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V 


H  1'  H  H/i/ 


Oxford  Univereity 

ENGLISH  FACULTY  LIBRARY 

Manor  Road.  Oxfoid  0X1  3m 

Telephone:  (01865)  271050 

foatam       Monday  to  Friday  9  30  ««,„ -, 

SatuixJay  10 O0.m  ,X  i  *"  "^  ^ P" 
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300022  iSe' 


THE 


CRIMINAL  PRISONS 


OP  LONDON. 


THE  GREAT  METROPOLIS. 


I. 
LONDON   IN   THE    OLDEN   TIME, 

One  Yolnme,  4to,  price  10«.  6d.  dotlu 
THE    WHITE   BOOK    OF    THE    CITY    OF    LOlTDONt 

COXPZLBS  A.D.  1419, 

Daring  the  Mayoralty  of  Biohard  Whittington : 

SBSCBZBIVO, 

Tbb  Social,  Folxticjll,  avd  Cbuoval  Govdrxozt  of  thb  Citt  iir  thb  Middlb  Aozs. 

LONDON  LABOUR  AND  THE  LONDON  POOR.  . 

By  HBNBY  MAYHBW. 

Three  Tolumea,  8to,  prioe  K.  2«.  Bd,,  doth, 
THE  IiONDON  8TBEET  FOLK. 


coxpbibivo. 


BTBBKV  BBOOABe. 

Btbbbt  Sbllbba. 
SrBBXT  FnnDBBe. 


Stbbb*  Pbbtobicbbs. 
Btbbbt  Abtizaks. 
Btbbbt  Labovbbbb. 


The  Extra  Yolmne,  prioe  lOt.  9d„  oloth, 
THOSE  THAT  WUiIi  E^OT  WOBK. 

coxFBxsnroj 

PboSTITVTSS.  I  BWIFDLBBB, 

Tbxbtbb.  I  Bbooabs. 

Bj  Bbtbbal  Coktbzbutobs. 

m. 

One  large  Tolnme  8to,  prioe  lOt.  9d,  doth. 

THE    PRISONS    OF   LONDON, 
Bt  hbkbt  hathbw. 

With  Kmneroaa  ninttratioiiiB  from  Fhotographf. 


1 


THE 


CRIMINAL  PRISONS 

OF  LONDON 


Ayi> 


SCENES  OF  PRISON  LIFE. 


BY 


HBNKY    MAYHBW, 

AUTHOR  or  "LONDON  LABOUR  AND  THE  LONDON  POOR." 

JOHN  BINNY, 

AUTHOR  OF  "thieves  AND  SWINDLERS,"  IN    "LONDON  LABOUR  AND  THE  LONDON  VOOn." 


FBOH  FH0T0GSAPH8. 


LONDON: 
GRIFFIN,    BOHN,    AND    COMPANy, 

STATIONEBS'  HALL  COUET. 

MDCCCLXII* 


LOKBOKs 

VLXSX   tXKSXT. 


ADYERTISEMENT. 


The    present  yolnme  completes  the  series    of  papers  on  the   lower  phases  of 
London  Life^  so  ably  commenoed  by  Mr.  Heniy  Mayhew. 

In  the  first  portion  of  '^  London  Labonr  and  the  London  Poor/'  the  respectable 
portion  of  the  world  were  for  the  first  time  made  acquainted  with  the  habits  and 
pursnits  of  many  thousands  of  their  fellow-creatoresj  who  daily  earn  an  honest 
livelihood  in  the  midst  of  destitution^  and  exhibit  a  firmness  and  heroism  in 
piirsning  'Hheir  daily  round  and  common  task''  worthy  of  the  highest  com- 
mendation. Yet  these  had  long  been  regarded  as  the  dangerous  classes^  as  men 
and  women  who  were  little  higher  than  Hottentots  in  the  scale  of  civilization ! 
The  publication  of  Mr.  MayheVs  investigationSj  illustrated  by  the  recitals  of  the 
people  themselves,  for  the  first  time  led  to  a  knowledge  of  the  poorer  world  of 
London^  of  which  the  upper  classes  knew  comparatively  nothing.  Acquaintance 
with  disease  is  half  way  towards  its  remedy,  and  the  knowledge  thus  acquired,  has 
led  to  various  ameliorations  of  the  hardships  undergone  by  these  classes,  and  to  a 
better  UBderstanding  between  the  various  ranks  of  society,  although  much  still 
remains  to  be  done. 

Li  the  second  department  of  the  series  "  Those  who  will  not  work,"  Mr. 
Mayhew  cmd  his  able  assistants  have  laid  bare  the  really  festering  sores  of  London, 
and  have  shown  which  are  in  reality  the  dangerous  classes,  the  idle,  the  profligate, 
and  the,  criminal  j  those  who  prey  upon  the  health  and  the  property  of  others,  and 
who,  or  many  of  whom,  would  not  be  tolerated  in  any  other  European  capital. 
Here,  however,  the  extreme  jealousy  with  which  the  law  guards  the  liberty  of  the 
subject  when  not  engaged  in  any  criminal  act,  so  ties  up  the  hands  of  the 
executiye,  that  vice  is  allowed  to  parade  itself  with  the  most  brazen  effrontery. 

Li  the  present  volume  the  readers  will,  also  for  the  first  time,  find  a  complete 
account  of  the  Criminal  Prisons  of  London,  compiled,  like  the  preceding  portions  of 
the  work,  from  actual  investigations,  mostiy  made  within  the  walls,  or  supplied  by 
the  officers  connected  with  them.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  out  the  great 
contrast  which  the  prisons  of  the  present  day  present  to  those  of  the  past  century 
and  the  early  part  of  the  present.  Formerly  the  only  object  in  view  was  punish- 
ment, occasionally  of  the  most  careless  leniency,  and  at  other  times  of  the  most 


iv  ADVEETISEMENT. 

atrocious  severity.  Criminals  were  allowed  to  go  on  from  crime  to  crime,  and  from 
bad  to  worse,  until  the  police  of  the  day  thought  them  sufficiently  advanced  for 
promotion  to  the  penal  colonies,  or  to  the  gallows,  which  was  ever  crying  out  for 
fresh  victims ;  prevention  was  imthought  of,  punishment  was  regarded  as  the  only 
means  of  repressing  crime.  Modem  philanthropy  has  pointed  out  the  better  and 
the  cheaper  course;  it  pleads  that  it  is  the  duty  of  the  State  to  see  that  the 
children  of  the  poor  should  be  taught  the  diflference  between  right  and  wrong,  and 
to  take  such  measures  with  regard  to  crime  that  if  its  prevention  be  impossible, 
detection  and  punishment  shall  be  almost  a  matter  of  certainty,  not  of  chance. 

Of  the  punishment  of  crime  this  volume  more  particularly  treats.  Prisons  were 
formerly  hotbeds  of  vice  :  prisoners,  yoimg  in  crime,  came  out  confirmed  miscreants. 
Old  offenders  of  the  gravest  description  and  young  misdemeanants  were  herded 
together,  and  reformation  was  a  thing  unknown.  Now  times  are  changed ;  prisons 
are  places  of  punishment ;  idleness,  which  was  formerly  the  rule,  is  now  almost 
banished,  and  consequently,  the  habits  of  order  and  industry,  which  are  forced 
upon  all  inmates,  are  so  irksome  to  the  idle,  that  prisons  are  in  reality  places  of 
punishment,  and  to  be  avoided.  Still  better,  they  are  reformatories  also ;  the 
prisoner  is  now  taught  that  honesty  is  not  only  the  best  but  the  happiest  policy, 
and  the  majority  of  persons  who  have  completed  their  term,  at  least  all  but  con- 
firmed delinquents,  leave  the  walls  of  the  prison  with  the  determination  of  not 
again  breaking  the  law. 

The  publishers  think  it  right  to  state  that,  in  consequence  of  Mr.  Mayhew's 
absence  from  England,  they  placed  the  completion  of  the  volume  in  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Binny,  who  has  supplied  all  after  page  498.  They  also  take  this  opportunity 
of  thanking  the  governors  and  the  various  prison  authorities  for  the  facilities  they 
have  rendered  and  for  much  useful  information  supplied. 


Stationsbb*  Hall  Cottbt, 
April,  1862. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


PAOB 

L0in>0N  COKBIDSIIED  AS  JL  GbEAT  WoBLD  ...  1 

A  Bau^ook  YiKW  av  London 7 

SoKB  Idea  of  the  Size  and  Population 

ov  London 11 

London  pbom  Dipfevent  Points  op  View..  18 

The  Entry  into  London  bj  Bail  20 

The  Port  of  London  21 

London  from  the  Top  of  St.  Paul's  24 


PAOB 

The  CoNTBASTfl  of  London 28 

Of  the  Riches  and  Poverty  of  London . . ,  28 

The  Charity  and  the  Grime  of  London...  28 
Of  the  London  Streets,  theib  Teaffic, 

Kames,  AND  Ghabactes  53 

Of  the   Komenchiture  of  the  London 

Streets 56 

Character  of  the  London  Streets   58 


PROFESSIONAL  LONDON   6t 

« 

LEGAL  LONDON 71 


THE  ADMINISTRATION  OP  THE  CRIMINAL  LAW 80 


The  CBnciNAX  Pbisonb  and  Prison  Popu- 
lation of  London    80 

Prisons  for  Offenders  after  Conyiction 82 

Prisons  for  Offenders  before  Conriction  ...  82 

Of  the  Prison  Popidation  of  London   82 

Of  the  Chancter  of  the  London  Criminals  84 

Toe  London  Contict  Prisons  and  the 

Convict  Population    91 


Of  Prison  Discipline 97 

Prisons  in  the  Olden  Times 97 

Of  the  Several  Kinds  of  Prison  Discipline  99 

The  Classification  of  Prisons • 99 

The  Silent  Associated  System   100 

The  Separate  System 103 

The  Mixed  System 105 

The  Mark  System 105 


THE  comricx  prisons  of  London 

« 

PxNTONTiLTJi  Prison  112 

History  and  Architectural  Details 113 

Interior  of  Pentonville  117 

A  Work-Day  at  PentonyiHe  122 

Departure  of  Convicts 125 

aeaning  the  Prison    128 

The  Prison  Breakfast     129 

The    Refractory    Wards,    and    Prison 

Punishments    135 

Exercising  and  Health  of  the  Prisoners. . .  141 

Arrind  of  Conviots 145 

Prison  Work  and  Gratuities 153 

dosing  the  Prison  for  the  Night 159 

A  Sunday  Morning  at  Pentonrille 1^2 


112 


Pentonyille  Prison  (continued) : 

Quitting  the  Chapel  167 

Of  theMoral  Effects  of  the  Discipline 168 

The Fskale  Contiot  Prison  at  Brixton...  172 
The  Histoiy,  Plan,  and  Disciphne  of  the 

Prison 174 

Interior  of  the  Brixton  Prison  177 

ADay  at  Brixton    183 

Exercising   185 

Beports,  Punishments,  and  Befractory 

Cells 187 

The  Convict  Nursery 189 

Delivery  of  the  Prison  Letters   192 

Female  Convict  Labour 194 


vm 


coirrENTS. 


THE  CONVICT  PEISONS  OF  LONDON— (co»««tf«Q : 


The  Htozs  AT  Woolwich 197 

The  Hiatory  of  the  Hulks 398 

Conyiot  Labour  and  Discipline  at  Wool- 
wich    202 

Yalue  of  Labour  at  the  Hulks  203 

Convict  Gratuities 205 

Badges,  etc 206 

A  Day  on  Board  the  "  Defence"  Hulk 208 

The  Turning  Out  of  the  Conricts 208 

Officers' Duties   218 

Muster  and  Breakfast,  Diet,  etc 214 

Debaroation  of  Prisoners  for  Work  in 

the  Arsenal 216 

The  Library  and  School  at  the  Hulks  ...  218 

The  Working  Parties  in  the  Arsenal 221 

The  Convicts' Burial  Ground 223 

The  Convicts  at  Dinner 226 

The  «  Unit^"  Hospital  Ship 228 

The  "Sulphur''  Washing  Hulk 229 

The  «  Warrior*' Hulk 229 


MiLLBANi  Peisok— Thb  Comtict DbpAt  ...  282 
Plan,  History,  and  Discipline  of  the  Prison  285 
The  Present  Use  and  Begulations  of  the 

Prison 240 

The  Interior  of  the  Prison 244 

The  Reception  Ward 244 

The  Chain-room 246 

The  Cells  at  Millbank 248 

The  School-ropm 240 

Working  in  Separate  Cells 250 

Peculiar  Wards  256 

Befractory  and  Dark  Cells 258 

Guarding  the  Prisoners,  etc 259 

Breakfast,  etc 261 

Exercising 262 

Large  Associated  Booms   263 

The  Infirmary 264 

The  General  Ward 265 

The  Prison  Garden  and  Churchyard 266 

The  I'emale  Convict  Prison  at  Millbank  ...  269 


THE  COBBECTIONAL  PEISONS  OF  LONDON 274 


TeB     MiDDLXflSX    HOITSS    OP  COBBECTION, 

COLDBATH  FULDS 277 

The  History    and    Construction    of   the 

Prison  280 

The  Discipline  of  Coldbath  Fields  Prison  284 

The  Interior  of  the  Prison    289 

The  Interior  of  the  ^Mam"  Prison  and 

Counting  the  Prisoners 290 

The  Prisoners'  own  Clothes  Stores  292 

Liberation  of  Prisoners 293 

Arrival  of  Prisoners  294 

Visit  of  Prisoners' Friends   296 

Of  "Hard  "and  "Prison"  Labour 299 

The  Tread-Mill  803 

The  Tread-Wheel  Fan   807 

Crank  Labour 807 

ShotDrill 308 

Oakum  Picking  810 

The  T^tiloiB'  and  Shoemakers'  Boom 813 

The  Printing  Office  and  Needle  Boom  ...  815 

Mat  Boom  816 

Artisan  Prisoners    817 

Education  and  Beligious  Instruction  of  the 

Prisoners 819 

Chapel 820 

The  Prison  Accommodation  822 

Cells 822 

Dormitories 826 

Of  the  Silent  System 828 

Stars 386 


Middlesex  House  of  Cobbsctiok,  Cold- 
Bath  Fields  {continued) : 

Beport  Office 386 

Of  the  Different  Sands  of  Prisons  and  Pri- 
soners, and  the  Diet  allowed  to  Each    339 

Vagrants'  Prison 839 

Misdemeanants'  Prison 840 

Fines    841 

Of  the  Prison  Kitchen  and  Diet  846 

The  MiDDUtasz  House  oe   Cosebotiok, 

Tothill  Fields 853 

Of  the  Old  "  Spitals,"  Sanctnariei,  etc.  ...  854 
The   History,    Character,  and   Discipline 

of  the  Prison  859 

Of  the  Boy  Prisoners  at  Tothill  Fields 

and  Boy  Prisoners  generally 876 

The  Interior  of  Tothill  Fields  Prison 398 

The  Boys'  Work  at  TothiU  Fields  ...  420 
The  Boy  Prisoners'  School-room  and 

Libraiy 429 

Beception  and  Discharge  of  Prisoners    ...  481 
Of  Juvenile  Offenders  in  connection  wiih  the 

increase  of  crime  in  this  Country ...  489 
The  Female  Prison  at  Tothill  Fields,  and 

Female  Prisoners  generally    453 

Tl^e  Interior  of  the  Female  Prison   468 

The  School-room,  Work-room,  etc.  ...  470 

The  Nursery   478 

The  Female  Work-room    475 

The  Female  Prifonen'  Goihes  Stores   483 


CONTENTS. 


iz 


THB  COBREOTIONAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON— (con^nKe^f)  : 


Tkb  Bjtbxkx  9oubi  of  OoBBioTiosr,  Wands- 

WOBTH 487 

Tbt  "History    md    Coii8<aruction   of    the 
Prison 489 

£Bstoi7  of  the  House  of  Gorrecfcioii 492 

G^wdtj  and  Cost  494 

Beasons  for  Building  the  Chapel  on  the 

Separate  System 496 

Form  of  Hard  Labour  Adopted   496 

Of  the  Sjstem  of  Prison  Discipline  497 

The  Interior  of  the  Prison 500 

Reception  Cells 505 

Prisoners*  Old  Clothing-room    506 

Reception  Store-room    508 

Cells 509 

Oakum  Picking  510 

MatMaking    510 

Shoe  Making  512 

Chapel 512 

Exercising  (abounds    515 

The  Pump  House   514 

MiU  House 515 

Hand  Labour  Machines 515 

School 516 

The  Bakery 517 

TheKitchen    518 

Ponishment  Cells 518 

Store-rooms     519 

The  Female  Prison,  Wandsworth 522 

The  Reception  Ward 523 

CbntralHall    524 

Matron's  Clerk    525 

TheLaundzy  526 

The  Teacher 627 

Punishment  Cells    528 

The  Storekeeper 528 

Visiting  the  Cells    530 

Return  of  the  Terms  of  Imprisonment  at 
Wandsworth   531 


The  City  Houbb  of  Cobbbctiok,  Holloway  533 
The    History    and   Construction   of   the 

Prison ,..,  535 

The  Interior  of  Holloway  Prison ,  539 

The  Outer  Gate  and  Courtyard 639 

OflSse,    Cells,    etc.,   of    the    Reception 

Ward    641 

Discharge  of  Prisoners  543 

Mode  of  Receiving  Prisoners 546 

Stores  547 

Newly  Arrived  Prisoners   649 

Main  Passage  551 

CentralHall 663 

Cells 564 

Mat  Rooms 556 

Schools  of  the  Male  Prison    569 

State  of  Education 562 

Tailors*  and  Shoemakers*  Room   562 

Infirmary 666 

Chapel 567 

Hearing  Reports 669 

The  Treadwheel 570 

Exercising  Ghrounds    571 

TheKitchen    572 

The  Engineers' Department  574 

Visiting  the  Prisoners  in  their  Cells 675 

The  Juvenile  Wing  of  the  Prison 578 

Ordinary  Distribution  of  a  Prisoner's 

Time 680 

The  Female  House  of  Correction,  Holloway  680 

Reception  Ward 680 

Laundry  681 

The  School  682 

The  Outer  Watchman   683 

Employment  of  Prisoners 583 

List  of  the  Dietaiy  for  Prisoners 584 

Average  Expenses  of  Holloway  Prison 686 

Return  showing  the  Time  and  Value  of 
Prisoners' Labour  587 


THE  DETENTIONAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON  586 


NxwoatsJail  686 

Interior  of  Newgate  JaU    593 

The  Bread  Room 594 

Murderers' Busts    596 

TheKitchen 597 

Corridor  of  Male  Prison 697 

Cells 598 

Visiting  ofPrisoners  by  their  Friends 600 

The  Murderers' Cells 601 

Burying  Ground  of  the  Murderers  601 


Newoatb  Jail  {continued): 

Exercising  Grounds 602 

Old  Associated  Rooms  603 

The  Chapel 604 

The  Female  Prison 605 

Reception  Cells,  Punishment  Cells,  &c.    605 

The  Laundry  606 

The  Boiler  Room   607 

The  Sessions  House    607 

General  Statistics  of  Newgate  Jail    610 


CONTENTS. 


THE  CORRECTIONAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON— (cwf«ji««0  : 


The  House  of  Deteetiok,  Clebkekwell  611 

Reception  Ward 611 

Central  Hall    616 

The  Chapel  616 

The  Kitchen    617 

Visiting  the  Cells   618 

Exercising  Grounds   620 

The  Female  Prison 621 

Reception  Ward 621 

The  Laundry  621 

The  Corridor,  etc 621 

General  Statistics  of  Clerkenwell  Prison  ...  622 

HoBSEMOHaEB  Lake  Jail    623 

Reception  Ward 624 


HoBSBMOKaEE  Laeb  Jail — (eoiUintted)  t 

The  Kitchen,  etc 626 

The  Engineer v 626 

The  Chapel 627 

Exercising  Ghronnds  627 

Visiting  the  Cells    628 

The  Infirmary 630 

The  Female  Prison 630 

Reception  Ward , 680 

The  Laundry 630 

The  Teacher    631 

Visiting  the  Cells    631 

General   Statistics  of  Horsemonger  Lane 

Jail 633 


*ii*  All  after  page  498  is  written  hy  Mr,  John  Binny, 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Fboktibpiboe,  London  Traffio  as  aeon  from  the  Top  of  St.  Paurs. 


Ictnoos  AS  A  Gbbat  Wobld  :  ^ 
The  Port  of  London. 
Kap  of  the  Population  of  London. 

Lboal  Lohdon  :— 

M^  of  the  Luis  of  Court. 

Ki^  of  the  Metropolitan  Prisons. 

Opening  of  the  Courts,  Westminster. 

CRnOKAL  LOITDON: — 

Ticket  of  Leare  Men. 
Male  and  Pemale  Conyicts. 

Fbhtostillb  Pbibok: — 
Bird's-eye  View. 
Corridor. 

Portcullis  Gateway. 
Conricts  Exercising. 
Sepazate  Cell. 

The  Chapel  during  Divine  Service. 
Chief  Warder. 
Instrument  for  Signalling  the  Prisoners. 

Tee  Fsxaui  Coktict  Pusoir  at  Bbixton  :-~ 
Bird's-eye  View. 
Separate  Cell  in  the  old  Part. 
Separate  Cell  in  the  new  Part. 
Principal  Matron. 
Wash  House. 
Ironing  Boom. 
TheChapeL 
The  Convict  Kurseiy. 
Female  Convicts  Exercising. 
"FemaXdB  at  Work  during  Silent  Hour. 

Thb  Huueb  at  Woolwich  :— 

The  ••Defence"  Hulk  and  the  "  Unit^" Hos- 

pital  Ship. 
Oiapel  on  Board  the  "  Defence." 
A  Ward  on  Board  the  "  Defence." 
Sectional  View  of  the  <*  Defence." 
Plans  of  the  Decks  of  the  <*  Defence." 


Thb  Hulkb  at  Woolwich — (continued) : 
Convicts  forming  a  Mortar  Battery. 
Convicts  Scraping  Shot. 
The  Escape  Signal. 
The  Convicts'  Burial  Ground. 
The  Convict's  Flower. 
Convicts  returning  to  the  Hulks. 
The  "Warrior^'  Hulk  with  the  "Sulphiur" 

Washing  Ship. 
The  Deck  of  the  «  Unite"  Hospital  Ship. 

MlIiLBA17E  PbISON: — 

General  View. 

Bird's-eye  View. 

General  Plan. 

The  Workshop  under  the  Silent  System. 

The  Chain  Boom. 

Prisoner  at  Work  in  Separate  CelL 

Prisoner  in  Keiractory  CelL 

Convicts  Working  in  the  Garden  Ground. 

Female  Convict  in  Canvas  Dress. 

Burial  Ground. 

HonSB  OP  COBBXCTIOK,  COLDBATH  FlELDS  : — 

Ghiteway. 

Bird's-eye  View. 

Ground  Plan. 

Fumigating  Prisoniers'  Clothing. 

Friends  Visiting  Prisoners. 

Large  Oakum  Boom  under  the  Silent  System. 

Prisoners  Working  at  the  Tread  Wheel, 

The  Tread  Wheel  Fan. 

The  Tailors*  and  Shoemakers'  Boom, 

Mat  Boom. 

Dormitory. 

Liberation  of  Prisoners. 

HOUBB  OB  COBBBOTION,  TOTHILL  FiBLDS  :— 

General  View. 

Bird's-eye  View. 

Ground  Plan. 

Workshop  on  the  Silent  System. 


zu 


LIST  OF  ILLIJSTEATIONS. 


HOTTflB     OF     GOBBBOTION,     TOTHZCL    FlBLDS— 
{continued[) : 
QirU'  School  Boom. 
Boys  ExerciBing. 

Female  PriBonen'  own  Olothes  Store. 
Bojb'  School  Boom. 
Court  Yard  and  Goyemor'B  House. 
SerFing  Dinner  in  the  Bojb'  Prison. 
Mothers  with  their  Children  Exercising. 

SUSBSY  HOU8S  OT  COBBBOTIOV,  WAin)eWOBTH  :-* 

General  View. 

Bird's-eye  View. 

Ground  Plan. 

Interiori  with  the  Prisoners   Turning  out 

after  Dinner. 
Veiled  Female  Prisoner. 
Cell,  with  Prisoner  at  Crank  Labour. 
Pump  Boom. 

Adult  School  in  the  Chapel. 
Ventilating  haft. 
Prisoner's  Mattrass. 
Cell  Indicator. 
Whip,  or  Bod. 
Whipping  Post. 

City  House  of  Cobsxctiok,  Hollowat  : — 
Bird>-eve  View. 
General  View. 
Ground  Plan. 
Outer  Gate. 


Thb  City  Hottsb  of  Oobbbotiok,  Holloway— 

(eonUnued) : 
Tread  Wheel  and  Oakum  Shed. 
Inner  Ghite. 

Interior  of  the  Kitchen. 
Heating  Apparatus. 
Lifting  Apparatus  for  Seiring  Dinner. 
Separate  Washing  Cell 


Nbwgatb  Jail: — 
General  View. 
Chamberlain's  Gate. 
Old  I^ewgate. 

Ghround  Plan  before  the  Beoent  Alterations. 
Present  Ground  Plan. 
Gateway,  and  Prisoners'  Friends. 
Court,  with  Trial  Going  on. 
Prisoners'  Consulting  Boom. 
Condemned  Cell. 

House  of  Dbtentiok,  ClsbkeitweIiL  : — 
Bird's-eye  View. 
General  View. 
Cbound  Plan. 

Interior,  Prisoners'  Friends  Visiting. 
Prison  Van  Taking  up  Prisoners. 

HOBSEMONGEB  LaKE  JaIL  : — 

G^eral  View. 
Ground  Plan. 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


INTRODUCTION. 


LONDON  CONBIDEBED  AS  A  QBEAT  WOSLD. 

"  Lmdre*  n'ett  plia  tm»  vilh:  e'ett  unt  frovmet  eowerie  it  motion*,"  t&ya  H.  Horace  Say, 
the  celebrated  Prencli  economiat. 

The  remark,  however,  like  moat  French  moU,  is  more  eparkling  than  lucid;  for,  if 
the  term  "  province"  be  used — and  bo  it  often  is  by  the  inconsiderate — as  if  it  were  synony- 
mons  with  the  Anglo-Saxon  "  shire,"  then  assuredly  there  Is  no  county  in  England  nor 
"  difmitmenf'  in  France,  which,  in  the  extent  of  its  population,  is  comparable  to  the  Sritisli 
lletropoliB.  Not  only  does  London  contain  nearly  twice  as  many  souls  as  the  most  extendve 
dinnon  of  the  Frencli  Empire,  but  it  houses  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  a  million  more  indi- 
vidoala  than  any  one  county  in  Great  Brit^.* 

How  idle,  tlierefoTe,  to  speak  of  London  as  a  mere  province,  when  it  comprises  within 
its  boundaries  a  greater  number  of  people  than  many  a  kingdom !  the  population  of  the 
Sritish  Uetropolis  exceeding — by  some  five  hundred  thousand  persona — that  of  the  whole  of 
Hanover,  or  Baxony,  or  'Wnrtembui^;  whilst  the  abstract  portion  of  its  people  congregated 
on  the  Uiddlesex  side  of  the  Thames  only,  out-numbers  the  entire  body  of  individuab 
included  within  the  Grand  Buchy  of  Saden.f 

*  The  population  of  the  dtfartimmt  da  Kord  it,  in  round  nnmbcn,  1,130,000 ;  and  tlitt  o(  ths  Seins 
1,Ses,000.    The  population  of  Lancuter,  on  the  other  buid,  ia  2,031,236. 

t  The  populitios  of  tha  abore-mentianed  oooDttiM  ii,  according  to  ths  retDmi  of  18S0,  u  foilovi : — 
Suonj,  1,836,433  ;  Haaover,  1,7BS,8S6 ;  WnrtemburK,  1,713,827 ;  Bodsn,  1,349,030.— JCOrf&fA'*  Ota- 
frafHial  Dieiienitry. 


4  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Nay,  more:  towards  the  close  of  the  J 4th  centoiy,  there  were  not  nearly  so  many  men, 
women,  and  children  scattered  throughout  dS  England  as  there  are  now  crowded  within  the 
Capital  alone.* 

Further :  assuming  the  population  of  the  entire  world,  according  to  the  calculations  of 
Balbi  (as  given  in  the  Balance  Politique  du  Globe),  to  be  1075  millions,  that  of  the  Great 
Metropolis  constitutes  no  less  than  1 -450th  part  of  the  whole ;  so  that,  in  every  thousand  of 
the  aggregate  composing  the  immense  human  family,  two  at  least  are  Londoners. 

In  short,  London  may  be  safely  asserted  to  be  the  most  densely-populated  city  in  all  the 
world— ^containing  one-fourth  more  people  than  Fekin,  and  two-thirds  more  than  Paris ; 
more  than  twice  as  many  as  Constantinople ;  four  times  as  many  as  St.  Petersburg ;  five 
times  as  many  as  Vienna,  or  New  York,  or  Madrid;  nearly  seven  times  as  many  as  Berlin ; 
eight  times  as  many  as  Amsterdam ;  nine  times  as  many  as  Rome ;  fifi;een  times  as  many 
as  Copenhagen;  and  seventeen  times  as  many  as  Stockholm. f 

Surely  then  London,  being,  as  we  have  shown,  more  numerously  peopled  than  any  single 
province — and,  indeed,  than  many  an  entire  State — may  be  regarded  as  a  distinct  Wobid  ; 
and,  in  accordance  with  this  view,  Addison  has  spoken  of  the  British  Metropolis  as  composed 
of  different  races  like  a  world,  instead  of  being  made  up  of  one  cognate  family  like  a  town. 

'^  When  I  consider  this  great  city,"  he  says,  j:  ''  in  its  several  quarters  or  divisions,  I  look 
upon  it  as  an  aggregate  of  various  nations,  distinguished  from  each  other  by  their  respective 
customs,  manners,  and  interests.  The  courts  of  two  countries  do  not  so  much  differ  from 
one  another  as  the  Court  and  City  of  London  in  their  peculiar  ways  of  life  and  conversation. 
In  short,  the  inhabitants  of  St.  James's,  notwithstanding  they  live  under  the  same  laws  and 
speak  the  same  language,  are  a  distinct  people  from  those  of  Sheapside,  by  several  climates 
and  degrees,  in  their  ways  of  thinking  and  conversing  together." 

Viewing  the  Ghreat  Metropolis^  therefore,  as  an  absolute  world,  Belgravia  and  Bethnal  Green 
become  the  opposite  poles  of  the  London  sphere — ^the  frigid  zones,  as  it  were,  of  the  Capital ; 
the  one  icy  cold  from  its  exceeding  fashion,  form,  and  ceremony ;  and  the  other  wrapt  in  a 
perpetual  winter  of  withering  poverty.  Of  such  a  world,  Temple  Bar  is  the  immistakable 
equator,  dividing  the  City  hemisphere  from  that  of  the  West  End,  and  with  a  Hne  of  Banks, 
representative  of  the  Gold  Coast,  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood.  What  Greenwich,  too,  is 
to  the  merchant  seamen  of  England,  Charing  Cross  is  to  the  London  cabmen — ^the  zero  from 
which  all  the  longitudes  of  the  Metropolitan  world  are  measured. 

Then  has  not  the  so-called  World  of  London  its  vast  continents,  like  the  veritable  world 
of  which  it  forms  a  part?  What  else  are  the  enormous  trans-Thamesian  territories  of  South- 
wark  and  Lambeth  ?  Moreover,  the  localities  of  St.  Bonetfink,  and  St.  Benetsherehog,  or 
even  Bevis  Marks,  in  the  heart  of  the  City,  are  as  much  terra  incognita,  to  the  great  body  of 
Londoners  themselves,  as  is  Lake  Tchad  in  the  centre  of  Africa  to  all  but  the  Landers  or  Dr. 
Barths  of  our  race. 

Again,  as  regards  the  metropolitan  people,  the  polite  Parisian  is  not  more  widely 
different  from  the  barbarous  Botecudo,  than  is  the  lack-a-daisical  dandy  at  Almack's  from 
the  Billingsgate  "rough."  Ethnologists  have  reduced  the  several  varieties  of  mankind 
into  five  distinct  types ;  but  surely  the  judges  who  preside  at  the  courts  in  Westminster 
are  as  morally  distinct  from  the  Jew  ''fences"  of  Petticoat  Lane  as  the  Caucasian  frt>m  the 
Malayan  race.    Is  not  the  ''  pet  parson,"  too,  of  some  West  End  Puseyite  Chapel  as  ethically 

*  The  population  of  England  in  the  year  1377  was  2,092,978. 

t  The  figures  from  which  the  above  deductions  ore  made  are  as  follows : — ^Pekin  {reputed  population\ 
2,000,000 ;  Paris,  1,650,000 ;  Constantinople,  950,000 ;  St.  Potersborg,  600,000 ;  Vienna,  500,000  ;  Mew 
York,  500,000;  Madrid,  450,000;  Berlin,  880,000;  Amsterdam,  800,000;  Home,  275,000 ;  Copenhagen, 
160,000 ;  Stookhohn,  I60,000.-^ffajfdyii*»  Dictionary  of  Dates.    Sixth  Edition, 

t  Spectator,  No.  340. 


LONDON  CJONSIDEEED  AS  A  GREAT  WORLD.  5 

and  plijaicaUy  different  from  the  London  prize-fighter,  and  he  again  ^m  the  City  Alderman, 
as  is  the  Mongol  from  the  Negro,  or  the  Negro  from  the  Red  Lidian. 

In  the  World  of  London,  indeed,  we  find  almost  every  geographic  species  of  the  human 
fiimily.  If  Arabia  has  its  nomadic  tribes,  the  British  Metropolis  has  its  vagrant  hordes  as 
veil.  If  the  Carib  Islands  have  their  savages,  the  English  Capital  has  types  almost  as 
bmtal  and  uncivilized  as  they.    If  India  has  its  Thugs,  London  has  its  garotte  men. 

Nor  are  the  religious  creeds  of  the  entire  globe  more  multiform  than  those  of  the  Great 
HetropoliB.  We  smile  with  pity  at  the  tribes  of  the  Bight  of  Benim,  who  have  a  lizard  for 
their  particular  divinity ;  and  throw  up  our  hands  and  brows  in  astonishment  on  learning  that 
the  BiflsagOB  offer  up  their  prayers  to  a  bam-door  cock.  But  have  we  not  among  us,  in  this 
''most  enlightened  Metropolis,"  and  in  these  most  "  enlightened  times,"  people  who  devoutly 
believe  that  Mrs.  Joanna  Southcott  was  designed  to  have  been  the  mother  of  the  Messiah  ? 
others  who  are  morally  convinced  that  Joe  Smith  was  inspired  by  the  Almighty  to  write 
the  Book  of  Mormon — an  unsuccessM  novel  that  is  regarded  as  a  second  gospel  by  thousands? 
others  again  who  find  a  special  revelation  from  the  Most  High  in  the  babbling  of  nonsense 
by  demented  women — the  uttering  of  "imknown  tongues,"  as  it  is  termed  ?  and  others  still 
whose  steadfiaflt  faith  it  is,  that  the  special  means  of  communing  with  the  spirits  of  the  other 
world  are  alphabets  and  secret  tappings  under  the  table ! 

Further:  the  philological  differences  of  the  several  races  scattered  over  the  globe  are 
hardly  more  manifold  than  are  the  distinct  modes  of  speech  peculiar  to  the  various  classes  of 
Metropolitan  society.  True,  the  characteristic  dialect  of  Bow-bells  has  almost  become 
obsolete ;  and  aldermen,  now-a-days,  rarely  transpose  the  v's  and  w*s,  or  ''  exasperate  " 
ibe  h*8,  and -no  longer  speak  of  some  humble  residence  as  ''  an  'ouse,  an  'ut;  or  on  'ovel," 
nor  style  it,  with  like  ortho^y,  a  ''Hightalian  wilier,"  or  a  '^  French  cottage  Aomy  (omcftf)." 
But  though  this  form  has  passed  away,  there  are  many  other  modes  of  speech  still  peculiar 
to  the  Metropolitan  people. 

Your  London  exquisite,  for  instance,  talks  of  taking — ^aw— his  afternoon's  tride — aw — in 
WoUon  Wo— aw — aw— or  of  going  to  the  Opetra — ^aw— or  else  of  running  down^— aw — to 
the  WaceB — aw — aw. 

The  affected  Metropolitan  Miss,  on  the  other  hand,  loves  the  ble-ue  ske-i,  and  her  bootio 
little  do^e  and  birdie,  and  delights  in  being  key-ind  to  the  poor,  and  thioks  Miss  So-and' 
so  looked  ''  sweetly  pretty"  at  church  in  her  new  bonnet. 

Then  the  fast  young  gentleman  positively  must  speak  to  his  governor,  and  get  the  old 
brick  to  fork  out  some  more  tin,  for  positively  he  can  hardly  afford  himself  a  weed  of  an 
evenicg — ^besides  he  wants. a  more  nobby  crib,  as  the  one  he  hongs  out  in  now  is  only  fit 
for  some  pleb  or  cad.    It  really  isn't  the  Stilton. 

Moreover,  there  is  the  *'  Cadgers'  (beggars')  cant,"  as  it  is  called — a  style  of  language 
which  is  distinct  from  the  slang  of  the  thieves,  being  arranged  on  the  principle  of  using 
words  that  are  similar  in  sound  to  the  ordinary  expressions  for  the  same  idea.  ''  S'pose 
now,  your  honour,"  said  a  '^  shallow  cove,"  who  was  gi^dng  us  a  lesson  in  the  St.  Giles' 
classics^  **  I  wanted  to  ask  a  codger^  to  come  and  have  a  gJass^  of  ruw^  with  me,  and  smoke 
z,pip^  ofhaeeer*  over  a  game  of  eards^  with  some  hhkes^  at  homf — I  should  say,  '  Sphdger^^ 
will  you  have  a  Jack-surjpoM^  of  finger-and-^Attmi,'  and  blow  your  yard  of  tr^e^  of  nosey-me- 
huiidser^^  while  we  have  a  touch  of  the  hroads^  with  some  other  heaps  of  cohe^  at  my  drunf'^  "* 

Again,  we  have  the  ''  Coster-slang,"  or  the  language  used  by  the  costermongers,  and 
which  consists  merely  in  pronouncing  each  word  as  if  it  were  spelt  backwards : — "  I  saj-. 
Curly,  will  you  60  21,  tap  of  reeh  (pot  of  beer)  ?"  one  costermonger  may  say  to  the  other. 
"  It's  am  iaofy  Whelkey,  an  doag  (no  good,  no  good),"  the  second  may  reply.  "  I've  had  a 
r^lar  trasmo    (bad  sort)  to-day.     I've  been  doing  b y  d<A  (bad)  with  my  tal  (lot, 

*  It  iriU  bo  readily  observed,  by  means  of  the  numbers,  that  the  above  cant  words  are  mere  nonsensical 
terms,  rhyming  with  tiie  vernacular  ones  to  which  the  same  figure  is  annexed* 


6  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LOIIDON. 

or  stock) — ^haVt  made  a  yennep  (penny),  s'elp  mo."  "  Wlxy,  I've  cleared  aflatek-enorc  (half-a- 
ciown)  a'ready/'  Master  Whelkey  wOl  answer,  perhaps.  ''  Bat  kool  the  esilop  (look  at  the 
police) ;  kool  him  (look  at  him)  Curly !  Nbmmus  /  (be  ofL)  I'm  going  to  do  the  tighbner 
(have  my  dinner)." 

Lastly,  comes  the  veritable  slang,  or  Englisk  *'  Argots  ^  i.e.,  the  secret  langoage  used  by 
the  London  thieves.  This  is  made  up,  in  a  great  degree,  of  the  medissval  Latin,  in  which 
the  Church  service  was  formerly  chanted,  and  which  indeed  gave  rise  to  the  term  cant 
(from  the  Latin  cantare),  it  having  been  the  custom  of  the  ancient  beggars  to  *^  intone"  their 
prayers  when  asking  for  alms.*  ''Can  you  roker  £omany(can  you  speak  cant)?"  one 
individual  "  on  the  cross"  will  say  to  another,  who  is  not  exactly  ''  on  the  square;"  and  if 
the  reply  be  in  the  affirmative,  he  will  probably  add — "  What  is  your  monekeer  (name)  ? — 
Where  do  you  stall  to  in  the  huey  (where  do  you  lodge  in  the  town)  ?"  "  Oh,  I  drop  the 
main  toper  (get  out  of  the  high-road),"  would  doubtless  be  the  answer,  "  and  slink  into  the 
ken  (lodging-house)  in  the  back  drum  (street)."  **  Will  you  have  a  shant  o'  gatter  (pot  of 
beer)  after  all  this  dowry  of  parny  (lot  of  rain)  ?  I've  got  a  teviss  (shilling)  left  in  my  clye 
(pocket)."   • 

To  speak  of  the  *'  World  of  London,"  then,  is  hardly  to  adopt  a  metaphor,  since  the 
metropolitan  people  differ  from  one  another — as  much  as  if  they  belonged  to  different  races — 
not  only  in  their  manners  and  customs,  as  well  as  religion,  but  in  their  forms  of  speech ; 
for,  if  we  study  the  peculiar  dialect  of  each  class,  we  shall  find  that  there  is  some  species  of 
cant  or  other  appertaining  to  every  distinct  circle  of  society ;  and  that  there  is  a  slang  of 
the  Drawing-room,  of  Exeter  Hall,  of  the  Inns  of  Court,  the  Mess-table,  the  Editor's-room, 
the  Artist's  Studio,  the  Hospital,  the  Club-house,  the  Stable,  the  Workshop,  the  Kitchen, 
ay,  and  even  the  Houses  of  Parliament — as  distinctly  as  there  is  the  slang  of  Billingsgate  and 
the  ''  padding  ken." 

But  London  is  not  only  a  World :  it  is  a  Great  World  as  well. 

We  have  been  so  long  accustomed  to  think  of  worlds  as  immense  masses,  measuring  some 
thousands  of  miles  in  diameter,  that  it  seems  almost  like  hyperbole  to  class  a  mere  patch  of 
the  earth,  like  the  British  Metropolis,  among  the  mundane  bodies.  The  discoveries  of  the 
present  century,  however,  have  revealed  to  us  an  order  of  celestial  worlds,  many  of  which 
are  hardly  as  big  as  German  kingdoms. 

*  The  word  *' patter,"  which  is  the  slang  for  speech,  is  borrowed  merely  from  the  "paUr-nosters"  that  the 
old-established  mendicants  delighted  to  mumble.  So,  too,  the  term  *'  fake"  (to  do  anything)  is  merely 
the  lAtiufacere;  and  a  "fakement"  (anything  done  or  written,  as  a  beggar's  petition),  the  classic /a»- 
tnenium.  But  a  large  number  of  foreign  words  have  since  been  introduced  into  this  species  of  cant,  for  as 
socresy  is  the  main  object  of  all  cantoloquy,  every  outlandish  term  is  incorporated  with  the  "  lingo,"  as  soon 
as  it  can  be  picked  up  from  any  of  the  continental  vagrants  frequenting  the  *' padding  kens"  (low  lodging- 
houses)  throughout  the  country.  Thus  the  term  "carser,"  for  a  gentleman's  house  (Italian  eaaa),  has  been 
borrowed  from  the  organ  hoys ;  and  "  ogle"  (Dutch,  Oogelyny  a  little  eye),  from  the  Hollanders  on  board 
the  Billingsgate  eel-boats.  "Pogle,"  for  a  handkerchief,  a  "bird's  eye  wipe"  (German,  vogel^  a  bird),  has 
been  taken,  on  the  other  hand,  from  the  German  vagrants,  such  as  the  bird-cage  men,  &c. ;  "  showfuU," 
base  money,  which  is  likewise  the  Teutonic  shofiU  (bad  stuff— trash),  has  had  the  same  origin ;  and  "bone,'' 
which  is  the  slang  for  good,  and  evidently  the  French  hon^  has  been  got,  probably,  from  the  old  dancing- 
dog  men.  The  gipsy  language  has  also  lent  a  few  words  to  the  stock  of  slang,  whilst  the  British,  and 
even  the  Anglo- Saxon  speech  of  our  forefathers  have  many  a  phrase  preserred  in  it  (the  vulgar  being,  as 
Latham  says,  the  real  consenrators  of  the  Saxon  tongue).  Por  instance,  the  slang  term  "gammy"  (bad) 
comes  from  the  Welsh  gam^  crooked,  queer ;  and  the  cant  expression,  "  it  isn't  the  cheese"  is  pure  old  Engllih, 
signifying,  literally,  it  is  not  what  I  should  choose ;  for  Chaucer,  in  the  Canterbury  Taies^  has  the  line— 

"  To  cheeee  whether  she  wold  him  marry  or  no." 

Moreover,  fanciful  metaphors  contribute  largely  to  the  formation  of  slang.  It  is  upon  this  principle  that 
the  mouth  has  come  to  be  styled  the  " tater-trap ;"  the  tooth,  "dominoes;"  the  nose,  the  "paste-horn;" 
the  blood  "claret;"  shoes,  "crab-shells;"  umbrellas,  "mushrooms"  (or,  briefly,  "mush")  |  prisons,  "stono 
Jugs,"  and  so  on. 


A  BALLOON  VIEW  OF  LONDON.  7 

These  *' asteroids/'  or  '^planetoids/'  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  are  supposed  by 
astronomers  to  be  fragments  of  a  great  planet — mere  star-chips^  or  splinters  of  some  shattered 
larger  sphere — that  formerly  occupied  the  ethereal  gap  between  Mars  and  Jupiter.*  Even 
80,  then,  may  London  itself  be  considered  as  a  kind  of  t&rroid — a  distinct  chip  of  the 
greater  world,  the  Earth. 

The  discs  of  the  minor  celestial  spheres,  Humboldt  tells  us  in  his  Oo&mos,  ''have  a 
real  surface,  measuring  not  much  more  than  half  that  of  France,  Madagascar,  or  Borneo." 
Indeed,  Mr.  Hind  says,  that  *'  the  largest  of  the  twenty-fiye  small  planets  probably  docs  not 
exceed  450  miles  in  diameter  ;"f  so  that  such  a  planetary  world  is  not  so  long — ^by  upwards 
of  a  hundred  miles — as  even  our  own  little  inland. 

Now,  as  this  is  the  measure  of  the  largest  of  the  minor  planetary  spheres,  surely  we  can 
oanceire  that  some  of  those  bodies  may  be  barely  bigger  than  ihe  Metropolis  itself,  seeing 
that  the  English  Capital  corers  an  area  of  no  less  than  120  odd  square  mUes  in  extent. 

If  then,  by  some  volcanic  eonrulsion — ^some  subterranean  quake  and  explosion — ^the  earth 
were  suddenly  to  burst,  like  a  mundane  bomb,  and,  being  shattered  into  a  score  or  two  of  ter- 
roid  fragments,  the  great  Metropolis  were  to  be  severed  from  the  rest  of  the  globe,  London  is 
quite  large  enough  to  do  duty  as  a  separate  world,  and  to  fall  to  revolving  by  itself  about  the 
sun — ^with  Haa^pstead  and  Sydenham  for  its  north  and  south  poles,  doomed  alike  to  a  six 
months'  winter — ^with  the  whole  Hne  of  Oxford  Street,  Holbom,  and  Cheapside,  scorching 
under  tlie  everlasting  summer  of  what  would  then  be  the  metropolitan  torrid  zone,  and 
whikt  it  was  day  at  Kensington,  night  reigning  at  Mile  End. 

What  a  wondrous  World,  too,  would  this  same  abstract  London  be !  A  World  with  scarcely 
an  acre  of  green  fields  in  all  its  120  square  miles  of  area — a  World  unable  to  grow  hardly  a 
sack  of  com,  or  to  graze  a  £ock  of  sheep  for  itself— a  W<»rld  choke-full  of  houses,  and  reticulated 
with  streets,  as  thick  as  the  veins  on  a  vine-leaf — and  a  World  with  two  millions  and  a  half 
of  people  crowded  within  it  almost  as  dose  as  negroes  in  the  hold  of  a  slave  ship ! 

CuL  Geres,  or  Pallas,  or  Juno,  or  Astrea,  or  Iris,  or  indeed  any  other  of  the  twenty-five 
minor  planets,, be  in  any  way  comparable  to  it  ? 


§2. 
A  BALLOON  YIEW  OP  LONDON. 

Thxbi  is  an  innate  desire  in  all  men  to  view  the  earth  and  its  cities  and  plains  from 
''  exceeding  high  places,"  since  even  the  least  imaginative  can  fed  the  pleasure  of  beholding 
some  broad  landscape  spread  out  like  a  bright-coloured  carpet  at  their  feet,  and  of  looking 
down  upon  the  world,  as  though  they  scanned  it  with  an  eagle's  eye.  For  it  is  an  exquisite 
treat  to  all  minds  to  find  that  they  have  the  x>ower,  by  their  mere  vision,  of  extending  their 
consciousness  to  scenes  and  objects  that  are  miles  away ;  and  as  the  intellect  experiences  a 
special  delight  in  being  able  to  comprehend  all  the  minute  particulars  of  a  subject  under  one 
associate  whole,  and  to  perceive  ihe  previous  confusion  of  the  diverse  details  assume  the  form 
and  order  of  a  perspicuous  unity ;  so  does  the  eye  love  to  see  the  country,  or  the  town,  which 
it  usually  knows  only  as  a  series  of  disjointed  parts — as  abstract  fields,  hills,  rivers,  parks, 
streets,  gardens,  or  churches — ^become  all  combined,  like  the  coloured  fragments  of  the 
kalddoscopc,  into  one  harmonious  and  varied  scene. 

With  great  cities',  however,  the  desire  to  percdve  the  dense  multitude  of  housed  at  one  single 

*  Mr.  Daoiel  Kirkwood,  of  FoUyille  Academy,  has  ventured  theoretically  to  restore  the  fractured  primi« 
tire  planet,  by  calculations  of  the  remaining  fragments;  and  he  finds  that  it  must  have  had  a  diameter  of  about 
half  that  of  the  earth,  and  a  day  of  more  than  twice  the  length  of  our  owD.^JHeporitofihe  British  Association 

t  Iliwtrated  Loneton  Astronomy,  page  60. 


8  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

glanoe,  and  instead  of  by  some  thousand  different  views,  to  observe  the  intricate  net-work  of 
the  many  thoroughfares  brought  into  the  compass  of  one  large  web  as  it  were ;  the  various 
districts,  too,  with  iheir  fisustories,  their  markets,  their  docks,  or  their  mansions,  all  dove- 
tailed, one  into  the  other,  as  if  they  were  the  pieces  of  some  puzzle-map — is  a  feeling  strong 
upon  every  one — the  wisest  as  well  as  the  most  Mvolous — ^upon  all,  indeed,  from  the  philoso- 
pher down  to  the  idler  about  town. 

We  had  seen  the  Qreat  Metropolis  under  almost  every  aspect.  We  had  dived  into  the 
holes  and  comers  hidden  from  the  honest  and  well-to-do  portion  of  the  London  community. 
We  had  visited  Jacob's  Island  (the  plague-spot  of  the  British  Capital)  in  the  height  of 
the  cholera,  when  to  inhale  the  very  air  of  the  place  was  to  imbibe  the  breath  of  death. 
We  had  sought  out  the  haunts  of  beggars  and  thieves,  and  passed  hours  communing 
with  them  as  to  their  histories,  habits,  thoughts,  and  impulses.  We  had  examined  the 
World  of  London  below  the  moral  surface,  as  it  were ;  and  we  had  a  craving,  like  the  rest 
of  mankind,  to  contemplate  it  from  above ;  so,  being  offered  a  seat  in  the  car  of  the  Royal 
Nassau  BalLoon,  we  determined  upon  accompanying  Mr.  Green  into  the  clouds  on  his  five 
hundredth  ascent. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  (a  fine  autumn  one)  when  the  gun  was  fired  that  was  the 
signal  for  the  great  gas-bag  to  be  loosened  from  the  ropes  that  held  it  dovm  to  the  soil;  and, 
immediately  the  buoyant  machine  bounded,  like  a  big  ball,  into  the  air.  Or,  rather  let 
us  say,  the  earth  seemed  to  etnk  suddenly  down,  as  if  the  spot  of  ground  to  which  it  had  been 
previously  fastened  had  been  constructed  upon  the  same  principle  as  the  Adelphi  stage, 
and  admitted  of  being  lowered  at  a  moment's  notice^  Indeed,  no  sooner  did  the  report  of 
the  gun  clatter  in  the  air,  than  the  people,  who  had  before  been  grouped  about  ihe  car, 
appeared  to  Ml  from  a  level  with  the  eye ;  and,  instantaneously,  there  was  seen  a  multitude 
of  flat,  upturned  faces  in  the  gardens  below,  with  a  dense  ehevausp  defrise  of  arms  extended 
above  them,  and  some  hundreds  of  outstretched  hands  fluttering  fSeurewell  to  us. 

The  moment  after  this,  the  balloon  vaulted  over  the  trees,  and  we  saw  the  roadway 
outside  the  gardens  stuck  all  over  with  mobs  of  little  black  lillipntian  people,  while  the 
hubbub  of  the  voices  below,  and  ihe  cries  of  "Ah  hal-loon !"  frt)m  the  boys,  rose  to  the  ear 
Uke  the  sound  of  a  distant  school  let  loose  to  play. 

Now  began  that  peculiar  panoramic  effect  which  is  the  distinguishing  feature  of  the  first 
portion  of  a  view  from  a  balloon,  and  which  arises  from  the  utter  absence  of  all  sense  of 
motion  in  the  machine  itself,  and  the  consequent  transference  of  the  movement  to  the  ground 
beneath.  The  earth,  as  the  aeronautic  vessel  glided  over  it,  seemed  positively  to  consist  of 
a  continuous  series  of  scenes  which  were  being  drawn  along  underneath  us,  as  if  it  were 
some  diorama  laid  flat  upon  the  ground,  and  almost  gave  one  the  notion  that  the  world  was 
an  endless  landscape  stretched  upon  rollers,  which  some  invisible  sprites  below  were  busy 
revolving  for  our  especial  amusement. 

Then,  as  we  floated  along,  above  the  fields  in  a  line  with  the  Thames  towards  Richmond, 
and  looked  over  the  edge  of  the  car  in  which  we  were  standing  (and  which,  by  the  bye, 
was  like  a  big  ''  buck-basket,"  reaching  to  one's  breast),  the  sight  was  the  most  exquisite 
visual  delight  ever  experienced.  The  houses  directly  underneath  us  looked  like  the  tiny 
wooden  things  out  of  a  child's  box  of  toys,  and  the  streets  as  if  they  were  ruts  in  the 
ground;  and  we  could  hear  the  hum  of  the  voices  rising  from  every  spot  we  passed  over, 
&int  as  the  buzzing  of  so  many  bees. 

Far  beneath,  in  the  direction  we  were  sailing,  lay  the  suburban  fields;  and  here  the 
earth,  with  its  tiny  hills  and  plains  and  streams,  assiuned  the  appearance  of  the  little  coloured 
plaster  models  of  countries.  The  roadways  striping  the  bmd  were  like  narrow  brown 
ribbons,  and  the  river,  which  we  could  oee  winding  fSar  away,  resembled  a  long,  gray, 
metallic-looking  snake,  creeping  through  the  fields.  The  bridges  over  the  Thames  were 
positively  like  planks;  and  the  tiny  black  bai^ges,  as  they  floated  along  the  stream,  seemed 


A  BALLOON  VIEW  OF  LONDON.  9 

no  bigger  tlian  smnmer  iiuecis  on  the  water.  The  largest  meadowB  were  about  the  size  of 
green-beize  table  oovers ;  and  across  these  we  could  just  trace  the  line  of  the  South- Western 
Bailwayy  with  the  little  whiff  of  white  steam  issuing  from  some  passing  engine,  and  no 
greater  in  volume  Ihan  the  jet  of  vapour  from  an  ordinary  tea-kettle. 

TheHy  as  tJie  dusk  of  evening  approached,  and  the  gas-lights  along  the  difTerent  lines 
of  road  started  into  light,  one  after  another,  the  ground  seemed  to  be  covered  with 
little  illumination  lamps,  such  as  are  hung  on  Christmas-trees,  and  reminding  one  of 
those  that  are  occasionally  placed,  at  intervals,  along  the  grass  at  the  edge  of  the  gravel- 
walks  in  suburban  tea-gardens;  whilst  the  clusters  of  little  lights  at  the  spots  where  the 
hamlets  were  scattered  over  the  scene,  appeared  like  a  knot  of  fire-flies  in  the  air ;  and  in 
the  midst  of  these  the  eye  could,  here  and  there,  distinguish  the  tiny  crimson  speck  of 
some  railway  signal. 

In  the  opposite  direction  to  that  in  which  the  wind  was  insensibly  wafting  the  balloon, 
lay  the  leviathan  l(etropolis,  with  a  dense  canopy  of  smoke  hanging  over  it,  and  reminding 
one  of  the  fog  of  vapour  that  is  often  seen  steaming  up  from  tiie  fields  at  early  morning. 
It  was  impossible  to  tell  where  the  monster  city  began  or  ended,  for  ihe  buildings  stretched 
not  only  to  the  horizon  on  either  side,  but  far  away  into  the  distance,  where,  owing  to  the 
coming  shades  of  evening  and  the  dense  fumes  from  the  million  chimneys,  ike  town  seemed 
to  blend  into  the  sky,  so  that  there  was  no  distinguishing  earth  from  heaven.  The 
multitude  of  roofs  that  extended  back  from  the  foreground  was  positively  like  a  dingy  red 
sea,  heaving  in  bricken  billows,  and  the  seeming  waves  rising  up  one  after  the  other  till  the 
^e  grew  wearied  with  following  them.  .  Here  and  there  we  could  distinguish  little  bare  green 
patdies  of  parks,  and  occasionally  make  out  the  tiny  circular  enclosures  of  the  principal 
squares,  though,  from  the  height,  these  appeared  scarcely  bigger  than  wafers.  Further,  the 
fog  of  smoke  that  over-shadowed  the  giant  town  was  pierced  with  a  thousand  steeples  and 
pin-like  fiictory-chimneys. 

That  little  building,  no  bigger  than  one  of  the  small  china  houses  that  are  used  for 
huming  pastiUes  in,  is  Buckingham  Palace — ^with  St.  James's  Park,  dwindled  to  the  size  of 
a  card-table,  stretched  out  before  it.  Yonder  is  Bethlehem  Hospital,  with  its  dome,  now  of 
about  tilie  same  dimensions  as  a  beU. 

Then  tiie  little  mites  of  men,  crossing  the  bridges,  seemed  to  have  no  more  motion  in 
them  than  the  animalcules  in  cheese ;  while  the  streets  appeared  more  like  cracks  in  the 
soil  tiian  highways,  and  the  tiny  steamers  on  the  river  were  only  to  be  distinguished  by 
the  tinn  black  thread  of  smoke  trailing  after  them. 

Indeed,  it  was  a  most  wonderful  sight  to  behold  that  vast  bricken  mass  of  churches  and 
hospitals,  banks  and  prisons,  palaces  and  workhouses,  docks  and  refuges  for  the  destitute, 
parks  and  squares,  and  courts  and  alleys,  which  make  up  London — all  blent  into  one  inmiensc 
hlack  spot — to  look,  down  upon  the  whole  as  the  birds  of  the  air  look  down  upon  it,  and 
see  it  dwindled  into  a  mere  rubbish  heap—- to  contemplate  from  afeur  that  strange  conglome- 
ration of  vice,  avarice,  and  low  cunning,  of  noble  aspirations  and  humble  heroism,  and  to 
grasp  it  in  the  eye,  in  all  its  incongruous  integrity,  at  one  single  glance — ^to  take,  as  it 
were,  an  angel's  view  of  that  huge  town  where,  perhaps,  there  is  more  virtue  and  moi*e 
iniquity,  more  wealth  and  more  want,  brought  together  into  one  dense  focus  than  in 
any  cOier  part  of  the  earth— to  hear  the  hubbub  of  the  restless  sea  of  life  and  emotion 
below,  and  hear  it,  like  the  ocean  in  a  shell,  whispering  of  the  incessant  stmgglings 
ond  chafings  of  the  distant  tide — ^to  swing  in  the  air  high  above  all  the  petty  jealousies 
and  heart-burnings,  small  ambitions  and  vain  parade  of  "polite"  society,  and  feel,  for 
once,  tranquil  as  a  babe  in  a  cot,  and  that  you  are  hardly  of  the  earth  earthy,  as,  Jacob- 
like, you  mount  the  aerial  ladder,  and  half  lose  sight  of  the  "  great  commerciol  world" 
beneath,  where  men  are  regarded  as  mere  counters  to  play  with,  and  where  to  do  your 
nei^bour  as  your  neighbour  would  do  you  constitutes  the  first  principle  in  the  religion 


10  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

of  tarade — ^to  feel  yourself  floating  througli  the  endless  realms  of  space,  and  drinking  in 
the  pure  thin  air  of  the  skies,  as  you  go  sailing  along  almost  among  the  stars,  free  as  ^*  the 
lark  at  heaven's  gate/'  and  enjoying,  for  a  brief  half  hour,  at  least,  a  foretaste  of  that 
Elysian  destiny  which  is  the  ultimate  hope  of  all. 

Such  is  the  scene  we  behold,   and  such  the  thoughts  that  stir  the  brain  on  contem- 
plating London  from  the  car  of  a  balloon.* 

*  There  are  some  peculiar  effects  in  connection  with  balloon  trayelUog  that  are  worthy  of  further  mention. 
Tho  first  is  the  utter  absence  of  all  sense  of  motion  in  the  yehicle.    Motion,  indeed,  at  all  times  is  only  made 
known  to  us  by  thoso  abrupt  changes  in  our  direction  which  consist  of  what  are  termed  joltings ;  for  tho 
body,  from  its  *'  vis  inertuB"  partaking  of  the  movement  of  the  conveyance  in  which  it  is  travelling,  is,  of 
course,  thrown  forcibly  forwards  or  sideways,  directly  the  coui-se  of  the  machine  is  violently  arrested  or 
altered.    In  a  balloon,  moreover,  we  are  not  even  made  con^ious  of  our  motion  by  the  ordinary  feeling 
of  the  air  blowing  against  the  face  as  we  rush  through  it,  for  as  the  vessel  travels  vfUh  the  wind,  no  such 
effect  is  produced ;  and  it  is  most  striking  to  find  the  clouds,  from  the  same  cause,  apparently  as  motionless  as 
rocks ;  for  as  they  too  are  travelling  vjith  the  balloon,  and  at  precisely  the  same  rate,  they  naturally  cannot 
but  appear  to  be  absolutely  still.    Hence,  under  such  circumstances,  we  have  no  means  of  teUing  whether  we 
are  ascending  or  descending,  except  by  pieces  of  paper  thrown  out  from  the  car,  and  which  are  of  course 
left  below  if  the  machine  be  rising,  and  above  if  it  be  flailing  ;  indeed,  when  the  balloon  in  which  Albert 
Smith  ascended  fi«m  Vauzhall  burst,  and  he  and  his  aerial  companions  were  being  precipitated  to  the  earth 
with  the  velocity  of  a  stone,  the  only  indication  they  got  of  the  rate  of  their  descent  was  by  resorting  to  the 
little  paper  "  logs,"  before  mentioned.     And  Mr.  Green  assured  me  that  though  he  has  travelled  in  the  air 
during  a  gale  of  wind  at  the  rate  of  ninety-five  miles  in  the  hour,  he  was  utterly  unconscious  not  only  of 
the  velocity  with  which  he  had  been  projected,  as  it  were,  through  the  atmosphere,  but  also  of  the  fury  of  tho 
hurricane  itself — feeling  as  perfectly  tranquil  aU  the  while  as  if  he  had  been  seated  in  his  easy  chair  by 
his  own  fireside;  nor  was  it  until  he  reached  the  earth,  and  the  balloon  became  fixed  to  tho  ground  by 
means  of  tho  grapnel,  that  he  was  sensible  of  the  violence  of  the  wind  (and  it  was  the  same  with  us  during 
our  trip) ;  for  thm^  as  the  machine  offered  a  considerable  obstruction  to  the  passage  of  the  air,  the  power  of 
the  gale  was  rendered  apparent — since,  strange  to  say,  without  resistance  there  is  no  force.    Hence  there  is  but 
littie  danger  in  aeronautic  excursions  while  the  balloon  remains  in  the  air — and  so  indeed  there  is  with  a  ship, 
as  long  as  it  has  plenty  of  sea  room ;  whereas,  directly  the  aerial  machine  is  fixed  to  the  ground,  it  is  like  a 
stranded  vessel,  and  becomes  the  sport  of  the  wind,  as  the  ship,  similarly  oircumstanced,  is  of  tfaa  wares. 
Another  curious  effect  of  the  aerial  ascent  was,  that  the  earth,  when  we  were  at  our  greatest  altitude,  positively 
appeared  concave,  looking  like  a  huge  dark  bowl  rather  than  the  oonvex  sphere,  aodi  as  we  naturally 
expect  to  see  it.    This,  however,  was  a  mere  effect  of  perspective,  for  it  is  a  law  of  vision  that  the  horixon  or 
boundary  line  of  the  sight  always  appears  on  a  level  with  the  eye— the  fore-ground  being,  in  all  ordinary 
views,  directly  at  the  feet  of  the  spectator,  and  the  extreme  baek-ground  some  five  feet  and  a  half  above  i^ 
while  the  rolative  distances  of  the  intermediate  objects  are  represented  pictorially  to  the  eye  by  their  relatiTe 
heights  above  the  lowest,  and  therefore  the  nearest  object  in  the  scene — so  that  piotprial  distance  is  really  at 
right  angles  to  tangible  distance,  the  former  being  a  line  parallel  with  the  body,  and  the  latter  on&perpen" 
dieular  to  it.    Hence,  as  the  horizon  always  appears  to  be  on  a  level  with  our  eye  (which  is  literally  the 
centre  of  a  hollow  sphere  rather  than  of  a  flat  cirele  during  vision),  it  naturally  seems  to  rise  as  we  rise,  until 
at  length  the  elevation  of  tha  circular  boundary  line  of  the  sight  becomes  so  marked,  owing  to  our  own 
elevation,  that  the  earth  assumes  the  anomalous  appearance,  as  we  have  said,  of  a  concave  rather  than  a 
convex  body.    This  optical  illusion  has,  according  to  the  best  of  our  recollection,  never  been  noticed  or 
explained  before,  so  that  it  becomes  worthy  of  record.    Another  curious  effect,  but  upon  another  sense,  was 
the  extraordinary,  and  indeed  painful,  pressure  upon  the  ears  which  occurred  at  our  greatest  altitude.    This 
was  precisely  the  same  sensation  as  is  produced  during  a  descent  in  a  diving-bell,  and  it  at  first  seemed 
strange  that   such  a  result,  which,  in  the  case  of  the  diving-bell,  obviously   arises  from   the  extreme 
condensation  of  the  air  within  the  submerged  vessel,  and  its  consequent  greater  pressure  on  the  tympanum — 
should  be  brought  about  in  a  balloon  immediately  it  enters  a  stratum  of  air  where  the  rare/aetion  is  greater 
than  usual.    Here  were  two  direcUy  opposite  causes  producing  the  same  effect     A  moment's  reflection, 
however,  taught  us  that  the  sensation  experienced  in  the  diving-bcU  arises  from  tho  drum  of  tho  oar  being 
unduly  strained  by  the  pressure  of  the  external  air ;  whereas  tho  sensation  experienced  in  the  balloon  was 
produced  by  the  air  imidc  the  ear  acting  in  tho  same  manner* 


SIZE  AND  POPULATION  OF  LONDON. 


11 


§  3. 


SOME  IDBA  OF  THE  SIZE  AND  POPULATION  OF  LONDON. 


It  is  strange  how  baid  it  is  for  the  mind  to  arrive  at  any  definite  notion  as  to  .aggregate 
nmnbers  or  dimensions  in  space.  The  savage  who  can  connt  only  np  to  ten,  points  to  the 
hairs  of  his  head,  in  order  to  convey  the  complex  idea  of  some  score  or  two  of  objects;  and 
although  educated  people  can  generally  form  a  concrete  conception  of  hundreds,  without 
losing  aU  sense  of  the  individual  units  composing  the  sum,  it  is  certain,  nevertheless,  that 
when  the  aggregate  reaches  thousands  and  millions,  even  the  best  disciplined  intellects 
have  a  very  hazy  notion  of  the  distinct  numerical  elements  maVing  up  the  gross  idea — 
the  same  as  they  have  of  the  particular  stars  that  go  to  form  some  unresolved  nebulae,  or  of 
the  several  atoms  in  the  forty  thousand  millions  of  siliceous  shells  of  insects  that  Ehrenberg 
assures  us  are  contained  in  eveiy  cubic  inch  of  the  polishing  slate  of  Bilin. 

Is  it  noty  then,  the  mere  pedantry  of  statistics  to  inform  the  reader,  while  professing  to 
describe  the  size  and  population  of  the  Great  Metropolis,  that,  according  to  the  returns  of  the 
last  census,  it  is  78,029  statute  acres,  or  122  square  miles,  in  extent;  that  it  contains  327,391 
houses ;  and  that  it  numbers  2,362,236  souls  within  its  boundaries ! 

Surely  the  mind  is  no  more  enabled  to  realize  the  immensity  of  the  largest  city  in  the 
world  by  such  information  as  this,  than  we  are  helped  to  comprehend  the  vastness  of  the 
sea  by  being  told  that  the  total  area  of  aU  the  oceans  amounts  to  145  millions  of  square  miles, 
and  that  it  contains  altogether  6,441  billions  of  tons  of  common  salt.* 

"We  will,  however,  endeavour  to  conjure  up  a  more  vivid  picture  of  the  giant  <jity  in  the 
brain,  not  only  of  those  who  have  never  visited  the  spot,  but  of  those  who,  though  living 
in  it  all  their  lives,  have  hardly  any  clearer  ideas  of  the  town,  in  its  vast  integrity,  than  the 
fishes  have  of  the  Atlantic  in  which  they  swim. 

We  must  premise,  then,  that  it  is  as  dificult  to  tell  where  the  HetropcGs  hegins,  and 
where  it  ends,  as  it  is  to  point  out  the  particidar  line  of  demarcation  betwSn  the  several 
colours  of  the  rainbow ;  for  the  suburban  villages  blend  so  insensiblv  yito  the  city,  that  one 
mi^t  as  well  attempt  to  define  the  precise  point  where  the  water .b^g;)gs  to  besalt  at  the 
month  of  some  estuary.  ^^♦•<t: 

Hence,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  pass  special  Acts  of  Parliament  in  order  to  let 
Londoners  know  how  far  London  really  extends  into  the  country,  and  to  define  the  size  of 
the  Great  Metropolis  according  to  law.f 

This  is,  however,  very  much  of  a  piece  with  the  renowned  stroke  of  legislation  performed 


•  See  AmaMt  Q§oXogyy  page  28. 

t  The  following  ftre  the  terms  of  the  Burial  Act  (15  and  16  Vict,  cap.  85) : — '<  For  the  parposes  o£  this  Act, 
the  expression  'the  Metropolis'  shall  be  construed  to  mean  and  include  the  Cities  and  Liberties  of  London 
and  Westminster,  the  Borough  of  Southwark,  and  the  Parishes,  Precincts,  Townships,  and  Places  mentioned 
in  the  Schedule  (A.)  to  this  Act" 

BOBSDVLB  A. 


The  City  of  London  and  the  Liberties  thereof,  the 
Inner  Temple,  and  Middle  Temple,  and  all 
other  Places  and  Parts  of  Places  contained 
within  the  exterior  Boundaries  of  the  Liberties 
of  the  City  of  London. 

The  Citj  and  Liberties  of  Westminster. 
The  Parishee  of  Stt  Margaret  and  St  John  the 


The  Parish  of  St  Martin  in  the  Fields. 

The  Parish  of  St.  George,  Hanover  Squarei 

The  Parish  of  St  James. 

The  Parish  of  St  Mary-le-Strand,  as  well  within 

the  Liberty  of  Westminster  as  within  the  Duchy 

Liberty. 
The  Parish  of  St  Clement  Banes,  as  weU  within 

the  Liberty  of  Westminster  as  within  the  Duchy 

Liberty. 


12 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOISfDOJIT. 


by  the  progresB^liating  King  Canute,  since  it  is  quite  as  absurd  for  rulers  to  say,  ''  Thus  far 
shalt  thou  go,  and  no  farther/'  to  the  bricks  and  mortar  of  London,  as  to  the  waves  of  the  ocean. 
In  the  year  1603,  for  instance,  we  find  that  the  legal  limits  of  London,  ''  within  and 
without  the  walls,''  were  but  little  better  than  fifteen  hundred  statute  acres ;  whereas  in  the 
next  century  the  Metropolis,  ''  according  to  law,"  had  swollen  to  upwards  of  ttoewty  thousand 
acres.  Then  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century  the  area  was  farther  extended  to  thirtif 
thousand  acres;  and  in  1837,  it  was  again  increased  to  forttf'Stx  thousand;  whilst  now  it  is 
allowed  by  Act  of  Parliament  to  coTcr  a  surface  of  no  less  than  seventy-eight  thousand  acres 
in  extent. 


The  Parish  of  St.  Pau],  Corent  Garden. 

Tho  Parish  of  St  Anne,  Soho. 

Whitehall  Gardens  (whether  the  same  be  parochial 

or  eztra-parochial). 
Whitehall  (whether  the  same  be  parochial  or  eztra- 

parochial). 
Eiehmond  Terrace  (whether  the  same  be  parochial 

or  extra-parochial). 
The  Close  of  the  Collegiate  Church  of  St.  Peter. 


The  Parishes  of  St.  Giles  in  the  Fields  and  St. 

George,  Bloomsbury. 
The  Parities  of  St.  Andrew,  Holboro,  and  St  George 

the  Martyr. 
The  Liberty  of  Hatton  Garden,  8affix>n  Hill,  and 

Ely  Bents. 
The  Liberty  of  the  RoUa. 
The  Parish  of  St  Pancras. 
The  Parish  of  St  John,  Hampstcad. 
The  Parish  of  St  Marylebone. 
The  Parish  of  Paddington. 
The  Precinct  of  the  Sayoy. 
The  Parish  of  St  Luke. 
The  Liberty  of  Glasshouse  Yard. 
The  Parish  of  St.  Sepulchre. 
The  Parish  of  St  James,  Clerkonwell,  including 

both  Districts  of  St  James  and  St  John. 
The  Parish  of  St  Mary,  Islington. 
The  Parish  of  St  Mary,  Stoke  NewingtoH. 
The  Charterhouse. 

The  Parish  of  St  Mary,  Whitechapel. 
The  Parish  of  Christchurch,  Spitalfields. 
The  Parish  of  St  Leonard,  Shoreditch. 
The  Liberty  of  Norton  Folgate. 
The  Parish  of  St  John,  Hackney. 
The  Parish  of  St  Matthew,  Bethnal  Green. 
The  Hamlet  of  Mile-end  Old  Town. 
The  Hamlet  of  Mile-end  New  Town. 
The  Parish  of  St  Mary,  Stratford,  Bow. 
The  Parish  of  Bromley,  St  Leonard. 
The  Parish  of  All  Saints,  Poplar. 
The  Parish  of  St  Anne,  Limehouse. 
The  Hamlet  of  Batdiffe. 
The  Parish  of  St  Paul,  Shadwell. 
The  Parish  of  St  George  in  the  East 
Tho  Parish  of  St  John,  Wapping. 
The  Liberty  of  East  Smithfield. 
The  Precinot  of  St  Catherine. 


The  Liberty  of  Her  Majesty's  Tower  of  London | 
consisting  of — 

The  Liberty  of  the  Old  Artillery  Ground. 

The  Parish  of  Trinity,  Minories. 

The  Old  Tower  Precinct. 

The  Precinct  of  the  Tower  Within. 

The  Precinct  of  Wellclose. 
The  Parish  of  Kensington. 
Tho  Parish  of  St  Luke,  Chelsea. 
The  Parish  of  Fulham. 
The  Parish  of  Hammersmith. 
Lincoln's  Inn. 
New  Inn. 
Gray's  Inn. 
Staple  Inn. 

That  Part  of  FumiyaVs  Inn,  in  the  County  pf  Mid- 
dlesex. 
Ely  Place. 
The  Parish  of  Willesden. 

InKmt, 
The  Parish  of  St  Paul,  Deptford. 
The  Parish  of  St  Nicholas,  Deptford. 
The  Parish  of  Greenwich. 
The  Parish  of  Woolwich. 
The  Parish  of  Charlton. 
The  Parish  of  Plumstead. 

In  Surrey » 

The  Borough  of  Southwark. 
The  Parish  of  St  George  the  Martyr. 
The  Parish  of  St.  Sariour. 
The  Parish  of  St  John,  Horsleydown. 
The  Parish  of  St.  Olave. 
The  Parish  of  St.  Thomas. 
The  Parish  of  Battersea  (except  the  Hamlet  of 

Penge). 
The  Parish  of  Bermondsey. 
The  Parish  of  Camberwell. 
The  Parish  of  Clapham. 
The  Parish  of  Lambeth. 
The  Parish  of  Newington. 
The  Parish  of  Putney.     , 
The  Parish  of  Botherhithe. 
The  Parish  of  Streatham. 
The  Parish  of  Tooting. 
The  Pariah  of  Wandsworth 
The  Parish  of  Christchurch. 
The  Clink  Liberty. 
The  Hamlet  of  Hatoham  in  the  Parish  of  Deptford. 


SIZE  AND  POPULATION  OF  LONDON.  13 

Lideed,  the  increase  of  the  metropolitan  population  within  the  last  ten  years,  tells  ns  that 
former  house-room  has  to  be  provided  in  London  every  twelvemonth  for  upwards  of  forty 
thousand  new  comers.  Of  these  about  half  are  strangers ;  fbr,  as  the  annual  excess  of  births 
over  deaths  in  the  Metropolis  amounts  to  but  little  better  than  half  the  yearly  increase  in  the 
number  of  the  people,  it  is  manifest  that  nearly  twenty  thousand  individuals  must  come  and 
settle  in  the  town  every  year,  from  other  parts — a  rate  of  immigration  as  great  as  if  the 
entire  population  of  Guernsey  had  left  their  native  island  for  the  '*  little  village.''* 

No  wonder,  then,  that  the  returns  show  that  there  are  continually  4,000  new  houses  in 
the  course  of  erection ;  for  it  nmy  be  truly  said  our  Metropolis  increases  annually  by  the 
addition  of  a  town  of  considerable  size. 

Hence,  even  though,  as  Maitland  says,  London  had  a  century  ago  absorbed  into  its  body 
one  city,  one  borough,  and  forty-throe  villages,  it  still  continues  daily  devouring  suburbs, 
and  swaUowing  up  green  field  after  green  field,  and  the  builders  go  on  raising  houses  where 
the  market-gardeners  a  short  time  ago  raised  cabbages  instead — ^the  Metropolis  throwing  out 
its  many  fibres  of  streets  like  the  thousand  roots  of  an  old  tree  stretching  flEir  into  the  soil ; 
so  that  it  is  evident  that  though  the  late  Burial  Acts  pretended  to  mark  out  the  limits  of  the 
Capital  in  1 852,  still,  in  another  decenniad  another  Act  will  have  to  be  passed,  incorporating  other 
hamlets  with  the  town ;  even  as  the  Old  Bills  of  Mortality,  which  were  issued  by  the  Company 
of  Parish  Clerks  in  1603,  were  forced  in  a  few  years  after  the  date  to  add  St.  Giles  in  the 
Fields  and  Glerkenwell  to  the  metropolitan  circle,  and  at  the  end  of  the  century  to  include  also 
the  villages  of  Hackney,  and  Islington,  and  Newington,  and  Botherhithe ;  whilst  the  New  Bills 
have  since  encompassed  the  hamlets  of  Kensington,  and  Paddington,  and  Hammersmith,  and 
Fulham,  and  Camberwell,  and  Wandsworth,  and  Deptford,  and  Greenwich,  and  Plumstead, 
and  Lewisham,  and  Hampstead ;  until  at  length  the  Capital  has  been  made  to  consist,  not  only 
of  some  score  of  Wicks,  and  Townships,  and  Precincts,  and  Liberties,  but  to  comprise  the  two 
great  boroughs  of  Southwark  and  Greenwich,  as  well  as  the  Episcopal  Cities  of  Westminster 
and  London  proper.  Indeed,  the  monster  Metropolis  now  comprehends,  within  its  par- 
liamentary boundaries,  what  once  constituted  the  territories  of  four  Saxon  Commonwealths-'^ 
the  kingdom  of  the  Middle  Saxons,  East  Saxons,  the  South  Kick,  and  the  Kentwaras. 

Now  as  regards  the  actual  size  of  this  enormous  city,  it  may  be  said  that  its  area  is 
considerably  more  than  twice  the  dimensions  of  the  island  of  St.  Helena,  and  very  nearly 
double  that  of  Jersey — ^being  not  quite  so  large  as  Elba,  but  nearly  one-half  the  superficial 
extent  of  Madeira.  Not  only  does  it  stretch  into  the  three  counties  of  Middlesex,  Surrey, 
and  Kent,  but  the  length  of  that  portion  of  the  Thames  which  traverses  the  Metropolis — and 
divides  the  river,  as  it  winds  along,  into  two  great  metrop6litan  provinces  as  it  were — measures 
no  less  than  twenty  miles  from  Hammersmith  to  Woolwich ;  whilst  in  its  course  the  river 
receives  the  waters  of  the  navigable  Boding  and  Lea  on  the  one  side,  and  the  Bavensboume 
and  Wandle  on  the  other,  together  with  many  other  minor  streams  that  are  now  buried 
under  tho  houses,  and  made  to  do  the  duty  of  sewers,  though  they  wore,  at  one  time,  of 
sufficient  capacity  to  be  the  scones  of  naval  battles.f 


*  Tho  above  statement  is  proyed  tbus : — 

2,362,236  ss  Population  of  London  in  1851. 
1,948,417  ss  „  „         1841. 


413,819  =s  Increase  of  Population  in  10  years. 


41,381*9  =  Annual  increase. 


84,944  =  Births  in  London,  in  1855. 
61,506  =  Deaths  „  „ 


23,438  ss  Annual  excess  of  Births  over  Deaths. 
17,943  =s  Annual  Immigration. 


41,385'  =£  Annual  Increase. 


t    "  Anciently,"  says  Stowe,  <'  until  tho  Conqueror's  time,  and  two  hundred  years  afterwards,  the  dty  of 
London  was  watered— besides  the  famous  river  of  Thames,  on  the  south— with  the  river  of  Wells,  as  it  was 


14  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOITOOI^, 

From  east  to  west,  London  stretches  from  Plumstead  to  Hammersmith  on  the  Middlesex 
side  of  the  liyer,  and  from  Woolwich  to  Wandsworth  on  the  Surrey  side,  and  there  is  nearly 
one  continuous  street  of  houses  joining  these  extreme  points,  and  measuring  about  fourteen 
miles  in  length ;  whilst  the  line  of  buildings  running  north  and  south,  and  reaching  from 
Holloway  to  Camberwell,  is  said  to  be  upwards  of  twelve  miles  long. 

If,  however,  we  estimate  only  the  solid  mass  of  houses  in  the  centre,  where  the  tenements 
are  packed  almost  back  to  back,  and  nearly  as  close  as  the  bales  of  cotton  in  the  hold  of  a 
merchant  ship,  the  area  so  occupied  is  found  to  be  larger,  even,  than  the  Island  of  Guernsey.* 

Again,  an  enumeration  of  the  gross  amount  of  buildings  which  make  up  the  dense  crowd 
of  houses  in  London  is  qidte  as  useless,  for  all  imaginative  purposes,  as  is  the  specification  of 
the  number  of  statute  acres  comprised  within  its  area,  for  helping  us  to  conceive  its  size. 
A  statement,  on  the  contrary,  of  the  mere  length  of  the  line  that  the  buildings  would  form  if 
joined  all  together  in  one  continuous  row,  will  give  us  a  far  better  idea  of  the  gross  extent  of 
the  whole.  This  is  easily  arrived  at  by  assuming  each  of  the  tenements  to  have  an  average 
frontage  of  fifteen  feet  in  width ;  and  thus  we  find  that  the  entire  length  of  the  buildings 
throughout  London  amounts  to  near  upon  one  thousand  miles,  so  that  if  they  were  all  ranged 
in  a  line,  they  would  form  one  continuous  street,  long  enough  to  reach  across  the  whole  of 
England  and  France,  from  York  to  the  Pyrenees ! 

If,  then,  such  be  the  mere  length  of  the  aggregate  houses  in  London,  it  may  be  readily 
conceived  that  the  streets  of  the  Metropolis — ^which,  on  looking  at  the  map,  seem  to  be  a 
perfect  maze  of  bricks  and  mortar — should  be  some  thousands  in  number ;  and,  accordingly,  it 
appears  that  there  are  upwards  of  10,500  distinct  streets,  squares,  circuses,  crescents, 
terraces,  villas,  rows,  buildings,  places,  lanes,  courts,  alleys,  mews,  yards,  rents,  &c., 
particularized  in  that  huge  civic  encyclopaedia,  the  London  Post-Office  Directory. 

Many  of  these  thoroughfares,  too,  are  of  no  inconsiderable  dimensions.  Oxford  Street  alone 
is  more  than  one  mile  and  a  third  long,  and  Regent  Street,  from  Langham  Church  to  Carlton 
Terrace,  measures  nearly  one  mile  in  length ;  whilst  the  two  great  lines  of  thoroughfare 
parallel  to  the  river,  the  one  extending  along  Oxford  Street,  Holbom,  Cheapside,  ComMll,  and 
Whitechapel  to  Mile-end,  and  which  is  really  but  one  street  with  different  names,  and  the 
other  stretching  from  Knightsbridge  along  Piccadilly,  the  Haymarket,  Pall  Mall  East,  the 
Strand,  Fleet  Street,  Cannon  Street,  Tower  Street,  and  so  on  by  Ratcliffe  Highway  to  the 
West  India  Docks — are  each  above  six  miles  from  one  end  to  the  other. 

then  called  (but  Fleete'  dike  afterwards :— "  because  it  runneth  past  the  Fleete,"  he  adds  in  another 
place)  on  the  west ;  with  the  water  called  Wallbrooke  running  through  the  midst  of  the  city  into  the  river 
of  Thames,  serving  the  heart  thereof;  and  with  a  fourth  water  or  bourne,  which  ran  within  the  city  through 
Langboume  ward,  watering  that  part  in  the  east.  In  the  west  suburbs  was  also  another  great  water  called 
Oldbome,  which  had  its  fall  into  the  river  of  Wells."  •  «  «  «  Moreover,  "  in  a  fair  book  of  Parliament 
records  now  lately  restored  to  the  Tower,"  he  adds,  "  it  appears  that  a  Parliament  being  holden  at  Carlisle  in 
the  year  1307  (the  35th  of  Edward  I.),  Henry  Lacy,  Earl  of  Lincoln,  complained  that  whereas  in  times 
past  the  course  of  water  running  at  London  under  Oldbome  bridge  and  Fleete  bridge  into  the  Thames,  had 
been  of  such  breadth  andi  depth.that  ten  or  twelve  ships  navies  at  onee^  with  mere/umdise,  were  wont  to  come  to 
the  aforesaid  bridge  of  Fleete  and  some  of  them  to  Oldbome  bridge ;  now  the  same  course,  by  filth  of  the 
tanners  and  such  others,  is  sore  decayed ;  also  by  raising  of  wharfs  ;  but  especially  by  a  diversion  of  water 
made  by  them  of  the  new  Temple,  in  the  first  year  of  King  John,  for  their  mills,  standing  without  Baynard's 
Castle,  and  divers  other  impediments,  so  that  the  said  ships  cannot  enter  as  they  were  wont,  and  as  they 
ought."  •  *  *  •  Farther,  we  are  told  by  the  same  historian,  that  "  in  the  year  1502,  the  seventh  of 
Henry  VII.,  the  whole  course  of  the  Fleete  dike  (then  so  called)  was  scowered  down  to  the  Thames,  so  that 
boats  with  fish  and  fuel  were  rowed  to  the  Fleete  bridge  and  to  Oldbome  bridge,  as  fhey  of  old  time  had 
been  accustomed,  which  was  a  great  commodity  to  all  the  inhabitants  in  that  part  of  the  city."~ST0WB'8 
Survey  (Thoms*  Edition),  pp.  5,  6. 

*  The  comparative  density  of  the  buildings  in  the  different  parts  of  London  may  be  indicated  by  the  fact, 
that  in  the  heart  of  the  city  there  ore  upwards  of  30  houses  to  ^e  acre ;  whereas  in  the  outlying  localities  of 


SIZE  AND  POPULATIOl!^  OF  LONDON. 


15 


Bat  ^'  if  you  wish/'  said  Dr.  Johneon,  ''  to  have  a  just  notion  of  the  magnitude  of  this 
dty,  you  mufit  not  bo  satisfied  with  seeing  its  streets  and  squares,  but  must  survey  the 
litOe  lanes  and  courts.  It  is  not/'  he  added,  ''in  the  showy  evolution  of  buildings,  but 
in  tiie  multiplicity  of  human  habitations,  which  are  crowded  together,  that  the  wonderM 
immenaity  of  London  consists." 

Indeed,  the  gross  extent  of  the  London  streets,  small  as  weU  as  great,  is  almost 
incredible ;  for  a  return  by  the  Police,  in  1850,  makes  the  aggregate  length  of  the  metro- 
politan thorough&res  amount  to  no  less  that  1750  miles — so  that,  according  to  this,  the 
highways  and  bycways  of  the  Capital  must  be  even  longer  than  the  lines  of  the  five  principal 
London  railways — the  North  Western,  Great  Western,  South  Western,  Oreat  Northern,  and 
Eastern  Counties — all  added  on  one  to  another ;  or  considerably  more  than  three  times  the 
length  of  the  railway  from  London,  vtd  Calais  and  Ghent,  to  Cologne.  The  cost  of  form- 
ing thiB  astounding  length  of  paved  roadway,  I  have  elsewhere  shown  to  amount  to  no  less 
than  £14,000,000;  and  that  not  only  have  these  same  roadways  to  be  entirely  relaid  every 
five  years,  but  the  mere  repairs  upon  them  cost  upwards  of  £1,800,000  per  annum. 


Kenrington  and  Camberwell,  there  are  but  little  more  than  two  houses ;  and  in  Hampttead  not  quite  one  house 
to  the  same  extent  of  ground— as  may  be  seen  by  the  following 

TABLE   SHOWIKG  THE  AREA,  KIBCBEB  OF  EOXTSES,  ASH  PHOPOBTIOK   OF   H0T7SES  TO  EACH  ACRE 

IN  LONDON,  1851. 


DiRUCTS. 


WB8T  DIBTRICIS. 

Kensingtoti     •        •        . 
Chelsea    ,        ,        ,       , 
St.  George,  Hanover  Squarv 
Westniipster  . 
St.  Hartin-in-the-Fields 
St.  James,  Westminster 

Total  West  Districts 

HOSTH  DISTRICTS. 


Marylebono 
Hampstead 
PSncras  • 
Islington 
Hadcney . 


Total  North  Districts 


CBNTBAL  DISTRICTS, 


St  Giles 
Stnmd    . 
Holhom 
,  Clerkenwell 
StLnke 
East  London 
West  London 
LomdiHi  City 


Total,  Central  Districts 


7374 
865 

1161 
917 
305 
16  i 


10,786 


1,509 
2,252 
2,716 
3,127 
3,929 


13,533 


245 
174 
196 
380 
220 
153 
136 
434 


n 

^  o 
W 

p 


19,082 
7,953 
9,404 
6,978 
2,465 
3,533 


49,505 


16,448 
1,822 
19,688 
14,736 
10,517 


63,221 


4,996 
4,110 
4,519 
7,549 
6,616 
4,945 
2,850 
8,373 


1,938 


44,058 


2-7 
9-1 
8  0 
7-6 
80 
210 


4*5 


10*9 
0-8 
7-2 
4-7 
2-6 


4-6 


200 
23-6 
23-0 
19-8 
300 
32-3 
21-6 
19-2 


DiSTKZCtl. 


BAST  DISTRICTS. 

Shoreditoh 
Bethnal  Green 
Whitechapel   . 
St.  George-in-the-£ast 
Stepney  . 

•  Poplar     . 

I 

!        Total,  East  Districts 

B0I7TH  DISTRICTS. 


St.  SaTiour,  Southwark. 

St  Olave  „ 

Bermondsey    . 

St  George,  Southwark 

Newington 

Lamheth 

Wandsworth 

CambcrwcU 

Rotherhithe 

Greenwich 

Lewisham 


Total,  South  Districts 


22-7 


Total  for  all  London 


*^ 

3 

CO 


a 


§1 


646 

16,182 

760 

13,819 

400 

9,161 

243 

6,351 

1,257 

17,348 

2,918 

7,283 

6,230 

70,144 

250 

4,856 

169 

2,436 

688 

7,466 

282 

7,513 

624 

11,205 

4,015 

21,659 

11,695 

9,163 

^4,342 

10,072 

886 

3,058 

5,367 

1,580 

17,224 

6,624 

45,542 

• 

100,453 

78,029 

327,451 

850 
181 
22-5 
26-1 
13-8 
2-4 


11-2 


19*4 

14*4 

10-8 

26-6 

179 

5-3 

0-7 

2-3 

3-4 

2-9 

0-3 


2-4 


4-1 


16 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOITDON, 


Of  the  enormous  mass  of  human  beings  comprised  in  the  London  population,  it  is  eyen  mxae 
difficult  to  have  an  adequate  conception,  than  to  realize  to  our  minds  the  gross  number  of  its 
houses  and  length  of  its  streets.  One  way,  however,  in  which  we  may  aniye  at  a  vague  idea 
of  the  dense  human  multitude  is,  by  comparing  the  number  of  people  resident  in  the  Metropolis 
with  those  that  lined  the  thoroughfares  on  the  day  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  funeral;  and 
j  adging  by  the  extent  of  the  crowd  collected  on  that  occasion,  as  to  the  probable  dimensions  of  the 
mob  that  would  be  formed  were  the  people  of  London  to  be  all  gathered  together  into  one  body. 

It  was  calculated  on  that  occasion  that  there  were  a  million  and  a  half  of  people  in  the 
streets  to  witness  the  procession,  and  that  these  covered  the  pathwayis  all  along  the  line  of 
route  for  a  distance  of  three  miles.  Hence  it  follows,  that  were  the  whole  of  the  metro- 
politan population  ever  to  be  congregated  in  the  streets  at  one  and  the  same  time,  they 
would  form  a  dense  mass  of  human  beings  near  upon  five  miles  long. 

Or,  to  put  the  matter  stUl  more  forcibly  before  the  mind,  we  may  say,  that  if  the  entire 
people  of  the  capital  were  to  be  drawn  up  in  marching  order,  two  and  two,  the  length  of  the 
great  army  of  Londoners  would  be  no  less  than  670  miles ;  and,  supposing  them  to  move  at 
the  rate  of  three  miles  an  hour,  it  would  require  more  than  nine  days  and  nights  for  the 
aggregate  population  to  pass  by  !* 

*  The  distribution  and  relative  density  of  tho  population  throughout  London  is  numerically  as  follows : — 

TABLE  SHOWING  THE  DISTBIBirriOy  AND  DENSITY  OF  THE  POPULATION  OF  LONDON  IN  1851. 


f 

• 

s 

•SiS 

• 

9 

• 

4      ^55     [ 

DiSTSlOTS. 

Area  in 
Statute  Aei 

1 

1 

Total 
of  Pernor 

Number  ( 

Persons  1 

Acre. 

DXSTBICTS. 

1 
1 

1 

1 

Area  in 
Statute  Aei 

1 

J 

ToUl 
of  Penon 

1 

West  Disticts. 

1     East  Districts. 

Kensington 

7.374 

49,949  70,055 

120,004 

16-2 

Shoreditch . 

646 

52,087 

57,170 

109,257 

1(591 

Chelsea 

860 

25,475  31,063 

565,38 

65-4 

Bethnal  Green    . 

760 

44,081 

46,112 

90,193 

118-6 

St  George,  Hanover 

Whitechapel 

406 

40,271 

39,488 

79,769 

196-4 

Square    . 

1,161 

81,920 

41,310 

73,230 

63*0 

St.   George-in-the- 

Westminster 

917 

32,494 

83,125 

65.609 

71-5 

!    East 

243 

23,496 

24,880 

48.376 

199-0 

St.  Martin-in-the- 

Stepney 

1,257 

52.342 

58,433 

110,777 

88-1 

Fields      . 

305 

11,918 

12,722 

24,640 

80-8 

Poplar 

2,928 

23,902 

23,260 

47.162 

16-1 

St  James,  Westmin- 
ster .      .       .       . 

ToUl,  West  Districts 

1G4 
10,786 

17,377 

19,029 

86,406 

210-9 
34-9 

Total,  East  DistricU 

6,230 

236,179 

249,343 

485,622 

77*9 

169,133 

207,294 

376,427 

South  Districts. 

« 

North  DisTiiiers. 

St   Saviour,   South- 

1 

vrark 

250 

17,482 

18,299 

35|731 

142-9. 

Marylebone 

1,509 

69,115 

88,581 

157,696 

104*5 

St  Clave,  ditto  . 

169 

9.660 

9,716 

19,375;114*6; 

Hsmpstead 

2,252 

4,960 

7,026 

11,986 

5-3 

Bemiondsey 

688 

23,511 

24,617 

48,128 

69-9 

Pancras 

2.716 

76,144 

90,812 

166,956 

61-4 

St   George,    South- 

Islington     . 

8,127 

42,760 

52,567 

95,329 

30*4 

Tvark 

282 

25,374 

26,450 

68,824 

•208-5 

Hackney     . 

8,929 

2.5,083 

33,346 

58,429 

14*8 

Newington 

624 

80,255 

34,561 

64,816 

103-8 

T^iimliAtli 

4,015 
11,095 

63,673 
23,011 

7a  fWS 

1 10  V9n*    5i-T  1 

Total,  North  Districts 

13,533'2I8.054;272,332 

490,396 

36*2 

Wandsworth 

27,753 

1 09,020 

50,764 

46 1 

Camberwell 

4,342 

28,574 

31,093 

54,667 

12-5. 

Rotherhithe 

886 

9,127 

8,678 

17,805 

20-0 

CasTRAL  Districts. 

Greenwich 

6.367 

50,639 

48,720 

99,365 

6-4 

St  Giles     . 

245 

25,832 

28,38i 

54,214 

221*2 

Lewisham  . 

17,224 

15,708 

19,127 

34,886 

2-0 

Strand 

174 

21,570 

22,890 

44,460 

255*5 

Total,  Sonth  Districts 

45,542 

291,964 

824,672 

616,635 

11-3 

Ilolbom     . 

196 

22,860 

28,761 

46,621 

237-8 

Glerkenweli 

380 

81,489 

33,289 

64,778 

170-4 

St  Luke     . 

220!  26,178 

27.877 

54,055 

245-7 

East  London 

153;  28,536 

22,870 

44,406  290*21 

West  London      . 

136!  14,604 

14,186 

28,790 

211*6 

London  City 
TotalfCentral  Districts 

434 
1,938 

27,149 

28,783,1  55,982 

128-8 
77-9 

Total,  for  all  London 

78,029 

1.106,558 

1,258,678 

2,362,256 

191,218 

202,038 

393,256 

3-0 

1 

But  a  better  idea  of  the  comparative  density  of  the  population  in  the  several  districts  of  London,  will 
be  obtained  by  reference  to  tho  subjoined  engraving. 


-  a 


H 

3  i 

it 
§1 


a  I 

i! 

M   a 


i 

0,    EL 


18  THE  GEE  AT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Farther,  to  put  the  matter  evea  more  lucidly  before  the  mind,  we  may  say  that  no  less 
than  169  people  die  each  day  in  the  metropolis,  and  that  a  babe  is  bom  within  its  boundaries 
nearly  every  five  minutes  throughout  the  year  !* 


§4. 
LONDON  FROM  DIFFERENT  POINTS  OP  VIEW. 

''  Considered  in  connection  with  the  insular  position  of  England  in  that  great  highway  of 
nations,  the  Atlantic,"  says  Sir  John  Hersohel,  **  it  is  a  fact  not  a  little  explanatory  of  the 
commercial  eminence  of  our  country,  that  London  occupies  very  nearly  the  centre  of  the  terres- 
trial hemisphere^ 

But  whether  the  merchant  fame  of  Great  Britain  be  due  to  its  geographical  good  luck, 
or  to  that  curious  commingling  of  races,  which  has  filled  an  Englishman's  veins  with  the  blood 
of  the  noblest  tribes  belonging  to  the  multiform  family  of  mankind — the  Celtic,  the  Roman, 
the  Saxon,  the  Scandinavian,  and  Norman — so  that  an  Englishman  is,  as  it  were,  an  ethno- 
logical compound  of  a  "Welshman,  an  Italian,  a  German,  Dane,  and  Frenchman — to  whichever 
cause  the  result  be  due,  it  is  certain  that  all  people  regard  the  British  Capital  as  the  largest 
and  busiest  human  hive  in  the  world. 

The  mere  name,  indeed,  of  London  caUs  up  in  the  mind — ^not  only  of  Londoners,  but  of 
country  folk  and  foreigners  as  well — a  thousand  varied  trains  of  thought.  Perhaps  the  first 
idea  tiiat  rises  in  association  with  it  is,  that  it  is  at  once  the  biggest  bazaar  and  the  richest 
bank  throughout  the  globe. 

Some  persons,  turning  to  the  west,  regard  London  as  a  city  of  palatial  thoroughfares, 
and  princely  club-houses  and  mansions,  and  adorned  with  parks,  and  bristling  with  countless 
steeples,  and  crowded  with  stately  asylums  for  the  indigent  and  afflicted. 

Others,  mindful  but  of  the  City,  see,  principally,  narrow  lanes  and  musty  counting- 
houses,  and  taU  factory  chimnies,  darkening  (till  lately)  the  air  with  their  black  clouds  of 
smoke ;  and  huge  blocks  of  warehouses,  with  doors  and  cranes  at  every  floor ;  and  docks 
crowded  with  shipping,  and  choked  with  goods ;  and  streets  whose  traffic  is  positively  deaf- 
ening in  the  stranger's  ear ;  and  bridges  and  broad  thoroughfares  blocked  with  the  dense  mass 
of  passing  vehicles. 

Others,  again,  looking  to  the  east,  and  to  the  purlieus  of  the  town,  are  struck  with  the 
appalling  wretchedness  of  the  people,  taking  special  notice  of  the  half-naked,  shoeless 
children  that  are  usually  seen  gambling  up  our  courts,  and  the  capless,  shaggy-headed 
women  that  loll  about  the  alleys  or  lanes,  with  their  bruised,  discoloured  features,  telling  of 
some  recent  violence ;  or  else  they  are  impressed  with  the  sight  of  the  drunken,  half-starved 
mobs  collected  round  the  glittering  bar  of  some  palatial  gin-shop,  with  the  foul-mouthed 
mothers  there  drugging  their  infants  with  the  drink. 

In  fine,  this  same  London  is  a  strange,  incongruous  chaos  of  the  most  astoimding  riches 
and  prodigious  poverty— of  feverish  ambition  and  apathetic  despair— of  the  brightest  charity 
and  the  darkest  crime ;  the  great  focus  of  human  emotion — the  scene,  as  we  have  said,  of 
countless  daily  struggles,  failures,  and  successes ;  where  the  very  best  and  the  very  worst 

*  The  returns  of  the  Registrar-General  as  to  the  number  of  births  and  deaths  occurring  in  London  daring 
the  year  1855,  are  as  follows  r-^ 

18M.-Birth.,  Mde.  f'm>ioU&,U,Ui. 

Females 41,592)  '     ' 

18o5.-De«(li.,  Male "'«««?  Total.  61, m 

Females 80,303)  * 


LONDON  FEOM  DIEEEEENT  POINTS  OF  VIEW.  19 

types  of  omlized  Bociety  are  found  to  preyailr— Trhere  there  are  more  houfies  and  more  honse- 
less — ^more  feasting  and  more  staryation — ^more  philanthropy  and  more  bitter  stony-hearted* 
nesa,  than  on  any  other  spot  in  the  world — and  aU  grouped  around  the  one  giant  centre, 
whose  huge  dork  dome,  with  its  glittering  ball  of  gold,  is  seen  in  every  direction,  looming 
through  the  smokey  and  marking  out  the  Ci^ital,  no  matter  from  what  quarter  the  traveller 
may  come. 

"I  have  often  amused  myself,''  says  Dr.  Johnson,  "  with  thinking  how  different  a  place 
London  is  to  differ^t  people.  They  whose  narrow  minds  are  contracted  to  the  considera- 
tion  of  some  one  particular  pursuit,  view  it  only  through  that  medium.  A  politician 
thinks  of  it  cmly  as  the  seat  of  government  in  its  different  departments ;  a  grazier,  as  a  vast 
market  for  cattle ;  a  mercantile  man,  as  a  place  where  a  prodigious  deal  of  business  is  done 
upon  'Change ;  a  dramatic  entiiusiast,  as  the  grand  scene  of  theatrical  entertainments ;  a 
man  of  pleasure,  as  an  assemblage  of  taverns.  •  *  *  *  •  Bnt  the  intellectual  man  is 
strode  with  it  as  comprehending  the  whole  of  human  life  in  its  variety,  the  contemplation  of 
which  is  inexhaustible." 

Of  the  first  impressions  of  London,  those  who  drew  their  infant  breath  within  its  smoky 
atmosphere  are,  of  course,  utterly  unconscious ;  and,  perhaps,  there  is  no  dass  of  people  who 
have  so  dull  a  sense  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  great  town  in  which  they  live,  and  none  who 
have  80  little  attachment  to  their  native  place  as  Londoners  themselves. 

The  Swiss,  it  is  well  known,  have  almost  a  woman's  love  for  the  mountains  amid 
which  they  were  reared;  indeed  so  fervent  is  the  affection  of  the  Helvetian  for  his  native 
hills,  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  prohibit  the  playing  of  the  ^^  Banz  des  Vaches"  in  tiie 
Swiss  regiments  of  the  French  army,  owing  to  the  number  of  desertions  it  occasioned.  The 
German,  too,  in  other  lands,  soon  becomes  afflicted  with,  what  in  tho  language  of  the  country 
is  termed,  "Seimweh** — ^that  peculiar  settled  melancholy  and  bodily  as  well  as  mental 
depression  which  results  from  a  continual  craving  to  return  to  his  ''  fEttherland." 

Indeed,  though  the  people  of  almost  every  other  place  throughout  the  globe  have,  more 
or  less,  a  strong  attachment  for  the  land  of  their  birth,  your  old-established  Londoner  is  so 
little  remarkable  for  the  quality,  that  it  becomes  positively  absurd  to  think  of  one  bom 
wiUnn  the  sound  of  Bow-bells  displaying  the  least  regard  for  his  native  paving-stones.  For 
whilst  the  scion  of  other  parts  yearns  to  get  back  to  the  haunts  of  his  childhood,  the 
Londoner  is  beset  with  an  incessant  desire  to  be  off  from  those  of  hi9.  All  the  year  through 
he  looks  forward  to  his  week's  or  month's  autumnal  holiday  abroad,  or  down  at  one  of  the 
fiishionable  English  watering-places ;  and  even  when  he  has  amassed  sufficient  means  to 
render  him  independent  of  the  Metropolis,  he  seldom  or  never  can  bring  himself  to  end  his 
days  in  some  suburban  "Paradise  Place,"  or  "Prospect  Bow,"  that  is  "within  half  an 
hour's  ride  of  the  Bank/'  and  (as  inviting  landladies  love  to  add)  "  with  omnibuses  passing 
the  door  every  five  minutes."  But  he  retires,  on  the  contrary,  to  one  of  the  pleasant  and 
sedaded  nooks  of  England,  or  else  to  some  economical  little  foreign  town,  where  he  can 
realize  tho  pleasures  of  cheap  claret  or  hock,  and  avoid  the  income-tax.  Hence  it  has  come 
to  be  a  saying  among  metropolitan  genealogists,  that  London  families  seldom  continue  settied 
in  the  Capital  for  three  generations  together — ^there  being  but  few  persons  bom  and  bred  in 
the  Metropolis  whose  great-grandfather  was  native  to  the  place. 

Formerly,  in  the  old  coaching  days,  tlie  entrance  into  London  was  a  sight  that  no  country 
in  the  world  could  parallel,  and  one  of  which  the  first  impression  was  well  calculated  to 
astound  the  foreigner,  who  had  been  accustomed  in  his  own  country  to  travel  along  roads 
that  were  about  as  loose  in  the  soil  and  as  furrowed  with  ruts  as  ploughed  fields,  and  in 
mailB,  too,  tiiat  were  a  kind  of  cross  between  a  fly-wagon  and  an  omnibus,  and  not  nearly  so 
tapid  as  hearses  wlien  returning  firom  a  frmcrali  and  with  the  horses  harnessed  to  tho 
2* 


ao  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

unsightly  vehiclo  with  traoes  of  rope,  and  a  huge-hooted  driver  continually  shouting  and 
Bwearing  at  the  team. 

The  entry  into  the  Metropolis,  on  the  contrary,  was  oyer  a  roadway  that  was  positively 
as  hard  as  steel  and  as  level  as  water,  and  upon  which  the  patter  of  the  horses  hoofs  rang 
with  an  almost  metallic  sound.  Then  the  coachman  was  often  an  English  gentleman,  and 
even  in  some  cases  a  person  of  rank,*  whilst  the  vehicle  itself  was  a  very  model  of  lightness 
and  elegance.  The  horses,  too,  were  such  thorough-bred  animals  as  England  alone  oould 
produce,  and  their  entire  leathern  trappings  as  brightly  polished  as  a  dandy's  boots. 

In  those  days,  even  London  people  themselves  were  so  delighted  with  the  sight  of  the 
mails  and  fast  coaches  leaving  the  Metropolis  at  night,  that  there  was  a  large  crowd 
invariably  congregated  around  the  Angel  at  Islington,  the  White  Horse  Cellar,  Piccadilly, 
and  the  Elephant  and  Castle  across  the  water,  at  eight  every  evening,  to  see  the  royal  stages 
start  into  the  country  by  their  different  routes.  On  the  King's  birthday,  too,  the  scene  at 
those  inns  was  assuredly  as  picturesque  as  it  was  entirely  national.  The  exterior  of  the 
taverns  was  studded  over  with  lights  of  many  colours,  arranged  in  tasty  luminous  lines,  the 
sleek-coated  blood  horses  were  all  newly  harnessed,  and  the  bright  brass  ornaments  on  their 
trappings  glittered  again  in  the  glace  of  the  iUumiifation.  The  coachmen  and  guards  were 
in  unsullied  scarlet  coats  worn  for  the  first  time  that  day ;  and  there  were  gay  rosettes  of 
ribbon  and  bunches  of  flowers  at  each  of  the  horse's  heads  as  well  as  in  eac^  coachman's 
button-hole ;  while  the  freshly  painted  mails  were  packed  so  thickly  in  front  of  the  tavern- 
door,  that  the  teams  were  all  of  a  heap  there ;  and  the  air  kept  on  continually  resounding 
with  the  tinny  twang  of  the  post  horns  of  the  newly  arriving  or  departing  vehicles. 

%  i.  The  Entry  into  London  hy  '' BaUJ' 

We  are  not  among  those  who  regret  the  change  in  the  mode  of  travelling,  and  we  allude  to 
the  old  mail-coaches  here  simply  as  having  been  especially  characteristic  of  the  country  and 
the  Capital.  Kow  that  all  the  world,  however,  travels  by  rail,  there  is  but  little  peculiar  in 
the  style  by  which  the  entry  into  London  is  made,  to  impress  the  mind  of  strangers.  Never- 
theless, as  the  trains  dart  through  the  different  suburbs,  the  eye  must  be  dull  indeed  that 
is  not  struck  with  the  strange  sights  seen  by  the  way,  even  though  the  journey  be  performed 
among  the  house-tops  of  the  metropolitan  outskirts. 

What  an  odd  notion  the  stranger  must  acquire  of  the  Metropolis,  as  he  enters  it  by  the 
South- Western  Eailway !  How  curious  is  the  flash  of  the  passing  Yauxhall  Gbrdens^ 
dreary  with  their  big  black  trees,  and  the  huge  theatrical-looking  summer-house,  built  for 
the  orchestra  and  half-tumbling  to  decay ;  and  the  momentary  glimpse  of  the  Tartarus-like 
gas-works,  with  their  tall  minaret  chimneys,  and  the  red  mouth  of  some  open  retort  there 
glowing  like  the  crater  of  a  burning  volcano ;  and  the  sudden  whisking  by  of  the  Lambeth 
potteries,  with  their  show  of  sample  chimney-pots,  and  earthen  pans,  and  tubing,  ranged 
along  the  walls ;  and,  the  minute  afterwards,  the  glance  at  the  black  rack-like  sheds,  spotted 
aU  over  with  the  snowy  ends  of  lumps  of  whiting,  thrust  at  intervals  through  the  aper- 
tures ;  and  then  the  sickening  stench  of  the  bone-boilers,  leaking  in  through  every  crevice 
of  the  carriage ;  and  the  dreary-looking  attics  of  the  houses  as  the  roofs  fly  past;  and,  lastly, 

*  Arifltooracy  patronized  the  ooach-box  an  driven  of  atagM.  Sir  Yincent  Cotton  drove  the  '*  Age," 
Brighton  ooach;  Mr.  Willon,  the  <*  Magnet;"  Sir  Thomas  TyrwhiU  Jones,  the  "Pearl;"  Mr.  Bliss,  the 
"  Maseppa ;"  and  Captain  Prohin,  the  *'  Beading ;"  all  being  renowned  for  their  whips  and  £ut  ooaohes,  and 
doing  their  10}  and  11  miles  per  hour.  There  were  also  the  "  Hirondelle,"  which  ran  between  Cheltenhapi 
and  Liyerpool,  133  miles  in  12|  hours;  the  "Owen  Glendower,"  between  Birmingham  and  Aberystwith,  a 
very  hilly  country,  at  the  rate  of  lOi  miles  per  honr ;  two  ooaohes,  the  "  Phenomenon"  and  the  "  Blue,"  ran 
between  London  and  Norwich  at  a  rate  of  12  miles  per  hour,  doing  112  miles  in  9}  hours;  the  "Quicksilver" 
and  the  "  Shrewsbury  Wonder  "  were  likewise  famous  fast  ooaohes ;  and  the  "  Manchester  Telegraph"  ran 
13  miles  per  hour,  including  stoppages.    ^Mie  Cnrriagta  of  Or$at  Britam,    By  J.  E.  Bradfield. 


LONDON  FROM  DIFFEKENT  POINTS  OF  VIEW.  21 

irhile  the  tram  stops  for  the  collection  of  the  tickets  on  the  high  yiaduct  oyer  the  Westminster 
Bridge  Soad,  the  protracted  peep  down  into  the  broad  street  above  which  the  carriages 
rest,  and  the  odd  bird's-eye  view  of  the  huge  linendrapers'  shop  there,  with  the  diminutive- 
looking  people,  and  cabs,  and  carts,  huirying  along  deep  down  in  the  roadway  under  the  ' 
train! 

Or,  if  the  visitor  enter  London  by  the  8outh-Eastem  line,  coming  from  Dover,  or 
Brighton,  the  scene  is  equally  distinctive.  No  sooner  does  the  train  near  London  than 
the  huge  g^iass  temple  of  the  Crystal  Palace  appears  glittering  in  the  light,  like  so  much  ice- 
work.  Then  stations  rush  rapidly  by,  tabletted  all  over  with  showy  advertiBing  boards  and 
bills  announcing  cheap  clothing,  or  cheap  tea,  or  bedding,  or  stationery,  or  razors,  and  the 
huge  letters  seeming  to  be  smudged  one  into  the  other  by  the  speed.  Then  as  the  knot  of 
neighbouring  lines  draw  together  like  so  many  converging  radii,  distant  trains  are  seen  at  all 
kinds  of  levels,  fitting  across  the'marshes  without  the  least  apparent  efifort,  and  with  a  doud 
of  white  steam  puffing  fitfolly  from  the  chimney  of  the  engine  at  the  head,  while  the  little 
wheels  of  the  carnages  are  observed  to  twinkle  again  with  their  rapid  twirling.  In  a  minute 
or  two  the  train  turns  the  angle  of  the  line,  and  then  through  what  a  bricken  wilderness  of 
roo&  it  seems  to  be  ploughing  its  way,  and  how  odd  the  people  look,  as  they  slide  swiftly  by, 
in  their  wretched  garrets  !  Next,  a  smell  of  tan  pervades  the  air ;  and  there  are  glimpses 
of  brown  hides  hanging  in  sheds  below.  Now,  the  church  of  St.  John,  Horsleydown,  shoots 
by  with  the  strange  stone  pillar  stuck  on  the  top  of  it,  in  Heu  of  a  steeple ;  and  immediately 
afterwards  the  tangle  of  railway  lines  becomes  more  and  more  intricate,  tbe  closer  the  train 
draws  to  tiie  terminus^  tiU  at  length  the  earth  appears  to  be  ribbed  over  witb  the  iron  bars  in 
every  direction,  and  the  lines  to  be  in  such  confusion  that  it  seems  a  miracle  how  the  engine 
can -find  its  way  among  the  many  fibres  of  the  iron  web. 

Nor,  if  the  visitor  come  by  the  London  and  North  Western  line  from  Liverpool  or  the 
great  manufacturing  districts,  are  the  sights  less  striking ;  for  here  the  train  plunges  with  a 
load  shriek  into  the  long,  dark  perforation  under  Primrose  Hill,  and  when  it  shoots  into  the 
light  again,  the  green  banks  are  seen  studded  with  Httle  villas,  ranged  two  and  two  beside 
the  road.  Then,  as  the  carriages  stop  outside  the  engine-house  for  the  collection  of  the 
tickets,  what  a  huiry-skurry  and  riot*  there  appears  to  be  among  the  passing  locomotives  ! 
Here  one  engine  pants  and  gasps,  as  it  begins  to  move,  as  if  it  were  positively  overcome  with 
the  exertion,  and  when  the  wheels  revise  to  bite  uppn  the  rail,  it  seems  to  chuckle  again 
half-savagely  at  its  own  failure,  as  they  slip  round  and  round.  Another  goes  tearing  by,  its 
shrill  whistle  screeching  like  a  mad  human  thing  the  while,  and  men  shoot  out  of  little 
sentry-boxes,  and  shoulder,  with  a  military  air,  furled-up  flags.  In  a  minute  or  two 
afterwards  the  train  moves  on  once  more,  and  the  carriages  go  rattling  along  the  bed,  as  it  were, 
of  some  dried- up  canal,  with  little  cottage  mansions  perched  on  the  top  of  the  slanting  railway 
wall,  and  great  iron  girders  over-head,  stretching  across  the  bricken  channel  like  the  rafters 
of  a  loft 

But  the  most  peculiar  and  distinctive  of  all  the  entries  to  the  Great  Metropolis  is  the 
one  by  the  river ;  for,  assuredly,  tbere  is  no  scene  that  impresses  the  mind  with  so  lively  a 
rnnge  of  die  wealth  and  commercial  energy  of  tbe  British  Capital  as  the  view  of  the  far-famed 
Port  of  London. 

f  ii.  The  Fort  of  London. 

Seen  from  the  Custom  House,  this  is  indeed  a  characteristic  sight ;  and  some  time  since 
we  were  permitted,  by  the  courtesy  of  the  authorities,  to  witness  the  view  from  the  "long 
voom"  there. 

The  broad  highway  of  the  river — which  at  this  part  is  near  upon  300  yards  in  width — 
was  almost  blocked  with  the  tiers  of  shipping ;  for  there  was  merely  a  narrow  pathway  of 
grey,  glittering  water  left  open  in  the  middle ;  and,  on  either  «idc,  the  river  was  black  with 


22  THE  QBEAT  WOBLD  OF  LOOTWN. 

the  dense  mass  of  hulls  oolleoted  alongside  the  qnays ;  while  the  masts  of  the  orafi;  were  as 
thick  as  the  pine  stems  in  Iheir  native  forests. 

The  son  shone  bright  upon  the  water,  and  as  its  broken  beams  played  up<»i  the  sur&oe 
it  sparkled  and  twinkled  in  the  light,  like  a  crumpled  plate  of  golden  foil;  and  down  the 
''  silent  highway/'  barges,  tide-borne,  floated  sideways,  with  their  long  slim  oars  projecting 
fi:om  their  sides  like  the  fins  of  a  flying  flah;  whilst  others  went  along,  with  their  masts 
slanting  down  and  their  windlass  clicking  as  men  laboured  to  raise  the  '*  warm-brown  "  sail 
that  they  had  lowered  to  pass  under  the  bridge.  Then  came  a  raft  of  timber,  towed  by  a  small 
boat,  and  the  boatman  leaning  far  back  in  it  as  he  tugged  at  the  sculls ;  and  presently  a  rapid 
river  steamer  flitted  past,  the  deck  crowded  so  densely  with  passengers  that  it  reminded  one 
of  a  cushion  stuck  all  over  with  black  pins;  and  as  it  hurried  past  we  caught  a  whiff,  as  it 
were,  of  music  from  the  little  bend  on  board. 

The  large  square  blocks  of  warehouses  on  the  opposite  shore  were  almost  hidden  in  the 
shadow  which  came  slanting  down  fiEir  into  the  river,  and  covering,  as  with  a  thick  veil  of 
haze,  the  conned  knot  of  sloops  and  schooners  and  *'  bilanders"  that  lay  there  in  the  dusk, 
in  front  of  the  wharves.  Over  the  tops  of  the  warehouses  we  could  see  the  trail  of  white 
steam,  from  the  railway  ^igines  at  the  neighbouring  terminus,  darting  £rom  among  the  roofs 
as  they  hurried  to  and  fro. 

A  little  way  down  the  river,  stood  a  dump  of  Irish  vessels,  with  the  light  peeping 
through  the  thicket,  as  it  were,  of  their  masts — some  with  their  sails  hanging  aU  loose 
and  limp,  and  others  with  them  looped  in  rude  festoons  to  the  yards.  Beside  these  lay 
barges  stowed  fuU  of  barrels  of  beer  and  sacks  of  flour ;  and  a  few  yards  farther  on,  a  huge 
foreign  steamer  appeared,  with  short  thick  black  funnel  and  blue  paddle-boxes.  Then  came 
hoys  laden  with  straw  and  coasting  goods,  and  sunk  so  deep  in  the  water  that,  as  the 
steamers  dashed  by,  the  white  spray  was  seen  to  beat  against  the  dark  tarpauHns  that 
covered  their  heaped-up  cargoes.  Next  to  these  Ihe  black,  surly-looking  colliers  were  noted, 
huddled  in  a  dense  mass  together,  with  the  bare  backs  of  the  coalwhippers  flashing  among 
the  rigging  as,  in  hoisting  the  '*  Wallsend"  from  the  hold,  they  leaped  at  intervals  down 
upon  the  deck. 

Behind,  and  through  the  tangled  skeins  of  the  rigging,  the  eye  rested  upon  the  old 
Suf&ance  wharves,  witii  their  peaked  roofli  and  unwieldy  cranes ;  and  far  at  the  back  we 
caught  sight  of  one  solitary  tree ;  whilst  in  the  fog  of  the  extreme  distance  the  steeple  of  St. 
Mary's,  Eotherhithe,  loomed  over  the  mast-heads — grey,  dim,  and  spectral-like. 

Then,  as  we  turned  round  and  looked  towards  the  bridge,  we  caught  glimpses  of  barges 
and  boats  moving  in  the  broad  arcs  of  light  showing  through  the  arches ;  while  above  the 
bridge-parapet  were  seen  just  the  tops  of  moving  carts,  and  omnibuses,  and  high-loaded 
railway  wagons,  hurrying  along  in  opposite  directions. 

Glancing  thence  to  Ihe  bridge-wharves  on  the  same  side  of  the  river  as  ourselves,  we 
beheld  bales  of  goods  dangling  in  the  air  from  the  cranes  that  projected  from  this  top  of 
''  !Nichol8on.'s."  Here  alongside  the  quay  lay  Spanish  schooners  and  brigs,  laden  with  fruits ; 
and  as  we  cast  our  eye  below,  we  saw  puppet-like  figures  of*  men  wilh  cases  of  oranges 
on  their  backs,  bending  beneath  the  load,  on  their  way  across  the  dumb-lighter  to  the  wharf. 

Kext  came  Billingsgate,  and  here  we  could  see  the  white  bellies  of  the  fish  showing  in  the 
market  beneath,  and  streams  of  men  passing  backwards  and  forwards  to  the  river  side,  where 
lay  a  small  crowd  of  Butch  eel  boats,  with  their  gutta-percha-like  hulls,  and  unwieldy, 
green-tipped  rudders.  Immediately  beneath  us  was  the  brown,  gravelled  walk  of  the 
Custom  House  quay,  where  trim  children  strolled  with  their  nursemaids,  and  hatless  and 
yellow-legged  Blue-coat  Boys,  and  there  were  youths  fresh  from  school,  who  had  come 
either  to  have  a  peep  at  the  ^pping,  or  to  skip  and  play  among  the  barges. 

From  the  neighbouring  stairs  boats  pushed  off  continually,  while  men  standing  in  the 
stem  wri^led  themselves  along  by  working  a  scuU  behind,  after  the  fashion  of  a  fish's  tail. 


LONDON  FROM  DUTEEENT  POINTS  OF  VIEW.  23 

Here,  near  tho  front  of  the  quay,  lay  a  tier  of  huge  steamers  with  gilt  stems  and 
mahogany  wheels,  and  their  bright  brass  binnacles  shining  as  if  on  fire  in  the  sun.  At  tho 
foremast  head  of  one  of  these  tho  ''blue  Peter"  was  flying  as  a  summons  to  the  hands  on 
shore  to  come  aboard,  while  the  dense  clouds  of  smoke  that  poured  from  the  thick  red  funnel 
told  that  the  boiler  fires  were  ready  lighted  for  starting. 

Further  on,  might  be  seen  the  old  "  Pei-seus,"  the  receiving-ship  of  tho  navy,  with  her 
topmasts  down,  her  black  sides  towering  high,  like  immense  rampart- walls,  out  of  the  water, 
and  her  long  white  ventilatmg  sacks  hanging  over  the  hatchways.  Immediately  beyond 
thisy  the  eye  could  trace  the  Tower  wharves,  with  their  graveUed  walks,  and  the  high- 
capped  and  red-coated  sentry  pacing  up  and  down  them,  and  the  square  old  grey  lump 
of  the  Tower,  with  a  turret  at  each  of  its  four  corners,  peering  over  the  water,  in 
front  of  this  lay  another  dense  crowd  of  foreign  vessels,  and  with  huge  lighters  beside  the 
wharf,  while  bales  of  hemp  and  crates  of  hardware  swung  from  the  cranes  as  they  were 
lowered  into  the  craft;  below. 

In  the- distance,  towered  the  huge  massive  warehouses  of  St.  Katherine's  Dock,  with, 
their  big  signet  letters  on  their  sides,  their  many  prison-like  windows,  and  their  cranes 
and  doors  to  every  floor.  Beyond  this,  the  view  was  barred  out  by  the  dense  grove  of 
masts  that  rose  up  from  the  water,  thick  as  giant  reeds  beside  the  shore,  and  filmed 
over  with  the  gray  mist  of  vapour  rising  from  the  river  so  that  their  softened  outlines 
melted  gently  into  the  dusk. 

As  we  stood  looking  down  upon  the  river,  the  hundred  clocks  of  ike  hundred  churches 
at  our  back,  with  the  golden  figures  on  their  black  dials  shining  in  the  sun,  chimed  the  hour 
of  noon,  and  in  a  hundred  different  tones ;  while  solemnly  above  all  boomed  forth  the  deep 
mctallio  moan  of  St.  Paul's ;  and  scarcely  had  tho  great  bell  ceased  humming  in  the  air, 
before  there  rose  the  sharp  tinkling  of  eight  bells  from  the  decks  of  the  multitude  of  sailing 
vessels  and  steamers  packed  below. 

Indeed,  there  was  an  exquisite  charm  in  the  many  different  sounds  that  smote  the  ear 
fit)m  tiie  busy  Port  of  London.  Now  we  could  hear  the  ringing  of  the  "purlman's"  bell, 
as,  in  his  little  boat,  he  flitted  in  and  out  among  the  several  tiers  of  colliers  to  serve  the 
grimy  and  half-naked  coalwhippers  with  drink.  Then  would  come  the  rattle  of  some  heavy 
chain  suddenly  let  go,  and  after  this  the  chorus  of  many  seamen  heaving  at  the  ropes ;  whilst, 
high  above  all  roared  the  hoarse  voice  of  some  one  on  the  shore,  bawling  through  his  hands 
to  a  mate  aboard  the  craft.  Presently  came  the  clicking  of  the  capstan-palls,  telling  of 
the  heaving  of  a  neighbouring  anchor;  and  mingling  with  cdl  this  might  be  heard  the 
rumbling  of  the  wagons  and  carts  in  the  streets  behind,  and  the  panting  and  throbbing  of 
the  passing  river  steamers  in  front,  together  with  tho  shrill  scream  of  the  railway  whistle 
from  the  terminus  on  the  opposite  shore. 

In  fine,  look  or  listen  in  whatever  direction  we  might,  the  many  sights  and  sounds  that 
filled  the  eye  and  ear  told  each  its  different  tale  of  busy  trade,  bold  enterprise,  and  bound- 
less capital.  In  the  many  bright-coloured  flags  that  fluttered  from  the  mastheads  of  the 
vessels  crowding  the  port,  we*could  read  how  all  the  comers  of  the  earth  had  been  ransacked 
each  for  its  peculiar  produce.  The  massive  warehouses  at  the  water-side  looked  retdfy  like 
the  storehouses  of  the  world's  infinite  products,  and  the  tall  mast-like  factory  chimnies 
behind  ns,  with  their  black  plumes  of  smoke  streaming  firom  them,  told  us  how  all  around 
that  port  were  hard  at  work  fashioning  the  products  into  cunning  fabrics. 

Then,  as  we  beheld  the  white  clouds  of  steam  from  some  passing  railway  engine  puffed 
out  once  more  from  among  the  opposite  roofs,  and  heard  the  clatter  of  the  thousand  vehicles 
in  ihe  streets  hard  by,  and  watched  the  dark  tide  of  carts  and  wagons  pouring  over  the 
bridge,  and  looked  down  the  apparently  endless  vista  of  masts  that  crowded  either  side  of 
the  river — we  could  not  hdp  feeling  how  every  power  known  to  man  was  here  used  to  bring 
and  difiose  the  riches  of  all  parts  of  the  world  over  our  own,  and  indeed  every  other  country. 


24  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LO]S"DON. 

%  iii.  London  from  the  Top  of  8t  Paul's. 

There  is,  howeyer,  one  other  grand  point  of  riew  from  which  the  Metropolis  may  be 
contemplated,  and  which  is  not  only  extremely  characteristic  of  the  Capital,  but  so  popular 
among  strangers,  that  each  new  comer  generally  hastens,  as  soon  as  possible  after  his  arriyal 
in  London,  to  the  Golden  Gallery  to  see  the  giant  city  spread  out  at  his  feet.  Hence,  this 
introduction  to  the  Great  World  of  London  would  be  imcomplete  if  we  omitted  from  our 
general  survey  to  describe  the  pecidiarities  of  the  scene  from  that  point. 

It  was  an  exquisitely  bright  and  clear  winter's  morning  on  the  day  we  mounted  the  five 
hundred  and  odd  steps  that  lead  to  the  gallery  below  the  ball  and  cross  crowning  the  cathe- 
drfl — ^and  yet  the  view  was  all  smudgy  and  smeared  with  smoke.  Still  the  haze,  which  hung 
like  a  thick  curtain  of  shadow  before  and  oyer  everything,  increased  rather  than  diminished 
the  monster  sublimity  of  the  city  stretched  out  beneath  us.  It  was  utterly  unlike  London 
as  seen  below  in  its  every-day  bricken  and  hard-featured  reality,  seeming  to  be  the  spectral 
illusion  of  the  Great  Metropolis — such  as  one  might  imagine  it  in  a  dream — or  the  view  of 
some  fanciful  cloud-land,  rather  than  the  most  matter-of-fact  and  prosaic  city  in  the  world. 

In  the  extreme  distance  the  faint  colourless  hills,  "  picked  out"  with  little  bright  patches 
of  sunshine,  appeared  like  some  far-off  shore — or  rather  as  a  mirage  seen  in  the  sky — for  they 
were  cut  off  from  the  nearer  objects  by  the  thick  ring  of  fog  that  bathed  the  more  distant 
buildings  in  impenetrable  dusk.  Clumps  of  houses  and  snatches  of  parks  loomed  hero 
and  there  through  the  vapour,  like  distant  islands  rising  out  of  a  sea  of  smoke ;  and  isolated 
patches  of  palatial  hospitals,  or  public  buildings,  shone  in  the  accidental  lights,  as  if  they 
were  miniature  models  sculptured  out  of  white  marble. 

And  yet  dim  and  imsatisfactory  asatfirst  the  view  appeared,  one  would  hardly  on  reflec- 
tion have  had  it  otherwise;  since,  to  behold  the  Metropolis  without  its  characteristic  canopy 
of  smoke,  but  with  its  thousand  steeples  standing  out  against  the  clear  blue  sky,  sharp  and 
definite  in  their  outlines,  as  ''  cut  pieces  "  in  some  theatrical  scene,  is  to  see  London  unlike 
itself — ^London  without  its  native  element.  Assuredly,  as  the  vast  Capital  lay  beneath  us, 
half  hidden  in  mist,  and  with  only  a  glimpse  of  its  greatness  visible,  it  had  a  much  more 
sublime  effect  from  the  very  inability  of  the  mind  to  grasp  the  whole  in  all  its  liteial 
details. 

Still,  there  was  quite  enough  visible  to  teach  one  that  there  was  no  such  other  city  in 
the  world.  Immediately  at  our  feet  were  the  busy  streets,  like  deep  fissures  in  the  earth, 
or  as  if  the  great  bricken  mass  had  split  and  cracked  in  all  directions ;  and  these  were 
positively  black  at  the  bottom  with,  the  tiny-looking  living  crowd  of  vehicles  and  people 
pouring  along  the  thoroughfares.  What  a  dense  dark  flood  of  restless  enterprise  and 
competition  it  seemed !  And  there  rose  to  the  ear  the  same  roar  frt>m  it,  as  rises  from 
the  sea  at  a  distance. 

The  pavements,  directly  underneath  us,  were  darkened  on  either  side  of  the  roadway 
with  dense  streams  of  busy  little  men,  that  looked  almost  like  ants,  hurrying  along  in 
opposite  directions;  whilst  what  with  the  closely-packed  throng  of  carts,  cabs,  and  omnibuses, 
the  earth  seemed  all  alive  with  tiny  creeping  things,  as  when  one  looks  into  the  grass  on  a 
warm  summer's  day. 

To  peep  down  into  the  trough  of  Ludgate  HiU  was  a  sight  that  London  alone  could  show ; 
for  the  tops  of  the  vehicles  looked  so  compact  below  that  they  reminded  one  of  the  illustra- 
tions .of  the  *'  testudo,*'  or  tortoise-like  floor,  formed  by  the  up-raised  shields  of  the  Eoman 
soldiers,  and  on  which,  we  are  told,  people  might  walk.  Here  were  long  lines  of  omnibuses, 
no  bigger  than  children's  tin  toys,  and  crowded  with  pigmies  on  the  roof — and  tiny  Hansom 
cabs,  with  doll-like  drivers  perched  at  the  back — ^and  the  flat  black  and  shiny  roofs  of 
miniature-like  Broughams  and  private  carriages — ^and  brewers'  drays,  with  the  round  backs 
.of  the  stalwart  team,  looking  like  plump  mice,  and  with  their  load  of  beej  butts  appearing 


LOlTDOir  TBOH  DIFFERENT  POINTS  OP  VIEW.  27 

no  bigger  ttum  oyster-benelcH-and  black  looking  ooal-wagons,  thai,  as  yoa  gazed  down 
into  them,  seemed  more  like  eotil'haxes — and  top-heavy-like  railway  yans,  with  their  little 
bales  of  cotton  piled  high  in  the  air — and  the  wholesale  linen-drapers'  ngly  attempts  at 
phstons — and  the  butchers'  carts,  with  little  blue-smocked  men  in  them — ^indeed  every  kind 
of  London  conveyance  Vas  there,  all  jammed  into  one  dense  throng,  and  so  compactly,  too, 
that  one  might  easily  have  run  along  the  tops  of  the  various  vehicles. 

Then  how  strange  it  was  to  watch  the  lino  of  conveyances  move  on,  altogether,  for 
a  few  paces,  as  if  they  were  each  part  of  one  long  railway  train ;  and  then  suddenly  oome, 
every  one,  to  a  dead  halt,  as  the  counter  stream  of  conveyances  at  the  bottom  of  the  hiU 
was  seen  to  force  its  way  across  the  road. 

As  we  turned  now  to  note  the  other  points  of  the  surrounding  scene,  what  a  forest  of 
chureh-steeples  was  seen  to  bristle  around  the  huge  dome  on  the  top  of  which  we  were 
standing !  The  sight  reminded  one  of  the  fiust,  that  before  the  Great  Fire  there  was  a  church 
to  every  three  acres  of  ground  within  the  City  waUs ;  for  there  were  the  spires  still  ranged 
close  as  nine-pins,  and  impressing  one  with  a  sense  that  every  new  street  or  public  building 
must  knock  a  number  of  them  down,  as  if  they  reaUy  were  so  many  stone  skittles ;  for,  as 
we  peered  into  the  fog  of  smoke,  we  could  make  out  others  in  the  misty  back-ground,  whose 
towers  seemed  suspended,  like  Mahomet's  cofiSn,  midway  between  heaven  and  earth,  as  if 
poised  in  the  thick  grey  air ;  whilst,  amid  the  steeple  crowd,  we  could  distinguish  the 
toll  column  of  the  Monument,  with  its  golden  crown  of  flames  at  the  top,  and  surrounded  by 
a  host  of  fiictory-chimneys  that  reminded  one  of  the  remaining  pillars  of  the  ruined  temple 
of  Serapis ;  so  that  it  would  have  puzzled  a  simple  foreigner  to  tell  whether  the  City  of 
London  were  more  remarkable  for  its  manufactures  or  its  piety. 

Then  what  a  charm  the  mind  experienced  in  recognizing  the  different  places  and  objects 
that  it  knew  under  a  wholly  different  aspect ! 

Tender  flows  the  Thames,  circling  half  round  the  vast  bricken  mass  that  we  call 
Lambeth  and  Bouthwark.  It  is  a  perfect  arc  of  water ;  and  the  many  bridges  spanning  it, 
like  girders,  seem  to  link  the  opposite  shores  of  London  into  one  Metropolis,  like  the 
mysterious  ligament  that  joined  the  two  Siamese  into  one  life.  Then  ihre  stands  the 
Exchange,  hardly  bigger  than  a  twelfkh-cake  ornament,  and  with  the  equestrian  statue  of 
Wellington,  in  firont  of  it,  smaller  than  the  bronze  horse  surmounting  some  library  time* 
piece;  and  ihere  Ihe  Post-office,  dwindled  down  to  the  dimensions  of  an  architectural  model. 
That  low,  square,  flat-roofed  building  is  the  dumpy  little  Bank  of  England;  and  thai  ring 
of  houses  is  Finsbury  Circus ;  it  looks  ttom  the  elevation  like  the  bricken  mouth  of  a 
well. 

Thu,  we  mentally  exclaim,  as  we  continue  our  walk  round  the  gallery,  is  the  Old  Bailey, 
with  the  big  cowl  to  its  roof;  and  close  beside  it  are  the  high  and  spiked  walls  of  Newgate 
prison ;  we  can  see  half  down  into  the  exercising  wards  of  the  felons  from  where  we  stand. 
And  iMs  open  space  is  Smithfleld.  How  desolate  it  looks  now,  stript  of  its  market,  and  with 
}j»  empty  sheep-pens,  Ihat  seem  fit)m  the  height  to  cover  the  ground  like  a  grating !  The 
dingy  domed,  solitary  building  beyond  it,  that  appears,  up  here,  like  a  '*  round-house,"  is  the 
Sessbns  House,  Clerkenwell ;  and  th^ef  amidst  the  haze,  we  can  just  distinguish  another 
dome,  almost  the  feUow  of  the  one  we  are  standing  upon ;  it's  the  London  University. 

Next,  glancing  towards  the  river  once  more,  we  see,  where  the  mist  has  cleared  a  bit,  the 
shadowy  form  of  the  Houses  of  Parliament,  with  their  half-finished  towers;  from  the  distance 
it  has  the  appearance  of  some  tiny  Parian  toy.  But  the  Nelson  and  the  Tork  Columns  are 
lost  to  us  in  the  haze;  so,  too,  is  the  Palace ;  and  yet  we  can  see  the  Hills  of  Highgate  and 
Smey ;  ay,  and  even  the  Crystal  Palace,  shimmering  yonder  like  a  bubble  in  the  light. 

So  dense,  however,  is  the  pall  of  smoke  about  the  City,  that  beyond  London  Bridge 
nothing  is  to  be  traced — ^neither  the  Tower,  nor  the  Docks,  nor  the  India  House— and  the 
outlines  even  of  the  neighbouring  streets  and  turrets  are  blurred  with  the  thick  haze  of 


28  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

the  fames,  into  half-Bpectral  indistinctnfiss.     Though,  were  it  othenrise,  it  would  not,  we 
repeat,  be  a  true  picture  of  London. 


§5. 
THE  CONTRASTS    OF  LONDON. 


It  will,  doubtlessly,  have  been  noticed  that,  in  speaking  of  London  generally,  it  has  been 
our  wont  here  to  use  certain  antithetical  phrases,  such  as  **  wealth  and  want,''  *'  charity  and 
crime,"  "  palaces  and  workhouses,"  &c.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed  that  we  have 
done  this  as  a  mere  rhetorical  flourish,  for  none  can  object  to  such  piebald  painting  more 
than  we.  The  mind's  eye  must  be  dim,  indeed,  that  requires  things  to  be  put  in  the  strong 
contrast  of  black  and  white  before  it  can  distinguish  their  peculiarities ;  and  as  the  educated 
organ  of  the  artist  gets  to  prefer  the  sober  browns  and  delicate  neutral  tints  to  the  glare  of 
positive  colour,  so  long  literary  cidture  teaches  one  to  despise  those  mere  verbal  trickeries  which 
are  termed  ''  flowers  of  speech,"  and  in  which  a  showy  arrangement  of  phrases  is  used  as  a 
doak  for  a  beggarly  array  of  ideas. 

But  London  is  essentially  a  city  of  antithesis — ^a  city  where  life  itself  is  painted  in  pure 
black  and  white,  and  where  the  very  extremes  of  society  are  seen  in  greater  force  than  any- 
where else.  This  constitutes,  as  it  were,  the  topographical  essence  of  the  Great  Metropolis— 
the  salient  point  of  its  character  as  a  Capital — ^the  distinctive  mark  which  isolates  it  from  all 
other  towns  and  cities  in  the  world ;  for  though  the  middle  class  and  the  meditun  forms  of 
civilized  life  prevail  in  the  Metropolis  to  an  unparalleled  extent,  this  does  not  constitute  its  civic 
idiosyncracy ;  but  it  is  simply  the  immensity  of  the  commerce  which  springs  from  this  same 
unparalleled  prevalence  of  merchant  people  in  London,  and  the  consequent  vastness  of  its 
wealth,  as  well  as  the  unprecedented  multitude  of  individuals  attracted  by  such  wealth  to 
the  spot,  that  forms  the  most  prominent  feature  in  every  one's  ideal  picture  of  the  town. 

Then,  again,  it  is  owing  partiy  to  the  excessive  riches  of  London  that  its  poverty  appears 
to  be  in  excess  also — ^not  that  there  reaRjf  is,  perhaps,  a  greater  proportion  of  misery  to  be 
found  within  the  metropolitan  boundaries  than  within  other  large  cities;  but  as  London  is  the 
larffsst  of  all  cities,  there  is  naturally  the  greatest  amount  of  human  wretchedness  to  be  seen 
concentrated  within  it ;  wretchedness,  too,  that  is  made  to  look  still  more  wretched  simply 
from  the  &ct  of  its  being  associated  with  the  most  abundant  comfort  in  the  world. 

Moreover,  from  the  immense  mass  of  houses,  the  mind  is  positively  startied  at  the  idea 
of  there  being  any  hatueless  in  the  Capital ;  and  so,  too,  from  the  enormous  consimiption  of 
food  by  the  a^^gate  population,  as  well  as  the  sumptuousness  of  the  civic  banquets,  the 
anomaly  of  there  being  any  famishing  within  it,  becomes  deeply  impressed  upon  tiie  mind ; 
while  the  exceeding  charity  of  the  Metropolis,  where  many  of  the  asylums,  for  the  humblest 
even  rival  in  architectural  grandeur  the  dwelling-places  of  the  proudest  in  the  land,  naturally, 
gives  a  deeper  dye,  fr*om  the  mere  contrast,  to  the  criminality  of  the  London  people— whose 
pickpockets,  it  must  be  confessed,  are  among  the  most  expert,  and  whose  ''dangerous  classes" 
are  certainly  the  most  brutally  ignorant  in  all  Christendom. 

For  these  reasons,  therefore,  we  shall  now  proceed  to  set  forth  some  of  the  principal 
social  and  moral  contrasts  to  be  noted  in  London  town. 

^1.  Of  the  Riches  and  Pweriy  ofLofidon. 

Country  people  have  a  saying  that  the  streets  of  London  are  paved  with  gold,  and 
certainly,  when  we  come  to  consider  the  aggregate  wealth  of  the  Metropoli.4,  it  amounts  to  so 
enormous  a  sum  as  to  admit  almost  of  the  bidlion  being  spread  over  the  entiie  surface  of  the 
1,750  miles  of  paving  that  make  up  the  London  thoroughfares. 

In  the  first  place,  it  has  been  already  stated  that  the  raring  of  the  streets  themsdves 


THE  CONTRASTS  OF  LONDON.  29 

oosto  no  lees  than  £14,000,000 ;  bo  that  when  we  come  to  learn  that  the  expense  of  con- 
stmcting  the  Metropolitan  roadways  amounts,  upon  an  average,  to  £8,000  a  mile,  the  very 
stones  of  ihe  streets  seem  almost  to  he  nuggets  of  gold. 

Again,  the  treasures  huried  heneath  the  soil  are  equally  inconoeivable ;  for  there  are  no 
less  than  1,900  miles  oi  gas-pipes  laid  under  these  same  London  stones,  and  about  the  same 
length  of  water-pipes  as  well ;  so  that  these,  at  only  a  shilling  a  foot  each,  would  cost  nearly 
half  a  million  of  money.  Further,  there  are  the  subterranean  tunnels  of  the  sewers — the 
bricken  bowels,  as  it  were,  of  the  Capital — of  which  there  are  also  some  hundreds  of  miles 
fltietching  through  London  beneath  the  pavement. 

Hence  we  find  that  there  is  a  vast  amount  of  wealth  sunk  both  «pi  and  under  the  London 
roadways,  and  that  upon  every  square  yard  of  earth,  trodden  under  the  feet  of  the  people, 
there  has  been  an  enormous  sum  expended. 

The  amount  of  money  spent,  and  the  vastness  of  apparatus  employed,  simply  in  lighting 
London  and  the  suburbs  with  .gas,  would  seem  to  dispel  all  thoughts  of  poverty ;  for, 
according  to  the  account  of  Mr.  Barlow,  the  capital  employed  in  the  pipes,  tanks,  gas-holders, 
and  apparatus  of  the  aggregate  London  gas-works,  amounts  to  between  £3,000,000  and 
£4,000,000 ;  and  the  cost  of  lighting  averages  more  than  half  a  million  of  money  per  annum 
— ^there  being  no  less  than  360,000  gas-lights  fringing  the  streets,  and  consuming  as  much 
as  13,000,000  cubic  feet  of  gas  every  night. 

Those  who  have  seen  London  only  in  the  day-time,  with  its  flood  of  life  pouring  through 
the  arteries  to  its  restless  heart,  know  it  not  in  a//  its  grandeur.  They  have  still,  in  order  to 
comprehend  the  multiform  sublimity  of  the  great  city,  to  contemplate  it  by  night,  a&r  off 
from  an  eminence.  As  noble  a  prospect  as  any  in  the  world,  it  has  been  well  said,  is 
London  viewed  from  the  suburbs  on  a  clear  winter's  evening.  Though  the  stars  be  shining 
in  the  heavens,  there  is  another  firmament  spread  out  below  with  its  millions  of  bright  lights 
^ttering  at  the  feet.  Liae  after  line  sparkles  like  the  trails  left  by  meteors,  and  cutting 
and  crossing  one  another  till  they  are  lost  in  the  haze  of  distance.  Over  the  whole,  too,  there 
hangs  a  lurid  doud,  bright  as  if  the  monster  city  were  in  flames,  and  looking  frt>m  afor  like 
the  sea  at  dusk,  made  phosphorescent  by  the  million  creatures  dwelling  within  it. 

Again,  at  night  it  is,  that  the  strange  anomalies  of  London  life  are  best  seen.  As 
the  hum  of  life  ceases,  and  the  shops  darken,  and  the  gaudy  gin  palaces  thrust  out  their 
ragged  and  squalid  crowds  to  pace  the  streets,  London  puts  on  its  most  solemn  look  of  all. 
On  the  benches  of  the  parks,  in  the  niches  of  the  bridges,  and  in  the  litter  of  the  markets, 
are  huddled  together  the  homeless  and  the  destitute.  The  only  living  things  that  haunt  the 
streets  are  the  poor  wretched  Magdalens,  who  stand  shivering  in  their  finery,  waiting  to 
catch  the  drunkard  as  he  goes  shouting  homewards.  There,  on  a  door-step,  crouches  some 
shoeless  child,  whose  day's  begging  has  not  brought  it  enough  to  purchase  even  the  pemiy 
njghf  s  lodging  that  his  young  companions  in  beggary  have  gone  to.  Where  the  stones  are 
taken  up  and  piled  high  in  the  road,  while  the  mains  are  beiog  mended,  and  the  gas  streams 
from  a  tall  pipe,  in  a  flag  of  flamis,  a  ragged  crowd  are  grouped  round  the  glowing  coke  Are 
— some  smoking,  and  others  dozing  beside  it. 

Then,  as  the  streets  grow  blue  with  the  coming  light,  and  the  church  spires  and  roof-tops 
stand  out  against  the  dear  sky  with  a  sharpness  of  outline  that  is  seen  only  in  London 
before  its  million  chimneys  cover  the  town  with  their  smoke — ^then  come  sauntering  forth 
the  unwashed  poor ;  some  with  greasy  wallets  on  their  backs  to  hunt  over  each  dust-heap, 
and  eke  out  life  by  seeking  refdse  bones,  or  stray  rags  and  pieces  of  old  iron ;  others,  whilst 
<m  their  way  to  their  work,  are  gathered  at  the  comer  of  some  street  round  the  early 
breakfost-stall,  and  blowing  saucers  of  steaming  cofEee,  drawn  frt>m  tall  tin  cans  that  have 
tiie  red-hot  charcoal  shining  crimson  through  the  holes  in  the  fire-pan  beneath  them ;  whilst 
illready  the  littie  slattern  girl,  with  her  basket  slung  before  her,  screams,  '*  W&t^'Creaset  P' 
ihnm^  the  sleeping  streets. 


80 


THE  GBEAT  WOELB  OP  LONIKMr. 


But  let  us  pass  to  a  more  cheering  subject — let  us,  in  the  exceeding  wealth  of  our  city, 
forget  for  the  moment  its  exceeding  miseiy.  "We  hare  already  shown  what  a  vast  amount  of 
treasure  is  buried,  as  we  said  before,  not  only  tn^  but  tmder  the  ground  of  London;  and  now 
we  win  proceed  to  portray  the  immense  value  of  the  buildings  raised  upon  it.  The  gross 
rental,  or  yearly  income  from  the  houses  in  the  metropolis,  as  assessed  to  the  property  and 
income  tax,  amounts  to  twshe  and  a  hdlfmiUiam  of  pounds^  so  that  at  ten  years'  purchase,  the 
aggregate  value  of  the  buildings  throughout  London,  will  amount  to  no  less  than  the  prodi- 
gious sum  of  one  hundred  and  tuoenty-five  mUUona  sterKng.* 

IXoT  is  this  all:  this  sum,  enormous  as  it  is,  expresses  the  value  of  the  houses  only ;  and 
in  order  to  understand  the  worth  also  of  the  fdmiture  that  they  contain,  we  must  consult 
the  returns  of  the  Assurance  Companies,  and  thus  we  shaU  find  that  the  gross  property 
insured  is  valued  at  more  than  one  hundred  and  eixty-eix  million  pounds.\ 

*  TABLE  SHEWING  TSB  ▲88B88KEKT  OF  PROPSBTT  TO  THE  IKCOliB  TAX  AMD  POOS  BATES  IN  THE  SEVBUAL 

DI8TBICTS  TBBOVOHOUT  LONDON. 


DiBtliets. 


West  Distsicts. 

Kensington     . 

Chelsea   . 

St  George,  Hanover 

Square 
Wesiminiiter  . 
St.  Martin   in   the 

Fields  . 
St.   James,    West 

minster 

Total    . 


Nobth  DisTBicrrs. 


Marylebone 
Hampstead 
Pancras{ 
IsUngton 
Hacknej  • 

ToUl 


CbntbalDutbiots 


St  Giles  . 
Strand    . 
Holbom  . 
ClerkenweU 
St.  Luke . 
East  London 
West  London 
London  City 

Total 


i 

as 

a 
S. 


17,161 
7^91 

8,792 
6,642 

2,307 
3,399 


45,882 


2,970,808 


ia,826 

1,719 

18,584 

13,528 

0,818 


59,475 


4,700 
8,962 
4,311 
7,224 
6,349 
4,7S9 
2,667 
7,297 


41,239 


876,854 
167,897 

1,009,572 
272,790 

226,852 

416,843 


1,132,824 
66,656 

1,251,737 
809,629 
170,347 


2,980,093 


305,880 
363,786 
261,665 
800,928 
193,443 
202,698 
266,278 
1,279,148 


3,158,736 


650,115 
166,998 

675,440 
228,200 

249,555 

412,823 


3,378,181 


836,372 
69,357 
672,731 
829,781 
196,073 


2,004^314 


232,129 
220,872 
51,206 
188,372 
141,658 
139,767 
124,640 
1,562,428 


2,760,972 


facS 

I 


£ 

ol'l 
221 

114-7 
41-0 

98-3 

122-6 


64-7 


721 
88-7 
67-3 
22-8 
17-3 


33-6 


65-0 
89*2 
60-6 
41-6 
80-4 
42-7 
96-4 
175-2 


I, 

•5 


£ 

37-7 
21-9 

76-8 
83-6 

108-0 

121-4 


r3-6 


52-8 
40-3 
30-8 
23  9 
14-8 

38-7 


76-4 


ItffttrioU. 


I 

ti 


East  Distbictb. 

Shoreditch 
Bethnal  Green 
Whitechapel    . 
St  George  in   the 

East  . 
Stepney  . 
Poplar     . 

Total    . 


South  Diarnicrs. 

St  Saviour,  South 

wark    • 
St  Olave,    ditto 
Bermondsey    . 
St  George,  South 

vark    . 
Newington 
Lambeth . 
Wandsworth  . 
Camberwell    . 
Rotherhitbe    . 
Greenwich 
Lewisham      . 

Total    . 


92,654 


49-3 
59-8 
11-9 
26*0 
22-8 
29-2 
46-8 
214-2 


93*6  ToUl  for  all  London  305,933 


15,337 

13,298 

8»812 

6,146 

16,259 

6,881 


66,683 


4,600 
2,360 
7,007 

6»992 

10,458 
20,447 
8,276 
9,412 
2,792 
14,888 
5,927 


£ 

325,846 
110,072 
209,192 

184,543 
289,093 
258,979 


Hi 


i 


1,386,725 


71,282 

94,281 

107,226 

153,830 
207,877 
684,372 
368,526 
208,338 
59,677 
290,634 
150,359 


2,246,261 


12,688,203 


£ 

215,694 
130,159 
177,719 

151,343 
279,461 
193,940 


9 

H 

as 
IS 


1,148,316 


122,166 

86,140 

127,667 

113,999 
165,900 
458,861 
231,476 
209,337 
58,909 
261,987 
159,283 


1,995,716 


£ 

21-2 

8-2 

28-7 

30-0 
18-3 
87-9 


20-7 


15-4 
39-9 
15-3 

22-0 
19-8 
26-1 
44-5 
22-1 

21-a 

20-1 
25-3 


242 


12287448 


41-1 


11 


&> 


< 


i 


14-0 

8-4 

201 

21-8 
17-1 
28-3 


17-2 


26-5 
36*5 
18-2 

16-3 
15-8 
22-4 
27-9 
•22^ 
21-0 
18-2 
26-8 


21-5 


40-1 


t  The  revenue  derived  fromtho  duty  paid  on  Insurances,  amounts  in  round  numbears  to  £250,000  for  the 
London  offices  only ;  and  this,  at  8s.  per  £100,  gives  upwards  of  £166,000,000  for  the  •ggregtte  value  of  th« 
London  Assurances,  though  only  Uoo-fiftht  of  the  houses  are  said  to  be  insured, 

X  The  reason  of  their  being  so  great  a  difference  between  the  assessmenU  for  the  income  tax  and  poor's 
rates  in  this  district,  is  because  the  Inns  of  Court  are  csUmatcd  in  the  ono  and  not  in  the  other. 


THE  CONTRASTS  OF  LONDON.  31 

If,  then,  the  value  of  the  hotuse  property  tiuroughout  the  Metiopolis  amoimts  to  so  inoom- 
prehensible  a  Bum,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  believe  that  any  man  among  us  i^ould  want  a  roof 
to  shelter  his  head  at  night. 

The  scenesy  however,  that  are  to  be  witnessed  in  the  winter  time  at  the  Sefiige  for  the 
Destitute,  in  Playhouse  Yard,  tell  a  very  different  tele ;  for  those  who  pay  a  visit  to  the 
spot,  as  we  did  some  few  winters  back,  will  find  a  large  crowd  of  houseless  poor  gathered 
about  the  asylum  at  dusk,  waiting  for  the  first  opening  of  the  doors,  and  with  their  blue, 
shoeless  feet,  ulcerous  with  the  cold,  fhnn  long  exposure  to  the  snow  and  ice  in  the  street, 
and  the  bleak,  stinging  wind  blowing  through  their  rags.  To  hear  the  cries  of  the  hungry, 
shivering  children,  and  the  wrangling  of  the  greedy  men  assembled  there  to  obtain  shelter 
for  the  night,  and  a  pound  of  dry  bread,  is  a  thing  to  haunt  one  for  life.  At  the  time  of  our 
visit  there  were  four  hundred  and  odd  creatures,  utterly  destitute,  collected  outside  the  door. 
Mothers  with  in^Gmts  at  their  breast — ^fathers  with  boys  clinging  to  their  side— the  Mend- 
less — the  penniless — ^the  shirtless — the  shoeless — ^breadless — homeless ;  in  a  word,  the  very 
poorest  of  this  the  very  richest  city  in  the  world. 

The  i^ecords  of  this  extraordinary  institution,  too,  teU  a  fearful  history.  There  is  a 
world  of  wisdom  and  misery  to  be  read  in  them.  The  poor  who  are  compelled  to  avail 
themselves  of  its  eleemosynary  shelter,  warmth,  and  food,  come  from  aU  nations.  Here 
are  destitute  Frenchmen,  Germans,  Italians,  Scotchmen,  Irishmen,  Africans,  Americans, 
Spaniards,  Portuguese,  Poles — ^besides  the  destitute  of  our  own  country ;  and  there  are 
artisans  belonging  to  all  trades  as  well— compositors,  carpenters,  tailors,  shoemakers, 
smiths,  seamen,  sweeps,  engineers,  watchmakers,  artists,  clerks  and  shopmen,  milHners 
and  gentlemen's  servants,  and  navvies,  and  surveyors — ^indeed  the  beggared  man  of  every 
craft  and  calling  whatsoever. 

The  misery  of  many  that  are  driven  to  seek  the  hospitality  of  such  asylums  is  assuredly 
of  their  own  making,  and  there  are  many  there,  too,  who  pursue  mendicancy  as  a  profession, 
preferring  the  precarious  gains  of  begging  to  the  regular  income  of  industry.  Many  who 
trade  upon  the  sympathy  of  those  who  desire  to  ease  the  sufferings  of  the  deserving  poor. 

But  with  these  there  also  are  mixed  not  a  few  whose  caUings  yield  a  subsistence  only  in 
Uie  summer  time — ^brickmakers,  agricultural  labourers,  garden  women,  and  the  like — ^whose 
means  of  subsistence  fails  them  at  the  very  season  when  the  elements  conspire  to  render  their 
necessities  more  uigent. 

The  poverty  indicated  by  the  journals  of  the  refuge  for  the  houseless,  is  quite  as  startling 
to  all  generous  natures  as  are  the  returns  of  the  house  property  of  London.  For  we  found — 
making  allowance,  too,  for  those  who  had  remained  more  than  one  night  in  the  establish- 
ment— ^that,  since  the  opening  of  the  asylum  in  1820,  as  many  as  1,141,588  homeless  indi- 
viduals had  received  shelter  within  the  walls ;  and  that  upwards  of  2|  millions  of  pounds, 
or  nearly  10,025  tons,  of  bread  hod  been  distributed  among  the  poor  wretches. 

I^  then,  we  are  proud  of  our  prodigious  riches,  surely  we  cannot  but  feel  humbled  at  our 
prodigious  poverty  also. 

Again,  we  turn  to  the  brighter  side  of  the  London  picture,  and  once  more  we  ourselves 
are  startled  with  the  army  of  figures,  marshalling  the  wondrous  wealth  of  this  Great 
Metropolis. 

The  late  Mr.  Bothschild  called  the  English  Metropolis,  in  1832,  the  bank  of  the  whole 
world:  ''I  mean,"  said  he,  "that  all  transactions  in  India  and  China,  in  Germany  and 
BoBsia,  are  guided  and  settled  here."  And  no  wonder  that  the  statement  should  be  made ; 
for  we  learn  that  the  amount  of  capital  at  the  command  of  the  entire  London  bankers 
may  be  estimated  at  ^ixty-fowr  miUians  of  pounds;*  and  that  the  deposits  or  sums  ready  to  be 

•  See  Uble  of  the  bill  curronoy  of  the  United  Kingdom  in  BonEeld'a  "  SUtialioal  Companion"  for  1854. 


82  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON- 

invesied  by  the  insurance  companies  may  be  taken  at  ten  million  pounds,  whilst  the  amount 
employed  in  discounts,  in  the  Metropolis  alone,  equals  the  inconceivable  sum  of  swenty- 
mght  miUian  pounds. 

Indeed,  it  is  asserted  upon  good  authority,  that  the  loans  of  one  London  house  only, 
exceeded,  in. the  year  1841,  thirty  millions  sterling,  which  is  upon  an  average  nearly  three 
millions  of  money  per  month ;  such  loans  occasionally  amounting  to  as  much  as  seven 
hundred  thousand  pounds  in  a  single  day. 

Rut  this  is  not  all.  In  London  there  exists  an  establishment  called  the  *'  clearing- 
house,'' whither  are  taken  the  checks  and  bills,  on  the  authority  of  which  a  great  part  of 
the  money  paid  and  received  by  bankers  is  made,  and  where  the  checks  and  bills  drawn  on 
one  banking-house  are  cancelled  by  those  which  it  holds  on  others.  In  the  appendix  to  the 
Second  Report  of  the  Parliamentary  Committee  on  Ranks  there  is  a  return  of  the  payments 
made  through  the  clearing-house  for  the  year  1839,  and  though  all  the  sums  under  £100 
were  omitted  in  the  statement,  the  total  was  upwards  of  954  million  pounds !  whilst  the 
annual  payments,  through  three  bankers  only,  exceeded  100  millions  sterling. 

^  Such  an  extent  of  commerce  is  not  only  imparalelled,  but  requires  as  great  faith  as  a 
miracle  to  enable  us  to  credit  it.  Nevertheless,  a  walk  to  the  several  docks  of  London — 
those  vast  emporia  of  the  riches  of  the  entire  world — will  enable  even  the  most  sceptical  to 
arrive  at  some  sense  of  the  magnitude  of  our  metropolitan  trade. 

These  docks,  indeed,  are  the  very  focus  of  the  wealth  of  our  merchant  princes.  The 
cranes  creak  again  with  the  mass  of  riches.  In  the  warehouses  are  stored  heaps  of  indigo 
and  dye  stuffs,  that  are,  as  it  were,  so  many  ingots  of  untold  gold.  Above  and  below  ground 
you  see  piles  upon  piles  of  treasure  that  the  eye  cannot  compass.  The  wealth  appears  as 
boundless  as  the  very  sea  it  has  traversed,  and  the  brain  aches  in  an  attempt  to  comprehend 
the  amount  of  riches  before,  above,  and  beneath  it.  There  are  acres  upon  acres  of  treasures 
— more  than  enough,  one  would  fancy,  to  enrich  the  people  of  the  whole  globe. 

As  you  pass  along  this  quay,  the  air  is  pungent  with  the  vast  stores  of  tobacco.  At  that 
it  overpowers  you  with  the  fumes  of  rum.  Then  you  are  nearly  sickened  with  the  stench 
of  hides  and  huge  bins  of  horns ;  and  shortly  afterwards,  the  atmosphere  is  fragrant  with 
coffee  and  spice.  Nearly  everywhere  you  see  stacks  of  cork,  or  else  yellow  bins  of  sulphur, 
or  lead-coloured  copper  ore.  As  you  enter  one  warehouse,  the  flooring  is  sticky,  as  if  it 
had  been  newly  tarred,  with  the  sugar  that  has  leaked  through  the  tiers  of  casks ;  and  as  you 
descend  into  the  dark  vaults,  you  see  long  lines  of  lights  hanging  from  the  black  arches,  and 
lamps  flitting  about  midway  in  the  air.  Here  you  sniff  the  fumes  of  the  wine — ^and  there 
are  acres  of  hogsheads  of  it — together  with  the  peculiar  fiingous  smell  of  dry-rot. 

Along  the  quay  you  see,  among  the  crowd,  men  with  their  faces  blue  with  indigo,  and 
gangers  with  their  long  brass  tipped  rules  dripping  with  spirit  fi^sh  fi^m  the  casks  they 
have  been  probing.  Then  will  come  a  group  of  flaxen-haired  sailors,  chattering  German ; 
and  next  a  black  seaman,  with  a  red- cotton  handkerchief  twisted  turban-like  round  his  head. 
Presently,  a  blue-smocked  butcher  pushes  through'the  throng,  with  fresh  meat  and  a  bunch 
of  cabbage  in  the  tray  on  his  shoulder ;  and  shortly  afterwards  comes  a  broad  straw-hatted 
mate,  carrying  green  parroquets  in  a  wooden  cage.  Here,  too,  you  ^nR  see  sitting  on  a  bench 
a  sorrowfcd-looking  woman,  with  new  bright  cooking-tins  at  her  feet,  telling  you  she  is 
some  emigrant  preparing  for  her  voyage. 

•  •  Then  the  jumble  of  sounds,  as  you  pass  along  the  dock  blends  in  anything  but  sweet 
concord.  The  sailors  are  singing  boisterous  nigger-songs  from  the  Yankee  ship  just  entering 
the  dock ;  the  cooper  is  hammering  at  the  casks  on  the  quay ;  the  chains  of  the  cranes,  loosed 
of  their  weight,  rattle  as  they  fly  up  again ;  the  ropes  splash  in  the  water ;  some  captain  shouts 
his  orders  through  his  hands ;  a  goat  bleats  from  a  ship  in  the  basin ;  and  empty  casks  roll 
along  the  stones  with  a  hollow  drum-like  sound.  Here  the  heavy-laden  ships  have  their 
gunwales  down  in  the  water,  far  below  the  quay,  and  you  descend  to  them  by  ladders, 


TICKET-OF-LEAVE  WES. 

(Fran  a  Pboto^niib  bj  ElutRrt  WstUu,  of  Itcgaal  StraM.) 


THE  CONTRA.STS  OF  lOMDON.  S5 

wbilst  in  anofiier  basin  the  oraft  stand  high  up  ont  of  the  dock,  so  that  their  gieen  copper- 
shoeting  is  almost  leyel  with  the  eye  of  the  passenger,  and  aboye  his  head  a  long  line  of 
bowsprits  stretch  far  over  the  qnay,  with  spars  and  planks  hanging  from  them  as  a  tern* 
porary  gangway  to  each  vessel. 

**  It  is  impossible/'  says  Mr.  M'Ctdloch,  ''  to  form  any  accurate  estimate  of  the  amoimt 
of  the  trade  of  the  Port  of  London.  But  if  we  include  the  produce  conveyed  into  and  from 
the  Porty  as  well  as  the  home  and  foreign  markets,  it  will  not,"  ho  tells  us,  '^be  ovenated 
at  the  prodigious  sum  of  strfy-Jhe  miUiom  iterUng  per  annum." 

Of  this  enormous  extent  of  commerce  the  Bocks  are  the  headquarters. 

But  if  the  incomprehensibility  of  this  wealth  rises  to  sublimity,  assuredly  the  want  that 
oo-ezists  with  it  is  equally  incomprehensible  and  equally  sublime. 

Pass  from  the  quay  and  warehouses  to  the  courts  and  alleys  that  surround  them,  and  the 
mind  is  as  bewildered  with  the  destitution  of  the  one  place  as  it  is  with  the  superabundance 
of  the  other.  Many  come  to  see  the  riches,  but  few  the  poverty  abounding  in  absolute 
masses  round  the  fkr-famed  Port  of  London. 

He,  therefore,  who  wishes  to  behold  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  and  least  known  scenes 
of  the  Metropolis,  should  wend  his  way  to  the  London  Dock  gates  at  half-past  seven  in  the 
morning.  There  he  will  see  congregated,  within  the  principal  entrance,  masses  of  men  of  all 
ranks,  looks,  and  natures.  Decayed  and  bankrupt  master  butchers  are  there,  and  broken- 
down  master  bakers,  publicans,  and  grocers,  and  old  soldiers,  sailors,  Polish  refugees,  quondam 
gentlemen,  discharged  lawyers'  clerks,  "suspended"  government  officials,  almsmen,  pen- 
sioners, servants,  thieves — indeed  every  one  (for  the  work  requires  no  training)  who  wants 
a  loaf,  and  who  is  willing  to  work  for  it.  The  London  Dock  is  one  of  the  few  places  in  the 
Metropolis  where  men  can  get  employment  without  character  or  recommendation. 

As  the  hour  approaches  eight,  you  know  by  the  stream  pouring  through  the  gates,  and 
the  rush  towards  particular  spots,  tiiat  the  "  calling  foremen"  have  made  their  appearance, 
and  that  the  "  casual  men  "  are  about  to  be  taken  on  for  the  day. 

Then  b^:ins  the  scuffling  and  scrambling,  and  stretching  forth  of  countless  hands  high 
in  the  air,  to  catch  the  eye  of  hinn  whose  nod  can  give  them  work.  As  the  foreman  calls 
from  a  book  the  names,  some  men  jump  up  on  the  back  of  others,  so  as  to  lift  themselves 
high  above  the  rest  and  attract  his  notice.  All  are  shouting;  some  cry  aloud  his  surname, 
and  some  his  christian  name ;  and  some  call  out  their  own  names  to  remind  him  that 
they  are  there.    Now  the  appeal  is  made  in  Lish  blarney ;  and  now  in  broken  English. 

Indeed,  it  is  a  sight  to  sadden  the  most  callous  to  see  thousands  of  men  struggling  there 
for  only  one  day's  hire,  the  scuffle  being  made  the  fiercer  by  the  knowledge  that  hundreds 
out  of  the  assembled  throng  must  be  left  to  idle  the  day  out  in  want.  To  look  in  the  faces 
of  that  hungry  crowd  is  to  see  a  sight  that  is  to  be  ever  remembered.  Some  are  smiling  to 
the  foreman  to  coax  him  into  remembrance  of  them ;  others,  with  their  protruding  eyes,  are 
tenibly  eager  to  snatch  at  the  hoped-for  pass  for  work.  Many,  too,  have  gone  there  and 
gone  through  the  same  struggle,  the  same  cries,  and  have  left  after  all  without  the  work 
they  had  screamed  for. 

Until  we  saw  with  our  own  eyes  this  scene  of  greedy  despair,  we  could  not  have 
believed  that  there  was  so  mad  an  anxiety  to  work,  and  so  bitter  a  want  of  it  among  so  vast 
a  body  of  men.  Ko  wonder  that  the  calling  foreman  should  be  often  carried  many  yards 
away  by  the  struggle  and  rush  of  the  multitude  around  him,  seeking  employment  at  his 
hands !  One  of  ^e  officials  assured  us  that  he  had  more  than  once  been  taken  off  his  feet, 
and  hurried  to  a  distance  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  by  the  eagerness  of  the  impatient  crowd 
elamonring  for  work. 

If,  however,  the  men  fail  in  getting  taken  on  at  the  conmiencement  of  the  day,  they 
then  retire  to  the  waiting-yard,  at  the  back  of  the  Docks,  there  to  remain  hour  after  hour^  in 
3« 


36  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OP  LOITOON. 

hope  that  the  irind  may  blow  them  some  stray  ship,  so  that  other  gangs  may  be  wanted, 
and  the  calling  foreman  come  to  seek  fresh  hands  there. 

It  is  a.sad  sight,  too,  to  see  the  poor  fellows  waiting  in  these  yards  to  be  hired  at  fonipenoe 
per  hour — ^for  such  are  the  terms  given  in  the  after-part  of  the  day.  There,  seated  on 
long  benches  ranged  against  the  wall,  they  remain,  some  telling  their  miseries,  and  some 
their  crimes,  to  one  another,  while  others  dose  away  their  time.  Bain  or  sonfihine,  there 
are  always  plenty  of  them  ready  to  catch  the  stray  Hhilling  or  eightpence  for  the  two  or  three 
hours'  labour.  By  the  size  of  the  shed  you  can  judge  how  many  men  sometimes  stay  there, 
in  the  pouring  rain,,  rather  than  run  the  chance  of  losing  the  stray  hour's  job.  Some  loiter 
on  the  bridge  close  by,  and  directly  that  their  practised  eye  or  ear  tells  them  the  calling 
foreman  is  in  want  of  another  gang,  they  rush  forward  in  a  stream  towards  the  gate — 
though  only  six  or  eight  at  most  can  be  hired  out  of  the  hundred  or  more  that  are  waiting. 
Then  the  same  mad  fight  takes  place  again  as  in  the  morning ;  the  same  jumping  on  benches ; 
the  same  raising  of  hands ;  the  same  entreaties ;  ay!  and  the  same  failure  as  before. 

It  is  strange  to  mark  the  change  that  takes  place  in  the  manner  of  the  men  when  the 
foreman  has  left.  Those  that  have  been  engaged  go  snuling  to  their  labour,  while  those 
who  are  left  behind  give  vent  to  their  disappointment  in  abuse  of  him  before  whom  they  had 
been  supplicating  and  smiling  but  a  few  minutes  previously. 

There  are  not  less  than  20,000  souls  living  by  Dock  labour  in  the  Metropolis.  The 
London  Docks  are  worked  by  between  1,000  to  8,000  hands,  according  as  the  business  is 
brisk  or  slack — that  is,  according  as  the  wind  is,  fair  or  foul,  for  the  entry  of  the  ships 
into  the  Port  of  London. 

Sence  there  are  some  thousands  of  stomachs  deprived  of  food  by  the  mere  chopping  of 
the  breeze.  ''  It's  an  iU  wind,''  sa3ns  the  proverb,  ''  that  blows  nobody  any  good;"  and  until 
we  came  to  investigate  the  condition  of  the  Dock  labourer,  we  could  not  have  believed  it 
possible  that  near  upon  2,000  souls  in  one  place  alone  lived,  chameleon-like,  upon  the  very 
air ;  or  that  an  easterly  wind  could  deprive  so  many  of  bread.  It  is,  indeed,  ''  a  nipping  and 
an  eager  air." 

That  the  sustenance  of  thousands  of  families  should  be  as  fickle  as  the  very  breeze  itself, 
that  the  weather-cock  should  be  the  index  of  daily  want  or  daily  ease  to  such  a  vast  body  of 
men,  women,  and  children,  is  a  climax  of  misery  and  wretchedness  that  could  hardly  have 
been  imagined  to  exist  in  the  very  heart  of  our  greatest  wealth. 

Nor  is  it  less  wonderM,  when  we  come  to  consider  the  immense  amount  of  food  consumed 
in  London,  that  there  should  be  such  a  thing  as  want  known  among  us. 

The  returns  of  the  cattle-market,  for  instance,  tell  us  that  the  population  of  London 
consume  some  277,000  bullocks,  30,000  calves,  1,480,000  sheep,  and  34,000  pigs;  and  these, 
it  is  estimated  by  Mr.  Hicks,  are  worth  between  seven  and  eight  millions  sterling. 

In  the  way  of  bread,  the  Londoners  are  said  to  eat  up  no  less  than  1,600,000  quarters  of 
wheat. 

Then  the  list  of  vegetables  supplied  by  the  aggregate  London  "  green  markets  " — ^includ- 
ing Oovent-garden,  Farringdon,  Portman,  the  Borough,  and  Spitalfields — is  as  foUows : — 

310,464,000  potmds potatoes 

89,672,000  plants cabbages 

14,326,000  heads        broccoli  and  cauliflowers 

32,648,000  roots turnips 

1,850,000  junks ditto,  tops 

16,817,000  roots carrots 

438,000  bushels     ...  .  peas 

133,400         „         beans 

221,100       „        French  beans 


THE  COITORASTS  OF  LONDON. 

19,872  dozen         .     .     . 

.     .    yegetable  manows 

19,560  dozen  bundles 

.     .     .    asparagus 

34,800       y,           „ 

.     .     celery 

91,200       „           „      . 

.     .     .    rhubarb 

4,492,800  plants         .     . 

.     .     .    lettuces 

182,912  dozen  hands 

.     .     .    radishes. 

1,489,600  bushels       .     . 

.     .     .     onions 

94,000  dozen  bundles 

.     .    ditto  (spring) 

87,360  bushels      .     .     . 

.     .     cucumbers 

32,900  dozen  bundles 

.     .     .    herbs* 

37 


Again,  the  list  of  the  gross  quantity  of  fish  1 
suppen  is  equally  enonnous : — 

Wet  Fish. 


3,480,000  pounds  of  salmon  and  salmon  trout    29,000  boxes,  14  fish  per  box 
4,000,000        „         live  cod     .     .  .     .     averaging  10  lbs.  each 

soles averaging  ^  lb.  each 

whiting averaging  6  ounces 

haddock averaging  2  lbs.  each 

plaice averaging  1  lb.  each 

mackerel .     .     averaging  1  lb.  each 

fresh  herrings     ....     250,000  barrels,  700  fish  per  barrel 
9,    .     „  in  bulk 

sprats 

eels  firom  Holland    .     .     ,)  ^  «,         .  , , 
y,    England  and  Ireland  j 


26,880,000 

6,752,000 

5,040,000 

33,600,000 

23,250,000 

42,000,000 

252,000,000 

4,000,000 

1,505,280 

127,680 


ff 


9f 


ff 


» 


f» 


ft 


>9 


>» 


» 


BbtFish. 


4,200,000 

8,000,000 

10,920,000 

10,600,000 

14,000,000 
96,000 


1,200,000  .  . 
600,000  .  . 
192,295  gallons 

24,300^  bushels 

50,400 

32,400 


>> 


76,000 


tf 


ff 


barrelled  cod    . 
dried  salt  cod 
smoked  haddock 
bloaters       .     . 
red  herrings     . 
dried  sprats 


15,000  barrels^  50  fish  per  barrel 

5r  lbs.  each 

25,000  barrels,  300  fish  per  barrel 

265,000  baskets,  150  fish  per  basket 

100,000  barrels,  500  fish  per  barrel 
9,600  large  bundles,  30  fish  per  bundle 


Shell  Fish. 


oysters   . 

lobsters  . 

crabs 

shrimps 

whelks 

mussels 

cockles 

periwinkles 


309,935  barrels,  1,600  fish  per  barrel 
averaging  1  lb.  each  fish 
averaging  1  lb.  each  fish 
324  to  the  pint 
224  to  the  ^  bushel 
1,000  to  the  ^  bushel 
2,000  to  the  ^  bushel 
4,000  to  the  i  bushel 


*  These  retami,  end  those  of  the  fiah,  cattle,  tnd  poultry  markets,  were  originally  collected  by  the' 
rafihor,  for  the  flnt  time  in  London,  from  the  MTeral  salesmen  at  the  mai^ets,  and  ooet  both  much  time  and 
money ;  thoo^  the  gentlemen  who  fiibricate  hooka  on  London,  from  Mr.  M*GullooE  downwards,  do  not  hesi- 
tate to  dig  their  aciasors  into  the  resnlta,  taking  care  to  do  with  them  the  aame  as  ia  dono  with  the  stolen 
handkenddeilii  in  Petticoat  Lane— tis.,  pick  out  the  name  of  the  owner. 


M  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDOlir. 

Farther,  in  the  matter  of  game  poultry,  the  metropolitan  consumption  from  one  market 
alone  (Leadenhall)  amounts  to  the  following : — 

Taicb  Bibbs  and  Bombsho  Fowls. 

1,266,000 fowls 

188,000 geese 

235,000 ducks 

60,000 turkeys 

284,500 pigeons 


Total,  2,033,500 

Weld  Birds,  os  Animals,  or  Gahjb. 

45,000 grouse 

84,500 partridges 

43,500 pheasants 

10,000 teal 

30,000 widgeons 

60,000 snipes 

28,000 plovers 

213,000 Lirks 

89,500 wild  birds 

48,000 hares 

680,000 labbite 


Total,  1,281,500 

By  way  of  dessert  to  this  enormous  banquet^  the  supply  of  fruit  frimishcd  by  all  the 
London  markets  is  equally  inconcdvable : — 

686,000  bushels  of  .  apples 

353,000         ,1  .  pears 

173,200  dozen  lbs.  of  cherries 

176,500  bushels  of  .  plums 


5,333         „            • 

greengages 

16,450         „ 

damsons 

4,900         „ 

bullace 

276,700 

gooseberries 

171,000  sieves    .    . 

cuirants  (red) 

108,000           yy                .         . 

cuxrants  (black) 

'24,000      „        .    . 

currants  (white) 

1,527,500  pottles  .     . 

strawberries 

35,250       „       .     . 

raspberries 

127,940       „       .     . 

mulberries 

9,018  bushels  of  . 

hazel  nuts 

518,400  lbs.  of  .     . 

filberts 

Then,  as  a  fitting  companion  to  this  immense  amount  of  BoHd  food,  the  quantity  of  liquids 
consumed  is  aa  follows : — 

65,000  pipes  of  wines 
2,000,000  gallons  of  spirits 
43,200,000  gallons  of  porter  and  ale 
19,215,000,000  gallons  of  water,  supplied  by  the  several  companies  to  the  houses. 


THE  CONTEASTS  OF  LONDON.  89 

And  luB&y,  for  £he  ptuposes  of  heating  and  lighting,  the  Metropolis  bums  no  less  than 
3,000,000  tons  of  coal. 

But  if  the  great  meat  and  y^etable  and  poultry  markets  of  the  Metropolis  are  indications 
of  the  good  liying  indulged  in  by  a  large  proportion  of  the  people,  there  are  at  the  same  time 
other  markets  which  may  be  cited  as  proo&  of  the  privation  nndergone  by  large  numbers 
also.  The  wretched  man  who  liyes  by  picking  up  bits  of  rag  in  the  8treet---and  there  is  a 
considerable  army  of  them — cannot  be  said  to  add  much  to  the  gross  consumption  of  the 
Capital ;  still  he  even  attends  hit  market,  and  has  his  exohangey  even  though  he  deals  in 
etmpons  of  linen,  and  traffics  in  old  iron  rather  than  the  precious  metals. 

Let  US,  then,  by  way  of  contrast  to  the  luxury  indicated  by  the  preceding  details,  follow 
the  bone-gprubber  to  his  mart — ^the  exchange  for  old  dothes  and  rags. 

The  traffic  here  consists  not  of  ship -loads  of  valuables  brought  from  the  four  qUBrters  of 
the  globe,  bnt  simply  of  wallets  of  refhse  gathered  from  the  areas,  mews,  and  alleys  of 
every  part  of  London ;  for  that  which  is  bought  and  sold  in  this  locality  is  not  made  up  of 
the  choicest  riches  of  the  world,  but  simply  of  what  others  have  cast  aside  as  worthless. 
Indeed,  the  wealth  in  which  the  merchants  of  Bag  Fair  deal,  so  &r  from  being  of  any  value 
to  ordinary  minds,  is  merely  the  o£bl  of  the  well-to-do— the  skins  sloughed  by  gentility — ^the 
Mrity  as  it  were,  of  the  fashionable  world. 

The  merchandize  of  this  quarter  consists  not  of  gold-dust  and  ivory,  but  literally  of  old 
metal  and  bones ;  not  of  bales  of  cotton  and  pieces  of  rich  silk,  but  of  bits  of  dirty  rag, 
swept  from  shop  doors  and  picked  np  and  washed  by  the  needy  finders ;  not  of  dye-stu£&,  nor 
indigo,  nor  hides,  but  of  old  soleless  shoes,  to  be  converted  by  the  alchemy  of  science  into 
Fnissian  bine  wherewith  to  tint,  perhaps,  some  nobles'  robes,  and  bits  of  old  iron  to  be  made 
into  new. 

Some  dozen  years  ago,  one  of  the  Hebrew  merchant  dealers  in  old  clothes  purchased  the 
houses  at  the  back  of  Phil's  Buildings — a  court  leading  out  of  Eoundsditch,  immediatoly 
fiacing  St.  Mary  Axe,  and  formed  the  present  market,  now  styled  the  ''Old  Clothes 
Exchange,"  and  where  Bag  Fair  maybe  said  to  be  at  present  centralized.  Prior  to  this,  the 
market  was  held  in  the  streets. 

About  three  or  four  o'clock  in  winter,  and  four  or  five  in  summer,  are  the  busiest  periods  at 
the  "Old  Clothes  Exchange;"  and  then  the  passage  leading  to  the  Mart  from  Houndsditch 
will  be  seen  to  be  literally  black  with  the  mob  of  old-dothes  men  congregated  outside  the 
gates.  Almost  all  have  bags  on  their  backs,  and  not  a  few  three  or  four  old  hats  in  their  hands, 
while  here  and  there  faces  with  grizzly  beards  wiU  be  seen  through  the  vista  of  hook  noses. 

immediately  outside  the  gateway,  at  the  end  of  the  crowded  court,  stands  the  celebrated 
Barney  Aaron,  the  janitor,  with  out-stretched  hand  waiting  to  receive  the  halfpenny  toll, 
demanded  of  each  of  the  buyers  and  sellers  who  enter ;  and  with  his  son  by  his  side,  with  a 
leathern  pouch  filled  with  half  a  hundred  weight  of  coppers  he  has  already  received,  and 
ready  to  give  change  for  any  silver  that  may  be  tendered. 

As  the  stranger  passes  through  the  gate,  the  odour  of  the  collocated  old  clothes  and  old 
rags,  and  old  shoes,  together  with,  in  the  season,  half-putrid  hare  skins,  is  almost  overpower- 
ing. The  atmosphere  of  the  place  has  a  peculiar  sour  smell  blended  with  the  mildewy  or 
fungous  odour  of  what  is  termed  "  mother ;"  indeed  the  stench  is  a  compound  of  mouldiness, 
mustiness,  and  fustiness — a  kind  of  '*  houquet  de  tntHe  tewers^*^  that  is  &i  from  pleasant  to 
christian  nostrils. 

The  hucksters  of  tatters  as  they  pour  in  with  their  bundles  at  their  backs,  one  after 
another,  are  surrounded  by  some  half-dozen  of  the  more  eager  Jews,  some  in  greasy  gaber- 
dines extending  to  the  heels  and  clinging  almost  as  tight  to  the  frame  as  ladies'  wet  bathing- 
gowns.  Two  or  three  of  them  seize  the  hucksters  by  the  arm,  and  feel  the  contents  of  the 
bundle  at  his  back ;  and  a  few  tap  them  on  the  shoulder  as  they  all  damour  for  the  first  sight 
of  the  contents  of  their  wallets. 


40  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

"Ha*  you  oot  any  preoking  (broken  pieces)  ?"  cries  one  who  buys  old  coats,  to  cut  into 
doth  caps. 

'*  Cot  any  fustian,  old  cordsh,  or  old  poots  ?"  "  Yer  know  me,"  says  another,  in  a 
wheedHng  tone.     ''I'm  little  Ikey,  the  pest  of  puyers,  and  always  gives  a  coot  piishe.'* 

Such,  indeed,  is  the  anxiety  and  eagerness  of  the  Israelitish  buyers  to  get  the  first  chance 
of  the  bargains,  that  it  is  as  much  as  the  visitor  can  do  to  force  his  way  through  the  greedy 
and  greasy  mob. 

Once  past  the  entrance,  however,  the  stranger  is  able  to  obtain  a  tolerable  view  of  the 
place. 

The  '<  Exchange''  consists  of  a  large  square  plot  of  ground,  about  an  acre  in  extent,  and 
surrounded  by  a  low  hoarding,  with  a  narrow  sloping  roof,  hardly  wider  indeed  than  the  old 
eaves  to  farm-houses,  and  projecting  far  enough  forward  to  shelter  one  person  fix>m  the  rain. 
Across  this  ground  are  placed  four  double  rows  of  benches,  ranged  back  to  back,  and  here  sit 
the  sellers  of  old  clothes,  with  their  unsightly  and  unsavoury  store  of  garments  strewn  or 
piled  on  the  ground  at  their  feet,  whilst  between  the  rows  of  petty  dealers  pass  the  merchant 
buyers  on  the  look-out  for  ''bargains." 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  the  mind  is,  that  a  greater  bustle  and  eagerness  appear  to 
rage  among  the  buyers  of  the  refuse  of  London,  than  among  the  traders  in  the  more  valuable 
commodities.  Every  lot  exposed  for  sale  seems  to  have  fulfilled  to  the  utmost  the  office  for 
which  it  was  designed,  and  now  that  its  uses  are  ended,  and  it  seems  to  be  utterly  worthless^ 
the  novice  to  such  scenes  cannot  refrain  from  marvelling  what  remaining  quality  can  possibly 
give  the  least  value  to  the  rubbish. 

Here  a  "  crockman"  (a  seller  of  crockery  ware),  in  a  bright-red  plush  waistcoat  and 
knee-breeches,  and  with  legs  like  balustrades,  sits  beside  his  half-emptied  basket  of  china 
and  earthen- ware,  while  at  his  feet  is  strewn  the  apparently  worthless  collection  of  paletots, 
and  cracked  'Wellingtons,  and  greasy  napless  hats,  for  which  he  has  exchanged  his  jugs, 
basins,  and  spar  ornaments.  A  few  yards  from  him  is  a  woman,  enveloped  in  a  coachman's 
drab  and  many-capod  box-coat,  with  a  pair  of  men's  cloth  boots  on  her  feet,  and  her  Ump- 
looking  straw  bonnet  flattened  down  on  her  head,  from  repeated  loads ;  the  ground  before 
her,  too,  is  littered  with  old  tea-coloured  stays,  and  bundles  of  wooden  busks,  and  little  bits  of 
whalebone,  whilst  beside  her,  on  the  seat,  lies  a  small  bundle  of  old  parasols  tied  together,  and 
looking  like  a  quiver  full  of  arrows.  In  the  winter  you  may  see  the  same  woman  surrounded 
with  hare  skins ;  some  so  old  and  stiff  that  they  seem  frozen,  and  the  fresher  ones  looking 
shiny  and  crimson  as  red  tinsel. 

Now  you  come,  as  you  push  your  way  along  the  narrow  passage  between  the  seats,  to  a 
man  with  a  small  mound  of  old  boots,  some  of  which  have  the  soles  torn  off,  and  the  broken 
threads  showing  underneath  like  the  stump  of  teeth ;  others  are  so  brown  from  long  want 
of  blacking,  that  they  seem  almost  to  be  pieces  of  rusty  metal,  and  others  again  are 
speckled  all  over  with  small  white  spots  of  mildew.  Beside  another  huckster  is  piled  a  little 
hillock  of  washed-out  light  waistcoats,  and  old  cotton  drawers,  and  straw-bonnets  half  in 
shreds.  Then  you  see  a  Jew  boy  holding  up  the  remains  of  a  theatrical  dress,  consisting  of  a 
black  velvet  body  stuck  all  over  with  bed  furniture  ornaments,  and  evidently  reminding  the 
young  Israelite  of  some  "  soul-stirring"  melo-drama  that  he  has  seen  on  the  Saturday  evening 
at  the  Pavilion  Theatre. 

A  few  steps  farther  on,  you  find  one  of  the  merchants  blowing  into  the  fur  of  some 
old  imitation-sable  muff,  that  has  gone  as  foxy  as  a  Scotchman's  whiskers.  Next,  your 
attention  is  fixed  upon  a  black-chinned  and  lanthom-jawed  bone-grubber,  clad  in  dirty 
greasy  rags,  with  his  wallet  emptied  on  the  stones,  and  the  bones  from  it,  as  well  as  bits  of 
old  iron  and  horse-shoes,  and  pieces  of  rags,  all  sorted  into  different  lots  before  him ;  and  as 
he  sits  there,  anxiously  waiting  for  a  purchaser,  he  munches  a  hunk  of  mouldy  pie  crust  that 
he  has  had  given  to  him  on  his  rounds. 


THE  CONTRASTS  OF  LONDON.  41 

In  one  part  of  the  Exchange  you  recognize  the  swarthy  features  of  some  well-known 
travelling  tinker,  with  a  complexion  the  colour  of  curry  powder,  and  hands  brown,  as  if 
recently  tarred ;  whUe  in  ftont  of  hm  is  reared  a  pyramid  of  old  battered  britannia-metal 
teapots  and  saucepans ;  and  next  to  him  sits  an  umbrella  mender,  before  whom  is  strewn 
a  store  of  whalebone  ribs,  and  ferniled  sticks  fitted  with  sharp  pointed  bone  handles. 

Then  the  buyers,  too,  are  almost  as  picturesque  and  motley  a  group  as  the  sellers,  for  the 
purchasers  are  of  all  nations,  and  habited  in  every  description  of  costume.  Some  are 
Greeks,  others  Swiss,  others  again  Gennans ;  some  have  come  there  to  buy  up  the  rough 
old  charity  cbthing  and  the  army  great  coats  for  the  Irish  **  market."  One  man  with  a  long 
flowing  beard  and  tattered  gaberdine,  that  shines  like  a  tarpaulin  with  the  grease,  and  who  is 
said  to  be  worth  thousands,  is  there  again,  as  indeed  he  is  day  after  day,  to  see  if  he  cannot 
add  another  sixpence  to  his  hoard,  by  dabbling  in  the  rags  and  refuse  with  which  the  ground 
is  covered.  Mark  how  he  is  wheedling,  and  whining,  and  shrugging  up  his  shoulders  to  that 
poor  wretch,  in  the  hope  of  inducing  him  to  part  with  the  silver  pendl-caae  he  has  ''  found" 
on  his  rounds,  for  a  few  pence  less  than  its  real  value. 

As  the  purchasers  go  pacing  up  and  down  the  narrow  pathways,  threading  their  way, 
now  along  tiie  old  bottles,  bonnets,  and  rags,  and  now  among  the  bones,  the  old  metal  and 
stays,  the  gowns,  the  hats,  and  coats,  a  thick-lipped  Jew  boy  shouts  from  his  high  stage  in 
the  centre  of  the  market,  "  Shiusher  peer,  an  aypenny  a  glarsh ! — an  aypenny  a  glarsh, 
shinsherpeer!"  Between  the  seats  women  worm  along  carrying  baskets  of  trotters,  and 
screaming  as  they  go,  "  Legs  of  mutton,  two  for  a  penny !  Who'll  give  me  a  hansel."  And 
after  them  comes  a  man  with  a  large  tray  of  ^*  Mty  cakes." 

In  the  middle  of  the  market,  too,  stands  another  dealer  in  street  luxuries,  with  a  display 
of  pi<^ed  whelks,  like  huge  snails  floating  in  saucers  of  brine ;  and  next  t#him  is  a  sweet- 
meat stall,  with  a  crowd  of  young  Israelites  gathered  round  the  keeper  eagerly  gambling 
with  marbles  for  ''Albert  rock'^  and  ''  Boneyparte's  ribs." 

At  one  end  of  the  Exchange  stands  a  coffee  and  beer  shop,  inside  of  which  you  find  Jews 
pla3ring  at  draughts,  or  wrangling  aa  they  settle  for  the  articles  which  they  have  bought  or 
sold ;  while,  even  as  you  leave  by  the  gate  that  leads  towards  Petticoat  Lane,  there  is  a  girl 
stationed  outside  with  a  horse-pail  full  of  ice,  and  dispensing  halfpenny  egg-cupsM  of 
what  appears  to  be  very  much  like  frozen  soap-suds,  and  shouting,  as  she  shakes  the  bucket, 
and  makes  the  ice  in  it  rattle  like  broken  glass,  **  Now,  boys !  here's  your  coolers,  only 
an  aypenny  a  glass !  ^an  aypenny  a  glass  ! " 

In  fine,  it  may  tmly  be  said  that  in  no  other  part  of  the  entire  world  is  such  a  scene  of 
riot,  rags,  filth,  and  feasting  to  be  witnessed,  aaatthe  Old  Clothes  Exchange  in  Houndsditch. 

^  ii.  Tha  Charity  and  the  Crime  of  London. 

The  broad  line  of  demarcation  separating  our  own  time  frx)m  that  of  all  others,  is  to  found 
in  the  friller  and  more  general  development  of  the  human  sympathies. 

Our  princes  and  nobles  are  no  longer  the  patrons  of  prize-fights,  but  the  presidents 
of  benevolent  institutions.  Instead  of  the  bear-gardens  and  cock-pits  that  formerly 
flourished  in  every  quarter  of  the  town,  our  Capital  bristles  and  gHtters  with  its  thousand 
palaces  for  the  indigent  and  suffering  poor.  If  we  are  distinguished  among  nations  for  our 
exceeding  wealth,  assuredly  we  are  equally  illustrious  for  our  abundant  charity.  Almost 
every  want  or  ill  that  can  distress  human  nature  has  some  palatial  institution  for  the 
mitigation  of  it.  We  have  rich  societies  fbr  every  conceivable  form  of  benevolence — ^for  the 
visitation  of  the  sick ;  for  the  cure  of  the  maimed,  and  the  crippled ;  for  the  alleviation  of  the 
panga  of  child-birth ;  for  grnng  shelter  to  the  houseless,  support  to  the  aged  and  the  infirm, 
homes  to  the  orphan  end  the  foundling ;  fbr  the  reformation  of  juvenile  offenders  and  prosti- 
tutes, iJie  reception  of  the  children  of  convicts,  the  liberation  of  debtors,  the  suppression 


42  THE  altEAT  WOBU)  OF  LONDON. 

of  vice;  for  eduoatmg  the  ragged,  teaching  the  blind,  the  deaf  and  the  dumb;  for  guarding 
and  soothing  the  mad ;  protecting  the  idiotic,  clothing  the  naked,  and  feeding  the  hungry. 
Nor  does  our  charity  cease  with  our  own  countrymen ;  for  the  very  ship-of-war  which  we 
build  to  destroy  the  people  of  other  lands,  we  ultimately  convert  into  a  floating  hospital  to 
save  and  comfort  them  in  the  hour  of  their  affliction  among  us. 

Of  the  sums  devoted  to  the  maintenance  of  these  various  institutions,  tiie  excellent  littie 
work  of  Mr.  Sampson  Low,  jun.,  on  the  ''Charities  of  London  in  1852-3,"  enables  us  to 
come  to  a  ready  and  very  accurate  conclusion. 

Accordingly  we  find,  upon  reference  to  this  work,  that  there  are  altogether  in  the 
Metropolis  530  charitable  institutions,  viz. : — 

Ninety-two  Medical  Charities,  having  an  aggregate  income  during  tiie  year  of  £266,925. 
Twelve  Societies  for  the  Preservation  of  Life,  Health,  and  Public  Morals,  whose  yearly 
incomes  equal  altogether,  £35,717. 

Seventeen  for  Beclaiming  the  Fallen,  or  Penitentiary  and  Beformatory  Asylums  =  £39,486. 
Thirteen  for  the  Belief  of  Street  Destitution  and  Distress  »  £18,326. 
Fourteen  for  the  !EleHef  of  Specific  Distress  ^  £27,387. 

One  hundred  and  twenty-six  Asylums  for  the  Beception  of  the  Aged  ==  £87,630. 
Nine  for  the  Benefit  of  the  Blind,  Deaf  and  Dumb  »  £25,050. 
Thirteen  Asylums  for  the  Maintenance  of  Orphans  =  £45,464. 

Fifteen  for  the  Maintenance  of  other  Children  (exclusive  of  Parochial  Schools)  =  £88,228. 
Twenty-one  Societies  for  the  Promotion  of  Schools  and  their  efficiency  =  £72,247. 
Twenty-five  Jewish  Miscellaneous  Charities  =  £10,000. 
Nineteen  for  the  Benefit  of  the  Lidnstrions  »  £9,124. 
Twelve  Ben^lent  Pension  Societies  =  £23,667. 
Fifteen  Clergy  Aid  Funds  =  £35,301. 

Thirty-two  otber  Professional  and  Trade  Benevolent  Funds  =  £53,467. 
Thirty  Trade  Provident  =  £25,000, 

Forty-three  Home  Mission  Societies  (several  combining  extensive  operations  abroad)  = 
£319,705. 

Fourteen  Foreign  Mission  Societies  =r  £459,668.* 
To  this  list  must  be  added  five  unclassed  Societies  =  £3,252. 

Also  an  amount  of  £160,000,  raised  during  the  year  for  special  ^mds,  including  the 
proposed  Wellington  College,  the  new  Medical  College,  the  Wellington  Benevolent  Fund,  &c. 
— ^making  altogether,  as  the  subject  of  our  "  Beport," — 

Five  hundred  and  thirty  Charitable  Societies  in  London,  with  an  aggregate  amount 
disbursed  during  the  year  of  £1,805, 635. f 

But  the  above  aggregate  amount  of  the  metropolitan  ^charitable  donations,  large  as  the 
sum  is,  refers  only  to  the  moneys  entrusted  to  public  societies  to  distribute.  Of  the  amount 
disbursed  by  private  individuals  in  charity  to  their  poorer  neighbours,  of  course  no  accurate 
estimate  can  be  formed.  But  if  we  assume  that  as  much  money  is  given  in  private  as  in 
public  charity  (and  from  our  inquiries  among  the  London  beggars,  and  especially  the 
'*  screeving''  or  begging-letter  writing  class,  we  have  reason  to  believe  that  there  is  much 
mor6),  we  shall  have,  in  round  numbers,  a  gross  total  of  three  and  a  half  millions  of  money 
annually  distributed  by  the  rich  among  the  poor. 

Now,  as  a  set-off  against  this  noble  indication  of  the  benevolence  of  our  people,  we  will 

*  The  Bales  of  Bibles  and  other  religious  publicationa,  realising  above  £100,000,  ii  not  indoded  in 
either  of  the  last-mentioned  amonnta. 

t  These  flgores  have  been  compiled  from  the  varions  statements  of  the  year  during  1852-8,  for  the 
Ukrhioh  they  axe  respectiTely  made  up  to— averaging  March  31,  1853.  Qrammar  Schools  and  Educational 
Sstabliahments,  as  Merahaat  Tajhaf  and  St  Paul's,  are  not  included— neither  Parochial  and  other  Local 
Behoolf— or  Miscellaneous  Endowments  in  the  gift  of  City  Companies  and 


THE  CONTRASTS  OF  LONDON.  43 

again  luimble  the  Londoner'B  pride  by  giving  him  a  faint  notion  of  the  criminality  of  alai^ 
body  of  London  folk. 

Li  the  Beports  of  the  Poor-Law  Commissioners  we  find  that  between  the  years  1848  and 
1849  ibere  were  no  less  than  143,064  vagrants,  or  tramps,  admitted  into  the  casual  wards  of 
the  workhonfles  thronghont  the  metropolitan  districts.* 

There  are^  then,  no  lees  than  143,000  admissions  of  vagrants  to  the  casual  wards  of  the 
Metropolis  in  the  course  of  the  year;  and  granting  that  many  of  these  temporary  inmates 
appear  more  than  once  in  the  calculation  (for  it  is  the  habit  of  the  class  to  go  from  one 
eleenuwynary  asylum  to  another),  still  we  shall  have  a  lai^  number  distributed  throughout 
the  Melxopolis.  The  conclusion  we  have  come  to,  after  consulting  with  the  best  authorities 
on  the  subject,  is,  that  there  are  just  upon  4,000  habitual  vagabonds  distributed  about 
London,  and  the  cost  of  their  support  annually  amotrnts  to  very  nearly  £50,000.t 

"  One  of  the  worst  concomitants  of  vagrant  mendicancy,"  says  the  Foor-Law  Beport,  '*  is 
^he  fever  of  a  dangerous  typhoid  character  which  has  universally  marked  the  path  of  the 
mendicant.  There  is  scarcely  a  workhouse  in  which  this  pestilence  does  not  prevail  in  a 
greater  or  less  degree ;  and  numerous  Union  officers  have  fisdlen  victims  to  it."  Those  who 
are  acquainted  with  the  exceeding  filth  of  the  persons  frequenting  the  casual  wards,  will  not 
wonder  at  the  fever  which  follows  in  the  wake  of  the  vagrants.  "  Many  have  the  itch.  I 
have  seen,"  says  Mr.  Boase,  ''  a  party  of  twenty  all  scratching  themselves  at  once,  before 
setting  into  their  rest  in  the  straw.    Lice  exist  in  great  numbers  upon  them." 

That  vagrancy  is  the  nursery  of  crime,  and  that  the  habitual  tramps  are  first  beggars 
then  thieves,  and  finally  the  convicts  of  the  country,  the  evidence  of  all  parties  goes  to  prove. 

But  we  cannot  give  the  reader  a  better  general  idea  of  the  character  and  habits  of  this 
olass  than  by  detailing  the  particulars  of  a  meeting  of  that  curious  body  of  people  which  we 
once  held,  and  when  as  many  as  150  were  present.    Never  was  witnessed  a  more  distressing 

*  The  items  making  up  the  above  total — that  is  to  aay,  the  number  of  vagrants  admitted  into  the  several 
Hetzopolitan  Warkhonses— may  be  given  as  follows :— Pancras,  19,869 ;  Chelsea,  15,199  ;  Stepney,  12,869 ; 
West  London,  9,777 ;  Fnlham,  9,017 ;  Holbom,  7,947 ;  St  Margaret,  Westminster,  7,410 ;  St.  George, 
SonthwariE,  6,918 ;  London  City,  6,825 ;  Newiogton,  9,575 ;  Shoreditch,  5,921 ;  Paddington,  5,378 ;  East 
London,  4,912 ;  Islington,  4,561 ;  Kensbigton,  3,917  ;  Wandsworth,  3,848 ;  St  Luke's,  3,409 ;  Whitechspel, 
3,904 ;  Botheihithe,  2,627 ;  Lambeth,  2,516 ;  Camberwell,  2,104 ;  St  Martin's  in  the  Fields,  1,823 ;  Poplar, 
1,737 ;  Betfanal  Oieen,  1,620 ;  Greenwioh,  1,404 ;  Hackney,  833 ;  St  Giles,  581 ;  St  James,  Westminster, 
371 ;  Cleikenwell,  88 ;  Strand,  68 ;  St  George  in  the  East,  81 ;  St  Saviour,  15 ;  Lewisham,  12 ;  St  Clave, 
Southwmric,  0 ;  Bennondsey,  0 ;  St  George,  Hanover  Square,  0 ;  Maiylebone,  0 ;  Hampstead,  0, 

t  The  above  oonolnsion  has  been  arrived  at  from  the  following  data : — 

Ayerage  number  of  Vagrants  relieved  each  night  in  the  Metropolitan  Unions       .  849 

Arerage  number  of  Vagrants  resident  in  the  Mendicants'  Lodging-houses  of  London    .     2,481 
Ayerage  number  of  indiyiduals  relieved  at  the  Metropolitan  Asylums  for  the  houseless 

poor 750 

Total       ....     4,030 

Now,  as  five  per  cent  of  this  amount  is  said  to  consist  of  characters  really  destitute  and  descrying,  w« 
arriye  at  the  conclusion  that  there  are  3,829  vagrants  in  London,  liying  either  by  mendicancy  or  theft. 
The  cost  of  the  vagrants  in  London  in  the  year  1848,  may  be  estimated  as  follows : — 

310,058  yagrants  relieved  at  the  Metropolitan  Unions,  at  the  cost  of  2<i  per 

head        .....  

67,500  nig^ti^  lodgings  afforded  to  the  houseless  poor  at  the  Metropolitan 

Asylums,  including  the  West  End  Asylum,  Market  Street,  Edgeware  Bead 
2,431  inmates  of  the  Mendicants'  Lodc^-houses  in  London,  gaining  by 

''cadging"  upon  an  average.  Is.  per  day,  or  altogether,  per  year     • 

Deduct  6  per  cent  for  the  cost  of  relief  for  the  truly  deserying     • 

The  total  wOl  then  be   ....  £47,580    411} 


.  £2,584  13 

0 

L 

[     3,184     1 

4i 

44,365  15 

0 

£50,084    9 
2,504    4 

4i 
6 

44  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

spectacle  of  squaLor,  rags,  and  wretchedness.  Some  were  young  men,  and  some  were  children. 
One,  who  styled  himself  a  **  cadger,"  was  six  years  of  age,  and  several  who  confessed  them- 
selyes  as  'Sprigs"  were  only  ten.  The  countraiances  of  the  hoys  were  of  yaiions  character. 
Many  were  not  only  good-looking,  hut  had  a  frank  ingennous  expression,  that  seemed  in  no 
way  connected  with  innate  roguery.  Many,  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  deep-sank  and  half- 
averted  eye,  which  is  so  characteristic  of  natural  dishonesty  and  cunning.  Some  had  the 
regular  features  of  lads  horn  of  parents  in  easy  circumstances.  The  hair  of  most  of  the  lads 
was  cut  very  close  to  the  head,  showing  their  recent  liheration  from  prison ;  indeed,  one  might 
tell,  hy  the  comparative  length  of  the  crop,  the  time  that  each  hoy  had  heen  out  of  gaol.  All 
hut  a  few  of  the  elder  lads  were  remarkahle,  amidst  the  rags,  filth,  and  wretchedness  of 
their  external  appearance,  for  the  mirth  and  carelessness  impressed  upon  th&  countenance. 

At  first  their  hehaviour  was  very  noisy  and  disorderly,  coarse  and  rihald  jokes  were  freely 
cracked,  exciting  general  hursts  of  laughter ;  while  howls,  cat-calls,  and  all  manner  of  unearthly 
and  indescrihahle  yells  threatened  for  a  time  to  render  aU  attempts  at  order  utterly  abortive. 
At  one  moment,  a  lad  would  imitate  the  bray  of  the  jackass,  and  immediately  the  whole 
hundred  and  fifty  would  fall  to  braying  like  him.  Then  some  ragged  urchin  would  crow 
like  a  cock ;  whereupon  the  place  would  echo  with  a  hundred  and  fifty  cock-crows !  Next^ 
as  a  negro-boy  entered  the  room,  one  of  the  young  vagabonds  would  shout  out  swe-ee-p; 
this  would  be  received  with  peals  of  laughter,  and  followed  by  a  general  repetition  of  the 
same  cry.  Presently  a  hundred  and  fifty  cat-calls,  of  the  shrillest  possible  description,  would 
almost  split  the  ears.  These  would  be  succeeded  by  cries  of,  '< Strike  up,  catgut  scrapers!" 
''Go  on  with  your  bairow!"  "Flare  up,  my  never-sweats !"  and  a  variety  of  other  street 
sayings. 

Indeed,  the  uproar  which  went  on  before  the  commencement  of  the  meeting  will  be  best 
understood,  if  we  compare  it  to  the  scene  presented  by  a  public  menagerie  at  feeding  time. 
The  greatest  difficulty,  as  might  be  expected,  was  experienced  in  collecting  the  subjoined 
statistics  as  to  the  character  and  condition  of  those  present  on  the  oocasioii.  By  a  persevering 
mode  of  inquiry,  however,  the  following  tacts  were  elicited : — 

With  respect  to  age,  the  youngest  boy  present  was  six  years  old;  he  styled  himself 
a  cadger,  and  said  that  his  mother,  who  was  a  widow,  and  suffering  frt}m  ill  health,  sent 
him  into  the  streets  to  beg.  There  were  7  of  ten  years  of  age,  3  <^  twelve,  and  3  of  thirteen, 
10  of  fourteen,  26  of  fifteen,  11  of  sixteen,  20  of  seventeen,  26  of  eighteen,  and  45  of 
nineteen. 

Then  19  had  fathers  and  mothers  stLQ  liviog,  39  had  only  one  parent,  and  80  were 
orphans,  in  the  fullest  sense  of  the  word,  having  neither  father  nor  mother  alive. 

Of  professed  beggars,  there  were  60 ;  whilst  66  acknowledged  themselves  to  be  habitual 
''prigs ; "  the  anouncement  that  the  greater  number  present  were  thieves  pleased  them  exceed- 
ingly, and  was  received  with  three  rounds  of  applause. 

Next  it  was  ascertained  that  12  of  them  had  been  in  prison  once  (2  of  these  were  but  ten 
years  of  age),  5  had  been  in  prison  twice,  3  thrice,  4  four  times,  7  five  times,  8  six  times,  5  seven 
times,  4  eight  times,  2  nine  times  (and  1  of  these  thirteen  years  of  age),  5  ten  times,  5  twelve 
times,  2  thirteen  times,  3  fourteen  times,  2  sixteen  times,  3  seventeen  times,  2  eighteen  times, 
5  twenty  times,  6  twenty-four  times,  1  twenty-five  times,  1  twenty-six  times,  and  1  twenty- 
nine  times. 

The  announcements  in  reply  to  the  question  as  to  the  number  of  times  that  any 
of  them  had  been  in  gaol,  were  received  with  great  applause,  which  became  more  and 
more  boisterous  as  the  number  of  imprisonments  increased.  When  it  was  announced  that  one, 
though  only  nineteen  years  of  age,  had  been  incarcerated  as  many  as  twenty-nine  times,  the 
clapping  of  hands,  the  cat-calls,  and  shouts  of  "bray-vo !"  lasted  for  several  minutes,  whilst  the 
whole  of  the  boys  rose  to  look  ,at  the  distinguished  individual.  Some  chalked  on  their  hats 
the  figures  whidi  designated  the  sum  of  the  several  times  they  had  been  in  gaol. 


THE  CONTRASTS  OF  LONDON.  46 

Ab  to  the  oanfle  of  their  yagabondism,  it  was  found  that  22  had  ran  away  from  their 
homes,  owing  to  the  ill-treatment  of  their  parents;  18  confessed  to  having  been  ruined 
Enough  their  parents  allowing  them  to  run  wild  in  the  streets,  and  to  be  led  astray  by  bad 
companions ;  and  15  acknowledged  that  they  had  been  first  taught  thieving  in  a  lodging* 
house. 

Concerning  the  vagrant  habits  of  the  youths,  the  following  foots  were  elicited: — 78 
regularly  roam  through  the  country  every  year ;  65  sleep  regularly  in  the  casual-wards  of  the 
unions ;  and  52  occasionally  slept  in  trampers'  lodging-houses  throughout  the  country. 

Be^ecting  their  education,  according  to  the  popular  meaning  of  the  term,  63  of  the  150 
were  able  to  read  and  write,  and  they  were  principally  thieves.  50  of  this  number  said  they 
had  read  **  Jack  Sheppard,''  and  the  lives  of  "  Dick  Turpin,"  and  ''  Claude  du  Yal,"  and  all 
the  other  popular  thieves'  novels,  as  well  as  the  Newgate  Calendar,  and  lives  of  the  robbers 
and  pirates.  Those  who  could  not  read  themselves,  said  that  "Jack  Sheppard  *'  was  read  out  to 
them  at  the  lodging-houses.  Numbers  avowed  that  they  had  been  induced  to  resort  to  an 
abandoned  course  of  life  from  reading  the  lives  of  notorious  thieves,  and  novels  about  highway 
robbers.  When  asked  what  they  thought  of  Jack  Sheppard,  several  bawled  out — '<  He's  a 
regular  brick !" — a  sentiment  which  was  almost  umversally  concurred  in  by  the  deafening  shouts 
and  plaudits  which  followed.  When  questioned  as  to  whether  they  would  Hke  to  have  been 
Jack  Sheppardy  the  answer  was,  "  Yes,  if  the  times  were  the  same  now  as  they  were  then!" 
13  confessed  that  they  had  taken  to  thieving  in  order  to  go  to  the  low  theatres ;  and  one  lad 
said  he  had  lost  a  good  situation  on  the  Birmingham  railway  through  his  love  of  the  play. 
20  stated  that  they  had  been  flogged  in  prison,  many  of  them  having  been  so  punished  two, 
three,  and  four  different  times. 

A  policeman  in  plain  clothes  was  present,  but  their  acute  eyes  were  not  long  before  they 
detected  lus  real  character,  notwithstanding  his  disguise.  Several  demanded  that  he  should 
be  turned  out.  The  officer  was  accordingly  given  to  understand  that  the  meeting  was  a 
private  one,  and  requested  to  withdraw.  Having  apologized  for  intruding,  he  proceeded  to 
leave  the  room ;  and  no  sooner  did  the  boys  see  the  '*  Peeler  "  move  towards  the  door  than 
they  gave  vent  to  several  rotmds  of  very  hearty  applause,  accompanied  with  hisses,  groans, 
and  cries  of  "  Throw  him  over ! " 

NoWy  we  have  paid  some  little  attention  to  such  strange  members  of  the  human  family 
as  these,  and  others  at  war  with  all  social  institutions.  We  have  thought  the  peculiarities 
of  their  nature  as  worthy  of  study  in  an  ethnological  point  of  view,  as  those  of  the  people  of 
other  countries,  and  we  have  learnt  to  look  upon  them  as  a  distinct  race  of  individuals,  as 
distinct  as  the  Malay  is  from  the  Caucasian  tribe.  We  have  sought,  moreover,  to  reduce 
their  several  varieties  into  something  like  system,  believing  it  quite  as  requisite  that  we 
should  have  an  attempt  at  a  scientific  classification  of  the  criminal  classes,  as  of  the  Infusoria 
om  the  Cryptogamia.  An  enumeration  of  the  several  natural  orders  and  species  of  criminals 
will  let  the  reader  see  that  the  class  is  as  multifarious,  and  surely,  in  a  scientific  point  of  view, 
as  worthy  of  being  studied  as  the  varieties  of  animalcules. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  the  criminal  classes  are  divisible  into  three  distinct  families,  i,e., 
tiie  beggars,  the  cheats,  and  the  thieves. 

Of  the  beggars  there  are  many  distinct  species.  (1.)  The  naval  and  the  military  beggars ; 
as  turnpike  sailors  and  ''raw"  veterans.  (2.)  Distressed  operative  beggars;  as  pretended 
stanred-out  manufiicturers,  or  sham  frozen-out  gardeners,  or  tricky  hand-loom  weavers,  &c. 
(3.)  Bespectable  be^^ars;  as  sham  broken-down  tradesmen,  poor  ushers  or  distressed 
Muthors,  clean  fiunily  beggars,  with  children  in  very  white  pinafores  and  their  faces  cleanly 
washed,  and  the  ashamed  beggars,  who  pretend  to  hide  their  £aoes  with  a  written  petition. 
(4.)  Disaster  beggars;  as  shipwrecked  mariners,  or  blown-up  miners,  or  burnt-out  trades- 
men, and  lucifer  droppers  (5.)  Bodily  afflicted  beggars;  such  as  those  having  real  or 
pretended  sores,  dr  swollen  legs,  or  being  crippled  or  deformed,  maimed,  or  paralyzed,  or 


46  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON, 

else  being  blind,  or  deaf,  or  dumb,  or  subject  to  fits,  or  in  a  decline  and  appearing  with 
bandages  round  the  head,  or  playing  the  **  shallow  coTe>"  «. «.,  appearing  half-dad  in  the 
streets.  (6.)  ramiahed  beggars;  as  those  who  chalk  on  the  payement,  ''I  am  starving," 
or  else  remain  stationary,  and  hold  up  a  piece  of  paper  before  their  &ce  similarly  inscribed. 
(7.)  Foreign  beggars,  who  stop  you  in  the  street,  and  request  to  know  if  you  can  speak  French; 
or  destitute  Poles,  Indians,  or  Lascars,  or  Negroes.  (8.)  Petty  trading  beggars ;  as  tract 
sellers,  lucifer  match  sellers,  boot  lace  venders,  &c.  (9.)  Husical  b^gats ;  or  those  who 
play  on  some  musical  instrument,  as  a  doak  for  begging-— as  scraping  fiddlers,  hurdy-gurdy 
and  clarionet  players.  (10.)  Dependents  of  beggars;  as  screerers  or  the  writers  of  ''slums" 
(letters)  and  ''Miements"  (petitions),  and  referees,  or  those  who  giro  characters  to  profBS* 
sional  beggars. 

The  second  criminal  class  consists  of  cheats,  and  these  are  subdiYisible  into— (1.)  Goyem- 
ment  definuders ;  as  ''jiggers"  (defirauding  the  excise  by  working  illicit  stills),  and  smugglers 
who  defraud  the  customs.  (2.)  Those  who  cheat  the  public ;  as  swindlers,  who  cheat  those 
of  whom  they  buy;  and  duffers  and  horse-chanters,  who  cheat  those  to  whom  they  sell;  and 
" Charley  pitchers,"  or  low  gamblers,  cheating  those  with  whom  they  play;  and  "bouncers 
and  beaters,"  who  cheat  by  laying  wagers ;  and  "  fiat  catchers,"  or  ring-droppers,  who 
cheat  by  pretending  to  find  valuables  in  the  street;  and  bubble-men,  who  institute  sham 
annuity  ofiftces  or  assurance  companies ;  and  douceur-men,  who  cheat  by  pretending  to  get 
government  situations,  or  provide  servants  with  places,  or  to  tell  persons  of  something  to 
their  advantage.  (3.)  The  dependents  of  cheats;  as  "jollies"  and  "magsmen,"  or  the 
confederates  of  other  cheats ;  and  "  bonnets,"  or  those  who  attend  gaming  tables ;  and  referees, 
who  give  false  characters  to  servants. 

The  last  of  the  criminal  classes  are  the  thieves,  who  admit  of  being  classified  as  fol- 
lows:— (1.)  Those  who  plunder  ynih.  violence ;  as  "cracksmen,"  who  break  into  houses; 
"rampsmen,"  who  stop  people  on  the  highway;  "bludgers"  or  "stick  slingers,"  who  rob 
in  company  with  low  women.  (2.)  Those  who  hocus  or  plunder  persons  by  sttipefying;  as 
"  drummers,"  who  drug  liquor ;  and  "bug-hunters,"  who  plunder  drunken  men.  (3.)  Those 
who  plunder  by  sUdUh,  as  (i.)  "mobsmen,"  or  those  who  plunder  by  manual  dexterity,  like 
"  buzzers,"  who  pick  gentlemen's  pockets ;  "wires,"  who  pick  ladies'  pockets ;  "prop-nadlers," 
who  steal  pins  or  brooches;  and  "thumble  screwers,"  who  wrench  off  watches;  and  shoplifters, 
who  purloin  goods  from  shops;  (ii.)  "sneaksmen,"  or  petty  cowardly  thieves,  and  of  these 
there  are  two  distinct  varieties,  according  as  they  sneak  off  with  either  goods  or  animals. 
Belonging  to  the  first  variety,  or  those  who  sneak  off  with  goods,  are  "drag-sneaks,"  who  make 
off  with  goods  from  carts  or  coaches;  "  snoozers,"  who  sleep  at  railway  hotels,  and  make  off 
with  either  apparel  or  luggage  in  the  morning;  " sawney-hunters,"  who  purloin  cheese  or 
bacon  from  cheesemongers'  doors ;  "  noisy  racket  men,"  who  make  off  with  china  or  crockery- 
ware  from  earthenware  shops;  "snow-gatherers,"  who  make  off  with  dean  clothes  from 
hedges;  "cat  and  kitten  hunters,"  who  make  off  with  quart  or  pint  pots  from  area  railings ; 
"area  sneaks,"  who  steal  from  the  area;  " dead-lurkers,"  who  steal  from  the  passages  of 
houses ;  "  till  friskers,"  who  make  off  with  the  contents  of  tills ;  "  bluey-hunters,"  who 
take  lead  from  the  tops  of  houses ;  "  toshers,"  who  purloin  copper  from  ships  and  along 
shore ;  "  star-glazers,"  who  cut  the  panes  of  glass  from  windows ;  "  skinners,"  or  women 
and  boys  who  strip  children  of  their  clothes ;  and  mudlarks,  who  steal  pieces  of  rope,  coal, 
and  wood  from  the  barges  at  the  wharves. 

Those  sneaks-men,  on  the  other  hand,  who  purloin  animals,  are  either  horse-stealers  or 
"wooUy  bird"  (sheep)  stealers,  or  deer-stealers,  or  dog-stealers,  or  poachers,  or  "lady  and 
gentlemen  racket-men,"  who  steal  cocks  and  hens,  or  cat-stealers  or  body  snatchers. 

Then  there  is  still  another  dass  of  plunderers,  who  are  neither  sneaks-men  nor  mobs- 
men, but  simply  breach-of-trust-men,  taking  those  artides  only  which  have  been  confided 
to  them;  iliese  are  either  embezzlers,  who  rob  their  employers;  or  illegal  pawners,  who 


rn 


THE  CONTBASTS  OP  LONDON.  47 

pledge  the  blankets,  Ac.,  at  their  lod^^ngs,  or  the  work  of  their  employers ;  dishonest  ^eryaats, 
who  go  off  with  the  plate,  or  let  robbers  into  their  master's  houses,  biU  stealers,  and  letter 
stealers. 

Bedde  these  there  are  (4)  the  "  %hofid-mmy^  or  those  who  plunder  by  counterfeits ;  as 
coiners  and  forgers  of  checks,  and  notes,  and  wills;  and,  lastly,  we  have  (5)  the  dependents 
of  thieves;  as  ''fences,"  or  receiyers  of  stolen  goods;  and  "smashers,"  or  the  utterers  of 
base  coin. 

Now,  as  regards  the  number  of  this  extensiye  family  of  criminals,  the  return  published 
by  the  Constabulary  Commissioners  is  still  the  best  authority ;  and,  according  to  this,  there 
were  in  the  Metropolis  at  the  time  of  making  the  report,  107  burglars;  110  house- 
breakers; 38  highway  robbers;  773  pickpockets;  3,657  sueaks-men,  or  common  thieyes;  11 
horse-stealers,  and  141  dog-stealers ;  3  forgers;  28  coiners,  and  317  utterers  of  base  coin; 
141  swindlers  or  obtainers  of  goods  under  false  pretences,  and  182  cheats ;  343  receiyers  of 
stolen  goods;  2,768  habitual  rioters ;  1,205  yagrants;  60  begging  letter  writers;  86  bearers 
of  begging  letters,  and  6,871  prostitutes ;  besides  470  not  otherwise  described:  making  alto- 
gether a  total  of  16,900  crimioals  known  to  the  police;  so  that  it  would  appear  that  one 
in  eyery  hundred  and  forty  of  the  London  population  belongs  to  the  criminal  class. 

Further,  the  police  returns  tell  us  the  total  yalue  of  the  property  which  this  large  section 
of  metropolitan  society  are  known  to  make  away  with,  amounts  to  yery  nearly  £42,000  per 

Thus,  in  the  course  of  the  year  1853,  property  to  the  amount  of  £2,854  was  stolen  by 
burglary ;  £135  by  breaking  into  dwelling-houses ;  and  £143  by  breaking  into  shops,  &c. ; 
£1,158  by  embezzlement;  £579  by  forgery;  £1,615  by  £raud;  £46  by  robbery  on  the 
hi^way ;  £250  by  horse  stealing ;  and  £104  by  cattle  stealing;  £78  by  dog  stealing;  £1,249 
by  stealing  goods  exposed  for  sale;  £413  stealing  lead,  &c.,  from,  unfiimished  houses; 
£1597  by  stealing  from  carts  and  carriages ;  £122  by  stealing  linen  exposed  to  dry ;  £421 
by  stealing  poultry  from  an  outhouse ;  £1,888  stolen  from  dwelling-houses  by  means  of  &]se 
keys ;  £2,936  by  lodgers ;  £8,866  by  senrants ;  £4,500  by  doors  being  left  open ;  £2,175  by 
fsiim  messages ;  £2,848  by  lifting  the  window  or  breaking  the  glass ;  £559  by  entry  through 
the  attic  windows  from  an  empty  house;  £795  by  means  unknown;  £3,018  by  picking 
pockets ;  £729  was  taken  from  drunken  persons ;  £48  from  children ;  £2024  by  prostitutes ; 
£418  by  larceny  on  the  riyer — amounting  altogether  to  £41,988 ;  and  this  only  in  those 
robberies  which  became  known  to  the  police. 

Now,  as  there  is  a  market  eyen  for  the  rags  gathered  by  the  bone-grubber,  so  is  there 
an  ''  exchange"  for  the  artiGles  collected  by  the  thieyes.  This  is  the  celebrated  Petticoat 
Lane,  or  IGddlesex  Street,  as  it  is  now  styled,  where  the  Jew  fences  most  do  congregate,  and 
where  all  manner  of  things  are  bought  and  no  questions  asked.  Our  picture  of  the  contrasts 
of  London — of  the  extreme  forms  of  metropolitan  life— would  be  incomplete  without  the 
following  sketch  of  the  place. 

The  antipodes  to  the  fashionable  world  is  Petticoat  Lane,  which  is,  as  it  were,  the  capital 
of  the  MMfashionable  empire — ^the  metropolis  of  the  has-ton.  It  is  to  the  East  End  what 
B^;ent  Street  is  to  the  West. 

Proceeding  up  the  Lane  ftom  Aldgate,  the  localiiy  seems  to  be  hardly  different  from 
other  byeways  in  the  same  district ;  indeed  it  has  much  the  character  of  the  entry  to  Leather 
Lane  out  of  Holbom,  being  narrow  and  dark,  and  flanked  by  shops  which  eyidently  depend 
little  upon  display  for  their  trade.  The  small  strip  of  roadway  as  you  turn  into  the  Lane 
is  generally  blocked  up  by  some  costermonger's  barrow,  with  its  flat  projecting  tray  on  the 
top,  littered  with  little  hard  knubbly-looking  pears,  scarcely  bigger  than  tumip-radishesy 
and  which  is  brought  to  a  dead  halt  eyery  dozen  paces,  while  the  corduroyed  proprietor  pauses 
to  turn  round,  and  roar,  *'  Sixteen  a  penny,  lumping  pears!" 

As  you  worm  your  way  along,  you  pass  little  slits  of  blind  alleys,  with  old  sheets  and 


48  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

patchwork  oonnterpaneB,  like  large  fancy  ohoss-boards,  stretched  to  dry  aoiofls  the  oourt,  and 
hanging  so  still  and  straight  that  you  see  at  a  glance  how  stagnant  the  air  is  in  these 
dismal  quarters.  The  gutters  are  all  grey,  and  bubbling  with  soap-suds,  and  on  the  door- 
steps sit  crouching  flu%-haired  women ;  whilst  at  the  entrance  are  clusters  of  sharp-featured 
boys,  some  in  men's  coats,  with  the  cuSa  turned  half-way  up  the  sleeves,  and  the  tails 
trailing  on  the  stones,  and  others  with  the  end  of  their  trousers  rolled  up,  and  the  waist- 
bands braced  with  string  high  across  their  chests. 

As  you  move  by  them,  you  see  the  pennies  spin  firom  the  midst  of  them  into  the  air,  and 
the  eager  young  group  suddenly  draw  back  and  peer  intently  on  the  ground,  as  the  coins  are 
heard  to  jingle  on  the  stones. 

Up  another  alley  you  catch  sight  of  some  women  engaged  in  scrubbing  an  old  French 
bedstead  that  stretches  half  across  the  court,  while  others  are  busy  beating  the  coffee- 
coloured  mattress  that  leans  against  the  wall,  previous  to  making  its  appearance  at  the 
Aimiture-stall  above.  In  the  opposite  court  may  be  seen  a  newly-opened  barrel  of  pickled 
herrings,  with  the  slimy,  metallic-looking  fish  ranged  like  a  cockade  within;  and  here 
against  the  wall  dangle  the  split  bodies  of  drying  fish — ^hard-looking  '' finny-haddies" 
(Finnan  haddocks),  brown  and  tarry-like  as  a  sailor's  '^  sou' -wester,"  and  seeming  as  if 
they  were  bats  asleep,  as  they  hang  spread  open  in  the  dusky  comers  of  the  place. 

A  little  higher  up,  the  Lane  appears  to  be  devoted  chiefly  to  the  preparation  and  sale  of 
such  eatables  as  the  Israelites  generally  delight  in.  Almost  every  other  shop  is  an  ^'  establish- 
ment" for  the  cooking  and  distribution  of  fried  fish,  the  air  around  being  redolent  of  die  vapours 
of  hot  oil ;  and,  as  you  pass  on  your  way,  you  hear  the  flounders  and  soles  frizzing  in  the  back 
parlours,  whilst  hot-looking  hook-nosed  women  rush  out  with  smoking  frying-pans  in  their 
hands,  their  aprons  stained  with  grease  almost  as  if  they  were  water-proofed  with  it,  and 
their  cheeks  red  and  shiny  as  tinecl-foil  with  the  fire.  The  sloping  shop-boards  here  are 
covered  with  the  dishes  filled  with  the  fresh-cooked  fish,  looking  brown  as  the  bottom  of  a 
newly-sanded  bird-cage ;  by  the  side  of  these  are  ranged  oyster-tubs  filled  with  pickled  cucum- 
bers, the  soft,  swollen  vegetables  floating  in  the  vinegar  like  huge  fat  caterpillars. 

Mingled  with  these  arc  strange-looking  butchers'  shops,  with  small  pieces  of  pale,  blood- 
less meat  dangling  from  the  hooks,  and  each  having  a  curious  tin  ticket,  like  a  metallic  cap- 
sule, fastened  to  it.  This  is  the  seal  of  the  Rabbi,  certifying  that  the  animal  was  slaughtered 
according  to  the  Jewish  rites ;  and  here  are  seen  odd-looking  Hebrew  butchers  and  butcher- 
boys,  with  their  black,  curly  hair,  greasier  even  than  the  locks  of  the  Whiteohapel  IsraeliteB 
on  a  Saturday,  and  speckled  with  bits  of  suet.  Their  faces,  too,  appear,  to  eyes  unused  to  the 
sight,  so  unnaturally  grim  above  their  blue  smocks,  that  they  have  very  much  the  appear- 
ance of  a  small  family  of  0.  Smiths  costumed  for  the  part  in  a  piece  of  Adelphi  diablerie. 

'Not  are  the  bakers'  shops  in  this  locality  of  a  less  peculiar  or  striking  cast ;  for  here  the 
heads  and  eyebrows  of  the  Hebrew  master  bakers  are  unnaturally  white  with  the  flour,  and 
give  them  the  same  grotesque  look  as  would  characterize  a  powdered  Jew  footman  in  the 
upper  circles ;  while  among  the  loaves  and  bags  of  flour  in  the  shop,  you  often  catch  sight  of 
dusty,  thin,  passover  biscuits,  nearly  as  big  as  targets. 

As  you  proceed  up  the  Lane,  the  trade  of  the  place  assumes  a  totally  different  character ; 
there  the  emporia  of  fried  fish,  and  butcher's  meat,  and  pickled  cucumbers  pass  into  petty 
marts  for  old  furniture  and  repositories  of  second-hand  tools.  Now,  in  front  of  one  shop, 
you  see  nothing  but  old  foot-rules  and  long  carpenters'  planes,  all  ranged  in  straight  lines 
and  shiny  and  yellow  with  recent  bees- wax.  Behind  the  trellis  of  tools,  too,  you  occasionally 
catch  sight  of  the  figure  of  a  man  engaged  in  poHshing-up  the  handle  of  an  old  centre-bit,  or 
scouring  away  at  the  rusty  blade  of  some  second-hand  saw. 

The  pavement  in  front  of  the  fiimiture-shops  is  littered  with  old  deal  chairs  and  tables ; 
and  imitation  chests  of  drawers  with  the  fronts  removed,  and  showing  the  coarse  brown- 
paper-like  sacking  of  the  douhled-up  bed  within ;  and  huge  unwieldy  sofas  are  there  witli  a 
kind  of  canvas  tank  sunk  under  the  scat,  and  reminding  one  of  those  odd-looking  carta  in 


J 


THE  CONTBASTS  OF  LONDOJBT.  51 

which  the  load  is  placed  below  the  axle  of  the  wheels.  Ab  yon  pass  along  the  line  of 
lumbered-up  shops^  yoa  discover  vistas  of  corioxiB  triangular  cupboards ;  bulky,  square-looking 
ann-chairs  in  their  canvas  undress ;  narrow  brown  tables,  with  semicircular  flaps  hanging  et 
their  sides,  and  quaint  oval  looking-glasses ;  and  yellow-painted  bamboo  chairs,  with  the 
Toahes  showing  nndemeath,  as  ragged  as  an  old  fish-basket ;  while  the  floor  is  encumbered 
with  feather  beds,  doubled  np,  and  looking  like  lumps  of  dirty  dough. 

Adjoining  the  old  ^imiture-shops  are  second-hand  clothes  marts,  with  the  entire  fronts  of 
the  shops  covered  ontside  with  rows  of  old  fristian  trousers,  washed  as  white  as  the  inside  of 
a  fresh  hide,  and  with  tripey  corduroys,  and  flu%  carpenters'  flannel  jackets ;  t^e  door-posts, 
moreover,  are  decked  with  faded  gaudy  waistcoats,  ornamented  with  fmcy  buttons,  that 
have  much  the  appearance  of  small  brandy-balls. 

.  A  few  paces  further  on,  you  come  to  a  hatter's,  with  the  men  at  work  in  the  shop,  their 
irons,  heavy  as  the  sole  of  a  dub-boot,  standing  on  the  counter  by  their  side,  and  the  place 
filled  with  varnished  brown  paper  hat-shapes,  that  seem  as  if  they  had  been  modelled  in 
hard-bake. 

Nor  are  the  Jewesses  of  Petticoat  Lane  the  least  remarkable  of  the  characters  appertaining 
to  the  place.  In  front  of  almost  every  doorway  is  seated  some  fSat  Hebrew  woman,  with 
gold  ear-rings  dangling  by  her  neck,  as  big  as  a  chandelier  drop,  and  her  fingers  hooped  with 
tMck  gold  rings.  Some  of  the  ladies  are  rubbing  up  old  brass  candlesticks,  and  some 
soouiing  old  tarnished  tea-kettles,  their  hands  and  £aces,  amidst  all  their  finery,  begrimed 
with  dirt.  In  one  part  of  the  Lone,  you  behold  one  of  the  women  with  a  bunch  of  bright 
blue  artificial  flowers  in  her  cap,  as  big  as  the  nosegays  with  which  coachmen  delight  to 
decorate  their  horses'  heads  on  the  1st  of  May,  busy  extracting  the  grease  from  the  collar  of 
a  threadbare  surtout;  in  another  part  you  may  perceive  an  Israelite  maiden,  almost  as 
grubby  and  tawdry  as  My  Lady  on  May  Day,  engaged  in  the  act  of  blacking  a  pair  of  high- 
lows;  while  at  the  door  of  some  rag  and  bottle  warehouse,  where,  from  the  poverty-stricken 
aspect  of  the  place,  you  would  imagine  that  the  people  could  hardly  be  one  week's  remove 
from  the  workhouse,  you  see  some  grand  lady  with  a  lace-edged  parasol  in  her  white- 
kidded  hand,  and  a  bright  green  and  red  cashmere  shawl  spread  out  over  her  back,  taking 
leave  of  her  greasy-looking  daughters,  previous  to  emerging  into  all  the  elegancies  of 
Aldgate. 

Were  it  not  for  such  curious  sights  as  the  above,  it  would  be  difUcult  to  accoimt  for  that 
strange  medley  of  want  and  luxury — ^that  incongruous  association  of  the  sale  of  jewellery  and 
artificial  flowers,  with  that  of  old  clothes,  rags,  and  old  metal,  which  constitutes,  perhaps, 
one  of  the  most  startling  features  of  Petticoat  Lane. 

**  How  is  it,"  the  mind  naturally  inquires,  "  that,  in  a  place  where  the  people  who  come 
to  seU  or  buy  are  among  the  very  poorest  in  the  land,  there  can  be  the  least  demand  for  such 
trumpery  as  rii^,  brooches,  and  artificial  roses  ?  Does  the  bone-grubber  who  rummages 
the  muck-heaps  for  some  bit  of  rag,  or  metal,  that  wUl  help  to  bring  him  a  few  pence  at  the 
day's  end — does  he  feast  on  fried  fish  and  pickled  cucumbers  ?  Is  he,  poor  wretch !  who 
cannot  even  get  bread  enough  to  stay  his  cravings,  the  piurchaser  of  the  hal^enny  ices  ?  Are 
the  fatty  cakes  made  for  them  who  come  here  to  sell  the  shirt  off  their  backs  for  a  meal?" 

Yeiily,  the  luxuries  and  the  finery  are  not  for  such  as  these ;  but  for  those  who  live,  and 
trade,  and  fatten  upon  the  misery  of  the  poor  and  the  vice  of  the  criminal. 

If  all  the  old  rags  and  clothes,  and  tools  and  beds  in  Petticoat  Lane,  had  tongues,  what 
stories  of  unknown  sufiSeiings  or  in&tuate  vice  would  they  not  tell !  In  those  old  tool  shops 
alone  what  volumes  of  silent  misery  are  there  not  contained !  They  who  know  what  a 
mechanic  wiQ  suffer  before  he  parts  with  the  implements  of  his  trade — ^who  know  how  ho 
will  pawn  or  sell  every  valuable,  however  useful,  make  away  with  every  relic,  however  much 
prized,  before  he  is  driven  to  dispose  of  those  implements  which  are  another  pair  of  hands  to 
him,  and  without  which  it  is  impossible  for  him  to  get  either  work  or  bread — those  who 
4' 


62  THE  GBEAT  WOItLD  OF  LONDON. 

know  this,  and  know  AirtliCT  how  a  long  illness,  a  ferer,  laying  prostxate  a  working  man's 
whole  family,  and  brought  on,  most  probably,  by  living  in  some  cheap,  dose,  pent-up  court,  will 
compel  a  poor  fellow  to  part,  bit  by  bit,  with  each  little  piece  of  property  that  he  has  accumu- 
lated out  of  his  earnings  when  in  health  and  strength — how  his  watch,  as  well  as  the 
humble  trinkets  of  his  wife,  will  go  first  to  get  the  necessary  food  or  physic  for  them  all — 
how  the  extra  suit  of  Sunday  clothes,  and  the  one  silk  gown,  and  the  thick  warm  shawl  are 
parted  with  next — how,  affc^  this,  the  blankets  and  under-clothing  of  the  wife  and  children, 
disappear,  one  by  one,  for  though  they  shiver  in  the  streets,  at  least  no  one  tees  how  thinly 
they  are  clad,  or  hnow%  how  cold  they  lie  at  night — ^how  then  the  bedding  is  sold  from  under 
them  to  keep  them  a  few  days  longer  from  the  dreaded  poor-house — and  how,  last  of  all, 
when  wife  and  children  are  stripped  nearly  naked,  when  the  man  has  sold  the  shirt  frx>m. 
his  back  to  stay  the  cravings  of  his  little  ones,  when  they  have  nothing  but  the  boards  to  lie 
upon — ^how  thenf  and  not  tiU  then,  the  planes  and  saws  and  centre-bits  are  disposed  of,  and 
each  with  the  same  pang  too,  as  if  the  right  hand  of  the  man  was  being  cut  from  him — those, 
we  say,  who  know  the  sufferings  which  have  preceded  the  sale  of  many  of  these  implements 
— ^who  know,  too,  the  despair  which  fills  the  mind  of  a  working  man  as  he  sees  his  only 
means  of  independence  wrested  ftom  him,  will  not  pass  the  old  tool  shops  in  Petticoat  Lane 
idly  by,  but  rather  read  in  each  wretched  article  some  sad  tale  of  humble  misery. 

StiU  o/^  the  tools  are  not  there  frx>m  such  a  cause;  no!  nor  half  of  them;  perhaps  the  greater 
part  would  be  found,  if  the  matter  were  opened  up,  to  have  been  disposed  of  for  drink — ^by 
fatuous  sots,  who  first  swilled  themselves  out  of  work,and  then  guzzled  away  now  a  plane 
and  now  a  saw,  raising  first  a  glass  on  this  to  stay  the  trembling  of  the  hand  in  the  morning, 
and  then  a  drop  on  that  to  keep  down  the  "  horrors" — ^until  at  length  nothing  remained  but 
''  the  house,''  or  street-cadging  and  lying,  as  the  broken-down  mechanic. 

But  are  we  all  so  iounaculate  that  we  have  no  sympathy  but  for  the  dewrmng  poor.  Is 
our  pity  limited  merely  to  those  only  who  suffer  the  least,  because  they  suffer  with  an 
unaccusing  conscience ;  and  must  we  entirely  shut  out  from  our  commiseration  the  wretch 
who  is  tormented  not  only  with  hunger,  but  with  the  self-reproaches  of  his  own  bosom. 
Granting  that  this  cast-iron  philosophy  is  right  and  good  for  socieiy,  shall  not  the  thought 
of  the  suffering  wife  and  children,  even  of  the  drunkard  and  the  trickster,  move  us  to  the 
least  tenderness  ? 

"  How  long,"  Ihe  thoughtful  traveller  will  wonder  to  himself,  as  he  continues  his  journey 
moumfdlly  up  the  Lane,  "  did  the  family  go  without  food  before  that  bed  was  brought  here  for 
sale  ?  Those  fustian  and  flannel  jackets,  what  sad  privations  were  experienced  by  their  former 
owners,  ere  they  were  forced  to  take  them  off  their  backs  to  raise  a  meal  ?  What  is  the 
wretched  history  of  those  foot-rules  and  chisels  ?  How  long  did  the  littie  ones  starve  before 
that  pair  of  baby's  boots  were  stripped  from  the  tiny  feet  and  sold  for  a  bite  and  a  sup — ay,  or 
if  you  will,  Mr.  Puritan,  for  another  glass  of  gin?  Did  the  parting  with  those  wedding 
rings  cost  more  or  less  agony  of  body  ?  Where  is  the  owner  of  the  little  boots  now  f  In  a 
workhouse,  or  walking  the  streets  with  gayer  boots  than  ever  ? 

''  That  silk  pocket  handkerchief,  too— the  one  in  which  we  can  just  see  where  the  mark 
has  been  picked  from  the  comer — what  is  the  story  in  connection  with  it  ?  Is  the  lad  who 
stole  it,  and  who  sold  it  to  the  Jew  there  for  not  one-fourth  the  sum  that  it  is  now  ticketed  at 
— ^is  he  at  the  hulks  yet  ^  Was  he  one  out  of  the  many  families  that  have  been  turned  into 
the  streets,  on  the  breaking  up  of  the  hundred  homes  to  which  these  piles  of  old  furniture 
belonged  ?  Or  was  he  wilfully  bad—one  of  those  that  Mr.  Carlyle  would  have  shot,  and 
swept  into  the  dust  bin." 

Yonder,  at  the  comer  of  one  of  the  courts  higher  up  the  Lane,  is  a  group  of  eager  lads 
peeping  over  the  shoulders  of  one  another,  while  one  shows  some  silver  spoons. 

The  Jew  who  buys  them  is  a  regular  attendant  at  synagogue,  and  wears  the  laws  of 
Moses  next  his  skm     But  he  asks  no  questions,  and  has  a  cmcible  always  ready  on  the  fire. 


THE  LONDON  STEEETS.  53 

IBs  daoghiers  are  like  Indian  idola — all  gold  and  dirt  now,  but  next  Satorday  you  ahall  see 
them  paiading  Aldgate  in  the  highest  style  of  fashion.  The  old  man  has  no  end  of  money 
to  leave  Bath  and  Bachel,  when  he  dies  and  is  gathered — as  he  hopes  to  be — ^to  the  bosom 
of  Abraham. 

Now,  sapient  reader,  you  can  guess,  perhaps,  who  it  is  that  buys  the  artificial  flowers,  and 
12ie  fried  fish,  and  the  jewellery  that  you  see  exposed  among  the  old  tools  and  dothes  and 
fumitnre  in  Petticoat  Lane. 


§6. 
OP  THE  LONDON  STBEETS,  THEIE  TRAFFIC,  NAMES,  AND  OHAEACTEB. 

The  thorough£ures  of  London  constitute,  assuredly,  the  finest  and  most  remarkable  of  all 
the  fflghts  that  London  contains.  Not  that  this  is  due  to  their  architectural  display,  eyen 
though  at  the  West  End  there  are  streets  which  are  long  lines  of  palaces — such  as  Pall  Hall, 
with  its  stately  array  of  club-houses — and  Begent  Street,  where  the  fironts  of  each  distinct 
block  of  buildings  are  united  so  as  to  form  one  imposing  facade,  and  where  every  fagade  is 
difiiorent,  so  thai^  as  we  walk  along,  a  kind  of  architectural  panorama  glides  before  the  eye — 
and  Belgravia  and  Tybumia,  where  the  squares  and  terraces  are  vast  palatial  colonies.  Nor 
yet  is  it  due  to  the  magnificence  of  its  shops — ^those  crystal  storehouses  of  which  the  sheets  of 
glass  are  like  sheets  of  the  clearest  lake  ice,  both  in  their  dimensions  and  transparency,  and 
gorgeous  with  the  display  of  the  richest  products  in  the  world.  Nor  yet,  again,  is  it  owing 
to  the  capacious  Docks  at  the  East  End  of  the  Metropolis,  where  the  surrounding  streets  have 
all  the  nautical  oddness  of  an  amphibious  Dutch  town,  from  the  mingling  of  the  many  mast- 
heads with  the  chimney-pots,  and  where  the  sense  of  the  immensity  of  the  aggregate 
merchant-wealth  is  positiYely  oYeipoweiing  to  contemplate.  Neither  is  it  owing  to  the 
broad  green  parks,  that  are  so  many  bright  snatches  of  the  country  scattered  round  the 
smoke-dried  city,  and  where  the  verdure  of  the  fields  is  rendered  doubly  gratefdl,  not  only 
from  their  contrast  with  the  dense  rusty-red  mass  of  bricks  and  mortar  with  which  they  are 
encompassed,  but  fix)m  being  vast  aerial  reservoirs — ^great  sylvan  tanks,  as  it  were,  of 
oxygen — ^for  the  supply  of  health  and  spirits  to  the  waUed-in  multitude.  But  these  same 
London  thoroughfares  are,  simply,  the  finest  of  all  sights — in  the  world,  we  may  say— on 
account  of  the  never-ending  and  infinite  variety  of  life  to  be  seen  in  them. 

Beyond  doubt,  the  enormous  multitudes  ever  pouring  through  the  principal  metropolitan 
thorough^ires  strike  the  first  deep  impression  upon  the  stranger's  mind ;  and  we  ourselves 
never  contemplate  the  tumultuous  scene  without  feeling  that  here  lies  the  true  grandeur  of 
the  Capital — ^the  one  distinctive  mark  that  gives  a  special  sublimity  to  the  spot. 

Travellers  speak  of  the  awfiil  magnificence  of  the  great  torrent  of  Niagara,  where 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  tons  of  liquid  are  ever  pouring  over  the  rocks  in  one  iinmense, 
terrific  flood.  But  what  is  this  in  grandeur  to  the  vast  human  tide — the  stupendous  Hving 
torrent  of  thousands  upon  thousands  of  restless  souls,  each  quickened  with  some  different 
purpose,  and  for  ever  rushing  along  the  great  leading  thoroughfares  of  the  Metropolis  i  what 
the  aggregate  power  of  the  greatest  cataract  in  the  world  to  the  united  might  of  the  several 
emotions  and  wiUs  stirring  each  of  the  homuncular  atoms  composing  that  dense  human 
stream.  And  if  the  roar  of  the  precipitated  waters  bewilders  and  affiights  the  mind,  assuredly 
the  riot  and  tumult  of  the  traffic  of  London  at  once  stun  and  terrify  the  brain  of  those  who 
hear  it  for  the  first  time. 

There  is  no  scene  in  the  wide  world,  indeed,  equal  in  grandeur  to  the  contemplation  of 
the  immensity  of  this  same  London  traffic.  Can  the  masses  of  the  pyramids  impress  the  mind 
with  such  an  overwhelming  sense  of  labour  and  everlastingness  as  is  inspired  by  the  appa* 


54  THE  6KEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON 

rently  nerer-ending  and  never-tinng  indusiiy  of  the  masses  of  people  in  our  streets?  If 
the  desert  be  the  yery  intensity  of  the  sublime  firom  the  feeling  of  tragic  loneliness — of 
terrible  isolation  that  it  induces — ^from  the  awfol  solemnity  of  the  great  ocean  of  desolation 
encompassing  the  trayeUer ;  surely  this  monster  Metropolis  is  equally  sublime,  though  from 
the  opposite  cause — ^from  the  sense  of  the  infinite  multitude  of  people  with  which  we  are 
surrounded,  and  yet  of  our  comparatiye,  if  not  absolute,  Mendlessness  and  isolation  in  thie 
yery  midst  of  such  an  infinite  multitude. 

Is  there  any  other  sight  in  the  Metropolis,  moreoyer,  so  thoroughly  Zondonesque  as  this 
is  in  its  character  ?  Will  our  Law  Courts,  though  justice  be  dispensed  there  with  a  fairness 
and  eyen  mercy  to  the  accused,  that  is  utterly  unknown  in  other  lands,  giye  the  foreigner 
as  liyely  an  idea  of  the  genius  of  our  people  ?  Will  our  Houses  of  Parliament,  where  the 
poHcy  of  eyery  new  law  is  discussed  by  the  national  lepresentatiyes  with  an  honesty  and 
freedom  impossible  to  be  met  with  in  the  Chambers  of  other  States,  show  him  so  much 
of  our  character?  Will  the  stranger  be  so  astounded  eyen  at  the  internal  economy  of 
our  great  newspaper  printing-offices,  where  the  intelligence  of  the  entire  world  is  focussed, 
as  it  were,  into  one  enormous  daily  sheet,  that  is  fiUed  with  finer  essays  than  any  to  be  found 
in  ''  the  British  Classics,''  and  printed  fBX  more  elegantly  than  library  books  on  the  Continent^ 
— eyen  though  the  greater  portion  of  the  matter  has  been  written,  and  the  million  bits  of 
type  composing  it  haye  been  picked  up,  in  the  course  of  the  preceding  night  ?  Or  will  our 
leyiathan  breweries,  or  our  races,  or  our  cattle-shows,  or  cricket  matches,  or,  indeed,  any  of 
the  institutions,  or  customs,  or  enterprises  pecuHar  to  the  land,  sink  so  deeply  into  the 
stranger's  mind  as  the  contemplation  of  the  seyeral  miles  of  crowd — ^the  long  and  dense 
commercial  train  of  men  and  yehides  each  day  flooding  the  leading  thorough£Eires  of  this 
giant  city ! 

Let  tiie  yisitor  from  some  quiet  country  or  foreign  town  behold  the  city  at  fiye  in  the  day, 
and  see  the  people  crowding  the  great  lines  of  streets  like  a  flock  of  sheep  in  a  narrow  lane ; 
and  the  conyeyances,  too,  packed  full  of  human  beings,  and  jammed  as  compactiy  together 
as  the  stones  on  the  paying  beneath,  and  find,  moreoyer — go  which  way  he  will — ^the  same 
black  multitude  peryading  tiie  thoroughfiares  almost  as  far  as  he  can  trayel  before  nightfall — 
behold  eyery  one  of  the  ciyic  arteries  leading  to  the  mighty  heart  of  London,  chaiged  with 
its  thousands  of  human  globules,  all  busy,  as  they  circulate  through  them,  sustaining  the  life 
and  energy  and  well-being  of  the  land ;  and  assuredly  he  will  allow  that  the  world  has  no 
wonder — amongst  the  whole  of  its  far-£uned  seyen — ^in  the  least  comparable  to  this. 

Let  us  now,  howeyer,  descend  to  particulars,  and  endeayour  to  set  forth  the  actual 
amount  of  traffic  going  on  through  the  leading  London  thoroughfares. 

By  a  return  which  was  kindly  fiimished  to  us  by  Mr.  Haywood,  the  City  Suryeyor,  we 
are  enabled  to  come  at  this  point  with  greater  accuracy  than  might  be  imagined.  The 
return  of  which  we  speak  was  of  a  yery  elaborate  character,  and  specified  not  only  the  total 
number  of  yehides  drawn  by  one  horse,  as  well  as  two,  three,  or  more  horses,  that  passed  oyer 
24  of  the  principal  City  thoroughfiares  in  the  course  of  twdye  hours,  but  also  set  forth  the 
number  of  each  kind  of  conyeyance  trayersing  the  city  for  eyery  hour  throughout  the  day. 

By  means  of  this  table,  then,  we  find  there  are  two  tides,  as  it  were,  in  the  daily  stream 
of  locomotion  flowing  through  the  city— -the  one  coming  to  its  highest  point  at  eleyen  in 
the  forenoon,  up  to  which  time  the  number  of  yehides  gradually  increases,  and  so  rapidly, 
too,  that  there  are  yery  nearly  twice  as  many  conyeyances  in  the  streets  at  deyen,  as  there 
are  at  nine  o'dock  in  the  morning.  After  eleyen  o'clock  the  tide  of  the  traffic,  howeyer, 
begins  to  ebb— the  number  of  carriages  gradually  decreasing,  till  two  in  the  afternoon,  when 
there  is  one-sixth  less  yehides  in  the  leading  thoroughfiures  than  at  deyen.  After  two,  again, 
another  change  occurs,  and  the  crowd  of  conyeyances  continues  to  increase  in  number  till  flye 
o'clock,  when  there  are  a  few  hundreds  more  collected  within  the  city  boundaries  than  there 


THE  LONDON  STREETS;  56 

were  at  elefven.  After  five,  the  locomotive  current  ebbs  once  more,  and  does  not  attain  its 
next  flood  until  eleven  the  next  day. 

Now,  by  this  return  it  is  shown,  that  the  gross  number  of  vehicles  passing  along  the  City 
fiioroughfares,  in  the  course  of  twelve  hours,  ordinarily  amounts  to  one-eighth  of  a  million, 
or  upwards  of  125,000.*  But  many  of  these,  it  should  be  added,  are  reckoned  more  than  once 
in  the  statement ;  if,  however,  we  sum  up  only  the  number  appearing  in  the  distinct  lines  of 
thoroughfares — ^like  Holbom,  Fleet  Street,  Leadenhall  Street,  Blackfiriars  Bridge,  Bishopsgate 
Street,  Finsbury  I^avement,  &c. — ^the  amount  of  city  traffic,  wiU.  even  then  reach  nearly 
60,000  vehicles,  passing  and  re-passing  through  the  slreets  every  day. 

Now,  that  this  estimate  is  not  very  wide  of  the  truth,  is  proven  by  the  fact,  that  there 
are  no  less  than  3000  cabs  plying  in  London  streets ;  nearly  1000  omnibuses ;  and  more  than 
10,000  jnivate  and  job. carriages  and  carts,  belonging  to  various  individuals  throughout  the 
Metropolis  (as  is  shown  by  the  returns  of  the  Stamp  and  Tax  Office).  Moreover,  it  is 
calculated,  that  some  3000  conveyances  enter  the  Metropolis  daily  from  the  surrounding 
country ;  whilst  the  amount  of  mileage  duty  paid  by  the  Metropolitan  Stage  Carriages,  in 
the  year  1853,  prove  that  the  united  London  omnibuses'  and  short  stages  must  have  travelled 
orver  not  less  than  21,800,000  miles  of  ground  in  the  course  of  that  year — a  distance  which  is 
very  nearly  equal  to  one-fourth  that  of  the  earth  from  the  sun ! 

Hence,  it  will  appear  that  the  above  estimate,  as  to  the  number  of  vehicles  passing  and 
repassing  through  the  City  streets  every  day,  does  not  exceed  the  bounds  of  reason. 

But  the  thoroughfjEires  within  the  City  boundaries  are  not  Qne*thirtieth  of  the  length  of 
those  without  them ;  and  as  there  are  two  distinct  lines  of  streets,  traversing  London  from 
east  to  west,  each  six  miles  long,  and  at  least  four  distinct  highways,  stretching  north  and 
■oath,  each  four  miles  in  length  at  least ;  whilst  along  each  and  all  of  these  a  dense  stream 
of  foot  passengers  and  conveyances  is  maintained  throughout  the  day ;  it  wiU  therefore  be 
finmd,  by  calculation,  that  at  five  o'clock,  when  almost  every  one  of  these  thoroughfares  may 
be  said  to  be  positively  crowded  with  the  traffic,  that  there  is  a  dense  stream  of  omnibuses, 
cabs,  carta,  and  carriages,  as  well  as  foot  passengers,  fiowing  through  London  at  one  and  the 
same  time,  that  is  near  upon  30  miles  long  altogether ! 

TV^e  have  before  spoken  of  the  prodigious  length  of  the  aggregate  streets  and  lanes  of  tlie 
Metropolis,  and  a  peep  at  the  balloon  map  of  Londonf  will  convince  the  stranger  what  a 
tangled  knot  of  highways  and  byeways  is  the  town.   A  plexus  of  nerves  or  capillary  vessels  is 

*  The  foBowing  are  the  data  for  the  abore  statement : — 
Bxruay,  SHowizfo  thb  totai.  mncBBa  of  vbhiglbb  passing  in  tkb  oovbsb  or  twzlvb  houbs   (tbox 

KINS  A.1C    TO  MINB  P.M.)   TH&OUOH  THB  PBINCIPAL  8TBBBT8   OP  THB  CITT  OP  LONDON. 


Lower  Thames  Street,  by  Botolph  Iione      .  1,380 

Tbreadneedle  Street 2,150 

Lombard  Street,  by  Bircbin  Lane       .        .  2,228 

Upper  Thames  Street  (in  rear  of  Queen  Street)  2,331 

AMgragate  Street,  by  Fann  Street  .  2,690 

Tower  Street,  by  HazkLaiM      •  .  2,890 

SmithfieldBan 3,108 

Fencharch  Street 3,642 

Eastcheap,  by  Philpot  Lane                         .  4,102 
Biahopagate  Street  Without,  by  City  boun- 
dary         4,110 

Finabmy  Pavement,  by  South  Place  .  4,460 

Aldgate  High  Street,  by  City  boundary      .  4,764 
Bishopsgate  Street  Within,  by  Great  St 

Helen's 4,842 

T  An  excellent  map  of  the  kind  aboye  specified  is  published  by  Appleyard  and  Hetling  of  Farringdon 
SCMeC,  and  it  will  be  found  to  be  more  easily  comprehensible  to  strangers  than  the  ordinary  ground-plans  of 

tho  IxmdOD  StlMtik 


Gracechurch  Street,  by  St  Peter's  Alley  .  4,887 
Comhill,  by  the  Royal  Exchange        .        .    4,916 

Blackfnars  Bridge 6,262 

Leadenhall  Street,  in  rear  of  the  East  India 

House    ...  ...    5,930 

Newgate  Street,  by  Old  Bailey  .        .        .    6,875 
Ludgate  Hill,  by  Pilgrim  Street  .    6,829 

Holbom  Hill,  by  St.  Andrew's  Church        .    6,906 
Temple  Bar  Gate        .....    7,741 

Poultry,  by  the  Mansion  House  .  •  10,274 
Cheapside,  by  Foster  Lane  •  11,053 
London  Bridge 18,099 


ToUl    ....  125,859 


66  THE  GBEAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 

not  more  iniaicate  than  they.  As  well  might  we  seek  to  find  order  and  fiyBtematio  azrange- 
ment  among  a  ball  of  worms  as  in  that  conglomeration  of  thoronghfEures  constitating  the 
British  Metropolis. 

'<I  began  to  study  the  Map  of  London/'  says  Southey,  in  his  Espriella's  Letters,  ''thongh 
dismayed  at  the  sight  of  its  prodigious  extent.  The  riyer  is  of  no  assistance  to  a  stranger  in 
finding  his  way;  there  is  no  street  along  its  banks;  nor  is  there  any  eminence  whence  you  can 
look  around  and  take  your  bearings." 

But  the  nomenclature  of  the  London  streets  is  about  as  unsystematic  as  is  the  general  plan 
of  the  thoroughfares,  and  cannot  but  be  extremely  puzzling  to  the  stranger.  Every  one  knows 
how  the  Frenchman  was  perplexed  with  the  hundred  significations  given  to  the  English  term 
**  box" — such  as  band-box,  Christmaa-box,  coach-box,  box  on  the  ears,  shooting-box,  box-tree, 
private  box,  the  wrong  box,  boxing  the  compass,  and  a  boxing  match.  And,  assuredly, 
he  must  be  equally  bothered  on  finding  the  same  name  appHed  to  some  score  or  two  of 
different  thoroughfares,  that  are  often  so  far  apart,  that,  if  he  happen  to  be  the  bearer  of  a 
letter  of  introduction  with  the  address  of  '*£ing  Street,  London"  the  unhappy  wight  would 
probably  be  driven  about  from  district  to  district— from  King  Street,  Golden  Square,  maybe, 
to  King  street,  Cheapside,  and  then  back  again  to  King  Street,  Covent  Garden — and  so  on 
until  he  had  tried  the  whole  of  the  forty-two  King  Streets  that  are  now  set  down  in  the 
Post-office  Directory. 

%  i.  0/the  Nmenelature  of  the  London  Streets. 

A  painstaking  friend  of  ours  has,  at  our  request,  been  at  the  trouble  of  clasafying  the 
various  thorough&res  of  London,  and  he  finds  that  of  the  streets,  squares,  terraces,  &c., 
bearing  a  loyal  title,  there  are  no  less  than  seveniy-three  christened  King,  seventy-eight 
Queen,  foriy-two  called  Prince's,  and  four  Princess's;  tweniy-six  styled  Duke,  one  Diichess, 
and  twenty-eight  having  the  title  of  Begent ;  while  there  are  thirty-one  Grown  Streets,  or 
Courts,  and  one  Eegina  YiUa. 

Then  many  thoroughfares  are  named  after  the  titles  of  nobles.  Thus  there  are  no  less  than 
eighty-nine  localities  called  York,  after  the  Duke  of  ditto ;  fifty-eight  entitled  Gloucester; 
forty-four  Brunswick,  in  honour  of  that  **  house ;"  thirty-nine  Bedford,  thirty-five  Devon- 
shire, thirty-six  Portland,  thirty-four  Cambridge,  twenty-eight  Lansdowne,  twenty-seven 
Montague,  twenty-six  Cumberland,  twenty-two  Claremont  and  Clarence,  twenty  Clarendon, 
twenty-three  Eussell,  twenty-one  Norfolk — ^besides  many  other  highways  or  byewaya  styled 
Cavendish,  or  Cecil,  or  Buckingham^  or  Northumberland,  or  Stanhope. 

Next,  in  illustration  of  the  principle  of  h&to-worship,  there  are  fifty-two  thorough&ies 
called  after  "Wellington,  twenty-nine  after  Marlborough,  and  eleven  after  Nelson;  there  are, 
moreover,  twenty  styled  "Waterloo,  and  fifteen  Trafelgar,  thirteen  Blenheim,  one  Boyne, 
and  three  Navarino;  whilst,  in  honour  of  Prime  Ministers,  there  are  six  localities  called  after 
Pitt,  two  after  Pox,  and  three  after  Canning;  in  celebration  of  Lord  Chancellors,  five  ate  named 
Eldon ;  for  Politicians,  one  Place  is  styled  Cobden,  and  two  streets  Burdett ;  and  to  commemo- 
rate the  name  of  great  poets  and  philosophers,  there  is  one  Shakespeare's  Walk  (at  Shadwell), 
one  Ben  Jensen's  Fields,  eight  Milton  Streets,  and  seven  thoroughfares  bearing  the  name  of 
Addison,  and  one  that  of  Cato. 

Of  the  number  of  thoroughfiEures  called  by  simple  Christian  names,  the  following  are 
the  principal  examples :— There  are  fifty-eight  localities  known  aa  George,  forty  christened 
Victoria,  forty-three  Albert,  and  eight  Adelaide.  Then  there  are  forty-seven  Johns,  forty- 
nine  Charleses,  thirty-five  Jameses,  thirty-three  Edwards,  thirty  Alfreds,  tweniy  Charlottes, 
and  flio  same  number  of  Elizabeths  and  Fredericks,  together  with  a  small  number  of 
Boberts,  and  Anns,  and  Peters,  and  Pauls,  and  Adams,  and  Amelias,  and  Marys,  beside 
•eight  King  Edwards,  two  King  Williams,  one  King  John,  and  one  Kitig  Henry. 


THE  LOimON  STBEET8.  57 

Many  streets,  on  flie  other  hand,  bear  the  tumamss  of  thdr  builders  or  landlords;  and, 
accordingly,  we  haye  seyeral  thoronghfiares  rejoicing  in  tho  iUnstrions  names  of  Smith  or 
Baker,  or  Newman,  or  Perry,  or  Nicholas,  or  Milman,  or  Warren,  or  Leigh,  or  Beaofoy,  and 
indeed  one  locality  bearing  the  euphonious  title  of  Bngsby's  Beach. 

£M^un»8  titles,  again,  are  not  nnoommon.  Not  only  have  we  the  celebrated  Paternoster 
Bow,  and  Aye-Mazia  Lane,  and  Amen  Comer,  and  Adam  and  Eve  Court,  but  there  are  ALL 
HaBowB  Chambers,  and  a  number  of  Proyidence  Bows  and  Streets.  M oreoycr,  there  is  a 
large  &mily  called  either  Church  or  Chapel,  besides  a  Bishop's  Walk,  a  Dean's  Yard,  and 
a  Mitre  Court,  together  with  not  a  few  christened  College  or  Abbey ;  whilst  thero  is  a 
Tabernacle  Bow,  Square,  and  Walk,  as  well  as  a  well-known  Worship  Street,  and  no  less 
tiiaa  twenty  distinct  places  bearing  the  name  of  Trinity,  as  well  as  two  large  districts  styled 
Whitefinars  and  Black&iars,  and  a  bevy  of  streets  called  after  the  entire  calendar  of  Saints, 
together  with  a  posse  of  Angel  Courts  and  Lanes. 

Other  places,  on  the  contrary,  delight  in  Pagan  tities;  for  in  the  suburbs  we  find  two 
Neptune  Streets,  four  Ifinerva  Terraces,  two  Apollo  Buildings,  one  Diana  Place,  a  Hermes 
Street,  and  a  Biercules  Passage;  besides  seyeral  streets  dedicated  to  England's  m3rthological 
patroness,  Britannia,  and  some  half-dozen  roads,  or  cottages,  or  places,  glorying  in  the  tide 
of  the  imaginary  Scotch  goddess,  Caledonia.  The  same  patriotic  spirit  seems  to  make  the 
name  of  Albion  yery  popular  among  the  god&thers  or  godmothers  of  thoroughfeores,  for 
there  are  no  less  than  some  fifty  buLLdings,  chambers,  cottages,  groyes,  mews,  squares,  &c., 
rejoicing  in  the  national  cognomen. 

Further,  there  is  a  large  number  of  MtranamieaUjf'named  highways,  such  as  those  called 
Sun  Street  or  Sols'  Bow,  or  Half-Moon  Street,  or  Star  Alley,  or  Comer.  And,  again,  we  haye 
many  of  an  aquatic  torn,  as  witness  the  Thames  Streets  and  Biyer  Terraces,  and  Brook 
Streets,  and  Wells  Streets,  and  Water  Lanes — ay,  and  one  Ocean  Bow. 

Others  delight  in  tochgieai  tities,  such  as  Pish  Street,  Elephant  Gardens,  or  Stairs,  Cow 
Lane,  Lamb  Alley,  and  Bear  Street,  as  well  as  Duck  Lane,  and  Drake  Street,  and  Bayen  Bow, 
and  Doye  Court,  with  many  Swan  Streets  and  Lanes  and  Alleys,  and  Eagle  Streets,  and 
Swallow  Streets,  and  one  Sparrow  Comer.  In  the  same  category,  too,  we  must  class  the 
thorough&res  christened  after  fabulous  monsters,  such  as  the  Bed  Lion  and  White  Lion 
Streets,  the  Mermaid  Courts,  and  Phoeoiz  Places  and  Wharyes. 

Li  addition  to  these  must  be  mentioned  the  gastronomical  localities,  such  as  Milk  Street, 
Beer  Street,  Bread  Street,  Pine- Apple  Place,  Sugar-Loaf  Court,  and  Yinegar  Yard ;  and  the 
old  Pie  Lane,  and  Pudding  Comer;  besides  Orange  Street,  and  Lemon  Street,  and  tho 
horticultoral  Pear-Tree  Court,  Fig-Tree  ditto,  Cherry-Tree  Lane,  and  Walnut-Tree  Walk. 

Others,  again,  haye  hotamoal  names  giyen  to  them :  thus,  there  are  ten  Bose  Yillas, 
Tenaoes,  Lanes,  or  Courts ;  nine  Holly  ditto ;  seyen  lyy  Cottages  or  Places ;  one  Lily 
Terrace ;  two  Woodbine  YiUas;  the  same  number  of  Fir  Groyes;  a  Layender  Hill  and  Place; 
twelye  Willow  Walks  and  Cottages,  besides  three  Acacia  and  Ayenue  Beads  or  Gkurdens;  one 
Coppice  Bow ;  and  no  less  than  fifty-four  Cottages,  or  Crescents,  or  Parks  styled  Groye^ 
though  mostiy  all  are  as  leafless  as  boot-trees. 

A  large  number  of  thoroughfinres,  on  the  other  hand,  are  called  after  their  mm  or  Bhape; 
Thus  there  are  twenty-three  Streets,  Courts,  Payements,  Walls,  and  Ways  styled  Broad ; 
but  only  three  Streets  called  Narrow.  There  are,  howeyer,  six  Acres,  Alleys,  or  Lanes 
called  Long;  and  an  equal  number  of  Buildings  denominated  Short.  Then  we  haye  as 
many  as  thirty-flye  styled  High,  four  called  Back,  and  the  same  number  bearing  the  oppo- 
site titie  cf  Foito ;  whilst  there  are  no  less  than  ten  Bows  denominated  Middle,  and  twenty 
Courts,  Lanes,  &c.  christened  Cross,  as  well  as  one  dubbed  Tumagain.  In  addition  to  these 
there  are  three  Oyals,  four  Triangles,  two  Polygons,  and  one  Quadrant;  besides  an  innu- 
merable quantity  of  Squares,  Circuses,  and  Crescents. 

Some  places,  on  the  other  hand,  appear  to  haye  chnma^ie  names,  though  this  arises  from 


5S  THE  GEEAT  WOBU)  OF  LONDON. 

the  pignientary  patron3rinic8  of  their  oiiginal  laadlordB.  Hence  tSieie  are  sixteen  thorongb- 
fEures  called  Green,  two  White,  and  one  Grey. 

Further,  yre  have  a  considerable  quantity  named  after  the  eardinal  points  of  the  compass, 
there  being  as  many  as  forty-eight  denominated  North,  not  a  few  of  which  lie  in  a  wholly 
different  direction,  and  forty-fonr  bearing  the  title  of  Sonth ;  whilst  there  are  twenty-nine 
nicknamed  East,  and  an  equal  number  West;  but  only  one  styled  North-East . 

In  the  suburbs  the  topographical  titles  are  offcen  of  a  kfudahrtf  character,  and  generally 
eulogistic  of  the  view  that  was  (originally,  perhaps,)  to  be  obtained  from  the  Buildings,  or 
Crescent,  or  Cottages,  or  Eow,  to  whieh  the  inyiting  title  has  been  applied.  Accordingly  we 
find  that  there  are  twenty-four  Prospect  Cottages  and  Places ;  four  Belle-Yues,  and  a  like 
number  of  Belvideres;  whilst  there  is  one  Fair-Yiew  Plaoe;  besides  nearly  a  score  of 
Pleasant  Places,  four  Mount  Pleasants,  sixteen  Paradise  Terraces  or  Cottages,  and  six 
Paragon  Villas  or  Bows. 

Others,  stiU,  are  christened  after  particular  trades.  Thus,  the  Butchers  have  two  Bows 
called  after  them ;  the  Fishmongers  two  Alleys;  the  Dyers,  three  Courts  or  Buildings ;  the 
Barbers,  one  Yard;  the  Sadlers,  three  Buildings  or  Places ;  the  Stonecutters,  one  Street ;  the 
Potters,  a  few  Fields;  the  Weavers,  two  Streets;  tiie  Ironmongers,  one  Lane;  and  the 
Eopemakers,  one  Walk ;  whilst  there  are  no  less  than  thirty-three  thoroughikres  having  the 
general  title  of  Commercial.  Further,  in.  honour  of  the  Bootmakers,  there  is  one  Place  styled 
Crispin,  one  Lane  called  Shoe,  and  one  Street  bearing  the  name  of  Boot--4]e8ides  a  Petticoat 
Lane  in  honour  of  the  ladies,  and,  for  the  poorer  classes,  a  Bag  Fair. 

Then,  of  thorough&res  named  after  mat^Hab,  there  axe  eight  Wood  Streets,  one  Stone 
Buildings,  one  Iron  and  one  Golden  Square,  seven  Silver  Streets,  and  two  Diamond  Bows. 

Lastly,  there  is  a  large  dass  of  streets  called  after  some  pMicpUtee  near  whidi  fJiey  are 
situate.  For  instance,  there  are  just  upon  one  hundred  localities  having  the  prefix  Park,  and 
thirty-seven  entitled  Bridge,  nineteen  are  called  ICarket,  twelve  styled  Palace,  fourteen 
Castle,  nine  Tower,  two  Parliament,  two  Asylum,  three  Spital  (the  short  for  Hospital),  one 
Museum,  four  Custom  House,  and  a  like  number  Charter  House ;  but  as  yet  there  exist  only 
two  Bailway  Places,  and  one  Tunnel  Square. 

Nor  would  the  catalogue  be  complete  if  we  omitted  to  enumerate  the  London  JEfilSf,  such 
as  Snow,  Com,  Ludgate,  Holbom,  Primrose,  Saffiron,  and  Mutton;  or  the  streets  named  after 
the  ancient  Qatesy  as  Newgate,  Ludgate,  Aldgate,  Aldersgate,  Bishopegate,  and  Moorgate ;  or 
those  eosmopolitan  thoroughfares  dubbed  Portugal  Street,  Spanish  Place,  America  Square, 
Greek  Street,  Turk's  Bow,  Denmark  Hill,  and  Copenhagen  Fields,  not  forgetting  the  ancient 
Petty  France  and  the  modem  Little  Britun. 

^  ii.  Character  of  the  London  Streets. 

The  physiognomy  of  the  metropolitan  thoroughfares  is  well  worthy  of  tiie  study  of  some  civic 
Lavater.  The  finely-chiselled  features  of  an  English  aristocrat,  are  not  more  distinct  from 
the  common  countenance  of  a  Common  Councilman,  than  is  the  stately  Belgravian  square  from 
its  vulgar  brother  in  Barbican ;  and  as  there  exists  in  society  a  medium  class  of  people, 
between  the  noble  and  the  citizen,  who  may  be  regarded  as  the  patterns  of  ostensible 
respectability  among  us,  such  as  bankers,  lawyers,  and  physicians ;  so  have  we  in  London 
a  dass  of  req)ectable  localities,  whose  arcbitectoro  is  not  only  as  piim  as  the  silver  hair,  or 
as  cold-looking  as  the  bald  head,  which  is  so  distinctive  of  tixe  '^genteel*'  types  above  specified ; 
but  it  is  as  different  from  the  ornate  and  stately  character  of  the  buildrngs  about  the  parks  as 
they,  on  the  other  hand,  differ  from  the  heavy  and  ruddy  look  of  tiie  City  squares;  for 
what  the  Belgravian  districts  are  in  their  ''build"  to  the  Bedfordian,  and  the  Bedfordian  again 
to  the  Towerian,  so  is  there  the  same  ratio  in  social  rank  and  character  among  nobles,  pro- 
fiessional  gentry,  and  dtizens. 


THE  LONDON  STBEETB  59 

Again,  ilieTeiryeaBi-eiidof  the  town,  sadi  as  Beilmal  green,  is  ae  niaiked  in  the  cut  of  its 
liriekB  and  mortar — ^in  the  **  long  li^ts"  of  the  weayers'  houses  about  SpitaMelds,  and  the 
latticed  pigeon-house,  surmounting  sdmost  erery  roof — as  is  May  Fair  from  Bag  Fair ;  and  so 
striking  is  this  physiognomical  expression — ^the  diflbrent  cast  of  countenance,  as  it  were — ^in 
the  houses  of  the  several  localities  inhabited  by  the  various  grades  of  society,  that  to  him 
who  knows  London  well,  a  walk  Itemgh  its  div^s  districts  is  as  peculiar  as  a  geographical 
ezemnsion  through  the  multiform  regions  of  the  globe. 

Stroll  through  tiie  streets,  fw  instance,  that  constitute  the  environs  of  Fitzroy  Square,  and 
surely  it  needs  not  brass  cards  upon  the  doors  to  say  that  this  is  the  artistic  quarter  of  London. 
Ifa/^oe  the  high  window  in  the  middle  of  t^e  first  floor,  the  shutters  closed  in  the  day  time  at 
all  but  the  upper  part  of  the  casement,  so  as  to  give  a  '*  top  light."  See,  too,  the  cobwebby 
window  panes  and  &e  flat  sticks  of  the  old-fashioned  parlour  blinds  leaning  different  ways — 
all  betokening  the  residenoe  of  one  who  hardly  belongs  to  the  well-to-do  classes.  Observe, 
as  you  continue  your  walk,  the  group  of  artists'  colour-men's  shops,  with  the  boxes  of 
moist  ooloun  in  tiie  windows,  and  some  large  brown  photographs,  or  water-colour  drawings 
exposed  for  sale;  and  maik,  in  anotiier  street  hard  by,  the  warehouses  of  plaster  casts, 
wtoe  you  see  bits  of  anns,  or  isolated  bands,  modeUed  in  whiting ;  and  chalk  figures  of 
hoTBes,  wiilL  all  the  nmades  showing.  After  this,  the  mind's  eye  that  cannot,  at  a 
glanoe,  detect  that  hereabouts  dwell  the  gentry  who  indulge  in  odd  beards  and  hats,  and 
defif^t  in  a  pLotioesque  ^^make-up,"  must  need  some  intellectual  spectacles  to  aid  its 
pexception. 

T^vel  then  across  Begent  Street.to  Saiville  Bow,  and,  if  you  be  there  about  noon,  it  will 
not  be  necessary  to  read  the  small  brass  tablets  graven  with  '<Nioht-bsix,"  to  learn  that 
here  some  renowned  physician  or  surgeon  dwells  in  every  other  house;  for  you  will  see  a 
seedy  carriage,  with  fagged-looking  horses,  waiting  at  nearly  all  the  thresholds,  and  pale 
peo^,  with  black  patches  of  respirators  over  their  mouths,  in  the  act  of  leaving  or  entering 
the  premises ;  so  that  you  wUl  readily  discover  that  the  gentry  frequenting  this  locality  are 
about  to  hurry  round  the  Metropolis,  and  feel  some  score  of  pulses,  and  look  at  some  score  of 
tongues,  at  the  rate  of  ten  guineas  per  hour. 

Next  wend  yoor  way  to  Chancery  Lane,  and  give  heed  to  the  black*coated  gentry,  with 
bundles  of  papers  tied  with  red-tape  in  their  hands,  the  door-posts  striped  with  a  small 
catalogue  of  names,  the  street-doors  set  wide  open,  and  individuals  in  black  derical-looldng 
gowns  and  powdered  coachmen-Hke  wigs,  tripping  along  the  pavement  towards  the  Courts ;  and 
stationers'  shops,  in  which  hang  legal  almanacs,  and  skros  of  parchment,  as  greasy-looking  as 
tzaeing-paper,  with  '<  this  indenture"  flouiiflhed  m  the  comer,  and  law  lists  bound  in 
bnght  red  leather,  and  law  books  in  sleek  yellow  calf.  Note,  too,  the  furniture  shops,  with 
leathern-topped  writing-tables  and  pigeon-holes,  and  what-nots  for  papers,  and  square 
piles  d  drawers,  and  huge  iron  safes  and  japanned  tin  boxes,  that  seem  as  if  they  had  had  a 
CMtof  raspberry  jam  by  way  of  paint,  against  which  the  boys  had  been  dabbing  their  fingers — 
all  which,  of  course,  will  apprise  you  that  you  are  in  the  legal  quarter  of  the  town. 

Then,  how  diflerant  the  squares  in  the  different  parts  of  London — ^the  squares  which  are 
so  purely  national — so  utteody  unlike  your  foreiga  ''place,"  or  **plai»,"  that  bare  paved  or 
gravelled  space,  with  nothiog  but  a  fiiuntain,  a  statue,  or  column,  in  the  centre  of  it.  True, 
the  trees  may  grow  as  black  in  London  as  human  beings  at  the  tropics;  but  still  there  is  the 
broad  carpet  of  green  sward  in  the  centre,  and  ocoasionalLy  the  patches  of  bright-coloured 
flowen  that  speak  of  the  English  love  of  gardening-— the  Londoner's  craving  for  country  Hfe. 

What  a  distinctive  air,  we  repeat,  have  titie  faahion&ble  West  End  squares;  how 
diffisrent  from  the  **  genteel"  affiEors  in  the  northern  districts  of  the  Metropolis,  as  well  as 
from  the  odd  and  desolate  places  in  the  City,  or  the  obsolete  and  antiquated  spots  on  the 
south  side  of  Holbom  and  Oxford  Street — ^like  Leicester  and  Soho. 


60  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 

How  spacioad  are  tbe  handsome  old  mansionB  around  Grosvenor  Square,  with  their  quoins, 
windows,  and  door-cases  of  stone,  bordering  the  sombre  ^'  rubbed"  brick  i^nts.  In  France 
or  Qermany  such  enormous  buildings  would  have  a  different  noble  femoily  lodging  on  eyery 
''flat."  The  inclosure,  too,  is  a  small  park,  or  palace  gard^,  rather  than  the  payed 
court-yard  of  foreign  places. 

Then  there  is  Grosvenor's  twin  brother,  Portman  Square,  where  the  houses  are  all  but 
as  imposing  in  appearance — and  St.  James's  Square — and  Berkeley — and  Cayendish — and 
Hanoyer — and  Manchester — with  the  still  more  stately  and  gorgeous  Belgraye  and  £aton 
Squares. 

Next  to  these  rank  the  respectable  and  genteel  squares,  such  as  Montague,  and  Bryan- 
stone,  and  Gonnaught,  and  Oadogan,  at  the  West  End,  and  Eitzroy,  and  Eussell,  and 
Bedford,  and  Bloomsbury,  and  Tavistock,  and  Torrington,  and  Gbrdon,  and  Eustan,  and 
Mecklenburg,  and  Brunswick,  and  Queen's,  and  Pinsbury — all  lying  in  that  district  east  of 
Tottenham  Court  Bead  which  was  the  celebrated  Urra  inoognita  of  John  Wilson  Croker. 

After  these  come  the  City  squares — those  intensely  quiet  places  immured  in  the  yery 
centre  of  London,  which  seem  as  still  and  desolate  as  cloisters ;  and  where  the  desire  for  peace 
is  so  strong  upon  the  inhabitants,  that  there  is  generally  a  Hyeried  street-keeper  or  beadle 
maintained  to  cane  off  the  boys,  as  well  as  dispel  the  flock  of  organ-giinders  and  Punch- 
and- Judy  men,  and  acrobats,  who  would  look  upon  the  tranquillity  of  the  place  as  a  mine  of 
wealth  to  them.  To  this  class  belong  Deyonshire  Square,  Biahopsgate ;  Bridgewater  Square, 
Barbican ;  America  Square,  Minories ;  Wellclose  Square,  London  Docks ;  Triniiy  Square, 
Tower;  Nelson  Square,  Black&iars;  Warwick  Square,  Newgate  Street;  and  Qough  and 
Salisbury  Squares,  Elect  Street;  though  many  of  these  are  but  the  mere  bald  ''places"  of 
the  continent. 

Further,  we  haye  the  obsolete,  or  "used  up"  old  squares,  that  lie  south  of  Oxford 
Street  and  Holbom,  and  east  of  Begent  Street,  and  which  have  mostly  passed  firom  feishion- 
able  residences  into  mere  quadrangles,  ftill  of  shops,  or  hotels,  or  exhibitions,  or  chambers; 
such  are  the  squares  of  Soho,  LeLcester,  Golden,  Lincoln's-Lm-Eields,  and  eyen  Ooyent 
Garden. 

And,  lastly,  we  haye  the  pretentious  j^^irrmM-like  suburban  squares,  such  as  Thurlow  and 
Treyor,  by  Brompton;  and  Sloane,  by  Chelsea;  and  Edwardes,  by  Kensington;  and  Oakley, 
by  Camden  Town ;  and  Holford  and  Claremont  Squares,  by  Pentonyille ;  and  Islington 
Square;  and  Green  Arbour  Square,  by  Stepney;  and  Surrey  Square,  by  the  Old  Kent  Bead ; 
and  the  Oyal,  by  Kennington. 

Li  fine,  there  are  now  upwards  of  one  himdred  squares  distributed  throughout  London, 
and  these  are  generally  in  such  extreme  fayour  among  the  surrounding  inhabitants,  that 
they  are  each  regarded  as  the  headquarters  of  the  iUU  of  the  district  by  all  aspirants  for 
£Gushionable  distinction ;  so  that  the  pretentious  traders  of  Gk)wer  Street  and  the  like,  in^*^*"^ 
of  writing  down  their  address  as  Gower  Street,  Tottenham  Court  Bead,  loye  to  exaggerate  it 
into  Gower  Street,  Bedford  Square. 

Of  streets,  again,  we  find  the  same  distinctiye  classes  as  of  the  squares.  There  are,  first, 
the  fashionable  streets,  such  as  Arlington  Street  St.  James's,  and  Park  Lane,  and  Portland 
Place,  and  Bichmond  and  Carlton  Terraces,  and  Priyy  Gardens. 

Then  come  the  respectable  or  "genteel"  thoroughfares  of  Glarges  Street,  and  Harl^ 
Street,  and  Gloucester  Place,  and  Wobom  Place,  and  Keppel  Street,  &c. 

After  these  we  haye  the  lodging-house  localities,  comprised  in  the  seyeral  streets  ronning 
out  of  the  Strand. 

Moreoyer,  mention  must  be  made  of  the  distinctiye  streets,  and  nanx>w  commercial  lanes, 
crowding  about  the  bank,  where  the  houses  are  as  ftdl  of  merchants  and  clerks  as  a  low 
lodging-house  is  fdU  of  tramps. 


THE  LONDON  STEEETS.  61 

Fnriher,  fheie  are  fhe  streeiB  and  distriotB  for  particiilar  trades,  as  Long  Acre,  where  the 
caniage-makers  abound ;  and  Lombard  Street,  where  the  bankers  love  to  congregate ;  and 
Cleikenwell,  the  district  for  the  watch-makers ;  and  Hatton  Garden  for  the  Italian  glass- 
blowers;  and  the  Borongh  for  the  hatters ;  Bermondsey  for  the  tanners ;  Lambeth  for  the  potters ; 
and  Spitalfields  for  weavers ;  and  Catherine  Street  for  the  newsvendors ;  and  Paternoster  Bow 
for  the  booksellers ;  and  the  New  Bead  for  the  zinc-workers :  and  Lower  Thames  Street  for 
the  merchants  in  oranges  and  foreign  frtdts ;  and  Mincing  Lane  for  the  wholesale  grocers ; 
and  Holywell  Street  and  Bosemary  Lane  for  old  clothes ;  and  so  on. 

Again,  one  of  the  most  distinctive  quartersabontLondonisin  the  neighbourhood  of  theDocks. 
The  streets  themselves  in  this  locality  have  all,  more  or  less,  a  maritime  character;  every 
other  store  is  either  stocked  with  gear  for  the  ship  or  the  sailor ;  and  the  front  of  many  a  shop  is 
filled  with  quadrants  and  bright  brass  sextants,  chronometers,  and  ships'  binnacles,  with  their 
compass  cards  trembling  with  the  motion  of  the  cabs  and  waggons  passing  in  the  street,  whilst 
over  the  doorway  is  fixed  a  huge  figure  of  a  naval  officer  in  a  cocked  hat,  taking  a  perpetual  sight 
at  the  people  in  the  first-floor  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  way.  Then  come  the  sailors'  cheap 
shoe  marts,  rejoicing  in  the  attractive  sign  of  '*  Jack  and  his  Mother ;"  every  public  house, 
too,  is  a  '^  Jolly  Jack  Tar,"  or  something  equally  taking,  and  there  are  ''Free  Concerts"  at  the 
back  of  every  bar.  Here,  also,  the  sailmakers'  ^ops  abound,  with  their  windows  stowed  with 
ropes,  and  wmelliTig  of  tar  as  you  pass  them.  All  the  neighbouring  grocers  are  provision  agents, 
and  exhibit  in  their  windows  tin  cases  of  meat  and  Inscuits,  and  every  article  is  ''  warranted 
to  keep  in  any  olimate."  The  comers  of  the  streets,  moreover,  are  mostly  monopolized  by 
slopseUers,  their  windows  parti-coloured  with  the  bright  red  and  blue  flannel  shirts,  and  the 
doors  nearly  blocked  up  with  hammocks  and  well-oUed  nor^-westers ;  whilst  the  front  of  the 
house  itself  is  half  covered  with  canvas  trousers,  rough  pilot-coats,  and  shinny  black  dread- 
noughts. The  foot-passengers  alone  would  tell  you  that  you  were  in  the  maritime  district 
of  London,  for  you  pass  now  a  satin  waistcoated  mate,  and  now  a  black  sailor  with  a  large  fur 
cap  on  his  head,  and  then  a  custom-house  officer  in  bis  brass-buttoned  jacket. 

Nor  would  this  account  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  London  streets  be  complete  if  we 
omitted  to  mention  the  large  body  of  people  who  derive  their  living  from  exercising  some 
art  or  craft,  or  of  caxrying  on  some  trade  in  them.  This  portion  of  people  are  generally 
to  be  seen  in  the  greatest  numbers  at  the  London  Street  Markets  of  a  Saturday  night,  and  a 
more  peculiar  sight  is  not  to  be  witnessed  in  any  other  capital  of  the  world. 

It  is  at  these  street  markets  that  many  of  the  working  classes  purchase  their  Sunday's 
dinner,  and  after  pay-time  on  a  Saturday  night,  the  crowd  in  some  parts  is  almost  impassable. 
Indeed,  the  scene  at  such  places  has  more  the  character  of  a  fair  than  a  market.  There  are 
hundreds  of  stalls,  and  every  stall  has  its  one  or  two  lights ;  either  it  is  illuminated  by  the 
intense  white  light  of  the  new  self-generating  gas  lamp,  or  else  it  is  brightened  up  by  the 
red  smoky  flame  of  the  old-fashioned  grease  lamp.  One  man  shows  off  his  yellow  haddocks 
with  a  candle  stuck  in  a  bui^le  of  firewood ;  his  neighbours  make  a  candlestick  of  a  huge 
tnniip,  and  the  tallow  gutters  over  its  sides ;  whilst  the  boy  shouting,  '*  Eight  a  penny, 
stunning  pears!"  has  surroimded  his  **  dip"  with  a  thick  roll  of  brown  paper  that  flares  away 
in  the  wind.  Some  stalls  are  crimsom,  with  the  Are  shining  through  the  holes  beneath  the 
baked  chestnut  stove ;  others  have  handsome  octohedral  lamps ;  while  a  few  have  a  candle 
Aining  through  a  sieve ;  these,  with  the  sparkling  ground-glass  globes  of  the  tea-dealers' 
shops,  and  the  butchers'  gas-lights  streaming  and  fluttering  in  the  wind  like  flags  of  flame, 
pour  forth  such  a  flood  of  light,  that  at  a  distance  the  atmosphere  immediately  above  the  spot 
IB  as  lurid  as  if  the  street  were  on  fire. 

The  pavement  and  the  road  are  crowded  with  purchasers  and  street  sellers.  The  house- 
wife in  a  thick  shawl,  with  the  market-basket  on  her  arm,  walks  slowly  on,  stopping  now 
to  look  at  the  stall  of  caps,  and  now  to  cheapen  a  bunch  of  greens.    Little  boyB  holding  three 


G2  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

or  four  onions  in  their  hand,  creep  between  Uie  people,  wrigpgrling  their  way  through  erery 
interstice  in  the  crowd,  and  aaking  for  custom  in  whining  tones  as  if  seeking  charity. 

Then  the  tumult  of  the  thousand  cries  of  the  eager  dealers,  all  shouting  at  the  top 
•of  their  voices  at  one  and  the  same  time,  is  almost  bewildering.  '' So-old  again!"  roars 
onCi  '^Chesnuts,  all  ott! — A  penny  a  score!''  bawls  another.  ''An.  aypenny  a  skin, 
blacking!  "  shrieks  a  boy.  *'Buy,  buy,  buy,  buy,  buy,— bu-u-wy ! "  jabbers  the  butcher. 
''Half-a- quire  of  paper  for  a  penny !"  bellows  the  street  stationer.  ''An  aypenny  a  lot, 
inguns ! "  "  Tuppence  a  pound,  grapes ! "  . "  Three-a-penny,  Yarmouth  bloaters ! "  "  Who'll 
buy  a  bonnet  for  fouipence  ?  "  "Pick  'em  out  cheap,  here !  three  pair  for  an  aypenny,  boot- 
laces." "Now's  your  time!  beautiful  whelks,  a  penny  a  lot!"  "Here's  ha-p-<nrtha ! " 
shouts  the  perambulating  confectioner.  "  Come  and  look  at  e'm ! — ^prime  toasters !"  bellows  one 
with  a  Yarmouth  bloater  stuck  on  a  toasting  fork.  "  Penny  a  lot,  fine  rosaets — penny  a  lot!" 
calls  the  apple  woman.    And  so  the  Babel  goes  on. 

One  man  stands  with  his  red-edged  mats  hanging  oyer  his  back  and  chest  like  a  herald's 
coat ;  and  the  girl,  with  her  basket  of  walnuts,  lifts  her  brown-stained  fingers  to  her  mouth, 
as  she  screams,  "  Fine  wamuts !  sixteen  a  penny,  fine  war-r-nuts ! "  At  one  of  the  neigh- 
bouring shops,  a  boot-maker,  to  attract  custom,  has  illuminated  his  shop-fiont  with  a  line  of 
gas,  and  in  its  fall  glare  stands  a  blind  beggar,  his  eyes  tamed  up  so  as  to  show  only  the 
whites,  and  mumbling  some  begging  rhymes,  that  are  drowned  in  the  shrill  notes  of  the 
player  on  the  bamboo-flute,  next  to  him.  The  boys'  sharp  shontingB ;  the  women's  cracked 
voices ;  the  gruff  hoarse  roar  of  the  men — are  all  mingled  together.  Sometimes  an  Lcishman 
is  heard,  with  his  cry  of  "  Fine  'ating apples!"  or  else  the  jingling  music  of  an  unseen  organ 
breaks  out  as  the  trio  of  street  singers  rest  between  the  verses. 

Then  the  sights,  as  you  elbow  your  way  through  the  crowd,  are  equally  multifiuioos. 
Here  is  a  stall  glittering  with  new  tin  saucepans ;  there  another,  bright  witii  its  bhie  and 
yeUow  crockery  and  sparkling  white  glass.  Now  you  come  to  a  row  of  old  shoes,  arranged 
along  the  pavement ;  now  to  a  stand  of  gaudy  tea-brays ;  then  to  a  shop,  with  red  hand- 
kerchief and  blue  checked  shirts,  fluttering  backwards  and  forwards,  and  a  temporary  counter 
built  up  on  the  kerb,  behind  which  shop-boys  are  beseeching  custom.  At  ike  door  of  a 
tea-shop,  with  its  hundreds  of  white  globes  of  Hght^  stands  a  man  delivering  bills, 
"  thanking  the  public  for  past  &vouib  and  defying  competition."  Here,  alongside  the  road, 
are  some  half-dozen  headless  tailors'  dummies,  dressed  in  Chesterfldds  and  fiostian  jackets,  each 
labelled,  "  Look  at  thb  Pbicss,"  or  "  Obsbstb  tsr  Qujjlitt."  Nest,  ire  pass  a  butcher^s 
shop,  crimson  and  white,  with  the  meat  piled  up  to  the  first-floor,*  in  front  of  which,  the 
butcher  himself,  in  his  blue  coat,  walks  up  and  down  sharpening  his  knife  on  the  steel  that 
hangs  to  his  waist,  saying  to  each  woman  as  she  passes,  "What  can  I  do  for  you,  my  dear  ?  " 
A  little  further  on,  stands  the  clean  family  begging ;  the  fediher,  with  his  head  down,  as  if 
ashamed  to  be  seen,  and  a  box  of  lucifers  held  forth  in  his  hand ;  the  boys,  in  newly-woiked 
pinafores,  and  the  tidily  got-up  mother,  with  a  child  at  her  breastw 

One  stall  is  green  and  white  with  bunches  of  turnips — ooother  red  with  apples ;  the 
next  yellow  with  onions;  and  the  one  after  that  purple  with  pickling  cabbages.  One 
minute  you  pass  a  man  with  an  umbrella  tuned  inside  upwards,  and  fUl  of  prints.  The 
next  moment  you  hear  a  fellow  with  a  peep-show  of  Mazeppa^  and  Paul  Jones  the  pirate, 
describing  the  pictures  to  the  crowd  of  boys  as  some  of  them  spy  in  at  tiie  Httle  round 
windows.  Then  you  are  startled  by  the  sharp  snap  of  peroussion  caps  from  the  crowd  of 
lads,  firing  at  the  target  fbr  nuts,  at  the  comer  of  the  street ;  and  the  minute  afterwards 
you  see  a  black  man  clad  in  thin  white  garments,  and  cdiivering  in  tiie  cold,  with  tracts  in 
his  hand,  or  else  you  hear  the  sounds  of  music  from  "  Erazier's  Circus,"  on  the  otiier  sido 
of  the  road,  and  tiie  man  outside  the  door  of  the  penny  concert  beseeching  the  passers-by  to 
''  be  in  time !  be  in  time !"  as  Mr.  Somebody  is  just  about  to  sing  bis  fikvourite  song  of 
"  Tho  Knife-grinder." 


THB  LONDON  STB£ETS«  68 

Such,  indeed,  is  the  riot,  the  struggle,  and  the  scramble  for  a  living,  that  the  oonfosion 
and  uproar  of  the  London  Street  Market  on  Saturday  night  have  a  bewildering  and  half- 
saddening  effect  npon  the  thonghtM  mind. 

Each  salesman  tries  his  utmost  to  sell  his  wares,  tempting  the  passers-by  with  his  bargains. 
The  boy  with  his  stock  of  herbs,  offers  a  ''  double  'andful  of  fine  parsley  for  a  pemiy/'  The 
man  with  the  donkey-cart  filled  with  tumipcf,  has  three  lads  to  shout  for  him  to  their 
utmost,  with  their  ''  Ho !  ho !  hi-i-i !  What  do  yon  think  of  this  here  ?  A  penny  a  bunch ! 
— a  pemiy  a  bunch !    Hurrah  for  free  trade !    Here's  your  turnips !" 

Until  the  scene  and  tumult  are  witnessed  and  heard,  it  is  impossible  to  have  a  sense  of 
the  scramble  that  is  going  on  throughout  London  for  a  living — ^the  shouting  and  the 
struggling  of  hundreds  to  get  the  penny  profit  out  of  the  poor  man's  Sunday's  dinner. 


64  THE  GSEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


^00fe  %  £xxsi 


PBOFESSIONAL   LONDON. 

We  now  pass  from  our  general  survey  of  tlio  Hetropolis,  to  consider  its  several  parts  in 
detail.  For  as  geographers  usually  prefix  to  their  Atlases  a  map  of  the  northern  and 
southern  hemispheres  of  the  glohe,  so  have  we,  in  this  our  literary  Atlas  of  tho  World  of 
London,  first  laid  down  a  chart  of  tho  two  opposite  spheres  of  metropolitan  society — ^the  very 
rich  and  the  very  poor — a  kind  of  Mercator's  plan,  as  it  were,  wherein  tho  antipodes  of 
London  life  are  hronght  imder  one  view. 

This  done,  however,  we  now  proceed,  in  due  geographical  order,  to  deal  tmatm  with 
each  of  the  quarters  of  the  Metropolitan  World. 

And  first  of  Professional  London. 

Professional  London,  we  consider  to  include  that  portion  of  metropolitan  society  of  which 
the  memhers  foUow  some  iatellectual  calling — ^living  hy  mental,  rather  than  manual  dexterity; 
that  is  to  say,  deriving  their  iacome  from  the  exerdBe  of  taierU  rather  than  MR,  For  the 
memhers  of  every  profession  must  be  more  or  less  talented,  even  as  every  handicraftsman 
must  be  more  or  less  skilful ;  and  as  the  working  engineer  acquires,  by  practice,  a  certain 
expertness  in  the  use  of  Ids  filngers,  so  the  member  of  a  profession  learns,  by  education,  a 
certain  quickness  of  perception  and  soundness  of  judgment  in  connection  with  the  matters 
to  which  he  attends;  and  thus  people,  lacking  the  £»culty  which  he  possessesi  are  glad  to 
avail  themselves  of  his  services  m  that  respect. 

According  to  the  above  definition,  the  members  of  the  professions  are  not  limited  merely 
to  lawyers,  doctors,  and  clergymen,  but  include  also  professors,  teachers,  scientific  men, 
authors,  artists,  musicians,«actors — ^indeed  all  who  live  ''  by  their  wits,"  as  the  opprobrious 
phrase  runs,  as  if  it  were  a  dishonour  for  a  person  to  gain  a  livelihood  by  the  exercise  of 
his  intellect ;  and  the  judge  did  not  depend  upon  his  mental  fiiculties  for  his  subsistence}  as 
much  as  the  chevalier  cPindustrie  whom  he  tries. 

The  professional  or  iatellectual  dasB  is  not  a  large  one,  even  when  thus  extended  beyond 
its  usual  limited  signification;  for  in  all  Great  Britain  there  are>  in  round  numbers,  only 
230,000  people  gaining  a  subsistence  by  their  talents,  out  of  a  population  of  very  nearly  21 
millions ;  and  this  is  barely  a  ninetieth  part  of  the  whole. 

Altogether,  there  are  throughout  England,  Wales,  and  Scotland,  30,047  clergymen  and 
ministers,  18,422  lawyers,  and  22,383  medical  men.  Lideed,  the  Commissioners  of  the  Census 
tell  us,  that  the  three  professions,  even  with  their  allied  and  subordinato  members,  amount 
to  only  112,193,  and  ''though  their  importance  cannot  be  overrated,''  they  add,  ''yet,  in 
numbers,  they  would  bo  out-voted  by  the  tailors  of  the  United  Kingdom.'' 

Of  the  ttur^^^^tis^  professions,  the  authors  in  Great  Britain  are  2,981  in  number;  the 
artists,  9,148 ;  the  professors  of  science  (returned  as  such),  only  491 ;  while  the  teachers 
amount  to  106,344 ; — ^making  a  total  of  118,964  individuals 

Now,  let  us  see  what  proportion  of  the  body  of  professional  people  existing  throughout 
Great  Britain,  is  found  located  in  the  Metropolb. 


PE0FE88I0NAL  LONDON. 


65 


According  to  the  letnnis  of  the  last  census,  the  gross  number  of  persons  living  bj  the 
exerdae  of  their  talents  in  London  (including  the  same  classes  as  were  before  mentioned), 
amounts  to  47,746;  and  this  out  of  a  population  of  2,862,2d6-«^«o  that  the  proportion  is 
just  upon  one-fiftieth  of  the  whole.  Hence  we  find  that  whereas  there  are  eleyen  people  in 
every  thousand  belonging  to  the  intellectual  classes  throughout  Great  Britain,  or  rather  more 
than  one  per  cent,  of  tiie  gross  population,*  the  ratio  in  the  Capital  is  a  fraction  beyond  twenty 
to  the  thousand,  or  about  two  per  cent,  of  the  entire  metropolitan  people. 


«  The  difltribution  of  the  Profefleioiuil  Glaues  throughout  the  oountiy,  and  the  ratio  they  bear  to  the  rest 
of  the  adult  population  is  as  follows ; — 

TABLE   SHOWIKG  TBB   DISIBIBTTTZOK  OV  THB  PBOFESSIOKAI.  GLASSES  (kALBS  ASD   FEMALES  ABOVE 

20   tears)   THBOVGHOUT   BNOLANn  AND   WALES,    A.P.    1851. 


I 


DrvmoKs. 


DiTisioK  L — Loinx>N    .    . 

DmSIOV   II. —  SOUTHBRN- 

Eastsbm  Couhties. 

Surrey  («r-Metro.)  .  .  . 
Kent  (cfl^Metro.)  .... 
Sussex     ....... 

Hampshire 

Berkshire 

Total    .    .    . 
DivKiov  m.^— South  Mii>« 

liAim  COUNTIBB. 

Middlesex  («r-Hetro.) 
Hertfordshire  .  . 
Buckinghamshire  . 
Oxfordshire .  •  • 
KorthamptoDshire 
Huntingdonshire  . 
Bedfordshire  .  . 
Camhridgeahire 

Total    .    .    . 

PrnSION  IV. — EA0TEBM 

Covimss. 

Essex 

Suiiblk 

Norfolk 

Total   .    .    . 

DinsioN  V. — South- Wbst- 
vax  CouimEs. 

Wiltshire 

Dorsetshire  ...... 

DeTonshire 

Cornwall 

Somersetshire 

Total    .    .    . 


6  a   . 


2,388 


872 
779 
659 
744 
417 


2,971 


251 
315 
301 
479 
453 
128 
228 
393 


2,548 


624 
686 
860 


2,170 


484 
375 
1064 
450 
979 


3,352 


Ill 
^1 


5,703 


360 
332 
345 
292 
147 


1,476 


Is 

PM  bfi 


270 

115 

79 

104 

105 

32 

45 

113 


863 


194 
172 
292 


658 


142 
121 
497 
162 
403 


1,325 


5,100 


247 
502 
412 
372 
194 


1,727 


243 

231 

99 

145 

155 

37 

92 

181 


1,133 


282 
248 
294 

824 


172 
139 
625 
230 
473 


1,639 


1  . 

thoiv.  Editors 
and  others. 

5 

<^ 

1,160 

3,666 

23 

82 

45 

145 

53 

99 

43 

138 

20 

45 

184 

509 

33 

91 

6 

26 

18 

18 

101 

35 

5 

80 

2 

2 

4 

16 

123 

27 

292 

245 

29 

53 

24 

54 

25 

72 

78 

179 

22 

25 

16 

35 

52 

174 

17 

33 

88 

131 

145 

398 

146 


3 
6 
8 
8 


25 


4 
2 

3 
1 

1 

8 


19 


5 
4 

5 


14 


9 

5 

10 


29 


0  *^ 


14,570 


1,444 
2,678 
2,316 
2,260 
1,165 


9,863 


1,255 
904 
668 
915 

1,022 
305 
453 
934 


6,456 


1,634 
1,672 
2,192 


5,698 


1,213 
960 
3,110 
1,401 
2,635 


9.319 


32,733 


2,531 
4,487 
3,892 
3,857 
1,988 


16,755 


2,147 
1,599 
1,183 
1,782 
1,771 
506 
839 
1,729 


11,556 


8,021 
2,860 
8,740 


9,621 


2.063 
1,646 
5,531 
2,298 
4,669 


16,207 


hi 


1,394,963 


111,025 
263,292 
182,164 
222,633 
108,017 


887,131 


84,190 
92.152 
76.570 
92,252 

115,735 
31,260 
67,029 

101,587 


660,775 


183,845 
180,371 
239,504 


603,720 


129,245 
95,612 
318,707 
184,879 
249,581 


978,024 


as  ^ 


23-4 


22-7 
170 
21-3 
17-3 
18-4 

18-9 


25-5 
17-3 
15-4 
193 
15-3 
161 
12-5 
170 

17-4 


16-4 
15*8 
15-6 

15-9 


15-9 
17-2 
17*3 
12-3 
18-7 

16-6 


Far  conHnuation  of  Table  tee  next  page. 


66 


THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


"When,  therefore,  we  come  to  consider  that  the  above  estimate  includes  the  whole  of  the 
*'  learned  professions  "  (as  they  are  inyidiously  styled),  as  well  as  all  those  whose  lives  are 


DnrxsioyB. 


DiYiBioN  VI.— Wbst  Mid- 
land COITMTISS. 

Olouoestershire 

Herefordshire 

Shropshire 

Staffordshire 

Worcestershire 

Warwiokshire 


DiYnioN  VIL— North  Mid- 

LAKD  OOUNTIBB 

Leicestershire  . 

EuUandshire 

Lincolnshire 

Nottinghamshire 

Derbyuiire 


Dinsiox  VIIL— NoRTH- 
Wbsterk  Countibs. 

Cheshire 
Lancashire 


Division  IX.—Tosuhirb. 

West  Biding 
East  Riding 
North  Biding 


DlTIBION  X« — NORTHBRN 
GOVNTIES. 

Durham 

Northumherland   . 
Comherland 
Westmoreland 


Division  XL — ^Monmouth- 

BHIRB  AND  WaLBS. 

Monmouthshire     .... 
South  Wales 
North  Wales 

Total 

Total  for  England  and  Wales 

By  the  ^ve  table,  it  will  be  seeu  that  the  professional  or  highly-educated  classei  nmgo  from  about  7*6  to 


PROFESSIONAL  LONDON.  67 

deroted  to  the  equally  learned  pnrsuitB  of  literatnTe,  art,  Bcience,  and  education ;  that  is  to 
say,  not  only  those  versed  in  divinity,  law,  and  physic,  but  the  historian,  the  poet,  the  critic, 
&e  painter,  the  sculptor,  the  architect,  the  natural  philosopher,  and  the  musician,  together 
with  the  teachers  of  youth  and  professors  of  science — in  fine,  not  only  the  modem  Butlers 
and  Paleys,  the  Blackstones  and  Bacons,  the  Harveys  and  Hunters,  hut,  in  the  words  of 
the  Census  Commissioners,  the  living  **  Shakespeares,  Humes,  fiandels,  Eaphaels,  Michael 
Angelos,  Wrens,  and  Newtons" — ^when  we  consider  this,  we  repeat,  it  must  be  confessed 
that  the  proportion  of  one,  or  even  two,  per  cent,  of  such  folk  to  the  entire  population, 
appears  but  little  complimentary  to  the  taste  or  culture  of  our  race.  Otherwise,  surely 
every  hundred  persons  in  Great  Britain  would  think  it  requisite  to  maintain  more  than  one 
person  for  the  joint  cure  of  their  bodies  and  souls,  as  well  as  the  redress  of  their  wrongs 
and  the  enlightenment  or  refinement  of  their  minds. 

Still,  another  view  must,  in  prudence,  be  taken  of  the  matter.  However  much  the 
intellectual  classes  may  contribute  to  the  honour  and  glory  of  a  n9.tion,  nevertheless,  we 
must  admit,  they  odd— directly — but  little,  if  any,  to  its  material  wealth.  Beligion,  health, 
justice,  literature,  art,  science,  education — admirable  as  they  all  be — are  mental  and 
spiritual  riches,  instead  of  commodities  having  an  exehangeahle  value — ^being  metaphysical 
luxuries,  rather  than  physical  necessities :  for  wisdom,  taste,  and  piety  do  not  tend  to 
appease  those  grosser  wants  of  our  nature,  which  the  grosser  riches  of  a  country  go  to 
satisfy;  nor  wiU  the  possession  of  them  fill  the  stomach,  or  clothe  the  limbs,  or  shelter 
the  head ;  so  that  those  who  give  up  their  lives  to  such  pursuits  cannot  possibly  be 
ranked  as  self-supporting  individuals,  since  they  must  be  provided  for  out  of  the  stock  of 
such  as  serve  directly,  by  their  capital  or  their  labour,  to  increase  the  products  of  the 
nation. 

Accordingly,  the  maintenance  of  even  one  such*  unproductive  person  to  every  hundred 
individuals  (especially  when  we  bear  in  mind  that  three-fourths  in  every  such  hundred  must, 
naturally,  be  incapacitated  from  the  severer  labours  of  life,  by  either  sex  or  age,  as 
women  and  the  very  old  and  very  young)  reflects  no  littie  credit  on  our  countrymen ;  since, 
in  order  to  uphold  that  ratio,  every  twenty-five  producers  (i.«.,  one-fourth  of  each  century 
of  people)  throughout  the  kingdom,  must,  in  addition  to  the  support  of  their  own  families 
(which  may  be  taken  at  three-fourths  in  every  such  century),  voluntarily  part  with  a  consider- 
able portion  of  their  creature  comforts,  in  order  to  enjoy  the  benefit  of  the  teachings,  the 
advice,  or  the  aspirations  of  their  ^*  professional ''  brethren.* 

It  is,  however,  hardly  fair  to  rank  professional  men  among  the  non-producers  of  a  country; 
for  though  your  doctors  in  divinity,  law,  and  physic,  as  well  as  poets,  philosophers,  and 
pedagogues,  till  not,  **  neither  do  they  spin,"  it  is  certain  that  .they  contribute,  indireotfy,  to 
the  wealth  of  a  nation,  as  much — rif  not  more,  perhaps — ^than  any  other  class. 

Newton,  for  instance,  by  the  invaition  of  the  sextant,  as  well  as  by  that  vast  opening-up 
of  our  astronomical  knowledge  which  served  to  render  navigation  simpler  and  safer,  did 
more  to  extend  our  maritime  commerce  than  any  merchant  enterprise  could  ever  have 
effected.     Again,  all  must  allow  that  the  steam-labourer  created  by  Watt  has  tended  to 

25-6  individitali  to  every  1000  of  the  adult  population  throughout  EngVmd  and  Wales;  and  that  whilst 
the  highest  ratio  of  profeBsional  people  it  found  in  Middlesex,  London,  Surrey,  and  Sussex,  the  lowest 
proportion  obtains  in  Northumberland,  Durham,  Stafford,  the  West  Biding  of  York,  Lancaster,  Monmouth, 
and  South  and  North  Wales.  This  result  coincides  nearly  with  the  returns  of  the  relatiye  amount  of  educa- 
tion prvrailing  throughout  the  seyeral  counties  of  £ngland  and  Wales,  as  indicated  by  the  number  of  persons 
who  sign  the  marriage  register  with  marks ;  and  by  which  returns  it  appears  that  there  is  the  least  number 
of  educated  persons  in  Monmouth,  South  Wales,  and  North  Wales,  and  the  greatest  number  in  Surrey  and 
Middlesex.  Thus  we  perceive  that  the  proportion  of  professional  classes  is  an  indication  of  the  educated  state 
of  the  people  in  the  various  counties. 

•  The  average  number  of  persons  to  a  family  in  England  and  Wales  is  4*827. — Otnstu  Rtporifor  1851. 

5» 


68  THE  GEEAT  WOKLD  OF  LONDON. 

increase  onr  mannfactures  more  than  many  mtllion  paiw  of  hands ;  whilst  the  steam-oarriage 
of  Stephenson  has  helped  to  distribute  the  prodacts  of  particular  districts  over  the  entire 
country,  fer  beyond  the  powers  of  an  infinite  number  of  carriers.  How  many  working  men 
would  it  have  taken  to  hare  enriched  the  nation  to  the  same  amount  as  Arkwright,  the 
penny  barber,  did  by  his  single  invention  of  the  spinning-jenny  ?  "What  number  of  weavers 
would  be  required  to  make  as  much  cloth  as  he,  who  devised  the  power-loom,  produced 
by  the  mere  effort  of  his  brain  ?  Surely,  too,  Lee,  the  university  scholar,  has  given  more 
stockings  to  the  poor,  by  the  invention  of  his  "  frame,"  than  all  the  knitters  that  ever  lived. 
Farther,  have  not  the  manures  discovered  by  our  chemists  increased  our  crops  to  a  greater 
extent  than  the  whole  of  the  agricultural  labourers  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  the 
reasonings  of  our  geologists  and  metallurgists  added  to  onr  mineral  wealth  more  than  the 
entire  body  of  our  miners  and  smelters  ? 

Still,  ^ese  are  merely  the  **  economical "  results  springing  fi?om  science  and  education  ; 
those  results,  on  the  other  hand,  which  are  due  to  the  practice  of  the  '^  learned  "  professions, 
though  perhaps  less  brilliant,  are  equally  indisputable.     The  medical  skill  which  restores  the 
disabled  workman  to  health  and  strength  surely  cannot  be  regarded  as  valueless  in  the  State ; 
nor  can  we  justly  consider  the  knowledge  which  has  prolonged  the  term  of  life,  and 
oonsequently  of  industry,  in  this  country,  as  yielding  nothing  to  the  wealth-fhnd  of  the 
nation.    Moreover,  that  honourable  vocation  which  has  for  its  object  the  prevention  and 
redress  of  wrong,  and  the  recovery  of  every  man's  due,  serves  not  only  to  give  a  greater 
security  to  capital,  and  so  to  induce  the  wealthy  to  employ  rather  than  hoard  their  gains, 
but  also  to  protect  the  poor  against  the  greed  and  power  of  the  avaricious  rich — ^this,  too,  cannot 
but  be  acknowledged  to  be  intimately  concerned  in  promoting  the  industry  and  increasing 
the  riches  of  the  community ;  whilst  that  stiU  higher  calling,  which  seeks  to  make  all  men 
charitable  and  kind,  rather  than  sternly  just,  to  their  less  favoured  brethren,  which  teaches 
that  there  are  higher  things  in  life  than  the  ''  rights  of  capital "  and  political  economy,  and 
which,  by  inculcating  special  respect  and  duties  to  the  poor,  has  been  mainly  instrumental 
in  emancipating  the  labourer  from  the  thraldom  of  villanage,  and  consequentiy  in  giving  a 
tenfold  return  to  his  industry  as  a  free  workman-^-such  a  calling  may  also  be  said  to  have 
a  positive  commercial  value  among  us. 

Surely,  then,  professions  which  yield  products  like  these  cannot  be  regarded  as  altogether 
unproductive  in  the  land. 

The  professional  classes  constitute  what,  in  the  cant  language  of  literature,  is  styled  ''the 
aristocracy  of  intellect;"  and  it  must  be  admitted,  even  by  those  who  object  to  the  intro- 
duction of  the  title  aristos  into  the  republic  of  letters,  that  the  body  of  professional  men 
form  by  themselves  a  great  intellectual  clan — the  tribe  which  is  specially  distinguished  from 
all  others  by  the  learning,  wisdom,  or  taste  of  its  members,  and  the  one,  moreover,  which  in 
all  philosophic  minds  cannot  but  occupy  the  foremost  position  in  society.     For,  without 
any  disposition  to  disparage  those  classes  who  owe  their  social  pre-eminence  either  to  their 
birth  or  their  wealth,  we  should  be  untrue  to  our  own  class  and  vocation  if  we  did  not, 
without  arrogance,  daim  for  it — despite  the  "  order  of  precedence  "  prevalent  at  Court— la 
position  second  to  none  in  the  community ;  and,  surely,  even  those  who  feel  an  honourable 
pride  in  the  deeds  and  glory  of  their  ancestors,  and  they  too,  who,  on  the  other  hand,  find 
a  special  virtue  in  the  possession  of  inordinate  riches  or  estates,  must  themselves  allow 
that  high  intellectual  endowments  have  an  Mrinsic  nobUity  belonging  to  them,  compared 
with  which  the  extrimie  nobility  of  ''blood"  or  "lands"  is  a  mere  assumption  and 
pretence. 

Now  it  must  not  be  inferred,  from  the  tenor  of  the  above  remarks,  that  we  are  adverse  to 
the  aristocratic  institutions  of  this  country.  Far  from  it ;  we  believe  in  no  equality  on  this 
side  of  the  grave :  for  as  Nature  has  made  one  man  wiser,  or  better,  or  braver,  or  more 


PKOFESSIONAL  LOKDON,  69 

prndent  th«Q  another,  it  is  our  creed  that  society  must  always  own  a ''  superior  class ''  of  some 
sort — superior  in  inteUect,  goodness,  heroism,  or  worldly  possessions,  accoiding  as  the 
nation  chooses  to  measure  by  one  or  more  of  those  standards.  The  Stanleys,  the  Howards, 
the  Russells,  &c.,  are,  to  all  unprejudiced  minds,  unquestionably  more  worthy  of  social  respect, 
as  nature's  own  gentlemen,  than  the  descendants  of  Greenacre,  Burke,  and  Bush — ^nature's 
own  ruffians ;  and  so,  again,  we  cannot  but  regard  the  Barings  and  the  Jones-Lloyds  as 
more  dignified  and  usefbl  members  of  the  community  than  your  able-bodied  pauper  or 
atnrdy  vagrant. 

But,  while  making  these  admissions,  we  must  at  the  same  time  acknowledge  that  we  hold 
the  Shakespeares,  the  Newtons,  the  Watts,  the  Blackstones,  the  Hanreys,  the  Fullers,  the 
Beynolds,  the  PurceUs,  and  indeed  all  who  have  distinguished  themselves  either  in  law 
divinity,  medicine,  literature,  art,  science,  or  education,  not  only  as  being  among  the  very 
worthiest  of  England's  worthies,  but  as  constituting  the  class  which  lends  the  chief  dignity  to 
a  nation  in  the  eyes  of  all  foreign  countries — ^the  untitied  nobility  of  the  world,  rather  than 
of  any  mere  isolated  empire. 

IJTor  would  it  be  just  to  ourselves,  and  our  own  order,  if  we  did  not  here  assert  that  the 
literary  vocation — ^truthiully,  righteously,  and  perfectly^  carried  out — claims  kindred,  not  only 
with  all  philosophy  as  the  ground- work  of  each  particular  science,  and  ethics  as  the  basis  of  aU. 
law,  and  humanism  which  enters  so  largely  into  medical  knowledge,  and  sesthetics  as  the 
foundation  of  all  arts  connected  with  the  beautiftd,  but  also  with  religion  itself,  in  its 
inculcation  of  the  Christian  principles — ^its  use  of  the  parabular*  form  of  instruction — as 
well  as  its  denunciation  of  wrong,  and  its  encouragement  of  good- will  and  charity  among  all 
men. 

Moreover,  it  is  our  pride  to  add,  that,  of  all  pursuits  and  ranks  in  the  world,  there  is 
none  which  depends  so  thoroughly  on  public  acclaim,  and  so  little  on  sovereign  caprice,  for 
the  honour  and  glory  of  its  members ;  and  none,  therefore,  in  which  honours  and  glories 
cast  so  high  and  sterling  a  dignity  upon  its  chiefs. 

Well,  it  is  with  the  professional,  or  rather  let  us  say  the  intellectual,  portion  of  metro- 
politan society  that  we  purpose  first  dealing  here. 

The  professionals  resident  in  London  number,  as  we  have  said,  47,000  and  odd  individuals 
in  the  aggregate ;  and,  therefore,  constitute  nearly  one-fifth  of  the  entire  intellectual  class 
distributed  throughout  Great  Britain. 

Included  in  the  gross  number  of  metropolitan  professionals  are,  5,863  lawyers,  5,631 
doctors,  2,393  clergymen  and  ministers,  and  11,210  ''subordinates" — ^making  altogether 
25,097  persons  belongrug  to  the  so-caUod  ''  learned  "  professions ;  whilst  to  these  must  be 
added  the  sum  of  22,649  persons  connected  with  the  '' imrecognized "  professions;  and 
induding  1,195  literary  men,  17y241  teachers,  156  professors  of  science,  and  4,057  artists 
and  architects.f 

Of  each  and  all  of  these  varieties  of  Professional  London  it  is  our  intention  to  treaty 
gerudim,  under  the  several  divisions  of  Legal  London — ^Medical  London — ^Religious  L<mdon — 
Literary  London — ^Artistic  Londipi — Scholastic  London,  and  so  on,  dealing  vrith  each  of 
those  phases  of  Metropolitan  life  as  if  it  were  a  distinct  Metropolis-— estimating  its  popula- 
tion— marking  out  its  boundaries  and  districts — and  treating  of  the  manners  and  customs  of 
the  people  belonging  to  it,  firom  the  highest  to  the  lowest ;  indeed,  attempting  for  the  first 
tiflia  to  write  and  photograph  the  history  of  our  multifarious  Capital,  in  the  nineteenth  oen- 

*  This  word  is  liardly  formed  mpon  correct  etymological  prindplee,  the  Latin  adjectival  affix,  '*  tdat'* 
in  tabular,  from  *'  taW' — cannoit  strictly  be  applied  to  a  Greek  Bubstantive.  The  use,  however,  of  the 
gnBoo-adjeetlve  ^parabolie  "  in  a  wholly  different  sense  is,  perhaps,  sufficient  apology  for  the  formation 
of  ti!i0  mongrel  term. 

t  The  distribntion  of  the  professional  classes  throughout  the  several  districts  of  London  is  as  follows :— 


70 


TKE  GREAT  VOBLD  OF  LONDON. 


tury ;  and  we  shall  now  beg:iii  to  set  forth  the  several  details  in  connection  with  the  first 
of  those  divisions. 

TABLE  SHOWINa  THE  DISTSIBUTION  OF  THE  PBOFESSIOVAL   CLASSES  (mALES  AKD   FBHALBSy 

20    TEABS  AND   TJPWAKDs)    THROUGHOUT   LONDON. 


DisTuon. 


Wb8T  DlSTaiCTS. 

Kenflington 

Chelsea 

8t  George  (Hanover  Sq.)  . 

Westminster 

St.  Martin  in  the  Fields    . 
St  James,  Westminster 

Total  West  Districts     .    < 

No&TH  Disnuora. 

Marylebone     ..... 
Hampstead      .... 

Pancras 

Islington     .    .    .    .    , 
Hackney 

Total  North  Diatricta    .    * 

CbNT&AL  DlBT&lCTB. 

St.  Giles 

Strand 

Holbom 

Clerkenwell     .         ... 

StLnke 

East  London 

West  London  ..... 
London  City 

Total  Central  Districts  .    . 

East  Distkiots. 

Shoreditch 

Bethnal  Green     .... 

Whiteohapel 

St  George  in  the  East    .    . 

Stepney 

Poplar    ....... 

Total  East  Districts  .    .    . 

m 

SOUTB   DiSTBIOTB. 

St  Saviour  (Southwar :)    . 
St  Olaye  (Southwark)  .    . 

Bermondsey 

St  George  (Southwark)     . 

Newington 

Lamheth 

Wandsworth 

Camherwell 

Rotherhithe 

Greenwich 

Lewisham 

Total  South  Districts     .    . 

Total  for  all  London .    .    . 


2  o  o 


219 
80 

121 
59 
35 
41 


722 
130 
329 
130 
90 
159 


<i  9  • 

IP 

CO 


p  •*  ^ 


III 

< 


r 


it 


555 


195 
36 
209 
146 
103 


1,560 


689 


67 
83 

47 
47 
29 
26 
18 
74 


477 
101 
661 
255 
126 


394 
119 
380 
74 
107 
192 


1,266 


89 
29 
52 
32 
31 
41 


274 


337 

122 

153 

90 

67 

91 


860 


1,620 


381 
267 
403 
121 
35 
25 
138 
120 


341  1,490 


52 
61 
36 
24 
77 
23 


273 


13 
13 
28 
41 
47 
114 
84 
57 
9 
68 
61 


558 
41 
515 
192 
111 


1,417 


206 

141 

101 

127 

93 

84 

70 

146 


79  J 

9 

149 

57 

36 


330 


968 


37 

17 

12 

7 

32 
12 


117 


41 
82 
40 
35 
5 
8 
19 
22 


429 

32 

710 

167 

60 


1,398 


252 


100 
51 
83 
47 

114 
43 


438 


530 


2,388 


15 

4 

5 

45 

82 

284 

159 

130 

3 

92 

97 


916 


6,703 


65 
79 
85 
79 

112 

253 
83 

109 
13 

132 
51 

1,011 


5,100 


28 

10 

5 

5 

13 

1 


147 
124 
80 
87 
24 
13 
23 
42 


540 


62 


7 

2 

4 

18 

44 

90 

20 

30 

1 

18 
14 


243 


1.161 


72 
25 
19 
13 
56 
19 


204 


41 

3 

21 

50 

97 

223 

46 

94 

6 

56 

27 


664 


3,667 


8 
3 

7 


22 


23 
1 

13 
9 
1 

47 


6 

10 

3 

3 


28 


3 
9 
5 
6 
4 


27 


1 
2 
4 
3 
2 

I  m 

8 
2 


22 


146 


1,334 
470 
589 
366 
141 
199 


3,099 


1,344 
165 

1,450 
'888 
584 


4,431 


297 
232 
203 
383 
194 
186 
87 
242 


1,824 


487 
262 
221 
169 
564 
180 


1,883 


130 

72 

214 

264 

365 

1,084 

543 

521 

80 

616 

336 


4,225 


15,462 


I 


3,103 
953 

1,631 
751 
471 
727 


7,636 


a 

I"  I 


73,205 
33,619 
48,969 
39,722 
16,154 
24,023 


235,692 


3,105 
385 
3,707 
1,714 
1,021 


9,932 


1,145 
889 
885 
803 
380 
344 
355 
650 

5,451 


99,445 
7,110 
99,809 
55,446 
38,268 


295,078 


779 
435 
381 
271 
860 
278 


34,469 
27,317 
28,104 
37,749 
31,231 
26,194 
17,890 
34,656 


237,610 


3,004 


271 
173 
802 
493 
749 
2,052 
938 
943 
112 
990 
588 


7,611 


33,634 


61,150 
47,636 
45,988 
27,894 
62,661 
26,398 


271,727 


21,040 
12,342 
26,587 
29,924 
37,298 
80,322 
29,236 
31,699 
10,026 
58,033 
19,303 


355,810 


1,395,917 


S 


it 


42-4 
288 
33*3 
18-9 
291 
30-2 

32-4 


31-2 
541 
371 
30-9 
807 

33*6 


32-2 
32-6 
31*6 
21-2 
121 
181 
19-8 
18-7 

22-9 


12-7 

9*1 

8-S 

9-7 

13-7 

10*6 

110 


12*8 
140 
11-3 
16-5 
200 
25-5 
321 
29-7 
11-1 
17-0 
30-4 

21-4 


240 


LEGAL  LONDON.  71 

DIVXSIOV  L 

1B6AI.    lOHDOM. 

Thk&x  is  a  legal  district  of  London  as  luumatakably  as  there  is  a  Jews'  quarter  in  Frankfort ; 
for  the  Juden-gasM  of  the  Qerman  free  town  is  hardly  more  distinct  from  the  Znl,  than 
Chancery  Lane  and  ita  environs  from  the  City  or  West  End  of  our  Metropolis. 

And  as  there  are  several  foreign  colonies  scattered  throughout  the  British  Capital — as 
Eatton  Garden  and  its  purlieus,  swarming  with  glass-blowers  and  organ-grinders,  is  the 
Ketropolitan  Itaua  ;  the  neighbourhood  of  Leicester  Square,  with  its  congregation  of  beards 
and  soft  hate,  the  Cockney  Gaixu  Ultehiob  ;  and  the  pari^  of  St.  Giles,  where  the  courts 
and  cellars  teem  with  hod-men  and  market-women,  the  London  TTihkhuia  ;  so  is  there  a  peculiar 
race  of  people  grouped  around  the  Courts  of  Law  and  Inns  of  Court — Westminster  and 
Ijncolii's  Inn  being  the  two  great  legal  provinces  of  London,  even  as  York  and  Canterbury 
are  the  two  great  ecclesiastical  provinces  of  England. 

A  reference  to  the  annexed  maps  will  show  that  Legal  London  is  composed  not  only  of 
lawyers'  residences  and  chambers,  but  of  Inne  of  Court  and  Law  Courta — Civil  as  well  as 
Criminal,  "  Superior  "  as  well  as  Petty — and  County  Courts,  and  Police  Courts,  and  Prisons ; 
and  that  whilst  the  Criminal,  the  County,  and  Police  Courts,  as  well  as  the  Prisons,  are 
dotted,  at  intervals,  all  over  the  Metropolis,  the  Superior  Law  Courts  are  focossed  at  "West- 
minster and  Guildhall;  the  Tnna  of  Court  being  grouped  round  Chancery  Lane,  and  the 
1^^  residences,  or  rather  "chambers"  (for  lawyers,  like  merchants,  now-a-days  live  mostly 
away  &om  their  place  of  business),  concentrated  into  a  dense  mass  about  the  same  classic 
spot,  but  thinning  gradually  off  towards  Guildhall  and  Westminster,  as  if  they  were  the 
OKHiectuig  links  between  the  legal  courts  and  the  legal  inns. 


r  THB  INNS  OF  C0UBT3  AND  DISTBICTS  IKHABITED  BT  LAWYERS. 
lThtIhtidTliorBtv\farailliml\iatrftibtItiMttdbfLaiiytn.) 


MAP  OF  THE  SUPEBIO&  LAW  COURTS,  OOUNTT  OOUBTB,  SESSIONS   HOUSES,  POUCB    COUBTS, 

AND    PRISONS  THBOUOHOUT  LOMDOM. 

The  Circles  represent  Inns  of  Court  and  Law  Courts ;  the  Diamond^  County  Courts;  the  Squares,  Police 

Courts ;  and  the  Ovals,  Prisons. 


INNS   OF  COURT. 

1.  Lincoln's  Ian. 
S.  Temple. 

5.  Oniy's  Inn. 

4.  Farniral'i  Ina. 

6.  Staple  Inn 

6.  Scnrcant's  Inn. 

7.  Clifford's  Inn. 

8.  Clement's  Inn. 

9.  New  Inn. 

10.  Ljun't  Inn. 

11.  Sjrmond'i  Inn. 

12.  Barnard's  Inn. 
IS.  TluTlM'  Inn. 

LAW   COURTS. 
U.  Westminster  UalL 


15.  Linoolnli  Inn. 
le.  llolls  Cuun. 

17.  OaUdhtU 

18.  BankmptcT. 

19.  InsolTent  Debtors'. 

W.  Ecclesiastical  andAdml- 

raltj. 
11.  Centml  Criminal  Court. 
-Jl.  MlddlesezSesslons  House 
33.  Surrej  Sessions  House. 
a.  WustmlnsterSesslons  Ho. 
2S.  Tower  Llbeitjr  Sesslous 

House, 
M.  Southwark  Sesblons  Ho. 

COUNTY  COURTo. 
27*  Marylebooe. 


2B.  Bloomsbnry. 

29.  Wc*>tmlnster. 

30.  Clerkenwell. 
81.  Whitechapel. 

32.  Sboredltch. 

33.  South wark. 

34.  Lambeth. 
86.  Bromptoa* 
36.  Bow. 

POUCB  COURTS. 

37  Mansion  House. 

?8.  QuUUluill. 

89.  Bow  Street. 

411.  Marlborouffh  Stn«t. 

41.  Manrlebone. 

4'i.  CleikenweU. 


43.  Westminster. 

44.  Worship  street. 
4ft.  LUBbeth. 

43.  TliMBes. 
47  Souchwaik. 
4«.  Hummersmita. 
49.  Waaditwrih. 
00.  Greenwich 

61.  Woolwich. 

PRISONS. 

62.  PentonrUIUi 
ii.  Miilbank. 

64   Female  Conrlct,  Brixton. 
M.  1 1  ulkfe,  Woolwich. 
.'•3.  House  of  Co^ection. 
67.  Middlesex  House  of  Oor- 
teetion. 


58.  CitT  House  of  Oorreetlon 
Hollowaj. 

69.  Surrej  Hoase  of  Correc- 
tion. 

60.  Bridewell  Hoepiul. 

61.  Bridewell  House  of  Omi- 

Ktion,  baint  George* 
elds. 

62.  Middlesex  House  of  De- 

tention. 

63.  NewffHte. 

64.  Kurrej  County  GuoL 
64.  Queen's  B«  BCh. 

66.  Whltecroes  Siieet. 

67.  Tower. 

68.  StrouK  Room,  Houee  o 

Conaioas. 


The  Inns  of  Court  are  themselves  sufficiently  peculiar  to  give  a  strong  distinctive  mark 
to  the  locality  in  which  they  exist ;  for  here  are  seen  broad  open  squares  like  huge  court-yards, 
paved  and  treeless,  and  flanked  with  grubby  mansions — ^as  big  and  cheerless-looking  as 
barracks— every  one  of  them  being  destitute  of  doors,  and  having  a  string  of  names  painted 
in  stripes  upon  the  door-posts^  that  reminds  one  of  the  lists  displayed  at  an  estate-agent's  office 
and  there  is  generally  a  chapel-like  ediflce  called  the  ''hall/'  that  is  devoted  to  feeding  rather 
than  praying,  and  where  the  lawyerlings  *'  qualify''  for  the  bar  by  eating  so  many  dinners,; 
and  become  at  length — ^gastronomically — "  learned  in  the  law."  Then  how  peculiar  are  the 
tidy  legal  gardens  attached  to  the  principal  Inns,  with  their  close-shaven  grass-plots  looking 
as  sleek  and  bright  as  so  much  green  pluah,  and  the  clean-swept  gravel  walks  thronged  with 
children,  and  nursemaids,  and  law-students.  How  odd,  too,  are  the  desolate-looking  legal 
alleys  or  courts  adjoining  these  Inns,  witli  nothing  but  a  pump  or  a  cane-bearing  street-keeper 
to  be  seen  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  occasionally  at  one  comer,  beside  a  crypt-like  passage, 
stray  dark  and  dingy  barber's  shop,  with  its  seedy  display  of  powdered  horsehair  wigs  of 


LEGAX  LONDON.  73 

ihe  same  dirtv-wbite  hue  as  London  snow.  Who,  moreoyer,  has  not  noted  the  windows  of  the 
legal  frnitercffB  and  law  stationers  hereabouts,  stuck  over  with  small  announcements  of 
clerkships  wanted,  each  penned  in  the  well-known  formidable  straight-up-and-down  three- 
and-fourpennj  hand,  and  beginning — ^with  a  <'C|tii(-ffnllentttre"-like  flourish  of  German 
text — ''C%f  SBnttr  i^ereaft"  &c.  Who,  too,  while  threading  his  way  through  the  monastio- 
likft  byways  of  such  {daces,  has  not  been  startled  to  And  himself  suddenly  light  upon  a  small 
enclosure,  comprising  a  tree  or  two,  and  a  little  circular  pool,  hardly  bigger  than  a  lawyer^s 
inViKfaiTi^i^  irith  a  so-caUed  fountain  in  Ihe  centre,  squirting  up  the  water  in  one  long  thick 
thread,  as  if  it  were  the  nozzle  of  a  flre-engine. 

But  such  are  the  features  only  of  the  more  important  Inns  of  Court,  as  Lincoln's  and 
Gray's^  and  the  Temple;  but,  inaddition  to  these,  there  exists  a  hige  series  of  legal  blind  alleys, 
or  yards,  which  are  entitled  **  Inns  of  Chancery,"  and  among  which  may  be  daased  the  lugu- 
brious localities  of  Lyon's  Inn  and  Barnard's  ditto,  and  Clement's,  and  Clifford's,  and  Sergeants', 
and  Staple,  and  the  like.  In  some  of  these,  one  solitary,  lanky-looking  lamp-post  is  the  only 
ornament  in  the  centre  of  the  backyard-like  square,  and  the  grass  is  seen  struggling  up  between 
the  interstices  of  the  pavement,  as  if  each  paying-stone  were  trimmed  with  green  ehmttte. 
In  another  you  find  the  statue  of  a  kneeling  negro,  holding  a  platter-like  sun-dial  oyer  his 
head,  and  seeming,  while  doomed  to  tell  the  time,  to  be  continually  inquiring  of  the  sur- 
rounding gentlemen  in  black,  whether  he  is  not ''  a  man  and  a  brother  ?"  In  another  you 
obaerye  crowds  of  lawyers'  derks,  with  their  hands  fiill  of  red-tape-tied  papers,  assembled 
outside  the  doors  of  new  clubhouse-like  buildings.  Moreoyer,  to  nearly  every  one  of  these 
legal  nooks  and  comers  the  entrance  is  through  some  archway  or  iron  gate  that  has  a  high 
bar  left  standing  in  the  middle,  so  as  to  obstruct  the  passage  of  any  porter's  load  into  the 
ehanoery  sanctuary;  and  there  is  generally  a  little  porter's  lodge,  not  unlike  a  French 
^aneiergm^j  adjoining  the  gate,  about  which  loiter  liveried  street-keepers  to  awe  off  littie 
boys,  who  would  otherwise  be  sure  to  dedicate  the  tranquil  spots  to  the  more  innocent  pursuit 
of  marbles  or  leap-frog. 

The  various  classes  of  Law  Courts  too  have,  one  and  all,  some  picturesque  characteristics 
about  them.  For  example,  is  not  the  atmosphere  of  Westminster  Hall  essentially  distinct  from 
that  of  the  Old  Bailey  ?  During  term  time  the  Hall  at  Westminster  (which  is  not  unlike  an 
empty  railway  terminus,  with  the  exception  that  the  rib-like  rafters  are  of  carved  oak  rather 
than  iron)  is  thronged  with  suitors  and  witnesses  waiting  for  their  cases  to  be  heard,  and  pacing 
the  Hall  pavement  the  while,  in  rows  of  three  or  four,  and  with  barristers  hero  and  there 
walking  up  and  down  in  dose  communion  with  attorneys ;  and  there  are  sprucely-dressed 
strangers  from  the  country,  either  bobbing  in  and  out  of  tiie  various  courts,  or  else  standing 
stilly  with  their  necks  bent  back  and  their  mouths  open,  as  they  stare  at  the  wooden  angels 
at  the  comers  of  the  oaken  timbers  overhead. 

The  Courts  here  are,  as  it  were,  a  series  of  ante-chambers  ranged  along  one  side  of  the 
spacious  Hall;  and  as  you  enter  some  of  them,  you  have  to  bob  your  head  beneath  a  heavy 
nd  doth  curtain.  The  judge,  or  judges,  are  seated  on  a  long,  soft-looking,  crimson-covered 
bench,  and  costumed  in  wigs  that  fall  on  either  side  their  face,  like  enormous  spaniel's  earis, 
and  with  periwigged  banisters  piled  up  in  rows  before  them,  as  if  they  were  so  many 
medieval  medical  students  attending  the  lectures  at  some  antiquated  hospital.  Then  there 
is  the  legal  fruit-stall,  in  one  of  the  neighbouring  passages,  for  the  distribution  of  '^  apples, 
oranges,  biscuits,  ginger-beer" — and  sandwiches — ^to  the  famished  attendants  at  Court ;  and 
the  quiet,  old-fashioned  hotels,  for  the  accommodation  of  witnesses  from  the  country,  ranged 
along  the  opposite  side  of  Palace  Yard. 

How  different  is  all  this  from  the  Central  Criminal  Court  at  the  Old  Bailey !  There  we 
find  a  laige  boiled-beef  establishment,  with  red,  steaming  rounds  in  the  window,  side  by 
aide  with  the  temple  of  justice,  and  a  mob  of  greasy,  petty  larceny-like  friends  of  the 
*'  prisoner  at  the  bar,"  and  prim-looking  policemen,  gathered  round  the  Court  doors  and 


74  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

beside  the  gateway  leading  •to  the  BherifiSs'  entrance  at  the  back,  waiting  the  issae  of  that 
day's  trials.  Then,  within  the  Court,  upon  the  bench,  there  are  the  aldermen,  reading  the 
daily  papers  or  writing  letters,  attired  in  their  purple  silk  gowns  trimmed  with  ^,  and  with. 
heaTy  gold  S  collars  about  their  neck ;  and  the  under-sherifis  in  their  court  suits,  with  their 
lace  fiills  and  ruffles — the  latter  encircling  the  hand  like  the  cut  paper  round  bouquets— 
with  their  black  rapiers  at  their  side,  and  all  on  the  same  seat  with  the  full-wigged  judges ; 
and  the  barristers  below  crowded  round  a  huge  loo-table,  that  is  littered  with  bags  and  briefe; 
'  and  the  jury  packed  in  their  box  at  one  side  of  the  little  court — ^which,  by  the  by,  seems 
hardly  bigger  than  a  back  parlour — ^with  a  long  "  day-reflector"  suspended  over  their  heads, 
and  throwing  an  unnatural  light  upon  their  faces ;  whilst  in  the  capacious  square  dock,  &cin^ 
the  bench,  stands  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  awaiting  his  doom,  with  the  Governor  of  Newgate 
seated  at  one  comer  of  the  compartment,  and  a  turnkey  at  the  other. 

This,  again,  is  all  very  different  from  the  shabby-genteel  crowd,  with  its  melange  of  *'  tip- 
staffs" and  sham-attorneys,  gathered  about  the  Insolvent  Court,  and  the  neighbouring  public- 
houses,  in  Portugal  Street ;  that,  too,  utterly  unlike  the  quaint,  old-fashioned  tribunals  in 
Doctor's  Commons ;  these,  moreover,  the  very  opposite  to  the  petty  County  Courts,  that  have 
little  to  distinguish  them  from  private  houses,  except  the  crowd  of  excited  debtors,  and 
creditors,  and  pettifoggers  grouped  outside  the  doors ;  and  those,  on  the  other  hand,  entirely 
distinct  from  the  still  more  insignificant  Police'  Courts,  with  their  group  of  policemen  on 
the  door-step,  and  where,  at  certain  hours,  may  be  seen  the  sombre-looking  prison-van, 
that  is  like  a  cross  between  a  hearse  and  an  omnibus,  with  the  turnkey  conductor  seated  in  a 
kind  of  japan-leather  basket  beside  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  vehicle. 

Farther,  there  arc  the  several  prisons  scattered  throughout  the  Metropolis,  and  forming 
an  essential  part  of  the  Legal  Capital :  the  gloomy,  and  yet  handsome  prison  pile  of  Newgate, 
with  its  bunch  of  fetters  over  each  doorway — the  odd  polygon-shaped  and  rampart-like  Peni- 
tentiary, perched  on  the  river  bank  by  Vauxhall — ^the  new  prison  at  Pentonville,  with  its 
noble,  portcullis-like  gateway — ^the  City  Prison  at  Holloway,  half  castle  half  madhouse, 
with  its  tall  central  tower,  reminding  one  of  some  ancient  stronghold — ^besides  the  less  pic- 
turesque and  bare-waUed  Coldbath  Pields,  and  TothiU  Fields,  and  Horsemonger  Lane,  and 
the  House  of  Detention,  and  Whitecross  Street,  and  the  Queen's  Bench — ^not  forgetting  the 
mastless  Hulks,  with  their  grim-looking  barred  port-holes. 

These,  however,  constitute  rather  the  legal  institutions  of  London  than  the  legal  locali- 
ties ;  and  that  there  are  certain  districts  that  are  chiefly  occupied  by  lawyers,  and  which 
have  a  peculiarly  lugubrious  legal  air  about  them,  a  half-hour's  stroU  along  the  purlieus  of 
the  Ttitih  of  Court  is  sufficient  to  convince  us. 

Of  this  Legal  London,  Chancery  Lane  may  be  considered  the  capital ;  and  here,  as  we 
have  before  said,  everything  smacks  of  the  law.  The  brokers  deal  only  in  legal  fumiture — 
the  publishers  only  in  ''Feabne  on  Remaindess  "  and  **  Ihfey's  Pbactice,"  and  such  like 
dry  legal  books — and  the  stationers  in  skins  of  parchment  and  forms  of  wills,  and  law-lists 
and  almanacs,  and  other  legal  appliances.  Then  the  dining-rooms  and  '<  larders,"  so  plentiful 
in  this  quarter,  are  adapted  to  the  taste  and  pockets  of  lawyers'  clerks ;  and  there  are 
fruiterers,  and  oyster-rooms,  and  **eafi-re8taurant^*  bakers,  and  *< Cocks,"  and  "Raistbow?," 
for  barristers  and  attorneys  to  lunch  at ;  and  "  sponging-houses,"  barred  like  small  lunatic 
asylums,  and  with  an  exercising  yard  at  the  back  like  a  bird-cage ;  and  patent-offices;  and 
public-houses,  frequented  by  bailiffs'  followers  and  managing  clerks;  and  quiet-looking 
taverns,  which  serve  occasionally  as  courts  for  commissions  ^*  de  lunatico.*' 

Then  stretching  in  all  directions  from  the  legal  capital,  with  its  adjacent  attorney  byways 
of  Cook's  Court,  and  Quality  Court,  and  Boswell  Court,  and  Southampton  Buildings,  we  have 
what  may  be  termed  the  legal  suburbs,  such  as  Bedford  Row,  with  its  annexed  James  and 
John  Streets,  and  the  doleful  Red  Lion  and  Bloomsbuiy  Squares,  and  Southampton  Street, 
Holbom.     In  the  opposite  direction,  we  find  the  equally  legal  Essex  Street,  and  Lancaster 


LEGAL  LONDON. 


75 


Place,  and  Somerset  Place,  and  Adam  Street  (Adelphi),  and  Buddngham  Street,  and  White- 
hall Place,  and  Parliament  Street,  and  Great  George  Street,  all  connecting,  by  a  series  ci 
legal  links.  Chancery  Lane  to  Westminster.  Again,  along  Holbom  we  have  the  ont-of-the- 
way  legal  nooks  of  Bartlett's  Buildings  and  Ely  Place.  Whilst,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  tbe 
Cily  Gouits  of  Guildhall,  there  are  the  like  legal  localities  of  King  Street,  Cheapside,  and 
Bucklersbury,  and  Basinghall  Street,  and  Old  Jewry  Chambers,  and  Coleman  Street,  and 
Tokenhouse  Yard,  and  CopthaU  Buildings,  and  Crosby  Chambers,  and  New  Broad  Street 
with  even  a  portion  of  the  legal  Metropolis  stretching  across  the  water  to  Wellington  Street 
in  the  Borough.* 

♦  The  subjoined  is  a  list  of  the  legal  localities  throughout  London,  as  indicated  by  the  Post-office 
Directory — a  legal  locality  being  considered  to  be  one  in  which  the  number  of  resident  lawyers  is  equal  to  at 
least  one-fourth  of  the  number  of  residences  : — 


No.  or 

Bfltldeqt  v^  of 

Attonieys. 

Unoofai'B  Inn  New  Square  266  14 

„  Old  Square  217  HI 

Fields        .  198  60 

.  150  135 


•ff 


Chancrry  Lane 

Kind's  Bench  Walk,  Tem. 

pie        ....  129  13 
Stone  Bai]diag8,Linooln*8 

Inn  ....  128  7 
Paper  Bnndlngi,  TempU  82  .« 
Pomp  Coart  „  .  78  6 
Bedford  Bow  •  .  .  99  51 
?nmiTal*Blnn  .  .  64  16 
Inner  Temple  Lane,  Tem- 
ple .  •  •  .  57  9 
BrifCik  Coort,  „  .  58  i5 
ElmOoart  ...  58  5 
fiootliSqnare,  Gray's  Inn  55  14 
Eawx  Ooart,  Temple  .  43  5 
Flowden  Bnjldingfl  .  40  5 
fl^trce  Court  „  .89  8 
fiare  Court  „  .87  5 
Sergeant!^     Inn,     Fleet 

Street   ....  37  16 
ffoQthamptoa  Buildings, 

Ghaneery  Lane     .       .  87  47 

Eaecx  Street,  Strand       .  85  49 

<rtd  Jewry  Street,  aty    .  85  87 
lf«w  Inn,  Wyeh  Street, 

Strand  ....  84  18 
Barooart  Bidldingt  .  84  4 
Bawinghall  Street,  City  .  84  84 
Great  Jamee  Street,  Bed- 
ford Bow  ...  82  42 
Tanfleld  Court,  Temple  .81  8 
Carey   Street,   LinooLn's 

Iim       ....  SO  68 

.Cbleman  Street,  dtj      .  29  81 

.Buddenlmry,  Cheapside  28  38 
Serle    Street,    Lincoln's 

IBA  ....  28  16 
JiitreCoart,  Temple  .  27  12 
Middle  Temple  Lane  .  27  6 
ataple  Inn,  Hoibom  .  27  12 
Crown  Office  £ow.  Tem- 
ple ....  27  11 
Baymond's      Baildings, 

Gray's  Inn   ...  35  6 
Ifew  BoswelLComt,  Carey 

Street    ....  25  17 
^Parliament  Strret,  West- 

minster         ...  25  55 

Kly  Place,  Hoibom .       .  23  42 

Cliflbrd*s  Ian,  Fleet  St.  .  21  17 

The  foUowing,  on  the  other 


No.  «f 
Reaident 
Bmrrlsten 

and 
Attorneji. 

Yernlam  Buildings, 

Gray's  Inn  ...  19 
ChnrehyardCt,  Temple  19 
Sergeants'  Inn,  Chancery 

Lane     ...  ig 

King's  Street,  Cheapside     17 
Tokenhonse  Yard,  l/>th- 

hury  .  .  .  .15 
Mitre  Court  Buildings, 

Temple  ...  15 
Bloomsbnry  Square  .  15 
Derereux  Court,  Strand  15 
Lancaster  Place,  Strand  .  15 
Austin  Friars,  CSty  .  .  15 
Whitehall Flace, Westmr.  It 
Barnard's  Inn  ...  14 
Walbrook,  City  ,  .  14 
New  Bridge  St.,  Black- 
friars  .  .  .  .13 
John  Street,  Bedford  Row  18 
Great     George     Street, 

Westminster  .  .13 
Greeham  Street,  City  .  12 
Southampton  St.,  Hoibom  12 
New  Conrt,  Temple  .  12 
Temple  Garden  Court  .  12 
New  Broad  Street,  City  .  11 
Quality  Court,  Chancery 

Lane  ....  11 
Sise  Lane,  Bucklersbury  11 
Farrar's  Buildings,  Tem- 
ple .  .  .11 
John  Street,  Adelphl  .  11 
King's  Arms  Tard,  Cole- 

man  street,  City  .  .  ll 
B:ing*s     Boad,    Bedford 

Row  .  '  .  .  ,11 
Gray's  Inn  Place  .    10 

Clement's  lim,.  Strand- 
New  Inn   '  .       ,       ,10 
Clement's  Lane,  Lombard 

Street  ....  10 
Temple  Cloisters,  Inner 

Temple  Lane  .  .  lo 
Inner  Temple  Hall  Stair. 

case  ....  9 
Lamb  Buildings  .  .  9 
Red  Lion  Sq.,  Hoibom  .  8 
Nicholas  Lane,  Lombard 

Street,  City  ...      8 
Great  Knight  Rider  Street    8 
Bell  Tard,  Doctor's  Com- 
mons •       .       •     8 


No  of 
Homes. 


5 
8 

8 

80 

27 

2 
48 
23 
10 
SO 
22 

9 
38 

42 
38 

37 
48 
23 
1 
4 
88 

9 
18 

JO 
22 

20 

22 
11 

18 

30 

2 

i 

4 
38 

89 
22 


Naor 
Resident     ^^^     . 

Attorneys. 
Symond's  Inn,  Chancery 
Lane     . 


8 


10 


8 

81 

8 

81 

7 

18 

6 

4 

6 

28 

6 

16 

5 

8 

5 

20 

5 

5 

5 

b 

5 

5 

5 

2 

4 

16 

10 

hand,  is  the  distrihution  of  the  lawyers 


B^rllett's  Buildings,  Hoi- 
bom     .       .       •       , 

Ironmonger  Lane,  City  . 

Fenchurch  Buildings 

Field  Court,  Gray's  Inn  . 

Buckingham  St.,  Strand 

Angel  Court,  Throgmor- 
ton  Street,  City    . 

Lyon's  Inn,  Fleet  Street. 

Adam  Street,  Adelphl     . 

Barge  Yard,  bucklers- 
bury    .       .       .       , 

Copthall  Bttildinga,  City  , 
Church  Court,  Clement's 

Lane,  City    . 
Tanfleld  Chambers . 
Wellington  St.,  Borough 
Temple  Chambers,  Falcon 
Court,  Fleet  Street      . 
Trafalgar  Square,  Char- 
ing Cross     . 
Somerset  Place,  Somerset 
House  .... 
Cook's  Ct.,Iincoln's  Inn 
Old  Palace  Yard,  West- 
minster 
Arthur  Street,  City . 
Temple    Church    Porch 

Chambers     . 
Walbrook  Buildings 
Whitehall  Chambers 
Twisden  Buildings,  Tem- 
ple       ...       . 


2417      2069 
Jkehr^s  Commons, 

No.  of 
Adrecates   No.  of 
and        Hootoa- 
rroctors. 

Great  Knight  Rider  St.  31         22 

College,  Doctor's  Com- 
mons            ...  18          17 

Great  Carter  Lane  .       .15  34 

Godllman  Street     .       .  23          15 

Dean's  Court  ...  8 

Bell  Yard        .               .  4         10 

Paul' s  Bakehouse  Court .  4 

Pope's  Head  Alley,  Com- 

hill       ....  8           7 

106      115 
and  the  lawyers'  clerks  and  la«  - 


4 

0 

4 

15 

8 

7 

8 

11 

3 

1 

8 

8 

8 

5 

76 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOl^ON. 


Now,  the  people  inhabitiiig  the  legal  localitieB  of  the  Metropolis  are  a  distinct  tribe, 
impressed  with  views  of  life  and  theories  of  human  nature  widely  different  from  the  more 
simple  portion  of  humanity.  With  the  legal  gentry  all  is  doubt  and  suspicion.  No  man  is 
worthy  of  being  trusted  by  word  of  mouth,  and  none  fit  to  be  believed  but  on  his  oath.  Tour 
true  lawyer  opines,  with  the  arch-diplomatiBt  Talleyrand,  that  speech  was  given  to  man  not 
to  express  but  to  conceal  his  thoughts ;  and,  we  may  add,  it  is  the  legal  creed  that  the  faculty 
of  reason  was  conferred  on  us  merely  to  enable  human  beings  to  **  special  plead,"  i.e.,  to 
split  logical  hairs,  and  to  demonstrate  to  dunderhead  jurymen  that  black  is  white. 

What  beauty  is  to  a  quaker,  and  philanthropy  to  a  political  economist,  honour  is  to  your 
gentleman  of  the  long  robe — a  moral  will-o'-the-wisp,  that  is  almost  sure  to  mislead  ^ose 
who  trust  to  it.  The  only  safe  social  guide,  cries  the  legal  philosopher,  is  to  consider  every 
one  a  rogue  till  you  find  him  honest,  and  to  take  the  blackest  view  of  all  men's  natures  in 
your  dealings  with  your  friends  and  associates;  believing  that  there  is  no  bright  side,  as  has 
been  well  said,  even  to  the  new  moon,  until  experience  shows  that  it  is  not  entirely  dark.  In 
legal  eyes,  the  idea  of  any  one's  word  being  as  good  as  his  bond  is  stark  folly ;  and  though, 
say  the  lawyers,  our  chief  aim  in  life  should  be  to  get  others  to  reduce  their  thoughts  to 
writing  towards  us,  yet  toe  should  abstain  frx)m  pen,  ink,  and  paper  as  long  as  possible,  so 
as  to  avoid  "  committing  ourselves "  towards  them.  Or  if,  in  the  frank  communion  of 
friendship,  we  are  ever  incautious  enough  to  be  betrayed  into  professions  that  might  hereafter 
interfere  with  our  pecuniary  interests,  we  should  never  fail,  before  concluding  our  letter, 
to  have  sufficient  worldly  prudence  to  change  the  subscription  of  **  Yours,  sincerely,"  into 
"Yours,  without prefudiee" 

That  lawyers  see  many  examples  in  life  to  afford  grounds  for  such  social  opinions,  all  must 
admit ;  but  as  well  might  surgeons  believe,  because  generally  dealing  with  sores  and  ulcers, 
that  none  are  healthy ;  and  physicians  advise  us  to  abstain  from  all  close  communion  with 
our  fellows,  so  as  to  avoid  the  chance  of  contagion,  because  some  are  diseased.  Nor  would  it 
be  fair  to  assert  that  every  lawyer  adopts  so  unchristian  and  Hobbesian  a  creed.  There  are 
many  gentlemen  on  the  roUs,  at  the  bar,  and  on  the  bench,  who  lean  rather  to  the  chivalrous 
and  trusting  than  the  cynic  and  sceptical  view  of  life;  and  many  who,  though  naturally 


court  officers,  above  twenty  years  of  age,  throughout  the  several  districts  of  London,  according  to  the  returns 
of  the  Census  Commissioners,  by  which  it  will  be  seen  that  the  greatest  number  of  lawyers  are  resident  in 
the  western  districts  by  Kensington,  whereas  the  greatest  numS^  of  clerks  are  found  located  in  the  northern 
districts  by  St.  Pancras  and  Islington ;  whilst  at  the  east  end  of  the  town,  such  as  Whitechapel  and  Poplar, 
on  the  Hiddesez  side,  and  Rotherhithe,  and  St.  Olave,  Southwark,  on  the  Surrey  side  of  the  water,  but  few 
lawyers  or  clerks  are  to  be  found  :— 

tawT»^  Clerta,  »,^-_|  No.  to 
"'^"*    Ac     ^***"'   MOO. 


Lawyers.     ^.   » Total,  jqoo. 


1000. 
15-7 

ao-7 

18-4 
16*6 
15-9 


1060       606      2066    20-2 


Kensington    .    723  118  840 

ChelMa  .       .    180  9ft  22ft 
St.  Oeorg«,  Ha- 

norerSq.    .829  99  428 

Wefltmintter .    180  180  260 

St.  Martinis  .     90  89  129 

St.  James       .169  2ft  184 

Total  

W.IMstricts 


Matylebone 
Hampstaad 
St.  Pancras 
lalington 
Haokney 
Total 
N.  Diatriots 


477 
101 
661 
266 
126 


1620      1712      8882    18'7 


181 

668 

16-0 

21 

122 

44-6 

680 

1841 

80-7 

664 

919 

88-6 

166 

292 

2*2 

St.  GUM        .    881       129       610    81*7 
Strand    .       .267       801       668    48-4 


Holbom 
Clerkenwell   . 
St.  Luke's 
East  London  . 
West  London . 
London  City  . 

Total 
Central  Dists. 


408 
121 
8ft 
£ft 
188 
120 


Shoreditch     . 
Bethnal  Oteen 
Whitechapel  . 
St.  Oeoni^  in 
the  East      . 
Stepney 
Poplar    . 
Total 
E.  Districts 

St.  SaTiour    . 
St.  OlaTO 


87 
17 
12 

7 
82 

12 

117 

16 

4 


296 
291 
77 
84 
160 
104 


€98 
412 
112 
69 
296 
224 


811 
64 
88 

80 

127 

20 


v4o 

81 
4ft 

87 

159 

82 


84 
16 


99 
19 


61.8 
22-9 
7-6 
4-7 
881 
18-7 


1498   1891   2810  26*4 


12-3 
8-6 
1-9 

2-7 
6-5 
2-4 


686        702      5*4 


9-8 
2-9 


Lairyen.  ^S^  Total.  '{ftLj* 


lonow 


Bermondsey  . 

ft 

4ft 

60 

S'» 

St.  George, 

Southwark 

4ft 

88 

188 

0-2 

Ifewington    . 

82 

221 

80S 

1-8 

Lambeth 

284 

421 

705 

801 

Wandsworth 

159 

72 

231 

18-» 

Camber  well  . 

180 

160 

i90 

2«*7 

Rotherhithe  . 

8 

18 

16 

81 

Greenwich     . 

92 

68 

160 

60 

Lewisham 

9T 

88 

185 

16-2 

Total 

S.  Distrieta 

916 

1215 

2181 

IS^ 

West  Districts  1660 

506 

2066 

80-9 

North       „ 

1620 

1712 

8382 

18-7 

Central    „ 

1490 

1891 

2881 

85-4 

East         „ 

117 

585 

702 

6^ 

Sonfh       „ 

916 

1216 

2131 

18-0 

Total 

— _ 

all  London 

6708 

6409 

11,112 

17-5 

LEGAL  LONDON.  77 

indining  towards  the  Bratas  philosophy,  and  preferring  stoical  justice  to  Christian  generosity, 
are  still  snifficiently  poetic  to  see  a  glimpse  of  **  good  in  all  things.'' 

MoreoYer,  it  is  our  duty  and  our  pride  to  add,  that  if  among  the  hody  of  legal  gentry 
tiiere  are  to  be  found  such  enormities  as  ** sharp  practitioners"  and  "pettifoggers" — 
scoundrels  who  seek  to  render  law  a  matter  of  wjustice,  and  who  use  that  which  was 
intended  to  prevent   injury  and  robbery  as  the  means  of  plunder  and  oppression — ^who 
regard  it  as  their  interest  to  retard,  rather  than  advance  justice,  and  who  love  equity  and  its 
long  delays  simply  on  account  of  the  iniquity  of  its  costs — ^if  there  be  such  miscreants  as 
these  included  among  the  legal  profession,  there  are,  on  the  other  hand,  the  most  noble  judges  of 
ihe  land  comprised  among  its  members ;  and  granting  we   should  estimate  the  true  dignity 
of  a  vocation  by  those  who  are  at  once  the  most  honourable  and  honoured  types  of  it,  we 
must  candidly  admit  that  there  is  no  office  which  sheds  so  pure  and  brOliant  a  glory  upon 
our  nation,  as  that  filled  by  the  righteous  and  reproachless  band  of  English  gentlemen  who 
occupy  the  judgment-seats  of  this  country.      For  whilst  in  every  other  kingdom  the  judge 
in  but  little  better  than  a  quibbling  and  one-sided  advocate — a  government  hireling,  trying  his 
hardest  to  convict  the  prisoner — the  British  arbiter  weighs,  with  an  exquisitely  even  hand,  the 
canflicting  testimony  in  favour  of  and  against  those  who  are  arraigned  at  his  tribunal,  and  with 
a  gracious  mercy  casts  into  the  trembling  scale — in  cases  of  indecision — the  lingering  doubt, 
so  as  to  make  the  evidence  on  behalf  of  the  accused  outweigh  that  of  his  accusers.     Nor  can 
even  the  most  sceptical  believe  that  it  is  possible  for  governments  or  private  individuals  to 
tempt  our  judges  to  swerve  from  the  strictest  justice  between  man  and  man,  by  any  bribe, 
however  precious,  or  by  any  worldly  honours,  however  dazzling.     Lideed,  if  there  be  one 
class  in  whose  iron  integrity  every  Englishman  has  the  most  steadfast  faith — of  whose  Pilate - 
like  righteousness  he  has  th^  profoimdest  respect,  and  in  the  immaculateness  of  whose  honour 
he  feels  a  national  pride — ^it  is  the  class  to  whom  the  high  privilege  of  dispensing  justice  among 
us  has  been  intrusted,  and  who  constitute  at  once  the  chiefs  and  the  ornaments  of  the 
ptTofesflion  of  which  we  are  about  to  treat. 

Concerning  the  popidation  of  this  same  "Legal  London,  it  may  be  said  to  comprise  the 
following  numbers  and  classes  of  persons  above  20  years  of  age : — 

Barristers  ......     1,513 

Solicitors  ......     3,418 

Other  lawyers  (as  advocates,  proctors,  &c.)  .772 


Law  clerks  ......     4,340 

Law  court  officers  (including  8  females)  and  law  stationers     1,069 


5,703 


5,409 


11,112* 
Hence,  if  we  include  the  families  of  the  above  individuals  (and,  according  to  the  returns  of 
the  Census  Commissioners,  there  are,  upon  an  average,  4-827  persons  to  each  family  through- 
oat  T^.Tig1«^ni1  and  Wales),  we  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  Legal  London  comprises  an  aggre- 
gate population  of  53,638  souls,  which  is  exactly  one  forty-fourth  part  of  the  entire 
metropolitan  population. 

Now,  the  next  question  that  presents  itself  to  our  consideration  concerns  the  order  and 
method  to  be  adopted  in  our  treatment  of  each  of  the  several  classes  of  people  and  institutions 
connected  with  the  administration  of  the  laws  in  the  Metropolis. 

In  our  previous  specification  of  the  various  details  comprised  under  the  term  Legal 

*  According  to  the  census  returns,  there  are — in  addition  to  tbe  above — 160  lawyers  and  1,530  clerks 
Ac— or,  altogether,  1,690  persons — connected  with  the  law  in  London  who  are  under  twenty  years  of  age; 
to  thaty  adding  these  to  the  total  above  giyen,  the  aggregate  of  lawyers  and  their  **  subordinates"  resident  in 
6 


78 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


London,  we  liave  spoken  of  it  as  comprehending  the  Inns  of  Court  and  the  people  in 
connection  therewith — ^the  Superior  Courts  of  Law,  Civil,  as  well  as  Criminal,  and  their 
various  legal  functionaries,  as  judges,  solicitors,  law  clerks,  and  law-court  officers — the 
County  Courts,  and  Police  Courts,  together  with  their  attendant  judges,  magistrates,  clerks, 
and  practitioners — and,  lastly,  the  Prisons,  with  the  governors,  turnkeys,  and  teachers 
attached  to  them. 

Such  a  list,  however,  has  but  little  logical  distinctness  among  the  parts  or  congruous 
unity  in  the  whole ;  hence,  we  must  seek  for  some  more  systematic  arrangement  and  classi- 
fication, under  which  to  generalize  the  various  particulars. 

The  most  simple  and  natural  mode  of  dividing  the  subject  appears  to  be  into  two  prin- 
cipal heads,  namely : — 

The  Metbopolitan  Ltstitutions  akd  People   conitbctei)  with  the  AnMiNiSTEATioir 

OP  THE  Civil  Law. 

Ain)  THE  Meteopolttait  iKSTiTUTioirs,  AND  Peofle  coitnected  with  the  Adudostea- 
TioN  OP  THE   Criminal  Law. 

Under  the  first  of  these  general  heads  is  comprised  the  following  particulars  : — 
The  Courts  of  Equity  ^  and  the  persons  connected  therewith. 
Ths  Courts  of  Common  Law,  Superior  as  well  as  Petty  and  Local,  and  the  several 

functionaries  and  practitioners  appertaining  to  them. 
The  Courts  of  Bankruptcy  and  Insokenoy,  with  the  professional  gentry  attached  to 

the  same. 
The  Debtors'  Prisons,  and  their  associate  officers. 


the  Metropolis  would  amount  to  12,802.    'i  he  diatribution  of  the  lawyen  ai^d  their  Bubordinates  throughout 
the  fleveral  counties  of  England  and  Wales,  is  as  follows : — 

TABLB  SHOWING  THB  DISTRIBUTION  OF  LAWTBRS   AND  THBIB  CLKRKS   (aBOYB  20  YXAB8  OF  AGB) 

THBOUOHOUT  ENGLAND  AND  WALES. 


DlTXSION  I. — MXTROPOLXt. 

T  ••«*«»  Clerks,  ip^*-,  No.  to 
Lawyort.    ^^     » Total   ^^^ 

London     .       .  5703     £401  11,104  17*5 


Dxviszoii  II.— South  Eabtbrn 
CouMTXica. 
Surrey  (ex-Me- 
tro.)     .        .    860 
Kent  (e«.Metro.)  883 


SUMCZ 

Hampfihfre 
Berkshire 

Total 


845 
292 
147 


208 

112 

146 

84 


446 
540 
457 
488 
231 


8-2 
4-1 
5-2 
4-0 
4-8 


1476       686      3113    4*8 


DiTisioif  III. — South  Midlahd 

COUNTXBB. 

Middlesex  (ex- 
Metro.)  .  270  80  850 
Hertfordshire  .115  51  166 
Buckinghamshire  70  60  139 
Oxfordnhiro  .  104  64  158 
Northampton-    • 

shire      .        .    105         59  164 

Huntingdonshire  83         81  68 

Bedfordshire    .      45         24  69 

Cambridgeshire    113         94  207 


8'9 
3*6 
8-8 
8*4 

3-8 
41 
2-2 
41 


Total 


868        453      1816    41 


DxTXSXOir   v.— Eastrrk  Couxtiks. 
Essex.      .        .    194        131        325    3  5 
Suffolk      •        .    172        115        287    3-4 
Norfolk    ..    293       194       486    4-3 


Total 


658        440      1098    3-7 


DirmoN  y. — South  Wbstxrn 
Couiytiks. 

T  «wv.M  Clerks,  rr«».i   No.  to 
Lawyen,     *.      Total.    ,^0. 


Wiltshire       .  143 

Dorsetiihire   .  131 

DeTonshire    .  497 

Oornwall        .  163 

Somersetshire  403 


ftc. 

98 

84 

275 

123 

326 


240 
3U5 
772 
285 
629 


1000. 

8-8 
4-5 
5-8 
8-8 
5-5 


Total   .  1325        806      3131     4-7 


DxviBioK  VI.— Wkst  Midlami) 
OouMTise. 

Glo'stershire.    478       343       731     6*6 


Herefordshire  100 
Shropshire  .  187 
Staffordshire .  378 
Worcestershire  357 
Warwickshire    284 


58       158     6-6 


150 
334 
147 
288 


837  5-0 

512  80 

404  6-9 

467  3-6 


Total   .  1584      1065      2599     66 


DiTisxoif  VII.— North  MiDLAin) 

COUMTIJCS. 

Leicestershire  100  84  184  8*0 
Rutlandshire  8  6  18  1*9 
Unoolnshire  .  307  188  390  8-6 
Nottingham- 
shire .  .118  106  234  3-9 
Derbyshire    .    126         64  190  2-7 


Total 


559       443-    1001     83 


DxvisioM  VIU.— North  Wsbtrhst 
CovHTrsB. 

Lawyc.  Cl«*s.  Total.  JJS;^? 
Cheshire        .    807        344       651     34 
Lancashire     .  1025       777      1802     8'8 

Total   1882      1031      2868     8-8 

Division  IX.— ToRXsaiax. 

West  Riding.  611  467  1078  8-1 
East  Riding  .233  186  418  6-1 
North  Riding     121         64       195     8-5 


Total 


964        717      1681     85 


Division  X. — Nortbxkn  Countibs. 


Durham         .  175 
Northumber- 
land   .       .  169 
Cumberland  .  103 
Westmoreland  81 


188        318     30 


111 
78 
31 


280     8-6 

175     8-4 

62     8*8 


Toua 


477 


848        820     83 


Division  XI.— MoNHouTHSuxax  anv 
Walks. 

Monmouth- 
shire .       .      83  6^  187  2-6 
South  Wales.    246  228  460  2-0 
North  Wales  .158  137  295  8-8 

Total    .4)6  415        901      &-7 

Totnl    for   all  

England  aiid 

Wales         .  15,377  11,789  27,116    6*7 


LEGAL  LONDON.  79 

The  JSceknastteal  and  Admn'd^  Courts,  with  their  attendant  judges,  advocates, 
proctors,  &c. 
Whereas,  tinder  the  second  head  of  the  Metropolitan  Institutions  and  people  in  connec- 
tiaa  with  the  Orimmal  Law,  we  have  the  following  suh-heads : — 

Tke  Orimmai  Courts  and  Sessions  Houses,  with  their  several  officers  and  practitioners. 
The  Poliee  (hurts  and  the  magistrates,  their  clerks  and  others  attached  thereto. 
I%e  Coroneri  Courts,  and  the  several  people  connected  with  them. 
2%e  Crmtnal  Fnsons,  and  their  associate  governors,  turnkeys,  &c. 
Such  an  arrangement  appears  to  exhaust  the  subject,  especially  when  certain  minor 
points  come  to  be  filled  in — as,  for  example,  the  Patent  Offices  and  Lunacy  Commissions 
in  connection  with  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Lord  Chancellor,  and  the  granting  of  licenses  at 
the  Yorions  Sessions  Houses  by  the  justices  of  the  peace — ^which  latter  function,  though 
hardly  connected  with  the  Ciiminal  Law,  must  still  (for  the  sake  of  avoiding  an  over- 
complicity  of  details)  be  treated  of  under  that  head. 

There  are,  of  course,  two  ways  of  dealing  with  the  above  particulars — either  we  may 
commence  with  the  beginning,  and  so  work  doum  to  the  end ;  or  we  may  reverse  the  process, 
and  beginning  at  the  bottom,  proceed  gradually  up  to  the  top.  The  first  method  is  the 
one  generally  adopted  by  systematic  writers.  On  the  present  occasion,  however,  we  purpose 
taking  the  opposite  course ;  and  we  do  so,  not  from  mere  caprice,  but  because  there  happen 
to  be  such  things  as  '*  terms  and  returns "  in  Law,  which  give  a  periodical  rather  than 
a  oontinnouB  character  to  legal  proceedings,  and  so  prevent  attention  to  such  matters 
at  aU  times.  Accordingly,  as  neither  perspicuity  nor  interest  is  lost  by  pursuing  the  latter 
plan,  we  shall  here  begin  our  exposition  of  the  character,  scenes,  and  doings  of  Legal 
London,  by  dealing  first  with  the  Criminal  Prisons  of  the  Metropolis. 


6« 


80  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


Sub-diyiiioii  A.— The  Metropolitan  InstitiLtioiMy  and  People  oonnected  with  the 

Adminifltration  of  the  Criminal  Law. 

§1. 

THE  CRIMINAL  PRISONS  AND  PRISON-POPULATION  OP  LONDON. 

There  is  a  long  and  multifaiions  list  of  priBons  distributed  throaghout  London,  if  we  include 
all  the  places  of  confinement,  from  the  state  or  political  stronghold  down  to  the  common  jail 
for  the  county — ^firom  the  debtor's  prison  to  the  sponging-house — firom  the  penitentiary  to 
the  district  "  lock-up."  Thus  we  have  the  Tower  and  the  Hulks ;  and  Whitecross  Street 
prison,  and  the  Houses  of  Correction  and  Detention;  and  the  Queen's  Bench,  and  the 
Penitentiary  at  Millbank ;  as  well  as  the  Female  Convict  Prison  at  Brixton,  and  the  oonunon 
jail,  Horsemonger  Lane;  besides  the  ''Model"  at  Pentonville,  the  New  City  Prison  at 
Holloway,  and  the  well-known  quarters  at  Newgate ;  together  with  the  cells  at  the  several 
station-houses  of  the  Metropolitan  and  City  Police,  and  the  sponging-houses  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Chancery  Lane — all  of  which  come  imder  the  denomination  of  places  of  safe 
custody,  if  not  of  punishment  and  reform. 

We  shall  find,  however,  amid  the  apparent  confusion  of  details,  that  there  are  in  London 
only  three  distinct  kinds  of  places  of  safe  custody,  viz. : — 

Political  or  State  P&isoks — such  as  the  Tower  and  the  Strong-room  of  the  House  of 
Commons ; 

Civil  op  Debtobs'  Pbisons — as  the  Queen's  Bench  and  the  one  in  Whitecross  Street, 
together  with  a  portion  of  Horsemonger  Lane  Jail ;  and 

Cbdcinal  PmsoNS ;  of  which  we  are  about  to  treat. 

Of  these  same  Criminal  Prisons  there  are  just  upon  a  dozen  scattered  through  London ; 
and  it  is  essential  to  a  proper  understanding  of  the  subject  that  we  should  first  discriminate 
accurately  between  the  several  members  of  the  family.  As  yet  no  one  has  attempted  to 
group  the  places  of  confinement  for  criminals  into  distinct  classes ;  and  we  have,  therefore, 
only  so  many  vague  terms— ^as  **  Convict"  Prisons  (though,  strictly,  every  offender — the 
misdemeanant  as  well  as  the  transport — ^is  afltr  conviction  a  convict)  and  ''Houses  of  Correc- 
tion," ''  Houses  of  Detention,"  "  Bridewells,"  &c.,  to  prevent  us  confounding  one  species  of 
Criminal  Prison  with  another. 

Formerly  every  class  of  criminals  and  graduate  in  vice — from,  the  simple  novice  to  the 
artful  adept — ^the  debtor,  the  pickpocket,  the  burglar,  the  coiner,  the  poacher,  the  high- 
wayman, the  vagrant,  the  murderer,  the  prostitute—were  all  of  them  huddled  together  in 
one  and  the  same  place  of  durance,  called  the  ''  Common  Jail"  (for  even  "  Houses  of  Cor- 
rection"— for  vagrants  and  thieves  onfy — ^are  comparatively  modem  inventions) ;  and  it  was 
not  until  the  year  1823  that  any  systematic  legal  steps  were  taken  to  enforce  a  separation  of 
the  great  body  of  prisoners  Into  dosses,  much  more  into  individuals — ^the  latter  being  a 
regulation  of  very  recent  date. 

Of  late  yean,  however,  we  have  made  rapid  advances  towards  the  establishment  of  a 
kind  of  criminal  quarantine,  in  order  to  stay  the  spread  of  that  vicious  infection  which  is 
found  to  accompany  the  association  of  the  morally  disordered  with  the  comparatively  imcon- 
taminated ;  for  assuredly  there  is  a  criminal  epidemic — a  very  plague,  as  it  were,  of  profli- 
gacy— ^that  diffuses  itself  among  the  people  with  as  much  fatality  to  society  as  even  the  putrid 
fever  or  black  vomit. 

Consequently  it  becomes  necessary,  whilst  seeking  here  to  arrange  our  present  prisons 
into  something  like  system,  to  classify  them  according  to  the  grades  of  offenders  they  are 
designed  to  keep  in  safe  custody ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  marked  features  of  our  times  that 


THE  CRIMINAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON.  81 

the  old  Conunon  Jail  is  beoomiog  as  obsolete  among  us  as  biill-baiting,  and  that  the  one  indis- 
criminate stronghold  has  been  divided  and  parcelled  out  into  many  distinct  places  of 
durance,  where  the  reformation  of  the  offender  obtains  more  considerationy  perhaps,  than  even 
bia  punishment. 

Now  the  first  main  diyision  of  the  criminal  prisons  of  London  is  into-» 
Prisons  for  offenders  hefore  conviction ;  and 
Prisons  for  offenders  afUr  conviction. 

This  is  not  only  the  natural  hxiijtut  division  of  the  subject,  since  it  is  now  admitted  that 
society  has  no  right  to  treat  a  man  as  a  criminal  until  he  has  been  proven  to  be  one  by  the 
laws  of  his  country;  and  hence  we  have  prisons  for  the  untried — distinct  from  those  for  the 
<»nvicty  or  rather  convicted. 

The  prisons  for  offenders  ajUr  conviction  are  again  divisible  into  places  of  confinement 
for  such  as  are  condemned  to  longer  or  shorter  terms  of  imprisonment.  To  the  latter  class  of 
institutions  belong  the  Houses  of  Correction,  to  which  a  person  may  be  sentenced  for  not 
more  than  two  years  \  and  Bridewells,  to  which  a  person  may  be  condemned  for  not  more 
than  three  months.* 

The  prisons,  on  the  other  hand,  for  the  reception  of  those  condemned  to  longer  terms,  such 

*  *<  There  is  a  speeies  of  jail,"  aays  the  new  edition  of  Blackstone, "  which  does  not  fall  under  the  sheriff'a 
ehftrge,  but  is  governed  by  a  keeper  wholly  independent  of  that  officer.  It  is  termed,  by  way  of  distinction  from 
the  common  jail,  a  House  of  Correction,  or  (in  the  City  of  London)  a  Bridewell.  These  houses  of  correction 
(which  were  first  established,  as  it  would  seem,  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth)  were  originally  designed  for  the 
penal  confinement,  after  conviction,  of  paupers  refusing  to  work,  and  other  persons  falling  under  the  legal 
description  of  vaiyranL  And  this  was  at  first  their  only  application,  for  in  other  oases  the  common  jail  of  the 
county,  city,  or  town  in  which  the  offender  was  triable  waa  (generally  speaking)  the  only  legal  place  of 
commitment.  The  practice,  however,  in  this  respect  was,  to  a  certain  extent,  altered  in  the  reign  of  George 
L,  when  '  vagrants  and  other  persons  charged  with  small  offences '  were,  for  the  first  time,  allowed  to  be 
conunitted  to  the  house  of  correction  for  safe  custody,  before  conviction ;  and  at  a  subsequent  period  it  waa 
provided  that,  as  to  vagrants,  the  house  of  correction  should  be  the  only  legal  place  of  commitment  The 
uses,  however,  of  a  jail  of  this  description  have  been  lately  carried  much  farther ;  for  by  5  and  6  William  lY., 
«.  S8,  8.  34,  reciting  that  great  inconvenience  and  expense  had  been  found  to  result  f^om  the  committing  to 
the  common  jail,  where  it  happens  to  be  remote  from  the  place  of  trial.  It  is  enacted  that  a  justice  of  the 
peace  or  coroner  may  commit,  for  safe  custody,  to  any  house  of  correction  situate  near  the  place  where  the 
assizes  or  sessions  are  to  be  held,  and  that  ofienders  sentenced  in  those  courts  to  death,  transportation,  or 
imprisonment,  may  be  committed  in  execution  of  such  sentence  to  any  house  of  correction  for  the  county." — 
Supken^  BlacknUme,  3rd  ed.,  vol.  iii,  p.  209. 

The  City  Bridewell  (Bridge  Street,  Blaekfnara)  has  been  closed  for  the  last  two  years.  The  prison  here 
was  originally  a  place  of  penal  confinement  for  unruly  apprentices,  sturdy  beggars,  and  disorderly  persons 
committed  to  jail  for  three  months  and  less.  Where  the  City  Bridewell  now  stands  there  is  said  to  have 
keen  anciently  a  holy  well  of  medicinal  water,  called  St.  Bride's  Well,  upon  which  was  founded  an  hospital 
for  the  poor.  (Stowc,  however,  says  nothing  of  this,  speaking  only  ot&palaee  standing  there.)  After  the 
Beformation,  Edward  YI.  chartered  this  to  the  City,  and  whilst  Christchureh  was  dedicated  to  the  education 
of  the  young,  and  St.  Thomas's  Hospital,  in  the  Borough,  for  the  cure  of  the  sick.  Bridewell  Hospital 
was  converted  into  a  place  of  confinement  and  **  penitentiary  amendment "  for  unruly  London  apprentices 
and  disorderly  persons,  as  well  as  sturdy  beggars  and  vagrants.  **  Here,"  says  Mr.  Timbs,  in  his  curious  and 
learned  work  on  the  Curiosities  of  London,  *'  was  a  portrait  of  Edward  Yl.  with  these  lines — 

*  This  Edward  of  fair  memory  the  Sixt, 
In  whom  with  Great  Goodness  was  commixt, 
Gave  this  BrideweU^  a  palace  in  olden  times. 
For  a  Chastening  House  of  vagrant  crimes.' " 

After  this,  the  houses  of  correction  in  various  parts  of  the  country  ^ot  to  be  called  "bridewells  ** ^the 

particular  name  coming,  in  course  of  time,  to  be  used  as  a  general  term  for  a  place  of  penitentiary  amend- 
Bcnt.  A  *^ house  of  correction"  is  now  understood  to  be  a  place  of  safe  custody,  punishment,  and 
reformation,  to  which  criminals  are  committed  when  sentenced  to  imprisonment  for  terms  varying  £rom 
•sren  days  up  to  two  years. 


82  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

as  transportation  and  ''penal  serrice/'  are  those  at  Fentonyille,  Millbanlc,  and  Brixton^ 
as  well  as  the  HuUts  at  Woolwich. 

The  prisons,  moreover,  which  are  for  the  reception  of  criminals  hefore  conyiction,  are 
either — 

Prisons  in  which  offenders  are  confined  while  awaiting  their  trial  after  having  been  com- 
mitted by  a  magistrate — snch  as  the  prisons  of  Newgate  and  Horsemonger  Lane,  as  well  as 
the  House  of  Detention ;  or  "  Lock-ups/'  in  which  offenders  are  confined  previom  to  being 
brought  up  before,  and  committed  by,  the  sitting  magistrate— -such  as  the  cells  at  the  yarious 
station-houses. 

According,  then,  to  the  above  classification,  the  Criminal  Prisons  admit  of  being  arranged 
into  the  following  groups : — 

I.  Prisons  for  Opfendebs  After  ComncTioK. 

A.  "  Convict ^^  Prisons* — ^for  transports  and  "penal  service"  men. 

1 .  Pentonville  Prison. 

2.  Millbank  Prison. 

3.  Female  Convict  Prison,  Brixton. 

4.  Hulks,  "Woolwich. 

B.  "  Correctional^^  Prisons — ^for  persons  sentenced  to  short  terms  of  punishment. 

1.  City  House  of  Correction  (Holloway). 

2.  Middlesex  Houses  of  Correction. 

a.  Coldbath  Fields  Prison,  for  adult  males. 

b.  TothiU  Fields  Prison,  for  boys  and  adult  females. 

3.  Surrey  House  of  Correction  (Wandsworth  Common). 

n.  Pbi8oi7s  fob  Ofkekdsbs  Before  Cokvionoir. 

A.  Det&ntional  Prisons — ^for  persons  after  committal  by  a  magistrate. 

1.  Middlesex  House  of  Detention  (Clerkenwell). 

2.  Newgate. 

3.  Horsemonger  Lane  Jail.f 

B.  Lo^-ups — for  persons  i^motM  to  committal  by  a  magistrate. 

1.  Metropolitan  Police  Cells. 

2.  City  do      do.J 

%*  Of  the  Prison  Population  of  London. — ^The  number  of  offenders  said  to  pass  annually 
through  the  metropolitan  prisons  is  stated  at  about  36,000.  These  statistics,  however,  are 
of  rather  ancient  date,  and  proceed  from  no  very  reliable  source.  We  will  therefore 
endeavour  to  sum  up,  with  as  much  precision  as  possible,  the  great  army  of  criminals  that 
pass  through  the  several  jails  of  London  in  ih.e  course  of  the  year : — 


*  ThU  is  the  Oovemment  term;— the  lav  diatinguiflhiDg  between  a  "  oonyict"  (or,  llterallj,  a 
felon)  and  a  "  convicted  misdemeanant." 

t  This  is  the  only  existing  Common  Jail  in  London,  i.  «.,  the  only  place  where  debtors  are  still  confined 
under  the  same  roof  as  felons. 

t  The  cant  or  thieves'  names  for  the  several  London  prisons  or  "  storbons  "  (Ger.  ge-^torhen^  dead,  and 
hence  a  place  of  execution),  is  as  follows : — 

Pentonville  Prison The  Model, 

Millbank  Prison „  'TVncA  (abbieTiated  from  Penitentiary). 

The  Hulks,  or  any  Public  Works        .        .        .      „  Boat, 
£[ouse  of  Correction,  Coldbath  Fields  .        .        .      „  SteeL 
House  of  Correction,  Tothill  Fields    .         .        •      „  Downs, 
City  Bridewell,  Bridge  Street,  Blackfriars  .        ,      yy  (Hd  Soree. 

Newgate „  Start, 

Horsemonger  Lane  Jail „  Zam.  \ 


THE  CRIMINAL  PIIISONS  OF  LONDON. 


83 


>} 


>» 


>i 


>> 


» 


99 


KinrBES  O?    PBISONEBS   "  FA8SD7G  THBOUGH "   THE    LONPON 

PentonviUe  Prison  (a.d.  1854-5) 

Millbank 

Brirton 

Hulks 

Total  Populatioii  of  the  London  Convict  Prisons 
City  House  of  Correction  (a.d.  1854-5) 
Coldbath-fields 
TothiU  Fields 
Surrey 

Total  Population  of  the  Correctional  Prisons 
House  of  Detention  ...... 

Newgate 

Horsemonger  Lane  Jail     ..... 

Total  Population  of  the  Detentional  Prisons 

Grand  Total  of  the  Population  of  the  London  Prisons 
Metropolitan  Police  Stations  (1854) 
City  Police  Stations  >>       • 

Total  Population  of  the  London  Police  Stations    . 

Total  Population  of  all  London  Prisons  an<i  Lock-ups 


PBISOKS    BUBIKa    THE  TRAIL 

925 

2,461 

664 

1,513 

5,563 

1,978 
7,743 
7,268 
5,170 


11,262 
1,840 
3,010 


-22,159 


16,112 


43,834 


76,614 

4,487 


-81,101 
124,935* 


But  a  considerable  proportion  of  this  large  number  of  prisoners  appear  more  than  once  in 
the  returns,  as  they  pass  from  the  police-stations,  after  eommittal  by  the  magistrates,  to  the 
detentional  prisons,  there  to  await  their  trial,  and  are  thence  transferred,  after  canviotion, 
either  to  correctional  or  ''conyicf  prisons,  according  as  they  are  condemned  to  longer  or 
shorter  terms  of  imprisonment.  Moreover,  even  of  those  condemned  to  three,  or  indeed  to 
six,  months'  imprisonment,  many  appear  repeatedly  in  the  a^^regate  of  the  correctional 
prisons  for  the  entire  year;  so  that  it  becomes  extremely  difficult  to  state,  with  any  exactitude, 
-what  may  be  the  number  of  different  offenders  who  enter  the  London  prisons  in  the  course 
of  twelve  months.  The  sum-total  may,  however,  be  roughly  estimated  at  about  20,000 
individuals ;  for  this  is  a  little  less  than  the  aggregate  of  the  convict  and  correctional  prisons 
of  the  Metropolis,  and  of  course  includes  those  passing  first  through  the  detentional  prisons 
and  lock-ups,  the  difference  between  that  aggregate  and  the  sum  of  the  convict  and  correc- 
tional prisons  being  a  set-off  against  those  who  appear  more  than  once  in  the  year  at  the 
houses  of  correction. 

This,  however,  is  the  eueeeame  prison  population  for  the  whole  year;  the  simuUaneoue  prison 
population,  on  the  other  hand,  for  taij  particular  ^p&ciod  of  the  year,  maybe  cited  at  somewhere 
about  6,000  individuals ;  for,  according  to  the  Government  returns,  there  were  at  the  time 
of  taking  the  last  Census  rather  more  than  that  number  of  criminals  confined  within 

*  Th«  tetmns  aboTe  given  rest  upon  the  following  authority : — The  number  of  oriminalfl  in  the  oonviot 
prisons  is  quoted  from  the  Beports  of  those  prisons.  The  numbers  of  the  correctional  and  detentional  prisons 
have  been  kindly  and  expressly  furnished  by  the  Gtovemors  of  those  institutions  respeotiyely;  whilst 
those  of  the  Metropolitan  Police  are  copied  from  the  last  report  on  the  subject,  and  those  of  the  City  Police 
•applied  by  the  Commissioner. 

Hie  number  of  debtors  confined  in  the  Metropolitan  prisons  in  the  summer  of  1855  was  as  follows :-« 
Whitecroes  Street  Prison  (on  the  18th  August,  1855)       ....      233 
Queen's  Bench  „  ....      134 

Honemon^  Lane  Jail  (on  the  2(Kh  August,  1855)         ....        46 


413 


84  THE  GEEAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 

the  metropolitan  jails — end  this  is  very  nearly  the  population  of  the  entire  town  of  Folke- 
stone.* 

Further,  the  gross  annual  expense  of  these  same  criminal  prisons  of  London  is  about 
£1 70,000,  or  very  nearly  one-third  of  all  the  prisons  in  England  and  Wales,  which,  according 
to  the  Goyemment  returns,  cost,  in  round  numbers,  £385,000  per  annum.f 

%*  Of  the  Character  of  the  London  CHminaU. — ^Li  the  Eeport  of  the  Constabulary  Com- 
missioners, published  in  1837,  and  which  remains  the  most  trustworthy  and  practical  treatise 
on  the  criminal  classes  that  has  yet  been  published — ^the  information  having  been  derived 
from  the  most  eminent  and  experienced  prison  and  police  authorities — ^there  is  a  definition 
of  predatory  crime,  which  expresses  no  theoretical  view  of  the  subject,  but  the  bare  fact — 
referring  habitual  dishonesty  neither  to  ignorance  nor  to  drunkenness,  nor  to  poverty,  nor  to 
over-crowding  in  towns,  nor  to  temptation  from  surrounding  wealth,  nor,  indeed,  to  any  one 
of  the  many  indirect  causes  to  which  it  is  sometimes  referred,  but  simply  declariug  it  to 
''proceed  from  a  disposition  to  acquire  property  with  a  less  degree  of  labour  than  ordinary 
industry/'     Hence  the  predatory  class  are  the  non-working  class — that  is  to  say,  those  who 

*  The  gross  number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  in  the  coune  of  the 
year  1849,  was  as  under  :— 

Criminals  of  both  sexes 157,273 

Debtors 9,669 

Total 166,942 

Hence  it  follows  that  the  criminals  passing  annually  through  the  London  prisons  (43,834)  form  more  than 
one- third  of  the  entire  number  passing,  in  the  same  period,  through  all  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales;  for 
out  of  every  1000  offenders  entering  the  jails  throughout  the  whole  country  during  the  twelvemonth,  284 
appear  in  Uie  jails  of  London  alone. 

Such  is  the  guceessive  ratio  between  the  prisoners  confined  in  the  London  prisons,  and  those  of  all  England 
and  Wales.    The  timultaneom  ratio  on  the  other  hand  is  as  follows : — 
The  number  of  prisoners  (debtors  inclusive)  confined  in  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  on  the  day 

of  taking  the  last  Census  was 23,768 

The  number  of  prisoners  confined  in  the  London  prisons  on  the  same  day 6,188 

Thus  it  appears  that  in  every  1000  prisoners  confined  in  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  at  one  and  tlie 
same  time,  280  belong  to  London. 

t  The  total  yearly  expense  of  the  scYeral  London  prisons  (exdusiTO  of  repairs,  alterations,  and  additions), 
a^d  the  average  cost  per  head,  is  as  follows : — 

Total  Exp««..       ,^^„ 

rtwrirf  iVwoiM—  £        s,  d.  £     «,  A 

Pentonville  (a.d.  1854-55) 14,912  18  9  26  11  8 

Millbank                   „ 83,175    0  6  25  10  4 

Brixton                    „ 12,218    0  0  17    9  1 

Hulks  at  Woolwich  „ 26,297    9  10  27  13  0 

Correetumal  Prisons — 

Coldbath  Fields        „ 30,067  18  1  21  18  8 

Tothill  Fields  (a.d.  1849) 14,798  16  0  19    9  10} 

City  House  of  Correc  ion,  Holloway  (a.d.  1854-56)  .        .  4,599     8  3)  25     7  lOJ 

Surrey  House  of  Correction,  Wandsworth          „         ,        .  12,158    4  4  18    8  7i 

Deieniional  Prisons — 

House  of  Detention  (a.d.  1854-55) 7,141     9  1  55    4  2 

Newgate                               „              6,800    6  2  87    8  2 

HorsemongerLane  Jail  (inclusive  of  debtors),,    .  4,693    19  30    0  8j 

Now,  by  the  above  list,  the  items  of  which  have  been  mostly  supplied  expressly  for  this  work  by  the 
officials,  it  will  be  found  that  the  total  expense  of  all  the  London  prisons  for  one  year  amounts  to 
£158,733  Is.  Id.;  whilst,  according  to  the  Fifteenth  Report  of  the  Prison  Inspectors,  the  total  expense  of 
all  the  prisons  in  England  and  Wales  is  £385,704  IBs.  Aid,,  so  that  the  cost  of  the  London  priaona  ia 
nearly  one-half  o(  those  throughout  the  whole  of  the  country. 


COHVICTS. 

[From  PhtitsgTipliibjiEcitertWatUni,  ITS,  RegfatSUvet.) 
mix  OOKTlCr  at  PeKTOKVILLB  PBISOK.  I  FEHAIX  CONVICT  AT 


THE  CRIMINAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON.  87 

lore  to  *'  shake  a  firee  leg/'  and  lead  a  roving  life,  as  they  term  it,  rather  than  settle  down 
to  any  continnoxiB  employment. 

To  inquire,  therefore,  into  the  mode  and  means  of  living  peculiar  to  the  criminal  classes, 
involves  an  investigation  into  the  character  and  causes  of  crime.  Grime,  vice,  and  sin  are 
three  terms  used  for  the  infraction  of  three  different  kinds  of  laws — social,  moral,  and 
religions.  Crime,  for  instance,  is  the  tran^ression  of  some  social  law,  even  as  vice  is  the 
breach  of  some  moral  law,  and  sin  the  violation  of  some  religious  one.  These  laws  often 
difGer  only  in  emanating  from  different  authorities,  the  infraction  of  theiti  being  simply  an 
offence  against  a  different  power.  To  thieve,  however,  is  to  offend,  at  once  socially,  morally, 
and  religiously ;  for  not  only  does  the  social,  but  the  moral  and  religious  law,  one  and  all, 
enjoin  that  we  should  respect  the  property  of  others. 

But  there  are  offences  against  the  social  powers  other  than  those  committed  by 
snch  as  object  to  labour  for  their  livelihood ;  for  the  crimes  perpetrated  by  the  professional 
criminals  are,  so  to  speak,  habitual  ones,  whereas  those  perpetrated  occasionally  by  the 
other  classes  of  society  are  aecidental  crimes,  arising  from  the  pressure  or  concomitance  of 
a  variety  of  circumstances. 

Here,  then,  we  have  a  most  important  and  fundamental  distinction.  All  crimes,  and 
consequently  all  criminals,  are  divisible  into  two  different  classes,  the  habitwd  and  the  eaeual 
— ^that  is  to  say,  there  are  two  distinct  orders  of  people  continually  offending  against  the 
laws  of  society,  viz.  (1)  those  who  indulge  in  dishonest  practices  as  a  regular  means  of 
living ;  (2)  those  who  are  dishonest  from  some  accidental  cause. 

Now,  it  is  impossible  to  arrive  at  any  accurate  knowledge  of  the  subject  of  crime  and 
criminals  generally,  without  first  making  this  analysis  of  the  several  species  of  offences 
according  to  their  causes ;  or,  in  other  words,  without  arranging  them  into  distinct  groups 
or  classes,  accordmg  as  they  arise,  either  from  an  habitual  indisposition  to  labour  on  the  part 
of  some  of  the  offenders,  or  from  the  temporary  pressure  of  circumstances  upon  others. 

The  official  returns  on  this  subject  are  as  unphilosophic  as  the  generality  of  such 
documents,  and  consist  of  a  crude  mass  of  incongruous  facts,  being  a  statisticsd  illustration  of 
the  ^'ruiie  fndi^estaque  moles  "  in  connection  with  a  criminal  chaos,  and  where  a  murderer  is 
classed  in  the  same  category  with  the  bigamist,  a  sheep-stealer  with  the  embezzler,  and  the 
Irish  rebel  or  traitor  grouped  vrith  the  keeper  of  a  disorderly  house,  and  he,  again,  with  the 
poacher  and  perjurer. 

Thus  the  several  crimes  committed  throughout  the  country  are  officially  arranged  under 
four  heads : — 

1.  Offmeee  againtt  the  person — including  murder,  rape,  bigamy,  attempts  to  procure 

miscarriage,  and  common  assaults. 

2.  Offences  against  property,     (a)  With  violence — as  burglary,  robbery,  piracy,  and 

sending  menacing  letters,      (b)  Without  violence— including    cattle-stealing, 
larceny  by  servants,  embezzling,  and  cheating,     (c)  Malicious  offences  against 
property — as  arson,  incendiarism,  maiming  cattle,  &c. 
8.  Forgenfy  and  offences  against  the  ewrrency — ^under  which  head  are  comprised  tiie 

forging  of  wills,  bank  notes,  and  coining. 
4.   Other  offences — ^including  high  treason,  poaching,  working  illicit  stills,  perjury, 
brothel-keeping,  &c. 
M.  Guerry,  the  eminent  French  statist,  adopts  a  far  more  philosophic  arrangement,  and 
divides  the  several  crimes  into — 

1.  Grimes  against  the  State — as  high  treason,  &c. 

2.  Crimes  against  personal  safety — as  murder,  assault,  &c. 

3.  Crimes  against  morals  (with  or  without  violence) — as  rape,  bigamy,  &c. 

4.  Qrimes  against  property  (proceeding  from  cupidity,  or  malice) — as  larceny,  embezzle- 
ment, incenduurism,  and  the  like.  • 


88  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  same  fdndamental  error,  however,  which  renders  the  legal  and  official  classification 
comparatiyely  worthless,  deprives  that  of  the  French  philosopher  of  all  practical  value.  It 
gives  us  no  knowledge  of  the  people  conunitting  the  crimes,  since  the  offences  are  classified 
according  to  the  objects  against  which  they  are  committed,  rather  than  the  causes  and 
passions  giving  rise  to  them ;  and  such  an  arrangement  consequently  sinks  into  a  mere  system 
of  criminal  mnemonics,  or  easy  method  of  remembering  the  several  crimes.  The  classes  in 
both  systems  are  but  so  many  mental  pigeon-holes  for  the  arbitrary  separation  of  the  various 
infractions  of  the  law,  and  farther  than  this  they  cannot  serve  us. 

Whatever  other  information  the  inquirer  may  desire,  he  must  obtain  for  himself.  If  he 
wish  to  learn  something  as  to  the  causes  of  the  crimes,  and  consequently  as  to  the  character 
and  passions  of  the  criminals  themselves,  he  must  begin  d$  novo  ;  and  using  the  official  facts, 
but  rejecting  the  official  system  of  classification,  proceed  to  arrange  all  the  several  offences 
into  two  classes,  according  as  they  are  of  a  professional  or  casual  character,  committed  by 
habitual  or  occasional  offenders. 

Adopting  this  principle,  it  will  be  found  that  the  crimes  committed  by  the  casual 
offenders  consist  mainly  of  murder,  assaults,  incendiarism,  ravishment,  bigamy,  em- 
bezzlement, high  treason,  and  the  like;  for  it  is  evident  that  none  can  make  a  trade 
or  profeusion  of  the  commission  of  these  crimes,  or  resort  to  them  as  a  regular  means  of 
subsistence. 

The  habitual  crimes,  on  the  other  hand,  will  be  generally  found  to  include  bui^lary, 
robbery,  poaching,  coining,  smuggling,  working  of  illicit  stills,  larceny  from  the  person, 
simple  larceny,  &c.,  because  each  and  all  of  these  are  regular  crafts,  requiring  almost  the 
same  apprenticeships  as  any  other  mode  of  life— house-breaking,  and  picking  pockets,  and 
working  illicit  stills,  being  crafts  to  which  no  man  without  some  previous  training  can  adapt 
himself. 

Hence,  to  ascertain  whether  the  number  of  these  dishonest  handicrafts — ^for  such  they 
really  are — ^be  annually  on  the  increase  or  not,  is  to  solve  the  most  important  portion  of  the 
criminal  problem.  It  is  to  learn  whether  crime  pursued  as  a  special  profession  or  business 
is  being  augmented  among  us — ^to  discover  whether  the  criminal  class,  as  a  distinct  body  of 
people,  is  or  is  not  on  the  advance. 

The  casual  or  accidental  crimes,  on  the  other  hand,  will  furnish  us  with  equally  curious 
results,  showing  a  yearly  impress  of  the  character  of  the  times ;  for  these,  being  only  occasional 
offences,  the  number  of  such  offenders  in  different  years  will  of  course  give  us  a  knowledge 
of  the  intensity  of  the  several  occasions  inducing  the  crimes  of  such  years. 

The  accidental  crimes,  classified  according  to  their  causes,  may  be  said  to  consiBt  of 

1.  Crimes  of  BnttaUty  and  Malice^  exercised  either  against  the  person  or  property  of 

the  object — as  murder,  intents  to  maim  or  do  bodily  harm,  manslaughter, 
assaults,  kiUing  and  maiming  cattle,  ill-treating  animals,  malicious  destruction 
of  property,  setting  fire  to  crops,  arson,  &c. 

2.  Crimes  of  Lusty  Perverted  Appetites,  and  Indecency — as  rape,  carnally  abusing  girls, 

unnatural  crimes,  indecently  exposing  the  person,  bigamy,  abduction,  &c. 

3.  Crimes  of  Shame — as  concealing  the  birth  of  infants,  attempts  to  procure  mis- 

carriage, &c. 

4.  Crimes  of  Temptation,  or  Cttpidity,  with  or  without  broach  of  trust — as  embezzle- 

ment, larceny  by  servants,  illegal  pawning,  forgery,  &o. 

5.  Crimes  of  Evil  Speaking — as  perjury,  slander,  libel,  sending  menacing  letters,  &c. 

6.  Crimes  of  Political  Prejudicu — as  high  treason,  sedition,  &c. 

Those  who  resort  to  crime  as  a  means  of  subsistence  when  in  extreme  want,  cannot  be 
said  to  belong  to  those  who  prefer  idleness  to  labouring  for  their  living,  since  many  such 
would  willingly  work  to  increase  their  sustenance,  if  that  end  were  attainable  by  these  means ; 
but  the  poor  shirt-makey,  slop-tailors,  and  the  like,  have  not  the  power  of  earning  more 


THE  CRIMINAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON.  89 

f^ian.  the  barest  sabsistence  by  their  labour,  so  that  the  pawning  of  the  work  intrusted  to 
them  by  their  employers  becomes  an  act  to  which  they  are  immediately  impelled  for  "  dear 
life,"  on  the  occurrence  of  the  least  iUness  or  mishap  among  them.  Sudi  offenders,  therefore, 
belong  more  properly  to  those  who  cannot  work  for  their  lining,  or  rather,  cannot  live  by 
their  working ;  and  though  they  offend  against  the  laws  in  the  same  maimer  as  those  who 
object  to  work,  they  certainly  cannot  be  said  to  belong  to  the  same  class. 

The  AoM^im/ criminals,  on  the  other  hand,  are  a  distinct  body  of  people.  Such  classes  ap- 
pertain to  even  the  rudest  nations,  they  being,  as  it  were,  the  human  parasites  of  every  ciTilized 
and  barbarous  community.  The  Hottentots  have  their  "  Sonqms"  and  the  Kaffirs  their 
**Fmgoes,^*  as  we  have  our  "  prigs"  and  '' cadgers."  Those  who  object  to  labour  for  the 
food  they  consume  appear  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  every  State — an  essential  element  of  the 
social  £a,bric.  Gh)  where  you  will — ^to  whar  comer  of  the  ear&  you  please — search  out  or 
propound  what  new-fangled  or  obsolete  form  of  society  you  may — ^you  will  be  sure  to  find  some 
members  of  it  more  apathetic  than  the  rest,  who  will  object  to  work ;  even  as  there  will  be 
some  more  infirm  than  others,  who  are  unable,  though  willing,  to  earn  their  own  living ;  and 
some,  again,  more  thrifty,  who,  from  their  prudence  and  their  savings,  will  have  no  need  to 
labour  for  their  subsistence. 

These  several  forms  are  but  the  necessary  consequences  of  specific  differences  in  the 
constitution  of  different  beings.  Circumstances  may  tend  to  give  an  unnatural  development 
to  either  one  or  the  other  of  the  classes.  The  criminal  class,  the  pauper  class,  or  the  wealthy 
class  may  be  in  excess  in  one  form  of  society  as  compared  with  another,  or  they  may  be 
repressed  by  certain  social  arrangements — nevertheless,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  there  they 
wiUy  and,  we  believe,  mmt  ever  be. 

Since,  then,  there  is  an  essentialLy  distinct  class  of  persons  who  have  an  innate  aversion  to 
any  settled  industry,  and  since  work  is  a  necessary  condition  of  the  human  organization,  the 
qnestion  becomes,  ''  How  do  such  people  live  ?"  There  is  but  one  answer — ^If  they  will  not 
labooT  to  procure  their  own  food,  of  coprse  they  must  live  on  the  food  procured  by  the  labour 
of  others. 

The  means  by  which  the  criminal  classes  obtain  their  living  constitute  the  essential  points 
of  difference  among  them,  and  form,  indeed,  the  methods  of  distinction  among  themselves. 
The  ^'Rampsmen,"  the  " Drunmiers,"  the  ''Mobsmen,"  the  *' Sneaksmen,"  and  the  *'Sho- 
fiilmen,"  which  are  the  terms  by  which  the  thieves  themselves  designate  the  several  branches 
of  the  **  profession,"  are  but  so  many  expressions  indicating  the  several  modes  of  obtaining 
the  property  of  which  they  become  possessed. 

The  **  Bamptmany*  or  "  Craehmnan,*^  plunders  by  force — as  the  burglar,  footpad,  &c. 

The  "2^»w»^'  plunders  by  stupe&ction — as  the  '*  hocusser." 

The  "JH^^ffmm"  plunders  by  manual  dexterity — as  the  pickpocket. 

The  "  SneaJtsnum*'  plunders  by  stealth — as  the  petty-larceny  boy.    And 

The  *'  Shqfuknan*^  plunders  by  counterfeits — as  the  coiner. 

Now,  each  and  all  of  these  are  a  distinct  species  of  the  criminal  genus,  having  little  or  no 
connection  with  the  others.  The  "  cracksman,"  or  housebreaker,  would  no  more  think  of 
associating  with  the  *'  sneaksman,"  than  a  banister  would  dream  of  sitting  down  to  dinner 
with  an  attorney.  The  perils  braved  by  the  housebreaker  or  the  footpad,  make  the  cowardice 
of  the  sneaksman  contemptible  to  him ;  and  the  one  is  distinguished  by  a  kind  of  bull-dog 
insensibflity  to  danger,  while  the  other  is  marked  by  a  low,  cat-like  cunning. 

The  **  Mobsman,"  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  of  a  handicraftsman  than  either,  and  is 
comparatively  refined,  by  the  society  he  is  obliged  to  keep.  He  usually  dresses  in  the  same 
elaborate  style  of  fiuhion  as  a  Jew  on  a  Saturday  (in  which  case  he  is  more  particularly  described 
by  the  prefix  ''sweU"),  and  "mixes"  generally  in  the  "best  of  company,"  frequenting, 
for  the  purposes  of  business,  all  the  places  of  public  entertainment,  and  often  being  a  regular 
attendant  at  churoh,  and  the  more  elegant  chapels— especially  during  charity  sermons.    The 


90  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

mobsman  takes  his  name  &om  the  gregarions  habits  of  the  class  to  which  he  belongs,  it  being 
necessary  for  the  successful  picking  of  pockets  that  the  work  be  done  in  small  gangs  or  mobs, 
80  as  to  "  cover"  the  operator. 

Among  the  sneaksmen,  again,  the  purloiners  of  animals  (such  as  the  horse-stealere,  the 
sheep-stealers,  &c.)  aU— with  the  exception  of  the  dog-stealers — ^belong  to  a  particular  tribe  f 
these  are  agiicultural  thieves ;  whereas  the  mobsmen  are  generally  of  a  more  civic  character. 

The  shoftdmen,  or  coiners,  moreover,  constitute  another  species ;  and  upon  them,  like 
the  others,  is  impressed  the  stamp  of  the  peculiar  line  of  roguery  they  may  chance  to  follow 
as  a  means  of  subsistence. 

Such  are  the  more  salient  features  of  that  portion  of  the  habitually  dishonest  classes,  who 
live  by  taking  what  they  want  from  others.  The  other  moiety  of  the  same  class,  who  live 
by  getting  what  they  want  given  to  them,  is  equally  peculiar.  These  consist  of  the  "  Flat- 
catchers,"  the  "Hunters,"  and  "  Charley*  Pitchers,"  the  ''Bouncers,"  and  ''Besters,"  the 
"  Cadgers,"  and  the  "Vagrants." 

The  ^*  Flat-catchers^*  obtain  their  means  by  false  pretences — ^as  swindlers,  duffers,  ring- 
droppers,  and  cheats  of  all  kinds. 

The  **  Sunters"  and  "  Charley  Fitcheri*  live  by  low  gaming — as  thimblerig-men. 

The  ^^Bwmceri*  and  "Beeters**  by  betting,  intimidating,  or  talking  people  out  of  their 
property. 

The  "  Cadgersj*  by  begging  and  exciting  false  sympathy. 

The  '*  VagrawU^''  by  declaring  on  the  casual  ward  of  the  parish  workhouse. 

Each  of  these,  again,  are  unmistakably  distinguished  from  the  rest.  The  "  Flat'Catchers" 
are  generally  remarkable  for  great  shrewdness,  especially  in  the  knowledge  of  human  charac- 
ter, and  ingenuity  in  deogning  and  carrying  out  their  several  schemes.  The  "  Charley 
Pitchers"  appertain  more  to  the  conjuring  or  sleight-of-hand  and  black-leg  class.  The 
"  Cadgers,"  on  the  other  hand,  are  to  the  class  of  cheats  what  the  "  Sneaksman"  is  to  the 
thieves — ^the  lowest  of  all — ^being  the  least  distinguished  for  those  characteristics  which  mark 
the  other  members  of  the  same  body.  As  the  "  Sneaksman"  is  the  least  daring  and  expert 
of  all  the  "prigs,"  so  is  the  "  Cadger''  the  least  intellectual  and  cunning  of  all  the  cheats.  A 
"  Shallow  cove" — ^that  is  to  say,  one  who  exhibits  himself  half-naked  in  the  streets,  as  a 
means  of  obtaining  his  living — ^is  looked  upon  as  the  most  despicable  of  all  creatures, 
since  the  act  requires  neither  courage,  intellect,  nor  dexterity  for  the  execution  of  it. 
Lastly,  the  "  Vagrants"  are  the  wanderers — ^the  English  Bedouins — ^those  who,  in  their  own 
words,  "love  to  shake  a  fr«e  leg" — ^the  thoughtless  and  the  careless  vagabonds  of  our  race. 

Such,  then,  are  the  characters  of  the  habitual  criminals,  or  professionally  dishonest 
classes — ^the  vagrants,  beggars,  cheats,  and  thieves — each  order  expressing  some  different 
mode  of  existence  adopted  by  those  who  hate  working  for  their  living.  The  vagrants,  who 
love  a  roving  life,  exist  principally  by  declaring  on  the  parish  frmds  for  the  time  being;  the 
be^ars,  as  deficient  in  courage  and  intellect  as  in  pride,  prefer  to  live  by  soliciting  alms 
from  the  public ;  the  cheats,  possessed  of  considerable  cunning  and  ingenuity,  choose  rather 
to  subsist  by  fraud  and  deception ;  the  thieves,  distinguished  generally  by  a  hardihood  and 
comparative  disregard  of  danger,  find  greater  delight  in  risking  their  liberty  and  taking 
what  they  want,  instead  of  waiting  to  have  it  given  to  them. 

In  prisons,  the  criminals  are  usually  divided  into  first,  second,  and  third  class  prisoners, 
according  ^  the  amount  of  education  they  have  received.  Among  the  first,  or  well-educated 
class,  are  generally  to  be  found  the  casual  criminals,  as  forgers,  embezzlers,  &c.;  the  second,  or 
imperfectly  educated  class,  contains  a  large  proportion  of  the  town  criminals — ^as  pickpockets, 
smashers,  thimblerig-men,  &c. ;  whilst  the  third,  or  comparatively  uneducated  class,  is  mostly 

*  A  *'  Charley  Pitcher"  seema  to  be  one  who  pitches  to  the  Ceorla  (A.  S.  for  countryman),  and  hence  is 
oqiuyalent  to  the  term  Tokd-hunUir. 


THS  CRIMINAL  PRISONS  OF  LONDON. 


91 


made  np  of  tiho  lower  kind  of  city  thieves,  as  well  as  the  agricultnral  labourers  who  have  turned 
sheep-stealers,  and  the  like.  Of  these  three  classes,  the  first  and  the  last  furnish  the  greater 
number  of  cases  of  reformation,  whilst  the  middle  class  is  exceedingly  difficult  of  real 
improyementy  though  the  most  ready  of  all  io  feign  conyersion. 

As  regards  the  criminal  period  of  life,  we  shall  find,  upon  calculating  the  ratio  between 
the  criminals  of  different  ages,  that  by  far  the  largest  proportion  of  such  people  is  to  be  found 
between  the  ages  of  15  and  25.  This  period  of  life  is  known  to  physiologists  to  be  that  at 
which  the  character  or  ruling  principle  is  deyeloped.  Up  to  fifteen,  the  will  or  yoHtion  of  an 
individual  is  almost  in  abeyance,  and  the  youth  consequently  remains,  in  the  greater  number  of 
cases,  under  the  control  of  his  parents,  acting  according  to  their  directions.  After  fifteen,  how- 
ever, the  parental  dominion  begins  to  be  shaken  ofi^,  and  the  being  to  act  for  himself,  having 
acquired,  as  the  phrase  runs,  ''  a  wiU  of  his  own."  This  is  the  most  dangerous  time  of 
life  to  all  characters ;  whilst  to  those  who  fall  among  bad  companions,  or  whose  natures 
are  marked  by  vicious  impulses,  it  is  a  term  of  great  trouble  and  degradation.  The 
ratio  between  the  population  of  1 5  and  25  years  of  age  and  that  of  all  ages,  throughout  Eng- 
land and  Wales,  is  but  19-0  per  cent. ;  whereas  the  ratio  between  prisoners  from  15  to  25  years 
old  and  those  of  all  ages  is,  for  England  and  Wales,  as  high  as  48*7 ;  and  for  the  Metropolis, 
49'6  per  cent.;  so  that  whilst  the  young  men  and  women  form  hardly  one-fifth  of  dU  olassesy 
they  constitute  very  nearly  one-htdf  of  the  eriminal  dass.  The  boys  in  prison  are  found  to 
be  the  most  difficult  to  deal  with,  for  among  these  occur  the  greater  number  of  refractory 


§  1— a. 

THE  LONDON  CONVICT  PRISONS  AND  THE  CONVICT  POPULATION. 

The  Convict  Prisons  of  the  Metropolis,  as  we  have  ehown,  consist  of  four  distinct  establish- 
ments—distinct, not  only  in  their  localities,  but  also  in  the  character  of  their  construction, 
as  well  as  in  the  discipline  to  which  the  inmates  are  submitted.  At  PentonviUe  Prison, 
for  instance,  the  convicts  are  treated  under  a  modified  form  of  the  "  separate  system" — at 
MiUbank  the  ''mixed  system''  is  in  force ;  and,  at  the  Hulks,  on  the  other  hand,  the  prisoners, 
though  arranged  in  wards,  have  but  little  restraint  imposed  upon  their  intercommunication ; 

*  The  folluwing  tables,  copied  from  the  Census  of  1851,  fumiBh  the  data  for  the  above  statements :~ 

AGES  OP  FBISOITEBS  IK  EKGLAin)  Ain>  WALES. 


From    5  to  10 

jrears 

old      20 

From  40  to  46 

yoars 

old 

1,278 

From  76  to  80  yean 

old      23 

„     10  „  15 

w 

876 

„    46  „  60 

»> 

826 

„    80  „  86        „ 

13 

„     16  „  20 

99 

6,081 

„    60  „  65 

II 

684 

„    85  „  90        „ 

3 

n    20  „  25 

n 

6,496 

„    65  „  60 

>» 

333 

„    90  „  06        „ 

1 

26    .  30 

3,693 
2,402 

60  ..  66 

267 

»    30  „  36 

99 

„    65  „  70 

9 

II 

132 

Total  of  ages 

23,768 

»    85  „  40 

99 

1,668 

„    70  „  76 

>» 

73 

Per  oentage  of  pnaonen  between  16  and  26  to  those  of  all  ages,  48*7 

Total  population  of  all  ages  in  England  and  Wales 

Ditto  between  15  and  25  years  in  ditto    .        .       •       .       .       . 


17,927,609 
3,423,769 


Per  otntago  of  persons  between  16  and  26  years  to  persons  of  all  ages,  19*0 


AGES  0^  PBISONEBS  US  LONDON  FBISOKS. 


From    6  to  10  years  old 


f* 

99 
II 
II 


10  „  15 
16  „  20 
20  „  15 
26  „  30 
30  „  36 


II 

99 
II 
II 


1 

299 

1,413 

1,659 

863 

696 


From  35  to  40  years  old 


II 
1} 
II 
II 
II 


40  „  45 
45  „  60 
60  „  65 
66  „  60 
60  „  66 


II 
II 
II 
II 
II 


362 
825 
223 
191 
81 
39 


From  66  to  70  years  old 
70  „  76 
75  „  80 
80  ,.  85 


II 


II 
II 


i» 


II 
II 
II 


26 

4 
1 
1 


Total  of  all  ages     6,188 


Percentage  of  London  prisoners  between  15  and  25  to  those  of  all  ages,  49*6. 


92  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONIX)N. 

whilst  at  Brixton,  which  is  an  establishment  for  fbmale  conyicts  only,  a  different  course  of 
treatment,  again,  is  adopted. 

The  convict  prisons,  with  the  exception  of  the  Hulks,  were  formerly  merely  the  receiving- 
houses  for  those  who  had  been  sentenced  by  law  to  be  banished,  or  rather  transported, 
from  the  kingdom. 

The  system  of  transportation  is  generally  dated  as  far  back  as  the  statute  for  the  banish- 
ment of  dangerous  rogues  and  vagabonds,  which  was  passed  in  the  39th  year  of  Elizabeth's 
reign ;  and  James  I.  was  the  first  to  have  felons  transported  to  America,  for  in  a  letter  he 
conmianded  the  authorities  ''  to  send  a  hundred  dissolute  persons  to  Yirginia,  that  the  Knight- 
Marshal  was  to  deliver  for  that  purpose.'' 

Transportation,  however,  is  not  spoken  of  in  any  Act  of  Parliament  until  the  18th  Charles 
n.,  c.  3,  which  empowers  the  judges  either  to  sentence  the  moss-troopers  of  Cumberland  and 
Northumberland  to  be  executed  or  transported  to  America  for  Hfe.  ^Nevertheless,  this  mode 
of  punishment  was  not  commonly  resorted  to  prior  to  the  year  1718  (4th  Gborge  I.,  c.  2) ; 
for,  by  an  Act  passed  in  that  year,  a  discretionary  power  was  given  to  judges  to  order  felonsy 
who  were  entitled  to  the  benefit  of  clergy,  to  be  transported  to  the  American  plantations ;  and, 
under  this  and  other  Acts,  transportation  to  America  continued  from  the  year  1718  till  the 
oommenoement  of  the  War  of  Independence,  1775.  During  that  period,  England  was 
repeatedly  reproached  by  foreign  nations  for  banishing,  as  felons,  persons  whose  ofiences 
were  comparatively  venial — one  John  Eyre,  Esq.,  a  gentleman  of  fortune,  having,  among 
others,  been  sentenced  to  transportation  for  stealing  a  few  quires  of  paper  (November  1st, 
1771) ;  and,  even  as  recently  as  the  year  1818,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Halloran  having  been  trans- 
ported for  forging  a  frank  to  cover  a  tenpenny  postage. 

After  the  outbreak  of  the  American  War,  a  plan  for  the  establishment  of  penitentiaries 
was  taken  into  consideration  by  Parliament,  but  not  carried  out  with  any  vigour ;  for  in  the 
year  1 784,  transportation  was  resumed,  and  an  Act  passed,  empowering  the  King  in  council 
to  transport  offenders  to  any  place  beyond  the  seas,  either  within  or  without  the  British 
dominions,  as  his  Majesty  might  appoint ;  and  two  years  afterwards  an  order  in  council  was 
published,  fixing  upon  the  eastern  coast  of  Australia,  and  the  adjacent  islands,  as  the  friture 
penal  colonies.  In  the  month  of  May,  1787,  the  first  band  of  transports  left  this  country  for 
Botany  Bay,  and  in  the  succeeding  year,  founded  the  colony  of  New  South  Wales. 

This  system  of  transporting  felons  to  Australia  continued  in  such  force  that,  in  fifty  years 
from  the  date  of  its  introduction  (1787 — 1836),  100,000  convicts  (including  13,000  women) 
had  been  shipped  off  fr^m  this  country  to  the  Australian  penal  colonies.  This  is  at  the  rate 
of  2,000  per  annum ;  and  according  to  the  returns  published  up  to  the  time  that  the  practice 
was  modified  by  Parliament,  such  would  appear  to  have  been  the  average  number  of  felons 
annually  sent  out  of  the  country :  thus — 

In  1851.  1852. 
The  number  of  prisoners  remaining  in  the  Convict  Prisons  throughout 

the  Kingdom  at  the  beginning  of  the  year  was     .                  .         .6,130  6,572 

The  number  received  during  the  year 2,903  2,953 

The  total  convict  population  during  the  year  .         .        .     9,033        9,525 
The  number  embarked  for  penal  settlements,  and  otherwise  disposed    . 

of 2,548         2,658* 

The  number  remaining  in  convict  prisons  at  the  end  of  the  year    .  6,485        6,867 

*  The  nomben  embarked  in  these  yean  for  the  penal  colonies  were  2,224  in  1851,  and  2,345  in  1862. 
There  vera,  moreoTer,  87  oonricta  in  1851,  and  43  in  1852  remoyed  to  other  inatitutiona ;  and  147  pardoned 
in  the  first  year,  and  125  in  the  aeoood.  Beaidea  theae,  9  eacaped,  and  111  died  in  the  one  year,  and  14  and 
187  in  the  other  year. 


1:1 


THE  CONYICT  PRISONS  OF  LOKDOl^.  95 

In  the  month  of  Angxut,  1853^  an  Act  (16  and  17  Yict.,  c.  99)  was  passed,  "  to  snbsti- 
tate,  in  certain  oases,  other  punishment  in  lieu  of  transportation ;"  and  by  this  it  was  ordained, 
that  "  whereas,  by  reason  of  the  dificnlty  of  transporting  offenders  beyond  the  seas,  it  has 
become  expedient  to  substitate  some  other  ptiniahment ;"  therefore,  ''no  person  shall  be  sen- 
tenced to  transportation  for  any  term  less  than  fourteen  years,  and*  only  those  conyeyed  be- 
yond the  seas  who  have  been  sentenced  to  transportation  for  life,  or  for  fourteen  years  and 
upwards;"  so  that  transportation  for  the  term  of  seven  or  ten  years  was  then  and  there 
abolished,  a  term  of  four  years'  penal  servitude  being  substituted  in  lieu  of  the  former, 
and  six  years'  penal  servitude  instead  of  the  latter. 

This  Act  was  passed,  we  repeat,  in  August  1853,  and  accordingly  we  find  a  great 
difference  in  the  number  of  convicts  embarked  in  that  and  the  following  years,  die  Qovem- 
ment  returns  beiDg  as  follows : — 

In  1853.  1854.  1855. 
The  number  of  convicts  remaining  in  the  convict  prisons  through- 
out the  kingdom,  at  the  beginning  of  the  year,  was    .                 6,873  7,718  7,744 
The  number  received  during  the  year        ....     2,854  2,378  2,799 

The  total  convict  population  .  .  .     9,227     10,096     10^543 

Disposed  of  during  the  year — 

Embarked  for  Western  Australia,        In  1853. 

and  Gibraltar 
Bemoved  to  other  institutions 
Pardoned 
Escaped 

Expiration  of  sentence 
Died  . 

Total  disposed  of 


1853. 

1854. 

1855. 

700 

280 

1,312 

45 

29 

66 

560 

1,826 

2,491 

4 

8 

17 

0 

6 

6 

158 

173 

114 

1,467 

2,322       4,006 


The  number  remaining  in  the  convict  prisons  at  the  end  of  the  year     7, 760      7,774      6,537 

Hence  we  perceive  that,  though  the  Act  for  abolishing  the  shorter  terms  of  transportation 
was  passed  only  at  the  end  of  the  summer  of  1853,  the  number  of  transports  embarked  in 
the  course  of  the  year,  had  decreased  from  2,224  in  1851,  and  2,345  in  1852,  to  700  in  1853, 
280  in  1854,  and  1,312  in  1855;  whilst  the  number  of  pardons,  which  was  only  147  in 
1851,  and  125  in  1852,  had  risen  as  high  as  560  in  1853,  and  1,826  in  1854,  and  2,491  in 
1855 — ^no  less  than  276  convicts  having  been  liberated  in  the  course  of  1853,  and  1,801  in 
1854,  and  2,459  in  1855,  under  '<  an  order  of  license,"  or  ticket-of-leave,  as  it  is  sometimes 
called,  an  item  which,  till  lately,  had  not  made  its  appearance  in  the  home  convict  returns. 

Now,  it  forms  no  part  of  our  present  object  to  weigh  the  advantages  and  disadvantages 
of  the  altered  mode  of  dealing  with  our  convicts.  We  have  only  to  set  forth  the  history 
and  statistics  of  the  matter,  for  we  purpose,  in  this  section,  merely  estimating  the  convict 
population  of  the  Metropolis,  and  comparing  it  with  that  of  the  country  in  general. 

Well,  by  the  preceding  returns  we  have  shown  that  the  convict  population  of  Great 
Britain  averages  rather  more  than  9,000  individuals,  whilst  the  convict  population  of 
the  ICetropolis  may  be  stated  at  upwards  of  3,000,  so  that  London  would  appear  to  contain 
about  one-third  of  the  whole,  or  as  many  convicts  as  there  are  people  in  the  town  of 
Epsom. 

We  have  shown,  moreover,  that  this  same  convict  population  is  annually  increased  by 
an  influx  of  between  2,000  and  3,000  fresh  prisoners,  so  that  in  a  few  years  the  band  of 
oozLvicted  felons  would  amount  to  a  considerable  army  among  us  if  retained  at  home.  'Nor 
V 


96 


THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LOOT)ON. 


do  we  say  this  with  any  view  to  alarm  society  as  to  the  dangers  of  abolishing  transpor- 
tation, for,  in  our  opinion,  it  is  unworthy  of  a  great  and  wise  nation  to  make  a  moral  dnst-bin 
of  its  colonies,  and,  by  thrusting  the  revise  of  its  population  from  under  its  nose,  to  believe 
that  it  is  best  consulting  the  social  health  of  its  people  at  home.  Our  present  purpose  is 
simply  to  draw  attentioit  to  the  fact  that—despite  our  array  of  schools,  and  prison-chaplains, 
and  refined  systems  of  penal  discipline,  and  large  army  of  police,  besides  the  vast  increase  of 
churches  and  chapels — our  felon  population  increases  among  us  as  fast  as  fungi  in  a  rank 
and  foBtid  atmosphere. 

KoW'the  gross  cost  of  maintaining  our  immense  body  of  couTicted  felons  is  not  yery  far 
short  of  a  quarter  of  a  million  of  money,  the  returns  of  1854-5  showing  that  the  maintexiance 
and  guardianship  of  8,359  convicts  cost,  within  a  fraction,  £219,000,  which  is  at  the  rate  of 
about  £26  per  head. 

The  cost  of  the  four  London  establishments  would  appear  to  be  altogether  £86,600 
a-year,  which  is,  upon  an  average,  £24  13«.  2d.  for  the  food  and  care  of  each  man.* 


*  The  following  table  is  abridged  from  the  retoma  of  the  Stmreyor-General  of  Pnaona  :— 

OOKPABiLTTVB  ABSTaAOT  OV  THB  B8TIMATBB  FOR  THB  KAIMTBNANCB  OF  THB  OONTIOT  PRISONS  FOR  THB 
TBAB  1864-6,  SHOWING  THB  AMOUNT  UNDBB  BAOH  HBAD  OF  8BRVI0B,  THB  NT7KBBB  OF  PBIS0NBU8, 
AND  THB  COST  PBB  HEAD. 


HbAXM  OV  SSETXOB. 


SaUtries  of  Principal 
Officers  and  Clerks, 
and  Wages  of  Infe- 
rior Officers  andSer- 
TantB,  and  of  Mann- 
footnring  or  Labour 
Department   ... 

Cost  of  Rations  and 

Uniforms  for  Offl. 

oers  and  Serranta    • 

Vlotoalling  Prisoners 

Clothing  Prisoners 

Bedding  Prisoners    . 

Clothing  andTraTd- 
Ung  Expenses  of  Pri- 
soners on  Liberation 

Fnd  and  Light  flor 
General  Pnipoees  . 

Other  Expenses    .    . 

Gross  Total .    .    ,    . 


PBHTOKTILLn. 

561  Prisoners. 


G~"Cost|^,SJJ 


£    «.    d. 


5,971  6  6 

7S0  0  0 

5,105  2  0 

1,262  5  0 

147  5  S 

50  0  0 

700  0  0 

947  0  0 


14,912  18    9 


MiLLBAKX. 

1,800  Prisoners. 


I 


Gross  Cost. 


£  ».  dA     £    *.     d. 


10  12  ID 

1  6  0 
9  2  0 

2  5  0 
0  5  8 

0  19 

1  4  10 
1  18    1 


26  11    8 


18,871  0  6 

2,244  0  0 

9,750  0  0 

2,600  0  0 

826  0  0 

80  0  0 

8,000  0  0 

1,855  0  0 


38,175    0    6  25  10    4 


Oost  per 
prisoner 


£  «.  d. 


10    5  8 

1  14  6 
7  10  0 

2  0  0 
0    6  0 

0    0  6 

2    6  2 

18  6 


Beiztoh. 
700  Prisoners. 


Gross  Cost 


£    «.    d. 


8,878  10  0 

580    0  0 

4,900    0  0 

1,225    0  0 

175    0  0 

250    0  0 

800    0  0 

964  10  0 


Cost  per 
prisoner 


£  $,  d. 


4  16    2 

0  15  2 
7    0  0 

1  15  0 
0    5  0 

0  7    1 

1  2  10 
1    7  10 


12,218    0    0,17    9    1 


Woolwich  Hulks. 
951  Prisoners. 


Gross  Ooet 


£     «.    d. 


Oost  per 
prisoner 


£  s.  d. 


SnOCAKT  OF  GoyxBM. 

MKMT  PbIBOXS. 

8,809  Prisonen. 


Gross  Cost. 


£ 


8,214    6    7 

1,782  11  10 

9,034  10    0 

2,868    0    0 

475  10    0 

1,066    2  10 

676    4    6 
2,196    5    2 


28,297    9  10 


8  12  9 

1  17  5 

9  10  0 
8    0  0 

0  10  0 

1  2  5 

0  14  2 

2  6  8 


72,014  8  6 

18,920  0  0 

74,816  2  0 

24,841  6  0 

2,778  6  3 

6,880  0  0 

10,450  0  0 

18,767  0  0 


27  18    Ol218,961  15    9 


Cost  per 
prisonei 


£    «.  tf. 


8.13    4 

1  IS 
8  19 

2  19 

0    6 

0  16    S 

16    0 

1  IS  II 


26    8  10 


The  following  is  an  estimate  of  the  oost  of  tnnsportang  and  taking  care  of  100,000  convicts  in  the  penal 
cobnies,  from  the  year  1786  to  March  1837— about  fifty  years  :— 

Cost  of  Transport £2,729,790 

Diflborsement  for  Oeneral  ConTiot  and  Colonial  Sendees        .        4,001,681 

Military  Expenditure 1,632,302 

Ordnance      .        .        .       .   ' 29,846 


Total 

Deduct  for  Fremiam  on  Bills 


£8,483,619 
607,196 


£7,976,324 
The  ayerage  oost  of  transport  for  each  conviot  was  £28  per  head,  and  the  yaiious  expenses  of  naideiioo  and 


OP  PRISON  DISCIPLINE.  97 

^55MlM?*— §  1— a. 

OF  PRISON  DISCIPLINE. 

We  haTB  add  {hat  at  each  of  the  different  priaons  of  the  Metropolia  a  different  mode  of  treatment,  or 
diaeipline,  is  adopted  towarda  the  priaonera.  Henoe  it  hecomee  expedient,  in  order  that  the  general  reader 
nay  be  in  a  poeition  to  Judge  aa  to  the  oharaoter  of  the  London  priaona,  that  we  ahould  giro  a  brief  account 
of  the  86Teral  kxnda  of  priaon  diaeipline  at  present  in  foroe. 

*«*  QmdUioH  of  the  Priaona  «•  the  Oldan  Tima, — The  hiatory  of  priion  improyements  in  this  country 
begina  with  the  laboura  of  Howard.  In  the  year  1775  he  published  hia  work  entitled,  '*  The  State  of  the 
Prisona  in  Sngland  and  Walea; "  and  in  the  first  section  of  this  he  gave  a  summary  of  the  abuses  which  then 
•ziatad  in  the  management  of  criminals.  These  abuaea  were  principally  of  a  physical  and  moral  kind. 
Under  the  one  head  were  compriaed — bad  food,  bad  yentilation,  and  bad  drainage ;  and  under  the  other- 
want  of  dasaification,  or  separation  among  the  inmates,  so  that  each  prison  waa  not  only  a  scene  of  riot  and 
lawleaa  revelry,  and  filth  and  ferer,  but  it  waa  also  a  college  for  young  criminals,  where  the  juyenile  offender 
ooold  be  duly  educated  in  yice  by  the  more  experienced  professors  of  iniquity.* 

Pormerly,  we  are  told,  the  prisons  were  fiEunned  out  to  indiyiduals,  willing  to  take  charge  of  the  inmates 


pimiahment  £54;  or,  altogether,  £82  per  head.    The  ayerage  annual  expense  entailed  upon  this  country  by 
the  penal  colonies,  since  the  commencement  of  transportation  to  1837,  amounted  to  £160,000. 

Since  Uie  latter  period,  howeyer,  the  cost  of  transportation  and  maintenance  of  oonyicts  abroad  has 
oonaiderably  increased,  the  Goyemment  estimate  for  the  Gonyict  Service  for  1852-8  haying  been  aa  follows : — 

Transport  to  Australian  Coloniea £95,000 

Tranaport  to  Bermuda  and  Gibraltar 6,041 

Gonyict  Service  at  Australian  Coloniea  .  188,744 

Convict  Service  at  Bermuda  and  Gibraltar  ....        48,842 

£338,627 
In  1858  there  were  6,212  convicts  in  Australia,  and  2,650  in  Bermuda  and  Gibraltar. 
The  groas  annual  expense  for  tiie  convict  service  in  1852-3,  inclusive  of  the  convict  prisons  at  home, 
waa  estimated  by  the  Surveyor-General  at  £587,294;  whereaa  the  estimatea  for  the  modification  of  the 
system,  in  substituting  imprisonment  at  home  for  a  proportion  of  the  sentences  of  transportation  abroad,  are 
£837,336. 

BSTUIUr    aSEWIKO    THI  NITIIBEK    07     OOKVICTB    WHO    ABSIVED    AT    VAN    DDSMEH'S    LAIH)  IK  BACH   TBAB 
FOB  20  TBASa,  FROM  THB   l8T  OF  JANUABT,    1831   TO  3l6T  OF  HMCEHBKRy   1850. 

Tears.        Kvmberof  Tears.        Number  of  Teaxi.       Number  of  Tears.  Number  of 

Arrirala.  ArriTals.  Anivals.  Arrivals. 

1831 2,241       1836 2,565  1841 3,488       1846 2,444 

1832 1,401       1837 1,547  1842 5,520  1847..:  ..1,186 

1833 2,672       1838 2,224  1843 8,727       1848 1,158 

1834 1,531       1889 1,441  1844 4,966       1849 1,729 

1845 2,493       1840 1,865  1845 3,357       1850 2,894 

Total  in  each  _— .              ■  ' 

5yesia        10,338                                9,142                                   21,058  9,411 

Total  in  each  10  yean.. 19,480 30,469 

Total  in  20  years 49,949 

Average  per  annum 2,497 

*  It  appears,  by  parliamentary  returoB,  aays  the  Fifth  Beport  of  the  Prison  Discipline  Society,  that,  in  the  year  1818,  out 
of  518  pitems  in  the  United  Kingdom  (to  wMch  upwarda  of  107,000  penone  were  omnmitted  in  the  ooune  of  that  year) 
iniSof  aoeh  priaona  only  the  Inmates  were  aeparated  or  divided  aooordlng  to  law ;  in  69  of  the  number,  there  waa  no  diTisicm 
whatever— not  even  aeparation  of  males  ftom  females ;  in  186  there  was  only  one  division  of  the  inmates  into  separate  cltimiee, 
thoof  h  the  Sith  George  III.,  eap.  84,  had  enjoined  that  eleven  snoh  divisions  should  be  made ;  in  68  there  were  but  two 
HMdaoB,  and  ao  on ;  whilst  in  only  S3  were  the  prisoners  separated  according  to  the  statute.  Again,  in  445  of  the  618  prisons 
no  work  of  any  description  had  been  introduced.  And  in  the  remaining  78,  the  onployment  carried  on  waa  of  the  slightest 
irotiiMff  description.  Farther,  in  100  jails,  wUdi  had  been  built  to  contain  only  8,545  prisoners,  there  were  at  one  time  aa 
naay  as  18,057  peracna  confined.  The  olasaUlcation  ei^oined  by  the  Act  above  mentioned  waa  aa  follows :— (1)  Prisonora 
oanvietcd  of  felony ;  (2)  Prisoners  committed  on  charge  or  suspicion  of  UUxmj ;  (8)  Prisoners  committed  fbr,  or  adjudged  to 
be  guilty  of,  misdemeanours  imly ;  (4)  Debtors ;  (S)  The  males  of  each  claas  to  be  separated  from  the  females ;  (6)  A  separate 
plaee  of  confinement  to  be  proTided  for  such  priaonera  aa  are  intended  to  be  examined  aa  wltneseea  on  behalf  of  any  proseou- 
tianofanyiadietawntfiirfiBlony;  (7)  Separate  Infirmaries,  or  atek  warda,  for  the  men  and  the  women. 


98  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LOITDON. 

at  the  allowanoe  of  iihreepenoe  or  fompenoe  per  day  for  each ;  the  profit  from  which,  together  with  fees  made 
compolaory  on  the  prisoners  when  discharged,  oonstitated  the  keeper's  salary.  The  debtor — ^the  prisoner  dis- 
chai^^  by  the  expiration  of  his  term  of  sentence,  by  acquittal,  or  pardon  from  the  Grown — had  alike  to  pay 
those  fees,  or  to  languish  in  confinement.  A  committal  to  prison,  mereoyer,  was  equivalent,  in  many  cases^ 
to  a  sentence  of  death  by  some  frightful  disease ;  and  in  all,  to  suffering  by  the  utmost  extremes  of  hunger 
and  cold.  One  disease,  generated  by  the  want  of  proper  ventilation,  warmth,  cleanliness,  and  food,  beoame 
known  as  the  jail  fever.  It  swept  away  hundreds  every  year,  and  sent  out  others  on  their  liberation 
miserably  enfeebled.  So  rife  was  this  disorder,  that  prisoners  arraigned  in  the  dock  brought  with  them  on 
one  occasion  such  a  pestilential  halo,  as  caused  many  in  the  court-house  to  sicken  and  die.  In  some  jsils  men 
and  women  were  together  in  the  day-room ;  in  all,  idleness,  obscenity,  and  blasphemy  reigned  undisturbed. 
The  keeper  cared  for  none  of  these  things.  His  highest  duty  was  to  keep  his  prisoner  safe,  and  his  highest 
aspiration  the  fees  squeezed  out  of  their  miserable  relatives.— (v.  Chaptert  en  Firisona  and  Primmen), 

This  system  of  prison  libertinism  continued  down  to  so  recent  a  period,  that  even  in  the  year  1829 
Captain  Cheeterton  found,  on  entering  upon  the  office  of  Oovemor  of  Coldbath  Fields  Prison,  the  intomal 
economy  of  that  institution  to  be  as  follows  : — 

"  The  best  acquainted  with  the  prison,"  says  the  Captain,  in  his  Autobiography  (vol.  ii.,  p.  247), ''  were 

utterly  ignorant  of  the  frightful  extent  of  its  demoralization The  procurement  of  dishonest 

gains  was  the  only  rule — ^from  the  late  governor  downwards — end  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  offioersi 
too  recently  appointed  to  have  learned  the  villainous  arcana  of  the  place,  all  were  engaged  in  a  race  of  fright- 
ful enormity It  is  impossible  for  the  mind  to  conceive  a  spectacle  more  gross  and  revolting 

than  the  internal  economy  of  this  polluted  spot The  great  majority  of  the  officers  were  a 

cunning  and  e^rttonate  crew,  practising  every  species  of  duplicity  and  chicanery From  one 

end  of  the  prison  to  the  other  a  vast  illicit  commerce  prevailed,  at  a  rate  of  profit  so  exorbitant  as  none  but 
the  most  elastic  consciences  could  have  devised  and  sustained.  The  law  forbade  every  species  of  indulgence, 
and  yet  there  was  not  one  that  was  not  easily  purchasable.  The  first  question  asked  of  a  prisoner  was — 
'  Had  he  any  money,  or  anything  that  could  be  turned  into  money?  or  would  any  friend,  if  written  to,  advance 
him  some  P '  and  if  the  answer  were  affirmative,  then  the  game  of  spoliation  commenced.  In  some 
instances,  as  much  as  seven  or  eight  shillings  in  the  pound  went  to  the  turnkey,  with  a  couple  of  shillings  to 
the  *  yards-man,'  who  was  himself  a  prisoner,  and  had  purchased  his  appointment  fh>m  the  turnkey,  at  a 
cost  of  never  less  than  five  pounds,  and  frequently  more.  Then  a  fellow  called  the  '  passage-man '  would 
put  in  a  claim  also,  and  thus  the  prison  novice  would  soon  discover  that  he  was  in  a  place  where  fees  were 

exorbitant  and  chvges  multiplied If  a  sense  of  injustice  led  him  to  complain,  he  was  called  '  a 

nose,'  and  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  whole  yard,  by  passing  through  a  double  tile  of  scoundrels,  whoy 
facing  inwards,  assailed  him  with  short  ropes  or  well-knotted  handkerchiefr.  ....  The  poor  and 
friendless  prisoner  was  a  wretchedly  oppressed  man ;  he  was  kicked  and  buffeted,  made  to  do  any  revolting 

work,  and  dared  not  complain If  a  magistrate  casually  visited  the  prison,  rapid  signals 

communicated  the  fact,  and  he  would  walk  through  something  like  outward  order.  .  •  .  •  Litde^  how- 
ever, was  the  unsuspecting  justice  aware  that  almost  every  cell  was  hollowed  out  to  constitute  a  hidden 
store,  where  tobacco  and  pipes,  tea  and  co£fee,  butter  and  cheese,  reposed  safe  from  inquisitive  observation ; 
and  frequently,  besides,  bottles  of  wine  and  spirits,  fish-sauce,  and  various  strange  luxuries.  In  the  evening^ 
when  farther  intrusion  was  unlooked-for,  smoking,  and  drinking,  and  singing,  tbe  recital  of  thievish  exploits, 
and  every  species  of  demoralizing  conversation  prevailed.  The  prisoners  slept  three  in  a  cell,  or  in  crowded 
rooms ;  and  no  one,  whose  mmd  was  previously  imdefiled,  oould  sustain  one  pure  and  honest  sentiment 
under  a  system  so  frightfully  corrupting.  •  •  .  •  Upon  one  occasion,  during  my  nightly  rounds,"  con- 
tinues the  late  goven^or,  '*I  overheard  a  young  man  of  really  honost  principles  arguing  with  two  hardened 
scoundrels.  He  was  in  prison  for  theft,  but  declared  that,  had  it  not  been  for  a  severe  illness,  which  had 
utterly  reduced  him,  he  would  never  have  stolen.  His  companions  laughed  at  his  scruples,  and  advocated 
general  spoliation.  In  a  tone  of  indignant  remonstrance,  the  young  man  said,  *  Surely  you  would  not  rob  a 
poor  countryman,  who  had  arrived  in  town  with  only  a  few  shillings  in  his  pocket ! '  Whereupon,  one  of  his 
companions,  turning  lazily  in  his  crib,  and  yawning  as  he  did  so,  exclaimed  in  answer,  *  By  God  Almighty,  I 
would  rob  my  own  &ther,  if  I  could  get  a  shilling  out  of  him.' "  t 

Further,  Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon,  writing  on  the  London  prisons — even  so  lately  as  the  year  1850 — says, 
"  The  mind  must  be  lost  to  all  sense  of  shame  which  can  witness  the  abominations  of  Borsemonger  Lane  or 
Giltspur  Street  Compter"  (the  latter  has  since  been  removed),  "  without  feelings  of  scorn  and  indignation.  In 
OUtspur  Street  Compter,  the  prisoners  sleep  in  small  cells,  little  more  than  half  the  size  of  those  at  Penton* 
ville,  though  the  latter  are  calculated  to  be  only  just  large  enough  for  on*  inmate,  even  when  ventilated  upon 
the  best  plan  that  science  can  suggest  But  Ihe  cell  in  Giltspur  Street  Compter  is  either  not  ventilated  at 
all,  or  ventilated  very  imperfectly ;  and  though  little  more  than  half  the  dimensions  of  the  '  model  ceUs ' 
constructed  for  one  prisoner,  I  have  seen^Sps  persons  locked  up  at  four  o'dock  in  the  day,  to  be  there  confined 

*  PtoM,  Watt  and  Adveniun,  tm  AuMhgraphjf,  by  Ghsrles  Laval  ChestertOiV 


OP  PRISON  DISCIPLrNE.  99 

tin  the  next  morning  in  dBrknees  and  idleness,  to  do  all  the  offices  of  natare,  not  merely  in  each  other's 
presence,  Vut  crashed  by  the  narrowness  of  their  den,  into  a  state  of  filthy  contact,  which  brute  beasts  would 
hare  resisted  to  the  last  gasp  of  life.  ....  Could  five  of  the  purest  men  in  the  world  liye  together  in 
SDcfa  a  manner,  without  losing  eyery  attribute  of  good  which  had  once  belonged  to  them  }** 

At  Kewgate,  on  the  other  hand,  continues  the  same  authority,  ^*  in  any  of  the  female  wards  may  be  seen 
a  we^  before  the  sessions,  a  collection  of  persons  of  erery  shade  of  guilt  and  some  who  are  innocent.  I 
remember  one  ease  particularly.  A  servant  girl  of  about  sixteen,  a  fresh-looking  healthy  creature,  recently  up 
firom  the  country,  was  charged  by  her  mistress  with  stealing  a  brooch.  She  was  in  the  same  room— liyed  all 
day,  slept  all  night,  with  the  most  abandoned  of  her  sex.  They  were  left  alone ;  they  had  no  work  to  do,  no 
books — except  a  few  tracts,  for  which  they  had  no  taste — ^to  read.  The  whole  day  was  spent,  as  is  usual  in 
fliiefa  prisons,  in  telling  stories — the  gross  and  guilty  stories  of  their  own  liyes.  There  is  no  form  of  wickedness, 
no  aspect  of  vice,  with  which  the  poor  creature's  mind  would  not  be  compelled  to  grow  funiliar  in  the  few 
weeks  which  she  passed  in  Newgate  awaiting  triaL  When  the  day  came  the  eyidenoe  against  her  was  found 
to  be  ntterly  lame  and  weak,  and  she  was  at  once  acquitted.  That  she  entered  Newgate  innocent,  I  haye  no 
doabt ;  but  who  shall  answer  for  the  state  in  which  she  left  it  ?  "* 

*0*  O/iks  Several  Kindt  ofPrieon  DiteipUne, — The  aboye  statements  will  giye  the  reader  a  faint  notion 
of  the  condition  of  some  of  the  metropolitan  prisons,  eyen  in  our  own  time.  As  a  remedy  for  such  defective 
prison-economy,  no  less  than  fiye  different  systems  haye  been  proposed  and  tried.  These  are  as  follows :-« 
(1.)  The  classification  of  prisoners ;  (2.)  The  silent  associated  system ;  (3.)  The  separate  system ;  (4.)  The 
mixed  system ;  (6.)  The  mark  system ;  to  which  must  be  added  that  original  system  which  allows  the  indis« 
criminate  association  and  communion  of  prisoners  as  aboye  described,  and  which  is  generally  styled  the  ''city 
system,"  or  no  system  at  aU-— ''  the  chief  negative  features"  of  which,  according  to  Mr.  Dixon,  are  **  no  work, 
no  iustniction,  no  superintendence ;  "  while  its  "poeitivs  features"  are  *'  idleness,  illicit  gambling,  filthiness, 
unnatural  crowding,  unlimited  licenoe  (broken  at  times  by  seyerities  at  which  tha  sense  of  justice  revolts),  and 
nniyeraal  corruption  of  each  prisoner  by  his  fellow8."t 

^«*  l%e  Claeei/leatim  of  Prieonere.^^AB  regards  tl^at  system  of  prison  discipline  which  seeks  to  prevent 
the  further  demoralisation  of  tbe  criminal,  by  the  separation  of  prisoners  into  classes,  according  to  the 
ofienoee  with  which  they  are  charged  or  convicted,  it  has  been  said,  by  the  Inspectors  of  Prisons  for  the 
Home  District :{ — ''A  prison  would  soon  lose  its  terrors.as  a  place  of  punishment,  if  its  depraved  occu- 
pants were  suffered  to  indulge  in  the  kind  of  society  within  the  jail  which  they  had  always  preferred  when 
at  large ;  and,  instead  of  a  place  of  reformation,  the  jail  would  become  the  best  institution  that  could  be 
devised  for  instructing  its  inmates  in  all  the  mysteries  of  vice  and  crime,  if  the  professors  of  guilt  confined 
tiiere  were  suffered  to  make  disciples  of  such  as  might  be  comparatively  ini^opent.  To  remedy  this  evil, 
therefbare,"  the  Prison  Inspectors  add,  "  we  must  resort  to  elaeeijkation.  The  young,"  they  say,  "  must 
be  separated  from  the  old ;  then  we  must  make  a  division  between  the  novice  and  practised  offenders. 
Again,  subdivisions  will  be  indispensable,  in  proportion  as  in  each  of  the  classes  there  are  found  individuals 
of  different  degrees  of  depravity,  and  among  whom  must  be  numbered,  not  only  the  oorrupters,  but  those 
who  are  ready  to  receive  their  lessons." 

But  though  it  would  seem  to  be  a  consequence  of  this  mode  of  discipline,  as  Colonel  Jebb  well  observes, 
in  his  work  on  '*  Modern  Prisons,"  that  *'  if  each  jail  class  respectively  be  composed  of  burglars,  or  assault 
and  battery  men,  or  sturdy  beggars,  they  will  acquire  under  it  increased  proficiency  only  in  picking  locks, 
fighting,  or  imposing  on  the  tender  mercies  of  mankind ;"  nevertheless,  it  was  found,  immediately  the 
elaasifieation  of  prisoners  was  brought  into  operation,  that  '*  a  very  difficult  and  unforeseen  condition  had  to 
be  dealt  with.  The  burglar  was  occasionally  sent  to  prison  for  trying  his  hand  at  begging— a  professed 
aheep-stealer  for  doing  a  little  business  as  a  thimblerig  man — and  a  London  thief  for  showing  flight  at  a 
country  fiur."  Hence,  by  the  classification  of  prisoners  according  to  the  offences  of  which  they  were  con- 
Tieted,  such  people  were  brought  into  fellowship,  during  their  imprisonment,  with  a  class  wholly  different 
from  fhoT  own,  and  **  often  came  to  be  associated  for  some  months  in  jail  with  the  simple  clown  who  had 
been  detected,  perhaps,  in  his  first  petty  offence." 

**  Classification  of  prisoners,"  says  Mr.  Kingsnull,  too,  "  allows  no  approach,  seemingly,  towards  sepa- 
rating the  very  bad  from  the  better  sort  They  are  continually  changing  places ;  those  in  for  felony  at  one 
sffiftM  being  in  for  laroeny  or  assault  the  next,  and  vice  vend,*' 

**  Parther,"  observe  the  Home  Inspectors,  '*  grades  in  moral  guilt  are  not  the  immediate  subject  of 
human  observation,  nor,  if  discovered,  are  they  capable  of  being  so  nicely  discriminated  as  to  enable  us  to 
assign  to  each  individual  criminal  his  precise  place  in  the  comparative  scale  of  vice,  whilst,  if  they  eould  be 
accurately  perceived  by  us,  it  would  appear  that  no  two  individuals  were  oontaminated  in  exactly  the  same 

•  LamUm  Prieom,  by  Hepworth  Dixon,  pp.  7—10.  t  Ibid.  %  Vide  8rd  Beport,  pp.  69, 60. 


100  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

degroo.  MoraoYer,  even  if  these  difficulties  could  be  simnonnted,  and  a  dass  formed  of  orimiiialB  who  had 
adTanoed  just  to  the  same  point,  not  only  of  offence,  but  of  moral  deprayitj,  still  their  association  in  prison 
would  be  sure  to  produce  a  farther  progress  in  both." 

When,  therefore,  pubHo  attention  was  called  to  the  defectiye  construction,  as  well  as  to  the  demoralizing 
and  neglected  discipline  of  the  prisons  of  this  country,  some  twenty  or  thirty  years  ago,  **  it  was  most 
unfortunate  for  all  the  interests  concerned,"  writes  the  Sunreyor-General  of  Prisons,  *'  that  a  step  waa 
made  in  the  wrong  direction ;  for  it  was  considered  that  if  prisoners  could  be  clsssifted,  eyerything  would  be 
effected  that  could  be  desired  in  the  way  of  punishment  and  reformation.*  ....  Accordingly,  Tast 
sums  of  money  were  expended  in  the  erection  of  prisons  calculated  to  £eudlitate  the  dassifioation  of  piisooierB. 
Now  prisons  for  carrying  out  this  discipline  were  constructed  on  a  radiating  principle — a  central  tower  waa 
supposed  to  contain  an  Argus  (or  point  of  uniyersal  inspection),  and  from  four  to  six  or  eight  detached 
blocks  of  ceUs  radiated  (spoke-fiishion)  from  it — ^the  intervals  between  the  buildings  forming  the  exerciaing 
yards  for  the  different  classes.  Each  of  the  detached  blocks  contained  a  certain  number  of  small  cella 
(generally  about  8  feet  X  fi) ;  and  there  were  day-rooms  in  them,  where  the  prisoners  of  the  dass  would  sit 
over  the  fire,  and  while  away  time  by  instructing  each  other  in  Uie  mysteries  of  their  respectiYe  avocations ; 
for  it  was  not  intended  by  this  mode  of  discipline  to  check  the  recognized  right  of  each  class  to  amuse  them- 
selves as  they  pleased.  In  feu^t,"  adds  the  Colond,  **  had  it  been  an  object  to  make  provision  for  compulsory 
education  in  crime,  no  better  plan  could  have  been  devised." 

*0*  The  Silent  Aisoeiaied  Bystem. — ^Next  as  to  the  **8ilmt,"  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the  '<  silent 
associated,*'  system,  the  following  is  a  brief  review  of  its  characteristios  and  results.  Whilst  the  dassifioation 
of  offenders  continues  to  this  day  to  be  the  discipline  carried  out  in  many  prisons,  the  prevention  of  contami- 
nation is  sought  to  be  attained  in  others,  where  hardly  any  such  classification  exists,  by  the  prohibition  of  all 
intercourse  by  word  of  mouth  among  the  prisoners.  **  If  the  members  of  each  class  of  prisoners,"  says  an 
eminent  authority,  "  instead  of  being  left,  as  they  are  in  most  prisons,  to  imrestricted  social  intercourse,  were 
eompdled  to  work,  under  the  immediate  superintendence  of  an  officer  whose  duty  it  would  be  to  punish  any 
man  who,  by  word  of  mouth,  look,  or  sign,  attempted  to  communicate  with  his  fellow-prisoner,  we  should 
have  the  silent  system  in  operation."  But  as  minute  classification  is  not,  under  the  silent  system,  so  abeolutely 
necessary  aa  when  intercourse  is  permitted,  the  usual  practice  is  to  associate  such  classes  as  can  be  properly 
brought  together,  in  order  to  economise  superintendence ;  and  hence  its  name  of  the  Silent  Associated  System, 
in  contradistinction  to  the  Classified  System,  under  whidi  intercommunication  is  permitted. 

*  The  Aot  of  Parliament  enjoining  the  elasriftoatlon  of  primiers  was  the  4th  of  George  IT.  (a.]>.  1823),  eap.  64^  and  bad 
the  following  preamble :— '*  Whereas  the  laws  now  existing  relatiTe  to  the  building,  repairingi  and  regulating  of  Jails  and 
honses  of  oorrection  in  England  and  Wales  are  oomplicated,  and  have  in  many  oases  been  found  ine£RBotual :  And  whereas  it 
is  expedient  that  such  measures  should  be  adopted  and  such  arrangements  mnde  as  shall  not  only  provide  for  the  safe  enstody, 
but  shall  also  tend  more  effectually  to  preeerre  the  health  and  improve  the  morals  of  the  prisoners  confined  therein,  as  w^ 
as  ensure  the  proper  measure  of  punishment  to  oouTicted  offenders :  And  whereas  due  olassification,  inspeotkm,  regular 
labour,  and  employment,  and  religious  and  moral  instruetian,  are  easential  to  the  discipline  of  a  prison,  and  to  the  reformatio 
of  ofltoden^"  Ac,  Ac. ;  therefore  the  following  rules  and  regulations  (among  others  are  ordained  to  be  observed  in  all 
Jails:— 

**  The  male  and  fbmale  prisoners  shall  be  confined,"  says  this  statute,  **  in  separate  buildings  or  parts  of  the  prison,  so  as 
to  prevent  them  from  seeing,  conversing,  or  holding  any  intercourse  with  each  other. 

**  The  prisoners  of  each  sex  shall  be  divided  into  distinct  classes,  care  being  taken  that  prisoners  of  the  following  nlsmare 
do  not  intermix  with  each  other  :— 

In  Jails, 

let  Debtors  and  persons  confined  for  eontempt  of  court 

•r  civil  process. 
Snd,  Priwners  convicted  of  felony. 
Srd.  Prisoners  convicted  of  misdemeanors. 
4th.  PriBoners  eonvicted  on  charge  or  suspicion  of  felony. 
Ath.  Prisoners  convicted  on  charge  or  suspicion  of  mis- 


In  ffovtet  of  GfrrectuM, 

1st.  Prisoners  convicted  of  felony. 

2nd.  Prisoners  convioted  of  misdemeanors. 

Srd.  Prisoners  committed  on  oharge  or  suspielan  of 

felony. 
4th  Prisoners  committed  on  oharge  or  suspicion  of  mis* 
demeanors, 
demeanors,  or  for  want  of  sureties.  :    6th.  Vagrants. 

«  Bneh  prisoneis,"  adds  the  Aot,  "  as  are  intended  to  be  examined  as  witnesses  in  behalf  of  the  Grown  in  any  prosecution 
Shall  alM>  be  kept  separate  in  all  Jails  and  houses  of  correction." 

Again,  by  the  2nd  and  Srd  of  Victoria  (▲.o.  1839),  cap.  56,  it  is  enacted,  **  that  the  prisoners  of  each  sex  in  every  Jail,  housn 
of  oorrectfon,  bridewell,  or  penitentiary,  in  England  and  Wales,  which,  before  the  passing  of  this  Act,  did  not  come  within 
the  provisions  of  the  4th  of  George  IV.,  and  in  which  a  more  minute  clsssiflcation  or  Individual  separation  shall  not  be  in 
isree,  Shall  be  at  least  divided  into  the  following  classes  (that  is  to  say)  :— 

Ist,  Debtors  in  those  prisons  in  which  debtors  can  be  lawfUly  eonfined.' 

2nd.  Prisoners  committed  for  trial. 

Srd.  Prisoners  convicted  and  sentenced  to  hard  labour, 

4tb.  Prisoners  convicted  and  sentenced  to  hard  labour. 

5th.  Prisoners  not  included  in  the  foregoing  classes. 

**  And  that  in  every  prison  in  England  and  Wales  separate  rules  and  regnlations  shall  be  made  te  eaeh  distlast  dass  o* 
prisoners  in  that  prieoo." 


OF  PBISON  DISCIPUKE.  101 

The  fflent  system  on^ntted  in  a  deep  oonyiotion  of  the  great  and  manifold  eyila  of  jail  atsoeiatum^  the 
adTooates  of  that  STstem  naturally  aappoBing  that  the  demoraHzation  of  criminalfl  would  be  checked  if  all 
oommimication  among  them  were  out  off;  and  the  greater  number  of  priaona,  in  which  any  Amdamental 
change  of  diacipline  has  been  efibcted  during  the  last  twenty  yean,  are  now  conducted  on  tiie  ailent  plan. 
At  Coldbath  Fields  Prison  this  system  haa  been  carried  to  its  utmost.  It  was  introduced  there  on  the  29th 
December,  1834.  "  On  which  day,"  says  Captain  Chesterton,  in  his  Autobiography,  **'  the  number  of  914 
priaonen  were  suddenly  apprised  that  all  intercommunication  by  word,  gesture,  or  sign  was  prohibited ;  and 
without  any  approach  to  overt  opposition,  the  silent  system  thenceforth  became  the  rule  of  the  prison.  .  • 
.  .  Thoae  who  had  watched  and  deplored  the  former  system,'*  adds  the  late  Goyemor,  *'  could  not  but 
regard  the  change  with  heartfelt  satisfkction.  There  was  now  a  real  protection  to  morals,  and  it  no  longer 
became  the  reproach  of  authority,  that  the  comparatiyely  innocent  were  consigned  to  certain  demoralization 
and  ruin.  For  eighteen  years  haa  thia  system  been  maintained  in  this  prison  with  unswerving  strictness. 
.  .  .  I  unhesitatingly  avow  my  conviction,  that  the  silent  system,  properly  administered,  is  calculated  to 
effect  aa  much  good  as,  by  any  penal  process,  we  can  hope  to  realiae." 

The  objectians  to  the  system,  however,  appear  to  be  manifold  and  cogent.  First,  the  silent  system  seems 
to  require  an  inordinate  number  of  officers  to  prevent  that  intercommunication  among  priaoners  "  by  word, 
sign,  or  gesture,"  which  constitutes  its  essence.  At  Coldbath  Fields  Prison,  for  instance,  no  less  than  272 
peiaona  (54  warders  -|-  218  prisoners,  appointed  to  act  as  monitors  over  their  fellow-criminalB)  were  employed 
to  superintend  682  inmates,  which  is  in  the  ratio  of  10  officers  to  every  25  prisoners.  Nevertheless,  even 
this  large  body  of  overseers  waa  found  insufficient  to  prevent  all  communication  among  the  criminals — ^the 
rule  of  silence  being  repeatedly  infracted,  and  the  prison  punishments  increasing  considerably  after  the  silent 
system  had  been  introduced.  "  Punishments,"  says  the  late  (Governor,  **  are  more  frequent  now  than  when 
we  began  the  system."  Indeed,  "  in  one  year,"  we  are  told,  <*  no  less  than  6,794  punishments  were  inflicted 
for  talking,  &c."« 

But  if  it  be  difficult  to  prevent  prisoners  from  audibly  talking  with  each  other,  it  is  next  to  impossible, 
even  by  the  most  extensive  ntrveiUemeey  to  check  the  interchange  of  significant  tigm  among  them.  "  Although 
there  ia  a  turnkey  stationed  in  each  tread-wheel  yard,"  says  the  Second  Beport  of  Inspectors  of  Prisons  for 
the  Home  District,  "  and  two  monitors,  or  wardsmen,  selected  fi^m  the  prisoners,  stand  constantly  by,  the 
men  on  the  wheel  can,  and  do,  speak  to  each  other.  They  ask  one  another  how  long  they  are  sentenced  for, 
and  when  they  are  going  out ;  and  answers  are  given  by  laying  two  or  three  fingers  on  the  wheel  to  signify 
so  many  months,  or  by  pointing  to  some  of  the  many  inscriptions  carved  on  the  tread- wheel  as  to  the  terms 
of  imprisonment  su£fered  by  former  prisoners,  or  else  they  turn  their  hands  to  express  unlockings  or  days." 

Again :  "The  posture  of  stooping,  in  which  the  prisoners  work  at  picking  oskum  or  cotton  (we  are  told 
in  the  Bev.  Mr.  Kingsmill's  "  Chapters  on  Prisons  and  Prisoners"),  gives  ample  opportunity  of  carzying  on  a 
lengthened  conversation  without  much  chance  of  discovery ;  so  that  the  rule  of  silence  is  a  dead  letter  to 
many.  At  meals,  also,  in  spite  of  the  strictness  with  which  the  prisoners  are  watched,  the  order  is  constantly 
infringed.  The  time  of  exercise  again  affords  an  almost  unlimited  power  of  communicating  with  each  other ; 
fiyr  the  closeness  of  the  prisoners'  position,  and  the  noise  of  their  feet  render  intercommunication  at  such  times 
a  very  easy  matter.  ....  Farther,  the  prisoners,  attend  chapel  daily,  and  thia  may  be  termed  the 
golden  period  of  the  day  to  most  of  them ;  for  it  is  here,  by  holding  their  books  to  their  faces  and  pretending 
to  read  with  Uie  chaplain,  that  they  can  carry  on  the  most  uninterrupted  conversation." 

Kot  only,  however,  is  the  silent  system  open  to  grave  objections,  because  it  fails  in  its  attempt  to  prevent 
intercourse  among  prisoners  promiscuously  associated,  but  it  has  even  more  serious  evils  connected  with  it. 
**  The  mind  of  the  prisoner,"  it  has  been  well  said,  "  is  kept  perpetually  on  the  firet  by  the  prohibition  of 
Bpeecfa,  and  it  ia  drawn  frt>m  the  contemplation  of  his  own  conduct  and  degraded  position,  to  the  invention 
of  devioes  for  defiBating  hia  overseers,  or  for  carrying  on  a  clandestine  communication  with  his  fellow- 
prisoners,  deriving  no  benefit  meanwhile  firom  the  offices  of  religion,  but  rather  oonverting  such  offices  into 
an  opportunity  for  eluding  the  vigilance  of  the  warders,  and  being  still  fiurther  depraved  by  frequent  punish- 
ment for  offences  of  a  purely  arbitrary  character ;  for  surely  to  place  a  nmnber  of  social  beings  in  association, 
and  then  not  only  interdiot  all  intercourse  between  them,  but  to  punish  such  aa  yield  to  that  most  powerful 

*  Ibe  number  of  poaidunentB  whkh  were  IniUeted  mder  Che  silent  syitem,  la  three  London  priscmB,  in  the  ooone  of 
ens  jmer,  wm  as  ftrflows  :— 

Number  of  Priaaners  (Male  and   Number    of  Punlahments   finr 
Female)  in  the  ooune  of  Offenoes  within  the  Priwm  ia 

one  year.  the  ooune  of  one  year. 

Brixton  Honee  of  Conreetioa  .  •       •       .       •       S,285  1,171 

WertminaterBrideireU(Tothni  Field*).       .       .       .       6,534  4,84B 

Coldbath  Fields  Honae  of  Oorreotlon     ....       9,750  18,812 

{jBeoimd  JUport  tff  Inapteton  <tf  RHaomfnr  Some  DitlHeL) 

Thm  averace  es]iense  of  eaeh  eonvlet  kept  in  a  hoose  of  oorrootion,  under  the  ailent  ayatem,  ia  about  iSli  per  annum,  or 
.  Wtweea  4W  and  £66  far  four  years. 


102  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

of  human  impnlflea— the  desire  of  commtming  with  those  with  whom  we  are  thrown  into  connection — ^ia  an 
aot  of  refined  tyranny,  that  ia  at  once  nnjuat  and  impoBdhle  of  being  thoroughly  carried  out. 

^«*  TheSeparaU  Syttem.— -It  is  almost  self-evident  that  every  system  of  prison  discipline  must  be 
associative,  separative,  or  mixed.  1.  The  prisoners  may  be  either  allowed  to  associate  indiscriminately,  and 
to  indulge  in  unrestrained  intercourse ;  or  else,  in  order  to  prevent  the  evils  of  unrestricted  communion, 
among  the  older  and  younger  criminals,  as  well  as  the  more  expert  and  the  less  artful,  when  associated 
together,  the  prisoners  may  be  made  to  labour  as  well  as  take  their  exercise  and  meals  in  perfect  silence. 
2.  We  may  put  a  stop  to  such  association,  either  partially  or  eniirtlffy  by  separating  the  prisoners  into  dasMfty 
according  to  their  crimes,  ages,  or  characters,  or  else  by  separating  tiiem  mdmduaUy,  each  from  the  other,  and 
thus  endeavour  to  check  the  injurious  effect  of  indiscriminate  intercourse  among  the  depraved,  by  positive 
isolation  rather  than  classification.  8.  We  may  permit  them  to  associate  in  silence  during  the  day,  and 
isolate  them  at  night-^the  latter  method  oonstitutiDg  what  is  termed  the  mixed  system  of  prison  discipline. 

The  separate  system  is  defined  by  the  Surveyor-General  of  Prisons  as  that  mode  of  penal  discipline  *'  in 
which  each  individual  prisoner  is  confined  in  a  cell,  which  becomes  his  workshop  by  day  and  his  bed-room 
by  night,  so  as  to  be  effectually  prevented  from  holding  communication  with,  or  even  being  seen  sufficiently 
to  be  recognized  by  a  fellow-prisoner." 

The  object  of  this  discipline  is  stated  to  be  twofold.  It  is  enforced,  not  only  to  prevent  the  prisoner 
having  intercourse  with  his  fellow-prisoners,  but  to  compel  him  to  hold  communion  with  himseUl  He  is 
excluded  from  the  society  of  the  other  criminal  inmates  of  the  prison,  because  experience  has  shown  that 
such  society  is  injurious,  and  he  is  urged  to  make  his  conduct  the  subject  of  his  own  reflections,  because  it  is 
almost  universally  found  that  such  self-communion  is  the  precursor  of  moral  amendment 

No  other  system  of  prison  discipline,  say  the  advocates  of  the  separate  system — neither  the  classified  nor 
the  silent  system — ^has  any  tendency  to  indiue  the  prisoner  to  turn  his  thoughts  back  upon  himself — to  cause 
him  to  reconsider  his  life  and  prospects,  or  to  estimate  the  wickedness  and  unprofitableness  of  crime.  The 
silent  system,  we  are  told,  can  call  forth  no  new  resolves,  nor  any  settled  determinations  of  amendment, 
whilst  it  fails  in  whoUy  securing  the  prisoner  from  contamination,  and  sets  the  mind  upon  the  rack  to  devise 
means  for  evading  the  irritating  restrictions  imposed  upon  it. 

The  advantages  of  individual  separation,  therefore,  say  those  who  believe  this  system  to  be  superior  to  all 
others,  are  not  merely  of  a  preventive  character— -preventive  of  the  inevitable  evils  of  association — preventive 
of  the  contamination  which  the  comparatively  innocent  cannot  escape  from,  when  brought  into  contact  with 
the  polluted ;  but  separation  at  once  renders  corrupt  intercourse  impracticable,  and  affords  to  the  prisoner 
direct  facilities  for  reflection  and  self-improvement. 

"Under  this  discipline,"  says  the  Rev.  Mr.  Kingsmill,  chaplain  of  Pentonville  Prison,  **  the  propagation 
of  crime  is  impossible —the  continuity  of  vicious  habits  is  broken  off— the  mind  is  driven  to  reflection,  and 
conscience  resumes  her  sway." 

The  convicted  criminal,  under  this  system,  is  confined  day  and  night  in  a  cell  that  is  fitted  with  every 
convenience  essential  to  ensure  ventilation,  warmth,  cleanliness,  and  personal  exercise.  Whatever  is  neces- 
sary to  the  preservation  of  the  prisoner's  well-being,  moi'al  as  well  as  physical,  is  strictly  attended  to.  So 
far  from  being  consigned  to  the  gloomy  terrors  of  solitary  confinement,  he  is  visited  by  the  governor  as  well 
as  by  the  chaplain,  and  other  prison  officers  daily  ;  he  is  provided  with  work  which  furnishes  employment 
for  his  mind — has  access  to  profitable  books-^is  allowed  to  take  exercise  once  in  every  twenty-four  hours  in 
the  open  aiiv-is  required  to  attend  every  day  in  the  chapel,  and,  if  xmeducated,  at  the  school ;  and,  in  case  of 
illness  or  sudden  emergency,  he  has  the  means  of  making  his  wants  known  to  the  officers  of  the  prison. 

"  On  reviewing  our  opinions"  (with  respect  to  the  moral  effect  of  the  discipline  of  separate  oonfinement), 
says  the  Fifth  Beport  of  the  Board  of  Commissioners  appointed  to  superintend  the  working  of  Pentonville 
Prison,  '*  and  taking  advantage  of  the  experience  of  another  year,  we  feel  warranted  in  expressing  our  firm 
conviction,  that  tlie  moral  results  of  the  system  have  been  most  encouraging,  and  attended  with  a  success 
which  we  believe  is  unthowt  parallel  in  the  history  of  prison  discipline**  Farther,  the  Commissionen  add 
"  the  result  of  our  entire  experience  is  the  conclusion,  that  the  separation  of  one  prisoner  from  another  is  <A# 
only  sound  basis  on  which  a  reformatory  can  be  established  with  any  reasonable  hope  of  success." 

Again,  the  Governor  of  Pentonville  Prison  (who  has  watched  the  operation  of  the  system  from  its  intro- 
daction  in  1842)  says,  in  his  Sixth  Beport,  "  If  I  may  express  an  abstract  opinion  on  the  subject,  not  supported 
by  facts  and  reasons,  it  shall  be  to  this  effects—that  having  at  the  first  felt  confidence  in  the  powers  and 
capabilities  of  the  system  for  the  accomplishment  of  its  objects,  and  that  no  valid  objection  could  be  raised 
against  it,  if  rightly  administered,  on  the  ground  of  its  being  injurious  to  physical  or  mental  health ;  a  period 
of  more  than  five  years  of  dose  personal  experience  of  its  working  has  left  that  sentiment  not  only  unim-> 
paired,  but  confirmed  and  strengthened." 

Such  are  the  eminent  eulogiums  uttered  by  the  advocates  of  the  separate  system  of  penal  discipline ;  and 
let  us  now  in  fairness  give  a  sununaiy  of  the  objections  raised  against  it    It  is  alleged,  in  the  first  place. 


OF  PEISON  DISCIPLINE.  103 

Cbat  file  diseipline  Is  imwarantably  serere.  It  is  roprmonted  aa  abandoning  its  yictim  to  despair,  by  con- 
ngniDg  a  TBicant  or  grulty  mind  to  ail  tiie  tanible  depreasion  of  unbroken  solitude.  Indeed,  it  is  often  con- 
AtmnyjfA  SB  being  another  form  of  eolitaiy  confinement,  the  idea  of  which  is  so  closely  connected  in  the  public 
mind  iri&  tiio  dask  dnngeona  and  oppreaaiye  omelty  of  the  Middle  Agea,  aa  to  be  sufficient  to  excite  the 
atimgeal  emotiona  of  abhorrence  in  ereiy  English  bosom. 

Colonel  Jebb  telle  na,  that  there  is  a  wide  difference  between  separate  and  toliiary  confinement  He  says, 
that  in  the  Act  (2nd  and  3rd  Yictoria,  cap.  66)  which  rendered  sepaiate  confinement  legal,  it  was  specially 
enjoined  that  "  no  oell  should  be  used  for  that  purpose  which  is  not  of  such  a  siae,  and  lighted,  and  warm, 
Yvntilated  and  fitted  up  in  sneh  a  manner  aa  may  be  required  by  a  due  regard  to  health,  and  furnished  with 
the  meana  of  enabling  the  prisoner  to  communicate  at  any  time  with  an  officer  of  the  prison.'*  It  was 
furthsr  prorided,  too,  by  the  same  Act,  that  each  priaoner  diould  hare  the  meana  of  taking  exerdae  when 
required;  tiwt  he  ahould  be  aupplied  with  the  meana  of  moral  and  religioua  inatruction — with  books,  and  also 
wtth  labour  and  employment.  ^Whereas,  a  priaoner  under  doUtary  confinement,"  aaya  the  Surveyor- 
General  of  Priaona,  ^  may  be  not  only  placed  in  any  kind  of  cell,  but  ia  generally  locked  up  and  fed  on  bread 
and  water  only,  no  further  trouble  being  taken  about  him.  A  mode  of  discipline  so  severe,"  he  adds,  '*  that  it 
cannot  be  l^aUy  enforced  for  more  than  a  month  at  a  time,  nor  for  more  than  three  months  in  any  one  year." 

**'  Under  aoUta/ry  eonfinement,"  another  prison  authority  observes,  ^  the  prisoner  is  deprived  of  intercourse 
with  all  other  human  beinga.  Under  aepa/rote  confinement,  he  is  kept  rigidly  apart  only  from  other  enmifuUt^ 
but  is  allowed  aa  much  intercourse  with  inatmctora  and  offioera,  aa  ia  compatible  with  judicioua  economy." — 
Bort'a  RemiU  of  Separate  Cof^fbmnmt, 

A  aeoond  objection  to  the  separate  or  cellular  system  i%  that  it  breaka  down  the  mental  and  bodily  health 
of  the  priaonera— that  it  foroea  the  mind  to  be  continually  brooding  over  ita  own  guilt — constantly  urging  the 
priaoner  to  contemplate  the  degradation  of  his  position,  and  seeking  to  impress  upon  him  that  his  crimes  have 
caused  him  to  be  excluded  from  all  society;  and  that  with  the  better  dass  of  criminals,  especially  those  with 
whom  the  ties  of  kindred  are  strong,  it  produces  not  only  auoh  a  continued  sorrow  at  being  cut  off  from  all 
relativea,  and  indeed  every  one  but  prison  offioera,  but  such  a  long  insatiate  yearning  to  get  back  to  all  that  ia 
held  dear,  that  the  punishment  becomes  more  than  naturea  which  are  not  utterly  callous  are  able  to  withstand;  so 
that,  iuatcad  of  reforming,  it  utterly  overwhelma  and  destroya  With  more  vacant  intellects  and  hardened 
hearta,  however,  it  aervea  to  make  the  prisoners  even  more  unfeeHng  and  unthinking ;  for  sympathy  alone 
develope  sympathy,  and  thought  in  others  ia  required  to  call  forth  thought  in  us.  In  a  word,  it  is  urged  that 
this  mode  of  penal  discipline  cagea  a  man  up  aa  if  he  were  aome  dangerous  beast,  allowing  his  den  to  be 
entered  only  by  his  "keeper,"  and  that  it  enda  in  hia  becoming  aa  irrational  and  fiirioua  as  a  beast ;  in  fine, 
aay  the  opptmenta  of  the  system,  "it  violates  the  great  social  law  instituted  by  the  Almighty,  and  ao  working 
cuntrary  to  nature,  it  ia  idle  to  expect  any  good  of  it" 

Now,  let  us  see  whether  there  be  truth  in  such  strictures,  or  whether  they  be  mere  empty  rhodomontade. 
Fortunately,  we  posseaa  ample  meana,  and  thoae  of  a  most  truatworthy  character,  for  teating  the  validity  of 
theae  objectiona.  Let  ua  see,  then,  what  ia  the  proportionate  number  of  criminal  lunatica  to  the  total  prison 
population  in  England  and  Walea ;  and  in  order  to  guard  against  the  errors  of  generalizing  upon  a  small 
number  of  partieulara,  let  ua  draw  our  concluaiona  from  aa  large  a  aeriea  of  phenomena  aa  posaible. 

The  tablea  given  in  the  Fifteenth  Beport  of  the  Inapectors  of  Prisons  for  the  Home  District,  extend  over 
eight  years  (1842-1849,  both  inclusive},  and  show  that  in  the  course  of  that  period  there  were  altogether  680 
eaaea  of  lunacy  (or  an  average  of  86  caaea  per  annum)  occurring  in  all  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales, 
among  an  aggregate  of  1,166,166  prisoners  (or  an  average  yearly  prison  population  of  144,620  individuals). 
This  ia  at  the  rate  of  6*8  criminal  lunatica  in  every  10,000  prisoners,  and  such  may,  therefore,  be  taken  as 
the  flOTMaf  proportion  of  lunatic  caaea  in  a  given  number  of  criminal  offenders.*  If,  therefore,  any  mode  of 
pfiaon  diadpline  be  found  to  yield  a  greater  ratio  of  lunatica  to  the  number  of  offendera  brought  under  that 
discipline,  we  may  aafely  conclude  thai  it  ia  unduly  aevere ;   and  vies  versA  (assuming  crime  itself  to  be 

•  Tba  foUewiag  are  the  retmns  tnm  whleh  the  abore  eondniions  are  drawn :~ 

Tears. 
1843 
184S 
1844 
1845 
1816 
1847 
IMS 
1840 

Total. 


No.  of 

Total  Prison  Population 

Criminal 

No.  of  Criminal  Lmiatios 

In  Bngland  and  Wales. 

LunatioB. 

to  10,000  Ctiminala. 

153,186 

76 

4-9 

152,445 

64 

4*1 

143,079 

96 

6-6 

124,110 

90 

7-9 

128»286 

93 

7-4 

181,949 

96 

7-3 

160,869 

89 

5*6 

166,943 

68 

4-0 

•    .    1,156,166 

680 

"TJ 

Mean     144,530 

85 

5*8 

F^iemth  Beport  ofPnsofn  Jnepeetore^  p.  xxxir. 


104 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


oloflely  connected  ▼!&  mental  abeiration),  if  it  yield  a  leaa  proportion  than  the  aboTe^  then  it  ia  exerting  a 
beneficial  agency  on  the  criminal  temperament. 

The  returns  of  Pentonyille  priaon  are  for  a  period  of  eight  years  also  (from  the  22nd  of  December,  1842, 
to  the  3l8t  of  December,  1850),  and  these  show  that  in  an  aggregate  of  8,546  prisoners  (or  an  annual  mean  of 
443  indiyiduals),  there  were  no  less  than  22  attacked  with  insanity,  which  is  at  the  rate  of  62*0,  instead 
of  6*8,  eases  of  lunacy  in  every  10,000  prisoners ;  so  that  the  discipline  pursued  at  this  prison  yields  ifHcardSi 
of  tm  timet  more  Umaiiee  than  should  be  the  case  according  to  the  normal  rate.* 

According  to  these  returns,  therefore,  we  find  that  had  the  prisoners  confined  at  Pentonyille  prison  beea 
treated  in  the  same  manner  as  at  the  other  jails  throughout  the  country,  there  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  been  only  2  instead  of  22  cases  of  lunacy  in  the  eight  years,  among  the  3,546  prisoners  (for 
1,156,166  :  680  : :  8,546  :  2) ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  had  the  million  and  odd  criminals  confined  in  the 
whole  of  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  been  submitted  to  the  same  stringent  discipline  as  those  at 
PentouTille,  the  gross  number  of  lunatics  among  them  would,  as  far  as  we  can  judge,  have  been  increased 
from  680  to  7,173  (for  3,546  :  22  : :  1,156,166  :  7,173). 

These  figives,  it  must  be  confesaed,  tell  awftil  tales  of  long  suffering  and  deep  mental  affliction ;  for  the 
breaking  down  of  the  weaker  minds  is  merely  eyidence  of  the  intense  moral  agony  that  must  be  suffered 
by  all  except  the  absolutely  insensible.  Nor  can  we  ourselyes,  after  such  overwhelming  proofis,  see  one 
Christian  reason  to  justify  the  discipline-— especially  when  we  add,  that  in  addition  to  there  being  upwards 
of  tenfold  more  madmen  turned  out  of  Pentonyille  prison  than  any  other  jail  in  England  and  Wales, 
no  leas  than  26  cases  of  ^^eUght  mental  affections"  or  delusions,  and  8  suicides  also  haying  occurred  there 
within  the  eight  years  above  alluded  to  I  Nor  is  this  an  iaolated  case :  Dr.  Baly,  the  Visiting  Physician  of 
Millbank,  in  his  Beport  on  Separate  Confinement,  published  in  the  year  1852,  gives  a  table  which  shows 
that  in  a  period  of  8  years  (1844-51,  both  inclusive)  there  were  65  cases  of  insanity  there,  among  an  aggre- 
gate of  7,893  prisoners;  this  is  at  the  rate  of  87*5  cases  (instead  of  the  normal  proportion  of  5*8)  to  every 
10,000  individuals.  Moreover,  in  America,  in  pursuance  of  a  law  passed  in  1821,  80  convicts  were  selected, 
and,  as  a  matter  of  experiment,  placed  in  toUtary  cells,  which  had  been  prepared  for  the  purpose,  under  the 
direction  of  the  Inspectors  of  the  State  Prison,  at  Auburn.  In  1823,  however,  about  eighteen  months  after 
the  commencement  of  the  experiment,  it  was  found  that  the  most  disastrous  results  had  followed,  etpedalfy 
ae  reffarded  MMfitty— the  greater  number  of  the  convicts  being  attacked  with  mental  disease. 

Now,  to  show  that  separate  confinement— *<  the  seclusion  of  the  separate  cell" — ^is  allowed,  even  by  the 
advocates  of  the  system,  to  **  have  tome  tendency  to  produce  insanity,  by  withdrawing  those  vicious  allevia- 
tions to  the  mind  which  are  supplied  by  the  intercourse  of  prisoners  in  association"  (these  are  the  words  of 
the  late  assistant  chaplain),  we  may  add  that  the  Bev.  Mr.  Burt  says,  in  his  ^  Results  of  Separate  Con- 
finement" (page  136),  that  "It  is  one  of  the  few  known  laws  of  mental  disease,  that  periods  of  transition  from 


•  The  sabjoined  Is  the  Table  given  by  the  Ber.  Mr.  Bart,  in  hit "  Besnlti  of  Separate  Gonfinement  at  Pentonville  :"— 
Tabue,  aho¥fmff  the  OrimmaX  Oharaeter  and  Senteneet  <^  Twenty-tnoo  Friaonen  attacked  yrith  Jneanity,  Aom  the  Opmiang  ttf  ike 
Priaon  to  the  iltt  December,  1850 ;  aleo  the  Froportume  bettceen  the  Jfumber  admitted  and  the  Nwnber  attacked  m  aaeh 
CUue  ;  dUo  the  Numbers  of  Single  and  Married  Men  admitted  and  attacked. 


Clasfles  of  Friflonere. 


Sentenoed  to  leren  jeare  andonder  ten 
„         ten  years.    ..... 

„         above  ten  years     .    •    . 

SteaUnff,  laroeny,  and  felony,  undefined 
Hoaae-breaking  and  robbery     .    •    . 
Horse,  sheep,  and  cattle  stealing  •    . 

Forgery  and  uttering • 

Rape,  and  asaault  with   intent,  Ac. 
(inolading  unnatural  crimes)     ,    . 
Stabbing  and  shooting  with  intent,  Ac. 
(cases  of  manslaughter  and  cutting 
and  wounding  being  included)   •    . 


9 
6 
8 
1 


3 

tm 


1,777 

1,263 

506 


1,744 

876 

806 

08 


71 


6*63 
6-88 


6-3 
6-9 

9-8 
10-02 

14-5 


28*2 


Classes  of  Prisoners. 


Notinclttded  in  the  above  olasaes  .    • 

Not  known  to  have  been  previous!  v  con- 
victed  

Previously  convicted 

Married. 

Single  axid  widowers 

Totals  of  all  classes    . 


'S55 


£-S 


10 
12 


4 
18 


22 


il 


A 

l|§a 


883 


1,885 
1,711 


2,583 


8,546 


5>4 
7-6 


4-1 
6*9 


6-3 


The  above  returns  are  very  useftil,  in  another  point  of  view,  as  showing  in  what  classes  of  eriminala  there  is  the  gnatest 
tendency  to  madness.  Thus  we  perceive  that  those  who  have  a  tendency  to  commit  bodily  iz^uries  are  the  nearest  to  insanity— 
those  whose  oifisnoes  are  of  a  libidinous  ohsraeter  are  the  next  in  the  scale  of  proximate  aberration— the  forgers  and  **  smaaheas* 
the  next—the  cattle-stealers  the  next— the  burglars  the  next— whereas,  of  all  criminals,  the  common  thieves  have  the  least  dis- 
position to  madness.  It  shows,  moreover,  that  the  longest  sentences  produce  the  greatest  number  of  cases  of  mental  derange, 
ment;  those  who  have  been  convicted  more  than  onee  being  more  fluently  diseased  in  mind  than  those  undergoing  their 
first  eooviotloQ. 


OP  PMSON  DISCIPLINE.  106 

one  extreme  feeling  to  its  opposite,  are  marked  as  critical  to  reason.  Men  inured  to  suffering  will  bear  misery 
without  much  danger.  It  is  the  tuddm  inroad  of  misfortune  which  either  oyerwhelms  the  mind,  or  calls 
forth  too  yiolent  an  effort  of  resistance.  That  excessive  effort  will  be  followed  by  a  prostration  of  mental 
energies,  and  dertm^MMni  taitt^  m  9om$  ca9$9y  emuSf  or  the  mind  will  be  left  in  the  power  of  slight  disturbing 
eansea  until  it  is  rallied  under  new  and  inyigorating  influences."  *'  Upon  the  mind  of  the  criminal  in  separa- 
tion, etpecialLy  upon  the  oonyict  under  sentence  of  transportation,"  Mr.  Burt  tells  us,  "there  are  three  dassea 
of  adTerse  influences  in  operation~(l.)  The  heavy  blow  of  punishment  (2.)  Excessive  demoralisation  of 
ehaiacter.  (8.)  The  yriihtirtncal  of  ihoi$  a$aoeuiiumt  tchiek  m  ordinary  life  divert  and  etutain  tke  mind.  But," 
he  adds,  ''the  disturbing  influence  of  each  one  of  these  causes  is  greatest  during  the  early  period  of  imprison- 
ment"— ^in  plain  language,  if  the  poor  wretch  do  not  go  mad  under  the  treatment  in  the  first  twelvemonths, 
then  ho  will  bear  being  caged  up  as  long  as  we  please.* 

The  prison  authorities,  however,  speak  far  more  cautiously,  and,  we  must  add,  considerately,  as  to  the 
working  of  the  separate  system,  than  the  late  Assistant-Chaplain  at  Ihe  Model  Prison ;  indeed,  the  very  fact 
of  the  period  of  oonflnement  there  having  been  changed  from  eighteen  to  nine  months  is  a  tacit  acknowledg- 
ment tibat  the  original  term  of  separation  was  more  than  ordinary  natures  could  bear  without  derange- 
ment. 

**  Beyond  twelve  months,"  says  Colonel  Jebb,  the  thoughtful  and  kind-hearted  Surveyor-General  of  Prisons, 
in  his  ILeport  for  1853,  ^  I  think  the  system  of  separate  confinement  requires  greater  care  and  watohfulneas 
than  would  perhaps  be  ensured  under  ordinary  circumstances.  And  there  are  grounds  for  believing  that  it  is 
neither  necessary  nor  desirable  so  to  extend  it" 

Again,  Mr.  Kingsmill,  the  Chaplain  of  PentonviQeySayB,  "There  seems  to  be  no  sufficient  reason  for  wish- 
mg  for  any  extension  of  separation  beyond  eighteen  months,  hU  the  reveree/'  for  the  experiment  appears  to 
him,  he  teUs  us,  fio<  to  have  succeeded,  as  regards  the  advantages  of  separate  confinement  for  longer  periods 
than  fifteen  or  eighteen  months.  **  Where  the  ties  of  kindred  are  strong,"  he  adds,  "the  galling  feeling  at 
the  loss  of  liberty  and  society  is  increased,  and  though  the  mass  are  still  patient  and  cheerfU  to  the  last,  it 
may  well  be  questioned  whether  it  be  safe  to  keep  them  longer  separated,  when  the  mind  has  ceased  to  be 
active  in  acquiring  knowledge."  To  this  Colonel  Jebb  subjoins,  "  it  is  not  the  uee  but  the  abuee  of  eeparate 
confinement  that  is  to  be  guarded  againstr-that  is,  pressing  it  beyond  the  limits  under  which  advantage  is 
derived  from  placing  a  prisoner,  under  favourable  eircumstanoes,  for  reflection  and  receiving  instruction." 
Further,  the  Surveyor-General  assures  us,  that  the  statistics  of  the  medical  officer  "  afford  convincing  proof 
that  diminishing  the  extent  of  the  imprisonment  from  what  it  had  originally  been — increasing  the  daily 
exercise — substituting  rapid  exercise  for  that  which  was  taken  in  the  separate  yards— improving  the  ventila- 
tion by  admitting  the  outer  air  direct  to  the  ceUs,  and  at  once  relaxing  the  discipline  when  any  injury  to 
health  was  apprehended — have  been  found  to  have  a  favourable  influence. 

•  «*  Cfthe  ^*  Mixed**  SyHm  ofFrieon  DieeipUne^—Tins  is  the  system  pursued  at  Millbank  Prison.  It 
eonaists  of  a  combination  of  the  silent  and  separate  modes  of  criminal  treatment — that  is  to  say,  the  men  work 
together  in  eilenee  by  day,  and  sleep  in  eeparate  cells  by  night  It  has  all  the  foults  of  the  silent  system, 
and  but  little^  if  any,  of  the  good  derivable  from  the  self-communion  and  worldly  retirement  of  the  separate 
system. 

*•  *  Cfth^"  Mark"  SyeUm  of  Prieon  DtMijpltfM.— As  this  system,  so  fkr  as  our  knowledge  goes,  forms  part 
of  the  discipline  at  no  penal  establishment  in  this  country  at  present,  it  requires  but  little  explanation  here. 
The  great  feature  of  the  mark  system,  according  to  Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon,  who  styles  it  "the  moot  compre- 
hensive and  philosophical  of  all  schemes  of  criminal  treatment  in  this  ooimtzy,"  is,  that  "  it  substitutes  labour 
aentenoes  fbr  time  sentences."  Instead  of  condemning  a  man  to  fourteen  years'  imprisonment,  Captain 
Maooooehie,  the  author  of  this  peculiar  mode  of  discipline,  would  have  him  sentenced  to  perform  a  certain 

•  Mr.  Burt,  who  Is  a  staoneb  idvoeate  for  the  npuate  sjttem,  and  that  oarrled  oat  to  Iti  foil  extreme,  eitea  the  following 
table,  in  order  to  show  that  the  majority  of  the  caaea  of  inaanltj  oocor  within  the  flrat  twelvemonths  of  the  term  of  impriaon- 
ment.  How  atrange  it  la  a  gentleman  of  bia  genenma  natnre  should  never  have  asked  bimaelf  the  qaestion  whether,  aa 
there  leerw  aoeh  a  large  number  of  oaaea  of  inaanity  oooorrlng  within  the  earlier  period  of  the  disoipllne,  the  separate  ajatem 

r— ny  JnafiWaMe  in  the  eyee  of  God  or  man. 


Tabm  eAemimfUie  Periode  at  fohieh  dU  Oaeee  of  Mental  Agketitm  haw  occmrred  at  FetOoneiUe  during  Eight  Teore^  from  the 

epenmgtfthePrieen,  on  the  82fuf  qflheember,  1843,  to  the  Slst  ^Deeetnber,  1600. 

^  From  Twelve     From  Eighteen 

Descrip^of       SixMontha,  ^omSixto         to  Eighteen  Months  to        TotaU 

Mental  AflbcHon.     aadimder.    Twelve  Months,         Montba.  TwoTeara. 

Inaanity   ...  14  ft  8  0  SS 

Deluaiona.    .    .  18  9  S  S  86 

BukldBa    ...  8  1  0  0  8 

Total    .29  18  1  ^  M 


106 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


quantity  of  labour — ^the  labour  being  xepreaented  by  <<  marks"  instead  of  money— whenoe  the  name  of  the 
system.  The  whole  of  this  labour,  we  are  told,  the  oonyict  would  be  bound  to  perform  before  he  oould  regain 
hia  freedom,  whether  he  chose  to  occupy  one  year  or  twenty  years  about  it. 

The  adyantages  of  this  mode  of  prison  discipline,  its  advocates  ayer,  axe,  that  it  places  the  criminal's  fata» 
to  some  extent,  in  his  own  power.  Labour  punishment,  they  say,  giyea  a  oonviot  the  feeling  of  personal 
responsibiLity,  which  the  present  mode  of  punishment  robs  him  oL  The  man  serving  a  fixed  period  has 
no  object  but  to  kill  the  time.  An  absolute  disregard  of  the  value  of  time  is  thus  begotten  in  the  mind  of  the 
convict— time  becoming  associated  with  the  idea  of  suffering  and  restraint.  The  time  sentence  puts  the 
offender  under  restraint  for  a  tdhn,  but  does  not  force  him  to  do  anything  to  make  any  active  reparation  to 
society  for  the  crime,  and  it  takes  away^all  stimulus  to  exertion  on  the  part  of  the  criminal,  who  knows  that, 
"  idle  or  industrious,  dissolute  or  orderly,  he  must  still  serve  out  an  inexorable  number  of  weeks  and  years. 
The  labour  sentence,  on  the  other  hand,  induces  a  habit  of  hard  work,  and  the  habit  which  is  thus  made  to 
earn  for  the  man  his  liberty  will  afterwards  become  the  means  of  preserving  it." 

As  yet  this  system  has  been  tried  only  in  Norfolk  Island— where,  it  is  alleged,  no  oonodvable  system 
would  or  could  work  well— amongst  transported  transports,  the  most  self-abandoned  human  beings,  perhaps^ 
on  the  earth's  surface.    But  <*  even  there,"  adds  Mr.  Dixon,  **  it  did  not  faiL" 


*»*  Conekuion. — Such,  then,  are  the  leveral  modes  of  discipline  that  at  present  make  iq^  the  scienoe 
of  what  is  termed  *^pwoloffy" 

Now  the  objects  of  all  penal  inflictions  and  treatment  are,  of  course,  twofoldr-punishment  and  reforms- 
tion ;  the  one  instituted  not  only  as  a  penance  for  a  particular  oifence,  but  as  the  means  of  deterring  future 
offenders ;  and  the  other  sought  after  with  the  view  of  correcting  the  habits  of  the  present  offenders. 

Hence  we  are  enabled  to  put  the  several  forma  of  criminal  treatment  pursued  in  this  country  to  s  prae- 
tioal  test ;  for  if  our  methods  of  penal  discipline  are  realfy  deterring  future  offenders  and  reforming  present 
ones,  we  ought  to  be  able  to  show  the  result  in  figures,  and  to  point  to  the  criminal  statistics  aa  a  proof  that 
we  are  reducing  crime  among  us  by  the  regimen  of  our  jails.  The  subjoined  tahls  will  enaUs  us  to  see 
if  such  be  the  case : — 

NUXBBS  OF  aanCINALB  IN  VJXaUkXD  AND  WAL18  DV&Hra  THS  POLLOWIKG  TELBB  I — 


1834 
1835 
1836 
1837 
1838 

1839 
1840 
1841 
1842 
1843 


22,451 

1844 

20,731 

1845 

20,984 

1846 

23,612 

1847 

23,094 

1848 

110,872 

24,443 

1849 

27,187 

1850 

27,760 

1851 

81,309 

1852 

29,591 

1853 

140,290 

251,162 

26,542 
24,303 
25,107 
28,833 
30,349 

27,816 
26,818 
27,960 
27,510 
27,057 


135,134 


Increase  in  crime  between  first  and  last  year 

Increase  between  the  first  and  last  ten  years  .       . 

Increase  in  population  of  Tingland  and  Wales  firom  1841—51 


137,156 

272,290 

20-5  per  cent. 
80 
12*6 


Absolutely  considered,  then,  we  find  that,  despite  the  spread  of  education  among  us,  and  increase  of 
churches  and  chapels,  together  with  the  greater  activity  of  the  ministry  of  all  denominations,  and  the  rapid 
development  of  benevolent  and  religious  societies,  including  **Home  Missions"  and  ''Reformatories" — despite 
all  these  appliances,  we  say,  the  crime  of  the  country  has  increased  no  less  than  ttcmty  per  cent  within  the 
last  twenty  years ;  whilst  considered  relatively  to  the  increase  of  the  population,  we  find  that  it  has  decreased 
only  to  the  extent  of  four  per  cent  in  ten  yean.  Hence,  if  we  take  into  consideration  the  vast  txUmal 
machinery  for  improving  the  morals  and  instructing  the  minds  of  the  people  in  the  present  day,  we  shall  see 
good  reason  to  conclude  that  the  iiUemal  economy  of  our  prisons  has  made  but  small  impression  upon  the 
great  body  of  criminals. 

Nevertheless  this  is  hardly  a  precise  mode  of  testing  the  value  of  the  several  forms  of  penal  discipline  at 
present  in  vog^ue,  as  the  greater  proportion  of  the  offenders  included  in  the  totals  above  specified  may  be 
regarded  as  being,  so  to  speak,  young  in  crime,  and  as  never  having  been  in  prison  before,  so  that  the  treat- 
ment  pursued  within  the  jails  could  not  directly  have  affwted  thenu 


OF  PBISON  DISCIPLINE. 


107 


The  number  of  tlie  fvoommittalB,  howeyer,  may  be  cited  as  podtiye  proof  upon  the  matter ;  and  hence  the 
fianofwing  table,  copied  firom  the  Fifth  Beport  of  the  Inspectors  of  Prisons  for  the  Home  District,  becomes  the 
most  oondenmatory  eridence  as  regards  the  inefficacy  of  our  treatment  of  criminal  offenders :— - 


Per  Gentofre  of  Beoommittato 
to  Committals. 

29-9 

30*6 

32-4 

33-4 

32-8 

31-3 

29-9 

30-7 

0*8  per  cent. 


1842 
1843 
1844 
1846 
1846 
1847 
1848 
1849 


XNOXiAMD  AND  WALES. 

Total  of  Orimioal                              Total  of 

Oommittala.                               Beoommittab. 

112,927        .                 .        63,862 

112.762 

34,383 

107,248 

84,731 

99,049 

33,113 

98,984 

32,468 

106,041 

32,926 

124,342 

87,226 

129,697 

39,826 

Increase  of  recommittals  between  first  and  last  year  • 


Thna  we  discoTer  how  utterly  abortiye  are  all  our  modes  of  penal  discipline,  since  the  old  <*  jail-birds,*'  so 
fior  from  being  either  reformed  or  deterred  from  future  offences,  are  here  shown  continually  to  return  to  the 
priflooa  throughout  the  country.  Moreoyer,  of  the  number  of  criminals  who  are  recommitted  in  the  course 
of  the  year,  many  haye  appeared  more  than  once  before  in  the  jails ;  and  the  Beport  from  which  the  aboye 
taUe  has  been  extracted  has  another  table  whereby  we  find  tiiat — ^though  in  1842  there  was  no  less  than 
0  per  cent,  of  criminal  offenders  who  had  been  recommitted  four  times  and  more— neyerthelesB  the  per  centage 
of  ikat  daas  of  inyeterate  criminals  had  risen  as  high  as  7*7  in  1849. 

There  must,  then,  be  some  gprayo  and  serious  errors  in  our  present  penal  system,  since  it  is  plain  from  the 
mboTe  &etB  that  our  treatment  of  criminals  neither  deters  nor  reforms. 

Let  us  endeayour,  therefore,  to  detect  where  the  errors  Ue. 

Now,  it  appears  to  us — and  we  speak  with  all  humility  upon  the  subject — ^that  the  first  substantial 
objection  against  the  prison  discipU^  of  the  present  day  is,  that  our  silent  systems  and  separate  systems  are 
as  much  in  exir&mu  as  was  the  old  plan  of  allowing  indiscriminate  intercourse  to  take  place  among  all  nlasses 
of  prisoners.  Society,  some  years  ago,  opened  its  eyes  and  discoyered  that  to  permit  the  young  offender  to 
avociBte  and  oonunune  with  the  old,  and  the  comparatiyely  innocent  with  the  inyeterately  deprayed,  was  to 
oonyert  the  jail  into  an  academy  for  inexperienced  criminals,  where  they  might  receiye  the  best  possible 
tuition  in  yioe.  Therefore,  in  the  suddenness  of  our  indignation  at  the  short-comings  of  such  a  method  of 
dealing  with  the  inmates  of  our  jails,  we  rushed  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  declared  that  because  the 
liberty  of  speech  among  such  people  was  found  to  be  fraught  with  eyil,  they  should  henceforth  not  speak  at 
aU ;  and  because  it  was  dangerous  to  allow  them  to  associate,  they  should  for  the  future  be  cut  off  from  all 
society,  and  caged,  like  animals  in  a  menagerie,  each  in  separate  dens. 

A  loye  of  extremes^  howeyer,  belongs  to  the  fanatical  rather  than  the  rational  mind,  and  perhaps  the 
wont  form  of  all  bigotry  is  that  of  disciplinarians  who  inyariably  sacrifice  conunon  sense  to  some  loye  of 


Burely  all  that  is  necessary,  in  order  to  check  the  eyils  of  unrestricted  intercourse  among  criminals, 
u  to  preyent  them  talking  upon  vieiout  subjects  one  to  the  other.  To  go  fivther  than  this,  and  stop  all  com- 
mnnioin  among  them,  is  not  only  absurd  as  oyerreaching  the  end  in  yiew,  but  positiyely  wicked  as  ignoring 
the  highest  gift  of  the  Almighty  to  man— that  wondrous  Acuity  of  speech,  which  some  philosophers  haye 
held  to  be  more  distinctiye  of  human  nature  than  eyen  reason  itself. 

Koreoyer,  by  oyentepping  what  Shakspeare  beautifully  terms  ''the  nurtUtty  of  nature,*  we  force  the  poor 
wntehes,  whose  tongues  we  figuratiyely  cut  out,  into  all  Idnds  of  cheats  and  low  cunning,  in  order  to  gratify 
what,  if  rightly  used,  is  not  only  a  hannless  but  a  noble  impulse.  It  seems,  therefore,  that  the  entire  object 
which  the  silent  system  has  in  yiew  would  be  attained  by  placing  an  intelligent  officer  to  watch  oyer  a 
certain  number  of  prisoners,  and  whose  duty  it  should  be  not  only  to  restrain  them  from  conyersing  upon 
yidons  subjects,  but  to  reed  to  them,  while  they  were  at  work,  from  interesting  and  high-minded  books,  as 
wen  as  to  lead  the  discourse  at  other  times  into  innocent  and  eleyated  channels.  Nor  shoiild  this  officer  be  one 
who  would  be  likely  to  *^hor&"  the  people  with  prosy  yiews  and  explanations  upon  matters  of  philosophy  or 
religion.  We  haye  sufficient  frith  in  goodness  to  belieye  that  he  is  but  a  poor  disciple  of  the  Great  Teacher, 
who  cannot  make  that  which  possesses  the  highest  beauty  a  matter  of  the  highest  attraction,  eyen  to  the 
lofvost  minds— who  cannot  speak  of  the  wonders  of  creation  or  of  the  loying-kindness  of  Ohrist  without  being 
as  don  as  a  religious  tract,  or  as  dry  as  a  lecturer  at  a  mechanic's  institution.  We  would  haye  it  roceiyed  as 
a  rule,  that  inattention  on  the  part  of  the  prisoners  was  a  sign  of  inability  on  the  part  of  the  officer,  or  the 
authors  selected  by  him,  to  discourse  pleasantly — ^to  clothe  interesting  subjects  in  an  interesting  form ;  and, 
indeed,  that  it  arose  from  a  fault  in  the  teacher  (or  the  books)  rather  than  the  scholars,  so  that  instead  of 


108  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LOITDON. 

blaming  the  latter,  tlie  former  should  be  dismissed  from  his  office — even  as  the  dramatist  is  hissed  as  an  inca- 
pable from  the  stage,  when  he  is  found  to  lack  the  power  to  rivet  the  attention  of  his  audience. 

By  such  an  arrangement,  it  is  obvious  that  all  necessity  for  imprisoning  the  criminals  in  separate  cells 
would  be  at  end.  Hence  all  dangers  of  insanity  would  cease,  and  the  mind  and  conscience  rather  be  brought 
to  their  proper  masteiy  over  the  passions  and  desires,  than  deprived  of  all  power  by  long-continued  de- 
pression. 

But  one  of  the  main  evils  of  the  present  systems  of  penal  discipline  is,  that  they  one  and  all  make  labour  a 
puniahmmt  to  the  criminal.  This,  in  fact,  is  the  great  stumbling-block  to  reformation  among  the  class. 
The  only  true  definition  of  crime,  so  far  as  regards  the  predatory  phase  of  it,  that  we  have  seen,  is  that  laid 
down  in  the  Eeport  of  the  Constabulary  Oommissioners,  and  which  involves  neither  an  educational  nor  a 
teetotal  view,  but  simply  a  matter-of-fact  consideration  of  the  subject,  asserting  that  such  crime  is  '*  mniN^ 
ihs  deiire  to  acquire  property  with  a  leu  degrs$  of  labour  than  by  crdmary-mduMtry;**  in  a  word,  that  it  arises 
from  an  indisposition  to  work  for  a  livelihood. 

Now  that  this  expresses  the  bare  truth,  and  is  the  only  plain  practical  explanation  to  be  given  of  the 
subject,  none  can  doubt  who  have  paid  the  least  attention  to  the  criminal  character ;  for  not  only  is  the 
greater  proportion  of  those  who  aro  of  predatory  habits  likewise  of  a  vagabond  disposition  (out  of  16,000 
Buoh  characters  known  to  the  police,  upwards  of  10,000  were  retomed  in  the  same  Eeport  as  being  of 
migratory  habits),  but  this  same  wandering  naturo  appertains  to  their  minds  as  well  as  their  bodies ;  for  so 
erratic  aro  criminals  both  in  thought  and  action,  that  it  is  eztromely  difficult  to  fix  their  attention  for  any 
length  of  time  to  one  subject,  or  to  get  them  to  pursue  any  settled  occupation  in  life.  Henoe  labour 
becomes  extremely  irksome  to  them,  and  (as  the  mind  mmi  busy  itself  about  somethid|:)  amusement  grows 
as  attractive  as  regular  work  is  repulsive  to  their  natures.  Legislators  seem  to  have  taken  this  view  of 
the  question,  and  to  have  sentenced  such  people  to  imprisonment  with  hard  labour,  simply  because  they 
believed  that  work  was  the  severest  punishment  they  could  inflict  upon  them.  Bat  pit nishments,  especially 
those  which  aro  begotten  in  the  fuiy  of  our  indignation  for  certain  offences,  aro  not  always  romaricable  finr 
iheir  wisdom;  since  to  sentence  a  criminal  to  a  term  of  hard  labour  because  he  has  an  aversion  to  work,  is 
about  as  rational  as  it  would  be  to  punish  a  child  who  objected  to  jalap,  by  condemning  it  to  a  six  months' 
course  of  it.  ^ 

So  fir,  indeed,  from  such  a  sentence  serving  to  eradicate  the  antipathy  of  the  criminal  to  industrious 
pursuits,  it  tends  rather  to  confirm  him  in  his  prejudice  against  regular  labour.  *<  Well,"  says  the  pick- 
pocket to  himself,  on  leaving  prison,  <*  I  always  thought  working  for  one's  living  was  by  no  means  pleasant ; 
and  after  the  dose  I  have  just  had,  I'm  blest  if  I  a'n't  eonvineed  of  it." 

The  defect  of  such  penal  discipline  becomes  obvious  to  all  minds  when  thus  plainly  set  beforo  them ; 
for  is  it  not  manifest  that,  if  we  wish  to  inculcate  habits  of  industry  in  criminals,  we  should  strive  to  make 
labour  a  delight  rather  than  use  it  as  a  scourge  to  them  } 

Now  the  groat  Author  of  our  natiros  has  ordained,  that,  though  labour  be  a  curse,  there  should  be 
certain  modes  by  which  it  may  be  rondered  agreeable  to  us,  and  these  are — (1)  by  variety  or  change  of 
occupation ;  (2)  by  the  inculcation  of  industrial  habits ;  (3)  by  association  with  some  purpose  or  object 

The  first  of  these  modes  by  which  work  is  made  pleasant  is  the  natural  or  primitive  one.  Every  person 
is  awaro  how  the  mere  transition  from  one  employment  to  another  seems  to  inspiro  him  with  fr^eah  energy, 
for  monotony  of  all  kinds  fajigues  and  distresses  tiie  mind ;  and  as  active  attention  to  any  matter  requires  a 
continuous  mental  effort  in  order  to  sustain  it,  therefore  those  natiires  which  aro  moro  erratic  and  volatile 
than  others  become  the  sooner  tired,  and  consequently  less  able  to  support  the  sameness  of  a  etUkd 
occupation. 

The  second  mode  of  rendering  labour  agreeable  consists  in  the  wonderful  educational  power  of  that 
mysterious  principle  of  habit  by  which  any  mental  or  muscular  operation,  however  irksome  at  first,  comes, 
by  rogular  and  frequent  ropetition,  to  be  not  only  pleasant  to  perform,  but  after  a  time  positively  unpleasant 
for  us  to  abstain  from. 

The  third  and  last  method  of  making  industry  delightfal  to  us  is,  however,  by  fkr  the  most  efficaciouf, 
for  we  have  but  to  inspiro  a  person  with  some  specisl  purpose,  to  make  his  muscles  move  nimbly,  and  agree- 
ably too.  It  is  the  presence  of  some  such  purpose  that  sets  the  moro  honest  portion  of  the  world  working 
fbr  the  food  of  themselves  and  their  fSeunilies ;  and  it  is  precisely  because  your  true  predatory  and  migratory 
criminal  is  purpoeeleee  and  obfeetleee,  that  he  wanders  through  the  country  without  any  settled  aim  or  end, 
now  turning  this  way,  now  that,  according  to  the  mero  impulse  of  the  moment.  Nor  is  it  possible  that  he 
should  be  other  than  a  criminal,  the  slave  of  his  brute  passions  and  propensities^  loving  liberty  and  hating 
control,  and  pursuing  a  roving  rather  than  a  settled  life,  until  some  honourable  motive  can  be  excited  in 
his  bosom. 

If  therefore,  we  conclude,  society  seeks,  by  any  system  of  penal  discipline,  to  change  criminals  into 
honest  men,  it  can  do  so  only  and  eeeurely  by  worldng  in  conformity,  rather  than  in  opposition,  to  those 
laws  which  the  Almighty  has  impressed  upon  all  men's  being ;  and  consequently  it  must  abandon  all  systems 
of  silence  and  isolation  as  utterly  incompatible  with  the  very  foundation  of  social  eoonomy.    It  must 


8EPABATE  CELL  IK  PENTOHVILLE  PBISON. 


OF  PEI80N  DISCIPLINE.  Ill 

also  giTe  up  every  notion  of  making  labour  a  punishment,  and  seek  to  render  it  a  pleasure  to  one  vliu  is 
merelj  &  criminal  because  he  has  an  inordinate  ayersion  to  work.  The  <*  mark"  system  attains  the  latter  object, 
by  making  labour  the  means  of  liberation  to  the  prisoner ;  but  this  motive  lasts  only  so  long  as  the  term  of 
impriaonment,  for  there  is  no  reason  to  belieye  that  vhen  the  liberty  is  attained  the  prisoner  will  continue 
labouring  btffond  that  period.  What  is  wanted  is  to  excite  in  the  mind  of  the  prisoner  some  object  to  work 
for,  which  irill  endure  through  life.  No  man  laboun  for  nothing,  nor  can  we  expect  criminals  to  do  so. 
Industry  is  pursued  by  all,  either  for  the  lore  of  what  it  bringa— money,  honour,  or  powev^-or  else  fur  the 
lore  of  the  woik  itself;  and  if  we  desire  to  make  criminal  offimders  exert  themselres  like  the  rest  of  the 
worid,  we  must  conyinoe  them  that  they  can  obtain  as  good  a  living,  and  a  fyx  more  honourable  and  pleasant 
one,  by  honest  than  dishonest  pursuits. 

Still,  some  good  people  will  doubtlessly  urge  against  the  above  strictnrss  on  penal  discipline,  that  no 
mention  is  made  of  that  religious  element  from  which  all  true  changes  of  nature  must  spring.  The  Rev. 
If  r.  KingsmiU  has  put  this  part  of  the  subject  so  simply  and  forcibly  before  the  mind,  that  it  would  be 
onfiur  to  SBfih  as  profess  the  same  opinions  not  to  cite  the  remarks  here. 

**  Ko  human  punishment,"  says  tiie  Chaplain  of  Pentonville  Prison,  '*  has  wfpr  refdrmed  a  man  from  habits 
of  theft  to  a  life  of  honesty— of  vice  to  virtue ;  nor  can  any  mode  of  treating  prisoners,  as  yet  thought  of, 
however  specious,  accomplish  anything  of  the  kind.  Good  principle  and  good  qtotives  are  the  sad  wants  of 
criminals.  God  alone  can  giye  these  by  his  Spirit ;  and  the  appointed  moMM  for  this,  primarily,  is  the 
tfchiiig  of  his  word.  *  Wherewithal  shsdl  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way,  even  by  taking  heed  thereto  accord- 
ing to  thy  word.' "  di'ow  in  answer  to  this,  we  say  that  it  is  admitted  by  every  one  that  these  same  conver- 
sions are  mwtKlm  wrought  by  the  grace  of  God ;  and  we  do  not  hesitate  to  declare  our  opinion  that  it  is  not 
wise,  nor  is  it  even  religious  (betraying  as  it  does  an  utter  inftdulity  in  thoso  natUFil  Uws  which  are  as  much 
instilntions  of  Uie  Almighty  as  even  the  scriptural  commandments  themselves),  to  frame  schemes  for  the  refor- 
niatioiB  of  criminals  which  depend  upon  miraculous  interferences  for  their  success.  Almost  as  rational,  indeed, 
would  it  be  to  return  to  the  superstition  of  the  dark  ages ;  and,  because  divine  goodness  has  oeeationatty  healed 
the  aick  in  a  marveUons  and  supernatural  manner,  therefore  to  go  forth  with  the  priest,  in  case  of  any  bodily 
afliction,  and  pray  at  some  holy  shrine,  rather  than  seek  the  aid  of  the  physician  who,  by  continual  study  of 
God's  sanitary  laws,  is  enabled  to  restore  to  us  the  health  we  have  lost  through  some  blind  breach  of  His 
WiU  in  that  respect  To  put  faith  in  the  enpematural,  and  to  trust  to  that  for  our  guide  in  natttral  things,  is 
simply  what  is  termed  **  superstition/*  and  surely  the  enlightened  philosophy  of  the  present  day  should  teach 
us  that,  in  acting  conformably  with  natural  laws,  we  are  following  out  God's  decrees  far  more  reverently 
than  by  reasoning  upon  supernatural  phenomena ;  since  what  is  beyond  nature  is  beyond  reason  also,  and 
hes  no  more  right  to  enter  into  the  social  matter  of  prison  discipline,  than  the  feeding  of  people  with  manna 
in  the  wilderness  should  form  (instead  of  the  ordinary  laws  of  ploughing,  manuring,  and  sowing)  a  part  of 
agricultural  economy. 

If  oreover,  we  deny  that  the  majority  of  individuals  who  abstain  from,  thieving  are  led  to  prefer  honest  to 
dishonest  practices  from  purely  religious  motives.  Can  it  be  said  that  the  merchant  in  the  city  honours  his 
bOls  for  the  love  of  God  ?  Is  it  not  rather  to  uphold  his  worldly  credit  ?  Bo  you,  gentle  reader,  when  you 
pay  yaur  accounts,  hand  the  money  over  to  your  tradesman  because  the  Almighty  has  cleansed  your  heart 
from  original  sin  i  and  would  eyen  the  jail  A^aplain  himself  continue  to  labour  in  his  yocation,  if  there  were 
no  salary  in  connection  with  the  office  ? 

I(  then,  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  in  every  thousand  of  ordinaiy  men  abstain  from  picking  pockets, 
not  becanse  the  Holy  Ghost  has  entered  their  bosoms,  but  from  prudential,  or,  if  you  will,  honourable  motives 
—if  it  be  tme  tiiat  tiie  great  mass  of  people  are  induced  to  work  for  their  living  mainly,  if  not  solely,  to  got 
moB«y  rathar  than  serve  God— then  it  is  worse  than  foolish  to  strive  to  give  any  such  canting  motives  to 
criminals,  and  certainly  not  true,  when  it  is  asserted  that  people  cannot  be  made  honest  by  any  other  means 
than  by  special  interpositionB  of  Providence.  If  the  man  who  lives  by  *'  twisting,"  as  it  is  called— that  is  to 
say,  by  passing  pewter  half-crowns  in  lieu  of  silver  ones — can  make  hii  Ave  pounds  a  week,  and  be  quit  of 
bodily  labour,  when  he  could  not  earn,  perhaps,  a  pound  a  week  by  honest  industry — ^if  the  Iiondon  '<  buaman  ** 
(swell  mobsman)  can  keep  his  pony  by  abstracting  "  skins  "  (purses)  from  gentlemen's  pockets,  when,  per- 
haps^ he  could  hardly  get  a  pair  of  decent  shoes  to  his  feet  as  a  lawyer's  clerk— do  you  believe  that  any 
pceaching  from  the  pulpit  will  be  likely  to  induce  such  as  these  to  adopt  a  form  of  life  which  has  far  more 
labour  and  far  less  gains  connected  wiUi  it  ? 

We  do  not  intend  to  deny  that  supernatural  conversions  of  men  finom  wickedness  to  righteousness 
sowiSMWflffy  take  place ;  but,  say  we,  these  are  the  exceptions  rather  than  the  rule  of  life,  and  the  great 
mass  of  mankind  is  led  to  pursue  an  upright  course,  simply  because  they  find  that  there  is  associated  with  it  a 
greater  amount  of  happinoas  and  comfort,  both  to  theuMelvcs  and  those  who  are  near  and  dear  to  them,  than 
with  the  opposite  praetioe.  To  torn  the  criminal,  therefore,  to  the  righteous  path,  we  must  be  prepared  to 
show  him  that  aa  honest  life  is  calculated  to  yield  to  himself  and  his  relatiyes  more  real  pleasure  than  a 
didieoeat  cue;  and  so  long  as  we  seek  by  our  present  mode  of  prison  discipline  to  make  saints  of  thieves, 
joat  so  long  shaU  we  continue  to  produce  a  thousand  canting  hypocrites  to  one  real  convert. 

8' 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOHDON. 


U  i. 
PESTONVILLB  PSISOlf. 

Half-way  along  that  extreme  nortbem  thoroogh&re  which  mns  almost  panllel  with  the 
Thames,  and  which,  nnder  the  name  of  the  New  Boad,  atretehee  from  tie  "  Yohxseikk 
Smiao,"  by  Fuddington,  t«  that  great  metropolitan  anomaly  the  city  taxnpike,  there  atands 
an  obeliakine  lamp-poat  in  the  centre  of  the  roadway.  This  spot  is  now  biown  as  "  Einc'a 
Crosa,"  in  commemoration  of  a  rude  stucco  atatue  of  George  the  Fourth,  that  was  oaoe 
erected  here  by  an  artistic  bricklayer,  and  had  a  email  police  atation  in  its  pedestal,  hot 
which  has  long  since  been  broken  up  and  used  to  mend  the  highway  that  it  fonnerly 
encnmbered. 

Here  is  seen  the  tennimis  of  the  Great  Northern  Railway,  with  ila  brace  of  huge  glaM 
archways,  looking  like  a  crystal  imitation  of  the  Thames  Tunnel ;  here,  too,  are  found  giant 
pnblio-honeee,  with  "double  frontage,"  or  doors  before  and  behind;  and  would-be  grand 
architectural  depots  for  quack  medicines;  and  enormous  "  cryatal-palace"  slop-shops,  with 
the  front  walls  converted  into  one  broad  and  high  window,  where  the  "Oxonian  ooats," 
and  "Talma  capes,"  and  "  Sydenham  trousers,"  and  "  Fancy  Teste,"  ara  piled  up  sereral 
storeys  high,  while  the  doorway  is  set  round  with  spntcdy-dreseed  "  dummies"  of  young 
gentlemen  that  have  their  glorwl  fingers  spread  out  like  bnnches  of  radishea,  and  images  of 
grinning  eountrymen  in  "  widc-awakea,"  and  red  plush  waistcoats. 

This  same  King's  Cross  is  the  Seven  Dials  of  the  New  Koad,  wh^ce  a  series  of  streets 


PENTONTILLE  PMSON.  113 

direrge  like  spokes  i^m  the  nave  of  a  wheel ;  and  there  is  almost  always  the  same  crowd  of 
''cads"  and  "do-nothings"  loitering  about  the  public-houses  in  this  quarter,  and  waiting 
either  for  a  job  or  a  share  of  a  gratuitous  **  quartern  and  three  outs." 

Proceeding  hence  by  the  roadway  that  radiates  in  a  north-easterly  direction^  we  cross  the 
Tault-like  bridge  that  spans  the  Eegent's  Ganaly  whose  banks  here  bristle  with  a  crowd  of 
tall  factory  chimneys;  and  then,  after  passing  a  series  of  newly-built  "genteel"  suburban 
''  terraces,"  the  houses  of  which  haye  each  a  little  strip  of  garden,  or  rather  grass-plot,  in 
front  of  them,  we  see  the  viaduct  of  the  railway  stretching  across  the  road,  high  above  the 
pavement,  and  the  tall  signal  posts,  with  their  telegraphic  arms,  piercing  the  air.  Imme- 
diately beyond  this  we  behold  a  large  new  building  walled  all  round,  with  a  long  series  of 
mad-honse-like  windows,  showing  above  the  taU  bricken  boundary.  In  fix>nt  of  this,  upon 
the  raised  bank  beside  the  roadway,  stands  a  remarkable  portx^uUis-like  gateway,  jutting, 
Hke  a  huge  square  porch  or  palatial  archway,  from  the  main  entrance  of  the  building,  and 
with  a  little  square  dock-tower  just  peeping  up  behind  it. 

This  is  Pentonville  Prison,  vulgarly  known  as  "the  Model,"  and  situate  in  the  Caledonian 
Beady  that  stretches  from  Bagnigge  Wells  to  HoUoway, 


f  i- 
I%e  History  and  Arohitectwdl  DetaiU  of  the  Prison. 

Before  entering  the  prison,  let  us  gather  all  we  can  concerning  the  history  and  character 
of  the  building. 

It  is  a  somewhat  curious  coincidence,  that  the  system  of  separate  confinement  which 
the  Model  Prison  at  Pentonville  was  built  to  carry  out,  was  originally  commenced  at  the 
House  of  Correction,  at  Gloucester,  under  the  auspices  of  (among  others)  Sir  George 
OnesiphoroB  Paul,  the  relative  of  one  who  is  at  present  suffering  imprisonment  within 
ita  walls. 

This  system  of  penal  discipline  was  originally  advocated  by  Sir  William  Blackstone 
and  the  great  prison  reformer,  Howard ;  and  though  it  was  made  the  subject  of  an  Act  of 
Parliament  in  1778,  it  was  not  put  in  practice  till  some  few  years  afterwards,  and  even  then 
the  experiment  at  Gloucester  "  was  not  prosecuted,"  says  the  Government  Beports,  "  so  as  to 
lead  to  any  definite  result." 

The  subject  of  separate  confinement,  however,  was  afterwards  warmly  taken  up  at 
Plniadelphia ;  "and  the  late  Mr.  Crawford,"  we  are  told,  "  was  sent  to  America,  in  1834, 
to  examine  into  and  report  his  opinion  upon  the  mode  of  penal  discipline  as  there  esta- 
blished." 

On  the  presentation  to  Parliament  of  the  very  able  papers  drawn  up  by  Mr.  Crawford 
and  Mr.  Whitworth  Bussell,  the  Inspectors  of  the  Prisons  for  the  Home  District,  the 
sobject  came  to  be  much  discussed;  and,  in  1837,  Lord  John  Bussell,  then  Secretary  of  State 
for  Uie  Home  Department,  issued  a  circular  to  the  magistracy,  recommending  the  separate 
system  of  penal  discipline  to  their  consideration. 

Shortly  after  this  it  was  determined  to  erect  Pentonville  Prison,  as  a  preliminary  step,  for 
the  purpose  of  practically  testing  this  "  separate"  method  of  penal  treatment,  and  the  name 
originally  applied  to  it  was  "  the  Model  Prison,  on  the  separate  system,"  it  being  proposed 
to  apply  the  plan,  if  successM,  to  the  several  jails  throughout  the  kingdom. 

The  building  was  commenced  on  the  10th  of  April,  1840,  and  completed  in  1842,  at  a 
ooflt  of  about  £85,000,  after  plans  furnished  by  Lieut.-Col.  Jebb,  B.E.  It  was  first  occupied 
in  December  of  the  latter  year,  and  was  appropriated,  by  direction  of  Sir  James  Graham,  the 
Home  Secretary  at  that  period,  to  the  reception  of  a  sdseted  body  of  convicts^  who  were 


114  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

thero  to  xmdergo  a  term  of  probationary  discipline  pi^viooB  to  their  transportation  to  the 
colonies.  Indeed,  the  letter  which  Sir  James  Graham  addressed  to  the  Commissioners  who 
had  been  appointed  to  superintend  the  penal  experiment,  is  so  admirably  illnstratiye  of  the 
objects  aimed  at  in  the  institution  of  the  prison  atPentonville,  that  we  cannot  do  better  than 
repeat  it  here. 

''Considering  the  excessive  supply  of  labour  in  this  country/'  says  Sir  James,  ''its 
consequent  depreciation,  and  the  fastidious  rejection  of  all  those  whose  character  is  tainted, 
I  wish  to  admit  no  prisoner  into  Pentonville  who  is  not  sentenced  to  transportation,  and 
who  is  not  doomed  to  be  transported ;  for  the  convict  on  whom  such  discipline  might  produce 
the  most  salutary  effect  wotdd,  when  liberated  and  thrown  back  on  society  in  this  country, 
be  still  branded  as  a  criminal,  and  hare  but  an  indifferent  chance  of  a  Hreliliood  from  the 

profitable  exercise  of  honest  industry I  propose,  therefore,  that  no  prisoner  shall 

be  admitted  into  Pentonville  without  the  knowledge  that  it  is  the  portal  to  the  penal  colony, 
and  without  the  certainty  that  he  bids  adieu  to  his  connections  in  England,  and  that  he 
must  henceforth  look  forward  to  a  life  of  labour  in  another  hemisphere. 

''  But  fix>m  the  day  of  his  entrance  into  prison,  while  I  extinguish  the  hope  of  return  to 
his  family  and  friends,  I  would  open  to  him,  fuUy  and  distinctiy,  the  fate  which  awaits  him, 
and  the  degree  of  influence  which  his  own  conduct  will  infallibly  have  over  lus  ftiture 
fortunes. 

''  He  should  be  made  to  feel  that  from  that  day  ho  enters  on  a  new  career.  He  should 
be  told  that  his  imprisonment  is  a  period  of  probation ;  that  it  will  not  be  prolonged  above 
eighteen  months ;  that  an  opportunity  of  learning  those  arts  which  will  enable  him  to  earn 
his  bread  will  be  afforded  under  the  best  instructors ;  that  moral  and  religious  knowledge 
wiU  be  imparted  to  him  as  a  guide  to  his  future  life ;  that  at  the  end  of  eighteen  montha» 
when  a  just  estimate  can  be  formed  of  the  effect  produced  by  the  discipline  on  his  character, 
he  will  be  sent  to  Van  Biemcn's  Land ;  there,  if  he  behave  well,  at  once  to  receive  a  ticket- 
of-leave,  which  is  equivalent  to  fr'eedom,  with  a  certainty  of  abundant  maintenance — the 
fruit  of  industry. 

"  If,  however,  he  behave  indifferentiy,  he  will,  on  being  transported  to  Van  Diemen's 
Land,  receive  a  probationary  pass,  which  will  secure  to  him  only  a  limited  portion  of  his 
earnings,  and  impose  certaiu  galling  restraints  on  his  personal  liberty. 

''If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  behave  ill,  and  the  discipline  of  the  prison  be  ineffectual,  he 
will  be  transported  to  Tasman's  Peninsula,  there  to  work  in  a  probationary  gang,  without 
wages,  and  deprived  of  liberty — an  abject  convict." 

Now,  for  the  due  carrying  out  of  tiiese  objects,  a  Board  of  Commissioners  was  appointed, 
among  whom  were  two  medical  gentiemen  of  the  highest  reputation  in  their  profession,  and 
whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  narrowly  ihe  effect  of  the  system  upon  the  health  oi  the 
prisoners. 

"  Eighteen  months  of  the  discipline,''  said  Sir  James  Graham,  in  hia  letter  to  these 
gentiemen,  "  appear  to  me  to  be  ample  for  its  fiill  application.  In  that  time  the  real 
character  will  be  developed,  instruction  will  be  imparted,  new  habits  will  be  formed^  a  better 
frame  of  mind  will  have  been  moulded,  or  else  the  heart  will  have  been  hardened,  and  the 
case  be  desperate.  Tho  period  of  imprisonment  at  Pentonville,  therefore,"  he  adds,  "  wiU 
be  strictiy  limited  to  eightocn  months." 

Thus  wo  perceive  that  the  Model  Prison  was  intended  to  be  a  place  of  instniotion  and 
probation,  rather  than  one  of  oppressive  discipline,  and  was  originally  limited  to  adults 
only,  between  tho  ages  of  eighteen  and  thirty-five. 

From  the  year  1843  to  1848,  with  a  slight  exception  on  the  opening  of  the  establishment, 
tho  prisoners  admitted  into  Pentonville  were  most  carefiilly  selected  from  the  whole  body  ui 
convicts.  A  change,  however,  in  the  class  of  prisoners  was  the  cause  of  some  adverse 
results  in  the  year  1848,  and  in  their  Boport  for  that  year  the  Commissionen  say — "  Wo 


PENTOKVILLE  PRISON.  115 

are  sony  that,  as  to  the  health  and  mental  condition  of  the  prisoners,  we  have  to  make  a 
mnch  less  satisfactory  report  than  in  any  of  the  former  years  since  the  prison  was  esta- 
blished  It  may  be  difficult,"  they  add,  "  to  offer  a  certain  explanation  of  the  great 

number  of  cases  of  death  and  of  insanity  that  have  occurred  within  the  last  year.  We  haye, 
boweyer,  reason  to  belieye  that  in  the  earlier  years  of  this  institution,  the  conyicts  sent  here 
were  selected  from  a  large  number,  and  the  selection  was  made  with  a  more  exolusiyo 
regard  to  tbeir  physical  capacity  for  undergoing  this  species  of  punishment/' 

Experience,  then,  appearing  to  indicate  the  necessity  of  some  modification  of  the  disci- 
pline at  Pentonyille,  which,  without  any  sacrifice  of  its  efficiency,  would  render  it  more  safe 
and  more  generally  ayailable  to  all  classes  of  conyicts,  ''  8ir  George  Grey,"  we  are  told, 
'*  concurred  in  the  opinion  of  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie  and  Br.  Ferguson,  that  the  utmost  watch- 
fulness and  discretion  on  the  part  of  the  goyemor,  chaplain,  and  medical  attendants  would 
be  requisite,  in  order  to  administer,  with  safety,  the  system  established  there." 

It  being  no  longer  necessary  to  continue  the  experiment  upon  prison  discipline,  which 
bad  been  in  fall  operation  from  1843  to  1849,  it  was  brought  to  a  close,  and  the  accom- 
modation in  Pentonyille  prison  was  thus  rendered  ayailable  for  the  general  purposes  of  the 
conyict  seryice. 

Accordingly,  the  period  of  confinement  in  Pentonyille  Prison  was  first  reduced  from 
eighteen  to  twelye  months,  and  subsequently  to  nine  months.  Keyertheless,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  1852,  says  an  official  document,  '*  there  occurred  an  unusualhf  large  number  of 
cases  of  mental  affection  among  the  prisoners,  and  it  was  therefore  deemed  necessary  to 
increase  the  amount  of  exercise  in  the  open  air,  and  to  introduce  the  plan  of  brisk  walking, 
as  pursued  at  Wakefield."  The  change,  we  are  told,  produced  a  most  marked  and  beneficial 
effect  upon  the  general  health  of  the  inmates.  Indeed,  so  much  so,  that ''  in  the  course  of 
the  year  following,  there  was,"  say  the  reports,  ''not  one  remoyal  to  Bedlam."* 

•  The  numbpT  of  remoTalB  firom  Pentonville  to  Bedlam,  on  the  ground  of  insanity,  aa  compared  with  the 
preceding  yean,  waa,  in  the  year  1851,  found  to  be— 

27  in  10,000  from  1842-40 
32  „  „  „  1850 
16  „  „  „  1861 
16  „  „  „  1862 
0  ,t  „  „  1868 
10  „  „  „  1864 
20  „       „        „      1864 

The  ahome  ratio,  howeyer,  expreasee  only  the  proportion  per  10,000  pnaonen  removed  to  Bedlam  aa  insane ; 
but  the  following  table,  which  has  been  kindly  furnished  us  by  Mr.  Bradley,  the  eminent  medical  officer  of 
Pe&toayiOe  prison,  giyea  the  proportion  of  caaea  of  mental  disease  occurring  annually,  after  first  10  yeara : — 

In  10  years,  firom  1843  to  1862     120  per  10,000  prisoners. 

n  »»  1868     60  „  „ 

»  >;  1864     38  „  „ 

«>  »»  1866     69  „  „ 

Hence  it  wonld  appear  that  the  improyed  treatment  of  shortened  term  of  separation,  rapid  exercise,  and 
mperior  yentilatlon,  haa  decreased  the  rate  of  insane  esses  to  less  than  one-half  what  it  was  in  the  first  10 
Tr«rs.  StiU,  much  has  to  be  done  to  bring  the  propordon  down  to  the  normal  standard  of  all  other  pritonM, 
vbieh  18  only  6*8  per  10,000  prisoners.     Vide  p.  103  of  Gssat  Wobld  op  London. 

It  IS  but  Just  to  state  here  that  the  Beports  of  the  Commissioners,  one  and  all,  evince  a  marked  consideration 
and  anxiety  for  the  health  of  the  conyicts  placed  under  their  care ;  and  we  are  happy  to  haye  it  in  our  power  to 
add,  that  our  own  personal  experience  teachee  us  that  none  could  possibly  show  a  greater  interest,  sympathy, 
and  kindness,  for  all  ^^  prisoners  and  captiyes,"  than  the  Suryeyor-General  of  Prisons.  It  is  a  high  satisfac- 
tion to  find,  when  one  oomea  to  deal  with  prisons  and  prisoners,  that  almost  eyery  gentleman  placed  in  autho- 
rity oyer  the  conyicta  appears  to  be  actuated  by  the  most  humane  and  kindly  motiyea  towards  them.  Nor  do 
we,  in  aaying  thus  much,  judge  merely  from  manner  and  external  appearances.  Our  peculiar  inyestigations 
throw  na  into  oommunieadon  with  many  a  liberated  conyict,  who  has  served  his  probationary  tem  at  the 
Model,  and  we  can  conscientiously  aver,  that  we  have  never  heard  any  speak  but  in  the  very  highest  terms, 
both  of  the  CKyyemor  of  Pentonyille.  the  Chaplain,  and  the  Suryeyor-General  himsell 


116  THE  GREAT  WOKLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  Tendlatioii  waa  bIbo  improved  hj  admittiiig  the  outer  air  direct  to  the  cells,  and  the 
discipline  'was  at  onoe  relaxed  -when  any  injmy  to  health  vas  apprehended.  Farther,  when- 
erer  there  iraa  reason  to  believe  that  a  prisoner  was  likoly  to  be  injnrionsly  affected  by  the 
disaiplin^  he  vas,  in  conformity  with  the  instmctionB  of  the  directors,  removed  fiom  strict 
separate  confinement,  and  put  to  woi^  in  association  with  other  prisoners.* 

Snch,  then,  is  Hie  history  of  the  institution,  and  the  reasons  for  the  changes  connected 
with  the  discipline,  of  Fentonville  Priscoi. 

As  regards  the  details  of  the  building  itself,  the  following  are  the  technical  paiticnlais : — 
The  prison  oocupiea  an  area  of  6f  acres.  It  has  "  a  curtain  wall  with  massive  posterns  in 
front,"  where,  as  we  have  said,  stands  a  lai^  entrance  gateway,  the  latter  demgned  by  Barry, 
vhose  arches  are  filled  with  portoullis  work^  whilst  from  the  main  buildii^  rises  an 
"Itelian"  clock-tower.  From  the  central  corridor  within  radiate  four  wings,  constructed  after 
ttie  &shion  of  spokes  to  a  half-wheel,  and  one  long  entrance  hall,  leading  to  the  central 
point.  Theinterior  ofeachof  thefonr  wings  or  "conidoTB"  b  fitted  with  130  cells,  arranged 
in  three  "  galleries"  or  storeys,  one  above  the  other,  and  each  floOT  contains  some  forty-odd 
qtarlmenta  for  separate  oonfinement. 


SmD'S-ETB 

(FroBi  ■  SnmiDg  in 

Every  cell  is  13)  feet  long  bj'  7J!  feet  broad,  and  9  feet  high,  and  contains  an  earthenware 
water-closet,  and  copper  wash-basin,  supplied  with  water;  a  three-legged  stool,  table,  and 
shaded  gas-bumer — bendes  a  hammook  for  slinging  at  night,  fiumished  with  mattress  and 

•  The  total  nomber  witbdrsini  from  lapsntion  ia  the  yeu  1854  wm  6S,  uid  S3  of  th«M  wen  pot  to 
work  in  uaocUtion  on  mmtal  gnunda,  eonaistiiig  of  oun  in  wtuoh  men  of  low  intellect  begsn  under  Bcpuate 
confinoment  to  cxhlUt  tnmlnl  excitement,  deprcMiOD,  oi  irritability,  vhilit  IS  mora  wen  nmored  to  pnblio 
VDtki  betbre  the  expiration  of  their  tarm  of  aeponte  eonflnement,  beeiuie  thej  veie,  in  the  word*  of  the 
modioli  offloer,  "likelj  to  he  injurionilj  ifCeGted  bj  the  diaoipline  of  the  prinon."  Bj  a  mmmaiy  of  a  list 
of  the  e*M*  raqniring  medioal  treitment— u  given  in  the  Hedieal  Offloet'i  Report  for  18S5— to  find,  that 
of  the  ttiieiiei.  iS-9  per  cent,  ooniiit  of  conitipatiDD,  *nd  16'6  per  cent,  of  dyipepaii— the  other  aflectioiM 
beinK  "  cstantu,"  of  which  tlie  proportion  ii  S0*7peroanL,and  dien'h{e&  100  per  oenLiwhiletthe  remuning 
16'9pereNit.  wtiBttdeupof  avarietfirfbitial  and  anonuloua  owee. 


PENTONVELLE  PEISON. 


117 


blanketB.  In  the  door  of  erezy  cell  In  an  eyelet-hole,  through  which  the  officer  on  daty 
may  obeerye  what  is  going  on  within  from  without.  Each  of  the  cellfl  is  said  to  have 
oo0t,  on  an  average,  upwards  of  £150. 

The  building  is  heated  by  hot  water  on  the  basement,  and  the  ventilation  is  maintained 
by  an  immense  shaft  in  the  roof  of  each  wing.  The  prison  has  also  a  chapel  on  the  separate 
system,  fitted  with  some  four  hundred  distinct  stalls  or  sittings,  for  the  prisoners,  and  so 
arranged  that  the  officers  on  duty,  during  divine  service,  may  have  each  man  under  their  sur- 
9eilkmce.  There  are  also  exercisiog  yards  for  single  prisoners,  between  each  of  the  radiating 
wings,  and  two  larger  yards—one  on  either  side  of  the  entrance-haU — ^for  exerciBing  large 
bodies  of  the  prisoners  collectively. 

Moreover,  there  are  artesian  wells  for  supplpng  the  prison  with  water,  and  a  gas-factory 
for  lighting  (be  building.  Indeed,  the  prison  is  constructed  and  fitted  according  to  all  the 
refinements  of  modem  science,  and  complete  in  all  its  appliances.* 


Th$  Interior  o/FerUormUe  Frtson, 

Artists  and  Poets  clamour  loudly  about  "ideals,"  but  these  same  artistic  and  poetic 
idealities  are,  in  most  cases,  utterly  unlike  the  realities  of  life,  being  usually  images  begotten 
by  narrow  sentiments  rather  than  the  abstract  results  of  large  observation ;  for  idealization 

*  On  March  the  13th,  1866,  there  vere  368  prisonen  confined  here ;  and  these  were  thus  diatributed 
over  the  building : — 


Corridor  A 


Goiridor  B 


'Ko.  I  Ward  24   priaonerB\ 

2  „    27        „        \ 

3  „    42a      „        j 

No.  I  Ward  26a  prisoners) 
2       „    22 
8 


/No 

i " 

jNo 


M 


82 


n 


I 


93 


80 


CozridorC 

No.  1  Ward  26     prisoners 

>»    2       „    21           „ 
.  „    3       „    38           „       ' 

/No.  1  Ward  206   prisoners \ 

Ckinidor  B 

„    £       „    40a         „       f 
„    3       „     21aa        „ 
i  V    ^       n     29            „        J 

86 


■  110 


368 


The  letter  a  affixed  to  some  of  the  nmnbers  above  giren,  signifles  that  one  man,  and  aaj  two  men,  out  of 

that  ward  were  confined  in  the  refractory  cells ;  and  b  that  there  was  one  from  that  part  of  the  building  sick 

in  the  infirmary-ward.    D  4  is  the  associated  ward,  and  at  the  basement  of  the  southern  part  of  the  building. 

The  HaUowing  table  giyes  a  statement  of  the  number  of  prisoners  received  aud  sent  away  in  the  course 

of  a  year:— 

NuMBBE  Aim  Ddfosal  ov  Pkisonbbs  at  Psmtonvtllb  Pbison  hvbxso  thb  Tbab  1854. 


Bomaining  31st  December,  1863 
during  the  year  1864 


489 
436 


926 


Thew  925  prisoners  were  disposed  of  as 
fidlowt: — 

TnntAmd  to  Portland  Prison 

Portsmonth  •        • 

Dartmoor        ... 
''Stirling  Castle"  Hulk  . 


193 

120 

20 

2 


If 

n 

„  Bethlehem  Hospital  (insane)    1 

Of  the  436  prisoners  admitted  during  1864,  the  following  is  a  statement  of  the  ages :— 


Pardoned  fr«e 

conditional     . 

on  medical  grounds 
„        on  licence 

Died 

Suicide  .        .        .        . 


Remaining  31st  December,  1864 


1 
3 
1 

37 
8 
1 

387 
638 


926 


3  were  under  the  age  of  17  years. 
243  were  between      „        17  and  26  years. 
79  „  „        26    „    30 

51  „  „        30    „    36 

28  „  „  '      36   „    40 

11  »  .,        40    .,    46 


99 


n 


13  were  between  the  age  of  46  and  60  years. 
6  „  „  60    „    66 

2  ..  ,,  66    tt    60 


»» 


» 


}> 


436 
Proportion  of  prisoners  between  17  and  26  years,  66-7 


118  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

is — or  at  least  should  be — ^in  matters  of  art  what  generaHzatios  ie  in  science,  since  a  pictorial 
**type"  is  but  the  sssthetic  cqniTalent  of  a  natural  "order;'*  and  as  the  ''genus"  in  philosophy 
should  express  merely  the  point  of  agreement  among  a  number  of  diverse  phenomena,  even 
80  that  graphic  essence  which  is  termed  "  character"  should  represent  the  peculiar  form 
common  to  a  variety  of  visible  things. 

We  remember  once  seeing  an  engraving  that  was  intended  for  an  ideal  portrait  of  the 
common  hangman,  in  which  the  hair  was  of  the  approved  convict  cut,  with  a  small  villainous 
valance  left  dangling  in  front — the  forehead  as  low  as  an  ape's — ^the  brow  repulsively  beetled  and 
overhanging  as  eaves,  whilst  the  sunken  eyes  were  like  miniature  embrasures  pregnant  with 
their  black  artillery.  And  yet,  when  we  made  the  acquaintance  of  Calcraft,  we  found  him 
bearing  the  impress  of  no  such  monster,  but  rather  so  "  respectable"  in  his  appearance,  that 
on  first  beholding  a  gentleman  in  a  broad  brimmed  hat  and  bushy  iron  gray  hair,  seated  at  the 
little  table  in  the  lobby  of  Newgate,  with  his  hands,  too,  resting  on  the  knob  of  his  Malacca 
cane,  we  mistook  him  for  some  dissenting  minister,  who  had  come  to  offer  consolation  to  one 
of  the  wretched  inmates.  Nor  could  we  help  mentally  contrasting  the  loathsome  artistic 
ideality  with  the  almost  humane-looking  reality  before  us. 

The  same  violence,  too,  is  done  to  our  preconceived  notions  by  the  first  sight  of  the  jailer 
of  the  present  day.  The  ideal  leads  us  to  picture  such  a  functionary  in  our  minds  as  a  kind 
of  human  Cerberus — ^a  creature  that  looks  as  surly  and  sullen  as  an  officer  of  the  Inquisition^ 
and  with  a  bunch  of  huge  keys  fastened  to  his  waist,  whose  jangle,  as  he  moves,  reminds 
one  of  the  clink  of  fetters.  The  reality,  however,  proves  on  acquaintance  to  be  generally  a 
gentleman  with  a  half  military  air,  who,  so  far  firam  being  characterized  by  any  of  the  vulgar 
notions  of  the  stem  and  cruel-minded  prison-keeper,  is  usually  marked  by  an  almost  tendur 
consideration  for  those  placed  under  his  charge,  and  who  is  certainly  prompted  by  the  same 
desire  that  distinguishes  all  better-class  people  now-a-days,  to  ameliorate  the  condition  of 
their  unfortunate  fellows. 

At  Pentonville,  the  same  mental  conflict  between  vulgar  preconceptions  and  strange  matter 
.  of  fact  ensues ;  for  the  prison  there  is  utterly  unlike  all  our  imaginary  pictures  of  prisons — ^the 
governor  a  kind-hearted  gentleman,  rather  thaa  approaching  to  the  fenciM  type  of  the  unfeeling 
jaUer— and  the  turnkeys  a  kind  of  mixture  between  policemen  and  ndlitary  officers  in  un- 
dress, instead  of  the  ferocious-looking  prison-officials  ordinarily  represented  on  the  stage. 

No  sooner  is  the  prison  door  opened  in  answer  to  our  summons  at  the  bell,  than  wo 
might  believe  we  were  inside  some  little  park  lodge,  so  tidy  and  cozy  and  imjail-like  is  tke 
place ;  and  here  is  the  same  capacious  hooded  chair,  Hke  the  head  of  a  gigantic  cradle,  that 
is  usually  found  in  the  hall  of  large  mansions. 

The  officer,  as  he  holds  back  the  portal,  and  listens  to  our  inquiry  as  to  whether  the 
Oovemor  be  visible,  raises  his  hand  to  his  glazed  military  cap,  and  salutes  us  soldier^fashion, 
as  ho  replies  briskly,  "  Yessir." 

Having  produced  our  Government  order,  to  allow  us  to  inspect  the  prison,  we  are 
ushered  across  a  small  paved  court-yard,  and  then  up  a  broad  flight  of  stone  steps  to  the 
large  glass  door  that  admits  us  to  the  passage  leading  to  the  prison  itself.  The  officer  who 
accompanies  us  is  habited  in  a  single-breasted,  policeman-like,  frock  coat,  with  a  bright 
brass  crown  bulging  from  its  stiff,  stand-up  collar,  and  round  his  waist  he  wears  a  broad 
leatherir  strap,  with  a  shiny  cartouche-box  behind,  in  which  he  carries  his  keys.  These 
keys  are  now  withdrawn,  and  the  semi-glass  door — that  is  so  utterly  unlike  the  gloomy  and 
ponderous  prison  portal  of  olden  times — ^is  thrown  back  for  us  to  pass  through. 

We  are  then  at  the  end  of  a  long  and  broad  passage,  which  is  more  like  the  lengthy  hall 
to  some  Government  office,  than  the  entrance  to  an  old-fashioned  jail,  and  at  the  opposite 
extremity  we  can  just  see,  through  the  windows  of  the  other  door  there,  figures  flitting 
backwards  and  forwards  in  the  bright  light  of  what  we  afterwards  learn  is  the  "  centre 
corridor"  of  the  building. 


PENTONtlLIE  PMSGN.  119 

The  fint  thing  &at  strikn  tlie  mind  on  entering  the  priBon  paMOg«,  is  the  wondrous  and 
parfiwtly  Dntoh-like  oleanlineM  pervading  the  place.     The  floor,  which  ia  of  asphalte,  has 
been  polished,  bj  oontinaal  sweeping,  bo  bright  that  we  can  hardly  beliere  it  haa  not  been 
UMk-feaded,  and  ao  ntterlf  free  from  duat  are  all  the  monldinga  of  the  trim  stucco  walls, 
that  we  would  defy  the  ahtop- 
est  housewife  to  get  m  much 
off  upon  her  flngera  u  she 
ecpuld  brush  ev«n  from  a  but- 
terfly's wing. 

In  no  private  house  la  it 
poMble  to  Ke  the  like  of  this 
dainty  cleanliness,  and  aa  we 
wallc  along  the  paaasge  we 
cannot  help  wondering  why  it 
Is  that  we  should  find  the  per- 
fection of  the  domeetio  virtue 
in  such  an  abiding-plaoe. 

We  are  shown  into  a  small 
waiting-Toom  on  one  tdde  of 
the  passage,  While  tLe  officer 
goes  to  apprise  the  governor 
of  our  presence ;  and  here  we 
have  to  enter  our  name  in  a 
book,  and  specify  the  date,  as 
ireQ  as  by  whose  permission 
we  have  oome.  Here,  too,  we 
find  the  same  acrupolong  tidi- 
nes,  and  utt«r  freedom  from 
£rt — ^the  stove  being  aa  lus- 
trous, from  its  frequent  coats 
of  "black-lead,"  aa  if  it  had 
been  newly  carved  out  of  solid 
plumbago. 

A  tew  minutes  afterwords, 
ve  are  handed  over  to  a  war- 
der, who  receives  instructiona 
to  accompany  ua  round  the  pri- 
son ;  and  then,  being  con- 
ducted through  the  glaaa  door 
at  the  Other  end  of  the  poa- 
■age.weatand,  for  thefirst  time, 
in  the  "ceutre  corridor"  of 
the  "  Kodel  Prison." 

To  conceive  the  peculiar 
chapter  of  this  buildS,  the  ""^■~''  "  ••'='^^^"-'-«  "i^"-''- 

reader mmrt  imagine  four  long  Ift<«.»«win.tatb.B.pwiofib.».r™j«-o««.i«fPri»™.j 

"wings,"  or  "corridoTB,"  as  they  are  officially  afyled,  radiating  from  a  centre,  like  the 
spokes  in  a  half-wheel ;  or,  what  ia  better,  a  series  of  light  and  lofty  tnnnelB,  all  diverging 
from  one  point,  after  the  manner  of  the  prongs  in  an  open  fan.  Indeed,  when  we  first 
entered  the  inner  part  of  the  prison,  the  lengthy  and  high  corridors,  with  their  aky-Ijght 


120  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

roofsy  seemed  to  ns  like  a  bunch  of  Burlington  Arcades,  that  had  been  fitted  up  in  the  style 
of  the  opera-box  lobbies,  with  an  infinity  of  little  doors — these  same  doors  being  ranged,  not 
only  one  after  another,  but  one  abw^  another,  three  storeys  high,  till  the  walls  of  the  arcades 
were  pierced  as  thick  with  them  as  the  tall  and  lengthy  sides  of  a  man-of-war  with  its  hun* 
dred  port-holes. 

Then  there  are  narrow  iron  galleries  stretching  along  in  firont  of  each  of  the  upper  floors, 
after  the  manner  of  lengthy  balconies,  and  reaching  from  one  end  of  the  arcades  to  the 
other,  whilBt  these  are  so  light  in  their  construction,  that  in  the  extreme  length  of  the 
several  wings  they  look  almost  like  ledges  jutting  firam  the  walls. 

Half-way  down  each  corridor,  too,  there  is  seen,  high  in  the  air,  a  light  bridge,  similar 
to  the  one  joining  the  paddle-boxes  on  board  a  steamer,  connecting  the  galleries  on  either 
side  of  every  floor. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  not  the  long,  arcade-like  corridors,  nor  the  opera-lobby-like  series  of 
doors,  nor  the  lengthy  balconies  stretching  along  each  gallery,  nor  the  paddle-box-like  bridges 
connecting  the  opposite  sides  of  the  arcade,  that  constitute  the  peculiar  character  of  Penton- 
ville  prison.  Its  distinctive  feature,  on  the  contrary — ^the  one  that  renders  it  utterly  dissimi- 
lar from  all  other  jails—  is  the  extremely  bright,  and  cheerfdl,  and  airy  quality  of  the 
building ;  so  that,  with  its  long,  light  corridors,  it  strikes  the  mind,  on  first  entering  it,  as  a 
bit  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  stripped  of  all  its  contents.  There  is  none  of  the  gloom,  nor  dungeon- 
like character  of  a  jail  appertaining  to  it;  nor  are  there  bolts  and  heavy  locks  to  grate  upon 
the  ear  at  every  turn ;  whilst  even  the  windows  are  destitute  of  the  proverbial  prison-bars — 
the  frames  of  these  being  made  of  iron,  and  the  panes  so  small  that  they  serve  at  once  as 
safeguards  and  sashes. 

Moreover,  so  admirably  is  the  ventilation  of  the  building  contrived  and  kept  up,  that 
there  is  not  the  least  sense  of  closeness  pervading  it,  for  we  feel,  immediately  we  set  foot  in 
the  place,  how  &esh  and  pure  is  the  atmosphere  there ;  and  that,  at  least,  in  that  prison,  no 
wretched  captive  can  sigh  to  breathe  the  ''free  air  of  Heaven, '^  since  in  the  open  country 
itself  it  could  not  be  less  stagnant  than  in  the  ''  model'*  jail — even  though  there  be,  as  at  the 
time  of  our  visit,  upwards  of  400  men  confined  day  and  night — sleeping,  breathing,  and  per- 
forming all  the  functions  of  nature  in  their  400  separate  cells  throughout  the  place.  • 

The  cells  distributed  throughout  this  magnificent  building  are  about  the  size  of  the  interior 
of  a  large  and  roomy  omnibus,  but  some  feet  higher,  and  they  seem  to  those  who  are  not  doomed 
to  dwell  in  them — apart  from  all  the  world  without — really  comfortable  apartments.  In  such, 
however,  as  contain  a  loom  (and  a  large  number  of  the  cells  on  the  ground-floor  are  fitted  with, 
those  instruments),  there  is  not  a  superabundance  of  spare  room.  Nevertheless,  there  is 
sufilcient  capacity,  as  well  as  light,  in  each,  to  make  the  place  seem  to  a  free  man  a  light, 
airy,  and  cheerM  abode.  Against  the  wall,  on  one  side,  is  set  the  bright,  copper  hand-basiii 
— ^not  unlike  a  big  funnel — ^with  a  tap  of  water  immediately  above  it ;  at  the  extreme  end 
of  the  cell  is  the  small  closet,  well  supplied  with  water-pipes ;  and  in  another  part  you  see 
the  shaded  gas-jet,  whilst  in  one  of  the  comers  by  the  door  are  some  two  or  three  triangular 
shelves,  where  the  prisoner's  spoon,  platter,  mug,  and  soap-box,  &c.,  are  stowed.  On 
the  upper  of  these  shelves,  the  rolled-up  hammock,  with  its  bedding,  stands  on  end,  like  a 
huge  mufi*,  and  let  into  the  wall  on  either  side,  some  three  feet  firom  the  ground,  are  two 
large  bright  eyelet  holes,  to  which  the  hammock  is  slung  at  night,  as  shown  in  the  engraving. 
Then  there  is  a  little  table  and  stool,  and  occasionally  on  the  former  may  be  found  some  brown 
paper-covered  book  or  periodical,  with  which  the  prisoner  has  been  supplied  fbom  the  prison 
library.  In  one  cell  which  we  entered,  while  the  men  were  at  exercise  in  the  yard,  we  found 
a  copy  of  "  Old  Htthfkrey's  Thoughts,"  and  in  another,  a  recent  number  of  ''  Chambsbs'b 
EniKBTTBOH  Joitbkal"  left  open  on  the  table.  Moreover,  hanging  against  the  wall  is  a 
pasteboard  bill,  headed,  "  Notice  to  Convicts,*'  and  the  "  Ettles  and  ££gttla.tions"  of  the 
prison,  as  well  as  the  little  card  inscribed  with  the  prisoner's  ''  registered  number"  (for  in 
PeatonviUc  prison  all  names  cease),  and  citing  not  only  his  previous  occupation,  but  tcmx 


PENTONVILLE  PRISON. 


121 


of  senteiLce,  date  of  oonyictioii,  &c.  Further,  there  is,  in  the  comer  near  the  cupboard,  a 
button,  which,  on  being  turned,  .causes  a  small  gong  to  be  struck  in  the  corridor  without, 
and  at  the  same  moment  makes  a  metal  plate  or  ''  index*'  outside  the  door  start  out  at 
right  angles  to  the  wall,  so  that  the  warder,  when  summoned  by  the  bell,  may  know  which 
prisoner  has  rung. 

On  this  index  is  painted  the  nnmber  of  the  cell,  and  as  you  walk  along  the  corridors  you 
observ-e,  not  only  a  large  black  letter  painted  at  the  entrance  of  each  arcade,  but  a  series  of 
these  same  indices,  each  inscribed  with  a  dijQferent  number,  and  (except  where  the  gong 
has  been  recently  sounded)  flat  against  the  wall  beside  the  door.  Now  these  letters  on  the 
corridors,  as  well  as  the  indices  beside  the  doors,  are  nsed  not  only  to  express  the  position 
of  the  cell,  but,  strange  to  say,  the  name  of  the  prisoner  confined  within  it ;  for  here,  as  we 
said,  men  have  no  longer  Christian  and  surnames  to  distinguish  them  one  from  the  other,  but 
are  called  merely  after  the  position  of  cell^they  occupy.  Hence,  no  matter  what  the  appella- 
tion of  a  man  may  have  been— or  even  whether  he  bore  a  noble  title  before  entering  the 
prison — ^immediately  he  comes  as  a  convict  within  its  precincts,  he  is  from  that  time  known  as 
D  3,  4,  or  B  2,  10,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  wears  at  his  breast  a  charity-boy-like  brass  badge  so 
inscribed,  to  mark  him  from  the  rest.  Thus  he  is  no  longer  James  This,  or  Mr.  That,  or 
even  Sir  John  So-and-so,  but  simply  the  prisoner  confined  in  corridor  D,  gallery  3,  and  cell  4, 
or  else  the  one  in  corridor  B,  gallery  2,  and  ceU  10 ;  so  that  instead  of  addressing  prisoners 
here  as  Brown,  Jones,  and  Bobinson,  the  warder  in  whose  gallery  and  corridor  those  con- 
victs may  happen  to  be  calls  them,  for  brevity  sake,  simply  and  individually  by  the  number 
of  the  cells  they  occupy  in  his  part  of  the  building.  Accordingly  the  officer  on  duty  may 
occasionally  be  heard  to  cry  to  some  one  of  the  prisoners  under  his  charge,  "  Now  step 
out  tiiiere  4,  wiU  you  ?  "  or,  "  Turn  out  here.  Number  6."* 

*  The  following  ib  a  list  of  the  several  oificen  of  Pentonyille  Prison  in  the  year  1856  : — 


Bobert  Ilosking    -  - 
BeT.  Joseph  S^ingsniill 

Ajubroee  Sherwin  -  - 

Charles  L.  Bradley  - 

WiUiam  H.  Fo»ter  - 

Alft«d  P.  Nantes  -  - 

Angus  Macpherson  - 

Edvard  Tottenham  - 

Bobert  Tellsly     -  - 

Thomas  Carr    .    -  - 

James  Maya    -    -  - 

John  Wilson    -    -  - 

Charles  Gregg  -    -  - 

Cdward  J.  Hoare  -  • 

Terence  Nulty      -  - 

John  Jenkins  -     -  - 

David  Adamson    •  - 

John  Smart      •     .  . 

irilliam  Wood      -  - 

Adam  Corrie    -    -  . 

WiUiam  Keating  -  - 

Senthil  Lindsay    -  - 

David  Darling      -  • 

Michael  Lafian     -  - 

Bobert  Green  -     •  - 

John  Snellgrove    -  - 

Edward  Edwards  -  - 

James  Snowball    -  - 
Bichazd  Wiloooks 

Peter  Cameron     -  - 

John  Whitehnrst  -  • 


Grivemor 
Chaplain 
Assistant  do. 
Medical  Officer 

Steward  &  Manufacturer 
Governor's  Clerk 
Accountant  Clerk 
Steward's  Clerk 
Assistant  do. 

Manufacturer's  Clerk 
Assistant  do. 

Schoolmaster 
Assistant  do. 
Do.  and  Organist 
Chief  Warder  • 
Principal  Warder 
Ditto 

Warder 

» 

» 
> 
» 


n 

Assistant  Warder 

»» 
»» 

M 


Name, 
John  Donegan 
James  Hampton 


Bnnk, 
Assistant  Warder 


»i 


Joseph  Matthews  -    -    -  Warder  Instructor 

John  Baptie     .     .     -    - 

Thomas  Hirst  -    -    -    • 

John  Armstrong   ... 

John  Fitzgerald    -    -    - 

Martin  Burke  -    .     .     - 

Amos  Driver    .... 


»» 
»» 


WUliam  Callway  -  - 

John  White     -    -  - 

Edward  Bevan      .  - 
Thomas  Charleswurth 

Samuel  Whitley   -  - 

Arthur  Keenan     -  > 

William  Matthis  -  - 

George  Larkin      -  - 
Thomas  B.  Testes 

Thomas  Bogeis     -  > 

Stephen  Oatley     .  > 

Robert  Lyon    -     •  . 
Charles  Poole  ... 

John  Pride       .     -  - 

Edward  (Gannon    -  . 

Matthew  Yates     .  - 

William  Butler     -  - 

Griffin  Crannis     -  - 

John  Beckley  .    .  - 

John  Cladinghowl  - 


.  Assist  Warder  Instructor 


»» 
♦» 


Infirmary  Warder 
Gate  Porter 
Inner  Gate  Porter 
Messenger 

Foreman  of  Works 

Plumber 

Gasmaker 

Assistant  ditto 

Ennne-man 

Stoker 

Steward's  Porter 
Manufacturers'  Porter 
Carter 

Cook 
Baker 


122  THE  GEE  AT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


1fi-y. 

A  Work-Bay  at  JPentofwUle. 

To  understand  the  ^'  routine''  of  Pentonville  Prison,  it  is  neoessory  to  spend  one  entire  long 
day  in  the  establishment,  from  the  very  opening  to  the  closing  of  the  prison ;  and  if  tiiere  be 
any  convicts  leaving  for  the  public  works,  as  on  the  day  we  chose  for  our  visit,  the  stranger 
must  be  prepared  to  stay  at  least  eighte^i  hours  within  the  walls.  Nor,  to  our  mind, 
can  time  be  more  interestingly  passed. 

The  stars  were  still  shining  coldly  in  the  sHver  gray  sky  on  the  morning  when  we  left 
our  home  to  witness  the  departure  of  some  thirty-odd  prisoners  from  Pentonyille  for  Ports- 
mouth. We  were  anxious  to  discover  with  what  /eelings  the  poor  wretches,  who  had  spent 
their  nine  months  at  the  Hodel,  excluded  from  all  intercourse  but  that  of  prison  offioers, 
would  look  forward  to  their  liberation  from  separate  confinement ;  and  though  we  had  been 
informed  over-night  that  the  ''batch"  was  to  leave  as  early  as  a  quarter  past  6  a.m., 
we  did  not  regret  having  to  turn  out  into  the  streets,  with  the  cold  March  morning  winds 
blowing  so  sharp  in  the  £eu}6  as  to  fill  the  eyes  with  tears. 

As  we  slammed  our  door  after  us,  the  deserted  street  seemed  to  tremble  as  it  echoed 
again  with  the  noise.  On  the  opposite  side  of  the  way,  the  policeman,  in  his  long  great 
coat,  was  busy,  throwing  the  light  of  his  bull's-eye  upon  the  doors  and  parlour  windows,  and 
down  into  the  areas,  as  he  passed  on  his  rounds,  making  the  dark  walls  flicker  with  the  glare 
as  if  a  Jack-a-Dandy  had  been  cast  upon  them,  and,  startled  by  tiie  sound,  he  turned  sud- 
denly round  to  direct  his  lantern  towards  us  as  if  he  really  took  us  for  one  of  the  burglarious 
characters  we  were  about  to  visit. 

The  cabmen  at  the  nearest  stand  were  asleep  inside  their  rickety  old  broughams,  and  as 
we  turned  into  Tottenham  Court  Bead  we  encountered  the  early  street  coffee-stall  keeper 
with  his  large  coffee-cans  dangling  from  either  end  of  a  yoke  across  his  shoulders,  and  the 
red  fire  shiniTig  through  the  holes  of  the  fire-pan  beneath  like  spots  of  crimson  foil. 

Then,  as  we  hurried  on,  we  passed  here  and  there  a  butdier's  light ''  chay-cart"  with  the 
name  painted  on  the  side,  hurrying  off  to  the  early  meat-markets,  and  the  men  huddled  in 
the  bottom  of  the  vehicle,  behind  the  driver  with  their  coat-collars  turned  up,  and  dozing  as 
they  went.  Next  came  some  tall  and  stalwart  brewer's  drayman  (they  are  always  the 
first  in  the  streets),  in  his  dirty  drab  flushing  jacket,  and  leathern  leggings,  hastening  towards 
the  brewery ;  and,  at  some  long  distance  after  him,  we  met  an  old  ragged  crone,  tottering  on 
her  way  to  the  Earringdon  water-cress  market  with  her  **  shallow  "  under  her  arm,  and  her 
old  rusty  frayed  shawl  drawn  tight  round  her ;  whilst  here  and  there  we  should  see  a  stray 
bone-grubber,  or  '*  pure  "  finder,  in  his  shiny  grimy  tatters,  '*  routing  "  among  the  precious 
muck-heaps  for  rich  rags  and  valuable  refuse. 

Strange  and  almost  fearfdl  was  the  silence  of  the  streets,  at  that  hour !  So  still,  indeed, 
were  they  that  we  could  hear  the  heavy  single  knock,  followed  by  the  shrill  cry  of  the 
chimney-sweep,  echoing  through  the  desolate  thoroughfares,  as  he  waited  at  some  door  hard  by 
and  shrieked,  "  Swo  o  ocp !"  to  rouse  the  sleeping  cook-maid.  Then  every  foot-fiall  seemed 
to  tell  upon  the  pavement  like  the  tramp  of  the  night-police,  and  we  could  hear  the  early 
workmen  trudging  away,  long  before  we  saw  them  coming  towards  us,  some  with  thdr  basin 
of  food  for  the  day  done  up  in  a  handkerchief,  and  dangling  from  their  hand — and  others 
Hke  the  smoky  and  unwashed  smiths  with  an  old  nut-basket  full  6£  tools  slung  over  t^eir 
shoulder  upon  the  head  of  a  hammer — ^the  bricklayer  with  his  large  wooden  level  and  coarse 
nailbag  frill  of  trowels  hanging  at  his  back — and  the  carpenter  on  his  way  to  some  new 
suburban  building  in  his  flannel  jacket  and  rolled-up  apron,  and  with  the  end  of  his  saw  and 
jack-plane  peeping  from  his  tool-basket  behind ;  while  here  and  there,  as  we  got  into  the 


PENTONVILLB  PEISON.  123 

neaghboorhood  of  King's  Gross,  we  should  pass  some  railway  guard  or  poiter  on  his  way  to  the 
terminus  for  the  early  trains. 

IKThile  jo^;ing  along  in  the  darkness — for  still  there  was  not  a  gleam  of  daybreak  visible — 
we  could  not  help  thinkings  what  would  the  wretched  creatures  we  were  about  to  visit  not 
give  to  be  allowed  one  half-hour's  walk  through  those  cold  and  gloomy  streets,  and  how  beauti- 
ful one  such  stroll  in  the  London  thorouglifEu:^  would  appear  to  them — beautiful  pa  quitting 
the  house,  after  a  long  sickness,  is  to  us. 

Kor  could  we  help,  at  the  same  time,  speculating  as  to  the  perversity  of  the  nature3  that, 
despite  all  the  long  privations  of  jail,  and  the  severe  trial  of  separate  confinement,  would, 
nevertheless,  many  of  them,  as  we  knew,  return  to  their  former  practices  immediately  they 
were  liberated.  Granted,  said  we  to  ourselves  (forgetting,  in  our  reveries,  to  continue  our 
observations  of  the  passing  objects))  that  some  would  be  honest  if  society  would  but  cease  to 
persecute  them  for  their  former  crimes.  Still  many,  we  were  aware,  were  utterly  incapable  of 
reformation,  for  figures  prove  to  us  that  there  is  a  certain  per  centage  among  the  criminal 
class  who  are  absolutely  incorrigible.  Nevertheless,  the  very  fact  of  there  heinff  such  a  per 
centage,  and  this  same  perversity  of  nature  being  reducible  to  a  law,  seemed  to  us  to  rank  it 
like  lunacy,  among  the  inscrutable  decrees  of  the  All- Wise,  and  thus  to  temper  our  indigna- 
tion with  pity.  Then  we  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  tearM  homes  that  these  wretched 
people  had  left  outside  their  prison  walls,  for,  hardened  as  we  may  fancy  them,  they  and  theirs 
are  marked  by  the  same  love  of  kindred  as  ourselves — such  love,  indeed,  being  often  thQ 
only  fthannftl  left  open  to  their  heart ;  and,  moreover,  how  sorely,  in  punishing  the  guilty,  WQ 
are  compelled  to  punish  the  innocent  also.* 

We  were  suddenly  aroused  from  our  reverie  by  the  scream  of  the  early  goods'  train,  and 
preeently  the  long  line  of  railway  wagons  came  rattling  and  rumbling  across  the  viaduct  over 
the  street,  the  clouds  of  steam  from  the  engine  seeming  almost  an  iron  gray  colour  in  the 
darkness. 

The  next  minute  we  were  at  the  Model  Prison,  Pentonville ;  but  as  the  warders  were 
not  yet  assembled  outside  the  gate,  and  we  saw  bright  lines  of  Ught  shining  through  the 
cracks  over  and  under  the  door  of  one  of  the  neighbouring  shopS|  we  made  bold  to  knock  and 
claim  a  short  shelter  there. 

*  As  a  proof  that  no  *<  morbid  sentimentality"  gave  riie  to  the  above  remarki,  ve  wiU  quote  the  ibtUowing 
letter  ae  one  among  many  that  it  ie  our  lot  to  receive  :^ 

«  March  24th,  1856. 

"  So, — ^An  anxious  mother,  vho  has  an  unfortunate  son  now  about  to  be  liberated  from  the  convict 

prison,  Portsmouth,  is  veiy  desirous  of  obtaining  an  interview  with  jou  on  his  behalf,  and  would  feel  truly 

cratefiil  for  such  a  favour. — From  your  must  obedient  and  humble  senrant, 

««A.  8." 

Hcfe  is  another  illustration  of  the  fact,  that  one  guilty  man's  misery  involves  thsAof  many  innocent  people : — 

<*  March  19th,  1846. 
«8iB,— I  am  a  poor,  unibrtunate,  characterless  man,  who  have  returned  from  jail,  with  a  desire  to  earn 
an  honest  living  for  the  future,  and  X  make  bold  to  write  to  you,  begging  your  kind  assistanoe  in  my  present 


**  I  left  ^e  House  of  Correction  on  Wednesday  last,  12th  inst.,  after  an  incarceration  of  six  calendar 
"M^**»«^  to  which  I  was  sentenced  for  obtaining  money  by  means  of  representing  myself  as  a  solicitor,  and  to 
which  oflenee  I  pleaded  guilty.  My  prosecutors,  finding  that  I  was  induced  to  conmiit  myself  through 
poverty,  would  gladly  have  withdrawn  from  the  case,  but  could  not,  being  bound  over. 

«*  Omning  home,  I  found  a  wife  and  five  children  depending  upon  me  for  support^the  pariah  having  at 
once  stopped  the  relief^  and  the  army  work  (at  which  they  earned  a  few  shillings}  having  ffdlen  off  alto* 
gether ;  tiierefore  I  am  in  a  most  distressed  position,  not  having  clothes  out  of  pledge  to  go  after  employ- 
ment in,  or  I  doubt  not  but  that  I  could  get  employment,  as  I  have  a  friend  who  would  beoome  surety  for  me 
in  a  situation. 

**  U,  therefore,  yon  can  render  me  any  assistance,  you  will  indeed  confer  a  favour  on.  Sir,  your  very 
oMieDt  servant, 

"  J.  B." 


124  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

It  happened  to  be  a  cofEee-shop.  We  found  the  little  room  in  a  thick  fog  of  smoke  horn 
the  newly-lighted  fire,  and  the  proprietor  busy  making  the  morning's  supply  of  the  "  best 
Mocha  " — ^possible;  at  a  penny  a  cup. 

We  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  presently  the  shopkeeper  apprised  us  that  the  warders  were 
beginning  to  assemble ;  and  truly,  on  reaching  the  gateway  once  more,  we  found  a  group  of 
some  two  dozen  officers  waiting  to  be  admitted  to  the  prison. 

Presently  the  outer  door  was  opened,  when  the  warders  passed  into  the  court-yard  and 
stood  upon  the  broad  flight  of  steps,  in  a  group  round  the  glass  door  leading  to  the  entrance- 
hall.  Here  they  reckoned  among  themselves  as  to  whether  they  were  all  assembled,  and 
finding  that  one  or  two  were  wanting,  the  rest  looked  up  at  the  dock  and  said,  **  Oh,  it 
wants  five  minutes  to  the  quarter  yet." 

*'  They  are  safe  to  be  here,"  said  one  to  us,  privately ;  ''  for  there's  a  heavy  fine  if  a  man 
isn't  true  to  his  time."  Sure  enough,  the  next  moment  the  two  missing  warders  entered  the 
yard,  and  the  glass  door  being  opened,  we  all  proceeded,  in  company  with  one  of  the  principal 
warders — ^marked  by  the  gold  lace  band  round  his  cap— into  a  small  room  on  the  left-hand 
side  of  the  passage. 

'<  The  chief  warder  sleeps  here,  sir,"  said  the  officer  whom  the  governor  had  kindly 
directed  to  attend  us  through  the  day,  and  to  instruct  us  upon  all  the  details  of  the  prison. 

Tbere  was  no  sign  of  bed  in  the  room,  and  the  only  indication  we  had  that  the  chief 
officer  had  passed  the  ni^t  in  the  building  was,  that  he  was^^  in  the  act  of  slipping  on  his 
coat  as  we  entered  the  apartment. 

A  large  iron  safe,  let  into  the  wall  of  this  room,  was  now  unlocked,  and  a  covered  tray,  or 
drawer,  that  was  not  unlike  an  immense  wooden  portable  desk,  was  withdrawn  and  carried 
into  the  lobby,  while  the  contents  jangled  so  loudly  with  the  motion,  that  it  was  not  difficult 
to  surmise  that  in  it  the  officers'  keys  were  kept.  Here  it  was  placed  upon  a  chair,  and, 
when  opened,  revealed  some  twenty-eight  bunches  of  large  keys  hanging  upon  as  many 
different  hooks. 

These  were  distributed  by  one  of  the  principal  warders  to  the  several  officers  throughout 
the  building,  and  this  done,  we  were  once  more  conducted  into  the  interior  of  the  prison, 
where  we  found  the  gas  still  burning  in  the  corridors  and  the  lights  shining  on  the  polished 
asphalte  floors,  in  long  luminous  lines,  like  the  lamps  in  the  streets  reflected  upon  the  pave- 
ment on  a  wet  night. 

The  blue  light  of  early  dawn  was  now  just  beginning  to  show  through  the  skylights 
of  the  long  arcades,  but  hardly  had  we  noticed  the  cold  azure  look  of  the  coming  day, 
contrasting,  as  it  did,  with  the  warm  yellow  light  of  the  gas  within,  than  the  corridois 
began  to  hum  again  with  the  booming  of  the  clock-tower  bell,  ringing,  as  usual,  at  half-past 
five,  to  call  the  officials.^ 

We  walked  with  the  warder  down  the  several  corridors,  and,  as  we  did  so,  the  officers  on 
duty  proceeded  to  carry  the  bread  and  cocoa  round  to  the  prisoners  who  were  about  to  leave 
that  morning  for  the  public  works  at  Portsmouth.  And  then  the  halls  rang,  now  with  the 
rattling  of  the  trucks  on  which  the  breakfast  was  being  wheeled  from  cell  to  cell,  and  now 
with  the  opening  and  shutting  of  the  little  trap  in  each  cell -door,  through  which  the  food 
was  given  to  the  prisoner  within ;  the  rapid  succession  of  the  noises  telling  you  how  briskly 
and  dexterously  the  work  was  done. 

<<  You  see  those  clothes,  and  tables,  and  chairs  outside  the  cell-doors,  there  ? "  said  the 
warder,  as  he  led  us  along  the  corridors ;  **  they  belong  to  men  who  have  attempted  to  break 
out  of  other  prisons,  so  we  leave  them  nothing  but  their  bed  and  bare  walls  for  the  night. 
Kow  there,  at  that  door,  you  perceive,  are  merely  the  clothes,  and  shoes,  and  tools  of  the 
prisoner  within ;  he's  one  of  the  bricklayers  who  has  worked  out  in  the  grounds,  so  we  trust 
such  as  him  with  nothing  but  the  flannel  drawers  they  sleep  in  from  nine  at  night  tiU 
six  in  the  morning.   Oh,  yes,  sir !  we  are  obliged  to  be  very  particular  here,  for  the  men  have 


PENTOmriLLE  PBISON.  125 

toolfl  giTeii  them  to  work  with,  and  therefore  we  make  them  put  all  sach  articles  outside  their 
cell-doon  just  before  they  go  to  bed ;  but  when  a  man  is  a  notoriously  desperate  prison- 
breaker,  we  don't  eren  allow  him  so  much  as  a  tin  can  for  his  soup,  for  we  know  that,  if  we 
did  00,  he  would  probably  convert  the  wire  round  the  rim  into  a  pick-lock,  to  open  his  door 
YeSy  sir,  conTicts  are  mostly  very  ingenious  at  such  things." 

By  l^iis  time  we  had  reached  the  end  of  the  ward,  where  stood  a  small  counting-house- 
like deek,  partitioned  off  from  the  other  part  of  the  corridor. 

**  This  IB  the  warders'  office,"  our  informant  continued,  **  and  the  clock  you  see  there,  in 
fixmt  of  it,  is  the  'tell-tale.'  There  is  one  such  in  each  ward.  It  has,  you  observe,  a  number 
of  i>egB,  one  at  every  quarter  of  an  hour,  projeoting  like  cogs  from  round  the  edge  of  the  dial- 
plate,  which  is  here  made  to  revolve  iostead  of  the  hands.  At  the  side,  you  perceive,  there's 
a  string  for  pulling  down  the  small  metal  tongue  that  stands  just  over  the  top  peg,  and 
the  oonsequenoe  is,  that  unless  the  officer  who  is  on  duty  in  the  night  comes  here  on  his 
Toxmds  preciitiif  at  the  moment  when  that  top  peg  should  be  pushed  down,  it  will  have  passed 
from  under  .the  tongue,  and  stand  up  as  a  register  of  neglect  of  duty  against  him.  There  are 
a  number  of  these  clocks  throughout  the  prison,  and  the  warders  have  to  pull  some  of  the 
p^8  at  the  quarters,  some  at  the  half-hours,  and  others  at  the  hours.  They  are  all  set  by 
the  large  time-piece  in  the  centre,  and  so  as  just  to  allow  the  officer  to  go  from  one  ward  to 
the  other." 

''  If  a  man's  bell  rings  in  the  night  ?  "  asked  we. 

"  Why,"  was  the  ready  answer,  ''the  trap  of  his  cell^door  is  let  down,  and  the  officer  on 
duty  thrusts  in  a  bull's-eye  lantern  so  as  to  see  what  is  the  matter ;  the  prisoner  makes  his 
complaint,  and,  if  sick,  liie  chief  warder  is  called,  who  orders,  if  he  thinks  it  necessary,  the 
infirmary  warder  to  come  to  him.  There  are  four  warders  on  duty  every  night,  from  ten  till 
ax  the  next  morning,  and  each  of  the  four  has  to  keep  two  hours'  watch." 

*«*  Ikparture  of  (htwiets. — Scarcely  had  our  attendant  finished  his  account  of  ,the  night 
dudee,  when  a  large  town-crier^s  bell  clattered  through  the  building.     This  was  the  quarter- 
to-siz  Bommons  to  wake  the  prisoners;  and,  five  minutes  afterwards,  the  bell  was  rung  again 
to  call  the  officers  a  second  time. 

!llie  chief  warder  now  took  up  his  station  in  the  centre  corridor,  and  saying  to  the  officer 
near  him,  "Turn  down ! "  the  big  brass  beU  once  more  rattled  in  the  ears,  whereupon  a 
stream  of  brown-clad  convicts  came  pouring  from  out  their  cells,  and  marched  at  a  rapid  pace 
along  the  northern  corridor  (A)  towards  the  eentre  of  the  building.  These  were  some  of  the 
prisoners  who  were  about  to  leave  for  the  public  works  at  Portsmouth.  The  smiles  upon 
their  tacee  said  as  much. 

"  Pall  in ! "  cried  the  chief  warder,  and  in  a  moment  the  whole  of  the  men  drew  them- 
selves up,  like  soldiers,  in  a  line  across  the  centre  corridor,  each  holding  his  registry-card 
dose  iq)  at  his  breast ;  but  now  the  deep  cloth  peaks  to  their  prison  caps  were  bent  up,  and 
no  longer  served  as  a  mask  to  the  face. 

Hardly  was  this  over  before  another  brown  gang  of  prisoners  hastened  from  the  southern 
corridor  (D),  and  drew  themselves  briskly  up  in  the  rear  of  the  others. 

Then  the  chief  warder  proceeded  to  call  over  the  registered  number  and  name  of  each 
convict,  whilst  one  of  the  principals  stood  by  to  check  the  card  as  the  name  was  cried  out 
and  directly  this  was  finished,  the  gang  was  made  to  **  face  "  and  march,  through  the  glass 
doors,  into  the  entrance  hall. 

Here  they  were  drawn  up  on  one  side  of  the  passage ;  then  an  officer  cried,  in  a  military 

tone,  *'  Tonx  up  your  right-hand  cuffs,  all  of  you !"  and  thereupon  the  warders  proceeded 

to  fiutoi  round  each  of  their  wrists  one  of  the  bright  steel  handcuffs  that  were  ranged  upon  a 

litde  table  in  the  lobby.   This  done,  a  stout  steel  chain  was  reaved  through  each  of  the  eyelet 

9 


126  THE  GBJEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

holes  attached  to  iho  cuEb,  and  some  ten  or  a  dozen  of  the  prisoners  thus  strong  together. 
When  the  first  detachment  was  chained  to  each  other,  another  half-score  went  through  the 
same  operation,  whilst  the  previous  string  of  prisoners  moved  down  towards  the  end  of  the 
passage,  each  pulling  a  different  way,  like  coupled  hounds,  and  the  chain  grating  as  they 
dragged  one  another  along. 

"We  followed  the  wretched  fellows  to  the  door,  to  watch  the  expression  of  their  faces  when 
they  heheld  the  three  omnihuses  waiting  in  the  court-yard  to  cany  them  to  the  Terminus  of 
the  South-TVestem  Eailway.  As  the  men  stood  ranged  along  the  passage  heside  the  doorway, 
many  of  them  craned  their  necks  forward  to  get  a  peep  at  the  vehicles  without,  smiling  again 
as  they  beheld  them. 

''  Yes,  sir,  they  like  it  well  enough,"  said  our  attendant,  who  was  still  at  our  elbow ; 
''it's  a  great  change  for  them — a  great  change — rafter  being  nine  months  in  one  place." 

''Are  you  pleased  to  go  away,  my  man  ?"  said  we,  to  the  one  nearest  the  door. 

"  Oh>  yes ! "  replied  he,  in  a  country  accent.  He  had  been  convicted  of  sheep-stealing, 
and  the  agricultural  class  of  convicts,  the  prison  authorities  all  agree,  is  the  best  disposed  of 
the  men  who  come  under  their  charge.  As  the  prisoner  spake  the  words,  we  could  see 
his  very  eyes  twinkle  again  at  the  prospect  of  another  peep  at  the  fields. 

"  What  have  you  got  there  ?"  cried  an  officer,  in  a  commanding  tone,  to  one  of  the 
gang,  who  had  a  bundle  of  something  tied  in  a  handkerchief. 

**  They're  books,  sir;  hymn-books  and  tracts  that  the  chaplain  has  allowed  mc  to  have," 
replied  the  prisoner  in  a  meek  tone. 

"  That  man  yonder,"  whispered  a  warder  to  us,  "  two  off  from  the  one  with  tho  books, 
has  passed  thirty-eight  years  of  his  life  in  prison,  and  he's  only  forty-seven  years  old." 

"  Eemember,  men,"  said  the  chief  warder,  addressing  the  prisoners  before  Ihey  passed 
into  the  court-yard,  "  the  officer  who  goes  with  you  has  power  to  speak  well  of  you ; 
and  the  first  thing  that  will  be  asked  of  him  at  Portsmouth  will  be,  '  How  have  the  men 
behaved  on  tho  way  down  ?*  So  do  you  fill  take  care  and  have  a  good  character  from  him, 
for  it  will  serve  you  where  you  're  going." 

"  Now,  warder  Corrie !"  the  chief  officer  adds  to  the  warder  on  duty ;  and  instantly  the 
doors  are  unlocked,  and  the  three  strings  of  prisoners  are  let  out  into  the  court-yard,  one 
after  the  other — the  foremost  man  of  each  dragging  at  the  chain  to  poll  the  others  after  him, 
and  those  in  the  rear  holding  back  so  as  to  prevent  their  wrists  being  suddenly  jerked  for- 
wards, while  the  iron  links  almost  crackle  again  as  they  reave  to  and  fro. 

The  omnibuses  waiting  in  the  court-yard  were  the  ordinary  public  vehicles,  such  as  one 
sees,  every  day,  streaming  through  the  streets  to  the  Bank ;  and  perched  high  on  the  little 
coach-box  sat  the  usual  seedy  and  would-be  *'  fast"-looking  driver,  whilst  beside  the  door, 
instead  of  the  customary  placard  of  "  6d.  all  the  way,"  was  pasted  on  each  carriage  a  large 
sheet  of  paper,  inscribed  either  1,  2,  or  3,  for  the  occasion. 

The  prisoners  went  scrambling  up  the  steps  of  the  vehicles,  drag^g  at  the  chain  as 
before,  while  the  officers  in  attendance  cried  to  those  who  himg  back  to  keep  off  the  strain — 
"  Come,  move  en  there  behind — ^will  you?" 

"When  the  omnibuses  were  filled  with  their  ten  or  twelve  prisoners,  an  officer  entered  each, 
and  seated  himself  near  the  doorway,  whereupon  the  chief  warder  proceeded  to  tho  steps  of 
the  vehicles  one  after  another,  and  asked — "  Now,  warder,  how  many  men  have  you  got  ?" 
"  Ten !"  was  shouted,  in  reply,  from  the  interior  of  one  carriage,  and  "  Twelve !"  from  another. 
After  which  one  of  the  principal  warders— distinguished  by  the  gold-lace  band  round  his 
cap — ^mounted  the  box  of  the  first,  and  sat  down  beside  the  driver. 

"  He  goes  with  them,  sir,  to  clear  the  bridges,"  whispered  our  attendant ;  and  scarcely  had 
he  spoken  the  words  before  there  was  a  cry  of  "  All  right ! — go  on !"  and  instantly  the 
huge,  massive  gates  that  open  out  upon  the  stately  porch  in  front  of  the  prison  were  thrown 
back,  and  wc  could  see  the  light  of  early  morning  glittering  through  the  squares  of  the  port- 


FENTONYILLE  PEISON.  127 

cuUui  witiiout.  Then  the  stones  clattered  with  the  patter  of  the  iron  hoofs  and  rumble  of 
the  wheels ;  and  one  could  observe  the  heads  of  the  prisoners  all  in  motian  within  the  Yehide 
— some  looking  through  the  doorway  back  upon  the  prison,  and  others  peeping  through  the 
windows  at  the  comparatiycly  new  scene  outside  the  walls. 

And|  it  must  be  ccmfessed,  there  was  not  one  tearful  eye  to  be  noted  among  that  unfortunate 
convict  troop  ^  on  the  contrary,  every  check  was  puckered  with  smiles  at  the  sense  that  they 
were  bidding  adieu  to  the  place  of  their  long  isolation  from  the  world. 

We  would  cheerfully,  had  it  be^  possible,  have  travelled  with  the  prisoners  to  their 
destbaation  at  Portsmouth ;  for,  to  the  student  of  human  nature,  it  would  have  been  a  high 
lesson  to  have  seen  the  sudden  delight  beam  in  every  face  as  the  omnibus  passed  by  some 
familiar  scene,  or,  may-be,  the  dwellings  oi  their  friends  ot  ldndred>  by  the  way;  and,  as  the 
railway  train  darted  vvith  than  through  the  country,  to  have  watched  the  various  emotions 
play  in  their  countenances  as  they  beheld  once  more  the  green  fields,  and  river,  and  the  hiUd 
and  woods,  and  envied,  perhaps,  the  very  sheep  and  cattle  grazing  at  liberty  upon  the  plains. 

"  Still,"  said  we  to  ourselves,  as  we  mused  mournfully  after  the  departure  of  the  convict 
vehicles,  **  the  reality  doubtlessly  would  be  wholly  unlike  our  preconceptions  of  the  scene ;" 
for  vrith  such  men  as  those  we  had  watched  away  there  is  often  a  mere  vacuity  of  mind — a  kind 
of  waking  droaminess-^a  mental  and  moral  anaesthesia,  as  it  were,  that  renders  them  insen- 
sible to  the  more  delicate  imprc^ons  of  hnman  nature,  so  that  the  beauties  of  the  outer,  and 
indeed  inner,  worid  are  almost  wasted  upon  them,  and  it  becomes  half  sentimentalism  to 
imagine  tiiat  their  duller  brains  would  be  moved  in  the  same  maimer  as  our  own.  Neverthe- 
less, we  must  not,  on  the  other  hand,  believe  this  class  of  people  to  be  utterly  callous  to 
every  tender  tie,  or  indeed  the  ruder  physical  pleasures  of  external  life.  We  ourselves  have 
seen  a  body  of  such  beings  melted  to  tears  as  the  chaplain  touched  feelingly  upon  their  separa- 
tion from  their  families ;  and  they  would  be  little  removed  from  polypes — ^mere  living 
stomachs — ^if  after  nine  long  months'  entombment,  fts  it  were,  in  separate  cells,  they  did  not 
feel,  upon  going  back  into  the  world  of  light  and  colour,  almost  the  same  strange  thrill 
tingling  through  their  veins  as  moved  lazarus  himself  when  summoned  by  the  trumpet- 
tongue  of  Christ  from  out  his  very  grave. 

Some  there  are,  however,  who  think  and  speak  of  these  wretched  men  as  very  dogs — ' 
creatures  fit  only,  as  one  of  our  modem  philosophers  has  preached,  to  be  shot  down  and  swept 
into  the  dust-bin.  But  sm-ely  even  ho  who  has  seen  a  dog,  after  it  has  been  chained  night  and 
day  close  to  its  kennel,  and  rendered  dangerously  furious  by  the  continual  chafing  of  its  collar, 
burst  off  with  a  spasmodic  energy  in  every  limb  directly  it  was  let  loose,  and  go  bounding 
along  and  springing  into  the  air,  as  it  wheeled  round  and  roimd,  gasping  and  panting  the 
while,  as  if  it  could  not  sufficiently  feel  and  taste  the  exqtiisite  delight  of  its  freedom — ^he 
who,  we  say,  has  watched  such  a  scene,  must  have  possessed  a  nature  as  callous  even  as 
the  wretched  convicts  themselves,  could  he  have  witnessed  them  pass  out  of  those  prison  gates 
into  the  outward  world  without  feeling  the  hot  tears  stinging  his  eyes,  and  without  uttering 
in  his  heart  a  faint  '*  God  speed  you." 

How  is  it  possible  for  you,  or  ourselves,  reader,  to  make  out  to  our  imaginations  the 
terrors  of  separate  confinement  ?  Sow  can  we,  whose  lives  are  blessed  with  continual  liberty, 
and  upon  whose  will  there  is  scarcely  any  restraint — ^we,  who  can  live  among  those  we  love, 
and  move  where  we  list — ^we,  to  whom  the  wide  world,  with  its  infinite  beauties  of  sunshine 
and  tint,  and  form,  and  air,  and  odour,  and  even  sound,  are  a  perpetual  foimtain  of  health 
and  joy ;  how,  we  say,  can  ice  possibly  comprehend  what  intense  misery  it  is  to  be  cut  off 
from  all  such  enjoyments— to  have  our  lives  hemmed  in  by  four  white  blank  walls — to  see  no 
faces  but  those  of  task-masters— to  hear  no  voice  but  that  of  commanding  officers — ^to  bo 
denied  all  exercise  of  will  whatever — and  to  bo  ponverted  into  mere  living  nutomatn, 
forced  to  do  the  bidding  of  others  ? 
9« 


128  THE  GREAT  WOBXD  OF  LONDON. 

If  you  hare  ever  lain  on  a  sick-hed,  day  after  day  and  week  after  week,  till  yon  knew 
every  speck  and  tiny  crack  of  the  walls  that  surrounded  you — ^if  you  have  seen  the  golden 
lustre  of  the  spring  sun  shining  without,  and  heard  the  voices  of  the  birds  telling  their  love 
of  liberty  in  a  very  spasm,  as  it  were,  of  melody,  and  then  felt  the  unquenchable  thirst  that 
comes  upon  the  soul  to  be  out  in  the  open  air ;  and  if  you  remember  the  grateful  joy  you  have 
experienced  at  such  times  to  have  Mends  and  relations  near  you  to  comfort  and  relieve  your 
sufferings,  not  only  by  their  love  and  care,  but  by  reading  to  you  the  thoughts  or  fancies  of  the 
wisest  and  kindest  minds,  then  you  may  perhaps  be  able  to  appreciate  the  subtle  agony  that 
must  be  endured  by  men  in  separate  confinement — ^men,  too,  who  are  perhaps  the  most  self- 
willed  of  all  God's  creatures,  and  consequently  likely  to  feel  any  restraint  tenfold  more  irksome 
than  we ;  and  men  whose  untutored  minds  are  incapable  of  knowing  the  charms  of  intellectaal 
culture  or  occupation;  and  who,  therefore,  can  only  fret  and  chafe  under  their  terrible  imprison- 
ment, even  as  the  tameless  hysena  may  be  seen  at  the  beast-garden  for  ever  fretting  and 
chafing  in  its  cage. 

%*  Cleaning  the  Prison, — ^It  was  now  only  six  o'clock,  and  as  we  returned  from  the 
court-yard  to  the  corridors,  we  heard  the  chief  warder  cry,  "  Unlock !"  and  instantly  the 
officers  attached  to  the  different  wards  proceeded  to  pass  rapidly  from,  cell-door  to  cell-door, 
with  their  keys  in  their  hands,  turning  the  locks  as  they  went,  and  the  noise  resounding 
throughout  the  long  and  echoing  corridors  like  the  dick  of  so  many  musket-triggers.  Then 
the  doors  began  to  bang,  and  the  metal  pail-handles  to  jangle,  till  the  very  prison  seemed 
suddenly  roused  out  of  its  silent  sleep  into  busy  life. 

As  we  passed  up  and  down  the  wards,  we  saw  the  prisoners  in  their  flannel  drawers  oome 
to  the  door  to  take  in  their  clothes,  and  the  tub  to  wash  their  cell ;  and,  on  glancing  in  at 
the  doorway,  we  caught  sight  of  the  long,  narrow  hammock  slung  across  the  cell,  just  above 
the  ground,  and  the  dark  frame  of  the  loom  showing  at  the  back. 

The  next  moment  a  stream  of  some  dozen  or  two  prisoners  poured  frx)m  the  cells,  carrying 
their  coats  on  their  arms,  and  drew  themselves  up  in  two  flies  across  the  centre  corridor. 
Then  we  heard  the  warder  cry,  **  Cleaners,  face ! — Cooks,  face ! — ^Bakers,  face ! "  whereupon  the 
men  wheeled  round  with  almost  military  precision,  and  retired,  some  to  wash  the  entrance 
passages  and  offices,  others  to  help  in  the  kitchen,  and  others  in  the  bakehouse. 

By  this  time  (ten  minutes  past  six),  the  prison  was  all  alive,  and  humming  like  a  hive 
with  the  activity  of  its  inmates.  Some  of  the  convicts,  clad  in  their  suits  of  mud-brown 
cloth,  were  out  in  the  long  corridors  sweeping  the  black  asphalte  pavement  till  it  glistened 
again  as  if  polished  with  black-lead.  Others,  in  the  narrow  galleries  above,  were  on  their 
knees  washing  the  flags  of  slate  that  now  grew  blue-black  around  them  with  the  water ; 
others,  again,  in  the  centre  corridor,  were  hearthstoning  the  steps,  and  making  them  as  white 
as  slabB  of  biscuit-china ;  and  others,  too,  in  their  cells,  cleaning  the  floors  and  fdmiture 
there.  A  warder  stood  watching  the  work  on  each  of  the  little  mid-air  bridges  t^t 
connect  the  opposite  storeys  of  every  corridor,  whilst  other  officers  were  distributed  through* 
out  the  building,  so  as  to  command  the  best  points  for  observing  the  movements  of  the 
prisoners. 

Our  attendant  led  us  to  an  elevated  part  of  the  building,  so  that  we  might  have  a  bird's- 
eye  view  of  the  scene ;  and  assuredly  it  was  a  strange  sight  to  look  down  upon  the  long  arcade- 
like  corridors,  that  were  now  half-fogged  with  the  cloud  of  dust  rising  from  the  sweepers* 
brooms,  and  witness  the  bustle  and  life  of  that  place,  which  on  our  entrance  seemed  as  still  as 
so  many  cloisters ;  while  the  commingling  of  the  many  different  sounds — ^the  rattling  of  pails, 
the  banging  of  doors,  the  scouring  of  the  stones,  the  rumbling  of  trucks,  the  tramping  of  feet 
up  the  metal  stairs,  all  echoing  through  the  long  tunnels — added  greatly  to  the  peculiarity  of 
the  scene. 

"Ah,  sir,"  said  our  attendant  warder,  ''everything  is  done  with  great  precision  here; 


PENTONYILLE  PRISON.  129 

tliere'8  just  so  manj  minutes  allowed  for  each  part  of  the  work.  You  will  notice,  sir,  that 
it  will  take  from  twelve  minutes  to  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  wash  either  side  of  the  huildiug ; 
and  directly  t^e  clock  comes  to  twenty-five  minutes  past  six,  we  shall  hegin  to  unlock  the 
opposite  side  of  the  corridors  to  that  where  the  men  are  now  at  work — when  a  new  set  of 
deaners  will  come  out,  and  the  present  ones  retire  into  their  cells.  This  is  done  to  prevent 
communication,  which  would  he  almost  sure,  to  take  place  if  the  men  worked  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  galleries  at  the  same  time.  For  the  cleaning,"  continued  our  communicative 
friend,  "  each  gallery  contrihutes  five  men  to  each  side,  or  ten  in  all,  and  each  ward  gives  one 
man  to  the  centre  corridor,  and  each  corridor  four  men  for  sweeping  helow." 

The  officer  now  drew  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  the  hands  of  the  clock  were  pointing 
to  the  time  he  had  mentioned,  and  that  the  men  who  had  heen  at  work  along  one  side  of 
the  galleries  had  all  finished,  and  withdrawn.  Then  hegan  the  same  succession  of  noises — 
like  the  clicking,  as  we  have  said,  of  so  many  musket-triggers — indicating  the  unlocking 
of  the  opposite  cells ;  and  we  could  see,  whence  we  stood,  the  officers  hastening  along 
the  corridors,  unfastening  each  door,  as  they  went,  with  greater  rapidity  than  even 
lamplighters  travel  from  lamp  to  lamp  along  a  street;  and  immediately  afterwards  we 
beheld  a  fresh  batch  of  cleaners  come  out  into  each  gallery,  and  the  sweepers  below  cross 
over  and  begin  working  under  them,  whilst  the  same  noises  resounded  through  the  building 
as  before. 

A  few  moments  after  this  the  big  brass  hand-bell  clattered  once  more  through  the  building. 
This  was  the  half-past  six  o'clock  summons  for  the  prisoners  to  commence  work  in  their 
cells,  and  soon  afterwards  we  saw  the  "  trade  instructors"  going  round  the  several  wards, 
to  see  that  the  men  had  sufficient  materials  for  their  labour ;  whilst,  in  a  few  minutes,  the 
lower  wards  echoed  with  the  rattling  of  the  looms,  and  we^could  hear  the  prolonged  tapping  of 
the  shoemakers  up  above,  hammering  away  at  the  leather,  so  that  now  the  building  assumed 
the  busy  aspect  of  a  large  factory,  giving  forth  the  same  half-bewildering  noise  of  work 
and  machinery. 

The  next  part  of  the  cleansing  operations  was  the  gathering  the  dust  from  the  cells,  and 
this  was  performed  as  rapidly  and  dexterously  as  the  other  processes.  A  convict,  carrying  a 
large  wicker  basket  lined  with  tin  (such  as  is  ordinarily  used  for  dinner  plates),  went  before 
one  of  the  officers,  who  held  a  dust-pan  in  his  hand,  and  as  the  warder  imlocked  each  cell- 
door  on  his  round,  and  thrust  his  pan  within,  the  prisoner  in  the  cell  emptied  the  dust,  which  he 
had  ready  collected,  into  the  officer's  pan,  closing  the  door  unmediately  afterwards,  whilst  the 
convict  bearing  the  basket  stood  a  few  paces  in  advance  of  the  warder,  so  as  to  receive  the 
contents  of  his  pan  when  filled.  This  process  was  performed  more  rapidly  than  it  can  be 
told,  and  so  quickly,  indeed,  that  though  we  walked  by  the  side  of  the  officer,  we  had 
hardly  to  halt  by  the  way,  and  as  we  went  the  corridor  rang  again  with  the  twanging  of  the 
prisoners'  dust-pans,  thrown,  as  they  were  emptied,  one  after  another,  out  of  their  cells. 

On  our  return  from  watching  the  last-mentioned  operation,  we  found  the  corridors  almost 
empty  again — ^the  cleaners  having  finished  their  work,  and  retired  to  their  cells,  and  the 
building  being  comparatively  quiet.  It  was,  however,  but  a  temporary  lull;  for  a  few 
moments  after,  the  seven  o'clock  bell  rang,  and  this  was  the  signal  for  **  double-locking," 
whereupon  the  same  trigger-like  noise  pervaded  every  part  of  the  building. 

"Each  cell-door,  you  see,  sir,  is  always  on  the  single  lock,"  said  our  guide;  ''but 
before  the  warders  go  to  breakfast  (aud  the  last  beU  was  the  signal  for  their  doing  so),  the 
prisoners' doors  and  every  outlet  to  the  building  is  'double-shotted'  for  the  sake  of  security." 

Scarcely  had  our  attendant  communicated  the  intelligence  to  us  before  the  work  was 
done^  and  the  warders  came  thronging  to  the  spiral  staircase,  and  went  twisting  round  and 
round,  one  after  another,  as  they  descended  to  their  breakfast  in  the  mess-room  below. 

%♦  2^  PrUm  Breakfast— Yrom  seven  to  half-past  the  corridors  of  Pentonville  Prison 


130  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

are  aa  deserted  as  Burlington  Arcade  on  a  Sunday,  and  nothing  is  heard  the  while  but  the 
clacking  of  the  prisoners'  looms,  and  the  tapping  of  the  oonyict-shoemakerB'  hammers,  and 
occasionally  the  ahaip  ''ting-ng-ng!"  of  the  gong  in  connection  with  the  oellsy  for  sam- 
moning  the  solitary  warder  left  in  attendance. 

"If  you  like,  sir,  we  will  now  go  below  to  the  kitchen  and  bakehouse,"  said  the  officer, 
who  still  remained  at  our  side,  "  and  see  them  preparing  the  breakfast  for  the  prisoners." 

Accordingly,  we  descended  the  spiral  staircase  into  the  basement;  and  after  traversing 
sundry  passages,  we  knew,  by  the  peculiar  smell  of  bread  pervading  the  place,  that  we  had 
entered  the  bakery.  There  was  but  little  distinctive  about  this  part  of  the  prison;  for  we 
found  the  same  heap  of  dusty  white-looking  sacks,  and  the  same  lot  of  men,  with  the  flour, 
like  hair-powder,  cHnging  to  their  eyebrows  and  whiskers  (four  of  these  were  prisoners,  and 
the  other  a  free  man — "  the  master  baker  "  placed  over  them),  as  usually  characterises  such 
a  place.  It  was,  however,  infinitely  cleaner  than  all  ordinary  bakehouses ;  neither  were  the 
men  slip-shod  and  without  stockings,  nor  had  they  the  appearance  of  walking  plaster-easts, 
like  the  generality  of  journeymen  bakers  when  at  work.  Here  we  learnt  that  the  bread  of  the 
prison  was  unfermcnted,  owing  to  the  impossibility  of  working  ''  the  sponge  "  there  during 
the  night;  and  of  course  we  were  invited  to  taste  a  bit.  It  was  really  what  would  have 
been  considered  ''  o&ke  "  in  some  continental  states ;  indeed,  a  German  servant,  to  whom 
we  gave  a  piece  of  the  prison  loaf,  was  absolutely  amazed  at  the  EngUsh  prodigality,  and 
crying,  "  Wunder-scJUin!"  assured  us  that  the  "Edntff  von  Preussm^*  himself  hardly  ate  better 
stuff. 

From  the  bakery  we  passed  to  the  kitchen,  where  the  floor  was  like  a  newly-cleaned 
bird-cage,  with  its  layer  of  fresh  sand  that  crunched,  as  garden  walks  arc  wont  to  do,  beneath 
the  feet.  Here  was  a  strong  odour  of  the  steaming  cocoa  that  one  of  the  assistant  cooks  (a 
prisoner)  was  busy  serving,  out  of  huge  bright  coppers,  into  large  tin  pails,  like  milk-cans. 
The  master  cook  was  in  the  ordinary  white  jacket  and  cap,  and  the  assistants  had  white 
aprons  over  their  brown  convict  trowsers,  so  that  it  would  have  been  hard  to  have  told  that 
any  were  prisoners  there. 

The  allowance  for  break&st  '^  is  ten  ounces  of  bread,"  said  the  master  cook  to  us,  "  and 
three-quarters  of  a  pint  of  cocoa,  made  with  three-quarters  of  an  ounce  of  the  solid  flake,  and 
flavoured  with  two  oimces  of  pure  milk  and  six  drachms  of  molasses.  Please  to  taste  a  little 
of  the  cocoa,  sir.  It 's  such  as  you'd  find  it  difficult  to  get  outside,  I  can  assure  you ;  for 
the  berries  are  ground  on  the  premises  by  the  steam-engine,  and  so  we  can  vouch  for  its 
being  perfectly  pure." 

It  struck  us  as  strange  evidence  of  the  "  civilization  "  of  our  time,  that  a  person  must — 
in  these  days  of  "lie-tea,"  and  chicory-mocha,  and  alumed  bread,  and  brain-thickened  milk, 
and  watered  butter — ^really  go  to  prison  to  live  upon  unadulterated  food.  The  best  porter 
we  ever  drank  was  at  a  parish  union — ^for  the  British  pauper  alone  can  enjoy  the  decoction  of 
veritable  malt  and  hops ;  and  certainly  the  most  genuine  cocoa  we  ever  sipped  was  at  this 
same  Model  Prison,  for  not  only  was  it  made  of  the  unsophisticated  berries,  but  with  the 
very  purest  water,  too— water,  not  of  the  slushy  Thames,  but  which  had  been  raised  firom  an 
artesian  weU  several  hundred  feet  below  the  surface,  expressly  for  the  use  of  these  same 
convicts. 

'*  For  dinner,"  continued  the  cook,  "  the  rations  are — ^half  a  pint  of  good  soup,  four 
oimces  of  meat  every  day — ^beef  and  mutton  alternately — ^without  bone,  and  which  is  equal 
to  about  half  a  pound  of  uncooked  meat  with  an  ordinary  quantity  of  bone ;  besides  this 
there  are  five  ounces  of  bread  and  one  pound  of  potatoes  for  each  man,  except  those  working 
in  association,  who  have  two  pounds.  For  supper  every  prisoner  gets  a  pint  of  gruel,  made 
with  an  ounce  and  a  half  of  meal,  and  sweetened  with  six  drachms  of  molasses,  together 
with  five  more  ounces  of  bread,  so  that  each  convict  has  twenty  ounces  of  bread  throughout 
the  day. 


PENTONVILLB  PMSON.  131 


it 


Yonder  arc  some  of  the  ten-ounoe  loaves,  that  are  just  going  to  be  aerved  out  for  break- 
faat"  added  the  cook ;  and,  as  he  said  the  words,  he  pointed  to  a  slab  of  miniatore  half- 
qoartemsy  that  looked  not  nnlike  a  block  of  small  paving-stones  cemented  together.  "Any- 
thing additional,"  oontinned  the  cook,  "  is  ordered  by  the  medical  officer.  There  you  see, 
sir,  that  free  man  yonder  has  just  brought  in  some  extras ;  they're  for  a  prisoner  in  the 
infirmary.     It's  two  ounces  of  butter,  you  observe,  and  an  egg. 

'*  Yes,  sir,  that's  my  slate,"  added  the  man,  as  he  saw  us  looking  up  at  a  long  black 
board  that  was  nailed  against  the  wall  in  the  serving-room,  and  inscribed  with  the  letters 
and  figures  of  the  several  wards  of  the  prison,  together  with  various  hieroglyphics  that 
needed  the  cook  himself  to  interpret.  '^  On  that  board  I  chalk  up,"  he  proceeded,  **  the 
number  of  prisaners  in  each  ward,  so  as  to  know  what  rations  I  have  to  serve.  The  letter 
K  there,  underneath  the  figures,  signifies  that  one  man  out  of  that  particular  ward  is  at 
work  in  the  kitchen,  and  B,  that  one  prisoner  is  employed  in  the  bakehouse.  That  mark' 
up  there  stands  for  an  extra  loaf  to  be  sent  up  to  the  ward  it's  placed  under,  and  these  dots 
here  for  two  extra  meats ;  whilst  yonder  sign  is  to  teU  me  that  there  is  one  man  out  of  that 
part  of  the  building  gone  into  the  infirmary.  Yes,  sir,  we  let  the  infirmary  prisoners  have 
just  whatever  the  medical  officer  pleases  to  order — jelly,  or  fish,  or  indeed  chicken  if 
required." 

We  thai  inquired  what  was  the  diet  for  men  under  punishment. 

"  Why,  sir,"  answered  the  cook,  "  the  punishment  allowance  is  sixteen  ounces  of  bread 
per  diem,  and  nothing  else  except  water.  You  see  I  am  just  going  to  cut  up  the  rations  for 
the  three  prisoners  in  the  refractory  wards  to-day ;  and  so  I  take  one  of  these  twenty-ounce 
loaves,  and  cut  it  into  three,  and  let  the  prisoner  have  the  benefit  of  the  trifling  excess,  for 
six  ounces  for  breakfast,  five  for  dinner,  and  five  for  supper,  is  all  he's  entitled  to." 

'*  How  much,"  said  we,  *'  will  a  prisoner  lose  in  weight  upon  such  diet  P' 

"  Why,  I  have  known  men  to  come  out  as  much  as  four  or  five  pounds  lighter  after  three 
dayBof  it,"  replied  the  cook;  ''but  there's  a  register  book  upstairs  that  will  tell  you  exactly,  sir.* 
When  a  man  is  under  long  punishment,"  continued  the  cook,  *'  for  instance,  when  he  has 
got  twenty-eight  days,  he  has  full  rations  every  fourth  day,  and  is  then  found  to  gain  flesh 
upon  the  food." 

'*  I  have  known  some  prisoners  come  out  as  much  as  three  pounds  lighter  than  when  they 
were  first  locked  up,"  chimed  in  the  warder;  ''  though  it  depends  mainly  upon  the  temper 

*  We  were  afterwardi  &Tonrod  with  a  eight  of  the  above-named  regieter,  from  which  we  made  the 
foOowiog  eztraols  aa  to  the  weights  of  the  men  before  being  placed  upon  puniahment  diet,  and  at  the  expira- 
tion of  the  sentence : — 

JLtffiitttttA  If miber  of 

Pnaoocn  placed  in  Weight  of  FriBoner.  Weight  of  Priioner.          Number  of  Daye             A^wege  Loae  of 

darkeeUoA                   ongDlngiii.  on  coming  out  under  Punishment.         Weight  per  Diem. 
PoBJchmest  Diet. 

6,216  9  St.  21ba.               8  at  18  Ibi.  3  days.  1  lb. 

6,257  9st21ba.               8Bt.llIbe.  2    „  2ilbe. 

6,419  1 2  Bt                        11  ft.  1  libs.  1     „  8  lbs. 

6,257  9  St.  Not  Tet  oat  of  dark  MIL  6    „ 

The  abore  table  indicates  tbat  Ihe  main  loes  of  weigbt  occurs  upon  the  first  day^the  sererity  of  the 
ponialiaient  donbtlesaly  affecting  the  body  through  the  mind  leas  intensely  after  the  first  twenty-four  hours. 
We,  at  the  same  time,  were  allowed  to  inspect  the  sick  report  for  the  day  of  our  visit,  appended  to  which 
were  the  following  recommendations  of  the  medical  officer : — 

**  6,144,  A  1, 15,  to  have  one  pint  of  arrowroot  and  five  ounces  of  bread  for  dinner  per  diem,  and  to  keep 
eelL 

^  6,277,  D  I,  23,  to  haye  cocoa  for  supper  instead  of  grueL 

**  6,076,  A  III,  27,  to  go  to  the  infirmary*** 

Othen  were  to  be  off  trade,  others  to  keep  their  ooU.  ''If  the  doctor  suspects  a  man  to  be  scheming,*' 
wUi^erad  the  warder  to  ua,  aa  we  glanced  orer  the  aick  report,  **  ho  puts  him  on  low  diet ;  and  that  soon  brings 
him  to^  especially  when  he's  kept  off  his  meat  and  potatoes." 


132  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOITOON. 

of  the  men,  for  if  thej  fret  much  over  their  punishment  they  lose  the  more  in  weight;  and 
we  know  by  that  whether  the  pimishment  has  worked  upon  them  or  not." 

''Yes,  sir/'  said  the  cook,  "there  are  few  persons  that  can  hold -out  against  short 
commons ;  the  belly  can  tame  every  man.  Now  there's  that  man  in  A  3,  he  declared  that 
no  mortal  thing  should  pass  his  Hps,  and  that  he  meant  to  starye  himself  to  death ;  that 
was  the  day  before  yesterday,  but  last  night  he  was  forced  to  give  in,  and  take  his  grael. 
Ah,  sir,  it  takes  stronger-minded  men  than  they  are  to  hold  out  against  the  cravings  of  the 
stomach.  Just  dock  a  prisoner's  food,  and  it  hurts  him  more  than  any  '  cat'  that  could  be 
laid  across  his  back." 

It  was  nearly  half-past  seven,  and  the  warders  were  beginning  to  ascend  the  spiral  stair- 
case from  below,  and  the  corridors  to  rumble  with  the  rolling  of  the  trucks  along  the 
pavement,  and  that  of  the  '^  food-carriages"  along  the  tops  of  the  gallery  railings^  in  prepa- 
*  ration  for  the  serving  of  the  prisoners'  breakfast. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  nearly  three  hundred  and  seventy  convicts  in  the 
prison,  and  the  warder  had  told  us  that  the  rations  were  distributed  to  the  whole  of  these 
men  in  about  eight  minutes.  We  had  seen  sufficient  of  the  admirable  regulations  of  this 
prison  to  satisfy  us  that  if  the  enormous  building  could  be  cleansed  from  end  to  end,  and  that 
in  a  manner  surpassing  all  private  establishments,  in  little  more  than  half  an  hour,  it  was 
quite  possible  to  accomplish  the  distribution  of  nearly  four  hundred  breakfEists  in  less  than 
ten  minutes.  Still  we  could  not  help  wondering  by  what  division  of  labour  the  task  was 
to  be  achieved,  especially  when  it  is  remembered  that  each  of  the  four  corridors  is  as  long 
as  an  arcade,  and  as  high  as  the  nave  of  a  large  church,  having  double  galleries  one  above 
the  other. 

While  we  were  speculating  as  to  the  process,  the  brass  hand-bell  was  rung  once  more, 
to  announce  that  the  prisoners'  break£Sast  hour  (half-past  seven)  had  arrived ;  and  the  bell 
had  scarcely  ceased  pealing  before  the  two  oaken  flaps  let  into  the  black  asphalte  pavement  at 
the  comers  of  the  central  hall,  so  that  each  stood  between  two  of  the  four  corridors,  raised 
themselves  as  if  by  magic,  and  there  ascended  from  below,  through  either  flap,  a  tray  laden 
with  four  large  cans  of  cocoa,  and  two  baskets  of  bread.  These  trays  were  raised  by  means 
of  a  ''  lifting  machine,"  the  bright  iron  rods  of  which  stretched  from  the  bottom  to  the  top  of 
the  building,  and  served  as  guides  for  the  friction-roUers  of  the  trays.  No  sooner  were  the 
cans  and  bread-baskets  brought  up  from  below,  than  a  couple  of  warders  and  trade  inatructoniy 
two  to  either  of  the  adjoining  corridors,  seized  each  half  the  quantity,  and  placing  it  on  the 
trucks  that  stood  ready  by  the  flaps,  away  the  warder  and  instructor  went,  the  one  wheeling 
the  barrow  of  cocoa  along  the  side  of  the  corridor,  and  the  other  hastening  to  open  the  small 
trap  in  each  cell-door  as  he  served  the  men  with  the  bread. 

This  is  done  almost  as  rapidly  as  walking,  for  no  sooner  does  the  trade-instructor  apply 
his  key  to  the  cell-door  than  the  little  trap  falls  down  and  forms  a  kind  of  ledge,  on 
which  the  officer  may  place  the  loaf,  and  the  prisoner  at  the  same  time  deposit  his  mug  for 
the  cocoa.  This  mug  the  warder  who  wheels  the  cocoa  truck  Alls  with  the  beverage,  ladling 
it  out  as  milkmen  do  the  contents  of  their  paOs,  and,  when  full,  he  thrusts  the  mug  back 
through  the  aperture  in  the  cell-door,  and  closes  the  trap  with  a  slam. 

The  process  goes  on  in  each  ground-floor  of  the  four  corridors  at  one  and  the  same  time, 
and  scarcely  has  it  commenced  before  the  beU  of  the  lifting  apparatus  tinkles,  and  the 
emptied  tray  descends  and  brings  up  another  load  of  steaming  cans  and  bread.  But  these  are 
now  carried  up  to  the  galleries  of  the  flrst  floor,  and  there  being  received  by  the  warders  as 
before,  the  contents  are  placed  upon  the  food-carriages,  which  are  not  unKke  the  small 
vehicles  on  tram-roads,  and  reach  from  side  to  side  of  each  arcade,  the  top  of  the  iron 
balcony  to  the  galleries  serving  as  rails  for  the  carriage  wheels  to  travel  along. 

The  distribution  here  goes  on  in  the  same  rapid  manner  as  below,  and  while  this  is  taking 
place  the  lifting  bell  tinkles  again,  and  the  trays  having  descended  once  more,  up  they 


PEirroinnLLE  peisok  135 

oome  a  third  time  laden  with  a  fresh  supply  of  food^  which  now  monnts  to  the  upper  floor, 
and  bdng  there  receiTed  in  the  same  manner  as  preyionalyy  is  immediately  distributed  by 
means  of  the  same  kind  of  food-carriages  throughout  the  upper  ward. 

The  sound  of  the  rumbling  of  the  trucks  and  food-carriages  as  the  wheels  trayel  along 
the  p&Tement  and  the  rails,  the  tinkliug  of  the  beU  of  the  lifting  apparatus,  and  the  rapid 
Buocessicm  of  reports  made  by  the  slamming  of  the  traps  of  the  360  cell-doors,  are  all  neces- 
sary in  order  to  giye  the  reader  a  vivid  sense  of  the  rapidity  of  the  distribution — ^which  is 
assoredly  about  as  curious  and  busy  a  prooess  as  one  can  well  witness,  every  portion  of  the 
duty  being  conducted  with  such  ease,  and  yet  wit^  such  marvellous  de^atch,  that  there  is 
hardly  a  finer  instance  of  the  feats  that  can  be  accomplished  by  the  division  of  labour  than 
fhis  same  serTing  of  nearly  400  breakfasts  in  less  than  ten  minutes. 

%*  The  Befract&ry  JFkrda  and  Priam  Punishments, — ^A  few  moments  after  the  above  busy 
scene  has  oome  to  an  end,  the  prison  is  as  still  and  quiet  as  the  City  on  the  Sabbath.  The 
warders  have  nearly  all  gone  below  to  "  clean  themselves,"  the  looms  have  ceased  clacking,  and 
the  shoemakers  tapping,  and  even  the  gong  in  connection  with  the  cells  is  no  longer  heard 
to  sound  in  the  corridors.    For  a  time  one  would  fancy  the  whole  prison  was  asleep  again. 

Presently,  however,  the  glass  doors  at  the  end  of  the  passage  are  thrown  open,  and  the 
governor  enters  with  his  keys  in  his  hand.  Then  one  of  the  warders  who  remains  on  duty 
hurries  on  before  him,  crying,  **  Govemor-r-r !  Ck>vemor-r-r !  Governor-r-r !"  as  he  opens 
each  of  the  ceU-doors.  The  chief  prison  authority  walks  past  the  several  cells,  saying, 
as  he  goes,  "  All  right ! — all  right !"  to  each  prisoner,  who  stands  ready  drawn  up  at  the 
door,  as  stiff  as  a  soldier  in  his  sentry-box,  with  his  hand  raised,  by  way  of  salute,  to  the 
flide  of  his  cap ;  whilst  no  sooner  have  the  words  been  spoken  than  the  door  is  closed  again, 
and  the  building  echoes  with  the  concussion. 

This  done,  the  governor  proceeds  to  visit  the  refractory  cells ;  but  before  accompanying 
him  thither,  let  us  prepare  the  reader  with  an  idea  of  the  nature  of  such  places. 

The  refi^wjtory,  or,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  "  dark  cells,"  are  situate  in  the  basement 
of  corridor  C.    It  was  mid-day  when  we  first  visited  these  apartments  at  Pentonville. 

"  light  a  lantern,  Wood,"  said  the  chief  warder  to  one  of  the  subordinate  officers,  '*  so 
that  this  gentleman  may  look  at  the  dark  cells." 

The  Ifflnp  lighted  at  noon  gave  us  a  notion  of  what  we  were  to  expect,  and  yet  it  was  a 
poor  conception  of  what  we  saw. 

Descending  a  small  flight  of  stairs,  we  came  to  a  narrow  passage,  hardly  as  wide  as  the 
area  before  second-rate  houses ;  and  here  was  a  line  of  black  doors,  not  unlike  the  entrances 
to  the  front  cellars  of  such  houses.    These  were  the  refractory  cells. 

The  officer  who  accompanied  us  threw  back  one  of  the  doors,  which  turned  as  heavily  on 
its  hinges,  and  gave  forth  the  same  hollow  sound,  as  the  massive  door  of  an  iron  safe.  The 
interior  which  it  revealed  was  absolutely  and  literally  ** pitch  dark."  Not  a  thing  was  visible 
in  Hie  cell ;  and  so  utterly  black  did  it  look  within,  that  we  could  not  believe  but  that  there 
was  another  door  between  us  and  the  interior.  The  officer,  however,  introduced  his  lantern, 
and  then  we  could  see  the  rays  diverging  from  the  bull's-eye,  and  streaking  the  darkness 
with  a  bright,  luminous  mist,  as  we  have  all  seen  a  sunbeam  stripe  the  dusky  atmosphere  of 
some  cathedral.  The  light  from  the  lantern  fell  in  a  bright,  Jack-a-dandy-Hke  patch  upon  the 
white  walls,  and  we  then  discovered,  as  the  warder  flickered  the  rays  into  the  several  comers  of 
the  chamber,  that  the  refractory  cell  was  about  the  size  of  the  other  cells  in  which  the  men 
lived,  but  that  it  was  utterly  bare  of  all  furniture,  excepting,  in  one  comer,  a  smaU  raised 
bench,  with  a  sloping  head-piece,  that  was  like  a  wooden  mattress,  placed  upon  the  ground. 
This,  we  were  told,  was,  with  a  rug  for  covering,  the  only  bed  allowed. 

"  Would  you  like  to  step  inside,"  asked  the  warder,  "  and  see  how  dark  it  is  when  the 
door  is  closed?" 


136  THE  GEE  AT  WORLD  OP  LOKDON". 

We  entered  the  teirible  place  with  a  shudder,  for  there  is  something  intenselj  homble 
in  absolute  darkness  to  all  minds,  confess  it  or  not  as  they  may ;  and  as  the  warder  shut  the 
door  upon  us — ^and  we  felt  the  cell  walls  shake  and  moan  again,  like  a  tomb,  as  he  did  so 
— ^the  utter  darkness  was,  as  Milton  sublimely  says — "  vmble.*^  The  eyes  not  only  saw,  but 
felt  the  absolute  negation  of  their  sense  in  such  a  place.  Let  them  strain  their  utmost,  not 
one  luminous  chink  or  crack  could  the  sight  detect.  Indeed,  the  very  air  seemed  as  imper- 
vious to  vision  as  so  much  black  marble,  and  the  body  seemed  to  be  positivdy  encompassed 
with  the  blackness,  as  if  it  were  buried  alive,  deep  down  in  the  earth  itself.  Though  we 
remained  several  minutes  in  the  hope  that  we  should  shortly  gain  the  use  of  our  eyes,  and 
begin  to  make  out,  in  the  thick  dusk,  bit  after  bit  of  the  apartment,  the  darkness  was  at  the 
end  of  the  time  quite  as  impenetrable  as  at  first,  so  that  the  continual  straining  of  the  eye- 
balls, and  taxing  of  the  brains,  in  order  to  get  them  to  do  their  wonted  duty,  soon  produced 
a  sense  of  mental  fatigue,  that  we  could  readily  understand  would  end  in  conjuring  up  aU 
kinds  of  terrible  apparitions  to  the  mind. 

*'  Have  you  had  enough,  sir  ?"  inquired  the  warder  to  us,  as  he  re-opened  the  door,  and 
whisked  the  light  of  his  lantern  in  our  eyes. 

An  owl,  suddenly  roused  from  its  sleep  in  the  daylight,  could  not  have  been  more  dazzled 
and  bewildered  with  the  glitter  of  the  rays  than  we.  The  light  was  now  as  blinding  to  us 
as  had  been  the  darkness  itself,  and  such  was  the  dilatation  of  the  pupils  that  we  had  to  rub 
our  eyes,  like  one  newly  waked  from  sleep,  before  we  could  distinguish  anything  on  leaving 
the  place ;  and  when  we  mounted  the  steps  and  entered  the  corridor  once  more,  the  air  had 
the  same  blue  tint  to  us  as  that  of  early  morning. 

''Well,  sir,  I  think,"  said  the  warder,  in  answer  to  our  question  as  to  how  many  intract- 
ables  the  prison  contained,  **  we  have  altogether  about  three  or  four  per  cent,  of  refractory 
people  here,  and  they  are  mostly  the  boys  and  second  probation  men,  as  we  call  them. 
Separate  confinement  in  Pentonville  Prison  for  nine  months  now  constitutes  the  first  or 
probationary  stage  to  the  convict ;  and  then  he  is  transferred  to  the  pubHc  works,  either  at 
Woolwich,  or  Portsmouth,  or  Portland,  as  the  case  may  bci,  which  forms  the  second  stage. 
But  if  the  man  won't  conform  to  discipline  at  the  public  works,  why  then  he  is  sent  back 
to  us  again,  and  such  people  constitute  what  we  call  'second  probation  men.'  Some  of 
them  are  very  difficult  to  deal  with,  I  can  assure  you,  sir.  The  Glasgow  boys  in  the  prison 
are  perhaps  the  worst  class  of  all.  I  can  hardly  say  what  is  the  reason  of  their  being  so  bad. 
I  don't  think  it  is  the  lax  discipline  of  the  Glasgow  prison ;  but  the  race,  you  see,  is  half 
Scotch  and  half  Irish,  and  that  is  a  very  bad  mixture,  to  my  mind.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
sheep-stealers  and  the  convicts  who  have  been  farm-labourers  are  about  the  easiest  managed 
of  all  the  prisoners  here.  Then,  what  we  call  the  first-class  men,  such  as  those  who  have 
been  well  educated,  like  the  clerks,  and  forgers,  and  embezzlers,  and  so  forth,  give  us  little  or 
no  trouble ;  and,  generally  speaking,  the  old  jail-birds  fall  into  the  discipline  very  well,  for 
they  know  it  is  no  use  knocking  their  head  against  the  wall.  The  boys,  however,  who  come 
here  for  the  first  time,  are  sad,  troublesome  feUows,  and  will  stand  an  awful  deal  of  punish- 
ment surely  before  their  temper  is  broke." 

We  had  visited  the  dark  cells  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  day  which  we  spent 
within  the  prison.  At  that  time  there  were  four  prisoners  confined  in  the  refractory  ward, 
and  we  found  a  boy,  with  an  officer  in  attendance,  turned  out  into  the  passage  to  wash 
himself  at  the  sink,  and  to  fold  up  the  rug  he  had  to  cover  himself  with  during  the  night.  He 
had  been  sentenced  to  one  day's  confinement  in  the  dark  cell,  we  were  told,  for  communicating 
in  chapel. 

"  Any  complaint?"  said  the  warder.  "None,"  was  the  brief  reply.  Then  the  bull's- 
eye  was  thrust  into  the  cell,  and  the  Hght  flirted  through  every  part  of  the  chamber  so  as  to 
show  whether  or  not  any  depredations  had  been  committed.    The  boy  gave  us  a  sullen  look 


PENTONVILLE  PRISON.  137 

as  we  passed  by  him,  and  the  warder  told  us,  while  we  mounted  the  steps,  that  when  the  lad 
had  finished  washing,  another  prisoner  would  be  let  out  to  perform  the  same  operation. 

Some  hour  and  a  half  after  this,  during  the  governor's  morning  visit,  we  went  once 
more  to  the  same  place.  The  officer,  who  preceded  the  governor,  threw  open  the  doors  one 
by  one,  crying,  '^Govemor-r-r!"  asbefoie,  and  the  prisoners  stood  drawn  up  at  the  cell- 
doors  as  the  others  had  done.  • 

''Please  to  release  me,  sir,"  said  the  first  under  punishment,  *'  and  I'll  promise  you  I 
won't  do  so  again." 

''We  never  remit  any  punishment  here,"  was  the  governor's  brief  answer;  and  imme* 
diately  the  door  of  the  dark  cell  was  closed  upon  the  prisoner  once  more. 

The  second  man  had  a  less  dogged  and  surly  expression,  and  the  governor  exclaimed,  as 
his  quick  eye  detected  the  signs  of  yielding  temper  in  his  face,  "  Oh !  you're  coming  to  your 
senses  are  you  ?  Well,  I  am  glad  to  hear  it ;  and  you'll  be  more  carefdl  for  the  fature." 

The  last  but  one  under  confinement  was  "  a  bad  fellow/'  the  governor  told  us,  and  was  in 
fi>r  six  days ;  whilst  the  last  of  all  had  been  sent  back  from  the  works  at  Portland  as  incor- 
rigible. These  two  were  merely  inspected,  and  asked  whether  all  was  right ;  but  not  a 
word  was  spoken  in  return  by  the  men,  who  looked  the  very  picture  of  bitter  sullenness.  So 
the  heavy  doors  closed  upon  them,  and  the  wretched  creatures  were  again  shut  up  in  their 
living  tombs. 

"  Ah !  sir,"  said  one  of  the  warders  to  us,  at  a  later  part  of  the  day,  "  some  of  the  convicts 
are  wry  difficult  to  deal  with.  I  remember  once  we  had  forty  of  the  worst  fellows  sent  to 
US  here — ^the  forty  thieves  we  used  to  call  them.  They  were  men  who  had  gone  the  round 
of  the  public  prisons  and  the  "  huUEs,"  and  some  of  them  had  been  sent  back,  before  their 
aentenoes  expired,  firom  the  public  works  at  Gibraltar.  When  they  came  in,  the  governor 
was  told  that  one  of  the  men,  who  was  in  chains,  was  so  dangerous  that  it  wouldn't  be  safe  to 
aUow  him  anything  but  a  wooden  spoon  to  eat  with.  Well,  sir,  the  governor  spoke  to  them 
all,  and  said  if  they  would  only  obey  orders  they  should  be  treated  like  other  men ;  but  if  they 
would  not  conform  to  discipline,  why  he  was  prepared  to  compel  them.  So  he  made  no  more 
ado  but  ordered  the  irons  to  be  took  off  the  most  dangerous  of  them ;  and  sure  enough  that  man 
became  quite  an  altered  character.  However,  we  didn't  like  having  such  people  here,  I 
can  teU  you;  for  we  always  expected  an  attempt  would  be  made  to  break  prison  by  the  lot 
of  them  all  at  once;  and  whenever  many  of  them  were  brought  together  (as  in  the  chapel, 
for  instance),  a  sufficient  number  of  officers  was  kept  under  arms,  within  call,  ready  to  act 
in  case  of  need.  But,  thank  goodness,  all  went  well,  and  the  greater  part  of  those  very  men 
not  only  left  here  with  good  chaiycters,  but  merely  a  few  of  them  had  to  be  punished.  But 
another  prisoner,  not  of  the  same  gang,  but  a  returned  convict  who  had  been  in  Norfolk 
Island,  was  much  more  difficult  to  manage  than  even  these ;  and  I  remember,  a&esr  he  had 
been  confined  in  the  refractory  cell,  he  swore,  on  being  let  out,  that  he  would  murder  any 
man  who  attempted  to  come  down  to  him  there.  He  had  made  a  spring  at  the  officer  near 
him,  and  would  assuredly  have  bitten  his  nose  off  had  the  warder  not  retreated  up  the  stairs, 
so  thai  the  man  was  down  below  all  alone,  vowing  and  declaring  he  would  have  the  life  of 
the  first  person  that  tried  to  get  him  up.  WeU,  you  see,  we  knew  we  could  master  him 
directly  we  had  him  in  the  corridor;  but  as  we  couldn't  take  his  life,  and  he  could  <mr$,  he 
was  more  than  a  match  for  us  down  in  the  refiractory  ward.  Accordingly  the  governor  had  to 
devise  some  means  by  which  to  get  him  up  stairs  without  hurting  him— and  how  d'ye  think 
he  did  it,  sir  ?  Why,  he  got  some  cayenne  pepper  and  burnt  it  in  a  Aimigating  bellows,  and 
then  blew  the  smoke  down  into  the  ward  where  the  fellow  was.  The  man  stood  it  for  some 
time;  but,  bless  you,  he  was  soon  glad  to  surrender,  for,  as  we  sent  in  puff  after  puff,  it  set 
him  coughing  and  sneezing,  and  rubbing  his  eyes,  and  stamping  with  the  pain,  as  the  fdmes 
got  not  only  into  his  throat  and  up  his  nose,  but  under  his  eyelids,  and  made  them  smart, 
till  the  tears  ran  down  his  cheeks  as  if  he  had  been  a  little  child.    Then  immediately  after- 


138  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LOMDON. 

wards  we  threw  ourselves  upon  him,  and  effectually  secured  him  against  doing  any  forther 
harm.  Oh !  no,  sir,"  added  the  officer,  with  a  smile  and  a  knowing  shake  of  the  head,  **  he 
never  tried  the  same  game  on  after  that;  one  dose  of  cayenne  l>epper  smoke  was  quite 
enough  for  him,  I  can  assure  you. 

''  When  we  first  came  here,"  continued  our  informant,  *^  we  used  to  have  some  weapons 
to  .prevent  a  prisoner  &om  injuring  any  of  us  in  his  cell ;  for,  you  see,  we  are  ohligod  to 
allow  the  convicts  knives  and  hammers  when  they  are  employed  as  shoemakers,  so  that  they 
may  do  their  work  in  their  ccUs.  Well,  some  one  or  other  of  the  prisoners  used  occasionally 
to  get  furious,  and  swear  that  they  would  stick  us  with  their  knives  or  knock  our  brains 
out  with  their  hammers  if  we  dared  to  come  near  them,  and  we  could  see  by  their  expres- 
sions that  they  meant  it  too.  But  how  do  you  think  we  used  to  do  in  such  cases  ?  Why, 
one  of  us  used  to  put  on  a  large  shield  that  was  made  of  basket-work,  well  stuffed  and 
covered  with  leather,  and  almost  big  enough  to  screen  a  person's  whole  body  behind  it;  and 
when  the  officer  saw  a  good  opportunity,  he  would  suddenly  rush  into  the  cell,  thrusting  the 
shield  right  in  front  of  the  prisoner,  and  whilst  the  fellow  was  taken  aback  with  this,  another 
officer  would  dart  in,  holding  a  long  pole  with  a  large  padded  crutch  like  an  enonnous  pitch«> 
fork  at  the  end  of  it ;  and  thrusting  this  at  the  upper  part  of  the  prisoner's  body,  be  would 
pinion  him  right  up  against  the  wall.  IN'o  sooner,  toO)  would  this  be  done  than  another 
officer,  bearing  a  similar  crutch,  but  somewhat  smaller,  would  make  a  drive  at  the  fellow's 
legs,  and  pin  these  in  a  like  manner ;  whUst  immediately  that  was  accomplished,  the  other 
warders  would  pour  in  and  oveipower  the  man.  We  have,  however,  now  done  away  with 
all  such  things,  for  we  find  that  if  a  convict  is  rebellious  he  is  much  sooner  brought  to 
himself  by  putting  him  on  low  diet  than  by  all  the  fetters  in  tlic  world.  Only  stop  his  meat 
and  potatoes,  as  the  cook  said  to  you  this  morning,  sir,  and  he'U  soon  give  in,  I  worrant." 

Later  in  the  day  we  were  present  when  two  piisoners,  who  had  been  reported  for  refine* 
tory  conduct,  were  brought  in  for  examination  before  the  governor  in  his  office.  The  report- 
book  lay  upon  the  table,  and  the  governor  pointed  out  to  us  that  the  offence  of  the  one  was 
refusal  to  wash  the  slates  and  go  to  chapel,  and  that  of  the  other  wilful  disturbance  of  the 
congregation  in  the  chapel  by  clapping  his  hands. 

The  former  of  these  had  been  liberated  from  the  dark  cell  only  that  morning.  He  was, 
comparatively  speaking,  a  mere  boy,  and  entered  the  governor's  office  in  a  determined 
manner.  But  seeing  us  there  he  became  frightened,  mistaking  us,  we  were  told,  for  some 
awftd  government  authority.  So  when  the  governor  asked  him  what  he  had  to  say,  and 
whether  he  admitted  the  charge,  he  nodded  his  head  sullenly  in  assent,  and  was  immediately 
marched  off  to  the  dark  cell  once  more.  • 

The  next  offender  was  the  church-disturber.  He  was  one  of  the  Glasgow  boys  of 
whom  we  have  before  spoken,  and  had  been  sent  back  to  Pentonville  ftom  Parkhurst.  He 
had  already  been  punished  four  times  before.  His  face,  which  was  almost  flat  and  broad, 
was  remarkable  for  the  extreme  self-will  depicted  in  him,  and  he  had  that  peculiar  thick  buU- 
ncck  which  is  so  characteristic  of  stubbornness  of  temper. 

On  being  asked  what  he  had  to  say,  he  stoutly  denied  the  charge,  declaring  that  it  was  all 
false,  and  that  the  officer  had  a  spite  against  him.  "Then,"  said  the  governor,  **  let  the  officer 
state  his  case."  The  warder  stepped  forward  and  declared  that,  during  praytjrs  that  morning, 
the  boy  had  clapped  his  hands  loudly  at  the  end  of  the  service.  The  officer  said  he  was  sure 
it  was  the  prisoner,  because  the  lad  stood  upon  a  stool  in  the  chapel,  being  short,  and  he 
had  his  eyes  fixed  upon  him  while  he  committed  the  offence. 

"  Well,*'  said  the  governor,  "  what  have  you  to  say  now?" 

"  I  say  it  aint  true,"  muttered  the  boy,  shaking  his  head,  and  fro^niing  with  a  detcf- 
taincd  air. 

*'  Take  him  away  to  the  dark  cell,'*  said  the  governor ;  and  he  proceeded  to  write  in  the 
book  that  his  punishment  was  to  be  three  days'  confinement  in  the  refractory  ward  upon 


PENTONVILLE  PEI80N. 


189 


pimiahment  diet,  "with  loss  of  stripe  aad  remoyal  firom  the  A  diviBion>  which  is  the  part  of 
the  prison  occupied  by  the  convicts  who  are  permitted  to  work  in  partial  association  after 
having  passed  nine  montlis  in  separation. 

**  Yon  see/'  said  the  goyemor,  taming  to  ns  when  the  boy  had  left,  "  I  am  obliged  to 
support  my  officers."* 

But  if  there  be  punishments  at  Pentom-illc,  there  are,  on  the  other  hand,  rewards ;  and 
many  of  the  penal  inflictions  for  breaches  of  discipline  and  riotous  conduct  consist  merely  in 
the  withdrawal  of  the  premiums  given  for  good  behaviour.  '*  Do  yon  find,"  said  we,  some 
time  back  to  one  of  the  turnkeys  of  another  prison  (Newgate),  as  he  walked  with  us  through 
the  ancient  "  press-yard  " — where  formerly  prisoners  who  had  refused  to  plead  at  the  bar, 
in  order  to  save  their  property,  suffered  the  "peine  forte  et  dure,"  or,  in  other  words,  were 
"  pressed  to  death  '* — "  Do  you  find,"  we  asked,  "  that  you  have  the  inmates  of  the  jail  under 
the  same  control  now  as  in  the  days  of  *  thumb-screws,'  and  '  gags,'  and  brandings  ?" 

"  I  think  we  have  greater  power  over  them,  sir,"  was  the  answer;  "  for  at  present,  you 
see,  we  cut  off  the  right  of  receiving  and  sending  letters,  as  well  as  stop  the  visits  of  their 
friends ;  and  a  man  feels  those  things  much  more  than  any  torture  that  he  could  be  put  to." 

The  prison  authorities  now-a-days,  therefore,  have  learnt  that  negative  punishments  are 
far  more  effective  \}ikaxL  pontile  ones.  But  as  these  same  negative  punishments  consist  merely 
of  the  deprivation  of  certain  privileges  or  enjoyments,  rather  than  the  infliction  of  actual 
cmeltieB,  it  is  essential  that  the  granting  of  such  privileges,  as  rewards  for  good  conduct, 
should  form  part  of  the  modem  prison  discipline. 

Accordingly,  in  Pentonvillo  Prison,  as  we  have  already  seen,  one  part  of  the  punishment 
consists  in  the  reduction  of  the  ordinary  diet  to  bread  and  water ;  whilst  another  form  of 
punishment,  to  which  we  have  before  alluded,  is  the  loss  of  the  red  stripe  or  stripes  decorating 

«  The  folloviog  is  an  epitome  of  the  punishments  in  this  prison  for  ono  entire  year  :-> 

LIST  OF  FUNI9HMBXT8  IN  PBNTONYILLI!  FB180N  DURING  1854. 


No.  of  PrisoBcrs          No.  of  Timea 

No.  of 

No.  of  Prisonen 

No.  of  Times 

No.  of 

Panished. 

Paniahed. 

Punishments. 

pjnUhed. 

Punished. 

Punishments. 

158 

Once 

158 

1        . 

11  times 

11 

43 

Twice 

86 

2        . 

12    „ 

24 

24 

Thrice 

72 

.       14    „ 

14 

13 

4  times     . 

52 

.       16     „ 

16 

7 

.        6    „         .        . 

35 

.       17    „ 

.        .        17 

4 

.         6    „         .        . 

24 

.      23    „ 

23 

4 

.       .        7    „        .        . 

28 

.       24     „ 

24 

1 

.        .        8    „         .        . 

8 

1 

.        .        9    „         . 

9 

263 

601 

The  oftneet  fur  which  the  prisoners  v^cro  punished  were  as  nnder : — 

149  were  for  disobedience  (such  as  refusing  to  work  or  attend  echool  or  exercise) ;  83  for  disturbing 
prison  by  shonting,  whistling,  or  singing  obscene  and  other  songs ;  102  for  misconduct  in  school,  snch  as 
talking,  whistling,  &c ;  33  for  obscene  communications  or  drawings  (on  books  and  chapeUstalls] ;  33  for 
miscondact  in  ehapel  daring  service ;  171  for  communicating  with  fellow-prisoners  (either  b}^  writing,  talking 
at  exercise,  or  by  knocking  on  cell- walls  or  through  water-pipes) ;  2  for  trying  to  send  letters  out  of  prison  ; 
64  for  wilfuUy  destroying  prison  property;  25  fSor  boring  holes  in  cell- window,  &c.;  9  for  assaulting 
officers ;  29  for  using  hod  language  to  officers,  &c. ;  6  for  false  charges  against  officers ;  30  for  fighting  and 
wrangling  with  fellow^prisonci-s  in  association ;  9  for  attempting  to  escape ;  3  for  proposing  to  other  prisoners 
to  escape ;  4  for  feigning  suicide ;  3  for  threatening  to  commit  ditto ;  4  fbr  dirty  cells ;  22  for  purloining  bread , 
meat,  &c ;  14  for  having  tobacco,  &c.,  in  possession. 

The  nature  of  the  ptmUhmenlt  for  the  above  offences  was  as  follows  :— 

634  were  confined  to  the  dark  cell  (292  of  these  with  punishment  diet,  and  244  with  ordinary  diet,  18  with 
Io«8  of  stripee,  and  10  with  loss  of  one  stripe) ;  40  of  these  534  were  so  confined  for  ono  day,  236  for  two  days^ 
249  for  throe  days,  4  between  five  and  ten  days,  and  4  between  ten  and  twenty-one  days.  11  were  confined 
to  the  light  cell  (9  with  punishment  diet,  and  2  with  ordinary  diet).  26  were  confined  to  their  own  cell  (19 
with  ordinary  diet,  and  7  with  their  secular  books  withdrawn).  18  were  withdrawn  from  working  in  asso** 
ciatioD,  and  7  from  school.  1  suffered  corporal  punishment  (36  lashes) ;  and  4  were  removed  from  the 
working  party  in  A  division. 


140  THE  GREAT  WOBXD  OF  LONDON. 

the  arm  of  those  who  have  conducted  themselTes  well  during  the  first  six  months  of  their 
incarceration.* 

Nor  is  this  badge  of  good  conduct  a  mere  honorary  distinction,  for  those  who  haye  obtained 
it  become  entitled  to  receive  a  certain  gratuity  for  tiieir  labour,  according  to  the  quantity  of 
work  done ;  and  only  the  best  behaved  among  these  are  removed  from  separate  confinement 
in  the  day,  and  allowed  to  work  in  association — a  privilege,  moreover,  which  entitles  them 
to  an  extira  pound  of  potatoes  at  dinner. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit,  there  was  about  8  per  cent,  of  the  prisoners  (or  29  in  368) 
working  together;  and  so  highly  is  this  indulgence  prized,  that  it  becomes  one  of  the  severest 
infiictions  to  send  an  associated  man  back  to  separate  confinement.  * 

Again,  only  well-conducted  prisoners  are  allowed  to  i^poeive  a  visit  from  their  MendB.f 

*  The  following  are  the  official  rules  and  regulatioiiB  conoemiDg  good  and  bad  conduct,  a  copy  of  which 
is  suspended  in  each  cell : — 

"  NOTICE  TO   CONVICTS  UNDEB  8ENTBNCS  OF  TRAlNBPORTATION  AND  PBNAX  8EBVITUDB. 

'*  Transportation  for  certain  offences  having  been  abolished  by  Act  of  Parliament,  and  certain  periods  of 
imprisonment  of  much  shorter  duration,  under  the  term  *'  penal  servitude,"  haying  been  substituted  in  place 
of  the  sentences  of  seven  and  ten  years*  transportation,  which  had  been  usually  awarded,  no  remission,  as  a 
general  rule,  of  any  part  of  the  term  of  penal  servitude  will  be  granted ;  the  period  of  detention,  in  place  of 
a  longer  sentence  of  transportation,  haying  been  settled  by  law.  The  Secretary  of  State  will,  however,  be 
prepared  to  consider  any  case  of  any  convict  whose  conduct  may  be  the  subject  of  special  recommendatioii. 
The  Secretary  of  State  is  also  desirous,  as  a  general  rule,  of  holding  out  encouragement  to  good  conduct  by 
establishing  successive  stages  of  discipline,  to  each  of  which  some  special  privileges  will  be  attached.  Goa- 
victs  of  good  conduct,  maintaining  a  character  for  willing  industry,  will  by  this  rule  be  enabled,  after  certain 
fixed  periods,  to  obtain  the  higher  stages,  and  gain  the  privileges  attached  to  them. 

<<  For  the  present,  and  until  further  orders,  the  following  rules  will  be  observed : — 

'*  All  convicts  under  sentence  of  penal  servitude  wiU  be  subjected  to  a  period  of  separate  oonfinement^ 
followed  by  labour  on  pubUc  works. 

''  Convicts  imder  sentence  of  transportation  will  be  subject  to  the  same  discipline  so  long  as  they  are 
imprisoned  in  this  country. 

"BEPARATB  CONFnnBUXNT. 

<<1.  Convicts,  as  a  general  rule,  will  be  detained  in  separate  confinement  for  a  period  of  nine  months 
from  the  date  of  their  reception  in  a  government  prison. 

'*  2.  Every  convict  who,  during  a  detention  of  six  months  in  the  prison,  may  have  conducted  himself  in  a 
satisfactory  manner,  will  be  allowed  to  wear  a  badge,  which  will  entitle  him  to  receive  a  visit  from  his  friends. 
A  second  badge,  with  the  privilege  of  a  second  visit,  wiU  be  granted  at  the  end  of  three  additional  months, 
provided  his  conduct  has  continued  to  be  satisfactory. 

**  3.  Convicts  wearing  badges  will  be  recommended  for  gratuities  to  be  placed  to  their  credit^  acoording  to 
the  scale  approved  by  the  Secretary  of  State. 

**  4.  In  the  event  of  a  convict  being  deprived  of  a  badge  througli  misconduct,  he  will,  at  the  tame  time, 
forfeit  all  advantages  he  had  derived  from  it,  including  the  gratuity  already  credited  to  him  (if  so  ordered). 
He  may,  however,  regain  the  forfeited  badge  after  an  interval  of  two  months  if  specially  recommended  by  tlM 
Governor  and  Chaplain. 

'*  5.  On  removal  of  convicts  from  separate  confinement  to  public  works,  they  will  be  placed  in  the  flnt, 
second,  or  third  class,  according  to  their  conduct,  attention  to  instruction,  and  industry.  This  dssaification 
will  affect  their  position  in  the  following  stages  of  their  servitude. 

<*  6.  Convicts  deemed  to  be  incorrigible,  will  be  specially  dealt  with." 

t  The  subjoined  are  the  regulations  respecting  such  visits : — 

'*  The  prisoner  has  leave  to  receive  one  visit  frx>m  his  friends,  provided^ 

<*  1st.  If  the  visit  is  made  within  one  month* 

'*  2nd.  If  the  prisoner  is  well  behaved  in  the  mean  time ;.— badly  behaved  prisoners  are  not  allowed  to  see 
friends  when  they  come. 

<<  3rd.  The  visit  to  last  only  fifteen  minutes. 

<'  4th.  Visitors  admitted  only  between  the  hours  of  2  and  4  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

"  5th.  No  visit  allowed  on  Sundays. 

<*  6th.  Such  of  the  above-named  friends  as  wish  to  visit,  must  all  attend  at  the  same  time,  and  produoe  this 
order.' 


PENTONYILLE  PRISON.  141 

Farther,  aaother  curiouB  priyilege  granted  to  well-conducted  prisoners  in  Pentonville,  is 
the  liberty  of  labouring;  for  so  terrible  is  separate  confinement  found  to  be,  without 
ooeupation,  that  one  of  the  forms  of  pxmishment  peculiar  to  this  prison  is  the  stoppage  of 
a  man^s  work,  and  forcing  him  to  remain  in  his  own  cell  in  a  state  of  idleness  throughout 
the  day. 

What  high  penal  refinement  is  here  shown,  in  making  the  feelings  of  monotony  and  vacuity 
of  mind  so  keen  a  pain  to  the  erratic  natures  of  criminals  (ever  bent  as  they  are  upon 
change  and  amusement)  that,  though  the  convicts  be  remarkable  for  their  innate  aversion  to 
labour  outside  the  prison  walls,  the  deprivation  of  work  within  them  becomes  a  means 
of  discipline  to  such  characters ! 

*^*  JSxm'ming  and  SeaUh  of  the  Prisoners, — At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  "  Model 
Prison*'  is  noisier  and  Mler  of  life  and  bustle  than  ever,  and  the  transition  from  the  silence 
during  break£B»t-time  to  the  sudden  outpouring  of  the  convicts  is  a  strongly-marked  feature 
of  the  place. 

No  sooner  does  the  clock  point  to  the  hour  above  mentioned,  than  the  bell  for  morning 
prayers  in  the  chapel  is  heard  booming  and  humming  overhead  throughout  the  resonant 
arcades,  and  instantly  the  cell-doors  are  successively  thrown  open,  and  the  brown-clad 
prifloners  stream  forth  from  every  part  of  the  building ;  above,  below,  on  this  side,  and  on 
that,  lines  of  convicts  come  hurrying  along  the  corridors  and  galleries  at  a  rapid  pace,  one 
after  the  other,  and  each  at  the  distance  of  some  four  or  five  yards  apart,  while  the  warders, 
who  stand  by,  watching  their  movements,  keep  crying  to  the  men  as  they  pass,  "  Now,  step 
out  there,  will  you — step  out!" 

This  is  accompanied  with  a  noise  and  clatter  that  is  as  bewildering  as  the  sight — the 
tramping  of  the  feet,  the  rattling  of  the  iron  staircases  by  the  bridges  as  the  prisoners  pass  up 
and  down  them,  the  slamming  of  the  cell-doors,  and  the  tolling  of  the  bell  overhead — all  keep 
up  such  an  incessant  commotion  in  the  brain  that  the  mind  becomes  half-distracted  with  what 
it  sees  and  hears.  Nor  does  the  tumult  cease  in  a  second  or  two,  for  as  it  takes  some  seven 
or  eight  minutes  to  empty  the  prison  when  frdl,  the  lines  of  convicts  streaming  along  from 
all  parts  of  the  building  seem  to  be  endless,  and  impress  you  with  the  idea  of  the  number 
being  positively  infinite. 

Moreover,  each  of  the  prisoners  is  not  only  clad  alike — and  brown  as  so  many  bees  pour- 
ing from  the  coimtless  cells  of  a  hive — but  every  one  wears  a  peculiar  brown  cloth  cap,  and 
tiie  peak  of  this  (which  is  also  of  cloth)  hangs  so  low  down  as  to  cover  the  face  like  a  mask, 
the  eyes  alone  of  the  individual  appearing  through  the  two  holes  cut  in  the  front,  and  seem- 
ing dbnost  like  phosphoric  lights  shining  through  the  sockets  of  a  skull.  This  gives  to  the 
prisoners  a  half-spectral  look,  and  though  they  have  hardly  the  same  hideous  appearance  as 
the  diver  at  the  Polytechnic,  with  his  big  hydrocephalous  head  and  glass- window  eyes, 
nevertheless  the  costume  of  the  men  seems  like  the  outward  vestment  to  some  wandering  soul 
rather  than  that  of  a  human  being ;  for  the  eyes,  glistening  through  the  apertures  in  the  mask, 
give  one  the  notion  of  a  spirit  peeping  out  behind  it,  so  that  there  is  something  positively 
terrible  in  the  idea  that  these  are  men  whose  crimes  have  caused  their  very  features  to  be 
hidden  from  the  world.  It  is  strange,  too,  how  different  the  convicts  look  under  such 
circumstances  from  the  ordinary  coarse-featured  men  seen,  in  the  chapel ;  for  at  Pentonville  the 
screening  of  the  faces  gives  a  kind  of  tragic  solemnity  to  the  figures,  and  thus  there  appears 
to  be  nothing  vulgar  nor  brutal  about  them. 

We  are  here  speaking  of  first  impressions  only,  for  after  a  time,  when  the  spectral  senti- 
ment has  worn  off,  the  imposition  of  these-  same  masks — though  originally  designed,  it  must 
be  confessed,  with  every  kindness  and  consideration  to  the  prisoners,  in  order  that  their  faces 
might  not  he  seen  in  their  shame— -cannot  but  be  regarded  as  a  piece  of  wretched  frippery, 
and  as  idle  in  use  as  they  are  theatrical  in  character ;  for  the  men  at  "the  Moder*  being  all 
10 


142  THE  GEEAT  WOBID  OF  LONDON. 

destined  either  for  transportatioiL  abroad,  or  fbr  labour  at  the  public  vorks  at  homoy  where 
no  such  masquerading  is  indulged  in,  it  becomeB  positivelj  silly  to  impose  snch  a  costume 
on  the  prisoners  as  a  means  of  preyenting  recognition  in  after  life,  since  all  such  restraints 
are  removed  during  the  latter  part  of  their  punishment.* 

At  the  same  hour  as  that  for  morning  service,  exercise  begins  in  the  ''  rope-walk,"  as  it 
is  called,  and  two  divisions  of  the  men,  who  then  come  pouring  forth  from  their  cells,  are  led 
off  for  airing  into  a  spacious  yard,  while  the  other  two  divisions  are  sent  into  the  chapel — 
the  prisoners  from  B  and  D  corridors  being  at  exercise  while  those  from  A  and  0  are  at 
prayers,  so  that  the  prison  at  this  hour  is  emptied  of  all  but  such  as  may  be  invalided  at  the 
time. 

Let  UB  follow  the  men  to  their  exercise  now,  and  reserve  the  scene  in  the  chapel  for 
future  description. 

At  Pentonville  there  are  five  exercising  yards,  and  it  will  be  seen,  on  reference  to  the 
bird's-eye  view  of  the  prison  given  at  page  116,  that  the  two  larger  yards,  which  are  for 
exercising  in  common,  and  called  the  "  rope-yards,"  are  situate  on  either  side  of  the  long 
entrance  hall  leading  from  the  portcullis  porch,  and  marked  by  a  series  of  ooncentric  rings, 
whilst  the  three  others  (which  are  for  exercising  apart)  lie  between  the  several  corridors, 
and  are  wheel-shaped,  the  several  radii,  or  spokes,  consisting  of  walls  or  partitions,  to 
separate  the  men  waUdng  there  one  from  the  other,  and  the  centre  serving  as  a  small 
''aigus,"  or  station,  for  a  warder,  whence  to  survey  the  whole  of  the  prisoners  at  one 
glance.  These  exercising  yards  are  numbered  in  rotation,  that  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
entrance  hall  being  called  l^o.  1,  and  that  on  the  right-hand  side  No.  5,  and  the  smaller 
private  yards  styled  No.  2,  8,  and  4,  respectively. 

The  men  who  were  put  to  exercise  at  the  hour  above  mentioned,  tamed  out  into  yard 
No.  1 ;  and  as  they  descended  a  small  flight  of  steps  a  warder  standing  there  cried  out,  **  Leit !" 
*'  Bight !"  according  to  the  appointed  station  of  the  convicts.  The  conoentrio  rings  here  con- 
sisted of  a  narrow  line  of  bricken  paving  let  into  the  soil,  and  on  this  lay  a  long  rope  knotted 
at  distances  of  fifteen  feet  apart.  Here  the  prisoners  took  up  their  station,  one  at  every 
knot,  all  with  masks  down,  and  with  a  warder  to  watch  over  each  of  the  drdes  of  men  at 
exercise,  so  as  to  prevent  all  communication  between  them  individually. 

When  the  whole  of  the  men  were  assembled  in  the  yard,  and  each  at  their  different 
stations,  holding  the  rope  in  their  hands,  the  principal  warder  cried  in  a  loud  voice, 
''Forwar-r-r-d ! "  and  instantly  the  whole  of  the  130  convicts  there  began  to  wheel  round 
and  round,  and  to  move  along  at  the  same  rapid  pace  as  if  they  were  so  many  circles  of 
lamp-lighters. 

There  was  a  sharp  easterly  wind  blowing  on  the  morning  of  our  visit  that  stnng  the  skin 
and  flooded  the  eyes,  as  it  swept  by,  and  made  one  really  envy  the  brisk  movements  of 
the  prisoners.  '*  Now,  move  on,  will  you — come,  move  on ! "  one  warder  would  cry  to  the 
flagging  ones.  "Step  out  there,  men,  step  out!"  another  would  exclaim,  as  the  convicts 
filed  rapidly  by  them. 

Presently  the  principal  warder  roared,  "  Ha-a-a-lt ! "  and  instantaneously  the  whole  of 
the  brown  rings  that  before  were  circling  round  and  round,  like  some  cavalcade  at  a  drcns, 
came  to  a  sudden  stop  with  almost  military  precision;  and  immediately  afterwards  the 
warder  shouted,  ''Face  about!"  whereupon  they  one  and  all  tamed  on  their  heels  and 

*  It  Ib  bat  light  to  add,  that  this  bit  of  priaon  foppery  is  to  be  abolished.  Colonel  Jebb,  is.  a  letter 
addreaaed  to  the  Under-Secretary  of  State,  qnotea  the  following  reaolution  oome  to  by  a  Board  of  Inqiiiry 
in  favour  of  its  diacontinnanoe :— *'  That  the  mask  or  peak  does  not  prevent  priaonen  from  xeoogniring 
each  other  in  the  priaon  ;  moreover,  that  aa  prisoners  see  each  other  before  they  are  brought  to  the  priaon^  oome 
in  considerable  bodies,  and  are  aaaembled  together  when  they  leave  the  prison,  it  would  be  desirable  to  discon- 
tinue it,  since  the  use  of  it  appears  calculated  to  depress  the  spirits  of  the  men,  without  obtaimng  any  oorrea- 
ponding  adyantage."— JS^^or^  an  ih$  Dueipline  and  Management  of  Conviet  Prmnt  for  th$  Tear  1853. 


PENTONVILLB  PRISON.  148* 

commenced  pacing  in  an  opposite  direction,  the  officers  crying  as  before,  *'  Step  ont,  men/'  and 
"  Move  on  there/'  as  they  one  after  another  went  striding  past  them. 

At  first  one  is  astonished  at  the  rapid  rate  at  which  the  prisoners  keep  moviag,  but  a 
reference  to  the  Goyemment  reports  tells  us  that  this  mode  of  exercise  has  been  adopted  after 
the  plan  pursned  at  Wakefield,  where  we  are  informed  the  prisoners  are  made  to  walk 
briskly  round  paved  paths,  forming  three  concentric  rings;  and  which  plan  has  been  introduced 
at  Pentonyille,  because,  as  Colonel  Jebb  says,  ^'  experience  has  shown  the  necessity  of  the 
greatest  precautions  in  the  administration  of  the  discipline  of  strict  separation,  in  order  to 
goard*against  its  tendency  to  depress  and  otherwise  affect  the  mental  energies  of  the 
prisoners." 

The  rapid  exercise,  therefore,  at  Pentonville  Prison  partakes  more  of  the  character  of  a 
liKiJriTig  to  a  drowsy  man,  than  an  airing  to  a  wakeM  one;  and  as  medical  instruc- 
tions enjoin  us  to  drag,  pinch,  kick,  or  indeed  to  resort  to  any  forcible  means  to  induce 
muscular  exercise  in  a  person  who  is  suffering  firom  an  opiate,  so  the  '< brisk  walking''  «t 
'*  the  Kodel"  is  intended  to  rouse  and  stir  the  men  out  of  the  depression  induced  by  separate 
confinement — to  shake  up  their  half-thickened  blood,  as  one  does  a  doctor's  draught  before  it 
can  be  made  to  do  its  duty. 

Indeed,  we  find  in  the  report  of  the  medical  officer  of  the  prison  (giyen  at  page  116), 
that  the  diseases  prevalent  at  Pentonville  are  precisely  those  which  are  known  to  arise  from 
undue  confinement — no  less  than  52  per  cent,  of  the  entire  disorders  consisting  of  dyspepsia 
and  constipation — so  that  out  of  a  total  of  1732  eases  requiring  medical  treatinen^  no  less 
than  1103  were  affections  of  the  organs  of  digestion. 

Nevertheless,  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  men  whom  we  saw  previous  to  their  departure 
for  Portsmouth  appeared  to  be  perfectiy  healthy,  and  to  be  in  no  way  subject  to  any 
depression  of  spirits.* 

*  Since  the  puUication  of  the  prerioufl  part  of  Thb  Gbsat  Wobld  of  London,  we  have  received  a  letter 
fiom  a  gentleman,  who  is  at  once  a  strenuous  and  weU-meaning  advocate  of  the  separate  system,  remonstrat- 
ing against  the  conclusions  we  have  drawn  as  to  the  operation  of  this  mode  of  prison  discipline ;  and  as  we 
omaelves  have  no  other  object  than  the  truth,  we  readily  append  his  remarks — ^which  are  worthy  of  eyery 
eooaderation,  as  well  from  the  character  as  position  of  the  writer-— so  that  the  pubUc  may  decide  fairly  upon 
the  subject  (1.)  He  writesj  "  At  pages  103  and  104,  you  attempt  to  show  that  the  discipline  of  Pentonville 
produced,  in  a  given  time,  upwards  of  ten  times  more  than  the  average  proportion  of  lunacy  in  all  other 
prisons  throughout  England  and  "Wales ;  whereas  it  is  impossible  to  institute  any  fair  comparison  in  such 
a  case.  For  what  parallel  is  there  between  Pentonville,  in  which,  under  the  separate  system,  the  term  was 
18  months,  and  upwards,  and  *  all  other  prisons,'  &c.,  in  which,  under  short  sentences  and  summary  convic- 
tioDS,  it  averaged  to  very  nuieh  lest  f 

(2.)  *' Again,  your  rate  of  6*8  of  criminal  lunatics  in  every  10,000  of  an  average  annual  population  in 
'  an  prisons,'  Ac. — (which,  although  not  so  stated,  was  probably  derived  from  the  number  found  to  have 
been  insane  on  iricU) — ^must  fall  veiy  far  short  of  the  cases  of  insanity  which  actually  occurred  in  every  such 
10,000  m  the  year.  For,  as  shown  by  Mr.  Burt,  at  p.  99  of  his  book,  the  proportion  of  lunatics  was  ascer- 
tained to  have  been  13  (persons  acquitted  as  insane)  in  every  10,000  of  the  prison  population  (tried) ;  but 
it  being  impossible  to  discover  the  average  period  that  elapsed  between  the  attack  (of  insanity)  and  the. 
prisoner^  ^ial,  the  interval  was  assumed,  for  example,  to  have  been  6  or  4  months — and  thus  the  cases  of 
insanity  occurring  during  th$  entire  year  must  have  been,  according  to  that  rate,  in  the  proportion  of  26  or 
89  in  10,000.    And  it  did  not  appear  that  the  highest  of  such  proportions  was  too  high. 

(3.)  ^  Mr.  Burt  further  showed,  horn  another  table,  that  the  annual  mean  number  of  cases  of  lunacy 
tfaroHnc^iont  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  reported  for  each  year  between  1843  and  1847  was  89*4 — tho 
average  daily  population  being  14,689 — ^giving  a  proportion  of  63  cases  of  insanity  in  every  10,000,  which 
is  a  frur  larger  proportion  than  occurred  under  the  separate  system,  when  carried  out  in  its  integrity,  for  the 
longest  terms,  with  the  greatest  strictness,  and  co-eztensively  with  that  same  period  of  time,  at  Pentonville. 

(4.)  ''Again,  at  the  pages  refenred  to,  and  at  page  115,  you  ascribe  to  the  separate  system,  preperly  to 

eaStd,  results  which  it  utterly  repudiates.     That  system,  commencing  in  1843,  and  ending  in  1847,  or  at 

latest  in  February,  1848,  lasted  6  years  and  2  months,  and  no  Umgor.    Within  that  period,  when  its  oum  con- 

ditiflns  and  retpuxements  were  fulfilled — and  net  beyond  that 'period,  when  they  were  violated  and  distorted, 

10* 


144  THE  GREAT   WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

At  a  later  hour  of  the  day — ^for  from  eight  to  half-past  twelve  the  prisoners  are  contintiallj 
going  to  and  returning  from  exercise — ^we  were  led  towards  the  private  exercising  yards,  and, 

and  when  innoTatlons,  ag^ainat  which  it  protests,  were  introduced— jou  must  therefore  look  for  its  legitimate 
results ;  and  these,  whatever  may  be  said,  and  by  whomsoeyer,  to  the  contrary,  are  the  very  reverse  of  the 
hideous  dimensions  you  describe.  But  instead  of  drawing  a  broad  line  after  the  termination  of  these  five  yean 
(the  duration  of  the  system),  so  as  unmistakably  to  distinguish  it  from  that  other  system — ^for  which  I  know 
no  name — ^which  succeeded  it,  and  which  in  the  three  following  years  of  1848,  1849,  1850,  was  attended  with 
the  most  disastrous  results,  viz.,  with  at  least  a  four-fold  larger  proportion  of  insanity  than  oocuired  under  the 
separate  system  altogether ;  results  which,  as  compared  with  the  last  four  cotuectUive  years  of  it,  were  greater,  by 
eight  times  and  upwards,  than  under  the  original  system — (instead  of  distinguishing  between  these  diflEerent 
systems)  you  have  confounded  the  results  of  the  two  under  a  eommon  name  ;  not,  I  beUeve,  intentionally, 
but  probably  because  others  whose  writings  you  may  have  consulted  had  done  so  before." 

Now,  against  the  first  of  the  aboye  remarks,  we  would  urge  that  it  is  asserted  by  the  adyocates  of  the 
separate  system,  as  "  carried  out  in  its  integrity"  at  Pentonyille,  that  the  greatest  number  of  cases  of  insanity 
occur  during  the  early  part  of  the  imprisonment ;  and  Mr.  Burt,  in  his  "  Results  of  Separate  Confinement"  (page 
132),  cites  a  table,  in  which  he  shows  that,  out  of  51  cases  of  mental  affection,  no  less  than  29  occurred 
within  the  first  six  months  and  under  ;  and  15  between  six  and  twelye  months ;  whereas  only  5  occurred 
between  twelve  and  eighteen  months ;  and  not  more  than  2  between  eighteen  months  and  two  years ;  or,  in 
other  words,  that  whereas  44  cases  of  mental  disorder  occurred  within  the  first  year,  there  were  but  7  within 
the  second.  Hence,  in  opposition  to  the  first  of  the  above  objections,  we  say — with  all  deference—that 
there  U  some  parallel  between  Pentonyille,  ^'  where  the  term  of  imprisonment  used  to  be  eighteen  months  and 
upwards,"  and  all  other  prisons  where  "  the  term  ayerages  so  much  less." 

Against  the  second  obseryation  we  can  only  adduce  the  fact  that,  in  the  Government  tables  [firom  which 
the  normal  rate  of  lunacy  was  deduced,  it  is  not  stated  that  the  number  of  lunatics  there  given  refers  to 
the  persons  acquitted  as  insane  "  upon  trials'*  and  that  no  reason  appears  for  making  such  an  assumption. 
But  even  assuming  such  to  be  the  case,  and  increasing  the  ratio  to  the  same  extent  as  Mr.  Burt  for  the  entire 
year,  we  raise  the  proportion  of  lunacy  merely  to  11*6  or  17' 4  in  the  10,000  prisoners,  which  is  still  widely 
different  from  62-0  to  the  10,000  which  is  the  proportion  at  Pentonyille. 

In  opposition  to  the  third  remark,  in  which  it  is  sho^-n  that  the  proportion  of  cases  of  insanity  to  the 
aioerage  daily  population  of  the  whole  prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  is  63  in  every  10,000  p^Lsoners,  we  answer, 
that  there  ie  aesuredly  no  parallel  here,  since  the  Pentonyille  returns  are  made  out  according  to  the  groes 
number  of  conyicts  entering  the  prison,  and  not  according  to  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  (see  Burt's 
'*  Besults,"  page  122),  whilst  those  from  which  the  normal  rate  of  lunacy  was  deduced  refer,  also,  not  to  tho 
daily  average  of  prisoners,  but  to  the  gross  priaon  population  of  England  and  Wales. 

With  reference  to  the  fourth  remark,  we  can  but  quote  the  following  table  given  by  Mr.  Bradley,  the 
medical  officer  of  the  prison,  in  his  report  for  the  year  1853,  and  which  is  arranged  to  show  the  'proportion 
of  lunacy  in  every  thousand  prisoners  eeriatim  as  they  entered  **  the  Model,"  but  which  we  have  here 
increased  to  ten  thousand,  by  the  addition  of  a  cypher  to  the  ratio,  in  order  to  reduce  the  whole  of  the  statistics 
to  one  uniform  standard,  and  so  facilitate  the  comparison : — 

No.  of  Cases  of     No.  of  Cases  of  No.  of  TnftAl 

Insanity.  Delusion.  Suicides.  aw«. 

60  100  0  160 

100  50  10  160 

40  90  20  150 

90  70  0  160 

20  0  0  20 

10  0  10  20 

For  the  first  and  second  items  the  term  of  imprisonment  in  Pentonyille,  says  Mr.  Bradley  (a  gentleman, 
be  it  observed,  who  is  often  commended  by  the  Suryeyor-Greneral  of  Prisons  for  the  accuracy  and  lucidity  of 
his  statistical  tables),  was  eighteen  months,  whereas  with  the  third  and  fourth  it  was  only  tweWe  months, 
so  that  if  calculated  for  an  uniform  period^  he  says,  there  would  be  an  increase  of  one-third  in  the  ratio 
of  lunacy  for  the  third  and  fourth  items  oyer  that  of  the  first  an^  second.  This  increase  Mr.  Bradley  attri- 
butes to  the  fact  that  the  earlier  prisoners  were  picked  men,  whereas  the  later  ones  were  the  ordinary  convicts 
of  a  low  intellectual  standard.  The  diminution  in  the  ratio  of  insanity  in  the  fifth  item  the  medical  officer 
ascribes  to  the  following  causes : — (1)  The  shortening  of  the  term  of  imprisonment  in  Pentonyille.  (2)  Increased 
quantity  of  out-door  exercise,  and  the  substitution  of  exercise  in  common  for  exercise  in  separate  yards. 
(3)  Better  yentilation  of  the  cells.  (4)  Relaxation  of  the  discipline  in  all  cases  of  danger.  (5)  Awakening 
the  prisoner's  interest  in  the  pursuit  of  his  trade.  (6)  Increased  amount  of  school  instruction  giyen  to  the 
most  ignorant. 

The  same  officer,  moreoyer,  adds  that  though  much  has  been  gained  by  the  measures  adopted  during 


Amongst 

the  1st  1 

[ten) 

thousand  prisoners 

2nd 

>» 

8rd 

» 

4th 

»» 

5th 

»» 

6th 

>» 

PEP^TONYILLE  PRISON.  146 

as  we  irent,  we  passed  a  detachment  of  ''  associated"  conyicts  at  work  with  barrows  and 
spades  in  the  prison  gronnds,  and  with  an  officer  attending  in  their  rear. 

These  private  yards  consist,  as  we  have  said,  each  of  a  series  of  eight  compartments,  or 
deep  narrow  dens,  as  it  were,  that  seem,  with  their  partitions,  not  nnlike  the  elongated  stalls 
of  a  stable,  all  radiating  from  a  smaU  octagonal  house  in  the  centre,  where  sits  a  warder 
watching  the  prisoners.  Here  the  invalids  and  refractory  or  dangerous  prisoners  are  put 
to  exercise. 

As  we  neared  yard  No.  4,  the  warder  whispered  in  our  ear  that  the  short  man  with  red 
hair,  whom  we  should  see  exercising  in  one  of  the  compartments,  was  in  for  a  murder  com- 
mitted at  Carlisle ;  and,  indeed,  had  had  so  narrow  an  escape  fh)m  the  gallows,  that  his 
respite  had  arrived  only  on  the  Saturday  before  his  appointed  execution  on  the  Monday. 

As  we  passed,  we  could  not  help  fixing  our  gaze  upon  the  blood-shedder,  who  was  pacing 
the  yard  moodily,  with  his  hands  buried  in  his  pockets ;  and  as  the  men,  in  this  part  of  the 
prison,  exercise  with  their  cap-peaks  up,  we  saw  sufficient  of  the  features  of  the  felon — ^for 
he  returned  our  glance  with  a  savage  stare  and  scowl — ^to  teach  us,  or  rather  to  make  us 
helieve  (and  it  is  astonishing  what  physiognomical  foresight  we  obtain  afUr  such  traits  of 
charactCT),  that  he  was  thoroughly  capable  of  the  act  for  which  he  was  suffering.  He  had 
been  a  pitman  in  the  north,  and  had  the  peculiar  freckled,  iron-mouldy,  Scotch  complexion, 
whilst  his  cheek  bones  were  high,  his  face  broad  and  flat,  and  his  neck  short  and  thick 
as  a  bull-terrier's,  to  which  animal,  indeed,  he  appeared  to  be  a  kind  of  human  counterpart. 
As  we  saw  him  prowling  there,  round  and  round  within  his  deep,  narrow  yard,  he  reminded 
Qfl  of  a  man-beast  caged  up  in  some  anthropo-zoological  gardens. 

Scarcely  had  we  passed  this  one,  before  our  eye  fell  upon  another  prisoner,  whose  more 
''  respectable"  features  and  figure,  as  well  as  silver  hair,  told  that  he  did  not  belong  to  the 
ordinary  convict  class ;  and  though  we  could  not  but  consider  his  sentence  an  honour  and 
glory  to  the  unswerving  justice  of  the  country,  as  proving  the  falsity  of  there  being  one  law 
for  the  rich  and  another  for  the  poor,  nevertheless,  we  could  not,  at  the  same  time,  refrvin 
from  sympathising  with  the  misery  and  shame  of  those  innocent  relatives  and  friends  whom 
the  crime  of  this  wretched  man  has  involved  in  utter  social  ruin. 

It  forms  no  part  of  our  office  to  pander  to  the  idle  curiosity  of  the  public  as  to  how  a 
titled  criminal  may  bear  himself  in  prison,  and  as  we  knew  that  every  word  we  penned  on 
the  subject  would  be  gall  and  wormwood  to  the  bruised  hearts  of  those  belonging  to,  or 
connected  with  the  family,  we  closed  our  note-book  before  reaching  the  private  yard  where 
the  individual  was  exercising,  and  turned  our  head  away,  so  that  even  he  might  not  fkncy 
that  we  had  come  to  exult  over,  and  make  still  more  public,  his  degradation. 

*«*  ArrmU  of  Oormets, — ^At  a  little  before  nine,  a.ic.,  the  men  return  from  their  morn- 
ing's exercise  and  prayer,  and  the  corridors,  which  have  remained  for  nearly  an  hour  drained 
of  all  their  inmat^  begin  to  swarm  again  with  prisoners,  as  the  men  come  pouring  back 
from  the  yards  and  chapel ;  and  then  the  arcades,  and  galleries,  and  staircases  are  once 
more  lined  with  the  masked  convict  troops  filing  along,  one  after  another,  as  rapidly  as  they 
can  stride  towards  their  separate  cells. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  parade  of  the  prison  officers  takes  place. 

recent  jetn  as  regsrcU  the  redaction  of  Ae  oases  of  mental  disorder,  ih4  Hmita  of  tafetff  have  §earceijf  y§t  Um 


To  Mr.  Bradley,  again,  the  merit  leema  to  be  due  of  recommending  that  the  daily  amount  of  ont-door 
•honld  be  increased,  and  that  each  exeroiBe  should  be  of  a  healthy  and  exhilarating  character  rather 
than  the  numotonoua  and  listlese  walk  of  separate  yards,  as  formerly  practised  at  the  prison. 

Now  such  statements  and  figures,  it  will  be  oheeryed,  are  at  variance  with  the  strictures  of  our  correspon- 
dcDt ;  and  we  can  but  add  that,  when  authorities  disagree,  it  b  our  duty  to  state  the  two  cases  as  Curly  as 
poaiibls,  and  leave  the  public  to  decide. 


146  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

"  Fall  in ! "  cries  the  chief  warder  oa  the  hour  is  etrikiiig,  and  infltantlj  the  twenty  and 
odd  officers  draw  themselYes  np  in  a  double  line  across  the  centre  corridor.  They  are  habited 
in  their  glazed  caps  and  short  work-day  jackets,  that  are  not  unlike  a  policeman's  coat  shorn 
of  its  tails,  and  ornamented  with  a  small  brass  onown  on  the  stand-iq>  collar,  whilst  each 
wears  a  broad  black  leathern  belt  round  the  waist,  with  a  shiny  cartouche-box  for  his  prison 
keys  projecting  from  the  hip. 

No  sooner  are  the  men  arranged  in  military  Hues  than  the  head  warder  shouts — ^'  Stand 
at  ease ! — ^Eyes  front ! — ^Bear  rank  fall  back ! "  and  instantly  the  officers  behind  step  a  pace 
.backwards,  their  feet  moving  as  one  man.  The  chief  warder  passes  between  the  ranksy 
and  when  he  has  finished  his  inspecti<m  of  the  warders,  cries  again — ''Bear  rank,  forward!" 
whereupon  the  m^i  behind  draw  close  up  to  the  rank  in  frx>nt,  and  then  the  head  officer 
proceeds  to  read  over  the  regulations  and  duties  for  the  next  day ;  after  which  he  shouta 
"  Break ! "  and  inmiediately  the  warders  disperse  to  their  several  quarters — ^the  regulations 
just  read  over  being  placed  on  tl^e  desk  in  the  centre  corridor  for  the  iniq)ecti(Hi  of  the  officers 
throughout  the  day. 

Presently  a  man  appears  carrying  a  letter-box,  with  a  padlock  at  its  side  and  a  slit  at  the 
top.  The  one  we  saw  was  marked  B,  for  it  was  the  receiving-box  for  the  corridor  so  inscribed, 
and  contained  the  convicts'  letters  to  their  friends,  which  had  been  just  collected  frxxn  that 
division  of  the  prison. 

*'  That  box,  sir>"  said  the  warder  who  acted  as  our  guide,  ''is  taken  to  the  chaplain,  who 
reads  the  letters  in  it,  and  after  that  to  the  governor,  who  does  the  same ;  and  if  they  are 
found  to  contain  nothing  improper  or  contrary  to  the  prison  rules,  they  are  despatched  to  the 
prisoners'  friends.  The  schoolmaster  supplies  the  m^i  with  the  paper,"  continued  our 
informant,  "  and  the  prisoner  writing  to  his  friends  says,  over  night,  to  the  officer  on  duty, '  I 
shall  have  a  letter  to  send  to-morrow  morning.' "  * 

*  The  foUowing  are  the  official  regtdatioiift  retpecting  the  oeiiding  and  ireceiving  of  letters  by  oonviBti 
and  which  are  usaally  printed  on  the  fint  page  of  the  letter'-paper  supplied  to  them : — 

"  Convicts  are  permitted  to  iprite  one  kiUr  on  reception^  andanother  ett  the  end  of  tkret  months.  The^m^iftdm 
reeeive  one  letter  (prepauf)  every  three  monthe  during  their  ttag.  Mottem  of  privaU  importtmee  to  «  eomM  may 
he  communicated  at  any  time  hy  letter  (jtrepaid^  to  the  Governor  or  Chaplmn^  who  wiU  ittform  the  convict  thereof ^ 
if  expedients 

"  In  case  of  misconduct,  the  privilege  of  receiving  or  umting  a  Utter  may  he  forfeited  for  t'he  time, 
"  All  letters  of  an  improper  or  idle  tendency  y  either  to  or  from  convicts,  or  containing  slang  or  other  ohfectionMe 
expressions,  wHl  he  suppressed.     The  permieeion  to  torUe  and  receive  letters  is  given  to  the  convicts  for  the  pttrpoee 
of  enahUng  them  to  keep  np  a  connection  with  their  respeetoNe  friends,  andnot  that  thepmay  hear  the  newscf  the 
day. 

'<  AU  letters  are  readhy  the  Governor  or  Chaplain,  andmmt  he  legihly  tcritten,  and  not  crossed. 

'*  Neither  clothes,  moneys  nor  any  other  articles  are  allowed  to  he  received  at  the  prison  for  the  use  of  convietSj 
except  through  the  Governor.  Persons  attempting  otherwise  to  introduce  any  article  to  or  for  a  convict,  are  UaUe 
tojine  or  imprisonment,  and  the  convict  eonoemed  is  Hahle  to  he  severely  punished." 

By  way  of  showing  the  kind  of  letters  written  by  convicts  of  the  better  dass,  we  here  append  one  from  a 
youeh  who  had  been  imprisoned  for  defranding  his  employer.  It  is  headed  by  the  subjoined  official  instfae- 
tions :— "  The  conviof  s  writing  to  be  confined  to  the  two  inner  pages.  In  writing  to  the  convict,  direct  to 
No.—  C J ."    The  letter  itself  is  as  foUowv  :— 

"Mt  Dbab  Mothbk 

"  I  am  sorry  that  yon  should  have  been  kept  waitin^so  long  to  hear  from  me  but  the  loasoa 

is  because  I  wanted  to  let  you  know  what  Mr.  D said  and  I  did  not  hear  from  him  until  last  Monday 

and  he  did  not  answer  my  letter  sooner  because  he  had  been  waiting  to  see  if  he  could  hear  of  anything  that 
would  suit  me  and  he  says  he  was  sorry  that  he  had  not  at  that  time  he  seems  to  think  that  it  would  be  advisable 

not  to  return  to  L and  he  also  says  that  he  should  have  no  objections  to  employ  me  as  far  as  he  KitnHf 

is  concerned  but  that  is  business  concerns  other  people  so  much  that  they  might  not  think  it  advisable  he  wishes 
me  well  and  hopes  you  may  be  able  to  meet  with  something  to  suit  me  I  was  recommended  for  my  liberty 
last  Saturday  but  cannot  say  to  a  month  when  I  shall  oome  home  when  called  upon  by  theOfaapiain  I  oonld 


PBNTONVILLE  PMSOK  147 

By  a  cnzions  ooinddenoe,  it  so  liappened  that  we  were  able  to  witness  the  anival  as 
well  as  13ie  departme  of  a  batch  of  oonviots  in  the  oonise  of  the  same  day ;  and  early  on 
the  moniing  of  our  viidt  we  had  seen  placed  in  the  ooiridor  bundles  of  clothes,  which  we 
wQfe  told  had  been  sorted  ready  for  the  coining  prisoners  from  IMQllbank. 

PentosiTille  Prison,  it  should  here  be  obs^red,  is  a  kind  of  probationary  asyloin,  where 
eoxLTicts  are  qualified,  either  for  transportation  abroad,  or  for  duty  at  the  public  works  at 
home,  such  as  Woolwich,  Portsmouth,  Portland,  &c. ;  indeed,  it  is  a  kind  of  penal  purgatory, 
where  men  are  submitted  to  the  chastisement  of  separate  oonfinement,  so  as  to  fit  them  for 
the  after  state.  Originally,  the  Model  Prison  was  deaigiied  as  a  conTict  academy  for  transports, 
where  the  inmates  were  not  only  to  be  taught  a  trade  that  would  be  a  means  of  subsistence 
to  them  in  the  colonies,  but  where  a  certain  moral,  if  not  religious,  impression  was  to  be 
made  upon  them,  in  order  to  render  them  good  members  of  the  new  society  they  were 
about  to  enter  upon;  and,  in  the  first  years  of  the  working  of  this  institution,  the  prisoners  used 
to  he  fitted  out  in  a  kind  of  sailors'  costume,  and  assembled  in  the  central  corridor,  in  their 
straw  hats,  and  with  their  ''  kits"  at  their  side,  previous  to  their  departure  for  the  conyict 
ship. 

Since  the  comparative  abolition  of  the  transport  system,  however,  the  convicts  Utmng 
Pentonville  are  eent  either  to  Portsmouth  (as  we  have  seen),  or  else  to  Woolwich  or  to 
Portland,  according  as  men  are  wanted  at  one  or  other  of  those  establishments.  On  the 
other  hand,  convicts  arriomg  at  Pentonville  come  from  IMGUlbank,  which  prison  now  serves  as 
a  kind  oidtpdtfoT  the  reception  of  convicts  generally,  and  whither  they  are  sent  fr^>m  the 
eeveral  detentional  prisons  after  they  have  been  found  guLLty,  and  sentraiced  for  ^e  offences 
with  whidh  tiiey  were  chaiged. 

Early  in  the  forenoon  of  the  day  that  we  passed  at  PentonviUe,  we  were  informed  that 
the  expected  new  bat<^  of  convicts  was  outside  the  gates;  and  that,  if  we  would  step  towards 
tiie  ooiirt-yard,  we  could  see  them  received  at  the  doors. 

We  foimd  the  governor,  with  the  chief  warder  and  other  officers,  assembled  on  the  steps 
at  the  end  of  the  prison  hall.  As  soon  as  we  reached  the  spot  a  whistle  was  given,  and,  the 
outer  gates  being  thrown  back,  we  saw  some  omnibuses  drawn  up  in  the  large  portcullis 
porch  without.  Then  the  doors  of  the  several  vehicles  were  opened,  and  out  came  a  string 
of  some  ten  convicts  frxmi  each  of  the  carriages. 

The  miserable  wretches  were  chained  together  by  the  wrists  in  lines,  after  the  same 
fashion  as  we  have  already  described.  Some  were  habited  in  the  ordinary  light  snuff-brown 
convict  suits,  and  others  wore  gray  jackets,  all  having  Scotch  caps,  and  small  bundles  of 
Bibles  and  hymn-boo^s,  tied  in  handkercMeft,  under  their  arm;  whilst  all  the  articles 
Ihey  wore — jacket,  trousers,  cap,  and  even  their  gray  stockings — were  marked  by  the  red 
stripe  which  is  characteristic  of  all  convict  apparel ;  for  not  only  are  the  clothes,  but 
even  the  sheets  and  fiannels  of  the  Grovemment  prisons  so  distinguished. 

On  descending  from  tihe  omnibus,  the  new  prisoners  were  drawn  up  in  five  rows  on  one 
side  of  the  court-yard.  They  were  of  all  i^es — ^from  mere  boys  to  old  men  of  between  fifty 
and  sixty.  Nor  were  iheir  expressions  <^  features  less  various ;  some  looked,  as  a  physiognomist 
would  say,  ''really  bad  feliows,"  whilst  others  appeared  to  have  even  a  **  respectable  "  cast  of 

only  g;ive  yonnelf  as  a  nf«r«iice  and  the  Governor  told  me  on  Saturday  that  I  had  a  good  one  come  I  shall 
be  boo  to  write  another  letter  and  think  ^  be  at  home  the  beginning  of  April  but  perhape  can  tell  more  about 
it  in  my  next 

"  Wiahing  you  all  well  I  conclude  with  my  kindest  lore  to  my  dear  brothers  sisters  relations  and  friends 

and  accept  the  same  dear  Mother  yourself 

'*  I  remain, 

<<  Tour.afiectionate  and  loving  Son, 

"  Please  to  write  soon    God  bless  you  "  "  Cs.  J— • 

The  writer  of  the  above  letter  has  since  been  liberated  on  "  license,"  and  been  provided  with  a  situation, 
through  the  kindness  of  one  of  our  own  friends.    He  seems  likely  to  go  on  weH. 


148  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOITOON". 

countenance,  the  features  being  well  formed  rather  than  ooarse,  and  the  expression  marked 
by  frankness  rather  than  cunning,  so  that  one  could  not  help  wondering  what  hard  pressure 
of  circumstances  had  brought  them  there.  It  did  not  require  much  skill  in  detecting  character 
to  pick  out  the  habitual  offender  from  the  casual  criminal,  or  to  distinguish  the  simple,  l»oad 
brown  face  of  the  agricultural  convict  from  the  knowing,  sharp,  pale  features  of  the  town 
thief. 

<'  That's  the  youngest  boy  I  oyer  saw  in  this  prison,"  said  one  of  the  warders,  as  he 
pointed  to  a  convict-lad  among  the  troop,  who  seemed  scarcely  fourteen  years  of  age. 

''  Ko  wonder  we  get  them  here  so  young,''  exclaimed  the  chief  warder,  '^  for  late  last 
evening  I  saw  three  boys  stuffed  in  a  hole  under  the  railway,  just  where  the  man  has  a  fire  in 
the  day-time  to  roast  his  nuts  and  apples,  so  that  the  place  is  a  little  warm  at  night  for  the 
poor  things." 

Here  an  oMcer,  with  a  gold-lace  band  roimd  his  cap,  marking  him  as  the  principal 
warder  who  had  come  with  the  convict  batch,  stepped  forward  and  delivered  his  papers  to 
the  Pentonville  authorities. 

''■You  see,"  said  the  governor  to  us,  "  the  officer  from  Millbank  brings  ns  the  caption- 
papers,  with  the  sentence  and  order  of  Court,  as  well  as  the  certificates  of  conduct  in  connec- 
tion with  each  man  during  his  imprisonment,  so  that  we  may  know  all  the  antecedents  of 
those  we  receive.  Then  we  give  a  receipt  for  the  bodies  on  the  warrant  of  the  Secretary  of 
State,  a  duplicate  of  which  has  been  lodged  with  us  some  days  previously." 

"  Please  to  unlock  them,"  said  the  Pentonville  chief  warder  to  the  "MTillhgnlr  officer ; 
and  instantly  the  official  with  the  gold-lace  band  proceeded  to  do  as  requested,  whilst  the 
other  Millbank  officers  drew  the  stout  curb-chain  through  the  holes  of  the  handcuff,  and  bo 
detached  the  prisoners  one  from  the  other. 

Then  the  governor's  clerk  called  over  the  names  of  the  men  contained  in  the  Secretazy 
of  State's  warrant ;  and  as  the  convicts  cried,  "Here,  sir !"  they  passed  over,  one  afto^another, 
to  the  other  side  of  the  yard. 

After  this  the  medical  officer  inspected  the  new  prisoners,  even  though  he  had  been 
frimished  with  a  certificate  that  the  convicts  sent  were  "  free  from  infectious  or  contagious 
disease,  and  fit  to  be  removed." 

"  Are  you  in  good  health  ?"  the  doctor  asks  of  each  man,  as  he  walks  along  the  line  with 
a  note-book  in  his  hand,  and  ready  to  enter  any  answer  to  the  contrary — "  Are  you  in  good 
health  ?"  and  if  the  reply  be  in  the  affirmative,  the  man  is  dismissed  to  the  reception  wards 
below,  there  to  pass  through  the  other  preliminary  examinations. 

On  the  day  on  which  we  were  present  there  were  but  one  or  two  men  amoi^  the  fresh 
arrivals  who  complained  of  being  sickly,  and  one  of  these  was  a  ghastly,  featureless  spectacle 
from  syphilis. 

"  What  can  we  do  with  8uoh  a  man  here  ?"  said  the  doctor,  turning  to  us. 

"  Can  you  read,  my  man  ?"  he  asked  of  another  prisoner,  the  "  fitcial  angle"  of  whose 
head  showed  him  to  be  a  man  of  low  intellect.  "  Ko,  sic,"  was  the  answer,  "  but  I 
know  my  letters."  "  And  he  will  never  know  anything  more,"  added  the  medical  officer  in 
an  under-tone,  when  he  had  dismissed  the  prisoner,  "  for  he  is  one  of  the  men  we  often  get 
here  that  no  teaching  on  earth  could  instruct." 

"  Do  you  find  the  convicts  generally  persons  of  inferior  understanding  ?"  asked  we. 

"  OeneraUy  speaking,  I  should  say  certainly,"  was  the  cautious  reply.  "  There  axe 
exceptions,  of  course ;  but  as  a  body,  1[  consider  them  to  be  hadly  developed  people.  Yonder, 
however,  is  one  of  the  contradictions  we  occasionally  meet  with,"  whispered  the  medical 
officer  to  us. 

The  man  the  doctor  alluded  to  was  a  person  of  a  highly  intellectual  cast  of  countenance, 
and,  what  struck  us  as  being  more  peculiar,  his  forehead  was  not  only  broad  and  high, 
but  the  head  bald — ^for  it  is  rather  an  extraordinary  circumstance,  that  when  the  convicts  at 


PENTONTILLE  PRISON.  149 

a  GoTemment  prison  are  mnstered  altogether,  as  in  chapel,  we  seldom  or  never  see  one 
bald  or  gray  head  among  the  400  or  600  individuals  that  may  be  there  assembled. 

On  inquiry,  the  new  prisoner  proved  to  be  a  German  ''physician/'  or  natural  philosopher 
(for  in  G^ermany  the  term  physician  is  used  in  a  different  sense  from  what  it  is  in  England), 
belonging  to  Berlin.  He  had  been  sentenced  for  stealing  a  portmanteau  at  a  railway  station, 
and  not  only  tried  under  a  fedse  name,  but  refused  to  give  any  information  as  to  his  Mends. 

The  medical  officer  then  informed  us  that  they  were  often  awkwardly  situated  with  the 
foreigners  sent  to  the  prison.  A  little  while  ago  there  had  been  two  Chinamen  there,  and 
among  the  "  batch"  that  we  saw  aixive,  there  were,  besides  the  German  physician  above 
alluded  to,  no  less  than  three  Frenchmen ;  there  was,  moreover,  a  Spaniard  already  in  the 
prison,  who  called  himself  a  physician,  and  who,  being  unable  to  speak  English,  communi- 
cated with  the  doctor  in  a  kind  of  Spanish  dog-Latin.* 

When  the  medical  officer  has  finished  his  examination  of  the  fresh  prisoners,  the  governor 
proceeds  below  to  say  a  few  words  to  the  men,  as  to  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  prison. 

We  accompanied  the  governor  down  to  the  reception  ward  for  this  purpose,  and  there 
found  the  convicts  drawn  up  partly  in  a  narrow  passage,  and  partly  in  a  small  room  at  the  side. 
The  address  was  at  once  dignified  and  kindly.  The  governor  told  the  men  that  he  hoped 
they  would  conform  to  the  distressing  circumstances  in  which  they  had  placed  themselves, 
and  save  him  the  pain  of  punishiog  them  for  a  breach  of  the  prison  rules.  It  was  his  duty, 
he  said,  to  see  those  rules  strictly  carried  out,  and  he  made  a  point  of  never  swerving 
from  it.  At  that  prison,  all  intercommunication  among  prisoners  was  strictly  forbidden,  and 
though  some  might  think  an  infringement  of  this  rule  a  trivial  offence,  nevertheless  the 
authorities  could  not  look  upon  it  in  such  a  light,  and  therefore  an  attempt  on  the  part  of 
any  man  to  hold  communion  with  his  fellow-prisoners  would  be  immediately  punished.  But  if 
there  were  punishments,  the  men  would  find  that  there  were  rewards  also ;  and  these  rewards 
were  open  to  any  prisoner  to  gain  by  good  conduct,  without  the  least  favour.  They  would 
find,  too,  that  exemplary  behaviour  would  serve  them,  not  only  in  that  prison,  but  in  the  one 
to  which  they  might  be  sent  hereafter ;  so  he  trusted  they  would  spare  him  the  exercise  of 
the  painful  duty  of  punishing,  and  allow  him  the  more  pleasant  office  of  rewarding  them 
there,  so  that  he  might  give  them  each  a  first-class  character  when  they  left,  and  thus  render 
their  imprisonment  as  light  as  it  possibly  could  be  made  consistently  with  public  duty. 

When  the  governor  had  finished  his  oration,  the  chaplain  came  and  spoke  to  them  also. 
His  address  was  of  a  more  tauehtn^  character ;  for  the  clergyman  said  he  was  well  aware 
what  a  sad  trial  it  was  for  them  to  be  parted  from  aU  their  friends,  and  it  was  the  most  painful 
part  of  his  office  to  be*visited  by  the  relatives  of  prisoners— to  witness  the  heavy  affliction 
that  convicts  brought  upon  their  families  by  their  disgrace  and  pimishment.  He  begged  of 
them,  therefore,  to  conduct  themselves  well,  and  to  turn  their  thoughts  to  the  one  Great 
Being  who  was  still  ready  to  receive  and  welcome  them  to'  a  share  of  His  love ;  and  to 
remember  that  though  aU  l^e  world  might  shun  them  in  their  shame,  and  that  though  they 

*  The  medical  officer  of  FentoxiTille  obliged  lu  with  the  last  letter  he  had  received  from  thie  Spanish  con- 
Tici.    It  ran  as  follows : — 

"  Abitavid  in  est  dome  non  mandacavid  sine  panis  et  potatorum,  oaro  non  posum  masticare,  et  debilitacio 
apod  eraiid  ore  et  enfirmetas  aumentayemm,  ego  yoIo  si  posum  sine  mandnoare  ad  ezpensaa  meas,  abeo  domus 
et  terras  eoi  sua  productione  dad  suflciens  rentam ;  enfirmetas  meas  sunt  anticuarum,  ego  abeo  metodnm 
(almor)  in  inieetumem  aqnarom  malv :   calida  (reuma^)  Lao  cum  deoootom  SarspariU  calidum  et  multarum 


»» 


We  append  as  literal  a  translation  as  is  possible  of  the  above  Jargon  :— 

*'  I  have  lived  in  this  house,  not  eating  anything  except  bread  and  potatoes— flesh  I  cannot  chew,  and  mj 
debility  and  infirmities  augment  I  wish,  if  I  can,  to  eat  at  my  own  expense.  I  have  houses  and  lands,  the 
produce  (or  income)  of  which  g^ves  a  sufficient  rent.  My  infirmities  are  ancient ;  I  have  a  method-M>r  sys- 
tem of  core— {«lnor}  in  an  tnjeotion  of  water  of  mallows  hot  {rheitm),  milk  with  a  decoction  of  sarsaparilla  hot, 
sad  many  things." 


150  THE  GSEAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 

had  hardly  one  Mend  left  to  say  a  kindly  word  for  them,  there  iraaOnfiwho  had  taffered  on 
earth  for  their  sakes,  and  who  was  ever  ready  to  plead  for  mercy — where  mer(r^  was  most 
needed — ^in  their  hehalf .  He  hoped  that  they  would  all  do  thisy  eo  that  when  tibieir  frienda 
came  or  wrote  to  him,  to  leom  some  tidings  of  them,  he  might  he  able  to  soothe  their  angnish 
with  the  assorance  that  they  had  become  better  men,  and  mig^t  atill  live  to  be  a  oomfort 
and  a  joy  to  those  npon  whose  heads  they  had,  as  yet,  only  bron^t  down  shame  and  sorrow. 

We  watched  the  men  intently  while  the  tender  exhortation  was  being  deliyered  to 
them,  and  when  the  chaplain  spoke  of  their  friends  and  relatives,  they  one  and  aU  hnn^ 
their  heads,  whilst  some,  we  conld  see,  bit  their  lip  to  stay  the  rising  tear;  and  when  the 
speech  was  finished,  there  was  many  a  moistened  eye,  and  many  a  cry  of  *'  Bless  you,  sir !'' 
as  the  minister  took  his  leave. 

After  the  new-comers  had  been  spoken  to  as  above  by  the  governor  and  chaplain,  they 
were  ordered  into  two  small  rooms  in  the  aame  part  of  the  building  as  that  in  which  they 
had  been  addressed;  and  on  our  returning  to  the  *'  reoeptiooDrroom  "  a  few  moments  after- 
wards, we  heard  the  buzz  of  many  voices,  and  found  the  men  chattering  away  as  hard  as 
school  boys  in  play-time,  for  they  loiew  it  was  the  last  taJk  they  would  be  able  to  indulge 
in  for  the  next  three-quartecs  of  a  year ;  whilst  outside  the  door  was  an  offioer  giving  notice 
to  the  men  that  they  would  not  be  allowed  to  take  anything  into  the  prison  but  their  BibLea 
and  Prayer*books. 

''  Have  any  of  you  got  any  letters,  or  locks  of  hair,  or  anything  else  to  give  up  ?  "  cried 
the  officer,  as  he  put  his  head  into  the  room;  "  for  if  they're  found  on  you  in  the  prison 
they'll  be  destroyed." 

''  IVe  got  a  letter,"  exclaimed  one,  holding  out  a  piece  of  paper,  and  as  he  handed  over 
the  article,  the  officer  proceeded  to  write  on  Ihe  back  the  owner's  name,  and  to  deposit  it 
in  a  trey  by  his  side.  The  warder  then  told  us  that  the  various  packets  collected  would  be 
put  under  the  care  of  the  steward,  who  kept  a  Ixx^  of  all  that  was  entrusted  to  him,  and  on 
the  convicts'  leaving,  the  articles  would  be  either  restored  or  transferred  to  the  prison  to  which 
they  might  be  sent.  He  added,  that  the  prisoners  set  great  store  upon  such  things,  and  that 
numbers  of  them  entered  the  prison  with  locks  of  hair  hung  round  their  neck.  ''  There  are 
several  locks  there,  you  see,  sir,  that  I  have  collected  already,"  said  the  warder,  pointing  to 
some  small  packets  done  up  after  the  feishion  of ''  kisses  "  at  a  confectioner's. 

By  this  time  the  usual  preliminary  bath  was  ready,  whikt  the  other  end  of  the  passage 
was  filled  with  a  white  f(^  of  steam  as  thick  as  that  pervading  a  laundry. 

Then  began  the  examination  of  the  prisoners  previous  to  bathing.  For  this  purpose 
they  were  had  out  into  the  passage  one  by  one,  as  soon  as  tiiey  had  stripped  themselves  of 
their  clothes,  and  made  to  stand  before  Ihe  officer  in  a  perfect  state  of  nudity,  while  he 
examined  every  part  of  their  person. 

*'  There  now,  place  your  feet  on  the  mat.  Whaf  s  the  use  of  you're  going  on  the  cold 
stones  when  there's  a  rug  put  for  you  ? "  exdaimed  the  officer  in  an  authoritative  tone. 
*'  Now,  open  your  mouth,"  he  continued,  when  the  prisoner  had  stationed  himself  as  directed, 
«<  and  lift  up  your  tongue.  Did  I  say  put  oitt  your  tongue,  man  ?  lift  it  up,  don't  you 
hear  ?"  whereupon  the  officer  proceeded  to  spy  into  the  open  jaws  of  the  convict,  as  closely 
as  a  magpie  does  down  a  bone ;  and  when  he  had  satisfied  himself  that  there  was  no  money 
nor  anything  dse  secreted  within  it,  he  moved  to  the  back  of  the  man  and  cried,  ''  Bend 
your  h^ad  down!"  and  then  commenced  examining  the  roots  of  the  prisoner's  hair,  as  well  as 
behind  his  ears.  This  done,  the  next  order  was,  ''  Hold  up  your  arms ! "  and  then  the  naked 
man  raised  his  hands  high  above  his  head,  one  after  the  other,  while  the  officer  assured  him- 
self that  he  had  nothing  hidden  there. 

After  this,  the  convict  was  commanded  to  place  himself  on  all  fours,  so  as  to  rest  on  his 
hands  and  feet,  and  then  to  raise  his  legs  one  at  a  time,  so  that  the  warder  might  aee  whether 
anything  were  concealed  under  his  toes. 


PENTONTUIiE  PBIBOK.  161 

^'  Thear%  tiiafll  do.  Clesp  thiB  rag  oyer  your  BhouldeiB  and  mm  away  to  the  bath/' 
added  the  official,  when  the  examination  was  oondnded. 

''We  oan't  be  too  carofnl,  air/'  said  the  wardei;  turning  to  ns,  as  he  held  up  the  man's 
Bible  by  the  coveiSy  and  proceeded  to  shake  the  pendent  leaves  backwards  and  forwards,  in 
order  to  satisfy  himself  that  nothing  had  been  inserted  between  the  pages.  ''  Sometimes 
a  piece  ci  silTer  has  been  Ibund  stowed  away  in  a  man's  mouth,  and  some  convicts  have  been 
known  to  bnng  in  keys  and  pick-loeks  hidden  about  their  bodies  in  the  most  inconceivable 
plaoes." 

The  next  process  was  the  bathing,  and  as  we  entered  the  bath-room  we  found  the  floor 
strewn  with  bundles  of  clothes,  and  a  prisoner,  with  his  hair  wet  and  clinging  in  matted 
''pencils"  about  his  faoe,  busy  dressing  himself  in  the  Pentonville  flannels,  shirt,  and 
stodkingBy  and  with  a  couple  of  warders  in  large  aprons  standing  by.  In  the  adjoining 
bath«room  was  another  convict  splashing  about  in  the  warm-bath,  and  evidently  enjoying 
tibe  luxury  of  tibe  brief  immersion  in  the  hot  water. 

"  There,  go  outside  into  the  passage  and  get  your  o6«t  and  trousers,"  said  the  warder  to 
the'  man  who  was  half-dressed;  whilst  to  the  naked  one,  who  came  running  along  with  a 
rug  over  his  shoulders,  he  cried,  " In  you  go,  and  look  sharp!"  as  he  beckoned  him  towards 
tlie  bath  and  ordered  the  other  to  come  out. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  passage  to  the  bath-room  the  governor's  clerk  and  another 
were  busy  making  out  the  register-number  for  each  of  the  new-comers,  and  examining  the 
men  and  their  papers  previous  to  entering  their  names  on  the  prison  books,  as  well  as  assign- 
ing to  them  their  several  trades. 

On  entering  this  room  we  found  the  boy  that  the  chief  warder  had  before  drawn  our 
attention  to,  as  beingtiiie  youngest  lad  iitat  had  ever  been  confined  within  the  walls  of  that 
prison,  vndeigoing  his  examination.  In  his  captioki-'papers  he  was  marked  sixteen  years  of 
age,  but  certainly  did  not  look  fourteeti.  He  had  been  imprisoned  twelve  times  for  one  month, 
two  months,  and  so  on  up  to  twelve  months,  and  was  now  sentenced  to  four  years'  penal  servi- 
tude for  stealing  a  handkerchief  value  one  shilling.  He  had  all  the  sharp,  cunning  appear- 
ance of  the  habitual  London  tibief^  and  as  he  spoke  he  feigned  a  simplicity  that  you  could  see, 
foy  ihe  curi  and  quivering  at  the  comers  of  bis  mouthy  required  but  the  least  frivolous  word 
to  make  him  break  through  and  burst  into  laughter. 

The  next  convict  who  entered  belonged  to  the  agricultural  class,  and  hs  had  been  sentenced 
to  four  years'  penal  service  also,  for  stealing  a  broom  and  a  pair  of  leathern  mittens.  "  What 
have  you  been  ?"  inquired  one  of  the  clerks  of  the  man.  "  A  gardener,"  was  the  brief  and 
timid.reply.  **  Ever  worked  at  anything  else?"  was  the  next  question*  "Always  at  that  kind 
of  work,"  the  man  answered.  "  Been  in  prison  before  ?  "  "  Yes,  sir."  "  Learn  anything 
there  ?  "  "I  leamt  mat-making,  if  you  please,  sir."  "Can  you  make  a  mat?"  ''Well,  I  '11 
try,  nr."   Whereupon  the  man  was  dismissed. 

The  trades  carried  on  in  Pentonville  Prison^  we  were  told,  consisted  of  weaving,  mat- 
making,  tailoring,  and  shoemaking ;  and,  in  the  distribution  of  these  employments,  the 
officers  look  principally  to  the  physical  and  mental  capabilities  of  the  convicts.  Strong, 
broad-shouldered  men  are  put  to  weaving  and  to  mat-making,  whilst  the  more  feeble  class 
of  prisoners  are  set  to  work  as  tailors. 

At  Pentonville  the  authorities  make  four  distinct  classes  of  prisoners.  ( 1 )  The  dangerous 
men,  or  those  that  are  notorious  prison-breakers,  and  convicts  of  known  desperate  characters ; 
(2)  Second  probation  men,  or  those  unruly  prisoners  who  have  been  sent  back  from  the 
public  works  to  xmdergo  another  term  of  separate  confinement,*  (3)  Ordinary  "separate 
men,"  or  those  who  are  working  out  their  first  probation  of  nine  months ;  and  (4)  The 
associated  men,  or  those  who,  having  conducted  themselves  well  while  in  separation,  are 
allowed  to  work  in  company  with  other  well-conducted  convicts. 

niare  are,  moreover,  prisoners  of  first,  second,  and  third  class  charaoteirs;  according  to 


152  THE  GEEIT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

their  behayiour  during  their  term  of  incaiceratioii.  The  first  daas  constitates  by  tax  the  largest 
proportion,  and  consists  generally  of  the  well-edacatedembezzlerB  and  forgers,  as  well  as  the 
more  ignorant  agricnltoral  prisoners,  together  with  the  first-offuice  men,  and  the  old  jail- 
birds. The  second  class  characters  mostly  beloi^  to  the  more  thoughtless  and  careless  of  the 
conyicts,  who  are  carried  away  by  temptation  or  temper ;  whilst  the  third  dass  characters 
usually  appertain  to  the  self-willed  and  refractory  boys,  who  are  from  15  to  25  yean  of  age.* 

Again,  as  regards  the  mental  qualifications  of  the  conyicts,  they  are  diyided  into  firsty 
second,  and  third  class  men.  The  first  dass  consists  of  prisoners  who  haye  no  necessity  to  go 
to  school,  being  able,  not  only  to  read  and  write  well,  but  acquainted  with  ariUmietic  as  fieu:  as 
the  rule  of  proportion.  The  second  dass  comprises  men  who  can  read  and  write,  and  work 
sums  as  fiEff  as  the  compound  rules ;  whereas  the  third  dass  men  are  those  who  are  im- 
perfectly educated,  and  whose  arithmetical  knowledge  extends  no  farther  than  the  simple 
rules.  This  third  class  again  is  sub-diyided  into  three  sub-classes;  the  first  of  whidi  indudes 
those  who  can  read  and  write,  and  do  the  simple  rules  in  arithmetic,  whilst  to  the  second 
belong  such  as  are  learning  the  simple  rules,  and  the  tiurd  comprises  all  who  can  read,  write, 
and  cypher  only  imperfectly,  or  not  at  all. 

Of  the  well-educated  class  of  prisoners  the  proportion  is  about  14  per  cent,  of  the  whole ; 
of  the  moderately-educated  class  there  is  not  quite  8  per  cent.;  whilst  the  imperfectly- 
educated  prisoners  ayerage  yery  nearly  80  per  cent.f 

*  We  were  preient  on  another  oooanon,  when  lome  24  priaonen,  who  were  going  away  to  Portland  on  the 
following  morning,  were  had  into  the  govemor'a  room,  ao  that  he  might  aay  a  few  worda  to  them  preTiooa  to 
their  departure.  Of  theae,  21  were  about  to  leave  with  first  claaa  charaetera,  whilst  only  two  had  aeoond 
class  ones,  and  the  remaiaing  prisoner  a  third  dass.  Among  the  first-clasa  prisonera,  there  were  4  who  had 
been  sentenoed  for  6  years,  one  for  6,  one  for  8,  one  for  21,  and  one  for  life,  whilst  the  majority  had  been 
condemned  to  4  years'  penal  service.  Among  the  number,  too,  one  had  been  in  priaon  aix  timea  before,  and 
another  seven ;  but  few  had  been  punished  while  at  FentonvUle,  and  of  these  only  two  had  been  punished 
more  than  once ;  one  of  theae  two,  however,  had  been  seven  times  in  the  dark  celL  The  first  clasa  men  were 
told  that  their  good  conduct  would  serve  them  where  they  were  going  to,  and  that  thej  would  find  it  to  their 
wel&re  to  strive  and  keep  the  good  character  they  had  earned.  The  two  with  the  second  daas  characters 
were  mere  boys,  and  they  were  had  in  aeparately,  and  exhorted  to  behave  better  for  the  future ;  whilst  the 
other,  having  the  third  claaa  dharaoter,  waa  likewise  spoken  to  alone,  and  entreated  to  try  and  bea  good  lad  at 
the  pUtoe  he  waa  going  to ;  whereupon  he  aaid  that  he  had  made  up  hia  mind  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf.  This 
boy  waa  fiir  from  ill-looking,  and  hia  expreasion  betokened  no  depraved  nature.  He  had  come  to  Fentonvillek 
however,  with  a  bad  character  from  Birmingham ;  still  the  governor  told  us  that  he  did  not  believe  the  lad 
to  be  utterly  vicious,  but  weak  and  wayward  in  character.  *'  If  [he  falls  in  with  boys,  he  will  most  likely 
turn  out  ba^y,  but  if  he  gets  among  sensible  men,  he  may  do  wdl  enough,"  were  the  govemor^s  obeerra- 
tions  to  ua  on  the  lad's  leaving. 

t  Mr.  Wilson,  the  schoolmaster  of  Pentonville  Prison,  was  kind  enough  to  prepare  the  following  return  for 
us  in  connection  with  this  part  of  the  subject : — 

BBTUBN  SHOWIKQ  THB  PBB  CBNTAOB  OF  PBISOXSRS  BBLONOINQ  TO  BACK  OF  TKB  8CB00L  CLA88BB  HT 

PBMTONVILLB  PBISON. 

.  No.of8eludani]i 
Belonging  to  the  first  class  (or  those  who  can  read  and  write  well  and  cypher  as  fiur  as  •▼«i7  lOO. 

the  rule  of  proportion)  .  .  .  .  .  .  •  .  .14 

Belonging  to  the  second  clasa  (or  those  who  can  read  and  write  well,  and  cypher  as  far 

as  the  compound  rules)  ..••••...     6*76 

Belonging  to  the  third  dass  (or  those  whose  arithmetical  knowledge  eztenda  no  &rther 

than  the  simple  rules) — • 

Belonging  to  the  fint  sub-clasa  (or  those  who  can  work  the  simple  rules  of  arithmetic)  17*75 

Belonging  to  the  second  sub-class  (or  those  who  are  learning  the  aimple  rulea  of 

arithmetic)  «  «  .  .•••..  41*75 

Belonging  to  the  third  aub-dasa  (or  thoae  who  can  read,  write,  and  cypher  only 

imperfectly,  or  not  at  all)  .  .  «...  19*76 

79-25 


N.B. — The  above  average  ia  deduced  from  four  hundred  examples.  lOO'OO 


PENTONYILLE  PRISON.  153 

%*  iVwoM  Work  and  OratwUies. — ^We  have  already  spoken  incidentally  of  the  work 
done  by  the  FentonTiUe  prisoners^  and  we  shaU  now  proceed  to  set  forth  the  details  in  con- 
nection with  that  part  of  our  subject. 

As  early  as  half-past  six,  a.ic.,  the  prison  labour  begins,  and  continues  throughout  the 
day — ^with  the  intervals  of  meal  time,  and  the  chapel  service,  as  well  as  the  period  set  apart 
for  exercise— up  to  seven  o'clock,  p.m. 

The  trades  carried  on  within  the  ''  Model  Prison/'  consist  of  weaving  and  mat-making, 
oocapations  which  are  pursued  principally  in  the  lower  wards;  tailoring,  at  which  the 
prisoners  on  the  first  tier  are  set  to  work ;  and  shoemaking,  in  which  trade  the  men  on  the 
upper  tier  are  generally  engaged.  In  addition  to  these,  there  are  a  few  convicts  employed  as 
carpenters  and  blacknniths,  and  to  them  the  '*  shops  "  in  the  basement  of  C  division  are 
devoted,  whilst  there  are  still  some  others  working  as  cooks,  bakers,  and  cleaners,  besides  a 
few  bricklayers  employed  in  the  grounds.* 

The  labour  at  Pentonville,  owing  to  the  monotony  of  separate  confinement  is,  as  we  said 
before,  so  far  from  being  looked  upon  as  a  punishment,  regarded  rather  as  an  indulgence  by 
the  generality  of  prisoners,  so  that  one  of  the  penal  inflictions  in  that  institution  is  to  stop  a 
man's  work. 

''There  are  some  men,  however,"  said  the  warder  to  us,  as  we  walked  through  the  various 
work-shops,  "who  are  so  naturally  averse  to  all  kinds  of  employment,  that  they  would  rather 
lie  down  like  pigs  than  be  put  to  any  labour.  '  If  you  don't  do  your  work  quicker  and 
better,'  perhaps  an  officer  may  say  to  such  men,  'I  shall  report  you.'  'Do/'  they'll  answer, 
'that's  just  what  I  want,  for  then  I  shall  have  a  Httle  rest.' 

"With  the  greater  part  of  the  men,  however,"  continued  our  attendant,  **  an  occupation 
attracts  a  man's  mind,  and  he  gets  to  feel  a  bit  proud  of  his  abilities  when  he  finds  he's  able 
to  do  something  for  himself,  even  though  it's  only  to  make  a  pair  of  phoes,  or  to  turn  out  a 
few  yards  of  doth.  He  seems  to  think  himself  more  of  a  man  directly  he  knows  he's  got 
some  trade  at  his  fingers'  ends  at  which  he  can  earn  a  living,  if  he  likes,  when  his  time's  up.f 

The  sentencee  of  the  prisonen  confined  at  Pentonville  in  the  year  1854  were  as  follows,  out  of  a  total  of 

887  prisoners : — 

210  men,  or  64*2  per  cent  of  the  whole,  were  sentenced  to  7  years'  transportation. 


94 

9> 

24-3 

») 

10 

33 

»» 

8-5 

It 

16 

15 

» 

3-9 

M 

" 

14 

n 

8-6 

n 

traniportation  for  life. 

1 

n 

0-3 

n 

12  yeaia'  tnuuportation. 

1 

•» 

0-3 

n 

20 

1 

>i 

0*3 

»» 

21 

15 

}* 

3*9 

>♦ 

4  years'  penal  servitude. 

3 

>» 

07 

)i 

6 

387  1000 

*  In  the  year  1854,  the  distribution  of  trades  among  the  Pentonville  prisoners  was  as  follows :  -^ 
Oat  of  a  gross  average  of  523  convicts  employed  throughout  the  year,  there  were  181,  or  34  per  cent., 
oeenpied  as  tailors ;  108,  or  21  per  oent.,  working  as  shoemakers ;  107,  or  20  per  cent,  as  weavers  ;  81,  or  16 
per  eent,  as  matmakers ;  30,  or  6  per  cent,  as  bricklayers,  carpenters,  smiths,  &c. ;  whilst  the  remaining  16, 
or  3  percentt  were  sick,  and  put  to  no  employment  whatever. 

Moreover,  of  the  gross  average  of  523  prisoners,  about  456,  or  87  per  cent,  were  at  work  in  a  state  of 
•eparation  from  the  others,  and  the  remaining  67,  or  13  per  cent,  placed  in  association ;  whilst  of  the  67 
^  aiMociatied  men,"  4  were  tailors,  4  shoemakers,  7  weavers,  5  mat- makers,  4  carpenters,  5  cooks,  4  bakers, 
18  wave  at  work  at  other  trades  on  medical  grounds;  7  were  sick  in  the  infirmary,  and  1 1  were  other  prisoners 
voriDiig  in  the  deaaing  department 

t  The  great  defect  of  the  industrial  training  at  Pentonville  is,  that  it  leads  to  no  definite  end.  The 
^  Model  Prison"  was  originally  designed,  as  we  have  seen,  as  a  kind  of  moral  and  industrial  school  for  con- 


154  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOITOON. 

At  half-past  six,  as  we  said,  the  trade-instractors  go  lotind  the  several  wards  to  see 
whether  the  men  hare  sufficient  work,  though  enough  is  usually  given  out  by  them  on  the 
preceding  day  to  last  the  prisoners  till  eight  or  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning ;  and  early  in 
the  forenoon,  as  we  went  our  roimds  with  the  warder,  we  found,  lying  on  the  asphalte  pave- 
ment in  one  of  the  corridors,  two  large  bright-coloured  mats,  like  hearth-rugs ;  these  were 
the  work,  we  were  told,  of  the  man  in  the  neighbouring  cell. 

"  He's  only  been  four  months  at  mat-making,  sir,"  said  the  trade-warder  to  us ;  ''  and 
yet  he's  very  clever  at  it  now — ^isn't  he  ?" 

yicts  intended  for  transportation  to  the  colonies ;  .and  yet  the  tndee  which  the  men  were  tanght  there  were 
precisely  those  that  were  the  least  of  aU  needed  in  young  countries,  since  the  products  of  the  weavers',  tailors', 
and  shoemakers'  crafts  admit  of  heing  imported  from  other  parts,  so  that  there  is  necessarily  hut  Uttle  demand 
in  those  countries  for  such  forms  of  lahour;  and,  notwithstanding  farming  and  agricultural  work  are 
naturally  the  most  desirable  and  yaluable  of  all  occupations  in  primitive  states,  these  were  exactly  the 
employments  that  were  not  taught  at  the  Model,  even  though  at  the  time  of  its  erection  there  was  no  deficiency 
of  land  in  the  neighbourhood. 

But  if  the  forms  of  labour  taught  at  FentonTille  were  ill-adapted  to  the  requirements  of  the  oonTicts  in 
the  first  instance,  they  are  worse  than  useless  as  a  means  of  benefiting  them  at  present ;  for  now  that  the  trans- 
portation of  offenders  has  been  comparatively  abolished,  and  our  conyicts  are  mostly  sent  to  the  public  works  at 
home,  either  to  labour  in  the  quarries,  or  to  do  mere  manual  work  in  the  arsenal  and  dockyards,  where  on  earth 
can  be  the  good  of  giying  prisoners  a  nine  months'  eoarse  in  tailoring,  shoemaking,  or  weaving,  previous  to  going 
to  such  places  ?  The  main  object,  we  lanoy,  of  teaching  men  trades  in  prison  is  (apart  from  making  them  con- 
tribute to  their  own  support),  to  furnish  them  with  a  means  of  subsistence  on  their  leaving  jaiL  This  should, 
under  a  high  system  of  prison  discipline,  always  constitute  one  of  the  principal  ends  in  view,  viz.,  to  convert  a 
member  of  the  community,  who  is  not  only  valueless,  but  positively  an  incumbrance  to  the  state,  into  a  produc- 
tive agent,  and  so  make  him  individually  contribute  some  little  to,  rather  than  abstracting  a  considerable 
quantity  from,  the  general  stock  of  wealth.  Such  an  end,  however,  can  only  be  attained  by  long- 
continued  industrial  traming  and  teaching,  and  certainly  not  by  putting  men  to  school  for  nine  months 
at  handicrafts  which  require  several  years'  hard  practice  before  any  proficiency  can  be  attained  in  them, 
and  afterwards  setting  these  incipient  tailors,  shoemakers,  and  weavers  to  dig,  drag,  break  stones,  or 
quarry,  according  to  the  exigencies  of  the  pubUo  works.  What  amount  of  skill,  for  instance,  can  possibly 
be  acquired  in  the  arts  of  tailoring,  shoemaking,  or  weaving,  after  working  for  only  three-quarters  of  a 
year  at  the  craft }  The  instruction  in  such  trades,  so  far  frt>m  elevating  a  man  into  the  dignity  of  a  skilled 
labourer,  degrades  him  to  the  level  of  the  slop-worker ;  and  we  have  known  many  such  who,  on  leaving  jail, 
served  only  to  sweU  the  ranks  of  those  rude  and  inexperienced  work-people,  who  become  the  prey  of  the 
cheap  Jew  manufacturers,  and  who,  consequently,  are  made  the  means  of  dragging  down  the  earnings  of  the 
better-class  workman,  while  they  themselves  do  not  get  even  scavengers'  wages  at  the  labour.  Agun,  some 
convicts  learn  in  prison  only  just  sufiicient  of  carpenters'  or  smiths^  work  to  render  them  adepts  in  the  art  of 
housebreaking,  though  mere  bunglers  in  the  fashioning  of  wood  or  metal  into  useful  forms ;  and  we  know 
one  "  cracksman"  who  learnt  his  trade  as  a  burglar  at  the  Government  works  at  Bermuda.  Surely,  how- 
ever, when  convicts  are  sentenced  to  Mverai  yeevrf  penal  servitude,  the  time  might  be  profitably  employed 
in  perfecting  them  in  some  Ofie  handicraft,  rather  than  putting  them  for  a  few  months  to  an  art,  and  then 
keeping  them  for  several  years  afterwards  at  the  ruder  forms  of  manual  labour.  If  it  be  thought  expedient 
to  employ  convicts  at  the  dockyards  and  the  arsenal,  assuredly  in  the  ten  years'  penal  servitude  that  many 
of  the  men  have  to  undergo,  there  would  be  time  enough  to  render  them  experienced  and  skillful  ship-wrig^ts, 
or  anchor-smiths,  or  cannon-founders,  or  sail-makers ;  so  that  not  only  might  they  be  made  to  take  part  in  the 
building  or  fitting  of  our  ships,  but  at  the  expiration  of  their  sentence  they  would,  be  proficients  in  a  trade 
that  would  at  once  yield  them  a  considerable  income^  and  be  an  attractive  and  honourable  art  for  them  to 
pursue ;  whilst  to  those  convicts  who  had  conducted  themselveB  well  during  their  servitude,  the  Govenunent 
might  offer,  on  their  liberation,  to  continue  their  employment  at  the  wages  of  free  men. 

Indeed,  until  some  such  industrial  schools  be  estabhshed  iwpwftetmg  dexterous  prisonem  in  the  hl^er 
forms  of  labour,  in  which  Government  itself  has  the  means  of  flniUng  employment  for  them  when  liberated^ 
there  can  be  but  little  hope  of  reducing  the  criminal  population  of  the  country,  or  of  preventing  those  who 
have  been  once  or  twice  in  prison  continually  retuming  to  it.  The  experience  of  Pentonville  is  so  fkr  aatia- 
factory  that  it  shows  a  strong  desire  on  the  part  of  the  convicts  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the  skilled  forms  <tf 
labour,  as  well  as  great  aptitude  for  learning  such  matters,  for  all  the  prison  authorities  there  agree,  that  the 
majority  of  the  convicts  get  to  think  more  highly  of  themselves,  and  to  have  a  greater  sense  of  self-reliance, 
when  they  find  that  they  are  able  to  produce  the  smallest  article  of  utility;  so  that  it  is  really  laaentable  to 
pee  such  experience  wasted  as  it  is  at  the  present  day. 


in  PtaologTuplu  bj  Herbert  n'iUiil>>  179,  Bcfoit  Btnat. 


PENTONVILLE  PKISON.  155 

"It's  astoiiiflhiiig/'  rejoined  our  guide,  **  the  quickness  that  some  men  display  at  leaming 
their  trades." 

The  trade-instractor  proceeded  to  spread  the  rugs  out  upon  the  pavement,  so  that  we 
might  see  them  to  better  adyaatage.  They  were  both  of  a  kind  of  rude  velvet  pile- work, 
and  the  one  had  a  blue  ground,  with  a  red  and  white  pattern  tastefully  worked  upon  it, 
while  the  ground  of  the  other  was  a  chocolate-brown,  with  red  aud  blue  figures.  They  had 
heexL  made  by  the  same  man,  aud  the  trade-instructor,  we  could  see,  was  not  a  Uttle  proud 
of  his  pupil. 

After  this  we  were  led  by  our  guide  to  the  shoemakers'  little  shop,  at  the  comer  of  one 
of  the  oonidors.  Here,  of  course,  there  was  a  strong  smell  of  leather,  aud  the  place  was 
littered  with  lasts,  and  boots,  and  small  stacks  of  soles,  like  cakes  of  gutta-percha.  The 
officer  wbo  had  charge  of  the  shop  showed  us  a  pair  of  high-lows  that  had  been  made  in  the 
prison  by  an  agricultural  labourer.  "  He  had  never  put  stitch  to  leather,  sir,  before  coming 
into  the  prison,"  said  the  official,  as  he  twisted  the  boots  over  and  over  for  our  inspection. 
Then  he  produced  a  pair  of  convict  boots  with  upper  leathers  as  stiff  as  mill-board,  and 
heavy  soles  the  hob-nails  upon  which  reminded  one  of  a  prison-door.  These  had  been  made 
by  a  farm  servant  who  is  a  convict,  and  were  worth,  said  the  officer,  "at  least  twelve 
shillings."  Some  men,  he  informed  us,  would  do  a  pair  of  such  boots  in  the  course  of  a  day's 
work  at  Pentonville,  which  was  not  like  a  day  outside,  he  continued,  on  account  of  the  many 
interruptions. 

'*  If  s  strange,"  repeated  our  attendant  warder,  "  how  some  men  pick  up  a  trade.  We 
always  find  farm  servants  learn  the  quickest,  and  that  simply  because  they  aint  above  doing 
as  they  are  told,  like  the  well-educated  clerks  and  others  that  we  get  here."  The  trade< 
instructor  then  produced  a  pair  of  cloth  boots,  with  patent  leather  at  the  toes  and  sides;  these 
had  been  made,  he  told  us,  by  one  who  was  not  a  very  good  hand  when  he  came  to  the  prison, 
but  had  so  far  improved  as  to  turn  out  a  pair  of  boots  like  those,  which  would  pass  muster  in 
many  a  shop." 

Kezt  we  were  shown  a  pair  with  elastic  sides.  ''A  farm-labouring  lad  closed  that  pair," 
he  went  on,  "  and  a  regular  shoemaker  (who  is  in  the  prison)  finished  them." 

After  this  we  descended  to  the  steward's  stores  in  the  basement  of  the  building.  Here 
we  found  immense  rolls  of  the  peculiar  gingerbread-coloured  convict  cloth,  with  a  red 
stripe  in  it ;  and  there  was  the  usual  wooUen-drapery  smell  clinging  to  the  place. 

"  We  supply  all  the  Government  prisons,  sir,  with  the  convict  cloth,"  said  the  store- 
keeper ;  "  and  in  some  years  we  weave  upwards  of  50,000  yards  here.  But  we  not  only 
weave  the  doth,  sir — ^we  make  up  the  clothes  as  well ;  and  in  the  year  1858  the  tailors  here 
turned  out  more  than  5,000  jackets,  4,000  vests,  and  nearly  7,000  trousers,  besides  repairing 
4,500  old  ones ;  and  that  isn't  such  a  very  bad  allowance  of  work,  seeing  that  we  had  only 
150  tailors  in  the  prison. 

'^ Perhaps  you've  seen  some  of  the  shoes  we  make  here,  sir?"  continued  the  store- 
keeper, as  he  grew  proud  of  the  prison  labour. 

"  That's  what  I  call  a  good,  strong,  usefdl  article,"  exclaimed  the  clerk,  as  he  produced 
a  pair  of  the  heavy  convict  boots  before  described ;  **  and  it's  quite  a  credit  to  the  men  how 
readily  they  take  to  the  work.  A  year  or  two  ago,  sir,  we  manufactured  very  nearly  5,000 
pftirs  of  boots  and  shoes  for  the  (jovemment  prisons." 

Then  the  attendant  drew  our  attention  to  some  really  handsome  mats  and  rugs,  the  sur- 
face of  which  was  almost  like  Utrecht  velvet.  "  Some  of  those,  sir,  I  call  uncommon  tasty 
thiags,"  continued  the  official,  ''  and  such  as  no  regolar  fisustory  might  be  ashamed  of.  Our 
average  manufacture  here  is  about  4,000  of  those  bordered  mats  and  rugs,  and  about  2,000 
of  those  '  double-thrumb '  there,"  he  added,  as  he  directed  our  attention  to  a  commoner  sort. 
*'  Yes,  sir,  a  man  gets  to  see  his  value  when  he  begins  to  do  such  thingsas  those.  Besides 
thisy  we  make  up  all  the  hammocks  for  the  men  at  the  Hulks  and  at  Chatham." 
11 


156 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


"HavG  you  got  a  hammock  yon  can  let  the  gentleiKiatL  see?''  asked  tlie  guide  of  the 
storekeeper. 

"Oh,  yes !  certainly,"  was  the  willing  reply,  as  the  man  htirried  off  to  produce  one  of  the 
convict  beds. 

"There,  now,  that's  a  really  good,  strong,  serviceable  hammock,  sir,  as  good  a  one  as  could 
be  bought  in  the  shops.  It's  for  Chatham,  I  believe ;  for  I  know  we've  got  an  order  for 
that  place.  Lost  year  we  made  up  more  than  500  hammocks  here,  and  fitted  the  heads  and 
supplied  double  the  number  of  straps  and  girths.  Our  shoemakers  make  the  one,  and  ihc 
tailors  the  others.  Then,  again,  we  manufacture  all  the  chock-lining,  and  all  the  twill  for 
the  convicts'  handkerchiefs,  besides  about  10,000  yards  of  shirting  for  the  prisoners,  and 
some  5,000  yards  of  sheeting  and  towelling  as  well.  Yes,  sir,  everything  mode  for  the 
convicts  has  a  red  stripe  in  it — sheets,  stockings,  towels,  flannels,  and  all.  We  make  those 
bed-rugs,  too,  sir,"  added  the  officer,  pointing  up  to  a  roll  of  yellowish-brown  counterpanes, 
that  were  packed  above  the  large  presses.  "  We  supply  all  the  convict  prisons  with  those 
rugs.  We  make,  indeed,  almost  every  bit  of  clothing  that  the  convicts  require.  The  work 
makes  a  man  think  more  of  himself  than  if  he  could  do  nothing." 

We  inquired  as  to  the  time  it  took  for  the  convicts  to  learn  the  different  trades. 

"Now  that  twiU,  sir,  is  beautifully  done;  and  a  man  will  do  such  an  one  after  two  months 
teaching,"  was  the  reply.  "  I  don't  think  that  the  prisoner  who  made  that  has  been  quite 
so  long  here.  In  three  months  we  reckon  that  a  man  ought  to  be  able  to  sew  all  prison 
garments,  or,  if  he's  been  put  to  shoemaking,  to  make  the  prison  boots  and  shoes.  Some  do 
it  in  less  time,  and  some  never  do  it  at  all.  In  each  ward,  you  see,  sir,"  continued  the  store- 
keeper, "there  is  a  discipline  officer  that  we  call  the  trade-instructor,  or  trade- warder,  and 
he  has  to  take  part  in  the  prison  discipline  as  well  as  to  teach  the  men  their  work ;  and  for 
that  purpose  he  has  to  see  his  prisoner  in  his  cell  as  often  as  he  can,  and  to  show  him  how  to 
do  the  work,  as  well  as  to  observe  how  he  gets  on.  We've  got  twelve  such  instructors  here, 
sir,  and  they  take  their  turn  at  watching  every  sixth  night,  as  well  as  the  regular  warders — 
they're  on  duty  from  six  in  the  morning  until  six  at  night,  just  the  same  as  the  other  officers." 

In  answer  to  a  question  of  ours  as  to  whether  the  prisoners  received  any  reward  for  their 
labour,  and  whether  they  had  a  certain  task  or  quantity  of  work  given  out  to  them,  the 
official  informed  us  that  after  a  man  had  been  six  months  in  the  prison,  and  he  had  obtained 
a  badge  for  good  conduct,  he  was  entitled  to  receive  a  certain  gratuity,  which  varied  from 
fourpence  to  eightpence  a  week,  according  to  the  work  done.*     "  This  gratuity,"  he  added, 

*  We  subjoin  the  official  regulations  concerning  the  remuneration  given  to  the  prisoners  for  their  work : — 
'*  The  following  Rules  and  Scale  for  Regulating  Gratuities  to  Convicts  in  Separate  Gonfinemeut  for  work 

performed  will  be  for  the  present  in  force  :— 

**  1.  Prisoners  who  have  passed  six  months  in  the  prison,  and  whose  good  conduct  entitles  them  to  a 

badge,  will  be  credited  with  gratuities  according  to  the  following  scale,  viz.  :— 


Trade  or  Occupation. 


Shoemakers  (work  equal  to) 

Tailors 

Mat^workers 

Cloth-weavers 


Ad.  per  Week. 


Cotton  weavers        „ 
Cotton  Handkerchiefs 


2)  paii's  of  Shoes 
2  suits  of  Prison  Garments 
36  square  feet  (red  bordered) 
33  yards  of  Prison  Cloth,  in- 
cluding winding  bobbins 
24  yards 
2  dozen  Handkerchiefs 


M.  per  Week. 


3  pairs 

3  suits 
45  square  feet 
36  yards 

30  yards 
2^  doEen 


M.  per  Week. 


4  pairs 

4  suits 

54  square  feet 
42  7ards 

36  yards 
3  dozen 


Carpenters  • 
Smiths  .  . 
Other  Trades 
Cooks . 

Bakers     .    .  ] 
VTashers  .    .     6(f. 


• 


according  to  industry  and  snpeiior  workmanship. 


hd,  per  week. 


PENTOinrnXE  PRISON.  167 

"is  placed  to  Uie  coBTict's  account  in  the  prison  books,  and  transferred  to  the  public  works 
Trhen  he  leaves  here,  so  that  it  goes  to  form  a  Aind  for  him  on  the  expiration  of  his  tertn 
of  imprisonment.  Some  long-sentence  men  have  as  much  as  £20  to  receive  on  getting 
their  liberty,  and  then  they  have  a  good  suit  of  clothes  given  to  them  as  well — according  to 
their  station — in  order  that  they  may  have  a  fair  start  in  the  world  again." 

"  "Would  you  like  to  see  some  of  the  *  liberty  clothing,*  sir  ?  "  inquired  the  storekeeper, 
as  he  pulled  down  a  bxmdle  of  new  clothes.  "  There,  sir,"  he  continued,  "  that's  as  genteel 
a  paletot  as  a  man  could  wish  to  put  on,  and  one  in  which  no  one  could  be  taken  for  a 
person  just  fresh  from  a  convict  prison.  We  give  such  as  these  to  men  who  have  been 
clerks  or  better-class  mechanics.  We  buy  them,  I  should  tell  you,  and  they  stand  us  in 
about  fifteen  shillings  the  suit.  The  clothing  for  the  prisoners  who  have  been  farm  servants 
and  agricultural  labourers,  we  mostly  make  ourselves.  That  bale  of  moleskin  you  see  there," 
he  added,  pointing  to  a  roll  of  mouse-coloured  fustian,  "  is  intended  for  those  who  have 
been  labouring  men,  and  who  may  be  released  upon  ticket-of-leave." 

*'  I  know  a  man,"  chimed  in  our  attendant  waarder,  "  who  was  a  forger,  and  had  seven 
years  of  it,  but  he  got  off  with  a  ticket-of-leave,  and  is  now  earning  his  three  pounds  a  week 
regular,  at  a  respectable  trade.  Ifs  quite  wonderftil  what  a  few  ticket-of-leave  men  come 
back,  sir,  whatever  people  may  say." 

From  the  store-rooms,  we  passed  into  the  shops  and  wards  for  tJie  associated  prisoners. 

We  have  before  said  that  the  A,  B,  and  C  divisions  of  PentonviUo  Prison  have  only  three 
wards  in  connection  with  them,  whilst  the  D  division  has  four,  viz. :  one  tmder-ground,  or 
in  the  basement  of  the  building,  where  some  thirty  associated  prisoners  have  their  cells. 
This  is  somewhat  like  a  crypt,  and  was  formerly  the  old  refractory-ward ;  but  since  the 
modification  of  the  separate  system  at  Pentonville,  and  the  admission  of  a  small  number  of 
the  best-conducted  prisoners  to  associated  labour,  the  lower  part  of  the  prison  has  been 
devoted  to  this  purpose. 

"  It's  only  the  very  weU-behaved  men  that  we  put  into  association,  sir,"  said  the  warder 
who  still  accompanied  us  on  our  rounds ;  "  we  very  rarely  allow  prisoners  to  associate  who 
have  been  even  so  much  as  once  reported ;  and  it's  merely  on  medical  grounds  if  we  do  occa- 
sionally break  through  the  rules.  The  cleaners  you  saw  this  morning,  sir,"  continued  the  officer, 
"  and  the  prisoners  working  out  in  the  grounds,  and  the  carpenters  and  blacksmiths  put  to 
labour  in  the  shops,  under  C  divison,  as  well  as  the  men  in  the  bakehouse  and  kitchen,  are 
aU  chosen  from  the  best  class  of  prisoners ;  for  the  liberty  to  labour  in  common,  with  the 
cap-peak  up,  is  one  of  the  highest  rewards  we  have  here  for  good  conduct. 

**  This  is  the  tailors'  shop,  or  cutting-room,"  said  our  guide,  as  he  led  us  down  a  passage 
out  of  the  associated  ward  towards  a  largish  room,  that  had  a  kind  of  dresser  or  shop-board 
along  one  side  of  it.  Here  we  found  the  place  littered  with  bales  of  cloth,  and  three  prisoners 
at  work ;  one  seated  on  the  board  cross-legged  like  an  Indian  idol,  and  without  shoes  or 
braces,  in  true  tailor  fashion,  whilst  he  stitched  away  at  a  "  bespoke "  waistcoat ;  and  the 
other  two  cutting  out  the  brown  convict  cloth  with  huge  shears,  the  blades  of  which  gnashed 
at  every  snip.  Here,  too,  there  was  the  same  unpleasant  smell  of  scorched  wool,  or  hair,  so 
peculiar  to  Sartorian  establishments,  and  which  seems  to  be  a  kind  of  odoriferous  mixture  of 
a  washerwoman's  ironing-room  and  a  barber's  shop.   One  of  the  convicts  at  work  in  this  shop, 

**2.  No  gratuity  will  be  allowed  unless  the  work  be  done  to  tbe  satisfaction  of  the  maniifacturer. 

'*  3.  No  prisoner  on  the  sick  list  will  be  allowed  any  gratuity  while  unable  to  work. 

*<  4.  No  fraction  of  a  week  can  be  allowed. 

**  o.  No  prisoner  under  punishment  aliall  be  allowed  any  gratuity  for  the  week  in  which  he  may  be 
p:miabed. 

"  6.  Any  prisoner  fcn-feiting  his  badge  will  ccaBe  to  be  credited  with  a  gratuity  until  he  has  regained  his 
badge ;  and  in  the  event  of  the  prisoner  committing  a  serious  offence,  he  may,  at  the  discretion  of  the 
directon,  be  liable  to  forfeit  all  former  gratuity  to  which  he  would  otherwise  have  had  a  claim." 


158  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

and  who  had  formerly  heen  employed  as  cutter  at  a  lai^  outfitting  warehouse,  showed  us 
the  American  sewing-machine  that  was  occasionally  employed  at  Pentonyille  for  stitching  the 
seams  of  the  prison  trousers. 

Hence  we  passed  to  the  shop  where  the  warps  are  arranged  for  the  convict  weavers,  and 
the  floor  of  this  place  was  littered  with  baskets  full  of  red  and  brown  thread,  whilst  there 
were  large  hanks  or  skeins  of  blue  and  white  yam  lying  about.  Here  were  four  men  engaged 
in  preparing  the  warp  for  a  piece  of  prison  handkerchiefs,  two  were  winding  the  threads, 
whilst  the  others  were  busy  holding  the  large  comb  through  the  teeth  of  which  the  threads 
passed. 

One  of  these  men  was  of  ''noble  fEimily/'  and  had  been  convicted  for  forgery  in  a  mer- 
chant's office. 

From  this  we  went  to  the  shop  for  the  associated  mat-makers,  where  the  mats  that  are  made 
in  the  cells  are  cut  to  a  uniform  length  of  pile,  by  means  of  a  shearing-machine  that  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  room.  The  three  prisoners  engaged  at  this  work  were,  when  we  entered, 
busy  setting  the  spiral  knives  that  extend  from  end  to  end  along  the  narrow  cylinder;  and 
when  the  cutters  were  sharp  enough  a  mat  was  put  through  and  through  the  machine, 
whilst  one  turned  the  wheel  and  the  others  helped  to  pass  the  mat  in  and  out  the  instru- 
ment, the  air  being  charged  with  a  cloud  of  fibres  by  the  time  the  operation  was  finished. 
Here,  too,  were  bundles  of  coir,  and  large  sheep-shears  for  clipping  the  coarser  kind 
of  mats. 

After  this  we  were  led  back  to  the  A  division  of  the  building,  where,  it  was  explained  to 
us,  convicts  who  had  been  nine  months  and  more  in  separate  confinement  were  placed,  and 
allowed  to  work  with  their  cell-doors  open  from  nine  till  one,  and  from  two  till  five  every 
day  except  Sundays.*  Finally,  we  learnt  that  the  estimated  amount  of  the  earnings  of 
the  gross  number  of  prisoners  in  Pentonville,  in  1854,  was,  in  round  numbers,  £2,850; 
whilst  the  gross  expense  of  the  prison  was  nearly  £17,000; — so  that  the  convicts  at  the 
establishment  contribute  not  quite  one-sixth  to  the  annual  cost  of  the  establishment — indeed, 

*  We  append  the  official  rules  concerning  the  asaociatLon  of  those  convicts  who  have  been  upwards  of  nine 
months  on  separate  confinement : — 

"  Prisoners  who  shall  have  been  nine  months  and  upwards  in  this,  or  any  other  separate  prison,  since 
conyiction,  are  to  occupy  the  cells  in  A  diyision,  and  undergo  the  discipline  presently  described. 

*^  As  a  general  rule  they  must  be  qualified  with  one  or  more  good  conduct  badges ;  nevertheless,  prisoners 
who  shall  not  have  been  in  this  prison  long  enough  to  have  obtained  a  badge— but  whose  good  conduct,  in 
this  and  other  separate  prisons,  since  conviction,  would  entitle  them  thereto,  had  the  whole  time  been  paased 
in  this  prison — will  be  eligible  for  the  privilege. 

"  The  loss  of,  or  misconduct  which  would  incur  the  loss  of  badges,  if  possessed,  will  be  a  disqualification. 

''The  cell-doors  (circumstances  permitting)  are  always,  except  on  Sundays,  to  be  open  from  9  till  1,  and 
from  2  till  6  o'clock.  The  prisonears  may  sit  dose  thereto,  and  work  with  cap-peaks  turned  up,  but  not  pass 
out  of  their  cells  or  other  places  assigned  to  them,  as  presently  mentioned ;  or  intercommunicate,  or  in  any 
way  violate  good  order. 

"  Should  the  qualified  prisoners  exceed  the  number  of  cells  in  A  division,  the  excess  are  to  be 
brought,  during  the  hours  aforesaid,  from  the  other  divisions  into  the  corridor  of  that  division,  and  kept 
together  according  to  their  trades,  and  the  divisions  whence  they  came,  but  each  apart  at  least  —  feet  from 
the  others. 

<'  These  are  to  bring  with  them  their  necessary  work-seats,  tools,  and  implements  for  labour,  and  remove 
them  back  again  on  return  to  their  cells.  > 

''Medical  prisoners  (so  far  as  circumstances  permit)  are  to  be  subject  to  the  same  form  of  discipline, 
but  to  be  kept  together,  and,  as  a  body,  as  far  apart  as  possible  from  the  others. 

"  The  manufacturer  is  to  arrange  that  the  prisoners  generally  are  properly  attended  to  and  instructed  in 
trades.  Besides  the  proper  discipline  officers  of  A  division,  and  the  trade-warders,  who  impart  instruction,  at 
least  two  will  be  appointed  specially  to  exercise  supervision,  to  be  selected  alternately  from  the  different 
divisions  and  wards,  with  regard  to  a  strict  equalization  of  time  and  labour. 

"  The  prisoners  are  to  be  exercised  with  cap-peaks  turned  up,  two  hours,  and  one  hour  on  alteixiate 
days." 


PENTONVILLE  PMSON. 


159 


the  estimated  value  of  fheir  labour  is  but  one-half  that  of  their  food,  so  that  the  convicts 
there  are  still  far  fh>m  being  a  self-supporting  body.* 

%*  CUmng  the  Piriton  for  the  Night — ^The  remainder  of  the  routine  at  Pentonville  con- 
sistB  merely  of  repetitions  of  processes  that  have  been  already  described. 

At  one  o'clock  the  prisoners  dine  (the  principals,  as  usual,  having  taken  their  meal  pre- 
viously), and  the  distribution  of  the  dinner  is  effected  in  the  same  manner  as  that  of  the 
breakfast,  with  the  exception  that  it  is  served  up  from  the  kitchen  (where  each  portion  is 
regularly  weighed)  in  wooden  trays,  each  containing  sixteen  tins — ^not  unlike  the  vessels  in 
which  bill-stickers  cairy  their  paste — Shaving  a  division  in  the  middle,  on  one  side  of  which 
the  potatoes  are  placed,  and  on  the  other  the  meat  and  soup. 

This  soup  we  were  invited  to  try,  of  course,  and  found  it  far  superior  to  the  thickened 
traah  sold  at  the  pastry-cooks',  and  reaily  tasting  of  meat  instead  of  flour.  We  discovered  at 
the  same  time,  too,  that  the  convicts  in  the  infirmary  were  allowed  their  mug  of  porter  in 
addition  to  the  mutton-chop  or  bit  of  codfish  that  may  have  been  ordered  for  their  dinner. 

Then  at  half-past  five  the  prisoners  have  their  supper  of  gruel  and  bread,  and  the  work  is 
given  out  by  the  trade-instructor  for  the  next  day.  A  little  before  six  o'clock  two  warders  go 
round  each  ward — one  a-head  turning  the  tops  of  the  gas-pipes,  whilst  the  other  lets  down 
the  trap  of  each  cell^door,  and  introduces  a  small  lantern  for  the  prisoner  to  light  the  jet  in 
his  cell.  After  this  the  officers  assemble  in  the  centre  corridor  previous  to  going  off  duty — 
each  with  his  great-coat  on  and  his  keys  in  his  hand  ready  to  be  delivered  up  to  his  principal. 
Then  the  chief  warder  cries,  'Tall  in!"  and  ''  'Tention!"  as  at  the  morning  parade;  where- 
upon, the  warders  being  arranged  in  rank  and  file,  the  bead  officer  reads  over  the  list  of 
prisoners  who  have  been  received  that  day,  as  weU  as  the  register-number  of  those  who 
are  to  be  specially  watched  on  account  of  their  having  attempted  to  escape  from  other  prisons. 

Then  the  keys  are  collected  from  the  discipline  officers  (those  of  the  non-discipline 
officers — such  as  the  cook,  baker,  plumber,  engineer,  &c. — ^having  been  given  up  at  the  gate 
some  five  minutes  before),  and  this  is  done  in  the  entrance  passage,  the  same  as  during  the 
giving  of  them  out  in  the  morning — ^the  key-box  being  placed  upon  a  chair,  and  each  man 
proceeding  to  hang  up  his  bunch  on  the  hook  assigned  to  him,  while  one  of  the  principal  warders 
standing  by  sees  that  the  number  tallies  with  the  list  on  the  back  of  the  box.  At  this 
hour  all  but  eight  sets  of  keys  are  delivered  in,  four  of  which  remain  to  be  collected  at  the 
final  closing  of  the  prison  at  ten  at  night.  And  when  the  principal  has  satisfied  himself  that 
all  the  keys  which  should  be  delivered  in  at  six  are  there,  the  box  is  removed  to  the  iron-safe 
in  the  chief  warder's  room  by  way  of  security. 

At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  the  prisoners'  work  is  suspended,  and  then  there  is 


•  The  annexed  are  the  official  retams  in  connection  with  this  part  of  the  subject  :— 

STATBHEMT  6f  THB  AYBUAOB   HVMBEa  OF  PBI80NBR8  BHPLOYKD  IN  BACH  TRADB,   AND  TBB  BBTIXATBD 

AMOUNT  OF  BARNINOS  FEB  PIUaONBR. 


Ayenige 
Number  of 

Prlaonen 
employed. 


181 

107 

108 

81 

30 

16 


623 


Traden. 


Tailors 

WeftTCTB  ..... 

Shoemakers      .... 
Matmakers       .... 
BricUayers,  carpenters,  and  smiths 
Sick 


Total  Earnings. 


£  B.  d. 

708  6  3| 

1,096  13  2 

567  13  2 

365  5  6i 

116  1  6 
Nil. 


£2,863  18    6} 


Arerage 

Earnings  per 

Prisoner. 


j6   8.      d. 

3  18     2f 
10    4  ll| 

6     5     1 

4  10    2\ 
8  14    Oi 

NU. 


160  THE  GKE&IT  WX)SLD  OF  LONDON. 

Bcarooly  a  sound,  except  that  of  the  oooa^onal  stroke  of  the  gong,  t6  bo  heard  in  the  oomdois. 
Prom  this  time  till  nine  o'clock,  the  prisoners  are  allowed  to  read  such  books  as  they  may 
have  obtained  from  the  library.  To  show  us  that  the  men  were  generally  so  occupied,  tho 
officer  who  had  attended  us  throtkghout  the  day  led  us  now  from  cell  to  celli  and  drew  aside 
tho  small  metal  screen  that  hung  down  before  the  Httle  peep-hole  in  each  door,  when,  on 
looking  through  it,  we  found  almost  every  prisoner  whom  we  peeped  in  upon  seated  close  to 
ihe  gas-light,  and  busily  engaged  in  perusing  either  some  book  er  periodical  that  was  spread 
out  before  him. 

Eight  o'clock  is  the  hour  for  the  table,  tools,  tub,  &c.,  to  be  placed  outside  the  cell-door  of 
those  convicts  who  have  attempted  to  break  out  of  priscm ;  the  tools  and  brooms  of  all  other 
convicts  confined  within  the  walls  are  also  put  out  at  the  same  hour.  The  prison  now  once 
more  resounds  with  the  successive  slamming  of  some  hundred  doors,  and  scarcely  has  this 
ceased  before  the  noise  is  heard  of  the  warder  double-locking  each  prisoner's  cell,  while  the 
officers  are  seen  flitting  along  in  the  dusk  of  the  corridors  as  they  pass  rapidly  from  door 
to  door. 

This  done,  the  night-duty  roll  is  placed  upon  the  desk  in  the  centre  corridor,  inscribed 
with  tho  number  of  prisoners  contained  in  each  of  the  wards  of  the  four  divisions  of  the  prison, 
together  with  the  name  of  the  officer  attached  to  each  of  those  divisions  for  the  night. 

At  a  quarter  to  nine,  the  last  bell  rings  for  the  prisoners  to  prepare  for  bed,  as  well  as 
for  the  dangerous  or  suspicious  men  to  put  out  their  dothes,  so  that  in  case  of  their  breaking 
prison  in  the  night  they  may  have  nothing  to  go  away  in ;  after  this  the  cell-lights  are 
extinguished,  the  sailor-like  cutlasses  that  are  worn  by  the  warders  during  the  night  arc 
brought  out,  and  placed  ready  in  the  corner  of  the  central  corridor,  whilst  the  warders  on  duty 
pass  rapidly  along,  turning  the  tap  of  each  gas-jet  outside  every  cell  as  they  go.  Then  the 
corridor  lights  are  lowered,  and  the  officers  put  on  their  felt  overshoes,  so  that  by  the  time  the 
hour  of  nine  sounds  through  the  galleries,  all  is  as  stiU  as  a  catacomb— the  few  remaining 
gas-lights  shining  in  the  black  pavement  in  long,  yellow,  luminous  lines,  and  the  only  sound 
heard  there  being  the  faint  jangling  of  the  warder's  keys,  as  he  moves  from  place  to  place. 
Nor  is  there  any  other  living  creature  seen  moving  about,  excepting  the  solitary  "  convict-cat*' 
that  is  attached  to  the  prison. 

Now  begins  the  inspection  of  every  part  of  the  building,  and  the  trial  of  every  outlet,  in 
order  to  be  assured  that  all  is  safe  for  the  night. 

We  followed  the  principal  warder  on  his  rounds  to  ascc^rtain  the  security  of  tho  place, 
and  first  mounted  to  the  warders*  sleeping-room,  where  the  officers  who  are  on  duty  for  the 
night  retire  to  rest,  until  the  time  for  their  watch  comes  on.  Here  in  one  comer  was  an 
alarum  fastened  to  the  wall ;  this  was  to  rouse  the  warders,  and  had  a  series  of  pendulums 
marked  A,  B,  0,  D,  to  indicate  the  division  of  the  prison  whence  the  signal  might  come. 
The  alarum  was  set  by  the  principal  for  the  night,  so  Uiat  the  officer  on  duty  might  ring  it  in 
case  of  danger. 

Thence  we  were  led  into  the  chapel  with  merely  a  bull's-eye  lantern  to  light  us  by  the 
way,  and  we  went  scrambling  up  the  dark  stairs,  one  after  another,  as  hard  as  we  could  go, 
for  there  are  upwards  of  sixty  doors  to  see  secured,  and  every  part  of  the  enormous  building 
but  tho  cells— within  and  without — above  and  below — to  be  visited  within  the  hour.  Tho 
chapel  was  pitch  dark,  but  the  warder's  lantern  was  flickered  into  every  comer,  so  that  the 
officers  might  satisfy  themselves  that  no  one  was  hidden  there. 

After  this  we  hurried  away,  up  the  clock-tower,  to  the  chapel  roof,  and  when  we  had 
thoroughly  examined  this,  we  hastened  down  again,  the  warders  telling  strange  stories  by  the 
way  of  iagenious  escapes ;  as  to  how  one  Hackett  had  cut  a  passage  for  his  body  through  the 
floor  of  his  chapel-stall  during  divine  service,  and  escaped  through  a  small  hole  in  the  wall 
made  for  the  purposes  of  ventilation ;  and  how,  too,  another  convict  had  oast  a  key  to  fit 
his  door  out  of  a  piece  of  the  water-pipe  in  his  cell,  but  had  been  detected,  after  opening  his 


PENTONYILLE  PEISON.  161 

door,  oiring  to  the  metal  of  the  key  being  so  soft  that  it  bent  in  the  lock,  and  rendered  it 
impoflsible  to  be  withdrawn. 

Then  we  passed  along  the  eoiridors,  to  try  the  gates  and  side-doors  leading  to  the 
exeroifiiiig  grounds,  and,  finding  these  all  lost,  we  hastened  down  the  spiral  stairs  to  the 
associated  ward  below ;  and  here  ihe  warder  and  the  principal  proceeded  to  lock  the  passage 
doors  one  after  another — ^the  noise  of  the  bolts  flying,  sounding  in  the  silence  under  ground 
with  a  doable  intensity. 

This  done,  we  returned  once  more  to  the  corridors,  and  looked  to  the  other  outlets  to  the 
eoceicisiiig  yards,  the  tramp  of  the  feet  as  we  went  being  echoed  through  the  building, 
till  it  seemed  like  the  march  of  many  troops  heard  in  the  night. 

Now  we  hastened  below  into  the  basement  of  corridor  C,  where  we  saw  that  the 
carpenters'  and  blacksmiths'  shops  were  all  safe,  and  examined  as  to  whether  the  ladders  were 
duly  chained  up  for  the  night;  whereupon,  on  ascending  the  steps  again,  one  of  the  warders 
proceeded  to  fasten  down  the  trap  at  the  top  of  the  stairs. 

The  next  part  of  the  duty  was  to  inspect  the  refractory  ward,  and  here  the  door  of  one 
of  the  dark  cells  was  opened,  so  as  to  see  whether  the  prisoner  was  safe. 

''All  right,  boy,  eh  ?  "  cried  the  officer,  as  he  whisked  the  light  of  his  bull's-eye  full  into 
the  face  of  the  wretched  lad,  who  lay  huddled  up  in  his  rug  on  the  rude  wooden  couch,  but 
who  gave  no  answer  in  return. 

"  He'll  be  up  in  the  morning,"  said  the  other  warder,  as  he  suddenly  closed  the  door, 
and  made  the  building  ring  again  with  the  deep  metallic  sound.  "  He's  the  only  one  we've 
got  in  to-night." 

On  this  being  completed,  we  hastened  back  to  the  centre  corridor,  and  passing  through  the 
glass  doors,  commenced  inspecting  the  seyeral  offices  on  either  side  of  the  passage,  whilst 
the  warders  raked  out  the  expiring  fires  in  those  rooms  that  had  been  used  up  till  a  late 
hour. 

Henoe  we  harried,  all  of  us,  up  the  stairs  to  the  iofirmary  wards,  where  we  found  the 
two  inyalids  asleep,  and  the  infirmary  warder  there  seated  by  their  side;  and  thence  we 
descended  to  the  reception  wards  below,  and  inspected  every  hole  and  comer  of  them. 

From  this  part  of  the  building  we  stepped  out  into  the  grounds — ^the  sound  of  the  feet, 
grating  on  the  gravel  as  we  paced  along,  seeming  almost  to  startle  the  intense  stillness  of 
the  place ;  and  thus  we  passed  first  into  the  steward's  offices  to  see  that  the  fires,  &o.,  were 
safe,  and  afterwards  across  the  yard  into  the  stores,  the  tramp  of  the  many  boots  along  the 
wooden  passage  now  filling  the  bmlding  with  a  hollow  noise. 

Here,  dark  as  the  place  was,  wo  could  still  tell  by  the  smell — ^now  of  cloth,  then  of 
leather,  and  then  of  the  yam  for  warping — i^e  character  of  the  stores  we  were  passing  by 
the  way;  whilst,  on  entering  the  kitchen,  the  pent-up  heat  and  odour  of  cooking,  and  the 
scrunching  of  the  sanded  fioor  under  the  solo  of  the  foot,  were  sufficient,  without  the  light  of 
the  lantern,  to  tell  us  whereabouts  we  were. 

Next  we  entered  the  bakehouse,  where  there  was  a  peculiar  smell  of  bread  and  flour, 
and  after  that  we  went  into  the  steward's  provision  store,  and  hero  was  a  characteristic 
pcrfome  of  cocoa,  oatmeal,  and  treacle  all  blent  together. 

From  the  latter  part  of  the  building  we  passed  for  a  moment  or  two  into  the  exercising 
ground.  The  bleak  March  air  rushed  in  as  soon  as  the  side-door  was  opened,  and  the  moon- 
light sky  without  looked  as  uninviting  and  cold  as  steel,  so  that  it  set  one  shivering  to  step 
into  the  air  after  the  stifling  heat  of  the  kitchen. 

On  our  return  thence  the  warders  entered  their  own  mess-room ;  and,  having  put  on 
their  great-coats,  they  sallied  forth  to  the  prison  grounds  once  more,  but  now  leaving  their 
lamps  behind.  This  was  done  to  see  whether  there  were  any  lights  in  the  cells,  for  the 
prisoners,  they  said,  occasionally  made  candles  out  of  their  meat-fat  and  pieces  of  the  thread 
supplied  fliem  for  their  work.    By  examining  the  building  from  without  they  were  enabled 


162  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LOl^DON. 

to  detect  any  improper  lights  burning  within  it.  Accordingly,  the  officers  retired  far  back  to 
the  grasB-plots,  and  there  turned  round  to  gaze  up  at  the  several  wings  of  the  prison.  The 
walls  and  windows,  however,  were  pitch-black  in  the  darkness,  with  the  exception  of  the  long 
streaks  of  yellow  light  shining  through  the  casements  of  the  corridors.  When  the  officers 
had  satisfied  themselves  that  all  was  right  here,  they  proceeded  to  try  the  several  entrances  to 
the  building  from  the  outside,  as  they  passed  round  within  the  walls. 

At  length  we  returned  to  the  warders'  mess  again,  where  we  found  another  officer  raking 
out  the  remains  of  the  mess-room  fire  for  the  night.  And  thus  ended  the  inspection  of  the 
prison,  the  search  having  occupied  near  upon  an  hour,  although  it  was  executed  at  a  most 
rapid  pace;  for  there  were  some  scores  of  rooms  and  shops  to  examine  and  ''secure,"  besides 
no  end  of  doors  to  fasten,  and  many  a  flight  of  stairs  to  ascend,  in  addition  to  making  the 
entire  circuit  of  the  grounds. 

Stni  the  last  office  of  all  had  to  be  performed — ^the  four  of  the  eight  sets  of  keys  that 
were  retained  at  the  six  o'clock  muster  had  now  to  be  delivered  up.  These  were  handed 
over  by  the  warders  going  off  duty  at  ten  o'clock,  to  the  principal  on  special  duty  for  the 
night,  and  by  him  carried  to  the  chief  warder's  room,  where  they  were  placed  with  the  rest 
in  the  iron-safe,  and  the  metal  door  securely  locked  for  the  night. 

Then  the  fire  annihilators  that  stood  in  the  comer  of  the  apartment  were  duly  looked  to, 
and  the  prison  finally  reported  to  the  governor  as  ''  all  secure." 


A  Sunday  Morning  at  PentonmUe, 

Strange  and  interesting  as  are  the  scenes  witnessed  at  the  Model  Prison  on  a  week  day, 
nevertheless  the  strangest  and  most  interesting  of  all  the  sights  is  the  performance  cf 
divine  service  on  the  Sabbath.  Nor  do  we  say  this  after  one  solitary  visit,  for  being  anxious 
to  watch  the  effect  of  prayers  on  the  convicts  at  this  institution,  we  made  a  point  of  attending 
service  in  the  chapel  on  several  occasions,  so  that  we  might  speak  from  no  singU  observation 
of  the  ceremony. 

The  chapel  itself  reminds  one  of  a  moderately-sized  music-hall,  for  it  is  merely  a  spacious 
room  without  either  naves  or  aisles,  or  pillars,  or  galleries  to  give  it  a  church-like  character; 
and  at  the  end  facing  the  pulpit  there  is  a  series  of  seats  rising  one  above  the  other,  after  the 
fashion  of  a  lecture-room  at  an  hospital  or  philosophical  institution.  These  seats  are  divided 
off  in  the  same  manner  as  the  pit-stalls  at  a  theatre,  but  in  appearance  they  resemble  a  small 
box  or  pew  rather  than  the  imitation  arm-chair  peculiar  to  the  orchestral  ''  reserved  seats." 
Indeed,  the  reader  has  but  to  imagine  the  ordinary  pews  of  a  church  to  be  arranged  on  an 
inclined  plane,  one  above  the  other,  rather  than  on  a  level  fioor,  and  to  be  each  divided  into 
a  series  of  compartments  just  large  enough  to  hold  one  person,  to  have  a  tolerably  definite 
notion  of  the  sittings  in  the  chapel  imder  the  ''  separate  system  "  at  Pentonville. 

Of  the  separate  sittings  or  individual  pews  there  are  altogether  some  270  in  the  Penton- 
ville convict  chapel,  and  the  prisoner  who  sits  nearest  the  wall  in  each  row  of  seats  has 
to  enter  first,  and  he,  on  the  other  hand,  whose  place  is  nearest  the  middle,  last ;  for  the 
partitions  between  each  of  the  sittings  serve  also  as  doors,  so  that  when  they  are  turned  back 
a  passage  is  formed  to  the  farthest  unoccupied  seat  from  the  middle  or  general  entrance. 

Another  peculiarity  of  the  Pentonville  chapel  consists  in  the  raised  and  detached  sittings 
appropriated  to  the  warders,  for  as  it  is  the  duty  of  the  officers  attending  service  there  to  seo 
that  no  attempts  at  intercommunication  are  made  by  the  prisoners,  it  becomes  necessary  that 
they  should  be  placed  in  such  exalted  positions  throughout  the  chapel  as  to  be  able  to  look 
down  into  each  separate  stall  near  them.    Accordingly,  it  will  be  observed,  on  reference  to  the 


PENTONYILLE  PEISON.  163 

engnYifig,  that  two  warders  are  placed  on  elevated  seats  immediately  in  front  of  the  separate 
pews,  and  one  at  the  end  of  each  of  the  narrow  galleries  that  stretch  half  along  either  side  of 
the  chapel  (the  farther  extremity,  only  of  these  being  shown  in  the  accompanying  illnstra- 
tion),  whilst  two  more  warders  occupy  siinilarly  raised  stations  immediately  under  the  organ, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  survey  the  pnsoners  in  the  upper  stalls.* 

We  have  already  described  the  swarming  of  the  convicts  from  every  part  of  the  building 
for  daily  prayers,  and  the  long  lines  of  men — each  prisoner  being  some  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
behind  the  other — that  then  come  streaming  along  the  galleries  as  the  chapel  beU  is  heard 
booming  fitfdlly  overhead.  The  scene  is  in  no  way  different  on  the  Sunday,  and  it  is  astonish- 
ing, on  entering  the  chapel,  to  find  how  silently  it  is  filled  with  the  prisoners.  Every  man,  as 
he  enters,  knows  the  predse  row  and  seat  that  he  has  to  occupy,  and  though  some  few  pass  in 

^  The  chapel  ii  the  great  place  of  eommunioation  among  prisoners  under  separate  confinement.  Such 
communication  is  cairicd  on  either  hy  the  oonyict  who  occupies  (say)  stall  No.  10  leaving  a  letter  in  stall  No. 
9  as  he  passes  towards  his  own  seat,  or  else  hy  pushing  a  letter  during  divine  senrice  imder  the  partition-door 
of  the  stall;  or,  if  the  prisoner  be  very  daring,  by  passing  it  over  his  stall.  Sometimes  those  who  are  short 
men  put  their  mouth  to  the  stall-door,  and  say  what  they  wish  to  communicate,  whilst  pretending  to  pray  ; 
or,  if  they  be  of  the  usual  height,  they  speak  to  tlieir  next  door  neighbour  while  the  nnging  is  going  on. 

There  is  not^  however,  much  communication  carried  on  among  the  prisoners  in  school,  and  very  little 
during  the  operation  of  cleaning  the  prison.  The  authorities,  however,  expect  that  a  large  amount  of  inter- 
course  takes  place  among  the  men  while  they  are  out  in  the  exercising  grounds,  and  we  are  assured  that 
double  the  inspection  could  not  prevent  it  there.  Other  convicts,  moreover,  fling  letters  into  the  cells  as  they 
go  by  from  chapel,  *<  though  this,"  adds  our  informant,  "  should  not  occur  under  vigilant  inspection." 

The  means  of  commimication  adopted  by  the  prisoners  are  often  curious.  Some  men  scratch  what  they 
want  to  say  on  the  tin  dinner-cans ;  others  talk  from  cell  to  cell  by  means  of  the  water-taps ;  others,  again, 
use  a  short  and  abrupt  cough  in  the  chapel  with  the  view  of  directing  another  conviot's  attention  to  some 
eommunication  they  wish  to  make.  Under  the  silent  system,  moreover,  it  is  usual  for  the  prisoners  to  speak 
while  on  the  tread- wheel,  either  by  their  fingers  or  pointing  to  certain  figures  and  numbers  that  have  been 
carved  by  previous  prisoners  about  the  place ;  and  others,  again,  accustom  themselves  to  talk  without  moving 
the  lips,  so  that  they  can  look  a  warder  full  in  the  face  while  conversing  with  their  neighbour,  and  yet  tlie 
warder  detect  no  signs  of  any  communication  going  on. 

Under  the  separate  system.the  prisoners  have  an  ingenious  method  of  communicating  by  means  of  knock- 
ing on  the  oeU-waUs.  '*  The  following  description,''  says  Mr.  Burt,  in  his  "  Kesults  of  Separate  Confinement," 
iirom  which  book  the  aooount  is  copied,  "  is  printed  precisely  as  it  was  given  me  by  a  prisoner  deserving  of 
credit.  'The  plan  is  this  (ss  taught  me  by  a  youth  who  desired,  in  case  we  might  be  neighbours,  to  hold  a 
ngiilar  communication}  to  write  upon  a  piece  of  paper  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  and  under  each  letter  to  place 

A    B   0   D 
a  number,  commencing  at  one,  thus :     '     '     '     ',  &o.  &c,    A  person  wishing  to  communicate  with  his 

neighbour  would  then  rap  with  his  knuckle  or  nail  on  the  wall,  spelling  the  words  with  numbers  in- 
stead of  letters.     Thus,  to  propose  the  question,  *  How  do  you  get  on  ?'   I  should  knock  thus : — 

8  15  23  4  15  7^20  16  U '  "** hetween  each  word  give  three  rapid  knooks,  to  imply  the  word  was  com- 
plete. This  system  of  corresponding,  although  at  first  sight  it  may  appear  tedious,  is  much  less  so  than  one 
would  imagine ;  for  regular  practitioners  are  so  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  numbers  of  each  letter,  that 
a  eonversation  is  earned  on  with  the  same  facility  as  by  talking  with  the  fingers;  besides,  in  this  system 
there  are  many  abbreviations  for  yes,  no,  dec,  and  a  sort  of  freemasonry,  or  certain  signs,  both  rapid  and  con- 
vincing, and  perfectly  intelligible  to  each  other.  Many  may  doubt  this  statement,  as  I  did  myself  when  I 
was  first  initiated ;  but  I  can  positively  assert,  that  I  have  myteif^  with  my  limited  kno^edge  of  this  curious 
system,  learnt  a  great  portion  of  the  history  of  a  party  who  never  opened  his  lips  to  me,  nor  would  I  dosire 
that  he  ever  should.  From  this  individual  I  learnt  his  name,  place  Of  iHith,  offonoe,  sentence,  the  date  of  his 
eoming  into  the  prison,  and  many  other  circumstances,  which  he  contrived  to  make  me  acquainted  with  before 
I  had  ever  laen  him,  or  had  been  in  my  cell  four-and-twenty  hours.' 

''The  truth  of  this  sUtement,"  adds  Mr.  Burt,  "  was  verified  by  the  fact  that  the  name,  birth-place, 
crime,  and  sentence  of  the  prisoner  in  the  adjoining  cell  were  correctly  stated  by  my  informant,  although 
they  had  no  previous  knowledge  whatever  of  each  other.  It  may  be  added,  that  the  prisoner  who  eommuni- 
eated  the  infomiation  was  convicted  in  a  wrong  name,  while  no  officer  of  the  prison  knew  that  he  had  another 
name  until  it  was  discovered  in  this  manner.  Other  prisoners  have  given  me  a  similsr  desoription  of  this 
method  of  oommunicationy  which  may  be  termed  the  priam&ri  tUetrU  UUgraph" — (P.  271). 


164  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON, 

together  at  the  same  momen^  these  go  to  opposite  quarters  of  the  gallery — either  to  the  one 
side  or  the  other  of  the  upper  or  lower  stalls,  as  the  case  may  he — so  that,  owing  to  the 
intervals  hetween  the  men  in  the  several  lines  of  prisoners  pouring  iifto  the  edifice  from 
different  parts  of  the  prison  at  one  and  the  same  time,  each  convict  is  ahle  to  get  to  his  seat, 
and  to  close  the  partition-door  of  his  stall  after  him,  hefore  the  one  following  his  steps  has 
time  to  enter  the  same  row.  The  consequence  is,  that  neither  riot  nor  confusion  prevails,  and 
the  quarter  of  a  thousand  and  more  convicts,  who  are  distributed  throughout  the  chapel 
gallery,  are  stowed  away,  every  one  in  his  proper  place — and  that  in  some  few  minutes,  too 
— ^with  as  little  noise  and  disorder  as  occurs  at  a  Quakers'  meeting. 

When  the  chapel  is  fiUed,  it  is  a  most  peculiar  sight  to  behold  near  upon  three  hundred 
heads  of  convicts — and  the  heads  ottfy,  the  whole  of  the  prisoner's  body  being  hidden  by  the 
front  of  the  stalls — ranged,  as  it  were,  in  so  many  pigeon-holes  (for  the  partitions  on  either 
side  produce  somewhat  of  this  appearance),  and  each  vnth  the  round,  brass,  charity-boy-like 
badge  of  his  register  number  hung  up,  just  above  him,  on  the  ledge  of  the  stall  at  his  back. 

Nor  are  the  heads  there  assembled  such  as  physiognomical  or  phrenological  prejudice 
would  lead  one  to  anticipate,  for  now  that  the  mask-caps  are  off  we  see  features  and  crania  of 
every  possible  form  and  expression — almost  from  the  best  type  down  to  the  very  lowest.  True, 
as  we  have  said,  there  is  scarcely  one  bald  head  to  be  observed,  and  only  two  remarkable 
men  with  gray,  or  rather  silver,  hair — ^the  latter,  however,  being  extraordinary  exceptions  to 
the  rule,  and  coming  from  a  very  different  class  from  the  ordinary  convict  stock.  Neverthe- 
less, the  general  run  of  the  countenances  and  skulls  assembled  in  Pentonville  Chapel  are  far 
from  being  of  that  brutal  or  semi-idiotic  character,  such  as  caricaturists  love  to  picture  as 
connected  with  the  criminal  race.  Some  of  the  oonvicts,  indeed,  have  a  frank  and  positively 
ingenuous  look,  whilst  a  few  are  certainly  remarkable  for  the  coarse  and  rudely-moulded 
features — the  high  cheek-bones  and  prognathous  mouths — ^tbat  are  often  associated  with  the 
hard-bred  portion  of  our  people.  Still  it  has  been  noticed  by  others,  who  have  had  far  better 
opportunities  of  judging  than  ourselves,  that  the  old  convict  head  of  the  last  century  has 
disappeared  frY)m  our  prisons  and  hulks ;  and  certainly,  out  of  the  270  odd  fetces  that  one 
sees  assembled  at  Pentonville  chapel,  there  is  hardly  one  that  bears  the  least  resemblance  to 
the  vulgar  baboon-like  types  that  unobservant  artists  still  depict  as  representative  of  the  con- 
vict character. 

There  are  few  countenances,  be  it  remarked,  that  will  bear  framing  in  the  Old  Bailey 
dock,  and  few  to  which  the  convict  garb— despite  our  study  of  Lavater  and  Gall— does  not 
lend  what  we  cannot  but  imagine,  frY>m  the  irresistible  force  of  association,  to  be  an  unmis" 
takahly  criminal  expression.  At  Pentonville  chapel,  however,  as  we  have  said,  we  see  only 
the  heads,  without  any  of  the  convict  costume  to  mislead  the  mind  in  its  observations,  and 
assuredly,  if  one  were  to  assemble  a  like  number  of  individuals  from  the  same  ranks  of  society 
as  those  from  which  most  of  our  criminals  come — such  as  farm-labourers,  costeimongers, 
sweeps,  cabmen,  porters,  mechanics,  and  even  clerks — ^we  should  find  that  their  cast  of 
countenances  differed  so  little  from  those  seen  at  the  Model  Prison,  that  even  the  keenest  eye 
for  character  woi^d  be  unable  to  distinguish  a  photograph  of  the  criminal  from  the  non- 
criminal congregation.* 

*  The  only  oriminal  trtit  we  ouxselves  have  been  able  to  detect  among  the  ordinary  convict  dao,  u  a 
certain  kind  of  dogged  and  half-suUen  expretsion,  denoting  stiibbomneu  and  way  wardneas  of  temper,  whilat 
many  of  the  young  men  who  are  habitual  thievea  certainly  appear  to  us  to  have  a  peculiar  cunning  and  aide-> 
long  look,  together  with  an  odd  turn  at  the  comers  of  the  mouth,  as  if  they  were  ready  to  burst  into  laughter 
at  the  least  frivolity,  thus  denoting  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  excite  in  their  minds  any  deep  or  lasting 
impression.  Nor,  so  far  as  our  experience  goes,  have  even  the  **  brutal-violence"  men  in  general  their  charac- 
ters stamped  upon  their  faces.  We  heard,  only  recently,  a  <*  rough ''  declare  that  Calcraff  s  situation  was  just 
the  thing  to  suit  him,  as  there  was  good  pay  and  little  to  do  connected  with  the  berth ;  and  yet,  to  have  judged 
by  the  fellow's  countenance,  one  might  have  mistaken  him,  had  he  been  clad  in  a  suit  of  black,  for  a  city 


PENTONYILLE  PRISON.  165 

There  is  somethingy  even  to  the  lightest  minds,  inexpressiUy  grand  in  the  simultaneouB 
outpouring  of  many  prayers,  so  that  the  confessions  of  transgression,  and  the  supplications 
for  m^t^y,  as  well  as  the  thanksgivings,  the  invocation  of  hlessings  upon  all  those  who 
are  in  sickness  or  want,  and  the  hymns  of  praise,  uttered  by  some  hundreds  of  voices, 
become  one  of  the  most  sublime  and  solemn  ceremonies  the  mind  can  contemplate.  Go 
into  what  assembly  or  what  country  we  will — ^let  us  differ  from  the  adopted  creed  as  much 
as  we  may — ^we  cannot  but  respect  the  divine  aspirations  of  every  multitude  gathered 
together  for  the  worship  of  the  Most  High ;  for  though  the  form  of  such  worship  may  not  be 
the  precise  ceremony  to  which  our  notions  have  been  squared,  and  though  we  may  believe, 
clinging  to  some  human  theory  of  election  and  salvation,  that  there  is  another  and  a  shorter 
way  to  Heaven,  nevertheless  we  cannot  but  reverence  the  outpouring  of  several  souls  as 
the  one  common  yearning  after  goodness,  the  universal  veneration  of  all  that  is  deemed  to 
be  just  and  true. 

But  if  this  be  the  mental  and  moral  effect  of  every  religious  assembly,  composed  of 
righteous  men«  how  much  more  touching  do  such  aspirations  and  supplications  become  when 
the  wretched  beings  confessing  their  sins  and  imploring  mercy,  are  those  whom  the  world 
has  been  compelled  to  cut  off  from  all  society,  on  accoxmt  of  the  wrongs  done  by  them 
to  l^ir  feUow-creatures ;  and  we  are  not  ashamed  to  confess  that  when  we  heard  the 
convict  multitude  at  PentonvLlle,  cry  aloud  to  their  Almighty  and  most  merciful  Father, 
that  they  had  "  erred  and  strayed  from  his  ways  like  lost  sheep,"  saying  with  one  voice, 
**  we  have  followed  too  much  the  devices  and  desires  of  our  own  hearts,''  and  then 
entreating  one  and  all  for  mercy  as  **  miserable  offenders,"  and  begging  that  they  might 
"  hereafter  live  a  godly,  righteous,  and  sober  life" — ^the  prayer  of  these  same  wretched 
outcasts,  we  are  not  ashamed  to  confess,  so  far  touched  our  heart  that  the  tears  filled  our 
eyes,  and  choked  the  most  devout  "Amm^*  we  ever  uttered  in  all  our  life. 

And  such  a  prayer,  too,  in  such  a  place,  repeated  by  felon  lips,  is  not  without  its 
Christian  lesson  on  the  soul ;  for  though  the  first  feeling  is  naturally  to  consider  the  above 
confession  as  specially  fit  for  that  same  convict  congregration,  and  to  fancy,  when  we  acknow-^ 
ledge  with  the  rest  "we  have  left  undone  those  things  which  we  ought  to  have  done, 
and  done  those  things  which  we  ought  not  to  have  done,"  that  the  "  we"  has  particular 
reference  to  the  wretched  beings  before  us  rather  than  to  ourselves. 

The  next  moment,  however,  the  mind,  stripped  of  all  social  prejudice  at  such  a  time, 
gets  to  despise  the  petty  worldly  pride  that  prompted  the  vain  distinction,  and  to  ask  itself, 
as  it  calls  up  its  many  shortcomings — ^its  petty  social  cheats  and  tricks — as  well  as  its 
infinite  selfish  delinquencies,  what  vast  difference  in  the  eyes  of  the  All- wise  and  Just  can 
there  be  between  us  and  these  same  **  miserable  offenders,"  whom  we,  in  the  earthly  arrogance 
of  our  hearts,  have  learnt  to  loathe. 

And  as  the  lesson  of  Christian  charity  and  brotherhood  steals  across  the  soul,  we  get  to 
inquire  of  ourselves,  what  did  we  ever  do  to  better  the  lot  of  any  like  those  before  us  ? 
Have  we  not  then  really  left  undone  the  things  that  we  ought  to  have  done,  towards  such 
as  they,  whispers  the  obtrusive  conscience  ?    If  we  are  a  little  bit  better  than  they,  is  it 

miasionary,  or  eren  a  philanthropist.  NeTertheless,  the  generality  of  the  ** brutal-violence"  class  of  criminals 
are  characterised  by  a  peculiar  lascivious  look— a  trait  which  is  as  much  developed  in  the  attention  paid  to 
tbe  arrangement  of  the  hair,  as  it  is  in  the  look  of  the  eye  or  play  of  the  mouth.  They  are,  however,  mostly 
remarkable  for  that  short  and  thick  kind  of  neck  which  is  termed  **  bull,"  and  which  is  generally  charac- 
teristic of  strong  animal  passions.  As  a  body,  moreover,  the  habitual  criminals  of  London  are  said  to  be, 
in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  '<  Irish  Cockneys,"  i.  e.,  persons  bom  of  Irish  parents  in  the  Metropolis;  and  this  is 
doubtlessly  owing  to  the  extreme  poverty  of  the  parents  on  their  coming  over  to  this  country,  and  the  conse- 
quent neglect  experienced  by  the  class  in  their  youth,  as  well  as  the  natural  quickness  of  the  Hibernian  race 
fer  good  or  evil,  together  with  that  extreme  excitability  of  temperament  which  leads,  under  circumstances  o( 
want  and  destitution,  to  savage  oatrages— even  as,  in  better  social  conditions,  it  conduces  to  high  generosity 
if  not 


166  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LOITOON. 

not  aimply  because  we  have-been  a  great  deal  more  favoured  than  tliey  ?  Did  we  make  our 
own  fate  in  life  ?  Did  you  or  I,  by  any  merit  on  our  own  part,  win  our  way  into  a  rank  of 
society  where  wo  were  not  only  trained  from  early  childhood  to  honest  courses,  as  regularly  as 
those  less  lucky  (though  equally  deserving)  wretches  were  schooled  in  diBhonest  ones  ?  and 
where  we  were  as  much  removed  from,  temptation  by  the  comforts  and  blessings  with 
which  we  were  surrounded,  as  thet/  were  steeped  to  the  very  lips  in  it,  by  the  want  and  miseiy 
which  always  encompassed  them  ?  Have  we  ever  devoted  the  least  portion  of  the  gifts 
and  endowments  we  have  received,  and  of  which  assuredly  we  are  but  the  stewards  rather 
than  the  rigktfid  possessors,  to  the  rendering  of  the  lot  of  the  wretched  a  whit  less  wretched 
in  this  world  ?  Did  we  ever  do  a  thing  or  give  a  fraction  to  make  them  better,  or  wiser,  or 
happier  ?  Or,  if  we  have  done  or  given  some  little,  could  we  not  have  done  and  given 
more  ?  Honestly,  truthfully,  we  must  answer ;  for  there  is  no  shirking  the  question  at  such 
an  hour  and  in  such  a  place,  with  those  hundreds  of  convict  eyes  turned  towards  us,  and 
those  hundreds  of  felon  lips  crying  aloud,  *'  There  is  none  other  that  fighteth  for  us  but  Thou, 
0  God  !'* 

Nor  can  we  then  and  there  stifle  our  conscience  with  the  paltry  excuse  that  the  men  are 
unworthy  of  such  feelings  being  displayed  towards  them ;  for,  as  we  hear  them  repeat  the 
responses,  we  cannot  but  fancy  there  is  a  profundity  of  grief  and  repentance,  as  well  as  de- 
vout supplication,  expressed  in  the  very  tones  of  their  voices,  when  they  cry,  after  the  solemn 
passages  of  the  litany,  *'  0  God,  the  Father  of  Heaven,  have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable  sin- 
ners !"  "  0  God  the  Son,  Redeemer  of  the  World,  have  mercy  upon  us,  miserable  sinners !" 
Or  else,  in  answer  to  the  prayer  of  the  minister,  "  that  it  may  please  thee  to  show  thy  pity 
upon  all  prisoners  and  captives !"  say  one  and  all,  '*  We  beseech  thee  to  hear  us,  good  Lord !" 

Indeed,  the  attention  of  the  men  is  so  marked,  that  during  the  reading  of  the  lessons 
the  leaves  of  the  Ribles  are  turned  over  by  the  prisoners  at  one  and  the  same  time,  so  that  the 
noise  sounds  positively  like  the  sudden  rustling  of  a  forest. 

One  convict  we  noted  with  his  hands  raised  high  above  his  head,  and  clasped  continually 
in  prayer,  while  others  seldom  or  never  raised  their  eyes  from  their  book ;  and  it  struck  us 
as  not  a  Jittlc  extraordinary  to  hear  so  many  scores  of  felons,  and  even  some  one  or  two 
manslayers,  that  were  congregated  under  that  chapel  roof,  say,  with  apparently  imfeigned 
devotion — as  the  minister  read  from  the  communion  table  the  Commandments,  *'  Thou  sholt 
do  no  murder !"  and  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal !" — '*  Lord  have  mercy  upon  us,  and  incline  our 
hearts  to  keep  this  law!" 

Nor  is  the  attention  of  the  convicts  to  the  clergyman's  discourse  less  decorous  and 
marked,  than  their  conduct  during  the  prayers ;  and  on  one  of  our  visits,  the  assiBtant-chaplain 
related  an  anecdote  at  the  conclusion  of  his  sermon  which  showed  how  easily  these  men  are 
moved  by  any  appeal  to  family  ties.  The  minister  told  them  how  it  had  once  been  his 
sad  duty  to  be  present  at  the  funeral  of  a  young  woman  and  her  infant,  by  torchlight,  saying 
that  the  reason  of  the  ceremony  being  delayed  until  so  late  an  hour,  was  in  order  that 
the  father  might  see  the  last  melancholy  office  performed  over  the  body  of  his  child  \  and 
he  had  had  to  travel  on  foot  for  many  miles,  from  the  town  in  which  he  resided. 

It  was  curious  to  watch,  as  the  humble  history  grew  in  interest,  how  every  prisoner's 
head  was  stretched  forward  from  his  little  stall,  and  their  eyes  became  more  and  more 
intently  rivetted  on  the  clergyman. 

When  the  old  man  saw  the  coffin  of  his  girl  and  her  babe  lowered  into  the  grave,  pro- 
ceeded the  minister,  his  tears  streamed  down  the  furrows  of  his  cheeks  j  and  when  the  service 
was  over,  and  the  sexton  was  about  to  begin  shovelling  the  earth  into  the  grave,  and  hidc» 
for  ever  the  remains  of  his  children,  from  his  view,  he  bade  the  man  desist  while  he  took  a 
last  look  at  all  that  once  boxmd  him  to  the  world.  As  he  did  so,  the  old  father  cried 
through  his  sobs  that  he  would  rather  see  her  uid  her  little  one  dead  in  their  g^ve,  than 
have  beheld  her  living  with  it  in  her  shame. 


PENTONTILLE  PRISON.  167 

When  the  tale  iras  told,  there  vtm  hardly  one  dry  eye  to  bo  Botioed  among  those  so-called 
hardened  convict* ;  some  bnriod  their  faoei  in  their  handkerchiefB,  in  very  grief  at  the 
misery  theytoohad  heaped  on  Bomeparent'ahead;  and  othen  sobbed  aloud  from  a  like  oauBC, 
BO  that  we  conld  hear  their  gasps  and  Bighe,  telling  of  the  homos  that  they  had  made 
iTTetched  by  tbeir  shame. 

*,*  QmtUity  the  Chaptl. — ^For  the  order  of  leaving  the  chnpel,  an  initniment  is  employed 
OS  a  means  of  signalling  to  the  prisoners  the  letters  of 

therovs  andnnmbersof  the  stallc  in  the  snccession 

that  the  men  in  them  are  to  retire  to  their  cells. 

This  instrument  consists  of  an  oblong  hoard, 
raised  open  a  high  shaft,  and  has  two  apertures  in 
front,  BO  as  to  show  a  small  portion  of  the  edge  of 
two  wooden  discs  that  aro  placed  at  the  back  of  the 
board.  One  disc  is  inscribed  with  letters,  and  the 
other  with  figures  ronnd  the  rim,  and  arranged  in 
such  a  manner,  that,  by  causing  one  or  otb»  to 
m-olvc  behind  the  board  by  means  of  a  string  passed 
over  the  centre,  as  shown  in  the  annexed  drawing, 
a  fresh  letter  or  number  is  made  to  appear  at  either 
aperture,  according  as  the  right  or  left  hand  wheel 
is  worked — the  letter  and  the  number  appearing  to 
the  priaoners,  as  represented  in  the  upper  diagram, 
giving  the  front  of  the  board,  and  the  wheels  being 
arranged  as  factored  in  the  lower  or  back  view  of  the 
(^paratns. 

"When  the  service  is  over,  the  instrument  is 
moved  to  the  space  in  front  of  the  communion  table, 
and  a  warder  proceeds  to  work  the  wheels  from 
behind,  so  as  to  shift  either  the  letters  or  the 
anmber?,  as  may  be  required. 

Each  row  of  scats  on  either  aide  of  the  entrance 
passage  in  the  middle  of  the  chapel  gallery  u  simi- 
larly lettered,  and  corresponds  with  the  characters 
on  one  of  the  wheels,  whilst  the  scyeral  stalls  or 
pcwB  in  those  rows  are  numbered  alike  on  either 
aide  of  rach  entrance-passage,  and  correspond  with 
the  figures  on  the  other  wheel ;  so  that  when  tho 
warder  fnms  the  one  wheel  round,  and  lets  tho 
letter  A  appear  at  the  aperture,  the  convicts  in  that 
row  put  on  their  caps  and  prepare  to  move ;  whilst 
immediately  the  flgnre  1  is  brought  to  the  other 
apotvrc,  then  the  first  stall  on  either  side  of  the 
central  possi^  pull  down  their  cap-peaks,  and 
throwing  back  the  partition-door,  hasten  frvm  tho 
clnqtcl ;  and  when  the  numbered  wheel  is  tamed  a 
little  farther  ronnd,  BO  as  to  bring  the  figure  2  in  the 

•petluie^  then  the  convicts,  on  either  side  the  passage  occi^ying  the  stall  next  to  the  one  jnst 
vacated,  likewise  turn  down  their  cap-peaks,  and  throwing  back  the  division  of  their  stall,  pass 
in  a  similar  manner  eat  of  the  chapel.  Then  nnmber  3  stalls  are  signalled  away  in  like  man- 
ner, each  prismer,  asbefive,  making  a  passage  for  those  who  ore  to  come  after  him,  by  poshing 


168  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

back  the  division-door  of  lus  stall,  and  so  on  up  to  number  10 ;  after  which  the  letter-wheel 
is  revolved  a  little  more,  so  as  to  present  another  character  to  the  prisoners'  view.  Then 
another  row  prepares  to  leave,  as  before ;  and  thus  the  chapel  is  entirely  emptied,  not  only 
with  considerable  rapidity,  but  without  any  disturbance  or  confusion** 


Of  the  Moral.  EffecU  of  ths  DhcipUne  at  PentomiUe, 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  mental  effects  of  the  separate  system  as  carried  out  at 
Pentonville  Prison,  and  shown  that,  whereas  the  proportion  of  lunacy  is  not  quite  0*6  in 
every  thousand  of  the  prison  population  throughout  England  and  Wales,  the  ratio  of  insanity 
at  Pentonville  was  more  than  ten  times  that  amount,  or  6'0  in  the  first  thousand  convicts 
that  entered  the  Model  Prison;  whereas  it  was  10  in  the  second  thousand,  4  in  the  third, 
and  9  in  the  fourth ;  so  that,  had  the  prisoners  throughout  England  and  Wales  been  treated 
according  to  the  same  system,  there  would  have  been,  instead  of  an  everage  of  85  lunatics 
per  year  in  the  entire  prison  population  of  the  country,  upwards  of  850  madmen  produced. 

Great  credit  is  due,  however,  to  the  authorities  for  relaxing  the  discipline  immediately 
they  became  impressed  with  the  conviction  of  its  danger  to  the  intellects  of  the  prisoners ; 
for,  as  driving  a  man  mad  formed  no  part  of  the  original  sentence  of  a  convict,  it  is  clear 
that  the  prison  authorities  had  no  earthly  right  to  submit  a  criminal  to  a  course  of  penal 
treatment  which  had  the  effect  of  depriving  him  of  his  reason.  Since  the  alteration,  however, 
in  the  working  of  the  separate  system,  and  the  introduction  of  the  present  method  of  brisk 
walking,  together  with  an  increased  quantity  of  out-door  exercise,  and  a  more  perfect  system  of 
ventilation,  as  well  as  shortening  the  term  of  imprisonment  to  one-half  its  original  duration, 
the  ratio  of  insanity  has  been  reduced  from  6*0  to  I'O  per  thousand  prisoners  (see  page  144). 
Nevertheless,  as  the  medical  officer  says, ''  though  much  has  been  gained,  the  Umits  of  safety  have 
scarcely  yet  been  reac?ied,'*  the  ratio  of  lunacy  at  Pentonville  being  stiU  almost  as  high  again 
as  the  normal  rate  deduced  from  the  average  of  all  other  prisons. 

Were  it  not  for  this  terrible  drawback,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  separate  system  is 
the  best  of  all  the  existing  modes  of  penal  discipline— better  than  the  **  silent  system," 
which  has,  to  recommend  it,  only  the  negative  benefit  of  preventing  intercourse  among  the 
criminals — and  better  than  the  ''  mark  system,"  which  would  have  convicts  sentenced  to  do 

*  The  arrangement  of  the  chapel  into  stalla  is  not  generally  approved,  even  by  the  advocates  of  the  sepa- 
rate system ;  and  surely,  if  such  an  arrangement  be  not  inditpensably  necessary  for  the  carrying  out  of  that 
system,  they  should  he  immediately  condemned  as  hearing  a  most  offensive  aspect,  and  one  that  hardly  con- 
sorts with  a  Christian  edifice,  where  the  minister  speaks  of  even  the  convicts  as  "  hrethren." 

**  As  regards  the  division  of  the  chapel  into  separate  stalls,''  says  Colonel  Jehh,  in  his  Report  for  the  year, 
1852,  *'  Mr.  Reynolds,  the  chaplain  at  Wakefield,  who  is  a  warm  advocate  of  the  separate  system,  thus 
expresses  his  opinion : — '  I  am  of  opinion  that  the  plan  of  the  chapel  is  yery  objectionahle.  I  object  to  it, 
in  the  first  place,  because  I  thmk  it  is  calculated  to  produce  disagreeable  associations  in  the  minds  of  the 
prisoners  regarding  a  place  of  public  worship.  I  object  to  it,  in  the  second  place,  because  I  believe  it  to 
produce  a  chilling  feeling  of  isolation  opposed  to  Uie  proper  social  character  of  public  worship.  I  object 
to  it,  in  the  third  place,  because,  instead  of  preventing  communication  between  different  prisoners, 
it  affords  increased  facilities  for  communication ;  in  the  fourth,  because  it  affords  an  opportunity  to  the  ill- 
disposed  to  employ  their  time  in  chapel  in  writing  on  the  wood-work  of  the  stalls  instead  of  attending  to 
the  service,  and  opportunities,  also,  of  disturbing  the  worship  of  the  other  prisoners,  by  making  noises,  which 
it  is  very  difficult  to  trace  to  any  particular  prisoner.' "  In  these  opinions  Mr  Shepherd,  the  goveriMW 
of  Wakefield  Prison,  expresses  his  concurrence ;  whilst  Colonel  Jebb  himself  adds :— *'  Much  of  the  inoonve- 
nionce  pointed  out  by  the  governor  and  chaplain  at  Wakefield  has  been  experienced  at  Pentonville. 
Writing  of  the  most  objectionable  diaracter  appears  on  the  wood- work  in  many  placesy  and  puniahmiBQtii 
for  attempto  to  communicate  have  been  frequent" 


PENTOKVILIiE  PEISOK.  169 

a  oertain  taak  of  work^  raflier  ihaiito  snflSsr  a  definite  term  of  imprisoDment;  but  task-work 
was  neyer  yet  known  to  make  labour  a  pleasure  to  a  man,  though  this  is  the  main  point 
claimed  by  the  advocates  of  that  system  as  rendering  it  superior  to  all  others. 

The  separate  system,  however,  not  only  prevents  the  communion  of  criminals  far  more 
effBctually  than  the  silent  system  can  possibly  hope  to  do,  and  makes  labour  so  agreeable  a 
relief  to  the  monotony  of  solitude,  that  it  positively  becomes  a  punishment  to  withhold  it,  and 
thus,  by  rendering  idleness  absolutely  irksome  to  the  prisoner,  causes  him  to  find  a  pleasure 
in  induistry — a  feat  that  the  ''mark,"  or,  more  properly  speaking,  "task"  system,  c^  never 
hope  to  accomplish ;  but,  by  cutting  the  prisoner  off  from  all  society,  the  separate  system  of 
prison  discipline  compels  him  to  hold  communion  with  himself— to  turn  his  thoughts  inward — 
to  reflect  on  the  wickedness  of  his  past  career  with  the  view  of  his  forming  new  resolves  for 
the  fdtnre,  and  so  gives  to  his  punishment  the  true  enlightened  character  of  a  penance  and  a 
chastisement  (or  chastening)  rather  than  a  mere  vindictive  infliction  of  so  much  pain. 

That  the  separate  system  has  really  produced  such  effects  as  the  above,  the  records  of 
Pentonville  Prison  thoroughly  attest.  It  is  urged,  however,  by  those  who  object  to  that 
mode  of  prison  discipline,  that  the  reformations  it  assumes  to  work  are  mere  temporary 
depressions  of  spirits  produced  by  physical  causes,  rather  than  being  conversions  of  nature 
wrought  by  the  power  of  religion. 

It  should,  however,  be  borne  in  mind  that  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  repent  of  his 
past  misdeeds — to  be  overcome  with  remorse  for  an  ill-spent  life— and  yet  be  lively  and  happy 
over  the  matter.  Grief  necessarily  has  a  tendency  to  depress  the  mind  and  body,  and  so, 
too,  mental  or  physical  depression  has  a  tendency  to  induce  grief,-  consequently,  there  being 
hero  a  state  of  action  and  reaction,  it  is  but  natural  that  the  dejection  or  lowness  of  spirits 
resulting  from  separate  confinement  should  induce  sorrow  for  the  past,  and  that  this  same 
BQROW  again  should  serve  to  increase  such  dejection.  Whoever  became  a  better  man  without 
IpwflniJTig  over  his  former  transgressions?  If,  therefore,  we  really  wish  to  excite  in  the 
mind  that  state  of  contrition  which  must  infallibly  precede  all  reformation,  if  not  positive 
conversion  of  character,  we  must  place  the  individual  in  predsdy  those  circumstances  which 
will  serve  to  depress  his  haughty  nature  and  to  humble  his  proud  spirit;  and  this  is  just  the 
effect  which,  according  to  the  medical  evidence,  the  system  of  separate  confinement  is  cal- 
culated to  produce. 

But  it  is  said  that  these  reformations,  'so  far  from  being  real  permanent  changes  of 
nature,  are  mere  temporary  impressions,  caused  by  the  long  confinement  to  which  the  assumed 
converts  have  been  sulijected,  and  that  ihej  owe  their  momentary  results  to  that  derange- 
ment of  the  organs  of  digestion  which  arises  from  the  want  not  only  of  proper  air  and 
exercise,  but  the  stimulus  of  agreeable  society ;  so  that  men  get  to  mistake  a  fit  of  the 
"  megrims"  for  a  religious  frame  of  mind,  or,  in  the  words  of  Thomas  Hood— 

"  Think  they're  pious  when  tiiey're  only  bilions." 

Others  urge,  again,  that  these  same  professed  conversions  are  mere  hypocritical  assump- 
tions on  the  part  of  the  prisoners  for  the  sake  of  cajoling  the  chaplain  out  of  a  "  tioket- 
of-leave"  long  before  the  expiration  of  their  sentence ;  for  as  it  has  been  found  that  many  of 
tiiese  same  converted  convicts  soon  relapse,  after  regaining  their  liberty,  to  their  former  course 
of  life,  people  immediately  conclude  that  the  religious  turn  of  mind,  previous  to  their 
being  set  free,  was  merely  simulated  for  the  particular  purpose.  Moreover,  we  are  well 
aware  that  the  other  convicts  generally  believe  these  displays  of  religion  on  tiie  part  of 
their  fellow-prisoners  to  be  mere  shams,  calling  those  who  indulge  in  them  by  the  nickname 
of  "  Joeys."  We  have  been  assured,  too,  by  the  warders,  that  the  prisoners  know  the  very 
fbotsteps  of  the  chaplain,  and  that  many  of  them  ML  down  on  their  knees  as  they  hear  him 
oinning,  so  that  he  may  find  them  engaged  in  prayer  on  visiting  thdr  cell;  whereas,  imme- 
diately he  has  left,  they  put  their  tongue  in  their  cheek|  and  langh  at  his  gullibility. 
12 


170  THE  OBEAT  WOELD  OF  LOITDON. 

Nevertheless,  we  are  indined  to  belieye  that  there  is  a  greater  desire  for  religious 
oonsolatioii  among  prisoners  than  is  usoally  supposed.  Indeed,  it  is  our  creed  that  men 
oftener  deceive  themselves  in  this  world,  than  they  do  others.  Again,  it  should  be  borne  in 
mind,  that  criminals  are  essentially  creatures  of  impulse,  and  though  liable  to  be  deeply 
affected  for  the  moment,  are  seldom  subject  to  steady  and  permanent  impressions.  TMb 
very  unsettledness  of  purpose  or  object,  is  the  distinctive  point  of  the  oriminal  character,  so 
that  such  people  become  inoapable  of  all  continuity  of  action  as  well  as  thought.  Hence,  it 
is  quite  in  keeping  with  the  nature  of  criminals,  that  when  subjected  to  the  depressing 
influence  of  separate  confinement,  they  should  exhibit  not  only  deep  sorrow  for  their  past 
career,  but  also  make  earnest  resolves  to  lead  a  new  life  for  the  Aiture,  as  well  as  offer  up 
devout  prayers  for  strength  to  carry  out  their  intentions — even  though  in  a  few  days  or 
months  afterwards,  they  themselves  should  be  found  scoffing  at  their  own  weakness,  and 
pursuing,  without  the  least  remorse,  the  very  same  course  for  which  a  little  while  ago  they 
had  expressed  such  intense  contrition-— contrition  that  was  as  fervent  and  truthfdl  as  a  child's 
at  the  time,  but  unfortunately  quite  as  evanescent. 

Still,  amid  all  this  fickleness  of  purpose  and  its  consequent  semblance  of  hypomsy,  and 
amid,  too,  a  large  amount  of  positive  religious  trickery  and  deoeit,  there  are  undoubted  cases 
of  lasting  changes  having  been  produced  by  the  discipline  of  separate  confinement.  As  an 
illustration  of  this  fieu^t,  tiie  following  letter  may  be  cited,  for  though  written  by  a  mere  boy 
prisoner,  previous  to  his  leaving  for  Australia,  we  have  the  best  assurances  that  the  after 
character  of  the  man  fully  bore  out  the  mature  professions  of  his  youth,  and  that  he  has 
since  returned  to  this  country,  not  only  honest,  but  a  highly  prosperous  person,  having  amassed 
a  considerable  fortune  in  the  colonies,  and  still  continuing  to  lead  the  godly,  righteous,  and  sober 
life  that  he  had  so  often  prayed  to  have  strength  to  pursue,  in  the  very  chapel  where  we  had 
but  lately  heard  the  other  convicts  supplicating — ^and  apparently  as  devoutly — ^for  the  same 
power: — 

CoPr  OF  A  LeTTEB  WBTCTEir  BY  J  D BEFOBE   LEAVHTO  PENTOmnLLB  PbIBOIT. 

(The  orthography  as  in  the  original.) 

"I,  J D ,  came  to  this  prison  on  Sep'.  28^  1843  inamost  pitifdl  condition. 

Destitute  of  true  religion,  of  any  morality,  of  any  sound  or  useful  knowledge,  or  of  any  desire 
to  acquire  the  same,  with  a  hard,  wicked,  and  perverse  heart  fuUy  bent  to,  and  set  on,  all 
manner  of  mischief,  altogether  ignorant  of  my  spiritual  condition,  a  child  of  the  Devil,  a 
lover  of  the  World,  a  slave  to  Sin,  under  a  most  miserable  condemnation,  having  no  hope 
and  without  God  in  the  World.  This  is  somewhat  the  condition  I  was  in  on  coming  to  this 
prison,  until  by  degrees  the  grace  of  Qoi  began  to  change  and  new  modle  me,  by  showing  to 
me  my  sins  and  then  leading  me  to  repentance,  by  giving  me  desires  to  love  and  fear  God 
my  Saviour,  by  enabling  me  rightly  to  understand  the  word  and  way  of  Salvation ;  and 
savingly,  with  fedth  to  receive  the  same.  I  can  say  now,  what  I  could  not  then ;  that  I  love 
those  commands  which  were  so  grievous  to  me  in  my  unr^generate  state.  I  delight  to  read, 
study,  hear  and  obey  the  blessed,  pure  and  holy  precepts  of  God's  Word,  and  I  hope  I  may 
ever  continue  to  do  the  same  to  my  life's  end ;  they  shall  be  my  guide,  my  teacher,  and 
director  through  the  dark  passage  of  this  world.  I  can  say  with  sincerity  I  have  enjoyed 
my  Sabbaths  of  affliction  and  solitude  far  more  than  the  days  spent  in  sinfiil  pursuits,  and  I 
have  been  always  as  comfortable  here  as  I  could  desire  to  be.  I  have  been  taught  most 
Godly,  truly,  savingly,  and  soundly,  the  truths  and  doctrines  of  God's  Word,  in  which  is 
contained  all  my  hopes,  comfort,  and  Salvation,  by  my  faithful  Pastors;  and  I  have  most 
haply  had  given  me  a  heart  to  receive  and  understand  the  same  to  my  great  comfort  I 
do  truly  intend  to  follow  the  &ith  that  my  ministers  have  taught  me,  and  to  live  «AftAwiiwg 
to  it,  GK>d's  grace  preserving  me.  I  am  simply  and  only  trusting  on  my  Saviour  for  Pardon, 
Bighteousness,  Sanctification,  and  Bedemption,  or  in  other  words  a  Joyful  Salvation.    And 


PEBTTONVIIitE  PBISON.  171 

Idofhinkitmyboimdendaty,  after  leceiTing  these  inajiifold  blessmgs  and  privelegeB,  at  all 
timeBy  and  at  eyery  period  of  my  life  to  keep  God's  commandments  by  loying  him  Supremely 
with  all  my  heart,  and  by  doing  to  all  men  as  I  wonld  they  should  do  unto  me — ^the  sum  of 
all  the  Commands.  The  breaking  of  these  has  been  the  cause  of  all  my  trouble  and  misfortune, 
but  the  keeping  of  them  will  be  my  fiiture  hapiness  and  prosperity  in  this  short  life,  and  in 
the  world  to  come  through  the  merit  of  my  Gracious  SaTiour,  "Wbom  I  hope  to  know  better, 
to  loye  more  and  to  worship  in  his  fear  eyermore,  Amen.  I  haye  always  found  my  officers 
yery  kind  to  me  especially  my  warder  and  Extra  Warder,  with  whom  I  haye  had  most  to 
do.  My  schoolmasters  haye  taught  me  a  great  deal  of  useful  knowledge,  and  haye  taken 
eyery  pains  to  instruct  me  in  what  was  good.  ••«**!  haye  learnt  Grammar 
BO  flur  as  to  parse  a  sentence  well.  Arithmetic  I  haye  made  great  progress  in.  I  could  not  do 
on  coming  here  Simple  Proportion,  but  I  haye  gone  through  my  arithmetic,  and  began  to 
study  Algebra  so  far  as  fractions.  I  haye  also  acquired  a  little  knowledge  of  Geography  and 
Astronomy,  with  other  useful  subjects.    *    ♦    ♦    ♦ 

''  And  in  this  condition  I  leaye  this  Prison  a  changed  and  altered  person  to  what  I  was  on 
coming  to  it.  But  by  the  Grace  of  God  I  am  what  I  am.  And  so  I  go  my  way  to  a  distant 
land,  steadfastly  purposing  to  lead  an  upright  life,  and  to  dwell  in  loye  and  charity  with  all 
men,  t^anViTig  God  for  this  affliction  which  hath  oonfered  so  many  blessings  upon  me. 

"J D ,  Aged  21,  June  29th,  1845.'' 

In  addition  to  the  aboye  we  may  feurther  quote  some  yerses  that  were  written  by  one  of 
the  Pentonyille  conyicts,  upon  the  subject  of  the  anecdote  of  the  burial  of  a  young  woman 
and  her  child  by  torchlight,  which  has  been  already  mentionGd  in  our  description  of  the 
service  in  the  Pentonyille  chapel ;  for  these  yerses  will  go  fSar  to  illustrate  the  point  we  have 
been  insisting  upon,  namely,  the  susceptibility  of  prisoners  in  separate  confinement  to  reli- 
gious and  other  graye  impressions  for  the  time  being : — 

ySBSES  WBHTEK  BT  OKE  OF  THE  PBISOIHEBS  IS  PBKTOiryiLLB  T7T0N  A  SEBJCON  nXLlYXSED  BT  IBS 

ASSIBIAirr-CHAPLADr,  XABOH,  1856. 

And  were  those  joyful  tears  the  old  man  thed? 
Could  he  unfeigned  rejoice  ?  his  daughter  dead, 
When  by  the  lantern's  gleam,  in  darkest  night, 
The  graye  reoeiyed  her  onoe  loVd  form  from  sight. 
He'd  trayelled  far  that  day  that  he  mig^t  gaze 
Upon  this  scene ;  this  caused  delay;  her  &ce 
He  could  not  see  again :  upon  her  breast. 
Her  little  babe  in  death's  embrace  did  rest : 
'  His  hoary  head  was  bare,  with  grief  his  yoice 
Exclaimed,  ''  My  God,  I  do  indeed  rejoice, 
That  thou  my  child  hast  taken  in  her  prime. 
And  sayed  from  fjarther  guilt,  and  shame,  and  crime !" 

The  minister  of  God,  one  Sabbath  mom, 
The  &ct  affirmed,  to  many  prisoners;  t<»n 
Prom  eyil  ways,  and  friends:  and  for  their  good 
Confhied  with  best  intent  to  solitude. 
But  how  describe  the  workingB  of  the  mind? 
Of  all,  some  felt,  and  wept,  and  some  were  blind. 
With  hardened  hearts,  and  steeped  in  guilt,  the  most 
Gould  glory  in  their  shame,  their  crimes  their  boast 
12« 


172  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Some  fathers,  too,  were  there,  with  daughters  left 
In  the  wide  world,  of  fostering  care  bereft : 
Their  anguish  great,  the  tears  fall  down  their  face. 
They  almost  felt  iaclined  to  curse  their  race. 

But  better  feelings  ruled,  as  one  they  heard. 
The  minister  explain  the  written  Word ; 
With  studious  zeal,  his  loye  for  souls  was  great, 
He  felt  commiseration  for  their  state ; 
His  text  tiie  miracle  that  Jesus  wrought. 
When  unto  Nain's  city  He,  unsought. 
Brought  joy  for  mourning,  dried  the  widow's  eyes, 
And  gracious  spoke — "  Yonng  man,  I  say,  arise !" 
His  glorious  theme,  the  Saviour's  wondrous  love, 
Caused  many  hearts  to  pity,  melt,  and  move, 
And  earnest  pray  that  Gtod  the  Spirit's  voice 
Might  now  be  heard — "  Young  man,  I  say,  arise  !" 
That  some  poor  souls,  immersed  in  guilt  and  sin, 
Might  feel  the  power  of  love,  new  life  begin 
To  find ;  forsake  their  guilty  paths ;  repent. 
The  ways  of  heaven  pursue  with  pure  intent. 
Might  hunger  after  righteousness  divine. 
And  let  their  fiiture  conversation  shine ; 
Might  have  a  blessed  hope  beyond  the  skies, 
Wben  the  last  trump  shall  sound,  '*  Arise !  Arise  !*' 


THS  FEMALB  CONVICT  FRISOK  AT  BUIXTON. 

The  Female  Convict  Prison  at  Brixton  lies  in  a  diametrically  opposite  direction  to  the 
''  Model  Prison"  at  Pentonville — the  former  bearing  south,  and  the  latter  north,  of  the  heart 
of  London ;  and  the  one  being  some  six  miles  removed  from  the  other. 

It  is  a  pleasant  enough  drive  down  to  the  old  House  of  Correction,  on  Brixton  Hill,  espe- 
cially if  the  journey  be  made,  as  ours  was,  early  one  spring  morning,  without  a  cloud  to  dLn 
the  clear  silver-gray  sky,  and  before  the  fires  had  darkened  and  thickened  the  atmosphere  of 
the  Metropolis. 

It  is  curious,  by  the  by,  to  note  the  signs  of  spring-time  that  come  to  the  Londoner's 
ear.  Not  only  does  the  woman's  shrill  cry  of  ''Two  bunches  a-penny— sweet  wa-a-11- 
fiowers !"  resound  through  the  streets,  telling  of  the  waking  earth  and  the  bursting  buds, 
and  wafting  the  mind  far  away  to  fields  and  gardens;  but  there  are  long  trucks  in  the 
thoroughfares,  the  tops  of  which  are  a  bright  canary-yellow,  with  their  hundred  roots  of 
blooming  primroses,  and  others  a  pale  delicate  green,  with  the  mass  of  trailing  musk-plants, 
while  the  hoarse-voiced  barrow-men  are  shouting,  ''  All  a-blowing !  all  a-growing ! "  as  they 
halt  by  the  way.  Then  there  are  tiny  boys  and  girls  either  crying  their  bunches  of  exqui- 
sitely odorous  sweetbriar,  or  thrusting  little  bouquets  of  violets  almost  under  your  nose,  and 
following  you  half-down  the  street  as  you  go;  whilst  many  of  the  onmibus-drivers  have  a 
small  sprig  of  downy-looking  palm  stuck  out  at  one  comer  of  their  moutii.  Farther,  thei« 
are  the  hawkers  balancing  their  loads  of  spring  vegetables  on  their  heads,  the  baskets  laden 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PBI80N  AT  BBIXTON.  ir$ 

with  bundles  of  bright  fleah-ooloured  rhubarb,  and  with  small  white  wicker  pktters,  as  it 
were,  in  their  hands,  some  filled  with  pale  waxen-looking  sea-kale/  and  others  bright  greeny 
with  an  early  dishfiil  of  spring  salad. 

Moreoyer,  the  streets  echo  throughout  the  day  with  women's  cries  of  "  Any  o^omaments 
for  your  fire  stove ! "  pleasantly  reminding  one  of  the  coming  warmth;  and  presently  you 
see  these  same  women  flit  by  your  window,  carrying  a  number  of  light  and  bright-hued  cut 
pc^erB  that  are  not  unlike  so  many  weU-be-flounoed  ladies'  muslin  aprons,  and  bearing  on 
their  aim  a  basket  filled  with  tinted  shavings,  that  remind  one  of  a  quantity  of  parti-coloured 
soapsuds,  or,  better  still,  ihe  top  of  a  confectioner's  trifle. 

On  the  morning  of  our  visit  to  Brixton,  as  we  passed  along  the  streets  towards  West- 
minster Bridge,  we  met  hawkers  coming  from  the  early  market  at  Covent  Garden,  with  their 
trucks  and  baskets  laden  with  the  pretty  and  welcome  treasures  of  the  spring;  and  the  tank- 
like watering-carts  were  out  in  the  thoroughfares,  playing  their  hundred  threads  of  water 
upon  the  dusty  roadways  for  the  first  time,  that  we  had  noted,  in  the  course  of  the  present 
year.  Then  it  was  peculiar  to  be  able  to  see  right  down  to  the  end  of  the  long  thorough- 
fares, and  to  find  the  view  of  the  distant  houses  no  longer  filmed  with  mist,  but  the  gables 
of  tibe  buildings,  and  the  steeples  of  the  churches,  and  the  unfinished  towers  of  the  Houses  of 
Parliament  standing  out  sharp  and  definite  against  the  blue  back-ground  of  the  morning  sky; 
whilst,  as  we  crossed  the  crazy  old  Westminster  Bridge — ^where  the  masons  seem  destined  to 
be  for  ever  at  work — ^the  pathways  were  crowded  with  lines  of  workmen  (though  it  was  not 
yet  six  o'clock)  streaming  along  to  their  labour,  and  each  with  his  little  bundle  of  food  for 
the  day,  dangling  from  his  hand. 

Then,  shorUy  after  our  ''Hansom"  had  dived  beneath  the  railway  viaduct  that  spans 
the  Westminster  Boad,  we  came  suddenly  into  the  region  of  palatial  hospitals  and  philan- 
thropic institutions,  as  well  as  Catholic  cathedrals  and  St.  Faul's-like  lunatic  asylums,  and 
handsome  gothic  schools  for  the  blind,  together  with  obeliskine  lamp-posts  bmlt  in  the  centre 
of  the  many  converging  roads,  and  gigantic  coaching  taverns,  too— that  one  and  all  serve  to 
make  up  the  "  West  End,"  as  it  were,  of  the  lai^  and  distinct  Metropolis  over  the  water. 

The  atmosphere  was  still  so  dear  and  fresh,  tiiat  though  we  turned  off  by  the  Orphan 
Asylum  we  could  see  far  down  the  bifid  thoroughfares,  and  behold  the  dome  of  Bethlem 
Hospital,  as  well  as  the  cathedral  tower  of  Saint  George's,  soaring  into  the  air  high  above 
tiie  neighbouring  rooft. 

In  a  few  minutes  afterwards  we  were  in  the  peculiar  suburban  regions  of  London,  where 
the  houses  are  excruciatingly  genteel,  and  each  is  pre&ced  by  a  small  grass-plat  hardly  bigger 
than  a  Turkey  carpet ;  and  where,  in  the  longer  garden  at  the  back,  an  insane  attempt  is 
usually  being  made  to  grow  cabbages  and  cucumbers  at  something  under  a  crown  a-piece— the 
realm  of  Cockney  terraces,  and  crescents,  and  ovals,  and  commons,  and  greens,  and  Hoins 
Taverns,  and  donkey  stands,  as  well  as  those  unpleasant  hints,  in  the  shape  of  lodge-like 
tuxnpikes,  that  one  is  approaching  the  outskirts  of  London. 

Then,  as  we  turn  off  by  St.  Mary's  Church,  the  thoroughfisure  begins  to  assume  a  still  more 
suburban  look;  for  now  the  houses  get  to  be  semi-detached,  the  two  small  residences  clubbing 
together  so  as  to  make  each  other  appear  twice  as  big  as  it  really  is;  while  every  couple  of 
villas  is  struggling  to  look  like  a  small  mansion  in  a  tiny  park,  with  a  joint-stock  carriage- 
drive  in  front,  that  is  devoted  to  the  use  of  ^^  fly  that  is  occasionally  hired  to  take  the  ladies 
out  to  tea  and  scandal,  with  the  female  president,  may-be,  of  the  Blanket,  Coal,  and  Baby-linen 
Sodety,  in  the  neighbourhood.  Here  the  residents  are  mostiy  of  a  commercial  and  evan- 
gelical character ;  the  gentiemen  all  go  up  to  town  in  the  *'  Paragons "  every  morning  to 
attend  at  the  Stock  Exchange ;  and  the  young  ladies  set  forth  on  their  rounds  in  connection 
with  the  district  visiting  societies — ^their  only  dissipation  being  the  novelty  of  a  sermon  from 
Bcone  Uack  missionary  preacher  who  may  come  down  to  the  neighbouring  chapeL 

Hesre  are  seen  gloomy-looking  ahopsi  inscribed  ''Tract  Depdts;"  and  as  we  pass  the 


174  THE  OKEAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 

e^tircli  at  the  angle  of  the  road,  leith  the  showy  tomb  gtanding  at  tlie  extreme  point  of  the 
burynLg-groundy  and  begin  to  mount  the  hill,  we  see  honaes  with  a  kind  of  Bummer-hoofle 
bnilt  on  the  roof  for  enjoying  the  extensive  view  of  the  dead  of  London  smoke  for  ever 
liflwgfwg  over  the  adjacent  Metropolis. 

fiere^  again,  are  large  half-rostio  half-eockney  taverns,  where  the  City  and  West  End 
omnibuses  start  from,  and  here,  at  the  end  of  a  roral  "  blind  alley"  hard  by — a  nairowiah 
lane,  known  as  the  Prison  IU>ad,  to  which  there  is  no  outlet  at  the  other  exiiemity — stands 
what  was  once  the  Surrey  House  of  Correction,  and  is  now  the  Female  Conyict  Prison. 


The  Sistory,  Plan,  and  Discipline  of  the  Prison. 

The  Brixton,  or  rather  Surrey  House  of  Correction,  is  situate  in  one  of  the  most  open 
and  salubrious  spots  in  the  southern  surburbs  of  London.  ''  Like  all  the  jails  erected  about 
jforty  or  sixty  years  ago,"  says  Mr.  Dixon,  in  his  work  on  the  ''London  Prisons,"  ''it  was 
built  in  the  form  of  a  rude  crescent,  the  govemor^s  house  being  in  the  common  centre,  and 
his  drawing-room  window  commanding  a  view  of  all  the  yards.  It  was,  par  exeeUenee,'* 
he  adds,  "  a  hard-labour  prison."  Lideed,  the  treadmill,  which  now  generally  forms  a  part 
of  the  machinery  of  correctional  prisons,  was  first  set  up  at  Brixton.  This  was  in  the  year 
1817,  the  apparatus  having  been  invented  by  Mr.  Cubitt,  of  Ipswich. 

This  prison  was  originally  built  and  adapted  for  175  prisoners,  having  been  fitted  with 
149  separate  cells,  and  12  double  ones.  The  separate  cells  were  each  8  X  7)  X  6  feet, 
and  almost  unventilated,  so  that  they  were  considerably  more  than  half  as  small  again  as 
the  "  Model  cells"  at  Pentonville,  the  latter  having  a  capacity  of  911  cubic  feet,  whilst  the 
capacity  of  those  at  Brixton  was  only  360  cubic  feet ;  and  yet,  though  from  their  defective 
ventilation  they  were  unfitted  for  the  confinement  of  one  prisoner,  and  because  the  law  did  not 
allow  two  persons  to  be  placed  in  one  cell,  it  was  the  practice,  in  order  to  evade  the  statute 
by  a  legal  quibble,  to  cram  as  many  as  three  into  each  of  the  "dog-holes" — as  the  C^ermans 
tmn  their  andent  dungeons — ^while  bedding  was  supplied  only  for  two.  The  consequence 
was,  that  though  the  prison  was  built  for  the  acconmiodation  of  only  175  prisoners,  the  usual 
number  confined  within  it  was  more  tiian  double  that  amount,  or  upwards  of  400.  Hence 
it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that,  despite  its  standing  in  the  healthiest  situation,  the  old 
Surrey  House  of  Correction  was  one  of  the  unhealthiest  of  all  the  London  prisons;  and  that 
out  of  4,048  persons  passing  through  it  in  the  course  of  the  year,  there  should  have  been 
not  less  than  1,085  sick  cases  reported,  249  of  which  were  fevers,  caused,  in  the  surgeon's 
opinioa,  by  the  over-orowded  state  of  the  jail. 

On  the  removal  of  the  Surrey  House  of  Correction  to  the  New  Prison  at  Wandsworth, 
the  Brixton  Jail  was  ordered  to  be  pulled  down ;  but,  owing  to  sentences  of  penal  servitude 
at  home  having  been  substituted  for  transportation  abroad  (16  and  17  Vic),  it  became 
necessary  to  establish  a  prison  for  female  convicts.  With  this  view  the  Surveyor-General 
was  authorized  to  treat  for  the  Brixton  House  of  Correction.  It  was  ultimately  purchased  of 
the  county  for  the  sum  of  £13,000 ;  and  immediately  afterwards  certain  additions  and  altera- 
tions were  commenced,  so  as  to  render  it  capable  of  accommodating  from  700  to  800  female 
convicts. 

These  additions  consisted  principally  of  the  erection  of  two  wings— one  at  either  end  or 
horn  of  the  old  crescent-shaped  range  of  buildings — as  well  as  a  new  chapel,  laundry,  and 
houses  far  the  superintendent  and  chaplain.  The  wings  were  adapted  for  the  accommodation 
of  212  prisoners  in  each,  so  that  the  prison  accommodation,  when  these  were  finished,  con- 
sisted of  158  separate  ceDs^  12-  punishment  cells,  424  separate  sleeping  oeUs,  besides  two  sets 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PRISON  AT  BBIXTON. 


175 


of  four  aasociaiioii  roomB— one  at  the  flonth-easteni  and  the  other  at  the  Bouth-wefltem  angle 
0f  the  building,  and  each  capable  of  containing  Bome  60  prisoners  (15  in  each  room),  or  120 
in  an ;  flo  that  altogether  the  present  accommodation  afforded  by  the  new  prison  cells  and  the 
old  ones  is  sufficient  for  abont  700  prisoners,  whilst  the  altered  building  has  now  the  general 
appearance  and  arrangement  shown  on  page  176.* 

**  In  the  course  of  the  autumn  of  1853/'  say  the  Qovemment  Beports,  *^  steps  were  taken 
to  (H^anize  the  staff  for  the  new  establishment.  It  was  then  decided  that  the  efficient  female 
officers  at  MiUbank  should  be  removed  to  Brixton,  and  that  the  female  establishment  at  the 
former  prison  should  be  gradually  broken  up,  all  articles  that  could  be  used  being  made  avail- 
able for  the  latter. 

**  Towards  the  end  of  November  in  the  above-mentioned  year,  there  were  75  cells  com- 
pleted and  fit  for  occupation,  and  as  the  numbers  of  female  convicts  in  the  several  prisons — 


*  At  the  time  of  our  viilt,  the  following  were  the  number  and  dietribation  of  the  female  oonvicta 
confined  within  this  ptuon : — 

DIBTBIBUnOK  OF  PRUORBIUB  AT  BBIXTON  PBUOir,   18tH  APBIL,   1866. 


DiriafQii. 


Old  Prison  Cells 
{fBrprobaHonutry' 
priaomrt,) 


Total    .     . 


Ditto,  ditto,  As- 
sodated  Booms 


Total    .    . 


I 


A 
B 
0 
D 
B 
F 


16 
20 
8 
17 
20 
14 


1 
2 
3 

4 


95 


A 

A 


0 
4 
7 
0 
2 
I 


14 


19 
16 
15 
16 


66 


4 
4 
1 
1 


10 


0 
0 
0 

1 
1 

0 


2 


16 
24 
16 
18 
23 
15 


0 
0 
0 
0 


a 
t 


Divifioiu 


111 


28 
20 
16 
17 


I 


76 


Weet  Wing  . 
(/or  Ui  elaia 
priion^s.) 

Total    . 


Bast  Wing'    . 
{/or  2nd  and  Zrd 
cUut  prisonen,) 

Total    . 


i 


A 
B 
C 

D 


A 
B 

0 
D 


I 


60 
61 
61 
61 


203 


49 
49 
61 
60 


199 


6 
2 
2 
3 


12 


7 

4 
2 

4 


A 


o 


66 
63 
63 
64 


17 


66 
63 
63 
64 


Total  in  the  Prison 

Komber  of  prisonets  in  each  class : — 
First  Glass 
Second  Glass 
Third  CUms,  and  Probation  . 


618 


367 
194 
67 


618 


I 

u 
O 


216 


216 


On  the  other  hand,  the  subjoined  table  shows  on  one  side  the  number  of  prisoners  xeoeiyed  at  Brixton  in 
the  eouxse  of  the  year  1864,  and  on  the  other  aide  how  some  of  these  were  disposed  of  i-^ 

AMinrAX;  STATBMBNT    OF    THB    XSMOVAI.    OV    CJOHVICTS  TO  AlTD  VBOK    BBTKTOK  PBttOK, 

juri'wium   1st  amd  SIst  dbobkbbb,  1864. 


On  the  1st  January,  1864  :— 

The  Kumber  of  GonTicts  in  Brixton  Prison    •    76 

Beoeived  during  the  Year  irom  Millbank  Prison  178 

From  Gonnty  and  Borough  Jails     •    .  410 

liOBatio  Asylum  ....*...      1 

411 


Disposed  of  during  the  Tear,  by- 
Discharged  by  License     9 

Ditto,  on  Medical  Orounds 4 

Pardons    .    .     {cSditionill  .'   .'    .'    .*    .'    *  1 

Bemoved  to  Lunatio  Asylum 2 

Died 4 

Number  remaining  31st  December,  1864    .    .  643 


p:y 


Total 


664 


Total 


664 


176  THE  GItEAT  "WOBLD  OP  LONDON. 

ugmeuted  by  the  c«SBalion  of  tnuuportation — baduicreu«dtoBaiiic<mveiiiMiteztait,U'wia 
thought  desirable  to  relieve  them  by  making  use  of  even  this  limited  amonitt  of  accom- 
modakon.    Accordingly  tbat  number  of  females  vas  removed  from  Uillbank  to  Brixtmi  on 


UU>'B.ETB  VIBW  OP  THB  FBICALS  CONVICT  PBI80M  AT  BBUTOM. 

the  24th  of  November,  1853 — those  selected  for  removal  being  chosen  in  consequenoe  of 
their  previous  good  behaviour  and  their  acquaintance  vith  piison  discipline." 

As  regards  the  discipline  enforeed  at  Biixton  prison,  it  maybe  taii  to  consist  of  a  jveliminary 
stege  of  separation  as  a  period  of  probation,  and  afterwards  of  advancement  into  snoceeaiTe 
stages  of  discipline,  each  having  snperior  privileges  to  those  wbioh  preceded  it;  bo  that  whilst 
the  preliminary  stage  consiBls  of  a  state  of  comporativs  isolation  from  the  world,  the  fbmale 
prisoners  in  the  latter  stages  of  the  treatment  are  subject  to  less  and  less  stringent  ngulations, 
and  thus  pass  gradually  t^irough  states  first  of  what  are  termed  "  silent  association,"  under 
which  titef  are  allowed  to  work  in  common  without  speaking,  and  afterwards  advance  to  a 
state  of  asBociatiou  and  interoonmiunicati<»i  dniing  the  day,  thouj^  still  slewing  c^iart  at 
night. 

The  following  are  the  reasons  assigned  for  this  mode  of  treatment : — 

"Until  rery  lately  female  convicts,"  the  anthoritiM  tell  us,  "were  taught  to  regard 
ezpatriatitm  as  the  inevitable  consequence  of  their  sentenoe ;  and  when  detuned  in  v^llhaTilf 
— usually  fbr  some  months,  waiting  embarkation — they  wen  reconciled  to  the  discipline, 
howeva  strict,  by  the  knowledge  that  it  would  soon  cease,  and  that  it  was  only  a  necessary 
step  towards  all  bat  absolnto  freedom  in  a  colony.  Now,  however,  the  oircnmstanoes  being 
materially  altered,  and  discharge  frvm  prison  in  fltis  conntry  becoming  the  mle,  it  is 
essential  that  a  correeponding  change  in  the  treatment  of  female  prisoners  should  take  place, 
with  die  view  to  preparing  them  to  re-enter  the  world.  Hence  the  neoeesity  fbr  establishing 
a  system  commahning  with  penal  coercion,  fallowed  by  appreciable  advante^  6x  c^mtinaed 
good  behaviour. 

"  As  therefore  a  systematized  classification,  defaoted  by  badges,  and  the  placing  of  small 
gratoities  for  indnatry  to  the  credit  of  the  deserving,  have  been  found  by  experience  in  all 
the  coUTlct  prisons  to  produce  the  most  satia&ctwy  results,  the  same  principle  ha>  b«ea  ez- 
t«nded  to  Brixton." 


THE  EEMALE  CONYICT  PRISON  AT  BMXTOK  177 

^WUk  this  Tiew  the  prifloners  there  are  diyided  into  the  following  classes: — (1)  First 
daw— (2)  Second  Class— (8)  Third  Glass— (4)  Probation  Class. 

All  prisoners  on  reception  are  placed  in  the  probation  dass,  and  confined  in  the  cells  of 
the  old  prisQDr^in  ordinary  cases  for  a  period  of  four  months,  and  in  special  cases  for  a  longer 
temiy  according  to  their  conduct;  and  no  prisoner  in  the  probation  class  is  allowed  to  receiye 
a  Tint. 

On  leaving  ilie  probation  class  the  prisoner  is  promoted  to  the  third  class,  and  when 
she  has  conducted  herself  well  in  that  class  for  the  space  of  two  months,  she  is  allowed  to 
receiTe  a  visit.  Then,  if  her  conduct  continue  good  for  a  period  of  six  months  after  promotion 
to  the  third  class,  she  is  transferred  to  the  second  class,  and  is  not  only  allowed  to  wear 
a  badge  marked  2,  as  indicative  of  h.er  promotion,  but  becomes  entitled  to  a  gratnity  of  from 
sixpence  to  eightpence  a  week  for  her  labour,  such  gratuity  going  to  form  a  fond  for  her 
on  her  liberation. 

If  after  this  she  still  continue  to  behave  herself  well,  while  in  the  second  class,  for  another 
period  of  mx  months,  she  then  is  raised  into  the  first  class,  and  allowed  to  wear  a  badge 
marked  1,  as  well  as  becoming  entitled  to  a  gratuity  of  eightpence  to  a  shilling  a  week  for  her 


No  pirisoiier  is  recommended  for  removal  or  discharge  on  license  (or  tioket-of-leave)  until 
she  has  proved  herself  worthy  of  being  introsted  with  her  liberty  previous  to  the  expiration 
of  her  sentenoe. 

Old  or  invalid  prisoners,  or  those  who  have  infants,  or  who,  from  any  other  cause,  may  be 
unaUe  to  work,  have  their  case  specially  considered  (after  having  gained  their  promo- 
tion to  the  first  or  second  dass),  with  a  view  to  their  being  credited  with  some  small  weekly 
gratuity.  ^ 

Prisoners  may  be  degraded  (with  the  sanction  of  a  director)  from  a  higher  to  a  lower 
dass  through  misconduct,  but  their  former  position  may  be  regained  by  good  conduct,  and 
that  without  passing  the  full  time  in  each  class  over  again.  AU  privileges^  moreover,  for 
good  behaviour,  such  as  gratuities  for  work,  and  the  permission  to  receive  visits,  may  be 
finrfeited  by  bad  behaviour. 

"  The  means  at  our  command,"  add  the  directors,  "  for  improving,  if  not  actually  reform- 
ing, finnale  convicts  in  prison,  though  carefully  designed  and  fEtithfully  executed,  will  be  in- 
sufficient in  many  instances  unless  some  asylum  be  found  to  receive  them  on  their  discharge 
from  prison.  The  difficulties  in  the  way  of  such  women,  as  the  majority  of  these  prisoners, 
returning  to  respectability  are  too  notorious  to  require  description  or  enumeration.  They 
beset  them  iu  every  direction  the  moment  they  are  discharged,  and  drive  them  .back  to  their 
finrmer  evil  ways  and  bad  associates,  if  they  be  not  rescued  through  the  medium  of  a  refuge 
from  whence  they  may  obtain  service.'' 


Jhieriw  of  the  Brixton  Prison. 

It  was  not  much  after  aX  o'clock  when  we  began  our  da3r^s  Sounds  at  the  above  insti- 
tution. The  gateway  here  looks  as  ordinary  and  ugly  as  that  oi  Pentonville  appears 
picturesque  and  stately,  the  Brixton  portal  being  merely  the  old-fashioned  arched  gateway, 
with  a  series  of  *'  dabbed"  stones  projecting  round  the  edge,  and  the  door  itself  studded 
with  huge  nails. 

On  the  gate  being  opened,  we  were  saluted  in  military  style  by  the  ordinary  prison  gate- 
keeper, and  shown  idto  the  little  lodge,  or  old-fiadiioned  porter^s  office  at  the  side,  where 
we  were  soon  joined  by  the  prindpal  matron  (whom  the  superintendent  had  kindly  directed 


178 


THE  QBEAT  WOKLD  OF  LOITDOIf . 


to  accompany  ns  for  the  entire  day),  and  lequesied  to  fidlow  her  to  Hbe  interior  ti  the 
building. 

The  matron  was  habited  in  what  we  afterwards  learnt  waa  the  official  ooatome  or  nni- 
form  belonging  to  her  station ;  there  was,  however,  so  little  peculiar  about  her  drees  that  it 
was  not  until  we  saw  the  other  principal  matrons  in  the  same  ocdoored  ribbons  and  gowns 
that  we  had  the  slightest  notion  that  such  a  costume  partook  in  any  way  of  a  uniform  char 
racter.  She  wore  a  doTC-coloured,  fine  woollen  dress,  with  a  black-doth  mantle,  and  straw 
bonnet,  trimmed  with  white  ribbons,  such  being  the  official  costome  of  the  principal  matrans. 
The  uniform  of  the  matrons,  on  the  other  hand,  consists  of  the  same  coloured  gown,  but 
the  bonnet  is  trimmed  with  deep  blue,  and  when  in  the  exereifling  grounds,  the  doak  they 
wear  is  a  large,  deep-caped  afiair,  that  reaches  nearly  to  the  feet,  and  is  made  of  green  wooUen 
plaid. 

While  treating  of  this  part  of  the  subject,  we  may  add  that  one  of  the  main  peculiaritieB 
of  Brixton  Prison  is,  that  the  great  body  of  officials  there  belong  to  the  softer  sex,  so  that  the 
discipline  and  order  maintaiaed  at  that  institution  become  the  more  interesting  as  being  the 
work  of  those  whom  the  world  generally  considers  to  be  ill-adapted  for  government.  So  much 
are  we  the  creatures  of  prejudice,  however,  that  it  soimds  almost  ludicrous  at  first  to  hear 
Miss  So-and-so  spoken  of  as  an  experienced  officer,  or  Mrs.  Such-a-one  described  as  having 
been  many  years  in  the  service,  as  well  as  to  learn  that  it  is  some  young  lady's  turn  to  be 
on  duty  that  night,  or  else  that  another  fiEdr  one  is  to  act  as  the  night-patrol.  It  will  be  seen, 
too,  by  the  subjoined  list  of  officers  at  Brixton  Prison,*  that  even  the  poets  of  superin- 

*  The  following  is  a  lift  of  the  fleyeral  offioen  of  the  Female  Convict  Prison,  Brixton,  in  the  year 
18^6:— 


LIST  OF  PB1K0IPAL  0P7ICEB8  AND  CLBBX8 


£mma  M.  Martin 
Melhuish 
Ber.  J.  H.  Moran 
Jas.  B.  Bendle   . 
Fred.  S.  Parkyn 
John  Face     .    . 
Edwin  Mills      . 

John  Wildman  . 
Sarah  Mott  .  . 
Margaret  Hall  . 


Catherine  Hewitt  . 
Mary  Ann  Donnelly 
Susannah  "White    , 
Elijsaheth  Jones 

Maria  Hill    .    .    . 


Mary  Jane  Bennett 
Saiuh  fiogers 
Ellen  Jones  .    . 
AnnEediongh   . 
Ellen  Cordwent 
Emma  Fox    .    . 
Harriet  White  . 
Mary  F.  Machins 
Merrion  Stewart 
Mary  Deaville  . 
Agnes  J.  Mayne 
Susan  Edwards 
Catherine  Eeevea 
Constance  Croeling 


LIST 


Augusta  Madesh 
Eleanor  Millingtnn 

OF  OFFICBBS  JX  THB  JtAXUTACrJTBXKO  OB  LABOUR 


Marianne  Fry 
Elixabeth  Harrison 
Ann  Stevenson 
Mary  A«  Hall 


Superintendent 

Deputy  ditto 

Chaplain 

Surgeon 

Steward 

Superintendents  clerk 

Steward's  ditto 


(Vacant)  .    .    . 
W.  F.  Ralph     . 
Julia  Sims    .    . 
Sarah  Smith 
Caroline  Hassall 


Steward's  clerk 

Workmistress 

Cutter 


Chas.  Pumell  .  .  . 
Fredk.  King  .  .  . 
Oeo.Aylward    .    •    . 

LIST  OF  SX7B0BDINATB  OFPICBBS  AlTD  SBBVAJHS. 


Principal  Matron 

Do.  acting  as  derk  to  Su- 
perintendent. 
Do.  do.  to  Chaplain. 

Matron 
f> 

n 
>» 
ft 
>» 
»» 
»» 
»» 
>♦ 
f> 

i» 
Assistant  do. 


»9 

ft 


Jane  Alderson  •  • 
Caroline  Tucker  . 
Eliaabeth  White  . 
Martha  A.  Dickson 
Margaret  Foley  • 
Eliza  Leatherdale  . 
Msrgaret  Hughes  . 
Mana  Hutchinson 
Lavinia  Macpherson 
Emma  Melhuish 
Msria  Palmer  . 
Louisa  Face  .  . 
Eliaabeth  A.  Baber 
Merrion  Halliday 
Mary  Smith  .  • 
George  Luckett 
William  Hant  . 
Mary  Mant  .  . 
William  Allan  . 
Thomas  Boberts 

John  Simmance 
Thos.  Hawkins . 
Stephen  PaakhnrBt 


Steward's  derk 
Foreman  of  Works 
Scripture  Beadsr 
Schoolmistress 


9t 
9* 


Engineer 
Steward's  porter 


n 


>9 


Assistant  MatroB 

» 
ft 

» 
W 
t> 
»t 
>» 
V 

Jt 

M 
W 

HeadKnrse 

Gatekeeper 

Baker 

Cook 

Messenger 

Watchman 

Carpenter 

Plumber 

Labourer 


THE  FEMAIS  CONVICT  PEISON  AT  BEIXTON.  179 

tendcni^s  and  ehaplain's  oterks  are  women ;  bat  those  who  are  inclined  to  smile  at  such 
matters  shonld  pay  a  visit  to  the  Female  Convict  Prison  at  Brixton,  and  see  how  admirably 
the  ladies  veally  manage  snch  affiiinu 

Thero  is  but  litde  architectiual  or  engineering  skill  to  be  noticed  in  the  building  at 
Briston,  after  the  eye  has  been  aoeostomedto  the  comparative  elegance  and  scientific  refine- 
ment vifidUe  in  the  arrangements  of  PentonviUe. 

At  the  end  of  a  laige  oonrt-yaidi  as  we  enter,  stands  a  chunsy-looldng  octagonal  house, 
tiiat  was  originally  the  governor's  residence,  or  *'  argus,"  as  such  places  were  formerly  styled, 
whence  he  was  sapposed  to  inspect  the  varions  exercising  yards  and  sides  of  the  jail  itself. 
This  argus,  however,  is  now  devoted  to  the  several  stores  and  principal  offices  required  for 
ihe  management  of  the  prison. 

The  most  remarkable  parts  of  the  jail  are  the  two  new  wings  built  at  the  comers,  or 
horns,  as  we  have  said,  of  the  old  crescent-shaped  building.  These  consist  each  of  one  long 
corridor,  th»  character  of  which  is  somewhat  like  the  interior  of  a  tall  and  narrow  terminus 
to  some  railway  station ;  for  the  corridors  here  are  neither  so  spacious  nor  yet  so  desolate- 
looking  as  those  at  PentonviUe,  since  at  Brixton  there  are  stoves  and  tables  arranged  down 
the  centre  of  the  arcades,  and  the  cell-doors  are  as  dose  as  those  of  the  cabins  in  a  ship,  to 
which,  indeed,  the  cells  themselves,  ranged  along  the  galleries,  one  after  another,  bear  a  con- 
siderable resemblance. 

But  though  there  are  many  more  doors  visible  here  than  at  the  largest  railway  hotel, 
and  though  tiie  galleries  or  balconies  above,  with  their  long  range  of  sleeping  apartments 
stretching  rotmd  the  building,  call  to  mind  the  arrangements  at  the  yards  of  the  old 
coaching  inns,  nevertheless  there  is  nothing  of  the  ordinary  prison  character  or  gloomy  look 
about  this  part  of  the  building ;  and  though  the  corridors  are  built  somewhat  on  the  same 
plan  as  the  arcades  at  PentonviUe,  they  have  a  considerably  more  cheerM  look  than  the 
apparently  tenantless  tunnels  at  that  prison. 

The  old  parts  of  Brixton  Prison  are  the  very  opposite  to  the  newer  portions  of  it,  for  in  them 
we  see  the  type  of  a  gloomy  and  pent-up  jail.  There  the  passages  are  intensely  long  and 
narrow — ^like  flattened  tubes,  as  it  were — and  extend  from  one  point  of  the  crescent  to  the 
other,  at  the  back  of  every  floor ;  the  doors  of  the  ceUs  too  are  heavy  cumbrous  affairs,  with 
a  large  perforated  circular  plate  in  each,  such  as  is  seen  at  the  top  of  stoves,  for  admitting 
or  shutting-off  the  heated  air — ^which  clumsy  arrangement  was  originaUy  intended  as  a  means 
of  peeping  into  the  ceUs  from  without. 

These  passages  of  the  old  prison  are  as  white  as  snow  with  their  coats  of  Hme,  and  seem, 
from  the  monotony  of  their  colour  and  arrangement,  to  be  positively  endless,  as  you  pass  by 
door  after  door,  fitted  with  the  same  big  metal  wheel  for  spying  through,  and  the  huge  ugly 
lock  of  the  old  prison  kind. 

The  cells  in  this  part  of  the  building  are  not  unlike  so  many  cleanly  ceUars,  with  the 
exception  that  their  roofs  are  not  vaulted,  and  there  is  a  smaU  '*  long-light ''  of  a  window  near 
the  ceiling. 

These  ceUs  are  each  provided  with  a  gas-jet  and  chimney,  and  triangular  shelves,  as 
weU  as  a  small  stool  and  table,  and  a  Httie  deal  box  for  keeping  cloths  in,  and  which  can 
also  be  used  as  a  rest  for  the  feet.  Then  there  is  a  haimnock,  to  be  slung  from  waU  to  waU, 
as  at  PentonviUe,  and  the  rugs  and  blankets  of  which  are  usuaUy  folded  up  and  stacked  against 
the  side,  as  shown  in  the  annexed  engraving. 

The  cells  here  are  aU  whitewashed,  and  as  white  as  Alpine  snow,  with  their  coat  of  lime,  so 
that  they  try  the  sight  sorely  after  a  time ;  indeed,  we  were  teld  that  a  gipsy  woman  (one  of 
the  Coopers)  who  was  imprisoned  here,  suffered  severely  in  her  eyes  from  the  dazzling  white- 
ness of  the  walls  that  continuaUy  surrounded  her ;  and  if  it  be  true  that  perpetnaUy  gazing 
at  snow  has  a  tendency  te  produce  "  gutta  teretta  "  in  some  people,  we  can  readUy  understand 
the  acute  pain  that  must  be  experienced  by  those  whose  sight  is  unable  to  bear  such  intense 


ISO  THE  GBEAT  -ffOELD  OF  LONDOS. 

^are,  and  from  vbioh  it  is  impoasiUe  to  transfer  tlie  eye  even  ap  td  the  bine  of  the  Ay  by 
way  of  s  lelief.  Wo  yren  intbrmsd  that  the  gipey  voinan.  wan  very  viduit  during  her 
incarceratioii,  and  it  does  not  require  a  great  stretch  of  fuioy  to  conoeiTe  tiie  extzeme  mental 
and  physical  agony  that  must  have  been  inflicted  upon  such  a  person,  unaccoatomed  as  she 
had  been  all  her  life  even  to  the  ctmflnement  of  a  houM,  and  whose  eye  had  been  looking 
upon  the  green  fields  ever  since  her  in&noy ;  so  that  it  is  not  diflonlt  to  understand  bow 
the  fimi  blank  irbite  walls  £>r  ever  hemming  in  this  wretched  creatote,  must  have  seemed 


BEPASATE  CELL  IN  THE  OLD  F&BT  OF  THE  PalSOX  AT  BBIXIOH. 

not  only  to  have  half-siifled  her  wi&  their  doeenees,  but  almost  have  maddened  her  with 
the  intensity  of  their  mow-like  glare. 

The  cells  in  the  east  and  west  wings,  though  smaller  than  those  in  the  old  part  of  the 
prison,  have  not  nearly  so  jail-like  a  look  about  them  ;  tar  the  sides  of  these  are  built  of 
corrugated  iron,  and  though  fitted  with  precisely  the  same  fiimiture  as  the  cells  before 
descaibed,  they  greatly  resemble,  as  we  have  said,  the  cabin  of  a  ship  (see  engraving  on  next 
page),  whilst  the  arrangements  made  fbr  the  ventilation  of  each  chamber  are  as  perfect  as  they 
well  can  be  under  the  ciicomstancei. 

Kespectmg  the  character  of  the  inmates  of  this  prison,  the  Government  reports 
famish  ns  with  some  cnriooi  informatiDn.  "The  prisoners,"  say  the  Directors  of  her 
Hajeaty's  Convict  Prisons,  "  may  generally  be  classed,  as  regards  their  condnct,  in  two 
divimonsi  viz.,  the  many  who  are  good,  and  the  few  who  are  bad.  In  one  or  other  extreme 
these  unforttmate  fiaudes  hare  been  ucnally  fimnd.    It  ahw  by  no  means  mioommimly 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PBISON  AT  BRIXTON.  lai 

oecnn  ihat  a  voman  vho  luu  oondooted  herself  for  several  monOia  oatrageonsly,  and  beea 
to  all  appearance  iaaensible  to  Bhame,  to  kindness,  to  punishment,  irill  suddenly  alter  and 
mntiQiie  without  even  a  reprimand  to  the  end  of  her  imprisonment;  whereas,  on  the  other 
hand,  one  who  has  behaved  so  well  as  to  he  pat  into  the  first  olasa,  and  on  whom  apparently 
every  dependence  may  be  placed,  will  suddenly  break  oat,  give  way  to  uncontrollable  passion, 
and  in  utter  desperation  commit  a  ■nocossion  of  offences,  as  if  it  were  her  object  to  revenge 
herself  upon  herself. 

"  Among  the  worst  piiaoners  were  womm  who  had  been  sentenced  to  transportation  just 


previously  to  the  passing  of  the  Act  which  practically  snbstituted  imprisonment  in  this 
country  for  expatriation.  A  few  of  these  had,  according  to  their  own  statement,  even 
l^eaded  guilty  for  the  purpose  of  being  sent  abroad ;  but  when  Uiey  became  aware  that 
they  were  to  be  eventually  discharged  in  this  country  after  a  protracted  penal  detention, 
disappointment  rendered  tiiem  thoroughly  reckless;  hope  died  within  them;  they  actu- 
aUy  courted  punishment;  and  Qieir  delight  and  occupation  consisted  in  doing  as  much 
mischief  as  they  could.  They  constantly  destroyed  their  clothes,  tore  up  their  bedding, 
and  smashed  their  windows.  They  frequently  threatened  the  officers  with  violence, 
tlun^h  it  must  he  stated,  at  the  same  time,  they  seldom  proceeded  to  put  their  threats 
in  force ;  and  when  they  did  so,  some  amoi^  them — and  generally  those  who  were  most 
obmndona  to  discipline—  invariably  took  the  officers'  part  to  protect  them  from  penKmal 
injury. 


182  THE  GREAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 


^' Of  these  afe^aienotataUimproyed,iiotwitlmiaiiding1^kmdn 
or  the  ptudshments  they  hare  undergone^  or  the  moral  and  leligioiis  instractioii  ihey  have 
received ;  and  they  will  prohably  remain  so  until  their  sentenoes  hare  expired.     Some,  how- 
ever, are  doing  very  weU,  and  give  promise  of  real  amendment." 

Farther,  the  medical  officer,  in  his  report  for  the  year  1854,  says,  "I  may,  perhaps, 
be  here  allowed  to  state  that  my  experience  of  the  past  year  has  convinced  me  that  the 
female  prisoners,  as  a  body,  do  not  bear  imprisonment  so  well  as  the  male  prisoners; 
they  get  anxious,  restless,  more  irritable  in  temper,  and  are  more  readily  excited,  and 
they  look  forward  to  the  fatore  with  much  less  hope  of  r^aining  their  former  position  in 
life. 

''  Neither  can  I  refrain  from  saying  that  there  are  circumstances  which  help  to  reconcile 
the  male  prisoner  to  his  sentence,  but  which  are  altogether  wanting  in  the  case  of  the  female. 
The  male  prisoner  not  only  gets  a  change  from  one  prison  to  another — and  though  small 
as  this  change  be,  yet  it  is  a  something  which,  for  the  time,  breaks  the  sameness  inseparable 
from  his  imprisonment — ^but,  what  is  of  far  greater  moment,  he  looks  forward  to  the  time 
when  he  will  be  employed  in  the  opm  otir  on  public  works. 

'^  The  length  of  the  imprisonment  of  the  woman,  however,  combined  with  the  present 
uncertainty  as  to  the  duration  of  that  portion  of  her  sentence  which  is  to  be  passed  in  prison, 
as  well  as  the  more  sedentary  character  of  her  employment,  allowing  the  mind,  as  it  doea, 
to  be  continaally  dwelling  on  '  her  time' — all  tend  to  make  a  sentence  more  severe  to  the 
woman,  than  a  sentence  of  the  same  duration  to  the  man." 

Farther,  the  chaplain  gives  us  the  following  curious  statiatics  as  to  the  education  and 
causes  of  the  degradation  of  the  several  women  who  have  been  imprisoned  at  Brixton :  — 

"  Of  the  664.  prisoners  admitted  into  this  prison  from  Novemb^  24th,  1853,  to  December 
31st,  1854,  there  were  the  following  proportions  of  educated  and  uneducated  people : — 
Number  that  could  not  read  at  all       .  104 

„  „  could  read  a  few  syllables      ...       53 

„  „  could  read  imperfectly  .     192 

Total  imperfectly-educated 349 

Number  that  could  read  tolerably,  but  most  of  whom  had  learned 

in  prison  or  revived  what  they  had  learned  in  youth      .  315 

ModdTisUily'eiMeat&d None 

Total 664 


''Hence  it  appears,"  adds  the  chaplain,  ''that  among  664  prisoners  admitted  into  this 
prison,  there  is  not  one  who  has  received,  even  a  moderate  amount  of  education.  Among  the 
same  number  of  male  prisoners,  judging  by  my  past  experience,  I  feel  persuaded  that  there 
would  be  many  who  had  received  a  fair  amount  of  education.  This  confirms  me  in  the  opi- 
nion which  I  expressed  last  year,  '  that  the  beneficial  effects  of  education  are  more  apparent 
among  females  than  men.' 

"  Of  the  same  664  prisoners,  the  minister  tells  us — 

453  trace  their  ruin  to  dmnkenness  or  bad  company,  or  both  united. 
97  ran  away  from  home,  or  from  service. 
84  assigned  various  causes  of  their  fall. 
6  appear  to  have  been  suddenly  tempted  into  crime. 
8  state  that  they  were  in  want. 
16  say  they  are  innocent. 


664. 


>» 


THB  OONTICT  CHAFZL  OH  BOABD  THE  "  DBFEKCB "  HCILK  AT  WOOLWICH. 


A  WABD  08  fiOABD  TOE  "DEnHCS"  BCUC  AftBAhSED  70BTHE  KETDBN  07THX  CONTICTS  TO  DIMKEB. 


THE  FEaiALE  CONYIOT  PJtlSON  AT  BEIXTON.  183 

A  Day  at  Brixton.^ 

On  our  tray  acrofls  the  gravelled  oonrt-yard,  we  had  our  first  peep  at  the  female  oonyicts 
imprifloned  at  Brixton,  aad  bo  rimple  and  pictoiesqne  was  their  convict  costume,  that  they 
had  none  of  tiie  repnlsiye  and  spectral  appearance  of  the  brown  masked  men  at  FentonyiUe, 
nor  had  they  even  the  nnpleasant,  gray,  pauper  look  of  the  male  prisoners  at  Millbank. 

Their  dress  consisted  of  a  loose,  dark,  daiet-hrown  robe  or  gown,  with  a  blue  check  apron 
and  neckerchief,  while  the  cap  they  wore  was  a  small,  close,  white  muslin  one,  made  after 
the  £uhion  of  a  French  h(nme*s.  The  colour  of  the  gown  was  at  once  rich  and  artisticaUy 
appropriate,  and  gave  great  value  to  the  tints  of  the  apron,  and  even  the  whiteness  of  the 
cap  itself.  On  their  arms  the  prisoners  carried  some  bright  brass  figures,  representing  their 
Tc^aka  nnmber;  while  some  bore,  above  these,  badges  in  black  and  white,  inscribed  one 
or  two,  according  as  they  belonged  to  the  first  or  second  class  of  convicts. 

OooasionaUy  there  fiitted  across  the  yard  some  female  convict,  dad  in  a  light-blue  kind 
of  ovei^^ress.  These,  we  were  informed,  were  principally  at  work  in  the  laundry,  and 
the  garb,  though  partaking  too  much  of  the  butcher-tint  to  be  either  pleasing  or  picturesque, 
was  still  both  neat  and  clean. 

The  first  place  we  visited  was  the  bakery,  and  on  our  way  thither  we  passed  women 
carrying  large  Uaok  baskets  of  coal,  and  engaged  m  what  is  termed  the  **  coal  service  "  in 
the  yard. 

The  bakery  was  a  pleasant  and  large  light  building,  adjoining  the  kitchen,  and  here  we 
finmd  more  females,  in  light  blue  gowns,  at  work  on  the  large  dresser,  with  an  immense  heap 
of  dou|^  that  lay  before  them  like  ahuge  drab-coloured  feather-bed,  and  with  the  master  baker 
in  his  flannel  jacket  standing  beside  the  oven  watching  the  work.  Some  of  the  female  prisoners 
were  working  the  dough,  that  yielded  to  their  pressure  like  an  air-cushion ;  and  some  were 
cotling  off  pieces  and  weighing  them  in  the  scales  before  them,  and  then  tossing  them  over 
to  othen,  who  moulded  them  into  the  form  of  dumplings,  or  small  loaves. 

At  the  end  of  the  bakery  was  the  large  prison  kitchen,  where  stood  kind  of  beer-tn^ys-^ 
Budi  as  tibe  London  pot-boys  use  for  the  conveyance  of  the  mid-day  and  nocturnal  porter  to 
the  booses  in  the  neighbourhood.  These  trays  at  Brixton,  however,  served  for  the  conveyance 
of  the  dinner-cans  to  the'several  parts  of  the  prison,  whilst  the  huge,  bright,  spouted  tin  beerf 
cans  that  stood  beside  them  were  used  for  the  dispensation  of  the  cocoa  that  was  now  steaming 
in  theadjoining  coppers,  and  being  served  out  by  more  prisoners,  ready  against  the  breakfost* 
hour,  at  half-past  seven,f 

•  We  may  add  here,  that  the  Brixton  County  House  of  Oovrectioii,  aooording  to  Brayley^s  Sittorff  oj 
AMmy,  was  ereotod  in  1819-20,  for  the  reoeption  and  imprisonment  of  offenders  eentoiced  to  haid 
lahonr,  either  at  the  oonnty  aseUee  or  leenonfl,  or  summarily  oonyioted  before  a  magistrate.  **Thid 
boQiidary*waU»"  says  the  oounty  historian,  "  is  about  twenty  feet  in  height^  the  upper  pert  being  of  open 
brkk-work,  and  enoloees  about  two  and  t  half  acres  of  ground.  This  prison  is  chiefly  formed  by  a  semi- 
oetagonal  bnilding,  heTing  a  chapel  in  the  centre,  in  front  of  which,  but  separated  by  a  yard,  is  Uie  tread- 
miQ,  wUeh  was  fonaerly  more  than  suffioiently  notorious  from  the  severity  of  its  appliestion.'^ 

The  total  cost  of  the  bnilding,  together  with  the  sum  paid  for  the  purchase  of  the  land  and  ereetion 
ef  the  treadmill,  was,  we  aie  informed  by  Mr.  Woronsow  Greig,  the  obliging  derk  of  the  peace  for  Surrey, 
£51,780  17«.  7il.,  whilst  the  sum  paid  for  the  oonstruotien  of  the  mill  itself  was  £6,918  Z$,  6if. 

• 

t  For  breakfost  the  ordinary  prison  dietconsistsof  6  ounces  of  bread,  and  ]  pint  of  cocoa  to  each  prisoner, 
whilst  thoaa  engaged  in  the  Ubonr  of  the  laundry^  bakehouse,  ftc,  are  seyerslly  allowed  8  ounces  of  bread 
and  one  pint  of  coooa. 

For  dinner  tha  prison  allowance  is  4  ounces  of  cooked  meat»  |  pint  of  soup,  with  |  pound  of  potatoes  and 
6  oanoes  of  brea^  whilat  the  labooreia  get  each  5  ounces  of  meat|  and  \  pint  of  soup,  with  1  pound  of  pota^ 
13 


184  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 

* 

\*  The  Serving  of  the  Dmn&rt  at  Brixton. — We  were  preeent  at  the  Bemng  of  the  dinnerB 

in  this  eitablishmenty  which  were  dispensed  after  the  following  manner : — 

At  a  few  minutes  before  one  o'clock  the  ''breads"  are  counted  out  into  large  wicker  baskets, 
in  the  shape  of  those  used  for  dinner-plates,  while  the  tin  cans — ^which,  like  those  at  Penton- 
yiUe,  have  a  partition  in  the  middle,  similar  to  the  ones  carried  by  bill-stiokers — being  filled 
with  soup  and  meat  on  one  side,  and  potatoes  on  the  other,  are  ranged  in  laj^  potboy-like 
trays,  which  are  inscribed  with  the  letters  of  the  several  wards  to  which  they  appertain. 

Precisely  at  one  o'clock  a  bell  is  heard  to  ring,  and  then  the  matrons  of  the  old  prison 
enter  in  rotation,  each  accompanied  with  four  prisoners,  one  of  whom  seizes  one  tray,  while 
two  more  of  the  gang  go  off  with  another  thai  is  heavier  laden,  and  the  last  hurries  off  with 
the  basket  of  bread,  with  an  officer  at  her  heels. 

After  this,  large  trucks  are  brought  in,  and  when  stowed  with  the  trays  and  bread- 
baskets for  the  '^  wings,"  they  are  wheeled  off  by  the  attendant  prisoners,  one  woman 
drawling  in  front,  and  the  others  pushing  behind. 

We  followed  the  two  trucks  that  went  to  the  east  wing  of  the  prison,  and  here  we  found 
a  small  crowd  of  women  waiting,  with  the  matrons  at  the  door,  ready  to  receive  the  trays  as 
the  vehicles  were  unladen.  "  That's  ours !"  cried  one  of  the  female  officers  in  attendance ; 
and  immediately  the  prisoners  beside  her  seized  the  tray  with  the  basket  of  bread,  and  went 
off  with  it,  as  if  they  were  so  many  pot-girls  carrying  round  the  beer. 

Then  a  large  bell  clattered  through  the  building,  and  one  of  the  warders  screamed  at  the 
top  of  her  voice,  ''  0  Lord,  bless  this  food  to  our  use,  and  us  to  thy  service,  through  Jesua 
Christ  our  Lord.     Amen !" 

No  sooner  was  the  grace  ended,  than  the  officers  of  the  several  wards  went  along  the 
galleries,  opening  each  cell-door  by  the  way,  with  three  or  four  prisoners  in  their  wake, 
carrying  the  trays.  The  cell  being  opened,  the  matron  handed  in  the  bread  firom  the  basket 
which  one  of  the  prisoners  carried,  and  then  a  can  of  soup  from  the  tray,  the  door  being  closed 
again  immediately  afterwards,  so  that  the  arcade  rang  with  the  unlocking  and  slamming  of 
the  doors  in  the  several  galleries.  When  the  dinners  were  all  served,  the  cell-doon  were 
double  locked,  and  then  another  bell  rang  for  silence ;  after  which,  any  prisoner  talking,  we 
were  told,  would  be  reported  to  the  superintendent  for  breach  of  rules. 

The  distribution  of  the  dinners  was  at  once  rapid  and  orderly,  and  reflected  no  slight 
credit  upon  the  several  ladies  who  are  engaged  in  the  conduct  of  the  prison  for  the  almost 
military  precision  with  which  the  duty  was  carried  out. 

A  curious  part  of  the  process  consisted  in  the  distribution  of  the  knives  before  dinner, 
and  collection  of  them  afterwards.  Per  the  latter  purpose,  one  of  the  best-conducted 
prisoners  goes  round  with  a  box,  a  matron  following  in  her  steps,  and  then  the  knives, 
ready  cleaned,  arc  put  out  under  the  door.  These  are  all  counted,  and  locked  up  in 
store  for  the  next  day.  But  if  one  of  the  number  be  short,  the  prisoners  are  not  let  out  of 
their  cells  till  the  missing  knife  be  found,  each  convict  and  cell  being  separately  searched, 
with  a  view  to  its  discovery. 

During  the  dinner  hour  we  went  over  to  the  inflrmary  kitchen,  to  see  how  the  sick  pri- 

toes  and  6  ounces  of  bread — ^the  oonYaleaoenti  hAving  the  aame  as  the  labouren,  with  the  ezoeption  of  being 
served  with  mutton  instead  of  beef. 

For  supper,  on  the  other  hand,  the  labourers  and  oonvalesoenta  haye  eaoh  8  ounoes  of  bread  and  1 
pint  of  tea,  whilst  the  laundry- women  haye  all  1^  ounce  of  cheese  in  addition— the  ordinary  prison  diet  for 
the  same  meal  consisting  of  a  pint  of  gruel  and  8  oimces  of  bread  for  the  No.  3  women,  as  they  are  called  (t>., 
I^e  third-class  prisoners) ;  whilst  the  No.  2  women  get  the  same  allowance  of  gruel  and  bread  four  times  in 
the  week,  and  a  pint  of  tea  instead  of  gruel  three  times  in  the  week ;  and  the  No.  1  women  a  pint  of  tea 
every  night 

This  dietary  scale  is  very  nearly  the  same  as  that  at  FentonTille,  with  the  exception  that  the  pnmmea 
there  get  1  lb.  of  potatoes  instead  of  |  lb.,  as  at  Brixton. 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PMSON  AT  BBIXTON.  185 

■» 
Bonen  fiured  in  Biixton.  Here  we  found  the  cook  busily  Borving  out  a  small  piece  of  boiled 
cod  for  some  who  had  been  ordered  to  be  placed  on  fish  diet,  and  dishing  up  some  mutton 
chops  for  others.  Then  there  were  poached  eggs  for  a  few,  and  a  batter-pudding  and  some 
rice-milk  for  some  of  the  other  invalids ;  so  that  it  waa  plain  the  majority  of  the  poor 
croatoieB  fared  more  sumptuously  under  their  puuishment  than  they  possibly  could  have 
done  outside  the  prison  walls. 

%*  Exercising  nft  BrixUm. — ^The  airing  yards  at  this  prison  have  Httle  of  the  bare 
grsyel  school  play-ground  character,  so  common  with  those  at  the  other  jails,  for  here  there 
are  grasa-plotB  and  flower-beds,  so  that,  were  it  not  for  the  series  of  mad-house-like  windows 
piercing  the  prison  walls,  a  walk  in  the  exerdsing  grounds  of  Brixton  would  be  pleasant 
and  unprison-Iike  enough. 

The  prisoners  exercise  principally  for  one  hour — ^from  eight  till  nine;  the  laundry- 
women,  however,  whose  work  is  laborious,  walk  for  only  half  the  usual  time. 

It  is  a  somewhat  curious  and  interesting  sight  to  see  near  upon  two  hundred  female 
convicts  pacing  in  couples  round  and  round  the  Brixton  exercising  yards,  and  chattering  as 
they  go  like  a  large  school,  so  that  the  yard  positively  rings  as  if  it  were  a  market-place 
wilJi  the  gabbling  of  the  many  tongues ;  indeed,  the  sight  of  the  convicts,  filing  along  in 
couples,  reminds  one  of  the  charity  children  parading  through  the  streets,  for  the  prisoners 
are  dressed  in  the  same  plain  straw  bonnets,  and  not  only  have  a  like  cleanly  and  neat  look, 
but  aire  equally  remarkable  for  the  tidiness  of  their  shoes  and  stockings.     {See  engra/dng,) 

As  we  stood,  with  the  principal  matron  stiU  attending  us,  watching  the  prisoners  pace 
round  and  round,  like  a  cavalcade  at  a  circus,  while  the  warders  on  duty  cried,  ''  Hasten  on 
there,  women— hasten  on  !"  our  intelligent  and  communicative  guide  ran  over  to  us  the 
peculiarities  of  the  several  convicts  as  they  passed. 

«  Those  you  see  exercising  there,  in  the  inner  ring,  sir,''  she  said,  ^'are  the  invalids,  and 
we  let  them  walk  at  a  sbwer  pace.  This  one  coming  towards  us,"  she  whispered,  ''is  in  for 
li&,  ibr  tiie  murder  of  her  child.  You  wouldn't  think  it,  would  you,  sir,  to  look  at  her  ?" 
and  assuredly  there  was  no  trace  of  brutal  ferocity  in  her  countenance.  ''  Her  conduct  here 
has  been  always  excellent — she's  as  gentle  as  a  lamb ;  I  really  think  she's  sincerely  penitent." 

"  That  one  now  approaching  us,"  she  added,  ''  is  one  of  the  worst  tempered  girls  in  the 
whole  prison.    By  her  smile,  you  would  take  her  to  be  the  very  opposite  to  what  she  is." 

<' Yonder  woman,"  continued  the  matron,  ''is  one  of  the  best  we  have  here,  and  yet 
she's  in  for  biting  off  a  man's  ear;  but  the  man  had  been  trying  to  injure  her  very  much 
before  she  was  roused  to  it.  They  are  mostly  all  in  for  thieving,  and,  generally  speaking, 
they  have  led  the  most  abandoned  lives." 

The  truth  of  the  last  remark  was  evident  in  the  smiles  and  shamelessness  of  many;  for, 
as  they  paraded  past  us,  not  a  few  stared  in  our  face  with  all  the  brazen  look  of  the  streets, 
and  yet  many  of  their  coimtenanoes  were  almost  beautiful,  so  that  it  was  difficult  to  believe 
that  there  was  any  deep-rooted  evil  in  their  hearts. 

'<  It  is  curious,  sir,  the  vanity  of  many  of  these  women,"  whispered  our  intelligent  guide. 
"  Those  straw  bonnets  none  of  them  can  bear,  and  it  is  as  much  as  ever  we  can  do  to  make 
them  put  them  on  when  they  are  going  to  see  the  doctor.  They  think  they  look  much 
better  in  their  caps.  One  woman,  I  give  you  my  word^  took  the  ropes  off  her  hanmiock  and 
put  them  round  the  bottom  of  her  dress  so  as  to  make  the  skirt  seem  foller.  Another  we 
had  filled  her  gown  with  coals  round  the  bottom  for  the  same  object ;  and  others,  again, 
have  taken  the  wire  from,  roimd  the  dinner  cans  and  used  it  as  stiffners  to  their  stays. 
One  actually  took  the  tinfoil  from  under  the  buttons,  and  made  it  into  a  ring.  You 
would  hardly  believe  it,  perhaps,  but  I  have  known  women  scrape  the  walls  of  their  cells 
and  use  the  powder  of  the  whitewash  to  whiten  their  complexion.  Indeed,  there  is  hardly 
any  tridL  they  would  not  be  at  if  we  did  not  keep  a  sharp  eye  upon  them." 
13* 


186  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOBT. 

%*  The  Chapel  at  Brixton  PrUon, — ^The  little  chnicli  for  the  female  oonvicts  is  at  once 
simple  and  handsome  in  its  internal  decorationfi.  The  roof,  which  ie  of  oak,  bears  a  rode 
resemblance  to  that  of  Westminster  Hall,  ornamented  as  it  is  with  its  brown  ''  hammer- 
beams  "  and  ''  collar-beams;"  and  when  the  sittings  are  filled  with  the  oonyict-congr^ation, 
habited  in  their  dark  claret  gowns  and  dean  white  caps,  we  hardly  know  a  prettier  or  a  more 
touching  sight  in  the  world ;  for  the  suspicion  of  hypocrisy  that  lurks  in  the  mind,  despite 
the  apparent  feryour  of  the  prisoners  at  Pentonville,  serves  greatly  to  lessen  our  sympathy 
with  the  contrition  of  the  criminals  there.  We  all  know,  however,  that  women  are  naturally 
not  only  less  skilled  in  simulation  and  cunning,  but  of  a  more  religious  and  ardent  tempera- 
ment than  men,  so  that  we  no  sooner  hear  the  confessions  of  sin  and  supplications  for  mercy 
uttered  in  the  general  responses  of  these  wretched  unfortonates,  than  it  becomes  impossible 
to  withhold  our  commiseration,  or  to  refrain  from  adding  our  own  prayer  for  their  forgire- 
ness  to  the  one  common  cry. 

Moreover,  never  did  we  see  a  congregation  more  zealous  and  apparently  truthfol  in  their 
devotions,  for  though  we  ourselves  were,  with  the  exception  of  the  gate-keeper  and  the 
minister,  the  only  male  among  the  number  there  assembled,  and  a  stranger  to  the  place, 
nevertheless  our  presence  served  in  no  way  to  take  the  attention  of  the  women  fr^m  their 
books;  and  we  could  tell,  by  the  fixedness  of  their  gaze  upon  the  chaplain  during  his  dis- 
course, how  intent  they  all  were  upon  his  precepts  and  teachings. 

Nor  was  it  any  wonder,  to  those  who  had  previously  witnessed  the  feeling  which  existed 
between  the  minister  and  the  prisoners  at  Brixton,  ihsX  the  convicts  should  hang  upon  his 
every  word  as  children  listen,  in  purest  faith,  to  all  that  fbUs  from  a  father's  lips. 

We  had  gone  over  the  prison  in  company  with  the  chaplain  himself,  and  noted,  long 
before  the  service  commenced,  that  he  was  esteemed  as  a  kind  and  dear  friend  by  every 
one  of  the  wretched  inmates  there.  The  smile  in  each  countenance  as  he  passed,  the  sparkle 
in  every  eye,  and  the  confiding  look  of  all  into  his  face,  told  us  that  the  wretched  women 
dung,  in  their  sins,  to  him  who  was  their  protector  against  the  fury  of  the  world  without — 
even  as  the  adulterous  woman  sought  shdter  from  the  wrath  of  her  assailants  in  the  loving- 
kindness  of  Christ  himself. 

As  the  chaplain  accompanied  us  on  our  rounds,  we  soon  saw  that  his  was  no  mere  prth 
femon  of  Christian  duty,  and  that  those  he  had  imdertaken  to  watch  over  and  lead  into  now 
and  happier  paths  he  took  no  common  interest  in-i— beiog  acquainted  with  almost  all  the  mem- 
bers of  their  fEunily,  and  speaking  first  to  this  one  of  her  mother,  and  then  to  another  of 
her  son,  while  to  a  third  he  told  how  some  old  fellow-prisoner  whose  time  had  recently 
expired,  was  doing  well,  and  in  a  comfortable  situation  at  last 

Nor  was  it  only  the  chaplain  himself  who  was  thus  ftiendly  with  th^  inmates 
of  the  jail,  for  every  member  of  his  youthfrd  flvnily  was  equally  well  known,  and,  one  oould 
see  at  a  glance,  equally  beloved  by  them  all ;  the  young  people  had  evidently  made  them- 
selves acquainted  with  the  history  of  each  wretched  woman  under  their  father's  care,  and 
while  the  sons  displayed  no  little  interest  in  the  chaplain's  duty,  the  daughter  spoke  of  the 
poor  fallen  women  with  exquisite  tenderness,  and  delighted  to  recount  to  us  how  some  of 
the  convicts  had  been  reclaimed,  and  how  little  the  world  really  knew  of  the  trials  and 
temptations  of  such  characters.  Indeed,  we  never  met  with  a  finer  ai^d  nobler  instance 
of  Chrbtian  charity  than  we  here  found  practised  daily  by  this  most  righteous  and 
unassuming  family. 

%*  ^^BeporU^^  PunishmeniSf  and  JReJraetory  CeUs  at  Brisptcn. — ^We  requested  permission  of 
Mrs.  Martin,  the  superintendent,  to  be  present  during  her  examination  of  the  prisoners  who 
had  been  reported  for  misconduct.  The  superintendent  sat  at  her  desk,  in  the  prindpal  office 
of  the  argus  or  octagonal  house,  in  the  centre  of  the  prison  yard,  and  gftTO  drreotiQns  to  the 
matron  in  attendanqe  to  bring  in  the  first  prisoner  who  1^  been  reported, 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PRISON  AT  BRIXTON.  18T 

''Thisy"  said  tlie  superintendent  to  us,  awaiting  the  return  of  the  matron  with  the 
woman,  ''  is  a  case  of  quarreling  and  fighting  between  two  of  the  prisoners-^-a  charge  that, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  by  no  means  unusual  here." 

Presently  the  door  opened,  and  the  matron  brought  in  a  prisoner  whose  features  and 
complexion  were  those  of  a  Creole,  and  who  was  habited  in  the  blue  dress  of  the  laundry- 
women. 

"  How  is  it,  prisoner,"  inquired  the  lady  ^yemor,  *'  that  you  are  brought  here  again  ?" 

**  Well,  mum,"  repUed  the  woman,  as  she  shook  her  head  with  considerable  emotion, 
and  drew  near  to  the  table  of  the  superintendent,  **1  couldn't  stand  it  no  longer !  She  offered 
to  strike  me  three  times  afore  erer  I  touched  a  hair  of  her  head — ^that  she  did,  mum ;  and 
as  my  liberty  hadn't  come,  you  know,  mum — ^"  and  the  half-caste  was  about  to  enter  into  a 
kng  explanation  on  the  latter  part  of  the  subject,  when  she  was  stopped  by  the  lady 
saying,  "  Yes,  I  know ;  and  I  make  great  allowance  for  you." 

"  I  was  sure  you  would,  mxmi,"  briskly  replied  the  woman ;  "  she  called  me  a ." 

"  Oh,  dear  me ! — ^there,  I  don't  want  to  hear  what  was  said,"  again  interrupted  the 
superintendent.  **  Well,  I  shall  not  pimish  you  until  I  have  looked  into  the  affisdr ;  so  you 
may  go  back  to  your  work." 

"  Thank  you,  mxmi,"  and  the  prisoner  curtseyed,  as  she  left  the  room  with  the  matron ; 
whereupon,  immediately  afterwards,  another  conyict  was  ushered  in. 

«  You  have  been  behaving  very  iU^  I  hear,"  said  the  superintendent. 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  was  the  prisoner's  reply;  ''but  I'm  a  woman  as  doesn't  like 
quaneling." 

**  There,  don't  say  that ;  for  I  hare  your  name  down  here  rather  often ! "  returned 
the  superintendent ;  "  besides,  my  officer  teUs  me  that  you  were  at  fisiult,  so  I  shall  punish 
you  by  stopping  your  dinner." 

**  These  are  aU  the  refractory  cases,"  said  the  female  officer,  as  the  prisoner  curtseyed 
and  left  the  room ;  ''but  there  are  three  women  who  wish  to  speak  with  you,  ma'am." 

"  Yery  weU,  bring  them  in,"  said  the  superintendent. 

The  first  of  these  was  a  young  Scotch  girl,  who  said  that  she  came  about  her  letters, 
and  that  she  hadn't  got  her  letters,  though  her  mother  had  written  her  several  letters, 
but  that  all  her  letters  had  been  kept  back.  Whereupon  the  superintendent  explained  to 
her  that  she  was  only  allowed  to  receive  and  write  one  every  two  months ;  and  on  the 
female  derk  being  consulted  as  to  the  number  the  girl  had  received,  the  answer  returned 
was  that  she  had  been  permitted  to  have  three  within  the  stated  time ;  so  the  prisoner  left 
ihe  room  muttering  that  the  letters  were  from  her  mother,  and  that  she  wanted  her  letters, 
and  no  one  had  a  right  to  keep  back  her  letters. 

"That  girl,"  said  the  superintendent,  " has  got  ten  years,  and  is  very  irritable  under  it ; 
Indeed,  I  often  think  the  women  make  up  the  cases  for  the  sake  of  coming  here  and  getting 
a  little  variety  to  their  life." 

The  second  prisoner  seeking  an  interview  with  the  superintendent,  was  likewise  a  Scotch 
woman,  and  she  also  came  to  speak  about  her  letters.  "  You  gave  me  permission^  mum,  to 
write  to  my  son,"  said  the  convict;  "he's  come  home  firom  Balaklava,  and  gone  to  Bombay 
since."  "  Well,"  was  the  answer,  "  if  I  did,  you  must  leave  the  letter  here  and  I  will  see 
about  sending  it  for  you."  "  Bless  you,  mum !"  said  the  old  woman,  as  she  hobbled,  with 
repeated  curtoeys,  out  of  the  room. 

The  last  woman  seeking  an  interview  was  one  who  came  to  know  about  being  recom- 
mended for  her  ticket-of-leave.  "  The  women  that  got  their  badges  at  the  same  time  as  me 
has  bad  their  liberty  already,  please  mum,"  urged  the  prisoner.  Whereupon  the  superin- 
tendent asked  the  woman  whom  she  had  got  to  receive  her  when  she  was  let  out.  "  My 
nster,"  was  the  answer.  "  And  how  do  you  mean  to  support  yourself?"  "  Oh,  please 
mum,  my  sister  says  she'll  get  me  into  service,"  replied  the  prisoner,  curtseying.      "I 


188  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

hope  yon  will  do  well,"  was  the  kind-hearted  exclamation  of  the  superintendent ;  ''  and  your 
recommendatiim  shall  be  sent  up  next  time." 

'<  Is  that  all,  Miss  Donnelly?"  the  lady-goyemor  asked,  as  the  prisoner  retired  thanking 
her ;  and  being  informed  that  she  had  seen  all  the  applicants,  the  female  officer  was  dismissed. 

"  We  have  sent  away  altogether  upwards  of  200  women  on  tidcet-of-leaye,  and  only 
4  have  come  back,"  said  the  lady,  in  answer  to  a  question  from  us,  "  and  even  with 
those  four  we  can  hardly  beUere  them  to  be  guilty ;  the  police  are  so  sharp  with  the  poor 
things.  When  they  ore  brought  back  to  me  here,  the  women  feel  dreadfully  ashamed  of 
themselves,  and  one  was  the  very  picture  of  despair.  She's  the  mother  of  twins,  and  hafi 
attempted  her  life  several  times  since.  The  police  are  very  severe  with  them,  I  think ;  and 
I  can't  help  feeling  an  interest  in  the  wretched  creatures,  just  as  if  they  were  children  of 
my  own.  Last  night  I  was  obliged  to  order  handoufb  to  be  put  on  the  ticket-of-leave  woman 
who  has  just  been  sent  back  to  us ;  she  had  conunenced  breaking  her  windows,  and  threatened 
to  assault  her  officer.  This  re-commitment  has  made  her  quite  different,  and  I  think  the 
state  of  her  mind  is  very  doubtful  now:  When  I  first  came  here,"  continued  the  lady,  "I'm 
sure  it  was  like  living  in  another  planet.  As  a  clergyman's  wife,  I  used  to  see  aU  kinds 
of  people  of  course,  but  never  any  like  these.  Oh,  they  are  most  peculiar !  There  are 
many  of  them  subject  to  fits  of  the  most  ungovernable  fury ;  very  often  th^re  is  no  cause 
at  all  for  their  passion  except  their  own  morbid  spirits ;  perhaps  their  Mends  haven't 
written,  so  they'll  sit  and  work  themselves  up  into  a  state  of  almost  frenzy,  and  when 
the  officer  comes  they  will  give  way.  Sometimes  they  know  when  the  fit  is  coming  on,  and 
will  themselves  ask  to  be  locked  up  in  the  refructory  wards. 

''  When  they  are  in  these  fits  they're  terribly  violent  indeed,"  the  superintendent 
went  on ;  "  they  tear  up  and  break  everything  they  can  lay  their  hands  on.  The  other  day 
one  of  the  prisoners  not  only  broke  all  the  windows  in  her  cell,  but  tore  all  her  bed-clothes 
into  ribbons,  and  pulled  open  her  bed  and  tossed  all  the  coir  in  a  heap  on  the  floor; 
and  then  she  wrenched  off  the  gas-jet,  and  so  managed  to  pull  down  the  triangular  iron 
shelf  that  is  fixed  into  the  wall  at  one  comer  of  the  cell.  When  the  prisoners  work 
themselves  up  to  such  a  state  as  that,  we're  generally  obliged  to  call  the  male  officers 
to  them.  The  younger  they  are  the  worse  they  behave.  The  most  violent  age,  I  think, 
is  from  seventeen  to  two  or  three  and  twenty — ^indeed,  they  are  like  fiends  at  that  age 
very  often:  But,  really,  I  can  hardly  speak  with  certainty  on  the  matter,  the  life  is  so 
new  to  me.  Often,  when  the  prisoners  have  behaved  very  badly  in  one  prison,  they'll 
be  quite  different  on  going  to  another ;  a  fr^sh  place  gives  ^em  an  opportunity  of  turning 
over  a  new  leaf,  I  fancy.  Oh,  yes !  I  find  them  very  sensitive  to  family  ties,  and  Fm 
often  touched  myself  to  think  such  wicked  creatures  should  have  such  tender  feelings. 
The  son  of  that  old  Scotch  woman  you  saw  here  writes  her  the  most  beautiful  letters, 
and  sends  her  all  the  money  he  can  scrape  together.  Generally  speaking,  they  have  most 
of  them  been  previously  convicted,  and  more  than  once;  often,  too,  the  very  worst  outside 
are  the  best  behaved  in  the  prison — ^that  makes  it  so  difficult  to  get  situations  for  them." 

Afterwards,  in  the  course  of  an  interview  with  the  medical  officer,  we  sought  to  ascer- 
tain whether  any  physical  cause  could  be  assigned  for  these  sudden  and  violent  outbursts 
among  the  women.  The  surgeon  informed  us  that  he  knew  of  no  bodily  or  organio  reason 
to  account  for  them ;  four  per  cent,  of  the  whole  of  the  prisoners,  or  20  in  600  were  subject 
to  such  fits  of  violent  passion,  and  these  were  almost  invariably  from  fifteen  to  twenty-five 
years  of  age.  The  elder  women  were  equally  bad  in  nature — ^perhaps  worse — ^but  they  did 
not  break  the  prison  rules  like  the  younger  ones.  ''  Women,  even  in  their  most  fiuious 
moments,"  he  told  us,  "  seldom  injure  themselves  or  those  around  them,  though  they  will 
break  their  windows,  and  even  occasionally  tear  their  own  clothing  to  ribbons." 

On  a  subsequent  occasion  we  spoke  of  these  ungovernable  bTirsts  of  violence  to  a  lady 
friend  of  our&— one  who  was  really  of  an  exceeding  gentle  nature;  and  she  frankly  confeesed 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PRISON  AT  BRIXTON.  189 

that  she  could  undentand  &e  luzory  of  BmaRhiTig  things  in  an  overwhehning  fit  of  temper. 
"  YoTL  men/'  aha  said,  as  she  saw  tis  smile  at  her  oandonr,  ''  are  stronger  than  we,  and 
theiefore  yon  vent  your  passions  upon  the  people  about  you ;  but  women  cannot  do  this 
from  their  yery  weakness,  and  so  those  poor  ignorant  things  who  hare  never  learnt  self- 
control  expend  their  fory  npon  the  tables,  chairs,  and  glasses,  that  are  unable  to  torn  upon 
them-«-6ven  as  some  husbands  yent  their  passion  on  their  wives,  who  are  incapable  of  defending 
themsolTes  against  them. 

**  Temper,"  she  added,  '^  is  always  cowardly,  and  wreaks  itself  only  upon  such  things  as 
itfaacieeit  can  master." 

At  another  part  of  the  day  we  inspected  the  refiractoiry  cells,  which  are  situate  in  the  old 
prison*  These  are  six  in  number,  and  not  quite  dark,  the  screen  before  the  windows  being 
pieieed  with  holes ;  for  on  entering  one,  and  requesting  that  the  double  doors  might  be 
dosed  upon  us,  we  found  we  could  see  to  write  after  a  few  moments,  when  the  eye  had 
grown  aocostomed  to  the  darkness ;  and  it  was  curious  to  watch  how  each  part  of  the  cell 
that  was  invisible  at  first  started  into  sight  after  a  few  minutes.  Then  we  could  see  that 
there  was  the  same  rude  wooden  couch,  with  the  sloping  head-piece,  on  the  floor  as  in  others, 
and  a  large  air-hole,  fix>m  12ie  passage  near  the  ceiling,  for  the  ventilation  of  the  cell. 

There  were  also  the  '^hoppered  cells,"  where  those  women  are  put  who  are  accustomed 
to  break  the  windows,  or  to  speak  or  look  out  of  them — ^the  hopper  being  a  slanting  iron 
screen  in  front  of  the  casement,  so  called  from  its  resemblance  to  that  wedge-shaped 
trough  in  a  miU  into  which  the  com  is  put  to  be  ground*  Six  of  these  cells  were  without 
glass  and  six  with,  whilst  one  was  constructed  upon  a  new  plan,  and  had  a  perforated  zinc 
screen  to  prevent  the  women  smashing  the  windows. 

**  The  punishments,"  says  the  Brixton  chaplain,  in  his  report  for  1854,  ''  are  apparently 
numerous ;  but  a  car^dl  inspection  of  the  misconduct-book  will  prove  that  m>H  of  them  have 
been  inflicted  upon  the  tame  persons,  and  that  the  great  body  of  the  prisoners  has  not  been 
sabjected  to  any  punishment  at  aU.  Yiolence  of  temper  is  one  great  evil  with  female 
prisoners :  they  are  so  easily  excited,  and  so  subject  to  sudden  impulses,  that  it  is  very  painful 
to  cansider  what  misery  they  bring  upon  themselves,  owing  to  the  influence  of  bad  temper."* 


%*  ns  Cmotet  Nwrufry  at  Brwton. — ^The  most  touching  portion  of  the  female  convict 
prison,  and  what  distinguishes  it  essentially  from  all  the  penal  institutions  appropriated  to 
male  prisoners,  is  that  which  forms  the  heading  of  the  present  portion  of  our  description 
of  the  internal  economy  of  the  Brixton  establishment. 

To  those  who  know  the  early  life  and  education  of  the  habitual  criminal — who  know  how, 
in  many  cases,  he  was  bom  among  thieves,  reared  and  schooled  among  thieves,  and  thieves 
only — how  he  was  begotten,  perhaps,  by  a  convict  frither,  and  nursed  by  a  felon  mother,  and 

*  The  ibUoviDg  list  is  extracted  from  the  laet  pabliBhed  Bepoit  of  the  Dtreotors  of  GonTiot  Prieons  :~ 

BSrUBN  OF  PTTNISHlfBKTB  AT  THB  FEXALB  OONYIOT  FBXBOK,   1854. 

InHflBdcuffii 31  Confined  to  Cell 34 

Ckniflht  WaistooAt 1  Withdrawn  from  Asaociation       ...  70 

p^f     ,       Cell   i  ^^  Bationa  -        -        -  141  Beprimanded     ------  257 

"^^^^           (Bread  and  Water     -       -  147  Admoniahed 171 

On  Bread  and  Water  Diet  -        -        -        .  92  Not  pnniahed  on  Special  Grounda        -        -  19 

Deprived  of  One  Meal  or  Part  of  a  Meal       -    246  

Total       -       -  1209 

By  the  abore  table  it  will  be  aeen  that  the  moat  frequent  pnniahment  resorted  to  was  confinement  in  the 
refinaekory  ceQ,  of  which  there  were  288  caaea  in  the  conrae  of  the  year.  That  the  next  pnniahment  in  the 
order  of  fireqnency  was  a  aimple  reprimand,  of  which  there  were  257  cases,  whilst  the  chastisement,  of 
which  the  number  of  cases  stood  next  in  the  list,  was  the  deprivation  of  a  meal,  or  part  of  a  meal,  and  of 
wliidi  there  were  246  instances.  The  more  serious  impositions,  such  as  handcuffa  and  straight  waistcoat, 
wsre  oon^pantiTely  limited. 


190  THE  GREAT  WOBU)  OF  LONDON. 

trained,  too,  at  tlie  eai*]iest  age  to  dishonedt  practiced  by  light-fingered  tutors,  as  regularly 
as  out  children  are  disciplined  into  yirtnons  courses^-how  he  was  taught  by  his  companions 
in  crime  to  look  upon  the  greatest  ruffian  as  the  greatest  hero ;  and  how  with  the  Tagabond 
and  wayward  class,  from  whom  his  paradoxical  morals  hare  been  derived,  the  plundering  of 
the  industriotis  portion  of  society  is  regarded  as  a  part  of  yirtue,  if  not  religion — (for  the 
gipsy  says  to  her  child,  "  And  now,  having  said  your  prayers,  go  out  and  steal,"  even  as 
the  Thng  offers  up  his  worship  to  Kalee,  before  startmg  to  ensnare  and  murder  his  victim) — 
and  how,  moreover,  your  true  hereditary  criminal  has  learnt  from  his  earliest  childhood  to 
admire  and  approve  of  only  feats  of  low  cunning,  and  that  brute  courage,  which  his  class 
terms  ''pluck;''  and  to  believe  that  to  **do  your  neighbour,  as  your  neighbour  would  do 
you,"  constitutes  the  real  mrnmum  hamtm  of  life ;  he,  we  repeat,  who  knows  this,  and  who 
knows,  moreover,  that  there  are  distinct  races  of  outcasts  and  wanderers,  moved  by  the  very 
opposite  philosophy  and  principles  to  that  which  we  and  our  children  have,  as  Christians, 
been  taught  to  revere,  must  surely  feel,  that  had  it  been  his  lot  to  have  be^i  bom  and  bred 
among  such  tribes,  his  own  conscience  would,  most  probably,  have  been  as  warped  and 
tainted  as  that  of  those  he  has  learnt  to  condemn,  if  not  to  loathe ;  and  feeling  this,  the 
first  great  lesson  of  toleration,  viz.,  that  even  his  own  individual  exemption  from  jail  is 
due  rather  to  the  accident  of  his  birth  and  parentage,  than  to  any  special  merit  on  his  part, 
he  cannot  but  in  his  heart  get  to  pity  the  poor  wretches  who  have  been  less  lucky  in  the 
lottery  of  life  than  he. 

But  this  is  mere  sentimentality,  the  sterner  reader  will  perhaps  exclaim'-^maudling 
philanthropy,  that  comes  of  the  prevailing  morbid  desire  to  cuddle  and  caress  creatures  whom 
we,  in  our  honest  indignation,  should  shun  and  despise.  Those  who  think  thus,  we  answer, 
should  visit  Brixton  prison,  and  see  the  little  babes  there,  clinging  to  their  convict  mothers' 
skirts,  or  playing  with  their  rag-dolls  in  the  convict  nursery ;  and  then  ask  themselves  what 
fiftte  they  think  can  await  the  wretched  little  things  that  have  made  so  bad  a  start  in  the  great 
race  of  life.  Will  not  the  goal  they  are  destined  probably  to  reach  have  the  vowels  trans- 
posed, and  be  written  yoo/  instead  ? — for  even  though  now  they  be,  as  the  Qreat  Teacher 
said,  '*  types  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  and  with  an  almost  angel^innocenoe  beaming  in  their 
pretty  Uttle  cherub  &ces,  is  it  not  most  likely  that,  in  after  life,  those  who  drew  their  first 
brealh  inside  the  prison  walls  will  come  to  breathe  their  last  gasp  there  also  ?  Is  this  so- 
called  Christian  country  sufficiently  enlightened  and  charitable  yet,  think  you,  to  allow  such 
as  they  the  same  chance  of  success  in  the  world  as  honest  men's  children  ?  Will  they  meet 
with  no  gibes  in  years  to  come,  for  their  felon  extraction  ?  Would  you,  reader,  like  to  take 
them  into  your  household  and  your  family,  when  they  grow  np,  to  tend  your  own  little  ones  ? 
And  if  all  the  arrogant  prejudices  of  society  be  at  war  with  their  advancement,  think  you 
they  will  live  at  peace  with  the  rest  of  mankind ;  or  that  they  can  possibly  find  in  after  life 
that  honesty  is  the  best  policy,  when  almost  every  one  is  prepared  to  deny  them  the 
privilege  of  labouring  for  their  livelihood—- or,  in  other  words,  the  veiy  means  of  practising 
the  virtue  ? 

''  This,"  said  our  attendant,  as  we  entered  the  pathetic  place,  while  the  matron  led  the 
first  babe  she  met  towards  us,  "  is  little  Eliza ;  she  was  bom  in  the  jail  at  York,  and  is 
rather  better  than  two  years  old." 

The  tiny  creature  hung  its  head,  and  struggled  to  get  back  to  its  mother,  as  we  stooped 
down  and  held  our  hand  out  towards  it ;  but  the  little  thing  had  long  been  accustomed  to  see  no 
man's  face  but  that  of  the  chaplain  and  the  sui^geon,  so  it  screamed  to  get  farther  from  us,  the 
nearer  we  drew  towards  it.  She  was  a  pretty  gray-eyed  child,  and  dressed  the  same  as  the 
other  infants  in  the  room,  in  a  spotted  blue  frock — tho  eofwtot  hahif'^thes.  The  mother  of 
this  one  was  the  wife  of  a  labouring  man,  and  condemned  to  five  years'  imprisonment. 

With  the  tears  stingiog  our  eyes,  we  passed  on  to  the  next  little  innocent — innocent  for 
how  long?    She  was  called  Jeanie,  and  was  nearly  two  years  and  a  half  old ;  ehe  had  been 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PMSON  AT  BElXTON.  IM 

bom  in  Glasgow  prison;  the  mother  was  nmnamed,  and  sentenced  to  four  years'  penal  ser- 
Titiide. 

Little  Sarah,  the  next  we  tamed  to,  was  a  poor,  white-£BU)ed  infant,  that  had  been  bom 
in  Brixton  prison  itself  seven  months  ago,  and  was  sicldj  with  its  teething.  The  mother  had 
to  suffer  fonr  years'  penal  servitude,  and  was  married  to  a  private  in  the  Fusilier  Guards,  but 
had  not  heard  from  him  since  her  eouTietion. 

The  next  babe  was  younger  still,  haTing  been  bom  in  Brixton  on  the  7th  of  Febmaay 
last  This  was  a  boy,  and  named  Thomas.  The  mother  was  unmarried,  and  had  four  years' 
penal  servitude  to  undergo. 

Martha  was  the  name  of  the  next  convict  child ;  and  she  was  a  fair-haired,  fresh-cheeked, 
pretty  little  thing,  rather  more  than  two  years  old,  and  asleep  in  the  prison  bed. 

"  That  is  the  moat  timid  child  I  ever  met  with,"  said  the  kind-hearted  matron,  who 
aooompanied  us  throughout  the  day.  "  She  was  bom  in  Lincoln  Castle,  and  the  mother-^ 
C  She's  unmarried,  sir,"  whispered  Hie  officer,  apart,  to  us,  as  we  jotted  down  the  facts  in 
our  note-book) — ^has  ten  years'  transportation,  and  more  than  seven  years  still  to  serve." 

''Ah !  %M%  a  sad  romp,"  said  our  attendant,  as  we  passed  on  to  another  child — ^Annie, 
she  was  called.  She  was  tfttteriu^  along,  as  she  held  her  mother's  finger.  "  She's  two 
years  and  three  masths  on  the  21st  «f  May,  sir,"  said  like  mother,  in  answer  to  our 
question,  ''and  was  bona  m  Lewes  jail.  Fve  got  six  years'  penal  servitude."  Poor 
Annie!  we  inwardly  excUdmed;  for  she  was  a  dean,  flaxen-haired,  laughing  little  thing, 
that  smiled  as  she  looked  up  into  our  face.  "  ]!^ot  married ! "  added  the  wretched  mother, 
timidly. 

At  this  moment  the  ehaplain  entered,  when  several  of  the  Httle  things  toddled  off  towards 
the  good  man,  and  he  raised  them  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  them  one  after  another.  "  Oh !  I 
■aw  Tommy's  mother,  the  other  day,"  said  he  to  one  of  the  women,  in  reference  to  an  old 
prisoner  who  had  obtained  her  liberty.  "  She's  been  doing  very  nicely.  Tommy's  been  rather 
poorly,  though.    I  hope  I  shall  be  able  to  get  her  another  situation." 

"  There,  you  see,"  said  the  minister,  turning  to  us,  and  pointing  to  the  tins  on  an 
adjacent  table,  "is  the  nursery  breakfast.  There's  a  pint  of  TnilV  for  each  child,  and  tea  for 
the  mothers." 

As  we  left,  the  matron  whispered  to  us  that  the  pictures  for  the  children,  hanging  u^ 
against  the  wall,  were  given  by  the  cleigyman.  And  when  we  returned  to  the  nursery,  latCT 
in  the  day,  we  found  the  mothers  at  work  at  some  new  frocks  that  the  chaplain's  daughter 
had  presented  to  the  poor  little  things. 

"  There's  one  apiece  all  round,  baby  and  all,"  said  the  matron,  as  she  held  up  a  tiny  frock 
that  was  finished,  by  the  little  short  sleeves.  It  was  a  neat  chintz  pattern,  that  was  at  once 
serviceable  and  pretty.     "  They'd  only  those  white-spotted  blue  things  before,  sir." 

At  another  part  of  the  day  we  spoke  with  the  chaplain  himself  concerning  the  prison 
T^nlations  upon  such  matters,  and  'Qien  he  told  us  that  at  one  time  there  had  been  as  many 
as  thirty  children  in  that  establishment ;  but  lately  the  Secretary  of  State  had  issued  an  order 
forbidding  them  to  receive  children  from  other  prisons.  "  If  the  child  be  bom  here  it  is  to 
stay  with  the  mother — how  long  I  cannot  say,"  added  the  minister,  "  but  if  bom  in  jail 
before?  the  mother  comes  here,  it  is  to  be  sent  to  the  Union  immediately  she  is  ordered  to  be 
removed  to  this  prison.  We  never  had  a  child  older  than  four  years,  but  at  MiUbank 
one  little  thing  had  been  kept  so  long  incarcerated,  that  on  going  out  of  the  prison  it  called 
a  horse  a  cat.  The  little  girl  that  we  had  here  of  four  years  of  age,  my  children  used  to 
take  to  the  Sunday  school,  so  that  she  might  mix  a  little  with  the  world,  for  she  used  to 
exclaim,  when  she  was  taken  out  into  the  road  and  saw  a  horse  go  by,  '  look  at  that  great 
big  doggie.'" 

There  is,  indeed,  no  place  in  which  there  is  so  much  toleration,  and  trae  wisdom,  if  not 
goodness,  to  be  leamt,  as  in  the  convict  nursery  at  Biixton ! 


THE  OBSAT  WOBLD  OF  LOmXiS. 


TABH^OdBB  AT  THE  BRIXTON  PBISON. 

%*  T^  Ddwary  of  iht  Prtum  Letttrt. — ^A  letter,  at  all  tiines,  is  mora  higUy  prized  by 
uromen  than  men.  The  reason  is  obvious.  The  letters  addressed  to  males  are  more  frequently 
upon  pnrely  busineea  matters,  so  tliat  after  a  time  the  sight  of  moh  docmnents  conjures  ap 
no  pleasant  association  in  men's  minds;  'whereas  the  lettera  of  females  ara,  generally,  bo 
inlimatoly  connected  with  matters  of  pleasura,  and  bo  often  with  the  oatpooringa  of  affec- 
tion from  friends  or  islationB,  that  the  reiy  sight  of  an  envelope  bearing  their  name  and 
address  is  snfflolent  to  exoit«  In  tliem  not  only  flie  moat  lively  emotions,  but  the  most 
intense  cnriority. 

Tovards  the  evening  of  tiie  day  cS  our  vimt  to  Brixton  prison,  the  chaplain's  clerk  (who, 
be  it  observed,  was  no  serious -locking  gentleman  in  dingy  black,  but  an  intelligent  and 
pleasant-looking  young  woman,  who,  in  the  female  prison,  combines  with  the  clerk's 
du^  tlie  equally  male  office  of  g^ieral  postman)  came  towards  us  with  a  bundle  of  letters, 
and  asked  us  whether  we  would  like  to  accompany  her  on  her  rounds.  "It's  one  of  the 
pleasantest  duties,  sir,  that  we  have  te  perform  hera,"  sold  the  considerate  post-woman ; 
"  and  no  one  knows  but  ourselves  how  the  poor  prisoners  look  forward  to  the  arrival 
of  their  letters.  Say  after  day  th^'U  ask  me  to  be  sure  and  bring  them  one  soon,  as  if  I 
oould  make  them  quicker." 

ITe  told  the  ol^k,  as  we  walked  along  with  her  towards  one  of  the  wings,  that  we  had 
that  nLoming  had  evidence  as  to  the  anxiely  the  prisoners  felt  about  receiving  letters  frmn  their 
friends.  "  Ah,  tiut  they  do,"  she  returned ;  "  and  if  the  letter  doesn't  come  just  when  the 
time  is  due  for  getting  it,  they'll  sit  and  mope  over  it  day  after  day,  and  work  themselves 
up  at  last  into  such  a  violent  fiiry,  that  they'll  break  and  tear  up  everything  about  them." 


THE  FEMALE  CONVICT  PBISON  AT  BRIXTON. 


U0HU4O-SOO11  At  THB  BBUTOM  rBlBUM. 

By  tbifl  time  we  had  roaohed  Qa  cell  in  the  weet  wing,  to  vHch  Hie  fl^st  letter  irsa 
addreaaed.  The  Tomen  vera  locked  np  in  their  cells  daring  tea-time,  and  the  derli:,  pladiig 
her  montli  cslon  against  ths  door,  called  tiie  name  of  tiie  priaoner  located  vitiiiq. 

"  Yes,  mnm,"  was  the  anaver  that  came  from  the  cdl. 

"  Hore'a  a  letter  for  yoo,"  added  Ihe  ole^,  aa  ahe  stooped  doi*^  qnd  threw  tiie  doca- 
ment  under  the  door<  In  a  moment  after  there  was  a  positive  aoream  of  delight  within, 
liidlowed  by  a  cry  of  "  Oh  1  how  glad  I  am."  Thpi  we  opnld  hear  the  poor  oreatnre  te«r 
open  the  sheet,  and  bc^iin  mumbling  the  oontraits  to  heraelf  in  half  hysteric  tones. 

The  dark  had  hurried  on  her  rounds,  while  we  stood  listening  by  the  door,  and  she 
moained  waiting  for  us  ontaide  the  cell  of  ttie  next  prisoner  on  her  list  "  Sheridan,"  she 
whispered.  "  Yes,  mum,"  was  the  rwpid  reply,  as  if  the  inmate  of  the  oeU  recognised  Qie 
weloame  rcnce,  and  anticipated  what  was  coming.  Then  the  letter  was  slid  under  the 
doorway,  as  befbre,  and  this  was  followed  by  a  simple  exclamation  of  "  Oh !  tliank  you, 

"  The  last  prisoner,"  said  the  derk,  as  she  now  hastened  off  towards  the  laundry,  "has  mora 
friends  in  the  world  than  the  other,  and  that  is  why  she  rec^ved  h&  letter  so  differentiy." 
In  the  laundry,  the  prisoner  to  whom  the  letter  was  giyen  smiled  gratefully  in  the  clerk's 
&oe,  aa  die  dirast  it  into  her  bosom.  "  Can  yon  read  it  ?"  inquired  the  letter-carrier,  who 
■eemed  almost  aa  delighted  aa  the  prisoner  herself.  "Oh,  yea,  mum,  thank  you,"  replied 
the  woman;  and  ihe  l{urried  to  tlie  oUier  end  of  the  wash-house,  to  enjoy  its  ocmtenta  qnieUy 
byhenelt 

Then  three  more  letters  were  delivered,  one  to  a  piisimer  in  tiie  kitchen,  an^  tl>e  others 


194  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  lOITDOK. 

to  women  in  the  •est  wing.    After  that,  we  followed  the  clerk  acrosB  the  yard  to  the 
infirmary,  where  the  last  letter  was  given  to  the  head-nurse. 

**  I  ne7or  deliver  the  letters  myself  here,"  added  the  thoughtM  and  tender-hearted  clerk, 
*'  because  I  don't  know  the  state  of  health  the  prisoners  may  be  in,  and  I'm  afraid  of 
exciting  them  too  much." 

As  a  further  example  of  the  store  set  by  the  female  prisoners  x^n  the  letters  they 
receive  from  their  relatiyes  and  friends,  we  may  mention  that  there  is  hardly  a  cell  that  is 
not  frimished  with  some  fancy  letter-bag,  worked  by  the  prisoner,  in  the  form  of  a  large 
watch-pocket;  and  we  were  assured  that  the  documents  treasured  in  such  bags  are 
prized  as  highly  as  if  they  were  so  much  bank-paper,  and  that  in  the  moments  of  sadness 
which  overcome  prisoners,  they  were  invariably  withdrawn  and  read — perhaps  for  the 
hundredth  time — as  the  only  consolation  left  them  in  their  friendlessness  and  affliction. 

%*  Female  Chrmct  LdlHmr  at  Brixbon. — ^The  work  done  by  the  women  prisoners  is, 
of  course,  of  a  different  character  to  that  performed  either  at  Pentonville  or  the  hulks. 
The  tailoring  at  the  former  establishment  gives  place  to  the  more  appropriate  shirt-making, 
hemming  flannels,  and  stitching  stays,  &c. ;  while  the  hard  labour  of  the  prisoners  woridng 
in  the  arsenal  and  dockyard  is  here  replaced  by  the  more  feminine  occupation  of  tiie 
laxmdry.* 

The  laundry  at  the  Brixton  prison  is  no  mean  establishment.  Here  the  majority  of 
the  women  whom  we  have  before  met  in  our  rounds,  habited  in  their  light-blue  checked 
over-dresses,  are  found,  standing  on  wooden  gratings,  washing  away  at  the  wooden  troughs 
ranged  roimd  the  spacious  wash-house  which  forms  the  lower  part  of  the  building.  Here 
some,  with  their  bare  red  arms,  are  working  the  soddened  flannels  against  a  wooden  grooved 
board  that  is  used  to  save  the  rubbing  of  the  elothes,  while  the  tops  of  the  troughs  are 
white  and  iridescent  with  the  clouds  of  suds  within  them.  Two  women  in  the  centre  are 
turning  the  handles  of  the  wringing  machine  that,  as  the  box  in  which  the  wet  clothes  are 
placed  fspuR  round  and  round,  drains  the  newly-washed  linen  of  its  moisture  by  the  mere 
action  of  the  centrifugal  force.  In  one  part  is  a  large  wooden  boiler  heated  by  steam,  and 
scattered  about  the  place  are  tubs  ^lU  of  brown  wet  sheets,  large  baskets  of  blankets,  and 
piles  of  tripey-looking  flannels ;  whilst  a  dense  white  mist  of  steam  pervades  the  entire 
atmosphere,  and  the  floors  are  as  wet  and  sloppy  as  the  streets  of  a  Dutch  town  on  a  Friday. 

From  the  wash-house  we  ascended  to  the  drying-rooms  over-head,  and  here  one  of  the 
doors  of  what  seemed  to  be  a  huge  press  was  thrown  open,  and  an  immense  clothes' -horse 
drawn  out,  with  rows  of  unbleached  toweb  and  blankets  across  its  rails,  while  the  blast  of 
hot  air  that  rushed  forth  was  even  more  unpleasant  than  the  dampness  of  the  atmosphere 
below.    Hence  we  passed  into  the  ironing-room,  and  as  we  approached  the  place,  we  knew 

*  It  IB  at  Brixton  that  aU  the  dothei  are  washed  for  the  850  and  odd  priaonera  ocmflned  at  PentonviUe, 
and  the  820  in  Millbank,  as  well  as  the  linen  of  the  688  conTiota  in  Brixton  prison  itself ;  so  that  altogether 
the  women  in  the  laundry  have  to  supply  clean  olothing  eyerf  week  for  some  1800  persons.  Hence,  we  are 
barely  surprised,  when  we  read  in  the  return  of  the  work  done,  that  there  were  more  than  half  a  milHon 
pieoes  washed  at  Brixton  in  the  course  of  the  year  1854.  Besides  this,  we  find  the  prisoners  made  up  during 
the  same  time  more  than  20,000  shirts,  and  nearly  10,000  flannel  drawers  and  waistcoats,  1,200  shifts,  8,500 
petticoats,. 5,700  sheets,  2,000  caps,  8,700  pocket-handkerohieft,  2,800  aprons,  2,800  neckerohiefs,  1,200 
jackets,  aiid  just  upon  8,400  towels ;  so  that  the  gross  yalue  of  their  united  labour  was  estimated  at  vety 
nearly  £1,800.  llie  Male  of  gratuities  paid  to  eonyicts  at  Brixton  is  nearly  the  same  as  that  of  other  prisons 
— ^those  in  the  second  class  receiying  from  6<f.  to  8A  per  week,  and  those  in  the  first  from  8i.  to  1«.  per  week, 
according  to  their  industry. 

The  expenses  of  the  prison,  on  the  other  hand,  were  upwards  of  £15,700 — the  cost  of  the  officers, 
clerks,  and  servants  being  yery  nearly  £8,900 ;  that  of  yictnaUing  the  prisoners  amounting  to£  3,000  and 
odd,  while  their  clothing  and  bedding  came  to  yery  nearly  £8,000,  and  the  fiiel  and  light  for  the  prison  to 
upwards  of  £1,200. 


THE  FEMAIE  COITYICT  PBISON  AT  BBIXTON.  195 

by  the  smdl  of  bamt  flannel  the  natare  of  the  oceupation  carried  on  within.  Here 
were.  gafl-stoTOB  for  heating  the  irons,  the  ordinary  grates  being  fonnd  too  hot  for  the 
raramer,  and  there  was  a  large  blanketed  dresser,  at  which  a  crowd  of  clean-looking  women 
were  at  wotk,  in  yeiy  white  aprons,  while  the  place  resounded  with  the  continued  click  of 
the  iroaa  returned  every  now  and  then  to  their  metal  stands.  On  the  floor  stood  baskets  of 
newly-ironed  dothes,  and  plaited,  and  looking  positively  like  so  much  moulded  snow; 
whilet,  ov^-bead,  might  be  heard  ^e  rumbling  of  the  mangles  at  work  on  the  upper  floor. 

Prom  eleven  till  twelve,  the  women  located  in  the  wings  pursue  their  needlework  in 
silence,  and  seated  at  their  doors ;  and  then  it  is  a  most  peculiar  sight  to  see  the  two  hundred 
female  convicts  ranged  along  the  sides  of  the  arcade,  and  in  each  of  the  three  long  balconies 
ihai  run  one  above  the  other  round  the  entire  bmlding,  so  that,  look  which  way  you  will, 
on  this  aide  or  on  that,  you  behold  nothing  but  long  lines  of  convict  women,  each  dressed  alike, 
in  their  deati  white  caps,  and  dark,  claret-brown  gowns,  and  all  with  their  work  upon  their 
knees,  stitching  away  in  the  most  startling  silence,  as  if  they  were  so  many  automata — 
tiie  oEoly  noise,  indeed,  that  is  heard  at  such  a  time  being  the  occasional  tapping  of  one  of  the 
matrons'  hammers  upon  the  metal  stove,  as  she  cries, ''  Silence  there  I  Keep  silence,  women !" 
to  some  prisoners  she  detects  whispering  at  the  other  end  of  the  ward.     {8ee  engramng,) 

As  we  passed  down  the  diflerent  wards,  examining  the  work  as  we  went,  each  woman  rose 
from  her  little  stool,  and  curtseyed,  while  those  on  the  other  side  stared,  with  no  little 
wonder  at  the  object  of  our  visit.  Some  were  making  flannels,  and  some  shirts.  *^  We  make 
all  the  diirts  for  Portland,  Fentonville,  and  MOlbank,"  said  the  matron,  who  still  accom- 
panied us ;  ''  but  those  blue-checked  shirts  are  for  Moses  and  Son ;  we  have  had  many  scores 
of  pounds  from  them !''  (No  wonder,  thought  we,  that  honest  women  cannot  live  by  the 
labour  of  shirt-making,  when  such  as  these,  who  have  neither  rent,  nor  food,  nor  dotiiing  to  find, 
are  their  competitors.)  One  of  the  convicts  was  engaged  upon  some  open  embroidery- 
work.  **  She's  in  for  life,''  whispered  the  matron,  as  we  passed  on — another  was  busy  at  a 
beaatifol  crotchet  coUar,  that  was  pronounced  to  be  a  rare  specimen  of  such  handiwork,  the 
flowers  being  raised,  so  that  the  pattern  had  more  the  appearance  of  being  carved  in  ivory 
than  wrought  in  cotton.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  long  arcade  stood  one  (who  had  evidently 
belonged  to  a  better  dass  than  her  fellow-prisoners),  cutting  out  a  dress  for  one  of  the  matrons. 
We  mounted  the  steps  leading  to  the  paddle-box-like  bridges  that  connect  the  opposite 
galleries,  and,  as  we  walked  along,  the  matron  still  drew  our  attention  to  the  various  articles 
made  by  the  women.  "  That  one  is  engaged  in  knitting  the  prison  hose ;  the  other  is  making 
up  the  caps  for  the  female  convicts.  This  woman  is  considered  to  work  very  beautifully," 
added  owe  guide,  as  she  drew  our  attention  to  a  sleeve  in  crotchet  work,  that  looked  rich  and 
light  88  point  lace.  ^'Ifs  taken  me  nearly  three  weeks  to  do,"  said  the  prisoner,  in 
answer  to  the  matron,  ''  but  then  I  have  a  room  to  clean,  and  to  go  to  chapel  twice  a  day, 
besidea."  One  was  ill,  and  seated  inside  her  cell-door  reading  the  ''Leisure  Hour," 
and  on  looking  at  the  article  that  engaged  her  attention  we  foxmd  it  to  be  headed,  **  An  inci- 
dent in  the  life  of  a  Erench  prisoner !" 

From  seven  till  eight  in  the  evening  the  same  silence  and  work  go  on ;  but  at  this 
period  the  women  sit  within  their  cells  on  their  stools.  The  chaplain  accompanied 
us  round  the  building  at  this  hour,  and,  as  we  passed  along,  the  prisoners  in  the  lower 
cells  rose  one  by  one  and  curtseyed  to  the  minister,  while  those  in  the  galleries  above 
stretched  their  heads  from  out  their  cell-doors  to  see  who  were  pacing  the  corridor  below. 
After  this  we  passed  into  the  passages  of  the  old  prison,  and  gentiy  turning  the  ''  inspection 
plate  "  of  some  of  the  cells  of  the  women  in  separate  confinement,  peeped  in  tmobserved 
upon  the  inmates,  and  found  some  working,  and  others  reading,  but  none,  strange  to  say, 
idling.  Then  we  looked  down  into  the  "  convalescent  ward,"  and  saw  the  women  seated  round 
the  fire-places  on  either  side;  and  after  a  time  we  returned  to  the  west  wing,  as  quietiy  as 


196  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OP  lONDOW. 

possible,  so  as  to,ayoid  being  heard  by  the  prisoners;  for  the  matron  was  amdons  we 
shotild  witness  the  passage  from  silence  to  conversation  that  occnrs  preoisely  at  eight  hare. 

The  corridor  seemed  to  be  entirelj  deserted,  no  form  being  yisible  bnt  those  of  the 
matrons  on  the  cross-bridges  aboTe;  while  the  place  was  so  still  that,  as  our  attendant 
said,  "No  one  would  belieye  there  were  a  hundred  and  ninety-nine  women  at  work 
within  it.*' 

As  we  waited  the  arrival  of  the  honr,  we  saw  heads  continually  stretched  out  to  look  at 
the  clock  at  the  end  of  the  corridor ;  and  when  the  first  stroke  of  the  time-piece  was  heard, 
the  prisoners,  one  and  all,  poured  out  of  their  cells  with  their  stools  in  their  hands,  and 
seated  themselves  in  couples  between  their  doors,  while  they  placed  their  lamps  on  the 
pavement  at  their  feet,  and  commenced  talking  rapidly  one  to  the  other.  This  movement  was 
80  simultaneous  that  it  seemed  more  like  a  pantomime-trick  than  a  piece  of  prison  discipUne ; 
while  the  change  from  utter  sLLence  to  the  babbling  of  some  two  hundred  tongues  was  so 
immediate  as  to  tell  us,  by  the  noise  that  pervaded  every  part  of  the  building,  how  severe  a 
restraint  had  been  imposed  upon  the  prisoners. 

Shortly  after  this  the  collection  of  the  scissors  began,  amidst  the  continual  tapping  of  the 
official  hammer  against  the  stove,  and  the  cry  of  the  matrons,  "  You  are  talking  too  loud, 
wom^n!  Make  less  noise,  there!"  The  scissors,  when  collected,  are  strong  one  by  qdo 
upon  a  large  circular  wire,  like  herrings  upon  a  rush,  and  then  carried  to  the  store-cell, 
and  locked  up  by  the  warder  for  the  night. 

In  the  west  wing  there  is  no  further  siLence  previously  to  retiring  to  rest.  In  the  east 
wing,  however,  prisoners  are  ordered  to  abstain  from  talking  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before 
the  bell  rings  for  bed. 

We  re-entered  the  latter  wing  precisely  at  half-past  eight-r-just  as  the  bell  was  linging; 
the  arcade  was  filled  with  the  noise  of  shifting  the  stools,  for  during  this  term  of  silence  the 
women  no  longer  sit  in  couples  betwecQ  their  cells ;  so  thoy  retired  with  their  little  wooden 
seats,  and  placed  themselves  just  within  their  doors,  where  they  began  read^lg. 

The  silence  now  was  even  more  perfect  than  ever,  and  remained  so  till  the  bell  oommenoed 
ring^g  at  the  prisomgate,  announcing  the  time  to  retire  to  rest.  Then  iostantaneooaly  the 
prisoners,  one  and  all,  rose  from  their  seats,  and,  seizing  the  stools,  withdrew  to  tiieir  ceUs ; 
and  then  putting  out  their  brooms,  they  closed  the  doors  aft^  them,  till  the  whoile  corridor 
rang  from  end  to  end  with  the  concussions. 

This,  again,  was  but  the  work  of  an  instant,  the  act  being  performed  with  militaiy 
precision^  and  in  a  minute  or  two  afterwards  the  principa}  matron  was  seen  travelling  along 
from  cell  to  cell,  and  double  locking  every  door  herself. 

In  the  other  wing  the  same  operations  had  gone  on  at  the  same  time,  and  though  it  was 
but  five  minutea  after  the  quarter  when  we  returned  to  it^  we  found  all  still  and  oLoae  for 
the  night. 

It  would  not  be  right  to  close  our  account  of  the  interpal  economy  of  this  prison  without 
commending,  more  directly  than  we  have  yet  done,  the  excellent  manner  in  which  the  govern- 
ment and  discipline  of  the  institutioiL  is  carried  out  by  all  the  lady-officers  connected  wiOi 
it — ^from  the  thoughtful  and  kind-hearted  superintendent,  down  even  to  the  considerate  Utile 
postwoman.  Indeed,  we  left  the  establishment  with  a  high  sense  of  the  kindneas  and  care 
that  the  female  authorities  exhibited  towards  the  poor  creatures  under  their  charge:^  and  it 
is  otur  duty  to  add,  that  we  noted  that  aU  at  Brixton  was  done  more  gently  and  fteling^y, 
and  yet  not  less  effectually,  than  at  other  prisons— the  feminine  qualities  Bhining  as  eminently 
in  the  d^arapter  of  warders  as  in  that  of  nurses. 


FEMALE  CONVICTS  AT  TVOKK,  DUBIHG  THE  SILENT  HOPE,  IN  BBIXTON  PRISON. 

(Fmm  a  Fholocrtpk  bj  Bnbtrt  Wmtklni,  lit,  BcicDt  SUrI.} 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  197 

Hiii. 
TEB  EULK8  AT  WOOLWICH. 

Half  an  hour's  journey  along  the  North  Kent  Bailway,  past  the  rising  meadows  near 
Blackfaeathy  and  the  bright  toy  villas,  planted  in  the  centre  of  the  greenest  conceiyable  lawns, 
which  make  the  neighbourhood  of  Charlton — ^then  through  a  long  dark  tunnel — ^will  deposit 
the  traveller  within  five  minutes'  walk  of  the  Dockyard  gates  of  Woolwich. 

The  sign  of  the  public-house,  ''  The  Wabbios,"  which  shows  a  gaudy  front  dose  to  the 
station,  sug^;e8ts  at  once  the  proximity  of  the  hulks.  The  lazy  men,  in  cotton-velvet-fironted 
waistcoats,  leaning  against  the  door-posts ;  strong  musters  of  very  dingy  children ;  remark* 
ably  low  shops,  exhibiting  all  kinds  of  goods  at  wonderfully  cheap  prices ;  and  street  after 
street  of  little  houses,  where  the  wives  of  the  regularly  employed  dock  labourers  advertise 
the  nature  of  their  industry  in  their  parlour  windows — ^indicate  the  neighbourhood  of  a 
great  industrial  establishment. 

Taming  from  the  entrance  of  the  Dockyard — opposite  which  is  a  flourishing  public-house, 
rejoicing  in  the  suggestive  sign  of  ''The  Old  Shebb  Hitle,"  which  probably  reminds 
some  of  its  customers  of  peculiarly  ''  good  old  times'' — and  keeping  the  high,  dark  walls  of 
the  yard  on  the  left,  the  way  lies  past  little  shops  and  beer  establishments  on  the  right, 
towards  the  arsenal.  iVom  the  elevated  churchyard,  crowded  with  graves,  the  sharp  outlines 
of  •which  are  rounded  by  the  waving  of  the  uncut  grass,  the  first  view  of  the  river,  with  the 
flat  Essex  marshes  beyond,  is  obtained.  Here,  immediately  opposite  the  yard,  rises  the  bulky 
form  of  the  great  ''Wabbiob"  hulk,  which,  the  authorities  declare,  can  hardly  hold  together. 
Painted  black  and  white,  and  with  her  naked  and  puny-looking  spars  degraded  to  the  rank 
of  clothes-props  for  the  convicts,  she  stands  in  curious  contrast  to  the  light  steamers  that 
dance  by  her,  and  to  the  little  sloops  laden  with  war  stores,  and  bound  for  Sheemess  or 
Portemouth,  that  glide  like  summer  flies  upon  the  surface  of  the  stream,  almost  imder 
her  stem. 

Prom  the  churchyard,  veering  to  the  right  along  the  busy  little  High  Street,  the  way  lies 
past  a  long  line  of  shop  windows,  displaying  capacious  tea-pots,  flanked  by  wondrously 
variegated  tea-cups,  and  offering  tempting  advantages  to  the  lovers  of  ''  a  comfortable  tea." 
A  dead  wall  stOl  farther  suggests  the  neighbourhood  of  the  hulks ;  for  there  the  posting^bill 
of  &e  Woolwich  theatre  offers  to  the  aspiring  youth  of  the  locality  the  lessons  of  ''  The 
Chaiv  of  Cbdce  ;  or.  The  Inn  on  Mmnshw  Heath**^  Then,  before  the  arsenal  gates,  which 
are  protected  by  three  or  four  stem  policemen,  a  broad  avenue  is  seen  at  noon,  marked  by  a 
double  row  of  women,  standing  with  their  arms  a-kimbo,  and  with  baskets  of  the  freshest 
and  reddest-looking  radishes  upon  the  ground  before  them,  waiting  for  the  coming  of  the 
labourers,  who  are  about  to  leave  the  arsenal  for  dinner. 

As  we  pass  through  the  arsenal  gate,  noticing  a  long  gun  pointed  right  through  the 
portal,  we  are  asked  where  we  are  going. 

**To  the  '  Defence'  Hulk,"  we  answer. 

Porthwith  we  are  ushered  into  one  of  the  lodges  at  the  side  of  the  gate,  where  our  name, 
address,  and  profession  are  inscribed  in  a  police  book.  We  are  then  told  to  pass  on  to  the 
water^s  edge,  where  we  shall  And  a  policeman  who  will  hail  the  hulk.  Through  groves  of 
tumbled  wheels  and  masses  of  timber,  past  great  square  buildings,  frt>m  the  roofs  of  which 
white  feathers  of  steam,  graceful  as  the  "  marabout,"  dart  into  the  clear  air,  and  through 
the  doars  of  which  the  glow  of  fires  and  the  dusky  figures  of  men  are  seen,  we  go  forward 
to  the  flag-staff  near  the  water's  edge,  and  close  to  the  bright  little  arsenal  pier,  with  its 
red  lamps,  and  that  long  iron  tube  under  it,  through  which  the  shells  are  sent  to  the  sloops 
mooEred  alongside.  A  heavy  mist  lies  upon  the  marshes  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river ; 
yet,  in  the  distance,  to  the  right  of  the  ''  Dbfenoe,"  Barking  Church  is  visible. 
14« 


198  THE  GEEIT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

The  ''Defence*'  and  ''TJititb/'  moored  head  to  head,  with  the  bulky  hammook-honsea 
roared  upon  their  decks,  their  barred  port-holes,  and  their  rows  of  conyicts'  linen  swinging 
from  between  the  stunted  poles  which  now  serve  them  as  masts,  have  a  sombre  look.  From 
this  point  we  can  just  see,  nearly  a  mile  farther  down  the  river,  the  heavy  form  of  the 
''Warbios"  moored  dose  alongside  the  Dockyard,  with  the  little,  ugly  ''Sulfhub"  (the 
washing-ship)  lying  in  the  offing. 

Meantime,  ^e  policeman,  placing  himself  in  a  prominent  position  upon  the  pier,  has 
hailed  the  officer  in  the  gangway  of  the  ''Defbkce  ;''  and  in  a  few  minutes  afterwards  a  long 
"  gig,"  pulled  by  four  convicts,  in  their  brown  dresses  and  glazed  hats,  parts  from  the  hulk ; 
and  showing  in  the  stem  tiie  stiff,  dark  form  of  an  officer,  steering  directly  for  the  landing- 
place,  upon  which  we  are  standing. 

As  the  boat  touches  the  shore,  one  of  the  convicts  places  a  little  mat  upon  the  cushioned 
seats,  upon  which  we  tread  as  we  jump  into  the  craft,  telling  the  officer  that  we  bear  an  order 
for  the  governor.  With  wonderful  precision  the  convict  boatmen  obey  the  orders  of  the 
officer,  and  point  the  boat's  bows  back  again  to  the  gangway  of  the  hulk* 

In  a  few  minutes  we  are  aboard;  and,  as  we  pass  up  the  gangway  steps,  we  hear 
one  officer  repeat  to  the  other — ''For  the  governor!"  And  then  a  warder,  with  a  bright 
bunch  of  keys  attached  by  a  chain  to  his  waist,  conducts  us  to  the  governor's  drawing- 
room — a  pretty  apartment,  where,  from  the  stem-windows  of  the  hulk,  there  is  a  very  pic- 
turesque view  of  the  river. 


^  iii — a. 
The  Butortf  of  the  Hulh. 

The  idea  of  converting  old  ships  into  prisons  arose  when,  on  the  breaking  out  of  the 
American  War  of  Independence,  the  transportation  of  our  convicts  to  our  transatlantic  pos- 
sessions became  an  impossibility.  For  the  moment  a  good  was  effected,  for  the  crowded 
prisons  were  relieved;  but  from  the  time  when  the  pressure  upon  the  prisons  ceased, 
down  to  the  present,  when  the  hulks  may  be  said  to  be  doomed,  all  writers  on  penology 
have  agreed  in  condemning  the  use  of  old  ships  for  the  purposes  of  penal  discipline. 

If,  however,  we  follow  the  wording  of  the  19th  GI«o.  III.,  cap.  74,  in  which  the  use  of 
ships  for  prisons  is  referred  to,  we  shall  perceive  that  an  idea  of  turning  convict  labour 
to  account,  for  cleansing  the  Thames  and  other  navigable  rivers,  had  probably  directed 
the  attention  of  government  to  the  possibility  of  arranging  ships  for  their  crowds  of 
convicts.* 

The  "  JvsTiTiA,"  an  old  Indiaman,  and  the  "  Cbnsob,"  a  frigate,  were  the  first  floating 
prisons  established  in  England.  This  system,  though  condemned  by  such  men  as  Howard 
and  Sir  William  Blackstone,t  was  not  only  persevered  in,  but  extended;  tiU,  on  the  1st 

*  The  section  of  the  act  referred  to  runs  thus : — 

"  And,  for  the  more  seyere  and  effectual  puniihment  of  atrociooa  and  daring  offenders,  be  it  further  enacted. 
That,  from  and  after  the  First  Day  of  July,  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy-nine,  where  any  Hale 
Person  .  •  .  shall  be  lawfully  convicted  of  Grand  Larceny,  or  any  other  Crime,  except  Petty  Larceny,  for 
which  he  shall  be  liable  by  Law  to  be  transported  to  any  Parts  beyond  the  Seas,  it  shall  and  may  be  lawfol 
for  the  Court  ...  to  order  and  adjudge  that  such  Person  .  .  .  shall  be  punished  by  being  kept  oa 
Board  Ships  or  Vessels  properly  accommodated  for  the  Security,  Employment,  and  Health  of  the  Persons  to  be 
confined  therein,  and  by  being  employed  in  Hard  Labour  in  the  raising  Sand,  Soil,  and  Gravel  from,  and 
cleansing,  the  River  Thames,  or  any  oUier  River  Navigable  for  Ships  of  Burthen,"  &c.,  &c. 

t  '*  London  Prisons,"  by  Hepworth  Dixon,  page  124. 


THE  HTJLKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  199 

of  Jaauary,  1841,  there  were  3,552  convicts  on  board  the  varioas  hulks  in  England."^  In 
1S54  the  numbers  so  confined  had  been  reduced  to  1298. 

Some  idea  of  the  sanitary  condition  of  these  establishments,  even  so  recently  as  1841,  may 
be  gathered  from  the  report  of  Mr.  Peter  Bossy,  surgeon  of  the  '*  Warbiob"  hulk,  off  Wool- 
Trieh,  which  shows  that  in  that  year,  among  688  convicts  on  board,  there  were  no  less  than 
400  <»8e8  of  admission  to  the  hospital,  and  38  deaths !  At  this  period  there  were  no  less 
than  11  ships  (including  those  stationed  at  Bermuda,  and  the  ''Euryalus,"  for  juvenile 
eonvicts)  used  by  the  British  government  for  the  purposes  of  penal  discipline— if  discipline 
the  then  state  of  things  could  possibly  be  called. 

There  are  stiU  ofGlcers  in  the  Woolwich  hulks  who  remember  a  time  when  the  '' Justitia'* 
(a  second  '' Justitia,"  brought  from  Chatham  in  1829)  contained  no  less  than  700  convicts ; 
and  when,  at  night,  these  men  were  fastened  in  their  dens — a  single  warder  being  left  on 
board  ship,  in  charge  of  them !  The  state  of  morality  under  such  circumstances  may  be  easily 
conceived— crimes  impossible  to  be  mentioned  being  commonly  perpetrated.f     Indeed  we 

*  In  1841,  the  gron  number  of  convicts  received  on  board  the  hulks  in  England  during  the  year  was 
3,625,  and  these  were  natives  of  the  following  countries,  in  the  following  proportion : — 

8,108  were  bom  in  England. 
80  „  Wales. 

229  „  Scotland. 

180  „  Ireland. 

•  13  „  British  Colonies. 

15  „  Foreign  States. 

Thetr  occupations  had  been  as  follows  :— 

804  had  been  Agriculturists. 
1,176        „       Hedhanics  and  persons  instructed  in  manufactures. 
1,986        „       Labourers  and  persons  not  instructed  in  manufactures. 
82       „        Domestic  servants. 

69        „        Clerks,  shopmen,  and  persons  employed  confidentially. 
8        „        Superior  class,  or  men  of  education. 

As  regards  the  religion  of  these  same  8,626  convicts,  the  subjoined  are  the  statistics : — 

2,984  belonged  to  the  Established  Church. 
269  „  Boman  Catholic  ditto. 

167  „  Scotch  ditto. 

246  were  Dissenters. 

9  „  Jews. 

1  „  Of  *'  another  denomination/' 

Concerning  tbeir  prison  ''antecedents" — 

1,451  were  flrst-offimce  men. 

487  had  been  in  prison  before. 
1,625       „       convicted  before. 
10        „       in  penitentiary. 
52        „       transported  before. 


Their  ages  were  as  follows  :— 


Lastly:— 


8  were  under  10  years  old. 

213  were  from  10  to  15  years  old. 

958         „        15  to  20        „ 

1,612         „        20  to  30        „ 

839  were  above  30  years  old. 


1,108  were  mairied. 
2,522  were  single. 

t  Even  so  late  as  1849,  we  find  the ''Unitd,"  hospital  ship  at  Woolwich,  described  in  the  following  terms;— 
<«  In  the  hospital  ship,  the  *  Unit^,'  the  great  majority  of  the  patients  were  infested  with  vermin ;  and  their 
peiaons,  in  many  instances,  particularly  their  feet,  begrimed  with  dirt    No  rog:ular  supply  of  body-linen  had 
been  issued ;  so  much  so,  tiiat  many  men  had  been  five  weeks  without  a  change ;  and  all  record  had  been  lost 
of  tfie  t*"*^  when  the  blankets  had  been  washed ;  and  the  number  of  sheets  was  so  insui&cient,  that  the 


200  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

were  afisnred  by  one  of  the  warders,  who  had  served  under  the  old  hulk  ^'  regime^^  that  ho 
well  remembers  seeing  the  shirts  of  the  prisoners,  when  hung  out  upon  the  rigging,  so  black 
with  vermin  that  the  linen  positively  appeared  to  have  been  sprinkled  over  with  pepper ;  and 
that  when  the  cholera  broke  out  on  board  the  convict  vessels  for  the  first  time,  the  chaplain 
refused  to  bury  the  dead  until  there  were  several  corpses  aboard,  so  that  the  coffins  were 
taken  to  the  marshes  by  half  a  dozen  at  a  time,  and  there  interred  at  a  given  signal  from  the 
clergyman ;  his  reverence  remaining  behind  on  the  poop  of  the  vessel,  afiraid  to  accompany 
the  bodies,  reading  the  burial-service  at  the  distance  of  a  mile  from  the  grave,  and  letting 
fall  a  handkerchief,  when  he  came  to  ''  ashes  to  ashes  and  dust  to  dust,"  as  a  sign  that 
they  were  to  lower  the  bodies. 

It  was  impossible  that  a  state  of  things  so  scandalous  could  last ;  and  the  successive 
reports  of  the  directors  of  convict  prisons  are  evidence  of  the  anxiety  witli  which  they  urged 
upon  the  government  the  reform — if  not  the  abandonment  of  the  hulk  system  alt(^ther; 
for,  to  the  disadvantages  inseparable  frx>m  the  conduct  of  ptison  discipline  on  board  ship, 
the  governors  of  hulks  were  forced  to  add  the  rottenness  of  the  vessels  intrusted  to  them. 
They  were  expected  to  govern  five  hundred  convicts  in  a  ship,  the  same  as  in  a  convenient 
building,  and  to  keep  them  healthy — ^in  a  rotten  leaky  tub  ! 

The  completion  of  the  Portsmouth  Convict  Prison,  in  1852,  at  length  effected  an  import- 
ant reduction  in  the  hulk  establishments.  The  ' '  Yosx  "  was  given  over  to  the  Admiralty  to  be 
broken  up.  Li  1851  the  ^'Devenoe"  had  been  moved  to  Woolwich  to  replace  two  un- 
serviceable hulks,  and  the  ''Wasuiob,"  which  lies  off  Woolwich  Dockyard,  and  is  still 
called  the  model  hulk,  had  been  reported  as  unsound.  It  wiU  be  seen,  by  the  accompanying 
extract  fr^m  the  directors'  report  for  1852,  that  they  again  drew  attention  to  the  ''  Wahbiob;" 
while  in  their  last  report  (1854)  they  have,  once  more,  ventured  into  a  few  details. 

*<  The  *  Wabbiob,'  "  say  they,  *'  is  patched  up  as  well  as  her  unsoundness  wiU  permit, 
but  there  is  no  knowing  how  soon  she  may  become  quite  unfit  for  further  use,  and  it  will  be 
advisable  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  that  offers  of  transferring  the  prisoners  to  some 
more  suitable  place  of  confinement,  as  any  serious  repairs  would  be  quite  thrown  away  on 
so  decayed  a  hulk,  if  indeed  they  would  be  practicable."  •  To  this  remonstrance  of  the  directors 
the  governor  added  his  own,  in  these  emphatic  words — ''  It  is  well  known  that  the  hulk  is 
in  a  most  dilapidated  condition,  and  scarcely  able  to  hold  together.  Recent  repairs,  sup- 
porting the  lower  deck,  &c.,  have  rendered  her  safe  from  any  immediate  danger;  but  the 
remedy  is  merely  temporary.    She  is  rotten  and  unsound  from  stem  to  stem." 

Still  the  "  Wabbxob"  remains,  in  spite  of  such  remonstrances  as  these,  with  canvas 
drawn  over  her  leakages,  to  keep  the  damp  from  the  wards,  moored  off  the  Woolwich  dock- 
yard, with  436  convicts  between  her  crumbling  ribs. 

Before  passing  from  this  brief  history  of  the  hulks,  to  paint  their  actual  condition,  the 
labour  performed  by  their  inmates,  and  the  regulations  under  which  they  are  conducted,  we 
will  quote  a  paragraph  fh)m  the  general  remarks  of  the  directors,  addressed  to  the  govern- 
ment at  the  beginning  of  last  year  on  this  subject : — ''  Our  opinion  on  the  disadvantages  of 
the  hulks,  as  places  of  confinement  for  prisoners,  has  been  so  strongly  expressed  in  previous 
annual  reports,  that  we  feel  it  unnecessary  here  to  say  more  than  that  we  consider  these  dis- 
advantages radical  and  irremediable,  and  to  urge  the  necessity  of  adopting  every  opportunity 
that  may  offer  of  substituting  for  them  prisons  on  shore,  constructed,  as  at  Portland  and 
Portsmouth,  with  sleeping  ceUs  for  all  the  prisoners.  Kow  that  the  transportation  of  crimi- 
nals can  only  be  carried  on  to  a  small  extent,  it  appears  of  very  great  importance  that  every 

expedient  had  been  resorted  to  of  only  a  single  sheet  at  a  time,  to  save  appearances.  Neither  towels  nor 
combs  vere  provided  for  the  prisoners'  use,  and  the  nnvholesome  odour  from  the  imperfect  and  neglected 
state  of  the  water-closets  was  almost  insupportable.  On  the  admission  of  new  cases  into  the  hospital,  patients 
were  directed  to  leave  their  beds  and  go  into  hammocks,  and  the  new  cases  were  tamed  into  the  vacated  beds, 
without  changing  the  sheets." 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  201 

defeet  in  ocmnection  with  their  impriBonment  which  might  lessen  the  prospect  of  its  being 
efieotaal  as  a  pnnishmenti  and  also  as  a  means  of  their  reformationy  should  be  got  rid  of  as 
speedily  as  possible,  and  of  mteh  defeeU  we  know  n(me  at  M  approaehing  in  magnitude  to  the 
atioeuUion  of  the  eonvicte  in  theprieon  Atifib.*' 

It  should  be  remembered,  let  ns  add,  by  the  opponents  of  the  ticket-of-leave  system,  that 
although  it  is  from  these  condemned  haUcs,  where  the  men  are  herded  together  and  are 
pretty  well  free  to  plot  and  plan  as  they  please,  that  they  are  turned  upon  society,  never- 
thel^,  according  to  the  directors'  report  just  quoted,  of  five  hundred  and  forty*four  convicts 
disidiaiged  in  1854  from  the  Woolwich  hulks  only,  and  one  hundred  and  six  discharged 
before  that  period — ^in  all  six  hundred  and  fifty  convicts — there  have  been  but  six  received 
back  with  licenses  revoked  for  misconduct. 

Ajb  we  have  already  remarked,  however,  the  hulks  are  doomed.  At  the  present  time  the 
**  Wasbiob,"  lying  off  Woolwich  Dockyard ;  the  little  '*  Sulphtjb,"  a  floating  wash-tub  for 
Uie  convicts,  lying  opposite  the  "Wajbsiox;*'  the  ''Dsfbhce,"  lying  off  Woolwich  Arsenal; 
and  the  ''Uirrri,"  made  fast  to  the  ^^Dbfekce,"  and  used  as  the  hulk  hospital  (together  with 
the  "SunLnrtt  Castle,"  the  invalid  depot,  and  the  '*Bkitoii  "  convict  hospital  at  Portsmouth), 
are  the  only  *'  floating  prisons  "  in  England— though,  by  the  by,  the  '' Wabbiob,"  floats  only 
cmoe  a  fortoight.* 

The  expense  to  the  country  of  the  hulk  establishment  (including  the  '*  SiXBiiira  Castlb  " 
and  "Bbtton"  at  Portsmouth),  in  1854,  the  date  of  the  last  returns,  was  £43,545  9«.  7d. 
Of  this  BUBi  the  cost  of  management  (including  the  salaries,  rations,  and  imiforms  of  officers) 
wasiftaarly  £14,000,  and  that  of  victualling  and  clothing  the  prisoners  about  £20,000 ;  while 
the  remainder  was  made  up  principally  of  gratuities  to  convicts  (about  £3,000),  clothing,  and 
travelling  expenses  of  liberated  prisoners  (upwards  of  £1,500),  medicine,  and  medical  com- 
f<»:tB  for  the  sick  (£1,850  odd),  fuel  and  light  (£1,500),  &c. 

The  hulk  system,  condemned,  as  we  have  already  observed,  from  the  date  of  its  origin  to 
the  present  time,  has  been  the  despair  of  all  penal  reformers.  OriginaB/y  adopted  ae  a  make' 
eUfi  under  preeeing  eirewmtaneee^  these  old  men*of-war  have  remained  dwring  nearly  half  a 
eenimy  the  receptacles  of  the  worst  class  of  prisoners  from  all  the  j  ails  of  the  United  Kingdom 

*  BrAraoDXT  or  tbb  Nuxbba  of  Pbiboivzbs  bxceitsd  on  boabb  the  Comviot  Ebtablisbmbntb  at 

WOOLWIOB,  AMD  AUSO  OP  THB  DiSFOflAL  OF  SUCH  PSISONBBS,  BBTWBEN  THE  IST  JaNUABT,  1854,  AKD 

1854. 

Nmnher  on  board, 

BemainiDg  on  board  January  1st,  1854 
Adokitted  during  the  year 

Total     •       •        .        .        • 

Sow  dispoMd  of 

Diaoharged  to  Colonies 
Sent  to  other  Priaons 
Pardoned .... 
Sent  to  Lunatic  Aayluma  . 
Invalided  to  «<  Stirling  Caatle  * 
Escaped    .... 
Died         .... 


"Warrior.»» 
421 
273 

«*Defenoe.'* 
521 
298 

Total. 
942 
571 

694 

819 

1513 

25 

21 

190 

0 

5 

1 

11 

29 

22 

216 

1 

8 

1 

16 

54 

43 

406 

1 

13 

2 

27 1 

258 
441 

293 
526 

546 
967 

694 
436 

819 
515 

1,513 
951 

Total     . 
Kcmaining  December  31, 1854 

Grand  Total  . 

Average  daily  number  of  prisoners 

t  1,270,  J.  S.,  on  the  20th  July,  drowned  accidentally  in  canal.    1,240,  J.  M.,  on  the  20th  June,  died 

suddenly  from  apoplexy  on  board  the  "  Defence." 


202  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOIl^DON. 

— ^a  striking  instance  of  the  inertness  of  goyemmenty  as  well  as  of  its  utter  callonsnees  as  to 
the  fieite  or  reformation  of  the  criminal. 

Convicts  who  have  undergone  the  reformatory  discipline  of  Millbank  and  PentonviUey  arc 
at  the  hulks  suddenly  brought  into  contact  with  offenders  who  have  undergone  no  reformatory 
discipline  whatever.  All  the  care  which  has  been  taken  at  Pentonville  and  at  Millbank  to 
prevent  the  men  talking  together,  and  associating  with  one  another,  is  thrown  away, 
since  the  first  freedom  granted  to  the  convict  imdergoing  penal  servitude  is  given  when  ho 
reaches  the  hulks,  and  finds  himself  in  a  ''  mess,''  where  he  will  probably  meet  with  aite  old 
companion  in  crime  at  least.  The  authorities  declare  that  in  these  messes  only  ''rational" 
conversation  is  permitted,  but  it  is  very  clear  that  forty  or  fifty  men  cannot  be  crammed 
into  one  side  of  a  ship's  deck,  put  together  upon  works,  and  swung  elbow  to  elbow  in 
hammocks  at  night  without  finding  ample  opportunity  for  free  conversation. 

Whatever  good  is  effected,  therefore,  by  the  systems  of  Millbank  and  Pentonville  is 
effectually  destroyed  at  Woolwich.  The  reformed  convict  from  Pentonville  is  at  the  hulk 
establishments  cast  among  companions  fh)m  whom  the  separate  system  sought  to  wean  him, 
while  he  is  put  to  labour  of  the  hardest  and  least  interesting  character.  He  was,  p^haps, 
a  shoemaker,  or  a  tailor,  or  weaver  at  Pentonville;  at  Woolwich,  however,  he  haa  to 
lay  aside  the  craft  that  he  has  only  just  leamt,  and  is  set  to  scrape  the  rust  frx)m  shells,  or  else 
stack  timber.  Here  he  is  not  only  thrown  amongst  brutal  companions,  whom  it  was  before 
considered  perdition  to  allow  him  to  associate  with,  and  even  to  «m,  but  put  to  do  the  lowest 
description  of  labour — ^in  some  instances  at  the  muzzle  of  a  guard's  carbine — and  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  it  is  the  very  rsptdmeneM  of  this  labour  which  is  his  punishment,  so  that 
it  is  strange,  indeed,  if  the  lessons  of  Pentonville  have  not  been  utterly  erased  from  his 
memory,  granting  that  the  imposed  dumbness  of  the  *'  silent  system,"  or  the  physical  and 
mental  depression  induced  by  the  separate  system,  to  have  worked  some  permanent  salutary 
effect  on  his  heart. 


Convict  Labmr  and  Diseipline  at  Woolwich. 

''The  hulk  system  was  continued,"  says  Mr.  Dixon,  "notwithstanding  its  disastrous 
consequences  soon  became  patent  to  all  the  world ;  and  it  still  flourishes — ^if  that  which  only 
stagnates,  debases,  and  corrupts,  can  be  said  to  flourish — though  condemned  by  every  impar- 
tial person  who  is  at  all  competent  to  give  an  opinion  on  the  matter,  and  this  because  the 
labour  of  the  convicts  is  found  useful  and  valuable  to  the  government — a  very  good  reason 
for  still  employing  convict  labour  upon  useful  public  works,  but  no  reason  at  all  for  continuing 
the  hulks  in  their  present  wretched  condition." 

As  we  have  already  remarked,  this  labour  is  of  the  description  called  "hard ;"  that  is  to 
say,  it  is  the  exercise  of  irksome  brute  force,  rather  than  the  application  of  self-gratifying 
ddll ;  still  those  persons  who  are  familiar  with  the  working  of  a  dockyard  or  an  arsenal, 
know  that  this  "  hard"  work  is  valuable  in  both  establishments;  for  in  the  general  report 
of  the  directors  on  the  results  of  1854,  under  the  head  of  "Earnings  and  Expenses," 
we  find  that  the  labour  of  the  convicts  confined  in  the  hulks  alone  was  valued  at 
£19,736  5«.  9i.  These  earnings,  however,  it  should  be  observed,  were  exclusive  of  the 
estimated  value  of  the  labour  of  the  convicts  employed  as  cooks,  bakers,  washers,  shoe- 
makers, tailors,  and  others  engaged  in  work  merely  for  prison  purposes. 

The  directors  tell  us  that  the  kind  of  work  performed  by  the  convicts  is  chiefly  labourers' 
work,  such  as  loading  and  unloading  vessels,  moving  timber  and  other  materials,  and  storee. 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH . 


203 


deaning  oat  Bbips,  &c.y  at  the  dockyard ;  whilst  at  the  royal  arsenal  the  piisoners  are  employed 
at  jobs  of  a  similar  description,  with  the  addition  of  cleaning  guns  and  shot,  and  excavating 
ground  for  the  engineer  department — 329  prisoners,  out  of  a  daily  average  of  515  on  board 
the  "DsiBircBy"  having  been  so  employed.  ''  The  only  artificer's  work^^  add  the  directors,  *'  ihat 
the  eonmeU  hn/oe  had  an  opportunity  of  performing  has  been,  to  a  very  smaU  extent,  in  exeeutiny 
repass  and  other  jobs  for  the  serviee  of  the  hulks  in  which  they  have  been  confined,**  * 

Ajb  regards  the  industry  of  the  prisoners,  the  directors  say  "  the  men  generally  have 
worked  wHUnyly  and  with  good  effect,  considering  the  disadvantage  inseparable  from  their 
being  occasionally  mixed  with,  or  in  the  neighbourhood  of,  numbers  of  free  labourers  and 
others — a  circumstance  which  requires,  for  the  sake  of  secarity,  considerable  restraint  to  be 
placed  on  their  freedom  of  action.  Punishments  for  idleness,  though  always  inflicted  where 
Uie  offence  is  proved,  have  been  by  no  means  of  frequent  occurrence."  f 

The  ''  willingness  "  here  spoken  of,  however,  is  of  a  very  negative  kind,  and  might  bo 
better  described  as  resignation,  or  a  desire  to  escape  punishment.  Kevertheless  it  should  in 
fJEomesB  be  added,  that  the  governor  of  the  ''  Wassiob  **  hulk  reported  to  the  directors  of 
ooorict  prisons, in  1854,  that  "the  value  of  the  convicts'  labour  might  be  favourably  com- 
pared with  that  of  an  equal  number  of  free  workmen." 

%*  Fakie  of  Labour  at  the  Suits. — ^Let  us  turn  now  to  the  value  set  upon  the  labour  of 
Uie  prisoners  at  the  hulks  by  the  directors  of  convict  prisons. 

The  report  for  1854  returns  the  value  of  convict  dockyard  labour  at  2s,  5j^d.  and  a 
fraction  daily,  per  man ;  while  arsenal  convict  labour,  according  to  the  same  authority,  is 
worth  2s,  4J.  per  diem;  that  of  the  convict  carpenters,  blacksmiths,  painters,  plumbers, 
and  coopers  is  valued  at  2s,  6d.  a  day,  and  that  of  shoemakers,  tailors,  washers,  and  cooks 
at  Is.  6i.,  whilst  the  general  prison  labour,  working  of  boats,  &c.,  is  set  down  at  only 
Is.  Sd.  a  day. 

"Now,  by  this  scale  we  find  that  the  following  were  the  earnings  of  the  convicts  at 


•   KXTUBN  OF  nCFLOTXSKT  OV  FBISOITEBS  IN  THE  "DEFEKCB'' 

16th  decembeb,  1854. 


HULK  FOB  THE  WEEK  BNDtNQ 


QemnX  Oeeii]«tioD. 


OsnuAKCi  (A)  Work 
tac  Parties  (m  de 
uSitdimeol,i) 

pKisoif  WoBX  (B)  (oa 

ters 


Pudnter    - 


ra     - 


Tiilon     - 


63 

4 


3 
1 

4 

6 

13 

4 


329 


101 


Oeneral  Oocnpation. 


Sick  (C)  and  unfit  for 
labour  {a$  deUuM  tfi 
eol.  4)       -       - 

School 

Skfakatb  for  Pvhmb 
xsMT  (or  otber  rea- 
■ons) 


ATerage  daily  number 


I 


22 

eo 


85 


515 


Deeerlption  of  Work. 


(A.)  Obdkancb  Worx- 
XMo  Paktxbs. 

Removing  and  ataoking 

timber 
DiBcbarging  mud 
Shippiog  and  imabip- 

pmg  stores 
Cleaning  out  abeds 
Cleaning  sbot  and  sbell 
Carting  sundries 
Digging  graTel  « 
Odd  jobs  not  measura- 
ble .  -  -  . 
Slaking  and  repairing 
grummetta  and  wads 
R^iring  butt  and 

roads 

Assisting  tradesmen    - 
Cleaning  out  drains    - 

Total      . 


>  o 


114 
14 

40 
10 
37 
14 
8 

1 

34 

86 
27 
14 


330 


Description  of  Work. 


(B)  PnisoH  Woaz. 

Boarders  cleaning  sbip 
generallT.and  attend- 
ing on  ack  at  bospi. 
tel    -       -       .       . 

Boatmen     .       .       . 

Wbitewasbers     - 

Bed-pickers 

Net-maker  •       .       - 


(C)  Sick. 

Sick  at  Hospital  - 
DittOi  complaining 


II 

>  o 


42 

16 

3 

3 

1 


63 


16 
6 


22 


t  Rtport  ^f  ike  Direelors  of  the  Qmvict  PHeem  on  ike  J)iic$plme  and  Management  of  the  Hulk  EtUiblUhmmt, 
1854. 


204 


THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


Woolwichi  '^08  calculated  according  to  reasonable  wages,  for  the  different  descriptions  of 
work  performed,  per  day  of  10  hours,"  during  the  year  1854 : — 


4 

h 

515 
436 

951 

I 

Name  of  Hulk. 

By  luferior  Workmen. 

By  Superior  Workman. 

No.  of  Days, 
10  hrs.  eaoh. 

96,018 
68,655„2 

EsUin::tedTaliie 

No.  of  Days, 
10  hrs.  each. 

Value. 

Total 
estimated  Yalue. 

Annual 

Average  per 

Head. 

"Defence"      .    .    . 
"Warrior"      .    .    . 

£         s.d, 
10,067    6  9 

8,453  15  5 

1      £*.</. 
2,889„9       342  2  7 

1],691„3  !     873  1  0 

£         t.  d. 

10,409     9    4 

9,326  16    5 

20  4     3 

21  7  10 

Total     .    . 

164,673„2 

18,521    2  2 

14,581„2  : 1,215  3  7 

1 

19,736    5   9 

20  15     OJ 

Here  then,  we  perceiye  that  951  conyicts  on  board  the  two  Woolwich  hulks,  performed 
altogether  very  nearly  180,000  days'  labour  in  tbe  course  of  the  year,  and  earned  cd- 
lectively,  in  round  numbers,  £20,000,  or  almost  20  guineas  per  head.* 

*  The  subjoined  is  a  more  detailed  account  of  the  quantity  and  the  kind  of  voik  done  by  the  conTicts 
in  the  dockyard  and  arsenal  at  Woolwich : — 

BTATBMBNT  OP  THB  YALVB  OF  LABOUR  PBBFOEMSD  Of  THB  BOTAL  ]X>CXTARD,  WOOLWICH,  BT  CONTICTS, 

IN  TRS  YEAR  1854. 

BemoYing  and  stacking,  &o.,  cubic  timber,  2,825,073  cubic  feet,  at  12«.  per  1,000  feet . 

Bemoring  and  stackuig  superficial  timber,  1,726,555  superficial  feet,  at  4«.  6d.  per  1,000  feet 

Bemoying  iron,  ballast,  stores,  &c.,  23,916  tons,  at  6d,  per  ton 

Weighing  and  stacking  ditto,  25,654  tons,  at  4dL  per  ton 

Bemoying  coals,  46,406  tons,  at  7d,  per  ton  .... 

Weighing  and  stacking  ditto,  83,586  tons,  at  6d.  per  ton 

Carting  sundries,  3,362  loads,  at  6d,  per  load        .... 

Spinning  and  balling  oakum,  228  cwt.,  at  2«.  per  cwt.  . 

Cattingup  old  rope,  193  tons,  at  2«.  per  ton         .... 

Picking  oakum,  119  lbs.,  at  B^d.  per  lb 

Bemoying,  stacking,  and  veighing  old  rope,  &c.,  1,932  tons,  at  6d,  per  ton 

Odd  jobs  not  measurable :~  Assisting  shipwrights  and  riggers,  cleaning  out  eawmiUs,  steamers, 
docks,  and  yard,  testing  chain  cables,  &c.,  docking  and  undocking  yessels,  cutting  up  old 
iron,  staging,  pitch  scraping,  cross-cutting  timber,  remoying  bootSi  Ac  &c.,  266,948 
hours,  at  10  hours  per  day,  equal  to  26,694  days  8  houxi,  at  2s.  i4L  per  day  . 

Total  yalue  of  dockyard  labour 


1,695    0  10| 

888    9 

H 

597  18 

0 

427  11 

4 

1,353  10 

2 

699  14 

2 

84     1 

0 

22  16 

0 

19    6 

0 

2  14 

6i 

48    6 

0 

3,414    7  10^ 


.  £8,453  15    5 

8TATBXKNT  OF  THB  yALUB  OF  LABOITB  PBBFOBMED  FOB  THB  OBDNANCB  SBPABTMBNT,  BOTAL  ABSBNAL, 
BT  THB  OOByiOn,  DUBINQ  THB  TXAB  BNDINO  31ST  DBCBKBBB,   1854. 

Bemoying  and  staeking  timber,  2,222,350  cubic  feet,  at  12«.  per  1,000  feet      ....  £1,333    8 

.    1,371  10 


Ditto  ditto  6,095,636  superficial  feet,  at  4«.  6d.  per  1,000  feet 

Making  mortar,  329  cube  yards,  at  lldL  per  yard 15    1 

Breaking  stones,  3,525  budiels,  at  6d.  per  bushel 73    8 

Facing  stones,  839  superficial  feet,  at  6d,  per  foot 17    9 

Weeding,  59,787  superficial  yards,  at  If.  6 J.  per  100  yards 44  16 

Baising  and  remoying  mud,  13,070  tons,  at  6id.  per  ton 299  10 

Bemoying  and  shipping  stores,  Joc.,  53,037  tons,  at  6<f.  per  ton 1,325  18 

Gleaning  shot  and  shell,  247,370  No.,  U,  per  24  shot 515    7 

Carting  sundries,  44,550  loads,  at  6<f.  per  load 1,113  15 

Digging  and  remoying  grayel,  8,547  cube  yards,  at  6d,  per  yard 178    1 

Making  concrete,  96  cube  yards,  at  If.  per  yard 4  16 

Odd  jobs  not  measurable :~ Cleaning  saw-mills,  sheds,  drains,  tanks,  and  cadets'  barracks, 
making  and  repairing  grummotts,  wads,  &c.,  repairing  butt  and  roads,  assisting  tradesmen, 
filling  hollow  shot,  whitewashiog,   cutting  sods,  mowing,  making  and  stacking  hay, 

spreading  mud,  clearing  away  snow,  &c.  &c.,  19,550  days,  at  2f.  id.  per  day   .               .  2,280  16    8 


3 
4 
7 
9 
7 
9 
5 
6 
1 
0 
3 
0 


Total  yalue  of  arsenal  labour  • £8,574    0    2 

K.Bt— The  totals  aboTe  giren,  though  Inoorreot,  are  eopled  literally  from  the  Direetora*  Report. 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  206 

*«*  OmnM  GrahtUiei, — ^The  gratnities  which  the  conrictsy  labouring  on  the  public  works 
or  in  the  huUcB,  aie  entitled  to,  are  diyided  into  "conduct  gratuities"  and  "industry  gratuities/ ' 
both  of  which  ybtj  according  to  the  class  to  which  the  conyict  belongs.  Each  prisoner  is 
entitled  to  his  conduct  gratuity  irrespective  of  his  gratuity  for  industry,  whilst  his  industry 
gratuities  are  measured  by  the  zeal  with  which  he  labours.  The  conduct  gratuities,  as 
arranged  in  the  books  of  the  governor  of  the  **  Defence/'  stand  thus  :-— 

COVDVa  OEATUmES. 

1st  Glass  Prisoners  (receive)  .  .  .  ,  M.  Weekly. 

2nd  Glass  Prisoners  ,,     „     .  •  Qd.      „ 

3rd  Glass  Prisoners  „    n     >  «  •  4td,      „ 

The  industry  gratuities,  or  sums  placed  to  the  credit  of  the  convicts  according  to  the 
amount  of  work  done,  vary  from  Sd,  for  a  '*  good ''  quantity  of  labour  performed,  to  6d,  for 
a  *'  very,  good  "  quantity.* 

We  took  tiie  trouble  to  inspect  the  books  of  tiie  ''  Dbfekcs,"  and  can  testify  to  the 
marvellous  neatness  and  accuracy  with  which  they  are  kept.  When  a  prisoner  is  reported 
to  the  governor,  the  latter  can  tell,  by  a  glance  at  the  character-book,  the  conduct  of  the 
former  during  every  week  he  has  spent  at  the  hulk.  At  the  expiration  of  the  convict's  term 
the  diaracter-book  is  summed  up,  the  advantages  resulting  firom  the  prisoner's  class  and 
industry  are  added  together,  and  he  has  a  bill  made  out  of  the  sum  due  to  him,  in  the 
following  form,  which  we  copied  from  the  governor's  book : — 

J.  G.,  Glass  I.  Gonduct. 

90  weeks,  V.  0.,  at  9d.  per  week  .£376 

13  weeks,  G.,  at  6d.  per  week      .  .        0    6     G 

1  week  (infirmary  accident)  6d,  0    0     6 

XNDUSIBr. 

99  weeks,  V.  G.,  at  6d.  per  week  2    9    6 

4  weeks,  G.,  at  Sd.  per  week      .  0     10 

1  week  infirmary,  Srf.  per  week  0    0     3 

53  weeks  (ticket-of-leave  class,  at  6d.  per  week)t  16     6 

7  11     9 
Had  in  private  cash    0    0    4 

Total    7  12     I 
*  The  sabjoined  is  extracted  from  the  govemoi^s  books  :^ 

1.  1  INDT78T11T  OJUTTrimS. 

2.  V  As  per  aathorified  scale. 

3.) 

y.  6.  (Terj  good).    If  the  number  of  the  V.  G.'s  is  under  one-third  of  the  total  number  of  weeks  that 

the  prisoner  has  been  in  the  prison,  he  may  receiye  ^d,  for  every  Y.  G. ;  if  OYer  one*third  and  under  two- 
thirds  of  the  total  number,  he  may  receive  6d. ;  if  oyer  two-thirds,  he  may  receiye  6  J.  for  eyery  Y.  0. 

6.  (good).  The  prisoner  may  receiye  Zd,  for  cyery  G.  (unless  the  whole  of  the  gratuities  become  forfeited 
by  misconduct). 

0.  Nfl. 

Y.  B.  (yery  bad).  ^ 

P.  (punishment).  (  Kil.    Being  forfeited  for  misconduct. 

B.  (bad).  ) 

1.  (infirmarj).  NU.  The  infirmary  cases  are  liable  for  special  considerations  with  reference  to  class  and 
eondttct,  but  not  for  extra  gratuity. 

L  A.  (infirmary  accident).  Discretionary — being  goyemcdby  the  circumstances )  but|  os  a  rule^  a  gratuity 
is  allowed  according  to  the  prisoner*s  preyious  conduct  and  industry. 

Jj.  Q^jbt  labour).    According  to  class  (as  aboye),  but  no  extra  gratuity. 

The  aboye  scale  does  not  apply  where  a  special  scale  is  authorised  for  inyalids. 

t  This  payment  of  M.  per  week  was  the  compensation  made  to  prisoners  who,  after  the  suspension  of 


206  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LOITDON. 

This  man  leoeived  on  leaving  fiye  shillings  in  cash,  £3  159.  in  a  Post-office  order,  payable  at 
his  declared  destination.  Thus  a  balance  of  £3  129.  Id,  in  his  favour  remained  in  the 
governor's  hands,  to  which  he  would  become  entitled  when  a  letter,  of  which  he  was 
furnished  with  a  printed  form  on  leaving  the  hulks,  was  received  from  him,  signed  by  the 
clergyman,  or  some  other  responsible  person  in  his  neighbourhood,  as  a  proof  that  he  was 
leading  an  honest  life.* 

The  rule  is,  that  if  a  prisoner's  account  when  he  is  discharged  be  under  £8,  he  may 
receive  half  on  leaving,  and  the  balance  two  months  subsequently ;  whereas,  if  his  balance 
exceeds  £8  and  be  under  £12,  he  must  wait  three  months  for  the  balance.  In  addition  to 
the  money  due  to  him,  every  prisoner  discharged  from  the  hulks  is  provided  with  a  new  suit 
of  dothes  and  a  change  of  linen. 

The  gross  sum  paid  in  gratnities  to  the  convicts  at  the  hulks  amounted  to  upwards  of 
£2,950  in  the  course  of  the  year  1854,  while  the  cost  of  the  clotliea  and  travelling  expenses 
for  the  prisoners,  on  obtaining  their  liberation,  was  £1,650  odd. 

\*  Badg$9y  Sfe. — ^A  distinctive  portion  of  the  discipline  carried  on  at  Woolwich  consists 
in  the  badges  worn  by  the  pris<mers  on  the  left  arm,  and  the  rings  worn  on  the  rig^t. 
These  badges  are  made  of  black  leather,  with  an  edge  of  red  cloth,  with  white  and  Uack 
letters  and  figores  upon  it.  We  advanced  towards  some  convicts  who  were  hauling  up  lineo. 
to  the  mast  to  dry,  and  who  wore  both  rings  and  badges.  The  first  badge  we  examined  was 
marked  thus  :— 


The  7  meant  that  the  prisoner  had  been  sentenced  to  «^m  years*  transportation;  the  8 
that  he  had  been  in  the  hulk  that  number  of  months,  and  the  Y.  G.,  that  his  conduct  had 

trauBportation  for  short  temu,  remained  in  the  hnlks  during  the  paanng  of  the  tieket-of-leave  hUl.  The 
▼eeklj  allovance  was  paid  to  them  from  the  date  at  which  they  would  have  obtained  tickets  had  they  pro* 
ceeded  to  Australia,  till  they  were  set  free  from  the  hulks.  Thus  J*.  C.  was  a  prisoner  d3  weeks  longer  than 
he  would  have  been  confined  had  he  been  sent  to  the  colonies. 

*   XBKOBANDXTM  TO  BB  OIVBN  TO  A.  PBIBOirEB  ON  DIBCHABOB,  IN  CA8B  ANY  BALANCB  OP  OBATUITT 

MAT  BE  DX7B  TO  HIM. 

'*  In  the  event  of  your  conduct  being  satisfactory  when  at  liberty,  and  that  you  faithfully  perfonn  tho 
conditions  printed  at  the  back  of  the  License,  your  claim  to  the  balance  of  your  (Gratuity  will  be  admitted  on 
your  returning  this  paper  to  me  at  the  expiration  of  three  months  from  your  release,  backed  by  the  certifi- 
cate of  the  Magistrate  or  Clergyman  of  the  Parish,  or  other  competent  and  known  authority,  that  yov  aro 
eaming  your  liyelihood  by  honMt  means,  and  have  proyed  youzself  deserving  of  the  clemency  which  has 
been  extended  to  you  by  Her  Majesty. 

'*  The  following  particuLars  must  be  carefully  stated  in  returning  this  paper:— 
Christian  and  Surname  at  length,  and  Prison  Number         •       • 

Tour  Occupation  or  Calling,  or  in  what  manner  you  are  eaming ) 
your  liyelihood J 

The  name  of  the  Post-office  at  which  the  order  should  bo  made ) 
payable ...         ) 

Ooventor, 

18fi    /' 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  207 

been  very  good  all  the  time  he  had  been  there.     Another  man  wore  a  badge  marked 
thus: — 


4 

G. 

8 

6 

ThiB  denoted  that  the  prisoner  was  suffering  fomr  yeaxB*  penal  seryitude ;  that  his  conduct 
had  been  good  during  mt  months ;  and  that  he  had  been  on  board  the  hulk  eigM  months. 

These  badges  are  collected  once  in  every  month,  and  conveyed  to  the  goyemor's  office. 
The  eharaoter-book,  as  filled  up  from  the  weekly  reports  of  the  warders,  is  gone  oyer  in  each 
caae,  and,  at  the  same  time,  if  the  prisoner  have  behaved  badly,  hib  badge  is  altered,  and  he 
loses  some  of  the  advantages  of  his  previous  good  conduct.*  Three  months'  good  report  in  the 
character-book  constitutes  a  Y.O.,  or  i^ery  good,  and  advances  the  wearer  three  months  towards 
the  second  stage  of  penal  seryitude.  Accordingly  the  man's  class  is  not  marked  upon  his 
badge. 

But  l^e  first  man  whose  badge  we  noticed  upon  his  left  aim,  had  also  upon  his  right  arm 
a  blue  and  two  red  rings.  The  blue  ring  denotes  the  second  stage  of  penal  seryitude,  and  the 
red  rings  that  he  is  a  first-class  convict.  One  red  ring  upon  the  right  arm  makes  a  second- 
olass  convict;  and  the  third-class  prisoner  is  known  by  the  absence  of  all  rings  from  his  arm. 
By  this  system  we  are  assured  that  it  is  almost  impossible  that  a  prisoner  can  be  unjustly 
dealt  with. 

•  ''  The  badges  which  are  giyen  as  a  record  to  the  prisoner  of  his  aotoal  position  with  reference  to  cha- 
raeter,  have  proved  to  be  a  great  enoooragement ;  and  that  they  are  prized  is  evidenced  by  the  efforts  made 
to  obtain  them,  and  to  regain  them  by  good  oonduot  in  such  cases  as  they  may  have  been  forfeited. 

'*  The  Goyemor  of  Portland  Prison  observes : — 

« *  The  system  of  wearing  conduct-badges  on  the  dress,  by  which  the  monthly  progress  of  each  convict 
towards  the  attainment  of  his  tioket-of-leave  is  publicly  marked,  woriu  very  satisfactorily,  as  is  evinced  by 
the  anxiety  of  even  the  ill-conducted  prisoners  to  regain  a  lost  good-conduct  mark,  and  the  efforts  to  keep 
•abseqnently  dear  of  the  misconduct  book.' 

**  As  a  means  of  promoting  good  conduct^  a  system  of  classification  has  also  been  adopted,  the  object  of 
which  will  be  best  understood  from  the  rules  established  with  reference  to  it,  which  are  as  follows: — 

<' '  The  prisoners  shall  be  divided  into  three  classes,  to  be  called  the  first,  second,  and  third  dasaes.  The 
daanfication  shall  depend,  in  the  first  instance,  on  the  report  of  character  and  general  conduct  since  con- 
Tictioii  that  may  be  received  with  a  prisoner ;  and  subsequently,  on  his  actual  conduct,  industry,  and 
obaeryed  character  under  the  discipline  of  the  establishment 

^  '  6.  Prisoners  in  either  the  first  or  second  classes  shall  be  liable  to  removal  to  a  lower  class  for  miscon- 
duct. The  priM>ners  in  the  different  classes  shall  be  distlngmahed  by  badges,  indicating  the  particular  class 
to  which  each  prisoner  may  belong. 

'*  *  7.  Prisoners  who  habitually  misconduct  themselves  will  be  liable  to  be  sent  back  to  separate  confine- 
ment, or  to  be  removed  to  some  penal  establishment  under  more  severe  discipline. 

^  *  8.  The  object  of  the  clasdfication  is  not  only  to  encourage  regularity  of  conduct  and  a  submission  to 
^■^plitut  In  the  prison,  by  the  distinctions  that  will  be  maintained  in  the  different  classes,  but  to 
prodnee  on  the  mind  of  the  prisoners  a  practical  and  habitual  conviction  of  the  e£B&ct  which  their  own  good 
conduct  and  industry  will  have  on  their  welfare  and  future  prospects. 

*' '  9.  Such  distinctions  shall  be  made  between  the  classes,  and  such  privileges  granted,  as  shall  promote 
the  object  of  giving  encouragement  to  those  whose  good  conduct  may  deserve  it,  provided  such  distinctions 
do  not  inteifere  with  diadpline  nor  with  the  execution  of  a  proper  amount  of  labour  on  publio  works.'  "— 
jRapoH  on  ike  Di§eipUne  and  Comlruction  of  Fortland  Pritony  and  iU  Connection  with  ths  SyUm  of  Convict 
now  in  operation^  by  Lieut.-Col.  Jebb,  C.B.,  1850. 


208  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LONDON. 

A  Bay  an  Board  the  ^^Befenee"  Hulk, 

The  cold;  gray  light  of  early  momiiig  gave  to  eyeiything  its  most  chilly  aspect,  when 
at  fiye  a.h.  we  stepped  aboard  the  ''  Defence/'  the  old  74-gii2L  ship,  with  the  determination 
of  spending  an  entire  day  with  her  500  and  odd  inmates.  But  before  we  describe  Hie  yarions 
duties  by  which  every  day  in  a  conyict-ship  is  marked,  let  us  here  acknowledge  how  much 
we  owe  to  the  courtesy  and  to  the  ludd  explanations  of  the  goyemor,  Mr.  S.  Byrne.  As  we 
run  up  the  gangway  of  the  silent  huU,  and  survey  the  broad  decksi  and  massive  ''  galleys," 
and  hammock-houses,  in  the  misty  light,  the  only  sounds  heard  are  the  guigling  of  the  tide 
streaming  past  the  sides  of  the  black-looking  vessel,  and  the  pacing  of  the  solitary  warder- 
guard — ^tiie  silence  and  the  stillness  of  the  scene  in  no  way  realizing  the  preconceived  idea 
of  a  convict  hulk.  Yet  as  wo  pass  to  the  ship's  galley,  at  the  fore-part  of  the  vessel,  and  see 
the  copper  sheathing  glistening  on  the  floor  round  the  cook's  fire,  with  the  lai^  black  boiler 
above  it,  and  the  sparkling  yellow  fire  shining  through  the  broad  bars,  the  sight  reminds  us 
that  there  are  hundreds  of  mouths  to  feed  below.  The  cook  sharply  rakes  the  burning  coals; 
and  the  copper  frets,  and  spurts,  and  steams,  with  its  unquiet  boiling  volume  of  the  reddish- 
brown  cocoa. 

This  cook  is  the  first  convict  with  whom  we  have  come  in  contact :  he  is  preparing  tiie 
break&sts  of  his  fellow-prisoners,  who  are  still  sleeping  under  the  hatches.  Close  at  hand 
is  the  bread-room,  piled  with  baskets  and  boxes;  while  opposite  is  the  officers'  gaUey,  with 
another  stove,  standing  on  its  plate  of  glistening  copper  sheathing.  Above,  on  the  forecastle, 
are  the  hammock-houses — divided  off  into  large,  black,  deep  cupboards — ^bulging  over  the 
gunwale  of  the  ship.  Then  we  pass  the  drying-houses  for  linen  (used  in  wet  weather),  and 
the  little  cabins  at  the  gunwale  waist,  where  the  mechanic-convicts  employed  on  board  ply 
their  respective  handicrafts.  Glancing  over-head,  we  observe  the  shirts  and  stockings  of  the 
prisoners  below  dangling  from  the  scanty  rigging  between  the  masts,  and  fluttering  in  the 
wind — as  we  had  remarked  them  from  the  shore  in  broad  daylight  on  another  occasion. 

We  are  now  near  the  top  deck  hatchway  by  the  forecastle;  it  is  still  haired  and 
padlocked.  Here  the  bayonet  of  the  sentry  on  duty,  glistening  in  the  light,  attracts  our 
attention.  Then  we  notice  the  heavy  bright  beU,  swung  in  front  of  the  hatchway.  AH 
is  quiet  yet.  We  can  hear  the  water  splashing  amid  the  boats  at  the  broad  gangway,  or 
along  the  shelving  sides  of  the  ship,  under  her  barred  port-holes.  The  warder  who  accom- 
panies us,  ourselves,  and  the  sentry  are  still  the  only  people  on  the  spacious  decks  of  the  old 
seventy-four.  The  poop,  given  up  to  the  governor's  rooms,  and  to  those  of  his  deputy  and 
officers,  is  railed  round ;  while  a  series  of  chimney  funnels,  projecting  here  and  there,  break 
the  regularity  of  the  outline. 

The  warder  proceeds  to  open  the  hatchways ;  and  we  descend,  in  company  with  him,  the 
top  deck,  in  order  to  see  the  men  in  &eir  hammocks,  before  rising  for  their  day's  duties. 

%*  The  *^  Twrning-out'^  of  the  Conmcts. — On  reaching  the  top  deck  we  found  it  divided,  by- 
strong  iron  ndls  (very  like  those  in  the  zoological  gardens,  which  protect  visitors  from  the  forj 
of  the  wild  beasts)  frx>m  one  end  to  the  other,  into  two  long  cages  as  it  were,  with  a  passage 
between  them.  In  this  passage  a  warder  was  pacing  to  and  fro,  commanding  a  view  of  the 
men,  who  were  slung  up  in  hammocks,  fEistened  in  two  rows,  in  each  cage  or  compartment  of 
the  ship.  There  was  also  a  little  transverse  passage  at  the  end  of  each  ward,  that  allowed 
the  officer  on  duty  to  take  a  side  view  of  the  sleepers,  and  to  cast  the  light  of  his  bull's-eye 
under  the  hammocks,  to  assure  himself  that  the  men  were  quiet  in  their  beds. 

The  glimmering  little  lanterns  attached  to  the  railings,  so  that  the  warder  on  duty  could 
trim  them  without  entering  the  wards,  were  still  alight.    The  glazed  hats  of  the  men  hung 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH. 


209 


tip  oyerhead,  reflecting  the  pale  beams ;  and  fhe  men  themselres  were  still  snoring  in  their 
dingy  hammookg. 

In  these  two  compartments  or  wards  were  105  conviots,  parted  off  into  sections,  D  1, 
D  2,  and  A  1  and  A  2.  {See plan,  p.  211.)  And  a  cnrions  sight  it  was  to  look  upon  the  great 
sleeping  mass  of  beings  within  them !  Hie  hammocks  were  slung  so  close  to  one  another  that 
thej  formed  a  perfect  floor  of  beds  on  either  side  of  the  vessel,  seeming  like  rows  of  canvas- 
boats.  But  one  or  two  of  the  prisoners  turned  on  their  sides  as  we  passed  along  the  deck, 
and  we  could  not  help  speculating,  as  we  went,  upon  the  nature  of  the  felon-dreams  of  those 
we  heard  snoring  and  half-moaning  about  us.  How  many,  thought  we,  are  with  their  friends 
onoe  more,  enjoying  an  ideal  liberty ! — ^how  many  are  enacting  or  planning  some  brutal 
robbery ! — ^how  many  suffering,  in  imagination,  the  last  peuaity  of  their  crimes ! — ^how  many 
weeping  on  their  mother's  breast,  and  promising  to  abandon  their  evil  courses  for  ever ! — and 
to  how  many  was  sleep  an  utter  blank — a  blessed  annihilation  for  a'while  to  their  life-long 
miseries! 

The  convicts  here  arranged  were  flrst-class  men — ^there  being  mamfest  advantages  in  the 
top  deck  over  the  middle  and  lower  ones,  as  shown  by  Mr.  Bossy,  in  his  report  on  the 
*'Waxbiotl*'  hulk,  in  1841*.  We  followed  the  warder  towards  the  stem  of  the  ship ;  and,  at 
the  extremity  of  this  deck,  we  crossed  a  grating,  and  reached  the  hatchway  leading  to  the 
middle  deck. 

The  middle  deck  was  arranged  on  the  same  plan  as  that  of  the  top  one ;  excepting  that 
the  passage  between  the  swinging  hammocks  was  wider.  Here  129  men  were  sleeping  in 
the  divisions  or  wards  called  E  1,  £2;  Bl,  B  2.  {Seephfif-g,  211.)  Here,  too,  the  officer  was 
parading  between  the  wards  or  cages,  and  splashing  about  chloride  of  lime  that  stood  in 
backets  between  the  wards.  It  was  still  very  dark;  and  the  groaning,  coughing,  and  yawning 
of  tibe  deeping  and  waking  prisoners,  had  anything  but  a  cheerful  effect  on  the  mind.     The 


*'  A  Staidont  of  the  Number  of  Prisonen  sent  to  the  Hospital,  from  the  1st  of  October,  1840,  to  the 
10th  May,  1841,  inolosiye ;  showing  the  Deck  to  which  thej  helonged,  and  the  mortality  from  each:  — 


Decks, 

Daily  averaee 

Kumber  of 

Men. 

Total  Number 

sent  to 
the  Hospital. 

T,  .              Total  Number 
Rate                      Qf 

percent.              jj^^^hs. 

Bate 
per  Gent. 

Top     •        • 

IfidcUe 

Lower 

Total      . 

132 
192 
284 

48 
134 
172 

36                         6 
70            ;            16 

60i          1            12 

3-7 
7-8 
4-2 

608 

354 

68            1            32 

6-2 

**  The  smaller  proportion  of  illness  among  the  prisonen  on  the  upper  deck  is  readily  explained  by  their 
exemption  from  depressing  causes. 

"  Aocoiding  to  the  present  system  of  classification,  all  prisoners  newly  arriycd  who  are  still  smarting 
nnder  tiie  pain  of  diagrace  and  separation  from  their  homes,  and  have  not  yet  recovered  from  the  anxiety, 
sorere  diadpline,  and  spare  diet  endured  in  jail ;  all  whose  transportation  is  for  a  long  term  of  years  or  for 
hStf  and  aU  whose  character  and  conduct  are  bad,  remain  the  tenants  of  the  lower  deck ;  but  if  the  prisoner's 
sentence  be  short,  and  his  character  and  conduct  good,  ho  may  in  three  months  be  raised  to  the  middle  deck, 
and  in  twelve  months  to  the  upper  deck,  where  if  he  once  arrives,  there  is  a  strong  expectation  he  will  not 
leave  the  country ;  he  feels  he  has  the  confidence  of  the  officers ;  and  a  cheerful  hope  of  regaining  his  home 
aostains  and  restores  a  healthy  vigour  to  body  and  mind. 

'^  If  a  Umg-sentencod  prisoner  is  the  subject  of  scrofula,  of  ulcer,  of  scurvy,  of  general  infirmity,  or  of  any 
eanse  nnfitting  him  for  the  voyage,  he  will  become  by  good  conduct  an  inmate  of  the  middle  deck,  and  will 
remain  there  for  several  years ;  so  that  we  gradually  acquire  an  accumulation  of  invalids  on  this  deck,  and 
this  ia  one  reason  of  the  frequent  deaths  of  its  inhabitants. 

"  The  upper  deck  is  much  drier,  being  farther  removed  fVom  the  surface  of  the  river ;  and,  being  more 
fully  exposed  to  the  sun,  is  hotter  than  the  rest  The  large  size  of  its  porta  also  affords  better  ventilation."— 
IMM  B^fort,  by  F.  Bouy,  iwf^ton  to  ^^J^  TFarrhry"  for  1841. 


210  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

air  -was  close  and  unpleasant,  but  not  remarkably  so,  considmng  that  it  had  been  exhausted 
by  the  breaOi  of  so  many  men  since  nine  o'clock  on  the  previous  night,  when  they  turned  in. 
We  had  still  another  deck  to  visit;  so  we  followed  our  warder  and  deacended  the  hatch- 
way to  the  lower  deck,  which  was  higher,  and  had  a  broader  passage  than  the  two  upper  ones 
through  which  we  had  just  passed.  This  deck  waa  arranged  to  accommodate  only  240  men ; 
bnt,  at  the  time  of  our  yisit,  it  contained  (mly  a  190  sleepen,  arranged  in  seotionB  thiu. 


SECTIONAL  VIBW  OF  TB£  IHTERIOS  OF  THE  "DEFENCE"  HULK. 

F  1,  F  2,  and  F  3,  on  one  side,  and  C  1,  C  2,  and  C  3  ontheo^er.  {Stepian,  p.  211.) 
This  spacious  deck  stretches  right  under  the  fore-part  of  the  poop,  the  barred  port-holes 
admitting  hnt  little  light ;  still  the  air  is  fireshet  than  in  the  decks  above,  which  receive  the 
ascending  heat  from  tho  1 90  sleepers ;  for,  by  means  of  brood  openings  in  the  stem  and  bowa 
of  the  ship,  a  constant  stream  of  fresh  air  is  carried  through  the  vessel.  Altogether  thero 
were,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  424  convicts  stowed  between  the  decks. 

The  men  seem  to  be  comfortably  covered,  having  two  blankets  and  a  rag  each. 
The  tables  used  for  meals  are  unshipped,  and  lean  against  the  bars  of  the  passage  ;  the  men's 
boots  are  under  their  hammocks,  and  their  clothes  lie  upon  the  benches. 

Having  passed  throitgh  this  gloomy  scene  we  reach  a  narrow  white- washed  passage,  at  tlic 
head  of  the  lower  deck,  and  entering  by  a  side  door,  we  come  to  the  solitary  cells.  We 
follow  the  buU's-eye  carried  by  the  warder.  Presently  he  stops,  and  placing  his  lantern 
against  a  rude  opening  in  the  bulkhead,  tlirows  its  %ht  upon  a  man  in  one  of  the  cella 
vitlun,  who  is  sentenced  to  "forty-eight  hours."    Having  inspected  Uio  sleeper,  whoislying 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH. 


211 


Jiaddled  in  hia  brown  rug  upon  the  groxind,  for  there  are  no  hammocks  allowed  in  this 
oelly  he  darkens  the  place  once  more  and  proceeds  to  the  second. 

In  solitary  cell  No.  2,  the  man  is  sleeping  in  his  hammock,  and  the  scuttle  is  not 
darkened.  As  the  light  from  the  bull's-eye  falls  upon  his  face,  the  prisoner  blinks  his  eyes, 
and  callsy  **  All  right !"  as  he  rolls  in  his  bed. 

We  now  pass  on  to  a  cell  in  the  bows  of  the  ship.    Here  the  hammock  hides  the  man's  face 


/ 

\ 

/  '■* 

AJB    \ 

/              UPTD 

OKK             j 

Pll 

A.X 

1  '■  ■ 

\           m 

a.           I 

\- 

Q         1 

\ 

H      / 

yv 

/ 

\- 

1      / 

V 

K    / 

PLAHB  OP  THB  DECKS  OF  THE  « DEFENCE'*  HULK. 


(TkA  Icttcn  and  flgUM  A  1,  A  S,  D  1,  D  2,  ftc  rafer  to  Uie  leTeral  wards  on  the  different  decks ;  O  Indicates  the  Schoolmaster, 
H  Chief  WardOT,  I  Clerk,  K  Steward,  L  L  L  L  Depaty  Goremor,  H  Chaplain,  N  N  Principal  Warder,  O  O  Warders* 


from  our  Yiew,  so  we  adTance  across  immense  white- washed  timbers  or  '*  knees,"  that  stand 
up  as  solid  as  milestones,  and  so  on  to  the  opposite  c^  in  the  bows.  This  one  is  empty ; 
but  the  next  contains  a  prisoner  who  is  in  for  three  days,  on  bread  and  water,  for  re:l^ising 
to  work  in  the  boats.  We  then  return  to  the  lower  deck,  through  a  door  at  the  opposite 
side  to  that  at  which  we  entered  the  solitary  cell-passage.  There  are  five  such  cells  in  all — 
two  on  either  side,  and  one  in  the  bows. 

As  we  re-entered  the  lower  deck,  we  found  the  lamp-man  (a  conyict),  in  a  gray  Scotch 
cap,  blowing  out  the  lamps.  He,  together  with  the  oooks'  and  officers'  servants,  are  let  out 
a  little  before  the  general  call- time ;  their  services  being  necessary  before  the  prisoners  are 
roused  at  half-past  five  o'clock,  and  the  day's  business  begins.* 

The  deep-toned  bell  against  the  forecastle  now  sounded  three  bells.  The  men  had  been 
expecting  the  unwelcome  sound;  for,  a  few  minutes  before,  as  we  traversed  the  lower 
deek  to  examine  the  air-passages  and  ventilators,  we  saw  heads  popped  up  here  and  there 
from  the  dingy  hammocks  to  have  a  peep  at  us  as  we  passed.  The  usual  hour  for  rising 
was  evidently  at  hand.  The  effect  of  the  bell,  however,  was  astonishing.  In  a  minute 
scores  and  scores  of  men  tumbled  out  of  their  beds,  and  were  wriggling  and  stretching 
themselves  in  their  blue  shirts. 

*'  All  up !  Turn  out,  men ! "  cries  the  officer ;  and  the  convicts  are  in  their  trousers  in 
an  inconceivably  short  time. 

*  We  here  publiah  a  table  citing  the  distribution  of  time  on  board  the  hiUk,  extracted  from  the  Report 
«f  the  DiTocton  of  Convict  Prieons.    This  table,  however,  can  give  no  definite  idea  of  the  work  really  per- 
16 


212 


THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


'*  Let  116  go  to  the  top  deck^  and  we  shall  see  how  the  hammocks  are  lashed^"  suggests 
our  warder;  and  on  ascending  to  the  upper  decks  we  find  many  of  the  men  already 
dressed,  and  with  their  hammocks  lashed  up  like  huge  sausages. 

Presently  the  gates  were  opened,  and  the  men  turned  out  one  after  anofiier,  carrying 
their  bolster-like  beds  on  their  shoulders. 

*'  Now  men,  go  on  there !  steady — steady  !*'  exclaims  the  officer.  "  Gome  on,  men ! 
Come  on,  the  rest  of  you ! "  he  shouts  as  we  reach  the  forecastle.  The  men  appear  in  single 
file,  some  carrying  one  hammock  and  others  two.  Those  who  carry  two  have,  in  addition 
to  their  own  bed,  that  of  a  fellow-prisoner,  who  remains  below  to  forward  other  work. 
Some  of  the  men  are  fully  dressed  in  their  brown  striped  convict's  suit ;  while  others  are  in 
their  blue  shirt  sleeyes.  The  officers  continue  shouting  to  the  men,  and  hastening  their 
movements.     '*  Come  on  with  that  hammock !    Come  on  now ! " 

Long  lines  of  men,  with  their  hammocks  upon  their  shoulders,  wind  along  the  decks. 
The  sides  of  the  black  hammock-houses  are  open,  discovering  lettered  compartments,  as  A  1, 
A  2,  B  1,  &o,;  and  the  warders  on  duty  go  into  the  houses,  and  see  the  hammocks  stowed, 
as  the  prisoners  deliver  them,  under  their  proper  letters,  varying  the  work  by  directions,  as 

fonned,  nor  of  the  regularity  with  which  five  hundred  men  axe  made  to  oonform  to  certain  houn,  in  the 
minutest  particular. 

THB  DAILY  DieTRIBUTIOK  OF  TDCB  ON  BOABD  THX  '*  DBFEKOl^'  HTTLK. 


Ooeapetioii. 


Prisoners  rise,  wash,  and  roU 
up  hammocks 

Break&st   (officers   and    ser- 
vants)   

Cleaning  classes 

In  readiness  to  turn  out  to) 
work  (preparing  the  boats,  ^ 
ftc.) ) 

Labour,  including  landing  and  ^ 
msTohing  to  and  £h>m  work-  > 
ing  ground ) 

Dinner  for  officers  and  pri- 
soners   

Labour,  including  mustcoing^ 
and  marohing  to  and  fh>m  > 
working  ground ) 

Prisoners  are  mustered,  wash, ) 
and  prepare  for  supper  . . . .  ) 

Supper,  washing-np,  ic  .... 

Evening  prayers,  school,  and^ 
those  not  at  school  repairing  r 
clothing,  &c.,  mustered  in- 1 
termediatelj  / 

Sling  hammo<ucs     

Allmbed  


! 


In  Sommer  (longest  day).  In  Winter  (tliortest  day). 

(In  intermediate  leaaont,  the  honre  vary  aoeording  to  light). 


1 


▲.X. 

▲.X.      Hri.  Min. 

6    SO 

6      0  =  0     30 

6      0 

6     80  =  0     30 

6    30 

7     16  =  0    45 

7    16 

7    30  =  0    15 

7  30    12noon=4  30 
12  noon    1  p.m.  =  1  0 

ip.K.      6    30=4  30 

6    30      6      0  =  0  80 

6      0      6    46  =  0  46 

6    46      8    30  =  1  46 

8  30      9      0  =  0  30 

9  0 

Total  ftom  


I 


6.30  A.]!,  to  8.0  p.H.  16    30 


A.M. 


▲.K.      Hrs.  Min. 


6  30  6  0  =  0  30 

6  0  6  30  =  0  30 

6  30  7  16  =  0  46 

7  15  7  30  =  0  16 


7    30    12noon=4    30 


12  noon    1  p.m.  =  1      0 


1  P.IL 


0  =  3 


4      0      4  46  =  0  46 

4    46      6  30  =  0  46 

6  30      7  30  =  2  0 

7  30      8  0  =  0  30 

8  0 
Totslfrom 


6.80A.ic.to8.0p.H.  14    30 


ABiTEULCT  OP  THB  ABOTB. 


Meals    2  16 

Labour,  including  mustering,  and  moTing  to  and  )  o  a 

from ) 

In-door  oocnpiution,  erening  instruction,  &c,  ftc. . .  4  16 

In  Summer 16  30 


2  16 
7  80 
4    46 


InWinter....  14    30 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  218 

'*  ShoTe  that  a  bit  forwaid  there.    Now  then,  stow  away  there^  my  lads — stow  away !    Do 
you  beloog  here  P    Howoameyousolatef' 

''AnymoreG  1  ?    Is  thatthelastof  G  1?    Now  then,  come  on,  lads !    Moyeup!" 

**  We  get  the  whole  ship  np  and  stowed  in  half  an  hour/'  said  onr  warder.  ''  The  bell 
went  at  half-past  five,  and  yon'U  see,  sir,  we'll  have  all  the  hammocks  np  by  six.'' 

Still  the  brown  line  of  men  moved  forward  to  the  hammock-honses,  each  hammock  bear- 
ing the  prisoner's  registered  nnmber  stitched  npon  it,  and  with  the  word  ''Defence"  printed 
on  the  canyas. 

The  prisoners  continne  to  pour  ont  as  we  descend  again  between  the  decks,  and  find  that 
many  hare  got  the  tables  shipped  against  the  bars,  and  the  benches  ranged  beside  them. 
Kow  some  of  the  men  are  washing  in  buckets,  placed  ready  over  night ;  and  others  arrang- 
ing their  hair  by  the  reflection  of  the  window-pane;  and  others,  again,  scrubbing  th^ 
tables  ready  for  breakfast.  Everything  and  everybody  seem  to  be  undergoing  a  cleansing 
process  more  or  less  searching. 

We  next  proceeded  once  more  to  the  deck  below,  following  our  guide.  The  scene  was 
a  busy  one.  Some  of  the  prisoners  were  still  combing  their  hair ;  others  were  washing 
the  deck  boards,  which  were  shining  under  the  plentiM  supply  of  water;  others,  again, 
-were  covering  the  white  deal  tables  (which  are  scrubbed  also  every  morning)  with  painted 
canvas  taUe-eloths ;  then  there  were  groups  of  men,  down  on  one  knee,  brushing  their 
boots,  while  the  messmen  were  busy  at  the  preparations  for  breakfast.  The  tables,  ranged 
in  a  row  along  the  wards,  accommodate  eight  prisoners  each.  Each  man  takes  his  turn  as 
messman,  while  the  service  of  the  ward  is  divided. 

All  the  breakfast  things  are  in  block-tin,  and  they  glisten  as  though  they  had  never  been 
used.  Some  of  the  men  have  polished  theirs  over-night,  and  tied  them  up  in  handkerchiefs, 
to  give  themselves  a  little  extra  time  in  the  morning.  ''Where's  your  plates  ?  Where's 
your  plates  ?"  cry  the  messmen.  Eor  water,  one  prisoner  at  a  time  is  let  out  of  each  ward, 
and  as  soon  as  he  returns  another  is  allowed  to  go  on  deck. 

The  various  processes,  collectively  called  getting-up,  may  now  be  said  to  be  complete, 
and  the  prisoners  are  all  fairly  padlocked  in  their  wards,  under  the  eye  of  a  single  warder. 
After  dx  o'clock  in  the  morning,  however,  there  are  two  of&cers  upon  the  lower  deck  till 
nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  men  turn  in.  The  costume^of  the  prisoners,  as  we 
now  see  them  completely  dressed,  is  the  same  as  that  worn  at  Pentonville,  viz.,  rusty  brown, 
with  red  stripes  upon  it. 

The  chief  warder  enters  and  inquires  whether  all  are  up.  "  All  up !"  is  the  answer,  as 
the  men  give  the  military  salute.  "  There  you  see,  sir,"  said  our  attendant,  as  four  beUa 
(six  o'clock)  rang,  "  all  the  hammocks  are  on  deck,  and  the  men  are  locked  up,  as  I  said  they 
would  be." 

The  first  business  of  the  morning  being  over,  the  men  break  into 'groups  or  read.  Many 
a  one,  to  our  astonishment,  took  his  Bible  and  began  reading  it  with  no  little  earnestness. 
Here  an  altercation  ensued  between  two  prisoners  about  the  tins,  which  one  of  them 
was  still  cleaning.  This  was  promptly  suppressed  by  a  cry  of  "  Halloa !  What  are  you 
about  there,  losing  your  temper  ?  " 

At  this  time,  too,  the  doctor's  mate  appeared,  carrying  a  wooden  tray  covered  with 
physic  bottles  and  boxes  of  salve,  and  followed  by  an  officer  holding  a  paper  containing  the 
«  invalid  list."    This  officer  checks  the  distribution  of  the  medicine. 

%♦  Ofic&rt*  DuiiS9, — ^The  ship  now  begins  to  wear  an  animated  appearance ;  for  at  six 
o^dock  the  officers,  chief  warders,  and  cooks  come  on  board,  all  those  we  had  seen  previously 
having  been  on  duty  throughout  the  night.  The  officers  at  the  hulk  are  arranged  into 
divisions,  the  first  mustering  20  men,  and  the  second  19  men*  In  answer  to  our  inquiries 
on  ihu  sabject,  our  attendant  said— 
15» 


214  THE  OSEAT  WOBLU  OF  LOKDOS. 

*'  Theresa  twenir  in  fiist  divifflon.  And  nineteen  in  second  divifdony  and,  in  addition  to  thei^ 
the  chief  warder  and  two  principal  warders.  Twenty  officers  sleep  on  board  one  night, 
nineteen  the  next.  To  the  first  dlTision  there  is  one  principal  and  the  deputy-goyemor, 
while  the  second  division  is  commanded  by  the  chief  warder,  and  one  of  the  principal 
warders.  Well,  the  first  division  came  on  dnty  yesterday  at  seven  a.m.,  and  will  go  off  duty 
abont  six  o'clock  to-night.  It's  a  very  long  sketch.  The  officers  came  on  duty  at  half-past 
six  this  morning,  and  will  remain  on  dnty  till  six  o'clock  this  evening.  They  will  be  on 
their  legs  all  the  time.  They  will  not  have  more  than  twenty  to  twenty-five  minutes  to  get 
their  dumer.  It's  not  only  one  day,  but  every  day  the  same  thing.  They're  on  their  legs 
all  day  long,  for  they  are  not  allowed  to  sit  down.  The  first  night-watch  comes  on  at  eight 
p.ic.,  and  remains  on  duty  till  half- past  ten.  The  second  watch  comes  on,  and  remains  till  one. 
Then  he  is  relieved  by  the  third  watch,  who  remains  tUl  half-past  three — ^the  fourth  watch 
doing  duty  till  six  o'clock.  Kow  the  watch  that's  just  relieved  will  have  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  to  wash  and  shave,  for  the  officers  muster  at  a  quarter-past  six.  So  you  see  there's 
not  much  time  lost*  The  breakfast  is  served  down  at  half -past  six.  This  occupies  till  a 
quarter  to  seven.  From  a  quarter  to  seven  till  a  quarter  past,  the  warders  are  at  liberty  ; 
but  during  this  time  they  must  breakfast,  dean  themselves,  brush  their  buttons  and  the 
crowns  upon  their  collars,  and  be  on  deck  to  parade  at  the  quarter-past  seven.  Then  they 
turn  to  the  labour.  They're  just  going  to  muster  the  prisoners.  Perhaps  you'll  like  to 
see  them." 

%*  Muiter  and  Breakfad,  Diet,  Sfe, — ^We  went  down  once  more  between  decks.  The 
muster  of  the  prisoners  had  just  commenced.  Two  officers  were  occupied  in  the  wards. 
The  prisoners  were  all  ranged  behind  the  tables — ''  Silence !  keep  silence  there !"  shouted  an 
officer ;  and  then,  while  one  officer  called  the  names  of  the  prisoners,  the  other  marked  down 
the  absentees  upon  a  slate.  As  each  name  was  called,  the  man  owning  it  responded,  ''  Yessir," 
accompanying  his  reply  with  a  military  salmte.  The  replies  of  "  Yessir,"  in  every  variety 
of  voice,  ran  along  the  wards. 

This  ceremony  over,  the  registering  officers  retirM,  and  the  warder  on  duty  padlocked 
the  men  in  once  more.  We  then  went  to  see  the  muster  of  the  absentees — as  the  cooks, 
bakers,  and  the  like— which  was  carried  on  in  the  same  way  as  with  the  prisoners  in  the 
wards,  only  each  absentee^  as  he  cried,  "  Yessir,"  and  saluted,  passed  out,  to  return  to  the 
duty  from  which  he  had  been  for  the  moment  withdrawn. 

"  There  you  see,  now^"  jsudd  our  attendant,  ''  every  man  in  the  ship  has  answered  to 
his  name." 

"  All  correct,  or !"  said  the  registering  warder  to  the  chief. 

"  Kow,  then,  A  ward !  **  was  shouted  down  the  hatcbway. 

''  This  is  A  ward,  sir,"  said  our  attendant,  "  coming  up  for  breakfast." 

Instantly  four  of  the  convicts  appeared,  following  one  another.  ''  That's  for  A  ward.** 
''B  ward!"  was  next  shouted  down.  ''Now,  then,  B  ward  here !*'  And  in  this  way  the 
messmen  of  the  various  wards  were  simmioned  from  their  decks,  to  fetch  the  breakfasts  of 
their  comrades,  the  messmen  of  each  deck  appearing  at  different  hatchways ;  for  it  may  be 
here  observed  that  there  is  a  separate  hatchway  for  each  floor  of  the  vessel. 

The  messmen  were  now  seen  moving  along  in  file  towards  the  diip's  galley,  and 
presently  they  re-appeared,  each  man  carrying  a  large  beer-can  frill  of  cocoa,  the  bread 
being  taken  down  in  baskets,  and  served  out  by  the  officers  at  the  ward-doors. 

At  half-past  six  the  doctor  comes  on  board,  when  an  officer  goes  round  shouting  in 
the  wards,  ''  Any  men  to  see  the  doctor?"  Six  men  appear  in  answer,  and  are  formed  in 
line  near  the  galley-door.  They  are  ushered  one  by  one  into  the  little  suigery,  and  here, 
if  the  case  is  considered  at  aU  serious,  a  trap-door  is  opened,  and  they  are  passed  at  once 
down  into  a  little  separate  room  underneath,  prepared  with  ''  bath  and  other  convenience." 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH. 


215 


Ifine-tenths  of  the  calls  for  medical  aflsutance,  however,  are  dismiflsed  as  MtoIoub,  such  call 
hemg  looked  upon  with  great  soflpidon,  as  generally  evincmg  a  desire  to  avoid  a  day's  labour 
in  the  arsenal. 

While  remarking  the  six  applicants  for  medical  assistance,  we  also  noticed  four  men 
drawn  up  in  a  line  at  the  end  of  the  main  deck,  attended  by  an  officer.  These  were 
''reported"  men,  about  to  answer  for  some  infraction  of  prison  rules. 

We  now  followed  the  chief  warder  below,  to  see  the  men  at  breakfast.  ''  Are  the  messes 
all  right?"  he  called  out  as  he  reached  the  wards. 

*'  Keep  silence  there!  keep  silence !"  shouted  the  officer  on  duty. 

The  men  were  all  ranged  at  their  tables  with  a  tin  can  frill  of  cocoa  before  them,  and 
a  piece  of  dry  bread  beside  them,  the  messmen  having  just  poured  out  the  cocoa  from  the 
huge  tin  vessel  in  which  he  received  it  from  the  cooks  ;  and  the  men  then  proceed  to 
eat  thor  breakfast  in  silence,  the  munching  of  the  dry  bread  l^  the  hundreds  of  jaws  being 
the  only  sound  heard.* 

After  this  we  returned  to  where  the  reported  prisoners  were  drawn  up,  facing  the 
govemor^s  house,  upon  the  quarter-deck.  They  were  called  into  the  office  one  by  one ;  and 
as  the  second  man  was  called,  the  first  re-appeared,,  and  was  marched  off  between  two 
gfficers  to  a  solitary  cell. 

'*  This  is  my  report  for  yesterday ;  I  give  one  in  every  morning,"  said  the  officer  attend- 
ing us,  as  he  went  to  hand  the  document  in,  together  with  a  "  cell  report,"  stating  the  number 
of  prisoners  under  punishment,  the  days  they  had  done,  &c. 

Next  our  attention  was  directed  to  the  convict  boatmen,  who  were  preparing  to  take  the 
ship's  messenger  ashore. 

"  They  have  already  heeta  on  shore  this  morning,"  continued  our  persevering  informant, 
to  bring  off  the  cook  and  chief  warder.  ''  That's  the  hospital  cutter,  sir,"  and  our  friend 
pointed  to  a  little  boat,  rowed  by  two  prisoners  in  their  brown  suits,  and  carrying  three  or 
four  warders  in  the  stem. 

'*  Now,  sir,  our  boat's  just  going  aboard  the  '  Unset ' "  (for  such  is  the  general  pro- 
ntinciation  of  the  French  name).  ''  Sere  is  our  sick  report,  sir,  for  the  day,"  he  continued, 
showing  us  the  document.  ''  It  is  delivered  in  every  morning.^  There  are  only  two  men 
on  it  now.    One,  you  see,  requires  light  labour,  and  tiiie  other  'loiw  diet.'  " 

At  this  moment  a  dashing  little  boat,  with  her  stem  seats  cushioned,  and  rowed  by  four 
men,  puUing  long  oars,  appeared  at  the  gangway. 

'*  This  is  the  gig,  sir,  to  take  the  doctor  away." 

The  officers  now  b^ia  to  exhibit  great  activity,  while  the  men  below  are  cleaning 
their  tables  and  tins — ^having  finished  their  morning's  meal. 

*'  That  boat  won't  be  back  in  time  unless  she's  hailed,"  said  one  officer,  looking  towards 
tiie  shore.    '^  It  only  wants  a  few  minutes  to  seven,  now." 


«  The  following  is  the  Scale  ofj^Diet  on  board  the  '*  Dbfemob"  Hulk. 

BBBAXVA8T  (PSB  ICAlf). 

12  Onnoea  of  Bread. 


1  Pint  of  Cocoa. 

mionnL  (fbb  icak). 

6  Ounoea  of  Meat. 
1  Ponnd  of  Potatoes. 
9  Onnoes  of  Bxead. 

sxrvpEB 

1  Pint  of  Grnel. 
6  Ounces  of  Bread. 


Soup  Days: — Wednesdays,  Mondays,  and 
Fridays,  when  the  dinner  stands  thus  : — 1  pint  of 
soup,  5  ounces  of  meat,  1  pound  of  potatoea^  and 
9  ounces  of  bread. 

The  bread,  potatoes,  Ac,  are  serred  by  con- 
tract 

OUVXL  DIET. 

1  pint  of  gruel  and  9  ounces  of  bread  for 
breakfast,  dinner,  and  snpper—serred  when  men 
are  on  the  sick  list,  in  the  hulk. 

PUKISHICXNT  niBT. 

1  pound  of  bread  per  day,  and  water. 


216  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDOIT. 

Anotiber  boat  now  pulled  towards  the  eihipy  rowed  by  men  weaiiiig  gaenueyBy  maiked 
«  Dbfencb/'  and  glazed  bats  that  had  numbers  stamped  upon  them. 

''Be  as  quick  as  you  can,  Matthews/'  shouted  one  of  the  (^cenn— '4t'8  only  five 
minutes.    Look  sharp." 

The  boat,  as  directed,  went  off  to  the  long  brown  boats,  and  brought  them  alongside  the 
gangway,  to  take  the  prisoners  off  to  their  ''hard  labour"  in  the  arsenal. 

"  They're  going  to  take  the  ofioers  firsts"  said  our  attendant.  **  The  eeoond  diTision's  just 
coming  on  duty  now,  sir."  And  glancing  to  the  shore,  by  the  side  of  the  bright  little 
arsenal  pier,  we  could  peroeive  a  dark  group  of  officers,  standing  near  the  landing  steps — 
carrying  bundles  in  handkerohie& — ^their  glazed  eaps  and  bright  butt(NQ8  sparkling  in  the 
sunHght  as  they  moved  about.  "  The  boats  axe  raOier  behindhand,  lor  the  priaonerB 
should  be  all  in  them  at  the  first  stroke  of  seven*" 

Nine  bells  (seven  o'dock)  sounded,  as  we  went  onoe  more  bdow,  and  fbond  that  the 
men  had  just  finished  deaning  their  tin  mugs,  and  were  gathering  up  the  bits  of  ehalk  into 
bags,  and  arranging  these  same  mugs  on  top  of  the  inverted  plates,  round  their  tables  ready  for 
dinner.  Some,  too,  were  washing  the  tables  again,  to  get  beforehand  with  their  work; 
while  others  were  covering  their  bright  tin  plates  and  mugs  with  the  coarse  table  oLotfas,  to 
keep  the  dirt  from  them ;  and  others,  again,  were  reading  their  Bibles,  or  lounging  laziLy 
about. 

"They  know  to  a  minute  the  time  they  have,  sir;  and  the  offloers  are  as  severely  taught 
to  obey  the  progress  of  the  dock,  for  if  they  are  not  at  the  landing  steps  at  seven  predsely, 
the  boat  pushes  off  without  them,  and  will  not  return  to  fetch  them." 

The  boat  that  had  gone  to  bring  the  warders  aboard  was  soon  on  its  way  baok  to  the  ship, 
crowded  with  the  glazed  caps  and  dark  uniformB  of  the  offloers,  relieved  by  the  fresh  white 
guernseys  of  the  convict  rowers. 

Seven  o'dook  is  the  hour  for  the  offloers'  parade  upon  the  quarter-deck ;  the  object  being 
to  see  that  they  are  aU  sober  and  fit  for  duty.  The  parade  over,  the  guazd  appears  on  deek. 
It  consists  of  four  men,  armed  with  carbines,  and  with  iheir  cartoudie  boxes  slung  behind 
them  by  a  broad  black  belt.  This  guard  stands  neaf  the  gangway ;  the  men  having  their 
carbines  loaded,  and  held  ready  to  fire,  while  the  prisoners  pass  to  the  boats. 

Looking  overboard,  we  now  peroeive  the  convict  boatmen,  in  their  guernseys  and  glazed 
hats,  bringing  the  two  long-boats  to  their  proper  position  opposite  the  gangway,  ready  for 
the  debarcation  of  the  prisoners  on  their  way  to  their  work  at  the  arsenal. 

At  a  quarter-past  seven  the  offloers  for  duty  ashore  are  called  over  by  the  diief  warder, 
in  the  presence  of  the  deputy-governor,  while  a  principal  oheeks  them.  Twelve  extra  guarda, 
composed  chiefly  of  soldiers  from  the  Crimea,  and  some  wearing  dasps  upon  their  muxler'a 
uniform  (an  uniform,  by  the  way,  exactly  resembling  that  of  the  Pentonville  offloers),  now 
file  down  the  steps,  to  be  ready  to  receive  the  prisoners,  who  begin  to  appear  above  the 
hatchways,  marching  in  single  file  towards  the  gangway,  with  a  heavy  and  rapid  tread;  and 
it  is  an  exdting  sight  to  see  the  never-ending  line  of  convicts  stream  across  tihe  dedc,  and 
down  the  gangway,  the  steps  rattling,  as  they  descend  one  after  another  into  the  capadoua 
boat»  amid  the  cries  of  the  officer  at  the  ship's  side— ''Come,  look  sharp  there,  men! 
Look  sharp !" 

%*  l>ebareaium  of  Prifonen  far  Work  in  the  Artenal.'^The  rowers  hold  their  oars 
raised  in  the  air,  as  the  brown  line  of  men  flows  rapidly  into  the  cutter  bdow,  some  seat 
themsdves  in  the  stem,  but  the  large  majority  stand  in  a  dense  mass  in  the  bottom  of  the 
long  low  craft,  dotted  here  and  there  by  the  dark  dress  of  the  officers  planted  in  the  midst 
of  them.  In  fine  weather  no  less  than  1 10  convicts  are  landed  in  eadi  of  these  b^its  or 
cutters. 

It  is  pretty  to  watdi  these  long  boats  glide  dowly  to  the  pier,  their  dense  human  flwght 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  217 

painted  broimoiiflieBtieam.  And  scaoK^y  has  one  boat  landed  its  felon  crew,  before  another 
is  AUed,  and  makixig  for  the  arsenal  pier  and  the  shore.  {See  en^aoing,)  "Sgt  is  it  less  picta- 
reaqne  to  see  the  prisonflirs  olamber  up  to  the  parade  ground;  &11  in  line  there  with  military 
precision;  separate  according  to  the  chief  officer's  directions  into  worldng  parties  (each 
working  party  being  in  charge  of  a  warder) ;  and  move  off  to  the  scene  of  their  day's  labonr^ 
in  long  brown  strings.  This  is  a  very  cniions  scene,  and  one  that  it  will  be  impossible  to 
witness  some  few  years  hence. 

A  third  or  snrplns  small  outtiBr  puts  off  with  the  few  remaining  ptisoneFS,  and  more 
gaards.  These  guards,  we  obserre>  wear  cutlasses;  such  cutlasses  being  carried  as  a  spedal 
protection,  for  the  officers  wearing  them  have  charge  of  working  pacrtieB  employed  beyond  the 
boondB  of  the  arsenal ;  as,  for  instance,  upon  a  mortar  battery  in  the  marshes.  The  man  are 
now  off  to  work.  Those  prisoners  who  remain  in  the  ship  are  in  the  deck  cabins^  plying 
their  handicraft  for  ihe  use  of  the  hulk. 

We  now  left  the  hulk  in  the  deputy-gOTcmor's  gig,  vi  company  with  that  officer,  who 
acted  himself  as  steersman. 

''Kowthen,  shove  off!  Altogether!  Lay  (m  your  oars!  Sharp  as  you  can  !"  were 
the  brisk  orders;  and  as  we  neared  the  shore,  the  directions  to  the  men  ran,  ''Hold  water, 
all  of  you!    Poll  all!    Hard  a-starboard !    Port,  there!    Ship  oars!" 

The  men  obeyed  these  nautical  directions  with  admirable  precision,  and  soon  landed  us 
at  the  arsenal  stkirs,  amid  huge  stone  heaps,  piles  of  cannon  tumbled  about,  and  aill  bounded 
by  long  storehouses  and  workshops  that  seemed  to  cross  each  other  in  every  direction. 

We  accompanied  the  deputy-governor  in  his  inspection  of  the  gangs,  as  tiie  convict  crew 
stood  drawn  up  in  Unes,  headed  by  their  respective  officers.  It  is  necessary  to  change  and 
equalize  the  gangs  daily,  we  were  told,  according  to  the  work  each  has  to  perform.  Here 
tiie  officers  proceeded  to  search  under  the  men's  waistcoats,  and  to  examine  tiieir  neckcloths, 
00  as  to  prevent  the  secretion  of  clothes  about  their  persons,  which  would  enable  them  to 
disguise  themselves,  and  to  escape  am<mg  the  frqp  labourers.  Ko  less  than  seventeen  such 
attempts  to  escape  had  taken  place  amcmg  the  ''  Dxfbngx"  convicts  in  one  year,  though  out  of 
tiiese  only  three  got  off.  In  1854  there  were  five  attempts  at  escape,  of  which  but  one  was 
saccessM. 

The  searching  and  arrangement  of  the  working  parties  or  gangs  being  effected,  the  officer 
gives  the  word  of  command,  **  Cover !"  then,  ''  Pace— forward !"  and  each  gang  wheels  off 
to  the  direction  of  its  work,  the  men  walking  two  abreast,  and  the  rear  being  brought  up  by 
the  officer  in  charge. 

As  the  several  gangs  leave  the  parade-ground,  the  officer  in  charge  gives  the  number  of 
his  party,  and  that  of  his  men.  The  parties,  or  gangs,  are  numbered  &om  1  to  30.  Thus, 
as  one  party  passes,  the  officer  calls,  "  Two-— eight ;"  that  is,  party  No.  2,  containing  8  men. 

^*  Gloee  up !  close  up  your  party,  Matthews— they're  all  straggling !"  cries  the  deputy- 
governor  to  one  of  the  guards,  who  is  taking  off  his  men  somewhat  carelessly. 

Hie  arsenal  is  now  in  ftill  activity.  The  tall  chimneys  vomit  dense  clouds  of  black 
smoke;  steam  spurts  up  here  and  there ;  the  sharp  click  of  hammers  falling  upon  metal  can 
he  heard  on  all  sides;  the  men  are  beginning  to  roU  the  shells  along  the  miniature  railways 
laid  along  the  ground  for  the  purpose.  AU  the  gangs  of  prisoners  are  off,  leaving  a  dense 
eloud  of  dust  behind  them. 

There  are  299  in  the  arsenal  to-day,  the  deputy-governor  informs  us.  This  number  is 
added,  he  says,  to  the  ascertained  number  remaining  on  board  the  hulk;  and  then,  if  the  whole 
tally  with  the  number  registered  upon  tiie  governor's  books,  all  is  right. 

We  then  turned  our  attention  to  the  hulk  once  more,  and  re-entered  the  deputy- 
goveaor^s  gig.  As  we  were  jerked  through  the  water  by  the  regular  strokes  of  the  meii| 
and  the  measured  working  of  the  roUocks,  we  noticed  ^  heavy  cranes  planted  along  the 
quay— -flifiir  wheels  covered  wilji  small  rodb  like  paiasolsy  but  bearingi  neverfhelesBi  some 


218 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


evidences  of  exposure  to  the  weather.  "  "With  one  of  those  cranes,"  said  the  officer  to  us,  "  I 
have  seen  a  single  man  lift  a  cannon  on  board  a  ship.  They  are  worked  by  hydraulic  pressure." 
No  sooner  did  we  reach  the  gangway  of  the  **  Defence"  once  more,  than  the  principal 
warder  on  board  cried,  as  he  met  the  deputy-goyemor,  **  Two  hundred  and  ninety-nine^ 
sir !"  alluding  to  the  number  of  prisoners  who  had  left  the  ship  for  labour  in  the  arsensL 
"  AJl  right ! "  was  the  laconic  reply. 

%*  TTie  Library  and  School  at  the  Hulks. — ''Would  you  like  to  come  and  see  the  meat, 
sir?"  we  were  asked  by  our  attendant  officer.  ''  I  have  to  go."  The  steward  sees  to  the 
proper  weight,  while  the  deputy-governor  examines  the  quality  of  the  meat.  The  piece  we 
saw  was  an  enormous  leg  of  beef,  against  which  prodigious  weights  were  necessary  to  ascer- 
tain its  precise  value. 

The  prisoners  left  aboard  the  hulk  were  now  busy  washing  the  deck  and  the  gangway. 
Some  dashed  buckets  of  water  on  the  boards,  while  others  were  vigorously  plying  flat  scrub- 
bing-brushes, fixed  at  the  extremity  of  long  handles.  Below,  in  a  boat,  alongside  th^  hulk, 
were  more  brown  prisoners,  pumping  at  a  small  engine,  and  forcing  the  water,  taken  from 
the  Artesian-well  in  the  arsenal,  into  the  capacious  tanks  of  the  hulk.  There  is,  in  fact,  one 
continued  splashing  of  liquid  everywhere— on  the  decks,  and  in  the  long-boats,  or  cuttersy 
which  have  now  returned  from  the  shore.  The  "  Defence,"  we  may  add,  has  twenty 
tanks,  holding  two  tons  each  of  water. 

We  next  adjourned  to  the  governor's  comfortable  breakfast-room,  with  its  pretty  stem- 
windows,  and  its  light  blue  and  white  walls.  The  military  salute  of  the  convict-servant  who 
entered  from  time  to  time,  with  his  white  apron  about  his  loins,  was  the  only  reminisoenoe 
of  the  hulk  as  we  sat  at  the  morning  meal. 

After  this  we  visited  the  chapel  and  school-room.*    The  chapel  is  a  square  apartment, 


*  TABULAR  STATBMENT  OF  SCHOOL  FBOGBB88  AT  THB  ''dBFBNCB"  HULK,  DUBINO  THB  TBAB  1854. 


Date  of  Eeception. 

•** 

o 
a  ' 

1 

learned  to  read 
erfectly. 

• 

§ 

learned  to  read 
rite  imperfectly. 

Bead  and  write  im- 
perfectly. 

learned  to  read 
write  well. 

considerable  pro- 
se in  arithmetic. 

• 

1 

§ 

! 

Total. 

o 
O 

QQ 

1 

(23 

is 

IS, 

•3 

1 

• 

February  11,  1854     - 

12 

5 

4 

4 

16 

»        24      ,.        -        - 

— 

^^ 

_ 

5 

2 

1 

1 

... 

6 

March  13           ,,        .        . 

... 

._ 

4 

4 

14 

5 

4 

5 

1 

24 

,1      24           „        .        - 

1 

^.. 

2 

2 

7 

3 

5 

2 

2 

14 

April  20             „ 

2 

3 

3 

16 

7 

10 

5 

;4 

80 

May  2                „ 

6 

5 

1 

I 

16 

5 

7 

5 

28 

n      4                 „         -         - 

3 

3 

_ 

_ 

3 

1 

6 

3 

2 

11 

Julyl 

7 

5 

6 

6 

7 

3 

8 

25 

.^ 

45 

August  11          ?)        '        - 

2 

2 

1 

1 

3 

— 

4 

4 

— 

10 

,.       U         „        -        . 

2 

1 

2 

1 

2 

4 

3 

1 

10 

October  9         „        -        - 

2 

_- 

— . 

_ 

— 

- 

... 

.1.. 

... 

•      2 

„      11          „        -        - 

13 

w^. 

3 

_ 

18 

. 

5 

13 

m^^ 

47 

Noyember  2      „        -        - 

7 

.^ 

... 

^_ 

13 

_^, 

3 

8 

1 

28 

December  19     „ 

6 

ii.^ 

— 

i.. 

5 

._ 

4 

7 

_ 

18 

„        23     „        -        - 
Totals 

1 

— 

— 

— 

4 

— 

2 

4 



9 

62 

16 

22 

18 

125 

31 

67 

89t 

lOt 

298 

— \ 

t  The  prisoners  who  could  "  read  and  write  "  well,  and  those  who  were  "  weU  educated  "  on  reception, 
haye  since  made  considerable  adyancement  in  arithmetic  and  the  lower  branches  of  the  mathematics. 


'I! 


M 

hit.  ijji 

M 

■id 


«|i!     iiil''3 


M 


THE  HTJIKS  IT  WOOLWICH.  219 

lidnuiBbly  ammged  fbir  its  ptupose,  the  part  on  the  level  with  the  top  deck  fonning  the 
gallerieBy  to  which  the  prisonerB  on  that  deck  pass  direct  from  their  wards,  while  the  hody 
of  the  Httie  ohurch  is  even  with  the  middle  deck,  and  accommodates  the  rest  of  the  prisoners. 

The  pulpit  is  erected  at  the  stem  end  of  the  chapel,  hetween  the  two  decks,  and  has  a 
faiight  hrasB  reading  lamp  to  it ;  its  cushions  being  coyered  with  canvas..  Four  more  lamps 
are  suspended  firom  the  ceiling,  the  whole  of  the  wood-work  being  painted  to  imitate  oak. 
It  is  in  the  body  of  this  chapel  that  the  black,  slanting  desks,  with  inkstand  holes  (the  very 
modelB  of  those  which  all  boys  remember  with  horror),  are  ranged  for  the  daily  school. 

At  the  side  of  the  pulpit  is  the  prison  library.  The  selection  of  books  is  suggestive. 
Let  ns  run  over  a  few  titles  culled  from  the  backs  of  the  volumes — **  Maroef  s  Conversations 
on  Katural  Philosophy,"  '^  Paley's  works,"  "  The  Pursuit  of  Knowledge  under  Difficul- 
ties,*' Sturm's  "  Eeflections  on  the  Works  of  God,"  '*  Persian  Stories,"  "  Eecreations  in 
Physical  Geography,"  "The  Bites  and  Worship  of  the  Jews,"  ''The  Penny  London 
Beader,"  '<  Pirst  Sundays  at  Church,"  "  Stories  from  the  History  of  Bome,"  <'  Short 
Stories  firom  the  History  of  Spain,"  ''Swiss  Stories,"  "Scenes  fix>m  EngEsh  History," 
"BodweU's  First  Steps  to  Scottish  History,"  "Stories  for  Summer  Days  and  Winter 
Evenings,"  "  Easy  Lessons  in  Mechanics."    There  are  in  all  1099  volumes  npon  the  shelves. 

In  reply  to  our  questions  as  to  the  books  that  are  the  most  popular  among  the  convicts, 
and  the  rules  on  which  they  were  issued,  we  were  informed  that  each  prisoner  had  a  right 
to  have  a  book,  and  to  keep  it  ten  days.  If  he  wanted  it  longer,  he  could  generally  renew 
the  time.  The  books  most  in  demand  were  Chambers'  publications,  and  all  kinds  of 
histories  and  stories.    Yery  few  asked  for  Paley's  "Moral  Philosophy." 

"I  think,"  continued  our  attendant  warder,  "that  'Chambers'  Miscdlany,'  'The 
Leisure  Hour,'  and  '  Papers  for  the  People,'  are  generally  preferred  beyond  other  publica- 
tions. There  is  a  g^at  demand  for  them.  We  haven't  got  '  Dickens'  Household  Words,' 
or  I  dare  say  it  would  be  in  request.     The  chaplain  objects  to  it  being  in  the  library." 

All  friends  of  education  have  scouted  the  idea  long  since>  of  leading  uneducated  men  to 
a  love  of  books  by  such  works  as  Paley's  "Theology"  or  Sturm's  "Eeflections."  These 
are  now  generally  regarded  as  the  unread  books  of  Literary  institutes — ^because  difficult  to 
understand,  and  in  no  way  appealing  to  the  minds  of  the  great  majority  of  readers.  Let 
US,  therefore,  imagine  a  convict  who  has  been  rubbing  the  rust  from  cannon-balls  all  day 
long,  wilh  a  copy  of  Paley  for  his  hour's  amusement^before  he  turns  in.  1^  he  reads  he 
most  probably  will  not  understand.  A  distaste  rather  than  a  taste  for  readinja^  ^s  hereby 
engendered.  Yet  books  teaching  kindly  lessons,  in  the  homely  accidents  of  life,  and  which 
all  may  read  and  comprehend,  are  hardly  to  be  found  upon  the  chaplain's  library  shelf. 

The  school  is  divided  into  nine  divisions.  The  first  division,  subdivided  into  sections 
A  and  B^  musters  110  men.  The  second  division  musters  55  men,  and  so  on.  The  divisions, 
as  they  attend  the  school,  are  generally  so  managed  as  to  average  55  in  number.  Some 
ccmviots^  we  were  told,  cannot  read,  and  no  teaching  will  make  them.  The  teaching  includes 
reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  as  far  as  "  practice."  In  reply  to  our  inquiry  as  to  the 
interval  that  elapsed  between  the  convict's  school-days,  we  were  informed  that  the  turn  to 
remain  on  board  for  lessons  came  round  once  in  every  nine  or  ten  days. 

The  prisoners  tdd-off  for  school  now  appeared  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  chapel,  at  the 
black  desks.  They  were  well-washed  and  brushed,  and  wore  blue  and  white  neokerchie&, 
and  gray  stockings  barred  with  red  stripes.  The  third  division  is  in  to-day.  The  school 
begins  with  two  psalms  and  a  prayer. 

"Ifow,  attention  for  prayers !"  is  called  out  before  they  begin.  Then  the  derk  reads 
a  chapter  of  St.  Luke ;  next  the  schoolmaster  cites  a  verse  from  a  psalm,  and  the  men  go 
stammering  after  him.  It  is  a  melancholy  sight.  Some  of  the  scholars  are  old  bald-headed 
men,  evidently  agricultural  labourers.  There,  amid  sharp-featured  men,  are  dogged-looking 
youths,  whom  it  is  pitiftd  to  behold  so  far  astray,  and  so  young.    And  now  the  clerk  who 


220  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

read  the  prayote  may  be  seen  teaching  the  men ;  but  it  ii  evidently  hard  vork,  and  few,  it 
is  to  be  feared,  care  for  the  school,  fiirther  than  for  the  physical  repose  it  secures  them, 

yfe  now  passed  to  the  little  rooms  off  the  wards,  where  a  few  prisoners  were  tailoring, 
while  others  were  making  the  solid  shoes  such  as  the  working  gangs  in  the  arsenal  wear. 

We  then  advanced  to  the  oabins  ranged  along  the  udes  of  the  weather-deck.  In  one  a 
bookbinder  was  binding  the  ni^;ed  library  volumes  in  black  leather.  "  Take  off  yonr  04), 
sir !"  cried  oar  attendant  to  the  prisoner,  as  we  appeared,  "  and  go  on  with  your  work !" 

Next  ws  passed  to  the  lamp~man's  cabin,  and  found  him  trimming  Qie  night  lamps  6a 


CONVICTB  SCEAFIHO  SHOT. 

the  wards.  Then  we  reached  the  carpenter's  shop ;  and  there  a  gray-headed  old  prisongr 
who  was  planing  a  deal-board,  turned  a  melancholy  &ce  tewaida  us  as  we  eaieKfL 

Then  we  visited  the  tinen-honse,  where  two  or  three  prisoners  were  arraufpng  the  linen  of 
the  various  wards  in  little  tight  rolls.  We  inquired  how  often  the  men  had  a  change. 
"  They  change  their  linen  every  week,  and  their  flannels  every  fortni^t,"  was  tlie  reply. 
How  gratifying  te  men  who  can  remember  the  horrible  £lth  in  which,  only  a  few  years  sinoe, 
the  hulk  convicts  were  allowed  to  remain. 

There  was  not  an  idle  man  on  board.  Festoons  of  dothee  were  drying  above  onr  heads, 
swung  from  the  two  stunted  masts ;  while  across  the  main  deck,  lines  of  dark-brown  string 
were  being  twisted  by  a  convict  rope-maker,  to  be  turned  to  aocoimt  for  the  hammocks  that 
two  other  priwnera  were  mending  in  a  little  cabin  hard  by.    Sverywben  offloen  were 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  221 

g  over  die  mea  at  thrar  Ubonn,  each  ^rarder  being  piovided  viHi  his  book,  in  vMch 
he  eaten  ttie  men's  indoBtiy,  or  want  of  energy.  Their  (one  to  the  men  was  firm,  but  not 
hard  or  harah  ;  atill  they  kept  them  to  their  taak.  Every  prisoner  we  approached  saluted  ns, 
military  fashion,  then  stood  still  till  the  officer  said,  "  Go  on  with  your  work,  sir ! — Go  on 
■with  joax  work !"  when  the  men  turned  to  their  labour  again. 

*»•  ra#  Worting  Portia  in  the  .^rwwo/.— The  govemor  now  called  his  gig  t«  the  gangway 
to  carry  us  ashore  to  inspect  the  labourers  in  Ihe  arsenal.  It  was  a  smart  little  boat,  and 
the  rowera  were  trimly  dressed  in  white,  with  the  word  "DsraNCE"  printed  roimd  the  legs 
at  their  trousers.  The  men,  with  their  glazed  hats  and  ruddy  fiicee,  looked  unlike  convicts. 
Tlieir  position  is  the  reward  of  good  conduct.     They  sit  in  a  little  deck-house  dose  to  tha 


THE  KBCAFZ  SIONAL. 

gMDgwsy,  all  day  long,  ready  to  be  called  out  at  any  moment.  The  men  volunteer  for  boat 
■errice.  First,  they  are  put  into  the  water-boat,  which  conveys  the  well-water  to  and  &om 
ttis  shore ;  .from  this  service  they  are  promoted  to  the  provision  cutter,  which  also  takes  off 
the  mibordinate  officers ;  and  then  they  reach  a  seat  in  the  governor's  gig.  The  men  like 
this  service,  and  are  sent  for  misconduct — as  when  they  use  bad  language — to  labour  on  the 
jmblic  works.  We  started  for  the  araenal  once  more,  at  a  rapid  pace ;  the  governor  himself 
steering  the  pretty  gig  with  its  white  tiller  ropes. 

On  landing,  after  passing  by  the  heavy  cranes,  we  came  up  with  the  first  gang  of  prisoners, 
who  were  loading  a  bark  alongside  the  quay.  "  These  are  the  sloopB  that  convey  war-storee 
to  SbeeraeM,"  we  were  told.  "  And  yonder  black  hull  is  a  floating  powder-magaeine,  near 
which  no  ship  anchors."  We  remarked  the  absence  of  military  sentries,  and  were  told  that 
they  had  been  withdrawn  &om  the  convicts  vrorking  in  the  arsenal,  although  they  still 
maanted  guard.    Then  the  place  is  pointed  out  to  us  whore  the  "  Defence  "  once  had  a 


J 


222  THE  OBEAT  WOKLD  OF  LOBTDON. 

washing-liotLse,  whicli  Has  been  taken  away  by  the  g^yeniment ;  together  with  a  vegetable 
garden,  where  the  oonyictB  formerly  cnltiYated  vegetables  for  the  hulk.  '*  Kow  we  wash 
on  board  the  little  'Sulfhub'  hnlk/'  eontinued  our  informant,  "and  dry  on  board  our 
own  ship." 

We  walked  into  the  grounds  of  the  arsenal,  and  soon  came  up  with  a  second  party  of 
prisoners  at  work  diggrog  out  shot.  As  we  approached,  the  officer  in  charge  gave  the  governor 
a  military  salute,  saying — 

"  All  right,  sir — 10-8."  The  10  being,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  the  number  of  the 
gang,  and  8  the  strength  of  it.  The  governor,  who  knows  what  the  strength  of  each  gang  is, 
can  thus  assure  himself  of  the  presence  of  all  the  men.  We  next  turned  into  the  stone-yaid, 
the  chosen  ground  of  hard,  dull,  mechanical  labour.  Here  there  was  a  strong  gang  of  men 
breaking  granite. 

"  All  light !  how  many  ?"  calls  the  governor. 

"All  right,  sir — 8-9,''  answers  the  officer  in  charge.  Then,  seeing  a  free  workman  at 
hand,  the  officer  is  told  to  keep  him  off.  Here  each  man  is  doing  taak-work.  Every  convict 
must  break  so  many  bushels,  according  to  the  size  to  which  he  is  required  to  reduce  them, 
the  size  being  measured  by  a  wooden  machine,  through  which  they  are  passed.  Thus,  a  man 
breaking  up  the  stones  small,  for  a  garden  walk,  must  break  two  bushels  daily,  whereas  a 
man  breaking  them  up  less,  must  fill  four  or  six  bushel  measures. 

We  then  passed  on  to  huge  stacks  of  valuable  timber.  "  All  this,"  said  our  companion, 
"  has  been  piled  by  convict  labour."  Through  fields  of  cannon  lying  in  rows— here  black  as 
charcoal^  there  red  with  rust— past  stacks  of  wheels  and  wheelless  waggons,  by  sheds  where 
the  air  was  impregnated  with  turpentine  from  the  freshly-worked  timber,  under  heavy  cranesy 
through  mud,  and  sawdust,  and  shavings — here  hailing  a  gang  turning  a  wheel,  and  there  a 
gang  clearing  rubbish — deep  down  a  grove  of  conical  heaps  of  rusty  shells,  where  the  men 
were  filing  and  polishing  them,  we  made  our  round  of  the  convict  working  parties.  All  of 
them  were  busy.  The  officer  takes  care  of  that ;  for  he  is  fined  one  ftbilling  every  time  one 
of  his  men  is  caught  idling,  while  the  escape  of  one  entails  his  dismissal. 

Suddenly  we  came  upon  a  guard  whose  duty  it  was  to  go  the  round  of  the  gangs  and 
collect  the  men  who  wished  to  satisfy  a  call  of  nature.  Then  we  came  upon  an  angle  of  the 
arsenal  wall  against  the  Flumstead  high-road,  where  we  saw  an  armed  guard  with  his 
carbine,  marching  rapidly  backward  and  forward. 

"Now  I  shall  know  directly  whether  all  is  right,"  said  the  governor,  as  he  raised  hia 
hand.    The  sentinel  instantly  halted,  presented  arms,  then  raised  his  right  hand. 

"Had  there  been  an  escape,"  continued  the  governor,  "he  would  have  grasped  his 
carbiae  by  the  barrel,  and  held  it  aloft  horizontally.  That  is  the  escape  signal,  and  this  man 
is  stationed  here  because  escape  would  be  easy  over  the  wall  to  the  high  road.  Only  the 
other  day  I  caused  a  drain  to  be  stopped  up  that  led  from  the  arq^nal  to  the  marshes ;  for  we 
once  had  a  hunt,  that  lasted  all  day  long,  after  two  prisoners  who  got  into  that  drain.  We 
caught  them  at  its  mouth  by  the  Plnmstead  road. 

It  is  exceedingly  difficult  to  prevent  attempts  at  escape,  especially  while  tliere  are  so 
many  free  men  in  the  arsenal.  Last  year  there  were  no  less  than  14,000  free  labourers 
employed  there,  and  these  men  taken  on  without  reference  to  character. 

Here  the  attempts  at  escape,  which  prisoners  had  made  from  time  to  time,  formed  for 
some  time  the  subject  of  our  conversation. 

"The  convicts,"  we  were  told,  "were  generally  assisted  by  the  free  labourers,"  who 
deposited  clothes  for  them  in  some  convenient  spot.  The  convict  slipped  for  a  moment  from 
his  gang,  put  the  clothes  on,  and  passed  out  of  the  arsenal  gates  with  the  crowds  of  free 
men.  Or  else  he  made  a  dash  for  it,  bolted  past  the  sentinels,  swam  the  canal,  reached  the 
tnarshes,  and  made  off  to  the  wood  at  hand.  These  attempts  sometimes  defied  the  utmost 
vigilance  of  the  offloers.    It  was  the  duty  of  a  guardi  from  whose  gang  a  man  escaped,  to  hasten 


THB  HULKS  AT  VOOLWICaaC.  22J( 

on  board  with  the  rest  of  his  men  (unless  He  can  find  an  officer  to  undertake  this  duty  while 
he  nuLB  after  the  lost  man)^  and  report  the  escape.  We  then  signal  to  the  police  aathorities  by 
telegraphy  to  Bow  Street^  Erith,  Otuldford,  Bford,  Bezley  Heath,  and  Shooter's  Hill,  so  as 
to  snrronnd  him  with  a  band  of  vigilant  policemen,  and  prevent  his  getting  clear.  It  was 
impossible  to  goard  entirely  against  these  attempts  under  this  mixed  system.  They  could  not 
prevent  the  men  from  talking  by  night.  Bat  how  much  worse  was  it  imder  the  old  system, 
when  some  six  hnndred  or  seven  hundred  prisoners  were  crammed  into  a  hulk  smaller  than 
the  ''DxFEKcs,"  and  with  only  one  officer  all  night  to  watch  them. 

We  inquired  whether  the  men  were  very  severely  punished  when  they  were  lazy,  and 
were  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

**  They  are  sent  here  to  labour,"  said  the  governor.  "  Here,  officer,  give  me  your  labour^ 
book."  This  book  contained  on  one  side  a  description  of  the  nature  and  quantity  of  the  work 
performed,  and  on  the  other  the  conduct  of  the  men  during  the  work.  We  were  assured, 
however,  that  the  men  have  very  seldom  to  be  punished  for  idleness.  "They  do  twice  as 
much  as  free  men,"  added  the  governor.     "  They  work  excellently." 

We  now  turned  from  the  busy  arsenal,  crossed  the  canal  bridge,  and  approached  the 
little  black  wooden  lodge  of  the  policeman  who  guards  the  gate  leading  to  the  marshes.  He 
sahites  us  as  we  pass  out  to  the  marshes. 

The  scene,  dose  by  the  gate,  is  singularly  English.  To  the  light  lies  the  rising  ground 
of  Flumstead,  with  its  red  square  church-tower  peeping  from  among  the  dense  green  cluster 
of  tiie  trees:  Below  is  a  duster  of  village  houses,  and  beyond  swells  Abbey  Wood  up  the 
shelving  ground ;  while  beyond  this,  again,  and  serving  as  background,  rises  Shooter's  Hill, 
d^vped  by  two  or  three  surburban  villas. 

Bight  before  us  is  a  vast  earth-work,  all,  as  we  are  told,  raised  by  convict  labour !  It  is 
a  6-inortar  battery.  We  approached  it  (crossing  the  range  where  the  ordnance  authorities  try 
thfiir  rifles  at  the  butt,  while  that  solitary  man,  tax  over  the  marshes,  comes  out  of  the 
shed  by  the  side  of  Hie  nuurk,  after  every  shot,  and  with  a  long  pole  marks  the  point 
Idt)  and  found  the  prisoners,  with  their  brown  jackets  thrown  o£^  and  some  with  their  legs 
buried  in  water-boots,  reaching  to  their  thighs,  digging  the  heavy,  black,  clayey  soil,  and 
carrying  it  away  in  barrows,  under  the  eyes  of  two  guards,  with  their  cutlasses  at  their  sides 
and  two  non-conmussloned  officers  of  the  sappers  and  minersi  who  were  directing  the  works. 

"  Thaf  s  a  nice  circular  out,  sir,"  said  one  of  the  non-commissioned  officers,  pointing  to 
the  earth-work  thrown  up. 

The  governor  then  challenged  the  guards,  who  told  off  their  numbers,  and  gave  the 
usual  "  All  right !"  The  bright  red  shell-jackets,  and  the  caps  with  gay  gold  bands,  stood 
oat  in  poinfhl  contrast  with  the  dingy  crew  of  unfortunate  men  they  were  directing.  As 
we  looked  on  at  the  work  going  bravdy  forward,  our  attention  was  specially  directed  to  the 
healthy  appearance  of  the  men. 

"  See,"  said  the  governor,  evidently  not  a  little  proud  of  their  ruddy  dieeks,  "  they  are 
not  ill-looking  men.  I  have  to  punish  them  very  seldom.  One  or  two  of  the  men  in  the 
stone-yaid  were  old  offenders,  and  they're  the  best  behaved.  There's  a  fine  young  chap 
there,  stript  to  the  buff,  and  working  away  hard !" 

%*  The  GmvieUf  Burial  Ground. — ^We  turned  away,  and  went  farther  over  the  marsheSi 
the  ground  giving  way  under  our  feet;  and  presently  we  passed  behind  the  butt,  while  the 
IGnii  balls  were  whistling  through  the  air,  and  that  solitary  man  was  marking  the  hits.  We 
approached  a  low  piece  of  ground — ^in  no  way  marked  off  from  the  rest  of  the  marsh — ^in  no 
way  distanguishable  from  any  section  of  the  dreaiy  expanse,  save  that  the  long  rank  grass 
had  been  turned,  in  one  place  latdy,  and  that  there  was  an  upset  barrow  lying  not  fiar 
ofL    Heavy,  leaden  douds  were  rolUng  over  head|  and  some  heavy  drops  of  rain  pattered 


224  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 

upon  our  faoes  as  we  stood  tliere.  We  thonglit  it  waa  one  of  the  dreariest  spots  we  had 
ever  seen. 

"  This,"  said  the  governor,  "  is  the  Convicts'  Snrial  Ground !" 

"We  could  just  trace  the  rougli  outline  of  dbtnrbed  ground  at  our  feet.  Beyond  this  was 
a  shed,  where  cattle  foand  shelter  in  bad  veather ;  and  to  the  right  the  land  shelved  up 
between  the  marsh  and  the  river.  There  was  not  even  a  number  over  the  graves ;  the  last, 
and  it  was  onlj  a  month  old,  was  disappearing.  In  a  few  months,  the  rank  grass  will  have 
closed  over  it,  as  over  the  story  of  ita  inmate.  And  it  is,  perhaps,  well  to  leave  Qie  names  of 
the  unfortunate  men,  whose  bones  lie  in  the  clay  of  this  dreary  marsh,  nnregistered  and 
unknown.    But  the  feeling  with  which  we  look  upon  its  desolatbn  in  irrepressible. 


THE  OO.fVlCIS'  BORIAI^BOUND. 

We  fbllowed  the  governor  up  the  ridge  that  separates  the  maish  from  the  river,  and 
walked  on,  bock  towards  the  arsenal.  As  we  walked  along  we  were  told,  that  under  our 
feet  dead  mKi's  bones  lay  closely  packed ;  the  ridge  coidd  no  longer  contain  a  body,  and 
that  was  the  reason  why,  during  the  last  five  or  six  years,  the  lower  ground  had  been  taken. 

Then  there  is  a  legend — an  old,  old  legend,  that  has  passed  down  to  the  present  time — 
about  a  little  pale-blue  flower,  with  its  purple  leaves — the  "  mbmm  lamum" — which,  it  is 
said,  grows  only  over  the  convict's  grave — a  flower,  tender  and  unobtrusive  as  the  kindness 
for  which  the  legend  gives  it  credit.  Botanists,  however,  wiU  of  coarse  ruthlessly  destroy 
the  local  faith  that  has  given  this  flower  value ;  for  they  will  t«ll  you  it  is  only  a  stonted 
fimn  of  the  "  red  dead  nettle." 

We  pass  from  the  graves — meet  a  perambulatjng  guard,  who  signals  "  All  right  I"  by 
saluting  and  raising  his  band — and  then,  reciosBing  the  canal-bridge,  where  the  convicta  are 
■tacking  wood,  and  the  click  and  ring  of  bricklayers'  trowels  are  heard,  relieved  now  and 
then  by  the  reports  of  the  ordnance  rifle-practice,  we  moke  our  way  towards  the  boat 


THE  HULKS  AT  VOOLWICH.  225 

Balnted  by  the  "  All  i^te"  and  ealatee  of  the  officera  of  vQitx  working  partjes  tliat  va 
pue  by  the  iray. 

There  are  many  objects  to  arrest  our  attention,  bb  we  go,  from  ihe  exploded  wrecks  of 
barrels,  Ac.,  lying  for  sale  near  the  butt  bank,  where  men 
are  di^ng  shot  out  of  the  ground.  We  meet  another 
patrolling  guard,  who  gtvea  the  "AH  right"  aalnte;  and 
whose  dniy  it  is,  as  Boon  as  be  beare  of  an  escape,  to  dash 
Uirongh  the  encloanre  abont  the  aiaenal,  and,  waving  his 
carbine  horizontally  in  tike  air,  commnnicato  the  fiict  to  the 
aeatriea  in  the  mardieB. 

Our  way  lies  then  by  the  rocket-aheds,  rather  celebrated 
tar  accidents. 

"  Occasionally  yon  see  the  men  at  work  there,"  said  the 
goreiTior,  "mkh  out  with  their  clothes  ail  in  flames,  and 
dire  into  &e  canal.  Only  a  month  or  bo  ago,  two  or  three 
■beds  blew  np,  and  the  rockets  vere  flying  abont  all 
anumgst  my  men."  As  ve  passed,  a  workman,  black  as 
gunpowder,  appeared  at  the  door  of  one  of  the  sheda  with  a 


Clooe  at  hand  to  the  Tooket-abeds,  were  little  powder 
boats,  like  miniature  Lord  Uayor's  barges,  with  the  windows 
bhx^ed  np  and  the  gilding  taken  o£F. 

"  There  are  tlie  cartridge- sheds,  too;  and  there  the  flre- 
nngintw  me  alwayB  kept  at  the  water's  edge,  in  ease  of  acci- 
dmit,  and  with  the  hose  ready  in  the  water,  as  you  see. 
All  ri^t,  Ur.  Watson?" 

"  All  right,  sir !    No.  8—10."  ^^^  coimcr'a  ploweb. 

Here,  opposite  the  gang  of  oon-ricta  just  hailed,  and 
who  were  hard  at  w<nfk  stacking  planks,  were  some  few  idlers  upon  the  t<^  of  a  barge. 
"  Ctmtiast  the  conduct  of  those  fellows  with  my  men,"  was  the  goyemor's  observation. 
"  Their  language  is  dreadfiil,  as  yon  can  hear.  You  aee,  too,  that  new  building,  with 
the  tall,  minaret  chimneys,  flanked  by  low  stacks,  and  with  crimson  tongues  of  flame 
at  top — that's  a  shell  fbotory."  There  are  abootB  of  white  steam,  and  plumes  of  black 
smoke  issuing  from  it ;  and  as  we  advance  past  endless  stacks  of  heavy  timber  arranged 
by  the  conviotB,  we  hear  &e  rattle  of  machinery  and  the  noise  of  wheels.  Then  as  we 
go  by  the  large  new  building  where  mortars  are  to  be  cast,  the  govenior  approaches  a  gang, 
and  asks  again — 

"  All  ri^t,  Mr.  Jenning  ?" 

"  All  ri(^t,  sir !  10 — 10,"  replies  the  officer. 

We  now  pass  through  shedE — large  as  railway  atations — under  which  numerous  pOea  of 
timber  are  stacked,  together  with  endless  rows  of  wheelless  carts,  with  .their  wheels  stacked 
opposite,  and  here  we  find  the  prisoners  beginning  to  march  in  gangs  towards  the  parade- 
ground.  "  It  is  half-paat  eleven  o'clock,  and  they  must  be  on  board  the  hulk  to  dinner  at 
noon  precisely,"  aays  the  governor  to  us.  As  we  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  parade- 
groond,  we  can  see  them  filing  along  from  different  directions.  There  is  no  confuaian  ou 
reaching  the  spot,  fbr  each  man  knows  his  exact  place.  Then  a  strict  search  of  the  men 
is  made  by  tlie  warders,  to  see  that  they  have  not  secreted  anything  while  at  work — the 
men  opening  their  waistcoats,  and  pulling  off  tlieir  cravata,  as  befbre,  to  facihtate  the 


The  searching  over,  the  men  descend  the  Btaira,  in  parties,  to  the  cutters,  and  return  to 
the  hulk  in  tlie  order  in  whioh  ikej  left  her  in  tlie  morning.    Having  made  the  tour  of  the 
16 


226  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

arsenal  (which,  including  the  section  of  the  marshes  tamed  to  use,  measoies  160  sqnare 
acres  in  extent),  we  also  returned  on  board  the  hulk  with  the  governor. 

''Weigh  all!"is  the  word  of  command.  Andin  a  few  minutes  we  are  at  the  "  Dkfbnce  " 
gangway.     The  officers  are  hurrying  the  convicts  on  board. 

^*  Now,  Mr.  B ,  bring  your  men  up  P'    A  long-boat  approaches,  crammed  with  men 

and  warders. 

''Hoist  your  oars !"  cries  an  officer  as  the  cutter  touches  the  hulk.  The  warders  kad 
first,  and  then  they  hurry  the  men  up  the  gangway  steps.  As  soon  as  they  reach  the  deck 
they  advance,  in  single  file,  to  their  respective  hatchways,  and  descend  at  once  to  their 
wards. 

The  tread  of  these  two  hundred  men  sounds  below  almost  like  thunder  roUing  under  the 
decks !  They  are  at  once  locked  up  in  their  wards,  where  their  tin  mug  and  plate  are 
turned  upside  down,  one  upon  the  other,  around  each  mess-table,  previous  to  dinner. 

%*  ITie  Convicts  <U  Dinner  and  Leaoing  for  Work, — ^Now  men  appear  at  the  end^f  the 
wards  with  large  clothes-baskets  full  of  bread. 

<'  3 — 7 ;  4 — 8 ;  and  5 — 6 !  "  cries  the  warder,  as  he  dispenses  the  loaves  to  each  mess. 

The  mess-men  of  these  parties  advance  to  the  gate  of  the  ward,  and  receive  their  proper 
quantities  for  their  respective  messes.  Some  messes  have  a  loaf  and  a  quarter,  otiiera 
two  whole  loaves,  according  to  their  nimierical  strength — ^the  men  dividing  these  quantities 
themselves.  There  is  also  upon  the  mess-taUes  a  deal-board  to  cut  up  the  meat  upon.  A 
man  now  comes  below  carrying  knife-bags,  and  distributes  them  according  to  the  number  of 
men  in  each  compartment.  After  dinner  they  are  cleaned,  put  back  into  the  bags,  and 
returned  to  the  proper  officer.  The  men  who  have  been  on  board  all  day  were  in  dieir 
wards,  pacing  to  and  fro,  before  their  companions  came  pouring  down  from  their  arsenal  work. 

''  To  your  table,  men ! ''  cries  the  chief  warder;  and  accordingly  the  men  range  them- 
selves in  their  proper  seats. 

"  Now  A  ward ! "  is  shouted  down  the  hatchway.  "  Come  on  here— one,  two,  and 
three !  '*  A  man  from  each  mess  answers  the  call.  Presentiy  these  messmen  are  seen 
returning,  each  carrying  a  small  tub  fiill  of  meat,  and  a  net  full  of  potatoes,  together  with  the 
supper  bread.  One  man  at  each  mess  may  now  be  seen  serving  out  the  potatoes  into  tin 
plates.     Then  there  is  a  cry  of—"  All  up ! " 

The  men  rise,  and  grace  is  said.  When  the  men  are  re-seated,  a  man  proceeds  at  onoe  to 
cut  up  the  meat  upon  the  mess-board.  The  dinner  is  now  portioned  out,  and  we  are 
informed  that  the  men  very  rarely  quarrel  over  the  division  of  the  allowed  quantities.  When 
the  meat  is  cut  into  eight  or  nine  portions,  as  the  case  may  be,  the  meat-board  is  pushed  into 
the  middle  of  the  table,  and  each  man  takes  the  piece  nearest  to  him.  Then  the  peeling  of 
potatoes  goes  actively  forward,  and  the  men  are  soon  fEorly  engaged  upon  their  meal, 
talking  the  while  in  a  low,  rumbling  tone. 

''  Not  too  much  talking  there !     Silence — silence  here ! "  cries  the  warder. 

Since  the  morning,  the  top  deck  and  the  others  have  imdergone  a  complete  change.  The 
windows  have  been  removed,  and  the  atmosphere  is  fresh  and  pleasant. 

The  governor  now  went  his  rounds,  and  was  saluted  on  all  sides. 

At  length  one  o'clock  sounded.  At  five  minutes  past  we  saw  the  guard  go  down  the 
gangway  with  fixed  bayonets,  followed  by  one  of  the  principal  warders. 

''  Now,  then,  turn  the  hands  out,  Mr.  Webb,  aiid  man  the  gig ! ''  was  shouted. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  convicts  began  to  stream  up  the  deck  from  the  hatchways,  and  to 
move  down  the  gangway  in  single  file,  to  the  cutters,  as  in  the  morning. 

"  Oars  up,  here !  Oars  up ! ''  shouts  the  guard  in  the  cutter  to  the  rowers,  as  tbd 
first  prisoners  reach  the  water's  edge.  The  boat  carrying  the  guards— -their  bayonets 
sparkling  in  the  sun — and  some  officers  too,  is  already  off  to  receive  the  men  on  shore. 


•      THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  227 

in  a  few  minutes  the  two  hundred  men  are  on  their  way  to  the  parade-ground ;  while  on 
board  the  officers  are  occupied  in  mustering  the  **  boarders''  and  schoolmen. 

Once  more  we  push  off  in  the  governor's  gig,  as  the  sharp  crack  of  the  rifles  in  the 
marshes  reminds  us  that  the  ordnance  men  are  still  practising  at  the  butt. 

During  the  men's  absence  in  the  afternoon,  the  boarders  carry  the  hacomocks  back  from 
the  houses ;  and  while  we  were  watching  this  operation,  our  informant  related  to  us  the  story 
of  a  convict  who,  being  employed  in  the  chaplain's  room,  managed  to  cut  up  his  black  gown, 
and  manufacture  it  into  a  pair  of  black  trousers.  With  only  this  garment  upon  him,  he  con- 
trived, one  very  dark  and  gusty  night,  to  drop  overboard.  He  swam  clear  off,  and  reached 
a  swamp,  where  he  got  entangled  in  a  bed  of  rashes.  Here  he  got  frightened,  and  cried  for 
help.  Some  men  in  a  barge,  who  were  passing,  picked  him  up,  and  suspecting  that  he  was  a 
convict,  delivered  him  up  to  the  prison  officers. 

The  convicts  leave  their  afternoon's  work  at  a  quarter-past  Ave,  so  as  to  be  aU  collected 
by  half-past,  and  before  the  free  men  leave.  It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  them  re-embark 
for  the  night ;  for  the  slantiag  rays  of  the  sun  threw  long  shadows  frx>m  the  cutters  over 
the  water,  and  the  evening  light  sparkled  warmly  upon  the  tide,  and  danced  as  it  caught 
every  polished  point  of  the  dense  mass,  while  the  boats  advanced  towards  the  hulk. 

As  we  watched  the  cutters  approach,  we  inquired  into  the  regulations  concerning  the 
receiving  visits  and  letters  from  their  friends  by  the  convicts.  In  reply  we  were  told  that 
they  see  their  relatives  once  in  three  months,  and  that  they  are  allowed  to  write  every  three 
months.  These  meetings  of  the  prisoners  with  their  friends  are  held  under  the  poop — ^three 
meetings  taking  place  at  a  time.  There  are,  however,  no  regular  days  for  visits ;  if  a  friend 
calls  while  a  man  is  away  at  labour,  the  authorities  send  for  him.  The  regulations,  we 
should  add,  appear  to  be  carried  out  with  great  consideration. 

On  the  cutters  reaohing  the  hulk,  the  prisoners  stream  up  the  gangway  in  single  file  as 
before — ^then  pour  down  the  hatchways,  into  their  respective  wards,  where  gruel  is  at  once 
served  out  to  them,  and  they  are  allowed  to  rest  till  chapel-time,  at  half-past  six  o'clock. 

After  chapel,  at  eight  o'clock,  the  men  are  mustered  in  their  wards — and  the  gates  of 
Rewards  locked  for  the  night.  When  the  officer  cries,  "  The  muster's  over !"  the  men  jump 
up,  the  tables  disappear,  the  forms  are  ranged  along  the  sides  of  the  ward,  and  each  man 
gets  his  hammock  from  the  comer  in  which  they  were  piled  in  the  afternoon  by  the  boarders. 
In  a  few  minutes  all  the  hammocks  are  slung,  and  the  men  talking  together.  "  The  4  divi* 
don  is  for  school  to-morrow,"  cries  an  officer. 

SSiortly  after  this  each  man  is  beside  his  hammock,  preparing  for  bed,  and  then  they 
are  allowed  to  talk  until  nine  o'clock ;  but  directly  the  clock  strikes,  not  another  word  is 
heard.  At  nine  o'clock  the  two  officers  to  each  deck  are  relieved  by  the  night  officer,  and 
the  men  are  in  bed.  There  are  also  four  guards  who  relieve  one  another  through  the  night, 
at  tiie  gangway. 

At  nine  o*clock  the  countersign  is  given  out  by  the  governor  to  the  chief  warder,  the 
chief  warder  giving  it  to  the  officers  on  the  watch,  so  that  after  this  hour  nobody  can  move 
about  the  ship  without  it. 

AU  is  quiet.  We  hear  once  more  the  gurgling  of  the  water  about  the  hulk.  Over  towards 
the  arsenal,  the  warm  red  lights  of  the  little  white  pier  stand  out  prettily  against  the  dark 
shore,  and  there  are  bright  lights  shining  over  the  crumpled  water,  in  little  golden  paths. 
The  shore,  too,  is  studded  with  lights  as  with  jewels. 

We  are  infonned  that  the  countcrsigh  for  the  night  is  ''  Smyrna."  Then  we  hear  the 
loud  metallic  ring  of  two  bells.  **  Nine  o'clock ! "  cries  the  warder.  Now  there  is  not  a 
sound  heard  below,  but  the  occasional  tramp  of  footsteps  over-head.  The  men,  as  they  lie 
in  their  hammocks,  look  like  huge  cocoons.  The  principal  warder  tries  all  the  locks  of  the 
wards,  and  at  ten  o'clock  the  hatches  are  padlocked  for  the  night,  and  the  day's  duties  are 
ended. 

W 


228 


THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 


f  iii— 8. 
The  "  UniW' Mo^ital  Skip. 

While  the  men  were  perfonning  their  afternoon  labours  in  the  arsenal,  we  fotmd  time  to 
go,  in  the  captain's  gig,  on  board  the  convicts'  hospital  ship,  the  "  XJnit^  "—or  "  TJneet, 
according  to  the  local  pronunciation. 

The  **  Uirrr£  "  hospital  ship,  moored  to  the  '*  Defence,''  is  an  old  36-gan  frigate,  tak^i  from 
the  Erench.     The  officers  who  steered  us  on  board  bade  us  examine  the  beauty  of  her  build. 

This  ship  is  excellently  arranged,  and  has  large  airy  decks,  along  which  iron  bedsteads 
are  placed,  at  sufficient  distances,  for  the  reception  of  the  sick  men  from  the  **  Defbitce"  and 
'' Wahbiob"  labour  hulks.  The  vessel  is  cleaned  by  a  few  healthy  convicts;  while  some  of 
the  convalescents,  in  their  blue-gray  dresses  and  odd  comical  night-caps,  are  employed  as 
nurses.  The  top  deck  is  a  fine  spacious  room,  covered  with  matting,  and  lighted  by  wide, 
barred  port-holes. 

The  invalid  bedsteads  were  ranged  on  either  side  of  the  deck  from  one  end  to  the  other, 
and  at  the  head  of  them  there  were  small  places  for  books.  "  Here  the  temperature  in  the 
winter  months,"  said  the  master,  '4s  kept  up  to  sixty." 

We  passed  one  man  in  bed,' who  was  coughing.  It  was  a  case  of  phthisis.  He  had 
chloride  of  lime  hanging  all  round  him,  to  destroy  the  odour  of  the  expectoration.  Then 
there  was  another  poor  fellow,  with  his  head  lying  upon  a  pillow,  placed  upon  a  chair  at 
the  side  of  the  bed,  who  had  a  disease  of  the  heart,  and  had  been  spitting  blood.  The 
convalescents,  in  their  queer,  blue-gray  gowns,  draw  up  at  the  end  of  their  beds  as  we 
move  along,  and  salute  us.  Another  man  lies  in  bed,  wearing  a  night-cap,  marked 
'*  Hospital ;"  he  has  a  broken  leg. 

Another,  of  whom  we  asked  the  nature  of  his  illness,  replied,  ''Asthmatical,  sir!" 

''  Two  healthy  prisoners  are  employed  on  each  deck,"  said  the  master, ''  to  act  as  nurses. 
One  of  the  convalescents  acts  as  barber.  Thaf  s  he,  with  his  belt  round  his  waist  filled 
with  sheaths  and  razors." 

Then  we  visited  the  place  where  the  convalescents  assemble  for  prayers,  morning  and 
evening.  '*  We  have  twenty-four  in  hospital  to-day,"  the  master  added ;  "  five  were  dis- 
charged this  morning.  There  is  plenty  of  ventilation,  you  perceive.  A  perfect  draught  is 
kept  up,  by  means  of  tubes,  right  through  the  ship.  We  were  told  that  a  Bible  and  Tester 
ment  were  placed  at  the  head  of  each  bed ;  and  we  saw  one  convict  reading  *'  Recreations 
in  Astronomy." 

We  inquired  about  the  scale  of  diet.  In  reply  the  master  said,  ''The  man  bo  bad, 
up-stairs,  has  2  eggs,  2  pints  of  arrowroot  and  milk,  12  ounces  of  bread,  1  ounce  of  butter, 
6  ounces  of  wine,  1  ounce  of  brandy,  2  oranges,  and  a  sago  pudding  daily.  Anotlier  man 
here  is  on  half  a  sheep's  head,  1  pint  of  arrowroot  and  milk,  4  ounces  of  bread,  1  ounce 
of  butter,  1  pint  extra  of  tea,  and  2  ounces  of  wine  daily.  Here  is  the  scale  of  frill  diet 
for  convalescents : — 


BRBAXTAtT. 

4  ounceB  of  bread. 

^  pint  of  milk. 

%  oiinoefl  of  oatmeal  groeL 

Stjppbb. 
4  oimoes  of  bread. 
One-mxth  of  an  ounce  of  tea. 
i  oonoe  of  iugar« 
^  pint  of  milk. 


DiNinEB. 

8  ounoea  of  bread. 

8  ounces  of  mutton  (uncooked). 

1  pound  of  potatoes. 

i  ounce  of  salt 

i  pint  of  porter. 

I  pint  of  Boup." 


^'IM 


■I'lifi 


,  ,■,•■,,'"11 

■  ■  riii'iiitll 

i  ■■:■'*''!!:;! 


I      Hi,-' 


:''6i  V 

■I  ii 


THE  HULKS  AT  WOOLWICH.  229 

The  healthy  men  employed  on  board  the  "  Vmr^  "  muster  twenty  strong,  indnding  the 
boatmen,  cooks,  and  washermen.  There  are  nine  warders,  an  infirmary  warder,  and  principal. 
The  night-watches  begin  at  half-past  five,  at  which  hour  half  the  oficers  leave  the  ship,  and 
return  at  seven  o'clock  on  the  following  inoming.  The  principal,  however,  lives  on  board, 
and  there  is  also  a  resident  surgeon. 

From  the  directors'  report  in  1854,  we  learn  that  there  were  on  board,  on  the  1st  of 
January  in  that  year,  68  patients;  that  in  the  course  of  that  year  676  patients  were 
admitted ;  that  in  the  course  of  the  same  year  668  patients  were  discharged ;  that  two 
patients  were  pardoned  on  medical  grounds;  that  26  died ;  that  two  patients  were  invalided 
to  the  "  Stirl^  Castle ;"  and  that  on  the  31st  of  December,  1864,  there  were  36  patients 
left  in  the  hospital. 


If  iii-c. 
The  "  Stilphur  "  WoBhmg  EuOc. 

From  the  ''  TJhits"  we  proceeded,  in  the  gig  of  the  governor  of  the  "DxFBirGE,"  past  old 
steam^s,  low  wharves,  flaunting  little  river-side  public-houses,  towards  the  great  bulging 
hulk  of  the  ''  Wabbiob."  But  before  bdng  landed  at  the  dockyard  steps,  to  go  on  board  the 
model  hulk,  we  pulled  aside  to  a  little,  low,  dingy  ship,  which  serves  as  a  floating  wash-tub 
to  the  Woolwich  hulks. 

This  old  sloop  of  war,  once  carrying  thirty  guns,  has  now  fifteen  convicts  on  board,  under 
the  orders  of  a  master,  whose  business  it  is  to  wash  the  clothes  of  the  men  in  the  ''  Wabbiob  " 
and  **  Dkfskcb  "  hulks.  There  are  three  washermen,  one  blacksmith,  and  two  stocking- 
menders  here  employed.  On  deck  there  was  a  solitary  soldier  keeping  g^ard.  The  maindeck 
was  very  wet.  Forward  there  were  large  square  black  water-tanks,  and  beside  these  a  coiru- 
gated  iron  blacksmith's  shop,  with  an  old  convict  filing  away  inside.  Bundles  of  convicts' 
stockings  lie  waiting  to  be  mended  near  the  poop,  while  lines,  ornamented  with  linen,  dangle 
over-head.  Below,  between  the  low  decks,  we  groped  our  way,  in  the  deep  gloom,  amid  damp 
dothee — past  men  mending  stockings,  others  folding  convict  clothes,  and  tying  them  up  into 
rolls  ready  to  be  worn — ^in  the  steam  and  smell  of  clothes  drying  by  heat,  past  capacious  vats 
and  boilers,  all  half-hidden,  and  looking  terrible,  because  durk  and  spectral-like. 

The  warder  in  charge  of  the  old  sloop  showed  us  over  his  dingy  kingdom  with  great 
courtesy,  and  answered  our  many  questions  with  excellent  good-humour.  He  told  us  that 
all  the  convicts  employed  with  him  throughout  the  day  slept  on  board  the  ''Wabbiob" 
opposite.    He  alone  remained  on  board  all  night. 

We  pushed  off  from  the  ''  Sitlphub,''  thanking  the  warder  for  his  courtesy,  and  pulled 
for  the  dockyard  steps  alongside  the  ''  Wabbiob." 


If    ^-<» 

The  "  Warrior''  fftdk. 

This  great  hulk — an  old  74-gun  ship,  upwards  of  sixty  years  of  age,  which  has  been  the 
■db}ect  of  annual  remonstrances  from  the  prison  directors  to  tiie  government  for  some  time  past 


230  THE  GKEAT  VOBLD  OF  LONDOK. 

and  the  ribs  of  which,  it  is  said,  hardly  hold  together— is  moored  alongside  the  dockyard, 
with  her  head  towards  London,  and  serves  to  house  the  conyicts  who  work  in  the  dock- 
yard. 

We  have  so  fully  described  the  hulk  system  on  board  the  *'  Defehce/'  which  differs  in 
no  important  particular  from  that  pursued  on  board  the  '<  Wabbioe,"  that  it  will  be  unnecessary 
to  do  more  than  glance  at  the  general  arrangements  of  this  ship.  Even  the  employment  of  the 
prisoners  in  the  dockyard  differs  little  in  charaoter  from  that  performed  by  the  convicts  who 
work  in  the  arsenal. 

The  distribution  of  the  prisoners'  time  closely  resembles  that  on  board  the  "  Dxfencb/' 
there  being  2  hours  given  to  meals;  9  hours  and  5  minutes  to  work;  and  4  hours 
and  25  minutes  to  in-door  occupation  throughout  the  summer;  while  in  the  winter  the 
meals  occupy  2  hours  and  5  minutes ;  work,  7  hours  and  55  minutes ;  and  the  in-door  occu- 
pation, 5  hours. 

The  ''Wabbiob"  is  reached,  from  the  dockyard,  by  a  gallery  projecting  from  the  quay  to 
the  gangway.  At  the  end  of  the  compartment  under  the  forecastle  is  a  large  iron  palisading, 
with  two  gates,  which  are  securely  padlocked  at  night. 

'*  The  ship,"  our  attendant-warder  informs  us,  <'  is  lighted  by  gas — ^the  only  one  in 
the  world,  perhaps,  that  is  so."  This  is  owing  to  the  dose  contiguity  of  the  vessel  to  the 
shore. 

The  top  deck  has  a  fine  long  wide  passage.  The  wards  are  divided  into  two  messes,  and 
contain  two  tables  each.  The  other  arrangements  are  the  same  as  in  the '' Defence."  Here, 
however,  each  ward  has  its  little  library ;  and  every  man  has  a  Bible,  a  prayer-book,  a  hymn- 
book,  and  a  library-book ;  the  last  he  gets  from  the  schoolmaster.  Each  ward,  too,  has 
a  solid  bulkhead,  which  prevent  the  authorities  having  too  large  a  body  of  prisoners  together. 
There  is  a  gas-light  at  the  bulkhead  between  each  ward,  so  arranged  as  to  light  two  wards 
at  once,  while  the  passage  is  darkened,  so  that  the  officer  on  duty  can  see  the  men,  while 
they  cannot  see  him. 

The  middle  deck  is  very  fine  and  spacious,  the  passage  being  about  five  feet  in  width. 
There  are  eight  wards  on  the  top  deck,  ten  in  the  middle  deck,  and  fourteen  on  the  lower 
deck. 

The  ship  can  acconmiodate  four  hundred  and  fifty  men.  There  are  now  four  hundred 
and  forty-nine  men  in  her,  and  out  of  this  number  only  ten  in  the  hospital.  At  the  head  end 
of  the  middle  deck  is  a  shoemaker's  shop,  where  we  found  the  convicts  mending  prisoners' 
shoes ;  while  opposite  them  is  the  tailor's  shop,  and  here  the  workers  were  repairing  shirts 
and  flannels. 

The  lower  deck  is  also  a  fine  long  deck,  reaching  right  from  the  head  to  the  stem.  There 
is  a  current  of  air  right  through  it.  It  is,  however,  very  low.  At  the  fore-part  of  this 
deck,  on  one  side,  is  the  carpenter's  shop;  while  the  seven  refractory  cells  occupy  the 
opposite  side. 

A  black  label  hangs  at  each  door  of  the  dark  cells,  and  upon  this  is  chalked  the  name  and 
punishment  of  the  inmate.  One  runs  thus : — **  In  for  4  days ;  B  and  W  (bread  and  water) ; 
in  19th,  out  23rd."  The  next  man  is  m  for  seven  days,  with  bread  and  water,  for  having 
attempted  to  escape ;  and  a  third  prisoner  is  also  in  for  seven  days,  for  extreme  insolence 
to  the  governor  and  warders.  "We  now  passed  .on  to  the  chapel,  the  surgery,  &c.,  and  entered 
the  schoolmaster's  cabin,  where  we  saw  the  same  class  of  books  as  we  noted  down  on  board 
the  "Defekcb." 

The  school  classes  are  divided  into  eleven  divisions,  arranged  according  to  the  ability  of 
the  men.  All  the  men  have  half  a  day's  schooling  each  per  week.  AU  take  three  lessons, 
viz.,  one  hour's  reading,  one  hour's  writing,  and  one  hour's  arithmetic.  Here  we  found  some 
trying  in  vain  to  write,  while  one  was  engaged  upon  a  letter  beginning,  "  Dear  brother." 


THE  HTJLKS  AT  VOOLWICH. 


231 


The  copies  the  xi^en  were  making  were  generally  better  than  one  could  expect.*  We  noticed 
also  the  chapel  clerks,  who  were  convicts  with  silver-gray  hair,  and  appeared  to  belong  to  a 
better  class.  They  write  letters  or  petitions,  we  were  told,  for  the  prisoners  who  are  unable 
to  do  80  themselves.  One  of  these  clerks  had  been  a  medical  man,  in  practice  for  himself 
during  twenty-five  years,  while  the  other  had  been  a  clerk  in  the  Post-office.  The  clerk  had 
been  tranBported  fbr  fourteen  years ;  and  the  medical  man  had  been  sentenced  to  four  years' 
penal  servitude. 

The  working  parties  here  are  arranged  as  in  the  arsenal,  only  the  strongest  men  are 
selected  for  the  coal-'gang,  invalids  being  put  to  stone-breaking.  Li  the  dockyard  there  are 
still  military  sentries  attached  to  each  gang  of  prisoners.  We  glanced  at  the  parties  work- 
ing, amid  the  confusion  of  the  dockyard,  carrying  coals,  near  the  gigantic  ribs  of  a  skeleton 
ship,  stacking  timber,  or  drawing  carts,  like  beasts  of  burden.  Kow  we  came  upon  a 
labouring  party,  near  a  freshly  pitched  gun-boat,  deserted  by  the  free  labourers,  who  had 
struck  for  wages,  and  saw  the  wdl-known  prison  brown  of  the  men  carrying  timber  from  the 
saw-mills.  Here  the  officer  called— aa  at  the  arsenal-i-''  All  right,  sir !  27 — 10."  Then 
there  were  parties  testing  chain  cables,  amid  the  most  deafening  hammering.  It  is  hard, 
rery  hard,  labour  the  men  are  performing. 


•  STATimilT  SHOWniO  THB  PBISOinms'  FBOOBX88  AT  BOHOOl  ON  BOABI)  THB  **  WABBIOS 

THB  TEAB  1864. 


»( 


HULK  DUBINO 


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Febnin724  „ 

9 

6 

6 

5 

12 

11 

6 

12 

— 

39 

ManshU      „ 

1 

1 

2 

1 

1 

1 

1 

^^ 

— 

4 

»      24      „     . 

m.^ 

— 

2 

2 

6 

6 

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8 

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10 

April  20        „     . 

3 

1 

5 

5 

6 

6 

3 

2 

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16 

,.    27        „     , 

6 

4 

1 

1 

3 

3 

2 

— . 

1 

10 

May  1 

2 

2 

1 

1 

2 

2 

1 

— . 

— . 

6 

W      3                  9f        ' 

3 

2 

8 

3 

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1 

2 

3 

— 

10 

June  7          „     . 

7 

4 

12 

9 

10 

8 

6 

6 

_ . 

34 

99     ^^          n 

3 

3 

2 

2 

.. 

^^ 

2 

7 

..i. 

12 

August  14     „ 

6 

6 

6 

5 

7 

7 

4 

2 

—. 

20 

n        28       „ 

1 

1 

1 

1 

3 

3 

2 

4 

^ 

9 

Oetober  11     „ 

1 

1 

2 

2 

10 

9 

3 

7 

1 

21 

n      20     „ 

2 

1 

4 

4 

6 

4 

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9 

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20 

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1 

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November  2  „ 

4 

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18 

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Beoember  19  „     , 

2 

33 

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13 

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86 

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28 
273 

Totals     . 

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53 

63 

60 

86 

68 

69t 

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t  Those  vho  oould  *^  resd  and  write  well"  whea  reoehred,  or  were  "  well  educated,"  haye  siooe  made 

considerable  progress  in  arithmetic  and  other  subjects. 


THE  GBEAT  TTOKLD  OF  LOHBON. 


MILLBANK  PRI80K-TSS  COSTICT  DEPOT. 

Hillbonk  PriBon  is  only  approaclied  by  land,  in  the  case  of  tiie  imfcirhmate  coimcts  irho 
are  taken  there.  The  visitor  instinotiTely  avoids  the  luiinterestiiig  rtmt*  down  Parliament 
Street,  Abingdon  Street,  and  the  dreary  Horseferry  Eoad,  and  proceeds  to  the  prison  by 

"We  vin  suppose  bim  to  do  as  we  did,  take  the  boat  at  Hnngerford  Stedrs,  with  which 
view,  he  mnst  pass  throngh  (he  market  of  the  same  name,  which  is  cdebrated  for  its 
penny  ices  ("  the  beat  in  England"),  and  its  twopenny  omniboBCS  (direct  to  the  towns  styled 
Camden,  and  Kentish  Town),  and  also  known  aa  the  great  West-end  emporium  for  fish 
(including  periwinkles  and  shrimps),  fleah,  and  fowl.  This  daaaio  spot  was  formerly 
remarkable  for  its  periwinkle  market,  the  glory  of  which,  however,  has  now  altogether 
departed. 

The  "  Sfaoiofs  Hail,"  in  which  the  periwinkle  traffic  was  once  carried  on,  is  now,  as  a 
very  prominent  placard  informs  ns,  once  more  "  To  be  lst."  When  the  Cockney  taste  fbr 
periwinkles  appeared  to  be  dying  out,  the  hall  in  question  was  made  the  receptacle  for 
various  models,  which  possessed  no  sort  of  interest  to  the  dght-seer;  after  which 
it  was  converted  into  a  "Mesmeric  Saloon,"  which  took  an  equally  slight  hold  on  the 
public  mind.  Then  it  was  the  site  of  various  aihet  failures,  and  recently  it  became  a 
Segistration  and  Advertisement  Agency,  but,  as  it  was  imposible  to  descend  any  lower  in 
the  scale  of  inutility,  it  was,  on  this  scheme  being  abandoned,  finally  closed,  and  there  is  now 
some  probability  of  its  exterior  bdng  turned  to  advantage  as  a  hoarding  for  the  exhibitioii  of 
external  rather  than  internal  placards. 

Passing  along  the  arcade,  with  its  massive  granite  pillars,  we  notice  the  "Epping 
House,"  celebrated  for  Epping  and  other  proyinoial  butters  so  skilfolly  manu&otuied  in 
London.  Then  suddenly  our.eyes  and  noses  are  attracted  by  the  "  Hot  Uxat  un>  Fbdit  Piks," 
exposed  on  a  kind  of  fishmonger's  board,  in  front  of  an  open  window,  which  also  exhibits 
an  announcement  to  the  effect  that  there  is  a  "  Omteti  Dining-Boom  TTp-stairs." 

Then  come  the  poulterers'  shops,  with  the  live  cooks  and  hens  in  coops,  and  the 
scarlet  combe  and  black  plumage  of  the  birds  peeping  throngh  the  wick^-baskets  at  ihe 
door,  while  dead  geese,  with  their  limp  flufi^  necks,  are  hanging  over  the  shelves  of  the  open 
shop. 


MILLBANE  PItlSON.  288 

At  the  coiner  is  the  graud  pezmy  ioe  shop,  the  **  Tortoni's,"  of  Hmigerford.  Boys  are 
feastiiig  within,  and  scooping  the  frozen  ffyrap  in  spooni^  out  of  the  diminutiTe  glasses, 
wliile  black-chinned  and  dark-eyed  Italians  are  moulding  their  *'ffaufres"  in  large  flat 
cmrluig  irons,  above  a  portable  stove. 

Before  reaching  the  bridge  we  notice  a  row  of  enterprising  fishmongers  who  are  spocxi- 
lating  in  the  silvery  salmoni  the  white-bellied  tnrbot,  the  scarlet  lobster^  the  dim-coloured 
crab,  and  the  mackerel  with  its  metallic  green  back,  and  who  salute  the  passers-by, 
as  they  hurry  to  catch  the  boat,  with  subdued  cries  of  ''  Wink,  winks  V*  or  ''Any  fine  serrimps 
to-day!" 

The  subterranean  music-hall  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the  market,  promises  unheard- 
of  attractions  for  the  evening.  The  Dolphin  and  Swan  Taverns,  on  either  side,  used  to  be 
rivals,  in  the  days  when  holiday-makers,  in  the  absence  of  steam-boat  accommodation, 
used  to  drink  and  smoke,  and  pick  periwinkles,  on  the  roofs  **  commanding  a  fine  view  (of 
the  mud)  of  the  river,"  and  fancy  the  stench  was  invigorating  and  refreshing,  as  they 
flparingly  threw  their  halfpence  to  the  mud-larks,  who  disported  themselves  so  joyously  in 
the  filth  beneath. 

CazeMLy  avoiding  the  toll-gate,  we  proceed  along  a  narrow  passage  by  the  side,  formed 
for  the  ben^t  of  steam-boat  passengers.  The  line  of  placards  beside  the  bridge-house 
celebrates  the  merits  of  ''Dowk's  Hais,"  and  **  Coofeb's  Hi^oic  Pobt&aits,"  or  teach  us 
how  Gordon  Gumming  (in  Scotch  attire)  saves  his  fellow-creatores  firom  the  jaws  of 
roaring  lions  by  means  of  a  flaming  firebrand. 

We  hurry  along  the  bridge,  with  its  pagoda-like  piers,  which  serve  to  support  the  iron 
chains  suspending  the  platform,  and  turn  down  a  flight  of  winding  steps,  bearing  a  consider- 
able resemblance  to  the  entrance  of  a  vault  or  cellar. 

On  the  covered  coal  barges,  that  are  dignifled  by  the  name  of  the  floating  pier,  are 
officials  in  uniform,  with  bands  round  their  hats,  bearing  mysterious  inscriptions,  such  as 
L.  and  W.  S.  B.  C,  the  meaning  of  which  is  in  vain  guessed  at  by  persons  who  have  only 
enough  time  to  enable  them  to  get  off  by  the  next  boat,  and  who  have  had  no  previous 
acquaintance  with  the  London  and  Westminster  Steam  Boat  Company.  The  words  ''Pay 
Here  "  are  inscribed  over  little  wooden  houses,  that  remind  one  of  the  retreats  generally 
found  at  the  end  of  suburban  gardens ;  and  there  are  men  within  to  receive  the  money  and 
dispense  the  ''  checks,"  who  have  so  theatrical  an  air,  that  they  appear  like  money-takers 
who  have  been  removed  in  their  boxes  to  Hungerford  Stairs  fix>m  some  temple  of  the  legiti- 
mate drama  that  has  recently  become  insolvent. 

We  take  our  ticket  amid  cries  of  "  l^ow  then,  mum,  this  way  for  Creemome !"  "  Oo's 
for  TJngerford?"  "Any  one  for  Lambeth  or  Chelsea  ?"  and  have  just  time  to  set  foot  on  the 
boat  before  it  shoots  through  the  bridge,  leaving  behind  the  usual  proportion  of  persons  who 
have  just  taken  their  tickets  in  time  to  miss  it. 

Barges,  black  with  coal,  are  moored  in  the  roads  in  long  parallel  lines  beside  the  bridge 
on  one  side  the  river,  and  on  the  other  there  are  timber-yards  at  the  water's  edge,  crowded 
with  yellow  stacks  of  deal.  On  the  right  bank,  as  we  go,  are  seen  the  shabby-looking  lawns 
at  the  back  of  Privy  Gardens  and  Bichmond  Terrace,  which  run  down  to  the  river,  and  which 
might  be  let  out  at  exorbitant  rents  if  the  dignity  of  the  proprietors  would  only  allow  them 
to  convert  their  strips  of  sooty  grass  into  "  eligible  "  coal  wharves. 

Westminster  Bridge  is  latticed  over  with  pile-work;  the  red  signal-boards  above  the 
arches  point  out  the  few  of  which  the  passage  is  not  closed.  The  parapets  are  removed, 
and  replaced  by  a  dingy  hoarding,  above  which  the  tops  of  carts,  and  occasionally  the  driver 
of  a  Hansom  cab  may  be  seen  passing  along. 

After  a  slight  squeak,  and  a  corresponding  jerk,  and  amid  the  cries  from  a  distracted  boy 
of  "Ease  her!"  "  Stop  her !"  " Back  her !"  as  if  Ihe  poor  boat  were  suffering  some  sudden 
pain,  the  steamer  is  brought  to  a  temporary  halt  at  Westminster  pier. 


284  THE  QEEAT  WOfiLD  OP  LOITDOir. 

Then,  as  the  boat  dashes  wiih  a  loud  noise  through  one  of  the  least  nnsonnd  of  the  axxshes 
of  the  bridge,  we  come  in  ^nt  of  the  "New  Houses  of  Parliamenty  with  their  architecture 
and  decorations  of  Gk)thic  biscuit-ware.  Here  are  the  tall  dock-tower,  with  its  huge  empty 
sockets  for  the  reception  of  the  clocks  and  its  scaffolding  of  bird-cage  work  at  the  top,  and 
the  lofty  massiye  square  tower,  like  that  of  Cologne  Cathedral,  surmounted  with  its  cranes. 

Behind  is  the  white-looking  Abbey,  with  its  long,  straight,  black  roof,  and  its  pinnacled 
towers ;  and  a  little  farther  on,  behind  the  grimy  coal  wharves,  is  seen  a  bit  of  8t.  John's 
Church,  with  its  four  stone  turrets  standing  up  in  the  air,  and  justifying  the  popular  com* 
parison  which  likens  it  to  an  inverted  table. 

On  the  Lambeth  side  we  note  the  many  boat-builders'  yards,  and  then  ^'Bishop's  Walk," 
as  the  embanked  esplanade,  with  its  shady  plantation,  adjoining  the  Archbishop's  palace, 
is  called.  The  palace  itself  derives  more  picturesqueness  than  harmony  from  the  differences 
existing  in  the  style  and  colour  of  its  architecture,  the  towers  at  the  one  end  being  gray  and 
worm-eaten,  the  centre  reminding  us  somewhat  of  the  lincolns'  Inn  dining-hall,  while  the 
motley  character  of  the  edifice  is  rendered  more  thorough  by  the  square,  massive,  and  dark 
ruby-coloured  old  bricken  tower,  which  forms  the  eastern  extremity. 

The  yellow-gray  stone  turret  of  Lambeth  church,  close  beside  the  Archbishop's  palace, 
warns  us  that  we  aia^  approaching  the  stenches  which  have  made  Lambeth  more  celebrated 
than  the  very  dirtiest  of  German  towns.  During  six  days  in  the  week  the  effluvium  from 
the  bone-crushing  establishments  is  truly  nauseating ;  but  on  Fridays,  when  the  operation  of 
glazing  is  performed  at  the  potteries,  the  united  exhalation  from  the  south  bank  produces 
suffocation,  in  addition  to  sickness — ^the  combined  odours  resembling  what  might  be  expected 
to  arise  from  the  putrefaction  of  an  entire  Isle  of  Dogs.  The  banks  at  the  side  of  the  river 
here  are  Hned  with  distilleries,  gas  works,  and  all  sorts  of  frustories  requirflig  chimneys  of 
preternatural  dimensions.  Potteries,  with  kilns  showing  just  above  the  roofis,  are  succeeded 
by  whiting-racks,  with  the  white  lumps  shining  through  the  long,  pitchy,  black  bars ;  and 
huge  tubs  of  gasometers  lie  at  the  feet  of  the  lofty  gas-works.  Everything  is,  in  fact,  on  a 
gigantic  scale,  even  to  the  newly-whitewashed  factory  inscribed  ''Ford's  Waterproofing 
Company,"  which,  with  a  rude  attempt  at  inverted  commas,  is  declared  to  be  ''  limited." 

On  tiie  opposite  shore  we  see  Chadwick's  paving-yard,  which  is  represented  in  the  river 
by  several  lines  of  barges,  heavily  laden  with  macadamized  granite;  the  banks  being 
covered  with  paving  stones,  which  are  heaped  one  upon  the  other  like  loaves  of  bread. 

Ahead  is  Yauxhall  bridge,  with  its  open  iron  work  at  the  sides  of  the  arches,  and  at  its 
foot,  at  the  back  of  the  dismal  Horseferry  Boad,  lies  the  Millbank  prison. 

This  immense  yellow-brown  mass  of  brick-work  is  surrounded  by  a  low  wall  of  the 
same  material,  above  which  is  seen  a  multitude  of  small  squarish  windows,  and  a  series 
of  diminutive  roo&  of  slate,  like  low  retreating  foreheads.  There  is  a  systematic  irregularity 
about  the  in-and-out  aspect  of  the  building,  which  gives  it  the  appearance  of  a  gigantic 
puzzle ;  and  altogether  the  Millbank  prison  may  be  said  to  be  one  of  the  most  successfhl 
realizations,  on  a  large  scale,  of  the  ugly  in  architecture,  being  an  ungainly  combination  of 
the  mad-house  with  the  fortress  style  of  building,  for  it  has  a  series  of  martello-like  towers, 
one  at  each  of  its  many  angles,  and  was  originally  surrounded  by  a  moat,  whilst  its  long 
lines  of  embrasure-Hke  windows  are  haired,  after  the  fashion  of  Bedlam  and  St.  Luke's. 

At  night  the  prison  is  nothing  but  a  dark,  shapeless  structure,  the  hugeness  of  which  is 
made  more  apparent  by  the  bright  yellow  specks  which  shine  from  the  casements.  The  Thames 
then  roUs  by  like  a  flood  of  ink,  spangled  with  the  reflections  from  the  lights  of  Yauxhall 
bridge,  and  the  deep  red  lamps  from  those  of  the  Millbank  pier,  which  dart  downwards  into 
the  stream,  like  the  luminous  trails  of  a  rocket  reversed.  The  tall  obeliskine  chimneys 
of  the  soutiiem  bank,  which  give  Lambeth  so  Egyptian  an  aspect,  look  more  colossal  than 
ever  in  the  darkness;  while  the  river  taverns  on  either  side,  at  which  amateurs  congregate  to 
enjoy  the  prospect  and  fragrance  of  the  Thamesian  mud,  exhibit  clusters  of  light  which 


mLLBAim  FBISON.  235 

attract  the  eye  from  one  point  to  anotheri  along  the  banks,  until  it  rests  at  last  npon  West- 
minster bridge,  where  each  of  the  few  arches  which  remain  **  practicable ''  for  steam-boats 
and  barges  is  indicated  by  a  red  lamp,  which  glares  from  the  summit  of  the  yanlt  like  a 
blood-shot  eye. 


%  iv — a. 
Plan,  Eutaryy  and  Discipline  of  the  Prieon. 

liillbank  prison  was  formerly  guarded,  as  we  said,  like  a  fortress,  by  a  wide  moat, 
which  completely  snrrounded  the  exterior  wall.  This  moat  has  been  filled  up,  and  the  earth 
has  yielded  a  tolerably  large  crop  of  long,  rank  grass,  of  the  kind  peculiar  to  grayeyards, 
bearing  ample  testimony  to  the  damp  and  marshy  nature  of  the  soil.  The  narrow  circle  of 
meadow,  which  marks  where  the  moat  formerly  ran,  seems  to  afford  very  satisfiEU^tory  grazing 
to  the  solitary  cow  that  may  be  occasionally  seen  within  its  precincts. 

The  ground-plan  of  the  prison  itself  resembles  a  wheel,  of  which  the  goyemor's  house 
in  the  centre  forms  the  naye,  while  each  two  of  the  spokes  constitute  the  sides  of  six  long 
pentagons  with  triangular  bases,  and  diyergent  sides  of  equal  length,  at  the  end  of  each  of 
which  stands  a  turret  or  tower,  with  a  conical  slate  roof,  and  a  number  of  yertical  slits  for 
windows.  From  the  two  towers  the  lateral  lines  oonyerge  at  equal  inclinations  towards  the 
apex,  BO  that  each  of  the  pentagonal  figures  presents  a  triangular  front  {8ee  Oratmd^lanf 
p.  237.) 

Millbank  Ffison  is  a  modification  of  Jeremy  Bentham's  '' Panoptikon,  or  Inspection 
House."  The  ground  on  which  it  stands  was  purchased  from  the  Marquis  of  Salisbury,  in 
1799,  fior  £12,000;  and  the  building  itself,  which  was  commenced  in  1812,  cost  half  a 
million.  It  is  now  the  general  depot  for  persons  under  sentence  of  transportation,  or 
waiting  to  be  drafted  to  goyemment  jails,  and  is  the  largest  of  the  London  prisons. 

The  entire  ground  occupied  by  the  establishment  is  sixteen  acres  in  extent,  seyen  of 
which  are  taken  up  by  the  prison  itself,  and  the  buildings  and  yards  attachSd  to  it,  while 
the  remainder  is  laid  out  in  gardens,  which  are  cultiyated  by  the  conyiots. 

It  was  originally  built  for  the  confinement  of  1,200  prisoners  in  separate  cells,  but  since 
tiie  separate  system  has  been  partially  abandoned,  larger  numbers  haye  been  admitted,  and  it 
is  at  present  adapted  for  the  reception  of  about  1,300. 

When  Jeremy  Bentham  first  proposed  the  establishment  of  the  penitentiary,  his  plan 
was  announced  as  one  **  for  a  new  and  less  expensiye  mode  of  employing  and  reforming 
conyicts."  Although  the  prison  was  of  course  to  remain  a  place  of  penal  detention,  it  was 
at  the  same  time  to  be  made  a  kind  of  conyict  workshop,  in  which  the  prisoners  were  to  be 
employed  in  yarious  trades  and  manufactures,  and  to  be  allowed  to  apply  a  portion  of  their 
earmngs  to  their  own  use. 

Part  of  Bentham's  system  conristed  in  placing  the  prisoners  under  constant  suryeillance. 
From  a  room  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  the  goyemor,  and  any  one  else  who  was  admitted 
into  the  interior,  were  to  see  into  all  parts  of  the  building  at  all  periods  of  the  day,  while 
a  reflecting  apparatus  was  eyen  to  enable  them  to  watch  the  prisoners  in  their  cells  at 
nig^t  There  was  a  contriyance  also  for  putting  the  yisitor  into  immediate  oral  communi- 
cation with  any  of  the  prisoners.  This,  from  the  beginning,  proyed  a  fiedlure,  considered 
onlj  as  a  piece  of  mechanism. 

Bentham's  plan  of  constant  and  general  inspection — ^his  *'  panopticon  principle  of  super- 
yision,"  as  it  was  called,  **  was  referred  to  a  Parliamentary  Committee,  in  1810,  and,  after 
some  disenssion,  finally  rejected." 

In  1812|  two  yean  after  the  abandonment  of  Bentliam's  scheme,  which  proyided  for  the  ao- 


236  THE  GBEAT  WOBXI)  OP  LONDON. 

commodation  of '600  convicis,  it  was  determined  to  erect  a  penitentiary  for  the  reception  of  1 ,  200 
conTicts  on  the  ground  which  the  panopticon  was  to  have  occupied,  and  to  allow  each  convict 
a  separate  cell.  This  prison,  or  collection  of  prisons — ^f(»r  it  consisted  of  several  departments, 
each  of  ^  which  was  entirely  distinct — ^was  commenced  in  1813,  and  finished  in  1821. 
According  to  the  discipline  adopted  in  the  new  prison,  ''  each  convict's  time  of  imprisoment 
was  divided  into  two  portions ;  during  the  former  of  these  he  was  confined  in  a  separate 
cell,  in  which  he  worked  and  slept."  The  separation,  however,  even  imder  the  strictest 
seclusion,  was  not  complete;  the  prisoners  congregated,  &om  time  to  time,  during  the 
period  allotted  for  working  at  the  mills  or  water-machines,  or  while  taking  exercise  in  the 
airing-ground,  and  on  these  occasions  it  was  found  utterly  impossible  to  prevent  intercourse 
among  them.  After  remaining  in  the  separate  class  for  eighteen  months  or  two  years,  the 
prisoners  were  removed  to  the  second  class,  in  which  they  laboured  in  common.  The  evil 
tendency  of  this  regulation  soon  became  apparent,  and,  as  in  the  case  at  Gloucester,  the 
governor  and  chapledn  remonstrated  against  it,  alleging  that  the  good  effects  produced  by 
the  operation  of  the  discipline  enforced  in  the  first  class,  were  speedily  and  utterly  done 
away  with  on  the  prisoner's  transfer  to  the  second.  The  evil  was  so  strongly  represented 
in  the  superintendent's  committee,  that  in  March,  1832,  the  second  class  was  abolished,  and 
new  regulations  were  made  in  order  to  render  the  separation  between  the  prisoners  more 
complete  and  efifectual. 

In  time  of  the  '^  penitentiary"  system,  the  governor  of  the  prison  was  a  reverend 
gentleman,  who  placed  an  undue  reliance  on  the  efficacy  of  religious  forms.  The  prisoners, 
independently  of  their  frequent  attendance  in  the  chapel,  were  supplied,  more  than  plenti- 
fully, with  tracts  and  religious  books,  and,  in  fact,  taught  to  do  nothing  but  pray.  Even 
the  warders  were  put  to  read  prayers  to  them  in  their  cells,  and  the  convicts  taking  their 
cue  from  the  reverend  governor,  with  the  readiness  which  always  distinguishes  them,  were 
not  long  in  assuming  a  contrite  and  devout  aspect,  which,  however,  found  no  parallel  in 
their  conduct.  As  the  most  successful  simulator  of  holiness  became  the  most  favoured 
prisoner,  sanctified  looks  were,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  order  of  the  day,  and  the  most 
desperate  convicts  in  the  prison  found  it  advantageous  to  complete  their  criminal  character 
by  the  additi&  of  hypocrisy. 

This  irrational  and  demoralizing  system  ceased  with  the  reign  of  the  reverend  governor. 

By  the  Act  6  and  7  Yict.  c.  26,  it  was  provided  that  the  Q«neral  Penitentiary  at  Mill- 
bank  should  be  called  the  Millbank  Prison,  and  used  as  a  receptacle  for  such  convicts  under 
sentence  or  order  of  transportation  as  the  Secretary  of  State  might  direct  to  be  removed 
there.  '*  Thiay  are  tx)  continue  there,"  adds  the  Eirst  Eeport  of  the  Millbank  Prison  (July 
81,  1844),  in  which  an  abstract  of  the  act  is  given,  **  until  transported  according  to  law  or 
conditionally  pardoned,  or  until  they  become  entitled  to  their  freedom,  or  are  directed  by  the 
Secretary  of  State  to  be  removed  to  any  other  prison  or  place  of  confinement  in  which  they 
may  be  lawfully  imprisoned ;"  thus  appropriating  this  extensive  penal  institution  as  a  dep^ 
for  the  reception  of  all  convicts  under  sentence  or  order  of  transportation  in  Great  Britain,  in 
lieu  of  their  beiiig  sent  directly,  as  heretofi>re,  to  the  hulks. 

Although  many  of  the  prisoners  here  are  now  allowed  to  work  together,  or  '^  placed  in 
association,"  as  would  be  said  in  prison  phraseology,  the  majority  of  them  are  kept  in  separate 
confinement.  Every  prisoner  is  supplied  with  moral  or  religious  instruction.  Prisoners, 
not  of  the  Established  Church,  may  obtain  leave  to  be  absent  from  the  chapel,  and  Catholics 
hear  service  regularly  performed  by  a  minister  of  their  own  religion. 

Each  prisoner  is  employed,  unless  prevented  by  sickness,  in  such  work  as  the  gov»iior 
may  appoint,  ev^ry  day  except  Sundays,  Christftias  Day,  Good  Friday,  and  every  day  ap- 
pointed for  a  general  feist,  or  thanksgiving ;  the  hours  of  work  in  each  day  being  limited  to 
twelve,  exclusive  of  the  time  allowed  for  meals.    Prisoners  attend  to  llie  cleaning  of  the 

«  Bepoit  of  PaarUameataiy  Committee  on  Fenitontiory  Houte,  181 U 


MHXBAITK  PBISON. 


237 


pdjBODy  nnder  the  sapexintendence  of  the  warders,  and  some  also  assist  in  the  kitchen  and 
bakehouse  under  the  direetion  of  the  bakers  and  cooks. 

The  conduct  of  each  prisoner  is  carefdlly  watched  and  noted,  and  the  most  deserving 
reoeiye  a  good-conduct  badge  to  wear  on  their  dress  after  they  have  been  a  certain  time  in 
the  piison. 

MiUbank  prison,  as  we  have  before  said,  consists  of  six  pentagons  which  converge  towards 
the  centre.     On  entering  the  outer  gate,  pentagon  1  is  the  first  on  the  right,  pentagon  2  the 


Becondy  and  so  on  until  we  reach  pentagon  6,  the  last  of  the  radii  of  the  circle,  and  which  is 
immediately  on  the  left  of  the  entrance. 

Pentagon  1  contains  the  reception- ward,  in  which  the  prisoners  are  all  confined  sepa- 
rately. 

In  pentagon  2  the  prisoners  work  at  yarious. trades  in  separate  cells. 

Pentagon  3  is  devoted  to  the  women,  who  are  for  the  most  part  in  separation. 

In  pentagon  4  both  the  separate  and  associated  systems  are  pursued.  This  pentagon 
oootainB  the  infirmary. 

Pentagon  5,  besides  its  ceUs  for  separate  confinement,  contains  the  general  ward, 
which  coniiistB  of  four  cells  knocked  into  one.  This  ward  is  looked  upon  with  a  favourable 
^e  by  the  *'  old  hands/'  who  are  well  acquainted  with  the  prison  habits,  and  endeaTour  to 


238 


THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 


gain  admission  to  it  for  the  sake  of  the  conyersation  which  takes  place  thcrCi  and  whieh,  in 
spite  of  the  ''  silent  system^"  can  never  be  altogether  put  a  stop  to. 

There  are  three  floors  in  each  of  these  pentagonsi  and  four  wards  on  each  floor.* 

*  We  give^  as  unial,  the  following — 

VtATEiaKT  OF  TBB  NVlfBUl  AKD  DISPOSAL  OF  THB  OOMTIOXB  BSOBITKD  DTTO  MZLLBAmL  FXISOX 

THBOUOBOUT  THB  TBAB  1854. 


Mak  Friionmri. 


The  number  of  nude  prieonen  remftining^  on 

the  let  January,  1864,  waa 

The  number  reoeired  during  the  year  :— 

From  Dartmoor  oonyict  prison  was 
„    Portsmouth  „ 

y,    Brixton  „ 

yf    Dorohester  barracks 

„    •*  Warrior"  convict  hulk     . 

„    "Defence"  „ 

„    Stirling  Castle       ,, 
In  contract : — 

Leioester  county 

From  county  and  borough  jails 

if    Lunatic  asylum 

Soldiers  under  sentence  of  transportation 
by  courts-martial 

Total 


948 

4 
4 

25 

892 

2 

2 

68 

2 

971 
2 

41 


2,461 


These  prisoners  had  been  diq^osed  of  as  foU 

lows,  Tis.  :— 
To  Parkhurst  prison  . 

„  PentouTiile    „  ... 

,y  Philanthropic  asylum 


49 

196 

6 


251 


To  public  works : — 
Portland  prison 
Portsmouth  „ 
Brixton        „ 
"  Warrior"  hulk 
"Defence"    „ 
Dorohester  barracks 


Deceased  .... 
Transferred  to  a  lunatic  asylum 
Pardoned,  fiee 

Licensed 

Conditional  pardon 

Am  iuTalids  :— 

To  the  "  Stirling  Castle"  hulk 
„  Dartmoor  prison 

Number  remaining^  Slst  Dec,  1854 


92 

185 

1 

20 

97 

700 

51 
10 

3 
73 

1 


112 
168 


1,095 


188 


280 

697 


FtmaU  PrUoMTB, 


2461 


Bemaining  in  prison  on  Ist  Jan.,  1854      198 


Disposed  of  as  follows  :— 

Transferred  to  Female  Prison  at 

Brixton 178 

Discharged  and  licensed  •        19 

Died 1 

198 

The  greatest  number  of  male  prisoners  in  confinement  at  any  one  time  was^  

On  10th  August        ....  .    1,125 

Daily  ayerage  throughout  the  year  :— 

Males  •        .    702*8 

**  It  will  be  remembered,"  says  the  report,  "that,  in  the  above  tables,  700  couTiots  were  removed  to  Dor- 
ohester bairaoks ;  and  this  took  place  between  the  18th  and  17th  Augost,  the  cholera  having  broken  out  ou 
the  8rd  of  that  month.  ^ 

"  The  cholera  having  ceased  in  this  prison,  such  convicts  as  remained  at  Dorohester,  amounting  to  392,  were 
brought  back  to  M illbank  in  the  months  of  November  and  December,  and,  on  the  28th  December,  Dorchester 
barracks  were  finally  given  over  to  the  Ordnance  authorities." 

The  700  convicts  removed  to  Dorchester  were  disposed  of  as  ibUows : — 

Died 1 

Bemoved  to  Pentonville         .        •        .        .'        8 
Parkhurst  ....        70 

Portsmouth  ....        99 

PorUand 130 

HiUbank 392 


II 


700 


THE  CHAPEL  AI  BBIXTOK. 


KILLBANK  FBISON. 


239 


There  is  an  officer  to  evorj  two  wards,  and  each  ward  contains  thirty  cells,  one  of 
whidi  is  a  store  celL 

Every  floor  has  its  instmcting  officer,  but  the  instmcting  officers  appointed  by  the  prison 
authorities  teach  nothing  but  tailoring,  and  prisoners  who  are  anxious  to  learn  some  other 
trade,  must  obtain  permission  to  enter  a  wa^  in  which  there  is  some  prisoner  capable  of 
giving  them  the  desired  instruction. 

All  the  cells  are  well  ventilated,  and  the  prison  generally  is  kept  scrupulously  dean, 
but  the  site  of  the  building  is  low  and  marshy,  and  although  enormous  sums  have  been 
spent  in  draining  and  improving  the  soil,  its  dampness  still  renders  it  very  unhealthy'>-«s 
may  be  seen  by  the  following  comparison  of  the  number  of  cases  of  illness  occurring  in  the 
several  oonvict  prisons  throughout  the  Metropolis  i — 

TABUS  SHOWUrO  THB  PB&  CBNTAOB  OF  GASES  OF  ILLNESS  TO  THE  KU1CBE&  OF  FRISOKBBS  PASSING 
THEOVOH  EACH  OF  THE  MBTBOFOLITAK  CONTICT  FEISONB  IN  THE  TBAa  1854. 


ihsMTOiryiLUl  *       .        •       . 

Bhixton  .        .        .        .        . 

Hulks  (''JDefinee"  and  "  Warrior*') 
MiLLBANK  {mdudmff  females)  . 


Number  ot  Gontiets 

pa08iiifr  through 
the  rriflon  duri^ 
the  year. 

925 

664  * 
1,513 
2,659 


Nombet  of  Cases 

of  Illneee 

dnrinff  the 

year. 

1,732 

155 

723 

11,890 


Per  Gentage  of 
Illness  to 

the  Number  of 
Prisoners. 

187-2 

23-3 

47-7 
4471 


Total        ....       5,761  14,500  251-7 

At  Hillbank,  therefore,  more  than  twice  as  many  cases  of  illness,  in  proportion  to  the 
prison  population,  occur  among  the  convicts  as  at  Fentonville  in  the  course  of  the  year;  ten 
times  as  many  as  at  the  Hulks ;  and  no  less  than  nineteen  times  as  many  as  at  Brixton,  which 
is  the  healthiest  of  all  the  metropolitan  government-prisons. 

The  per  oentages  of  removals  and  pardons  on  medical  grounds,  as  well  as  deaths,  with 
r^;aid  to  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners,  exhibit  sinular  marked  differences  in  the 
rektive  healthiness  of  the  several  convict  prisons  of  London ;  thus : — 

Per  Centage  of 

RemoTals  on 

Medical  Orounds. 

0-19 


Fentonville 
Bhixtoh    . 
Hulks 
Millbank 


0-00 
0-21 
2*12 


Per  Oentage  of 

Pardons  on 

Medical  Orounds. 

0-96 
100 
0*21 
QUO 


Percentage 

of 

Deaths. 

110 

1-00 

2-4 

6-91* 


Accordingly,  we  perceive  that  at  Millbank  there  are  nearly  seven  times  as  many  deaths 
in  the  year  as  at  Brixton,  and  more  than  three  times  as  many  as  at  the  Hulks. 

The  greater  portion  of  the  convicts  confined  at  Millbank  are  employed  in  making 
Boldien'  dolhing,  biscuit-bags,  hammocks,  and  miscellaneous  articles  for  the  army  and  navy, 
and  other  prisons,  as  well  as  the  shirts,  handkerchiefs,  and  cloth  coats  and  trousers  worn  by 
the  prisoners  thems6lve8.f    Others  are  occupied^  and  receive  instruction,  in  gardening. 

*  It  ii  much  to  be  regretted  that  there  is  no  uniform  statistical  method  of  registering  the  medical  retoms 
of  the  sevezal  prisons,  both  in  London  and  the  oonntiy.  Some  of  the  medical  officers,  as  those  of  Millbank 
md  PentonviUe,  &vonr  us  with  elaborate  per  centages  of  the  cases  of  iUness,  deaths,  &c.,  whereas,  the 
iBgdtff»>  statistica  of  tiie  Hulks  and  Brixton  are  given  in  the  crudest  possible  manner,  and  not  only  almost 
to  the  inquirer  as  they  stand,  but  signally  defecti7e  in  their  arrangement  in  these  sciontiflo  days. 

fOCGUPATIONS  CASnnO)  ON  IN  THB  BBVS&AL  PENTA00N8  AND  WARDS   OP  MOXBANK  P&I80N. 


Ward. 

Pentagon  3. 

Pentagon  8. 

Pentagon  4. 

Pentagons. 

Pentagon  6. 

A 
B 
C 
B 
£ 

Pickeni 

Reception  Ward 

Tailors 

Tailon 

Tailors 

Tailon 

Shoemaken 

Shoemaken 

Artificen 

Tailon 

Tailon 

Tailon 

Women 
Women 
Women 
Women 
'Women 
Women 

Tailon 

Tailon 

Infirmary 

TaUon 

Infirmary 

Tailon 

Weaven 

WeaTcn 

Tailon 

Tailon 

Tailon 

Picken 

Picken 
Picken 
Tailon 
Tailon 
Tailon 
Tailon 

ir 


240 


THE  GKEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


At  the  tiine  of  our  visit  there  were  altogether  828  prisonerB  {i.e,f  472  less  than  the  com- 
plement) confined  within  the  walls ;  of  these  655  were  males,  and  1 73  females,  and  they 
were  distributed  throughout  the  prison  in  the  following  manner : — 


DISTRIBUTION 

AND 

NUMBKR 

OF    OONTICTB  IN    HILLBANK    FRI80N,   MAT  24,    1856. 

rentagon  1. 

1    Pentagoa  3. 

• 
Pentagon  4. 

1 
Pentagon  5. 

Pentagoa  6. 

General  Ward. 

1 

89 

6  Si 
82 

1 

28* 

IS 

21 

1 

29 

IS 

80 

1 

O  « 

ii 

89 

a.- 

22 

1 

*&  • 

O  m 

|5 

15 

23 

Si 

0-- 

12 

29 

-.a 

ii 

36 

t 

28 

H 

iS 

A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

A 

B 

0 

B 

80 

29 

B 

29 

81 

B 

28 

22 

B 

15 

30 

B 

28 

24 

B 

82 

— 

C 

30 

C 

30 

18 

C 

31 

32 

D 

80 

14 

C 

30 

21 

C 

80 

21 

C 

82 

• 

D 

SO 

D 

SO 

23 

D 

16 

15 

F 

60 

55 

D 

80 

26 

D 

80 

20 

D 

28 

_ 

E 

SO 

£ 

29 

21 

Penal 

O 

60 

50 

E 

80 

17 

B 

28 

22 

F 

80 

F 

29 

26 

D 
Asao. 

E 
Asao. 

F 

15 
18 
19 

14 
19 
82 

H 

60 

47 

F 

29 

25 

F 

80 

21 

1 

Total. 

149 

33 

Total. 

176 

187 

Total. 

157 

173 

1 

Total. 

267 

210 

Total. 

149 

142  1 

Total. 

176 

134 

lotal. 

120 

TOTAL  MTJMBBB  OF    FRI80NB&S  : 


In  Pentagon  1 
Pentagon  2 
Pentagon  3 
Pentagon  4 


32 
187 
173 
210 


In  Pentagon  5  :=  142 
Pentagon  6  =  134 
General  Ward       0 


In  the  whole  prison  . 


828 


The  Present  Use  and  Beguhtums  of  the  Frtstm. 

The  only  entrance  to  die  prison  at  Millbank  is  facing  the  Thames. 

The  door  of  the  **  outer  gate,"  on  the  day  of  our  first  visit,  was  opened  in  answer  to  otir 
summons  by  the  usual  official,  in  the  same  half-polioe-half-coast-guard  kind  of  uniform,  and 
we  were  ushered  into  a  smaU.  triangular  hall,  with  a  staircase,  leading  to  the  gate-keeper*8 
rooms  aboye,  crammed  into  one  comer,  and  a  table  facing  it,  on  which  were  ranged  a  series 
of  portable  letter-boxes  not  unlike  the  poor-boxes  to  be  seen  at  hospitals  and  churches.  On 
one  of  these  was  written,  ^'Mdle  Officers*  Zetter-hox,**  and  on  another,  *' Female  Officers*  Letter- 
box;*'  a  third  was  labelled,  **  Prisoners*  Letter-hox**  and  a  fourth,  '*  Clerk  of  the  Works**  A 
few  letters  were  on  the  table  itself,  and  over  its  edge  hung  a  long  strip  of  paper  inscribed  with 
a  list  of  the  officers  on  leave  for  the  night  This  we  learnt  was  for  the  guidance  of  the  gate- 
keeper, so  that  he  might  know  what  officers  went  off  duty  that  evening ;  in  which  case— our 
informant  told  us — they  were  allowed  to  leave  the  prison  at  a  quarter-past  six  p.x.,  and 
expected  to  return  at  a  quarter-past  six  the  next  morning  to  resume  their  duties— -each 
warder  passing  one  night  in,  and  one  night  out  of,  the  prison. 

Hence  we  were  directed  across  the  long  wedge-shaped  "  outer  yard  "  of  the  prison — a 
mere  triangular  slip,  or  "  tongue,"  as  it  is  called,  of  bare,  gravelled  ground,  between  the 
diverging  sides  of  the  first  and  last  pentagons ;  and  so  we  reached  the  barred  ''inner  gate,*' 
set,  within  a  narrow  archway  at  the  apex,  as  it  were,  of  the  yard.  Here  the  duty  of  the 
gate-keeper  is  to  keep  a  list  of  all  persons  entering  and  quitting  the  prison,  and  to  allow  no 
inferior  officer  to  pass  without  an  order  from  the  governor.* 

*  RULES  EXHIBITED  AT  THE  INNER  OATB. 

<(  £very  officer  or  servant  of  the  establishment  who  shall  bring  or  carry  out,  or  endeavour  to  bring  or 
cany  out,  or  knowingly  allow  to  be  brought  or  carried  out,  to  or  for  any  convict,  any  money,  clothing,  pio- 
visions,  tobacco,  letters,  papers,  or  other  articles  whatsoever  not  allowed  by  the  nilee  of  the  prison,  shall  \m 


MILLBANK  PBI80N.  241 

We  were  fhen  condncted  through  a  saccesaion  of  corridors  to  the  governor's  room,  which 
is  situate  in  the  range  of  huildings  at  the  base  of  pentagon  1,  forming  one  side  of  the  hex- 
agonal court  surrounding  the  chapel  that  constitutes  the  centre  of  the  prison.  This  was  an 
ordinary,  but  neat,  apartment,  the  furniture  of  whioh  consisted  principally  of  a  large  official 
writing-table ;  and  the  end  window  of  which,  facing  the  principal  entrance,  was  strongly 
barred,  probably  with  no  view  to  preyent  either  egress  or  ingress,  but  merely  for  the  sake 
of  being  in  keeping  with  the  other  windows  of  the  establishment.  This  window  is 
flanked  by  two  doors,  through  which  the  prisoners  are  admitted  on  their  reception  into 
the  prison,  or  whenever,  from  misconduct  or  any  other  cause,  they  are  summoned  into  the 
governor's  presence.  On  such  occasions  a  rope  is  thrown  across  the  room,  and  forms  a 
species  of  bar,  at  which  the  convicts  take  their  positions. 

The  governor,  on  learning  the  object  of  our  visit,  directed  one  of  the  principal  warders  to 
conduct  us  through  the  several  wards,  and  explain  to  us  the  various  details  of  the  prison/ 

"Millbank,*'  he  said,  in  answer  to  a  question  we  put  to  him,  "is  the  receptade  for  aU 
ike  convicts  of  England^  Wales,  and  Scotland,  hut  not  for  those  of  Ireland,  which  has  a  convict 
establishment  of  its  oum,** 

Males  and  females  of  all  ages  are  received  here,  the  prison  being  the  dep6t  for  '^convicts  " 
of  every  description.  When  a  man  isi^onvicted,  and  sentenced  either  to  transportation  or  penal 
servitude,  he  remains  in  the  prison  in  which  he  was  confined  previous  to  his  trial,  imtil  such 
time  as  the  order  of  the  Secretary  of  State  is  forwarded  for  his  removal ;  and  he  is  then 
transferred  to  us,  his  "  caption*  papers  "  (in  which  are  stated  the  nature  of  his  offence,  the 
date  of  his  conviction,  and  the  length  of  his  sentence)  being  sent  with  him.  From  this  prison 
be  is,  after  a  time,  removed  to  some  "probationary  "  prison  (to  undergo  a  certain  term  of 
separate  confinement)  such  as  that  at  Pentonville,  or  to  some  such  establishment  in  the 
countiy;  and  thence  he  goes  to  the  public  works  either  at  Portland,  Portsmouth,  or  the 
Hulksy  or  else  he  is  transported  to  Gibraltar,  Bermuda,  or  Western  Australia,  where  he 
remains  tiU  the  completion  of  his  sentence. 

On  the  arrival  of  the  prisoners  at  Millbank,  the  governor  informed  us,  they  are  examined 
by  the  surgeon,  when,  if  pronounced  free  from  contagious  disease,  they  are  placed  in  the 
reception  ward,  and  afterwards  distributed  throughout  the  prison  according  to  circiunstances, 
having  been  previously  bathed  and  examined,  naked,  as  at  Pentonville. 

''  If  a  prisoner  be  ordered  to  be  placed  in  association  on  medical  grounds,"  added  the 
governor,  "  the  order  is  entered  in  the  book  in  red  ink,  otherwise  he  is  located  in  one  of  the 
various  pentagons  for  six  months,  to  undergo  confinement  in  separate  cell/' 

On  entering  his  cell,  each  prisoner's  hair  is  cut,  and  the  rules  of  the  prison  are  read  over 
to  him,  the  latter  process  being  repeated  every  week,  and  the  hair  cut  as  often  as  required. 

When  the  convict  is  young  he  is  sent  as  soon  as  possible  to  Parkhurst,  provided  he  be  a 
fit  sabject,  and  not  convicted  of  any  heinous  offence.  In  the  case  of  a  very  hardened 
offender,  when  there  is  a  probability  of  his  doing  considerable  mischief,  it  is  for  the 
diieetor  of  Parkhurst  to  decide  whether  or  not  he  will  accept  him. 

When  the  young  convict  is  of  extremely  tender  years,  application  is  immediately  made, 
by  Uie  imibank  authorities,  for  his  removal  to  the  **  Philanthropic,"  at  Eeigate,  her 
Majesty's  pardon  being  granted  conditionally  on  his  being  received  there. 

"  One  boy,"  said  the  governor,  "  went  away  on  Tuesday ;  he  was  not  twelve,  and  had 
been  sentenced  for  stealing  some  lead,  after  a  previous  conviction.     We  have  one  here,"  he 

UftOtm&L  supended  from  his  o£Sce  by  the  governor  of  the  prison,  who  shall  report  the  offence  to  a  director, 
▼bo^  upon  proof  of  the  offence,  may  cause  the  offender  to  be  apprehended  and  carried  before  a  jiutioe  of  the 
peace,  who  shall  be  empowered  to  hear  and  determine  any  such  offence  in  a  summary  way;  and  every  such 
oAeer  or  lenrant,  upon  conviction  of  such  offence  before  a  justice  of  the  peace,  shall  be  liable  to  pay  a  penalty 
not  exceeding  fifty  pounds,  or,  in  the  diacretion  of  the  justice,  to.  be  imprisoned  in  the  common  jail  or  house 
of  oosreelioii,  diere  to  be  kept,  with  or  without  hard  labour,  for  any  term  not  exceeding  six  calendar  months.'* 


242  THE  GBEAT  WOBXD  OF  LONDON. 

continued,  ^'at  this  moment,  a  obild  of  betwe^  twelve  and  thirteen,  -who  bad  been 
employed  as  a  clerk,  and  bad  robbed  bis  employer  of  between  ten  and  twelve  tbonsand 
ponnds."  Tbe  child,  however,  we  afterwards  learnt,  had  become  frightened,  and  taken  the 
money  back ;  but  one  of  his  reUtions  had  proceeded  against  him  for  the  theft,  with  the  view 
of  getting  him  admitted  into  a  reformatory  institution. 

"  We  consider  prisoners  of  tender  years,"  the  governor  went  on,  "  up  to  about  thirteen. 
I  remember  a  child,"  he  added,  ''  of  not  more  than  nine  years  of  age,  who  had  been  twelve 
times  in  prison — ^I  do,  indeed.  That's  some  years  ago  now.  There's  the  receipt  for  the 
child  who  lefk  us  the  other  day,"  he  added,  as  he  handed  us  the  following  oertifiQate  i — 

"  CSRTIFXCATS  Of  DI8CHAEGB, 

uA W . 

"  71m  ii  to  eeriify,  that  I  have  this  day  received,  fr<m  the  euetody  of  the  governor  of  XSIbank 

prieon,  A W ^,  aeoording  to  the  terme  of  the  conditiandl  pardon  granied  to  him. 

Dated  the  lUh  day  of  May^  1856. 

"  Fhilanthropio  Farm  School,  BfidMUy  May  22,  1856. 

^^For  th$  Sev>  Sidnsy  Tubnem,  Becretary}* 

* 

There  have  not  been  any  young  girls  at  Millbank  lately  he  told  us ;  some  had  been  sent 
to  Manor  Hall,  but  very  few  girls  of  tender  years  have  been  received  at  the  Penitentiary. 

"  I  cannot  say  what  would  be  done  with  very  young  girls,"  said  the  governor;  *^1  should 
have  to  refer  for  orders.     There  were  two  of  fifteen  here,  but  they  were  the  youngest." 

''  The  females,"  he  continued,  ''  go  to  the  convict  prison  at  Brixton,  after  they  have 
been  with  me  nine  or  twelve  months,  according  to  the  vacancies  there.  The  males  go  to 
Pentonville;  in  fkct,  we  keep  Pentonville  up.  Those  that  remain  here  go  to  the  public 
works,  either  to  Portland,  Portsmouth,  or  the  Hulks,  according  to  circumstances.  Occa- 
sionally we  send  some  to  Gibraltar  or  Bermuda,  and  to  Western  Australia.  Of  course  those 
we  send  to  Western  Australia  can  only  be  transports ;  they  can't  be  penal-service  men. 
This  prison  contains  young  prisoners,  old  prisoners,  female  prisoners,  and  invaUdb.  Old 
prisoners,  who  are  able  to.  perform  light  labour,  are  sent  to  Dartmoor.  Those  incapable  of 
light  labour,  or  of  any  labour  at  all,  are  sent  to  the  'Stirling  Castle,'  invalid  hulk  at 
Portsmouth." 

"  If  the  prisoners  are  of  very  tender  years,"  the  govOTnor  went  on,  **  I  generally  put 
them  in  large  rooms,  which  you  wiU  see.  We  have  six  distinct  prisons  here— K)ne  in  each 
pentagon,"  he  added,  '*  and,  with  the  general  ward,  I  may  say  we  have  seven,  for  it  is 
quite  distinct  from  the  others.  Pentagon  3,  which  contains  the  female  convicts^  is  q[uite 
shut  off  from  the  others,  and  opened  with  a  separate  key.'^ 

"  We  have  two  distinct  forms  of  discipline  here,"  continued  the  governor.  ^'  We  pursue 
the  separate  system  for  the  first  six  months,  unless  the  medical  officer  certifies  that  the  prisoner 
cannot  bear  it,  in  which  case  we  remove  him  immediately  into  association.  When  t&e  men 
are  put  together,  the  silent  system  is  enforced — ^that  is  to  say,  we  endeavour  to  enforce  it ;  for 
I  need  not  tell  you,  that  when  seventy  or  eighty  men  are  in  the  same  place  they  are  sore  to 
talk,  do  what  we  may  to  prevent  them. 

The  governor  here  drew  up  a  curtain,  and  showed  us  a  large  ground-plan  of  the  poriiEmn, 
hanging  on  the  wall.  We  expressed  some  surprise  at  its  being  covered,  and  inquired  what 
purpose  the  curtain  served. 

"  The  prisoners'  eyes  are  so  sharp,"  was  the  reply,  "  that  they  would  understand  the 
entire  arrangement  of  the  prison  at  once.  They  would  discover  the  weak  points  of  tiie 
building,  and  attempt  to  escape.  We  had  one  man  here,"  he  proceeded,  ''  named  Balph 
(a  regular  Jack  Sheppard),  who  tried  to  get  out.  He  made  fidse  keys  in  his  cell.  The 
cocoa-mugs  used  at  Ihat  time  to  be  made  of  pewter— we  have  thcon  of  tin  now-<and 


KILLBAJiTS:  PBISON.  24S 

he  actoaUy  melted  the  metal  oyer  his  gaa-light,  and  then  moulded  ii  into  keys.  I  will  show 
yon  them;"  and  accordingly  opening  his  desk,  he  took  from  it  several  rudely-made  keys. 

"With  these/'  said  the  goyemoTy  as  he  presented  them  to  us  in  a  hunch,  '<  he  could  have 
opened  eyery  door  in  the  prison." 

Thisman,  we  learnt,  was  a  most  daring  and  desperate  character,  and  the  terror  of  eyery 
one  he  came  near,  when  at  liherty.    We  inquired  how  he  behayed  in  the  prison. 

"  Be  was  as  quiet  as  could  be,"  was  the  governor's  answer ;  '*  always  well*behayed,  and 
never  abused  any  one." 

**  Yon  v^uld  have  thought  butter  would  not  have  melted  in  his  mouth,"  said  the 
warder,  when  referred  to  for  his  corroborative  testimony.  *'  He  was  quite  an  uneducated 
manyf'  the  officer  went  on  to  say;  '^indeed,  he  got  what  little  education  he  had  from  having 
been  tranifported. 

The  prisoners  are  sometimes  very  violent,  but  not  often.  **  Look  at  this  hammock-ring," 
said  the  governor,  as  he  produced  a  heavy  iron  ring,  with  a  rope  attached  to  it;  '^you've  heard 
of  one  of  our  men  being  nearly  murdered  ?  Well,  this  i<i  what  it  was  done  with,"  he  said, 
giving  it  a  gentie  swing.  '*  Luckily,  our  man  was  very  near  to  him,  so  he  was  not  so  much 
hurt  as  he  might  have  been." 

**  Here's  another  instrument  for  opening  a  bolt,"  and  he  then  called  our  attention  to  an 
iron  rod,  formed  out  of  two  pieces,  which  were  joined  together  with  a  hinge,  like  the  handle 
of  a  lady's  parasol,  and  could  be  doubled  up  together  somewhat  in  the  same  manner. 

**  They  push  this  through  the  keyhole,"  he  said,  as  he  extended  it  before  us,  *'  and  let  the 
further  end  drop.     Then  they  move  it  about  until  they  feel  the  bolt,  and  push  it  back." 

"  I  have  been  a  number  of  years  connected  with  prisons,"  pursued  our  informant,  "  and 
yet  I  find  there's  something  firesh  to  be  learnt  every  day.  How  they  get  the  impressions  o{ 
the  locks  must  appear  to  strangers  not  a  little  wonderful.  They  do  that  witii  a  piece  of  soap." 

The  conversation  then  took  another  turn.  "  We  don't  profess  to  teach  anything  here 
hut  tailoring,"  the  governor  went  on;  ''but  if  they're  shoemakers  by  trade  they  go  to 
fihoemakdng,  or,  if  they  don't  know  any  trade,  perhaps  we  put  them  to  pick  coir.  When  a 
man  attempts  to  commit  suicide  I  always  put  him  to  pick  coir,  so  that  he  may  have  neither 
toola,  nor  knives,  nor  needles  to  do  any  harm  with." 

"  It's  a  great  thing,"  added  the  governor,  ''  to  make  a  prisoner  feel  that  he  is  employed 
on  some  useful  work.  Nothing  disgusts  a  man,  and  makes  him  feel  so  querulous,  as  to  let 
him  know  that  he  is  labouring  and  yet  doing  nothing — ^like  when  working  at  the  tread-wheel. 
I  am  of  opinion  that  to  employ  men  on  work  which  they  know  and  see  is  useful  has  the 
best  possible  effect  upon  men's  characters,  and  much  increases  their  chances  of  reformation. 
Every  other  kind  of  labour  irritates  and  hardens  them.  After  twenty  thousand  prisoners 
have  passed  through  one's  hands,  one  must  have  had  some  littie  experience  on  such  matters. 
There  was  a  tread-wheel  on  the  premises  here,  for  the  use  of  penal  or  second-probation 
men,  and  those  only ;  but  its  use  has  been  discontinued  for  some  months." 

All  men  of  long  sentences,  or  who  are  known  to  be  of  desperate  disposition,  are  put  in  the 
middle  floor  of  each  pentagon,  which  is  considered  to  be  the  strongest  part  of  the  prison,  and 
bfldgee  are  given  to  prisoners  who  conduct  themselves  well. 

**  On  the  first  of  every  month,"  said  the  governor,  ''  the  conduct-book  is  brought  to 
me ;  and  in  this  is  kept  a  list  of  all  the  men  who  have  been  six  months  in  the  prison.  Here 
it  is,  you  see,  and  in  the  first  column  is  the  register-number  of  each  prisoner,  in  the 
aeoond  his  name,  in  the  third  his  location  in  the  prison,  in  the  fourth  his  number  of  reports, 
and  in  the  last  column  the  folio  of  the  book  which  contains  those  reports.  liow,  here's  one 
man,  you  see,  who  has  been  rq^rted  six  times,  so  he  wouldn't  get  a  badge ;  and  here,  at 
the  eand  of  the  book,  is  a  list  of  those  men  who  have  been  nine  months  in  the  prison,  and 
who  are  to  get  a  second  badge.    It's  a  great  thing  to  a  man,"  he  added,  "to  get  his  badge, 


244  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

for  if  he  goes  from  here  without  one,  and  in  the  tiiird  claas,  that  entails  six  months' 
additiontd  time  before  his  name  can  be  submitted  for  a  ticket-of-leave." 

''  Oh,  yes,  it's  a  great  thing/'  chimed  in  the  warder,  **  to  haye  a  badge.  The  men  think 
a  great  deal  of  it,  and  feel  the  loss  of  it  greatly." 

"  We  have  first,  second,  and  third  class  prisoners,  according  to  their  conduct,"  said  the 
governor,  *'  and  these  classifications  are  made  before  the  men  go  to  the  public  works.  The  fact 
of  a  prisoner's  being  badged  always  shows  him  to  be  a  well-behaved  man ;  but  even  when  a 
man  has  behaved  very  badly,  if  he  reforms  at  last,  I  give  him  a  first-class  character,  or  else 
he  would  become  desperate  on  going  down  to  the  public  works,  and  the  governor  would 
have  a  very  hard  time  of  it.  Every  man  is  also  classed  according  to  education  when  he 
goes  away,  but  in  that  matter  the  first  class  represents  the  least  educated." 

We  were  anxious  to  ascertain  which  class  of  criminals  gave  most  trouble  to  the  prison 
authorities.  **  Sometimes,"  said  the  governor,  in  answer  to  our  inquiries,  *'  the  most  despe- 
rate characters  outside  the  prison  are  the  best  conducted  inside  the  walls.  It's  the  little,  petty 
London  pickpocket,  who  has  been  all  his  life  at  bad  courses,  that  turns  out  the  most  difficult 
fellow  of  all  to  deal  with.  These  characters  are  most  troublesome.  .They  are  up  to  all  sorts 
of  roguery  and  mischief;  and  we  find  the  same  thing  when  they  come  from  the  manufiEU^tor- 
ing  districts.  Your  men  who  have  committed  heavy  offences,  and  who  are  sentenced  to 
some  long  punishment,  are  very  amenable  to  discipline  and  most  easy  to  deal  with.  Give  me 
long-sentence  men — I  say  it  as  the  governor  of  a  prison — ^they  won't  try  to  escape.  Most  of 
them  have  never  committed  another  offence  in  the  course  of  their  lives;  but  the  London  pick- 
pockets have  been  at  it  all  their  lives,  from  their  earliest  childhood." 

''  There  are  not  many  cases  of  escape  from  prison  now,"  said  the  governor,  '*  but  I  remem- 
ber two  which  occurred  at -Dartmoor,  in  which  some  men  succeeded  in  getting  off.  One  of 
them  got  into  a  bog,  and  remained  sunk  in  it  up  to  his  neck,  while  the  officers  were  walking 
about  close  by,  on  the  look  out  for  him." 


^iv— y. 
The  Interior  of  the  Prison. 


%*  77ie  Beeeption  Ward. — After  unlocking  a  "double-shotted"  door,  the  warder,  xmder 
whose  charge  we  had  been  placed,  conducted  us  into  a  long,  lofty  passage,  like  that  of  a 
narrow  cloister,  or  rude  whitewashed  box-lobby  to  a  theatre.  On  the  right,  higher  than  we 
could  conveniently  see,  were  the  exterior  windows  of  the  pentagon ;  on  the  left,  the  doors  of 
the  apparently  infinite  series  of  cells. 

These  doors  are  double,  the  inner  one  being  of  wood  and  the  outer  one  of  iron  lattice- 
work or  "cross-bars." 

Every  ward  consists  of  two  passages  or  sides  of  the  several  pentagons,  and  ranged  along 
each  passage  are  fifteen  cells.  The  passages  are  fifby  yards  long,  about  ten  feet  high,  and  about 
seven  wide,  and  all  of  equal  size.  They  are  paved  and  coloured  white.  The  admixture, 
however,  of  a  very  slight  bluish  tint  with  the  lime  diminishes  the  glare  of  the  whitewash. 

Along  the  wall  over  the  cells  runs  a  long  gas-pipe,  with  branches  which  carry  the 
gas  into  the  cells  themselves.  Each  cell  is  about  twelve  feet  long  by  seven  broad,  and 
slightly  vaulted. 

The  inner  door  is  left  open  in  the  day  time  fr^m  nine  till  five,  so  that  all  semblance  of 
a  commimication  with  the  world  may  not  be  taken  away  from  the  inmate.  At  night,  however, 
or  upon  any  misconduct  on  the  part  of  the  prisoner,  the  inner  door  is  closed  or  "  bolted  up," 
as  it  is  termed ;  nevertheless,  he  can  be  seen  by  the  jailer  through  a  small  vertical  slit 
in  the  wall — like  that  of  a  perpendicular  letter-box.  Each  cell  is  provided  with  a  signal- 
wand,  painted  black  at  one  end  and  red  at  the  other,  and  the  prisoner  pushes  one  end  of 


THB  CONVICT  NTRSBEY  AT  BEIXTON. 


UILLBAHX  FBISOX.  245 

the  wand  throogh  die  alit,  in  order  to  eommonicate  his  wants  to  the  warder — the  black 
baling  a  special,  asd  the  red  a  general,  Bignifioation. 

At  the  top  of  each  oell  ia  a  ventilating  aperture  for  the  exit  of  the  fool  air,  and  in  the 
centre  of  the  paasage  is  a  Tentilating  fire,  and  an  apparatus  for  introdacing  hot  air. 
Attached  to  the  wall  of  the  passage  is  a  species  of  open  rack,  somewhat  like  a  "  press" 
without  a  door.    We  qnestioned  the  warder  as  to  the  use  of  this. 

"  Oh,  thsf  B  one  of  the  anas'  racks,"  he  replied,  "  Tou  remember  the  10th  of  April,  '48, 
and  the  Chartist  riots.  Wdl,  we  liad  to 
give  up  the  whole  of  pentagon  1  to  the 
■oldiers ;  we  had  the  Gnards  here,  and 
that  rack  is  where  their  anna  stood. 
We  had  some  of  them  here,  too,  for  the 
Doke  of  Wellington's  ftmeral ;  bnt 
those  racks  were  put  here  during  the 
Chartist  riots,  and  have  never  been 
moved  since." 

At  the  end  of  the  reception  ward  is 
the  sm^ecm's  room.  Thia  is  merely  a 
double  cell,  paved  with  flag-stones,  and 
with  a  small  door  in  the  middle  of  the 
paztitian.  AAer  bathing,  the  new- 
coming  prisoners  are  hrooght  in  here^ 
naked,  and  examined.  They  are  then 
asked  if  they,  or  any  of  their  iamily, 
have  been  insane. 

If  the  examiaatjon  be  satisfactoiy, 
a  description  of  the  priioner,  witli  a 
qtecificatiou  of  any  private  maika  which 
mi^  be  fbond  on  his  body,  is  entered  in 
•  book. 

"  Uoet  parsons  of  bad  repute,"  said 
Ute  warder,  "bave  private  marks 
stamped  on  them — ^mermaids,  naked 
mrai  and  women,  and  the  most  extraor- 
dinary things  yoD  ever  saw;  they  are 
marked  like  savages,  whilst  many  of 
the  regular  thieves  have  five  dots  be- 
tween their  thnmb  and  forefinger,  as 

a  aign  that  they  belcmg  to  '  the  forty   raisoyER  at  wobk  m axino  bhoeb  ik  sepautb  cell. 
thieves,'  as  they  call  it." 

The  general  description  ent»ed  in  the  suigeon's  book  states  the  height,  the  colour  of  th« 
hair,  the  hne  of  the  complexion,  and  colour  of  the  eyes.  In  the  style  of  a  fbreign  passport— 
dte  •'  sMTTiMt  jmpMwMtm"  bemg,  fof  the  most  part,  ralber  more  numerous  than  is  the  case 
with  ordiBary  travellers. 

At  the  end  of  the  passage  we  come  to  the  bath-room,  which  is  situate  in  the  centre  of  tha 
reception  wards,  and  at  lie  base  of  the  tower.  The  bath-room  is  drcnlar,  and  contains  four 
batlu,  the  baths  bdng  in  the  pentagtm  tower.  To  each  pentagon  thme  ai«  three  such  towers 
(one  at  each  of  the  ftwit  anglee),  the  foremost,  or  one  in  the  middle,  being  called  the 
"gCBOTal  centre  tower"  of  the  ward.  There  is  also  another  tower,  in  the  centre  of  flie 
exercising  yards  within  each  pentagon,  and  this  is  styled  "  the  warder's  tower." 

Pentagons  1  and  2  are  alike,  and  throughout  of  the  strongest  oonstruction. 


246  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Pentagons  8  and  4,  however,  were  originally  built  for  women,  and  are  of  slighter 
construction ;  though  this  is  a  compliment  to  the  sex  which  unfortunately  they  have  failed 
to  justify,  as  the  female  convicts  throughout  the  prison  are  pronounced  ''  fifty  times  more 
troublesome  than  the  men.'*  The  ceUs  here,  too,  are  not  vaulted  like  those  of  pentagons  1 
and  2,  and  the  grated  iron  gates  are  less  massive.* 

%*  The  Chain-room, — "  Here,"  said  the  warder,  as  he  opened  the  grating  of  one  of 
the  oeUs,  in  the  lower  ward  of  pentagon  1,  and  threw  back  the  wooden  door  with  a  bang, 
"here  is  our  chain-room,  or  armoury,  as  we  call  it." 

It  was  one  of  the  ordinary  cells,  but  literally  hung  in  chains,  which  were  arranged 
against  the  walls  in  festoons  and  other  linear  devices.  In  front  of  the  window  there  was  set 
out  a  fancy  pattern  of  leg-irons,  apparently  in  imitation  of  the  ornamental  fetter-work  over 
the  door  of  Newgate.  The  walls  glittered  with  their  bright  swivel  hand-cuffs,  like  stout 
horses* -bits,  and  their  closely-linked  chains  like  curbs,  reminding  one  somewhat  of  the  interior 
of  a  saddler's  shop.  But  the  brilliancy  and  lightness  of  some  of  the  articles  were  in  plaoee 
contrasted  with  a  far  more  massive  style  of  ironmongery,  which  appeared  to  have  been 
originally  invented  for  the  ComwaU  giants.  A  few  of  the  manacles  of  the  latter  class 
were  literally  as  large  as  the  handle  of  a  navigator's  spade ;  and  there  were  two  massive 
ankle-cuffs,  with  chains,  such  as  highwaymen  are  supposed,  by  Yictoria  dramatistB,  to  have 
danced  in,  but  which  would  have  effectually  prevented  all  attempts  at  hornpipes  on  the  part 
of  any  light-footed  as  weU  as  light-fingered  gentlemen — ^weighing,  as  they  did,  something 
more  than  twenty-eight  pounds.  There  were  neck-pieces,  too,  heavy  enough  to  break  an 
ordinary  collar-bone ;  whilst  everything  was  on  so  gigantic  a  scale,  that  we  were  struck  by 
the  absurdity  even  more  than  by  the  cruelty  of  such  monstrous  contrivances— even  as 
the  horrors  of  an.  utterly  extravagant  melo-drama  inspire  us  with  mirth  rather  than 
fear.  Still,  there  was  something  too  real  about  the  scene  before  us  to  induce  any  but 
the  grimmest  smiles,  for  by  the  side  of  the  colossal  swivel-ouffo,  figure-of-dght-cu£B9> 
and  iron  waistbands  which  would  have  formed  appropriate  girths  for  Hie  bronze  horse, 
there  were  little  baby  handcuffs,  as  small  in  compass  as  a  girl's  bracelet,  and  about  twenty 
times  as  heavy — objects  which  impressed  the  beholder  with  a  notion,  that  in  the  days  of 
torture  either  the  juvenile  offenders  must  have  been  very  strong  or  the  jailers  very  weak 
otherwise,  where  the  necessity  for  manacling  infants  ? 

"  They  did  not  show  much  mercy  to  prisoners  then,**  said  the  warder,  to  whom  we  commu- 
nicated our  reflections ;  "  and  I  can  remember  in  my  time,  too,  when  the  prison  authorities 
weren't  much  better.  I've  seen  a  little  boy  six  years  and  a  half  old  sentenced  to  transporta- 
tion ;  and  the  sentence  carried  into  effect,  too,  though  the  poor  child  couldn't  speak  plain." 

The  handcuff  with  bars  attached,  and  ingeniously  fashioned  to  represent  the  letter  F — the 
chains  as  heavy  as  iron  cables,  and  which  were  used  for  fastenii^  together  entire  gangs — ^the 
ankle-cuffs,  which  seemed  adapted  only  for  the  ankles  of  elephants,  were  all  shown  to  tmb, 
and  we  reflected  with  a  sigh  that  this  museum  of  fetters — ^this  depdt  of  criminal  harness — 
this  immense  collection  of  stupidities  and  atrocities  in  short — ^was  not  only  a  vestige  of  the 
sanguinary  criminal  legislation  of  the  last  century,  but  also  a  reminder  of  the  discipline  of 
our  lunatic  asylums  as  they  existed  at  no  very  distant  period.  If  it  showed  us  what  New- 
gate was  until  long  after  the  days  of  Howard,  it  also  suggested  what  Bedlam  must  have  been 
previous  to  the  accomplishment  of  Pinel's  beneficent  mission. 

**  We  never  use  anything  here,"  said  the  warder,  **  but  a  single  cuff  and  diain.  With 
one  cuff,"  he  continued^  **  I'd  take  the  most  desperate  criminal  all  over  England." 

We  could  not  help  expressing  our  satisfaction  at  the  abandonment  of  so  inhuman  and 
useless  a  practice  as  that  of  loading  prisoners  with  fetters  which,  independently  of  the  mere 
weight,  inflicted  severe  torture  on  them  whenever  they  moved. 

*  Pentagon  3  is  at  present  alone  let  apart  for  lemale  prieoneirB. 


MILLBAHK  PRISON. 


',  in  Iron  Blot  Di  (he  nlrt. 

"Yea,  it's  given  up  everywhere  now,"  was  the  reply,  "except  Scotland;  and  there  they 
do  it  ttiS.  The  prisonerB  vho  come  up  to  ua  from  Scotland  have  leg-irona  and  ankle-cuffs ; 
and  the  cul&  are  fostened  on  to  them  so  tightly,  that  the  people  here  have  to  knock  away  at 
them  for  some  time  with  a  heavy  hammer  before  tbey  can  drive  the  rivets  out.  Occaaionally 
the  hammer  misaes  the  rivet, which  fast^is  the  cuff,  and  hits  the  man's  ankle.  Any  how, 
he  must  ooffer  severe  pais,  aa  the  ouJGb  are  very  tight  and  the  rivets  are  always  hammered 
in  pretty  hard." 

The  most  desperate  and  intractable  prisoners,  the  warder  informed  us  in  the  course  of 
thu  conversation,  used  formerly  to  be  sent  to  Norfolk  Island ;  bat  none  had  been  transported 
time  now  for  some  years.  The  last  who  was  consigned  to  that  settlement  was  Mark 
Jefficy,  the  most  daring  ruffian  they  had  ever  had  in  Uillbank  prison,  and  who  ultimately 
attempted  to  murder  the  chief-mate  of  the  hulk  at  Woolwich,  wherenpon  he  was  shipped 
off  to  Norfolk  Island. 

"  One  man  made  an  attempt  to  break  prison  here, ' '  continuod  the  warder,  ' '  some  years 
nnee,  and  with  great  auccees.  It  was  not  the  man  apokcn  of  with  the  false  keys,  but  a  fellow 
named  William  Howard,  who  was  known  to  all  his  companions  as  '  Punch  '  Howard.  He 
ma  in  the  in&mary  for  venereal  at  the  time,  and  got  through  a  window  about  nine  feet 


248  THE  GEKAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

^m  the  ground.  With  a  knife  he  cut  through  the  pivot  which  held  the  window,  and 
£utened  it  up  so  hb  to  remain  there  until  nighi  He  then  forced  back  the  iron  frame,  which 
was  not  more  than  six  and  a  half  inches  square,  and  made  it  serve  as  a  sort  of  rest,  Uke  the 
things  used  by  painters  for  window-cleaning.  This  done^  he  got  upon  it,  tied  his  bed-clothes 
to  it,  and  let  himself  down  by  them;  after  which  he  scaled  t^e  outer  walls  and  went 
straight  off  to  his  mother's,  at  TTxbridge.  I  took  him  there  in  a  brick-field.  Of  course,  I 
didn't  go  into  the  brick-field  where  he  had  all  his  Mends,  but  I  got  his  employer  to  call 
him  out  on  some  pretext,  and  then  slipped  a  handcuff  on  him  and  brought  ^™  back." 

%*  The  Cells  at  HtHbank. — ^Passing  through  a  grated  gate  we  came  to  the  corridor, 
next  to  the  general  centre,  and  styled  passage  No.  1,  that  which  we  had  just  quitted  being 
passage  No.  2.  The  two  passages  are  similar;  at  the  end  of  passage  No.  1,  a  brass  bell  is 
seen  close  to  a  door  which  leads  to  the  warder's  tower,  and  which  is  rung  by  the  officers 
when  the  principal  is  wanted.  In  the  next  passage  that  we  entered  were  located  fho 
prisoners  who  were  waiting  for  their  tickets-of-leave,  having  just  returned  from  Gibraltar— 
the  "  Gib  "  prisoners  as  they  are  called. 

On  the  grated  gates  of  the  cells  here  were  the  register-tickets  of  the  men,  with  the  name 
.of  each  written  on  the  back. 

Two  of  the  men  in  the  first  ceU  rose  and  saluted  us  as  we  passed.  Like  the  rest  of  the 
prisoners,  they  were  dressed  in  gray  jackets,  brown  trousers  with  a  thin  red  stripe— the 
same  as  is  introduced  into  most  of  the  convict  fabrics'^-blue  orayats  (also  crossed  with  narrow 
brick-coloured  threads),  and  gray  Scotch-like  caps. 

These  prisoners  were  allowed  to  converse  during  the  day,  and  to  sit,  two  or  three  together, 
in  each  cell ;  but  they  were  separated  at  night. 

«  You  can  take  them  away  now,"  said  the  principal  warder.  ''  Stand  to  your  gates ! " 
the  deputy  exclaimed ;  upon  which  the  officer  in  the  centre  of  the  ward  gave  two  knocks, 
when  all  the  men  turned  out  at  the  same  time,  closed  their  gates,  and,  in  obedience  to  the 
warder's  coromands  to  "  face  about,"  and  **  quick  march,"  went  out  into  the  yard  to  exer- 
cise, an  officer  being  there  ready  to  receive  them. 

When  the  prisoners  had  left,  we  entered  one  of  the  cells.  The  odour  of  the  walls  we 
found  of  a  light  neutral  tint.  Beneath  the  solitary  window,  which,  like  all  the  cell  win- 
dows, looked  towards  the  "  warder's  tower,"  in  the  centre  of  the  pentagon,  was  a  little  square 
table  of  plain  wood,  on  which  stood  a  small  pyramid  of  books,  consisting  of  a  Bible,  a 
Prayer-book,  a  hymn-book,  an  arithmetic-book,  a  work  entitled  ''Home  and  Common 
Things,"  and  other  similar  publications  of  the  Society  for  the  Promotion  of  Christian  Know- 
ledge, together  with  a  slate  and  pencil,  a  wooden  platter,  two  tin  pints  for  cocoa  and  gruel, 
a  salt-cellar,  a  wooden  spoon,  and  the  signal-stick  before  alluded  to.  Underneath  the  table 
was  a  broom  for  sweeping  out  the  cell,  resembling  a  sweep's  brush,  two  combs,  a  hair-brash 
a  piece  of  soap,  and  a  ut^isil  like  a  pudding-basin. 

Affixed  to  the  waU  was  a  card  with  texts,  known  in  the  prison  as  the  ''  Scripture  Card," 
and  a  ''Notice  to  Convicts"  also;  whilst  on  one  side  of  the  table  stood  a  washing-tub  and 
wooden  stool,  and  on  the  other  the  hammock  and  bedding,  neatly  folded  up.  The  mat- 
tress, blankets,  and  sheets,  we  were  told,  have  to  be  arranged  in  five  folds,  the  colouied 
night-cap  being  placed  on  the  centre  of  the  middle  fold;  and  considerable  attrition  is 
required  to  be  paid  to  the  precise  folding  of  the  bed-doihes,  so  as  to  form  five  layers  of  equal 
dimensions.  The  day-cap  is  placed  on  the  top  of  the  neat  square  parcel  of  bedding,  which 
looks  scarcely  larger  than  a  soldier's  knapsack. 

"  Up  above,  we  have  a  penal-class  prisoner  in  one  of  the  refractory  cells,"  said  our 
attendant  warder ;  "  the  cell  is  not  exactly  what  we  call  a  dark  one,  but  an  ordinary  cell,  witii 
the  windows  nearly  dosed  up.  The  penal  class  prisoners  are  those  who  have  been  sent  back 
from  public  works  for  committing  some  violent  assault^  or  for  mutinous  or  insuboidhiate 


UILLBASK  PKISOSr.  249 

tondnci  Tbay  are  XBtanied  to  us,  by  order  of  the  directon,  to  undei^  vhat  is  called  a 
'  geatati  probatioii.'  When  tiiey  belong  to  the  penal  class,  they  are  bolt^  up  in  thnr  oella 
all  day,  aid  treated  with  gteatei  rigour  than  men  under  the  ordinaty  prison  discipline." 

On  reaching  one  oftLeoeoells,  we  fonnd  the  hammooksvvre  replaced  by  iron  bedsteads,  or 
islher  1^  iron  gratings  resting  on  stone  lapporte  at  either  end,  and  the  table  and  all  the 
fdrnitnre  plaoed  in  tjie  corridor  onbdde. 

"We  pnt  the  faniitnre  Uiere,"  said  Hie  warder,  ''to  prevent  the  ceiling  being  beaten 
down  by  the  priaoner.  We  always  take  the  foKnitoie  ont  of  the  refractory  cells,  and  we 
like  to  haTO  thoee  oeUs  eitoate  (m  the  t«p  floor,  becaose  the  roo&  there  are  mnoh  stronger." 

Theee  refractory  cells  lesembled  the  ordinary  ones,  except  in  two  partioulars ;  the 
vooden  door  was  ootside,  and  was  kept 
finnly  closed  oTcr  the  iron  door  or  grating, 
while  tiie  windows  were  blocked  np  so 
«  to  admit  only  tlie  sraalleet  possible 
nnmber  of  rays.  The  warder  threw  open 
thedoorof  one  of  the  refractory  cells,  and 
asked  the  prisoner  within  how  he  was 
getting  on.  The  man  was  nnder  confine- 
ment for  maUng  nse  of  abnsiTe  language 
to  his  officer. 

"He  knew  it  was  his  temper,"  he 
said,  as  he  spoke  behind  the  grating,  "but 
the;  took  him  np  so  short ;  he  meant, 
howcTer,  to  become  better  if  he  conld." 

This  prisoner  was  allowed  half  a 
ponnd  of  bread  in  the  morning,  end  half 
a  ponnd  at  night;  he  had  nothing  to 
drink  bnt  cold  water. 

V  Tht  School-room. — "This  ward," 
continned  onr  guide,  as  we  passed 
throngjk  another  grated  door,  "leads  to 
the  goremor's  room,  where  yon  sat  this 
fflonung,  and  here  prisoners  are  placed 
who  are  brought  np  for  report  and  have 
to  be  taken  before  him.  The  penal  class 
ue  aeaiched  here  befbre'they  are  taken 
in  to  the  governor,  in  order  to  prevent 
their  having  anything  secreted  about 
them  intended  to  injure  flko  governor. 
The  gavemor  adjudicates  upon  reportB 
erery  morning." 

During  the  old  penitentiary  system,  we  may  add,  the  prisoners  used  to  remain  at  HiUbank 
&a  three  and  four  years—they  were  never  sent  away ;  and  when'  they  had  done  the  whole  of 
thdr  ^obationary  time,  th«7  need  to  get  their  freedom  as  being  thoroughly  reformed  characters, 
thon^  many  of  them  have  dnce  returned  and  been  transported.  The  officers  in  those  days 
used  to  designate  the  extraordinary  religions  oonvicts  as  "pantdlers."  The  prisoners  used  to 
labrar  as  now,  and,  from  being  a  long  time  in  the  one  prison,  became  expert,  and  used  to  turn 
out  a  great  deal  of  work.  The  officers  in  those  days  used  to  have  to  stand  and  road  the  Bible 
in  the  passages  of  the  wards,  while  the  prisoners  were  blackguarding  them  in  their  cells. 
The  men  tamed  out  hypocrites.    The  reverend  governor  had  the  management  of  the  place  up 


26«  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

to  AuguBt  1,  1843,  when  it  became  a  convict  prison.  When  it  was  a  penitentiaryy  or  the 
''tench/'  as  the  thieves  called  it,  if  convicts  behaved  with  deception  and  pretended  to  be 
sorry  for  their  ofEences,  Ihey  got  their  dischaige  after  a  few  years.  Harry  King,  at  Penton- 
ville,  was  one  of  this  kind;  he  actually  had  a  pair  of  green  spectacles  purchased  for  him, 
because  he  read  his  Bible  so  hard  that  his  sight  became  injured  by  it.  He  pretended  to 
be  thoroughly  reformed,  but  directly  he  got  down  to  Portland  he  showed  himself  in  his  true 
character ;  for  he,  with  others,  assaulted  the  officers  and  endangered  their  lives. 

Attached  to  every  two  pentagons  there  .is  a  school-room.  The  schools  are  divided  into 
four  classes,  the  fourth  class  being  the  highest.  At  one  end  of  the  school-room  there  are 
maps  against  the  wall  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe,  and  a  table  of  Bible  chronology; 
at  the  other  is  a  tableau,  representing  the  principal  animals  of  creation,  in  which  a 
very  large  whale  (contrasted  with  a  ^ery  small  man)  occupies  a  prominent  position. 

The  prisoners,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  were  seated  in  rows  on  either  side  of  the  middle 
passage,  arranged  on  forms  vrith  one  long  continuous  desk  or  sloping  shelf  before  them. 
On  a  huge  black  board  the  following  arithmetical  proposition  was  chalked  : — 

"  What  is  the  interest  of  £2726  Is.  4d.  at  4^  per  cent,  per  annum,  for  3  years  154 
days?" 

Here,  too,  a  man  of  thirty  was  staring  idiotically  at  the  schoolmaster,  as  he  endeavoured 
to  teach  him  the  painful  truth,  "  that  nine  from  nought  you  can't." 

\*  Working  in  Ssparate  Cells. — ^We  now  passed  to  the  top  floor  of  pentagon  2,  whare  the 
prisoners  were  employed  in  tailoring.  In  the  first  ceU,  a  boy  was  seated  on  his  board  making 
a  soldier's  coat.     The  gratings  were  closed,  but  the  wooden  doors  were  open. 

''  In  the  cells  that  you  saw  in  pentagon  1,"  observed  the  warder,  "  the  prisoners  had 
hammocks.  In  some  of  Ihe  wards,  instead  of  hammocks  they  have  an  iron  framewoik, 
resting  at  the  head  and  foot  on  two  large  stone  supports.  Here,  you  see,  we  give  them 
one  of  those  boards,  instead  of  the  ironwork,  so  that  they  have  a  bedstead  and  a  shopboard 
at  the  same  time." 

The  cells  here  had  all  the  appearance  of  small  tailors*  workshops,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
passage  there  was  a  furnace  for  heating  the  irons  which  are  used  tor  going  over  the  seams 
of  the  garments  made  by  the  prisoners. 

In  one  of  the  cells  here  a  convict  was  receiving  religious  instruction.  The  reverend 
instructor  was  reading  to  the  prisoner,  whom  we  heard,  as  we  passed  the  cell,  uttering  his 
responses,  in  a  solemn  manner,  from  time  to  time. 

In  this  part  of  the  prison  we  noted  an  old  man,  who  appeared  to  have  lost  all  capacity 
for  taking  an  interest  in  work,  or  anything  else,  and  who  had,  therefore,  been  put  to  pick 
coir.  He  was  sitting  down  with  his  jacket  off,  and  a  heap  of  the  brown  fibre  lying  looee 
before  him,  and  reaching  nearly  up  to  his  knees. 

«  This  old  man,"  said  the  warder  "  can't  work  much.  When  prisoners  have  no  capacity 
for  tailoring,  have  bad  sight,  or  such  like,  we  give  them  coir  to  pick." 

In  a  cell,  where  the  Lustructing  officer  was  presiding,  several  prisoners  were  engaged 
cutting  out  coats,  stitching,  and  fitting  in  linings. 

**  That  boy,  you  see  there,  handles  his  needle  well.  How  long  have  you  been  here,  my 
man  ?"  inquired  the  warder. 

**  Four  months,  sir !" 

"  Ah,  and  you  can  make  a  coat  now,  eh  ?" 

''  I  think  I  can,  sir,"  replied  the  boy. 

In  another  of  the  tailoring  wards  we  noticed  a  cell  with  the  wooden  door  closed. 

**  There,  you  see,  that  man's  been  '  bolted  up.'  He's  been  talking  with  the  other  pri- 
soners, most  likely,  and  so  he  has  been  deprived  of  the  privilege  of  having  his  door  open/' 

At  the  top  of  the  martello-like  tower,  where  the  pails  and  tubs  of  each  pentagon  ara  kept. 


MILLBA]5IK  PBI80K.  251 

is  an  immenee  circular  tank.  *^  That's  filled  with  water  from  Trafalgar  Square/*  said  the 
warder.  **  We  used  formerly  to  pump  it  up  from  a  large  reservoir,  which  was  supplied  from 
the  Thames.     Now  it  comes  rushing  in  without  any  pumping  at  all.'' 

On  the  middle  floor  of  pentagon  2  are  the  mechanics'  wards.  The  prisoners  were  all  at 
work  there,  either  in  the  work-room,  or  in  other  parts  of  the  prison,  where  repairs  had 
to  be  effected.  In  this  ward  were  painters,  glaziers,  coopers,  hlacksmiths,  carpenters, 
masons,  bricklayers. 

The  payement  was  striped  with  the  light  which  came  streaming  through  the  grated  doors 
of  the  cells ;  but  the  windows  in  the  passages  were  all  darkened,  to  prevent  the  men  seeing 
into  pentagon  3,  which  contains  the  female  convicts. 

"All  the  prisoners  out  of  this  ward,"  said  our  guide,  as  we  entered  another  passage, 
"  arc  at  school  now ;  you  saw  them  up  stairs.     This  ward  is  for  tailors." 

"  Here,  now,  are  more  good  coats,"  he  continued.  ''  These  are  for  the  officers  of  Dartmoor 
prison,  and  those  for  the  navy." 

''How  long  has  this  man  been  at  his  work?"  we  inquired,  in  reference  to  one  who 
appeared  to  be  finishing  oif  his  button-holes  in  a  sufficiently  artistic  manner. 

"About  ten  months,"  was  the  reply;  ''but  we  can  soon  see  by  looking  at  his  register 
nnmber." 

The  warder,  at  the  same  time,  turned  up  the  small  slip  of  card  which  was  tied  outside 

the  grating  of  the  cell,  and  read,  "  J ^  J      ■  ■,  penal  class,"  the  inscription  on  the 

hack. 

"Ah,  you  see  he  is  one  of  the  penal  class,  who  has  reformed.  He  is  not  treated  like 
the  others,  because,  when  one  of  the  officers  here  was  attacked,  he  went  to  the  warder's  assist- 
ance, and  helped  to  save  his  life."  The  warder  afterwards  informed  us,  "  the  officer  was 
attacked  by  four  convict  men  as  they  came  off  the  tread-wheel,  and  this  prisoner  stepped  in 
and  rescued  him  from  their  hands.     That's  why  he's  taken  out  of  the  penal  class." 

"  VeVe  got  C here,  he  who  murdered  his  wife  in  the  Minories,  while  he  was 

dnink,  on  Christmas  day  last,"  the  warder  went  on  to  say;  ''he's  a  fine  scholar — ^knows 
several  languages — ^French,  German,  and  Latin — and  is  a  most  quiet  and  respectable  man. 
He  had  a  capital  situation  in  the  India  House,  and  was  in  the  receipt  of  £150  a  year.  His 
father  was  Irish.  He  tells  me  he  remembers  nothing  about  the  murder ;  he  was  dead 
drank  at  the  time.  '  I  know  I  must  have  done  it,  because  everybody  says  so,'  are  the 
words  he  uses  when  he  speaks  of  the  affiur ;  '  but  it's  all  like  a  dream  to  me ! '  He  was  cast 
for  death,  and  says  he  thanks  the  Sheriffi9,  and  Ordinary,  and  East  India  Company  greatly, 
for  it  was  through  their  intercession  that  he  got  off.  I  think  he's  sincerely  repentant."  (At  a 
later  part  of  the  day  we  saw  this  man  in  his  cell ;  he  was  a  dull,  dark,  bilious-looking  fellow, 
and  had  anything  but  an  intelligent  cast  of  head).  "  I  tell  you,  as  the  governor  told  you,"  went 
on  the  warder,  "  that  the  men  who  have  the  longest  sentences  are  always  the  best  behaved. 
We  have  several  men  who  have  never  been  in  prison  before,  and  who,  if  liberated,  would 
behave  very  well.  It's  your  regular  Whitechapel  thief— your  professional  pickpocket — ^who 
is  all  the  trouble  to  us.  Those  old  offenders  are  only  in  perhaps  for  a  short  time,  but 
they  ought  never  to  be  let  go  at  all.  Directly  one  of  them  gets  out  he  meets  some  of  his 
'pals,'  and  the  first  thing  he  hears  is,  '  I  toy,  I'm  going  to  have  a  crack  to-night;  there'll 
be  five  or  ten  pounds  for  you  out  of  it,  if  you  like  to  come ;'  and  of  course  he  goes.  No  ! 
those  habitual  professional  thieves  arc  no  good  either  in  or  out  of  prison;  but  they're 
safest  in." 

"  The  first-ofifence  men  are  sometimes  very  much  to  be  pitied,"  continued  the  warder, 
"and  I  feel  for  solne  of  the  soldiers  we  have  here  about  as  much  as  any  of  them.  May-be 
a  soldier  has  got  drunk  and  struck  his  sergeant,  and  then  ho  gets  sentenced  to  fourteen 
years  for  it;  when  very  likely  the  morning  after  he'd  done  it,  he  knew  nothing  at  all  about 
the  matter." 
18 


252  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LOHDON. 

''  This/'  Baid  the  officer,  coming  to  a  halt,  as  we  reached  the  oeatre  of  the  ward,  at  the 
angle  formed  by  the  two  passagesi  '^  is  the  spot  where  poor  Hall,  one  of  the  officers  of  the 
prison,  had  his  brains  knocked  out.  The  man  who  did  it  is  in  Bedlam  now.  He  was  a 
Jew  named  !Francis,  a  regular  Whitechapel  thief,  and  no  more  mad  than  you  or  me*-at  least 
he  didn't  seem  to  be  when  I  saw  him.  He  told  me  he  meant  to  murder  some  one.  Well, 
one  day  he  put  the  black  end  of  his  signal-stick  out  of  the  cell,  to  tell  the  officer  that  he 
wanted  to  go  to  the  closet.  The  officer  let  him  out,  and  he  came  along  here  with  his 
utensil  in  his  hand.  The  officer  was  leaning  0T6r  the  trough,  and  the  man  came  behind 
and  knocked  him  oyer  the  head  with  it,  and,  when  he  was  on  the  ground,  regularly 
beat  his  brains  out — ^there,  just  where  we're  standing.  Those  utensils  are  yeiy  dangerous 
things ;  some  of  them  weigh  nearly  ten  pounds.  I  Ve  weighed  them  myself,  so  I  'm  certain 
of  it." 

The  smell  of  leather  and  the  sound  of  tapping  informed  us  that  we  were  entering  the 
shoemakers'  ward. 

^'  How  long  have  you  been  at  shoemaking,  my  boy  ? "  inquired  the  warder  of  a  lad  who 
appeared  to  be  hard  at  work  in  one  of  the  cells  we  were  then  passing. 

<<  Four  years,"  replied  the  lad,  speaking  through  the  iron  grating. 

"How  old  are  you?  " 

"  Sixteen." 

*^  And  how  long  have  you  been  here,  my  man  ?  " 

"  Only  came  in  yesterday,"  replied  the  prisoner,  starting  and  touching  his  cap. 

"This  ward,"  we  were  told,  "had  earned  more  than  £4  during  the  previous  week." 
The  instructing  warder  was  present,  with  a  long  black  apron  over  his  uniform.  In  one  of 
the  cells,  where  the  tapping  was  most  vigorous,  there  were  rows  of  new  shoes  on  the  floor ; 
a  shoe-closer  was  in  the  comer,  with  bundles  of  black  leather  lying  on  the  stones  at  his  feet, 
and  a  small  shoemaker's  tray  by  his  side.  Another  prisoner  was  twisting  twine  over  the 
gas-pipe.  Several  of  the  men  had  all  the  appearance  of  regular  shoemakers,  and  many  wore 
leathern  aprons,  like  blacksmiths. 

This  ward  and  the  next,  that  is  to  say,  wards  A  and  B  of  pentagon  2,  are  the  only  two 
wards  where  shoemaking  is  carried  on  in  separation. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Tickel?"  said  our  attendant  warder,  as  he  passed  the  instructing 
officer. 

In  the  dickers'  department  we  found  a  collection  of  boot-fronts,  rolls  of  upper-leather 
soles,  and  heaps  of  shoes,  and  in  the  cell  next  to  it  a  man  was  rubbing  away  at  a  Wellington 
boot  on  a  last. 

"  You've  got  some  good  Welliagton  boots  here,  Mr.  Tickel,  haven't  you  ?"  said  ihe 
warder. 

"  Yes,*'  said  Mr.  Tickel,  and  leaving  the  grated  gate  he  went  into  the  cell,  and  came  out 
wilh  his  hand  thrust  into  a  boot,  which  he  offered  to  our  inspection. 

"  That's  as  good  a  boot,"  said  he,  with  no  little  pride  in  the  work,  "  as  could  be  found 
in  London.  The  leather  looks  a  Httle  rough  now,  but  when  it's  been  rubbed  up  it  will  be  a 
flrst-rate  article.    The  man  who  made  it  used  to  work  at  one  of  the  West-end  houses." 

"Now,  here's  a  cell,"  remarked  our  guide,  as  he  jingled  his  keys,  "in  which  four  or 
Ave  of  the  men  are  at  work  together." 

He  opened  the  door,  and  we  found  Ave  prisoners  ioside. 

"They  are  all  good  men,"  observed  the  officer,  " and  well-oonducted,  so  we  let  them 
talk  a  little  so  long  as  they  are  together." 

"  But  we  have  to  work  very  hard,"  rejoined  one  of  the  prisoners  as  we  left  the  oelL 

Having  visited  all  the  cell3  in  pentagons  1  and  2,  we  were  conducted  into  the  artasans* 
shop,  where  coopering,  polishing,  &c.,  are  carried  on.  The  workshop  is  spacious,  aixy,  and 
light,  with  a  roof  supported  by  iron  rods,  like  that  of  a  railway  terminus. 


1ffTT.T.BANg  PBISON.  253 

• 

Many  of  the  artisans  were  away,  in  different  parts  of  the  prison,  working  in  parties  under 
the  saperintendence  of  officers.  Some  dozen  men,  however,  were  filling  the  place  with  the 
sound  of  their  hammers,  and  evidences  of  their  labours  were  to  be  seen  in  all  directions. 

"These  backets,"  said  the  officer,  '^  are  for  Chatham.     Those  are  for  shipboard." 

Ascending  a  flight  of  wooden  steps  we  reached  ihe  carpenters'  shop  over-head,  and  this  as 
UBnal,  was  pervaded  by  a  strong  turpentiny  smell  of  deal.  On  the  walls  were  hanging 
tools,  plan^,  &c.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  were  some  half-dozen  benches ;  and  at  the 
end  was  the  wooden  skeleton  of  a  sofa.  A  few  prison  tables  were  lying  about,  and  one  of 
the  prisoners  was  employed  in  polishing  a  table  of  mahogany,  which  was  intended  for  the 
residence  of  one  of  the  superior  officers.  There  were  also  several  cart-wheels  against  the 
wall. 

At  a  later  part  of  the  day  we  passed  over  pentagons  5  and  6,  in  many  wards  of  which 
we  found  the  men  busy  tailoring  in  single  cells.  In  some  of  those  (as  pentagon  5,  £  2)  were 
''light-offence  men,"  we  were  told — "  aU  under  ten  years'  transportation,"  said  our  informant. 
In  other  parts  (as  in  pentagon  6,  A  1)  the  men  were  hammock-making,  and  bag-making  as 
well;  whilst  in  others,  again,  there  are  a  few  older  men  coir-picking;  ''those  that  have  no 
capacity  for  tailoring,  and  are  dull  men,  we  set  to  picking  coir,  for  they're  not  capable  of 
doing  anything  else."  Again,  in  pentagon  5,  A  ward,  we  found  two  men  in  the  larger  cells 
busy  weaving  biscuit-bagging;  whilst  another  was  seated  on  a  boaid  on  the  ground  making 
a  pilot-coat ;  and  a  fourth  prisoner  winding  bobbins  for  the  two  who  were  weaving. 

The  cells  in  this  ward  were  all  devoted  to  ''  bagging,"  and  there  were  generally  three 
prisoners  in  each  cell.  Here  the  passage  rattled  again  with  the  noise  of  the  loom,  like  the 
pulsation  of  paddle-wheels.  And  so  again  in  B  ward  of  ihe  same  pentagon,  a  similar  rattle 
of  looms  prevailed,  with  the  whirr  of  wheels  winding  bobbins  and  ringing  through  the 
psfisagesy  tlLl  the  din  reminded  one  faintly  of  Manchester.  Here,  too,  in  one  large  cell, 
was  a  calendar  machine,  where  all  the  sacking  was  smoothed  after  being  made,  and  three 
prisoners  engaged  in  passing  a  newly-wove  piece  through  the  polished  metal  rollers. 

The  quantity  of  work  done  at  this  prison  far  exceeds  that  at  Pentonville,  as  may  be  seen 
by  the  subjoined  returns.* 

On  another  occasion  we  were  shown  over  the  manufacturing  department,  and  found 
the  spacious  warerooms  there  littered  with  bales  of  blue  cloth  for  the  officers'  clothing. 
("  We're  going  to  make  aU  the  prison  officers'  uniforms  for  the  first  time,"  said  the  warder  in 
attendance.)  There  were  also  rolls  of  shirting,  sheeting,  and  hammock-stuff  and  straps,  stowed 
away  in  square  compartments  round  the  room,  and  shoemakers'  •  lasts  hanging  ^m  the 
ceiling  over-head.  Up  stairs  here  was  the  cutting-room,  with  small  stacks  of  the  brown 
convict  doth,  at  the  ends  of  the  room ;  and  beside  the  door,  were  square  piles  of  fostian, 
ready  cut  up  for  **  liberty  clothing,"  for  the  prisoners. 

**  What  coats  are  you  cutting  now,  Mr.  Armstrong  ?"  asked  "Warder  Power  of  the  manu- 
facturer. ''Greatcoats  for  the  'Warrior  Hulk,'  and  Chatham  and  Partmoor  prisons; 
they're  for  the  officers  of  each  of  those  establishments." 

The  clothing  for  ahnost  all  the  public  works,  we  were  told — ^Dartmoor,  Pentonville^ 
Chatham^  Portland,  Portsmouth,  and  the  Hulks — ^is  cut  and  made  at  Millbank. 

•  VtJkTEMXKl  07  SUNSSY  OABXSliTS,  8T0BES,   &C,   MADE  IN  THB  MANUFACTORY  OP  XUXBANK  PIU60N, 

POa  HIMB  MONTHS,  PBOM   IST  APBII,   1864,  TO   SlST  DEGBMBSB,   1864. 


greatcoats   No*.  24,145 


JackeU 

If 

8,276 

WuslcMts 

n 

1,378 

Trouen 

•          99 

3,442 

Flannel  gannents 

i» 

2,894 

Jicketo  (MiUtU) 

•       » 

816 

Ttouacts  (ditto) 

>» 

1,642 

18* 

Belts  .  .  .  Ko.  264 
Poaches  .  .  •  „  611 
Shirts  .  .  .  „  186 
Navy  flufihiog jackets  „  3,246 
Shoes  •  .  PaixB  1,920 
Shoes  repaired .  .  „  4,047 
Bificaitbags£or^^aYy,No.  414,206 


Beds  .  .  .  No.  332 
Pillows .  .  .  „  332 
Hammocks  ...  „  804 
Miscellaneous  articles  „  10,198 
Cloth  woven  .  .  Yards  2,712 
Handkerchiefs  woven  „  967 
Bagging  woven    .       „  103,720 


254  THE  GKEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

« 
<' These  arc  flannels,  to  be  cat  and  made  up  for  public  works,  too.     Some  hundreds  of 

thousands  of  yards  of  flannel  are  cut  up  here  annually.  Every  convict  has  two  sets  of  flan- 
nels given  to  him  directly  he  comes  in  here.  The  female  prisoners  here  work  for  the  large 
slop-shops  in  the  city." 

In  the  centre  of  the  warehouse  below  stood  square  bales  of  fuzzy  coir,  for  making  beds, 
and  bright  tins  hanging  against  the  waU. 

''What  orders  have  you  got  in  now,  Mr.  Armstrong ?''  our  attendant  aaked,  anxious  to 
glean  all  the  information  he  could  for  us. 

''Five  hundred  pairs  of  shoes  for  Chatham,'*  was  the  reply. 

**  What  have  you  here  ?"  inquired  the  other,  as  he  placed  his  hand  on  several  bales  of 
goods. 

**  They're  Ave  hundred  suits  of  clothing,  packed  up  ready,  to  go  down  to  the  new  prison 
at  Chatham  the  moment  they're  wanted.  Everything  connected  with  Chatham-— H)lothing 
and  bedding — is  supplied  here." 

"How  many  biscuit-bags  are  you  making  now  weekly  for  Deptford?"  was  the  next 
question. 

''  Only  3,000  now ;  but  in  the  time  of  the  war  we  made  20,000  a  week,  and  wove  the 
stuff  too.     Those  are  all  the  hammocks  for  Chatham,  ready  to  be  sent  down  as  well." 

Here  the  manufacturer  led  us  to  a  large  stock  of  e^oes,  stored  in  bins,  as  it  were,  in  one 
comer  of  the  room. 

'*  These  with  the  hobnails  are  for  Chatham,  and  these  for  'Establishment' — ^thaf s  our 
term  for  Millbank.  Yonder*s  a  roll  of  blue  and  white  yam,  you  see,  ready  for  shirting  and 
handkerchiefs.  Yes,  sir,  our  female  prisoners  do  a  great  deal  of  work  for  slop-shops.  We 
work  for  Jackson  in  Leadenhall  Street ;  Early  and  Smith,  Houndsditch ;  Stephens  and  dark, 
Paul's  Wharf,  Thames  Street ;  Favell  and  Bousfield,  St.  Mary  Axe ;  both  shirts  and  coats 
We  do  for  them.  We  do  a  great  deal  of  Moses'  soldiers'  coats,  and  Dolan's  marine  coats,  too. 
We  take  about  £3,000  a  year  altogether  from  the  slop-shops.  We  have  had  as  many  as 
1,000  soldiers'  coats  in  a  week  to  do  for  Stephens.  Those,  sir,  are  some  of  Favell's  shirts," 
he  added,  pointing  to  a  bundle  near  the  door.  "  They're  what  are  called  rowing-shirts. 
It's  only  a  mere  trifle  they  give  for  making,  them — ^fourpcnce  a-piece — and  just  see  what 
work's  in  them.  We  made  soldiers'  trousers  for  Moses  at  twopence-hali^nny  a-piece ;  but 
that  didn't  pay." 

From  the  manufactui^ers'  department  we  passed  to  the  steward's  department  next  door. 

"  This  is  the  steward,  sir,"  Warder  Power  said,  as  he  introduced  us  to  that  officer. 

"  I  pay  all  moneys  for  the  prison,"  the  steward  replied,  in  answer  to  our  question,  as 
soon  as  we  entered  the  office,  "and  take  account  of  clothing,  provisions,  necessaries  of 
every  sort,  and  pay  all  the  warders,  too,  every  week.  Everything  the  warders  require 
they  must  come  to  me  for.  They  get  an  order  signed  by  the  governor,  and  1  execute  it. 
If  the  manoifacturer  wants  any  materials  I  issue  them ;  and  when  he  has  made  anyihing  he 
sends  it  in  to  me,  and  I  issue  it  to  the  officers  according  as  it  is  required.  This  I  do  only 
of  course  upon  authorized  demands  signed  by  the  governor.  Here  is  an  example,  you  eee, 
sir : — 

"  Pentagon  2.  "  Millbank  Prison,  2Ath  June,  1856. 

**  Demand.  No. 

"JTr.  Geddes^ 

'*  Supply  the  undermentioned  articles :— * 

''  2794,  R A ,  to  have  spedacJes,  ly  orieir  of  the  mtgem. 

"  -4.  7F.  Sutherland,  Principal  Warder. 

(Signed)*  ''John  Qamlier"'  {Got.) 


MILLBAIS^K  PKISOy.  265 

**1  pay  about  £1,200  a  montli/'  the  steward  went  on,  "more  or  less.  Sometinies  I 
hare  known  it  to  be  £1,600  and  £1,800,  but  it's  generally  about  £1,200.  A  great  part  of 
the  tradesmen's  biUs  is  paid  direct  by  the  paymaster-general.  The  authorities  in  Parlia- 
ment Street  make  demands  on  that  office  for  such  amounts.  It's  likewise  part  of  my  depart- 
ment to  take  ohaige  of  any  money  or  property  the  prisoners  may  haye  on  coming  in,  and  also 
to  make  up  accounts  of  the  money  the  prisoners  have  earned  while  in  prison,  in  case  of  their 
going  away ;  not  that  any  money  passes  here,  for  it's  merely  a  nominal  transaction,  and  placed 
to  their  credit  against  their  time  being  up,  when  it  is  paid  to  them.  Each  prisoner  before 
leaying  here  signs  his  account  with  me  in  acknowledgment  of  its  being  correct;  and  then 
that  account  passes  on  to  the  place  where  he  goes.     Here,  you  see,  is  such  an  account : — 

"  2670,  J H Amount  of  private  cash — 6d.     Gratuity — none.    Property 

belonging  to  the  prisoner — 1  hair-hrush,  1  tooth-hruth,  2  combs." 

**  This  mau  is  leaving  for  PentonviUe  to-morrow.  Some  men  come  and  claim  their 
property  years  afterwards,"  said  our  attendant. 

We  glanced  over  the  account.  One  man  in  the  list  of  the  convicts  going  to  Pentonville  on 
the  morrow  was  down,  under  the  head  of  property  belonging  to  him,  for  a  watch  and  chain, 
and  many  had  a  comb  and  brush,  but  few  any  money.  Among  the  whole  fifty  there  was 
only  A».  \0d.  appertaining  to  them,  and  nearly  the  half  of  that  was  the  property  of  one  man. 
Against  the  name  of  the  man  who  had  recently  been  condemned  to  death  for  the  murder  of 
his  wife,  while  in  a  fit  of  intoxication,  on  Christmas  day  (and  who  had  been  respited  only 
the  day  before  that  appointed  for  his  execution),  there  were  seven  books  down  as  his  pro- 
perty. 

The  steward  then  showed  us  round  the  stores.  ''  These  drawers,"  said  he,  approaching 
a  large  square  chest  in  the  centre  of  the  room  adjoining  the  office,  ^'  are  fdU  of  a  little  of 
everything.  These  are  our  knives,  you  see,"  he  said,  puUing  out  a  drawer,  fdU  of  tin 
handleless  blades.  ''  Those  are  the  best  things  ever  introduced  here,"  the  warder  at  our 
side  exclaimed  with  no  little  enthusiasm.  '^  It's  impossible  to  stab  a  man  with  those,  for 
they  double  up  directly  they're  thrust  at  anything,  and  yet  they'll  cut  up  a  piece  of  meat 
well  enough." 

"Here's  the  wine  for  the  sick,"  the  steward  continued,  as  he  drew  out  another  drawer 
that  was  filled  with  a  dozen  or  so  of  black  bottles,  with  dabs  of  white  on  the  upper  side. 
"  These  gutta-perdia  mugs  are  for  the  penal-class  men ;  but  they're  no  good  for  cocoa,  for  they 
double  up  with  anything  hot,  so  the  tins  in  which  the  breakfiist  is  served  to  the  penal 
men  are  collected  immediately  afterwards." 

"Here,  you  see,  are  the  prison  groceries,"  said  the  steward's  assistant,  opening  a  cup- 
board, and  Growing  a  row  of  green- tea  canisters.  .''Here,  too,  in  the  outer  office,  the  meat 
is  inspected  by  the  steward,  and  weighed  in  his  presence  every  morning." 

"  These  haricot  beans,"  added  the  man,  taking  up  a  handM  out  of  a  neighbouring  sack, 
**  are  what  we  serve  out  to  the  men  now  instead  of  potatoes ;  they  have  them  every  other  day." 

"  Here  are  bins  of  cocoa,  flour,  oatmeal,  rice ;  and  above,  on  the  shelves,  there  are 
new  cocoa  cans.*  In  that  cask  we  keep  molasses  to  sweeten  the  cocoa ;"  and,  as  the  man 
removed  the  deep-rimmed  wooden  lid  from  the  barrel,  the  place  was  immediately  filled  with 

*  The  foUowing  is  the  ftuthorized  dietary  for  this  prison : — 

Dm  Table. 
Breakout.  Dinner.  Supper 


Voo4aj 

Tuesday 

Wedneiday 

Thimday 

FndsT 

Saturdij 

Sunday 


,p|niofcoco.,«j.aowi.h  6o..»e.t(wid.o«tW  ^  «"»*  t'f  SS^eJ^^^i^^^ 

\  o«.  of  cocoa  nibs,  }  oz.  and  after  boiling),  1  lb.  -         gweetened  with  h 

molaasee,  2  02.  milk,  and  notatocB,    and    6   oz.  mola^ee,  and  8  o»! 

8  ox.  breod.  bread.  bread 

Punisbn^ent  Piet:— 1  lb.  of  bread  per  day. 


256  THE  GllEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDOK. 

the  p^uHar  smell  of  treacle.  ''This  store,  sir,  is  devoted  to  the  general  line/'  the  assistant 
went  on,  as  we  passed  into  another  room.  **  Here  are  hearthstones  and  candles,  Bath-bricks, 
and  brushes,  and  starch,  and  blacklead,"  he  added,  opening  the  drawers,  one  after  another, 
and  pointing  to  the  racks  at  the  side  of  the  store-room.  "  There,  you  see,  are  our  wooden 
salt-cellars,  and  those  are  black  coal-scuttles,  hanging  over-head ;  indeed,  we  keep  every- 
thing, I  may  say." 

'*  But  cradles !"  added  our  guide,  with  a  smile — *'  though  some  years  ago  we  did  have  a 
nursery  attached  to  the  female  ward.'* 

%*  Peculiar  Wards. — ^In  Millbank  there  are  a  number  of  peculiar  wards,  such,  for  instance, 
as  "  the  penal-class  ward"  («.#.,  the  men  under  punishment),  which  is  situate  in  D  ward  of 
pentagon  4,  and  where  there  are  always  two  officers  on  duty,  and  the  cells  are  continually 
bolted  up. 

**  There  are  very  few  of  them  here  now,"  said  the  warder,  as  we  passed  along  the  passage, 
and  found  the  greater  part  of  the  doors  xmclosed.  ''  The  prisoners  in  this  ward  are  supplied 
with  gutta-percha  ntensils  (for  the  others  are  too  dangerous  for  such  men  as  we  put  here), 
but,  with  that  exception,  the  cells  and  Aimiture  are  the  same." 

At  one  door  that  we  came  to,  there  was  the  roister  number  attached,  whilst  on  the  back 

of  the  card  was  written  the  name,  "  J L— — ,  Penal  Class."     We  peeped  through 

the  inspection  slit,  and  saw  a  young  man,  with  his  coat  off,  pacing  the  cell,  and  reminding 
one  of  the  restlessness  of  the  polar  bear  at  the  Zoological  Gardens.  '  Then  we  came  to  another 
cell,  which  was  occupied.  Here  the  officer  looked  through  the  slit,  and  said  to  the  inmate, 
''  What !  Bxeyou  here?  Why,  you  were  one  of  the  best-conducted  lads  I  had  in  the  prison. 
What  did  you  do  ?" 

"  It  was  my  own  temper,"  was  the  reply. 

'*  What  was  it  for,  then  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  was  mutinous,  and  insulted  an  officer." 

"  Did  you  strike  him  ?"  asked  the  warder. 

"Why,  yes,  sir;  TU  tell  you  the  truth — ^I  kicked  him." 

"  Ah !  I  thought  so,  or  you  would  not  have  come  here." 

"Well,  I  don't  want  to  come  here  any  more,  that's  all." 

"All  the  penal  class,"  said  our  guide,  "  are  between  twenty  and  thirty.  It's  seldom  or 
never  that  old  men  get  among  them.    They're  all  able-bodied  fellows." 

"Did  you  get  your  rations  to-day,  my  man?"  inquired  our  warder  of  another  under 
punishment. 

"  Yes,  sir;  and  on  Tuesday  I  come  out,  don't  I?" 

"  Ay,"  answers  the  officer,  and  closes  the  door.  "  He's  one  of  the  penal  class,"  he  adds 
tons. 

"  But  he  seems  civil  enough,"  said  we. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply,  "  so  he  is  to  me ;  but  to  others  he's  quite  the  reverse." 

Before  quitting  this  part  of  the  prison  we  peeped  at'  another  cell,  and  found  another 
man,  with  his  coat  off  and  arms  folded,  pacing  his  cell  in  a  furious  manner. 

DTBTABT  FOR  PHMALB  PBI80NXB8,  KAT,   1847. 

SreakfeH. — }  pint  of  cocoa,  made  with  i  oz.  cocoa  nibs,  i  ob.  molaasea,  2  ob.  milk,  and  6  oz.  bread. 
Dintier, — (Sunday,  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday,  and  Saturday).— 4  o£.  meat  (wiUiOtat 

bone  and  after  boiling),  i  lb.  potatoes,  and  6  ob.  bri»d. 
Si^9per,^l  pint  of  gruel,  made  with  2  ob.  of  oatmeal  or  wheaten  flour,  sweetened  with  i  os.  of  molasses^  and 

8  OB.  of  bread. 
Viet  for  Dritanen  under  ISmishmentfar  iVwon  Ofineetfor  terms  not  exeeedinff  three  daife,-^!  lb.  of  bread  duly. 

The  foregoing  dietary  for  the  Millbank  Prison  I  hereby  certify  as  proper  to  be  adopted. 

6.  Gbxt. 


MILLBANK  PMSON.  257 

There  are  also  many  Catholic  wards  in  Millbank  prison.  These  are  mosilj  situate  in 
pentagon  4  (D  ward)  and  pentagon  5  (D  and  P  wards). 

*'  There's  nothing  particular  in  this  ward/'  says  our  guide,  as  we  reach  the  middle  floor  of 
pentagon  D  4 ;  ''  only  it's  a  Catholic  ward,  and  tailoring  is  carried  on  in  it." 

The  warder  lifts  up  the  register  number  at  the  ceU-door  and  shows  us  the  name  of  the 
imnate,  with  EC,  meaning  Boman  Catholic,  appended  to  it. 

"  Please,  sir,"  says  a  little  Irish  boy,  crying,  as  we  reach  the  end  cell,  '*  will  I  go  away 
fipom  here  before  IVe  served  all  my  time  ?" 

The  warder  tells  him  that  if  he's  a  good  lad  he'll  go  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  learn  a 
kade,  and  come  out  a  better  fellow  than  if  he  was  with  his  father  or  mother. 
The  boy  smiles  through  his  tears,  and  says,  ''Oh,  thank  you,  sir." 
"  Those  in  D  ward  here,"  says  the  warder  to  us  as  we  go,  '*  are  the  worst  class  of  pri- 
soners. The  Eoman  Catholic  prisoners  are  generally  tiie  very  dregs  of  society,  and  the  most 
ignorant  of  all  the  convicts  we  get ;  they  keep  for  ever  tramping  through  the  country  when 
they're  out.  Many  of  these  boys  will  maintain  five  and  six  people  outside  the  prison.  Some 
of  them  tell  me  they  get  as  much  as  forfy  pounds  a  week,  reg^arly,  by  picking  pockets  of 
fiist-rate  people,  and  being  covered  by  men  who  go  out  as  '  stalls '  with  them  to  receive  the 
property  as  soon  as  they've  stolen  it." 

The  Catholic  prisoners  go  to  school  on  Wednesday  and  Saturday,  and  receive  instruction 
from  their  priest  on  Sunday  and  Wednesday.  They're  supplied  with  all  Catholic  books 
that  the  priest  allows. 

Adjoining  the  school-room  to  pentagons  5  and  6  there  is  a  small  room  for  the  Catholic 
clergyman,  where  the  prisoners  of  that  faith  confess.  The  priest  also  addresses  the  prisoners 
in  the  school-room  for  about  an  hour  before  school  begins  at  three  o'clock.  The  place  of 
worship  for  the  Protestant  prisoners,  we  may  add  here,  is  a  polygonal  building,  situate  in 
the  very  centre  of  the  prison  itself.  It  is  entered  by  three  raised  passages  or  arcades,  that 
stietch  like  rays  from  the  central  edifice  to  the  surrounding  pentagons. 

"  The  passage  on  the  right,"  said  the  warder,  "  leads  to  pentagons  1  and  2 ;  the  one  on 
the  left  communicates  with  pentagons  5  and  6.  The  prisoners  from  those  two  pentagons  fill 
the  floor  of  the  chapel,  and  the*other  passage  is  for  the  prisoners  of  pentagons  3  and  4,  who 
occupy  the  gallery."  We  attended  Divine  service  here,  and  found  the  prisoners  both 
attentive  and  well-conducted. 

"  This  is  the  convalescent  ward,"  said  our  warder,  as  we  entered  the  place ;  ''  it's  a  portion 
of  the  inflrmary,  where  men  are  located  when  they  get  better,  or  if  their  disease  is  in  any 
way  contagious." 

Outside  the  doors  of  the  cells  here  were  tin  tablets  for  the  names  of  the  inmates  to  be 
inserted,  with  the  date  of  their  admission. 

In  one  cell  that  we  peeped  into,  through  the  inspection  slit,  we  saw  a  man  in  bed  and 
oihen  sitting  beside  him,  while  some  were  lying  dressed  on  the  other  beds,  of  which 
there  were  six  in  aU. 

The  other  cells  were  similar  to  the  large  or  treble  cells  that  we  had  already  seen.  In 
one  such  cell  that  we  peeped  into,  we  saw  the  wretched  little  deformed  dwarf  that  murdered 
the  solicitor  in  Bedford  Eow.  He  was  by  his  bedside,  on  his  knees,  apparently  in  the  act  of 
prayer.    On  the  tablet  outside  was  written — 

•'  2525,  C W , 

Admitted  7th  May,  '56. 
Pentagon  6." 
The  warder  told  us  that  this  was  a  favourite  attitude  with  the  wretched  humpback,  and  that 
he  told  him  he  knelt  down  to  ease  his  head. 

"My  q>inion  is,"  added  the  warder,  "he's  insane.  He's  not  one  of  the  riotous 
lunatics,  but  one  of  the  quiet,  sullen  kind." 


i5S  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

We  were  about  to  peep  iato  fuioliier  cell  in  the  next  passage,  when  the  warder  pulled  us 
back,  saying  "  Be  careful,  sir!  that 's  a  blackguard  fellow  in  there.  He 's  broken  all  his  cell 
repeatedly,  and  is  one  of  tiie  most  desperate  men  on  the  face  of  God's  earth.  You  'd  better 
mind,  or  he  '11  throw  something  out  upon  you  if  he  sees  you  looking."  The  man  was  lying 
down  when  we  first  peeped  through  tiie  inspection  slit,  but  hearing  voices  he  jumped  up, 
and  commenced  pacing  to  and  fro  in  his  cell.  "  He 's  a  young  fellow,  too — is  n't  he,  sir  ? 
He 's  one  of  those  uncultivated  brutes  we  get  here  occasionally,  that  doesn't  know  B  from  a 
bull's-foot,  as  the  saying  is,  and  wants  only  hoofs  and  horns  to  make  a  beast  of  him.  Yon 
had  better  come  away,  or  he's  sure  to  job  something  out  through  the  inspection  slit,  and 
perhaps  blind  you  for  life ;  nothing  would  please  him  better." 

\*  Jtefraetaty  and  Bark  Cells, — At  Millbank  there  is  one  refractory  cell  to  each  pen- 
tagon, and  this  is  always  on  the  top  floor.  These  have  a  little  Ught  admitted  to  them.  The 
dark  cells,  however,  occupy  the  basement  of  pentagon  5,  and  are  nine  in  number.  There  are 
also  nine  dark  cells  in  pentagon  6 ;  but  these  are  not  considered  healthy,  and  therefore  not  used. 

''  Would  you  like  to  see  the  dark  cells  ?"  inquires  our  attendant,  after  he  has  shown  us 
into  the  kitchen  of  pentagons  5  and  6,  where  the  sand  on  the  flagstones  is  worked  in  curioos 
devices. 

Immediately  the  light  is  obtained,  we  sally  into  the  entrance  of  pentagon  5,  and  then, 
turning  sharply  round,  our  guide  says  before  we  descend — ''You  must  mind  your  hat 
coming  down  here,  sir."     The  officer  leads  tiie  way,  with  the  flaming  candle  in  his  hand. 

On  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  low  and  narrow  staircase,  the  way  lies  along  a  close 
passage,  so  close  that  we  are  almost  obliged  to  proceed  sideways.  Then  we  come  to  a  small 
door.  ''  Now  stoop,  sir,"  says  the  warder ;  and,  as  we  do  so,  we  enter  a  narrow,  oblong  cell^ 
somewhat  like  a  wine-cellar,  and  having  the  same  fiingusy  smell  as  belongs  to  any  under* 
ground  place. 

''  What  is  that  noise  over-head  ?"  we  ask.  ''  It  sounds  like  the  quivering  of  a  legion  of 
water-wheels." 

''  Oh,  that's  the  weavers'  looms,"  is  the  answer. 

The  place  is  intensely  dark — ^the  candle  throws  a  faint  yellow  glare  on  the  walls  for  a 
few  paces  round ;  but  it  is  impossible  to  see  clearly  to  the  end  even  of  the  cell  we  are  in. 

''  There's  a  fellow  in  the  cell  who  pretends  to  be  mad,"  says  the  warder.  ''  He  declares 
that  they  put  something  in  his  soup,  and  that  there's  a  dreadful  smell  in  his  cell." 

We  inquire  whether  the  cell  in  which  he  is  confined  is  completely  dark  ?  ''  Dark ! "  is 
the  answer.  ''  It's  impossible  to  describe  the  darkness — it's  pitch  black :  no  dungeon  was 
ever  so  dark  as  it  is." 

''A  week  in  such  a  place,"  we  add,  ''must  bring  the  most  stubborn  temper  down." 
"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  returns  our  guide.  "  The  men  say  they  could  do  a  month  of  it  on  their 
head — that's  a  common  expression  of  their's.  We  had  a  lot  of  women  down  here  for  disor- 
derly conduct  once.  We  couldn't  keep  them  up  stairs.  But  our  punishment  is  now  nothing 
to  what  I've  seen  here  formerly.  Our  governor  is  so  lenient  and  kind  a  man  to  prisoners, 
and  even  officers,  that  there's  a  great  change  indeed." 

The  men  are  visited  in  the  dark  cells  every  hour,  we  were  told,  "  for  a  man  might  hang 
himself  up,  or  be  sick,"  Eaid  our  infoimant.  "Those  round  air-holes  are  for  ventilation, 
sir." 

The  bed  is  the  same  as  at  PcntonviUe ;  a  bare  wooden  couch  just  a  foot  above  the  grouxid, 
the  cell  boarded,  and  not  damp. 

The  preceding  conversation  took  place  in  a  kind  of  dark  lobby,  or  ante-chamber,  outside 
the  cell  itself.  Presently  the  warder  proceeded  to  unbar  the  massive  outer  door,  and, 
throwing  this  back,  to  talk  with  the  wretched  man,  through  the  grated  gate,  imprifoned 
within. 


MILLBANK  PRISON.  259 

'*  Now,  my  man/'  said  the  warder  in  a  kindly  voice,  "  why  don't  you  try  and  be  a 
better  fellow  ?  Tou  know  I  begged  you  off  six  days  last  time,  and  then  you  gave  me  your 
word  you  would  go  on  differently  for  the  ftiture." 

"  Well,  I  know  I  did,"  was  the  reply,  *'  and  I  kept  my  word,  too,  for  three  weeks ; 
but  now  I  am  with  men  I  can't  do  with  any  way."  And,  having  delivered  himself  of  this 
speech,  the  wretched  man  proceeded  to  pace  the  cell  in  the  darkness,  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets. 

"  They  tried  to  kUl  me  at  Dartmoor,"  he  muttered,  "  and  now  they're  going  to  finish  it." 

''Oh,  nonsense!"  said  the  warder,  aside;  "you  behaved  well  enough  under  me  when 
you  were  here  before,  and  why  can't  you  do  so  now?"  The  door  was  closed  upon  the 
wretched  convict,  and  we  ascended  the  body  of  the  prison  once  more.* 

%*  Ouariing  of  the  Prison  hy  Nighty  Opening  the  Gates,  and  Cleaning  the  CeUs  and  Paesagei 
in  the  Moming. — ^The  official  staff  at  Millbank  is  composed  of  2  chief  warders,  9  principal 
warders,  80  warders,  and  62  assistant  warders,  in  all  103  officers,  so  that  as  the  ftill  com- 
plement of  prisoners  at  this  jail  consists  of  1,100  males,  there  is  upon  an  average  1  officer  to 
nearly  every  11  men,  whilst  at  Pentonville  the  proportion  of  officers  to  men  is  but  1  to  18. 
One-half  of  the  warders  remain  in  the  prison  one  night,  and  the  other  half  the  next.  One 
officer  is  deputed  by  the  principal  warder  to  remain  in  charge  of  the  "  Pentagon  (or  warder's) 
Tower,"  and  he  holds  the  keys  to  answer  the  alarm-bell  in  case  of  fire  or  outbreak.  The 
other  officers,  who  remain  in  to  form  a  guard,  sleep  in  the  main  guard-room — a  place  with  broad 
sloping  benches,  similar  to  those  seen  in  t£e  guard-room  of  barracks.  There  is  a  bell  from 
all  the  pentagons  leading  to  the  principal  guard-room,  so  that  the  officers  can  be  immediately 
summoned  in  case  of  alarm.  There  are  nine  night  officers  on  duty  in  pentagon  4,  on 
account  of  its  containing  several  large  '<  associated  rooms,"  but  in  the  other  pentagons,  there 
are  only  two,  and  in  some  instances  but  one,  on  night  duty — ^in  addition  to  the  officer 
stationed  in  the  tower.  Besides  these  there  is  another  officer  under  arms  in  the  exercising 
yards  of  each  pentagon,  and  two  sentries  stationed  in  the  garden  surrounding  the  prison. 

The  outer  guard-room,  which  is  a  kind  of  rude  porter's  lodge,  on  the  opposite  side  to 
the  gate-keeper's  room  at  the  principal  entrance,  is  furnished  with  a  stand  of  carbines, 
ranged  in  racks  along  one  side  of  the  wall,  and  a  string  of  cutlasses  on  a  padlocked  chain, 
hanging  down  like  a  fringe  below.  Here  the  sergeant  of  the  outer  guard  remains  all  night. 
(<«  This  is  ICr.  Lenox,"  said  our  guide,  as  he  introduced  us  to  the  officer  in  question — ''  he 
has  been  an  q^d  soldier  himself,  sir").  A  rude  square  wooden  arm-chair  drawn  up  before 
the  fire  seemed  to  point  out  the  veteran's  resting-place.  "  He  visits,"  our  attendant  went 
on,  "  the  sentries  in  the  garden  at  stated  hours  throughout  the  night,  nor  does  he  take 
his  sentries  off  till  it  is  reported  to  him  that  all  the  prisoners  are  present  in  their  cells  in 
the  morning.  The  reporting  is  done  in  this  way,  sir:-— At  a  quarter  before  six  all  the 
warders  who  have  slept  out  of  the  prison  are  admitted  at  the  gates,  and  then  the  officers  in 

*    BBTUSir  OF  PUKIBHXSNT8  OP  MALB  CONVICTS  IN  MILLBANK  FB180X,  tOJL  THE  TBAB  1854. 


with  a  Cat 


_j-,.       .  (witliaUat 

^^PJ^lwithaBinOi     .       . 

InHandetdb      .... 

T\    t.  n  11  J  ^i*h  BatioM    . 
Dark  CeU  J  ^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^ 

•n  *  #^  «  (  ^i*h  Bationa   . 

Kefiractory  CeU  J  ^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^^ 

On  Bread  and  Water  Diet 
Deprived  of  one  Meal 


Admomshed 


Adults. 

JavenUes. 

TotaL 

2 

0 

2 

0 

4 

4 

3 

0 

3 

8 

0 

8 

88 

11 

44 

28 

6 

34 

69 

11 

70 

315 

228 

643 

239 

106 

344 

314 

82 

396 

1,001  447  1,448 


260  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOlf. 

charge  of  the  several  warders'  towers  let  them  into  the  wards  of  their  respectiye  pentagons, 
when  they  one  and  all  go  round  and  knock  at  the  different  cells,  as  a  notice  for  the  prisoners 
to  put  out  their  signal-sticks — (this  is  expected  to  be  done  inunediately  after  the  first  beU 
nngs  at  five  minutes  to  six).  The  warder  then  counts  the  signal-sticks,  and  if  he  finds  all 
the  prisoners  under  his  charge  are  present  in  their  cells,  he  reports  his  ward  as  all  correct 
to  the  principal  warder  of  the  pentagon,  whose  duty  it  is  to  be  in  his  tower  at  six  o'clock. 
The  principals  then  proceed  to  the  sergeant  of  the  main  guard,  and  report '  all  correct,'  or 
the  contrary,  to  him ;  whereupon  he  communicates  as  much  to  the  sei^ant  of  the  outer 
gusffd,  who  at  six  waits  at  the  inner  gate  for  orders,  and  then  the  garden  sentries  arc 
dismissed." 

In  addition  to  the  outer  guard-room,  with  its  stand  of  arms,  there  is  also  an  arm-room 
at  the  inner  gate.  This  is  curiously  enough  placed  in  a  kind  of  loft  above  the  bed-room  of 
the  inner  gate-keeper,  so  as  to  be  of  difficult  access  to  the  prisoners,  in  case  of  an  outbreak ; 
thia  gate-keex)er's  bed-room  is  on  one  side  of  the  archway  opposite  to  the  lodge  in  which  he 
rests  by  day,  and  where  there  is  likewise  a  stand  of  three  or  four  blunderbusses  kept 
in  a  rack,  ready  loaded,  to  be  given  out  to  each  warder  passing  this  gate  with  a  party  of  men. 

In  the  little  triangular  bed-room  of  the  porter  we  found  a  tall  slender  ladder  resting 
against  the  wall,  near  the  tidy  white  oounterpaned  bed,  that  was  turned  down  ready  for  the 
night,  and  a  smaU  trap-door  let  into  the  ceiling.  The  ladder  was  placed  at  the  edge  of  the  trap, 
so  that  we  might  inspect  the  apartment  above.  The  hole  was  not  large  enough  to  allow  our 
body  to  pass,  so,  standing  on  the  top  rungs,  we  thrust  our  head  and  shoulders  into  the  room, 
and  found  the  walls  covered  with  rows  of  dumpy  thick-barrelled  blunderbusses,  and  bright 
steel  bayonets  and  horse-pistols,  with  a  bunch  or  two  of  black-handled  cutlasses  at  the  top. 
Beside  the  window  were  a  vice  and  a  few  tools  for  the  repairing  and  cleaning  of  the  weapons, 
and  in  the  ceiling  above  another  trap  was  visible,  leading,  we  were  told,  to  a  similarly- 
stocked  apartment  on  the  upper  floor. 

At  six  o'clock  the  second  beU  begins,  and  this  is  the  signal  for  unlocking ;  whereupon 
the  prisoners  are  turned  out  of  their  cells,  and  the  cleansing  operations  for  the  morning: 
begin.  For  this  purpose  the  men  are  turned  out  three  at  a  time  to  empty  their  slops,  and 
then  to  sweep  their  ceUs  into  the  adjoining  passage. 

The  process  of  cleaning  the  prison  at  Millbank  differs  but  slightly  from  that  of  Penton- 
viUc.  It  forms,  of  course,  the  first  portion  of  the  day's  work,  and  is  executed  by  the 
prisoners,  each  man  having  to  clean  out  his  own  cell,  and  some  few  being  ''told  off"  for 
the  sweeping  of  the  passages  as  well  as  the  court-yards. 

One  of  our  visits  to  Millbank  prison  began  as  early  as  half-past  six  in  {he  morning,  at 
which  time  we  found  the  court-yards  and  passages  alive  with  cleaners.  In  the  outer  court- 
yard was  a  gang  of  men  and  a  warder,  the  latter  armed  with  a  carbine,  the  brass  barrel  of 
which  flashed  in  the  light  as  he  moved  to  and  fro ;  for  it  is  the  custom  at  Millbank  as  we  have 
said,  to  allow  no  prisoner  outside  the  inner  gate,  unless  attended  by  an  officer  under  arms. 
Here  the  men  were  engaged  in  tidying  the  gravelled  area;  one  was  rolling  the  ground — ^the 
heavy  metal  cylinder  that  he  dragged  after  him  emitting  a  loud,  metallic  crushing  noise  as  he 
went ;  another  was  drawing  along  behind  him  a  couple  of  brooms,  ranged  side  by  side,  and 
so  lining  the  earth  almost  as  regularly  as  the  sky  of  a  wood-engraviag,  till  it  showed  the 
marks  of  the  comb,  as  it  were,  as  distinctiy  as  the  hair  of  a  newly- washed  charity  boy. 

"  Those  men  you  see  there,"  whispered  our  guide  as  we  passed,  ''  are  short-sentence 
men ;  for  they  have,  of  course,  the  least  disposition  to  escape.  Some  are  ifi  only  for  four  or 
five  years — anything  under  ten  years  we  consider  a  short  sentence,  and  such  men  only  axe 
put  to  clean  in  the  yards.  Again,  they  are  all  men  in  association,  and  who  have  therefore 
gone  through  their  probation  in  separate  confinement,  so  that  we  have  some  knowledge  of 
tiieir  character  and  conduct  before  they  are  let  out  even  thi^  far." 

Then,  as  we  passed  the  inner  gate,  we  came  upon  more  men  sweeping,  and  raUisg,  and 


MILLBANX  PBISOK.  261 

the  other  court-yardB,  whilst  in  the  passages  we  encountered  prisoner  after  prisoner, 
each  down  on  his  knees,  and,  with  his  jacket  off,  scouring  away  at  the  flags  with  sand  and 
holystone.  On  entering  the  warders'  tower,  too— the  martello-like  building  that  stands 
in  the  centre  of  the  exercising  yards  within  each  pentagon — the  boards  of  the  circular 
apartment  were  a  dark-brown,  with  their  recent  washing.  ^^Here,"  said  our  informant, 
"  the  officers  of  this  pentagon  dine.  The  tower  is  in  charge  of  an  acting  principal  warder, 
and  he  is  responsible  that  all  doors  leading  to  it  are  '  double-shotted.'  "No  person  can  go  in 
and  out  without  his  permission,  excepting  a  superior  officer,  who  has  similar  keys." 

Against  the  walls,  here,  was  a  fanciful  placard,  drawn  in  red  and  blue  ink,  which,  we 
were  told,  was  a  general  roll  of  all  prisoners  located  in  the  pentagon ;  and  here,  too,  was 
affixed,  near  the  door,  another  written  document,  headed  **  Goyernob's  Obdeb — Scale  for 
Cleaning  TFards.***  We  went  up-stairs  to  the  principal  warder's  room,  and  found  the  officer 
in  hlB  ahipi-Bleeves  buirr  writing  out  Bome  official  papers  for  tho  morning. 

%*  JBreakfast,  Sfc. — The  cleaning  of  the  prison  lasts  up  to  twenty  minutes  past  seven, 
and  at  twenty-five  minutes  the  bell  rings  to  prepare  for  the  serving  of  breakfast. 

There  is  a  cook-house  to  every  two  pentagons,  situate  on  the  ground-floor,  at  the  point 
where  the  sides  of  the  neighbouring  pentagons  join.  The  principal  warder  who  accompanied 
us  on  our  rounds,  knocked  with  his  keys  against  the  door  as  we  approached  one  of  the  kitchens. 
We  entered,  and  found  it  a  sufficiently  spacious  apartment,  the  floor  of  which  was  brown  as 
the  top  of  a  custard,  with  its  fresh  coating  of  sand.  The  warder-cook  was  habited  in  the 
approved  white  jacket  and  apron,  and  had  Ave  prisoners  under  him,  who  were  dressed  in 
the  prison  gray  trousers  and  tick-like  check  shirts,  and  had  each  a  leathern  *'  stall,"  or  pad, 
about  their  knees.    Here  were  large  black  boilers,  with  bright-red  copper  lids,  at  the  end  of 

*  GOrSBNOA'S  0BDBE.~SCALB  FOE  OLEANXNO  WAliBS. 

9th  January  J  1856. 

Mendajf  Morning. — ^The  officers  of  the  wards  will  oommenoe  their  duties  at  6*55,  by  seeing  (between  first 
Aod  second  bells)  that  all  prisoners  pat  out  signal-sticks ;  and  they  will  report  to  the  principal  or  tower  warder 
at  6  AJC.  (when  second  bdl  zings)  if  all  is  correct  or  otherwise.  They  will  then  lock  the  gates  at  the  end  of 
their  wards,  and  the  centre  gate,  leading  to  No.  2  passage.  They  will  next  commence  unlocking  the  gates  and 
unbolting  the  cells  themselves  in  No.  1  passage,  calling  out  prisoners  throe  at  a  time,  to  empty  slops,  taking 
care  that  only  one  at  a  time  enters  tho  closet.  When  all  the  prisoners  have  emptied  their  utensils,  and 
awept  out  their  cells  into  the  passage,  they  will  then  direct  the  prisoners  to  place  their  dirty  linen  on  their 
oell-gates,  and  to  show  each  article  separately.  Then  they  will  take  a  prisoner  with  them,  who  will  carry  the 
linen  bag,  and  place  each  man's  kit  in  the  same  bag,  as  it  is  counted  by  the  officer,  after  which  they  will 
lock  and  bolt  all  gates  and  doors  in  No.  1  passage,  proceed  to  No.  2  passage,  and  perform  tho  same  duties. 
They  wUl  then  take  out  eight  prisoners,  placing  one  in  the  centre  of  the  ward,  to  clean  tho  closet,  &c.,  six 
others,  with  their  tables  and  buckets,  to  clean  the  windows.  The  eight  prisoners  they  will  cause  to  sweep 
tho  passages  and  dust  the  walls.  After  completing  the  above  duties,  they  will  lock  and  bolt  up  their 
prifloners,  when  the  bell  rings,  at  7*26,  for  breakfast.  They  will  then  take  two  prisoners  to  the  kitchen, 
fetch  breakfast,  and  serve  the  same  in  the  following  manner : — By  unbolting  and  bolting  the  doors  themselves ; 
at  th^  same  time  they  will  hand  to  each  convict  his  bread,  and  measure  his  cocoa  from  the  can.  After  having 
served  all  their  prisoners,  they  will  proceed  with  one  prisoner  to  the  kitchen,  with  the  can  and  basket,  take 
the  prisoner  back  to  his  cell,  lock  and  bolt  him  up ;  also  examine  all  their  gates  and  doors  before  going  to 
their  rooms,  to  prepare  for  their  own  break&st,  at  8*20  ▲.]!. 

Tmuiajf. — ^Passages  to  be  stoned;  the  men  to  work  backwards,  and  facing  the  centre  of  ward.  Four  cells 
ere  to  bo  cleaned  every  morning,  and  one  passage  stoned  (beginning  on  Tuesday,  and  going  on  to  Friday — 
ibor  days — so  that  passages  may  be  stoned  twice  a  week). 

Saturday, — All  wards  to  be  washed  with  brush  and  cloth. 

Smtday. — ^Nothing  required  to  be  done,  only  the  wards  swept  out  and  dusted.  On  this  day  the  men  rise 
■n  hour  later  than  on  weeic  days. 

For  sweeping  the  yards,  we  were  informed  that  the  officer  of  the  ward  appoints  any  one  he  pleases  for 
■neb  doty,  each  ezeroising-yard  being  cleaned  by  the  first  ward  coming  down  in  the  morning.  There  are 
three  yards  to  each  pentagon,  but  the  centre  yard  is  not  used  at  all  for  exercising — only  those  on  each  side — 
flo  that,  as  there  are  six  wards  to  each  pentagon,  each  ezercising  yard  belongs  to  three  wards. 


262  THE  GREAT  WCiRLD  OP  LONDON. 

the  kitchen,  Bteamiog  and  humming  with  their  boiling  contents,  linder  the  capacious,  hood- 
like chimney  and  long  dressers  at  the  side,  and  large  high-cinuned  tables  in  the  centre, 
that  seemed  like  monster  wooden  trays. 

"  They  are  now  preparing  for  breakfsist,"  said  onr  guide.  "  There,  you  see,  are  the 
cans  for  the  cocoa,"  pointing  to  a  goodly  muster  of  bright  tin  vessels,  in  si^e  and  shape  like 
watering-pots,  and  each  marked  with  the  letters  of  the  wards  from  A  to  H.  On  the  table  were 
rows  of  breads,  like  penny  loaves,  arranged  in  rank  and  file,  as  it  were. 

"This  is  the  female  compartment.  Here,  you  see,"  said  the  officer,  pointing  to  the  £ur(}ier 
side  of  a  wooden  partition  that  stood  at  the  end  of  the  kitchen,  ''  is  the  place  wha:e  the 
women  enter  from  pentagon  3,  whilst  this  side  is  for  the  men  coming  from  pentagon  4."  Pre- 
sently the  door  was  opened  and  files  of  male  prisoners  were  seen,  with  warders,  without. 

**Now,  they're  coming  down  to  have  breakfast  served,"  said  the  cook.  "F  wardl"  cries 
an  officer,  and  immediately  two  prisoners  enter  and  run  away  with  a  tin  can  each,  while 
another  holds  a  conical  basket  and  counts  bread  into  it — saying,  6,  12,  18,  and  so  on. 

When  the  males  had  been  all  served,  and  the  kitchen  was  quiet  again,  the  cook  sud  to 
us,  '*  Now  you'll  see  the  females,  sir.  Are  all  the  cooks  out  ?"  he  cried  in  a  loud  voice ;  and 
when  he  was  assured  that  the  prisoners  serving  in  the  kitchen  had  retired,  the  principal 
matron  came  in  at  the  door  on  the  other  side  of  the  partition.  Presently  she  cried  out, 
**  Now,  Miss  Gardiner,  if  you  please !"  Whereupon  the  matron  so  named  entered,  costumed 
in'  a  gray  straw -bonnet  and  fawn-coloured  merino  dress,  with  a  jacket  of  the  same  material 
over  it,  and  attended  by  some  two  or  three  female  prisoners  habited  in  their  loose,  dark- 
brown  gowns,  check  aprons,  and  close  white  cap. 

The  matron  then  proceeded  to  serve  and  count  the  bread  into  a  basket,  and  afterwards 
handed  the  basket  to  one  of  the  females  near  her.  "I  wish  you  people  would  move  quick 
out  of  the  way  there,"  says  the  principal  female  officer  to  some  of  the  women  who  betray  a 
disposition  to  stare.  While  this  is  going  on,  another  convict  enters  and  goes  off  with  the  tin 
can  full  of  cocoa. 

Then  comes  another  matron  with  other  prisoners,  and  so  on,  till  all  are  served,  when 
the  cook  says,  **Good  morning,  Miss  Cross  well,"  and  away  the  principal  matron  trips, 
leaving  the  kitchen  all  quiet  again — so  quiet,  indeed,  that  we  hear  the  sand  crunching  under 
the  feet. 

%^  Bx^remng. — ^In  the  space  enclosed  within  each  pentagon  there  are  two  large  "  airing 
yards,"  one  of  which  contains  a  circular  pump,  with  a  long  horizontal  and  bent  handle 
stretching  from  it  on  either  side.  Here  one  ward  of  each  pentagon  is  generally  put  to  exer- 
cise at  a  time,  though  sometimes  there  are  two  wards  out  together.  Exercising  usuaUr 
commences  directly  after  chapel  in  the  morning  (quarter  past  nine).  Each  pentagon  has  six 
wards  to  be  exercised  every  day,  and  the  practice  is  generally  to  put  three  to  exercise  before 
dinner  and  three  after.  Those  wards  which  are  for  school  in  the  afternoon  exercise  in  the 
morning,  and  those  which  are  for  morning  school  exercise  in  the  afternoon.  The  exercise 
lasts  one  hour.  The  men  walk  round  the  large  gravelled  court,  with  the  walls  of  the  pentagon 
surrounding  them  on  all  sides. 

The  turn  at  the  pump  lasts  fifteen  minutes,  and  generally  sixteen  men  are  put  on — ^foar 
at. each  large  crank-shaped  handle.  The  others  walk  round  at  distances  of  five  or  six  yards 
between  each  man.  They  go  along  at  an  ordinary  pace.  They  may  walk  as  they  like — 
slowly  or  quickly,  only  they  must  keep  the  fixed  distance  apart.  At  the  pump  the  men 
take  off  their  jackets,  and  stand  generally  two  on  one  side.of  the  handle  and  two  on  the 
other.     At  a  given  signal  they  commence  working. 

In  the  yards  of  some  pentagons  there  are  no  pumps,  and  there  the  men  walk  round 
merely.  The  lame  are  generally  placed  in  the  centre,  and  the  attending  warders  stand  on 
one  side.     In  the  x^ardcr's  tower,  which  occupies  the  centre  of  these  airing-grounds,  "^-fe 


MILLBANK  PKI80N.  263 

could  see  the  men  exercising  all  round  us— some  in  gray,  and  some  in  brown  suits,  circling 
along,  one  after  another,  till  it  made  one  giddy  to  watch  them. 

In  tiiie  airing  yards  of  the  general  ward  belonging  to  pentagon  5,  we,  at  a  later  period  of 
the  day,  found  the  bakers  exercising,  walking  round  and  round,  each  man  being  about 
fifikeen  or  twenty  feet  apart  from  the  next — the  least  distance  allowed  is  six  feet.  The  clothes 
of  these  men  were  stained  with  the  flour  into  a  kind  of  whitey-brown,  and  the  master  baker, 
in  his  white  jacket,  stood  on  one  side  watching  them  the  while. 

%*  Zarge  Af^octated  Roonu. — These  large  rooms  constitute  one  of  the  peculiarities  of 
MiUbank  prison.  There  are  four  such  associated  rooms,  all  on  one  floor,  and  each  room  of 
the  size  of  fifteen  cells  and  the  passage,  thrown  into  one  chamber.  They  are  aU  in  pen- 
tagon 4 ;  three  of  them  are  workshops — ^where  the  men  work,  as  shown  in  the  engraving — 
and  the  other  is  the  infirmary.  Men  are  put  into  these  associated  rooms  after  having  been 
six  months  in  separation. 

The  term  for  separate  confinement  in  Millbank,  it  should  be  remarked,  is  one-third  less 
than  at  Pentonville.  The  governor  limits  the  separation  to  half  a  year,  we  were  told,  because 
such  was  the  practice  at  the  prison  before  the  order  came  out,  and  he  therefore  continues  to 
restrict  it  to  that  number  of  months,  by  a  discretionary  power  from  the  prison  directors. 

''!Xow  we'U  go  into  one  of  the  large  rooms,  and  see  them  all  at  breakfast,  if  you  please," 
said  Warder  Power  to  us,  as  we  were  leaving  the  kitchen. 

Accordingly  we  mounted  the  narrow  stone  staircase,  the  steps  of  which  were  white  and 
sanded,    fler^  we  found  a  warder  at  the  door. 

*'  Stand  on  one  side !     Stand  on  one  side !"  cried  our  companion,  as  we  entered. 
It  was  a  finely-ventilated  apartment,  and  the  air  swept  freshly  by  the  cheek ;  nor  was  the 
slightest  effluviimi  perceptible,  though  there  was  half  a  hundred  people  confined  in  it. 

The  men  sleep  here,  work  here,  take  their  meals  here.  They  roll  their  beds  up  into  the 
shape  of  big  mufGs,  and  place  them  above  on  the  shelf.  The  tables  are  ''  unshipped"  at  night, 
and  the  hammocks  are  slung  to  the  hooks  along  the  rails  on  either  side  of  the  gangway  down 
the  centre. 

Our  informant  explained  that  th^se  large  rooms  are  exactly  the  length  of  a  passage,  and 
five  yards  wide.  ''  They'll  hold  eighty- three,"  he  said ;  ''  but  there's  not  more  than  fifty- 
six  allowed  now." 

The  roof  is  lined  with  sheet-iron,  the  first  or  upper  roof  being  boarded ;  the  lower  one 
arched,  and  of  corrugated  iron-plate,  with  small  iron  rafters  beloWt 

These  large  roon^s  are  severally  divided  in  the  centre  by  a  hot-air  shaft,  which  is  some* 
vhat  like  a  square  Idln  whitewashed,  and  with  a  buge  black  letter  inscribed  in  a  circle 
upon  it.  By  this  shaft  sits  the  warder,  so  as  to  have  one  entire  half  of  the  room  under  his 
eye.  The  men  as  we  entered  were  sitting  upon  forms,  two  at  each  table,  and  so  silent 
was  the  ward,  that  the  warder's  voice,  speaking  to  us,  sounded  distressingly  loud,  and  we 
could  hear  the  munching  of  the  men  at  breakfast.  Each  man  was  newly  washed,  and  had  his 
hair  lined  with  marks  of  the  comb  as  regularly  as  the  newly-swept  gravel  in  the  court-yards, 
whilst  all  had  a  bright  tin  mug,  fuU  of  cocoa,  and  a  small  loaf  of  bread  before  them. 
There  are  seven  tables  on  either  side  of  each  half  of  the  large  room,  and  two  men  at  each 
table.    In  the  centre,  by  the  hot-air  shaft,  is  a  small  desk  with  physic  bottles  on  it,  each 

labelled,  " table-spoonfuls  to  be  taken times  a  day,"  and  the  bottle  divided  into 

*a,n.  Ill,  IV"  parts. 

Against  the  walls,  on  either  side,  were  rolls  of  hammocks  on  the  top  shelves ;  and  on  ^ 
the  shelves  below  were  small  pyramids  of  Bibles  and  Prayer-books,  surmounted  with  a  comb 
and  brash,  while  in  the  centre  of  the  ward  hung  a  thermometer.     ''  This  is  the  instructing 
officer  of  the  ward,"  our  attendant  whispered,  as  the  officer  passed  by,     ''  They'll  commence 
their  work  at  8  o'clock." 
19 


264  TEE  OBSA.T  WOBLD  OF  LONBOK 

Presettfly,  when  tbe  break&st  "was  finished,  the  instraetiiig  warder,  at  the  end  of  tiie 
large  room,  cried  ''  Attention !  Stand  up !"  Whereupon  a  priaoner  repeated  as  follows : — 
<' Bless,  0  Lord,  thesOy^Thy  good  Qi:eatare8,  to  our  use,  and  n9  to  Thy  sesmce^  through  Jesos 
Christ.    Amen." 

All  tlie  prifl^ierB  exdaimed,  "  Amen !"  in  response,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  sweep 
up  the  crumbs,  -and -put  their  tins  on  the  shelves  abov<e,  while  some  wiped  their  cocoa  cans 
with  cloths,  and  others  swept  dean  the  stones  under  the  tables. 

After  this  they  unshipped  the  tables,  and  proceeded  to  work. 

^'  These  men,^'  said  our  warder,  ^^are  shoemaking  and  tailoring.  One  division  is  occupied 
with  one  trade,  and  the  other  wiflithe  other." 

!From  H  large  room  we  passed  into  that  marked  G,  whero  we  found  the  men  all 
tailoring.  The  place  was  intensely  silent — as  silent,  indeed,  as  a  quakers'  meeting.  And 
thence  we  passed  into  F  room,  where  we  foimd  them  engaged  partly  in  tailoring  and  partly 
in  biscuit-bag  making. 

'*  We  h&re  made  as  many  as  20,000  biscuit-bags  for  the  navy  in  a  week  here,  and 
W07B  a  greater  portion  of  the  dloth,  too,"  the  warder  said  tp  us,  with  no  little  pride  in 
the  industry  of  his  men. 

We  found  «ome  of  the  prisoners  here  engaged  in  reading,  while  waiting  till  the  officers 
retomed  from  their  breaHast.  One  was  panvdng  a  treatise  on  "  Znfidelily ;  its  Aspects, 
Causes,  and  Agencies;"  another,  the  ''HomeFriend-*«  weekly  miscellany;"  a  third,  the 
''  Saturday  Magazine ;"  a  fourth,  the  ''  History  of  iEtedemption ;"  and  a  fifth,  the  *'  Family 
Quarrel — an  humble  story." 

Suddenly  the  warder  cried,  -^  Attention ! "  and  (these  having  said  grace  before  we  came 
in)  immediately  up  started  the  whole  of  the  -men ;  some  soused  their  table,  and,  unshipping 
it,  ranged  it  against  the  wall ;  others  placed  the  forms  in  their  proper  places. 

"  Sit  down  to  your  work,  now4  Come,  sit  down  to  your  work  quiokly !"  was  then  the 
order.  Accordingly,  some  of  the  prisoners  seated  themselves  on  tables,  and  commenced 
working  at  convict  clothes ;  others,  on  benches,  began  stitching  at  the  coarse  bags — ^the  bags 
being  feuBtened  to  the  hammock-hooks.  At  the  end  of  the  ward  was  a  huge  pile  of  new 
brown  bags,  ready  to  be  conveyed  to  the  manufacturer's  department. 

'^Lef  s  see,  my  lad,  whether  you  belong  to  the  'forty,'"  said  our  guide  to  one  of  ibe 
workers. 

The  boy,  smiling,  put  out  his  hand,  and  sure  enough,  there  were  the  five  blue  dots 
between  the  finger  and  thumb  indicative  of  his  being  a  professional  thief. 

<<If  they're  not  closely  watched,"  added  our  informant,  ''they  scrape  on  their  cans  the 
cant  name  that  they  go  by  outside,  as  well  as  their  sentences,  so  that  their  ' pals'  may  know 
they're  in  here,  and  lor  how  long." 

%*  The  Jf^lrmafy. — The  next  plaee  we  visited  was  the  large  room  devoted  to  the  si<^. 
Here,  outside  the  door  we  noted  big  baths,  Uke  huge  tin  highlows ;  and  on  entering  we 
found  the  room  of  the  same  extent,  and  fitted  with  the  same  kind  of  roofing  as  the  rooms 
we  had  just  left,  but  down  each  side  here  were  ranged  emaU  iron  bedsteads  (seven  on  eitiier 
side  of  the  ward),  and  fitted  with  the  ordinary  yeUow-brown  rugs  and  blue  check  curtains. 
Some  of  the  men  were  in  bed  and  sitting  up  reading,  and  others  lying  down,  looking  very  UL 
The  fiag-stones  were  intensely  white,  and  set  with  small  brown  cocoa-fibre  mats  next  to 
every  bed.    Near  these  was  a  small  stand,  covered  with  medicine  bottles  and  books. 

Here  the  first  man  we  saw  had  a  large  black  caustic-made  ring  round  his  cheek.  He 
was  suffering  from  erysipelas,  and  the  black  circle  was  to  keep  it  from  spreading  any  further. 
Presently  a  prisoner  brought  a  linseed-meal  poultice  to  one  of  the  invalids.  "  He's  an 
Italian/'  the  warder  whispered  in  our  ear  (the  dark,  raisin-coloured  eyes,  and  the  blue 


VILLBASK  PBISON.  265 

flioold  of  the  sprouting  beard  saidasmuch).  ''He's  got  an  abaoeBS  in  the  groin.  It's  yenezeal, 
I  dare  say/' 

The  men  who  are  upon  the  other  side  of  the  ward  place  themselTeB  at  the  head  of  their 
beds,  and»  as  we  pass,  stand  straight  up  in  the  attitude  of  attention. 

Kow  we  oome  to  another  prisoner,  in  bed  with  a  bad  knee,  and  he  is  sitting  up  and 
binding  a  bandage  on  the  joint.  Beside  him  is  a  ccmyict,  who  acts  as  the  attendant  in  the 
infinnary,  and  habited  in  a  loose  light  blue  dress,  similar  to  that  worn  by  the  convalescents 
in  the  '*  Unite"  hospital  ship,  at  Woolwich.  IXow  tiieie  is  the  sound  of  a  beU.  "  That's 
the  doctor's  bell,"  we  are  told. 

On  the  other  side  of  the  wardi  a  little  brown-faced  negro  boy,  with  his  tar-coloured 
chedos  and  ahort-cropt  woolly  head,  just  showing  above  the  white  sheets.  He  has  a  poul- 
tice on  one  side  of  his  face.  '^  Whaf  s  the  matter  with  you?"  says  the  warder.  ^'  Gk>t  a 
breaking  out  in  my  chedc,  sir,"  he  answers,  pointing  to  the  bandage. 

''No  bad  cases,  have  you?"  asks  oar  attendant.  ""No,  sir,"  is  the  reply.  ''  Tk/cst  man  at 
the  end  of  the  room  is  the  worst — ^him  with  the  erysipelas.  The  other  man's  recover- 
ing fast." 

''  What's  the  matter  with  you  ?"  says  Warder  Power,  to  an  old  man  in  a  flannel  jacket, 
and  in  bed.  "  I've  had  a  very  bad  throat,  please,  sir."  Then  we  pass  more  men,  who  are 
up  and  dressed,  and  standing  at  the  head  of  their  beds,  saluting  us  as  we  go  by ;  and  pre- 
sently we  reach  one  bed  where  the  clothes  are  hooped  up  in  a  grave*like  mound.  ''  What 
are  you  suffering  from  ?"  our  attendant  again  inquires. 

**  Case  of  white  swelling,  sir,"  is  the  answer  of  the  infirmary  warder,  who  walks  at  our 
aide ;  and  so  saying,  he  turns  back  the  bed-dothes,  and  reveals  a  knee  as  big  at  the  joint  as 
a  foot-baU,  and  the  white  parchment  skin  scarred  with  the  still  red  wounds  of  old  leech-bites. 
The  poor  lad  is  a  pasty-white  in  the  face,  and  has  his  shoolders  swathed  in  flannel. 

Next  we  noted  another  bed,  with  a  prisoner  half  concealed  in  it.  **  What's  he  got  f"  our 
-warder  asked.  ''  Inflammation  of  the  lungs,"  we  were  told ;  and  the  man,  as  we  went, 
oomghed  sharp  and  dry.     **  Bad  case,"  whispered  the  infirmary  officer. 

"  That  man,  there,"  says  our  guide,  pointing  to  another  who  sits  beside  the  bed,  with  his 
bead  hanging  down  on  his  chest,  ''  was  paralyzed  here  for  a  long  time  and  on  the  water- 
bed.    We  tlxought  he'd  never  recover ;  and  now  he's  quite  an  idiot." 

At  the  end  of  the  infirmary  is  a  man  huddled  in  bed.  ''Bronchitis,  sir,"  says  the  infirm- 
ary warder,  as  he  sees  us  look  at  the  poor  fellow. 

The  man  never  stirs  nor  raises  his  eye,  and  seems  as  if  unwilling  to  be  noticed. 

On  our  leaving  the  sad  place,  the  warder  stops  in  the  passage  immediately  outside  the 
door  and  says  to  us,  "  He's  in  for  embezzling  a  large  amount.  He  was  collector  of  inland 
revenue  in  the  county  of  York,  and  made  away  with  the  money  he  received — several 
thousands,  I've  heard." 

%*  The  Qeneral  Ward. — ^The  only  other  largeroom  is  the  "general  ward,"  as  it  is  called. 
This  is  a  separate  apartment,  built  out  in  the  open  space  or  court  within  pentagon  5.  It 
waa  originally  constructed  for  juvenile  prisoners  under  eighteen  years  of  age ;  and,  at  that 
time,  a  system  of  tailoring,  shoemaking,  &c.,  was  earned  out  by  ^<^  lads  located  in  it. 
They  worked,  atcy  and  slept,  in  common,  in  this  one  room.  But  when  the  class  of  convict 
boys  was  found  to  be  diminishing,  and  the  system  of  transportation  was  discontinued, 
exo^[iting  for  long  sentences,  the  juvenile  ward  was  then  converted  into  the  "general  ward," 
for  tiie  purpose  of  receiving  prisoners  in  association;  for  at  that  time  the  associated  wards 
were  not  laige  enough  to  accommodate  all  the  prisoners— the  system  at  Millbank  being  to 
place  every  man  in  silent  association,  after  having  been  six  months  in  separate  confinement. 

"l£r.  Hall,"  said  our  attendant  to  a  warder  near  at  hand,  "just  fet<di  me  the  key  of  the 
genenl  ward."  And  when  the  irarder  retained,  we  were  ushered  into  the  apartment  We 
19> 


266  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

found  it  a  large  square  room,  as  spacious  as  a  law-court,  but  under  repair — ^in  the  course  of 
being  whitewashed.  In  its  desolate  condition,  it  struck  us  as  being  not  unlike  a  small  market- 
place on  a  Sunday.  The  skylighted  roof  was  of  light  iron-work,  like  a  railway  terminus;  and 
there  was  a  kind  of  a  lai^  square  counter  fixed  in  the  centre  of  the  ward,  having  a  desk 
within.  All  round  the  sides  was  ranged  a  series  of  lai^  compartments,  called  "  bays,"  and 
each  separa1»d  by  a  light  partition  from  the  next.  In  each  of  these  bays  six  men,  we  were 
told,  worked,  dined,  and  slept:  three  in  hammocks  below,  and  three  above.  These  bays 
were  like  the  boxes  at  '*  dining-rooms."  The  table  to  each  of  the  compartments  had  a  kind 
of  leg,  that  ''  flapped  up,"  and  the  table  itself  admitted  of  being  hooked  into  the  wall  at  the 
end  of  the  bay.  ''When  the  prisoners  have  Bnished  their  meals,"  our  informant  said,  "they 
turn  over  the  leaves  of  the  upper  part  of  the  table,  and  draw  out  supports  from  the  side  of  the 
bay,  for  the  leaves  to  rest  upon ;  and  so,  by  covering  over  the  entire  bay,  the  table  forms  a 
shop-board  for  the  prisoners  to  work  upon  as  tailors.  Nothing  but  tailoring  is  carried  on  in 
the  general  ward."    The  flooring  is  of  asphalte,  blacked  and  polished  as  at  PentonviUe. 

Round  the  platform,  in  the  centre,  were  four  counters ;  and  here,  we  were  informed,  the 
instructors  stand  and  give  out  the  work  to  the  prisoners  in  the  bays.  An  instructor  is  told 
off  for  each  division,  besides  discipline  officers ;  and  the  instructor  goes  round  to  the  bays 
and  looks  after  work.  AU  the  men — and  there  are  216  located  here  when  the  place  is  frill 
— ^work  with  the  greatest  precision,  and  in  perfect  silence,  so  that,  as  the  warder  assured  us, 
one  might  hear  a  pin  fall  on  the  floor.  The  principal  warder  sits  at  the  central  desk  on  a 
raised  platform,  and  there  are  benches  ranged  on  one  side  of  the  ward  for  the  school.  Each 
bay  has  its  gaslight,  and  in  summer  the  skylights  can  be  raised  by  a  simple  contrivance. 
On  Sunday  the  general  ward  is  used  as  the  Catholic  chapel,  and  such  prisoners  as  belong  to 
the  Church  of  Rome  attend  worship  there. 

%*  The  Prison  Garden  and  Chu^ehyard. — ^At  Miilbank,  owing  to  the  large  extent  of 
ground  surrounding  the  prison,  like  a  broad  moat  within  the  walls,  there  is  what  is 
termed  a  garden  class  of  prisoners.  This  consists  principally  of  convicts  labouring  under 
scrofrila  or  falling  away  in  flesh,  and  it  is  sometimes  termed  the  ''  convalescent  class"  also. 
Prisoners  belonging  to  it  are  allowed  extra  food.  They  have  a  pint  of  new  nulk  in  the 
morning  for  breakfast,  one  end  a  half  pound  of  bread  a  day,  nine  ounces  of  mutton  in  broth, 
a  small  quantity  of  beer,  and  a  pint  of  milk  again  in  the  evening ;  they  are  also  permitted 
to  walk  in  the  outer  garden  for  two  hours  every  day.  These  prisoners  are  lodged  ia 
B  ward  of  pentagon  4.  It  was  here  that  we  met  three  "privileged  men,"  in  light-blue 
clothes,  with  two  red  stripes  on  the  arm.  Such  men  can  be  kept  here  instead  of  being  sent  to 
the  Hulks  or  the  other  public  works,  we  were  told.  They  are  always  the  best-behaved  and 
most  trusty  of  the  prisoners.  The  last  of  the  privileged  men  that  passed  us  had  so  different 
a  look  frx)m  that  of  the  ordinary  convict,  that  we  could  not  help  noticing  him  particularly, 
and  then  we  recognized  the  once  eminent  City  merchant,  who  was  sentenced  to  transporta- 
tion for  fraud  some  months  ago.  He  saw  by  our  look  that  we  detected  him  even  in  his 
convict  garb,  and  hiuTied  past  us 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  warder,  *'the  life  here  must  be  a  great  change,  for  such  as  him 
especially.  Some  of  the  prisoners  are  better  off  than  ever  they  were ;  but  a  person  like 
that  one,  who  thought  nothing  of  dealing  to  the  extent  of  a  quarter  of  a  million  a  day,  most 
feel  it  sorely." 

This  person,  we  were  told,  found  special  consolation  in  the  study  of  languages,  and  on 
the  table  of  his  cell  was  a  high  pyramid  of  books,  consisting  of  French  and  German 
exercises,  with  others  of  a  religious  character. 

At  another  part  of  the  day  we  visited  the  garden.  Passing  through  a  small  door  in  the 
large  wooden  gate,  by  the  side  of  the  main  entrance,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  yard 
in  front  of  pentagon  6,  and  with  the  high  boundary  wall  shutting  it  off  frt>m  the  public  way 


MIIXBANK  PRISON,  267 

vithont.  Here,  in  the  centre,  ■was  an  immense  oval  tank  or  leserroir  (like  that  formerly  in 
the  Green  Park,  but  much  Bmaller),  and  with  a  whitewashed  bricken  rim,  Htanding  above 
the  ground.  This  was  divided  into  three  compartments,  and  was  supplied  with  water  irom 
the  Thames,  originally  for  the  u^e  of  the  prisoners.  The  centre  compartment  was  intended 
to  act  as  a  filter  for  the  water  passing  from  one  end  of  the  reeervoir  to  the  other ;  but  this 
was  found  a  failure,  and  so  it  certainly  appeared,  for  the  colour  of  the  liquid  on  the  filtered 
aide  was  the  Ught-green  opaque  tint  of  diluted  "  absinthe,"  end  but  a  shade  clearer  than  the 
unfiltered  pool  which  partook  strongly  of  the  horse-pond  character — a  weak  slush.  This 
rMerroir  is  no  longer  used  to  supply  the  prison  with  watf r,  for  after  the  outbreak  of  tlie 


CONVICTS  WOUKLKG  VI  rUE  OABDEN  GROUND,  4TTEMIKD  BY  AH  AKUED  WAKDEK. 

cholera  in  '54,  the  several  pentagons  were  provided  with  water  pumped  up  from  the  artesian 
wcUa  in  Trafalgar  Square. 

Hence  we  passed  tiirough  small  palisaded  gates  into  the  prison  kitchen-garden,  where 
there  was  a  broad  gravelled  walk  between  trimly-kept  beds  on  either  side. 

"The  garden  neit  the  prison,"  said  the  warder,  who  still  accompanied  us,  "belongs 
to  the  governor,  and  that  next  the  boundary  wall  to  the  chaplain.  The  deputy -governor's 
garden  adjoins  the  chaplain's,  a  little  farther  on.  There  is  a  gardener,  with  three  prisoners, 
to  manage  the  whole."  Here  we  found  fruit-trees,  and  currant  and  other  bushes,  as  well  as 
carefnlly-tanded  beds  of  fresh-lookiag  vegetables. 

At  the  entrance  te  the  tongue  or  Y-shaped  atrip  of  land,  lying  between  pentagons  5  and 
6,  stood  a  warder,  with  the  barrel  of  a  blunderbuss  resting  across  his  airm. 

This  told  UB  that  the  prisoners  employed  in  the  garden  were  at  work  at  that  part.  "We 
went  across  to  see  the  kind  of  labour  performed,  and  here,  among  the  convict  gang,  we  noted 


268 


THE  GEBAT  W(fBLD  OP  LONDON. 


one  whose  estate  bad  recently  sold  for  £25,000,  dressed  in  the  prison  garb  and  busy  hoeing 
between  the  rows  of  beans  that  were  planted  there. 

Thenoe  our  path  lay  past  the  depnty-goyemor's  long  strip  of  garden,  and  so  throngh 
another  low  gate  in  the  palisading  that  divided  the  kitchen-garden  £rom  the  ground  demoted 
to  the  general  purposes  of  the  prison.  Here  on  one  side  of  the  central  pathway  the  ground 
was  planted  with  mangold- wnrzel,  and  on  the  other  with  white  carrots.  There  are  six 
prisoners  at  work  here  all  the  year  round,  watched  over  by  an  armed  officer,  either  cultirating 
the  ground  or  rolling  the  paths. 

At  the  edge  of  the  pathway  stood  a  desolate-looking  black  sentry-box,  erected  for  the 
officer  who  is  on  duty  in  the  garden  at  night.  The  next  tongue  of  land  between  pentagons 
4  and  5  was  coyered  with  a  crop  of  rank  grass,  so  thick  and  tall  that  it  positiyely  undulated  in 
the  breeze  like  a  field  of  green  corn.  ''Nothing  else  will  grow  in  those  places,  unless  in  the 
yery  best  aspect,"  our  attendant  told  us.  He  thought  there  were  altogether  about  four 
acres  of  garden  ground  round  about  the  prison. 

Then  as  we  turned  the  comer  by  the  general  centre  tower,  at  the  apex  of  pentagon  4,  we 
discoyered,  on  the  side  of  the  path  next  the  boundary-wall,  an  oblong  piece  of  land, 
enclosed  within  a  low  black  iron  rail,  and  with  a  solitary  dder-tree  growing  in  a  round  green 
tuft  close  beside  the  fence.  This  was  exactly  opposite  to  the  tongue  of  ground  between  the 
pentagons  3  and  4,  so  that  it  occvymd  yery  nearly  tile  same  pontLn  at  the  back  of  the  jail 
as  the  outer  gate  does  in  £ront  of  it. 

''  That,"  said  Warder  Power,  ''  is  the  ehurehyard  of  the  prisoii.  It's  no  longer  used  as 
a  burying-plaoe  for  the  conyicts  now.  In  the  eholeca  of  1848,  so  many  corpses  were  inteired 
there  that  the  authorities  thoughl  it  unhealthy.  The  bodies  of  conyicts  dying  in  the  prison 
are  buried  at  the  Yictoria  Oemetery,  Mile  End,  bow.  After  a  poii^mart&m  examination  has 
taken  place,  an  offieer  of  th^fiison  goes  with  the  coffifty  and  is  generally  the  only  person 
present  at  the  ceremony." 

We  enteiei  the  sad  spol^  aad  foujiA  the  eaiflk  arranged  in  motmcU,  and  planted  aU  oyer 
with  marigolis,  the  bright  orange  floireraQf  which  studded  the  place,  and  seemed  in  the  sun- 
shine almost  to  spangle  the  sur&ce.  At  <me  part  were  three  tombstones,  raised  to  the 
memory  of  some  departed  prison  officers ;  but  of  the  remains  of  the  wretched  conyicts  that 
lay  buried  there,  not  a  single  record  was  to  be  found.  It  was  well  that  no  stone  chronicled 
their  wxetohed&te,  and  yet  it  was  most  aad  tiiat  sen  should  leaye  the  world  in  such  a  way.^ 


•  THB  ZOLLOWIKO  ABB  TRB  nreOBXP1]i08l  0«  «HB  TOXB-STOKai  :?— 


To  the  Memory  of 
EDKUNB  JAGG   FALKER, 


SMKtf 

Jto  Jgtrtraii  <^th$  Qmtral  FmUtmtUay, 

Who  diod  of  Counimptlon 

Thel8(hAiigiut,18S8, 

lahiiirthTwr. 

He  i»  gons  h^fbn. 


To  the  Mflmory  of 

WILIIAIC   JAQUSS, 

lAto  aa  OfBoff  Sn  ttio 
QtKunX  Pfloiteatiary, 

WboDqiartodttiifLlfo 

IStliJaaiury,  1888. 

Afod  08  Yean, 

Mb  I0IM  mu0h  hUo9ed  and 

lamtnted  bjf  kk  Wf/e  and 

IHmdi,  and  kigktp  re^^eeted 

hif  ki9  Brother  Cigletn, 


RBEB  LUS  ni  BOST  OV 

SLIZA  WILEIK80K, 

LATE  KATmOH  UK  TBM 

oxnxBAx.  PBMirxmnAST 

AT  mLLBAJUC, 
WHO  DIID  AT  WOOLWICS, 

o»  BOAmv  THs  Hsmoxait 


A«  AK  KOariTAL  UXP 

fOK  rxKAui  vBXMnriu 

BBLOXODIO  TO  THZC 
Vmft  SSATSt 


oir  TBI  24ts  hat,  18S4, 
szFBZTso  nm  nutoma 

OV  A  XI1I9  nUSKS, 
AXB  TBia  nTABUaOlIBIIT 
OF  AX    IZOSLLIIIT    OFROn* 


HULBAinC  FBISOK.  269 

f  iv.— e. 

m 

The  female  i^riBCHiy  thouglL  ibnniiig  part  of  the  Bsane  huilding  as  that  devoted  to  the 
male  prisonerB,  may  still  be  regarded  aa  a  difltinot  establiahment,  for  it  oooupies  one 
entire  pentagon  (pentagon  3)>  and  has  not  (mly  a  set  of  (Ulcers  peculiarly  its  own,  but  is 
entered  by  different  keys. 

The  female  prison  here  is  to  Brixton  what  the  male  prism  is  to  Pentonvillo— a  kind  of 
depot  to  which  the  convicts  are  forwarded  as  vacancies  occur. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  173^  female  prisoners  located  in  this  establishment, 
throughout  the  several  wards ;  a  portion  of  whom  were  in  separate  confinement^  and  the 
remainder  working  in  association. 

''  This  is  Miss  Gosgrove,  the  principal  matron,  siPt"  said  the  warder,  as  we  entered 
the  gate  and  were  introduced  to  a  good-looking  young  ''  officer." 

" The  female  uniform,  you  see,''  the  warder  added,  "is  the  same  as  at  Brixton,  with  the 
exception  of  the  bonnets — their's  is  white  straw,  and  oui^s  is  gray. 

<<  This  yard,"  said  Miss  Cosgrove,  opening  a  door  at  the  side  of  the  passage  into  a  long 
narrow  airing  ground,  where  a  fat-looking  prisoner,  in  her  dark  claret-brown  gown  and 
check  apron,  was  walking  to  and  fro  by  herself,  *'  is  fen:  sueh  convicts  as  are  too  bad  to  be 
put  to  exercise  with  othenk  That  is  one  of  the  women  who  has  been  aotiBg  in  the  most 
obscene  and  impudent  manner  at  Brixton,  l^en  they're  bad,  they're  bad  indeed!"  said  the 
young  matron,  as  we  turned  away. 

'*  The  female  officers,"  replied  the  warder,  **  carry  out  better  discipline  here  than  even  at 
Brixton ;  a  great  deal  of  determination  and  energy  is  required  by  female  officers  to  do  the  duty. 

The  matron  now  opened  a  heavy  door  that  moaned  on  its  hinges.  "  This  is  A  waid, 
and  has  thirty  cells  in  it,  exactly  the  same  as  those  in  the  male  pentagon." 

The  cells  had  register  numbers  outside,  but  the  grated  gate  was  considerably  lighter, 
though  equally  as  strong  as  those  in  the  other  pentagons. 

As  we  peeped  into  one  of  the  little  ceUs,  we  saw  a  good-lookmg  girl  with  a  sk^  of  thread 
round  her  neck,  seated  and  busy  makiTig  a  shirt.  The  mattress  and  blankets  were  rolled  up 
into  a  square  bundle,  as  in  the  male  cells.  There  was  a  small  wooden  stool  and  little  square 
table  with  a  gas  jet  just  over  it;  the  bright  tins,  wooden  platter,  and  salt-box,  a  few  books, 
and  a  slate,  and  signal-stick  shaped  like  a  harlequin's  wand,  were  all  neatly  arranged  upon 
the  table  and  shelf  in  the  coiner.  The  costume  of  the  convicts  here  is  the  same  as  at 
Brixton. 

"The  women  are  mostly  in  for  common  larcenies,"  said  the  matron,  as  we  walked 
down  the  long  narrow  passage  between  the  cells;  ''and  many  of  them  have  been 
servants;  some  have  been  gentiemen's  servants,  and  a  good  nimiber  have  been  farm 
servants;  but  the  fewest  number  are,  strange  to  say,  of  the  unfortunate  class  in  the 
Btieets." 

''Yes,"  chimes  in  the  warder,  "not  a  great  many  of  them  come  here." 

"Generally  speaking,"  said  the  matron,  as  she  conducted  us  through  the  pentagon, 
"  tiiose  who  have  been  very  bad  outside  are  found  the  best  in  prison  both  for  work  and 
behaviour;  and  the  longest-sentenced  females  are  usually  the  best  behaved." 

"The  long  sentences  are,  mostly,  for  murder — duld-murder,"  she  added;  "and  this  is 
usually  the  first  and  only  ofEence;  but  the  others  are  continually  in  and  out,  and  become 
at  last  regular  jail  people." 

"The  farm  servants^"  continued  Miss  Gosgrove,  "are,  ordinarily^  a  better  class  of 
people ;  but  some  are  very  stubborn.    Yes !  one  we  had  in  here  was  f^ry  bad." 


270  THE  GBEAT  WOULD  OF  LONDON. 

The  convicts  pick  coir  for  the  first  two  months,  and,  if  well-behayed  for  that  tune,  they 
are  then  put  to  needlework.  Their  door  is  bolted  np  for  the  first  four  months  of  their 
incarceration.* 

We  now  entered  the  laundry,  which  reminded  us  somewhat  of  a  fish-market,  with  its  wet- 
looking,  black,  shiny  asphalte  fioor.  The  plape  was  empty — ^work  being  finished  on  the 
Friday.  On  Saturday  mornings,  the  convicts  who  are  usuaUy  employed  to  do  the  washing, 
go  to  school,  and  in  ^e  afternoon  they  clean  the  laundry,  so  as  to  have  it  ready  for  work 
on  Monday  morning.  Long  dressers  stretch  round  the  building ;  there  is  a  heavy  mangle  at 
one  side,  and  cloths*-horses,  done  up  in  quires,  rest  against  the  wall. 

We  are  next  led  through  the  drying  and  getting-up  room,  and  so  into  the  wash-house. 
Here  we  find  rows  of  troughs,  with  brass  taps,  for  hot  and  cold  water,  jutting  over  them. 
There  is  a  large  bricken  boiler  at  one  end  of  the  apartment,  pails  and  tubs  stand  about, 
and  a  few  limp- wet  clothes  are  still  on  the  lines.  '^  There  are  only  ten  women  washing 
every  week  now,"  observed  the  matron ;  '*  we  have  had  thirty-six  or  forty— quite  as  many  as 
that.  We  used  to  do  for  the  whole  service,  but  at  present  we  wash  only  for  the  female 
prisoners  and  their  officers. 

*  MOnOfB  TO  FEKALB  C01WICT8. 

Priaonen  of  good  conduct,  and  maintaming  a  character  for  willing  industry,  will,  by  this  nde,  be  enaUed, 
after  certain  fixed  periods,  to  obtain  the  higher  stages,  and  gain  the  priyileges  attached  to  them. 

For  the  present,  and  until  further  orders,  the  foUowing  l^ules  will  be  observed : — 

The  first  stage  of  penal  discipline  will  be  carried  out  at  Millbank  prison,  where  two  classes  will  be  esta- 
blished, viz.,  The  Probation  CIsm,  and  the  Third  Class. 

The  second  stage  of  discipline  will  be  carried  out  at  Brixton,  where  the  prisoners  will  be  divided  into  tlie 
First,  Second,  and  Third  Glasses. 

The  third  stage  of  discipline  and  industrial  training  prior  to  discharge  will  be  carried  out  at  Burlington 
House,  Fulham,  for  those  prisoners  who,  by  their  exemplary  conduct  in  the  first  and  second  stages,  appear 
deserving  of  being  removed  to  that  establishment. 

Millbank  Probation  Class, 

1.  All  prisoners,  on  reception,  will  be  placed  in  the  probation  class,  in  ordinary  cases,  for  a  period 
of  four  months,  and,  in  special  cases,  fbr  a  longer  period,  according  to  their  conduct  During  this  time  thoir 
cell-doors  will  be  bolted  up. 

2.  The  strictest  silence  will  be  enforced  with  prisoners  in  this  class  on  all  occasions,  and  they  will  be 
occupied  in  picking  coir,  until,  by  their  industry  and  good  conduct,  they  may  appear  deserving  of  other 
employment. 

3.  No  prisoner  in  the  probation  class  will  be  allowed  to  receive  a  visit. 

4.  Every  prisoner  having  passed  through  the  probation  class  is  liable  to  be  sent  back  thereto,  and  recom- 
menoe  the  period  of  probation,  upon  the  recommendation  of  the  governor,  and  with  the  sanction  of  a  director. 

5.  On  leaving  the  probation  class,  the  prisoners  will  be  received  into  the  third  class. 

Diseiplim  ofih$  Third  Class, 

6.  No  prisoner  will  be  allowed  to  receive  a  visit  until  she  has  been  well-oonducted  for  the  space  of  two 
months  in  the  third  class. 

7.  The  strictest  silence  will  be  enforced  with  prisoners  in  this  class  on  all  occasions. 

8.  Prisoners,  whose  conduct  has  been  exemplfuy  in  the  third  class  for  a  period  of  four  months,  will  be 
eligible  for  removal  to  Brixton  when  vacancies  occur. 

nVLBS  FOB  THE  PENAL  CLASS  07  FEMALE  COITVICTS  AT  KILLBAKK  PBIBON. 

1.  To  have  their  cells  bolted  up,  and  be  kept  in  strict  separation. 

2.  To  be  employed  in  picking  coir  or  oakum,  or  in  some  such  occupation,  for  the  first  three  montha 
after  reception; 

3.  Not  to  be  allowed  to  receive  visits  or  letters,  or  to  write  letters. 

4.  Not  to  attend  school  for  the  first  three  months  after  their  reception,  and  not  then  unless  their  oondnct 
may  warrant  the  indulgence.  In  the  event,  however,  of  the  governor  and  chaplain  agreeing  that  any  indi- 
vidual female  convict  in  the  penal  class  may  be  permitted  to  attend  school  at  an  earlier  period  than  three 
months,  she  may  attend  accordingly. 

5.  In  the  event  of  a  female  convict  in  the  penal  class  committing  any  offence  against  the  prison  rulee^ 
the  governor  shall  have  the  power  of  punishing  such  a  prisoner,  as  laid  down  in  rule  18,  ptge  11,  of  the 
rules  applicable  to  the  jsovemor,  for  any  term  not  exceeding  seven  days. 


MILLBANK  PRISON.  271 

"  We've  fire  matronB,  ten  BssiErtant-iniitioiiB,  one  infiimary  oook,  and  one  prinoipal 
matron,"  eaid  Uiw  Cosgrove,  in  answer  to  our  inquiry  as  to  the  offlci&L  staff  for  the  female 
portion  of  the  prison. 

"ThisisBward — the  first  probatioo  ward,"  says  the  matron,  as  ve  ent«r  another  passage. 

Here  we  find  the  inner  wooden  doora  thrown  back.     "  These  women  have  all  been  here 
len  than  three  months,"  odds  the  prinoipal  matron.     "  Such  tm  you  have  already  seen  at 
needlework  have  been  here  over  two  months, 
and  those  that  have  coir  to  pick  have  been 
ia  less  than  two  months." 

"  Oh,  ye« ;  the  brooms  and  scissors  are 
all  taken  out  every  night,  the  same  as  at 
Biixlon,"  eaid  the  matron  to  us. 

As  we  pass,  the  convicts  all  jamp  up 
and  curtsey — some  of  them  bobbing  two  or 
three  times.  All  wear  the  close  white  prison 
cop.  Some  ore  pretty,  and  others  coarse- 
featured  women ;  many  of  them  are  impu- 
dent-looking, and  curl  their  lip,  and  stare 
at  us  as  ve  go  by. 

"We've  got  many  Uary  MacWil- 
liamses  (a  model  incorrigible)  here,"  said 
the  warder  to  us.  "  Ah,  she's  a  nice  crea- 
ture !  I  brought  her  &om  Brixton." 

"She's  going  back  again,"  interposed 
the  matron. 

"Is  she,  by  George!"  rejoined  the  war- 
der.   Then  they'll  have  a  nice  one  to  look 

slier.    I  went  to  get  the  inconigiblee  from  ^ 

Brixton,  and  bron^t  them  here.  We  went 
on  very  nicely  till  we  got  them,  and 
they've  done  our  business.  Some  of  them 
hare  softened  down  wonderAilly  well 
though ;  we'd  hard  battles  at  first,  but  we 

conqnered  them  at  last.     I  do  think  those  

who  were  brought  down  here  were  the  very  feualk  convict  in  canvas  dbess 

vorst  women  in  existence.     I  don't  fancy  (crHD(iTiniuoH»T»KTUMii<a  ■ucunnn). 

their  equal  could  be  found  anywhere. 

"  Thgrt't  one  of  out  punishment  cells,"  says  the  dark-eyed  young  matron,  as  we  quit  B 
ward,  passage  No.  2.    llie  cell  was  not  quite  dark ;  there  was  a  bed  in  the  comer  of  it. 

"  What  can  the  women  do  there  ?"  asked  we.  "Do.'"  cried  the  matron;  "why,  they 
can  sing  and  dance,  and  whistle,  and  make  use,  as  they  do,  of  the  meet  profane  language 
conceivable." 

We  now  proceeded  np  stairs  to  the  punishment  cell  on  the  landing.  This  one  was 
intensely  dark,  with  a  kind  of  grating  in  the  walls  fbr  ventilation,  but  no  light-hole;  and 
there  was  a  small  raised  wooden  bed  in  the  comer.  The  cell  was  shut  in  first  by  a  grated 
gale,  then  a  wooden  door,  lined  with  iron,  with  another  door  outside  that ;  and  then  a  kind 
of  mattress,  or  laige  straw-pad,  arranged  on  a  slide  before  the  outer  door,  to  deaden  the 
Bound  from  frithin.  "  Those  are  the  best  dark  cells  in  all  England,"  said  our  guide,  as  hd 
closed  the  many  doors.  "  They're  clean,  warm,  and  well  ventilated."  There  were  five  such 
cells  in  a  line,  and  each  with  the  same  apparatus  outside  for  deadening  the  sound  within,  as 
we  have  before  described.  .  / 


272  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OP  lONDOlST. 

*'  That's  one  of  the  women  under  punishment  who^s  singing  now/'  said  the  matron,  as 
we  stood  still  to  listen.  ''  They  generally  sing.   Oh !  thai^s  nothing — ^that's  yery  qniet  £br  them. 
Their  language  to  the  minist^  is  sometimes  so  horrible,  that  I  am  obliged  to  ran  away  with 
•  disgust." 

<<  Some  that  weVe  had/'  went  on  the  matron,  ''  haye  torn  up  their  beds.  They  make  np 
songs  themselyes  all  about  the  offiicers  of  the  prison.  Oh !  they'll  have  eyery  one  in  their 
yerses — the  directors,  the  goyemor,  and  all  of  us."  She  then  repeated  the  following  dog- 
gerel from  one  of  the  prison  songs : — *  *'  If  you  go  to  Millbank,  and  you  want  to  see  Miss 
Cosgroye,  you  must  inquire  at  the  round  house ; — ^and  they'll  add  something  I  can't  tell  you  of." 

We  went  down  stairs  and  listened  to  the  woman  in  the  dark  cell,  who  was  singing 
<< Buffalo  Gkils,"  but  we  could  not  make  out  a  word — ^we  could  only  catch  the  tune. 

In  F  ward  is  the  padded  ceU.  "  We'ye  not  had  a  woman  in  here  for  many  months," 
said  the  matron,  as  we  entered  the  place.  The  apartment  was  about  six  feet  high ;  a 
wainscot  of  mattresses  was  ranged  aU  round  the  waUs,  and  large  beds  were  placed  on  the 
ground  in  one  comer,  and  were  big  enough  to  coyer  the  whole  cell.  *'  This  is  for  peraons 
subject  to  fits,"  says  the  matron ;  "  but  yery  few  suffer  from  them." 

The  matron  now  led  us  into  a  double  cell,  containing  an  iron  bed  and  treaseL  Here  the 
windows  were  all  broken,  and  many  of  the  sashes  shattered  as  welL  This  had  been  done 
by  one  of  the  women  with  a  tin  pot,  we  were  informed. 

'*  What  is  this.  Miss  Cosgroye  ?"  asked  the  warder,  pointing  to  a  bundle  of  sticks  like 
firewood  in  the  comer. 

"Oh,  thaf  8  the  remains  of  her  table!  And  if  we  hadn't  come  in  time,  she  wouldhsre 
broken  up  her  bedstead  as  well,  I  dare  say."  We  now  reached  the  school-room,  where  wc 
found  four  women,  with  a  lady  in  black  teaching  them. 

'^  They  get  on  yery  well  while  in  separate  confinement,"  says  the  teacher  to  us^  ''  but 
rather  slow  when  in  association." 

''  j[%a^s  where  we  weigh  tha  women  when  they  come  in,"  said  the  matron,  as  we  passed 
along.  ''The  men  are  not  weighed;  it  has  been  disoontinued  since  Major  Ghx>yes' time. 
We  find  some  go  out  the  same  weight,  but  yery  often  they  are  heavier  than  when  they  came 
in,  and  we  seldom  find  that  they  haye  lost  flesh." 

We  next  entered  G  ward,  on  tiie  middle  floor.  Here  we  noted  some  good-lookiiig 
women;  though  the  conyicts  are  not  generally  remarkable  for  good  looks,  being  often 
coarse-featured  people. 

"  Some  of  our  best-looking  are  among  the  worst  behayed  of  aU  the  prisoners  in  the  fbmale 
ward,"  says  the  matron. 

One  woman  was  at  work  picking  coir,  with  her  back  turned  towards  us.  We  looked  at  her 
register  nimiber  aboye  the  door,  and  read  on  the  back  of  the  card  the  name  of  Alic$  Qrey. 

We  now  reach  D  ward,  passage  No.  2 ;  this  is  the  penal  ward. 

Here  the  windows  were  wired  inside,  and  had  rude  kinds  of  Venetian  blinds  fixed  on  the 
outside ;  the  cells  were  comparatiyely  dark,  and  the  prisoners  younger  and  much  prettier 
than  any  we  had  yet  seen.  Many  of  them  smiled  impndentiy  as  we  passed.  Hero  the 
bedding  was  ranged  in  square  bundles  all  along  the  passage,  because  the  prisoners  had  been 
found  to  wear  them  for  busties. 

''  Those  bells,"  points  out  the  matron,  "  are  to  call  male  officers  in  case  of  alami." 

Presentiy  we  saw,  inside  one  of  the  cells  we  passed,  a  girl  in  a  ooaise  canyas  dress, 
strapped  oyer  her  claret-brown  conyict  clothes.  This  dress  was  fastened  by  a  belt  and 
straps  of  the  same  stuff,  and,  instead  of  an  ordinary  buckle,  it  was  held  tight  by  means 
of  a  key  acting  on  a  screw  attached  to  the  back.  The  girl  had  been  tearing  her  dothes, 
and  the  coarse  canyas  dress  was  put  on  to  preyent  her  repeating  the  act. 

"  These  two  girls  are  reformed  since  I  brought  them  oyer  from  Brixton,"  says  the 
warder  to  us.    ''Those  three  also  are  quite  reformed;  if  s  nine  months  since  I  brought  them 


IcnXBAKS  PBISOK* 


373 


oyer.  The/xe  weIl-o<mdncted  now,  or  they  wonldn't  be  together."  The  girl  in  the  caayas 
dress  was  now  heard  langhing  as  we  passed  down  the  ward. 

The  matron  had  a  canvas  dress  bronght  out  for  onr  inspection ;  and  while  we  were 
grammitig  it  a  noise  of  singing  was  heard  once  more,  whexenpon  the  warder  informed  ns 
that  it  proceeded  fix>]n  the  lady  in  the  dark  oelly  who  was  getting  up  a  key  or  two  higher. 
The  canvas  dress  we  found  to  be  like  a  coarse  sack,  with  sleeves,  and  straps  at  the  waist — 
tiie  latter  made  to  fasten,  as  we  have  said  before,  with  small  screws.  "With  it  we  were 
shown  the  prison  strait-waistcoat,  which  consisted  of  a  canvas  jacket,  with  black  leathern 
sleeves,  like  boots  closed  at  the  end,  and  with  straps  up  the  arm. 

The  canvas  dress  has  sometimes  been  cut  up  by  the  women  with  bits  of  broken  glass. 
Formerly  the  women  used  to  break  the  glass  window  in  the  penal  ward,  by  taking  the  bones 
out  of  their  stays  and  pushing  them  through  the  wires  in  &ont." 

"  Oh,  yes,  IJiey  'd  sooner  lose  their  lives  i^an  their  hair !"  said  the  warder,  in  answer  to 
onr  question  as  to  whether  the  females  were  cropped  upon  entering  the  prison.  ''We  do 
not  allow  them  to  send  locks  of  the  hair  cut  off  to  their  sweethearts ;  locks,  however,  are 
generally  sent  to  their  children^  or  sisters,  or  mother,  or  &ther,  and  leave  is  given  to  them  to 
do  as  much ;  12iey  are  allowed,  too,  to  have  a  lock  sent  in  return,  and  to  keep  it  with  their 
letters.  All  books  sent  here  by  the  prisoners'  Mends,  if  passed  by  tiie  chaplain,  the  con- 
victs  are  permitted  to  retain." 

''The  locks  of  hair  sent  out/*  adds  the  offleer,  "must  be  stitched  to  the  letters,  so  as  not 
to  oome  off  in  the  offices." 

Our  conversation,  as  we  stood  at  the  gate,  about  to  take  our  departure,  was  broken  off 
by  the  cries  of  ''You're  a  Har ! "  inm  one  of  the  females  in  the  cells  of  the  neighbouring 
wards ;  whereupon  the  amiable  young  matron,  scarcely  staying  to  wish  us  good  morning, 
hastened  bad:  to  the  prison.* 


*  Ab  TCfftTdi  the  agei,  sentsnoei^  sod  fldi]Mtio&  of  tbs  male  oonTioti  at  HilllMmk  priion,  tho  following 
antibeoffiflialzetanislbr  18M: — 


ADULTS. 

17  years  and  under  21 
21      -  „       80      . 


»f 


Total  under  SO  jeera 
30  yeazs  and  upwards 


888 
468 

836 
466 


1,291 
Senteneet. 

ForSyeeni 1 

»   *    „ 745 

n    ^     n 44 

n    ^    n 1<56 

ft    7    99           •••.•,  92 

»f    8    „          ..•#.»  27 

„    »    „ 1 

„10    „ 97 

„H 86 

»lfi    n 45 

n^     ff 8 

w**»           •••••»  2 

y,Li&             28 

1,291 

Keithar  zead  nor  write      •       ...  288 

Can  zead  only 216 

Both  ininecf eotly      t       .       •       .       •  720 

Both  well 122 

1,291 


JUYBNILBS* 

Under  12  years 

12  yean  and  under  14 


14 


n 


19 


17 


6 

22 

196 

222 


Sentencu, 

For  4  years 168 

»    5    >f 3 

»»    6    „ 26 

>»    •     » 8 

„    8    „  ,.,..,  1 

„10    „ 4 

»H    „ 2 

>i  15    » 6 

>»  21    »» 8 

„Life  1 


222 


Neither  read  nor  write      ....  68 

Can  read  only 42 

Both  impezfectly 108 

Both  well 4 


222 


274  THE  GREAT  WORLD  Of  LONDON. 

§l-b. 

'THE  CORI^ECTIONAIi  PRISONS  OF  LONDON. 

The  Correctional  Prisons  of  the  Metropolis  are  essentially  distinct  ^m  those  of  which 
we  have  lately  been  treatlag.  Their  main  points  of  difference  from  the  convict  prisons  may 
he  enumerated  as  follows  ;— 

1 .  The  Convict  Fntofu  are  for  criminals  who  have  been  sentenced  either  to  penal  servi- 

tude or  transportation. 
The  Correctional  Friions,  on  the  other  hand,  are  for  criminals  sentenced  to  short  terms 
of  imprisonment,  extending  from  seven  days  up  to  two  years. 

2.  The  Convict  Frisons  are  Gk>venunent  institutions,  under  the  management  of  Her 

Majesty's  Directors  of  Prisons,  and  supported  by  payments  out  of  the  '*  civil  list." 
The  Correctional  Prisons,  however,  are  county  institutions  under  the  management  of 
the  magistrates  of  the  shire  to  which  they  belong,  and  supported  by  payments  out 
of  the  county  rates. 

3.  At  the  Convict  Prisons,  criminals  are  put  to  labour  partly  with  the  view  of  making 

them  contribute,  more  or  less,  to  their  own  support,  and  partly  with  the  design 
of  keeping  them  occupied  at  some  industrial  pursuit* 
At  the  Correctional  Prisons,  on  the  contrary,  the  criminals  are  condemned  to  labour, 
not  with  any  view  to  profit  (either  to  themselves  morally  or  to  the  state  pecu- 
niarily), but  simply  as  a  punishment;  and  for  this  purpose  such  prisons  are 
generally  fitted  with  an  apparatus  designed  to  carry  put  the  sentence  of  hard 
labour  by  rendering  the  work  as  irksome  as  possible, 

The  history  of  these  houses  of  correction  explains  to  us  the  reason  why  such  institutionB 
were  originally  made  places  of  hard  labour.  * 

**  Houses  of  correction,"  says  an  eminent  legal  au^^oiity,  ''  were  first  established,  as  it 
would  seem,  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and  were  originally  designed  fi>r  Hie  penal  confine- 
ment, after  conviction,  of  paupers  refimng  to  work,  and  other  persons  falling  under  the  legal 
description  of  vagrant." — Stephens^  Blackstone^  vol.  iii.,  p.  209. 

The  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  appointed  in  the  yeai:  1597  to  determine  the 
best  nleand  of  decreasing  the  mendicancy  and  vagabondage  so  prevalent  at  that  period,  and 
which  committee  was  composed  of  Sir  Erancis  Bacon  and  th^  mo^t  envinent  legislators  of  the 
time,  came  to  the  conclusion  that,  while  it  was  necessary  to  provide  means  for  relieving  the 
deserving  poor,  it  was  also  requisite  to  institute  measures  for  the  punishment  of  the  idle  and 
dissolute.  They  therefore  prepared  the  statute  39  £Iiz.  c.  3,  which,  for  the  first  time^ 
oi^;anized  the  machinery  for  "the  relief  of  the  poor  in  this  country  by  recommending  steps  to 
be  taken  for  encouraging  the'  building  of  ''  hospitals  or  abiding  and  working  houses''  for  the 
indigent ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  introduced  an  enactment  for  the  suppression  of  fraudulent 
vagrancy  by  establishing  houses  of  correction^  fitted  with  stocks  and  materials  for  the 
compulsory  employment  of  such  as  objected  to  work ;  so  that,  while  granting  assistance  to 
the  industrious,  they  enacted,  as  we  are  told,  severe  penalties  against  the  idle. 

Houses  of  Correction,  thcarefore.  Were  originally  founded  to  carry  out  a  discipline  that  the 
legislators  of  the  period  believed  would  correct  the  indisposition  to  labour  on  the  part  of 
rogues  and  vagabonds.  They  were,  in  fact,  designed  as  pienal' institutions,  in  which  like 
sturdy  beggar's  aversion  to  work  was  to  be  taken  advantage  of,  and  the  very  toil  that  he  was 
endeavouring  to  *  fly  from  to  be  used  as  the  means  of  severe  punishment  to  him.  But 
though  the  committee  which  originated  these  measures  contained  soihe  of  the  most  eminent 
statesmen  of  the  time,  it  surely  does  not  require  much  sagacity  now-ii-days  to  perceive  that 
the  principle  upon  which  it'acted  was  about  as  irrational  as  if  ft  parent,  *as  we  have  before 
.said,  with  the  view  of  curing  his  child's  avenpion.  to  medicine,  were  to  inflict  upon  it  a  six 


C0RBECT50NAL  PEISOKS.  275 

months'  oomse  of  jalap.  Sncli  a  mode  of  treatment)  it  is  manifest,  so  to  from  correcting  an 
antipathy,  could  only  serve  to  strengthen  it;  and  even  so  the  rogue,  hating  labour,  can  haxdly 
be  made  to  like  it  by  having  it  rendered  more  than  ordinarily  repulsive  to  him. 

Yet  such  was  the  reasoning  that  emanated  from  the  wisdom  of  our  ancestors. 

**  Well,  I  always  thought  labouring  for  one's  living  was  deuced  unpleasant!*'  exclaims 
the  confirmed  rogue  to  himself,  on  leaving  the  House  of  Correction,  ''and  now,  after  the 
dose  I've  just  had,  I'm  cotmneed  of  it.  Oatch  me  ever  doing  a  stroke  of  work  again,  if  I 
can  help  it!" 

One  would  almost  tmey  that  the  common  sense  of  the  ooimtry  would  long  ago  have  seen 
that,  instead  of  such  institutions  serving  to  correct  an  indisposition  to  labour,  they  really  and 
tmly  did  tibieir  best  to  foster  and  confirm  it.  But,  no !  to  the  present  century  belongs  rather 
the  high  philosophic  honour  of  having  contrived  an  apparatus  like  the  tread-wheel,  which 
combines  the  double  moral  absurdity  of  rendering  prison  labour  not  only  more  than  usually 
irksome,  but  also  more  than  usually  profitlesst  If  our  fore&thers  were  foolish  enough 
to  expect  to  cure  idleness  by  rendering  work  a  punishment  (instead  of  endeavouring  by 
industrial  training  to  make  it  a  pleasure),  it  remained  for  the  sages  of  our  own  time  to 
seek  to  impress  lazy  men  with  a  sense  of  the  beauty  and  value  of  industry,  by  the 
invention  of  an  instrument  which  is  especially  adapted  to  render  labour  inordinately 
repulsive,  by  making  it  inordinately  useless 

"  I  am  a  man  who  don't  like  work,"  candidly  said  an  habitual  vagabond  to  the  late 
governor  of  Coldbath  Fields  prison ;  "  and,  what's  more  (with  an  oath)^  I  will  not  work 
except  when  I'm  in  prison,  and  then  I  can't  help  it !" 

The  correctional  prisons  of  the  metropolis  are  four  in  number--*two  belonging  to  the 
county  of  Middlesex,  one  to  Surrey,  and  another  to  the  City  of  London,  vijs.  ;-^ 

I.    Mn>l>£E8BX  HOTTSES  OF  CoaBECXION 

1.  Coldbath  Pields  Prison  (for  adult  males.) 

2.  Tothill  Pields  Prison  (for  females  and  juvenile  offenders), 

U,  Cett  Hoitsb  of  CoBSECTIOir — 

HoUoway  Prison  (for  all  classes  of  offenders). 

JLLL.  Subbst  House  of  Cosbection — 

Wandsworth  Prison  (for  all  classes). 

As  regards  the  number  of  prisoners  passing  through  these  institutions  in  the  course  of 
the  year,  they  would  appear  to  amount  to  no  less  than  21,860  odd  individuals,  and  to  yield 
an  average  daily  congregation  of  about  3,000,  while  their  gross  expense  to  the  householders 
of  the  neighbouring  counties  is  upwards  of  £60,000  per  annum. 

The  classes  of  prisoners  confined  within  these  establishments  differ,  in  many  respects,  from 
those  found  at  the  London  convict  prisons.  At  the  latter  institutions  we  meet  with  two 
difltinct  kinds  of  offenders,  viz.,  the  long-sentence  men,  who,  in  most  instances,  were  once 
reputable  people,  and  are  suffering  for  their  first  offence ;  and  the  habitual  criminal,  who, 
after  having  gone  the  round  of  the  correctional  prisons  for  a  series  of  petty  larcenies,  has  at 
length  been  condemned  either  to  seven  years'  transportation,  or  the  more  modem  four  years^ 
penal  servitude. 

In  the  correctional  prisons,  however,  there  are  three  distinct  kinds  of  offenders.  (1.) 
Felons,  ».«.,  those  who  have  been  convicted  of  some  offence  to  which  i^  attached  the  for- 
feiture of  ledl  property  belonging  to  the  offender.  (2.)  Misdemeanants,  or  those  imprisoned 
for  offenses  of  a  lower  degree  than  felony.  (3.)  Yagrants,  or  those  who  have  been  committed 
eiUier  as  rogues  and  vagabonds  or  reputed  thieves. 

Each  of  these  classes  will  afford  peculiar  examples — ^ranging  from  the  more  desperate 
housefareaker  to  the  cunning  ''  magsinan,"  and  even  down  to  the  abject  **  shallow  cove." 


376 


THS  OBEIT  WOaid)  or  I.OHBOK. 


"  I  have  BOTCir  be^  able  to  con^reheBd,"  says  Kr.  Clie«terton,  the  late  gerenuv  of 
Coldbath  Fielda,  while  treatuig  of  Uie  peooliaritieB  of  TograBto  ia  lus  vork  upoa  "  Priaon 
Xife,"  "the  preference  givok  by  hale,  ftbla-bo^ed  men,  who,  lather  tiuui  face  oreditable 
indtutry,  will  stand  ehiTeiuig  in  the  oold,  with  ga^awia  barely  niftoi^nt  to  oloak  their 
mtkedneai — ^parposely  pent  and  tatterad — in  order  to  ^nvoka  a  aftagaXby  Wt  nir^y  excited. 
Their  vocation  entaik  upon  thevi  fiodLeos  iB^sirament^  aod  Ota  entve  life  aj^tean  to  me 
to  be  one  of  bo  ntnob  priTalion  «id  diaeom&rt^  that  it  ia  narveUoqa  how  tyiy  Tational  being 
can  voluntarily  embrace  it. 

"The  damps  or  abiquitary  wanderen,"  adda  the  late  gonsaer,  "diqdi^  a  taate  £ir 
mpeiioT  to  that  of  the  London  'oardgera.'" 

One  such  tranqt  aaanred  Mr.  Otaaterton,  that  the  life  hs  led  wsdtei  Imni  ha  atgc^ed 
the  country,  he  aaid,  realized  a  pleonng  variety,  and  managed,  in  one  way  at  aaoQur,  ta 
get  his  wanta  adequately  Bupplied. 

Finally,  the  localities  of  the  various  hooaea  of  eonectioiit  aa  well  aa  the  distribntion  of 
Uie  other  kinda  of  prisona  throughout  tlie  UetropoiUs,  will  be  beat  ej^lained  by  tiie  fc^wing 
map:— 


HAP  ILLVBTBATIVE  CV  IBS  LOCAUTV  OF  TBE  SEVE&AI.  PQISOHS  OF  TOE  USTBOPOUS. 


Ij  e»T(  pBHOin. 


o 


A 


XmiSi'SSr). 


HOTTSE  OF  COEHEOnON,  COIDBA.TH  FIELDS. 


B  aotSE  OF  OOBRECnON,  COLDBATH  HELDB. 


TSZ  XmSLESSX.  SOVSB  OF  COBBSCTIoy,  C0LS3ATE  FIELDS, 

(FOB  ADULT  HALE  0F7BNDBB8). 

0&  a  dnll  sommer's  morning,  vben  the  sky  was  lead-coloured  with  an  impending  Btorm, 
and  the  air  was  hot  as  tlLongh  the  thiok  roof  of  cloads  impeded  the  ventilation  of  iba  Citf , 
we  left  OUT  home  to  make  oar  visit  to  this  piistm.  A  slight  shower  had  fWen,  spotting  the 
pavement  with  large,  ronnd  drops. 

The  cooks  shut  np  in  the  ceUais  <^  the  greengrocers'  and  barbers'  shops,  situated  in  the 
■treeta  throogh  wbicb  we  passed,  were  crowing  as  if  the  light  tliat  shone  down  the  iron 
gratingB  into  the  dusty  area  beneatii  had  aroused  them,  and  Qiey  were  screeching  to  be 
released  from  their  confinement.  Over  a  seedman'a  shop  a  lark,  wbose  cage  faced  the  east, 
was  welcoming  the  streak  of  early  dawn  with  jerks  of  melody,  whilst  ^e  little  creatnre 
stood  fluttering  on  the  small  piece  of  turf  placed  in  the  bow  of  its  cage.  At  one  of  the 
che^  hair-dreasers,  too,  where  a  long  pole  stretohed  above  the  pathway  like  a  bowsprit, 
we  coold  hear  the  almost  screaming  din  of  birds,  all  singing  at  the  eame  time — the  sound 
seeming  to  pour  out  from  the  round  holes  in  the  shutter  tops  in  positive  gusts  of  noise, 

The  whole  Uetropolis  was  as  yet  asleep. 

The  doll  morning  appeared  to  have  made  the  inhabitants  stop  in  their  beds  longer  than 
nsual ;  for,  ae  ve  gazed  down  the  now  clear  perspective  of  the  different  streets,  we  could 
Ko  but  few  persons  about.  The  only  chimneys  that  were  sending  out  their  smoke  were 
thon  at  the  bakers,  but  even  here  the  curling  streams  of  soot  were  gradually  i^iTnininhing 
in  blackness,  as  though  the  night's  work  was  over  and  the  fires  dying  out.  As  we  harried 
along,  &a  town  put  on  a  difCer^t  aspect  in  the  bright,  early  light;  the  trees  of  the  squarea 


278  THE  GREAT  WOBIiD  OF  LONDON. 

and  gardens,  and  flowers  in  the  balconies,  as  well  as  fhe  countless  windows,  sparkled  again, 
as  the  black  clouds  changed  into  white  ones,  edged  with  the  many  tints  of  the  morning's 
sun,  the  panes  at  length  being  lighted  up  by  the  golden  beams,  tiU  they  shone  like  plates 
of  burnished  metal. 

As  we  gazed  around,  a  newspaper  express  cart  dashed  past,  taking  the  direction  of  the 
Euston  Square  Railway.  Policemen,  with  their  capes  rolled  up  like  black  quivers  under 
their  arms,  were  making  their  way  to  the  different  police  stations.  On  one  of  the  door> 
steps  in  Gower  Street  was  seated  a  milk-maid,  with  the  bright  drum-shaped  cans  before 
her,  waiting  until  the  servant-maid  rose  to  take  in  the  customary  ''  ha'porth." 

Then  the  butchers'  carts  came  rattling  past,  the  wheels  trembling  as  they  spun  over  the 
stones;  and  the  horse,  with  freshly-greased  hoofs,  going  at  a  pace  which,  as  the  animal 
turned  the  comer,  threw  the  vehicle  round  sideways,  and  almost  jerked  the  driver  from  one 
end  of  the  seat  to  the  other. 

Near  to  the  Foundling  we  noted,  down  the  stable-yards,  a  quantity  of  Hansom  cabs 
ranged  in  rows,  and  stiU  dirty  with  the  night's  work ;  and  then,  a  few  paces  after  crossing 
the  Gray's  Inn  Road,  we  caught  sight  of  the  duU  brick  wall  that  encircles  the  House  of 
Correction,  and  in  a  niinute  or  two  more  had  reached  our  destination. 

As  few  persons  in  easy  worldly  circumstances  care  to  reside  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a 
prison,  it  may  account  for  the  dingy  and  distressed  appearance  of  the  buildings  that  surround 
the  jail  in  Coldbath  Fields.  The  red  brick  dwellings  facing  the  main  entrance  have  all 
the  appearance  of  having  been  at  one  time  ''capital  town  mansions,"  but  the  daily  sight 
of  the  prison  van  driving  up,  and  the  dreary  look-out  from  the  frt)nt  windows  upon  the 
tall  boundary  wall  and  heavily-spiked  roofs,  has  degraded  the  dwellings  down  to  the  rank 
of  old  furniture  stores,  or  lodging-houses  for  single  men,  who  care  not  where  they  obtain 
house-shelter  provided  the  rent  be  low.  Some  of  the  houses  hereabouts  are  sufficiently 
antiquated — as,  for  instance,  those  in  Baynes  Row — ^with  the  words  cut  in  quaint,  long 
spider  letters,  in  the  red  brick  tablet  between  the  drawing-room  windows.  Again,  in  Cob- 
ham  Row,  the  heavy  white  sashes  to  the  casements,  the  curious  iron- work,  and  the  peculiar 
style  of  brick- work,  strongly  indicate  the  old-fashioned  character  of  the  buildings. 

Clerkenwell  is  notoriously  the  hardest- working  quarter  of  London ;  and  as  soon  as  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  prison  is  passed,  the  industry  begins  to  show  itself.  In  Boirington 
Street,  a  small  colony  of  brass-founders  have  established  themselves,  and  the  grocers'  canis- 
ter-makers have  also  permanently  settled  on  the  spot. 

Turning  down  Phoenix  Place,  we  see  the  yards  converted  into  saw-mills,  and  jets  of 
steam  bursting  out  from  the  midst  of  tiled  sheds ;  and  we  hear,  too,  the  grating,  hiawitig 
sound  of  the  machinery.  One  board,  over  the  door  of  a  dingy  cottage,  tells  us  that  the 
inmates  are  ''Fancy  Brush-board  Makers;"  and  on  a  closedfup  door,  the  deep-bordered 
posters  of  a  cheap  undertaker  caters  for  patronage  for  his  "  Genteel  Funerals,"  at  £1  1«. 

At  the  back,  or  northern  side  of  the  prison  waU,  lie  the  enormous  yards  of  Mr.  Cubitty 
the  contractor — some  of  them  filled  with  paving  and  flag-stones-*others  bristling  with  seaffold 
poles  and  tapering  ladders — ^and  some  again  occupied  by  sheds,  under  and  about  which  are 
rusting  cog-wheels  and  old  machinery,  or  stone  balustrades  and  pieces  of  broken  sculpture* 
Here,  too,  in  the  waste  unpaved  ground  about  the  walls,  the  boys  have  established  their 
play-ground,  and  amuse  themselves  with  pitch-in-the-hole,  tossing  for  buttons,  and  games  at 
marbles,  or  else  they  perform  their  gymnastic  exercises  on  the  thick  rails  and  posts,  placed 
across  the  broad  rude  pathway  to  obstruct  the  passage  of  cabs  and  cattle. 

Whether  the  jail  has  ruined  the  neighbourhood  or  not,  we  cannot  say,  but  the  surrounding 
locality  wears  a  degraded  look,  as  if  it  also  had  put  on  the  prison  uniform  of  dirty  gray. 

We  had  risen  so  early,  that  we  reached  our  destination  before  the  offlcial  hour  for 


HOUSE  OP  COEKBCTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  279 

opening  the  gates,  the  warders  not  being  admitted  until  half-past  six,  when  the  night  watch 
ifl  lelieyed,  and  the  business  of  the  day  begins. 

One  of  the  main  features  of  the  Coldbath  Eields  prison  is  the  tall  brick  wall,  which 
simomids  the  entire  of  the  nine  acres  upon  which  the  building  stands,  and  gives  to  the  place 
the  idea  of  a  strong  fortress.  To  the  foot-passenger,  this  high  wall  hides  out  every  view 
of  the  enclosed  buildings,  and,  but  for  a  bell  heard  now  and  then  ringing  within,  he 
might  almost  imagine  the  interior  to  be  a  burial-ground.  It  is  only  at  the  moment  of 
tuniing  the  comer  of  Fhceniz  Place,  and  entering  into  Dorrington  Street,  that  the  first 
evidence  is  obtained  of  the  spot  being  inhabited ;  for  there,  at  rapidly-recurring  intervals, 
may  be  seen  a  black  beam  darting  by,  dose  to  the  coping-stone  of  the  brick-work,  the 
mystery  of  which  none  can  fathom  but  those  who  have  visited  the  interior  of  tiie  prison, 
it  beiog  ike  wings  of  the  fan,  or  governing  machine,  which  regulates  the  rapidity  of  the 
tread-wheel. 

On  one  side  of  the  public  road,  passing  along  the  front  of  the  prison,  is  an  unoccu- 
pied piece  of  ground,  about  half  an  acre  in  extent,  which  fronts  the  remaining  portion 
of  the  wall ;  here  the  grass  has  grown  so  luxuriantly  that  it  may  almost  be  termed  a  field, 
especially  as  half  a  dozen  sheep  are  feeding,  within  the  palings,  on  the  long  herbage. 

Looldng  out  upon  this  grass-plot  may  be  seen  the  back  of  the  governor's  house,  a  narrow, 
two-storeyed  dwelling,  of  an  ancient  style  of  structure,  with  heavy  iron  gratings  before  each 
window,  which  are  closed  on  the  basement  story,  but  are  thrown  back  like  Erench  blinds  at 
the  upper  casements. 

The  huge  prison  doorway  itself  has  a  curious  Oeorge  the  Third  air  about  it,  with  its 
inactiption  of  black  letters  cut  into  the  painted  stone,  telling  one  that  it  is 

Thx  HOUSE  OP 
COEKECTION 

POB  XHB 

COUNTY  OF  lOBDIESEX 

1794 

—the  writing  being  similar  to  that  which  is  seen  in  old  books,  and  by  no  means  comparable 
to  the  well-shaped  characters  on  the  sign-boards  at  the  neighbouring  public-house.  A  pair  of 
gigantic  knockers,  large  as  pantomime  masks,  hang  low  down  on  the  dark-green  panels  of  the 
aiding  gates,  and  under  them  are  the  letter-box  and  the  iron-grated  wicket,  not  larger  than  a 
gridiron ;  whilst,  arranged  in  tassels  at  the  top  of  each  side  pillar,  are  enormous  black  fetters, 
log  enough  to  frighten  any  mnfui  passer-by  back  into  the  paths  of  rectitude.  A  eh&paux 
defriie,  like  some  giant  hundred-bladed  penknife,  is  placed  on  either  side  of  the  doorway, 
where  it  towers  above  the  wall,  and  within  reading  height  are  placed  black  boards,  with 
notices  painted  white  upon  them.  Erom  these  we  leam  where  ^*  InfarmaHon  respecting 
the  Terms  of  J^nprisonment,  and  the  Fines  to  he  paid,  may  he  ohtainsd,"  and  are  also  told  that 
'*  No  provisions,  Nothing,  or  other  arOdesfor  the  use  of  the  prisoners,'^  wiU  be  permitted  to  pass 
the  gates ;  whilst,  in  another  place,  the  regulations  respecting  the  visits  to  the  prisoners  are 
exposed  to  view.  The  county  of  Middlesex,  as  if  to  show  its  right  of  ownership,  has  also 
placed  its  crest  immediately  above  the  green-painted  doors,  and  the  three  sabres  hang 
threateningly  over  the  heads  of  all  who  enter.  This  and  the  large  gas-lamp  jutting  out  fh)m 
the  wall  form  the  only  ornaments  to  this  peculiarly  quaint  old  prison-entrance.  ^8ee 
Engraving,  p.  277.) 

Before  conducting  the  reader  within  the  walls  of  the  prison,  let  us  set  forth,  as  briefly  as 
possihle,  the  **  antecedents,''  as  well  as  the  character  of  the  building. 

20^ 


280  THE  OEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


The  HUtory  and  OonstrwUcn  of  the  Priion. 

The  term  Goldbath  Fields,  which  now  standB  for  a  portion  of  the  district  lying  between 
GlerkenweU  and  Pentonville,  ia  said  to  have  been  derived  from  a  celebrated  weU  of  water 
that  was  formerly  situate  in  the  fields  hereabonts,  but  which  is  now  covered  over,  the  site 
being  at  present  occupied  by  the  tread-wheel  of  the  prison. 

The  original  House  of  Correction,  Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon  tells  us,  was  built  in  the  reign 
of  the  first  James.  *^  The  increase  of  vagabondage,"  he  says,  ''had  become  so  great  about 
that  time,  that  the  City  BrideweU  no  longer  served  to  contain  tiie  number  of  offenders ;  the 
judges  therefore  built  this  prison,  the  City  autiiorities  giving  £500  towards  it^  for  keeping 
their  poor  employed." 

The  oldest  portion,  however,  of  the  present  prison  (which  stands  between  the  Churoh  of 
8t.  James's,  Clerkenwell,  and  the  Oray's  Inn  Bead)  dates  only  from  the  end  of  the  last 
century. 

''The  House  of  Correction,  at  Coldbath  Fields,"  says  Mr.  Chesterton,  the  late  governor 
of  the  prison,  in  his  entertaining  new  work,  entitied  "Eevelatzons  of  Pbiboit  Life," 
"  was  erected  in  the  year  1794.  Its  site  at  that  epoch  well  entitied  it  to  the  third  term 
in  its  designation,  which  it  has  ever  since  retained ;  but  the  magistrates  of  that  day  missed 
an  opportunity  of  purchasing  and  enclosing,  at  a  compcuratively  small  cost,  a  much  larger 
tract  of  land ;  so  that  the  prison  is  now  overlooked  from  buildings  abutting  upon  it— an 
inconvenience  which  might  have  been  obviated  by  timely  foresight." 

The  prison  covers  a  space  of  nine  acres,  and  "  the  ground,"  Mr.  Chesterton  infimna  us, 
"  which  was  purchased  for  the  purpose  by  the  county  magistrates,  cost  £4,350.  The 
original  building  was  constructed  at  an  outlay  of  £65,656.  Comformably  with  the  notions 
of  that  period,  the  building  was  massive,  overloaded  witii  ponderous  iron  gates,  window- 
frames,  and  fastenings;  while  narrow  entrances  and  passages  were  designed  to  render  a 
sudden  outburst  of  prisoners  impracticable. 

"  Certain  it  is,"  adds  the  late  governor,  "  that  the  large  outlay  of  £65,656,  at  that 
distant  period,  merely  to  produce  a  structure  containing  232  cells,  the  precise  number 
erected,  does  appear  to  be  a  prodigal  expenditure,  and  quite  disproportionedto  the  aooommo- 
dation  secured."* 

Large  additions,  however,  have  been  made  from  time  to  time,  since  the  date  of  its 
original  construction.  In  the  year  1832,  tiie  imlooked-for  increase  of  numbers  had,  in  the 
words  of  the  late  governor,  "  necessitated  a  corresponding  extension  of  the  buildings,  and 
soon  after  the  completion  (in  1830)  of  a  'vagrants'  ward,'  calculated  to  accommodate  150 
prisoners,  there  was  added  a  'female  ward'  (now  the  misdemeanants'  prison),  designed  to 
contain  300.  These  buildings  were  erected  on  a  radiating  system,  but  they  were  designed 
ere  the  new  lights  on  prison  structure,  derived  from  the  United  States  of  America,  had 
penetrated  into  this  kingdom.  Consequentiy  our  new  buildings  were  very  defective,  and 
much  expense  was  subsequentiy  incurred  to  amend  and  enlarge  them." 

There  are  at  present  two  houses  of  correctioti  for  the  county  of  Middlesex— one  at  Cold- 
bath  Fields,  which  is  devoted  to  the  reception  of  such  aduU  male  prisoners  as  have  not  been 
sentenced  to  transportation  or  penal  servitude ;  and  the  other  at  Tothill  Fields,  appropriated 
to  the/tffftofc  and/MV0m%  portion  of  the  same  class. 

•  PentonvilU  prison,  built  in  1840-42,  and  fitted  with  130  oellfl^  oost  £85,000.  Brixton  prison,  \mSLt 
in  1819-20,  and  fitted  with  161  oeIl«,  coat  (indnding  the  purohaae  of  the  land)  £51,780;  and  HOlbaiik 
priaon,  built  in  1812,,and  fitted  with  560  oella,  oost  £500,000,  ezdusive  of  land. 


HOUSE  OF  COEBECTION,  COLDBATH  FttXDS. 


281 


Coldbatih  Fields  prison  has  now  proper  accommodation  for  about  1,450  prisoners*  (919 
in  separate  cells,  and  534  in  cells  capable  of  containing  more  than  one  prisoner),  thongh 
many  more  are  sometimes  thrust  into  it,  causing  greait  concision  of  system.  The  daily 
arerage  number  of  prisoners  throughout  the  year  1854-55  was  1,388.  Mr.  Chesterton 
tells  us  that  "  the  prison  of  Coldbath  Fields  is  one  of  such  surpassing  magnitude  as  to 
hATe  numbered  within  its  walls,  during  the  year  1854,  at  one  time,  no  less  than  1,495 
inmates."! 

The  prison  is  in  the  jurisdiction  of  fourteen  magistrates,  appointed  at  each  Quarter 
Sessions,  of  whom  four  go  out  quarterly  by  rotation. 

The  official  staff  for  the  management  of  Coldbath  Fields  House  of  Correction  consists  of 
the  govemory  2  chaplains,  1  surgeon,  1  chief  warder,  34  warders,  66  sub- warders,  4  clerks, 
1  engmeer,  and  1  store-keeper;  in  all,  112  officers.  Hence,  as  there  are  altogether  100 
warders,  and  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  throughout  the  year  1854  amounted 

*  The  following  return  as  to  the  accommodation  afibtded  has  been  kindly  supplied  us  by  the  present 
gOTBnwr  :— 

RnXmB  07  BBnTBS  AKD  CBIXS  OOlTTAINnD  DT  OOLDBATS  TinLDB  PniSON : — 


ozj>  puaov. 


Tards. 

Fint  and  second  . 

Third  and  fourth  . 

Fifth  and  lixth  .  . 
Serenth  and  eighth 

Lower  gallery    .  . 

Upper  gaUery    .  . 

Bofraetory    .     .  . 


DomiitoriM.- 

99 

101 

99 

98 


GelU- 

66 
71 
76 
72 
29 
29 
14 


897        357 


Cells  and  Berths    .    .    754 


xisoaifBAjrovK  pkuon. 
Yards.  Oella. 

First 87 

Second 96 

Third 100 

Fourth 96 

Befractory 7 

886 


Old  Prison 

Misdemeanour  Prison 
Vagrant  Prison 

Berths  in  the  Bonnitories 


TA«mAinr  rusox. 

Yards. 

First  and  second  .    .     . 

Third  and  fourth  .    .    . 

Beficactory 


Cells. 
88 
87 
2 

T77 


357 
886 

177 

920 
397 

1,817 


t  mnoBu  or  xalb  pnisoKCns  ooNTiinsD  nr  thb  eotjsb  op  coBszcnoK,  coldbath  fibiiDS,  in  thb 

COUBSB  07  THB  TBAB  1854. 


1. 


Piiaaueii  for  trial .  — 
OoBTieted  at  asslaes  and 

MMiaiis  .  874 

Owrieii  uder  contract 

Mth  Gorenunent      •  — 

Somiaarj  coBTlctimis   •  568 

Farrs>cxBaiiiiiatftni      •  — 

1,437 


2. 

SaeebMi  under  eommttrnmiM^ 

and  who  Aom  not  horn  in 
euttotfy  toother  Oowmon. 

Prisoners  for  trial .       .    — 
Prisoners  transferred  to 

otber  Goremors  tn 

trial    •       •       •       .    — 
Bendersd  in  court  for 

trial    .       •       .       .    _ 
Snmmary  conrietlons   .  6,12S 
Ditto    transferred     to 

other  GoTcmors  '— 


8. 

Seeehed  from  tho  euttodff  of 

other  Oo9emor»,and 
emtmeratod  in  their  retrnma, 

Priioners  for  trial .       .    — 
OonTioted  at  asslxes  and 

■eesions  .       .1,690 

OmTiots  under  contract 

with  Goyemment      •    ~ 
Snnunary  courictioos   .    — 

7^748 


Chsrgea,  i.«.,  priaoner$  com- 
mitted  to  the  prieon  far  w- 
anUnaiion,  hut  qftenoarde 
ditcharged^  not  Mng  fuUjf 
eommitttd. 


TdCalinthc 
Qreitsiti 
The  dally 


e,i2s 

of  the  year .         •          •  9,180 

of  Prisoners  at  any  one  time  in  the  conrae  of  the  year*  .....  1,495 

BumherofPiteMisnthroaghoattheyear •  1,888 


282  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

to  1,366,  we  find  that  there  is  one  booIi  officer  to  abont  OTory  13  pereons  confined  wiiiim 
the  walls.* 

The  discipline  enforced  at  this  prison  is  that  which  is  termed  the  '^silent  associated  system," 
the  prisoners  working  in  bodies  by  day,  and  being  forbidden  to  hold  any  communication  with 
each  other,  either  by  word  or  gesture ;  whilst  many  of  them-Hsome  920 — sleep  in  separate 
cells  at  night.  **  K  the  system  on  which  the  prison  ib  ostensibly  condncted,"  says  an  anthor 
before  quoted,  ''were  rigorously  carried  out,  all  the  prisoners  would  be  separated  at  night; 
but  the  number  of  separate  cells  is  insufficient.  The  surplus  is,  therefore,  to  be  provided  for 
in  general  dormitories,  in  which  officers  are  obliged  to  remain  all  night,  to  prevent  inter- 
course or  disorder." 

Coldbath  Fields  is  one  of  those  prisons  at  which  labour  is  used  as  a  punuhm&nt,  rather 
than  a  means  of  industrial  training  or  of  self-support  among  the  prisoners  themselves — ^the 
criminals  sent  here  being  often  condemned  to  ''  hard  labour,"  in  addition  to  a  certain  term 
of  imprisonment.  These  hard-labour  sentences  are  worked  out  either  upon  the  tread-wheel, 
or  else  in  picking  oakum  or  coir,  unless  the  services  of  the  prisoner  be  required  for  some 
work  in  connection  with  the  jail.  For  Ihe  due  canning  out  of  the  hard-labour  sentence, 
there  are  at  Coldbath  Fields  no  less  than  six  distinct  tread- wheel  3rards,  and  two  of  tiiese 
have  each  four  separate  wheels  working  on  one  long  axis,  whilst  the  four  remaining  yards 
have  each  three  wheels  fixed  upon  one  axle. 

This  prison  bears  the  reputation  of  being  one  of  the  most  salubrious  in  all  London. 
**  The  ample  space,  the  fiill  supply  of  light  and  air  afforded  to  the  prisoners,  as  well  as  the 
general  system  of  the  prison,"  says  Mr.  Dixon,  '*  causes  Coldbath  Fields  to  be  one  of  the 
healthiest  places  of  confinement  in  the  Metropolis.  Though  it  has  an  average  of  from  1,200 
to  1,400  occupants  the  year  roundj^  more  than  three  or  four  persons  are  seldom  found  in  Ihe 
infirmary  at  once — a  state  of  the  health-calendar  very  different  from  that  of  Newgate  or 
Millbank,  or  even  that  of  Pentonville." 

Indeed  it  will  be  seen,  by  the  returns  before  given  (p.  239),  that  Coldbath  Fields  is  not 
only  considerably  healthier  than  either  Millbank  or  Pentonville,  but  the  proportion  of  sick 
(22*3  per  cent.)  to  the  gross  number  of  prisoners  confined  within  it  throughout  the  year  is 
even  1  per  cent,  lower  than  that  of  Brixton.f 

"  The  House  of  Correction  at  Coldbath  Fields,"  says  the  author  of  "London  Prisons," 
«  has  the  thorough  aspect  of  the  old  English  jail." 

The  prison  is  surrounded  by  a  high  wall,  varying  from  eighteen  to  twenty-three  fyety 
and  the  prison  buildings  are  in  three  distinct  divisions : — 

1.  The  principal,  or  old  building,  erected  in  1794. 

2.  The  new  vagrants'  ward,  completed  in  1830. 

3.  The  female  prison,  now  "  the  misdemeanants'  ward,"  completed  in  1832. 

The  old  or  ''main"  prison  stands  at  a  little  distance  behind  the  principal  entrance,  and 
is  of  a  quadrangular  form  (with  two  wings  attached),  divided  by  a  central  passage,  which  is 
intersected  at  right  angles  by  the  various  "  yards" — ^four  on  either  side  of  the  passage,  and 

•  At  Pentonville  there  are  SO  warders  to  a  dafly  average  of  619  prisonere,  which  ia  in  proportion  of  1 
officer  to  about  every  17  inmates  of  the  jail.  At  Millbank,  on  the  other  hand,  there  are  101  warden  to 
a  daily  average  of  702  male  prisoners,  which  is  almost  at  the  rate  of  1  officer  to  every  7  men. 

t  In  the  course  of  the  year  1854-55  there  were  at  Coldbath  Fields  altogether  131  infirmary  caset^  aod 
1,916  cases  of  slight  indisposition,  making  altogether  2,047  cases  of  sickness  in  the  course  of  that  year :  and 
as  the  gross  number  of  prisoners  confined  within  the  Jail  during  the  same  year  amounted  to  9,180,  this  gives 
a  proportion  of  22*3  cases  of  sickness  to  every  one  hundred  prisoners.  The  per  eentage  of  pardons  on  medioal 
grounds  to  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  at  the  same  prison  was  1*0,  whilst  the  per  oentnge  of 
deaths  to  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  was  1*8,  which,  it  will  be  seen  by  reference  to  the  preTioos 
table  (see  p.  289),  is  still  considerably  lower  than  at  either  the  Hnlki  or  Millbank,  but,  on  the  other  band, 
higher  than  either  Pentonyille  or  Brixton. 


HOTJSE  OF  COBEECTION,  COLBBATH  FIELDS. 


283 


each  hafing  the  ceils  ranged  along  one  side,  and  wi&  the  tread-wheels,  in  some  eflSdA,  &cing 
flieoBi. 

The  Tagrants'  ward  is  on  the  left  of  the  main  entrance,  and  consists  of  five  radiating 
wings,  ]yrooeeding  from  a  semi-circular  bnilding,  npon  the  half-wheel  principle ;  and  these 
five  wings,  with  the  four  intermediate  airing  conrts,  constitute  four  ''yards"  or  divisions. 


0R0UND.PLAN  OP  COLDBATR  FIELDS  PEISGK. 
(Referenoes  to  the  Letters  and  Namben  in  the  EngraTing.) 


A. 

B. 

C  Oaca 

IX 


F. 
O. 

H. 
J. 


Omtt. 


Ho«M. 


Shop. 
Mill  and  Bbe4. 


Gaca  Wardar't  Lod;e 


X.  Cashier's  <MBc«. 

L.  W«f4er*t  Lodge  and 
Bed-room. 

K.  Coach-bouse  aad  Ru- 
ble. 

V.  ChaplalBii  Clerkii 


or.  •nb-'Warder^  Rooms. 
P.  BBginaer's  Stores. 


Q.  Plamber*s  Miop. 
U.  Oorernor's  Bepoii 

Oflcesi 
8.  Mat  Kooia. 
T.  Sebool  Boom. 
tr.  Oakum  Room. 
T.  Cookl  Hoose  ft  Larder. 
W.  Bcceptioa  Boom  aad 

Yard. 


X.  Clothing  Boom. 
T.  Score  Rooms. 
Z.  Laendrj. 

1.  0«rdeiier*s  Boom. 

S.  Lomp-*-"*- 

S.  Vtalt 

«.  Trsad-wheels. 

t.  Drad- boose. 

C  Lime  Shed. 


nprnan's  Room. 
Itbur  Places. 


7.  RefraekoT  Oeile. 

6.  Slate  M'aiUag-boxee. 

9.  Water  Closets. 

10.  Van  8beds. 

11.  Coal  Shed. 
U.  Wuod  Shed, 
la.  Dresser  ((bed. 
14.  Oaknm  Rbed. 

U.  Deat  ft  Babblsh  Heap. 


Hie  misdemeanants*  ward,  formerly  appropriated  to  the  female  prisoners,  stands  at  a  little 
distanoe  from  the  north-eastern  oomer  of  the  old  prison,  and  constitutes  a  distinct  huilding, 
bat  does  not  differ  much  in  its  plan  from  the  vagrants'  ward. 

There  are  two  chapels,  one  for  males  and  the  other  formerly  &r  females,  in  which  there 
is  service  every  morning. 


284  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

The  mam  or  old  prison  is  principally  devoted  to  the  reception  of  felons,  whiM  the 
yagrant  ward  is  set  aside  for  those  committed  as  rogues  or  vagabonds,  including  reputed 
thieves;  and  that  which  was  formerly  the  female  ward  is  now  appropriated  to  persons  convicted 
of  misdemeanours.  At  the  date  (18th  October,  1855,)  of  the  last  report  of  the  visiting  justices^ 
the  gross  number  in  custody  was  1,325  adult  males ;  and  these  were  composed  of  the  following 
classes  in  the  following  proportion,  viz. : — * 

Nomber.       Per  Cent. 

Felons 697  =    62-6 

Misdemeanants 496  =>    875 

Vagrants 132  =      9*9 

Total    .     1,325  =  1000 

In  the  same  report  the  prison  is  said  to  be  capable  of  containing  919  prisoners  in 
separate  sleeping  cells,  and  534  where  more  than  one  prisoner  sleeps  in  one  cell.  Booms 
and  workshops,  not  intended  as  sleeping  apartments  for  prisonersi  are  nsed,  we  are  told,  as 
dormitories  when  a  greater  extent  of  accommodation  is  required.* 

\*  Hktory  of  the  DueipUne  of  CoUbath  Fields  Prison. — From  the  history,  oonstmctiony 
and  present  capacity  of  the  building  itself,  we  pass  to  the  history  of  that  system  of  manage- 
ment which  preceded  and  led  to  the  one  at  present  in  force. 

It  has  been  our  object  to  chronicle  the  origin  of  the  discipline  pursued  at  the  various  penal 
institutions  of  which  we  have  already  treated.  We  have  traced  the  commencement  and  modi- 
fications of  the  separate  system,  as  carried  out  at  Pentonville  Prison — ^we  have  given  a  brief 
account  of  the  establishment  of  the  Female  Convict  Prison  at  Brixton — ^we  have  endeavoured 
to  impress  the  reader  with  a  sense  of  the  utter  want  of  system,  and  indeed  decency,  in  the 
management  of  the  Hulks  in  former  times,  as  well  as  to  give  him  a  notion  of  the  defective 
arrangements  at  present  existing  in  those  places — ^we  have  sought,  moreover,  to  show  him  how 
Bentham's  crude  scheme  for  a  Panopticon  merged  into  the  old  Penitentiary,  where  criminals 
were  trained  in  hypocrisy,  and  the  warders  were  converted  into  ''  Scriptmre  readers,''  while 
the  governor  himself  was  a  gentleman  in  orders — ^as  well  as  how  this  same  penitential  system 
was  ultimately  converted  into  the  present ''  mixed  system"  of  penal  discipline ;  and  now  we 
proceed,  in  due  order,  to  explain  how  the  promiscuous  association  of  the  prisoners  at  Coldbath 
Fields,  as  well  as  the  iniquities  practised  by  the  warders  l^ere,  and  even  the  governors  them- 
selves, at  length  gave  way  to  the  more  righteous  sentiments  of  the  age,  and  finally  settled  into 
*'  the  silent  associated  system,"  of  which  that  prison  is  not  only  now  regarded  as  the  type, 
but  the  metropolitan  originator. 

Luckily  for  the  proper  execution  of  this  portion  of  our  task,  we  have  the  best  possible 
materials  supplied  us  in  the  recently-published  '' Bevelations  of  Prison  life,"  by  Mr. 
Chesterton,  the  late  governor  of  the  jail  in  question,  and  the  gentleman  to  whom  the  public. 


*0BinaukL  ' 

V7BBXLT  BSPOBT,  ROX  nUDAT,  20TH 

fxnxMf 

1S66. 

Priflonen. 

PriBonen. 

PrisoDcrs* 

Number  in   ctutody    last 

Infirmary  Patients    . 

. 

2 

Foreigners  in  piisoni  yis. : 

W60lC      .           *           .           •  LfOVO 

Conyalescent  Patients 

• 

2» 

Oermans 

8 

Number  of  Irish  in  prison 

100 

Poles    . 

1 

Knmber     unlocked     this 

Foreigners  in  prison  . 

38 

Portugueee  . 

2 

moming        .        •        .  1,375 

vis:  Americans    . 

2 

Spaniards 

3 

Swedes. 

2 

Italians 

7 

Admitted  during  the  week .    134 

Danes  . 

— 

Greeks 

— 

Dischaifed  during  the  week    152 

Eussians       • 

1 

Mussulmans 

,      — 

Died  during  the  same  week     — 

Dutch  . 

5 

Africans       • 

1 

Inerease   •        •        •        •      —> 

Belgians 

1 

Hindoos 

— 

Beorease  •       •       .       •      18 

Frendh 

4 

1 

HOUSE  OP  OOEBECnOK,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.         'I&6 

as  veil  as  the  pzisoners  themselTeS;  are  indebted  for  the  correction  of  atmsea  that  were  a 
scandal  to  our  country,  and  who  was  the  first  to  introduce  into  it  that  system  of  non-intercourse 
among  prisonerB,  which,  at  least,  if  it  works  no  positiye  change  in  the  criminal  character, 
must  be  acknowledged  to  prevent  effectually  that  extended  education  in  crime  which  arose 
formerly  from  the  indiscriminate  communion  of  the  inmates  of  our  jails. 

This  gentleman  we  have  long  known  in  private  life,  and  known  only  to  esteem  for  the 
kindness  of  his  heart  and  the  soundness  of  his  views,  as  well  as  the  fine  integrity  of  his 
principles — points,  indeed,  of  which  his  recent  volumes  afford  many  happy  illustrations. 

Mr.  Chesterton,  speaking  of  the  prisons  of  the  early  part  of  liie  present  century,  says— 
"Cleanliness  scarcely  seemed  to  be  a  necessary  requirement;  all  care  to  insure  the  space  indis- 
pensable to  common  decency  was  deemed  snperfluous,  and  shameless  profligacy  unblushingly 
prerailed.  The  lowest  order  of  men  only  aspired  to  dispense  the  fhnotions  of  a  jail,  while 
the  oomsum  allusion  to  '  jail  fevers,'  attested  the  foul  contagion  inseparable  firom  the  foetid 
bdd  of  the  vidous  outcast. 

"At  that  period,  liiere  did  not  exist  a  more  neglected  or  outraged  dass  than  the 
criminals  in  our  numerous  jails.  Hie  philanthropy  of  the  great  Howard  appeared  to  have 
become  extinct,  and  to  have  died  with  him;  while  the  after  exertions  of  Sir  George  Paul 
were  dromnsciibed,  and  seemed  to  produce  no  lasting  efi^.  As  fieur  as  the  comity  of 
Middlesex  was  concerned,  no  care  whatever  was  bestowed  upon  the  prisons,  and  conse- 
quently vidous  administrators  were  left  to  perpetrate  their  corropt  devices.'' 

It  was  the  custom  in  those  days,  he  tells  us,  for  country  justices  to  administer  their 
Amotions  in  their  own  houses,  and  many  so  unblushingly  recdved  fees,  that  their  reddences 
were  known  by  the  by-word  of  ^'justice-shops."  A  magisterial  Mend  of  his  named 
one  justice  then  living,  who  had  beau  distinguished  by  such  discreditable  traffic ;  and  in 
dilating  upon  the  prevailing  corruption  of  the  period,  Mr.  Chesterton's  Mend  expressed  his 
conTiction  that  some  magistrates  had  pocketed  gains  from  the  f^ds  allotted  for  the 
erection  of  Goldbal^  Eidds  prison. 

**  The  late  Mr.  Eobert  Sibley,  wdl  known  and  much  respected  as  the  Middlesex  sur- 
veyor, has  frequently,"  our  author  adds,  *'  described  to  me  the  scenes  he  witnessed  when  he 
fint  became  acquainted  with  the  county.  Men  and  women,  boys  and  girls,  were  indiscri- 
mjnatdy  herded  together,  in  this  chief  county  prison,  without  employment  or  wholesome 
control ;  while  smoking,  gaming,  singing,  and  every  spedes  of  brutalizing  conversation  and 
demeanour  tended  to  the  unlimited  advancement  of  crime  and  pollution. 

«  Meanwhile,  the  governor  of  that  day  walked  about  bearing  in  his  hand  a  knotted  rope, 
and  ever  and  anon  he  would  seize  some  unlucky  wight  by  the  collar  or  arm,  and  rope's-end 
bim  severdy ;  thus  exhibiting  a  warning  example  of  summary  corporeal  chastisement  calcu- 
lated to  overawe  refiractory  bdiolders." 

Sir  Francis  Burdett,  at  the  early  period  of  his  career,  condenmed  the  monstrodties  of 
Ooldbath  Fields  so  vdiemently,  as  to  secure  for  that  prison,  says  Mr.  Chesterton,  "  the 
name  of  the  '  Bastile.'  Governor  Aris  (who  had  formerly  been  a  baker  in  Clerkenwdl)  was 
denounced,  and  became  notorious  as  a  reputed  tyrant  and  torturer.  He  was  ultimatdy 
ejected  from  his  office,  and  died  in  poverty.  Many  years  subsequently  to  his  leaving  the 
prison,  Aris  and  his  sons  would  come  and  importune  me  for  assistance^  and  the  former  never 
finled  to  aver  that  he  was  unjustly  sacrificed  to  popular  clamour. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  continues  our  Mend,  ''  that  the  Middlesex  governor  was  at  that  epodi 
a  worse  specimen  of  his  craft  than  others  of  his  brother  frmctionaries  throughout  the  country, 
for  all  oor  penal  establishments  were  such  sinks  of  iniquity,  that  Aris  might  posdbly  have 
been  not  a  whit  more  guilty  than  his  compeers.  However,  his  accusers  prevailed,  and  he 
was  discarded  without  providon. 

«  During  the  agitation  that  existed  upon  the  subject,  crowds  used  to  assemble  without  the 
waQs  of  the  prisoni  and  the  incarc6rated'**ftilly  acquainted  with  public  occutreneea— would 


286  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LOKDON. 

Bhriek  and  shotit  in  order  to  keep  alive  popular  sympathy^  until  stories  of  cmelty  perpetrated 
within  aroused  indignation  and  invoked  redress. 

''  The  thieves  of  the  present  day  still  retain  in  the  cant  name  of  the  prison  at  Coldbath 
Fields,  a  portion  of  the  appellation  which  hy-gone  agitation  had  conferred  upon  it.  As  an 
omnibus  is  familiarly  styled  a  'bus/  so  is  the  word  Bastile  abbreviated  into  'stile/  pronounced 
'  sUeV 

'*  There  could  be  no  doubt  whatever  of  the  in&mous  management  which  had  long  dis- 
graced the  jails  (in  those  days),  for  I  have  seen  a  hroehmn  of  such  times  written  expreaaly 
to  demonstrate  the  iniquity  then  prevalent  within  the  walls  of  Coldbath  Fields.  This  hro- 
chure  is  sufficiently  intelligible  as  to  the  character  of  that  penitentiary^  and  the  scenes 
enacted  therein,  to  stamp  the  place  as  a  focus  of  abomination  and  impurity. 

''  After  Aris,  the  prison  became  successively  entrusted  to  the  management  of  Gbvemors 
Adkins  and  Yickery — ^both  of  them  having  previously  been  distingnished  as  expert  poUce 
officers ;  for  a  notion  prevailed  in  that  day  that  none  but  police  magistrates  and  their  satel- 
lites were  competent  to  cope  with  pnblie  plunderers. 

''  There  is  no  earthly  doubt  that  these  privileged  l^ctionaries,  the  thief-takbg  govemon, 
held  that  their  primary  obligation  consisted  in  feathering  their  own  nests,  and  at  the  same 
time  enriching  their  subordinates.  Indeed  all  their  arrang^nents  seemed  designed  to  pro- 
mote personal  privileges  and  to  amass  unlimited  gains." 

On  the  27th  of  July,  1829,  Mr.  Chesterton  made  his  debut  in  the  prison,  and  received 
from  the  visiting  justices  the  charge  of  it.  He  found  it ''  a  sink  of  abomination  and  pollution; 
and  so  close  was  the  combination  amongst  its  corrupt  functionaries,  that  it  was  difficult 
to  acquire  any  definite  notion  of  the  wide-spread  defilement  that  polluted  every  hole  and 
comer  of  the  Augean  stable.  There  was  scarcely  one  redeeming  feature  in  the  prison 
administration,"  he  says,  ''  but  the  whole  machinery  tended  to  promote  shameless  gains  by 
the  furtherance  of  all  that  was  lawless  and  execrable. 

''Each  'turnkey'  had  a  fixed  locality,  and  was  the  supervisor  of  a  'yard'  containing 
firom  70  to  100  prisoners,  while  every  yard  contained  a  'yardsman,'  t.^.,  a  prisoner  who 
could  afford  to  bid  the  highest  price  for  acting  as  deputy-turnkey,  and,  under  his  superior, 
to  trade  with  the  prisoners  at  a  stupendous  rate  of  profit  to  his  prinoipal  and  to  himself. 
Prisoners  also  occupied  the  lucrative  posts  of  'nurses'  in  tiie  infirmary,  while  those  of 
'passage-men,'  and  other  still  more  subordinate  capacities,  procurable  by  money,  all  tended 
to  enrich  the  officers  and  the  chosen  prisoners  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

"  From  one  end  of  the  prison  to  the  other,  there  existed  a  vast  illicit  commerce  at  an 
exorbitant  rate  of  profit.  The  basement  of  all  the  cells  was  hollowed  out  and  made  the 
depositories  of  numerous  interdicted  articles.  Layers  of  lime-white,  frequently  renewed, 
hid  beneath  the  surfSeuse  an  inlet  to  such  hidden  treasures ;  and  thus  wine  and  spirits,  tea  and 
coffee,  tobacco  and  pipes,  were  unsuspectedly  stowed  away,  and  even  pickles,  preserves,  and 
fish  sauce,  might  also  be  found  secreted  within  those  occult  receptacles,  llie  walls,  too, 
separating  one  cell  from  another,  were  adapted  to  like  dandestine  uses,  the  key  to  such 
deposits  being  merely  a  brick  or  two  easily  dislodged  by  any  one  acquainted  with  the 
secret. 

"In  vain  might  a  magistrate  penetrate  into  the  interior  of  the  prison,  and  cast  his 
inquisitive  glances  around  him.  Telegraphic  signals  would  announce  the  presence  of  jm. 
unwelcome  visitor,  and  all  be  promptly  arranged  to  defeat  suspicion.  The  prisoners  would 
assume  an  aspect  and  demeanour  at  once  subdued  and  respectful ;  the  doors  of  ceUs  would 
fly  open  to  disclose  clean  basements,  edged  with  thick  layers  of  Hme-white  (deliberately 
used  to  conceal  the  secrets  beneath),  pipes  would  be  extinguished  and  safely  stowed  away, 
the  tread-wheels  fully  manned,  and  other  industrial'  arts  set  in  motion. 

" The  first  question  addressed  to  a  jnisoner  on  his  arrival  was,  'had  he  money,  or  any- 


HOUSE  OF  COEKECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  287 

tiling  eonvertible  into  money,  or  would  any  Mend  sapply  him  with  money/  If  the  reply 
were  affirmative^  the  tnmkey,  or  some  agent  of  his,  woidd  conyey  a  letter  for  the  requisite 
oontribntion,  which  hecame  subject  to  the  unconscionable  deduction  of  seren  or  eight 
shillings,  out  of  every  pound  sterling  transmitted,  besides  a  couple  of  shillings  to  the 
*  yardsman/  and,  in  many  instances,  an  additional  shilluig  to  the  *  passage-man.' 

"  The  poor  and  friendless  prisoner  was  a  nfkn  wretchedly  maltreated  and  oppressed. 
Every  species  of  degrading  employment  was  thrust  upon  him,  and  daily  infULctions  rendered 
his  existence  hardly  supportable.  If  he  presumed  to  complain,  the  most  inhuman  retalia- 
tion awaited  him.  He  was  called  *  a  nose,'  and  was  made  to  ran  the  gaimtlet  through  a 
double  file  of  scoundrels  armed  with  short  ropes  or  knotted  handkerchiefs. 

''  Here,  also,"  adds  the  late  governor,  ''  I  discovered  another  ample  source  of  profit  to 
those  Toracious  turnkeys.  The  correspondence  of  prisoners  with  their  Mends  was  properly 
defined  by  an  existing  regolation,  but  in  this,  as  in  every  other  particular,  rules  were 
nugatory.  If,  therefore,  a  prisoner  were  too  poor  to  pay  one  shilling  or  eighteen-pence  for 
a  letter,  either  written  to  go  out,  or  for  one  received  in,  such  letter  was  invariably 
destroyed.  In  short,  there  was  no  end  to  the  expedients  of  such  corrupt  minds,  in  order  to 
realize  unhallowed  gains." 

It  was  not  until  five  years  after  Mr.  Chesterton  had  entered  upon  the  arduous  task  of 
governing  and  reforming  such  an  institution,  that  he  introduced  the  silent  system  as  part  of 
tiie  disciplino  of  the  prison.  The  following  is  that  gentleman's  version  of  the  circumstances 
which  led  to  so  important  a  change : — 

'*Mr.  Crawford  having  concluded  his  report  upon  the  prisons  of  the  United  States, 
travelled  into  the  North  of  England  and  to  Scotland,  and,  during  his  excursion,  visited 
certain  of  the  prisons  there.  He  returned  to  London  much  impressed  with  the  condition  of 
two,  vi^.,  that  of  Wakefield  in  Yorkshire,  and  the  Bridewell  of  Glasgow. 

**  At  the  former,  the  associated  silent  system  had  been  recently  introduced  under  the 
auspioea  of  a  zealous  magistrate,  who  was  ably  seconded  by  Mr.  Shepherd,  the  governor. 

**  The  practical  eye  of  Mr.  Crawford  soon  discerned  the  value  of  these  improvements, 
and  he  suggested  to  Mr.  Hoare  (one  of  the  Middlesex  magistrates,  and  the  brother-in-law  of 
Mrs.  Fry),  that  I  should  be  sent  down,  first  to  Wakefield,  and  thence  to  Glasgow,  to  witness 
these  two  systems  in  operation,  and  report  upon  the  practicability  of  applying  either  to 
Coldbath  Fields.  The  saggestion  was  communicated  to  the  visiting  justices  by  Mr.  Hoare, 
who  strongly  advised  its  adoption;  and,  consequently,  in  the  month  of  December,  1834,  I 
set  off  thus  commissioned. 

**  Properly  accredited  to  the  authorities  of  both  localities,  I  experienced  every  desirable 
attention,  and  was  allowed  the  &ciHty  to  make  the  closest  observations.  I  soon  perceived 
that  the  paucity  of  cells  at  Coldbath  Fields  presented  an  irremediable  obstacle  to  the 
adoption  of  the  separate  system,  even  if  that  mode  of  discipline  should  be  preferred,  but 
iiiat  some  practical  alterations  would  enable  us  to  embrace  the  silent  system.* 

**  On  my  return,  I  presented  a  minute  report,  which  was  laid  before  the  court  and 
subsequently  published  in  extenso  in  some  of  the  daily  journals.  At  length  the  requisite 
authority  was  conceded,  and  all  preliminary  arrangements  perfected ;  and  on  the  29th 
Deeemh^Tf  1834,  a  populatum  of  9\^  prisoners  was  suddenfy  apprised  that  aU  intereommuni- 

•  <<  Hitherto  room  htd  bean  found,  in  order  to  compensate  for  the  deficiency  of  cells,  by  sleeping  three 
conviete  in  each  cell ;  but  under  the  newly- imported  discipline  this  arrangement  could  no  longer  be  tolerated. 
We  adopted,  therefore,  the  expedient  of  encloeing  in  every  yard  the  space  under  each  set  of  tread«>wheels, 
virich  were  erected  on  elevated  platforms.  The  previous  day-rooms,  and  every  spare  room  throughout  the 
great  building,  were  then  adapt^  to  sleeping,  by  the  oonstruction  of  berths  in  three  tiers,  as  in  use  in  the 
eafaina  of  passenger-vessels ;  and  opposite  to  these  the  monitor  slept  on  an  iron  bedstead.  A  mode  of  inspec- 
ticA  from  without  was  qpea  to  the  night  watchman.'*<-*iV<^  ly  Mr,  ChetierioH. 


288  THE  GREAT  WOBU)  OP  LONDON. 

eoNon  hy  word,  gesture,  wr  sign  was  proh$hiM ;  and,  mthont  a  monntir,  or  ihe  least  symptom 
of  overt  opposition,  the  silent  system  became  the  established  role  of  the  prison. 

''  In  the  oatset,  it  was  effected  by  the  employment  of  monitors,  selected  by  their  conduct 
and  intelligence  from  amongst  the  prisoners.  That  practice  is  now  prohibited  by  law,  and 
the  interdiction  is  nndonbtedly  both  just  and  politic. 

''In  short,  all  (except  the  irreclaimably  debased)  who  had  watched  and  deplored  the 
system,  now  happily  superseded,  saw  cause  to  rejoice  in  the  change.  There  was  at  length 
a  real  protection  to  morals,  and  it  no  longer  became  the  reproach  that  the  oomparatiTely 
innocent  should  be  consigned  to  inevitable  demoralization  and  ruin.'' 

Another  important  change  in  the  discipline  in  fliis  prison  occuired  in  the  introduction  of 
the' tread- wheel,  though  this  took  place  several  years  prior  to  the  introduction  of  the  silent 
system.  This  apparatus,  we  have  before  said  (p.  174),  was  first  set  up  in  Brixton  prison 
in  1817;  and  Mr.  Chesterton  cites  the  following  curious  anecdote  as  to  the  origin  of  the  con- 
trivance itself: — 

"  It  was  the  invention  of  Mr.  Cubitt,  the  engineer  of  Lowestoft,  in  Suffolk,  a  gentleman 
of  science,  of  extensive  professional  connections,  and  of  gentle  and  pleasing  deportment.  The 
notion  of  such  a  piece  of  machinery  owed  its  conception  in  his  mind  to  a  singular  casualty. 
I  received  the  following  narration  from  his  own  Ups : — 

''All  who  may  be  acquainted  with  the  county  jail  of  Suffolk,  at  Bury  8t.  Edmonds,  or 
raOier  as  it  was  twenty  years  and  upwards  ago,  must  be  aware  of  the  unsightly  feature  then 
existing  (after  passing  through  the  main  entrance),  of  mere  open  iron  fences  separating  yards 
occupied  by  prisoners  firom  the  passage  trodden  by  incoming  visitors.  The  inmates,  in  re- 
pulsive groups,  were  seen  lounging  idly  about,  and  the  whole  aspect  indicated  a  demoralixing 
waste  of  strength  and  time. 

"  Under  such  dispositions,  and  some  years  before  Mr.  Cubitf  s  relation  to  me,  that  gentle- 
man was  in  professional  communication  with  the  magistrates  at  the  jail  of  Bury,  and  there 
he  and  a  magistrate,  the  one  going  out,  and  the  other  entering,  met  in  the  described  passage, 
from  which,  as  they  stood  to  converse,  the  prisoners,  as  usual,  were  seen  idly  loitering  about. 

"  '  I  wish  to  God,  Mr.  Cubitt,'  said  the  justice,  'you  could  suggest  to  us  some  mode  of 
employing  those  fellows !  Could  nothing  like  a  wheel  become  available  ?'  An  instantaneous 
idea  flashed  through  the  mind  of  Mr.  Cubitt,  who  whispered  to  himself, '  the  wheel  elongated! ' 
and  merely  saying  to  his  interrogator — '  Something  has  struck  me  which  may  prove  worthy 
of  ftirther  consideration,  and  perhaps  you  may  hear  from  me  upon  the  subject,'  he  took  his 
leave. 

"After  reflection  enabled  Mr.  Cubitt  to  fashion  all  the  mechanical  requirements  into  a 
practical  form ;  and  by  such  a  casual  incident  did  the  tread- wheel  start  into  existence,  and  soon 
came  into  general  adoption  in  the  prisons  of  the  coimtry  as  the  type  of  hard  labour." 

At  first,  the  labour  on  the  tread-wheel  was  excessive.  In  utter  ignorance  of  the  mischief 
which  such  an  excess  of  exertion  produced,  the  authorities  at  Coldbath  Fields  apportioned 
to  each  male  individual  12,000  feet  of  ascent  upon  it  per  diem.  That  ratio,  we  are  told, 
proved  seriously  injurious  to  health,  especially  under  tiie  circumstances  of  a  diet  restricted 
to  the  minimum  of  what  was  deemed  adequate  requirement. 

"  The  most  robust  frames,"  adds  the  prison  historian,  "  would  become  attenuated  by  it ; 
and  a  prolonged  indulgence  in  a  daily  allowance  of  beer,  increased  diet,  and,  in  many 
instances,  other  prescribed  stimulants,  hardly  sufficed  to  arrest  the  mischief.  So  debilitating 
were  the  results  of  the  undue  amount  of  such  dispiriting  labour,  that  (before  the  erection  of 
military  prisons)  the  Boyal  Artillery  abstained  from  committing  their  offending  men  to 
Coldbath  Fields,  owing  to  the  injurious  effects  observable,  on  their  return  to  their  r^jment^ 
from  the  mischievous  excess  of  tread-wheel  occupation." 

The  present  amount  of  asoent  is  limited  to  1,200  feet  per  diem. 


HOTJSE  OF  COBBEGTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  289 

If  i— y9- 

JiUeriar  of  ih$  Prison. 

As  the  hour  adyanced  at  which  the  gates  were  to  be  opened,  the  warders  began  to 
aflsemble.  "We  could  see  them  hnrrying  down  the  streets  on  all  sides,  and  soon  the  road  in 
front  of  the  jail  was  filled  with  a  crowd  of  men  in  dark-blue  uniform,  each  with  a  belt  of 
shining  leather  over  one  shoulder,  supporting,  just  above  the  hip,  a  pouch,  something  similar 
to  a  soldier's  cartouche-box,  on  which  was  the  brass  number  that  distinguished  the  official. 
Some  of  these  warders  had  fastened  on  to  their  stand-up  collars,  in  the  same  place  where 
a  policeman's  number  is  placed,  a  gilt  metal  plate,  and  others  a  silver  one,  on  which  were 
stamped  the  Middlesex  Arms  of  the  three  sabres,  this  being  the  distinguishing  mark  between 
the  warders  and  the  sub-warders. 

Many  of  the  men  seemed  but  half  awake.  They  leant  against  the  railings,  some  smoking, 
others  chatting,  until,  at  twenty-five  minutes  past  six,  the  sudden  report  of  a  gun  was 
heard,  making  the  silent  air  ring  again,  and  causing  a  peacock  in  the  vicinity  to  begin 
screaming.  Instantly  down  were  dashed  the  pipes  of  the  warders,  and  up  jumped  the  men, 
hurrying  along  the  carriage-way  to  the  gates,  which  now  opened  to  receive  them. 

We  entered  a  stone-paved  yard,  on  one  side  of  which  stood  the  gate-warder's  lodge,  and 
on  the  other  stretched  out  a  gravelled  court.  A  canopy  of  glass,  like  the  roof  of  a  green- 
honse,  was  suspended  in  the  air  like  an  awning,  and  covered  in  the  path  leading  to  an 
iron  double  gate,  which  lay  some  twenty  feet  off  in  front ;  the  little  yard  was  hemmed 
round  with  thick  railings  and  massive  gates,  through  which  we  could  distinguish  the  governor's 
house  and  the  protruding  sides  of  the  main  prison  itself,  with  its  small  heavily-barred 
windows.  The  detached  clump  of  buildings  between  us  and  the  main  prison  seemed  more 
like  a  private  residence  than  part  of  a  prison ;  and  on  inquiry  it  was  explained  to  us,  that 
the  erection  was  that  in  which  the  clerk's  and  governor's  offices,  the  visiting  magistrates* 
committee-rooms,  as  well  as  the  armoury  and  the  record  office,  were  situated. 

The  gate-warder  stood  by  with  the  bright  key  inserted  in  the  lock,  as  the  officers 
entered,  ready  to  turn  the  bolt  at  the  first  order. 

We  were  not  long  before  we  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  deputy-governor,  who,  in  fdU 
uniform,  with  a  crimson  shield  and  gold  sabre  on  his  collar,  and  gold  band  round  his  cap, 
came  out  to  review  the  warders  before  they  began  the  duties  of  the  day. 

'' Half-past  six,"  said  that  gentleman  to  us,  pointing  to  the  time-piece,  large  as  a  target, 
over  the  double-grating,  ''is  the  time  to  close  the  gates,  but  we  do  not  shut  them  until 
three  minutes  past  the  half-hour,  to  give  the  men  a  little  time  in  case  the  clocks  outside 
fihoold  differ  from  our  own." 

At  two  minutes  past  the  half-hour  the  men  came  hurrying  through  the  gates,  for  there 
ifl  a  fijie  attached  to  being  late  on  duty.* 

The  gate-warder's  office  was  a  room  fiill  of  wainscotted  cupboards,  and  with  heavy 
ledgers  in  a  rack  over  the  desk  on  one  side ;  and  as  we  stood  here  looking  at  a  long  row  of 
pigeon-holes,  alphabetically  arranged,  with  a  few  letters  in  them,  the  warder  told  us  that  the 
letters  had  been  sent  by  the  prisoners'  friends,  but  that  as  only  one  epistle  was  allowed  in 
three  months,  those  we  saw  had  been  kept  back  until  the  permitted  period  arrived.  There 
were  barely  a  dozen  such  epistles. 

When  the  order  to  close  the  gates  had  been  given,  the  warders  fell  into  three  lines,  as  if 
for  a  review.  As  some  of  them  carried  umbrellas,  and  others  bundles,  the  spectacle  had  not 
a  very  military  appearance. 

^  For  every  five  minutes  tiiat  an  officer  is  behind  time,  he  is  fined  Sif.,  until  the  sum  of  2#.  6df«  has  been 
forfeited. 


290  TfflE  aBEAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDOIT. 

'' Attention!"  cried  the  depnty-goyemor,  and  then  the  warden  became  stif^  and  erect. 
The  superior  officer  passed  down  the  first  Ene,  and  examined  their  dress,  observing  whether 
their  boots  and  clothing  were  cleanly  and  in  proper  order,  and  then  giving  the  command  of 
''Two  steps  forward — ^march!"  he  walked  down  the  alley  thns  formed  between  the  first 
and  second  rows,  and  inspected  the  second  file. 

This  examination  over,  tiie  double  iron-gratings  were  unlocked,  and  passing  through  the 
passage  in  the  centre  dump  of  buildings,  we  entered  the  fiag-stoned  yard  &cing  the  main 
or  felons*  prison. 

There  was  no  doubt  now  as  to  the  nature  of  the  edifice  before  us.  The  squat  front  of 
the  whitewashed  two-storeyed  building  was  so  deyoid  of  any  attempt  at  ornament,  that  even 
the  small  windows  with  t^e  heavy  black  gratings  before  them  seemed  relie&  to  its  mono- 
tonous aspect.  A  few  stone  steps  led  to  a  low  wicket  with  a  row  of  spikes  on  its  thick  swing- 
door,  the  spikes  being  so  arranged  that  they  reached  within  two  inches  of  the  thick  Gross*- 
bars  fixed  in  the  circular  fan-Hght  over  it. 

An  officer,  with  a  pale,  tired  face  and  disordered  hair,  and  who,  armed  with  a  cutlassy 
had  been  watching  through  the  night,  here  met  the  deputy-goTemor.    ''  All  right,"  reported 

the  man,  and  moved  on. 

A  gang  of  prisoners,  dressed  in  their  suit  of  dusty  gray,  now  issued  from  the  main  build- 
ing and  crossed  the  yard,  with  a  warder  following  them.  On  the  back  of  each  criminal  was 
a  square  canvas  tablet  stitched  to  the  jacket,  and  on  the  bosom  was  a  long  badge  worn 
something  like  that  of  a  cabman.  Each  of  the  wretched  men,  as  he  descended  the  stone 
steps,  and  caught  sight  of  the  deputy-goyemor,  held  up  his  hand  to  his  worsted  cap  and 
gaye  a  half  military  salute. 

"  Xhey  are  vagrants  and  reputed  thieyes,"  explained  the  officer;  ''but  for  want  of  room 
in  the  vagrants'  ward  they  have  been  sleeping  in  the  felons'  ceUs.  We  are  now  waitiiig," 
continued  the  officer,  "until  the  different  cells  are  unlocked,  and  then  it  is  my  duty  to  make 
the  rounds  and  count  the  prisoners." 


%«  The  Litmar  of  the  ''Mam''  JPnean  and  OnmUng  the  FHeenert.—AR  confined  within 
the  main  prison  have,  as  we  haye  said,  been  convicted  as  felons.  Ascending  the  stone 
steps  we  passed  down  a  few  paces  of  passage,  when  a  second  wicket,  srmilar  to  the  first, 
was  unlocked  to  admit  us.  We  now  stood  in  a  kind  of  haU  about  forty  feet  square,  in  the 
centre  of  which  were  four  stout  iron  piUars,  "  to  support,"  as  we  were  told,  "  the  chapel 
above."  This  vestibule  was  so  bright  with  whitewash,  that  the  light  reflected  was  almost 
painfrd  to  the  eyes.  On  the  walls  were  large  paper  placards  printed  in  bold  type,  with 
religious  texts.  One  was  as  follows : — "  Coksidxb  toits  wats,  fob  tx  shall  all  staioi 
BEFORE  THE  jUBGHBirT  SEAT  OF  Ghbist."  Another  ran — "  Sweab  koi  at  all,"  which, 
in  a  prison  conducted  on  the  silent  system,  struck  us  as  being  somewhat  out  of  place. 
Whilst  a  third  contained  the  curiously  inappropriate  quotation — "  Behold  how  eoon  abj> 

HOW  PLXASAin  II  IS  FOB   BBEIHBEN    10    DWELL    TOOETHEB  IN    UJIJLXY."       At   Caoh   COmer  of 

this  hall  there  was  a  gate  of  thick  iron  bars  leading  to  the  prisoners'  cells. 

Before  us  lay  a  long  corridor,  down  which  ran  a  double  row  of  thick  columns,  supportiii^ 
a  groined  roof.  These  pillars  were  stout  and  dumpy, -being  more  than  two  feet  in  diameter, 
and  measuring  scarcely  six  feet  from  the  ground  to  the  oyerhanging  capital  whence  tlie 
arches  spring.  Yet,  although  the  width  of  the  centre  passage  was  but  a  few  feet,  still, 
from  the  corridor  being  nearly  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  the  e£bct  was  pictoiesque  and 
agreeable,  owing  to  the  pleasing  perspective  of  the  columns. 

This  main  building  contains  eight  yards,  each  one  holding  from  a  hundred  to  a  hundxed 
and  fifteen  prisoners,  all  felons.  The  deputy-goyemor,  unlocking  one  of  the  stnmg  iitm 
gates  in  the  comer,  led  us  into  what  is  called  the  first  yard.  It  was  an  oblong  open  space, 
about  the  size  of  a  racket-ground,  lying  parallel  with  the  outer  wall,  or  fkont,  of  tiie 


HOUSE  OF  COBBECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  291 

buildiiig,  and  at  light  angles  ^th  the  paasage.  On  ono  aide  was  what  appeared  two  low 
wooden  sheds  bnilt  one  above  the  other,  and  each  with  long  glazed  lights  running  the  entire 
length  of  the  buildings ;  the  under  one  being  the  meal-room,  and  the  upper  a  spare  dormi- 
toijy  at  present  out  of  use.  Ajb  in  the  other  portions  of  the  building  we  had  passed 
through,  here  the  walls  and  wood-work  were  sorupulously  dean  and  firesh  with  whitewash 
and  paint..  Facing  these  sheds  was  a  row  of  doors  leading,  as  we  found,  to  the  sleeping  cells. 
The  doors,  with  the  black  bolts  drawn  back,  and  the  cross-bars  slanting  upwards,  were 
half  opened,  showing  the  inmates  had  left  the  cells.  Oyer  each  door  was  a  massive  half- 
circular  grating  let  into  the  stone  wall,  and  by  means  of  which  the  light  entered  when  the 
men  were  locked  up  for  the  night ;  whilst  at  the  further  end,  ranged  on  one  side  of  the 
doorway  leading  to  the  galleries  above,  were  six  slate  washing-stands  for  the  use  of  the 
prisoners. 

Those  of  the  prisoners  who  slept  in  the  dormitories  and  cells,  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
prison,  were  enteriug  by  the  last-mentioned  door,  in  a  long  file,  each  carrying  a  wooden  tub, 
which,  as  he  passed  a  sink  in  the  centre  of  the  yard,  he  emptied,  aad  then  added  the  vessel 
to  a  pile  that  kept  rapidly  increasing  in  height  as  one  after  another  went  by.  Then,  still 
continuing  in  line,  the  prisoners  entered  the  wooden  shed.  These  men  carried  also  a  bundle 
compoeed  of  a  towel,  a  comb,  and  Bible,  Prayer,  and  reading  book.  Soon  the  under  shed 
was  filled  with  the  culprits;  whereupon  the  officers  mounting  on  their  tall  stools,  so  situated 
that  from  them  they  could  overlook  the  crowd,  kept  a  strict  watch  that  none  of  them  con- 
veiBed  together. 

The  place,  as  we  entered,  was  silent  as  a  deserted  building.  The  long  rows  of  wretched 
men  in  their  dusky  pauper  gray  suits,  without  one  particle  of  white  to  relieve  the  monotony 
of  their  prison  costume,  looked  like  so  many  rats  in  a  cage.  Their  faces  seemed  pale  and 
careworn^  and  they  turned  their  eyes  towards  us  with  a  half  idiotic  expression,  in  which 
there  was  neither  surprise  at  seeing  a  stranger  amongst  them  at  so  early  an  hour,  nor 
even  shame  at  being  seen  by  a  visitor  in  their  degraded  position.  Amongst  the  prisoners 
we  Botieed  one,  a  lad  not  more  than  fifteen  years  old,  and  three  or  four  old  men,  who  all 
seemed  equally  ont  of  place  in  such  an  assembly — ^the  one  from  his  youth,  the  others  from 
their  age.    A  few  of  the  men  were  already  readlag,  and  never  raised  their  eyes. 

The  deputy-governor  having  counted  ^e  prisoners,  called  out  the  number,  and  the  sub- 
warders  having  answered  ''Bight,"  an  entry  was  made  in  a  book,  and  the  felon's  morning 
toilet  commenced.  The  men  took  off  their  coats  and  opened  their  blue  shirts.  Directly  the 
acanbre  gray  clothes  were  removed,  it  was  strange  how  altered  the  appearance  of  the  prisoners 
became.    The  colour  of  the  flesh  gave  them  once  more  a  human  look. 

Twelve  at  a  time  they  rose  and  entered  the  yard.  Then,  some  at  the  slate  lavatories, 
othen  at  tubs  placed  on  the  paved  ground,  began  to  soap  their  neck  and  faces,  and  rub  them 
with  their  wet  hands  until  they  were  white  with  the  lather.  But  a  few  minutes  were 
allowed  to  each  gang,  and  at  the  expiration  of  the  time  they  returned  to  the  shed,  there  to 
adjust  their  shirts,  comb  their  hair,  and  put  on  their  jackets. 

Whilst  these  operations  were  going  on  the  iron-barred  door  of  the  yard  opened,  and  a 
prieooer,  bearing  a  tin  can  entered,  accompanied  by  the  infirmary  warder.  This  can  con- 
tained poultices,  and  the  man  called  out  aloud,  ''  Any  want  dressings  ?"  A  lad,  with  sores  in 
his  neck,  hada  soda-water  bottle  given  to  him,  fiUed  with  a  gray-coloured  wash,  and  he  entered 
a  cell  to  apply  the  medidne. 

Befixre  leaving  the  yard  the  deputy-governor  went  to  a  tell-tale  clock  (similar  in  con- 
stmction  to  those  seen  at  Fentonville,  and  which,  we  were  assured,  were  the  invention  of 
Mr.  Fillary,  the  engineer  to  this  prison),  to  see  if  the  night  warder  had  regularly  marked  the 
half-hours,  and  so  discover  whether  he  had  attended  to  his  duties. 

In  all  the  yards  that  we  visited  the  same  counting  and  cleansing  processes  were  being 
goaA  thxoogh. 


292  THE  GBEAT  /WOEED  OP  LONDON. 

In  one  of  fhe  yards  we  notioed  a  negro,  a  tall,  bony  fellow,  with  blood-ahot  eyes  ;  in 
another,  an  old  man  of  eighty,  with  hair  as  white  as  the  prison  walls  themselyes,  and  which 
was  especially  striking  firom  the  generality  of  the  prisoners  being  mere  youths.  Se  no 
sooner  saw  us  enter,  than  hastily  putting  on  his  spectacles,  he  commenced  reading,  bending 
his  face  down  as  if  to  hide  it  in  shame.  The  deputy-goyemor  told  us  that  he  had  given  a 
false  name,  but  that  it  was  known  he  once  held  a  high  command  in  the  army.  He  was 
there  for  a  nameless  offence. 

The  counting  ended,  our  guide  returned  to  the  jail  office  to  consult  l^e  locking-up  slate, 
upon  which  had  been  marked  the  number  of  prisoners  within  the  walls  when  the  doors  were 
fastened  the  night  before.  The  amount  agreeing  with  the  morning's  examination,  a  paper 
form  was  filled  up  to  await  the  goyemor's  signature. 

%*  The  Prisoners^  Own-Cfloth$»  8tor$. — ^As  we  had  a  few  moments  to  spare,  it  was  pro- 
posed to  yisit  the  loft  where  the  dothes,  taken  firom  the  prisoners  on  their  arriyal  at  the  jail, 
were  stowed  away. 

'<  Mind  you  do  not  knock  your  head,"  said  the  officer,  warning  us  that  a  beam,  as  thick 
as  a  mast,  stuck  out  in  the  narrow  staircase  leading  up  to  the  felons'  wardrobe.  No 
sooner  had  we  entered  the  lofb,  than  the  disagreeable,  gluey  odour  which  attaches  itself  to 
moleskin  and  corduroy,  informed  us  of  the  materials  of  which  most  of  the  suits  were  com- 
posed. 

The  first  sight  of  l^e  dirty  bundles,  piled  on  the  shelyes,  reminded  us  of  Rag 
Fair,  where  the  itinerant  flower  and  crockery  yendors  expose  for  sale  the  results 
of  their  day^s  barterings.  Each  bundle,  tied  up  as  tightly  as  a  boiling  pudding,  had  a 
wooden  label,  so  as  to  indicate  to  whom  the  ragged  contents  belonged.  Here  were  a  pair 
of  trousers,  with  the  linings  dirtier  than  the  once  black  cloth  from  which  they  were 
made.  There  a  stuff  waistcoat,  made  of  stuff  that  was  slowly  unrayeUing  itself  with 
wear,  and  becoming  as  thready  and  fibrous  as  the  yery  oakum  its  owner  would  haye  that 
day  to  pick. 

''  That's  a  countryman's  bundle,  I  should  say,"  said  the  officer,  pointing  to  a  pair  of 
heavily  nailed  and  ironed  boots,  the  iron  of  which  had  become  red  with  rust,  from  being  so 
long  unworn. 

Some  of  the  hats  were  ''  shockingly  bad"  ones,  being  as  limp  as  night-caps,  and  as  rusty 
as  if  made  from  cocoa-nut  fibre.  Others  were  carefhUy  tied  up  in  handkerchiefs,  and  some  of 
these  had  clean  showy  linings,  and  a  greasy  gViss.  Our  guide  told  us  that  occasionally  they 
had  some  very  dandy  suits  to  pack  up,  taken  from  the  swell-mobsmen,  whose  fashionable 
attire  often  included  jewellery. 

Smock-frocks  and  straw  hats  denoted  culprits  from  the  agricultural  districts,  corduroy 
waistcoats,  with  brass  buttons,  were  evidently  some  costermonger's  property.  Soldiers* 
uniforms,  with  the  coarse  canvas  linings  and  big  brass  hooks  and  eyes  showing,  were  rather 
plentiful.  ''  Have  you  remarked,"  asked  our  companion,  **  that  nearly  all  the  pocket-hand- 
kerchiefs have  a  red  pattern?"  And  so  it  was,  with  so  few  exceptions,  that  red  may 
assuredly  be  written  down  as  the  felon's  favourite  colour. 

Before  this  clothing  is  stored  away,  each  suit  is  well  fumigated  with  sulphur,  to  destroy 
any  vermin  that  it  may  contain.  At  a  later  period  of  the  day  we  had  an  opportunity  of 
witnessing  this  process.  In  a  large  oven,  with  a  fire  burning  beneath  it,  the  suits,  wrapped 
tightly  in  a  roll,  are  placed  on  bars,  one  above  another.  The  oven  will  contain  150  suits. 
A  pan,  filled  with  brimstone,  is  lighted  and  placed  in  this  chamber,  and  the  doors  being 
closed,  the  temperature  is  carefully  watched,  that  the  heat  should  not  exceed  212%  for 
fear  that  the  bakings  should  be  literally  done  to  rags,  or  burnt  to  a  cinder.  The  garmeats 
retain,  on  coming  out,  rather  a  powerful  smell  of  lucifer  matches,  but,  when  compared 
with  their  previous  odour,  the  change  is  not  disagreeable. 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTIOIT,  COLDBATH  FIELDS. 


PBIBOXERS*  CLOTHES  AT  COLDBATH  PIELDS  PRISON. 

%*  Zibtration  e/I'ruMeri. — The  House  of  Correction  being  what  may  be  called  a  short- 
tarn  prison,  men  are  discharged  &om  confinement  nearly  every  day ;  indeed,  the  usual  unmber 
of  discharges  for  the  week  amoimta  to  about  150  prisoners. 

We  were  informed  that  a  gang  of  twenty  prisoners  would  that  morning  quit  the  jail, 
and  Bsked  if  we  shonld  like  to  witness  their  departure.  Following  the  deputy-governor, 
we  bsKtened  to  the  spot  where  the  men  were  ranged. 

The  depnty-govemor,  looking  at  a  paper  which  he  held  in  hia  hand,  said  to  the  gang, 

"  How,  my  men,  stand  forward,  one  at  a  time,  and  call  out  your  names."     "  W ■ 

B— — ,"  instantly  raied  out  one  of  them,  quitting  the  rank.   "  Go  on,"  was  the  command 

then  given.     "  J T ,"  shouted  another.     "  Move  on,"  was  the  rejoinder;  and 

in  this  way  the  whole  twenty  passed  their  final  examination. 

The  utter  absence  of  anything  like  joy  or  excitement  on  the  part  of  the  men,  at  the  pro- 
spect of  their  approaching  liberation,  was  most  remarkable.  They  stood  staring  stupidly  about 
thcon,  and  answered  calmly,  precisely  in  the  same  manner  as,  a  day  or  two  since,  they  had 
replied  to  any  question  put  to  them  by  the  warders. 

"Whilst  the  Uberation  list  was  being  checked  in  the  ofice,  the  men  exchanged  tbe  prison 
nnifbrm  for  their  own  olothes.  By  the  time  the  papers  were  prepared,  the  wretched  creatures 
were  also  ready.  Thenthegovemorhimself  wcntup  tothem,  and  after  kindly  congratulating 
them  upon  regoining  their  freedom,  added,  "  Now  that  you  are  going  to  have  your  liberty, 
I  hope  I  shall  not  see  you  again.  Seek  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his  rightcoiiuicEB,  and, 
d^tend  upon  it,  you  will  prosper." 
21 


294  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON- 

The  men  once  habited  in  their  own  clothes,  ragged  as  they  were,  had  a  more  human 
look  about  them,  than  when,  a  quarter  of  an  hour  since,  they  wore  the  prison  gray. 

Now  began  the  begging  scene,  which,  we  were  told,  always  precedes  the  departure  of 
prisoners  from  the  jail. 

One — a  tall  fellow,  with  his  bare  feet  showing  through  the  holes  in  his  burst  and  mouldy 
high-lows — begged  for  an  old  pair  of  prison  shoes.  **  Got  a  long  way  to  go,"  pleaded  the 
man.  "Where  are  you  going?"  asked  the  governor.  "To  Edmonton,  sir;  I'm  a  brick- 
layer, and  got  a  wife  and  family,"  was  the  answer.  "A  bad  way  to  help  them,  coming 
here,"  remonstrated  the  governor,  as  he  gave  the  necessary  order  to  the  storekeeper. 

Another  man,  whose  clothes,  iaJl  of  slits  and  holes,  held  together  in  so  marvellous  a 
manner  that  they  seemed  like  a  dirty  ragged  mass  of  cobwebs,  such  as  are  seen  in  wine- 
merchants'  windows  clinging  to  bottles  of  "  fine  old  crusted  port,"  had  also  got  a  long  way 
to  go,  and  begged  for  a  pair  of  socks  and  a  trifle  of  money.  He,  too,  obtained  what  lio 
wanted. 

Another  and  another  came  up  in  his  turn,  and  asked  to  be  assisted.  "  It  was  curious," 
as  the  governor  shrewdly  remarked,  "  the  long  journeys  they  all  had  to  perform." 

We  were  standing  at  the  big  gate,  to  enjoy  the  sight  of  the  men  regaining  their  liberty, 
when  somebody  knocked,  and,  on  the  warder  opening  the  door,  a  respectably-dressed  person 
inquired  if  a  man  of  the  name  of  P woidd  not  be  discharged  that  day  ? 

"Are  you  from  the  parish?'  asked  the  warder;  and,  from  the  subsequent  conversationy 
we  learnt  that  during  the  husband's  imprisonment  (he  had  had  seven  days  for  drunkenness), 
his  wife  and  child  had  been  thrown  on  the  parish,  and  the  authorities  were  now  anxious  to 
comply  with  the  forms  of  law,  and  hand  her  back  to  the  husband.     Accordingly,  when 

P left  the  jail,  the  parish  officer  stepped  up  to  him,  and  gave  him  a  young  girl  with 

an  infant  in  her  arms.     P  quietly  said,  "  AU  right !"  and  walked  off,  leaving  the 

woman  to  follow. 

Another  such  case  followed,  but  with  this  one  there  were  three  little  children,  whom  the 
parish,  having  brought  down  in  a  cab,  handed  back  to  the  father  the  moment  he  crossed  the 
prison  threshold. 

We  had  expected  to  see,  among  the  crowd  gathered  about  the  outer  railings,  a  vast  num- 
ber of  the  friends  of  the  liberated,  and  to  witness  their  joy  at  seeing  the  long-absent  one 
restored  to  them.  But  we  were  doomed  to  be  disappointed.  The  "pals"  of  one  or  two 
had  certainly  come  to  meet  them ;  but  the  welcome  was  given  in  a  calm,  unconcerned,  nay, 
almost  business-like,  manner.  Others  walked  off  from  the  crowd,  with  women  following 
them,  never  even  looking  back  at  the  females  at  their  heels.  One  youth,  a  tall  strip 
of  a  lad,  in  a  Holland  coat  that  fluttered  about  his  pole  of  a  body,  had  scarcely  shown 
his  face  at  the  gate,  before  a  voice  in  the  crowd  shouted  out — "  Now,  Jim,  can't  you  come 
on !"  and  we  saw  a  thick-chinned  man,  with  a  tail,  narrow-brimmed  hat,  motioning  angrily 
to  the  late  prisoner  to  make  haste. 

%♦  Arrival  of  Prisoners. — ^When  the  prison-van  is  seen  driving  in  the  directum  of 
the  House  of  Correction,  a  crowd  begins  to  form  outside,  in  the'  hope  of  catching  a 
glimpse  of  the  prisoners  alighting.  Butchers  with  joints  "  wanted  in  a  hurry,"  fishmongerB* 
lads  with  fish  "to  be  sent  roimd  directly,"  nursery-maids  with  perambulators,  coster- 
women  with  their  shallow  baskets — all  push  for  a  good  place  at  the  railings  to  have  a  peep  at 
the  sight.  On  the  day  that  we  were  at  the  prison,  the  spectators  on  the  pavement  wei>c 
doomed  to  be  disappointed,  for  the  big  outer  gates  were  opened,  and  the  huge  hearse-like 
omnibus  was  driven  into  the  yard,  the  horses  sputtering  about  as  they  tugged  at  the  heavy 
vehicle. 

"As  frill  as  we  can  cram!"  said  the  conductor,  getting  down  from  his  small  hall-diair- 
like  seat,  outside  the  extreme  end  of  the  vehicle.    When  he  unlocked  the  door,  sure  enoogh. 


HOTJSE  OF  OOEBECTIOl^^,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  295 

even  the  paflsage  between  the  two  rows  of  closet-fashioned  cells,  ranged  along  the  inside  of 
the  oarriage,  was  filled  with  men  standing  there;  they  were  all  felons  £rom  Kewgate,  where 
the  sessions  liad  just  terminated. 

One  by  one  the  men  stept  out,  with  a  half  bound,  as  if  glad  to  have  ended  their  cramped 
ride.  They  stared  about  them  for  a  second,  to  see  what  kind  of  place  they  had  arrived  at, 
and  then,  obeying  the  warder's  commanding  voice,  they  passed  the  double  iron  gate,  where 
the  visits  take  place,  and  entered  the  inner  court.  There  they  stood  with  their  backs  turned 
to  the  main  prison,  waiting  for  their  names  to  be  called  over,  and  their  sentences  and 
offences  entered  in  the  prison  books. 

There  were  nineteen  of  them  altogether,  all  of  them  with  unshorn  beards,  dirty  linen, 
tambled  clothes,  and  presenting  the  appearance  of  having  been  up  all  night.  One  was  in  a 
soldier's  uniform ;  another  was  a  respectable-looking  man,  of  stout  build  and  tall  stature,  and 
with  silver  spectacles,  who,  despite  the  dullness  of  his  boots  and  the  dusty  condition  of  his 
clothes,  might  be  styled  the  gentleman  of  the  gang.  Another,  a  youth,  with  eyes  and  skin 
as  dark  as  a  Spaniard's,  whose  delicate  moustache,  loose  paletot,  and  sporting  trousers,  were 
after  the  casino  style  of  fashion,  ranked  next  in  gentility  of  appearance.  A  lad  with  a 
peculiarly-shaped  conical  head,  and  who  kept  neirously  buttoning  and  unbuttoning  his  sur- 
tout,  was  the  next  who  had  anything  singular  in  his  look,  for  all  the  others  had  liiore  or  less 
of  the  thieves'  character  about  them,  and  wore  bright-coloured  handkerchiefe  loosely  tied 
round  their  neck,  or  had  rows  of  brass  buttons  down  their  corduroy  jackets,  and  boots 
made  to  lace  up  in  j&ont.  One  was  lame  and  used  a  crutch,  another  carried  a  paper  parcel, 
another  a  bundle  tied  up  in  a  handkerchief,  whilst  the  bulgy  condition  of  some  of  the  coat 
pockets  showed  that  the  scanty  wardrobe  had  been  stuffed  into  them. 

Whilst  the  new-comers  were  thus  standing,  a  file  of  prisoners,  in  their  prison  suits,  passed 
through  the  yard.  Each  of  the  men,  in  dingy  gray,  looked  hard  at  those  in  their  '^  liberty  " 
suits,  and  the  newly-arrived,  in  their  turn,  stared  curiously  at  their  future  companions  on 
the  tread-wheel. 

Presently  the  voice  of  the  chief  warder  was  heard  ordering  the  first  man  to  enter  the 
office,  where  the  clerk  was  to  make  the  necessary  entries.  The  tall,  stout  man,  with  the 
silver  spectacles,  walked  up  to  the  desk,  and  the  examinations  commenced  in  a  business-like 
manner,  the  questions  and  answers  being  equally  short. 

"Name?"  asked  the  chief  warder.     "J C ,"  answered  the  prisoner.     *'Age?" 

continued  the  officer.  **  Thirty-nine,"  replied  the  man.  And  then  the  following  questions 
and  responses  followed  in  quick  succession: — "Read  and  write?"  "Yes."  "Ever  here 
before?"  "Oh,  no!"  "Trade?"  "Clerk."  "What  were  you  tried  for?"  "Embezzle- 
ment" "  That  will  do,  you  can  go  back,"  said  the  officer;  and  then  turning  to  the  entering 
clerk,  he  added,  "  mth  hard  labour."  As  the  prisoner  heard  this  addition,  he  stopped  at 
the  door  and  remarked,  "I  thought  it  was  without  labour;"  but  the  officer  dispelled  his 
hopes  by  repeating,  "  with  hard  labour." 

All  the  prisoners  had  to  answer  to  similar  questions,  all  equally  short,  but  often  the 
replies  were  long,  and  a  kind  of  cross-examination  was  required  before  a  decisive  answer 
could  be  elicited. 

A  nattily  dressed  lad,  who  had  a  groom's  look  about  him,  said  that  he  had  been  com- 
mitted " on  suspicion."  "That  won't  do,"  exclaimed  the  officer,  "try  and  remember." 
"  That's  what  it  was,  sir,"  the  man  maintained.     "  Didn't  you  steal  some  tools  ?"     "  Yes, 

sir,  but ^"     "  There,  no  '  buts'  about  it,"  answered  the  chief  warder,  who  directed  the 

clerk  to  write  down  "  stealing  tools." 

We  felt  sorry  for  one  of  the  lads,  a  modest,  weU-spoken  boy,  who  kept  his  eyes  on  the 
ground,  and  replied  in  a  low  voice,  as  if  ashamed.     He  gave  the  name  of  "  Smith,"  and,  as 
the  officer  remarked  when  the  youth  had  left  the  office,  "  it  was  evidently  not  his  proper 
name; "  and  then  he  added,  knowingly,  "  All '  Smiths*  are  doubtful." 
21» 


296  THE  QEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

One  youth,  with  closely  cut  hair,  and  protruding  ears,  when  asked  whether  he  had  ever 
been  in  prison  before,  without  the  leajst  hesitation  replied,  ''Neyer,  s'elp  me!"  ''I  know 
better,  replied  the  warder,  looking  earnestly  at  him.  'Tm  sure  Ihayen't,"  continued  the  lad, 
with  an  innocent  expression  of  fetoe.  ''We'll  see  whether  some  of  the  officers  will  recognise 
you,"  said  the  examiner.  "  But  it  wasn't  for  felony,  sir,''  muttered  the  lad,  who  plainly  sow 
that  further  concealment  was  of  no  avail. 

The  lame  man  with  the  crutch  was  there  for  highway  robbery.  A  cripple  footpad  seemed 
strange  enough.  **  What  did  you  steal  ?"  asked  the  warder.  "  Three  pound,  I  think,  the 
said  I  took  off  her,"  was  the  reply  that  explained  the  mystery  of  his  success.  This  fellow 
was  nervous  when  he  gave  his  replies,  so  that  when  asked,  ''What  religion  ?"  he  answered, 
"  Carpenter." 

The  soldier,  and  two  others,  were  sent  to  prison  for  stealing  a  watch  in  a  akittle-aUey. 
He  forgot  his  age,  and  made  himself  a  year  older  than  when  at  Newgate.  A  man  in  a 
brown  Holland  smock  had  stolen  a  sheep,  and  the  one  with  the  conical  head  had  purloined 
photographic  lenses.  This  boy  answered  so  sharply  to  the  questions,  that  when  he  had  gone 
all  the  clerks  exclaimed  that  tiiey  had  never  seen  anybody  "  so  cool."  The  youth  with  the 
dark  Spanish  complexion  had  been  indicted,  together  wil^  his  brothers,  for  perjury. 

When  the  examinations  were  finished,  the  governor  came  to  look  over  the  list,  and  then 
addressing  the  wretched  band,  he  said,  "  Now,  my  men,  we  shall  be  some  time  together,  and 
I  hope  you  will  attend  to  the  rules  of  the  prison.  You'll  find  it  more  comfortable  to  your- 
selves to  obey  the  officers !"  And,  the  harangue  concluded,  a  warder  led  the  poor  wretches  off 
to  the  dressing-room,  where,  after  bathing,  they  would  have  to  exchange  the  dothee  they 
wore  for  the  prison  costume. 

%♦  Vistts  of  Prison&r8*  Friends, — ^Presently  we  had  an  opportunity  of  being  present 
during  the  visits  paid  to  the  prisoners  by  their  friends.  "Two  relations  or  respectable 
Mends,"  say  the  prison  rules,  "  may  visit  a  prisoner,  in  the  presence  of  an  officer,  at  the 
end  of  every  three  months,  between  the  hours  of  ten  and  twelve." 

AU  prisoners,  on  entering  Goldbath  Fields,  cease  to  be  called  by  their  names,  but  are 
christened  with  a  number  instead.  When  a  relation  or  friend  calls  at  the  jail  on  the  day 
appointed  for  visiting,  the  criminal  is  asked  for  by  the  number  he  bears.  The  officer,  to  find 
out  which  is  the  man's  yard,  goes  to  a  huge  tablet,  almost  as  lai^  as  the  top  of  a  kitchen 
table,  and  this  is  a  kind  of  ledger  or  stock-book  of  the  men  in  custody.  It  is  ingeniously 
contrived  in  this  manner :— The  numbers  from  1  to  1,500  are  engraved  on  the  zinc  plate 
forming  the  tablet,  and  against  each  number  is  a  small  moveable  slip  of  brass,  as  big  as  a  key- 
label,  on  which  is  marked  the  yard  and  prison  in  which  the  man  who  has  received  that 
number  is  located.  For  instance,  against  No.  1,230,  was  a  moveable  label  with  2  Y  60  stamped 
on  it ;  this  meant  that  the  culprit  stood  60th  in  the  2nd  yard  of  the  vagrant  prison ;  whilst 
No.  1,231  had  marked  on  the  brass  label  5  F  24,  implying  that  this  man  was  the  24th  prisoner 
in  the  5th  yard  of  the  felon  prison. 

There  are  two  arrangements  in  Goldbath  Fields  by  which  the  prisoners  are  permitted  to 
see  their  friends.  The  one  is  at  the  double  gate  bdfbre  the  building,  situate  between  the 
entrance  doors  and  the  main  prison,  and  the  other  is  at  a  place  built  for  the  purpose  in  the 
first  yard  of  the  vagrant  jail.  At  the  latter  a  series  of  niches  have  been  built  in  the  side 
wall,  each  one  just  large  enough  for  a  man  to  enter.  Through  gratings  the  priaonetB  can 
converse  with  their  visitors,  who  stand  in  almost  similar  niches,  separated  by  a  long  passage, 
where  a  warder  patrols.  The  gratings  before  the  visitors  are  almost  as  dose  as  net-'wods^  in 
order  to  prevent  anything  being  passed  to  the  inmates  of  the  jail.  Only  fifteen  minutes  are 
permitted  for  each  interview,  and,  for  the  correct  measurement  of  the  length  of  the  visit, 
hour-glasses  are  fastened  up  over  the  niches  appropriated  to  the  prisoners^  friends,  as  shown 
in  the  annexed  engraving.    The  moment  the  Mends  ftnd  the  prisoner  enter,  this  time-keeper 


HOUSE  OF  COBEECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS. 


IB  tamed,  and  as  soon  aa  the  sand  baa  ran  down,  all  conyersation  muet  ceaae  and  the  etrangeie 
dtpait.  An  officer  keeps  watch  the  while  b^  patroling,  as  we  said,  up  and  down  the 
puuge. 

A  maji  in  tlie  feloa'e  gray  was,  at  the  tune  of  our  uupecting  fhis  port  of  the  priaoD, 
diatdng  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  both  of  whom  were  respectably  dressed,  with  gold 
tiroocbea  to  fasten  their  shawls,  and  other  evidences  of  being  well-to-do  in  the  world.  This 
sun,  together  with  his  son,  was  in  prison  for  abduction ;  a  young  lady  of  property  haying 
been  carried  off  by  the  father,  and  forcibly  married  to  tho  youth. 

"  Bo  sore  and  let  Alfred  and  Arthur  go  to  school  and  learn  spelling — that's  most  essen- 
tisl,"  said  the  husband  to  his  wife,  who,  by  this  time,  seemed  quite  resigned  to  the  family 
"  nuafbrtnne." 

"  Prank's  at  work  in  a  good  dtuation,"  answered  the  woman.  And  so  they  continued 
chatting  over  the  family  matters  for  the  permitted  quarter  of  an  hour,  all  of  th^n  evidenfly 
mnoh  calmed  and  comforted  by  the  meeting. 

The  other  prisoner  was  one  belonging  to  the  poorer  class.  His  wife  wore  an  old  straw 
bonnet  that  had  turned  brown  as  pie-crust  with  wear,  and  ahe  frequently  raised  to  her  eyes 
a  pocket-handkerchief  rolled  up  as  small  as  an  orange,  with  which  she  dabbed  up  her  tears. 

"  Good-bye,  lore ! "  said  the  man,  when  his  time  was  np ;  "  good-bye,  dear,  and  get  sonie 
ituff  for  your  riienmatiz." 

The  handkerchief  went  up  to  the  poor  creature's  red  eyes  as  she  muttered  her  good-bye. 


298  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

She  stopped  to  see  him  look  roimd  once  more  as  he  entered  the  smaU  mckei-gate  of  the 
prison,  and  then  turned  round  and  crept  ojQf  homewards. 

In  the  afternoon  we  witnessed  a  scene  of  a  more  painful  and  less  fireqnent  occnrrenee 
than  that  of  visiting.  A  poor  lady  came  to  inquire  after  her  boy,  and  to  entreat  the  governor 
not  to  permit  him  to  leave  the  prison  until  she  herself  came  to  fetch  him,  lest  his  evil  com- 
panions should  once  more  entice  him  into  wickedness. 

Her  dress  and  manner  were  those  of  a  wealthy  and  educated  person.  Her  features  were 
distorted  with  grief,  which  every  now  and  then,  as  she  looked  up  at  the  small  grated  windows 
in  the  prison  walls,  seized  her  suddenly,  like  a  fit.  When  she  began  to  speak,  her  throat 
swelled  and  choked  the  words,  whilst  her  arms  trembled  tiU  her  loosely-hanging  bracelets 
clinked  with  the  motion. 

From  the  careless  manner  in  which  her  shawl  and  bonnet  were  pnt  on,  she  had  evidently 
come  out  in  a  hurry.  We  could  not  help  imagining  to  ourselves  that  perhaps  the  fetther  had 
sworn  that  the  boy,  who  had  disgraced  his  family,  shoidd  never  enter  his  house  again,  and 
forbidden  the  mother  £rom  visiting  him,  so  that  the  poor,  kind  soul  had  to  creep  out  on  the 
sly  whenever  she  wished  to  make  inqxdries  after  her  erring  child. 

''  I  am  his  mother,"  sobbed  ihe  lady,  when  the  governor  had  come  to  her ;  ''  I  am  his 
mother,  I  am  sorry  to  say." 

**  He  will  be  liberated  next  Tuesday  morning  at  half-past  nine/'  said  Captain  Colvillc ; 
"  but  I  will  manage  to  detain  him  here  until  the  others  have  left." 

''  Has  anybody  been  to  see  him,  sir  ?"  asked  the  mother,  with  evident  anxiety. 

The  answer  of  ''  Two  of  his  companions  have  been  here,"  seemed  to  cut  her  to  the 
heart. 

"  I'll  be  here  by  ten,  sir,"  she  added  after  a  time,  "  and  pray  don't  let  him  go  before 
that  time.    I  know  he  will  let  me  take  him,  if  there  is  no  one  to  tempt  him  away." 

The  governor,  who  was  evidently  much  interested  in  the  case,  accompanied  the  poor  lady 
to  the  gate,  and  by  his  gentleness  of  manner,  more  than  by  his  words,  showed  his  sympathy 
for  her  sufferings.  When  he  closed  the  prison-door,  he  drew  in  his  breath  as  if  he  felt  tho 
relief  of  having  accomplished  the  most  distressing  of  all  his  duties. 

This  lad,  we  learnt,  was  of  highly  respectable  parents,  and  had  fallen  into  evil  ways 
through  the  temptations  held  out  to  him  by  the  companions  he  had  met  with. 

\*  PrtMners'  Letters, — All  letters  sent  by  the  prisoners  to  their  friends  are  opened  by 
the  governor  before  they  leave  the  jail,  to  see  that  they  contain  nothing  but  matters 
relating  to  the  family  or  personal  business  of  the  writer.*  Some  of  the  men,  knowing  that 
their  epistles  are  sure  to  be  perused  by  the  governor,  endeavour,  as  is  usual  at  other  pnsons, 
to  win  his  good  opinion,  by  giving  to  their  compositions  a  religious  and  repentant  air,  in 
the  hope  of  easing  their  labours  and  bettering  their  position.    For  instance,  one  man  whom 

*  Every  letter  sent  by  a  prisoner  to  his  friends  has  the  following  printed  heading  :— 

From  No*    I^OQM  of  CDonectfsn, 

Admitted  on  the CoUl  IBatl  jf  UDni. 

and  who  will  be  diecharged  {probably  at  9  a.m.)  on  Ige 

*^ 

'  Thit  JVe.  to  b»  writtm  en  MUn  direem  to  Ihspriaimtr,  aitdioh$  tUUti  whm  mmUmg  imftrirtm  mbtmt  Mot. 

Prisoners  are  not  permitted  to  send  or  to  receive  more  thmt  one  letter  in  every  three  monthst  hsd  evemi*  of 
importance  to  prieoners  may  be  commmieated  by  Utter  {prepaid^  to  tlie  Govsbmob.  Lettere  to  or  fivm  primners 
are  read  be/ore  delivery;  they  should  not  exceed  a  sheet  of  Utter  paper^  legibly  written,  and  not  crosevd.  They 
must  contain  nothing  improper,  and  no  detailed  news  of  the  day.  Two  relations  or  respectabU  frionde  may  visit  a 
prisoner,  in  the  presence  of  an  officer,  at  the  end  of  every  three  months,  between  the  houre  of  tm  md  twehe 
[Sundays  excepted).     The  visit  lasts  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 

These  privileges  may  be  forfeited  by  mieeonduet, 

No  clothes,  books,  or  other  artides,  are  admitted  for  ike  uh  ofprieomre    etfoept  pottage  itampe  or  monty. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  m 

ve  saw  in  the  prison  had  been  a  cab  driyer ;  we  had  an  opportunity  of  Ustening  to  a 
conyersation  between  him  and  the  chief  authority.  He  had  a  fawning  manner  of  obse- 
qiiious  respect  that  at  first  made  us  fancy  he  was  some  felonious  footman.  When  we 
learnt  his  former  occupation,  his  mode  of  speaking  seemed  such  as  ''cabbies"  are  wont 
to  use  to  a  generous  fare;  but  there  was  nothing,  either  in  his  bearing  or  talk,  calcu- 
lated to  impress  us  with  the  notion  that  he  repented  his  transgression  and  was  seeking  the 
right  path.    From  a  letter  written  by  this  man  we  extract  the  following  passages : — 

**  Send  me  word  what  Eichard  is  doing,  and  whethear  Farthear  sends  bi'm  to  school,  for  i 
hope  they  do  not  let  him  Bun  the  streets,  for  there  is  no  good  to  be  found  there.  *  *  *  * 
This  is  a  finishing  school  for  me  for  i  hope  this  will  be  a  good  warning  to  me  for  the  future 
please  God  spare  me  to  come  home  again  i  shall  be  a  altard  man  please  Ood  i  can  get  some 
employment  and  have  my  Sunday  to  myself,  please  God  i  hope  i  shall  never  neglect  my 
going  to  church  for  i  am  sony  to  say  that  as  been  a  great  folly  on  my^part." 

****** 

Another  epistle  contained  the  following  piece  of  poetry : — 

"  Aunt  cousioB  and  fdends  for  a  short  time  adieu 
Once  more  I  bid  adieu  to  all  of  yon 
I  will  own  liberty  is  a  jewl 
"While  I  myself  have  been  a  fool 
My  tale  myself  I  will  unfold 
I  think  yon  will  say  in  sin  I  am  old 
****** 

0  that  I  ad  the  wings  of  a  dove 

1  would  begone  with  liberty  and  the  birds  above." 

A  third  letter,  evidently  from  an  old  offender,  contained  a  confession  of  repentance  which 
seemed  to  be  in  a  measure  true,  the  reasons  assigned  for  it  being  sufficient  and  convincing, 
though  hardly  to  be  received  as  signs  of  an  inward  change  of  character  :— 

"  I  assure  you  for  the  four  months  which  I  am  sentenced  to  at  this  prison  is  a  deal  more 
severe  than  it  was  at  hoUoway  for  I  had  to  work  no  treadwell  there,  which  I  find  is  the 
hardest  thing  that  I  have  to  do,  it  has  I  can  assure  you  learnt  me  a  lesson  I  never  shall 
fbiget,  and  will  never  again  do  anything  that  is  likely  to  get  me  here  again." 


0/  ''Sard''  and  ''Prison  Labour^ 

At  the  correctional  prisons,  labour,  especially  of  the  kind  called  "hardy^*  forms  part  of 
the  punishment  to  which  the  prisoners  are  condemned.  Out  of  the  7,743  persons  passing 
thnnigh  Coldbath  Fields  in  the  course  of  last  year,  4,511,  or  rather  more  than  58  per  cent., 
weie,  according  to  the  official  returns,  employed  at  "hard  labour;"  and  the  remaining 
3,232,  or  not  quite  42  per  cent.,  at  work  not  being  hard  labour.  We  have  already  given 
our  opinion  as  to  the  folly  of  endeavouring  to  refomr  a  habit  of  idleness  by  making  industry 
a  penal  infliction,  and  it  now  only  remains  for  us  to  show  the  nature  of  the  difierent  kinds 
of  labour  to  which  prisoners  are  subject,  when  condemned  to  the  hard  form  of  it. 

Ken  sentenced  to  hard  labour  at  Coldbath  Fields  are  employed  at : — 


Tread-wheel  work. 
Crank  Work. 
Shot  Drill. 


Picking  Oakum  (3^  lbs.  daily). 

Mat  Making. 

Washing. 


Cleaning. 
Tailoring. 
Shoemaking. 


300 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


Thero  are  likewise  other  handicrafts,  to  which  the  men  are  put  after  fhey  have  been  in  tlie 
prison  for  some  time,  provided  their  behayiour  has  been  good.* 

The  first  three  of  the  abore  forms  of  hard  labour  come  under  the  denomination  of  use- 
less or  profitless  work — ^being  work  for  mere  work's  sake,  applied  to  no  earthly  purpose  or 
object  whatever — ^the  very  worst  form  of  idleness,  viz.,  idleness  with  all  the  physical  fJEitagoo 
of  industry,  without  any  of  industry's  rewards ;  and  it  is  with  these  forms  of  work  more 
especially  that  we  intend  dealing  here.  "We  wish  it,  however,  to  be  distinctly  understood, 
that  in  tlie  remarks  it  will  be  our  duty  to  make  upon  this  form  of  "  correctionid  "  discipline, 
it  is  fai  from  being  our  intention  to  impute  the  least  blame  to  the  authorities  of  Coldbath 
Fields  prison.  It  is  the  ^jfstem  of  useless  labour  generally  that  appears  to  us  objectionable, 
and  not  the  mode  in  which  that  system  is  carried  out  by  the  officials  at  any  one  prison ;  for  the 
subjoined  strictures  are  as  applicable  to  aU  correctional  prisons  (with  the  exception  of  the 
Westminster  House  of  Correction)  as  they  are  to  Coldbath  Fields,  where  we  are  happy  to 
acknowledge  that  the  labour-punishment  is  enforced  by  the  governor  with  every  regard  to 
his  duty  at  once  to  the  public  and  the  prisoners. 

We  are  well  aware  of  the  difficulty  with  which  the  subject  of  prison  labour  in  general, 
and  that  of  houses  of  correction  in  particular,  is  beset ;  and  we  do  not  hesitate  to  allow 
that  it  would  be  wrong  and  unbecoming  in  the  prison  authorities  to  permit  prisoners  to 
pass  their  time  louting  about  in  idleness,  as  was  the  case  previous  to  the  invention  of  the 
tread-wheel.  We  are  well  aware,  too,  that  in  a  "  short-term  prison,"  where  some  of  the  men 
are  confined  for  only  a  few  days,  it  is  almost  ^tile  to  attempt  to  make  labour  profitable, 
owing  to  the  impossibility  of  teaching  the  majority  of  the  prisoners  any  handicraft  in  so 
short  a  space  of  time. 

We  are  well  aware,  moreoyer,  how  difficult  it  is  to  give  any  pecimiary  value  to  mere 
physical  exertion,  especially  in  towns  where  field  or  garden  work,  on  account  of  the  great 
value  and  scarcity  of  land,  cannot  be  adopted  on  any  large  scale ;  nevertheless,  if  it  oome  to  a 
choice  of  two  evils,  we  boldly  confess  we  prefer  idleness  itself  to  making  industry  uUe 
(because  useless),  and,  therefore,  hateM  in  every  prisoner's  eyes.  Besides,  what  nse&99iiy  is 
there  for  correctional  prisons  being  situate  in  towns,  where  they  are  as  much  out  of  plaoe 
as  churchyards^  and  where  prisoners  mwt  be  put  to  ** grind  the  wind"  simply  because  they 
camiot  be  put  to  till  the  land. 

The  late  governor  of  MiUbank  prison  (and  he  is  a  gentleman  whose  prison  experience 
extends  over  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century),  speaking  of  prison  labour,  told  us  that  "  it  is  a 
great  thing  to  make  a  prisoner  feel  that  he  is  employed  on  some  useful  work.    Nothing 

*  The  following  is  the  list  of  the  offences  which  are  usually  punished  with  bard  labour : — 


Abduction. 

Assaults,  unnatural. 

Assaults  on  women  and  children, 

with  intent. 
Assaults  on  police  constables. 
Attempt  at  burglary. 
Bestiality. 

Concealing  birth  of  child. 
Conspiracies  to  deiraud. 
Cruelty  to  animals  (either  with 

or  without  hard  labour). 
Cutting  and  maiming. 
Dog  stealing. 
Disorderly    apprentices    (either 

with  or  without  hard  labour). 
Excise  offences  (either  with  or 

without  hard  laoour). 
Embezzlement 
Felonies. 
False  characters. 
Frauds,  tried  at  Sessions. 


Frauds,   summarily  disposed  of 

(either  with  or  without  hard 

labour). 
Furious  driving,     insolence    to 

fares,    &c.    (either   with    or 

without  hard  labour). 
Illegally  pawning  (either  with 

or  without  hard  labour). 
Keeping  brothels. 
Keeping   gaming-house    (either 

with  or  without  hard  labour). 
Misdemeanours,     contempt     of 

court  (either  with  or  without 

hard  labour). 
Misbehaviour  in  workhouse. 
Kiots  and  assaults  (either  with 

or  without  hard  labour). 
Beceiving  embezzled  property. 
Selling   or    exposing    obscene 

prints. 
Simple  larceny. 


Stealing  fruit,  &c 
Threats  to  deter  workmen. 
Trespassing,    fishing,    poaehing, 

&o. 
Possession  of  base  coin. 
Unlawful  possession  of  pn^erty 

(with  or  without  hard  labour;. 
Unlawful  collection  of  dnat. 
Wilful  and  oorrupt  peiJQiy. 
Wilful  damage  (with  or  without 

hard  labour). 
Begging  or  sleeping  in  ogvk  air. 
Disorderly  prostitutes. 
Fortune-teUing. 
Gaming. 

Indecent  exposure  of  penon. 
Incorrigible  rogues. 
Leaving  families  chiigsaUc. 
Obtaining  hj  false  pretences. 
Beputed  thieres  and  suspected 

rogues. 


HOUSE  OP  COEKECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  301 

di^osts  a  man  and  makes  him  so  qnentlons,  as  to  let  him  know  that  he  is  labouring  and  yet 
doing  nothing — as  when  at  the  tread-wheel.  I  am  of  opinion/'  he  said,  ''that  to 
employ  men  on  work  which  they  know  and  see  is  useM,  has  the  best  possible  effect  npon 
their  characters,  and  much  increases  their  chances  of  reformation.  Every  other  kind  of 
labour  irritates  and  hardens  them.  After  twenty  thousand  prisoners  have  passed  through 
one's  hands,  one  must  have  had  some  little  experience  on  such  matters.  There  was  a  tread- 
wheel  on  the  premises  here  for  the  use  of '  penal '  or  '  second-probation  men/  and  those  only ; 
but  its  use  has  been  discontinued  for  some  months ;"  and  principally,  we  should  add,  owiug 
to  this  gentleman's  remonstrances. 

Every  man's  own  experience,  indeed,  can  tell  him  how  irksome  it  is  to  see  the  work  he 
has  done  prove  of  no  avail. 

All  human  beings,  we  are  bold  to  confess,  even  the  most  honest  and  industrious,  have  a 
natural  aversion  to  labour ;  indeed.  Scripture  teUs  us  that  the  necessity  for  it  as  a  means  of 
mere  existence  was  made  a  cutm — ''In  the  sweat  of  thy  face  shalt  thou  eat  bread."  If 
labour  were  naturally  pleasant,  men  would  pay  wages  to  be  allowed  to  work,  instead  of 
giving  money  to  others  to  work  for  them.  There  are  many  instances,  however,  where 
physical  exertion  m  agreeable,  and  then  we  do  not  hesitate  to  part  with  a  considerable  sum 
of  money  to  be  permitted  to  indulge  in  it,  as  in  dancing,  rowing,  cricketing,  and  other 
muscular  exercises,  which,  because  they  are  pleasing  to  mankind  in  general,  have  been  called 
"  mnutementi'*  and  ^*9porU" 

It  isy  therefore,  in  almost  every  case,  the  object  or  utility  of  the  labour  which  makes  it 
agreeable  to  us.  Some  doubt  whether  the  mere  labourer  takes  any  delight  in  his  work, 
though  we  fancy  that  even  the  bricklayer's  hodman  would  be  annoyed  at  having  the  bricks 
thrown  down  from  the  scaffold  as  fast  as  he  carried  them  up.  But  men  generally  work,  not 
for  any  delight  they  feel  in  the  work,  but  simply  to  obtain  food,  to  educate  their  children,  to 
provide  shelter  for  their  family,  and  to  supply  the  various  necessities  and  luxuries  of  life. 
In  but  a  very  few  instances  is  work  done  for  mere  work's  sake,  as  in  gardening,  amateur 
carpentering,  turning,  literature,  painting,  &o.,  &c. ;  but  even  in  these  cases,  men  undertake 
the  task,  not  so  much  for  the  sake  of  the  labour  as  from  a  delight  in  its  products  as  works  of 
art  or  utility,  and  from  the  pleasure  and  pride  they  feel  in  being  able  to  create  such  things. 
None  but  children  ever  build  up  walls  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  knocking  them  down  again,  and 
there  is  hardly  any  form  of  punishment  so  irritating  as  being  condemned  to  work  hard  at 
doing  something  which  leads  to  nothing.  Hence,  we  cannot  but  regard  tread-wheelB,  which 
are  intended  to  grind  nothing,  and  to  do  nothing;  and  cranks,  which  are  made  to  scoop  up  sand 
and  pitch  it  down  again;  and  shot-drill,  which  consists  in  transferring  cannon-balls  frt)m  one 
place  to  another,  for  no  earthly  use  whatever — ^but  as  inventions  based  upon  the  same  bar- 
barous principle  as  that  which  instituted  the  tortures  of  the  Inquisition,  rather  than  as 
enlightened  and  "  ehastewing  "  punishments. 

Now  the  evil  of  this  wele^s  hard  labour  springs  from  two  sources.  In  the  first  place, 
as  we  have  said,  the  labour  is  obliged  to  be  made  useless,  not  only  because  houses  of 
correction  are  short-term  prisons,  but  because  they  are  bmlt  in  cities ;  for  if  they  were 
erected  in  the  suburbs,  a  large  portion  of  land  might  be  attached  to  them,  and  the  prisoners 
profitably  employed  upon  market-gardening  or  field  labour— occupations  alike  healthM 
and  inspiriting,  and  requiring,  moreover,  no  previous  apprenticeship.  In  the  second  place,  the 
labour,  not  only  in  correctional  prisons,  but  even  in  all  others,  can  hardly  be  otherwise  than 
profitless  to  the  workman,  because  the  laws  which  regulate  the  world  outside  the  prison 
waUs  are  ess^itially  altered,  if  not  wholly  reversed,  truiide  of  them.  In  society,  every  man, 
unless  possessing  sufficient  means  to  live  in  ease,  is  obliged  to  labour  for  hia  subsistence,  and 
the  great  cares  of  life  among  the  poor  consist  chiefly  in  providing  for  the  morrow's  dinner, 
or  the  Saturday's  rent,  or  purchasing  clothes.  But  no  sooner  has  a  man  set  foot  within  a  prison 
fhan  aU  such  anxieties  cease.    There  the  rule  of  human  existence  is  no  longer  that  if  any  will 


302  THE  GBEAT  WORU)  OP  LONDON.. 

not  work  neither  shall  lie  eat,  as  Paul  says ;  for  in  a  jail  he  soon  becomes  aware  that  his  daily 
sustenance  is  in  no  way  dependent  upon  his  daily  labour.  Immediately  he  gets  within  the 
gates,  he  has  a  good  warm  suit  of  clothing  given  to  him ;  at  the  appointed  hour  his  dinner 
is  duly  served;  at  night&ll  a  comfortable  bed  is  provided  for  him;  and  alli  as  he  well 
knows,  without  being  contingent  upon  the  least  exertion  on  his  part ;  for  it  needs  no  one  to 
tell  him  that  the  tread-wheel  work,  and  crank-work,  and  shot-drill  have  nothing  at  all  to  do 
with  the  procuring  of  his  food,  and  that  really  none  of  these  are  sufficiently  valuable  even 
to  furnish  the  salt  he  consumes.  If  the  Almighty  ordained  that  labour  should  be  a 
curse,  at  least  He  attached  the  eating  of  our  bread  as  a  blessing  to  it.  But  in  prison  the 
sweat  of  the  brow  brings  no  food  as  its  reward;  and,  therefore,  the  labour  naturally 
becomes  most  intolerably  irksome  to  the  prisoner,  so  that  his  whole  nature  rebels  at  it;  and 
when  the  period  arrives  for  his  liberation,  he  has  not  only  learnt  to  eapped  his  food  to  be 
supplied  to  him  icMout  labouring  for  it,  but  he  has  also  learnt  to  look  upon  iniuUrjf  m  a 
jpunuh$nmt  that  he  is  bound  to  avoid  as  much  as  possible,  so  that  he  may  taste  the  sweets  of 
liberty.  Instead,  therefore,  of  having  increased  his  self-reliance,  of  having  taught  himthe 
very  lesson  which  of  all  others  he  required  most  to  leam,  viz.,  to  have  faith  in  his  own 
exertions — instead  of  having  inculcated  in  him  a  deep  and  abiding  sense  that  he  possesses 
in  himself  the  means  of  contributing  to  his  own  comfort  and  enjoyment  more  than  anybody 
else,  we  have  only  demonstrated  to  him,  during  his  incarceration,  that  it  is  ponihle  by  crime 
rather  than  industry  to  procure  a  month  or  two  of  good  wholesome  food  for  his  stomach,  warm 
clothing  for  his  body,  as  well  as  shelter  for  his  head. 

''Crime,"  said  the  constabulary  commissioners,  ''proceeds  from  a  desire  to  acquire  the 
good  things  of  this  world  with  a  less  degree  of  industry  than  ordinary  labour."  In  prison, 
therefore,  the  culprit  has  his  criminal  propensities  doubly  strengthened.  He  learns  there  not 
only  that  he  can  acquire  sufficient  to  satisfy  his  wants  without  any  industry  at  all,  but  also 
that  the  labour  which  he  wishes  to  avoid  is  even  more  irksome  and  useless  than  he  had 
fimcied  it  to  be. 

"But,  sir,"  said  the  governor  of  Coldbath  Fields  to  us,  "you  muit  deter  these  idle 
fellows  somehow." 

Our  forefeithers  thought  so  too,  and  accordingly  enacted,  in  the  year  1586  (27  Henry  VUl., 
e.  25),  that  a  "  sturdy  b^gar"  was  to  be  whipped  the  first  time  he  was  detected  b^ging, 
to  have  his  right  ear  cropped  for  the  second  offence,  and,  if  again  caught  begging,  to  be 
indicted  for  "wandering,  loitering,  and  idleness,"  when,  if  convicted,  he  was  "to  suffer 
execution  of  death  as  a  felon  and  an  enemy  to  the  commonwealth."  And  yet,  in  spite  of 
such  "deterrents,"  mendicity  and  vagabondage  not  only  continued,  but  increased. 

"Deter !"  exclaimed  the  chief  warder  of  the  prison  some  time  afterwards,  as  we  con> 
versed  with  him  upon  the  efficacy  of  punishments  in  general;  "  if  you  were  to  go  out  into 
the  streets  with  a  gallows  following  you,  sir,  and  hung  up  every  thief  and  rogue  you  met  by 
the  way,  you  wouldn't  deter  one  out  of  his  evil  courses." 

But  surely  the  number  of  re-commitments  every  year  (and  at  Coldbath  Fields  they 
amount  to  32^  per  cent,  of  the  entire  number  of  prisoners)  is  sufficient  to  show  that  the 
present  mode  of  reforming  idleness,  by  rendering  labour  more  than  ordinarily  repulsive  and 
utterly  useless,  has  been  found  positively  unavailing,  and  t/uU  after  more  than  two  and  a 
half  centuries'  trial  of  the  plan. 

There  is  but  one  way  that  we  see  of  doing  away  with  the  folly  and  wickedness  of  uselesB 
labour;  and  that  is,  by  returning  to  those  natural  laws  which  the  Almighty  has  laid  down 
for  the  regulation  of  human  life,  and  making  a  man*s  food  and  enjoyments,  whilst  in  prison, 
depend  upon  the  amount  of  work  he  does,  as  is  the  case  with  the  rest  of  the  world  oui  of  prison. 

No  man  can  accuse  us  of  a  want  of  consideration  for  the  feelings  and  rights  of 
prisoners  in  general,  and  it  is  because  we  are  anxious  to  win  criminals  to  a  sense  of  the 
utility  and  dignity  of  labour,  that  we  would  have  ever}'  man  placed,  on  his  entmng  a  jail, 


HOXISE  OF  COBRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  808 

upon  the  pimiBhinent  diet,  ue.,  his  deemosynary  allowance  of  food  should  be  only  a  pound 
of  bread  and  waterier  diem.  We  would  hefftn  at  this  point,  and  make  all  creature  comforts 
bepnd  it  purchasable,  as^it  were,  by  the  amount  of  labour  done,  instead  of  first  leading  the 
piisoner,  as  now,  to  believe  Ihat  he  is  entitled  to  receive  such  creature  comforts  without  work, 
and  being  afiencarde  obliged  to  resort  to  the  punishment  diet  as  a  means  of  enforcing  a  certain 
amount  of  work  itom  him. 

Thus,  the  enjoyments  obtained  by  the  labour  would  make  such  labour  desirable  rather 
than  hatefdl  to  the  prisoner,  and  so  teach  him  the  value  of  it. 

ThoB  B,^]^eanixiUB  i^  he  ihettatural  and  self-^^  and  until 

prison  authorities  have  the  courage,  and,  we  will  add,  the  humanity,  to  adopt  it,  in  the  teeth 
of  nustaken  sentimentality,  so  long  must  the  barbarism  of  grinding  the  wind,  and  crank- 
work,  and  shot-drill  continue,  and  continue,  too,  without  avail. 

\*  The  li'ead'tffhed. — We  have  before  (p.  288)  given  an  account  of  the  origin  of  the 
trcad-wheel,  stating  that  it  was  used  merely  to  employ  the  prisoners,  and  keep  them  from 
lonting  about  the  jail.  This  invention  was  introduced  at  most  of  the  prisons  more  than 
forty  years  ago,  but  the  machine,  with  but  few  exceptions,  has  never  been  applied,  even 
to  this  day,  to  any  useful  purpose.  The  prisoners  style  the  occupation  "grinding  the 
wind,"  and  that  is  really  the  only  denomination  applicable  to  it — the  sole  object  of  the 
labour  of  some  150  men,  employed  for  eight  hours  a  day,  being  simply  to  put  in  motion  a  big 
fan,  or  regulator,  as  it  is  called,  which,  impinging  on  the  air  as  it  revolves,  serves  to  add  to 
the  severity  of  the  work  by  increasing  the  resistance. 

There  are  six  tread-wheels  at  Coldbath  Fields,  four  in  the  felons'  and  two  in  the 
vagrants'  prison.  Each  of  these  is  so  constructed,  that,  if  necessary,  twenty-four  men  can  be 
employed  on  it ;  but  the  present  system  is  for  only  twelve  men  to  work  at  one  time.  At 
the  end  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour  these  twelve  men  are  relieved  by  twelve  others,  each  dozen 
hands  being  allowed  fifteen  minutes'  rest  between  their  labours.  During  this  interval  the 
prisoners  ofiT  work  may  read  their  books,  or  do  anything  they  like,  except  speak  with  one 
another. 

Each  wheel  contains  twenty-four  steps,  which  are  eight  inches  apart,  so  that  the  circum- 
ference of  the  cylinder  is  sixteen  feet.  These  wheels  revolve  twice  in  a  minute,  and  the 
mechanism  is  arranged  to  ring  a  beU  at  the  end  of  every  thirtieth  revolution,  and  so  to 
announce  that  the  appointed  epeU  of  work  is  finished.  Every  man  put  to  labour  at  the  wheel 
has  to  work  for  fifteen  quarters  of  an  hour  every  day.* 

Those  who  have  never  visited  a  correctional  prison  can  have  but  a  vague  notion  of 
a  tread-wheel.  The  one  we  first  inspected  at  Coldbath  Fields  was  erected  on  the  roof  of 
the  large,  cuddy-like  room  where  the  men  take  their  meals.  The  entire  length  of  the 
t^paratus  was  divided  into  twenty-four  compartments,  each  something  less  than  two  feet 
wide,  and  separated  from  one  another  by  high  wooden  partitions,  which  gave  them  somewhat 

*  The  ibiUowing  official  statement  as  to  the  sise  of  the  tread- wheel,  and  the  namber  of  reYolatioDS  made 
by  it,  as  well  as  the  groaa  height  of  the  ascent  performed  by  each  prisoner  workiiig  at  it,  has  been  fumiahed 
to  01  l>y  the  aathorities : — 

There  axe 24  steps  in  the  wheel. 

The  steps  are 8  laches  distant  from  each  other. 

S      ,       '.       '.       \       ',       I        16  feet     t  ^  ^®  circumference  of  the  whceli 
The  wheel  performs  ....       30  revolutions  in  each  J  of  an  hour. 

And  therefore  each  man  on  it  ascends     480  feet  in  }  of  an  hour* 
Each  man  works  altogether  IS  quarters  of  an  hour  a  day. 

And  so  ascends  in  all  •    7200  feet  or  2400  yards  szveryneariyl  mile  3  fiirionge  per  diem. 


304  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

of  the  appearance  of  the  staUs  at  a  public  urinal.  The  boards  at  the  back  of  these  compart* 
ments  reach  to  within  four  feet  of  the  bottom^  and  through  the  unboarded  space  protrudes 
the  barrel  of  the  wheel,  striped  with  the  steps,  which  are  like  narrow  '*  floats"  to  a  long 
paddle-wheel. 

When  the  pnsoner  has  mounted  to  his  place  on  the  topmost  step  of  the  wheel,  he  has  the 
same  appearance  as  if  he  were  standing  on  the  upper  side  of  a  huge  garden-roller,  and  some- 
what resembles  the  acrobat  we  haye  seen  at  a  circus,  perched  on  the  cask  that  he  causes  to 
revolve  imder  his  feet. 

All  the  men  work  with  their  backs  toward  the  warder,  supporting  themselves  by  a 
hand-rail  flxed  to  the  boards  at  the  back  of  each  compartment,  and  they  move  their  legs  as  if 
they  were  mounting  a  flight  of  stairs ;  but  with  this  difference,  that  instead  of  their  ascend- 
tnff,  the  steps  pass  from  under  them,  and,  as  one  of  the  officers  remarked,  it  is  this  peculiarity 
which  causes  the  labour  to  be  so  tiring,  owing  to  the  want  of  a  firm  tread.  The  sight  of  the 
prisoners  on  the  wheel  suggested  to  us  the  idea  of  a  number  of  squirrels  working  outBide 
rather  than  inside  the  barrels  of  their  cages. 

Only  every  other  man,  out  of  the  twenty-four  composing  the  gang  on  the  wheel,  work  at  the 
same  time,  each  alternate  prisoner  resting  himself  while  the  others  labour.  When  we  were  at 
the  prison,  some  of  those  off  work,  for  the  time  being,  were  seated  at  the  bottom  of  their  com- 
partments reading,  with  the  book  upon  their  knees ;  others,  from  their  high  place,  were 
looking  listlessly  down  upon  some  of  their  fellow-prisoners,  and  who  were  at  exercise  in  the 
yard  beneath,  going  through  a  kind  of  ''follow  my  leader"  there.  In  the  meantime,  those 
labouring  in  the  boxes  on  the  wheel  were  Hfting  up  their  legs  slowly  as  a  horse  in  a  ploughed 
field,  while  the  thick  iron  shaft  of  the  machinery,  showing  at  the  end  of  the  yard,  was 
revolving  so  leisurely,  that  we  expected  every  moment  to  see  it  come  to  a  stand-still.  We 
soon  learnt  that ''  grinding  the  wind"  was  such  hard  labour,  that  speed  could  not  be  given,  to 
the  motion  of  the  machine. 

Whilst  we  were  looking  on,  the  bell  rang,  marking  the  thirtieth  revolution,  and  instantly 
the  wheel  was  stopped,  and  the  hands  were  changed.  Those  whose  turn  it  was  to  rest 
came  down  from  the  steps  with  their  faces  wet  with  perspiration  and  flushed  with  exercise ; 
while  the  others  shut  up  their  books,  and,  pulling  off  their  coats,  jumped  up  to  their  posts. 
There  they  stood  until,  at  the  word  of  command,  all  the  men  press^down  together,  and  the 
long  barrel  once  more  began  to  turn  slowly  round. 

Those  who  left  the  wheel  sat  down,  and,  taking  out  their  handkerchiefB,  commenced 
wiping  the  perspiration  from  their  necks  and  foreheads.  One  man  unbuttoned  his  shirt- 
coUar,  but  in  a  moment  the  eye  of  the  warder  was  upon  him. 

'*  Fasten  up  your  collar,  you  there,"  he  shouted,  **  and  throw  your  coat  over  your  shoul- 
ders." Then  turning  to  us,  he  added,  ''  They  are  liable  to  catch  cold,  sir,  if  they  sit  with 
their  bosoms  es^sed." 

We  inquired  if  the  work  was  very  laborious,  and  received  the  following  explanation. 
*'  Tou  see  the  men  can  get  no  firm  tread  like,  from  the  steps  always  sinking  away  from  under 
their  feet,  and  that  makes  it  very  tiring.  Again,  the  compartments  are  small,  and  the  air 
becomes  very  hot,  so  that  the  heat  at  the  end  of  the  quarter  of  an  hour' renders  it  difficult 
to  breathe." 

We  were  also  assured  that  the  only  force  required  to  move  the  tread- wheel  itself  is  that 
necessary  to  start  the  machine,  and  that  when  once  the  regulator,  or  fan,  begins  to  revolve, 
scarcely  any  exertion  is  necessary  to  keep  it  in  motion.  Nevertheless,  the  power  that  has  to 
be  continually  exercised,  in  order  that  the  prisoners  may  avoid  sinking  with  the  wheel,  is 
equal  to  that  of  ascending  or  lifting  a  man's  own  weight,  or  140  lbs. ;  and  certainly  the 
appearance  of  the  men  proved  that  a  quarter  of  an  hour  at  such  work  is  sufficient  to  exhaust 
the  strongest  for  the  time  being. 

Another  proof  of  the  severity  of  the  tread- wheel  labour  is  shoim  by  the  Qumerous 


HOUSE  OF  COBILEGTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  305 

sabterfoges  resorted  to  by  the  men  as  a  means  of  getting  quit  of  the  work ;  either  they  feign 
illneBS  or  else  maim  the  body,  in  order  to  escape  the  task.  In  the  course  of  last  year, 
according  to  the  surgeon's  printed  report,  there  were  no  less  than  3,972  such  oases  of 
''feigned  complaints." 

"We  were  compelled,"  writes  Mr.  Chesterton,  the  late  gOTemor,  ''  to  Hmit  the  quantity 
of  water,  otherwise  many  would  drink  it  to  excess,  purposely  to  disorder  the  system.  In 
like  numner  did  we  narrowly  watch  the  salt,  else  inordinate  saline  potations  would  be 
swallowed,  expressly  to  derange  the  stomach.  Soap  would  be  'pinched'  (t.^.,  a  piece  would 
be  pinched  out),  and  rolled  into  pills,  in  order  to  found  the  plaint  of  diarrhosa.  lime 
white  would  be  applied  to  the  tongue,  and  any  avaiLable  rubbish  bolted  to  force  on  a 
momentary  sickness.  Daring  youths,  who  winced  not  at  pain,  were  constantly  in  the  habit 
of  making  '  foxes'  (artificial  sores),  and  then,  by  an  adroit  fSaU,  or  an  intentional  contact 
with  the  revolying  tread-wheel,  would  writhe  and  gesticulate  to  give  colour  to  their  deoep* 
tion.  The  term  'fox'  signifies  wilful  abrasion  of  the  ekm,  or  laceration  of  the  flesh,  and  the 
wounds  sometimes  inflicted  led  us  to  marvel  how  any  rational  being  could  voluntarily 
court  so  much  torture,  rather  than  heartily  perform  a  practical  task  and  continue  sound 
and  active." 

Sorely,  when  we  read  of  such  self-tormenting  deceptions  as  the  above,  we  need  no  better 
proof  of  the  ineflicacy  of  these  degrading  penal  instruments,  which  have  been  disguised 
under  the  name  of  industrial  machines.  How  is  it  possible  that  a  youth  should,  on  being 
liberated,  seek  to  earn  his  living  by  toil,  when  his  prison  experience  has  fllled  him  with 
Bach  a  dread  of  it,  that  he  will  prefer  no  slight  amount  of  self-imposed  pain  to  the  perform- 
ance of  his  daily  task  at  '^grinding  the  wind."  Is  it  not  evident  that  to  such  persons  a 
fbroed  sickness  or  a  voluntary  wound  must  have  caused  them  less  suffering  IJian  that  of  the 
"  wheel,"  else  why  have  preferred  bodily  laceration  to  muscular  exercise  ?  Surely,  all  but 
the  fatuous-minded  must  agree  with  the  remark  in  the  Government  Beport  of  the  Home 
Inspectors  of  Prisons,  for  1838,  which,  speaking  of  the  correctional  treatment  of  the  cri- 
minal, says — '*  The  prison  either  leaves  him  to  all  the  baneful  effects  of  utter  idleness,  or 
else  its  ^dscipline  consists  in  teaching  him  to  tread  the  wheel,  an  employment  which  ie  enough 
to  make  him  avoid  aU  labour  to  the  end  of  hie  daysP 

That  the  labour  of  the  tread- wheel  is  excessive,  is  proved  by  the  &ct  that  the  gross 
amount  of  exertion  required  for  the  day's  work  of  four  hours  and  three-quarters,  at  Coldbath 
Fields  prison,  consists  in  a  man  having  to  raise  himself  (•'.«.,  a'weight  of  140  lbs.)  to  a  height 
of  7,200  feet,  or  through  a  perpendicular  space  of  one  mile  and  three  furlongs  in  length;  and 
it  will  be  seen  below  that  a  bricklayer's  hodman,  even  at  his  hardest  work,  when  carrying 
bricks  to  the  top  of  an  ordinary  scaffold,  does  not  ascend  altogether  to  a  height  beyond  that 
of  the  workers  at  the  tread-wheel.*  True,  he  has  his  load  to  carry  up  in  addition  to  his  own 

*  The  sabjoined  statement  will  enable  the  leader  to  compare  the  labour  of  the  tread- wheel  with  that  of 
some  of  the  severer  forms  of  work  performed  by  ordinary  labourers. 

A  ten-roomed  house  is,  measuring  from  the  pavement  to  the  ooping-stone,  about  36  feet  high,  and 
the  bricklayer's  labourer  will,  when  busy,  ascend  to  this  elevation  on  the  average  twenty  times  an  hour, 
or  200  times  in  a  day's  work  of  ten  hours.  The  weight  of  an  ordinary  hod  is  14  lbs.,  and  the  brioks  with 
which  it  is  filled,  about  72  lbs. ;  thus  a  bricklayer's  labourer  will,  in  the  course  of  the  day's  work,  ascend  to  a 
height  of  7,200  feet,  or  very  nearly  1  mile  8  furlongs,  carrying  with  him  a  weight,  in  addition  to  that  of  his 
ovn  body  (which  may  be  taken  on  an  average  at  140  lbs.),  equal  to  86  lbs.,  or  about  that  of  a  nine-gallon 
cask  of  beer,  and  will  descend  the  same  distance,  carrying  with  him  14  lbs.  weight 

The  men  suffer  from  a  pain  in  the  chest  from  the  stooping  position  they  are  obliged  to  adopt  in  order  to 
keep  the  load  on  the  shoulder  whilst  mounting.  A  master  informed  us  that  a  hodman  is  not  fit  for  the  ladder 
after  he  is  forty  years  of  age. 

The  €oalwlwpp9T9  generally  work  in  gangs  of  nine.  During  their  labour  of  whipping  the  coals  from  the 
hold  of  the  ooUiersin  the  river,  they  raise  during  the  day  1}  cwt.  (or  18]  lbs.  for  each  man)  very  nearly 
es£jht  miles  high,  or  four  times  as  high  as  a  balloon  ordinarily  mounts  in  the  air}  and,  in  addition  to  this 


806  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

weight,  but  then  few  of  these  men  are  able  to  continue  at  the  occupation  when  past  forty 
years  of  age ;  and  we  ourselves  know  one  or  two  liberated  prisoners  who  have  been  laid  up 
with  feyer,  owing  to  excessive  labour  at  the  wheel.  The  very  &ct,  indeed,  of  the  prison 
rules  forbidding  men  to  unfasten  their  shirt-coUars,  after  their  work  at  the  wheel,  shows  that 
the  authorities  themselves  are  well  aware  that  the  labour  has  at  least  a  tendency  to  induce 
severe  iUness ;  and  yet  this  is  considered  by  some  wiseacres  to  be  the  best  means  of  teaching 
men  the  beauty  and  utility  of  industry. 

Assuredly  there  is  no  place  so  remarkable  as  a  prison  for  its  utter  ignorance  of  human 

nature,  as  well  as  its  gross  violation  of  all  those  laws  which  Omniscience  has  instituted  as 

• 

the  ooalwhippen  themselves,  in  ninning  up  the  steps  of  an  apparatas  which  they  call  a  "  way,"  ascend  rather 
more  than  1^  mile  perpendicularly  in  the  course  of  the  day's  work.  On  some  days,  when  there  is  a  streas 
of  business,  they  perform  double  this  labour. 

Dr.  Carpenter  (following  the  details  giren  by  the  author  of  this  work  while  writing  for  the  Mcrm$tf 
ChronieU)  cites  the  labour  performed  by  the  "  eoalbaek$r^*  in  raising  the  coal  from  the  hold  of  a  ship  as  the 
most  yiolent  that  can  be  performed  by  man. 

These  men  are  engaged  in  carrying  coals  on  their  Sack  from  the  ships  and  craft  moored  outside  the  wharves, 
and  placing  them  in  the  waggons.  The  sack  and  the  coals  together  usually  weigh  288  lbs.,  and  the  depth  of 
the  hold  of  the  vessels  whence  they  are  raised,  average  from  16  to  20  feet.  The  burthen  is  carried  this 
height  up  a  ladder  from  the  hold  to  the  deck,  and  the  ship  is  usually  from  60  to  80  feet  removed  frt>m  the 
waggon.  Each  man  ascends  this  height  and  travels  this  distance  about  ninety  times  a  day ;  hence  he  will 
lift  himself,  with  2  cwt.  of  coals  and  a  sack  weighing  14  lbs.  on  his  back,  1,440  feet  at  the  lowest  calculation, 
or  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  high  (i. «.,  three  and  a  half  times  the  height  of  St.  Paul's),  in  twelve 
hours ;  and,  besides  this,  he  will  travel  6,300  feet,  or  more  than  1}  mile,  carrying  the  same  weight  as  he 
goes,  and  returning  and  descending  through  the  same  space  after  getting  rid  of  his  burthen.  The  labour  is 
Tcry  hard,  and  there  are  few  men  who  can  continue  at  it  Many  of  the  heartiest  of  the  men  are  knocked 
up  by  the  bursting  of  blood-vessels  and  other  casualties,  and  even  the  strongest  cannot  keep  at  the  labour 
for  three  days  together. 

The  following  is  a  summary  of  the  above  facts,  showing  the  power  of  an  average  man,  as  well  as  the 
intensity  of  the  labour  performed  by  each  of  the  working  men  above-mentioned,  in  comparison  with  tread- 
wheel  work.    Thus : — 

lbs.     In.  Seo.  Ft.  Hrs.     MiiL.     See. 

An  ordinary  man  can  support  on )  oqa 

his  shoulders  .        .     ) 

An  ordinary  man  can  lift  with )  ^^^ 

both  hands         .        .        .     j  ^"^^ 
An  ordinary  man  can  lift  100    12high  in    1  of  time. 

Therefore — 

A  bricklaver's  labourer  can  raise  ) 
himself,  and  86  lbs.  besides,  or  [226      6)  „    „    1       „    which  is  at  the  rate  of  72C0  in    4        31        42 
altogether  .        .        .        .     ) 

A  ooalwhipper  can  raise  him-)  ,,^      „,  ,  -«^^ 

self,  or      .        .        .        .     jl^O      8J  „    „     1  „  „  7200,,    2        49        25 

A  prisoner  on  the  tread-wheel)  , ._      _.  ,  ^^^^         „ 

ckn  raise  himself,  or  .        .     |  140      8j  „    „     1  „  „  7200  „    2        49        2o 

A  coalbaoker  can  raise  himself) 
and  238  lbs.  besides,  or  alto-  [  378      3^  „    „    1  „  „  1440  „    1        30  0 

gether    .        .        .        .        ) 

Hence  it  will  be  seen,  that  were  the  »am$  power  exerted  by  all  of  the  above  labourers  alike,  the  ascent  of 
the  bricklayer^s  hodman  would  require  about  thrice,  and  that  of  the  ooalwhipper,  as  well  as  the  prisoner  on 
the  tread-wheel,  about  twiee,  as  long  a  period  for  the  work  as  that  of  the  coalbaoker;  but  as  the  tasks  are  one 
and  all  completed  in  the  tame  epaee  of  ttms,  i.  e.,  in  one  day's  labour,  it  follows  that  the  hodman,  though 
carrying  a  lighter  weight  than  the  backer,  but  ascending  to  a  greater  height,  performs,  while  rising,  a  task 
which  requires  the  exercise  of  thriee  as  much  power  as  that  of  the  coalbacker,  in  order  to  be  aocompliahed  in 
the  same  period ;  whilst  the  ooalwhipper  and  tread- wheel  worker,  for  a  similar  reason,  exeidse  twice  as  mnch 
power  as  the  backer,  so  that  the  ascending  labour  of  the  hodman  is  thrice  as  great,  and  that  of  the  whipper 
and  man  on  the  tread- wheel  twice  as  great,  as  that  of  the  coalbacker. 

It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  ascending  with  such  a  load  forms  only  one  portion  of  the  coal- 
backer's  labour;  for,  in  addition,  he  has  to  carry  his  burthen  moro  than  Ij  mile. 


/" 


N 


. 


ell 

no  f 

Hi 
I  1 


\ 


/• 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTIOir,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  30V 

motivee  to  mankind — no  pl&oe  where  ihera  is  so  Utth  visdom  di^l&yed,  and  y«t  none  whan 
m  mwh  is  requiicd. 

\*  7%t  TVeM^-wAMJ  Fan.-'AM  we  wero  leaving  Hie  gate  we  osught  eight,  Ibr  the  flnt 
time,  of  an  immenae  machine  situated  in  the  pared  cotirt,  which  leads  from  tlie  main  or 
felmu*  [ffison  to  that  of  the  vagrants'.  In  the  centre  of  a  mound,  shaped  like  a  pyramid,  aad 
iriuxe  alato  coreriog  and  kad-bonnd  edges  resemble  a  roof  placed  on  the  ground,  standi  a 
^Mog  inn  shaft,  on  the  top  of  which  is  a  tuoisontal  beam  some  twenty  feet  long,  and  with 
three  Tenetian-blind-like  &ns  standing  up  at  ei&er  end,  and  which  vaa  revolving  at  audi  a 
rapid  pace  that  the  cuirent  of  air  cieatod  by  it  blew  the  hair  Ihmi  the  temples  each  time  it 
whined  past. 

This  is  what  is  oolled  the  regulator  of  the  tread-wheel.    By  this  apparatus  the  raeistaiioe 


THE  TBEAD. WHEEL  KAN. 

y  tor  rendering  the  tiead- wheel  hard  labour  is  obtained.  Withoat  it  no  opposition 
would  be  offered  to  tJbe  revolutions  of  the  wheel ;  for,  ae  that  power  is  applied  to  no  useful 
poipoee,*  the  only  thing  which  it  is  mode  to  grind  is,  as  the  prisoners  themselvee  say, 
"  the  wind."  Another  method  of  increasing  the  resistance  of  this  "  regulator"  oonsiits  in 
applying  to  it  the  apparatus  termed  by  engineers  a  "  governor."  If  the  regulator  revolve*  too 
quickly,  Qie  governor,  similar  in  action  and  piinoiple  to  that  of  a  steam-engine,  flies  open 
from  the  increased  centrifugal  force,  and  by  meens  of  cog-wheels  and  levers  doses  the  &ns  at 
the  end  of  the  beams,  thus  offering  a  greater  resistance  to  the  air,  and,  consequently,  increasiog 
tlte  labour  of  the  prisonon  working  at  the  wheel. 

*«*  Crani-laioMr. — SometimeB  a  prisoner,  tiredof  working  at  the  tread-wheel,or  fatigued 

■  We  wero  sHured  tlut  sdvertiiemeals  hire  often  bsea  ioserted  in  the  jonnula,  oftring  to  letse  tbe 

tead-mill  powar,  bnt  witbant  sny  reeult. 


808  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

with,  the  monotony  of  working  at  his  trade  as  a  tailor  or  cobbler,  will  complain  of  liome 
ailment,  sucli  as  pains  in  the  back  or  chest,  thereby  hoping  to  obtain  a  change  of  labour. 
In  such  instances  the  man  is  sent  to  the  surgeon  to  be  examined.  K  he  be  really  ill,  he  is 
ordered  rest ;  but  if,  as  often  happens,  he  is  *'  merely  shamming,"  then  he  is  sent  back  to  his 
former  occupation.  Should  he  still  continue  to  complain,  he  is  set  to  crank-labour,  and  it 
is  said  that  after  a  couple  of  days  at  this  employmant,  the  most  stubborn  usually  aak  to 
return  to  their  previous  occupation. 

Crank-labour  consists  in  making  10,000  reyolutions  of  a  machine,  resembling  in  appear- 
ance a  ''  Kent's  Patent  iKnife-cleaner,"  for  it  is  a  narrow  iron  drum,  placed  on  legs,  with 
a  long  handle  on  one  side,  which,  on  being  turned,  causes  a  series  of  cups  or  scoops  in 
the  interior  to  revolve.  At  the  lower  part  of  the  interior  of  the  machine  is  a  thick  lay^  of 
sand,  which  the  cups,  as  they  come  round,  scoop  up,  and  carry  to  the  top  of  the  wheel, 
where  they  throw  it  out  and  empty  themselves,  after  the  principle  of  a  dredging-machine. 
A  dial-plate,  fixed  in  front  of  the  iron  drum,  shows  how  many  revolutions  tho  machine  has 
made. 

It  is  usual  to  shut  up  in  a  cell  the  man  sent  to  crank-labour,  so  that  the  exercise  is 
rendered  doubly  disagreeable  by  the  solitude.  Sometimes  a  man  has  been  known  to  smash 
the  glass  in  front  of  the  dial-plate  and  alter  the  hands ;  but  such  cases  are  of  rare  occur- 
rence. 

As  may  be  easily  conceived,  this  labour  is  very  distressing  and  severe ;  but  it  is  seldom 
used,  excepting  as  a  punishment,  or,  rather,  as  a  test  of  feigned  sickness.  A  man  can  make,  if 
he  work  with  ordinary  speed,  about  twenty  revolutions  a  minute,  and  this,  at  1,200  the 
hour,  would  make  his  task  of  10,000  iums  last  eight  hours  and  twenty  minutes. 

\*  Shot-drill. — ^This  most  peculiar  exercise  takes  place  in  the  vacant  ground  at  the 
back  of  the  prison,  where  an  open  space,  some  thirty  feet  square  and  about  as  large  as  a 
racket-court,  has  been  set  apart  for  the  purpose,  on  one  side  of  the  plantations  of  cabbages 
and  peas.  There  is  no  object  in  this  exercise  beyond  that  of  fatiguing  the  men  and  rendering 
their  sojourn  in  the  prison  as  unpleasant  as  possible. 

We  first  saw  this  drill-ground  whilst  making  the  round  of  the  prison  gardens.  The 
ground  had  been  strewn  with  cinders,  which  gave  it  the  loose,  black  appeai:ance  of  bog  earth; 
and  surrounded  as  it  was  by  the  light-brown  mould  of  the  cabbage  rows,  it  seemed  like  a  patch 
of  different  material  let  into  the  soil,  as  though  the  land  had  been  pieced  and  repaired  like  a 
beggar^s  coat.  Along  three  sides  of  this  square  were  as  many  rows  of  large  cannon  balls, 
placed  at  regular  distances,  and  at  the  two  ends  were  piled  up  pyramids  of  shot,  those  at 
the  base  being  prevented  from  rolling  out  of  their  places  by  a  frame  of  wood.  It  was  diffi* 
cult  to  tell  whether  the  cannon  balls  so  spaced  out  had  been  left  after  some  game  at  bowls, 
or  whether  the  qpot  had  been  cleared  for  action  like  the  deck  of  a  man-of-war,  wit^  the 
■hot  ready  for  ithe  guns.  We  took  up  one  of  these  balls  to  examine  ity  and  were  sorpriaed 
at  its  weight;  for,  although  not  larger  than  a  cocoa-nut,  it  required  a  considerable  eflSart 
to  lift  it. 

The  shot-drill  takes  place  every  day  at  a  quarter-past  three,  and  continues  untQ  half- 
past  four.  All  prisoners  sentenced  to  hard  labour,  and  not  specially  excused  by  the  suigeon, 
attend  it;  those  in  the  prison  who  are  exempted  by  the  medical  officer  wear  a  yellow  mark 
on  the  sleeve  of  their  coat.  Prisoners  above  forty-five  years  of  age  are  generally  excused, 
for  the  exercise  is  of  the  severest  nature,  and  none  but  the  strongest  can  endure  it.  The 
number  of  prisoners  drilled  at  one  time  is  fifty-seven,  and  they  generally  conaist  of  the  young 
and  hale. 

The  men  are  ranged  so  as  to  form  tiiree  sides  of  a  square,  and  stand  three  deep,  each 
prisoner  being  three  yards  distant  fr^m  his  fellow.  This  equidistance  gives  them  the 
appearance  of  chess-men  set  out  on  a  board.    All  the  faces  are  turned  towards  the  warder. 


EOXTSE  OF  COBSECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELBS.  «0» 

wlio  oocapies  a  stand  in  the  centre  of  the  open  aide-  of  the  square.  The  exercise  consists  in 
passing  the  shot,  composing  the  pyramids  at  <Mie  end  of  the  line,  down  the  entire  length  of 
the  ranks,  one  after  another/iintil  they  have  all  been  handed  along  the  file  of  men,  and  piled 
up  into  similar  pyramids  at  the  other  end  of  the  line ;  and  when  that  is  done,  the  operation 
is  reversed  and  the  cannon  balls  passed  back  again.  Bmt  what  ccmstitutes  the  chief  labour 
of  the  drill  is,  that  every  prisoner,  at  the  word  of  command,  haA  to  bend  down  and  eareftdly 
deposit  the  heavy  shot  in  a  particular  place,  and  then^  on  another  signal,  to  stoop  a  second 
time  and  raise  it  up.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  anything  more  in^miouslff  useless  than  this- 
fonn  of  hard  labour. 

The  men,  some  with  their  coats  and  waistcoats  off,  and  others  with  their  sleeves  tucked  up 
to  the  should^rB,  were  hard  at  work  when,  we  got  to  the  drill-ground.  Before  we  reached 
the  spot,  we  could  hear  the  warder  shouting  like  a  Serjeant  to  raw  recruits,  constantly 
repeating,  *^  One,  two — three,  fouk  !"  at  the  top  of  his  voice ;  and  each  command  was  either 
followed  by  the  tramping  of  many  feet^  or  the  dull,  plump  sound  of  some  heavy  weight 
falling  to  the  ground. 

The  men  did  their  *'  work"  with  the  regularity  of  old  soldiers,  moving  to  and  fro  with 
great  precifiion,  and  bending  down  with  simultaneous  suddenness. 

^*  One/*'  shouted  the  officer  on  duty,  and  instantly  all  the  men,  stooping,  took  up 
their  heavy  sihot.  ^'  Two  l"  was  scarcely  uttered  when  the  entire  column  advanced  sidewajrsy 
thzee  yards,  until  each  man  had  taken  the  place  where  his  neighbour  stood  before.  On 
hearing  **  ITtree/'*  they  every  one  bent  down  and  placed  the  iron  ball  on  the  earth,  and  at 
"Foitb!*'  they  shifted  back  empty-handed  to  their  original  stations.  Thus,  a  continual 
see-ttw  movement  was  kept  up,  the  men  now  advancing  sideways,  and  then  returning 
to  their  former  places,  whilst  the  shot  was  carried  from  one  spot  to  another,  until  it  had 
tiaTelkd  round  the  three  sides  of  the  square. 

"Stand  upright,  and  use  both  hands  to  put  the  shot  down !"  shouted  the  warder,  staying 
for  a  moment  his  monotonous  numerals.  "  Fay  attention  to  the  word  of  command,"  he 
added.  *^  Now,  then,  '  throe ! '  "  and  down  ducked  all  the  bodies ; '  whereupon  there  came  a 
Boccession  of  thumps  from  the  falling  shot,  as  if  fifty  paviors'  ranuners  had  descended  at. 
the  same  moment. 

After  a  while  the  prisoners  began  to  move  more  slowly,  and  pay  less  attention  to  the  time^ 
as  if  all  the  amusement  of  the  performance  had  ceased,  and  it  began  to  be  irksome.  One,  a 
boy  of  seventeen,  became  more  and  more  pink  in  the  face,  while  his  ears  grew  red.  The 
warder  was  constantiy  shouting  out,  ''  Move  a  littie  quicker,  you  boy,  there !''  The  shot  is 
about  as  heavy  as  a  pail  of  water,  and  it  struck  us  that  so  young  a  boy  was  no  more  fitted 
for  Boch  excessive  labour  than  prisoners  above  the  age  of  forty-five,  who  are  excused. 

The  men  grew  hot,  and  breathed  hard.  Some,  who  at  the  beginning  had  been  yellow  as 
gooee-ddn,  had  bright  spots  appear,  almost  like  dabs  of  rouge,  on  their  prominent  cheek- 
bones. Now  the  warder  had  to  keep  on  calling  out  either,  '*  Wait  for  the  time,  you  men 
at  the  back,"  or  else,  ''  A  little  quicker,  you  in  the  second  row."  Many  began  to  drop  their 
shot  instead  of  putting  it  down  carefttlly ;  but  they  were  quickly  discovered,  and  a  repri* 
numd  of  '*  Stoop,  and  put  the  shot  down,  do  you  hear ! "  was  the  consequence. 

When  all  were  evidentiy  very  tired,  a  rest  of  a  few  seconds  was  allowed.  Then  the  men 
pnUed  out  their  handkerchie&  and  wiped  their  faces,  others  who  had  kept  their  waistcoats 
on,  took  tliem  off,  and  passed  their  fingers  round  their  shirt  collars,  as  if  the  linen  were 
clinging  to  the  flesh,  whilst  the  youth  of  seventeen  rubbed  his  shirt  sleeve  over  his  wet  hair 
as  a  cat  uses  its  paw  when  cleaning  itself. 

Before  re-commencing,  the  warder  harangued  the  troop.  *'  Mind,  men,  when  I  say 
(hrx !  every  man  stoop  and  carry  his  shot  to  the  right.  Now,  One  f  Two !  Heels  dose 
together  every  time  you  take  up  and  put  down."  And  the  prisoners  were  off  again,  see-sawing 
backwards  and  forwards* 


310  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LONIK>N. 

A  warder  near  to  us,  witk  whom  we  oonyerBed,  said,  <'  It  tries  them  worse  taJdxig  up,, 
because  there's  nothing  to  lay  hold  of,  and  the  haads  get  hot  and  slippery  with  the  perspi- 
ration, so  that  the  ball  is  greasy  like.     The  work  makes  the  shoulders  very  stiff  too." 

This  exercise  continues  for  an  hour  and  a  quarter.  We  counted  the  distance  that  each 
man  walked  over  in  the  course  of  a  minute,  and  found  that  he  traversed  the  three  yards' 
space  fourteen  times.  According  to  this,  he  would  have  to  walk  altogether  about  one  mile 
and  three-quarters,  picking  up  and  putting  down,  at  every  alternate  three  yards,  a  weight 
of  twenty-four  pounds.  It  is  not  difficult  to  understand  how  exhausting  and  depressiDg  such 
useless  work  must  be. 

%*  Oahum  Picking* — ^There  are  three  distinet  rooms  where  the  prisoners  pick  oakum, 
one  in  the  misdemeanour  prison,  and  the  two  others  in  the  felons'  prison.  We  shall  choose 
for  our  illustration  and  description  the  larger  one  in  the  felons'  prison.  It  has  lately 
been  bnilt  on  so  vast  a  plan  that  it  has  seats  for  nearly  500  men.  This  immense  room  is 
situated  to  the  west  of  the  main  or  old  prison,  close  to  the  school-room.  It  is  almoet  as 
long  as  one  of  the  sheds  seen  at  a  railway  terminus  where  spare  carnages  are  kept,  and 
seems  to  have  been  buUt  after  the  same  style  of  architecture,  for  it  has  a  corrugated  iron  roof« 
stayed  with  thin  rods,  spanning  the  entire  erection.  We  were  told  that  the  extreme  length 
is  90  feet,  but  that  does  not  convey  so  good  a  notion  of  distance  to  the  mind  as  the  fact  of  the 
wall  being  pierced  with  eight  large  chapel  windows,  and  the  roof  with  six  skylights.  Again, 
an  attendant  informed  us  that  there  were  eleven  rows  of  forms,  but  all  that  we  could 
see  was  a  dosely^paoked  mass  of  heads  and  pink  faces,  moving  to  and  fro  in  every  variety 
of  motion,  as  though  the  wind  was  blowing  them  about,  and  they  were  set  on  stalks  xnatead 
of  neeks. 

On  the  side  fitted  with  windows  the  dark  forms  of  the  warders  are  seen,  each  perdied 
iq>  on  a  raised  stool.  The  bright  light  shines  on  the  faces  of  the  criminals,  and  the 
officer  keeps  his  eye  rapidly  moving  in  all  directions,  almost  as  if  it  went  by  clock- woik, 
so  as  to  see  that  no  talking  takes  place.  If  a  man  rest  over  his  work  for  a  moment 
and  raise  his  head,  he  sees,  hung  up  on  the  white  walls  before  him,  placards  on  which  texti 
are  printed.  One  is  to  the  effect  that  ''It  is  good  fob  a  Max  tuat  he  bsajk  thx  Yoxz  xbt 
icts  TonH ;''  another  tells  the  prisoners  that  ''  Godlikbss  with  QmsmssmasAt  is  a  obsat 
OAiK;"  whilst  a  third  counsels  each  of  them  to  ''  Go  vo  ths  Axt,  thoit  Slttik^aiid,  cojreinsE 

laSBL  WATS,  Aim  BE  WISE."* 

*  Ofie  of  the  peculiarities  of  Coldbath  Fields  is  th«  frequent  display  of  Scripture  texts,  printed  ia  a  krg» 
bold  type,  and  bong  up  on  every  oonspiouous  part  of  the  prison  walls,  ^^^e  believe  that  this  idea  originated 
with  the  present  kind-hearted  goremor  himself-- a  gentleman  whose  endeavours  to  improve  the  rc'ligioua 
feelings  of  the  prisoners  under  his  charge  are,  from  the  evidences  so  plentifully  distributed  about  the  prison, 
unceasing  and  most  enthusiastic.  But  we  doubt  very  much  whether  a  criminal  is  to  be  affected  by  a  printed 
display  of  Bible  quotations.  On  the  contrary,  we  rather  believe  that  the  constant  eight  of  sueh  placards 
tends  so  to  accustom  him  to  the  religious  warnings,  that  at  last  he  ceases  to  notice  them  altogether,  and  pays 
no  moie  attention  to  them  than  we  do  to  the  pattern  of  the  paper  on  our  walls^  The  obtruded  texta  become, 
as  it  were,  part  of  the  furniture,  and  the  felon  at  last  passes  them  by,  giving  no  more  heed  to  the  principles 
inculcated  by  them  than  wc  do  to  a  notice-board,  which,  having  once  read,  we  do  not  stop  each  time  we  go 
by  to  re-peruse.  Over  the  report-o£Sce,  in  the  entrance  hall  of  the  prison,  is  placarded,  '*  Swbab  not  at 
ALi^*'  which  we  before  noticed,  remarking  that  in  a  prison  conducted  on  the  silent  system  such  a  command 
appeared  to  ns  somewhat  superfluous.  In  explanation,  the  gOTernor  tells  us  that  the  men,  when  reported 
and  brought  before  him,  often  aooompanied  their  expostulations  of  innocence  with  oaths  such  as  **  Stzike 
me  dead  I "  <<  Upon  my  soul ! "  &c.,  and  that  it  was  on  that  account  he  had  the  text  placed  over  the  entraaee 
door.  It  would  appear,  however,  that  the  language  of  the  prisoners  has  not  been  much  improved  by  the 
placard,  for  the  same  form  of  vehement  asseverations  is  said  to  be  still  indulged  in,  nor  is  it  likdy  that  a  line 
or  two  of  print  should  change  men,  who  pay  no  regard  to  the  laws  of  society,  into  persons  of  gentle  speeek. 
Besides,  the  experiment  of  these  silent  warnings  has  been  often  tried  and  failed.  Ilie.  Mohammedan  has  the 
yery  cornice  of  his  ceiling,  and  the  arabesques  on  his  walls,  decorated  with  quotations  from  the  Komi,  and 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTION,  COLDBATH  PIELDS.  Sit 

We  went  to  the  wall  where  the  warders  were,  and  looked  up  the  slopiiig  floor  at  the 
dirtjT  gray  mass  of  life ;  the  faces  of  the  men  seemed  like  the  flesh  showing  through  a  tattered 
garment. 

The  hnilding  was  fuH  of  men,  and  as  silent  as  if  it  merely  contained  so  many  automata, 
lor  the  only  sotmd  heard  was  like  that  of  ihe  rustling  of  a  thicket,  or,  hetter,  the  ticking  of 
dock-work — something  resembling  that  heard  in  a  Dutch  clockmaker's  shop,  where  hundreds 
of  time-pieoes  are  going  together. 

The  utter  absence  of  noise  struck  us  as  being  absolutely  terrible.  The  silence  seemed, 
after  a  time,  almost  intense  enough  to  hear  a  flake  of  snow  fall.  Perfect  stiUness  is  at  all 
times  more  or  lees  awftd,  and  hence  arises  a  great  port  of  the  solenmity  of  night  as  well  as 
of  deatL  To  behold  those  whom  we  have  seen  full  of  life  and  emotion — some  wondrous 
piece  of  breathing  and  speaking  organism,  reduced  to  the  inanimateness  of  the  statue,  is 
assuredly  the  most  appalling  and  depressing  sight  we  can  look  upon.  The  stillness  of  the 
silent  system,  however,  has,  to  our  minds,  even  a  more  tragic  cast  about  it ;  for  not 
only  is  the  silence  as  intense  and  impressive  as  that  of  death  itself^  but  the  moyements  of 
the  workers  seem  as  noiseless,  and  therefore  imearthly,  as  spectres*  Nor  does  the  sense  of 
our  being  surrounded  by  some  Are  hundred  criminals — ^men  of  the  wildest  passions,  and 
almost  brute  instincts,  all  toiling  in  dumb  show  and  without  a  single  syllable  escaping  from 
their  lips — ^in  any  way  detract  from  the  ^obkn  character  of  the  sight. 

The  work-room  at  the  dumb  asylum  is  not  half  so  grim  or  affecting  a  scene  as  the  five 
oenturies  of  nlent  oakum-pickers  at  Coldbath  Pields ;  for,  at  the  latter  place,  we  are  conscious 
that  the  wretched  mutes  before  us  wotdd  speak  if  they  dare,  so  that  we  cannot  help  thinking  of 
the  stroggliag  emotions  pent  up  in  the  several  hundred  crushed  spirits  before  us.  Either 
Ihe  men  must  have  been  cowed  by  discipline  into  the  insensibility  of  mere  automata,  or  else 
irhat  gall  and  bitterness,  and  suppressed  fury,  must  be  rankling  in  every  bosom  there,  at  the 
Kttse  of  having  their  tongues  thus  tfriuaUy  out  out,  Kor  can  we  help  thinking  that  the 
excision  of  the  organ  of  speech  itself  (after  the  manner  that  barbarous  nations  deal  with 
offending  slaves)  would  be  less  inhuman  as  a  punishment;  for  to  leave  the  tongue  in  a 
nian's  mouth,  and  yet  to  deny  him  the  liberty  of  using  it  (when  ev^  little  event  in  life, 
eyery  act  we  witness,  every  feeling  we  experience,  as  weU  as  every  thought  that  passes 
through  the  brain,  suggests  some  form  of  speech  from  the  mere  force  of  association ;  and 
when,  therefore,  the  restraint  imposed  upon  a  man's  Ups  for  the  whole  of  his  imprisonment 
must  be  one  long  round  of  irritation  upon  irritation — a  continual  series  of  checkings  and 
c^iibings  of  natural  impulses,  sufficient  to  infuriate  even  the  best  regulated  and  least  irritable 
natures) — ^this  is  surely  a  piece  of  refined  tyranny,  worthy  of  the  enlightenment,  if  not 
the  humanity,  of  the  nineteenth  century.  We  are  well  aware  of  the  evil  consequences  that 
ensue  when  unrestricted  intercourse  is  permitted  among  criminals ;  but  because  thieves  and 

yet  he  eaanot  order  a  cup  of  ooffeo,  or  converse  on  the  most  ordinary  topic,  without  swearing,  <*  Bf  Allah ! "  or 
*  B7  the  Prophet ! "  at  every  dozen  words.  The  Pharisees,  again,  are  known  to  have  had  their  phylacteries 
oorered  with  short  passages  from  the  Bible  hung  ahout  their  necks.  The  old  Puritans,  iooy  were  accustomed  to 
Interiard  their  conversation  with  oaths,  such  as  «  By  God's  wounds !  **  "  By  God*s  blood !  "  "  By  the  agony  of 
Chriit ! "  and  yet,  although  these  phrases  were  intended  to  carry  with  titem  a  scriptural  sound,  everybody  of  the 
PRsent  day  would  certainly  denounoe  them  as  improper  and  revolting.  Again,  the  same  fanatics  loved  to  put 
^  letigious  signs  even  at  their  drinking  booths,  as  <*  God  sncompassxs  "  (now  corrupted  into  the  '*  Goat  akd 
CoKPAssBs"),  or,  in  Saxon  English,  "God  dcbutes"  (literally,  God  surrounds — God  is  tibouly  but  now 
^i=>Qsmogrified  into  the  "  Goat  axd  Boots  ").  The  Bible  texts  on  the  walls  of  Coldbath  Fields  seem  to  us 
of  the  same  hkupKemous  character.  To  our  minds— we  confess  it  boldly— they  appear  very  much  like  using 
the  most  solemn  phrases  "m  vam,"  t.e.,  idly,  or  when  the  mind  is  not  fitted  to  appreciate  them;  and  surely 
^  pbstefiog  the  walls  of  a  prison  with  these  religious  posting-bills  only  teaches  Uiieves  to  adopt  the  cant^ 
nther  than  feel  the  tpirity  of  true  piety.  Suppose  every  hoarding  in  the  public  thoroughfares  was  to  be 
sovered  with  texts,  would  the  public  be  a  bit  better  for  it,  think  you  ?  or,  rather,  would  not  men  be  rendered 
▼one,  and  taught  to  use  Scripture  as  a  slang— to  chatter  it,  as  Catholic  beggars  do,  their  Latin  prayers 
vithoat  thmlring  of  what  they  themselves  are  saying,  and  merely  as  a  means  of  imposition  upon  others* 


812  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOl^DON. 

ragabonds  become  more  cormpt  by  speaking  together  on  bad  subjects,  surely  that  aflbrds 
no  sound  reason  why  we  should  deny  such  people  the  right  of  speech  altogether,  and  so  cut 
off  from  them  the  only  means  that  all  persons  haye  of  improvement,  yIz,,  by  moral  and  intel* 
lectual  commimion  with  other  minds. 

The  quantity  of  oakum  each  man  has  to  pick  yaries  according  to  whether  he  be  condemned 
to  hard  labour  or  not.  In  the  former  case  the  weight  is  never  less  than  three,  and  sometimes 
as  much  as  six,  pounds ;  for  the  quantity  given  out  depends  upon  the  quality  of  the  old  rope 
or  junk,  i.  e.,  according  as  it  is  more  or  less  tightly  twisted.  The  men  not  at  hard  labour  have 
only  two  pounds'  weight  of  junk  served  out  to  them. 

Each  picker  has  by  his  side  his  weighed  quantity  of  old  rope,  cut  into  lengths  about 
equal  to  that  of  a  hoop-stick.  Some  of  the  pieces  are  white  and  sodden-looking  as  a  washer^ 
woman's  hands,  whilst  others  are  hard  and  black  with  the  tar  upon  them.  The  prisoner 
takes  up  a  length  of  junk  and  untwists  it,  and  when  he  has  separated  it  into  so  many  cork- 
screw strands,  he  further  unrolls  them  by  sliding  them  backwards  and  forwards  on  his  knee 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand,  until  the  meshes  are  loosened. 

Then  the  strand  is  further  unraveled  by  placing  it  in  the  bend  of  a  hook  fastened  to  the 
Imees,  and  sawing  it  smartly  to  and  fi*o,  which  soon  removes  the  tar  and  grates  the  fibres 
apart.  In  this  condition,  all  that  remains  to  be  done  is  to  loosen  the  hemp  by  pulling 
it  out  like  cotton  wool,  when  the  process  is  completed. 

By  the  rays  of  sun-light  shining  through  the  window,  you  can  see  that  the  place  is  full  of 
dust ;  for  the  bright  rays  are  sharply  defined  as  those  streaming  through  a  cathedral  win- 
dow. The  shoulders  of  the  men,  too,  are  covered  with  the  brown  dust  almost  as  thickly  as 
the  shirt-front  of  a  snuff-taker.  A  prisoner  with  a  bright  tin  water-can  is  going  the  round, 
handing  up  drink  to  the  workers,  who  gulp  it  down  as  if  choked. 

''  You're  getting  too  close  together  on  that  back  seat,"  presently  a  warder  shouts  to  some 
men  on  a  form  against  the  wall,  and  who  instantly  separate,  till  they  are  spaced  out  like 
tumblers  on  a  shelf. 

We  left  the  building  for  a  time,  and  when  we  returned,  we  found  a  man  lying  on  the 
stone  floor  with  a  bundle  of  picked  oakum  supporting  his  head,  and  a  warder  unbuttoning 
his  shirt  and  loosening  his  waistcoat;  he  was  in  an  epileptic  fit.  His  face  had  turned  a 
bright  crimson  with  the  blood  flown  to  the  head,  so  that  the  clenched  teeth  between  his 
parted  lips  seemed  as  white  as  a  sweep's.  The  other  prisoners  went  on  working  as  though 
it  were  no  business  of  their' s.  After  a  few  minutes  a  thrill  ran  down  the  Umbs  of  the 
prostrate  man,  he  began  to  draw  in  his  extended  arms,  his  tightly  closed  hands  opened,  and 
the  eyelids  quivered.  "How  do  you  feel  now,  my  man?"  asked  the  warder;  but  the 
only  answer  was  a  deep<drawn  breath,  like  that  of  a  person  going  into  cold  water. 

''We  often  have  such  cases,"  said  the  officer  to  us.  **  After  letting  them  lie  down  ioac 
half  an  hour  they  are  all  right  again,  and  go  back  to  their  oakum  as  well  as  ever." 

As  the  day  advanced,  the  pieces  of  old  rope  by  the  prisoners'  sides  disappeared  bitby  bit, 
and  in  their  place  the  mound  of  treacle -brown  oakum  at  their  feet  grew  from  the  size  of 
a  scratch  wig  to  that  of  a  large  pumpkin.  At  length  the  men  had  all  completed  their  tasks, 
and  sat  each  holding  on  his  knees  his  immense  tar-coloured  ball^  waiting  to  take  his  torn 
to  go  to  the  scales  and  have  his  pickings  weighed.  Then  the  silence  of  the  room,  which  has 
all  along  been  like  that  of  a  sick  chamber,  is  suddenly  broken  by  the  warder  calling  out, 
**  The  fiirst  three  men !"  The  voice  seems  so  loud,  that  it  startles  one  like  a  scream  in  the 
night-time.  Three  gray  forms  rise  up  obediently  as  shepherds'  dogs,  and,  carrying  their 
bundles  before  them,  advance  to  the  weighing-machine,  ^ow  the  stillness  is  broken  by 
the  shuffling  of  feet,  and  the  pushing  of  forms,  as  prisoner  after  prisoner  obeys  the  command 
to  give  in  his  oakum. 

Ttro  officers  stand  beside  the  weighing-machine,  and  a  third,  with  a  big  basket  befoire 
him^  receives  the  roll  as  soon  as  it  has  been  passed  as  correct.    K  a  prisoner's  oakum  be 


HOUSE  OF  COBSECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  81S 

fonnd  to  be  light,  he  is  reported  tad  puniehed ;  many,  ve  were  told,  are  iront  to  get  rid  of 
their  jonk,  and  bo  ease  their  Libooi  by  perhaps  a  pound. 

"  This  iroa't  do,"  says  the  warder,  pointing  to  the  pufly  hemp  in  the  scales ;  "it's  half 
a  ponnd  short." 

"  It's  all  I  had,  sir,"  answers  the  man.  "  Ask  them  as  was  next  me  if  I  haven't  picked 
every  l«t." 

"  Beport  him ! "  is  the  warder's  answer ;  and  his  brother  officer  writes  down  the  number 
of  the  colprit  ia  a  book. 

When  the  men  had  fallen  into  line,  and  been  marched  off  to  their  different  yards,  we 
inqoired  of  one  of  the  warders  if  ooknm- picking  was  a  laborious  task.  "Not  to  iht  old 
haitd*,"  waa  the  answer.  "  We've  men  here  that  will  have  done  their  three  or  four  pounds  a 
couple  of  hours  before  some  of  the  fresh  prisoners  will  have  done  a  pound.  They  learn  tbe 
knack  of  it,  and  make  haate  to  finish,  bo  as  to  be  able  to  read;  but  to  the  new  arrivalB 
it'a  hard  work  enough;  for  mott  thimet'  hand*  art  toft,  and  the  hard  rope  cute  and  bliBters 
their  fingers,  eo  that  until  the  skin  hardens,  it'e  very  painful." 

Tbe  qnaatitj  of  rope  picked  into  oaknm  at  Coldbath  Fields  prison  would  average,  says 
tho  governor,  three  and  a  half  tont  per  week,  which,  at  the  preBeut  price  of  £,5  the  ton, 
would  produce  the  sum  of  £17  lOi. 

*^*  Tlte  Tailort'  and  Shoemaken'  Room. — When  a  prisoner  is  brought  to  the  House  of 
Correction,  he  has  the  option  given  him — ^provided  he  was  not  sentenced  to  hard  labour — of 
picking  oakum  or  working  at  a  trade.    Through  this  arrangement  the  establishment  boasts 


THE  TAILOBS'  AND  SHOEMAKKaS'  BOOM  AT  COLDBATH  riBLDS  PBIBOK. 


814  THE  GliEAT  VOKLD  OF  LONDON. 

of  a  numerous  staff  of  tailors  and  shoemakers,  who  have  a  large  room,  as  big  as  a  factory- 
floor,  given  up  to  them,  where,  under  the  inspection  of  three  oflScers,  160  of  them  pass  the 
day,  making  and  repairing  clothing  and  boots  and  shoes.  After  the  depressing  sight  of  the 
tread- wheel  yards  and  the  shot-drill,  it  is  quite  refreshing  to  enter  this  immense  workshop, 
and  see  the  men  employing  their  time  at  an  occupation  that  is  useftQ,  and  (judging  from 
the  countenances  of  the  men)  neither  over-fatiguing  nor  degrading. 

One  entire  side  of  this  workshop  is  occupied  by  a  raised  platform,  on  which  are  seated 
a  crowd  of  tailors,  all  with  their  shoes  off,  and  cross-legged,  like  so  many  Turks.  Tall  rows 
of  gas*lights  stand  up  amongst  them,  most  of  which  are,  now  that  it  is  summer-time, 
serving  as  convenient  places  for  hanging  thick  skeins  of  thread  upon,  or  as  pegs  to  sup- 
port some  unflnished  work.  The  men  have  a  certain  grade  in  their  work,  beginning  with 
repairing  the  clothes  of  their  fellow-prisoners,  then  passing  to  the  making  of  new  suits  of 
gray  and  blue  for  the  future  arrivals,  and  at  length  reaching  the  proud  climax  of  working 
upon  the  doth  uniforms  of  the  offtcers.  When  there  is  a  lack  of  employment,  some  of  the 
younger  hands  are  set  to  work  at  shirt-making. 

The  earnings  of  the  prison  tailors  are  estimated  at  from  M.  to  5s.  (!)  the  day,  according 
to  their  proficiency,  the  lads  who  are  just  learning  to  use  their  needle  being  put  down  at  a 
merely  nominal  sum — the  value  of  everything  made  in  the  prison  being  estimated  at  what  it 
would  cost  if  the  work  had  been  paid  for  outside  the  prison.  A  great  quantity  of  the  clothes, 
boots,  and  shoes,  sent  to  Hanwell  Lunatic  Asylum  and  the  House  of  Betenticm,  are  mann- 
factured  at  Coldbath  Pields.  A  considerable  portion  of  the  ''estimated  profit  of  work  or 
labour  done  by  the  prisoners,"*  given  in  the  annual  returns,  is  earned  in  tiiis  large 
chamber. 

After  the  saddening  spectacles  of  the  other  forms  of  labour  at  this  prison,  the  eye  is 
greatly  relieved  by  the  busy  sight  of  these  tailors  and  cobblers  engaged  at  their  trades. 
The  prisoners  here  appear  to  work  as  though  they  found  a  relief  in  the  employment 
from  the  silent  monotony  of  their  jail  life,  and  certainly  have  a  less  dejected  and 
more  human  expression  of  countenance  than  those  to  be  seen  in  the  other  portions  of  the 
building. 

As  we  entered  the  room  the  tailors'  arms  were  rapidly  flying  up  in  the  air,  and  the  sound 
of  the  clicking  of  shears  told  us  that,  despite  the  siLence,  a  good  amount  of  work  was 
being  rapidly  executed.  In  the  centre  passage  was  a  stove  stuck  all  over  with  big  irons, 
almost  like  half-hundred  weights,  which  the  continual  roasting  had  oxidated  into  a  fiine 
squirrel-red.    A  prisoner,  after  stuffing  his  bat-shaped  sleeve-board  down  one  of  the  arms  of 

*  The  following  is  the  account  that  has  been  furnished  us  of  the  extent  and  value  of  the  labour  per- 
formed by  the  prisoners  of  different  trades  at  Coldbath  Fields  prison,  for  the  year  ending  30th  September 
1865  :— 

Amount  of  Work  dono  in  the  ShoemaJcinff  JOeparfment. 

333  pairs  of  male  officers'  boots.  1  2,600  pairs  of  prisoners'  boots  and  shoes. 

172       „       female  officers' hoots.  I  About  12,600  pain  of  boots  and  thoes  repaired. 

The  aggregate  ettimftted  value  of  the  shoemaksfai'  labour,  £800. 

Taihriftg  I>epartrMnt. 


622  uniform  coats. 
199       „       waistcoats. 
320        „       trousers. 
23  gambroon  coats. 
223  uniform  cap?. 
163        „       stocks.  I 

The  aggregate  estimated  value  of  the  tailonf  labour,  £860. 

The  value  of  the  labour  executed  by  other  trades,  such  as  bricklayers,  plasterers,  masons,  painten 
gardeners,  £1,860. 


1,008  prisoaers*  Jackets. 
1,068         If        trousers. 
1,104         „         shirts. 
Miscellaneous  repairs  to  offloers'  Qnifomii 
and  prisoners'  oktiung. 


HOUSE- OF  COEKECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  315 

a  ooaty  until  it  was  stretclied  as  tight  as  tlie  cloth  on  a  billiard-table,  moved  towards  the 
stove  and  tested  the  heat  of  the  irons  with  his  wet  fingers,  the  hot  metal  hissing  as  he 
touched  it  like  a  cat  spitting.  The  new,  stiff  uniforms,  with  the  metal  buttons  shining 
like  a  row  of  large,  brass-headed  tacks  on  a  double  door,  are  hung  up  against  the  waUs. 
The  men  bend  over  their  work,  silent  as  mussulmen  at  their  devotions,  so  that  the  first 
impression  on  seeing  the  hands  moving  about  is,  that  they  are  the  gesticulations  of  so  many 
dumb  men. 

The  other  side  of  the  room  is,  however,  not  so  quiet ;  for  the  eighty  prison  cobblers,  seated 
on  rows  of  forms,  are  hammering  on  their  lapstones  or  knocking  in  the  sprigs.  The  men 
wear  big  leathern  aprons,  like  smiths',  and  some  of  them,  with  the  last  between  their  knees, 
are  covering  it  with  the  dead  black  skin,  pulling  it  out  with  nippers  until  ynn  expect  to 
see  it  splity  and  then  tacking  it  down  into  its  place.  Others  are  bending  forward,  and 
screwing  up  their  mouths  with  the  exertion  of  making  the  awl-holes  round  the  tough  brown 
soles.  Othen,  again,  are  throwing  their  arms  wide  open  as  they  draw  out  the  waxed  threads. 
Two  or  three  lads,  wooing  near  the  waU,  are  nibbing  some  newly-finished  boots  up  and 
down  with  a  piece  of  wood,  as  though  they  were  burnishing  the  well-tightened  calf  and 
foot. 

%*  1%0  Printing-office  and  NeedU-roam, — ^To  see  the  printing-ofiOlce,  where  the  prison 
lesson-books  are  set  up  in  type  and  worked  off,  we  had  to  leave  the  main  prison  and  cross 
ore?  to  that  for  misdemeanants.  We  found  the  prison  printers  sharing  the  same  room  with 
the  ''needle-men,''  for  as  there  is  not  more  typographical  work  required  than  will  keep  three 
**  hands  "  employed,  a  separate  workshop  cannot  be  spared,  so  valuable  is  every  bit  of  space 
at  Coldbath  Fields. 

When  female  pfisoners  were  sent  to  this  jail,  all  the  needle- work  was  performed  by  them; 
but  since  their  removal  to  Tothill  Fields  the  men  have  had  to  do  the  labour.  The  apartment, 
Gcarcely  larger  than  a  back  parlour,  was  filled  with  the  black-chinned  needle- workers,  who 
sat  on  forms,  some  darning  old  flannel-jackets,  others  making  up  bed-ticks.  One,  with  a 
pair  oi  spectacles  almost  as  clumsily  made  as  if  they  belonged  to  a  diverts  helmet^  was 
'<  taking  up  "  some  rents  in  a  mulberry-coloured  counterpane,  but  h$  used  his  needle  and 
thread  somewhat  after  the  manner  of  a  cobbler  making  boots. 

Against  the  wall  of  this  needle-room  stood  a  small  printing-press,  made  so  clumsily  out 
of  thick  pieces  of  wood  and  impolished  iron,  that  there  was  no  difficulty  in  telling  that  it  had 
been  manufactured  in  the  prison.  A  good-looking  lad,  with  a  face  smiling  as  if  he  had  never 
known  vice,  stood  by  the  side  of  the  press,  with  his  coat  off  and  shirt  sleeves  tueked  up, 
busy  placing  paper,  half  transparent  with  dampness,  upon  the  little  form  of  type  that  he  was 
printing  off.  He  was  engaged  in  pulling  a  slip  entitled,  "  A  Few  Texts  7bom  the  Bible  " — 
the  same  as  we  had  seen  suspended  on  the  walls  of  all  the  cells. 

dose  by  was  the  firame  on  which  was  placed  the  case  of  types,  with  its  square  divisions 
for  each  letter,  like  the  luggage-label  trays  at  railways.  Another  lad,  with  a  compositor's 
"stick  "  in  his  hand,  was  picking  up  the  metal  types  as  quickly  as  a  pigeon  does  peas,  and 
placing  them  in  their  printing  order,  stopping  every  now  and  then  to  Iqok  at  the  written  paper 
before  him.  In  a  side-room,  we  found  the  head  printer  busily  folding  up  sheets  of  letter 
pi4)er,  with  a  newly-printed  heading,  on  which  the  prisoners  write  whenever  they  send  to 
their  friends. 

The  tickets  for  extra  provisions  from  the  kitchen,  as  well  as  those  certifying  the  number 
of  men  locked  up  at  night  and  again  unlocked  in  the  morning,  and  indeed  all  the  small 
printing  of  the  prison,  is  done  in  this  office  by  criminals. 

We  cannot  too  highly  commend  the  introduction  of  printing  among  the  forms  of  prison 
labour,  and  we  believe  that  to  the  House  of  Correction  belongs  the  honour  of  being  the 
only  jail  where  it  is  at  present  pursued.    It  is  at  once  a  thoughtful,  refining,  and  pleasant 


THB  OKEAT  WORLD  OP  tONBOIT. 


UAT.BOOH  AT  COLDBATH  FIELDS  PRISON. 

occnpation,  ivMch,  in  its  higher  forma,  forces  the  workman  to  meditate  npon  not  only  Qi« 
proprietiea  of  speech,  but  the  elegancies  of  thought  and  sentiment,  and  which,  even  when 
applied  to  nothing  more  than  the  prison  forma  and  lessona,  is  at  one  and  Uie  same  time  (tf 
great  service  to  the  economy  of  a  jail,  as  well  as  Mng,  from  tho  nicety  of  the  art^  of  tn 
eleratiDg  tendency  to  the  workmen  employed. 

\*  Mat-room. — Hat-maMng  appears  to  he  a  faTonrite  occupation  witli  prison  aathoritue ; 
donhtlessly  owing  to  the  facility  with  which  a  man  can  be  taught  the  occnpation,  and  becaose 
snch  kinds  of  manufacture  afford  considerable  occupation  to  others  in  preparing  the  different 
materials,  "  hands"  being  rpquired,  not  only  to  pick  the  coir,  but  also  to  make  the  rough 
cordage  for  tho  mat ;  and  in  a  j  ail  labour  is  so  plentiful,  that  the  difficulty  ia  to  find  snfflcient 
employment  for  oS  the  prisoners. 

All  the  mats  made  at  Coldbath  Pields  are  contracted  for  by  a  wholesale  dealer,  who  i> 
allowed  to  place  foremen  oTer  the  prisoners,  both  to  instruct  the  new,  and  Buperintaad  the 
old  hands.  There  are  thirty-three  prisonera  employed  in  the  mat-room ;  but  including  those 
who  dreas  the  flax  and  coir,  and  spin  the  rope,  occupation  is  afforded  for  about  nzty 
hands. 

It  is  a  very  peculiar  sight  to  enter  the  lai^  workshop  set  apart  for  the  mat-maken, 
especially  after  leaving  the  adjacent  oaknm-room,  where  the  silence  of  the  jnnk-pickers  ia 
only  broken  by  the  sound  of  the  moving  arms ;  for  the  OLat-room  is  alive  with  tiie  clatter  of 
tools  and  looms,  and  all  the  tnmult  of  a  busy  workshop,  so  that  the  absence  of  all  sound 
of  the  human  voice  appears  to  be  the  result  of  a  close  application  to  labour,  rather  than  a 
prison  punishment. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  817 

The  big  room,  with  its  stone-payed  floor,  and  iron- work  roof,  is  as  large  as  if  a  spacious 
yard  had  been  covered  in,  and  what  with  windows  and  sky-lights,  it  is  almost  as  light  as  a 
photographer's  studio. 

The  air  smells  of  tan,  like  a  ship-builder's  yard ;  but  what  flrst  strikes  the  attention  is 
Uie  long  row  of  looms  ranged  against  the  side  of  the  ''  shop"  fltted  with  windows,  and 
which,  at  first,  give  one  the  notion  that  they  are  the  frames  of  so  many  tumed-up  press 
bedsteads,  placed  out  of  the  way,  as  on  a  cleaning  day.  In  a  recess,  on  another  side,  there 
are  more  of  these  looms ;  so  that  the  building  reminds  one  of  a  furniture  broker's  store. 
Moreover,  mats  lie  about  in  every  direction ;  some  piled  up  on  the  table,  and  others  hanging 
to  the  walls,  or  strewn  on  the  floor ;  and  large  square  baskets  fllled  with  coir  form  reservoirs 
of  rough  material  to  keep  the  hands  at  work. 

The  looms  are  used  for  manufacturing  cocoa-nut  flbro  matting,  and  cheap  hearth-rugs — a 
form  of  manufacture,  which,  compared  with  silk- weaving,  is  as  different  as  house-carpenters' 
work  is  to  cabinet-makers'.  The  gauze-like  threads  of  the  Spitalflelds  machine  are  replaced 
by  coarse  brown  string;  and  the  silk- weaver's  shuttle,  not  so  big  as  the  hull  of  an  ivory 
frigate,  which  darts  with  a  whiz  through  the  brilliant  fibre  of  the  Jacquard  loom,  is  laid  aside 
fi»r  one  as  big  as  a  dressing-case  boot-jack ;  and  this  had  to  be  pushed  and  coaxed  along  the 
cordage  that  stretches  across  the  beams  like  the  strings  of  some  coarse  musical  instrument. 
The  battens  come  thumping  down  with  a  dead,  heavy  sound,  while  the  muscles,  swelling  and 
moving  in  the  bare  arms  of  the  weaver,  show  the  exertion  required  to  form  the  stiff  coir  into 
the  required  position. 

The  youDg  men  prisoners,  seated  at  spinning-wheels,  are  rocking  to  and  fro  as  they  twirl 
round  the  humming  disc  that  winds  off  the  balls  of  coarse  rope.  The  older  hands  are  occu- 
pied with  the  harder  work  of  making  the  rope  door-mats ;  some  plying  a  needle  like  a 
skewer,  and  others  hammering  with  a  wooden  mallet  to  moke  the  rows  of  the  design  lie 
evenly. 

*'  This  man  is  manufacturing  what  wo  call  a  diamond  sennit  mat,"  said  the  ofiOlcer, 
lifting  up  the  stiff  brown  article,  and  showing  to  us  its  back,  with  the  cords  crossing  each 
other  in  a  lozenge  pattern.  "  This,"  he  continued,  ''  is  a  close  mat  with  a  sennit  centre," 
pointing  to  one  with  an  open-work  pattern  in  the  middle  of  it.  Indeed,  in  the  different 
patterns  around,  we  could  recognize  all  the  various  kinds  of  mats  which  ornament  the  halls 
and  passages  of  the  Metropolis. 

One  of  the  boys  was  working  at  a  stand  fitted  up  with  immense  reels  of  crimson  worsted, 
pulling  off  the  threads  so  rapidly  that  the  frayed  edges  threw  out  a  bright-coloured  smoko, 
which  powdered  his  shoulders  and  the  ground  around  as  if  the  reflection  of  a  painted  window 
had  fiillen  there.  With  this  showy  worsted  the  edges  of  the  better  kinds  of  mats  are  orna- 
mented. The  rug  manufactory  constitutes  the  fine  arts  department  of  the  prison  mat-room. 
The  overseer,  anxious  that  we  should  see  specimens  of  the  work,  called  to  a  man  who  was 
clipping  down  the  rough  crop  of  a  newly-made  door-mat  into  a  smooth  lawn  of  fibre,  and 
desired  him  to  spread  out  some  of  the  roUed-up  rugs  before  us.  ''  This  one,"  explained  the 
overseer,  as  we  were  looking  at  the  rude  design  of  a  rose  as  large  as  a  red  cabbage,  ''  is  a 
eheap  article,  made  mostly  out  of  yam ;  but  here  is  the  best  style  of  goods  we  make,"  and 
another  rug  was  spread  out,  with  a  full  length  tiger  worked  upon  it. 

\*  Artisan  Prisoners, — Printing,  tailoring,  shoemaking,  and  mat-making  are  not  the 
only  crafts  which  the  prisoners  are  permitted  to  follow  in  Coldbath  Fields.  The  whitewash 
Ofn  the  walls  has  been  laid  on  by  prison  plasterers ;  many  parts  of  the  prison  have  been  erected 
by  prison  bricklayers  and  masons ;  the  wood  and  iron  work  receives  its  annual  coat  of  colour 
from  prison  painters ;  and  even  the  tin  mugs,  out  of  which  the  men  take  their  gruel,  are  manu- 
fisustured  by  prison  tinmen.  This  is  as  it  ought  to  be ;  and  the  only  pity  is,  that  there  are 
degrading  occupations  pursued  among  men  who  need  elevating  influences  more  than  any 


818  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

other  class  of  persons.  We  print  a  list  of  the  handicrafts  pnremed  in  the  prison,  and  append 
the  price  at  which  the  lahonr  is  estimated  in  the  prison  books,  where  it  is  reckoned  as  so 
mnch  profit  to  the  jail,  from  its  saving  the  necessity  of  employing  and  paying  for  out-door 
labour. 


TSADE. 

Tradb. 

T&ADE. 

Tradb. 

Bricklayers. 

Plumbers. 

Tinmen. 

Bookbinders. 

Plasterers. 

Glaziers. 

Blacksmiths. 

Basket-makers. 

Masons. 

Sawyers. 

TJphoIstererB. 

Carpenters. 

Painters. 

Coopers. 

All  men,  employed  at  the  above  trades,  are  charged  for  at  the  rate  of  5«.  per  diem. 
Garden»*8,  working  in  the  garden,  are  reckoned  at  the  rate  of  2s.  per  diem;  and  labourers, 
employed  in  the  works,  at  the  rate  of  1«.  per  diem. 

Number  of  Artificers  (other  than  tailors,  shoemakers,  and  mat-makers) 

employed  throughout  the  prison      .  .        .25 

„  Gardeners  „  ,,  ...      5 

„  Labourers  ,,  ,,  ...     18 

Total 48 

Some  of  the  valuations  of  the  prison  labour  appear  to  us  to  be  somewhat  high — ^for 
instance,  we  doubt  whether  many  working  basket-makers  or  sawyers  ever  receive,  when  free, 
as  much  as  5^.  for  their  day's  work. 

Now,  the  estimate  for  the  labour  of  the  prisoners  at  the  Hulks  (see  p.  203)  amounts  in 
the  aggregate  to  only  about  one-third  of  the  price  charged  at  Coldbath  Fields.  For  instance, 
the  labour  of  carpenters,  blacksmiths,  painters,  plumbers,  and  coopers,  among  the  convicts  at 
Woolwich,  is  valued  at  2s.  64.,  or  exactly  one-half  of  that  set  down  at  the  House  of  Cor- 
rection ;  whilst  that  of  shoemakers,  tailors,  washers,  and  cooks  is  reckoned  at  Is.  6d,  instead 
of  5s.  Hence,  either  the  Hulks  are  too  low,  or  the  House  of  Correction  is  too  high,  in  its 
appraisement,  for  between  them  is  a  difference  of  50  and  75  per  cent,  in  the  amount 
charged.  Besides,  it  should  be  rem^nbered  that  the  greater  proportion  of  the  artisans 
employed  in  jails  are  unskilled  men ;  and  it  is  most  unfair  that  one,  who  is  but  learning 
his  trade,  should  be  charged  for  at  prices  equivalent  to  that  demanded  by  the  quickest  and 
most  experienced  hands. 

Therefore,  calculating  the  labour  at  Coldbath  Fields  at  the  same  value  as  the  Hulks 
(and,  from  its  being  a  '^  short-term"  prison,  the  labour  at  the  House  of  Correction  cannot  be 
even  of  the  same  value),  the  **  estimated  profit  of  work  or  labour  done  by  the  prisoners  for 
the  benefit  of  the  county,  city,  or  borough,"  which,  in  the  return  of  the  House  of  Correction, 
is  valued  at  £4,320  12s.  Si.,  ought,  at  the  very  least,  to  be  reduced  one-hal^  or  to 
£2,160  6s.  4d.,  and  so  the  cost  of  the  management  of  the  prison  should  be  railed  from 
£16,466  2s.  5d,,  to  the  more  formidable  sum  of  £18,626  Ss.  9d. 

We  were  told  that  it  was  very  rarely  that  working  bookbinders  came  to  the  prison. 
This,  probably,  may  be  owing  to  the  fact  that  a  large  proportion  of  that  kind  of  labour  is 
now  performed  by  women ;  and  as  the  House  of  Correction  at  Coldbath  Fields  no  longer 
receives  female  prisoners,  such  operatives  seldom  come  within  the  walls.  We  congiatnlate 
the  male  portion  of  the  working  bookbinders,  however,  upon  this  high  testimony  to  tlieir 
honour  and  principle. 


HOUSE  OF  COEBECTIOIT,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  319 

JEiacaium  and  Bdigiom  Lutntetion  of  the  JPtiaoners. 

%*  I%e  School-room, — ^As  we  were  standing  at  the  entrance  of  the  felons'  prison,  a 
gentleman  passed  ns  dressed  in  black,  and  carrying  under  his  arm  a  roU  of  what,  from 
the  marbled-paper  coyerings,  were  evidently  copy-books.  We  instmctively  asked  if  he  were 
lot  the  Bchoolmaster,  and  learnt  that  he  was  then  on  his  ronnds  to  coUect  together  his 
class.  The  school  hours  commence  at  half-past  seven  in  the  morning,  and  end  at  half-past  five 
in  the  evening.  Each  class  consists  of  twenty-four  scholars,  and  these  are  changed  every 
hour.  All  the  prisoners  who  are  unable  to  read  and  write  are  forced  to  submit  to  instruction. 

We  directed  our  steps  to  the  westward  portion  of  the  main  prison,  where,  in  a  kind  of 
outbuilding,  the  classes  are  held. 

The  prison  school-room  is  about  the  size  of  an  artist's  studio,  being  large  enough  to  admit 
of  twelve  desks,  arranged  in  four  rows  in  front  of  the  open  space  where  the  master's  rostrum 
is  placed.  Each  desk  is  sufficient  for  three  scholars,  but,  to  prevent  talking,  only  two  are 
allowed,  one  at  each  end,  the  middle  place  being  kept  vacant. 

In  ordinary  schools  the  desks  are  notched  and  carved  with  names  and  initials,  or  covered 
all  over  with  writings  and  drawings ;  but  in  this  felon  academy  they  were  as  white  and  free 
fipom  ink  or  incisions  as  the  top  of  a  butterman's  counter.  Even  the  circle  of  little  black 
dots  around  the  ink  holes  were  of  that  morning's  sprinkling. 

Against  the  whitewashed  walls  were  hung  maps  as  big  as  the  sheets  of  plate-glass  in  a 
linen-draper's  window,  and  the  varnish  of  these  had  turned  yellow  as  an  old  blanket,  so  that 
although  we  knew  the  two  circles,  joined  in  the  centre  like  an  hour-glass,  to  be  the  chart  of 
the  World,  and  the  triangular-shaped  one  to  be  England  and  Wales,  yet  we  were  obliged  to 
go  up  elose  to  another  before  we  could  read  through  the  discoloured  glazing  that  it  was  the 
Holy  Land.  Over  the  master's  raised  chair  was  an  immense  black  board,  with  the  letters  of 
the  alphabet  painted  in  white  upon  it;  whilst,  to  impress  upon  the  ''  scholars  "  the  necessity 
to  be  tidy,  a  printed  maxim  is  hung  between  the  windows,  to  the  following  effect : — *'  A 
Puce  poe  Evertthifo  aitd  EvEnTTjanre  dt  its  Blace." 

Presently  the  pupils  entered,  in  a  long  line,  headed  by  the  master.  Each  prisoner 
seemed  to  know  his  seat,  for  he  went  there  as  readily  as  a  horse  to  his  stall.  AH  was  silent 
as  in  a  dumb  asylum,  the  only  sound  being  the  rustling  of  the  copy-books  on  their  being 
distributed.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  all  the  ''pupils"  were  leaning  over  the  desks, 
squaring  out  their  elbows  in  every  variety  of  position — some  with  their  tongues  poked  out  at 
the  comer  of  the  mouth,  and  others  frowning  with  their  endeavours  to  write  well. 

It  was  a  curious  sight  to  see  these  men  with  big  whiskers,  learning  the  simple  instruction 
of  a  village  school.  Some  of  them  with  their  large  fingers  cramped  up  in  the  awkward- 
ness of  first  lessons ;  others  wabbling  their  heavy  heads  about  as  they  laboured  over  the 
huge  half-inch  letters  in  their  clumsy  scrawl. 

The  schoolmaster  is  assisted  in  his  duties  by  two  prisoners,  who,  by  their  proficiency 
and  good  conduct,  have  been  raised  to  the  position  of  hearers — and  to  them  the  scholars  repeat 
thdr  lessons.  A  big  sailor-looking  man,  with  red  whiskers  growing  under  his  chin,  advanced 
to  the  hearer's  desk.  Not  a  word  was  spoken  as  the  copy-book  was  handed  in.  The  prison- 
tutor  pointed  in  silence  to  a  mistake,  the  pupil  nodded,  and,  on  another  signal,  began  to 
read  aloud  what  he  had  written,  ''  Give  to  every  man  that  asketh,  and  of  him  that  taheth  away 
%  yw4o  aok  him  not  again^ 

Another — a  lad  with  a  bandage  round  his  &ce,  and  heavy,  dingy-coloured  eyes — ^was 
sent  back  for  having  too  many  Uots  and  erasures.  This  man,  when  repeating  his  lessons, 
stumbled  over  the  sentence,  ''  There  shall  be  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth,"  calling  it 
"  genaahing"  instead. 


S20 


THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LONDOK. 


Once  the  head  master  had  occasion  to  speak.  A  lad  with  ruddy  skin,  and  light  hair, 
had  a  defect  in  his  speech,  and  could  not  pronounce  his  "  r's,"  so  that  he  read  out,  '*  What- 
soever is  wight  that  shall  ye  weceive."  "i)o  try  and  pronounce  your  *r's'  hetter,"  said 
the  master,  kindly ;  and  thereupon  there  was  a  shuffling  of  feet  from  the  other  pupils,  ajB 
if  the  only  method  of  laughing  under  the  silent  system  was  with  the  shoes. 

The  books— of  which  there  are  three — from  which  the  prisoners  ore  taught  are  all 
printed  and  bound  by  prisoner  workmen  in  the  jail.  In  the  first  book  the  lessons  are  of  the 
simplest  form,  beginning  with  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  then  gradually  comprising  letters 
and  words  mixed  up  together,  and  concluding  with  short  sentences.  In  the  second  lesson 
book  one  of  the  objects  of  the  instruction  is  to  make  the  pupils,  by  means  of  nonsense 
sentences,  pay  attention  to  the  copy  before  them,  for  they  are  apt  to  read,  we  were  told,  only 
the  commencement  of  a  sentence,  and  jump  at  the  meaning  of  the  remaining  portion. 
Accordingly  these  lessons  are  made  into  kinds  of  puzzles,  like  the  following : — ''  train  sare 
thirst  ring  train  thou  shall  soap  save  train  pick  thou."  The  third  book  contains  lessons  from 
the  gospels ;  and  by  the  time  the  scholar  is  able  to  copy  out  and  read  those  correctly,  his 
education,  as  far  as  the  prison  limit  of  reading  and  writing  is  concerned,  is  supposed  to  be 
completed.* 

\*  Chapel. — The  chapel  is  situate  immediately  over  the  entrance  hall  of  the  maoi  or 
felons*  prison.  It  is  a  kite-shaped,  triangular  building,  seeming  as  if  it  were  some  spare 
corner  of  the  prison  that  had  been  devoted  to  the  purpose ;  the  clergyman's  place — for  you 
can  hardly  call  the  little  desk  and  arm-chair  set  apart  for  the  minister  a  pulpit — ^being  in 
a  kind  of  small  gallery  at  the  apex  of  the  triangle,  and  the  seats  for  the  prisoners  below 
towards  the  base.  Eeckoning  the  seats  in  the  gallery  and  on  the  ground,  there  is  room  for 
about  600  men. 

The  chapel  is  certainly  a  primitive  and  curious  building.     There  are  three  compartments 


*   TA.BLB  8HOWINO  THE  8TATB  OF  INSTIirCTTON  OF  THE  PRTSONSB8   IX  COLDBaTU  FIKLDft  PBI80N,   VO& 

THE  TEAli  ENDING  MICHAELMAS,    1855. 


Can  neither  read  nor  write 

Can  read  only 

Can  read  or  write,  or  both,  imperfectly 


2,172 

395 

3,556 


Can  read  and  write  well 
Superior  education    . 


Total 


6,123 


*'  An  average  of  144  prisoners,"  says  the  last  annual  report  of  the  chaplains,  *'are  daily  under  instrac- 
tion ;"  and  of  309  who  passed  through  the  school  during  the  year,  the  state  of  instruction  on  admiiwioa  and 
discharge,  respectively,  is  represented  in  the  following  table : — 


On  Admission. 

On  Disciuurge. 

BfATX  OP  Education  op  FaxsoNKRB. 

Total. 

Neither 

read  nor 

write. 

1 

Read 
imper. 
feotiy. 

Read 

and 

write 

iinper- 

feetly. 

Bead 
and 

write 
toler- 
ably. 

R?ad 
and    ) 
write  ' 
well,    j 

Total.  , 

Number  that  could  neither  read  nor  write  . 
„         „          read  imperfectly   . 
„         „          read  and  write  imperfectly    . 
„         „          read  and  write  tolerably 

Total 

52 

138 

HI 

8 

12 

•   • 
«  • 
■  • 

18 
22 

«   • 
•   • 

17 
54 
16 

•  « 

87 

5 
42 
42 

2 

• . 

20 

51 

6 

62    ! 
138 
111 
8 

309    !|     12 

40 

91 

77    ■ 

309 

TABLE  SHOWING  TEE  AGES  OP  THE  FRTSOXERS  IN   C0U)3ATH   FIELDS  PllISON,   FOtt  THE    TBAE 

ENDING  MICHAELMAS,    1855. 

45  years  and  nnder  CO      .  *         631 

60  years  and  upwards       .... 


Under  17  years  of  age 
17  years  and  under  21 
21  „  „  30 
80         ..        .,         45 


1,682 
2,155 
1,499 


Total 


156 
6^123 


Proportion  under  30  years  of  age  . 
Proportion  30  years  and  upwards 


62*6  per  cent. 
87-3       „ 


H0TT8E  OF  COEEECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  821 

on  the  groimd-fioor,  aad  three  in  the  gallery,  separated  from  each  other  by  a  tall,  strong, 
wooden  partitioni  so  that  each  storey  presents  somewhat  the  appearance  of  a  huge  three - 
stalled  stable.  Instead  of  paneUing  in  front  of  the  men,  as  in  other  chapels,  stout  iron  bars 
rise  up,  close  set  togeilier,  such  as  would  be  placed  before  an  elephant's  cage. 

The  governor,  in  lieu  of  a  pew,  has  a  comfortable  arm-chair  placed  in  the  gallery,  on 
one  side  of  the  chaplain's  desk,  and  another  row  of  arm-chairs  is  arranged  as  tidily  as 
against  a  drawing-room  wall,  to  receive  visitors  and  the  principal  warders.  Immediately 
under  the  gallery,  on  the  ground-floor,  is  the  communion-table,  and  on  one  side  of  it  hangs 
a  notice-board,  stating  that  ^^  GomnTNiCAifTs  nssiBors  of  paxtaxutg  of  the  Sacsahent" 
must  give  due  notice  to  the  clergyman. 

On  entering  liie  chapel,  in  company  with  the  governor,  we  found  the  felon  congregation 
already  assembled,  each  cage  being  as  closely  packed  with  men  as  the  gallery  of  a  cheap 
theatre.  On  one  side  of  the  dirty-gray  mass  of  prisoners,  stood  up  the  dark-uniformed 
warder.  All  the  men  had  their  caps  off,  showing  every  variety  of  coloured  hair.  There 
was  one  man,  a  big  square-shouldered  negro,  whose  white  eyes,  as  he  rolled  them  about, 
seemed  like  specks  of  light  shining  through  holes  in  his  dark  skin ;  and  we  also  observed  a 
Malay,  with  his  slanting  eyes  and  dried  mummy  skin,  whose  long,  straight  hair  hung  from 
his  pointed  skoll  like  the  tassel  on  a  fez.  Nearly  all  the  congregation  appeared  to  be  youths, 
for  we  could  only  here  and  there  distinguish  a  bald  or  white  head.  Some  of  these  elderly 
sinners  had  spectacles  on,  and  were  busily  hunting  out  in  their  Bible  the  lessons  to  be  read 
that  day.    The  building  was  silent  as  a  criminal  court  when  sentence  is  being  passed. 

When  the  prayer  was  ended,  a  sudden  shout  of  ''Amen  "  filled  the  building,  so  loud  and 
instantaneous,  that  it  made  us  turn  round  in  our  chair  with  surprise ;  the  500  tongues  had 
been  for  a  moment  released  from  their  captivity  of  silence,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  privi- 
lege was  evinced  by  its  noisiness.  It  was  wonderful  to  watch  the  men  as  they  made  their 
responses.  No  opera  chorus  could  have  kept  better  time.  The  chaplain's  voice,  as  it  read 
the  next  line,  appeared  like  a  weak  whisper,  so  deadened  was  the  ear ;  but  in  a  little  while 
we  began  to  grow  accustomed  to  the  discharges  of  sound.  We  could  see,  too,  that  the  men 
took  pleasure  in  their  prayers.  Whether  they  understood  the  true  meaning  of  the  words  they 
uttered  we  cannot  tell,  but  they  knew  the  drill  of  the  service  as  perfectly  as  a  parish  clerk, 
and  appeared  to  be  aware  that  the  only  time  when  they  might  raise  their  voices  and  break 
through  the  dumbness  man  had  imposed  upon  them,  was  when  they  were  addressing  their 
God,  so  that  to  them  the  consolation  of  prayer  must  be  especially  great. 

One  of  the  lessons  of  the  day  was  the  7th  chapter  of  St.  Luke,  and  to  it  the  prisoners 
listened  with  the  earnestness  of  children  hearing  a  story.  As  soon  as  the  chapter  was  given 
out,  some  of  the  men  opened  their  Bibles,  and,  wetting  their  thumbs,  turned  the  leaves  over 
rapidly  as  they  sought  for  the  page ;  others  at  first  sat  still,  but  as  the  clergyman  pro- 
gressed, their  interest  became  aroused,  and  they  leant  their  bodies  forward,  some  resting 
their  heads  on  their  hands,  others  with  their  ears  turned  towards  the  make-shift  pulpit  as  if 
to  catch  every  sentence  of  the  sacred  history. 

The  first  passage  that  appeared  to  fix  their  attention  was  that  describing  how  the 
widow's  only  son  was  restored  to  lile.  Probably,  many  of  llicm  had  never  before  heard  of 
the  mirade,  for  as  the  words  were  spoken,  ''  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise !"  a  kind  of 
wondering  fear  seemed  to  agitate  the  felons,  as  of  old  it  did  the  men  of  Nain.  The  congre- 
gation was  greatly  interested  as  it  listened  to  how  a  woman  in  the  city,  *'  which  was  a 
sinner,"  brought  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment  and  anointed  the  Saviour's  feet,  as  he  sat 
at  meat  in  the  Pharisee's  house.  It  seemed  to  us  that  they  could  hardly  comprehend  the 
motive  which  prompted  her  **  to  wash  his  feet  with  tears,"  and  wipe  them  with  the  hair  of 
her  head  and  kiss  them,  and  they  appeared  to  be  expecting  to  hear  of  some  great  rcw  ard 
having  been  given  to  her. 

When  the  morning  service  had  ended,  the  erring  flock,  under  the  guidance  of  the 
28« 


322  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

warders,  left  their  pews  in  the  chapel,  and  in  a  few  moments  afterwards  were  oocnpied  with 
their  different  prison  duties. 

On  Sunday  aU  the  men  are  taken  to  divine  service  once  a  day,  part  in  the  morning  and 
the  remainder  in  the  afternoon;  for  the  chapel  in  the  felons'  prison  contains  only  507  sittingB, 
and  that  in  the  misdemeanants'  prison  but  274 ;  and  as  the  usual  number  of  prisoners  in 
the  entire  building  is  seldom  below  1,800,  of  course  only  half  of  that  number  can  attend 
seryice  at  one  time.  Those  who  are  left  behind  are  not,  however,  allowed  to  remain  without 
religious  instruction.  Three  men  in  each  yard  have  been  appointed  by  the  chaplain  to  read 
aloud  to  their  feUow-prisoners,  and  each  relieves  the  other  every  half-hour.  The  book  for 
the  Simday^s  reading  is  issued  by  the  chaplain.  It  is  of  a  purely  religious  character,  and  is 
usually  "  The  Fenny  Sunday  Header,"  containing  short  sermons.  Tracts  are  also  distributed 
in  the  different  yards,  so  that  those  who  prefer  reading  to  themselves,  instead  of  listening  to 
what  is  being  read  aloud,  may  do  so. 

The  governor  informed  us  that  this  reading  aloud  is  so  much  liked  by  the  prisoners,  tiiat 
it  is  not  an  unfrequent  occurrence  for  boys  who,  for  some  breach  of  the  prison  discipline, 
have  been  placed  in  solitary  confinement,  to  send  him  a  request  to  be  allowed  to  be  present 
in  their  yards  whilst  the  reading  is  going  on.  Surely  this  excellent  principle  of  reading 
aloud  to  the  prisoners  might  be  appUed  on  a  week-day,  in  the  oakum-picking  room  at  least* 
and  the  silent  system  be  thereby  made  productive  of  some  positive  good.* 


The  Prison  AceommodaUon,  CeHU^  and  Dormitories. 

The  extent  of  accommodation  at  Coldbath  Fields  prison  has  already  been  mentioned  (at 
page  281).  The  prison  is  capable  of  holding,  altogether,  1,453  persons,  and  919  (or,  as  at 
Tothill  Fields,  not  quite  two-thirds  of  the  whole)  of  these  can  be  accommodated  with  sepa- 
rate sleeping  cells.  The  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  in  the  year  ending  MichaebnaB, 
1855,  was  1,388,  while  the  greatest  number  at  any  one  time  during  that  year  was  1,495 ;  so 
that  occasionally  the  prison  contains  three  per  cent,  more  than  it  has  prf^m  aecommodatum 
for.  The  gross  prison  population,  i.e,^  the  number  of  different  individuals  who  were  confined 
within  the  walls  in  the  same  year,  amounted  to  9,180;  of  these,  1,437  were  remaining  in 
custody  at  the  end  of  the  previous  year,  and  the  other  7,743  ''passed  through''  the 
prison  in  the  course  of  that  ending  Michaelmas,  1855. 

*^*  Celh. — ^As  regards  the  ''  separate  sleeping  cells,"  of  which  we  have  seen  there  are 
919  altogelher,  they  differ  in  size  in  each  of  the  three  different  prisons,  which  make  up 
the  entire  House  of  Correction.     The  largest  are  to  be  found  in  the  old  building,  erected 

*  The  greater  proportion  of  the  books  given  out  to  the  prisoxien  are  those  published  by  the  ''  ChriBtian 
Knowledge  Society."    The  following  is  a  list  of  some  of  the  other  volames  cxrcnlated  in  the  prison : — 


Chambers's  Misoellaneous  Tracts,  in  volumes. 

The  Home  Friend,  in  volumes. 

The  Leisure  Hour,  „ 

Knighf  s  Shilling  Volumes. 

Travels  by  Land  and  Sea. 

A  number  of  small  Biographical  Works. 

Histoiy  of  England. 

The  Library  consists  of— Bibles  ....    1,200 

Prayer  Books       .        .        .    1,290 
Other  volames  .    1,880 


History  of  Ireland. 

n        Scotland. 

„        France. 
Histories  of  various  other  ooantries. 
Lives  of  the  Befonnen. 
Works  of  the  Befonners. 
A  variety  of  Tracts  and  purely  Beligioua  Books. 


HOTTSE  OF  COEBECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  323 

in  1794,  and  now  set  apart  for  felons ;  next  in  space  come  those  appropriated  to  the  vagrants, 
built  in  1830;  and  the  smallest  ones  are  those  situate  in  the  misdemeanant's  prison,  con- 
gtracted  in  1832.  We  shall  describe  the  ceUs  we  visited  in  the  felons'  prison,  for  these  may 
be  oonadered  as  the  best  form  of  the  separate  sleeping  apartments  in  the  entire  establishment. 
The  oeUs  are  sitoate  in  the  wings  and  corridors,  on  the  first  and  second  floors  of  the 
building,  as  well  as  on  one  side  of  all  the  eight  exercising  yards.  The  entrance  to  each  cell 
is  guarded  by  a  narrow  door,  solid  as  that  of  a  fire-proof  deed-box,  and  just  wide  enough  to 
allow  a  man  to  enter,  whilst  heavy  bars  and  bolts  make  the  &stenings  secure.  Every  one  of 
fhem  is  eight  feet  two  inches  long  by  six  feet  two  inches  broad,  and  has  an  arched  groined 
roof  springing  from  the  sides,  at  an  elevation  of  six  feet,  until  it  attains  its  highest  pitch  of 
ten  feet.  If  it  were  not  for  the  height  of  the  apartment,  the  chamber  would  be  about  the 
gise  of  an  ordinary  coal-oellar. 

The  wallB  and  roof  are  brilliant  with  whitewash,  so  that  one  could  almost  imagine  the 
cell  to  have  been  dug  out  of  some  chalk  diff,  and  the  stone  flooring  has  been  holy-stoned 
imtil  it  is  as  dean  as  the  door-step  of  a  ''  servants'  home."  Fastened  up  to  hooks  set  in  the 
stone-work,  and  stretching  across  at  the  furthest  end,  is  the  hammock  of  cocoa-nut  fibre, 
brown  and  bending  as  a  strip  of  mahogany  veneer,  with  the  bed-dothes  folded  up  in  the 
coimterpane  rug,  tightly  as  a  carpet-bag.  Hanging  up  against  the  wall  are  boards,  on  which 
are  pasted  printed  forms  of  the  morning  and  evening  prayer,  as  well  as  "A  few  Texts 
rsox  THX  BxBLB,"  which  latter  paper  has  been  compiled,  we  believe,  by  the  governor 
bim8elf--eveir  earnest  in  his  efforts  to  effect  the  religious  reformation  of  the  criminals  under 
his  charge.     A  wooden  stool  completes  the  furniture  of  the  cell. 

Oyer  the  door  is  a  fEmlight  window,  glazed  inside,  and  protected  without  by  heavy  cross- 
bars.   In  some  of  the  cells  another  grated  opening  is  let  into  the  back  wall. 

Ab  we  entered  the  cell  it  fdt  diilly  as  a  dairy,  so  we  asked  the  warder  if  it  were  not 
cold.  "Not  at  ally"  was  the  answer.  "In  summer  the  men  like  being  in  the  cells,  in  winter 
they  prefer  the  dormitories."  This  desire  on  the  part  of  the  prisoners  to  quit  the  cells  in 
winter,  induced  ns  to  inquire  whether,  during  the  cold  weather,  the  building  were  not  heated 
bj  hot  air  or  hot  water-pipes.  We  were  much  startled  to  find  that  no  such  attention  had  been 
shown  to  the  necessities  of  the  wretched  inmates.  Again,  seeing  that  no  arrangements  had 
been  made  for  lighting  the  apartment  with  gas,  we  asked  how  the  men  managed  for  light  in 
winter  when,  long  before  the  loddng-up  time,  the  night  has  set  in,  and  it  is  perfectly  dark 
at  the  time  of  their  entering  the  cells.  We  were  informed  that  the  men  in  the  separate  cells 
went  to  bed,  although  in  the  dormitories,  where  gas  exists,  they  are  allowed  to  remain 
reading  nntO.  ten  o'dock.  Again,  we  found  that  no  proviedon  had  been  made  to  enable  a 
prisoner  to  call  for  assistance  in  case  he  was  taken  ill  during  the  night,  and  that  his  only 
chance  of  hdp  under  such  circumstances,  depended  upon  his  ability  to  make  sufident  noise 
to  attract  att^tion.    Further,  the  ventilation  of  the  chamber  was  most  imperfect. 

Kow,  it  does  not  require  many  lines  to  point  out  the  defective  condition  of  such  places. 
It  was  not  the  object  of  the  law  which  condemned  these  criminals  to  lose  their  liberty,  that 
they  should  be  deprived  likewise  of  warmth,  light,  assLstance  in  sickness,  and  pure  air.  If  their 
sins  against  sodety  require  that  they  should  be  shut  out  from  the  fellowship  of  the  world,  it 
forms  no  part  of  their  sentence  that  they  should  suffer  also  the  colds  of  winter — that  if 
suddenly  afflicted  or  attacked  by  a  fit  (such  as  we  have  detailed  as  occurring  in  the  oakum- 
room,  aoddents,  we  were  told,  that  are  in  no  way  of  rare  occurrence),  they  should  have  no 
means  of  invoking  immediate  assistance,  or  that,  in  order  to  obtain  air  fit  to  breathe,  they 
should  be  forced  to  run  the  risk  of  an  open  window  afflicting  them  with  influenza  or  catarrh. 
Why  should  books  be  given  out  and  yet  gas-light  denied  to  those  in  separate  cells,  especially 
when,  in  the  dormitories,  their  no  less  culpable,  but  more  fortunate,  companions  in  guilt 
are  passing  their  time  in  perusing  some  volume  ? 

By  the  2nd  and  drd  Yictoria,  cap.  56,  it  is  enacted  that  no  cell  shall  be  used  for  separate 


324 


THE  GREA.T  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


coa&txemeiit  which  is  not  of  sach  a  size,  and  lighted,  warmed,  ventilated,  and  fitted  up  in 
such  a  manner,  as  may  be  required  by  a  due  regard  to  health,  and  famished  with  the  means  of 
enabling  the  prisoner  to  communicate  at  any  time  with  an  officer  of  the  prison.  Yet,  because 
at  Coldbath  Fields  the  prison  is  conducted  on  the  silent  system,  and  the  inmate  is  separately 
confined  for  only  twelve  instead  of  twenty-four  hours  of  the  day,  the  Act  does  not  affect  the 
matter ;  and  a  cell  which  belonged  to  the  barbarous  prison  times  of  the  past  century,  which 
affords  a  shelter  scarcely  superior. to  that  of  a  coal-ceUar,  is  appointed  as  the  sleeping-place 
of  a  man  who  may  have  to  pass  three  years  of  his  existence  within  it.  Either  the  cells  at 
PentonviUe  are  wantonly  luxurious,  or  those  at  Coldbath  Fields  disgracefully  defective. 

Bat  if  the  cells  in  the  old  prison,  built  in  1794,  are  bad,  what  excase  can  be  made  for  the 
negligent  humanity  which  permitted  those  in  the  more  modem  buildings  erected  in  1830, 
and  set  apart  for  the  vagrants  and  misdemeanants,  not  only  to  be  planned  after  the  old 
model,  but  also  to  be  made  smaller  by  several  inches  in  length  as  well  as  breadth.  In  the 
more  primitive  felons*  jail  one  might  expect  to  meet  with  defective  arrangements;  but  in  a 
comparatively  modem  building  it  is  shocking  to  find  that  even  a  less  enlightened  scale  of 
accommodation  has  been  adopted.* 

The  prison  authorities  assert  that  the  ventilation  of  the  ceUs  is  sufficient  and  healthy. 
They  point  triumphantly  to  the  extremely  sanitary  condition  of  the  prison — ^the  healthiest 
in  London  they  say.  In  answer  to  this  we  urge  that  the  House  of  Correction  is  a  short- 
sentence  prison,  where  offenders  are  sent  for  terms  averaging  £rom  three  days  to  three  years, 
and  the  returns  do  not  admit  of  its  being  compared  as  to  its  dail^  average  amount  of  sicknen 
with  that  of  other  prisons.  From  the  prison  returns  for  the  year  1855,  we  learn  that  out 
of  the  7,743  prisoners  committed  to  Coldbath  Fields  during  the  twelve  months,  1,796  were 
for  terms  under  fourteen  days — 1,424  for  terms  under  one  month — 2,342  for  terms  under 
three  months,  and  974  for  less  than  six  months.^  These  form  a  total  of  6,536  prisoners  for 
terms  ranging  firom  seven  days  to  less  than  six  months,  and  there  remain  only  1,207  for 
the  longer  sentences.! 

The  prisoners  are  locked  up  for  twelve  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four.    We  will,  for  the 

*  The  following  table  oontaina  the  number  of  cubic  feet  of  air  contained  ia  the  different  sized  cells  of 
the  House  of  Correction : — 

In  tho  old  or  Felons'  prison        ....  602 

In  the  Misdemeanants'  prison 337 

In  tho  Yagrants'  prison 375 

Whilst  the  amount  of  air  contained  in  a  cell  of  the  Model  Prison  at  Pentonyille  amounts  to  911  cubic  feet. 

t  TABLE  8H0WINO  THB  TEB3CS   OF  IMFBISONUBNT   OF  THE  FB1S017EB8  CONFINED  IN  OOLDBATH  FISLDS 

PRISON  IN  THE  COUBSB  OF  THE  TEAR  ENDINO  MI0UAELHA8,    1855. 


Sbmtskcbs. 

Under 
Sammary 
Conviction 

After 
Trial. 

Total. 

Per 

Ccntagc 

Under  14  days            

14  days,  and  under  1  month       . 

1  month,  and  under  2  montlis    . 

2  months,  and  under  3  months  . 

3  months,  and  under  6  months  . 
6  months,  and  under  1  year 

1  year,  and  under  2  years 

2  years,  and  under  3  years 

3  years,  and  upwards         .... 
Unlimited  terms  of  imprisonment 
Transferred  to  other  governors    . 
Whipped,  fined,  or  discharged  on  sureties 
Sentence  deferred       .... 

1,786 

1,4U 

1,630 

C60 

538 

95 

10 

10 

14 

38 

436 

633 

282 

20 

177 

1.796 

1,424 

1,644 

698 

974 

728 

282 

20 

177 

23 
21 
19 

9 
12 

9 

4 

0-2 

2 
99*2 

Total 

• 

6,123 

1,620 

7,743 

HOUSE  OF  COEEECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  325 

sake  of  tlie  argnment,  suppose  it  to  be  winter  time,  when  the  windows  are  all  closed  to  increase 
the  warmth.  The  dosely-shut  cell  in  the  felon  prison  contains  502  cubic  feet  of  air.  A  man 
breathes  about  twenty  times  in  a  minute,  inhaling  about  eighteen  pints  of  air  in  that  time ; 
or,  reducing  the  calculation  to  cubic  feet,  we  may  say  he  consumes  about  sixty  cubic  feet 
of  air  in  the  twelve  hours,  evolYing  in  the  same  period  twelve  cubic  feet  of  carbonic  acid  gas. 
Now,  carbonic  acid  gas  is  an  extremely  noxious  poison — ^indeed,  one  measure  of  it  mixed  with 
fioe  of  the  atmosphere,  is  fatal  to  life.  Even  when  present  in  very  minute  quantities,  it  is 
highly  injurious  to  health.  Professor  Brando  tells  us  that,  "  when  so  far  diluted  with  air  a« 
to  admit  of  being  received  into  the  limgs,  it  operates  as  a  narcotic  poison,  producing  drowsi- 
ness and  insensibility."  And  further  on  he  adds — ''  When  the  gas  is  inspired  in  the  lowest 
poisonous  proportion,  the  symptoms  come  on  very  gradually,  and  the  tnmsition  from  life  to 
death  is  usually  tranquil;  this  is  what  we  learn  from  the  history  of  suicides." 

The  scienldflc  gentlemen  appointed  to  report  upon  what  should  be  the  si^e  of  the  sepa- 
rate cells  at  Pentonville  prison  decided  that  tho  health  of  the  inmate  required  at  least 
911  cubic  feet  of  air,  and,  even  with  this  capacity,  it  was  found  necessary  to  alter  the 
ventilation,  so  that  perfect  health  might  be  maintained.  Now,  is  it  not  unjust  that  men 
ordered  to  perform  ''  hard  labour"  should  be  doomed  to  pass  twelve  hours  of  the  day  in 
an  atmosphere  which  produces  ^'drowsiness  and  insensibility,"  and  so  unfits  them  for 
their  work  ? 

We  were  likewise  assured  that  even  the  cold  of  a  winter's  night,  passed  in  a  stone-walled 
and  paved  cell,  so  far  from  being  injurious  to  the  inmates,  is,  on  the  contrary,  invigorating 
and  healthy.  A  man  leaving  a  warmed  apartment,  we  were  reminded,  is  very  liable  to 
catch  cold,  and  the  warders  themselves  say  that  they  never  sujSer  so  much  from  the  cold  as 
after  leaving  a  fire. 

That  the  prisoners  themselves  feel  the  chilliness  of  the  cells  acutely  is  proved  by  their 
stopping  up  with  their  clothes  the  cracks  and  openings  of  the  doors.  Some  time  since, 
during  a  severe  winter,  a  man  perished  in  his  cell— it  was  thought,  from  cold.  Cold  forms  no 
portion  o{  the  prisoner's  sentence  ,*  and  until  it  does,  the  air  in  the  stone  cells  of  Goldbath 
Fields  prison  should  be  raised  above  freezing  point.  Moreover,  the  surgeon's  printed  report 
tdls  us  that  seventeen  deaths  out  of  the  twenty-nine,  or  more  than  58  per  cent,  of  those 
which  occurred  in  the  course  of  last  year,  are  recorded  to  have  been  **  labouring  under  various 
affections  of  the  substance  of  the  lungs  and  bronchial  passages ;"  in  plain  English,  to  have 
died  from  the  effects  of  cold.* 

The  prison  authorities  themselves  do  not  offer  a  word  of  excuse  for  not  lighting  up  the 
cells.  In  winter  it  is  dark  when  the  men  are  locked  up  in  them,  and  it  is  dark  when  they  rise, 
so  that  twelve  hours  are  passed  in  total  obscurity.  Even  some  of  tho  cells  in  the  galleries  are 
in  Btunmer  so  obscure  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  anything  in  them  beyond  the  white- 
washed walls.  Again  we  say,  why  give  the  men  books,  if  the  only  time  when  it  is  possible 
to  read  them  is  to  be  passed  in  darkness  ?    We  should  see  the  absurdity  of  presenting  a 

«    TABLB  BHOWINO  THB  KUMBER  OF  CASES  OF  8ICKNSS8,  LUNACY,  AND  DEATH,  IN  THE  C0UH6B 

OF  THE  YEAH  ZNBING  MICHAELMAS,    1855. 


Slirht  indifpoBition 1,916 

Infimary  Caws 131 

Total 2,047 


Lunatics 4 

Pardons  on  medical  grounds  .  .16 

Deaths  ,        .        i 29 

Greatest  number  of  sick  at  any  time  .    62 

Daily  average  number  of  sick         .        .  not  given 

Of  the  twenty-nine  who  died,  seventeen  are  recorded,  says  the  surgeon's  report,  as  haying  laboured  under 
the  TBrious  affections  of  the  substance  of  the  lungs  and  the  bronchial  passages.  "  Amongst  the  great  yariety 
of  compUunta,"  it  is  added,  '*  boils  of  a  carbuncular  form  have  been  very  prevalent,  and  numerous  abscesses 
have  oocuired.  The  number  of  these  cases  has  been  singularly  great  this  year,  amounting  to  209,  some  of  a 
very  fonnidable  character,  and  one  proving  fatal.  Of  feigned  complaints  Uio  number  has  been  considerable — 
3)972."— ifr.  WkkeJUltti  R^pwi  to  th$  JmHceifir  the  Cknmty. 


326  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

library  to  a  blind  school;  and  yet  is  not  this  instance  somewhat  parallel?  Confining  a 
rebellious  prisoner  in  a  dark  cell  forms  the  greatest  punishment  the  governor  has  power 
to  inflict,  and  yet  to  lock  up  unoffending  prisoners  in  an  unlighted  chamber  for  twelve  hours 
daily  is  the  ordinary  routine  of  this  prison.* 

As  regards  the  defective  arrangements  for  enabling  the  prisoners  to  call  for  aBmstancey  if 
attacked  by  sickness  in  the  night,  we  were  told  that  a  watchman  patrols  each  prison, 
visiting  every  yard  once  in  the  half  hour.  Nevertheless,  the  fact  of  several  sadden  deaths 
having  occurred  in  the  cells  demands,  in  our  opinion,  some  such  arrangements  as  exbt  at 
Pentonville, 

It  appears,  however,  that  there  is  every  probability  of  the  prison  being  pulled  down,  a 
railway  company,  whose  line  is  to  pass  through  the  building,  having  undertaken  to  erect 
another  prison  in  lieu  of  the  existing  one. 

In  conclusion,  however,  we  should  remind  the  reader  that  the  defects  here  pointed  out 
are  defects  of  the  old  school  of  prison  economy,  and  evidence  rather  as  to  the  slight  regard 
that  was  paid  even  to  the  physical  necessities  of  prisoners  only  a  few  years  ago,  than  aa  to 
any  dereliction  of  duty  on  the  part  of  the  present  authorities.  It  is  easy  to  rebuild  jails 
after  the  very  best  model — upon  paper  ;  but  not  quite  so  easy  for  visiting  justices  to  make 
improvements  in  them  out  of  a  limited  coimty-rate ;  and  let  us  in  fairness  add,  that  every 
exertion  is  used  by  the  present  governor  to  render  the  House  of  Correction  at  Coldbath  Fields 
as  commodious  and  salutary  as  possible  under  the  circumstances. 

*^*  Dormitories. — ^By  the  aid  of  spacious  sleeping-rooms  the  felons'  prison,  which  contains 
only  356  cells,  is  made  to  accommodate  889  prisoners.  There  are  altogether  five  such 
apartments  at  Coldbath  Fields,  all  situate  in  the  old  portion  of  the  building,  and  built  on  the 
same  plan,  the  smallest  capable  of  making  up  82  beds,  the  largest  101. 

The  dormitories  are  eighty-three  feet  in  length,  and  twenty-five  feet  broad ;  and  if  the 
pointed  roofs,  with  their  grained  tie-beams,  were  more  lofty,  they  would  do  very  well  for 
rude  chapels.  At  one  end  are  the  lavatories,  made  out  of  slate,  with  a  porcelain  basin 
let  into  each  of  the  ten  divisions,  the  bright  brass  button  showing  that  water  is  cdhtinually 
laid  on. 

The  manner  in  which  the  hammocks  are  arranged  is  ingenious  enough,  for  every  inch  of 
space  is  taken  advantage  of.  Four  stout  iron  bars,  resting  on  supports  a  foot  from  the  floor, 
run  along  the  entire  length  of  the  building,  the  first  next  the  passage,  like  a  long  thick 
curtain-rod  just  above  the  ground,  and  the  others  ranged  at  a  distance  of  six  feet  from  each 
other.  To  these  bars  the  hammocks  are  suspended,  so  that  three  rows  are  obtained,  while  a 
passage  of  some  five  feet  wide  along  one  side  of  the  room  is  still  left  for  the  warders  to  patrol 
up  and  down  during  the  night. 

During  the  day-time,  when  the  bed-clothes  are  folded  up  into  a  dose  bundle,  and  the 
brown  cocoa-nut  fibre  of  the  hammocks  is  visible,  the  rows  of  tightly-stretched  beds  attached 
at  either  end  to  the  long  iron  bars  seem  interminable.  They  form  a  kind  of  raised  plat- 
form, gradually  slanting  upwards  to  the  wall,  as  if  they  were  so  many  sacks  that  had  beea 
carelessly  laid  across  the  rails. 

Here,  hanging  against  the  wall,  is  a  line  of  printed  forms  of  the  morning  and  evening 
prayers,  ranged  like  the  slates  in  a  school-room. 

The  men  lie  with  their  heads  to  each  other's  feet,  and,  being  near  the  ground,  the 
warders,  on  their  raised  stools,  can  command  a  bird's-eye  view  of  all  the  sleepers.     The 

*  In  the  year  1850  the  Committee  on  Prison  Discipline  reported  as  follows : — ''  That  in  regard  to  some  of 
the  details  of  discipline  which  have  been  brought  before  them,  this  Committee  recommends  that  the  means 
of  lighting  every  cell  (except  cells  for  an  infraction  of  prison  rules)  shoidd  be  proyided  in  every  pzison,  uid 
that  no  priioner  should  be  left  in  darkne$9for  tnore  than  a  maximum  dne,  which  can  he  regmndfir  reet^  ru., 
ei0ht  houre. 


HOUSE  or  COERECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  827 

Bides  of  ibe  hammooka  oarl  round  the  priBonen^  iannB,  so  that  they  look  like  so  many 
mmnmieB  ranged  along  three  deep. 

We  paid  a  night  Tiait  to  these  doradtorieay  and  the  sight  was  most  cnrions.  When  we 
reached  the  prison  it  was  past  eight  o'clock,  and  all  the  prisoners  were  locked  np  in  their 
oeUs,  so  thf^  the  hnilding  i^peared  deserted.  The  only  warder  we  met  was  in  the  crypt- 
like corridar,  and  he  wore  over  his  hoots  slippers  of  flannel,  gliding  in  and  out  of  the 
eolnnms  noiselessly  as  a  spectre.  Though  it  was  yet  day-light,  we  could  hear,  as  we  passed 
the  different  ceUs,  the  heavy  snoring  or  the  restless  tossing  of  the  inmates. 

When  we  reached  the  dormitory,  the  i^pearance  of  the  place  had  curiously  changed 
nnoe  the  morning.  The  men  were  neariy  all  lying  down,  some  asleep,  others  stretched 
oat  on  their  hacks,  staring  up  at  the  timher  roof,  and  all  were  eoyered  over  with  their 
brown-red  rugs.  So  silent  was  the  room,  it  seemed  like  an  immense  dead-house — as  if  we 
had  entered  some  huge  ''morgue,"  where  some  hundred  corpses  were  hud  out  on  the  floor 
before  us. 

Some  oi  the  men  were  sleeping  with  their  dothes  on,  and  as  if  they  had  thrown  themsdves 
down  tired  with  the  day's  ''hard  labour ;"  others,  with  their  forms  curled  up  till  the  knees 
nearly  touched  the  chest,  had  stowed  themselyes  away  for  the  night,  for  under  the  head  was 
the  pillow  of  roDed-up  dothes. 

We  had  expected  to  find  some  of  the  prisoners  sitting  up  in  their  hammodu  reading ; 
bat,  dthough  it  was  hroad  day-light,  not  one  had  a  book  in  his  hand — the  men  being, 
probably,  too  tired  with  their  day's  work  to  care  for  anything  but  rest. 

As  the  erening  progressed,  some  of  the  prisoners,  who  had  been  dozing  with  their 
clothes  on,  seemed  to  wake  up  and  become  aware  that  they  had  better  prepare  for  the  night's 
rest  80  they  got  up  dowly,  like  persons  half-adeep,  and  began  to  undress  themsdves.  It 
was  a  relief  to  see  a  human  being  stirnrng,  for  it  proTed  that  life  existed  in  the  prostrate 
crowd  before  us. 

Close  to  where  the  warders  sat  were  two  rings  of  gas  burning  beneath  tin  pots,  from 
which  issued  the  curling  steam  of  the  coffee  allowed  for  the  officers'  refreshment  through 
the  night. 

It  has  been  asserted  that  a  great  deal  of  conversation  is  carried  on  between  the  prisoners 
in  these  dormitories  as  the  men  lie  huddled  there  together.  We  certainly  did  not  hear  any 
talking,  and  the  place  was  as  still  as  a  church  in  the  night ;  the  heads  of  the  prisoners, 
however,  are  within  a  foot  of  each  other,  and  the  ear  is  hardly  to  be  relied  on  in  such  a  case ; 
'  for  it  nmy  he  easily  deluded  by  the  lowness  of  the  whisper,  so  that  the  matter  resolves 
itself  into  a  trid  of  skill  between  the  quickness  of  the  warder,  and  the  cunning  of  the 
prisoner. 

As  we  peeped,  at  a  later  hour,  through  the  little  inspection-hole  in  the  closed  door  of 
the  doimitory,  we  oould  see  those  who  were  conversing  together.  One  of  the  men 
was  lying  flat  on  his  back,  with  his  handkerchief  raised  to  his  mouth,  and  though  the  eye 
on  the  side  towards  the  warder  was  shut  as  if  in  sleep,  the  other  one  was  wide  open,  and 
kept  on  winking  at  his  apparently  dumbering  neighbour,  in  a  manner  which  showed  that 
the  two  men  were  having  a  nice  quiet  diat  together.  The  two  warders,  however,  were  not 
near  enough  to  hear  this  infringement  of  the  role,  and  had  we  ourselves  not  advanced  very 
dlently  to  the  inspection-hole,  we  probably  should  dso  have  been  deprived  of  the  chance  of 
witnessing  it.  There  can,  indeed,  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  utterly  absurd  in  a  prison  conducted 
on  the  aQent  system,  with  the  speeid  view  of  avoiding  intercourse  among  the  criminals,  to 
herd  together  a  hundred  such  men,  and  place  them  in  exactly  that  podtion  whidi  is  the 
most  favourable  for  interoommunion. 

The  Tentilation  of  these  immense  hmldings  is  of  that  primitive  kind  which  consists 
of  a  hde  made  in  the  wall  near  the  top  of  the  roof.  When  the  gas  is  lighted,  and  the  place 
becomee  heated,  a  current  of  air  is  doubtlesdy  establidied;  but  that  the  foul  atmosphere  is  not 


328  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

entirely  removed  is  proved  by  the  diflcretioiiary  power  vested  in  the  night-warders,  to  open 
one  of  the  windows  whenever  they  perceive,  by  the  "  closeness"  of  the  room,  that  the  air, 
despite  the  openings  near  the  ceiling,  has  become  offensive  with  the  exhalations  of  the 
hundred  sleepers. 


Of  the  SUewt  System. 


The  discipline  followed  at  Coldbath  Fields  becomes  an  interesting  study,  from  the  fact 
that  it  is  considered  as  the  type  of  that  form  of  prison  government  which  is  distingiiished  by 
the  name  of  the  '*  silent  associated  system." 

We  have  purposely  avoided  offering  any  remarks  upon  the  efficiency  of  this  mode  of 
discipline  at  other  institutions — as,  for  instance,  at  Millbonk  and  Brixton  prisons — ^because 
we  were  desirous,  before  hazarding  our  opinion,  of  noting  its  operation  at  that  establishment 
where  all  allow  it  is  to  be  seen  in  its  greatest  force.* 

We  have  before  said,  it  is  almost  self-evident  that  every  system  of  prison  disciplinei  so 
far  as  it  affects  the  liberty  of  communication  among  prisoners,  must  be  either  (1)  asso- 
ciative, (2)  separative,  or  (3)  mixed. 

1.  Of  tiie  OBeoeiatke  form  of  discipline  there  ^e  two  widely  distinct  varieties — 

a.  Prisoners  may  be  allowed  to  associate  indiscriminately,  and  to  indulge  in  wure^ 

strained  interetmrse  one  with  the  other. 
h.  Prisoners,  though  allowed  to  associate,  may  be  made  to  labour  as  well  as  to 

exercise,  and  take  their  meals  in  perfect  silence, 

2.  The  separative  form  has  likewise  two  subdivisions — 

a.  The  partially  separate,  which  consists  in  dividing  the  body  of  prisoners  into 
elassesy  or  groups,  according  to  their  crimes,  ages,  or  characters,  and  so  keeping 
the  more  desperate  and  hardened  offenders  apart  from  the  more  inexperienced 
and  hopeful. 

h.  The  entirety  separate,  which  consists  in  secluding  every  prisoner  indimduaUy 
from  the  others,  and  so  putting  an  end  to  all  intercourse  among  them,  by  the 
positive  isolation  of  each  from  the  rest. 

3.  As  regards  the  mixed  form,  there  is  but  one  order — 

Prisoners  may  be  placed  in  sqforatian  for  a  certain  term,  by  way  of  ''probation" 
(as  it  is  called),  and  then  put  to  work  in  association  under  the  silent  system. 

The  two  great  experiments,  which  have  of  late  years  been  tried  in  thiB  country,  with  a 
view  to  prevent  the  Airther  corruption  of  the  inmates  of  our  prisons,  are  the  separate  system 
practised  at  Pentonville,  and  the  silent  associated  system  pursued  at  Coldbath  Fields. 

The  separate  system  was  introduced  at  the  former  institution  in  the  year  1842.  The 
silent  associated  system  at  the  latter  in  1834. 

That  these  two  systems  are  each  an  eminent  improvement  upon  the  old  dassiBed  system 
of  our  prisons,  and  more  particularly  upon  that  more  ancient  system  of  indiscriminate  inter- 
course among  criminals,  and  both  instituted  with  the  kindest  possible  intentions  towards 
the  criminals  themselves,  none  that  are  open  to  reason  can  for  a  moment  doubt. 

The  two  systems,  however,  differ  essentially,  even  in  their  objects.    The  silent  system 

*  "  The  best  example  of  the  silent  tystem,"  said  Colonel  Jehb,  in  his  evidence  before  the  Committee  on 
Prison  Discipline,  <<  would,  I  think,  be  fonnd  in  Coldbath  Fields  or  Westminster  Bridevell." 


HOUSE  OF  COEBECTION,  GOLDBATH  FIELDS.  829 

seeks  to  put  an  end  to  the  contamination  of  prifloners  by  stopping  all  m^r-commimion 
among  them.  The  separate  system  seeks  not  only  to  do  this,  but  at  the  same  time  to  bring 
about  the  reformation  of  the  prisoners  by  inducing  «^^-communion.  The  one  endeavours  to 
attain  a  negative  good  by  checking  a  capital  ctiI,  and  the  other  to  work  a  posiUve  good,  in 
addition  to  the  negative  one. 

The  two  er|rstems  again  differ  in  their  requirements.  That  which  seeks  to  compass  its 
end  by  the  individual  separation  of  the  prisoners  demands,  of  course,  a  peculiarly  built  and 
specially  commodious  institution  (since  it  is  one  of  the  essential  conditions  of  that  system 
that  eadi  prisoner  shall  be  provided  with  a  cell  to  himself,  and  such  cell  must  necessarily  be 
of  far  greater  capacity  than  an  ordinary  sleeping  chamber,  as  it  is  required  to  form  at 
once  the  work-shop  of  the  man  by  day  and  his  bed-room  by  night).  The  silent  system, 
however  (though,  in  its  integrity,  it  exacts  a  separate  sleeping  cell  for  each  prisoner*), 
may— by  the  aid  of  large  dormitories,  tended  with  the  most  active  supervision  dtiring 
the  night,  as  well  as  by  the  addition  of  spacious  work-rooms,  wherein  the  men  can 
labour  in  association  during  the  day — ^be  applied  to  old  prisons,  even  where  the  cells 
are  not  only  too  few  in  number,  but  too  small  in  size  for  the  requirements  of  the  separate 
system. 

Hence  we  find  that  new  prisons  are  generally  constructed  on  the  separate  plan,  whilst  in 
old  ones  the  silent  associated  form  of  discipline  is  usually  adopted,  the  latter  circumstance 
being  due  partly  to  that  widely-prevailing  disposition  to  cobble  and  patch  up  some  old  worn- 
out  thing,  BO  that  it  may  serve  as  a  make-shift  for  an  office  it  never  was  fitted  for,  rather 
than  be  at  the  expense  and  trouble  of  providing  a  new  one,  specially  adapted  to  the  object 
in  view. 

That  the  separate  system  attains  the  same  end  as,  and  far  more  effectually  than,  the 
silent  system,  there  can  be  no  doubt,  since  the  surest  mode  of  preventing  intercom- 
munion in  jails  is  to  prevent  the  association  of  the  prisoners.  To  construct  a  building,  how- 
ever, with  a  separate  cell  for  each  inmate  that  it  is  intended  to  accommodate  is  likely  to  be 
considerably  more  expensive  than  the  erection  of  one  with  large  dormitories  and  associated 
work-rooms.  (Each  cell  at  Pentonville,  by-the-bye,  cost  upon  an  average  £160,  whereas  the 
expense  of  building  the  old  prison  at  Coldbath  Fields  averaged  not  less  than  £283  per  cell.) 
Nevertheless,  in  a  prison  conducted  upon  the  silent  associated  system,  the  extra  sum 
required  to  be  paid  annually  in  salaries  to  warders,  so  as  to  ensure  that  thorough  supervision 
of  the  prisoners,  which  is  so  necessary  for  the  due  carrying  out  of  this  form  of  prison 
government,  increases  the  continual  cost  of  management  so  far  beyond  that  of  one 
maintained  on  the  ''  separate"  plan,  as  to  render  the  latter  much  more  desirable  even  in  an 
eewomieal  point  of  view.  For  instance,  we  have  before  shown  that,  according  to  the 
returns,  there  is  1  warder  at  Pentonville  to  superintend  every  1 7  prisoners,  whereas,  at 
Coldbath  Fields,  1  warder  is  required  to  superintend  every  13  prisoners;  so  that  at  the' 
former  establishment  each  warder  can  watch  over  upwards  of  30  per  cent,  more  persons 
than  he  can  at  the  latter  one. 

It  would  hardly  require  a  moment's  deliberation,  therefore,  in  order  to  decide  as  to 
which  is  the  preferable  of  these  two  modes  of  prison  government,!  were  it  not  that  the 

•  "  Under  the  silent  system,  properly  worked  out,"  said  the  Inspeotor-General  of  Prisons,  before  the  Far- 
Uamentary  Committee  on  Prison  DiBcipline,  "  the  prisoner  would  have  a  separate  sleeping-oelli  though  the 
Hissifleation  of  the  4th  of  George  IV.  might  in  some  degree  be  pnt  aside.  The  prisoners  can  be  assembled 
together  in  large  nomhers  under  that  system,  but,  whilst  they  are  so  assembled,  they  are  under  the 
itrictest  snpetvision  and  control,  and  are  employed  in  various  industrial  occupations  or  at  hard  labour  on  the 
tread-miU." 

t  Jfr.  Chesterton,  in  his  book  upon  "  Prison  Life,"  while  arguing  against  the  effects  of  the  separate  sys*. 
tern,  eites»  with  peculiar  paralogical  aptness,  the  following  case,  as  evidence  of  the  evils  arising  from  the  phy- 
aical  depresdon  induced  by  that  system ;  but  as  the  example  strikes  us  as  being  a  strong  instance  of  the  benefits 


880  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

separate  eyBtem  is  found  to  be  so  dangerous  to  the  mental  health  of  those  snhject  to  it,  that 
the  authorities  have  deemed  it  necessary,  not  only  to  shorten  the  term  of  confinement  under 
it|  but  also  greatly  to  relax  and  modify  the  seyerity  of  the  original  discipline.  We  have 
before  shown  that,  whilst  the  average  ratio  of  insanity  from  1842  to  1850  was  58  lunatics 
per  annum,  to  every  10,000  of  the  gross  prison  population  throughout  "Rnglimfi  and  Wales, 
still,  at  Pentonville,  the  average  yearly  proportion  of  lunacy  from  1843  to  1861,  was  62-0  per 
10,000  prisoners ;  so  that  had  the  inmates  of  all  the  priaons  throughout  the  country  been  sub- 
mitted to  the  same  stringent  discipline  as  at  the  ''  Model  Prison,"  the  gross  number  of  criminal 
lunatics,  between  1842  and  1850,  would,  so  far  as  we  can  judge,  have  been  increased 
more  than  tenfold,  or  have  risen  from  680  to  7,173.  (See  Gbea^i  Woblb,  pp.  103-5, 
115,  143-4,  168).  Now,  as  the  driving  of  a  man  mad  forms  no  part  of  his  original 
sentence,  it  is  dear  that  prison  authorities  have  no  earthly  right  to  submit  a  prisoner 
to  a  course  of  discipline,  which,  if  long  protracted,  would  have  the  effect  of  depriving 

resulting  from  iemporairy  Isolation  from  the  world,  we  quote  it  here  as  evidence  of  like  deep  impression  tiiat 
oan  be  made  by  sepsration  upon  the  hearts  of  even  the  most  hardened  oriminalB  :— 

''  John  Bi^op,  the  monster  who  was  executed  for  the  cruel  murder  of  the  Italian  boy,  whom  he  buiked 
in  order  to  secure  the  price  of  the  body  in  the  school  of  anatomy,  was,"  he  says,  "without  exception,  tiie 
most  finished  ruffian  within  my  memory.  He  was  a  man  of  powerful  frame,  of  repulsive  countenance,  and 
of  brutal  address  and  manners.  Consigned  to  my  charge  on  remand,  and  with  the  direction  to  be  kept  apart  (an 
occasional  instance  in  those  days),  he  entered  the  prison  uttering  oaths  and  execrations,  and  indulging  in  the 
grossest  language,  while  he  assailed  the  subordinates,  and  even  myself,  with  menace  and  defiance.  He  had 
received  no  provocation,  but  gave  vent  to  the  irrepressible  brutality  of  his  nature.  Fourteen  days  of  exclusive 
self-commumng  incarceration,"  continues  the  late  governor,  ^*  produced  in  this  abandoned  criminal  a  change 
so  marked  and  depressing,  as  to  constitute  an  instructive  commentary  upon  the  wear  and  tear  which  unre- 
lieved reflection  will  produce  upon  a  guilty  mind.  Bishop  was,  by  law,  entitied  to  supply  himself  with  a 
generous  diet,  and  he  was  permitted  to  take  daily  exerdse  in  the  open  air,  and  to  have  an  ample  supply  of 
books,  80  that  feebleness  could  not  have  been  induced  by  diminished  sustenance,  nor  be  referable  to  anything 
else  than  the  terror  resulting  from  solitary  ruminations.  Certain  it  is,  that  iran-souled  nuscreant  became 
so  meek  and  subdued,  so  prone  to  tears,  so  tremulous,  and  agitated,  that  at  the  end  of  fourteen  days,  when 
he  was  again  sent  up  to  the  police-office,  he  could  hardly  be  recognized  as  the  same  coarse  and  blustering 
bully  who  had  so  recentiy  entered  the  prison.  It  was  %mpo$t%ble  to  $$$  the  eJfheU  of  toUtude  i^NHt  a  comadonei 
$tr%6hen  by  crkne  more  siffnaUy  exen^UJUd,  When  conmiitted  to  Newgate,  I  found,  on  inquiry,'*  he  adds, 
**  that  renewed  association  with  lawless  men  had  revived  the  brutality  so  inseparable  frt>m  his  natnre.* 

That  this  softening  of  a  criminal's  nature  is  by  no  means  an  extraordinary  effect  of  separate  confinement, 
Messrs.  De  Beaumont  and  De  TocquevUle  also  bear  witness,  in  their  Beport  upon  the  system  as  administered 
in  Philadelphia.  *^  Do  you  find  it  difficult  to  endure  solitude?"  was  a  question  put  by  them  to  one  of  the 
prisoners.  '*  Ah,  sir,",  the  man  answered,  *'  it  is  the  most  horrid  punishment  that  can  be  imagined."  ^  Does 
your  health  suffisrfromit?"  was  the  next  inquiry.  *<No!"  he  replied,  ''but  my  soul  is  very  nek."  Of 
another  it  was  said,  ''  he  cannot  speak  long  without  shedding  tears."  The  same  remark,  they  add,  may  be 
made  **€i  aU  whom  we  have  seen."  Some,  again,  confessed  that  the  BiUe,  and  others  that  religiaa  was 
'*  (heir  greatest  consolation." 

Mr.  Chesterton  argues,  that  the  state  of  mental  depression  which  separate  confinement  induces,  is  tjfmpm- 
tJutioaUy  derived  from  the  physical  prostration  to  which  solitude  gives  rise,  and  that  unreasoning  obeervers 
are  apt  to  hail  that  which  is  merely  the  effect  of  bodUy  weakness  as  the  sign  of  spiritual  conversion  and  pr»- 
mise  of  amendment.  "  In  vain,"  he  says,  '^may  the  prisoners  become  imbued  with  a  shallow  devotion,  and 
pronounce  the  study  of  the  Bible  a  pleasure.  They  most  probably  seise  upon  those  resources,"  he  tdls  us, 
*'  because  none  other  are  available,  and  such  ebullitions  of  piety  proceed,  in  most  cases,"  the  late  govem<v 
adds,  "  from  morbid  sensibility,  which  vanishes  on  the  fibrst  serious  trial  of  their  reality."  But  though  it  may 
be  true  that  the  ratio  of  the  annual  re-commitments  to  the  s^arate  prison  at  Glasgow  amounted  to  60  per 
cent,  or,  in  other  words,  that  one-half  of  the  prisoners  annually  committed  to  the  jail  have  been  found  to  ratnni 
to  it ;  still  this  in  no  way  affects  the  truth  of  the  contrition  and  religious  fervour  induced  by  the  separation 
for  the  tme  heing;  but  it  merely  proves  what  all  admit,  that  criminals  are  persons  of  weak,  impiulsive 
natures,  incapable  of  loiting  impressions.  Nor  is  it  of  any  weight  to  assert  that  the  mental  depreaaion,  in- 
duced by  separation,  arises  from  physical  prostration ;  for  such  mental  depression  is  the  feeling  that  all  who 
desire  the  criminal's  reformation  must  seek  to  produce,  as  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  repent  his  past  life^ 
and  yet  exist  in  a  state  of  bodily  and  spiritual  liveliness.    (See  p.  168  of  Gbe^t  Wobld  of  Ix>Hixur.) 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  881 

him  of  his  leason.  We  cannot  but  concur,  therefore^  in  the  opinion  of  Sir  S.  Brodie  and 
Dr.  Peignson,  that  '*  the  utmost  watchfulness  and  discretion  on  the  part  of  the  goyemory 
chaplain,  and  medical  officers  are  requisite,  in  order  to  administer  with  safety  the  discipline 
enforced  at  Pentonyille." 

Now  it  must  in  candour  be  admitted,  that  the  silent  associated  system  as  practised  at 
Coldhafh  Fields  is  open  to  no  such  objections.  In  the  year  ending  Michaelmas,  1855,  there 
were  only  four  lunatics  out  of  a  gross  prison  population  of  9,180,  which  is  at  the  rate  of 
only  4*3  per  10,000,  and  eyen  less  than  the  normal  proportion  for  all  England  (5*8).  Let 
jOy  however,  dismiss  all  prejudice  from  our  minds,  and  calmly  weigh  the  advantages  and 
disadyantages  of  this  form  of  discipline,  with  the  yiew  to  discoyering  whether  its  defects 
may  not  be,  in  a  measure,  remedied  and  its  benefits  improyed. 

"  The  silent  system,"  writes  Mr.  Chesterton,  who  being,  as  it  were,  the  metropolitan 
fiither  of  that  form  of  penal  discipline,  may  be  regarded  as  its  chief  advocate,  '^  has  never  yet 
been  attempted  in  this  country  with  the  space  necessary  for  its  perfect  development."* 
Xotwithstanding  this  he  proceeds  to  tell  us  that,  though  professional  thieves  may  communis 
cate  nnder  it,  to  a  very  limited  extent,  by  significant  signs — comprehensible  to  themselves 
only— and  though  even  unlimited  communication  (were  it  possible)  among  them  could  not 
farther  corrupt  iheir  natures,  it  is  still  a  comforting  reflection  that,  by  means  of  that  form  of 
discipline,  the  uninitiated,  who  are  ignorant  of  the  import  of  such  signs,  are  safe  finom  the 
contaminating  influence  of  their  more  hardened  associates.  ''  Moreover,"  he  says,  in  another 
part  of  the  same  work,  "  the  silent  system  inflicts  no  injury  upon  the  health,  however  pro- 
tracted the  sentence,  the  bodily  and  mental  sanity  being  sustained  under  it  to  the  last,  in  the 
ordinary  ratio  of  mankind.  The  legitimate  opportunities  it  affords,"  he  adds  (vol.  ii., 
p.  27),  ''nay,  the  demands  it  makes  for  the  use  of  speech  are  numerous.  The  daily 
responses  in  chapel  by  the  prisoners,  as  well  as  their  commtmications  with  the  governor, 
the  chaplain,  the  schoolmaster,  and  various  officers,  all  tend  healthfully  to  employ  the 
tongae.  It  is  only  communication  between  prisoner  and  prisoner  that  is  interdicted."  ''We 
do  all  we  can  in  the  prison  to  prevent  contamination,"  the  same  gentieman  observed,  in 
his  evidence  before  the  Parliamentary  Conmiittee  in  1850 ;  "  and  in  my  opinion  the  associated 
silent  system,  properly  carried  out,  is  as  effectual  for  all  purposes  of  prison  discipline  as  any 
that  can  be  devised.  The  prisoners  do  communicate,  but  I  find  that  all  the  communications 
are  of  a  very  trifiing  description,  and  that  nothing  like  contamination  takes  place  generally 
among  them." 

Here,  then,  it  will  be  remarked,  that  the  spedal  merit  (and  it  assuredly  commends  itself 
as  no  slight  one  to  those  who  know  what  was  the  state  of  our  prisons  in  the  olden  time) 
churned  for  this  form  of  prison  government,  even  by  its  chief  supporter,  is,  as  we  have  said, 
of  a  purely  negative  character,  viz.,  it  does  not  allow  the  contamination  of  one  prisoner 
by  another,  it  does  not  injure  the  health  of  those  who  are  subjected  to  its  regimen. 

Let  us,  then,  endeavour  to  discover  at  what  expense  these  eminent  advantages  are  gained. 
We  will  in  fedmess  continue  to  quote  fix>m  Mr.  Chesterton  himself.  In  the  course  of  his 
examination  before  the  House  of  Commons,  he  was  asked,  "  Have  you  compared  the  number 
of  punishments  in  the  jail  under  your  system  with  any  other  jail  upon  the  separate  system  ?" 
"  Ye?,  I  have,"  was  the  answer ;  "  and  I  know  that  our  punishments  are  verygreatJ*  "  You 
punish  for  anything  like  a  sign  being  passed  from  one  prisoner  to  another?"  he  was  then 
asked.  "Yes,"  he  replied.  "Or  any  attempt  to  communicate?"  "Yes."  "Your 
ponishments  in  1848  were  as  many  as  11,624."  "Yes,  they  were."  Mr.  Chesterton,  it 
shonld  be  added,  defends  this  excess  of  punishments  by  saying  he  considerB  that  punishments 
in  general  tend  to  soften,  and  have  a  beneficial  effect  upon  prisoners'  natures. 

We  will,  however,  for  the  sake  of  putting  this  important  point  clearly  before  tlie  mind, 

"  Re?eUtioiis  of  Prison  Life,**  vol.  ii.,  p.  23 


832 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


proceed  to  compare  the  number  of  pnnishments,  as  well  as  the  number  of  prisoners  punished, 
at  Coldbath  Fields  and  at  Fentonville  prisons,  in  the  course  of  the  year  1854-1855. 

TABLE  BHOWnra   THB  ABSOLUTB  AITD  SELATIYB  MUMBBB  OF  FUNISHKBUTS,   AXD  NUUBSa  OF  PSUS02(S]KS 
FUNISHBD,  AT  COLDBATH  FIELDS  AND  FENTONTILLB  P2US0N8,  DUBIKO  THE  TEAB  185i — 55. 


FumSBXXirTS  at  CotDBATH  FiXLDS  PauoN. 


yumbtr  ofpimiahmenta. 

For  neglect  of  work     .  1,255 
For  noUe,  taUnnf,  in. 
toUncef  and  bad  lan^ 
ffuoffe       .       .       .    5,421 
For  yarioos  aote  of  diso- 
bedience and  disorder  2,847 

Total  number  of  pnn- 
isbments  in  the  course 
of  1854-^5        .       .  9,028 

Gross  prison  population  9,180 
Proportion  of  punish- 
ments to  gross  prison 
population    .    08  per  cent. 


I* 


Number  ofprUonenpuHished, 

Reported  once     .  1,208 
twice    .     607 
thrice  .     855 
four  times  188 
„       more  than 
four  times,  **  some  few'* 
Total  punished    .    2,808 

Discharged  .  without 
haTing  been  reported 
once  ....  4,984 

Others  unreported      .  1,888 

Total  unpunished        .  6,872 
Gross  prison   popula- 
tion   ....  9,180 

Proportion  of  prisonert 
punished  to  gross  pri- 
son population,  25  per  oent 

Proportion  of  prisoners 
unpunished    .  75  per  cent. 


PUNXSHICKMTS  AT  PXNTOiryiLLE  PrXSOST. 


yttmber  ofpunUhments, 

For  disobedience  and 
disturbing  prison 

For  misconduct  in 
school  and  chapel,  a  nd 
making  obecene  com- 
munications    . 

For  communicating 
with  fellow-priaoners 

For  trying  to  send  let- 
ters out  of  prison      . 

For  wilfully  destroying 
prison  property 

For  insubordination  and 
fiilse  charges  against 
officers      •       .       • 

For  fighting  and  wrang- 
ling .... 

For  attempting  and 
proposing  to  others 
to  escape  . 

Feigning  and  threaten- 
ing to  commit  suldde, 
and  impositions  on 
stti^eon     ... 

For  haying  dirty  cells . 

For  purloining  bread  . 

For  having  tobacco  in 
possession 


282 


1C9 


171 


89 


8 


SO 


12 


9 

4 
22 


number  ofpritonsrtjnmkksd. 

Reported  once 
twice 
thrice   . 
four  times    . 
t,      more      than 
fbur  times 


ff 


tf 


158 
4S 
24 
18 


Total  number  punished     263 
Number  unpunished    .     662 

Gross  prison  pc  pulation     9^ 

Proportion  of  prisoners 
punished  to  gross  pri- 
son  population,  26  per  eent. 

Proportion  of  prisoners 

unpunished  to  groas 

prison     populatioDt 

72 


14 
"757 

Number  of  cases  pun- 
ished.      ...      601 

Gross  prison  population     925 

Proportion  of  punish- 
ments to  gross  prison 
population    .    65  per  cent 

Kow  let  us  collate  these  data,  as  regards  the  niunher  of  punishments  as  well  as  the 
numher  punished  in  the  year  at  Coldbath  Fields  prison,  with  the  same  facts  at  Pentonville. 

By  the  above  comparatiye  table,  it  will  be  seen  at  a  glance  that,  though  the  propor- 
tion of  prisoners  refiising  to  submit  to  discipline,  and  consequently  those  upon  whom 
punishment  had  to  be  inflicted,  was  very  nearly  the  same  at  both  Coldbath  Pields  and 
Pentonville  prisons — or  25  per  cent,  in  the  former  case,  and  28  per  cent,  in  the  latter—neyer- 
theless,  the  propartpmate  amcufU  of  punishmmt  required  to  be  inflicted  was  by  no  means 
similar;  for,  whilst  at  Pentonville  the  ratio  of  the  punishments  to  the  gross  prison  population 
was  only  65  per  cent.,  at  Coldbath  Fields  the  ratio  was  as  high  as  98  per  cent !  or,  in  plain 
language,  it  was  found  necessary  to  inflict  33  per  cent,  more  punishments  upon  the  lefractory 
prisoners  at  the  Middlesex  House  of  Coirection  than  upon  t]»>se  at  the  Model  Prison. 

That  this  excess  of  punishments  is  to  be  ascribed  t^  the  exactions  of  tiie  silent  system, 
rather  than  to  any  undue  severity  on  the  part  of  the  present  excellent  governor,  we  are 
happy  to  be  able  to  bear  witness ;  and  the  returns  themselves  ore  proof  positive  upoa  the 
point ;  for,  whereas  the  daily  average  proportion  of  the  prisoners  punished  amounted  to  3  per 
cent,  of  the  daily  population  in  Mr.  Chesterton's  time,  it  was  only  If  per  cent,  in  the  course 
of  last  year. 

Now  the  excess  of  punishment  required  for  the  enforcement  of  the  silent  system,  it 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  is  not  only  an  excess  over  and  above  that  which  is  found  neoessarv 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  338 

ligrtlieniaintenanoe  of  the  discipline  at  other  prisons;  bat  the  le^^^?  of  snoh  punishments  are 
inflictions  which  were  never  eontemplated  hy  the  law,  and  which  formed  no  part  of  tiie  legal 
penalty  imposed  upon  the  prisoner.*  They  are  punishments  merely  for  arUtrary  offences, 
or,  in  other  words,  offences  against  an  arbitrary  form  of  discipline,  known  only  within  the 
prison  walls,  and  to  which  the  prisoner  is  sentenced  without  either  jury  to  try  him,  or 
connaol  to  protect  him,  and  for  which,  therefore,  nothing  but  the  most  cogent  necessity,  as 
well  as  the  highest  moral  advantages,  can  be  receiyed  as  justification  with  all  righteous 
minds. 

One  othor  stringent  objection  against  the  silent  associatedsystem  of  prison  discipline  is,  that 
speech  proceeds  from  a  natural  impulse  among  men  to  give  articulate  utterance  to  the  thoughts, 
and  fedings  passing  within  tiiem,  and  that  the  silent  form  of  prison  discipline  not  only  imposes 
a  Trilfbl  restoint  upon  this  innate  propensity,  but  it  likewise  places  prisoners  in  tiiose  very 
cucomstances  in  which  there  is  the  greatest  temptation  for  the  continual  exercise  of  it;  so 
that  a  man  is  thrown  by  the  authorities  into  precisely  those  conditions  which  are  most 
likely  to  lead  to  a  breach  of  the  discipline  (that  is  to  say,  he  is  put  among  several  hundreds  of 
others,  a  large  number  of  whom  were  probably  his  former  companions,  and  all  of  whom  are 
at  least  his  fellow-safferers  ''  in  trouble''),  and  yet  he  is  punished  for  the  least  infraction  of 
the  arbitrary  prison  rules. 

The  prisoner  under  the  silent  atsoeiaUd  system  is  allowed  to  mingle  with  his  fellows. 
He  forms  one  of  the  five  himdred  who  pick  oakum  side  by  side,  or  one  of  the  twenty-four 
who  tread  the  wheel,  or  of  the  eighty  who  work  as  tailors  together.  But  what  is  strictly 
denied  to  him  is  the  right  to  talk  with  those  who  are  working  at  his  elbow.  If  he  requires 
anything,  he  may  address  an  officer,  but  he  must  not  utter  a  word  to  the  prisoner  next  him. 
He  has,  as  it  were,  his  tongue  taken  from  him  at  the  same  time  that  his  own  clothes  are 
changed  for  the  suit  of  prison  gray. 

He  has  been  sentenced,  for  a  certain  offence,  to  lose  his  Hberty  for  a  time ;  stiU,  on 
arriying  at  the  prison,  he  finds  that,  in  addition  to  his  freedom,  he  must  part,  also,  with  his 
right  of  speech.  He  is  then  placed  amidst  hundreds  similarly  circumstanced  to  himself,  all 
of  them  suffering  from  the  same  cause,  and  feeling,  therefore,  towards  each  other,  a  sympathy 
which  longs  to  vent  itself  in  speech ;  but,  though  surrounded  with  temptations  to  speak  on 
every  side,  he  is  denied  the  right  to  condole  with  his  neighbours ;  for  there  is  a  retinue 
of  warders  continually  watching  over  them  all,  and  ready  to  have  any  one  punished  even  for 
''a  significant  look  or  a  sign.'' 

Who  can  wonder,  then,  that  the  punishments  under  such  a  system  should  be  foimd — 
even  though  they  have  been  considerably  reduced  by  the  present  mansljgement — ^to  range 
as  high  as  33  per  cent,  over  and  above  what  is  necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  order  at 
other  prisons ! 

The  sUent  system  of  prison  discipline,  it  is  evident,  can  be  carried  out  only  by  means 
of  operating  in  two  different  ways  upon  the  natures  of  the  various  prisoners.  The  more 
timid  and  less  sensitive  may,  by  dread  of  the  pimishment  under  it,  be  cowed  into  rapid 
submission  to  its  requirements ;  whilst  the  more  irritable  and  wayward  may,  after  a  long 
course  of  suffering,  be  ultimately  worried  into  subjection  to  the  discipline.  But  neither 
of  tiiitise  states  of  mind  appears  to  us  to  be  in  any  way  connected  with  that  reformation 
of  character  which  every  form  of  prison  government  should,  at  least,  aspire  to  induce. 
Here  sLavish  obedience  to  arbitrary  forms  cannot  possibly  give  rise  to  that  elevation  of  sold 
without  which  the  criminal  must  for  ever  remain  sunk  in  moral  and  spiritual  turpitude ; 

*  The  nature  of  the  punishments  inflicted  at  Coldhath  Fields  in  the  course  of  1864—55,  was  as  follows :« 


Placed  in  haodcnfBi  and  other  irons              .       2 
Whipped 5 


Confined  in  dark  and  solitary  cells'  .    470 

Put  upon  short  diet,  and  othor  punishments    8,546 

9,023 


«84  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

whilst  a  oontinual  sense  of  iiritation  under  the  most  galling  control,  so  iu  from  being  con- 
nected with  either  a  state  of  contrition  for  the  past  or  yirtuons  lesolTSs  for  the  fiitore,  most 
give  rise,  rather,  to  an  infinity  of  deceits  and  fidsities  with  the  view  of  iricking  the  warders ; 
so  that  the  mind,  instead  of  being  calm  and  sedate  with  its  wei^t  of  sorrow  £or  past 
misdeeds,  will  be  busy  in  planning  all  kinds  of  low  artifices  and  dissimulationfl  wfa«re!by  to 
hold  secret  conyerse  with  those  around ;  or  else  being  made  sullen,  aa  well  as  iacituzn,  the 
men  will  pass  their  time  in  moody  moroseness.* 

But  the  silent  system,  as  we  hare  before  said,  springs  from  tliat  love  of  extremes  that 
belongs  to  the  extravagant  rather  than  the  ratioial  form  of  mind.  Because  the  liberty  of 
speech  has  been  found  to  be  productive  of  evil  among  criminals,  wiseacres  have  tliought  £t 
to  declare  that  henceforth  prisoners  shall  not  speak  at  all,  even  though  it  be  only  by  inter- 
communion that  the  wisest  and  best  of  us  have  become  a  whit  wiser  and  better  than  brates. 
Such  an  injunction  is  about  upon  a  parin  wisdom  with  that  of  the  old  lady  who  asserted  that, 
because  there  was  danger  in  bathing,  her  son  should  not  enter  the  water  until  he  could  awim. 
But  are  there  no  other  faculties  that  prisoners  apply  to  a  bad  purpose  hesidei  speech  f  Is 
not  sight  as  much  an  instrument  of  evil  among  them  as  even  the  voice  itself?  Yet,  who 
would  be  bold  enough  to  propose — as  Eugene  Sue  has  with  the  murderer — ^that  because  the 
fEUiulty  of  seeing  renders  criminals  more  expert  and  daogerous  to  society,  therefore  they 
should  be  deprived  of  sight  altogether  ?  Surely,  dumbness  is  not  calculated  to  have  a  more 
moral  effect  upon  men's  hearts  than  blindness ;  and  if  the  object  be  to  decrease  the  power 
of  doing  evil  among  criminals,  we  must  all  fod  satisfied  that  a  blind  bad  man  is  more 
impotent  fbr  harm  than  a  dumb  one.  But  tiie  main  object  of  all  forms  of  prison  discipline 
should  be  not  merely  to  prevent  men  becoming  more  oorrupt  in  jail,  but  to  render  them  more 
righteous;  not  merely  to  check  bad  thoughts,  but  to  ixnplant  good  ones.  Yet  what  can 
mere  silence  teach  ?— especially  silence  in  the  midst  of  a  multitude  that  is  calculated  to 
distract  self-commuziion  rather  than  induce  it. 


«  <'  It  if  impoMibte,"  it  bat  been  truly  said,  **  to  maintaiii  perfect  alenoe,  and  yet  allow  of  i 
for  the  year  ending  Miehaelmai,  1 866,  the  number  of  puniahments,  as  we  have  diown,  amounted  to  no  leaa  than 
9,028,  and  of  these  nearly  two-thirds,  or  as  many  as  6,421  were  for  fiotM,  tdlkimg^  mm^shm,  and  had  kmgmfe. 
The  prison  authorities  themselves  confess  that  it  is  uttwly  impossible  to  stop  all  interoommunicatian  among 
the  prisoners.  ^  They  certainly  do  communicate,"  confessed  Hr.  Chesterton,  before  the  Select  Committoe  on 
Prison  Discipline.  A  large  amount  of  communication  is  carried  on  by  signs.  '*  They  ask  one  another,' 
we  are  told,  '*  how  long  they  are  sentenced  for,  and  when  they  are  going  out,  and  the  answeca  are  given  by 
laying  two  or  three  fingers  on  the  wheel  to  signify  ao  many  months,  or  else  they  turn  their  handa  to 
express  the  number  of  days  before  unlocking."  Again,  the  Bct.  Hr.  Kingsmill,  in  his  chapter  on  **  Prison 
and  Prisoners,"  informs  us,  that  "  The  position  of  stooping,  in  which  the  prisoners  work  at  picking  oakum, 
giyes  ample  opportunity  of  carrying  on  a  lengthened  conversadon  without  much  chance  of  disooTety ;  ao 
that  the  rule  of  silence  is  a  dead  letter  to  many.  At  meals,  also^  in  spite  of  the  strictness  with  whiah  tfM 
prisoners  are  watched,  the  order  is  constantly  infringed.  The  time  of  ezereise,  again,  affinrda  aa  almost 
unlimited  power  of  oommunioating  with  each  other ;  for  the  eloeeness  of  the  priaonenT  position,  and  the  noiae 
of  their  fact,  render  intercommunication  at  such  times  a  Tery  easy  matter.  «  «  •  Farther,  the  priaonen 
attend  chapd  daily,  and  this  may  be  termed  the  golden  period  of  the  day  to  most  of  them;  for  it  is  here,  by 
holding  their  books  up  to  their  faces  and  pretending  to  read  with  the  chaplain,  that  they  can  caxxy  on  tha 
most  uninterrupted  conyersation." 

The  principal  mode  of  communication,  howerer,  is  by  talking  without  moTing  the  lips,  and  in  llda  prao- 
tioe  many  of  the  old  prisoners  are  yery  expert  One  person,  lately  diaofaargad  from  the  piiaon,  haa  often 
exhibited  to  us  his  adroitness  in  that  respect,  and  prored  to  us  that  it  is  quite  poasibla  fbr  prisonen  to  talk 
eyen  while  the  warder's  eye  is  fixed  intently  upon  them,  without  the  least  signs  of  nttersnoe  being  dtsooyenUe 
by  sight  Moreoyer,  at  Tothill  Fields,  a  series  of  benches,  with  high  backs,  haye  noently  been  oon- 
atructed,  and  arranged  on  a  slant,  in  order  to  put  a  stop  to  the  talking  that,  despite  the  yigOaaoe  of  the 
matrons,  goes  on  among  the  female  prisoners.  This  arrangement,  howeyer,  has  been  fbund  to  flieiKtata 
communication,  by  acting  as  a  conductor  to  the  sound  rather  than  impeding  it;  and  the  matron  at  tliaft 
prison  informed  us,  that  though  she  could  hear  the  yoice  proceeding  from  a  certain  qnarter,  stiQ  it 
Impossible  by  her  eye  to  detect  the  actual  person  speaking. 


BIED'3-ETE  VIEW  OF  COLDBATH  FIELDS  PEISOS. 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  885 

How  much  time  that  might  be  profitably  employed  is  utterly  wasted  every  day  in  sheer 
moody  taciturnity  under  the  silent  system.  At  Coldbath  Eields,  we  see  assembled  together 
some  500  of  the  most  ignorant  and  depraved  portion  of  our  population — a  class  of  people 
requiring  instruction,  not  so  much  in  mere  reading  and  writing,  as  in  the  first  principles 
of  religion  and  morality,  of  worldly  honour,  and  even  common  worldly  prudence,  more 
than  any  other  body  of  men,  and  yet  who  are  allowed  to  remain^  for  upwards  of  eight  hourt 
mU  of  the  tweke  composing  the  prison  day,  in  a  state  of  utter  mental  idleness.'*  Surely  such 
stark  waste  of  intellect  as  goes  on  under  this  silent  associated  system  is  absolutely  wicked, 
as  well  as  disgraceful  to  the  time  in  which  we  live.  If  there  be  an  age  wMch  owes 
more  than  any  other  to  the  advantages  of  intercommunication  it  is  the  present — distin- 
guished as  it  is  for  its  railroads,  its  steam-vessels,  its  penny  postage,  its  electric  tele* 
g;raphs,  cheap  literature,  and  steam  printing-presses ;  so  that  it  becomes  a  positive  marvel 
of  inconsistency,  as  to  how,  at  such  a  period,  the  leading  minds  of  the  country  could  ever 
have  been  induced  to  tolerate  a  system  of  prison-government  that  assumes  to  nmke  men 
better  by  putting  a  stop  to  all  intercommunication  whatever.  It  is  only  by  intercommunion 
that  the  faculties  of  the  human  mind  become  in  the  least  developed.  A  human  being,  when 
left  to  himself,  grows  up — ^like  Peter,  the  wild  boy  of  Bohemia — an  imreflective,  and  indeed 
hopeless  brute ;  whilst  a  man  of  education,  by  mere  interconmiimication  with  the  most  pro- 
found and  righteous  thinkers,  both  living  and  dead,  contains  stored  in  his  own  mind  the  wisest 
and  best  thoughts — the  accumulated  experience  of  the  principal  sages  and  worthies  that  have 
lived  almost  from  the  commencement  of  the  world.  Those  who  know  and  feel  this,  and 
know,  moreover,  what  a  wondrous  faculty  is  that  of  speech,  and  how  much  of  a  man's  boasted 
reason  is  due  to  the  expression  of  thoughts  and  feelings  by  articulate  sounds,  cannot  but  see 
in  the  silent  system  a  wilful  rejection  of  God's  greatest  gift,  perhaps,  to  man. 

8nrely  aU.  that  is  necessary  in  order  to  check  unrestricted  intercourse  among  criminals, 
is  to  stop  all  communion  on  depraved  subjects.  To  go  farther  than  this,  and  put  an  end  to 
the  communication  of  even  good  thoughts  among  them,  by  enjoining  absolute  silence,  is  not 
only  absurd  as  over-reaching  the  end  in  view,  but  positively  wicked,  from  the  utter  waste  of 
intellectual  power  which  results  from  such  a  course.  In  the  best  regulated  tailors'  work- 
shops at  the  west  end  of  the  ICetropolis,  it  is  not  unconmion  for  the  journeymen  to  pay  one 
of  ^eir  own  body  to  read  to  them  while  they  are  engaged  at  their  labour.  Under  the  silent 
system,  however,  no  such  educational  process  is  permitted  during  the  work,  and  the  men 
are  condemned  to  remain  two-thirds  of  the  day  with  their  mental  faculties  utterly  in  abey- 
ance, or  else  engaged,  from  the  mere  want  of  better  occupation,  in  planning  tricks  by 
which  to  indulge  in  some  secret  communication,  in  the  very  face  of  the  warders  themselves. 

We  would  have  the  terrible  and  wasteful  silence  of  the  oakum-room  turned  to  some  good 
acconnt,  rather  than  allow  the  men  to  be  left,  as  now,  to  brood  moodily  over  their  own  d^praded 
thoughts,  or  else  to  be  continually  chafing  under  the  irritation  of  excessive  and  arbitrary 
control.  We  would  have  the  stillness  enjoined  by  that  system  taken  advantage  of,  and  some 
one  put  to  read  to  the  prisoners  from  a  book  that  was  at  once  of  an  elevating  and  interesting 

*  The  distribution  of  time  followed  in  the  daily  routine  of  discipline  at  the  House  of  Correction,  is  as 
follows : — 


6b.  2ooi.  The  gun  fires,   and  the  prisoners  rise. 

The  officers  for  the  day  enter,  are 

mustered,  and  examined  in  the  outer 

yard.    CeUs  are  unlocked,  and  the 

prisoners  counted  in  their  yards. 
7h.  Work  commences. 

8h.  20m.  Breakfast  and  exercise  in  the  yards. 

Time  employed  at  labour 8h.  8m. 

Time  for  meals Ih.  80m. 

Exercise  for  those  not  employed  at  tread-wheel  labour  •    Ih.  30m. 

24* 


9h.  I6m.  Prepare  for  chapel. 

9h.  dOm.  Service  commences. 

lOh.         Go  to  work. 

2h.  Dinner,  and  exercise  in  the  yards. 

3h.  Go  to  work. 

5h.  30m.  Supper. 

6h.  Commence  locking  up. 


836  THE  GKBAT  WORLD  OF  LOin)ON. 

character,  and  we  would  condemn  only  those  who  interrupted  the  reading  to  a  tenn  of  the 
same  painful  and  unbroken  silence  as  is  now  enforced. 

Such  a  plan  has,  as  we  have  shown,  already  been  put  in  practice,  at  this  prison  on  the 
Sundays,  and  we  have  chronicled,  in  our  account  of  it,  that  it  is  not  uncommon  even  for 
refractory  prisoners  to  request  permission  to  be  present  at  these  readings.  We  feel  assured 
were  this  instruetwe  form  of  the  silent  associated  system  judiciously  carried  out,  not  only 
might  the  eight  hours  that  are  now  spent  in  absolutely  unprofitable  silence — ^in  silence  that 
is  barren  of  all  good  as  well  to  the  criminal  himself  as  to  society  in  general — be  turned  to 
the  best  possible  account  by  being  made  the  means,  not  only  of  implanting  some  few  honour- 
able and  righteous  principles  in  the  hearts  of  the  prisoners,  but  likewise,  by  occupying  their 
minds  for  the  time  being,  of  diverting  them  firom  the  low  tricks  and  cunning  now  carried 
on,  and  so  putting  an  end  to  the  necessity  of  such  an  inordinate  proportion  of  punishment^ 
as  is  at  present  required  to  enforce  silence  firom  the  listless  men. 

\*  Stars. — To  induce  the  prisoners  to  conduct  themselves  with  propriety  during  their 
stay  in  Coldbath  Fields  prison,  the  system  of  stars,  as  badges  of  good  conduct,  has  been 
adopted ;  one  of  these  is  given  for  every  three  months  during  which  a  man  has  not  been 
reported  for  misbehaviour.  These  badges  are  in  the  shape  of  a  red  star,  which  is  stitched 
to  the  prisoner*s  sleeve.  We  were  told  that  at  one  time  there  was  a  man  in  the  jail  who 
had  gained  eleven  such  stars.  Half-a-crown  is  given  for  each  of  the  good-conduct  badges 
on  the  day  the  prisoner  is  liberated. 

We  inquired  of  one  of  the  warders  whether  he  considered  that  these  rewards  had  any 
influence  over  the  prisoners'  reformation.  He  replied  that  he  thought  not,  and  indeed,  that  he 
considered  the  half-crowns  given  for  them  as  so  much  money  thrown  away.  *'  The  best- 
behaved  men,"  he  continued,  ''are  the  old  offenders — ^those  who  have  been  imprisoned 
before ;  they  know  the  prison  rules  and  observe  them.  Do  you  see  that  man  with  fonr 
stars  on  his  sleeve  ?"  he  added,  pointing  to  a  prisoner  in  the  exercising  yard;  ''  you  observe 
he  has  a  greater  number  of  badges  than  any  here,  and  yet  it  is  the  third  time  he  has  been  in 
jail,  as  you  can  tell  by  the  white  figure  on  his  other  sleeve."  Indeed,  the  prison  authorities, 
examined  before  the  Parliamentary  Committee  in  1850,  one  and  aU  admitted  that  the 
worst  class  of  offenders  outside  the  prison  is  invariably  the  best  conducted  within  the  prison 
walls. 

We  may  add,  by  way  of  conclusion  to  this  account  of  the  regulations  at  Coldbath  Fields 
prison,  that  if  any  of  the  men  should  die  during  the  term  of  incarceration,  they  are  buried 
at  the  expense  of  the  county.  An  undertaker  contracts  with  the  prison  to  do  all  the  fiends 
at  28«.  each ;  and,  for  this,  he  supplies  a  one-horse  hearse,  fetches  the  body  away,  and  pays 
for  a  grave  in  the  Victoria  Cemetery,  Bethnal  Green.  All  the  friends  of  the  dec^ised 
receive  notice,  and^  if  they  choose  to  attend^  a  time  is  fixed  for  the  procession  to  leave  the 
gates. 

\*  Bepart  Office, — Whenever  a  warder  discovers  a  man  in  his  yard  speaking,  laughing, 
or  otherwise  breaking  the  rules  of  the  prison  discipline,  he  enters  the  prisoner's  number  in 
the  report-book,  and  the  next  morning  all  those  who  have  thus  offended  are  led  into  the  hall 
at  the  entrance  of  the  felons'  building,  and  arranged  iu  rows,  to  await  their  turn  to  bo  taken 
in  before  the  governor,  and  receive  his  sentence  of  punishment. 

The  day  we  were  at  Coldbath  Fields  prison  was  a  Monday,  and  consequently  there  was  a 
considerable  number  of  unruly  prisoners  to  be  reported,  for  the  list  included  the  offenders 
of  Saturday  and  Sunday.  We  found  about  fifty  prisoners,  spaced  out  at  equal  distances  like 
so  many  chess-men,  whilst  the  different  warders  stood  by,  carrying  imder  their  arms  what 
we  at  first  mistook  for  tea-trays,  but  subsequently  discovered  to  be  the  report-books,  which 
are  covered  with  japanned  tin  sides.    We  picked  our  way  through  the  gathering  of  offender?. 


HOUSE  OF  COEKECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  337 

passing  in  and  out  of  them,  vliilst  thej  remained  silent  and  still  as  so  many  statues,  and  as 
soon  as  the  gOTemor  had  entered  the  '^justice  hall/'  we  pushed  hack  the  spring-door  and 
followed  him. 

The  apartment  was  about  the  size,  and  had  much  the  look,  of  a  lawyer's  back-office. 
A  long  mahogany  desk  ran  along  one  side  of  the  wall;  a  couple  of  oak-grained  cup- 
boards flanked  each  side  of  the  fireplace,  oyer  which,  as  an  ornament,  hung  a  model  of  the 
new  building  for  oakum-picking.  The  goremor  took  his  seat  at  a  small  desk  before  the 
window  at  the  end,  the  chief  warder  perched  himself  upon  a  high  stool,  and  then  the  court 
was  declared  to  be  sitting. 

« Bring  in  the  first  case,"  was  the  order,  and  the  spring-door  creaked  as  it  opened  to 
admit  a  sub-warder  and  a  youth,  whose  coarse  features  were  pale  with  excitement,  whilst  his 
firmly-closed  lip  showed  that  he  was  determined  on  making  a  yigorous  defence. 

Caps  were  taken  off,  and  the  pleadings  began. 

**  I  report  this  man  for  insolence,"  commenced  the  sub-warder,  and,  despite  the  prisoner's 
nervous  ejaculations  of  ^*  No,  sir !  Please,  sir !  No,  sir ! "  the  officer  related  how  the  man  had 
moTed  a  table,  and  when  reprimanded  moved  it  still  more  loudly  and  laughed. 

Then  the  prisoner  entered  on  his  defence.  ''  Guy'ner,  I  did  no  such  thing.  He's  been 
down  on  me  ever  since  IVe  been  in  prison.  He  said  to  me,  says  he,  '  Don't  move  that 
table' — which  was  by  accident — and  I  never  touched  it,  guv'ner,  s'elp  me." 

"  Did  he  laugh  ?"  asked  the  governor  of  the  warder,  and  on  the  officer  replying  in  the 
affirmative,  sentence  was  delivered.  **  You  should  attend  to  what  the  officers  say,  and  then 
you  wouldn't  get  into  trouble."  Turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  report-book.  Captain  Colvill 
added,  ''  You  have  been  reported  three  times  this  month — you  must  lose  half  your  dinner;" 
and  the  prisoner,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  as  much  as  to  say,  '*  he  didn't  care,"  was  led 
from  the  room. 

The  next  case  was  one  of  a  man  having  given  away  to  another  prisoner  a  portion  of  his 
bread.  The  case  was  fully  proved,  despite  the  culprit's  denials,  by  the  evidence  of  another 
man  in  the  same  yard ;  whereupon  the  reported  felon  meanly  **  split"  upon  two  others,  who, 
he  declared,  had  often  exchanged  their  gruel  and  cocoa.  This  was  an  important  case,  and 
the  parties  concerned  were  ordered  to  be  brought  forward.  They  both  denied  the  charge, 
assuring  the  "guv'ner,"  with  oaths,  that  it  was  **  no  such  thing." 

"  If  you  tell  me  a  lie,  I'll  punish  you  worse  than  for  the  offence,"  threatened  the 
governor.  But,  in  spite  of  the  warning,  the  men  vociferated  their  innocence.  A  short 
investigation  proved  that  they  were  guilty,  and  the  judgment  was  a  heavy  one,  for  the  next 
three  days'  dinner  was  docked  one-half. 

"  You'll  find  that  all  the  prisoners  are  innocent,"  remarked  the  governor,  satirically,  whilst 
the  next  case  was  being  brought  in. 

One,  a  handsome  lad,  with  a  laige,  bright  eye,  was  accused  of  having  a  paper  containing 
some  pepper  in  his  possession.  He  had  been  employed  in  the  kitchen,  and  had  taken  it  for 
no  perceptible  object  beyond  the  desire  to  thieve  something.  He  had  two  red  stars  on  his 
aim^  and  as  a  punishment  one  was  taken  off  and  half  a  dinner  docked. 

Another  lad,  with  a  clean,  respectable-looking  face,  that  betokened  education  and  gentle 
birth,  was  brought  up  for  tearing  his  rug  or  counterpane.  He  never  spoke,  but  kept  his 
e jes  down ;  when  the  governor  addressed  him  he  blushed.  "We  were  afterwards  told  that 
he  was  very  respectably  connected,  and  in  prison  for  the  first  time.  We  were  glad  the  case 
was  not  f^y  proved  against  him,  and  almost  felt  personally  grateful  to  the  governor  for  the 
kind  tone  and  feeling  with  which  he  spoke  to  the  boy. 

More  than  half  the  complaints  were  for  talking.  In  each  case  the  warder  had  scarcely 
commenced  saying  **  1  have  to  report  this  man  for  speaking,"  when  the  excited  prisoner  would 
exclaim,  '^  It  isn't  true,  guv*ner ;  may  I  die,  if  I  said  a  word."  But  the  evidence  in  nearly 
every  instance  was  of  a  most  conclusive  nature.    One  offender — a  very  bad  case*— was  con« 


338  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

damned  to  lihree  days'  confinemeDt  on  bread  and  water,  the  others  lost  half  their  dinners, 
thns  causing  a  considerable  saving  to  the  kitchen  supplies  for  the  day. 

The  prisoner  who  bchayed  the  worst  of  all  those  reported  was  the  youngest,  a  mere  boy 
of  fifteen  or  sixteen,  of  short  stature,  with  a  narrow  forehead  and  fuU  broad  jaw.  He  had 
been  caught  talking,  and  when  detected  laughed,  and  ou  being  reprimanded  had  commenced 
dancing.  Such  a  glaring  defiance  of  authority  from  one  so  young  interested  eyen  the  chief 
warder,  who,  from  the  top  of  his  tall  stool,  denounced  the  stripling  criminal  as  the  worst 
behaved  boy  in  the  prison.  The  lad  began  crying  the  moment  he  entered  the  office,  and  the 
moment  he  found  the  case  going  against  him,  his  little  arms  and  legs  went  stiff  with  passion, 
and  he  grew  abusive.  He,  too,  was  condemned  to  three  days'  solitary  confinement  on  bread 
and  wat^,  "  And,"  added  the  governor,  *'  if  you  don't  behave  better  for  the  ftiture,  I  shall 
have  to  report  you  to  the  magistrates  and  have  you  whipped  again." 

**  I  don't  care  for  that ! "  answered  the  lad  as  he  was  led  out. 

After  the  prisoners,  two  sub- warders  were  brought  in,  accused  by  their  superior  officers 
with  breaking  the  prison  rules  by  sleeping  in  church  during  the  sermon.     Both  were  fined. 

The  punishments  over,  those  who  had  applications  to  make  to  the  governor  personally 
were  admitted  to  his  presence.  One  wished  to  write  a  letter  to  a  friend  to  become  bail  for 
him;  and  as  the  prison  regulations  only  allow  the  prisoners  one  letter  in  three  months,  a 
special  permission  was  required.  On  condition  that  nothing  but  the  subject  of  bailing  should 
be  touched  upon,  the  request  was  granted. 

Two  applications  were  for  stars  for  good  conduct ;  and  as  no  report  had  been  made  against 
either  of  the  men  for  three  months,  they,  too,  were  successful. 

Another,  who  seemed  so  delighted  with  the  opportunity  of  talking,  that  he  continued 
doing  so  imtil  his  breath  was  exhausted,  wished  to  make  some  inquiries  about  three  postage 
stamps  which  his  wife  had  sent  him  in  a  letter,  and  which  he  had  never  received.  He 
insisted  upon  repeating  nearly  the  whole  of  his  wife's  epistle,  gave  a  short  outline  of  why  he 
was  in  prison,  and  only  quitted  the  room  when  he  bad,  for  the  tenth  time,  been  told  that 
the  TniHHing  property  would  be  searched  for  and  taken  care  of. 

The  most  curious  application  was  fr^m  a  short,  bilious-looking  man,  who  entered  blub- 
bering to  beg  of  the  governor  to  let  him  be  confined  in  a  dark  cell.  Before  he  came  in,  the 
chief  warder  bad  prefaced  his  entry  with  a  hint  that  ''he  was  not  all  right  in  his 
head."  The  poor  fellow  commenced  a  long  tale  of  his  having  been  in  the  Crimea,  in  the 
land  transport  service,  and  said  he  objected  to  being  stared  at  as  he  was.  We  believe  he 
was  subsequently  handed  over  to  the  doctor. 

An  elderly  man  with  large,  swollen,  watery  eyes,  and  thick  lips  that  worked  violently 
as  he  spoke,  was  the  last  applicant.  He  bowed  with  obsequious  politeness,  and  said  that 
since  lus  heavy  misfortune  bad  placed  him  in  his  present  unhappy  condition,  he  was  most 
desirous  of  sending  word  to  a  highly-respectable  gentleman,  whose  friendship  he  had  in  more 
prosperous  times  been  proud  to  own,  to  tell  him  that  he  wished  to  give  up  the  lodgings  he 
had  taken  at  his  house. 

Never  was  man  so  tiiankful  as  this  polite  prisoner  for  so  trifling  a  favour  granted.  He 
repeated,  ''  Thank  you,  sir,  I  am  indebted  to  you,"  three  times ;  his  voice,  at  each  exclama- 
tion, growing  more  expressively  gratefrd.     He  was  in  prison  for  swindling. 

When  the  business  was  over,  the  report-books,  wi^  their  japanned  tin  bindings  (about 
twenty  in  number),  were  placed  in  a  rack,  and  the  governor  declared  the  court  brokoi  up. 
When  we  left  we  found  the  hall  cleared  of  its  crowd,  the  only  prisoners  to  be  seen  being  the 
three  or  four  lads  who,  down  on  their  hands  and  knees,  like  the  pictures  of  sportsmen  deer- 
stalking, were  holy-stoning  the  pavement  of  the  corridor. 


HOUSE  OP  COERECTION,  COLDBATS  FIELDS.  839 

Of  the  Different  Kinds  of  Prisons  and  Prisoners,  and  Diet  aUowed  to  each. 

%*  ViigrarUs'  Prison. — ^At  Ooldbath  Fields  prison  the  old  and  silly  classification  enjoined 
bj  the  4th  of  George  lY.  still  continues  in  force,  for  here  are  to  be  found,  to  this  day,  special 
places  for  yagrants,  misdemeanants,  and  felons — though  such  a  system  of  separation  cannot 
possibly  be  of  the  least  avail,  since  it  is  well  known  that  the  late  inmate  of  the  felons' 
prison  not  only  often  gets  re-committed  as  the  reputed  thief,  or  rogue  and  vagabond,  and  so  has 
a  place  assigned  him  among  the  vagrants,  but  is  afterwards  (not  imfrequently)  sent  back  to  the 
same  prison  for  assault  or  fraud,  whereupon  he  is  ranked  among  the  misdemeanants,  and  accord- 
ingly located  in  that  pajrt  of  the  jail.  If  the  several  branches  of  the  criminal  profession  were 
Us  widely  distinct  as  that  of  law,  divinity,  and  medicine,  and  if  the  utterer  of  base  coin,  who 
legally  belongs  to  the  class  of  misdemeanants,  never  indulged  in  thimble-rigging,  and  thus 
never  rendered  himself  liable  to  be  committed  under  the  vagrant  act  for  ''  gaming,"  nor 
ever  did  a  bit  of  simple  larceny,  nor  ever,  therefore,  came  to  be  indicted  and  convicted  as  a 
felon — ^then  might  such  a  division  of  prisoners  be  about  as  scientific  and  instructive  with  regard 
to  the  subject  of  crime  and  criminals  in  general,  as  an  alphabetic  arrangement  of  the  various 
members  of  the  animal  kingdom  might  be  for  the  purposes  of  natural  history.  As  it  is, 
however,  the  classification  enjoined  by  the  4th  Qeorge  lY.  is  about  as  idle  for  the  purpose  of 
preventing  the  contamination  of  one  class  of  prisoners  by  another,  as  it  would  be  to  group 
together  all  those  who  were  committed  under  like  aliases ;  since  the  John  Smith  of  one 
session  becomes  the  William  Brown  of  another,  even  as  the  felon  of  to-day  is  the  vagreuit  or 
reputed  thief  of  to-morrow. 

The  Coldbath  Fields  House  of  Correction  consists,  as  we  have  before  said,  of  three 
distiact  prisons — one  for  felons,  another  for  misdemeanants,  and  a  third  for  vagrants.  The 
latter  building  is  situated  at  the  south-western  comer,  on  the  Gray's-Inn-Lane  side,  and 
occupies  the  point  of  ground  enclosed  by  the  bending  of  the  outer  wall,  as  it  turns  down 
from  Baynes  Bow  into  PhoBuix  Place. 

On  entering  the  principal  gates,  there  is  seen  to  the  left,  through  the  strong  iron  railings 
which  enclose  the  paved  court  like  a  cage — ^towards  the  quarter  where  the  fan  for  regulating 
tbe  tread- wheel  is  revolving — ^a  broad  tower,  built  in  the  mixed  styles  of  a  chapel  and  a 
granary;  for  it  has  a  half-ecclesiastic  appearance,  the  windows  being  tall  and  arched;  whilst 
the  walls  have  become  so  weather-beaten,  that  the  yellow  plastering  with  which  they  arc 
covered  has  turned  white  in  places,  seeming  as  if  covered  with  flour.  That  tower  is  the 
central  ''arguB"-like  portion  of  the  vagrants'  prison. 

This  prison,  which  was  built  in  1830,  is  designed  in  the  half- wheel  form,  with  four  wings 
radiating  Uke  spokes  from  the  central  building.  Though  at  first  only  calculated  to  accom- 
modate 160  prisoners,  it  has  since  been  enlarged,  so  that  it  now  contains  177  cells.  The 
second  and  third  yards  each  contain  a  tread-wheel. 

The  plan  of  this  prison  is  of  the  ancient  kind.  On  each  side  of  the  yards  are  ranged 
the  cells,  those  in  the  groimd-floor  opening  into  the  exercising  ground,  whilst  in  the  galleries, 
on  the  first  and  second  floor,  the  cells  are  ranged  on  either  side  of  the  passage.  The  cell 
ftffnitore  here  is  similar  to  that  allowed  to  the  felons,  and  consists  simply  of  bedding 
and  a  stool,  whilst  hanging  to  the  walls  are  boards,  on  which  are  pasted  forms  of  morning 
and  evening  prayer;  the  cells,  themselves,  however,  are  inferior  to  those  of  the  felons' 
prison  in  respect  to  size,  being  one  foot  less  in  width  and  breadth ;  though  in  all  other 
respects  they  are  similar  in  style,  and,  like  them,  neither  warmed,  ventilated,  nor  lighted. 

Attached  to  the  vagrants'  prison  is  a  strong  room  or  cell,  for  either  unruly  or  lunatic 
criminals.  It  is  larger  than  the  usual  cells,  and  instead  of  a  door  has  a  strong  iron  grating 
before  it,  through  which  the  incarcerated  man  can  look  out  into  a  kind  of  passage  before 


$40  !tHE  Q&teAl?  WOULD  Of  tiOlfDOlT. 

him,  and  wUcli  also  enables  tlie  warder  to  watch  him  without  the  necessity  of  unlocking 
the  door.  The  day  on  which,  accompanied  by  the  governor,  we  visited  this  portion  of  the 
jail,  a  man  had  been  placed  here  for  attempting  the  life  of  one  of  the  warders.  Hearing 
Captain  Colyill's  voice,  he  rose  up  from  the  dark  comer  in  which  he  had  been  seated,  and, 
advancing  to  the  grating,  requested  that  he  might  be  permitted  to  have  a  bath.  This 
prisoner  had  stabbed  one  of  the  officers  in  the  back  with  a  knife  stolen  from  a  waider^s 
locker.  Had  the  MiUbank  tin  knives,  however,  been  in  use  at  this  prison,  such  an  act 
could  not  have  been  perpetrated. 

The  offences  which,  according  to  law.  Ml  under  the  denomination  of  vagrancy,  are 
principally  as  follows  :— 


Begging  or  sleeping  in  the  '  Indecent  exposure  of  person, 

open  air.  ,  Leaving  families  chargeable. 

Disorderly  prostitution.  |  Incorrigible  rogues  convicted 

Fortune  telling.  j  at  sessions. 
Gaming. 


Obtaining   money  by  false 

pretences. 
Reputed  thieves,  rogues  and 

vagabonds,  suspected. 


We  have  already  spoken  of  vagrancy  in  London  (see  p.  43,  Ob£a.t  Wobld  of  "Lowoti), 
and  shown  that,  judging  by  the  returns  from  the  Metropolitan  unions  and  the  mendicants' 
lodging-houses,  as  well  as  the  asylums  for  the  houseless,  there  is  good  reason  to  believe 
that  there  are  4,000  habitual  vagabonds  distributed  throughout  the  Metropolis,  and  that  the 
cost  of  their  support  annually  amounts  to  very  nearly  £50,000.  That  vagrancy  is  the  great 
nursery  of  crime  we  have  said,  and  that  the  habitud  tramps  are  often  first  beggars  and  then 
thieves,  and,  finally,  the  convicts  of  the  country— ^the  evidence  of  all  the  authorities  on  the 
subject  goes  to  prove.  Out  of  a  return  of  16,901  criminals  in  London  that  were  known  to 
the  police  in  1837,  no  less  than  10,752,  or  very  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  whole  were  returned 
as  being  of  ''migratory  habits."  Moreover,  throughout  England  and  Wales  there  was,  be- 
tween the  years  of  1840  and  1850,  an  average  of  21,197  vagrants  committed  to  prison 
every  year,  so  that  the  gross  vagabond  population  of  the  entire  country  may  probably  be 
taken,  at  the  very  least,  at  that  number;  whilst  in  every  100  summary  convictions  by  the 
magistrates,  throughout  England  and  Wales,  the  number  of  persons  committed  as  vagrants 
was  no  less  than  28'9,  and  those  as  reputed  thieves  23*4,  or,  together,  more  than  50  per  cent, 
of  the  whole.     (Swentsenth  Report  of  the  Inspectors  ofPrieoM  of  Great  Britain,  p.  zvii.) 

**  I  have  never  been  able  to  comprehend,"  says  Mr.  Chesterton,  the  late  governor  of 
Coldbath  Fields,  while  treating  of  the  peculiarities  of  vagrants  in  his  work  upon  **  Prison 
Life,"  ''  the  preference  given  by  hale,  able-bodied  men,  who,  rather  than  &ce  creditable 
industry,  will  stand  shivering  in  the  cold,  with  garments  barely  sufficient  to  cloak  their 
nakedness — ^purposely  rent  and  tattered-^in  order  to  provoke  a  sympathy  but  rarely  excited. 
Their  vocation  entails  upon  them  endless  imprisonments,  and  the  entire  life  seems  to  me  to 
be  one  of  so  much  privation  and  discomfort,  that  it  is  marvelous  how  any  rational  being  can 
voluntarily  embrace  it. 

**  The  tramps  or  ubiquitary  wanderers,"  adds  the  late  governor,  ''  display  a  taste  tar 
superior  to  that  of  the  London  *  cadgers.' " 

One  such  tramp  assured  Mr.  Chesterton,  that  the  life  he  led  suited  him ;  he  enjoyed 
the  country,  he  said,  realized  a  pleasing  variety,  and  managed,  in  one  way  or  another,  to  get 
his  wants  adequately  supplied. 

%*  Msiemeanante^  Prison, — ^Facing  the  kitchen,  at  the  Baguigge  Wells  comer  of  the 
felons'  prison  lies  that  for  the  misdemeanants,  so  that  the  three  distinct  prisons  are  built  on 
a  kind  of  diagonal  line,  which  stretches  from  the  north-eastern  to  the  south-western  comer 
of  the  boundary  wall,  aciK)Ss  the  ground  enclosed  within  it. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  341 

The  misdemeanants'  prison  is  decidedly  the  handsomest  of  the  three  buildings.  It  is 
built  of  brick,  with  white  stone  copings  to  the  windows,  which  give  a  Hyeliness  to  the 
farown  tint  of  the  front.  As  seen  from  the  grounds,  the  structure  reminds  one  of  some 
barracks.  In  the  centre  is  a  handsome,  comfortable-looking  dwelling-house  (the  abode 
of  the  depnty-goremor),  with  muslin  curtains  hanging  before  the  windows,  and  the  parlour 
looking  out  on  to  the  little  terrace,  surrounded  by  a  handsome  stone  balustrade ;  on  each 
ride  extends  the  two-storeyed  wings,  with  the  plain  brick-work  pierced  by  strongly- 
bound,  half-circular  openings,  whilst  the  entrance  to  the  prison  itself  is  through  a  kind  of 
cellar-door,  placed  like  an  arch  under  the  bridge  formed  by  the  double  flight  of  stone  steps 
which  lead  up  to  the  deputy-governor's  house. 

The  half- wheel  style  of  architecture  has  likewise  been  adopted  in  the  erection  of  this 
prison,  the  spokes  forming  four  distinct  wings.  By  excavating  the  ground,  the  architect 
has  managed  to  make  the  building,  which  outside  appears  to  have  but  two  storeys,  have,  in 
the  interior,  three  ,*  and  thus  386  cells  have  been  obtained.  All  the  wings  converge  to  the 
centre  building,  witb  which  they  commimicate  by  means  of  covered-in  bridges,  whose  sides 
of  rough  unpolished  glass  give  them  a  light  and  pleasing  look. 

In  the  first  yard  there  is  an  extensive  oakum-picking  shed,  capable  of  holding  nearly  200 
men ;  and  close  to  it  are  the  laundry  and  the  washhouse. 

The  cells  in  the  misdemeanants'  prison  are  the  smallest  of  all  those  in  the  House  of 
Correction,  for  not  only  are  they  less  by  a  foot,  both  in  breadth  and  length,  than  those  in 
the  felons'  building,  but  they  are  also  one  foot  less  in  height.  They,  too,  are  neither 
wanned,  well- ventilated,  nor  lighted. 

Three  of  the  yards  have  each  at  their  base  a  wooden  shed  in  which  the  men  take  their 
meals ;  whilst  in  the  fourth  yard  the  oakum-room  occupies  the  same  position.  There  are  also 
slate  lavatories  for  the  men  to  wash  at,  on  rising  in  the  morning.  The  other  sides  of  all  the 
yards  alike  are  occupied  by  cells  which  open  into  the  paved  court. 

Out  of  one  hundred  consecutive  cases  taken  at  random  from  the  prison  books,  we  found 
that  forty  belonged  to  the  misdemeanant  class,  and  that  the  men  had  been  convicted  of  the 
following  offences  in  the  following  proportions  : — 


Assault 

2 

Fraud         ...       3 

Perjury 

.       1 

Attempt  at  Rape 

2 

Obtaining  goods  under 

Uttering 

.     26 

Cutting  and  wounding 

3 

false  pretences .         .       3 

%♦  lines, — ^Nearly  one-half  (48  per  cent.)  of  the  prisoners  sent  to  Coldbath  Pields 
are  sent  there  owing  to  their  not  possessing  sufficient  money  to  pay  the  fine  for  which  the 
police  magistrate  has  commuted  their  particular  breach  of  the  Law.  Had  the  offender 
been  in  a  position  to  hand  over  to  the  clerk  of  the  court  the  sum  of  money  demanded,  he 
would  have  been  permitted  to  go  at  large ;  but  his  purse  being  empty,  he  is  conunitted  to 
prison.  Hence,  it  is  clear  that  the  offender  is  no  longer  sent  to  jail  because  he  has  broken 
the  laws  of  the  land,  but  because  he  has  not  sufficient  means  to  discharge  the  amount  of 
the  pecuniary  penalty  in  which  he  has  been  mulct ;  and,  consequently,  it  is  equally  clear, 
that  the  man  has  changed  his  position  of  a  criminal  into  that  of  a  debtor  to  the  State,  so 
that  his  imprisonment  does  not  in  reality  differ  much  from  that  of  a  defaulter  at  the 
county  court,  both  men  being  confined  in  a  jail  for  a  small  debt  that  they  are  unable  to 
discharge. 

It  is  not  our  intention  at  present  to  discuss  the  question  as  to  whether  it  be  politic  for  a 
State  to  compound  crimes  by  the  payment  of  so  much  money  in  the  shape  of  fines.  We  are 
merely  talking  of  the  law  as  it  exists,  and  say  that  since  it  is  deemed  expedient,  in 
certain  cases,  to  change  a  penal  offence  into  a  debt  to  the  State,  it  is  not  just  that  the 
State-debtor  should,  after  ^e  conunutation  of  the  sentence,  be  dealt  with  as  a  criminal. 


342  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  question,  therefore,  becomes,  whether  it  be  right  to  treat  a  State-debtor  urith  Bunilar 
rigour  to  that  with  which  we  would  punish  a  felon.  That  the  offenders  who  are  oom- 
mitted  to  jail  by  the  police  magistrates,  from  inability  to  pay  the  fines  imposed  upon 
them,  are  not  of  a  very  terrible  character,  is  proyen  by  the  fact  that  a  sum  of  money  is  oon> 
sidered  as  an  equivalent  for  their  infraction  of  the  law.  That  they  are  incarcerated  for  their 
poverty,  rather  than  their  transg^ression,  is  shown  by  the  feu^t  that  they  may  r^;ain  thdi 
liberty  during  any  period  of  their  sentence,  immediately  the  sum  in  which  they  have  been 
mulct  is  paid  to  the  governor  of  the  prison ;  for  the  moment  afterwards,  the  prison  uniform 
of  dirty  gray  is  cast  off,  and  the  gates  opened  for  the  egress  of  the  offender — a  mode  of 
obtaining  freedom  which  is  precisely  similar  to  the  process  gone  through  at  all  debtors' 
prisons. 

Let  us  put  the  following  case : — A  workman,  '^  out  upon  the  spree,*'  takes  too  much  to 
drink,  and  being  found  in  a  helpless  state  by  the  police,  is  carried  off  to  the  station-house,  and, 
the  next  morning,  fined  5«.  by  the  presiding  magistrate.  Now,  it  is  most  probable  that  this 
fool  either  spent  or  lost  all  his  wages  in  his  dissipation,  so  that  he  is  unable^  at  that  particular 
moment,  to  pay  the  fine ;  consequently,  although  this  man  may,  in  all  other  respects,  be  a  well- 
conducted  and  industrious  citizen,  yet,  for  the  lack  of  sixty  pence,  he  must  be  sent  to  jail  to 
suffer  seven  days'  imprisonment — even  though  his  labour,  and  therefore  his  liberty,  be 
really  worth  5«.  per  diem  to  him.  If  he  have  a  wife  and  family,  and  the  chandler's  shop- 
keeper, hearing  of  the  man's  imprisonment,  refiise  them  credit  during  his  absence,  the 
mother  and  children  must  go  to  ''  the  union ; "  and  the  frequent  attendance  of  the  pariah- 
ofQlcers  at  the  prison  gates  in  such  cases,  when  the  day  of  liberation  comes  round,  proves  that 
this  is  far  from  being  an  unconmion  occurrence. 

Viewing  this  matter  in  a  moral  light,  nothing  can  be  more  disastrous  than  such  proceed- 
ings. A  person  who  has  been  in  prison  is  a  marked  man  in  the  world.  It  matters  not 
though  he  plead  that  he  was  only  g^ty  of  not  having  5«.  in  his  pocket,  the  answer  is,  and 
will  continue  to  be,  "you  have  been  in  jail."  He  will  find  masters  turn  from  him,  and 
refuse  him  work ;  decent  landlords  will  deny  him  lodgings,  and  he  will,  consequently,  have 
to  seek  shelter  in  less  particular  quarters,  his  children  being  thus  brought  into  association 
with  the  young  vagabonds  infesting  such  places ;  and  if  he  ever  appear  again  at  a  police-court, 
no  matter  how  frivolous  the  charge,  he  wiU  be  recognized  as  a  jail-bird,  and  classed  among 
the  **hnoiDn^*  offenders — ^until  at  length,  deprived  of  all  character,  he  will  probably  enlist 
himself  among  the  regular  criminals,  and  prefer  to  live  without  labouring  at  all. 

Talking  this  subject  over  with  one  of  the  head  officers  at  the  House  of  Correction,  the 
official  advanced  the  following  case  in  proof  of  what  we  urged : — 

''A  mechanic,"  he  said,  "  goes  out,  perhaps,  for  a  spree  on  the  Wednesday  night,  takes  a 
drop  too  much,  becomes  riotous,  and  is  fined  five  shillings.  The  man  has  done  three  days* 
work  (it  often  happens  so),  but  as  he  is  not  paid  until  the  Saturday,  he  cannot  draw  his 
money,  consequentiy,  he  is  sent  here,  and  has  to  remain  with  us  as  a  criminal  until  the 
pay-day  arrives,  when  his  wife  obtains  the  wages,  and  liberates  him." 

The  object  of  wise  legislation  should  be  to  keep  men  out  of  prison  as  long  as  possible  ; 
for  not  only  is  an  impending  punishment  much  more  efficacious  as  a  deterrent  to  men  than  a 
punishment  which  has  been  already  iaflicted  on  them,  but  the  wholesome  dread  of  prison — 
that  dread  which  acts  upon  all  with  any  regard  for  character,  even  stronger  than  any  abstract 
sense  of  rectitude — ^this  feeling  once  removed,  and  the  num  is  almost  lost  to  society.  The 
aim  of  recent  legislation,  however,  seems  to  be,  to  mxdtiply  rather  than  decrease  the  number 
of  imprisonable  offences — as  the  Ordinary  of  Newgate,  has  weU  shown ;  so  that,  now-a-days, 
it  is  almost  impossible  for  a  poor  man  to  escape  jail.  A  slip  of  the  foot  as  he  walks  the 
streets  may  cause  him  to  break  a  pane  of  glass,  and  so,  if  he  cannot  pay  for  the  damage,  gain 
for  him  admission  within  the  prison  walls.  Let  a  cabman  murmur  at  his  fare — a  street  trader, 
in  his  desire  to  obtain  an  honest  Hving,  obstruct  the  thoroughikre— -a  sweep  shout  out  liia 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS. 


843 


(•aUing  in  the  Btreets — a  dustman  ring  his  bell — or  otbers  commit  a  host  of  sach  like  petty 
(jffences — and  to  prison  they  must  go,  to  wear  a  prison  dress,  and  do  the  work  of  felons. 
What  do  these  persons  learn  in  jail  ?  To  dread  the  place,  think  you  V  No,  indeed.  They 
find  the  reality  of  prison  far  less  terrible  than  their  fancy  had  imagined  it.  The  place  is  a 
palace  compared  with  many  of  their  homes.  The  cares  of  life — ^the  struggle  for  bread  that 
goes  on  outside — all  cease  within  the  prison  gates.  They  are  weU  fed,  well  housed,  well 
clothed — better,  perhaps,  than  ever  they  were  in  their  lives  before,  and  without  a  fear,  too, 
for  the  morrow.* 

**  Thirty-three  per  cent,  of  ra-commitments  to  Coldbath  Fields  was  the  steady  ratio  for 
years,'*  writes  Mr.  Chesterton,  the  late  governor ;  and  the  prison  returns  for  the  last  year 
inform  us  that  out  of  a  total  of  7,743  prisoners,  who  were  sent  there  during  the  twelve 
months,  2,517  had  been  previously  confined  in  the  same  prison — ^being  at  the  rate  of  32 i  per 
cent.f    Does  this  exhibit  any  very  lively  dread  of  returning  to  the  place. 

Now,  the  principle  of  punishment  by  fines  appears  to  us  to  be  an  admirable  mode 
of  keeping  men  out  of  prison  and  yet  of  punishing  them  sufficiently  for  slight  offences.  But 
in  order  to  keep  men  out  of  prison  as  long  as  possible,  every  facility  should  be  given  to  the 
poor  (and  tbey  are  the  principal  class  fined)  for  the  payment  of  the  penalty.  A  fine  is  simply 
a  debt  due  to  the  State,  and  why  should  the  State  be  a  harsher  creditor  than  it  permits 
its  subjects  to  be.  Are  there  no  other  ways  of  recovering  a  debt  than  by  criminal  imprison- 
ment. Society,  by  the  establishment  of  the  county  courts,  where  debts  are  permitted  to  be 
paid  by  small  instalments,  recognises  the  great  principle  of  making  imprisonment  a  last  resort, 
and  giving  the  poor  every  chance  of  avoiding  it.  Nor  does  the  legislature  hold  it  just  that 
debtors  should  be  associated  with  felons  and  criminals,  for  it  has  ordered  a  special  place  to 
be  appropriated  to  the  confinement  of  debtors,  apart  firom  thieves  and  vagabonds. 


•  The  following  table  will  gWe  the 
for  vhich  the  prisoners  are  committed 
tarns  made  to  the  Justices  for  the  last 
prisoners  are  incarcerated  is  as  under : 

P 

Felonies,  with  imprison- 
ment and  hard  labour   . 

Common  Assaults 

Simple  Larceny   . 

Beputed  ThieTcs 

Unlawful  Poesesflion 

Uttering  or  Possessing 
Base  Coin 

Soldiers  by  Court  Martial 

Frauds  tried  at  Sessions  . 

Assaults  on  Police  Con- 
stables 

Assaults  on  Women  and 
Children,  with  Intent  . 

Miademeanour 

Misbehayiour  in  Work- 
house   . 


reader  some  notion  as  to  the  relative  proportion  of  the  several  offences 
to  Coldbath  Fields;  for  we  find,  from  cuilculations  based  on  the  re- 
Julj  quarter,  that  the  per  oentage  of  the  various  crimes  for  which  the 


Cent 

Percent 

Begging  or  Sleeping  in 

43-83 

open  air 

•77 

1382 

Unlawful    Collection    of 

10-19 

Dust    . 

•61 

8-25 

Wilful  Damage    . 

•61 

3-99 

Drunk  and  Disorderly     . 

•65 

Conspiracies  to  Defraud . 

55 

3-69 

Cutting  and  Maiming      . 

•47 

2-62 

Attempt  at  Burglary 

•38 

2-39 

Illegally  Pawning 

•38 

Excise  Offences   < 

•30 

1-94 

Indecent     Exposure     of 

Person             *. 

•30 

1-16 

Dog  Stealing 

•24 

•93 

Furious  Driving  and  In- 

solence to  Fares 

•16 

•93 

Abduction 

•08 

Percent 

Leaving  Families  Charge- 

able 

•16 

Assaults  Unnatural 

•08 

Bastardy . 

•08 

Cruelty  to  Animals 

•08 

False  Characters  . 

•08 

Keeping  Brothels 

•08 

Stealing    Fruit,    Plants, 

Trees,  &o. 

•08 

Trespassing,         Fishing, 

Poaching,  &c.   . 

•08 

Wilful  and  Corrupt  Per- 

jury    . 

•08 

Obtaining  Money  by  False 

Pretences 

•08 

1000 


t  TAJSLR  8H0WIXO  THB  NVMBSR  OF  BE-COMMITUSNTS  TO   COLDBATH  FIELDS  PBISON  DURIKO  TKB  YEAH 

ENDIKO  MICHABLMAB,    1866. 

The  number  of  priaoners  (except  debtors)  confined  In  fhls  prlaon  PriMmers  of  17 

in  the  coarse  of  the  year  who  hare  been  prerioasly  years  of  age 

eommittod  to  this  prison.  and  apwaids. 

Committed  once  before    .                 .   ^ 1,679 

Ditto           twice  before 684 

Ditto           thrice  before  ...                 ....  163 

Ditto           four  times  or  more 201 


Total  number  of  re-commitments  in  the  coarse  of  the  year 
Tota  number  of  commitments         •       .        •        . 


2,617 
7,748 


844  THE  GBJEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

The  govemment  has  thus  shown  that  it  regards  the  commingliiig  of  debtors  and  criminals 
as  both  iniquitous  and  impolitic ;  then  why,  we  ask,  should  it  persist  in  sending  the  very 
poorest  form  of  debtor — ^the  one  who  cannot  pay  even  five  shillings — ^to  eat  and  mix  with  the 
dregs  of  society,  to  pick  oakum  beside  the  bui^lar,  and  drink  from  the  same  tin  with  the 
felon  ?  Could  not  the  county  court  system  be  applied  to  the  recovery  of  fines  as  well  as  of 
small  debtS;  and  the  penalty  be  liquidated  by  instalments  ?  To  the  honest,  but  imprudent, 
man — and  this  is  the  class  of  persons  whom  we  are  bound  chiefly  to  consider — such  a  step 
would  be  the  greatest  of  all  blessings ;  a  leniency  which,  while  it  punished  the  ofEsnder, 
would  do  so  without  sending  his  wife  and  family  to  the  workhouse,  and  which,  by  the 
continued  smarting  of  small  weekly  payments,  would  be  far  more  likely  than  imprisonment 
to  teach  him  to  shun  wrong-doing  for  the  future. 

Some  may  object  to  this  scheme  on  the  ground  that  it  would  be  difficult  to  obtain  the 
instalments  from  the  State -debtors,  so  that  a  large  proportion  would  escape  punishment 
altogether.  Our  answer  is  based  upon  information  obtained  from  one  of  the  county  court 
judges,  who  assured  us  that,  out  of  seyeral  thousand  qpses  tried  by  him  in  the  course  of  the 
year,  the  imprisonments  for  non-payment  of  the  instalments  amounted  to  less  than  ten  per 
thousand. 

Further,  in  illustration  of  the  iniquity  of  the  present  principle  of  summary  imprisonment 
for  inability  to  pay  a  certain  fine,  we  subjoin  an  extract  from  Mr.  Chesterton's  (the  late 
governor's)  book,  in  which  an  instance  is  given  of  a  man  who,  made  desperate  by  the 
disgrace  of  being  sent  to  prison,  put  an  ond  to  his  existence  there.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that 
this  poor  creature  would  have  paid  the  amount  if  only  a  few  days'  grace  had  been  granted 
him ;  for,  as  the  governor  tells  us,  the  money  was  brought  to  the  gate  within  an  hour  or  two 
after  his  death.  **  Within  a  short  period  of  my  retirement,  a  man  effected  suicide  by 
hanging,  who  had  simply  been  committed  for  seven  days  in  default  of  the  payment  of  a  very 
trifling  fine.  He  was  discovered  in  the  morning  suspended  in  his  cell,  the  body  being  per- 
fectly cold.  To  render  this  sad  event  still  more  afflicting,  the  paltry  fine  of  a  few  MUmgi 
was  tendered  on  the  forenoon  of  the  discovery,  and  but  a  few  hours  of  patient  endurance 
would  have  seen  the  deceased  relieved  from  a  confinement  which  had  so  evidently  unaettled 
his  intellect." 

But  while  proposing  that  the  principle  of  fines  in  lieu  of  imprisonments  should  be 
extended,  and,  in  coi\junction  with  the  principle  of  payment  by  instalments,  be  applied 
to  those  minor  infractions  of  social  rules,  which,  assuredly,  do  not  belong  to  the  criminal 
class  of  offences  (such  as  crying  ''sweep,"  ringing  bells  by  dustmen,  obstructing  the 
thoroughfare  by  street  traders,  sleeping  in  the  open  air,  being  drunk  and  disorderly, 
accidental  breaking  of  windows,  hawking  without  a  license,  fortune-telling,  and  a  variety  of 
such  like  peccadilloes),  and  proposing  this  change  mainly  because  we  hold  it  to  be  most 
politic  in  a  State  to  keep  a  man  out  of  prison  as  long  as  possible,  rather  than  be  too  eager  to 
disgrace  and  corrupt  him  by  thrusting  him  into  it  on  every  paltry  pretence — ^we  are,  at  the 
same  time,  well  aware  that  this  old  Saxon  principle  of  ''  mulcts"  is  far  from  being  a  just 
punishment,  when  the  same  pecuniary  penalty  is  alike  infiicted  upon  the  affluent  and  the 
needy.  Assuredly  the  well-to-do  and,  therefore,  the  well-educated,  have  not  one  tithe  of  the 
excuse  for  their  transgressions  that  can  be  fedrly  pleaded  by  those  who  have  seldom  been 
schooled  by  any  kinder  master  than  want  and  ignorance.  Moreover,  the  wealthier  riafiocn 
have  not  only  less  excuse  for  their  offenq^s,  but  also  greater  means  of  paying  whatever 
penalty  may  be  imposed  upon  them ;  so  that  to  attach  a  definite  fine,  or  so  many  days' 
imprisonment,  to  a  breach  of  the  law,  is  to  enable  the  very  class  of  people  who  deserve 
the  severest  punishment  to  get  off  with  the  lightest  infliction ;  whilst  it  is  also  to  treat 
with  the  greatest  rigour  of  the  law,  those  towards  whom  every  principle  of  humanity,  and 
oven  equity,  commands  us  to  be  lenient. 

We  would,  therefore,  while  proposing  such  a  change  as  that  here  suggested,  propose  also 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  345 

tbat  such  fines,  instead  of  being  fixed  as  now  at  deJiniU  Bams,  to  be  inflicted  alike  upon  aU 
clames,  should  be  made  to  bear  something  like  a  just  proportion  to  the  means  of  the 
offenders.  For  this  purpose,  it  seems  to  us  that  the  amount  of  the  fine  should  be  based  on 
a  per  centage  of  the  annual  rental  paid  by  the  person  in  custody,  the  magistrate  having  a 
discretion  allowed  to  him  to  vary  the  ratio,  according  to  the  enormity  of  the  outrage — ^&om 
say  2}  to  10  per  cent.  Further,  in  case  of  inability  to  pay,  we  would  have  no  man's  liberty 
yalned  at  less  than  an  ordinary  labourer's  wage  of  2«.  6d,  a-day,  and  so  put  an  end  to  the 
barbarism  of  some  men  being  committed  to  prison  by  magistrates  on  account  of  non-payment 
of  fines,  for  a  term  which  estimates  their  freedom  at  4|(f.  per  diem,  while  others  value  the 
luxury  of  being  at  large  as  high  as  3a.  l^J.  a-day.  On  the  29th  September,  1855,  the 
official  returns  tell  us  that — 

The  total  number  of  prisoners  in  Coldbath  Fields  was  .     .     .  .     1,301 

Of  these—  

The  nxmiber  convicted  at  assizes  and  sessions  was  ....  823 

„  „  Bumaarily 478 


1,301 


Fence,  it  appears  that  more  than  86  per  cent,  of  the  prisoners  there  are  committed  by 
the  magistrates. 

It  will  be  seen,  by  the  fSocts  cited  below,  that  some  regular  scale  requires  to  be  laid 
down  as  to  the  proportion  that  the  term  of  the  imprisonment  should  bear  to  the  amount  of 
the  fine  imposed  by  their  worships ;  so  that,  henceforth,  sununary  decisions  may  be  rendered 
less  incongruous,  and  less  like  mere  caprices  of  the  moment.  The  magistrates  all  obviously 
entertain  difiRerent  notions  as  to  the  imprisonment  that  should  be  attached  to  the  non- 
payment of  each  fine-— one  awarding  fourteen  days  for  a  5^.  offence,  another  considering 
leven  days  to  be  a  just  period  in  lieu  of  a  fine  of  225.*    That  our  magistrates  are  honourable 

*  In  proof  of  the  above  assertion  we  subjoin  an  analysis  of  forty-eight  cases  of  fines,  taken  from  100  con« 
■eeotire  offences,  selected  at  random  from  the  prison  books. 

Ihirteen  of  these  were  for  common  atoaulio,  one  of  which  got  seven  days,  or  lOs,  fine ;  another,  seven  days, 
or  30#.  fine ;  another,  twelve  days,  or  32«.  fine ;  two  others,  fourteen  days,  or  20f.  fine ;  another,  fourteen 
days,  or  only  lOf.  fine ;  one  other,  twenty-one  days,  or  60«.  fine ;  anoUier,  thirty  days,  or  20«.  fine ;  two 
othen,  thirty  days,  or  40«.  fine ;  and  two,  thirty  days,  or  60s.  fine. 

Further,  ten  more  of  the  offences  consisted  of  atsauUa  on  ih$  police^  and  for  these  the  punishments  were 
IS  follows : — One  had  five  days,  or  I  Of.  fine ;  another,  seven  days,  or  6t.  fine ;  a  third,  the  same  number  of 
days,  and  yet  10a.  fine ;  a  fourth,  eight  days,  or  20f.  fine ;  a  fifth,  ten  days,  or  30a.  fine ;  a  sixth,  fourteen 
days,  or  only  lOf .  fine ;  and  two  others,  the  same  number  of  days,  and  yet  20f.  fine ;  another,  twenty -one 
dsys^  or  60#.  fine ;  and  the  hist,  thirty  days,  or  20f .  fine. 

Nine  of  the  cases,  on  the  other  huid,  were  for  auaulU  on  fomales.  Of  these,  one  had  fourteen  days,  or 
20t.  fine ;  two,  thirty  days,  or  40#.  fine ;  one  other,  forty-two  days,  or  60a.  fine ;  and  the  remaining  five, 
lixty  days,  or  lOOf.  Sue. 

Besides  the  above,  there  were  seven  cases  of  being  drunk  and  riolotis,  and  three  of  these  were  sentenced 
to  seren  days,  or  6s.  fine ;  three  to  seven  days,  or  lOf.  fine ;  and  one  to  fourteen  days,  or  20«.  fine. 

Agamtt  th»  Cab  Act  there  were  two  offenoes ;  the  one  was  sentenced  to  seven  days,  or  22«.  fine,  and  the 
other  to  fourteen  days,  or  20«.  fine. 

For  CUgaUy  pawning^  one  ease  got  fourteen  days,  or  8f.  fine,  and  the  other  as  much  as  sixty  days,  or 
140«.  fine. 

Then,  for  damage  dona  to  a  window,  of  which  there  were  two  instances ;  one  of  the  offenders  had  seven 
days,  or  6m.  6d.  fine,  and  the  other  ybi/r^Mii  days,  or  6a.  Jim. 

For  tUdUng  fruity  the  punishment  was  seven  days,  or  6».  2d.  fine ;  and,  in  a  bastardy  case,  thirty  days 
was  given  in  lieu  of  22«.  fine. 

Nor  did  the  London  magistrates  seem  to  have  any  more  settled  notion  as  to  the  daily  value  of  a  man's 
liberty  than  they  had  concerning  the  punishments  which  they  adjudged  it  necessary  to  inflict  for  the  same 
offence ;  for,  whilst  some  justices  appraised  the  luxury  of  being  at  large  at  the  rate  of  iid,  per  dicm^  others 
estimated  it  at  no  less  than  Ze.  1  Id.  a-day,  e.g. :~ 

On  analysing  these  same  forty-eight  cases  in  which  fines  had  been  inflicted,  we  found  that  in  one  of  them 


346  THE  GBEAT  WOELB  OF  LONDON. 

men,  Btem  and  upright  in  their  judgmenta,  neither  allowing  themselves  to  be  infloenoed 
by  wealth  or  poverty,  not  even  the  most  suspicions  can  do  other  than  believe.  Still  they 
are  afflicted  with  human  constitutions  and  human  ailments,  and  their  minds,  like  those  of 
other  men,  aie  influenced  by  the  derangements  of  their  bodily  systems.  A  disordered 
stomach  may  make  even  the  most  righteous  nature  see  that  act  as  a  heinous  offence,  and 
worthy  of  the  severest  punishment,  which  the  same  person,  in  a  state  of  perfect  health, 
would  regard  as  but  a  trivial  error. 

*♦*  Q/"  the  Prmn  Kitchen  and  Did. — ^The  kitchen,  where  the  daily  food  of  the  1,300 
inhabitants  of  Goldbath  Pields  prison  is  cooked,  is  as  large  and  lofty  as  a  bam,  so  that 
despite  the  heat  required  for  the  culinary  purposes,  the  air  is  cool,  and  even  the  panes  in  the 

a  British  Bubject's  liberty  vas  valued  at  4|d  a-day ;  this  oonBisted  of  damage  done  to  glass,  for  which  the 
■entenoe  was  fourteen  days,  or  6$.  fine. 

In  the  next  case  the  freedom  was  estimated  at  ^\d.  a-day,  and  this  was  for  illegally  pawning — ^the  sen- 
tence being  fourteen  days,  or  8«.  fine. 

Then  came  three  casee  where  the  liberty  was  considered  to  be  worth  Sd.  per  diem.  These  were— one 
common  assault,  one  assault  on  police,  and  one  bastardy  caae,  in  all  of  which  the  sentence  waa  thirty  daya^ 
imprisonment,  or  20«.  fine. 

After  this  we  hare  six  cases,  valuing  the  liberty  at  %\d.  per  diem.  Three  of  these  were  for  being  dnink 
and  riotous,  and  ooe  for  an  assault  on  the  police,  each  of  which  was  sentenced  to  seven  days'  imprisonment, 
or  5«.  fine ;  whereas  the  other  two  cases,  which  consisted  of  a  common  assault  and  an  assault  on  the  poUcey 
were  respectively  sentenced  to  fourteen  days,  or  10«.  fine. 

Then  followed  one  case  in  which  the  liberty  was  appraised  at  8|<2.  a-day.  This  was  for  stealing  fruit,  the 
sentence  beicg  seven  days,  or  5«.  2c2#fine;  and  another  (breaking  a  window)  valuing  the  liberty  at  \\d.  per 
diem,  the  punishment  being  seven  days,  or  6«.  6<2.  fine ;  and  a  common  assault,  in  which  the  magistrate 
thought  the  liberty  was  worth  1«.  lf<i.  a-day,  and  adjudged  the  offender  either  to  forty-five  days'  imprison- 
ment, or  50f .  fine. 

In  the  next  four  cases,  the  worth  of  the  liberty  was  estimated  at  \s.  id,  per  diem ;  two  of  these  were  for 
common  assault,  and  two  for  assaults  on  females,  all  being  alike  sentenced  to  thirty  days'  imprisonment,  or 
40«.  fine. 

Kext  we  find  the  'liberty  rise,  in  the  magistrate's  opinion,  to  U,  6d,  a-day ;  for  two  oases  of  common 
assault,  and  assault  on  the  police,  and  three  cases  of  being  drunk  and  riotous,  were  alike  oondemned  to  seven 
days,  or  10a.  fine ;  and  there  were  several  other  cases  at  the  same  rate,  of  which  seven  were  adjudged  to 
fourteen  days'  imprisonment,  or  20«.  fine ;  and  the  last  to  forty-two  days'  imprisonment,  or  60«.  fine — con- 
sisting of  such  different  acts  as  two  common  assaulta,  two  assaults  on  police,  two  assaults  on  females,  and 
one  against  the  Cab  Act. 

In  five  other  cases  the  value  of  the  liberty  was  increased  to  la.  Sd.  the  day.  These  were  all  assaults  on 
females,  and  the  punishment,  in  every  case,  was  sixty  days'  imprisonment,  or  lOOf.  fine. 

On  the  other  hand,  2»,  a-day  was  the  price  affixed  to  the  men's  freedom ;  in  five  cases  the  sentence  bein^ 
thirty  days'  imprisonment,  or  60s,  fine,  for  two  common  assaults,  and  five  days,  or  IDs.  fine,  for  an  assault  on 
the  police. 

Moreover,  in  a  case  of  illegally  pawning,  the  value  of  the  liberty  was  set  down  at  2t.  4<i  the  day,  ti»e 
aentence  being  sixty  days,  or  140«.  fine. 

Again,  in  an  assault  on  the  police,  the  estimate  of  the  value  of  the  liberty  was  not  less  than  2t.  td,  the 
day,  for  in  that  case  the  decision  was  eight  days,  or  20s,  fine. 

Then,  by  another  gentleman  on  the  bench,  the  price  of  the  liberty  was  raised  to  2s,  Sd,  the  day,  for  a 
common  assault,  which  was  punished  with  twelve  days,  or  32s.  fine ;  whilst,  in  another  assault  case,  in  whidi 
the  adjudication  was  seven  days,  or  20s,  fine,  the  average  value  of  the  liberty  was  taken  at  2«.  lOJ.  per  diem; 
whereas,  in  another  common  assault,  as  well  as  one  on  the  police,  the  amount  of  the  appraisement  le^wd  np 
to  2s.  I0\d,  a-day ;  for  the  sentence,  in  both  of  these  cases,  was  twenty-one  days,  or  60«.  fine. 

In  another  assault  on  the  police,  however,  Zs,  was  reckoned  to  be  the  worth  of  a  man' s  freedom,  as  the 
penal  infiiction  was  ten  days,  or  30«.  fine ;  and  lastly,  in  an  offence  against  the  Cab  Act,  which  got  ssivbbi 
days,  or  22«.  fine,  it  was  found  that  the  valuation  for  ih»  liberty,  in  thia  instance,  was  taken  at  an  average  of 
Ss,  lid.  per  diem. 

Nor  did  these  vague  ideas  and  fluctuations  in  the  liberty  market,  at  the  London  police-offices,  arise  from 
any  specific  difference  in  the  offimoee  themselves,  but  simply  from  the  different  sense  of  justice  in  the 
terial  mind. 


HOUSE  OF  COUEECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS.  347 

sky-lights  let  into  the  Blanting  wood  roof,  are  free  £rom  condenfled  vapour.  Everything  is 
oooked  by  steam,  and  the  whole  place  seems  to  be  condacted  on  the  gigantic  scale  of  an 
American  boarding-honse ;  for  there  is  but  one  pot  to  be  seen,  and  that  holds  at  least  ten 
gallons.  In  a  kind  of  recess,  surronnded  by  an  iron  railing,  are  the  two  boilers  for  generating 
&e  steam,  the  black  round  tops  arching  up  from,  the  crimson  brick-work,  and  each  with  a 
small  white  plume  of  steam  hissing  out  of  the  safety  valyes.  The  different  articles  of  food 
are  being  prepared  for  the  prisoners^  dinners  in  the  immense  square  iron  tank — for  they 
are  more  like  cisterns  than  boilov — ^ranged  against  the  wall.  In  one,  with  the  bright  copper- 
lid,  which  is  so  heavy  that  it  has  to  be  raised  by  means  of  an  equipoise,  are  100  gallons  of 
cocoa,  the  red-brown  scum  on  the  top  heaving  and  sinking  with  the  heat ;  in  another  are 
suspended  hampers  of  potatoes;  whilst  other  compartments  contain  150  gallons  of  what, 
from  the  "  eyes"  of  grease  gUttering  on  the  surface,  you  guess  to  be  soup,  or  which,  from 
its  viscid,  pasty  appearance,  you  know  to  be  the  prison  gruel. 

It  takes  two  cooks  three  hours  and  a  half  merely  to  weigh  out  the  rations  reqidred  for 
this  enormous  establishment.  One  of  these  stands  beside  a  mass — ^high  as  a  truss  of  hay — 
of  dices  of  boiled  meat,  and,  with  extraordinary  rapidity,  places  pieces  of  the  pale  lean  and 
the  yellow  fat  in  the  scales,  until  the  six-ounce  weight  moves.  The  other  is  occupied  with 
the  potatoes,  dividing  the  hamper  fiUed  with  the  steaming,  brown-skinned  vegetables  into 
portions  of  eight  ounces  each.  The  sight  of  such  immense  quantities  of  provisions,  and  the 
peculiar  smell  given  off  from  the  cooling  of  boiled  meats,  has  rather  a  sickening  effect  upon 
any  one,  like  ourselves,  not  hungry  at  the  time.  All  the  soup  is  made  out  of  buUocks'  heads; 
and  in  the  larder,  hanging  to  hooks  against  the  slate-covered  wall,  we  beheld  several  of 
these  suspended  by  the  lips,  and  looking  fearfully  horrible,  with  the  white  bones  showing 
through  the  crimson  flesh,  so  that  the  sight  called  up  in  our  mind  our  youthfril  fancies  of 
what  we  had  imagined  to  be  the  character  of  Bluebeard's  closet. 

A  curious  use  is,  by  the  by,  made  of  the  jaw-bones  of  these  bullocks'  heads.  After  the 
flesh  and  all  its  '' goodness"  has  been  boiled  frx)m  it,  the  "maxilla  inferior,"  as  doctors  call 
it,  is  used  to  form  ornamental  borders  to  the  gravel  walks  in  the  grounds,  in  the  same  way 
as  oyster-shells  are  sometimes  turned  to  account  in  the  nine-feet-by-six  gardens  in  the 
suburbe. 

The  dinner  hour  for  the  prisoners  is  two  o'clock ;  and  as  1  pint  of  gruel  and  6|  ounces  of 
bread  do  not  coincide  with  an  Englishman's  notion  of  that  meal,  we  were  desirous  of 
seeing  whether  the  prisoners  ate  their  rations  with  any  appearance  of  relish  after  their  labour. 

In  the  yard  which  we  visited,  the  men  were  being  exercised  until  the  repast  was  ready ; 
marching  up  and  down  in  a  long  chain,  as  smartly  as  if  the  object  was  to  put  a  finishing 
^ge  upon  their  appetites.  Big  tubs,  fiUed  with  thick  gruel,  had  been  carried  into  the 
dining-sheds,  and  a  pint  measure  of  the  limpid  paste  had  been  poured  into  the  tin  mugs, 
and  this,  together  with  a  spoon  and  the  6|  ounces  of  bread,  were  ranged  down  the  narrow 
stnpe  of  tables,  that  extend  in  three  rows  the  whole  length  of  the  place.  As  the  clock 
struck  two,  the  file  of  prisoners  in  the  yard  received  an  order  to  ''Halt,"  and,  after  a 
moment's  rest,  the  word  of  command  was  given  to  take  their  places  at  the  table.  Then  the 
chain  moved  to  the  door ;  and,  as  each  human  link  entered,  he  took  off  his  old  stocking- 
like cap,  and  passing  down  between  the  forms  reached  his  seat.  The  men  sat  still  for  a 
second  or  two,  with  the  smoking  gruel  before  them,  until  the  order  was  given  to  "  Draw  up 
tables !"  and  instantly  the  long  light  "  dressers  "  were,  with  a  sudden  rattle,  pulled  close  to 
tiie  men.  Then  the  warder,  taking  off  his  cap,  cried  out,  ''Pay  attention  to  grace!"  and 
every  head  was  bent  down  as  one  of  the  prisoners  repeated  these  words : — 

"  Sanctify,  we  beseech  thee,  0  Lord,  these  thy  good  things  to  our  use,  and  us  to  thy 
service,  through  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ."  A  diout  of  "Amen! "  followed,  and  directly 
afterwards  the  tinkling  of  the  spoons  against  the  tin  cans  was  heard,  accompanied  by  the 
peculiar  sound  resembling  "  sniffing,"  that  is  made  by  persons  eating  half-liquid  messes 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


LIBEKilTION  OP  FBISOHEKS  FROII  COLDSATH  FIELDS  HOUSE  OF  COHBECTIOK. 

mth  a  spoon.  Two  prisoners,  canying  boxes  of  salt,  passed  along  in  front  of  the  tables, 
from  man  to  man,  while  each  in  bis  turn  dipped  bis  spoon  in  and  helped  himself.  Ihe 
"good  things,"  as  the  -water-gruel  and  bit  of  bread  are  ironically  termed  in  the  grace,  irere 
soon  despatched,  and  then  the  men,  reaching  each  little  sack  of  books  which  bad  been  sos- 
ponded  above  their  heads  from  the  ceiling,  like  so  many  fly-catchers,  passed  the  remainder 
of  their  dinner-hour  reading. 

There  is  one  point  in  the  prison  dietary  for  which  we  can  see  no  sufficing  reason.  All 
prisoners  committed  to  jail  for  fourteen  days  and  under  (and  whose  crimes  are  therefore  the 
lightest)  are  made  to  live  on  gruel  and  bread,  whilst  those  whose  term  of  imprisonment 
exceeds  fourteen  days  and  does  not  extend  to  two  months,  obtain  a  somewhat  improred  diet ; 
and  all  sentenced  to  any  teim  above  two  months  (and  who  have  therefore  been  guilty  of  the 
heaviest  offences)  are  allowed  meat  or  soup  every  day,  and,  indeed,  partake  of  the  beat  kind 
of  food  permitted  by  law  in  a  prison. 

The  dietary  adopted  at  Coldbath  Fields  is  based  upon  that  recommended  by  the  prison 
inspectors,  and  ordered  by  Her  Kajesty's  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Home  Department.  It 
differs,  however,  slightly  in  the  weight  of  food.  Thus,  the  daily  allowance  of  bread  recom- 
mended by  the  government  for  prisoners  confined  for  terms  nnder  fourteen  days  is  34  ox., 
whilst  that  served  out  at  the  House  of  Correction  is  limited  to  20  oz.  Again,  the  House  of 
Coirection  prisoners,  who  are  sentenced  to  more  than  fourteen  days  and  less  than  two  montha, 
have  their  breakiast  and  dinner  bread  docked  of  a  slight  weight ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
meat  served  twice  a-week  is  doubled.  Therefore,  the  criminals  who  suffer  the  mo*t,  owiog  to 
this  difference  between  the  govemmpnt  and  county  allowances  of  food,  are  those  who  have 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  COLDBATH  FIELDS. 


349 


been  gxiilty  of  the  alightMt  offences,  •'.«.,  the  class  whose  term  of  imprisonment  does  not 
ezoeed  fourteen  days. 

In  framing  the  prison  dietaries,  the  length  of  the  term  to  which  the  prisoner  is  condemned 
has  been  taken  into  consideration,  and  for  the  following  reasons: — '"Imprisonment,"  say 
the  aulihorities,  ''has  naturally  a  depressing  influence  over  the  mind,  which  greatly  diminishes 
the  powers  of  nutrition  in  the  body,  and  the  longer  the  term  the  more  marked  will  be  the 
effect"  To  counteract  this  evil,  recourse  is  had  to  the  stimulus  afforded  by  an  increase  of 
food— the  loss  of  health  and  strength  being,  as  Sir  James  Graham  has  humanely  expressed  it, 
"a  punishment  not  contemplated  by  law,  and  which  it  is  unjust  and  cruel  to  inflict." 


Days. 


Mondftj  . 
rneadty  . 
WedjMMsy 
ThnwiBT  . 
FHdiy.  . 
Satvdiy  . 
Saoday.    . 


FiBflT  Clam— i.e..  all  Prisoners 
whose  terms  of  ImpriMiiimeiit 
exceed  two  Months. 


BrtakfaaL 


% 

u 


46| 


i 


PlBl 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


Ox. 

6 
6 

6 


16} 


XMMMot^« 


cS 


Ob. 
6 
6 

6 

•*• 
6 


S4 


« 

I 


Os. 

8 
8 

•  •■ 

8 
8 


83 


I 


Pint 

•  •• 

•  •V 

••• 


H 


Supper. 


Os. 

6 

6 

C 

8 

8 

8 

8 


«l 


e 


Pint 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


SxcoND  Class — i.e.,  aU  Prisoners  whose 
terms  of  Imprisonment  do  not  ex- 
ceed two  months,    and  do  exeeed 
fourteen  days. 


Breakfu^, 


I 


Os. 

6 
6 
6 
8 
6 
6 
6 


18} 


I 
O 

Pint 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


/ 


Ox. 
& 
8i 
8i 

e\ 
al 

8; 

8j 


m 


Dinim: 


t 


Os. 
8 

•  •« 

•  •• 

•  •• 

8 

••• 


18 


I 

S 

o 

p4 


Ox. 
8 

•  •• 
•»• 

■  ■• 

8 


18 


I 


Pint 

■  •• 


I 


Pint 
1 


1 
1 


Stvpmr. 


I 


Ox 

8 

6 

8 

8 

6 

61 

6 


48} 


0 

U 


Pint 


Si 


laiRD  Class  —  t.0.,  all 
Prisoners  whose  terms 
of  Imprisonment  are 
14  days  andundi'r. 


BrtaJ^aat. 


Ox. 

8 

6 

6 

8 

8 

61 

6; 


48} 


e 


Pint 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


Dinner. 


1 


Ox. 


61 

6! 

6i 


8 


46} 


E 

o 


Pini 
I 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


I 

n 

Ox. 

6j 
6] 

6! 
81 


48} 


e 


Pint 


H 


Hence,  the  greater  allowance  of  diet  granted  to  the  longer  sentence  men  rests  upon  the 
tact  that  the  minds  of  such  prisoners  are  more  depressed  than  those  committed  for  a  shorter 
period.  The  meat  and  soup  for  dinner  are  given  as  a  species  of  medicine,  which  the  short- 
tenn  men,  who  carry  to  jail  a  body  healthy  with  recent  liberty  and  a  mind  supported  by  the 
knowledge  of  a  speedy  liberation,  are  not  supposed  to  require. 

But  is  this  really  so  ?  Which  of  these  two  classes  of  men,  the  one  who  enters  a  prison 
for  the  first  time,  or  the  one  who  has  been  recommitted  again  and  again,  is  the  more  likely 
to  be  affected  by  his  degraded  position  ?  First  offenders  are  seldom  severely  punished,  whereas 
the  old  jail-birds,  after  many  recommitments,  get  heavy  sentences.  The  man,  therefore, 
who  ifl  sent  to  prison  for  a  few  days,  is  likely  to  be  more  depressed  than  he  who  is  committed 
for  two  years. 

That  the  greatest  mental  depression  is  experienced  on  first  entering  a  prison,  there  are 
numerous  and  convincing  proofs.  The  cases  of  suicide  in  a  jail  are  those  committed  by 
newly-arrived  criminals.  Whenever  a  prisoner  has  attempted  to  starve  himself  to  death,  it 
has  generally  been  at  the  commencement  of  his  incarceration,  and  it  is  only  after  he  has  in  a 
measure  be(K>me  reconciled,  by  a  few  days'  sojourn,  to  the  scenes  around  him,  that  he  has 
relented  of  his  purpose,  and  taken  food. 

Again,  is  not  this  rule  of  giving  better  diet  to  long-term  prisoners  productive  of  evil,  as 
offering  a  premium,  as  it  were,  for  heavy  offences.  The  professed  thieves,  many  of  whom 
pass  a  good  part  of  their  lives  in  a  jail,  are  well  acquainted  with  the  discipline  and  dietary 
of  every  prison  in  the  Metropolis.  They  are  aware  that  gruel  and  bread  await  them  if  they 
attempt  and  fedl  in  some  petty  undertaking ;  and  therefore  manage  so  that  by  a  three  months' 
committal  they  can  enjoy  the  luxury  of  the  highest  class  of  diet,  or  that  which  provides  meat 
or  sonp  for  their  dinner  every  day  out  of  the  seven.  We  must  bear  in  mind  that,  with  this  class 
of  society,  food  forms  one  of  the  greatest  enjoyments ;  indeed,  all  the  gains  of  their  robberies 
are  diaposed  of  in  eating  and  drinking,  and  other  animal  propensities ;  so  strongly,  indeed 
25 


350 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


are  they  influenced  by  the  quantity  of  their  meals,  that  very  lately  a  prisoner  at  Coldbath 
Fields,  on  the  mere  supposition  that  the  bread  served  to  him  at  dinner  was  smaller  than  that 
of  his  neighbour,  was  so  angered,  that,  breaking  open  one  of  the  warder's  boxes,  he  obtained 
possession  of  a  knife,  and,  two  days  after  the  imaginary  wrong  had  been  committed,  stabbed 
the  officer  whom  he  taxed  as  the  author  of  it.* 


*   TJLBLB   OF  EXPENDrrUJaE  AND   RECEIPTS   OF  COLDBATH   FIELDS  PBISOM  IN  THE  YEAR   1854,    OOXPABED 

WITH   THE  ATERAGE  FOR  ALL  OTHER  PRISONS   IN    1863. 


COST  OF  PRISON  PER  ANNUM. 


Total  ooet  of  Prison  Diet  and  Extra 
Allowances,  by  order  of 
the  Surgeon,  and  Wine, 
Beer,  &c. 

Male  Clothing,  Bedding, 
and  Straw 

Officers'  Salaries  and  Ra- 
tions, and  Pensions  to 
Retired  Officers 

Fnel,  Soap,  and  other 
cleansing  materials.  Oil 
and  Gas  . 

Stationery,  Printing,  and 
Books,  Furniture  and 
Utensils,  &c.,  Rent, 
Rates,  and  Taxes 

Support  of  Prisoners  re- 
moved under  Contract  to 
be  confined  in  other  Ju- 
risdicticms,  and  removal 
of  Convicts  and  Prison- 
ers to  and  from  Trial, 
and  to  other  Prisons  for 
punishment,  &o. 

Sundry  Contingendes  not 
enumerated        .  • 


t> 


t» 


»f 


II 


>t 


If 


Total  expenses  for  the  Prison  for  the 
year,  not  including  Re- 
pairs, Alterataonsi  and 
Additions 
„  Repairs^  Alterations,  and 
Additions  in  and  about 
the  Prison  in  the  course 
of  the  year 

Repayment  of  Principal  or  Interest 
of  Money  Borrowed 

Grand  Total 

Daily  average  number  of  Prisoners . 


Gross  Cost 
per  Annum. 


a,    d. 


12,617  11 
1,665  n 


11,014    2    8 
1,476  14    8 

680  15    0 


956    6 
1,708  18 


0 
9 


30,067  18    1 


928  14    S 


80,996  12    8 


Average 
Prisoner 


Cost  per 
per  Ann. 


Coldbath 
Fields. 


&    a.  d. 


9    1 
1    4 


9i 
0 


7  18    %\ 
118 

0    9    1 


0  13    9 

1  4    7^ 


21  13    2i 


0  13    44 


22    6    7 


1,888 


All  other 

Prisons  in 

England 

and 
Wales. 


&  a.    d. 

6    4  11 
17    2 

10    7    6 

1  19    6 

0  13    9| 


0  12    9| 

1  1    9i 


21    7    52 

2    9    5 
2  12    93 


26    9    H 


Gross  oost  of  Prison,  per  head,  per  annum,  exclusive 
of  repairs  £21 


16,691 
13    2^ 


RECEIPTS  OF  PRISON  PER  ANNUM. 


Net  Profit  rMeired  for 
manufacturing  or 
other  Worlc  done  by 
the  Prisoners 

Estimated  Profit  of 
Work  or  Labour  done 
by  the  Prisoners  for 
tlie  benefit  of  the 
County,  City,  or  Bo- 
rough 


a.  d,     £     t.  d. 


2,056    7    7 


4,320  12    8 


Gross  Earnings  of  Prisoners  .  6,377    0 

Amount  received  for  Sabsisteneeof 
Military  and  Naval  Prisoners 

Amount  received  for  the  Support  of 
Vagrants.* 

Amount  received  from  Treasury  for 
Removal  of  Transports     . 

Amount  received  for  the  Subsist- 
enoe  of  Revenue  Prisoners 

Amount  charged  to  Treasury  for 
Maintenance  of  Prisoners  con- 
victed at  Assisses  and  Sessions, 
and  Weekly  Rate  per  head 

Other  Receipts 


62  13  0 

9  17  1 

81  10  9 

176  11  6 


9,609 
259 


2    0 
7  10 


Total 


£16,466    2    5 


Average  Earnings  of  each  Prisoner 
per  annum  .  .  . 

Ditto  on  all  Prisons  of  England  and 
Wales        .... 


4  U  10{ 
2    1    6 


*  This  is  money  found  in  ponscwion  of  Tsgrants 
while  begging,  and  ordert^l  by  the  commlttinir  I 
magistrate  to  go  towards  their  sapport  in  ' 
prison.  I 


NBTT  COST  OP  THE  PRISON   TO  THE   COtJNTY  FOR  THE  TEAR,   ETC. 

Total  Expenses  of  the  Prison  for  the  year,  not  including  Repairs,  Alterations,  and  Additions 
Total  Receipto  of  Ditto 


Oost  to  the  County,  City,  or  Borough,  not  inoluding  Repairs,  Alterations,  or  Additions 
Repairs,  Alterations,  and  Additions  during  the  year      .  ... 


£  «.  <l. 
30,067  18  1 
16,466    2     5 


13,601  IS 
928  14 


8 

3 


Total  Expenses  of  the  Prison  for  the  year,  including  Repairs,  Alterations,  and  Additions,  and 

excluding  Receipts       ..........    14,530    9  10 

Nett  eost  of  each  Prisoner,  at  Coldbath  Fields,  per  annum 

in  all  Prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  per  annum 

at  Goldbath  Fields,  per  diem    . 

in  all  Prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  per  diem 


If 


II 


11 


£10 

9 

4* 

18 

8 

Oi 

0 

0 

«l 

0 

1 

0 

Naw,  by  the  above  comparatiTe  table,  we  perceive  that  the  average  grou  oost  of  Coldbath  Fields 


HOUSE  OF  CORKECTIOK,  COLDBATH  FIELDS. 


351 


We  can  see  no  snre  remedy  for  these  dietary  evils,  but  by  the  introduction  into  prison 
management  of  the  principle  we  have  before  spoken  of — that  of  making  the  increased  com- 
fort of  the  prisoner  dependent  npon  his  own  labour.  Let  '*  punishment  diet"  be  the  only 
eleemosynary  allowance ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  give  each  class  of  criminals  alike  the  oppor- 
tmiily  of  adding  meat  to  their  meal,  by  making  the  luxury  contingent  upon  a  certain  quantity 
of  work  done.*  Let  such  a  task  be  the  price  of  so  much  food,  and  not  only  will  it  be  found 
to  act  as  a  premium  and  incentive  to  the  industrious,  but  it  will  have  the  still  more  beneficial 
effect  of  proving  to  those  who  least  understand  the  value  and  object  of  labour,  that  it  has  its 
rewards  and  consolations ;  and  that  the  same  strength  which  was  employed  and  failed  in 
breaking  open  a  door  or  forcing  a  lock  would,  if  devoted  to  more  honourable  pursuits,  be 

a  faction  less  than  the  average  for  all  the  other  priBons  of  England  and  Wales  -,  for,  though  the  average 
expense  of  the  diet  for  each  prisoner  is  nearly  as  much  as  75  per  oent.  tiwre  than  the  average  cost  per  prisoner 
for  all  England  and  Wales,  the  average  cost  of  management  (notwithstanding  the  exigencies  of  the  silent 
ijstem)  is  upwards  of  30  per  cent,  less,  whilst  the  cost  of  bedding,  as  well  as  of  lighting,  washing,  and  cooking, 
are  also  considerably  below  the  mean.  On  the  other  hand,  the  average  nett  annual  cost  of  each  prisoner  at  Cold- 
bath  Fields  is  as  much  as  75  per  cent,  less  than  the  average  nett  cost  for  all  other  prisons.  This  is  owing  partly 
to  the  earnings  of  the  prisoners  at  Coldbath  Fields  being  over-estimated  (see  ante,  p.  318),  so  that,  whilst  the 
aT^TBge  sum  annually  earned  by  each  prisoner  throughout  England  and  Wales  is  £2  Is.  5d.,  the  individual 
earnings  at  Coldbath  Fields  are  made  to  appear  as  high  as  £4  lis,  lO^d.  per  annum ;  but  it  is  principally  due 
to  the  fact,  that  the  sum  charged  to  the  Treasury  for  the  maintenance  of  prisoners  convicted  at  assises  and 
Kfsions  amounts  (at  4«.  per  head  per  week)  to  no  less  than  £9,500 ;  and,  as  this  is  very  nearly  one- third  of 
the  gross  cost  of  Coldbath  Fields  prison,  it  is  manifest  that  the  nett  cost  of  that  establishment  to  the  country 
must  fall  considerably  under  the  mean. 

*  Since  writing  the  preceding  article,  the  Nineteenth  Report  of  the  Inspectors  of  Prisons  has  been  pub- 
lished; and  as  thia  furnishes  us  with  the  means  of  comparing  the  proportion  of  punishments  at  the  Middlesex 
House  of  Coirection  with  that  of  all  other  prisons  throughout  England  and  Wales,  we  append  the  following 

table:— 


TABLB  COXPABINO  THE  HWBER  OF  PUNI8HMHNT8,  AS  WELL  AS  THEIB  PER  CENTAOE  TO  THE  OROB8  PEI80N 
POPULATION,  AT  COLDBATH  FIELDS  HOUSE  OF  OORRECTION,  WITH  THE  NUMBER  AND  PER  CENTAGE  AT 
ALL  OTHER  PRISONS  IN  ENGLAND  AND  WALES. 


'                                 PVNIBHMBXTS. 

1 

1 

I- . 

CoLDBATB  Fnuis,  1864-55. 
Gross  Prison  Population,  9,180. 

Pbisons  of  all  Enolakd  astd 
Walxs,  1853. 

Grose  Prison  Population, )  (w.  am 
Adult  Males.    .    .    !jw»,891. 

go. 
S 

No.  of 
puniihinentv. 

Per  oentagc  of 

punishments 

to  gross  prison 

populatiou. 

No.  of 
Punishments. 

Per  oentage  of 

puniflbmenta 

to  gross  prison 

population. 

1 

Placed  in  handcufTs  and  other  irons  .    . 
Whipped 

2 

5 

470 

8,546 

•02 

•05 

511 

9309 

70 

115 

9,743 

32,928 

•07 

•11 

10-05 

33-98 

—  -05 

—  -06 

—  4^93 
+59-20 

Confined  in  dark  and  solitary  cells    •    . 
Stoppage  of  diet  and  other  punishments 

Total    

9,023 

98-27 

42,856 

44-11 

+54-16 

Hence,  we  perceive  that  whilst  at  Coldhath  Fields  the  heavier  punishments,  such  as  handcuffs,  whip- 
ping, and  confinement  in  dark  or  solitary  cells,  are,  in  round  numhers,  5  per  cent,  less  than  at  other 
prisons,  tho  slighter  punishments  there,  such  as  stoppage  of  diet,  are,  within  a  fraction,  as  much  as  60  per 
cent,  more. 

It  is  but  just  to  add,  before  closing  this  article,  that  the  governor  of  Coldbath  Fields  prison  remonstrates 
against  the  opinion  given  (at  p.  336)  as  to  the  effects  of  the  *'  star  system ;"  and  it  would  certainly  appear, 
from  the  subjoined  return,  that  that  gentleman  is  right  and  ourselves  wrong.  It  is  due  to  our  own  judgment, 
however,  to  say,  that  our  ideas  on  the  subject  were  derived  from  communications  with  the  warders  of  the 
prison,  and  that  they  seem  to  have  formed  their  opinions  somewhat  too  hastily.  The  governor  says,  '*  I  deny 
that  the  worst  men  are  the  best-conducted  prisoners ;"  and  in  proof  of  the  statement,  he  furnishes  us  with  the 
25 


859 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


sure  to  succeed  in  gaining  an  honest  iind  reputable  existence ;  so  that,  T^hen  they  quit  prison, 
they  may  leave  it  intent  on  earning  their  own  Hving  for  the  future.* 


annexed  table,  showing  that  the  smallett  proportion  ^f  stars  (yiz.,  2 J  per  cent.)  is  obtained  by  the  old  "  jafl- 
birds,'*  and  the  greatttt  proportion  (58  per  cent)  gained  by  those  who  hare  neyer  been  in  prison  before  :— 

TABLB  8H0WIK0  THE  SBNTBNCXS  AND  NUMBER  OV  RH-GOmitTTALS   OP  THE  PRI80NEB8  OBTAINIMQ  "STABS" 

AT   COLDBATH   FIELDS    PRISON  : — 


Sentences. 

Men. 

Stars. 

Per 
oenuge. 

Sentences. 

Hen. 

stars. 

Per 
oentagr. 

mm 

(3  i 

II . 

Under  6  months  .     . 
6  and  under  12    .    . 
12  and  upwards  .    . 

Total.    .    .    . 

Under  S  months  .    . 
6  and  under  12    .    . 
12  and  upwards  .    . 

^       Total  .... 

7 

70 

103 

7 

81 
185 

58 

A       Under  6  months  .     . 
0  b 
S*§      6  and  under  12    .    . 

•S  J 

^  «    )  12  and  upwards  .    . 
5    I        Total.    .    .    . 

. 

7 

17 

•  • 

8 
86 

44 

9i 

180 

273 

24 

2 
26 
54 

2 

28 

101 

30 

In  prison  more 

than  twice 

before. 

Under  6  months  .    . 
6  and  under  12    .    . 
12  and  upwards    .    . 

^       Total.    .    .    . 

I 
1 
5 

1 
1 
9 

2} 

1 

82 

131 

7 

11 

Men. 
293 


Store. 
459 


Total  number  of  stars  worn  on  2nd  August,  1856 

HUMBBB  OP  8TAS8  PAID  TOE  ON  DI8CHAEQB,  PROH   ISTH  fUNB  TO   18tH  AUGUST,   1856  :— 

To  prisoners  sentenced  to  To  prisoners  sentenced  to  To  prisoners  senteooed  to 

less  than  six  months.  6  months  and  under  1 2.  13  months  and  upwards. 

Men.         Store.  Men.  Stars.  Men.  Stars. 

69  69  80  122  37  110 

No  account  as  to  former  imprisonments. 

K.B. — Bereral  men  sentenced  to  three  months  are  paid  for  stars  on  discharge,  if  they  have  not  been 

reported ;  but  these  never  wear  the  stars,  as  they  are  discharged  when  entitled  to  them. 

Against  such  arguments  it  is  impossible  to  say  a  word,  except  to  acknowledge  ourselTes  in  fault,  whidi 
we  do  most  readily.  The  governor  adds,  with  exemplary  consideration  for  those  under  his  care,  *'  In  many 
oases  I  think  it  advisable  to  reward  men  for  good  conduct,  and  to  give  prisoners,  on  discharge^  aome  chanoe 
of  looking  for  honest  emplojrment,  if  so  disposed." 

The  star  system  appears,  also,  to  be  beneficial  as  indueing  conformity  to  discipline  by  means  of  rcfvards, 
rather  than  wforcing  it  by  means  of  punishments.  The  only  txiemal  motives  to  human  oonduot  are  some 
such  rewards  and  punishments ;  both  lead  to  the  same  end,  but  the  one  attains  the  object  by  attraction  and 
the  other  by  repulsion.  As  in  a  magnet,  these  attractions  and  repulsions  (of  rewards  and  punishments)  srs 
the  two  forces  that  induce  motion,  in  human  beings,  in  a  given  direction.  Some  men,  it  must  be  admitted, 
require  deterrents  or  repellents  to  cause  them  to  act  as  we  wish ;  such  characters  seem  to  be  oonpantiTely 
deficient  in  the  attraetm  qualities  of  human  nature,  or,  in  other  words,  almost  incapable  of  being  moved  by 
•ome  prospective  good.  Kevertheless,  all  persons  are  assuredly  not  of  this  kind,  and  therefore  itan  snd 
good-oonduot  badgee  strike  us  as  being  excellent  methods  of  leading  men  to  comply  with  discipline,  and  thoie 
prison  rules  and  regulations  which  are  necessary  for  the  orderly  government  of  a  jail.  Hence  the  itsr 
system,  judiciously  appUed,  is  likely  to  prove  an  admirable  mode  of  reducing  the  amount  of  punishmenti  at 
Ooldbath  Fields  prison ;  and  no  one  would  rejoice  at  such  a  result  more  than  the  writer  of  this  artioie— 
unless,  indeed,  it  were  the  governor  himself. 

*  It  gives  us,  likewise,  great  pleasure  to  be  able  to  record  the  fisct  here,  that  onoe  writing  the  pnes&ig 
remarks  on  the  silent  system,  the  governor  of  Coldbath  Fields,  ever  ready  to  avail  himself  of  any  saggestioQ 
as  to  the  improvement  of  the  characters  of  those  under  his  charge,  has  tried  the  plan  of  reading  a2ou4  » 
proposed  (at  p.  835)  in  this  work,  and  we  are  happy  to  add,  In  the  words  of  the  governor  himselt^  '4t  answccs 
very  well."  With  commendable  prudence.  Captain  Colvill  made  the  experiment  first  in  the  smaller  work- 
rooms, saying  that  he  feared  **  it  would  lead  to  irregularity  where  many  were  together."  In  a  later  oomDU- 
nication  to  us,  however,  he  writes,  **  the  reading  aloud  seems  to  answer  very  well,  and  I  am  trying  it  with 
greater  numbers.  It  was  proposed  by  one  of  our  visiting  justices  some  time  back."  All  honouri  thsn,  te  the 
juttioe  for  the  proposal  of  inch  a  plan,  and  to  the  govemur  for  the  execution  of  it ! 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTION,  TOTHIIX  FIELDS. 


KNTRANCE  TO  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PBISOH. 


TEE  MIDDLESEX  SOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 
(FOB  FBHALB  AND  JUVKNILE  OFFENDERS.) 

There  is  no  quarter  of  'the  Uetropolis  impressed  with  snch  Btrongly-marked  featurcB  as 
the  episcopal  city  of  Weatminster.  We  do  not  speak  of  that  vague  and  stra^ling  electoral 
VestmiiiBter,  which  stretchea  as  far  as  Eensiogton  and  Chelsea  to  the  west,  and  even  Temple 
Bar  to  the  east ;  but  of  that  WestminBt«r  proper — that  triangular  snip  of  the  Metropolis 
vhich  is  bonnded  by  the  Vauxhall  Koad  on  one  side,  St.  James's  Park  on  another,  and 
bj  the  Thames  on  the  third — that  Westminster  which  can  boast  of  some  of  the  noblest  and 
some  of  the  meanest  buildings  to  be  found  thronghout  London  (the  grand  and  picturesque 
old  Abbey,  and  the  filthy  and  squalid  Duck  Lane — the  bran-new  and  ornate  Houses  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  the  half-dilapidated  and  dingy  old  Almonry) — which  is  the  seat  at  once  of  the  great 
mass  of  law-makers  and  law-breakers — where  there  are  more  almshouseB,  and  mote  prisons, 
sad  more  schools  (the  "  Oray-coat,"  the  "Blue-coat,"  the  "  Green- coat,"  and  the  more 
modem  "  Sagged,"  or  No-coat,  for  instance,  as  well  as  the  ancient  and  honourable  one  bearing 
the  name  of  the  city  itself) — more  old  noblemen's  mansions  and  more  costermongers'  hovels — 
more  narrow  lanes,  and  courts,  and  more  broad  anfinisbed  highways — whose  Hall  is  fire- 
ijuented  by  more  lawyers,  and  whose  purlieus  are  infested  by  more  thieves — whose  pnbUc- 
hooses  are  resorted  to  by  more  parlors — whose  streets  are  thronged  by  more  soldiers — on 
whose  door-stepa  sit  more  bare-headed  wantons — and  whose  dry  arches  shelter  more  vega- 


354  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

bond  urchinB  than  are  to  be  noted  in  any  other  part  of  the  Metropolis — ay,  and  perhaps  in 
any  other  part  of  the  world. 

*♦*  Of  the  oU  ''  SpitaU,''  Sanctmries,  and  '' Zokes,*'  and  the  modem  ''  Eook&riee:'— 
Yet  much  of  the  incongruous  character  of  modem  Westminster  may  be  traced  back  to  the 
peculiarities  of  the  ancient  city.  Parent  Du  Chatclet,  the  celebrated  French  statist,  has 
shown  that  the  Quartier  de  la  CiU  in  Paris,  which  is  now  the  headquarters  of  the  French 
thieves,  was  formerly  the  site  of  a  well-known  sanctuary ;  and  so  it  was  with  the  City  of 
Westminster  itself. 

"The  church  at  Westminster  hath  had,"  says  Stow,  "great  privilege  of  sanctuary 
within  the  precinct  thereof;  from  whence  it  hath  not  been  lawful  for  any  prince  or  other  to 
take  any  person  that  fled  thither  for  any  cause."  Edward  the  Confessor,  according  to  the  old 
London  historian,  g^nted  it  a  charter,  in  which  were  these  words: — **I  order  and  estab- 
lish for  ever,  that  what  person,  of  what  condition  or  estate  soever  he  be,  from  whence 
soever  he  come,  or  for  what  offence  or  cause  it  be,  whether  for  his  refrige  unto  the  said  holy 
church  (of  the  blessed  Apostle  of  St.  Peter,  at  Westminster),  he  be  assured  of  his  life,  liberty, 
and  limbs,  *  *  *  ♦  and  whosoever  presumes  or  doth  contrary  to  this  my  grant,  I  will 
hee  lose  his  name,  worship,  dignity,  and  power,  and  that  with  the  great  traytor,  Judas, 
that  betraied  our  Saviour,  he  be  in  the  everlasting  fire  of  hell." 

This  sanctuary.  Stow  tells  us,  extended  to  the  church,  churchyard,  and  close.  ''  At 
the  entrance  of  the  close,"  he  says,  in  another  part,  ''there  is  a  lane  that  leadeth  towards 
the  west,  called  *  Thieving  Lane,' "  (this  is  now  styled  Princes  Street,  and  runs  from  Storey's 
Gate  to  the  open  space  which  is  in  front  of  the  Abbey,  and  still  bears  the  name  of  the 
Sanctuary);  ''for  that  thieves,"  he  adds,  "were  led  that  way  to  the  gate-house  while  the 
Sanctuary  continued  in  force."* 

*  Under  the  dominion  of  the  Normans  there  appear  to  have  existed  two  kinds  of  sanctuary,  or  places  of 
protection  to  criminals  and  debtors  from  arrest — one  general^  which  belongs  to  every  church — the  other 
pfeuHoTf  which  originated  in  a  grant,  by  charter,  from  the  king. 

The  general  sanctaary  afforded  a  reKige  to  those  only  who  had  been  guilty  of  capital  felonies.  On  reaching 
it,  the  felon  was  bound  to  declare  that  he  had  committed  felony,  and  came  to  save  his  life.  By  the  common 
law  of  England,  if  a  person,  guilty  of  felony  (excepting  sacrilege),  fled  to  a  parish  church  or  churchyard  for 
sanctuary,  he  might,  within  forty  days  afterwards,  go  clothed  in  sackcloth  before  the  ooroner,  confess  the  iiili 
particulars  of  his  guilt,  and  take  an  oath  to  abjure  the  kingdom  for  oyer — swearing  not  to  return  unlets  the 
king's  license  were  granted  him  to  do  so.  Upon  making  his  confession  and  taking  his  oath,  he  became 
attainted  of  the  felony ;  he  had  forty  days,  from  the  day  of  his  appearance  before  the  coroner,  allowed  him  to 
prepare  for  his  departure,  and  the  coroner  assigned  him  such  port  as  he  chose  for  his  embarkation,  whither 
the  felon  was  bound  to  repair  immediately,  with  a  cross  in  his  hand,  and  to  embark  with  all  oonyenieni 
speed.  If  he  did  not  go  directly  out  of  the  kingdom,  or  if  he  afterwards  returned  into  England,  without 
license,  he  was  condemned  to  be  hanged,  unless  he  happened  to  be  a  clerk,  in  which  case  he  was  allowed  the 
benefit  of  clergy. 

Il  peculiar  sanctuary  might  (if  such  priyilege  were  granted  by  the  king's  charter)  afford  a  place  of  reliige 
even  to  those  who  had  committed  high  or  petty  treason ;  and  a  person  escaping  thither  might,  if  he  chose, 
remain  undisturbed  for  life.  He  still,  however,  had  the  option  of  taking  the  oath  of  abjuration,  and  quitting 
the  realm  for  oyer. 

Sanctuary,  howeyer,  seems  in  neither  case  to  haye  been  allowed  as  a  protection  to  those  who  escaped 
from  the  sheriff  after  haying  been  deliyered  to  him  for  execution. 

"  The  right  of  sanctuary,"  says  Mr.  Timbs,  "  was  retained  by  Westnunster  after  the  dissolution  of  the 
monasteries,  &o.,  in  1640.  Sanctuary  men  were  allowed  to  use  a  whittie  only  at  their  meals,  and  oompelled 
to  wear  a  badge.  They  could  not  leaye  the  precinot,  without  the  Dean's  license,  between  sunset  and 
sunrise."  In  the  We&tmioster  Sanctuary  were  two  cruciform  churches,  built  one  aboye  the  other,  and  the 
lower  one  in  the  form  of  a  double  cross ;  the  upper  one  is  supposed,  by  Dr.  Walcott,  to  haye  been  for  debton 
and  the  inhabitants  of  the  Broad  and  LitUe  Sanctuaries,  whilst  the  lower  one  is  said  to  haye  been  appropri- 
ated to  criminals.  The  privilege  of  sanctuary  caused  the  houses  within  the  precinct  to  let  for  high  rents ; 
but  this  privilege  was  totally  abolished  in  1623,  by  James  I.,  though  the  bulk  of  the  houses  which  conposed 
the  precinct  was  not  taken  down  till  1750.     To  the  Westminster  Sanctoaryi  Judge  TreciUaa  (Im^ 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  365 

It  is  well  known  that  thero  were  formerly  many  other  such  sanctuaries,  or  ''privileged 
places/'  throughout  London.  From  Edward  the  Confessor's  time  to  the  Reformation  (a 
period  of  ahout  five  hundred  years),  any  place  or  building  that  was  consecrated  by  the  clergy 
for  religious  uses,  served  to  screen  offenders  from  the  justice  of  the  law  and  the  sentence 
passed  upon  them  for  their  crimes.  There  were  likewise  several  privileged  places,  in  which 
persons  were  secure  from  arrest.  These  were  principally  the  old  Mint,  in  Southwark ;  the 
Minories,  and  St.  Katharine's  Hospital,  about  the  Docks ;  Fulwood's  Rents,  and  Baldwin's 
Gardens,  in  Gray's  Inn  Lane ;  and  WhiteMars  (vulgarly  caUed  Akatta),  between  Fleet 
Street  and  the  Thames.^ 

Now,  with  the  exception  of  WhiteMars,  the  old  sanctuaries  and  privileged  places  con- 
tinne  to  this  day  to  be  the  principal  nests  of  the  London  beggars,  prostitutes,  and  thieves. 
Tnie  there  are  other  quarters,  such  as  St.  Ctiles  and  the  purlieus  of  Brick  Lane,  Spitalfields, 
that  are  infested  by  a  like  ragged,  vnretched,  and  reckless  population;  but  these  will  be 
£)imd  to  have  been  originally  the  sites  of  hospitals,  either  for  the  poor  or  the  diseased.f 

The  two  largest  of  the  old  leper  hospitals  in  London,  for  instance,  were  those  of  St.  James, 
Westminster,  and  St.  Giles-in-the-Fields.  There  was  also  a  celebrated  *'  Zoke,**  or  leper 
hospital,  in  Kent  Street,  in  the  Borough,  and  this  is  now  one  of  the  worst  districts  in  the 
Metropolis;  whilst  Spitalfields  was  the  site  of  an  ancient  almshouse. | 

fiichird  n.)  fled  for  refuge;  but  was  dragged  thence  to  Tyburn,  and  there  hanged.  In  1460,  Lord  Scales,  as 
be  was  seeking  sanctuary  at  Westminster,  was  murdered  on  the  Thames.  Elizabeth  Woodville,  queen  of 
Edward  IV.,  escaped  from  the  Tower,  and  registered  herself  and  her  family  '*  Sanctuary  women,"  and  here 
"  in  great  penury,  forsaken  of  all  friends,"  she  gave  birth  to  Edward  V.,  "  bom  in  sorrow,  and  baptized 
like  a  poor  man's  child."  She  is  described  by  More,  as  sitting  **  alow  on  the  rushes"  in  her  grief.  Here, 
too,  Skelton,  the  satirist,  found  shelter  from  the  reyengeful  hand  of  Cardinal  Wolsey.  One  Robert  Hawley, 
Esqoire,  moreoyer,  escaped  from  the  Tower,  and  took  Sanctuary  at  Westminster ;  whereupon  the  Tower 
Constable,  Sir  Alan  Boxhull,  followed  him  to  the  church,  and  killed  him  in  the  choir,  at  the  time  of  high 
mass  (11th  August,  1378).  After  this  the  church  was  closed  for  four  months,  and  Boxhull  and  his  followers 
excommunicated. 

*  The  Southwark  Mint  was,  perhaps,  the  most  notorious  of  all  the  London  places  of  refuge.  It  became, 
we  are  told,  early  an  asylum  for  debtors,  coiners,  and  vagabonds,  as  well  as  for  '*  traitors,  felons,  fugitiyes, 
outlaws,  &c.,  together  with  such  as  refused  the  law  of  the  land."  It  was  one  of  the  haunts  of  Jack 
Sheppard,  and  Jonathan  Wild  kept  his  horses  at  the  Duke's  Head,  in  Bed  Cross  Street.  Indeed,  the  Mint 
at  length  got  to  be  such  a  pest,  that  special  statutes  (8th  and  9th  of  William  III.,  and  9th  and  11th 
George  I.)  wero  passed,  ordering  the  abolition  of  its  priyUeges ;  and  one  of  these  acts  relieyed  all  debtors 
who  had  taken  sanctuary  in  the  Mint  from  their  creditors,  provided  the  claims  against  them  were  under  £50. 
The  exodus  of  the  refugee-felons  and  debtors,  in  July,  1723,  after  the  passing  of  the  9th  of  Greorge  I.,  is 
described  as  haying  been  like  one  of  the  Jewish  tribes  going  out  of  Egypt,  for  the  train  of  *'  ACinters  "  is 
laid  to  have  included  some  thousands  in  its  ranks,  and  the  road  towards  Guildford  (whither  they  were 
journeying  to  be  cleared  at  the  Quarter  Sessions,  of  their  debts  and  penalties)  to  have  been  positively 
ooTcied  with  the  cavalcade  of  caravans,  carts,  horsemen,  and  foot-travellers. —  Weekly  Journal^  Saturday, 
Jv^  20, 1723. 

In  1442,  the  district  of  the  hospital  of  '*  St.  Katharine's,  at  the  Tower,"  was  made  a  royal  precinct,  and 
no  one  could  be  arrested  there  for  debt,  except  by  an  order  from  the  Board  of  Green  Cloth. — Timh^  London. 

Mr.  Cunningham  also  tells  us,  **  that  the  privileges  of  sanctuary,  which  continued  to  the  precinct  of 
Whitefziars  after  the  dissolution,  were  confirmed  and  enlarged,  in  1608,  by  Boyal  Charter?  Fraudulent 
debtars,  prostitutes,  and  other  outcasts  of  society,  made  it  a  favourite  retreat.  Here  they  formed  a  community 
of  their  own,  adopted  the  language  of  pickpockets,  openly  resisted  the  execution  of  any  legal  process,  and, 
extending  their  cant  terms  to  the  place  they  lived  in,  new-named  their  precinct  by  the  well-known  appella- 
tion of  ^M<»a." 

t  "  A  hospital,  or  *  *spiialf*  signified  a  charitable  institution  for  the  advantage  of  poor,  infirm,  and  aged 
persons — an  almshouse  in  short ;  while  '  tpiUlee*  were  mere  lazar-houses,  receptacles  fur  wretches  in  the 
leprosy  and  other  diseases — ^the  consequence  of  debauchery  and  Yice"'^Oifford :  Ndie  to  Mamngei's  Workt, 

X  St.  Giles,  we  are  told,  was  so  named  after  an  hospital  for  lepers  that  was  dedicated  to  the  saint,  and 
built  on  the  site  of  a  small  church  upon  the  ground  occupied  by  the  present  edifice — the  gardens  and  pre- 
cincts extending  between  High  Street  and  Crown  Street  and  west  of  Meux's  brewery.    This  was  founded 


866  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

It  would  appear,  then,  that  the  seyeral  '' rookeries/'  or  vagabond  colonies  distributed 
throughout  the  Metropolis,  were  originally  the  sites  either  of  some  sanctuary,  or  refiige  for 
felons  and  debtors,  or  else  of  some  "  spital "  or  **  loke"  for  the  reception  of  the  poor,  the 
impotent,  or  the  leprous ;  and  that  the  districts  in  which  such  asylums  were  situate  thus 
came  to  be  each  the  nucleus  or  ntdus  of  a  dense  criminal  and  pauper  population.  For  as 
the  felon  of  the  present  day  is  at  times  foimd  among  the  partakers  of  the  eleemosynary 
hospitality  of  the  '^  casual  ward,"  and  the  vagrant  often  numbered  among  the  in-door 
patients  of  our  hospitals  for  the  sick,  so  is  it  probable  that  the  ancient  ''  sanctuary-men" 
occasionally  mixed  with  the  diseased  congregation  crowded  around  some  old  metropolitan 
'*  loke,"  or  else  formed  one  of  the  horde  of  beggars  that  swarmed  about  the  precincts  of  the 
obsolete  religious  houses  and  spitals.  Hence  aroimd  each  such  sacred  spot  a  heterogeneous 
outcast  tribe  got  to  be  gathered,  and  these  doubtlessly  were  left  to  dwell  and  interconunune 
alone,  shunned,  as  they  must  have  been,  by  all  decent  people,  either  for  their  crimes^  their 
maladies,  or  their  filth  and  squalor. 

But  not  only  must  such  a  refuse  race  have  intercommuned  apart  from  the  rest  of  London 
society,  and  each  individual  thus  have  tended  to  render  his  neighbours  worse  than  they  were 
by  nature  or  habit,  but  they  would  have  interbred  with  the  lowest  class  of  women,*  imd  so 
have  served  to  render  every  one  of  the  old  ''  religious "  haunts  positive  nests  of  vice, 
misery,  and  disease — hatching  felons,  lepers,  and  mendicants,  like  vipers  in  a  muck-heap. 

Surely,  if  it  be  possible  to  procreate  gout,  consumption,  and  insanity — ^if  these  subtle 
derangements  of  the  human  constitution  are  capable  of  being  spawned  from  &ther  to 
child,  it  is  far  from  improbable  that  an  outcast  race,  such  as  that  which  must  have  been 

at  the  beginning  of  the  twelfth  century,  by  Matilda,  qneen  of  Henry  I. ;  and  Henry  YIII.,  soon  alter  the 
diBsolution  of  religious  houses,  converted  the  chapel  of  the  hospital  into  a  parish  church,  of  the  name  of  St. 
Oiles'-in-the-Fields.  ** Edward  III.,'*  says  a  document  quoted  by  Stow,  "sent  commandement  that  all 
leprous  persons  within  the  saide  citie  and  suburbes  should  ayoid,  within  fifteen  dales,  and  no  man  suflEer  any 
such  leprose  person  to  abide  within  his  house,  upon  palne  to  forfeit  his  saide  house,  and  to  incurro  the  kinge's 
further  displeasure.  And  that  the  sherifis  should  cause  the  said  lepers  to  be  remoyed  into  some  oui  plaetB  of 
thiJieldeSf  from  the  haunt  and  company  of  all  sound  people ;  whereupon  it  followed  that  the  citizens  required 
of  the  guardian  of  St.  Giles'  Hospital,  to  take  from  them,  and  to  keep  continually  the  number  of  fourteene 
persons,  according  to  the  foundation  of  MathUde  the  queen." 

About  the  year  1413  the  gallows  was  remoyed  from  the  Elms  in  Smithfield  to  the  north  end  of  the  garden 
wall  of  St.  Olios'  Hospital ;  and,  when  the  gallows  was  again  remoyed  to  Tyburn,  "  St.  Oiles*  be^me,*' 
says  Mr.  Timbs,  **  a  sort  of  half-way  house  for  condemned  criminals,"  owing  to  the  custom  of  glying  a  bowl 
of  ale,  at  the  hospital  gate,  to  eyery  malefactor  on  his  way  to  execution — a  practice  which  was  afterwards 
continued,  we  are  told,  at  an  '*  hostel "  buUt  upon  the  site  of  the  monastic  house,  and  which  seryed  to  giye 
a  moral  taint  to  the  neighbourhood.  In  the  time  of  the  Puritans,  St.  Giles*  was  a  refuge  for  the  peiveeuted 
tipplers  and  ragamuffins  of  London  and  Westminster.  St.  Giles*  was  first  colonized  by  the  Irish  immigrants 
in  the  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

Spitalfields,  on  the  other  hand,  was  named  from  its  haying  been  the  site  and  property  of  the  priory  and 
hospital  of  St.  Mary  Spittle,  Without  Bishopgato,  and  founded,  1197,  by  Walter  Brune,  citizen  of  London, 
and  Bosia  his  wife,  for  Augustine  canons.  At  the  dissolution  of  religious  houses,  in  1634,  it  had  130  beds 
for  the  receipt  of  the  poor  of  this  charity. 

*  Such  women  had  generally  a  special  district  set  apart  for  them  in  the  olden  times,  and  this  was  mostly 
near  some  "  priyileged  place."  '*  Next  on  this  bank,"  says  Stow,  speaking  of  Bankside  at  Southwark, 
"  was  some  time  the  Bwdello^  or  Stewes,  a  place  so  called  of  certain  stew-houses,  priyileged  there  for  the 
repair  of  incontinent  men  to  the  like  incontinent  women.  I  find,"  he  adds,  "  that,  in  the  4th  of  Bichard  IL, 
these  stew-houses  belonged  to  William  Walworth,  then  Lord  Mayor  of  London,  and  were  fumed  hjfiot* 
(fraut)  of  Flanders;  but  were  spoiled  by  Wat  Tyler  and  other  rebels  of  Kent  *  •  •  These  allowed  stew- 
houses,"  he  further  tells  us,  "  had  signs  on  their  fronts  towards  the  Thames—not  hanged  out,  bat  painted 
on  the  walls— as  '  the  Boar's  Head,'  *  the  Cross  Keys,'  <  the  Gun,'  <  the  Castle,'  'the  Crane,'  <  the  GaidinaTs 
Hat ! '  *  the  Bell,'  *  the  Swan,'  &c  1  haye  heard  ancient  men  of  good  credit  report,  that  these  single  wonen 
were  forbidden  the  rites  of  the  Church  so  long  as  they  continued  their  sinful  life,  and  were  excluded  Irora 
Christian  burial,  if  they  were  not  reconciled  before  their  death.  Therefore  there  was  a  plot  of  groo&d,  called 
'the  single  women's  churchyard,'  appointed  for  them,  far  from  the  parish  church." 


GIKLS*  BOHOOL  AT  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PRISOK. 


e  EXBRCISINO  AT  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PHISOIt. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  857 

bnddled  round  the  sites  of  the  aacient  London  sanctuaries  and  hospitals,  should  beget 
natures  like  their  own— deficient  alike  in  moral  and  physical  energy,  and  therefore  not 
only  ayeise  to  the  drudgery  of  regular  labour,  but  incapable  of  that  continued  tension 
of  the  will  which  men  call  moral  purpose  or  principle.  If  Jews  engender  Jews,  with 
minds  and  characters  almost  as  Hebraic  as  their  noses — ^if  gipsy  blood  have  a  tendency 
to  induce  a  propensity  for  gipsy  habits — ^if,  in  fine,  there  be  the  least  truth  in  ethnology, 
or,  indeed,  in  the  principles  which  regulate  improvements  in  the  breeding  merely  of 
*'  stock,"  then  assuredly  must  there  be  a  greater  chance  of  habitual  thieves  and  beggars 
batting  kindred  natures  to  their  own,  rather  than  the  opposite.  Accordingly,  ethnic  crime 
and  pauperism  would  appear,  not  only  to  be  consistent  with  the  ordinary  laws  of  human 
life,  but  to  be  as  natural  as  hereditary  insanity,  to  which,  indeed,  it  seems  to  bear  a  faint 
similitade;  for,  as  in  cases  of  mental  disease,  the  fiiculty  of  attention  is  well  known  to  be  the 
first  to  exhibit  symptoms  of  derangement,  so  the  temperament  of  the  habitual  criminal  is 
inyaiiably  marked  by  a  comparative  incapability  of  continuous  application  to  any  one  subject 
or  pursuit,  whilst  the  same  bodily  restlessness  as  characterises  the  lunatic,  is  also  the  distinc- 
tive type  of  the  vagrant.* 

The  old  sanctuaries  and  spitals,  or  places  of  refiige  and  shelter,  continued  in  fuU  force 
until  the  dissolution  of  the  religious  houses,  which  took  place  principally  between  1534 — 9, 
and  at  the  same  period  several  statutes  (26th,  27th,  and  8  7th  Henry  YIII.)  were  passed, 
regulating,  limiting,  and  partially  abolishing  the  privilege  of  refuge.f  This  change,  history 
teUfl  us,  was  followed  by  what  has  been  termed  the  *^  age  of  beggars  and  thieves;"  for, 
though  we  have  no  definite  account  as  to  the  numbers  of  outcasts  and  mendicants  harboured 
by  the  religious  houses  in  the  olden  time,  nevertheless  the  statements  as  to  the  proportion 
of  beggars  and  priests,  to  the  rest  of  the  population,  in  the  foreign  episcopal  cities,  at  the 
period  of  their  dissolution  by  the  French  army  under  the  Revolution,  will  give  us  some 
notion  as  to  the  hordes  of  paupers  and  criminals  that  must  have  formerly  been  maintained 
among  us  under  such  a  system.;]; 

When,  therefore,  the  parasitical  multitudes  infesting  the  neighbourhood  of  the  old  abbeys 
and  monasteries,  &c.,  came  to  be  deprived  of  their  ordinary  means  of  subsistence,  by  the 
stoppage  of  the  alms,  in  consequence  of  the  dissolution  of  the  institutions  upon  which  they 

*  These  criminal  or  mendicant  raeea  are  by  no  means  peculiar  to  our  own  country.  According  to  Dr. 
Andrew  Smith's  observations  in  South  AMca,  almost  every  tribe  of  people  there  who  have  submitted  them- 
selves to  social  laws,  and  recognised  the  rights  of  property  and  the  reciprocal  moral  duties  of  a  civilized  caste, 
are  Burrounded  by  hordes  of  vagabonds  and  outcasts  from  their  own  community.  Such  are  the  Bushmen  and 
the  "  Sonquas"  of  the  Hottentot  race — ^the  term  Sanqua  meaning,  literally,  pauper.  The  Kafirs,  again,  have 
their  Bushmen  as  well  as  the  Hottentots,  and  these  are  called  ^^Fingoes" — ^a  word  signifying  beggars,  wan- 
dereri,  or  outcasts.  The  Lappes,  moreover,  seem  to  have  borne  a  somewhat  similar  relation  to  the  Finns  ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  appear  to  have  been  a  wild  and  predatory  tribe,  who  sought  the  desert,  like  the  Arabian 
Bedouins,  whilst  the  Finns  cultivated  the  soil  like  the  more  industrious  Fellahs.  Further,  such  outcast  para- 
sitical tribes  are  distinguished  by  certain  characteristics,  which  not  only  belong  to  them  generally,  but  also 
agree  with  the  propensities  of  our  own  vagrant  and  thievish  population ;  viz.,  a  repugnance  to  regular  and 
GontinuouB  labour — a  want  of  providence  in  la3ring  up  stores  for  their  future  sustenance — the  adoption  of  a 
secret  language  as  a  means  of  disguising  their  designs — a  love  of  gambling  and  delight  in  all  kinds  of  perilous 
adventures — a  high  admiration  of  brute  courage,  or  "pluck,"  as  it  is  called,  and  tricks  of  low  cunning — 
as  well  as  a  special  delight  in  "  sports  "  which  consist  principally  in  watching  the  sufferings  of  sentient 
creatures. 

t  It  was  not  until  the  21st  of  James  I.  that  such  places  were  wholly  forbidden.  The  28th  cap.  and  7th 
sect  of  that  Act  ordains,  that  no  sanctuary  or  privilege  of  sanctuary  shall  thereafter  be  admitted  or  allowed 
in  any  case. 

X  Cologne,  at  the  time  of  the  occupation  of  the  "  holy  city*'  by  the  French,  at  the  end  of  the  last  cen<- 
tmy,  contained  no  less  than  1,200  beggars,  and  2,500  ecclesiastics,  out  of  a  population  of  90,000  and  odd 
inhabitants;  so  that  about  one-twenty-fifth  part  of  the  entire  people  consiBted  of  priests  and  mendicant8| 
or  not  leas  than  one-twentieth  if  children  be  excluded  from  the  calculation. 


868  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOITOOIT- 

depended,  it  is  eyident  that  society  must  have  liad  to  deal  with  a  moral  pestilence,  sncli  as 
we  in  these  days  can  hardly  conceive.    The  statutes  that  were  framed  at  this  period,  how- 
ever, against  vagrants  and  persons  ''whole  and  mighty  in  body,"  who  refused  to  work  ''for 
such  reasonable  wage  as  was  commonly  given,"  may  be  cited  as  instances  of  the  state  of  the 
country  after  the  abolition  of  the  old  religious  houses  and  privileges.    The  27th  Henry  YIII., 
cap.  25  (a.  n.  1536),  orders,  that  a  "sturdy  beggar  is  to  be  whipped  the  first  time  he  is 
detected  in  begging ;  that  he  is  to  have  his  right  ear  cropped  for  the  second  ojSence ;  and,  if 
again  found  guilty  of  begging,  he  is  to  be  indicted  for  wandering,  loitering,  and  idleness, 
and,  when  convicted,  to  suffer  execution  of  death  as  a  felon  and  on  enemy  to  the  common- 
wealth."   This  Act,  however,  being  found  ineffectual  from  over-severily,  another,  which 
was  considered  more  lenient,  was  passed  in  1547  (1st  Edward  YI.,  cap.  8);  and,  according 
to  that,  every  able-bodied  person  who  did  not  apply  himself  to  some  honest  labour  was  to 
be  taken  for  a  vagabond,  branded  on  the  shoulder,  and  adjudged  as  a  slave  for  two  years  to 
any  one  who  should  demand  him ;  and,  if  not  demanded  by  any  one  as  a  slave,  he  was  to 
be  kept  to  hard  labour  on  the  highway  in  chains.    During  this  time  he  was  to  be  fed  on 
bread  and  water  and  refuse  meat,  and  made  to  work  by  being  beaten.    If  he  ran  away  in 
the  course  of  his  two  years'  slavery,  he  was  to  be  branded  on  the  cheek,  and  adjudged  a 
slave  for  life;  and  if  he  ran  away  a  second  time,  he  was  to  suffer  death  as  a  felon.    Still, 
this  statute  seems  to  have  been  almost  as  useless  as  the  one  it  repealed,  and  accordingly, 
twenty-five  years  afterwards,  another  Act  was  passed  (14th  Elizabeth,  cap.  5,  ▲.!>.  1572), 
wherein  it  was  declared,  that  all  persons  able  to  labour,  and  "not  having  any  land  or 
master,  nor  using  any  lawfril  craft  or  mystery,"  and  who  should  refuse  to  work,  should, 
"  for  the  first  offence,  be  grievously  whipped  and  burned  through  the  gristle  of  the  right 
ear,  with  a  hot  iron  of  the  compass  of  an  inch  about;"  for  the  second,  such  parties  should 
be  deemed  felons ;  and  for  the  third,  they  should  suffer  death  as  felons,  without  the  benefit  of 
clergy.    Twenty  odd  years  again  elapsed,  and  then  the  39th  of  Elizabeth,  caps.  3  and  4,  was 
enacted,  ordaining  that  every  able-bodied  person  that  refused  to  work  for  ordinary  wages, 
was  to  be  "  openly  whipped  until  his  body  was  bloody,  and  forthwith  sent,  from  parish  to 
parish,  the  most  straight  way  to  the  parish  where  he  was  bom,  there  to  put  himself  to  work 
as  a  true  subject  ought  to  do."    Three  years  subsequent  to  this  again  these  terrible  laws  weie 
changed  for  the  kindlier  4drd  Elizabeth,  cap.  2,  which  instituted,  for  the  first  time,  work- 
houses for  the  poor,  and  ordered  the  overseers  to  raise  sums  for  providing  materials  "  to  set 
the  poor  on  work,"  and  also  for  the  relief  of  lame,  blind,  old,  and  impotent  persons. 

It  is  manifest,  however,  that  such  asylums  could  have  given  shelter  and  employment 
only  to  the  honest  poor,  and  that  the  habitual  mendicant  and  thief,  who  loved  to  "  shake  a 
free  leg,"  as  it  is  called  by  the  fraternity,  and  who  preferred  cadging  and  pilfering  to  industry, 
would  have  looked  upon  such  institutions  as  little  better  than  prisons,  and  doubtlessly  hare 
confounded  them  with  the  houses  of  correction  that  were  originally  associated  with  every 
workhouse  throughout  the  kingdom. 

It  was  but  natural,  therefore,  that  the  sites  of  the  old  sanctuaries,  and  spitals,  and  lokes 
should  have  remained — ^long  after  the  dissolution  of  the  institutions  which  originally  caused 
the  crowd  of  thieves,  lepers,  and  beggars  to  locate  themselves  in  such  quarters — ^as  the 
principal  abiding  places  of  the  "  pariah"  population  throughout  the  metropolis,  and,  indeed, 
the  country  in  general ;  for  not  only  would  habit  induce  such  people  to  continue  in  the  same 
place  (and  the  well-to-do  are  mostly  unaware  how  difficult  it  is  to  dislodge  the  poor  from 
their  old  dwellings,  even  though  they  be  filthy  and  tumble-down  to  the  last  degree),  but, 
owing  to  the  old  "privileged"  localities  being  shunned  by  all  honest  and  decent  people, 
they  would  there  be  sure  at  once  of  meeting  with  their  "  old  pals,"  and  of  getting  quit  of 
the  company  of  all  uncongenial  characters. 


HOXrsE  OF  CORBECIIOlf,  TOTHILL  HEIDS. 


BlBiyB-EYE  VIEW  07  TOTHILI.  FIELDS  FKiSON  (SEEN  FEOU  THE  SACK). 

H  ii-"- 
7%t  Sutory,  Character,  and  DUeiplin*  o/the  Priton. 

Tolhill  Pields  Prison  (or  Brideirell,  as  it  was  originally  called)  Btands  on  one  of  those 
Cockney  champagne  districts — like  Moorjiriii,  Spitol^Mi,  Spa/Mi2t,  Goodman' b-^^,  Lock'e- 
jlddt,  Lincoln's  Inn  field*,  St.  Qileii'-in-tlie-JV*^^,  &c. — which  have  long  since  become  a 
dense  mass  of  bricks  and  mortar,  veined  with  streets  and  alleys,  and  of  which  every  patch  of 
green  sward  has  been  for  so  many  years  covered  over  by  the  spreading  red  walls  and  paving- 
stones  of  the  Uetropolis,  that  even  "  tlie  oldest  inhabitant,"  or  the  most  ancient  chronicle, 
cannot  tell  ns  where  originally  stood  the  celebrated  hilli  and  plaitu  whose  double  existence 
is,  in  the  present  case,  recorded  in  the  name  of  tlie  Westminster  prison.  IVbo  can  point  ont 
to  ns  now  the  famons  hill  that  once  njoiced  in  tlie  proud  name  of  "Tot" — now,  that  no 
acclivity,  with  so  heavy  a  "  gradient "  (to  use  a  term  that  sprang  up  with  the  introduction 
of  railways)  even  as  that  of  the  far-Euned  steep  of  Ludgate,  is  to  be  found  for  many  parishes 
round — ^not  even  from  the  united  "  seas,"  as  a  magisterial  friend  calls  them,  of  "  Chel-" 
and  "  Batter-,"  down  to  the  combined  "  Mars,"  "  "White  "  as  well  as  "  Black." 

"If  a  place  could  ejost,"  wrote  Jeremy  Bentham,  in  1798,  "  of  which  it  could  be  said 
that  it  was  in  no  neighbourhood,  that  place  would  be  TothUI  Fields." 

Kr.  Peter  Cunningham,  however,  tells  us  that  "  Tothill  Pields,  particnlarly  bo  called, 
comprised  that  (triangular)  portion  of  land  between  Tothill  Street,  Pimlioo,  and  the  river 
Thames — an  uncertain  boundary,"  he  adds,  "  but  the  best  that  can  be  given."* 

•  "TolliiU  Field*,"  M.y«Wyk«li»io  Atoher,  IbsMtistBnd  ■ntiquari«n,'in  his  "TeitJgM  of  Old  London," 
'iren,  vitbin  three  centnriee,  part  of  a  nisnhj  tract  of  land  lying  betireeil  MUlbank  aad  WntminalcT 
Abbe;,  and  on  which  stood  a  (ew  scattered  buildings,  some  of  them  being  the  reiidencei  of  noble  personagei ." 
("  HiUbank  was  lo  called,"  he  adds  in  a  note,  "  from  a  mill  which  occupied  the  site  of  the  old  Peterborough 
House."  Peterborough  House  vas  pulled  down  in  1809.  It  stood  at  the  end  of  the  present  College  Street, 
There  ire*  formerly  the  Abbey  Water  Mill,  built  by  one  Nicholas  Littlington.)  "  From  the  west  gate" — (of 
the  old  pslace  >t  Westminster,  and  vhiob  gate  formerly  itaod  st  the  entrSDce  to  Dean's  Yard) — "  runneth 
along  Tothill  Street,"  says  Slow.  "  Herein  is  a  house  of  ths  Lord  Gray  of  Wilton,  and  on  the  other  «ide^ 
tOtalrfMo  ZbtAitf  J'mA^  Stourton  HouiS)  vhich  Qyles,  tlte  lut  Lord I}a)iie  of  ths  South,  paKhued  and 


360  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOliTDON. 

The  origin  of  "  TothiU/'  according  to  the  same  author,  is  "  the  Toot-hill,  or  the  Beacon 
Field;"  (Welsh  twt,  a  spring  or  rising),  for  not  only  does  an  ancient  lease,  he  assures  us,  so 
style  a  "  close  "  in  this  neighhourhood,  but  "  there  is  a  place  of  the  same  name  near 
Caernarvon  Castle  also  called  **  The  Beacon  Hill ; "  so  that,  it  is  suggested,  the  metropolitan 
district  now  bearing  that  title  was  probably,  in  former  times,  the  highest  level  in  West- 
minster suitable  for  a  beacon.* 

These  fields,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  III.  (1216 — 1272)  formed  part  of  a  manor  in  West- 
minster, belonging  to  John  Mansell,  "the  king's  councillor  and  priest,"  says  Stow,  "who 
did  invite  to  a  stately  dinner  (at  his  house  at  Totehill)  the  kings  and  queens  of  England  and 
Scotland,  with  divers  coiurtiers  and  citizens,  and  whereof  there  was  such  a  multitude  that 
seven,  hundred  messes  of  meat  did  not  serve  for  the  first  dinner."  By  an  act  passed  in  the 
same  reign,  34  Henry  III.,  the  Abbot  of  Westminster  was  given  "leave  to  keepe  a  markett 
in  the  Tuthill  every  Munday,  and  a  faire  every  yeare,  for  three  days."  Two  centuries  after- 
wards, the  fields  in  the  neighbourhood  were  used  for  appeals  by  combat;  and  Stow  describes 
"a  combate  that  was  appointed  to  have  been  fought,"  the  18th  of  June,  "in Trinity  Tearme, 
1571,"  for  a  "certain  manour  or  demaine  lands,"  in  the  Isle  of  Harty,  "adjoining  to  the 
Isle  of  Sheppey,  in  Kent,"  and  for  which  "it  was  thought  good,"  says  the  hiBtorian,  that 
"the  court  should  sit  in  Tuthill  Fields,  where  was  prepared  one  plot  of  ground,  one  and 
twenty  yardes  square,  double  railed  for  the  combate,  without  the  West  Square."  In  the 
time  of  Nich.  Culpepper,  the  author  of  the  well-known  "  Merhaly'^  these  fields  were  famous 
for  their  parsley.  In  1651  (25th  August)  "the  Trained  Bands  of  London,  Westminster,"  &c., 
to  the  number  of  14,000,  we  are  told,  "drew  out  into  Tuttle  Fields."  Here,  too,  were  built 
the  "Five  Houses,"  or  "Seven  Chinmeys,"  as  pest-houses  for  victims  to  the  plague,  and 
in  1665  the  dead  were  buried  "in  the  open  Tuttle  Fields;"  and  here,  some  short  while 

bnilt  new" — (this  house  is  still  standing  in  what  is  now  called  Dacre  Street — a  small  lane  leading  out  of  the 
Broadway— and  its  garden  formerly  occupied  the  site  that  is  now  styled  Stmtton  Ground) — "  whose  ladj 
and  wife,  Anne,  left  money  to  build  an  hospital  for  twenty  poor  women  and  so  many  children,  which 
hospital,"  adds  the  old  historian,  **her  executors  have  new  begun  tin  the  JSeid  atgoinuiff**  This  institution 
is  now  known  as  Dacre's  Almshouses,  or  Emanuel  Hospital,  and  stands  in  Hopkins'  Bow,  at  the  back  of 
York  Street. 

'*  From  the  entry  into  Tothtll  Fidd,'*  Stow  proceeds  to  say,  "  the  street  it  cdBed  Petty  IVanee" — (this,  again, 
is  the  modem  York  Street) — *<  in  which,  upon  St.  Hermit's  Hill" — (now  merely  a  court,  and  the  name  coi^ 
rupted  into  Herman's  Hill) — *<  on  the  eouth  side  thsreof^  Cornelius  Van  Dun,  a  ^rabander  bom,  built  twenty 
houses  for  poor  women  to  dwell  rent  free."  These  were  styled  the  Bed  Lion  Almshouses,  and  stood,  tiU  six 
years  ago,  at  the  extreme  end  of  York  Street,  on  the  tongue  of  land  formed  by  the  junction  of  that  street 
with  Hopkins*  Bow  at  the  hack,  and  the  site  of  which  is  now  occupied  hy  St.  Margaret's  new  workhouse. 
It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  "  Totehill  Field,"  as  Stow  calls  it^  was  hut  one  large  plain  at  the  begimiing 
of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  that  the  entrance  to  it  was  at  the  part  now  styled  **  the  Broadway,*  West- 
minster— ^the  ancient  Petty  France,  or  modem  York  Street,  being  the  locality  which  stretches  **from  it,  or  ^ 
the  end  of  ToihiU  Street"  In  York  Street,  the  site  of  Van  Dun's  Almshouses  is,  as  we  have  said,  oocupied  by 
the  new  workhouse,  and  at  the  Broadway  the  house  of  Gyles  Lord  Dacre  assuredly  stood,  sinoe  the  alms- 
houses, which  we  are  told  were  erected  by  his  lady  and  wife,  Anne,  "  on  the  Jield  adjoining"  are  still  standing 
in  the  next  street  (Hopkins'  Bow).  How  far  the  Totehill  Field  extended  hack  from  the  Broadway  it  is 
difficult  to  state,  but  it  is  dear  it  could  not  lie  '^  between  MiUbank  and  Westminster,"  as  Mr.  Archer  sug- 
gests, and  yet  haye  its  entry  at  the  Broadway.  Mr.  Cunningham's  definition,  viz.,  that  it  comprised  the 
portion  of  lands  hounded  by  Tothill  Street,  Pimlico^  and  the  Thames,  is  probahly  more  correct. 

*  Mr.  Archer  derives  Tothill  from  "  Teut,"  the  chief  divinity  of  the  Druids,  and  the  equivalent  of  "  Thctk,** 
the  Egyptian  Mercury,  saying  that  the  "  Iht"  or  "  Thoth**  hill,  was  the;  place  whence  proclamations  were 
made.  An  ancient  manuscript  spells  the  name  **  Tuitky*  and  the  Normans,  it  is  well  known,  called  the 
whole  of  the  abbey  and  palace  precinct,  south  of  Pall  Mall,  "  Thomey  Island  and  tout  le  ehamp*  This,  it  is 
thought,  has  been  clipped  first  into  '<  toui-le,"  and  then  corrapted  into  *<  tuttle.'*  "  Toot-hiUs,"  says  Mr. 
Cunningham,  however,  <<  occur  in  many  parts  of  England,  under  the  several  forms  of  *  Tooty*  *  Jirf,'  *  Tot,* 
*  Tote,*  &c.  The  same  topographical  radicle  is  found  in  the  local  titles  of  Toteess,  IWbury,  and  also  jHwdng 
and  Tb^ton-ham."    In  Rcxsque's  map  (1746),  Toote  Sitt  is  marked  just  at  a  hend  in  the  Horseferry  Road. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


361 


afterwards,  "  1200  Scotch  prisoners,  taken  at  the  battle  of  Worcester,"  were  interred ;  for  the 
acconnts  of  the  churchwardens  of  St.  Margaret's,  Westminster,  says  the  author  of  ITie  Hand" 
hook  ofZandonf  exhibit  a  payment  of  ''  thirty  shillings  for  67  loads  of  soil  laid  on  the  graves 
of  Tothill  Fields,  wherein,"  it  is  added,  "  the  Scotch  prisoners  are  buried."  Some  of  the 
Scotch  were  "driven  like  a  herd  of  swine,"  says  Heath's  Chronicle,  '*  through  Westminster 
to  Tathill  Fields,"  and  there  sold  to  several  merchants  and  sent  to  the  Barbadoes. 

About  the  same  period  the  people  used  to  resort  to  a  maze  in  these  same  fields,  that, 
according  to  an  old  writer,  was  "much  frequented  in  the  summer-time,  in  fair  afternoons," 
the  fields  being  described  as  "  of  great  use,  pleasure,  and  recreation  "  to  the  king's  scholars 
and  neighbours.  And  Sir  Bichard  Steele,  writing  in  I%e  Tatler,  in  1709,  says,  "  here  was 
a  military  garden,  a  hrideweU,  and,  as  I  have  heard  tell,  a  race-course."  A  bear-garden, 
kept  by  one  William  Wells,  stood  upon  the  site  of  Yincent  Square. 

TothUl  Fields  was  also,  in  the  seventeenth  century,  a  celebrated  duelHng-ground ;  the 
last  "  aSair  of  honour  "  fought  there,  of  which  we  have  any  account,  took  place,  it  is  said, 
in  1711,  when  Sir  Chomley  Bering  was  killed  by  a  Mr.  Thomhill — the  tom-fools  fighting 
with  pistols  so  near  that  the  muzzles  touched. 

The  ''Bridewell"  of  which  Steele  spoke  as  existing  in  Tothill  Fields  at  the  beginning  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  was  erected  nearly  a  hundred  years  before-— viz.,  in  1618;  for  in  the 
garden  of  the  present  House  of  Correction  at  Westminster,  let  into  the  wall  that  stretches 
from  the  gate  between  B  and  C  prisons,  is  a  small  square  stone,  about  the  size  of  a  draught- 
board, with  the  following  inscription  nearly  erased : — 


A  Portion  of  the  old 

TothiU  Fields  Prison, 

in 

1618 

taken  down  Anno  Domini 

1836. 


This  ancient  prison,  say  the  London  chronicles,  was  altered  and  enlarged  in  the  year 
1655 ;  and  verily,  in  corroboration  of  the  statement,  we  find,  in  the  garden  surrounding  the 
present  building,  and  at  some  little  distance  jfrom  the  before-mentioned  tablet,  the  stone 
frame,  or  skeleton  as  it  were,  of  ih.e  old  prison  gateway,  in  shape  like  the  Greek  letter  TT, 
standing  by  itself  as  a  memorial,  at  the  back  of  B  prison,  between  what  are  now  the  female 
work-rooms,  but  which  a  few  years  ago  formed  the  site  of  the  then  prevalent  tread- wheels. 
This  cromlech-like  relic  is  covered  with  ivy,  and  looks  at  first  more  like  some  piece  of  imita- 
tion ruin- work  than  the  remains  of  a  prison  portal;  for  the  doorway  is  so  primitive  in 
character  (being  not  more  than  5  feet  10  inches  high  and  3  feet  wide),  that  it  seems  hardly 
bigger  than  the  entrance  to  a  cottage ;  nevertheless,  an  inscription,  painted  on  the  lintel, 
assures  us  that  it  was  the 

6^i;€was  «3a  VMmxm^  ^m^M^e  «:©  rDKUiJj  imip»  5SI5®»,  1665. 

Taken  doum  and  removed  to  this  site  Anno  Domini  1886. 

Moreover,  in  the  wall  of  what  is  termed  4  and  5  prison,  B  side — and  just  under  the  small, 
covered  bridge  that  leads  from  the  upper  part  of  the  jail  here  to  the  chapel  over  the  governor's 
house— there  is  another  memorial-stone  built  into  the  brickwork,  after  the  fashion  of  the 


362 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


tablet  first  described,  and  in  this  is  cut  the  following  inscription,  setting  forth  the  class  of 
offenders  for  which  the  ancient  prison  was  originally  designed : — 


Here  are  several  Sorts  of  Work 

For  the  Poor  of  this  Parish  of  St. 

Margarety  Westminster^ 

As  also  the  County  according  to 

LAW,  and  for  such  as  will  Beg  and 
Live  Idler  in  this  City  and  Liberty 

of  Westminster  J 
ANNO  1655. 


Thus,  then,  we  perceive  that  Tothill  Fields  prison  was  originally  intended  as  a  "  bridewell," 
or  house  of  correction,  in  connection  with  the  parish  of  St.  Margaret,  Westminster,  i,e.y  a 
place  for  the  " penitentiary  amendment "  of  such  "sturdy  beggars  "  and  "valiant  rogues'* 
as  objected  to  work,  as  well  as  others  falling  under  the  legal  description  of  vagrant. 

Hence  it  would  appear  that  the  Tothill  Fields  BrideweU*  (a  name  that  it  bore  till  almost 
within  the  last  few  years),  was,  in  the  Erst  instance,  designed  as  a  penal  establishment  in 
connection  with  the  poor-house,  and,  like  that  establishment,  originally  maintained  at  the 
expense  of  the  county  or  city,  and  governed  by  the  justices  of  the  locality. 

This  old  prison,  we  learn  from  the  chief  warder  of  the  present  establishment,  occnpied 
the  plot  of  ground  which  adjoins  the  north  side  of  the  "  Green  Coat  School,"  and  which  is 
now  covered  by  the  line  of  newly-built  shops  on  the  west  side  of  Artillery  Bow,  giving 
into  Yictoria  Street,  and  situate  at  the  north-eastern  comer  of  the  new  prison  itself ;  so  that— 
as  this  same  Green  Coat  School,  or  "  St.  Margaret's  Hospital,"  as  it  was  formerly  styled, 
was  dedicated,  as  far  back  as  1638;  to  the  relief  of  the  poor  fatherless  children  of  St  Mar- 
garet's parish — ^it  is  probable  that  "  the  hospital  or  abiding  house "  for  the  poor,  and  its 
next-door  neighbour,  the  "bridewell,"  or  "  house  of  correction,"  for  the  compulsoiy  employ- 
ment of  such  paupers  as  were  "  mighty  in  body"  and  objected  to  work,  were  originally  con- 
joint parish  institutions — ^the  one  for  granting  relief  to  the  industrious  poor,  and  the  other 
for  punishing  the  idle ;  for  the  43rd  of  Elizabeth,  c.  2  (which  was  passed  in  the  year  1601), 
directed  the  overseers  of  the  poor  in  every  parish  "  to  take  order  for  setting  to  work  the 
children  of  all  indigent  parents,"  as  well  as  all  such  persons  having  no  means  of  mamtainipg 
themselves ;  and  also  gave  power  to  the  justices  to  send  to  the  house  of  correction  all  able- 
bodied  persons  who  would  not  work.  Hence  these  twin  establishments  of  the  pauper  prison 
(or  bridewell)  and  the  pauper  school — ^the  one  erected  in  1618,  and  enlarged  in  1655,  and  the 
other  establii^ed  in  1633 — were  most  probably  among  the  first  institutions  raised  for  carrying 
out  the  injunctions  of  the  original  poor  law  enacted  in  1601. 

The  fellow  houBe  of  correction  for  Middlesex  seems  to  have  been  originally  set  up  at 
Coldbath  Fields  at  about  the  same  period — "  in  the  reign  of  the  first  James"  (a.i>.  1608 — ^25), 
says  Mr.  Dixon. 

«  «  A  bridewell,"  says  one  of  the  Middlesex  justicea,  in  a  letter  to  ns,  *'  is  another  name  for  a  home  <A 
oorreotion."  The  City  Bridewell,  howeyer  (Bridge  Street,  Blackfriars),  was,  when  open  (it  has  been  doie^ 
for  the  lajBt  two  years  now),  restricted  to  the  reception  of  unruly  apprentices  and  vagrants,  committed  to  jtil 
fir  thru  monihi  and  lets  ;  whereas  a  bouse  of  correction  is  understood  to  be  a  place  of  safe  custody  and  paatdi- 
ment,  to  which  o£Eenden  are  sent  when  commitud  either  summarily  or  at  sessions,  for,  generally  peaking 
ttpo  yMTS  and  le8$. 


FBU&LE  PSISOKERS'  OWN  CLOIHXS  BTO&E  AT  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PKIBOM. 


BOT3'  BCnoOL-OOOU  AT  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PItlSOH. 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  363 

Bat  tiiongh  origmally  designed  as  a  bridewell  for  vagratU;  Tothill  Fields  was  converted, 
ve  are  told,  at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century  (in  the  reign  of  Qneen  Anne, 
A.D.  1702 — 14),  into  a  jail  for  the  con&iement  of  crmindU  also ;  and  Howard,  writing 
towards  the  end  of  the  same  century  (1777),  'describes  it,"  says  llr.  Hepworth  Dixon, 
"as  being  remarkably  well  managed  at  that  period,  holding  up  its  enlightened  and 
caieM  keeper,  one  George  Smith,  as  a  model  to  other  govemors. 

Some  thirty  odd  years  ago,  however,  the  erection  of  a  new  prison  was  decided  upon,  and 
an  Act  for  that  purpose  obtained  in  1826.  Then  a  different  site  was  chosen,  and  a  piece  of 
land  on  the  western  side  of  the  Green  Coat  School,  and  near  the  Yauzhall  Bridge  Eoad, 
haying  been  selected,  £16,000  was  paid  for  a  plot  that  was  8  acres  2  roods  and  17  poles 
in  extent,  and  the  foundations  commenced.*  The  designs  were  furnished  by  Mr.  Eobert 
Abraham,  and  the  building,  which  cost  £186,178  19«.  Ad,  (says  our  precise  informant), 
was  finished  and  opened  for  the  reception  of  prisoners  in  the  year  1834;  after  which  the 
old  prison  was  pulled  down,  and  the  relics  already  described  transferred  to  the  new  one, 
as  we  have  said,  in  1836. 

The  new  prison  at  Tothill  Fields  is  situate  on  the  southern  side  of  Victoria  Street,  and 
has  its  front  in  Francis  Street — a  smaU  thoroughfare  giving  into  the  Yauxhall  Bridge  Boad. 
According  to  the  guide-books,  it  is  a  soUd  and  even  handsome  structure,  and  one  of  great 
extent  as  weU  as  strength.  ''  Seen  from  Victoria  Street,"  says  one  London  topographer — 
though,  by  the  bye,  it  is  in  no  way  visible  in  that  direction — <'it  resembles  a  substantial 
fortress."  The  main  entrance  is  on  the  Vauxhall  side  of  the  building  in  Francis  Street,  and 
the  doorway  here  is  formed  of  massive  granite  blocks,  and  immense  iron  gates,  ornamented 
above  with  portcullis  work.  "  Viewed  from  this  point,"  the  author  of  "  London  Prisons  " 
describes  the  exterior  (though  there  is  nothing  but  a  huge  dead  wall  and  the  prison 
gateway  to  be  seen)  ''  as  being  the  very  ideal  of  a  national  prison — ^vast,  airy,  light,  and 
yet  inexorably  Bafe."t 

The  building  is  said  to  be  one  of  the  finest  specimens  of  brickwork  in  the  Metropolis, 
and  consists  of  three  distinct  prisons,  each  constructed  aUke,  on  Bentham's  "  panopticon" 
plan,  in  the  form  of  a  half-wheel,  t.  0.,  with  a  series  of  detached  wings,  radiating,  spoke- 
fashion,  frx)m  a  central  lodge  or  '^  argus"  (as  such  places  were  formerly  styled)— one  of  such 
lodges  being  situate,  midway,  in  each  of  the  three  sides  of  a  spacious  turfed  and  planted 
court-yard ;  so  that  the  outline  of  the  ground-plan  of  these  three  distinct,  half- wheel-like 
prisons  resembles  the  ace  of  clubs,  with  the  court-yard  forming  an  open  square  in  the 
centre. 

"For  a  house  of  correction,"  Mr.  Hepworth  Dixon  considers  "it  is  one  of  the  very  worst 
erections  in  London"  (nevertheless,  it  is  infinitely  superior  to  Coldbath  Fields);  and,  he  adds, 
"  seeing  that  it  was  built  only  a  few  years  ago,  it  is  astonishing  that  it  should  have  been 
80  ill  arranged.  It  is,"  he  proceeds  to  say,  ''very  badly  designed,  the  radical  principle,  as 
illustrate  at  Pentonville,  and  other  prisons,  being  utterly  neglected,  and  the  detached 
buildings  (or  wings)  which  radiate  from  each  of  the  central  lodges  being,  for  aU  practical 
purposes  of  control,  really  so  many  separate  prisons."  ''  There  is  no  concealing  the  fact," 
subjoins  the  author,  in  another  part  of  his  book,  **  that  this  building  is  a  huge  and  costly 
blunder." 

*  For  this,  and  much  more  infonnation  in  connectioii  with  the  above  prison,  we  are  indebted  to  Mr. 
Antrobiu,  one  of  the  visiting  justices,  and  a  gentleman  who  is  well  known  to  all  social  philosophers  and 
jurists  for  his  efforts  concerning  the  reformation  of  ^uvenile  offenders,  as  well  as  his  admirable  work  entitled, 
^  The  Prison  and  the  SchooL" 

t  "  Indeed  it  if  inexorably  safe,'"  the  authority  above  quoted  tells  us— there  never  having  been  but  one 
escape  from  it,  and  that  was  owing  to  the  carelessness  of  the  door-keeper,  who  laid  down  his  key,  when  a 
prisoner  picked  it  up,  unlocked  the  door,  and  walked  away. — Dixon* t  **  London  PriroiM." 
26» 


364 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 


The  WeBtminster  new  prison,  as  rebuilt  in  1834,  contained  (1)  a  ''jail"*  for  untried 
male  prisoners  as  well  as  debtors,  (2)  a  house  of  correction  for  males  after  conyiction  (when 
sentenced  to  a  shorter  term  than  that  of  transportation),  and  (3)  a  prison  for  women. 

This  tripartite  arrangement  of  the  new  Tothill  Pields  prison  appears  to  have  been 
adopted  in  cohformily  with  the  requirements  of  the  4th  of  George  lY.,  cap.  64— ^shortly  after 
the  passing  of  which  Act  the  erection  of  a  new  prison  at  Westminster  appears  to  hare  been 
decided  upon.   But  the  notions  that  prevailed,  at  the  period  of  its  erection,  concerning  prison 


A«  OovcriiOT*!  HooMt 

B.  Matron's  Hooae. 

C.  Prindpal  Warder's  HooM. 


DD.  Female  Prisons. 
E.  Boys' Prison, 
a.  Airing  Yards. 


c,  h.  Prison  Offlees. 

d.  Inspection  Yard. 
«,/.  Lanndry  and  Washhoow. 


OROUNB-PLAN  OF  TOTHILL  FIELDS  PBISOX. 


requirements  and  discipline,  were  fiar  fix>m  being  sufficiently  settled  to  warrant  the  constnic- 
tion  of  an  institution  based  upon  vague  and  inefficient  ideas  of  classification ;  and  accord- 
iiiglyy  when  it  was  found  expedient  to  establish  houses  of  detention  ea^re^fy  for  the  con- 


•  A  common  jaU  is  said  to  have  been  defined  by  the  4th  of  George  IV.,  cap.  64,  a.  5.  But  this  statute, 
which  refers  principally  to  the  claasiflcation  of  prisoners,  enjoins  merely,  in  the  section  alluded  to,  that  when 
any  house  of  correction  shall  be  annexed  to  the  common  jail,  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the  magistrates  to  divide 
the  house  of  correction  and  its  adjoining  common  jail  into  such  number  of  compartments  as  would  be  required 
for  carrying  into  effect  the  classiftcation  of  prisoners  directed  by  that  Act—the  same  as  if  the  two  prisons  had 
been  distinct  and  separate  establishments.  The  magistrates,  however,  are  to  declare  what  part  of  the  united 
building  shall  be  considered  as  the  jail  and  what  other  part  be  regarded  as  the  houteof  eorr^eUony  and  to  i 
what  classes  of  prisoners  shall  be  confined  in  each  part— "/yrwicM,'*  says  the  Act,  ^*that  pritomn  fir 
shall  aiway$  be  eonjlned  in  the  part  appropriated  at  and  for  the  jail,"  One  of  the  Middlesex  magtstntes,  in  a 
letter  addressed  to  us,  defines  a  common  jail  as  a  place  of  safe  custody  for  prisoners  before  trial  and  dsbtois, 
ao  that,  according  to  this  definition,  a  "  common  jail "  =  a  "  house  of  detention  "  -fa  '*  debtors'  prisoo.** 


HOUSE  OF  COBHECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELBS.  365 

finement  of  prisoners  lefore  triali  and  to  have  special  places  for  the  safe  custody  of  debtors, 
the  Westminster  prison  came  to  be  restricted  to  the  confinement  of  criminals  (other  than 
trazisports  or  convicts)  after  conviction  only.     This  change  occurred  in  1845. 

In  the  year  1850  a  still  more  important  alteration  ensued  in  the  character  of  the  West- 
minster prison;  up  to  that  period  Tothill  Fields  brideweU  had  been  appropriated  to  the 
reception  of  att  classes  of  convicted  prisoners,  not  being  transports  or  convicts;  but,  at  the 
Apiil  Quarter  Sessions  in  that  year,  one  of  the  Middlesex  magistrates  (Mr.  Thomas  Turner) 
moved  to  the  effect,  that  a  committee  be  appointed  to  consider  and  report  upon  the  practica- 
bility and  expediency  of  appropriating  each  of  the  houses  of  correction  for  the  county  of 
Middlesex  to  the  reception  of  distinct  classes  of  offenders.* 

In  accordance  with  the  recommendations  of  that  report,  it  was  determined,  in  July, 
1850,  that  the  House  of  Correction  at  Westminster  should  be  henceforth  restricted  to  the 
reception  of  convicted  female  prisoners  and  males  lehw  the  age  of  seventeen  years,  and 
that  all  convicted  male  prisoners  of  the  age  of  »eventeen  years  and  upwards  (and  those  only) 
should,  for  the  ^ture,  be  sent  to  the  House  of  Correction  at  Coldbath  Fields ;  whilst  persons 
wnmitUd  for  want  of  sttreties,  or  safe  custody  merely,  were  to  be  conveyed  to  the  House  of 
Detention  at  derkenwell. 

This  change,  which  effected  the  best  possible  classification  of  prisoners  (a  classification 
which,  while  it  was  really  the  only  one  rationally  required,  was  also  that  one  alone  which  the 
Beveral  Acts  of  Parliament  concerning  the  separation  of  criminals— of  felons  from  misdemean- 
ants, and  misdemeanants,  again,  from  vagrants — ^had  not  enjoined)  produced  at  once,  not 
only  an  immense  saving  in  the  number  of  officers  necessary  for  the  government  of  each  of 
^  prisons,  but  also  brought  the  prisoners  into  precisely  such  groups  as  are  essential  as  well 
to  the  preservation  of  order  and  decency,  as  to  the  due  comprehension  of  the  subject  of  crime 
in  general. 

*  The  words  of  the  motion  were,  "That  a  Committee  be  appointed  to  conaider  and  report  upon  the 
pncticabillty  and  expediency  of  eUesifying  prisoners  committed  to  the  houses  of  correction  for  the  county 
of  Middlaaex,  and  appropriating  each  prison  to  the  reception  of  distinct  daases  of  offenders,  and  to  submit 
to  the  Court  meh  acheme  aa  they  may  oonaider  beat  adapted  for  carrying  out  this  arrangement|  if  the  prinoiple 
lie  tppioved  by  them." 

The  Committee  appointed  by  tiie  Court  consisted  of  the  following  justices  :— 


Thoe.  Turner,  Esq. 
J.  Wi]ks,  Eeq. 
P.  Laurie,  £eq. 


B.  Botch,  Esq. 

C.  Devon,  Esq. 
W.  Buchanan,  Esq. 


B.  J.  Armatrong,  Esq.       ,      Edmd.  £.  Antrobus,  Esq. 

C.  Woodward,  Esq.  I     J.  T.  Brooking,  Esq. 
Ilenry  Warner,  Esq.         I 

Aod  the  Report  made  by  them  was  aa  follows : — **  That  your  Committee  have  procured  returns  to  be  made  to 
them  of  the  number  of  prisoners  of  different  classes  confbed  in  the  houses  of  correction  for  this  county,  at 
Tirious  periods,  ending  29th  June  last;  they  have  also  had  plana  submitted  to  them  of  the  same  buildings 
reapeetiTely,  and  have  inquired  particularly  into  their  respectiye  accommodations.  The  Conmiittee  have, 
moreoTer,  examined  the  govemore  of  each  of  the  houses  of  correction  upon  the  subject  referred  to  them, 
sad  they  have  unanimously  agreed  upon  the  following  resolutions,  which  they  recommend  to  the  adoption  of 
the  Court — the  arrangements  therein  comprised  not  only  affording,  in  the  opinion  of  your  Committee, 
&eilities  for  the  better  description  and  management  of  prisoners,  but  also  being  calculated  to  effect  an  impor- 
tant saving  in  the  prison  expenditure.    Besolyed : — 

*'  1.  That  all  persons  committed  for  tcant  of  turetisBf  or  safe  custody  merely,  be  sent  to  the  Soues  of 

DeUnUion  at  ClcrkenwcU* 
**  2.  That  all  male  prisoners  btlow  the  age  of  11  yearc,  not  included  in  the  foregoing  resolution,  be  sent  to 

the  Mouic  of  ComcHony  Wesimmiter, 
**  3.  That  all  female  prUontre,  except  such  as  are  included  in  the  first  resolution,  he  sent  to  the  Eouee 

of  Correetion,  Westmmster* 
"  4.  That  all  male  prisoners  of  the  aye  of  17  ifcare  and  upwards,  except  such  as  are  included  in  the  fiiat 

resolution,  be  sent  to  the  Souee  of  Corrtetion,  Coldbath  Fielde:' 

These  resolutions  were  adopted  by  the  Court  of  Quarter  SessionS|  July  18f  1850. 


THE  GEEAT  'WOBLD  OP  LONDON. 


Sy  the  table  given  below,  showing  the  number  of  male  and  female  officere  employed, 
an  well  as  the  gross  amount  of  Halaiies  paid  at  each  of  tbe  Middleeez  houaea  of  correction 
for  the  year  ht/bre,  and  the  year  afi«r,  the  above-mentioaed  change  waa  introduced,  it  will 
be  seen  that  the  justices  were  enabled,  by  the  adoption  of  this  most  wise  and  efficient 
measure,  to  manage  the  two  prieons  with  twenty  offlcerfl  less,  and  thus  to  reduce  the  sum  paid 
annually  in  salariea  to  the  extent  of  £1,719  ;  or,  in  other  words,  to  decrease  the  conjoint  staff 
of  officers,  as  well  as  the  cost  of  management,  very  nearly  ten  per  cent,  respectively  ;*  for, 


COBKaonOM  at  WaSTKDISIZB,  D 


■  TBUti  BHDIKa  MCnAXLIUS,   1 


NumboT  of  Vale  Offic«n 

Ditto  Female .    .    .    .    . 

Tota  Dumber  of  OSeen 
wnpbyed 

SumpuduumiUyinStLi. 
riM  to  inch  Offioen  .    . 

COLDBATH  FIBLOS. 

TOTBOH,  yiELDS. 

BOTB  ESTiBLIBHMEMTS,! 

ISM.         WJl. 

men. 

liM. 

lUl. 

Dl»r. 

im. 

,„.|-S-| 

SB 
29 

118 

103 

103 
£9,990 

+  H 

—  29 

—  16 
-£9IZ 

60 

23 

S3 
£7,648 

40 

38 

78 
£6,7*1 

—  20 
+  15 

—  6 

-£807 

140 
62 

201 

113 

38 

ISl 
£16,731 

—  6 

—  14 

—  » 

-X1719 

£10,902 

nB,«. 

HOUSE  OP  COERECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  367 

though  the  staff  of  male  officers  at  Coldbath  lields,  after  the  change,  had  to  be  increased 
fourteen,  on  account  of  aU  the  adult  tnale  prisoners  for  Middlesex  being  then  sent  to  that 
prison  only,  nevertheless,  it  was  found  that  the  staff  of  female  officers  there  admitted  of 
bemg  reduced  not  less  than  twenty-nine,  owing  to  the  female  prisoners  being  aU  removed 
from  it,  and  that  a  saving  of  fifteen  officers  altogether  might  thus  bo  effected  at  this 
one  establishment;  whilst  at  Tothill  Fields,  though  the  staff  of  female  officers  required 
to  be  increased  fifteen  on  account  of  its  becoming  the  eole  receptacle  for  the  female  prisoners 
of  the  county,  still,  by  the  removal  of  dU  the  adult  male  prisoners,  the  staff  of  male 
ofBoers  was,  on  the  other  hand,  capable  of  being  decreased  to  the  extent  of  twenty,  and, 
consequently,  a  saving  of  five  officers  altogether  became  possible  at  that  particular  esta- 
blishment. 

To  the  Middlesex  magistrates,  therefore,  belongs  the  high  honour  of  having  not  only 
erected  a  special  place  of  safe  custody  for  the  confinement  of  prisoners  before  trial,  or,  in  other 
words,  of  haying  been  the  originators  of  "  houses  of  detention ''  for  secluding  the  probable 
innocent  man  from  the  convicted  criminal,  but  also  of  having  voluntarily — for  no  Act  of 
Parliament  has  yet  ordered  such  a  proceeding— determined  upon  the  removal  of  the 
pnng  and  thoughtless  out  of  the  contact,  and  therefore  the  contagion,  of  the  old  and  hardened 
offender — ^the  one  measure  being  as  distinguished  for  its  justice  as  the  other  is  for  its  benevo- 
lence and  wisdom. 

The  Westminster  prison  has  thus,  in  the  course  of  years,  passed  from  the  old  bridewell, 
originally  designed  for  the  "  compulsory  setting  to  work  "  of  such  stalwart  paupers  as  objected 
to  labour  for  the  bread  they  ate— into,  first,  a  prison  for  vagrants  and  others  charged  with 
trivial  offences,  or,  in  other  words,  into  a  prison  for  petty  criminals  also ;  then  into  a  place  of 
confinement  for  aU  classes  of  prisoners,  both  before  and  after  trial ;  afterwards  into  an  insti- 
tation  for  the  imprisonment  of  dU  classes  of  offenders  after  trial  only,  when  sentenced  to  terms 
less  than  that  of  transportation;  and,  finally,  into  a  receptacle  for  merely  female  prisoners 
and/NMNiZM. 

The  Westminster  prison,  as  at  present  constituted,  consists  of  three  distinct  prisons, 
arranged,  as  we  have  said,  one  at  each  of  the  three  sides  of  the  planted  quadrangle  which 
forms  the  court-yard,  and  called  respectively  A  prison,  B  prison,  and  C  prison — ^the  latter, 
or  B  and  0  prisons,  being  appropriated  to  the  reception  of  females,  and  the  former,  or  prison 
A,  set  apart  for  boys. 

The  total  amount  of  accommodation  afforded  by  the  prison  is  returned  officially  as 

follows:— 

Boys.  Females.  Total. 

The  (gross)  number  of  prisoners  the  prison  is  capable  of  con-  |  ^^^ 

tfti-niTig  when  more  than  one  prisoner  sleeps  in  one  cell    .      j 
The  number  of  prisoners  (out  of  the  above)  the  prison  is  capable  \  ^gg      g^2       549 
of  containing  in  separate  sleeping  cells j 

The  prison,  therefore,  has  separate  sleeping  accommodation  for  not  quite  two-thirds  of 
the  number  it  is  capable  of  containing.     The  numbers  that  it  really  does  contain  in  the 

course  of  the  year  are  as  under : —  _    , 

Boys.   Females.  Total. 

The  greatest  number  of  prisoners  at  any  time  in  the  course  of  |  ^^^      ^^^      ^^^ 

the  year  ending  Michaelmas,  1865 ) 

The  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  throughout  the  year  ^  ^^q      qqq      q-^q 

ending  Michaelmas,  1865 ) 

Hence,  we  perceive  that  though  the  entire  prison  has  accommodation  only  for  900  pri- 
soners of  both  sexes,  even  when  more  than  one  prisoner  sleeps  in  one  cell,  it  sometimes 
contains  as  much  as  7  per  cent,  beyond  that  amount. 


d68 


tHE  GREAT  ^ORLD  OF  LONDOH^. 


Of  the  gross  prison  population  for  the  year,  the  retams  are  here  given :— - 
The  number  of  prisoners  remaining  in  custody  at  the  close  of  )       ^  ' 


243       623       866 


the  year  ending  Michaelmasi  1854 

The  number  of  prisoners  committed  in  the  course  of  the  year  )                        ^ 
ending  Michaelmas,  1855 )  _J J J 

The  gross  prison  population  for  the  year  ending  Michaelmas, )  ^  -  -^   «  qqo  q  i  q4 
1855 i    '         ^'^®^  ^'^^^ 

The  official  staff  consists  of  1  goTomor,  2  chaplains,  1  surgeon,  3  clerks,  I  storekeeper, 
1  principal  warder,  and  31  male  warders;  1  principal  matron,  and  47  matrons  or  female 
warders. 

Hence,  we  find  that  as  there  are  altogether  31  male  warders  to  a  daily  average  of  270 
boys  throughout  the  y^ar,  the  proportion  is  1  officer  to  less  than  every  9  boys,  which  is 
nearly  as  high  as  Millbank,  and  considerably  higher  than  Coldbath  Fields,  where  the  pro- 
portion is  1  officer  to  every  13  prisoners.  Again,  as  there  are  47  female  warders  to  a  daily 
average  of  600  female  prisoners,  the  porportion  here  is  1  officer  to  not  quite  13  prisoners; 
whilst,  for  the  whole  prison,  the  proportion  of  officers  to  prisoners  is  1  to  11.  At  Pentonville 
the  officers  are  to  the  prisoners  as  1  to  17.* 

At  Tothill  Fields,  however,  the  ratio  of  officers  to  prisoners  is  far  from  being  excessive ; 
for  we  find,  by  the  Nineteenth  Report  of  the  Inspectors  of  Prisons  (p.  161),  that,  lihroughoat 
the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  the  proportion  of  officers  to  prisoners  is  as  follows : — 


,609      3,082 


Males.    Females. 

Daily  average  number  of  prisoners  in  the  whole  of  the| 

prisons  in  the  course  of  the  year  1853 i     ' 

Number  of  officers  employed  in  all  the  prisons  col-) 

lectively ' )     '* 

Number  of  prisoners  to   each  officer  throughout  the| 

prisons  of  England  and  Wales ) 

Number  of  prisoners  to  each  officer  at  Tothill  Fields) 

prison .....; 

Number  of  prisoners  to  each  officer  at  Coldbath  Fields) 

prison i 


,504 


90 


420 


71 


8-7        12-7 


13-8         — 


Total 
both  sexes. 

16,691 

1,924 

8-6 

110 

130 


*  The  subjoined  table,  copied  from  the  "  Special  Beport  of  the  Visiting  Justices"  for  1856,  shows  the 
number  of  prisoners  and  officers  for  the  last  quinquenniad : — 

TABLB  SHOWING  TBB  AVEBAOE  NUMBER,  AS  WELL  AS  THE  OBBATEST  NUMBEU  OF  PRI80NB&S  AND 
OFFTCBBS,  TOOBTHEB  WITH  THE  AMOUNT  PAID   IN  SALARIES  FOR  BACH  YEAR,   FROM   1851-55. 


Ayerage  number  of  pri- 
■onen  throughout  the 
yeiir  ending  Michael- 


1851. 


8 


Greatest  number  of  pri- 
Boners  at  any  one  time 
in  the  course  of  the 
year 

Number  of  officers   .    . 

Amount  paid  in  salaries, 

SCO*         •••••• 


220 


251 
40 


i 

^ 


430 


517 
88 


1853. 


650 

768 
78 

£6788  lOt. 


248 


^ 


472 


'257  541 
i  40   89 


1853. 


94 


730 

798 
79 

£6750  12s. 


236' 


257 
40 


523 


63) 
41 


e 


1854. 


I 


759      I 

888      {1825 
81      I    40 

£0961  16«.'|  — 


781 
44 


1855. 


t 

I 

1 

1 

276 

631 

907 

I' 


I  ' 


907      '  270 

600 

870 

1056        389 

tS76 

1 
9» 

84          40-48 

1 

-  ! 

£7161  1«». 

£710S  Cs. 

HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


369 


It  iB  with  fhe  juyenile,  or  A,  prison,  that  we  purpose  dealing  first.  This  comprises  four 
distinot  radiating  wings,  diverging  from  the  lodge  in  the  centre,  which  constitutes  the  principal 
warder's  house.  These  wings  though  radiating,  are  still  detached  from  the  central  lodge, 
and  therefore  supervision  is  yirtually  preyented.  The  octant  space  hetween  each  of  the 
wings  is  doToted  to  an  airing-yard,  of  which  there  are  four.  There  are  altogether  193 
separate  sleeping  cells  distributed  throughout  the  boys'  division  of  the  Westminster  prison, 
as  well  as  a  large  dormitory  at  the  upper  part  of  one  of  the  wings,  capable  of  containing 
some  80  odd  lads. 

On  the  day  of  our  second  visit  to  this  prison,  there  were  altogether  271  boys,  under  seven- 
teen years  of  age,  confined  in  it;  87  of  these  had  slept  in  the  dormitory  on  the  previous 
nigiit,  7  in  the  reception  ceUs,  and  the  remaining  177  in  the  separate  cells  throughout  the 
sereral  wings.* 

The  separate  cells  are  8  feet  long  by  6  broad  and  9  high,  and  have  a  capacity  of  432 
cubic  feet,  which,  it  will  be  seen,  is  less  than  one-half  that  of  the  model  cells  at  Pentonville ; 
neither  is  there  any  special  apparatus  here  for  ensuring  the  ventilation  of  the  building,  mere 
holes  in  the  waU  being  resorted  to  as  a  means  of  removing  the  foul  air  and  supplying  fr^sh ; 
nor  are  the  cells  fitted  with  gas,  or  supplied  with  water,  or  indeed  closets,  or  any  appliance  for 
sommoning  the  warder  in  case  of  emergency  during  the  night.  In  frust,  the  construction  of 
the  cells  is  about  as  defective,  in  a  sanitary  point  of  view,  as  can  well  be  imagined,  the 
prison  being  nnprovided  with  any  apparatus,  not  only  for  ensuring  perfect  ventilation,  as 
we  have  said,  but  even  for  warming  and  lighting  the  cells  in  the  long  winter  nights. 
Some  of  the  windows  are  what  are  called  '*  Vowore'^  ones,  that  is  to  say,  they  are  unglazed, 
and  fitted  with  a  venetian-blind-like  screen,  with  shutters  inside,  to  be  closed  at  night; 
other  windows  are  ^'hoppered,''  having  a  kind  of  wedge-Hke  screen  fastened  before 
them. 

The  furniture  of  the  cells  consists  of  an  iron  bed,  a  straw  mattress  in  sacking  or  tick,  a 
rag,  and  one  blanket  during  summer  and  three  in  winter,  but  they  contain  neither  table  nor 
chair,  a  small  stool  only  being  provided,  and  a  zinc  pan  added  as  a  night  utensil. 

Mr.  Frederick  Hill  (Late  inspector  of  prisons),  in  his  admirable  book  upon  ''CniHie;  iU 
Amoumty  Causes,  and  Remedies"  says,  while  treating  of  the  construction  of  prisons,  ''that  if 
the  ventilation  he  vigorous  (for  which  purpose  he  reeommenda  a  slow  fire,  in  a  common  flue 


*  A  more  particolar  account  of  the  difltributLon  is  subjoined  :— 

RlTniENT   or  TBS  DISTBIBUTIO:*   OF  PBISOITEBS  THBOUOHOUT  THB  B0T8*   PB180N  OF  THE   MIDDLESEX 

HOUSE  OF  OOBBBOIION  AT  WESTMIMSTEB,   JVLT    7tH,    1856. 


PriaoQ. 
lA  . 

3„  . 


No.  of    No.  of 
oelU.   inmatM. 


21 
18 
18 


21 
18 
18 


Prison. 
4A  . 


No.  of    No.  of 
oells.  ixunates. 


}> 


6 


n 


»« 


28 
28 
28 
28 


28 
28 
28 
28 


The  work-rooms  here  consiflt  of — 

1.  The  large  oakum-room,  83  feet  long  ^ 

bj  36  feet  wide,  at  end  of  7  and  8  >  220  boys 
airing-yard,  and  holding    ,    ,    ^    ,) 

2.  8hoemaklng-room,  18  feet  by  21  feet,  >    lov^y. 

in  prison  8  A,  containiog      .    «    . ) 

3.  The  tailoring-room,  18  feet  by  21  feet, )   gg  \^^^ 

in  prison  8  A,  containing  .    ,    .    •  5 

4.  The  carpenter's  shop,  18  feet  by  21 )     g  Mv 

feet,  in  prison  8  A,  containing  .    . ) 

5.  The  oakum-store,  18  feet  by  21  feet, )     ^ . 

at  side  of  court-yard,  containing    . ) 


Prison.  ^ 

8A.    .     .     10 
Recep.  cells    14 


No.  of    No.  of 
cells,   inmates. 


Total  in  sep. 
cells     .    193 


8 
7 

184 


No.  of 

inmates. 

Dormitory  oyer  2  and 
3  portion  of  prison 
A 87 

Total  in  prison  A     .271 


The   garden   ground   surrounding   the^ 

building  within  the  walls  measures  >  2  iMires. 

about ) 

The  garden    ground    attached    to  the^ 

prison  outside  the  waUs  measures  >  3  acres. 

about ) 

In  garden  work  there  are  employed  upon  )  g  i^ 

an  ayerage • ) 


370 


THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


or  shaft,  or  else  a  rude  kind  of  air-pump,  to  be  worked  by  the  prisonera),  a  cell  that  is  about 
10  feet  long,  7  feet  wide,  and  8  feet  high''  (or,  in  other  words,  having  a  oapadty  equal  to 
560  cubio  feet)  wlU,  for  ordinary  purposes,  be  svfieiently  large."  The  cells  at  Tothill  Fields, 
where  no  special  ventilating  apparatus  is  employed,  howeyer,  contain,  as  we  said,  only  4S2 
cubic  feet,  and  are  thus  within  a  fraction  of  23  per  cent,  smaller  than  that  which  Mr.  Hill 
declares  to  be  just  large  enough  for  health,  provided  the  venttUUion  he  vuforaue.  Again, 
the  same  author,  while  speaking  of  the  yarious  modes  of  warming  cella,  recommends  either 
hot  air  or  hot  water,  but  in  no  case  does  he  advise  that  the  cells  shall  be  unheated  through- 
out the  severest  winters;  indeed,  he  objects  to  stone  floors  as  being  ^' great  abstracters  of 
heat,"  and  withdrawing  it  fix>m  that  part  of  the  body  which,  he  teUs  us,  it  is  most  important 
should  be  warm.  Nor  does  he  in  any  case  recommend  that  prisoners  should  be  looked  up  in 
their  cells  for  twelve  and  a  half  hours  out  of  the  twenty-four,  in  utter  darknesB  durmg  the 
winter — ^a  waste  of  time  and  opportunity  for  mental  improvement  that  appears  to  us  to  be 
positively  wicked.  Indeed,  it  is  astonishing  that  a  body  of  gentlemen  like  the  Middleaex 
magistrates,  to  whom  the  public  is  indebted  for  most  important  prison  improvements,  should 
allow  such  a  glaring  defect  as  an  unventilated,  unlighted,  and  unheated  jail  to  remain  for  a 
single  day. 

The  diBcipline  enforced  at  this  prison  is  the  *'  silent  associated  "  form,  though  a  large 
number  of  the  prisoners  have  not  separate  sleeping  ceUs  at  night — a  measure  which  is  c<»i- 
sidered  to  be  absolutely  necessary  for  the  beneflcial  working  of  the  system.  Mr,  IHxon, 
some  years  back,  spoke  of  this  defect,  and  it  is  even  worse  now  than  at  the  time  he  wrote. 
''This  crowding  of  prisoners  together  in  the  night  is  an  unpardonable  &ult,"  he  said ;  ^*uadet 
whatever  system  of  discipline  the  culprit  is  placed  during  the  hours  of  work  or  study,  he 
should  be  compelled  to  sleep  alone.  A  body  of  eighty  felons  lying  in  a  common  room 
(although  an  officer  stay  all  night  in  the  apartment)  will  suffer  more  corruption  and  contami- 
nation in  ten  hours,  than  they  would  in  ten  months  of  silent  fellowship  in  the  school  or  work- 


room. 


tt 


The  santtary  (xmditwn  of  Tothill  Fields  prison  is,  notwithstanding  the  defective  construc- 
tion of  the  cells,  better  than  might  have  been  anticipated.  ''  The  statistical  Inhumation 
afforded  by  the  annexed  table,"  says  the  Special  Beport  of  the  Visiting  Justices  for  the  July 
Quarter  Sessions,  1856,  ''cannot  but  be  considered  eminently  satis&ctory.* 

Nevertheless,  compared  with  the  prisons  throughout  the  country,  it  will  be  found  far 
fix>m  healthy.  Thus,  in  1853,  the  per  centage  of  sickness  (including  cases  of  "  slight  indis- 
position" as  well  as  "inflrmary  cases"),  for  aU  classes  of  prisoners  in  the  prisons  throughout 
England  and  Wales,  was  27*2;  whilst  the  per  centage  for  the  females  only  was  30*4,  and  for 
the  boys  no  more  than  16'9.  At  Tothill  Fields,  however,  in  the  same  year,  the  per  centage 
for  all  classes  of  pnsoners  was  49*0  (or  nearly  double  that  of  all  England),  whilst  that 


*  TABLB  SHOWING  THB  NTTMBBa  OP  GA8Z8  OF  SICKMZ88,  LXIKAOT,  AITB  DSATH,  IN  THX  OOVBBB  OV 

THB  YSASS  ENDING  X1CHAXLMA8,   1851—^5, 


Cases  of  slight  indisposition 
Infirmary  cases  .      .      . 


1861. 


Total  cases  of  sickness 


Lunatics      ..... 
Pardons  on  medical  grounds 
Deatlis         ..... 
Greatest  number  of  sick  at  any  one  time 


I 

N 


884 
11 


8M 


2,966 
86 


8,053 

2 
1 

4 
13 


8,8M 
97 


3,047 

2 

1, 

5 

16 


1852. 


I 

N 


833 

4 


837 


2,469 
109 


2,578 


t 

1 

6 

13 


I 


3,802 
118 


8,476 

8 

1 

8 

14 


1853. 


i 
I 


759 

4 


763 


2,694 

80 


2,774 


8 
14 


3,453 
84 


3,637 


8 


16 


1854. 


851 

4 


855 


i 


S.6S0 
147 


1855b 


I 


4,471     594 
151        5 


3,767  4,622B  509 


16 
16 


18 
17 


120 


3,1894, 


I 


l9      15 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTIOIT,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


371 


for  the  females  was  50*4,  and  for  the  boys  45*3 — both  considerably  higher  than  the  ratio 
thionghoat  the  country.* 

Bat  it  may  be  hardly  fair  to  contrast  a  metropolitan  prison  with  country  ones ;  still,  even 
when  compared  with  Coldbath  Fields,  it  wiU  be  seen,  by  the  table  giyen  on  the  next  page, 
that  the  sanitary  condition  of  TothiU  Fields  is  certainly  not  super-eminent  ,*  since  the  pro- 
portumate  quantity  of  sickness  at  the  latter  institution  is  more  than  double  what  it  is  at  the 
form^.  The  ratio  of  the  mortality,  as  well  as  that  of  the  pardons  on  medical  grounds,  at  the 
Coldhatii  Fields  House  of  Correction  is,  howeyer,  much  higher  than  at  the  Westminster  one. 

"It  is  indeed  remarkable,"  adds  the  Special  Beport  for  Tothill  Fields  Prison,  ''that 
though  no  less  than  7,763  boys  and  23,392  females  (or  31,145  persons  altogether)  have  been 
committed  to  the  Westminster  prison  during  the  fire  years  (1851 — 56,  both  indusiye),  only 
scren  boys  and  forty  females  have  died." 

•  TABLE  8H0WINO  THE  OaoeS  NUMBER  AND  CSNTBStXAL  PBOPOBTION  OF  CASKS  OF  8ICKHE8S,  PARD0K8  Olf 
MBDICAL  QBOUMDS,  LXmAGfT,  AMD  DEATH,  OCCUBRIKe  THRO17OH0UT  THB  PRISONS  OF  BNOLAND  AND 
"WAUa,  IN  THB  00UB8B  OF  THE  TEAR  1853  :  — 


Total 
Adult. 

Total 
JoTenllc. 

Total 
AduHaad 

jQTenile. 

Totol 

Adult. 

Totol 
Jayenlle. 

Totol 
Adult  and 
JuTonile. 

I.  SlCKNXBS. 

^  Cam  of  Slight  Indit- 
jpoaUion. 

Males 

Females 

23,346 
8,355 

1,998 
828 

25,344 
8,683 

III.   Criminal  Lvna- 

TICS. 

Males 

Females 

Both  Sexes  .... 

Proportion  per  eetit.  of 
Lunatiee     to    Daily 
Average  Prison  Po^ 
pulation. 

Males 

Females 

Both  6exc8  .... 

IV.  Deaths. 

Males 

Females 

Both  Sexes  .... 

Proportion  per  Cent,  of 
Deaths  to  Daily  Aee- 
rage  Prison  Papula- 
tion* 

Males 

Females 

Both  Sexes  .... 

105 
27 

«  •   •   ■ 

•  «    »   • 

•  «   •  • 
«  «  •  • 

•  •  •  • 

10 
2 

< 

105 
27 

132 

132 

BothSexes  .... 

31,701 

2,326 

34,027 

0-7 
0-8 

0-7 
0-8 

Injbrmaiy  Cates, 

tfales 

1  Females 

3,345 
1,049 

\ 

221 
64 

3,566 
1,113 

Both  sexes    .... 

1 

4,394 

285 

4,679 

,  Aa  Ciues  of  Sickneu. 
Males 

Females 

1 

26,691 
9,404 

86,095 

2,219 
8Q2 

28,910 
9.796 

0-79 

0-79 

178 
20 

188 
28 

BothSexes  .... 

^roportum  per  Cent,  of 
Sickneu  to  grou  FH- 
UH  FoptdiUion. 

Males 

Female 

BothSexes  .... 

II.  Pardons  on  Hedi- 
CAi.  Grovnds. 

Males 

Females 

BothSexes   .... 

proportion  per  Cent,  of 
Pardons  on  Medical 
Oromdo     to     l>aihf 

Males 

Females 

2,611 

38,706 

275 
84*5 

16-9 
16-4 

26*2 
30-4 

'  204 

12 

216 

.... 
.  •  • . 

.... 

•  •      V     • 

•  *   •  • 

•  •   •   • 

1-3 
0-7 

28-4 

16-8 

27-2 

63 
14 

■  ■ .  • 
.  * .  • 

.  •  •  • 

.  •  •  ■ 

•  •  •  • 

■  •  • . 

63 
14 

1-29 

77 

77 

0-4 
0-4 

0-4 
0-4 

BothSexes  .... 

0-4 

0-4 

372 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOJ^. 


Kow>  this  gives  a  gross  mortality  of  47 ;  and  as  the  ayerage  nuiiiber  of  priflonen  for 
the  same  period  has  been  250  boys  and  531  females,  or  781  altogether,  we  find  that  the 
ratio  of  mortality  among  the  boys  was  2*8  per  cent,  for  the  whole  period,  or  0*56  per  aminm, 
and  among  the  females  7*5  for  the  whole  period,  or  1*5  per  annum,  whilst  for  the  prison 
generally  the  ratio  was  6*0  throughout  the  aboye-mentioned  quinquenniad,  and  1*2  for  each 
year  of  it  respectively — a  proportion  which  is  certainly  0*1  lower  than  that  at  Coldbath 
Fields,  and  considerably  less  than  at  MLllbank  (where  the  annual  rate  of  mortality  is  as  high 
as  6^91  per  100  of  the  average  number  of  prisoners)  or  the  Hulks  (where  it  is  2*4  per  oent.)i 
though  hardly  so  low  as  at  Pentonville  or  Brixton — ^the  yearly  ratio  being  1*1  at  the  former 
institution,  and  10  at  the  latter. 

''  The  small  number  of  deaths  which  have  taken  place,"  adds  the  Report,  with  high 
Christian  consideration,  ''  is  the  more  surprising,  when  it  is  considered  that  thousands  who 
enter  the  prison  are  persons  leading  an  abandoned  Hfe,  or  in  a  comparative  state  of  destitu- 
tion, dwelling  in  localities  where  the  houses  or  tenements  are,  in  numerous  instances,  imfit 
for  human  habitation,  subject  to  every  kind  of  deprivation  and  ill  treatment,  and  to  whom 
acts  of  care  and  words  of  kindness  are  almost  unknown,*'  Still  the  deaths  at  Tothill  Fields,  in 
comparison  with  the  average  population,  are  not  only  lower  than  at  any  metropolitan  prison 
with  which  we  have  yet  dealt,  but,  it  will  be  seen  below,  they  are  even  less  than  they 
are  throughout  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  ;*  and  it  should  be  added,  that  though  the 
Asiatic  cholera  visited  the  Metropolis  in  1854,  only  five  died  at  this  prison  ttom  its  effects, 


*   TABLE  SHOWING  THB  NTJMBEa  OF  CASES  OF  LUNAOT  AKD  DBAIH  IN  THE  FBISONS  OF  ALL  BNOLAMD  AND 

WALES,   IN  BACH  TBAB,   FBOX   1841 — 63,  BOTH  INCLUSIVB : — 


Proportion 

Years. 

Total  Prlflon 

Population  in 

England  Sc  WalM. 

No.  of  Priflonen  In 
England  *  Walea. 

Knmber  of 
Criminal 

1 

Mroent.or 

Xonatioeto 

Daily  ATsrace 

Mamberof 

Priflonera. 

Kunberof 
Deatba.* 

per  Cent,  of 

DeatUto 

DailT  ATeiage 

Ninnberof 

PrfeoBen. 

/1841 

140,764 

16,446 

79 

'61 

231 

1-60 

1842 

163,136 

16,718 

76 

•46 

214 

128 

1843 

162,446 

17,218 

64 

•39 

227 

1-32 

1844 

143,979 

16,062 

96 

•60 

140 

•87 

1 

1845 

124,110 

13,166 

99 

•76 

143 

109 

England 

1846 

128,236 

12,979 

92        * 

•71 

107 

•82 

AND        1847 

131,949 

14,021 

96 

•69 

201 

1-43 

Wales.' 

1848 

160,369 

16,627 

89 

•64 

267 

1-60 

1849 

166,942 

18,288 

68 

•37 

841 

1-86 

1860 

160,996 

17,026 

119 

;    •«» 

200 

117 

1861 

166,794 

19,249 

101 

1         '^3 

161 

•84 

1862 

149,326 

17,679 

108 

•61 

184 

106 

\1868 

i 

142,167 

16,691 

132 

•79 

216 

1-29 

Annual  M 

ean .  . 

146,862 

16,236 

94 

•69 

202 

1-24 

•  Tbe  Criminal  Lnnatloa  and  Deaths  exhibited  in  this  table  do  not  include  thoae  that  haTB  oeeonred  ia  the  prinaa  vt 
Parkhurst,  PentouTiUe,  and  MiUbank,  which  were  enumerated  In  the  tables  prerioos  to  181S.— (ilTel*  to  tU  Jfmottmtk  Mtfri 
nS  Itupeeton  ofPrimmtf  p.  zxrll.) 

TABLE  SHOWING  THE   CENTESIXAL  PROPORTION  OF  SICKNESS,  LT7NACT,  DEATHS,   &0.,  TO  THE  PRISON  POPU- 
LATION OF  TOTHILL  FIELDS  AND  C0U>BATH  FIELDS,  FOB    THE  TBAB  1864-66,  AND  ALL  BMOLAND  AVD 


WALES,  FOB  1863,  &0. 


Number  of  oases  of  sickness  to  erery  100^ 
of  the  groes  prison  population,  for  the  I- 
year  ending  Michaelmas,  1865       -       -  j 

Number  of  lunatiea  to  erery  100  of  the\ 
daily  arerage  population  for  the  same  L 
year        ------       -J 

Number  of  pardons  on  medical  grounds  \ 
to  CTery  100  of  daily  atvrage  population  I- 
for  the  fame  year  -       -       -       -       - ) 

Number  of  deaths  to  erery  100  of  daily  \ 
arerage  population  for  the  same  year.     ] 


Boys. 

27*8 


0*0 


0-0 


or 


TOTHILL  rXBLDa. 

Females*    «  Total. 


Adult  Malea. 


6S-t 


0*0 


0*0 


10 


SS'O 


0*0 


Oi) 


C*80 


COLDBATH 

nauM. 
21-8 


OH) 


ALL  WfMAMB 

AVD 


S6-I 


•M 


!•© 


V% 


vu 


HOTJSE  OF  COEBECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


873 


and  that  these  deaths  are  included  in  the  forty-seven^  before  given,  as  having  occurred  be- 
tween 1851 — 55. 

The  Special  Beport  fiirther  tells  us,  that  '*  only  eleven  cases  of  insanity  have  occurred  in 
the  five  years.  Five  of  these/'  it  is  said,  ''  came  into  the  prison  under  circumstances  which 
indnced  the  visiting  justices  to  suspect  the  mind  to  be  in  some  degree  affected ;  thus  proving 
that  the  system  pursued,  and  the  discipline  observed,  is  prejudicial  neither  to  the  mind  nor 
to  the  body."  Now  this  amount  of  insanity,  compared  with  the  annual  average  number  of 
female  prisoners,  will  be  found  to  be  at  the  rate  of  only  0  41  per  cent,  per  annum,  whilst 
the  annual  average  proportion  of  lunacy  for  all  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  is  not  less 
than  0*59  in  every  100  prisoners. 

It  now  only  remains  for  us  to  contrast  the  ratio  of  punishmmte  at  this  prison,  with  that 
of  the  several  prisons  throughout  the  country.  The  following  table  exhibits  the  number  and 
per  centage  of  the  different  kinds  of  punishments  inflicted  in  all  other  penal  institutions : — 

TABLE  SHdWIKO  THX  TOTAL  KTJXBBB  AMD  PBR  CBMTAOB  OP  PUinBHinnn'S,  POU  GfPBNCIS  IK  ALL  THB 
PIU80N8  OP  BKOLAin)  Aim  WALBB,  IN  THB  00UB8B  OP  THB  TBAB  1863. 


Tvmwuuntn, 


I 


1.  Stmdeufk  and  other  irons. 

Females 
Both  Bezes  • 

2.  Whipping. 

Males  . 
Females 
Both  sexes  . 

3.  Lmrh  eOU. 

Males  •  , 

Females 
Bothsexes  . 

Males  • 
Females 
Both  tezes  . 

5.  Steppage  of  dkt. 

Males .        .        •        < 

Females 

Both 


6.  Other  puni$hmntt$. 

Males . 
Females 
Both  sexes  . 

7.  Toua. 

Males . 

Females 

Both 


AfiDiff  Pauoxxaa. 

Males    ....    96,881 
Females     .    .    .    29,765 


Bothaezes      .  .  126,6M 


i; 

0 

"-A 


70 
14 


84 


115 


115 


5,305 

759 


6,064 


4,438 
981 


5,419 


19,773 
4,630 

24,403 


13,155 
331 


13,486 


42,856 
6,715 


49,571 


t 


0-07 
0  04 


006 


0-1 


01 


5-3 
2*5 


4-7 


4-5 
3-3 


4-2 


20  4 
lo-5 


19-2 


13-5 
1-1 


10-6 


42-2 
22-0 


39*4 


JUYXNXLX  PbISOXIXB. 

Males    ....    18,110 
Females     .    .    .      3,396 

Bothsexes.    .    .    18,510 


g. 

0 


5 
1 


6 


58 


1,610 
101 


58 


1,711 


1,146 
104 


1,250 


11,616 
647 


12,26? 


336 
43 


14,771 
896 


379 


15,667 


003 
004 


0-03 


0-4 


0*4 


12-2 
4-2 


110 


8-7 
4-3 


8-0 


Adult  and 
JUTXHILX  PaisoMxas. 

Males    ....  110,006 
Females     .    .    .    82,160 

Bothsexes     .    .  142,166 


"-{% 


a 

0 


75 
15 


90 


173 


6,915 
860 


173 


7,775 


& 


S  a  b 

III 


0  06 
004 


006 


01 


0-1 


6-2 
2  6 


5*4 


88-5 
270 


790 


5,584 
1,085 


6,669 


31,389 
5,277 


36,666 


2-5 
1-8 


2-4 


111-8 
37-4 
1011 


13,491 
374 


13,865 


57,627 
7,6  U 


65,238 


50 
3-3 


4-6 


28-5 
16-4 


25-7 


12-2 
1-1 


9-7i 


52-3 
236 


461 


874 


THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDOlf . 


A  glance  down  the  columns  of  the  aboye  table  will  show  ub  that  the  young  priBoners  are 
far  more  frequently  punished  than  the  old  ones ;  for,  whilst  only  19  in  every  100  of  the  aduU 
prison  population  had  their  diet  stopped  in  1853,  as  many  as  79  in  every  100  of  the  ^^uvenilet 
suffered  that  form  of  punishment.  The  stoppage  of  diet,  too,  will  be  seen  to  oonatitate 
the  most  frequent  of  all  the  penal  inflictions  to  which  recourse  is  had  in  the  Tarious  prisons 
throughout  the  country;  for  it  will  be  observed,  that  out  of  65,000  punishments  in  the 
course  of  the  year,  rather  more  than  one-half  of  the  number,  or  36,000,  consisted  of  a 
reduction  of  the  ordinary  supply  of  food.  Again,  it  will  be  found  that  though  there  were 
only  4  adult  prisoners  in  every  100  placed  in  dark  cells,  there  were  as  many  as  11  javemles 
sindlarly  treated ;  and  that,  whilst  8  in  every  100  young  prisoners  were  confined  in  solitaiy 
cells,  not  more  than  4  adults  underwent  the  same  correction.  Further,  the  number  of  adults 
whipped  was  only  1  in  the  1,000,  whilst  of  the  juveniles  subjected  to  the  same  castigation 
the  proportion  was  four  times  as  great.  Indeed,  a  comparison  of  the  total  number  of  punish- 
ments inflicted  on  the  old  and  young  teaches  us,  either  that  the  juvenile  prisoners  are 
much  more  difficult  to  manage  than  the  adults,  or  else  that  they  are  more  tyrannically  treated 
by  their  jailers ;  for,  whereas  there  are  altogether  only  39  punishments  inflicted  on  each 
century  of  adult  prisoners,  there  are  upwards  of  100  punishments  to  every  century  of  juvenile 
ones. 

As  regards  the  difference  in  the  coercive  treatment  to  which  male  and  female  prisoners 
are  subject,  it  will  be  perceived  that  the  women  and  girls  are,  in  aU  cases,  less  severely 
dealt  with  than  are  the  men  and  boys ;  for  instance,  the  gross  total  of  punishments  in  the 
forgoing  table  shows  that  52  per  cent,  of  the  male  prisoners  are  pxmished,  and  only  23  per 
cent,  of  the  females. 

Having,  then,  arrived  at  the  &ct  that  the  average  proportion  of  pxmishments  throughout 
the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  is  42  per  cent,  for  the  aduU  male  prisoners,  and  but  22| 
per  cent,  for  the  athitt  f&maiea,  whilst  it  is  nearly  112  per  cent,  for  ^efuvmile  maU 
prisoners,  and  37^  for  the  juvmde  female  ones,  let  us  proceed  to  apply  this  knowledge  to 
the  ratio  of  punishments  prevalent  at  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction,  witb  a  view  to 
discover  whether  the  treatment  at  that  prison  be  mild  or  severe.  The  subjoined  tables, 
taken  from  the  last  Special  Eeport  of  the  Yidting  Justices,  will  enable  us  to  make  the  requi- 
site comparison : — 

TABLS   BHOWENO    TKB  NmCBBR  AND    FEB  CBXTAOB   07    PT7KT8HXBNT8  AT    TOTHILL   FIBLSfl    PBISOK,    AXD 
AlfiO  THBIB  BXCBBS  OB  DBFTOTBNCT  JX  OOXPABIBON  WITH  THB  PBIB0N8  07  BNGLAHI)  AND  WALB8. 


BOYS. 


PUKIBKMXim. 


1.  Handcufib  &  other 

iroxiB   .... 

2.  Whippings  .    .    . 

3.  D«rk  cells  .    .    . 

4.  Solitary  ditto  .    . 

5.  Stoppage  of  diet  . 

6.  Other  pimishments 

Total  .    . 

Committals  during 
the  Tear .    . 


Number  Pnniahed  in  Each  Year. 


1851. 


5 
4,766 


4,760 


1,772 


1853. 


1 

3 

6,817 


6,822 


1,841 


185S. 


7 
7,303 


7,314 


1,688 


1864. 


4 
6,760 


6,764 


1,882 


1855. 


1 
6,769 


6,770 


1,909 


I 


S 


3 

2 

1 

20 

31,394 


31,420 


9,087 


III 


r 


►  ftg 


0-6 
0*4 
0-2 
40 
6278-8 


62840 


1817-4 


003 
002 
001 
0-22 
3*46 


3-46 


0*03 

0-40 
12*20 

8*70 
88*60 

2*60 


.«3 

4r 


0-0 

038 
12-19 

8*48 
86*06 

2-60 


111*80 


—  108*35 


I 


HOUSE  OF  COEBECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


875 


FEMALES. 


PnniBKiXT*. 


I.  Hindooffil  ft  other 
irons  •  .  •  • 
IDirkoeUs  .  .  . 
3.  Scditaiy  ditto  .  . 
i.  Stoppage  of  diet  . 
5.  OtherpQxuBhinents 

Total  .    . 

Gommittals  during 
the  Tear  .    . 


Number  Ponialied  in  Each  Year. 


IMl. 


5 

15 

108 

1,700 


1,828 


5,082 


1852. 


3 

28 

188 

1,523 


1,687 


5,343 


IBM. 


6 

40 

239 

1,948 


2,233 


5,506 


1854. 


18 

51 

76 

2,358 


2,503 


5,753 


18A5. 


55 

90 

2,041 


2,186 


5,359 


9> 

HI 


32 

189 

646 

9,570 


10,437 


27,043 


^.n 


s 

^ 


6-4 

37-8 

129*2 

19140 


2087-4 


5408*6 


SBS 


012 

0-69 

2*38 

35-38 


38-57 


0-04 
2-60 
3-30 
16-40 
1-10 


23-60 


+  0-08 

—  1-91 

—  0-92 
4-  18-98 
— .  1-10 


14-97 


Here,  then,  it  may  be  noted  that  the  pTmishmentB  inflicted  on  the  boy  prisoners  are 
strikingly  hel&w  the  average  of  all  other  prisons,  whilst  those  to  which  the  females  are 
sabject  are  oonsiderably  alave  the  mean.  Indeed,  so  extremely  small  is  the  per  centage  of 
ptimshments  for  the  boys  at  this  prison,  when  compared  with  the  high  ratio  for  the  same 
daas  of  prisoners  throng^ont  England  and  Wales,  that  we  must  own  it  appears  to  us,  if 
the  necessary  discipline  of  a  jail  can  be  maintained  among  boys  at  the  low  rate  of  3*45 
ponishments  per  hundred  prisoners  (as  at  Tothill  Fields),  there  must  be  something  like 
wanton  severity  exercised  upon  the  younger  male  prisoners  throughout  the  coxmtry  gene- 
rally, in  order  to  raise  the  proportion  of  punishments  as  high  as  1 12  per  cent. 

For  our  part,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  confess  that  we  consider  the  low  rate  of  punishment, 
preraknt  in  the  juvenile  male  part  of  Tothill  Fields  prison,  to  be  a  high  honour  to  all  the 
authorities  in  connection  with  that  establishment ;  for  we  believe  that  that  prison  govern- 
ment IB  the  best  which  maiutaius  order  and  discipline  among  the  prisoners  with  a  mini' 
mum  amount  of  penal  inflictions.  8ome  people  there  are,  who  are  of  opinion  that  our  prisons 
are  being  rendered  so  near  akin  to  schools,  as  to  hold  out  to  the  poor,  by  means  of  the  com- 
forts attainable  within  them,  almost  a  premium  to  be  criminal.  We  incline  partiy  to  the  same 
opinion,  and  have  assuredly  no  desire  to  strip  the  prison  of  its  character  as  a  place  of  ''pmi- 
tentimy  amendment."  It  is  our  impression  that  there  is  a  strong  and  injurious  disposition 
abroad,  now-a-days,  to  convert  our  jails  into  institutions  for  inducing  mere  moral  reformation 
rather  than  penance ;  that  is  to  say,  there  is  a  wish  current  through  a  large  part  of  the  com- 
mnniiy  to  give  our  prisons  an  educational  instead  of  a  penal  character,  and  to  endeavour  to 
make  our  criminals  better  men  by  means  of  scholastic  and  industrial  training,  rather  than 
by  sorrow  and  contrition,  as  though  it  were  thought  better  to  inform  the  head  than  to  soften 
the  heart  and  chasten  the  spirit. 

This  appears  to  us  to  be  the  great  criminal  mistake  of  the  day ;  but  while  we  believe 
that  it  is  neoessary,  not  only  for  the  due  regulation  of  society,  but  also  for  the  weU-being 
even  of  the  criminals  themselves,  that  a  prison  should  be  made  something  else  than  a  place  of 
mere  intellectual  improvement  (or  '^reformation"  as  it  is  called),  as  well  as  '' incapacitation" 
for  the  criminal,  nevertheless  we  are  no  advocates  for  the  exercise  of  unnecetsary  and 
irre^pinmliU  power  on  the  part  of  the  authorities  within  the  prison  walls.  The  punish- 
ment that  every  man  has  to  suffer  for  an  infraction  of  the  laws  should  be  made  a  matter  of 
public  judgment,  and  the  offender  left  as  littie  as  possible  to  the  private  sense  of  justice 
of  any  individual  afterwards,  so  that  only  such  penalties  should  be  enforced  in  a  prison  as 
are  abeolutely  requisite  for  ensuring  the  prisoner's  conformity  to  the  discipline  of  the 
establishment.  It  is  for  these  reasons  that  we  consider  all  concerned  in  the  management  of 
the  juvenile  male  portion  of  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction,  to  be  entitled  to  the 


376  THE  GREAT  VORLD  OF  LONDON. 

highest  praise — ^magistrates,  govemori  warders,  and  all;  for,  so  feur  as  our  experience  goes, 
it  is  the  prison  in  which  strict  discipline  is  maintained  at  the  expense  of  the  lowest  amount 
of  physical  coercion. 

We  wish  the  returns  would  allow  us  to  say  as  much  for  the  femaU  portion  of  the  same 
establishment.  The  statistics,  however,  show  us,  strange  to  say,  that  the  punishments  ia 
connection  with  this  portion  of  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction  are  almost  doable  as 
much,  proportionally,  as  they  are  throughout  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales ;  for  it  will 
be  seen,  on  reference  to  the  tables  above  given,  that  whilst  there  are  only  4  in  every  10,000 
female  prisoners  placed  in  handcuffs  in  all  other  jails,  the  ratio  is  three  times  as  high  at 
Tothill  Fields,  viz.,  12  in  the  10,000.  Again,  at  this  prison,  35  females  in  every  100  have 
their  diet  stopped  in  the  course  of  the  year,  whilst  only  16  in  the  100  are  so  treated  at  other 
penal  institutions ;  so  that  whilst  the  ratio  of  punishments  to  the  number  of  female  prisoners 
amounts  to  but  little  more  than  23  per  cent.,  as  an  average  for  all  the  prisons  of  England 
and  Wales,  it  is  upwards  of  half  as  much  again,  or  38^  per  cent,  at  the  Westminster 
House  of  Correction. 

Still,  nietropolitan  female  prisoners  may  be  more  difficult  to  control  than  provincial  ones, 
and  certainly  the  punishments  at  this  prison  are  but  slight  in  comparison  with  those 
inflicted  at  Srixton,  for  there  the  ratio  is  nearly  five  times  as  high  as  at  Tothill  Fields,  as 
may  be  seen  by  the  subjoined  comparative  statement : — 

TothiU  Fields  Prison.    Brixton  Prison. 

Per  centage  of  Female  Prisoners  placed  in  handcuffs  0*12  4*83 

Ditto                    ditto            in  dark  cells    .         .  0*69  43*55 

Ditto                    ditto            in  solitary  cells        .  2*38  5*13 

Ditto                    ditto            stoppage  of  diet       .  35*38  50*90 

Ditto                   ditto     "       other  punishments  .  77*86 

Per  centage  of  all  kinds  of  punishment  to  |        38-57  1  ftQ.07 

the  gross  prison  population    .     .     .     . )  loZ'Zl 

It  should,  however,  in  fairness,  be  remembered  that  Brixton  is  a  '^  long-term  prison,'* 
being  appropriated  solely  to  those  females  who  have  been  sentenced  either  to  transportation 
or  penal  servitude. 


Of  the  Boy  Prison  at  Tothill  Fields  and  Boy  Prisoners  generally. 

Before  dealing  with  the  convict  prisons  of  the  Metropolis,  we  proceeded  to  sum  tip  the 
gross  convict  population  of  the  country  generally,  and  to  compare  it  with  that  of  the  Capital 
in  particular.  The  separation  of  the  male  prisoners  in  the  Middlesex  Houses  of  CorrectiaD 
into  adult  and  juvenile^  and  the  appropriation  of  a  special  prison  to  the  boy  criminals  of  the 
metropolitan  county,  renders  it  expedient,  for  the  due  comprehension  of  the  subject  at 
present  in  hand,  that  we  should  set  before  the  reader  some  statement  as  to  the  extent  of 
the  boy  prison  population  throughout  England  and  Wales. 

Those  who  have  never  looked  into  the  matter  will,  doubtlessly,  be  startled  to  learn 
that  the  average  number  of  juvenile  prisoners  annually  ''passing  through"  the  jails  of  the 
entire  country  amounts  to  no  less  than  11,749  ;  so  that  if  our  gross  prison  population^  under 
seventeen  years  of  age,  were  to  be  collected  together  into  one  town,  they  would  be  soificient 
to  fill  a  city  as  large  as  that  of  Bedford,  Stafford,  Preston,  Salisbury,  or  Bamsgato,  and  be 
found  very  nearly  equal  to  half  the  population  of  the  entire  county  of  Eutland. 

The  following  table  shows  the  number  of  juvenile  prisoners  for  a  series  of  vearSy  as  well 
as  the  centesimal  proportion  of  such  offenders  to  the  rest  of  the  prison  population  throughout 


HOUSE  or  COBKECnOK,  JOTffTTiL  iTIllLDS. 


877 


Sogland  tt&d  Waled ;  and  it  will  be  seen  theMby  that  ^^finmi^  priaoneifi  Or^  about  10  p^ 
cent.,  and  tbe  aduli  about  90  per  cent.,  of  the  gross  prison  population.*  Tbe  prope^db, 
howdrer,  of  the  juyenile  to  the  adult  members  of  the  entire  oommunitj  is  aH  40  to  60 


*  TIBLV  8HOWIKO  THV  NtlCBBBS  AND  CtNtttlMll  PROFORTIOiT  OF  iTTrVRVtA  Ol^FtNVllttS  AlTD  Al^ULTS 
BTJHXAIULT  OOimCTKD  AND  TRIBD  AT  SB8SI0KS  AKD  ASSltM,  TIIROVOUOVT  BTVItAND  MXm  'VTAIiSS,  YOli 
EACH  T2A&  F&OM   1841 — 1863. 


* 

JuTenile  prisoners,  or  thoee  under  l1  years  of  age. 

AdoH  prisoners. 

Onuid  total 
•QQitikiid 
JtiTenU^ 
priftinertol 
voth  texBh 
la  EnslMiO 
auA  V\afc«. 

Vader  la 

12  jnn  Md 
uuder  1«. 

14  rears  m4 
widor  17. 

Total. 

Tot«l 
both 
■ezet. 

17  f9»tt  and 

upward*. 

Total 

both 

lexet. 

f 

916 

1 
178 

1989 

• 

821 

1 

(M 

J 

1 

1668 

1 

1 

jlSil— !^uinb«rs     .    .    . 

j.982 

1169 

8837 

10,606 

60,666 

19,211 

79.876 

90,381 

Pereentage  to  gross , 
prisoD  population '■ 

1-32 

•86 

2-86 

1-6^ 

8^63 

6^60 

12-71 

7-99 

10-36 

87-29 

92-01 

89-66 

1 00^00 

1842— Numben     .    .    . 
,           PercaUage,    .    » 

1013 
1-26 

218 
102 

2233 
2^78 

305 
1^43 

6636 
8-26 

1196 
6-59 

9884 

12-30 

1718 
8-04 

11,002 
10-17 

70,428 

87-70 

19^2 
91-96 

90,066 
89-83 

101^7 

lOOHK) 

IMS-NmnberB    .    .    . 
Per  eeiUaffe .     .    . 

996 
1-21 

186 
•88 

2162 
2-63 

271 
l-2t 

6818 
8-38 

1289 
6-08 

99vi 
1217 

1746 
8-24 

11,718 
10*21 

71,910 

87-8^ 

19^444 
91-76 

91,864 
89-79 

10S/)87 
100-00 

1844— Numbers    .    .    . 
Per  ceaiage .     .    . 

984 
1-27 

148 
•7:^ 

2166 
2-79 

802 
^•46 

6892 
8-91 

1294 
6-26 

10,032 
12-97 

1744 
8-44 

11,776 
10-71 

67,288 
8703 

18,921 
91-66 

86,204 
89-29 

97,980 
100^00 

1845—Naiiibera     .    .    . 
Per  cetUage  .     .     . 

820 
1-16 

146 
•71 

1780 
2^6l 

182 

•90 

6486 
9-09 

1290 
6-96 

9086 
12-76 

1637 

7-66 

10,678 
10-16 

61,789 
87-24 

l8^7dB 
92-44 

80«662 
89-84 

9ia26 
100-90 

1846— Nombers     .    .    . 
Per  emtiage ,    .    . 

946 
1^9 

126 
•6. 

1826 
2-69 

229 
1-04 

6467 
9-62 

1247 
6-68 

9239 
13-60 

1602 
7-29 

10,841 
10-46 

68,728 
.86-40 

20,868 
92-71 

79,091 
89-66 

89,982 
100-00 

1 

I847-»irfimben    .    .    . 
Per  oentage  .     .     . 

1107 
1-62 

167 

•73 

2067 
2-84 

804 
1-33 

7202 
9-89 

12-27 
6-37 

10,880 
14-26 

1698 
7-43 

12,078 
10-84 

62,413 

21,129 
92-57 

83^2 
89-16 

96,620 
10000 

1848-^Ninnber8     .    .    . 
Per  ctniage  ,    .    . 

1832 
1-60 

216 
•84 

2633 
297 

401 
167 

7899 
8-90 

1317 
6-16 

11,866 
18-37 

1933 
7-66 

18.799 
10-47 

76,907 
86-63 

23,661 
92-44 

100/168 
89-63 

114,867 
100-00 

1849— Xmnbers    .    .    . 
Per  caOage  .    .     . 

12.56 
1-36 

176 

-62 

2647 
2-76 

866 
1-36 

7244 
7-81 

1866 
6-08 

11,048 
11-91 

1907 
7-06 

12,966 
9-49 

81,746 
88-09 

26*016 
92-94 

106,760 

90-51 

•746 

96 

90*87 

119,716 
100-00 

I850-^Namber8    .    .    . 
Per  eentage  .     .     . 

1107 
1-34 

166 
•68 

2296 
2^77 

818 

1-29 

6288 
7-69 

1106 
4-66 

9728 
11-72 

1695 

e-63 

11,326 
913 

73,081 
86-28 

22,664 
93  47 

107,071 
100-00 

,  1861^Xnniber8    .    .    . 
)           Per  eentage  .     .    . 

1181 
1-37 

206 
•84 

2893 
2-77 

329 
1-34 

6888 
.7-97 

1296 
.6-27 

10,462 
Wll 

1880 
7<41 

12.292 
9-76 

75,946 
87-89 

22,72F 
92-69 

98,674 
90-24 

110,966 
100-00 

1 1852— Numbers     .    .    . 
Per  eektage  .    .    , 

1121 
1-40 

193 
•81 

2294 
2-87 

896 
1-66 

6604 
8.26 

1214 
6-08 

10,019 
12^62 

1802 
7-64 

11,821 
10-08 

69,997 
87-48 

22,079 
92-4e 

92.076 
89-97 

108,897 
10000 

1863— Numbers    .    .    . 
Per  ceniage  .    .     . 

1263 
1-69 

243 
•99 

2116 
2-86 

886 
1-68 

6291 
8-61 

1165 
4-76 

9669 
1806 

1794 
7-38 

11,463 
10-20 

64,^ 
86-94 

22,692 
92-67 

86,^1 
89-80 

98,384 
100-80 

AddoaI  mean  of  all  classes 

of  prisoners— botb  sum  • 

marilj  convicted   and 

tried  at  sessions— 

Numbers    .... 

'        Per  eeniage  to  the') 

total  number  oftbe  ■ 

1079 
1-37 

182 
•79 

2191 
2-78 

316 
1-36 

6738 
8-68 

1244 
6-42 

10,012 
12^73 

ir37 
7-67 

11,749 
10-16 

68,884 
87-27 

• 

21,^6 
92-48 

90,116 
89-85 

101,869 
100-00 

1         same  age  in  prison) 

:Aonual  mean  of  those 

summarily  conyicted— 

Numbers   .... 

Per  eentage     .    .    . 

Aminal  mean  of  those 

tried   at   assizes  and 

892 
82-66 

149 
81-86 

1737 
79^27 

233 
7378 

4944 
73^87 

• 

864 
69-66 

76-67 

1248 
71-84 

8826 
76-11 

49,066 
71-24 

16,266 
76-47 

66^10 
72-47 

74.134 
72-78 

sessions- 
Numbers   .... 
Per  eentage    ... 

187 
17-84 

3d 
18-14 

464 
2fy7Z 

a6^7 

1793 
26'e8 

374 
8046 

$435 
24-88 

489 
28-16 

29^4 
24*89 

19,800 
28-7^ 

6000 
23-68 

^,800 
28-63 

27,726 
27-22 

2T 


878  THE  GEEAT  WOKLD  OF  LONDON. 

in  every  100  peraonS;  or,  in  the  aggregate,  as  seren  millionB  to  eleven  millions  of  indi- 
viduals. 

Now,  a  carefdl  study  of  the  above  statistical  data  will  lead  us  to  the  following 
fects: — 

Ist.  That  the  juvenile  female  prisoners  bear  a  less  proportion  to  the  aduU  female  ones 
(the  one  being  7^  per  cent.,  and  the  other  92|  per  cent.,  of  the  whole  of  the  female  prison 
population)  than  do  the  juventle  male  criminals  to  the  aduH  malee  of  the  same  dass;  for, 
with  the  latter,  the  mean  centesimal  proportion  is  as  12f  to  87^. 

2nd.  That,  under  12  years,  the  young  male  criminals  are  not  quite  1^  per  cent.,  and  the 
young  females  of  the  same  age  only  a  fraction  more  than  f  per  cent.,  of  the  gross  number 
of  males  or  females  throughout  the  prisons;  whilst,  between  12  and  14  years  of  age,  the 
young  males  are  about  2f  per  cent.,  and  the  young  females  about  1^  per  cent.,  of  the  entire 
number  of  prisoners  belonging  to  either  sex;  whereas,  between  14  and  17  years  of  age, 
the  young  male  prisoners  are  about  8^  per  cent.,  and  the  young  females  5^  per  cent.,  of  the 
whole. 

drd.  That  about  three-fourths  of  the  entire  number  of  prisoners  confined  within  the 
prisons  are  summarily  eonvieted;  and  whilst  72  in  every  100  aduU  prisoners  are  committed  by 
the  magistrates,  there  are  rather  more,  or  76  in  every  100,  of  the  aggregate/MMMf%  ofBrnders 
so  dealt  with,  and  upwards  of  80  in  every  100  similarly  treated,  when  the  offenders  are  of 
very  tender  years. 

The  juvenile  criminal  population  passing  through  the  correctional  prisons  of  London, 
in  the  course  of  the  year,  would  appear  to  be  dose  upon  2,500  in  number;  for  fiK>m  the 
Nineteenth  Beport  of  the  Prison  Inspectors  we  gather  the  following  figures : — 

HalM.  Venules,         Both 

Number  of  juvenile  prisoners  in  the  Westminster  )  ■    .  . .«  ^^^  -  ^^ 

House  of  Correction,  Tothill  Fields  .        .)        '  ^^'  *'®^* 

Number  of  juvenile  prisoners  in  the  Surrey  House  |         -^^  g. 

of  Correction,  Wandsworth 
Number  of  juvenile  prisoners  in  the  City  House 
of  Correction,  HoUoway  .... 

Number  of  juvenile  prisoners  in  the  City  Bride- 
well, Bridge  Street,  Blackfiriars 

Total  juvenile  offenders  passing  through  the 
correctional  prisons  of  London 


} 
i 


625 

111      28        139 
162      13        175 

2,265      849      S,614 


In  addition  to  these,  there  are  the  juvenile  offenders  passing  tiirough  the  detentioiial 
prisons  of  the  Metropolis,  and  these,  according  to  the  same  returns,  may  be  quoted  as 

follows : — 

Number  of  juvenile  offenders  passing  through  the  ) 

House  of  Detention,  Clerkenwell  .  .  .  ; 
Number  of  juvenile  offenders  passing  through ) 

Horsemonger  Lane  prison       .  .        •  j 

Number  of  juvenile  offenders  passing  through ) 

Newgate J 


Males. 

Femtlet. 

Belli  nxBfl. 

272 

55 

827 

93 

14 

107 

61 

13 

74 

Total  juvenile  offenders  passing  through  the )  .og  go  sag 

detentional  prisons  of  London  .        .  J 

To  1±Lese,  again,  must  be  subjoined  the  number  of  juvenile  criminals  in  the  ccnnct 
sons;  and,  according  to  the  Qovemmant  returns,  they  would  appear  to  be  as  lUlows: — 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  879 

-_...._.  JMalefc         Females.        Both  lezef. 

JiiimbOT  of  juTenile  pnsonara  passing  ihroiigli)  j-  ^ 

Pentonville  prison ) 

Knmber  of  juvenile  prisoners  passing  ihrongli^  -g^  - .  ^no 

Millbank j 

Knmber  of  juyenile  prisoners  passing  through )  «  ^ 

Brixton j 

Number  of  jnyenile  prisoners  passing  through )  <  ,.^«  ^  « .^ 

the  Hulks,  Woolwich j       _  _  _ 

Total  number  of  juyenile  prisoners  passing  |  « rn  oo  374 

through  the  conyict  prisons  of  London      .  j 

The  metropolitan  acoount,  therefore,  as  to  the  number  of  juyenile  ofiEienders,  stands 
thns:^- 

Paasing  through  the  London  conyict  prisons 374 

t,  „  London  correctional  prisons 2,614 

f,  „  London  detentional  prisons 508 

Total 3,496 

Hence  we  perceive  that  there  are,  in  round  numbers,  3,500  juyemle  criminals  annually 
entering  the  metropolitan  prisons ;  and  of  these  3,043,  or  a  fraction  more  than  87  per  cent., 
are  males,  and  the  remainder  females ;  so  that  the  gross  number  of  juyenile  prisoners  in  the 
Metropolis  would  appear  to  be  very  nearly  29  per  cent.,  or  between  one-third  and  one-fourth, 
of  the  entire  number  throughout  the  country ;  whilst,  if  we  assume  the  total  number  of 
prisoners  (of  all  ages)  passing  through  the  metropolitan  jails  in  the  course  of  the  year,  to 
be  upwards  of  40,000  (see  anU,  p.  83),  we  shfdl  find  that  the  proportion  of  juyemles  to 
adults  is  about  8^  to  91^  in  every  hundred :  consequently,  it  would  appear  that  the  juvenile 
criminals  of  the  Metropolis  bear  a  smaller  proportion  to  the  adults  than  do  those  of  the  entire 
oomitry. 

This  condluBion  is  contrary  to  what  would  have  naturally  been  expected,  for  we  should 
hare  reasoned,  d  prwri,  that  where  there  was  greater  density  of  population,  as  in  the  Capital, 
there  would  probably  have  been  greater  chance  of  contamination,  owing  to  the  association  of 
children  in  the  streets,  and  therefore  a  greater  tendency  to  juvenile  delinquency.  We  are, 
Wever,  still  inclined  to  beUeve— despite  the  returns — that  such  is  the  fact,  and  that  the 
proportion  of  juvenile  criminals  in  London  appears  to  he  lees  than  in  the  country,  simply 
because  the  proportion  of  adult  prisoners  there  is  more.  That  such  is  the  bare  truth  may 
be  proven  in  tiie  following  conclusive  manner: — ^The  number  of  persons  in  England  and 
Wales  who  are  under  seventeen  years  of  age  amounts,  as  we  have  said,  to  7,056,699 
indiriduals,  so  that,  as  there  are  altogether  11,749  criminals  imder  that  age  passing  through 
the  prisons  of  the  cotmtry,  this  gives  a  proportion  of  16-6  criminals  in  every  10,000  of  the 
gross  juvenile  population.  In  London,  however,  the  number  of  persons  under  seventeen  years 
of  age  is  839,057,  whilst  the  number  of  criminals  of  the  same  age,  passing  through  the  prisons 
m  the  course  of  the  year,  is,  as  we  have  seen,  3,496,  and  that  gives  a  proportion  of  41*6 
criminals  in  every  10,000  of  the  juvenile  population  of  London ;  so  that  thus  it  is  demonstrated 
that,  instead  of  the  ratio  of  juvenile  criminals  in  the  Capital  being  less  than  in  the  country 
generally,  it  is  really  more  than  as  much  again.f 

*  There  are  no  retunis  in  the  Govemment  reports  as  to  the  ages  of  prisoners  at  Woolwich;  we  haye, 
thenfoie,  assumed  the  number  to  be  one-tenth  of  tiie  gross  prison  population  there. 

t  It  is  necessary  to  warn  the  reader,  that  the  numbers  here  given  as  the  amounts  of  the  Juyenile  criminal 
population  of  the  country  generally,  represent  not  the  number  of  duimei  juvenile  prisooers,  but  merely  the 
totals  *'paasmg  through"  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  as  well  as  the  Metropolis  in  the  course  of  the  year. 
What  may  be  the  annual  average  number  of  Mwiiml  young  offenders  appearing  in  the  metropolitan 


880  TH?  01W4T  WOBLJ)  OF  LONDON. 

We  land  then,  stttisticallj,  at  the  melanclioly  and  degrading  conclusion,  that  there  are 
altogether  betwe^  11,000  aiid  12,000  juTenile  criminals  annually  passing  through  the 
prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  and  that  between  d.OOO  and  4,000  of  that  number  appear 
in  the  jails  of  the  Ifetropolia ;  ifo  that  eran  if  wa  reduce  these  amounts  one*half,  in  order  to 
allow  for  those  who  enter  the  jails  more  than  once  in  the  course  of  the  twelvemonth  (and 
the  recommittals  during  the  year  ofteii  amount  to  one-third  of  the  whole  prisoners),  as  well 
as  for  those  who  are  passed  after  trial  £rom  the  detentional  to  either  the  correctional  or 
con'vict  prisons  throughout  the  coimtry — ^and  if  we  admit,  too,  that  there  are  only  as  many 
young  thieves  and  vagrants  without  the  walls  of  our  prisons  as  within  them — we  shall  still 
make  tl^e  army  of  pur  boy  ai^d  girl  criminals  amount  to  the  same  prodigious  number.  We 
ourselves,  however,  are  disposed  to  believe  that,  calculating  those  at  large  as  well  as  those 
m  piisoD,  the  numbers  mi^  be  more  oerraatly  stated  at  between  15,000  and  20,000  habitual 
juyenile  delinquents  for  the  country  generally,  and  between  5,000  and  7,000  for  LoadoD 
alone. 

The  question  consequently  becomes,  hew  is  it  that  so  large  a  body  of  young  offenders 
are  continually  associated  with  our  people— Ibr  we  are  speaking  of  no  extraordinary  occasion, 
the  datA  for  the  above  conclusions  having  beep.  di:itwn  from  the  mean  of  several  years  (see 
Table,  p.  877).  Nor  can  we  help  asking  ourselves  what  fate  eventually  befalls  these  young 
gfuduates  in  erime-«4iow  many  are  expatriated  for  their  iniquitiee — ^how  many  die  and  rest 
unrseovded  among  the  gravestoneless  mounds  of  the  convict  and  prison  buiial-groonda— how 
many  settle  do¥ni  ameiig  the  ''  respectable ''  rate-^paying  ''  fences  "  of  the  eountiy — ^how 
many  beoome  the  prc^rieton  of  thieves'  lodging-houses  and  '' padding-kens,"  and  how 
many,  think  you,  good  simple  reader,  are  really  reclaimed  ? 

To  nien  who  puBzle  their  braiiis  with  the  subtle  riddles  of  social  philosophy,  these  arq 
matters  pregnant  with  the  highest  interest,  and  the  mere  flash  of  them  across  the  mind  lights 
maay  a  long  train  ef  taught  in  the  eagerness  of  the  imagination  to  compass  the  magnitode 
of  the  subject.  One  of  the  most  difficult  probleipa  in  ph3rBiology  is  the  principle  of  wasts 
and  supply.  How  are  those  minute  destructions  of  tissue,  that  are  now  known  to  acoompaBy 
every  movement  of  Uie  muscles  and  mind,  continually  repaired  and  renovated,  so  that  our 
£pame  remains  ostensibly  the  same,  as  well  in  its  material  fabric  as  in  sixe  and  weight 
9e,  in  the  seienee  of  social  economics,  it  is  an  inquiry  of  the  highest  moment  as  to  how  the 
great  body  of  outcasts  is  annually  thiuned  and  repaired ;  and  even  as  the  social  phikm^^hsr 
deores  to  know  in  what  manner  the  ranks  of  the  street^walkers  are  maintained  at  the  same 
itsmber  almost  as  regularly  as  the  army  of  the  State,  and  strives  to  learn  what  fate  atteads 

priaoiif}  it  i«  dUfiottlt  even  to  oonjectare ;  for  t]s9  "  B«portB"  afford  ua  but  few  data  for  the  calcnlatioa.  Bj  t 
jceturn,  however,  given  in  the  Report  of  the  Committee  of  Justices  on  javenile  delinqaenctes  in  the  conntj 
of  Surrey,  we  find  that,  out  of  an  annual  average  of  707  juvenile  prisoners  passing  through  the  Soirey  Home 
of  Correction,  no  less  than  257,  or  upwards  of  one-third  of  the  whole,  had  been  re-committed  during  the 
year.  We  must,  therefore,  in  order  to  arrive  even  proximately  at  the  number  of  individoal  juveniles  pswisg 
thiough  the  London  correodonal  piiaons  in  the  oonne  of  each  twdvemonth,  reduee  the  amount  above  givw 
by  at  least  oae-third,  and  this  will  leave  1,743  for  the  gross  number  of  juvenile  criminals  passing  through  the 
liOadom  correctional  prisons  throughout  the  twelvemonths.  Again,  by  a  return  in  the  same  Report^  we  find  that 
out  of  an  annual  average  of  489  juvenile  prisoners  passing  through  the  Surrey  County  Jail  at  Honemonger 
Lane,  no  less  than  238,  or  nearly  50  per  cent  of  the  whole,  were  sent  thence  to  the  Surrey  House  of  Cor- 
reetlen  at  Wandsworth ;  so  that,  if  we  reduee  tiie  number  of  juvenile  prisoners  paasiag  through  the  detea- 
tional  prisons  to  the  same  extent,  we  shall  have  only  254  left  lor  theae  who  do  not  afterwards  appear  ia  the 
returns  of  the  houses  of  correction.  Again,  as  regards  the  convict  prisons,  Millbank  is  the  d^oi  for  sH 
aentenoed  to  transportation  or  penal  servitude,  and  the  juvenile  prisoners  appearing  within  its  walls  sn 
ultimately  transferred  to  some  other  (Government  jail.  The  same  occurs  at  Peotonville,  many  being  rsmoTed 
thflnoe  t»  the  Hulks.  For  these  reasons,  the  number  of  distinct  juvenile  convicts  annnaUj  appearing  in  the 
Qovenuneat  prisons  of  the  Metropolis  may  be  safely  redueed  firom  374  to  300 ;  beaoe  wa  eome  to  the  ooa* 
elusion  that  thera  are  about  2,300,  or,  to  err  on  the  aafe  aide,  2,000,  individual  juvenila  priaoncn  fimhig 
tiuou^  the  LondoB  jails^aad  thia  out  of  a  gtosa  piiaoa  population  of  between  20,000  and  ^09$  penensk 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  381 

the  old  '*unfwiunaM*  (it  is  etarange  how  all  oaetes  of  ermdnals  would  make  out  their  lot  in 
life  to  be  a  matter  of  ill  Inok),  and  whence  come  the  yoxmg  creatures  who  serve  to  recmit 
amraallj  the  great  mafls  of  wantons ;  for  the  fresh  sapplies  are  so  regolarly  added,  that  the 
mind  is  almost  led  to  helieye  that  some  similar  ar^ame  arrangement  exists  in  society  for  the 
leptir  of  the  nsed-np  memhers,  the  same  as  in  the  human  frame  itself.  Thus  it  is,  too,  with 
itut  great  horde  of  thieves  and  vagabonds,  that,  like  a  train  of  camp-followers,  ever  attend 
the  vast  army  of  our  people  on  their  march  towards  "the  good  time/'  and  who,  taking  no 
port  in  the  great  battle  of  life,  stand  by  only  to  plunder  those  who  have  fought  the  %ht. 

The  subject  of  juvenile  crime,  however,  helps  to  strip  the  matter  of  a  considerable 
portion  of  its  difficulty.  It  is  no  longer  hard  to  tell  how  the  predatory  maggot  got  within 
tiie  social  nut,  for  here  we  detect  the  criminal  ovum  lying  in  the  very  blossom  of  the  plant ; 
and  as  in  certain  processes  of  .the  body  we  can  discoyer,  ndcroscopioally,  the  new  tissue  in 
the  coane  of  being  secreted  from  the  blood,  and  see  little  spicules  of  bone  thrown  down,  one 
after  another,  from  tiie  same  mysterious  fluid,  in  the  wondrous  and  beautiful  efforts  of 
nature  to  repair  a  limb— in  like  manner  can  we  behold,  with  the  enlarged  vision  of  ezperi- 
enoe,  how  the  young  criminal  tends  to  renovate  the  wasted  ranks  of  the  old  offenders. 

AH  allow  that  the  juvenile  delinquent  ripens,  in  due  course  of  criminal  fruition,  into  the 
conjSrmed  old  convict,  or  the  more  wily  "  fence;"  and  the  mind,  therefore,  is  pushed  in 
its  reasonings  a  step  further  back,  and  led  to  ask  itself,  if  the  vagrant  child  be  father  to  the 
felon  man,  what  is  the  parentage  of  the  young  yagabond  himself — out  of  what  social  vices  is 
he  batten — ^to  what  defects  in  our  system  should  he  be  affiliated  ? 

Let  us  see! 

Men  have  assigned  almost  as  many  different  causes  for  crime  as  they  have  for  the 
cholera.  The  pestilence  is  due  to  noxious  gases,  say  the  Board  of  Health ;  drunkenness  is 
^  parent  of  all  crime,  cry  the  Total-abstinence  League.  The  epidemic  rages,  one  declares, 
because  there  is  a  deficiency  of  electricity  in  the  atmosphere ;  knowledge  is  power,  another 
fixriainw,  and  ignorance  the  mother  of  aU  evil.  Again,  the  modem  plague  has  been  attri- 
buted by  physicians  to  sporules  of  fungi  floating  in  the  atmosphere — ^to  particles  of  ezcre- 
mentitious  matter  imbibed  in  the  water — ^to  a  deficiency  of  ''ozone"  and  an  excess  of 
"  zymosis  " — as  well  as  to  our  national  iniquities,  it  being  regarded  by  many  as  a  scourge 
from  the  Almighty.  And  so,  in  like  manner,  the  moral  plague  of  crime  has  been  referred  to 
density  of  population — to  poverty — to  yagrancy — ^to  the  temptation  of  large  masses  of  pro- 
perty in  towns — ^to  the  non-observance  of  the  Sabbath — and,  lastly,  to  the  fall  of  man  and 
the  consequent  innate  proneness  of  all  to  evil. 

Some  years  back,  however,  we  took  the  trouble  of  testing  the  greater  number  of  the 
popular  reasons  for  crime,  by  collating  the  statistics  in  connection  with  each  theory,  and  thus 
found  that  none  of  the  receivsd  explanations  would  bear  the  searching  test  of  figures.  Crime 
conld  not  be  referred  to  ignorance,  for  we  discovered  that  in  many  parts  of  the  country  (as, 
for  instance,  l^orth  and  Bouth  Wales,  ComwaU,  Shropshire,  York,  Nottingham,  Rutland, 
Itorthampton,  Bedford,  Huntingdon,  Cambridge,  Suffolk,  and  Berks),  where  the  ignorance 
was  above  the  average,  the  criminality  of  the  people  was  hehw  it ;  and  so,  again,  where  the 
criminality  of  the  people  was  higher  than  the  mean  rate,  as  in  Middlesex,  Oxford,  Warwick, 
Gloucester,  Hants,  &c.,  the  amount  of  ignorance  was  lower  than  ordinary.* 

*  Gloucester,  for  instance,  which  ie  the  most  criminal  of  all  counties,  has  26  criminals  to  every  10,000 
of  the  popolation;  Middlesex,  24);  Warwick,  21;  Oiford,  17;  whilst  the  aTerage  for  all  England  is 
16);  bat  these  counties,  though  the  mat  eriminalf  tested  according  to  the  ratio  of  their  ignorance  (as  proren 
hy  the  number  who  signed  the  marriage  register  with  marks),  are  among  the  moat  highly  educated;  that  is 
to  say,  in  Middlesex  only  18  people  usually  sign  with  marks  out  of  erery  100  married ;  in  Gloucester,  36 
people  in  100  do  so;  in  Warwick,  88;  and  in  Oxford,  89 ;  whereas  the  ayersge  for  all  England  and  Wsles  is 
40.  On  the  other  hand,  in  North  Wales,  which  is  one  of  the  htut  oriminal  districts,  there  are  only  7 
eriminals  in  erery  10,000  of  the  people;  in  Cornwall  there  are  8 ;  South  Wales,  8| ;  York,  11) ;  Notting- 


382  THE  GREAT  WOEXD  OF  LONDON. 

Nor  can  crime,  on  the  other  hand,  be  said  to  be  due  to  the  density  of  popnlation  and 
the  consequent  greater  facilitj  for  inter-contamination  among  the  people;  for,  whilst  tiie 
population  is  mare  than  ordinarily  crowded  in  Surrey,  Kent,  Durham,  and  Nottingham,  in 
these  counties  the  ratio  of  criminals  to  the  population  is  less  than  the  average.  So,  again, 
in  Essex,  Hereford,  Buckinghamshire,  Oxford,  Wilts,  Hants,  Somerset,  Leicester,  and 
Norfolk,  the  number  of  persons  to  the  hundred  square  acres  is  heiow  the  mean,  and  the 
number  of  criminals  to  every  10,000  of  the  population  above  it.* 

We  proved,  moreover,  that  crime  is  not  referable  to  poverty,  aflcertaining,  by  the 
same  unerring  means,  that  in  those  counties  where  the  proportion  of  paupers  is  above  the 
average,  the  proportion  of  criminals  falls  often  below  it,  and  vice  versd.  Nor  could  it  be 
ascribed  to  vagrancy,  for  where  the  poor-law  returns  show  that  there  are  the  greatest 
number  of  persons  relieved  in  the  ''casual  wards"  of  the  several  unions,  the  criminal  returns 
do  not,  on  the  other  hand,  indicate  a  like  excessive  proportion  of  offenders  convicted. 
Further,  the  theory  that  crime  is  due  to  the  temptation  of  large  masses  of  property,  does 
not  hold  good;  for  it  does  not  follow,  according  to  the  returns  for  the  property  and 
income-taXi  that  in  those  districts  where  the  greatest  wealth  abounds  there  also  do 
thieves,  rogues,  and  vagabonds  flourish  to  an  inordinate  degree.  Neither  can  it  justly  be 
said  that  where  there  is  the  greatest  drunkenness  there  is  the  greatest  crime  likewise,  for 
this  theory,  like  the  rest,  will  not  bear  being  tried  by  statistical  records ;  besides,  it  is  a 
well-known  fact,  that  there  is  a  less  proportionate  number  of  criminals  in  Prussia  than 
in  England,  nevertheless,  Mr.  M'CuUoch  teUs  us,  ''that  the  consumption  of  ^irits 
throughout  that  kingdom  is  equal  te  between  forty  and  forty-flve  millions  of  our  imperial 
gallons  in  the  course  of  the  year ;"  and  he  adds,  "  that  it  may  be  worth  while  observing, 
as  illustrative  of  the  habits  of  the  people  of  that  countiy  and  our  own,  that  the.  entire 
quantity  of  British  and  foreign  spirits,  entered  for  home  consumption  in  the  United 
Kingdom  in  1.840^  amounted  to  only  twenty-flve  and  a  half  million  gallons,  notwithstanding 
our  population  is  double  that  of  Prussia.  Indeed,"  he  continues,  "  the  annual  consumption 
of  spirits  in  Prussia  iunounts  to  about  three  gallons  to  each  individual,  whilst  the  consump- 
tion of  Gre^t  Britain  and  Ireland  is  only  about  three-quarters  of  a  gallon  per  head.  The 
consumption  of  beer,  too,  in  Prussia,"  he  says,  "  also  exceeds  its  consumption  in  the  United 
Kingdom  in  a  coirespon^g  proportion." 

ham,  11);  Berks,  nearly  13;  and  Eutland,  nearly  14;  Northampton,  14};  Cambridge,  14^;  Shropahire, 
nearly  15;  Bedford,  15};  and  Suffolk,  15};  all  being  bdow  the  average,  which  is  very  nearly  16)  for  all 
England.  S^iU,  these  counties,  though  the  least  erimifuU,  are  among  the  fnott  iptorant ;  for  though  oat  of 
every  100  married,  only  40,  upon  an  average,  sigpi  the  register  with  marks,  throughout  England  and  Wales, 
there  are  in  8outh  Wales,  57  in  leo  who  do  so;  in  Bedford,  56;  North  Wales,  66 '^  Huntingdon,  49;  Rat- 
land,  49;  Sihropehire,  48;  Suffolk,  48;  Cambridge,  45;  Cornwall,  45;  Tork,  44;  Noithan^ton,  43;  Beiks, 
42;  and  JSTottingham,  42. 

*  The  fiumbers  for  these  4}ounties  were  as  follows : — The  average  number  of  persons  to  every  100  acres 
throughoMt  England  and  Wales  is  497.  In  Surrey,  however,  there  are  44  people  to  every  100  aores ;  in 
Kent,  63;  in  Durham,  62 ;  and  in  Nottingham,  55.  On  the  other  hand,  the  average  number  of  criminals  for 
all  England  and  Wales  is,  as  we  have  said,  16*4  to  every  10,000  of  the  population  ;  in  Durham,  however, 
there  are  only  7*8  criminals  to  every  10,000  people ;  in  Nottingham,  11*8 ;  in  Surrey,  16*3 ;  and  in  Kent, 
16*4 ;  Bp  that  it  cannot  be  asserted  that  the  most  crowded  are  the  moBt  erimmal  plaoes.  Nor,  on  the  ood- 
trary,  are  the  bast  erotcded  places  the  least  erimmal  ones,  for  in  Wiltshire  there  are  only  27*7  perwns  to 
every  10 p  suores;  in  Buckinghamshire,  31'3;  In  Norfolk,  83*3 ;  in  Essex,  34*5 ;  in  Ozford,  37*0;  Hants, 
38  4 ;  Somerset,  43*5 ;  Hertford,  43*5  ;  and  Leicester,  45*4 — all  of  which  are  helew  the  average  density  of 
49*7  for  the  whole  country,  and  yet  these  counties  are  above  the  average  in  criminality ;  for  whilst  thoe 
are  only  10*4  criminals  in  every  10,000  throughout  England,  there  are  17*1  in  the  same  number  of  people 
in  Norfolk;  in  Leicester,  171  also;  in  Hertford,  17*5 ;  in  Hants,  17*7;  in  Oxford,  17*8;  inWiltdi^, 
18-9;  in  Essex,  19*1 ;  in  Somerset,  19*9;  and  in  Buckinghamshire,  20*4.  These  ealcolationa  were  made, 
as  we  have  said,  some  years  ago,  and  before  the  appearance  of  the  oeasns  of  1851 ;  the  avengea  wen, 
in  all  cases,  deduced  from  a  series  of  ten  years. 


TEIIED  FEMALE  PEISONER  AT  THE  eURRET  HOUSE  OP  COBRECTION,  WAMDSWOfiTH. 

(From  ■  Photognpb  bj  Hsrbnl  WitUu,  ITS,  StgtotBlmit.) 


H0U9I:  OF  COHKEOnON,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  »83 

Agm,  the  theory  which  refers  criiae  to  a  breach  of  the  Sabbath  would,  we  feel  aaeured, 
if  tried  by  the  returns  of  the  last  census,  as  to  the  numbers  of  people  attending  service  in 
the  various  ohapeU  and  churches  throughout  the  country  on  a  given  day,  be  found  to  bear 
no  relation  to  the  number  of  criminals  in  the  same  districts.  And,  lastly,  that  religious  con- 
jecture which  dates  all  criminal  offences  as  far  back  as  the  laU  of  man,  appears  to  us  to  err 
in  confounding  crime  with  ein,  and  in  believing  the  breach  of  a  human  law  to  belong  to 
the  same  category  as  the  infraction  of  a  divine  one.  Sin  appears  to  us  to  be  a  human  defect, 
and  crime  a  social  one.  To  the  one  all  men  are  liable,  since  it  is  impossible  for  any  to 
be  perfect;  to  the  other  but  few  are  subject,  and  those  chiefly  who  are  bom  to  the 
hardships  rather  than  the  comforts  of  life;  and,  according  to  Christianity,  it  is  the 
wealthy  who  are  the  most  sinful,  since  we  are  told  that  it  is  as  impossible  for  a  rich  man  to 
eater  the  Idngdom  of  heaven  as  it  is  fi>r  a  camel  to  pass  through  the  eye  of  a  needle; 
whereas,  according  to  Kr.  Bedgrave's  returns,  it  is  mainly  the  poor  and  the  unlettered  who 
behmg  to  the  criminal  classes. 

I^  then,  the  various  popular  conjectures  as  to  the  causes  of  crime  in  this  kingdom  have 
no  truth  in  them,  it  behoves  us  sedulously  to  search  for  some  other  principle  to  which  ike 
existence  of  those  swarms  of  thieves  and  vagabonds,  which  infest  the  country  as  well  as 
the  town,  may  be  referred.  Now,  the  first  thing  that  strikes  the  mind  accustomed  to  take 
broad  and  comprehensive  views  of  such  matters  is,  that  our  nation  is  by  no  means  stnfftUar 
in  having  a  race  of  social  outcasts  surrounding  and  preying  upon  the  industry  of  the  com- 
munity. £ven  the  Hottentots,  we  have  before  said,  have  their  **  sonquas"  and  bushmen,  and 
the  Kafirs  their  **  fingoes,"  to  trouble  their  peace  and  make  firee  with  their  property — ^the 
same  as  we  have  our  vagrants,  pickpockets,  and  burglars.  But  if  to  these  people  went 
one  of  our  social  philosophers,  primed  with  the  fashionable  conjectures  as  to  the  causes 
of  crime  in  a  community,  and  told  them  that  rogues  and  vagabonds  were  due  either 
to  a  non-observance  of  the  Sabbath,  or  to  the  density  of  the  population,  or  to  an  ignorance 
of  reading  and  writing,  or  to  the  fall  of  man,  or  to  the  love  of  intoxicating  Hquors — ^how 
heartily  would  these  same  simple  Kafirs  and  Hottentots  laugh  at  the  narrow  view  such  an 
one  took  of  human  nature  ?  Surely,  even  the  weakest-minded  must  see  that  our  theories 
of  crime,  to  be  other  than  mere  visionaiy  hypotheses,  must  explain  roguery  and  vagabondage 
M  over  ih$  worlds  and  not  merely  be  framed  with  reference  to  that  little  cHque  among 
human  society  which  we  happen  to  call  our  own  State. 

We  have  elsewhere  said  that  the  whole  hxmian  race  is  divisible  into  wanderers  and 
settlers — that  is  to  say,  into  those  who  are  in  the  habit  of  teekmg  and  taking  what  they 
require  for  their  sustenance  or  their  pleasure,  and  those  who  are  in  the  habit  of  producing 
and  grmoing  what  they  want.  The  main  difference  between  an  animal  and  a  plant  is,  that 
the  vegetable  has  its  living  brought  to  it,  while  the  other  has  either  to  go  forth  and  seek 
it,  or  else  to  work  for  it.  Ko  sentient  creature  can  stick  its  feet  in  the  ground  and  draw 
nutriment  from  the  soil,  without  any  exertion  of  its  own.  In  a  primitive  state  of  society, 
before  the  world  came  to  be  too  thickly  peopled  for  the  spontaneous  productions  of  the  soil 
to  yield  man  a  sufficiency  of  fruits  and  roots  to  satisfy  his  cravings,  the  earth,  in  those  generous 
dimates  where  the  human  family  seems  to  have  sprung  into  existence,  would  appear  to  have 
been  one  vast  garden  filled  with  enough  natural  food  for  all.  Hence  oj^opriation  would  no 
more  have  existed  at  such  times,  than  men  would  think  now-a-days  of  appropriating  the 
waters  of  the  ocean  or  the  sands  of  the  desert,  in  the  midst  of  the  sea  or  the  Great  Sahara 
itself.  It  is  only  when  scarcity  begins  that  property  comes  into  existence,  and  then  men 
begin  to  fight  and  quarrel  for  that  which  others  have  taken  to  themiselves.  "When,  however, 
the  scarcity  increases  to  such  an  extent  that  the  earth  has  to  be  forced  and  stimulated  to 
Uinusaal  productiveness,  and  men  by  their  labour  get  to  rear  crops  and  cattle  that  would  not 
otlierwise  have  existed,  it  is  but  natural  that  they  who  have  called  things  into  existence  by 
their  industry  and  care,  should  como  to  regard  such  things  as  their  own  individual  right, 


384  THE  GKEAT  WOBLD  OP  LOITOON. 

and  to  believe  that  a  wrong  was  done  to  fhem  by  any  who  attempted  to  depriye  them  of 
their  posseBsions. 

This  forcing  of  the  earth  to  inordinate  fertility  would  have  constituted  the  dawn  of 
ciyilization,  and  it  is  evident  that  the  earliest  efforts  would  have  been  made  by  the  more 
MdaU  and  prudent  of  the  human  race,  whilst  the  more  reckless  and  restless  would  have 
wandered  on,  content  to  seek  a  precarious  existence  in  either  the  spoils  of  the  chase  or  the 
plundering  of  their  more  industrious  neighbours.  It  is  within  the  records  of  European 
history,  as  to  how  the  so-called  nobles  of  the  olden  time  not  only  despised  the  dwellers  in 
cities,  but  looked  upon  all  industrial  occupations — arts  as  well  as  commerce— as  fit  only  for 
beasts,  regarding  every  one  who  pursued  any  business  or  craft,  as  well  as  those  engaged 
in  commerce,  bb  *'res  n&n  persona** —cre&taxeB  but  little  better  than  beasts  of  burden ;  while 
the  barons  themselves  felt  pride  only  in  hunting  and  warfare,  and  lived  buried  in  vast  forests 
with  a  multitude  of  slaves  and  knights  about  them,  ready  to  sally  forth  and  plunder  tJie 
industrious  citizens.  The  Bedouin  Arab  is  the  modem  type  of  the  medisBval  baron ;  as  with 
the  old  European  nobles,  robbery  is  regarded  by  the  Sheikh  to  this  day  as  an  honourable 
occupation ;  he  considers  the  country  in  which  he  pitches  his  tent  as  sacred  groimd,  and 
looks  upon  the  plunder  of  the  pilgrim  caravan  as  the  mere  levying  of  tribute  or  payment 
for  permission  to  pass  through  his  territory  (see  Burekhardfs  Notes  on  Bedouins,  pp.  84 — 89). 
The  Teutonic  nobles,  between  the  11th  and  12th  centuries,  were  but  the  older  European 
forms  of  the  modem  Arabian  Sheikh ;  and  "  tolls,"  like  our  own  *'  black  nudl,"  were 
exacted  by  them  from  the  passing  merchants,  even  as  the  Bedouin  demands  his  tribute* 
money  at  the  present  day. 

Those  who  forget  how,  in  olden  times,  industry  was  regarded  as  base  and  sLavish, 
and  plunder  and  warfi^re  as  the  only  honourable  occupations  worthy  of  freemen,  cannot 
understand  why  it  is  that  the  stiU  uncivilized  gipsy  mother  sa3rs  to  her  child,  "  And  now, 
having  said  your  prayers,  go  out  and  steal ;"  or  why  the  equally  uncivilized  professional 
thieves  of  the  present  day  should  divide  all  society  into  ''flats"  and  "sharps,"  and, 
dassing  themselves  among  the  wiser  portion  of  humanity,  should,  like  the  ancient  barons, 
look  with  scorn  upon  all  who  labour  for  their  living  as  either  mean  or  witless. 

Our  criminal  tribes,  therefore,  may  be  regarded  as  that  portion  of  our  society  who  have 
not  yet  oonformed  to  civilized  habits.  What  the  Bedouins  are  to  the  FeUahs,  the  Lappes  to 
the  Finns,  the  Fingoes  to  the  Kafirs,  and  the  Sonquas  to  the  Hottentots,  the  Gipsies  to  the 
Europeans  generally,  and,  indeed,  the  old  baron  to  the  ancient  citizen,  our  modem 
thieves  and  beggars  are  to  the  more  prudent  and  striving  portion  of  our  race. 

Still  the  question  becomes*— why  do  these  folk  not  settle  down  to  industrial  pursuits  like 
the  rest  of  the  community  ?  Why  do  they  not  adapt  themselves  to  the  more  oomfbrtable 
practices  of  civilized  society  ?  In  the  first  place,  then,  it  is  evid^it  that  some  men  are 
naturally  of  more  erratic  natures  than  others;  even  gentiefolks  know  the  pleasure  of 
travelling,  of  continually  passing  through  fr^esh  scenes,  and  meeting  with  fresh  excite- 
ments, countries,  characters,  and  adventures ;  but  a  delight  in  going  upon  foreign  tours 
is  simply  a  delight  in  vagabondage,  with  the  power  of  putting  up  at  more  comfortable 
abiding-places  than  the  casual  wsurd.  And  it  is  a  strange  ethnological  fact  that,  though 
many  have  passed  from  the  steady  and  regular  habits  of  civilized  life,  few  of  thoee 
who  have  once  adopted  the  savage  and  nomadic  form  of  existence  abandon  it,  not- 
withstanding its  privations,  its  dangers,  and  its  hardships.  This  appears  to  be  doe 
mainly  to  that  love  of  liberty,  and  that  impatience  under  control,  that  is  more  or  less  com- 
mon to  all  minds.  Some  are  more  self-willed  than  others,  and,  therefore,  more  irritable 
under  restraint;  and  these  generally  rebel  at  the  least  opposition  to  their  desires.  It 
is  curiously  illustrative  of  the  truth  of  this  point,  that  the  greater  number  of  criminals 
are  found  between  the  ages  of  15  and  25 ;  that  is  to  say,  at  that  time  of  life  when  the 


HOUSE  OP  COEEEOTION,  TOTFTLL  FIELDS.  385 

will  is  newly  developed,  and  kas  not  yet  come  to  be  guided  and  oantroUed  by  the  dictates 
of  reason.  The  period,  indeed,  when  human  beingB  begin  to  assert  themselYes  is  the  most 
trying  time  for  every  form  of  government — ^whether  it  be  parental,  political,  or  social ;  and 
fhoee  indomitable  natures  who  cannot  or  will  not  brook  ruling,  then  become  heedless  of  all 
anthority,  and  respect  no  law  bnt  their  own. 

Another  circnmstance  which  tends  to  make  men  prefer  a  wandering  and  predatory,  to  a 
settled  and  industrious  life,  is,  that  thongh  all  have  an  instinctive  aversion  to  labour,  some  find 
the  drudgery  of  it  more  irksome  than  others.  We  have  before  spoken  (p.  301)  of  this  innate 
lepugoance  to  continued  physical  exertion,  and  shown  how  wages  are  paid  to  ''labourers"  as 
a  bribe  for  the  performance  of  the  more  arduous  forms  of  it,  and  sums  given  to  be  allowed 
to  indulge  in  those  more  agreeable  kinds  of  muscular  exercise  which  are  termed  sports  or 
amiuements.  Whenever  the  muscles  are  made  to  move  by  the  mere  force  of  the  will,  we 
are  invariably  conscious  of  an  4fffi>rt,  and  this  effort  becomes  more  or  less  fiettig^uing  according 
as  the  muscular  action  is  protracted.  Dr.  Maraball  Hall  has  shown  that  the  brain  is  the 
oigan  of  fatigue,  and  that  those  operations  which  are  performed  instinctively,  such  as  the  play 
of  the  lungs,  and  the  contraction  and  expansion  of  the  heart,  are  unattended  with  any  sense 
of  weariness  from  long-continued  motion.  FHes,  again,  he  tells  us,  remain  for  days  on  the 
wing,  without  showing  any  symptoms  of  being  tired ;  and  so  those  physical  exercises  which 
we  delight  in — such  as  dancing,  skating,  riding — ^produce  little  or  no  weariness  in  the  limbs; 
whilst  labour,  which  is  performed  simply  for  the  sake  of  the  food  it  brings,  rather  than  from 
any  taste  for  the  work,  soon  grows  irksome,  not  only  from  the  continued  effort  necessary  for 
the  performance  of  it,  but  also  from  that  prolonged  constraint  of  the  mental  faculties  which 
is  required  in  order  to  keep  the  attention  fixed  upon  one  subject.  The  mind,  at  such  times, 
is  indeed  working  against  itself.  The  craving  for  immediate  pleasure  makes  it  long  to  be 
away  in  the  fields,  indulging  in  some  more  congenial  sport,  whilst  a  sense  of  the  proepeetioe 
good  to  be  derived  from  the  reward  attached  to  the  task  in  hand,  forces  the  worknian  to 
continue  toiling  against  his  own  impulses  and  instincts.  It  is  this  labour  that  all  men  are 
striving  to  avoid;  some,  by  frugality,  are  hoping  to  amass,  through  small  regular  savings,  a 
Bofficiency  to  allow  them  to  live  at  length  a  life  of  ease ;  others  seek  the  more  easy  forms  of 
trade  and  speculation ;  while  others,  again,  who  have  littie  or  no  fear  of  the  law,  nor  any 
sense  of  independence  and  honesty,  endeavour  rather  to  gain  an  easy  subsistence  by  begging 
or  by  theft. 

dime,  said  the  Constabulary  CommissionerB,  in  their  First  Beport,  arises  from  a  desire 
to  acquire  property  by  a  less  degree  of  labour  than  ordinary  industry;  and  habitual 
criminals,  therefore,  are  those  persons  who  feel  labour  to  be  more  irksome  than  others,  owing 
to  their  being  not  only  less  capable  of  continued  application  to  one  subject  or  object,  but 
more  fond  of  immediate  pleasure,  and,  consequentiy,  less  willing  to  devote  themselves  to 
those  pursuits  which  yield  only  prospective  ones.  This  explanation  agrees  thoroughly  with 
the  criminal  character,  for  it  is  well  known  that  such  persons^are  distinguished  by  a  compa- 
rative incapability  of  protracted  attention,  as  well  as  by  an  inordinate  love  of  amusement^ 
and  an  indomitable  repugnance  to  regular  labour. 

"I  have  never  been  able  to  comprehend,"  says  Mr.  Chesterton,  the  late  governor  of  Cold- 
bath  Fields,  in  a  passage  of  his  work  on  **  Prison  Life,"  before  quoted,  "  the  preference  given 
by  hale  able-bodied  men,  who,  ratiier  than  face  creditable  industry,  will  stand  shivering  in  the 
cold,  with  garments  barely  sufficient  to  clothe  their  nakedness,  and  purposely  rent  and  tattered 
in  order  to  provoke  sympathy.  The  tramps  or  ubiquitary  wanderers  display  a  taste,"  he 
adds,  '*  £Eur  superior  to  tiiat  of  the  London  cadgers.  One  such  assured  me  tiiat  the  life  he 
led  suited  him ;  he  enjoyed  the  country,  he  said,  realized  a  pleasing  variety,  and  managed, 
in  one  way  or  other,  to  get  his  wants  adequately  supplied." 

Crime,  theui  it  may  be  safely  asserted,  is  not  due,  as  some  say,  to  an  inordinate  density 


386  TEE  OBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDOlir. 

of  the  popiilation^  nor  to  a  love  of  intoxicating  liquovBy  nor  to  an  inability  to  read  and 
write,  nor  to  unwholesome  dwelliDgs,  nor  to  a  non-observanoe  of  the  Sabbath ;  but  Amply 
to  that  innate  love  of  a  life  of  eafle,  and  aversion  to  hard  work,  which  is  common  to  M 
natures,  and  which,  when  accompanied  with  a  lawlessness  of  disposition  as  well  as  a  diflor^pard 
for  the  rights  of  our  fellow-creatures,  and  a  want  of  self-dignity,  can  but  eddd  either  in 
begging  or  stealing  the  earnings  and  possessions  of  others. 

Labour  is  a  necessity  of  civilized  life,  and  he,  therefore,  who  refuses  to  work  or  trade  mutt, 
perforce,  prey  upon  the  labours  or  gains  of  his  neighbours ;  and  if  it  be  possible  to  win  large 
sums  of  money  with  little  or  no  toil,  by  dishonest  means,  and  but  small  sums  with  heavy  and 
long  toiling,  by  honest  industry,  who  can  wonder  that  so  many  of  our  poor  prefer  the  lucrativ^'> 
liess  of  crime,  even  with  all  its  perils,  to  the  slender  reward  of  more  honourable  courses  ?  One 
of  the  warders  at  Millbank  assured  us,  that  many  of  the  youths  imprisoned  there  kept  soflle 
five  or  six  persons  when  at  large,  and  gained  often  £50  in  the  week  by  picking  pockets  {anU, 
p.  257).  We,  ourselves,  knew  a  coiner  who  could  get  his  £5  a  week  by  passing  bad  money ; 
and  one  housebreaker  of  our  acquaintance  assured  us  that  he  had  once  made  £100  a  week  £i)r 
fourteen  weeks,  by  a  series  of  burglaries.  Indeed,  from  calculations  we  have  entered  into  upon 
the  subject,  we  find  that  a  professional  pickpocket  commits,  upon  an  average,  1,000  robbetfies 
to  one  detection.  The  ordinary  career  of  the  ''light-fingered  gentry,''  for  example,  is,  as  the 
men  say,  '*  six  months  out  (of  prison)  and  four  months  in.''  A  pickpocket,  in  regular  work, 
reckons  to  take  his  six  purses  a  day,  Sundays  included ;  and  as  there  is  generally  some  paWo 
entertainment,  fete,  or  assembly  going  on  one  day  in  every  week— either  a  raoe,  or  a 
flower  show,  a  ^emcy  bazaar,  a  review,  a  confirmation,  a  regatta,  or  a  May  meetin^^ 
we  are  assured  that  the  average  number  of  purses  obtained  by  a  London  swell-mdbttian 
amounts  to  not  less  than  fifty  every  week  during  the  time  he  is  at  large,  and  this,  for  twenty- 
five  weeks,  would  give  as  many  as  1,250  robberies  committed  hekfte  being  detected ;  And  yet 
the  men  who  reap  these  large  gains  by  dishonest  means,  would  not  be  able  to  earn  their 
guinea  a  week  by  honest  labour. 

To  reduce  crime,  therefore,  we  must  do  all  we  can  to  make  theft  less  hicAtiTe  and 
more  certain  of  detection,  on  the  one  hand,  as  weU  as  to  increase  the  rewards  of  industry,  on 
the  other,  and  to  render  it  a  more  honourable  vocation  in  the  State. 

Such,  then,  would  appear  to  be  the  cause  of  habitual  crime  in  the  abstract.  But 
we  have  before  said,  a  considerable  number  of  our  criminals  are  bred  to  the  profession  as 
regularly  as  the  children  of  the  Chinese  are  bom  to  particular  crafts.  A  large  proportion 
of  the  London  thieves  are  ''  Irish  Cockneys,"  having  been  bom  in  London  of  IriA  parents. 
This  shows,  we  believe,  not  that  the  Irish  are  naturally  more  criminal  than  our  own  ivoe, 
but  simply  that  they  are  poorer,  and  that  their  children  are,  consequently,  left  to  shift  for 
themselves,  and  sent  out  to  beg  more  frequently  than  with  our  >  people.  Indeed, 
juvenile  crime  will  be  found  to  be  due,  like  prostitution,  mainly  to  a  want  of  proper  parental 
control.  Some  have  wondered  why  the  daughters  of  the  poorer  classes  principally  serve  to 
swell  the  number  of  our  street-walkers.  Are  poor  girls  naturally  more  unchaste  than  ridt 
ones?  Assuredly  not.  But  they  are  simply  worse  guarded,  and  therefore  more  liable  to 
temptation.  The  daughters  of  even  middle-class  people  are  seldom  or  never  trusted  out  of 
the  mother's  sight,  so  that  they  have  no  opportunity  allowed  them  for  doing  wrong.  With 
the  poorer  classes,  however,  the  case  is  very  different.  Holders  in  that  sphere  of  life  hare 
either  to  labour  for  their  living,  or  else  to  do  the  household  duties  for  themselves,  so  that 
the  girl  is  employed  to  run  errands  alone  ftnm  the  tenderest  years,  and,  when  her  limbs  are 
strong  enough  to  work,  she  is  put  out  in  the  world  to  toil  fbr  herself.  Sh^  has  no  mnidis 
to  accompany  her  when  she  walks  abroad^  and  often  her  only  play-ground  is  the  commoii 
court  in  which  her  parents  reside. 


HOUSE  OP  COEBECTION,  TOTHELL  PEEIDS.  387 

The  same  ciTcamstanoea  as  cause  the  ranks  of  our  **  imfortimates''  to  be  continually 
ncmited  from  the  poorer  classes,  serre  also  to  keep  np  the  nnmbeni  of  our  juyenile  delin- 
qaentSy  and  to  draft  fresh  supplies  frt>m  the  same  class  of  people.  In  a  natural  state  of 
things,  it  has  clearly  been  intended  by  the  Great  Architect  of  the  uniyerse  that  the  labour 
of  the  man  should  be  sufficient  for  the  maintenance  of  the  family — ^the  frame  of  the  woman 
being  in  itself  evidence  that  she  was  never  meant  to  do  the  hard  work  of  society,  whilst  the 
fountains  of  life  that  she  carries  in  her  bosom,  as  well  as  the  kindlier  and  more  affectionate 
qualities  of  her  nature,  all  show  that  her  duty  was  designed  to  be  that  of  a  mother  and  a 
nurse  to  the  children,  rather  than  a  fellow-labourer  with  the  man.  Our  artificial  state  of 
society,  however,  and  the  scanty  remuneration  given  to  many  of  our  forms  of  labour,  as  well 
as  the  high  price  of  rent  and  provisions  among  us,  render  it  now  almost  impossible  for  a 
family  to  be  supported  by  the  man  alone,  and  hence  most  of  the  wives  of  the  unskilled 
portion  of  our  work-people  have,  now-a-days,  to  forego  their  maternal  duties,  and  to  devote 
themselves  to  some  kind  of  drudgery  by  which  they  can  add  to  the  petty  income  of  the  house. 
Either  the  mother  has  to  do  slop-work,  or  to  go  out  "  charing,"  or  washing — or  harvesting, 
and  hop-picking,  in  the  season— or  to  sit  ail  day  at  some  fruit-stall  in  the  streets— or, 
indeed,  to  do  a  variety  of  things  other  than  mind  the  little  ones  that  God  Almighty  has 
entrusted  to  her  care. 

If,  then,  the  mother  be  away  from  home  the  greater  part  of  her  time,  and  the  children, 
consequently,  left  to  gambol  in  the  gutter  with  others  as  neglected  as  themselves,  what 
reward,  think  you,  can  society  look  for  from  such  a  state  of  moral  anarchy  and  destitution  ? 
Either  a  mother's  love  and  care  was  a  useless  piece  of  luxury  in  the  great  scheme  of 
human  nature ;  or,  if  it  were  a  necessity  conceived  by  the  highest  wisdom,  for  the  due 
rearing  and  fostering  of  the  fritnre  race — if  it  were  essential  for  the  proper  working  out  of 
the  organization  of  society,  that  the  early  part  of  every  man's  existence  ehould  be  entrusted 
to  a  creature  distinguished  from  the  sterner  sex  by  the  extreme  lovingkindness  and 
gentleness,  as  well  as  the  timidity  of  her  character,  surely  that  society  which  tolerates  the 
subversion  of  such  a  natural  state  must  expect  to  reap  a  bitter  harvest.  Let  every  man 
among  us  look  back  and  remember  where  he  learnt  his  first  lessons  of  goodness.  Surely  all 
can  answer,  that  the  kindly  teachings  of  their  mother  have  made  them  better  men  than  over 
the  lessons  of  the  schoolmaster  or  the  sermons  of  the  clergyman  could  have  effected ;  and  if 
those  who  have  been  mercifolly  placed  in  a  different  sphere  all  know  and  feel  this,  is  it 
not  easy  to  imderstand  what  must  be  the  consequence  when  the  mother  has  no  time  left  to 
watch  over  and  fondle  her  little  ones,  and  when  the  cares  of  life  are  of  so  all-absorbing  a 
nature  that  her  very  heart  is  hardened  by  them,  and  she  gets  to  wreak  upon  her  children  the 
miseries  and  spleen  that  are  forced  upon  her. 

That  this  constitutes  the  real  explanation  of  juvenile  delinquency,  is  proven  by  the  fact 
that  a  large  proportion  of  young  criminals  have  either  been  left  orphans  in  their  early  child- 
hood, or  else  they  have  been  subject  to  the  tender  mercies  of  some  step-parent.  Any- 
thing which  serves  to  deprive  the  young  of  their  natural  protector,  or  to  render  home 
unlike  what  a  home  should  really  be — or  any  unnatural  treatment  of  the  yoimger  members 
of  a  family,  such  as  over-strictness,  or  even  over-laxity  of  discipline— must  all  tend  to  swell 
the  ranks  of  oar  young  criminals,  and,  eventually,  of  our  old  ones;  and  thus  it  is  that 
juvenile  delinquency  may  be,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  traced  to  orphanage— or  ill- 
treatment,  or  n^lect  of  children  by  their  parents— or  else  to  drunkenness  and  vicious  habits 
on  the  part  of  the  father  or  mother,  or  to  defective  dwellings,  and  the  promiscuous  asso- 
ciation of  children  in  the  streets— or  to  the  want  of  proper  schooling,  and  industrial  as  well 
aa  religious  training — all  of  which,  however,  are  more  or  less  necessarily  included  in  the 
larger  condition  of  the  want  of  due  maternal  and  paternal  care. 

Pew,  indeed,  are  aware  of  the  really  destitute  state  of  the  young  thieves  who  swarm 


888  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

in  our  pnaons,  and  bow  many  of  them  are  deprived  of  the  good  ooxuiBel  and  traimnj;  of 
parents,  either  by  being  orphans,  absolutely  or  morally — ^that  is  to  say,  either  byhariDg 
been  deprived  of  either  father,  or  mother,  or  both,  or  else,  worse  still,  by  having  one  or  both 
of  their  parents  drunkards  or  beggars,  or  old  jail-birds  of  some  kind  or  other.  Mr.  Antrobas 
tells  us  that,  on  reference  to  the  school-register  at  Westminster  for  1852,  it  i^pears  that  out 
of  1,490  boys  who  were  received  there,  65,  or  4 '3  per  cent,  of  the  whole,  were  totally  desti- 
tute, whilst  390,  or  as  many  as  26*7  per  cent.,  had  one  or  both  parents  drunkards,  wldlst  the 
relations  of  many  others  either  were  then,  or  had  been,  imprisoned  or  transported.  At 
another  time  tbe  same  gentleman  found  that,  out  of  1 75  boys,  99  or  56}  per  cent.,  had  rebtives 
who  might  strictly  be  classed  under  the  denomination  of  old  jail-birds.  For  instance,  10  had 
fathers  in  prison,  1  had  a  father  who  was  transported,  6  had  mothers  in  prison,  53  bad 
brothers  in  prison,  9  had  brothers  transported,  4  had  sisters  in  prison,  6  had  couaina  in 
prison,  5  had  cousins  transported,  3  had  uncles  in  prison,  1  had  an  uncle  transportad, 
and  1  an  aunt  in  prison.  Again,  out  of  192  young  girls,  the  following  were  the  statistics 
concerning  their  parentage: — 47  had  neither  father  nor  mother,  3  had  a  stepmother  only,  2  a 
stepfather  only,  53  had  no  father,  14  had  no  mother,  11  had  a  father  and  stepmother,  7  a 
mother  and  stepfather,  and  4  were  not  able  to  say  whether  their  parents  were  living  or  not 
Again,  out  of  12  others,  6  had  parents  who  had  separated  and  were  living  with  other 
persons,  2  were  illegitimate  children,  3  had  parents  who  were  insane,  and  only  1  was  of  a 
respectable  family. 

One  prolific  cause,  too,  of  the  increase  of  juvenile  ofiSmders  is  the  feust,  that  children  are 
sent  to  prison  for  the  most  trivial  offences.  **  The  great  object,"  says  Mr.  Antrobus,  "in 
separating  an  offender  from  society,  must  ever  be  to  make  him  or  her  a  better  member  of  it. 
In  sending  a  child  of  8,  10,  12,  or  14  years  of  age,  to  prison,  and  often  only  for  a  few  days, 
b  this  object,''  he  asks,  *'  likely  to  be  accomplished  ?" 

'*  Send  a  child  to  prison  for  taking  an  apple,  an  orai^;e,  a  few  walnuts !''  exclaims  this 
most  kind-hearted  and  right-minded  magistrate,  ''  or  even  for  snatching  some  trifling  article, 
imprudently  or  culpably  exposed  for  sale  in  the  streets,  or,  indeed,  for  having  a  vagrant 
parent — ^the  act  is  monstrous,  and  can  only  tend  to  increase  the  moral  pestilence  which  reignay 
and  which  all  deplore." 

The  same  gentieman  then  cites  a  table  of  the  number  of  children  under  14  years  of  age 
who  were  committed  to  Toibill  Fields  for  various  petty  thefts  during  the  years  1851-52,  and 
by  this  he  shows  that  no  less  than  55  children,  under  14  years  of  age,  were  committed  to 
prison  for  stealing  fruit,  or  some  article  under  the  value  of  sixpence;  48  for  stealing  some- 
thing of  the  value  of  sixpence  and  under  one  shilling;  48,  again,  for  taking  something  woith 
between  one  and  two  shillings ;  and  40  for  appropriating  something  that  was  estimated  at 
between  two  and  four  shillings — ^the  whole  having  been  sentenced  to  terms  under  two 
months ;  and  thus  evidentiy  proving  that  they  were  not  old  offenders.  "  Now,  a  boy  or  girl," 
says  Mr.  Antrobus,  **  sent  to  prison  for  a  few  days  or  weeks,  cannot,  if  uneducated,  be  either 
reformed  or  morally  trained ;  and  very  few  are  otherwise.  It  is  almost  impossible  to  con- 
ceive," he  adds,  *'  any  other  effect  to  be  produced  on  the  juvenile  offender  by  imprisonment, 
except  that  of  imparting  to  him  or  her  a  recklessness  of  character,  which  will  lead  to  tiie 
committal  of  greater  crimes." 

For  the  due  elucidation  of  this  part  of  the  subject  we  have  compiled  the  following  table 
from  the  last  Special  Beport  of  the  Visiting  Justices  of  Toibill  Fields  Prison : — 


^I 


it 

31 


HOUSE  OP  COEBECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


389 


TABLE  SHOWING  THS  KITMBBB  OT  B0T8  AND  GIRLS,  VKDE&  POVETEEN  TEARS  OF  AGE,  WHO  HATE  BSBIT 
OOMMETTBD  TO  TOTHILL  VIBLDS  PBISON,  DVBIKO  THE  FIVE  TBAHS  1851 — 66,  FOB  BTBAUNO  M027ET  0& 
GOODS,  AND  SETTING  FORTH  THE  SUPPOSED  VALUE  OF  THE  SAME,  TOOBTHEtt  WITH  THE  TERMS  OF 
IXPBT80KMENT  FOB  SUCH  OFFENCXB. 


Amonnt  or  Sappowd  Value  of  Ctoods  Stolen. 

Terms  of  Impriion- 
ment. 

Under 

6Aand 

oader 

U, 

1«.  and 

onder 

2f. 

2«.  and 

under 

ii. 

4«.  and 

nnder 

6«. 

e«.  and 
under 

8«. 

8«.  and 

under 

10«. 

10«.  and 

under 

15«. 

15«.  and 

under 

20«. 

20s, 
and  up. 

warda. 

Total. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

Boys. 
Girls. 

Boys. 
Girls. 

Boys. 
Girls. 

Boys. 
Girls. 

Boys . 
Girls. 

Boys. 
Girls. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

88 

70 
1 

40 
8 

66 

1 

7 

28 

1 

6 

40 

27 

42 
2 

6 
3 

74 

1 

10 

32 
2 

1 
2 

41 
24 

85 

1 

14 

65 

7 

14 

36 
1 

21 
8 

1 
1 
5 

42 
2 

13 

23 
2 

9 

74 
3 

35 
6 

39 
5 

27 
3 

2 
15 

11 

6 
2 

9 

80 
5 

16 
2 

27 
3 

28 

2 
9 

9 
6 

4 

16 

9 

18 
8 

21 

1 
4 
3 

6 

8 

0 
1 

4 

1 

4 
2 

10 
2 

1 

1 

1 
8 

5 
2 

1 

1 

6 
2 

9 

1 

7 
5 

14 

1 

2 
2 
2 

1 
2 

% 

2 

8 
2 

8 

7 
1 
5 

1 

1 

24 
3 

13 

4 

22 
5 

23 
3 

7 
1 

17 
1 

260 
2 

150 
3 

180 
6 

38 

4 

366 
23 

119 

14r 

221 
29 

159 
12 

7 
1 

17 

1 

56 

1 

1  Under  7  days. 

>  7  and  under  14 
)          days. 

)    14  and  under 
i       21  days. 

>  21  days  and 

)  under  1  month. 

)     1  month  and 
)  under  2  months. 

)      2  and  under 
)       3  months. 

)     8  and  under 
)       6  months. 

)      6  and  under 
)       9  months. 

)     9  and  under 
)      12  months. 

)    12  months  and 
)    under  2  years. 

)      2  years  and 
)        upwards. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

299 
3 

234 
8 

257 
12 

280 
21 

148 
12 

90 
3 

42 

7 

50 
10 

23 
2 

121 
18 

1,564 
96 

)        Total  for 
)          5  years. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

... 

_. 

— 

-1.. 

— 

— 

... 

.. 

— 

... 

1,471 
271 

I  Other  Offencos. 

Boys. 
GirU. 

— 

"^ 

"■"* 

— 

— 

f 

— 

"~~ 

.— 

•^ 

3,035 
867 

\    Grand  Total. 

Boys 
Oirls 


48 
6 


!. 


Committed  for 
obbing  parents. 


Boys 
Oirls 


42 
12 


} 


Committed  for 
robbing  employers. 


Hence  ire  find,  that  out  of  an  average  of  313  boys  under  fourteen  years  of  age,  annually 
committed  for  stealing  goods  or  money,  not  less  than  60  in  number,  or  20  per  cent,  of  the 
whole  are,  on  an  average,  sent  to  prison  every  year  for  purloining  articles  of  less  value 
than  6d. ;  47  for  stealing  goods  worth  between  6d.  and  1«. ;  51  the  amoimt  of  whose  theft 
was  estimated  at  between  U,  and  2s, ;  56  at  between  2«.  and  4«. ;  29  at  between  4s,  and 
6s. ;  18  at  between  6s.  and  Ss. ;  8  at  between  Bs.  and  lOs. ;  10  at  between  10s,  and  15s, ; 
4  at  between  15s,  and  20s, ;  and  40  at  20s,  and  upwards. 

Kow,  that  mere  schooling — ^the  teaching  of  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic— can  ever 
hope  to  abate  the  sad  evil  of  juvenile  crime,  is,  in  our  opinion,  a  fiEdlacy  of  the  most  dangerous 
nature,  because  it  is  one  of  the  popular  notions  of  the  day.  ''Beading  and  writing,"  said 
the  late  Dr.  Cooke  Taylor,  "  is  no  more  knowledge  than  a  knife  and  fork  is  a  good  dinner;'' 
and  even  if  it  nwe  knowledge,  we  do  not  believe  that  mere  secular  education — ^the  develop  - 
28* 


390 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOin)ON. 


ment  of  pure  intellect — iB  a  oertam  remedy  againflt  infraotioDB  of  the  law.  *'  The  heart,*' 
said  Coleridge,  "  has  its  logic  as  well  as  the  head  ;*'  and  if  it  be  deaf  to  reason,  how  shall  we 
reach  it  by  addressing  our  arguments  to  the  brain  alone  ?  Surely  Palmer  knew  well  enough 
how  to  read  and  write,  and  was  deeply  versed  in  science  toO;  and  yet  h$  was  criminal  by 
means  of  this  very  science  itself.  The  cultivation  of  the  feelings,  however — the  education  of 
the  moral  sentiments — the  development  of  the  conscience — ^the  teaching  of  duties  and  rights 
-—the  inculcation  of  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  the  true,  and  the  just — ^are  matters  that  every 
criminal  nature  needs  to  be  informed  upon;  and  yet  people  fancy  that  Dillworth,  and  Guy, 
and  Mangnall's  Questions,  and  the  Tutor's  Assistant  and  Catechisms^  can  supply  the  defect. 
Years  ago,  we  pointed  out  to  the  heads  of  the  Bagged  Schools,  that  though  they  had  insti- 
tuted a  vast  educational  machinery  for  the  prevention  of  juvenile  crime,  they  had  made  not 
the  least  impression  upon  the  statistical  records  of  the  country;  for  that  our  prisons  swarmed 
with  even  a  greater  number  of  young  offenders,  in  proportion  to  tiie  population,  than  when 
they  began  their  labours ;  and  no  sooner  were  the  articles  published  in  the  Morning  Chnmde^ 
than  we  were  pelted  with  dirt  from  every  evangelical  assembly  throughout  the  Metropolis; 
and  even  my  Lord  Ashley,  with  high  Christian  charity  and  telling  platform  rhetoric,  did  us 
the  honour  to  say  (though  we  had  merely  quoted  figures  from  the  criminal  returns  of  the 
country),  that ''  we  had  asserted  things  which  we  dare  not  repeat  at  the  bar  of  our  God." 

A  few  weeks  ago,  however,  we  spoke,  with  a  gentieman  who  has  assuredly  had  the 
largest  experience  of  any  in  connection  with  the  young  criminals  of  this  country ;  and  he  told 
us,  that  people  were  now  beginning  to  see  that  the  Bagged  Schools  had  moi  been  attended 
with  that  amount  of  benefit  which  persons  originally  had  been  led  to  expect  from  them ! 

Indeed,  it  is  demonstrable,  by  our  criminal  records,  that  with  all  our  educational  endea- 
vours to  improve  and  instruct  the  prisoners,  we  are  in  no  way  reducing  the  crime  of  the 
country  (for  still  the  same  ratio  of  15  criminals  to  every  10,000  of  our  population  continues 
from  year  to  year) ;  but  rather  we  are  decreaetng  only  the  proportion  that  are  wholly  unable 
to  read  and  write,  and  increasing  the  per  centage  of  those  who  are  able  to  read  and  write 
imperfectiy ;  or,  in  the  words  of  an  intelligent  policeman,  ''we  are  teaching  our  thieves  to 
prig  the  articles  marked  at  the  highest  figures." 

In  the  criminal  returns  of  1848,  the  following  significant  table  was  given : — 

T^lBLE  SHOWINO  THE  CENTESIMAL  OF  INSTETTCTION  OF  PERSONS  OF  ALL  A0E8  OOMMITTBD  FOB  TKUL| 

FROM   1839  TO   1848  IKCLTTSITB. 


Unable  to  read 

Able  to  read 

Able  to  read 

Saperior 

Inatmetion 

Years. 

or  write. 

and  write 
imperfeoUjr. 

and  write  weU. 

instruetion. 

oonldnotbeaa- 
eertalned. 

1839 

3353 

53-48 

10-07 

0-32 

2-60 

1840 

33-32 

65-57 

8-29 

0-37 

2-46 

1841 

38-21 

56-67 

7-40 

0*45 

2-27 

1842 

82-35 

58  32 

6-77 

0-22 

2-34 

1843 

3100 

57-60 

8-02 

0-47 

2-91 

1844 

29-77 

59-28 

8-42 

0-42 

2-41 

1845 

30-61 

58-34 

8-38 

0-37 

230 

1846 

30-66 

59-51 

7-71 

0-34 

1-78 

1847 

31-39 

58-89 

7-79 

0-28 

1-66 

1848 

31-93 

56-38 

9-83 

0-27 

1-69 

1 

''  The  instruction  of  the  offenders,''  added  Mr.  Bedgrave,  of  the  Home  (Mce,  ''has  been 
without  much  variation,  exhibiting,  on  a  comparison  of  the  last  ten  years,  a  decren^i  pro- 
portion of  those  entirely  uninstructed ;"  and,  it  might  be  added,  a  corresponding  inerem  of 
those  who  are  able  to  read  and  write  imperfectiy. 

The  subjoined  table,  however,  which  has  been  compiled  from  the  ITineteenth  Beport  of 
the  Inspectors  of  Prisons,  gives  the  latest  returns  upon  the  subject,  and  for  all  classes  of 
prisoners  in  England  and  Wales : — 


HOUSE  OE  CORKEOTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


391 


UBLB  8K0WIH0  TSX  PBOPOBTIOK  m  CBKT.  A8  TO  THB  XDUCATIOKAL  XNOWLIDOB  OT 
THBOUOHOUT  BNGLAICD  AND  WALW,   IN  TUB  OOURSS  OT  THB  TBABa  1842—53, 


THB  SBYBBAL    PBI80NBBS 
BOTH   INCLUSITB. 


Ya4a«. 


1842. 
\mMm  and  Mfliions 
Sunuatry  «oiiTiGUon» 


Totel.. 


184S. 
AsiQsff  and  Mflslona 
Sommary  ecniirictioiui 


Total 


1814. 
Aarixca  and  sefaiona 
Sammftiy  coiiTictioDa 


Total 


1845. 
4siisca  and  SMsionB 
iiuiimai7  oonTletioDS 


Total 


1846. 
Afltf  ffs  and  sewions 
^nmaurj  conTieU<ni8 


Total 


1847. 
\Mixcs  and  aesaiona  . 
iammtrj  ooaTietionc 


Total 


8S 


I 


89-79 
39-90 


89-84 


88-50 
40-16 


89-83 


89-72 
36  87 


38-39 


35-67 
34-68 


35-18 


87-73 
88*81 


85-77 


86-63 
84-50 


8557 


I 

I 

I 


27-21 
31-65 


1^ 

<3d 


28-98 
38-48 


24-43    8118 


25-85 
31-80 


28-58 


81-91 
88-95 


82-94 


38-95    80-11 
33-82  I  85*49 


I 


24-89    32-80 


28*98 
31-51 


25  34 


38-85 
20-88 


81-79 
88-61 


84-86 


28-02 
31-88 


25-12 


85-20 


30-26 
40  91 


85-60 


30-86 
89-39 


35-13 


2 

1=: 


3 


4-07 
4-18 


4-18 


3-71 
3-84 


8-78 


8-2^ 
4-14 


3-6} 


3-56 
1-61 


4-Of 


3-ie 

8*81 


8-49 


J-69 
1-11 


o1 


•16 


-08 


•17 


•08 


-16 


-08 


-16 


-08 


•16 


8*85 


•08 


•16 


•08 


CO 


-84 


■68 


•84 


•52 


•26 


■13 


21 

■40 
•80 

•51 


•35 


Total. 


100-00 
100 -OC 


100-00 


100  0(< 
lOO^OO 


1849. 
Asaizea  and  aeaaiona  . 
Sttsunary  conyictioni 


100  00^ 


100-00 
100-00 


100-00 


100-00 
100-00 


100-CC 


100-00 
100 -OOj 

10000 


100-00 
10000 


i 


100-00 


Y 


1818. 

Aaaiaco  and  tesaiona  . 
Nummary  oonTictioiiF 


Total 


Total 


1850. 
AaaUea  and  aeaslona  . 
Summary  oonTictionr 


Total 


1851. 

AaaLses  and  aoaaiona  . 
Summary  oonTictionr 


Total 


1852. 
laaisea  and  aessiona 
Summary  conTictiona 


Total 


1858. 
Ajaixes  and  acaaions 
Summary  convlctionB 

Total 


I 


87-05 
85-80 


86-18 


38-57 
37-79 


38-18 


39-17 
87-81 


38-24 


89*37 
37-81 


38-86 


39-74 
38-09 


38-93 


86-63 
36-85 


86*74 


8 


I 


36*48 
23-49 


24-46 


25-26 
31-13 


38-19 


2611 
21-00 


23-06 


23-98 
20-11 


31*52 


26-69 
20-89 


28-29 


27-58 
30-85 


38-94 


^ 


83-56 
87-35 


3405 


33-14 
86-86 


85-00 


81-66 
37-66 

34-66 


81*73 
38-73 


36-78 


80-82 
87-54 


84*18 


32-87 
39-44 


36-16 


t 
9 


3-96 

4-18 


4-07 


3  03 
8-60 


3-31 


I' 

o2 


-16 


-08 


•16 


•08 


4-06   — 


3-52 


3-79 


20' 
3-38 


315 


8-66 
8-39 


3-53 


2-95 
2*98 


3-97 


16 


-08 


•01 
•13 


•09 


•09 
•00 


•09 


•08 


•01 


I 


o 

St 
Se 
•ji 


•52 


0-26 

•47 
•34 

•85 


•17 


•31 


■15 


•30 
•16 


T^tal. 


100-00 
100  Ot 


100*00 


10000 
lOQ'W 


100-0( 


100-0( 
1000( 


100-OC 


100-00 
100-00 


100  oc 


1000(' 
lOO^OC 


100-00 


100-00 
100-00 


10000 


ANKUAL  MBAN. 


! 


Fon  XLL  CUMU»» 


Aaaizea  and  eeaaiona  .  . 
Simimary  oonvietions  . 

Juyenllcs . . . 

AdulU 


• 


I 


38-31 
87*33 


43-53 


88-50 


1 

I 

S 


III 
5 


■3 


B 


26-f6 
21-24 


81-64 
87-14 


24-43       30-21 


21-82 


87-62 


h 

If 

■ 

8-49 
881 

•01 
•15 

268 

•02 

6-49 

•31 

Total. 


•43 


10000 
lUO-00 


•16      i   10000 


•26 


100-00 


DIFFEBBKCS  PBB   CBMT.    BETWEEN  THB  BDVCATIONAL  KNOWLBDOB  OF  PBI80NBB8  IN   1842  AND   1853. 


( 

i 

* 

All  elacan  in  1842 

1, 

i 

1 

t 
1 

Can  read  or  write, 

or  both 

Imperfbctly. 

h 

Of  raperlor  edu- 
cation.   . 

State  of  Inatruction 
not  aaeertained. 

.Total. 

86-96 
83-83 

22-81 
21-88 

33-67 
38-49 

650 
5-27 

•19 
•24 

•34 
•29 

100-00 
10000 

10000 
100-00 

100-00 
100-00 

IRAS 

Differenee 

Adnlta  in  1842 

—  8-13 

85-89 
82-86 

—  •48 

31-96 
31-66 

+  8  82 

31-50 
89-32 

—  1-38 

6-97 
5-59 

-f -06 

•23 

•27 

—  06 

•87 
•30 

1853 

f»                 *9V9 «• 

Diffflmiea  .••  •.■•..•... 

—  8-03 

45-21 
41-54 

—  -38 

25-37 
24-22 

+  4  73 

26-49 
31-87 

-1-43 

2-78 
2-19 

+  •05 

•01 
•01 

—  •07 

•14 
•17 

JnnmilM  in  184S 

18W 

TttffWvAnAA    ....... ••«•«• 

—  8-67 

—  116 

-f  5-38 

—  •59 

— 

+  •03 

d92  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

Thus,  then,  we  perceiye  that  the  sole  result  of  all  our  eduoational  attempts  ia  coimectiaa 
with  juvenile  prisoners  has  been,  not  to  make  any  marked  impression  upon  their  numerical 
amount  (for  in  the  year  1842,  11,602  passed  through  the  prisons  of  all  England  and  Wales, 
whereas  in  1852  the  number  that  did  so  was  11,821,  whilst  in  1853  it  was  11,453),  but 
rather  to  decrease  the  number  of  those  who  can  neither  read  nor  write,  or  who  can  read 
only  'y  for  it  will  be  seen,  on  reference  to  the  above  returns,  that  in  1842  there  was  45*21  per 
cent,  of  juvenile  prisoners  who  were  wholly  uneducated,  whereas  in  1853  there  was  only 
41*54  per  cent,  belonging  to  the  same  class.  Agaia,  of  those  who  could  read  only  there  was 
25*37  per  cent,  in  1842,  and  only  24*22  per  cent,  in  1853,  so  that,  with  these  two  unethitaied 
classes,  there  had  been  a  reduction  of  very  nearly  5  per  cent,  in  the  twelve  years.  Dorixig 
the  same  period,  however,  it  will  be  found,  on  reference  to  the  above  table,  that  the  pro- 
portion of  young  prisoners  who  could  read  and  write  imperfectly  had  been  utermued  in  an 
equal  ratio ;  for  whilst  in  1842  the  tmperfeeUif  educated  class  of  juvenile  prisoners  was  only 
26*49  per  cent.,  in  1853  it  was  no  less  than  31*87  per  cent.,  or  upwards  of  5  per  cent, 
more  than  it  had  been  twelve  years  before. 

Now,  surely,  the  unprejudiced  wiU  admit  that  there  is  no  gainsaying  such  facts  as  these, 
for  they  must  be  allowed  to  be  overpowering  evidence  that  this  same  educational  panacea  for 
crime  has  proved  comparatively  fruitless.  Do  people  in  the  nineteenth  century  still  require 
to  be  told  that  reading  and  writing  are  but  the  instruments  of  acquiring  knowledge,  rather 
than  knowledge  itself;  and  that  ^e  faculty  which,  with  righteous  persons,  may  be  applied 
to  the  study  of  the  Bible  or  other  good  works,  may,  on  the  other  hand,  be  used  by  un- 
righteous ones  for  the  perusal  of  Jack  Sheppard  and  such  like  degrading  literature  ?  It 
should  be  remembered  that  it  is  only  within  a  few  centuries  that  even  gentlefolks  have  been 
able  to  read  or  write  at  all— ^and  yet  in  the  olden  time  such  people  were  not  utterly  criminal 
because  they  were  utterly  unlettered ;  and  the  reason  why  the  thieves  of  the  present  day 
belong  principally  to  the  ignorant  classes,  is  because  they  come  mostly  from  the  poorer 
portion  of  our  community,  and  a  want  of  education  is  indicative  of  the  want  of  means  to 
obtain  it.  Accordingly,  if  any  other  test  was  to  be  taken,  which  should  be,  like  the  want 
of  education,  a  sign  as  to  the  want  of  means  in  the  class — such,  for  instance,  as  the  use  of 
different  kinds  of  pocket-handkerchieft — ^tables  might  be  drawn  up  showing  that  the  emaXUr 
number  of  criminals  indulged  in  white  cambric  ones,  and  that  a  considerable  proportion 
carried  red  cotton  bandannas,  whilst  by  far  the  larger  number  used  none  at  all ;  and  thence 
theories  might  be  fbuned,  that  the  blowing  of  the  nose  with  the  fingers  was  productive 
of  crime. 

Now,  it  must  not  be  imagined,  from  what  is  here  written,  that  we  are  adverse  to  the 
spread  of  education  among  the  people — ^far  from  it.  We  readily  admit,  that  the  sole  test 
of  high  wisdom  is  leading  a  virtuous  and  happy  life,  and  that  the  profoundest  know 
ledge  can  but  tend  to  the  profoundest  goodness,  because  virtue  alone  yields  the  greatest 
happiness  both  here  and  hereafter;  and  we  grant,  therefore,  that  crime,  which,  sooner  or 
later,  ends  in  misery,  can  but  be  dictated  by  foUy,  and  produced  by  ignorance.  Never- 
theless, mere  reading  and  writing  are  but  the  means  of  obtaining  either  good  or  had  know- 
ledge, according  to  the  cultivation  and  tendencies  of  the  mind  which  uses  them,  and  so 
may  become  an  instrument  of  evil  in  the  hands  of  a  viciously-disposed  person,  even  as 
they  are  of  good  to  the  virtuous-minded. 

What  our  young  criminals  stand  fat  more  in  need  of  than  reading  and  writing,  is  in- 
dustrial training.  They  require  to  be  taught,  not  only  the  habit  of  industry,  but  dso  the 
use  and  the  dignity  of  it.  The  majority  of  the  young,  and,  indeed,  even  the  old, 
eriminals  are  utterly  ignorant  of  all  means  of  getting  their  own  living ;  for,  according  to  the 
account  given  by  Mr.  Antrobus,  one  of  the  visiting  justices  at  the  Westminster  House  of 
Correction,  "out  of  1,481  boys  committed  to  the  Westminster  prison  during  the  yeer 
ending  Miohaebnas,  1852,  only  129,  or  8j  percent.,  had  received  any  industrial  education; 


HOUSE  OP  COBREOTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


398 


and,  on  i&yestigaiion,  it  appeared  that  very  few  even  of  those  had  more  than  a  slight 
knowledge  of  the  trade  to  which  they  said  they  belonged/'* 

It  is  manifest,  therefore,  that  if  yonths  be  educated  to  no  trade  or  business,  and  be  reared 
in  habits  of  idleness  rather  than  industry,  they  can  hardly  be  expected^  when  they  come 
to  man's  estate,  to  delight  in  labouring  for  their  Hying,  or  to  have  much  Mth  in  their 
own  powers,  or  any  sense  of  self-respect — or,  indeed,  any  of  those  yirtues  which  tend  to 
giye  a  man  a  consciousness  of  his  own  dignity  and  position  in  the  great  scheme  of  human 
nature. 

Nor  are  these  mere  day-dreams  on  our  part,  for  the  most  sucoessftd  experiments  that  have 
been  made  of  late  years,  concerning  the  reformation  of  the  young,  are  those  in  connection 
with  industrial  schools.  At  the  Philanthropic  Farm  School,  at  Bedhill,  it  is  said  that  some 
75  per  cent,  of  the  juvenile  oflfenders  who  are  sent  there  are  led  to  adopt  an  honest  life ; 
and  the  industrial  ragged  schools  of  Sheriff  Watson,  in  Aberdeen,  as  well  as  the  shoe- 

*  We  extract  the  following  table  from  Hr.  Anttobiu'fl  iattraotiTe  and  beneyolont  work,  <<  Tki  Priton 
tmith§  School  r-^ 


BJETUIK  OP  THX  TRASBS  OF  B0T8  COUMITTED  TO  THB  HOUSE  OF  OOBBEOTIOK  AT  WESUCmBTSR,    DXTUNO 

THB  TBAB  SNDINO  MICHABLHAS,    1852. 

4 
3 
3 
3 
8 
2 
2 
2 
2 
1 


25 

Paintera 

Tailors 

11 

Hope-makers  . 

Paper-ataioen    . 

8 

Ghair-makera 

Whitgsmitha,      GimBmitliB, 

Batchers 

Tiockfliiiiihs,  and  Copper- 

Glass-blowers     . 

6 

Caryeis  and  Gilders 

Plasterers  .... 

5 

Bookbinders 

Carpentera     • 

5 

Basket-makers 

French  Polkhera 

5 

Hatters 

Ptinteis         • 

4 

Bricklayer 

Aa  regarda  the  industrial  knowledge  of  the  females  in  the 
the  subjoined  tablo  concerning  the  attainments  of  646  females 


Blacksmith 

Cabinet-maker 

Baker 

Other  tradea    . 

1 
1 
1 

.    32 

Total  . 
Clerks  .... 
No  trade  or  occupation 

.     129 

2 

.  1,350 

Grand  Total 

1,481 

same  prison,  Mr.  Antrohus  supplies  ua  with 


BrrtmN  as  to  the  state  of  INDUSTHTAL  education  of  the  females    COMHITTED  to  the  WfibTUUiSTEB 

HOUSE  OF  CORBBCnON,  TOMB,    1853. 


Ability  to  Sew  or  haTing  a  slight  Knowledge  of 
Needlework. 

Ability  to  Knit. 

None. 

Some. 

learned 
inprieon. 

Total. 

None. 

Some. 

Learned 
in  prison. 

Total. 

Number    58 
Per  cent  8*9 

469 
72-6 

119 
18-5 

646 
•100 

161 
23-5 

867 

58-5 

1 

158 
23-5 

686 
•100 

Of  the  469  femalea  who  are  here  stated  to  be  able  to  sew,  or  have  some  slight  knowledge  of  needlework, 
"  one-half,"  the  author  tells  us,  "  were  able  to  accomplish  merely  the  most  simple  work  in  the  crudest 
manner.  It  is,  however,  not  from  any  lack  of  ability,"  adds  Mr.  Antrohus,  "that  this  extreme  ignorance 
arises,  for  it  is  surprising  how  very  soon  the  great  majority  of  the  younger  women  (under  25  years  of  age) 
learn  the  various  works  taught  in  the  prison— the  average  time  taken  by  them  in  learning  to  make  a  straw 
bonnet,  complete  from  first  to  last,  being  only  six  weeks,  t.  e.,  fourteen  days  to  learn  the  plait,  and  twenty, 
eight  days  to  accomplish  the  cleaning,  blocking,  and  making-up." 

Agun,  the  same  authority  publishes  a  table  of  the  trades  of  the  prisoners  conunitted  to  Coldbath  Fields, 
which  proves,  aa  he  aays,  "  that  it  is  not  the  meehanie  or  artisan  that  enoumbera  a  prison,  for  out  of  6,643 
prisoners  committed  in  the  year  ending  Michaelmas,  1852,  only  667  (or  10  per  cent)  had  any  knoidedge  of 
a  trade." 


394  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

black  brigade,  in  connectioxL  with  the  ragged  Bchools  of  the  Metropolis,  hare  been  of  more 
service  towards  reclaiming  boys  &om  evil  courses,  than  all  the  spelling-books,  and  gram- 
mars, and  catechisms  in  Europe. 

Wo  now  come  to  the  second  consideration,  which  we  proposed  at  the  beginning  of  this 
article,  viz.,  what  fate  eventually  befalls  the  young  criminals  of  our  country  ? 

That  thejuyenile  offender  ultimately  ripens  into  the  old  felon  and  transport  is  admitted 
by  all;  stlQ,  it  cannot  be  said  that  the  whole  of  the  15,000  or  20,000  boy  thieres  and 
vagrants  infesting  the  country  grow  up  to  be  the  future  convicts.  Many  of  our  young 
criminals  are  transferred  to  that  admirable  institution,  the  Philanthropic  Farm  School,  at 
Reigate,*  and  are  there  trained  to  agricultural  pursuits,  with  a  view  to  their  ultimate 
settlement  in  the  colonies ;  for  the  reverend  gentleman  at  the  head  of  that  establishment 
has  ably  shown  that  it  is  almost  idle  to  expect  to  reclaim  the  youthful  delinquant  in  this 
country,  surrounded,  as  he  generally  is,  by  a  crowd  of  felon  relatives  and  Mends.  It  is 
asserted  that  this  institution  reclaims  some  three-fourths  of  those  who  come  under  its  care. 
God  speed  it !  we  say. 

How  many  other  young  criminals  are  won  to  honest  courses  by  similar  institutions  and 
reformatories  throughout  the  country  we  are  not,  at  present,  able  even  to  conjecture.  Suffice 
it,  many  are  applying  themselves,  heart  and  soxd,  to  the  good  work  of  the  redemption  of 
those  poor  wretches  who  seem  to  have  been  bom  with  a  handcuff  about  their  wrist^  the  same 
as  the  more  lucky  members  of  society  are  said  to  come  into  the  world  with  a  silver  spoon  in 
their  mouth ;  for,  surely,  even  the  sternest-minded  amongst  us  must  admit,  that  he  who 
enters  upon  life  vid  some  convict  nursery  has  a  very  different  career  before  him  to  the 
one  whose  birth  is  hailed  by  the  firing  of  cannon,  and  whose  mother's  couch  is  surrounded 
by  aU  the  ministers  of  state. 

A  small  proportion  of  the  gross  number  of  juvenile  offenders^  however,  die  in  the  prisons 
of  the  country — ^but  only  about  1  per  1,000;  for  in  the  year  1853  there  were  merely  12 
deaths  out  of  a  gross  prison  population  of  11,749  boys  and  girls  under  17  years  of  age. 
How  many  of  the  same  class  are  summoned  to  their  last  account  outside  the  prison  walls 
it  is  impossible  to  say ;  still,  the  mortality  among  them  can  hardly  tend  to  thin  the  ranks 
of  our  infant  vagabonds  to  any  considerable  extent. 

Admitting,  however,  that  the  reformatories,  and  farm  schools,  and  industrial  institutions, 
as  well  as  the  boy  convict  prisons,  are  attended  with  the  best  possible  success,  it  certainly 
cannot  be  said  that,  even  with  the  deaths  among  the  class,  25  per  cent,  of  the  entire  number 
of  our  young  criminal  population  are  snatched  from  their  wretched  life.  It  will  be  found, 
on  consulting  the  prison  returns,  that  no  less  than  33  per  cent,  of  the  young  thievea  and 
vagrants  are  re-committed  to  each  of  our  jails  in  the  course  of  the  year,  so  that,  as  this 
large  per  centage  refers  only  to  the  boys  who  are  known  to  the  authorities  of  the  prison 
in  which  they  may  happen  to  be  incarcerated  for  the  time  being,  it  is  highly  probable 
(if  the  returns  upon  the  subject  could  possibly  be  obtained)  that  the  per  centage  of  those 
who  had  been  previously  committed  to  some  jail  or  other  throughout  the  country  would 
be  found  to  amount,  at  the  very  least,  to  two-thirds  of  the  whole.  We  incline,  then, 
to  the  belief  that  the  proportion  of  juvenile  offenders  annually  removed  from  the  16,000 
to  20,000  at  which  we  have  estimated  the  gross  numbers  of  the  young  criminal  popu- 
lation of  the  country,  by  reformatories  and  other  institutions,  amounts  barely  to  one- 
third  of  the  whole.  Consequently,  there  would  remain  some  10,000  or  12,000  unaffected 
by  our  many  efforts  towards  the  reformation  of  the  class,  and  who  must,  ultunatelT, 

*  There  are  aUo  usually  some  600  young  prisoners  at  the  Boy  Convict  Prison,  at  Parkhurtt  (the 
daily  number  in  confinement  there  was  593,  in  the  year  1853),  and  of  these  abont  100  appear  to  be 

annually. 


JNTBfilOa  OP  THE  SOWE?  HO03B  OF  CORRECTIOW,  W4ND8VORTt|, 
Wfru  THB  PsisoxEiis  TUEixiHa  our  xnet^  di^xbei. 


HOUSE  OP  COEEECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


895 


pass  into  the  body  of  the  adult  professional  thieves  that  are  continaalLy  preying  on  onr  com- 
sninity. 

The  next  point  to  be  settled  is — ^how  many  are  required  to  be  added  every  year  to  the 
number  of  our  old  habitual  offenders,  in  order  to  majntain  the  criminal  population  at  the 
ratio  of  15  to  every  10,000  of  our  people,  at  which  it  has  stood  for  several  years  ?  But 
this  problem  there  is  a  simple  method  of  solving.  We  have  before  shown  that,  under  the 
old  system  of  transportation,  some  2,000  convicts  were,  for  a  series  of  years,  annually 
shipped  off  to  the  penal  colonies,  so  that  if  we  could  leam,  by  any  means,  the  proportion 
that  the  old  habitual  criminals  among  these  bore  to  the  ^'first-offence  men,"  we  should 
be  enabled  to  state,  with  some  little  certainty,  how  many  fresh  hands  must  yearly  join  our 
criminal  bands  in  order  to  keep  up  the  stock. 

Now,  by  a  series  of  compilations  and  deductions  made  ^m  the  criminal  returns  of 
the  country,*  we  have  attempted  to  classify  the  offences,  not  only  according  to  their  causesi 


*  TABLB  SHOfPnrO  THB  A3X1XVJLL  AVBBA6B  JLLTIO  OP  THB  SSTSaAL  OLASSK  OP  O&XMINAIJB  TO  THI  OBNBEAL 

POFUXATION  OP  THB  OOUMT&T,  PBOM  THB  TH4B  18i4  TO  1853. 


Class  L^-Obucbs  op  Fbbooitt  and  Maliob. 


popi 


Murder 
Homicidal  and  aasault  oases  . 
AimmeuM  .  .  .  . 
Destmction  caaea  . 


Total  of  all  caaual  oases  of  ferocity 
and  malico  .... 

Obdbb  B^Habitual. 


Barglsxy  cases 
Highway  robbery  oaaea 
Smuggliiig  (armed)  oases 
Poaehing  (armed)  cases 
Escape  cases . 


No.  of 

crllnliutli 

lneT«7 

IJOfOOMOot 

jK^Qliitloa. 

20*16 

58-46 

9-73 

189 


90*20 


79-08 

25-84 

0-09 

7-35 

1-45 


Total  all  habitual  cases  of  ferocity 

and  malice 113*99 


Total  all  cases  of  ferocity  and  malice     204*19 

Class  IL—Ciumbs  of  Cvrmm  and  Tbuftation. 

Obdbb  A,-^Catual 
Breach  of  truat  cases     ....      142*64 


Obdzb  B^EaHiual. 

Cattle  stealiug,  ftc*,  cases 
Larceny  cases 
Petty  offeDoe  cases 
Beoeiying  cases 
Foigeiy  eaaea 
Coining  casea 
Other  felony  casea 

Total  all  habitual  cases  of  cupidity 
and  temptation   •        .        .        • 

Total  all   oases  of  cupidity  a-^d 
temptation  •       •        .        •       • 


24*17 
984*79 

9-73 
77*65 

0-49 
28*02 

6*69 

1134-19 
1276*83 


Class  III.— Chimes  op  Lxtst,  Iivdboxnct, 
Pbbybbtbd  Afpbtitbs,  dco. 


Obdbb  A— ConM/. 

Lust  cases 

Shame  casea  (as  concealing  births,  &c.) . 

Indecency  cases 

Cases  against  marriage  laws  . 
Unnatural  offence  cases 

Total  all  casual  cases  of  lust,  &o. 
Obdbb  B — Haiiiual. 


Brothel  cases         .... 
Total  all  habitual  cases  of  lust,  &c 

Class  IV. — ^Eyil  SPBAKnro. 


No.  of 

crimliiate 

In  eTery 

l/)00.000or 

popnlatioo. 

15-57 
4*58 
0*23 
4-62 
6-31 

31*38 


5*82 


37-20 


Threatening  cases    .        .                        .        1*44 
Perjury  cases 3*83 


Total  all  cases  of  eyil  speaking 

Class  V.^Political  Cases. 
Political  cases        .        .       .       .       . 


5*27 


1*54 


Total  all  cases  of  casual  crimes  264*22 

„        „          habitual  crimes  .        .  1254*00 

Total  mixed  crimes  (as  eyil  speaking,  &c.)  6-81 

Total 152503 

Total  all  cases  of  ferocity  and  malice      •  204*19 

cupidity  and  temptation  1276*83 

lust,  indecency,  Ac      .  37*20 

evil  speaking       .  ^'27 

„        „        political  offences  .  1*54 

1525*08 


ft 


II 


11 
>i 


II 


396  THE  GREAT  WOBLD  OP  LONDON 

but  also  according  as  they  are  pursued  as  a  matter  of  trade  or  living;  and  tiuis,  by 
Bub-dividing  each  of  the  five  classes  of  offences,  into  which  we  have  arranged  all 
crimes,  into  two  orders — ^the  casual  and  habitual — according  as  they  are  the  acts  of  either 
regular  or,  so  to  speak,  accidental  offenders,  we  haye  been  enabled  to  arriye  at 
something  like  the  proximate  truth  as  to  the  proportions  of  the  casual  and  habitual 
offenders. 

By  means  of  this  statistical  analysis,  we  have  demonstrated  (see  Table  at  p.  395)  that 
there  are  altogether  15*25  criminals  in  every  10,000  of  our  population;  and  that  of 
these  2-64  (or  17^  per  cent,  of  the  whole)  belong  to  the  eoiual  class,  whilst  12*54 
(or  82^  per  cent.)  appertain  to  the  habitual  class,  and  006  hardly  admit  of  being 
arranged  under  either  head.  At  this  ratio,  then,  of  the  habitual  to  the  casual  criminals, 
the  2,000  conyicts  that  were  annually  sent  out  of  the  country,  until  within  the  last 
few  years,  without  producing  the  least  diminution  of  the  stock  of  old  offenders  at  home, 
must  haye  required  some  1,650  professional  thieyes  to  have  been  annually  added  to  the 
felon  ranks. 

Further,  some  few  of  the  more  successM  and  lucky  criminals  occasionally  pass  into  a 
half  honest  form  of  life.  Some,  for  instance,  take  to  cab-driving,  others  to  costermongering, 
others  to  dealing  in  ''marine  stores,"  as  it  is  called,  and  others  to  keeping  low  lodging- 
houses,  whilst  others,  again,  die  in  the  convict  prisons,  or  the  hospital,  or  workhouse ;  so 
that,  altogether,  we  are  led  to  believe  that  some  2,000  criminals,  at  least,  are  required  to 
be  added  every  year  to  the  general  stock,  in  order  to  maintain  that  steady  ratio  of  offenders 
to  the  population,  which  has  continued  in  this  country  for  nearly  the  whole  of  the  present 
century. 

Hence  it  would  appear  that,  of  the  great  body  of  our  juvenile  criminals,  about  one-fifth 
(or  2,000  out  of  the  10,000  that  we  have  calculated  to  remain  after  all  our  efforts  at  refor- 
mation) may  be  said  to  pass  annually  into  the  ranks  of  the  adult  habitual  offenders,  and 
thus  to  serve  to  keep  up  that  unvarying  army  of  British  Arabs,  or  Sonquas,  or  Fingoes,  that 
continually  prey  upon  the  industry  of  our  people. 

In  conclusion,  it  must  not  be  presumed  that  the  above  statistical  details  ore  here  given 
with  any  desire  that  the  reader  should  put  implicit  faith  in  them.  Such  recorded  facts  as 
could  be  collected  in  connection  with  the  matter  haye  been  cited  from  the  best  authorities, 
and  conjectures  have  been  made  with  all  that  caution  which  is  so  necessary  in  reasoning 
upon  subjects  concerning  which  we  cannot  arriye  at  any  certainty.  But  the  writer 
was  anxious  of  opening  the  question  concerning  the  amount  of  waste  and  supply  among 
the  criminal  body  of  this  country;  and  it  is  believed  that  the  matter,  once  started, 
will  originate  in  the  mind  of  all  those  interested  in  the  great  social  problem  of  crime, 
a  desire  to  obtain  more  reliable  information  concerning  the  number  that  azmuolly  disappear 
firom,  and  are  drafted  into,  the  criminal  ranks.  Moreoyer,  when  the  subject  of  juvcaiilc 
delinquency  comes  to  be  regarded  in  its  relation  to  the  crimes  conunitted  by  the 
adult  and  habitual  offenders  of  the  country,  the  writer  is  assured  that  more  earnest  and 
philosophic  experiments  will  be  tried  in  connection  with  the  reformation  of  our  young 
outcasts. 

The  following  significant  table  will  form  an  apt  appendix  to  the  abore  article,  showing, 
as  it  does,  that  out  of  some  9,000  and  odd  young  offenders,  committed  to  the  Westminst^ 
House  of  Correction  between  the  years  1851 — 55,  for  thirty  different  infractions  of  the 
law,  there  were  no  less  than  6,000,  or  about  70  per  cent.,  committed  for  four  offences 
alone,  and  these  were  mostly  of  a  diBhonest  character ;  whilst  the  remaining  3,000,  it  wiU 
be  seen,  were  sent  to  prison  for  such  trivial  offences  as  throwing  stones,  obstructing 
highways,  unlawful  ringing  and  knocking  at  dooni>  &c.,  kc.  j  matters  surely  for  which 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


897 


it  is  unwise,  if  not  unjust,  to  subject  a  oMLd  to  the  lasting  disgrace,  if  not  oontaminatiQn) 
of  a  jail:— 

TABLB  SHOWtNO  THB  ATERAOB  NtJMBBB  AND  PBOVOBTIOM  PBU  CVXT,  OV  JUYENILB  MAXB  PJU- 
80NEB8  ANNVALLT  COMMITTBD  TO  TOTHILL  FIBLDS  PBISOir,  FOR  TQB  afiVBRAL  0VPBMCE8  BNT7XBBATBD 
BILOW:— 


Simple  laroeny         ..... 
Bepoted  tbieTet,  rogues,  and  vagabonda     - 
Unlawful  poBMflsbn  of  property 
Felonies,  with  impriflonment  and  hard  labour 
Begging,  or  sleeping  in  the  open  air  - 
Stealmg  fruit,  plants,  trees,  &c. 
Aoaults,  oonunon     -        .       .       -       . 
Misdemeanours,  throwing  stones,  &o. 
Wilful  damage         ..... 
Arnaults  on  police     ..... 
Gaming  ---.-.. 
Mbbehayionr  in  workhouses     ... 
Obstructing  highways       .... 
DsMirderly  apprentices      .... 
Drunk  and  disorderly        .        .        •        . 

Illegally  pawning 

Cruelty  to  animals    -        -        -        -        - 
Unlawful  ringing  and  knocking  at  doors     - 
Frands  (summarily  convicted)   ... 
Obtaining  money  by  fidse  pretences   - 
Furious  driving,  insolence  to  fares,  &c. 
Dog  stealing    -----. 
Frauds  tried  at  Sessions    .... 
Indecent  exposure  of  the  person 
Unlawful  ooUection  of  dust        ... 
Excise  offences         ..... 
Trespass,  fishing,  poaching,  &c. 
ReoeiTing  embezxled  property  ... 
Attempts  at  burglary        .... 
Assaults,  unnatural  .        .        .        -        . 

Total 


Total  from 

Proportion 

1851-65,  both 
InoluaiTe. 

Annual  Mean. 

peroent. 

,1,885 

8670 

19-97 

1,674 

3848 

18-22 

1,668 

333-6 

18-15 

1,435 

287-0 

16-62 

848 

169-6 

9-23 

369 

73-8 

4-02 

286 

57-2 

3-11 

247 

49-4 

209 

198 

89*6 

2-15 

180 

36*0 

1-95 

110 

22-0 

1-25 

96 

19-2 

104 

91 

182 

0-99 

48 

9-6 

0-52 

21 

4-2 

0-23 

18 

3-6 

0-19 

15 

8-0 

016 

10 

2-0 

O-ll 

6 

12 

007 

6 

1-2 

0-07 

5 

10 

0-05 

5 

10 

0-05 

4 

0-8 

004 

2 

0  4 

0-02 

2 

0-4 

0-02 

2 

0-4 

0-02 

2 

0-4 

0-02 

2 

0-4 

0  02 

1 

0-2 

001 

1 

0-2 

001 

9,187 

1837*4 

100-00 

398  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


Of  Ihe  Interior  o^  TothiU  Fields  Pruan. 

Assnredly,  if  it  were  not  for  the  maBsive  iron  gates,  weigliing  no  lees  than  three  tons,  and 
the  sternly-handBome  stone  gateway,  with  the  dwarf  wall  skirting  the  carriage-way  that 
leads  to  the  prison  portal,  we  should  hardly,  on  being  ushered  across  the  planted  court-yard 
that  leads  to  the  goTemor's  house,  be  led  to  imagine  that  we  were  entering  a  hoiue  of 
correction.  True,  there  is  the  same  military-looking  warder,  habited  in  the  undress  surtout 
indulged  in  by  officers  of  the  army,  and  the  same  little  office  next  the  gateway,  with  the 
row  of  cutlasses  strung  together  on  a  chain,  like  herrings  on  a  rush,  and  the  same  doping 
desks  and  ugly  ledgers  as  you  see  at  other  prisons;  nevertheless,  the  turfed  quadrangle, 
fringed  by  lines  of  drooping  ash-trees,  with  their  leafy  branches  bending  down  to  the  earth, 
as  if  they  were  so  many  arborescent  fountains  springing  from  the  ground,  and  the  pale- 
green  tufts  of  feathery-like  acacias — all  skirting  the  triangular  patches  of  bright  grass  into 
which  the  court-yard  is  diyided,  and  where  a  little  pyramid  of  black  shot  is  seen  arranged  at 
each  point  of  the  verdant  turf — ^with  here  and  there,  too,  a  white  pet  rabbit  grazing  on  the 
lawn,  or  a  corpulent  cat  basking  in  the  sun — and  the  stately-looking  governor's  hous« 
showing  at  the  end  of  the.avenue,  with  the  gold  letters  of  the  black  clock  under  the  pediment 
twinkling  in  the  light,  and  the  steps  slanting  down  from  either  side  of  the  doorway,  that  seems 
to  have  been  lifted  up  to  the  first  floor — all  these  things,  as  we  walked  down  the  prison 
pathway,  gave  us  a  notion  of  being  in  the  precinct  of  some  trim  academy,  rather  than 
a  jail.  Nor  did  the  sight  of  the  black  maid-servant,  who  came  to  the  door  while  we  waited 
for  the  governor,  with  her  bright-coloured,  turbaned  head-dress,  and  long  jetty  tresses 
hanging  about  her  shoulders,  like  skeins  of  the  softest  floss-silk,  serve  to  remove  the 
impression. 

In  a  few  moments,  however,  we  were  ushered  through  a  tall,  open-barred  gate,  and 
then  the  dismal-looking,  embrazure-like  windows,  that  remind  one  of  lunatic  asylums 
and  union  workhouses,  and,  indeed,  everything  that  has  ugly  associations  in  the  mind, 
rapidly  dispelled  the  agreeable  impressions  that  the  first  sight  of  the  place  had  produced 
upon  us. 

Here  were  the  same  radiating  blocks  of  buildings  that  we  had  been  accustomed  to  see  for 
the  last  six  months  of  our  life,  and  the  same  smell  of  oakum  in  the  air,  the  same  diamond 
gates  at  each  of  the  doors,  and  the  same  warders,  with  bunches  of  keys  in  the  shiny 
cartouche-box  at  their  hip,  and  with  the  brass  coat  of  arms  on  their  stand-up  collar,  and 
the  same  train  of  prisoners  in  sad-coloured  dresses,  branded  on  the  arms  with  letters  and 
figures  and  marks,  either  indicative  of  the  number  of  times  they  have  been  re-committed,  or 
the  class  to  which  they  belong,  or  the  badges  they  have  obtained  for  good  conduct  while 
in  prison. 

On  the  day  of  our  second  visit  to  TothiU  Fields  prison,  wo  had  arrived  some  few 
minutes  after  the  firing  of  the  gun  that  summoned  the  warders  to  their  duties — ^for  it  is  our 
custom,  when  studying  the  routine  of  a  prison,  to  begin  the  day  with  the  officials  and  to 
end  with  the  closing  of  the  institution  for  the  night ;  and  accordingly,  when  we  entered  the 
boys'  prison,  we  found  a  detachment  of  young  prisoners  drawn  up  at  the  extremity  of  one  of 
the  triangular  paved  airing-yards  in  rows  of  five,  and  each  with  his  satchel  of  books  lying 
on  the  stones  at  his  feet,  and  with  a  couple  of  warders  standing  by  in  attendance  apon 
them. 

These  boys  were  waiting  to  enter  the  lavatory  at  the  end  of  the  yard,  whilst  >»*T*g»«g 
against  the  walls  were  long  jack-towels,  at  which  some  jacketless  young  criminals,  with  their 
check  shirts  wide  open  at  the  neck,  and  their  hair  matted  into  pencils  with  the  wet^  were 
busy  drying  their  skin. 


CELL,   WITH  rniSONEK  AT  "CllANK.lAICl  R,"  IS  IHE  EIBKIY  T.OVBK  OF  COI HECTIC R. 


HOTJSB  OP  COBEEOTION,  TOTHUL  FIELDS.  899 

Some,  again,  were  busy  oombing  their  hairi  standing  vith  their  head  do^nii  as  if  ''giying 
a  back"  at  leap-firog,  and  with  their  wet  locks  hanging,  like  a  fringe  of  cameVs-hair  bruBhes, 
straight  down  from  their  forehead,  whilst  the  attendant  warders  cried  to  one  of  the  young 
prisoners,  "Yonr  brace  oyer  your  shoulder,  do  you  hear,  there?"  and  to  another,  ''Dry 
yourself  well,  boy." 

Of  the  lads  that  remained  drawn  up  in  the  yard,  one-half  were  rosy-cheeked,  their 
BJDn  Bbmj  with  the  recent  scrubbing,  and  their  hair  ribbed  like  corduroy  with  the 
teeth  of  the  comb ;  the  other  half  stood  with  their  gray  prison  jackets  thrown  loosely 
oyer  their  shoulders,  after  the  fashion  of  a  hussar,  and  the  flat  sleeyes  H^ngliTig  limp 
and  empty  as  a  Greenwich  pensioner's  by  their  sides;  whilst  from  inside  of  the  adjoining 
layatory-^where  the  soapy  water  in  the  troughs  round  the  walls  was  of  the  same  semi- 
opaque  colour  as  the  celebrated  '' sky-blue '^  of  the  Tnmham  Green  and  Wandsworth 
academies — ^there  issued  a  spluttering  andhiBsing  sound  from  the  batch  of  prisoners  washing 
themselyes,  that  reminded  one  of  the  noise  made  by  the  steam  eternally  escaping  from  the 
knot  of  locomotiyes  at  the  Chalk  Farm  Bailway  Station. 

'' The  boys  take  a  warm  bath  once  a  month,  beddes  the  usual  one  on  reception,''  said  the 
chief  warder,  who  stood  at  our  elbow;  "and  they  likewise  haye  afoot-bath  twice  eyery  week." 

It  was  soon  time  for  the  young  prisoners  to  fall  in,  preyious  to  entering  the  oakum-room; 
and  accordingly  the  newly-washed  troop,  who  appeared  cleaner  and  fresher  than  they 
probably  had  oyer  looked  before  in  all  their  Uyes,  were  marched  across  the  aiiing-yard  and 
drawn  up  behind  the  bars  of  the  tall  iron  gate  at  the  other  end. 

This  gate  seryes  to  separate  the  triangular,  flagged  space  between  the  prison  wings 
from  the  arc-shaped  inspection-yard  surrounding  the  chief  warder's  house;  and  when  we  had 
passed  through  it,  we  beheld  a  number  of  similar  gangs  of  urchin-prisoners  drawn  up  at  the 
gates  of  tiie  other  airing-yards,  and  aU  with  their  faces  glistening  with  the  morning's  soaping. 

As  we  turned  round  to  take  a  general  yiew  of  the  boys'  prison,  the  yarious  openings 
between  the  blocks  of  buildings,  diyerging  from  the  central  space  in  which  we  stood, 
reminded  us  somewhat  of  the  many  thoroughfares  radiating  from  the  Seyen  Dials ;  and  the 
reader  has  but  to  imagine  the  seyeral  streets  of  that  classic  district  to  be  replaced  by  the 
exercising-yards  of  the  prison,  and  the  monster-lamped  public-houses  and  penny-ice  shops 
that  now  form  the  termini  of  the  yarious  lines  of  houses  conyerging  to  the  St.  Giles's  centre, 
to  stand  for  the  gable  ends  of  the  different  prison  wings,  and  the  numberless  bird-fanciers' 
shops  and  halfj^enny  shaying  ditto,  to  be  changed  into  long  fortress-looking  walls,  pierced  at 
interyals  with  embrasure-like  windows — ^the  reader  has  but  to  femcy  thus  much,  we  say,  to 
haye  as  good  an  ideal  sketch  as  we  can  giye  him  of  the  boys'  prison  at  Tothill  Fields.  To 
complete  the  picture,  howeyer,  he  must  imagine  the  buildings  to  be  all  new  and  the 
colour  of  nankeen  with  their  unsullied  yellow  bricks,  and  the  spaces  between  them  to  look 
as  clean  and  desolate  as  the  streets  of  the  Metropolis  during  a  heayy  shower,  and  the 
entrance  to  each  airing-yard  to  be  railed  off  by  a  high  iron  gate,  after  the  fashion  of  some 
deserted  inn  of  court. 

Accompanied  by  the  chief  warder,  we  now  passed  to  what  is  called  "  airing-yard  7  and 
8,"  that  is  to  say,  to  the  payed  triangular  space  between  the  prison  wings  bearing  those 
numbers  respectiyely;  for  we  should  here  state  that  the  boys'  prison  at  Tothill  Fields 
consists  (like  each  of  the  two  diyisions  deyoted  to  the  females)  of  flye  distinct  wings  or 
radii,  with  a  triangular  court-yard  between  eyery  two  of  them — ^the  flrst  and  last  of  such 
wings  being  single  prisons,  and  the  three  others  double  ones,  and  the  so-called  double 
prisons  haying  each  an  entrance  from  the  airing-yard  on  either  side  of  them.*     Thus^ 

*  In  aaoh  doable  prison  there  too  fifty-six  separate  oells,  ezoeptixig  in  prison  2  and  3,  which  has  only 
thirty-six,  on  aooovnt  of  the  laige  dormitory  oconpying  the  upper  floor.    No.  1  (single)  prison  has  twenty- 
one  cells,  and  Ko.  8  (also  a  single  prison)  but  ten  cells  j  for  the  school-room,  tailors'  and  shoemaketsr  shops,  are 
Btnate  in  this  part  of  the  bnilding. 
29* 


400  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

prison  1  is  a  "  single  prison,"  and  next  to  it  comes  airing-yard  1  and  2 ;  then  £>11owb 
''  prison  2  and  3/'  and  then  airing-yard  3  and  4 ;  after  this  we  hare  '^  prison  4  and  5,"  and 
after  that  airing-yard  5  and  6;  the  latter  adjoins  <' prison  6  and  7/'  which,  in  its  tarn, 
fo^ms  one  side  of  airing-yard  7  and  8  ;  whilst  at  the  other  side  of  the  airing-yard  stands  the 
remaining  single  ''prison  8.*'  Across  the  farther  end  or  hase  of  the  triangular  airing-yard, 
termed  ^*  7  and  8/'  there  is  hnilt  a  large  shed,  and  this  forms  the  oakum-room  of  the  boys* 
prison;  thither  the  young  prisoners  who,  as  we  have  said,  stood  drawn  up  in  gangs  at  ^e 
g^tes  of  the  various  yards  after  their  morning  wash,  were  now  about  to  pass,  in  order  to 
begin  their  day's  labour  at ''  teasing"  the  old  junk. 

As  we  entered  this  yard,  we  found  it  littered  with  tubs,  having  each  a  board  across  the 
top,  on  which  stood  a  tin  can  and  holjBtone  ready  for  scouring  the  flags,  whilst  a  priBonar 
was  busy  washing  a  pile  of  metal  panikins,  in  the  centre  of  the  open  space. 

<<  You  can  pass  them  in  now,"  said  the  warder ;  and  the  order  was  no  sooner  given  than 
the  keys  rattled  in  the  locks  of  the  nearest  exeroising-yard,  and  the  gates  groaned  as  they 
turned  heavily  on  their  hinges.  ''  Pass  on,"  said  one  of  the  warders ;  and  then  the  boys 
from  ''  6  and  7  "  came  filing  along,  one  after  another,  in  a  continuous  sfaream,  each  with  his 
small  canvas  satchel  of  books  dangling  from  his  hand;  these  were  immediately  followed  by 
the  urchins  from  ''  3  and  4,"  and  when  this  yard  was  emptied,  those  from  *'  1  and  2"  kept 
up  the  apparently  endless  line. 

TVe  now  entered  the  oakum-room  at  the  end,  as  we  said,  of  yard  7  and  8,  and  found  the 
interior  of  the  shed  somewhat  like  a  large  barn,  with  the  whitewashed  tie-beams  and  rafters 
showing  overhead.  The  shed  was  filled  with  seats,  that  ranged  frx>m  one  end  of  the  long 
rooni  to  the  other,  and  stood  on  a  slightly-inclined  plane,  so  as  to  have  the  appearance  of  a 
large  booth  at  a  fair  or  stand  at  a  race-groimd — with  the  exception  that  the  side  which  is 
usually  open  at  such  places  was,  in  the  prison,  fitted  with  the  peculiar  lengthy  windows 
that,  in  the  district  of  Spitalfields,  are  termed  ^*  long-lights."  Here  was  the  same  tarry 
smell  of  oakum  as  is  peculiar  to  all  such  places. 

At  th^  time  of  our  entry,  the  serving  out  of  the  oakum  for  the  day's  labour  was  going 
on.  At  one  end  of  the  room  was  a  warder,  sitting  beside  a  small  box  of  hooks  and  a  pair  of 
lai^,  buttermonger-like  scales.  Near  these  stood  three  boy-prisoners,  with  baskets  of 
brown,  tarry,  old  junk,  and  bits  of  rope  close  beside  them.  One  of  the  boys  placed  a 
bundle  of  the  junk  into  the  scale-pan,  whilst  another  stood  by  with  the  weights  in  his  hand 
— ^two  pounds  in  one  and  one  and  a  half  in  the  other — and  placed  either  the  heavier  or  the 
lighter  one  in  the  scale,  according  as  the  lad  to  whom  the  bundle  of  strands  was  served  out 
was  older  or  younger. 

"Boys  of  sixteen,"  said  the  chief  warder  to  us,  *' have  two  poimds  of  junk  given  out  to 
them ;  those  under  sixteen,  one  and  a  half  pound ;  and  those  under  nine  years  of  age,  only 
one  pound.  Some  of  the  young  ones,  however,  who  have  been  in  the  prison  many  times 
before,  have  one  and  a  half  pound  to  do ;  and  they  manage  it  better  even  than  the  older  lads." 

The  oakum  is  ready  weighed  into  parcels  of  the  various  quantities  before  it  comes  to  the 
work-room,  and  being  sorted  into  different  baskets,  it  has,  in  the  morning,  only  to  be  serred 
out.  The  weights,  however,  are  placed  in  the  scale  at  the  same  time,  so  that  the  prisoner 
may  see  that  he  gets  no  more  than  his  fair  allowance. 

As  we  stood  beside  the  warder  at  the  end,  the  boys  came  flHng  past  the  scales,  the 
balance  clicking  the  while,  as  the  several  bundles  were  thrown  from  the  baskets  into  the 
pan,  and  the  hooks  rattling  in  the  box  as  each  of  the  prisoners  dipped  into  it. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  lads  were  all  busy  at  their  day's  work,  with  the  hooks  tied  just  above 
the  knee;  some  ''fiddling  away,"  as  the  prison  phrase  goes,  at  the  unravelled  yam  passed  across 
the  hook,  and  others  rolling  the  loosened  strands  backwards  along  the  other  thigh,  which 
seemed  to  be  coated  with  glue,  from  the  tar  with  which  it  had  got  to  be  covered,  while  theat- 
ipiosphere  of  the  place  grew  gradually  hazed  with  the  dust  of  the  abraded  tow  flying  in  the  air. 

A  death-like  silence  prevailed  throughout  the  place,  and  round  the  room  the  warders  sat 


HOUSE  OP  COMtECnON,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


401 


on  )aghf  lawyer's-derk-like  stoolfl,  with  their  eyes  inttotly  fixed  on  the  yotmg  nrchinSi  and 
leady  to  put  a  stop  to  the  least  attempt  at  communication  among  them. 

**  They  are  kept  at  the  oaknm-work  for  nearly  five  hours  altogether  in  the  day/'  the 
chief  warder  informed  us;  ''and  they  are  expected/'  he  added,  ''each  to  do  the  qnantity 
serred  out  to  them  in  that  time.  They  begin  at  a  quarter  past  seven,  and  continue  working 
till  half-past  four,  with  the  interrals  of  an  hour  and  three-quarters  for  their  meals  during 
the  day,  as  well  as  an  hour  for  exercising,  and  another  hour  and  three-quarters  for  schooling 
and  Divine  service."* 

We  afterwards  learnt,  on  visiting  the  oakum-store,  that  there  is,  altogeth^,  about  from 
24  to  26  cwt.  of  oakum  picked,  on  an  average,  every  week,  in  TothiU  Fields  prison.  Of 
this  quantity,  the  boys  do  nearly  one-half,  or  between  11  and  12  cwt.f 

*  The  following  is  a  list  of  the  routine  in  the  boys'  pxison  at  TothiU  Fields :-« 
Ik.  m. 

6  25.  Gun  fired  for  admission  of  warden. 

ft  30.  Unlocking  of  piiaoners'  cells  and  washing  of  boySi. 

7  0.  Work  beg^ 

8  30.  Breakfast. 

9  15.  Ghapd. 

10  15.  Exercise,  work,  and  school ;  the  boys  being  thus  ooonpied,  ia  diffeient  detachments,  at 

the  same  time. 
2    0.  Dinner. 
8    0.  Work,  ezerdse,  and  schooL 

4  30.  Workendi 

5  0.  Work  given  in. 

6  80.  Sapper. 

6    0.  Lock  np  for  the  ni^t. 
6  15.  Warders  go  off  du^. 

Time  occupied  in  meals,  2}  hours. 

„       „        in  exercising,  chapel,  and  schooling,  2}  hours* 

„        „         in  labour,  6  hours. 

t  We  were  furnished  with  the  following  official  account  of  the  quantity  of  oakum  picked  at  this  prison : — 

A  STATEKEMT  07  THB  QUAMTITT  OF  JUNX  I8ST7XD  TO  EACH  PRIBONSB,  ICALB  AND  TKKXLE,   DAILY. 


Bon. 

1 

FXXALM. 

Atthaare 
of  16. 

trader  the 
age  of  16. 

:  Under  the 
age  of  9. 

16  years  of 

age  and 

upwards. 

Under  the 
age  of  16. 

Females  irith 

thoir 

children. 

2  lbs. 

IJlb. 

lib. 

Ulb. 

lib. 

lib. 

A  SSPARATB  ACX^OniT  07  OAKUM  PICXSD  DAILY  BY  THB  MALE  AND  FBMALB  PBIS0NBB8« 


1 

BOTS. 

1                                        FmcALXs. 

Date-1866. 

Number 
employed. 

Quantities. 

1 

Date— 1856. 

Number 
employed. 

Qaantitiet. 

cwt. 

2 

1 
2 
I 
2 
2 

qrs. 

0 
3 
0 
2 
0 
0 

lbs. 

0 
9 
0 
24 
24 
2 

cwt. 

qrs. 

lbs. 

0 
8 

11 

13 

June  29 — Saturday     .    . 
July    1— Monday.    .    . 

„     2 — ^Tuesday.    .    . 

„     3 — ^Wednesday     . 

„     4— Thursday    .    . 

„     5 — Friday    .    .    . 

Total 

164 
153 
162 
152 
157 
154 

.  June  29— Saturday    .    . 
July    1 — Monday.    .    . 
„      2 — ^Tuesday.    .     . 
,,      8-^Wednesday.    . 
„     4— Thursday    .    . 
„     5 — FHday   .    .    . 

Total      ...... 

189 
182 
186 
183 
190 
194 

2 
2 
2 
2 
2 
2 

13 

2 
0 

e 

0 
0 
0 

942 

11 

3 

3 

1,124 

0 

n 

ewt.qra»lbe. 
Total  picked  by  the  boys  in  the  week     .  .113    3 

Ayerage  per  diem  « 1     3  23  14  oz. 

Ayerage  by  each  boy,  per  diem       ....  1  6-i^ 

Gross,  quantity  of  oakum  picked  by  boys,  per  annum,  about  31  tons. 

This,  at  £4  10».  per  ton,  which  is  the  price  paid  for  the  picking,  jgiyes,  as  the  yearly  earnings'  of  the 


402  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

In  the  oaknm-room^  at  the  period  of  our  yisit,  there  were  altogether  about  eome  150  of 
mere  children  congregated  together.  Some  of  the  boys,  seated  on  the  lower  fonnSy  were 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  prison-blue,  marking  that  they  were  imprisoned  for  misdemeanours, 
and  n<4  sentenced  to  hard  labour.  Others  were  habited  in  suits  of  iron-gray,  to  note 
that  they  haye  been  sentenced  to  be  kept  at  hard  labour,  being  known  technically  as 
^'flnmmary  boys,"  i,  e.9  they  had  been  committed  by  the  magistrates,  rather  Hian  after 
trial.  Others,  again,  had  yellow  collars  to  the  waistcoats  of  their  gray  suits,  and  this 
was  to  mark  them  as  **  sessions' "  prisoners,  or,  in  other  words,  as  those  who  had  been 
tried  and  found  guilty  of  larceny  or  felony.  All  the  boys  wore  striped  tricolour  wooUen 
night-caps,  which  were  arranged,  by  tucking  down  the  'peak,  into  the  form  of  an  ordinaiy 
day-cap.  Besides  these  vestiary  distinctions,  there  were  others,  which  consisted  of  letten 
and  marks  attached  to  the  left  arm—- such  as  either  a  large  figure  1  or  2,  in  yellow  doth, 
to  denote  the  class  of  prisoners  to  which  they  belonged — ^the  third-class  prisoners  being  un- 
marked, and  consisting  of  such  as  had  been  sentenced  to  be  imprisoned  for  fourteen  days,  or 
under.  The  second-dass  prisoners,  however,  on  the  other  hand,  were  under  imprisonment  for 
three  months ;  whilst  the  first  were  those  who  had  more  than  three  months'  incarceration 
to  undergo.  Moreover,  some  of  the  boys  had  red  marks,  besides  the  yellow  ones,  to  indicate 
the  number  of  times  they  had  been  previously  committed;  others,  again,  had  badges,  show- 
ing that  they  were  imprisoned  for  two  years,  whilst  others  had  a  yellow  ring  on  the  left 
arm,  to  denote  that  their  sentence  was  penal  servitude. 

Once  conversant  with  these  distinctions,  it  was  indeed  a  melancholy  sight  to  look  at  that 
century  and  a-half  of  mere  children  in  their  prison  clothes.  Some  were  so  young,  that  they 
seemed  to  need  a  nurse,  rather  than  a  jailer,  to  watch  over  them;  others,  again,  had  such 
frank  and  innocent-looking  faces,  that  we  could  not  help  fancying  they  had  no  business 
there;  whilst  others  had  such  shamdessness  and  cunning  painted  in  tliexr  features,  that 
the  mind  was  led  insensibly  towards  fatalism,  and  to  bdieve  in  criminal  races  as  thoroughly 
as  in  cretin  ones.  Many,  again,  were  remarkable  &x  those  peculiar  Irish  gray  eyes,  which 
seem,  with  their  long  black  lashes— iets  Lady  Moigan  said — ''to  have  been  put  in  with  dirty 
fingers." 

"We  have  before  remarked,  that  the  greater  number  of  the  profesdonal  thieves  of  London 
bdong  to  what  ia  called  the  Irish-Cockney  tribe ;  and  at  the  boys'  prison  at  Tothill  Pields 
we  can  see  the  little  Hibemian  juvenile  offender  being  duly  educated  for  the  experienced 
thief.  Some  bigots  seek  to  make  out  that  the  excess  of  crime  in  connection  with  the 
Irish  race  is  due  directly  or  indirectly  to  the  influence  of  the  prevailing  religion  of  that 
country ;  and  small  handbills  are  industriously  circulated  among  the  fanatic  firequenters  of 
Sxeter  Hall,  informing  one  how,  in  Papal  countries,  the  ratio  of  criminala  to  the  populatioa 
is  enormously  beyond  that  of  Protestant  kingdoms.  From  sudi  documents,  however,  the 
returns  of  Belgium  are  usually  omitted,  for  these  would  prove  that  there  is  reaUy  no 
truth  in  the  theory  sought  to  be  established ;  since  it  is  shown,  by  the  tables  printed  by 
Mr.  M'Culloch  in  his  ''  G^eographical  Dictionary,"  that  whereas  the  ratio  of  criminals  to 
the  gross  population  of  the  country  is  in  Papal  Belgium  1*9,  and  in  Bomanist  Eranoe  3*3, 
to  every  10,000  individuals,  it  is  in  Ptotestant  England  as  many  as  12-5  to  the  same  definite 
number  of  people,  and  in  Sweden  as  high  as  87*7;  so  that  it  is  plain  that  mere  difSerenoes 
of  rdigious  creeds  cannot  possibly  exj^hin  the  different  criminal  tendendes  amoqg  different 
races  of  people.* 

groM  number  of  the  boys  employed  ia  oakum-pioldiig,  £132.     Therefore^  each  boy^prisoner  employed  at 
Oikma-pioking  may  be  seid  to  esm  about  17«.  per  annum  by  their  labour. 

Kow,  by  the  offloial  retonu,  ire  And  that  the  avenge  eost  per  head  of  the  prieonen  at  Tothill  Fidds 
ii  within  a  fractum  of  £8,  eo  that  it  foUowi  that  there  is  a  loei  of  very  nearly  £7  a-yetr  upon  each  of  die 
boys  so  employed* 

*  '*  In  Belgium,"  says  Mr.  M'CuIlooh,  <'  the  amount  of  crane,  vith  regard  to  the  pflfulatifta,  aad  to  Ihe 
eximiaal  leoords  of  France  and  England,  is  comparatiToly  small.    H.  Dn^petiaaZ|  in  a  work  pohlishsd  in 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTIOir,  TOTHILL  HELDS. 


403 


As  to  what  may  be  the  cause  of  crime  in  Ireland  we  are  not  in  a  position  to  speak,  not 
liaving  given  any  special  attention  to  the  matter;  but  the  reason  why  there  appears  a 
greater  proportion  of  Irish  among  the  thieves  and  yagrants  of  our  own  conntry,  admits  of  a 
very  ready  explanation.  The  Irish  constitnte  the  poorest  portion  of  our  people,  and  the 
duldren,  therefore,  are  virtnally  orphans  in  this  country,  left  to  gambol  in  the  streets  and 
courts,  without  parental  control,  from  their  very  earliest  years ;  the  mothers,  as  well  as 
the  fJEtthers,  being  generally  engaged  throughout  the  day  in  some  of  the  ruder  forms  of  labour 
or  street  trade.  The  consequence  is,  that  the  child  grows  up  not  only  unacquainted  with 
any  industrial  occupation,  but  untrained  to  habits  of  daily  work ;  and  long  before  he  has 
learned  to  control  the  desire  to  appropriate  the  articles  which  he  either  wants  or  likes,  by  a 
sense  of  the  rights  of  property  in  others,  he  has  acquired  fiirtiye  propensities  from  association 
^th  the  young  thieves  located  in  his  neighbourhood. 

He  has  learnt,  too,  what  is  much  worse,  thieves'  morals— morals  which,  once  in  the 
heart,  it  is  almost  hopeless  to  attempt  to  root  out.  He  has  leamt  to  look  upon  **  pluck/'  or 
daring,  as  the  greatest  virtue  of  life ;  he  has  leamt  to  regard  all  those  who  labour  for  an 
honest  living  as  '^  flats,"  or,  in  plain  English,  fools ;  he  has  leamt  to  consider  trickery,  or 
''artful  dodges,"  as  he  calls  them,  as  the  highest  possible  exercise  of  the  intellect,  and 
to  believe  that  the  main  object  in  life  is  amusement  rather  than  labour.  His  attention  has 
never  been  trained  to  occupy  itself  with  any  one  subject  for  five  minutes  together,  nor  have 
his  impulses  been  placed  under  the  least  restraint.  What  wonder,  then,  that  he  grows  up 
a  mere  savage  amongst  civilized  men ! 

But  whatever  be  the  cause,  the  fact  is  incontestible,  that  a  very  large  proportion  of  the 
juvenile  prisoners  are  the  children  of  Irish  parents.    Indeed,  as  one  looks  up  and  down  the 


1835,  entitled,  ^SiaUaque  Oompari$  dc  la  CrmmaliU  en  France,  en  Belffique,  en  Anglet$rre  ei  en  JUemagm^* 
giTM  tiiie  following  recults  of  the  several  official  zeturns :— Of  England,  from  1827  to  1888,  taking  the 
poiN]]ati0n  at  13,500,000 ;  of  France,  from  1825  to  1882,  population  82,500,000 ;  and  of  Belgium,  firom  1826 
to  1832,  population  4,000,000." 


OrantriM. 

Annual  Arerage. 

Number 
Aoooaedto 

10,000  of 

Total  AcoQBed. 

Acquitted. 

Om^l^nnnfi^.* 

England      .... 

France 

Belgium 

16,924 

7,840 

766 

8,556 

.    2,954 

142 

13,868 

4,886 

624 

12-5 
2-8 
1-9 

Mr.  Claxke,  the  Looal  Inspeotor  and  Chaplain  of  the  jail  in  the  oonnty  Donegal,  Ireland,  fbmishes  the 
fdloiring  comparative  atatiatioa  of  orime  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland  in  1852  :— 

TABLB  BHOWnrO  THS  PBOPOBXIOK  07,  Oil  FSBSOITO  OHAllOBD  WITH,  OHnOKAL  OVnOrdS  TO  TEI  POPULATION 
(xXCLtrSXTB  OP  OASES  OP  SUIQCABT  JTJBISnXOnON)  IN  BACK  OP  THB  THBEB  DIYISIONS  OP  THB  VNIHn 
XTNODOX. 


DiTision. 

• 

Population  in  1851. 

Number  of 
AoouaedinlSftS. 

Number  of 
Acouaedin 

OTerr 
10,000  of  the 

Ensland  and  Wales  . 

Ireland 

Scotland 

17,922,768 
6,515,794 
2,870,784 

27,510 

17,678 

4,027 

15-3 
27-2 
140 

United  Kingdom  •    . 

27,309,346 

49,215 

18*0 

404 


THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


different  forms  in  the  boys'  oakum-room  at  Tothill  Fields,  the  unmiatakable  gray  eyes  are 
foand  to  prevail  among  the  little  felons  assembled  there.^ 


*  We  havo  been  at  conaiderable  pains  to  aaoertain,  from  tho  GoTernmont  Betivras,  the  £airiot«  fimuliing 
the  greatest  number  of  juvenile  offenders.  For  this  purpose,  we  hare  collated  the  records  fumished  in  the 
Beports  of  tho  Inspectors  of  Prisons  for  five  years  consecutively,  and  ascertained  the  annual  average  number 
of  prisoners  of  all  ages,  as  well  as  the  annual  average  number  of  thoae  under  1 7  years  of  age — or,  in  other  words, 
the  juvenile  offenders  for  each  county  in  England  and  Wales.  We  have  then  estimated  the  proportion  per 
cent  that  the  juvenile  offenders  bear  to  those  of  all  ages.    The  result  is  given  in  the  following  table:— 

TABLB    SHOWIlfO    THB    ANNT7AX   AVEKAQB    PER  CENTAGB    OF    JUVBSTLB    FRI8>>NBKS    TO    THB  OBOSS  FBIBOir 
POPULATIOX,  OF  ALL   AOBS,  FOB  BACH  COUNTY  IS  KSQLASl}  AND  WALBS,  F&OX    1849-63    (bOTK  INCLUSITB). 


'f 

to     » 

2 

&    § 

&^i 

ill 

9%m  a 

a  "  fl 

j«  2  J 

P^  B 

?  * 

CbVKTlES. 

-IS.  -|s.| 

CouKTisa. 

•  "J 

Sit 

HI 

§j! 

1M  lh\ 

»i| 

Ih 

s 

a  u  a 

3KI 
5-5 

<       3 

H 

Bedford     .    .     . 

813-6 

45-2 

>forlolk      .     .     . 

2406-8 

313-6 

140 

Berks  .     .     . 

1408-2 

146-8 

10-4 

,  Northampttm .     . 

11960 

87  0 

7-2 

Bucks  .     .     . 

913-8 

83-8 

91 

j  Northumberland. 

:     23382 

383-2 

16-3 

Cambridge 

1436-2 

1220 

8-5 

Nottingham   .    . 

1      1420-0 

145-8 

10-2 

Chester 

3472*4 

375-8 

10-8 

Oxford  .... 

1251-6 

980 

79 

Cornwall  . 

8650 

86-4 

9-9 

Rutland    .     .     . 

^        104-6 

11-0 

10*5 

Cumberland  . 

7030 

80-0 

11-3 

Salop    .... 

1297-4 

112-8 

8-6 

Derby  .    . 

1218-2 

117-6 

9-6  li  Somerset  .     .     . 

4413-8 

6708 

15-2 

Devon  .    . 

3047-8 

306-0    100  !i  Southampton  .     . 

2776-6 

298-2 

10-7 

Dorset  .     . 

986*4 

107-2    10-8  1 

•  Stafford     .     .     . 

3970-4 

328*2 

8*2 

Durham    .     , 

2058-0 

126-2 

61 

1  Suffolk       .    .     . 

1958-6 

1750 

8-4 

Essex    .    . 

2345-6 

266-6 

11-3 

Surrey  .... 

8403  0 

1231-8 

14-6 

Gloucester 

2652-8 

317-2 

119 

Sussex  .... 

1872-6 

215-4     11*5 1 

Hereford   . 

617-8 

41-2 

6-6 

Warwick  .    .    . 

3479-2 

481*2 

13-8 

Hertford    . 

1117-6 

91*2 

8-1 

Westmoreland    . 

319-2 

20-0 

6-2 

Huntingdon 

384-4 

24-6 

6-4 

VVilte    .     .     .     . 

1509-6 

118-8 

7-8 

Kent    .    . 

4663-6 

432-8 

93 

Worcester .     .     . 

1611-2 

1606 

99 

Lancaster . 

2114-0 

2438-2 

110 

York     .... 

11368*8 

1041-0 

9-1 

Leicester  . 

1588-2 

153-4 

9-6 

North  Wales  .    . 

970  8 

5i*2 

6-2 

Lincoln     . 
Middlesex . 

2489-0 

A  f  f  ^>  .  A 

2030 

8-1 

South  Wales .    . 

2363-2 

126-4 

6-8 

2556*2 

4275-4  ;  i6'i 

fn    A    %  0      *n       1         ^M. 

Monmouth 

10850 

82-4      7  6 

1 

Total  for  England) 
and  Wales   .    { 

143769-8 

16008-2 

111 

Arranging,  then,  the  counties  in  their  order,  according  as  the  per  oentage  of  juvenile  offenders  is  tilhtr 
above  or  below  the  general  avenge  for  the  whole  country,  we  have  the  subjoined  result: — 


CountUt  in  ichieh  tA«  FrepotiioH  of  Juvenile  Triton^re  it  Above  the  Artm^e, 


Northumberland 
Somerset  •  . 
Surrey     .    .    • 


16*3]  Norfolk 


15*2 
14*6 


Warwick 
Middlesex 


14-0 
13*8 
13*1 


Gloucester 
Sussex     . 


Lancaster  « 

Chester    .  . 

Dorset     .  . 
Southampton 

Rutland  .  . 

Berks      .  . 

Notts  .    .  . 

Devon    .  . 


Gountiee  in  whieh  the  Proportion  of  Juvenile  Frieonere  is  Behw  the  Average, 


11-0 
10-8 
10-8 
10*7 
10-5 
10-4 
10-2 
10*0 


Cornwall 
Worcester 
Leicester 
Derby      , 
Kent  .    . 
Bucks     . 
York  .    . 
Cambridge 


90 
9-9 
9-6 
96 
9*3 
9-1 
9-1 
8-6 


Shropshire 
Suffolk  . 
Stafford  . 
Hertford 
Linooln  . 
Oxford  . 
Wilts.  . 
Monmouth 


11-9 

Essex      .    •    . 

.    11-3 

11-5 

Cumberland 

.    11-3 

iOthi 

Average, 

8-6 

Northampton    . 

.      7-2 

8-4 

Hereford      .    .    ■ 

6-6 

8-2 

Huntingdon 

.      6-4 

81 

Westmoreland  . 

.      6-2 

8-1 

Durham  •    .    . 

.      6-1 

7*9 

Bedford  .    .    . 

.      5-6 

7-8 

South  Wales    . 

.     33 

7-6 

North  Walet    .    . 

.     52 

Average  for  all  England  and  Wales        11*1 


Hence  we  perceire  that  those  counties  in  which  the  large  towns  are  situate  furnish  the  greater  piepor- 
tion  of  young  criminals;  for,  whereas  there  is  upon  an  average  but  11  juvenile  offenders  in  eveiy  100 
prisoners  throughout  England  and  Wales,  Northumberland  (in  which  the  town  of  Newcastle  is  situatr)  hf» 


BIBD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  TUB  SUBBET  HOUSE  OF  CORBECIIOH  At  WANDSITORTB. 


HOUSE  OF  CORKECTIOir,  TOTHIIL  FIELDS. 


405 


We  know  of  no  sight  in  London  so  terribly  pathetic — it  not  tragic — as  this  same  oaknm- 
room,  at  the  boys'  prison  at  Westminster.  We  envy  not  the  man  who  can  enter  a  jail  with 
the  same  light  heart  as  he  goes  to  a  theatre.  To  behold  large  nnmbers  of  men-,  or  eyen 
women-,  filona— dense  masses  of  wild  passions,  aa  it  were,  gathered  together  under  one 
roo^  snch  as  one  sees  either  working,  like  so  many  spectres,  in  the  large  rooms  at  Goldbath 
Fields,  or  praying  with  one  yoice  in  the  chapels  of  the  convict  prisons,  or  sleeping  in  their 
hammoeks  between  the  decks  at  the  Hulks — w  a  scene  that  alwa]^  stirs  the  heart  and  brain 
with  thoughts  too  deep  for  utterance.    The  ordinary  citizen  knows  crime  only  as  an  ex- 


no  less  than  16  in  the  100 ;  whUe  Someitet,  of  wkich  Bristol  is  the  chief  town,  yields  15  in  the  100.  Again, 
fimrey,  from  its  eonneetum  with  the  Metropolis,  Norfolk  (of  which  Norwich  is  an  integrant  part),  and  War- 
wick  (to  which  Birmingham  belongs),  and  Middlesex  (L<mdon),  and  Gloucester  (the  city  of  Gloucester),  all 
retom  from  14}  to  12  young  "jail  birds"  to  each  century  of  prisoners.  So,  too,  Lancaster  (the  seat  of 
liyerpool  and  Manchester)  and  Chester  show  so  large  a  per  centage,  as  to  be  only  just  below  the  ayerage ; 
whilst  the  more  primitiye  districts  of  Westmoreland  and  Durham,  and  the  yarious  parts  of  North  and  South 
Wales,  giye  only  between  5  and  6  per  cent  of  youthful  delinquents. 

As  regards  the  Metropolis  itself,  the  annexed  table  (which  has  been  kindly  famished  to  us  by  one  of  the 
Middlesex  magistrates)  shows  that  41  per  cent  of  the  boys  confined  in  TothUl  Fields  prison,  are  sent  from 
the  Great  Marlborough  Street  police-officoi  and  24  per  cent,  from  Bow  Street  ditto ;  whilst  the  districts  of 
dakenweU  and  Marylebone  supply  only  8  per  cent  respectiyely,  and  Westminster  and  the  Thames  poUoe- 
offioe  each  nearly  5)  per  cent ;  making  altogether  about  94j^  in  eyery  100  young  criminals  sent  by  the 
metropolitan  districts,  and  leaying  only  about  5|  for  those  coming  from  the  raial  districts  of  the  county  of 
Middlesex.  Of  the  latter,  again,  it  will  be  seen  that  Hammersmith  furnishes  by  far  the  greater  proportion. 
Then  IbBows  tJxbridge,  then  Brentford,  Bamet,  and  Twickenham ;  whilst  Honnslow,  Highgate,  Tottenham, 
Snfield,  and  SouthaU,  oontribute  none  to  the  zetoins,  which,  it  should  be  remembered,  haye  in  all  instanoes 
been  made  to  comprise  a  series  of  years. 


TABU  sHownra  ths  pla.cbb  from 

WHICH  THB  B0T-PBIS0NBB8  AT  TOTHILL  nSLDS  WBBB  OOKXirrBD 

DUBINO  TEB  TBABS  SNDIKQ  1852-54. 

m 

1852. 

1853. 

1854. 

TotftL 

Mean. 

Per 
oentage. 

tinder 
12yearf 
of  age. 

Uand 

under 

14. 

Under 
12. 

12  and 

under 

14. 

Under 
13. 

13  and 

under 

14. 

Metropolitan  DUUricU-^ 

Great  Marlborough  Street     . 
Bow  Street 

* 

5 
4 

2 

1 

13 

27 

8 

6 

22 
8 
2 
2 

1 
1 

22 
9 
3 
5 
2 
7 
1 

14 
3 

5 
2 
1 

1 

19 
5 
7 
5 
1 
2 

95 
56 
17 
17 
13 
11 
2 

31 

18 
6 
6 
4 

4 
1 

419 
24-3 
81 
81 
5-4 
5-4 
I'S 

Clerkenwell 

Marylebone 

Thames  PoUoe-conrt    .    . 
Worship  Street  •    .    •    •    < 

1        • 
ft        • 

Total  Metronolitan  •    •    .    ^    - 

12 

49 

36 

49 

26 

39 

211 

70 

94*6 

XTxbridge  • 

Brentford 

Bamet 

Twickenham 

Soanslow  ..•••• 

Highgate 

Tottenham 

'Rnfleld 

SouthaU 

'    ' 

1 

1 

3 

1 

3 

1 
1 

1 

7 
2 

1 
1 
1 

2 
1 

2'7 
1-3 

TotalBnrsl 

— 

1 

— 

1 

4 

6 

12 

4 

5-4 

efrmd  JhtdlMftrepoliian  tmd  Sm 

ro/. 

12 

50 

86 

50 

80 

45 

223 

74 

100- 

* 

406 


m 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOlf . 


ceptional  thing — ^he  hears  or  reads  of  merely  indwuhud  inftances,  and  has  never  been  aecuB- 
tomed  to  think  of  it,  much  more  to  look  upon  it  in  the  ma$$  ;  so  that  the  first  sight  of  a 
large  concourse  of  thieves,  and  murderers,  and  cheats,  fills  him  with  entirely  new  impressionfl. 
Crime  seems  then  to  be  as  much  a  part  of  the  organization  of  society  as  even  religion  itself; 
and  soon  there  follows  the  inquiry — ^Must  such  things  always  be  ?  Though  we  get  rid  of 
some  two  thousand  old  criminals  every  year,  will  there  ever  be  some  two  thousiand  young 
ones  ready  to  spring  into  their  place  ?* 

The  answer  to  the  question  is  to  be  found  only  in  such  places  as  we  are  now  describing. 
We  have  before  spoken  of  convict-nurseries— of  baby-felons,  bom  and  suckled  in  prison ;  and 
now  we  have  to  speak  of  felon-academies,  where  the  young  offender  is  duly  trained  and 
educated  for  the  Hulks.  True,  the  place  is  called  a  house  of  correction;  but,  rightly 
viewed,  it  is  simply  a  criminal  preparatory  school,  where  students  are  qualified  for  matri- 
culating at  MOlbank  or  Pentonville.  Here  we  find  little  creatures  of  six  years  of  age 
branded  with  a  felon's  badge — ^boys,  not  even  in  their  teens,  clad  in  the  prison  dress,  for  the 
heinous  offence  of  throwing  stones,  or  obstructing  highways,  or  xmlaw^illy  knocking  at 
doors— crimes  which  the  very  magistrates  themselves,  who  committed  the  youths,  must 
have  assuredly  perpetrated  in  their  boyhood,  and  which,  if  equally  visited,  would  consign 
almost  every  child  in  the  kingdom  to  a  jail. 

A  table  of  the  ages  of  the  wretched  little  beings  confined  in  TothUl  Fields  prison  affords 
a  wondrous  insight  into  the  criminal  history  of  the  coimtry.  Between  the  years  1851  and 
1855  there  were  upwards  of  9,000  boys,  under  seventeen  years  of  age,  committed  to  the 
House  of  Correction  at  Westminster.  This  gives  an  annual  average  of  1,800  and  odd,  and 
of  these,  upwards  of  1,500,  or  about  85^  per  cent.,  were  committed  by  themagistmtos; 
whilst,  of  the  number  so  committed,  945  were  between  fourteen  and  seventeen  years  of  age. 


*   THE  ANNSXBD  TABLE  8H0W8  THE  KTTHBSB  OF  TRAKSPORTB  FOR  A  8BHIB8  OF  TSABS  :• 


1 

Teait. 

Total  number 
convicted 

at  Assizes  and 
Sessions. 

Total  nnmber 

of 
Tranqwrts. 

Proportion 

per  cent,  of 

Transports  to 

total  nnmber 

ConTicted. 

Proportioii 

of  Transporti 

per  100,000  gross 

England  and 
Wales. 

ENOLAxm  andWalbs     / 

t 

( 

1841 
1842 
1843 
1844 
1845 
1846 
1847 
1848 
1849 
1850 
1851 
1852 
1853 

19,548 
22,513 
21,425 
19,054 
17,932 
18,071 
28,121 
22,856 
21,715 
20,308 
21,663 
21,160 
20,642 

8,788 

4,229 

4,166 

3,437 

3,092 

2,894     • 

2,726     • 

3,207 

3,099 

2,514 

2,943 

3,860 

2,526 

19-38 

18-79- 

19-44-     • 

18-04' 

17-25-     • 

16-02 

13-10' 

1404 

14*27 

12-38 

13-58 

18-24 

12-24 

23-80 
26-26 
25-57 
20-84 
18*53 
17-18 
15-95 
18-55 
17-71 
14-20 
16-40 
21-25 
13-72 

Annual  mean  .    . 

20,593 

3,268 

• 

15-91 

•      19*22 

f 

Hence  it  would  appear  that  the  arerage  number  of  transports  is,  in  round  numbers,  about  3,250  per 
annum,  and  this  out  of  a  total  of  20,500  convicted,  which  is  an  average  of  about  16  per  cent  of  tiie  graas 
number  found  guilty,  or  very  nearly  2  in  every  10,000  of  the  whole  population  of  the  ooi^ntzy.  By  t  tsJila 
before  given  (see  anU,  p.  97),  it  was  shown  that  the  number  actually  transported  during  the  twenty  yean  troux 
1830  to  1850,  yielded  an  average  of  2,477  per  annum.  Of  the  transports^  one-half,  or  50-9  in  eveiy  100,  are. 
upon  the  average,  sentenced  to  7  and  under  10  years'  term;  31*7  to  10  and  under  14  yean;  3*5  to  14  and 
under  15  years ;  8*8  to  15  years  and  under  21 ;  0*9  to  21  years  and  upwards ;  and  4*3  for  life. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


407 


398  between  twelve  and  fonrteen,  and  209  less  than  twelve ;  so  that,  out  of  every  100  boys 
sent  to  this  prison,  it  would  appear  that  no  less  than  13^  are  mere  children.  The  detaiU 
are  given  as  under : — 


TABLB  SHOWING  TR«  AGB8  OP  THE  B0T-P&IB0NBB8  CONFINED  IN  THE  WBSTMINSTBB  HOUSE  07  COEBECnON, 
DUBIXG  THE  TEA.BS  ENDING  MICHAELMAS,  1851 — 55,  AS  WELL  AS  TEE  AYEliAGE  NUHBBB  POB  ALL 
ENGIiAirD  AND  WALES. 


Summarily  ooiiTietad. 

OouTioted  at 
Sesaioiu. 

Total 

1 

Under  13  years 
of  age. 

12  and  on^er 
14. 

14  and  under 
17. 

Total. 

1851  .... 

1852  .... 

1853  .... 

1854  .... 

1855  .... 

184 
168 
204 
268 
222 

391 
424 
314 
414 
446 

906 
941 
930 
973 
978 

1,481 
1,533 
1,448 
1,655 
1,646 

291 
308 
235 
227 
263 

1,772 
1,841 
1,683 
1,882 
1,909 

Total    .    . 
Annual  mean .    . 
Per  centage    .     . 

1,046 

1,989 

4,728 

7,763 

1,324 

9,087 

209 

398                   945 

1,552 

265 

1,817 

13-5 

25-6                  60-9 

854 

14-6 

100 

Annual  mean  oi\ 
all  Kngland  and 
Wales  for  1841- 

« J 

Per  eentage    .     . 

856 

1,697 

4,926 

7,479 

2,560 

10,039 

11-4 

22-7 

63-9 

74-5 

25-5 

1000 

1 

Here  we  perceive  that  there  are  10  per  cent,  more  boys  committed  to  prison  by  the 
Middlesex  magistrates  than  by  those  of  the  country  genersJly ;  and  of  those  so  committed, 
the  proportion  of  young  offenders,  under  14  years,  is  considerably  beyond  that  of  all 
England  and  Wales. 

Kow,  it  is  a  principle  of  justice  that  all  persons  who  are  not  of  sane  mind  are  legally 
irresponsible  for  their  acts ;  and,  surely,  if  the  law  itself  allow  that  none  are  fit  to  be  trusted 
with  the  care  of  property,  or  the  exercise  of  any  political  privilege,  until  they  are  21 
years  of  age — all  below  that  term  being  legal  "infants" — ^and  if  religion  itself  assert  that 
the  young  are  incapable  of  sin  until  they  have  reached  the  years  of  discretion,  it  can  be 
neither  just  nor  righteous  to  condemn,  as  felons,  little  things  that  are  as  unable  to  appre- 
ciate the  principle  of  the  rights  of  property,  as  they  are  to  comprehend  the  Divine  Nature 
itself. 

The  time  is  assuredly  not  far  distant  when  our  treatment  of  what  are  termed  juvenile 
offenders,  will  be  ranked  in  the  same  barb£Lrous  category  with  the  maimer  in  which  we 
formerly  dealt  with  the  insane  and  idiotic.  If  any  doubt  the  truth  of  such  a  statement,  let 
them  pay  a  visit  to  Tothill  Fields  prison,  and  see  there  young  creatures,  whose  years  even  a 
savage  could  reckon  up,  with  half-military  officers  to  watch  over  them,  and  immured  in  a 
building  whose  walls  are  as  thick  as  those  of  a  fortress,  and  the  gates  as  soHd  as  the  door  to 
an  iron  safe. 

If  it  were  not  for  the  pathos  of  the  place,  we  really  believe  this  boys'  prison  would  rank 
as  the  great  laughing-stock  of  the  age ;  for  here  one  finds  all  the  pompous  paraphernalia  of 
Visiting  Justices,  and  Governors,  and  Warders,  with  bimches  of  keys  dangling  from  thick 
chains,  and  strings  of  cutlasses  hanging  over  the  mantelpiece  of  the  entrance-office— and  all 


408  Tffla  GBEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

to  take  oare  of  the  little  desperate  maleCactorSy  not  one  of  whom  has  cut  his  "  wisdom  teeth ;" 
whilst  many  are  so  yoimg  that  they  seem  better  fitted  to  be  conveyed  to  the  place  in  a  per- 
ambulator, than  in  the  lumbering  and  formidable  prison  yan. 

Still;  the  consequences  of  our  wicked  treatment  of  these  poor  children  are  too  serious  for 
jesting.  Suppose  you  or  I,  reader,  had  been  consigned  to  such  a  place  in.  our  Bchool-b<^ 
days,  for  those  acts  of  thoughtlessness  which  none  but  fsmatics  would  think  of  regarding 
as  orme.  Sappose  we  had  had  to  spend  fourteen  days  at  picking  oakum,  in  a  priMm,  for 
every  runaway  knock  we  had  given,  or  every  stone  we  had  thrown,  or  even  for  every  act  of 
petty  dishonesty  we  had  committed — ^what  think  you  would  have  been  the  effect  of  such 
treatment  on  our  after-lives  ?  Had  we  been  herded  with  young  thieves  in  our  youth,  is  it 
likely  we  should  ever  have  grown  to  be  gentlemen  ?  Had  the  prison  been  stripped  of  its 
terror  and  its  shame  in  our  childhood,  do  you  think  we  should  have  lived  to  dread  entering 
it  after  we  arrived  at  man's  estate  ? 

Puritans  should  remember,  moreover,  that  theft  is  a  na^at  propensity  of  the  hmnan 
constitution,  and  honesty  an  artificial  and  educated  sentiment.  We  do  not  come  into  the 
world  with  an  instinctive  sense  of  the  rights  of  property  implanted  in  our  bosom,  to  teach 
us  to  respect  the  possessions  of  others,  but  rather  with  an  innate  desire  to  appropriate  what- 
ever we  may  fancy.  It  is  only  by  hng  training  and  schooling  that  we  are  made  to  see  it  is  bnt 
just,  that  every  one  should  enjoy  that  which  he  himself  creates  or  earns,  and  it  ia  this 
develcped  idea  of  justice  that  serves,  in  after  years,  to  keep  our  hands  from  picking  and 
stealing.  Oh  our  return  from  Tothill  Fields,  we  consulted  with  some  of  our  Mends  as  to 
the  various  peccadilloes  of  their  youth,  and  though  each  we  asked  had  grown  to  be  a  man 
of  some  little  mark  in  the  world,  both  for  intellect  and  honour,  they,  one  and  all,  confessed 
to  having  committed  in  their  younger  days  many  of  the  very  ''  crimes*'  for  whioh  Oie  boys  at 
Tothill  Fields  were  incarcerated.  For  ourselves,  we  will  frankly  confess  that  at  West- 
minster School,  where  we  passed  some  seven  years  of  our  boyhood,  such  acts  were  daily 
perpetrated;  and  yet  if  the  scholars  had  been  sent  to  the  House  of  Correction,  instead  of 
Cambridge  or  Oxford,  to  complete  their  education,  the  country  would  now  have  seen  many 
of  our  playmates  working  among  the  convicts  in  the  dock-yards,  rather  than  lending  dignity 
to  the  senate  or  honour  to  the  bench. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  to  TothiU  Fields,  two  incidents  occurred  which  may  serve  to 
give  the  reader  some  slight  notion  as  to  the  evils  of  such  places  as  the  'Westminater  House 
of  Correction.  Standing  within  the  prison  gateway  was  a  man  whose  heavy  boots  were 
yellow  with  dry  day,  and  whose  plush  waistcoat  gave  signs  of  his  being  either  some 
''  navvy "  or  brickmaker.  The  man  touched  his  ftir-cap  as  we  passed,  and  hoped  we 
would  help  him  with  a  trifle  to  carry  him  and  his  boy  (who  waa  about  to  be  liberated) 
towards  Enfleld.  The  child  was  eight  years  old,  we  learnt ;  his  offence  had  been  stealing 
some  half-dozen  plums  from  an  orchard — ^his  sentence  fourteen  days'  imprisonment  and  a 
flogging ! 

On  another  occasion,  we  requested  permission  of  the  Chairman  of  the  Yidting  Justices  to 
be  allowed  to  have  a  sketch  made  of  the  serving  of  the  breakfast  in  the  lai^  room  of  the 
boys'  prison.  The  answer  was,  that  the  magistrates  thought  it  inexpedient  to  allow  us  to  do 
so,  for  that  in  the  other  engravings  we  had  already  published,  the  prison  appeared  by  fiff  too 
comfortable  to  please  their  minds,  and  that  if  we  could  select  any  object  of  a  iderreni 
character  we  should  be  at  liberty  to  engrave  that. 

The  latter  anecdote  affords  a  striking  instance  of  the  defects  of  the  present  system, 
especially  when  coupled  with  the  former,  for  the  two  are  as  intimately  conjoined  as  cause 
and  effect.  In  the  one  we  see  an  over-disposition  to  make  children,  of  almost  tender  years, 
acquainted  with  the  economy  of  a  prison,  and  that  even  for  faults  of  a  comparatively  trivial 
character— or  faults,  at  least,  that  need  a  teacher  rather  than  a  jaLLer  to  correct;  whoneas,  in 
the  other  instance,  we  And  the  very  magistrates  themselves  afraid  of  making  known  the 


HOUSE  OF  COHBEOTION,  TOTHELL  FIELDS. 


409 


latemal  regulations  of  the  jail  over  wbich  they  preside.  That  there  is  nothing  especially 
terrible  in  the  arrangements  at  TothiU  Fields  surely  is  no  fault  of  ours ;  and  yet,  l&ough 
the  place' is  almost  a  paradise  in  comparison  with  the  hovels  to  which  the  poor  little  inmates 
haye  been  generally  accustomed^  and  the  food  positiye  luxury  to  their  ordinary  fare  when 
at  liberty,  still  these  same  justices  continue  to  consign  little  creatures  to  the  prison,  and  that 
often  for  offences  which  they  know  their  own  children  commit  day  after  day. 

Our  prisons  (and  more  especially  the  correctional  ones)  are  getting  to  be  regarded  as 
refoges  by  a  large  proportion  of  our  outcasts.  We  have  before  shown  that  at  Coldbath 
Fields  the  proportion  r&oommMed  is  no  less  than  33  per  cent,  of  the  whole  number  of 
piisoneiB.  At  Tothill  Fields,  however,  the  ratio  is  even  higher,  as  wiU  be  seen  by  the 
following:— 


TABLB  SHOWING  THB  NTTHBBB  OF  B0T-FB1B0NBB8  WHO  HAVE  BBBN  PBEVTOTTSLT  OOlOCriTBD  TO  THE 
WJHUCUHBTBIi  KOUBB  OV  OOBBBCTION  DUBmO  THB  YBABS  JSHDTSQ  1CI0HA.BLMAB,  1851-55. 


Tean,fto. 

Frerioosly  Gommitted. 

Total  No. 
of  com. 
mittala. 

Onoe. 

Twice. 

128 
184 
183 
154 
208 

Thrioe. 

Poor  times 
and  more. 

Total  Ko. 
recom* 
mitted. 

1851  .... 

1852  .... 

1853  .... 

1854  .... 

1855  .... 

Total.    .     .    . 
Annnalmean  . 
Percentage     • 

864 
361 
330 
316 
342 

54 
80 
97 
97 
82 

152 
257 
253 
341 
266 

698 
882 
863 
908 
898 

1,772 
1,841 
1,683 
1,882 
1,909 

1,713 

857 

410 

1,269 

4,249 

9,087 

342 

171 

82 

254 

849 

1,817 

18*8 

9*4 

4-5 

140 

46-7 

100- 

Here,  then,  we  find,  acoording  to  the  returns  of  the  last  fire  years,  that  not  one-third, 
as  at  Coldbath  Fields,  nor  one-fourth,  as  is  the  average  for  all  the  prisons  of  England  and 
Wales,  but  v^  nearly  ane-halfof  the  hoys  at  TothtU  Fields  are  recommitted  each  year,  so  that 
the  jaQ  there,  instead  of  being  a  place  of  terror  and  aversion  to  the  young  criminals,  is  really 
made  an  asylum  and  a  home  by  many  of  them.  ISTo  wonder,  then,  that  the  magistrates 
wished  us  to  find 'out  and  depict  some  ''deterrent''  about  the  place.  Justices,  however, 
have  still  to  learn  the  great  penal  lesson,  viz.,  to  keep  a  person  out  of  prison  as  long  as 
possible — ^to  use  the  jail  as  the  very  last  resource  of  all,  and  to  understand  that  if  it  were 
made  a  thousand  times  as  terrible  as  it  is,  it  would  be  even  then  far  less  awftil  in  reality 
'&an  in  imagination.  The  rule  with  the  Middlesex  magistrates,  though,  appears  to  be  the 
very  reverse,  viz.,  to  thrust  a  lad  into  prison  on  the  most  trifling  occasion,  and  to  fami- 
liarize him,  even  in  his  childhood,  with  scenes  that  he  should  be  made  acquainted  with  the 
very  last  of  all  in  his  manhood.  That  government  is  the  best,  says  the  English  axiom, 
which  governs  the  least— consistently  with  order  and  decency ;  and  so  we  say  again,  that 
penal  discipline  is  the  most  eficacious  which  punishes  as  little  as  possible— consbtently 
with  justice  and  propriety. 

The  subjoined  table  shows  the  proportion  of  recommittals  throughout  England  and 
Wales,  and  it  will  be  seen  that  the  average  ratio  of  prisoners  recommitted  barely  exceeds 
25  per  cent.,  whereas  it  has  been  before  shown  that  the  proportion  at  Tothill  Fields  amounts 
very  nearly  to  50  per  cent. 

At  Tothill  Fields,  it  will  be  observed,  the  proportion  of  prisoners  once  recommitted  to 
that  prison  is  upwards  of  7  per  cent,  in  excess  of  that  for  the  country  generally;  whilst  of 


410 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


those  who  are  fow  times  and  more  recommitfed,  there  is  the  same  excessire  projxntioii 
likewise. 


TABLB  SHOWING  THE  TOTAL  MUMBEB  OF  PBIdONEBS,  IK  THE  PRISONS  OP  ENGLAND  AND  IT  ALBS,  WHO  HATE 
BEEN  A5CBBTAINED  TO  HATE  BBBNT  BECOMMTTTED,  AS  WRLL  AS  THE  PROPORTIONS  PEE  CBNT.  OP  EACH 
CLASS  OP  RBCOMMITTALB  TO  THE  GROSS  PRISON  POPtTLATlON,  FOR  BACK  TBAR  FROM  1841  TO  1868, 
BOTH   INCLUSITE. 


Ybabs. 


1841. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  oent.  .     .     . 

1842. 
Number  of  prisoners  . 
Proportion  per  cent.  .     .     . 

1843. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.   .     .    . 

1844. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.  .    .     . 

1845. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.   .    .    . 

1846. 
Number  of  prisoners  .    .    . 
Proportion  per  cent.   .     .    . 

1847. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.  .     .     . 

1848. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .    . 
Proportion  per  cent.  .     .     . 

1849. 
Number  of  prisoners  .    .     . 
Proportion  per  oent  .     .    . 

1850. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .    . 
Proportion  per  eent.  .    .     . 

1851. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.   . 

1852. 
Number  of  prisoners  .    .     . 
Proportion  per  cent.   .     .    . 

1853. 
Number  of  prisoners  .     .     . 
Proportion  per  cent  .     .    . 

Annual  mean  number  of  ] 

prisoners  .    .    .     .    j 

Proportion  per  cent.    .     . 

Proportion  per  cent.  at\ 
TotbUl  Fields  .    .     / 


Once  recom< 
mitted. 


Twice  recom- 
mitted. 


15,356 
12*5 


16,792 
121 


16,367 
117 


15,781 
11-5 


14,324 
11-3 


13,585 
10-9 


14,417 
10-9 


16,769 
HI 


1,857 
11*6 


16,463 
11*6 


16.827 
U-4 


16,427 
11-0 


14,421 
10-9 


16,744 
11-4 


6,398 
5-0 


6,826 
4-9 


7,064 
60 


6,849 
60 


6,496 
6-1 


6,245 
6-0 


6,419 
4-9 


7,204 
4-8 


7,792 
4-9 


7,319 
5-1 


7,226 
60 


6,596 
47 


6,695 
61 


6.860 
60 


rhricerrcom- 
mitted. 


4,608 
3-0 


3,491 
2-5 


3,541 
2'6 


3,661 
27 


3,729 
2-9 


3,568 
2-9 


3,347 
2-5 


3,749 
2-5 


8,945 
2*6 


4,003 
2-8 


Pour  times  or 

more  reoom* 

mitted. 


6,565 
6-1 


6,763 
4*8 


7,411 
6-3 


8,440 
6-2 


8,564 
6-8 


9,060 
7*3 


8,742 
6-6 


9,513 
6*3 


9,932 
6-3 


9,639 
6-8 


lR-8 


9-4 


3,793 
2-5 

8,924 
CO 

3,620 
2-6 

8,953 
6-4 

3,636 
27 

8,886 
67 

3,732 

8,668 

27 

6-2 

4-5 

14-0 

Total  of 
entnmUfnIe, 


32,827 
25-6 


33,862 
24-3 


34,388 
24-5 


34,781 
26-4 


33,113 
26-1 


1 

Total  of  eii. 
miiuU  poiioU-l 
tiou.       I 


I 


128,190 
1000 


130,388 

ioo-0 


1M0,218 
100-0 


186,658 
100-0 


126.794 
100-0    I 


32,458 
26-1 

124.462 
100-0 

32,925 
24-9 

131,191 
100-0 

37,225 
247 

160,611 

ioo-o« 

39,826 
26*3 

167,273 
100-0 

87,424 

20-3 

142,094 

100-U 

36,820 
24  9 

147,726 
lUOtI 

84,596 
247 

139.6S8 
100H> 

33,566 
25-4 

132,0G9 
100-0 

34,904 

188,250 

25-3 

lOOi) 

467 

100  0 

7} 

I 

J9 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTION,  TOTFTT.L  FIELDS.  411 

Bnt  the  reader  may  desire  £Etcts  rather  than  BtrictureB  upon  such  matters. 

Let  US  deal,  then,  first  with  the  class  of  Misdemeanants.  WeU,  as  we  said,  these  are 
clad  in  blue,  and  seated  on  one  of  the  lower  forms  in  the  oakum-room.  We  questioned  the 
boys  severally  as  to  the  offences  for  which  they  were  imprisoned,  and  subjoin  a  list  of 
the  answers,  taken  down  in  the  presence  of  the  chief  warder. 

"What  are  you  here  for,  boy?"  said  we. 

"Heaving  a  highster-shell  through  a  street-lamp,  please,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

"He's  been  in  here  before  three  times,"  said  the  warder ;  "  and  very  probably  committed 
the  offence  merely  to  get  another  month's  shelter  in  the  place." 

"And  you?"  we  asked,  passing  on  to  another. 

"  A  woman  said  I  hit  her  babby." 

"And  you?" 

"Heaving  day."  This  one  had  been  fourteen  times  in  the  same  prison — "  Mostly  for 
cadging,  sir,"  interrupted  the  urchin ;  "  and  only  twice  of  them  times  for  prigging."  "  He's 
a  young  crossing-sweeper,"  said  the  warder,  "  and  is  generally  to  be  seen  about  the  West 
End  when  he's  out." 

"  Heaving  stones,"  exclaimed  another,  as  we  moved  towards  him. 

"  Threatening  to  stab  another  boy,  sir."     '*  Four  times  in  prison  before,"  the  officer  added. 

"  Stealing  a  bell  in  a  garden,  please,  sir." 

"Heaving  stones,  sir." 

"  Heaving  stones."    In  four  times  before. 

"Heaving  stones.' 

"  Heaving  stones.' 

Here,  then,  out  of  ten  cases,  there  was  only  one  of  a  malicious  and  two  of  a  criminal 
character ;  whilst  the  majority  were  imprisoned  for  such  offences  as  all  boys  commit,  and 
for  which  imprisonment  among  thieves  is  surely  the  worst  possible  remedy. 

At  a  later  part  of  the  day  we  accompanied  the  warder  to  the  airing-yard,  to  see  the  boys 
exercisuig.  This  was  done  much  after  the  fashion  of  other  prisons,  the  lads  circling  round 
and  round,  and  each  walking  some  six  or  seven  feet  apart  from  those  next  him.  There 
were  about  forty  boys  altogether  in  the  yard.  ''  They  exercise,"  said  the  warder,  "  in  detach- 
ments, for  about  an  hour  each ;  we  keep  them  walking  briskly,  and  in  cold  mornings  we 
make  them  move  along  in  double  quick  time." 

Ab  the  little  troop  paced  over  the  flag-stones,  their  heavy  prison  boots  sounded  very 
differently  from  what  their  naked  feet  are  wont  to  do  when  outside  the  prison  gates ;  and  we 
could  tell,  by  their  shuffling  noise  and  limping  gait,  how  little  used  many  of  them  had  been 
to  such  a  luxury  as  shoe  leather.  Then  each  boy  had  a  small  red  cotton  pocket-handkerchief 
tied  to  the  button-hole  of  his  jacket  (for  no  pockets  are  allowed  in  the  prison  garb),  and  we 
oould  not  help  wondering  how  many  of  the  forty  young  "  offenders"  there,  had  ever  before 
known  the  use  of  such  an  article. 

While  the  lads  ke^t  on  filing  past  us,  the  chief  warder,  at  our  request,  called  over  the 
number  of  times  that  those  who  had  been  recommitted  had  been  previously  in  prison. 
This  lie  did  merely  by  quoting  to  us  the  red  figures  stitched  to  the  arm  of  the  "known  " 
delinqtients. 

The  following  cyphers  indicate  the  number  of  recommittals  among  the  band : — 4,  3,  2, 
4,  2,  10,  8,  3,  10,  7,  6,  3,  4,  3,  4,  4,  2,  4,  6,  4,  3,  9,  2,  4,  2.  Thus  we  see  that,  out  of  the 
40  exercising  in  the  y9xA,  there  were  no  less  than  26  who  had  paid  many  previous  visits  to 
the  prison. 

After  this,  one  of  the  lads,  who  had  been  ten  times  recommitted,  was  called  from  out 
of  Oie  ranks,  and  questioned  as  to  his  age  and  antecedents. 

'*  How  old  are  you,  boy  ?'' 
80» 


412  THE  GKEAT  WOEID  OF  LONDON. 

"  Thirteen  years,  please,  sir." 

"  What  are  you  in  for  ?" 

'<  Coat  and  nmhereller,  sir.  This  makes  seven  times  here  and  three  times  at  Coldbath 
Pields,  please,  sir." 

"  How  long  have  yon  got  now  ?" 

''  Three  calendar  months.  This  makes  fonr  times,  please,  sir,  that  I've  had  three  calendar 
months,  and  I've  had  two  two-monthses  as  well— one  of  the  two  monthses  here,  and  one  at 
Ooldhath  Fields;  and  IVe  done  one  six  weeks,  and  one  two  days  besides,  sir.  It's 
mostly  been  for  prigging,"  added  the  young  nrchin. 

"  What  did  you  take  ?" 

''  I  took  a  watch  and  chain  once,  sir,  and  a  pair  of  goold  bracelets  another  time.  I  did 
a  till  twice,  and  this  time  it's  for  the  coat  and  umbereller,  as  I  told  you  on  afore.  The 
two  days  I  had  was  for  a  bottie  of  pickles,  but  that  there  was  three  or  four  year  ago." 

'*  Oh,  father's  in  a  consumptive  hospital  down  in  the  country,"  he  went  on,  in  answer 
to  our  queries.    *'  Mother's  at  home,  and  she  lives  in  S Street,  in  tiie  Gray's  Inn  Boad." 

'^  Why,  I  began  thieving  about  four  year  ago,  please,  sir,"  he  said,  in  answer  to  ns. 
"  I  went  out  with  a  butcher-boy.    He's  got  four  year  penal  servitude  now." 

"Did  I  ever  go  out  to  work?  Oh,  yes,  sir.  I  was  at  work  at  a  bmsh-maker's  for 
about  five  months,  and  I've  worked  at  Mr.  Cubitt's  in  the  dray's  Inn  Boad.  I  go  out 
with  one  boy  when  I  go  pri£^;ing.  I  went  into  the  shop  with  a  bit  of  a  old  seal  to  sell, 
when  I  took  the  watch ;  and  I  tried  on  the  same  dodge  when  I  took  tiie  pair  of  goold 
bracelets.  Mother  mends  china  and  glass,  please,  sir.  I  don't  mean  to  go  out  pngg:ing 
no  more.    Not  if  I  can  get  any  work,  I  won't." 

This  boy  was  a  sharp-featured  cunning-looking  young  vagabond,  with  a  pucker  at  the 
comers  of  his  mouth,  that  showed  (though  his  eyes  were  cast  down  in  affected  penitence) 
that  he  was  ready  to  break  into  laughter  at  the  least  breach  of  gravity.  Indeed,  he  needed 
but  the  man's  body-coat  with  the  tails  dragging  on  the  ground,  and  tiie  trousers  tied  up 
with  string  instead  of  braces,  and  bare  muddy  feet,  to  mark  him  as  one  of  the  confirmed 
young  London  thieves.  Whether  this  was  the  result  of  innate  vice,  or  owing  to  the  want 
of  proper  paternal  care  (his  father,  be  it  remembered,  was  in  a  consumption  hospital, 
whilst  his  mother  went  out  mending  china),  we  leave  it  for  others  to  say.  Assuredly,  had 
he  been  sent  to  a  school  for  some  few  years,  instead  of  to  a  prison  for  two  days,  when  he 
stole  the  bottle  of  pickles,  there  might  have  been  some  chance  of  reclaiming  him ;  but  now  the 
task  seemed  almost  hopeless.  In  a  few  years  more  he  will,  probably,  be  at  one  of  the  con- 
vict prisons,  swelling  the  numbers  of  the  old  experienced  offenders. 

But  do  not  let  us  judge  by  isolated  instances. 

Here  is  the  case  of  another  of  the  boys,  whose  red  mark  on  the  sleeve  of  his  jacket 
showed  that  he,  too,  had  been  ten  times  in  prison  before. 

*^  Sixteen  years  of  age,  please,  sir,"  said  the  lad,  ''  and  in  for  stealing  a  coat  Pre 
been  at  prigging  about  four  year.  I  had  one  calendar  month  here  for  a  pair  of  boots. 
Then  I  stole  a  box  of  silver  pencU-cases  from  a  jeweller's  shop.  I  bought  an  old  aypenny 
ring,  and  broke  it  up,  and  while  the  gennelman  was  looking  at  it  to  see  whether  it  was  goold 
or  not,  I  slipped  the  pencil-cases  under  my  coat.  I  got  four  calendar  months  for  that  there, 
sir.  Then  I  was  took  for  two  bundles  of  cigars,  and  had  one  month  here.  After  that  I 
was  took  for  some  meerschaum  pipes,  and  had  another  month.  I  was  took  fi>r  a  coat 
besides,  and  got  three  calendar  months  in  Coldbath  Fields.  I  guv  my  age  seventeen  that 
time,  so  as  to  get  sent.there.    I  guv  it  seventeen  this  time,  too,  but  they  was  fly  to  it" 

"  Why  would  you  rather  go  to  Coldbath  Fields  ?"  we  inquired. 

''  Oh,  I'd  choose  anything  for  a  change,  sir,"  was  the  characteristic  and  candid  reply. 

**  Then  I  was  sent  to  HoUoway  for  tossing,"  went  on  the  boy,  '<  and  had  fourteea  days 
of  it  there.     I  don't  know  what  I  was  took  for  the  other  time.    Fatiier^s  a  hinriTingi 


tl 


HOUSE  OF  COEREOTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  413 

and  I  aint  got  no  mother,  please,  sir.  I've  been  to  work  with  father  when  IVe  come 
out  from  my  'prisonments,  but  IVe  soon  cut  it  and  gone  thieying  again.  I've  been 
in  a  national  school  and  a  philanthropic  over  by  Bedlam — ^it's  called  the  House  of  Occu- 
pation." 

We  next  inquired  as  to  what  he  intended  to  do  when  he  regained  his  liberty  once 
more. 

''  Do  ?"  he  answered,  without  the  least  fear,  though  the  warder  stood  at  his  side, ''  why, 
when  I  gets  out  here  I  shall  go  thieving  again." 

"  But  why  ?"  we  asked. 

<'  Why  I  shall  go  thieving,  cos  I  aint  got  no  other  way  of  gettin'  a  living." 
But  won't  your  father  keep  you  ?"  said  we. 

Oh !  father,"  echoed  the  boy  in  a  tone  of  disrespect ;  "he'll  think  he's  got  enough  to  do 
to  keep  his-self." 

''  Would  he  turn  you  from  his  door  then?"  was  our  next  question. 

"  Oh  no,  he  wouldn't  turn  me  out.  He'd  give  me  a  lodging  and  '  vittles,'  and  if  I  got  any 
work  he'd  do  all  he  could  to  help  me ;  but,  you  see,  I  don't  like  work,  and  I  don't  like  being 
at  home  neither.  I  seem  to  like  thieving.  Still  if  I  got  work  this  time,  though  I  mightn't 
like  it  at  first,  I'd  try  to  keep  to  it." 

This  boy,  unlike  the  other,  had  a  frank  and  open  countenance,  and  bore  none  of  the 
signs  of  London  roguery  impressed  upon  his  features.  Nevertheless,  our  experience  among 
this  peculiar  class  of  characters  has  taught  us  to  place  little  or  no  reliance  upon  either 
physiognomical  or  phrenological  traits.  Indeed  we  have  often  speculated  in  company  with 
the  warders  on  such  matters,  and  generally  found  that  the  prisoners  whom  we  picked  out  as 
the  better  class  of  characters  were  far  from  being  so  in  the  estimation  of  their  jailers.  There 
is  a  natural  disposition  to  believe  that  physical  and  moral  beauty  are  some  way  connected — 
though  really  they  are  conjoined  only  in  the  association  of  ideas,  and  there  is  no  rational 
cause  why  the  best-looking  should  not  be  ill-natured,  and  even  the  deformed  possessed  of 
the  highest  virtue.  It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  dwarves  generally  are  not  remarkable 
for  ihsai  kindness  of  heart,  and  that  handsome  people,  on  the  other  hand,  are  likely  to  grow 
vicious  from  their  personal  vanity  and  craving  for  admiration. 

Bui  crime,  we  repeat,  is  an  ^ect  with  which  the  shape  of  the  head  and  t^e  form  of  the 
featoree  appear  (so  far  as  our  observation  goes)  to  have  no  connection  whatever — ^indeed  it 
seems  to  us,  in  the  majority  of  instances,  to  be  the  accident  of  parentage  and  organization. 
Granted  that  a  being  of  intense  energy  of  character  may  be  able  to  overcome  the  taint  of 
birtii  in .  a  prison  nursery,  and  that  indomitable  will  may  rise  superior  even  to  convict 
extraction.  But  with  the  general  run  of  human  beings  the  rule  would  seem  to  be,  that  a 
felon  fietther  or  mother  generally  begets  a  felon  child,  and  that  orphanage,  either  actual  or 
yirtual,  is  usually  attended  with  the  same  result  among  the  very  poor — ^being  bereft  of 
parents  seeming  to  be  equivalent  in  its  moral  effects  to  being  bom  of  bad  or  too  indulgent 
ones.  **  Of  the  children,"  says  Mr.  Antrobus,  in  the  Special  Eeport  of  the  Visiting  Justices, 
<<  a  large  proportion  have  either  nominal  stepfathers  or  stepmothers,  fathers  or  mothers, 
brothers  or  sisters,  who  have  become  criminal— ^parents  who  are  constantly  in  a  state  of 
intoxication,  or  living  surrounded  by  destitution  and  misery ;  whilst  very  many  are  without 
eren  a  relation  or  a  friend."  Again,  we  say  the  great  mass  of  crime  in  this  country  is 
committed  by  those  who  have  been  bred  and  bom  to  the  business,  and  who  make  a  regular 
trade  of  it — ^living  as  systematically  by  robbery  or  cheating  as  others  do  by  conmierce  or  the 
exercise  of  intellectual  or  manual  labour;  and  the  records  of  the  country  show,  when 
duly  analysed  and  systematised,  that  in  every  10,000  of  our  population  there  are  15 
criminals  annually  accused  of  some  offence  or  other,  whilst  of  these  15  not  less  than  12^  are 
charged  with  acts  that  those  only  could  perform  who  had  been  regularly  reared  and  educated 
to  Oie  "  profession." 


414  THE  QEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Here,  for  example,  is  a  short  conversation  that  we  entered  into  with  another  lad,  while 
visiting  this  prison.  The  boy  had  a  badge  on  his  arm,  that  showed  he  hiad  been  as  many  as 
fourteen  times  in  prison,  though  he  was  certainly  not  that  number  of  years  old. 

*'  Where  do  you  live,  lad?*'  said  we  to  him. 

*'  No.  21,  S Street,  Gray's  Inn  Lane,"  returned  the  youngster,  as  he  looked  with 

a  half-impudent  leer  up  into  our  face. 

'*  But  that's  where  your  father  and  mother  live,  isn't  it?"  said  the  warder. 

*' Yes,  father  lives  in  S Street,  and  I  lives  in  a  lodging-house,  in  Charles  Street, 

Drury  Lane,"  was  the  urchin's  answer. 

"  Why  don't  you  live  with  your  father  and  mother  ?" 

*'  Cos  father  won't  keep  me  unless  I'm  at  work." 

"  But  won't  he  let  you  stay  with  him  till  you  get  work  ?" 

''  No,  that  he  won't — not  even  when  I  go  out  here ;  and  that's  why  I  go  to  the  lodging- 
house." 

"  Do  you  go  thieving  from  that  place  ?"  we  asked. 

''  Yes;  I  goes  out  thieving  with  other  boys,"  was  the  unabashed  reply  of  the  yoimg 
vagabond.  ''Been  fourteen  times  in  prison,"  he  added,  smiling,  as  if  proud  of  the  Act, 
when  he  saw  us  looking  at  the  figures  on  his  arm,  in  order  to  assure  ourselves  of  tiie  troth  of 
his  numerous  recommitments.  ''  I  have  had  three  calender  months  four  times,"  he  tan  on, 
**  and  one  fourteen  days,  and  I  don't  know  how  many  two  monthses  and  monthses  besides." 

''  And  when  you  leave  this  prison,  you'll  go  out  with  the  other  boys  thieving  again,  I 
suppose  ?"  asked  we. 

"  No,  I  aint  a-going  this  time ;  for  I  means  to  hook  it,  and  go  to  sea." 

At  another  part  of  the  day  we  saw  some  eighteen  more  prisoners  exercising  in  one  of  the 
airing-yards,  and  again,  as  the  boys  filed  past  us,  we  copied  down  in  our  note-book  the  red 
figures  on  their  sleeves,  indicating  the  number  of  times  tiiey  had,  respectively,  been  leoom- 
mitted  to  prison. 

Here  is  the  result:— 10,  2,  4,  7,  7,  3,  6,  2,  14,  7,  12,  10,  2,  4. 

Who,  then,  can  doubt  that  our  prisons  are  really  becoming  refuges,  or  who  can  wonder  at 
the  fact,  when  the  late  Chairman  of  the  Visiting  Justices  tells  us  that  the  parents  of  numbers 
of  the  young  prisoners  live  ''  surrounded  by  destitution  and  misery,  and  very  many  without 
even  a  relation  or  a  Mend.  Under  these  circumstances,"  add  the  Justices  themselves^  in 
their  last  Special  Eeport,  *'  it  cannot  be  a  matter  of  surprise  that  so  many  commit  offences 
which  consign  them  to  the  prison ;"  especially,  it  should  be  said,  when  the  prison  is  so  much 
more  comfortable  than  their  own  homes.  Now,  it  must  not  be  imagined,  from  the  latter 
remark,  tiiat  we  believe  our  jails  can  be  emptied  by  rendering  them  of  a  more  detenent 
character — the  experiment  has  been  tried  long  ago,  and  found  to  be  a  di^jacefol  failure.  It 
is  impossible,  in  the  present  age,  with  the  advanced  notions  of  society  as  to  its  duties  even  to 
the  criminal,  to  reduce  the  prison  food,  or  the  prison  clothing,  or  the  prison  accommodatioii,  to 
any  sterner  standard ;  for  tiie  diet  has  been  nicely  calculated,  and  pared  down  to  the  precise 
quantity  sufficient  to  support  life,  and  health,  and  strength,  on  the  most  economical  prin- 
ciples ;  the  clothing,  on  the  other  hand,  is  merely  such  as  is  required  to  retain  the  warmth 
of  the  body,  and  the  accommodation  that  only  which  is  necessary  for  the  prevmtion  of 
disease,  by  the  too  close  crowding  of  the  inmates ;  nor  can  we  ever  again  indulge  in  the 
thumb-screws,  or  other  barbarous  tortures,  by  which  our  forefathers  thought  to  goad  men  into 
fancied  rectitude.  All  such  things,  thank  God,  have  passed  away  for  ever,  and  those  who 
still  uphold  them  are  as  much  unfitted  for  the  age  in  which  they  live,  as  Zadkiel,  the 
astrologer,  or  the  ''table- turners,"  or  "spirit-rappers,"  and  the  like. 

There  is  but  one  way  to  empty  our  prisons,  and  that  is  by  paying  attention  to  the 
outcast  children  of  the  land.  So  long  as  the  State  forgets  its  paternal  duty,  just  so  kng 
must  it  expect  its  ofiapring  to  grow  up  vicious  and  dishonest;  and  it  is  simply  ftr  oar 


HOUSE  OF  COREECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  415 

wicked  n^lect  of  the  poor  desolate  and  destitate  little  creatures  about  us,  that  our  country 
swarms  with  what  are  termed  ''the  dangerous  classes/'  and  our  people,  tested  by  the  national 
records,  appear  to  be  more  than  serenfold  as  criminal  as  our  Catholic  neighbours  in  France 
and  Belgium.  For  it  is  plain  that  if  the  State  would  but  become  the  foster-father  of  the 
wretched  little  orphans  that  now  it  leaves  magistrates  to  thrust  into  jaU,  and  if  it  would  but 
train  them  to  habits  of  industry  and  rectitude,  instead  of  allowing  ^em  to  grow  up  utterly 
unskilled  in  any  form  of  honest  labour,  and,  moreover,  thoroughly  ignorant  of  all  rights  and 
duties,  as  well  as  being  not  only  insensible  to  the  dignities  and  virtues  of  life,  but  positively 
taught  to  believe  that  the  admirable  lies  in  all  that  is  base  and  hideous.* 

We  still  considered  it  necessary,  for  the  thorough  elucidation  of  our  subject  to  interro- 
gate each  of  the  prisoners  in  the  large  work-room  as  to  their  age,  the  number  of  times  they 
had  been  in  prison,  and  the  ofFenoes  for  which  they  had  been  sentenced.  The  particulan 
of  our  investigation  are  here  subjoined : — 

1st  Prisoner,  14  years  of  f^,  10  times  in  prison,  for  picking  pockets. 

stealing  copper  nails. 


2nd 

99 

16 

>> 

4 

3rd 

99 

16 

99 

4 

4th 

99 

15 

» 

2 

5th 

99 

14 

>> 

16 

6th 

y> 

13 

>y 

2 

7th 

» 

15 

>> 

4 

8th 

» 

13 

» 

2 

9th 

» 

13 

99 

2 

10th 

>> 

14 

>> 

17 

11th 

99 

11 

>> 

5 

12th 

99 

13 

>> 

3 

13th 

99 

12 

>> 

3 

14th 

» 

14 

>» 

5 

15th 

9) 

14 

9t 

6 

99 


picking  pockets. 


area  sneaking, 
picking  pockets, 
stealing  lead. 

stealing  4^.  M.  out  of  a  tiU. 
„  stealing  lead. 

picking  pockets, 
stealing  silver  tea-kettle, 
picking  pockets. 


91 


ft 
99 


>>  »  99 


ft 
7t 


stealing  chickens, 
stealing  a  copper  boiler. 


*  We  are,  hoirever,  still  of  opinion,  that  a  great  change  for  the  better  might  be  made  in  onr  priflons, 
by  ordering  that  the  amount  of  food  BuppUed  should  be  made  to  depend  upon  the  amount  of  work  done. 
ThiMf  we  repeat,  would  serye,  not  only  to  make  the  role  of  life  within  a  prison  conform  to  that  without  the 
walla,  but  to  do  away  with  the  present  refuge  and  asylum  charaeter  of  our  jails,  for  surely  a  refuge  is  merelj  a 
place  that  people  fly  to  In  order  to  obtain  food,  clothing,  and  shelter,  without  trouble  or  labour  on  their 
pert ;  and  this  is  precisely  what  obtains  in  our  prisons  of  the  present  day.  To  do  away  with  this  anomaly, 
it  ia  neoeasary  to  make  the  proyidons  supplied  to  prisoners  purchasable  as  they  are  in  the  world,  by  different 
quantities  of  industry,  and  to  supply  gratuUcutfy  only  the  present  punishment  diet  of  bread  and  water. 
Such,  we  hold,  should  be  the  rule  in  every  jail  throughout  the  kingdom ;  but  most  especially  in  those 
isatitiitions  which  are  set  apart  for  the  reception  of  young  offenders.  The  most  dangerous  lesson  that  a 
boy-criminal  can  possibly  learn  is,  that  food,  shelter,  and  raiment  are  to  be  had  within  a  prison  for 
nothing.  Upon  such  a  nature,  more  particularly,  we  should  take  especial  pains  to  impress  the  high  truth, 
that  the  necessities  and  luxuries  of  life  are  procurable  only  by  industry ;  and  by  showing  him  how  he,  by 
hia  labour,  can  contribute  to  his  own  enjoyment,  teach  him  at  once  the  use  and  value  of  worV.  As  it  is, 
however,  the  first  lesson  he  learns  inside  a  prison  is,  that  industry  brings  no  rewards  and  that  labour  is  at 
once  a  punishment  and  a  disgrace.  To  put  an  end  to  this  absurd  penrersion  of  natural  laws,  all  that  is 
required  is  that  prisoners,  on  their  entry  into  a  jail  (after  conviction},  should  be  placed  in  a  punidmient  cell, 
on  punishment  diet,  and  made  to  tarn  such  creature  comforts  aa  the  present  regulations  allow,  by  different 
amounts  of  work  for  each  article — a  bed  being  purchasable  by  a  certain  quantity  of  labour,  and  a  cup  of 
ooooAy  or  a  dish  of  soup,  by  other  quantities,  according  as  the  authorities  might  appraise  them.  As  it  is, 
however,  the  natural  order  of  thmgs  is  precisely  reversed — ^the  food  and  bedding,  and  eren  better  kind  of 
cell,  are  given  to  each  prisoner  at  a  right,  and  he  is  put  to  labour  merely  as  an  arbitrary  punishment,  and 
that  amply  because  it  is  a  thing  to  which  he  has  an  inveterate  aversion ;  whilst  the  punishment  diet,  and 
tlie  pifmiahment  cell  are  resorted  to  merely  as  the  means  of  intimidating  him  into  conformity  to  the 
priflon  rules.  That  which  is  now  the  last  resource,  therefore,  should  be  made  ihBjtnt  expedient ;  and  if  this 
were  the  case,  the  refuge  character  of  our  prisons  would  no  longer  exist. 


416  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

16th  PriBoner,  10  years  of  age,  2  times  in  priflon,  for  stealing  4d. 

stealing  pigeons. 


17th    . 

» 

11 

ft 

10 

ft 

18th 

tt 

12 

tt 

3 

ft 

19th 

t» 

13 

ft 

5 

tt 

20th 

91 

13 

ft 

2 

tt 

21st 

>f 

12 

ft 

5 

ft 

22nd 

ft 

15 

tt 

5 

it 

23rd 

ff 

14 

ft 

4 

tt 

24th 

ff 

10 

tt 

1 

ft 

25th 

>» 

12 

tf 

1 

tf 

26th 

ft 

13 

tt 

3 

ft 

27th 

ft 

14 

tt 

2 

tf 

28th 

tt 

11 

tt 

6 

ft 

29th 

ft 

13 

t> 

3 

ft 

30th 

If 

13 

tt 

1 

ft 

3lBt 

tt 

14 

it 

3 

ft 

32nd 

ti 

5 

tt 

2 

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83rd 

ft 

13 

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1 

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34th 

99 

16 

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1 

tt 

35th 

» 

14 

tt 

6 

ft 

36th 

ft 

12 

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2 

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37th 

tt 

13 

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1 

ft 

38th 

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15 

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39th 

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3 

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41st 

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Jf 

12 

ji 

3 

11 

50th 

>.' 

13 

ft 

8     . 

ft 

51st 

JJ 

13 

'? 

»> 

^rf 

a 

o2Qd 

>y 

15 

)? 

1 

•> 

53rd 

}y 

12 

}y 

1 

it 

54th 

it 

13 

}f 

7 

ft 

55th 

tt 

18 

tt 

4 

tt 

56th 

tf 

16 

tt 

1 

tt 

57th 

tt 

16 

tt 

3 

tt 

58th 

tf 

14 

it 

4 

tt 

59th 

t> 

16 

ti 

10 

tt 

60th 

tt 

13 

tt 

3 

tt 

6lBt 

tt 

13 

tt 

1 

ft 

62nd 

ft 

14 

tt 

7 

tt 

63rd 

9t 

15 

tt 

2 

tt 

64th 

tf 

16 

tf 

2 

tt 

65th 

It 

12 

tt 

4 

tt 

stealing  a  coat 

stealing  lead. 

pioking  pockets. 

pawning  a  jacket. 

stealing  a  jacket. 

stealing  9«.  from  till. 

tpimUng  atop! 

stealing  lead. 

stealing  ten  bottles  of  wina. 

stealing  canvas. 

Bpinning  atcp! 

stealing  brass.  [tences. 

obtaining  money  under   false  pre« 

stealing  brass  and  lead. 

stealing  5«.  9d,  j&om  till. 

stealing  jewelry  and  pencil-cases. 

going  into  Kensington  Gardens  to 

stealing  a  guinea-pig.  [sleep.* 

picking  pockets. 

suspicion. 

stealing  silver  plate. 

picking  pockets. 

stealing  a  watch  and  timepiece. 

stealing  brass. 

stealing  meat. 

stealing  some  calico. 

stealing  carpet. 

picking  pockets. 


ft  ft 

tf  ft 


pulling  down  palings, 
stealing  meat, 
stealing  lead. 


>'         }f 

ft         }j 


stealing  gold  watch  and  chain, 
stealing  money  from  till, 
picking  pockets, 
stealing  beef, 
stealing  bacon, 
picking  pockets, 
stealing  ladies'  mantles, 
picking  pockets. 


ft  ft 


tt  ft 

steoHng  a  silk  gown, 
stealing  watch, 
stealing  bread. 
♦  Thia  boy  said  his  father  wuuld  not  keop  lum.    His  senUmco  for  the  above  JUinom  offence  was  om  owdUu 


BiairS-ESX  VIEW  of  the  HODSE  of  COfiKBCnON  FOR  TUB  CITT  OF  LONDON,  HOLLOWAY. 


OUTKS  OATE  AT  TUE  CItV  BOUSE  OF  COaRECTlOU,  IIOLLOWAV. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 
66tb  Prifloner,  13  y6drt  of  age,  6  times  in  prison,  for  housebreaking. 


417 


67th 

>> 

15 

>> 

4 

19 

picking  pockets. 

68tii 

9i 

11 

>> 

1 

19 

begging. 

69th 

tf 

13 

}i 

3 

» 

stealing  29.  6d. 

70th 

99 

11 

» 

1 

>> 

killing  a  dog. 

7l8t 

» 

16 

99 

1 

»> 

highway-robbery  of  watch. 

72nd 

» 

13 

» 

1 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

78rd 

99 

15 

>) 

1 

?> 

stealing  a  watch. 

74th 

n 

16 

99 

7 

» 

picking  pockets. 

75th 

>> 

14 

99 

6 

>> 

II                    19 

76th 

99 

13 

99 

3 

>> 

stealing  two  caps. 

77th 

7y 

14 

99 

2 

99 

highway-robbery  of  a  watch. 

78th 

>> 

14 

99 

2 

19 

stealing  coals. 

79th 

>> 

14 

99 

1 

19 

picking  pockets. 

80th 

>> 

10 

>> 

2 

» 

>i          >> 

8lBt 

>> 

10 

>> 

2 

>> 

stealing  brass. 

82nd 

99 

11 

99 

1 

19 

picking  pockets. 

83rd 

99 

15 

» 

2 

>> 

stealing  boots. 

84th 

>> 

16 

>> 

1 

» 

picking  pockets. 

85th 

99 

14 

99 

3 

>> 

99                    II 

86th 

.     >» 

12 

»» 

6 

>> 

99                    II 

87th 

99 

16 

99 

3 

>> 

stealing  a  coat. 

88th 

99 

15 

>> 

11 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

89th 

>> 

15 

99 

3 

>> 

99                   11 

90th 

>> 

16 

» 

1 

>> 

stealing  la.  fix)m  till. 

9l8t 

99 

13 

» 

2 

>> 

stealing  sack  of  white  rags. 

92nd 

99 

15 

99 

4 

>> 

stealing  candied  lemon-peel. 

93rd 

» 

16 

jy 

1 

>> 

stealing  lead. 

94t.h 

99 

10 

J> 

1 

» 

stealing  seven  razors. 

95th 

99 

15 

>> 

7 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

96th 

99 

14 

>» 

1 

>> 

stealing  a  coat. 

97th 

99 

14 

>> 

2 

>> 

stealing  lead. 

98th 

99 

15 

>> 

2 

J> 

91                II 

99th 

» 

15 

>> 

2 

>» 

stealing  9«.  6d.  from  employer. 

100th 

99 

16 

)> 

4 

>> 

stealing  4  pigeons. 

lOlst 

99 

16 

*> 

2 

»> 

stealing  lead. 

102nd 

>> 

14 

» 

7 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

103rd 

99 

16 

» 

5 

>> 

stealing  cigars. 

104th 

9t 

14 

>> 

2 

>> 

stealing  bread.* 

105th 

99 

15 

99 

5 

>> 

stealing  copper. 

106th 

99 

14 

»> 

5 

>> 

stealing  cigars  and  pipes. 

107th 

>> 

16 

>> 

1 

>> 

stealing  £2  168.  from  employer. 

108th 

>> 

16 

» 

9 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

109th 

99 

14 

>> 

4 

)> 

II          II 

110th 

99 

14 

>> 

2 

J> 

11          11 

111th 

» 

15 

>> 

1 

9) 

stealing  sack  of  oats  and  beans. 

112th 

99 

14 

» 

10 

II 

stealing  leaid. 

118th 

>> 

16 

>> 

4 

>> 

picking  pockets. 

114th 

>> 

16 

M 

1 

» 

11           II 

115th 

>> 

15 

» 

2 

I* 

suspicion. 

*  This,  tlie  boy  confessed,  was  not  from  want ;  he  intended  to  sell  it. 


418 


THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


116th  Prisoner j 

13  years  of  age. 

»  5  times 

in  prison, 

for  picking  pookets. 

117th 

ff 

13 

tf 

2 

99 

suspicion. 

118th 

9t 

16 

tf 

1 

>> 

stealing  £2  firom  employer. 

119th 

if 

16 

ft 

2 

ft 

stealing  four  silk  handkerchief. 

120th 

ft 

14 

ft 

2 

tf 

getting  aver  a  toaU  / 

12lBt 

l» 

16 

» 

2 

tt 

picking  pockets. 

122nd 

t> 

14 

ft 

1 

ft 

stealing  brass. 

123rd 

ft 

15 

tt 

8 

ft 

stealing  9«.  6d.  horn  a  till. 

124th 

tf 

16 

tf 

2 

tf 

taking  sweepings  of  a  barge  of  eoals. 

125th 

tt 

15 

tf 

9 

tt 

picking  pockets. 

126th 

tt 

16 

tf 

3 

» 

ft          » 

127th 

>> 

16 

tt 

4 

tt 

stealing  £2  Bs,  from  a  till. 

128th 

tt 

14 

tt 

9 

tt 

picking  pockets. 

129th 

tt 

16 

t* 

13 

ft 

stealing  lead. 

IdOth 

ft 

16 

tt 

1 

tt 

tt        ft 

ISlBt 

tt 

16 

tf 

1 

tf 

stealing  some  cotton  print 

132nd 

tf 

13 

It 

1 

tf 

stealing  3«.  £rom  employer. 

133rd 

If 

16 

ft 

4 

tf 

stealing  cigars. 

134th 

ft 

15 

tf 

2 

ft 

stealing  candied  lemon-peeL 

135th 

tf 

14 

tf 

3 

ft 

stealing  cigars. 

136th 

ft 

14 

ft 

5 

tf 

picking  pockets. 

137th 

tf 

14 

ft 

3 

ft 

tf           y» 

138th 

tf 

16 

99 

2 

*tf 

ft           tt 

139th 

ft 

15 

}» 

5 

»y 

tf           ft 

140th 

ft 

15 

tf 

7 

ft 

tf           ft 

14l8t 

ft 

14 

ff 

3 

ft 

9>                 )l 

142nd 

» 

16 

ft 

5 

ft 

ft           ft 

143rd 

ft 

16 

tf 

3 

tt 

tt           ft 

144th 

tf 

15 

ff 

5 

tf 

stealing  coat. 

145th 

tf 

12 

tt 

2 

tf 

stealing  brass. 

146  th 

It 

13 

tt 

1 

tf 

stealing  books. 

147th 

ft 

16 

ft 

1 

tt 

stealing  chair. 

148th 

tf 

14 

)l 

6 

tt 

picking  pockets 

149th 

ti 

17 

It 

1 

>> 

leaying  his  ship. 

150th 

tt 

16 

»> 

4 

tf 

stealing  from  a  till. 

151st 

tt 

16 

» 1 

2 

ft 

stealing  quarter  of  a  sheep. 

152nd 

tt 

15 

J> 

3 

rt 

picking  pockets. 

153rd 

Jt 

13 

.•J 

4 

i» 

tt        ft 

154th 

tt 

16 

'J 

3 

j> 

stealing  meat. 

155th 

tt 

16 

tf 

7 

tt 

picking  pockets. 

156th 

tt 

14 

»> 

3 

tt 

stealing  cigars.                  [empbyer. 

157th 

1 

tt 

16 

ft 

1 

tt 

stealmg  two  felt  hats  and  a  cap  from 

158th 

tt 

16 

tt 

1 

ft 

stealing  49.  Id.  frt>m  master. 

159th 

tt 

15 

tt 

6 

tt 

stealing  lead. 

!                160th 

ft 

16 

ft 

1 

tf 

stealing  some  com. 

16lBt 

ft 

16 

tt 

9 

tt 

stealing  some  cotton  print. 

162nd 

tt 

16 

ft 

3 

ft 

stealing  cigars. 

163rd 

tt 

16 

tt 

2 

tt 

burglary,  with  two  other  boys. 

164th 

ft 

14 

9> 

2 

tt 

stealing  some  jackets. 

165  th 

tt 

16 

tt 

11 

ff 

picking  pookets. 

166th 

tt 

16 

tf 

1 

>9 

stealing  frx)m  a  till. 

HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


419 


16701  FriBoner,  15  years  of  age,  1  times  in  prison,  for  stealing  10  bottles  of  wine. 


168th 

>9 

14 

>> 

4 

169th 

>> 

16 

99 

1 

170th 

ff 

16 

}t 

4 

17lBt 

tJ 

14 

>> 

3 

172nd 

>> 

16 

99 

4 

178rd 

ft 

16 

99 

1 

174th 

99 

15 

99 

3 

175th 

99 

18t 

>> 

1 

176th 

>> 

18 

99 

3 

177th 

>> 

11 

>> 

1 

178th 

9* 

14 

>» 

5 

179th 

>»        , 

16 

>> 

1 

180th 

>> 

15 

» 

2 

isist 

99 

16 

J> 

1 

182nd 

99 

16 

>> 

6 

183Td 

99 

14 

»> 

3 

184th 

>> 

13 

99 

1 

185th 

99 

15 

99 

9 

186th 

99 

16 

M 

1 

187th 

>> 

15 

» 

3 

188th 

»> 

16 

»> 

7 

189th 

» 

13 

>> 

10 

190th 

>> 

15 

>> 

5 

lOlst 

99 

16 

» 

1 

192nd 

» 

14 

>> 

1 

193Td 

» 

16 

>> 

2 

194th 

99 

15 

» 

2 

91 

99 
99 


picking  pockets.  [in  it.* 

taking  a  lady's  reticule,  witii  £2  15«. 

picking  pockets. 

stealing  18«.  6(^.  fh)m  a  till. 

stealing  a  coat. 

robbing  master  of  £4. 

picking  pockets. 

stealing  tools. 

stealing  some  oil-doth. 

stealing  gold  rings. 

stealing  some  walnuts  from  market. 

picking  pockets. 


» 


99 


stealing  shoe-brushes. 

stealing  a  watch. 

picking  pockets. 

stealing  £1  7«.  from  employer. 

picking  pockets. 


99 


>> 


99 


stealing  a  pair  of  boots, 
stealing  coat  and  umbrella, 
stealing  £2  15«.  from  a  till, 
robbing  master  of  10|(^. 
picking  pockets, 
stealing  a  watch, 
picking  pockets. 


Besides  these,  there  were  others  in  the  long-room,  whose  ages  and  number  of  times  of 
imprisonment  we  omitted  to  take  down,  and  who  were  confined  for  the  following  offences: — 

Stealing  2d.,  stealing  a  watch,  ditto  some  lead,  ditto  bread,  ditto  some  cloth,  picking 
pockets,  stealing  4«.  from  a  till,  stealing  some  carpet,  ^picking  pockets,  hreaking  a  window ! 
stealing  a  bit  of  soap,  ditto  a  scrubbing-brush,  going  into  offices  with  his  mother's  keys, 
picking  pockets,  taking  some  stone-mason's  tools,  stealing  some  gratings,  picking  pockets, 
stealing  some  lead,  ditto  ditto,  taking  a  waistcoat,  ditto  a  pair  of  boots,  ditto  £1  from  his 
father. 

Of  the  misdemeanants,  the  fines  for  the  non-payment  of  which  they  had  been  sent  to 
prison,  were  as  under : — 

One  had  been  sentenced  to  pay  10«.,  or  suffer  14  daj^s'  imprisonment,  for  ''heaving 
stonea.'^ 

Another,  to  pay  £1,  or  undergo  the  same  imprisonment,  for  thasame  offence. 

Another  had  had  the  same  penalty  imposed,  or  the  same  term  of  imprisonment,  for  a 
like  breach  of  the  law. 

Whereas  a  fourth  had  been  fined  £2,  or  one  month,  for  a  similar  ''  erme,'* 

A  fifth  had  had  5«.  or  seven  days  imposed  upon  him  for  *'  heaving  clay  about,"  as  he 
called  it. 

Whilst  a  sixth  had  been  fined  £2,  or  one  month's  imprisonment,  for  breaking  a  street 
lamp. 

*  Boy  Baid  he  pulled  it  forcibly  from  the  lady's  arm. 

t  This  prisoner  had  given  his  age  at  17,  so  aa  to  be  sent  to  Tothill  Fields. 


420  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Now  the  conclusioiiB  to  be  drawn  from  the  above  list  appear  to  ub  to  be — 
1.  That  the  greater  proportLon  of  the  boys  confined  in  Tothill  Fields  prison  are  there  for 
picking  pockets— indeed  as  many  as  66  in  194  (or  rather  more  than  one-third  of  the  whole) 
are  in  prison  for  this  offence ;  and  that  most  of  these,  young  as  they  are,  are  old  ''jail  birds," 
some  of  them  having  been  a  greater  number  of  times  in  prison  than  they  are  years  old.  One, 
for  instance,  whose  age  was  but  14,  confessed  to  having  been  committed  no  less  than  17 
times.  Whilst  others,  though  but  10  years  of  age,  had  already  been  more  than  once  recom- 
mitted for  the  same  crime. 

*  2.  Next  to  the  picking  of  pockets,  the  purloining  of  metal  constitates  the  largest  propor- 
tion of  the  offences  committed  by  the  young,  there  being  about  12  in  every  100  of  the  boj- 
prisoners  sentenced  for  this  crime ;  and  these  again  are  mostly  all  habitual  offenders,  the 
majority  having  been  several  times  recommitted. 

3.  Bome  few  of  the  boys  are  imprisoned  for  serious  crimes.  Some  for  burglary,  for 
instance,  others  for  housebreaking,  and  others  for  highway  robbery  of  watches ;  whilst  others, 
again,  though  less  daring,  have  been  concerned  in  the  purloining  of  silver  tea-kettles,  of  jewelry, 
and  pencil-cases,  and  silver  plate,  and  watches,  and  timepieces,  and  gold  chainsy  and  rings, 
and  ladies'  reticules,  &c. 

4.  Many  of  the  other  offences  belong  to  tke  class  perpetrated  by  those  who  are  expres- 
sively termed  ''sneaks."  These  consist  of  what  is  styled  tiie  "frisking  of  tills,"  the 
pilfering  of  meat,  bread,  wine,  coats,  umbrellas,  boots,  cigars,  chickens,  pigeons,  guinea-pigs, 
sacks  of  rags,  oats,  beans,  coals  j&om  barges,  and  indeed  anytiiing  that  the  urchins  can  lay 
their  hands  upon. 

5.  In  addition  to  these  there  is  stiU  a  small  dass  of  boys  confined  for  the  robbery  of 
their  employers,  the  amounts  taken  ranging  from  10|^.  up  to  £2  odd;  but  these,  on  the 
other  hand,  are  mostly  inexperienced  offenders,  and  belong  to  a  dass  who  at  least  have  been 
engaged  in  some  industrial  occupation,  and  who  should  be  in  no  way  confounded  witii  the 
young  habitual  thieves. 

6.  Further,  there  is  a  considerable  number  who  are  confined  for  ofBsnces  that  not  even 
the  sternest-minded  can  rank  as  crime,  and  for  which  the  committal  to  a  felon's  prison  can 
but  be  regarded  by  every  righteous  mind,  not  only  as  an  in£uny  to  the  magistrate  conoemed, 
but  even  as  a  scandal  to  the  nation  which  permits  the  law-oifioers  of  the  country  so  &r  to 
outrage  justice  and  decency.  To  this  class  of  offences  belong  the  spinning  of  tope,  the 
breaking  of  windows,  the  "heaving"  of  stones,  the  sleeping  in  Kensington  Gbrdens, 
getting  over  walls,  and  such  like  misdemeanours,  far  many  of  whioh  we  see,  by  Uie  above 
list,  that  the  lads  were  suffering  their  first  imprisonment. 

Now,  the  latter  conclusion  serves  to  show  that  juvenile  crime  is  not  aluf0jf»  begotten  by 
bad,  or  no  parental  care,  but  springs  frequently  from  a  savage  love  of  consigning  people  to 
prison  for  faults  that  cannot  even  be  classed  as  immoral,  much  less  oriminal. 


H  ii--«. 
Of  the  Bays'  Work  at  TothiU  FiMs. 

The  labour  performed  at  this  prison  consists  of  almost  the  same  forms  as  tlioee  we  have 
already  described  at  Coldbath  Fields,  and  the  convict  institutions  of  the  Metropolis.  Oakum- 
picking  constitutes,  as  usual,  the  greater  proportion  of  the  work,  though  the  amount  earned 
by  the  prisoners  at  such  an  occupation  yields  barely  £1  per  head  per  annum,  whilst  the  cost 


HOUSE  OF  COKEUECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  421 

of  mainteiiaiice,  clothing,  &c.,  is  more  than  Boven  timeB  as  much.  There  are  also  certain 
gangs  put  to  tailoring  and  shoemaking,  and  some  two  or  three  indiyiduals  to  carp^ntryy 
whilst  a  few  are  employed  in  gardening. 

In  all  the  forms  of  work,  however,  the  vital  defect  is,  that  the  labour  is  enforced  as  a 
matter  of  punishment  rather  than  as  the  means  of  educating  the  young  prisoners  in  some 
handicraft,  or,  indeed,  inculcating  in  them  the  love  of  honest  exertions.  Of  industrial 
training  there  is  not  a  shadow,  nor,  to  do  the  authorities  justice,  the  UaU  pretence.  In 
fact,  we  much  question  if  any  of  the  worthies  who  are  entrusted  with  the  care  of  these 
wretched  HtUe  outcasts,  ever  pxuszled  their  brains  as  to  how  habits  are  formed  at  any  time,  or 
speculated  on  that  wondrous  ^notion  of  the  human  machinery  which,  after  a  time,  transforms 
those  acts  of  volition  which  require  a  special  effort,  and  are  consequently  more  or  less 
irluome  to  perform  ai  first,  into  acts  of  an  automatic  character,  which  become  at  length, 
rather  than  being  irksome  to  do,  irksome  to  leave  undone — and  that  merely  by  being 
repeated  at  regular  andfrequmt  int&rvak. 

Again,  all  persons  affecting  the  least  philosophy,  know  that  the  highest  worldly 
lesson,  perhaps,  a  being  can  be  taught,  is  that  of  self-reliance — ^to  have  faith  in  his 
own  powers  to  contribute  to  his  own  happiness,  and  to  know  and  feel  that  he  exists  in 
an  atmosphere  of  circumstances  which  are  draught  with  the  keenest  misery  to  the 
indolent,  but  which  the  Almighty  has  given  us,  one  and  all,  more  or  less,  the  faculty  to 
mould  to  our  own  enjoyment  and  comfort,  if  we  have  but  the  will  and  the  determination  to 
do  so.  The  wretched  children,  however,  at  TothiU  Fields  are  still  allowed  to  grow  up 
with  Ihe  notion  deep-rooted  in  their  brain,  that  the  best  and  easiest  means  of  obtaining  the 
objects  of  their  desires  is  either  to  appropriate,  or  beg  for,  the  property  of  others,  and  to 
regard  labour  as  a  scourge  and  a  punishment,  rather  than  the  safest  and  readiest  means  of 
eontributing  to  their  pleasures.  True,  the  children  are  duly  taught  to  spell  and  to  write, 
sad  to  chatter  catechisms  and  creeds  that  they  cannot  understand.  The  State,  however,  we 
hold,  has  more  to  do  with  the  formation  of  good  citizens  than  good  Christians.  The  office  of 
an  enlightened  and  liberal  Government  is  to  see  that  each  man  does  his  duty  to  his  neighbour ; 
u)r  has  it  any  right  to  meddle  with  the  duty  individuals  owe  to  God,  for  grant  the  contrary, 
and  it  is  possible  to  justify  all  those  religious  tyrannies  and  persecutions  from  which  every 
true  Protestant  thinks  it  the  great  glory  of  the  age  to  have  escaped. 

Now,  we  do  not  hesitate  to  confess  that  there  is  in  aU  prisons  a  great  deal  too  much  care 
for  the  happiness  of  a  being  in  the  ftiture  world,  and  too  littie  for  his  happiness  in  the 
present ;  in  a  word,  we  believe  there  is  too  much  faith  placed  in  the  influence  of  the  chaplain, 
and  too  little  in  the  knowledge  of  the  physician  (using  the  word  in  its  comprehensive 
German  sense).  No  man  desires  more  devoutly  to  see  the  world  Christianized  than  ourselves 
— ^none  wishes  more  ardentiy  to  behold  the  day  when  religion  shall  become  a  deep  abiding 
presence  in  the  soul,  and  the  perfection  of  the  Divine  Nature  be  the  true  standard  of  excel- 
lence to  which  all  men  shall  endeavour  to  shape  their  actions.  But  none,  at  the  same  time, 
can  have  a  deeper  loathing  and  contempt  for  those  otUward  shows  of  godliness-^those  con- 
tinued '*  lip-serrices" — ^the  everlasting  "  praying  in  public  places,"  which  the  revelation  of 
our  every-day's  commercial  and  prison  history  teaches  us  to  believe,  constitute  the  flagrant 
<< shams"  of  the  age.  The  same  social  vice  that  leads  would-be  saintly  and  really 
fraudulent  bankers  to  ride  to  their  counting-houses  in  public  omnibuses  with  the  Bible  on 
their  knees,  leads  even  thieves,  both  old  and  young,  to  affect  puritanical  forms  of  godliness, 
viz.,  with  the  view  of  obtaining  credit  with  man  rather  than  their  Maker ;  and  though  some 
Httle  good,  certainly,  has  been  done  towards  abating  the  amount  of  h3rpocrisy  in  prisons,  by  the 
abandonment  of  the  ''  penitentiary  system,"  as  it  was  called,  nevertheless,  till  men  have  the 
courage  to  speak  honestiy  upon  these  matters,  we  fear  there  is  little  hope  of  doing  much 
good  with  our  criminals. 

What  is  wanted  (and  the  defect  is  nowhere  so  apparent  as  at  this  same  Tothill  Fields 


422 


THE  GREAT  WOKLD  OF  LONDON. 


prison)  is  really  good,  sound,  wholesome,  labour  training — ^the  education  of  decent  and 
industrious  habits,  and  the  practical  inculcation,  above  all  things,  of  the  vahie  and  dignity 
of  work.  At  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction,  however,  industry  brings  no  reward ; 
the  r  or  2  lbs.  of  oakum  are  picked,  the  prison  shoes  arc  mended,  the  clothes  made,  or  the 
ground  tilled,  by  the  boys,  without  any  positive  good  accruing  from  the  work.  ^nH  yet 
these  poor  lads  require  more  than  any  in  the  land  to  be  taught  the  very  opposite  leeaon. 
Suppose,  now,  the  governor,  the  warders,  and  even  the  chaplain  himself,  were  to  be  expected 
to  do  their  prison  offices  for  nothing.  How  long,  think  you,  would  they  remain  at  their  post, 
or  how  long  would  they  continue  even  honest,  when  they  found  their  labours  unrequited? 

Nevertheless,  it  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  practice  any  regular  system  of  industrial  eduoa- 
tion  in  our  prisons  at  the  present  time.  The  magistrates  still  delight  to  send  lads  to  jail 
merely  for  a  few  days,  just  to  let  them  see,  as  it  were,  how  different  a  place  it  is  from  their 
own  home ;  for  it  will  be  found,  from  the  subjoined  table,  that  one-fourth,  or  24*8  per  cent., 
of  the  entire  number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction  are 
committed  for  less  than  14  days !  whilst  the  average  sentence  for  the  whole  of  the  1,800 
and  odd  boys  sent  there  is  not  more  than  three  months.  The  particulars  will  be  &imd 
below.* 

Of  course  it  is  idle  to  expect  that  any  impression  can  be  made  upon  a  young  offieoder 
in  so  short  a  period,  other  than  the  teaching  him  th^t  there  is  a  comfortable  house  and  good 
food  always  ready  for  him  at  Westminster,  and  for  which  the  terms  of  admission  are  merely 
throwing  an  oyster-shell  through  one  of  the  street  lamps. 

But  let  us  proceed  to  describe  what  we  saw  and  learnt  in  the  shoemakers'  and  tailorB' 
room  at  this  prison. 

These  workshops  are  both  situate  on  the  first  floor  of  the  wing  styled  No.  8  prison,  and 
each  consbts  of  a  room  hardly  larger  than  a  suburban  parlour,  and  which  has  been  fanned 
by  knocking  three  of  the  ordinary  cells  into  one.  The  walls  are  whitewashed,  the  roof 
vaulted,  and  the  floor  paved  with  bricks. 

Around  the  shoemakers*  shop  shelves  are  ranged ;  and  upon  these  we  found  bundles  of  new 
shoes  in  quires,  as  it  were,  with  the  heel  of  one  thrust  into  the  other,  and  crowds  of  heavy, 
lumpish-looking  lasts ;  whilst  in  one  comer  were  bags  of  women's  old  shoes  waiting  to  be 

*    TABLB  BHOWINO  THB  TSOUB  OF  IHPBI80NMBNT  OF  THB  BOTS  CONFINED  IN  TOTHILL  FCBLD6  PUBOir 

DUKINO  THE  YBABS  ENDING   1851-65. 


Terms  of  Imprisonment. 

1851. 

1852. 

1853. 

1864. 

1855. 

Annaal 
MeuL 

Pcreeatage 

to  total 
Oommittjaa. 

Under  14  days 

14  days  and  upder  1  month .     . 

1  month  and  under  2  months    . 

2  months  and  under  3     .     .     . 

3  months  and  under  6     .     .     . 
6  months  and  under  1  year  .     . 
1  year  and  above  .    .    .    .     • 

Total  CommiUaU   .     .     .     . 

523 
382 
424 
137 
220 
176 
32 

463 
327 
429 
156 
261 
146 
26 

423 
302 
376 
166 
258 
98 
47 

483 
329 
417 
204 
309 
49 
53 

360 
272 
494 
241 
337 
128 
64 

461 
322 
428 
178 
275 
119 
44 

24-8 

17-7 

28-6 

9-8 

151 

6-6 

24 

1,898 

1,796 

1,658 

1,844 

1,896 

1,817 

1000 

1 

By  the  above  table  it  will  he  seen,  that  the  magistrates  of  late  years  have  shown  a  commeDdaUe  tendeaey 
to  deerea$€  the  imprisonments  under  1  month,  and  to  inereaae  those  above  it  Thus,  in  the  year  1851,  the 
number  of  imprisonments  for  the  former  term  amounted  to  905,  whilst  in  1856  they  were  only  638,  thoogh 
the  gross  number  of  committals  was  nearly  the  same  in  both  years.  The  number  of  longer  impcisoiuMBiti, 
howerer,  was  986  in  1851,  and  1,264  in  1865 ;  so  that,  as  the  6pe^  Report  states,  though  the  priaon 
seemed  to  be  fuller  in  the  latter  year,  the  inoreased  number  of  inmatc»cu»te.from  ''the  lengthened  tim  fat 
which  they  were  oommitted."  *  * 


g 

s 

5"  a 

3  I 


0,  :^ 


o  ►^ 

AS 

Si 


HOUSE  OP  COBBEOTION,  TOTHILI,  FIELDS.  4«8 

repaired,  axvi  basketa  foil  of  pieces  und  rolls  of  leatheii*.  ^t  a  desk  stood  the  presiding 
warder^  aurroiuided  with  tools  that  reminded  one  of  small  cheese-cntters;  whilst  the  air 
was  as  redolent  of  cobbler' s-wax  as  the  oakum-room  we  had  just  left  was  of  tar.  Across 
the  shop  the  boys  were  ranged  on  small  benohes,  and  each  with  a  ''  kit/'  or  open  tray,  at  his 
fiide^  whilst  a  gas-pipe,  that  burnt  dimly  in  the  daylight,  rose  straight  up  out  of  the  bricken 
floor,  and  stood  dose  at  the  elbow  of  the  workers,  each  of  whoni  was  half-encased  in  ^ 
leather  apron,  like  so  many  young  draymen. 

''7ake  off  your  caps,  boys,  and  cease  that  hammering,"  cries  the  ward^,  as  we  auter. 
"  Thia  is  our  monthly  book  of  the  work  ime,*'  continues  the  oMoeg,  pointing  to  a  hmg, 
thia  ypluioe  that  lies  open  on  the  desk.  ^*  We  do  mostly  repairs,  and  thjose  figures  you  see  here 
represent  the  quantity  mended  in  the  course  of  the  month.  There's  507  pairs,  you  see,  mended 
in  January  last,  885  in  Pebrua?7,  ^^^  ^  Harch»  490  in  April,  426  in  Hay,  497  in  June ;  and, 
besides  this,  we  made  5  new  pairs  of  shoes  in  January,  8  in  Eebruary,  12  in  March,  13  iu  April| 
3  in  May,  and  the  same  number  in  June;  and  that  with  13  boys  employed  in  the  shop." 
(This  gires  anayerage  of  about  7^  pairs  mitde  in  the  course  oi  each  month,  and  upwards  of 
445  pairs  mended  in  the  same  time,  which  is  at  the  rate  of  not  quite  9  pairs  mended  by 
each  hand  during  the  week.)  "We  can't  estimate  their  labour  at  much,  sir,"  the  man  weut 
on,  ''because  they  are  all  young  hands*  Here's  the  account^  you  see,  for  the  week  aiding 
the  7th  of  June.    The  earnings  of  the  13  boys  for  that  we^  are  valued  at  £2  4«.'' 

We  then  proceeded  to  inquire  as  to  the  mode  in  which  the  labour  was  estimated. 

*''Sow,  a  job  like  that,"  said  the  warder,  ''  which  is  what  we  call  half -soling,  we  reckon 
at  ad.  the  pair;  it's  only  done  in  a  rough  way,  you  see,  and  the  time  it  will  take  ahoy  depends 
upon  tiie  time  he  has  been  learning.  A  new  hand,  with  ercn  my  assistance,  will  be  a  couple 
of  days  over  it;  but  if  he  has  been  a  bit  at  the  work,  he'U  do  it  in  a  day.  We  have  the  lads, 
however,  for  such  short  terms,  i^t  we  cannot  get  them  to  be  ready  at  the  business.  I  estimate 
the  wmek  by  the  job  or  pieoe.  Half-heeling,  like  that,  I  i^ould  put  down  Id,  for.  In  the  week 
ending  the  14th  of  June,  the  boys  earned  £2  U.  Ad.\  in  the  week  ending  the  21st,  £2  4«.,  and 
in  that  ending  the  28th,  £2  3«.  4(7."  (This  makes  the  month's  earnings  amount  to  £8  \2b.  Sd., 
whieh  is  at  the  rate  of  rather  more  than  Ss.  M.  a-week,  or  £8  12«.  per  annum  for  each  hand ; 
so  that,  at  this  rate,  each  of  the  young  prisoners  would  be  more  than  self-supporting.) 

Li  the  book  ef  the  work  done,  there  were  remarks  attached  to  the  name  of  each  boy ; 
and  here  seven  were  entered  as  having  "improved,"  three  as  "not  improved,"  two  were 
said  to  be  "  learning,"  and  against  the  name  of  the  other  was  written,  "  can  dose  a  little." 
In  the  next  week  nine  were  altered  as  having  "  improved,"  and  only  two  as  having  "  not 
improved,"  whilst  the  remaining  two  were  said  to  be  "  learning  to  repair." 

The  next  point  of  inquiry  was,  how  long  the  lads  continued  under  the  instruction  of  the 
officer.  Tlie  warder  referred  to  his  book  and  said,  as  he  came  to  the  names  of  the  different 
boys,  as  follows : — 

"  Wow,  there's  that  boy,  C ,  I  had  him  about  six  months.    Then  John  B ,  there, 

he's  gone  to  the  school  at  Bedhill,  I  had  him  for  about  two  months.    Here's  a  boy  named 

R ,  I  had  him  only  for  about  three  weeks ;  and  this  boy,  L ,  I  had  for  about  five 

weeks,  as  near  as  I  can  tell.  Sometimes  I  don't  keep  them  for  more  than  a  week,  they  get 
into  trouble,  are  put  into  the  cells,  and  so  are  constantly  on  the  change." 

We  now  proceeded  to  interrogate  the  lads  employed  as  to  their  ages.  Nine  of  them  said 
they  were  16,  one  was  15,  another  14,  and  the  other  two  13  years  old. 

The  first  boy  we  questioned  said,  "  that  he  had  never  done  any  work  before  he  came 
to  the  prison.  He  had  been  at  shoemaking  three  months."  He  confessed  he  was  really 
18  years  of  age,  but  had  said  he  was  16  in  order  to  get  sent  to  this  prison.  He  had  stolen 
flome  tools,  and  was  never  in  prison  before.  Bis  sentence  was  eight  calendar  months. 
He  had  never  been  put  to  any  trade.  Had  no  father^-^nly  a  stepfather.  Had  been  at 
shoemaking  in  fiie  prison  about  three  months. 
31* 


424  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  fiecond  boy  had  been  learning  the  business  for  only  a  week.  He  had  never  been  in 
any  prison  before,  and  was  there  for  stealing  £4  from  his  master.  Had  been  an  enand-boy 
at  a  green-grocer's  shop.    His  sentence  was  nine  calendar  months. 

The  third  boy  appeared  pale  and  sickly.  He  had  stolen  a  piece  of  oil-doQi,  and  was 
sentenced  to  two  calendar  months;  he  had  been  in  priscm  thiice  before;  had  both  &ther 
and  mother,  and  had  worked  as  a  shoemaker  outside. 

A  fourth  boy  had  been  twice  in  Tothill  Fields  and  once  in  Maidstone ;  he  had  taken 
18^.  6^.,  with  two  other  boys,  out  of  a  shop-till.  Had  got  three  calendar  months.  Used  to 
Work  at  shoemakingi  along  with  his  father.    His  mother  was  living,  too. 

The  father  of  the  fifth  was  also  a  shoemaker;  '*  but,''  said  the  lad,  ''he  never  taught 
me."  This  lad  was  in  prison  for  stealing  a  half-quartern  loaf.  '<  Me  and  two  more  took  it," 
were  his  words ;  "we  didn't  want  it,  we  meant  to  sell  it."  He  had  been  three  tunes  in  this 
prison,  and  once  in  Wandsworth. 

The  sixth  boy  had  a  stepmother,  who  treated  him  badly.  He  had  stolen  £2  8#.  from  a 
man  at  a  public-house  where  he  lodged,  and  had  got  four  years'  penal  servitude.  Had  been 
in  prison  five  times  before.  Was  waiting  for  an  order  to  go^to  Bedhill.  Was  a  stone-maaon 
by  trade. 

The  next  prisoner  had  a  stepmother  also,  but  she  treated  him  welL  He  was  a  coster- 
monger  by  trade,  and  was  in  for  two  pairs  of  boots,  which  he  had  taken  from  a  shop  door. 
He  had  got  eight  months'  sentence,  and  had  been  recommitted  half  a  dozen  tunes. 

The  lad  next  the  last-mentioned  looked  ill ;  he*  was  a  bootmaker  by  trade,  and  had  both 
father  and  mother  living.  He  was  in  for  stealing  some  shoe-brushes;  Iheie  were  thzee  mors 
boys  in  with  him.    He  had  got  three  calendar  months,  and  had  been  twice  reoommitied* 

Another  lad  confessed  himself  a  pickpocket.  He  said  he  went  out  regularly  with  a 
''school"  of  boys.  "He  used  to  get  hankychers,  and  purses  sometimes."  Had  been  in 
twice  before,  and  had  got  three  months.  Was  a  "  hawk-boy,"  he  said,  at  the  plaateran' 
trade.    His  mother  was  alive,  but  he  had  no  father. 

Another  stated  that  he  "  thieved  a  gold  watch ;"  he  had  "  screwed  it,"  he  said ;  and  one 
other  boy  was  with  him.  He'd  got  three  months  for  it  Was  never  in  Tothill  Fielda  befoie, 
but  was  twice  at  the  House  of  Detention.    Had  both  father  and  mother  living. 

The  next  was  in  for  stealing  four  silk  handkerchiefs  out  of  a  window,  and  had  got  six 
calendar  months.    He  was  of  no  trade,  and  had  both  fkther  and  mother. 

One  of  the  two  remaining  lads  was  a  shoemaker  outside.  He  was  in  for  stealing  8#.  fimn 
his  master's  till.  Was  never  in  prison  before,  and  had  got  four  calendar  montha.  Father 
and  mother  both  alive. 

The  other,  and  the  last  boy,  was  no  trade.  He  had  been  sentenced  to  two  years'  impcison- 
ment  for  picking  a  woman's  pocket  of  10«.  "  He  went  out  regularly  with  a  gang  of  ether 
boys,"  he  said.  Had  been  six  times  in  Tothill  Fields,  twice  in  Wandsworth,  and  onoe  in 
Chelmsford.  His  father  was  a  bricklayer's  labourer,  and  had  been  a  soldier.  He  had  never 
sent  him  to  school,  or  put  him  to  any  trade. 

This  completed  the  history  of  the  several  lads  employed;  but,  before  leaving,  we  vere 
farther  informed,  that  the  shoemaking  work  was  done  only  for  the  prison.  New  shoes  are 
valued  at  2«.  4d,  the  pair  for  making,  closing  and  all. 

We  also  learnt  here,  that  it  is  not  usual  to  keep  "  two  years'  boys"  at  Tothill  Fields. 
"There's  an  order  now,"  said  our  informant,  "that  aU  boys  sentenced  for  twelve  months  and 
upwards,  shall  be  reported  to  the  Home  OfiS.ce,  with  the  view  to  their  being  sent  to  BedhilL 
There's  farm  labour  there  for  the  lads,"  said  the  warder;  "and  when  I  was  down  at  the 
place  three  weeks  ago,  the  crops  were  beautiful,  I  assure  you,  sir."* 


•  The  fubjoined  is  the  form  iflsned  to  boys  previous  to  their  beiag  teat  to  the  Fhilandiropio 
School,  and  the  appended  certificate  has  to  be  eigaed  by  them,  though  how  the  Govenaaeat  sathodliei 
expect  a  mere  child  to  understand  the  wording  of  an  Aot  of  Parliament,  and  how  they  oan  aikaa  **iaha$^* 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  426 

The  tailora'  ahoj^  at  this  prisoii,  is  the  same  in  size  and  style  as  the  shoemakers*,  with 
the  exception  that  the  bricken  parement  is  portly  covered  with  a  raised  floor,  that  serves 
for  a  shop-board  for  the  boys  at  work.  At  the  time  of  our  visit,  there  were  some  20  lads 
sitting  cross-legged  here  like  so  many  veritable  yonng  Turks.  The  usual  complement  of 
juvenile  tailors  is  26,  we  were  told,  but  when  we  were  there,  some  few  were  at  the  school- 
room. In  one  comer  of  the  apartment  was  a  kind  of  counter  for  cutting  out,  fitted  with 
drawers,  and  littered  with  blue  cloth,  and  in  the  opposite  comer  sat  the  presiding  warder 
on  a  stooL  Against  the  wall  stood  a  small  press,  and  there  was  a  new  pair  of  trousers 
hanging  by  the  window. 

''Some  of  those  that  are  at  work  here,"  said  the  warder,  in  answer  to  our  inquiries^ 
"  have  been  tibree  months  on  the  board ;  that  is  the  longest  time  any  of  the  boys  you  see 
have  been  working  in  the  shop,  though  I  do  sometimes  get  a  hand  or  two  that  remains  with 
me  for  six  months.  Many  of  these  lads,  however,  have  been  only  ten  days  at  the  work 
at  present;  but  some  have  been  at  the  trade  before,  and  if  we  loiow  they  are  of  use,  we 
employ  them.  We  have  them,  however,  for  so  short  a  time,  that  it's  impossible  to  learn 
them  much." 

to  affix  his  name  to  a  docnment,  when,  ia  law,  he  has  no  poirer  to  oommit  any  aet  of  hia  own,  ia  beyond 
aa  to  appreciate: — 

"  OOMDITIONAL  PABDON  TO  TOUKO  0]?TBNX>SBa^ 

^*Ut  ^  2nd  Victoria,  Cap,  82,  SeeL  11. 

'^Whereaa  Her  Majesty  haa  lately  exerciaed  Her  Boyal  Prerogatiye  of  Mercy  in  granting  Pardon 
to  TooDg  OfEendeiB  who  have  heen  sentenced  to  Transportation  or  Imprisonment,  upon  the  condition  of 
placing  himaelf  or  herself  nnder  the  care  of  aome  Charitable  Institution  for  the  Reception  and  Reforma- 
turn  of  Young  Offenders  named  in  such  Pardon,  and  conforming  to  and  abiding  by  the  Orders  and  Bnlea 
thereof:  And  whereas  the  same  has  been  found  beneficial :  And  whereas  it  is  expedient  that  some  ProTision 
should  be  made  for  carryiog  the  same  more  fully  into  effect;  Be  it  therefore  enacted,  That  from  and  after 
the  paaaing  of  thia  Aot,  in  case  any  Toung  Offender  who  haa  been  or  shall  be  hereafter  sentenced  to  Trana- 
portation  or  Impriaonment  haa  been  or  Aall  be  pardoned  by  Her  Majeaty  for  auch  Offence  upon  such 
condition  aa  aforeaaid,  and  haa  or  ahall  accept  such  conditional  Pardon,  and  shall  afterwarda  absoond  from 
such  Institution,  or  wilfully  neglect  or  refuse  to  abide  by  and  conform  to  the  Bules  thereof,  it  shall  and  may 
be  lawful  to  and  for  any  Justice  of  the  Peace  acting  in  and  for  the  County,  City,  Biding,  or  Division, 
wherein  the  said  Offender  shall  actually  be  at  the  Time  he  shall  so  abscond  or  neglect  or  refuse  aa  aforeaaid, 
upon  due  Proof  thereof  made  before  him,  upon  the  Oath  of  One  credible  Witneas,  by  Warrant  under  hia 
Hand  and  Seal,  to  commit  the  Party  so  offending  for  eyery  such  Offence  to  any  Gaol  or  House  of  Correc- 
tion for  the  aaid  County,  City,  Biding,  or  Division,  with  or  without  hard  Labour,  for  any  period  not 
exceeding  Three  Calendar  Months  for  the  First  Offence,  and  not  exceeding  Six  Calendar  Months  for  the 
Seoond  or  any  aubsequent  Offence,  in  case  the  Managers  or  Directors  of  any  such  Charitable  Institution 
shall  be  willing  to  receive  any  such  Young  Offender  after  his  or  her  being  convicted  of  absconding, 
neglecting,  or  refusbg  aa  aforeaaid ;  and  in  every  Case  such  Imprisonment  shall  be  in  addition  to  the 
original  Sentence  of  auch  Young  Offender ;  and  after  the  Expiration  of  the  Time  of  such  additional 
Puniahment,  if  the  Managera  or  Directora  of  any  auch  Charitable  Institution  shall  refuse  to  receive  such 
Offender^  or  if  Her  Majeaty  shall  not  be  pleased  to  exercise  Her  Boyal  Prerogative  in  pardoning  the  Breach 
of  the  condition  on  which  the  former  Pardon  was  granted,  the  said  Party  shall  forfeit  all  Benefit  of  the  aaid 
PardoD,  and  ahall  be  remitted  to  the  original  Sentence,  and  shall  undergo  the  Besidue  thereof,  aa  if  no  such 
Pardon  h^  been  granted^" 

'<  I  do  hereby  acknowledge  that  the  Clause  in  the  above-recited  Act  of  Parliament  has  been  read  oyer 
and  explained  to  me,  and  that  I  of  my  own  free  will  and 

aocoard  do  promise  that  I  will  con^rm  to  and  abide  by  the  Bulea  and  Orders  of  the  Philanthropic  Farm 
SduMly  at  Bedhill,  in  the  county  of  Surrey,  and  will  go  abroad  whenever  I  may  be  found  auffisiently 
inateaot^  or  otherwiae  suitable  for  emigration  by  the  GoToxnora  of  that  Jnatitution,  and  that  I  reoeire  my 
Pardon  upon  auch  Conditiona. 

«<I>»tedthis  day  of 

4«The  total  number  of  boys  under  17  yean  of  age,"  says  the  Special  Report  of  the  Visiting  Justices  of 
1866,  **iHio  h«f«  been  oommitted  to  thia  prison,  during  the  five  years  ending  Michaelmaa,  1861,  amounted 


426 


THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 


"  They're  working  How  at  the  prisonere'  clothing,  and  part  of  the  offioers'  oniform.  We 
do  all  the  repairs  of  the  prison,  and  don't  do  any  irork  for  out  of  doors." 

**  The  earnings  of  last  week/'  the  officer  went  on,  as  we  interrogated  him  on  the  Adject, 
"  were  £1  I69. ;  the  week  before  they  were  £1  6«.  4d. ;  before  that,  £1  12f.  6^. ;  and 
£1  8».  6d.  for  the  previons  one ;  that's  for  26  boys."  (This  gives  an  average  of  £1  IO9.  lOi. 
per  week,  earned  by  the  entire  shop,  which  is  at  the  rate  of  U.  2|i.  per  week  for  each 
boy,  or  £3  U.  9d,  per  annnm.*) 

"  The  greater  number  of  the  Idds  are  of  very  little  nse  except  at  repairing  clothinf." 
continued  the  officer.  "  There  are  only  about  eight  or  nine  of  all  those  now  on  the  board 
that  r  can  put  on  the  new  work.     One  here,"  he  said,  pointing  to  a  lad,  "  has  been  at 

tailoring  work  outside.   Most  all  of  fJiem  have  been  taught  in  this  prison.  Thai  boy,  P , 

yonder,  is  one  of  the  best  hands  I  have ;  he's  been  taught  here,  and  is  in  Tcry  fiieqaentlr. 
He's  been  in — ^let  me  see ! — How  many  times  have  you  been  in,  JP ?" 

"  Pour  times,"  replied  the  lad. 

**  Ah !  and  I  should  think  he  has  been  about  nine  months  on  the  board  altogeiher," 

added  the  warder.      ''And  there's  D ,  too,  he's  been  recommitted  about  the  same 

number  of  times,  and  been  about  as  long  at  the  trade.  The  boys  prefer  this  work  to  the 
oakum-picking.  They  express  a  wish  to  improve  themselves,  so  as  to  be  able  to  get  a  living 
outside,  though  very  few  take  advantage  of  it." 


to  no  less  than  t,763,  while  only  263  (not  8}  per  cent.)  vere  reoeiyed  into  reformatory  asylums  fi^m  it" 
The  distribution  of  tiiese  Is  shown  in  the  following  table : — 

TJUILB  SHOWIHO  THl  NUMBEB  OF  B0T8  &BCQBXYBD  INTO  PHILAMTHEOPIG  IK8TITUTI01IB    DUmUfO  THB  THIS 

ZNDIKO  XICHABLMAS,   1851 — 56. 


Philanthropic  Farm  School  . 
The  London  Colonial  Dormitory 
The  Bagged  School  Dormitory 
The  House  of  Ooeupation 
Juvenile  Refuge  .  .  . 
the  House  in  the  East . 
Kentish  Town  School  . 
Pear  Street  Refuge  .  . 
Boys'  Home,  Wandsworlh 
St.  GiW  Industrial  Sohoo 
Metropolitan  Reformatory,  Brixton 
Grotto  Passage  Industrial  School 
Boys*  Refuge,  Whiteohapel    .    . 


Total 


fl         • 


1851. 

1852. 

4 

S 

80 

84 

20 

~- 

a 

6 

— 

9 

— - 

1 

— . 

1 

— 

4 

57 

57 

11 
11 


23 
14 


3 
9 


3 


13 
6 


59 


TotaL 


2 

10 

2 
16 


12 
1 
5 
5 
1 


28 
94 

20 

12 

9 

43 
15 
4 
25 
7 
5 
5 


Average  received  into  reformatory  asylums  from  1851 — 65    ....    52. 

*  It  is  difficult  to  understand  why  the  earnings  in  the  tailors*  shop,  where  double  the  muAtttt  hsiMb 
are  employed,  are  but  little  more  than  half  those  of  the  shoemakers'.  Out  of  doors  a  tailor  earns  as  muob 
ttioney  as  a  shoemaker,  so  (hat,  according  t6  Oocker,  if  the  labour  of  18  boy«  employed  at  ahoemaUsig  is 
estimated  at  £2  St,  2d.,  that  of  26  boys,  woiking  at  an  equally  profitable  callkig,  diould  be  worth  £4  6«.  4d 
'We  have  eeen,  however,  that  the  earnings  of  the  entire  26  boy-tailors,  are  computed  at  only  £1  19«.  10A> 
flo  that  it  is  evident  that  the  value  of  boy-shoemaker's  woric  must  be  considerably  ovenraled,  as  we  showed  to 
be  the  ease  at  GoldbaOi  Fields.  Indeed,  the  estimates  fbrmed  at  the  cotreelional  prisons  aa  to  Ae  estninss 
of  the  prisoners  are  comparatively  worthless,  being  generally  left  to  the  mere  caprice  of  the  thsd^^warder; 
so  that  at  those  prisons  where  special  pains  are  taken— as,  for  instance,  at  Wandsworth— to  arrire  at  more 
accurate  results,  the  prisoners  seem,  by  the  returns,  to  have  been  comparatively  idling,  whibt  at  other 
institutions,  like  Ooldbath  Fields,  the  prison  is  made  to  appear  several  ^ouaand  imiuids  leaa  espeBaive  to  the 
oountry  than  it  really  la.  Surely  the  Government  should  not  allow  such  a  state  of  st«tiati«al  eoofiisioa  to 
oontinne* 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTIOir,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  427 

One  kd  we  spoke  to  said,  ''  Yes,  I  like  tailozing  better  than  oakum  work.  I  want  to 
learn  a  trade." 

The  boy  P said^  "  He  didn't  do  any  tailoring  outside,  but  it  was  better  and  easier 

work  than  the  oakum.  He  did,  though,  one  week's  work  at  it  last  time  he  was  out.  I 
went,"  he  added,  "  for  a  week  on  trial  to  a  shop,  and  I  was  going  back  on  the  Monday, 
but  got  took  on  the  Sunday  while  I  was  out  thieving  with  some  other  boys.'' 

We  asked  him  whether  he  made  or  repaired  his  own  clothes  when  he  was  at  liberty,  and 
his  answer  was,  "  that  he  liked  to  be  able  to  do  something  for  his-self."  The  officer  informed 
us,  moreoyer,  that  the  lads  generally  preferred  tailoring,  because  they  were  not  so  liable  to 
get  reported  for  not  doing  the  precise  quantity  of  work. 

We  then^  conferred  with  the  warder  as  to  his  mode  of  yaldng  the  labour  done  by 
the  prisoners. 

*^  We  estimate  the  work  on  these  boys'  jackets,"  he  said,  taking  up  one  of  the  ordinary 
prison  garments,  **  at  9d.  each,  the  trousers  at  the  same,  and  the  waistcoats  at  6(^.-^that  id, 
kit  Tnaking ;  and  for  repairing  we  put  the  work  down  at  Id.  a  garment,  taking  one  with 
the  other.  Making  officers'  uniform  trousers  we  value  at  4«.;  the  waistcoats  at  the  same 
price;  &o  coats  are  made  at  Goldbath  Fields." 

In  the  carpenters'  shop  we  found  only  one  boy-prisoner,  who  was  busy  making  a  deal 
boot-jack  for  one  of  the  officers.  This  shop  was  about  the  same  size  as  that  of  the  tailors* 
and  shoemakers'.  We  now  lost  the  tarry  smell  pervading  the  oakum-room,  and  the  waxy 
and  leathery  odour  of  the  shoemakers'  shop,  as  well  as  the  singed-blanket  perj^mio 
of  the  tailors',  for  here  the  nostrils  were  regaled  by  a  strong  turpentiney  smell  of  deal ; 
and  shears,  and  tape  measures,  and  cutting  boards,  and  kits,  and  lasts,  and  small  cheese- 
cutters,  as  well  as  hooks,  and  heaps  of  fuzzy  oakum,  reminding  of  a  pile  of  ladies'  '^frtwttes,** 
now  gave  way  to  benches,  and  tool-boxes,  and  planks,  and  curly  shavings  littering  the 
floor. 

In  the  carpenters'  shop,  two  bo3rs  are  generally  kept  employed.  The  carpenter  himself 
was  away  at  the  period  of  our  visit,  at  work  in  the  females'  prison,  and  the  other  lad  had 
been  sent  to  the  oakum-room  until  his  return. 

The  boy  at  work  was  an  intelligent-looking  youth,  and  sixteen  years  of  age.  He  was 
in  prison  for  stealing  two  felt  hats  and  a  cap  £x>m  his  employer.  It  was  his  first  offence* 
His  father  and  mother  were  both  alive.  On  his  coming  up  to  London,  from  the  country^ 
he  had  a  situation  in  a  lawyer's  office,  he  told  us,  and  afterwards  was  employed  at  a  hatter's. 
It  was  from  the  shop  at  which  he  worked  that  he  stole  the  articles  for  which  he  was 
imprisoned. 

**  I  was  very  foolish/'  he  said  to  us,  with  apparent  earnestness,  "  and  hope  to  do  better 
for  the  future.  My  time  expires  on  Wednesday-week,"  he  added,  with  a  twinkle  of  the 
eye,  and  a  slight  quiver  of  the  lip,  ''and  father  is  going  to  try  and  apprentice  me,  or  get  me 
work*    I've  had  four  calendar  months.    No,  sir,  I  never  was  at  the  carpentry  trade  before  I 

came  here,  and  I  like  it  well  enough.    I  once  lived  with  Mr.  F ,  in  Begent  Street, 

and  he  would  give  me  a  good  character.  I  am  sure  I  don't  know  whether  I  shall  go  on 
at  carpentry,  until  I've  seen  father." 

This  boy's  work,  the  chief  warder  informed  us,  was  not  returned  aa  labour  of  any  value* 
**  One  of  the  carpenter  boys,"  he  added,  ''  who  had  lately  gone  out,  was  worth,  he  should 
say,  about  10#.  or  12#.  a-week.  He  had  been  employed  at  the  trade  outside  with  his  undei 
who  was  a  carp^iter.  Soys,  generallyi  axe  found  to  like  carpentering,  and  some  are  very 
quick  at  the  craft." 

In  the  oakum*store— which  is  one  of  the  small  offices  ranged  round  the  planted  court* 
yard — ^we  fotmd  nine  more  prisoners  engaged,  and  here  were  large  coils  of  old  rope,  and 


42S  THE  QEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOI^. 

huge  scales  dangling  from  the  beam  overhead,  and  canvas  bags  and  baskets  filled  with  pieces 
of  junk,  ready  cut  up,  besides  a  large  screw-press,  on  which  was  painted — 

"PBISOITEKS  ABE   KOT  ALLOWED   TO   SPEAK  TO  EACH   OTHER.** 

Some  of  the  boys  employed  here  were  seated  on  small  stools,  and  one,  on  an  inverted 
basket,  was  busily  unpicking  the  ''  strands"  of  the  junk,  whilst  others  were  zepicking  the 
oakum  that  had  been  badly  done. 

One  boy,  too,  was  laying  strings  of  spun-yam  in.  a  large  tub,  ready  for  packing  the  picked 
oakum  into  "cheeses,"  or  bundles  of  half  cwts.  "The  spun  yam,"  said  the  oflloer  in 
attendance,  "  is  laid  in  the  tub,  and  the  oakum  *  treaded'  in,  and  then  pressed  down  by  the 
Qcrew-press  there."-  In  this  store  the  junk  is  weighed,  and  tied  into  bundles  of  1  lb.  and  1^  lb. 
and  2  lbs.  The  price  paid  by  the  contractor  who  supplies  the  prison  with  jun&  for  picking 
into  oakum,  is  £4  10«.  the  ton. 

"  That  boy  there,"  continued  the  officer,  pointing  to  a  lad  at  work  in  one  comer  of  the 
apartment,  "  is  making  a  mat.  We  estimate  the  value  of  such  work  at  4i?.  the  square  foot,  and 
that  one  is  about  6  feet,  and  the  labour  upon  it  worth  2«.  He  will  make  about  1|  of  such 
mats  in  the  course  of  the  week.  He  never  did  anything  of  the  kind  before  he  came  here. 
He's  got  12  months'  imprisonment,  and  has  been  about  three  months  with  us ;  he  can  make 
a  mat  very  well  now."*  ... 

The  garden  work  only  remains  to  be  described,  to  complete  our  aocount  of  the  prison 
labour  at  Tothill  Fields. 

The  garden  at  this  prisoi^  consists  of  about  two  acres  within  the  waUs,  and  three  acres 
outside  of  them.  Around  the  prison  runs  a  small  strip,  barely  more  than  fifty  feet  wide, 
and  pai't  of  this  is  devoted  to  the  governor's  flower-beds  and  vegetables.  Here,  too,  is 
a  small  lawn  to  be  seen,  and  a  puny  fountain  playing  like  an  inverted  wat^ing-pot,  with 
bits  of  slag  and  flint  piled  about  its  base.  The  high  and  yellow  boundary  wall  of  the 
prison  is  seen  behind  this,  and,  immediately  overlooking  it,  the  eye .  rests  upon  the  -back  of 
the  newly-built  houses  in  Victoria  Street.  As  we  pass  along,  we  hear  the  cry  of  the  babies 
shut  up  with  their  mothers  in  prison  C  4  and  5,  and  afterwards  we  come  to  the  spot  where 
the  old  tread- wheels  formerly. existed;  and  on  our  requesting  to  know  the  chief  warder's 
Opinion  as  to  the  effect  of  that  form  of  labour  upon  prisoners'  minds,  he  says,  as  we  journey, 
along  towards  the  garden  without  the  walls,  "  I  think  the  old  tread- wheel  here,  sir,  did  no 
good;  that  kind  of  useless  labour,  to  my  fancy,  never  made  a  man  better — it  never 
reformed  a  prisoner,  of  course,  for  it's  only  intended  as  a  punishment.  The  wheels  have 
been  taken  down  about  ten  years — ^long  before  the  transfer  of  women  took  place;  it  was 
in  1846,  if  my  me^mory  serves  me  right.  The  place  was  wanted  for  work-rooms,  and  that 
was  on6  reason  for  their  being  removed,  but  some  of  the  magistrates  were  against  that  kind 
6f  work.  Mr.  Welsby  was,  for  one.  He  said  it  was  useless  labour ;  and  he,  I. think,  was  the 
principal  cause  of  its  being  done  away  with.  We  never  had  more  than  two  tnead-wheek 
here,  and  each  used  to  be  worked  by  30  hands  at  a  time ;  boys  were  generally  put  on  with  the 
men,  but  women  never.  Before  the  wheels  were  divided,  each  hand  used  to  do  between 
10,000  and  12,000  feet  of  ascent  daily ;  but  latterly,  after  the  division  into  boxes,  7,000  used 
to  be  the  number."  The  outer  garden  is  enclosed  by  a  low  wall,  and  is  on  the  side  of  the 
prison  towards  Pimlico.  It  consists  of  an  oblong  piece  of  ground,  planted  with  potatoes, 
cabbages,  turnips,  beans,  peas,  carrots,  parsnips,  and  onions — all  for  prison  use.  This  piece 
q£  land  has  only  been  enclosed  four  years.  It  was  given  to  the  prison  for  as  much  more  land 
(m  tha  northern  aide  of  the  building  where  Yietoria  Street  now  stands.    There  was  a  gaidan 

*  During  the  week  preyious  to  our  inspection  of  tbii  prison,  two  mats  had  been  made,  and  19}  lbs.  of 
coir  used  in  the  manufacture  of  them,  the  cost  of  which  was  estimated  to  amount  to  4«.  SidL  at  2^.  per  lb. 
Thfi  mats  were' 6  feet  long  and  '4  feet  wide,  and  the  nett  earnings  of  the  boy  employed  #ere  computed  at  U. 


INKER  GATE  OP  THbt  CITV  PRISON,  B 


MTKRiua  or  THE  RiTCHET<  AT  THE  ciry 


HOUSE  OF  COEKEOTION,  TOTHILL  MELDS.  429 

there  of  ttie  same  kind  as  the  present.  About  eight  boys,  on  an  aTerage,  keep  this  in  order 
tiaoQ^oiat  the  year,  Ihongli  perhaps  there  are  a  few  more  employed  upon  it  in  iiie  spring. 

« I  think  the  garden  labimr,"  said  the  warder,  "very  good  for  the  prisoners;  but,  of 
course,  we  should  require  a  larger  tract  of  land  than  we  could  get  here,  in  the  heart  of  'West- 
minster, to  keep  all  our  prisoners  employed  at  such  work.  Some  of  the  boys  like  the  field 
labour,  and  some  do  not — ^they  object  to  the  heavy  work,  such  as  wheeling  and  digging." 
Here  we  found  five  boys  at  work,  in  company,  with  an  officer,  three  digging-in  manure,  a 
fourth  hoeing,  and  another  carrying  water.  The  value  of  the  whole  of  the  crops,  last  year, 
was  £25,  we  were  told ;  though  in  other  years  they  had  yielded  £30.*  Hence,  assuming 
ihe  gross  earnings  of  the  eight  boys  to  be  £20,  exclusive  of  the  rent,  we  have  about  £2  10«. 
per  annum  for  the  value  of  the  labour  of  each. 

"It's  very  very  bad  ground  here,"  said  the  warder,  "very  poor;  for  three  foot  down 
we  get  sand  itself;  and  that's  one  reason  why  we  can't  have  better  crops.  Another  reason 
is,  we  oan  take  only  the  short-sentence  boys,  for  we  are  afraid  of  employing  the  two  years' 
lads  out  here ;  so  as  soon  as  we  have  got  one  gang,  they  go,  and  we  have  to  look  about  fbr 
another.  Besides,  town  lads  prefer  oakum-picking ;  for  digging,  they  say,  galls  their  hands. 
lliat  boy  you  observe  working  alone  yonder,  goes  out  in  a  day  or  two,  or  I  shouldn't 
leave  him  l^  himself.    The  wall  is  low  you  see." 

This  o(mipletes  our  account  of  the  work  done  at  Tothill  Fields  prison. 

We  have  seen  that  there  are>  upon  an  average,  157  boys  employed  in  the  oakmn-room, 
sad  thai  these  earn  about  1S«.  each  per  annum. 

In  iiie  shoemakers'  shop,  there  are  g^ierally  13  employed;  and  these  gain,  according  to 
the  apparently  over-rated  estimates,  upwards  of  £6  a-year  each. 

In  the  tailors'  shop  there  are  26  boys  at  work,  each  calculated  to  earn  about  £3  perannimi. 

In  the  carpenters',  there  are  2  boys,  whose  labour  is  not  returned  as  of  any  value  at  all. 

In  the  oakum*Btore,  9  prisoners  are  employed,  earning  about  the  same  as  those  in  the 
large  work-room,  besides  one  engaged  at  matmaking,  whose  gains  are  estimated  at  is. 
a- week,  or  about  £10  a-year. 

And  in  the  garden,  8  lads  are  employed,  whose  average  earnings  seem  to  be  of  the  value 
of  about  £2  10«.  annually. 

Now  the  expense  of  maintaining  and  clothing,  &c.,  each  prisoner,  at  TothiU  Fields,  is 
about  £S  per  annum ;  so  that  there  is  a  heavy  loss  upon  all  these  forms  of  labour,  excepting 
that  of  shoemaking  and  matmaking ;  the  former  of  which,  at  least,  there  is  good  reason 
for  supposing  to  be  grossly  over-estimated,  f  This  makes  the  gross  value  of  216  boys'  labour 
amount  to  £374  17«.  6d,  per  annum,  or,  as  nearly  as  possible,  £1  14«.  Sd.  per  head.  The 
average  vedue  of  the  labour  of  the  prisoners  throughout  England  and  "Wales  is  £2  1#.  3d. 
(see  ante,  p.  350). 


0/  the  Boy-Pruonerff  SohooWoim  and  LArarf/. 

The  school-room  we  found  to  be  situate  opposite  to  Ihe  tailors'  shop,  and  it  had  the  true 
academical  fittings.    There  were  the  ordinary  long,  narrow  desks,  with  the  sloping  ledge, 

*  The  {KytatoM,  ssthnated  at  £4  per  ton,  wers  wor^  the  cabbages,  about  £7  tO«.,  at  4if.  per 

dooen;  the  tares  yielded  about  £2  lOt. ;  and  the  oxdons,  at  Zi,  the  baMhel,  were  valued  at  1S#. 

t  To  the  above  list  diould  be  added,  4  boys  employed  in  the  planted  coort-yard)  vhile  the  motrtng  is 
going  0%  and  one  of  whom  is  kept  continually  at  work  in  the  same  plaooi 


480  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

liardly  wider  thaa  that  of  a  pew,  and  pierced  at  intervals  with  teles,  for  ink-stands,  that 
reminded  one  of  the  miniature  flower-pots  for  dwarf  ^ants.  Then  the  walls  were  stack  all 
oyer  with  black  boards  covered  with  Scripture  texts,  as^  for  instance: — 

"l  WILL  AKISE,    AlfD   GO   TO   MY  FAT&EB, 
AND   SAT   UNTO   HIM,   PATHSB,    I  HAVE   SHTKED 
AGAINST   HEAVEN,   AND  BEEOBS  THEE." 

**  BOAST  NOT  THYSELF  OF  TO-MOBBOW, 
FOB  THOU  KNOWEST  NOT  WHAT  A  DAT 
MAT  BEING  FOBTH.'' 

On  the  opposite  wall  hung  some  long  strips  of  boards,  with  Roman  numerals  upon  them, 
and  the  alphabet  in  different  characters,  as  weU  as  the  Multiplioation  Table,  and  aheets  of 
lessons  in  large  type ;  whilst  against  the  end  of  the  room,  near  the  door,  were  large  maps, 
and  a  book-case,  with  the  warder's  high  desk  just  in  front  of  it. 

At  tbe  time  of  our  entry,  the  warder  schoolmaster  was  hearing  the  boys  read  hosa  the 
Bible,  the  class  standing  in  9  line  Qear  the  wall,  each  with  a  book  in  his  hand.  At  the 
opposite  end  of  the  school-room  was  another  detachment  of  lads,  stammering  over  one  of  the 
large  printed  sheets,  which  a  second  warder  held  in  his  hand.  Some  of  the  lads  read  quickly, 
and  others  boggled  sadly  over  the  words,  as,  for  instanoe — ''And  into  whatsoever  'ouse  ye 
enter," — (''Look  at  it,  boy !  don't  you  see  there's  an  h  to  the  word  ?"  oriee  the  wavder.) 
"And  into  whatsoever  house  ye  enter  l^t," — ('*  How  often  am  |  to  tell  you  that  there's  no 
such  word  as  fust?  Spell  it.")-^"f-i-r-s-t,"  proceeds  the  lad,  "  say  ye,  peaoe  be  unto  this 
'ouse," — ("  What !  'ouse  again?") — "  house,"  quickly  adds  the  youn^ter. 

The  next  verse  was  read  off  rapidly  and  glibly  enough^  by  one  who  seemed  but  half  the 
age  of  the  other. 

"  I  don't  think  you  can  manage  it-rcan  you,  !R^^ —  ?"  said  the  warder,  addzeeaing  a 
heavy-looking  Irish  lad,  whose  turn  it  was  to  proceed  with  the  reading. 

"  Go  on  next  boy,"  he  adds. 

"  But — ^I — say — unto — ^you — that — ^in — ^that-^-day — ^it — shall — ^be — ^more — ^tol-de-id" — 
("What!"  cries  the  warder,  "tolerable,  you  mean.") — "tol'ble — ^for-^Sodoin-«-*aad — 
Tomorrer." — ("  ^o^iorrah,  boy-^-cfrn't  you  see?") 

At  the  other  end  of  the  room  the  lads  were  making  even  greater  havoc  with  the  words; 
and  though  the  lesson  consisted  of  simple  monosyllables,  such  as  "  The  old  mai^  must 
be  led  by  the  hand,  or  he  may  fall  into  the  deep  pit,"  one-half  of  the  big  boya^  even  those  of 
sixteen,  were  unable  to  accomplish  the  task. 

The  warder  schoolmaster  informed  us  that  th^re  were  five  classies  every  day,  and  of  those 
who  attended  the  school  there  were  only  30  who  could  read  and  write  well,  wheireas  there  wers 
as  many  as  92  who  could  read  and  write  imperfectly,  and  94  who  could  hardly  read  at  all. 

"They  are  just  like  those  boys  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  who  are  spelling  words  of 
one  syllable.  Fifty  in  every  one  hundred  we  get  here,"  he  went  on,  "  don't  Imow  tiieir 
letters  when  they  come  in,  even  though  they  are  some  of  the  oldest  boys  that  can  be  sent  to  us. 
Each  prisoner  has  one  hour's  schooling  every  day.  Some  we  have  very  great  difficalty  in 
teaching.    Now  here's  one.     Come  here,  L  He's  thirteen  yeairs  old,  and  has  been  in 

the  prison  not  less  than  a  year  altogether,  and  yet  he  doesn't  know  more  than  his  letters  now. 
He  used  to  be  sent  to  us  for  begging,  but  latterly  he  has  come  in  for  thieving.  Se's  taken 
to  picking  pockets  within  this  last  year  or  so." 

"  But  it  is  only  here  and  there,"  the  warder  went  on,  "  that  we  meet  with  a  boy  who  is 
very  difficult  to  teach ;  they're  generally  like  other  boys.  I  have  be^i  *«>*"^"C  tibe  sehool 
here  for  the  last  thirteen  years,  and  about  2,200  come  under  mf  caro  in  the  eoone  of  the 
twelvemonth." 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTIOK,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  431 

•  ■  •  •  •        •         •         .  , 

The  schoolmaster  then  produced  some  of  the  boys'  copy-books,  and  pointed  to  them  with 

no  little  pride  as  he  said,  ''  That's  learnt  in  the  prison.    It's  not  bad,  is  it,  considering  he's 

only  been  at  it  for  three  months?" 

'fhe  prison  library,  the  warder  farther  informed  us,  consists  of  travels  and  yoyages;  <^ 
periodicids,  such  as  the  "  Leisure  hour ;"  of  the  "  History  of  England ;"  of  narratiTeB,  such 
as  '*  The  Loss  of  the  Kent ;"  of  small  works  on  Natural  History,  like  the  <'  Book  of  Birds ;" 
and  some  few  works  of  fiction,  such  as  **  Bobinson  Crusoe."  The  volumes  are  supplied,  he 
told  us,  by  the  chapel  clerk,  who  takes  down  the  boys'  names  and  gives  out  the  books  the 
next  day.  Prisoners  are  allowed  to  keep  the  books  they  have  to  read  as  long  as  they  please ; 
but  if  they  misconduct  themselves,  the  privilege  of  reading  is  stopped.  They  are  allowed 
to  amuse  themselves  with  tiieir  books  during  meal  times,  and  after  supper  for  about  half  an 
hour  before  being  locked  up  for  the  night,  at  six  o'clock.  In  the  summer,  they  can  read  in 
tiieir  cells,  as  well  as  in  the  dormitory ;  but  in  winter  they  cannot  do  so,  as  no  lights  are 
aUowed  them,  nor  is  the  prison  heated,  and,  consequently,  they  have  to  remain  from  six  in 
the  evening  imtil  half-past  six  in  the  morning  in  utter  darkness  and  idleness. 

This  appears  to  us  so  gross  a  defect,  as  to  be  a  positive  scandal  to  the  country  in  which  it 
IB  allowed  to  continue. 

Conc^noing  the  system  of  education,  we  have  nothing  further  to  ui^.  Those  who 
believe  that  boys  of  criminal  pr(^)enmties  are  to  be  made  a  thought  better  by  such  schooling, 
as  we  have  here  given  the  reader  a  sense  of,  must  be  as  deficient  in  their  knowledge  of 
human  nature  as  zealots  usually  are. 

Of  course,  the  teaching  of  reading  and  writing  is  a  negative  good ;  but  it  becomes  almost 
an  evil  when  people  get  to  believe  that  it  has  any  positive  moral  or  religious  efiects,  p0r  se, 
and  so  to  forgo,  as  is  invariably  the  case  in  our  prisons  of  the  present  day,  all  education  of 
the  feelings,  and  principles,  and  even  the  tastes,  of  those  confi,ned  within  them.  The  most 
valuable  of  all  dchooling  is  surely  that  of  the  heart,  and  the  next  that  of  the  hands, 
especially  for  the  poorer  classes,  who  are  mostly  the  inmates  of  our  jails;  and  to  educate 
either  of  these  there  is  hardly  any  attempt  made  in  our  prisons  of  the  present  day. 


Ifii- 

0/  ths  Bec&ptioH  and  Diteharge  of  PHsonsr^  at  TothUl  Fieldt. 

Of  the  appearance  and  demeanour  of  the  boys  at  chapel  there  is  Httlo  demanding  special 
notice ;  and  we  have  already  fully  described  the  service  at  PentonviUe,  as  well  as  that  at 
Ck)ldbath  Fields. 

Of  the  serving  of  the  breakfiEist  and  dinner,  again,  the  illustration  printed  in  this  work  will 
afford  a  better  idea  of  ihe  process  than  words  can  give.  We  may  say,  however,  that  at  the 
end  of  the  oakum-room,  where  the  serving  takes  place,  a  warder  stands,  with  a  large  white 
apron  half  covering  his  uniform,  and  with  a  ladle  in  his  hand.  Before  Mm,  raised  on  a 
bench,  are  two  large  tubs,  such  as  are  used  for  washing;  one  of  these  is  white  within 
with  the  thick  gruel,  and  the  other  brown  with  the  cocoa  it  contains.  On  another  bench 
by  his  side  is  a  large  basket  full  of  small  loaves,  like  puny  half-quarterns.  Near  him 
is  a  boy,  stationed  by  a  large  basket  of  tins,  and  close  at  hand^  on  a  mat|  is  a  heap  of  metal 
spoons. 

"  Come  on,  front  row,"  cries  the  warder;  and  immediately  the  prisoners  on  the  fcr^nost 
bench  come  filing  past  the  "long  lights,"  each  lad  picking  a  spoon  firom  the  mat  as  he  goes 
by.     Then  the  lad  stationed  by  the  tin  basket  hands  them,  one  by  one,  a  pannikin,  and, 


432 


THE  GBEAT  WOBXD  OF  LONDON. 


eaoh  boy  carrying  this  to  the  tubs,  gets  it  filled  either  with  a  pint^  ox  half  a  pint  of  gmeli 
according  as  he  be  merely  a  vagrant,  and  belong  to  the  second  or  third  class;  or  a  pint  of  cocoai 
if  he  be  a  felon,  and  lucky  enough  to  rank  as  a  first-class  oriniinal.  The  prisoner  reoeives, 
at  the  same  time,  a  loaf  of  bread,  which  is  only  5}  oz.  in  weight,  if  his  offence  be  (tf  the 
the  lightest  oharacter ;  but  one  of  6|  oz.,  if  of  a  graver  nature. 

The  dinner  is  served  in  the  same  manner,  with  the  exception  that  the  tabs  then  aze 
filled  not  only  with  gruel  for  the  more  innocent,  though  less  fftvoured,  third*class  piisonen, 
but  sometimes  with  soup,  of  which  the  first  and  second  class  get  a  pint,  whilst  tha  sQup  is 
oooasionaUy  displaced  for  tins  of  meat  and  potatoes  for  the  more  profligate  and  bptter«treated 
portion  of  the  prisoners^ 

On  one  of  the  days  of  our  inspection  of  this  prison,  we  were  informed  that  three  firesh 
piisoners  had  just  arrived,  and  we  accordingly  hastened  to  the  reoeption-room>  to  be  present 
at  the  process  of  admission.  The  receptixm-waids  at  Tothill  Fields  are  situate  in  thai  part 
of  the  building  which  hcea  Francis  Street,  fi>rming  part  of  the  offices  that  are  ranged  round 
the  planted  court-yard. 

Here  we  found  two  wretched  shoeless  and  ragged  creatures,  and  one  more  deooitly  dad 
youth,  his  darned  clothes  telling  that,  at  least,  he  had  a  mother  who  took  some  little  care  of 
him.  The.  latter  boy,  we  were  told,  had  just  been  sent  ftom  the  Sessions;  he  was  thirteen 
years  of  age,  and  had  got  two  years'  imprisonment  for  stealing  brass.  This  heavy  sentence  had 
been  passed  upon  the  lad  willi  the  view  of  getting  him  sent  to  some  refbnnatory  institatioa. 
His  father  was  dead,  we  were  told,  and  his  mother  had  a  large  feunily  of  eight  children,  said 
our  informant.  The  warder,  who  had  seen  her,  added  that  she  appeared  a  very  deoent  sort 
of  woman,  end  gave  her  boy  excellent  instruction  and  advice.  She  was  an  Indiap-rabber 
weaver,  and  earned  but  little,  though  she  had  many  mouths  to  feed— ^her  youngeet  diild 
being  only  four  years  of  age. 

The  other  boys  -were  of  a  very  different  stamp.  One  oi  these, who  was  but  thirteon  years 
old,  and  was  habited  in  an  old  coat  and  plaid  waistooati  with  a  red  cotton  handksrehScf 
about  his  neck,  had  been  in  the  pris(m  three  times  before-^indeed,  it  was  only  eight  w«aks 
since  he  had  quitted  it,  and  he  had  had  three  weeks'  imprisonment  then.   His  present  sentence 

*  yfe  append  the  scale  of  the  proTuiona  famished  to  the  different  classes  of  boy-priaonen  :-— 

PIBT  TABLK-^HOirSB  OF  COEBECTION  AT  'WE8TlfIM8TBB — 1856. 


DATS. 


Monday  . 
Tueiday  . 
WediMKlsy 
Thoradaj  . 
n-i<ki7  .  • 
Saturday  • 
Sondny.   . 

Total  . 


Fnar  Cl.V88.— All  Priwnen  under  17  years 
of  age.  whose  terms  of  Imprisonment 
exceed  8  months. 


BreaJ^att. 


JHrnur. 


Sufper. 


I 


Ox. 

« 

6 

61 

G 

6 

6 

6 


46| 


Oi. 

6 

«>* 
6 


I 

n 
& 


18 


Os. 

8 

.*. 
8 

•  •• 

8 


24 


I 


u 

o 


Pint  Pint 

1 
•>• 

1 


1 


Ox. 

6 

6 

6 

6 

^\ 
6 


Plni 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


46| 


I 


SscoKD  Class.— All  Prisoners  nnder  17 
years  of  age,  whose  terms  of  Imprison- 
ment are  more  than  14  days  and  not 
exoeoding  8  months. 


BrtcJtfott. 


1 


401 


e 

o 

Pint 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
1 


JNlUMT. 


Ox. 

n 

n 


i 


461 


Ox. 


6 


6 


I 

& 


12 


Ox. 


8 


8 


16 


Pi 

I 


Pint 
1 


Pint 

... 
1 
1 


Bupptr, 


i 


Ox. 

6 

6 

e 

6 
6 
6 
6 


»4 

s 

o 


Tbibd  Class All  Prison- 

ers  under  17  ycare  of  age, 
whose  terms  of  Imprison^ 
do  not  eaceeed  14  dnya. 


\Brtaltfmtt)  JHmmtr 


1 

m 


S  ;46{ 


Pint 


■ 


«i 


I 


Os. 


PlBt'Oa. 


87i 


■ 

1 


I 


Plat 


i  i  £ 

A      O 


Ob. 


\ 


H  m 


im]  Si 


The  ingredients  forming  the  aWre  dietaiy  to  be  in  the  following  proportions  :<— For  cfnsy  hsndxcd  piiiftB» 
3  lbs.  2  02.  of  Cocoa,  8  lbs.  of  molasses,  or  4  lbs.  of  i^w  sugar,  and  12^  pints  of  milk ;  Gruel,  9  lbs.  oC  oal- 
meal,  and  1  lb.  of  saU;  Soup,  for  eteiy  hiudied  pints,  2  oz-heads,  3  lbs.  of  barley,  Slbs.  of  peas,  3  Iba.  of  rice, 
.1  lb.  of  salt,  and  2  oz.  of  pepper,  with  a  due  proportion  of  yegetables ;  beef  and  mutton  alternate  fortiii|^ts 
in  the  winter  months,  y'lz.,  from  October  to  March,  and  beef  only  from  April  to  September,  inclosiT?.  Tlie 
meat  diets  are  issued  cold. 


HOUSE  OF  COKREOnON,  TOTHILL  IIEIDS.  48d 

waB  nx  weekly  for  piokiiig  ladiee'  podcab.    He  stood  mutbedied,  balf  ddTering,  without 
•hoes.    **  Theroy  stand  on  the  mat,  hoj"  said  the  oiEoer,  kindlj,  to  him. 

The  other,  who  was  dressed  in  a  hattonless  Ozonisn  ooat,  pinned  close  np  to  the  neck» 
find  with  a  crimson  silk  K^^^^^**'^^^^  about  his  throat,  had  the  peculiar  side-lo(te 
indieatiTB  of  the  London  thief.  He,  too,  was  an  old  frequenter  of  tiie  prison,  and  had  been 
there  about  a  jear  ago.  "  Tye  been  thienng  ever  since  I  was  here  before,"  he  said,  in 
answer  to  our  questions.  "  Motiier  sella  things  in  the  street.  I  amt  got  no  fother-— noTer 
had  one,  that  I  know  on.  Fye  done  often  two  pockets  a-day  suioe  Tre  been  out  It 
wouldn't  have  lasted  as  long  tm  it  has,  if  Td  ha'  done  that  number  all  Ihe  year  round. 
Sometimee  I  do  odd  jobs  for  mother,  do  you  see;  and  when  I'm  not  at  work  for  her,  I  goes 
pickpocketing  on  my  own  hook." 

l%e  oonyersatioiL  was  stopped  by  the  warder  crying,  ^'Gome  this  way,  boys!"  and 
straightway  the  two  shoeless,  experienced,  and  shameless  young  thieyes,  passed  on  grinning 
into  the  examination-room,  whilst  the  more  decent  boy,  caught  in  his  first  offence,  followed 
sobbing  in  Htm  wake. 

** Haye  you  got  anything  in  your  pocketB?"  inquires  the  officer.  **  You'd  better  say; 
for  you  will  be  punished  if  any  article  is  found  upon  you  afterwards." 

''  I'ye  got  a  loaf,  please,  sir,"  says  the  least  deprayed  of  the  lads,  as  he  takes  a  piece  of 
bfead  from  his  pocket* 

**  That's  a  House  of  Detention  loaf,  aint  it?"  asked  the  warder,  as  his  expmenced  eye 
reeogniEes  the  shape  and  make.  '*  "Well,  you  can  keep  that,"  he  adds.  *'  Now,  go  in  there 
and  take  off  your  clothes,  and  mind  you  wash  yourself  thoroughly  with  tiie  soap.  Do  you 
hear?"  he  says,  as  he  leads  the  boys  to  a  kind  of  box-lobby,  and  opening  tiie  doors  to  the 
baths,  which  seem  like  small  cisterns  sunk  in  the  floor,  he  bids  them  go  in,  and  be  as  qnick 
about  washing  themselyes  as  they  can. 

Outside  here  is  a  boy-prisoner  sortrng  suits  of  prison  clothes  on  tiie  ground,  from  a 
basket,  and  as  soon  as  one  suit  is  complete,  he  throsts  it  into  one  of  the  batii-rooms,  for  the 
use  of  the  new-comer  within. 

''  They  deep  in  the  reception-room  the  first  night,"  says  the  warder,  "  and  haye  their 
supper  and  breakfast  in  the  examination-room ;"  a(id,  as  he  says  the  words,  we  can  hear  the 
boys  breathing  hard  and  spluttering,  while  tiiey  splash  the  water  about  in  the  adjacent  baths. 

In  an  adjoining  room,  hanging  up  against  the  wall,  are  seyeral  handcuffb  on  pegs^  and 
tnstruments  that  appear  like  leathern  bottles,  but  which,  we  are  informed,  are  muffles, 
which  were  sent  from  Hanwell  some  years  ago,  when  some  lunatic  prisoners  were  giyen  to 
tearing  up  their  dotiies.  These  muffles  are  attached  to  a  strap,  which  goes  round  the  waist ; 
sometimes  they  are  applied  to  women  who  destroy  their  garments. 

In  a  fow  minutes  the  boys  made  their  appearance  again  in  the  prison  dress,  and  those 
who  were  shoeless  before  came  out  now  comfortably  shod.  They  had  all  the  look  of  old 
jail-birds ;  for,  in  the  suit  of  gray,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  distinguish  the  more  decent 
boy  fi*om  the  others. 

One  of  the  habitual  young  thieyes  said,  with  a  smile,  as  he  pointed  to  the  less  experienced 
lad,  ''He's  got  on  his  own  boots,  please,  sir ;  and  his  own  hankycher,  too,  instead  of  the  stock." 

The  wt^er  locks  the  boys  up  in  the  bath-rooms,  and  telling  tiie  lads  he's  going  to  get 
them  some  soup  or  gruel  from  the  kitchen,  walks  off  in  that  direction,  informing  us,  by  the 
way,  that  the  new-comers  will  haye  te  remain  till  the  surgeon  sees  them  on  the  morrow, 
and  passes  them  up  to  their  room.  ''The  boys  mostiy  prefer  being  in  the  dormitory,"  he 
adds.     "  Yery  few,  indeed,  will  yolunteer  for  the  ceUs." 

These  dormitories  are  not  only  at  yariance  with  the  principles  of  the  silent  associated 
system,  upon  which  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction  is  said  to  be  conducted,  and  which 
requires,  in  its  integrity,  that  the  prisoners,  though  working  in  company  by  day,  should 
be  proyided  each  with  a  separate  sleeping  apartment  by  night,  but  they  reduce  the 


484  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

difoipline  of  the  pziBon  to  that  state  ot  promiscuotts  herdiag  of  the  priBonan  which  was  the 
great  vice  of  the  prison  arrangementd  of  former  times,  and  thut  at  the  rery  period  when  there 
is  lees  superrision  on  the  part  of  the  officers  Ihan  at  any  hour  of  the  day.  Indeed  those 
prisons,  where  the  inmates  are  congregated  in  considerable  nnmbers  in  ha^  dormitories  hy 
night,  possess  all  the  objectionable  features  of  the  Hulks*  And  the  boys'  prison  at  Totliiil 
fields,  with  its  common  aleeping^rooms,  where  some  80  odd  lads. are  crowded  togetlier, 
with  their  beds  lying  on  the  ground  as  close  as  the  hammocks  swing  between  the  daeks 
of  the  convict  ships  at  Woolwich,  is  a  place  that  is  about  upon  a  par  witii  the  pviaon 
regulations  in  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  and  a  state  of  things  that  should  not  be 
allowed  to  ejist  for  a. single  day  in  this  country,  with  our  present  knowledge  of  the  erik  of 
such  association.  In  this  establishment,  there  is  only  one  such  dormitory,  and  tliis  is 
lituate  on  the  uppe:^  floor  of  the  prison  3  and  4,  being  one  large  room  that  stretches  the 
entire  length  and  width  of  the  building.  In  this  place,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  no  leas 
than.  87  boys  had  slept  the  night  before.  The  room  contains  60  iron  bedsteads,  26  of  whUi 
are  ranged  on  either  side  of  it,  whilst  the  remaining  beds  are  formed  by  strewing  Uto 
requisite  number  of  mattresses  along  the  boards.  The  dormitbry  is  80  feet*long,  and  33  feet 
wide,  so  that,  alio  wing,  each  of  the  26  bedsteads  to  be  3  feet  wide,  it  is  evident  that  there 
would  not  be  even  one  indi  of  space  between  it  and  the  beds  on  either  side  of  it;  while,  if 
we  reckon  the  mattresses  at  5  feet  long,  it  is  equally  plain  that,  from  tjie  width  of  the  opart- 
jnent^  again,  there  can  be  a  gangway  of  only  12  feet  in  breadth  between  the  rows»  ev«n  if  we 
suppose  the  double  line  on  either  side  to  be  immediately  head  to  foot.  Moreover,  we  have 
before  stated,  scientific  authorities  have  agreed  that,  even  where  perfect  ventilation  ezistsy  a 
cell  having  a  capacity  of  upwards  of  900  cubic  feet  is  necessary  for  the  maintenanee  of  the 
perfect  health  of  each  prisoner  confined  in  it.  But  the  dormitory  to  which  wo  le&r  is 
only  12  feet  high,  and  therefore  contains  not  quite  40,000  cubic  feet,  thus  allowing  hot 
little  more  than  350  cubic  feet  of  air  for  each  prisoner  to  breathe  during  the  night*  It  is 
true  there  is  a  skylight  of  pierced  glass  in  ihe  roof,  but  it  must  be  also  remembered  that 
these  apertures  can  only  remove  the  upper  stratum  of  the  atmosphere  within  the  i^iartmeat, 
and  that  therefore  the  prisoners  must  remain  immersed  for  many  hours  in  a  noxious  siediiim 
of  their  own  exhalations ;  and  if  a  small  aperture  in  the  upper  port  of  the  room  be  sufficient 
to  ensure  perfect  ventilation,  it  is  obvious  that  such  large  and  expensive  apparatus  as  veinti* 
lating  shafts  and  flues  would  not  be  applied  to  every  new  building. 

In  this  dormitory  there  are  two  officers  keeping  watch  during  the  night.  Nevertheless, 
as  the  boys  are  locked  up  in  it  as  early  as  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  not  liberated  till 
half -past  six  in  the  morning,  and  left  there,  too,  without  any  occupation  to  divert  their 
minds  from  intercourse,  it  is  manifest  tliat,  even  with  tenfold  the  supervision,  all  kinds  of 
moral  pollution  must  go  on  with  the  prisoners.  Indeed,  the  mind  is .  naturally  led  to  ask« 
what  can  be  the  use  of  keeping  lads  silent  throughout  the  day,  and  with  warders  all  around 
them,  placed  in  elevated  situations,  so  as  to  detect  and  prevent  the  slightest  communication 
either  by  look  or  by  gesture,  and  yet  to  place  the  very  same  young  urchins  at  night  in.  the 
best  possible  position  for  intercommunication,  and  with  not  one  tithe  of  the  supervision 
of  the  day-time. 

We  now  come  to  the  last  subject  we  have  to  touch  upon  in  connection  with  the  boys* 
prison  at  Tothill  Fields.  We  have  already  spoken  of  the  number  of  ptuushments,  md 
shown  that  they  are  far  below  the  average  number  of  all  England  and  Wales — a  &ct  which, 
we  repeat,  greatly  redounds  to  the  honour  of  all  connected  with  this  prison.  We  ourselves 
can  bear  witness  to  the  order  and  regularity  maintained,  at  the  period  of  our  visit,  hy 
the  young  profligates  confined  here.  And  those  prison  authorities  are  assuredly  the  heA 
who  can  attain  this  end  with  the  infliction  of  the  least  possible  physical  suffering.  Nor 
should  we  forget,  in  our  appreciation  of  this  part  of  the  economy  of  the  Westminster  House 
of  Correction,  the  many  inducements  that  there  are  to  apply  a  greater  amount  of  ooerciQiL  to 


f 


IHTEEIOE  OF  THE  HOUSE  OF  DETENTION,  CLBRKENWELL, 

(AS  IT  APPEABS  AT  THE  TDtE  07  THE  TUITS  07  TUB  PKUOIUU'  nUEKDS). 


HOUSE  OF  COEEEOTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  486 

boys  rather  than  to  men,  so  that  the  goyenunent  of  this  prison  appears  to  be  caixied  on  upon 
as  mild  and  considerate  a  plan  as  any  in  the  kingdom.  The  reports  seemed  certainly  far 
fiiom  being  heayy  on  any  of  the  days  that  we  were  at  the  prison,  and  the  majority  were  for 
the  boyish  tricks  of  laughing,  talking,  and  being  disorderly,  whilst  two  were  for  talking  and 
shouting  in  their  cells — an  offence  which  is  due  mainly  to  the  circumstance  of  the  boys  being 
locked  up  as  early  as  six,  and  not  allowed  any  light  even  to  read  by  in  the  winter  evenings, 
so  iha,t  aa  there  is  only  one  warder  patrolling  the  prison  throughout  the  night,  it  is  obyious 
that  the  lads,  being  aware  of  the  opportunities  that  they  have  for  intercourse,  naturally  resort 
to  that  as  the  means  of  whiling  away  the  terrible  tedium  of  solitude  and  darkness.  Indeed, 
one  of  the  authorities  assured  us,  that  it  was  impossible  to  stop  the  communication  among 
the  youngsters,  owing  to  this  absurd  and  wicked  regulation. 

"Kow  the  man's  calling  the  discharges  out,"  said  our  official  guide,  directing  our 
attention  to  one  of  the  warders,  who  had  entered  the  oakum-room  with  a  slate  in  his  hand, 
and  firom  which  he  was  reading  off  the  names  of  certain  prisoners. 

"  James  C ,"  said  the  officer;  "William  W ,  Thomas  D ,  John  D ," 

&c. ;  and  as  the  warder  repeated  the  names,  the  boys  made  answer,  and  coming  out  from 
their  places,  arranged  themselves  ip,  a  row  beside  the  man.  Then  the  warder  asked  each 
boy  what  was  his  name,  and  how  long  he  had  been  in  the  prison,  whilst,  as  the  lad  replied, 
he  looked  at  the  slate  to  see  if  the  answer  agreed  with  the  particulars  set  against  the  name. 
After  this,  the  officer  led  the  boys  towards  the  store-room,  where  they  were  furnished  with 
their  own  clothes,  and  soon  conducted  down  to  the  gate,  where  they  were  drawn  up  within 
the  porch,  immediately  outside  the  governor's  office. 

To  this  part  of  the  building  we  directed  our  steps,  when  we  heard  that  all  was  ready 
for  carrying  out  the  prooess.  Here  we  found  some  half-dozen  lads,  who  had  shed  the 
priBom  garh,  and  w6re  habited  in  their  own  rags  and  tatters.  But  half  an  hour  before,  they 
were  warmly  and  comfortably  .dad,  and  now  many  of  them  stood  shivering  in  their  scanty 
and  rent  apparel.  One  was  without  a  jacket,  and  another  with  his  coat  pinned  up,  so  as  to 
hide  the  want  of  a  waistcoat. 

**  William  G "  was  called  out  within,  and  the  warder  outside  the  office  door,  echoing 

the  name,  told  the  boy  who  answered  to  it  to  step  inside.  He  was  placed  in  a  small  passage 
in  front  of  a  window  looking  into  the  office,  where  stood  the  derk  dose  against  a  desk  on 
the  other  side. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  here  before  ?"  said  the  derk.    "  Ifo,"  was  the  answer. 

**  Belongs  to  MiUbank,"  said  one  of  the  warders ;  "  and  some  friend  is  here  for  him." 

**  Let  >i^Tn  step  in,"  replied  the  derk.  The  friend  had  no  sooner  made  his  appearance, 
than  file  derk  inquired,  '*  Who  are  you  ?" 

**  His  brother,"  was  the  answer. 

**  The  magistrates  have  given  this  boy  a  shilling,  and  they  hope  they'll  never  see  him 
here  again,  so  do  you  take  care  of  him."  And  with  this  admonition,  and  the  money,  the 
couple  withdrew. 

"  James  H ^"  was  next  shouted  out,  whereupon  a  little  boy  made  his  appearance 

outside  the  office  window,  his  head  scarody  readiing  above  the  sill. 

**  You've  been  in  for  robbing  your  mother,  eh  ?  What  a  horrible  fellow  you  must  be  to 
do  that !  Why  must  you  go  plundering  her,  of  aU  persons  in  the  world  ?  The  next  boy  to 
you  has  been  flogged,  and  that  will  be  your  fate  if  ever  you  come  here  again,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Anybody  for  this  boy  ?"  the  derk  inquired  of  the  attendant  warder. 

"  Nobody  for  him,  sir,"  was  the  reply. 

'^  Where  does  your  mother  live  ?"  demanded  the  derk.  # 

•'InG Street,  St.  Luke's,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  smile  on  his  lip,  and  utterly 

unaffected  by  what  had  been  said  to  him. 
32* 


436  THE  GREAT  VOBU)  OP  LONDON. 

"  He's  been  here  often  before,"  the  governor  observed  to  na.    "  He'g  a  bad  boy,  indeed.''  ' 

"  Henry  N **  was  the  next  boy  called  for. 

''  How  long  have  yon  been  here  ?''  the  clerk  began  with  this  one. 

"  Six  weeks,  sir." 

"  And  how  often  before  ?" 

"  Three  times  here,  and  twice  in  the  Honse  of  Detention." 

"  Ay,  we're  getting  a  little  of  it  ont.     Nobody  for  this  boy,  I  suppose,"  he  added. 

"  No,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

'*  Thomas  W ^"  was  then  called. 

"  liVhat  time  have  you  been  here  ?" 

'*  Ten  days,  please,  sir,"  said  a  small  boy,  in  a  whining  voioe,  while  the  derk  stretched 
his  head  forward  out  of  the  window  to  get  a  peep  at  him. 

"  And  how  often  before  ?" 

'*  Six  times,  please,  sir,"  was  the  answer  given,  in  the  same  whining  tone. 

'•  Now,  thafs  very  pretty  for  a  boy  of  your  age — ^isn't  it  ?  And  how  came  you  to  break 
sixty  panes  of  glass  ?  for  that's  the  offence  you  were  charged  with." 

"  I  did  it  along  with  other  boys,  sir — ^heaving  stones." 

''A  set  of  mischievous  young  urchins!"  the  clerk  exclaimed.  ''"Was  it  an  empty 
house  ?"  he  asked. 

'*  No,  please,  sir — ^it  was  an  old  factory ;  and  there  was  about  a  hundred  panes  broken 
before,  so  the  boys  was  trying  to  smash  the  rest  on  them." 

"Anybody  there  for  this  boy,  of  the  name  of  Thomas  V P" 

"No,  sir,  nobody,"  the  warder  replied.* 

*  Preyioufl  to  the  discliarge  of  any  priaoner,  the  following  blank  form  of  letter  is  filled  op  tad  lent  to 
tbe  paxents  or  frienda  of  the  lad,  in  order  that  they  may  be  at  the  gate,  at  the  appointed  time,  to  take  chazfe 
of  him:— 

«  E0U8B  OP  OOHRBOnON,  TOTHILL  PIXLDB,  WESTKXNBTBE. 

.  '*  ^  of 186 -if  aefuamitd  thai 


wiU  U  duchargtd  from  ihi  dbo9$prU(m  en neaUy  at (f  clock  m  tka. 

\Dhm  it  it  rcqueitcd  thai ^^friandc  wiU  attond  to  rcccioc 


It  wonld  not  be  fair  to  dose  thii  article  without  printiog  a  copy  of  the  roles  of  the  piiaon,  the 
aa  we  have  done  with  othera : — 

'*  RULES  RBLATXNO  TO  THB  TBBATMBMT  AKD  CONDVCT  OF  THB  PBlSOmmS,  AS  ClUtTiyUU)  BT  HBR  XATBRVi 

SaOBJBTAIlT  OF  STATE,  AS  PaOPBB  TO  BB  BNTOBOBD. 

"  1.  All  priaonera  are  on  admiaaion  to  be  plaoed  in  a  reception-cell.  To  be  atrictly  searched.  AH  koiTea» 
aharp  inatrumenta,  dangeroua  weapona,  or  articlea  calculated  to  facilitate  eaoape,  to  be  taken  from  them ;  all 
money  and  other  effeota  brought  in  with  them,  or  aubaequently  aent  in  for  their  uae  and  benefit,  to  be  takea 
care  of.    Such  money  and  effecta  to  be  entered  in  the  priaonera*  property  book. 

**  2.  Every  priaoner  ia  to  be  examined  by  the  aurgeon  before  he  be  paaaed  into  the  proper  ward.    Aad  to 
be  deanaed  in  a  warm  or  cold  bath,  and  have  hia  hair  cut,  aa  the  aurgeon  may  direct ;  he  ia  not  to  be 
and  bathed  in  the  preaence  of  any  other  priaoner. 

*^  3.  The  wearing  apparel  of  every  priaoner  to  be  fumigated  and  purified,  if  requiaite ;  and,  if 
may  be  burned.  If  the  wearing  apparel  of  priaonera  before  trial  be  inaufBcient,  or  neoaeaaxy  to  be  paeeetTcd 
for  the  trial,  auch  priaonera  may  be  fumiahed  with  a  plain  aoit  of  coarse  doth.  In  the  caae  of  oooTieted 
priaonera,  their  wearing  apparel  to  be  taken  charge  ol^  and  they  provided  with  a  prison  dreaa.  No  prieaner, 
nnleaa  under  conviction  for  fdony,  to  be  clothed  in  a  party-coloured  dreaa. 

**  4.  Male  priaonera  to  be  ahaved  at  least  once  a-week ;  and  convicted  priaonera  to  have  their  hair  cot  at 
leaat  once  a-n^th. 

"  5.  Convflknt  placea  to  be  provided  with  water,  aoap,  towela,  and  eomba.  And  every  pcvooer  to 
be  required  to  waah  daily ;  all  priaonera,  if  the  aurgeon  ao  advisee,  to  be  plaoed  in  a  bath  at  leaat  oa^a 
a  month. 

**  6.  Every  priaoner  to  be  provided  with  a  aeparate  bed  or  hammock,  either  in  a  aeparate  eell,  or  in  a  odl 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  437 

"  Very  well,  let  them  all  go." 

The  moment  afterwards,  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  outer  gate  opened  the  door,  and  the 
liberated  boys  were  once  more  at  large  in  the  world. 

with  not  Um  than  two  other  male  priwrnera.    To  be  proTided  with  a  hair,  flock,  or  straw  mattreaa,  two 
bUnketa,  and  a  corerlid. 

"  7.  Every  prisoner  to  be  allowed  aa  much  air  and  exeroiae  aa  shall  be  recommended  by  the  surgeon. 

"8.  Every  prisoner  who  does  not  maintain  himaelf  to  be  allowed  a  sufficient  quantity  of  plain  and  whole- 
some food,  according  to  the  dietariea  provided  for  each  class  of  prisoners.  A  prisoner  may  require  his  food 
to  be  weighed  or  measured,  and  shall  not  thereby  be  subjected  to  any  privation  or  inconvenience. 

**  9.  No  spirits,  wine,  beer,  cider,  or  other  fermented  liquor,  shall  be  admitted  for  the  use  of  any  prisoner 
without  a  written  order  of  the  surgeon. 

**  10.  No  tobacco  to  be  admitted  for  the  use  of  any  prisoner,  except  by  written  order  of  the  surgeon. 

"  11.  No  prisoner  to  be  permitted  to  see  any  visitor  out  of  Uie  place  appropriated  for  that  purpose,  except 
in  special  caaea  under  a  written  order  signed  by  a  visiting  Justice ;  and,  in  the  case  of  prisoners  seriously  ill, 
by  a  written  order  of  the  governor  and  surgeon.  Male  prisoners  to  be  visited  in  the  presence  of  the  governor 
or  subordinate  officer.    This  rule  is  not  to  extend  to  prisoners  when  they  see  their  legal  advisers. 

*'  12.  No  person  shall  be  admitted  to  visit  a  prisoner  on  a  Sunday,  except  in  special  cases  by  a  written 
order  of  a  visiting  justice ;  and  in  no  case  shall  a  prisoner  under  punishment  for  offences  committed  within 
the  priaon,  or  in  solitary  confinement  under  sentence  of  any  court,  be  permitted  to  receive  any  visits  from  friends 
without  an  cxprosa  order  in  writing  from  a  viaiting  justice,  statiDg  the  grounds  on  which  such  order  is  given. 

''18.  Persons  may  be  permitted  by  order  of  a  viaiting  justice,  or  by  the  governor,  to  visit  at  any  reason- 
able hour  prisoners  confined  for  non-payment  of  penalties  or  for  want  of  sureties,  for  the  purpose  of  making 
arrangementa  for  the  payment  of  the  penalty  or  the  finding  of  sureties. 

"  14.  Any  near  relation  or  friend  may  be  allowed  to  see  a  priaoner  dangerously  ill,  under  an  order  in 
writing  dgned  by  the  governor  and  surgeon. 

"  15.  Any  prisoner  of  a  religious  persuasion  differing  from  that  of  the  Established  Church  may,  on 
request  to  the  governor,  be  viaited  by  a  minister  of  his  persuasion  on  Stmdays,  or  any  other  days,  at  such 
reasonable  hours  as  may  not  inteifere  with  the  good  ordor  of  the  priaon.  Any  books  which  such  ministers 
may  wish  to  supply  to  the  prisonera  of  their  persuasion  must  be  first  submitted  to  a  visiting  justice 
&r  approval. 

"  16.  No  prisoner  who  is  a  Jew  or  Mahometan  to  be  compelled  to  labour  on  hia  sabbath. 

"  17.  No  prisoner  to  be  allowed  to  ceoeive  or  send  any  letter  except  from  or  to  a  visiting  justice,  without 
previooa  inspection  by  the  governor. 

"  18.  No  prisoner  to  receive  or  send  any  parcel,  or  receive  any  food,  cbthing,  bedding,  or  other  articles, 
without  previoua  inapection. 

'*  19.  Officera  on  duty  to  attend  to  complaints  of  prisoners,  and  report  the  same  to  the  governor. 

'*  20.  A  prisoner  complaining  of  illness,  to  be  reported  without  delay  to  the  surgeon ;  and  not  to  be 
compelled  to  labour  until  after  the  surgeon  has  seen  him. 

**  21 .  No  priaoner  not  sentenced  to  hard  labour  to  be  employed  on  the  tread-wheel,  either  with  or  without 
hiioonaent. 

"  22.  No  prisoner  to  be  employed  as  warder,  aasistant-warder,  wardsman,  yardsman,  overseer,  monitor, 
Bchodhnaster,  or  in  the  discipline  of  the  prison,  or  in  the  service  of  any  officer  hereof,  or  in  the  service  or 
instruction  of  any  other  prisoner. 

*'  23.  All  prisoners  to  attend  Divine  service,  unless  prevented  by  illness,  or  permitted  to  be  absent. 

"  24.  Provision  to  be  made  for  the  instruction  of  prisoners  in  reading  and  writing,  under  the  direction 
of  the  viaiting  justices. 

"  25.  Prisoners  of  the  Establiahed  Church  shall  be  provided  with  books  and  tracta  of  religious,  moral, 
and  uaefnl  instruction,  under  the  direction  of  the  chaplain ;  and  prisoners  of  persuasions  differing  from  the 
Established  Church,  under  the  direction  of  the  visiting  justices.  Bach  prisoner  who  can  read  shall  be 
furnished  with  a  Bible  and  Common  Prayer  Book  during  Divine  service ;  and  a  Bible  and  Common  Prayer 
Book  placed  in  each  day-room,  and  (during  the  sunmier  months)  in  each  sleeping  cell. 

*'26.  Prisoners  going  to  work,  to  chapel,  to  the  airing-yards,  or  to  any  other  part  of  the  priaon,  to  be 
attended  by  one  or  more  officers ;  and  silence  maintained. 

**27.  Prisoners  to  obey  the  rules  of  the  prison,  and  the  lawful  orders  of  the  governor  and  other  offioens 
and  not  to  treat  with  disrespect  any  of  the  officera  or  servants  of  the  prison  or  any  person  therein.  They 
are  not  to  be  idle  or  negligent  in  their  work ;  they  are  not  to  be  guilty  of  swearing,  or  of  indecent  or 
disorderly  conduct ;  nor  to  commit  any  kind  of  nuisance,  nor  wilfully  damage  any  bedding,  any  part  of  the 
priaon,  or  any  article  of  property  therein. 

**  28.  Silence,  nigjit  and  day,  must  be  observed,  any  breach  of  it  to  be  puniahed  by  the  stoppage  of  a 


438  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  lad  whose  brother  had  come  to  meet  him  had  two  others  ontside,  dressed  in  i^istiaii 
jackets  and  of  no  very  respectable  appearance,  waiting  to  welcome  him. 

The  other  boys  looked  round  about  to  see  if  they  could  spy  any  friend  of  theim  laitermg 
in  the  neighbourhood.    None  was  to  be  seen. 

Of  aU  the  young  creatures  discharged  that  morning,  not  a  father,  nor  a  mother,  nor  even  « 
grown  and  decent  fHend,  was  there  to  receive  them/ 

We  stood  at  the  prison  door,  watching  the  wretched,  friendleis  ontoasts  torn  ^be  oonier, 
and  saw  the  whole  of  them  go  off  in  a  gang,  in  company  with  the  Buspicious-lookmg  yontliB 
in  fustian  jackets,  who  had  come  to  welcome  the  one  whose  brother  alone  had  thought  Mm 
worth  the  fetching. 

We  could  not  help  speculating  upon  the  impending  fate  of  these  dischiuged  children,  and 
of  the  shocking  heartlessness  of  the  State  which  can  forget  its  duties  as  a  father  to  tiiem. 

Where  were  they  to  go  ?  Who  was  there  to  counsel  and  protect  them  ?  The  only  heme 
that  was  open  to  receire  them  was  the  thieves'  lodging-house,  and  the  only  friends  and 
advisers  they  could  find  in  the  world,  the  old  and  experienced  inmates  of  such  places. 

meal,  or  pert  thereof,  and  a  repetition  of  offenee  by  inereaeed  stoppages,  or  by  solitary  eonfinement  oa  bread 
and  vater  only,  or  by  suoh  other  punishment  as  the  \aw  has  provided.  Singing  or  whisUing  in  the  edb, 
work-rooms,  or  yards,  is  strictly  prohibited,  and  the  following  are  also  declared  to  be  acts  of  disorder 
and  to  be  punishable  as  such,  vis : — any  attempt  to  barter  or  exchange  provisions,  any  maiking,  deCaoing  or 
injuring  the  doors,  walls,  tread-wheels,  forms,  tables,  clothes,  bedding,  boolcs,  or  atensUs  whatsoever  of  the 
prison,  any  attempt  at  communication  by  signs,  writing,  or  stratagem  of  any  sort ;  any  unnecaesary  looking 
round  or  about,  each  prisoner  being  required  to  look  before  him  either  at  Divine  service  or  at  woik,  meals, 
exercise,  or  passage  from  one  part  of  the  prison  to  the  other,  any  secreting  of  money,  tobacco  or  forbidden 
articles,  either  on  first  admission  into  the  prison  or  afterwards ;  any  purloining  or  contriving  to  pnrioia 
provisions,  books,  combs,  or  any  other  article,  or,  when  employed  in  the  grounds,  purloining  vegeta^bles  or 
fruit,  &&,  growing  therein ;  or  any  wilful  disobedienoe  of  such  orders  of  the  governor  or  cfficen  of  tbe 
prison  as  shall  be  in  accordance  widi  law  and  the  rules  of  the  prison. 

^*  29.  Any  convicted  prisoner  who  shall  neglect  or  refuse  to  perform  the  labour  allotted  to  him,  or  who, 
shall  make  or  attempt  to  make  any  wound,  sore^  or  "fox"  on  his  person,  or  counterfeit  fits,  or  any  ailment, 
for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  the  sanction  of  the  surgeon  to  be  excused  labour,  or  an  increased  allowanee  of 
diet,  or  any  indulgence  either  in  or  out  of  the  infirmary,  or  shall  be  guilty  of  a  breach  of  the  prison  mles, 
shall  be  liable  to  be  punished  by  being  kept  in  solitary  confinement  on  bread  and  water  only,  for  nek  time 
not  exceeding  one  month  as  the  visiting  justices  shall  think  fit 

"  30.  The  governor  may  examine  any  persons  touching  ofiences  committed  by  prisoneta,  and  determine 
thereupon ;  and  order  any  prisoner  so  offending  to  be  punished  for  not  more  than  three  days,  as  the  case 
may  deserve.  The  several  punishments  for  prisoners  are — dose  confinement  in  their  own  cells,  or  in 
refractory  cells,  allowance  of  bread  and  water  only  for  food,  or  reduction  of  the  ordinary  allowanee  of  food ; 
or,  in  case  of  necessity,  offenders  may  be  placed  in  irons  (but  not  for  more  than  twenty-four  honn  at  one 
time  without  a  written  order  by  a  visiting  justice).  In  cases  of  greater  or  repeated  offence^  a  visiting  or 
other  justice  may  order  close  confinement  for  a  month,  or  personal  correction  in  the*  case  of  psisoBen 
convicted  of  felony  or  sentenced  to  hard  labour. 

'*  81.  A  prisoner's  earnings,  or  money  in  the  hands  of  the  governor,  shall  be  liable  and  may  be  applied 
towards  the  repair  of  any  injury  done  by  him  wilfully  to  the  prison,  or  to  county  property,  or  other  ptejpetlj 
therein. 

"  32.  Any  prisoner  whose  term  of  imprisonment  would  expire  on  a  Sunday,  shall  be  disofaaigsd  on  the 
Saturday  next  preceding."  ^ 

The  subjoined  ii  the  official  notice  concerning  the  "  star  system,"  as  it  is  called .— 

«BBWAB3>8  TO  PBIBONBBS  FOR  GOOD  OONDVCT. 

''A  Bed  Star  on  the  left  arm  shall  be  worn  as  a  mark  of  good  conduct  by  prisonen,  for  every  flkree 
months  they  may  have  been  in  the  prison  without  any  complaint  or  report  being  made  against  them.  They 
may,  however,  be  deprived  thereof  in  case  of  misconduct. 

*^  A  prisoner  in  poesession,  at  the  time  of  his  or  her  discharge,  of  one  or  more  Start  may  rseeive  a 
reward  to  be  determined  by  the  visiting  justices. 

''  By  order  of  the  visiting  justices, 

''OKAXLn  Chsbtraii^  Governor/* 


HOUSE  OP  COEKECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  439 


^  ii. — 17. 
fJfJiBMmU  Offmthr»,  m  OmneMm  wiiik  ths  Increase  of  Cnme  in  thU  Chuntry. 

From  what  has  been  already  shown  in  connection  with  the  details  of  the  boys'  prison  at 
Tothill  Fields,  as  well  as  concerning  the  number  of  boy-prisoners,  or  juTenile  offenders,  as 
they  are  called,  in  the  prisons  of  the  country  generally,  we  believe  no  thinking  person  can 
come  to  any  other  condnsion,  than  that  it  is  from  such  classes  as  these  the  old  and  habitual 
criminals  among  us  are  originally  derived,  and  annually  recruited,  so  as  to  keep  on  supplying, 
year  after  year,  with  but  slight  fluctuations,  the  same  number  for  trial  at  our  sessions  and 
assizes,  and  the  same  number  of  convicts,  without  any  apparent  decrease  of  the  criminal 
stock  of  the  country.  Nevertheless,  persons  who  are  unused  to  the  study  of  such  matters, 
are  inclined  to  adopt  hasty  theories  concerning  the  origin  of  crime  among  ilb,  and  to  refer 
it  to  eircumstances  which,  though  they  may  tend  to  swell  the  number  of  casual  criminals, 
cannot  strictly  be  said  to  have  any  influence  on  the  formation  of  habitual  ones. 

It  is  manifest  that,  in  order  to  obtain  a  reg^ar  living  by  criminal  courses,  it  is  necessary 
that  the  same  apprenticeship  should  be  served  to  the  different  forms  of  that  business,  as 
to  any  other  trade.  A  novice,  who  tried  to  pick  a  pocket,  or  break  into  a  house,  or  coin 
a  piece  of  false  money^  would  be  detected  in  the  very  first  attempt,  and  a  stop  probably  be 
put  to  his  career  even  in  the  outset.  Those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  intricate  machinery 
necessary  for  carrying  on  a  successful  course  of  crime,  even  for  a  short  period — ^how,  for 
instance,  with  burglars,  it  is  necessary  to  be  in  connection  with  ''  putters-up"  to  plan  the 
robberies,  companions  wherewith  to  execute  them,  and  "  fences"  to  receive  the  property  when 
gtolen — ^how,  with  coiners,  it  is  essential  to  know  where  to  obtain  the  apparatus  and  mate- 
rials, and  the  "  smashers"  by  whom  to  pass  the  "  shoful"  pieces  off  upon  the  public — and  how, 
with  pickpockets  too,  it  is  necessary  to  go  out  with  "  stalls"  to  cover  the  actual  offender,  and 
otiiers  to  whom  to  pass  the  handkerchief,  or  the  purse,  immediately  it  is  taken ;  so  that  one 
might  as  well  think  of  starting  as  an  attorney,  without  being  acquainted  with  the  legal 
oiEces  and  practice  of  the  courts,  as  well  as  the  proper  coxmsel  and  pleaders  to  employ. 

A  moment's  reflection,  however,  will  teach  the  keen-witted,  that  crime  is  as  much  a 
business  among  us,  as  manufacturing  or  trading  in  any  article  of  wealth.  Hence,  it  is 
dear  that  the  professional  criminals  of  this  country  must  be  regularly  bred  and  educated  to 
the  craft — ^for  such  it  really  is. 

That  the  juvenile  offenders  are  the  principal  class  from  whom  the  old  habitual  ones  are 
derived  becomes  positively  indisputable,  when  the  facts  are  brought  clearly  before  the 
mind.  Among  the  boy-prisoners,  a  large  proportion  of  Irish  lads  are  always  to  be  found ; 
and  we  have  before  said,  that  a  considerable  number  of  the  regular  thieves  are  declared, 
even  by  the  class  themselves,  to  be  Irish-Cockneys.  Further,  we  have  proved  that  the 
majority  of  the  convicts  of  the  country  are  between  the  ages  of  1 7  and  25 ;  and  when  this  is 
coupled  with  the  fistct,  that  the  average  duration  of  a  thief's  career  is,  according  to  the  best 
authorities,  somewhere  about  six  years,  it  is  plain  that  the  juvenile  offender  must,  in  the 
course  of  time,  pass  into  the  fiill-grown  thief. 

A  thieTs  life,  the  men  themselves  say,  consists  generally  of  four  months  in  prison  and 
six  months  out ;  and,  during  this  period,  the  mobsmen  calculate  that  they  commit  some  six 
robberies  a  day,  or,  on  an  average,  fifty  per  week ;  for  there  is  generally  something  going  on, 
they  say,  one  day  in  the  seven — either  a  race,  or  a  fair,  or  a  review,  or  a  flower-show,  or  a 
conflrmation,  or  a  popular  preacher  to  draw  large  crowds  together.  Hence,  it  would 
appear,  that  not  less  than  1,000  robberies  must  be  committed  by  each  regular  hand  to  one 
dietectLon.    It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that  to  perpetrate  such  an  amount  of  depredations  with- 


440  THE  GEEAT  VOELD  OP  LONDON. 

out  discovery  must  require  not  only  long  practice,  bnt  great  knowledge  of  the  moTements  of 
the  police,  aa  well  as  considerable  cunning  and  sleight  of  hand,  all  of  which  are  utterly 
incompatible  with  any  sudden  additions  of  untrained  persons  to  the  class. 

Notwithstanding  these  plain  fSeicts,  however,  learned  professors  mU  occasiona]ly  read 
papers  before  meetings  of  scientific  gentlemen,  in  order  to  prove  that  ihe  fluctoations  in  the 
number  of  our  criminals  are  due  to  the  greater  or  less  prosperity  of  the  nation,  and  that 
years  of  distress  are  years  in  which  malefeu^tors  abound,  and  years  of  plenty  those  in 
which  our  murderers,  and  burglars,  and  pickpockets  cease  to  indulge  in  their  natural 
propensities. 

Now,  surely  it  can  be  no  offence  to  tiiese  sages  to  insinuate,  that  they  are  as  unacquainted 
with  the  characters  of  the  people  concerning  whom  they  are  speculating,  as  geologists, are 
with  the  habits  of  the  megatherium  and  iguanodon.  They  foiget  that  crime  is  made  up 
of  many  elements — ^that  a  large  proportion  of  it  consists  of  acts  of  ferocity  and  malice — such 
as  assaults,  and  attempts  to  kiU,  and  of  actual  manslaughter ;  though  such  propensities  surely 
cannot  be  referred  to  a  scarcity  of  food  amongst  the  people,  since  an  increase  in  the  number 
of  assaults  is  known  to  be  connected  with  a  greater  consumption  of  spirituous  liquors. 
Again,  another  form  of  crime  consists  of  acts  of  lust,  indecency,  shame,  &c. ;  and  these, 
also,  have  assuredly  nothing  to  do  with  any  deterioration  in  the  comforts  of  the  community. 

A  third  division  of  the  same  subject  is  made  up  of  the  crimes  of  evil-speaking,  such  as 
perjury,  &c. ;  but  these,  too,  cannot  possibly  be  said  to  be  influenced  by  years  of  prosperity 
or  the  reverse. 

The  only  kind  of  crimes,  indeed,  that  would  appear,  at  first  sight,  to  be  attributable  to 
the  increased  poverty  of  the  people,  are  those  offences  which  consist  of  the  appropriation  of 
the  property  of  others,  such  as'  acts  of  felony,  larceny,  sheep-stealing,  embezzlement^  ille- 
gally pawning,  forgery,  and  the  like.  But  even  these  will  be  found,  when  duly  analysed, 
to  consist  midnly,  as  we  have  said,  of  such  acts  as  it  is  impossible  for  any  one  to  commit 
without  an  almost  certainty  of  being  detected  at  the  very  outset,  and  of  practices  which 
persons  certainly  do  not  adopt  on  the  spur  of  the  moment,  but  to  which  they  are  regularly 
bred  and  trained.  By  fisur  the  greater  proportion  even  of  this  class  of  crimes  consists  <^ 
those  of  which  a  large  proportion  of  our  population  make  a  regular  trade ;  and  as  well  mi^t 
it  be  said  that  the  numbers  of  clergymen,  or  merchants,  or  the  engineers  of  the  country, 
vary  with  the  varying  wealth  of  our  people,  as  that  our  habitual  criminals  do  so. 

Moreover,  those  who  desire  to  be  convinced  upon  the  subject,  can  put  the  matter  to 
the  test  of  figures,  and  see  whether  the  fluctuations  in  the  number  committed  for  trial 
agree  with  the  variations  in  the  number  of  the  able-bodied  paupers  through  a  long  series  of 
years.  The  amount  of  pauperism  in  the  land  is  the  true  test  as  to  the  prosperity  or  distress 
of  the  country ;  and  if  it  can  be  shown,  which  assuredly  it  cannot  (for  years  ago  we  put  ihe 
matter  to  the  ordeal  of  statistics),  that  in  those  bounties  and  in  those  years  in  which  there 
is  a  greater  nimiber  of  able-bodied  poor  relieved,  there  is  also  a  greater  number  of  persons 
tried  at  the  assizes  or  sessions  throughout  the  country — ^then,  but  not  tiU  then,  it  may  be 
truly  asserted,  that  the  greater  or  less  number  of  criminals  is  governed  by  a  greater  or  kas 
amoant  of  misery  in  the  land. 

Now,  the  mistake  which  is  usually  made  in  all  such  theories  lies  in  fmcying  not  only 
that  there  is  but  one  kind  of  crime,  viz.,  theft  of  some  form  or  other,  but  also  in  confounding 
habitual  with  oatuaH  criminals.  The  number  of  habitual  criminals,  however,  is  influenced  only 
by  the  number  of  convicts  annually  drafted  from  the  criminal  ranks  into  our  prisons,  or 
transported  to  our  colonies,  as  well  as  by  the  number  of  those  guondmn  young  offenden  who 
yearly  arrive  at  man's  estate.  There  may  be  a  few  others  occasionally  added  to  the  body 
from  association  with  some  of  the  tribe ;  but  these  are  merely  exceptional  cases,  and  serve 
to  increase  the  bulk  of  the  pix)fessionals  to  a  very  small  degree.  "With  the  casual  crimes  the 
case  is  entirely  different,  and  these  being  accidental  offences,  arising  generally  either  from 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTION,  TOTHTLL  FIELDS.  441 

the  cupidity  or  temptation  of  the  culprits,  they  are  often  bronght  about  by  an  increased 
preflsuie  of  ciroumstanceSy  and  therefore  it  is  but  natural  that  the  number  of  them  should 
TBzy  with  the  varying  prosperity  of  the  nation.* 

Further,  we  haye  before  shown  that  whereas  the  number  of  criminals,  in  relation  to 
the  population  of  the  country  (exdusiTely  of  those  summarily  oonyicted),  yields  an  average 
dnrmg  the  last  20  years  of  15^  to  every  10,000  of  the  population,  the  habitual  criminals 
make  up  about  12}  of  the  ratio,  whilst  the  casual  ones  constitute  merely  the  small  remainder. 
And  it  will  be  found,  by  studying  the  criminal  records  of  the  country,  that  the  casual  ones 
increase  and  decrease  with  different  years ;  whilst  the  habitual  ones  remain  more  or  less  sta- 
tionary, altered  only  by  the  numbers  who  are  regularly  added  to  or  removed  from  the  ranks. 
For  the  sake  of  putting  the  criminal  question  into  something  like  a  scientific  form,  we 
have  drawn  up  the  following  series  of  tables,  wherein  the  crimes  are  regularly  classified 
aooording  to  ihe  causes,  or  rather  the  impulses  dictaling  them ;  whilst  each  class  is  sepa- 
rated into  two  main  divisions,  according  as  the  crimes  included  under  them  are,  or  are  not, 
capable  of  being  made  a  means  of  living  or  matter  of  trade  by  those  who  practice  them. 
Moreover,  the  numbers  accused  of  each  of  the  several  offences  have  been  calculated,  with 
relation  to  a  definite  number  of  the  population,  for  each  quinquennial  period  during  the  last 
twenty  years ;  and  thus  the  reader  is  placed  in  a  position  to  observe  the  various  increments  and 
decrements  of  the  different  crimes,  as  weU  as  among  the  widely-different  classes  of  criminals. 
By  these  tables,  which,  it  should  be  added,  include  every  crime  given  in  the  Government 
Betoms,  it  will  be  seen  that  there  are,  according  to  the  average  for  the  last  twenty  years, 
12*8  habitual  criminals,  and  2*8  casual  ones  to  every  10,000  of  our  people ;  and  that  whereas 
the  ratio  of  the  habitual  criminals  was  IS'l  during  the  decenniad  ending  1843,  it  was  12-5 
to  the  same  number  of  the  population  in  the  one  ending  1853,  so  that  there  was  a  slight 
decrease  (0-6  per  10,000  of  the  population)  in  the  course  of  that  period;  whilst,  with  the 
casual  criminals,  the  average  ratio  was  3*0  in  the  same  number  firom  1834  to  1843,  and  2*7 
between  1844  and  1853 ;  tlius  showing  a  decrease  of  0*3  per  10,000.     These  are  facts  which 
teach  us  how  slight  an  impression  has  really  been  made  upon  the  great  body  of  criminals  by 
all  our  late  endeavours. 

As  regards  the  different  kinds  of  crimes  conmiitted  by  these  two  distinct  classes  of 
criminalB,  it  will  be  found,  that  whilst  the  records  show  a  ratio  of  15*7  criminals  of  both 
dasses  per  10,000  of  the  population,  not  less  than  12*8  of  these  belong  to  the  class  who 
commit  crimes  of  dishonesty  of  some  kind  or  other,  and  that  as  many  as  11}  of  this  pro- 
portion appertain  to  the  habitual  order  of  offenders.  Of  the  remainder,  2*3  of  the  15  7 
criminals  indulge  in  acts  of  ferocity  and  malice,  and  only  0*3  in  offences  of  a  lustM  or 
indecent  character. 

*  The  above  remarks  refer  principally  to  a  paper  that  was  read  before  the  last  meetiiig  of  the  Britieh 
Anodatioii,  and  entitled,  **  A  Deduction  from  tke  Statistics  of  Crime  for  the  last  Ten  Tears,"  and  in  which  it 
was  stated  that  '^  the  returns  of  the  committals  for  trial  at  assize  and  quarter  sessions  in  England  and  Wales 
from  1844  to  1854  (the  last  year  for  which  they  haye  heen  published)  show  clearly  that  crime  increases  when 
the  physical  condition  of  the  people  deteriorates,  nndvics  versA,  In  1844  the  number  of  committals,"  it  was 
Bsid,  «waa  26,642 ;  in;i845,  24,303;  1846,  25,107 ;  1847,  28,833 ;  1848,  80,340 ;  1849,  27,816 ;  1850,26,818 ; 
1861,  27,960 ;  1852,  27,510 ;  1853,  27,057 ;  and  in  1854,  29,359.  The  first  year,"  argues  the  professor,  <<  in 
which  the  oommittals  increased  is  1847— a  year  of  distress — ^the  rise  then  being  nearly  4,000.  This  rise  was 
maintained,  with  an  addition  of  nearly  1,500  in  1848,  likewise  a  year  of  distress,  partly  owing  to  the  same  causes 
as  in  1847,  and  partly  on  account  of  political  disturbances  and  apprehensions.  In  1849,  the  causes  which  before 
had  depreaaed  the  condition  of  the  labourer  died  away.  Food  was  cheap  and  employment  abundant. 
EmigraAion  had  removed  many  of  the  workiDg-olasses,  and  those  who  remained  at  home  found  the  demand  for 
their  serricee  inoreaaed ;  and  In  that  year  we  find  the  oommittals  decline  by  nearly  2,500.  The  succeeding 
years  were  likewise  seasons  of  prosperity,  and  during  these  the  criminal  returns  exhibit  no  marked  fluctua- 
tion. In  the  last  year  of  the  series  the  number  of  oommittals  rose  by  a  little  over  2,000,  but  at  the  same  time 
the  condition  of  the  people  was  impaired,  owing  to  the  enhanced  price  of  food  and  other  neoessaries  of  life, 
and  also  to  the  waste  of  the  national  resources  and  partial  derangement  of  trade  occasioned  by  the  war." 


442 


THE  GEEAT  VOSLD  OF  LONDON. 


TABLE  flSOWING  THE  MHOS  OF  mt  AOGUSBD  TO  EV1SBT  10,000,000  07  FOPULA310N  THBOCOflDFT  KMGLANB 
Al^B  WALES,  AND  ALSO  THE  INGfiJBASE  OB  DE0&BA8E  F0&  EACH  CKXICE,  ASJUJrGSD  IN  CLA)B8EB  AXB 
ORDERS,  DURIK6  THE  SEVERAL  QUmaUENNIAL  AKD  DECENNIAL  PERIODS  EROJl  1834-1858. 


Quinqaemdal  Ratios  from 

Qoinquenalal  Batlos  tnm.   | 

Decennial  Ratios  from 

1&84-48. 

1MM9. 

1834.68. 

ATcrtfei 
fteliofor: 

Cuitks. 

Increase 

Tnorease 

Increase 

SOyeua.' 

KSi^. 

1688.48. 

or 

Decrease. 

184446. 

1641^. 

or 

Decrease. 

ISSMS. 

1844-58. 

or 
Decrease. 

ClftM  Z. 

CRnrPiS  OF  FEROom 

AND  MALICE. 

ORDER  A.<-CABUAL  CRfMES. 

1.  MtttS«kou8  Cmbs. 

^^ 

t 

Murder  ....... 

47-6 

89-0 

—     7-7 

41-9 

41-1 

—     0-8 

48-6 

41-5 

—     2-1 

42-5 

Attempts  to  mnrder,  at-\ 

tended  with  dangerous 

bodily  harm  .... 
I)itto,iuiattendedwithdo.  ■ 

92-2 

189-4 

+  47-2 

136-4 

148-8 

+  n-g 

116-6 

142-5 

4-  25-9 

129  V 

Shooting     at,    stabbing, 

wonnd^g,    3ko.t    with 

intent  to  maim  .     ,    ,' 

Killing  and  maiming  cattle . 
ToUil  Murdonua  Caut    . 

23-6 

19-8 

—     8-8 

191 

10-1 

—     30 

21-7 

17-6 

—     41 

i9-r» 

168-4 

199-1 

-f  86-7 

197-4 

206-fi 

+    81 

181-9 

«01-6 

4-  29-7 

191  •« 

2.   H01CICTT>AT.  ASmASSATTLT 

Casks. 

. 

Manslaughter  •    .    .    -    . 

148*8 

181 -ft 

—   17-8 

118-9 

121-8 

4-    2-4 

189*8 

120*1 

—  19-7 

129n» 

Assaults    and    inflicting  \ 

1 

bodily  harm 

507-4 

438-7 

—   78-7 

452-7 

880-8 

—  72*4 

469-8 

195-5 

—278-8 

882-4. 

Ditto  (common)    .    .    .  j 

' 

Ditto  on  peace  officers  in  the 

execution  of  their  duty  . 

302-9 

800-9 

—     20 

200-2 

145-1 

—  55-1 

801*9 

171-S 

—  1301 

236-9 

Rescue  and  refusing  to  aid 

peace  officers    .    .    .    . 

181 

148 

—     8-8 

5-8 

81 

—     2-7 

16-1 

4-4 

—  11-7 

10-2 

Riot,  breach  of  peace,  &q,  . 
Total  Homioidalandoiker 

407-9 

888-9 

—  690 

234-4 

153-6 

—  80-8 

372-3 

192-8 

179-5 

283Ti 

Juauli* 

l,88d-l 

1,219-8 

— m-8 

1,012-0 

803*4 

—208*6 

1,299-4 

684-6 

—  614-8 

9931 

8.  Abson  Casks. 

• 

Setting  fire  to  dwelling- \ 

house,  shop,  &c.,  per- 

76-8 

sons  being  within   .     . 

88-& 

82-9 

—     2-9 

97-1 

+  20-8 

84-8 

87-0    +  5«-t 

6iH 

Ditto  house,  warehouse, 

corn-stack,  ^o.  .    .     .  / 

heaths,  ie 

4-7 

4-8 

4-    01 

6-6 

8-7 

4-    21 

4-7 

7-6 

4-    2-9 

6-^ 

Attempts  to  commit  anon, 

set  fire  to  crops,  &e,  .    . 
Total  Anon  Coitt .    .    . 

31 

2-4 

—     0-7 

8-4 

2*0 

—     1-4 

2-7 

a-7 

OH) 

2-T 

48-6 

40-8 

—     8'8 

86-8 

107-8 

—  21-5 

41-7 

97-3 

—  55-6 

66^ 

4.  Dkstkuctitk  Casks. 

Riot,  and  feloniouslj  des- 

troying   buildings,    ma- 

chinery, Ac 

61 

18-5 

4-  18-4 

2-8 

2-2 

-     0-6 

ia*o 

3*5 

^    9^ 

T-.: 

Destroying  textile  goods  in 

course  of  manufacture    . 

1-2 

1-7 

+    0-5 

0-8 

-01 

—  0-79 

1-4 

•04 

—     l-S 

ft>^ 

Ditto      hop-binds,     trees, 

1 

] 

■ 

shrubs,  ^c 

7-1 

6-4 

—     0-7 

2-6 

8-6 

+    1*0 
+    8-7 

6-9 

8-C 

—    S-IM 

*^. 

Other  malioioufl  offences    . 
Total  Dutructwt  Catu    . 

.  6-6 

18-fl 

+    6-9 

11-5 

15-2 

101 

18-4 

4-    S-8 

11-:' 

20-C 

40-3 

+  20*8 

17-7 

21-1 

+    8-4 

30-4 

18-ft 

—  21*5 

Si-f* 

JU  Canud  Crime*  oS  Te- 

roeity  and  MaKe*    .    . 

1,612-1 

1,499-0 

— 118-1 

1,818-4 

1,187-8 

—  ITS-e 

1,558-7 

1002*4 

—  55l-« 

i.»7r 

HOUSE  OP  OOERECnON,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


443 


1 

Onfannwmial  Satioa  fhan 
I984w|a. 

QnlaqnenDial  Ratios  from 
1844-53. 

Decennial  Batloa  from 
1884^8. 

ATerace 
Elatiofor 
20  years. 

Cms*. 

1B84^. 

18SMS. 

Inoraaae 

or 
Decrease. 

SS'ABa 

1849^. 

Xneraaae 

or 
Decrease. 

1884.48. 

1844.68. 

Increase 

or 
Deerease. 

Cum  I— OmfntaM^ 

ORDER  B.— HABITUAL 
CRIMBB. 

1.  BUBOLAKIDUB  CaSMB. 

I>o.atttendedwithviolBiiM ) 
Homabrealrfng     •    .    .    • 
Breakiiig  within  cortilBge  . 
Do.  into  thopA,  wanhooaes, 
comting-hcwHOB    utOTllng 
Kiademeaaoon  with  intent 
»    to  ocnmnitt  4m.  •    .    •    . 
Stallage 

Total  Burglarious  Catet  . 

2.  HlOaWAT  ROBBEBT 

Cases. 

Robbery \ 

Do.  and  attempt  to  rob 

with  anned  company . 
Do.  attended  with  entting 

and  wounding   .    .    .    ' 
Afisaalts  with  intent  to  rob, 

and  with  menacea  .    .    . 
Stealing  in  dwelling-hooBea 

and  penooa  pat  in  fear  . 

Total  Highwav  Bobbery 
Cam 

3.  PtBAcr  Cabxs. 
Kncy 

Total  Piracy  CaMU      .     . 

4.  SvuoouKO  Cahbb. 

Assembling  srmed  to  aid 
smngglera 

Usaanlting  and  ohatrooting 
officeia 

Total  SwuggUng  Casta    . 

5.  PoACRTNO  Cases. 

Poaching,  being  ont  armed 
taking  game 

Total  Poaching  Cases .    . 

6.  Escape  roox  Cvstodt 
Cases. 

PHson-brealdng,    harbonr- 
ing  and  aiding  the  escape 
offelons 

Being  at  large  under  sen- 
tence of  transportation  . 

Total  Escapes  from  Cus- 
tody   

202*5 

818*4 
65*1 

91-0 

18*9 
7*2 

867-9 

898*4 
61*8 

184-6 

16-6 
9*7 

+  155*4 

-f   85*0 
—     4-8 

+  48-5 

+     ^'^ 
.+     2*5 

275-4 

880-9 
860 

118-2 

:      14-2 
4-0 

•2 

8835 
88*1 

96-9 

19-9 
6*7 

+  Sl-8 

+     2-6 
+     2-1 

—  21*8 

4-     4*7 
+     .1-7 

282-7 

857-8 
63-1 

118*5 

14*8 

8-6 

292*7 

882-7 
871 

105-8 

17-1 
4-9 

+    10-0 

—  24-6 

—  160 

—  7-7 

+     2-8 
+     3*7 

287-7 

845-0 
45-1 

109-6 

15-9 
6-8 

6881 

219*8 

41-7 
2-1 

967*8 

248*9 

27-8 
2-7 

+  284-2 

+  24-6 

—   18*9 
+     0*6 

778-7 

211-4 

18*6 
0-6 

801*8 

264-3 

19*8 
1-2 

4-  22-6 

4-   52*9 

4-     1*2 
4-     0-6 

880*0 

231*9 

84-6 
2-5 

790*8 

288-8 

18-7 
0*9 

4   89-7 

4     6*9 

4    15-9 
+     1-6 

810-1 

235-8 

26-7 
1-7 

268-1 
0-2 

274-4 
2-9 

+   11*8 
+     2*7 

280*6 
4-0 

285-8 
•02 

4-   54-7 
—   8-98 

269-0 
1*6 

258*4 
2*0 

+    11-6 
4     0*4 

288*7 

1*8 

0-2 

3-6 
2*1 

2-9 

*  • 
8*6 

4-     2-7 

—     3*8 
4-     1*5 

4-0 
•04 

-02 

•  • 
1-6 

—  8-98 

•  • 
+    1-66 

1-6 

1*8 
2*9 

2-0 

0*0 
0*9 

4     0*4 

—  1-8 

—  2-0 

1-8 

0-9 
1*9 

5-9 
77-7 

8*6 
79-6 

—     2-8 
4-     1*9 

-04 
66-6 

1*6 
80*0 

4-   1*66 
-f   18-4 

4-7 
78-6 

0-9 
^78-5 

—  8-8 

—  51 

2-8 
71*0 

77-7 

11-0 
21 

79-6 

14*4 
2-6 

+     1*9 

+     8-4 
+     0*4 

66*6 

12*8 
2*0 

80-0 

10*8 
4-0 

4-   18*4 

—     2*5 
4-     20 

78-6 

12*8 
2*8 

73*5 

11*6 
30 

—  5-1 

—  1*3 
4     0*7 

71-0 

12*2 
2*6 

18-1 

16*9 

+     8*8 

14-8 

14*8 

—     0*5 

16*1 

14*5 

—     0*6 

14-8 

Att   Habiiual   Crimes  ttf 
Ferocity  and  Malice    . 

1,048*1 

1,844-7 

+  801-6 

1,094-74 

1,182-52 

4.87*78 

1,1990 

1,189*6 

—  69-4 

1,156-2 

444 


THE  GBEAT  VOBLD  OF  LONDON. 


Quinquennial  Ratios  from 

- 
Quinquennial  Batios  from 

Csixis. 

1834-i8. 

1844-68. 

1884-68. 

Increase 

Increase 

Inc 

Avenn 
RatfaTsir. 

18314». 

1830-48. 

or 
Decrease. 

1844.48. 

18i94»8. 

or 
Decrease. 

1884-48. 

1844.M. 

or 
Decrease. 

JOjVtXB. 

CUM  n. 

CEIMES  OF  CUPIDITI 

AND  TEMPTATIOK. 

ORDER  A.— CASUAL  CRI ME8. 

Bbkacb  of  Tbcst  Cases. 

Larceny  by  sexrants      •    . 

0201 

920-8 

4- 

300-2 

9-28-2 

959-0 

+ 

80-8 

785-8 

944-0 

+ 

158-7 

1       864-6 

Stealing  goods  in  process 

of  manofSetotnre      .    •    . 

2-6 

2-5 

+ 

00 

0-6 

1-2 

+ 

0-6 

2-5 

0-9 

■«„ 

1-6 

1-7 

Ditto  fixtures,  trees,  &c,    . 

1109-6 

195*4 

+ 

85-9 

188-2 

1560 

27-2 

158-9 

169*6 

+ 

5-7 

.       161-6 

Ditto   and   receiying  post 

1              ' 

letters 

4-0 

12-2 

t 

8-2 

10-0 

14-0 

+ 

4-0 

8-2 

12-2 

+ 

4-0 

10-a 

Embezzlement     .     .    .    . 

176-0 

228-7 

47-7 

217-5 

208-1 

9-4 

200-7 

212-7 

+ 

12-0 

206-7  • 

Forging  of  other  forged  in- 

. 

» 

stmments      (such      as 

cheques,    bills    of     ex- 

, 

change,  <fec.)     .    .    .    . 
All  Catual  Crimea  €if  Cupi- 

46-8 

88-8 

+ 

880 

87-7 

86-8 

^— 

0-9 

65-4 

87-0 

+ 

31-6 

76-2 

dity  and  TempitUion     . 

957-9 

1487*9 

+ 

480*0 

1,427-2 

1,425-1 

— 

2*1 

1^16*1 

1,426-4 

+ 

aio-8 

.  1^21-a 

ORDER  B.— HABITUAL 

CRIMES. 

1.  AOBICULTXJBAL  CaSES. 

1 

Cattle  Stealing     .    .    .    . 

24-8 

80-4 

+ 

6-1 

22-0 

19-2 

.» 

2-8 

27-4 

20-8 



7-1 

23-9 

Horse  stealing     .... 

104-8 

107-5 

+ 

8-2 

78-1 

60-8 

— 

17-3 

106-0 

69-2 

__^ 

86-8 

87  6 

Sheep  stealing     .... 

196-9 

284-5 

+ 

88-6 

154-3 

184-5 

— 

19-8 

215-9 

144-5 

^^^ 

71-4 

180-4 

Deer  stealing 

8-9 

4-1 

X 

0-2 

6-0 

2-5 

— 

2-5 

4-0 

8-7 



0-3 

S"^ 

Tot4d  Cattle  Stealing,  and 

4-7 

4-9 

0-2 

5*6 

2-7 

— 

2-8 

4-8 

'    40 

— 

0-8 

41 

1 

, 

similar  Caeee      .     .     . 

8881 

881-4 

+ 

48-S 

264-9 

219*7 

— 

45-2 

358-1 

241-7 

— 

116-4 

,       »•*, 

2.  Labobnt  Cases  (chiefly 

ciyic). 

Larceny,  to  the  yalne  of  £6, 

( 

in  a  dwelling-hoase    •    . 

111'8 

120-4 

+ 

8-6 

116-4 

184-9 

18« 

116-3 

123-9 

4- 

9-6 

121  1 

Ditto  from  the  person   .    . 

1,0381 

1,018-6 

16-5 

1,094-8 

1,168-2 

73-9 

1,025  6 

1,182-4 

+ 

106-8 

IjOTpi- 

Ditto  (simple)      .     .    ,    . 
Total  Larceny  Caeet  .    . 

8,256-0 

9,886-4 

H-l,S79-4 

8,988-7 

8,265-2 

— 

678-5 

9,072-2 

8,616-6 

435-e 

83441 

1 

9,4009 

10,974-4 

+1 

,578-5 

10,199*4 

9,548-3 

— 

581-1 

10,2141 

9,874-9 

— 

88lh3> 

10,044-2 

8.  Petty  Cases. 

1 

Stealing  from  ressels  in  port 

1 

ChUd  stealing 

42-0 

79-8 

+ 

87-8 

84-0 

55-9 

— . 

28-1 

61-6 

69-6 

4- 

R-0 

&^<* 

Misdemeanours,   with    in- 

tent to  steal 

2-7 

1-8 

— 

0-9 

2-0 

2-0 

0*0 

2-2 

2-0 

^m^ 

0-2 

2-1 

# 

11-9 

12-5 

+ 

0-6 

20-0 

81-1 

+ 

111 

12-3 

25-7 

+ 

18-4 

l^t- 

Total  Petty  Caeea  .     .     . 

- 

566 

94-1 

+ 

87-6 

106-0 

89-(} 

,  ^ 

170 

76-1 

9T-8 

+ 

2112. 

(%  \ 

4.  BECEiviira  Cases  (chiefly 

by  fences  and  cheats). 

1 

ReceiTcrs  of  stolen  goods  . 

458-2 

524-9 

-H 

66-7 

407-8 

448-5 

+ 

86-2 

492-7 

425-9 



06-8 

459*-* 

Frauds  and  attempts  to  de- 

fruud  (cheats)  .... 
Total  Receiving  Cases 

284-5 

864-5 

+ 

800 

8879 

862-4 

+ 

24-5 

8-25-9 

850-6 

+ 

24-7 

'     S88-: 

* 

742-7 

889-4 

-H 

146-7 

745*2 

805-9 

+ 

60-7 

818-6 

776-5 

42-1 

797? 

6.  FoBOEBT  Cases. 

Forging  Bank  of  England 

■ 

notes  ("shoful"  thieres) 

2-2 

7-8 

+ 

5-1 

1-6 

7-2 

+ 

6-6 

6-8 

4-5 

._ 

2-8 

5-6 

Possessing  ditto   .    .    .    . 
Total  Forgery  Cases    .     . 

0-2 

0-7 

+ 

0-5 

0-1 

0-7 

+ 

0-6 

0-5 

•04 

— 

01 
2-77 

03 

» 

2-4 

8-0 

+ 

5-6 

1-7 

7-P  + 

6-2 

7*8 

4-54 

5; 

HOUSE  OF  COEEEOnON,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


445 


Quhiffaeiuiiil  Batios  from 
18M.4S. 


Cum  n.— CbdMiMtftf. 

6.  Connxft  CAaxs. 
Conntei&itiDg  the  cvrent 

coin 

Ponening,     fto.,     impU- 

ments  for  oohixng  .    .    . 
Bi^ng   and    putting    off 

eoonterfait  oom     .    . 
Uttering  and  poeseasing  do. 


18S4^. 


16S9^. 


12-8 

9*8 

4-5 
200-8 


Total  Coining  C<ue»    .     . 
7.  OtSBB  FlLOlfT  AXD  Mis- 

smxANOUB  Cjlsbb. 
Feboies   not  indlnded  in 

the  above     .... 
Misdemeanours,  ditto   . 

Total   other  Fdony   and 
Caoea 


285-9 


11-6 

16-4 

0-9 
22(H) 


248*9 


Inereaee 
or 


—  0-7 

r  e-e 

—  86 
+  10-7 


Qoinqnennial  Ratio*  from 
1B44^. 


1844*4o« 


+     14-7 


Aa  Habitual  Criaut    oj 
CaptdUy   and  Tampia 
tion 


6-4 
08*1 


64*5 


10,884*1 


6*9 
100*5 


5-9 

9*4 

0-7 
200-6 


1848-58. 


laoreaae 

or 
ueovcase. 


Beeenslal  Batioe  from 
18S4^. 


107-4 


12,708-6 


4-l,869-5 


CRDCB30?  LUST,  SHAME, 
DTDBCBNCY,  PBBYIRT- 
10)  APPETITES,  ETC. 

ORDER  A.— CASUAL  CRIMES. 

1.- Lustful  Casks. 

Rape  and  carnally  abnaing 
girls  tmder   10  years  of 

•«» 

ABssnlts  with  intent  to  ra 

▼iah  and  eanally  abuse. 
CtmaUy  abnaing  girls  be- 
tween 10  and  12  years  of 

•g» 


Total  Iau^I  Catea     .    . 

2.  Shajb  Casks. 

Concealuig  the  births  of  in- 
ftnts 


88-4 
84-4 

8*6 


0-5 
42*4 


216-6 


4-    42-9 


5-5 
773 


5-0 

8-6 

OH) 
826-71 


840-8 


16S4-4S. 


—  0-9 
_  0*8 

—  0-7 
+  1261 


7-5 
44-5 


82-8 


11,616-6 


52-0 


+  128-7 


+      20 
—    32-8 


11*9 

18-2 

2-7 
214-9 


1844.5S. 


242-7 


6*7 
80-0 


5-4 

91 

0-8 
265-4 


Inereaae 

or 
Deore&M, 


ATerage 
Batiolor 
20  Years. 


—  6-5 

—  4-0 

—  2-4 
+  50*5 


280-2  +     87-5 


6-5 
60-4 


11,0881 


56-7 
82-9 

2-8 


Total  Shame  Caeea,    . 

8.  IxDXCEKT  Casks. 

Indecently    exposing    the 
person 


Total  Indecent  Caets  . 

4.  CiSES      AOAIHST      TBX 

Mabbiaob  Laws. 

Abdnetioii 

Bigamy 


Teial  Caeee  againtt  Mar- 
riage Lowe     .    .    . 


126-4 


29-1 


29-1 


18*6 


142-4 


88-9 


4-   18-8 

—  1-5 

—  0-8 


+   160 


4-     4-8 


67-4 
84-5 

8-9 


88-9 


5-9 


18-6 


1*0 
27-0 


28-0 


5-9 


2-8 
41*9 


44-2 


4-     4-8 


—     7-7 


—     7-7 


t 


155-8 


40-8 


—     80-8 


86*7 


—  588*5 


75-6 
77-2 

2-8 


408 


1-8 
14-9 


+   162 


4-5 


1556 


450 


45-0 


1-4 


+     8-2 

—  7-8 

—  11 


11,808-6 


8-7 

11*1 

1-5, 
240-1 


261*4 


0*21 
19-6 


66-9 


11,842*0 


^  461*6 


—     0-2 


4-     4-7 


4-5 


1-0 
45-4 


1-4 


1-2 
44-9 


46-4 


461 


4-     4-7 


—     8-1 


48-0 
88-5 

8-2 


134-7 


31*5 


—     19  8 


6*6 
70-2 


76-8 


11,572-7 


71-6 
80-8 

8*8 


+  28*6 
—     2 

4-    0-1 


155-7 


42*7 


81-5 


9-6 


42-7 


—     81 


4-    0-2 

—     0-5 


—     0-8 


9-6 


1-7 
84-7 


4-  21  0 


4-   11-2 


59-8 
82-2 

8-2 


145-2 


37-1 


2-8 


4-  11-2 


7*8 


87-1 


2-3  —     7-8 


86-4 


1-1 
451 


46-2 


^     0-6 
4-  10-4 


5*9 


5-9 


1-4 
39-9 


+     9-8 


41-8 


446 


TEE  GBSA.T  WOSLD  OF  JJONDOHf. 


- 

Quinquennial  Batlos  ftom 

Qabtquennial  Batiosfrom 

DeqeBnialBattoeftoB      | 

;       1 

1884-48. 

1844-58. 

1884.M.                 1 

A  MM^.  .  > 

AwnM 

CXIMIS. 

Increase 

Increase 

laenMe 

Battofo 
aojcan. 

1884-88. 

1880-48. 

or 

184M8. 

1849-58. 

or 

1884^48. 

1844-68. 

or 

DeoresM. 

Decrease. 

DeercMe. 

Class  III.— CkmHnmd, 

.     5.   UlTNATUBAL  CaBXS. 

Sodomy  ....... 

16-2 

22-9 

+     6-7 

88-5 

84-9 

+     1-4 

19-7 

82-1 

+  13-0 

1 

Assaults   with    intent    to 

1 

commit 

Total  Unnatural  Cues    . 

45-8 

34-8 

—  11-0 

38-2 

20-8 

—   17-4 

40-1 

80^4 

—     9-7 

85-J 

62-0 

57-7 

—     48 

71-7 

55-7 

—   16-0 

59-8 

68-1 

+    3-8 

61-4 

AU  CamuU  Crimn  c^  Lu$t, 

1 

ShanUf  Indecency,  and 

Perverted  Jppetits    .    . 

2591 

284-1 

+  24-0 

818-6 

808*8 

—  14-8 

2720 

810< 

+  88K) 

29CHI 

ORDER   B.— HABITUAL 

CRIME8. 

1.  Bbothkl  Cases. 

Keeping  disorderly  houses. 

97-4 

106-6 

+    9-2 

66-4 

50-8 

—  16-1 

102-2 

58-2 

—  U-0 

84-(i 

2.  Abobtion  Cases. 

Attempts  to    procure   the 

miscarriage  of  women    . 
AU  Habitual    Crimee    qf 

3-6 

8-8 

—     0-8 

2-0 

4-0 

4-    2-0 

3-5 

4-1 

-i-     0-6 

3-^ 

Lust,  Shame,  Indecency, 

^ 

101-0 

109-9 

+     8-9 

68-4 

54-8 

—  14-1 

1067 

62-8 

—  48-4 

80-^ 

OlftM  IT. 

• 

GBDCES  07  EYIL  SPSAK. 

ING. 

» 

ORDER  MIXED. 

1.   THBEATXMIKa  CaSES. 

threats  to  accuse  of  un- 

natural crimes  •    .    .    . 

*  • 

1-4 

+     1-4 

2-0 

2-7 

-V-     0-7 

0-7 

2-4 

+     1-7 

1-4 

Sending  menacing  letters 

to  extort  money     .    .    . 

11 

2-1 

+     1-0 

2-0 

2-4 

+    0-4 

1-6 

2*2 

+    M 

It 

Ditto  letters  threatening  to 

hum  houses,  &c,  .    .    . 
Total  Threatening  Caeee  . 

62 

8-5 

—     1-7 

41 

15-2 

+  111 

4-8 

9*8 

4-    ft'ft 

!•< 

68 

7-0 

4-     0-7 

8-1 

20-3 

-I-  12-2 

6-6 

14-4 

+     7* 

10-5 

2.  Febjubt  Cases. 

Perjury  and  subornation  oi 

peijiwy 

Total  Perjury  Caeee     .    . 
All  Crimee  itfEvil  Speaking 

17-2 

82-1 

+  14-9 

21-8 

54-0 

4-  32-2 

24-9 

88*3 

+  i«^ 

Slf 

17-2 

821 

-1-  14-9 

21-8 

540 

+   82-2 

24-9 

88-9 

+  13-4 

- 

8H 

28-5 

89-] 

+  15-6 

29-9 

74-8 

+  44*4 

81-5 

52-7 

+  21-2 

42) 

1 

OUm  ▼. 

GEDCBS  OP  POLITICAL 

PREJUDICB. 

1.  Political  Cases. 

High  treason  and  compas- 

sing to  levy  war     .    .    . 

0*0 

1-9 

+     1-9 
4-184-5 

1-4 

0-0 

—     1-4 

1-0 

0*6 

—    0-4 

i>»^ 

Blot,  sedition,  &c.    .    .    . 
Total  PoUtieal  Caeee  .    . 
AR    Crimee  ^  PoUtioai 

0-0 

184-5 

80-0 

0-8 

—  29-7 

95-8 

14-a 

—  80-5 

»         5»f 

0-0 

186-4 

-1-186  4 

81-4 

0-8 

—  811 

96-8 

1»*4 

--80il 

(         »*^ 

j 

Pr^udiee 

0-0 

186-4 

+  186-4 

81-4 

0-8 

—  811 

96*8 

15-4 

—  80-9 

M-«- 

HOTJSB  OP  COBBBCTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


447 


SUHMABT  OF  THE  PBBCEDING  TABLES. 
A. — Casuax  Gbocbs. 


Obimss. 

Qninqaensial  Ratios  fkom 
1884-48. 

Quinqosanial  Ratios  from 
1844-58. 

Deoeonial  Ratios  from 
1834-88. 

ATtrage 
Katiofor 
iO  years. 

1884-88. 

188M8. 

Inoreftse 

or 
Deoretse. 

18ii.48. 

1848^. 

Inorease 

or 
Decrease. 

1884-48. 

1844-68. 

Inorease 

or 
Decrease. 

CLASS  L-GASUAL 

CRIMES  OF  FEBOGITT 

AND  MALICE. 

1.  Murderous  cases   .    .    . 
2L  Homicidal  and  Assault 

cases 

3.  Anon  cases 

L  DestroctiTe  cases  .    .    . 

MOuuaiCHmaofFerodty 
andMaUem 

CLASS  H.-CASUAL 

CRIMES  OF  CUPIDITY 

AND  TEMPTATION. 

I.  Breach  of  trust  cases     . 

AU  Qumai  Cnme$  of  CW- 
gn£iy  and  TemptcOUm    , 

CLASS  III.-CA8UAL 

CRIMES  OF  LUST, 

SHAME,  INDECENCT, 

&C. 

1.  Lnstftil  cases    .... 
e.  Shame  cases    .... 
8.  Indecent  cases .... 
1  Cases  against  Marriage 

Laws 

bu  Unnatural  cases   .    .    . 

Attihmud  CrimesofLiut, 
Shame,     Indeeency,   and 
PerverUd  Appetite .    .    . 

TotcdofaU  Oasual  Crmee  . 

163-4 

1,385-1 
43-6 
20-0 

199-1 

1,219-3 
40-3 
40-3 

+    85-7 

-  166-8 

-  8-3 
+    20-3 

197-4 

1,012-0 
86-3 
17-7 

206-6 

808-4 

107-8 

211 

+     8-1 

-208-6 
+    21-5 
+     8-4 

181-9 

1,299*4 
41-7 
30-4 

201-6 

684-6 
97-3 
18-9 

+    197 

-  614-8 
+    66-6 

-  11-6 

191-6 

992-0 
69-6 
24-6 

1,6121 

■ 

967-9 

1,499*0 
1,437-9 

-  1131 
+  480-0 

1,313-4 
1,427-2 

1,187-8 
1,426-1 

-  176-6 

-  21 

1,663-7 
1,216-1 

1,002-4 
1,426*4 

-  661-3 
+  210-3 

1,2077 
1,821-2 

»67-9 

126-4 
29-1 
18-6 

28-0 
62-0 

1,437-9 

142-4 

83-9 

6-9 

44-2 
67-7 

+  480i) 

+    16-0 

+     4-8 

-  7-7 

+    16-2 

-  4-3 

1,427-2 

166-8 

40*3 

4*6 

46-4 

71-7 

1,426-1 

166-6 

46-0 

1-4 

46-1 
66-1 

-  2-1 

-  0-2 
+     4-7 

-  31 

-  0-3 

-  16-6 

1,2161 

1347 

81-5 

9-6 

36-4 
69-8 

1,426-4 

1667 

427 

2-3 

46-^ 
68-1 

+  210-3 

+    21-0 
+    11-2 
-     7-3 

+     9-8 
+      3-3 

1,821-2 

146-2 

87-1 

6-9 

41-3 
61-4 

269-1 

284-1 

+    260 

318-7 

303-2 

-    16-6 

272-0 

310-0 

+    38-2 

290-9 

2,829-1 

3,221-0 

+  891-9 

3,069-2 

2,866-6 

-192-2 

3,041-6 

2,738-8 

-  3027 

2,819-8 

B.— Habitual  Cbimbs. 


Caxms. 

Quinqoennial  Ratios  from 
1884-48. 

QuiaflMnnial  Batios  from 
^    1844-68. 

Deceuilal  Ratios  from 
1884-58. 

Average 
Katiofor 
20  years. 

1884-88. 

1889-43. 

laoreaae 

or 
Decrease. 

1844-48. 

1849^3. 

Increase 

or 
Decrease. 

1884-48. 

1844.58. 

Inorease 

or 
Decrease. 

CLASS    I.— HABITUAL 
CRIMES   OF    FERO- 
CITY AND  MAUCE. 

L  Barf laiy  cases.    .    .    . 

2.  High  way-robbery  cases 

3.  Piracy  cases    .... 

4.  8mii«1ing  cases  .    .    . 

5.  Poaching  cases     .    .    . 

6.  Eseapaa  from    custody 

683-1 

263-1 

0-2 

6-9 

777 

13-1 

967-3 

274*4 

2-9 

8-6 

79-6 

16-9 

+    284-2 
+      11-3 
+        27 
1-3 
+        1*9 

+        3-8 

7787 

230-6 

4-0 

•04 

66-6 

14-8 

801*3 

286*3 

-02 

1-6 

80*0 

14*3 

f 

+      22*6 
+      64-7 
-      3*98 
+      1*64 
+      11-4 

0-6 

k880-0 

269-0 

1-6 

47 

78-6 

161 

790-3 

268-4 

2-0 

0-9 

73-6 

14-6 

-  897 

-  10*6 
+        0*4 

-  3*8 

-  6*1 

-  0*^ 

801*1 

2637 

18 

2*8 

71-0 

14*8 

ABHahUmdOnmeeofEi' 

rodiy  4U»d  MaUce  •    .    . 

1,043*1 

1,3447 

+    301-6 

1,09474 

1,182*62 

+    87*78 

1,199-0 

1,139*6 

-      69-4 

1,166-2 

448 


THE  ttEEAT  WORLD  OP  LOKDOBT . 


SUMMARY  OF  THE  PRECEDING  TABLES. 
B. — Habitual  Gbxmbs — Continued, 


Quinquennial  Batios  from 
1884^. 

Qoinqoflnuial  Batioa  tnm 
1844.58. 

Decennial  BatktBftvm       1 
18M.5S.                   1 

Batislir 

CnnoB, 

1884^. 

1889.48. 

Increase 

or 
Decrease. 

184^.48. 

1840.58. 

Increase 

or 
Decrease. 

1884.48. 

1844.58. 

1 

or 
Deereaae. 

1 

CLASS  II. -HABITUAL 
CRIMES  OF  CUPIDI- 
TY &  TEMPTATION. 

« 

« 

1 

1.  Cattle  stealingandsimi- 

lar  cases 

2.  Larceny  cases  .    .    .    . 

3.  Petty-  cases 

4.  Receiving  cases    .    .    . 

5.  Forgeiy  cafes  .... 

6.  Coming  cases  .    .    .    . 

7.  Other  felony  and  mis- 

demeanonr  cases    .    . 

AU  ffabitual  Orimfof  Cu- 
pidity and  Temptation    . 

3331 

9,400-9 

56-6 

742-7 

2-4 

235-9 

64-5 

381-4 

10,974-4 

94-1 

889-4 

8-0 

248-9 

107-4 

+      48-3 
+ 15,78-5 
+      87-6 
+    146-7 
+        5-6 
+      14-7 

+      41-9 

264-9 

10,199-4 

106-0 

745-2 

1-7 
216-6 

82-8 

219-7 

9,568-3 

89-0 

805-9 

7-9 

340-3 

52-0 

+ 
+ 
+ 

45-2 

631-1 

17-0 

69-7 

6-2 

123-7 

30-8 

8M-1 

10,214-1 

76-1 

818-6 

7-3 

242-7 

86-7 

241-7- 
9^74-9  - 

97-3  + 

776-5- 

4-5- 

280-2  + 

66-9- 

116^ 

339-2 

21-2 

42-1 

2-7 

19^ 

10i044^' 

86T 

797^ 

76'^ 

10,834-1 

12,703-6 

+ 1,869-5 

11,616-6 

11,083-1 

— 

583-5 

11,803-6 

liM2rO 

— 

461i6 

ii,57'>: 

CLASS  IIL-HABITUAL 
CRIMES    OF     LUST, 
SHAME,  INDECENCY 

&C. 

1.  Keeping  disorderly 

houses 

2.  Abortion  cases.    .    .    . 

Aa  ffahitudl  Crimeso/Lutty 
,  Shame,    Indeeeney,   and 
*  Perverted  Appetites     .    . 

TotalofaU  Habitual  Crimet 

97-4 
3-6 

106-6 
3-3 

+       9-2 
0-3 

66-4 
2-0 

50-3 
4-0 

+ 

16-1 
2-0 

102-2 
3-5 

58-2 
4-1 

+ 

J 

44-0'       m 
0-6           J^ 

101-0 

109-9 

+       8-3 

68-4 

54*8 

_ 

14-1 

105-7 

62-3 

•1 
4S-4         84i 

11,978-2 

14^158-2 

+  2,180-0 

12,779-7 

12,319-9 

- 

459-8 

!  13,108*3 

1 

12,543-9 

- 

564^4    USllI^ 

SUMMARY  OF  MIXED  CRIMES. 

Canun. 

Qninqnennial  Ratios  from 
1884.48. 

Qoinqnennial  Ratios  trom. 
1844.58. 

Decennial  Ratios  flran 
1884.58. 

1884.88. 

1889.43. 

Increase 

or 
Decrease. 

1 
1844.48. 

1849.58. 

Increase 

or 
Decrease. 

1884.48. 

1844-53. 

lac 
Dec 

TCttse  . 

cr 

Avenge 

RattoW- 

CLASS  IV.-CRlMES  OF 
EVIL  SPEAKING. 

1.  Threatening  cases    .    . 

2.  Perjury  cases  .... 

All  Caaet  of  EvU  Speak- 
«V 

CLASS  V.-CRIMES  OF 
POLITICAL  PREJU- 
DICE. 

Political  cases 

JUOaeeeqfPolUieal  Pre- 
judice   

Total  qf  all  Mixed  Oimee 

Gross  Total  ofaU  O-tmes 

6-3 
17-2 

7-0 
821 

+      0-7 
+    14-9 

8-1 
21-8 

20-3 

54-0 

+     12-2 
+    32-2 

6-6 
24-9 

144 
88-3 

+ 
+ 

t 

7-8 
13-4 

1(^* 

81* 

23-6 
0-0 

391 
186-4 

.+     15-6 
+  186-4 

29-9 
31-4 

74-3 
0-8 

+    44-4 
-    81-1 

81-5 
96-3 

52-7 
15-4 

+ 

21-2 

80-9 

4^1 

1 

OK) 

186- 

+  186-4 

31-4 

0-3 

-    31-1 

968 

1 
15-4J  - 

»9 

t 
1 

23-5 

225-5 

+  202-0 

61-3 

74-6 

+    18-8 

127-8 

68-l|- 

'     9r-si 

1                : 

14,832-8 

17,6047 

+  2,771-9 

15,850-8 

15,261-2 

-  649-7 

16,277'6 

15,850« 

- 

9»9 

r2w 

HB&TIKO  APPARITDS  AT  THE  CITY  FKISOX,  ROLLOWAT. 


LIFTIXG  AFPABATUS  FOR  SERYINQ  THC  DINNER  AT  TIIE  aiY  PBISON,  HOLLOWAT. 


:l 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


449 


GENEEAL  SUMHAET. 


CLASS  I. 

CHIMES  OF  FEEOCITT 
AND  MALICE. 

Camu] 

Habitiua 


Totai 


CLASS  IL 

CBIMES  OF  CUPIDITY 
ASD  TEMPTATION. 

Canud 

iUbituil 


Total 


CLASS  m. 

CRIMES  OF  LUST, 
SHAME,  INDECEXCT, 

Cuxul 

Habitual 


Total 


QninqiMiniiAl  Rattoi  ttom. 
1834^3. 


1SM48. 


1,612-1 
1,043*1 


2fi66'2 


967-9 
10,834-1 


11,792-0 


CLASS  IV. 

CBIMES  OF  EYIL- 

SPEAKING. 

CLASS  y. 

CHIMES  OF  POLITICAL 
FBEJUDICE. 

ALL  CLASSES  OF 
CRIMES. 

Casual 

Habitual 

Mixed 


.dUCrinug 


369-1 
101-01 


1839^. 


1,499-0 
1,3447 


2,843-7 


1,487-9  + 
12,708-6 


14,141-5 


860-1 


23-6 


0-0 


2,829-1 

11,978-2 

23-6 


14,830-8 


2841 
109-9 


393-0 


89-1 


186-4 


Inoreaw 

or 
Deoreaae. 


-    1131 
+    301-6 


+    188-5 


480-Oi 
+  1,869-6 


QQinovmnlal  Batioa  from 
1844-58. 


+  2;849-5 


+ 
+ 


26-0 
8-9 


8,221-0 

14,158-2 

226-6 


17,604-7 


+      33-9 


+     16-6 


+    186-4 


+  891-9 
+  2,180-0 
+    202-0 


+  2,773-9 


1844-48. 


1,813-4 
1,094-74 


2,408-14 


1,427-2 
11,616-6 


18,048-8 


3187 
68-4 


387-1 


29-9 


31-4 


1848-58. 


1,187-8 
1,182-62 


2,320-82 


—  87-82 


1,426*1 
11,088-1 


13,608-2 


803-2 
64-8 


867-6 


74-3 


0-3 


3,069-8 

12,7797 

61-8 


15,900-3 


Inoreaw 

or 
Deereaie. 


—  176-6 
+   8778 


2-1 
688-6 


636-6 


16-6 
14-1 


—    29-6 


+     44-4 


—     31-1 


2,866*1  —  193-2 


12,319-9 
74-6 


15,250-6 


—  459-8 
+     13-3 


—  666-3 


Daoennial  Batioa  from 
1884-08. 


1884-48. 


1,6637 
1,199-0 


2,762-7 


1,216-1 

11,808-6 


18,0197 


272-0 
1067 


3777 


81-6 


96-3 


8,041-6 

13,108-8 

127-8 


16,277-6 


1844^. 


1,002-4 
1,189-6 


2,142-0 


—  610-7 


1,426-4 
11,842-0 


12,768-4 


810-0 
62-3 


372-3 


627 


16-4 


Inereaae 

or 
Decrease. 


661-8 
69-4 


+   210-3 
-  461*6 


—  261-8 


+     38-2 
—     48-4 


—       6-6 


+     21-2 


—     80-9 


2,788-8 

12,643-9 

68-1 


16,360-8 


302-8 

664-4 

59-7 


—  926-9 


ATcrage 
Ratio  for 
20  7ear8. 


1,2077 
1,166-2 


2,862*9 


1,321-2 
11,6727 


12,893*9 


290-9 
84-0 


874-9 
421 

66-8 


2,819-8 

12,811*9 

97-9 


16,729-6 


Now,  the  preceding  table  shows  the  following  general  results  (drawn  from  an  ayerage  of 
the  last  twenty  years)  as  regards  the  nnmber  of  offenders  annually  committed  for  tiial 
throughout  'RTig^«»«^  and  Wales: — 

Mrst,  wUh  reaped  to  the  different  clauee  oferminak,  wejind — 

1.  There  are  15*7  criminals,  of  aJl  kinds,  to  every  10,000  of  our  population. 

2.  Not  less  than  12*8  of  these  15*7  individuals  belong  to  the  hoMuai  dan  of 
offenders,  or  those  who  make  a  regular  trade  of  crime,  whilst  2*8  appertain  to  the 
eatml  chis,  and  barely  1  to  the  mixed  ehee. 

S^condfyf  with  rettpeet  to  the  increase  or  decrease  of  the  different  dosses  ofcriminak,  weperceiv&^^ 

1.  There  has  been  a  slight  decrease  of  the  whole  during  the  last  decenniad, 

though  this  decrease  amounts  to  a  reduction  of  only  0*9  in  the  ratio,  so  that  little  or 

no  impression  appears  to  have  been  made  upon  the  criminal  tendencies  of  the  people 

by  all  our  late  educational  and  reformatory  movements. 

38« 


450  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

2.  The  habitual  class  of  criminals  has  decreased  0*5  in  the  course  of  the  la&t  ten 
years,  the  casual  criminals  0'3,  and  the  mixed  0*05. 

I%trdhf,  eanc&ming  the  aev^tU  kinds  of  orme  of  which  the  various  classes  of  criminals  ore 
accused,  it  toiU  he  seen — 

1.  Out  of  the  before-mentioned  ratio  of  15*7  criminals  to  every  10,000  of  our 
people,  no  less  than  12*89  are  committed  for  crimes  of  <' cupidity  and  temptation" 
(such  as  theft,  fraud,  forgery,  coining,  &c.);  whilst  as  many  as  11-57  of  these 
belong  to  the  habitual  class  of  thieves,  and  only  1  '32  to  the  casual  ditto. 

2.  There  are  2-36  in  every  10,000  of  the  population  who  are  annually  chained 
with  crimes  of  **  ferocity  and  malice ;"  and  of  these  one-half  belong  to  the  casual,  and 
the  other  half  to  the  habitual  class  of  offenders. 

3.  There  are,  on  the  other  hand,  only  0'd7  individuals  per  10,000  of  the  people 
charged  every  year  with  crimes  of  lust,  shame,  indecency,  &c.,  of  whom  0-29  belong 
to  the  casual  class,  and  only  0*08  to  the  habitual. 

4.  The  remai^^ing  0*09  (out  of  the  15*7  criminals  of  all  classes)  are  annually 
accused  of  crimes  of  evil-speaking  (such  as  threatening,  or  fiedse  swearing),  or  of 
political  prejudice  (as  high  treason,  riot,  &c.) 

Fourthfy,  as  regards  the  increase  or  decrease  of  the  several  hnds  of  crime ,  we  may  observe — 

1.  Whilst  all  classes  of  criminals  have  decreased  0*9  in  each  10,000  of  the  people, 
those  annually  accused  of  the  casual  crimes  of  *'  ferocity  and  malice"  have  decreased, 
during  the  last  ten  years,  to  the  extent  of  0*5;  the  main  reduction  having  taken 
place  in  the  homicidal  and  assault  cases,  whereas  a  slight  increase  has  ensued  in  the 
more  serious,  murderous,  and  arson  cases.  Those,  however,  indulging  in  the  hahihtal 
crimes  of  ferocity  and  malice  (such  as  burglary,  highway  robbery,  &c.)  have  also 
experienced  a  slight  diminution — equal  to  0*06  in  each  10,000  of  the  population. 

2.  Those  accused  of  the  casual  crimes  of  ''cupidity  and  temptation"  (such  s» 
larceny  by  servants,  embezzlement,  forging  of  cheques  or  bills,  stealing  post  letters, 
or  goods  in  the  process  of  manufacture)  have  increased  to  altogether  2  in  every 
10,000  of  the  people — the  greater  proportion  of  this  increase  having  occurred  among 
servants  accused  of  larceny.  Those  committed,  however,  for  the  habUuail  crimes  of 
the  some  class  have  experienced  a  small  decrease  among  their  numbers,  including, 
more  particularly,  the  crimes  of  cattle,  horse,  and  sheep  stealing,  as  well  as  that  of 
simple  larceny ;  whilst  the  crimes  of  larceny  from  the  person,  and  in  a  dwelling- 
house,  as  well  as  misdemeanours,  and  frtiuds,  and  uttering  base  coin,  have,  more  or 
less,  increased — ^the  greatest  augmentation  being  among  the  perpetrations  of  the  pro- 
fessional pickpockets. 

3.  Those  accused  of  the  ^dWtfo/ crimes  of ''  lust,  shame,  and  indecency,"  have  likewise 
increased  to  a  small  amount,  viz.,  0*03  in  each  10,000  of  the  population — ^the  largest 
addition  having  occurred  among  those  annually  charged  with  rape,  sodomy,  Ac. ; 
whilst  the  crimes  of  concealment  of  birth  and  bigamy  have  aU  suffered  a  tziffing 
extension  of  the  ratio.  With  the  habitual  crimes  of  the  same  class,  such  as  bnydiel- 
keeping  and  procuring  abortion,  there  has  been  a  trifling  diminution. 

4.  The  crimes  of  "  evil-speaking"  show  no  decrease  whatever ;  indeed,  the  numbers 
charged  with  using  threats,  in  order  to  extort  money,  have  more  than  doubled  them- 
selves within  the  last  ten  years ;  and  those  accused  of  perjury  have  likewise  increased 
considerably — ^more  than  50  per  cent. 

5.  Crimes  of  **  political  prejudice"  (such  as  high  treason  and  sedition),  on  the  ofiier 
hand,  have  diminished  as  much  as  those  of  evil-speaking  have  augmented  among  us^ 

After  the  above  exposition  of  the  several  kinds  of  crime  and  classes  of  criminalsy  it  15. 
perhaps,  needless  to  recur  to  the  fallacj^  that  crime  fluctuates  with  the  varying  prosperity 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


451 


of  our  people.  To  place  the  matter,  howeyer,  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  we  have 
drawn  up  the  following  diagram,  in  which  the  annual  alterations  in  tiie  ratio  of  criminals 
to  the  population  admit  of  being  readily  compared  with  the  variations  in  the  average  price 
of  com  for  a  series  of  years,  which  is  sufficiently  long  to  enable  us  to  see  whether  there  be 
any  truth  or  not  in  the  principle : — 

TEABS.    ' 


Kamb«r  of      ^ 

Criminals  to   IS34.  85.     86 
ewry  10.000  of 
the  Population. 


87.      88.      89.      40.      41.     43.      43.      44.     45.      46.      47.     43. 


— '  Averase  Price 
49.       of  Corn 
in  Shillings, 
per  Quarter. 

.    ...      5 


..    80 

5 

..    70 


»  •  •        •  ■ 


60 


...  V 

...  50 

...  6 

...  40 


DIAeBAM   SHOWING   THE   BELATIVE   FLUCTUATIONS  IN   THE   PBICE   OF   COKN   AND   THE   &ATIO 

OP  CBIHINALS   TO   THE   POPUULTION,    FROM   THE   YEAR   1834   TO    1849. 

( The  dotted  line  indicates  the  price  of  corn,  and  the  black  line  the  ratio  of  oriminality.) 

Here  it  will  be  seen  that  in  the  year  1842,  when  the  ratio  of  criminals  was  as  high  as  19  J 
to  every  10,000  of  the  people,  com  was  comparatively  low  in  price ;  for  though  it  had  been 
nearly  70*.  the  quarter  in  1839,  it  had  gradually  fallen  to  less  than  60*.  in  1842.  During 
the  same  period,  however,  crime  had  been  as  gradually  rising,  having  been  only  15|  in  1839, 
and,  as  we  said,  19^  in  1842. 

Again,  in  the  year  1845,  when  the  ratio  of  criminals  had  sunk  to  less  than  14^  in  every 
10,000  of  the  population,  com  had  been  gradually  rising  from  1843,  and  had  again  reached 
the  same  price  as  it  was  in  1842.  Further,  in  1847  com  had  risen  to  the  very  high  price  of 
85*.  the  quarter,  and  yet  crime  in  the  same  year  was  comparatively  low — ^the  ratio  being 
then  but  15*8  per  10,000  people. 

Thus,  then,  we  find  that  when  in  1842  crime  was  very  high,  the  price  of  com  was 
moderatdy  low;  whilst  in  1847,  when  com  was  dear,  crime  was  comparatively  rare 
among  us.* 

•  We  subjoin  the  ratio  of  criminalfl  throughout  England  and  Wales  to  eyery  10,000  people  during  the 
last  twenty  years:— 


No.  or  CaiMivALa 

TKAma.                                     PKB  10,000  Pboplk. 

1884          ....         16-5 

1835 

141 

1836 

140 

1837 

15-6 

1838 

151 

1839 

15-7 

1840 

17-2 

1841 

17-4 

1842 

19-3 

1843 

181 

Annual  m< 

)an    . 

% 

161 

No.  OV  CUKXICAUI 

YrARS.                                                               PJBa  10»000  PSOPLK. 

1844 160 

1845 

• 

14-4 

1846 

14-7 

1847 

15*8 

1848 

17-4 

1849 

15-8 

1850 

151 

1851 

15-5 

1852 

151 

1853 

14-7 

Annual  n 

leaxi 

31-3 

452  THE  GBEAT  ^OKLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  ntmiber  of  able-bodied  paupers  relieyed  throughoat  England  and  Wales  for  a  aeries 
of  years  would  show  the  same  results.  Indeedi  the  only  rational  condusiQn  to  be  aniTed 
at---and  it  is  the  one  to  which  we  haye  oome  after  testing  statistically,  we  repeat,  almost 
erery  theory  on  the  subject  that  has  been  propounded—- is,  that  the  great  mass  of  crime  is  a 
trade  and  profession  among  us,  and  that  those  forms  of  dishonesty  which  make  up  neaily 
four-fifths  of  the  delinquencies  of  the  country  are  practised  as  a  means  of  living  by  certain 
classes,  as  regularly  as  honesty  is  pursued  for  the  same  purpose  by  others.* 

Nor  can  we  explain  the  continual  existence  of  so  large  an  amount  of  iniquity  in  the 
land,  other  than  by  the  fact  of  the  offenders  being  regularly  bom  and  bred  to  the  business. 
Not  only  in  our  juyenile  prisons  do  we  see  the  future  bandits  and  ultimate  conyicts  of  the 
country,  but  we  see  also  the  bitter  results  of  the  State's  gross  neglect  of  its  parental  duties 
to  the  outcast  and  destitute  children  among  us.  Twist  and  turn  the  question  as  we  may, 
we  shall  find  at  length — if  we  come  to  the  matter  really  willing  to  fathom  and  eager  to 
embrace  the  truth  of  this  most  yital  problem — that  hahitual  crime  is  purely  the  conse- 
quence of  want  of  proper  fatherly  care  to  the  young ;  and  this  is  demonstrated  to  us  by 
the  fact,  that  in  those  countries  where  the  education  of  all  children  is  enforced  by  law,  and 
the  young  are  thus  made  to  pass  the  principal  part  of  their  time  under  the  eyes  of  a  teacher 
and  adyiser — ^if  not  a  guardian  and  a  friend — ^the  national  records  show  a  less  comparatiTe 
amount  of  crime  than  in  those  nations  where  the  youthful  poor,  as  with  us,  are  allowed  to 
remain  gambolling  as  well  as  gambling  all  the  day  in  the  gutter  with  fellow-idlerB  and 
profiigates,  if  not  thieyes.  This  is  the  sole  reason  to  be  cited  why  in  HoUand  and  Pmssia, 
and  eyen  Catholic  Belgium,  there  are  less  criminals,  in  proportion  to  the  population,  than 
with  us;  for  though  the  teaching  of  reading  and  writing  in  our  prisons  is  shown  by 
figures  to  be  almost  unayailing  as  a  means  of  r^ormation — and  eyen  reformation  itself  to  be 
extremely  difficult,  unless  accompanied  with  expatriation  and  the  consequent  remoyal  of  the 
young  offender  firom  the  intercourse  and  temptations  of  his  former  associates — neyertheless, 
by  a  large  system  of  national  education,  the  destitute  and  outcast  children  of  the  land 
would  be  rescued  from  idleness  and  the  pollution  of  the  streets,  and  would  pass  the  greater 
part  of  their  time  in  connection  with  those  whose  express  duty  it  would  be  to  counsel  and 
train  them  to  industry  and  yirtue. 

Again,  therefore,  we  say  we  haye  littie  fbith  in  prison  teaching,  or  eyen  national 
reformatories,  as  a  means  of  decreasing  the  offenders  of  the  country.  Crime,  in  its  habitual 
form,  seems  to  us  as  radically  incurable  as  lock-jaw  or  confirmed  consumption,  or  the  kindred 
disease  known  as  nolume'tan^ere.  The  only  hope  is  to  prevent  juyenile  delinquency ;  and  as 
eyen  the  cholera  itself  can  be  warded  off  by  due  yentilation  and  cleanliness — being  but  a 
physical  scourge  firom  the  Almighty,  in  punishment  for  the  national  neglect  of  tiie  dwellings 
and  comforts  of  the  poor — so  is  crime  but  a  moral  pestilence,  ordained  by  (3od  to  rouse  us  to 
our  duty  to  those  wretched  little  actual  or  yirtual  orphans,  whom,  for  some  inscrutable 
reason,  He  has  willed  to  begin  life  as  outcasts  among  us.f 

*  This  is  fiiriher  prayed  by  the  laige  proportioa  ot  ^^Jbiown"  offenders  who  are  re-eonmiitted  to  oar 
priaoDs  bk  the  course  of  the  year.  We  haye  before  shown  (see  table,  p.  410)  that  theae  oonstitats^  at  leait* 
one-qouter  of  the groas prison  population;  so  that,  sapposing  the  "not  ktioum'*  habitoal ofiendsD  eoa- 
fined  in  our  prisons  to  be  only  as  numerans  as  the  "knomn"  ones,  it  is  obyions  that  one-half  of  ov 
oriminals  are  regular  jail-birds,  to  whom  theft  Is  a  bosiness,  and  the  prison  a  refuge. 


t  We  cannot  oondnde  this  account  of  the  juyenile  prison  and  juyenile  prisoners  at  Tothill  Fields  wifh- 
ont  drawing  attention  once  more  to  the  &ct,  that  the  criminal  period  of  life  appears  to  be  between  fifteen  waA 
twenty-fiye  years  of  age— the  time,  as  we  haye  aaid,  when  the  will  comes  to  be  deyeloped,  and  has  not  yet 
leazntto  be  guided  and  controlled  by  thereason.  At  page  117,  while  treating  of  PentonyiUeprieon,  wepoiaied 
out  the  circumstance  that  567  prisoners  in  eyery  100  were  between  seyenteen  and  twenty-ftye  years  of  age. 
And  again,  at  page  877,  in  the  table  ahowing  the  per  centage  of  juyenile  offimders  througliout  £agiind  and 
Wales,  we  ahowed  that  only  10*16  in  erery  100  persona  were  (aoooxding  to  the  ayerage  of  the  laattiurtacB 
yeaza)  nnder  seyenteen,  and  as  many  as  89*86  per  oent  aboye  that  age;  whereas  the  last  osbmos  reCoras 


HOUSE  OP  COEEECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


453 


Of  the  FmaU  JPrwm  at  TothiU  Fields^  and  Female  Prmnen  generaUy. 

From  the  juyenile  prison  at  WestminBter,  and  the  consideration  of  juyenile  crime  in  the 
abstract,  vfQ  pass  to  the  female  portion  of  the  same  institntion,  as  well  as  to  the  more 
general  subject  of  crime  among  women. 

prore  that  the  ee&teaimal  proportion  of  all  clasaee  of  pevaons  of  the  same  ages  is  as  39-2  to  60*8 ;  so  that 
whilst  tlie  juvenile  offimden  are  nearly  30  per  cent  below  the  ratio  of  the  entire  population,  the  adult 
prisoners  are  nearly  the  same  amount  aboTo  it. 

This  fact  had  long  ago  been  noticed  by  Mr.  Bedgraye  in  the  Gtoyernment  returns.  ^'  The  comparison  of 
the  ages  of  offanders,  with  the  population  of  the  same  age/'  said  that  gentleman  in  the  year  1842,  ''shows 
the  great  proportion  of  offenders  between  the  age  of  fifteen  and  twenty-flye  years,  and  how  rapidly  that 
proportion  declines  after  the  age  of  thirty,  becoming  less  than  the  proportion  in  the  general  population  after 
forty,  and  fiUhng  suddenly  off  at  each  period,  on  passing  that  age."  "  It  has  been  ahown,"  he  added  in  the 
next  year's  report,  *'  by  the  calculations  prefixed  to  former  tables,  that  the  centesimal  proportion  of  the  ages 
of  offenders  in  the  soyen  years  ending  with  1841,  had  not  yaried  aboye  1  per  cent,  in  any  one  of  the  periods 
under  which  the  ages  had  been  classed.  In  1842  this  classification  was  altered  to  assimilate  it  to  the  quin- 
quennial classification  adopted  in  the  general  census ;  but  by  this  change  the  comparison  with  the  preyious 
years  was  lost."  Hence  the  tables  of  the  ages  of  those  committed  for  trial  do  not  extend  yery  far  back,  nor 
haye  they  been  continued  of  late  years  ;  neyertheless,  those  already  printed  funiish  us  with  a  sufficiently 
large  series  of  years  to  establish  the  law,  that  the  great  mass  of  crime  in  this  countiy  is  committed  by  young 
mm — those,  in  &ct,  who,  haying  passed  their  apprenticeship  as  juyenile  offenders,  haye  entered  upon  their 
habitual  career — *'  the  duration  of  which,"  says  Mr.  Bedgraye,  "  may  bo  inferred  from  the  rapidly-decreasing 
proportions  which  those  aboye  forty  years  of  age  bear  to  the  population  at  the  same  period  of  life." 

In  the  tables  of  1848  we  haye  the  last  returns  as  to  the  ages  of  those  committed  for  trial,  and  here  we 
find  it  stated  that  <*  the  ages  of  criminals  had  for  several  years  progressiyely  shown  an  increased  proportion  of 
the  younger  criminali.  The  apparent  sudden  decrease,  last  year,  of  offenders  under  the  ages  of  fifteen,  must 
be  attributed  to  the  operation  of  the  statute  10  and  11  Vie.,  c.  82,  passed  in  July,  1847,  which  empowers 
justices  to  punish  summarily  for  simple  larceny  offenders  whose  ages  do  not  exceed  fourteen  years,  thus 
remoying  many  of  such  cases  from  the  criminal  tables,  in  which  they  had  preyiously  appeared  as  indictable 
offences" — but  corre^ondingly  increasing  the  summary  conyictions.  "  The  relatiye  state  of  the  commitments, 
with  respect  to  the  ages  of  the  criminals,  is  clearly  exhibited  in  the  subjoined  table,  which  giyes  the  relatiye 
proportion  of  accused  per  100  committed,  and  is  not  disturbed  by  the  fluctuations  in  the  absolute  numbers 
sent  for  trial.  From  this  table  it  appears  that  nearly  one-half  the  commitments  in  1848  were  of  persona 
between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and  twenty-fiye. 


Ages. 

Centeiimal  Proportion  in  the  Yean. 

1842. 

1843. 

1844. 

1845. 

1846. 

6-5 

24-5 

23-3 

14-6 

16-8 

8-4 

3-4 

1-8 

1-7 

1847. 

1848. 

Oenras 
of  1841. 

Aged  under  15  years 

„     16  and  under  20  years   . 

„    20         „        25     „      . 

„    25         „        80     „      . 

n     80          „        40      „       . 

„     40          „        60      „       . 

»     «0          „        60      „      . 

„    60  years  and  aboye 
Ages  not  ascertained 

5-3 

220 

24-7 

15-3 

16-8 

8-3 

3-8 

1-8 

20 

5-7 

22-7 

24-3 

14-9 

16-4 

81 

8-6 

1-9 

2-6 

6-0 

23*3 

241 

14-9 

16-3 

8-3 

8-9 

20 

2-2 

6-4 

241 

24*2 

14-3 

16-6 

8-2 

3-6 

1-7 

1-9 

61 

24-2 

230 

14-7 

16-7 

8-6 

3-6 

1-8 

1-4 

3-6 

23*8 

26-2 

164 

16*8 

8-6 

3-4 

1-7 

1-5 

36-0 
9-9 
9-7 
80 

12-9 
9-6 
6-4 
7-2 
0-^ 

Thus,  then,  we  perceiye  that  whilst  the  proportion  of  offenders  under  fifteen  years  and  over  forty  is  far 
below  those  of  the  ratio  for  the  entire  population  of  the  country,  the  proportion,  on  the  other  hand,  of  the 
offenders  ahove  fifteen  and  under  forty  is  considerably  aboye  it  In  the  year  1848,  for  instance,  those  between 
fifteen  and  twenty-fiye  years  of  age  who  were  sent  for  trial  made  up  exactly  49  per  cent,  of  the  whole  com- 
mitments ;  whereas,  according  to  the  census  returns,  there  are  only  19*6  per  cent,  of  persons  of  that  ago 
throughout  the  country,  whilst  those  between  twenty-fiye  and  forty  years  old  constituted  32*2  per  cent  of  the 
gross  oommittals,  and  only  20*9  per  cent,  of  the  entire  population,    Aboye  forty,  howeyer,  the  proportions 


454 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


As  a  body,  women  are  considerably  less  criminal  than  men.  We  know  not  whether  this 
be  due  to  the  fact  of  the  female  nature  being  more  kindly  or  less  daring  than  that  of  tibe 
male ;  but  so  it  is — ^the  returns  of  the  country,  for  a  long  series  of  years,  showing  that  in 
every  100  prisoners  there  are  but  some  20  odd  women;  so  that  males  would  appear  to 
be,  at  least,  four  times  more  yicious  than  females ;  for,  according  to  the  tables  in  the 
census,  there  is  a  greater  proportion  of  the  latter  than  the  former  in  the  country;  and 
therefore,  if  the  criminal  tendencies  were  equal  in  either  sex,  our  criminal  records  should 
exhibit  a  greater  number  of  women  than  men  annually  accused  of  crime. 

Moreover,  if  it  could  be  possible  to  obtain  accurate  returns  as  to  the  number  of  **  public 
women"  throughout  the  country,  it  would  be  found  that  by  £ar  the  greater  proportion  of 
the  female  offenders  is  derived  from  that  class ;  and  thus  it  would  be  proven,  that  among  the 
chaste  portion  of  the  female  sex  crime  is  comparatively  unknown. 

There  would  appear,  then,  to  be,  generally  speaking,  but  one  great  vice  appertaining  to 
the  gentler  sex,  viz.,  prostitution ;  and  the  reason  of  this  would  seem  to  be  two-fold.  The 
great  mass  of  crime  in  the  country  we  have  shown,  by  an  analysis  of  the  Oovemment 
returns,  to  be  pursued  regularly  as  a  means  of  subsistence  by  criminals.  Hence,  what 
thefk  is  to  the  evil-disposed  among  men,  street-walking  is  to  the  same  class  among  women— 
an  easy  mode  of  living ;  so  that  those  females,  among  the  poorer  classes  of  society,  who  aie 
bom  to  labour  for  their  bread,  but  who  find  work  inordinately  irksome  to  their  natures,  and 
pleasure  as  inordinately  agreeable  to  them,  have  no  necessity  to  resort  to  the  more  daring 
career  of  theft  to  supply  their  wants,  but  have  only  to  trade  upon  their  personal  charms  in 
order  to  secure  the  apparent  luxury  of  an  idle  life. 

The  truth  of  this  is  proven  by  M.  Parent  du  Chatelet,  in  his  work  upon  the  *^Fmmet 

were  revened,  there  being  but  15*2  per  cent,  of  persons  committed  at  a  more  advanoed  age,  and  as  many  u 
23'5  per  cent,  of  the  entire  population  at  the  same  period  of  life. 

As  regards  the  districts  contributing  the  greater  proportion  of  young  criminaLs  we  have  the  foUowing 
information  in  the  Government  tables  of  1843  : — 

"  The  comparative  ages  in  the  ten  most  agricultural  and  the  ten  most  manufactoring  and  mixed  eouBtiet 
ahow  the  earlier  commencement  of  crime  in  the  manufacturing  than  in  the  agricultural  countiea,  and — at 
proved  by  the  diminished  proportion  of  criminals  between  the  age  of  twenty  and  twenty-flyo  yeaia— its 
ahorter  career. 


Muiufacturing 
DiBtrioto. 

Anieultaral 
DiBtrieU. 

Aged  under 

15 

years        .    .    . 

.     .       6-6 

4-8 

„    15  and  under  20  yeard 

.     .     24-6 

21' 

»    20 

26    „ 

.     .     24-2 

26-9 

»    26 

30    „ 

.     .     161 

15-6 

,,    30 

40    „        . 

.     .     16-3 

17-6 

„    40 

60     „ 

.     .       8-2 

8-5 

„    60 

60    „         . 

.     .       3-6 

3-3 

„    60  years  ( 

uid  above     .    . 

.     .       1-5 

2-3." 

Here,  then,  we  find  that  the  proportion  of  offenders  under  twenty  years  of  age  is  nearly  5}  per  cant  feu 
in  the  agricultural  districts  than  in  the  manufificturing ;  whereas,  between  the  ages  of  twenty  and  forty,  the 
proportion  is  reversed,  being  4}  per  cent  less  in  the  manufacturing  than  in  the  agricultural  parts. 

«  This  variation,"  says  Mr.  Bedgrave,  "  may  be  affected  by  the  early  employment  of  children  in  nann- 
factures,  or  even  by  the  occupations  and  consequent  habits  of  their  parents."  We  are,  however,  inelined  to 
beUeve  that  the  cause  of  the  difference  may,  with  greater  probability,  be  traced  to  the  prevalenee  of  laiige 
towns  in  the  manufacturing  districts  and  the  early  street-association  among  the  children  of  tiie  poor,  as  well 
as  the  greater  fSeuiilities  in  cities  for  disposing  of  the  metal  and  the  other  produce  of  petty  robberies  at  the  nariae* 
store  shops.  This  view,  indeed,  appears  to  be  borne  out  by  the  table  printed  at  p.  404,  in  which  it  ia  shova, 
by  an  average  of  five  years,  that  the  greater  number  of  juvenile  offenders  come  from  Northumberlaiid  (ia 
which  Newcastle  is  situate),  Somerset  (of  which  Bristol  is  the  chief  town),  Surrey  (with  which  the  Metro- 
polis is  connected),  Norfolk  (of  which  Norwich  is  the  capital,  as  it  were),  Warwick  (to  which  Bmnin^iaa 
belongs),  Middlesex  (the  great  metropolitan  county),  and  Gloucester  (the  county  for  the  city  of  that  naaie}, 
in  all  of  which  the  proportion  of  young  criminals  is  found  to  be  above  the  average. 


BEPABATE  WASHING  CELL. 
IN  IHB  FXMALE  FaiflON  At  THE  CITY  HOCSE  OF  COUIECTIOH,  HOLLOWAV. 


HOUSE  OP  CORKECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  465 

PMiqMe& "  of  Fari0,  wheran  he  ihowt  not  only  that  the  large  majority  of  the  street- 
walkers eome  from  the  working^olasees,  bat  that  the  greater  proportion  are  deriTed  from  the 
dafri  pTursmng  the  most  irksome  form  of  all  labour,  as  well  as  subject  to  the  greatest  temp- 
tatioiifH-domestio  servants.  Again,  those  engaged  in  the  ill-paid  business  of  needlework, 
as  well  as  with  the  yanities  of  dress-making,  or  theatrical  employment,  alike  serve  to  swell 
the  ranks  of  the  **  unfortunates  f*  for  in  each  and  all  of  these  olaases  the  payment  is  not 
only  small,  but  the  allurements  ore  great — ^firom  the  servant,  who  daily  contrasts  the  com- 
parative luxury  said  ease  of  her  mistress's  life  with  the  hardships  of  her  own,  to  the  milliner, 
who  longs  to  be  able  to  wear  the  fine  things  she  is  ever  engaged  in  making  for  others,  and 
the  actress,  who  has  leomt  to  craye  for  admiration  as  port  of  the  very  business  of  life. 

The  other  reason  why  prostitution  constitutes  the  chief  delinquenoy  of  the  female  sex,  is 
because  the  indulgence  in  it  demands  the  same  insensibility  to  shame  on  the  part  of 
woman  as  dishonesty  in  man.  ICandeville,  long  ago,  showed  that  society  was  held  to- 
gether chiefly  by  the  loye  of  approbation  and  dread  of  disapprobation  among  mankind ; 
and,  though  the  philosopher  endeavoured  to  prove,  what  is  obviously  absnrd,  that  there  is 
no  right  nor  wrong,  except  sach  matters  as  have  come,  by  general  consent,  to  be  universally 
praised  or  blamed,  nevertheless,  all  must  admit,  that  the  desire  to  be  admired,  and  the 
disinclination  to  be  despised,  which  exists  in  the  breast  of  all  people,  is  one  of  the  most 
important  instruments  in  the  machinery  of  human  society. 

Indeed,  it  is  this  continual  fear  of  what  the  world  will  say — this  ever-active  sensibility 
as  regards  public  opinion — ^the  perpetual  craving  for  credit  and  reputation  and  standing 
among  the  various  classes  of  people — ^that  prompts  and  keeps  the  great  mass  of  mankind  to 
righteous  courses,  far  more  than  any  moral  sense  or  any  aspiration  to  fashion  their  actions 
according  to  the  standard  of  the  Gfreat  Exemplar  and  Teacher ;  for  the  eye,  which  men  fancy 
to  be  ever  watching  and  weighing  their  conduct,  is  that  of  this  same  public  opinion  rather 
than  of  All-perfection  and  Justice.  An  external  standard  of  admiration,  instead  of  an 
internal  principle  of  righteousness,  roles  the  world — ^a  dread  of  shame  among  men,  rather 
than  an  innate  hatred  of  what  is  iniquitous — ^whilst  what  is  termed  civilization  consists 
principally  in  the  development  of  human  vanity  to  an  inordinate  degree ;  and  hence  the 
poUie  and  artificial  form  of  society,  though  apparentiy  more  moral,  is  assuredly  more  false 
and  dishonest  than  the  natural  and  barbaric  mode  of  life.  ITevertheless,  what  is  lost  in 
truthfrdness  and  spontaneous  rectitude  is  gained  in  the  general  welfare  by  the  common 
conformity  to  those  principles  of  decency  and  virtue  which  moral  fashion  prescribes  for  the 
guidance  of  such  as  have  little  internal  principle  to  dictate  and  govern  their  own  conduct. 

Shame,  therefore,  in  such  a  condition  of  social  existence,  becomes  one  of  the  great  means 
of  moral  goyemment  in  a  State ;  so  that  to  exhibit  a  callousness  to  the  feeling,  is  to  lapse, 
as  it  were,  iuto  the  savage  form  of  life,  and  to  proclaim  that  our  actions  are  no  longer 
controlled  by  a  consideration  for  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  our  neighbours ;  and  hence  it 
is  that  other  men  feel  naturally  disinclined  to  place  trust  in  such  as  have  rendered  themselves, 
by  some  base  or  mean  act,  subject  to  the  opprobium  of  their  fellows ;  whilst  they  who  have 
done  BO,  having  once  lost  caste  in  the  world  and  broken  the  ice  of  shame,  get  to  be  as 
desperate  and  reckless  as  sinking  drowning  men,  and  to  be  ultimately  absorbed  in  the  whirl- 
pool of  influny  and  crime. 

If,  however,  such  be  the  result  vrith  men,  the  effect  of  the  violation  of  this  great  social 
principle  must  be  even  more  strongly  marked  in  women— -owing  to  the  sense  of  shame  being 
naturally  more  acute  in  the  gentier  than  in  the  sterner  sex.  Some  philosophers  have  classed  the 
love  of  approbation  as  an  elementary  propensity  of  human  nature.  It  seems  to  us,  however, 
that  human  beings  like  praise,  simply  because  the  admiraticn  of  others  serves  to  increase  their 
self-esteem,  or,  in  other  words,  to  exalt  the  admiration  of  themselves — ^for  this  self-esteem  is 
essential  not  only  to  our  happiness,  but  to  our  existence  itself.  It  is  of  the  highest  import- 
aence  for  our  welfiarei  for  instance,  that  we  should  have  fiedth  in  our  own  powers,  since  none 


456  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

can  be  of  such  use  to  us  as  we  can  to  ourselyes.  But  those  whose  powers  are  the  weakest, 
and  who  are,  therefore,  the  most  diffident  as  to  their  own  endowments,  not  only  require  to 
have  their  ficdth  continually  sustained,  but  naturally  find  the  greatest  delight  in  approbation. 
Hence  it  is  that  the  weakest  people  are  the  vainest,  or  most  open  to  flattery,  as  weU  as 
alive  to  shame ;  whilst  those  who  have  the  greatest  confidence  in  themselves  are  ever  the 
proudest,  and  but  little  affected  even  by  the  contempt  of  others. 

Thus,  then,  it  is  that  women,  being  the  weaker  portion  of  humanity,  are  naturally  not 
only  more  fond  of  being  admired,  but  more  bashful  or  morally  timid  than  men ;  so  that 
shame  is  the  great  ruling  principle  of  their  lives ;  whilst  those  who  become  caUous  to  it,  as 
well  as  reckless  as  to  how  their  acts  are  regarded  by  others,  are  viewed  by  the  rest  of  the 
world  as  creatures  in  whom  the  brightest  feminine  qualities  have  been  effaced,  and  whose 
natures  and  passions  are  subject  to  none  of  the  ordinary  principles  of  restraint.  The  reason, 
therefore,  why  prostitution  is  the  one  chief  delinquency  of  the  female  sex  is  because  it  is 
the  one  capital  act  of  shamelessness,  and  that  which  consequently  fits  the  creature  for  the 
performance  of  any  other  iniquity.  Hence  we  can  readily  understand  how  it  is  that  the 
great  mass  of  female  criminals  are  drawn  from  the  ranks  of  the  street- walkers  of  the 
country ;  for,  as  juvenile  delinquency  constitutes  the  apprenticeship  of  the  habitual  male 
offender,  so  prostitution  is  the  initiatory  stage  of  criminality  among  women. 

The  criminal  records  of  the  country,  in  a  measiu*e,  corroborate  the  above  remarks. 

The  gross  prison  population  of  the  country  for  1853,  including  those  summarily  con- 
victed, as  well  as  those  tried  at  assizes  and  sessions,  amounted  to  nearly  100,000  individuals 
of  both  sexes.     Of  these  the  numbers  for  the  adult  and  juvenile  prisoners  of  either  sex  were 

as  follows  :* — 

Males.         Females.  Total. 

Adults      .  .         .         .         64,239         22,692         86,931 

Juvenile 9,659  1,794         11,453 

Total  both  sexes  .  73,898        24,486         98,384 

*  The  annual  mean  for  a  series  of  years  is  given  below,  to  avoid  depending  on  particular  resnlta  r— 

Adults.  Hsles.        Females.        Total. 

Sommaril J  convicted 49,054        16,266        65,310 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions    ....        19,800  5,000        24,800 

m^i^f^&mm^^a^^  m^m^m^^^t^m^  ^m^^h^bmi^i^i* 

Total 68,854        21,256        90,110 

Jt7VXlfXLX8. 

Summarily  convicted 7,577  1,248  8,825 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions      ....        2,435  489  2,924 

Total 10,012       ""1^737        11,749 

All  Aoxs. 

Sammarily  convicted 56,631        17,504        74,135 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions    ....        22,235  5,489        27,724 

ToUl 78,866        22,993       101,859 

The  annual  mean  per  centage  for  the  same  uumbeiis  being  :— 

Adults.  Males.  Femalee.  Total. 

Summarily  convicted 7124  7647  7247 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions    ....  2876  2853  2753 

Total 10000        10000        10000 

JcvnrxLas. 

Summarily  convicted 75*67  71*84  7511 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions    ....  24*33  2816  24*89 

Mi^^^^a^M^^  ^■VNMMMMv^M*  mm^tm^-m^i^^^ 

Total 10000        10000        10000 

All  Classes. 

Summarily  convicted 78*45  7415  73-78 

Tried  at  assizes  and  sessions 26*55  25*85  26*21 

Total 100-00        10000        10000 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


457 


And  the  ceniesiinal  proportions,  as  regards  the  adults  and  juyeniles,  as  under : — 


Adults 
Juyeniles  . 


Males. 
86-94 
1306 

10000 


Females. 
92-67 
7-33 


Total. 
89-80 
10-20 


10000         100-00 


Whilst  those  with  respect  to  the  males  and  females  were : — 

Malea. 

Adults 71-43 

Juveniles 84' 33 


Total. 


7206 


Females. 
28-57 
15-67 

27-94 


Total. 
10000 
10000 

10000 


Bat  not  to  rely  upon  fallacious  criteria  of  any  one  year,  the  following  decennial  table 
has  been  prepared,  showing  at  once  the  relative  numbers  and  proportions  of  males  and 
females  of  all  ages  summarily  convicted,  as  weU  as  tried  at  assizes  and  sessions  throughout 
England  and  Wales:— 

TABLl  SHOWINO  TBB  KUKBSBS  AND   PEB    CBNTAOSS    OF   MALE   AND   FBMALB    OFFBNDSB0    fiUlOiABJLT 
OONTIGTBD  AND  TEIED  AT  8B88I0N8  AND  A88IZB8,   FBOM   1841   TO   1850,  BOTH  INOLUSIYB. 


Yean. 

1 

Tried  at  Awiaes  and  Seasions. 

All  Classes. 

Nambers. 

Per  Centage. 

Nambers. 

Per  Centage. 

Numbers. 

Per  Centage. 

Males. 

Fern. 

Males. 

Fcm. 

Males. 

Fom. 

Males. 

Fein. 

Males. 

Fern. 

Malea. 

Fern. 

1841 

47,629 

15,667 

76-3 

24-7 

121,873 

• 

5,212 

80-8 

19-2 

69,602 

24,879 

76-9 

231  1 

184-2 

54,784 

16,723 

77-7 

22-3 

25,523 

6,637 

81-9 

181 

80,307 

21,360 

79-0 

210 

1843 

57,361 

15,885 

78-4 

21-6 

24,516 

5,355 

82*1 

17*9 

81,877 

2],19€ 

79-5 

20-6 

1844 

55,605 

15,699 

78-0 

22-0 

21,710 

4,972 

81-4 

18-6 

77,315 

20,666 

78-9 

21-1  ! 

1845 

50,688 

15,354 

76-8 

28-2 

20,117 

4,966 

80-2 

19-8 

70,806 

20,82C 

77-7 

22-3  1 

1846 

48,261 

16,6di 

74-4 

25-6 

19.701 

5,332 

78-7 

21-3 

67,962 

21,97C 

74-6 

26-5 

1847 

50,481 

17,00C 

74-8 

25-2 

22,312 

6.827 

79-3 

20-7 

72,793 

22,827 

76-2 

238 

1848 

64,574 

19^97 

76-6 

28-4 

24,199 

5,887 

80-5 

19-5 

88,773 

25,584 

77-6 

22-4 

1849 

69,522 

21,441 

76-5 

28-5 

23,271 

5,481 

80-9 

191 

92,793 

26,922 

77-5 

22-5 

1850 
Aniraal  Mean 

61,645 

18,963 

76-5 

23-5 

21,164 

6,299 

80-0 

200 

82,809 

24,26i 

77-3 

22-7 

56,055 

17,201 

76-5 

23-5 

22,439 

5,397 

80-6 

19-4 

1  78,494 

22,598 

77-7 

22-3 

By  this  it  will  he  seen  that  the  annual  average  for  the  last  decenniad  has  heen  upwards 
of  100,000  offenders;  of  whom  78,500,  or  77f  per  cent.,  have  been  males,  and  22,500, 
or  22 J  per  cent.,  females.  Of  this  number,  it  will  be  further  observed,  73,000,  or  nearly 
three-fourths,  are,  upon  the  average,  summarily  convicted;  of  whom  56,000,  or  76 J  per 
cent.,  are  males,  and  17,000,  or  23|  per  cent.,  females;  whilst  the  remaining  27,800  are 
generally  committed  for  trial,  and  of  these  about  22,400,  or  80|  per  cent.,  are  males,  and 
5,400,  or  19|  per  cent.,  females. 

^ence  it  would  appear  that  the  female  offenders  are,  upon  the  average,  between  one- 
fourth  and  one-fifth  of  the  male  offenders  in  number ;  and  that  whilst  the  number  of  females 
immmarily  convicted  is  not  quite  equal  to  one-fourth  of  the  males,  the  number  of  women 
committed  for  trial  is  not  quite  one-fifth  of  the  men  sent  to  the  sessions.  The  propor- 
tion of  males  to  females,  however,  throughout  England  and  Wales,  according  to  the  last 
census,  is  as  100  to  105.  Now,  as  there  are  upon  an  average  15*7  persons  annually  com- 
mitted for.  trial  out  of  every  10,000  of  the  population,  it  would  appear,  from  the  above 
returns,  that  12*7  of  the  15*7  are  males,  and  the  remaining  3  females. 


458  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

But  though  this  would  appear  to  speak  highly  in  &Tour  of  the  honour  and  virtue  of  the 
female  portion  of  our  race,  nevertheless,  according  to  the  returns  of  Mr.  Bedgraye,  the 
criminality  of  women  has  been  annually  increasing  among  us  at  a  considerable  rate  far 
many  years  past.  In  the  returns  of  1839  that  gentleman  said,  ''with  respect  to  the 
sexes  of  criminals,  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  for  several  years  the  proportion  of  females  has 
been  increasing.  Comparing  the  number  of  males  and  females,  the  centesimal  proportion 
of  the  latter  was,  in  1834,  18*8;  in  1835,  200;  in  1836  and  1837  it  was  21*6  (though 
the  fraction,  if  carried  further,  still  shows  a  small  increase  in  1837) ;  ia  18B8,  32'1 ;  and 
in  1839,  23-2." 

Again,  in  1844,  he  drew  attention  to  the  fact — ''It  has  been  stated  in  former 
tables,  that  from  1835  to  1840  there  had  been  a  gradual  increase  in  the  proportioii  of 
females.  In  1841  this  increase  was  slightly  checked,  and  in  the  following  year  the  decreaBe 
in  the  proportion  was  considerable.  But  in  1843  an  increase  again  oommenced,  and  was 
succeeded  by  a  further  increase  in  1844.  These  fluctuations  will  be  best  shown  by  the 
following  figures : — 

Proportion  to 
No.  of  Females.       100  Malee. 

1834  ..  3,571  ..  18-8 

1885  . .  3,456  . .  200 

1836  ..  3,736  ..  21-6 

1837  ..  4,205  ..  21-6 

1838  ..  4,189  ..  221 

1839  ..  4,612  ..  23*2       | 

Whilst  in  1852,  he  added,  "the  numbers  still  prove  a  continuance  of  the  proportional 
increase  of  females  which  has  been  uninterrupted  8ince-1848,"  when,  as  stated  above,  there 
was  a  slight  decrease. 

Proportioii  to 
No.  of  Females.       100  Males. 


No.  of  Females.       ido  liaks. 

1840 

..     6,212     ..     23-7 

1841 

..     5,200     ..     23*0 

1842 

..     5,569     ..     21*6 

1843 

..     5,340     ..     22-0 

1844 

..     4,993     ..     23-1." 

PropottliMi  to 
lOOMalei 


NOb  of  Females.  lOOMalek 

1849  ..  5,401  ..  241 

1850  ..  5,265  ..  24-4 

1851  ..  55,69  ..  24-8 

1852  ..  5,625  ..  25*7 


1845  ..  4,962  ..  25-6 

1846  ..  5,257  ..  26-5 

1847  ..  5,930  ..  25-9 

1848  ..  5,763  ..  23-4 

The  same  eminent  authority  concluded,  in  1853,  by  remarking  tiiat  "  the  increase  has  been 
unusually  large  this  year,  the  proportion  having  risen  from  25*7  to  29*5  females  in 
100  males ;  while  twenty  years  since  it  was  only  18*8  females  to  the  100  males.* 

Next,  as  regards  the  offences  with  which  the  females  sent  for  trial  are  mostly  charged, 
we  find  that  these  generally  consist  of  what  are  termed,  in  the  Government  retains, 
"Offences  against  property  committed  without  violence" — partioulaily  simple  larceny, 
larceny  by  servants,  and  receiving  stolen  goods  (the  offences  of  this  class  including,  in  the 
year  1846,  88  per  cent,  of  the  females  committed,  and  only  77  per  cent,  of  the  males).  In 
indictments  for  perjury,  and  for  keeping  disorderly  houses,  the  females  also  form  a  large 
proportion.  In  murder,  and  attempts  to  murder,  lliey  constitute  above  one-fouith  the  com- 
mitments ;  in  arson,  above  one-sixth ;  but  for  robbery,  burglary,  and  housebreaking,  one- 
twelfth  only. 

Some  two  or  three  years  ago  the  following  proportions  were  given  by  Mr.  Bedgrave  as 
regards  the  per  centage  of  females  included  in  the  different  classes  of  crime: — 

*  It  will  be  obsenred  that  there  ii  a  slight  difference  between  the  numbers  last  quoted  and  thoee  giTsa 
in  the  preyions  tahle,  concerning  the  females  committed  for  triaL  The  numbers  in  the  fovmor  jnattmrr  art 
cited  from  Captain  WflliamaT  report,  bearing  date,  1856 ;  whilst  those  in  the  latter  ease  are  after  Mr.  Sed- 
graye^s  returns.  Moreover,  the  proportions  of  females  to  males  diiSar  slightly,  the  female  rattof  hayiag  been 
calculated  to  100  prisoners  ot  both  sexes ;  whilst  in  Mr.  Bedgrave's  returns  they  are  calculated  to  100 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


459 


99 


» 


99 


In  oflenfiefi  against  the  penon,  sneh  as  miurder,  and  attemptB 
at  murder,  manslatigliter,  concealing  birth,  bigamy, 
assanlts,  &c.,  the  proportion  of  females  waa,  in  1851,  13*4  to  100  males. 

In  offences  against  property,  committed  idth  Tiolenoe,  snch 
as  bnrglary,  housebreaking,  and  highway  robbery, 
the  proportion  was 7*7 

In  the  same  class  of  crimes,  howerer,  committed  without 
yiolence,  including  the  offences  of  simple  larceny, 
embezzlement,  and  recdving  stolen  goods,  &c.,  the 
proportion  was  as  high  as   28*6 

In  the  malicious  offences  against  property,  such  as  arson, 
incendiarism,  destruction  of  machinery,  &c.,  and 
maiming  cattle,  the  proportion  was  at  its  lowest  ebb,  or    5*  1 

In  forgery,  and  offences  against  the  currency,  such  as 
attempting  to  pass  bad  money,  or  fo^ed  notes,  it  rose 
again  to    23*1 

Whilst  in  the  miscellaneous  offences  of  high  treason, 
smuggling,  poaching,  prison-breaking,  perjury,  riot, 
and  keeping  disorderly  houses,  it  was  not  quite  ....  20** 

But  the  most  remarkable  feature  in  the  recent  history  of  female  crime  is  the  large  and 
increasing  proportion  of  females  annually  charged  with  murder.  During  the  last  fifteen 
years  the  numbers  and  proportions  of  females  accused  of  this  crime  have  been  as  follows : — 

In  the  Fiye  Yean.  Molee.  Females. 

1835-39      .        .        223        .  92  or  42  females  to  100  males. 

1840-44       .         .         221         .         126  „    57 
1845-49       .         .         205         .         160  „    78 

In  the  subjoined  table,  however,  we  have  a  still  clearer  view  of  the  enonnous  in- 
crease of  the  grave  crime  of  murder  among  women,  and  by  which  it  will  be  seen  that 
though  the  proportion  of  female  murderers  was,  in  1835-39,  only  42  in  every  100  male 
murderers,  in  1847  the  per  ce^^tage  was  not  less  than  89*4 ;  and,  in  1851,  it  had  risen  to 
124-2 ;  so  that  whilst  the  crime. of  murder  among  men  has  been  comparatively  decreasing, 
among  women  it  has  been  proportionably  on  the  increase : — 

Females 
acoiued  of  murder. 

28  or    71*8  females  to  100  males. 


99 


>> 


99 


1842 
1843 
1844 
1845 
1846 
1847 
1848 
1849 
1850 
1851 


Males 
accuBed  of  murder. 

39 

52 

46 

41 

42 

38 

42 

42 

28 

33 


33 

63-4 

29 

630 

24 

58-5 

26 

61-9 

34 

89*4 

34 

80*9 

42 

100*0 

24 

85*7 

41 

124*2 

»> 


>> 


>> 


99 


» 


>> 


79 


99 


l> 


99 

99 

>> 
99 


«  In  the  year  1841  the  foUowmg  was  the  proportion  of  females  in  the  difierent  classes  of  oflhnoes  :-- 

Ist  class  (offences  against  the  person)   10*9  per  100  males. 

2nd   „    (ditto  against  property,  with  violence) 6*3 

8rd    „    (ditto  ditto,  without  violence) 26-4 

4th    „    (malicious  offences  against  property)     S-O 

5th    „    (o£fences  against  the  currency)    28*1 

6th    „    (miscellaneous  oflfences)    19*6 


l> 

» 

99 

l» 

99 

)l 

99 

}> 

W 

9* 

460 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


The  next  step  in  our  exposition  of  the  phenomena  of  female  crime,  is  to  set  forth  the 
localities  in  which  the  criminality  among  women  appears  to  he  greater  or  less.  With  thiB 
yiew  we  have  drawn  up  the  following  tahle,  in  which  the  ayerage  has  been  calcDlated  from 
the  Gh)T6mment  returns  for  the  last  ten  years  :-y^ 


TABIA  SHOWZITG  THE  AJTSXIAL  AYSBIOE  FEB  CE5TA0E  OF  FEHALES  TO  MALES  COMlflTTBD  rOR 
TBIAL  nr  EACH  0OT7NTT  THBOTjaHOTJT  BNGLAWD,   PBOM    1844   TO   53,   BOTH  UrCLUBITE. 


COTTHTIBS. 


Bedford  .     .  . 

Berks      .     .  . 

Bucks     .     .«  . 

Cambridge   .  . 

Chester    .     .  . 

Cornwall     .  . 
Cumberland 

Derby     .     .  . 

Devon     .     .  . 

Dorset     .     .  . 

Dtirham  .     .  . 

Essex      .     .  . 

Gloucester   .  . 

Hereford      .  . 

Hertford      .  . 
Huntingdon 
Kent  .... 

Lancaster     .  . 

Leicester      .  . 

Lincoln   .     .  . 

Middlesex    .  . 

Monmouth  .  . 

Norfolk  .     .  . 
Northampton 
Northumberland 
Nottingham 

Oxford    .     .  . 

Rutland  .     .  . 

Salop       .     .  . 

Somerset      .  . 
Southampton 

Stafford  .     .  . 

Suffolk    .     .  . 

Surrey     .     .  . 

Sussex     .     .  . 

Warwick      .  , 

Westmoreland  . 

Wilte      .     .  . 

Worcester    .  . 

York       .     .  . 

North  Wales  . 

South  Wales  . 


Ayerage  annual  number  com- 
mitted for  trial. 


Males. 


159-6 
2771 
253*6 
2491 
71M 
199-2 
1011 
215-4 
600-3 
204-6 
250-4 
536-2 
804-4 
188-6 
2650 
78-8 
761-4 

2408-5 
286-0 
407-1 

8179-9 
238-4 
597-6 
243-4 
182-1 
282-5 
250-8 
28-8 
256  1 
658-8 
562-3 
795-7 
451-5 
849-0 
392-7 
750-7 
43-5 
361-8 
485-8 

1518-9 
240-7 
408-2 


Total  for  England  and  Wales  . 


21734-7 


Females. 


21-0 
46-0 
22-4 
38-3 

198-5 
60-4 
39-3 
30-0 

194-4 
43-9 
65-9 
69-2 

182-4 
43-6 
27-8 
13-3 

176-7 

864-9 

44-7 

87-8 

1022-3 

78-8 

1111 
38-2 
59-9 
44-7 
39-0 
4-4 
6-55 

143-4 

119-1 

189-3 
76-1 

246-5 
90-9 

155-7 

8-2 

59-6 

109-9 

357-1 
61-7 

142-4 


5494-3 


Total. 


180-0 
323-1 
2760 
287-4 
909-6 

2596-1 

14041 
245-4 
794-7 
248-5 
316-3 
605-4 
986-8 
232-2 
292-8 
92-1 
938-1 

3273-4 
330-7 
494-9 

^202-2 
317-2 
708-7 
281-6 
2420 
327-2 
289-8 
33-2 
321-6 
802-2 
681-4 
985  0 
527-6 

1095-6 
483-6 
906-4 
51-7 
421-4 
596-7 

1876-0 
302-4 
560-6 


Ayerage  annual  per 
centage. 


Males. 


88-37 

85-76 

91-88 

86-67 

78-18 

76-73 

7201 

87-77 

75-54 

82-33 

79-17 

88-17 

81-62 

81-22 

90-51 

86-66 

81-17 

73-58 

86-48 

82-26 

75-67 

73-16 

84-33 

86-43 

75-25 

86-34 

86-54 

86-74 

79-63 

8212 

82-52 

80-79 

85*68 

77-49 

81-21 

82-82 

8414 

85-85 

81-66 

80-96 

79-59 

74-14 


Females. 


272290 


79-82 


11-68 
14-24 

8-12 
13-33 
21-82 
23-27 
27-99 
12-23 
24-46 
17-67 
20-83 
11-43 
18-48 
18-71 

9-49 
14-46 
18-83 
26-42 
13-52 
17-74 
24-33 
24-84 
15-67 
18-57 
24-70 
13-66 
13-46 
13-26 
20-37 
17-88 
17-48 
19-21 
14-42 
2261 
18-79 
17-18 
15-E6 
14-16 
18-44 
19-04 
20*41 
26-86 


I 


4 


20-18 


I 


/ 


i1 

[    1 


1 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


461 


Arranging  the  counties  in  their  order,  according  as  the  per  oentuge  of  female  offenders  is 
either  aboye  or  below  the  general  average,  we  have  the  sabjoined  result :— * 


Chunties  in  whieh  ih$  Fer  Cmtofe  of  Femai4  jFHtoners  it  Abov$  (he  Avwo/ge^ 


Gumberknd 
Lanoaiter  . 
South  Wale« 
Monmouth 
Northumberland 


27-99 
26*42 
25-86 
24-84 
24-70 


Devon 
Middlesex 
Cornwall 
Surrey 


24-46 
24*33 
23-27 
32-51 


Cheater 
Durham 
North  Wales 
Shropshire 


21-82 
20-88 
20-41 
20-37 


Average  f<^r  all  England  and  Whales 


20-18 


Oouniiee  in  which  the  Fer  Centage  ofTemaU  Frieonere  ie  Below  the  Average, 


Stafford 

.  19-21 

York  . 

.  19-04 

Kent  . 

.  18-83 

SuflMX 

.  18-79 

Sarafoid    . 

.  18-71 

Glouoeater . 

.  18-48 

Worcester  . 

.  18-44 

Somerset 

.  17-88 

Lincoln 

.  17-74 

Dorset 

.  17-67 

Southampton 

.  17-48 

Leicester    . 

Warwick    . 

.  1718 

0:Eford 

Westmoreland    . 

.  16-86 

Cjffibridgo  . 

•                  a 

Norfolk 

.  15-67 

Rutland 

Huntingdon 

.  14*45 

Derby 

Suffolk 

.  14-42 

Beds  , 

•                   «                   • 

Berks 

.  14-24 

Essex 

>                    ■ 

Wilts 

,  14-16 

Hertford 

Nottingham 

.  13-66 

Bucks 

•                  •                   • 

.  18-67 

J       •            At                           •            *A 

A  At 

!•                 •                     ■» 

•       V           At 

13-52 
13*46 
13-33 
13-26 
1223 
11-63 
11-43 
9-49 
8-12 


Here,  then,  we  perceiye  tiiat  in  the  majority  of  those  cotmties  in  which  the  per  centage 
of  female  offenders  is  inordinately  great,  that  peculiar  form  of  courtship  which  is  termed 
"  handling/'  or  some  equally  loose  modification  of  it,  is  known  to  preyaH — as  in  Cumberland, 
Northumberland,  and  Durham,  South  Wales,  North  Wales,  and  Monmouth,  Cornwall,  and 
Devon,  as  weU  as  Lancashire,  Cheshire,  and  Shropshire--^e  metropolitan  county  being 
also  that  in  which  there  is  Uie  greatest  number  of  prostitutes;  whilst  the  midland  counties, 
as  Bucks,  Herts,  Beds,  Cambridge,  &c.,  are  those  in  which  the  feotales  appear  to  be  the 
least  criminal. 

In  the  Ooyemment  retunv^,  Mr.  Bedgrave  makes  an  attempt  to  connect  the  difference 
in  the  proportion  of  female  crime  throughout  the  different  parts  of  the  country,  with  the 
difference  of  employment  among  women. 

'^As  this  difference,^'  he  says,  in  the  report  for  1847,  '^  arises  apparently  from  the 
occupations  of  the  population,  the  following  comparison  has  been  made  of  the  commitments 
in  the  chief  industrial  and  agricultural  districts ;  and  it  will  be  seen  that,  except  in  the 
metropolitan  coxmty,  the  greatest  proportion  of  female  commitments  has  taken  place  in  those 
counties  where  females  are  employed  in  the  rudest  and  most  unfeminine  labours : — 


1843. 

'' Southern  Welsh  Mining  DisHct. — Wales,  South      ....       29-4 

Narthem  Mining  District. — Cumberland,  Northumberland,  Durham      29*1 

District  of  ike  Woollen  and  Cotton  Ifanufaetures. — ^Yorkshire,  Lan-  \ 

cashire ]    ^®*^ 

MdropoUtan  County, — ^Middlesex 80*8 

Norihern  Welsh  Mining  District. — ^Wales,  North  18-8 

Mardwaref  Pottery ^  and  Glass. — Stafford,  "Warwick,  Worcester  19-0 

8maUer  Cotton^   Woollen,  Silk,  and  Lace  Fabrics, — Chester,  Derby,  \ 

Notts,  Leicester ] 

84> 


1847. 
86-9 

38-6 

80-6 

29-4 
28-4 
24-9 

23-3 


\ 


462 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


South   and    8<mth-  West&m  AgricuUwral  Dwtriet, — Sussex,  Hants,  ^ 
Wilts,  Dorset,  Somerset ] 

North-Eastem  and  Eastern  AgrieuUwrdl  District, — Lincoln,  Ncirfolk,  \ 

Suffolk,  Essex j    ^^'^ 

Midland  Agricultural  Counties. — Cambridge,  Northampton,  Hertford,  ^ 

Bedford.  Bucks,  Oxford,  Berks 1    ^^'^ 


21-2 


20-6 


14-6." 


We  are,  however,  rather  inclined  to  connect  female  criminality  with  xmcfaastity,  rather 
than  "rude"  employment  among  women ;  and  it  will,  we  believe,  be  found  to  be  generallj 
true  that  those  counties  in  which  the  standard  of  female  propriety  is  the  lowest,  or  where 
the  number  of  prostitutes  is  the  greatest,  there  the  criminality  of  the  women  is  the 
greatest. 

We  have  now  but  to  set  forth  the  ages  at  which  the  career  of  female  vice  is  found  to 
predominate. 

We  have  before  shown  (p.  357)  that  there  is,  proportionally,  less  juvenile  delinquency 
among  females  than  aihong  males;  the  average  per  centage  of  young  girls  imprisoned 
throughout  England  and  Wales  being. only  7^  of  the  whole  of  the  female  prisoners,  whilst 
the  mean  proportion  of  boys  is  as  much  as  12  J  per  cent,  of  the  gross  number  of  male 
prisoners.  We  showed,  moreover,  that,  under  twdve  years,  the  young  female  criminals  were 
only  a  fraction  more  than  f  per  cent,  of  the  female  prisoners ;  whilst  the  young  male  crimi- 
nals of  the  same  age  are  very  nearly  1^  per  cent,  of  the  male  prisoners ;  then,  between  twelve 
and  fourteen  years  of  age,  the  young  females  are  about  1^  per  cent.,  and  the  young  males 
about  2f  per  cent.,  of  the  entire  number  of  prisoners  belonging  to  either  sex;  whereas, 
between  fourteen  and  seventeen  years  of  age,  the  fen^de  prisoners  are  about  5^  per  cent, 
and  the  males  8|  per  cent,  of  the  whole. 

'^  The  returns  prove,  as  might  be  anticipated,"  si^s  Mr.  Redgrave,  ''  that  females  are 
not  led  into  the  commission  of  crime  so  early  as  males;  this  probably  arises  from  the 
greater  parental  restraint  they  are  subjected  to  in  early  Ufe,  as  well  as  from  the  numbers 
yrho  commence  an  evil  course  by  prostitution— en  assumption  which  would  acoount  for  the 
increased  proportion  that,  after  the  age  of  twenty-five,  the  females  bear  to  the  males.  The 
calculation  which  follows  is  made  upon  the  commitments  of  1846*: — 

Concerning  the  comparative  degree  of  instruction  between  the  female  and  the  male 


Ages  of  Priioners. 


Males. 


Numberf. 


Aged  under  15  yean 

„     16  yean  and  under  20    .     .    . 

V    20        „  „        26    .     .     . 

„     26        „  „         30     .    .     . 

,}     30         „  ,,         40     .     f     . 

„     40         „  „         60     .     .     , 

fi     60         „  „         60     .     .     . 

„     60  yean  and  above     .... 
Ages  not  aaoertained 


1,426 

4,893 

4,674 

2,810 

3,046 

1,682 

662 

371 

346 


19,860 


OentMimal 
proportion. 


718 

24-66 

23-66 

1416 

16-36 

8-22 

3-28 

1-87 

1-74 


KTrnnben. 


I 


214 

1,248 

1,182 

846 

926 

438 

207 

86 

67 


6,267 


Omterimal 
proportkMi. 


407 

28*64 

22-49 

16-07 

1761 

9-28 

3-94 

1-62 

1-28 


*  In  the  "  Sixteenth  Beport  of  the  Inspeoton  of  Priaons,"  there  ia  a  decennial  table  upon  the 
subject,  and  indnding  the  gross  number  of  prisoners,  both  summarily  oouTioted  as  well  9b  tried  at  smms 
and  sessions.    Not  to  depend  upon  the  returns  for  any  one  year,  we  have  copied  from  this  table  tiie  pitipor- 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS. 


463 


pnaanen  of  aU  ages,  we  find,  by  the  deoennial  tables,  tbat  the  azmual  mean  from  1841 
to  1850  was  as  follows : — 


TABIiE  BHOWINO  THB   AHNDAL  MKAN  AS  TO  THB   BELATITB   tTATB  OF  IVSTBVCTIOM 

TEMALM  PBIBOMBBB  FOB  TBI  PBOBHIIIAD  BHBINe  1860. 


BSTWBBN   MALX  AHB 


State  of  Instmetion. 

Nomben. 

Per  Centage. 

Males. 

Femalet. 

Malee. 

Femalee. 

Can  neither  read  nor  write 
Can  read  only  .... 
Can  either  read  or   write,  or> 

hoth  imperfectly    .        .       ) 
Can  read  and  write  well    . 
Saperior  education    . 
State  of  instruction  not  aaoer-  ) 

tained   .                 .'       .       t 

Total    , 

26,339 
16,762 

31,068 

4,836 
211 

803 

9,822 
6,384 

6,847 

467 
7 

71 

366 
201 

89-6     • 

61 
0*3 

0-4 

43  6 
28-2 

26-0 

2-0 
00 

0-4 

78,494 

22,698 

100-0 

1000 

Thus,  then,  we  discover  that  the  female  criminals  belong  to  a  more  ignorant  class  even 
than  the  males,  for  we  see  that  upwards  of  70  per  cent,  of  the  former  are  unable  to  write, 
whilst  but  little  more  than  50  per  cent,  of  the  latter  are  ia  the  same  degraded  condition. 


The  results,  therefore,  that  we  arrive  at  from  the  above  elaborate  data 

1.  That  females,  taken  in  the  aggregate,  are  considerably  less  criminal  than  males ;  the 
entire  female  prisoners  of  the  country  constituting  but  little  more  than  20  per  cent.,  and  the 
males  as  much  as  80  per  cent.,  of  the  gross  prison  population  of  England  and  Wales. 

2.  That  female  crime — and  especially  that  of  murder — has  increased  among  us  within 
the  last  twenty  years,  rising  from  18  per  cent,  in  1835,  to  25  per  cent,  in  1853. 

tions  as  to  the  ages  of  the  male  and  female  prisoners  for  1841  and  1860,  as  well  as  the  annual  mean  for  the 
entire  ten  years : — 

TABLB   SBOWINO  TBB  BBULTTVB  AOB8  OF  PBXSOMBBS  OF  BOTH  SEXES  SDMMABILT  C0ETX0TB1>.  AS  WELL  AS  COM- 
MITTSP  FOB  TBIAL,  IB  THE  TEABS  1841  AITB  I860,  TOOETHEB  WITH  THE  AHKVAL  MEAN  FOB  TEX  TBAB8. 


Agaa  of  Vriaonmrm^ 

1S41. 

1650. 

Annual  mean  for  ten 
years. 

Melee. 

Femalee. 

Melee. 

Femalee. 

Malee. 

Females. 

Afecl  under  12  years 

1-32 

2-86 

8-63 

23-74 

33-78 

19-66 

7-88 

1-76 

•69 

'B6 

1-64 

6-60 

24-88 

86-46  . 

21-61 

8-37 

1-64 

-60  . 

1-34 

2-77 

7-69 

22-99 

83-97 

21-44 

7-46 

206 

-38.' 

-68 

1.29 

4-66r 

22-97 

86-88 

24-04 

,       7-97 

2-26 

•36 

1-88 

2-77 

^•68 

24-06 

32-21 

20-78  • 

7-99 

1-96 
•23. 

-76 

1-32 

6-63 

24-60 

36-73 

20-94 

8-93 

2-24 

•06 

„     12  years  and  undor  14 
n      H          „            „          17 
»     17        „          „        21 
„     21         „          „        80     . 
„     30        „          „        46 
„     46        „           „         60      . 
„     60  years  and  upwards 
Aires  not  ascertained  .... 

^        - 

Total 

100-00 

10000 

.10000 

* 

100-00 

10000 

10000 

Here  we  perceive  that  under  the  age  of  serenteen  the  n^e  offenders,  according  to  the  decennial  average, 
are  5  per  cent  more  than  the  females ;  that  from  seven^e^i  to  twenty-one  the  ratio  between  the  two  sexes  is 
Tery  nearly  equal ;  whilst  from  twenty-one  to  thirty  tl^  >£lmale  prisoners  are  some  3  per  cent,  in  excess. 
We  bIso  perceive  that  there  has  been  a  tendency  for  i^e  number  of  female  prisoners  under  twenty-one  to 
decrease — the  per  centage  of  those  under  twenty-one,  in  the  year  1841,  having  been  82*87,  whilst  in  1860 
the  per  centage  of  females  below  the  same  age  had  Isllen  to  29'60.  Between  the  ages  of  twenty-one  and 
thirty  scarcely  any  alteration  occurred ;  whilst  above  the  age  of  thirty,  the  proportion  of  female  committals 
has  increased  noarly  8  per  oent.  within  the  last  ten  years. 


464  THE  GULEAT  WORLD  OF  LOITDOK. 

3.  That  the  coiuities  in  which  there  is  aa  inordinate  proportion  of  female  eiiminalB  to 
males,  are  those  in  which  there  is  a  low  standard  of  female  virtuey  or  in  which  the  number 
of  prostitutes  is  excessiye. 

4.  The  crimes  to  which  the  female  prisoners  are  mostly  prone  are  those  of  simple 
larceny,  larceny  by  servants,  as  well  as  uttering  base  coin,  perjury,  and  keeping  disorderly 
houses ;  the  latter  class  of  crimes  being  those  generally  committed  by  the  prostitute  class,  as 
the  passing  of  bad  money  for  the  coiners  with  whom  they  cohabit,  and  false  swearing  in 
order  to  procure  the  acquittal  of  their  associate  thieyes. 

5.  That  the  female  criminals  begin  their  career  of  crime  at  a  later  period  of  life  than  the 
males,  there  being  a  smaller  per  centage  of  female  prisoners  than  males  below  the  age  of 
puberty,  and  a  correspondingly  greater  proportion  after  the  age  of  21  years. 

Lastly.  That  the  female  criminals  belong  to  a  far  more  ignorant  and  degraded  class  than 
the  males,  there  being  only  one-half  of  the  male  prisoners  who  are  unable  to  read  or  write, 
whilst  nearly  three-fourths  of  the  females  are  incapable  of  doing  so. 

We  have  now  only  to  show  the  number  of  female  criminals  in  the  Metropolis,  as  well  as 
to  set  forth  the  proportion  they  bear  to  the  males,  in  order  to  ascertain  how  much  greater 
is  the  criminality  of  the  London  women  than  that  of  the  country  generally. 

The  number  of  females  '^  passing  through''  the  London  detentional  prisons  in  the  course 
of  the  year  would  appear  to  be  near  upon  3,600  in  9,000  and  odd  prisoners  of  both  sexes, 
as  may  be  gathered  from  the  following  returns  for  1853,  as  giyen  in  the  Nineteenth  Beport 
of  the  Prison  Inspectors: — 


Proportfam  of  FemalM 
Total        to  100  of  gnm  Prison 
Males.        Femaleii.       both  Sexes.  PopoUtioB. 


Number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the ")  «  />i7q  o  oqi  t  aa^ 

House  of  Detention,  Clerkenwell    .     .J  ^'^^^  ^'^^^  ^'^^^ 

^""^^.r^^ji^.^^    ^""^^  1  2,042  761  2,803 

JcLorBemonger  X4iiie  pnaon     .     .    .    .  \  '  ' 

Nmnber  of  prisonerB  passiiig  through)  ,  ,^.  „„„  ,  „,_ 

Newgate f  *'*^*  *™  ^'^*'' 


^"Si^^^on?""*'!*^'^"^*"'.*'!''':)    8'28»       3,482       12,721  269 

In  addition  to  these,  there  are  the  prisoners  ''  passing  through*'  the  London  houses  of 
correction,  and  the  number  of  females  among  these  would  appear  to  amount  to  rather  better 
than  8,000,  out  of  a  gross  total  of  very  nearly  25,000  prisoners  of  both  sexes. 

PYopotiioBof  Fhbsv* 
Total        to  too  of  froM  Pri»> 
Malee.        Females.       both  Sexes.  Popolatko. 

Number  of  prisoners   passing   through  \ 
the  Middlesex  House  of  Correction,  >    9,665         —  9,665 

Coldbath  Fields ) 

Number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the  \ 

Westminster  House  of  Correction,  Tot- I    1,923      6,010    "    7,933 
hilljields ) 

Number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the  )       q^-  „^,         ,  « .^ 

City  House  of  Correction,  HoUoway    .  }       ^^^         ^^^        ^'^^" 

Number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the  \ 

Surrey  House  of  Correction,  Wands-  |    8,558       1,474        5,032 

worth >     • ) 

Number  of  prisoners  passing  through  the 

City  Bridewell,  Bridge  Btreet,  Black-  }        723         256  979 

friars 


''"Sti^s^p^s::"''^  *'^'";^'"^  r  1  ^«.««  «.i«^  ^4.949     z^s 


HOUSE  OF  COEBJECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  466 

To  these,  again,  must  be  subjoined  the  nmnbers  in  the  metropolitan  convict  prisons; 
and,  aooording  to  the  Gbyemment  retoms  for  the  year  1854-55,  the  ftoude  oonricts  wonld 
appear  to  amount  to  860  odd  in  5,760  prisoners  of  both  sexes  :•>— 

PrcnwrtlOB  oi  F«iiialM 
ToUl  to  IDO  of  gitMs  Prison 

MalM.       Fesulet.      boChSexeib  PopalattoB. 

Kumber  of  prisoners  passing  through  |        gor        , 005 

Fentonville  prison j 

iSrmLh&c  of  prisoners  passing  through]     ^,461       198         2,659 
Miilbank  prison )       ' 

Number  of  prisoners  passing  through )        g^ .  g^^ 

Brixton  prison j 

I^umber  of  prisoners  passing  through)      1  do  1  jsiq 

Hulks  (Woolwich)      .     .     .     .    7    1     ^'^^^       -         ^'^^^ 


^^^^•^^ 


Total  passing  through  the  London  con- 1      .gg^      ggg        5,761  14-9 

Yict  prisons        )       * 

The  metropolitan  account,  therefore,  as  to  the  number  and  per  centage  of  the  female 
criminals  stands  thus : — 

Kumber  and  per  centage  of  females  \ 

passing  through  the  London  con-  >      862  or  14*9  per  cent,  of  gross  prison  populatioa. 
vict  prisons ) 

Number  and  per  centage  of  females  \ 

passing  through  the  correctional  |  8,105  ,,  32*5        ,, 
prisons       ) 

Number  and  per  centage  of  females  \ 

passing  through  the  detentional  >  8,432  „  26*9 
prisons -) 


>f  99 


♦•  *f  »> 


Total 12,399       285        „ 


>>  i9 


Thus,  then,  we  perceive  that  there  are  upwards  of  12,000  female  criminals  "passing 
through  "  the  London  prisons  in  the  course  of  the  year,  and  this  out  of  a  gross  prison  popula- 
tion of  43,000  and  odd  individuals  of  both  sexes;*  and  this  gives  a  proportion  of  28-5  females 
to  cTery  100  prisoners  of  both  sexes,  which,  it  will  be  seen,  by  referring  to  tho  table  at 
page  460,  exceeds  by  more  than  5  per  cent,  the  proportion  of  female  prisoners  for  the  whole 
country.  Of  the  12,399  females  passing  through  the  London  prisons,  752,  or  6  per  cent. 
of  the  whole,  are  juveniles  under  the  age  of  17  years ;  whilst  the  31,000  and  odd  mal^fi 
passing  through  the  same  establishments  include  no  less  than  19  juveniles  in  every  100 
— a  feet  which  thoroughly  agrees  with  t^hat  has  been  before  shown,  that  the  females  do 
not,  generally,  commence  their  criminal  career  until  after  the  age  of  puberty.  It  is,  how- 
ever, a  somewhat  startling  fact  that  the  London  women  make  up  more  than  one-tenth  of 
the  gross  prison  population  of  the  whole  country,  viz.,  12,000  and  odd  in  a  gross  total  of 
ratlier  more  than  100,000  prisoners. 

It  now  remains  for  us  to  state,  generally,  the  characteristics  of  the  Lohdon  f^al^ 
criminalfl,  and  then  to  pass  on  to  tiio  exposition  of  the  economy  of  the  female  prison  ftt 
Welrfminster. 

The  most  striking  peculiarity  of  the  women  located  in  the  London  prisons  is  that  of 
titter  and  imperturbable  shamelessness.    Those  who  are  accustomed  to  the  company  of 

*  The  reader  Bhould  be  wtmed  that  many  of  these  appear  more  thaxl  onee  in  the  above  aocoafati 
thoee,  for  inatanoe,  at  Hillbank  are  trantferred  to  Brixton,  and  the  majority  of  those  at  H(Hnemoiiger  Lane  to 
Wandsworth.    The  same  oocnrs  with  the  females  from  Newgate  and  the  House  of  Detention.    Again,  many 
are  recommitted,  and  so  are  counted  more  than  once  in  the  correctional  and  detentional  returns  for  the  year. 
The  total  number  of  distinct  or  indiYidual  female  oriminalB  may,  perhaps,  be  6,000,  or  half  that  aboye  stated. 


466  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

modest  women,  and  have  learnt  at  onoe  to  know  and  respect  the  eztrenie  aenaitivenefls  of 
the  female  character  to  praise  or  blame,  as  well  as  its  acate  dread  of  being  detected  in  tiie 
slightest  impropriety  of  conduct,  or  in  Gircumstanoes  the  least  xmbecoming  the  sex,  and  haye 
occasionally  seen  the  blood  leap  in  an  instant  into  the  cheeks,  till  the  whole  eonntenance  has 
come  to  be  suffused  with  a  deep  crimson  flush  of  modest  misgiving,  and  lighted  np  with  all 
the  glowing  grace  of  innocence  itself,  and  have  noted,  too,  how  in  such  states  it  seems  to  be 
positive  pain  to  the  abashed  creature  to  meet  the  gaze  of  any  rougher  nature  than  her  own — 
such  persons  can  hardly  comprehend  how  so  violent  a  change  as  that  which  strikes  us  first 
of  all  in  the  brazen  and  callous  things  we  see  congregated  within  the  female  prisonB,  can 
possibly  have  been  wrought  in  the  feminine  charactcor. 

Two  questions  at  such  times  divide  the  mind :  Is  shame  not  natural  to  woman — an  artifi- 
cial and  educated  sentiment,  rather  than  an  inAate  and  spontaneous  one  ?  Or  were  the 
bold-faced  women  and  girls  that  one  beholds,  as  we  pass  along  the  prison  work-rooms, 
tittering  rather  than  blushing  at  their  infamy,  and  staring  full  in  the  face  of  the  stranger,  in- 
stead of  averting  their  head  in  order  to  avoid  his  glance— ^were  these  ever  modest  and  gentle- 
natured,  as  those  with  whom  we  are  in  daily  intercourse  ?  Is  this  the  true  female  nature, 
and  that  which  we  know  merely  the  disguised  saidpoUU  form  of  it? 

There  is  but  one  answer  to  such  queries. 

Shame  is  as  unnatural  to  woman  as  it  is  for  mankind  to  love  their  enemies,  and  to  Uess 
those  that  persecute  them.  1th  as  much  an  educated  sentiment  as  is  the  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful  and  the  good,  and  as  thoroughly  the  result  of  training  as  is  a  sense  of  decency  and 
even  virtue ;  for  in  the  same  manner  as  the  conscience  itself  remains  dormant  in  our  boaoms 
till  developed,  like  the  judgment,  or  indeed  any  other  fEu^ulty,  by  long  teaching  and 
schooling ;  so  shame  itself,  though  the  main  characteristio  of  civilized  woman,  may  continue 
utterly  unawakened  in  the  ruder  forms  of  female  nature. 

Many  of  the  wretched  girls  seen  in  our  jails  have,  we  verily  believe,  never  had  the 
sentiment  educated  in  them,  living  almost  the  same  barbarous  life  as  they  would,  had 
they  been  bom  in  the  interior  of  AMca ;  whilst  in  others,  though  the  great  goveraing 
principle  has  been  partially  developed,  the  poor  wretches,  by  a  long  course  of  misoondnct, 
have  become  so  hardened  to  the  scorn  and  reproofs  of  their  fellow-creatures  as  to  be  utterly 
barbarized,  and  left  without  the  faintest  twinge  of  moral  sense  to  restrain  their  wild  animal 
passions  and  impulses ;  so  that  in  them  one  sees  the  most  hideous  picture  of  all  human 
weakness  and  depravity — a  picture  the  more  striking  because  exhibiting  the  ooarBest 
and  rudest  moral  features  in  connection  with  a  being  whom  we  are  apt  to  regard  as  the 
most  graceful  and  gentle  form  of  humanity. 

And  yet  they  who  have  studied  the  idiosyncraay  of  these  d^;raded  women  know 
that  they  are  capable,  even  in  their  degradation,  of  the  very  highest  sacrifices  for  those  they 
love.  The  majority  of  the  habitual  female  criminals  are  connected  with  some  low  brute  of 
a  man  who  is  dither  a  prize-fighter,  or  cab-driver,  or  private  soldier,  or  pickpocket,  or 
coiner,  or  costermonger,  or,  indeed,  some  such  character.  And  for  this  lazy  and  mfiian 
fellow,  there  is  no  indignity  nor  cruelty  they  will  not  suffer,  no  atrocity  that  they  are  not 
ready  to  commit,  and  no  infamy  that  they  will  hesitate  to  perform,  in  order  that  he  maj 
continue  to  live  half-luxuriously  witii  them  in  their  shame.  A  virtoouB  woman's  love  is 
never  of  the  same  intensely  passionate  and  self-denying  character  as  marks  the  afiSM^iM 
of  her  most  abject  sister.  To  comprehend  this,  we  must  conceive  the  wretched  womaa 
shunned  by  almost  all  the  world  for  her  vice — ^we  must  remember  that,  in  many  instaooes, 
she  has  lost  every  relative  and  friend,  and  that  even  her  parents  (whose  love  and  care  it 
the  last  of  all  to  cease)  have  cast  her  firom  them,  and  that  she  is  alone  in  the  great  wildenesi 
of  life  and  care — ^Mendless  at  the  very  time  when  she  needs  and  longs  most  fior  a  Mend 
to  protect  and  console  her.  We  must  endeavour,  too,  to  conoeive  what  must  be  the  feelings 
of  such  a  woman  for  the  one  person,  amid  all  mankind,  who  seems  to  sympathize  with  her, 


HOUSE  OF  COREECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  467 

and  who  is  ready  to  shield  her  firom  the  taunts  and  cufis  of  the  world ;  fbr  most  strange 
indeed  it  is,  that  those  "who  seem  to  be  the  least  like  women  of  all,  and  appear  to  be  the 
least  loYing  and  self-denying  in  their  natures,  should  be  characterized  eyen  in  their  debase- 
ment by  the  tenderest  attribute  of  the  female  constitution,  and  remarkable  for  a  loye  that 
is  more  generous,  more  devoted,  more  patient,  and  more  indomitable  than  any  other. 

"We  once  troubled  our  head  with  endeavouring  to  discover  what  qualities  in  man  partake 
of  the  admirable  in  the  eyes  of  such  women  as  these.  Bo  they  love  the  half  brutes  with  whom 
they  cohabit,  and  from  whose  hands  they  bear  blow  after  blow  without  a  murmur,  giving 
indeed  only  kisses  in  return ;  and  for  whose  gross  comforts  they  are  daily  ready  to  pollute 
both  their  body  and  soul  ?— do  they  love  these  fellows,  we  asked  ourselves,  for  any  personal 
beauty  they  fancy  them  to  possess ;  or  what  strange  quality  is  it  that  makes  them  prize  them 
beyond  any  other  being  in  the  world  ? 

We  soon,  however,  discovered  that  they  care  little  about  the  looks  of  their  paramours,  for 
not  only  are  the  majority  of  such  men  coarse  and  satyr-like  in  feature,  but  these  women, 
generally  speaking,  have  even  a  latent  contempt  for  the  class  of  public  performers  who  are 
wont  to  trick  their  persons  out  to  the  best  possible  advantage.  Again,  it  is  not  honour,  nor 
dignity  of  character,  nor  chivalry  of  nature,  nor  energy  of  disposition,  nor  generosity  of  tem^ 
perament  thfit  they  think  the  highest  attributes  of  man ;  for  the  fellows  with  whom  they 
cohabit  are  mean  and  base  to  the  last  degree,  selfish  as  swine,  idle  as  lazzaroni,  and  rui&anly 
even  as  savages  in  their  treatment  of  females. 

In  a  word,  it  is  jpower  and  courage  that  make  up  the  admirable  with  woman  in  her 
shame;  and  hence  the  great  proportion  of  what  are  termed  ''fancy  men''  are  either,  as 
we  have  said,  prize-fighters,  or  private  soldiers,  or  cab-drivers,  or  thieves,  or  coiners,  or 
indeed  fellows  who  are  distinguished  either  for  their  strength,  or  '*  pluck,''  or  their  adven- 
turous form  of  life. 

Another  marked  peculiarity  of  the  character  of  the  female  criminals  is  the  periodical 
indulgence  of  many  of  them  in  violent  outbursts  of  temper,  if  not  ftiry,  and  that,  too, 
without  any  apparent  cause. 

We  have  ^ready  drawn  attention  to  this  striking  characteristic  while  treating  of  the 
female  prisons  at  Brixton  and  Millbank,  and  shown  that  special  canvas  dresses,  and 
indeed  strait  waistcoats,  have  to  be  resorted  to,  in  order  to  prevent  the  women,  when 
subject  to  these  wild  fits  of  passion,  from  tearing  to  ribbons  every  article  of  dress  about 
them,  and  that  occasionally  they  destroy  the  tables,  windows,  and  bedding  in  their  cells, 
so  that  the  casements  have  to  be  covered  with  sheets  of  perforated  iron,  and  even  the 
shelves  to  be  made  of  the  same  material,  set  into  the  walls ;  whilst  not  only  are  the  female 
prisoners  more  violent  and  passionate  than  the  moles,  but  their  language,  at  such  times,  is 
declared  by  all  to  be  for  more  gross  and  disgusting  than  that  of  men  in  similar  circumstances. 

Nor  is  it  less  remarkable  that  some  of  the  women,  who  are  liable  to  such  outbreaks,  will 
occasionally,  when  they  feel  the  fit  of  fhry  coming  on,  ask  of  their  own  accord  to  be  shut  up 
in  a  separate  cell. 

There  would  appear  to  be  two  causes  for  such  wildness  of  conducir— the  one  physical, 
and  perhaps  referable  to  the  same  derangement  of  Amotions  as  Esquirol,  in  his  work  upon 
madness,  has  shown  to  be  intimately  connected  with  insanity  among  women  ,*  and  the  other 
moral,  in  the  want  of  that  feeling  of  shame  which,  as  we  have  said,  is  the  great  controlling 
principle  with  women,  so  that  the  female  criminal  being  left  without  any  moral  sense,  as  it 
wete,  to  govern  and  restrain  the  animal  propensities  of  her  nature,  is  really  reduced  to  the 
same  condition  as  a  brute,  without  the  power  to  check  her  evil  propensities. 


468 


THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


%  ii. — t. 
Of  the  Jkienor  of  the  Female  Frieon  at  Westminet&r. 

It  has  been  before  stated  that,  at  tfie  April  Quarter  Sessions  of  the  year  1850,  ICr.  Thomas 
Turner,  one  of  the  Middlesex  mag;istrates,  moved  to  the  effect,  "that  a  committee  be 
appointed  to  consider  the  expediency  of  appropriating  each  of  the  Middlesex  Houses  of 
Correction  to  distinct  classes  of  offenders/'  and  that,  in  accordance  with  the  recommendation 
of  the  committee  then  appointed,  it  was  determined,  in  July  1850,  ''that  the  Westminster 
House  of  Correction  should  be  thenceforth  restricted  to  the  reception  of  oonyicted  female 
prisoners,  as  weU  as  males  below  the  age  of  seyenteen.'' 

This  change  enabled  the  Middlesex  magistrates  to  manage  their  two  houses  of  correction 
with  twenty  officers  less,  and  at  an  annual  saving  of  £1,719  in  salaries  to  officials. 

That  portion  of  the  "Westminster  House  of  Correction  which  now  constitutes  the  female 
prison  there  consists  of  two  distinct  semicircular  blocks  of  buildings,  situate  at  what  are 
termed  the  B  and  C  sides  of  the  prison ;  the  former  being  at  the  back  of  the  govemor^s 
house,  adjoining  Victoria  Street,  and  the  latter  at  the  side  of  it  towards  the  river,  and 
facing  the  boys'  prison  A,  which  stands  on  the  side  next  the  Yauxhall  Eoad. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit,  there  were  some  611  female  prisoners  located  within  the  B  and 
C  portions  of  the  building — 337  in  the  cells  and  dormitories  of  "B  side,"  and  274  in  those  of 
**  C  side" — ^the  particular  distribution  b^ing  as  follows : — 


B«tV2^. 


ft 

n 
i» 
ff 
n 


In  the  oeUs  of  No:  1  priBon  there  were 

2 
8 
4 
6 
6 

Total  Bleeping  in  aeparste  colli 

In  Dormitory  B  1 47 

B  2 66 

B3 44 

In  Infirmary 16 

Total  sleeping  in  aaaodation  .  —  161 


Female 
PriaoBen. 
21 

27 

28 

21 

28 

28 

28 

—  176 


99 


Total  on  Bride 


837 


In  the  cella  of  No.  1  prison  there  were 

19  2  „ 

fl  "  99 


99 


8 
6 
7 
8 


M  ^  »> 

Total  Bleeping  in  separate  cells 
In  Dormitory,  C  4         „ 
In  Nursery  „ 

Total  sleeping  in  assooiation 


12 
27 
27 
28 
26 
8 

—  128 

102 
44 

—  U6 


Total  hi  C  ride 
Bride 


»» 


274 
8)7 


Grand  total  locked  up  ia  the  female)   ^.^ 
prison  the  night  prenona  to  our  Tisit ) 


In  the  official  returns  to  the  Home  Secretary;  howeyer,  it  is  stated  that  the  female 
portion  of  the  prison  is  capable  of  containing  only  600  prisoners,  even  when  more  than  one 
prisoner  sleeps  in  a  cell ;  and  that  it  has  eepwrate  sleeping  accommodation  for  but  861 
women ;  and  yet  here  we  find  the  maxiitinm  accommodation  exceeded,  and  no  less  than  24S, 
or  more  than  40  per  cent.,  of  the  female  prisoners  huddled  together  in  dormitories  by  night 
— an  arrangement  which  partakes  of  all  the  worst  features  of  the  Kulksy  without  the  excuse 
of  ship-board  to  palliate  the  infamy. 

And  yet,  even  though  the  female  prison,  at  the  time  of  our  Tisit,  contained  more  woi&eii 
than  it  was  fitted  to  accommodate,  we  find,  by  the  official  returns,  that  it  is  oocasioQalh 
made  to  hold  some  three  score  more ;  for,  according  to  the  last  report,  the  greatest  number 
of  female  prisoners  located  within  it  at  one  time  during  the  year  ending  Michaelmas,  1855, 
was  not  less  than  676,  whilst  the  daily  average  of  female  prisoners  throughout  the  whole  of 
the  same  year  was  600 — ^the  very  point  of  its  mR-rimnm  accommodation. 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  469 

The  gross  population  of  the  female  prison  at  Westminster,  for  the  same  year,  was  as 
follows : — 

Number  of  female  prisoners  remaining  in  custody  at  the  close  of  the  ) 
year  ending  Michaelmas,  1854 )       ^^^ 

Number  of  prisoners   committed    in   the  course  of   the  year   ending ) 

Michaehnas,  1865 )    ^'^^® 

Gross  popijlation  of  the  female  prison  for  1855        .        .        .      5,982 

Of  this  number,  279,  or  4*6  per  cent,  of  the  whole,  were  imder  the  age  of  seventeen  yean. 
Of  the  279  juveniles,  241  had  been  summarily  convicted,  and  38  convicted  at  sessions ; 
whilst  of  the  5,703  adult  women,  4,655  were  imprisoned  upon  summary  convictions  and 
1,048  after  trial. 

We  have  before  drawn  attention  to  the  fact,  that  the  amount  of  sickness  among  the 
females  at  TothiU  JPields  is  uiiusually  high,  when  compared  with  that  of  the  female  prisons 
of  aU  England  and  Wales.  In  1853,  the  per  centage  of  indisposition  among  the  females  at 
the  Westminster  House  of  Correction  was  50*4,  whereas  that  for  the  female  prisoners 
throughout  the  country  for  the  same  year  was  20  per  cent,  less,  or  30*4  (see  pp.  370, 
371).  We  should  also  here  repeat,  that  the  punishments  at  the  female  prison  at  West- 
minster appear  to  be  excessive,  when  contrasted  with  those  inflicted  upon  the  same  class 
of  prisoners  throughout  England  and  Wales ;  for  whilst  the  average  ratio  of  pimishments 
to  the  number  of  female  prisoners  amounts  to  but  little  more  than  23  per  cent,  for  the  whole 
country,  it  is  upwards  of  half  as  much  again,  or  38^  per  cent.,  at  Tothill  Pields  prison. 

The  cells,  again,  in  the  female  branch  of  the  same  establishment  are  as  disgracefully 
defective,  both  as  regards  capacity  and  ventilation,  as  those  in  which  the  boys  are  located, 
whilst  they  are  also  as  utterly  deficient  of  all  means  of  heating  or  lighting  during  the  long 
winter  evenings,  the  women  being  then  locked  up  in  the  dark  and  cold  for  more  than  12 
hours  out  of  the  24 — a  practice  which  renders  it  impossible  to  prevent  them  talking  with 
the  inmates  of  the  neighbouring  cells,  as  we  were  assured  they  did  iminediately  the  night 
patrol  had  passed. 

It  is  but  just,  however,  while  repeating  these  strictures,  that  we  should  append  the 
counter-statement  of  one  of  the  Middlesex  magistrates,  who  says,  in  a  letter  addressed  to  us 
after  the  publication  of  our  previous  remarks  upon  the  economy  of  this  prison : — 

''  Many  thanks  for  the  proofs,  which  I  have  carefully  read,  and  which  appear  very 
correct. 

'*  You  will,  I  am  sure,  permit  me  to  add  a  few  words  in  explanation  respecting  the  ceUs, 
punishment  of  the  women,  &g. 

«  The  Westminster  prison  was  the  first  erected  on  an  improved  plan,  and  was  considered 
at  the  period  a  model  prison.  Experience  has,  however,  proved  that  it  is  far  from  perfect, 
neither  could  it  be  warmed  and  ventilated  in  an  efficient  manner  but  at  an  enormous  cost. 
The  question  has  been  often  under  the  consideration  of  the  visiting  justices,  but  from  this 
cause  has  been  abandoned. 

''Another  and  far  superior  course  has  been  adopted,  that  of  building  a  new  wing  on  the 
principle  of  Fentonville,  the  House  of  Detention,  &c.,  with  certified  cells,  at  an  expense  of 
£1 1,000.  The  works  will  be  commenced  in  a  few  days.  Should  this  wing  be  approved  of, 
tiie  entire  prison  can  be  altered,  the  plan  having  been  so  arranged. 

*' JRumifhmmts  of  the  Wamm. — These  arise  from  the  violation  of  the  prison  rules  under 
the  '  silent  associated  system '  (rules  which  are  not  required  under  the  *  separate  system'),  as 
well  as  frx>m  the  violent  conduct  of  the  prisoners  sent  for  short  terms,  and  from  the  great 
number  who  are  frequoit — ^I  may  add,  constant — ^inmates  of  our  prison,  and  who  are  almost 
always  under  punishment,  although  every  effort  has  b^^en  made  to  reform  them. 


470  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOJST. 

''  Sanitary  CondUiati  of  the  Frmn.-^Thd  number  of  caaes  of  alight  iadispoaitiaa  among 
the  women  arise — ^firstly,  from  women  being  subject  to  complaints  from  which  men  are  free; 
and,  secondly,  from  the  large  number  who  are  more  or  less  suffering,  on  entering  the  pnson, 
from  the  effects  of  intoxication,  dissipation,  and  starvation/' 

In  reply,  we  have  merely  to  urge  that  the  relative  amount  of  sickness  among  the  females 
at  this  prison  was  tested  by  that  of  other  females  at  aU  the  other  prisons  of  JBngUmd  and 
Wales,  so  that  the  plea  which  attributes  the  exoessivie  proportion  of  indisposition  among  the 
female  prisoners  at  To  thill  Fields  to  the  fact  that  women  are  subject  to  complaintB  from 
which  men  are  free  cannot  be  of  any  logical  avail. 

Again,  it  is  no  rational  justification  of  the  exoessiye  amount  of  punishment  inflicted 
upon  the  females  at  this  same  prison,  to  assert  that  it  ia  necessary  to  enforce  the  r^;u)atianfl 
of  the  silent  associated  system  of  prison  discipline ;  for  as  this  same  system  is  in  foroe  ia 
the  majority  of  prisons  throughout  England  and  Wales,  and  the  ratio  of  punishments  at 
Tothill  Fields  was  compared  with  that  of  the  aioerage  for  aU  the  female  prisons  of  Enfknd 
and  Wales,  it  follows,  either  that  the  discipline  of  other  prisons  must  be  most  lax,  or  elfle 
that  the  government  of  this  one  is  unnecessarily  harsh  and  tyrannical. 


^  ii. — K. 

Cf  the  School-room,  Workrooms,  and  Nursery,  and  *'  Own  Clothed  "  Stare  at  2\fthm 

Fields  Prison. 

The  are  two  school-rooms  in  the  females'  prison  at  Westminster,  one  in  C  8  for  wooaaa, 
and  the  other  in  B  8  for  girls. 

The  former  has  little  peculiar  about  it  to  warrant  special  description.  We  £Mmd  it 
fitted  with  rows  of  sloping  desks,  pierced  with  inkstands  similar  to  those  in  the  boys' 
prison  before  noticed,  and  the  walls  hung  with  the  same  didactic  illustrations. 

Here  the  women  learn  reading,  writing,  spelling,  catechism,  &c.,  the  daaaes  beoiff 
five  in  number,  and  including  altogether  122  aeholaiSy  all  of  whom  ar«  under  twmty* 
four  years  of  age,  **  though, ''  said  the  teacher  to  us,  ''we  take  any  above  that  age  that 
the  chaplain  may  please  to  send.''  Each  class  attends  the  school  for  an  hour  every  day. 
There  is  likewise  a  Bible-daas  which  receives  priaoaen  up  to  any  age — ^ihe  oldest  priMoer 
in  it  now  being  46.  "And,"  added  the  teacher,  "there's  36  women  in  the  oUbb  at 
present." 

Any  female  prisoner  can  go  to  school  if  she  expresses  a  wish  to  do  so ;  and  the  woaeiif 
we  were  told,  often  ask  to  be  allowed  to  attend  the  daaeea.  "  For  it's  a  great  relief  to  the 
prison  life,  and  they  know  they're  learning  something/'  continued  our  informant. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  nineteen  in  the  school-room,  and,  as  we  entered  it> 
the  women,  at  the  bidding  of  the  teacher,  rose  and  curtseyed. 

"  Some  of  the  women  here  have  learnt  fix>m  the  alphabet,"  said  the  warder,  pointug  to 
one  or  two  who  were  duller-looking  than  the  rest. 

As  we  glanced  along  the  three  rows  of  white  oaps,  there  was  not  one  abaahed  free  or 
averted  teaiiiil  eye  to  be  seen,  whilst  many  grinned  impudently  on  meeting  oar  gaae. 

The  warder,  to  let  us  see  the  acquirements  of  her  scholuv,  bade  one  of  them  nad  a 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  471 

passage  firom  the  Bible,  that  each  held  in  her  hand.  The  woman,  howeTer,  made  snoh  a 
sad  bungle  of  the  verse,  that  the  teachbr  had  again  to  assure  us  that  the  reader  had  learned 
her  letters  in  the  jail. 

The  other  school  at  Tothill  Fields,  is,  as  we  said,  devoted  to  the  education  of  the 
young  girls  imprisoned  there,  and  this  is  a  far  more  touching  scene  than  the  one  for  the  elder 
women,  for  here  the  pupils  are,  some  of  them,  of  such  tender  years  that  the  heart  positively 
aches  again  to  see  little  female  creatures  of  only  eight  years  of  age  habited  in  the  prison 
clothes,  and  their  faces  utterly  unfeminine  in  the  boldness  of  their  looks,  the  premature  leer 
in  their  eye,  and  wanton-like  smile  upon  their  Hp. 

This  was  a  half  cosy  little  room  fitted  with  forms,  on  which  some  sLzteen  mere  children 
were  seated.  Over  the  mantelpiece  hung  a  black  board,  on  which  was  painted  the  follow 
ing  notice : — 


PEI80NER8  ARE  NOT  TO  SPEAK 
TO  EACH  OTHER. 


And  beside  this  dangled  the  official  placard  concerning  '*  rax  bswasds  to  pbisoshsbs  vob 
GooB  coNDXTCT."  (Sco  foot  uoto,  p.  438).  Agalust  the  fire-place  stood  a  table,  on  which 
were  spread  samplers  and  round  patch-work  d'oyleys,  bordered  with  fringe  and  other  small 
mosaio-like  articles  of  needlework ;  while  the  floor,  though  bricken,  was  covered  with  a 
warm  rug. 

As  usual,  the  room  resounded  with  the  noise  of  the  pupils  rising  like  a  detachment  of 
little  soldiers,  as  our  attendant  matron  ushered  us  into  the  place. 

The  girl  prisoners  were  dad  in  blue  and  white-spotted  cotton  frocks,  and  caps  with  deep 
frilled  borders,  and  most  of  them  had  long  strips  of  shiny  straw  plait  dangling  from  their 
hands,  which  they  kept  working  at  instinctively  with  their  littie  fingers,  while  they  looked 
with  wonder  up  into  our  face.  Some,  as  usual,  were  pretty-looking  creatures,  that  enlisted 
all  one's  sympathies,  almost  to  tears,  in  their  fisivour,  whilst  others  had  so  prematurely  brazen 
a  look,  that  the  heart  shrunk  back  as  we  inwardly  shuddered  at  the  thought  that  our 
own  Httle  girl — ^half  angel  though  she  seem  now — bom  in  the  same  circumstances,  and 
reared  among  the  same  associates,  would  assuredly  have  been  the  same  young  fiend  as 
they. 

Here,  strange  to  say,  we  found  a  flaxen-haired,  £ur-faoed  little  boy,  who  held  fiist  hold 
of  the  matron's  hand,  and  clung  closer  to  her  skirts  at  the  sight  of  a  strange  man  in  the 
school. 

''He's  the  son  of  one  of  the  prisoners,  sir,''  said  the  matron,  as  we  rested  our  palm 
on  the  littie  fellow's  head,  to  assure  him  that  we  meant  no  harm  to  him.  "  His  mother  has 
got  four  years'  penal  servitude,  and  was  sent  away  to  Millbank ;  but  they  wouldn't  receive 
her  there  on  account  of  the  child,  since  they  had  no  nursery  at  that  place.  The  mother  and 
the  boy  have  been  here  two  years  now,  sir,  and  he  comes  to  us  every  day  to  learn  his 
prayers  and  letters.     His  name  is  Tommy." 

'*  Poor  little  man !  In  a  few  more  years,"  we  could  not  help  inwardly  exclaiming,  "you  will 
most  probably  make  your  appearance  in  this  same  prison — ^year  after  year — ^by  legal  right, 
rather  than  by  Government  suflerance ;  and  a  few  years  after  that,  again,  you  will  doubtiessly 
be  found  among  the  masked  convict  troop  at  Pentonville,  and  then  seen  labouring,  almost 
under  the  muzzle  of  a  warder's  musket,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  public  dock-yards  or 
Government  quarries ;  and,  finally,  all  trace  of  you  will  be  lost  in  the  gravestoneless  burial- 
ground  of  some  one  or  other  of  the  convict  prisons,  with  nothing  but  the  littie  blue  stunted 
convict-flower  lifting  its  head  above  your  grave. 

Poor  littie  felon  child !  how  like  are  you  to  this  same  littie,  stunted,  convict-flowei 


472  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOTf. 

dwarfed  in  your  moral  and  intellectaal  growth,  and  yet  here,  blooming  with  the  Tery  hue  of 
heaven  in  your  eyes,  amid  all  kinds  of  human  corruption  I 

''  Our  number  of  scholars,"  proceeded  the  teacher,  in  answer  to  our  question, "  varies  gene- 
rally from  20  to  23  or  24;  but  the  school  is  rather  low,  and  we  have  but  16  at  present." 

They  learn  writing,  ciphering,  and  catechism,  as  well  as  the  collect  for  the  next  Sunday. 

'*  Stend  up,  those  girls  who  are  going  to  say  the  collect  in  chapel  to-morrow,"  cried  the 
matron,  who  seemed  to  think,  naturally  enough  (for  it  is  the  great  fallacy  of  all  our  educa- 
tional systems),  that  to  convert  these  litUe  creatures  into  religious  parroto  is  really  to  make 
them  religious  agents. 

In  an  instant,  some  half-dozen  mere  children  started  up  from  their  seats,  in  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  fact  that  they  had  got  the  collect  by  rote,  though  it  was  dear,  from  their  yean, 
that  one  might  as  well  have  thought  to  have  made  ChristiaQs  of  them  by  teaching  them  to 
jabber  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  in  the  original  Greek. 

''That  little  girl,  there,"  continued  the  teacher,  ''is  the  youngest  we  have  here  at 
present ;  she  is  eight  years  old,  and  didn't  know  her  letters  when  she  came  in." 

The  little  felon-babe  stood  up,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of  the  officer,  while  we 
stooped  down  to  question  her  as  to  the  reason  why  a  tiny  thing  like  her,  that  could  hardly 
articulate  distinctly,  had  been  adjudged  a  felon. 

"  What  are  you  here  for  ?"  we  asked. 

"  Stealing  a  pair  of  boots,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Your  father  is  a  bricklayer,  is  he  not?"  inquired  the  matron,  on  our  tuniing  round  to 
interrogate  her  concerning  the  parents  of  the  child. 

The  little  prisoner  nodded  assent,  and  told  us  that  she  had  gone  out  with  her  brother  to 
steal  the  boots.  She  didn't  know,  however,  how  old  he  was,  but  was  sure  that  he  had 
never  been  in  prison,  and  that  he  did  not  go  out  thieving  regularly. 

We  then  asked  her  why  she  had  taken  the  boots,  and  her  answer  was,  "  'Cause  I  hadn't 
got  none  of  my  own." 

"  She  has  three  months'  imprisonment,"  the  warder  added. 

Now  surely  for  magistrates  to  put  the  brand  of  thief  upon  a  mere  infant  like  ttiis,  is  about 
upon  a  par,  both  in  intellect  and  humanity,  with  those  wiseacre  justices  of  the  olden  time 
who  sat  in  judgment  upon  corpses  for  the  heresy  of  their  souls  when  alive,  and  who  condemned 
dogs  to  be  burnt  as  witches.  When  wiU  society  be  made  to  understand  that  the  real  oriminali, 
in  cases  of  infantine  "  delinquency"  like  this,  are  the  parents  who  allow  their  oflbpring  to 
run  wild  in  the  streets,  and  not  the  little  children  that  Christ  himself  likened  in  their 
innocence  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  whom  even  the  law  considers  to  be  morally  incapable 
of  performing  any  act  of  their  own?  And  when  will  our  legislators  comprehend  the 
iniquity  as  well  as  absurdity  of  sending  mere  babies  to  associate  with  older  thieves  as  a  means 
of  teaching  them  right  from  wrong  ? 

"  The  next  in  age  is  ten,"  continued  the  matron.  "  Which  is  the  one  who  is  tenf 
she  inquired.     "  Oh !  you,  B ;  you  are,  eh  ?" 

Then  another  little  creature  stood  up,  and  she  was  but  an  ineh  or  two  higher  than  the 
last.  After  this  those  of  twelve  years  old  rose  frt>m  their  seats,  and  the  first  of  theee  to 
whom  we  spoke  had  three  red  stars  on  her  arm,  as  badges  of  good  conduct  during  her 
imprisonment,  whilst  she  drooped  her  eyelids,  as  we  questioned  her,  with  a  shame  that  was 
as  beautifrd  as  it  was  rare  to  behold  in  such  a  place. 

"  Bad  money,  sir,"  she  answered,  in  a  half  whisper,  to  our  inquiries  as  to  the  nature 
of  her  offence.  "Aunt  gave  it  me,  please,  sir;  I  was  along  with  her  when  I  was 
took." 

The  next  prisoner,  a  chubby-cheeked  thing  of  the  same  age,  said,  with  a  half-suppressed 
grin,  in  reply  to  our  interrogatory  as  to  what  she  was  in  prison  for,  "  Pickpocketing, 
please,  sir," 


u 


■m 
'm 


i.  ■:•!? 


HOUSE  OF  OOEBECTIO:Br,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  473 

• 

''  There's  anoiber  one  in  the  prison  on  the  same  charge  with  her,  but  she  was  taken  out 
of  this  room  for  bad  behavionr,"  interpsoed  the  matron  at  our  elbow.  ''The  other  one  dwe 
it,  sir,  and  gaye  it  to  me/'  said  the  child. 

"  This  girl  didn't  know  her  letters  when  ahe  came  here/'  tiie  warder  interposed. 

Another  child — a  red-headed  and  fireckled-faced  girl — whom  we  questioned^  though  but 
a  mere  baby  in  years,  had  been  twice  in  the  same  prison — ^tbe  first  time  for  six  months, 
and  om  this  occasion  for  twelve  months,  haying  stolen  some  things  from  a  reformatory  school 
to  which  she  had  been  sent  on  obtaining  her  liberty.  The  caoae  of  her  ''  delinquency"  was 
soon  explained ;  it  was  the  old  story. 

"  She  has  a  stepmother  that  isn't  over  kind  to  her,"  said  the  matron. 

"  But  why  did  you  steal  the  things  from  the  school  ?"  we  asked, 

''  I  did  it  because  they  didn't  give  me  enough  to  eat,"  was  the  reply.  '^  I  ran  away 
from  the  place,  for  I  didn't  want  to  stop  there.  It  was  a — ^Eefiige,  I  think  they  call  it — ^in 
St.  Giles's." 

The  warder  then  informed  us,  that  that  school-room  was  for  girls  up  to  the  age  of  sixteen ; 
and,  before  we  left,  she  exhibited  to  us  seyeral  of  the  copy-books  belonging  to  har  scholars — 
pointing  out  the  while,  with  no  slight  pride,  the  progress  that  the  wretched  little  creatures 
had  made  under  her  care.  It  should  be  added^  t^t  the  gradual  improvement  in  the 
penmanship  was  as  marked  as  it  was  creditable  to  her  zeal. 

''  That  girl,"  exdoimed  the  matron,  as  she  spread  open  a  book,  one  entire  page  of  which 
was  covered  with  repetitions  of  the  line— - 

'^  Have  peace  with  aU  men^^ 

**  had  never  handled  a  pen  until  she  came  here,  and  that's  only  a  few  weeks  ago." 

%*  2%s  Nursery  at  Tothill  Fields  Ptieon. — The  next  most  interesting  portion  of  the 
female  prison  at  Westminster  is  the  part  set  aside  for  the  mothara  and  their  infants,  and 
situate  in  l^o.  4  prison,  C  side,  immediately  under  what  is  termed  the  straw-plait  or  needle- 
room. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  was  some  half-score  iron  bedsteads  ranged  along  either  side 
of  the  room,  which  was  about  the  size  of  an  ordinary  bam.  Some  of  the  bedding  was  tamed 
back,  while  in  others  the  beds  were  ready  made  for  the  night.  At  the  comers  of  the  bed- 
steads sat  the  mothers  with  their  children  in  their  arms,  some  dancing  liiem  in  the  air — 
others  teaching  them,  as  they  lecmt  back,  to  walk  up  t^eir  bodies — ^and  others  tickling 
the  little  things  as  they  rolled  them  on  the  oounterpane;  whilst  the  entire  room  resounded 
with  the  kissing  and  prattling  of  the  mothers,  and  the  gnrgling,  and  crying,  and  laughing 
of  the  babes. 

There  were  altogether  33  children,  we  were  told,  th^  in  the  prison,  and  3  of  these  were 
under  6  months  old,  12  from  6  to  12  months,  and  the  remainder  between  1  and  2  years, 
^'beyond  which  age,"  said  our  informant,  ''we  seldom  receive  them  here,  though  I  have 
never  heard  of  any  limit  as  to  age ;  and  there  is  one  child  now  in  the  prison  who  is  four 
years  old,  but  that  is  because  his  mother  has  already  been  two  years  imprisoned  here." 

"  Sometimes,"  the  officer  went  on,  "  the  mothers  wish  to  send  their  children  out  again, 
stiU  that  is  but  rare.  As  a  rule,  I  really  don't  think  they  are  different  from  other  people 
in  their  feelings  for  their  little  ones,  and  some  of  them  are  very  fond  of  them ;  though  one 
woman  we  have  got  in  now  (she  is  just  behind  us)  treated  her  child  very  badly — so  bad, 
indeed,  that  we  were  obb'ged  to  take  it  from  her."  The  prisoner  referred  to  was  a  gloomy, 
morose-looking  creature,  and  scarcely  seemed  to  notice  tlie  in£uit  lying  in  her  lap,  even 
though  it  was  smiling  up  into  her  face. 

''  The  mothers,"  proceeded  the  warder,  as  we  ccmtinued  to  question  her,  **  have  all  a 
pound  and  a-half  of  oakum  to  pick  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  they  go  into  the  work- 
35» 


474  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LONDON. 

room  if  their  children  are  upwards  of  eight  months  old,  while  their  little  ones  are  taken 
care  of  by  the  women  remaining  in  the  nursery. 

**  There,  you  see,  is  a  woman  with  two  infants  yonder,  sitting  by  the  bed  near  the  door/* 
said  the  officer,  **  she's  minding  another  prisoner's  child.  Oh,  yes,  they're  very  good  and 
patient  to  one  another's  children,  and  we  seldom  have  cases  of  ill-treatment  here  to  punish." 

We  had  heard  that  the  nursery  at  Tothill  Fields  was  conducted  upon  the  silent  system, 
and  though  we  had  seen  enough  of  disciplinarian  folly  in  the  course  of  our  tour  round  the 
London  prisons,  nevertheless  we  could  hardly  beliere  that  prison  regulations  could  be  carried 
to  so  wicked  and  unfeeling  au  extreme. 

True,  at  the  female  prison  at  Brixton,  we  had  found  the  women  in  the  associated  wings 
allowed  to  conrerse  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  but  nevertheless  forced  to  break  off  dl 
communication  one  with  the  other,  and  to  observe  strict  silence  at  stated  intervals — thon^ 
for  what  earthly  reason,  or  for  what  fancied  good,  farther  than  the  mere  tyrannical  displaj 
of  authority,  it  was  difficult  to  divine ;  for  the  stranger  naturally  said  to  himself  if  inter- 
course among  prisoners  be  bad,  why  allow  them  to  speak  to  one  another  at  all  ?  and  if  it  be 
found  to  be  fraught  with  no  ill  effect,  why  this  arbitrary  imposition  of  silence  for  a  mere 
hour  at  a  time,  during  the  fore  and  after  part  of  the  day  ? 

Again,  we  had  found  the  prisoners  unmasked  at  the  convict  depot  at  MiUbank,  and  free 
to  recognize  their  former  associates  and  friends ;  whilst  at  Pentonville,  whither  they  were 
consigned  after  the  first  few  months  of  their  conviction,  their  faces  were  studiously  screened 
one  from  the  other,  and  even  the  chapel  parted  off  into  separate  bins,  as  it  were,  so  that 
each  should  be  kept  religiously  aloof  from  the  rest ;  whereas,  at  the  Hulks,  whither  they 
were  sent  after  some  nine  months  of  this  wretched  penal  masquerade,  theiir  &ces  were  again 
bare,  and  they  were  brought  into  closer  communion  than  they  could  even  enjoy  in  the  low 
lodging-houses  of  London. 

Further,  we  had  noted  that  the  work  to  which  the  convicts  were  put  at  one  prison  was 
discarded  inmiediately  they  had  become  in  any  way  skilled  at  it,  and  they  were  removed  to 
another.  The  prisoner  who  had  served  a  short  time  perhaps  at  gardening  at  Millbank, 
being  employed  at  tailoring  or  shoemaking  at  Pentonville,  and  then,  after  three-quarten  of 
a  year's  labour  at  such  work,  transferred  to  scraping  shot,  or  breaking^  stones,  or  stacking 
wood  at  Woolwich. 

Hence  we  were  fully  prepared  to  find  the  silent  system  at  the  Westminster  House  of 
Correction  carried  out  even  to  the  absurd  extreme  of  forbiddinig  mothers  to  prattle  to  their 
children,  and  infants  to  talk  and  gambol  with  one  another. 

Nevertheless,  we  are  happy  to  be  able  to  confess  that  we  were  in  error  upon  this  point, 
and  that  our  informant,  hearing  that  the  nursery  at  Tothill  Fields  was  conducted  on  the 
silent  system,  had  impressed  us  with  false  notions  as  to  the  regulations  in  force,  and  led  ns 
erroneously  to  imagine  that  the  little  prison  infants  were  reared  in  positive  silenoe— 
denied  even  the  privilege  of  listening  to  the  tones  of  their  mothers'  voice.  We  fonnd, 
however,  upon  investigation,  that  the  silence  enjoined  extended  merely  to  communicatian 
among  the  women  themselves,  the  mothers  being  not  only  allowed  to  speak  freely  to  their 
babes,  but  the  children  having  frill  liberty  to  talk  and  play  one  with  the  other ;  and,  in- 
deed, that  the  most  captious  could  not  fsdrly  quarrel  with  the  regulations  of  this  portion  of 
the  prison,  which  seemed  to  be  conducted  rather  with  aU  kindly  consideration  for  the 
wretched  women  and  children  confined  within  it. 

Sad  as  it  is  to  see  so  many  little  cherub  things  entering  life  in  such  a  place,  sdll  it  is 
due  to  the  prison  authorities  to  say  that  no  inhumanity  of  theirs  renders  the  wretched  lot  of 
the  inmates  more  wretched  than  it  necessarily  is. 

Indeed,  a  moment's  reflection  amid  such  scenes  as  these  is  sufficient  to  melt  even  the 
stoniest  natures ;  for  if  the  innocent  babbling  and  baby  pranks  of  the  little  felon  in£uits 
themselves  do  not  thrill  the  heart  with  a  positive  spasm  of  sympathy,  at  least  the  eyes  even 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  475 

of  the  Bteraest  stranger  must  tingle  with  compassion  to  note  the  wretched  mothers  caressing 
and  fondling  the  little  things,  as  if  they  were  the  only  hit  of  all  the  hlack,  hlank  world  with- 
out that  made  life  hearable  to  them. 

For  ourselves,  we  do  not  mind  confessing  that  the  sight  moyed  us  more  than  even  the 
highest  wrought  drama  we  had  ever  witnessed*  For  if  a  sense  of  the  miserable  start  in 
life  which  these  poor  little  things  have  made  touched  us  to  the  very  core— stranger  as  we  were, 
with  nothiog  but  our  common  humanity  to  make  the  after  fate  of  the  babes  worth  a  moment's 
thought  to  us — ''How/'  we  inwardly  exclaimed,  ''  must  it  wound  and  bruise  the  hearts  of 
those  wretched  mothers  to  find  the  very  being  in  the  world  whose  life  they  wished  to  be 
happier  and  brighter  than  any -other  in  creation,  beginning  its  young  days  with  a  gloom  and 
seeming  &te  about  it  that  was  almost  appalling  to  contemplate. 

Nor  is  it  any  sentimentality  on  our  part  that  leads  us  to  belieye  that  the  women  located 
in  this  portion  of  the  prison  are  of  a  superior  caste  to  those  seen  in  the  other  wards  of  the 
same  institution.  Not  only  do  we  miss  here  the  brazen  looks  and  the  apparent  glorying  in 
their  shame  that  prevails  among  the  more  debased  of  the  female  prisoners,  but  there  is  a 
greater  gravity,  as  well  as  a  seeming  sadness,  impressed  upon  the  countenances  of  the 
mothers  in  the  nursery  that  makes  the  visitor  at  once  respect  the  misery,  and  pity  rather 
than  loathe  the  degraded  situation  of  the  poor  creatures. 

Again,  the  very  fact  of  their  being  mothers  is  sufficient  to  prove  that  these  piisoners 
do  not  belong  to  the  class  of  ''  public  women,"  since  it  is  a  wondrous  ordination  of  Benevo- 
lence that  such  creatures  as  are  absolutely  shameless  and  affectionless  should  be  childless 
as  well ;  so  that  the  sight  of  these  baby  prisoners  was  at  once  a  proof  to  us  that  the  hearts  of  the 
women  that  bore^  them  were  not  utterly  withered  and  corrupt,  and  that  they  still  had  suffi- 
cient humanity  left  to  feel  at  once  the  degradation  of  their  own  position,  and  to  almost  hate 
themselves  for  the  atmosphere  of  misery  which  their  crimes  had  wrapt  about  the  lives  of 
their  little  ones. 

Such  thoughts  as  these,  flitting  fltflilly  through  the  brain,  render  the  prison  nursery 
perhaps  the  most  deeply  pathetic  of  all  the  scenes  in  the  world.  The  maternal  fondling 
here  is  no  longer  lovely  to  see,  but  positively  sad  and  solemn  to  behold. 

That  woman  yonder  who  keeps  dabbing  her  hand  over  her  little  one's  mouth,  in  order 
to  make  it  babble  again,  how  gravely  and  almost  mournfully  does  she  seem  to  pla^f  with 
the  child! 

This  one,  again,  suckling  her  infant,  has  her  eyes  fixed  intently  on  the  babe,  as  it  digs 
its  head,  like  a  young  lamb,  against  its  mother's  side,  and  we  can  almost  guess  the  wild 
conflict  of  emotion  that  is  raging  in  her  heart  the  while. 

Yonder  woman,  too,  who  has  placed  her  infant  to  kick  and  roll  on  the  bed,  and  is  leaning 
over  it  now,  as  with  her  apron-strings  she  tickles  it  in  the  folds  of  its  fat  littie  neck,  seems 
barely  to  rejoice  in  its  smiles,  for  she  is  probably  speculating  at  one  moment  as  to  what 
wretdied  fate  .awaits  it  in  the  world ;  the  next  minute  praying  to  have  it  dead  in  her  lap  ; 
and  then,  as  she  snatches  it  up,  and  hugs  it  half  frantically  to  her  bosom,  wishing  die 
were  as  innocent  as  it,  and  prizing  it  as  the  only  thing  that  still  loves  and  clings  to  her  in 
all  the  world. 

As  we  stood  noting  these  things  in  our  book,  the  littie  flaxen-haired  boy,  whom  we  had 
seen  in  the  school-room  at  the  earlier  part  of  our  visit,  came  and  looked  up  in  our  face, 
wondering  at  what  we  were  doing  there. 

The  bright  blue  eyes  of  the  littie  creature  gazing  intentiy  at  us,  set  us  thinking  again 
of  the  stunted  convict-flower,  shining  like  a  faint  spark  of  heaven's  light  amid  the 
-^thering  hearts  of  the  unheeded  felons. 

%*  The  Female  Wori  and  Work-roam  at  TotMU  Fields  iVwon.— There  is  littie  in  con- 
nection with  this  part  of  our  subject  demanding  special  mention.    Neither  crank-work  nor 


476  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

treadwiieel-work,  nor  ptunp-wosfk,  nor^  indeed,  any  of  those  repnlsiye  and  nnftmimne 
fonni  of  hard  labour  to  Trliicli  women  were  put  only  a  few  years  ago  in  our  priaoafly  any 
longer  prevail  at  the  WeBtminster  House  of  Correction. 

The  forms  of  labour  pursued  in  this  establishment  hare  assuredly  nothing  harsh  nor 
unwomanly  about  them,  and  nothing,  we  should  add,  to  which  it  is  possible,  eren  for  the 
most  fastidious,  to  raise  an  objection.  For  though,  if  the  prison  itself  were  situate  in  the 
suburbs,  and  the  more  profitable  employment  of  market-gardening  resorted  to,  it  might  be 
possible  to  render  the  prisoners  self-supporting  (and  Mr.  Charles  Pearson  has  prored,  befon 
a  Parliamentary  Committee,  that  1,000  prisoners  occupied  on  1,000  acres  would  be 
sufficient  to  reduce  the  cost  of  maintenance,  and  even  superintendence,  to  nil;  wheivas  at 
Tothill  Fields  prison  the  average  earnings  of  the  inmates  are  but  £1  15«.  9|i.  per  head  per 
annum ;  whilst  the  annual  cost  of  their  food  and  clothing  amounts  to  £9  7«.  1 0|  J. ,  and  that  of 
superintendence  to  £9  16s.  more-^-each  individual  confined  there  thus  costing  the  county 
nearly  £20,  and  earning  less  than  £2  in  the  course  of  the  year) ;  nevertheless,  so  long  as  our 
jails  are  allowed  to  remain  in  our  towns — ^where  they  are  no  more  fit  to  be  than  grave- 
yard»-— we  must  acknowledge  that}  at  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction,  the  women  are 
employed  in  the  fittest  as  well  as  most  prudent  manner  possible  under  the  circumstances. 

Though  we  hold  that  a  heavy  wrong  is  done  to  the  community  by  every  individual  that 
is  not  self-supporting  within  it,  and  that  it  should  be  one  of  the  main  objects  of  those  placed 
in  authority  over  the  people  to  render  each  person  in  the  State  capable  of  self-maintenance ; 
stUl  it  appears  to  us  to  be  most  inconsiderate,  if  not  wicked,  on  the  part  of  prison  officials 
to  set  criminals  to  work  at  those  occupations  for  which  the  markets  are  already  overstocked, 
and  by  which  the  honest  poor  out  of  doors  find  it  difficult  to  eke  out  their  lives.  For  since 
it  is  obvious  that  criminal  labour  can  be  sold  cheaper  than  any  other,  which  requires 
the  minimum  price  paid  for  it  to  be  sufficient  to  cover  the  cost  of  the  maintenance  of  the 
labourer,  honest  folk  can  only  compete  with  such  work  by  becoming  criminal  in  return, 
and  adding  to  their  wages  either  by  prostitution  or  theft. 

We  have,  in  another  place,  shown  this  to  be  the  rule,  more  particularly  among  the  badly- 
paid  slop-workers  of  the  Metropolis ;  and  yet  we  find,  at  Srixton  and  Millbank,  the  prisoners 
engaged  in  executing  latge  contracts  fbr  the  Houndsditch  Jews,  and  thus  rendering  honesty 
and  virtue  more  and  more  hard  to  be  carried  on  in  connection  with  industry  at  the  east  end 
of  the  Metropolis. 

It  is  but  just,  however,  to  the  Middlesex  magistrates  to  make  known,  that  at  Tothill 
Fields  we  do  not  find  the  women  engaged,  as  we  noted  them  at  Brixton,  in  making  up  shirts 
for  Moses,  or  employed,  as  at  MiUbank,  in  "  sank"  work  for  the  more  competitive  of  the  amy 
clothiers — ^the  work  done  by  the  females  at  Westminster  being  merely  such  as  is  required 
and  used  at  the  other  county  establishments,  and  none,  so  far  as  we  could  ascertain,  going 
into  the  market  to  beat  down  the  wages  of  independent  and  honest  workpeople. 

The  several  forms  of  labour  pursued  at  this  prison  are  oakum-picking,  straw-plaiting, 
knitting,  and  laundry- work ;  whilst  the  majority  of  the  work  done  goes  to  th^  county 
lunatic  asylum  at  Hanwell. 

In  these  work-rooms  one  sees  almost  the  same  large  assemblages  of  criminals  as  at  Cold- 
bath  Fields,  and  the  sight  of  the  dense  mass  of  female  infamy,  clad  in  the  one  monotonous 
prison  dress,  and  all  as  silent  as  death,  produces  an  intensely  powerful  effect  upon  the  mind; 
whilst  the  contemplation  of  such  an  immense  variety  of  feature,  impresses  the  beholder 
with  a  sense  that  every  form  of  physical  as  well  as  moral  ugliness  is  here  presented  to  his 
view ;  for  there  is  scarcely  one  well-formed,  and  certainly  not  one  innocent-looking,  &ce  to  he 
detected  among  the  wretched  crowd,  and  in  the  countenances  of  many  the  marks  of  prema- 
ture disease,  or  of  long-continued  ill-treatment,  or  confirmed  dissipation  may  be  noted— 
the  lingering  bromsy  traces  of  the  blackened  eye— the  blotched  and  crimson  cheeks,  and 


HOUSl;  OF  CORRECTION,  TOTHUL  FIELDS. 


477 


the  canceroiiB  nose — ^together  with  the  callous  and  brazen  smile  on  eyery  lip,  and  startling 
fihamelesflness  in  every  glance— of  the  young  as  well  as  old — all  senre  to  make  up  a  picture 
and  a  scene  that  has  not  its  parallel  for  hideousness  in  the  civilized  world.* 

The  oakum-room  is  a  large  shed  similar  to  that  in  the  boys'  prison,  and  situate  at  the  end 
of  C  8  yard.  Here  we  found  some  200  and  odd  women  ranged  upon  several  long  benches,  and 
with  the  warders  stationed  round  the  room — the  work  differing  in  no  way  from  that  already 
described  in  connection  with  the  boys ;  while  the  most  ghost-like  silence  reigned  throughout 
the  place — :th6re  being  no  attempt  made  either  to.  instruct  or  occupy  the  minds  of  the 
prisoners  during  the  operation. 

The  females  under  the  age  of  16,  as  well  as  those  staying  in  the  nursery,  have  1  lb.  of 
oakum  to  pick  per  diem,  whereas  the  boys  under  the  same  age  have  to  do  1^  lbs.;  and  the 
females  of  16  years  and  upwards,  1^  lbs.,  whilst  the  elder  boys  have  2  lbs. 

In  the  course  of  the  week  preceding  our  visit,  there  had  been,  on  an  average,  187  women 
aad  girls  employed  at  oakum-work  daOy  (see  p.  401),  and  these  had  picked  altogether  a  few 
pounds  more  than  13  cwt.  during  that  time,  which  is  at  the  rate  of  2  cwt.  and  20  lbs.  for  the 
whole  of  the  females,  and  not  quite  1  lb.  5  oz.  for  each  daOy — ^the  average  for  the  boys 
being  a  fraction  more  than  1  lb.  6  oz.  each  per  diem.  Accordingly,  it  will  be  found  that 
there  is  rather  more  than  33  cvrt.  of  oakum  picked  by  the  female  prisoners  collectively  in 
the  course  of  the  year,  and  this,  at  the  price  of  £4  10«.  the  cwt.  paid  by  the  contractor  for 
the  picking,  would  make  the  aggregate  earnings  of  the  women  and  girls  employed  at  this 
work  amount  to  very  nearly  £150,  or  a  fraction  more  than  15«.  each  per  annum,  whilst  the 
bo3r8,  severally,  earn  about  I7a,  per  annum. 

The  women  are  all  clad  in  close  white  caps  with  deep  frills,  and  a  loose  blue  and  white 
spotted  dress,  so  that,  from  the  colours  being  more  marked  than  those  in  the  boys'  prison, 
the  sight  of  the  assembly  has  a  far  more  peculiar  effect.  Some  of  the  prisoners  have 
a  number  stitched  upon  their  arm,  to  indicate  that  they  are  there  for  three  months  and 

*  The  ratio  of  recommittals  among  the  women  of  Tothill  Fields  shows  the  female  prisoners  there  to  belong, 
generally  speaking,  to  the  most  hardened  class  of  offenders— 27*0  per  cent,  of  them  having  been  imprisoned 
four  times  and  more. 

TAAUB  SHOWING  THS  KT7UBSR  OP  FBMAlES  DfF&ISOiraD  IN  THB  WISTlCINSnB  V0U8B  07  OOBBXCTION  IN 

THB   COUBSB  OF  THB  YBABS  BNDINO  MICHABUUlS,   1861-55. 


• 

Years,  fto. 

Freyioiialy  Ckmunitted. 

Total  No. 
of  com- 
mittals. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Thrice. 

Four  timet 
and  more. 

Total  No. 
recom- 
mitted. 

1851  .... 

1852  .... 

1853  .... 

1854  .... 

1855  .... 

Total.    .    .    . 
Annual  mean  . 
Per  centage     . 

834 
852 
855 
856 
893 

358 
441 
455 
469 
494 

149 
220 
254 
241 
251 

1,228 
1,897 
1,622 
1,671 
1,508 

2,569 
2,910 
3,186 
3,237 
3,146 

5,082 
5,343 
5,506 
5,753 
5,359 

4,290 

2,217 

1,115 

7,426 

15,048 

27,043 

858 

443 

223 

1,485 

3,009 

5,408 

15-9 

8-3 

4-2 

27-0 

65-5 

100*0 

By  the  above  data,  then,  we  see  that  more  than  one-half  {55-6  per  cent)  of  the  females  comflutted  to 
Tothill  Fields  are  old  habitual  offenders — ^not  less  than  27*0  per  cent,  of  the  entire  number  of  persons  com- 
mitted to  the  prison  haTing  been  there/otir  itmM  and  more !  previously.  Of  the  boys  at  the  same  prison, 
however,  only  46*7  per  cent,  have  been  before  committed  (see  p.  409),  whilst  the  ratio  of  recommitted 
prisoners  of  all  ages  and  both  sexes,  throughout  England  and  Wales,  is  only  25*3  per  cent. ;  so  that  it  would 
appe«f  that  the  females  return  to  the  Westminster  House  of  Correction  in  mor$  than  doubU  the  average  p»>- 
poiiion  for  all  other  prisons  I 


478 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


over,  and  entitled  to  the  first-class  diet ;  whilst  the  anns  of  others  are  marked  with  a  doth 
figure  of  2,  as  a  sign  that  their  term  of  imprisonment  is  less  than  three  months  and  more 
than  twenty-one  days.  A  large  proportion  of  the  women,  on  the  other  hand,  ha^e  no 
such  marks  upon  their  sleeves,  and  these  are  what  are  technically  termed  ''  days*  women," 
being  there  merely  for  a  week  or  two,  and  mostly  in  default  of  payment  of  some  small 
fine.* 


*  The  following  table  shows  the  tenns  of  impruonment  undergone  by  the  femslee  at  Totbill  Fields  lor  a 
series  of  years : — 

^  TABLB  SHOWING  TUB  TSBMB   OF  IMPKISONMBNT  OF  THE  WOMEN  TN  TOTHILL  FISUM  PRISON 

FKOM   1851   TO   1855. 


Terms  of  imprisonment. 

1851. 

1852. 

1853. 

1854. 

1855. 

III 
1^1 

XJndtr  14  <&iy«. 

Girls  under  seventeen     •    .     . 
Women  above  serenteen .    .    . 

Total 

93 
2,119 

91 
2,251 

105 
2,134 

74 
2,172 

80 
1,974 

88 
2^80 

1< 

89-3 

2,212 

2,342 

2,239 

2,246 

2,054 

2,218 

40-9 

14  doMM  mid  under  1  month, 

GirU 

Women 

Total 

63 
1,312 

51 
1,251 

61 
1,836 

61 
1,224 

60 
1,257 

69 
1,276 

11 
28-5 

1,375 

1,302 

1,397 

1,285 

1,317 

1,835 

24*6 

1  month  and  under  2  mowtha. 

Girls 

Women 

Total 

25 
741 

33 

797 

43 
898 

65 
914 

53 
824 

44 

836 

0-8 
16-4 

766 

830 

941 

979 

877 

879 

16-2 

2  monihe  and  under  3  months. 

Girls 

Women 

Total 

8 
184 

6 
154 

13 
166 

18 
248 

29 
256 

16 
201 

0-3 
87 

192 

160 

179 

266 

286 

216 

4-0 

8  monthe  and  under  6  monthe. 

Girls 

25 
328 

32 
277 

21 
256 

89 
845 

25 

818 

28 
806 

0*6 

5-7 

Women 

Total 

853 

309 

277 

384 

843 

338 

6-2 

1 

6  monthe  and  under  1  year. 

Girls 

14 
308 

9 
280 

22 
305 

14 
431 

14 
823 

16 

329 

1 

0-8    1 

Women 

Total 

61 

322 

289 

827 

445 

1 

337 

344 

6-4    • 

1  vear  and  ahovi* 

Girls 

Women 

Total 

1 
88 

0 
76 

4 

98 

8 
104 

1 
102 

2 
98 

Oil 
1-7 

89 

76 

102 

107 

103 

96 

1*7 

Tottd  commUtdle, 

Giris 

Women 

• 

Grand  total  .... 

229 
5,080 

222 
5,086 

269 
5,193 

274 
5,438 

262 
5,054 

261 
6,170 

4'« 

96-4 

5,309 

5,308 

5,462 

5,712 

5,816 

6,421 

100*0 

1 

Here,  then,  we  peroelre  that  nearly  one-half,  or  40*9  per  oent.,  of  the  females  oonfined  m  this  prison  siv 
•ent  there  for  less  than  fourteen  days,  so  that  a  large  number  of  the  prisoners  keep  retnraing  periodiosUy 


GATEWAY  AT  NEWGATB, 

WITH  GBODP  OF  FSlSOKEBa'  FBIEHDt  WAITIXa  TO  BE  ADHITTKD. 


.  HOUSE  OP  COREECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  479 

On  the  occasion  of  our  visit,  we  sought  to  luoeirtam  what  proportion  of  the  whole  of  the 
women  present  in  the  oakum-room  was  imprisoned  for  their  inability  to  pay  the  few  shillings 
penalty  to  which  they  had  been  adjudged ;  and  no  sooner  had  the  mabron  requested  all 
those  who  were  there  for  fines  to  stand  up,  than  almost  every  third  woman  started  from  her 
Beat,  and,  upon  counting  up  the  number  that  had  risen,  we  found  there  were  some  60  out 
of  180  odd;  whilst  one  wretched  woman,  fancying  we  were  some  one  in  authority,  began 
raving  away  from  the  back  of  the  room^  saying,  that  she  "  ought  to  have  gone  out  that 
morning  as  her  three  weeks  were  up." 

Thus,  then,  it  woxdd  appear  that  were  the  principle  of  payment  by  instalment  esta- 

bliahed  for  fines  as  well  as  small  debts,  the  female  prison  at  Tothill  Fields  would  most 

probably  be  considerably  thinned  of  its  inmates,  and  those  who,  in  the  eyes  of  justice,  can 

only  be  regarded  as  ''  Crown  debtors,''  no  longer  ranked  as  felons.     For  admitting  that 

many  either  would  not  or  could  not  pay  a  few  pence  per  week  in  liquidation  of  the  penalty 

imposed,  and  assuming  that  only  one-half  did  so  (though  the  experience  of  the  county  courts 

would  make  us  believe  that  Hiere  would  not  be  a  tithe  of  the  number  defaulters),  it  is 

manifest  that  not  only  would  the  Gk)vemment  be  acting  up  to  the  very  first  principle  of 

enlig^htened  penology,  viz.,  to  endeavour  to  keep  people  out  of  prison  as  long  as  possible, 

ratlier  than  thrust  them  into  it  for  the  most  trivial  offenoes--but  the  country  would  be 

saTod  some  hundred  thousands  per  annum  in  prison  expenses.    Thus,  according  to  the  latest 

retorasy  the  grand  total  of  the  gross  cost  of  all  the  prisons  of  England  and  Wales  (exclusive 

of   the  Government  establishments  for  convicts)  amounts  to  upwards  of  £450,000  per 

annnm,  or  nearly  £27  per  head,  for  a  daily  average  of  16,691  prisoners,  so  that  as  the  mean 

ftTiTtTifll  earnings  of  each  prisoner  are  only  a  fraction  more  than  £2,  there  is  a  clear  loss  of 

jnst  npon  £25  upon  every  one  imprisoned  throughout  the  year.     Hence,  supposing  there  to 

be  only  one-fourth  of  the  average  number  of  prisoners  confined  for  non-payment  of  their  fines 

(and  out  of  the  gross  number  of  committals,  75  per  cent,  are  summary  convictions,  imder 

whioh  the  fines  are  generally  imposed),  it  is  obvious  that>  even  if  we  admit  only  half  the 

penalties  to  be  paid  up  imder  such  an  arrangement,  the  country  would  be  an  immense 

gainer  by  the  change — ^receiving  not  only  the  fines  which  it  now  loses,  but  saving  the 

expense  of  keeping  25  per  cent,  of  the  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  throughout  the 

year,  which,  at  the  nett  cost  of  £25  per  he6ul,  would  leave  a  clear  profit  of  not  less  than 

£100,000  a-year. 

to  tha  place ;  trhilflt  an  much  as  66-5  per  G«nt.  of  the  trhole  are  imprieoned  for  leu  than  one  mosthi  and  as 
numy  as  fonr-fiftha  of  the  groaa  number  of  committals  for  leas  than  two  months.  The  same  rule  holds  good 
even  with  the  girU,  more  than  one-half  being  committed  for  terms  that  render  it  impossible  to  make  the 
least  impression  upon  their  natures,  and  which  serre  to  convert  the  prison  into  a  temporary  "  refuge  for  the 
dcetitate"  rather  than  a  place  of  penance  and  reformation.  By  reference  to  the  tahle  given  at  p.  422, 
showing  the  length  of  the  imprisonments  for  the  boys  at  the  same  prison,  it  will  be  found  that  upwards  of 
65  per  cent,  of  the  young  male  prisoners  are  oommitted  for  short  terms  likewise.  The  present  table,  how- 
ever, allows  like  that  for  the  boys  before  given-— that  there  has  been  a  tendency  of  late  on  the  part  of  tho 
niAgisrates  to  lengthen  the  terms  of  imprisonment ;  for  it  will  be  seen  that  the  number  of  committals  for  Uu 
than  one  month,  both  for  the  girls  as  well  as  women,  haye  been  considerably  reduced  in  number  since  1851, 
whiUt  those  for  mors  than  one  month  have  been  correspondingly  increased. 

"  After  the  age  of  seventeen,  a  lamentable  increase,"  say  the  visiting  justices  in  their  last  special  report, 
<<  oceurs  in  the  number  of  girls  committed  to  the  prison  at  Westminster."  A  fact,  by-the*by,  which  per- 
fectly agrees  with  the  statistios  of  female  crime  before  cited.  "  It  is  probable^"  the  justices  add,  *'  that 
before  this  age  the  girls  are  kept  more  at  home  than  boyS)  and  have  less  opportunity  of  beoomiog  corrupted 
by  Ticions  association ;  whereas,  after  it,  they  are,  on  the  other  hand,  thrown  on  their  own  resources, 
without  having  received  either  moral  or  religious  instruction,  and  get  engaged  as  servants  in  situations 
where  their  morals  are  neglected,  and  where  neither  their  comforts  nor  happiness  are  cared  for,  so  that, 
ezpoaed  to  evil  ctamples  and  to  the  artifices  of  the  depraved,  it  is  not  singular  that  they  should  fall ;  and 
bavins  fladlen,  having  lost  friends  and  character,  they  i^ould  in  despair  resign  themselves  to  an  abandoned 
life,  and  beco&e  frequent  inmates  of  the  prieon." 


480  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  straw-plait  room  is  situate  on  the  first  floor  of  prison  4, 0  side ;  it  extends  the  whole 
length  of  the  wing,  and  the  engraving  which  we  have  given  will  afford  a  fEur  better  idea  of 
the  scene  there  presented  to  the  Yiew>  than  any  string  of  words  can  possibly  convey  to  the 

mind. 

Here,  again,  there  are  some  two  hundred  prisoners  working  in  the  most  oppreasiTa 
silence,  and  seeming  as  they  twiddle  the  straws  in  and  out  their  flngers,  without 
uttering  a  word,  as  if  they  were  all  wrapt  in  a  profound  dream,  and  mechanically 
performing  some  every-day  work  with  their  eyes  wide  open,  as  somnambulists  are  wont 

to  do. 

The  loquacity  of  women  has  grown  into  a  proverb  among  us,  so  that  all  can  readily 
understand  how  hard  female  prisoners  must  find  it  to  have  to  remain  for  six  hours  every 
day  working  in  stark  silence,  dose  beside  those  who  are  suffering  in  common  with  them* 
selves. 

We,  however,  who  have  heard  the  positive  outburst  of  talking  that  occurs  among 
the  women  at  Brixton  the  very  instant  that  the  striking  of  the  dock  annoimces  the  silent 
hour  to  be  at  an  end,  can  frame  some  slight  notion  as  to  the  galling  irritation  of  tha 
restraint  imposed  upon  the  women's  tongues  at  Tothill  Fields.  Indeed  the  reader  has  bat 
to  turn  to  the  table  at  p.  375,  showing  the  number  of  punishments  annually  inflicted  upon 
the  females  at  this  prison,  in  order  to  discover  how,  to  reduce  the  poor  wretches  to  dumbness, 
the  food  itself  has  to  be  continually  cut  ofi^  and  even  handcufib  and  ''  other  irons"  resorted 
to,  and  that  to  a  degree  far  beyond  what  is  found  necessary  to  enforce  the  discipline  at  any 
other  female  prison  in  the  kingdom. 

Still,  it  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to  the  minds  of  any  of  the  visiting  justioefl, 
that  the  time  thus  absolutely  and  wilftdly  wasted  in  silence  might  easily  be  turned  to 
profitable  account,  as  weU  as  the  excessive  amount  of  punishment  decreased  by  plaeing 
some  one  to  read  to  the  women,  during  their  work,  from  some  interesting  and  good  book ; 
and  the  poor  wretches  thus  be  no  longer  left,  from  sheer  want  of  some  slight  mental  oocupa- 
tion,  to  brood  hour  after  hour  over  their  own  thoughts  imtil  they  irritate  themselves  almost 
to  madness  under  the  galling  and  petty  tyranny  of  the  *'  system." 

"  The  women  like  the  straw-plaiting  at  first,"  said  the  matron  to  us,  ''  but  they  soon 
get  tired  of  it ;  and  they  dislike  it  in  winter  especially,  because  ifs  odd  to  the  fingen. 
They  generally  wish  to  get  away  to  some  new  pursuit  after  a  short  time,  for  they  cannot 
bear  to  sit  long  at  the  same  thing.  I  don't  know,"  the  warder  went  on,  "  that  they  axB 
different  in  this  respect  to  other  people,  but  out  of  doors  they  have  many  things  to  employ 
their  mind  which  they  don't  find  here.  Besides,  it's  a  long  time  to  be  over  the  same  work, 
and  that,  too,  without  speaking  a  single  word.  The  long-term  women,"  added  the  offioeri 
*'  we  send  to  the  work-room,  and  some  go  to  the  oakum-room,  though  they  are  mostly  f(ff 
seven,  fourteen,  or  twenty-one  days  who  are  set  to  oakum-piddng.  All  prisoners  pass 
through  the  G  prison  first.  Some  may  be  there  for  a  fortnight,  and  some  only  for  a  few 
days;  the  length  of  time  depends  upon  the  number  going  out,  but  aU  the  women  axe  plaoed 
in  the  oakum-room  immediatdy  on  their  entering  the  prison. 

''There's  a  great  number  of  bonnets  and  hats  made  here,"  proceeded  the  matron,  "for 
the  lunatics  at  the  Hanwell  Asylum ;  none  of  the  things  we  make  are  sold  to  the  shops. 
Sometimes  ladies  order  bonnets  of  us,  which  they  wish  to  give  away  to  some  institution; 
but  no  work  is  done  here  for  the  trade.  We've  been  doing  straw-work  since  ihe  last 
four  years.  That  basket  there  is  very  niody  made.  We've  not  long  b^;un  that  styla 
of  work;  indeed,  that's  only  the  second  we've  finished.  One  of  the  magistrates  had  the 
first." 

The  basket  to  which  our  attention  was  drawn  was  a  small  hand-basket,  somewhat  of 
the  shape  of  a  portable  writing-desk,  and  the  straw  worked  into  a  series  of  small  pynmida, 
after  the  fiidiionof  a  pine-apple.    This  stood  on  a  large  counter  at  the  end  of  the  room,  i^oa 


HOUSE  OF  CORBECTION,  TOTHTLL  FIELDS.  481 

wbicli  were  azranged  small  sheayes  of  new  strawi  and  one  or  two  planter-like  ronnd  hats  for 
ladieB,  of  the  open  pastry-work  class  of  **  fancy"  mannflEUstare;  and  near  this  was  a  prisoner 
scrubbing  away  at  a  new  straw  bonnet  on  a  block,  whilst  one  or  two  of  the  warders  were 
examining  a  lady's  hat  that  stood  ready  trimmed  on  the  dresser. ' 

''  This  is  rather  a  dnll  pink,  ain't  it,  Mrs.  ?"  inquired  one  of  the  matrons  of 

the  female  superintendent,  as  she  raised  one  of  the  strings  of  the  ready-trimmed  round 

hats.     "  Yes,  it  is  rather  dull,''  was  the  reply;  <' but  you  know  gay  colours,  Miss , 

won't  do  here." 

The  knitting-room  is  situate  in  prison  1,  B  side,  and  is  remarkable  only  for  its  slanting, 
pew-like  arrangement — an  elaborate  piece  of  absurdity,  designed  by  some  wiseacre  with  a 
view  to  prerent  the  female  prisoners  talking,  but  which,  owing  to  the  high  wooden  partition 
at  the  back  of  each  row  of  prisoners  acting  as  a  sounding-board,  has  served  as  the  best  pos* 
sible  contriyance  for  allowing  them  to  communicate  in  secret. 

This  place  is  about  the  size  of  a  yUlage  school-room,  and  contained,  at  the  time  of  our 
yisit,  some  85  women,  all  ranged  on  the  slant,  as  it  were,  in  long  narrow  pews,  stretching 
diagonally  across  the  room.  Just  peeping  aboye  the  tops  of  the  partitions,  the  white  caps  of 
the  prisoners  could  be  seen,  while  ranged  along  the  wall  upon  a  raised  gallery,  stood  a 
couple  of  warders  looking  down  into  the  sloping  troughs,  as  it  were,  and  crying  occasionally, 
''  I  can  hear  some  one  talking  there,"  though,  by  the  ingenious  arrangement,  it  was  now 
almost  impossible  to  detect  the  offender — en  arrangement  which,  if  the  justices  had  been 
acquainted  with  the  commonest  rules  of  acoustics,  would  assuredly  neyer  haye  been  exe- 
cuted ;  and  one  which,  had  they  the  least  knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  been  aware  that 
it  is  better  and  safer  at  all  times  to  lead  than  to  drive  people  towards  any  end  in  view,  they 
would  never  have  listened  to  for  a  moment,  but  have  preferred  to  have  afforded  the  women 
some  mental  occupation  over  their  work,  as  a  means  of  winning  them  into  silence,  rather 
than  seeking  to  force  them  into  it  by  pure  carpentry. 

The  laundry-work  calls  for  no  particular  notice,  farther  than  saying  that  on  the  occasion 
of  our  visit  there  were  some  fifteen  women  employed  in  it,  and  that  it  was  conducted  on  the 
silent  system,  the  women,  though  working  in  association,  having  two  warders  placed  over 
them,  in  order  to  prevent  commmiication  among  them. 

Kor  would  our  account  be  complete  did  we  omit  to  state,  that  at  half-past  four  the 
women  cease  working — after  which  time  they  are  permitted  to  read  if  they  like,  books  being 
supplied  to  them  for  the  purpose — and  that  at  six  o'clock  they  are  locked  up  in  their  cells  or 
dormitories  for  the  night,  the  older  females  being  placed  in  the  latter  and  the  younger  ones 
in  the  former. 

In  the  dormitories  warders  are  stationed  through  the  night,  to  see  that  no  talking  goes 
on  among  the  prisoners,  two  officers  remaining  on  duty  from  six  in  the  evening  till  ten, 
and  two  others  from  ten  at  night  till  six  in  the  morning.  Nevertheless,  we  were  assured 
it  was  impossible  to  put  a  stop  to  the  secret  communication  that  nightly  went  on  in  spite 
of  them.  Moreover,  there  are  two  female  warders  stationed  at  B  and  C  lodges,  whose  duty  it 
is  to  go  round  and  inspect  the  prisons  during  the  night.  There  is,  too,  a  chief  warder  on 
duty  besides. 

As  a  rule,  we  were  told  that  the  officers  consider  the  **  long-terms,"  that  is  to  say,  the 
long-sentence  women,  to  behave  the  best,  though  latterly  they  have  found  these  rather 
refractory. 

At  the  time  of  our  last  visit  there  was  only  one  prisoner  in  a  dark  cell,  and,  on  the 
occasion  of  a  previous  one,  we  were  witness  to  the  kindness  and  good  sense  with  which  one 
of  the  visiting  justices  spoke  to  a  woman  in  one  of  the  refractory  cells — a  half-maniac  kind 


482 


THE  GEEAT  WOKLD  OF  L0N3X)lSr. 


of  creature  who  wag  then  diBtarfoing  Hie  whole  pziBODy  fimt  with  her  shouts,  then  with  her 
songs,  and  finally  with  her  sGreams.* 

*  We  append  a  Btatement  of  the  expenses  and  receipts  of  this  prison  :— 

TABLB  OP  THB  SXPEKDITXJ&B  AND  asCBIPTS  OF  TOTHILL  FIELDS  P&IBON  FOB  THB  TBA&  1854,    OOMPABJD)  ▼RH 
THA.T  OF  COLDBATH  FIELDS,  AND  THB  AYBBAOB  OF   ALL   OTHBB  PBI80NS  IN  BNGLAND  AND  WAL». 


COST  OF  PRISON  PER  ANN0M. 

1 

RECEIPTS  OP  PRISON  PER  ANNCM. 

1 

ITJE3CS  or  EaLPSNDITUBX. 

Gross  Cost 
per  Annum. 

Average  Cost  per 
Prisoner  per  Annum. 

£       «.  4.    £    I.A 

Nett  Profit  received  for 

Tothlll 

Fields. 
1854. 

CoUbath 

Fields. 
1854. 

All  other 

Prisons  in 

England 

and 

Wales. 

1853. 

manufacturing     or 
other  Work  done  by 
the  Prisoners           .     400  14   8 
Estimated    Profit    of 
Work  or  Labour  done 
,     by  the  Prisoners  for 
rae   benefit  of  the 

Total  coat  of  Prison  Diet  and  Extra 
Allowanoes,  by  order  of 
the  Snrgeon,  and  Wine, 
Beer,  &o. 

„  Male  Clothing,  Bedding, 
and  Straw 

„  Officers'  Salaries  and  Ra. 
tlons,  and  Pensions  to 
Retired  Officers 

„  Fuel,  Soap,  and  other 
cleansing  materials,  Oil 
and  Gas  . 

„  Stationery,  Printing,  and 
Books,  Fnmitnre  and 
Utensils,  &e..  Rent, 
Bates,  and  Taxes . 

„  Sapport  of  Prisoners  re- 
moved under  Contract  to 
bo  oonflned  in  other  Ju- 
risdictions, and  removal 
of  Oonricts  and  Prison- 
ers to  and  ft-om  Trial, 
and  to  other  Prisons  for 
punishment,  &c. 

„  Sundry  Contingencies  not 
enumerated 

Total  expenses  for  the  Prison  for  the 
year,  not  including  Re- 
pairs, Alterations,  and 
Additions 
„       Repairs,  Alterations,  and 
Additions  in  and  about 
the  Prison  in  the  course 
of  the  year 

Repayment  of  Principal  or  Interest 
of  Money  Borrowed 

Grand  Total 

Daily  ftTBrage  number  of  Prisoneni . 

£      s.    d. 

6,889    5    8 
1,282  12    8 

8,489  12    6 

974  10    9 

92    6    2 

98  18    6 
720    8    6 

£   «.   d, 

7  18    4i 
1    9    5} 

9  15    2 

1    2    0 

0    2    U 

0    2    8i 
0  16    6| 

£    9,  d. 

9    1    94 
14    0 

7  18    8^ 

1    1    8 

0    9    1 

0  IS    9 

1  4    7i 

£    9.  4. 

5    4  11 
1    7    2 

10    7    6 

1  19    6 

0  18    9i 

0  12    9i 

1  1    9^ 

;     County,  City,  or  Bo- 

1     rough           .          .  1,096  11    4 

Gross  Earnings  of  Prisoners  .  1,557  6  9 
Amount  received  for  the  Suppon  of 

Yagranto  .  .  .  3  S  3 
Amount  reodved  for  the  Sobsist- 

enoe  of  Revenue  Prisoners  .  46  7  6 
Amount  charged  to  Treasury  for 

Mnintenanoe  of  Prisoners  eon- 

vlcted  at  Assizes  and  Sessions  .  5,808  16  t 
OtherReoeipts         .          .          .    117  9  « 

Total                                £7.SU  1  ; 

at  Tothlll  Fields  iMr  annum  .  1 15  Si 
Ditto  at  Coldbathnelds  .  .  4 11  llj 
Ditto  of  all  Prisoners  of  England 

aodWalee.                             .211 

18,547  IS  11 
579    6    7 

21    6    4^ 
0  18    8| 

21  18    2i 
0  IS    4i 

21    7    5i 

2    9    5 
2  12    9j 

19,127   0    6 

21  19    6i 

28    6    7 

26    9    Si 

870 

1,S88 

16,891 

Gross  cost  of  Prison,  per  head,  per  annum, 

£21    6   4i 

£21|18  2i 

£21    7    5i 

NBTT  COST  OF  THB  PRISON. 

Total  Expenses  of  the  Prison  for  t^  year,  not  including  Repairs,  Alteratfons,  and  Additiffnt   .  £18,547  IS  11 
Total  Receipts  of  ditto  ..•....•.,.     7,0SS   S    7 

Cost  to  the  County,  City,  or  Boroogh,  not  induding  Bepalrs,  Altentloiia,  and  AddtHoaa    . 
Repairs,  Alterations,  and  Additions  daring  the  year     •  .  . 

Xotal  Expenses  of  the  Prison  for  the  year,  including  Repairs,  Alterations,  and  Addltionsi,  and 
excluding  Receipts      .....  .... 


Il,il9  11    4 
d7»    6    7 


12,094  17  11 


Nett  eostof  each  Prisoner,  at  TottiSll  Fields,  per  annum   • 

at  Cbldbath  Fields,  per  annum 
in  all  Prisons  of  Rngland  and  Wales,  per  aonum 
at  TothiU  Fields,  per  diem 
at  Coldbath  Fields,  per  diem    . 
in  all  Prisons  of  England  and  Wales,  per  diem 


u 


f> 


>f 


f> 


It 


11 
» 


If 


»i 


>i 


.   £18  IS 

04 

.      10 

9 

H 

•      18 

8 

n 

0 

0 

H 

0 

0 

H 

0 

1 

0 

By  the  above  oomparatiTe  table,  we  find  tiiat  the  annual  gross  oost  of  each  prisoner  at  TotfaiD  PieUi  ii 
some  half-dozen  shillings  less  than  at  Coldbath  Fields,  and  about  1«.  li.  leas  than  the  mean  for  aU  theprisoM 


iHOUSE  OF  COKRECTION,  TOTHILL  FIELDS.  483 

%*  I%e  Femah  Pri»im&ri  (hum  (MM  Store,  ThthMFMdt. — In  civilized  ooxnmmdties  dress 
enters  so  Mly  into  our  notions  of  indiyiduals,  that  a  particnlar  kind  of  garment  has  as  much 
hmnan  character  about  it  as  eren  a  definite  form  of  countenance. 

Sam  Weller's  well-known  description  of  the  inmates  of  the  White  Hart  Inn,  in  the 
Borongh,  by  the  boots  and  shoes  he  had  to  clean,  affords  us  as  graphic  a  picture  of  the 
persons  staying  at  the  tavern  as  would  the  figures  of  even  the  people  themselves : — 
''  There's  a  pair  of  Hessians  in  13,"  said  he,  in  answer  to  the  inquiry  as  to  who  there 
was  in  the  house;  ''there's  two  pair  of  halves  in  the  commercial;  there's  these  here 
painted  tops  in  the  snuggery  inside  the  bar;  and  five  more  tops  in  the  coffee-room, 
besides  a  shoe  as  belongs  to  the  wooden  leg  in  No.  6 ;  and  a  pair  of  Wellingtons,  a 
good  deal  worn,  together  with  a  pair  of  lady's  shoes  in  No.  5." 

At  Tothill  Fields  prison  the  warders  in  charge  of  the  prisoners'  own  clothing  axe  wont 
to  indicate  the  female  characters  incarcerated  there  by  the  style  of  bonnet  entrusted  to  their 
care,  and  to  speak  of  the  ''  hat  and  feathers  they  had  ina  few  days  ago  for  being  drank  and 
riotous,"  the  same  as  if  the  article  of  millinery  had  been  the  chief  offender,  and  the  female 
herself  but  a  mere  partieeps  eriminiB  in  the  affair. 

''  We  haven't  many  smart  bonnets  in  now,  sir,"  said  the  warder,  as  she  conducted  us 
round  the  store  for  the  **  long-terms,"  and  pointed  out  to  us  the  peculiarities  of  the  different 
kinds  of  head-gear  stowed  away  in  the  large  square  compartments  that  were  fitted  round 
the  room. 

**  This  silk  and  blond,"  she  said,  ''  trimmed  with  'ruehes*  and  with  roses,  and  geraniums 
ioside,  is  in  for  <  pickpocketing ;'  and  this  purple  velvet  one,  with  feathers  at  the  side,  has  got 
twelve  months  for  shoplifting.  Here,  too,  is  a  fancy  Tuscan,  with  ribbon  '  ruehes,*  quite 
fashionable,  but  dirty  enough,  you  see,  sir,  inside — ^tliat's  got  six  months  for  the  same  offence. 

**  Yes,  sir,  it  ia,  as  you  say,"  went  on  the  officer,  **  tbe  grandest  ones  that  come  here  are 
mostly  for  stealing  in  shops. 

**  Here's  another,  though,  sir,"  said  the  matron,  as  she  seemed  suddenly  to  recollect  her- 
self, and  started  off  to  a  compartment  on  the  opposite  side—''  a  grand  Leghorn,  with  a  ML  of 
bugles,  you  see,  in  front.  This  is  a  play-actress,  and  has  four  calendar  months  for  stabbing 
her  husband. 

''  The  next  one,  too,  sir,  was  a  very  pretty  iMag  onae"  she  remarked,  as  she  took  the 
bonnet  from  the  round  squabby  bundle  of  clothes  on  which  it  stood.  ''  Ifs  horsehair,  with 
green  trimming,  and  has  eight  calendar  months  for  passing  bad  money. 

"  Now  here's  one  of  those  common  willow-bonnets,  trimmed  with  flowers — ^that's  for 
illegally  pawning,  I  think ;  and  that  flattened,  old  faded  plush,  for  I  cannot  exactly  say 
what. 

"  Oh,  yes !  we've  a  good  many  shabby  ones,"  proceeded  the  warder,  in  answer  to  our 
question.  "  Here's  a  common-looking  thing,  an  old  cotton  velvet,  trimmed  with  faded  pink 
ribbon ;  thaf  s  a  misdemeanour  in  for  three  calendar  months. 

throughout  tho  country.  The  average  cost  of  the  diet,  per  head,  however,  ia  upwards  of  50  percent,  more 
than  that  of  all  England  and  Wales.  The  ezpenae  of  the  clothing,  again,  ia  slightly  in  ezoees,  though  the 
cost  of  superintendence  is  somewhat  less  per  prisoner.  Again,  the  average  amount  for  soap,  fuel,  as  well 
as  stationery,  printing,  &c.,  and  the  support  of  prisoners  removed  to  other  jails,  are  all  greatly  below  the 
annual  expense  per  head,  both  at  Coldbath  Fields  and  the  country  prisons  generally ;  so  that  the  comparatiTely 
high  cost  of  the  diet,  clothing,  &o.,  for  each  indiyidual  prisoner,  is  reduced,  by  the  comparatively  law  cost  of 
the  Boperintendence  and  other  subordinate  items,  to  a  fraction  below  the  standard  for  the  whole  kingdom. 
But  if  the  gross  cost  of  each  prisoner  at  Tothill  Fields  be  only  a  fraction  less  than  the  general  average  of  all 
oar  prisons,  the  nett  cost  is  some  25  per  cent  below  it.  This  is  mainly  owing  to  the  fact  of  there  being  at 
ToUull  Fields  neither  principal  nor  interest  to  repay,  and  the  cost  of  the  repairs  being  proportionally  small ;  and 
the  average  earnings  of  the  prisoners  indiridually,  it  will  be  seen,  are  somewhat  below  the  general  average, 
rather  than  considerably  above  it,  as  at  Coldbath  Fields,  where  the  value  of  the  work  done  is  most  unfairly 
estimated 


484  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON.        • 

We  were  then  condncted  into  the  Bhort-term  room,  where  were  kept  the  clotiliiiig,  Ac., 
of  those  females  whose  sentence  was  lessihau  three  months.  The  clothes  here  were  stowed 
away  in  the  same  manner  as  in  the  other  atore — a  round  hnndle,  with  a  bonnet  on  the  top, 
being  placed  in  each  of  the  square  compartments  which  covered  the  walls  of  the  room. 

<<  This  grand  pink  and  white  silk,  with  cherry-coloured  figured  ribbons  and  blond  curtain 
and  flowers,  is  in  for  fourteen  days,"  said  the  matron. 

*'  What  for  ?"  we  asked,  as  we  wrote  down  the  particulars  in  our  note-book. 

"  Streets,"  was  the  laconic  and  significant  reply.  '*  Just  see  how  greasy  and  dirty  it  ia 
at  the  back,  sir ;  that's  from  its  having  been  worn  half  on  the  shoulders.  Here  is  another 
grand-looking,  yellow  silk  afEiedr,  that's  all  grubby  inside ;  it  has  got  a  piece  of  net,  too,  for  the 
orown,  with  the  ribbon  passed  over  it  to  save  the  silk,  you  see.  There's  deception  for  you ! 
The  same  as  in  everything  now  a-days.  That's  the  streets  again,  sir ;  and  for  the  same  term 
as  the  last. 

''This  is  an  old  faded  straw  thing,  you  see,"  said  the  warder,  as  she  held  np  a  colonrlesi 
and  shapeless  article  that  was  half  in  shreds.  "  It's  got  the  plait  of  the  crown  all  loose  and 
hanging  down  like  an  apple-paring.  That's  for  begging  or  sleeping  in  the  open  air — I  can't 
say  which.  And  this  ragged  and  rusty  old  black  crape  affiEdr  is  a  regular  visitor  of  ours;  it's 
for  breaking  a  lamp,  I  think,  this  time,  though  it's  generally  in  for  being  drunk  and  dis- 
orderly.    I  do  believe  I've  known  it  these  last  five  years. 

**  Oh,  yes,  sir!  they  are  all  fumigated  before  they  are  put  away  here;  if  they  wen 
not  we  should  be  swarming,  notwithstanding  the  finery.  The  sulphur  often  takes 
the  colour  out,"  went  on  the  officer,  ''  so  that  the  women  don't  know  their  own  things.  Bat 
we  are  as  careful  over  them  as  we  can  be  for  the  poor  creatures,  for  it  would  be  hard, 
indeed,  if  we  spoilt  their  clothes  when  they  came  here,  as  very  few  that  we  see  in  this 
place  have  more  than  they  stand  up  in." 

The  caption-papers  that  accompany  a  prisoner  from  one  jail  to  another  are  a  peculiar 
class  of  document,  which,  for  the  sake  of  completeness,  should  not  be  omitted  from  oar 
account  of  the  London  prisons. 

A  boy  or  woman,  for  instance,  who  is  convicted  at  the  Middlesex  or  Westminster  Sossionn, 
on  being  transferred  from  the  detentional  prison  in  which  he  or  she  has  been  confined  before 
trial,  to  the  House  of  Correction  at  Westminster,  will  have  such  a  caption-paper  forwarded 
with  either  of  them,  as  the  case  may  be,  to  the  governor  of  the  latter  institution.  In  this  paper 
the  nature  of  the  offence  of  which  the  individual  has  been  convicted,  as  well  as  the  sentence 
adjudged,  will  be  duly  set  forth ;  and  if  the  prisoner  were  afterwards  to  be  removed  to  any 
convict  prison,  a  copy  of  this  caption-paper  would  be  flimished  to  the  authorities  of  the 
future  place  of  custody,  together  with  a  return  setting  forth  all  particulars  in  oomiectioa 
with  the  identity  and  antecedents  of  the  offender,  as  well  as  the  circumstances  of  his  case. 

A  copy  of  such  a  caption-paper,  together  with  the  return  sent  to  the  governor  of  one  of 
the  London  convict  prisons,  is  here  subjoined : — 

CAPTION. 

SUst-l&OliRg     \  At  the  General  Quarter  SeasionB  of  the  Peace,  holden  bp  mgowrfimmi  at  ffltfMtf  m  tad 

09  THa  I       for  the  Weet-Riding  of  the  Oounty  of  Toric,  on  JVufay  the  A«r<A  day  of  Jmmmrf 

CeaatQ  0(  %orl.  )       in  the  NnuUmih  Year  of  the  Reign  of  oar  Sovereign  Lady  Ttotoria,  by  th«  Qnot  of 

God,  of  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  Qoeen,  Defender  of  the 
Faith,  and  in  the  Tear  of  onr  Lord,  One  Thousand  Eight  Hundred  and  Fifty  Sis; 
Before  certain  Justices  of  our  said  Lady  the  Queen,  assigned  to  pieeem*  the  peace 
in  the  said  Riding ;  and  also  to  hear  and  determine  diTers  Felonies^  iTrespasieSj  snd 
other  Misdemeanours  done  and  committed  thereio. 

m^etrss  at  this  prasent  Quarter  Sessions  of  the  Peace,  /  R ,  laU  of  WakiJIeU,  m  <As  Wtti-Midrnf 

of  the  County  of  Tork,  Labourer ^  is  and  stands  convicted  of  Larmnyy  committed  after  a  previoue  nmittim/ir 
Felony. 


anrft-STB  rant  or  rsx  houbb  of  deteiitioh,  olerkenwell. 


GATE  OF  TBB  HOUBS  OF  DETENTtOR. 


HOUSE  OP  COBEEOTION,  TOTHILL  PIEIDS. 


486 


It  is  hereupon  orlrmlr  anH  aHjiilrsclr  hxi  4is  Coitrt,  That  the  above-named  ConTict  be  kept  in  Penal 
Serritode  for  the  tenn  of  Four  years, 

BY  THE  COURT, 

3 J) 


Jh  Mr.  E S , 

Jtftpii*  of  the  Hottto  of 
Corrodion  ai  WkktJUld. 


Bqmto  CUtI  of  ^t  yiatc. 


/  herebif  certify  thai  th$  above  it  a  true  copy  of  the  Original  Caption  and  Ordor  of  Court,  ooHtaininy  th§ 
mUoHco  by  frirtuo  of  which  the  above-named  Convict  it  in  my  cuetody. 


••  o- 


CEraiurnor  af  ^i  1(aitse  ol  GarrtctCan  at  naltSellr, 
in  ^  SRest-iailiittg  af  Sarlaj^ire. 


Reiubit  to  aocompany  ^e  caption  of  a  convict  on  his  removal  to  a  convict  prison,  and 
Bobaequent  transfen : — 


Connty 

or 
Borough 


\ 


86) 


Name  and  Aliaaei /  jg 

Age 30. 

Single  or  Married,  and  Number  of  Children      .  Sinyle. 

Bead  and  Write Imp$rfeotly. 

Trade  or  Occupation Sauhhandle  maker. 

Crime,  atating  Particukn        .        .        .         {SteaJmyfromaDweUing-houieatShtf. 

*  (      Jleldl2lbe.ofBeef,andpre.con. 

Date  and  Place  of  Committal    ....    S  Jkeen^r,  IS66.    Sh^Md. 
Data  and  Place  of  Conyiotion  ....    4  January,  1966.    Sh^fieid  Seteiom. 
Sentence 4  year^  I'bnal  Servitude. 

Name  and  Beeidence  of  Family  or  next  of  kin  .(  '^<>**^>  -H" -B »  O fi*. 

^ark,  ah^field. 

•    {BronehHie). 


{ 


Beligioa Church,    Health 

Informaiian  rvkOive  tofomur  Conoictione, 


Whether 
Preriouily 
T^ranaported 


None, 


Previous 
Oonyictiona, 

stating 
Particulars. 


Torh  Aesizeoy  December,  1846,  Aeeault  upon,  an  indietmeni  for 
Burglary  and  Wounding,  3  cat,  mon. 

Bmtefraet  8eae,,  1848,  Stg.  Troueere,  6  months. 


Snmmarjr  or 
Otherwise, 

stating 
Particulars* 


16  July,  1847,  Mogue  and  Vagabond,  3  months. 
26  July,  1853,  Bogus  and  Vagabond,  14  days. 


Periods  and  Places  of  Confinement,  from  Date  of  Committal  to  BemoTal  to  a  ConTict 
Prison,  stating  whether  in  Separation  or  Association. 


KameofJaiL 

Deoeription  of  Conflnement. 

Months. 

Days. 

Character  asd  OoBdnot. 

Wak^/teld, 

S^^arats, 

3 

21 

Good. 

8- 


<->  Oov9mor  of  Wah^fiM  Rouse  of  Qnreetien. 
2>aU,  29  Mm^  1$50. 


486 


THE  GREAT  WOEID  OF  LONDON. 


The  subjoined  is  the  indorsement: — 

Name,  / B . 

Bates  of  Committal,  CoimcnoN,  Rbcbptiok, 

AND  Rbmovai.. 

Committal 8  December,  1855. 

Conyiction    ....  4  January,  1856. 

Remoyedfrom  )  Tfalie/Md  Prison, 
Date 5  29  March,  1856. 

Receiyed  in  . . )  MiSbank  Prison, 
Date )  29  March,  1856. 

Bemoyed  from  )  Died  Sh,  35m.  RM. 
Date )n  April,  1856. 


Bescdjption. 

Complexion 

Hair  .... 

Eyes 

Height       .... 
Description  of  Person 

Scars,  Cuts,  Moles,  Marks,  &c.,  on  Body  and  Limbs. 

Scar  centre  of  forehead,  tear  on  right  jaw,  mole  near  Ufi 
ehoutdeT'hlade,  mole  right  arm-pit. 


Light, 

Brown. 

Blue. 

6  feet  4  inohee. 

Bather  lender. 


8- 


Oovemor  of  Wak$fdd  Eouee  of  Cometiea, 
Date,  29  March,  1856. 


The  following^  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  form  of  ''  sunmary  conyiction"  sent  from  the 
police  office  with  the  prisoner  to  the  place  of  commitment : — 

BOUTKWABX  POLICE  OOUBT. 

Metropolitan  ^  To  all  and  eyery  the  Cpnstables  of  the  Metropolitan  Police  Force,  and  to  the  Keeper  of  the 
iWfM  District,  r      House  of  Correction  at  Wandsvorthy  in  the  County  of  Surrey,  and  within  the  Metro. 
*^  ^'      '      politan  Police  Diatriet : 

Whereas  B  B  was  on  this  day  duly  oonyioted  before  the  undersigned,  one  of  the  Magistrates 

of  the  Police  Courts  of  the  Metropolis,  sitting  at  the  Southwark  Police  Courts  in  the  County  of  Surrey,  and 

within  the  Metropolitan  Police  District,  upon  the  oath  of  W H  ,  taken  before  me  in  the  presence 

and  hearing  of  the  said  B B ;  for  that  he,  on  the  Fifteenth  day  of  September,  in  the  Tear  of  Our 

Lord,  One  Thousand  Eight  Hundred  and  Fifty-six,  in  the  Pariah  of  Saint  George  the  Martyr,  in  the  County 
of  Suirey,  and  within  the  said  District,  did  unlawfully  assault  and  beat  the  said  W H ,  con- 
trary to  the  Statute  in  such  case  made  and  proyided. 

AJod  it  was  thereby  adjudged,  that  the  said  "Br-^- —  B ,  for  the  said  offence,  should  for&it  and  pay 

the  sum  of  Ten  Shillings,  and  it  was  thereby  further  adjudged,  that  if  the  said  sum  should  not  be  paid  forth- 
with, the  said  B B should  be  imprisoned  in  the  House  of  Correction  at  Wandsworth,  in  the 

County  of  Surrey,  and  within  the  said  District,  for  the  space  of  Fourteen  days  horn  the  date  hereof,  unlesi 
the  said  sum  should  be  sooner  paid,  which  said  sum  he  hath  neglected  to  pay. 

These  are  therefore  to  command  you,  aud  eyery  of  you,  the  Constables  of  the  Metropolitan  Polioe  Fcree^ 

to  take  the  said  B B ,  and  him  safely  to  conyey  to  the  House  of  Corxection  aforesaid,  and  then 

to  deliyer  him  to  the  Keeper  thereof,  together  with  this  precept;  and  I  do  hereby  command  you,  the  said 

Keeper  of  the  said  House  of  Correction^  to  receiye  the  said  B B into  your  custody,  in  the 

said  House  of  Correction,  there  to  imprison  him  for  the  space  of  Fourteen  days  from  the  date  hereof^  unkss 
the  said  sum  shall  be  sooner  paid. 

Giyen  under  my  Hand  and  Seal  this  Sixteenth  day  of  September,  in  the  year  of  Our  Lord,  One 
Thousand  Eight  Hundred  and  Fifty-six;,  at  the  Police  Court  aforeaaid. 


HOUSE  OP  COEBECTION,  WANDSWOBTH. 


487 


GB017MD.FLAN  OF  WANDSWORTH  FBISON. 


A.  OuVCIllOfnS  ITodMa 

B.  dupUin*!  ditto. 

C.  OotarOata. 

D.  CtaftpeL 
SkCcflfiilltolL 


F.  Oonidon,  with  Mparate  odls 

OB  either  lida. 
O.  Zltehen. 


H.^Lemdiy. 

I.  SrylBc  uRnaifdt 


K.  ICele  IBAi'iBU  J  Terd. 
KS.  Female  ditto  ditto. 
L.  Bnnrean*!  Berideacfli 
M.  AMUtant  Che^ln's  ditto. 


I O.  Male  Inflnnarr. 
P.  Female  ditto. 
a,b,e,d,;/,f.  Clerka'^poveiBor'a 

and  Obaplain's  omees,ftc. 
h.  Site  for  additioiial  winf. 
1.  Coal  Yard. 


TBS  smtSST  E0V8S  OF  COMRSCTION,  WANL8W0RTE, 

(FOB  ALL  CLASSES  OF  C0N7I0TBD  CBIMINAL  OFFENDERS.) 

The  ascent  of  a  moimtaiii  in  the  tropicS;  and  gradual  passage  through  the  several  atmos- 
pheric layers  of  different  dimates,  reyeals,  as  we  rise  above  the  plains,  the  mountain  sides 
prismaticaUy  belted,  as  it  were,  with  the  rainbow  hues  of  yaiious  zones  of  fruits  and 
flowers-— the  same  as  if  we  had  passed  along  rather  than  dho^  the  surface  of  the  globe — ^from 
the  brilliant  and  glowing  tints  of  vegetable  nature  at  the  tropics,  to  the  sombre  shades  of  the 
hardier  plants  and  trees  peculiar  to  the  colder  regions,  even  till  we  ultimately  reach,  at  the 
peak,  the  colourless  desolation  of  the  poles  themselves. 

But  this  journeying  upwards  through  the  various  botanical  strata,  as  it  were,  of  the  earth 
is  hardly  more  peculiar  and  marked  than  is  the  rapid  transition  now-a-days,  while  travelling 
on  some  London  railway,  from  town  to  ihe  country ;  for  as  we  fly  along  the  house-tops  through 
the  various  surburban  zones  encircling  the  giant  Metropolis,  we  can  see  the  bricken  city 
gradually  melt  away  into  the  green  fields,  and  the  streets  gMe,  like  solid  rivers,  into  the 
roads,  and  cabs  and  busses  merge  into  wagons  and  ploughs,  while  factories  give  place  to 
market-gardens,  and  parks  and  squares  feide  gradually  into  woods  and  com-fleldB. 


488  THE  GBEAT  VOBLD  OF  LOKDOK. 

Perhaps  this  change,  fix>m  oiyic  to  nutio  soenerj — ^this  dissolving  view,  as  it  were»  of 
the  capital  melting  into  the  conntry,  is  nowhere  hotter  seen  than  in  a  half-hour^s  trip  along 
the  Southampton  rail ;  for  no  sooner  have'we  crossed  the  Tiadnct  spanning  the  'Westminster 
Boady  and  looked  down  upon  the  drivers  at  the  hack  of  the  passing  Hansoms,  and  the  carten 
perched  on  the  high  hoz-seats  of  the  railway-carriers'  vans,  as  well  as  the  passengers  ranged 
along  the  roof  of  the  Kennington  omnihuses;  and  had  a  glimpse,  moreover,  at  the  hright- 
oolonred  rolls  of  carpets  standing  in  the  first-floor  windows  of  the  great  linendraperj  styled 
*'  Lahbeth  House,"  than  we  are  whisked  into  the  region  of  iimnmerable  fiictories — ^the  tall 
Uack  chimneys  piercing  the  air  as  thickly  as  the  nunarets  of  some  Turkish  city;  and  then, 
even  with  the  eyes  shut,  the  nose  can  tel^  by  the  succession  of  chemical  stenches  <m«Ml^«g  it, 
that  we  are  being  wafted  through  the  several  zones  of  Lambeth  manufactures^  Now  we  get  a 
whiff  of  the  gutta-percha  works ;  then  comes  a  faint  gust  fix>m  some  floor-cloth  shed;  next  we 
dash  through  an  odoriferous  belt  of  bone-boiling  atmosphere ;  and  after  that  through  a  film  of 
fetor  rank  with  the  ftimes  from  the  glazing  of  the  potteries ;  whereupon  this  is  fi>llowed  by 
bands  of  nauseous  vapours  fix>m  decomposing  hides  and  horses'  hoofs,  resin  and  whiting  wotks ; 
and  the  next  instant  these  give  place  to  layer  after  layer  of  sickening  exhalations  from  gas- 
fieustories,  and  soap-boiling  establishments,  and  candle-companies;  so  that  we  are  thus  led  by 
the  nose  along  a  chromatic  scale,  as  it  were,  of  the  strong  surburban  stenches  that  encompass, 
in  positive  rings  of  nausea,  the  great  cathedral  dome  of  the  Metropolis,  like  the  phosphoric 
glory  environing  the  head  of  some  renowned  catholic  saint. 

Nor  is  the  visional  diorama  that  then  glides  past  us  less  striking  and  characteristic  ^h^^  the 
nasal  one.  What  a  dense  huddle  and  confused  bricken  crowd  of  houses  and  hovels  does 
the  city  seem  to  be  composed  of;  the  very  train  itself  appears  to  be  ploughing  its  way 
through  the  walk  of  the  houses,  while  each  gable  end  thi^t  is  turned  towards  the  rail  is  used 
as  a  means  to  advertise  the  wares  of  some  enterprising  tradesman. 

Now  the  cathedral-like  dome  of  Bedlam  fiits  before  the  eye,  and  now  a  huge  announce- 
ment tells  us  that  we  are  flying  past  the  fiuned  concert-tavern  called  Canterbury  Hall.  Then 
we  catch  just  a  glimpse  of  the  green  gardens  and  old  ruby  towers  of  Lambeth  Pakoe;  and  no 
sooner  has  this  whizzed  by,  and  we  have  seen  the  river  twinkle  for  a  moment  in  the  light, 
like  a  steel-plate  flashing  in  the  sun,  than  we  are  in  the  regions  of  the  potteries,  with  their 
huge  kilns,  like  enormous  bricken  skittles,  and  rows  of  yellow-looking  pipes  and  pans 
ranged  along  the  walls.  The  moment  afterwards  the  gas-works,  with  their  monster 
Uack  iron  drums,  dart  by  the  window  of  the  carriage ;  and  the  next  instant  the  old,  ^oomy, 
and  desolate-looking  Yauxhall  Gardens,  with  its  white  rotunda,  like  a  dingy  tweUth-oaka 
ornament,  glides  swiftly  by.  Then  we  have  another  momentary  peep  down  into  the  load, 
and  have  hardly  noted  the  monster  railway  taverns,  and  seen  the  small  forest  of  fiustoij 
chimneys  here  grouped  about  the  bridge,  with  Price's  gigantic  candle-works  hard  by,  than 
we  are  flying  past  the  old  Nine  Elms  station.  No  sooner  has  this  flitted  by  than  flie  scene  is 
immediately  shifted,  and  a  small,  muddy  canal  is  bdield,  skirted  with  willows;  and  then 
the  tall  metal  syphon  of  the  water-works,  like  a  monster  hair-pin  stuck  in  the  earth,  shoota 
rapidly  into  sight;  whereupon  the  view  begins  to  open  a  bit,  revealing  Chelsea  Hoq[iital» 
with  its  green  copper  roof  and  red  and  white  front,  on  the  other  side  of  the  liyet;  while 
the  crowd  of  dwellings  grows  suddenly  less  dense,  and  the  houses  and  fiictories  dwindle 
into  cottages  with  small  patches  of  garden.  Here,  too,  the  London  streets  end,  and  tiie 
highroads,  the  lanes,  and  hedges  make  their  appearance;  while  lai^,  flat  fields  of  the 
suburban  market-garden  rush  by,  each  scored  with  line  after  line  of  plants.  Nor  is  it  many 
minutes  more  before  these  vast  plains  of  cabbage  and  tracts  of  potatoes  are  suooeeded  bj  a 
glance  of  sloping  lawns  and  pleasant-looking  country  villas,  ranged  alongside  the  laifled 
roadway;  immediately  after  which  we  are  in  the  land  of  railway  cuttings,  with  the  line 
sunk  in  a  trou^  of  deep  green  shelving  banks,  instead  of  being  buried,  as  it  was  only  a 
few  minutes  before,  among  the  sloping  roofs  and  chimney-pots  of  the  smoky  Lomdon 


HOUSE  OF  OOEEECTIOX,  WANDSWOETH.  489 

Another  instant,  and  the  train  rattles  tlirough  a  little  tunnel,  and  then  is  heard  the  sharp, 
shrill  scream  of  the  whistle;  whereupon  porters  dart  by  the  carriage  windows,  crying, 
''Clapham  Coounon!  dapham  Common!"  and  the  instant  afterwards  are  landed  at  the 
little  rustic  station  there. 

The  House  of  Correction  at  Wandsworth  has,  externally,  little  to  recommend  it  to  the 
eje,  baring  none  of  the  fine,  gloomy  character  and  solemnity  of  Newgate,  nor  any  of  the 
castellated  grandeur  of  the  City  Prison  at  HoUoway ;  neither  can  it  be  said  to  partake  of  the 
massiTe  simplicity  of  the  exterior  of  TothiU  Fields,  nor  to  possess  any  feature  about  it  that 
will  bear  comparison  with  the  noble  portcullis  gateway  at  FentonTiUe. 

To  speak  plainly,  the  exterior  of  the  Surrey  House  of  Correction  is  mean  and  ill-propor« 
tioned  to  the  last  degree,  while  the  architecture  of  the  outbuildings  exhibits  all  the  bad 
taste  of  Cockney-Italian  villas,  and  none  of  the  austere  impressiyeness  that  should  belong  to 
a  building  of  a  penal  character.  Again,  the  central  mass  rising  behind  the  stunted  gate- 
way is  heavy  even  to  clumsiness,  and  the  whole  aspect  of  the  structure  uncommanding  as  a 
Methodist  college. 

Nevertheless,  the  situation  is  admirably  chosen  for  the  health  of  the  inmates.  Built 
upon  a  gravelly  soil,  upon  a  large  open  tract  of  country,  it  seems  to  preclude  the  possibility 
of  an  epidemic  ever  raging  among  the  prisoners.  Nor  do  we  know  a  more  pleasant  and 
countrified  spot  than  the  furze-tufted  Common  on  which  it  stands,  the  view  embracing  a  pano- 
rama for  many  miles  roxmd ;  in  the  distance  the  Crystal  Palace  may  be  seen  shining  like  a 
golden  bubble  in  the  sun,  whilst,  looking  towards  the  Metropolis,  the  Yictoria  Tower  looms 
with  exquisite  grace  from  out  the  gray  background  of  the  London  smoke ;  though,  were  it  not 
for  this  glimpse  of  the  great  city,  the  stranger  might  fancy  himself  miles  away  fix>m  the 
Metropolis,  so  thoroughly  primitive  and  half-desolate  a  look  has  the  Common  itself.  Indeed, 
the  only  buildings  near  are  the  Freemasons'  Female  School,  with  its  high  red  brick  central 
tower,  and  the  little  roadside  public-house,  with  its  adjoining  tea-gardens,  beside  the  Tooting 
Koad.  Nor  is  there  any  sign  of  the  bustle  or  hurry  of  London  life  about  the  place,  imless, 
indeed,  it  be  the  occasional  passing  of  the  trains  along  the  neighbouring  lines  of  rail ;  but  even 
then  the  white  steam  merely  is  seen  issuing  in  jets  at  different  parts  of  the  earth  as  it  travels 
along,  while  the  ground  rumbles  almost  with  a  subterranean  noise— for  the  rail  runs  far  below 
the  level  of  the  Common,  and  the  passage  of  the  trains  can  only  be  heard  and  felt  rather  than 
seen. 


^  lU— o. 

Ths  Euioryand  Gmdrudian  of  the 

In  the  final  report  of  the  Committee  of  Justices  appointed  to  superintend  the  erection 
of  the  House  of  Correction  at  Wandsworth,  there  is  so  lucid  a  history  of  the  cir- 
cnmstances  which  led  not  only  to  the  construction  of  the  new  prison  for  the  county  of 
Surrey,  but  likewise  to  the  institution  of  houses  of  correction  in  general,  that  we  cannot 
do  better  than  avail  ourselves  of  this  excellent  narrative. 

%♦  -ETufory  of  Housei  of  Correetim  w  fltawro/.— "  The  chief  of  the  earlier  statutes  against 
vagrancy,"  say  tiie  Justices,  ''  were : — 

"  The  7th  Bichard  II.  c.  5,  passed  in  1388. 
"  The  11th  Henry  VII.  c.  2,  passed  in  1426. 
<«  The  19th  Henry  YII.  c.  2,  passed  in  1604. 


490  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

''By  the  first,  justices  and  sheriffs,  and  the  mayors,  bailifib,  constaUeSy  and  otiier 
governors  of  towns,  are  required  to  examine  diligently  all  'faitors'  (t.a.,  idlers)  and 
vagabonds,  and  compel  them  to  find  surety  for  their  good  behaviour.  If  they  commit 
a  second  offence,  or  cannot  find  surety,  they  are  to  be  sent  to  the  next  jail,  to  remain 
there  until  the  coming  of  the  justices  assigned  for  the  deliveiy  of  the  jails,  who  '  shall 
have  power  to  do  upon  such  that  which  there  to  them  best  shall  seem  to  be  done  by 
law.' 

''  By  the  second  statute,  which  was  passed  for  the  purpose  of  mitigating  the  severity  of 
the  former,  the  power  to  commit  to  the  jail  is  taken  away,  and  vagabonds  and  b^ggara  are 
directed,  for  a  first  offence,  to  be  kept  in  the  stocks  three  days  and  three  nights,  on  bread 
and  water,  and  then  sent  out  of  the  town.  For  a  second  offence,  they  are  to  be  kept  six 
days  and  six  nights  in  the  stocks,  on  Hke  fare. 

''By  the  last  of  these  statutes,  such  offenders  are  to  be  placed  in  the  stocks  for  only  one 
day  and  one  night  for  a  first  offence,  and  three  days  and  three  nights  for  a  second ;  and  im- 
potent or  aged  offenders  are  not  to  be  placed  in  the  stocks  at  all. 

"  Such  was  the  moderation  of  the  law  for  the  suppression  of  vagrancy,"  we  are  told, 
"  when  Henry  YIII.  commenced  his  reign.  Shortly  afterwards,  however,  it  was  considered 
necessary  to  provide  other  means  for  '  the  punishment  of  sturdy  vagrants  and  beggan.' 
The  statute  passed  for  this  purpose  was  the  22nd  Hen.  YIII.  c.  12  (a..d.  1531),  by  which 
justices  are  required  to  cause  all  persons,  '  whole  and  mighty  in  body,'  who  shall  beg,  or  be 
vagrants,  and  not  able  to  account  how  they  get  their  living,  to  be  whipped,  and  then  to  have 
them  sworn  to  return  to  the  place  where  they  were  borui  or  where  they  last  dwelt  three 
years,  and  there  put  themselves  to  labour. 

"  The  severity  of  this  statute  was  greatly  increased  by  the  27th  Hen.  YIII.  e.  26  (iJ). 
1536),  which  enacted,  that  '  a  valiant  beggar,  or  sturdy  vagabond,'  shall  at  the  first  time 
be  whipped  and  sent  to  the  place  where  he  was  bom,  or  has  been  living  for  the  last 
three  years ;  and  that  if  he  continue  his  roguish  Hfe,  he  shall  have  the  upper  part  of  the 
gristle  of  his  right  ear  cut  off ;  and  if,  after  that,  he  be  taken  wandering  in  idleness,  or  doth 
not  apply  to  his  labour,  or  is  not  in  the  service  of  a  master,  he  shall  be  adjudged  and  aeimkM 
as  a  felon. 

"  By  the  1st  Edw.  YI.  c.  3  (a.d.  1548),  all  former  statutes  on  this  subject  are  repealed; 
and  it  is  enacted,  that  every  person,  not  impotent,  aged,  or  sick,  found  loitering  or  wandering, 
and  not  seeking  work,  or  leaving  it  when  engaged,  shall  be  a  vagabond;  and  every  sudi 
person,  on  being  apprehended  by  his  master,  and  convicted  before  two  justices,  ahaU  be 
markedi  by  means  of  a  hot  iron,  with  the  letter  Y,  and  be  compelled  to  serve  bis  master 
two  years.  If  he  leave  before  the  expiration  of  such  service,  he  shall  be  again  marked,  in 
like  manner,  with  the  letter  S,  and  be  his  master's  ^Icmfor  twr*  A  third  offence  was  to  be 
punished  with  death. 

"  This  statute  was  repealed  by  the  3rd  and  4th  Edw.  Yl.  c.  16  (a.]).  1550-51),  by  which 
the  22nd  Heui  YIII.  c.  12,  was  revived. 

"In  the  14th  Eliz.  c.  5  '(a.d.  1572),  which  is  little  less  severe  than  the  27th  HeCL  YIIL 
above  recited,  we  find  a  long  list  of  persons  declared  to  be  'rogues,  vagabondsy  and  aliirdj 
beggars.^  Justices  are  required  to  commit  them  to  the  common  jail,  w  »uih  oiherpk»mMi 
U  appointed  by  th$  heneh  of  justices,  [or  not  lees  ikon  three  of  them,  at  any  of  their  gemrei 
sessions. 

"  This  is  the  first  recognition  of  antf  place  of  confinement  apart  from  the  common  JeUl^  and 
the  reason  given  for  it  is,  that '  the  common  jaUs,  in  every  shLre  within  this  realm,  are 
like  to  be  greatiy  pestered  with  a  more  number  of  prisoners  than  heretofore*  maiwry 
iurisdietion  by  this  statute  being  abolished* 

"By  the  18th  £Ii2.  c.  3  (a.d.  1576)>  which  was  passed  to  amend  the  last  recited  Act, 
one,  two,  or  more  abiding  houses  or  places,  convenient  in  some  market  or  corporate  town,  or 


HOTJSE  OP  COEBECTION,  WANDSVOETH.  491 

other  place  or  places,  are  directed  to  be  provided  by  the  jtistices  of  every  coimtyi  and  to  be 
called  ^SatUM  of  ChrrecUwi! — and  this  m  the  first  appearance  of  that  title. 

''For  this  purpose,  the  justices  are  directed  to  tax  the  districts  under  their  respective 
jurisdictions,  and  to  appoint  collectors  of  such  taxes.  They  are  also  required  to  appoint 
governors  of  these  houses  of  correction,  which  are  to  be  erected  or  provided  in  one  year, 
or  before  the  end  of  the  second  year,  '  or  else  the  money  levied  to  be  repaid.' 

''By  the  same  statute,  amended  by  the  d9th  Eliz,  c.  5  (a..d.  1597),  every  person  may, 
during  20  years,  by  deed  enrolled  in  the  High  Court  of  Chancery,  erect,  founc^  and  establish 
any  hospitals,  maisons  dieu,  abiding-places,  or  houses  of  correction,  as  well  for  the 
finding,  sustentation  and  relief  of  the  maimed,  poor,  needy,  or  impotent  people>  as  to  set  the 
poor  to  work ;  such  hospitals  or  houses  to  be  incorporated,  and  have  power  to  hold  freeholds, 
not  exceeding  the  annual  value  of  £200  \ .  but  no  such  hospital  is  to  be  founded  without 
being  endowed  to  the  extent  of  £10  per  annum. 

"In  the  year  1597  two  statutes  were  passed,  the  d9th  EHz.,  chapters  3  and  4,  the 
former  entitled  '  An  Act  for  the  Belief  of  the  Poor ;'  the  latter,  '  An  Act  for  the  Punish- 
ment of  Bogues,  Vagabonds,  and  Sturdy  Beggars.'  Until  this  period,  provision  was  made 
for  both  these  classes  by  the  same  statutes ;  hut  they  then  became,  and  haw  ever  since  been, 
the  fubfeets  of  separate  legislation.  By  the  latter  of  these  Acts  it  was  lawful  (not  com- 
pulsory) for  tlie  justices  to  erect  one  or  more  houses  of  correction  within  their  several 
counties,  and  to  appoint  a  governor  and  provide  all  things  necessary  for  governing  the  same, 
and  for  the  punishment  of  offenders.  Herein  summary  jurisdiction  is  not  only  revived, 
but  it  is  extended  to  constables,  headboroughs,  and  tithingmen,  as  well  as  to  justices 
of  the  peace,  who,  for  the  punishment  of  first  offences  in  vagrancy,  are  empowered  to 
inflict  a  whipping  on  the  offender  'until  his  or  her  body  be  bloody.'  Headboroughs  and 
tithingmen  are,  however,  '  to  be  assisted  by  the  advice  of  the  minister  and  one  other  of  the 
parish.' 

"By  the  7th  James  I.  c.  4,  passed  in  1609,  it  is  declared  that  the  laws  for  the  erection 
of  houses  of  correction,  and  for  the  suppressiag  and  punishing  rogues,  vagabonds,  &c., 
'have  not  wrought  so  good  effect  as  was  expected,  as  well  for  that  the  said  houses  of 
correction  have  not  been  built  as  was  intended,  as  also  for  that  the  said  statutes  have  not 
been  duly  and  severely  put  in  execution ;' — ^and  it  is  enacted,  that  before  Michaelmas  day, 
1611,  there  shall  be  erected,  or  provided,  by  the  justices  in  every  county  where  there  is  not 
already  a  house  of  correction,  one  or  more  house  or  houses  of  correction,  together  with 
mills,  turns,  cards,  and  such  Hke  necessary  implements,  to  set  the  said  rogues  to  work ;  and 
if  a  house  of  correction  be  not  provided  in  any  county  by  Michaekuas  day,  1611,  'then 
every  justice  within  such  county  shall  forfeit  for  his  neglect  £5,  one  moiety  thereof  to  be 
unto  him  or  them  that  shall  sue  for  the  same.'  A  governor  is  also  to  be  appointed,  who  is 
to  employ  the  rogues,  vagabonds,  &c.,  committed  to  the  house  of  correction,  and  to  punish 
them  by  putting  fetters  upon  them  and  moderately  whipping  them.  The  prisoners  to  be  in 
no  sort  chargeable  to  the  coimty,  but  to  have  such  allowance  as  they  shall  deserve  by  their 
labour. 

"  This  statute  was  continued  by  two  others  in  the  reign  of  Charles  I.,  after  which  the 
times  became  unfavourable  for  the  amelioration  of  the  prisoners'  condition.  During  a  period 
of  considerably  more  than  a  century,  little  was  done  in  this  respect  beyond  the  passing  of  a 
fevt  statutes>  having  for  their  object  the  repairing,  enlarging,  erecting,  and  providing  houses 
of  correction,  and  rendering  somewhat  less  severe  the  punishment  of  vagrants.  The 
effective  superintendence  and  discipline  of  all  prisons,  however,  appear  to  have  been  greatly 
neglected. 

"  Some  attempts  weife  made  in  the  year  1701,  by  the  Society  for  Promoting  Christian 
Knowledge,  to  obtain  the  introduction  of  a  system  of  discipline  in  the  prisons  of  London, 
but  their  efforts  do  not  appear  to  have  been  suocessfiil  $  neither  can  it  be  ascertained  that 


492  THE  GBEAT  VOBLD  OP  LONDON. 

any  benefit  reaalted  from  the  32nd  Geo.  11.  c.  28  (a.d.  1759),  by  which  juBtioeB  an 
required  to  prepare  rules  for  the  good  government  of  all  prisons,  which  roles,  after  being 
approTed  by  the  judges,  are  to  have  the  ftdl  force  of  law. 

''  Howard  speaks  of  our  prisons,  both  jails  and  houses  of  correction,  or  '  brideweHs,'  as 
he  calls  them,  as  being,  at  the  time  of  his  first  inspection,  the  scenes  of  filth  and  contagion, 
of  idleness  and  intemperance,  of  extortion  and  cruelty,  of  debauchery  and  immorality,  of 
profaneness  and  blasphemy ;  and  also  as  being  places  in  which  all  sorts  of  prisoners — debtors, 
and  felons — ^men  and  women — the  young  beginner  and  the  old  offender — ^were  confined 
together.  His  attention  was  directed  to  the  state  of  our  prisons  in  the  spring  of  1773,  when 
he  became  sheriff  for  the  county  of  Bedford ;  and  we  find  that  during  this  very  year  the  statate 
the  18th  Geo.  III.  c.  58,  providing  clergymen  to  officiate  in  every  jail  in  England,  was 
passed.  In  the  following  year  he  obtedned  the  passing  of  the  14th  Geo.  III.  c.  20, 
*  relieving  acquitted  prisoners  from  the  payment  of  fees  to  jailers,'  as  well  as  the  14tli  Geo. 
in.  c.  59,  'for  the  preservation  of  the  health  of  prisoners  in  jails,'  requiring  that  jails 
should  be  kept  clean  and  well  ventilated,  that  infirmaries  and  baths  therein  should  be 
provided,  that  an  experienced  surgeon  or  apothecary  should  be  appointed,  that  the  prisoners 
should  be  furnished  with  needful  clothing,  and  that  they  should  be  prevented  being  kept 
under  ground,  whm  it  eotdd  he  done  eoiwenienify, 

"  Howard  intended  this  last  statute  to  have  effect  in  aU  prisons,  but  was  surprised  to  learn 
that  it  was  applicable  only  to  comity  jails,  and  did  not,  in  any  respect,  affect  houses  of 
correction.  This  circumstance  led  to  the  passing  of  the  22nd  Qeo.  III.  c.  64  (▲.n.  1782), 
explained  and  amended  by  the  24th  Geo.  III.  c.  55  (a.d.  1784),  by  which  justices  of  the 
peace  are  required  to  cause  all  houses  of  correction  to  be  inspected,  with  a  view  to  their 
being  made  '  more  convenient  and  useful,  having  regard  to  the  classes  of  the  several  persons 
who  shall  be  kept  there,  according  to  the  nature  of  their  crimes  and  punishments ;  and  to 
the  keeping  every  part  of  such  prison  clean  and  wholesome.'  And  they  are  required  to 
provide  separate  apartments  for  all  persons  committed  upon  charges  of  felony,  or  convicted 
of  any  theft  or  larceny,  and  committed  for  punishment  by  hard  labour,  in  order  to  prevent 
any  commxmication  between  them  and  the  other  prisoners.  They  are  also  to  provide  sepa- 
rate apartments  for  t^e  women,  who  shall  be  committed  thither.  By  this  statate  various 
rules,  orders,  And  regulations,  given  for  the  better  government  of  prisoners,  are  to  be  duly 
observed  and  enforced,  and  power  is  given  to  the  justices  to  appoint,  if  they  see  fit,  a 
minister  of  the  Church  of  England  to  perform  divine  service  every  Sunday. 

"  These  Uet-mmUoned  sioMee  may  be  eonMered  as  the  eammeneement  of  a  new  era  m  the 
fnana^ement  of  houses  ofeorreeUon.  Ever  since  they  were  passed,  legislators  and  magistrates 
have  been  alike  anxious  that  prisons  of  this  kind  should  be,  as  far  as  possible,  effective  in 
the  suppression  of  crime,  and  new  laws  have  been  from  time  to  time  made,  and  new  regulationa 
adopted  for  the  accompUshment  of  this  great  object;  tread-wheel  labour  was  introduced 
into  most  of  the  houses  of  correction  in  the  kingdom,  prisoners  were  subdivided  into  more 
numerous  classes,  and  the  silent  system  was  enforced;  but  the  result  of  these  several 
changes  was  not  satisfactory." 

%*  History  of  Surrey  Souse  of  Correction  at  Wandsworth. — ^The  Building  Committee  oi 
the  Surrey  Magistrates  having  given  the  above  concise  history  as  to  houses  of  correction  in 
genera],  now  proceed  to  speak  of  those  for  their  own  county  in  particular.  "  The  magis- 
trates for  the  county  of  Surrey,"  they  add,  "  have  not  been  remiss  in  the  care  of  the 
prisoners  under  their  diarge.  Under  the  provisions  of  the  Slst  Geo.  III.  c.  22  (a  private  Act 
obtained  by  themselves — ^a.d.  1791),  they  caused  the  county  jail,  inHorsemongerLane,  to  be 
erected,  and  immediately  after  the  invention  of  tread- wheel  labour,  in  1822,  the  bouses  of 
correction  at  Brixton  and  Guildford  were  built.  These  prisons  were  constructed  after  flie 
best  examples  of  prison  architecture  known  at  that  time;  and  as  extensive  a  system  of 


HOTTSB  OP  COEEEOnOir,  WANDBWOETH.  498 

classification  and  discipline  was  at  all  times  maintained  in  each  as  the  nature  of  fhe 
buildings  and  the  number  of  the  prisoners  wonld  admit. 

*^  Moreover,  at  the  General  Quarter  Sessions,  held  at  Eeigate,  in  April,  1845,  when  the 
attention  of  the  public  had  become  directed  to  the  system  of  discipline  on  trial  at  Penton- 
Tille,  a  large  Committee  of  Magistrates  was  appointed  'for  the  purpose  of  inquiring  generally 
into  the  present  system  of  prison  discipline  and  management  in  the  county ;  and  into  the 
propriety  of  adopting  the  separate  system  in  the  county  prisons,'  &c. 

''  This  Ck>mmittee  presented,  at  the  Easter  Sessions,  1846,  its  report,  which  was  printed 
and  circulated  amongst  the  magistrates.  In  it  they  stated  it  as  their  opinion,  that  the 
separate  system  could  not  be  introduced  into  any  of  the  prisons  of  the  county  without  their 
entire  reconstruction.  They  f^irther  stated,  that  these  prisons  were  by  no  means  in  a  satis- 
factory state,  being  neither  in  accordance  with  the  recommendations  of  the  prison  inspectors, 
nor,  in  some  instances,  with  the  strict  letter  of  the  law. 

"l^us  report  was  approved  by  the  Sessions,  but  shortly  afterwards  the  number  of  prisoners 
in  each  of  the  several  houses  of  correction  in  the  county  became  so  great,  as  to  render 
imperative  the  adoption  of  immediate  measures  for  their  proper  custody. 

**  It  happened,  however,  shortly  afterwards,  that  the  surgeon  of  Brixton  prison  presented 
a  report  at  the  Kingston  Sessions  (October,  1846),  in  which  it  was  stated  that  '  during 
the  winter  months  in  the  past  year,  fever  of  a  severe  form  was  very  general  throughout 
the  prison,  which  was  increased  in  consequence  of  the  overcrowded  state  of  the  cells,  in 
many  of  which  four  persons  are  often  obliged  to  sleep,  three  of  whom  occupy  a  space  of 
only  three  feet  nine  inches  in  width,  so  that  when  epidemic  or  contagious  diseases  arise  they 
are  much  augmented.' 

"  This  led  to  a  Committee  of  twenty-two  Magistrates  being  appointed,  itic  tiie  purpose  of 
ascertaining  the  best  means  by  which  adequate  accommodation  might  be  provided  for  the 
prisoners  of  the  county. 

''  This  Committee  presented,  at  the  following  Epiphany  Sessions,  a  lengthened  report, 
of  which  the  following  is  a  summary : — 

''  That  the  deficiency  of  cells  in  the  county  could  not  be  estimated  at  less  than/nir 
hundred  and  forty  ;  and  if  the  Sessions  should  direct  the  discontinuance  of  the  use 
of  the  prison  at  Kingston  (which  the  Committee  recommended),  a  further  deficiency 
of  about  sixty  cells  would  be  thereby  occasioned,  making  a  total  deficiency  of  five 
hundred  cells. 
''  That  in  consequence  of  this  great  deficiency,  there  were  at  the  House  of  Correction  at 
Brixton  no  less  than  seventy  cells,  in  each  of  which  three  prisoners  ordinarily  slept, 
the  dimensions  of  these  cells  being  only  eight  feet  by  six  feet,  and  eight  feet  high. 
''  That  such  prisoners  slept  on  the  fioor  of  the  cell,  on  two  mattresses,  placed  together, 

and  under  the  same  covering. 
<'  That  this  was  the  case  with  males  as  well  as  females. 
''  That  this  deficiency  led  to  similar  results  at  the  House  of  Correction  at  Guildford, 

where  the  cells  were  only  four  inches  wider,  and  a  little  higher. 
''  That  the  then  existing  prisons  of  the  county  were  not  capable  of  sufficient  extension 
to  meet  the  deficiency,  and  that,  consequently,  a  new  prison  must  of  necessity  be  erected 
on  some  other  site. 
''  That  it  was  expedient  that  a  new  prison,  capable  of  containing  750  prisoners,  and 
susceptible  of  further  extension,  should  be  erected  on  some  convenient  site,  hereafter 
to  be  determined  on;  and  that  the  Houses  of  Correction  at  Kingston,  Brixton,  and 
Guildford  should  be  abandoned  and  disposed  of. 
'<  That  the  permanent  annual  expenditure  for  the  staff  and  repairs  in  one  large  prison 
would  be  so  much  less  than  iu  three  or  four  smaller  ones,  as  not  only  to  justify  the 
outlay,  but  to  render  it  desirable  as  a  measure  of  economy. 


494  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

''  This  reporti  having  been  printed  and  circulated  amongst  the  magiBtrates  of  the  county, 
was  taken  into  consideration  at  the  General  Quarter  Sefldons,  held  by  adjouniment  at  New- 
ington,  on  the  22nd  day  of  Marohi  1847,  prior  to  which  the  number  of  piiaoners  in  the 
House  of  Correction  at  Brixton  had  so  greatly  increased  that  not  only  were  three  and  some- 
times four  prisoners  placed  in  a  cell  to  sleep,  but  firom  twenty  to  forty  for  some  time  bad  been 
placed  together  to  sleep  on  straw  with  blankets  on  the  floor  of  tiie  school-room ;  and  the 
visiting  justices  of  the  prison,  with  the  view  of  obtaining  some  relief,  had  solicited  and 
obtained  from  the  Secretary  of  State  pardons  for  twenty  prisoners,*  who  were  dischaiged 
without  undergoing  the  whole  of  their  sentences.  An  inquest  also  having  been  held  near 
this  time  at  Brixton — as  is  required  by  law  in  the  case  of  the  death  of  every  prisoner- 
the  jury  added  to  their  verdict,  'And  we,  the  juiy,  request  the  coroner  to  forward  a 
representation  of  the  great  number  of  prisoners  confined  in  this  house  of  conection 
beyond  the  calculated  accommodation,  for  the  consideration  of  the  visiting  justices,  lest  a 
contagious  fever  should  break  out,  to  the  great  alarm  and  danger  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
locality.' 

"  A  state  of  things  so  extensively  interfering  with  the  due  administration  of  justice— fio 
completely  at  variance  with  the  enactment,  requiring,  as  a  general  rule,  that  every  prisoner 
should  have  a  separate  sleeping-cell,  and  that  every  male  prisoner,  without  exception,  should 
have  a  separate  bed — so  dangerous  to  health — so  subversive  of  morality  and  discipline— «nd 
so  repugnant  to  every  feeling  of  delicacy,  could  not  be  continued.  The  Sessions,  therefore, 
resolved  that  a  new  house  of  correction  for  700  prisoners  should  be  erected,  arranged  as  re- 
commended ;  and  the  Gonmiittee  was  re«appointed  to  carry  the  same  into  effect. 

''  The  Committee  immediately  commenced  their  labours.  They  resolved  that  the  site  of 
the  new  prison  should  be  within  a  nule  of  a  railway  station,  and  not  Airther  from  London 
than  six  or  eight  nules." 


\*  Capacity  and  Cod  o/the  Wandnfforth  JPriaan. — ''At  the  Sessions  held  in 
1847,  the  Conmiittee  recommended  the  purchase  of  the  site  on  which  the  prison  has  since 
been  erected,  at  the  cost  of  £dOO  per  acre,  exclusive  of  buildings,  trees,  and  crops,  that  were 
to  be  taken  at  a  valuation.  It  was  stated  to  contain  about  24  acres,  but  was  afterwazda 
found  to  contain  26a.  2n.  dOp. 

"A  less  expensive  site  could,  no  doubt,  have  been  obtained  at  a  greater  distance  from 
London,  but  such  a  purchase  would  so  have  increased  the  cost  of  conveying  prisoners,  and 
would  have  so  interfered  with  the  supplies  of  the  prison  by  public  competition,  as  to  render 
it  one  of  obvious  impropriety. 

"  The  Conmiittee  also  purchased  about  eight  acres  more  land,  in  front  of  the  prison,  for 
£350,  subject  to  the  condition  that  no  building  should  be  erected  upon  it  except  a  lodge— 
the  prison  being  thus  effectually  protected  from  annoyance  on  three  sides,  whilst  there  is 
little  probability  of  any  arising  on  the  fourth. 

"At  the  followii^  Sessions  (Michaelmas,  1847),  the  Committee,  after  much  careAil  cos' 
sideration,  recommended  that  the  separate  system  of  prison  discipline  should  be  adopted  is 
the  new  prison,  in  which  the  Court  concurred. 

"  The  Committee  ultimately  appointed  Mr.  S.  B.  TTill,  of  BirminghaiB,  a  gentleman  of 
considerable  experience  in  erections  of  this  kind,  to  prepare  the  plans  required,  and  to  act 
generally  as  architect  during  the  progress  of  the  work. 

"  These  plans  are  uniform  and  complete  for  a  prison  containing  708  prisoners,  on  the 
separate  system,  and  are  yet  so  arranged  as  to  admit  of  the  buildings  being  enlarged  to  sach 
an  extent  as  to  be  suitable  for  1,000  prisoners,  without  interfering  with  the  original  build- 
ings, or  destroying  their  uniformity. 

*  The  pardons  of  fifUen  more  were  obtained  shortly  afteriraida,  for  the  samo  i«aiaD« 


HOUSE  OF  COBKECTION,  WANDSWORTH. 


495 


**  The  area  enclosed  witliiii  the  boundary  wall,  including  the  wall  and  the  residences  of 
the  officers,  &o.,  is  12a.  Oe.  Up.;  and  including  the  gardens  in  front  and  the  road  on  either 
ride,  ftc.,  16a.  1b.  29p. 

''  The  prison  contains  708  cells,  suitable  for  the  separate  confinement  of  prisoners,  toge- 
ther with  24  reception  cells,  22  punishment  cells,  and  14  large  rooms  erected  for  misde- 
meanants of  the  first  class,  but  generally  used  for  prisoners  subject  to  fits,  or  in  other 
respects  improper  objects  for  separate  confinement.  As  there  are  at  all  times  some  prisoners 
in  these  large  rooms,  as  well  as  in  the  reception  cells  and  infirmaries,  it  is  beliered  there 
is  ample  accommodation  in  the  prison  for  750  prisoners. 

''The  contract  for  the  main  buildings  having  been  executed,  the  works  were  com* 
menced  early  in  the  spring  of  the  year  1849." 


The  gross  cost  of  the  prison,  according  to  the  statement  of  accounts  appended  to  the  final 
report  of  the  Building  Committee,  was  as  follows : — 

£      s.    d. 


Landy  ICr.  Potter 
Ditto,  Lord  Spencer 
Buildings,  trees,  and  crops 
Yaluations,  wages,  taxes,  tithes,  &c. 


Total  cost  of  land,  &o. 


£  «.  d, 

8,006  6  0 

350  0  0 

1,110  0  0 

374  0  3 


£      9.    d. 


9,840     5     3 


Main-buildings,  amount  of  contract 

Additional  ditto  .  3,867    6    7 

Less  works  not  executed        £  81  15    3 

Less  brick  duty  337     1     8 


418  16  11 


Total  cost  of  buildings 


101,000    0    0 


3,448     9     8 


104,448    9    8 


Ventilation  and  warming    . 

Distribution  of  water 

The  well   .... 

Pomps       .... 

Pumiture,  fittings,  &c. 

vias  •         .         .         •         • 

Locks,  bolts,  beUs,  &c. 

Commission 

Secretary  .... 

Clerk  of  the  works 

Boads   .... 

Printing,  books,  stationery,  &c. 

Insurance 

Materials  .        .        .        . 

Miscellaneous 


Balance  in  hand 


4,401 

4,655 

988 

648 

2,546 

1,015 

1,772 

3,663 

289 

586 

662 

195 

30 

552 

11 


12  6 

10  3 

10  0 

3  0 

5  3 

17  0 
8  11 

18  0 


5 

17 


2 

7 


8     8 


17 
0 


7 
0 


9     6 
1     8 


136,308  19     7 
4,010  11     9 

140,319  11     4 


496  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

« In  oonudering  ihe  cost  of  the  building,  the  prison  most  be  regarded  as  one  for  1,000 
prisoners — snfficient  land  having  been  enclosed  within  the  boundary  walls,  and  the  ceniral 
halls,  the  chapel,  the  kitchen,  the  infirmaries,  the  reception  and  pnnishinent  cells,  the  ofliceB, 
the  pumps,  the  drains,  and  indeed  all  parts  of  the  building,  having  been  erected  for  this  laigc 
number  of  prisoners — ^although  the  extra  250  cells  have  not  yet  been  provided." 

%*  Seasons  far  BmUUng  the  Chapel  on  the  Separate  System. — **  During  the  erection  of 
the  prison,  the  Committee  ascertained  that  some  of  the  inq)ector8  of  prisons  objected  to 
prisoners  being  placed  in  enclosed  pews,  or  stalls,  in  prison  chapels,  that  all  the  fittings  of 
this  kind  in  the  large  prison  at  Wakefield  had  been  removed,  and  also  that  in  some  prisonsi 
recently  erected,  the  prisoners,  whilst  in  chapel,  are  not  in  any  respect  separated,  but  are 
seated  on  forms  placed  across  the  chapel  floor,  the  back  seats  being  slightly  elevated.  Under 
these  droumstances,  all  fdrther  proceedings  in  the  preparation  of  fitthigs  for  the  chapel 
were  suspended  until  the  subject  could  be  again  considered. 

*'  The  chapel  arrangements,  as  contracted  for,  corresponded  exactly  with  those  in  use  at 
Fentonville,  and  the  objections  raised  to  them  were  found  to  be : — 

"  First. — ^The  possibility  of  the  prisoners  in  adjoining  stalls  communicating  with  each 
other,  if  not  most  vigilantly  watched,  by  thrusting  slips  of  pi^er  under  the  doon 
separating  the  stalls. 

**  Seeondlif. — ^Ihe  annoyance  and  confusion  that  might  be,  and  sometimes  was,  occa- 
sioned by  prisoners  becoming  ill,  or  pretending  to  be  so,  whilst  placed  in  those 
stalls,  to  which  access  could  only  be  obtained  by  the  removal  of  a  eonndeniUe 
number  of  other  prisoners  from  their  places. 

**  Thirdly. — The  difficulty  of  getting  the  female  prisoners  and  their  officers  in  and  oat 
of  the  chapel  without  being  observed  by  the  male  prisoners. 

''  And  Lasdff. — ^That  some  chaplains  prefer  social  worship  on  principle,  and  consider 
that  their  ministration  is  more  effective  when  the  service  is  so  conducted. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  the  removal  of  all  partitions,"  adds  the  report,  ''  must  be  regarded 
as  an  abandonment  of  the  principle  of  the  separate  system,  and  of  tlie  advantages  presmned 
to  result  from  prisoners  not  knowing  each  other ;  also  as  involving  considerable  risk, 
owing  to  the  number  of  officers  being  always  small  in  comparison  with  the  number  of 
prisoners,  and  as  being  scarcely  in  accordance  with  those  statutary  r^fulations  req[iiired 
to  be  observed  in  prisons  respecting  classification. 

''  The  Committee  moreover  ascertained  that  by  the  adoption  of  a  different  mode  of 
fittings,  involving  the  abandonment  of  some  of  the  seats  in  the  chapel,  the  prisoners  in  a 
large  number  of  the  seats  could  be  approached  without  interfering  with  any  of  the  oAcr 
prisoners,  and  the  means  of  communicating  with  each  other  above  mentioned  effectosUy 
prevented.  They  also  ascertained,  that  by  the  erection  of  a  screen  along  one  side  of  tbe 
chapel  the  females  could  come  in  and  go  out  without  being  observed  by  the  males. 

''  These  arrangements  have  been  introduced,  and  an  effective  means  of  inspection  pro- 
vided, consequently  three  of  the  objections  have  been  in  a  great  measure  removed.  WiA 
regard  to  the  fourth,  whilst  the  Committee  would  treat  with  great  defisrenoe  the  opisioiis 
of  those  deigymen  who  would  have  ooeiai  worship  in  prisons,  they  are  aware  that  this 
is  a  subject  on  which  there  is  much  difference  of  opinion,  and  they  feel  it  would  not  be 
prudent  to  give  up  this  part  of  the  separate  system  without  greater  experience  of  its  ill 
effects. 

<<  The  prison  was  opened  for  the  admission  of  male  prisoners  in  November,  1851,  and  tx 
female  prisoners  in  the  April  following." 


%*  Ferm  of  JXtrd  Zdbont  AiepUd  at  the  Swrroy  PriiMi«— '' With  respect  to  the  best 


HOUSE  OP  COERECTION,  WANDSWOETH.  497 

means  by  which  sentences  to  hard  labour  might  be  effectively  earned  out  in  the  prison,  the 
Committee  were  of  opinion,  that  tread-wheel  labour  is  not  only  inexpedient  on  account  of  its 
great  cost,  but  also  of  its  inapplicability  to  a  prison  conducted  on  the  separate  system ;  and 
they  recommended  that  tread-wheel  labour  should  not  be  adopted  in  the  new  prison,  because 
they  considered  that  in  a  prison  under  the  separate  system,  means  for  the  indiyidual  occupa- 
tion of  prisoners  at  efficient  hard  labour,  in  compliance  with  the  sentences  of  the  Courts, 
should  be  provided  in  the  cells. 

"  The  best  method  by  which  this  may  be  effected  is  by  means  of  labour-machines,  pro- 
Tided  that  such  machines,  imezceptionable  in  their  construction,  can  be  procured. 

''Accordingly,  100  of  the  best  labour-machines  were  bought,  and  they  hare  been  found 
to  answer  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  intended. 

"  The  only  means  of  enforcing  hard  labour  properly  so-called,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
ordinary  occupations  of  life,  are  the  100  labour-machines  already  mentioned,  and  the  pumps. 
All  prisoners  sentenced  to  hard  labour,  and  passed  by  the  surgeon  as  'fit,'  are  put  to  tiiie 
mafihines  when  they  first  come  into  the  prison,  and  are  kept  at  them  (maldng  15,000  revo- 
lutions  per  day)  for  terms  varying  from  one  month  to  three,  if  their  sentences  last  so  long. 
The  length  of  time  during  which  a  prisoner  is  kept  at  the  machine  varies  according  to  the 
length  of  his  sentence  and  the  necessity  for  transferring  him,  in  order  to  make  room  for 
fireah  comers.  When  the  admissions  are  small,  the  prisoners  are  kept  three  months  at  the 
least  at  the  machines,  if  sentenced  to  so  long  periods;  but  when  the  admissions  are  numerous, 
this  cannot  always  be  effected.  From  the  machines  they  are  transferred  to  the  pumping 
classes,  where  they  remain  for  a  limited  period;  after  which  they  are  employed  in  the 
garden,  or  at  trades,  or  at.  work  about  the  prison,  or  in  picking  oakum. 

"  The  employments  for  male  prisoners,  not  hoing  hard  labour,  are  gardening,  carpenter- 
ing, tailoring,  shoemaking,  matmaking,  bricklayer's  and  smith's  work,  netting,  painting, 
and  cleaning. 

"  The  whole  employment  for  female  prisoners  consists  of  work  in  the  wash-house  and 
laundry,  picking  coir,  needlework,  and  cleaning. 

"It  is  obvious,  therefore,  that  a  sufficient  provision  has  not  yet  been  made  for  the 
effectual  enforcing  of  all^  hard-labour  sentences ;  and,  indeed,  for  the  female  prisoners  there 
is  no  hard  labour  whatever  except  washing." 

%*  Cf  the  Syit&m  of  Prieon  Diseipline  at  WandHCorth. — "  It  cannot,  perhaps,  be  ex- 
pected that  any  proceedings  in  prisons  will  produce  much  permanent  impression  on  the 
minds  of  prisoners  bom  and  reared  in  crime,  and  who  have  not  only  become  fascinated  with 
the  excitement  of  criminal  life,  but  have  no  course  open  to  them  on  their  discharge  from 
prison,  except  that  of  returning  to  their  former  haunts  of  vice.  Fortunately,  however,  aU 
prisoners  are  not  of  this  hopeless  class.  Many  of  them  have  Mends  anxious  for  their  weLhre, 
and  ready  to  assist  them  in  their  efforts  to  obtain  an  honest  livelihood.  They  have,  probably, 
fallen  in  an  unguarded  moment,  under  the  influence  of  some  strong  temptation,  or  have  been 
led  into  crime  by  bad  companions,  into  whose  society  they  had  Mien,  not  being  sufficiently 
awaze  of  the  evil  consequences  certain  to  result  from  such  an  association. 

**  On  prisoners  of  this  kind  the  disdpline  of  the  prison  may  reasonably  be  expected  to 
have  a  beneficial  effect.  The  deterring  character  of  the  imprisonment,  the  opportunities  for 
reflection,  the  solemn  warnings,  the  judicious  advice,  and  the  kind  entreaties  to  which  every 
prifloner  is  subjected,  cannot  always  be  unavailing,  audit  is  believed  they  have  a  satisfactory 
resolt  in  a  large  proportion  of  sudi  cases  as  have  just  been  mentioned. 

"  Whilst,  therefore,  the  diMnplina  of  this  prison  may  be  Mrly  expected  to  do  good,  it  is 
obvious  that  no  priBoner  there  can  receive  any  moral  injury  from  it.  The  charge  so  fre- 
quently made  against  the  associated  system  of  discipline,  that  prisoners  under  it  are  genwally 
eocropted  rather  than  improved^  ii  here  no  longer  applicable. 


498  THE  GEEAT  WOULD  OP  LONDON. 

''  It  appears  to  the  Conmiittee,  that  it  oannot  be  too  deeply  impressed  on  the  mind  of  the 
Court  and  the  public  at  large,  that  the  principle  of  the  '  separate  system'  is  not  mUin 
iolUude  or  Menee^  but  the  complete  separatum  of  prisoners  from  each  otiier.  It  is,  indeed, 
an  important  feature  of  the  system,  that  prisoners  under  it  should  haye  frequent  intercourse 
with  the  goremor,  chaplain,  surgeon,  schoolmaster,  taskmaster,  and  other  officers ;  and  it  u 
satisfactory  to  report  that  no  circumstances  have  occurred  in  the  prison  to  induce  the  Gom- 
mittee  to  think  less  favourably  of  the  system  than  when  it  was  determined  on  by  the 
county,  and  they  look  forward  with  confidence  to  its  entire  success. 

"For  the  juyenile  offenders,  no  distinct  proyision  has  been  made  in  the  prigon  at 
Wandsworth,  m  the  anticipation  that  some  oomprehensiye  measure  for  their  treatment  will 
shortly  be  adopted.  The  consideration  of  this  subject  cannot  prudently  be  much  longer 
neglected,  since  there  is  reason  to  belieye,  that  whilst  the  aggregate  number  of  prisoners  baa 
considerably  diminished,  the  number  of  juyenile  delinquents  has  increased.  A  separate 
school-room  has  been  provided  for  them,  and  much  time  and  attention  is  devoted  to  their 
instruction,  at  the  same  time  it  must  be  confessed  these  alone  are  not  sufficient  to  remedy  this 
serious  evil ;  it  is,  therefore,  trusted  that  Parliament  will  provide  at  no  distant  period  some 
effective  scheme  for  the  reformation  of  this  class  of  offenders,  and  thereby  out  off  from  the 
ranks  of  maturer  criminals  those  dangerous  recruits,  who  are  now  but  too  ready  to  mute 
with  them  in  the  performance-  of  the  most  daring  crimes." 

The  Committee  conclude  by  stating  that  "  they  cannot  terminate  their  proceedings  more 
agreeably  to  themselves,  than  in  congratulating  the  county  on  having  secured  the  s^yices  of 
a  gentleman  as  governor  so  eminently  qualified  to  superintend  this  great  prison  with  effect; 
and  who,  by  his  abilities  and  assiduity,  conducted  it  through  all  the  difficulties  attendant 
upon  the  introduction  of  a  new  system  of  discipline,  in  a  new  and  scarcely  completed 
building,  and  who  has  now  reduced  it  to  a  state  of  order  which  has  elicited  ilie  adminh 
tion  of  those  who  are  most  competent  to  form  a  just  opinion  of  its  merits."* 

*  BULES  AIO)  BSGTTIiATIONS  BSLATINa  TO  THIS  CONDUCT  AKD  TREATHENT  07  PRISOmOiS  IK  TBE  BOimi  OF 

COARBCnON,  AT  WAKDBWOSTH,  IK  THS  OOUKTT  07  SVBBST. 

"The  governor  shall  exercise  his  authority  with  flrmneBS,  temper,  and  humanity;  ahatain  from  a& 
irritating  langoage,  and  not  strike  a  prisoner.  He  shall  bear  in  mind  that  the  object  of  his  dotifli^  and  of 
those  of  all  officers  and  servants  under  hia  direction,  is  not  only  to  give  full  effect  to  the  sentences  awarded 
to  the  prisoners  daring  their  confinement,  but  also  to  instil  into  their  minds  sound  moral  and  leligiofai 
principles,  and  induce  in  them  practical  habits  of  industry,  regularity,  and  good  conduct.  With  thia  riev, 
while  enforcing  strict  observance  of  the  rules  regarding  labour  and  discipline,  the  governor  shall  be  caiefiil 
to  encourage  any  effort  at  amendment  on  the  part  of  the  prisoner,  and  shall  require  all  officers  and  serrsBts 
of  the  prison,  in  their  several  capacities,  to  do  the  same. 

**  He  shall  direct  that  all  prisoners  on  admission  be  plaoed  in  a  reception  cell,  that  they  be  stridly 
searched,  and  that  all  knives  and  other  aharp  instruments  or  dangerous  weapons,  or  articles  calculated  to 
facilitate  escape,  be  taken  from  them ;  except  as  hereinafter  provided  with  respect  to  debtors  and  mis- 
demeanants of  the  first  division  \  but  in  no  case  shall  any  prisoner  of  any  class  whatever  be  searched  in  the 
presence  of  any  other  prisoner. 

"  He,  or  some  other  officer,  shall,  as  soon  as  possible  after  the  admission  of  a  prisoner,  note  down  in  fte 
prison  register,  the  prisoner's  name,  age,  height,  features,  ftc ;  he  shaU  take  charge  of,  and  enter,  or  eaase  to 
be  entered,  in  the  Prisoner's  Property  Book,  an  inventory  of  all  money,  dothes,  and  other  efieeta  whiek  the 
prisoner  may  have  on  his  admission,  or  which,  £n>m  time  to  time,  may  be  sent  to  the  prison  for  his  use ;  be 
shall  take  charge  of  them  for  safe  custody  only,  and  for  the  purpose  of  being  restored  as  directed  by  one  or 
more  of  the  visiting  justices;  or  (in  the  case  of  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division)  as. directed  by  the 
rules  for  that  class. 

^'  He  shall  cause  copies  of  such  of  the  rules  as  relate  to  the  treatment  and  condoot  of  prisonsn  (psstod 
in  legible  characters)  to  be  fixed  up  in  each  cell,  and  he  shall  read,  or  cause  to  be  read|  sooh  rales  to  wuA 
prisoners  as  oaxmot  read ;  and  once  in  every  three  months  he  shall  repeat  the  same. 

**  He  shall  enforce  a  high  degree  of  defmliness  in  the  prison,  as  well  as  respects  ereiy  part  of  the  bnUiag 
and  yards,  as  the  persons  of  the  prisoners,  their  clothing  and  bedding,  and  everything  in  use. 

**  He  shall  direct  that  every  prisoner  wash  himself  thoroughly,  at  least  once  eyery  day,  and  Us  Ibct  at 


TENTILATINa  SHiJT,  WAHDSWOSTE. 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  499 

On  the  day  of  our  last  visit  there  were  altogether  830  male  and  female  priaoners  located 
in  the  prison,  and  these  were  distributed  in  the  following  manner : — 

FBI80NZBB  IN  CUSTODY  AT  THE  M7EEET  BOUSE  OP  OOaRBOTION,  WAKDSWORTIT,  17TH  SEPTEMBER,  18G0. 


Ward  A 155 

B 

C 

D 

E 

lofirmary — sick    .... 
1}  „  nurses    •    •    . 

n  if  itch    .... 

Punisbment 4  Total  ....••    190 

Beception 5 


it 

M 


1> 


149 

n 

13 

n 

172 

» 

122 

»> 

17 

>» 

2 

9* 

1 

4 

6 

640 

WardP&O 71 

H    .     .    . 106 

loflrmary — sick      ....  2 

„           nurses  .    •    •    .  1. 

|y                      IbCu            ■        .        .        •  ^ 

Panishment 3 

Beception 5 


Total 

General  total 830 

least  once  each  week :  and  he  shall  see  that  each  prisoner  has  a  towel,  a  comb,  and  a  snfUcient  tapply  of 
soap. 

^'He  shall  direct  that  all  priaoners,  except  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division,  or  unless  they  are  excepted 
by  tLe  medical  officer,  on  their  admission  into  the  prison,  be  washed  in  a  bath  before  they  shaU  be  passed 
into  their  proper  wards ;  but  no  prisoner  shall  be  stripped  or  bathed  in  the  presence  of  any  other  prisoner. 

**  He  shall  direct  that  in  no  case  the  hair  of  any  female  prisoner  be  cut,  except  when  he  thinks  it  necessary 
on  account  of  vermin  or  dirt,  or  when  the  medical  officer  deems  it  requisite  on  the  ground  of  health ;  and 
that  the  hair  of  male  prisoners  be  not  cut  except  for  the  purpose  of  health  and  cleanliness.  He  shall  see 
that  male  prisoners  be  shaved  at  least  once  a  week. 

«  He  shall  direct  that  all  convicted  prisoners,  except  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division,  be  supplied  with 
a  complete  prison  dress,  and  that  all  such  prisoners  be  required  to  wear  it ;  and  he  shall  see  that  misdemean- 
ants of  the  first  division  be  allowed  to  have  the  prison  dress,  if  they  desire  it,  and  be  required  to  wear  it,  if 
their  own  dothes  be  insufficient  or  unfit  for  use,  or  necessary  to  bo  preserved  for  the  purposes  of  justice. 

''  He  shall  direct  that  evezy  prisoner  be  supplied  with  clean  linen,  including  shirt  (whether  of  linen, 
cotton,  or  flannel),  stockings,  and  handkerchief,  at  least  once  in  every  week. 

'<He  shall  direct  that  every  prisoner  be  supplied  with  sufficient  bedding  for  warmth  and  health. 
"  He  shall  direct  that  the  prisoners  have  throe  meals  each  day ;  and  that  at  least  two  of  those  bo  hot. 
'^  He  shall  direct  that  no  prisoner  be  set  to  work  immediately  after  any  meal. 

**He  shall,  under  the  direction  of  the  visiting  justices,  make  due  provision  for  the  enforcement  of  hard 
labour  in  the  case  of  such  prisoners  as  are  sentenced  thereto.  He  shall  also,  under  the  direction  of  tho 
visiting  justices,  provide  employment,  with  the  requisite  materials  and  instructions,  for  all  other  prisoners 
(except  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division,  and  prisoners  for  bail  on  sureties),  and  shall  see  that  mis- 
demeanants of  the  first  division  have  the  option  of  employment. 

*'  He  shall  direct  that  strict  silence  be  at  all  times  observed  by  the  convicted  prisoners :  and  tho  prisoners 
shall  bo  confined  to  their  cells  on  Sundays,  except  when  attending  Divine  Service  or  school. 

'^  He  shall  see  that  no  prisoner  who  is  a  Jew  be  compelled  to  labour  on  his  Sabbath ;  but  such  prisoner 
shall  be  confined  to  his  cell  in  the  same  manner  as  all  prisoners  on  Sundays. 

"  He  shall  see  that  all  prisoners,  including  those  sentenced  to  hard  labour,  have  such  an  amount  of  time 
allowed  to  them  for  instruction  as  the  visiting  justices  may  appoint. 

'*  He  shall  allow  prisoners  to  see  their  legal  advisers  on  an  order  from  a  visiting  justice.  Every  person, 
however,  claiming  admission  as  a  legal  adviser  must  be  a  certificated  attorney  or  solicitor,  or  his  authorized 
clerk. 

"He  shall  not  allow  convicted  prisoners  to  see  their  relations  and  iViends  until  after  the  expiration  of  t}:e 
first  three  months  of  their  imprisonment ;  but  subsequently  to  that  period  he  shall  allow  them  to  receive 
visits  once  in  the  course  of  each  successive  three  months.  In  case  of  sickness  or  other  special  oircum- 
stances,  however,  he  shall  aUow  convicted  prisoners  to  see  their  relations  and  friends  at  other  times ;  such 
special  circumstances  to  bs  entered  in  his  journal. 

**  Vyon  the  special  application  of  a  prisoner  of  a  religious  persuasion  diffiiring  from  that  of  the  Established 
Church,  he  shall  allow  auch  prisoner  to  absent  himself  from  chapel ;  and  in  accordance  with  the  spirit  of 
the  law,  with  rtspect  to  prisoners  of  a  religious  persuasion  differing  from  that  of  the  Established  Church, 
he  shall  allow  a  minister  of  such  persuasion,  at  the  special  request  of  any  such  prisoner,  to  visit  him,  in 


fiOO  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LONDON. 

The  Interior  of  the  Prison. 

On  our  summons  at  the  bell  and  presenting  our  order  from  the  visiting  justices  of  the 
prison,  we  were  admitted  by  the  warder,  a  tall  silver-headed  man,  within  the  porter*s-lodge. 
He  was  attired  in  the  uniform  of  the  officers  of  the  establishment,  white  trowsers,  blue 
sirtout  coat,  and  cap  with  peak.  The  porter's -lodge  is  a  neat  little  apartment  on  our  light 
hand,  as  we  enter  the  prison  gate,  and  suitably  furnished.  Its  furniture  consists  of  a 
desk  and  stool  for  the  warder,  and  several  chairs,  on  which  visitors  can  be  seated,  along  with 

order  to  give  him  the  instruction  and  counsel  which  he  would  otherwise  receive  in  his  class  or  prirate  cell 
from  the  chaplain,  under  such  restrictions  imposed  hy  the  visiting  justices  as  shall  guard  against  the  intro- 
duction of  improper  persons,  and  as  shall  prevent  improper  communications.     (See  Kotb.) 

*'  He  shall  not  permit  the  admission  of  visitors  to  prisoners  on  a  Sunday,  except  in  special  cases  bj  a 
written  order  of  a  committing  or  visiting  justice,  and  except  in  the  case  of  a  minister  visiting  any  prisoner 
of  a  religious  persuasion  differing  from  tiiat  of  the  Established  Church. 

*'  He  shall  allow  prisoners  to  send  and  receive  one  letter  in  the  course  of  each  quarter  of  a  year,  xalas  a 
visiting  or  oommitting  magistrate  shall  have  issued  an  order  to  the  contrary,  or  unless  be  shall  knov  a 
sufficient  cause  why  any  such  letter  should  not  be  sent  or  received ;  in  which  latter  case  he  shall  record  the 
fact  in  his  journal. 

"  He  shall  inspect  every  letter  to  or  from  a  prisoner,  except  such  letters  as  are  addressed  to  a  visiting 
justice  or  other  proper  authority  ;  and  in  every  case  where  he  shall  deem  it  necessary  to  withhold  a  letter 
either  to  or  from  a  prisoner,  he  shall  reoord  the  fact  in  his  journal,  and  shall  without  delay  lay  such  letter 
before  a  visiting  justice  for  his  decision. 

«  The  chaplain  may  inspect  every  letter  to  and  from  a  prisoner,  except  those  of  misdemeanants  of  the  fint 
division,  and  except  such  as  are  addressed  to  a  visiting  justice,  or  other  authority. 

"The  matron,  or  some  other  female  officer,  shall  search  evexy  female  prisoner  on  admission ;  and  the  same 
course  shall  be  pursued  by  her  with  reference  to  female  prisoners  on  admission  as  that  prescribed  for  the 
governor  with  reference  to  male  prisoners.  All  money  or  other  effects  brought  into  the  prison  by  any  female 
prisoner,  or  from  time  to  time  sent  in  for  her  use  and  benefit,  shall  be  transferred  to  the  governor. 

"Every  prisoner,  as  a  general  rule,  and  as  far  as  may  be  practicable,  shall  be  kept  in  separate  confinement. 

"Such  arrangements  shaU  be  made  in  the  prison  as  the  visiting  justices,  from  time  to  time,  shall  conaidtir 
ns  best  calculated  to  prevent  the  mutual  recognition  of  prisoners. 

"No  prisoner  shall  be  allowed  to  remain  in  bed  more  than  eight  hours  during  one  night,  except  by  ti.c 
direction  of  the  surgeon  of  the  prison. 

'*The  visiting  justices  shall  direct  such  books  as  they  think  proper  to  be  distributed  for  the  use  of  the 
prisoners  who  do  not  belong  to  the  Established  Church ;  and  should  examine  books  sent  in  for  the  use  u: 
such  prisoners,  and  reject  such  as  thej  deem  improper. 

"  They  may,  under  special  circumstances  (by  an  order  in  writing  by  two  or  more  of  them),  allow  to 
prisoners  food,  clothing,  or  other  necessaries,  besides  the  gaol  allowance. 

"  They  may,  in  special  cases  (by  an  order  in  writing,  by  two  or  more  of  them),  suspend  any  of  the  rulei 
for  misdemeanants  of  the  first  divis\pn,  reporting  the  same  to  the  Secretary  of  Stato  for  his  directum 
thereon. 

"  They  may  authorize  any  prisoner  to  be  employed  within  the  prison  in  the  service  of  the  prison,  bot  net 
in  its  discipline,  or  in  the  service  of  any  officer,  or  in  the  service  or  Instruction  of  any  other  prisoner. 

"  They  may,  if  they  shall  at  any  time  observe,  or  be  satisfactorily  informed,  of  any  extraordinary  diligence 
or  merit  in  any  prisoner  under  their  inspection,  report  the  same  to  the  justices  in  general  or  quarter  session 
assembled,  in  order  that  such  justices  may,  if  they  thnk  proper,  recommend  any  such  offender  to  the  n.>val 
mercy,  in  such  degree,  and  upon  such  terms  as  to  them  shall  seem  meet ;  and  if  her  Majesty  shaU  therenpcc 
be  graciously  pleased  to  shorten  the  duration  of  such  prisoner's  confinement,  such  prisoner  shall,  upon  h^ 
or  her  discharge,  together  with  necessary  clothing,  receive  such  sum  of  money  for  his  or  her  subsistenK  ta 
the  visiting  justices  for  the  time  being  shall  think  proper,  so  as  such  sum  shall  not  exceed  twenty  ahillia^ 


"  Non.  Boman  Catholic  prisoners,  and  Dissenters  of  every  denomination,  are  desired  to  take  noCioe,  thai 
the  clergyman  of  their  religion  will  bo  sent  for,  when  they  ask  for  him,  as  he  cannot  come  vaieM  cack 
prisoner  who  wiahes  to  see  him  makes  a  request  to  the  governor  of  the  prison.  This  notioe  is  givan  in  oider 
that  all  may  have  an  opportunity  of  iendbg  for  a  clergyman  of  their  own  reUgiooy  if  tiiey  dawe  kii 


preeence.*' 


J 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  601 

a  fire-screen.  On  the  wall  hangs  a  list  of  the  visiting  justices  in  a  dark  frame,  together 
with  a  list  of  the  justices  in  the  Central  Criminal  Court.  Alongside  the  desk  is  a  small 
letter-box  containing  the  letters  sent  to  post  by  the  officers  of  the  prison  as  well  as  the 
prisoners. 

We  were  introduced  by  the  goyemor  to  the  chief  warder,  a  noble  specimen  of  a  prison 
officer.  Though  in  mature  life  and  his  hair  silvered,  he  is  a  man  of  great  energy  and 
intelligence,  with  enlarged  experience  of  prison  discipline,  and  has  heen  connected  with  the 
prison  for  the  last  ten  years.  His  driess  was  distinguished  from  the  inferior  officers  of  the 
prison  by  having  the  neck  and  wrist  of  his  sirtout  and  also  the  back  embroidered  with  lace. 
By  the  kindness  of  the  governor,  this  active  and  accomplished  superior  officer  accompanied 
us  in  onr  visit  of  inspection  over  the  prison. 

nor  be  less  than  five  shillings,  in  case  such  offender  shall  have  been  confined  for  die  space  of  one  year,  and 
so  in  proportion  for  any  shorter  term  of  confinement. 

"  There  shall  be  in  each  division  a  sufficient  number  of  dark  and  other  oells,  adapted  to  solitary  confinement, 
for  the  punishment  of  refractory  prisoners,  and  for  the  reception  of  such  prisoners  as  may  by  law  be  confined 
therein. 

'^  In  case  any  criminal  prisoner  shall  bo  guilty  of  any  repeated  offence  against  the  rules  of  the  prison,  or 
shall  be  guilty  of  any  greater  offence  than  the  gaoler  or  keeper  is  by  4  Geo.  lY.,  c.  64,  empowered  to 
punish,  the  said  gaoler  or  keeper  shall  forthwith  report  the  same  to  the  visiting  justices,  or  one  of  them,  for 
the  time  being ;  and  any  one  such  justice,  or  any  other  justice  acUng  in  and  for  the  county,  or  riding,  or 
division  of  a  county,  or  for  the  district,  city,  town,  or  place  to  which  such  prison  belongs,  shall  have  power 
to  inquire,  upon  oath,  and  to  determine  concerning  any  such  matter  so  reported  to  him  or  them,  and  to  order 
the  offender  to  be  punished  by  close  confinement  for  any  term  not  exceeding  one  month,  or  by  personal  cor- 
rection, in  the  case  of  prisoners  convicted  of  felony,  or  sentenced  to  hsrd  labour. 

''  In  cases  of  urgent  and  absolute  necessity,  a  visiting  justice  may,  by  an  order  in  writing,  direct  any 
prisoner  to  be  kept  in  irons ;  such  order  to  specify  the  cause  thereof,  and  the  time  during  which  the 
prisoner  is  to  be  kept  in  irons,  such  time  in  no  case  to  extend  beyond  the  next  meeting  of  visiting  justices. 

'^  Every  person  who  shall  assault,  or  violently  resist  any  officer  of  a  prison  in  the  execution  of  his  duty,  or 
who  shall  aid  or  incite  any  person  so  to  assault  or  resist  any  such  officer,  shall  for  every  such  offence,  on 
conviction  thereof  by  the  oath  of  one  or  more  witnesses,  or  upon  his  or  her  own  confession,  before  two 
justices  of  the  peace,  be  liable  to  a  penalty,  not  more  than  £5,  to  be  levied,  if  not  forthwith  paid,  by 
distress  and  sale  of  the  goods  and  chattels  of  the  offender ;  or  in  the  discretion  of  the  justices  before  whom 
he  or  she  shall  be  convicted,  may  be  imprisoned,  with  or  without  hard  labour,  for  any  time  not  more  than 
one  calendar  month,  or  if  the  offender  be  already  under  sentence  of  imprisonment,  then  such  offender,  for 
every  such  offence,  shall  be  imprisoned,  with  or  without  hard  labour,  for  any  time  not  more  than  six  calendar 
months,  in  addition  to  so  much  of  the  time  for  which  he  or  she  was  originally  sentenced,  aa  may  then  be 
unexpired. 

''The  goyemor  shall  have  power  to  hear  all  complaints  touching  any  of  the  following  offences ;  that  is  to 
say,  disobedience  to  the  rules  of  the  prbon ;  common  assaults  by  one  prisoner  upon  another ;  profane  cursing 
and  swearing ;  indecent  behaviour,  or  any  irreverent  behaviour  at  chapel ;  all  of  which  are  declared  to  be 
offences,  if  committed  by  any  description  of  prisoners ;  absence  from  chapel  without  leave ;  idleness  or 
negligence  in  work,  or  wUfal  damage  or  mismanagement  of  it ;  which  are  also  declared  to  be  offences  if 
committed  by  any  prisoner  under  charge  or  conviction  of  any  crime.  He  may  examine  any  persons  touch- 
ing such  offences,  and  may  determine  thereupon;  and  may  punish  all  such  offences  by  ordering  any  offender 
to  close  confinement  in  a  refractory  or  solitary  cell,  and  by  keeping  such  offender  upon  bread  and  water  only 
for  any  term  not  exceeding  three  days ;  but  he  shall  not  determine  any  of  these  cases  without  previous 
examination ;  neither  shall  he  delegate  his  authority  in  these  matters  to  any  other  person. 

''  No  punishments  or  prirations  of  any  kind  shall  be  awarded  except  by  the  governor,  or  by  a  visiting  or 
other  justice. 

*'  He  shall  not,  under  any  pretence,  continue  close  confinement  in  any  cell  with  bread  and  water  for  prison 
offences  for  a  longer  period  than  three  days ;  but  in  the  event  of  continued  or  renewed  misconduct,  he  shall 
submit  the  case  to  a  visiting  or  other  justice,  under  the  provisions  of  the  42nd  section  of  the  Gaol  Act. 

'*  He  shall  not  put  handcuffs  or  any  other  description  of  irons  on  a  prisoner,  e:ccept  in  cases  of  absolute 
necessity ;  and  he  shall  enter  in  his  journal  full  particulars  of  every  such  case,  and  give  notice  thereof  forth- 
with to  a  visiting  justice.  He  shall  not  continue  handcuffs  or  any  other  irons  on  a  prisoner  longer  than 
twenty-four  hours  without  an  order  in  writing  from  a  visiting  justice,  epscifying  the  cause  thereof^  and  the 
time  during  which  the  prisoner  is  to  be  ironed." 


502 


THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOKDOBT. 


On  a  tafy\e  in  the  side  of  the  porter's-lodge  \re  observed  several  folio  YolnmeB  of  the 
"Prisoners'  Letter  and  Visit  Book,"  with  "Indices.'* 

The  chief  warder  stated,  that  on  the  Mends  of  the  prisoners  applying  to  visits  it  is  tlic 


VHB  roLLoynsQ  abb  the  fbescbibbd  BATB8  OP  diet:— - 

CLASS  1.                                                                      CLASS  2. 

Convicted  prisoners  confined  for  any  term  not  exceeding  seven     Convieted  prisoners  for  any  term  exceeding mtcb  dsys,siid  not 

da>*8.                                                                               exceeding  twentyone  days. 

Males. 

Females. 

Males. 

Females. 

Daily. 

lifetikfast. — 1     pint    of 
1      oatmeal  gruel. 
2>»»iwr?'.— 1  lb.  of  bread. 
Supper. — 1  pint  of  o»it- 
meaL 

I  pint  of  oatmeal  gruel, 

1  lb.  of  bread. 

1  pint  of  oatmeal  gracl. 

Daily. 

BreaJ^att.—l    pint    of 
oatmeal  gruel ;  0  oz.  of 
bread. 

J)i»«w.— 12  oz.of  bread. 

Supper. — 1  pint  of  oat- 
meal gruel;  6  os.  of 
bread. 

1  pint  of  oatmfsl|ncl; 
0  oz.  of  bresd. 

6  cs.  of  bresd. 
1  pint  of  oatmeal  gnel; 
t)  OS.  of  bread. 

CLASS  3. 

CouT'cted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  laboar  for  terms  exceed- 
ing tnenty-one  days,  bnt  not  more  than  six  weeks;  and 
conrioted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  laboar  for  terms 
not  exceeding  twenty-ooe  days,  bat  not  mora  than  four 
months. 

Prisoners  of  this  class  employed  at  hard  labonr  to  baTe,  insdd:. 
tion,  one  pint  of  soup  per  week. 

CLASS  4- 

ConTicted  prisonera  employed  at  bard  laboar  for  terms  fzeced* 
ing  six  weeks,  but  not  mora  thaa  four  months ;  aadeoo- 

Males. 

Females. 

▼icted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  labour,  Ibr  iabs 
exceeding  four  months. 

Daily. 

lireaktaKt^l    pint   of 

oatmeal  gruel;  6  os. 

of  bread. 
D\}tnev.—\  pint  of  soup ; 

H  oz.  of  brend. 
Dinner.^Z  oz.  of  cooked 

meat,  without    bone; 

8  OS.  of  bread;  ^Ib. 

of  potatoes. 

Dinner.—^  os.  of  bread ; 
1  lb.  of  potatoes. 

SHvper.^^me  fts  break* 

fo&t. 

1  pint  of  oatmeal  gruel ; 
6  OS.  of  bread. 

Males. 

Females. 

SUXDAY, 
I'HL'KSnAY. 

TlTBafPAY, 

Saxit&uay. 

MOITDAY, 

Wbdjc'sday 
Tbiday. 

Daily. 

1  nint  of  soup ;  6  os.  of 

3  oz.  of  cooked  meat, 
without  bone;  6  oz. 
of  bread ;  i  lb.  of  po- 
tatoes. 

6  OS.  of  bread ;  1  lb.  of 
of  potatoes. 

Same  as  breakfast. 

Daily. 

SUHDAY, 
TUBSDAY, 

Thubhsay, 

Satubday, 

Mokday, 

Wbdw'bday 

Fbiday, 

Daily. 

BrenJrfa9t.—\    pint    of 

oatmeal  gruel ;  8  os. 

of  brettd. 
Dinner.— 3  os.  of  cooked 

meat,  without  bone; 

\\h.  of  potatoes;  Sos. 

of  bread. 

Dtimer.—l  pint  of  soup ; 
8  OS.  of  bread. 

5f<0j»er.«— Same  as  break- 
fast. 

1  pint  of  oatmeal  gxael; 
6  OS.  of  bresd. 

S  OS.  of  cooked  BMst, 
without  boae;  \  b- 
of  potatoes ;  6  OS.  of 
brnd. 

inmtof  soop;  Sol  of 
4>read. 

Same  as  breskfMt. 

' 

CLASS  6. 

ConTicted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceed- 
ing four  months. 

CLASS  6. 

Prisoners  sentenced  by  court  to  solitary  conflaemmt 

Males. 

Males. 

Females. 

Fomales. 

1 

1 

The  ordinary  diet  of  tiieir 
respective  Classes. 

The  ordinary  diet  of  tbeir 
respective  CtSSMS. 

SrxDAY, 

TuKbDAY, 

TUUBSSAY, 

tiAIUItDAY. 

Mown AT 

Breakfa$t.—\     pint   of 

oaimcul  gruel;  8  os. 

of  bread. 
Dinner. — 4oz.  of  cooked 

meat,  \iittiout  bone; 

1  lb.  (jf  potatoes;  6  os. 

of  bread. 
Bval^aMt.—l    pint    of 

cocoa,  made  of  |  oa. 

of  flaked  cocoa  or  cO' 

eoa*nibs,     sweetened 

with  1  OS.  of  molasses 

or   sugar;    8    os.    of 

bread. 
Dinner. — 1  pint  of  soup ; 

1  lb.  of  potatoes ;  6  oz. 

of  bread. 
Supper.— \  pint  of  oat* 

meal;  Sos.  of  bread. 

1  pint  of  oatmeal  gruel; 
6  OS.  of  bread. 

3  oz.  of  cooked  meat, 
without   bone;    \  lb. 
of  potatoes;  6  os.  of 
bread. 

1  pint  of  cocoa,  made  of 
f  OS.  of  flaked  cocoa 
or  cocoa  nibs,  sweet- 
ened  with  1  oz.   of 
molasses  or  sugar;  6 
oz.  of  bread. 

1  pint  of  soup  t  \  lb.  of 
potatoes;     6    oz.    of 
bread. 

1  pint  of  oatmeal  gmd; 
tt  oz.  of  bread. 

Daily. 

CLASS  7. 

Prisoners  under  punishment  for  prison  offences,  for  tarn  bo: 

•    exceeding  three  days  s— 1  lb.  of  bread  per  dioa. 
Prisoners  in  close  confinement  for  prison  offsooes,  under  iS» 
provisions  of  the  42nd  section  of  the  Jul  Aet. 

Wbdh'sday 

t'BlDAY. 

Males. 

F^nalesL 

Daily. 

Daily. 

BreaJ^a»t.—\   pint     of 
gruel;  Sos.  of  bread. 

Dinner. — 8  os.  of  bread. 

Supper. — Ipint  of  gruel ; 
8  OS.  of  bread. 

Ipintof  grud;  6«t.<tf 

Dread. 
S  OS.  of  breed. 
Ipuktofgnial;  G01.01 

Inffredientt  <tf  Soup  ofid  Oruel.^The  sonp  to  contain,  per  pint,  8  ounces  of  cooked  meat,  withoat  boaa,  t  ooaea  of  pota- 
toes, 1  ounce  of  barley,  rice,  or  oatmeal,  and  1  ounce  of  onions  or  leeks,  with  pepper  and  salt.  The  gruel  to  oontaia  t  cnMei 
of  oatmeal  per  pint.  The  gruel  on  alternate  days  to  be  sweetened  with  |  ounoe  of  molasses  or  sugar,  and  seasoned  witk  salt. 
In  seasons  when  the  poUto  crop  has  failed,  4  ounces  of  split  peas  made  into  a  pudding  may  be  occasionally  subetitnted ;  tat 
the  change  most  not  be  made  more  than  twice  in  each  week.  Boys  under  fourteen  years  of  age  to  be  placad  on  the  seme  diet 
as  famales. 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  60S 

dnfy  of  the  porter  to  examine  the  visit  book  and  learn  if  the  visit  is  due ;  as  telatives  or 
friends  of  the  prisoners,  bv  the  regulations  of  the  establishment,  are  only  admitted  within  the 
prison  walls  at  stated  times.  If  the  visit  is  due,  notice  is  sent  to  the  governor's  clerk 
for  the  purpose  of  the  necessary  visiting  papers  being  made  out,  which  are  forwarded  to  the 
ohief  warder,  who  sends  the  prisoner  to  the  visiting  room  to  meet  with  his  friends.  These 
papers  are  returned  to  the  governor's  office  in  the  course  of  the  evening. 

On  the  prisoners'  letters  being  received,  the  porter  looks  into  the  letter-book  to  see  whether 
they  are  due,  and  should  he  find  them  so,  writes  the  word  "  due  "  on  the  cover.  If  other- 
wise, he  writes  "  not  due."  They  are  forwarded  to  the  governor's  office  for  his  examina- 
tion, or  in  his  absence,  to  tho  chief  warder,  who  officiates  as  deputy  governor,  and  are 
subsequently  sent  to  the  chaplain  or  assistant  chaplain  for  their  inspection ;  after  which  they 
are  delivered  to  the  prisoners.  This  is  done  in  the  event  of  the  letters  being  due.  "When 
'* not  due"  they  are  reserved  to  be  given  to  the  prisoner  on  a  future  occasion.  All  letters 
are  delivered  up  to  him  on  his  discharge  from  prison. 

Money  i^  occasionally  enclosed  in  letters  to  the  prisoner,  which  is  placed  to  his  account. 
Such  sums  are  sometimes  sent  to  enable  those  incarcerated  to  return  to  their  Mends.  When 
they  are  under  twenty-one  years  of  age,  their  friends  are  informed  by  circular  of  the  date 
of  the  discharge,  and  requested  to  attend  to  receive  them. 

Having  asked  the  porter  in  reference  to  the  letters  written  by  prisoners  to  their  friends, 
he  stated,  ''  I  enter  them  in  a  book,  close  them,  and  put  them  in  the  letter-box." 

The  chief  warder  caUed  our  attention  to  the  non-resident  officers'  attendance  book;  that 
is,  those  officers  who  do  not  reside  witbin  the  prison  walls.  We  found  their  names  were  all 
careftiUy  entered ;  their  time  of  coming  on  duty  as  well  as  of  leaving  duty.  In  the  event 
of  their  not  attending  at  the  proper  time  in  the  morning,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  porter  to 
report  the  same  to  the  chief  warder  for  the  information  of  tho  governor. 

On  the  mantelpiece  of  the  porter's-lodge  lies  a  Bible,  a  beautiful  symbol  of  the  character 
of  this  excellent  establishment. 

In  the  company  of  the  deputy  governor,  we  leave  the  porter's-lodge,  and  pass  through 
the  courtyard,  which  is  gravelled  and  carefully  drained.  We  enter  tbe  prison  by  a  flight  of 
steps,  where  one  of  the  long  corridors  of  the  interior  opens  to  our  view.  When  near  the 
entry  door  the  chief  warder  conducted  us  into  tlie  inner  porter's-lodge,  where  a  Crimean 
soldier,  one  of  the  light  cavalry  brigade,  who  took  a  part  in  the  daring  charge  at  Balaclava 
under  Lord  Cardigan,  officiates  as  warder.  He  is  a  strong-built  powerful  man,  in  the  primo 
of  life,  more  like  a  heavy  dragoon  than  a.  light-armed  hussar.  In  the  lodge  of  the  inner 
warder,  is  a  large  yellow  oaken  cupboard.  Here  are  contained  the  keys  of  the  prison,  all 
systematically  arranged  and  suspended  along  its  interior  during  the  night.  The  governor 
then  keeps  the  key  of  the  cupboard,  and  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  it  is  delivered  to  the 
chief  warder,  and  given  by  him  to  the  inner  porter,  when  the  keys  of  the  prison  are  distri- 
buted among  the  different  officers. 

We  noticed  a  dark  painted  tin  box  in  the  cupboard.  The  inner  porter  informed  us,  *•  It 
is  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  master  keys  belonging  to  the  governor,  surgeon,  chaplain, 
and  chief  warder." 

The  chief  warder  remarked,  with  reference  to  these  master  keys,  "  They  are  for  the 
external  doors,  cell  doors,  and  mortice  locks  of  the  offices  and  lodges." 

The  inner  vrarder,  pointing  to  a  deal  table  in  the  apartment,  stated  it  is  used  for  the 
purpose  of  the  governor  or  chief  warder  signing  the  receipts  of  prisoners  delivered  by  the 
prison  vans  for  incarceration  in  the  prison.  In  this  apartment  the  male  prisoners  are  dis- 
charged by  the  governor.  Here  they  are  ranged  before  him,  .seated  at  this  table,  before  they 
leave  the  walls  of  the  establishment. 

The  inner  porter  called  our  attention  to  a  book  kept  for  inserting  the  names  of  visitors  to 
the  prison,  along  with  their  address  and  the  name  of  the  officer  who  attends  them.    There  is 


504  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LO^'DON. 

a  colomn  for  any  observntionB  they  may  make  as  to  the  arrangements  of  the  pruon.    This 
book  generally  rests  on  another  small  table  in  a  corner  of  the  lodge. 

The  inner  lodge  is  on  onr  right  hand  as  we  enter  the  prison.  Alongside  of  it  is  tke 
clerk's  room,  and  on  our  left  is  the  prisoners'  Mends'  waiting  room,  and  the  apartment  occupied 
by  the  assistant  chaplain. 

As  we  proceed  into  the  interior  beyond  these  offices,  the  passage  widens.  It  is  paTcd 
with  York  slab,  and  the  roof  is  arched  and  supported  with  iron  girders  and  metal  pillars. 
There  is  an  entry  from  the  passage  on  each  side — one  leading  to  the  courtyard  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  female  prison  on  our  left,  and  tho  other  on  the  right,  conducting  us  to  the  dead- 
bouse  and  offtcers'  water-closet. 

Further  along,  we  come  to  the  governor's  office  and  the  office  of  his  clerk,  the  yiatiiig 
justices'  committee-room,  a  waiting-room  for  the  prisoners'  friends,  and  a  water-closet. 

We  pasa  through  a  wooden  door,  iron  grated  and  glazed,  in  the  upper  part,  which  is 
generally  kept  locked.  The  circular  range  of  apartments,  last  referred  to,  leads  to  a  con- 
tinuation of  the  passage  about  the  same  width  as  the  other  corridors. 

On  each  side,  is  a  room  for  the  prisoners  receiving  the  visits  of  their  friends,  about  the 
size  of  two  cells.  A  portion  of  the  interior  is  enclosed  within  strong  iron  bars  like  the 
cage  of  a  menagerie,  having  a  small  gate  to  admit  the  prisoner,  which  is  kept  locked. 

On  tho  opposite  side  of  the  apartment  is  a  corresponding  space  for  the  friends,  fenced  with 
similar  iron  bars,  where  they  enter  by  a  door  from  the  passage.  An  officer  of  the  piisoa 
remains  in  the  intervening  space  between  these  strong  iron  gratings  during  their  interrieWi 
to  prevent  any  improper  communication  passing  between  them.  The  roof  is  arched  as  in  the 
other  prison  cells.  The  walls  of  tho  visiting  rooms  are  painted  of  a  yellow  stone  colour 
tastefully  pencilled,  and  the  flooring  is  of  Dutch  tile. 

There  is  a  largo  room  on  the  left-hand  side  of  the  passage  leading  to  the  central  hall,  used 
for  the  purpose  of  assorting  clean  linen  when  received  from  the  laundry.  It  is  roofed  and 
paved  in  a  similar  manner  to  the  prisoners'  visiting-room,  and  has  a  flreplace  and  three  glazed 
windows,  the  partitions  between  the  panes — as  in  the  cells — being  made  of  iron. 

We  now  come  into  the  wide  central  hall,  which  is  lofty  and  well  lighted  from  the  roof 
where  we  have  a  magnificent  picture,  in  the  fine,  lofty,  far-extending  corridors  radiating 
around  us,  the  passage  along  which  we  passed  forming,  as  it  were,  a  sixth  corridor  to  com- 
plete the  unity  of  the  circular  wings.  Here  we  found  several  of  the  officers  of  the  prison  in 
their  uniforms  lingering  in  the  hall,  engaged  in  their  various  duties,  or  actively  flitting  along 
fix>m  corridor  to  corridor  and  from  apartment  to  apartment.  Several  of  the  prisoners,  with 
masks,  in  their  dark  gray  prison  dress,  consisting  of  jacket,  vest,  and  trousers,  and  dark  cap,  arc 
engaged  in  cleaning  the  corridors.  They  have  a  curious  and  sinister  appearance  as  they  look 
at  us  with  hasty  stolen  glance  through  the  eyelet  openings  of  their  mask,  which  screen  their 
features,  as  at  Pentonville.  As  we  stood  in  the  central  hall,  with  the  deputy-governor  by  oar 
side,  we  saw  a  file  of  prisoners,  in  their  prison  attire  and  masks,  pass  along  to  the  chapd 
from  the  galleries  in  the  corridors.  Some  of  them  were  young  boys,  who  tripped  along  with 
an  active,  light  tread,  their  hands  crossed  behind  their  backs ;  others  were  young  lads  of 
17,  with  vigorous,  active  step;  while  others  were  more  advanced  in  life.  Some  were  thin 
and  lank;  while  one  or  two  were  of  corpulent  appearance.  They  walked  along  with  mea- 
sured step,  generally  with  their  head  stooping  and  hands  crossed  behind,  several  feet  distant 
from  each  other,  under  the  supervision  of  two  or  three  warders.  In  the  centre  of  this  large 
prison  the  air  was  as  clear  and  salubrious  as  in  tho  meadows  around  the  prison  walls ;  tbe 
well-lighted  cheerful-looking  corridors  were  admirably  clean ;  and  everything  around  us  in 
this  prison,  conducted  on  the  separate  system,  wore  a  cheerful  and  business-like  aspect. 

In  the  centre  of  this  spacious  hall  is  a  large  stone  of  about  nine  feet  in  diameter,  cut  in 
the  form  of  a  hexagon.  It  is  surrounded  by  a  strong  perforated  iron  flooring  about  six  feet 
in  width,  giving  light  and  ventilation  to  the  storerooms  below.     The  lofty  and  ample  roof 


HOUSE  OF  CORBECTION,  WAJTD8W0RTH. 


505 


rises  in  a  dome  of  the  form  of  a  hexagon,  sapported  by  strong  iron  girders,  and  lighted  by  sash 
Trindows  along  the  side. 

Each  corridor  has  long  ranges  of  cells  along  the  two  light  and  elegant  galleries,  in  addition 
to  the  cells  on  the  area  beneath,  level  vith  the  central  hall ;  and  are  lighted  at  the  extre- 
mities by  large  windows  like  those  of  a  cathedral,  nearly  equal  in  dimensions  to  the  length 
and  breadth  of  the  end  of  the  corridor. 

The  following  are  the  number  of  cells  in  each  corridor,  and  the  number  of  prisoners  in 
them  at  the  time  of  our  visit : — 


COKKTDOBS. 

A.  1 

Ooci 

Cells. 
48 

ipied  at  the  time 
of  our  visit  by 
46 

D.   3 

• 

Cells. 
48 

Occupied  at  the  time 
of  our  visit  by 
5 

2 

48 

47 

E.  1 

• 

38 

38 

3 

47 

44 

2 

• 

39 

37 

B.  1 

47 

45 

3 

• 

38 

37 

2 

48 

50 

3 

48 

47 

527 

C.   1 

m 

2 

65 

67 

40 

In  itfirmary . 
„  itch  ward 

• 
• 

7 

4 

3 
D.  1 

67 
45 

46 

,»  rec 

;eption  ward 

.       16 

2 

48 

45 

InaU 

• 

.     554 

Tho  corridors  are  respectively  named  A,  B,  C,  D,  and  E.     The  basement  cells  are  termed 
Iso.  1,  the  first  gallery  No.  2,  and  the  second  gallery  No.  3. 

The  infirmary  is  situated  in  the  E  wing  ward,  the  itch  ward  in  the  basement  of  E,  and 
the  reception  cells  are  in  the  area  below  the  central  hall,  where  the  stores  are  kept. 

These  five  wings  and  the  apartments  and  offices  connected  therewith  are  the  Male  prison. 
The  Female  prison  is  a  smaller  compact  building,  of  three  wings  radiating  around  a  centre, 
and  is  situated  on  our  left  hand  as  we  enter  the  prison.  Since  the  time  when  the  descrip- 
tion of  "Wandsworth  Prison  appeared  in  an  earlier  portion  of  this  work,  about  four 
years  ago,  a  new  wing  has  been  erected  in  a  line  with  the  passage  leading  into  the 
main  prison,  and  another  wing  has  been  built  to  the  female  prison,  both  of  which  were 
embraced  in  the  original  plan  of  the  buildings,  and  give  unity  and  completeness  to  the 
male  and  female  branches ;  so  that  it  is  now,  in  an  architectural  point  of  view,  so  far 
as  regards  the  completeness  of  its  arrangements,  one  of  the  best  correctional  prisons,  if 
not  the  best,  in  the  United  Kingdom. 

As  we  enter  the  central  hall  by  the  passage  from  the  entry  gate,  we  see  on  the  left-hand 
side  a  bell  handle,  which  communicates  with  the  governor's  house.  Alongside  are  two  other 
bells — one  communicating  with  the  reception  ward,  and  the  other  with  the  female  prison. 

In  a  portion  of  the  wall  between  the  entrance  passage  and  corridor  A  there  is  a  square 
cavity  extending  from  the  lowest  range  of  cells  to  the  top  of  the  corridor,  where  there  is 
machinery  to  hoist  the  provisions  from  the  kitchen  in  the  area  below  to  the  various  cells 
above. 

Before  leaving  the  central  hall  we  remarked  there  were  two  galleries  around  it  commu- 
nicating with  the  different  corridors,  A,  B,  C,  J),  and  E,  and  also  with  the  chapel,  which  is 
above  the  entrance-passage.  There  is  a  staircase  on  each  side  of  the  corridors  leading  to  the 
different  galleries — one  between  A  and  £,  an^  another  between  D  and  E.  There  is  also  a 
staircase  in  the  C  wing,  communicating  with  the  galleries  above  and  the  chapel. 

%*  Eeeeption  Cells, — On  entering  the  prison  opposite  to  the  lodge  of  the  inner  porter  is  a 


506  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LO:S'DON. 

stair  leading  down  to  the  reception  ward  in  the  area  below.  There  are  16  reception  cells, 
all  of  uniform  dimensions.     On  measuring  one  of  them  we  found  it  at  top  of  the  arched  roof 

9  feet  high,  and  at  bottom  of  arch  8  feet  6  inches,  and  to  be  5  feet  2  inches  wide  and  15  feet 

10  inches  in  length.  Each  of  those  cells  has  an  iron-grated  window  covered  with  glass,  2 
feet  4  inches  long  and  2  feet  8  inches  wide.  In  each  window  there  are  three  yentilatiBg 
panes.  Over  the  door  of  the  reception  cells  there  is  an  opening  for  ventilation,  and  raider- 
neath  the  flooring  there  is  another  air  passage. 

Here  the  chief  warder  referred  us  to  the  engineer  of  the  establishment  for  a  fuller  expla- 
nation of  the  sanatory  arrangements  of  these  cells.  The  engineer  stated — '*  The  chief 
warder  showed  you  the  air-flue  in  the  outside  of  the  prison.  This  air-flue  communicates 
with  an  apparatus  for  heating  the  air.  The  air  is  heated  by  means  of  hot  water  in  pipes 
passing  through  the  building,  and  is  distributed  from  a  patented  apparatus  by  *  Haden '  over 
the  passage,  from  whence  it  passes  into  the  cells  through  apertures  above  the  doors." 

The  chief  warder  having  directed  the  attention  of  the  engineer  to  the  extraction  of 
the  confined  air,  the  latter  explained — "  The  air  passes  into  the  extraction  flue,  of  which 
there  is  one  in  every  cell,  connected  with  a  trunk  shaft  on  the  top  of  the  building." 

In  each  reception  cell  there  is  a  stone-coloured  night  utensil,  the  top  of  which  is  covered 
with  a  wooden  lid,  and  serves  the  prisoner  as  a  seat ;  and  a  metal  water  box  painted  blftct 
fixed  into  the  comer  of  the  wall,  along  with  a  copper  wash-basin  beneath  it,  as  shoifa  iathe 
engraving.  The  cell  is  whitewashed,  tidy,  and  comfortable  in  appearance.  The  door  has  a 
circular  inspection-plate,  through  which  the  officers  of  the  prison  are  able  to  obsenrcthe 
movements  of  the  prisoner  from  the  passage,  without  entering  the  cell ;  and  under  this 
inspection-plate  is  a  trap  10  inches  long  by  11  inches  broad,  for  the  purpose  of  conveying  the 
food  and  utensils  to  and  from  the  cell.  The  flooring  is  of  asphalte.  On  the  outside  of  the 
cell  door  is  a  small  metal  plate,  with  the  number  of  the  cell  painted  on  it.  On  the  prisoner's 
ringing  the  bell  this  plate  is  thrown  out,  and  does  not  return  till  put  back  by  the  officer. 

"We  then  passed  into  the  receiving  room,  and  were  introduced  to  the  reception  warder. 
This  apartment  is  21  feet  square,  and  is  fitted  round  with  wooden  shelves,  for  tiie  purpose  of 
keeping  the  prison  <dothing  to  be  given  to  the  criminal  while*  undergoing  his  sentence.  UTe 
noticed  a  large  deal  desk  in  the  room,  for  taking  down  the  prisoner's  description.  This  is 
invariably  done  on  his  entering  the  reception  ward.  Within  the  desk  are  contained  articles 
£rom  the  pockets  of  the  prisoners,  kept  here  for  safe  custody,  and  carefully  returned  to  them 
on  their  discharge,  consisting  of  tobacco  boxes,  pocket  knives,  pocket  books,  purses,  watches^ 
pawn  tickets,  breast  pins,  &c.,  &c. 

The  warder  brought  forward  the  ''prisoners'  property  book,"  in  which  all  these  articles 
are  carefully  registered. 

He  also  showed  us  the  blank  duplicates  to  be  filled  up  on  the  prisoner's  admissiQii,  tilt- 
ing on  his  age,  education,  religion,  trade,  place  of  birth,  residence,  whether  he  has  parents  or 
not,  single  or  married,  &c. ;  also  giving  his  personal  description,  together  with  an  inveotory 
of  his  clothing  and  other  personal  property. 

*«*  Prisaner^a  Oum  Clothing  Boom, — ^This  apartment  is  alongside  of  the  receiving  room, 
and  is  about  20  feet  long  and  18  feet  broad.  The  walls  around  are  lined  with  wooden  racks, 
on  which  bundles  of  the  prisoners'  clothing  are  deposited.  There  are  other  two  oblong  racks 
in  the  centre  of  the  apartment,  which  also  contains  a  charcoal  stove.  It  has  three 
windows,  3  feet  2  inches  long  and  2  feet  2  inches  wide,  two  of  them  provided  with  flaps  for 
ventilation.  In  the  centre  of  this  room  there  is  a  gas  bracket,  and  over  the  door  is  a  venti- 
lating aperture  with  a  light  iron  screen  on  the  inner  side.  This  apartment  is  about  the  same 
height  as  the  reception  cells. 

As  we  looked  around  us  on  the  bundles  of  tattered  and  half- worn  clothing  of  Tarioushues 
and  textures,  we  could  almost  fancy  we  were  in  a  broker's  shop  or  dd  clothes  store  in  Bosemary 


PKISOSEfi'3  MATTRAS3,  WANDSWOKTH. 


CELL  INDICATOB,  ■VTASDSWOKTH. 


608  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

Lane ;  only,  the  storeroom  before  us  was  more  salubrious,  and  the  material  around  more 
carefully  arranged.  In  some  bundles  we  could  detect  the  red  coat  of  an  unfortunate  soldier 
who  had  been  guilty  of  some  theft  or  assault ;  in  another  we  saw  the  good  dark  coat  and 
light  fancy  vest  of  a  civilian,  who  had  possibly  lived  a  '*  fast "  life  beyond  his  income,  and 
was  now  incarcerated  in  the  prison  for  embezzlement  of  his  employer's  property.  There 
was  the  rough  working  dress  of  a  day  labourer,  which  we  coidd  trace  from  the  heavy  hob- 
nailed shoea  and  blue  smock  frock;  and  on  another  rack  we  observed  the  tattered  clothes  of 
a  wretched  vagrant. 

The  chief  warder,  our  most  intelligent  guide,  remarked — "  You  will  observe,  aar,  the 
bundles  are  all  numbered  and  arranged  numerically." 

The  reception  warder,  pointing  to  bundle  63,  observed — *^  These  belong  to  an  Italian 
who  states  he  is  an  interpreter.  He  is  an  educated  man,  and  of  better  class  than  the  gene- 
rality of  the  prisoners.  The  bundle  consists  of  a  good  black  surtout  coat,  a  light  fancy 
vest,  a  clean  white  ironed  shirt,  and  a  pair  of  drab  trousers  in  good  condition.  He  is  middle- 
aged,  rather  good  looking,  and  of  middle  stature,  and  is  imprisoned  here  for  being  guilty  of 
indecent  conduct. 

'^  This  other  bundle,"  said  the  reception  warder,  *'  belongs  to  a  cripple  with  a 
wooden  leg,  a  tailor  by  trade,  and  of  middle  age.  He  was  charged  with  wilful  damage 
to  a  pane  of  glass,  and  has  been  sentenced  to  twenty-one  days'  imprisonment*'  The 
bundle,  on  being  opened,  contained  a  light  jean  coat,  a  shepherd's  plaid  vest,  invisible 
green  trousers,  with  a  dark  braid  stripe  along  the  side,  a  clean  white  shirt,  and  dark 
silk  neck-tie. 

"  No.  695,"  the  oflScial  continued,  ''belongs  to  a  prisoner  brought  here  for  wilful  damnge 
to  a  pane  of  glass.  He  is  a  very  strange  little  man,  a  dwarf,  of  4  feet  5  inches  high,  and 
about  thirty-five  years  of  age."  The  chief  warder  here  stated—**  He  has  been  very  fre- 
quently in  this  and  other  prisons  connected  with  the  metropolis."  On  opening  the  bundle 
the  clothes  appeared  to  be  a  tissue  of  rags,  unfit  to  be  worn  by  any  human  being,  and  could 
scarcely  cover  the  nakedness  of  the  wretched  little  man.  "  You  will  observe,"  said  the 
chief  warder,  "  his  clothes  are  of  the  very  worst  description,  all  hanging  in  rags  and  tatters. 
He  has  no  hat,  and  his  shoes  are  without  soles." 

"  Bundle  615,"  said  the  reception  warder,  *'  belongs  to  a  deaf  and  dumb  man,  who  is 
middle-aged.  Has  been  sentenced  to  prison  for  seven  days,  under  the  vagrant  act.  The 
clothes  consist  of  corduroy  trousers,  light-brown  coat,  and  wide-awake  hat.  All  of  them/* 
said  the  chief  warder,  "  are  in  a  filthy  and  disgusting  condition." 

%*  Rec^tion  Store  Eoom. — Leaving  the  apartment  in  which  the  prisoners'  own  clothing 
is  deposited,  we  again  returned  to  the  reception  room,  where,  as  we  have  said,  a  supply  of  the 
prison  dress  is  kept.  Along  the  wooden  shelves  around  the  room  are  piles  of  apparently 
new  clothing  for  ^e  criminals,  of  the  usual  dark  gray  colour.  There  we  saw  large  quantities 
of  jackets,  vests,  trousers,  and  caps  with  masks.  We  also  found  stores  of  blue  striped  cotton 
shirts,  flannels,  and  drawers,  blue  worsted  stockings  with  white  rings,  and  shoes. 

The  warder  informed  us — '*  This  is  a  small  stock  kept  in  hand  to  furnish  the  prisonen 
on  being  admitted  to  the  prison.  You  will  remark,"  he  added,  '*  the  clothing  is  arranged  on 
the  shelves  according  to  the  various  sizes,  and  numbered  1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  and  6,  and  that  the 
articles  are  all  marked  with  the  prison  type.  The  shoes,"  he  stated,  '*  are  strong,  and  art* 
made  by  the  prisoners.     The  clothes  are  made  by  them  also." 

On  a  large  table  in  the  reception  room  is  displayed  an  assortment  of  braces,  shoes, 
stocks,  register  numbers,  class  numbers,  and  caps.  There  are  scales  and  wei^ts  for 
weighing  the  prisoners  when  they  enter  and  leave  the  prison,  with  a  standard  measure  ioi 
ascertaining  their  height.  This  room  has  two  windows  of  the  same  description  as  in  the 
prisoners'  own  clothing  store,  with  a  fiap,  for  ventilation  in  one  of  them. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  503 

We  proceeded  to  the  Bath  Rotm  attached  to  the  reception  cells.  Here  are  four  slate 
baths.  The  bath  cells  are  11  feet  8  inches  long  and  4  feet  wide,  containing  slate  baths  6 
feet  long,  2  feet  1  inch  wide,  and  2  feet  1  inch  deep.  They  are  supplied  with  hot  and  cold 
water  by  means  of  pipes,  and  have  a  waste  pipe  communicating  with  the  main  drain.  These 
bath  cells  are  floored  with  asphalte. 

The  passage  between  the  reception  cells  is  floored  with  Dutch  tile. 

Before  leaving  the  reception  ward  we  visited  the  apartment  where  the  prisoners'  clothing 
is  fumigated  and  cleansed  &om  vermin  and  offensive  smell.  It  is  about  16  feet  long,  10  feet 
wide,  and  9  feet  high,  and  has  a  window  with  a  flap  for  ventilation.  There  is  a  large  iron 
furnace  here,  with  a  great  oven,  provided  with  iron  racks  to  contain  bundles  in  the  interior, 
which  are  exposed  to  the  action  of  tbe  heat  and  the  fiimes  of  brimstone.  On  a  large  shelf 
in  the  room  we  saw  piled  a  considerable  number  of  bundles  of  prisoners*  clothing  which  had 
been  cleansed.  ''"We  keep  them  in,"  said  the  reception  warder,  "for  twelve  or  fourteen 
hours,  when  they  are  taken  to  the  prisoners'  own  clothing  room,  where  they  are  laid,  in 
bundles  systematically  arranged,  on  the  shelves  in  the  manner  already  described." 

The  reception  ward  is  situated  under  the  long  passage  entering  into  the  interior  of  the 
prison. 

%*  Cells, — Leaving  the  basement  of  the  prison  for  the  present,  we  returned  to  the 
corridors  to  inspect  the  cells.  There  are  no  dormitories  and  no  associated  rooms  here,  as  in 
several  of  the  other  metropolitan  prisons.  The  prisoners  are  all  conflned  in  separate 
cells.  On  proceeding  with  the  chief  warder  into  a  cell  in  one  of  the  corridors,  we  found  its 
dimensions  to  be  13  feet  long,  by  7  feet  wide,  and  9  feet  high.  In  si^e  and  arrangements  it 
is  exactly  similar  to  the  others  along  the  various  corridors,  and  is  very  nearly  as  large  as  the 
model  cells  at  Pentonville,  also  on  the  separate  system,  the  latter  being  13^  feet  long  by  7^ 
feet  broad,  and  9  feet  high. 

The  furniture  consists  of  a  small  deal  table,  an  earthenware  night-utensil  or  water-closet, 
covered  with  a  wooden  lid,  which  serves,  as  we  have  already  said,  as  a  seat  to  the  prisoner, 
and  a  small  metal  water  box  fitted  into  one  of  tbe  comers  of  the  cell.  *^  By  a  water  box,'' 
said  the  chief  warder,  "  I  do  not  mean  that  it  contains  water,  but  is  a  shield  for  the  water- 
tap,  to  prevent  the  prisoners  tampering  with  it."  The  water  pipe  communicates  with  the 
night  utensil  and  washing  bowl,  There  is  a  gas  jet  in  each  cell.  In  a  corner  beside  tbe 
door  there  are  three  small  sbelves.  On  the  upper  one  generally  rests  the  bedding,  rolled 
up  like  a  lady's  muff,  as  seen  in  the  engraving.  On  the  other  shelves  are  a  tin  plate,  a 
shining  tin  pannikin,  a  wooden  spoon,  a  wooden  salt  cellar,  two  combs,  a  brush,  and  soap 
box,  with  a  Bible  and  prayer  book,  and  one  or  more  library  books.  The  bedding  consists  of 
a  canvas  bammock,  a  coverlet,  two  blankets,  and  one  pair  of  sheets.  There  are  two  iron 
hooks  on  each  side  of  the  cell,  on  which  the  hammock  is  suspended.  The  bed  clothes  are  all 
marked  with  the  prison  mark. 

A  copy  of  the  rules  of  the  prison  is  suspended  on  the  wall,  and  a  list  of  the  dietary  pre- 
scribed to  prisoners  by  tbe  order  of  Government.  We  also  see  suspended  a  card  containing 
the  prisoner's  name,  offence,  sentence,  date  of  admission,  expiration  of  sentence,  his  trade, 
and  previous  committals  (if  any). 

In  each  cell  is  a  bell-handle,  by  which  the  prisoner  is  able  to  communicate  his  wants  to 
the  officer.  This  bell-handle  communicates  with  the  metal  plate  outside  the  wall  of  the  cell 
in  the  passage,  on  which  is  printed  the  number  of  the  cell. 

There  is  an  inspection  opening  in  the  door  of  the  cell,  covered  with  glass  and  protected 
with  a  light  wire  screen,  and  also  an  aperture  for  receiving  the  food,  &c.,  as  in  the  reception 
oeUs. 

Here  we  took  particular  notice  of  the  dress  worn  by  the  prisoners.  The  dothing  in  this 
cocrectional  prison  consists  of  a  dark-gray  jacket,  vesty  and  trousers^  a  blue  striped  cotton 


610  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LONDOX. 

Bbirt,  a  pair  of  worsted  stockings,  a  pair  of  ahoes^  a  stock  mado  of  the  same  materials  as  the 
jacket,  a  pocket  handkerchief^  flannel  shirt  and  drawers,  and  a  gray  cap  of  the  same  descrip- 
tion as  the  dothesy  with  a  mask  covering  the  face,  having  eyelefc*holes.  A  piece  of  alpaca  ifl 
inserted  over  the  month  for  freer  respiration.  At  first  the  mask  was  made  of  the  same 
materials  as  the  cap. 

On  the  left  arm  of  the  jacket  is  the  register  number,  i,  «.,  the  number  the  prisoner  bears 
on  the  register  book.  The  white  number  in  the  jacket  shown  us  is  **  2820."  *^  This," 
said  the  chief  warder,  '^  is  the  number  of  his  register  when  admitted  into  the  prison.'* 

<' Every  second  year  the  registered  number  commences  afresh.  The  '  5  '  placed  abore 
this  number  on  the  same  arm  indicates  the  class  diet  the  prisoner  is  entitled  to,  which  is 
seen  by  referring  to  the  prison  dietary.  Upon  the  back  of  the  dark-gray  jacket  is  painted  in 
white  letters  two  inches  long  H.C.W.S.,  «.  «.,  House  of  Correction,.  Wandsworth,  Surrey." 

On  the  left  breast  is  a  brass  hook,  with  coU  number  also  painted  in  white,  refening  to 
corridor,  division,  and.  number  of  the  cell. 

Here  we  asked  the  chief  warder  to  explain  to  us  in  a  few  words  the  preliminary 
process  before  the  criminal  is  brought  to  the  cell. 

He  continued : — "  When  a  prisoner  is  brought  to  the  prison  by  warrant  of  commitment 
signed  by  one  or  more  of  the  magistrates  belonging  to  the  county  of  Surrey,  or  by  an 
order  ftom  Sessions  or  the  Central  Criminal  Court,  he  is  taken  to  the  reception  word,  un- 
dressed, and  a  warm  bath  given  him.  He  is  then  equipped  in  prison  dress,  and  brought 
up  into  the  interior  of  the  prison  for  the  night.  In  the  morning  he  is  examined  by  the 
surgeon,  who  pronounces  him  fit  or  otherwise  for  hard  labour.  The  prisoners  not  sen- 
tenced to  hard  labour  are  also  examined  by  the  surgeon  at  the  same  time.  The  roles 
of  the  prison  are  read  over  to  them,  after  which  they  are  sent,  with  their  cards,  by  the 
chief  warder  to  their  respective  cells.  We  insert  a  copy  of  one  of  those  cards  which, 
as  we  have  said,  is  suspended  on  the  waUs  of  the  cell: — "Be^istered  No.  4781.  Name, 
J.  F.  Religion  (in  red  ink),  Eoman  Catholic.  Age,  42.  Trade,  a  labourer.  Previoas 
committals,  2,  Wandsworth.  Offence,  misdemeanour,  unlawful  possession  of  a  pair  of 
boots.  Sentence,  two  calendar  months*  hard  labour.  By  whom  committed,  B.  C,  Esq. 
Eeceived  27th  June,  1861.     Expiration  of  sentence,  26th  August." 

On  the  back  of  this  same  card  is  written  as  follows : — ^"  E,  1-38,  June  28,  unfit  at  pre- 
sent.    E,  1-8,  2nd  August,  10,000.     Infirmary,  August  6.     E,  1-38,  August  23." 

^' From  this  card  you  will  see,"  said  the  chief  warder,  ^  that  the  prisoner  was  examined 
by  the  surgeon  on  the  28th  of  June  last,  and  pronounced  '  unfit  at  present.'  He  was  after- 
wards examined  by  the  surgeon  on  2nd  August,  and  considered  fit  to  perform  10,000  revo- 
lutions. On  6th  August  he  was  taken  to  the  infirmary,  and  discharged  from  thence  on  the 
23Td,  and  finally  liberated  from  prison  on  tho  26th  August,  on  the  expiry  of  his  sentence.*' 

%*  Oakum  Picking, — In  company  with  the  chief  warder  we  visited  several  of  the  ccDs 
where  the  prisoners  were  engaged  picking  oakum.  This  process  has  been  fully  and  repeatedly 
described  in  earlier  portions  of  this  work. 

A  great  number  of  the  prisoners  of  different  ages  were  thus  occupied,  some  oi  them 
taking  it  easy,  others  labouring  with  energy  to  finish  their  allotted  task. 

%*  Ifat-maJcing, — Passing  along  the  various  corridors,  we  inspected  several  of  the  cells 
in  corridor  C,  where  the  prisoners  were  engaged  at  mat-making.  The  chief  warder  informed 
us  twenty-eight  persons  were  busy  at  this  occupation.  We  were  introduced  to  the  trade 
instructor,  who  showed  us  over  his  ward  and  gave  us  the  necessary  explanations.  The  mat 
frame,  as  shown  in  the  engraving,  consists  of  two  strong  upright  beams  fixed  under,  the 
arched  cell  by  wooden  wedges,  with  a  heavy  cross-beam  slung  by  two  short  ropes  to  the  beams. 
A  cross-bar  at  the  bottom  of  the  frame  is  fastened  down  witli  ropes  to  pull  the  warp  tight,  so 


HOT78E  OF  COBRECTION,  WANBSWOBTH.  512 

■ 

88  to  make  the  mats  properly.  Aboye  the  lower  cross-beam  a  fiat  moveable  board  8  iziches  wide, 
and  5  feet  long,  and  1  inch  thick,  is  inserted,  with  a  narrow  stick  above  about  4^  feet  long, 
to  reverse  the  warp.  Sometimes  they  are  longer  when  the  mat  requires  it.  There  is  also 
another  stick  projected  backward  and  forward  by  the  hand.  A  common  shoemaker's  knife 
is  used  to  trim  the  mat  in  the  course  of  manufacture.  There  is  also  a  beater  with  five  blimt 
iron  teeth  and  a  short  handle,  for  the  purpose  of  binding  the  fabric  properly  together. 

These  are  the  implements  for  making  a  common  diamond  coooa-nut  fibred  mat.  Each 
mat-maker  is  furnished  with  a  yard  measure  for  taking  its  dimensions.  The  mats  are 
nmde  of  cocoa-nut  fibre  spun  into  yam,  and  the  workman  in  weaving  stands  in  front 
of  his  work. 

There  are  other  mats  made  of  cocoa-nut  fibre  yam  plaited,  having  as  many  as  twenty 
strands  in  the  plait.  After  being  plaited  by  some  of  the  prisoners,  it  is  given  to  others 
to  be  made  into  sennit  mats. 

'We  went  to  another  cell,  where  we  were  shown  a  sennit  mat.  In  the  eourse  of 
being  made  it  is  fixed  on  a  board  with  four  iron  pins,  and  worked  with  a  sailor's  palm, 
needle,  and  pincers,  a  shoemaker's  knife,  and  a  hammer. 

In  another  cell  we  were  shown  the  binding  of  the  mats.  On  coming  from  the  frame 
they  are  brought  to  a  prisoner,  who  binds  them  with  a  needle,  palm,  and  pincers.  The  deputy- 
governor  informed  us  that  on  the  day  of  our  visit  six  prisoners  were  plaiting  sennit  for 

mats. 

We  visited  a  different  cell,  and  saw  the  mats  finished  by  being  trimmed  with  a  pair  of 
large  garden  shears,  after  which  they  are  ready  for  sale. 

Before  leaving  the  ward  for  mat-making,  we  looked  into  several  other  cells,  to  see  the 
prisoners  engaged  at  their  work. 

In  one  we  saw  a  boy  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age  plaiting  coir  yam  and  cutting 
the  strands  with  a  shoemaker's  knife.  His  mask  was  up.  He  had  an  interesting  good- 
looking  countenance,  and  in  his  solitary  cell  appeared  to  be  comfortable  and  cheerful. 

In  another  cell  wo  found  an  elderly  middle-aged  and  quiet-looking  man  similarly  engaged. 
His  head  was  bent  down  at  his  work  as  he  busily  proceeded  with  his  toil.  The  cell  was  well 
lighted,  and  the  bright  sunbeams  shone  cheerfully  on  his  deal  table. 

'  In  another  cell  we  saw  a  young  man  of  about  twenty-six  years  of  age  busy  at  mat-making 
in  the  frame.  He  appeared  to  belong  to  the  lower  orders,  from  his  countenance  and  manner. 
The  sun  shone  on  the  frame  and  mat,  and  he  was  active  and  business-like. 

In  a  different  cell  we  saw  another  young  man,  about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  engaged  in 
a  like  occupation.  He  stood  by  the  mat  frame  with  his  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up  and  his  arms 
bare.  His  white  braces  were  tied  in  front  of  his  dark-gray  prison  trousers.  Like  the  other 
prisoners,  his  mask  was  laid  aside  in  his  cell.  He  had  a  white  band  tied  round  his  dark-gray 
cap.     When  we  left  he  was  hammering  at  the  mat  with  the  iroa-headed  beater. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  lad  of  about  seventeen,  pale-faced  and  good-looking,  sitting 
before  his  frame  on  a  board  laid  across  the  small  table,  which  was  turned  up.  He  was  putting 
the  yam  into  the  frame,  and  cutting  it  to  the  proper  length. 

In  another  cell  the  trade  instructor  stood  beside  a  prisoner,  a  boy  of  fifteen,  taking  the 
dimensions  of  one  of  the  mats  suspended  on  the  frame.  The  lad  had  a  dark  striog 
tied  round  his  forehead,  to  bind  up  his  straggling  bcks.  The  chief  warder  observed — *'  that 
in  this  prison  the  hair  is  not  cut  except  for  the  purpose  of  cleanliness." 

Having  finished  our  inspection  of  the  mat-making  ward,  we  passed  with  the  chief  warder 
by  the  large  window  in  one  of  the  galleries  in  corridor  C,  where  a  beautiful  and  extensive 
prospect  stretched  around  us,  beaming  under  the  smile  of  an  unclouded  sky.  We  looked 
around  on  a  fair  spreadiog  vale,  finely  embroidered  with  hedgerows  and  trees,  and  dotted 
with  straggling  cottages,  hamlets,  and  villas ,  while  beyond  rose  the  graceful  range  of  the 
Surrey  hills  in  the  neighbourhood,  crowned  with  woqds  waving   in  luxuriant   foliage. 


612  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDOX 

The  landscape  was  beginning  to  assume  the  fading  hues  of  autumn.      We  saw  the  train 
sweeping  along  the  lovely  vale,  with  its  wreath  of  steam  and  smoke. 

♦<^*  Shoemahng, — ^We  also  visited  the  shoemakers*  ward,  and  were  introduced  to  the 
trade  instructor.  He  told  us — "  "We  have  twelve  shoemakers  at  work,  mostly  young 
men.  Three  of  them  are  experienced  tradesmen ;  the  others  are  employed  as  cobblers 
mending  the  prisoners*  shoes.  The  chief  warder  informed  us  that  all  the  prison  shoes 
are  made  and  repaired  by  felons  in  the  establishment. 

Two  prisoners  were  then  engaged  in  making  harness,  who  were  said  by  the  trade 
instructor  to  be  good  workmen.  They  are  making  a  set  of  new  chaise  harness,  with 
German-silver  fittings,  "  We  can  show  you,"  continued  the  trade  instructor,  **  some  fine 
specimens  of  shoemaking,  both  in  the  closing  and  making  departments."  Taking  up  a  pair 
of  shoes,  he  said —  "  There  is  a  pair  of  fancy  shoes  made  by  a  prisoner  that  Tvas  liberated 
a  few  days  ago,  who  was  with  us  for  nine  months.  And  here,"  he  added,  *'is  a 
pair  of  gentlemen's  boots,  with  side  springs.  The  closing  and  making,  in  regard  to  work- 
manship, are  fit  for  the  best  shop  in  London." 

*^*  Chapel, — ^Meantime  the  beU  rang  for  chapel  service,  which  required  the  attend- 
ance  of  the  chief  warder.  We  left  the  corridor  where  we  were  inspecting  the  cells,  and 
followed  the  files  of  masked  prisoners  into  the  chapel,  a  cheerful-looking  commodious 
building,  situated  above  the  long  passage  leading  into  the  prison.  It  is  capable  of  con- 
tainiDg  422  prisoners  in  separate  stalls,  389  of  which  are  enclosed.  There  were  12  open 
stalls  in  the  firont  seat  facing  us  as  we  sat  alongside  the  pulpit.  When  the  stalb  arc 
fall  12  other  prisoners  can  be  accommodated  on  the  staircases  in  the  centre  and  sides 
of  the  gallery.  The  engraving  of  the  chapel  presented  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  work  only 
gives  onc-half  of  the  gallery,  with  the  inspection  warders  overlooking  them. 

The  minister  and  clerk  sit  on  elevated  seats  erected  in  the  centre  of  the  chapel  somewhat 
resembling  the  pulpit  in  an  ordinary  chapel,  entering  by  a  staircase  behind.  They  sit  along- 
side of  each  other,  with  a  higher  seat  for  the  governor  or  deputy-governor  erected  between 
them,  and  overlooking  them,  the  governor's  seat  having  a  most  commanding  position,  suit- 
able to  his  superior  ofi^ce.  In  front  of  the  elevated  seats  occupied  by  the  governor,  chaplain, 
and  clerk,  are  inscribed  the  apostles'  creed.  Lord's  prayer,  and  ten  commandments.  In  an 
enclosure  beneath  the  pulpit  are  the  conmiunion  table,  and  two  chairs  covered  with  puce 
cloth.  Round  the  altar  are  cushions  made  of  blue  serge.  Between  this  enclosure  and  the 
bottom  of  the  gallery  is  an  open  space  paved  with  Dutch  tile,  about  26  feet  long  and  1^ 
broad,  in  the  form  of  a  crescent. 

The  first  block  of  seats  on  each  side  is  similar  in  construction  to  those  described  in  ?en- 
tonville  prison.  The  rest  of  the  seats  behind  these  and  above  are  opened  by  doors  in  the 
back  and  front.  They  are  kept  locked  during  service,  and  are  unlocked  after  it  is  over,  for 
the  prisoners  to  return  to  their  cells. 

There  are  galleries  for  the  male  and  female  officers  ranged  around  the  back  and  sides  oi 
the  pulpit,  with  two  seats  on  each  side  of  the  area  beneath.  A  high  wooden  partitioa 
screens  the  females  from  the  view  of  the  male  prisoners  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  gallcrr. 

In  the  centre  of  the  gallery  facing  the  pulpit  a  dock  has  been  placed  for  the  convenience 
of  the  chaplain. 

There  are  places  of  inspection  for  the  officers,  generally  two  on  each  side  of  the  gBllen-? 
in  front  of  the  criminals,  as  at  Fentonville. 

The  chapel  is  well  lighted  by  numerous  iron-framed  windows  in  the  sides  and  roof,  and 
is  ventilated  in  the  roo£  In  the  winter  season  it  is  heated  by  Haden'a  patent  hettiiv 
apparatus. 

Off  the  chapel  is  a  small  vestry. 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTION,  WAISTDSWORTH.  518 

The  priflonOTS  enter  the  chapel  by  means  of  two  staircases  communicating  with  the  central 
haUy  and  by  a  covered  bridge  leading  from  the  upper  part  of  the  A  and  E  wings. 

As  we  looked  around  us,  the  scene  was  a  novel  and  peculiar  one.  When  the  prisoners 
were  seated  in  their  stalls^  while  the  assistant  chaplain  was  conducting  the  service,  and  the 
assistant  teacher  officiating  as  clerk  in  the  responses,  from  our  seat  we  could  not  see  any  of 
the  prisoners  in  the  galleries  with  the  exception  of  one  little  boy  in  the  front  seat,  next  to 
the  pulpit,  on  the  one  side,  and  a  middle-aged  woman  and  several  young  girls  on  the  other. 
The  whole  of  the  prisoners  were  fully  under  the  inspection  of  the  deputy -governor  above 
us,  and  of  the  warders  over  the  galleries,  but  were  hid  from  our  view.  The  middle-aged 
woman  listened  with  very  becoming  demeanour,  read  her  prayer-book,  and  attended  care- 
fully to  the  service.  A  little  girl  about  twelve  years  of  age  sat  by  her  side,  with  a  well- 
formed,  pale,  interesting  countenance,  and  fair  hair,  very  unlike  a  felon.  She  noticed  us 
to  be  a  stranger,  and  eyed  us  with  evident  curiosity.  The  little  boy  in  the  front  seat  was 
clad  in  the  dark  prison  dress.  He  was  a  sharp  little  fellow,  with  a  keen  dark  eye,  and  had 
been  newl}'  brought  into  prison.  Though  young  in  years,  he  had  the  callous  manner  of  an 
old  offender.  He  sat  part  of  the  time  during  service  looking  up  to  the  chaplain  with  his 
hands  clasped  in  each  other,  with  the  greatest  coolness  and  unconcern,  as  though  the  prison 
to  him  was  a  familiar  scene. 

The  prisoners  stood  up  occasionally  during  the  service,  when  we  saw  their  heads  peering 
over  the  edges  of  the  stalls.  Most  of  them  were  from  seventeen  to  thirty  years  of  age. 
Some  of  them  had  a  pleasing  countenance,  and  not  a  few  had  a  full  intellectual  brow.  We 
only  saw  one  bald-headed  man  among  them.  Prom  our  position  we  did  not  have  so  good  a 
view  of  the  female  prisoners  in  their  blue  prison  dress,  but  from  the  slight  glance  we  had  of 
them,  they  appeared  to  have  generally  a  more  degraded  appearance  than  the  males. 

We  observed  the  registered  numbers  on  the  separate  stalls,  corresponding  with  the  num- 
ber of  the  prisoner's  cell,  which  enables  the  warders  to  detect  any  impropriety  during  service, 
such  as  scratching  on  the  panels  of  the  stalls.  On  one  of  the  occasions  when  we  were  pre- 
sent at  service,  a  complaint  was  brought  before  the  deputy-governor  that  one  of  the  prisoners 
had  scribbled  in  his  stall. 

In  consequence  of  the  lai^e  number  of  prisoners  in  Wandsworth  prison,  and  the  limited 
number  of  seats  in  the  chapel,  there  are  four  services  held  on  Sundays,  so  that  each  prisoner 
goes  to  chapel  twice.  The  first  service  in  the  morning  contains  as  many  males  as  the  chapel 
can  conveniently  hold,  about  400.  At  the  second  the  rest  of  the  males  are  present,  and  the 
whole  of  the  females.  The  third  is  attended  by  the  whole  of  the  females,  and  the  portion  of 
the  males  who  were  at  the  second  service ;  and  the  prisoners  who  were  at  the  morning 
service  are  present  at  the  fourth  and  last. 

The  first  service  begins  at  nine  o'clock,  the  second  at  a  quarter  to  q^even,  the  third  at  a 
quarter  to  two,  and  the  fourth  at  three  o'clock. 

By  this  arrangement  both  parties,  male  and  female,  attend  chapel  twice  on  Sunday,  and 
hear  a  sermon  once. 

The  prisoners  are  unmasked  while  at  divine  service  in  the  chapel,  as  well  as  while  in 
their  separate  cells. 

%*  ExercUing  Grounds, — ^We  passed  on  to  the  exercising  ground,  situated  on  the  north- 
eastern comer  of  the  boundary  walls  at  the  end  of  E  wing.  There  are  three  circles  in  each 
exercising  ground.  A  warder  patrols  in  the  second  or  centre  one,  while  in  the  other  two  on 
each  side  of  him  the  prisoners  are  walking  at  stated  distances  from  each  other.  The  outer- 
most and  largest  circle  is  for  the  stronger  and  more  athletic  men,  and  the  inner  for  weak 
persons  and  boys.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  upwards  of  50  prisoners  exercising 
on  this  ground.  Between  the  outer  and  second  circles  a  crop  of  parsnips  was  planted,  and 
within  the  other  circles  potatoes  had  been  recently  dug  up.  The  neighbouring  ground  in 
38 


514  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

eight  between  the  D  and  E  wings  was  planted  with  potatoes,  onions,  and  cabbages.  The  pri- 
soners walked  with  their  faces  masked,  and  their  hands  behind  their  back,  in  quiet  and  appa- 
rently thoughtful  attitude.  They  were  very  orderly  during  our  visit,  and  scarcely  a  vord 
was  uttered  by  the  officers.  The  day  was  bright  and  sunny,  which  gave  a  more  cheeiful 
tone  to  the  scene.  Each  prisoner  kept  steadily  about  four  yards  apart.  Sometimes 
they  came  too  close  to  each  other  for  the  purpose  of  talking,  and  were  recalled  by  the  manly 
voice  of  the  warders — **  No.  44,  not  so  close  there,"  or  *'  Not  so  quick,  48."  The  only  sound 
we  heard  within  the  grounds  was  the  pattering  of  their  feet  as  they  steadily  went  round  the 
circles,  and  the  occasional  calls  of  the  officers.  Another  warder  walked  near  to  the  outer 
circle,  to  keep  a  sharp  scrutiny  over  the  prisoners.  Both  officers  were  attired  in  white 
trousers,  blue  surtout  coat»,  and  caps  with  peaks,  with  a  dark  shining  leather  poueh,  like  a 
<cartouch  box,  sluDg^  behind. 

They  generally  continue  out  for  an  hour  each  day  in  the  exercising  gronnds,  when 
another  detachment  of  prisoners  take  their  places.  Their  movements  ore  in  a  great  measure 
similar  to  those  at  Pentonville,  so  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  give  a  fuller  recital. 

The  chief  warder  pointed  out  to  us,  among  the  masked  men  exercising  in  dark  gray  dress, 
the  little  dwarf  whose  tattered  clothes  we  saw  in  the  prisoners'  own  clothes  store-room. 
He  had  a  very  diminutive  appearance  alongside  of  the  other  criminals,  and  sauntered  very 
carelessly  in  a  stooping  posture.  The  prison  dress  was  a  comfortable  change  to  Imn,  as  to 
many  others  on  the  ground,  whose  clothes  when  at  large  are  in  a  squalid  and  wretched 
condition. 

We  noticed  a  tall  athletic  man,  evidently  of  a  superior  order  to  the  generality  of  the 
prisoners,  who  had  been  guilty  of  embezzling  the  property  of  his  master,  a  draper  in  the 
metropolis. 

Although  the  prisoners  are  masked  to  conceal  their  features,  yet  from  the  outlines  of 
their  form  as  seen  through  the  prison  dress,  and  from  their  gait,  they  are  generally  recog- 
nizable by  their  '  pals '  and  acquaintances  in  the  prison. 

*#*  The  jPump  House, — ^We  afterwards  proceeded  to  visit  the  wards  where  the  prisoners 
are  subjected  to  hard  labour.  Leaving  the  exercising  ground,  and  passing  the  end  of  D 
wing,  the  pump-house  presented  itself  to  our  view,  about  twenty  yards  from  the  junction  of 
the  C  and  I)  wings.  The  greater  part  of  the  surrounding  ground  is  cultivated  and  filled  up 
with  leeks  and  cabbages.  The  pump-house  is  an  oblong  building  about  54  feet  long  and  32 
feet  broad.  The  machinery  runs  along  the  centre  of  the  building.  There  are  twelve 
stalls  on  each  side,  each  of  them  furnished  with  a  handle  connected  with  the  central 
jaachinery,  which,  when  set  in  motion,  conveys  the  water  into  cisterns  on  the  roof 
of  the  prison.  The  j^risoners  are  employed  on  these  machines  an  hour  at  a  time,  and  daring 
that  period  rest  three  times  for  £vo  minutes,  so  that  they  are  kept  working  forty-five  minutes. 
They  are  in  charge  of  two  officers.  One  is  stationed  outside  the  building,  and  the  other  on 
the  floor  above  the  men  at  the  pumps,  overlooking  them.  On  each  side  of  the  pump-hoose 
is  a  urinal  and  water  closet  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners. 

The  warder  outside  walks  round  the  pump-house,  and  attends  to  the  wants  of  the  pri- 
soners. It  is  also  his  duty  to  look  after  the  changing  of  the  prisoners,  and  to  intimate  the 
same  to  the  officer  inside  the  prison,  who  prepares  a  fresh  gang  of  men. 

The  duty  of  the  officer  inside  the  pump-house  is  to  sec  that  the  prisoners  do  tiieir  work 
steadily,  and  to  intimate  any  irregularity  or  idleness  in  his  report  book  to  the  deputy  governor. 
The  number  of  revolutions  performed  at  the  pumps  the  day  before  our  visit  was  4703|  whidi 
is  about  the  average  number. 

The  prison  and  tho  other  houses  connected  with  the  establishment  adjoiiuiig  the  boon* 
dary  wall  are  supplied  by  water  drawn  from  an  arteaon  well,  480  feet  deep^  immfidiatelj 
iieneath  tho  pump-house. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  515 

The  water  is  first  conveyed  into  the  main  cistern,  from  which  it  is  condncted  through  all 
parts  of  the  male  and  female  prisons.  Between  5000  and  6000  gallons  of  water  are  pumped 
daily  daring  working  days. 

We  observed  a  wooden  indicator,  about  4  feet  6  uicheB  in  length,  on  the  D  wing,  showing 
the  depth  of  water  in  the  main  cistern. 

%♦  MiU  Sbiise, — We  next  visited  the  grinding  mills  on  the  basement  of  A  wing.  In 
this  ward  of  the  prison,  wheat  is  ground  by  the  prisoners  in  separate  cells  by  hand-mills, 
patented  by  Bean  &  Sons,  Birmingham.  They  are  turned  by  hand  labour  similar  to  a  grind- 
stone, and  are  considered  hard  labour.  The  prisoners  are  kept  three  hours  a-day  on  these 
hand-mills,  and  grind  on  an  average  half  a  bushel  during  that  time,  when  they  are  relieved 
by  other  prisoners,  who  execute  the  same  amount  of  work.  There  are  twenty  of  these  mills. 
Nineteen  of  them  are  in  steady  work,  and  one  is  generally  kept  unused  for  the  miller  to 
dress  the  stones.  The  prisoners  engaged  at  this  hard  labour  fill  up  the  rest  of  their  time 
picking  oakum. 

The  mills  on  an  average  grind  a  bushel  a-day.  They  grind  the  wheat  and  dress  the  flour. 
The  passage  between  these  cells  is  supported  by  iron  girders  and  pillars,  and  paved  with 
York  slab.  There  is  a  large  bin  at  one  end  for  the  purpose  of  mixing  the  flour,  and  scales 
and  weights  for  measuring  it.  In  the  passage  we  observed  two  rows  of  sacks  filled  with 
floor,  bran,  and  wheat,  besides  a  considerable  nimiber  of  empty  sacks. 

Each  cell  in  this  ward  has  an  inspection  plate,  through  which  the  officer  can  overlook 
the  prisoner  at  his  toil ;  and  there  is  a  signal  plate  outside  the  cell,  by  which  the  prisoner 
•can  apprise  the  officer  in  case  of  necessity. 

%*  J3^ard  Labour  Machines, — We  also  inspected  the  hard-labour  machines  in  corridor 
E  1,  patented  by.Botten.  They  move  by  a  crank  hand,  and  perform  on  an  average  12,000 
revolutions  a-day.  The  prisoner  in  the  flrst  cell  we  visited  had  to  perform  12,000  revolu- 
tions ;  some  have  only  10,000.  There  is  an  indicator  on  the  machine  to  tell  the  amount 
of  work  performed. 

The  hard-labour  machine  consists  of  an  iron  instrument  in  a  square  wooden  box,  supported 
•on  a  wooden  cyHnder,  resting  on  a  broad  wooden  base. 

The  chief  warder,  pointing  to  the  hard-labour>  machine  in  the  cell,  said  to  the  warder  in 
attendance : — "  Open  this,  Mr.  Hooper,  and  explain  shortly  the  nature  of  the  machinery." 

''  These  weights  here,''  said  the  officer,  pointing  to  the  weights  enclosed  in  the  wooden  box, 
■<'  are  for  regulating  the  pressure.  This  drum  works  within  these  two  caps,  one  beneath  and 
one  at  the  top.  There  is  a  tongue  underneath  here  that  acts  on  a  roUer,  which  also  regulates 
the  pressure,  and  prevents  the  machine  from  being  turned  in  any  other  way  than  one.  There 
is  also  a  dial  seen  from  the  exterior  of  the  wooden  box,  which  is  marked  for  16,000  revo- 
lutions, and  the  hand  signifies  the  number  performed." 

The  pressure  can  be  altered,  and  the  hard  laboiur  consequently  lightened  or  increased,  by 
removing  the  weights,  or  adding  to  them.  The  machine  without  the  weights  is  7  lbs.  pressure. 
Two  weights  added  to  it,  increase  the  pressure  to  10  lbs.,  and  the  whole  of  the  weights 
introduced  brings  it  to  12  lbs. 

The  pressure  of  the  machine  is  prescribed  by  the  medical  officer.  There  are  100 
machines,  all  in  E  1,  some  have  wood  and  others  have  iron  covers. 

We  went  with  the  deputy  governor  over  several  of  the  cells  to  see  the  prisoners  engaged 
at  this  labour. 

In  one  cell  in  E  2,  we  saw  aladof  seventeen  years  of  age,  with  reddish  hair,  and  amiable 
countenance,  resting  beside  the  machine,  as  if  exhausted  with  the  work.  He  soon  after 
resumed,  and  appeared  to  be  good-humoured  at  his  toil,  working  slowly  and  steadily; 
occasionally  tossing  his  head  back  to  throw  the  hair  from  over  his  brow. 


516  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

A  young  man  sat  in  the  comer  of  another  cell  with  his  cheek  leaning  on  his  hand,  and 
his  elbow  resting  on  the  table.  He  appeared  to  be  absorbed  reading.  The  labour  machine 
stood  beside  him,  with  the  handle  pointing  upwards,  as  if  he  were  exhausted,  and  was 
recruiting  his  strength,  by  taking  a  glance  at  some  book  which  interested  him. 

In  another  cell,  a  young  man,  under  the  middle  size,  was  stripped  to  his  shirt  andtronsers 
at  the  labour  machine,  bending  over  it  with  his  temples  bound  with  a  handkerchief.  His 
movement  was  rather  stiff,  as  though  he  were  exhausted  with  the  work. 

In  a  different  cell,  a  man  stood  by  the  machine  with  his  one  hand  resting  on  it, 
tired  with  the  work,  and  was  wiping  his  face  with  a  towel.  He  was  a  heavy-browed  young 
man,  apparently  belonging  to  the  lower  orders. 

.  %*  School, — ^We  accompanied  the  chief  warder  into  the  juvenile  school-room,  where  we 
were  introduced  to  the  teacher,  Mr.  Ellis,  a  silver-headed,  kind,  and  intelligent  officer.  He 
was  then  engaged  with  his  class.  The  pupils  were  ranged  in  stalls  along  the  back  of  a  large 
weU  -lighted  airy  room  under  the  chapel.  There  were  nineteen  scholars  present,  ranging  from 
seven  to  thirteen  years  of  age.  They  had  on  the  dark  gray  p^son  dress ;  their  hair  uncnt, 
and  many  of  them  of  an  interesting  appearance,  very  uiUike  criminals.  Many  of  them  had 
a  clear  and  ingenuous  expression. 

One  Httle  pale*faced  boy  was  reading  his  lesson  to  his  kind-hearted  teacher.  '^  Three 
of  them,"  said  Mr,  Ellis,  '*  don't  know  the  alphabet,  nor  even  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Ten  of 
the  class  are  able  to  read  the  Testament.  The  other  six  are  in  the  primer."  Some  of  the 
boys  in  their  separate  staUs  in  the  class-room  were  busy  writing  copies  on  their  slate.  One 
boy  had  copied  from  a  Bible,  which  lay  before  him,  a  verse  of  the  26th  chapter  of  Proverbs: 
''As  snow  in  summer,  as  rain  in  harvest,  so  honour  is  not  seemly  for  a  fool !*'  He  was  a 
fiharp-eyed  lad  of  fourteen,  with  a  finely  formed  coimtenance. 

Another  boy,  with  a  dear,  gentle,  deep  eye,  was  busy  writing  on  his  slate,  ''  In  all  labour 
there  is  profit.''     His  fingers  were  dark  with  picking  oakum. 

One  lad,  with  a  dark  eye  and  broad  face,  was  writing  over  and  over  upon  his  slate  the 
word  "property,"  in  very  neat  penmanship.  On  the  other  side  of  his  slate  he  had  a  question 
in  simple  proportion. 

Many  of  these  boys  had  a  well  formed  countenance,  and  most  of  them  looked  very 
intelligent,  more  so  than  the  generaHty  we  meet  in  the  street.  Some  of  them  had  a  fine 
full  forehead.  Their  demeanour  towards  their  officer  was  respectful  yet  cheerful.  The 
school-room  was  well-lighted,  better  than  many  of  the  public  schools  over  the  metropolis. 

On  the  walLg  were  suspended  a  map  of  the  World,  a  map  of  England  and  Wales,  and 
another  showing  the  travels  of  Saint  Paul.  There  was  a  large  black  board  in  the  apartment 
The  teacher  sat  beside  a  largo  table  in  front  of  his  pupils. 

There  is  a  stove  for  heating  the  school  in  winter,  and  two  presses  with  shelve  for  school 
books,  with  pigeon-holes  to  contain  tracts.  There  were  a  mmiber  of  Bibles  and  Praytf- 
books  in  the  two  presses. 

Prom  the  juvenile  class-room  we  went  with  the  chief  warder  to  the  adult  class,  which  is 
taught  in  the  chapel,  and  in  that  portion  of  it  seen  in  the  engraving.  The  assiBtant-teacher, 
whom  we  saw  officiating  as  clerk  in  the  chapel,  was  here  busy  with  his  class.  He  stood  in  front 
of  it,  in  the  elevated  station  usually  occupied  by  one  of  the  inspection  warders,  with  the 
Bible  in  his  hand,  and  a  large  black  board  before  him.  On  this  board  were  written  the 
words,  ''The  Lord  is  gracious,  his  mercy  is  everlasting,  and  his  truth  endnreth  to  all 
generations." 

He  was  engaged  at  the  Bible  lesson.  The  prisoners,  who  were  of  the  same  general 
appearance  as  those  we  saw  in  the  chapel,  were  very  respectful.  We  heard  the  teacher  chide 
one  of  the  men  for  MvoHty,  and  threaten  to  send  him  out  of  the  class-room.  Others  he  com- 
mended in  a  kind  spirit  for  the  manner  in  which  they  read  their  lesson.    They  genoally  read 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  617 

in  a  qniet  tone ;  some  with  great  shimbling  and  hesitation,  and  others  very  fluently.  Some 
of  them  had  an  engaging  appearance,  and  had  nothing  in  their  countenance  to  indicate  their 
criminal  character.  There  were  forty-three  in  the  class.  While  the  others  were  reading, 
the  rest  were  writing  on  their  slates,  as  in  the  juvenile  class-room. 

The  senior  teachei*,  Mr.  Ellis,  infonned  us  they  had  three  classes  a-day — two  for  adults, 
and  one  for  juveniles.  The  first  adult  class  met  four  times,  and  the  second  and  third 
three  times  a-week.  The  chapel  is  generally  occupied  the  whole  day  with  the  school  and 
chapel  services.  **  Some  of  the  juveniles"  the  teacher  stated,  *Meam  their  letters  in  the 
prison,  and  improve  very  much.  Others  are  very  hardened  and  careless,  though  their  mind 
is  in  other  respects  very  acute.  Some  of  them  will  not  give  attention  to  learning.  Their 
behaviour  is  in  general  good,  though  I  sometimes  have  to  bring  a  few  refractory  pupils  before 
the  governor." 

"  Many  of  the  adults,"  said  Mr.  Ellis,  *'  display  considerable  acquaintance  with  Bible 
knowledge,  and  all  of  them  have  a  Bible  in  their  cells.  I  have  had  long  experience  in 
prisons  under  different  systems  of  prison  discipline — ^the-  separate  system  as  well  as  the  others, 
and  have  130  scholars  at  present  under  my  care.  I  go  round  and  invite  them,  or  they  apply 
to  come.  Boys  under  fourteen  are  compelled  .to  attend  the  class.  In  the  case  of  those 
more  advanced  it  is  voluntary," 

"  In  reference  to  the  juvenile  criminals,  strange  to  say,  some  of  them  are  able  to  write 
who  cannot  read,  and  six  of  them  cannot  write."  On  turning  to  his  note-book  Mr.  Ellis 
continued,  "  Two  of  the  juveniles  have  been  three  times  in  prison ;  one  has  been  five  times ; 
two  of  them  twice ;  and  one  four  times.  My  decided  opinion  is  that  the  chief  fault  in  many 
cases  lies  with  the  parents.  The  boys  are  either  the  children  of  drunkards,  or  have  lost  their 
parents  and  are  without  proper  guardians.  They  are  generally  neglected  or  mistrained,  and 
have  not  had  a  proper  opportunity  of  learning  to  do  their  duty." 

%*  The  Bakery. — We  also  inspected  the  bakery,  which  is  situated  near  the  kitchen,  and 
were  introduced  to  the  baker.  '^  I  have  to  call  your  attention,"  said  Mr.  Claridge,  "  to  the 
two  nine-bushel  ovens  made  by  '  Thomas  Powell,'  lisle  Street,  Leicester  Square,  London. 
They  are  registered,  and  are  peculiar  in  their  construction.  The  fire  enters  them  by  a 
furnace  heated  with  coals,  and  passes  into  a  descending  fine  In  connection  with  the  boiler- 
house  shaft.  These  ovens  are  now  coming  into  general  use.  The  time  they  take  to  heat  is 
about  three  quarters  of  an  hour." 

Having  inquired  as  to  the  work  done  at  the  bakery,  Mr.  Claridge  continued,  ''  I  have 
four  men  assisting  me  in  the  bakehouse.  We  commence  to  work  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  when  we  put  in  the  sponge  with  one  of  Stevens'  patent  dough-making  machines. 
This  machine  is  superior  to  hand  labour  in  preparing  the  dough.  At  seven  o'clock  the 
assistant  bakers  (prisoners)  leave  the  bakehouse  to  attend  chapel.  On  their  return  they 
clean  and  prepare  the  bread.  After  breakfiist,  the  bread  prepared  on  the  previous  day  is  put 
into  a  basket  ready  for  delivery  to  the  storekeeper  at  ten  o'clock,  and  carefully 
■weighed." 

In  reference  to  the  preparation  of  the  bread,  the  baker  informed  us,  *'  The  dough  after 
lying  an  hour  is  thrown  out  by  the  machine  and  weighed  off  to  be  made  into  the  several 
loaves.  The  loaves  are  baked  three-quarters  of  an  hour.  We  generally  have  about  four 
batches.  The  ovens  hold  about  1200  of  the  six  ounce,  and  about  1000  of  the  eight  ounce 
loaves.  We  finish  work  about  half-past  five,  when  the  prisoners  who  officiate  as  assistant 
bakers  are  taken  back  to  their  different  cells. 

"  The  bread  remains  in  the  bakehouse  for  the  night,  and  is  delivered  to  the  storekeeper 
in  the  morning,  as  before  stated.  The  bread  is  brown,  of  a  coarse  but  wholesome  quality* 
In  addition  to  this  we  prepare  some  of  finer  flour  for  the  infirmary." 

The   bakehouse   is   situated  at  the    end   of  the    kitchen,  and   is    separated   from 


518  THE  QKEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOIi^. 

the  Bcnlleiy  by  a  passage  leading  to  the  female  prison,  and  enteied  by  a  door  always 
kept  locked,  the  key  of  which  is  kept  by  the  baker.  There  is  another  door  opposite 
leading  into  the  courtyard,  communicating  with  the  stores.  The  bakery  is  about  forty 
feet  long  and  thirteen  feet  broad.  The  two  ovens  occupy  the  inner  end  of  the  building, 
and  there  are  three  tables  for  *'  scaling  "  off  the  dough.  The  dough  machine  is  close  to  the 
ovens.  There  is  a  sink  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water  by  moans  of  pipes  fi^m  the  dsterns 
above,  and  a  bread-rack  on  which  to  place  the  bread  when  taken  from  the  ovens. 

There  is  an  extra  trough  in  addition  to  the  dough  machine,  which  is  seldom  required. 

The  floor  is  paved  with  York  slabs,  and  partly  with  Dutch  tUe.  The  apartment  is  high 
and  airy,  lighted  from  a  glass  roof  extending  along  the  whole  length  of  the  bakehouse. 
Dming  the  summer  season  an  awning  is  suspended  underneath  the  glass  to  screen  the 
sunlight. 

%•  -ff«<<?^.— During  our  visit  to  Wandsworth  Prison,  we  several  times  visited  the 
spacious  kitchen,  which  is  a  long  airy  apartment  forty-flve  feet  long  and  thirty-nine  feet  wide, 
somewhat  similar  to  the  bakery.     There  are  three  long  dressers  with  shelves  underneath. 

Having  asked  Mr.  Mumford,  the  cook,  as  to  the  persons  employed  in  the  kitchen,  he 
stated,  "  I  have  an  officer  assisting  me,  and  four  prisoners.  There  are  four  seventy  gallon 
steam  coppers  for  cooking  soup,  gruel,  etc.,  along  with  four  steamers  for  cooking  potatoes. 
As  to  the  work,"  he  added,  '^  we  commence  our  duties  in  the  kitchen  at  half-past  five, 
by  getting  the  morning's  cocoa  and  gruel  prepared.  Before  this,  the  night  watchman  comes 
down  to  the  boiler-house  to  get  up  the  steam.  At  six  o'clock  the  men  come  down  to  assist. 
At  a  quarter  before  seven  the  cocoa  and  gruel  are  taken  from  the  coppers,  and  at  half-past 
seven  breakfast  is  sent  to  the  female  prisoners,  and  at  the  same  time  breakfast  is 
served  out  to  the  prisoners  in  the  male  prison.  The  bread  is  carried  away  in  baskets,  and  the 
gruel  in  tin  pannikins,  as  described  in  the  other  prisons.  At  this  time  the  cook  draws 
stores  for  the  day's  issue.  Dinner,  consisting  of  meat  and  potatoes,  is  prepared  by  one  o'clock, 
and  sent  up  to  the  various  corridors.  And  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  supper  is  made 
ready,  when  oatmeal,  gruel,  and  bread  are  served  out,  which  closes  the  culinary  labours  of 
the  day. 

The  butcher  meat  served  out  to  the  prisoners,  as  well  as  potatoes,  are  of  good  quality 
and  carefully  prepared ;  superior  to  what  is  generally  sold  in  many  respectable  eating-hooses 
in  the  metropolis. 

*^^  Punishment  Cells. — We  visited  the  punishment  ceUs,  which  are  fourteen  in  number ; 
:^ven  of  them  being  lighted  with  a  small  iron-framed  window,  and  seven  of  them  being 
completely  dark. 

They  have  double  doors,  which  are  kept  locked,  to  prevent  effectually  any  communication 
from  without.  We  entered  one  of  those  dark  cells  which  did  not  admit  a  single  beam  of  hght 
when  the  doors  were  closed  upon  us,  and  all  around  us  was  as  silent  as  the  grave.  The 
furniture  of  these  cells  consists  of  an  iron  bedstead,  securely  flxed  in  the  floor,  and  a 
water-closet.  There  is  also  a  bell  to  conununicate  with  the  ofiicers  of  the  prison  in  case  oa 
sickness,  and  a  trap  in  the  door  to  convey  food  as  in  the  other  cells.  When  under  confine- 
ment  here,  the  prisoners  are  kept  on  bread  and  water.  There  is  no  difference  between  the 
fourteen  punishment  cells  except  that  seven  of  them  have  an  iron-framed  window,  and  the 
other  seven  have  not.  They  are  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the  ordinary  cells  in  the  corridors 
above.  The  bedding  at  night  consists  of  a  straw  mattress,  two  blankets,  and  a  rug  handed  in 
at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  taken  away  in  the  morning ;  when  a  tub  of  water  is  given 
to  the  prisoners  for  the  purpose  of  performing  their  ablutions. 

At  the  time  of  our  second  visit  there  were  eight  criminals  in  the  punishment  ceUs  of  the 
male  prison,  for  the  following  offences : — ^For  shouting  in  cell ;  for  exposing  their  featured; 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH, 


519 


for  refasing  to  work,  and  insolence  to  ojQicer ;  for  taking  a  library  book  out  of  another 
prisoner's  cell  when  unlocked  for  chapel ;  for  spitting  on  the  leaves  of  his  Bible ;  for  idleness 
at  hard-labour  machine,  and  talking  at  exercise.  We  may  add,  that  two  females^  were  then 
in  the  punishment  cells  of  the  female  prison,  one  for  eating  soap,  which  is  sometimes  done 
to  get  upon  the  sick-list,  and  have  better  diet,  or  to  be  relieved  from  labour ;  and  the  other 
was  punished  for  disobedience  to  her  officer. 

In  another  cell,  under  basement  D,  we  saw  a  whipping-post,  where  juvenile  criminals  are 
occasionally  flogged  by  order  of  the  magistrates.  This  is  done  by  means  of  a  birch-rod,  botb 
of  which  are  seen  in  the  engravings. 

Near  to  this  cell  is  a  padded-room,  used  in  extreme  cases  for  refractory  prisoners.  It  is 
similar  to  those  in  lunatic  asylums. 

At  the  time  of  our  second  visit  to  Wandsworth  Prison,  the  following  was  a  cla86ifloatioD> 
of  the  prisoners  according  to  their  respective  employments  :^ 


Mat-making 32 

Plaiting  sennit 3 

Tailoring 17 

Shoemakers        14 

Mechanics — 3  carpenters      ...  3 

Smiths 1 

Labourers  (53),  including  cooks     .  53 

Stokers,  2;  gardeners,  8        ...  10 
Cleaners  and  others  employed  about 

prison 24 

Whitewashers 8 

Central  hall  cleaner 1 

Chapel  cleaners 3 

Sundry  trades 11 

Painters «  3 


Cooper 1 

Upholsterer ,  i 

Bakers *    .     .     .  4 

Tinman,  1 ;  bookbinder  1      •     ,     .  2 

At  pumps 24 

On  the  flour-mills 43 

Unfit  for  labour  in  cell,  on  surgeon's 
list,  yet  not  sufficiently  indisposed 

for  infirmary s 

Punishments s 

In  infirmary IQ. 

Oakum  pickers 170 

fisrd*laboitr  machines      ....  95 

Woodcutter i. 


Total  of  males 


544 


\*  Store-rooms, — ^We  were  introduced  by  the  deputy  governor  to  Mr..  Goddard,  the  store- 
keeper, who  led  us  through  an  extenrire  range  of  stof»*rooms  in  the  area  of  the  prison, 
beneath  the  corridors.  In  one  aparfciii«nt  we  found  caKfully  assorted  piles  of  prisoners' 
clothing,  of  aU  sizes ;  vests,  jackets,  tmuwn^  capii  stoekings,  striped  cotton  shirts,  flannel 
shirts,  drawers,  and  shoes. 

There  was  a  large  store  of  raw  nutteriab  to  be  made  up  into  prison  clothes,  as  required. 
Calico,  for  drawers;  canvas,  for  hMnmocka;  flannel,  fiir  shirts  and  drawers;  sheeting,  for 
shirts ;  huckaback,  for  towels ;  with  other  furnishings.  In  these  general  stores  are  arranged 
articles  for  female  clothing,  such  ae  striped  shifling ;  Idue  serge,  for  petticoats ;  alpaca,  for 
veils,  worn  in  the  place  of  masksi  etc. 

There  are,  also,  tastefully  ammged  itorai  of  tafes,  threads,  cottons,  buttons,  needles, 
pins,  etc.  '*  In  addition  to  theie,"  said  the  storekeeper,  **  we  have  materials  for  making 
officers'  uniforms;  superfine  bltte  cloth,  pilot  and  doeskin,  and  chamois  leather.  The 
prisoners'  clothing,"  he  informed  us,  *'  is  also  made  by  the  prisoners.  The  officers'  clothes," 
he  also  added,  **  are  made  and  issued  once  a-yesr,  consisting  of  a  uniform  surtout  coat,, 
trousers,  vest,  cap,  belt,  and  pouch.  Also  a  great-coat  once  in  three  years,  together  with  a 
pair  of  shoes." 

In  the  stores  we  fi>and  wooU,  for  making  fancy  mats;  silk-twists,  for  imiforms;  silk- 
thread,  braid,  needles,  and  here  are  also  racks  flUed  with  500  or  600  new  blankets,  ready  for 
issue,  with  a  number  of  yellowish-brown  rugs,  similar  to  those  previously  described. 

There  are  huge  bales  of  gray  army  doth  for  prisoners'  clothing. 


WHIP,  OB  EOD,  WiSDSWOBlH. 


WHlPPXHO-POffE,  WAKDSWOETH. 


HOUSE  OF  COREJECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  521 

We  Tisited  an  apartment  containiDg  quantities  of  ironmongery  for  the  use  of  the  car- 
penters and  other  tradesmen  in  prison ;  nails,  screws,  brass  nails,  etc.  We  also  saw  racks 
pQed  with  shoes,  male  and  female,  neatly  arranged  in  sizes. 

From  this  we  passed  into  a  general  store-room  containing  numerous  articles  of  prison 
manufacture,  such  as  clothes-baskets,  bushel-baskets,  bread-baskets,  brushes,  coir  and  fancy 
mats ;  also  brushes  of  all  descriptions,  cell-brushes,  scrubbing,  blaeklead,  whitewash,  and 
paint  brushes,  mops,  shaving  bowls,  boxes  for  collecting  dust  in  the  cells,  and  mattresses  of 
cocoa-nut  fibre,  for  the  sick  in  the  infirmary. 

The  store-keeper  stated,  ^'  that  the  infirmary  mattresses  made  by  prisoners,  &om  coir 
fibre,  were  found  superior  to  flock  or  horse-hair,  and  are  preferred  by  the  medical  men  in  this 
institution." 

There  we  were  shown  a  table  coTered  with  all  sorts  of  tools  required  in  the  establishment ; 
bakers'  dough  knives,  and  knives  for  shoemakers,  bookbinders,  and  painters ;  also  hammers, 
pincers,  and  gimlets,  and  other  iron  implements. 

We  accompanied  the  storekeeper  and  chief  warder  to  the  provision  store,  and  saw  the 
bread  received  from  the  bake-house.  The  shelves  aroimd  the  room  were  full  of  large  baskets 
loaded  with  small  loaves  of  two  difierent  sizes.  There  is  bread  of  a  finer  quality  made  for 
the  infirmary  of  pure  white  flour.  The  common  bread  is  of  a  coarser  quality,  but  very  sound 
and  nutritious.  There  are  about  fifty  pounds  of  infirmary  bread  baked  daily."  The  baker 
stated,  '*  these  huge  piles  of  loaves  were  baked  the  preceding  day  for  the  use  of  the 
prisoners." 

In  this  store  was  a  large  quantity  of  oatmeal,  which  we  also  inspected,  with  large  bins  of 
rice,  barley,  sugar,  yellow  split  pease,  and  chocolate-coloured  cocoa-nuts.  There  are  also 
quantities  of  sago,  arrowroot,  mustard,  pepper,  and  coffee. 

We  observed  a  windmill  for  grinding  the  small  brown  cocoa-nuts,  like  beans,  for  the 
prisoners'  breakfast.  This  cocoa  is  much  superior  in  quality  to  what  is  generally  sold  in  the 
shops ;  and,  being  ground  and  prepared  in  the  prison,  is  perfectly  free  from  adulteration. 
There  is  also  a  weighing  machine  to  weigh  all  the  bread  and  provisions  received  in  the  store. 

In  another  part  of  the  store-room  was  a  large  puncheon  of  treacle  for  dietary  purposes, 
and  a  large  block  of  salt,  white  as  newly  fiedlen  snow. 

In  a  comijr  of  this  store-room  was  a  large  heap  of  potatoes,  which  the  chief  warder 
informed  us  were  grown  in  the  prison-ground.  They  are  of  the  kind  termed  ''  Shaws  "  and 
'*  Begents,"  of  superior  quality. 

The  stores,  which  are  very  extensive,  farther  contain  a  large  quantity  of  whiting,  bath- 
bricks,  jute,  birch-brooms,  oils  of  various  kinds,  sperm,  sweet,  and  lamp;  the  lamp  oils 
being  used  by  the  engineers  in  the  machinery,  etc.,  and  the  sweet  oik  for  the  hand-labour 

machines. 

We  were  shown  into  another  store,  where  we  saw  stacks  of  the  best  pale  yeUow  soap, 

several  barrels  of  beer,  bottles  of  stout,  bottled  wines,  port  and  sherry,  also  brandy  and  gin. 

The  latter  articles  are  supplied  for  the  infirmary,  and  are  at  the  discretion  of  the  surgeon. 

These  stores  are  all  well  ventilated,  and  kept  by  Mr.  E.  H.  Goddard  in  a  very  careful 
and  systematic  way. 

We  were  next  shown  into  the  wheat  and  flour  store,  which  contains  a  large  quantity  of 
wheat  ready  for  grinding,  besides  a  considerable  quantity  of  flour  in  sacks,  and  the  ofiol 
from  the  wheat  termed  bran.     The  wheat  is  of  superior  quality,  weighing  62  lbs.  a  bushel. 

In  this  store  is  a  "  smutting  "  machine  for  cleaning  the  grain  before  it  is  sent  to 
the  mills  for  grinding.  On  inspecting  it,  we  were  surprised  to  find  the  quantity  of 
dust  and  dirt  which  was  extracted.     It  is  worked  by  hand-labour,   and  secures  greater 

cleanliness. 

We  were  next  shown  a  large  two  stone  bran-mill,  erected  for  the  purpose  of  regrinding 
the  bran  made  from  the  wheat,  to  extract  the  flour  more  effectually.    This  mill  ia  wrought 


622  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LOlJfDO^. 

by  hand-labour.  There  are  three  compartments  in  the  interior  for  fine  flonr,  pollard,  and 
offal.  Erom  the  peculiar  way  in  which  the  stones  are  cut,  the  mill  thoroughly  cleanses  the 
flour  from  the  bran. 

On  the  following  day  we  resumed  our  yisit  to  "Wandsworth  Prison,  when  Mr.  Goddaid 
showed  us  over  the  remainder  of  his  stores. 

On  entering  a  large  8tore-n)om  in  the  B  basement,  we  found  a  huge  pile  of  materials  for 
making  mats.  In  one  compartment  we  saw  a  stack  of  yellowish  cocoa  flbred  yams  for  mat- 
making.  They  are  technically  termed  "coir  dolls.*'  We  obserred  bales  of  Bombay  vam 
for  the  same  purpose,  also  large  bags  containing  cuttings  of  the  coir,  commonly  called 
"  ends,"  which  are  issued  to  female  prisoners,  and  picked  into  fibre. 

In  the  same  store-room  we  saw  bundles  of  picked  coir  of  one  quarter  cwt.  each.  This 
fibre  is  sold  for  many  purposes.  For  example,  it  is  disposed  of  to  manufacturers  for 
mattress  or  chair  stufSng,  in  the  place  of  horse-hair. 

We  also  found  large  qaantities  of  sacks  made  by  the  prisoners,  and  sold  to  farmers  and 
millers.  The  storekeeper  stated,  ''  He  had  about  1000  yards  of  sacking  on  hand.*'  In  this 
apartment  were  stacks  of  diamond  and  sennit  mats  made  from  coir.  ''  Here,"  said  the 
storekeeper,  ''  we  have  fancy  mats,  rope  and  sennit  mats,  and  there  are  always  a  large 
quantity  on  hand.  The  sale  of  these  articles,'*  he  said,  *'  was  very  extenaiye."  On  lixdiDg 
to  various  specimens  they  were  evidently  of  good  quality. 

"We  were  shown  into  a  store  of  old  rope  or  junk,  where  we  saw  a  prisoner  engaged 
chopping  it  in  pieces  with  a  broad  axe,  for  the  purpose  of  being  picked  into  oakum. 

In  an  adjoining  gloomy  store-room  were  huge  heaps  of  junk,  and  in  another  apartment 
were  bundles  of  picked  oakum  of  half  a  hundred  weight  each,  ready  for  sale.  Also  a  laige 
pile  of  sacks  fiOLled  with  tailors'  cuttings,  and  oakum  waste  sold  for  the  benefit  of  the  county. 

We  were  afterwards  introduced  into  a  lighter  and  more  cheeil^  store-room,  containing 
tubs,  pails,  and  buckets,  made  by  the  prisoners,  which  closed  our  inspection  of  the  vast 
stores  of  this  admirably  managed  prison. 

We  ascertained  that  the  mats,  rugs,  etc.,  manufactured  here,  are  not  contracted  ftr  by 
mercantile  establishments,  as  in  HoUoway  and  several  other  Metropolitan  priaons,  where 
tradesmen  are  introduced  to  superintend  this  department.  They  are  made  entirely  miderthe 
inspection  of  the  warders  of  the  prison,  and  are  afterwards  disposed  of  by  the  prison  officials; 
hence  they  generally  have  a  great  quantity  of  raw  material  and  a  large  stock  of  maniifsc- 
tured  goods  on  hand.  The  discipline  of  Wandsworth  House  of  Correction  is  carried  on  with 
military  precision,  but  the  arrangements  at  Holloway  prison,  in  reference  to  produeimkiiom-f 
are  certainly  far  superior,  and  are  well  worthy  the  serious  consideration  of  the  authorities  of 
the  former  prison,  in  many  respects  so  excellently  managed.  At  Holloway  there  are  no  hand 
labour  machines,  as  at  Wandsworth,  used  for  no  earthly  purpose  but  for  ''  grinding  the 
wind."  Every  description  of  prison-work  there  has  a  useful  tendency,  and  even  the  hard 
labour  on  the  treadwheel  is  ingeniously  economized  to  pump  water  for  tiie  use  of  tiie  prisoD. 


%  iii.— A. 
The  Female  Frisan. 

On  entering  the  female  prison,  we  were  introduced  by  the  governor  to  the  matroo,  who 
kicdly  allowed  her  chief  warder  to  guide  us  over  the  interior. 

We  retraced  our  steps  to  a  small  apartment  on  the  left  hand  side  of  the  gravelled  eoart- 
yard,  in  front  of  the  male  prison,  where  the  female  prisoners  are  received  by  the  govenor  on 
leaving  the  prison  vans,  prior  to  being  admitted  by  the  gatekeeper,  a  lady-like  ezpedenced 
of&cer,  within  the  female  branch  of  the  establishment.  They  are  conducted  along  a  ooTered 
walk,  paved  with  Dutch  tile,  leading  by  a  grass-plot  and  through  the  mation's  gaiden*  to  ailight 


HOUSE  OF  COEBECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  523 

of  steps  in  front  of  the  F  wing.  The  garden  is  bcantifully  adorned  with  parterres  of  flowers^ 
roses,  dahlias,  and  geraniums,  and  rare  plants,  while  a  row  of  young  cyergreen  laurels  festoon 
the  outer  side  of  the  entry  to  the  female  prison. 

There  is  a  small  entrance  hall  in  front  of  the  prison,  on  the  right  hand  side  of  which  is 
a  door  leading  to  the  infirmary,  and  on  the  left  to  the  matron's  private  apartments,  of  which 
the  female  chief  warder  alone  possesses  a  key,  by  which  she  can  visit  her  at  any  hour  of  the 
day  or  night. 

%*  The  Beceptum  Ward. — We  descend  by  a  staircase  on  oar  left  hand  to  the  reception 
ward,  on  the  basement  of  F  wing,  which  is  about  fifty-seven  feet  long  and  fifteen  feet  broad. 
The  roof  is  arched  in  the  centre,  spanned  by  iron  girders,  and  supported  from  beneath  on 
metal  pillars.  It  is  floored  with  Dutch  tile,  and  lighted  by  the  glass  panelled  entrance  door 
OS  well  as  from  the  cells  oir  each  side,  while  the  walls  around  are  beautifully  whitewashed. 
There  is  a  small  desk  in  this  ward  where  the  reception  warder  takes  down  a  minute  descrip- 
tion of  the  various  prisoners  as  they  enter ;  and  also  a  large  press  where  a  supply  of  clean 
linen  is  kept  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners,  with  a  number  of  shining  tins  piled  over  it.  At 
the  extremity  of  the  ward,  is  a  small  recess,  with  a  water-tap  and  sink  for  cleansing  purposes, 
OS  well  as  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners. 

On  the  right  hand  as  we  enter,  there  are  two  slate  baths  supplied  with  hot  and 
cold  water,  similar  to  those  in  the  male  prison,  with  footboards  attached  to  them  for  Ihc 
convenience  of  the  prisoners.  There  are  eight  reception  cells  in  this  ward  of  about  the 
same  dimensions  as  those  in  the  male  prison,  frimished  with  an  iron  bedstead,  straw  mat- 
tress, blankets  and  coverlet,  and  also  a  water-tap,  etc.,  as  in  the  other  cells.  They  are 
floored  with  asphalt,  and  well-lighted  and  ventilated.  In  dimensions  they  are  twelve  feet 
seven  inches  long,  six  feet  seven  inches  wide,  and  seven  feet  ten  inches  at  the  bottom,  and 
nine  feet  at  the  top  of  the  arch. 

We  accompanied  the  reception  warder  to  the  pristmen^  own  eUthing^oom^  which  oonsista 
of  two  cells,  with  a  framework  6f  racks  in  the  centre,  and  others  along  the  walls  copiously 
supplied  with  bundles  of  apparel  of  different  hues  and  textures,  carefully  assorted. 

**  There,"  said  the  reception  warder,  pointing  to  the  top  of  the  centre  racks,  ''  are  the 
clothes  of  the  prisoners  confined  for  two  years'  for  misdemeanors  and  felonies.  For  example, 
here  are  the  clothes  of  a  schoolmistress,  sentenced  to  three  years'  imprisonment  for  maltreat- 
ing a  child  who  had  been  placed  under  her  caie,  consisting,  as  you  see,  of  a  black  dress,  gray 
shawl,  black  bonnet,  and  under-clothing ;  and  here  is  a  bundle  belonging  to  a  woman  to  be 
confined  two  years  for  robbing  a  man  with  violence  in  the  Waterloo  Road." 

Turning  to  a  series  of  racks  in  another  side  of  the  room,  "Here  are  the  clothes  of 
women  confined  for  twelve  months — ^being  chiefly  pickpockets,  shoplifters,  etc." 

We  found  the  most  of  the  clothing  in  this  room  was  in  tolerably  good  condition,  though 
much  of  it  was  of  a  plainer  sort,  belonging  to  persons  of  the  lower  orders.  The  chief 
warder  informed  us,  "  there  is  only  one  fiEuhionably -dressed  prisoner  at  present  in  custody." 

On  proceeding  to  another  store-room  of  nearly  similar  dimensions,  situated  in  the  dressing- 
room  ward,  where  the  prisoners  are  equipped  in  their  own  clothing  before  they  are  dis- 
charged, we  foimd  it  to  be  of  similar  dimensions  to  the  one  described.  We  noticed  the 
bundles  here  were  of  an  inferior  description,  some  of  them  ragged  and  dirty,  and  without 
a  bonnet.  The  chief  warder  informed  us,  "These  belong  to  prisoners  mostly  confined 
for  short  terms  of  imprisonment — under  two  months  ;"  and  continued  that,  "•  they 
chiefly  belong  to  females  guilty  of  assault,  and  drunken  and  disorderly  conduct — some  of 
them  paupers."  The  reception  warder  conducted  us  into  an  adjoining  cell,  and  showed  us 
the  clothes  of  a  prisoner  which  had  been  spread  out  to  dry.  The  smell  was  very  disagree- 
able. They  consisted  of  an  old  ragged  cotton  skirt,  the  colours  being  almost  obliterated, 
another  drab  merino  skirt,  hanging  in  tatters ;  an  old  dark  jacket  and  cap ;  the  shoes  were 


524  THE  GREAT  WOULD  OF  LOISHDON. 

old  and  rent,  and  covered  with  mud.  ''  The  clothes  are  in  such  a  pitiable  condition/'  ob- 
served the  chief  warder,  "  no  rag-shop  would  receive  them,  yet  they  belong  to  a  stout,  good- 
looking  woman  about  twenty-six  years  of  age,  to  be  confined  seven  days  for  drunkenness." 

The  reception  warder  stated,  ''  The  generality  of  our  prisoners  consists  of  persons  gcilty 
of  petty  felonies,  drunken  and  riotous  conduct,  picking  pockets  and  shoplifting,  coining  and 
uttering  base  coin." 

There  is  a  large  cupboard  in  the  reception  ward  containing  shelves  stored  with  vaiious 
articles  of  prison  dress,  consisting  of  blue  woollen  and  brown  serge  petticoats,  calico  under- 
clothing, blue  cotton  jackets  and  neckerchiefs,  gray  jean  stays,  blue  worsted  stockings,  white 
calico  caps,  and  small  black  alpaca  veils,  used  as  masks,  along  with  stout  pairs  of  shoes.  The 
prisoners  who  wear  flannel  on  their  admission  to  the  prison,  are  allowed  the  same  while 
under  confinement. 

The  dressing  ward  is  about  fifiy-one  feet  long  and  eighteen  feet  wide,  paved  and  roofed 
similar  to  the  reception  ward,  and  consists  of  six  cells,  each  of  them  furnished  with  an  iron 
bedstead.  The  prisoners  are  dressed  and  get  their  break&st  here  prior  to  their  being  taken 
to  the  governor  to  be  discharged. 

When  the  prisoners  arrive,  they  are  examined  either  by  the  matron  or  chief  warder,  in 
the  small  lobby  at  the  entrance  to  the  prison.  They  are  then  passed  down  to  the  reception 
warder,  when  they  are  stripped  of  their  clothing,  bathed,  and  equipped  in  prison  dress,  and 
after  being  inspected  by  the  surgeon  are  taken  to  their  respective  wards. 

In  answer  to  our  inquiry,  the  reception  warder  stated^  <'  I  enter  all  the  prisoners  in  the 
register,  and  affix  the  register  number  to  the  sleeve  of  their  blue  jacket,  as  well  as  the 
number  of  their  cells.*' 

%*  Central  SdL — ^We  proceeded  up  a  staircase  leading  through  a  strong  iron-grating 
on  the  right  hand  side  of  corridorF  to  the  central  haU  adjoining,  wil^  three  corridors  radiat- 
ing around  it.  In  the  centre  are  two  large  well-chiselled  stones  of  a  sexagonal  form,  sur- 
rounded with  a  massive  perforated  iron-grating  of  like  form,  about  six  feet  in  diameter, 
which  gives  light  to  the  store-rooms  on  the  basement.  The  central  haQ  is  about  twenty- 
four  feet  in  diameter,  having  a  lofty  roof  rising  in  the  form  of  a  sexagon,  ivith  sash  windows 
near  the  top.  Each  of  the  corridors  is  about  144  feet  long,  with  a  circular  arched  massive 
roof,  lighted  by  ample  sky-lights,  and  with  a  long  window  at  the  extremity  nearly  the  size 
of  the  corridor.  There  are  two  galleries  in  each  corridor  similar  to  the  male  prison,  with 
iron  bridges  at  each  extremity,  and  on  the  top  of  the  rails  is  a  truck  to  convey  the  prisoners' 
food.  The  corridors  are  paved  with  York  slab,  and  are  furnished  with  food  carriages  to  con- 
vey the  trays  with  provisions  along  the  lower  cells.  A  circular  staircase  leads  down  to  the 
store-rooms  below,  between  corridors  G  and  H. 

In  the  central  hall,  between  corridors  E  and  G,  there  is  a  brass  bell-pull,  connected  wiUi 
a  gong  over  the  second  landing.  It  is  used  in  conducting  the  various  duties  of  the  day,  and 
is  sounded  by  understood  signals.  There  are  three  smaller  bells,  one  communicating  widi 
the  front  door,  another  with  the  matron's  private  apartment,  and  another  with  the  chief 
warder's  sitting-room. 

As  we  entered  the  inner  hall,  a  long  file  of  female  prisoners  in  their  dark  gray  cloaks 
and  alpaca  veils,  were  returning  from  the  chapel  service.  They  entered  by  the  door  in  frou 
of  the  prison,  and  moved  along  with  slow  and  measured  step  at  stated  distances,  under  th: 
inspection  of  several  female  warders,  and  dispersed  to  their  respective  cells  in  the  vanood 
corridors,  presenting  a  very  animated  scene.  The  numbers  of  their  cells  and  divisions  are 
attached  to  their  cloaks  in  white  lett^s,  by  which  their  officers  are  able  to  distingoish 
them.  As  we  passed,  one  of  the  prisoners  had  overstepped  her  place,  and  was  recalled  to 
order  by  the  voice  of  the  chief  warder,  *'  Pall  back,  G  8.18."  Several  female  warden  were 
stationed  in  different  galleries  as  they  passed  to  overlook  their  movements^  many  of  them 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  WANDSWORTH, 


525 


elegantly  attired  in  monming  dresses  on  acconnt  of  the  recent  death  of  Prince  Albert.  As 
the  priiBoners  marched  along  with  military  order  and  precision,  the  matron  glanced  along  the 
corridors  to  see  that  her  officers  were  all  in  their  proper  place,  when  she  returned  to  her 
office.  Soon  after  we  observed  her  step  into  a  cell  opposite,  where  one  of  the  prisoners — au 
old  woman,  a  cripple — had  been  absent  from  chapel. 

We  heard  the  slamming  of  the  doors  of  the  various  cells.  The  chief  warder  informed 
us,  ''  It  is  the  imperative  duty  of  the  warders  of  the  different  divisions  to  see  that  the  cells 
are  properly  shut." 

Soon  after  we  saw  a  number  of  male  prisoners  pass  along  one  of  the  galleries  of  corridor 
F  under  the  care  of  a  warder  of  the  male  prison,  who  had  been  engaged  repairing  and  paint- 
ing an  empty  ward  in  corridor  H.  Meantime  the  gong  sounded  for  dinner,  when  the  store- 
keeper, attended  by  three  prisoners,  went  down-stairs  to  the  basement  to  receive  the  trays  of 
provisions  firom  the  kitchen,  which  were  forthwith  served  up  in  the  various  corridors,  as  in 
the  nude  prison. 


%♦  Matron^s  Clerh — We  were  introduced  by  the  chief  warder  to  the  matron's  clerk, 
who  furnished  us  with  the  following  list  of  the  cells,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  at 
present  occupied : — 

No.  of  Cells.                                           No.  of  Priaonen. 
14 8 


Corridor  F 

1 

a 

o 

99 

3 

„       0 

1 

99 

2 

99 

3 

..       H  1 

9y 

2 

» 

3 

Infirmary 

• 

Reception  ward 

Punishment  cells 

Total 


21 

23 

28 

29 

29 

24 

29  not 

29 


occupied,  as  it  is 


20 
22 
23 
18 
21 
19 


under  repair. 


25 

10 

0 

0 

166 


The  greatest  number  of  prisoners  in  one  day  during  the  last  year    ,210 
The  smallest  number  „  „  „  .134 

The  average  number  ,9  „  ,i  .170 


The  official  staff  consists  of  the  matron,  chief  warder,  store-keeper,  matron's  derk,  le- 
ception  warder,  infirmary  warder,  laundry  warder,  and  assistant-laundry  warder,  eight  com- 
mon warders,  the  schoolmistress  and  the  portress,  who  also  discharges  duties  as  a  warder  in 
corridor  F. 

We  were  shown*a  number  of  books  in  reference  to  the  treatment  of  the  prisoners,  etc., 
carefully  kept.  Our  attention  was  particularly  called  to  one  of  them  relating  to  Roman 
Catholics.     The  following  judicious  regulation  was  prefixed  to  it : — 

''  The  matron's  clerk  will  from  henceforth  undertake,  independent  of  the  rules  laid 
down  for  the  warders'  guidance,  to  look  to  every  prisoner  of  the  Roman  Catholic  religion. 
She  will  visit  each  after  they  are  in  their  cell ;  she  will  ascertain  if  they  desire  to  remain 
from  chapel;  if  they  do,  put  a  black  distinguishing  mark  on  their  door" — (here  the  matron's 
clerk  produced  fix>m  a  small  drawer  in  her  desk,  a  circular  dark  badge) — ''  report  them  to  the 
governor  for  leave  of  absence ;  enter  the  same  in  her  book,  which  she  will  keep  for  the  express 
purpose. 

*'  In  order  to  keep  this  very  important  rule  in  exact  order,  the  clerk  will  lay  her  book  on 


526  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON.  . 

the  matron's  office  table  every  morning,  taking  particular  care  to  call  the  matron's  attention 

to  the  same. 

**  In  this  book  are  entered  the  n^mes  of  the  prisoners  who  are  Roman  Catholics,  -with 
memoranda  as  to  when  they  were  seen  by  the  priest,  their  wish  to  stay  from  or  go  to  the 
ordinary  chapel  service,  with  their  desire  for  books,"  etc. 

%*  5%d  Laundry. — ^We  followed  a  number  of  prisoners  after  dinner  to  the  hrandry,  a 
detached  building,  situated  at  the  extremity  of  the  H  wing.  We  passed  through  the  adjacent 
drying  ground.  The  chief  warder  remarked  to  ns — "  That  in  this  gronnd  the  atmosphere  ii 
particuhffly  salubrious  and  pure." 

The  laundry  is  a  large  lofty  building  about  fifty  feet  high,  and  forty-eight  feet  wide.  Ve 
found  a  number  of  prisoners  busily  engaged ;  some  were  bending  down  washing,  and  others 
stoning  the  floor.  There  were  two  girls  amongthem — one  a  young  pickpocket,  a  fair-haired  giiL 
with  a  very  interesting  countenance.  An  elderly  woman  with  spectacles  was  sitting  by  one 
of  the  large  windows,  knitting  stockings,  while  a  plain-looking,  robust  prisoner,  of  about 
thirty-five  years  of  age,  was  cleaning  a  mangle.  On  looking  around  us,  we  found  the 
laundry  was  supplied  with  two  mangles,  and  with  a  long  deal  table,  for  folding  the  clothes, 
extending  nearly  the  whole  length  of  the  apartment.  On  our  left  hand  is  another  table, 
also  used  for  folding  the  clothes.  In  a  corner  of  the  room  are  six  drying  horses,  heated  from 
a  furnace  flue,  and  near  to  it  is  a  large  stove  for  heating  the  irons.  There  are  several 
flower-pots  in  the  window  with  Australian  onions — ^very  rare  plants — ^which  are  kept  here 
on  accoimt  of  the  heat  of  the  laundry. 

The  warder  stated  to  us — "  There  are  twenty-eight  prisoners  at  present  employed  in  the 
laundry ;  some  of  them  very  young,  others  of  more  advanced  years.  Thb  is  about  the 
average  number.  Nineteen  are  engaged  washing,  four  of  them  aro  wringing  the  dothes, 
and  the  others  are  employed  in  other  operations.  One  woman  is  constantly  employed  here 
mending  the  men's  stockings." 

In  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  the  laundry  warder  informed  us — ^*' We  begin  our  work 
at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  finish  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Excepting  the  time 
spent  at  chapel  and  dinner,  etc.,  we  are  employed  in  washing  clothes  for  the  male  and 
female  prison." 

We  passed  through  folding  doors  at  the  extremity  of  the  laundry  to  the  washing  cells,  which 
are  nineteen  in  number.  Each  of  them  is  nine  feet  long,  and  three  and  a-half  feet  wide,  with 
stone  flooring,  the  walls  being  whitewashed.  Each  is  furnished  with  a  washing-trough,  sup- 
plied with  taps  of  hot  and  cold  water,  and  also  with  a  foot-board.  The  prisoners  were  busy 
at  their  work  in  the  various  cells,  endeavouring  to  finish  the  task  allotted  them.  A  heap  of 
clothing  lay  on  the  floor  beside  each  of  them,  ready  to  be  washed.  There  is  a  diculcr 
opening,  about  an  inch  in  diameter,  in  the  door  of  each  cell,  in  which  the  prisoner  inserts  a 
portion  of  one  of  the  garments  to  be  washed,  as  a  signal  to  the  officer  when  she  requires  her 
attention. 

On  going  into  another  apartment  with  lofty  roof,  paved  with  Dutch  tile,  we  found  two 
prisoners  busy  at  the  wringing-machine :  one  of  them,  a  young  dark-complexioned  girl  ci 
about  eighteen  years  of  age,  with  a  modest  and  interesting  appearance,  who  had  btcn 
imprisoned  for  some  petty  felony — ^her  first  offence;  and  another  good-looking  Toucg 
prisoner  of  about  twenty-two  years  of  age.  The  machine  was  manufactured  by  Soyrii:, 
AUiott,  and  llanlowes,  Lenton  Works,  Nottingham.  While  we  were  present  they  filicd  i: 
with  shirts  soaked  with  water,  and  on  turning  the  two  handles  it  whined  and  dattered,  sni 
by  the  rapid  circular  motion  of  twirling  round,  the  wet  was  extracted  from  the  dothes,  and 
fell  to  the  bottom,  and  was  discharged  through  an  opening  in  the  machine  into  a  drain 
beneath  the  floor.  On  the  garments  being  token  out,  they  were  thoroughly  wnzog,  and 
ready  to  be  taken  to  the  diying-maohines. 


H0TJ8E  OF  COERECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  627 

On  looking  around  us  we  found  a  large  number  of  bundles  of  prison  dotlies  piled  against 
the  wall,  consisting  of  towels,  shirts,  petticoats,  etc. ;  at  the  extremity  of  the  room  two 
lai^  rinsing  tubs  were  supported  on  an  iron  bar,  over  a  large  sink.  A  prisoner  was  engaged 
taking  a  quantity  of  shirts,  caps,  etc.,  from  a  large  basket,  and  placing  them  in  one  of  the 
rinsing  troughs,  amid  a  cloud  of  steam.  On  our  right  hand  was  a  pump  for  conYe3ring 
water  from  a  large  reservoir  below  into  a  cistern  in  this  apartment. 

We  went  into  the  adjoining  furnace-room,  and  saw  a  large  copper  built  in  with  brick, 
and  a  furnace  underneath  it.  There  is  another  one  alongside  to  heat  the  drying-horses,  as 
well  as  the  water  in  a  cistern  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners. 

As  we  passed  along  corridor  H,  we  observed  a  considerable  number  of  the  female 
prisoners  in  their  dark  gray  cloaks  and  alpaca  veils  on  the  exercising  ground,  and  several 
warders  moving  in  a  reverse  order,  overlooking  them.  Some  infirm  prisoners,  and  mothers 
with  young  children,  sauntered  about  the  grounds. 

As  we  proceeded  along  this  corridor,  we  entered  a  cell  set  apart  for  the  use  of  the 
Eoman  Catholic  priest.  It  is  furnished  with  a  small  table  covered  with  dark  blue  doth, 
and  a  chair,  and  hassocks  for  kneeling.  The  chief  warder  informed  us  that  ho  brings  a  list 
of  the  prisoners  the  priest  wishes  to  see,  these  are  brought  down  by  the  matron's  clerk, 
placed  in  the  corridor,  and  sent  to  him  separately,  so  that  he  sees  them  quite  alone.  The 
matron's  derk  attends  to  him.  There  is  a  pane  of  glass  in  the  door  of  this  cell,  where  the 
trap  would  be  in  an  ordinary  one. 

*«*  Hie  Teacher, — On  being  introduced  to  the  teacher,  she  stated  to  us  that  there  are 
no  classes  taught  in  the  female  branch  of  the  prison.  **  My  duties,"  she  added,  ''  consist  in 
visiting  the  prisoners  separately  in  their  cells.  I  call  on  each  prisoner  on  her  entrance 
into  the  prison,  although  she  be  only  confined  for  a  few  days. 

''When  I  enter  the  cell,  I  ascertain  if  the  prisoner  is  a  Catholic  or  a  Protestant.  If  a 
Catholic,  I  say  no  more.  But  if  a  Protestant,  I  learn  if  she  can  read  and  write.  Very  few, 
as  a  general  rule,  are  able  to  do  so.  A  great  number  of  the  young  do  not  know  their  letters, 
and  are  very  ignorant.  Many  of  the  young  women,  £rom  seventeen  to  twenty*two  years  of 
age,  cannot  read,  and  very  few  of  the  old  are  able  to  do  so. 

'<  I  find,"  said  the  teacher,  '<  that  the  young  felons  are  often  better  educated  than  those 
of  riper  years.  At  present  I  am  engaged  teaching  twenty-eight  prisoners  the  alphabet  and 
monosyllables  in  their  separate  cells,  and  to  write  on  their  slates.  They  advance  to  the 
second  class  book  after  being  proficient  in  the  primer,  should  their  time  allow.  It  consists  of 
simple  stories  from  sacred  history.     After  this  they  are  introduced  to  the  New  Testament'' 

The  chief  warder  observed — "After  they  can  read  the  Wew  Testament,  we  consider 
they  are  able  to  read  in  the  cell  by  themselves,  and  are  then  supplied  with  library  books, 
moral  and  religious,  and  on  general  information." 

*'  Most  of  the  females  in  this  prison,"  continued  the  teacher,  ''  belong  to  the  lowest  order. 
We  seldom  have  a  well-educated  prisoner  here.  In  such  a  case,  I  generally  supply  them 
with  library  books.  I  usually  go  round  the  cells  at  a  quarter -past  nine,  and  continue  my 
labours  till  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,  with  the  exception  of  an  hour  for  dinner.  I  find 
my  pupils,  in  general,  to  be  tractable,  but  not  very  quick,  in  their  learning.  With  few 
exceptions,  they  are  very  dull  scholars.  The  young  women  are  more  attentive  than  the 
younger  girls,  and  make  better  progress.  I  often  read  to  them  in  their  ceUs,  and  many  of 
them  are  deeply  interested  in  the  narratives.  They  are  not  so  fond  of  religious  reading. 
The  elderly  women  are  in  general  very  obtuse. 

''  Sometimes  I  visit  as  many  as  forty  in  their  cells  in  one  day.  At  other  times  I  have 
only  about  fifteen  pupils.  The  general  average  is  about  thirty-eight.  I  seldom  remain 
longer  than  five  or  ten  minutes  in  the  cell.  I  believe  they  learn  better  separatdy  than  if 
formed  into  dasses. 


528  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOK 

*'  I  lately  had  a  Utile  girl  under  my  care  for  three  months.  She  did  not  know  her  letters 
when  she  came  to  the  prison ;  hut  before  she  was  discharged  she  could  read  the  Testament 
tolerably  well.     I  could  adduce  a  number  of  illustratioDB  of  this  kind. 

'*  I  don't  think  that  those  prisoners  who  hare  made  good  progress  in  their  education 
come  so  frequently  back  as  the  others.  Much  depends  on  home  associations.  Many  of 
them  are  worse  than  homeless,  as  they  have  unprincipled  parents.  I  refer  to  young  women 
from  sixteen  to  twenty  years  of  age,  belonging  to  the  unfortunate  class. 

^'  The  female  prisoners  are  in  general  very  grateful  for  the  use  of  the  library  books,  and 
I  have  no  doubt  these  greatly  cheer  and  benefit  them  in  their  cells.  I  seldom  have  to  report 
a  prisoner  for  misbehaviour,  perhaps  not  above  twice  in  a  twelvemonth,  and  these  instances 
have  been  for  destroying  their  books,  and  not  for  insolence." 

%*  Punishment  Cells, — We  visited  these  cells  at  the  basement  of  corridor  H,  which  are 
very  similar  in  their  general  appearance  to  those  in  the  male  prison.  They  are  eight  in 
number,  four  of  them  being  dark.  There  was  a  little  girl  of  twelve  years  of  age  confined 
in  one  of  them  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  who  had  been  singing  in  her  cell,  against  the  prison 
rules.  We  saw  her  taken  to  the  punishment  cell  by  the  chief  warder,  about  an  hour 
before.  She  was  drumming  in  passionate  mood  at  the  door  of  her  cell.  On  our  looking 
in  through  the  eyelet  opening,  we  saw  her  sitting  crouching  in  a  comer  of  the  oell,  with 
only  one  garment  wrapt  around  her,  and  her  blue  prison  clothes  torn  into  a  heap  of  rags  by 
her  side.  After  we  left,  she  continued  to  beat  the  door  in  a  violent  manner.  The  reception 
warder  told  us  ''she  was  a  very  perverse,  stubborn  g^rl,  and  had  been  shown  great 
forbearance.*'  She  added,  ''  that  &w  of  the  prisoners  are  confined  in  the  punishment  cells, 
and  never  until  other  means  have  been  had  recourse  to." 

On  going  into  an  adjoining  light  punishment  cell,  we  found  the  furniture  to  consist  of  an 
iron  bedstead,  water-tap,  and  water-closet^  and  a  bell  communicating  with  the  main  body  on 
the  prison.  One  of  the  light  cells  is  partially  lighted  through  boarding  firmly  fixed  on  the 
outside.  It  is  generally  considered  to  be  a  greater  punishment  than  the  dark  ceUs.  The 
prisonera  often  beg  hard  to  be  taken  out  of  this  cell. 

The  dark  cells  have  an  iron  bedstead  with  wooden  centre. 

The  chief  warder  afterwards  showed  us  a  book  in  which  reports  of  the  prisoners'  mis- 
conduct are  entered,  and  the  punishments  awarded  by  the  governor.  ''For  the  past  fort- 
night," she  stated,  "  there  have  been  four  punishments  inflicted  for  misconduct ;  one  for 
idleness,  one  for  the  prisoner  taking  needles  from  another  cell,  when  the  occupant  was  in  the 
exercising  ground ;  one  for  singing  in  her  cell,  and  another  for  disorderly  conduct  on  the 
exercising  ground.  I  have  not  seen  any  of  the  prisoners  tear  her  clothes  into  shieds  for  the 
past  eighteen  months,  as  the  littie  girl  has  done." 

The  chief  warder  continued,  ''  Talking  is  a  very  common  offence,  and  also  *narb'"g  the 
painted  stalls  in  chapel,  but  the  latter  has  been  considerably  checked  of  late." 

%*  The  Storekeeper. — ^We  were  introduced  to  the  storekeeper,  and  descended  a  staizcaae 
leading  from  the  central  hall  to  the  store-rooms  beneath.  On  being  ushered  into  a  neat 
store-room,  about  the  size  of  two  cells,  set  around  with  racks,  she  observed  to  us,  "  This  b  a 
store  containing  the  new  prison  clothing ;  there  is  a  deal  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room 
used  in  cutting  out  the  prison  clothes.  The  racks  are  filled  with  a  goodly  assortment  of 
garments,  consisting  of  grogram  and  blue  petticoats,  blue  cotton  jackets  with  small  white 
spots,  flannel  shifts  and  drawers,  striped  calico  shifts,  and  blue  neckerchiefs,  packed  in  small 
bundles  of  ten  each,  coloured  cotton  pocket  handkerchiefs,  calico  day-caps,  striped  calic<> 
night-caps,  linen  towels  with  a  red  stripe,  drab  jean  stays,  blue  checked  frocks  for  girls  of 
various  ages,  and  neat  little  flannel  shoes  for  children,  made  by  an  old  infirm  prisoner." 

On  shelves  beneath  were  deposited  a  quantity  of  the  prisoners'  gray  cloaks.     Alongside 


HOUSE  OF  COIIRECTION,  WANDSWORTH.  629 

were  webs  of  blue  serge,  grogram,  ana  jean,  and  a  stock  of  prisoners'  shoes — ^all  most  oare- 
flilly  arranged. 

The  storekeeper  showed  us  the  books  of  the  store,  *'  There,"  she  said,  *'  is  a  book  which 
contains  an  accouDt  of  prison  clothing  for  the  male  prison.  For  example,  on  26th  May  I 
received  707^  yards  of  shirtini;,  and  between  the  6th  and  27th  June,  at  various  dates,  I 
returned  28'^  shirts  all  made  by  the  female  prisoners.  This  gives  you  an  illustration  of  the 
manner  in  which  these  stores  are  kept.  I  take,"  she  added,  '^  a  particular  account  of  all 
clothing  made  for  the  female  prisoners,  in  addition  to  the  cotton*  and  flannel  shirts,  sheets, 
towels,  etc.,  for  the  male  prison.  I  have  twenty -eight  prisoners  employed  at  needlework.. 
The  generality  are  employed  picking  coir,  which  I  serve  out  to  them  at  six  in  the  morning. 
Each  prisoner  gets  2  lbs.  of  coir  a«day.  The  youngest  of  the  girls  have  the  same  quantity 
served  out  to  them,  and  gt^nerally  manage  to  pick  it,  but  it  is  not  binding  on  them  to  do  so. 
I  also  keep  the  property  of  the  prisoners,  which  is  carefully  returned  to  them  on  their  being 
liberated." 

The  storekeeper  showed  us  another  book,  in  which  an  account  is  kept  of  the  articles  used 
in  cleaning,  such  as  soap,  soda,  etc.,  and  of  the  articles  broken  or  otherwise  destroyed,  which 
are  replaced  once  a-weok ;  also  a  book  stating  the  number  of  shoes  sent  to  be  repaired,. 
When  returned  to  her,  they  are  entered  on  the  opposite  page.  There  was  another  book  in 
which  the  articles  of  clothing  condemned  by  the  governor  are  inserted;  and  likewise 
another  volume  containing  the  monthly  returns  of  the  condemned  clothing.  We  were  shown 
the  prisoners'  work  book,  in  which  is  set  down  all  the  work  done  in  the  prison — ^picking 
coir,  needle- work  and  laundry- work.  There  is  a  book  for  keeping  a  daily  record  of  this  ;. 
another  for  a  week,  another  fur  a  month,  and  a  different  one  for  the  quarterly  statements. 

We  visited  an  apartment  very  similar  to  the  last,  containing  a  store  of  the  clothing 
in  use.  On  each  side  of  the  room  is  deposited,  on  racks  and  shelves,  a  smaller  assort- 
ment of  clothing  for  daily  use,  together  with  a  large  quantity  of  blankets,  rugs,  and 

hammocks. 

On  our  left  hand  is  the  kitchen,  consisting  of  three  cells,  generally  used  as  the  warders* 

mess-room. 

Opposite  to  the  kitchen  is  the  scullery,  about  the  dimensions  of  three  cells.  It  contains 
a  large  rack  copiously  supplied  with  plates,  as  well  as  a  series  of  shelves  with  cooking  uten- 
sils, along  with  a  sink  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water.  Two  prisoners  were  here  em- 
ployed, one  of  them  was  scrubbing  with  all  her  might,  and  the  other  washing  some  utensils 
at  the  sink. 

There  is  a  large  mess-room  off  the  kitchen,  with  a  series  of  cupboards  for  the  use  of  the 

warders. 

Meantime  a  bell  rang,  and  the  storekeeper  admitted  a  truck  from  the  main  store  of  the 
male  prison  with  a  quantity  of  towelling  and  calico  for  drawers,  to  be  placed  under  her 

care. 

We  accompanied  the  storekeeper  to  a  smaller  store-room  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the 
basement  under  the  central  hall.  There  we  saw  a  large  rack  containing  pieces  of  the  best 
yellow  soap,  cut  into  various  sizes,  and  placed  in  piles  of  ten.  The  larger  pieces  were  for  the 
use  of  the  laundry,  and  the  smaller  for  the  prisoners*  use  in  their  cells.  They  are  so  carefully 
arranged,  that  the  matron  by  a  glance  of  her  eye  can  tell  the  quantity  on  hand.  On  a 
side  table  we  saw  a  small  machine  for  cucting  the  soap,  which  is  executed  with  great 
despatch.     We  particularly  admired  the  exceedingly  careful  mauner  in  which  these  stores 

were  arranged. 

In  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  the  storekeeper  stated,  "  My  duties  commence  at  six 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  whea  1  go  to  ihc  chief  warder  to  get  the  keys  of  the  stores.  I 
have  the  assistance  of  une  pnsouer  lo  serve  out  the  coir,  and  about  this  time  I  return  the 
property  of  the  prisoners  wno  are  to  ue  uisciiar^cd. 


630  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

^'  I  receive  the  breakfast  from  the  kitchen,  consistiDg  of  bread  and  gruel,  at  a  quarter- 
past  seven  o'clock.  It  is  sent  to  me  in  trays,  when  I  get  it  conveyed  by  the  hoisting  machine 
to  the  different  divisions,  each  basket  being  marked  with  its  own  letter  and  number.  I  also 
attend  to  serve  up  the  dinner  at  a  quarter  to  one  o'clock. 

<<  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  I  go  round  the  cells  and  inspect  the  prisoners  who  are 
employed  at  needle- work,  and  am  busy  the  remainder  of  the  day  cutting  out  the  clothes  and 
arranging  for  the  next  day's  duties.  The  supper  is  served  up  at  six  o'clock."  The  store- 
keeper added,  **  Every  quarter  I  take  a  particular  inventory  of  the  stock  in  my.  store,  and 
render  a  minute  account  of  it." 

%*  Visiting  the  CelU. — We  learned  that  the  prisoners  are  not  classified  over  the  various 
corridors.  Before  leaving  the  female  branch  of  the  prison,  we  looked  into  several  of  the 
oeUs,  and  found  persons  of  various  ages  busy  sewing,  knitting,  or  picking  coir.  We  jotted 
down  a  few  pictures  as  we  passed  along. 

On  looking  into  a  cell  we  saw  a  woman  of  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  seated  in  a 
comer  of  her  cell  by  a  small  table,  picking  coir.  A  brown  heap  of  twisted  material  lay  on 
the  floor  at  her  feet.    She  wrought  very  actively  with  a  modest,  thoughtful  countenance. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  smart  woman  of  about  thirty  y^ars  of  age.  A  quantity  of  nn* 
twisted  coir  lay  on  the  table  before  hen  She  was  less  expert  in  her  work  than  Uie  other 
prisoner,  although  she  appeared  to  be  a  person  of  more  enei^  of  character. 

On  the  door  of  a  cell,  as  we  passed,  we  saw  a  dark  badge  indicating  that  the  inmate  was 
a  Boman  Catholic,  and  did  not  attend  6hapel. 

We  entered  a  cell  occupied  by  a  woman  and  child,  which  was  considerably  larger  thia 
the  ordinary  cells.  The  chief  warder  stated  to  us,  **  When  a  prisoner  is  received  who  has 
an  inHmt,  we  give  her  one  of  the  large  ceUs  adjoining  the  central  hall,  with  an  iron  bedstead 
instead  of  a  hammock,  a  straw  bed  and  bedding,  similar  to  the  other  prisoners.'^ 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  fair-complexioned  young  girl  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  con- 
fined for  uttering  base  coin.  She  looked  much  older.  We  found  her  engaged  sewing;  on 
our  retiring,  she  bent  on  the  table  and  wept. 

Before  leaving,  on  the  third  day  of  our  visit,  we  visited  the  cell  where  the  little  girl  was 
oonfined,  whom  we  had  seen  in  the  punishment  cell.  She  was  clad  in  another  prison  dress, 
and  was  reading  a  book,  and  appeared  to  be  quiet  and  subdued  in  her  manner.  She  had 
been  subjected  to  a  punishment  of  bread  and  water  for  two  days.  From  her  card  we  found 
she  was  under  confinement  for  picking  pockets ;  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  her 
i^pearance. 

The  storekeeper  informed  us,  *^  The  great  mass  of  the  prisoners  of  various  ages  Bib  inferior 
needlewomen.  Many  come  here  who  cannot  sew,  but  who  become  tolerably  proficient 
before  they  leave  the  prison.  At  first,"  she  observed,  *'  we  give  them  towels  and  handker- 
chiefs to  hem.  As  they  progress,  they  get  better  work,  such  as  shirts  and  day-caps.  We 
have  no  fine  work  for  them.  Some  are  very  awkward,  and  others  are  tolerably  good 
sewers.  I  teach  them  to  sew,  and  find  them  very  grateful  for  my  instruction.  Some 
of  them  are  able  to  sew  their  own  dress  by  the  time  their  sentence  expires ;  they  ate  not 
instructed  in  shaping." 

In  reference  to  those  who  pick  coir,  she  added,  **  Some  are  as  expert  the  first  day  as 

when  their  punishment  expires." 


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=1 


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GBODKB  Ftirr  OF  HOiLOWAT  FBIEOH. 

I  O'.  iLln  ftMogt. 


Q.  BtortncfD. 
0.  WtlUDitlo 


THE  CITY  HOUSE  OF  COSltBCTIOIf,  HOLLOWAT. 
(KIR  ALL  CLASSES  OF  COimcrED  OBIUINALS.) 

On  a  cold  morning  in  December,  while  the  great  Metropolis  around  us  was  enveloped  in 
^loom,  we  sallied  along  Tottenham  Court  Road  on  our  first  visit  to  Holloway  Prison. 
There  had  been  a  slight  frost  during  the  preceding  night,  which  had  not  however  heen 
Eofficient  to  indurate  the  wet  streets  saturated  by  recent  rains.  The  stars  were  shining 
serenely  from  a  cloudless  sky,  as  yet  unsullied  by  the  smoke  of  ten  thousand  ehimnevB.  The 
lamps  were  still  lit  along  the  far-extending  street,  and  beamed  like  other  stars  in  the 
distance.  This  thoroughfare,  although  resounding  during  the  day  with  the  incessant  din 
of  vehicles  and  traffickers,  was  now  almost  silenti  and  deserted.  One  solitary  eab  was 
loitering  on  the  stand,  the  eabinon  being  seated  in  front  of  the  vehicle,  equipped  in  his  drab 
greatcoat  and  warm  muftter,  on  the  look-out  for  an  early  fare.  As  we  strode  along  Tot- 
tenham Court  Road,  we  met  several  workmen,  variously  attired,  proceeding  along  to  their 
cwtomary  toil ;  some  with  their  basket  of  tools  slung  over  their  shoulder,  and  others 
carrying  a  small  bundle  in  their  hand.  "We  observed  lights  in  severai  places  of  business  as 
we  passed  at  this  early  hour  of  the  day.    In  some  upholsterers'  shops,  the  c^opmen  and 


634  THE  GREAT  WOBXD  OF  LONDOK 

others  were  busily  engaged  cleaning  their  large  ware-rooms,  or  dusting  their  furniture, 
and  assorting  a  portion  of  it  carefully  in  their  large  windows,  with  a  view  to  attract  the 
public  eye.  Through  the  fanlight  over  the  door  of  an  occasional  gin  palace,  the  gas  was 
burning  low,  and  we  could  learn  the  inmates  were  already  astir,  although  scarcely  a  light  was 
seen  in  any  of  the  adjacent  dwellings. 

We  passed  several  lofty  commercial  buildings,  and  entered  the  Euston  Eoad.  At  the 
angle  of  the  two  streets  we  found  a  young  costermonger  stationed  by  his  barrow,  with  an 
ample  supply  of  yellow  oranges  in  beautiful  fresh  condition,  and  green  heaps  of  faded-looking 
apples.  The  centre  of  the  road  was  effectually  barricaded  by  the  operations  carried  on  in 
connection  with  the  underground  railway  from  Paddingtou  to  the  City.  Here  a  very  lively 
and  interesting  scene  presented  itself  to  our  notice.  The  works  in  this  locality  extended  over 
a  considerable  space.  Part  of  the  street  was  in  the  process  of  excavation,  and  the  subsoil 
was  drawn  up  in  small  waggons,  by  means  of  a  windlass  wrought  with  a  snorting  steam- 
engine,  which  emitted  a  white  column  of  steam  into  the  dark  sky.  A  portion  of  the  street 
had  been  already  excavated,  and  the  workmen  were  variously  employed  by  the  glare  of 
torches ;  some  wheeling  barrowfiils  of  bricks  and  stones  along  wooden  planks  placed  across 
strong  wooden  beams,  which  spanned  the  chasm  beneath  ;  others  mixing  the  mortar  to  build 
the  subterranean  arch ;  some  were  preparing  the  asphalt  over  blazing  furnaces,  to  overlay  it, 
and  others  were  busy  underground,  covering  the  arch  with  loose  soil  or  gravel,  to  con- 
summate the  work. 

As  we  proceeded  along  the  Euston  Eoad,  we  passed  St.  Pancras  Church  and  spire  on  our 
right — an  elegant  stone  building  of  a  peculiar  style  of  architecture,  beautifully  chiselled,  and 
in  some  places  &iely  carved^  The  strip  of  ground  around  it  is  tastefully  laid  out,  the  grass 
being  smoothly  shaven,  and  the  walks  carefully  laid  with  gravel ;  several  milk  vans,  laden 
with  their  white  cans,  whirled  smartly  along,  and  some  empty  coal  waggons,  with  their 
heavy  rumbling  wheels,  and  jingling  harness.  A  short  distance  beyond,  on  our  left  hand, 
we  reach  tho  church  of  St.  Luke's,  King's  Cross,  a  small,  fanciful,  and  grotesque  building, 
with  a  strange  contracted  roof,  resembling  a  Chinaman's  hat.  "We  observed  a  few  coffee 
stalls,  with  a  dim  light  gleaming  beside  them,  some  in  an  open  lane,  others  in  a  small 
wooden  shed  at  the  inner  side  of  the  pavement,  where  a  man  or  woman  was  retailing  coffee 
and  bread  to  tho  workmen  and  others  who  proceeded  along.  A  few  paces  farther,  and  we 
reach  King's  Cross,  as  the  day  began  to  break.  Kear  to  it  is  the  station  of  the  Great 
Northern  Eailway,  a  large  building  of  yellowishbrown  brick,  with  two  large  iron-framed 
windows  of  a  semi-circular  form  fronting  us,  overlooking  six  arches  on  the  ground  floor. 
The  Great  Northern  Hotel,  a  lofty  and  extensive  building,  has  been  recently  erected  in 
the  vicinity.  The  wooden  inclosures  around  King's  Cross,  as  well  as  along  the  Euston 
!Road,  and  even  the  gables  of  many  of  the  houses  in  the  vicinity,  were  covered  with 
large  flaming  placards  of  various  colours,  some  of  them  printed  in  letters  two  feet  in 
dimension,  inviting  the  public  to  Christmas  pantomimes,  music  saloons,  casinos,  and  other 
entertainments. 

King's  Cross,  in  general  a  bustling  thoroughfare,  was  at  this  early  hour  of  the  morning 
comparatively  deserted,  except  by  a  few  large  railway  vans,  heavily  loaded,  which  lumbered 
lazily  along,  and  by  a  few  workmen  hastening  to  their  daily  labour.  We  proceeded  up  the 
slope  of  the  Pentonville  Eoad,  on  our  way  to  Islington,  passing  the  policeman  attired  in  his 
warm  great  coat,  dark  shining  belt  and  cape,  sauntering  along  with  slow  and  measured  step. 
Many  of  the  houses  on  our  right  hand,  as  in  the  Euston  Bead,  had  a  grass  or  garden  plot  in 
front,  in  some  cases  planted  with  shrubs  or  trees,  stripped  of  their  foliage. 

On  the  top  of  the  hill  we  met  one  of  the  warders  of  the  Middlesex  Detentional  Tnaon,  a 
tall  military-looking  man  in  uniform,  hastening  down  towards  ClerkenweU  to  enter  on  his 
duties  for  the  day.  As  we  reached  the  Angel  Tavern,  Islington,  a  dense  mist  loomed  over 
the  sky.    There  was  no  omnibus  in  the  vicinity,  nor  a  single  group  of  people  near  the  ooaer 


HOUSE  OF  COBEECnON,  HOLLOWAT.  685 

of  the  street.  We  bent  our  steps  along  High  Street,  Islington)  one  of  the  busiest  promenades 
in  the  north  of  the  Metropolis,  and  a  gay  shopping  street,  occupied  by  drapers,  milliners, 
dressmakers,  and  others,  very  similar  in  its  character  to  Kewington  Causeway,  on  the 
Surrey  side.  In  some  of  the  drapers'  shops  we  found  smart  young  shopmen  standing  by  the 
counter  ready  for  business,  but  there  was  scarcely  a  single  customer  within.  We  passed  the 
triangular  patch  of  meadow,  styled  Isliogton  Green,  and  directed  our  way  by  the  Upper 
Street,  to  Highbury  Park,  where  we  had  a  sweet  rural  glimpse  as  we  turned  the  angle 
leading  to  Holloway.  There  we  took  a  seat  in  the  omnibus,  which  whirled  us  along  to  a 
beautiful  cluster  of  suburban  villas,  with  rural  prospect  and  salubrious  air,  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  City  Prison. 

The  House  of  Correction  at  Holloway  is  a  noble  building  of  the  castellated  Gothic  style. 
The  wide  extended  front  adjacent  to  the  Camden  Bead  is  of  Kentish  rag-stone,  with  Cuen 
stone  dressings.  The  sides  of  the  chapel  and  the  back  wings  are  of  brick,  the  windows  of 
the  cells  having  Parkspring  stone  sills,  with  splayed  brick  reveals. 

About  sixty  feet  in  front  of  the  inner  gate  is  a  neat  porter*8-lodge,  and  on  each  side 
of  it,  without  the  prison  walls,  are  two  elegant  residences  for  the  governor  and  chaplain^ 
with  large  gardens  attached  to  them. 

The  prison  is  built  on  a  rising  ground,  on  the  west  of  the  Holloway  Bead,  originally 
purchased  by  the  City  Corporation  to  be  used  as  a  cemetery  at  the  time  of  the  cholera  in 
1S32.  The  ground,  consisting  often  acres,  is  surrounded  by  a  brick  wall  about  eighteen  feet 
high. 

At  the  back  of  the  prison  lie  some  beaii^iful  green  meadows,  and  fields  of  arable  land,  a 
portion  of  which  belongs  to  the  City ;  in  ^e  distance  rise  the  green  Muswell  and  Homsey 
hills,  and  the  commanding  slope  of  Highgate,  together  with  Hampstead  Heath,  where  the 
redoubtable  Dick  Turpin  occasionally  roamed ;  while  away  to  the  south  extend  the  immense 
piles  of  architecture  of  the  huge  Metropolis,  with  its  hundred  spires,  by  this  time  wreathed 
in  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  and  mist. 


Tf  iv.— a. 
The  Siatory  and  Oonstructum  of  the  Prison.. 

In  a  report  presented  by  the  Prison  Committee  to  the  Court  of  Common  Council,  on 
20th  January,  1843,  we  have  a  condensed  statement  of  the  reasons  respectfully  submitted 
to  the  Court  of  Aldermen  by  the  Committee  of  the  Court  of  Common  Council,  why  a  new 
prison  should  not  be  erected  in  the  City,  but  rather  at  Holloway : — 

"It  is  assumed  that  Giltspur-street  Prison,  as  well  from  its  construction  as  from  its 
confined  space,  is  totally  inadequate  for  the  purposes  of  a  house  of  correction.  It  is  also 
asfiiuned,  that  all  parties  are  agreed  that  a  new  house  of  correction  has  become  necessary. 
The  question  then  to  be  decided  is,  whether  such  prison  should  be  erected  within  the  waUs 
of  the  City,  or  in  some  open  space  at  a  distance  &om  it. 

<«The  Committee,  with  a  view  to  determine  this  point,  have  carefully  examined  ten 
plans,  and  the  proposed  sites  selected,  which  are  marked  upon  the  plan  prepared  by  the 
architect. 

'^  No  1  is  an  enlargement  of  Giltspur-street  Prison,  the  total  area  of  which,  even  when 
enlarged,  would  be  only  two  roods  and  thirty-seven  perches  It  is  submitted  that  thia 
space  is  insufficient  for  the  contemplated  purpose ;  that  plan  is  therefore  rejected. 


6S6  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOHIDON. 

*'  Nos.  2  and  8  being  an  enlargement  of  jN'ewgate,  the  total  area  of  which  wonld  only 
be  two  acres  and  two  perches ;  this  also  was  considered  insufficient. 

"  1^0.  4  involved  the  destruction  of  the  Debtors*  Prison  in  Wfaiteoross  Street,  which 
would  have  given  a  site  of  four  acres  and  nineteen  perches.  It  was  rejected  because  of  the 
destruction  of  the  Debtors'  Prison,  and  the  necessity  of  providing  a  new  prison  for  them,  it 
being  foreseen  that  by  the  enactment  of  new  laws  that  prison  would  be  fully  occupied,  and 
therefore  it  w6uld  require  as  large  a  space  in  some  other  situation  to  have  erected  a  new 
prison  for  them ;  in  addition  to  which,  in  order  to  make  up  the  four  acres  and  nineteen 
perches,  a  large  plot  of  ground  to  the  north  must  have  been  purchased  at  a  cost  of  at  least 
£133,000. 

**  Kos.  5  and  9  were  plans  for  building  a  new  prison  upon  ground  adjoining  the  Debtors* 
Prison ;  the  largest  of  the  two  plans  would  have  given  a  site  of  only  two  acres,  three  roods, 
and  fifteen  perches,  and  would  have  cost,  exclusive  of  the  building  of  the  prison,  £141,000 ; 
these  were  therefore  rejected. 

"  No.  8  is  a  plot  of  ground  in  Goswell  Street,  beyond  the  boundary  of  the  City,  where  a 
site  of  four  acres  might  have  been  obtained,  but  at  a  cost  of  £214,000. 

"  Ko.  10  embraces  an  area  of  three  acres  and  two  perches,  and  embraces  the  site  of  the 
late  Fleet  Prison,  with  additional  land  proposed  to  be  tak^n,  running  up  from  Farringdon 
Street  to  the  Old  Bailey.  This,  with  the  cost  of  the  site  of  the  Fleet  Prison,  deducting  the 
value  of  the  materials  sold,  amounted  to  £154,800. 

"  In  all  these  estimates  the  cost  of  the  site  only  is  put  down ;  the  cost  of  erecting  the 
^lison,  it  is  assumed,  would  be  nearly  the  same  whether  built  in  or  out  of  the  City." 

The  committee  rejected  all  these  plans. 

''The  reasons  which  induce  the  committee  to  select  a  spot  out  of  the  City,  ar^,  first,  that 
as  much  space  as  may  now,  or  at  any  future  time,  be  required,  can  be  obtained  to  erect  a 
prison  upon  any  plan  to  accommodate  four  hundred  prisoners,  with  ample  airing  grounds, 
spaces  for  workshops,  etc.,  annexed,  for  a  sum  not  exceeding  £5000,  thereby  effecting  a 
saving  to  the  City  of  at  least  one  hundred  and  thirty  thousand  pounds.  Secondly,  that  upon 
tlie  space  so  to  be  obtained,  a  prison,  with  all  modem  improvements,  both  as  regards  the 
discipline  and  the  reformation  of  the  prisoners,  might  be  erected,  wliich  could  not  be  so  well 
accomplished  within  a  narrow  space.  Thirdly,  because  the  health  of  the  prisoners  would  be 
better  preserved ;  for  although  persons  living  w^ithin  the  City  find  it  very  healthy,  yet  it 
must  be  remembered  that  they  are  constantly  moving  about,  and  great  numbers  residing  out 
of  the  City  for  a  part  of  the  year ;  and  even  the  poorest  take  excursions  occasionally,  by 
which  means  their  health  is  renovated,  whereas  prisoners  are  confined  to  the  spot,  and  it 
may  be  for  a  long  time ;  it  is  therefore  desirable,  upon  the  score  of  humanity,  that  they 
should  be  placed  in  the  healthiest  locality ;  and  as  the  Government  have  restrained  transpor- 
tation, except  for  very  serious  offences,  it  is  probable  that  the  terms  of  imprisonment  siaj 
be  extended  for  three,  four,  or  five  years.  On  every  ground,  therefore,  it  seems  desinfale 
that  the  prison  or  house  of  correction  should  be  placed  out  of  the  City,  and  that  it  should  be 
built  within  the  county  of  Middlesex.  First,  because  the  City  of  London  holds  the  cooaiy 
in  fee.  Secondly,  because  the  sheriffs  of  London  are  always  the  sheriffs  of  Middlesex;  and 
Newgate,  although  within  the  City,  is  tlio  common  jail  of  the  county.  Thirdly,  becaase 
many  of  the  aldermen  are  magistrates  of  Middlesex,  and  have  therefore  co-ordinate  juriadictioa 
in  that  county  with  the  justices  thereof.  And  lastly,  because  the  county  mainly  surroaads 
the  City,  and  all  parts  of  it  where  a  prison  could  be  built  arc  more  accessible  and  more  within 
the  daily  walks  of  the  City  authorities  than  other  counties. 

*'For  these  reasons,  the  committee  examined  a  plot  of  ground  belonging  to  the  oorpom- 
tion,  situate  at  liolloway,  and  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was  desiiablo  to  erect 
a  new  prison  there.    First,  because  of  its  easy  access  from  all  parts  of  the  City  and  tfie 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  637 

nefropolis.  Secondly,  because  of  the  great  saving  of  expense  in  the  purchase  of  a  site. 
Thirdly,  on  the  ground  of  its  salubrity,  its  soil,  its  being  capable  of  being  well-drained, 
and  of  the  ample  space  which  may  be  obtained  for  all  the  purposes  which  may  bo 
required. 

''  Other  reasons  entered  into  the  consideration  of  these  questions,  which  it  is  unnecessary 
to  detail.  The  committee  had  only  one  object,  to  select  the  best  site,  to  get  the  largiest 
space,  to  save  the  most  money,  to  erect  the  most  suitable  prison,  to  preserve  the  City's  rights 
and  privileges,  to  uphold  the  character  of  the  magistracy,  and  to  have  a  prison  which  should 
indeed  be  a  model. 

"  On  the  llth  March,  1847»"  continue  the  prison  committee  in  their  report,  "  the  Lord 
Mayor  laid  before  the  Court  of  Common  Council  a  report  of  the  Jail  Committee  to  the 
Court  of  Aldermen,  on  having  received  several  offers  of  sites  for  a  new  house  of  correction, 
and  drawing  the  attention  of  the  court  to  the  land  belonging  to  this  city  at  Holloway, 
which  was  referred  to  your  committee  to  consider,  with  power  to  confer  with  the  Court 
of  Aldermen  thereon;  and,  before  carrying  the  same  into  execution,  to  report  to  this 
court. 

"  On  the  2drd  of  the  same  month,  the  Court  of  Aldermen  appointed  the  Lord  Mayor 
and  seven  Aldennen  to  be  a  special  committee,  to  act  with  us  in  relation  to  prisons ;  and  on 
the  31st,  we  appointed  a  sub- committee,  consisting  of  ten  members,  including  the  chairman, 
to  confer  with  the  committee  of  Aldermen  upon  the  several  matters  referred  respecting  the 
erection  of  a  new  prison,  and  to  report  to  us. 

**  On  the  14th  of  April,  1847,  the  special  committee  of  the  Court  of  Aldermen  and  sub- 
committee appointed  by  us  met  as  a  joint  committee,  and  it  was  resolved  unanimously  that 
it  should  be  recommended  that  the  intended  new  prison  be  erected  on  the  land  belonging  to 
this  city  at  Holloway.  And  on  the  13th  May,  the  joint  committee  resolved  that  it  was 
inexpedient  that  any  portion  of  the  land  at  Holloway  should  be  permanently  appropriated 
to  any  other  purpose  till  it  was  ascertained  what  quantity  would  be  required  for  the  prison. 
That  the  construction  of  the  prison  should  be  such  as  to  admit  of  its  future  adaptation  to 
any  mode  of  discipline  which  might  afterwards  be  adopted.  These  resolutions  were  subse- 
quently adopted  by  us,  and  submitted  (inter  alia)  to  your  honourable  court,  in  a  report 
presented  and  agreed  to  on  the  1st  July,  1847. 

"  On  the  29th  day  of  July,  1847,  the  prisons  committee  presented  to  the  Court  of  Common 
Council  the  following  report,  which  was  agreed  to  ;  viz. : — 

"  *  We,  of  your  special  committee,  appointed  on  the  20th  day  of  March,  1846,  to  co- 
operate with  the  Court  of  Aldennen,  and  to  view  and  examine  the  prisons  belonging  to  this 
city,  and  report  our  opinion  as  to  the  accommodation  afforded  to  prisoners,  the  opportunity 
for  classification  and  separate  confinement,  and  whether  there  exists  any  necessity  for  build- 
ing a  new  prison,  or  enlarging  or  altering  the  existing  prisons,  with  a  view  to  carry  into 
effect  the  improvements  in  prison  discipline  which  modem  experience  has  suggested  on  the 
subject,  and  to  report  thereon,  no  cektify  that,  in  addition  to  our  report  presented  to  this 
honourable  court  on  the  1st  day  of  July  instant,  in  which  we  stated  the  several  proceedings 
in  the  conferences  which  had  taken  place  between  your  committee  and  the  special  committee 
of  juils  of  the  Court  of  Aldermen  in  relation  to  the  proposed  new  house  of  correction,  with 
a  recommendation  that  the  same  should  be  built  oii  the  City's  ground  at  Holloway,  we  have 
now  to  report  that,  at  a  further  conference,  it  was  mutually  agreed  that  the  construction  of 
the  new  p.ison  should  be  such  as  to  admit  of  its  future  adaptation  to  any  mode  of  discipline 
thai  might  hereafter  be  determined  upon,  and  that  the  same  should  be  constructed  for  not 
leas  than  lour  hundred  prisoners,  and  that  separate  sleeping  cells  should  be  constructed.  We 
jointly  referred  it  to  the  City  Architect  (Mr.  Bunning)  to  prepare  a  plan  upon  this  principle, 
and  to  submit  the  same  to  us  tor  consideration. 


638  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOIT. 

^' '  That  we  have  since  received  from  him  a  plan  accordioglyi  classed  and  arranged  as 
under : — 

"  *  For  adult  male  prisoners : 
<< '  Fonr  wings,  containing  72  each,  each  wing  consisting  of  three  sloiies  to  accom- 
modate 24  prisoners •        .         .         •    288 

"  *  For  female  prisoners : 
** '  One  wing  containing  three  stories,  to  acconmiodate  •        •        •        •        •      56 

"  *  And  for  juvenile  prisoners : 
** '  A  further  wing  of  three  stories,  to  accommodate 56 


it  t 


Total 400 


*'  *  The  prison  to  occupy  a  site  of  eight  acres,  and  the  small  triangular  piece  of  ground 
on  the  north  thereof  to  he  retained  for  any  purposes  which  may  hereafter  he  determined 
upon. 

** '  That  hoth  committees,  having  duly  considered  that  plan,  and  heard  ilie  architect  in 
explanation  thereof,  unanimously  approve  the  same ;  and  we  recommend  it  to  this  honour- 
ahle  court  for  adoption,  subject  to  such  modifications,  if  any,  as  may,  upon  further  considera- 
tion, he  deemed  oKpedient,  provided  that  no  steps  be  taken  until  the  estimate  of  the  expense 
of  such  new  house  of  correction  is  reported  to  this  honourable  court,  and  their  sanction  had 
thereto/ 

*'  On  the  10th  of  February,  1848,  the  prison  conmiittee  presented  to  the  Court  of  Com* 
mon  Council  another  report,  viz. : — 

'^ '  We,  of  your  special  committee  in  relation  to  prisons,  to  whom  on  the  29th  day  of 
July  last  it  was  referred,  in  accordance  with  the  terms  of  our  report  on  that  day  presented, 
to  prepare  an  estimate  of  the  expense  of  carrying  into  execution  the  plans  which  accom- 
panied our  report,  and  which  were  agreed  to  by  this  honourable  court,  no  cehuft  that  we 
have  duly  proceeded  therein  and  referred  it  to  ^e  sub-committee  appointed  to  confer  and  act 
in  conjunction  with  the  jaU  committee  of  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  to  consider  of  and  pre- 
pare the  necessary  estimate  as  required. 

*'  ^  That  the  sub-committee  have  reported  to  us,  That  on  the  4th  day  of  December  last, 
Mr.  Running  was  directed  to  prepare  the  plans  on  the  enlarged  scale  required  by  the  Act  of 
Parliament,  in  order  that  they  might  be  transmitted  to  the  Secretary  of  State  for  approval. 

"  '  That  Mr.  Running  was  also  directed  to  prepare  and  submit  an  estimate  of  the  expense 
of  erecting  the  building,  that  the  same  might  be  reported  to  the  Courts  of  Aldermen  and 
Common  Coimcil. 

*' '  That  the  sub-committee  had  since  received  such  estinmte,  amounting  to  about  the 
sum  of  £80,000. 

*' '  That  Mr.  Running  having  submitted  the  large  plans  to  the  Secretary  of  State, 
agreeably  to  the  instructions  given  to  him,  had  since  laid  before  the  sub-committee  a  letter 
from  Mr.  PhiUipps,  returning  the  same  with  the  approval  of  Sir  George  Grey  certified 
thereon,  together  with  certain  suggestions  contained  in  a  memorandum  drawn  up  by  Colonel 
Jcbb,  the  Inspector-General  of  Prisons  (as  to  certain  details  of  the  prison  arrangements). 

"  <  That  the  sub-committee  had  considered  and  approved  of  the  suggestions  Nos.  I,  2,  3, 
and  4,  in  the  memorandum.' " 

On  the  26th  September,  1849,  the  first  stone  of  the  new  prison  was  laid  by  the  Bight 

Honourable  Sir  James  Duke,  Lord  Mayor,  assisted  by  David  Williams  Wire,  Esq.,  Chainoin 

of  the  Prison  Committee  of  the  Court  of  Common  Council,  and  Alderman  Challis,  Chainnaa 

of  the  Jail  Committee  of  the  Court  of  Aldermen,  and  the  building  was  finished  in  1852. 

The  daily  average  number  of  prisoners  for  the  past  year  •  •        843 

The  greatest  number  at  any  one  time  during  the  year  •  •        d89 


HOUSE  OP  COEEECTION,  HOLLOWAT. 


539 


STATE  OV  SXFENDITTTBB  IS  DELATION  TO  THB  EBECnOlT  09  A  KEW  EOUSB  OF  COBRECII^X  FOB  THE 

CITZ  OF  LOKDON,  AT  HOLLOWAT. 

By  contract  for  Building 
„  formation  of  Sewer 
„  sinking  Artesian  Well 
„  Iron  Tanks,  Water-closets,  Batlis,  etc 
,,  Warming  and  Ventilation 
^  Tarpanlins 
f,  Pomps  and  Apparatus 
„  Gas  Pittings 
fy  Stoves 

„  Locks,  Latches,  Bolts,  Bells,  etc. 
„  Clerk  of  the  Works 
„  Trees,  Shrubs,  Plants 
„  Interest  on  Temporary  Loans 
y.  Law  Expenses 

„  Books,  Stationery,  and  Printing 
„  Miscellaneous  Expenditure 

Balance     • 


£.           9, 

d. 

77,890  7 

2 

975  0 

0 

1,300  0 

0 

3,245  12 

1 

3,541  3 

0 

84  4 

7 

565  0 

0 

899  9 

10 

117  16 

0 

504  5 

0 

1,615  11 

1 

64  14 

0 

61  4 

0 

143  1 

7 

19  19 

0 

520  3 

4 

91,547  10 

8 

1,152  9 

4 

92,700  0 

0 

The  Interior  of  Sollovcay  PrUon, 

As  we  approached  the  outer  gate  of  the  prison  by  the  enclosed  entry  flanked  on  our 
light  hand  by  the  chaplain's  house,  and  on  our  left  by  that  of  the  governor,  both  uniform  in 
appearance  and  of  elegant  construction,  as  represented  in  the  engraving,  the  battlements 
and  lofty  tower  of  the  prison  rose  conspicuously  before  us,  reminding  us  of  some  noble 
castle  of  the  olden  feudal  times.  On  our  knocking  at  the  outer  iron  bolted  gate,  an  elderly 
modest-looking  officer  appeared  at  the  grating,  and  admitted  us  within  the  walls  of  the 
prison.  He  was  attired  in  the  prison  uniform,  consisting  of  a  surtout  and  trousers  of 
dark  blue  cloth  and  cap  with  peak,  with  a  dark  shining  leathern  belt,  from  which  was 
suspended  an  iron  chain  with  the  keys  of  the  prison  attached. 

We  were  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  governor,  who,  on  our  presenting  our  order 
from  the  visiting  magistrates,  introduced  us  to  Mr.  Clark,  chief  warder,  to  conduct  us  through 
the  interior  of  the  prison.  The  latter  had  a  gold-lace  band  round  his  cap,  and  his  uniform 
handsomely  embroidered  with  lace  to  distinguish  him  from  the  other  officers. 

•#•  The  Outer  Gate  and  Catirtyard.^-We  first  inspected  the  lodge  occupied  by  the  gate 
-warder,  consisting  of  a  small  room  on  each  side  of  the  gateway. 

The  one  on  the  right  hand  is  furnished  with  an  oaken  table,  and  a  large  oaken  case 
set  beside  the  wall  as  we  enter,  containing  an  assortment  of  rifles,  pistols,  cutlasses,  and 
bayonets,  tastefully  arranged.  Alongside  is  a  cupboard,  in  the  interior  of  which  is  a 
«eries  of  hooks  to  contain  the  keys  of  the  prison. 


640  THE  GEEAT  WOBU)  OF  ZOKDON. 

Over  the  mantel-piece  is  a  letter-bor,  where  letters  ore  deposited  to  be  wnt  to  tho  Post* 
ofBce  and  for  delivery  at  the  prison ;  opposite  to  it  is  a  time-indicator,  snrmonnted  by  a 
dial-plate.  On  the  wall  are  suspended  a  City  Almanack,  giving  a  list  of  all  the  different 
Courts,  and  a  list  of  tbe  magistrates  at  tbe  Central  Criminal  Court,  Guildhall,  and  the 
Mansion-house. 

The  chief  warder  called  our  attention  to  a  book  deposited  on  a  desk,  where  the  visitors 
to  the  prison  are  required  to  sign  their  names,  and  requested  us  to  enter  otir  name  in  it. 

The  desk  contained  a  visiting-book  for  the  prisoners'  friends ;  also  a  book  for  visitors 
who  have  received  orders  from  the  magistrates  to  visit  the  prisoners ;  another  for  solicitors 
who  visit  the  prison  ;,and  a  fourth  records  the  attendance  of  ladies  who  aid  female  prisoners 
on  their  liberation,  by  getting  them  into  institutions  or  providing  them  with  situations  in 
the  metropolis. 

The  gate  warder  handed  us  several  other  books ;  and  added,  '*  There  is  a  book  to  record 
the  visits  of  the  chaplain  and  surgeon  to  the  prison ;  also  a  book  to  note  the  labourers  and 
tradesmen  employed  within  the  establishment." 

He  farther  showed  us  a  volume  in  which  tho  vehicles  entering  the  prison  gate  are 
recorded,  with  the  numbers  of  the  cabs,  carriages,  etc. ;  and  the  non-resident  officers  attend- 
ance book,  specifying  the  precise  time  they  are  occupied  in  duty ;  and  one  containing  the 
names  of  the  male  and  female  prisoners,  alphabetically  arranged^  with  the  date  of  their 
discharge. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  a  cheerful  fire  was  burning  in  tho  grate,  with  a  comfortable  rag 
on  the  hearth,  and  a  neat  cocoa-nut  mat  at  the  door,  made  by  the  prisoners.  There  are 
several  bells  here ;  one  communicating  with  the  reception  ward,  another  with  the  chaplain's 
house,  and  a  third  with  that  of  the  governor. 

We  proceeded  to  the  small  room  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  archway,  where  the  warder 
at  the  gate  generally  sits  and  takes  his  meals,  while  the  one  we  left  is  generally  occupied  as 
his  ofSce.  This  small  apartment  in  construction  and  dimensions  is  exactly  similar  to  the 
other  we  have  already  described,  and  is  neatly  ftimished  with  an  oaken  table  and  several 
oaken  chairs.  There  is  here  a  comfortable  fireplace,  and  gas  jet,  and  also  a  bell  communicating 
with  the  governor's  house.  On  the  wall  is  affixed  a  copy  of  the  Kules  relating  to  the  treat- 
ment and  conduct  of  the  prisoners. 

Leaving  the  porter's  lodge  we  enter  the  pointed  arch,  which  is  thirteen  feet  in  breadth, 
and  twenty-nine  in  length,  and  at  the  upper  extremity  sixteen  feet  high.  The  chief 
warder  called  our  attention  to  the  outer  folding-gate  of  the  prison,  about  eleven  feet  square. 
It  is  composed  of  solid  oak  four  inches  thick,  riveted  with  strong  bolts  of  iron,  with  a  small 
iron  grating  about  eight  inches  square,  occasionally  closed  with  a  wooden  trap. 

There  is  also  a  narrow  wicket  gate  in  one  of  the  folds  of  the  large  gate  for  the  ingress 
and  egress  of  the  visitors,  which  is  fastened,  as  in  the  ease  of  the  large  gate,  v^'ith  a  patent 
lock.   The  top  of  the  arch  over  the  prison  gale  is  fenced  with  strong  massive  iron  bars. 

The  chief  warder  has  a  suite  of  apartments  over  the  porter's  lodge  j  consisting  of  akitchen^ 
pantry,  parlour,  two  bed-rooms,  with  scullery,  sink,  and  water-closet  attached. 

Leaving  the  porter's  lodge  we  enter  the  courtyard,  where  the  prison  has  a  very  imposing 
appearance,  with  its  castellated  front,  and  the  lofty  wide  extended  range  of  buildings  fonning 
the  female  wing  on  our  right,  and  the  juvenile  wing  on  our  lelt  hand,  each  consisting  ol  throe 
floors. 

The  porch  of  the  prison  with  the  inner  gate  projects  a  considerable  way  from  the  main 
building  in  front  as  seen  in  one  of  the  engravings,  and  the  pillar  on  each  side  is  surmountod 
by  a  large  winged  griffin  rampant  facing  the  doorway.  One  of  them  has  a  key  in  ooeof  his 
talons,  and  a  large  dark  leg-iron  in  the  other.  And  the  other  has  one  of  his  talons  extended 
as  though  he  were  aiming  lo  seize  hold  of  his  prey,  while  the  other  clasps  a  set  of  massivG 
leg-irons. 


HOUSE  OE  COEKECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  541 

The  court-yard  in  front  of  the  prison  Ib  neatly  gravelled  and  carefully  drained,  and 
bordered  with  flowers  and  shrubs,  such  as  wallflower,  hollyhock,  and  evergreens  of  different 
kinds.  At  the  back  of  the  lodge,  on  each  side  of  the  arch,  is  a  small  grotto,  ingeniously 
erected  by  the  gate- warder,  with  a  miniature  fortification  beside  one  of  them. 

*»•  Office,  cells,  etc.  of  the  JReception-ward.'-We  were  admitted  by  the  inner  warder,  an 
intelligent  Scotchman,  into  the  main  prison.  On  entering  by  the  wicket-gate,  similar  to  the 
one  in  the  outer  lodge,  already  described,  we  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  hall,  beneath  the 
glaeed  roof  of  the  porch,  which  sloped  upward  towards  the  lofty  turrets  in  front  of  the  prison. 
The  reoeption  ward  is  situated  on  the  basement;  and  an  ample  stone  staircase,  on  the  right 
hand  of  the  reception  ward,  leads  to  the  central  hall  and  the  corridors  of  the  adult 
prison.  The  staircase  is  enclosed  by  a  massive  chiselled  stone  balustrade,  which  extends 
across  the  hall  above,  on  the  first  floor,  in  the  direction  of  the  oflice  of  the  clerk  and 
storekeeper,  and  elegantly  fences  the  extremity  of  the  wide  passage  entering  into  the 
main  prison. 

The  hall  of  the  reception  ward  on  the  basement  is  about  forty-eight  feet  in  length  and 
twenty-one  in  breadth,  with  cocoa-nut  matting,  leading  to  the  reception  warder's  office  on  the 
left  hand,  and  to  the  reception  cells  in  front. 

"We  accompanied  the  reception  warder  into  his  office,  about  eighteen  feet  by  fifteen :  a 
comfortable  apartment,  well  lighted  and  ventilated,  provided  with  several  writing-desks, 
like  a  lawyer's  office,  suited  for  four  clerks,  surmounted  with  brass  fittings,  on  which  the 
books  of  the  prison  are  conveniently  deposited,  with  a  gas-jet  over  it.  On  a  eide-table 
several  books  were  laid.  "  Here,"  said  the  reception  warder,  opening  a  lai^e  book,  "  is  the 
register  in  which  we  enter  the  descriptions  of  the  male  prisoners,  and  there  is  a  similar 
one  for  female  prisoners.  There  is  another  book,  termed  the  clothing  and  trinket  book,  in 
which  a  record  is  kept  of  the  various  articles  belonging  to  the  prisoners ;  and  here  is  an 
index  to  them." 

Pointing  to  standard  measures,  which  stood  near  to  the  window,  "There,"  said  the 
warder,  "  we  take  the  height  of  the  various  prisoners,  and  also  their  weight." 

The  office  of  the  reception  warder  is  floored  with  wood,  and  arched  with  brick,  supported 
by  iron  girders.  The  walls  are  painted  of  a  light  colour  and  tastefully  pencilled  to  resemble 
large  carefully  hewn  blocks  of  stone,  as  in  the  outer  walls  of  the  reception  ward. 

There  are  two  bells  here;  one  of  them  communicating  with  the  front  gate,  and  the  other 
"With  the  reception  or  inner  gate.  The  windows  are  secured,  on  the  exterior,  with  strong 
iron  bars. 

"We  then  proceeded  along  the  hall  of  the  reception  ward.  At  the  farther  extremity, 
before  we  reached  the  cells,  we  observed  a  narrow  metal  grating  extending  across  from  the 
one  side  of  the  floor  to  the  other,  which  contained  hot-air  pipes.  **  This  hot-air  flue,"  said  the 
chief  warder,  **  extends  along  the  centre  of  the  reception  ward,  and  gives  warmth  to  the 
various  cells.  It  extends  to  the  female  wing  on  the  right  hand,  and  to  the  juvenile  wing  on 
the  left." 

There  is  a  board  over  the  door  leading  to  the  reception  ward,  intimating  that  **  Silence  is 
to  be  strictly  observed  "  by  the  prisoners. 

The  reception  warder  told  us  that  the  dark  passage  on  the  left  led  to  the  juvenile,  and  that 
on  the  right  to  the  female  branch  of  the  prison,  passing  through  an  archway  between  them 
on  each  side ;  over  which  was  another  communication  from  the  main  passage  on  the  floor 
above.  At  the  farther  end  of  the  reception  hall  there  is  a  tap  to  draw  water  for  the  use  of 
tho  ward,  and  a  water-closet  adjoining. 

"We  entered  the  apartment  contuining  the  prisoners*  own  clothing,  on  the  right  side  of  tho 
reception  ward.  There  we  found  a  large  quantity  of  prisoners'  garments  carefully  packed  in 
bandies  and  deposited  in  racks  around  the  walls;  arranged  according  to  their  sentencesi  each 


642  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

of  them  labelled  unth  the  name,  register,  number,  and  sentence  of  each.  There  is  a  stove 
for  the  airing  of  the  clothes  in  the  centre  of  the  room. 

Many  of  the  bundles  contained  ragged  and  soiled  clothing,  mth  a  large  proportion  of  re- 
spectable and  fashionable  garments.  **  Some  bundles,''  said  the  warder,  **  belong  to  rogoeB  and 
yagabonds,  pickpockets  and  burglars,  others  to  sailors  and  soldiers.  "We  have  several  re- 
turned convicts  imprisoned  for  picking  pockets,  and  for  receiving  stolen  property.  A  good 
number  of  the  prisoners  have  been  clerks  in  lawyers'  offices,  and  travellers  and  warehouse- 
men in  commercial  houses,  brought  here  for  embezzling  their  masters*  property ;  and  some 
have  been  in  good  position  in  society,  and  are  now  under  sentence  for  fraudulent  bankruptcy. 
In  addition  to  these,  we  have  many  tradesmen  and  mechanics  for  various  offences.  £ome  of 
the  prisoners  have  been  convicted  for  uttering  base  coin,  others  for  lead-stealing,  some  for 
swindling,  and  many  for  petty  felonies." 

^  At  present,"  said  the  reception  warder,  "  a  good  deal  of  the  prisoners'  clothing  re- 
quires to  be  fumigated.  I  attribute  this  to  the  fact  that  a  great  mass  of  people  are  at 
present  out  of  employment,  and  many  are  driven  to  the  low  lodging-houses  of  the  metro- 
polis for  shelter.  Many  of  our  prisoners  are  covered  with  vermin,  and  in  a  most  deplorable 
condition.  A  great  number  of  them  have  very  respectable  clothing,  which  does  not  require 
to  be  fumigated.  We  generally  find  the  most  expert  thieves  are  respectably  attired,  and 
cleanly  in  their  persons." 

There  is  a  small  apartment  adjoining  this  store-room,  where  the  prisoners'  clothes  are 
fumigated. 

We  passed  on  through  a  door  at  the  extremity  of  Ihe  reception  hall,  fh>nting  the  hmer 
gate  of  the  prisop,  to  the  reception  cells.  This  door  has  plate-glass  inserted  into  the  iqiper 
panels,  which  gives  the  interior  a  more  cheerful  appearance.  The  passage  between  the  cells 
is  sixty-nine  feet  in  leugth,  and  a  portion  of  it  twenty-one  feet  in  breadth  and  about  ten 
feet  in  height;  the  remainder  being  as  narrow  as  ten  feet. 

The  Bath-room  of  this  ward  is  on  our  left  hand.  It  is  about  twenty  feet  long,  nine 
feet  wide,  and  ten  feet  in  height,  at  the  top,  and  nine  feet  at  the  bottom  of  the  arch.  There 
are  two  baths  in  this  room,  separated  from  each  other  by  a  wooden  partition.  They  are 
comfortable  and  commodious,  and  are  supplied  with  hot  water  from  a  cistern  in  the  furnace- 
room,  and  with  cold  water  from  a  tank  at  the  roof  of  the  prison. 

Adjoining  the  bath-room  is  a  small  store  of  prtaon-made  clothing,  carefully  arranged  on 
the  shelves,  consisting  of  dark  gray  jackets,  vests,  and  trousers,  with  braces,  stocks^  and 
shoes.  There  is  also  a  large  chest-of-drawers  containing  linen,  stockings,  flannel-shirts,  and 
drawers,  etc.  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners.  The  walls  of  the  bath-room  are  tastefully  pencilled, 
similar  to  the  office  of  the  reception  warder.  It  is  provided  with  a  flreplace  to  air  the  gar- 
ments, and  a  cocoa-nut  matting  in  the  centre  of  the  floor,  for  the  comfort  of  the  prisoDexs 
when  undressed. 

We  followed  the  chief  warder  into  one  of  the  reception  cells,  which  was  thirteen  feet  long 
and  seven  feet  wide,  and  nine  feet  at  the  bottom,  and  nine  feet  six  inches  at  the  top  of  the 
arch.  It  is  ventilated  by  a  grating  over  the  door,  connected  with  hot-air  flues,  extended 
throughout  the  building,  and  also  by  a  trap  in  the  window.  The  window  of  the  cell  is 
three  feet  six  inches  wide,  and  eighteen  inches  high,  slightly  rounded  at  the  top,  as  seen  in 
the  engraving. 

<<  The  frimiture  of  the  cell,"  said  the  reception  warder,  '^  consists  of  a  small  deal  tabic, 
attached  to  the  right-hand  side  of  the  cell,"  which  he  folded  down,  like  the  leaf  of  a 
table ;  "  also  a  water-closet,  fixed  into  one  of  the  farther  comers  of  the  ccU,  which  has  a 
wooden  lid,  and  serves  as  a  seat  to  the  prisoner;  a  wash-hand  basin  and  a  tub  for  wadiing 
the  feet." 

Above  the  tabic  is  a  gas-jet^  over  which  the  prisoner  has  no  controL    The  chief  waider 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  543 

observed,  "It  is  lit  at  dusk,  and  extingxdslied  at  nine  o'clock  at  night,  when  the  prisoners 
retire  to  rest," 

A  copy  of  the  rules  and  regulations  of  the  prison,  and  of  the  dietary,  are  suspended  in 
each  cell,  so  that  the  prisoners  may  know  how  to  conduct  themselves. 

On  the  right-hand  comer,  beside  the  door,  are  three  small  triangular  shelves.  The 
bedding,  rolled  firmly  up  and  fastened  with  two  leathern  straps,  is  generally  laid  on  the  upper 
one ;  containing  a  pair  of  blankets,  a  rug,  a  pair  of  sheets,  a  horse-hair  mattress,  and  a  pillow, 
which,  at  night,  are  put  into  a  hammock,  suspended  on  two  strong  iron  hooks  on  each  side 
of  the  cell.  "  On  the  second  shelf,"  added  the  governor,  who  had  just  entered  the  cell,  "is 
a  plate,  together  with  a  tin  jug  for  gruel,  a  wooden  salt-cellar,  and  a  wooden  spoon.  On  the 
lower  shelf  are  deposited  a  Bible,  prayer-book,  and  hymn-book ;  two  combs  and  a  brush,  a 
cocoa-nut  fibre  rubber  for  polishing  the  floor,  and  underneath  the  lower  shelf  is  a  small 
drawer,  containing  the  materials  for  cleaning  the  window  of  the  cell. 

"  On  the  right-hand  side  of  the  door,"  continued  the  governor,  "  there  is  a  small  handle, 
of  easy  access  to  the  prisoner,  by  which  he  is  able  to  ring  at  any  moment  when  he  requires 
the  attendance  of  an  officer."  This  handle  communicates  with  a  bell  outside,  which  is  in 
hearing  of  the  officer  in  charge.  On  the  officer  coming  to  the  door  of  the  cell  he  opens 
this  wooden  trap,  which  is  about  nine  inches  by  seven. 

"  Above  the  trap  is,  you  observe,"  said  the  governor,  "  a  small  circular  inspection  opening, 
covered  with  glass  on  the  exterior  and  fine  wire  in  the  interior,  by  which  the  officer  can 
inspect  the  c'ell  from  the  outside,  without  the  knowledge  of  the  prisoner.  After  six  o'clock 
in  the  evening  the  officers  put  on  list  shoes,  so  that  they  are  able  to  patrol  the  corridors  in 
silence,  and  the  prisoner  is  not  aware  when  he  is  visited." 

The  walls  of  the  reception  cells,  like  those  in  the  corridors  above,  are  whitewashed. 
There  are  six  altogether,  ranged  on  both  sides  of  the  ward.  In  the  wide  passage  be- 
tween these  cells  we  saw  a  number  of  ladders,  placed  along  the  wall  on  our  right  hand, 
which  are  used  in  cleaning  the  windows  and  repairing  the  prison.  On  a  stand  in  the  centre, 
is  a  long  ladder,  set  on  wheels,  resembling  a  fire-escape.  We  were  informed  it  is  used  for 
cleaning  the  windows  in  the  upper  galleries  of  the  prison. 

There  is  a  wooden  machine  in  the  same  ward,  to  which  boys  are  fastened  when  whipped 
by  order  of  the  magistrates.     The  governor  observed  to  us,  "  I  am  happy  to  record  that  na 
prisoner  has  been  flogged  in  this  pnson  for  prison  oflences  for  the  last  ten  years,  since  its  open-  • 
ing.    Kone  have  been  punished  except  those  ordered  by  the  magistrates  at  the  police  courts." 

%•  DiseTiarge  of  Friaoners, — ^We  accompanied  the  governor  to  the  office  of  the  reception 
warder,  as  a  party  of  prisoners  were  about  to  be  liberated  on  the  expiry  of  their  sentence. 
They  stood  ranked  up  in  single  file  in  the  reception  hall.    They  were  conducted  separately 
into  the  presence  of  the  governor,  chief  warder,  and  Mr.  Keene,  the  clerk  and  keeper  of  the- 
stores.     The  first  prisoner  brought  in  was  a  little  Irish  lad,  with  strongly  marked  Hibernian, 
features,  who  was  accosted  thus : — 

Governor.  Boy,  have  you  any  finends  to  receive  you  when  you  leave  the  prison  ? 

Boy.  My  mother  lives  in  town,  and  my  sisters  are  feather-strippers. 

Gov.  Were  you  ever  in  prison  before  ? 

Boy.  No. 

Gov.  What  was  it  which  induced  you  to  commit  this  felony  ? 

Boy.  I  got  into  bad  company,  who  enticed  me  away  from  my  mother's  house. 

G(yv.  Where  did  you  go  after  this  ? 

Boy.  I  lived  in  a  lodging-house;  in  Flowef  and  Dean  Street. 

Gov.  How  old  are  you,  boy  ? 

Boy.  I  am  eleven  years  old,  and  was  never  in  prison  before. 

Gov.  Had  you  any  shoes  when  you  came  to  prison  ? 
40 


-544  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LOiS^DOISr. 

Boi/.  I  had  a  pair  of  old  shoes,  without  soles. 

The  governor  thereupon  ordered  one  of  the  officers  to  provide  him  with  a  pair  of  shoes 
and  stockings,  on  heing  discharged  from  custody.  * 

The  lad  was  conducted  back  to  the  reception  hall,  and  another  prisoner,  a  plain-1ookin«^ 
lad,  about  twelve  years  of  age,  was  introduced  into  the  presence  of  the  governor.  He  was 
dressed  in  shabby  fustian  trousers,  a  dark  jacket,  and  light  coloured  neckerchicfl  He  was 
charged  with  intent  to  steal. 

Gov,  Have  you  learned  any  business  ? 

Bo^f.  I  was  for  a  time  working  in  a  painter's  shop. 

Gov.  Are  you  to  keep  out  of  bad  company  for  the  fixture  P 

j5oy.  Tes.    I  should  like  to  go  to  sea. 

The  governor  inquired  of  the  chief  warder  the  particular  nature  of  the  charge  brought 
against  him,  when  the  latter  stat^id  it  was  for  attempting. to  steal  a  handkerchief. 

Gov.  (addressing  the  boy).  Did  you  steal  any  on  former  occasions  ? 

Bay,  I  took  twelve  before,  and  sold  them  in  Petticoat  Lane. 

Gov.  "What  did  you  get  for  them  ? 

Boy,  Sometimes  I  have  got  as  high  as  1«.  6d,  for  some,  and  at  other  times  only  2 J. 

Gov.  How  did  you  spend  your  money  ? 

Boy.  I  paid  Zd.  a  night  for  my  lodging  when  I  was  able,  and  sometimes  lived  with 
my  mother.  I  spent  money  gambling  with  other  boys,  and  was  often  chastised  by  my 
mother  for  sleeping  out. 

A  young  man,  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  of  a  palo  thin  countenance,  with  a  bine  vacant 
eye,,  evidently  of  imbecile  mind,  was  led  into  the  reception  warder's  office.  He  stated  be 
had  been  occasionally  employed  to  drive  cattle,  that  his  father  was  dead,  and  his  mother  was 
•married  again  to  a  soldier.  He  said  that  he  was  not  right  in  his  head  when  he  came  into 
the  prison,  and  had  slept  several  nights  in  sheds  before  he  was  arrested,  and  that  he  frequently 
bad  no  bed  to  sleep  in. 

He  was  brought  to  the  prison  in  a  disgusting  condition,  covered  with  rags  and  vCTmin. 
The  governor  told  the  warder  to  give  him  some  clothes,  and  desired  him  to  keep  himself 
clean.  He  advised  him  to  go  to  the  union  to  sleep  when  he  had  no  money  to  pay  for  a 
night's  lodging.  The  prisoner  replied,  **  he  would  rather  stay  out  at  night  than  go  to  iht 
imion."  The  poor  lad  stated  he  had  no  Mend  in  the  world  to  take  an  interest  in  him^  and 
thanked  the  governor  for  his  kindness.  He  had  been  imprisoned  for  a  petty  felony,  no 
doubt  caused  by  his  utter  destitution. 

A  smart  young  man,  of  about  nineteen  years,  beneath  the  middle  size,  a  costermonger, 
who  had  been  tried  for  having  a  squabble  with  the  police,  and  who  contrasted  favourably 
with  the  lad  that  had  just  retired,  was  led  before  the  governor.  He  stated,  in  answer  to 
•the  interrogatories,  that  he  was  of  Irish  descent — ^his  parents  having  belonged  to  the  county 
-of  Xerry^that  his  mother  was  dead,  and  his  father  was  an  invalid.  He  keeps  house  witli 
his  sister,  a  young  girl  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age. 

"We  were  present  on  another  occasion,  when  a  number  of  prisoners  were  discharged.  Qno 
of  them  was  a  young  man,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  of  dark,  sallow  complexion,  with  a 
long  sharp  face,  and  Irish  features,  charged  with  intent  to  steal. 

Gov.  Have  you  any  friends  in  London  ? 

The  prisoner  sighed,  held  down  his  head  mournfully,  and  said  nothing. 

Gov.  What  are  you  to  do  to-day  ? 

The  prisoner  stood  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  made  no  reply. 

The  governor,  turning  to  the  clerk  and  storekeeper,  told  him  to  give  the  prisoner  a 
shilling. 

Gov.  (looking  to  the  prisoner).  Are  you  willing  to  work  in  future  for  an  honist 
livelihood  'c 


HOUSE  OF  COKEECTION,  HOLLOWAT.  645 

Pris.  I  work  here,  and  do  not  see  how  I  should  not  work  outside. 

Another  prisoner  was  introduced,  a  thin,  tall  young  man,  with  a  finely  formed  hroad 
hrow,  an  open  intelligent  countenance,  and  curly  hair,  attired  in  a  decent  dark  dress,  with 
a  Telvet  neck  to  his  coat. 

Gov,  (addressing  the  prisoner).  You  are  a  smart  young  man,  and  might  enlist  in  the  army. 

Pm.  I  cannot  he  admitted  into  the  army,  as  I  am  ruptured. 

Gov,  Have  you  learned  to  read  ? 

Prts,  Yes, 

Gov.  You  work  well  here,  and  might  he  industrious  outside. 

Fn's.  (smiling).  I  have  to  work  here.  (After  a  pause  he  added).  But  who  will  give  me 
work  when  I  am  out  of  prison? 

Gov,  You'll  get  work  if  you  earnestly  try  to  find  it.  Will  you  promise  that  you  will  do 
what  yon  can  to  lead  an  honest,  industrious  life  ? 

Pm.  I'U  try. 

Gov,  Have  you  any  money  ? 

Pm.  No,  sir.  I  do  not  know  what  to  do.  I  have  no  money,  and  have  no  Mends  to 
assist  me. 

Gov,  I  shall  give  you  something  to  assist  you  for  the  present ;  hut  rememher  (eyeing  the 
prisoner  keenly),  do  not  come  hack  to  me  again. 

The  prisoner  gave  him  a  military  salute  and  retired. 

A  middle-aged  man,  a  bricklayer,  in  light  working  dress,  was  ushered  in.  He  was  a 
robust  man,  with  high  narrow  forehead,  clear  gentle  eye,  carroty  whiskers,  and  intelligent 
iiountenance,  and  was  charged  with  stealing  26  lbs.  of  lead. 

In  answer  to  the  interrogatories  of  tho  governor,  he  stated  that  he  had  a  wife  and  six 
•children — had  never  been  in  prison  before — was  not  constantly  in  work  out  of  doors,  and 
had  stolen  the  lead,  to  prevent  his  family  from  starving.  He  had  the  appearance  of  an 
honest  man ;  and  the  expression  of  his  countenance  was  clear  and  ingenuous.  The  govcmor 
gave  him  28.  Sd.,  and  warned  him  not  to  be  guilty  of  crime  in  future. 

Another  prisoner,  introduced  into  the  office  of  the  reception  warder,  was  a  tall,  middle- 
aged  man,  with  a  grey  wig,  long  thin  face,  high  narrow  forehead,  and  clear  callous-looking 
eye — ^very  like  an  old  offender.  He  was  neatly  dressed  in  a  dark  tweed  suit,  and  stood  erect, 
with  his  great-coat  on  his  arm.  ^ 

Chv.  (turning  his  eye  on  him).  Were  you  ever  here  before  ? 

Fris.  I  never  saw  you  in  my  life  before. 

After  a  pause,  the  prisoner  turned  round  and  gave  an  angry  glance  at  the  chief  warder. 

Chief  Warder  (addressing  him).  You  look  very  hard  at  me. 

As  he  left  the  office,  the  governor  remarked  to  us,  ^*  That  man  is  one  of  the  most  expert 
thieves  in  London,  and  a  trainer  of  thieves." 

A  dark-complexioned,  decent-looking  man  was  then  brought  in.  He  was  attired  in 
corduroy  trousers,  brown  vest  and  silk  stock,  and  had  a  blue  great-coat  on  his  arm,  and 
had  been  convicted  of  having  deserted  his  wife  and  five  children. 

Gov.  I  am  sorry  to  see  a  man  like  you  here.    Have  you  learned  any  trade  ? 

Pm.  I  am  a  labourer,  and  have  no  trade.  I  was  working  at  a  pin-manufactory  before  I 
was  brought  here,  and  have  often  been  out  of  work  during  this  year,  and  my  goods  have 
been  seized  for  arrears  of  rent. 

Gov.  You  had  a  moustache  when  you  came  here ;  and  £rom  your  general  appearance,  I 
fear  you  are  addicted  to  keeping  company  with  other  females  besides  your  wife.  I  hope 
you  will  not  desert  your  wife  any  more. 

Another  prisoner  was  brought  in.  He  was  a  good-looking  smart  young  man,  of  about 
twenty- three  years  of  age,  with  blooming  complexion,  and  fashionably  attired :  a  pickpocket, 
charged  with  intent  to  steal  a  watch. 


646  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OE  LONDON. 

Gov.  Young  man,  what  are  you  to  do  when  you  are  liherated  ? 

Fris.  I  don't  know. 

Gov.  Have  you  a  home  ? 

Tris.  Yes. 

Oov,  What  trade  or  calling  does  your  father  pursue  ? 

Fris.  He  is  a  painter. 

Oov.  "What  is  your  occupation  ? 

Fris.  I  have  not  learned  any  trade.     I  am  troubled  with  a  weak  chest. 

Oov,  Have  you  no  means  of  honest  livelihood  ? 

Fris.  I  learned  mat-making  here  four  years  ago ;  but  have  no  cliaracter  to  get  employ- 
ment. 

Gov.  Is  your  father  a  respectable  man  ? 

Fris.  Yes.     I  must  lead  a  different  life  than  I  have  been  doing  for  some  time  past. 

Gov,  How' were  you  led  into  crime? 

Fris.  Bad  company  enticed  me  away. 

Gov.  Does  your  father  know  where  you  are  ? 

Fris,  Yes. 

Gov.  Have  any  of  your  friends  visited  you  since  you  were  here  ? 

Fris,  Yes. 

After  being  examined  separately  by  the  governor,  in  presence  of  the  chief  warder  and  the 
clerk  of  the  prison,  the  prisoners  were  conducted  by  the  reception  warder  to  the  porter  at 
the  outer  gate  (who  was  furnished  with  a  list  of  their  names  by  the  clerk),  when  they  were 
liberated  irom.  prison. 

"We  wat<5hed  the  last  company  discharged  leave  the  gate  of  the  prison.  They  proceeded 
a  short  distance  with  the  measured  tread  and  regular  order  of  prison  discipline,  wheu  they 
began  to  disperse — some  of  them  going  in  the  direction  of  the  City,  and  the  others  bending 
their  steps  to  the  public-house  opposite. 

*#*  Mode  of  Receiving  (he  Frisoners, — In  answer  to  our  inquiries,  the  reception  warder 
stated,  the  prisoners  are  always  conveyed  to  the  prison  in  a  van,  escorted  by  officers. 
This  is  generally  done  in  the  afternoon,  after  the  sittings  of  the  police-courts.  They  are 
forthwith  admitted  into  the  reception  ward,  where  they  are  received  by  the  governor  or  the 
chief  warder,  who  ascertains  if  the  warrants  and  the  prisoners  correspond.  They  are  then 
committed  to  the  custody  of  the  reception  warder,  and  placed  in  the  reception  cells,  in  their 
own  clothing.  They  are  afterwards  taken  £x>m  the  cells  separately  and  examined  by  the 
reception  warder  in  his  office. 

A  minute  description  of  their  person  is  taken,  giving  their  name,  age,  height,  weight, 
complexion,  colour  of  hair,  tho  colour  of  their  eyes,  whether  of  stout  or  slender  make,  their 
religion,  state  of  instruction,  whether  married  or  single,  whether  they  have  any  children, 
and  if  so,  how  many,  the  parish  and  country  where  bom,  the  place  of  their  last  residence, 
trade  or  occupation,  the  magistrate  who  committed  them,  whether  from  the  Central  Criminal 
Court,  the  Mansion  House,  or  Guildhall,  their  offence,  their  sentence,  the  expiration  of  their 
sentence,  and  other  remarks. 

In  this  description  of  the  prisoner,  particular  notice  is  taken  of  the  marks  on  his  body, 
such  as  if  he  has  wounds,  or  scars,  or  inkmarks,  or  is  pitted  with  small-pox,  etc. 

After  having  passed  this  examination,  the  prisoners  are  separately  removed  to  their 
respective  cells.  They  are  then  taken  by  the  reception  warder  into  the  bath  and  dressing- 
room,  where  their  haii*  is  cut  according  to  sentence.  They  are  here  stripped  of  their  oun  gar- 
ments. A  particular  account  of  each  separate  article  is  taken  in  the  clothing  and  property 
book,  kept  for  the  purpose,  where  the  prisoner  sees  it  carefully  entered,  and  signs  his  nAue 
to  attest  its  being  correct. 


HOUSE  OF  CORRECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  547 

This  book  is  sigaed  by  the  officer  who  receives  the  articles,  aal  by  the  prisoner  on  his 
discharge,  when  the  property  received  is  returned  to  him. 

These  articles  are  carefully  arranged  and  examined  by  the  reception  warder,  and  made  up 
into  bundles,  with  the  names  of  the  prisoners,  their  numbers,  and  sentences  attached,  and  arc 
carefully  deposited  on  the  rack  in  the  storeroom. 

When,  upon  examination,  any  of  the  clothing  taken  from  the  prisoners  is  found  to  be  un- 
clean, it  is  placed  in  a  fumigating-stove,  and  thoroughly  cleansed  from  vermin  and  infection. 

The  prisoners  are  taken  from  thence  into  the  bath-room,  where  they  are  thoroughly 
cleansed  in  a  warm  bath,  and  then  removed  into  the  dressing-room  adjoining,  where  they 
are  supplied  with  an  entire  suit  of  prison  clothing.  They  are  afterwards  removed  to  the 
reception  cells,  where  they  remain  till  the  following  morning,  when  they  are  taken  by  the 
reception  warder  into  his  office,  and  the  prison  rules  are  read  and  explained  to  them. 

They  are  examined  by  the  medical  officer  in  the  office  of  the  reception  warder,  who  certi- 
fies as  to  their  state  of  health,  and  notice  is  taken  of  any  ailment  under  which  they  may  be 
labouring,  which  is  duly  entered.  The  medical  officer  decides  as  to  their  ability  to  perform 
the  labour  enjoined  in  their  sentence. 

The  prisoners  are  again  placed  in  the  reception  cells,  where  they  are  carefully  visited 
by  the  governor  in  his  daily  inspection  of  the  prisoners,  after  which  they  are  removed  into 
the  body  of  the  prison,  to  undergo  their  sentence.  They  are  then  committed  to  the  care  of 
the  principal  warder  in  charge  at  the  central  hall,  when  they  are  again  examined  by  the 
chief  warder,  and  appointed  to  their  respective  cells  in  the  various  corridors. 

**  At  the  expiry  of  their  sentence,"  continued  the  reception  warder,  "they  are  placed 
in  the  reception  cells,  where  they  are  stripped  of  the  prison  clothing  and  their  own  garments 
are  returned  to  them.  They  are  weighed  in  the  weighing-machine,  and  their  weight  duly 
entered,  to  ascertain  if  they  have  gained  or  lost  during  their  imprisonment." 

They  are  afterwards  examined  by  the  governor  in  the  reception  office  in  the  manner  we 
have  recorded  in  the  presence  of  the  chief  warder  and  the  clerk  of  the  prison,  when  their 
case  is  carefully  considered,  and  clothing  and  money  given  to  them,  as  the  case  may  require. 
They  are  sometimes  sent  to  a  home  in  the  metropolis,  or  employment  is  found  for  them,  and 
an  outfit  supplied  at  the  expense  of  the  City. 

%•  Stares, — "We  were  introduced  to  'Mr,  C.  A.  Kecne,  the  clerk  and  steward,  who 
wished  us  to  inspect  his  stores  before  proceeding  to  the  main  prison. 

He  first  conducted  us  to  the  Clothing  Department,  situated  at  the  basement,  on  the  left  of 
the  female  prison,  in  close  proximity  to  the  kitchen.  This  apartment  is  twenty-four  feet 
long  and  twenty-one  feet  broad,  lighted  with  two  windows,  four  feet  ten  by  three  feet  six, 
the  panes  of  glass  being  set  in  iron  frames,  similar  to  those  in  the  other  cells.  It  is  floored 
with  wood,  and  roofed  with  brick  and  iron  girders,  the  walls  being  painted  of  a  light  colour, 
and  tastefully  pencilled  like  the  Eeception  Hall. 

On  the  right  hand  as  we  enter  is  a  number  of  presses  or  cupboards,  containing  male  and 
female  prison-clothing,  officers'  uniforms,  and  bedding,  systematically  arranged.  On  the  top 
of  these  presses  is  a  large  number  of  shining  tins  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners.  There  is  also 
a  chest  of  drawers,  with  small  goods,  such  as  needles,  thread,  and  ironmongery  ware,  and 
over  it  is  a  rack  covered  with  tins,  different  in  cizo  and  shape,  to  prevent  their  being  mixed 
together  in  the  various  branches  of  the  prison. 

On  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room  is  ranged  an  assortment  of  clothing  for  the  children 
of  the  Emmanuel  Hospital,  all  of  which  is  made  in  Holloway  Prison.  Their  dress  consists 
of  corduroy  trowsers  and  brown  jackets  and  vests. 

The  clothing  of  the  male  prisoners  consists  of  jackets,  vests,  and  trowsers,  of  gray  army 
cloth,  and  stocks,  braces,  and  caps.  The  caps  are  made  of  blue  indigo.dyed  worsted,  and 
the  atockings  of  a  gray  worsted,  knitted  by  tho  female  prisoners.     Shirts  of  red  striped 


548  THE  GREAT  WOELB  OF  LONDON. 

calico,  flannel  shirts  and  drawers  of  blue  striped  serge,  are  also  made  by  tbe  female  prisoners. 
These  are  systematically  arranged,  and  neatly  tied  ap  in  separate  bundles  of  a  dozen  each. 
There  is  also  a  considerable  store  of  shoes  of  the  same  quality,  sizes  from  two  to  ten — ^No. 
2  being  very  small,  and  No.  10  very  large. 

The  clothing  is  arranged  in  like  manner,  having  the  number  of  the  size  wrou^t  in.  The 
clothes  are  from  two  to  seven  sizes. 

The  female  clothing  consists  of  a  blue  gown  with  a  red  stripe ;  petticoats  made  of  linaey- 
woolsey ;  shifts  of  red  striped  calico,  the  same  material  as  the  men's  shirts;  and  neckerchief 
of  blue  check  of  a  large  pattern ;  the  linen  caps  are  similar  to  those  worn  in  workhouses; 
the  stockings  are  made  of  a  dark  blue  indigo-dyed  worsted,  similar  to  the  male  prisoners* 
caps ;  the  cloaks,  famished  with  hoods,  are  made  of  linsey-woolsey,  similar  to  the  petticoats. 

The  bedding  is  of  two  different  kinds,  for  the  infirmary  and  the  ordinary  cells.  The 
infirmary  bedding  consists  of  blue  and  white  check  coverlets  or  counterpanes,  such  as  are  used 
in  hospitals  in  the  metropolis ;  the  sheets  and  pillow-cases  are  made  of  blue  striped  calico ; 
the  blankets  are  of  substantial  quality,  white  and  dear  in  appearance,  bordered  witli  red 
stripes.  The  ordinary  bedding  for  the  cells  consists  of  a  hammock  made  of  strong  canvas,  a 
rug,  and  a  blanket,  the  latter  being  similar  to  that  used  in  the  infirmary,  with  sheets  and 
pillow-case  made  of  a  coarse  brown  material,  termed  *^  Forfeur  sheeting."  The  bed  is  made 
of  canvas  stuffed  with  coir  fibre. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  room  is  ez;posed  a  lai^e  quantity  of  shoes  made  for  the  boys  and 
girls  of  the  Emmanuel  Hospital. 

On  the  mantel-piece  is  a  large  number  of  wooden  salt-cellars,  turned  in  the  prison,  for  the 
use  of  the  prisoners. 

Leaving  this  storeroom,  we  pass  through  a  courtyard  situated  on  the  left  of  the  female 
wing  leading  from  the  hrgesr  courtyard  in  front  of  the  prison,  behind  the  archway,  to  the 
kitchen.  Part  of  this  courtyard  adjoining  the  kitchen  is  covered  with  a  roof  of  fluted 
glass,  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  stores  that  require  to  be  weighed.  Here  we  found 
a  large  patent  weighing-machine  of  a  lever  description,  made  by  Short  and  Eanner,  of  St^ 
Hartin's-le-Grand.  It  is  considered  to  be  a  very  exact  and  valuable  instrument^  and  weighs 
from  half  a-pound  to  twenty-four  cwt. 

We  were  shown  into  the  Hardware  Store,  consisting  of  two  divisions.  One  of  these  con- 
tains a  large  number  of  iron  bedsteads  that  were  removed  from  the  old  prison  at  Oiltspur 
Street,  in  the  City  (the  Compter),  to  be  used  in  Holloway  Prison  when  neeessary.  There 
are  several  old  chests  of  drawers,  and  sundry  iron  fittings,  also  removed  from  the  old 
prison,  which  are  brought  into  use  here  as  occasion  may  require. 

On  entering  the  other  division,  we  found  a  large  drawing  of  one  of  the  huge  griffins  at 
the  entrance  of  the  prison.  This  storeroom  is  of  a  very  peculiar  shape,  and  is  situated  at 
the  basement  of  the  B  wing.  It  is  floored  partly  with  asphalte  and  partly  with  Yivk 
slab.  There  are  five  windows  ia  this  storeroom,  precisely  similar  to  those  ia  the  cells;  the 
panes  are  of  fluted  glass  set  in  an  iron  framework. 

On  the  left  hand  of  the  stair  there  are  racks  in  which  laige  quantities  of  brown  leather 
are  deposited  for  the  manufacture  of  boots  and  shoes,  with  a  considerable  stock  of  brushes 
of  various  kinds  carefully  arranged.  The  scrubbing-brushes  and  ceU-brushes  aie  made  by 
the  prisoners. 

There  is  a  large  pile  of  bars  of  soap  to  be  used  in  the  laundry,  and  in  deaning  the- 
prison,  and  large  wicker  baskets  lined  with  tin,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  away  the  dust 
and  rubbish  from  the  corridors  and  offices  of  the  prison.  Along  the  walls  are  placed  bread* 
baskets,  clothes-baskets,  and  other  articles  made  by  the  prisoners. 

Facing  the  doorway  are  two  large  chests  of  drawers  with  cupboards,  containing  locks  and 
general  fittings  of  cell-doors,  also  the  iron  tools  used  by  the  smiths  and  carpenters,  wooden 
spoons,  and  cocoa*nut  rubbers,  the  latter  being  used  for  polishing  the  asphalte  Aootb.    These 


HOUSE  OF  CdERECTIOK,  HOLLOWAY.  640r 

rubbers  arc  made  by  the  prisoners  from  the  cocoa-nut  busk,  and  are  found  to  be  very 
useful  in  cleaning  the  floors.  They  are  composed  of  the  busk  pegged  and  glued  together, 
nearly  in  the  form  of  a  cone,  of  a  convenient  size  for  the  band.  Samples  of  these  have 
been  got  by  many  governors  of  prisons,  with  the  view  of  adopting  tbem  in  their  own 
establishments. 

In  the  centre  of  this  storeroom  is  a  table  witb  a  pair  of  scales  for  weighing  blacklead, 
stxircb,  and  other  small  goods,  and  at  the  farther  end  are  arranged  quantities  of  soda,  wbiting, 
and  lampblack.  We  observed  a  considerable  number  of  water  closets,  sucb  as  those  used  in 
the  nrison  cells,  and  pieces  of  stone-pipe  used  in  the  draining  of  the  prison.  There  are  also 
large  oans  of  oils  used  £;>r  various  piurposes,  sucb  as  for  the  machinery  in  the  engine-room, 
the  treadwbeel,  and  the  pumps,  and  for  painting  the  waUs  of  the  prison,  together  with  a  large 
number  of  bundles  of  firewood. 

Mr.  Keene  particularly  called  our  attention  to  a  pile  of  white  bricks  used  for  cleaning 
hearthstones,  which  are  considered  to  be  very  economical.  Various  parties  have  taken 
specimens  of  them  for  the  use  of  public  buildings. 

We  then  accompanied  him  to  the  Provision  Store,  situated  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
kitchen,  on  the  right  band.  It  is  thirty-tbree  feet  long  and  fifteen  feet  broad,  being 
the  basement  of  four  cells.  This  apartment  contains  six  large  bins  of  oatmeal,  barley,  and 
cocoa.  At  the  end  of  the  storeroom  is  a  rack  for  the  reception  of  bread  when  received 
from  the  contractor,  previously  to  its  being  issued  to  the  cook.  On  the  right  hand  side 
are  four  dressers  built  in  a  recess,  and  on  one  of  them  are  deposited  several  large 
blocks  of  salt. 

Under  the  centre  arch  is  a  mill  for  grinding  cocoa  for  the  use  of  the  prison.  The  cocoa,. 
made  from  the  nuts  is  considered  much  superior  to  tbat  generally  purchased  in  the  shops.  ^ 
There  is  here  a  weighing-machine,  used  for  distributing  the  provisions  daily  to  the  cook,  ■ 
and  a  puncheon  of  molasses,  for  sweetening  the  cocoa  and  gruel  served  out  to  the  prisoners. 

This  apartment  has  a  wooden  tank,  lined  with  lead,  for  supplying  water  to  the  kitchen.- 
It  is  well  lighted  and  ventilated,  and  paved  witb  York  slab. 

In  close  proximity  there  are  cellars  for  the  reception  of  potatoes,  for  the  use  of  the  prison. 

We  afterwards  went  with  Mr.  Eeene  to  the  cook's  store,  a  small  room  adjoining  the 
kitchen,  about  twenty-six  feet  long  and  fourteen  wide,  extending  over  the  space  of  three- 
cells,  with  windows  similar. 

It  is  floored  witb  asphalte,  and  roofed  with  brick. 

We  observed  two  large  trays  of  bread  on  one  of  the  dressers — ^being  part  of  the  day'& 
allowance,  received  from  Mr.  Keene  on  tbe  previous  evening.  On  another  dresser  there  was 
a  number  of  knives,  used  by  the  prisoners.  In  the  centre  of  the  storeroom  was  a  large  block 
of  ash,  where  the  butcher-meat  is  chopped  by  the  cook.  There  is  here  an  iron- bar,  to 
which  hooks  are  attached,  on  which  the  meat  is  suspended. 

*^*  Newly'arrived  PrisoMTs, — Leaving  the  storerooms,  we  returned  to  the  Reception 
Ward,  to  be  present  when  the  governor  inspected  the  prisoners  who  were  brought  in  the 
prison-van  last  evening. 

AVe  accompanied  him  over  the  different  cells.  In  one  of  them  we  saw  a  clever  little 
boy,  of  fourteen  years  of  age,  with  engaging  countenance,  and  soft  Irish  tongue.  Though 
young  in  years  he  was  an  old  offender,  and  an  adroit  pickpocket.  On  the  present  occasion  he 
was  brought  to  HoUoway  Prison  on  a  charge  of  felony,  and  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  days' 
imprisonment,  and  four  years  in  a  reformatory.  He  had  previously  been  three  years  in  a 
reformatory  on  the  Surrey  side,  and  had  the  reputation  of  being  a  very  bad  boy. 

In  answer  to  the  interrogatories  of  the  governor,  he  stated  that  his  parents  came  from 
M&nchester,  and  his  father  was  a  bricklayer,  and  addicted  to  intoxicating  drink ;  that  he 
himself  lived  by  thieving,  and  chiefly  frequented,  London  Bridge  and  Whitechapel.      He 


550  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LOZ^DOIST. 

confessed  he  had  been  seven  times   imprisoned — three  times   in  Wandsworth,  twice  at 
Maidstone,  once  in  "Westminster  Bridewell,  and  once  in  Holloway. 

He  was  very  restless  in  his  manner  while  examined  by  the  governor,  and  often  archcJ 
his  eyebrows  and  protruded  his  tongue  in  an  artful  manner,  and  appeared  to  be  proud  of 
what  he  had  done,  rather  than  ashamed  of  it. 

Ho  farther  added,  that  he  lodged  in  Kent  Street,  at  the  east  end  of  the  metropolis, 
along  with  a  number  of  other  boys,  young  felons,  like  himself,  where  a  great  many  girls 
also  lodged.  He  paid  3^.  a  night  for  his  bed,  and  as  soon  as  he  got  his  breakfast  he  went 
regularly  out  to  thieve,  with  other  two  boys.  He  dipped  the  pockets,  and  gave  the  articles 
stolen  to  his  companions.     He  sometimes  also  stole  money  from  shop-tills. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  young  man,  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  the  son  of  anirisliman, 
an  old  Indian  soldier,  who  was  charged  with  stealing  a  coat.  He  was  a  smart  little 
lad,  with  a  keen  eye  and  firm  lip.  He  was  carefully  examined  by  the  governor ;  the  details 
being  of  a  sorrowful  character.  He  was  a  painful  instance,  among  many  which  arc  ever  and 
anon  occurring,  whero  the  children  of  respectable  parents  arc  led  into  crime  by  bad  company 
through  the  insidious  temptations  which  abound  in  our  great  metropolis. 

The  next  prisoner  was  a  young  man,  of  seventeen  years  of  age,  with  a  very  low  forehead 
and  thin,  pale,  earnest-looking  countenance.  While  being  examined  he  stood  with  his  liands 
behind  his  back.     He  had  been  imprisoned  for  a  petty  felony  at  a  gentleman's  house. 

He  told  the  governor  he  had  neither  father  or  mother — that  his  mother  died  two  years 
and  a  half  ago,  after  which  he  resided  in  lodging-houses,  and  got  his  livelihood  by  thieving. 
He  said  he  was  willing  to  work,  if  he  could  get  honest  employment.  He  did  not  like  to  bo 
a  thief,  and  would  gladly  abandon  it,  if  he  could.  He  had  no  one  to  care  for  him,  and  was 
entirely  destitute. 

Gov,  Would  you  like  to  go  to  sea  ? 

Fris.  I  would  gladly  go,  if  I  could  get  an  opportunity. 

Goi\  If  you  behave  well  I  shall  take  you  by  the  hand ;  but  remember,  boy,  and  do  net 
deceive  me. 

Prw.  I  promise  to  do  so. 

The  reception  warder  observed,  he  was  to  be  six  weeks  here,  so  that  he  would  hare  time 
to  observe  his  conduct. 

On  going  into  another  cell,  the  governor,  after  looking  intently  on  another  Irish  lad, 
about  seventeen  years  of  age,  with  small  head  and  large  eyes,  turned  to  us  and  said,  *'  Here 
is  a  man  I  have  done  as  much  for  as  though  he  were  my  own  son." 

Then,  addi'essing  the  prisoner,  he  added,  *'  You  told  me,  when  last  in  custody,  you  were 
to  go  over  to  Ireland  to  your  uncle,  a  shoemaker  there  ;  having  partly  learned  shoemaking  in 
prison,  under  my  care.  I  paid  your  passage  and  sent  you  over,  and  you  promised  to  learn  a 
trade  and  become  a  decent  man."  Turning  to  us  and  the  reception  warder,  the  governor 
added,  ''  To  my  astonishment,  he  has  come  here  again,  to  be  imprisoned  for  two  months,  for 
going  over  premises  at  the  wharf,  about  one  o'clock  at  midnight." 

Fris.  I  was  seven  weeks  with  my  uncle. 

Gov,  Why  did  you  not  stay  ? 

Fris.  Because  he  kept  jawing  me. 

Gov,  You  came  back  to  get  into  company  with  your  old  companions. 

Eeception  Warder,  This  is  a  very  bad  case. 

Gov.  You  know,  boy,  you  have  a  very  bad  temper.  I  tried  to  help  you,  and  you  have 
come  back  to  me  again. 

On  going  into  the  next  cell,  where  there  was  a  quiet,  decent-looking  man,  the  governor 
observed,  '*  Here  is  a  very  unfortunate  man,  who  is  repeatedly  getting  drunk,  and  is  thereby 
brought  into  trouble.  He  never  was  charged  with  stealing  in  his  life,  but  squabbles  on  tha 
streets." 


HOUSE  OF  CORBECTIOlf,  HOLLO  WAT.  551 

Tris.  I  am  here  for  other  people's  fimlts  this  time. 

OiHf,  You  know  the  magiatrates  of  the  City  would  not  send  you  here  for  other  people's 
fimlts. 

JViiff.  The  others  quarrelled,  and  droye  me  right  through  a  pane  of  glass. 

Oov.  How  often  have  you  been  in  prison  before  ? 

^rts.  Thirty-two  times. 

deception  Warder  (addressing  the  governor).  Thirty»three  times,  sir. 

Gov.  Your  chief  misfortune  is  drink.     This  sends  you  frequently  to  prison. 

The  inmate  of  the  adjoining  cell  was  a  young  man,  beneath  the  middle  size,  with  a  wcU^ 
formed  countenance.  On  the  governor  entering  the  prisoner  appeared  lazy  and  indifferent, 
for  which  he  was  rebuked. 

Gov,  This  man  is  sentenced  to  three  months'  imprisonment,  for  attempting  to  pick 
pockets,  in  company  of  a  young  woman. 

Chv,  How  long  have  you  been  out  of  prison  ? 

Pm.  Eighteen  months.    I  have  tried  to  get  honest  employment,  and  could  not  succeed. 

Gov.  Be  candid  with  me,  and  do  not  deceive  me.  You  know  you  formerly  pretended 
you  were  subject  to  fits.     Why  did  you  say  so  ? 

I*r%s,  To  get  qoit  of  the  hard  labour. 

Gov.  This  is  very  wrong.  It  is  not  only  the  value  of  the  labour — jou  insult  your  Maker 
by  pretending  you  are  afflicted  with  diseases  you  don't  have. 

The  other  prisoner  in  the  male  reception-cells  was  a  smart  youth,  of  upwards  of  twenty 
years  of  age,  with  a  heavy  under-foce,  red  hair,  and  wrinkled  brow,  having  the  appearance 
of  a  fast  young  man. 

On  entering  the  cell,  the  governor  remarked, "  Amore  intelligent  lad  I  never  had  in  prison." 

JPria.  I  had  good  prospects  before  me. 

Gov,  Are  these  all  gone  now  ? 

JVm.  Yes. 

Gov,  Through  drink  ? 

Prw.  Yes. 

Gov.  For  yourself,  or  for  other  people. 

Pm.  Other  people  too.  I  had  a  good  situation  in  one  of  the  boats  of  the  IN'avigation 
Company,  and  have  cooked  in  the  Prince  of  Wales  steamer.  I  was  a  time-keeper  at  the 
Exhibition  of  1851,  and  have  received  a  good  education. 

%*  Main  FasBoge. — Leaving  the  reception  ward,  we  proceeded  with  the  chief  warder 
up  the  staircase,  which  is  elegantly  matted,  and  leads  to  the  main  passage,  communicating 
with  the  central  hall,  seen  through  the  glass-panelled  doors,  directly  in  fin>nt  of  us.  The 
haD,  at  this  extremity,  is  about  twenty  feet  wide. 

On  our  right  hand  is  the  governor's  office,  and  alongside  is  a  handsome  cheerful  apart- 
ment, for  the  convenience  of  the  board  of  magistrates,  who  inspect  the  prison.  The  latter  is 
tastefully  furnished,  with  a  Turkey  carpet  and  a  long  mahogany  table,  with  a  writing-desk 
at  one  end,  and  an  ample  supply  of  mahogany  chairs.  On  the  left  is  the  clerk's  office,  with 
an  anteroom  also  attached.  On  each  side  is  a  staircase,  leading  to  a  suite  of  upper  rooms  in 
the  two  floors  above. 

There  are  two  doors,"  with  panes  of  glass  in  the  upper  panels,  between  the  governor's 
office  and  the  central  hall,  which  are  generally  kept  locked.  The  one  is  situated  about 
thirty-five  feet  in  the  interior,  and  the  other  at  the  farther  end,  opening  into  the  various 
corridors.  On  the  outside  of  the  first  door  referred  to,  the  walls  are  tastefully  pencilled,  the 
passage  is  paved  with  York  slab,  and  the  roof  is  arched,  with  seven  immense  iron  girders.  At 
the  extremity  of  the  outer  hall,  bounded  by  the  latter  door,  is  a  door  leading,  on  the  right  hand, 
to  a  smaU  room,  with  several  stalls,  erected  alongside  of  each  other,  for  relatives  and  Mends 


552  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDOIT. 

communicating  "with  the  prisoners.  They  are  roofed  with  wire,  to  prevent  anything  being 
thrown  over,  or  conveyed  to  the  latter,  who  are  stationed  in  similar  stalls  on  the  other  side. 
The  wire-screen  also  extends  on  the  side  of  the  visiting-hoxes  facing  the  prisoners.  A  copy 
of  the  prison  rules,  relating  to  the  conduct  and  treatment  of  the  prisoners,  certified  by  the 
Secretary  of  State,  on  the  6  th  of  June,  1860,  is  hung  up  on  the  walls. 

On  the  left  of  the  outer  hall  is  the  record  office  and  the  solicitor's  room,  and  also  a  room 
for  persons  visiting  the  prisoners,  exactly  similar  to  the  one  already  described. 

The  outer  hall  is  furnished  with  a  bell  communicating  with  the  offices  of  the  cLerk,  chief 
warder,  chaplain,  and  other  surrounding  apartments. 

"We  passed  onwards  through  one  of  the  folding-doors  into  the  inner  passage.  On  the 
right  hand,  as  we  enter,  are  two  doors,  communicating  with  the  prisoners'  visiting-room, 
one  of  them  leading  into  a  narrow  passage,  between  the  stalls,  of  about  five  feet  wide,  where 
an  officer  is  stationed  during  the  interview  between  the  prisoners  and  their  Mends,  and  the 
other  into  the  stalls,  where  the  prisoners  are  admitted,  which  are  covered  with  a  wire-screen, 
similar  to  the  other  stalls  alluded  to.  On  the  same  side  of  the  inner  passage  is  the  office  of 
the  deputy-governor,  with  a  waiting-room  attached  to  it. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  the  passage  are  two  similar  doors,  leading  into  the  other  apart- 
ment, where  the  prisoners  meet  with  those  relatives  and  friends  who  visit  them ;  another 
door  leads  to  the  surgeon's  room,  with  an  anteroom  attached.  The  inner  hall  is  floored 
with  asphalte,  shining  black  as  ebony. 

We  accompanied  the  chief  warder  into  his  office,  and  was  shown  the  general  receipt 
book  of  male  prisoners  incarcerated  in  the  prison ;  the  general  report  book,  and  the  prisoners' 
misconduct  book ;  the  latter  of  which,  by  the  way,  had  unusually  few  entries  inserted,  there 
not  having  been  lodged  a  single  complaint  against  any  prisoner  for  four  days  previously. 
"We  also  saw  the  thermometer  journal,  in  which  the  temperature  of  sixteen  portions  of  the 
prison  is  recorded  three  times  a  day. 

Having  inquired  of  the  chief  warder  as  to  the  manner  in  which  the  prisoners  are  disposed 
over  the  various  corridors,  and  in  reference  to  the  work  allotted  them,  he  gave  us  the  follow- 
ing information: — 

"After  the  prisoners  are  bathed  in  the  reception  ward,  they  are  inspected  by  the  surgeon 
on  the  following  morning,  who  certifies  as  to  their  fitness  for  labour,  independent  of  what 
their  sentence  may  be.  I  then  receive  them  from  the  reception  warder.  I  find  if  the 
register  number  put  on  their  arm  corresponds  ivith  the  number  in  the  receipt-book  for  male 
prisoners,  together  with  their  name,  age,  occupation,  previous  conviction  (if  any),  name  of 
the  committing  magistrate,  and  their  excuse  from  labour  (if  any),  with  the  date  of  their 
discharge.  I  insert  the  whole  of  this  on  a  card,  which  is  given  to  the  prisoner,  and  is 
hung  up  in  his  cell,  together  with  a  copy  of  the  prison  rules  and  dietary." 

The  prisoners  are  allotted  to  their  respective  wards  according  to  their  criminal  chazactcr, 
sentence,  and  occupation. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  cells  in  the  various  corridors : — 

Corridors.        Floors  in  each.        K"o.  of  cells.        l^o.  of  cells  in  each  corrid:>r. 
A         ....         1         20 

2         19. 

\  71 

3         21^  

4         11 

B         4...         1         21 

2         20 

3         22^  •         "^ 

4         14 


HOUSE  OP  CORRECTION,  HOLLOWAY. 


553 


Comdors.         Iloori  in  each. 


•  •  • 


"No.  of  cells.        Ifo.  of  cells  in  each  corridor. 
21 


D 


•  •  •  • 


2         

3         

Refiractory  cells' 
1         


cr 


2 
3 


80 


Refractory  cells 
Juvenile  wing  El         

2         

3         24V         70 

Refractory  cells 
Reception  cells 
Female  wing    Pi         

2         

3         24  y         65 

Refractory  cells 
Reception  cells 

Reception  ward  for  male  adults  at  entry  hall  of  prison.  8 


Total        438 

"We  were  furnished  with  the  following  classification  of  prisoners  shewing  the  manner  in 

which  they  are  distributed  over  the  Prison : — 

Corridor  A  1  \ 

2  I  Pelons  not  known. 

3) 

4      Summary  felons. 

B  1  ) 

2  I  Mixed  long  fines  and  tradesmen. 

^  I   Summary  felons. 

C  1      Convicted  misdemeanours. 

Bo       and  summary  misdemeanours. 
Known,  convicted,  and  summary  misdemeanours. 


n 


n 


9} 


All  known  felons,  frequently  in  prison. 


Juvenile  wing    E  1     Convicted  felons  and  long  fine — known. 

2     Summary  felons — known. 

Unknown  felons,  and  summary  convicfcioas. 
Pelons  known. 

Do.    unknown. 
Unknown  felons  and  misdemeanours. 


Pemale  wins: 


3 

P  1 
2 
3 


%*  Central  Hall. — ^We  went  forward  with  the  chief  warder  to  the  central  hall,  a  semi- 
circular space  about  forty  feet  in  length,  with  four  handsome  corridors  radiating  around 
it,  as  seen  in  the  engraving  of  the  ground-plan  of  the  prison.  The  floor  of  the  central 
hall  and  of  the  extensive  corridors  consists  of  asphalte,  finely  polished  daily  with  blacklead 

*  In  conseqaenoe  of  the  good  behaviour  of  the  prisoners  the  present  governor  has  converted  these  four 
mfiractorr  cells  into  a  workshop. 


•«.- 


564  THE  GEEAT  l^OELD  OP  LO:i^DOX. 

and  bruph ;  the  walls  are  of  a  light  colour,  resembling  the  entry  hall,  and  similarly  pencilled 
in  a  tasteful  maimer.  The  central  hall  rises  in  the  form  of  a  lofty  dome,  surmounted  by  a 
glass  roof,  in  the  form  of  a  sexagon,  set  in  a  massive  iron  frame,  seyeral  tons  in  weight,  with  a 
large  grating  for  ventilation. 

Here  we  found  two  principal  warders  in  attendance,  in  their  uniforms,  with  keys  susjpendtd 
from  their  dark  shining  belts,  and  three  gold  laced  stripes  on  their  right  arm.  On  the  right, 
as  we  enter  the  central  hall,  is  a  neat  writing-office  set  in  a  glass  framework,  where  one  of 
the  principal  warders  is  frequently  on  duty,  and  supervises  the  various  corridors. 

There  are  two  skylights  in  the  flooring  of  the  central  hall,  4  ft.  6  in.  wide,  by  6  feet 

long,  consisting  of  very  thick  glass,  supported  on  iron  bars,  giving  Hgbt  to  the  kitchen 

beneath.     There  is  also  a  trap  with  a  lifting  machine  on  either  side  of  the  hall,  between 

corridors  A  and  B,  and  corridors  C  and  D,  communicating  with  the  kitchen,  by  which  trays 

of  provisions  are  hoisted  up  on  cradles  to  the  different  cells,  along  conducting-rods  of  bright 

steel,  about  40  feet  in  height ;  the  details  of  which  process  is  fully  given  in  the  description  of 

Pentonville  Prison. 

In  the  central  hall  is  a  corkscrew  metal  staircase,  leading  from  the  basement  to  the 

different  galleries,  which  is  surmounted  with  a  dial ;  and  also  a  large  bell  which  summons 

the  prisoners  to  their  labour,  and  calls  them  to  chapel. 

While  we  lingered  in  the  central  hall  with  the  chief  warder,  we  saw  several  of  the 
prisoners,  in  their  dark  gray  prison  dress,  engaged  in  cleaning  the  various  corridors  around 
us.  They  had  a  more  cheerful  appearance  than  the  masked  men  at  Wandsworth  and  Penton- 
ville, and  proceeded  about  their  work  with  great  alacrity ;  some  w.ere  sweeping  the  dark 
floors  with  long  brooms,  and  others  were  kneeling  down  and  scrubbing  them  with  encrg}', 
until  the  asphalte  shone  with  a  bright  polish.  Several  of  the  officers  in  their  dark  blue 
uniforms  were  stationed  in  the  different  galleries,  attending  to  their  wards.  We  notice  i  a 
detachment  of  prisoners  walk  in  single  file  through  the  central  hall,  with  their  hands  behind 
their  back,  giving  a  military  salute  to  the  chief  warder  as  they  passed  on  from  the  exercising 
ground  and  treadmill  to  their  different  cells. 

We  also  saw  the  schoolmaster  moving  from  cell  to  cell  in  one  of  the  galleries,  attended  by 
a  prisoner,  who  carried  a  basket  of  library  books,  to  be  deposited  for  the  use  of  the 
prisoners.  ^ 

We  inspected  several  of  the  corridors,  which  are  about  133  feet  in  length  from  the 
central  hall,  and  are  lighted  from  the  roof  by  two  large  skylights,  which  have  openings  at 
the  sides  for  ventilation.  A  and  B  wings  in  addition  to  those  are  lighted  by  large  windows  at 
the  extremities,  provided  with  fluted  glass.    At  dusk,  each  of  the  corridors  is  Lighted  with  gas. 

There  is  a  staircase  at  the  extremity  of  corridors  B  and  C,  leading  to  the  galleries  above ; 
with  one  nearer  to  the  centre  in  A  and  D  wings.  There  is  also  a  staircase  leading  to  the 
basement  of  each. 

Having  taken  a  general  survey  of  the  main  prison,  we  now  proceeded  to  a  more  careful 
inspection  of  the  arrangements  of  the  interior. 

In  passing  fr*om  the  central  hall  on  the  right  of  corridor  A  is  a  small  storeroom,  about 
the  size  of  two  cells,  for  the  convenience  of  the  various  corridors  of  the  adult  male  pris  n. 
We  noticed  on  a  rack  a  large  pile  of  prisoners'  clothing  of  various  sizes,  consisting  of  trousers, 
jackets,  vests,  caps,  handkerchiefs,  flannel  shirts,  and  drawers.  Above  this  was  placed  an 
assoi*tment  of  brooms  and  brushes  for  cleansing  the  prison,  while  beneath,  there  was  a  row 
of  diawers,  in  which  were  deposited  sundry  other  articles  used  in  the  cells.  A  prisoner — 
an  active  young  man — who  has  been  warehouseman  to  a  Arm  in  the  city,  was  in  attendance 
at  the  time  we  entered. 

***  Cells, — ^We  entered  one  of  the  adjoining  cells,  which  is  7  feet  wide,  and  13  feetlong 
at  the  top,  and  9  feet  at  the  bottom  of  the  arch.     It  is  floored  with  asphalte,  as  all  the  other 


HOUSE  OF  COBRECTION^,  HOILOWAY.  655 

cells  are,  and  kept  carefully  polished  and  whitewashed.  The  ftimiture,  consists  of  a  small 
folding  table,  attached  to  one  of  the  sides  of  the  cell,  a  copper  basin,  and  water-closet,  and  a 
water  tap  covered,  resembling  those  in  "Wandsworth  Prison,  with  pipes  inside,  communicating 
with  the  water-dosct  and  wash-basin,  a  soap-box,  with  soap,  a  nail  brush,  and  small  piece 
of  flannel  for  cleansing. 

In  a  corner  beside  the  door  is  a  small  triangular  cupboard  with  three  shelves^  on  the  top 
of  which  is  the  hammock  rolled  up,  and  bound  firmly  together  by  two  strong  leather  straps. 
The  furniture  here  is  exactly  the  same  as  in  the  cells  in  the  reception  ward,  except  that 
here  there  are  several  library  books  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners.  In  the  cell  we  entered, 
we  saw  two  or  three  volumes— one  of  them  titled  "  Summer  in  the  Antarctic  Regions,"  and 
another  containing  the  "  !N'arrative  of  the  Loss  of  the  *  Amazon,' "  and  "Life  in  New  Zealand." 

There  is  a  hot-air  flue  over  the  door.  At  the  opposite  side  of  the  cell,  nearly  on  a  level 
with  the  asphalte  flooring,  there  is  an  extraction  flue ;  while  under  the  window  is  a  ventilator, 
admitting  pure  air  at  the  pleasure  of  the  prisoner.  The  deputy-governor  opened  the  ven- 
tilator, when  a  current  of  fresh  air  was  admitted  into  the  cell. 

We  were  introduced  to  the  engineer  of  the  prison,  who  gave  ns  a  fuller  explanation  of 
this  ventilating  apparatus.  He  stated,  in  front  of  the  cell  doors,  under  the  asphalte  flooring, 
is  a  flue  enclosing  four  pipes  on  each  side.  It  is  connected  with  the  main  flue,  and  conveys 
the  warm  air  through  the  iron  grating  over  the  cell  door.  The  iron  grating  at  the  back  of 
the  cell,  near  to  the  floor,  conveys  the  air  into  an  extraction  flue,  leading  to  the  roof  of  the 
building,  discharging  it  into  a  ventilating  shaft,  situated  at  the  angle  of  the  G  and  D  wing 
and  a  portion  of  the  kitchen. 

"  You  observe,"  said  the  engineer,  '^  that  on  the  right  side  of  the  door  there  is  a  small,  dark 
iron  handle.  When  turned  round  by  the  prisoner  in  his  cell,  it  communicates  with  a  gong 
in  the  centre  of  the  corridor,  which  gives  notice  to  the  warder  in  charge,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  small  metal  plate  is  thrown  out  at  the  exterior  of  the  cell,  by  which  he  is  able  to 
ieam  which  of  the  prisoners  in  his  ward  has  struck  the  gong." 

The  window  of  the  cell  is  3  ft.  6  in.  by  18  in.,  similar  to  those  in  the  reception  ward. 

On  the  wall  is  suspended  a  card,  containing  the  prisoner's  registered  number,  his  age,  etc., 
as  already  referred  to ;  and  alongside  is  a  copy  of  the  prison  regulations  as  to  the  disposal  of 
lus  time,  from  5*45  a.m.,  to  9  p.m.,  specifying  how  he  is  to  be  occupied  in  his  cell,  as  well  as 
out  of  it,  in  chapel,  at  school,  on  the  exercise  ground,  etc. 

Corridor  A  is  divided  into  four  wards.  Nos.  1,  2,  3,  consist  of  felons  guilty  of  their 
first  oflence,  and  No.  4  of  parties  tried  summarily. 

*^j*  Mai-^ooms. — As  many  of  the  prisoners  in  corridor  A  were  absent  from  their  cells 
at  their  other  exercises  and  employments,  we  meantime  visited  the  basement,  where  we 
saw  a  number  of  mats,  rugs,  and  matting,  of  various  kinds,  and  of  different  colours  and  designs, 
carefully  packed  up  ready  for  removal.  At  the  further  end  of  the  basement  is  a  deal  table, 
where  a  prisoner  was  stationed  binding  the  mats ;  and  in  the  right-hand  corner  was  a  pile 
of  worsted  of  different  colours,  pink,  yellow,  black,  roan,  green,  puce,  and  brown,  ready  to 
be  woven  into  fancy  rugs  and  mats. 

We  were  introduced  by  the  chief  warder  to  Mr.  Davies,  an  active  and  most  intelligent 
man,  who  holds  the  office  of  mat  and  rug  instructor.  He  is  not  an  officer  of  the  prison,  but 
is  employed  by  contractors  over  this  large  department  of  prison  labour.  We  entered  a  mat- 
Toom,  where  tw*enty-two  piisoners  were  engaged  at  their  looms,  weaving  different  descriptions 
of  mats  and  rugs.  This  apartment  is  spacious  and  well  lighted,  with  a  lofty  roof,  about 
27  feet  high.  It  is  ventilated  by  flues  on  each  side,  connected  with  the  main  shaft.  There 
is  a  staircase  on  the  left,  leading  to  a  mat-room  above  of  a  similar  size,  about  the  dimensions 
of  twelve  ordinary  cells.  The  prisoners  were  of  various  ages>  varj'ing  from,  twenty  to 
forty-five.     We  observed  an  elderly  man  of  sixty  years  of  age,  of  superior  appearance^ 


556  THE  GREAT  "WORLD  OF  LONDOl^. 

employed  in  winding  coloured  worsted  for  the  use  of  the  looms,  while  a  younger  man  beside 
him  was  working  at  a  spindle ;  several  of  them  had  their  jackets  off  as  they  plied  the 
shuttle  on  the  loom.  Four  men  were  engaged  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  putting  a  chain  on 
a  beam ;  one  man  was  guiding  the  chain,  other  two  were  stationed  by  it,  one  of  them  with 
his  arms  crossed,  resting  on  an  iron  bar,  by  the  assistance  of  which  this  operation  is  done ; 
and  another  lad,  of  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  was  busy  holding  up  the  chain  to  guide  it 
properly. 

The  trade  instructor  called  our  attention  to  another  description  of  mat-making  from  cocoa- 
nut  fibre,  of  a  heavier  description,  used  in  halls,  at  front  doors,  and  in  private  houses  and 
public  oiHces. 

Pointing  to  one  of  the  looms  beside  us,  he  explained — It  is  formed  of  a  square  wooden 
frame  with  internal  fittings,  consisting  of  iron  buttons,  and  a  reed  and  harness,  through 
which  is  drawn  each  thread  of  the  chain  used  in  the  construction  of  the  mats.  The  rug 
chain  forms  the  back  of  the  mat  or  rug.  The  face  of  the  mat  consists  of  coloured  worsted, 
and  the  best  description  of  cocoa-nut  fibre. 

The  prisoners  had  generally  a  quiet,  industrious  demeanour  as  they  were  engaged  at  their 
toil,  under  the  supervision  of  one  of  the  warders  of  the  prison. 

The  fioor  was  littered  with  mats  newly  cut  from  the  looms,  with  bundles  of  coir,  termed 
*'  dolls,"  and  with  coloured  fibre,  the  latter  being  used  in  introducing  l^e  initials  of  the 
names  of  parties  by  whom  the  mats  were  ordered. 

On  our  leaving  this  mat-room,  the  deputy-governor  conducted  uls  into  another  associated 
room  up-stairs,  containing  looms  similar  to  the  one  described.  There  were  tables  here, 
where  several  prisoners  were  employed  finishing  the  mats,  by  sewing  borders  upon  them 
made  of  plaited  sennit,  and  a  large  shearing  machine,  used  in  cutting  the  face  of  the  mats 
and  rugs.  This  room  is  well  lighted  and  ventilated,  and  presented  a  very  lively  appearance 
of  industry. 

Mr.  Davies  informed  us,  that  the  mats  and  rugs,  of  various  kinds,  made  in  Holloway 
Prison,  are  contracted  for  by  his  employers.  "  I  believe,"  he  added,  *'  that  they  have  done 
so  for  the  past  seven  years ;  and  this  work  is  executed  under  my  supervision.  The  discipline 
is  maintained  by  the  presence  of  a  warder  in  each  mat-room.  The  cheapest  description  of 
mats  we  make  here  are  of  a  common  description,  used  for  ordinary  household  purposes,  as 
well  as  for  carriages,  chaises,  dog-carts,  etc.  They  are  made  with  red,  green,  and  blue 
borders. 

"  The  next  quality  consists  of  a  superior  description  of  mats,  with  fancy  borders.  These 
are  more  coloured,  and  fetch  a  better  price  in  the  market.  They  are  much  superior  in 
quality  to  the  others  just  alluded  to,  and  are  chiefly  used  among  the  higher  circles — the 
price  being  commensurate  with  their  quality.  This  comprises  the  two  kinds  of  rug-mats. 
Some  door-mats  are  made  with  a  fibre  face,  without  the  aid  of  colouring.  These  are  used 
for  the  interior  of  houses,  and  are  very  durable  and  remarkably  fine  in  appearance,  when 
well  finished." 

"With  reference  to  the  heavier  description  of  cocoa-nut  fibre  bass-mat,  Mr.  Davies  ob- 
served, "  These  are  made  from  the  fibre,  spun  into  strands  of  a  moderate  size.  They  are 
used  for  doors  of  public  offices,  and  occasionally  in  private  houses,  and  are  in  almost  mdrerEal 
demand.  The  material  is  so  tenacious,  that  water  has  comparatively  no  power  to  rot  or 
injure  it,  consequently  they  are  of  great  durability.  In  fact,"  said  Mr.  Davies,  "  we  have 
some  in  the  prison  that  hare  been  in  daily  use  for  several  years,  and  are  apparently  as 
substantial  as  ever.  If  I  may  be  allowed  to  sug^st,  they  would  be  very  useful  for  dog- 
kennels,  belonging  to  parties  in  the  sporting  world.  No  ordure  of  the  dogs  would  rot  them. 
They  have  a  brushlike  face,  favourable  to  cleanliness.  They  could  be  easily  made  to  fit  the 
kennels,  and  I  believe,  if  they  were  changed  daily,  they  would  be  the  means  of  preventing 
much  distemper  among  valuable  dogs." 


HOUSE  OF  CORBECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  657 

Mr.  DaTies  showed  us  some  mats  made  for  the  South  Western  Bailway  Company,  with 
the  initials  of  th^  company  inscribed  in  the  body  of  the  mats.  They  were  evidently  of 
superior  workmanship,  and  reflect  credit  on  the  firm  under  whose  superintendence  they 
have  been  manufactured  in  the  prison. 

There  is  another  description  of  mat  made  in  the  prison,  which  has  a  fancy  border,  with 
Turious  devices.    They  are  extremely  strong,  as  well  as  elegant  in  appearance. 

We  were  next  shown  a  large  stock  of  hearth-rugs,  many  of.  them  very  beautiful 
in  design,  after  choice  patterns,  and  the  various  colours  being  carefully  blended  in 
unison,  produced  a  most  harmonious  effect.  "These  rugs,*'  said  Mr.  Davies,  ''are  made 
with  the  fingers,  in  contradistinction  to  many  of  the  so-called  velvet-pile  rugs,  that  are  made 
by  the  warp  passing  through  what  we  technically  call  the  '  harness,'  and  thus  forming  the 
body  of  the  rug,  making  them  very  light  and  thin.  The  latter  are  not  by  any  means  to  be 
compared  with  the  substantial  rugs  made  by  the  fingers.  The  velvet-pile  rugs  have  a 
beautiM  appearance,  but  are  devoid  of  warmth,  and  are  not  lasting. 

''Here  we  also  manufacture  cocoa-nut  matting,  which  is  in  universal  demand,  and  is 
used  in  churches,  public  offices,  and  dwelling-houses,  being  often  substituted  fbr  oilcloth.  It 
is  not  made  with  a  fibre  face,  like  the  mats,  but  is  wrought  in  the  looms,  similar  to  the 
texture  of  canvas.  It  has  great  durability,  and  is  of  a  lighter  description,  aad  capable  of 
being  applied  to  more  general  use. 

"  The  prisoners  commence  their  operations  in  the  mat-room  at  the  ordinary  description  of 
mat-making,  and  are  generally  about  a  month  in  becoming  proficient  in  making  common 
mats.  Bome  have  a  quicker  aptitude  than  others.  There  is  a  young  man  in  the  mat-room, 
in  Corridor  B,"  continued  Mr.  Davies,  "  who  has  only  been  occupied  at  this  labour  about 
fourteen  days,  and  has  made«proficiency  from  the  lowest  to  the  highest  description  of 
mats  in  this  short  time,  being  a  man  of  uncommon  ability.  I  never  had  such  an 
instance  before.*' 

"While  we  were  engaged  with  Mr.  Davies,  in  his  office,  obtaining  information,  a 
prisoner^  a  modest-looking,  pale-faced  young  man,  of  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  called 
in,  asking  directions  regarding  the  manufacture  of  his  mat.  Mr.  Davies  remarked  to  us  and 
tiie  chief  warder,  "  This  is  a  particularly  clever  young  man.  He  makes  first-class  work,  and 
a  large  quantity  of  it — considerably  more  than  most  of  the  others.  I  Ibelieve  he  has  been  a 
carman  outside.  He  does  not  seem  to  work  hard ;  yet  he  accomplishes  a  great  amount  of 
labour.  Several  of  his  companions  waste  their  strength,  and  would  appear,  to  a  superficial 
eye,  to  be  doing  more  work  than  he. 

"  Some  of  the  men  become  proficient  in  a  short  time ;  others  are  more  obtuse,  and  are 
never  proficient  at  it. 

"The  prisoners  work  seven  hours  a-day,  beginning  their  labour  at  seven  in  the  morning, 
and  finishing  at  a  quarter  to  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  They  are  occupied  several  hours 
in  the  interval  at  their  meals,  at  chapel  and  school,  and  in  the  exercising  ground. 

Many  of  the  prisoners  learn  mat-making  in  the  prison,  and  are  able  to  earn  a  livelihood 
on  their  being  discharged,  if  tKey  were  disposed  to  work,  and  could  find  .employment. 
Some  of  them  are  carpenters,  smiths,  and  belong  to  other  trades,  who,  on  their  liberation, 
pursue  their  ordinary  avocations ;  others  are  habitual  felons,  who,  on  their  being  released 
from  prison,  generally  return  to  their  old  criminal  courses. 

Meantime  a  young  man,  with  a  dull  stolid  look,  came  into  the  office  of  the  trade-instructor 
and  wanted  one  of  the  implements  used  in  mat-making  to  be  exchanged.  Mr.  Davies 
remaiked,  "  This  is  a  specimen  of  the  troublesome  class  I  have  to  deal  with.  They  do  little 
work,  and  give  me  an  infinite  deal  of  trouble.  On  the  other  hand,  I  am  happy  to  say  I  have 
not  a  few  who  do  their  duty  in  apparentiy  a  conscientious  manner. 

**  The  persons  employed  in  dressing  the  mats,"  he  continued,  "  are  taken  from  the  looms 
in  rotation,  and  work  the  machine  which  is  employed  in  shearing  them.     Four  prisoners  are 

41 


668  TEE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LO]S'DOI^. 

employed  «»:i  this  machine.    The  elderly  men  are  generally  employed  in  the  lighter  occu- 
pation of  sewing  the  mats. 

"  Mats  and  rugs,  etc.,  ore  generally  made  in  looms  in  this  prison.  "We  hare  also  frames 
for  manufacturing  them.     The  latter  are  not  required  at  present,  but  were  lately  in  use. 

'*  I  haye  the  supervision  of  five  associated  rooms  in  corridors  A  and  B,  containing  sixty-one 
weavers ;  fourteen  persons  engaged  in  sewing  the  mats,  and  three  winding  and  preparing  the 
material  for  the  use  of  the  workmen." 

The  chief  warder  introduced  us  to  the  warder  in  charge,  a  tall,  athletic  man  in  officers* 
uniform.  The  latter  stated  that  in  each  mat-room  every  loom  is  numbered.  Each  prisoner's 
cell  number  and  register  number  are  marked  against  the  loom  they  work  in ;  and  the  mats 
as  they  are  brought  in  from  day  to  day,  are  regularly  entered.  A  weekly  return  is  made 
showing  the  amount  of  the  prisoner's  work,  as  well  as  of  his  earnings. 

The  prisoners  are  not  allowed  to  speak  to  each  other,  but  to  the  trade  instructor  and 
warder  in  charge. 

Leaving  the  upper  mat-room  we  found  ourselves  in  the  first  gallery  of  Corridor  A.  The 
chief  warder  called  our  attention  to  several  gongs  in  the  centre  of  the  galleriea  which  are 
connected  with  the  prisoners'  cells  as  already  mentioned ;  and  to  a  slate  susp^ided  beside 
each  ward  on  which  are  entered  the  prisoners'  diet  and  labour. 

Before  leaving  Corridor  A,  we  went  into  several  of  the  ceUs,  where  prisoners  are  confined 
for  their  first  offence.  We  foimd  an  old  man  seated  in  a  comer  of  his  cell,  with  a  quantity 
of  junk  lying  by  his  side.  He  had  a  disabled  hand,  and  was  not  able  to  separate  the  strands 
of  the  rope  i^hich  looked  as  hard  as  a  carved  bar  of  oak.  The  chief  warder  kindly  showed 
him  the  mode  of  untwisting  the  rope  which  was  to  be  teased  into  oakum.  The  old  man 
told  us  a  very  pitiable  tale.  He  had  been  engaged  as  a  messenger  to  a  gentleman  at 
Grayesend  to  collect  the  pilot  dues  from  the  shipping  masters  there,  and  had,  unfortunately, 
on  one  occasion,  when  the  worse  of  intoxicating  liquor,  been  arrested  ^th  an  ox-tail  unlav- 
folly  in  his  possession.  He  was  sentenced  to  fourteen  days'  imprisonment  with  hard  labour, 
but  was  exempted,  the  surgeon  having  certified  his  unfitness  for  it;  which  was  signified  by 
the  red  cross  on  one  of  the  arms  of  his  jacket. 

The  chief  warder  conducted  us  into  another  cell,  where  we  found  a  robust,  daik- 
complexioned  man  of  about  forty  years  of  age.  He  informed  us  he  had  been  a  porter  to  a 
wine  merchant  in  the  city,  and  had  taken  several  sample  bottles  of  brandy  to  the  amount  of 
£6,  and  was  sentenced  to  six  calendar  months'  imprisonment.  He  told  us  he  had  a  wife  and 
family,  and  that  this  was  also  his  first  offence. 

In  another  cell  we  found  a  smart,  fair-complexioned  young  man,  who  had  at  one  time  been 
in  business  as  a  draper,  and  had  spent  large  sums  in  fast  life  in  London.  He  had  wasted  his 
means  among  thoughtless  and  dissipated  young  men  and  girls,  and  yras  now  in  prison  for 
stealing  a  counterpane  and  sheet,  of  the  value  of  a  few  shillings,  having  been  reduced  to 
desperate  shifts  from  poverty.     He  had  been  sentenced  to  six  calendar  months'  imprisonment 

In  an  adjoining  cell  we  saw  a  good-looking  young  man,  of  about  nineteen  years  of  age, 
picking  oakum.  He  had  been  a  clerk  in  a  lawyer's  office  in  the  City,  and  had  foiged  an 
order  for  two  law  books  from  a  library,  to  be  disposed  of  for  a  small  sum  of  money  to  spend 
in  pleasure.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  frequenting  theatres  and  dancing  saloons.  He  now 
undergoes  a  sentence  of  twelve  months'  imprisonment  with  hard  labour.  He  observed  to  the 
chief  warder  it  was  his  first  offence. 

After  inspecting  the  cells  and  associated  rooms  of  Corridor  A,  we  went  with  the  chief 
warder  to  Corridor  B.  On  looking  over  the  gallery  into  the  basement  of  this  wing  we  saw 
four  prisoners  engaged  winding  in  the  vicinity  of  the  other  mat-room. 

At  the  extremity  of  Corridor  B  are  two  large,  airy  rooms,  about  24  feet  square,  and  upwards 
of  20  feet  high.  One  of  them  is  occupied  as  a  school-room  for  the  adult  males,  and  the  other 
as  an  associated  room  for  tailors  and  shoemakers. 


HOUSE  OF  COEEECTIOIT,  HOIiOWAT.  559 

» 

*#*  Schools  of  the  Male  JPrison, — We  entered  the  adult  Bchool-room,  "which  is  an  airy, 
well-lighted  apartment^  situated  on  the  second  gaUery.  There  is  a  table  in  the  room,  beside 
which  the  teacher  is  seated,  and  seyeral  forms  are  ranged  in  front  and  on  each  side ;  the  seats 
being  raised  toward  the  back. 

There  is  also  a  black  board  beside  the  table  in  front  of  the  seats.  On  the  left  hand,  near 
the  fireplace,  is  a  book-case  containing  library  books,  maps,  music  books,  etc.,  and  on  the 
walls  are  suspended  maps  of  the  British  Empire,  Palestine,  and  the  World,  with  plates  of 
the  Theory  of  the  Seasons  and  the  Holy  Tabernacle. 

The  class  was  not  assembled  at  tl^  time  of  our  visit. 

We  accompanied  the  reception  warder  to  the  juyenile  school-room,  at  the  juvenile  wing 
of  the  prison,  and  foimd  Mr.  Barre,  the  teacher,  busy  with  a  class  of  boys,  who  were  reading 
their  primers.  The  lessons  consisted  of  monosyllables,  such  as  **  They  walk  by  faith  and  not 
by  sight ;"  "  Their  steps  are  known  of  the  Lord,  and  he  has  joy  in  their  way."  The  teacher 
was  seated  in  his  uniform  by  a  table,  with  a  class  of  half  a  dozen  boys  ranged  on  a  form 
before  him.  Some  were  writing  on  their  slates,  while  others  were  reading.  Sometimes  they 
read  together,  and  at  other  times  one  boy  read  by  himself. 

On  the  mantel-pieoe  was  a  black  board,  and  a  map  of  England  and  Wales  was  suspended 
on  the  wall.  The  boys  apparently  belonged  to  the  lowest  order  of  society.  Some  of  them 
appeared  to  be  very  intelligent,  and  were  very  attentive.  A  very  interesting  lad  sat  beside 
us,  with  light  blue  eyes,  fair  complexion,  and  well-formed  countenance.  Alongside  was  a 
robust,  heavy-browed  Irish  boy,  with  a  large  head,  and  his  face  marked  by  smallpoic 
He  had  a  small  gray  eye,  and  spoke  in  soft,  Irish  accents. 

A  pale-faced  lad  in  the  centre  of  the  class  appeared  to  be  a  better  scholar  than  some  of 
the  others,  and  had  a  very  engaging,  thoughtful  appearance. 

After  hearing  them  read  for  some  time,  the  teacher  exercised  them  in  simple  questions  of 
mental  arithmetic,  which  aroused  their  attention  considerably.  A  fair-haired  Irish  boy 
showed  little  interest  in  his  reading,  but  his  face  beamed  with  pleasure,  and  his  eye  sparkled 
while  his  teacher  proposed  to  the  dass  repeated  questions  such  as  the  following : — ''  Suppose 
a  man  to  be  64  years  old,  and  to  have  a  son  25  years  of  age,  how  much  older  is  the  father 
than  the  son  ?"    And,  again,  *f  What  is  the  value  of  24  pence  ?" 

The  teacher  concluded  with  a  few  judicious,  moral  remarks.  In  showing  the  value  of 
arithmetic,  he  impressed  upon  them  the  importance  of  thinking  for  themselves,  and  observed 
**  that  the  boy  who  cleans  knives  would  do  this  better  if  he  thought  for  himself.''  On  the 
other  hand,  he  pointed  out  the  danger  of  their  not  being  considerate ;  that  they  were  more 
easily  seduced  into  bad  company,  and  led  into  crime.  He  showed  them  the  necessity  of 
care  in  little  things ;  that  it  illustrates  a  man's  character,  and  leads  to  fortune  in  after  life. 
He  exhorted  them  not  to  be  a  burden  to  others,  but  to  labour  cheerfdlly  for  themselves,  and 
closed  with  an  interesting  and  impressive  illustration :  A  little  boy  saw  a  gentleman  drop 
his  handkerchief,  and  smartly  picked  it  up  and  ran  with  it  to  him.  The  gentleman  offered 
him  a  piece  of  money,  but  the  boy  declined  to  accept  it.  Struck  with  the  noble  spirit  of  the 
poor  boy^  he  went  to  see  his  parents  who  lived  in  the  next  street,  and  also  called  on  his 
schoolmaster,  who  highly  recommended  him.  He  got  the  boy  a  humble  situation  in  his 
commercial  establishment,  where  by  industry  and  perseverance  he  afterwards  became  a 
partner  of  the  firm. 

The  teacher  told  his  pupils  there  was  work  in  London  for  the  steady  and  industrious. 

Mr.  Borre  informed  us :— ''  I  teach  four  classes  daily,  which  consist  of  boys  and  adults. 
There  are  two  classes  of  adults  in  the  morning,  and  two  consisting  of  juveniles  in  the 
afternoon.  The  first  class  of  adults  are  those  who  are  learning  their  letters  and  monosyllables. 
They  are  also  exercised  in  mental  arithmetic,  and  are  taught  to  write  letters  on  their  slates ; 
none  of  them  write  in  copy-books.  There  are,  on  an  average,  20  persons  attending  this 
class ;  their  age  averaging  from  18  to  30,  some  of  them  as  old  as  60.    A  considerable  number 


660  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

do  not  know  the  letters,  and  in  the  majority  of  cases  these  helong  to  the  ordinary  felon  class. 
As  a  rule,  the  pupils  are  very  ohtuse  in  learning,  particularly  when  they  exceed  tho 
age  of  25. 

"  I  find,"  said  Mr.  Barre,  "  the  best  means  of  stimulating  them  to  think  is  by  simple 
questions  in  mental  arithmetic  ani  other  questions  of  a  general  character.  Ry  this  means, 
numbers  get  very  interested  in  the  class.  "When  I  succeed  in  getting  their  attention,  they  make 
satisfactory  progress ;  in  some  cases  they  make  great  proficiency.  As  a  rule,  I  find  that  in 
these  cases  they  seldom  come  back  to  the  prison.  It  has  often  gratified  me  when  I  found 
the  trouble  I  had  taken  with  them  was  not  thrown  away.  Those  prisoners  who  have  learned 
to  read  and  write  are  full  of  gratitude. 

"  The  class  I  have  referred  to  meets  three  times  a- week,  and  the  pupils  have  also  work  to 
do  in  their  cells  in  writing  and  cyphering.  When  I  sea  them  bring  their  slates  well  filled 
and  done  satisfactorily,  I  frequently  go  to  them  privately  in  their  cells,  and  urge  them  on, 
and  congratulate  them  upon  their  progress. 

"  The  second  adult  class  consists  of  pupils  further  advanced  in  their  education ;  some  of 
whom  have  been  transferred  from  the  lower  class.  Their  instruction  consists  of  reading, 
writing,  arithmetic,  the  elements  of  geography,  and  subjects  of  a  general  character. 

"  I  can  always  tell,"  continued  Mr.  Barre,  "  when  they  are  interested,  and  if  I  see 
their  attention  flag  on  one  subject  I  immediately  change  to  another. 

"  The  grand  secret  is  to  interest  them  in  what  they  are  doing,  I  try  to  instil  into  their 
minds  that  if  they  do  not  learn  something  every  day  it  is  a  day  wasted ;  and  I  am  in  the  habit 
of  reviewing  the  lessons  of  the  preceding  day,  to  impress  them  more  fully  into  their  memory, 
and  to  build  them  up  in  solid  improvement.  ^ 

"  I  have  about  20  adults  attending  this  class,  which  meets  three  times  a-weck,  their  age 
averaging  from  16  to  30.  The  younger  prisoners  are  generally  the  most  proficient.  The 
minds  of  the  young  are  keener  and  more  elastic  than  those  of  more  advanced  years,  and 
more  susceptible  of  retaining  their  acquirements. 

**I  have  other  two  classes  of  adults  whose  attainments  nearly  resemble  each  other. 
Their  education  consists,  in  addition  to  the  instruction  imparted  to  the  otheis,  of  a  more 
advanced  knowledge  of  geography,  the  outlines  of  history,  and  some  of  the  higher  rules  of 
arithmetic  as  far  as  Practice  and  Yulgar  and  Decimal  Fractions.  These  classes  meet  twice 
a- week,  and  are  attended  by  45  prisoners,  their  ages  averaging  from  16  to  30. 

"  We  have  also  a  singing  class  held  on  Friday  afternoon,  for  practice  in  Psalmody  and 
the  Outlines  of  Hullah's  System  of  Music,  in  which  the  prisoners  take  great  delight.  I 
learn  them  tunes  and  anthems  for  the  chapel.  This  class  is  attended  by  about  40  persons, 
generally  of  the  best  educated,  and  the  best  behaved  men  in  the  prison. 

There  are  two  juvenile  classes,  consisting  of  boys  from  8  to  16  years  of  age.  The 
branches  of  education  taught  are,  in  a  good  measure,  similar  to  those  in  the  adult  classes. 
One  of  them  consists  of  boys  who  do  not  know  their  letters,  or  arc  learning  monosyllables. 
A  largo  number  of  the  boys  in  the  juvenile  prison  are  of  this  order.  They  are  taught 
reading,  writing  on  the  slate,  and  the  elements  of  general  knowledge,  such  as  the  outlinea 
of  the  History  of  England,  and  the  elementary  principles  of  arithmetic,  by  questions  and 
answers.  This  class  is  instructed  every  day  in  the  juvenile  wing,  as  we  have  already 
noticed. 

"  The  boys  in  general  feel  interested  in  the  school  and  its  exercises.  One  of  the  severest 
punishments  which  can  be  inflicted  on  them  is  to  prevent  them  from  attending  the  class.  I 
am  particularly  interested  in  the  juvenile  classes.  In  many  cases  I  am  gratified  in  finding 
that  the  pupils  make  decided  progress.  I  often  find  that  in  the  course  of  six  months  many 
of  these  who  have  commenced  to  learn  the  letters  with  me  are  able  to  read  the  Testament, 
and  have  made  considerable  progress  in  other  branches  of  education. 

**  There  is  a  higher  juvenile  class  consisting  of  boys  who  are  able  to  read  tolerably.    Thqr 


HOUSE  OF  COKKECTION,  HOLLOWAT.  661 

are  taught  reading,  writuig,  and  arithmetic,  and  the  outlines  of  general  subjects.  Many  of 
these  pupils,  fcom  the  influences  which  are  brought  to  bear  upon  them,  are  considerably 
advanced  in  their  acquirements  before  they  leave  prison,  when  their  sentence  is  of  any 
duration.  Their  behaviour  in  school  is  very  correct.  I  have  been  teacher  in  the  prison  for  • 
eight  years,  and  never  had  occasion  to  report  a  single  prisoner  for  bad  conduct  while  under 
my  care.  I  believe  the  chief  reason  of  this  is,  that  they  are  led  to  take  an  interest  ia  the 
classes.  *'  I  find,"  says  Mr.  Barre,  "  that  boys  are  like  men.  If  they  feel  that  people  are 
really  interested  in  them  there  is  less  likelihood  of  their  misconducting  themselves ;  on  the 
contrary,  there  is  every  inducement  for  them  to  act  in  a  commendable  way. 

"  Sometimes  I  have  a  lot  of  raw  recruits  in  my  class.  They  seem  at  first  a  little 
fidgetty,  but  a  few  stem  or  kind  remarks  has  a  beneficial  eflfect  on  them,  I  never  jar  their 
feelings  by  making  any  personal  remark,  but  aUude  to  their  misbehaviour  in  a  general  way, 
which  I  find  to  be  preferable.  I  want  them  to  feel  at  home  with  me,  and  wish  them  to 
forget,  if  they  will  let  me,  that  they  are  criminals,  and  to  fSancy  themselves  to  be  my  guests 
at  home  in  my  parlour ;  that  they  have  come  to  learn  as  much  from  me  as  they  possibly  can, 
and  that  the  boy  who  makes  the  greatest  progress  is  the  one  I  shall  take  the  greatest  interest 
in.  It  is  always  a  painful  duty  to  me  to  be  supposed  watching  any  one.  I  wish  them 
to  behave  as  well  when  my  eye  is  taken  off  them,  as  when  I  am  looking  to  them,  and  then 
they  will  be  sure  to  be  benefited  by  their  contact  with  me. 

"  This  is  the  spirit  in  which  I  conduct  the  operations  in  my  school,  and  it  has  the  effect  of 
attaching  them  to  me  in  almost  every  case.  I  have  seen  some  of  the  greatest  felons  blush 
deeply  when  my  eye  has  caught  them  in  some  slight  misconduct.  My  chief  aim  is  always 
to  gain  a  good  moral  impression,  and  then  the  influence  is  lasting. 

"  I  select  the  pupils  for  the  various  classes  in  this  way.  I  visit  all  the  prisoners  when 
received  into  prison,  and  take  a  note  of  their  state  of  education,  and  report  to  the  chaplain  in 
reference  to  those  who  are  deficient,  and  obtain  his  sanction  to  their  attendance  in  the  school. 
Those  whose  sentence  is  less  than  six  weeks  are  not  eligible  to  attend  school.  Some  felons 
have  acquired  a  fair  education  in  the  prison ;  but  of  this  class,"  said  Mr.  Earre,  '*  wo  have 
no  adults  who  were  not  with  us  when  boys. 

**  There  is  a  circulating  library  in  the  prison,  which  is  under  my  control.  The  books, 
which  are  on  general  information,  and  moral  and  religious  in  their  character,  are  distributed 
throughout  the  cells,  and  changed  every  week.  There  are  two  books—a  secular  and  a 
religious  volume— left  in  each.  The  majority  of  the  prisoners  take  great  interest  in  them, 
and  read  them  attentively  at  meal  hours  and  in  the  evening.  The  library  is  one  of  our  most 
useful  auxiliaries  in  promoting  the  mental  and  moral  improvement  of  the  prisoners  and  is 
of  great  advantage  to  us. 

"  I  always  endeavour,"  continued  Mr.  Barre,  *'  to  keep  the  mind  well  employed,  and 
frequently  change  the  books  of  many  of  the  prisoners  that  have  a  thirst  for  reading,  who* 
also  have  an  opportunity  of  applying  for  additional  books  from  the  officer.  The  better 
educated  prisoners,  such  as  clerks  and  commercial  travellers,  take  great  advantage  of  the 
library.  In  going  my  rounds  over  the  male  prison,  I  know^pretty  well  the  parties  who  are 
fond  of  reading,  and  always  take  care  to  provide  them  with  books  to  entertain  and  improve 
them. 

**  The  highest  class  of  adults  write  outlines  of  the  chaplain's  sermons,  and  some  of  them 
do  it  exceedingly  well. 

"  The  more  respectable  and  better  educated  .men  do  not  come  to  the  classes,  but  read  in 
their  ceUs,  and  are  supplied  with  slates  on  which  they  write  English  composition  exercises— 
sometimes  of  a  poetical  character — some  of  them,  from  specimens  furnished  us,  not  devoid  of 
literary  ability." 


5G2 


THE  GKEAT  W^OllLD  OF  LOKDO^^ 


STATE  OF  EDUCATION  FOB  THE  YEAR  ENDING  SEPTEMBEE,  186i. 


fiUMHABY  GOKYIOIIOKS. 


CENTRAL  OBDCIKAL  COUBT  GOSTICTIO^S. 


Males. 


October 

November 

December   .... 

Januaiy  

February  

March  

April 

May 

June 

July 

August  

September  .... 

Totals... 


Not 

read  nor 

write. 

Bead 
onlj. 

Imp. 

Well. 

Total. 

10 

13 

26 

9 

58 

26 

15 

46 

12 

99 

20 

8 

42 

10 

80 

22 

12 

49 

10 

93 

24 

16 

57 

8 

105 

22 

12 

58 

9 

106 

26 

7 

82 

12 

77 

16 

16 

87 

11 

80 

26 

4 

46 

11 

87 

20 

8 

55 

12 

95 

17 

13 

48 

10 

88 

20 

17 

59 

10 

101 

249 

141 

555 

124 

1069 

October 

Noyember 

December 

January    

February  

March 

April 

May  

June 

July 

August 

September  .... 

Totals... 


Not 
readnoi 
write. 


6 
2 

1 
1 
2 

'  •  • 

2 
2 

5 

1 
1 
8 


26 


Bead 
onlj. 


•  •  • 


1 
1 


4 


Imp. 


2 

9 
2 

7 
4 

... 

16 
2 
6 
6 

12 
9 


76 


WdL 


11 
8 
2 
2 
6 

•  •• 

11 

4 
1 
1 
8 
12 


61 


Totd. 


19 
20 
5 
10 
12 

80 
9 

12 
8 

17 

24 


166 


NUMBEB  OP  PKKVIOUS  COMMITTALS. 


Males, 


SUUAIABIES. 

Once, 

Twice.       Thrice, 

4  times  and  over. 

Onoe. 

164 

81           88 

139 

1 

18 

CEKTBAL  OSXKIKIL  ^OUBT. 
Twice.         Thrice.       4  times  and  over.  Total* 

6  5  12  m 


Females* 


October 

November 

December  

January  

February  

March  

April 

May  

June 

July 

•  August 

September  .  .. 

Totals... 


Not 

read  nor 

write. 

Bead 
only. 

Imp. 

Well. 

Total. 

9 

2 

11 

■  •  • 

22 

27 

15 

14 

2 

58 

7 

8 

10 

■3 

28 

10 

9 

13 

1 

S3 

12 

11 

14 

•• . 

37 

14 

13 

14 

3 

44 

11 

7 

14 

3 

35 

13 

11 

10 

•  ■  e 

34 

6 

7 

8 

•  •  • 

21 

14 

0 

13 

3 

40 

15 

19 

11 

1 

36 

15 

7 

13 

5 

40 

153 

109 

145 

21 

428 

October  

November  .... 
December  .... 

January  

February 

March 

April   

May 

June   

July  

August 

September .... 

Totals... 


Not 

readnor 

write. 

Bend 
onlj. 

Imp. 

Wen. 

1 

•..■ 

... 

•  •• 

2 

1     ' 

2 

•  •• 

»•  • 

•••• 

■  •  • 

»•• 

•  ■• 

.•■ 

3 

•  •e 

•  •  • 

1 

•■• 

•  •• 

•  •  • 

•*. 

»  •  a 

•  •  • 

1 

1 

3 

•  ■• 

1 

»•• 

•  •• 

1 

•  •  • 

..« 

••• 

•  •• 

1 

3 

3 

1 

1 

.11 

2 

1 

1 

... 

... 

... 

9 

5 

14 

2 

TotaL 


1 

5 

... 
3 

1 
5 
1 
1 

b 

4 
1 


30 


NUMBEB  OP  PEEVIOUS   COMMITTALS. 

Females, 


SUMMABIS3. 

« 

OEKTEAL  CRIHUrAI.  OOtTBT. 

Oneo. 

Twice.      Thrioe. 

4  times  and  OTor. 

Once.  * 

Twice.        Thrice.      4  times  and  ow. 

Tool. 

61 

83            14 

70            1 

2 

2               2 

154 

%*  Tailors^  and  Shoemakers*  Eoom. — "We  went  into  the  associated  room  adjoinbg  the 
adult  schoolroom,  in  corridor  B,  where  a  number  of  the  felon  tailors  and  shoemakeFS  oru 
employed.  It  is  of  similar  dimensions  to  the  latter,  and  on  the  day  of  our  visit  was  oooupit^ 
by  eleven  shoemakers  and  fifteen  tailors. 


HOTJSE  OF  COREECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  563 

The  tailors  were  seated  cross-legged  on  a  large  board,  in  an  elevated  position,  on  one  side 
of  the  room,  with  gas  fittings  in  the  centre,  and  the  shoemakers  were  ranged  in  rows  on  the 
other  side. 

The  tailors  were  employed  making  dififerent  articles  of  dress,  such  as  coats,  vests,  trousers, 
etc.,  for  the  children  of  the  Emmanuel  Hospital,  and  dark  gray  clothing  for  prison  use. 
Most  of  them  were  young  men,  several  of  a  very  interesting  appearance,  some  were  middle- 
aged.  A  smart,  fair  complexioned  youth  in  the  centre,  was  busy  pressing  the  seam  of  a 
brown  cloth  jacket,  another  was  busy  repairing  a  pair  of  prison  trousers,  sewing  the  white 
lining  on  the  dark  gray  cloth,  with  his  shirt  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  the  brass  register  number 
suspended  on  his  breast.  A  middle-aged  man,  with  an  intellectual  appearance,  was  bending 
down  sewing  the  padding  into  the  breast  of  a  coat.  A  younger  man,  of  genteel  appearance, 
was  actively  pressing  the  seam  of  a  pair  of  trousers,  while  his  companion,  a  young  lad  of  about 
seventeen,  was  stitching  at  the  sleeve  of  a  brown  jacket.  Many  of  them  sat  with  their 
jackets  off;  several  of  them  regarded  us  with  an  open,  frank,  good-humoured  countenance. 
Others  looked  with  thoughtful  curiosity,  wondering  what  could  be  the  object  of  our  visit, 
and  some  stole  occasional  glances  at  us,  as  they  sat  with  drooping  head  over  their  work.  Mr. 
Taylor,  the  warder  in  attendance,  informed  us,  that  some  of  them  had  been  convicted  of 
embezzlement ;  others  of  unlawful  possession  of  goods ;  some  for  attempting  to  pick  pockets, 
and  one  for  deserting  his  wife  and  family. 

"  We  make  here,"  he  added,  ''  all  the  prison  clothing  for  the  male  juveniles  and  adults, 
the  uniforms  for  the  officers  of  the  prison,  as  well  as  of  Newgate,  and  for  the  officers  at  the 
GuildhaU  and  the  Mansion  House.  In  addition  to  this,  we  make  clothing  for  the  boys  of  the 
Emmanuel  Hospital,  "Westminster,  numbering  about  thirty.  We  also  do  slop-work  for 
different  mercantile  firms  in  the  Metropolis,  consisting  of  jackets,  vests,  trousers,  and  over- 
coats, and  execute  the  necessary  repairs  on  the  prison  clothing. 

*' There  are  some  of  the  prisoners  here,"  said  Mr.  Taylor,  "who  have  never  used  the 
needle  until  they  came  into  the  prison.  After  being  with  us  for  about  six  months,  they  are 
able  to  make  vests  and  trousers,  and  assist  in  making  coats.  These  could  scarcely  get  a 
livelihood  by  their  work  out  of  doors ;  but  others,  who  have  been  here  for  about  eighteen 
months,  are  capable  of  making  a  comfortable  livelihood.  There  are  others  who  had  learned 
to  sew  before  they  entered  the  prison,  who  have  become  more  expert  during  their  imprison- 
ment, and  by  the  time  their  sentence  expires,  will  be  tolerable  workmen.  There  are  some 
employed  here  who  are  fair  workmen,  and  have  entirely  got  the  knowledge  of  their  business 
while  in  prison. 

"  Some  of  these,"  said  Mr.  Taylor,  "  for  example,  that  fair-complexioned,  genteel  young 
man,  who  sits  opposite  to  us,  are  first-rate  tradesmen,  able  to  take  their  place  in  the  most 
fashionable  establishments  in  London.  Here  is  a  handsome  overcoat  made  by  two  of  the 
prisoners,  which  is  a  good  specimen  of  their  workmanlike  ability." 

Each  prisoner  is  expected  to  make  one  pair  of  trousers  a -day,  and  very  few  of  them 
make  more  than  this.  They  are  engaged  at  work  about  eight  hours  a  day,  exclusive  of  the 
time  spent  in  chapel,  at  school,  and  on  the  exercising  ground. 

The  shoetnakera  were  sitting  by  their  stalls,  some  of  them  making  boots  and  shoes,  and 
others  were  busy  repairing  the  prison  shoes.  One  man  was  engaged  hammering  a  welt, 
another  was  scraping  the  heel  of  a  boot  with  a  knife.  A  young,  fair-complexiuned  lad, 
appeared  to  be  absorbed  in  closing  an  upper  leather ;  a  middle-aged,  pale-faced  man,  with  a 
very  fiat  chest,  was  busy  sewing  the  welt  of  a  female  boot.  The  boot  was  fastened  on  his 
knee  by  a  leathern  strap,  held  tight  by  his  left  foot. 

There  is  a  counter  on  the  other  bide  of  the  room  for  the  warder,  with  drawers  underneath, 
tu  contain  materials  required  in  his  department.  At  the  back  of  the  counter  is  a  ruck  with 
lasts  of  difi'erent  bizes,  a  heap  of  old  brown  and  mouldy  bhoed  coudcmned  by  the  governor, 
;uy  on  one  side  of  the  room,  which  are  oocu&ioiiaUy  cut  up,  and  used  to  rupuu*  the  prison  siious. 


664  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDOIT. 

We  observed  a  fire-place  and  stove  with  an  oven,  to  heat  the  tailors'  irons.  A  prison 
warder  generally  stands  by,  overlooking  the  varions  workmen. 

'^  Most  of  the  young  men  here,"  remarked  the  warder  to  ns,  ''  have  learned  what  they 
know  of  shoemaking  with  me/' 

In  answer  to  our  inquiries,  he  informed  us — "  We  make  all  the  shoes  worn  in  the 
prison  by  males,  as  well  as  females,  and  likewise  for  the  officers  of  the  prison,  and  the  pnpib 
of  the  Emmanuel  Hospital,  and  execute  the  necessary  repairs.  These  fiilly  engage  all  oar 
hands.  I  generally  get  the  new  beginners  to  work  at  closing  the  uppers,  which  i^  a  very 
simple  process.  Prom  closing  the  uppers  they  advance  to  sewing  the  bottoms  to  the  uppers, 
and  are  very  soon  able  to  finish  an  ordinary  shoe. 

*'  We  make  fine  work  occasionally,  such  as  the  officers'  shoes,  which  aife  tasteftiUy  done. 
There  are  prison  tailors  with  us  at  present  who  would  do  credit  to  the  first  estabUshmenta 
in  London. '*  Here  the  warder  showed  us  a  Balmoral  boot  made  for  a  boy,  a  very  handsome 
article,  the  bottoms  being  of  superior  work,  and  also  the  stitching  of  the  upper. 

"  The  workmen  generally  finish  one  boot  a-day ;  some  of  them  do  more.  We  begin  our 
work  at  seven  in  the  morning  in  winter,  and  continue  till  eight  in  the  evening,  with  tho 
exception  of  the  hours  at  chapel,  school,  meals,  and  exercise. 

**  Some  of  the  workmen  who  have  been  entirely  trained  with  me,  will  be  ablo  to  get  a 
decent  livelihood  at  their  trade  by  the  time  they  leave  us.  There  are  several  here  that 
have  had  some  training  previously,  who  will  become  more  proficient  by  the  time  their 
imprisonment  expires.  In  the  course  of  repeated  imprisonments,  some  ultimately  become 
tolerable  workmen. 

''  You  see  that  boy  there,"  said  the  warder,  "  in  the  centre  of  the  group.  He  has  learoed 
shoemaking  with  me,  and  is  now  able  to  make  a  pair  of  shoes  in  tolerably  good  condition. 
That  middle  aged  man,  with  his  head  bending  beside  his  knee,  is  a  first-rate  workman." 

On  leaving  the  associated  room  by  the  door  which  opens  into  the  gallery,  we  saw  one  of 
the  prisoners  laving  the  face  of  another  with  soap,  preparatory  to  being  shaved. 

Adjoining  this  room  is  a  store,  into  which  we 'were  conducted  by  the  chief  warder,  and 
shown  a  stock  of  garments  consisting  of  jackets,  trousers,  and  vests,  prepared  for  the  boys  of 
the  Emmanuel  Hospital,  with  a  variety  of  other  clothes  and  materials. 

Eetracing  our  steps  along  the  gaUery  towards  the  central  hall,  we  saw  on  the  floor  beneath 
a  file  of  prisoners  in  dark  gray  prison  dress,  and  blue  caps,  with  the  register  number  on  the 
arms  of  their  jackets,  and  the  brass  circular  plate,  containing  the  number  of  their  cell, 
suspended  on  their  breast.  A  warder  in  uniform  stood  in  attendance.  We  noticed  that  the 
flooring  of  the  galleries  is  composed  of  blue  slate,  fenced  on  the  outer  side  by  an  iron  railing 
of  a  tasteful  design,  painted  of  a  stone  colour,  the  top,  along  which  the  food  carriagee  are 
rolled,  being  painted  of  a  mahogany  tint  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  wood. 

Before  leaving  the  B  wing  we  visited  several  of  the  cells.     In  one  of  them  we  found  a 
smart  young  man  with  a  very  interesting  appearance.      When  brought  to  the  prison  he  was 
very  genteelly  dressed  in  a  dark  suit  of  clothes,  cap  with  peak,  gloves,  and  Inverness  cape. 
To  use  his  own  words,  he  thinks  it  must  have  been  a  thief  who  invented  the  latter  article  of 
dress.     He  was  about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  beneath  the  middle  size,  with  a  broad  broir 
and  finely-formed  countenance,  and  rich  dark  eyes,  and  is  reported  to  be  a  very  expert  pick- 
pocket, and  has  been  several  times  previously  convicted.     He  told  us  his  parents  were 
respectable  people,  and  his  mother  died  when  he  was  about  four  years  of  age.     After  this  his 
father  married  another  woman,  and  became  a  drunkard.     His  stepmother  was  unkind  to  him, 
and  turned  him  out  of  doors  to  get  his  livelihood  in  the  best  way  he  could.    At  this  time  he 
became  acquainted  with  several  thieves  and  learned  picking  pockets,  at  which  he  was 
considered  to  be  expert. 

In  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  he  states  that  for  about  three  years  he  had  cohabited 
with  a  female  who  sincerely  loved  him,  and  assumed  his  name.    On  one  occasioDi  while  he 


HOUSE  OP  C0EEECTI03T,  HOLLOWAT.  565 

was  ]Q  HoUoway  PriBOQ;  ehe  was  there  along  with  him,  and  need  to  write  his  name  on  the 
dinner  covers,  which  was  detected  by  the  officers  of  the  prison.  On  his  release,  after  twelve 
months'  confinement,  he  had  resolved  to  live  an  honest  life ;  parted  from  this  young  woman 
so  deeply  attached  to  him,  and  wrought  as  a  labourer  in  St.  Xatherine's  Docks  at  2s,  6d.  per 
day,  when  he  again  became  imfortunate,  and  was  driven  to  steal. 

The  young  man  further  stated  with  an  earnest,  ingenuous  countenance,  "  After  I  leave 
prison  what  am  I  to  do  ?"  My  father  is  a  poor  drunkard.  My  stepmother  would  take 
money  from  me,  rather  than  assist  me,  and  would  not  inquire  where  I  got  it  ?  I  have  a 
younger  sister  employed  at  a  match  manufactory,  who  only  earns  from  6$.  to  7«.  per  week.  She 
would  gladly  assist  me  with  2«.  6d,,  and  consider  it  a  treasure,  but  I  feel  within  myself  I 
could  not  take  it  from  her.  I  would  gladly  accept  any  honest  employment,  however  menial, 
and  most  willingly  enter  Her  Majesty's  royal  navy  for  any  period  to  get  away  from  my  old 
companions,  and  criminal  life." 

We  entered  another  cell,  where  we  saw  a  tall  gentlemanly-looking  youth  with  a  particu- 
larly high  forehead,  and  dear  gentle  hazel  eye.  He  had  recently  been  indisposed.  In 
answer  to  the  inquiries  of  the  chief  warder,  he  stated  he  was  much  better.  We  looked  to 
his  card,  and  found  he  was  charged  with  felony.  We  asked  him  the  particular  nature  of  his 
offence,  fie  stated  he  had  been  a  waiter  at  a  private  boarding-house  in  the  metropolis,  and 
that  an  old  gentleman,  recently  returned  from  Tasmania,  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  him. 
As  the  old  gentleman  was  going  to  York,  he  intrusted  him  with  the  keys  of  his  apartments, 
and  in  an  unguarded  moment  he  pledged  some  silver  plate  belonging  to  him,  to  raise  funds  to 
enable  him  to  proceed  on  a  jaunt  into  the  country.  On  the  chief  warder  asking  bim  if  there 
was  not  a  female  connected  with  the  matter,  he  admitted,  with  a  smile,  there  was,  but 
added  that  she  had  no  connection  with  the  felony.  It  appears  he  loved  a  young  woman  in  a 
tradesman's  family,  and  intended  to  take  a  trip  with  her  into  the  country,  £uid  with  this 
motive  he  robbed  the  old  gentleman  of  his  plate. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  fair-complexioned,  good-looking  man,  of  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  about  five  feet  six  inches  in  height,  with  an  uncommonly  smart  appearance.  The  chief 
warder  knew  him  to  be  a  most  accomplished  pickpocket  and  burglar  of  the  highest  class,  and 
has  observed  his  career  for  the  past  nineteen  years.  Strange  to  say,  he  happened  to  be  the  very 
person  we  had  scared  for  picking  a  lady's  pocket  in  Gheapside  about  three  months  ago,  as 
recorded  in  the  fourth  volume  of  the  ''London  Labour  and  the  London  Poor."  He  is  at 
present  undergoing  three  calendar  months'  hard  labour,  for  picking  a  lady's  pocket  of  a  watch 
in  the  City  two  days  subsequent  to  this  occurrence,  and  was  arrested  chiefly  by  the  treachery 
of  a  female  with  whom  he  had  cohabited.  He  was  very  conversant  on  the  burglaries  and 
robberies  of  various  descriptions  he  had  committed  in  the  course  of  his  career.  Many  of  them 
were  perpetrated  in  the  City  as  well  as  over  the  United  Kingdom.  He  had  lately  returned 
from  Flanders.    He  is  a  returned  convict,  and  one  of  the  most  ad  roit  thieves  in  London. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  plain-looking  youth  of  twenty-three  years  of  age,  who  had 
been  fourteen  times  in  prison.  The  first  occasion  was  when  he  was  seven  years  of  age.  He 
was  formerly  at  St.  Patrick's  Boman  Catholic  School,  Lambeth,  and  remarked  to  us  few  of 
the  pupils  who  attend  this  school  turn  out  well. 

In  an  adjoining  cell  we  saw  an  elderly  man,  almost  bald  in  front,  with  a  long  thin  face, 
and  blue,  earnest  eyes.  He  was  a  shoemaker  by  trade,  and  charged  vdth  stealing  a  door-mat. 
Ho  had  been  eight  times  previously  convicted.  His  infirmity,  according  to  his  own  confes- 
sion, was  strong  drink.  He  is  very  inoffensive  when  sober,  and  was  at  one  time  in  a  good 
situation  in  the  Duke  of  York's  Military  School,  Chelsea.  He  gave  us  a  profound  military' 
salute  on  leaving  his  cell. 

In  the  next  ceU  was  a  painful  spectacle.  There  we  saw  a  silver-headed  old  man  of 
between  sixty  and  seventy  years  of  age,  who  had  been  guilty  of  stealing  books  from  a  shop- 
door  in  Bishopsgate  Street.    He  said  he  committed  the  felony  to  keep  him  from  starving,  and 


566 


THE  GIIEA.T  WORLD  OF  LOJ!^DO]^. 


that  this  was  his  first  offence.    He  generally  worked  as  a  labourer  at  the  docks.     He  had  an 
open  JQ:ank  appearance  very  different  from  the  majority  of  the  criminals  around  him. 

The  following  is  an  inventory  of  the  work  done  for  the  past  year; — 

Shoemaking. 

Shoes  for  prisoners  •  •  * 

Prisoners'  own  shoes  repaired  before  discharge 
Hammock  straps      «  .  • 

Uniform  belts  and  straps  for  officers 
Pouches  .  •  .  • 

For  Emmanuel  Hospital : — 
Boys'  boots      ,  •  .  « 

Girls'  do.  ... 

Officers'  own,  and  families  boots  and  shoes 

The  following  is  a  state  of  the  work  done  in  this  department  during  the  last 

Mai'making, 

Hug  and  diamond  mats  «  • 

Board  mats    «  •  •  • 

Imitation  board  mats  •  • 

Double  boarded  mats     • 
Outsizes  •  •  • 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  articles  of.  clothing  made  and 

year  :— 

Tailoring 
* 
Jackets  for  prisoners  •  • 

Vests  for  prisoners 
Pairs  of  trousers  for  prisoners 
Braces  for  prisoners         • 
Stocks  for  prisoners  • 

Hammocks  for  prisoners 
Uniform  great-coats  for  officers 
„     frock-coat        ,, 
trousers 


Drawers 

Gaps 

Jackets 

Vests 


>> 


9> 


» 


J> 


Made. 

BepairedL 

218 

2177 

— 

150 

180 

908 

20 

20 

64 

206 

75 

115 

76 

150 

Luring  the  last 

;  year: — 

Made. 

• 

14,781 

• 

798 

• 

831 

• 

2818 

• 

2073 

21,301 

d  repaired  during  the  L 

Made. 

Bepaired. 

146 

2339 

«        268 

1218 

267 

3169 

164 

233 

60 

86 

— 

520 

32 

28 

43 

48 

61 

72 

'20 

37 

1 

1 

33 

36 

Clothing  for  the  Emmanuel  Hospital,  consisting  of- 

Suits  of  boys  clothes       .  • 

Outfits  for  boys  to  send  to  sea  • 

%•  Infirmary, — Wc  entered  the  C  ward,  at  the  farther  extremity,  and  saw  two  lar^ 
rooms,  exactl}^  similar  in  dimensions  to  those  we  visited  in  the  B  wing,  which  are  here  u^  as 
an  infirmary.  We  found  several  prisoners  confined  by  slight  indisposition.  There  is  a  Ji>- 
ponsary  adjoining,  which  is  furnished  with  medicines  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners.  It  is  auu^-r 


HOUSE  OE  COmiECTION,  HOLLO  WAY.  507 

• 
the  immediate  care  of  a  warder,  and  has  the  appearance  of  a  druggist's  shop  with  the  phials 

carefully  labelled  and  arranged  on  shelves  erected  around  the  walls.  One  of  those  large  rooms 
made  use  of  for  infirmary  purposes  was  empty.  It  is  furnished  with  a  table  in  the  centre, 
and  a  form  on  either  side,  with  a  copious  supply  of  bedsteads  and  chairs.  It  is  well  venti- 
lated by  flues,  and  one  of  the  large  windows  can  be  drawn  down  from  the  top  to  admit  a 
current  of  fresh  air.    There  is  a  comfortable  fireplace  in  the  room. 

We  proceeded  to  the  other  room  with  the  infirmary  warder.  There  we  found  nine  beds 
in  the  apartment.  There  was  only  one  patient  in  bed,  an  old  man,  who  was  suffering  from 
rhemnatiBm.  There  were  six  other  invalids  in  the  room  afflicted  with  rheumatism  and  cold, 
while  a  seventh  acted  as  nurse.  There  happened  to  be  no  serious  case  of  illness  at  the  time 
of  our  visit.  Some  were  reading  by  the  comfortable  &ce,  or  seated  on  the  bedsteads. 

The  bedding  consisted  of  a  straw  palliasse,  a  blue  striped  mattress  stuffed  with  wool*  a 
pair  of  blankets,  a  pair  of  sheets,  a  pillow  containing  horse-hair,  and  a  blue  striped  coverlet 
of  a  neat  appearance.  At  the  side  of  each  bed  there  is  a  portable  cupboard  where  the 
prisoners  can  deposit  their  utensib  and  food.  There  are  also  several  shelves  in  the  room, 
which  is  lighted  by  gas  jets. 

A  pale-faced  young  man  sat  on  a  seat  by  the  fire  in  apparently  a  very  infirm  condition, 
suffering  £:om  a  pulmonary  complaint.  He  breathed  with  great  difflculty,  his  breast  heaving 
convulsively  at  each  respiration. 

Another  smart  young  man  was  confined,  who  was  occasionally  subject  to  fits. 

%*  Gkapel, — The  chapel  is  a  large  and  elegant  building,  fitted  to  accommodate  the  whole 
of  the  prisoners  at  one  service.  It  is  much  larger  than  the  one  at  Wandsworth.  The  adults 
are  ranged  in  two  divisions  along  the  far  extending  galleries  in  front.  The  juveniles  meet 
in  an  inclosure  on  the  left  hand,  and  the  females  in  another  on  the  right,  and  are  not  seen  by 
each  other.  The  chaplain  occupies  a  pulpit  in  the  centre  of  a  pew,  erected  adjoining  the 
wall,  in  front  of  the  adults,  about  the  same  height  as  in  other  chapels.  The  governor  and 
his  family  sit  on  the  right  hand,  and  the  chaplain's  family  on  the  left.  There  is  besides 
accommodation  for  the  chief  warder,  and  any  of  the  magistrates  or  other  visitors.  On  the 
wall,  beneath  the  pulpit,  is  tastefully  inscribed  a  copy  of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  Ten  Com- 
mandments, and  the' Apostles'  Greed.  Underneath  this  is  the  Communion  table  fenced  within 
an  oaken  railing,  raised  two  steps  above  the  level  of  the  floor. 

A  lofty  strong  iron  railing  separates  the  adults  in  the  gallery  from  the  area  below.  The 
lower  part  of  the  gallery  is  divided  by  a  low  wooden  railing,  with  a  stair  on  each  side  lead- 
ing to  the  second  landing,  and  extending  upwards  on  each  side  of  this  passage  to  an  entry  on 
the  third  landing  above,  which  is  on  a  level  with  the  highest  galleries  in  the  corridors.  The 
interior  of  the  chapel  is  lighted  at  dusk  with  a  circlet  of  gas  lights  suspended  from  the  lofty 
roof  as  well  as  by  a  series  of  gas  jets  on  each  side  of  the  galleries. 

So  soon  as  the  bell  rang,  we  entered  the  chapel  along  with  the  governor,  and  sat  in  the 
elevated  pew  before  referred  to,  entered  by  a  door  from  behind,  and  had  a  commanding  view 
of  the  adults  ranged  along  in  the  ample  galleries,  attired  in  their  dark  prison  dress.  It  was 
a  more  cheerful  scene  than  the  chapel  service  at  Wandsworth  and  Pentonville,  where  the 
heads  of  the  prisoners  could  only  be  seen  occasionally  peering  over  the  iron  clasped  boxes  in 
which  they  were  confined.  Most  of  the  adults  were  firom  eighteen  to  thirty  years  of  age, 
yet  we  noticed  several  bald-headed  men  amongst  them,  some  of  them  with  a  very  respectable 
appearance.  One  elderly  gentleman  in  particular,  imprisoned  for  fraudulent  bankruptcy,  had 
a  superior  air  to  the  mass  of  the  felons  around  him.  We  could  single  out  a  few  good-looking 
young  men,  clerks  and  others,  with  an  engaging  manner.  The  mass  of  tlie  prisoners  belong 
to  the  ordinary  felon  class  of  the  metropolis ;  some  with  a  duU  dark  beetling  brow,  and 
others  with  a  sharp  clear  aspect,  indicating  a  more  acute  and  lively  mind.  Many  of  them 
we  conjectured,  from  their  arched  eyebrows  and  peculiar  features,  were  of  Hibernian  extrac- 


568  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

tion.    Two  warders,  with  their  backs  to  each  other,  were  stationed  in  the  centre  of  the 
gallery.     One  of  the  principal  warders  sat  at  the  back  of  the  gallery  facing  the  chaplain. 

Many  of  the  female  prisoners  were  of  a  degraded  appearance,  thongh  we  could  single  out 
a  number  of  good-looking  felons  among  them,  some  of  them  very  expert  shoplifters  and 
pickpockets. 

The  religious  services  were  listened  to  with  the  greatest  propriety.  Many  showed  a 
devout  frame  of  mind  in  the  devotional  exercises,  and  apparently  joined  with  great  fervour 
in  the  Psalmody,  which  was  most  decorously  conducted.  The  chaplain  delivered  an 
admirable  discourse,  which  was  listened  to  with  marked  attention. 

At  the  close  of  the  services,  the  governor  informed  us  that  fifteen  of  the  adnlts  bad  not 
read  their  books  during  worship,  and  remarked  that  thirty-five  of  the  seventy  females  present, 
were  unable  to  read. 

He  further  added,  **  That  some  of  the  prisoners  present  had  lately  lode  in  theur  carriages 
to  their  place  of  business  in  the  City,  and  were  here  incarcerated  for  fraudulent  bankruptcy." 

In  answer  to  our  inquiries  regarding  the  chapel  service,  the  reception  warder  gave  us  the 
following  information  : — ''At  a  quarter-past  eight  o'clock  the  principal  warder  in  charge 
rings  the  bell  for  the  prisoners  to  proceed  to  the  chapel.  The  warders  then  unlock  the  cells 
in  the  various  corridors.  The  prisoners  pass  in  files  along  the  galleries,  about  three  yards 
apart  from  each  other.  At  tho  chapel  door,  a  principal  warder  and  an  ordinary  warder, 
count  the  prisoners  of  each  corridor  passing  into  the  chapel,  as  a  check  on  the  number  of 
prisoners  in  the  reception  wards.  They  enter  the  chapel  from  the  second  and  third  landings 
adjoining  the  central  hall,  and  after  service  are  again  conducted  back  to  their  cells  in  a 
similar  manner." 

"We  were  introduced  by  the  governor  to  the  chaplain,  when  we  learned  that  prisoners  of 
all  sects  of  religion  attend  the  chapel  with  the  exception  of  one  Boman  Catholic,  a  very  eccen- 
tric man.    AU  controversial  subjects  are  excluded  from  the  services. 

Every  morning,  immediately  on  leaving  chapel,  those  prisoners  who  were  admitted  into 
the  prison  on  the  previous  day,  are  brought  before  the  chaplain,  who  takes  a  note  of  their 
register  number,  and  the  number  of  their  cell,  whether  married  or  not,  number  of  children, 
the  parish  and  county  to  which  they  belong,  their  trade  or  occupation,  whether  in  work  or 
not,  their  previous  commitments,  their  offence,  the  cause  of  their  offence,  their  sentence,  the 
date  of  their  discharge,  their  education  and  religious  training,  and  whether  they  have  attended 
Divine  worship  during  the  last  six  months. 

The  chaplain  generally  gives  them  something  to  learn,  such  as  Scripture  texts,  sniiable 
to  their  position  and  state  of  mind,  which  they  commit  to  memory,  and  repeat  to  him  about 
a  fortnight  or  a  month  after.  "When  they  are  in  difficulty  as  to  the  meaning  of  any  passage 
of  Scripture  in  their  Bible  readings  in  the  cells,  they  are  urged  to  come  to  him  for  an  expla- 
nation inmiediately  after  service. 

The  Bev.  Mr.  Owen,  the  chaplain,  "  considers  it  a  very  interesting  sphere  of  labour. 
Leaving  out  the  professional  thief,  who  rarely  reforms ;"  he  states,  "  there  are  many,  who 
date  their  first  serious  impressions  from  the  time  of  their  imprisonment.  He  has  in  his 
possession  several  letters  written  to  him  by  prisoners  on  the  eve  of  their  discharge,  and  ailcr 
some  months'  absence,  in  which,  while  they  deplore  tho  sin  that  brought  them  to  prison, 
they  thank  God  that  it  pleased  Him,  while  there,  to  open  their  eyes  to  their  position  in  his 
sight;  and  here,  it  must  be  remembered,  that  they  have  no  motive  for  hypocrisy,  as,  unlike  a 
convict  prison,  they  gain  no  remission  of  sentences  by  good  behaviour.  The  solitude  of  the 
cell  has  a  beneficial  effect  on  most  characters,  not  hardened  in  vice.  The  prisoners  are  all 
very  fond  of  the  singing-class  which  assembles  every  Friday  to  practise  the  psalms  and 
hymns  for  the  Sunday.  Occasionally  the  chaplain's  wife,  with  the  help  of  the  school- 
master and  tho  harmonium,  teaches  them  a  new  tune,  which  seems  to  give  them  much 
pleasure.    Many  a  prisoner  who  is  unimpressed  by  anything  else,  is  moved  to  tears  while 


•      HOTJSE  or  CORRECTION,  HOLLOWAY,  669 

Binging  a  hymn.  There  are  many  educated  men  amongst  the  prisoners,  but  the  chaplain 
has  not  had  one  educated  female  under  his  charge.  There  are  eight  lady  visitors,  who  meet 
the  chaplain  every  Thursday  in  the  committee-room.  After  engaging  in  prayer,  they  call 
on  the  female  prisoners  in  their  various  cells.  Those  who  wish  to  reform  have  the  offer  of 
admission  into  a  reformatory." 

%•  Siearing  Seporti. — ^Leaving  the  chapel,  we  accompanied  the  governor  down  the 
back  staircase  leading  to  his  office,  to  hear  the  applications  made  by  the  prisoners,  as  well  as 
the  reports  (if  any),  brought  before  him  for  misconduct.  This  is  a  handsome  apartment, 
and  elegantly  furnished.  We  here  observed  a  table  of  calculations  or  ready  reckoner  of 
provisions,  according  to  the  Government  scale.  Opposite  the  number  of  prisoners,  ranging 
from  10  up  to  600,  it  shows  the  exact  weight  in  pounds  and  ounces,  thereby  saving  much 
time  in  making  out  the  calculation  for  the  issue  of  provisions.  There  is  a  corresponding 
table  in  the  steward^s  ojfice. 

A  good-looking  man,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  was  introduced  into  the  office.  He 
modestly  stated  to  the  governor,  "  I  wish  to  write  a  letter  to  my  wife.  She  asks  me  to 
write  to  her.  My  sentence  expires  on  the  1 9th  of  February.  I  would  also  feel  obliged  if 
you  would  permit  my  hair  and  whiskers  to  grow."     His  request  was  granted. 

An  elderly  man,  with  silver  hair,  and  genial  countenance,  wished  to  have  a  sheet  of 
foolscap  paper  to  write  to  his  friends. 

Chv,  I  shall  send  it  you  to-day. 

A  young  man,  of  short  stature — a  German  Jew — was  then  ushered  in.  He  was  about 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  dark-complexioned,  with  low  forehead;  and  had  an  air  of  petulance. 
He  complained,  in  an  irritable  tone,  that  a  prisoner  in  the  tailors'  associated  room,  had 
taken  away  his  thread.    The  governor  told  him  to  be  quiet,  and  to  keep  his  temper. 

A  tall,  good-looking,  dark-complexioned  man  came  in,  and  requested,  in  Irish  accents, 
if  the  governor  would  allow  his  hair  and  whiskers  to  grow,  as  his  sentence  would  expire  in 
six  weeks.  He  was  imprisoned  for  a  brawl  with  the  police,  when  in  a  state  of  intoxication. 
His  request  was  acceded  to. 

A  cripple,  of  about  forty  years  of  age,  was  then  ushered  in.  Ho  had  lost  one  of  his 
legs  in  the  late  Crimean  war,  and  was  charged  with  obtaining  money  on  false  pretences. 
He  asked  permission  to  allow  his  beard,  whiskers,  and  moustache  to  grow.  The  governor 
stated  he  would  not  permit  the  moustache,  but  he  would  allow  his  beard  and  whiskers  to  grow. 

A  tall  young  man,  of  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  with  a  long  face,  and  frank  coun- 
tenance, stepped  up  towards  the  governor.  He  was  an  Irishman,  with  a  narrow  brow,  and 
full  underface.  He  was  charged  with  wrangling  with  the  German  Jew  above  referred  to, 
in  the  tailors'  associated  room.  He  complained  that  the  Jew  imreasonably  wished  to  appro- 
priate all  the  thread  to  himself,  and  acted  just  as  he  pleased. 

Gov,  Don't  pay  any  attention  to  him.  You  see  he  has  an  irritable  disposition.  If  I 
hear  any  more  complaints  against  him,  I  shall  shift  him  from  the  shop. 

Upon  this  the  German  Jew  was  called  in  as  the  other  retired.  The  governor  told  him 
he  saw  through  his  artful  design ;  and  thought  there  was  something  wrong.  He  had  brought 
an  application  to  see  him  (the  governor),  because  there  was  a  report  against  himself.  He 
warned  him  to  take  care  of  his  conduct,  and  not  to  quarrel  about  such  trifling  matters. 

The  other  young  man  was  then  called  in. 

Oov.  Is  this  thread  yours  ? 

Young  man.  The  other  prisoners,  besides  us,  know  it  is  mine.  It  was  lying  on  the 
board,  and  was  free  to  all.  This  man  (the  Jew)  keeps  it  to  himself,  and  kicks  up  a  row 
about  it. 

Oov,  In  future,  I  shall  give  you  your  thread  separately,  so  that  there  shall  be  no 
occasion  to  quarrel. 


570  THE  GREIT  WORLI)  OF  LONDOX. 

Th»  Jew.  (Contorting  his  countenance).  I  have  been  in  a  hundred  tailors*  shops,  and 
never  was  meddled  with  in  this  way. 

Gov.  K  you  are  brought  up  to  me  again  for  squabbling  in  the  tailors'  shop,  I  shall  put 
you  in  a  dark  cell. 

The  Jew.  What  is  squabbling  ? 

Oov.  Quarrelling. 

The  German  Jew  looked  very  cross,  and  left  the  apartment  with  his  hands  behind  his 
back. 

A  little,  sharp,  fair-complexioned  lad  was  charged  by  a  warder  with  changing  places  on 
the  exercising  ground. 

Oov.  "Why  did  you  do  it,  boy? 

Warder.  He  wanted  to  go  alongside  of  some  one  he  knew. 

(The  lad  stood  mute,  with  his  hands  behind  his  back.) 

Oov.  Will  you  do  it  again  ? 

Fris.  No,  sir. 

Chv.  If  you  are  brought  before  me  another  time,  I  will  remember.  How  often  have 
you  been  reported  since  you  came  to  the  prison  ? 

Pm.  Twice,  sir. 

The  governor  remarked  to  us.  "For  the  past  eight  days  there  have" only  been  two 
punishments  inflicted,  which  was  done  by  stopping  the  bread  at  supper.  This  was  for  the 
offence  of  giving  and  receiving  bread. 

%•  Tlk$  Tread-wheel, — ^We  visited  the  tread-wheel,  which  is  worked  to  pump  waiier  for 
the  whole  prison,  and  situated  between  the  C  and  D  wings.  The  apartment  in  which  it 
is  contained  is  about  24  feet  6  inches  in  breadth,  and  54  feet  6  inches  in  length,  having  a 
small  inclosure  penned  off  opposite  the  wheel,  containing  machinery,  connecting  the  wheel 
with  the  pumps,  which  are  adjoining.  The  tread- wheel  consists  of  two  divisions  or  com- 
partments, the  larger  one  being  intended  for  the  adults,  and  the  smaller  for  juveniles 
There  are  sixteen  boxes  in  the  larger  compartment  and  eight  in  the  other. 

In  front  of  the  wheel  there  are  eighteen  inclosed  seats  erected  alongside  of  each  other 
in  the  larger  compartment,  where  the  prisoners  are  engaged  in  picking  oakum  in  the 
intervals  of  labour.  There  are  ten  boxea  in  the  smaller  compartments  where  the  juveniles 
work ;  two  of  them  being  generally  occupied  by  the  prisoners  engaged  on  the  Hnnfllflft  of 
the  pumps  in  the  inclosure  already  referred  to. 

There  are  two  warders  in  charge  of  the  tread-wheel,  one  on  the  one  side,  and  another 
on  the  other ;  all  of  which  arrangements  have  been  admirably  sketched  in  an  eDgrsvin^ 
given  in  a  former  part  of  the  work. 

Between  these  two  divisions,  and  on  the  right  hand  side  as  we  enter,  there  is  an  indosed 
space,  in  which  a  portion  of  the  machinery  is  situated,  and  a  well  has  been  sunk  to  the 
depth  of  370  feet,  from  which  the  water  is  pumped  by  the  treadmill,  and  conveyed  to 
large  tanks  on  the  top  of  the  building,  from  which  the  whole  of  the  prison  is  snpplied. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  ten  prisoners  engaged  in  the  larger  division  of  tlie 
wheel  and  eight  on  the  smaller,  and  two  of  them  were  bending  and  straining  at  the  pomp 
handles.  As  the  wheel  turned  steadily  round,  each  man  took  an  upward  step,  keeping 
time  with  the  velocity  of  the  wheel.  Some  had  stripped  off  their  jackets  to  work  with 
greater  freedom ;  several  were  toiling  lazily  at  the  work,  and  others  were  active  and  elastic, 
particularly  some  of  the  younger  lads,  who  took  it  remarkably  easy.  Host  of  them  were 
young  men,  varying  from  sixteen  to  thirty-five  years  of  age,  many  of  them  being  short  and 
active,  and  evidently  felons  of  the  metropolis.  One  or  two  of  them  appeared  to  be  darks  or 
shopmen,  from  their  superior  look  and  manner  even  in  the  prison  dress.  One  man, 
advanced  in  Hfe,  sat  on  one  of  the  seats  near  us,  with  a  heavy,  stupid  countenance,-  nuuBjr 


HOUSE  OF  COREECTION,  HOUOWAT,  571 

of  the  others  had  the  keen  sharp  eye  and  roguish  look,  characteristic  of  many  of  onr 
London  felons. 

Those  sitting  in  the  seats  in  front  were  busy  picking  oakum,  in  the  interval  of  tread-wheel 
labour,  as  they  were  occasionally  relieved  from  the  wheel,  and  others  took  their  places.  They 
did  not  appear  to  be  so  flEitigued  with  the  hard  labour  as  we  expected — not  nearly  so  much 
as  those  toiling  at  the  hand-mills  in  the  separate  ceUs  in  Wandsworth  prison* 

One  of  the  prisoners,  a  young  man  who  had  been  slightly  indisposed,  was  offered  some 
medicine  by  one  of  the  warders,  but  refused  to  take  it^  and  was  chided  for  his  disobedience 
by  the  reception  warder  who  accompanied  us. 

There  is  a  bell  attached  to  the  wheel,  which  rings  every  two  minutes  and  a  half,  marking 
a  certain  number  of  revolutions.  At  certain  intervals,  three  prisoners  come  down  &om  the 
wheel,  and  other  three  leave  the  seats  in  the  area,  and  take  their  places. 

Each  man,  on  going  to  the  wheel,  steps  up  on  a  form  in  front,  and  thence  plants  one  foot 
on  the  wheel,  at  the  same  time  laying  hold  with  his  hand  on  an  iron  handle  to  keep  himself 
in  an  upright  position.  In  the  event  of  his  not  keeping  pace  with  the  wheel,  he  is  brought 
down,  and  liable  to  be  injured.  From  the  motive  of  self-preservation,  he  is  compelled  to 
keep  pace  with  it.  At  the  top  of  each  box  or  inclosure  there  is  a  ventilator  for  the  admis- 
sion of  fresh  air,  and  it  is  numbered  in  the  inside,  by  which  number  the  prisoner  is  called 
when  there  is  occasion.  Glliere  is  a  corresponding  number  on  the  outside,  for  the  use  of  the 
oficer  on  duty. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  shed  on  the  left  hand,  there  is  a  water-doset,  and  upon  the  walls 
on  either  side  is  a  notice  that  silence  is  to  be  strictly  observed.  G^ie  building  is  well  lighted 
and  ventilated. 

Each  prisoner  remains  on  the  wheel  for  twenty  minutes  at  a  time,  and  alternately  picks 
oakum  in  the  seats  in  front  for  other  twenty  minutes.  The  wheel  is  five  feet  in  diameter, 
and  makes  three  revolutions  in  two  minutes  and  a  half. 

The  tread-wheel  labour  generally  lasts  from  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  four  o'dock 
in  the  afternoon,  with  the  exception  of  the  hours  spent  in  chapel,  at  meals,  etc.  The  pri- 
soners are  employed  on  the  wheel  on  an  average  of  four  hours  and  a  half  per  day.  The  labour 
IB  not  very  oppressive  to  a  considerable  number  of  them.  Some,  however,  appear  to  be  very 
fatigued  at  the  close  of  the  day.  We  observed  a  long  file  of  prisoners  from  the  tread-miU 
passing  through  one  of  the  corridors  on  their  way  to  their  cells,  who  were,  apparently,  in  no 
way  exhausted  with  their  day's  task. 

The  average  amount  of  distance  travelled  by  the  prisoners  on  the  wheel  is  about  6500 
feet  in  winter,  and  about  8700  feet  in  summer — ^much  below  the  maximum  height  allowed 
by  law,  which  is  11,000  feet.  When  sufficient  water  is  obtained  the  prisonei's  are  taken  off 
and  placed  at  more  remunerative  labour. 

The  greatest  regularity  and  good  order  prevail  here. 

Adjoining  the  treadwheel  and  attached  to  it  is  a  shed  covered  with  zinc,  con- 
taining twenty-two  separate  stalls,  with  a  pump-handle  in  each,  to  give  additional 
assistance  to  tiie  wheel  if  necessary,  as  both  can  be  employed  to  pump  water  for  the  use  of 
the  prison. 

%*  HxeroUing  Orounds, — There  are  five  exercising  grounds  attached  to  Holloway 
Prison — one  close  to  the  female  wing  on  one  side  of  the  courtyard  leading  into  the  prison, 
and  another  to  the  juvenile  wing  on  the  opposite  side,  and  three  at  the  back  of  the  main 
prison,  one  of  them  near  the  end  of  B  wing,  another  near  to  the  C  wing,  and  a  third  between 
the  B  and  C  wings,  as  seen  in  thfe  bird's-eye  view  of  the  prison. 

Leaving  the  tread- wheel,  we  visited  the  adidt  exercising  grounds;  The  prisoners  were 
then  actively  engaged  in  exercise  in  the  various  concentric  circles,  all  within  sight  of  each 
other,  attended  by  several  wardersi  and  under  the  inspection  of  one  of  the  principal  warders. 

42 


672  THE  GREAT  WOBLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  spaces  between  the  two  extreme  exercising  concentrio  circles  were  planted  with  Idtchexi 
Tcgetables,  while  the  central  one  was  a  hard  beaten  portion  of  ground  between  the  B  and  C 
wings,  which  had  not  been  planted,  but  is  used  as  a  drying  ground.  There  are  fonr  iron 
posts  in  the  latter,  to  which  drying  lines  are  attached,  with  a  lamp  in  the  centre  lighted 
with  gas  at  dusk. 

The  day  of  our  visit  was  bitterly  cold,  and  the  prisoners  were  walking  smarfiy  along  to 
keep  themselves  in  heat,  particularly  in  the  central  ground,  where  they  huiried  round  in 
double  quick  time.  Many  of  them  were  pale  and  shivering  firom  the  keen  biting  air ;  others 
were  of  a  bluish  tint,  and  some  of  tiieir  cheeks  were  of  a  dull  red.  They  generally  kept 
about  three  yards  apart  from  each  other.  The  generality  of  them  were  of  the  ordinary  felem 
stock.  In  the  prison-dress  it  would,  in  many  cases,  be  difficult  to  distinguish  the  casual 
from  the  habitual  offender.  There  was  less  military  precision  in  their  movements  on  this 
occasion  than  in  the  case  of  the  gloomy  masked  men  at  Wandsworth  and  Pentonvill%  hurt 
this  we  believe,  was  owing  to  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 

There  is  a  carriage-drive  around  the  back  of  the  prison.  The  surroimding  gioimdB  «i^ 
planted  with  kitchen  vegetables  of  various  descriptions,  ibr  the  use  of  the  prisoners^  and  with 
a  large  quantity  of  mangold-wurzel,  which  is  sold  to  dairies. 

There  is  a  pavement  extending  around  the  exterior  of  the  wings,  about  six  feet  ia  bceadlli^ 
close  to  the  prison. 

While  we  stood  in  the  garden  along  with  the  reception  warder,  overlooking  tiiis  livelj 
scene,  we  saw  another  gang  of  prisoners  taken  out  to  replace  this  detachment  whidi  was 
removed  to  the  different  corridors. 

The  adult  exercising  grounds  are  fenced  by  a  lofty  wall  stretching  across  from  the  ex- 
tremity of  the  D  wing  to  the  boundary  wall  separating  it  from  the  grounds  attached  to  the 
female  wing,  and  from  the  extremity  of  the  A  wing  to  the  opposite  boundary  wall,  dividing 
it  from  the  garden  attached  to  the  juvenile  prison.  The  exercising  circles  are  overlooked  by 
the  range  of  houses  on  the  left  hand. 

We  were  conducted  into  the  garden  attached  to  Ihe  female  prison,  where  we  found  the 
warder  in  charge,  perched  on  a  ladder  placed  against  the  wall,  overlooking  five  of  the  pii- 
soners,  mostly  young  lads,  engaged  in  removing  earth  from  a  mound  to  fill  up  a  oesspool  at 
the  comer  of  the  garden.  On  being  introduced  to  him,  he  stated,  *'  It  is  my  duty  to  si^er. 
intend  the  gardening  operations.  At  present  I  have  twelve  men  agisting  me  over  the  grounds. 
In  general  I  have  from  ten  to  twenty.  We  sow  and  plant  a  large  quantity  of  potatoei^ 
leeks,  cabbage,  and  other  vegetables,  for  the  supply  of  the  prison. 


%*  21b  Eitehen. — ^We  visited  the  kitchen,  situated  in  the  basement  of  D  wing,  and 
introduced  to  the  cook.    It  was  then  about  mid-day.    He  was  busily  engaged  pn^ariag 
dinner,  which  was  about  to  be  served  up. 

There  are  six  large  boilers  in  the  kitchen  with  copper  lids — each  of  them  having  a  steam 
pipe  communicating  with  a  large  boiler  in  an  adjoining  recess.  One  boiler  contained  a  large 
quantity  of  broth,  with  huge  pieces  of  beef.  The  cook  uplifted  several  of  them  on  a  large 
foric ;  Ihey  appeared  to  be  of  excellent  quality.  They  were  carried  away  by  one  of  the 
prisoners  in  attendance,  to  be  cut  up  into  small  portions  to  be  put  into  the  dining  tins^  and 
distributed  to  the  various  prisoners  in  the  different  ceUs.  We  had  a  small  quantii^  of  soop 
served  up  to  us,  which  was  veiy  wholesome  and  palatable. 

Another  boiler  contained  a  large  quantity  of  potatoes  which  had  just  been  cooked.  They 
were  York  Begents  of  an  excellent  quality. 

A  different  boiler  contained  an  enormous  quantity  of  gruel,  made  of  the  best  Sooteh 
oatmeal,  to  be  served  out  for  supper  in  the  evening.  It  was  filled  to  the  brim,  with  a  white 
creamy  paste  mantling  on  the  surface.  Cocoa  is  given  on  alternate  days,  and  is  prepared  ia 
the  other  coppers  we  saw  alongside. 


HOUSE  OP  COBBJECTION,  HOLLOWAY.  678 

Oar  readers  have  been  furnished  with  an  excellent  engraving  of  the  interior  of  the  kitchen 
in  a  foregoing  part  of  the  work. 

There  are  three  doors  leading  through  to  a  large  central  apartment,  which  contains  a 
long  table  on  the  side  next  the  scullery,  \ised  for  cutting  up  the  bread  and  weighing  it  out^ 
and  another  table  at  the  extremity  on  the  lefb  hand,  used  for  cutting  up  the  meat  on  those 
days  when  soup  is  prepared.  We  observed  a  large  fireplace  here  used  for  cooking  such  arUdas 
as  are  ordered  by  the  surgeon  for  the  use  of  the  infirmary,  with  an  oven  attached  to  it. 

The  kitchen  is  paved  with  York  slab,  and  neatly  pencilled.  There  is  a  gas  bracket 
suspended  from  the  roof  in  the  centre,  and  over  the  door  leading  into  the  cutting-up  room  is 
a  dial  for  the  convenience  of  the  cook. 

We  passed  on  to  the  scullery,  which  contains  two  sinks  for  the  purpose  of  waidiing 
the  tins  and  other  dishes.  They  are  supplied  with  a  tap  at  each  end,  one  suppl3ring  hot,  and 
the  other  cold  water.  The  bread  trays  are  deposited  on  a  table  at  the  ^e  of  the  room 
when  not  in  use,  and  the  bright  tins  are  carefully  set  in  rows  on  a  rack  on  another  side. 
Here  we  found  a  prisoner  with  some  broth  and  mutton,  which  had  been  prepared  for  the  use 
of  the  infirmary. 

We  proceeded  into  the  cutting-up  room,  where  we  found  several  prisoners,  assistants 
of  the  cook,  cutting  up  the  meat  for  dinner,  on  a  large  table,  while  others  were  engaged 
in  filling  the  pannikins  with  potatoes  and  meat  for  dinner.  Each  pannikin  is  divided  into 
two  compartments,  one  containing  potatoes,  and  the  other  meat,  each  pannikin  being  furnished 
with  a  knife. 

The  cook  generally  has  four  assistants  in  his  work.  An  additional  hand  is  occasionally 
employed  in  the  kitchen,  who  helps  the  engineer  in  attending  to  the  furnace  and  other 
duties. 

The  greater  part  of  the  long  table  in  the  cutting-up  room  was  covered  with  trays  fitted 
with  dinner  tins,  and  the  floor  was  also  littered  with  them. 

On  the  wall  is  suspended  a  long  dark  board  for  the  cook's  guidance,  with  a  note  of  the 
provisions  to  be  served  out  to  the  different  wards.  It  is  corrected  every  moming  by  one  of 
the  piincipal  warders,  who  gives  the  necessary  instructions. 

We  passed  on  to  a  large  apartment  nearly  of- a  semi-circular  form,  situated  under  the 
eentral  hall.  At  each  end  is  a  windlass  for  hoisting  up  provisions  to  the  various  corridors, 
and  in  the  centre  is  a  spiral  staircase  leading  up  through  the  central  hall  to  the  galleries  of 
the  prison. 

We  asceuded  to  the  central  hall,  and  saw  the  principal  warder  in  charge  superintending 
the  serving  up  of  the  dinner.  The  trays  were  conveyed  along  to  the  extremity  of  the 
different  galleries  on  food  carriages,  similar  to  the  mode  pursued  in  PentonviUe  and  other 
prisons.    This  operation  was  executed  with  great  order  and  despatch. 

In  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  the  cook  informed  us; — '*The  fire  is  generally  lit 
about  three  o'clock  in  the  mom  jpg  by  one  of  the  night  watchmen,  when  the  steam  is  got  up 
to  prepare  the  gruel  or  cocoa,  served  up  for  breakfast  on  alternate  days. 

"  I  begin  my  duties,"  said  the  cook,  ''  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  moming,  when  the  gruel 
and  cocoa  is  served  up  with  bread  to  the  different  corridors ;  sometimes  cocoa  and  bread,  at 
other  times  gruel  and  bread.  These  are  the  breakfast  operations.  The  butcher  in  general 
arrives  about  ten  o'clock,  when  we  prepare  for  dinner,  consisting  of  meat  and  potatoes,  or 
soup  and  potatoes,  which  are  served  up  at  one  o'clock  to  all  the  branches  of  the  prison. 

''The  gruel  for  supper  is  prepared  at  an  early  period  of  the  day,  generally  at  dinner-time, 
and  stands  in  the  copper  for  several  hours.  By  this  means  it  becomes  thicker,  and  its 
qualities  are  improved,  and  besides  it  economizes  our  fad.  The  bread  is  cut  and  weighed 
out,  to  be  served  up  with  the  gmel  for  the  prisoners'  supper,  which  ends  the  culinary 
operations  of  the  day." 

We  were  informed  there  is  no  baker  in  the  prison.    The  bread  is  contracted  for  by  a 


674  THE  GREAT  VOELD  OF  LONDON, 

tradesman  in  the  Metropolis^  who  supplies  the  prison  every  day.  It  is  made  of  seoond  flonri 
and  we  found  it  to  be  of  excellent  quality. 

We  proceeded  to  the  D  wing  in  company  with  the  chief  warder.  On  visiting  the  cells 
we  found  a  number  of  prisoners  engaged  picking  oakum.  As  we  passed  along,  we  found  it 
was  an  imperative  duty  in  this  prison  for  the  prisoners  to  shut  the  doors  of  their  cells^  and  at 
the  same  time  for  the  officer  to  test  their  being  closed. 

We  visited  the  basement  of  corridor  J),  where  there  are  eight  large  commodious  baths, 
similar  to  those  we  found  in  the  reception  ward.  We  passed  through  a  door  into  a 
passage,  where  there  were  several  punishment  cells,  all  of  them  then  empty.  We  learned 
there  are  very  few  punishments  inflicted  in  this  prison. 

The  doors  resemble  those  of  ordinary  cells :  about  five  feet  distant  is  another  door,  which 
deadens  the  noise  created  by  any  re&actory  prisoner.  At  present  there  are  six  dark  ceUa, 
but  originally  there  were  sixteen.  Ten  of  them  have  been. made  into  a  workshop,  "  and  it 
is  contemplated,"  said  the  governor  to  us,  ''to  convert  three  of  the  present  number  into  light 
cells." 

%*  l^e  EngineerU  Bepartmefii. — ^We  were  introduced  to  the  engineer  of  the  prison,  who 
conducted  us  to  the  heating  apparatus,  or  furnace-room,  situated  in  the  basement  under  the 
surgeon's  room,  beneath  the  wide  passage  or  haU  conducting  to  the  main  prison,  of  which 
our  artist  has  ftirnished  an  engraving.  ^ 

''  These,"  said  the  engineer,  pointing  to  the  other  side  of  the  apartment^  **  are  the  boilers 
where  we  heat  our  water  to  warm  all  the  cells  in  the  prison,*  as  weU  as  the  chapel  and 
other  offices.  You  obsei^e  four  square  boilers  ranged  in  a  row  in  this  apartment,  heated 
by  means  of  furnaces  undezground,  and  there  are  the  pipes  conducting  from  them  into  the 
main  prison. 

''  The  boiler  on  the  left-hand  side  heats  the  A  and  B  wing ;  the  one  next  to  it  heats  the 
juvenile  wing,  and  a  portion  of  the  chapel  and  the  reception  c^.  The  adjoining  one  wanns 
the  female  wing  and  the  other  portion  of  the  chapel.  The  boiler  on  the  right-hand  warms 
the  C  and  D  wings. 

The  engineer  called  our  attention  to  several  flow-pipes^  which  run  along  each  wing 
in  flues,  connected  with  the  cells  in  the  corridors,  and  then  flow  into  the  basement  cells- 
Erom  thence  the  return-pipes  flow  into  a  boiler  supplied  by  the  expansion  dstem,  ox  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  flow-pipe.  ''You  observe,"  said  he,  "that  cluster  of  four  pipes 
connected  with  the  female  and  juvenile  wings,  chapel,  and  reception  cells. 

"  We  keep  the  flres  burning  night  and  day  when  the  weather  is  cold,  keeping  the  tem- 
perature  up  in  the  winter,  which  renders  the  cells  very  healthy,  with  a  sufficient  quantity 
of  warm  air  passing  into  them  continually  from  the  flues,  where  the  hot-water  pipes  are. 

"  Each  of  the  cells  has  an  extraction  flue  that  conveys  the  impure  air  into  a  large  flue  on 
the  roof  of  each  wing,  and  these  large  flues  are  connected  witft,  and  discharge  themselves  into, 
the  ventilating  shaft." 

The  heating  apparatus  room  is  of  considerable  size,  with  a  deep  sunk  passage  in  the 
centre,  where  the  stokers  trim  the  fire,  as  seen  in  the  engraving.  It  is  lighted  by  two  iitm 
grated  windows  on  each  side,  and  has  a  stone  staircase  leading  down  to  the  furnaces. 

In  the  comer  on  the  left-hand  there  is  a  large  dstem  containing  hot  water,  to  supply 
the  baths  in  the  reception  ward,  and  likewise  for  the  baths  given  to  the  prisoners  in  the 
various  corridors,  in  winter  once  a  month,  in  summer  once  a  fortnight.  It  generallj 
contains  about  500  gallons,  and  is  heated  by  means  of  steam  conveyed  from  the  steam 
boiler  in  the  ventilating  shaft. 

We  thereupon  went  to  the  central  hall,  where  we  entered  a  small  apartment  at  the  end 
of  D  wing,  containing  two  large  cisterns  connected  with  the  boilers  in  the  furnace-room. 
They  answer  two  purposes-— one  of  them  fills  the  pipes  with  cold  water,  and  the  other 


HOUSE  OF  COBBECTION  HOLLOWAY.  675 

allows  the  water  as  it  heats  to  expand.    Two  lai^e  flow-pipes  are  extended  along  the 

centre  of  the  apartment  connected  with  the  expansion  cistern^  and  in  addition  to  this^  there 
is  a  supply  pipe  to  fiU  the  cistern  with  water. 

"We  proceeded  with  the  engineer  to  the  hase  of  the  lofty  ventilating  shaft  of  the  prison, 
which  adjoins  the  Idtchen,  and  is  situated  at  the  angle  of  the  G  and  D  wings.  "  You  see/*  said 
the  engineer,  "  this  large  mass  of  iron  work,  which  is  an  iron  funnel  extending  to  the  top  of 
the  central  tower.  I  shall  tell  you  the  use  of  this.  In  the  summer  time,  when  the 
weather  is  hot,  we  are  obliged  to  keep  a  large  fire  in  the  centre  of  the  shaft  to  assist  our 
ventilation,  as  the  air  must  be  kept  warmer  in  the  shaft  than  the  atmosphere  passing 
through  the  cells,  as  othenvise  they  would  not  be  satisfactorily  ventilated,  and  the  air  would 
not  pass  properly  through."  Within  the  iron  fannel  in  the  shaft,  there  are  three  large 
square  iron  flues  connected  with  the  horizontal  flues  underground*  for  conveying  the  smoke 
from  diflerent  fireplaces,  such  as  in  the  steward's  office,  laundry,  etc. 

In  this  room  we  also  observed  two  large  steam  boilers  on  a  level  with  the  floor,  used 
for  cooking  the  prisoners*  food,  and  likewise  for  heating  the  water  in  the  cistern  in  the 
ftimace  room  to  bathe  the  prisoners. 

The  engineer  then  conducted  us  to  his  workshop,  situated  in  the  basement  of  C  wing 
adjoining  the  carpenter's  shop.  The  walls  were  decorated  with  a  large  assortment  of  iron 
tools  of  various  descriptions,  used  in  operations  over  the  prison,  all  carefully  arranged. 
At  one  end  of  .ti^ie^shop  was  an  iron  turning-lathe,  and  a  bench  with  two  iron  vices 
attached  to  it. 

We  passed  on  to  the  pumps  worked  by  the  tread-wheel.  In  a  small  recess  connected 
with  the  tread- wheel  shed,  we  found  two  prisoners  busy  at  work  on  a  cross  handle,  assisting 
the  tread-wheel  in  pumping  water,  and  likewise  a  large  fly-wheel  close  to  the  wall,  a  shaft 
being  connected  with  it  at  one  end,  and  an  eccentric  wheel  at  the  other,  with  which  the  rods 
of  the  pumps  ore  connected.  Prom  the  eccentric  wheel  are  two  iron  arms  connected  with 
the  shaft,  and  by  this  means  the  water  is  pumped  and  conveyed  to  cisterns  on  the  top  of 
the  entrance  of  the  building,  at  an  eleva'tion  of  eighty-five  feet  from  the  ground. 

*'  We  usually  pump,"  said  the  engineer,  *'  1300  gallons  per  hour,  with  one  single  strong 
pump,  taking  an  eighteen  inch  stroke.  The  pumps  are  situated  in  the  well,  150  feet  from 
the  surface  of  the  ground.  The  well  is  870  feet  deep,  but  the  water  rises  up  within  five  feet 
of  the  pump. 

We  were  then  introduced  to  the  carpenter.  He  stated  to  us,  "  We  have  very  seldom 
good  carpenters  here ;  I  have  at  present  two  prisoners  engaged  with  me  in  my  shop.  They 
have  been  trained  to  this  kind  of  work,  but  are  not  good  workmen,  and  I  employ  them  in 
the  general  repairs  of  the  prison,  and  in  the  houses  of  the  chaplain  and  governor.  We  only 
engage  those  men  to  work  hero  who  have  been  accustomed  to  this  employment  out  of  doors. 
I  and  my  assistants  execute  all  the  carpenter's  work  required  in  the  prison. 

\^  VtsUmg  the  Frisanera  in  their  Cells ,r-^^  accompanied  the  chief  warder  to  conidor 
C,  to  visit  several  of  the  more  remarkable  of  the  various  classes  of  prisoners  confined  there ; 
so  that  we  might  have  a  more  just  and  discriminating  acquaintance  with  the  special  character 
of  Holloway  PrisoQ. 

On  entering  one  of  the  cells  we  saw  a  daTk  complcxioned  man  of  short  stature,  a  Dutch 
Jew.  He  hod  a  broad  face,  and  a  brow  of  a  peculiar  form,  sloping  suddenly  back,  with 
fuU  dark  eyes.  He  hod  been  guilty  of  using  threats,  and  did  not  find  the  necessary  security 
for  his  future  good  conduct.  He  told  us  he  was  bom  in  Amsterdam,  and  was  a  dgor-makcr 
by  trade.  By  his  own  confession,  ''he  took  drink — dat  vas  do  reason  he  got  into 
trouble." 

We  went  into  another  cell  along  with  the  governor,  who  was  going  his  stated  rounds 
over  the  prison.    We  found  here  a  robust,  well*formed  youth,  of  twenty-one  years  of  oge, 


676  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OP  LOKBOIT. 

about  five  feet  six  in  height,  with  a  particularly  finely  fonned  countenance.    On  looking  at 
his  card,  we  learned  he  was  under  confinement  for  picking  pockets. 

Chv.  "  This  is  one  of  the  cleverest  lads  I  have  got  in  the  prison."  Turning  to  the  pri- 
soner, he  added,  **  I  am  willing  to  take  you  by  the  hand  and  assist  you,  if  you  will 
co-operate  with  me.    Are  you  willing  to  go  home  to  your  Mends  ?" 

Pris.  (His  rich  dark  eye  glistening  with  interest).  Yes,  sir,  I  shall  go  home  to  New- 
castle, and  leave  London. 

Gov,  I  will  write  to  your  friends,  and  tell  them  to  take  back  their  prodigal  son*    Per- 
haps you  will  write  yourself.     Will  you  do  so  now  ? 
JPru.  Yes,  I  will. 

Oov*  (Turning  to  us  and  the  chief  warder).  This  young  man  will  learn  any  trade  with 
the  greatest  expertness. 

When  the  governor  had  retired,  the  prisoner  informed  us,  in  answer  to  our  inquiries, 
that  he  had  been  a  thief  for  the  past  twelve  years — had  chiefly  been  engaged  in  picking 
pockets,  and  belonged  to  the  cleverest  class  except  those  who  firequent  the  banks.  He  is 
remarkably  expert  in  stealing  from,  ladies'  pockets.  He  was  over  in  Paris  twice,  and  had 
made  excursions  to  the  leading  towns  in  Scotland,  where  he  had  been  very  successful  in 
picking  pockets.  In  Paris  he  found  double  trouble  in  stealing  from  ladies,  as  they  have  two 
pockets,  one  on  each  side.  He  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to  public  assemblies  in  London,  of 
various  kinds,  as  well  as  to  churches,  and  committing  depredations.  He  had  onoe  been 
arrested  at  Calais,  in  company  with  two  known  pickpockets,  and  was  sent  over  the  Kngtish 
channel  as  a  suspicious  character — ^his  fare  having  been  paid  out  of  the  money  he  had  on  his 
person  at  the  time  of  his  arrest. 

Li  another  cell  we  found  a  modest-looking  man,  with  reddish  hair.  He  was  rather 
under  the  middle  height,  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  and  confined  for  picking  pockets. 
He  told  UB  he  had  entered  into  crime  when  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age.  He  chiefly  lived 
by  picking  pockets,  and  generally  frequented  Newingto9  Causeway  or  the  Borough,  and  went 
to  all  the  fairs,  and  to  the  west-end  theatres. 

Li  a  cell  adjoining  we  found  a  plain-looking  man,  about  thirty  years  of  age,  who  had 
been  imprisoned  for  stealing  pewter  pint-pots  in  the  City,  and  was  detected  by  the  police 
when  endeavouring  to  sell  them  to  a  marine-store  dealer.  He  told  the  chief  warder  it  was 
done  to  support  his  wife  and  family,  who  were  in  extreme  want. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  quiet-looking  man,  of  forty  years  of  age,  sentenced  to  two 
calendar  months  for  the  unlawful  possession  of  two  doormats.  He  had  formerly  been  a  brick- 
layer's labourer,  and  was  employed  in  building  the  very  prison  in  which  he  was  oonfin^ 
Since  that  time  he  had  fought  as  a  soldier  in  the  Crimea  during  the  Russian  war.  He  was 
an  Irishman,  and  belonged  to  Dublin. 

We  next  visited  several  of  the  cells  in  corridor  D,  the  only  wing  of  the  main  prison 
which  remained  to  be  visited. 

Id  one  of  them  we  saw  a  stout-made  young  man,  of  short  stature  and  dark  complexiaD, 
about  twenty-one  years  of  age,  with  nothing  very  striking  in  his  appearance.  He  stood  with 
a  piece  of  junk  he  had  been  picking  in  his  hand.  He  had  been  stealing  for  the  past  five 
years.  Of  late,  he  has  chiefly  rifled  gentlemen's  pockets  of  watches,  etc.  He  had  some- 
times succeeded  in  getting  £50  at  a  time,  and  was  most  successful  at  fairs.  He  was  a 
hawker,  and  his  father  travels  the  country,  selling  hardware.  He  said  he  would  willingly 
work  in  any  honest  way  if  he  had  any  one  to  assist  him,  but  was  not  inclined  to  go  into  a 
reformatory. 

He  further  added,  in  answer  to  the  interrogatories  of  the  chief  warder,  that  he  generally 
went  to  work  with  a  man,  and  sometimes  a  woman,  who  acted  as  a  stall.  He  considBied 
that  to  take  six  watches,  was  a  good  day's  work. 

In  one  of  the  cells  we  saw  a  young  man,  of  about  tw*3nty-one  years  of  age|  with  a  atrapge 


HOUSE  OF  COERECTIOIT,  HOLLOWAY.  677 

c<mical-8&aped  head,  broad  at  the  underface,  and  very  narrow  towards  the  top  of  the  head. 
The  chief  warder  remarked  to  ns  that  the  prisoner  was  suffering  from  disease  in  his  legs, 
owing  to  a  family  complaint,  and  also  by  fast  life.  He  is  confined  six  calendar  months  for 
stealing  a  handkerchief,  and  has  been  no  less  than  fourteen  times  in  HoUoway  Prison,  and  in 
sereral  other  prisons  besides. 

On  going  into  the  next  cell,  we  found  another  prisoner,  aged  about  forty-five  years,  a  cab- 
man, who  told  us  a  very  doleful  story*  He  had  been  intrusted  with  a  chest  of  tea  by  some 
party  unknown  to  convey  in  his  cab  to  a  particular  place  in  the  metropolis.  He  supposes 
the  police  were  after  the  man  who  had  hired  him,  as  he  made  his  escape  immediately  after  he 
had  given  the  property  into  his  custody.  For  the  unlawful  possession  of  this  chest  of 
tea«  he  had  received  a  sentence  of  twelve  months'  impiisonment  with  hard  labour.  He  has 
a  wife  and  fEmiily,  for  whom  he  appeared  to  be  much  concerned. 

In  one  of  the  cells  we  saw  a  remarkably  good-looking,  fresh-complexioned  boy,  of  about 
seventeen  years  of  age,  very  handsome,  and  apparently  very  intelligent.  The  governor  re- 
marked that,  when  genteelly  dressed,  he  might  pass  for  a  nobleman*s  son.  The  chief  warder 
stated  he  had  been  several  times  in  prison.  On  this  occasion  he  was  imprisoned  eighteen 
calendar  months  for  picking  pockets.  He  had  at  one  time  been  confined  in  West- 
minster BrideweU  for  two  months,  and  was  afterwards  removed  to  a  reformatory  at  Beigate 
for  two  years.  He  served  his  time  there,  and  got  a  situation  in  one  of  the  telegraph  offices 
in  the  metropolis,  where  he  remained  for  two  months.  He  said  that  he  had  left  of  his  own 
accord,  as  he  was  about  to  be  punished  for  making  a  mistake  in  a  message.  He  got  another 
situation,  and  remained  there  two  or  three  weeks,  when  he  rejoined  his  old  companions  in 
Keate  Street,  Spitalfields.  Since  then  he  has  been  six  times  in  prison.  The  governor  in- 
formed TLB  that  the  authorities  of  the  prison  had  taken  the  greatest  interest  in  this  boy,  but 
he  was  afitaid  it  was  all  in  vain.  The  governor  asked  him  if  he  would  go  to  a  reformatory 
on  being  released  from  prison,  but  he  did  not  relish  this  proposal* 

Gov.  If  I  had  a  house  adjoining  the  prison  where  I  could  learn  this  boy  a  trade,  and 
have  him  under  my  eye  for  five  years,  he  would  become  a  useful  member  of  society ;  but 
leave  him  to  his  old  eompanicms,  and  he  will  one  day  be  transported. 

The  boy  was  meantime  smiling  in  his  usual  light-hearted,  thoughtless  manner. 

Oov.  Have  you  any  Mends  to  take  an  interest  in  you  ? 

TrU,  I  don't  know,  sir.  I  have  got  no  father.  My  mother  lives  at  Bethnal  Green,  and 
is  a  nurse.    I  have  not  seen  her  for  two  years. 

This  poor  lad  is  a  remarkably  fair  specimen  of  many  others  who  have  a  good  dispontion, 
but  are  led  thoughtiessly  astray  by  those  bad  associates  and  pernicious  influences  which 
abound  in  our  great  metropolis. 

Before  leaving  corridor  B,  we  were  very  desirous  to  see  two  other  prisoners,  remarkably 
expert  thieves,  the  one  a  lobby-sneak,  and  the  other  a  burglar ;  but  they  were  not  then  in 
their  cells.  We  accompanied  the  chief  warder  to  his  office,  where  they  were  shortiy  after- 
wards introduced  to  us. 

The  first  was  a  middle-sized  man,  of  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  with  pale  face,  small 
gray  eyes,  and  gentie  manner.  In  answer  to  the  interrogatories  of  the  chief  warder,  he 
stated  that  his  parents  were  respectable  people,  residing  in  the  Borough.  He  began  his 
criminal  career  by  stealing  from  his  mother's  till,  and  had  ran  away  £rom  school,  and  left 
his  home  at  about  ten  years  of  age.  In  the  course  of  his  life  he  had  been  engaged  in  two 
burglaries,  and  had  slipped  into  houses  and  committed  felonies  innumerable  times — ^he  could 
not  tell  how  many.  He  had  also  been  a  good  pickpocket  in  his  day,  but  had  now  lost  the 
nerve.  He  was  once  transported,  and  had  been  confined  in  prison  about  seventeen  years 
altogether. 

He  told  us  he  had  never  been  rogue  and  fool  enough  to  get  married.  To  use  his*  own 
words,  '<  I  should  have  considered  myself  a  fool  if  I  had  married  one  of  my  own  class  of 


6?8  THE  GEEAT  VOELD  OF  LONDON. 

people,  beoanse  I  knew  very  well  in  my  own  mind,  or  by  experience,  that  wben  I  got  into 
trouble,  she  wonld  be  playing  the  harlot  with  some  one  else,  and  I  was  never  rogae  enough 
to  take  an  inofiensiye  female  from  her  home  and  deoeive  her  with  professing  what  I  never 
was  or  intended  to  be." 

He  added,  ''  I  often  committed  my  felonies  by  means  of  false  keys,  and  by  entering  fim* 
lights  and  by  the  windows  at  the  back  of  the  house.  I  have  taken  a  great  quantity  of  plate 
by  sneaking  in  the  areas." 

When  he  got  into  prison  on  this  occasion  he  was  out  beg^ng.  The  steel  had  been  taken 
out  of  him,  and  he  was  hard  up. 

The  other  prisoner  brought  into  the  chief  warder's  office  was  a  smart,  vigorous,  intelli'i 
gent  young  man,  of  about  five  feet  seven  inches  in  height^  with  a  fine  broad  brow  and  well- 
formed  countenance.  He  had  a  keen,  penetrating  eye,  which  twinkled  with  humour  and 
was  very  frank  and  communicative. 

He  informed  us  he  was  bom  in  Scotland,  the  son  of  Scotch  parents.  !^e  had  engaged  in 
almost  every  kind  of  felony,  and  had  committed  many  housebreakings  and  burglaries.  He 
did  not  use  the  mask  in  his  burglaries,  and  considered  they  were  only  apprentice  boys  at 
their  work  who  did  so.  He  was  exceedingly  nimble,  and  could  dimb  to  a  housetop  by  the 
spout  as  quickly  as  a  person  could  go  up  a  stair. 

On  one  occasion  he  went  out  at  midnight,  with  other  four  companions,  to  plunder  a 
jeweller's  shop  in  the  metropolis.  They  were  detected  by  a  policeman,  who  sprang  his 
rattle,  when  other  officers  came  up.  Two  of  his  pals  struggled  with  the  former  and  nearly 
killed  him ;  he  and  another  buiglar  ran  away  in  the  direction  of  the  Thames.  On  that 
winter  evening,  being  hotly  pursued,  ho  swam  across  the  river  with  his  clothes  on.  He 
stated  that  he  had  been  a  thief  for  the  past  nine  years,  being  mostly  engaged  in  bur- 
glary, and  generally  worked  in  the  interior  of  the  house.  He  **  put  up  "  the  buiglaxies  he 
committed,  and  sometimes  cried  with  vexation  till  he  cleared  his  way  through  obstacles.  He 
had  been  a  sad  rake  among  the  girls,  and  before  his  arrest  had  kept  two  females.  He  has 
frequently  seen  large  advertisements  over  the  metropolis  offering  a  reward  for  the  detection 
of  buTglaries  he  had  committed,  but  which  could  not  be  traced  to  him. 

He  said  he  had  been  very  lucky  for  a  considerable  time,  and  had  made  the  (Sty  ring  with 
his  exploits.  He  believed  that  during  the  past  eighteen  months  he  had  got  about  £1500  by 
his  burglaries,  but  had  gambled  it  away  and  wasted  it. 

%*  3^  Juvenile  Wing  of  the  Prison  is  situated  to  the  left  of  the  reception  ward,  and  is 
reserved  exclusively  for  young  male  offenders  from  seventeen  years  of  age  and  downwards. 

On  entering  the  corridor,  we  were  introduced  to  Mr.  White,  one  of  the  warders,  who 
stated : — '*  At  present  we  have  nineteen  juveniles  under  seventeen  years  of  age.  Our  pri- 
soners here  are  under  the  same  routine  of  prison  discipline  as  in  the  other  corridors.  The 
boys  under  fourteen  years  of  age  are  exempted  from  hard  labour  by  Act  of  Parliament.  From 
the  nature  of  their  offence,*they  are  sometimes  sentenced  to  it,  as,  for  example,  in  poking 
pockets,  but  with  prisoners  of  those  tender  years  it  is  not  carried  into  efiect.  Instead  of 
working  at  the  treadwheel,  they  ore  employed  picking  oakum,  or  some  other  occupation. 

In  the  juvenile  wing  there  are  three  reception  cells  and  a  bath-room,  with  one  bath  of 
smaller  dimensions  than  those  in  the  adult  reception  ward,  and  also  a  store  of  prison  cloth- 
ing for  juveniles,  carefully  arranged,  along  with  a  store-room  containing  tiie  prisoners*  own 
clothing. 

There  is  a  staircase  leading  from  the  reception  ward  to  a  small  lobby  entering  into  the 
corridor.  On  the  right  side  of  it  are  four  small  wooden  compartments,  where  the  friends  and 
relatives  of  the  juveniles  visit  them.  These  are  covered  over  on  the  top  with  a  wire-soeen, 
similar  to  what  we  found  in  the  adult  branch  of  the  prison.  There  is  a  door  in  the  corridor 
by  which  the  prisQOers  are  introdaced  to  similar  compartments  on  the  other  side  of  the  visit* 


HOUSE  or  COERECnON,  HOLIOWAT,  679 

ing-room,  witli  another  door  in  the  centre,  ^ehere  a  warder  nsually  patrols  during  the  lime 
of  the  interview. 

There  are  six  refractiffy  cells  in  this  wii^  of  tiie  prison,  but  at  the  time  of  oar  visit  there 
were  no  prisoners  confined  in  them.  "  It  rarely  happens,"  said  Mr.  White,  ''  we  have  any 
delinquents  in  custody."  Tha?e  are  iew  ptuushmeiits  inflicted  in  this  prison,  yet  the  disci* 
pline  is  strictly  maintained. 

Adjoining  these  dark  cells  there  is  a  bath-room,  containing  two  oiiier  baths  for  the  use  of 
the  juvenile  prisoners. 

While  we  visited  this  corridor^  which  is  similar  in  fonn  and  dimensions  to  the  others, 
several  boys  were  engaged  sweepii^  and  cleaning  the  asphalt  floars.  dome  of  the  older 
lads  were  at  treadwheel  labour,  and  others  were  picking  oakum  and  plaiting  bass  in  their 
cells.  The  atmost  silence  prevailed  oTer  all  the  wards^  broken  only  by  the  occasional  tread 
of  a  warder  proceeding  along  one  of  the  galleries,  and  the  noise  of  the  cleaners  in  the  base- 
ment of  the  corridor  as  they  plied  l^eir  brushes  and  coc6a-nut  husk  rubbers  on  the  floor. 

We  visited  several  of  the  cells  along  with  the  governor,  who  was  then  going  his  usual 
ronnds  over  the  prison,  and  found  several  boys  picking  oakum.  We  inspected  them  on  a 
subsequent  occasion  with  Mr.  Grant,  the  reception  warder  of  the  adult  prison,  and  found 
them  similarly  occupied.  The  most  of  them  appeared  to  be  Irish  Cockneys — ^many  of  them 
of  the  ordinary  felon  character.  Some  of  them  were  smart  and  intelligent;  others  a^^eared 
to  be  didl  and  very  ignorant.  « 

Two  of  these  juveniles  were  afterwards  ushered  into  the  governor's  office,  the  one  a  clever 
sneak,  and  the  other  an  exceedingly  adroit  pickpocket. 

'  The  former  was  a  little  fair-complexioned  Irish  lad  of  about  sixteen  years  of  age,  with 
good  features.  He  stood  hefore  the  governor  with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  and  his  head 
leaning  to  one  side  in  a  timid  manner.  In  answer  to  various  interrogatories,  he  stated  that  his. 
mother  was  dead,  and  his  mother-in-law,  who  is  addicted  to  dissipated  habits,  ill-treated 
him.  He  confessed  he  had  commenced  to  steal  when  he  was  eleven  years  of  age,  and  had 
been  six  times  in  prison.  He  did  not  pick  pockets,  but  stole  from  shops  along  with  a  com- . 
panion.  He  generally  went  in  and  the  other  boy  remained  vrithout.  He  thought  it  was 
safer  for  him  to  go  in,  and  hand  the  article  stolen  to  the  boy  at  the  door,  who  ran  off  with 
it.  If  he  was  caught  there  would  be  nothing  found  upon  him,  and  he  had  a  better  chance  of 
escaping.  He  lived  in  Keate  Street,  Spitalfields.  On  one  occasion  he  stole  a  pair  of  boots,  on 
another  he  took  a  ham,  then  a  handle  of  cigars,  after  this  a  box  of  revolvers,  etc.,  and  was 
saitenced  to  various  terms  of  imprisonment. 

The  other  boy  was  also  of  Irish  extraction.  He  was  a  firm-made  little  fellow  of  dark 
complexion,  with  a  fine  dark  eye,  which  occasionally  shone  with  brilliancy.  He  is 
reputed  to  be  one  of  the  cleverest  young  pickpockets  in  London.  He  informed  us  he  was 
fifteen  years  of  age,  and  had  one  brother  and  two  sisters  in  Australia,  and  three  sisters 
living  at  home,  who  are  all  well  behaved.  He  stated  he  had  been  led  into  crime  by  bad 
boys,  and  had  now  been  thieving  for  four  years  and  a-half.  Be  lived  at  Keate  Street,  with  a 
number  of  other  lads  like  himself.  In  particular,  he  mentioned  one  of  the  name  of  Malony,  a . 
very  expert  thief,  who  could  pick  pockets  very  dexterously  on  the  fly,  i.  e.  when  the  parties 
were  walking  along  the  street. 

He  had  often  been  arrested  for  attempts  at  picking  pockets,  but  had  only  been  once  con- 
victed, and  was  sent  to  Wandsworth.  When  at  large  he  chiefly  worked  at  picking-pockets  in 
the  City,  but  did  not  consider  it  to  be  so  easy  as  in  Middlesex.  Before  he  came  to  prison, 
he  sometimes  went  to  Oxford  Street,  where  many  ladies  caU  with  carriages  at  the  shops. 

He  informed  us  he  had  sometimes  been  so  suc^essfol  as  to  take  nine  or  ten  purses  in  one 
day.  Many  fashionably  dressed  ladies  do  not  CQjrry  any  money  in  their  pocket,  while  plain 
country  people  have  often  a  IveU  filled  purse. 

During  his  recital,  the  little  felon  knit  his  brow  and  firmed  his  lipi  and  occasionally 


580 


THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


spoke  with  his  eyes  shut.    Sometimes  his  coantenance  shone  with  animation^  and  in  other 
moods  he  looked  like  a  simple  country  boy.    He  appeared  to  be  a  lad  of  superior  ability. 


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We  accompanied  tbe  goyemor  to  the  female  prison,  whicli  is  situated  opposite  to  the  juTenile 
wing,  and  were  introduced  to  the  matron,  and  entered  a  small  lobby  on  the  ground  floor 
beneath  the  archway  connected  with  the  main  prison*  On  our  right  hand  is  a  small  room 
neatly  furnished  for  the  use  of  the  laundry  warder,  with  a  bedroom  adjoining.  In  the 
lobby  are  two  bells,  one  communicating  with  the  door  on  the  exterior,  and  the  other  being 
a  night-bell  connected  with,  the  rooms  of  the  female  officers  of  the  prison. 

At  this  time  several  female  prisoners  came  downstairs  irom  the  corridor  above,  with 
the  shining  tins  for  dinner  to  be  conveyed  to  the  kitchen, 

%*  JRseeptum  Ward. — Leaving  the  lobby,  we  descend  four  stone  steps  into  the  reception 
ward  on  the  basement.  The  central  floor  is  laid  with  asphalt,  with  a  narrow  stripe  of  pave- 
ment on  each  side,  adjoining  the  cells. 

On  the  right  are  the  matron's  apartments,  consisting  of  a  kitdien  and  bedroom*  On  the 
left  is  a  bath«room  containing  two  batbs  and  a  sink,  also  a  dressing-room,  somewhat  rimilar 
to  those  in  the  adult  prison.    There  are  three  reception  cells  in  this  ward. 

At  the  extremity  of  the  reception  ward  are  two  dark  cells,  but  no  prisoners  were  confined 
in  them  at  the  time  of  our  visit.  They  are  similar  to  those  in  the  main  prison,  and  arc 
furnished  in  a  similar  manner. 

We  then  passed  into  the  store-room  containing  the  pritoners*  own  dothing,  together  witb 
an  asiortnumt  of  pruon  dreu.  The  prisoners'  own  clothing  was  laid  in  racks  along  the  vail 
in  tho  interior  of  the  apartment,  and  the  prison  garments  were  assorted  on  shdves. 

The  female  prison  dothiog  in  HoUoway  Prison  consists  of  three  wincey  petticoats  in 
winter,  and  two  in  summer ;  a  blue  gown,  a  checked  apron,  a  blue  checked  neckerehief*  a 
small  printed  pocket  handkerchief,  and  a  white  linen  cap.  Likewise  a  pair  of  blue  wonted 
stockings,  and  a  thick  substantial  shawl,  both  knitted  by  the  female  prisoners.  The  boddins 
is  tho  same  as  in  tho  other  corridors. 


HOUSE  OP  COEBECTION,  HOLLOWAT.  58i 

The  matron  infoimed  us,  '^  There  is  only  a  small  portion  of  the  bundles  of  clothes  fiimi- 
gated;  belonging  chiefly  to  the  lowest  dass,  such  as  yagrants  and  prostitutesi  many  of 
them  of  Irish  extraction." 

We  saw  a  considerable  number  of  bundles  of  more  elegant  appearance  on  the  shelyes. 
The  matron  stated  that,  at  present  thiere  is  a  larger  number  of  £B^onable  pickpockets  and 
shoplifters  in  the  female  prison  than  she  has  ever  previoucdy  known.  **  We  generally  have 
some  showy  pickpocketSi*'  she  added,  "  but  never  so  large  a  number.  Their  ages  vary 
from  twenty  to  thirty-flye  years  of  age — seldom  aboye  thirty-five. 

As  we  passed  along  the  ward,  from  the  window  of  the  matron's  room  we  saw  a  large 
company  of  the  female  prisoners  in  the  ezercisiDg  ground,  their  heads  being  covered  with  their 
hooded  shawls.    They  moved  along  with  active  step,  under  the  charge  of  a  female  ofKcer. 

Leaving  the  reception  ward*  we  went  to  the  corridor  above,  where  a  very  animated  scene 
presented  itself  to  our  view.  A  large  number  of  the  female  prisoners  were  exercising 
around  the  galleries  under  the  inspection  of  the  female  chief  warder,  who  was  stationed  on  a 
bridge  across  the  first  gallery,  while  a  female  warder  was  stationed  on  a  bridge  in  the  higher 
gallery.  After  exercising  for  some  time  they  returned  to  their  various  cells. 

The  female  warders  were  attired  in  a  brown  dress,  with  a  dark  head-dress. 

The  chief  warder  informed  us  the  first  gallery  contains  the  prisoners  tried  at  the  Central 
Criminal  Court,  convicted  of  the  most  heinous  ofiences,  and  in  the  second  gallery  are  dis- 
orderly prisoners  and  others  tried  at  the  Summary  Courts. 

On  the  first  day  of  our  visit  the  prisoners  were  occupied  in  the  following  employments : — 
Picking  oakum,  12 ;  at  needle-work,  14 ;  in  the  laundry^  8 ;  engaged  in  general  cleaning,  6 ; 
nursbg,  2;  sick  in  cells,  2;  in  infirmary,  4;  in  reception  ward,  3;  knitting  caps  and 
stockings,  15 ;  in  all  66  prisoners. 

%*  Laundry, — This  is  a  large,  well-aired,  conmiodious  apartment.  At  a  large  table  in 
the  centre  of  the  room,  several  female  prisoners  were  actively  engaged  in  folding  up  a 
quantity  of  female  underclothing,  3vhile  some  bundles  were  piled  on  the  table  beside  them. 
There  was  another  table  at  the  left  side  of  the  room,  on  which  a  portion  of  the  clothes  lay 
folded,  others  of  the  prisoners  were  busy  mangling.  There  is  a  large  copper  at  the  extremity 
of  the  laundry,  in  which  the  clothes  are  boiled.  It  is  supplied  with  steam  by  a  large  cistern 
above  it.    There  is  also  a  screen  in  which  the  linen  is  laid  out  to  dry. 

We  noticed  several  large  bundles  containing  male  prisoners*  clean  clothing  ready  for  use. 

Adjoining  the  laundry  is  a  drying-room,  furnished  with  six  clothes  horses,  which  can 
be  drawn  out  and  into  a  recess,  where  the 'wet  clothes  are  exposed  to  the  action  of  heated 
air.    Two  of  the  prisoners  were  ironing  white  linen. 

We  observed  here  a  pretty  young  woman — an  expert  and  fashionable  pickpocket.  She 
had  a  very  fine  face  and  figure,  and  her  bright  eyes  wer<)  firinged  with  long  black  eyelashes. 
We  learned  from  the  chief  warder  that  she  cohabits  with  a  low  fellow  in  the  City,  and  has 
been  frequently  in  confinement  charged  with  picking  pockets.  She  was  handsomely  dressed 
when  brought  to  the  prison. 

''  Tou  see  that  prisoner,*'  said  the  chief  warder,  referring  to  a  plain-looking,  middle-aged 
woman,  who  was  sitting  beside  the  mangle,  ''  she  is  also  an  expert  pickpocket,  and  an  old 
ofiender." 

The  prisoners  employed  in  the  laundry  are  albwed  a  pint  of  beer  every  day,  of  which 
they  were  partakbg  at  tiie  time  we  entered* 

In  the  proximity  of  the  laundry  are  eight  washing  boxes,  supplied  with  hot  and  cold 
water  by  means  of  taps,  where  some  of  the  female  prisoners  were  busy  washing. 

Meantime  several  male  prisoners  came  in  escorted  by  a  warder  (while  the  females  had 
for  a  short  tim«  retired),  and  c^iiried  off  several  large  bundles  of  white  linen  to  the  malo 
prison. 


£82  THE  GBEAT  WOBLD  OF  JJONDOS. 

The  female  prisoners  in  {he  latmdry  wash  the  clothing  for  all  the  Inrenohes  of  flie  prison. 

%*  The  School.^The  female  cldsses  are  convened  in  a  Isr^  comfixrtable  aporfcment  nt 
the  extremity  of  the  corridor  on  the  first  gallery.    On  the  walk  are  Biiq)ended  a  map  ef 
the  two  hemispheres,  and  another  oif  England,  along  witii  a  nnmber  of  pietoiial  illnstra- 
tions  of  Scriptnre  subjects.     A  black-board  is  set  on  a  stand.     The  teaeh^,  an  aetlTe 
intelligent  lady,  stood  in  front  of  the  class,  which  was  ranged  on  a  deal  form  in  fiont  of  her. 
There  were  £rom  twelve  to  fifteen  females  present  in  the  adnlt  class  at  the  time  we  visited 
them,  consisting  chiefly  of  fashionable  pickpockets  and  shop-lifters.     Their  ages  averaged 
from  seventeen  to  thirty-five.     Some  of  them  were  good-looking,  and  apparently  modest — 
one  or  two  had  a  superior  air  about  them.      One  prisoner  in  particular,  a   tall,  fidr 
complexioned,  handsome  woman  —  a  fkshionable  pickpocket  —  had   a  striking  and  com- 
manding appearance,  even  in  her  felon  garb.     She  was  brought  to  the  prison  in  a  rich. 
black  dress  with  three  flounces,  and  a  handsome  cloth  cloak,  an  elegant  bonnet  beantiflilly 
trimmed,  and  boots  with  military  heels.    Her  petticoats  were  also  of  the  beat  materials- 
''  She  was  dressed  and  garnished  with  jewellery,"  said  the  teacher,  *'  like  one  of  the  finest 
ladies  in  the  land,  and  from  her  appearance  and  manner  no  one  would  have  suspected  her 
real  character."    She  resided  at  Kensington  with  a  worthless  character,  and  hired  an  old 
woman  to  keep  her  child  at  the  rate  of  £1  a  week."  A  young  woman  of  about  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  with  a  fresh,  blooming  complexion,  also  a  pickpoeket,  sat  by  her  side;  while  her  eye 
drooped  on  her  book,  her  countenance  was  lit  up  by  a  beautiful  expression,  but  on  looking 
up,  as  she  did  occasionally,  she  appeared  less  interesting.    Another  young  woman,  a  pick- 
pocket, of  about  nineteen  years,  sat  beside  them,  with  a  very  ingenuous  appesranee.    On 
the  matron  interrogating  her  as  to  the  particular  nature  ol  her  offence,  she  burst  into  tears. 
A  good-looking  young  woman  of  about  twenty-four  years  of  age^  who  had  been  deteeted 
picking  pockets  sat  opposite  to  us.     She  had  formerly  been  a  barmaid  in  the  city  and  had 
been  led  astray  by  bad  company.    A  plain-looking,  dissipated  woman  sat  next  hei^  who 
had  led  a  very,  wild  and  romantic  career  in  the  Metropolis,  as  the  paramour  of  a  daring 
burglar.    She  still  cohabits  with  him,  and  now  picks  up  a  base  livelihood  by  roaming  the 
west  end  at  midnight,  and  plundering  drunken  men.    Another  woman,  respeotable-lookiDg, 
of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  who  had  been  guilty  of  forging  a  bank  oheque,  sat  at  the 
farther  end  of  the  class.     Some  of  them  were  readmg  attentively^  others  with  Hieir  dates  sn 
their  knee,  and  a  few  knitting  stockings. 

The  teacher  was  busy  when  we  entered  with  the  reception  warder,  explaaning  the  three 
Slingdoms  of  ISTature  to  the  class.    'We  did  not  remain  long  on  this  occasion. 

On  a  subsequent  day  we  visited  the  class  with  the  inatron,  which  was  then  engaged*  with 
the  Bible  lesson.  Most  of  the  prisoners  read  very  fluently  and  oorrectly,  and  conducted 
themselves  with  great  propriety  of  demeanour.  They  afterwards  clustered  around  the  map 
of  England,  alongside  of  their  amiuole  teacher,  and  appear^  to  take  great  interest  in  their 
geography  lesson. 

After  the  class  had  been  dismissed,  and  the  prisoners  had  retired  to  their  several  eeOs^ 
the  teacher  gave  us  the  following  information : — 

**  There  are  two  classes  here.  One  of  them  is  attended  by  those  learning  liie  elements 
of  reading  and  writing.  There  axe  about  twelve  pupils  attending  this  class,  tiieir  ages 
averaging  frx)m  fifteen  to  forty.  Some  of  them  learn  very  rapidly,  but  others  are  very  obCose. 
Thcro  are  several  with  me  at  present  who  have  learned  to  read  with  tdetable  ease  in  the 
course  of  six  months,  and  are  able  to  write  a  letter  to  their  friends.  The  younger  prisoners 
are  the  most  proficient  scholars.    This  class  is  held  finir  times  a-week. 

**  The  other  class  consists  of  adults,  who  are  taught  reading,  writing,  and  arithoietie^ 
geography,  and  general  infi>rmatian.  In  age  they  vary  ftom  twenty  to  fitfty^re.  These 
often  make  great  progress.    This  class  is  also  held  four  times  a  iredt- ' 


HOUSE  OF  COBEECTION,  50LL0WAT.  588 

**  Oil  Saturday  we  have  a  dass  for  the  women  attending  the  laundry.  The  school  is 
generally  appreciated  hy  the  pnsoners. 

''  Thfire  is  also  a  circulating  lihiary  belonging  to  the  prison.  The  books  are  distcibnted 
once  a- week  in  the  yarious  celk,  and  oftener  if  it  is  considered  proper. 

''  Some  well  educated  female  prisoners  read  out  of  the  library  who  do  not  attend  the 
classes.  There  are  seldom  so  many  of  this  superior  order  in  the  prison  that  I  could  muster 
a  class.  They  generally  avail  themselves  of  the  use  of  the  circulating  library,  and  write 
exercises  on  tiieir  slate  in  English  composition.*'. 

%*  The  Outer  Watchman. — One  morning  we  visited  the  prison  about  half-past  six 
o'clock.  It  was  then  dusk,  and  the  crescent  moon  was  nearly  obscured  by  a  cloudy  sky,  and 
scarcely  a  star  was  visible.  As  we  approached  Holloway  Prison  we  saw  the  long  windows 
at  the  extremities  of  the  adjacent  corridors  dimly  lighted,  while  the  tapering  dark  tower 
stood  out  in  dark  profile  against  the  dull  gray  sky.  The  great  Metropolis  stretched  around 
to  the  south,  wrapt  in  mist,  and  the  noise  of  its  busy  traffic  which  used  to  break  on  our 
ear  like  the  roar  of  the  restless  ocean,  had  not  yet  been  awakened  from,  the  gloom  of  night. 
We  only  heard  the  occasional  roll  of  a  vehicle  passing  in  the  distance,  the  shrill  call  of  a 
railway  whistle  summoning  the  lieges  to  an  early  train,  and  the  solemn  chime  of  the  clocks 
in  the  neighbouring  church  steeples  as  they  announced  in  the  quiet  sombre  air  the  flight  of 
winged  time. 

On  knocking  at  the  outer  gate  we  were  admitted  by  the  warder  within  the  walls  of  the 
prison.  Shortly  after  we  heard  the  bell  in  the  interior  of  the  prison  summoning  the  prisoners 
to  their  daily  labour. 

As  we  wandered  about  the  courtyard,  the  outer  watchman  hove  in  sight  with  lighted 
lantern  in  hand,  as  he  was  proceeding  on  duty  around  the  inner  walls.  We  accompanied 
him  in  one  of  his  rounds,  until  we  reached  the  back  of  the  prison,  when  he  flashed  his  buU's 
eye  on  our  note-book,  and  gave  us  the  following  inforination : — 

'*  I  commence  duty,"  he  said, ''  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening.  It  is  my  duty  to  inspect 
all  external  doors,  etc.,  and  to  see  that  articles  are  not  thrown  over  the  walls  by  persons 
from  without.  I  go  round  with  my  lighted  lantern  in  hand  to  see  that  all  is  right,  and  to 
ascertain  that  no  prisoner  has  a  light  in  his  cell,  and  that  there  is  no  communication  from 
without. 

^*  I  not  only  keep  watch  without,  but  enter  the  interior  of  the  prison,  and  have  a  master- 
key  which  opens  the  external  doors.  I  frequently  go  into  the  interior  and  communicate 
with  the  watchman  within,  and  inform  him  if  all  is  right.  Should  I  observe  a  light  in  any 
of  the  cells,  I  proceed  at  once  to  the  interior  to  And  out  the  cause.  It  may  be  that  the  chief 
warder  has  visited  som^  of  them.  He  is  called  up  by  the  inner  watchmen  when  any  of 
the  men  are  sick. 

''  I  light  the  kitchen  Are  between  one  and  two  o'clock,  and  get  the  steam  up,  and 
attend  to  it  aftenrards.  I  remain  till  the  gruel  is  cooked,  when  I  proceed  to  my  work 
outside.  I  leave  duty  about  a  quarter  past  seven  o'clock  in  the  monuhgi  when -the  warders 
aas^nble  to  enter  on  their  various  duties  for  the  day. 

%*  Emphynmt  of  Frisoners. — The  following  is  a  state  of  the  various  employments  in 
which  the  prisoners  were  engaged  on  one  of  the  days  we  visited  the  prison : — 

Employments.  Men.                        Bojs.                  Femivles.                    TotaL 

Mat-making           .  •  •  70  70 

Balling,  plaiting,  etc.  •  •  7  •        .        5        .12 

Treadwheel  ,        •  «  .  47  •        .        5 62 

Carryforward  124        .        .      10        134 


584 


THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 


Brought  up 
PioMng  oakum 
Cleamng 

Extra  ditto,  oakum,  etc. 
Window  cleaning  . 
Whitewashing 
Wood  chopping     . 
Cutting  junk,  and  packi 
Gardeners 
Smiths  and  Stokers 
Cooks   . 
Carpenters    . 
Coopers 
Brushmakcrs 
Basketmakers 
Bookbinders 
Painters  and  Glaziers 
Bricklayers 
Tailors 
Shoemakers 
Barbers 
Needlework 
Knitting 
Washing 
Excused  and  Sick 
Infirmaiy 
Nurses 

Dark  punishment  cells 
Light  cell     .     '   . 
Clerks,  etc.    . 
Picking  hair,  etc.  • 

Total 


o 


Km* 

124 
2 
4 

15 
2 
4 

•  •  • 
4 

20 
7 
5 
2 
1 
1 
1 
2 
2 
2 

19 

11 
2 


4 
6 
1 


2 
2 


Boys. 
10 

1 

1 

4 


••• 


••• 


Feniilefl. 

•  •  • 

9 
8 


16 
14 
8 
6 
3 
2 


268 


23 


66 


ToUL 

134 

35 

13 

19 

4 

4 

•  •  ■ 

4 

21 

7 

5 

2 

1 

2 

I 

2 

2 

2 

20 

11 

2 

IC 

14 

S 

12 

9 

3 

0 

0 

2 
o 

357 


LIST  OF  THE  DIETARY  FOE  PEISONERS  AT  HOLLOWAT  PEISOX 
Approved  by  the  Secretary  of  State^  ZUh  April,  1850. 

CLASS  I. 

Conyictcd  prisonen  confined  for  any  term  not  exceeding  seren  days : — 


Males. 

Breakfast    .        Outmeal  gruel  1  pint.  Breakfast    . 

Dinner        .        Bread  .  1  lb.  Dinner 

Supper       •        Oatmeal  gruel  .        Ipint.  Supper       • 

CLASS  II. 

Ck>nyictcc1  pviaoncrs  for  any  term  exceeding  seven  days,  and  not  exceeding  twenty  one  days : — 


FSXALBS. 

Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread 
Oatmeal  gruel 


Ipiat 
lib. 
1  pint. 


Breakias' 

Dinner 
Supper 


Males. 
Oatmeal  gnicl 
Bread  . 

Bread 

Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread 


1  pint. 
6  oz. 
12  oz. 
1  pint. 
6  oz. 


Breakfast 

»» 
Dinner 

Supper 


Feicalxs. 
Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread  . 
Bread  .        • 
Oatmeal  gmcl 
Bread  • 


1  pmt 
Cos. 
60s. 
1  pint. 

6  02. 


Prisoners  of  this  class,  employed  at  hard  labour,  to  bare  in  addition  1  pint  of  soup  per  week. 


HOUSE  OF  COERECnON,  HOILOWAY. 


585 


CLASS  III. 

Convicted  prisonew  employed  at  hard  labour,  for  terma  exceeding  twenty-one  days,  but  not  more  than 
SIX  weets ;  and  convicted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  kboixr,  for  terms  exceeding  twenty-one 
days,  out  not  more  than  four  montha : —  o  ^ 

Fbvalss. 
Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread 

Wednesday  and  Friday, 

•  Soup    . 
Bread  . 

Tkieeday  and  Sunday, 

•  Cooked  meat,  with- 
out bone    . 

Bread   . 

Potatoes        .        • 
Monday,  T^vraday,  and  Saturday. 
Dinner       •       Bread  .        .  6oz. 

n  Potatoes       .        .        1  lb. 

(or  1  pint  of  gruel  when  potatoes  cannot  be 
obtained.) 
Supper,  same  as  breakfast. 

CLASS  IV. 

Ginvicted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  hibour  for  terms  exceeding  six  weeks,  but  not  more  than  fouv 
months  j  and  convicted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  labour,  for  terms  exceeding  four  months : — 


Kaixs. 

Breakfast 

Oatmeal  gruel 

Ipint- 

i> 

Bread   • 
Wednesday  and  Friday, 

6oz. 

Dinner 

Soup     . 

1  pint. 

19 

Bread  . 
Tuesday  and  Sunday, 

1  oz. 

Dinner 

Cooked  meat,  with* 

out  bone  . 

8  oz. 

n 

Bread    . 

8oz. 

n 

Potatoes 

ilb. 

Monday y  Thttrtday,  and  Saivrday. 

Dinner 

•        Broad  .                . 

8oz. 

» 

Potatoes 

lib. 

(or  1  pint  of  gruel  when  potatoes  cannot  be 

obtained.) 

Sapper,  same  as  breakfast. 

Breakfast 
tf 

Dinner 
Dinner 

s> 

SI 


1  pint. 
6oz. 

1  pint. 
6  oz. 


8  oz. 
6  oz. 

ilb. 


Males. 

Breaklast    •        Oatmeal  gruel       .  1  pint. 

,,  Bread  .        .  8  oz. 

Sunday,  Tuesday,  TJiursday,  and  Saturday, 
Dinner       •        Cooked  meat  with* 

out  bone    .        •  8  oz. 

Potatoes        .        .  i  lb. 

Bread  •        .  8oz. 


99 


Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday, 
Dinner        •        Soup     •        •        •        1  pint. 
„  Bread    .        .        •        8  oz. 

Supper,  same  as  breakfast. 


FSIIALES. 

Breakfast    •        Oatmeal  gruel       .        1  pint. 
tf  Bread    .        .  6  oz. 

Sunday,  ISusday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday, 
Dinner        •        Cooked  meat,  with- 
out bone    .        .        8  oz. 
„  Potatoes       .        .        ^Ib. 

„  Bread  .        .        6  oz. 

Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday, 
Dinner        .        Soup     ...        1  pint. 
„  Bread  •        •        •        6  oz. 

Supper,  same  as  breakfast. 


CLASS  V. 

Convicted  prisor.ers  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  four  months : — 


Males. 
Sunday,  Tuesday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday, 


Breakfast 


99 

Dinner 


Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread   •        • 

Cooked  meat,  with- 
out bone    • 
Potatoes        . 
Bread    . 

Monday^  Wednesday,  and  Friday. 
Breakfast    .        Cocoa  ...        1  pint, 
made  of  \  oz.  of  flaked  cocoa,  or  cocoa  nibs, 
sweetened  with  f  oz  of  molasses  or  sugar. 


19 


1  pint. 
80s. 

4oz. 
lib. 
80Z. 


99 

Dinner 


S9 


>9 

Supper 
99 

43 


Bread  . 
Soup     .        • 
Potatoes 
Bread    . 
Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread    . 


80Z. 
1  pint, 
lib. 
80Z. 
1  pint. 
80Z. 


Dinner 


99 


»9 


1  pint. 
60Z. 

•        3  oz. 
ilb. 
60Z. 

Fevales. 
Sunday,  Tuesday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday, 
Breakfast    •        Oatmeal  gruel 

Bread  . 
•        Cooked  meat  with- 
out bone  . 
Potatoes 
Bread 

Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday. 
Breakfast   .        Cocoa  .        .        1  pint, 

made  of  }  oz.  of  flaked  cocoa,  or  cocoa  nibs, 
sweetened  with  }  oz.  of  molasses  or  sugar. 


91 

Dinner 

99 

)• 
Supper 

19 


Bread 

60Z. 

Soup    . 

1  pint. 

Potatoes 

ilb. 

Bread    . 

60Z. 

Oatmeal  gruel 

1  pint. 

Bread  .        •        • 

60Z. 

586 


THE  GEEIT  VOEU)  OF  LONDON. 


CLASS  VI. 

Prisoners  sentenced  by  oourt  to  solitary  oonfinement  t'^ 

Malbs.  I  Feicaiss. 

The  ordinaiy  diet  of  their  respectiTe  classes.  |       The  ordinaiy  diet  of  their  respcctire  classei. 

CLASS  vn. 

Prisoners  for  examination  before  trial,  and  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division,  who  do  not  maintain 
themseires : — 


MALIW* 

The  same  as  Class  IT. 


Malbs. 
The  same  as  Class  lY. 


CLASS  VIII. 
Destitute  debtors : — 


FXKALBfl. 

Tlie  same  as  Class  IV. 


Fbicalbs. 
The  same  as  Class  IV. 


CLASS  IX. 

Prisoners  under  punishment  for  Prison  o£fenoes  for  terms  not  exceeding  three  days  i^ 

1  lb.  Bread  per  diem. 

Prisoners  in  dose  confinement  for  prison  ofiimoes,  imder  the  prorision  of  the  42nd  Section  of  the 

Jail  Act : — 


Malbs. 

Fbualbs. 

Breakfast 

Gruel   . 

1  pint. 

Breakfast    . 

Gruel  . 

Ijnnt. 

91 

Bread  . 

8  oz. 

n 

Bread  . 

Sot. 

Dinner 

Bread   . 

8  oz. 

Dinner 

Bread  • 

60s. 

Supper 

Gruel    . 

1  pint. 

Supper 

Gruel   • 

Ipint. 

*% 

Bread  . 

8  oz. 

ff 

Bread  . 

60K. 

jfote — ^The  soup  to  contain,  per  pint,  3  oz.  of  cooked  meat,  -without  bone,  3  oz.  of  potatoes,  1  01.  of 
barley,  rice,  or  oatmeal,  and  1  oz.  of  onions  or  leeks,  vith  pepper  and  salt 

The  gruel  to  contain  1^  oz.  of  oatmeal  per  pint,  when  made  in  quantities  exceeding  fifty  pints ;  snd 
2  oz.  of  oatmeal  per  pint  when  made  in  less  quantities. 

The  gruel  on  alternate  days  to  be  sweetened  with  }  oz.  of  molasses  or  sugar  to  each  pint,  or  se«£oneJ 
with  salt. 

Boys  under  fourteen  years  of  age  to  be  placed  on  the  same  diet  as  females. 


BBTUBN  SttOWING  THB  AYSEAaB  BZPBVSBS  OB  BOLLOWAT  PBI80K  BOB  BBTSV  YBAB8,  A5D  BOB  TBS 

IiAST  TWO  TBAX8. 


Average  for  the 
laet  SeTen  Yean, 
and  Dftflj  ATenge 

for  Beren  Tears. 


Daily  average  number  of  prisoners 


Total  cost  of  ordinary  and  extra  diet,  dothing,  and  beddiig 

Ditto  per  head,  per  annum         ...         ...         ... 

Ditto  ditto     K>r  a  week 

Ditto  fuel,  gas,  cleaning  materials,  f mrniture,  books^stationery,  *) 
prisonen  on  disci mrge,  aiid  other  sundries  ...         j 

Ditto  per  head,  per  annum        ...         ...        .*.        ••• 

Ditto  oitto       for  a  week            ...        ...         •..         ••> 

Ditto  officers  salary  and  uniforms 

Ditto  ditto      per  head,  per  annum       ... 

Ditto         ditto       per  week  •••         

Ditto         for  new  buildings,  additions,  alterations,  etc 

Ditto         ditto      per  he^,  per  annum       

Ditto         ditto       per  week ' 

Total  expenditure  for  seren  years         

Ditto        ditto      of  prisoners  per  head  per  annum  for  scren  years. 
Expenditure  of  prisoner  per  head,  per  week     ... 


Arerage  for  thf 

last  Two  Yr«»> 

and  Dajly  Av«n{e 

forTwoTeji*. 


838 


£    s.    d. 
2625    6    3 

7  15    4 
0    2  11} 

1305    6    0 

8  17    2i 
0    1    5f 

3476  U    2 

10    5    Sk 

C    3  Hi 

319    8  11 

0  18  101 

0    0    4i 


£7750    1    8 
22  18    7 
0    8    9} 


832 


£    s  d. 

2433    1  S 

7    6  7J 

0    2  9) 

1082    8  2 

3    5  2 

0    13 

3676  19  7 

11    1  6 

0    4  3 

176  11  4 

0  10  61 

0    0  2i 

7390  13  U 

22    5  St 

0    6  6s 


HOUSE  OP  COREECTION,  HOLLOWAY. 


687 


BBTUBN  SHOWXHa  THB  TIHB  AM)  VAIUB  OF  ITALB  PBISOBIBS'  LAB0T7B. 


No.  of  daj8. 

Trtde. 

]Ut«. 

Volae. 

2792 

•«* 

••  • 

Tailors        ,„ 

««* 

*•• 

f. 

2 

0 

•  •«        •  •  • 

£       «.    d, 

279    4    0 

1532 

••• 

t  •  • 

Shoexnaken 

•  •  • 

•  •  • 

2 

0 

•  •  •         •  •  • 

153    4    0 

866 

•  <  • 

••• 

Carpenten 

•  •  • 

•  •* 

2 

0 

44 V                      • • • 

86  12    2 

2517 

••• 

••  • 

•  ■  • 

•  •• 

2 

0 

•  •  •                 ••  • 

251  14  10 

448 

■  •  »                                  4 

■  • 

Stokers 

««f 

»%* 

1 

0 

•  •  •                 ■  •  • 

22    8    0 

17 

•  •• 

>•• 

Tamers 

•I* 

«•• 

2 

0 

•  «  *                 ••• 

1  14    0 

66 

1    •  • 

1  •  • 

Painters 

•«t 

•  «l 

2 

0 

•  ■  •                    •  •  • 

5  12    0 

84 

•  •  •                                 1 

•  • 

Bricklayers 

t(» 

•  «t 

.— 

1.^ 

«••               ••• 

8    8    0 

1036 

■  •  ■ 

!•  t 

Washers     .„ 

•«• 

•  at 

1 

3 

•  «•                 •  •  • 

64    7    0 

30 

•  •  •                                  1 

•  • 

Bnuhmakers 

■  •  • 

•  t* 

2 

0 

■  •  •                     a  •  * 

3    0    0 

84 

•  •  •                                 1 

•  • 

Baeketmakers 

•■  • 

■  •• 

2 

0 

•• »                     • • • 

8    8    0 

179 

•  •  •                                  < 

•  • 

Bookbinders 

••• 

•  »• 

8 

0 

«  •  •                     •  •  ■ 

17  18    0 

68 

■  •  •                                  « 

•  • 

Tinmen 

!•• 

««• 

1 

3 

•  •  •                     «  •  • 

3  12    6 

70 

•  •  •                                  • 

•  • 

CJoopers      ... 

It' 

•If 

2 

0 

• • •                     ••• 

7    0    0 

252 

•  ••                                  • 

•  • 

Woodohoppers 

•  t« 

•  •• 

1 

0 

1»«                     ••• 

12  12    0 

1815 

•  •  «                                  • 

•  • 

Qar^euen  ,.. 

*tt 

•  •  • 

1 

3 

• • •                     ••• 

113    9    0 

1820 

•  •  •                                  « 

•  * 

Cooks 

Total 

•  •• 

•  •  • 

1    3 

• ••         ■•• 

•  •  •                     •  •  • 

• • •                      • •• 

113  16    0 

£1152  18    6 

The  average  daily 

consv 

imption  of  water  is  cme  tank  of  3S0O  gallons,  which  |a  the 

price  ( 

charged  fa 

>y  the  New  IWrer  Oompiny  7*.  6d. 

per 

tank  would  Mnount  to 

136  17    6 

£1289  16  0 
Note.— There  has  been  £69  reeoiyed  slne^     It  il  ft  lOtaifi  for  mango!d«wuiiel,  grown  on  the  ground, 
paid  since  into  the  Chamber. 

XBTXrBK  BHOWIVO  TBS  TALVE  OV  THB  WOBS  SBBVOBUSS  B?  f  SILLIB  PB18OKSB0. 

Articles  of  clothing  made  for  the  use  of  the  prisoners       ...  ...  ...  £37  17  5 

n  99  repaired  „  ...  ...  ...  ,„  73    2  4 

280  17  3 


Washing  112,345  garments,  or  5617  score,  at  1*.  per  score ... 

Total 


_    ••• 


Total  amount  of  male  prisoners'  labour 

female 


n 


M 


It* 


Total 


Total  expenses  of  prison 
n    receipts  of  moneys  for  prison  labour,  etc.    ... 

Cost  to  City 
Deduct  estimated  value  of  Prisoners*  labour 

Not  total  cost 


••• 


£391  17 

0 

£1289  16 
391  17 

0 
0 

£1681  13 

0 

£8092  19 
8086  16 

2 
9 

£5007    2 
1681  13 

6 

0 

•*• 


ta« 


£3325    &    6 


!  GKEAT  WORLD  OF  LOHDOK 


cniHBnuiv'a  aint— a  host  misebable  DmaBo^  bbdvilt  dt  kiooisd  wmnaia-mw, 

AKD  CUXID  ar  HtM  KBW  OATB. 

[fhim  on  oM  ci^Trarin^.] 
DETENTIONAL   PRISONS. 

h'EWOATE  JAIL. 

Mx.  Hepworth  Bixon,  in  his  excellent  work  on  tho  prisons  of  ILondon,  observes,  with 
regard  to  Kewgate,  "  that  it  is  maaaive,  dark,  and  solemn,  arrests  the  eye  and  holds  it." 
Ho  farther  adds,  "  a  stranger  in  the  capital  would  fix  on  it  at  a  glance,  for  it  is  one  of  tbe 
half  dozen  buildings,  in  this  wilderness  of  bricks  and  mortar,  which  haTu  a  character ;  of  all 
the  London  prisons,  except  the  Tower,  it  alone  has  an  imposing  aspect." 

In  its  strong  and  impreasire  architecture,  as  well  as  in  its  own  eventfiil  histoty,  it  riafs 
in  stem  grandeur  above  all  the  other  prisons  in  England.  Our  readers  will  pardon  ns  in 
these  circumstances,  taking  a  glance  into  the  chronicles  of  London,  not  only  to  leom  the 
past  reminiscences  connected  with  Newgate,  but  also  to  become  acquainted  with  the  prtMna 
of  London  in  bygone  times. 

Idaitland  states  that  the  original  Old  Rdley  Prison  got  the  name  of  Newgate,  as  it  was 
erected  in  the  reign  of  Henry  the  First,  several  hundred  years  after  the  four  original  gates 
of  the  city. 

It  ia  an  interesting  circnmstance  that  it  should  have  been  erected  by  the  famous  TUehsrd 
Whittington,  Lord  Mayor  of  London.  Stow  records  "  it  was  built  by  an  Act  of  Farliamcn: 
granted  by  Heniy  the  Sixth  to  John  Coventre.  Jenken  Carpenter,  and  William  Ororc, 
execntora  to  Sichaid  Whittington,  to  re-edify  the  jail  of  Newgate,  which  they  did  with  his 
goods." 


HEWGATE  JAIL.  589 

It  was  the  common  jail  for  the  county  of  Middlesex,  bnt  was  not  so  large  and  commo- 
dious as  the  present  building.  It  was  situated  on  the  north  side  of  Newgate  Street,  with 
its  fix)nt  looking  down  the  Old  Bailey  instead  of  being  in  a  line  with  it  as  now.  The  edifice 
was  of  an  ornamental  style,  similar  to  a  triumphal  entrance  to  a  capital,  crowned  with  battle- 
ments and  towers,  and  adorned  with  statues,  having  a  wide  arch  in  the  centre  for  carriages, 
similar  to  Temple  Bar,  with  a  postern  in  the  north  side  for  foot  passengers,  as  seen  in  the 
engraving.  • 

This  old  jail  was  gutted  by  the  great  fire  of  London  in  1666,  which  extended  irom 
Billingsgate  to  St.  Danstan's  Church,  near  Temple  Bar,  and  destroyed  above  12,000  houses, 
the  damage  being  estimated  at  ten  millions.  As  most  of  those  houses  were  built  of  wood, 
they  were  burned  down  to  the  ground ;  but  the  walls  of  Old  Newgate  being  of  solid  granite 
survived  that  catastrophe.     The  building  was  afterwards  repaired  in  the  year  1672. 

In  early  times  Newgate,  as  well  as  the  other  jails  in  England  and  the  Continent,  was  in 
a  deplorable  condition.  In  the  words  of  John  Howard,  *'  the  prisoners  were  kept  in  close 
rooms,  cells,  and  clammy  dungeons  14  or  15  hours  out  of  the  24.  The  floors  of  some  of 
those  caverns  were  very  damp — in  some  of  them  there  was  an  inch  or  two  of  water,  and 
straw,  or  miserable  bedding,  was  laid  on  the  floors.  There  were  seldom  any  bedsteads  in 
them,  and  the  air  was  oflensive  beyond  expression."  Howard  farther  observes,  "  my  readers 
will  judge  of  the  malignity  of  the  air  when  I  assure  them  that  my  clothes  were,  in  my  first 
journeys,  so  offensive,  that,  when  in  a  post-chaise,  I  could  not  bear  the  windows  drawn  up, 
and  was  therefore  obliged  to  travel  commonly  on  horseback.  The  leaves  of  my  memoran- 
dum book  were  so  tainted  that  I  could  not  use  it  tiU  after  spreading  it  an  hour  or  two  before 
the  fire.  I  did  not  wonder  that  in  these  journeys  my  jailers  made  excuses,  and  did  not  go 
with  me  into  the  felons*  wards." 

Jail  fever  was  then  very  prevalent,  in  consequence  of  cleanliness  and  ventilation  being 
generally  neglected.  Howard  observes:  "From  my  own  observations  in  1773,  1774,  and 
1775, 1  was  fully  convinced  that  more  prisoners  were  destroyed  by  it  than  were  put  to  death 
by  all  the  public  executions  in  the  kingdom."  He  farther  observes,  "A  cruel  custom 
obtains  in  most  of  the  jails,  which  is  that  of  the  prisoner  demanding  of  the  new  comer, 
garnish,  footing,  or,  as  it  is  called  in  some  London  gaols,  '  chummage/  '  Fay  or  strip,'  are 
the  fatal  words.  I  say  fatal,  for  they  are  so  to  some  who,  having  no  money,  are  obliged  to 
give  up  part  of  their  scanty  apparel.  If  they  have  no  bedding  or  straw  to  lie  on,  they  con- 
tract diseases  which  often  prove  mortal." 

At  this  time  criminals  were  treated  with  far  greater  severity  than  in  our  day ;  and  despe- 
rate crimes  were  much  more  frequent.  Many  of  the  prisoners  before  trial,  as  well  as  after 
sentence,  were  loaded  with  heavy  irons  by  night  and  day,  against  which  Howard  protested. 
Townsend  says:  "  In  the  early  part  of  my  time,  such  as  from  1781  to  1787,  where  one 
prisoner  is  convicted  now,  I  am  positively  convinced  there  were  five  then.  We  never  had 
an  execution  wherein  we  did  not  grace  that  unfortunate  gibbet  with  ten,  twelve,  or  more 
persons ;  and  on  one  occasion  I  saw  forty  at  once.  But  this  unfortunate  slaughter  did  no 
good  at  all.    The  more  hangings  there  were,  the  more  hardened  and  desperate  the  criminals 

became." 

Highway  robberies  were  then  rife  on  Hounslow  Heath,  Blackheath,  Finchley  Common, 
AVimbledon  Common,  and  on  the  Bomford  Bead.  Townsend  states :  "I  have  been  in  Bow 
Street  in  the  morning,  and  while  I  was  leaning  over  the  desk  heard  three  or  four  people 
come  in  and  say,  '  I  was  robbed  by  two  highwaymen  in  such  a  place:  I  was  plundered  by  a 
single  highwayman  in  such  a  place.'  By  means  of  the  horse  patrol  which  Sir  Richard  Ford 
planned,  people  now  travel  safely." 

The  rookeries  of  thieves  in  Saint  Giles,  "Westminster,  and  in  the  Old  Mint,  in  the 
Borough,  were  in  their  glory  about  the  beginning  of  the  18th  century,  when  Jack  Sheppard 
and  Jonathan  Wild  performed  their  notable  exploits.    Toward  the  end  of  that  century,  at 


690  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

the  time  Howard  lived,  robberies  had  been  considerably  checked,  yet  nameroos  executions 
took  place  at  Tyburn,  at  the  angle  of  Oxford  Street  and  the  Edgeware  Boad«  near  to  where 
the  Marble  Arch,  Hyde  Park,  now  stands. 

The  low  scum  of  the  citizens,  in  those  days,  were  regaled  with  those  gloomy  exhibitions ; 
and  at  the  peal  of  the  bell  of  St.  Sepulchre's  Church,  assembled  around  Newgate,  from  the 
slums  and  disreputable  localities  of  the  city,  and  accompanied  the  cart  conveying  the  crimi- 
nals to  Tyburn  on  its  dismal  procession  along  the  Tybum  Road,  now  transformed  into 
Oxford  Street.  On  certain  occasions  when  a  noted  highwa3rman,  or  burglar,  'or  other 
criminal,  was  to  be  executed,  crowds  of  most  respectable  citizens  might  be  seen  wending  their 
way  from  all  parts  of  the  city  toward  the  fatal  tree. 

The  last  execution  at  Tybum  took  place  on  the  7th  of  November,  1783.  In  the  same 
month  the  first  criminal  was  hanged  in  front  of  Newgate,  which  henceforth  became  the  place 
of  execution.  This  change  appears  to  have  been  made  at  the  suggestion  of  Howard,  from 
philanthropic  motives,  to  do  away  with  the  unseemly  processions  to  Tybum. 

In  connection  with  this  melancholy  subject  we  extract  a  piece  of  curious  information 
from  the  chronicler  Stow,  which  we  give  in  his  own  words :  **  Only  let  it  be  added  that 
Mr.  Bobert  Dow,  merchant-tailor,  that  deceased  1612,  appointed  the  sexton,  or  bellman,  of 
St.  Sepulchre's  to  pronounce  solemnly  two  exhortations  to  the  persons  oondenmed,  for  which, 
and  for  ringing  the  passing  bell  for  them  as  they  were  carried  to  the  cart  by  the  said  churdi, 
be  left  to  him  269.  Sd.  yearly,  for  ever. 

**  The  exhortation  to  be  pronounced  to  the  condemned  prisoners  in  Newgate  the  night 
before  their  execution — 

"  Ton  prisoners  that  are  within, 
Who,  for  wickedness  and  sin, 

"  after  many  mercies  shown,  you  are  now  appointed  to  die  to-morrow,  in  the  forenoon; 
give  ear  and  understand  that  to-morrow  morning  the  great  bell  of  St.  Sepulchre's  shall  toll 
for  you,  in  form  and  manner  of  the  passing  bell  as  used  to  be  tolled  for  those  that  are  at  the 
point  of  death.  To  the  end  that  all  goodly  people  hearing  that  bell,  and  knowing  it  is  for 
you  going  to  your  deaths,  may  be  stirred  up  heartily  to  pray  to  God  to  bestow  his  grace  and 
mercy  upon  you  whilst  you  live.  I  beseech  you,  for  Jesus  Christ  his  sake,  to  keep  this 
night  in  watching  and  prayer  for  the  salvation  of  your  own  souls,  while  there  is  yet  time 
and  place  for  mercy,  as  knowing  to-morrow  you  must  appear  before  the  judgmentpseat  of 
your  Creator,  there  to  give  an  account  of  all  things  done  in  this  life,  and  to  suffer  etenud 
torments  for  your  sins  committed  against  TTirn^  unless  upon  your  hearty  repentance  you  find 
mercy  through  the  merits,  death,  and  passion  of  your  only  mediator  and  advocate,  Jeans 
Christ,  who  now  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  Gt)d  to  make  intercession  for  as  many  of  you  as 
penitentially  return  to  him." 

The  admonition  to  be  pronounced  to  the  convicted  criminals  as  they  are  passing  by  Saint 
Sepulchre's  Church  to  execution — 

"  AU  good  people,  pray  heartily  to  God  for  these  poor  smners  who  are  now  going  to  thdr 
death,  for  whom  this  great  bell  doth  toll." 

"  You  that  are  condemned  to  die,  repent  with  lamentable  tears-  Ask  mercy  of  the  Lord 
for  tlio  salvation  of  your  own  souls,  through  the  merits,  death,  and  passion,  of  Jesus  Christ, 
who  now  sits  at  the  right  hand  of  God  to  make  intercession  for  as  many  of  you  as  peniten- 
tially return  unto  him. 

"  Lord  have  mercy  upon  you ! 
Christ  have  mercy  upon  youl 
Lord  have  mercy  upon  you ! 
Christ  have  mercy  upon  you ! " 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  591 

Writing  in  1777,  Howard  states,  that  ''the  total  number  of  ezecntions  for  the  previous 
twenty-three  years  had  been  678, and  the  annual  average  was  29  or  30."  He  remarks:  ''I  could 
wish  that  no  persons  suffered  capitally  but  for  murder,  for  setting  houses  on  fire,  and  for 
house-breaking,  attended  with  acts  of  cruelty.  The  highwayman,  the  footpad,  the  habitual 
thief,  and  people  of  this  class,  should  end  their  days  in  a  penitentiary«house  rather  than  on 
a  gallows.  That  many  cartloads  of  our  fellow-creatures  are,  once  in  six  weeks,  carried  to 
slaughter  is  a  dreadful  consideration.  And  this  is  greatly  heightened  by  reflection,  that 
with  proper  care  and  proper  r^;ulation,  much  the  greater  part  of  these  wretches  might  have 
been  made  into  useful  members  of  society,  which  they  now  so  greatly  dishonour  in  the  sight 
of  all  Christendom.'' 

We  have  reason  to  believe  that  the  original  Kewgate  Jail,  in  the  general  arrangements 
of  its  cells  and  wards  was  similar  to  the  building  erected  in  its  place,  but  less  commodious. 
It  was  seldom  visited  by  the  sheriffs  and  magistrates,  who  did  not  like  to  venture  within  the 
wards,  ''least  they  should  soon  be  in  their  graves,''  and  no  government  inspector  was 
appointed  till  the  year  1777.  Howard  informs  us :  ''In  many  jails,  and  in  most  bridewells 
(Newgate  included)  there  is  no  allowance  of  bedding  or  straw  to  lie  in,  and  if  by  any  meouc 
they  (the  prisoners)  get  a  little,  it  is  not  changed  for  months  together,  and  is  almost  worn  to 
dust.  Some  lie  on  rags  and  others  on  the  bare  floor.  The  keepers  told  him  '^  the  County 
allows  no  straw,  and  the  prisoners  have  none  but  at  their  cost." 

Stimulated  by  the  noble  philanthropy  of  Howard,  a  large  new  prison  was  erected  by  the 
magistrates  of  the  City,  from  designs  furmshed  by  George  Dance,  the  City  architect.  It  was 
set  on  fire  during  the  Protestant  Blots  of  1780,  by  an  infuriated  mob,  led  by  the  fanatic 
Lord  George  Gordon,  but  afterwards  repaired.  The  interiors  of  the  side  wings  have  also  been 
recently  changed,  yet  the  outer  walls  still  stand  as  massive  as  ever,  and  will  possibly  do  so 
for  many  centuries  to  come. 

In  1783,  John  Howard,  when  referring  to  the  old  Prison  of  Newgate,  writes  thus: — 
"  The  builders  seemed  to  have  regarded  nothing  in  their  plan  but  the  single  article  of  keeping 
prisoners  in  safe  custody.  The  rooms  and  cells  were  so  close  as  almost  always  to  be  the 
constant  seats  of  disease  and  sources  of  infection.  The  City  had,  therefore,  very  good 
resolution  to  build  a  new  jail  (which  he  did  not  consider  as  a  model  to  be  followed).  I  am 
of  opinion  that  without  more  than  ordinary  care  the  prisoners  in  it  will  be  in  great  danger 
of  the  jaU  fever." 

In  a  later  volume  of  his  works,  when  writing  an  account  of  the  present  venerable 
Prison  of  Newgate,  then  nearly  erected,  he  observes  that  "  there  was  no  aUeration  sinee  his 
fi)rmer  publication.  In  three  or  four  rooms  there  w^e  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  women 
crowded  together,  many  young  creatures  with  the  old  and  hardened,  some  of  whom  had  been 
confined  upwards  of  two  years.  On  the  men's  side  there  were  many  boys  of  twelve  or 
fourteen  years  of  age,  some  almost  naked.  In  the  men's  infiinnary  there  were  only  seven 
iron  bedsteads ;  and  at  my  last  visit,  there  being  twenty  sick,  some  of  them  naked  and 
with  sores  in  a  miserable  condition  lay  on  the  floor  with  only  a  rug.  There  were  four 
sick  in  the  infirmary  for  women,  which  is  only  fifteen  feet  and  a  half  by  twelve,  has  but  one 
window  and  no  bedsteads,  the  sewers  being  offensive,  and  the  prison  not  whitewashed. 
Unless  room  be  given  for  the  separation  of  the  prisoners,  and  a  reform  be  made  in  the 
prisons,  an  audacious  spirit  of  profaneness  and  wickedness  will  continue  to  prevail  in  the 
lower  class  of  the  people  of  London." 

In  1787  there  were  in  Newgate  140  debtors  and  350  criminals — 490.  In  1788  there 
were  114  debtors  and  499  criminals — 613.  From  which  time  to  1810,  a  space  of  twenty- 
three  years,  Newgate  continued  in  a  wretched  misguided  condition.  The  number  of  pri- 
soners was  increasing,  and  there  was  no  proper  classification  of  them. 

In  1808,  Sir  Bichard  Philips,  one  of  the  sheriffs  of  the  City,  in  his  letter  to  the  Livery 
of  London,  after  complaining  of  want  of  room,  air,  food,  etc.,  adds : — "  that  he  has  been 


692  THE  GEEAT  WOBXD  OP  LONDON. 

Bbocked  to  see  boys  of  thirteen,  fourteen,  and  fifteen  confined  for  months  in  the  same  3rard 
with  hardened,  incorrigible  offenders.  Among  the  women,  all  the  ordinarj  feelings  of  the 
sex  are  outraged  by  their  indiscriminate  association.  The  shameless  Tictims  of  lust  and 
profligacy  are  placed  in  the  same  chamber  with  others  who,  however  they  may  have  offended 
the  laws  in  particular  points,  still  preserve  their  respect  for  decency  and  decorum.  In 
immediate  contact  with  such  abandoned  women,  other  young  persons  are  compelled  to  pass 
their  time  between  their  commitment  and  the  Sessions,  when  of  course  it  often  happens  that 
the  bill  is  not  found  against  them  by  the  Grand  Jury,  or  they  are  acquitted  by  the  Petty 
Jury.  When  the  female  prisoners  lie  down  on  their  floors  at  night,  there  must  necessarily, 
at  least  in  the  women's  wards,  be  the  same  bodily  contact  and  the  same  arrangement  of  heads 
and  legs  as  in  the  deck  of  a  slave-ship.  The  wards  being  only  forty-three  feet  wide,  admit 
by  night  of  two  rows  to  lie  down  at  once  in  a  length  of  thirty-seven  feet ;  that  is  to  say, 
twenty-five  or  thirty  women,  as  it  may  be,  in  a  row,  having  each  a  breadth  of  eighteen  inches 
by  her  length." 

This  stifiing  confinement  of  the  women  in  1808,  when  Newgate  was  crowded  with 
female  prisoners,  still  continued  in  1817.  In  1818,  the  Honourable  Mr.  Bennet,  ILP., 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  Common  Council  and  Livery  of  the  City  of  London,  in  reference  to  the 
abuses  existing  in  Newgate,  and  urging  the  necessity  of  an  immediate  reform  in  the  manage- 
ment of  that  prison. 

The  Prison  of  Newgate  was  calculated  to  hold  only  427  prisoners ;  but  on  one  occasion 
about  this  time  822  prisoners,  debtors  and  criminals,  were  huddled  together,  and  sometimes 
even  as  many  as  1200 ;  which  overcrowding  created  infectious  jail  fever.  The  prisoners 
were  not  provided  with  bedding,  and  the  food  allowed  them  was  hardly  sufficient  to 
sustain  life. 

lllr.  Bennet  writes: — "The  keeper  of  Newgate  never  attended  Divine  service,  and  the 
ordinary  did  not  consider  the  morals  of  even  the  children  who  were  in  the  prison  as  being 
under  his  care  and  attention.  No  core  teas  taken  to  inform  him  of  the  sick  tiU  he  got  a  warning 
to  perform  a  funeral.  There  was  no  separation  of  the  young  from  the  old,  the  children  of 
either  sex  from  the  most  hardened  criminal.  Boys  of  the  tendercst  years,  and  girls  of  the 
ages  of  ten,  twelve,  and  thirteen  were  exposed  to  the  vicious  contagion  that  predominated  in 
all  ports  of  the  prison ;  and  drunkenness  prevailed  to  such  an  extent,  and  was  so  common, 
that  unaccompanied  with  riot  it  attracted  no  notice." 

In  1815  some  good  arrangements  were  made  as  to  a  better  allowance  of  food,  doihing, 
and  coals,  and  several  other  matters,  but  the  classification  of  persons  was  still  neglected. 
They  still  continued  to  herd  together  in  the  associated  rooms  and  yaids,  and'  through  the 
facility  of  intercourse  which  subsisted  between  the  prisoners  and  their  Mends  and  acquaint- 
ances who  visited  them,  extensive  burglaries  and  robberies  were  plotted  in  Newgate,  and 
notes  were  forged  and  coining  was  carried  on  within  its  gloomy  walls.  By  bribing  the 
turnkeys  intoxicating  liquors  were  often  introduced  into  the  prison,  and  profligate  women  were 
permitted  to  visit  the  prisoners,  under  the  pretext  they  were  their  wives,  and  by  paying  the 
small  fee  of  one  shilling  were  allowed  to  remain  during  the  night  in  wards  containing  several 
beds,  not  separated  from  each  other  by  a  single  curtain.  There  were  then  fifteen  condemned 
cells,  which  inconveniently  contained  forty-five  persons,  three  in  each  cell.  In  his  evidence 
before  the  Police  Committee,  Mr.  Bennet  states: — "On  the  19th  of  February,  1817,  thcru 
were  eighty-eight  persons  condemned  to  death  in  Newgate,  of  which  five  had  been  sentenced 
in  the  July  preceding,  four  in  September,  and  twenty-nine  in  October.  The  evil  of  this 
assemblage  of  persons  is  the  entire  absence  of  all  moral  or  religious  feeling.  The  greato* 
part  of  the  criminals  know  that  on  them  the  sentence  of  the  law  will  not  be  executed ;  while 
those  whose  fate  is  certain,  or  who  doubt  what  the  event  may  be,  are  compelled  to  assodate 
and  live  with  the  rest ;  lessening  the  ennui  and  despair  of  the  situation  by  unbecoming 
merriment,  or  seeking  relief  in  the  constant  application  of  intoxicating  stimulants.     I  saw 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  693 

Cashman  a  few  hours  before  his  executioii  smoking  and  drinking,  with  the  utmost  unconcern 
and  indifference.  IS'or  indeed  is  this  all.  Supposing  the  prisoners  of  two  Sessions  are  under 
sentence,  one  reported  and  the  other  not ;  there  is  no  sepai'ation  between  those  who  are  to  be 
executed  and  those  who  are  unreported;  the  latter  are  gay,  and  even  joyous,  while  the 
former  pass  the  few  hours  to  remain  to  them  in  a  feverish  dream. 

"  The  new  keeper,  Mr.  Brown,  has  commenced  a  system  of  reform  in  all  the  departments 
of  the  prison,  which,  if  persevered  in,  will  produce  the  most  salutary  results.  He  is  endea- 
vouring to  check  the  abuses  which  have  prevaiLed  in  the  management  of  the  prison ;  amongst 
these  abuses  the  sale  of  offices  have  been  the  most  serious ,  and  I  have  been  informed  that 
the  place  of  wardsman  to  the  different  wards  has  been  often  purchased  of  the  turnkeys. 
I  knew  an  individual  who  told  me  that  he  offered  fifty  guineas  for  one  of  these  situations, 
and  was  refused ;  no  doubt  because  a  better  price  was  got.  The  introduction  of  spirits  still 
continues,  and  till  the  admission  of  strangers  is  better  regulated,  will  never  be  wholly 
prevented." 

With  reference  to  the  female  prisoners,  the  Honourable  Mr.  Bennet  observes  in  his  letter 
to  the  Common  Council  and  Livery  of  the  City  of  London : — *'  The  humane  and  excellent 
management  of  Mrs.  Fry  and  the  Society  of  Friends,  has  placed  this  part  of  the  prison  in 
a  state  of  comparative  excellence.  No  praise  of  mine  can  add  weight  to  the  tribute  of  general 
applause  which  Mrs.  Fry  and  her  Committee  of  Friends  have  received  from  all  who  have 
witnessed  their  efforts." 

Mr.  Bennet  concludes  his  judicious  and  admirable  letter  in  these  words : — '^  I  cannot 
refrain  from  expressing  my  astonishment  at  a  Beport  which  the  Grand  Jury  of  Middlesex, 
who,  in  the  discharge  of  their  duty,  inspected  l^ewgate  last  session,  have  thought  to  make  of 
the  state  of  that  prison.  They  could  not  have  noticed  the  want  of  proper  classification,  nor 
the  state  of  the  condemned  cells,  nor  the  manner  in  which  the  prisoners  sleep,  nor  the 
promiscQous  assemblage  of  aU  kinds  of  misdemeanants  in  the  five  yurds,  nor  the  want  of 
separation  of  old  and  young  offenders  in  all  parts  of  the  prison ;  for  if  they  had  noticed  these 
deficiencies,  I  am  sure  twenty-four  Englishmen  could  not  have  passed  a  vote  of  high 
admiration.  The  slight  want  of  matting  and  covering  is,  in  fact,  a  want  of  proper  rugs  and 
bedding ;  and  the  nudity  or  the  deficiency  of  shirts,  shoes,  and  stockings,  cannot  but  bo 
taken  as  trifling  exceptions  to  those  excellent  arrangements  which  are  l^e  theme  of  this 
extraordinary  panegyric  » 

Since  the  year  1817,  when  these  words  were  penned  by  Mr.  Bennet,  the  arrangements  of 
Newgate  have  at  various  intervals  been  greatly  reformed.  Li  1858,  the  associated  rooms 
and  offices  of  the  wings  adjoining  Newgate  Street  were  removed,  and  a  corridor  erected 
with  interior  arrangements  similar  to  those  of  the  Model  Prison  at  Peutonvillc,  and  in  1860 
the  old  buildings  of  the  female  wing  were  taken  down  and  a  corridor  built  in  their  place 
after  the  same  style.  Yet  the  massive  exterior  remains  the  same  as  in  the  time  of  John 
Howard. 


1. — o. 
LfUmor  of  Newgate  Jail. 


\*  The  Zod^e. — ^We  enter  the  Lodge  of  Newgate  Jail  by  a  door,  elevated  a  few  steps 
above  the  level  of  the  street,  in  a  line  with  the  Old  Bailey,  fianked  by  dark  huge  masses  of 
stone,  forming  part  of  the  wall,  which  is  about  four  feet  thick.  This  outer  door  is  only 
about  lour  feet  and  a  half  high,  and  is  covered  on  the  top  with  formidable  iron  spikes — the 


694  THE  GKEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

open  space  above  being  farther  fenced  vitb  two  strong  iron  bars  with  transyerse  iron  rods. 
There  is  another  massive  oaken  inner  door  abngside,  faced  with  iron,  of  enonnona  strength, 
which  is  only  shnt  at  night.  It  reminds  ns  of  the  terrible  prisons  in  the  old  barbaiio  times, 
when  criminals  were  more  desperate  than  in  our  day,  before  Howard  commenced  his  angelic 
mission  over  the  dungeons  of  England  and  the  Continent.  This  door  has  a  very  stnmg 
Bramah  look  with  a  big  brazen  bolt,  which  gives  a  peculiarly  loud  rumbling  sound  when  the 
key  is  turned ;  and  at  night  it  is  secured  with  strong  iron  bolts  and  padlocks,  and  by  an  inm 
chain.     The  great  bolts  penetrate  a  considerable  way  into  the  massive  stone  walL 

The  lodge  is  a  small  sombre-looking  high-roofed  apartment,  with  a  semicircular  iron* 
grated  window  over  the  doorway,  and  a  grated  window  on  each  side,  and  is  floored  with 
wood.  On  our  lefb  hand  is  a  small  room,  occupied  by  a  female  warder  who  seaiches  the 
female  visitors  to  the  prison,  lighted  by  an  iron-grated  window ;  and  on  our  right  is  an  ante- 
room leading  to  the  governor's  office.  Another  heavy  oaken  door,  heed  with  iron,  leads 
into  the  interior  of  the  prison ;  and  alongside,  is  an  iron-grated  window  communicating  with 
tho  interior. 

The  warder  in  attendance,  a  genial-looking  officer  with  robust  £rame,  introduced  ns  to 
the  governor,  when  we  produced  our  order  from  the  visiting  justices  of  the  prison.  He 
kindly  allowed  the  deputy-governor  to  attend  us  over  the  various  wards.  Before  leaving  the 
lodge  we  inspected  the  prison  books,  which  were  similar  to  those  we  found  in  several  of  the 
prisons  already  described. 

On  the  walls  are  suspended  different  notices  by  the  Court  of  Aldmnen  in  aooordanoe  with 
Act  of  Parliament.  One  of  them  forbids  liquors  to  be  introduced  into  the  prison,  another 
refers  to  visiting  the  prisoners,  and  a  third,  to  the  attorneys  and  clerks  who  should  visit 
them  respecting  their  defences. 

The  deputy-governor  opened  the  ponderous  iron-bolted  door  leading  into  a  gloomy  pas- 
sage  with  arched  roof,  conducting  along  the  back  of  the  porter's  lodge  towards  the  maie  cor* 
ridor  and  kitcheD.  On  our  right  hand  is  a  strong  door  of  the  same  description,  leading  to 
the  female  prison,  secured  by  ponderous  lock  and  bolts. 

We  meantime  turned  to  the  left,  and  came  to  another  strong  oak^i  door  faced  with  ixnn. 
In  this  sombre  passage  the  gas  is  kept  burning,  er&i  at  mid-day.  As  we  passed  olong  we 
saw  the  sunbeams  falling  on  a  stone  flooring  through  an  iron  grating,  opening  into  the  inte- 
rior of  the  old  prison  yard. 

On  passing  through  this  heavy  door,  which  is  kept  locked,  the  passage  widens.  Here 
we  saw  a  long  wooden  seat  for  the  accommodation  of  the  prisoners  who  axe  to  appear  before 
the  governor  to  have  their  descriptions  taken.  This  passage  leads,  on  the  right-hand  side, 
into  a  room  called  the  bread-room,  where  we  observed  a  warder  in  the  blue  prison  uni&nn, 
who  is  detained  here  on  duty. 

•#*  The  Bread-room, — We  went  with  the  chief  warder  into  the  bread-room,  whieh  is 
also  used  to  take  descriptions  of  the  prisoners,  being  well-lighted  and  very  suitable  for  this 
purpose.  It  has  a  wooden  flooring,  and  is  whitewashed.  In  this  apartment  is  an  old  leaden 
watcr-cistem,  very  massive,  and  painted  of  a  stone  colour,  curiously  carved,  with  the  city 
coat  of  arms  inscribed  on  it,  and  dated  1781.  There  is  here  also  a  cupboard  containing  a 
carious  assortment  of  irons  used  in  the  olden  time,  as  well  as  a  number  of  those  used  in  the 
present  day,  of  less  formidable  appearance.  There  are  here  deposited  the  leg-irons  worn  by 
the  celebrated  burglar  and  prison-breaker.  Jack  Sheppard,  consisting  of  an  iron  bar  about  aa 
inch  and  a  half  thick,  and  fifteen  inches  long.  At  each  end  are  connected  heavy  irons  for 
the  legs,  about  an  inch  in  diameter,  which  were  clasped  with  strong  iron  rivets.  In  the 
middle  of  the  cross-bar  is  an  iron  chain,  consisting  of  three  lai^  links  to  &sten  round  the 
body.    We  found  these  irons  to  weigh  about  twenty  pounds. 

There  is  also  in  this  cupboard  a  ''fac  siooile"  of  the  heav^  le^-irons  of  tiie  celebrated 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  695 

Dick  Turpin,  the  mounted  higbwaymaii.  These  consist  of  two  iron  hoops  about  an  inch 
thick,  to  clasp  the  ankle,  and  about  five  inches  in  diameter.  A  ring  goes  through  and  con- 
nects with  the  iron  clasp  which  secures  the  ankle  with  a  long  link  on  each  side,  about  ten 
inches  in  length  and  above  an  inch  in  thickness.  These  long  links  are  consieeted  with 
another  circular  link  by  a  chain  parsing  through  to  fasten  round  the  body.  They  are  about 
thirty-seven  pounds  in  weight. 

We  also  observed  some  of  ths  old  irons  which  were  fonnerly  put  on  the  prisoners  capi« 
tally  convicted,  and  kept  upon  them,  during  day  and  night,  till  the  morning  of  execution^ 
There  is  also  an  axe  which  was  made  to  behead  Thistlewood  and  the  other  Cato  Street  con< 
Bpirators,  guilty  of  high  treason,  which  was  not,  however,  used.  This  axe  is  large  and 
heavy,  about  nine  inches  wide  at  its  broad  edge,  and  an  inch  and  a  half  thick  at  the  back, 
and  must  have  required  to  be  wields  by  a  strong-arm^d  executioner.  It  weighs  about 
eleven  pounds.  There  is  alio  a  leathern  belt  about  two  and  a  half  inches  wide  for  pinioning 
the  persons  to  be  executed.  It  goes  round  the  body  and  fastene  behind  with  straps  to 
secure  the  wrist,  and  clasp  the  arms  close  to  the  body.  There  is  likewise  another^  used  by 
the  executioner  on  the  drop  in  securing  the  legs.  A  namber  of  these  straps  had  been  used 
in  pinioning  notorious  murderers  executed  at  Newgate,  whose  tragic  histories  are  recorded 
in  the  **  Newgate  Calendar ;"  and  many  of  these  leg-irons  had  fettered  the  limbs  of  daring 
highwaymen  in  the  olden  time^  who  used  to  frequent  Blackheath  and  Hounslow  Heath. 
The  massive  and  gloomy  architecture  of  Newgate  and  its  strong  iron  keeps,  and  these  terrible 
relics,  give  us  a  glimpse  into  the  stem  prison  discipline  of  London  of  a  bygone  day. 

There  are  manacles  of  a  more  recent  date,  for  the  wrist  and  leg,  used  in  the  removal  of 
convicts  to  the  various  prisons. 

In  another  cupboard  in  this  room  is  contained  the  bread  provided  for  the  prisoners. 
There  is  also  a  machine  for  weighing  it  out.  An  ojQicer  generally  sleeps  here  at  night  to 
ring  the  alarm  bell  in  case  any  of  the  prisoners  should  be  sick,  or  should  attempt  to  escape 
from  the  prison. 

There  is  here  a  door  leading  to  vaults  under  the  prison,  where  yoa  descend  by  a  flight  of 
stone  steps. 

Before  leaving  this  room  the  deputy-governor  informed  us :-— "  The  leg  irons  referred  to 
were  attached  to  an  iron  belt,  which  went  round  the  body,  and  were  generally  so  short  the 
prisoners  could  not  walk  with  freedom  while  encumbered  with  them."  Then  he  showed  us 
one  of  these  iron  belts,  which  had  three  joints,  one  end  of  it  lapped  over  upon  the  other,  and 
a  fta^  was  inserted  throu^  one  of  the  openings,  of  which  there  were  five  in  number  about 
an  inch  distant,  similar  to  a  leather  strap ;  so  that  by  this  means  the  belt  could  be  securely 
put  (HI  prisoners  oi  different  size.  Through  the  staple  which  fastened  the  belt  a  padlock  was 
generally  inserted  and  was  kept  locked*  There  was  a  ring  on  each  side  of  the  belt;  to  which 
the  handcuffs  could  be  easily  attached  tn  eftse  of  neeessity. 

%*  Mttrderers*  ^m«^.— We  meantime  returned  to  an  anteiocm  leading  into  ike  governor's 
office,  on  the  left  hand  side  of  &e  lodge,  lighted  by  an  iron  grated  window  looking  into  the 
Old  Bailey.  There  is  a  eupboard  here  ooatainiag  arms  for  the  oftcers  in  the  event  of  any 
outbreak  in  the  prison;  oonaisting  of  pistols,  guns,  bayonets,  and  cutlasses.  On  the  wsU 
hung  two  very  old  paintings  of  Botany  Bay,  when  convicts  were  first  sent  to  that  penal 
colony,  and  also  a  painting  of  Davies  who  was  executed  many  years  ago  for  the  murder  of 
his  Mdfe  at  Islington.  It  is  roughly  executed,  and  was  done  by  himself  before  he  was 
apprehended.  His  brow  is  lofty  and  full.  His  underface  is  rather  sensual,  but  is  by  no 
means  characteristic  of  a  murderer.  Judging  by  his  countenance,  he  does  not  appear  to  be  a 
desperate  character,  but  to  have  been  casually  led  into  crime. 

Along  two  shelves  over  the  door,  and  on  the  top  of  an  adjoining  cupboard  are  arranged 
three  rows  of  the  busts  of  murderers  who  have  been  executed  at  Newgate. 


r  ITKWaAIB  JAIL  BIFOmt  THE  X 


f.  rial  LiirtilK 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  697 

Tlie  depnfy-goyernor  pointed  out  to  us  the  bust  of  the  miscreant  Greenacre/who  had  a 
very  sinister  appearance.  The  brow  is  narrow  and  low,  and  the  underface  sensual,  strongly 
indicative  of  a  man  of  low  passionate  character.  Another  bust  was  pointed  out  to  us  as  that 
of  Daniel  Good,  for  murdering  a  female,  a  paramour  of  his,  and  burning  the  body  in  his  stable. 
The  countenance  was  better  moulded  than  that  of  Greenacre.  The  mouth  had  a  peculiar 
expression,  yet  the  face  did  not  indicate  the  daring  nature  of  his  crime.  **  There,"  said  the 
deputy-goYemor,  looking  to  a  full,  large  bust,  **  is  Courvoisier,  who  was  executed  for  the 
murder  of  Lord  William  BnsseU.  The  brow  is  low,  the  lower  part  of  the  face  sensual,  and 
the  neck  fdll  and  protruding  under  the  ears.  **  You  will  remark,"  said  the  deputy-governor, 
'*  the  upper  lip  of  most  of  the  group  is  thick,  which  might  be  caused  by-  the  process  of 
hanging."  Some  of  them  had  their  eyf  s  open,  and  others  had  them  shut.  We  saw  the  bust 
of  Lani,  executed  for  the  murder  of  a  prostitute  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Haymarket,  a 
heavy,  brutal-looking  countenance ;  and  that  of  Mullins,  lately  executed  for  the  murder  of 
an  old  lady  at  Stepney,  who  was  so  base  as  to  charge  an  innocent  man  with  the  offence.  He 
had  a  heartless,  politic,  hypocritical  expression  of  &ce,  and  we  could  'believe  him  to  have 
been  guilty  of  the  most  atrocious  crimes, 

\*  The  Kitchen. — On  leaving  the  anteroom  we  pass  through  the  lodge  along  the 
gloomy  passage  to  the  back  above  referred  to,  and  retrace  our  steps  through  the  heavy  iron 
bolted  door  on  the  left.  On  our  way  to  the  kitchen  we  pass  along  the  side  of  a  room  enclosed 
with  glass  panelling,  in  the  centre  of  a  large  apartment  with  groined  roof.  It  is  used  for 
the  solicitors  conversing  with  the  prisoners  respecting  their  defence.  There  we  observed  the 
son  of  a  Prench  baron  committed  to  Newgate  for  a  month  for  not  giving  evidence  against 
his  father  in  reference  to  an  assault  committed  upon  him.  He  was  conversing  with  a  lady 
who  occasionally  visited  him  during  his  confinement. 

We  proceeded  along  a  narrow,  gloomy  passage  lighted  with  gas,  and  went  into  the  kitchen, 
which  was  very  similar  in  dimensions  and  general  appearance  to  the  lodge,  entering  by  a  largo 
door  of  massive  structure  furnished  with  similar  locks  and  bolts.  Opposite  to  it,  fronting 
the  Old  Bailey,  are  two  other  ponderous  doors,  through  which  the  culprit  passes  to  the 
drop  on  the  morning  of  the  execution.  On  such  occasions  over  the  door  leading  from  the 
passage  are  two  irons  fixed,  on  which  two  long  rods  are  suspended  with  black  curtains 
attached  to  them. 

In  the  kitchen  are  two  large  coppers,  sufficient  to  cook  food  for  300  prisoners.  The 
steam  is  conveyed  away  from  the  coppers  by  means  of  copper  pipes,  that  lead  through  a 
grated  window  into  the  open  air.  On  shelves  were  ranged  bright  tins  for  the  use  of  the 
prisoners,  and  wooden  trays  to  carry  the  food  from  the  kitchen  to  the  various  prison  cells.* 

%•  Qnridor  of  Male  Prison, — Leaving  the  kitchen,  and  bending  our  steps  to  the 
left,  we  go  along  another  sombre  passage  of  the  same   character  as  the  one  described. 

•  TiTE  ^LLownra  19  xns  diltabit  ov  vswaAXB  saiu 

Hreakftui  iot  Male  Prisoners  :— 

8  OS.  of  bread. 

1  pint  of  ofttmeal  gruel,  alternately  seasoned  mth  8Alt  and  molasses. 
Ditto  for  Female  Piuoners : — 

Some  diet  as  the  moles,  with  the  exception  that  they  have  6  os.  instead  of  8  02.  of  bread. 
Dinner,    On  Sunday,  Tuesday,  Thursday,  and  Saturday  the  males  and  females  have  8  oz.  of  cookod  meat 
without  bone,  8  02.  of  bread,  and  half  a  pound  of  potatoes. 

On  Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday  they  have  a  pint  of  soup  and  8  ozi  of  bread* 

The  soap  contains  8  oz.  of  meat  with  vegetables. 

The  females  have  6  oz.  of  bread  instead  of  8  oz. 
Bujpper.     The  iNune  as  the  break&at. 


698  THE  GREAT  WOKLD  01?  LOJTDOIT. 

Passing  through  a  door  at  the  extremity,  we  enter  a  covered  hridge  leading  across  a  court 
into  the  corridor  of  the  male  prison.  It  has  four  galleries,  numbered  respectively  together 
with  the  cells,  on  the  ground  floor  A,  B,  C,  D,  and  E,  and  is  surmounted  with  a  glass  roof, 
which  presents  a  very  cheerful  appearance  very  unlike  the  remaining  portion  of  the  old 
prison.  We  observed  a  stair  on  the  outside  conmiunicattng  with  each  gallery,  which  is 
girdled  with  an  iron  balustrade.  There  is  also  a  hoisting  machine,  by  which  provisianB 
can  be  conveyed  to  each  gallery  in  the  short  space  of  a  minute  and  a  half.  There  is  a  machine 
for  weighing  the  provisions,  in  the  centre  of  the  corridor,  and  a  dial  over  the  second  gallery. 
The  following  is  a  note  of  the  cells,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  occupied,  together 
with  the  classification  of  the  prisoners :—- - 

Ko.  of  cells*  List  of  prisoners.  Cl<ut^catio», 

Basement  .        11  Reception  ward.  0 

Basement  A  .17  -        .        .        .  15  Bemanded  prisoners. 

Gallery     B  .        27  •        .        •        .  22  Transports  and  penal 

servitude  men. 

—  C  .        26  .        •        .        .  16  Felons. 

—  D  •        26  ....  13  Misdemeanours. 

—  E  .        26  ....  Empty. 

In  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  the  deputy-governor  gave  us  the  following  statement : — 
"  The  prisoners  are  brought  here  in  prison  vans  from  the  various  police  courts  over  the 
metropolis,  being  committed  for  trial  by  the  magistrates.  The  City  magistrates  commit  to 
Newgate,  and  send  prisoners  for  remand  as  well  as  for  trial.  The  metropolitan  police  courts 
only  send  those  who  have  been  committed  for  trial.  Those  sentenced  by  the  justices  of  the 
metropolitan  police  courts  are  sent  to  the  House  of  Correction  at  Coldbath  Fields,  whereas 
those  in  the  City  are  sent  to  HoUoway  Prison.  Prisoners  convicted  of  a  capital  offence 
remain  in  Newgate  until  they  are  executed  or  reprieved.  Some  are  incarcerated  in  Newgate 
for  short  terms  by  the  judges  of  the  Old  Bailey,  such  as  for  contempt  of  court,  and  others 
are  sent  by  the  House  of  Commons  for  a  similar  offence." 

"Newgate,"  continued  the  chief-governor,  "is  a  house  of  detention  for  prisoners  before 
trial,  as  well  as  for  those)  sentenced  to  penal  servitude,  kept  here  for  a  short  time  awaiting 
an  order  from  the  Secretary  of  State  to  remove  them  to  the  Government  depots  for  the 
reception  of  convicts.  In  all  cases  of  murder  tried  at  the  Old  Bailey^  the  prisoners  are  sent 
here.  When  convicted  they  are  given  over  to  the  sheriff  of  the  county  where  the  offences 
have  been  committed.  If  done  in  Essex,  the  murderer  is  removed  to  Chelmsford ;  if  in  Kent 
he  is  removed  to  the  county  gaol  at  Maidstone,  and  if  in  Surrey  he  is  taken  to  Horse- 
monger  Lane  Gaol." 

On  the  basement  of  this  wing  are  the  reception  cells,  and  bath  rooms,  and  the  punish- 
ment cells. 

%*  C7<?H«.— The  deputy-governor  showed  us  into  one  of  the  cells  in  the  corridor,  which 
we  found  to  be  7  feet  wide,  13  feet  long,  and  8  feet  10  inches  high,  at  the  top  of  the  arch.  It 
has  a  window  with  an  iron  frame  protected  by  three  strong  iron  bars  outside.  The  fumituro 
consists  of  a  small  table  which  folds  against  the  wall,  under  which  is  a  small  wooden  shelf 
contdning  brushes,  etc.,  for  cleaning  the  cell,  a  small  three  legged  stool,  and  a  copper  basin 
well  supplied  with  water  from  a  water-tap.  On  turning  tbe  handle  of  the  tap  in  cue 
direction  the  water  is  discharged  into  the  water-closet,  and  on  turmng  it  the  reverse  way  it 
is  turned  into  the  copper  basin  for  washing.  Each  cell  is  lighted  with  gas,  with  a  bright 
tin  shade  over  it.     On  the  wall  is  suspended  the  prisoner's  card. 

There  are  three  triangular  shelves  in  a  comer  of  the  cell,  supplied  with  bedding,  eic.^  as 
in  other  prisons  we  visited.    The  floor  is  laid  with  asphalt ,  over  the  door  is  a  gxatinj 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  699 

admitting  heated  air,  with  an  opening  under  the  window  opposite  to  admit  fresh  air  at  the 
pleasure  of  the  priBoner.  Under  the  latter,  and  near  the  basement  of  the  cell  is  a  grating 
similar  to  the  one  over  the  door,  leading  to  the  extraction  shaft  carrying  off  the  foul  air,  and 
causing  a  dear  ventilation. 

Each  cell  is  fhmished  with  a  handle  communicating  with  the  gong  in  the  corridor,  by 
which  the  prisoner  can  intimate  his  wants  to  the  warder  in  charge ;  and  the  door  is  provided 
with  trap  and  inspection  plate. 

All  the  cells  in  the  corridor  are  of  the  same  dimensions,  and  similarly  fomifhcd. 

Before  leaving  the  corridor,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  we  visited  several  of  the 
cells.  "We  first  went  to  Gallery  B,  occupied  by  penal  servitude  men.  In  one  cell  we  saw  a 
pleasant-looking,  dark-complexioned  man  of  about  30  years  of  age,  sitting  with  one  knee 
crossed  over  the  other  reading  a  book. 

In  another  we  saw  a  man  of  the  same  age,  apparently  of  Hibernian  stock,  sitting  with 
his  feet  on  a  three-legged  stool.  He  had  finished  picking  his  quantity  of  oakuum,  which  lay 
in  a  treacle  coloured  heap  on  the  floor.  The  deputy-governor  informed  us  he  was  an  old 
band,  and  more  expert  at  his  work  than  the  others. 

We  found  a  tall,  good  looking  man  of  the  same  age,  walking  to  and  fro  in  his  cell,  who 
had  also  finished  picking  his  oakum.  The  deputy-governor  informed  us  he  was  a  notorious 
housebreaker,  who  had  already  been  transported  for  four  years,  and  was  now  sentenced  to 
another  longer  term  of  fifteen  years  for  housebreaking.  He  stated  he  was  an  interpreter,  and 
was  able  to  speak  several  languages.  When  brought  to  the  prison  he  was  elegantly  dressed  in 
the  first  of  fashion.  He  was  the  finest  looking  fellow  we  ever  saw  in  a  prison,  and  had  a 
noble  and  commanding  presence. 

In  one  of  the  cells  we  saw  a  dark-complexioned  young  man  of  about  30  years  of  age 
with  his  back  to  us  teasing  oakum.  He  had  a  pile  of  oakum  lying  before  him,  but  his  work 
was  not  nearly  done.  He  was  a  postman  sentenced  to  penal  servitude  for  appropriating  the 
contents  of  some  of  the  letters  committed  to  his  care.  The  deputy-governor  observed, 
"  They  work  steadily,  but  do  not  have  the  knack  of  the  old  hands,  who  do  their  work  more 
expeditiously." 

In  an  adjoining  cell  was  afiother  postman  charged  with  a  Hke  offence. 

While  in  the  corridor  we  saw  a  well  dressed,  gentlemanly  man  of  mature  years,  pass  up 
a  stair  into  a  cell  in  Gallery  C.  He  had  just  come  from  having  an  interview  with  his  legal 
adviser,  on  a  very  serious  charge  of  embezzlement. 

On  looking  into  one  of  the  cells,  we  saw  a  prisoner  with  his  vest  and  coat  taken  off,  sitting 
at  a  table  writing  with  manuscripts  spread  before  him.  He  appeared  to  be  a  smart,  business 
man,  and  had  been  a  cashier  to  an  extensive  wholesale  commercial  house  in  the  City,  along 
with  the  person  just  referred  to,  and  had  also  embezzled  a  heavy  sum.  He  had  been  a  fust 
young  man,  and  frequented  different  dancing  rooms,  which  led  to  his  ruin. 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  respectable  looking  man  in  middle  life,  seated  at  his  table  with 
his  head  leaning  on  his  hand,  and  copious  manuscripts  spread  before  him.  On  seeing  us 
approach  he  appeared  to  be  a  little  sensitive.  He  was  dressed  in  a  iino  black  coat  and  vest, 
and  light  trousers.  He  was  charged  wit&  obtaining  goods  to  tne  enormous  amoont  of 
£  1 2,000,  and  represented  himself  to  be  a  merchant.  He  resided  in  Bdgravia,  an  aristocratic 
locality  of  London.  The  deputy-governor  remarked,  "  it  rarely  happens  criminals  of  this 
kind  are  caught  in  the  meshes  of  law,  though  no  doubt  such  transactions  are  carried  on  by 
swindlers  of  that  description  to  a  great  amount." 

In  another  cell  we  saw  a  foreigner,  on  artist,  who  had  gained  an  ignoble  celebrity  by 
attempting  to  extort  money  from -a  lady,  his  lover.  He  was  apparently  about  35  years  of 
age,  and  was  handsomely  equipped  in  a  dark  frushionable  suit.  While  we  were  present  he 
was  occupied  writing,  possibly  preparing  for  his  trial. 


coo  THE  GREAT  WOBUD  OF  LONDON. 

%*^  Jieeepiion  CeUs,  Baths,  and  FmMment  Cells, — On  proceeding  to  tLe  basement  we 
yisited  the  reception  cellsi  whicli  ore  eleven  in  number,  of  the  same  dimensions  as  those  in 
the  corridor  aboye,  and  fitted  up  in  the  same  manner. 

There  are  three  slate  baths,  about  six  feet  long,  two  feet  broad,  and  two  feet  and  a 
half  deep,  provided  with  footboards.  They  are  heated  by  means  of  pipes  communicat- 
ing with  the  boiler  in  the  engine-room.  Two  of  them  are  fitted  up  in  one  cell,  with  a  dross* 
ing-room  adjoining.  The  other  bath  is  in  a  long  room,  where  there  is  a  fireplace  and  a  large 
metal  vessel,  heated  by  steam,  to  cleanse  the  prisoners'  clothes  from  vermin  and  infection. 
This  resembles  a  large  copper,  and  is  about  two  and  a  half  feet  in  diameter  and  three  feet  deep, 
with  an  ample  lid  screwed  down  so  firmly  that  no  steam  can  escape.  The  clothes  are  put 
into  it  and  subjected  to  the  action  of  the  steam  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  when  the 
vermin  is  destroyed.  The  clothes  are  not  in  the  slightest  degree  injured.  This  vessel  is 
heated  by  means  of  a  steam-pipe  connected  with  the  boiler  in  the  engine  room.  The  bath 
is  similar  to  the  others  already  noticed. 

The  dark  cells  are  situated  at  the  extremity  of  the  new  wing  on  the  basement*  They 
are  six  in  number,  and  are  of  the  same  dimensions  as  the  other  cells.  No  light  is  admitted 
into  them,  but  they  are  well  ventilated.  The  furniture  of  each  consists  of  a  wooden  bench, 
to  serve  as  a  bed — ^though  it  is  a  hard  one — and  a  night  utensil ;  and  the  flooring  is  of  stone. 
There  are  two  doors  on  each  cell,  l^hen  shut,  they  not  only  exclude  a  single  beam  of  light, 
but  do  not  admit  the  slightest  sound. 

The  deputy-governor  remarked,  "There  are  very  few  punishments  inflicted  in  this 
prison.  Sometimes  the  prisoners  infringe  the  prison  rules,  by  insolence  to  their  officers  or 
making  away  with  their  oakum  instead  of  picking  it.  We  have  only  had  two  persons  in  the 
dark  cells  for  the  past  two  years." 

Opposite  the  bath  room  is  an  engine  room,  fitted  up  with  two  immense  boilers  for  heat- 
ing the  whole  of  the  prison  and  keeping  the  baths  supplied  with  hot  water.  The  engineer 
informed  us  that,  during  the  winter,  nearly  a  ton  of  coals  is  consumed  per  day.  The  pipes 
are  conveyed  into  the  difierent  cells  for  the  purpose  of  heating  them.  Along  the  walls  are 
arranged  a  copious  supply  of  iron  tools  for  the  purpose  of  repairing  the  difierent  locks,  etc, 

*^*  The  VUiting  of  Prisoners  hf/  their  Friends. — Leaving  the  corridor  of  the  male  prison 
we  returned  to  the  passage  across  the  court,  covered  with  thick  glass,  where  relatives  and 
friends  are  permitted  occasionally  to  visit  the  prisoners.  On  each  side  of  it  is  a  donble 
grating,  fenced  with  close  wirework,  of  about  four  feet  wide,  occupied  by  the  prisoners. 
The  relatives  take  their  station  on  each  side  of  the  passage  during  the  interviews,  and  a 
warder  is  stationed  by  their  side  to  overlook  them.  On  one  occasion  we  were  present  when 
several  of  the  prisoners  were  visited  by  their  friends.  One  of  them  was  a  man  of  about  fifty 
years  of  age — a  Jew — charged  with  having  been  concerned  in  the  forgery  of  Russian  bank 
notes.  He  was  an  intellectual-looking  fair-complexioned  man,  with  a  long  flowing  beard 
and  a  very  wrinkled  brow,  and  his  head  bald  in  front.  He  was  very  decently  dressed,  and 
appeared  deeply  interested  while  he  conversed  in  broken  English  through  the  wiie-scseen 
with  an  elderly  woman,  who  appeared  to  be  warmly  attached  to  him,  and  who  was  profoondly 
afiected  with  his  situation.  He  appeared  to  be  a  shrewd  man  of  the  world.  Alongside  was 
a  genteel-looking  young  man,  with  sallow  complexion  and  fine  dark  eye,  who  was  visited  by 
a  tall  young  woman,  decently  dressed,  who  stood  with  a  white  bundle  in  her  hand.  It 
appeared  this  prisoner  was  under  remand  for  stealing  clothes  from  his  employers.  He  looked 
sullen,  and  though  apparently  attached  to  the  young  woman,  was  very  taciturn,  and  looked 
aroxmd  him  with  a  very  suspicious  air.  A  modest-looking  elderly  man,  with  silver  hair, 
genteely  attired  in  dark  coat  and  vest  and  grey  trousers,  stood  with  a  bundle  in  his  band, 
and  was  busily  engaged  conversing  with  a  little  smart  woman  of  advanced  years,  dressed  in 
a  grey  dress  and  dark  shawl.    We  learned  he  was  charged  with  embezzlement 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  601 

On  the  other  ride  of  the  passage  two  young  lads,  dressed  as  costermongers,  were  visited 
by  two  plain-looking  young  girls,  apparently  belonging  to  their  own  order,  who  did  not  look 
by  any  means  Tory  concerned.  Meantime  a  middle-aged  woman  was  introduced  into  the 
passage,  dressed  ]ike  the  wife  of  a  mechanic,  and  her  eyes  red  with  weeping.  She  held  a 
white  handkerchief  in  one  of  her  hands,  and  was  under  great  excitement.  Soon  after,  a 
plain-looking  boy,  of  about  twelve  years  of  age,  was  brought  out  of  the  corridor  adjoining, 
and  came  up  to  her.  On  seeing  him,  she  gave  an  outcry,  and  burst  into  tears.  Soon  after, 
she  changed  her  mood  and  looked  angry,  while  her  son  began  to  make  protestations  of  his 
innocence.  She  cautioned  him  not  to  be  refractory,  as,  she  said,  "that  would  break  her 
heart  more  than  anything.'*  She  told  him  she  would  come  again  and  see  him.  The  bell 
rang,  which  was  the  signal  that  the  time  allowed  for  viriting  was  expired,  when  she  reluc- 
tanUy  followed  the  steps  of  the  other  visitors  who  were  proceeding  back  towards  the  lodge 
of  the  prison.  The  boy  wept  aloud  as  she  was  leaving  him,  and  was  removed  back  to  his 
cell.    It  appeared  he  was  charged  with  passing  bad  money. 

*«*  Th$  Murdertrs^  OeUs. — Leaving  the  male  corridor  we  pass  through  an  iron  gate  on 
the  left  into  a  small  passage,  paved  with  slate,  beride  an  ezerdsing-ground  bordering  on 
Newgate  Street,  which  extends  along  the  farther  ride  of  the  new  wing.  On  turning  to  the  left> 
towards  the  front  of  the  prison,  we  came  to  two  rooms  reserved  for  murderers.  Each  of  these 
is  about  the  size  of  two  common  cells,  and  has  an  arched  brick  roof  supported  on  iron  girders. 
The  wretched  men  confined  in  these  are  watched  day  and  night  by  a  warder.  The  furniture 
conaiBts  of  a  wooden  bedstead  about  nine  inches  in  height  from  the  floor,  supplied  with  the 
following  bedding :  a  mattress,  three  blankets,  a  pair  of  sheets,  and  a  pillow,  a  table  larger 
than  in  the  ordinary  cells,  and  a  settle  about  six  feet  in  length.  It  is  lighted  by  an  iron- 
grated  window  with  fluted  glass.  The  floor  is  laid  with  asphalt.  There  is  also  an  alarm 
bell,  which  communicates  with  the  adjoining  corridor,  where  a  warder  is  constantly  on  duty 
night  and  day.  There  are  three  triangular  shelves  in  a  comer  of  the  room,  furnished  pretty 
similar  to  the  ordinary  cells.  A  knife  is  not  allowed  them — ^the  food  being  cut  up  into 
small  pieces  in  the  kitchen  before  it  is  brought  to  the  prisoner ;  this  is  to  prevent  his  laying 
violent  hands  on  himself.  Every  precaution  is  taken  in  such  an  extreme  case.  As  this  wing 
of  the  prison  has  been  recently  erected,  there  has  only  been  one  murderer  conflned  in  one  of 
them— the  miscreant  Mullins — for  murdering  Mrs.  Emsley  of  Stepney,  whose  conviction 
was  chiefly  owing  to  the  ingenious  and  admirable  management  of  the  late  Inspector  Thorn- 
ton of  Scotland  Yard.  Mullins  was  a  middle-aged  man  of  a  wretched  appearance.  He  was 
a  returned  convict,  and  had  been  at  one  time  in  the  constabulary  force  in  Ireland.  "  During 
the  time  he  was  in  custody,  before  his  execution,"  said  the  deputy-governor,  **  he  conducted 
himself  very  well,  and  was  quiet  and  orderly  as  most  in  his  rituation  are."  The  cell  along, 
ride  is  of  a  similar  character. 

•»•  Burying  Ground  of  the  Murderers. — On  leaving  the  murderers*  cells  we  followed  the 
deputy-governor  through  the  midst  of  the  convicts  clad  in  dark-grey  prison  dress,  consist- 
ing of  jacket,  vest,  and  trowsers,  and  Scotch  cap.  At  the  farther  end  of  the  exercising 
ground  we  proceeded  through  the  corridor,  and  went  under  the  covered  arch  leading  into  an 
exercisiug-yard  of  the  same  description  as  the  opporite  ride  of  the  new  wing.  We  continued 
our  course  until  we  reached  the  airing-yard  attached  to  the  female  prison,  which,  like  the 
others,  is  covered  with  pavement,  where  we  entered  a  long  passage  about  eight  feet  wide, 
extending  from  the  extremity  of  the  associated  rooms  of  the  old  prison,  now  to  be  used  as  on 
inflrmary,  to  the  nearest  comer  of  the  female  wing,  where  it  turns  off  in  a  right  angle  along 
the  back  of  the  female  prison  to  the  Sesrions  House  adjoining.  This  portion  contiguous  to 
the  female  wing  is  the  graveyard  of  the  murderer;  so  that  when  conducted  to  and  from  the 
dock  of  the  Old  Bailey  he  passes  over  the  ground  which  is  to  be  his  own  grave.    It  is 

44 


602  THE  GBEAT  WOBUD  OF  LOITOON. 

bounded  on  the  one  side  by  the  lofty  walls  of  the  female  prison,  and  on  the  other  by  a  Tety 
high  wall  flanking  it  from  the  adjacent  outlying  dwellings.  It  is  laid  with  pavement, 
portions  of  which  have  been  displaced  by  the  sinking  of  the  ground,  perhaps  caused  by  the 
mouldering  of  the  bodies  beneath.  Along  the  walls,  on  each  side,  are  the  initials  of  the  snr- 
names  of  the  assassins,  such  as  G  for  Greenacre,  G  for  Good,  M  for  Mullins,  L  for  Lani. 
This  plain-looking  passage  is  invested  with  tragic  interest,  when  we  think  of  the  mouldering 
bones  of  the  murderers  rotting  beneath,  and  carry  our  imagination  back  to  the  deeds  of 
horror  they  transacted,  the  recital  of  which  have  brought  paleness  to  many  a  cbeek. 

•#♦  Uxercising  Chrounds. — There  are  four  exercising  grounds,  all  of  them  paved,  con- 
nected with  the  male  wing,  in  addition  to  a  fifth  belonging  to  the  female  branch  of  the 
prison.  Two  of  them  consist  of  a  long  narrow  strip  of  ground  on  each  side  of  the  male  wing. 
The  other  two  are  situated  between  the  old  associated  rooms  at  the  back  of  the  prison  and 
the  rooms  set  apart  for  the  chaplain  and  the  solicitors. 

In  proceeding  from  the  new  wing  of  the  male  prison  we  go  through  a  strong  iron  door 
into  a  large  square  exercising  ground,  about  fifty  feet  long  and  forty-eight  feet  broad.  In  a 
comer  of  it  is  another  grated  enclosure  for  visiting  the  prisoners.  It  extends  on  each  side 
of  the  door  through  which  the  criminal  passes  to  the  drop  to  be  executed.  There  is  here  a 
pump  connected  with  an  artesian  well  in  the  groimd  below.  On  looking  around  us  we  are 
surrounded  with  the  dark  lofty  walls  of  the  old  prison,  about  forty  feet  high,  together  with 
the  red  brick  walls  of  the  new  wings,  which  arc  in  some  places  armed  with  iron  spikes,  to 
prevent  the  escape  of  the  prisoners.  On  one  occasion  we  saw  a  detachment  of  prisoners  in 
this  exercising  ground.  T^ey  were  clad  in  their  own  apparel,  and  were  marching  actively 
round  the  square,  about  three  yards  apart  from  each  other.  Some  of  them  appeared  to  be 
felons  of  the  lower  order,  in  miserable,  poverty-stricken  attire ;  others  were  dressed  as  labour- 
ing men.  A  remarkable  group  of  five  persons  was  pointed  out  to  us  by  one  of  the  warders 
as  being  charged  with  the  forgery  of  the  Russian  bank  notes.  They  were  of  Jewish  extrac- 
tion, but  of  different  style  of  countenance.  An  active  good-looking  man,  of  about  thirty-five 
years  of  age,  with  fine  features,  attired  as  a  well-dressed  mechanic,  is  charged  with  forging 
the  plate,  and  the  others  are  implicated,  more  or  less,  in  the  transaction.  One  of  them, 
a  thin-faced,  slim,  smart,  fair-complexioned  youth,  of  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,  was 
dressed  in  a  drab  greatcoat  and  hat.  Other  two  had  strongly-marked  Jewish  features,  and 
were  of  dark  complexion,  and  apparently  of  about  forty  years  of  age.  The  other  was  the 
intelligent-looking  man  we  saw  in  the  visiting  ground,  as  already  noticed.  He  appeared  to 
us,  although  not  the  forger  of  the  plate,  to  be  the  chief  of  the  gang. 

Adjoining  this  square  exercising  ground,  and  behind  the  solicitor's  room,  is  a  yard  of 
narrower  dimensions,  divide4  from  the  other  by  a  wall  about  fourteen  feet  high,  formidably 
crowned  with  strong  iron  spikes.  There  is  also  a  pump  in  this  yard,  communicating  with 
another  artesian  spring,  and  an  iron  grating  about  three  feet  from,  the  wall  adjoining  the 
grated  windows  of  the  solicitor's  room.  There  were  no  prisoners  exercising  here  at  the  time 
of  our  visit. 

On  a  subsequent  visit  we  saw  several  boys  exercising  in  the  narrow  court  adjoining  the 
murderers'  cells.  A  pale-faced,  knock-kneed  lad  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  with  a  tcit 
sinister  look,  was  charged  with  getting  money  by  a  forged  order.  He  was  dressed  in  dark 
clothes.  A  little  schoolboy,  of  ten  years  of  age,  with  a  very  innocent-looking  face,  was 
charged  with  stealing  a  glazier's  diamond,  and  is  now  under  remand.  He  was  dressed  in 
ordinary  trowsers  and  dark  grey  jacket.  Another  genteel  lad,  of  about  fifteen  years  of  age, 
is  charged  with  stealing  money  from  his  employer,  a  hosier,  in  Regent  Street.  Another  bey, 
dres?sed  in  shabby  black  dress,  is  charged  with  attempting  to  hang  himself.  He  was  undtr- 
waiter  in  an  eating-house  in  the  City,  and  had  formed  an  attachment  for  a  girl  who  pre- 
ferred another.    In  chagrin  and  despair,  the  poor  lad  attempted  to  take  his  own  life  b j 


UEWGATE  JAIL.  603 

hanging  UmBelf  in  the  kitchen  where  he  was  employed.  As  we  looked  on  bis  gentle  quie^ 
countenance  we  could  scarcely  believe  he  was  capable  of  sucjx  a  desperate  deed. 

Soon  after,  tie  boys  were  removed  from  the  exercising  ground,  and  were  replaced  by  a 
gang  of  men  clad  in  the  grey  prison  dress.  They  were  mostly  from  18  to  35  years  of  age, 
and  were  all  under  sentence  of  penal  servitude  for  different  periods.  "  They  are  detaine(J 
here  but  a  limited  time/'  said  the  deputy-governor,  "  awaiting  an  order  from  the  Secretary 
of  State  to  be  removed  to  one  of  the  government  prisons.  Meantime  they  are  employed 
picking  about  three  pounds  of  oakum  a  day."  They  consisted  of  pickpockets,  burglars, 
forgers,  and  others,  along  with  two  murderers ;  and  did  not  by  any  means  appear  to  be  so 
dejected  as  we  would  have  expected.  A  bright-eyed  tall  English  youth  was  pointed  out  to 
us  as  a  convicted  burglar.  A  quiet  middle-aged  man,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  with  a 
dejected  mien,  had  been  guilty  of  forgery  to  a  serious  amount.  He  had  been  a  solicitor  in 
the  metropolis,  with  an  extensive  business  and  bright  prospects,  but  he  had  lived  a  gay  life, 
beyond  his  means,  which  led  to  his  crime  and  ruin.  A  young  man  of  colour  was  charged 
with  passing  bad  money.  He  had  lately  returned  from  penal  servitude  for  four  years.  "We 
particularly  observed  the  young  lad,  Reeves,  charged  with  murdering  his  sister  in  Drury 
Lane.  He  is  of  robust  frame,  about  sixteen  years  of  ogo,  fair-complexioned,  with  a  full 
intelligent  countenance,  and  modest  demeanour.  He  walked  actively  around  the  exercising 
ground,  smiling  occasionally  to  an  Irish  youth,  n  prisoner.  The  deputy-governor  observed 
he  Avas  a  very  quiet  well-behaved  lad,  and  must  have  been  exasperated  by  ill-treatment  to 
the  commission  of  his  bloody  deed. 

The  other  murderer,  Maloney,  charged  with  murdering  a  woman  in  "Westminster,  is  a 
strong  athletic  man,  of  about  forty-five  years  of  age,  and  is  apparently  a  quick-tempered, 
determined  man.    He  was  evidentiy  in  good  spirits. 

%*  Old  Associated  Booms. — Before  treating  of  the  old  associated  rooms,  which  are  now 
about  to  be  transformed  into  an  infirmary,  we  may  advert  to  the  alterations  which  have  been 
lately  made  in  Newgate  Prison.  The  old  sombre  prison  of  our  day  was  a  new  building  in 
the  time  of  the  redoubtable  prisonbreaker.  Jack  Sheppard.  The  whole  of  his  daring  exploits 
were  achieved  in  an  older  building  of  smaller  dimensions,  the  site  of  which  extended  in  the 
direction  of  Giltspur  Street.  The  present  gaol  of  Newgate  was  erected  in  1784,  imder  the 
direction  of  George  Dance,  junior,  architect  and  clerk  of  the  city  works.  Only  a  small 
portion  of  the  old  gaol  was  left  till  lately,  at  the  farther  extremity  fronting  Newgate  Street. 
The  whole  of  the  erections  within  the  wing  contiguous  to  Newgate  Street  were  cleared  away 
in  1858,  consisting  of  associated  rooms,  cells,  small  exercising  yards,  etc.,  and  a  now  wing 
was  erected  in  the  form  of  a  large^  lofty  corridor,  extending  from  the  one  extremity  of  tho 
building  to  the  other. 

In  1861  the  female  prison  was  taken  down  and  a  new  wing  erected,  consisting  of  a 
corridor  and  laundry,  after  the  more  approved  modem  plan  of  prison  architecture.  The 
central  portion  of  Newgate,  consisting  of  the  governor's  residence,  lodge,  kitchen,  chaplain's 
room  and  solicitor's  room,  together  with  the  associated  rooms  at  the  back,  were  left  untouched. 
They  are  built  in  more  massive  and  gloomy  style,  and  leave  a  more  solemn  impression  on  the 
mind  than  the  light  airy  corridors  of  our  modem  model  prisons.  There  are  six  of  those 
asssociated  rooms  ;  two  of  them  adjoining  the  female  exercising  ground  are  to  be  fenced  off 
and  appropriated  to  the  females,  and  the  other  four  to  be  attached  to  the  male  branch  of  the 
prison,  and  to  be  used  as  an  infirmary. 

On  ascending  the  massive  stone  staircase  which  leads  to  one  of  those  large  associated  rooms, 
we  saw  strong  iron  rods  fixed  into  the  wall.  By  this  means  the  warder  could  climb  up  to  look 
through  the  inspection  openings  made  into  the  solid  wall.  The  doors  leading  into  these  rooms 
are  fenced  with  iron,  and  secured  with  strong  lock  and  bolts.  On  entering  one  of  them  wo 
found  it  to  be  about  thirty-seven  feet  long,  sixteen  feet  wide,  and  fourteen  feet  high.     A  long 


604  THE  GBEAT  WOULD  OF  LONDOK". 

deal  table,  about  eixteen  inches  in  breadth,  extends  along  the  centre  of  the  room,  with  forms 
on  each  side.  Between  this  table  and  the  back  wall  are  eighteen  wooden  bunks,  built  over 
each  other  in  three  tiers,  as  on  board  ship,  in  which  the  prisoners  sleep.  There  axe  four 
windows  in  the  room  with  panes  of  glass  in  iron  frames,  protected  from  without  by  strong 
iron  bars.  The  flooring  consists  of  oak  caulked  with  oakum,  and  with  strong  iron  frame- 
work between  the  ceiling  and  the  flooring.  There  is  a  fireplace  with  a  narrow  chimney, 
fenced  at  intervals  with  cross-bars  of  iron  let  into  the  solid  wall,  and  a  coal  oellar  and  water- 
closet  attached.  In  such  places  as  these  the  criminals  of  the  olden  times— common  thieves, 
pickpockets,  burglars,  and  others — ^used  to  herd  together  indiscriminately ;  and  no  doubt 
many  of  them,  in  their  own  way,  had  a  jolly  time  of  it.  They  were  supplied  with  pro- 
visions by  their  pals  and  relatives,  and  were  not  compelled  to  live  on  the  prison  fare  as  now* 
The  deputy-governor  informed  us  that  as  many  as  twenty  would  sometimes  be  found  in  one 
of  these  rooms,  which  were  nurseries  of  crime — ^the  old  hardened  felon  contaminating  the 
young  and  inexperienced.  At  the  time  he  came  to  the  prison,  about  twenty-five  years  ago, 
the  prisoners  slept  on  the  floor  upon  rope  mats  with  woollen  coverlets,  which  were  after- 
wards replaced  by  wooden  bedsteads,  similar  to  the  berths  as  on  board  ship.  Then,  as  now, 
the  prisoners  did  not  do  any  labour  before  trial ;  but  after  trial  were  sent  to  correctLooal 
prisons. 

'*  In  those  days,"  continued  the  deputy-governor,  "  the  doors  of  these  rooms  were  left 
open  from  momiDg  to  night,  and  the  prisoners  had  access  to  each  other's  rooms,  as  well  as 
to  the  exercisiDg  yards,  until  the  time  of  locking  up  at  night.  A  bell  rang  at  dusk  all  the 
year  round,  for  them  to  come  in  to  their  respective  wards,  when  the  officers  visited  than 
and  ascertained  if  the  proper  number  was  present.  There  was  no  picking  oakum  then  and 
no  labour ;  but  the  food  supplied  them  is  better  now.  Before  trial,  the  prisoners  had  it 
in  their  choice  to  take  the  gaol  allowance  or  to  procure  food  of  their  own." 

Before  the  recent  alterations  of  the  prison  commenced  in  1858,  an  old  cell  was  said  to 
be  seen  where  Jack  Sheppard  had  been  confined.  It  was  an  associated  room,  about 
eighteen  feet  square,  with  lofty  ceiling,  and  was  situated  on  the  second  storey,  over  the 
ground  now  occupied  as  the  central  square  exercising  ground  of  the  male  prison.  The  door 
was  of  massive  strength,  and  the  windows  were  double-barred.  The  roof  consisted  of  lath 
and  plaster,  behind  which  were  solid  bars  of  iron  and  an  oaken  roof,  and  sheets  of  copper. 
There  were  ring-bolts  attached  to  the  oaken  floors,  to  which  the  prisoners'  heavy  chains  were 
attached.  We  visited  a  cell  of  similar  dimensions  on  the  second  storey,  contigix>QB  to  the 
solicitor's  room,  which  is  at  present  used  as  an  infirmary.  There  we  &und  one  aolitary 
prisoner  extended  on  a  bed,  seriously  indisposed,  and  apparently  in  a  critical  condition, 

*4^*  The  Chapel. — ^We  visited  the  chapel,  which  is  of  moderate  size.  It  has  two  galleries^ 
one  for  females  with  a  black  screen  before  it,  and  the  other  for  the  men  under  sentence  of 
penal  servitude.  In  front  of  the  female  gallery  is  painted  the  royal  anna — ^the  lion  and  tha 
unicorn ;  and  in  front  of  the  male  gallery  is  the  city  arms,  with  the  motto,  **  Domine  dirige 
nos" — (0  Lord,  direct  us.) 

There  is  a  pulpit  and  reading-desk  similar  to  those  in  an  ordinary  chapel,  which  «re 
wainscoated  and  covered  with  dark  doth.  On  each  side,  in  the  area  below,  there  are  seats 
for  the  prisoners  detained  for  trial,  enclosed  within  iron  stanchions.  Alongside  of  the  cells 
in  the  gallery,  on  the  male  side,  is  a  pew  for  the  magistrate,  and  another  seat  for  the  *hf«riffi& 
when  attending  service  on  the  morning  the  prisoner  is  to  be  executed.  The  condemned  sits  aa 
a  chair  in  the  area  below,  by  the  side  of  the  pulpit,  beside  the  governor's  pew,  with  a  warder 
by  his  side.  There  are  a  few  seats  in  the  area  of  the  chapel  for  the  offioera  of  the  piiaon* 
Several  long  windows,  looking  into  the  interior  of  the  courts,  are  protected  by  iron  f4^"^^y*'M' 
The  chapel  has  a  wooden  flooring,  and  is  lighted  by  a  dark-painted  gas  chandelier. 

There  is  an  altar  enclosed  in  an  iron  railing,  covered  with  dark  cloth  and  cushion;  orer 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  606 

it  is  infloribed  a  copy  of  the  Ten  Commandments^  and  over  against  it  a  copy  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer  and  the  Creed. 

We  were  not  present  at  any  of  the  services. 

The  depnty-govemor  stated — "  We  have  prayers  every  morning  from  half-past  9  to  10 
o'docky  and  have  two  services  on  Sundays,  in  the  morning  and  afternoon.'' 


The  Fmale  Prison. 

On  advancing  fhrongh  the  lodge  into  the  interior  of  the  prison,  and  taming  along  the 
passage  to  the  right  we  pass  through  a  heavy  door,  feused  with  iron,  leading  through  the 
female  exercising  ground  to  the  female  wing  of  the  prison.  The  yard  is  of  an  irregular 
form,  being  narrower  at  this  end,  and  having  a  portion  fenced  off  with  strong  iron  railing 
for  female  prisoners  receiving  the  visits  of  their  friends.  The  visitors  stand  in  a  narrow 
passage  3  feet  wide  and  15  feet  long,  and  converse  with  the  prisoners,  who  take  their  station 
on  the  exercising  ground.  An  officer  patrols  in  an  intervening  space,  a  few  feet  wide,  be- 
tween them.  This  visiting  groimd  is  covered  with  thick  glass,  so  that  the  friends  of  the 
prisoners  are  sheltered  duiing  the  inclemency  of  the  weather. 

Crossing  the  exercising  ground  we  pass  beneath  an  iron  and  slate  bridge  leading  from  the 
new  female  wing  to  the  chapel.  We  then  enter  a  wide  passage,  eight  feet  wide,  and  go 
through  an  iron  gate  leading  into  the  corridor  of  the  female  wing,  which  is  very  similar  in 
its  general  oonstruction  to  that  of  the  male,  only  it  is  not  so  large»  and  has  three  galleries 
instead  of  four.  As  we  enter  the  female  corridor  we  observe  two  boxes  fitted  up  with  glass 
windows  and  doors,  for  the  use  of  the  solicitors  meeting  the  prisoners,  with  the  view  of 
conducting  their  cases,  having  a  wooden  partition  between  them.  There  is  a  seat  in  front  for 
the  prisoner  when  advising  with  her  agent.  Each  of  these  boxes  is  furnished  with  a  table^ 
an  inkstand,  and  a  chair. 

Li  the  centre  of  the  corridor  we  find  a  staircase  leading  down  to  the  basement,  and  near 
the  farther  end  is  a  stair  connected  with  the  first  gallery.  The  corridor  is  lighted  by  a 
cheerful  glass  roof,  similar  to  that  in  the  male  wing,  and  the  galleries  are  encircled  with 
railings.  On  the  right  of  this  passage,  as  we  enter,  two  small  rooms  have  been  frmushed 
for  the  sub-matron,  a  young  active  wuder;  and  on  our  left  hand  are  three  apartments  fitted 
up  for  the  matron — ^the  other  side  of  the  corridor  consisting  of  a  series  of  cells  for  the 
prisoners,  and  termed  A,  while  the  three  galleries  above  are  respectively  named  B,  C,  and  D. 

%♦  Receptum  Cells,  Funishment  CeUs,  and  Bath  Rooms. — ^We  descended  with  the  matron 
to  the  basement,  and  visited  the  Reception  Ward,  consisting  of  nine  cells  about  the  same  size 
as  those  in  the  male  branch  of  the  prison. 

These  are  much  darker  than  those  in  the  corridor  above.  There  was  not  a  single  prisoner 
confined  in  them  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  nor  had  there  been  so  for  several  days  previous. 
They  were  frimished  very  similar  to  those  in  the  male  reception  ward  already  described. 

There  are  two  bath  rooms  in  the  reception  ward,  each  containing  two  baths,  which  are 
dimly  lighted  during  the  day,  being  situated  on  the  basement,  under  the  gloomy  shadows  of 
the  surrounding  walls.  The  baths  are  3  feet  6  inches  deep,  5  feet  6  inches  long,  and  2  feet 
wide,  and  are  set  in  a  wooden  framework.  They  are  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water 
by  means  of  pipes  connected  with  the  male  prison. 


606  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

The  matron  informed  us  there  are  58  cells  in  the  female  prison,  vhich  are  generally 
ocenpied  by  about  26  prisoners.     At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  were  fewer  than  usual 

There  is  another  bath  room  of  a  larger  size,  and  more  cheerfully  lighted,  at  the  extre- 
mity of  the  reception  ward,  containing  a  bath  similar  to  the  others  we  have  mentioned, 
with  a  footboard  as  in  the  other  bath  rooms.  In  this  bath  room  is  a  fumigating  apparatus, 
resemblii)g  a  large  copper,  painted  black,  and  resting  on  a  brick  pediment.  There  is  a 
steam-pipe  let  in  to  the  bottom  of  this  vessel,  through  the  flooring,  to  cleanse  the  dirty  linen 
and  clothing. 

There  are  two  dark  cells  contiguous  to  those  we  have  mentioned  in  the  reception  ward. 
Each  of  them  is  furnished  with  a  wooden  bedstead  having  a  board  raised  2|  inches,  on  which 
the  prisoner  reclines  her  head.  The  bedstead  is  about  6  feet  in  length,  and  2  feet  3  inches 
in  breadth.     These  cells  are  floored  with  slate,  and  roofed  with  brick. 

%•  The  Laundry, — On  entering  the  laundry,  which  is  about  thirty-six  feet  long  and 
eighteen  feet  broad,  we  observed  two  large  coppers  built  into  brickwork,  and  supplied  with 
steam  by  means  of  pipes.  There  is  also  a  water-pipe  which  supplies  them  with  water.  On 
the  outside  of  the  brickwork,  connected  with  the  bottom  of  the  coppers,  there  is  a  tap  which 
carries  off  the  water,  when  soiled,  through  an  iron  grating  into  a  drain  imder  the  flooring. 
Adjoining  are  two  new  wooden  rinsing  troughs,  with  two  pipes,  to  supply  them  with  hot 
water,  and  a  wringing  machine  with  two  crank  handles,  patented  by  "  Manlove,  Alliott,  and 
Company,  engineers,  Nottingham.*'  There  are  six  washing-boxes,  each  of  them  provided  with 
two  washing -troughs  having  a  wooden  partition  between  them.  The  larger  of  the  troughs 
is  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water,  and  the  smaller  one  with  cold  water  only.  We  found 
several  female  prisoners  busy  washing.  They  wash  the  clothes  in  the  larger  one,  and  use 
the  other  for  rinsing.  The  doors  of  these  boxes  have  no  wooden  panels,  but  are  £iced  with 
iron  gratings,  by  which  the  warder  on  duty  can  see  the  prisoners  at  their  work. 

"We  passed  into  the  ironing-room,  which  is  supplied  with  six  wooden  horses,  where  the 
clothes  are  hung  up  to  dry  and  exposed  to  the  action  of  steam.  They  are  drawn  out  and  in 
upon  iron  slides  about  twelve  feet  long.  Li  this  apartment  is  contained  a  store  of  the  female 
prison  clothing,  consisting  of  blue  wincey  gowns  with  dark  stripe,  a  blue  checked  apron,  a 
petticoat,  a  blue  checked  neckerchief  and  white  cap,  along  with  underclothing.  It  is  also 
furnished  with  a  large  table  for  folding  and  ironing  the  clothes,  a  mangling  machine,  and 
a  stove  for  heating  the  irons.  At  the  time  of  our  visit  there  was  a  large  table  in  the  centre 
of  the  room,  containing  a  great  heap  of  male  prison  clothing,  along  with  a  pile  of  sheets  for 
the  use  of  the  male  and  female  prison,  the  prisoners  were  about  to  wash. 

This  apartment  is  nearly  forty  feet  in  length  and  eighteen  feet  in  breadth,  and  is  lighted 
by  a  large  oblong  skylight,  similar  to  the  other  apartment — the  roofs  of  both  being  lofty  and 
airy.  The  apartment  is  floored  with  wood,  with  the  exception  of  the  part  opposite  to  the 
drying  horses. 

The  laundry  warder  informed  us — "  There  are  at  present  four  female  prisoners  employed 
in  washing  the  clothes  belonging  to  the  male  and  female  prison.  They  commence  their 
work  at  7  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  finish  at  5  in  the  afternoon.  As  a  general  mle,  they 
are  engaged  from  Monday  to  Friday  afternoon. 

On  leaving  the  laundry  we  visited  several  of  the  cells  in  the  corridor  above,  which  were 
more  gloomy  and  lonely  in  appearance  than  in  any  other  prison  we  had  visited — ^partly 
caused  by  the  overhanging  clouds  of  smoke  which  loom  over  the  city,  and  partly  by  the 
sombre  lofty  surrounding  walls  of  the  prison. 

Most  of  the  prisoners  were  ordinary-looking  persons,  charged  with  conmion  offences. 
In  one  of  the  rooms  used  as  an  infirmary  we  saw  an  elderly  woman,  of  abont  fifty  years  of 
age,  her  countenance  very  haggard,  walking  to  and  fro  in  her  cell  with  her  head  covered. 
She  is  charged  with  throwing  vitriol  on  a  child,  and  had  been  confined  with  bronchitis,  bui 


ITEWGATE  JAII.  607 

is  now  in  a  convalescent  state.  The  matron  informed  us  she  has  been  in  a  better  position  in 
life  than  most  of  the  other  prisoners.  After  a  time  she  sat  down  beside  a  woman  of  about 
thirty-Ave  years  of  age — a  miserable,  distressed- looking  creature — charged  with  strangUng 
her  child,  who  was  then  employed  knitting.  A  very  coarse-looking  young  woman  was 
con£ned  along  with  them,  charged  as  an  accomplice  in  a  burglary,  who  had  been  placed  beside 
them  to  attend  to  their  wants.  This  was  one  of  the  most  dismal  pictures  we  had  seen  in 
the  course  of  our  visits  to  the  London  prisons. 

%*  Tke  Engines, — We  were  introduced  to  the  engineer  of  the  prison,  who  informed  us 
that  he  superintended  the  warming  and  ventilating  of  the  prison,  and  likewise  executed 
repairs  of  various  kinds,  such  as  locks,  bells,  gas  fittings,  etc. 

He  conducted  us  into  the  boiler-room,  which  contains  two  steam  boilers  used  for  warming 
the  main  prison  by  means  of  pipes  extending  through  both  wings.  These  boilers  also  supply 
steam  to  the  hot  water  tanks  for  the  baths  in  both  prisons.  The  steam  is  also  conducted  by 
means  of  pipes  into  two  coppers  in  the  laundry  for  boiling  the  clothes,  and  also  into  the 
drying  closet,  where  the  clothes  are  spread  out  on  the  six  wooden  horses.  Sometimes  it  is 
nsed  for  the  ventilation  of  the  prison  in  sununer,  by  rarefying  the  air  in  the  extraction  shaft, 
which  rises  60  or  70  feet  high. 

The  vitiated  air  is  extracted  from  the  cells  by  smaller  flues  connected  with  the  main  flue, 
and  thence  passes  into  the  extraction  shaft.  By  the  powerful  extraction  consequent  on  the 
height  of  the  shaft  about  30  cubic  feet  of  fresh  air  is  drawn  through  each  cell  in  a  minute. 
This  prison  is  ventilated  on  the  same  principle  as  th^  model  prisons,  from  designs  invented 
by  Haden  and  Son,  Trowbridge. 

The  engineer  conducted  us  to  the  shaft,  and  showed  us  the  various  pipes  used  in  the 
ventilation.  Passing  from  the  extraction  shaft  we  saw  the  machine  for  destroying  vermin 
in  the  prisoners'  clothing  by  means  of  steam  being  admitted  into  it,  which  is  much  superior 
to  fumigating  with  brimstone,  adopted  in  many  other  prisons. 

In  answer  to  our  queries,  the  engineer  stated,  "  I  generally  have  one  of  the  prisoners  to 
assist  me  as  a  stoker,  and  sometimes  1  have  a  smith  or  carpenter  in  the  repairs  required  in 
the  prison.  I  conmience  my  duties  in  the  morning  at  a  quarter  to  six  o'clock  in  the  summer, 
and  a  quarter  to  seven  in  the  winter,  and  finish  at  half-past  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
excepting  Sundays.     I  leave  every  Sunday  morning  at  ten  o'clock. 

%*  Tke  Sessions  Souse  is  situated  adjoining  to  Newgate.  The  older  wing  is  uniform 
with  it  in  external  appearance,  and  was  the  ancient  Sessions  House.  In  former  times  there 
was  only  one  High  Criminal  Court  held  there,  but  the  business  is  now  divided  among 
three;  and  sometimes  a  fourth  is  held  in  the  Grand  Jury  room,  all  within  the  same 
building  in  the  Old  Bailey.  The  heavier  offences  are  tried  here,  such  as  forgery,  arson, 
coining,  manslaughter,  murder,  etc.  At  one  or  other  the  Recorder  and  the  Conunon  Serjeant 
are  seated  on  the  bench  and  other  judges  of  the  State. 

The  old  Court-room,  which  is  represented  in  the  engraving,  is  only  about  50  feet  square. 
There  are  six  small  moveable  desks,  on  which  the  judges  take  their  notes,  and  write  their  com- 
munications, comfortably  seated  on  cushioned  seats  of  a  crimson  colour.  The  panelling 
behind  them  is  covered  with  crimson  cloth  sadly  faded.  Over  the  centre  of  the  bench  there 
is  a  tasteful  wooden  canopy,  surmounted  with  the  Royal  arms  beautifully  carved.  A  sword  of 
Justice,  with  a  gold  handle  and  ornamental  scabbard  is  usually  suspended  under  the  canopy 
during  the  sittings  of  the  Court.  Opposite  to  the  bench,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Court- 
room is  the  dock,  a  small  enclosure,  13  feet  by  19,  where  the  criminals  stand  to  take  their 
trial.  The  jury-box,  consiBting  of  two  long  seats,  is  situated  on  the  right  hand  of  the  judges. 
The  Clerk  of  the  Arraigns  occupies  a  desk  beneath  the  bench,  and  fronting  the  dock.  The 
attorneys  are  seated  around  a  table,  in  the  area  of  the  Court,  covered  with  green  cloth,  and 


608  THE  GREAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

the  counsel  In  wig  and  gown,  their  official  costome,  occupy  three  seats  alongside.  Bduiid 
the  latter  there  are  several  seats  for  the  reporters,  with  others  for  the  Mends  of  the  judges, 
and  for  a  portion  of  the  jury  in  waiting.  The  prisoners  enter  the  dock  by  a  Btaircase 
behind  communicating  with  the  cells  beneath.  The  governor  of  Newgate  occupies  a  seat 
at  the  corner  of  the  dock,  by  the  side  of  the  prisoners  and  their  attendants.  Behind  and 
above  the  dock  there  is  a  small  gallery  for  the  public,  where  heads  are  seen  peering  over  as 
in  the  engraving,  and  there  are  usually  a  number  of  solicitors,  barristers,  witnesses,  and 
policemen  clustered  around  the  area,  and  to  be  seen  in  the  various  passages. 

There  are  seven  doors  entering  into  the  old  Court-room ;  two  of  them  on  the  side  next 
to  Newgate,  one  of  them  in  the  area  being  for  witnesses,  and  another  more  elevated  being 
a  private  entrance  for  the  judges.  On  the  opposite  side  there  are  two  doors,  one  for  the  jiny 
and  counsel,  and  the  other  a  private  entrance  for  the  judges  and  magistrates  who  take  their 
seats  on  the  bench.  There  is  another  door  behind  the  bench,  by  which  any  of  the  judges 
are  able  to  retire  when  disposed ;  and  on  each  side  of  the  dock  there  is  a  door  for  the  entranoe 
of  the  witnesses,  solicitors,  and  jury. 

This  Court-room  is  lighted  by  three  large  windows  towards  Newgate,  and  by  three 
smaller  sombre  windows  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  deputy-governor  of  Newgate  informed  us,  that  all  classes  of  heavy  offences  are 
tried  at  the  Old  Bailey  Criminal  Court,  which  is  the  highest  in  England.  The  prisoners  are 
brought  from  the  prison  of  Newgate  and  placed  in  cells  under  the  courts,  until  ihey  are 
called  to  the  bar  to  be  tried.  They  are  then  brought  into  the  dock  to  answer  to  the  criminal 
charges  brought  against  them.  The  indictments  are  read  over  to  each  of  them,  and  they  are 
asked  by  the  Clerk  of  the  Arraigns  if  they  are  gmlty  or  not  guilty.  If  they  plead  guilty, 
they  are  ordered  in  the  meantime  to  stand  back.  If  they  plead  not  guilty,  they  remain  at 
the  bar  imtil  all  the  pleas  are  taken  of  the  other  prisoners  at  the  dock.  After  this  is  done 
the  jury  are  called  into  the  jury  box,  to  proceed  to  investigate  the  di£Eerent  cases.  The 
prisoners  can  object  to  the  jurymen  before  being  sworn.  If  the  prisoner  at  the  bar  is  found 
guilty,  he  is  sentenced  by  the  judge,  and  removed  to  the  prison.  If  he  is  declared  not  guilty, 
a  discharge  is  written  out  by  the  governor,  and  he  retires  from  the  bar. 

In  the  case  of  a  murderer,  he  is  taken  to  the  Court  in  custody  of  an  officer.  He  is 
arraigned  at  the  bar  in  the  same  way  as  the  other  classes  of  prisoners.  If  ibunu  guilty  he  is 
taken  back  to  the  condemned  cell,  where  he  is  watched  day  and  night  until  he  is  executed, 
which  generally  takes  place  within  three  weeks  thereafter. 

The  deputy-governor  stated : — ''  I  find  the  murderers  to  be  of  very  different  characiers. 
Some  are  callous  and  ruffian-like  in  demeanour,  but  others  are  of  more  gentle  and  peaceable 
disposirion,  whom  you  heartily  pity,  as  you  are  convinced  from  all  you  see  about  them,  that 
they  had  been  incited  to  the  commission  of  their  crime  through  intemperance  or  other  inci- 
dental causes,  foreign  to  their  general  character.  We  find  those  to  be  worst  who  premedi- 
tated their  crimes  for  gain.  There  have  been  few  murderers  here  who  assassinated  from 
revenge.  I  have  seen  29  criminals  executed  in  front  of  Newgate,  and  was  present  in  the 
Court  at  the  trial  of  most  of  them.  Palmer  was  one  of  the  most  diabolical  diaracten 
among  penal  offenders  I  ever  saw  in  Newgate,  and  Mrs.  Manning  the  most  callous  of  femaks. 
Palmer  was  a  gentlemanlike  man,  educated  for  a  surgeon.  By  giving  himself  up  too  much 
to  gambling  and  field  sports  he  was  led  to  the  murder  of  J.P.  Cooke  to  repay  his  losses.  He 
was  executed  at  Stafford,  and  was  only  temporarily  under  our  custody  here.  In  person  he 
was  strong  built,  about  the  ordinary  height,  and  had  very  strong  nerves.  Mrs.  Manning 
was  a  very  resolute  woman,  but  her  husband  was  a  very  imbecile  character,  and  had  been 
dragged  into  crime  through  the  strong  mind  of  his  wife,  who  had  formerly  been  lady's  maid 
to  the  Duchess  of  Sutherland. 

'*  I  was  in  charge  of  Greenacre,'*  added  the  deputy-governor,  *'  the  night  previmiB  to  his 


NEWGATE  JAIL.  609 

execution.  He  was  a  coarse-looking  man  of  about  fifty  years  of  age,  and  was  a  hardened 
miscreant.  He  murdered  a  female  wlio  cohabited  with  him  in  1837,  and  cut  up  her  body 
and  distributed  it  over  different  parts  of  the  metropolis.  This  case  made  a  very  great 
sensation  at  the  time,  and  there  were  upwards  of  16,000  spectators  at  his  execution.  The 
houses  fronting  Newgate  charged  three  guineas  for  a  station  at  their  windows  to  witness 
the  execution.  Two  sovereigns  were  given  for  a  seat  on  the  roofs  of  some  of  the  houses. 
There  were  numbers  of  persons  of  distinction  on  the  house-tops  and  in  the  windows  opposite. 

''  I  have  seen  some  of  the  murderers  very  imnerved  when  on  the  eve  of  their  execution ; 
as,  for  example,  Hooker,  a  schoolmaster,  tried  in  April  1845,  for  the  murder  of  Mr.  Delarue 
in  the  fields  at  Hampstead.  He  was  a  young  man,  and  assumed  the  greatest  bravado  up  to 
the  moment  of  his  execution.  The  officers  in  Newgate  knew  very  well  it  was  only  pre- 
tended. After  he  was  pinioned  on  the  morning  of  his  execution,  it  was  evident  to  all  present 
that  he  was  unnerved^  and  had  lost  his  former  effirontery.  On  the  first  stroke  of  the  prison 
bell,  which  gave  the  signal  to  the  culprit  to  move  forward  to  the  place  of  execution,  his  face 
changed  to  different  colours,  and  he  fell  backwards,  overcome,  into  the  arms  of  his  attendants. 
He  was  obliged  to  be  carried  out  and  placed  under  the  fatal  beam,  and  was  held  up  by  the 
o£Scers  till  the  executioner  drew  the  bolt.^ 

The  deputy-governor  informed  us  he  has  taken  notes  of  the  executions  in  Newgate  since 
1816,  when  criminals  were  hanged  for  cutting  and  wounding,  burglary,  forgery,  uttering 
base  coin,  etc.  The  law  was  changed  in  1836  in  reference  to  capital  punishments,  and  the 
sentence  of  death  is  now  restricted  to  murder  and  high  treason.  In  1785  nineteen  persons, 
and  in  1787  no  less  than  eighteen  were  executed  at  one  time. 

When  females  are  convicted  of  murder,  they  ate  asked  by  the  Clerk  of  Arraigns  if  they 
have  anything  to  urge  why  sentence  of  death  should  not  be  passed  on  them.  The  matron 
who  sits  in  the  dock  beside  a  female  culprit,  asks  if  she  is  in  the  family  way.  A  curious 
case  took  place  in  1 847.  Mary  Ann  Hunt,  being  convicted  of  murder,  was  asked  by  the  Clerk 
of  the  Arraigns  if  she  had  anything  to  urge  why  sentence  of  death  should  not  be  passed 
upon  her.  She  replied  through  the  matron  in  the  dock  that  she  was  with  child.  An  unusual 
step  was  here  taken.  A  jury  of  twelve  married  women  were  summoned  to  Court,  who  on  being 
sworn,  examined  her.  After  they  were  absent  for  some  time,  they  returned  into  the  Court, 
and  stated  she  was  not  with  child.  She  was  afterwards  examined  by  the  medical  officer  in 
Newgate,  and  found  to  be  pregnant.  She  gave  birth  to  a  son  on  the  28th  of  December 
following.    When  before  the  Court  she  must  have  been  eight  months  gone  with  child. 

<*  During  the  time  I  have  been  in  Newgate,*'  said  the  deputy-governor,  *'I  have  only 
seen  two  women  executed.  The  murderers  generally  sleep  well  on  the  night  before  their 
execution. 

"  The  scaffold  is  erected  immediately  before  the  execution.  The  workmen  commence 
about  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  finish  about  six  o'clock.  Executions  generally  take 
place  on  the  Monday  morning.  The  wooden  fences  around  the  scaffold  to  keep  back  the 
spectators,  are  generally  put  up  on  the  Monday.  The  scaffold  is  about  the  size  of  a  large 
caravan,  the  sides  being  let  down,  and  a  beam  erected  over  it.  The  floor  is  composed  of  two 
parts,  constructed  so  as  to  fall  down  to  each  side.  The  executioner  touches  a  handle  similar 
to  a  common  pump  handle,  which  detaches  the  bolt  underneath,  and  the  murderer  is  suspended 
by  the  neck  in  presence  of  the  vast  confluence  of  people.  He  generally  hangs  for  one  hour, 
when  a  coffin  is  brought  and  placed  under  the  body.  The  executioner  in  presence  of  the 
sheriff,  or  some  of  the  authorities,  takes  hold  of  the  body  and  puts  it  into  the  coffin,  after 
having  cut  the  rope.  The  coffin  is  then  brought  into  one  of  the  wnrds  of  the  prison,  and 
is  afterwards  buried  in  the  interior  of  Newgate  in  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  in  presence 
of  the  governor  or  the  under-sheriffs. 

The  deputy-governor  stated  that  before  being  interred  the  body  is  inspected  by  the 


610 


THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 


medical  officer  of  Newgate  in  the  presence  of  the  slieriffia,  and  ascert^ed  to  be  lifeless ; 
and  a  cast  is  generally  taken  of  the  head  and  face.  "  The  greatest  confluence  of  people," 
he  added,  "  I  ever  saw  assembled  at  an  execution  here  was  in  the  case  of  Greenacre  in  1837, 
and  MuUins  in  November  1860.  There  were  about  16,000  people  present  on  each  of  iiiese 
occasions.  The  crowd  generally  musters  on  the  Sabbath  evening  at  eiglil  o'clock,  and 
increases  during  the  night,  consisting,  to  a  great  extent,  of  boys  and  jgirls.  itie  greater 
portion  of  the  spectators  assemble  between  six  and  seven  o'clock. 


GENERAL  STATISTICS  OP  NEWGATE  JAIL  FOE  THE  YEAR  ENDING  SEPT.  1860. 


KTTMBEB  OS  FSISOKEBS. 

Kales.  Eamalas. 

For  trial  at  Afisizes  and  SessioiiB...  907  ...  208 

Summary  ConTictions —  ,..  — 

Want  of  sureties  —  ...  — 

Eemanded  and  discharged 148  ...  69 

Debtors  and  didl  process 3  ...  — 

Mutiny  Act  ...;. 1  ...  — 


Tota  commitments 1069 


277 


PBBYIOUSLY  OOHUITTED  TO  Ainr  PEISON. 

Males.  Females* 

Once 177  ...      67 

Twice 71  ...      12 

Thrice   24  ...        2 

Four  times    10  ...        4 

Five  times 2  ...       — 

Seyen  times,  and  aboTC  five 3  ...      — 

Ten  times,  and  above  seven 2  ...      — 

Above  ten  times  —  


Total 


289    ...      76 


AOB  AND  SEX. 


Under  twelve  years 9 

Twelve  to  sixteen  years    48 

Sixteen  to  twenty-one  years    206 

Tweuty-one  to  thirty      „       434 

Thirty  to  forty „        198 

Forty  to  fifty „        118 

Fifty  to  sixty „        84 

Sixty  and  above  28 

Age  not  mentioned — ■ 


Males.    Vemsles. 
6 
..        6 
..      59 
..    101 
65 
88 
6 
8 


Total 


.1055 


••< 


277 


'CASES  OP  sioionEss. 

Males.  Females. 

Greatest  number  at  one  time 18  ...  5 

Deaths  * 1  ...  — 

Infirmaiy  cases 19  ...  10 

Slight  indisposition  .., 690  ...  70 

Insanity- ., 


itm 


Total 


725 


ii( 


85 


DlfiBBB  OF  JSBSXUOnoV, 

Males. 

Neither  read  nor  write  146 

Bead,  or  read  and  write  imperfectly  607 

Read  and  write  well 293 

Superior  instruction 9 

Instruction  not  ascertained — 


62 

185 

80 


Total 


.1055     ...     277 


OAPACITT  AUD  BTATX  OF  XHB  FBISOK. 


Constructed  to  contain 198 

Greatest  number  at  any  one  time  .  128 
Daily  average  number  in  the  year, 
male  and  female 


43 
92 


Total 


315     ...     135 


FT7KIBHKXKTS  FOB  OFFXKGXB  DT  FBISOIT. 

Males. 

Whipping — 

Irons  or  haadcufiB    — 

Solitary  or  dark  cells    1 

Stoppage  of  Diet 77 

Other  punishments 4 


1 
6 


Total 


82     ... 


SSTABLnUSMBirT  OF  OFFIGEBfl. 

Males.    Females. 

Governor  and  Deputy 2    ...  — 

Chaplain 1     ...  — 

Surgeon 1     ...  - 

Clerk  and  Schoolmaster 2     ...  — 

Schoolmistress —    ...  1 

Upper  warders' matron   «...      2    ...  1 

Under  warders 9    ...  I 

Other  Bub-offioen 4 


Total 


21 


«•■ 


••• 


HOUSE  OF  DETENTION,  CLERE31NWELL. 


611 


BTATB  CV  SDirOATIOK  07  SXHALB  PBIS0NER8  OOMUTCTID  TO  NEWGATE  VOB  TBIAIi. 


Neither 

read  nor 

write. 

Bead  onlj. 

Imperfect. 

WeU. 

Supe- 
rior. 

Total. 

Mo.  ( 

of  previous  convictious. 

1 

8 

4  and 
over. 

October 

7 

1 

8 

2 

18 

2 

1 

NoTember 

6 

1 

7 

1 

20 

2 

2 

3 

December 

5 

1 

2 

8 

•  %^ 

■  »  • 

•  •  ■ 

Janiiary 

1              2 

10 

•  •  • 

13 

2 

1 

1 

February  

6              1 

2 

8 

12 

• .  • 

1 

1 

March   

6 

8 

6 

I 

16 

1 

1 

April 

4 

4 

A 

11 

May 

1 

1 

6 

8 
1 

9 

June  

4 

8 

$ 

13 

8 

July  

6 

6 

11      . 

•  ■'• 

23 

2 

August  

3 

2 

8 

I 

9 

1 

September  

5 

1 

4 

1 

11 

•  •■ 

Totals 

68 

28 

67 

IS 

163 

13 

4 

7 

tii. 
COUNTY  HOUSE  OJF  DlETJSNTION,   CLEBZJSNWJSLL. 

Wb  were  admitted  within  the  prison  walls  by  a  door  near  to  the  large  £ront  gate,  and  were 
shown  the  books  of  the  gate  warder,  a  smart  and  energetic  ofioer,  which  were  most  carefully 
kept.  Crossing  the  courtyard,  we  entered  the  pillared  portal  of  the  prison,  and  were  led 
into  the  presence  of  the  governor,  who  requested  the  deputy-governor  to  conduct  us  over  the 
establishment. 

As  we  enter  the  prison,  on  aui  right  hand  is  the  office  of  the  clerk,  and  opposite  to  it 
a  door  leading  to  the  reception  ward  of  the  female  prison.  Beyond  this  is  a  flight  of  steps 
on  our  right  hand,  leading  down  to  the  stores  on  the  basement,  and  on  the  other  side  of  the 
passage  is  a  winding  staircase  leadiag  up  to  the  committee  room  for  the  visiting  justices. 
Farther  into  the  interior  is  the  waiting-room  for  visitors,  and  adjoining  is  the  governor's 
o&ce. 

■ 

On  our  left;  hand  is  the  warders'  mess-room,  along  with  three  waiting-rooms  for  the 
attorneys  who  visit  the  prisoners,  with  a  view  to  conduct  their  defence. 


\*  deception  Ward, — There  are  eight  reception  ceUs  here,  four  on  each  side  of  the  pas- 
sage, beyond  the  offices  already  mentioned.  As  seen  by  a  reference  to  the  ground  plan,  the 
outer  cells  are  widest,  and  gradually  contract  towards  the  innermost  one,  which  is  near  to 
the  central  hall.  We  found  the  dimensions  of  the  outermost  cell  to  be  nineteen  feet  two 
inches  in  length,  five  feet  eight  inches  in  width,  and  nine  feet  at  the  bottom,  and  ten  feet  at 
the  top  of  the  arch.  It  is  floored  with  asphalt,  like  the  others,  and  beauti&lly  white- 
washed. The  innermost  cell  is  eight  feet  four  inches  long,  and  Ave  feet  eight  inches  wide, 
and  of  the  same  height  as  the  one  referred  to.  Each  of  them  is  lighted  by  a  window  three 
feet  six  inches  long,  and  one  foot  four  inches  wide,  and  is  ventilated  by  a  flap  in  the  centre 
of  the  window,  and  from  a  shaft  near  the  top  of  the  window  ibr  cold  air,  and  a  grating  in 
the  comer  of  the  ceU  near  the  door^  which  admits  warm  air  through  a  flue« 


OriuyxncD  plak  ov  oomrrY  hoitbb  ov  ssrsmnovy  ousaxanmLL, 


l.ftC.ViI«Wtngg. 

B.  F«iia]«WlBa. 

D.  OmtnlRiriL 

B.  PMMgM  In  the  Interior. 


O.  OardenBltedMdtofteasDff* 

H.  Porter^  LodfT*. 

L  K.  OiHoM  nttedied  to  It. 

L.  Entn  to  Pemato  Conldon. 

M.Cl«zl?sOfloo. 


N.  Wader's  Megs4oan* 
aP.Waltinv.foanM. 

iAttorneri  Hoonuk 
BeoentloBCeQa. 
8.  T,  Celb  fiir  the  Befrnclorr. 


X.  KatrjtplUiB 


HOUSE  OF  DETENTION,  CLERKENWEIL.  613 

While  visiting  these  reception  cells,  a  number  of  warders,  in  their  blue  nnifonns,  were 
bnstling  in  the  long  hall  preparing  to  conduct  two  files  of  prisoners  to  the  prison  vans  for 
trial  at  the  Sessions.  One  or  two  of  these  were  respectably  dressed,  and  had  been  charged 
with  embezzlement.  They  did  not  appear  to  feel  very  comfortable  when  ranked  up  in  line 
with  a  band  of  felons.  Ajnong  the  group  we  discerned  one  or  two  sturdy  labourers,  in  their 
white  smock-frocks,  and  could  trace  the  quick  dear  eye  and  roguish  look  of  the  habitual 
felon.  As  one  band  was  conducted  into  the  prison  van,  and  whirled  off,  a  policeman  being 
seated  in  front,  another  detachment  was  brought  from  the  interior  of  the  prison,  and  took 
its  place  in  another  van,  which  also  drove  off. 

We  descended  to  the  basement,  and  found  eleven  other  reception  cells,  each  about  half  the 
size  of  an  ordinary  cell.  They  had  no  furniture  except  a  seat,  fixed  into  the  walL  Along- 
side were  seven  baths  for  the  prisoners,  about  the  same  dimensions  as  the  latter  reception 
cells,  in  addition  to  a  bath  for  the  warders,  and  one  for  the  governor. 

The  reception  warder  informed  us :  ''  The  prisoners  are  received  here  from  the  county  of 
Middlesex  and  the  metropolitan  police  courts  on  this  side  of  the  river,  with  the  exception  of 
those  in  the  city.  They  consist  of  prisoners  on  remand,  or  for  trial  at  the  Middlesex 
Sessions ;  person  in  default  of  bail,  deserters  from  the  army,  and  cabmen  for  infringing  the 
Hackney  Carriage  Act.  They  are  generally  brought  here  in  vans  from  the  police-courta 
referred  to,  or  from  the  county,  being  occasionally  escorted  hither  by  the  police.  Each 
constable  brings  a  commitment  along  with  the  prisoner,  which  is  handed  over  to  me. 

^'  The  prisoners  are  brought  from  the  van  to  the  outer  hall  of  the  prison.  The  serjeantin 
charge  states  the  number  he  has  in  custody,  and  from  what  courts  they  have  come,  which  is 
duly  entered,  after  which  they  are  lodged  meanwhile  in  the  reception  cells  above.  So  soon 
as  tlie  vans  have  all  arrived  from  the  different  courts,  the  prisoners  are  taken  down  to  the 
basement,  when  they  are  thoroughly  searched,  their  property  taken  from  them,  and  their 
names  and  ages  carefully  set  down.  They  are  then  taken  to  the  bath-rooms  and  cleansed,  after 
which  they  are  formed  in  line,  and  the  rules  of  the  prison  read  to  them.*  After  this  routine 
they  are  brought  up  into  th&  centre  of  the  prison,  and  distributed  to  their  several  wards. 

*  BULIB  BlLATIHO  TO  THS  COVDUOT  AMD  TbXATMENT  OF  PRISONXBS,  CBETIVIXD  A8  PBOPCB  TO  BK  EMFOBCKD 
PUMUAKT  TO  tSM  5tH  AMD  6tH  Wm.  IV.,  GAP.  38,  AND  THB  2irD  AND  3bD  YiO.,  CAP,  66, 

Priionen  OonmiUed  frr  Tri(Ur-f(in' I!x«mma^on^--or  want  qf  Sm-eiie^         those  CammUM  oi  Jkterttrst 

or  under  th^  Madmey  Carriage  Act. 

1.  All  prisoners  shall,  on  admission,  bo  placed  in  a  separate  cell.  Thej  shall  he  strictly  searched  by  the 
gOYemor,  or  by  an  officer  appointed  by  him  for  that  purpose,  or  by  the  matron  and  a  female  officer,  or  by  two 
female  officers  appointed  as  aforesaid,  if  a  female  prisoner.  All  knives,  sharp  instmments,  dangerous 
weapons,  or  artides  calculated  to  fscilitate  escape,  or  otherwise  desirable  in  the  discretion  of  the  governor 
to  be  removed,  shall  be  taken  firom  them ;  all  money  and  other  effects  brought  in  with  them,  or  subsequently 
sent  in  for  their  use  and  benefit,  shall  be  taken  care  of  for  them.  The  governor  shall  take  charge  of  suck 
money  and  effects,  and  make  an  inventoxy  of  them,  to  be  entered  in  the  prisoners'  property  book. 

2.  Every  prisoner  shall  be  examined  by  the  surgeon  before  being  passed  into  his  or  her  proper  cell ; 
having  been  examined,  they  shall  be  cleansed  in  a  warm  or  cold  bath,  as  the  surgeon  may  direct.  The  hair 
of  female  prisoners  shall  only  be  cut  in  cases  when  necessary  for  the  removal  of  dirt,  or  the  extirpation  of 
vermin,  or  when  the  medical  officer  deems  it  requisite  on  the  ground  of  health ;  mole  prisoners  shall  be 
shaved  at  least  once  a  week,  and  their  hair  cut  when  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  health  and  cleanliness. 
No  prisoner  shaU  be  st:ipped  or  bathed  in  the  presence  of  any  other  prisoner. 

3.  The  wearing  apparel  of  every  prisoner  shall  be  fumigated  and  purified ;  and  if  the  surgeon  thinks  it 
necessary,  wearing  apparel  may  be  homed.  Prisoners  before  trial  may  wear  their  own  clothes,  if  safficiont 
and  proper ;  but  if  the  wearing;  apparel  of  prisoners  before  trial  be  insufficient,  improper,  or  necessary  to  be 
preserved  for  the  purposes  of  juctico,  such  prisoners  may  be  furnished  with  a  plain  suit  of  coarse  cloth. 

4.  As  convenient  places  for  the  prisoners  to  wash  themselves  are  provided,  with  a  sufficient  allowance  of 
water,  soap,  towels,  and  combs,  every  prisoner  shall  be  required  to  wash  thoroughly  once  a  day,  and  his  feet 
at  least  once  in  every  week. 

5.  Every  prisoner  shall  be  provided  with  a  separate  hammock,  in  a  separate  celL    Every  prisoner  shall 


6U  THE  GEEAT  WOBLD  OF  lONDOIT. 

^'  In  the  event  of  any  of  their  garments  being  in  a  bad  condition,  a  suit  of  prison  cloth- 
ing is  furnished  them,  conBisting  of  a  dark  blue  jacket,  vest,  and  trowsers,  and  good  under 
clothing.    Their  own  clothes  being  restored  to  them  on  their  liberation. 

be  provided  with  safficient  bedding  for  warmth  and  health  ;  and,  when  ordered  by  the  sargeon,  with  two 
sheets  and  a  pillow  in  addition.    The  whole  shall  be  kept  properlj  clean. 

6.  ISo  tobacco  shall  be  admitted  for  the  nse  of  any  prisoner,  except  hy  written  order  of  the  surgeon. 

7.  No  prisoner  shall  be  permitted  to  see  any  visitor  out  of  the  place  appropriated  for  that  pnrpose,  except 
in  special  cases  nnder  a  written  order,  signed  by  a  visiting  justice  ;  and  in  the  case  of  prisoners  seriously  iU, 
by  a  written  order  of  the  governor  and  surgeon.  Male  prisoners  are  to  be  visited  in  the  presence  of  the 
governor  or  subordinate  officer  ;  female  prisoners  in  the  presence  of  the  matron  or  other  female  ofBcer.  This 
rule  is  not  to  extend  to  prisoners  when  they  see  their  legal  advisers.  The  governor  may  require  the  name 
and  address  of  persons  presenting  themselves  as  visitors,  and  when  be  has  any  grounds  for  suspicion,  may 
search,  or  cause  to  be  searched,  male  visitors ;  and  may  direct  the  matron,  or  some  other  female  officer,  to 
search  female  visitors  ;  such  search,  whether  of  male  or  female  visitors,  not  to  be  in  the  presence  of  any 
prisoner  ;  and  in  case  of  any  visitor  refusing  to  be  searched,  the  governor  may  deny  him  or  her  admission  to 
the  prison. 

8.  Any  near  relation  or  friend  may  be  allowed  to  see  a  prisoner  dangerously  ill,  under  an  order  in  writing, 
signed  by  the  governor  and  surgeon. 

9.  Any  prisoner  of  a  religious  persuasion  differing  from  that  of  the  Established  Church,  may,  on  request 
to  the  governor,  be  visited  by  a  minister  of  his  persuasion  on  Sundays,  or  on  any  other  days,  at  such  reason* 
able  hours  as  may  not  interfere  with  the  good  order  of  the  prison  ;  the  name  and  address  of  such  minister  to 
be  left  in  the  governor's  office,  and  to  be  communicated  by  him  to  the  visiting  justices.  Any  books  which 
such  minister  may  wish  to  supply  to  *the  prisoners  of  their  persuasion,  must  be  first  submitted  to  a  visiting 
justice  for  approval. 

10.  No  prisoner  shall  receive  or  send  any  parcel,  or  receive  any  food,  dothing,  or  other  articles^  without 
previous  inspection  by  the  governor,  or  by  an  officer  appointed  by  him. 

11.  Officers  on  duty  shall  attend  to  complaints  of  prisoners,  and  report  the  same  forthwith  to  the  governor. 

12.  If  a  prisoner  complain  of  illness,  the  case  shall  be  reported  without  delay  to  the  governor  and 
surgeon. 

13.  All  prisoners  shall  regularly  attend  Divine  Service,  unless  prevented  by  illness,  or  permitted  to  be 
absent  by  the  governor  or  a  visiting  justice. 

14.  Prisoners  of  the  Established  Church  shall  be  provided  with  books  and  tracts  of  religions,  moral,  and 
useful  instruction,  under  the  directions  of  the  chaplain  ;  and  prisoners  of  persuasions  differing  from  the 
Established  Church,  under  the  direction  of  the  visiting  justices.  Each  prisoner  who  can  read  shall  be  furnished 
with  a  Bible  and  Common  Prayer  Book  in  his  cell. 

15.  All  prisoners  are  bound  to  obey  the  rules  of  tlie  prison,  and  the  lawful  orders  of  the  governor  and 
other  officers,  and  not  to  treat  with  disrespect  any  of  the  officers  ;  nor  to  be  absent  from  Divine  Service,  mikss 
prevented  by  illness,  or  excused  ;  tliey  are  to  behave  properly  during  its  performance;  they  are  not  to  be 
guilty  of  swearing,  or  of  indecent  or  disorderly  conduct ;  nor  to  commit  any  kind  of  nuisances,  nor  wilfully 
damage  any  bedding,  any  part  of  the  prison,  or  any  article  or  property  therein. 

16.  Singing,  whistling,  or  shouting  in  the  cells,  rooms,  or  yards,  is  strictly  prohibited ;  and  the  following 
are  declared  to  be  acts  of  disorder,  and  to  be  punishable  as  such,  viz. : — Any  attempt  to  barter  or  exchange 
provisions ;  any  marking,  defacing,  or  injuring  the  doors,  walls,  or  chairs,  tables,  clothes,  bedding,  books,  or 
utensils  whatsoever,  of  the  prison  ;  any  secreting  of  money,  tobacco,  or  forbidden  articles  ;  any  purloining, 
or  contriving  to  purloin,  provisions,  books,  combs,  or  any  other  article  j  or  any  wilful  disobedience  of  such 
orders  of  the  governor  or  officers  of  the  prison  as  shall  he  in  accordance  with  law  and  the  rules  of  thepriK)n. 
The  governor  may  examine  any  persons  touching  such  offences,  and  may  determine  thereupon,  and  may 
punish  all  such  offences  by  ordering  any  offender  to  close  confinement  in  a  refractory  or  solitary  cell,  and  by 
keeping  such  offender  on  bread  and  water  only,  for  any  term  not  exceeding  three  days ;  but  he  shall  not 
determine  any  of  these  cases  without  previous  examination ;  neither  shall  he  delegate  his  authority  in  these 
matters  to  any  other  person.  No  punishments  or  privations  of  any  kind  shall  be  awarded,  except  by  the 
governor. 

17.  Prisoners  going  to  chapel,  to  the  airing  yards,  or  to  any  other  part  of  the  prison,  shall  be  attended  by 
one  or  more  officers,  and  silence  maintained. 

18.  Prisoners  shall  make  their  own  beds,  and  clean  their  own  cells.  Prisoners  shall  not  be  compelled  to 
work  or  labour,  but  may  have  the  option  of  employment.  But  nothing  in  this  rule  shall  prevent  the  governor 
from  requiring  prisoners  of  these  classes  to  make  their  own  beds;  and  clean  the  cells,  wards,  yards,  and 
passages  of  the  division  of  the  prison  to  which  they  belong* 

19*  Prisoners  shall  be  permitted  to  maintain  Uiemselves,  and  to  procure  and  to  receive  at  proper  hoars,  a 


HOTJBip  OF  DETENTiqjJT,  OLEBKEITWELL.  615 

"  With  reference  to  their  discharge,"  he  added,  "the  warders  of  the  different  divisions 
copy  from  the  commitments  the  date  of  release  of  each  prisoner.  There  are  some  discharged 
every  morning.  At  a  quarter-past  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  each  warder  hrings  out  such 
prisoners,  who  are  ranged  in  line.      A  list  is  furnished  to  the  reception  warder,  from  which 

reasonable  qaantitj  of  cooked  provisions,  and  malt  liquor  not  exceeding  one  pint  in  any  one  day  of  twenty- 
four  Hoars;  and  any  linen ^  clothing,  or  other  necessaries  (subject  to  a  strict  search,  and  under  such  regulations 
as  may  be  deemed  expedient,  in  order  to  prevent  extravagance  and  luxury  in  a  prison),  and  such  articles  so 
procured,  may  be  paid  for  out  of  the  monies  belonging  to  such  prisoners  in  the  hands  of  the  governor.  No 
part  of  such  food,  malt  liquor,  or  other  articles,  shall  be  given,  sold  to,  or  exchanged  vrith  any  other  prisoner  ; 
and  any  prisoner  transgressing  this  rule  shall  be  prohibited  from  procuring  any  food,  other  than  the  prison 
allowance,  or  other  articles,  for  such  a  period  as  a  visiting  justice  may  direct. 

20.  Prisoners  shall  not  receive  the  prison  allov^ance  of  food  on  the  days  whereon  thoy  procure  or  receive 
food  from  their  friends  under  the  foregoing  rule. 

21.  Prisoners  who  do  not  maintain  themselves  shall  receive  the  regular  prison  allowance  of  food. 

22.  Prisoners  shall  be  permitted  to  see  their  relations  or  friends  on  any  week  day,  without  any  order 
between  the  hours  of  twelve  and  two  in  the  afternoon;  and  at  any  other  tune  on  a  week  day,  by  an  order  in 
writing  frt)m  a  visiting  or  committing  justice,  unless  a  visiting  or  committing  magistrate  shall  have  issued  an 
order  to  the  contrary,  or  unless  the  governor  shall  know  sufficient  cause  why  any  person  should  not  be 
admitted,  in  which  cose  the  name  of  the  applicant,  together  with  the  name  of  the  prisoner  whom  he  applied 
to  visit,  and  the  date  of  the  refusal,  shall  be  entered  by  him  in  his  journal.  But  no  prisoner  shall  be  allowed 
to  see  more  than  two  visitors  on  any  one  day,  nor  shall  any  visitor  be  allowed  to  remain  longer  than  twenty 
minutes  with  a  prisoner,  without  the  especial  permission  of  the  governor,  in  which  case  the  extended  visit 
shall  be  considered  as  a  second  visit  to  the  prisoner.  The  names  and  addresses  of  all  such  visitors,  with  the 
relationship  to  the  prisoner,  if  any,  shall  be  inserted  in  a  book  to  be  kept  for  that  purpose;  and  the  prisoners 
shall  be  permitted  to  see  their  legal  adviser  (by  which  is  to  be  understood  a  certificated  attorney  or  his  autho- 
rized clerk)  on  any  day  at  any  reasonable  hour,  and  in  private  if  required.  Prisoners  may  write  or  receive 
letters,  to  be  inspected  by  the  governor,  except  any  confidential  written  communication  prepared  as  instruc- 
tions for  their  legal  adviser;  such  paper  to  be  delivered  personally  to  .the  legal  adviser  or  his  authorized  clerk, 
without  being  previously  examined  by  any  officer  of  the  prison  :  but  all  such  written  communications,  not 
personally  delivered  to  the  legal  adviser  or  liis  clerk,  are  to  be  considered  as  letters,  and  are  not  to  be  sent 
out  of  the  prison  without  being  previously  inspected  by  the  governor.  Any  person  presenting  himself  for 
admission  as  the  clerk  of  an  admitted  attorney,  shall  in  the  absence  of  his  principal,  produce  to  the  governor, 
m  such  case,  evidence  (satisfactory  to  such  governor)  of  his  being  such  an  accredited  agent;  and  the  legal 
adviser  or  bis  clerk  shall  name  the  prisoner  whom  he  wishes  to  visit 

23.  Any  person  bringing  or  attempting  to  bring  into  the  prison,  contrary  to  the  rules,  any  spirituous  or 
fermented  liquor,  may  be  apprehended  and  taken  before  a  police  magistrate,  and  upon  conviction,  committed 
to  prison  for  three  months,  unless  such  offender  shall  immediately  pay  down  such  sum  of  money,  not 
exceeding  tvrenty  pounds,  nor  less  than  ten  pounds,  as  the  magistrate  shall  impose. 

24.  Every  prisoner  in  separate  confinement  shall  be  supplied  with  the  means  of  enabling  him  to  commu- 
nicate at  any  time  with  an  officer  of  the  prison. 

25.  Every  prisoner  shall  be  supplied  with,  and  have  the  option  of  employment. 

26.  Every  prisoner  shall  be  furnished  with  the  means  of  moral  and  religious  instruction,  and  with  suitable 
books. 

27.  Every  prisoner  shall  have  the  means  of  dally  taking  as  much  exercise  in  the  open  air  as  the  medical 
officer  shall  deem  necessary. 

28.  The  governor  shall  cause  copies  of  such  of  the  rules  as  relate  to  the  treatment  and  conduct  of  tlie 
pri<ioner8  (printed  in  legible  characters)  to  be  fixed  up  in  each  cell,  and  the  same  shall  be  read  to  each 
prisoner  within  twenty-four  hours  after  admission. 

'Id.  Prisoners  committed  for  want  of  sureties,  on  summary  orders,  and  deserters,  shall  be  allowed  to 
associate  in  the  exercise  yard  for  three  hours  daily,  should  the  weather  or  other  circumstances  permit ;  in 
other  respects  they  shall  be  treated  as  prisoners  for  trial  or  for  examination. 

30.  If  the  governor  shall  at  any  time  deem  it  improper  or  inexpedient  for  a  prisoner  to  associate  with 
the  other  prisoners  of  the  class  to  which  he  or  she  may  belong,  it  shall  be  lawftd  for  him  to  confine  such 
prisoner  with  any  other  class  or  description  of  prisoners,  or  in  any  other  port  of  the  prison,  until  he  can 
receive  the  directions  of  a  visiting  justice  tiiereon,  to  whom  he  shall  apply  with  as  little  delay  as  possible,  and 
who,  in  every  such  instanoe,  shall  ascertain  whether  the  reasons  assigned  by  the  governor  warrant  such 
deviation  from  the  established  rules,  and  shall  give  such  orders  in  writing  as  ho  shall  think  fit,  under  the 
circumstances  of  the  particular  case. 


616  THE  GBEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON. 

he  calls  ont  the  different  names,  and  ascertains  if  he  has  the  right  prisoners,  and  the  courts  to 
which  thej  are  to  be  forwarded.  Thej  are  then  passed  by  the  clerk  in  the  office,  and  the 
commitments  handed  to  the  police  serjeant  in  the  yan." 

%*  Central  EM. — ^There  is  a  bright  iron  gate,  in  addition  to  a  wooden  door,  leading 
horn  the  main  building  in  front  into  the  inner  hall.  We  observe  on  onr  right  hand  a 
brass  tablet  recording  that  the  foundation  stone  of  this  prison  was  laid  by  the  most  noble 
the  Marquis  of  Salisbury,  on  the  4th  May,  1846.  The  central  hall  has  a  lofty  octagonal 
roof,  lighted  from  a  series  of  skylights,  and  by  long  narrow  windows  at  the  extremities  of 
the  corridors.  There  is  a  spiral  staircase  communicating  with  the  corridor  in  front,  termed 
the  second  division,  consisting  of  three  stories  with  two  galleries,  named  respectively  D,  £,  F. 
On  our  right  hand  is  the  corridor  of  the  first  division,  termed  A,  B,  C,  and  directly  opposite 
is  the  corridor  of  the  third  division,  styled  O,  H,  I,  the  first  and  second  divisions  being 
parallel  with  the  two  wings  of  the  female  prison  in  front.  The  general  arrangements  of  the 
corridors  are  so  similar  to  those  at  PentonviUe  and  other  prisons  we  have  already  sketched, 
that  a  fiuther  description  is  unnecessary.  The  central  hall  and  corridors  are  floored  with 
stone  and  not  with  asphalt  as  at  HoUoway. 

As  we  looked  around  us,  several  of  the  warders  in  their  blue  uniforms,  with  their  stand- 
up  collars,  ornamented  with  three  sabres  on  a  brass  shield,  as  at  Ooldbath  Fields,  were  lin- 
gering in  the  central  hall,  or  busy  over  the  galleries,  while  a  number  of  prisoners  were 
kneeling  down  beside  their  pails  washing,  or  stoning  the  floor.  Everything  around  us  had 
the  active,  vigorous  air  of  military  discipline. 

%*  Chapel. — ^Meanwhile  the  bell  rang  for  chapel  service,  and  we  went  up  a  staircase 
leading  to  the  governor's  seat,  alongside  the  pulpit,  as  at  Holloway  Prison.  There  was  only  a 
solitary  warder  then  present,  and  not  a  single  prisoner  could  be  seen  in  any  of  the  pewe^ 
which  sloped  upwards  along  the  extensive  gallery  beneath  us.  Soon  after,  a  file  of  prisoners, 
some  of  them  considerably  advanced  in  life,  entered  the  pews  at  the  back  of  the  gallery,  and 
at  the  same  time  a  troop  of  boys  occupied  those  in  front.  While  the  male  priscmers  were 
assembling,  the  female  portion  was  coming  into  the  chapel  and  occupying  another  gallery 
behind  and  above,  quite  out  of  sight  of  the  male  prisoners ;  and  shortly  after  the  seats  were 
well  filled  with  a  numerous  audience.  Two  female  warders  sat  behind  the  female  priaonerBi 
and  two  male  warders  took  their  station  on  each  side  of  the  males.  The  congregation  was 
of  a  very  motley  character.  Most  of  the  females  were  very  plainly  dressed,  and  from  their 
appearance  and  manners,  we  could  easily  discern  they  belonged  to  the  lower  order  of  society. 
Many  of  them  had  coarse  masculine  features,  and  were  Englishwomen,  and  not  Irish 
cockneys.  We  did  not  see  a  single  pretty  girl  among  them,  like  some  of  those  we  found 
in  Holloway  Prison.  The  generality  of  the  boys  were  poor  and  ragged,  some  of  them  were 
very  keen  eyed  and  restless  in  their  manner ;  others  were  apparently  the  children  of  decent 
parents.  The  men  were  very  diflerent  in  their  character,  one  man  had  the  appearance  of  a 
swell,  with  his  auburn  whiskers  stylishly  cut,  and  his  locks  nicely  adjusted  over  his  fine 
forehead.  Another  man,  in  middle  life,  with  a  very  corpulent  paunch,  sat  before  him, 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  corduroy.  We  noticed  a  silver-headed  man  in  a  brown  overcoat,  who 
had  evidently  seen  better  days. 

While  we  were  penning  these  notes,  a  neighbouring  steeple  clock  struck  the  hour  in  deep 
solemn  tone,  which  was  followed  by  the  sharp  tinkling  sound  of  the  bell  within  the  prison. 
A  flush  of  interest  broke  over  the  countenances  of  the  prisoners  as  they  heard  the  hour 
announced.  Soon  after  the  chaplain  entered  in  his  white  gown,  followed  by  an  elderly 
warder,  who  officiated  as  clerk.  During  the  devotional  exercises,  most  of  the  prisonexB 
leaned  forward  on  the  seat  in  front  of  them.  The  corpulent  man,  in  corduroy,  bent  his 
head  almost  to  his  knees.     Some  of  the  little  boys  beneath  us  bent  forward,  with  their  hands 


\ 

\ 
I 


HOUSE  OP  DETENTION,  CLERKENWELL. 


617 


over  their  face,  while  others  sat  erect  with  a  composed  look,  or  were  looking  restlessly 
ahout  them.  A  little  fair-haired  boj,  of  about  twelve  years  of  age,  partieularly  caught  our 
attention.  As  we  looked  on  his  open,  frank,  winning  face,  we  were  sorry  to  find  him  among 
the  little  felons  around  him.  One  lad  sat  leering  to  another  beside  him,  in  great  indifference. 
Another  boy  sat  beside  him  dressed  in  a  dark  pinafore,  with  a  very  firm  yel  haggard  coun- 
tenance, who  looked  as  if  he  had  been  sadly  wronged  by  the  home  influences  which  had  sur- 
rounded him.  A  young  man  of  colour  sat  at  the  end  of  the  seat  beside  them,  with  a  very 
meek  expression  of  countenance,  alongside  of  a  little  pert  urchin  of  seven  years  of  age,  with  a 
peculiarly  restless  manner. 

As  we  glanced  at  the  grown-up  male  prisoners,  a  particularly  good-looking  young  man 
caught  our  attention,  with  a  finely  formed  thoughtful  countenance.  In  the  middle  of  the 
throng  we  saw  a  Pole,  a  sallow-looking  man  with  a  very  grim  aspect.  A  gentle  looking 
young  man,  a  pickpocket,  was  seated  by  the  side  of  a  calm,  determined  burglar,  evidently 
an  Irish  cockney.  While  a  few  prisoners  of  more  respectable  appearance  were  to  be  seen  in 
a  range  of  stalls  at  the  back  of  the  gallery,  reserved  for  the  better  order. 

During  the  service,  the  prisoners  appeared  to  become  more  absorbed  and  thoughtful. 
Many  of  them  leaned  over  on  the  seats  in  &ont,  and  some  looked  at  their  service  books. 

This  was  a  very  interesting  sight,  and  of  a  peculiar  character,  as  here  we  did  not  see 
them  masked  in  prison  dress,  but  in  their  own  clothing  and  marked  individuality,  as  they 
are  to  be  seen  in  the  public  streets. 

%*  The  Kitchen^ — ^We  visited  the  apartments  on  the  basement,  where  several  prisoners 
are  employed  as  carpenters,  blacksmiths,  and  painters,  connected  with  the  establishment, 
and  having  nothing  of  special  interest  to  record,  we  passed  on  to  the  kitchen,  which  is  about 
thirty-six  feet  by  twenty-soven.  The  flooring  is  of  stone,  and  the  roof  is  built  with  brick, 
supported  on  iron  girders  and  pillars.  There  are  two  tables  in  the  centre,  for  trays  and 
shining  tins,  along  with  two  dressers.  The  kitchen  is  provided  with  a  steam  apparatus,  and 
several  coppers,  one  for  soup,  another  for  gruel,  in  addition  to  a  large  steamer  for  preparing 
meat.  There  are  three  small  coppers— one  for  cocoa,  a  second  for  potatoes,  and  one  for 
making  beef-tea  for  the  infirmary.*  \ 

Behind  the  kitchen  is  a  scullery  for  washing  the  tins  and  trays ;  it  is  about  twenty-one 
feet  square,  and  contains  several  dressers,  a  sii^  for  washing,  and  a  copper  to  provide  hot 
water.    It  is  paved  .with  stone,  the  roof  being  also  supported  on  pillars. 


•  DAIIiY  DIET  LIST. 


Prisoners  conunitted  for  3  xnoaths 

and  upwards. 

Hale  and  Female  Adolts. 

Under  3  Months. 

Under  3  Months. 

Males  and  Females 

Male  Adults. 

Female  Adults. 

under  17  Years  of  Age. 

s 

o 

eat  when 
cooked. 

• 

1 

■ 
CO 

■i 
1 

■s 

eat  when 
cooked. 

i 

_  » 

C9 

• 

ft 

eat  when 
cooked. 

• 

p 
o 
ou 

• 

1 

• 

s 

eat  wbeji 
cooked. 

■ 

p. 

o 
CO 

OS. 

pints 

ox. 

OS. 

pints 

pints 

02. 

oz. 

pints 

OS. 

pints 

pints 

oz. 

oz. 

pints 

pints 

pints 

oz. 

Sunday    ... 

20 

6 

8 

•  ■  • 

20 

6 

•  •  • 

2 

16 

6 

•  •  • 

2 

16 

4> 

... 

2 

Monday  ... 

20 

•  fl  • 

•  •• 

li 

20 

... 

1 

2 

16 

«  •  • 

1 

2 

16 

*•• 

1 

2 

Tuesday  ... 

20 

6 

8 

... 

20 

6 

.•  • 

2 

16 

6 

... 

2 

16 

4 

•  •  t 

2 

Wednesday 

20 

... 

.  a  « 

li 

20 

•.« 

1 

2 

16 

... 

1 

2 

16 

•  •  • 

1 

2 

Thursday . . 

20 

1 

6 

8 

•  •  • 

T 

20 

6 

... 

2 

16 

6 

■  •  • 

2 

16 

4 

■  ■  ■ 

2 

Friday 

20 

■  •  ■ 

■  •  • 

u 

1 

20 

... 

1 

2 

16 

•  •  s 

1 

2 

16 

1.  • 

1 

2 

Saturday... 

20 

6 

8 

•  •• 

20 

*.. 

•  •• 

3 

16 

•  •  • 

•  •  • 

8 

16 

..« 

... 

3 

N.B. — ^Prisoners  not  receiving  such  allowance,  aro  allowed  to  provide  for  themselves ;  and  all  Frifionerfl 
arc  allowod  to  be  visited  by  their  friends,  from  12  till  2  daily,  Sundays  excepted. 
46 


618  THE  GREAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON.      • 

The  cook  and  his  assistants  commence  dutj  at  7.30  in  the  morning;  breakfast  is  sent 
np  at  8.30,  dinner  at  2,  and  supper  at  5.30,  ending  the  operations  for  the  day  at  6  o'clock. 
The  cook  in  his  ttxm,  along  wit^  the  warders,  officiates  on  night  duty. 

%*  Vmting  the  Cells. — "We  accompanied  the  chief  warder  to  one  of  the  cells  in  the  first 
division,  and  found  it  to  be  11  feet  long,  7  feet  wide,  and  8  feet  8  inches  high.  It  is 
ventilated  near  the  top  of  the  window,  and  through  another  iron  grating  near  the  fioor,  at 
the  side  of  the  door,  and  has  a  brick  roof,  and  flooring  of  asphalt.  Each  of  these  cells  ia 
^mished  with  a  small  table,  a  three-legged  stool,  a  stone  night  utensil,  an  iron  wash  basin, 
and  a  coir  hammock,  kept  strapped  during  the  day  on  two  hooks  in  the  wall,  and  has  three 
triangular  shelves  for  food,  utensils,  &c.  A  copy  of  the  rules  of  the  prison  is  suspended  on 
the  wall,  with  prayers  for  morning  and  evening.  The  door  has  a  trap  by  which  the  food  is 
transmitted,  in  the  interior  of  which  is  a  light  iron  screen,  through  which  the  prisoners  are 
permitted  on  certain  occasions  to  have  communication  with  their  Mends.  There  is  also  a 
small  circular  inspection  plate.  On  the  exterior  of  the  door  is  suspended  a  small  tin  case, 
like  an  envelope,  containing  the  prisoner's  card,  with  his  name,  offence,  &c.  The  oTdinory 
cells  over  the  various  corridors  are  of  the  same  dimensions,  and  similarly  furnished. 

The  chief  warder  informed  us  ''  that  in  the  first  and  second  division — ^A,  B,  C,  D,  £,  P, 
were  confined  parties  on  remand  and  for  trial  at  the  Middlesex  Sessions,  while  in  the  third 
division — G,  H,  I,  were  deserters,  persons  in  default  of  sureties,  and  cabmen  incarcerated 
under  the  Hackney  Carriage  Act. 

He  stated  the  A  division  contained  fifty-seven  cells,  exclusive  of  a  padded  one,  and  three 
special  cells  fitted  up  differently. 

We  entered  one  of  those  special  cells.  The  chief  warder  remarked,  ''  You  see  the  gas 
pipe  is  removed,  and  a  wire-screen  is  inserted  into  one  of  the  panes  of  the  window  for 
ventilation,  in  addition  to  the  apparatus  in  the  ordinary  cells.  The  light  is  admitted  through 
a  glass  pane  over  the  door,  out  of  the  prisoner's  reach.  These  cells  are  used  for  persons 
who  are  committed  for  having  attempted  to  commit  suicide. 

We  went  into  a  padded  cell,  where  a  prisoner  had  been  recently  confined,  who  had  been 
suffering  under  delirium  tremens  when  admitted  into  the  prison.  In  his  firenzy  he  had  torn 
the  wire-screen  over  the  door  of  his  cell,  broke  the  pane  of  glass,  and  wrenched  off  the  gas- 
pipes,  in  an  insane  attempt  to  get  out  of  his  cell.  This  cell  is  of  the  ordinary  size,  and  is 
fitted  up  with  coir,  packed  into  the  strongest  canvas,  attached  to  the  walls  like  panelling. 
There  is  a  wire-screen  over  the  window,  and  the  flooring  is  of  wood,  covered  with  a  thick 
stuficd  coir  mjittress,  for  the  safety  of  the.  prisoner,  when  in  his  violent  paroxysms.  On 
proceeding  into  one  of  the  special  cells  referred  to,  we  saw  the  wretched  inmate,  a  man  of 
about  fifty  years  of  age,  who  appeared  to  be  a  strong-built  labouring  man.  He  was  now  in  a 
convalescent  condition,  and  stated  to  us  **  he  had  recovered  his  spirits,  and  was  beginning  to 
feel  in  a  more  hopeful  and  bright  condition  of  mind." 

As  we  ascended  the  staircase  leading  up  into  one  of  the  galleries  of  this  corridor,  we 
found  a  stout  lad  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age,  dressed  in  a  blue  guernsey,  and  corduroy 
trowsers,  engaged  in  cleaning.  He  was  confined  for  threatening  his  moUier-in-law,  and 
appeared  to  be  robust  and  resolute.  The  chief  warder  remarked  to  us, ''  Some  of  the 
prisoners  vglunteer  to  assist  in  cleaning  the  prison ;  some  repair  shoes,  others  work  as  smiths, 
carpenters,  -or  painters.  We  cannot  compel  any  of  them  to  labour,  farther  than  to  clean 
their  cells." 

On  going  into  another  cell,  we  saw  the  poor  coloured  man  we  had  noticed  in  the  chapeU 
He  is  charged  with  a  petty  felony,  to  which  he  had  been  driven  by  extreme  want.  He 
stated  he  had  been  a  cook  on  board  a  vessel,  the  "Ann,"  of  London,  which  had  been  sold 
off,  and  he  was  thereby  cast  out  of  employment,  and  was  here  a  stranger  in  a  foreign  land* 
He  belonged  to  Halifax,  North  America.  His  clothes  were  in  a  wretched  state,  and  his 
shoes  were  hanging  in  shreds. 


HOUSE  OP  DETENTION,  CLBBKENWELL.  619 

In  an  adjoining  cell  we  found  a  sharp-featured,  pale-faoed  boy,  about  fouri^en  years  of 
age,  attired  in  a  drab  over-coat,  who  had  been  committed  the  previous  day  for  secreting 
himself  in  a  railway  train.  The  chief  warder,  on  entering,  remarked,  "  Tou  will  hear  his 
story ;  it  is  worth  the  while."  The  lad  stated — "  He  was  an  apprentice  at  a  spoon  and  fork 
manufactory  at  Sheffield.  His  master  was  cruel  to  him,  and  he  ran  away  from  his  employ- 
ment. His  father  and  mother  wished  to  compel  him  to  stay,  but  he  went  into  a  second  class 
carriage  on  the  Midland  Eailway,  and  proceeded  to  London.  On  being  asked  for  his  ticket 
by  the  guard,  he  pretended  he  had  lost  it,  and  was  allowed  to  proceed  to  the  metropolis, 
whereupon  he  was  taken  into  custody.  He  was  to  be  permitted  to  write  home  to  his  rela- 
tions to  acquaint  them  with  his  misfortune." 

On  visiting  another  cell  we  saw  a  profoundly-affecting  scene,  not  uncommon  in  our 
detentioDal  prisons.  We  found  a  fine-looking  genteel  boy,  with  beautiful  English  features. 
He  had  an  oval  face,  blue  eye,  rosy  cheek,  and  curly  hair.  He  was  about  twelve  years  of 
age,  dressed  in  a  dark  faded  overcoat,  and  had  been  charged  with  stealing  from  a  till.  He 
was  very  poorly  clad,  and  his  shoes  were  in  a  wretched  condition.  He  had  been  urged  to 
steal  by  two  young  convicted  thieves,  who  had  made  him  their  tool  in  the  business,  while 
they  had  adroitly  managed  to  escape.  Soon  after,  his  mother,  a  careworn,  poverty-stricken 
woman  of  about  thirty-five  years  of  age,  came  in,  and  was  in  extreme  anguish  when  she  saw 
her  little  boy.  He  burst  into  tears  at  the  sight  of  his  broken-hearted  mother,  but  soon 
appeared  to  forget  his  own  distress  in  her  presence.  The  poor  woman  was  convulsed 
with  agony  too  deep  for  tears,  and  looked  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She  pressed  her 
hands  to  her  throbbing  temples,  and  seized  hold  of  our  arm  to  prevent  herself  from  fiEiIling. 
She  was  led  away  to  a  seat  outside  the  door  of  the  cell,  and  was  sitting  there  in  silent 
anguish  as  we  passed  along  the  gallery. 

"We  proceeded  with  the  chief  warder  to  the  central  corridor,  termed  the  second  division 
of  the  male  prison,  containing  about  seventy  cells.  He  observed,  '*  We  have  six  strong  cells 
for  prisoners  who  have  attempted  to  escape  from  prison,  or  are  otherwise  desperate  characters." 
On  being  shown  into  one  of  them,  we  found  that  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  iron-firamed 
window  there  were  iron  bars  on  the  exterior,  and  the  door  was  plated  in  the  interior  with 
iron.  On  looking  into  several  of  the  cells  as  we  passed  along,  we  did  not  see  anything  worthy 
of  special  notice. 

On  visiting  the  corridor  of  the  third  division  we  got  a  farther  glimpse  into  the  romance 
of  our  London  prisons,  where  fact  frequently  transcends  the  singular  and  startling  recitals 
of  fiction.  We  went  into  a  cell  where  we  found  an  old  bald-headed  man,  with  silver  hair, 
bending  on  his  seat,  apparently  absorbed  in  some  deep  and  consuming  sorrow.  He  was 
wrinkled  and  careworn,  and  had  a  long  thin  face,  with  a  dreamy  imbecility  in  his  eye, 
occasionally  kindling  into  sudden  flashes  of  energy.  He  was  dressed  in  a  shabby  worn 
greatcoat  with  a  velvet  collar,  a  dark  spotted  vest,  and  corduroy  trowsers.  He  told  U3 
he  was  a  native  of  Colchester,  in  Essex,  and  had  loved  a  woman  about  forty  years  ago,  but 
the  correspondence  between  them  had  been  broken  off.  It  seems  some  wags  in  Colchester, 
who  knew  the  weakness  of  the  frail  old  man,  told  him,  by  way  of  a  practical  joke,  that  his 
Dnlcinea  resided  in  Londoui  in  a  certain  locality.  He  came  to  London  with  £17  in  his 
pocket,  on  a  sentimental  journey  to  see  her.  He  endeavoured  to  force  himself  into  a  house 
to  see  the  object  of  his  affections,  against  the  wish  of  the  inmates,  and  was  given  into  the 
hands  of  the  police.  He  stated  he  was  a  farmer  in  comfortable  circumstances,  and  that  his 
brother  was  also  a  large  farmer  residing  near  Colchester. 

As  we  passed  along  one  of  the  galleries  we  saw  a  remarkably  fine-looking  old  man, 
who  had  been  a  soldier  in  the  Ghrenadier  Ghiards,  confined  for  assaulting  his  wife.  He  is  in 
custody  for  six  months,  as  he  could  not  find  security  for  his  better  behaviour.  He  was 
assisting  one  of  the  warders. 

In  another  ceU  we  observed  a  young  Irish  lad,  of  about  nineteen  years  of  age,  in  a  very 


620  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

shabby  tattered  dress,  like  a  wretched  beggar.  He  told  us  he  was  a  gunner  in  the  Artillery, 
but  had  for  a  time  deserted,  and  been  labouring  as  a  cooper  in  the  metropolis.  At  last 
he  got  wearied  of  it  and  gave  himself  up  as  a  deserter  to  return  to  his  former  military  ser- 
vice. JGEow  a  rnsm  could  exchange  the  comfortable  dress  of  an  artilleryman  and  his  cleanly 
habits,  for  a  life  of  squalor  and  rags,  is  one  of  those  enigmas  which  cannot  be  easily  ex- 
plained even  by  those  who  know  the  wild  freedom  of  low  life  in  London !  On  a  subsequent 
day  we  saw  two  fin^-looking  young  artillerymen  come  to  the  prison  to  escort  their  prodigal 
companion  back  to  his  old  quarters. 

In  an  adjoining  cell  we  found  a  Polish  refugee,  a  stem-looking  man,  beneath  the  middle 
size,  whom  we  had  particularly  observed  in  the  chapel.  He  was  a  soldier  in  the  Polish 
service  up  to  the  year  1830,  and  had  come  to  Portsmouth  with  a  large  detachment  of  exiles. 
He  now  works  as  a  shoemaker.  He  is  in  custody  for  trying  to  force  his  way  into  the  pre- 
sence of  the  secretary  of  the  Polish  Eefugee  Association. 

Li  another  cell,  through  the  inspection  plate,  we  saw  rather  a  notable  character,  in  his 
way.  We  had,  in  our  boyhood,  heard  him  address  a  Scotch  constituency,  as  a  candidate  for 
representation  of  the  Montrose  Burghs.  He  was  then  a  handsome  young  man,  who  had  just 
written  a  book  (little  known)  on  the  French  Eevolution ;  and  no  doubt  aspired  to  great  future 
eminence.  Even  then  he  appeared  to  be  rather  a  crochetty  individual,  and  to  be  wanting  in 
solid  judgment.  But  how  is  the  picture  changed  now  ?  See  him  here  in  his  cell,  a  bbghtcd 
being,  attired  in  a  shabby  dark  dress,  his  countenance  the  picture  of  morbid  melancholy  I 
The  chief  warder  observed — *'  He  was  detained  here  twelve  months  for  threatening  a  Scotch 
Member  of  Parliament.  At  the  expiry  of  that  time,  being  unable  to  find  bail  for  his  fdture 
conduct,  he  has  been  subjected  to  other  twelve  months'  imprisonment." 

%*  Exercising  Grounds, — ^Before  leaving  the  male  prison  we  visited  the  various  exer- 
cising grounds.  Two  of  them  are  situated  at  the  back  of  the  prison,  on  each  side  of  the 
central  wing,  which  is  at  right  angles  to  the  other  two  wings  of  the  male  branch  of  the 
establishment.  The  prisoners  we  saw  here  consisted  of  persons  committed  for  examination 
and  for  trial ;  but  as  we  gave  a  description  of  their  general  appearance  during  the  chapel 
service,  we  need  not  enter  into  any  farther  detail  here.  They  marched  around  their  circles, 
similar  to  the  other  prisons,  under  the  supervision  of  several  warders.  A  smart  young  man, 
dressed  as  a  sailor,  was  pointed  out  to  us  as  a  beggar.  The  chief  warder  informed  us  he  had 
burned  his  arm  with  caustic,  or  other  chemical  ingredient,  to  create  a  sore  in  order  to  excite 
the  compassion  of  the  public,  and  had  thereby  effectually  disabled  himself  in  a  more  serious 
manner  than  he  had  intended.  We  observed  the  corpulent  man  in  corduroy  going  round 
an  inner  circle  with  the  little  boys.  He  was  an  hostler  at  a  public  house,  and  had  infbted 
himself  with  large  potations  of  porter.    He  was  very  unwieldy  in  his  movements. 

Wo  went  into  the  smaller  exercising  ground  for  prisoners  for  want  of  sureties,  committed 
as  deserters,  or  confined  xmder  the  Hackney  Carriage  Act.  We  found  a  cluster  of  cabmen  of  a 
poorer  set  walking  in  company  in  the  square  enclosure ;  and  three  young  deserters  generally 
kept  together.  We  saw  the  old  romantic  lover  in  the  brown  overcoat,  walking  quietly,  and 
with  melancholy  air,  apparently  engrossed  with  his  own  thoughts.  The  Polish  refugee, 
equipped  in  a  cap  and  dark  coat,  walked  solitary,  looking  keenly  around  him  at  his  com- 
panions in  tribulation ;  and  the  would-be  M.P.,  already  referred  to,  promenaded  with  his 
hands  in  his  trowsers  pockets.  He  was  attired  in  a  dark  frockcoat  and  worm  muffler,  and 
was  having  a  qxiiet  interview  with  the  tall  old  Grenadier  guardsman. 

To  look  on  the  plain  exterior  of  this  motley  group,  who  could  dream  of  the  romantic  events, 
and  eventful  changes  of  their  lives,  so  little  apparent  to  the  superficial  eye ! 


HOUSE  OF  DETENTION,  CLEEKENWELL.  621 

The  Female  Prison. 

The  femalo  prison  extends  on  each  sido  of  the  front  of  the  prison  as  seen  in  the  engrav- 
ing given-  in  an  earlier  part  of  this  work,  the  two  wings  being  conneeted  together,  and 
forming  a  continuous  line  in  the  upper  galleries,  over  the  entrance  hall  of  the  central  main 
building.  We  entered  the  female  prison  by  a  door  on  the  left  hand,  opposite  to  the  clerk's 
oi&cc,  and  were  introduced  to  the  matron  of  the  establishment,  who  desired  an  experienced 
femalo  officer  to  conduct  us  over  the  interior. 

%*  Reception  Ward, — ^Ve  passed  down  to  the  basement  by  a  staircase,  leading  to  the 
reception  hall.  There  are  ten  reception  cells,  five  on  one  side  .of  the  ward,  and  five  on  the 
other,  alongside  of  each  other.  They  are  about  the  same  dimensions  as  those  on  the  base- 
ment of  the  male  prison,  and  are  furnished  with  a  water-closet  in  one  comer,  and  a  seat  in 
another.  There  is  a  handle  inside  communicating  with  a  signal  plate  outside  the  cell.  A 
current  of  fresh  air  is  admitted  through  a  ventilating  apparatus  near  the  top  of  the  cell 
beside  the  window. 

On  the  other  side  of  this  ward  there  are  four  bath-rooms,  each  containing  a  composition 
bath  about  five  feet  nine  inches  long,  two  feet  three  inches  wide,  and  two  feet  four  inches 
deep,  with  a  footboard.  Those  rooms  in  the  interior  of  the  ward  are  about  the  size  of  an. 
ordinary  cell,  but  those  towards  the  exterior  are  only  three  feet  wide,  and  about  the  size  of 
the  reception  cells.  There  is  an  additional  zinc  bath.  Each  bath  is  supplied  with  hot  and 
cold  water  by  a  cistern  heated  by  u  furnace  at  the  outer  extremity  of  the  reception  ward. 
Adjoining  the  latter  bath  is  a  room  with  an  asphalt  floor,  where  prisoners  are  searched. 

Contiguous  to  these  the^  are  two  dark  punishment  cells  furnished  simply  with  an  iron 
bedstead.  The  female  warder  observed  to  us,  ''We  seldom  have  any  female  prisoners 
confined  here." 

On  the  basement  there  is  a  small  store.  We  observed  two  large  presses  on  one  side  of 
the  room,  one  of  them  containing  the  vrinter,  and  the  other  the  snmmer  clothing  of  the 
prisoners,  which  is  of  a  lighter  description.  The  female  prisoners*  clothing  consists  of  a 
woollen  Unsey  jacket  and  skirt,  a  fiannel  petticoat,  and  chemise,  blue  worsted  stockings,  a 
checked  cotton  handkerchief  for  the  neck,  worn  underneath  the  jacket^  and  a  pair  of  leather 
shoes.    ''  In  summer,"  added  the  warder,  ''  the  outer  dress  is  of  cotton  instead  of  woollen.*' 

^^  The  Laundry. — It  is  situated  on  the  basement  in  firont  of  the  governor's  house,  in. 
tho  eastern  wing  of  the  female  prison.  It  contains  a  largo  copper  with  taps  to  admit  cold 
water,  and  dischai^  hot  water.  There  are  five  boxes  with  two  washing  troughs  in  each, 
supplying  hot  and  cold  water,  with  a  footboard  in  front,  and  in  the  farther  extremity  of  this 
apartment  are  seven  drying-horses  similar  to  those  we  found  in  Newgate  female  prison.  The 
laundry  is  about  thirty-three  feet  long  and  thirteen  feet  wide.  In  an  adjoining  room  there 
is  a  mangle,  with  a  dresser  for  folding  the  clothes.  Bundles  of  garments  and  bedding  were 
piled  on  tho  floor. 

There  is  also  a  wringing  machine,  as  in  the  laundries  at  Wandsworth  and  Newgate. 
Another  apartment  is  contiguous,  in  which  the  clothes  are  ironed  and  folded,  containing  a 
stove  for  heating  the  irons.  The  warder  informed  us,  ''  There  are  generally  six  prisoners 
employed  here  daily."  At  the  time  of  our  visit  the  laundry  was  deserted,  and  not  a  single 
prisoner  was  to  be  seen. 

%♦  The  Corridor f  etc. — The  two  wings  of  the  female  prison,  although  apparently  divided 
by  the  main  building  on  the  exterior,  form  one  long  corridor  in  the  interior.  There  is  a  slate 


C22  THE  GBEAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 

platfonn,  about  sixty  feet  wide,  stretching  across  the  fm^t  gallery  of  the  corridor  from  the  fe- 
male warders'  dressing-room  to  two  doors  leading  upby  two  staircases  to  the  gallery  in  thechapel» 
where  the  female  prisoners  are  congregated.  Another  slate  platform  across  the  gallery  above 
is  only  nine  feet  wide.  On  the  lower  gallery  there  is  a  large  hall  thirty  feet  long  and  twenty- 
one  feet  wide,  where  the  bail  prisoners  exercise,  and  where  the  other  prisoners  occasionally 
walk  in  wet  weather.     It  has  a  lofty  ceiling,  and  the  floor  is  coyered  with  coir  matting. 

The  female  warder  informed  us,  ''  The  female  branch  of  the  prison  is  divided  into  six 
wards,  A,  B,  C,  D,  E,  7,  in  addition  to  ten  reception  cells.    Amounting  in  all  to  112  cells." 

On  entering  one  of  the  cells  in  the  corridor,  we  found  it  to  be  eleven  feet  five  inches 
long,  six  feet  eleven  inches  wide,  eight  feet  at  the  bottom,  and  eight  feet  ten  inches  at  the 
top  of  the  arch.     It  is  furnished  sinular  to  those  in  the  male  prison. 

On  going  round  several  of  the  cells,  we  did  not  find  any  case  of  particular  interest.  The 
most  of  the  prisoners  were  conflned  iot  common  offences. 

We  visited  the  exercising  ground  at  the  back  of  the  left  wing,  and  adjoining  the  exer- 
cising ground  for  male  prisoners  in  default  of  sureties,  cabmen  and  deserters.  It  is  ninety- 
three  feet  long  and  thirty-nine  feet  wide,  and  is  laid  with  pavement. 

We  were  furnished,  on  one  of  the  days  of  our  visit,  with  the  following  statement  of  the 
prisoners  then  conflned  in  the  male  and  female  branches  of  the  prison : 


Males        .        •        :        .        •    166        Children 
Temales    .        .        .        .        .70 


Total    •        .        .    236  Total         .        .  4 

For  Sessions—  ^  Males.  Fmalss. 

Trial  .        .        .        .        .39  Trials 21 

Bemands 99  Bemands    •        •        •        •        .  32 

Bails  .        ....    19  Bails         .....  17 

Cabmen     .        •        •        •        •      6 

Deserters 3 


Total  .        «        •        .166  Toted    .        .        «  70 

niSCHABOSp. 

In  Sessions—                                       Males,  Fsmaht. 

Bemands    •        •'        •        ,        •    24        «        • 4 

Bails 17  ......  1 

Cabmen      .         •        .        •        •      2 
Deserters  .....— 

Total    .        •        .48  Total            .        .  5 

Males 123        Females 65 


GENERAL  STATISTICS  OJP  CLERKENWELL  DETENTIONAL  PRISON 

Foa  THB  YxAa  SKDura  Seftembes  1860. 


KUMBEB  OF  FBISOBBBS. 

Males.    Females. 
For  trial  at  Asskes  or  Sessions 1170 . . .   439 

Siimmai^  conTictions —   ...     — 

Want  of  sureties 577...    168 

Remanded  and  discharged 3595  . . .  1534 

Mutiny  Act 303...     '— 


DSaBEE  OT  nfSTBUCTION. 

MaIcs.    FcA-Jn. 
Neither  read  nor  write  1281...  Cli7 

Read,  or  read  and  write  imperfectly  3414 ...  1301 

Read  and  write  well  507...  113 

Superior  instruction  CD...     oi) 

Instruction  not  ascertained  — ...     — 


Totalwmipitments 6645 ...2141  Total    531S...2141 


» n 


HORSEMONGER  LANE  JAIL. 


623 


PBEVIOVUiT  COtfMITTBD  TO  AITY  PBISOIT. 

Males.  Females. 

Once no  ...     294 

Twice  252  ...     105 

Thrioe ICH  ...      12 

Fouriimes  55  ...       65 

Eive  times   94  ...      50 

Seven  times,  and  abore  five  97  ...      46 

Ten  times,  and  above  seven  —  ...      — 

Above  ten  times ,      —  ...      — 

1321  ...    631 


AQB  AJSTD  8BX. 


Males.    Females. 


Under  twelve  years  .. 
Twelve  to  sixteen  . . . . 
Sixteen  to  twenty-one. 
Twenty-one  to  thirty . 

Thirty  to  forty    

Forty  to  fifty  

Fifty  to  sixty  

Sixty  and  above 

Age  not  ascertained    . 


185 

736 

1210 

1558 

849 

547 

184 

73 


27 
156 
450 
684 
439 
269 
91 
25 


Total 


5842     ...  2141 


OAFACITT  AND  8TATB  OB  THB  FBI80K. 

Males.    Females. 
Constraoted  to  contain 224    ...     100 

Greatest  number  at  one  time  ....    207    ...      99 

Daily  average  in  the  year  208 


CASBS  OF  8ICENBSS. 

Males.  Females. 

Greatest  number  at  one  time. .....        4  ...  5 

Deaths 1  ...  - 

Infirmary  cases  128  ...  48 

Slight  indisposition —  ...  — 

Insanity   —  .,,  2 


Total 


133 


65 


FUNISHMBBTS  OF  OFFBNCBS  IN  FBISOK. 

Males.    Females, 


Whipping    ,, 

Irons  or  handoufijs .*- 

Solitary  or  dark  cells 6 

Stoppage  of  diet 55 

Other  punishments — 


Total. 


60 


1 
8 


9 


BSTABLISHHENT  OF  0FFICBB8. 


Governor  or  deputy  , 

Chaplain 1 

Surgeon  ,.,  1 

Clerk  or  schoolmaster 1 

Schoolmistress    -» 

Upper  warders  matron  11 

Under  warders    , 7 

Other  Bub-offibers   -— 


Males.    Females. 
2    ...        - 


Totofl 


28 


6 
6 


12 


T  iii.— o     . 

EOBSEMONaSS  LANE  JAIL.^ 

"We  approach  the  Surrey  Detentional  Prison  by  a  narrow  lane,  leading  from  the  bustling 
thoronghfare  of  Stone's-end.  It  is  inclosed  within  a  dingy  brick  wall,  which  almost  screens 
it  from  the  public  eye.  We  enter  the  gateway  of  the  flat-roofed  building  at  the  entrance  of 
the  prison,  on  one  side  of  which  is  the  governor's  oflGlce,  and  an  apartment  occupied  by  the 
gate- warder,  and  on  the  other  is  a  staircase  leading  up  to  a  gloomy  chamber,  containing  tho 
scaffold  on  which  many  a  wretched  criminal  has  been  consigned  to  public  execution. 
Emerging  from  the  gateway,  the  governor's  house,  a  three-storied  building,  stands  right  in 
front  of  us,  on  the  other  side  of  the  courtyard,  having  a  wing  of  the  debtors'  prison  on  each  side, 
all  of  them  built  of  brick.  We  observed  several  officers  of  the  prison  in  their  blue  uniforms, 
with  keys  depending  from  their  dark  polished  belts.  The  right  wing  of  the  prison  contains 
sheriffs'  debtors,,  who  maintain  themselves,  or  are  supported  by  their  relatives  and  friends  j 

*  The  Surrey  County  Jail,  comm.nly  caUed  Horsemonger  Lono  Jail,  is  situate  in  tho  Parish  of  St 
Mary's,  Nowiogton,  in  the  Parliamentary  Borough  of  Lambeth,  and  in  tho  East  Half  Hundred  of  Brixton,  in 
tho  said  County. 


624  THE  GEEAT  WORLD  OF  LONDON, 

V 

the  left  wing  is  set  apart  for  coanty  court  debtors  and  those  slierifis'  debtors  who  are 
unable  to  do  so.  In  front  of  each  there  is  a  portion  of  ground,  seventy-four  feet  by  fourteen, 
laid  with  pavement,  and  covered  with  a  low,  flat,  u:on  roof,  where  the  debtors  are  frequently 
seen  promenading  or  loitering  beside  the  lofty  iron  railings  which  fence  it,  surmounted  by 
formidable  iron  spikes.  In  the  covered  walk,  before  the  right  wing,  the  debtors  had  been 
evidently  in  better  pecuniary  circumstances,  to  judge  from  their  exterior.  Some  of  them 
looked  like  tradesmen,  who  had  become  embarrassed  in  their  means.  Others  were  like  gay 
men  about  town,  with  moustache  and  fashionable  dress,  who  also  had  once  seen  better  days. 

On  the  other  side,  the  debtors  appeared  to  belong  generally  to  a  poorer  class  of  society, 
such  as  labourers,  poor  tradesmen,  and  others.  Many  of  the  debtors,  particularly  on  the 
wing  to  the  right,  seemed  to  have  the  easy  air  of  strangers  loitering  at  a  watering-place. 

The  court-yard  is  flanked  on  the  left  hand  by  the  infirmary,  a  detached  building,  contain- 
ing wards  for  debtors  and  criminals ;  and  is  bounded  on  the  right  by  the  sessions'  house,  the 
front  of  which  faces  Newington  Causeway. 

There  is  a  carriage  drive  round  the  right  wing  of  the  debtors'  prison  to  the  criminal 
prison,  the  wings  of  which  are  nearly  in  the  form  of  a  hollow  square  behind  it.  There  is  a 
similar  drive  on  the  left  side,  leading  past  the  infirmary  to  the  female  wards- 

We  enter  an  archway,  opposite  the  sessions-house,  leading  to  the  male  criminal  prison,  a 
large  massive  gate,  fenced  on  the  top  with  iron  bars.  On  our  left  hand  is  a  small  room, 
occupied  as  on  office  by  the  chief  warder,  and  on  our  right  is  a  door  leading  into  the  recep- 
tion ward. 

%*  Beeeptton  Ward. — "We  were  introduced  to  the  reception  warder,  who  showed  us  over 
his  department.  The  reception  ceUs  are  situated  behind  the  right  wing  of  the  debtors' 
prison,  and  are  parallel  to  it,  being  separated  by  a  narrow  court.  On  entering  one  of  them 
we  found  it  to  be  eleven  feet  by  seven  feet'  four  inches,  and  nine  feet  two  inches  at  the 
bottom,  and  ten  feet  at  the  top  of  the  arch.  It  is  lighted  by  a  square  window,  four  feet  long 
and  two  febt  high.  There  are  two  shelves,  in  an  inner  comer,  containing  a  tin  can,  a  salt- 
cellar, a  spoon,  towel,  comb,  and  brush.  The  farniture  further  consists  of  a  small  deal  table 
and  a  small  stool.  In  the  comer  opposite  there  is  a  basin,  supplied  with  plenty  of  water,  at 
the  pleasure  of  the  prisoner,  together  with  a  piece  of  soap.  The  hammock  is  rolled  up  and 
attached  to  a  hook  on  the  side  of  the  cell.  The  gas-jet  has  an  iron  cover  to  protect  it. 
Each  cell  is  floored  with  wood,  and  the  walls  are  carefully  whitewashed.  A  copy  of  the 
rules  and  regulations  of  the  prison  is  suspended  for  the  use  of  the  prisoner,  with  a  prayer 
for  morning  and  another  for  evening,  together  with  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Notice  is  also  given 
that  complaints  relative  to  the  conduct  of  any  of  the  officers  may  be  made  by  the  prisoner  to 
the  governor,  or  to  any  magistrate  visiting  the  gaol.  There  is  a  handle  in  the  cell  commu- 
nicating with  the  gong  in  the  corridor,  as  in  other  prisons. 

The  cell  is  ventilated  by  an  iron  grating,  near  the  floor,  beside  the  door,  through  which  a 
current  of  heated  air  is  admitted.  It  ascends  through  another  iron  grating  at  the  roof  of  the 
cell,  communicating  with  the  air-shaft  on  the  top  of  the  building.  There  is  also  a  flap  in  the 
window  for  the  admission  of  fresh  air. 

There  are  eight  reception  cells,  all  of  them  roofed  with  brick.  The  doors  are,  each  of 
them,  provided  with  a  circular  inspection  plate,  and  a  trap  for  introducing  food,  and  also  a 
smaller  trap,  with  wire  screen,  through  which  the  prisoner  may  have  an  interview  with  his 
friends.  The  corridor  in  the  reception  ward  has  not  a  groined  roof,  like  the  other  corridors, 
but  is  spanned  with  a  round  arch.    It  is  situated  on  our  left  hand,  as  we  enter  the  prison. 

We  enter  the  Bath-room,  which  is  about  eighteen  feet  by  eighteen.  This  apartment  is  on 
our  right  hand  as  we  enter  the  male  prison,  and  has  a  groined  roof,  supported  in  the  centre 
by  strong  stone  pillars,  three  feet  square.  There  is  an  iron  grating  over  hot-air  pipes,  ex- 
tending across  the  room,  beside  the  door,  for  the  puxpose  of  warmth  and  ventilation.    Here 

irrO 


IXTXBIOS  OS  HOiaUfONaBK  UHX  JAIL. 


j^yiiiM 


H  OP  HOBSSKONaBK  UNB  JUL. 
3.  BqW  Airing  Ttfd,  t     M.  ClmvBL 

p!  H«'i  Airing  Tu«. 


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V;c?^^S^%£mS 


626  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON 

we  found  two  baths,  five  feet  two  inches  long,  two  feet  wide,  and  two  feet  deep,  with 
Beparato  doors.  They  are  supplied  with  hot  and  cold  water.  There  are  standard  measures 
here  for  ascertaining  the  height  and  weight  of  the  prisoners,  with  a  supply  of  prison  clothing 
for  their  use.  The  reception  warder  stated,  "  When  a  prisoner  is  admitted  here,  and  has  not 
a  proper  suit  of  clothes,  he  is  supplied  with  prison  clothing,  consisting  of  a  blue  vest,  jacket, 
and  trowsers,  with  shirt  and  stockings,  in  addition,  should  he  require  them.  He  is  also 
furnished  with  two  blankets,  a  pair  of  sheets,  and  a  rug,  as  beddiag.*' 

There  is  a  cistern  here  to  supply  the  baths  with  hot  water,  with  a  furnace  beneath.  An 
assortment  of  leg  irons  is  suspended  on  the  Wall.  The  reoiqption  warder  conducted  us  into 
a  small  apartment  on  the  basement,  to  which  we  descend  by  a  flight  of  steps.  Here  there  is 
a  machine,  patented  by  Jeakes,  Great  Eussell  Street,  Bloomsbury,  to  destroy  vermin.  We 
saw  several  bundles  of  clothes  in  process  of  fumigation. 

\*  The  EiUhen,  e^<?.— Wo  went  to  the  kitchen,  which  is  about  twenty-seven  feet  square^ 
and  is  provided  with  four  boUers  and  a  large  dresser.  There  la  a  large  table  in  the  centre, 
for  cutting  up  the  meat,  etc.,  and  to  contain  the  trays.  The  kitchen  is  floored  with  stone,  and 
lighted  by  a  skylight.  We  noticed  a  fbod  oaniage,  laden  with  trays  of  soup,  meat,  and 
potatoes,  ready  to  be  served  up  for  the  prisoners'  dinner.  The  soup  was  of  excellent  quality. 
In  one  of  the  large  boilers  the  soup  had  been  made  ready.  In  another  the  butchermeat  was 
prepared,  and  in  a  third  the  gjruel  was  cooked  for  supper. 

A  small  room  off  the  kitchen  is  used  as  the  warder's  mess-room  and  scullery.  It  is  fur- 
nished with  a  dresser,  washing-trough,  table,  and  forms,  and  is  well  lighted  and  ventilated. 

On  proceeding  into  the  bread-room  we  found  a  great  quantity  of  small  loaves  arranged 
on  shelves  around  the  room,  six  ounces  and  eight  ounces  in  weight — ^the  one  for  male  and 
the  other  for  female  prisoners. 

While  we  were  present,  a  large  quantity  was  brought  into  the  prison  by  a  baker,  sent  by 
the  tradesman  who  contracts  to  supply  the  prison.  A  quantity  of  fresh  butchermeat  was 
hunnr  on  hooks  around  the  wall. 

The  food  trays  are  conveyed  to  the  different  corridors  of  the  male  prison  by  means  of  a 
hoisting  machine. 

The  Engineer, — ^Wc  accompanied  the  engineer  into  a  small  apparatus-room  at  the  extreme 
corner  of  the  A  division,  on  the  right  hand,  provided  with  Haden  and  Son's  ventilating 
apparatus.  There  is  a  large  boiler  above  the  furnace,  where  water  is  heated  and  conveyed 
to  a  tank  at  the  top  of  the  prison.  It  descends  through  pipes,  and  travels  along  the  corridors 
beneath  the  flagstones,  and  afterwards  returns  to  the  boiler  to  be  re-heated.  Above  the 
furnace  there  are  two  iron  cases,  about  six  feet  by  four,  alongside  of  each  other.  The  fire, 
after  operating  in  the  furnace,  passes  into  the  first  case,  then  into  the  second,  and  £rom  thence 
ascends  up  the  chimney.  This  generates  an  amount  of  heated  air,  which  would  be  lost  if 
the  cases  were  not  applied,  as  otherwise  it  would  go  directly  up  the  chimney.  The  air  con- 
densed by  these  cases  passes  out  into  corridor  A  through  a  square  grating  over  the  door 
of  the  furnace-room,  and  through  two  other  gratings  about  two  feet  square. 

There  is  another  apparatus-room  of  the  same  kind  at  the  opposite  side  of  corridor  A. 

The  engineer  showed  us  into  a  cell  in  corridor  A,  and  pointed  out  to  us  an  iron  grating 
for  yentUatiou  near  the  door.  He  observed  "  this  is  for  warming  the  cell  during  winter, 
and  for  ventilation  in  summer."  The  cells  are  warmed  by  hot- water  pipes  that  pass  round 
the  basement,  and  are  connected  with  the  cistern  already  referred  to  at  the  roof  of  the 
prison.  He  pointed  out  to  us  another  grating  on  the  groined  roof  of  the  cell,  by  which  the 
vitiated  air  is  extracted.  We  accompanied  him  to  the  roof  of  the  prison,  and  saw  the  cistern 
where  the  heated  water  ascends  fronr  the  boiler  below,  and  descends  into  the  basement 
iis  before  stated.  He  showed  us  the  ventilating  shaft,  adjoining  which  two  horizontal 
extraction  flues  of  triangular  shape  arc  connected.     These  horizontal  flues  are  connected 


HOESEMONaER  LANE  JAIL.  627 

with  the  ventilating  flues  of  the  prison.  They  are  about  four  feet  in  diameter  at  the  base, 
and  two  feet  six  inches  at  the  apex.  In  this  shaft  is  a  ventilating  apparatus,  five  feet  six 
inches  by  two  feet  six  inches.  The  shaft  is  about  seven  feet  square,  covered  with  a  slate 
roof  supported  on  iron  ribs.  It  is  situated  at  the  extreme  corner  on  the  left  hand,  and  over- 
tops the  rest  of  the  building.     There  is  a  similar  one  at  the  right  hand  comer. 

We  followed  the  engineer  through  a  small  square  opening,  and  mounted  on  the  roof  of 
the  prison,  where  we  had  a  commanding  view  of  the  various  exercising  grounds  in  the 
interior,  as  well  as  of  the  widely  extended  buildings  of  the  great  metropolis,  with  its  beetling 
dome0  and  spires.  The  engineer  called  dUr  attention  to  four  tanks  on  the  roof  of  the 
prison  into  which  the  water  is  pumped.  ^ 

On  descending  £rom  the  roof  of  the  prison,  and  passing  along  corridor  A,  we  observed 
fifteen  circular  iron  gratings,,  about  fifteen  inches  in  diameter,  for  the  purpose  of  admitting 
heated  air  into  the  corridors  from  the  pipes  below. 

*#*  Chapeh — ^We  proceeded  to  the  chapel,  which  is  situated  at  the  back  of  the 
prison,  as  seen  ii^  the  ground  plan.  It  is  about  thirty-nine  feet  wide,  and  thirty-four  feet 
loug.  The  pulpit  is  in  an  elevated  position  to  the  right,  covered  with  red  cloth,  and 
beneath  is  a  seat  for  the  clerk.  On  the  left  is  a  lofty  seat  for  the  Governor,  which  gives 
him  a  commanding  view  of  the  auditory.  Between  the  pulpit  and  the  Governor's  pew  there 
is  a  communion-table,  also  covered  with  red  cloth,  the  space  within  the  inclosure  around  it 
being  carpeted.  On  the  wall  over  against  it  are  inscribed  the  Ten  Commandments,  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  Creed. 

There  are  four  long  seats  in  front  of  the  pulpit,  separated  by  a  wooden  partition  six  feet 
in  height,  occupied  by  the  debtors  during  the  service.  A  number  of  seats  in  the  area  behind 
are  set  apart  for  misdemeanants  and  felons  committed  for  re-examination  or  for  trial,  while 
the  convicted  prisoners  sit  in  elevated  separate  boxes  behind.  ^  The  female  prisoners  occupy 
the  gallery  above,  out  of  sight  of  the  males  in  the  area  beneath. 

The  debtors  generally  enter  the  chapel  first,  and  proceed  to  their  seats  in  the  interior. 
The  prisoners  under  remand,  etc.,  then  advance  to  their  seats  in  the  centre,  and  the  convicts 
enter  last.    Meantime  the  females  are  assembling  in  the  gallery  above. 

The  chapel  service  commences  at  half-past  nine  o'clock.  On  Sundays  there  are  two  ser- 
vices, one  in  the  morning  at  half-past  nine,  and  the  other  in  the  afternoon  at  two  o'clock. 

*#*  JExerming  Oraunds, — There  are  three  paved  exercising  grounds  within  the  hollow 
square  of  Horsemonger  Lane  Criminal  Gaol.  The  larger  one  for  the  adult  males  is  about 
one  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  square,  that  of  the  juveniles  is  sixty  feet  by  forty-two,  and 
the  female  exercising  ground  is  seventy-five  feet  by  sixty,  all  situated,  as  seen  in  the  ground 
plan.  We  observed  a  considerable  number  of  prisoners  airing  in  the  adult  yard,  consisting 
of  common  felons  and  ragged  mendicants  and  others,  with  three  soldiers,  charged  with 
burglary,  belonging  to  cavalry  and  infantry  regiments.  The  general  appearance  of  the  greater 
number  was  very  similar  to  those  we  saw  in  Clerkenwell  Prison.  They  were  for  the  most 
part  in  their  own  garb ;  some  of  them  walked  with  the  haughty  air  of  men  who  had  been 
wronged  by  being  unjustly  suspected  of  crime  ;  others  had  a  more  modest  demeanour,  while 
some^of  the  poor  cadgers  in  their  rags  sneaked  along  with  downcast  eye.  One  of  the  warders 
observed  to  us,  '*  These  .prisoners  were  mostly  charged  with  felonies,  and  common  offences." 

In  the  Juvenile  Exercising  Yard  we  found  a  small  party  of  boys  exercising,  some  of 
them  charged  with  petty  felonies,  others  with  picking  pockets,  and  one  poor  fair-haired  lad 
with  begging.     He  was  dressed  in  a  blue-prison  misdemeanant's  garb. 

\*  VisUing  the  Cells, — We  found  the  corridors  in  Horsemonger  Lane  Jail  to  be  very 
difierent  from  those  in  the  other  prisons.    Here  we  had  no  lofty  roof,  and  no  airy  galleries. 


628  THE  GEEAT  WOELD  OF  LONDON. 

but  dingy  low-set  corridors,  of  about  twelve  feet  high,  and  seven  feet  wide,  around  each  of 
the  three  stories,  spanning  a  row  of  cells  on  each  side,  a  warder  being  often  seated  at  the 
extreme  angles  by  a  small  table,  beside  cheerfully -lighted  windows  pverlooking  his  ward. 
These  corridors  had  groined  roofs,  which  gave  them  a  more  interesting  appearance.  The 
interior  arrangements  of  the  prison,  and  the  general  appearance  of  the  exterior,  as  well  as 
the  manners  of  the  officials,  presented  to  us  a  more  homely  and  provincial  aspect  than  any 
of  tlio  other  London  prisons,  and  were  very  different  from*the  Surrey  House  of  Correction  at 
Wandsworth. 

The  chief  warder  informed  us  that  basement  A  contained  prisoners  under  remand,  and 
for  trial  at  the  Sessions  and  Central  Criminal  Court ;  corridor  B,  on  the  floor  above,  was 
occupied  by  prisoners  incarcerated  for  want  of  sureties,  and  those  who  are  summarily  con- 
victed of  assaults,  but  not  sentenced  to  hard  labour.  Penal  servitude  men  are  also  detained 
here  for  a  time  after  conviction,  as  at  Newgate.  Corridor  C  contains  persons  summarily 
convicted,  or  otherwise,  when  the  cells  beneath  are  full. 

We  entered  a  cell  in  corridor  A,  which  is  9  feet  1  inch  long,  and  7  feet  G  inches  wide,  and 
11  feet  1  inch  at  the  top  of  the  groined  arch.  It  is  furnished  very  similar  to  the  reception 
ceUs,  provided  with  wooden  flooring,  and  ventilated  in  like  manner.  There  are  fifty-ono 
cells  in  this  corridor,  forty-three  of  them  being  occupied ;  but  there  was  no  one  confined  in 
the  dark  cell. 

The  warder  observed  to  us,  "  that  detentional  prisoners  are  allowed  by  the  county  to 
maintain  themselves  before  their  trial."  The  chief  warder,  then  passing  along  the  corridor, 
stated  ''  that  they  are  permitted  to  get  a  pint  of  beer  if  they  choose."  He  particularly 
called  our  attention  to  this :  '^  that  it  is  an  imperative  condition  that  they  must  be  main- 
tained entirely  at  their  own  expense,  or  that  of  their  Mends,  or  they  must  be  contented  with 
the  prison  diet." 

As  we  passed  along  the  corridor,  we  observed  several  females,  some  respectable  in 
appeai'ance,  others  of  a  more  questionable  aspect,  visiting  several  of  the  crimiuala  and  con- 
versing with  them  through  the  wire  screen,  in  the  doors  of  their  cells.  We  proceeded  with 
the  warder  to  one  of  the  cells,  and  saw  a  quantity  of  provisions  introduced  along  with  some 
clean  Hnen.  The  wife  and  mother  of  the  prisoner  stood  alongside.  The  former  was  a 
quiet,  modest-looking  woman  in  middle  life,  and  the  latter  an  elderly-looking  person  who 
appeared  to  be  very  distressed  for  the  misfortune  of  her  son.  The  prisoner  was  a  robust, 
decent-looking  man,  a  carman,  and  was  charged  with  stealing  several  firkins  of  butter. 

We  went  up-stairs  to  corridor  £,  on  the  second  story,  and  were  introduced  to  the  warder 
on  duty.  He  informed  us  there  were  thirty-two  cells  here^  three  associated  rooms,  a 
padded  room  for  lunatics,  and  a  condemned  ceU  for  prisoners  under  sentence  of  death.  We 
were  shown  into  one  of  the  associated  rooms  which  is  about  the  size  of  two  cells,  and  ia 
furnished  similar  to  two  of  them.  At  present  it  is  used  as  a  dormitory.  On  going  into 
another  we  found  an  old  sharp-featured  man  confined  for  using  threatening  language. 
Having  failed  to  produce  a  surety  for  his  better  conduct  in  future,  he  was  imprisoned  for 
three  months.  Another  shabbily-dressed  elderly  man  was  committed' for  trial  at  the  sessions 
for  embezzling  from  his  employer.  A  young  good-looking  man,  a  deserter,  was  also  confined 
here  beside  them,  who  was  waiting  for  a  military  escort.  The  first-named  sharp-featured 
man  had  recently  attempted  to  commit  suicide  by  cutting  his  throat,  but  was  fortunately 
prevented.  As  we  stood  beside  him,  and  looked  into  his  quiet-looking  countenance,  we 
could  not  have  dreamed  he  would  have  dared  to  do  such  a  desperate  deed. 

The  warder  stated  to  us  that,  about  a  year  ago,  a  man  of  about  forty-five  years  of  age, 
formerly  an  employe  at  a  blind  school  in  the  metropolis,  was  imprisoned  there  for  setting  fire 
to  a  hay-rick  and  was  committed  for  trial.  On  the  day  previous  to  trial,  he  hung  himseli 
up  to  a  hook  of  the  window  by  a  handkerchief.  One  of  the  prisoners  who  slept  in  the 
room  with  him  awoke  and  saw  him  suspended,  and  gave  an  outcry.  The  wardeir,  who  slept  in 


HOESEMONGEE  LANE  JAIL.  *  629 

the  room  adjoining,  and  the  watchman  on  duty  both  ran  to  the  cell.  The  watchman  instantly 
cat  him  down.  The  medical  officer  was  sent  for,  and  arrived  about  ten  minutes  after ;  he 
was  occupied  from  three  o*clock  in  the  morning  to  eleven  o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  using 
means  to  restore  animation.  He  was  successful,  and  the  wretched  man  was  removed  to 
the  hospital,  and  taken,  a  day  afterwards,  to  the  assizes.  He  was  acquitted  on  the  ground 
of  insanity,  and  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum. 

Li  answer  to  our  interrogatories,  the  warder  observed,  "  The  prisoners  in  general  spend 
their  time  reading  books  from  the  prison  library.  Those  who  cannot  read,  walk  up  and 
down  their  cell,  and  sometimes  lie  down  and  sleep.  There  is  a  shoemaker  in  an  adjoining 
workshop  who  is  generally  busy  mending  shoes  in  the  prison.  He  does  it,  instead  of  sitting 
idle,  to  pass  his  time  more  pleasantly." 

Li  one  of  the  cells  we  saw  a  man  of  colour  lying  on  his  bed,  charged  with  stealing  two 
pigs'  flays,  while  in  a  state  of  destitution.  The  poor  fellow  lay  covered  with  a  chocolate- 
coloured  counterpane,  with  a  blue  handkerchief  bound  around  his  temples.  He  told  us 
he  belonged  to  Eingstown,  Jamaica.  He  spoke  English  tolerably  well,  and  was  lately  an 
able  seaman  on  board  a  man-of-war,  and  had  never  been  in  prison  before. 

Meantime,  a  genteel,  weU-dressed  young  woman  passed  along  the  coiridor  for  the  purpose 
of  visiting  a  young  man  of  about  nineteen,  a  clerk,  charged  with  ravishing  a  girl  between 
ten  and  twelve  years  of  age.  He  had  been  paying  his  addresses  to  a  sister  of  this 
girl,  who  lived  at  Brixton.  The  clerk  was  rather  a  smart-looking  youth.  He  told  us  his 
mother  resides  at  Gravesend,  and  protested  his  innocence  of  the  infamous  crime  laid  to  his 
charge.  He  has  since  been  convicted  at  the  sessions,  and  sent  to  Wandsworth  prison  for 
twelve  months. 

On  looking  into  another  cell,  we  saw  a  prisoner  sentenced  to  penal  servitude,  engaged 
reading  by  his  table,  having  just  finished  his  dinner.  He  was  bom  in  Canada,  and  came  to 
this  country  with  his  father  in  early  life,  to  secure  certain  property  left  by  an  uncle.  Ho 
was  a  good-looking  man,  a  costermonger,  and  complained  he  had  been  hunted  by  the 
police  from  pillar  to  post,  and  driven  into  misfortune.  He  had  been  fined  four  times  in  one 
week  for  selling  his  fruit  in  the  Borough,  and  had  been  pointed  out  and  marked  by  the 
officers  as  a  convicted  thief.  He  thought  there  were  good  men  in  the  police  which  he  had 
learned  by  experience ;  but  there  were  others  of  different  character,  who  acted  a  cruel  and 
unjust  part.  'This  prisoner  had  tried  to  stnmgle  himself  in  Wandsworth  prison  some  time 
ago.    He  appeared  now  more  resigned  to  his  fate. 

We  went  to  the  padded  room,  which  was  an  ordinary  cell  with  coir-packed  canvas 
around  the  walls.    It  is  floored  with  wood,  and  lighted  from  the  passage. 

We  visited  the  condemned  cell,  which  is  about  the  size  of  four  cells,  supported  in  the 
centre  with  two  pillars,  and  has  a  stone  floor.  It  is  furnished  with  two  iron  bedsteads  and 
a  washstand  in  one  .comer  and  a  water-closet  in  another.  An  officer  is  constantly  in 
attendance  night  and  day  when  a  murderer  is  confined. 

"  I  have  been  eight  years  in  this  jaU,"  said  the  warder,  "  and  have  only  known  one 
man  incarcerated  here  who  was  executed.  Dr.  Smethurst  was  for  a  time  confined  in  this  ceU, 
charged  with  poisoning  Miss  Banks.  Youngman  was  also  imprisoned  here,  who  assassinated 
his  mother,  sweetheart,  and  brother,  at  Walworth,  and  was  executed  on  6th  September,  1860. 
He  was  a  sullen,  resolute  feUow,  of  about  twenty-four  years  of  age.'' 

There  are  thirty-five  cells  in  corridor  G  on  the  floor  above,  one  of  them  being  a  con- 
demned cell,  similar  in  dimensions  to  that  we  visited.  There  was  not  a  single  prisoner 
incarcerated  there  at  the  time  of  our  visit. 

The  chief  warder  observed  to  us — *'  The  number  of  our  prisoners  varies  very  much  from 
time  to  time.  Last  Saturday,  for  example,  we  had  152  in  the  jail,  and  to-day  we  have  138. 
On  the  22nd  of  December  lost,  we  hod  only  ninety,  while  in  October  they  amounted  to  206.*' 

Each  of  the  three  corridors  extending  round  the  two  sides,  and  a  portion  of  the  third 


630  THE  GREAT  Tf ORLD  OP  LONDON". 

side,  forming  tho  male  branch  of  the  square-shaped  criminal  prifloUi  is  abont  427  feet  in 
length. 

%*  The  Infirmary, — ^We  visited  the  Infirmary,  a  detached  building  on  the  left  side 
of  the  court-yard,  with  iron-grated  windows,  and  were  introduced  to  the  warder  in  chaise. 

It  consists  of  two  weirds ;  one  for  debtors,  and  another  for  criminals.  There  was  no 
patient  then  in  the  debtor's  ward,  and  there  were  only  three  persons  in  the  criminal  ward, 
one  of  whom  is  suflfering  from  an  abscess,  and  another,  a  fine-looking  young  man,  from  tho 
amputation  of  one  of  his  legs. 

The  portion  of  the  Infirmary  allotted  to  the  criminals  consists  of  four,  and  that  to  the 
debtors  of  two  rooms.  There  is  also  a  bath-room  and  a  surgery  in  the  building.  Two  of 
those  occupied  by  criminals  are  large,  and  the  other  two  are  of  smaller  dimensions.  "  Each 
large  room,"  said  the  warder  "  accommodates  ten  or  twelve  prisoners  conveniently,  and  the 
small  rooms  contain  four  each."  The  large  rooms  are  each  of  them  furnished  with  iron  bed- 
steads, a  large  dining-table,  and  forms  which  serve  as  seats.  The  rooms  are  all  well  venti- 
lated, and  the  windows  are  protected  without  by  strong  iron  bars. 


•if  iii.-i3. 
The  Feimh  Prison 


"We  enter  tho  Female  Prison  by  a  small  court-yard  behind  the  right  wing  of  the  debtor's 
prison,  proceeding  through  a  gateway  leading  to  tho  office  of  the  chief  warder  and  the 
reception  cells. 

\*  Female  Beception  Ward. — There  are  nine  reception  cells  here  of  the  same  dim^sions 
as  those  in  the  male  prison,  and  similarly  furnished.  They  were  then  empty.  In  the  passage 
there  are  two  bells,  one  communicating  with  the  wards  for  female  debtors,  and  the  other 
with  the  wards  for  female  criminals. 

On  entering  the  matron^ a  store-room  we  found  it  contained  an  ample  assortment  of  clothing 
and  bedding  of  various  kinds,  consisting  of  striped  cotton  shirts,  grey  calico  chemises,  flannel 
and  linsey  petticoats,  bluechecked  neckerchiefs,  blue  cotton  gowns,  chocolate-coloured  worsted 
rugs,  and  sheets  and  blankets,  etc.,  all  carefully  arranged. 

We  were  shown  into  a  bath-room,  18  feet  by  15,  where  there  were  two  zinc  baths  similar 
to  those  in  the  male  branch  of  the  prison,  with  slate  partitions  between  them.  Here  we  also 
saw  a  standard  measure  for  taking  the  prisoners'  height,  and  a  cupboard  containing  the 
prisoners'  own  clothing,  chiefly  belonging  to  an  inferior  class  charged  with  assault,  stealing 
from  the  person,  shoplifting,  etc. 

These  reception  cells  are  situated  right  and  left  of  the  long  passage  entering  into  the 
female  prison. 

%^  The  Laundry  is  about  21  feet  square,  and  lighted  by  a  large  skylight.  There  arc 
six  drying  horses  here  heated  by  a  stove  underground  used  likewise  for  heating  the  irons. 
A  large  ironing  board  extends  along  one  of  the  sides  of  the  apartment.  There  is  also  a 
mangle  here  and  a  cupboard  containing  clean  clothing. 

We  passed  from  the  laundry  to  the  washing  cells  through  a  small  room  in  which  there  is 
a  steam  boiler  to*  heat  the  water  for  washing.  There  are  five  washing  ceUs.  In  one  of 
them  two  prisoners  were  engaged  at  the  wooden  troughs,  one  with  a  child  by  her  side.  These 
cells  are  7  feet  2  inches  wide,  and  9  feet  9  inches  long.  The  troughs  are  supplied  with  hot 
and  cold  water. 


HOESEMONGER  LANE  JAIL.  651 

In  another  room  there  are  two  coppers  for  boiling  the  clothingy  and  a  wringing  machine 
similar  to  the  one  we  saw  in  Holloway  Prison.  Opposite  to  this  is  another  apartme6t 
where  the  unwashed  clothing  is  contained.  The  matron  stated,  "  We  wash  for  the  whole 
of  the  prisoners  who  require  it,  debtors  as  well  as  criminals.  We  have  at  present  eight 
persons  employed  in  the  laundry,  which  is  the  general  number.  Sometimes  we  have  more ; 
we  commence  our  work  here  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  end  at  six  in  the  evening." 

*#*  Tlie  Teacher. — ^We  were  introduced  to  Miss  Moseley,  the  teacher,  who  replied,  in 
answer  to  our  queries — **  I  teach  the  various  females  separately  in  the  prison.  Sometimes 
me  have  a  considerable  number  able  to  read.  The  prisoners  are  seldom  longer  than  three 
wonths  xmder  my  care.  I  often  find  that  some  who  did  not  know  their  letters  when  they 
entered  the  prison,  are  able  to  read  the  Testament  by  the  time  they  leave,  and  learn  to  write 
besides.  As  a  general  rule,  I  find  the  young  are  the  most  docile  scholars.  I  teach  all  the 
prisoners  who  are  unable  to  read,  however  short  their  stay,  and  visit  them  in  their  cells  for 
that  purpose.'' 

%*  Visiting  tlie  Cells. — ^The  matron  informed  us  that  **  the  female  prison  consists  of  four 
divisions — E,  F,  G,  and  H — ^the  latter  being  the  reception  ward.  The  E  division  is  appro- 
priated for  convicts  only.  Sometimes,  however,  I  place  prisoners  for  want  of  sureties  and 
remanded  prisoners  in  them.  The  F  division  is  reserved  for  prisoners  under  remand,  com- 
mitted lor  trial,  and  confined  for  want  of  sureties ;  and  E  is  set  apart  for  prisoners  sum- 
manly  convicted  of  assaults  and  other  misdemeanours.'* 

The  cells  in  the  female  prison  are  of  the  same  dimensions  as  those  in  the  male  branch, 
and  are  similarly  furnished.  There  is  one  dark  cell  for  punishment  floored  with  wood,  which 
is  seldom  occupied. 

At  the  time  of  our  visit  the  five  cells  in  division  E  were  all  occupied.  We  accompanied 
the  matron  to  the  F  division,  consisting  of  twenty-two  cells,  with  three  larger  associated 
oeUs.  There  are  three  rooms  here  used  as  an  infirmary.  We  entered  one  of  them  14  feet 
10  inches  by  8  feet  4  inches,  similar  in  dimensions  to  the  other  two.  It  has  a  wooden 
flooring,  is  lighted  by  two  windows,  and  contains  a  fireplace.  It  is  furnished  with  two  iron 
bedsteads,  a  larger  table  than  in  the  other  cells,  and  is  lighted  by  two  windows. 

The  lying-in  ward  consists  of  three  cells  ^nishcd  with  bedsteads,  tables,  chairs,  etc. 
There  is  a  cell  used  for  persons  in  a  foul  condition,  sufiering  under  the  itch  and  covered  with 
vermin.  "  Some  prisoners  are  in  such  a  disgusting  condition,"  said  the  matron,  "  that  wo 
have  to  cut  their  hair  off,  and  others  are  covered  with  dreadful  eruptions  of  tho  skin.  Such 
parties  are  of  different  ages,  from  13  to  60,  but  most  of  them  are  young.  Many  of  tho 
young  girls  are  afilicted  witli  horrid  disease,  and  in  a  sad  condition.  We  have  such  fre- 
quently remanded  for  a  few  days  or  weeks.     There  is  a  bath  attached  to  the  infirmaiy." 

We  were  shown  into  an  associated  cell  about  the  size  of  two  ordinary  cells.  There  aic 
three  of  them  in  this  division  which  are  used  for  persons  who  require  to  be  watched,  such  as 
prisoners  suspected  of  attempting  suicide,  subject  to  fits,  etc.  We  observed  four  hammocks 
rolled  up  and  suspended  on  hooks  against  the  wall,  with  a  large  strong  beam  of  wood  lying 
alongside,  which  is  placed  at  night  across  tho  centre  of  the  cell,  and  serves  as  a  support  to 
one  of  the  sides  of  the  hammocks.    The  flooring  is  of  stone. 

We  visited  several  of  the  cells,  but  did  not  find  any  of  the  cases  particularly  deserving  of 
notice. 

The  staff  of  the  female  prison  oonsiBts  of  the  matron,  the  schoolmistress,  the  laundry 
warder,  infirmary  warder,  female  debtors'  warder,  a  general  warder,  and  an  assistant  warder. 


V 


632 


THE  GREAT  WOELD  OP  LONDON. 


STATISTICS  OF  HOESEMONGEB  LANE  JAIL. 
Fob  Ysjjt  ■ESJ)J3sia  Septbmbcb  1860,  fbou  the  Gotsbnuent  BETtmKS. 


KUMBEB  07  PBISONEBS. 

Hales.  Femalos. 
For  trial  and  tried  at  Assizes  and 

Sessions   485  .. 

Summary  oonyictions 437  ... 

Want  of  sureties     73  ... 

Bemanded  and  discharged 819  ... 

Debtors  and  civil  process  451  ... 

Mutiny  Act 190  .. 


131 
223 

71 
416 

33 


Total  of  commitments  .  2455 


874 


PBSYIOUSLT  OOIOCITTBD  TO  ANY  PEISOW. 

Meles.  Females. 

Once 313  ...    140 

Twice  93  ...      78 

Thrice 48  ...      85 

Fourtimes  31  •••      ^^ 

Five  times   24  ...      18 

Seven  times,  and  above  five  20  ...      18 

Ten  times,  and  above  seven  16  ...      11 

Above  ten  times 8  ...        6 


Total 


553 


328 


AQE  Ain>  BEX. 


Under  twelve  years 43 

Twelve  to  sixteen   172 

Sixteen  to  twenty-one    442 

Twenty-one  to  tliirty 573 

Thirty  to  forty    812 

Forty  "to  fifty  172 

Fifty  to  sixty  66 

Sixty  and  above  > 32 

Age  not  ascertained   2 


Hales.  Femalos. 
,.  5 
.  31 
,.  215 
.  262 
,  158 
..  121 
..  81 
..  15 
3 


Total. 


1814    ...    841 


SmXEPLACE. 


England  1577 

Wales  11 

Scotland  « 19 

Ireland 167 

Colonies,  and  East  Indies  8 

Foreign  countries  ••  33 

Not  ascertained  9 


Hales.    Females. 
..     695 
..        6 
..      10 
..     Ill 
4 
7 
8 


CAPACITY  AND  STATS  OP  TUB  PBISON. 

Hales.    Females. 

Numbers  constructed  to  contain      213    ...      C2 

Greatest  number  at  any  one  time      141    ...      47 

Hales  and  Femalos. 

Daily  average  number  in  the  year 148 


STATS  OP  nrSTBirCTION. 

Hales.   Females. 

Neither  lead  nor  write  492  ...  286 

Head,  or  read  and  write  imper- 
fectly    1221  ..V  645 

Bead  and  write  well  93  ...  7 

Superior  instruction    8  ...  — 

Instruction  not  ascertained    5  ...  1 


Total. 


1814     ...     &i3 


DISPOSAL  OF  TIIB  PBISONEBS  CONPINBD  OX  COSl- 
UITHBNT,  BBHAND,   OB  BSSIOYAL. 

HaIos,    Fefoale«. 

Number  in  prison  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  year  100    ...       43 

Committed  during  the  year  2 155     ...     874 

Bemoved  to  the  prison  during  the 
year 4    ...        1 


Total. 


2559    ...     918 


CASBS  OP  8ICE2?BSS. 

Hales.  Females. 

Greatest  number  at  any  one  time  ...    16  ...    12 

Deaths 2  ...     — 

Infirmary  cases   6  ...       5 

Slight  indisposition    423  ...193 

Insanity  3  ...     — 


Total 


418    ...  209 


PUNISHHSNTS  POB  0PPBNCB8  IN  PBISON. 

Holes.    Females. 

Whipping    — 

Irons  or  handcufis — 

Solitary  or  dark  cells 2     ...      4 

Stoppage  of  diet 67    ...      8 

Other  punishments — 


Total  puniahm^its 69 


12 


SSTABLISHHENT  OP  OFPICSBS. 

Males.   Fcmalcf. 

Governor  and  deputy  1    „.        — 

Chaplain 1     ...        — * 

Surgeon 1 

Clerk  and  schoolmaster    2 

Schoolmistress — 

Upper  warders*  matron 1 

Under  warders 12 

Other  sub-oificers,..Mit»*t*tf«.i.*         4 


■•• 


••• 


1 
1 
4 


22 


6 


HOBSElf ONOEB  LAI^  JAIL. 


633 


GLiS0  1. 

ConTiotad  priaonen  fienteneed  to  any  term  not  exceeding  seren  daya  :-~- 

MaUt. 

Females, 

Breakfast 

• 

Oatmeal  gruel       .       1  pint. 

Breakfast 

.       Oatmeal  gruel 

1  pint. 

Dinner 

• 

Bread    •       .        .       1  lb. 

Dinner 

SreacL    •        .        • 

lib.  ' 

Supper 

• 

Oatmeal  gruel        .       1  pint. 

Supper 

Oatmeal  gruel 

Ipint. 

OtiASB  2. 

Convicted 

prisonerB  sentenced  to  any  term  exceeding  seTen  days,  and  not  exceeding  twenty-one 

days : — 

Males. 

I^smales. 

Breai&at 

Oatmeal  gruel                1  pint. 

Break&8t 

Oatmeal  gruel 

1  pint. 

it 

Bread    .                       6  oz. 

>f 

Bread    . 

6oz. 

Dinner 

Bread    ...      12  oz. 

Dinner 

Bread    . 

6oz. 

Supper 

Bread    .        .        .        6  oz. 

Supper 

Bread    . 

6oz. 

79 

Oatmeal  gruel        .        1  pint. 

»f 

Oatmeal  gruel 

1  pint. 

Priflonora  of  this  class  employed  at  hard  labour,  to  liave,  in  addition,  one  pint  of  soup  per  week. 

Class  3. 

Convicted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  twenty-one  days,  hut  not  more  than 
six  weeks ;  and  convicted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  twenty-one 
days,  but  not  more  than  four  months :— • 

Daily. 


Breakfast 

MiUes, 
Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread    • 

•        1  pint. 
6oz. 

Breakfast 

• 

Females. 
Oatmeal  gruel 
Bread     . 

• 

1  pint. 
6oz. 

Dinner 

Soup 
•       Bread    •       • 

Sunday  an 
1  pint. 
8oz. 

id  Thursday. 
Dinner 

>9 

• 

Soup 
Bread 

• 
• 

1  pint. 
Coz. 

Dinner    . 
»>     • 
>»     • 

Tuesday  at 
Cooked  meat,  without  bono      3  oz. 
Bread        .        •        •        •        8  oz« 
Potatoes    .       .       .       .       ilb. 

id  Saturday . 
Dinner    . 

» 
n     • 

Cooked  meat,  without  bono 
Bread        .... 
Potatoes    .... 

3  oz. 
C  oz. 

ilb. 

Dinner   . 
»     • 

Bread       •       • 
Potatoes    •               • 

Monday f  Wednesday,  and  Friday, 

8oz.            Dinner   .    Bread       •        • 
•       lib.                    „     •    Potatoes    •       • 

• 
• 

Coz. 
lib. 

Supper  • 

Same  as  breakfast. 

Da 

ily* 

1     Supper  . 

Same 

as  breakfast. 

Class  4. 

Convicted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  six  weeks,  but  not  more  than  four 
months ;  and  convicted  prisoners  not  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  four  months : — 


Males. 
Breakfast    Oatmeal  gruel 
n         Bread       •        • 


J)aily. 

Females. 

1  pint*     I    Breakfast    Oatmeal  gruel 
8  oz.        j  ,.         Bread  . 


»• 


1  pint. 
Coz. 


Dinner 


Sunday,  Tuesday^  Thursday,  and  Saiwrday. 
Cooked  meat,  without  bono      8  oz.  Dinner    .    Cooked  meat,  without  bono      3  oz . 


Dinrer 


Potatoes 
Bread 


Soup 
Bread 


ilb. 
8oz. 


Potatoes 
Bread 


Monday,  Wednesday,  and  Friday. 

1  pint.     I    Dinner   .    Soup 
8  oz.        t  ••     .    Bread 


*• 


ilb. 
Coz. 


Ipint. 
Coz. 


634 


THE  GEEAT  VOELD  OF  LGSDON. 


Sapper   •    Same  as  breakfiAst, 


I    Supper   •    Same  as  breakfiiet. 
Class  5. 
Conyicted  prisoners  employed  at  hard  labour  for  terms  exceeding  foor  montbs  ^«■ 

Stmday,  Tuesday^  I%ur§day,  and  Saturday. 


Break&st 


»f 


Dinner 


9> 
99 


Breakfast 


Mal69. 

Oatmeal  g;ruel  •        •  1  pint. 

Sread        •        •        .        •  8  oz. 

Cooked  meat,  without  bone  4  oz. 

Potatoes    .        .  lib. 

Bread        •       «        •       •  6  oz. 

Mcmday,  Wedneiday^  and  Friday, 


Breaikfast    Oatmeal  gruel  •       •  1  pint: 

„  Bread      .        .        .        •  6  ox. 

Dinner        Cooked  meat>  without  bone  3oz. 

Potatoes  .        •       .       •  i  lb. 

Bread     •        •       •        .  6  oz. 


99 
99 


»9 

Dixmer 


99 
99 


One  pint  of  eoooa^  made  of  f  oz.  of 
flaked  cocoa  or  ooooa-nibs,  sweet- 
ened with  i  0%,  of  molasses  or 
sugar. 

Bread      •       •       •       •       8  oz. 

Soup        ....        1  pint. 

Potatoes  •       •       •       •       1  lb. 

Bread      «       •       •       •       6oz. 


Break£ut  One  pint  of  oocoa^  made  of  f  oz.  of 
flaked  cocoa  or  cocoa-nibs,  sweet- 
ened with  }  oz.  of  molasses  or 
sugar. 

Bread      •        •        •        .        6oz. 

Soup        •       •       •        .        1  pint. 

Potatoes  •       .       •       •        ^  lb. 

Bread     •        •       •        •        6  oz. 


99 

Dinner 


9> 


99 


JDaily. 


Sapper  Oatmesl  gruel  •  •  1  pint  I  Supper  Oatmeal  gruel  •  •  1  pint. 
„  Bread     .       .       •       •       8  oz.         I  „  Bread     •       •       •       •       6  os. 

Class  6.  ^ 

Prisoners  sentenced  bj  Court  to  solitary  confinement :~ 
JToZm.  I  FmalM, 

The  ordinaay  diet  of  their  respectiye  dssses.  I   The  ordinaiy  diet  of  their  respective  olnssoa. 

Class  7. 

Msoners  for  trial  and  examinationi  misdemeanants  of  the  first  division,  who  do  not  maintaiTi  themsdns, 
and  destitute  debtors  : — 

Mates.  I  Fmdles. 

ThesameasChss4.  |    The  same  as  Class  4. 

Class  8. 

Debtors  committed  under  the  8ih  and  9th  Yict.,  cap.  127,  and  9th  sad  10th  Vict.,  cap.  95 ;  fraudnlent 
debtors  committed  by  CommisaionerB  of  Bankrupts  under  the  Bankruptcy  Laws;  and  debton 
remanded  £6r  fraud  from  Insolvent  Debtors*  Courts : — 

Malei.  j  Female* 

The  same  as  Class  8.  |    The  same  as  Class  8. 

Class  9. 

Prisoners  in  dose  confinement  for  prison  offences  for  terms  not  exceeding  three  days : — 

1  lb.  of  Bread  per  diem. 

Prisoners  in  dose  confinement  for  prison  offences  under  the  provisions  of  the  42nd  Section  of  the 

Jail  Act  :— 

2)aUsf. 

Malei. 


Breakfast 

99 

Dmner 

Supper 


Bread 
Qruel 
Bread 
Bread 
Gruel 


FmaUs» 


8  oz. 

BreakfiMt 

Bread 

•        1  pint* 

99 

Gruel 

8  oz. 

Dinner 

Bread 

8  oz. 

Sapper 

Bread 

1  pint 

99 

Gruel       , 

6 

Ipint. 
6oz. 
6oz. 
1  pint 


IngredieiUe  of  Soup  and  OrueL — The  soup  to  contain,  per  pint,  three  ounces  of  cooked  meat,  without 
bone ;  three  ounces  of  potatoes ;  one  ounce  of  barley,  rice,  or  oatmeal ;  and  one  ounce  of  onions  or  leeks, 
with  pepper  and  salt.  The  gruel  to  contain  two  ounces  of  oatmeal  per  pint  The  gruel,  on  alternate 
days,  to  be  sweetened  with  three-quarter  ounce  of  molasses,  or  sugar,  and  seasoned  with  salt  In  seasons 
when  the  potato  crop  has  failed,  four  ounces  of  split  peas  made  into  a  pudding  may  be  occasionally  w nb- 
stltuted;  but  the  change  must  not  be  made  more  than  twice  in  each  week.  Boys  under  fourteen  yean  of 
age  to  be  placed  on  the  same  diet  as  females. 

Thomas  Haxxild,  Fxinter,  Shos  Lue^  Sleet  Street,  London*