The Silent Gate: A Voyage Into Prison

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Contents

CHAP. PAGK

I. — The Release of Benjamin Cudd . . i

II.— "Turkey" 31

II

It is written in the Rules, that a prisoner who breaks the furniture or makes ribbons of his clothing may be punished with the "cat." Benjamin had committed both these crimes at once, and of all forms of retribution, in or out of prison, the " cat " was the one he dreaded most. Just at that time there walked, or shuffled, at the rear of Benjamin's work-party a man whose ankles were hampered by cross^irons, and who wore a parti-colourcd dress of Uliitk ftnd drab; he had come under Iht? whip for {Hlihiny; ti brick at a warda:, and Benjamin was sure that the whites of the man's eyes had turned yellow since his punishment

So he sat and quaked in a dark cell not his own, and wondered when the visiting justice would come. Since his tantrum on the previous day, he was decorated in quite a new style. The ridiculous little figure looked more than ever ridiculous muffled in the suit of No. i Navy Canvas, which is the particular badge of the destroyer of clothing. Then, since he had done wanton violence to the furniture of his cell, it was reasonably urged that in another fit he might turn his hands against himself (and in the darkness of the punishment cell sudden crises of madness will sometimes come), so the body-belt had been added to the canvas suit. The body-belt, weighing about four pounds, is of double leather, sewn together, and fastened by a lock round the waist, with steel wristlets at the sides, in which Benjamin's wrists were secured. Belted and handcuffed, and cased in canvas, he sat in the dark, terrified, waiting for the coming of the man who had power over the *' cat"

But the man came on this very day, and held his court, and went away, and Benjamin was not set before him.

All night he lay on a plank on the broad of his back, still held by the wrists, wide awake, saying to himself, " I wonder if he'll come to-morrer ? "

No light came with the day, but Benjamin knew it was breakfast-time when a loaf of brown bread was pushed in through the trap in the door. He thought of the other prisoners turning out for the day, putting their cells to rights, and being mustered for chapel. Oh, what happiness to be just rolling out of one's hammock, hands free, and nothing worse to expect than the day's routine on the works! Those other chaps had nothing to complain of ; no one had anything to complain of who was not waiting to be brought before the visiting justice. By-and-by the door was unlocked, but he knew it was too early yet for the siunmons that was always singing in his ear.

" Like a stroll, my boy } " said the warder. " Come along o' me."

Benjamin understood that he was to be exercised, and he went after the warder, blinking in the daylight, into a small, high-walled yard, empty and

THE RELEASE OF BENJAMIN CUDD. ii

perfectiy bare. Here prisoners undergoing special punishment were brought for an hour's exercise in the morning, one at a time: and here Benjamin trudged to and fro under the eye of the warder, who stood stiffly against the iron wicket It was a stinging forenoon of mid-October, not a gleam from the ashen sky; the warder had his top-coat on, but Benjamin's No. i canvas let the cold in, and his pinioned wrists felt numb.

Every time he passed the warder he looked at him furtively ; he wanted to ask if the visiting justice were commg that day, but he had never had to do with this warder, and was afraid to speak. He had not slept, he had not tasted his bread, he was dull and weak and cold, and the fear almost paralysed him.

The Rules being what they are, an officer of the prison can do little for a prisoner under special punishment, but Benjamin's warder — a married man, with children whom he doted on — observed the colour of his wrists. He had bought his youngest a pair of woollen mittens the night before.

"Hold on!" he said.

Benjamin stood dumbly, and the warder went up to him.

" Cold at the wrists, ain't you ? " said he, and Benjamin looked and nodded.

" It wouldn't be much harm if you answered civil," jerked the warder, " but you're in for a dose of it this time" — Benjamin quaked again — "and I can make allowances."

While speaking he had been unlocking the wristlets, and Benjamin's arms were suddenly free.

" There ! " said the warder, " now clap your hands to your sides and do a trot. You'll be warm all right soon. Law, man, you ain't so bad! You might be in the leg-irons. Now do a bit of a double round the yard."

Benjamin was still voiceless, but his goggle eyes held a kind of gratitude.

" Time's up ! " called the warder, presently. " Slip your dukes in again, my lad;" and Benjamin, strangely and wonderfully obedient, thrust his hands and wrists through the steel circlets.

"Take my advice and stow that toke," said the warder, pointing to the loaf of bread that had tumbled from the trap-door to the floor of the cell. " Want to see the doctor ? "

"Don't send the doctor! Don't send me the doctor, sir ! " said Benjamin very quick. " Tm all right, sir, an* thenk you, sir."

" Law, man ! The doctor isn't the visiting justice," said the warder.

No, he wasn't ; but he came just before him, when the " cat " was threatening. The doctor had to sound you, and punch you, and probe you, and feel your pulse and heart, to make sure that you were fit for it Benjamin had often sent for the doctor, when he wanted to try a fake on him and fetch the farm ; * but he didn't wish for him now.

The doctor came, however.

" Medical orf 'cer ! " said the warder, as he threw the door open; and Benjamin scrambled up to attention, frightened almost to sickness.

" Let's have a look at you ! " said the doctor. " Come out here into the corridor. Take his wrists out of the bracelets. Now, stand up square, and no kid."

Among the lags, the doctor was the most popular * Get into hospital : the convict's paradise.

X4 THE SILENT GATE.

officer in the prison, but he had never been known to let off a man who was sound for the " cat."

He jerked up Benjamin's chin, felt his pulse, and sounded him over the heart. Benjamin could almost hear the chief warder's " One ! " for the first stroke of the "cat," governor and doctor standing by, and the man with the whip measuring his distance.

" Sleep last night 1 " said the doctor.

"No, sir."

" Eaten your bread 1 "

" No, sir."

"What's your game?"

Except for his terror, Benjamin would have whimpered something; but the terror kept him dumb.

The doctor knew that he was expecting to be whipped, and saw that he was silly from excess of fright

" Take the belt off," he said to the warder.

Benjamin thought they were getting him ready for the triangles, and his great head wagged foolishly on his little body as he said :

" 'As 'e come, sir ? "

THE RELEASE OP BENJAMIN CUDD. 15

"Who? "said the doctor.

"You know, sir — visitin* justice."

"Yes; he's come and gone."

Benjamin's knees knocked. " Oh, sir ! " he cried. " Don't play with me ! Ain't I goin' to get bashed ? "

" You're in luck again, Benjy ! " said the doctor, as he turned out of the cell.

Benjamin glimmered at the warder. Was prison such a heaven as this ?

" You 'eard *im say it, sir, didn't you ? " he asked.

But now that the tension was over, the warder was on duty.

" Sit down, my lad, and eat your bread," said he.

When the door was locked again, Benjamin groped on the floor for his loaf of bread, and carried it to his plank bed, and mumbled it greedily. He had never felt so happy in his life. In the evening a mattress and a bolster were thrown in to him, and then came a cup of hot cocoa, good fat stuff, and Benjamin wished^ in the black stone cell, that he might never get out of prison.

III

Perhaps no one had ever had quite such a narrow squeak of it. But the governor had well and truly pondered that dark and stunted case, and had decided not to put Benjamin back for the visiting justice. Benjamin had given "old Gingertail" (a shocking name for one of the smartest and best-looking men in the service) a great deal of trouble, but he thought there was probably something at the back of that moment's fury, for in his right senses — ^as far as his senses were ever right — this lag had always been very wary in offence. The governor could seldom be certain that he got the naked truth from a warder who reported a troublesome prisoner, and when the prisoner rebelled under a sentence which was not excessive, as the penalties of prison went, the governor had his private mind upon the matter. He knew that nearly any warder who had had charge of Benjamin would report him for almost anything, but he remembered also that Benjamin had generally

THE RELEASE OP BENJAMIN CUDD. 17

taken his punishment^ if not like a Iamb, at least unlike a tiger. So it was that, the case being weightily considered of the governor, Benjamin was not set before the visiting justice, in which event, had the doctor passed him, he would certainly have got the order to strip.

But the boat of Benjamin the lucky was yet a long, long way from shore. If he had been a day and a night in hell, he was now to be translated to purgatory.

They took him out of chokey, but only to immure him in a " special," which is just one remove in quality from the den he had spent that night of terror in. But Benjamin had been in the specials before, and entered briskly, without giving cheek. He was in love with the prison just then, and only thought what a good, kind man the governor was.

** I can do speshuls all right enough," he said to himself.

Specials, nevertheless, want a good deal of ** doing," as Benjamin might have remembered, if he had not been in such a sweet state of mind. They don't let you speak ever such a little word in the specials, and woe betide you if you are caught trying to telegraph through the wall. Then the graft ^ in specials is very unlovely. In your own cell, if you have a bit of oakum-pickmg to do, they give you a little thing called a fiddle to ravel it out with; in the specials you get oakum varied with crank most of the time, and the picking is done with the imassisted dukes. Exercise is not much better than graft, for in the penal class — ^which was Benjamin's at present — ^there's never a creature to look at in the yard except the screw,^ and he is not often a " soft " one. For a long sentence in the specials, the diet is generally No. 2; eight ounces of bread for breakfast, a pint of stirabout for dinner, and eight ounces of bread for supper.

All this is very chastening after a time, but Benjamin sat over his oakum day by day through hard October, and still said to himself that he could " do speshuls right enough." The world of felonry wagged on all round him, but not an echo of it found his ear; they give you in the specials the very fullest benefit of your own society. * Labour. ' Warder*

When Benjamin stated, quite politely, and not at all as a grievance, that his fingers were getting raw with the oakum, they put him on the crank.

He had been deprived of his book from the library, and that was something of a loss, for he had chanced on a work called the " Popular Educator," which had a lot of lovely pictures, including a cut of Bamet Fair, where he had spent some glorious hours.

He had his books of devotion, to be sure, but Benjamin was not a pious man, and his reading, when there were no pictures, was principally an exercise in spelling. He had, moreover, been disappointed in the Bible. Long Dicky the Dean had whispered him on the works some remarkable stories which purported to be Sacred Writ, and in his cell one night, before lights were turned out, Benjamin had spelled over some passages of Scripture, regarding it as an improper work. But his curiosity was defeated, and as he returned the volume to the shelf, he thought what a slap-up wide man the Dean must be to find such nuggets in the Bible. Perhaps — and this seemed likely — ^the Dean had made a private

Bible for hisself.

1> io The silent gate.

From time to time the doctor came, but Benjamin said he was "workin* through it all right, sir, thenk you, sir " ; and he kept on. He knew that, out of the twelve hundred lags in the prison, there must be a dozen or two doing their turn in the specials, and he thought he was getting on very well.

During twenty days he did his graft steadily, and in those twenty days he had scarcely spoken twenty words. Then he began to feel that he was losing himself a little. He caught himself chewing his oakum when he ought to have been picking it. It had a nasty taste, but it gave the palate something to do between the six hours from bread to stirabout, and the next six hours from stirabout to bread. At night he had odd fancies that they were going to let him out of prison on what the Queen is made to call a free pardon. He thought the neighbourhood of Barnet would be a nice place to settle in, because of the Fair. He had a notion that he was going to be well-to-do, and that he wouldn't have to be a hook any more. It was the first time in his life that he had imagined any better existence than a hook's.

The twenty days straddled out into forty-two, and Benjamin, though he did not know it, had dwindled a good deal. He had taken to sucking his sleeve instead of chewing his oakum, though he had left off being very hungry. He fancied he was no longer doing a full day's graft, and was surprised to see, when he returned to cell after his hour's exercise, that he was always credited with six marks on the card outside his cell, which are the most that can be earned in the penal class.

Then, without expecting it, he found himself back one night in his own cell It seemed like getting into a hoteL The tins, and the stool, and the tiny deal table looked wonderfully smart, and there was the hammock to unsling and fix up — a hammock with sheets and a pillow — and the gas was burning in the wire guard just as if you'd ordered it He had a pint of cocoa for supper that night, and felt almost as good as he had done the day they let him oft his flogging. He thought it was want of use, and not weakness, that made it a kind of effort to nip into the hammock at the signal for lights out.

"I knew rd work them speshuls!" he said

"*Sakes! they've got a noo reset f for skilly. I'll finish this three year on me 'ead ! "

The last sentence was in the nature of a flourish, for Benjamin was still possessed by the notion that they were going to let him out

The change of scene was more pantomimic than ever the next day, for instead of being taken in a thick slop coat to the works he was marched into the nice warm room of the stocking-knitters. In the prison they call the stocking-knitters' party the Old Women, but nobody minds that, for it is a very slack and cosy berth. Benjamin took his place in a row of prisoners — ^most of the rows were old and white-headed — ^who sat on their haunches and knitted silently, under the eye of a warder at a desk. He chuckled over his work.

"Gawd! This here's graft, this is," he said to himself.

His face was as grey as the November sky, the skin drawn over the bones, and the big goggle eyes, more prominent than ever in their shrunken frame, had as much speculation as the eyes of a mask. But Benjamin looked so pleased with himself.

The stocking-knitters had a superstition th^t no one who joined on Friday would stay long with them. If he went in as a convalescent from hospital, he got well soon and was put on hard graft again, or he had a relapse and died. If he were passed in as the result of a clever fake, he was sure to be in trouble by-and-by and turned out But Benjamin, who had become an Old Woman on a Friday, sat in his row with the other shom-heads, and from the odd little airs that he gave himself it might have been thought that his friend, the governor, had put him there in charge of the party, and that the warder was merely Benjamin's deputy.

As an artist at the craft over which the warder presided, his success, it must be confessed, was slow and indifferent. The needles — four to keep going at once — ^performed wonderfully; Benjamin, whose waking dreams were still with Bamet Fair, called them a " bloomin' merry-go-round" For a secondrate hook, he had a pretty light touch; but four years on the works take the wits out of the digits, and when it came to "stocking-knitting" he found that his fingers were all thumbs. But he toiled over his task as a play, with the steadfastness of a child learning a new game. From time to time he wondered how long they would let him stay there, but he had a steady belief that he should never go back to the works. Then he thought about his release, but the idea of an escape never entered his mind Neither did it enter his mind that he had still three years to serve; he was quite possessed by the notion that a way to freedom was to be found for him — all of which may serve to show that Benjamin's terror, and his season of penance in the " speshuls," had produced effects. The Old Women, seeing him so perky and good-humoured, and knowing something of his character in the prison, concluded that he was coming his tricks again; but they thought it mattered little, as he would soon be leaving them, for had he not joined on a Friday }

Few of them were known to Benjamin, who, in the course of his laggings, had not often found himself in such select criminal society. Whether his stay in prison were long or short, it was rare indeed for him to rise to the first class, and these were nearly all first-class men, with the elegant blue facings to their jackets. They never gave cheek or trouble to the warder; many of them being indeed old, sorry creatures, doing their last lagging, knitting themselves with tired fingers and bent, shaven heads into a grave within the prison walls. There were a few middle-aged and some young men, but they did not represent the able-bodied population of the place, which works all day in the open, and may on necessity be starved and whipped into obedience.

The big head of Benjamin wagged solemnly over his needles amid these ghosts, scare-crows, and wastrels of the " college of iniquity." He was quite unconscious of the concern he aroused ; he did not know that the warder watched him: often, and wished him elsewhere, expecting sorrow from him ; or that the Old Women were half-afraid of him, and halfinclined to stir him up to something.

Towards the end of November the sky one morning broke into sudden sunshine, and there came a rush of mild, sweet air through the stone yard where the stocking-knitters were tramping round at exercise.

THE SILENT GATE.

Heads were lifted to the pale blue and gold above, and even the very old men quivered at the smelt of the gentle air. The walls of the yard were too high for any glimpse beyond, but it seemed as if the shades of the prison-house had scattered for a moment owing to some beautiful change in the world without. The sun and the pleasant air lasted through the hour of exercise. One prisoner, a thin, palHd man, whose legs in the red-and-black stockings were a jest among the party, was seen to be crying on the way back to the knitting-room. Benjamin, going in a kind of amble at the tail of the gang, looked utterly blissful, staring wide-eyed at the sky, as if he did greatly desire it

Work was given out, and in a few minutes the needles were chcking as usual.

It wanted about an hour of dinner, when Benjamin, the end man of his row, laid down his needles and ball of worsted, passed a hand over his eyes, and stood up. A foolish happiness illumined his dull, pinched face, and he chuckled audibly, the big head on the dwarfed body moving slowly from side to side. Then he spoke*

"I knowed it was cominV* he said "Chaps, I've got that free pard'n."

The room tittered. This was the hour expected of the Old Women ; Benjamin had not disappointed them — ^he was coming a new game.

He began to walk down the room towards the wardei?*s desk, which was just against the door.

"Sit down!" said the warder sternly. "Where do you think you're going ? "

"Don't stop ;me, sir," answered Benjamin pleasantly. "I've got me pard'n all right I'm a-goin* where it's three shies a penny, an' I bet you knows where that is, sir."

The warder sprang to his feet, and in the silence of the room the toppling over of his stool sounded like a crash.

But Benjamin was quick too.

For a moment he had halted, evidently not quite imderstanding the check he had received; then, as the warder rose, Benjamin's features imderwent the horrid transformation they had done in the cell, and with the same demoniacal scream his wasted hands — ^nerved for the instant — ^went like a flash at the

2S THE SILENT GATE.

officer's throat It was the supreme effort of madness, but it sufficed

A dozen prisoners threw themselves upon the pair, but Benjamin, who had got his prey to earth, his knees planted, and both hands riveted on the throat, was not to be loosened.

The warder's frame was convulsed from head to foot, and then he lay still.

" Lemme go ! " said Benjamin, and he got up quietly.

" There 'e is ! " he continued, pointing down at the dead warder, " You don't know 'im, mates, but I does. It's the bobby what got me this laggin'. I see 'im d'rec'ly 'e got orf of the stool. That's all right, pals. You don't need ter bodder. I got me pard'n."

One of the convicts dashed at the door, pulled it open, and shouted " Murder ! "

The sun streamed in through the doorway, and Benjamin stared up at the blue.

" Time I was movin*, pals," he said " They starts the fun abouts twel' o'clock^ an' it's a step from 'ere to Bamet"

Benjamin is very well tended in the Criminal Lunatic Asylum, that celebrated place ; and if you were ever allowed there as a visitor he would spot you at once, ask if you had any message for him from his friend Cap'en Lambert, and insist on showing you round the Fair. It is always Fair Day to Benjy when a visitor comes.

io The silent gate.

From time to time the doctor came, but Benjamin said he was "workin* through it all right, sir, thenk you, sir " ; and he kept on. He knew that, out of the twelve hundred lags in the prison, there must be a dozen or two doing their turn in the specials, and he thought he was getting on very well.

During twenty days he did his graft steadily, and in those twenty days he had scarcely spoken twenty words. Then he began to feel that he was losing himself a little. He caught himself chewing his oakum when he ought to have been picking it. It had a nasty taste, but it gave the palate something to do between the six hours from bread to stirabout, and the next six hours from stirabout to bread At night he had odd fancies that they were going to let him out of prison on what the Queen is made to call a free pardon. He thought the neighbourhood of Bamet would be a nice place to settle in, because of the Fair. He had a notion that he was going to be well-to-do, and that he wouldn't have to be a hook any more. It was the first time in his life that he had imagined any better existence than a hook's.

THE RELEASE OF BENJAMIN CUDD. ai

The twenty days straddled out into forty-two, and Benjamin, though he did not know it, had dwindled a good deal. He had taken to sucking his sleeve instead of chewing his oakum, though he had left off being very hungry. He fancied he was no longer doing a full day's graft, and was surprised to see, when he returned to cell after his hour's exercise, that he was always credited with six marks on the card outside his cell, which are the most that can be earned in the penal class.

Then, without expecting it, he found himself back one night in his own cell. It seemed like getting into a hotel. The tins, and the stool, and the tiny deal table looked wonderfully smart, and there was the hammock to unsling and fix up — a hammock with sheets and a pillow — ^and the gas was burning in the wire guard just as if you'd ordered it. He had a pint of cocoa for supper that night, and felt almost as good as he had done the day they let him oft his flogging. He thought it was want of use, and not weakness, that made it a kind of effort to nip into the hammock at the signal for lights out.

"I knew I'd work them speshuls!" he said

" *Sakes ! they've got a noo reseep for skilly. TU finish this three year on me 'ead ! "

The last sentence was in the nature of a flourish, for Benjamin was still possessed by the notion that they were going to let him out

The change of scene was more pantomimic than ever the next day, for instead of being taken in a thick slop coat to the works he was marched into the nice warm room of the stocking-knitters. In the prison they call the stocking-knitters' party the Old Women, but nobody minds that, for it is a very slack and cosy berth. Benjamin took his place in a row of prisoners — ^most of the rows were old and white-headed — ^who sat on their haunches and knitted silently, under the eye of a warder at a desk. He chuckled over his work.

"Gawd! This here's graft, this is," he said to himself.

His face was as grey as the November sky, the skin drawn over the bones, and the big goggle eyes, more prominent than ever in their shrunken frame, had as much speculation as the eyes of a mask. But Benjamin looked so pleased with himself.

The stocking-knitters had a superstition th^t no one who joined on Friday would stay long with them. If he went in as a convalescent from hospital, he got well soon and was put on hard graft again, or he had a relapse and died. If he were passed in as the result of a clever fake, he was sure to be in trouble by-and-by and turned out But Benjamin, who had become an Old Woman on a Friday, sat in his row with the other shom-heads, and from the odd little airs that he gave himself it might have been thought that his friend, the governor, had put him there in charge of the party, and that the warder was merely Benjamin's deputy.