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meant that I had no mark upon me by which
I might be at once identified. "What are
you charged with?" "Ever in gaol before?"
Then I was measured by the standard rule,
(I had before been measured in the station-
house,) and dismissed by the governor with a
sharp reproof to the warden for having brought
me before him in a highly improper state
(I had a two days' beard). He was to see at
once and have me cleanly shaved.

Next followed the "ninety minutes" wnich
to me were all the day. I had been locked
up only a short time when I was unbarred
and ordered to "the grate," at which I had
been left by the first warden yesterday. It
was the place for seeing visitors, and there I
found my wife. The comfort and quiet of the
other prisoners and prisoners' friends, who
formed two close files opposite each other
with the space between the two gratings
parting them, was disturbed that morning.
My dear wife cried loudly the whole time.
The head warden came to her, and with a
kindness not to be forgotten, begged her
"not to take on so, it would be all right."
Then he brought her a form to sit upon, tell-
ing her she would find it tiresome work, to
stand an hour and a half on the cold stones.
When the two gates were opened that the
bundles brought by visitors might be passed
in, he made her advance half-way through,
that she might shake hands with me. His
heart was not of Newgate stone.

Indeed, I found that while there was a great
deal, especially among the under-wardens,
of the roughness that they considered necessary
to discipline, there was no lack of a
right human feeling anywhere. The hour
and a half of interview at the grate, from half-
past ten to twelve for female relatives and
friends, and the hour from one to two o'clock
for male friends, were always full of noticeable
scenes, that on the whole were to the
credit of the people concerned in them. Only
one visitor was allowed to each prisoner at a
time; and, considering the pressure for front
places, that was a fair rule. At the grate,
prisoners of every grade jostled one another
vigorously, and the confusion of tongues was
terrible. Some visitors were sad, and came
weeping or dejected; others, at home in
Newgate, sought to encourage their caged
acquaintances with rude fun. The turnkey
of the ward favoured us sometimes with his
company and exchanged recognitions with
familiar people; adding a contribution of
good-humoured turnkey jokes. It was worthy
of observation, that although there might be
tears seen and regrets heard, no wife ever
reproached her husband, no mother her son,
no sister her brother. It was not the time
for admonition, their hearts knew. With one
exception the same right feeling was shown
by the men.

A young man guilty of a small embezzlement,
who had given himself into custody.
had been brought into Newgate a day or two
after my arrival, and made all night such
dreadful lamentations in his cell, that at change
parade we all had to compare notes about our
broken slumbers. He was walking up and
down the yard with his face buried in his
hands; and, at chapel, groaned so much
before the arrival of the Ordinary, that the
warden sung out, "You had better, I think,
stop that cat's noise here, you sir!" The
next morning he told me that he had expected
his brother, but that nobody had been to
see him. He wanted to see his brother very
much. That afternoon while I was at the
grate talking to a friend, a sedate-looking,
sanctimonious, well-dressed man arrived. It
was the expected brother. He did not appear
much affected, and addressed his repentant
relative in a way that made the turnkey
stare. The turnkey always came to have a
thorough look at a new visitor. "Well, sir,"
said the good brother, "so here you are, and
here of course you shall remain. I have
just come; not because you sent for me, but
to say that none of the family will have
anything to do with you." The castaway had
no answer, for he was groaning and lamenting;
but the turnkey shouted after the
righteous one as he was departing, "I say,
sir, you must send him a clean shirt and a
collar, and a bit of a hairbrush. And I tell
you what, he don't relish his gruel; so just
you leave a shilling at the gate to get him
something better."

The brother was exasperated at the impudent
demand. " Prison fare," he replied, .
"is good enough for him, too good for him.
I'll send the other things, if you assure me I
can have them back when he is sentenced.
And mark me, brother," he said, turning with
fierce deliberation on his old home play-
fellow, "if by any chance you should escape
punishment, don't come near any of us.
We'll have nothing to do with you. The
sooner you get out of the way the better."
Shouldering his umbrella he marched off, and
the turnkey speaking for the first time gently
to the youth, said, " Come now! up to
your cell, there's a good fellow! You wanted
to see your brother. Now I hope you're

The chief event of the afternoon in
Newgate, next to the constitutional walk in the
yard, is being locked up in a large cell on the
basement {storey} with pen, ink, and paper.

Th-. A-e wrote ietiers which a turnkey saw
us sign and marked wHh his initials; they
were then takr ' , he:-«»d by the authorities
before they were puT^tea. .-^^iw^^^imp* ^ w«.s
locked up with one of the many ]-» i^o/^t;l'S wlio
could not write, or even dictate sensibly; but
such men never would allow that it was pos-
sible to make their meaning clf.a!er than they
made it, by another than their own appointed
form of words.

When being escorted through the passages
to the glass-room for interviews with my
solicitor, I used often to meet a man carrying