, 
 when half his time is done, and 'the remaining 
 dozen a week before his being set at liberty. I 
 am not a betting man, but would be inclined to" 
 lay odds on the beneficial effects of this treatment. 
 I have ever found the professionals to be rank 
 curs and cowards. The looking forward to the 
 second and third floggings would work wonders 
 on such men, and the last dose would be so recent 
 as to prevent its impression from wearing out 
 before he re-entered the outer world, and sought 
 to get a living somehow. I will venture to say 
 very few would be in a hurry to resume their old 
 games immediately. This would work one good 
 effect. The dread of further lashings would 
 actually drive the man into seeking honest em- 
 ployment, and if that is once entered into, and 
 the man is not hunted out of it by any too of&cious 
 policemen the chances are greatly in favour of his 
 sticking to the work, and giving no further 
 trouble to the prison authorities. Let it be tried 
 and see how it works. It needs no fresh legisla- 
 tion. Only let the Judge, who sentences the next 
 man to a flogging as part of his punishment, give 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 379 
 
 directions for tlie same to be applied in three 
 doses. Tliese alterations would, I am confident, 
 act as strong deterrents against crime of all sorts. 
 Secondly. The getting rid of the troublesome 
 and criminal population of the country. This 
 reopens the much discussed question of resuming 
 transportation ; and if only a suitable place — New 
 Guinea, for instance — can be secured, to which 
 convicts, on second convictions for long sentences, 
 can be sent to, there can be no doubt but it would 
 be better than crowding together in English pri- 
 sons a number of men. When the good results of 
 former conArict colonisation in Australasia are re- 
 viewed, would it not be well worthy some greater 
 effort than has been made to establish another? 
 When men have served their time out in a colony 
 they have a much fairer start in life again there 
 than in the Mother Country, and the old system 
 of tickets-of-leave, letting men out to work for 
 masters, was found in the main, I believe, to work 
 satisfactorily. Anything must be better than the 
 keeping up such gigantic convict establishments 
 as are at present dotted over this country. The 
 Association Eooms at Dartmoor are as bad as it is 
 possible for anything to be, I know not if there 
 
380 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 are any such in other convict prisons, but they 
 are really merely large class-rooms in the collge 
 of vice, where all are alike students and pro- 
 fessors, every man learning something from his 
 companion, and imparting his own knowledge in 
 viUany in return, till the whole become perfect in 
 their knowledge of what is wrong, of the best and 
 easiest way of pursuing dishonest courses, and the 
 cleverest and most efficient modes of evading de- 
 tection, and carrying on the war against their 
 natural enemies the ' coppers,' or police. Short, 
 severe sentences, during which all verbal commu- 
 nication between prisoners is rendered impossible, 
 I feel sure would bear much more satisfactory 
 fruit than the present system, which simply, in 
 most instances, merely completes the man's 
 vicious and criminal education, instead of in the 
 slightest degree reforming him. 
 
 Possibly directors of prisons or visiting magi- 
 strates, if any such should ever read these pages, 
 will say: We frequently inspect the convict 
 establishments and we never see any of these evils. 
 No doubt they do, but let the gentlemen of Par- 
 liament Street next time deviate a little from their 
 regular routine. 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 38 1 
 
 When the director is coming down to Dart- 
 moor it is known a few days beforehand, and the 
 place is prepared for his visit. Much he should 
 not see is put out of sight. In my position, both 
 in the tailor's shop and the engineer's office I saw 
 a good deal of this preparation for the director's 
 visit. Let one or two of them run down by night 
 train to Dartmoor without any notice — not even 
 letting the clerks in their own office know of their 
 going. Drive off first thing to the prison, if pos- 
 sible, without even giving the chance of a notice by 
 telegraph from Plyniouth to the officials of their 
 coming, and suddenly walk in and through the 
 wards and workshops without any notice to 
 Governor or anyone else, and if they do not see a 
 dififerent appearance in many places I should be 
 surprised. Much of the smartness that attracted 
 their attention on the last visit, both of warders 
 and prisoners, would be found to be wanting, and 
 they would not fail to see a laxity in many 
 things they are at present quite ignorant of. Let 
 them visit the baths when a gang is bathing, the 
 Association Rooms at meal times, and the car- 
 penters', tailors', and other artisan workshops. 
 Much would then be seen they now are ignorant of. 
 
382 Five Yeari Penal Servitude. 
 
 The mere reports of warders and prison offi- 
 cials are very little to be relied on. Eeports, like 
 accounts, can be cooked and manipulated to order. 
 Speaking from my own experience in preparing 
 the official accounts for the Blue Books, I can 
 simply say they are in many cases a mere farce. 
 A certain result is required, and figures are so 
 arranged as to produce that result. My orders 
 were given to me, and I obeyed them. There 
 the accounts are, and very lucid they look. I 
 wonder if anyone ever takes the trouble to read 
 them. I also wonder are aU Blue Book accounts 
 alike? 
 
 Thirdly. The doing this in the most efficient 
 and least costly way to the tax-paying portion of 
 the British public. 
 
 The question of expense, of course, would be 
 materially lessened if the system of short severe 
 sentences were adopted. No official pretends for 
 one moment to say that convict labour can ever 
 be made to pay for the expenses of maintaining 
 the establishments. Indeed, even among the 
 able-bodied men, I doubt whether many, if any, do 
 work that is absolutely worth the cost of their 
 keep and clothing, without taking into considera- 
 
Observations, Reflections, and Suggestions. 383 
 
 tion the expense of warders, guards, &o., to loot 
 after them. 
 
 I have already, in former pages, shown the 
 cost to the parish from which a farm labourer was 
 convicted by some of the Great Unpaid for steal- 
 ing a dozen duck eggs. One of the postmen, sen- 
 tenced to five years for taking a few shillings' 
 worth of stamps from a letter, told me his wife 
 and children had an allowance from St. Pancras 
 parish that would, in the time he had to serve, 
 amount to close on lOOZ. This certainly is not 
 an effective way of doing things at the least cost 
 to the taxpayer. 
 
 Were the prisoners kept in separate cells for 
 the whole of their time, as at Millbank and Pen- 
 tonville, they would not require so many warders 
 to look after them, and consequently not cost so 
 much; but they would havi^ no opportunities of 
 receiving and imparting lessons in villany, and 
 might leave the prison at the end of their terms 
 better men and less educated in crime. If one- 
 half the men who are in prison for first offences 
 were liberated at the expiration of the time they 
 have completed their ' separates ' at Millbank or 
 Pentonville, I feel confident they would be less 
 
384 Five Years' Penal Servitude. 
 
 likely to return to evil courses, and trouble the 
 magisterial and police authorities again, than 
 they are after graduating at Dartmoor, Chatham, 
 Portsmouth, Portland, and other of the devil's col- 
 leges, where old prison birds delight in polluting 
 the minds of those who are thrown into their 
 way. 
 
 I should like to see a Eoyal Commission ap- 
 pointed to thoroughly investigate the whole con- 
 vict system with a view to its reformation. K 
 such is ever appointed, let them go beyond mere 
 official sources for their information. Let men 
 who, like myself, have seen the ins and outs and 
 the shortcomings be encouraged and invited to 
 give evidence ' in camera,' with proper guarantees 
 and protection against their names not being 
 brought publicly forward to their detriment. Let 
 them take the evidence of prisoners now serving 
 their sentences, selecting them from all classes, 
 such evidence to be given without the presence of 
 any of the prison authorities, and I am confident 
 a mass of useful information would be obtained. 
 They would find out the sore points to be after- 
 wards farther investigated, and would be able to 
 get views of the subject taken from quite a different 
 
Observations^ Reflections, and Suggestions. 385 
 
 standpoint to the stereotyped ideas of visiting 
 magistrates, prison officials, chaplains and police. 
 
 Of course a great deal of such evidence would 
 have to be taken very much cwm grano, but out of 
 the mass there would be no difficulty in sifting 
 the chaff from the grain, and a great deal of 
 valuable information would be obtained. 
 
 If these pages are read by legislators and 
 thinking men who will seriously give attention to 
 a most painful subject, I am sure much good will 
 result. No one doubts for one moment our prison 
 convict discipline requires to be re-organised, and 
 that in its present state it is far, very far, from 
 what it should be ; and if these pages should be 
 the means of inducing the more careful study of 
 the question by those who have the means of 
 bringing about its reform I shall feel my labours 
 have not been entirely thrown away. 
 
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 THE LIVES OF PAINTERS. 
 
 By the late John Times, F.S.A. 
 With Portraits, price Gs. 
 
 THE LIVES OF WITS AND 
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 By the late John Timbs, F.S.A. 
 
 In Two Tolumes, with Portraits, 
 price 12s. 
 
 THE LIVES OF THE LATER 
 WITS AND HUMOURISTS. 
 
 By the late John Timbs, F.S.A. 
 In Two Volumes, price 12s, 
 
 DOCTORS AND PATIENTS. 
 
 By the late JoHs Times, P.S.A. 
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 THE AUTOBIO&BAPHY OF A 
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 By the Earl of DosDONALD. 
 With Portrait and Charts, price &s. 
 
 THE GREAT TONE POETS. 
 
 Beikg boibp Memoies op the G-keater 
 Musical Composers. 
 By Predbeiok Crowest. 
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THE E0ELINGTON LIBEAET. 
 
 SIOGBAFHI£S OF EMINENT 
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 THE WIT AND WISDOM OF 
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 Edited by Bekest Bhowking. 
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 SOUTH SEA BUBBLES. 
 
 By the Earl and the Doctor. 
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 THE HISTOEY OF 
 JEBVSALEU. 
 
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 BYGONE DAYS IN DEVON 
 AND COBNWALL. 
 
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 THE DEAD CITIES OF THE 
 
 ZUYDEB ZEE. 
 
 From the French of Henri Havard, by 
 Annie Wood. 
 
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 THE SUN. 
 
 Prom the French of Amed6e G-uillemin, 
 
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 With Fifty Illustrations, pr.ce 6s. 
 
 THE DAY AFTEE DEATH. 
 
 From the French of Louis Fignier. 
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 THE BENTLEY BALLADS. 
 
 Selected prom ' Bentlby's 
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 TABLE TRAITS, AND 
 SOMETHING ON THEM. 
 
 By Dr. Doran, F.S.A. 
 Price 6«. 
 
 BOOTS: 
 
 A Plea for Toleranck 
 Demy 8vo. price Gs. 
 
 ADAM AND THE ADAMITE. 
 
 By the late Dr. MoOacslakd, Q.O. 
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 THE BUILDEBS OF BABEL. 
 
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 SEEMONS IN STONES. 
 
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