The Chronicles of Crime. Camden Pelham
amounting almost to a cart-load, and reaching up nearly to the chimney-piece; and having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before. He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall.
“The ward which Jack was endeavouring to break was called the Red-room from the circumstance of its walls having once been painted in that colour: all traces of which, however, had long since disappeared. Like the Castle, which it resembled in all respects, except that it was destitute even of a barrack bedstead, the Red-room was reserved for state prisoners, and had not been occupied since the year 1716, when the gaol was crowded by the Preston rebels. Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room and then crept after it. As soon as he had gained his feet, he glanced round the bare black walls of the cell, and, oppressed by the misty close atmosphere, exclaimed, ‘I will let a little fresh air into this dungeon: they say it has not been opened for eight years, but I won’t be eight minutes in getting out.’ In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. Totally disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and reserved it for future use. Nor was he long in making it available. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired: but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt.
“Opening the door, he then stepped into a dark narrow passage, leading, as he was well aware, to the Chapel. On the left there were doors communicating with the King’s Bench Ward, and the Stone Ward, two large holds on the master debtors’ side. But Jack was too well versed in the geography of the place to attempt either of them. Indeed, if he had been ignorant of it, the sound of voices, which he could faintly distinguish, would have served as a caution to him. Hurrying on, his progress was soon checked by a strong door, several inches in thickness and nearly as wide as the passage. Running his hand carefully over it in search of the lock, he perceived, to his dismay, that it was fastened on the other side. After several vain attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alternative, to break through the wall in the part nearest the lock. This was a much more serious task than he anticipated. The wall was of considerable thickness, and built altogether of stone; and the noise he was compelled to make in using the heavy bar, which brought sparks with every splinter he struck off, was so great, that he feared it must be heard by the prisoners on the debtors’ side. Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. Half an hour’s labour, during which he was obliged more than once to pause to regain breath, sufficed to make a hole wide enough to allow a passage for his arm up to the elbow. In this way he was able to force back a ponderous bolt from its socket; and to his unspeakable delight, found that the door instantly yielded. Once more cheered by daylight, he hastened forward and entered the Chapel.
“Situated at the upper part of the south-east angle of the gaol, the Chapel of Old Newgate was divided on the north side into three grated compartments, or pens, as they were termed, allotted to the common debtors and felons. In the north-west angle there was a small pen for female offenders; and on the south, a more commodious inclosure appropriated to the master debtors and strangers. Immediately beneath the pulpit stood a large circular pen, where malefactors under sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon delivered to them, and where they formed a public spectacle to the crowds which curiosity generally attracted on those occasions. To return, Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. The inclosure by which it was surrounded was about twelve feet high; the under part being composed of oaken planks, the upper part of a strong iron grating, surmounted by sharp iron spikes. In the middle there was a gate: it was locked. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon reached the condemned pew, where it had once been his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat endeavoured to snatch a moment’s repose. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. There he sat as before, with the heavy fetters on his limbs, and beside him sat his three companions who had since expiated their offences on the gibbet. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye fixed upon him. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the Ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. From this perturbed state he was roused by the thoughts of his present position, and fancying he heard approaching voices, he started up. On one side of the chapel there was a large grated window, but, as it looked upon the interior of the gaol, Jack preferred following the course he had originally decided upon, to making any attempt in this quarter. Accordingly he proceeded to a gate which stood upon the south, and guarded the passage communicating with the leads. It was grated, and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open; and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered. Well aware that the doors in this passage were much stronger than those in the entry he had just quitted, he was neither surprised nor dismayed to find it fastened by a lock of unusual size. After repeatedly trying to remove the plate, which was so firmly screwed down that it resisted all his efforts, and vainly attempting to pick it with his spike and nail, he at length, after half an hour’s ineffectual labour, wrenched off the box by means of the iron bar, and the door, as he laughingly expressed it, ‘was his humble servant.’
“But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. Hastening along the passage, he came to the sixth door. For this he was prepared: but he was not prepared for the almost insurmountable difficulties which it presented. Running his hand hastily over it, he was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts and bars. It seemed as if all the precautions previously taken were here accumulated. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from the conviction of its utter hopelessness; but though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. Once again he passed his hand over the surface, and carefully noted all the obstacles. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Below it a prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and further protected by an immense padlock. Besides this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars, clenched by broad-headed nails. An iron fillet secured the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the main post of the door-way. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;—now to wrench it off with the bar, but all without effect. He not only failed in making any impression but seemed to increase the difficulties, for after an hour’s toil he had broken the nail, and slightly bent the iron bar. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles and bruised hands, streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water, he sunk against the wall, and while in this state was seized with a sudden and strange alarm. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight, and were in pursuit of him—that they had climbed up the chimney—entered the bed-rooms—tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate, which he had left unbroken in the chapel. So strongly was he impressed with this idea, that grasping the iron bar with both hands he dashed it furiously against the door, making the passage echo with the blows. By degrees his fears vanished, and, hearing nothing, he grew calmer. His spirits revived, and encouraging himself with the idea that the present impediment, though the greatest, was the last, he set himself seriously to consider how it might best be overcome. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet—a notion no sooner conceived than executed. With incredible labour, and by the aid of both spike and nail, he succeeded in getting the point of the bar beneath the fillet. Exerting all his energies, and using the bar as a lever, he forced off the iron band, which was full seven feet high, seven inches wide, and two inches thick, and which brought with it, in its fall, the box of the lock, and the socket of the bolt, leaving no further hindrance. Overjoyed beyond measure at