According to the "rules and regulations," all our privileges ended on our sentence. We were therefore entitled to nothing but prison fare after leaving the Old Bailey. But the hour was late, the cook was probably off duty, and our tea and toast had been waiting for us since five o'clock; so the head warder decided6 that we might postpone7 our trial of the prison menu until the morning. When it was brought to me, my toast (to use an Hibernicism) proved to be bread-and-butter. There were three slices. I ate two, but could not consume the third, my appetite being spoiled by excitement and the tepid8 tea.
The officer who acted as waiter informed me that the Old Bailey Street had been thronged9 all the afternoon, and was still crowded. "We all thought," he said, "that you would get off after that speech—and you would have with another judge. But you won't be in long. They're sure to get you out soon." I shook my head. "Take my word for it," he answered. Thanking him for his kindness, I told him I had no hope, and was reconciled to my fate. Twelve months was a long time, but I was young and strong, and should pull through it. "Yes," he said, with an appreciative10 look from head to feet, "there isn't much the matter with you now. But you'll be out soon, sir, mark my word."
I have learnt since that the crowd waited to give Judge North a warm reception. But they were disappointed. His lordship went home, I understand, via Newgate Street, and thus baffled their enthusiasm. Mr. Cattell was, I believe, less fortunate. He was hooted11 and jeered12 by the multitude, and obliged to take ignominious13 shelter in a cab.
Strange as it may seem, my last night in Newgate was one of profound repose14. I was wearied, exhausted15; and spent nature claimed an interval16 of rest. For a few minutes I lay in my hammock, listening to the faint sound of distant voices and footsteps. Memory and fancy were inert17; only the senses were faintly alive. Consciousness gradually contracted to a dim vision of the narrow cell, then to a haze18, in which the gaslight shone like a star, and finally died out. But by one of those fantastic tricks the imps19 of dreaming play us, the last patch of consciousness changed into my wife's face. It was too dim and distant to stir grief or regret; like the vague vision of a beloved face hovering20 over eyes that are waning21 in death.
In the morning I was awakened22 as usual by the officer bringing the light for my gas. At eight o'clock the little square flap in my door was let down with the customary bang, and, on looking through the aperture23, I perceived a big pan containing a curious clotted24 mixture, which resembled bill-stickers' paste. Behind the utensil25 I saw part of an officer's uniform. This worthy26 stirred the mixture with a ladle, while he jocosely27 inquired, "D'ye want any of this?" I did not. "Come," he continued, "put out your tin and I'll give you some." I told him my appetite was not robust28 enough for his hospitality, and he passed on, probably feeling sure I should not eat the prison fare, and thinking the stuff too good to be wasted. I took the little brown loaf he offered me and examined it closely. It was very hard, and apparently29 very dry. Depositing it on the shelf, I breakfasted on cold water and the slice of bread-and-butter left over night.
After this sumptuous30 repast I was let out for exercise. This time the three "condemned" blasphemers were not taken to a separate court. We paraded the common yard with the other prisoners. They were few in number, but they showed many varieties of disposition31. One hung his head, and doggedly32 tramped round the wretched enclosure; another walked erect33 and stiff, with an air of defiance34; another shuffled35 along with a vacant stare, as though dazed by his fate; another looked as indifferent as though he were walking along the street; and another leered at his companions in misfortune, as though the whole thing were an elaborate joke. For a few minutes I trotted36 behind Mr. Ramsey, with whom I exchanged a few cheerful words, but the vigilant37 officers soon separated us. "How long have ye got?" was the constant question of the man at my rear, until the officers detected, and removed him. I was surprised and annoyed at this easy familiarity, but I grew accustomed to it afterwards. The rules of civilised society naturally lapse38 in prison. Talking is strictly39 prohibited, "pals40" are rigorously kept apart, nobody knows who will be next him in the exercise ring, and any man who wants to wag his tongue must strike up a conversation with his immediate41 neighbor. "How long are ye doing?" is almost invariably the introduction. This muttered question brings a muttered answer. Confidences are exchanged, and the conversation grows animated42, until at last the speakers forget prudence43, and betray themselves to the eyes or ears of an officer, who immediately parts them, or makes them both fall out, and reports them to the Governor for violating the rules. The old stagers acquire a knack44 of talking without moving their lips, so that the words just reach the man in front or behind. If an officer suspects one of these worthies45, he calls out, "Now then, seventeen, I see ye!" "See me what?" says the indignant innocent. "Talking," replies the officer. "Why, I never opened my lips," says the prisoner, and his defence is perfectly46 true.
On returning from the exercise yard to our cells, we were furnished with a sheet of paper and an envelope to write the last letter which "condemned criminals" are permitted to send from prison after their sentence. The privilege is almost a mockery, for no answer is allowed, and there is little consolation47 in flinging a final word into the vast silence, which seems deaf because unresponsive. A last interview, however brief, would be far more merciful.
We were summoned from our cells at eleven o'clock for conveyance48 to Holloway Gaol49. All our effects were handed over to us, and we formally signed a receipt for them in the big book. While this process was going on the officers allowed us to chat, and endeavoured to console us by insisting that we should "soon be out." One of them, with a practical turn of mind, recollecting50 that I had complained of my apartment, informed me that there were some beautiful cells at Holloway.
Having pocketed our belongings51, we were conducted through the subterranean52 passage I have several times mentioned to the great courtyard. The head-warder conversed53 with us very genially55, but when we emerged into daylight and faced the prison van drawn56 up to receive us, his manner changed. Holding a formidable document, he called out our names and descriptions, officially satisfying himself that we were the persons under sentence. I told him, with mock solemnity, that I had no doubt I was the George William Foote described on the blue paper, and my fellow prisoners gave him a similar assurance.
It was a critical moment. Will they, I thought, try to handcuff us? I hoped not, for I had resolved not to submit tamely to any gratuitous57 indignities58, and I should have felt it necessary to offer what resistance I could to such a flagrant insult. Happily the handcuffs were kept out of sight. One by one we ascended59 the steps, entered the narrow passage in the van, and huddled60 ourselves into the narrower boxes. They were so small that no ordinary-sized man could sit upon the little bench at the back. I was obliged to crouch61 on one ham diagonally, my shoulders stretching from corner to corner. Half a dozen holes were bored through the floor, and there was a space between the side of the box and the roof of the van, which sloped away like an eave. Probably the ventilation was ample, yet I felt stifled62, and so powerful is imagination that I breathed heavily and irregularly. But reason soon came to my assistance and allayed63 my apprehensions64, although a remnant of fancy still speculated on what would happen if the vehicle upset.
Presently the door was banged, and "Black Maria" started with her living freight. We had the conveyance, or rather its interior, all to ourselves. Surely the boxes we were pent in never held such company before. Three "blasphemers," who had never injured man, woman or child, were travelling to gaol under a collective sentence of two years' imprisonment, for no other crime than honestly criticising a dishonest creed65. We were going to spend weary days and months among the refuse of society. We were doomed66 to associate with the criminality which still curses civilisation67, after eighteen centuries of the gospel of redemption. Posterity68 would condemn1 our sentence as a crime, but meanwhile we were fated to suffer.
Rattle69, rattle, rattle! How the wretched machine did rattle! Even the roar of the streets we traversed was inaudible, quenched70 in the frightful71 din5. All I could do was to inspect the memorials of my predecessors72 in that box. The sides were scrawled73 over with their names (or nicknames) and sentences. Their brief observations had a jovial74 tone. I suppose the miserable75 passengers in that black ferry-boat to Hades are too full of care to indulge in such trifling76, and only wanton larrikins and old stagers employ their pencils in illustrating77 the planks78.
After a long drive we entered an archway and stopped. A heavy door was closed behind us, and another opened in front. The van moved forward a few yards and turned round. Then the door was opened, and looking out I saw the front of Holloway Gaol.
Several minutes elapsed before we descended79 from the prison van. During this interval I chatted freely with my fellow-prisoners, although we could not see each other. But I have always found, as one of George Meredith's characters says, that observation is perhaps the most abiding80 pleasure in life, and I watched with great amusement the antics of a sprucely-dressed young fellow who sat on the step behind, and held a facetious81 conversation with the pleasant officer who "delivered" us at Holloway. This natty82 blade was, I presumed, our driver. His talk was of horses and drinking, and I wondered how he obtained the money to purchase all the liquors which he boasted of having imbibed83 that morning. He seemed to possess a sort of right divine to enjoyment84 on this earth, and I felt strongly tempted85 to offer him the few shillings I had in my pocket. The money was useless to me in prison, but it would serve as buoyant air to the wings of this human butterfly. What a contrast between our lots! His head was untroubled with thought, he knew nothing of convictions (except legal ones), and sacrifices for principle had probably never entered within the range of his imagination. He chattered86 away like a garrulous87 daw, perched upon the step; while we three in the van were just leaving the sunlight of life for the darkness of imprisonment. Our devotion to principle seemed almost folly88, and our passion for reforming the world a species of madness. So it must have appeared eighteen centuries ago, when the Prophet of Nazareth stood in the hall of a palace in Jerusalem. The men and damsels who warmed themselves at the fire must have marvelled89 at the infatuation of Jesus as he courted the shadow of death.
When "Black Maria" disgorged her breakfast, we were ushered90 into the great hall of Holloway prison. The Deputy-Governor at once accosted91 us, and told us to wait, standing92 against the wall, until he could "see about us." Forgetting the rules and regulations, we resumed our conversation, until we attracted the attention of an underling, who marched up with a lordly air and sternly ordered us to stop talking. Presently two figures leisurely93 descended the flight of stone steps leading to the offices and the interior of the prison. I recognised one of these as the Governor of Newgate. He had evidently come to introduce us. His companion was Colonel Milman, the Governor of Holloway. After a few minutes' conversation, of which I inferred from their looks that we were the object, they parted, and Colonel Milman then advanced towards us with a genial54 smile. He busied himself about us in the most hospitable94 manner, as though we were ornaments95 to the establishment. Interrogating96 us as to our occupations, he found that only Mr. Ramsey was acquainted with any mechanical work. In his younger days he had practised the noble art of St. Crispin, but he found that no shoes were made in the place, and he had little taste for cobbling. Relying on some information he had received in Newgate, he inquired, with an air of childlike sincerity97, whether there was not some work to do in the Governor's garden. Colonel Milman smiled expressively98 as he answered that he was "afraid not."
The gallant99 Governor then went into an office, and as I wanted to speak to him before we were marched off, I walked in after him. "Hi!" exclaimed the officious underling, "you mustn't go in there." But I went in, nevertheless, followed by the fussy100 officer, who was quietly told by the Governor that he "needn't trouble." I explained to Colonel Milman that my position was peculiar101. "Yes," he said, "I know; I saw you at the Old Bailey yesterday," and his look expressed the rest. I then stated that, as there was no Court of Criminal Appeal, I wished to make representations to the Home Office as to the character our trial and the almost unprecedented102 nature of our sentence; in particular, I wished the Home Secretary to say whether he would sanction our being classed with common thieves for a press offence. I was told that I could have an official form for this purpose; and, thanking the Governor, I withdrew to join my companions.
Let me here thank Colonel Milman for his unvarying kindness. During the whole of my imprisonment he never once addressed me in any other way than he would have addressed me outside; and although he had to carry out a harsh sentence, it was obvious that he shrank from the duty. But this eulogium is too personal. I hasten, therefore, to say that I never heard Colonel Milman speak harshly to a prisoner, or saw a forbidding look on his fine face. One of nature's gentlemen, he could hardly be uncivil to the lowest of the low.
Colonel Milman always dressed well, and the little color he always affected103 was in harmony with his exuberant104 figure. It was refreshing105 to see him occasionally in one's weariness of the dingy106 prison. He usually stood at the wing-gate as the men filed in from exercise, and answered their salutes107, with a word for this one and a smile for that. One day I heard a handsome eulogy108 on him by a prisoner. He was standing in the open air outside the gate. It was a pleasant summer morning, and he was radiantly happy. A man behind me was evidently struck by the Governor's appearance, for I heard him mutter to his neighbor, "Good old boy, ain't he?" "Yes," said the other, "you're right." "Fat, ain't he?" rejoined number one. "Yes," said number two, "like a top. It do yer good to see somebody as ain't thin."
From the great hall of Holloway prison we were conducted through a passage under the staircase to the basement of the reception wing. Our pockets were emptied, but not searched, and every article stowed away in a little bag. One by one we went into an office, where a clerkly official wrote our descriptions in a book. "What religion?" he inquired, when he came to the theological department. "None," I replied. "What!" he rejoined, "surely you're Catholic or Protestant or something." Then, with a flourish of the pen, and an air of finality, he put the question again more decisively, "What religion?" "None," I said. He stared, gave me up as a bad job, and wrote down "Religion none." That extremely succinct109 description figured for twelve months on the card outside my cell door, and I have heard prisoners speculating as to what sort of religion "none" was. It was the name of a sect110 they had never heard of.
The prisoners' cards, affixed111 to their cell doors, and containing their name, age, crime, sentence, class and creed, were of two colors—white (the emblem112 of purity) for the Protestants, and red (the symbol of sin) for the Catholics. These criminal members of the two great divisions of Christendom, like their better or more fortunate co-religionists out of doors, do not mix in their devotions. They worship God at different times, although, alas113! the same building has to serve for both. No special color has been found requisite114 for Freethinkers, who seldom trouble the prison officials, although this fact is only another proof of their uncommon115 obstinacy116; for it is clear that, according to their principles, they ought to fill our gaols117, yet they perversely118 refrain from those crimes which every principle of consistency119 obliges them to commit.
After this ceremony we were conducted upstairs to our cells in the reception wing, to await an opportunity of washing and changing our clothes. We passed several prisoners at work in the corridors. All were silent and stolid120, and I could hardly resist the impression that I was in a lunatic asylum121. We were handed over to a red-haired and red-bearded warder, who locked us up in separate cells. Before closing my door, he asked whether I was a German, and had any connection with Herr Most. I explained that the Freiheit and the Freethinker were very different papers. "What's your sentence?" he said. "Twelve months." "Whew! but it's a long time." Yes, my red-headed friend, you were quite right. It was indeed a long time!
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1
condemn
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| vt.谴责，指责；宣判(罪犯)，判刑 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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postpone
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| v.延期，推迟 | |
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tepid
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| adj.微温的，温热的，不太热心的 | |
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thronged
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| v.成群，挤满( throng的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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appreciative
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| adj.有鉴赏力的，有眼力的；感激的 | |
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hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ignominious
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| adj.可鄙的，不光彩的，耻辱的 | |
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repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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inert
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| adj.无活动能力的，惰性的；迟钝的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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imps
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| n.（故事中的）小恶魔( imp的名词复数 )；小魔鬼；小淘气；顽童 | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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22
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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clotted
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| adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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utensil
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| n.器皿，用具 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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robust
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| adj.强壮的，强健的，粗野的，需要体力的，浓的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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doggedly
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| adv.顽强地，固执地 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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shuffled
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| v.洗（纸牌）( shuffle的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚步走；粗心地做；摆脱尘世的烦恼 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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40
pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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41
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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43
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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44
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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45
worthies
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| 应得某事物( worthy的名词复数 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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46
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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47
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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48
conveyance
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| n.(不动产等的)转让，让与；转让证书；传送；运送；表达；（正）运输工具 | |
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49
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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50
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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51
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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52
subterranean
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| adj.地下的，地表下的 | |
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53
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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54
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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55
genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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56
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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57
gratuitous
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| adj.无偿的，免费的；无缘无故的，不必要的 | |
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58
indignities
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| n.侮辱，轻蔑( indignity的名词复数 ) | |
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59
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
huddled
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| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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61
crouch
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| v.蹲伏，蜷缩，低头弯腰；n.蹲伏 | |
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62
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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63
allayed
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| v.减轻，缓和( allay的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apprehensions
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| 疑惧 | |
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creed
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| n.信条；信念，纲领 | |
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doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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posterity
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| n.后裔，子孙，后代 | |
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69
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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illustrating
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| 给…加插图( illustrate的现在分词 )； 说明； 表明； （用示例、图画等）说明 | |
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planks
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| （厚）木板( plank的名词复数 )； 政纲条目，政策要点 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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facetious
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| adj.轻浮的，好开玩笑的 | |
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natty
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| adj.整洁的，漂亮的 | |
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imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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garrulous
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| adj.唠叨的，多话的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ushered
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| v.引，领，陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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accosted
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| v.走过去跟…讲话( accost的过去式和过去分词 )；跟…搭讪；（乞丐等）上前向…乞讨；（妓女等）勾搭 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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interrogating
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| n.询问技术v.询问( interrogate的现在分词 )；审问；（在计算机或其他机器上）查询 | |
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sincerity
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| n.真诚，诚意；真实 | |
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expressively
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| ad.表示(某事物)地；表达地 | |
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gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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fussy
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| adj.为琐事担忧的，过分装饰的，爱挑剔的 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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102
unprecedented
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| adj.无前例的，新奇的 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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107
salutes
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| n.致敬，欢迎，敬礼( salute的名词复数 )v.欢迎，致敬( salute的第三人称单数 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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108
eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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109
succinct
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| adj.简明的，简洁的 | |
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110
sect
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| n.派别，宗教，学派，派系 | |
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111
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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113
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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114
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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115
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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116
obstinacy
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| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
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117
gaols
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| 监狱，拘留所( gaol的名词复数 ) | |
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118
perversely
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| adv. 倔强地 | |
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119
consistency
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| n.一贯性，前后一致，稳定性；(液体的)浓度 | |
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120
stolid
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| adj.无动于衷的，感情麻木的 | |
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121
asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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