The Chronicles of Newgate (Vol. 1&2). Griffiths Arthur
the same hue for above half a century, were bedaubed with texts of Scripture written in charcoal, such as “Man is born to trouble, as the sparks fly upward,” “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I have kept Thy word.” There were bedsteads made of boards for the bedding, but neither “flocks nor feathers to make one.” The tables and chairs were of like antiquity and use. “And Potiphar’s wife’s chambermaid’s hat at the coffee-house in Chelsea had as fair a claim to any modern fashion as any one thing in the room.” Our author is disgusted at the accommodation provided for the price, twelve shillings a week, and another twelve pence for the woman or nurse who cleaned the place. But he is consoled by being told what he had escaped by not being locked up on the master’s side, “where, besides a thousand other inconveniences, I must have paid one and sixpence per diem for leave to associate myself with pickpockets in a dark and stinking cellar.”
The following morning he was admitted into other mysteries of the place. All who had exceeded the previous night had to pay the usual forfeit, a groat in drink for the turnkeys, which the latter collect very punctually, and at the payment of the forfeit, “as many persons as think fit may be present.” The names of the offenders having been called over with all ceremony, all pleaded guilty and promptly paid the fine, which was forthwith spent in liquor, to be consumed by the cobbler of Highgate and his fellows. From this time forward the novice was free of the place, and was looked upon by the other prisoners as one of themselves. The morning passed with the ordinary diversions. Talk over the persons of distinction who had gone to Tyburn out of such and such a room, was varied by the perusal of newspapers hired out by the turnkeys, and the discussion of the literary merits of the last dying speech composed by a condemned prisoner, who was on the brink of the gallows. One is given by the author of ‘The Press-yard’ in extenso, the oration of one J—— B—ggs, an “orange merchant,” sentenced to die for outwitting the Bank of England, a flowery piece of rhetoric, hardly worth transcribing, which wound up with these words—
“So much by way of oration. Here, Jack (Ketch), do your office decently and with despatch; these clothes, hat, and wig are yours; you will find fifteen shillings and some grocery in my pocket. Now, Mr. Ordinary, you may sing the psalm if you please, and I’ll endeavour as well as it is possible to bear a bob with you, but let it be none of your penitential ones.”
Thus passed the day. Towards evening visitors began to flock in from outside to take their bottle and comfort “the distressed inhabitants” of Newgate press-yard in the only way possible, by inordinate drinking. Of the visitors some were friends and relatives, others came from sheer predilection for criminal society. Among them was an alderman’s son, “who, not having so much prudence as his father, rendered himself suspected by keeping suspicious company.” Political affinities attracted more: the eminent merchant, “who would have done much better to relieve the Militia officer (? Bernardi), he came to carouse with, at a distance, than to appear so publicly in support of a person obnoxious to the Government;” or the clergyman, “who had made himself famous at Whitechapel, or in Saint Laurence’s Church, whom it behoved in a particular manner to take heed of his ways, since his zeal had already gained him the opposite party’s displeasure.” All of these came and went as they pleased. Conviviality was general, liquor was freely called for, potations were deep, and the press-yard of Newgate at night time was like the tap-room of a common inn.
The moment was one of considerable political excitement. The Pretender’s first attempt had collapsed in the north, and the press-yard was about to be crowded with more eminent guests. Our author is aroused one fine morning by loud joy-bells pealing from the churches, and he learns from his Jacobite companion that the “king’s (Pretender’s) affairs were ruined, and that the generals Willis and Carpenter had attacked the Jacobite forces in Preston, and taken all prisoners at discretion.” Newgate is convulsed by the news. Its officers are wild with delight, “calling for liquor after an extravagant manner, and drinking to their good luck, which was to arise from the ruin and loss of lives and fortunes in many good families.” A dialogue is overheard between the hangman, the deputy bed-maker, and a turnkey’s understrapper to the following effect:—
Executioner. Come, Doll, here’s to you. Good days to us once more. If this news be true I am made a man for ever.
Bed-maker. What news, Mr. Marvell?[91] Has the Parliament lengthened out the suspension of the Habeas Corpus Act?
Deputy Turnkey. No, you fool; something better than that.
Exec. Two or three hundred prisoners for high treason. Drink a bumper to their sudden arrival. They’ll be your tenants very speedily.
Bedm. How! Two or three hundred! Where shall we stow them?
Dep. T. Never heed that we shall find room for them, provided they have wherewithal to pay for it.
Exec. Pay for it! Most of them have very great estates, and are topping gentry, so there is no question we shall all of us make a penny by them.
Dep. T. I for fees to lighten their irons.
Bedm. I for keeping their chambers sweet and clean.
Exec. I for civility money in placing their halters’ knot right under their left ear, and separating their quarters at the place of execution with all imaginable decency.
Bedm. But with fine gentlemen such as these are said to be, what is their crime?
Dep. T. She’s so stupid as not to remember that we are talking of the defeated rebels.
Bedm. True; now I understand you. And those sort of gentry are to be brought hither?
Dep. T. Yes, you fool. Tom, t’other quartern of Geneva; we shall call for our bottle of port in a few days. I’ll e’en think of conning my new lesson against the prisoners come to town. “May it please your honour, this pair of derbys is as bright as silver, and weigh two guineas lighter than those such a gentleman has on.”
Bedm. And I, these sheets are made of the finest holland, and are never used but when persons of the first rank are to lie in them. Sir, such an one gave me a guinea the first night he handselled them.
Exec. I shall not be behindhand with this, though it will come last to my turn to finger any of their money. For you are to remember, that besides £3 per head I shall have from the sheriff for the execution of every peer, their clothes and the money in their pockets will likewise be my perquisites. And for every gentleman hanged and quartered I am to have the like sum, with the respective gratifications they shall make me for a quick and easy despatch; so that in all likelihood, provided the king does not unseasonably spoil my market by reprieves and pardons, which I hope he will never consent to, I shall not only purchase the title of an esquire, but the estate too, and be in a condition of yet taking an apprentice (? as hangman) under the same that are usually given to a Turkey merchant, which may make my wife hold up her head one day or other to the level of an alderman’s wife.
This conversation was presently interrupted by the approach of Mr. Pitt, the governor, who came, accompanied by other officials, to survey the rooms, and estimate the number of new tenants that could be accommodated therein. All due preparations made, a few days more brought to Newgate the unfortunate noblemen and gentlemen who had surrendered at discretion, hoping thus, although vainly, to save both life and estate. On their arrival in London they were led in triumph through the streets to their respective places of durance—viz. the Tower, the Marshalsea, Newgate, and the Fleet. The prisoners on arrival at Highgate were met by Major-General Tarlton with two battalions of Royal Foot Guards, completely armed. Cords were also brought sufficient to pinion each prisoner after the manner of condemned criminals, and to lead their horses with, “for each, from the lord to the footman, was accommodated with a Grenadier to that end.” Thus under safe conduct they marched from the Hill of Highgate to their several places of confinement. The Major-General led the way, being “preceded by several citizens of more loyalty than compassion, who made repeated huzzas to excite the mob to do the like.” After the General commanding came a company of the first regiment of Guards, “who made a very fine appearance.” Then came the division for the Tower, two and two, the Earl of Derwentwater and Lord Widdrington in