 CHAPTER 22 Mr. Eden, when he reappeared in the prison, was sallow and his limbs feeble, but his fatal disease was baffled, and a few words are due to explain how this happened. The Melbourne doctor came back with Susan within twenty hours of her departure. She ushered him into Mr. Eden's room with blushing joy and pride. The friend shook hands. Mr. Eden thanked him for coming, and the doctor cut him short by demanding an accurate history of his disorder and the remedies that had been applied. Mr. Eden related the rise and progress of his complaint, and meantime the doctor solved the other query by smelling a battalion of empty files. The old story, said he with a cheerful grin, you were weak, therefore they gave you things to weaken you. You could not put so much nourishment as usual into your body, therefore they have been taking the strength out. Lastly, the coats of your stomach were irritated by your disorder, so they have raked it like blazes. This is the mill round of the old medicine, from irritation to inflammation, from inflammation to mortification, and to cease of the patient. Now instead of irritating the irritated spot, suppose we try a little counter irritation with all my heart. The doctor then wetted a towel with cold water, rung it half dry, and applied it to Mr. Eden's stomach. This experiment he repeated four times with a fresh towel at intervals of twenty minutes. He had his bed made in Mr. Eden's room. Tell me if you feel feverish. Toward morning Mr. Eden tossed and turned, and the doctor rising found him dry and hot and feverish. Then he wetted two towels, took the sheets off his own bed, and placed one wet towel on a blanket. Then he made his patient strip naked and lie down on this towel, which reached from the nape of his neck to his loins. Ah! cried Mr. Eden. Horrible! Then he put the other towel over him in front. Ah! That is worse! You are a bold man with your remedies! I shiver to the bone! You won't shiver long. He laid hold of one edge of the blanket and pulled it over him with a strong quick pull, and tucked it under him. The same with the other side, and now Mr. Eden was in a blanket prison, a regular straight waistcoat, his arms pinned at his sides. Two more blankets were placed loosely over him. Mighty! Fine doctor, but, uh, suppose a fly or nat should settle off my face? Hmm, call me and I'll take him off. In about three quarters of an hour, Dr. Goulson came to his bedside again. How are you now? In a lesion. Are you shivering? Nothing of the kind. Are you hot? Nothing of the sort. I am a lesion. Please, retreat. Let no mere mortals approach. Come not near our fairy king, murmured the sick man. I am albaran, slumbering on tepid roses in the garden whence I take my name. Purd are divine, mixing a creed or two. Well, you must come out of this paradise for the present. You would not be such a monstrous to propose it? Despite of his remonstrances, he was unpacked, rubbed dry, and returned to his own bed, where he subclassedly till nine o'clock. The next day, fresh applications of wet claws to the stomach, and in the evening one of the doctor's mermidins arrived from Malvern. The doctor gave him full and particular instructions. The next morning Mr. Eden was packed again. He delighted in the operation, but remonstred it against the term. Packed, said he to them, is that the way to speak of a paradisical process under which fever and sorrow fly, and calm complacency steals over mind and body? A slight diminution of all the unfavorable symptoms, and a great increase of appetite relieved the doctor's anxiety, so far that he left him under white's charge, so was the mermidin called. Do not alter your diet, it is simple and musilaginous, but increase the quantity by degrees. He postponed his departure till midnight. Up to the present time he had made rather light of the case, and as for the danger he had poo-pooed it with good-humored contempt. Just before he went, he said, Well, Frank, I don't mind telling you now that I am very glad you sent for me, and I'll tell you why, 48 hours more of irritating medicines and no human skill could have saved your life. Ah, my dear friend, you are my good angel. You could have no conception how valuable my life is. Oh, yes I can. And you have saved that life. Yes, I am weak still, but I feel I shall live. You have cured me. In popular language I have, but between ourselves nobody ever cures anybody. Nature cures all that are cured. But I pad a nature on the back, the others hit her over the head with the bludgeons of brickbats. And now you are going, I must not keep you, or I shall compromise other lives. Well go and fulfill your mission, but first think, is there anything I can do in part return for such a thing as this, old friend? Only one I can think of, outlive me, old friend. A warm and tender grasp on the hand on this, and the Melbourne doctor jumped into a fly, and the railway soon whirled him into Worcester. His murmur didn't remained behind, and carried out his chief's orders with inflexible severity, unsoffened by blandishments, unshaken by threats. In concert with Susan, he closed the door upon all harassing communications. One day Evans came to tell the Invalid how the prisoners were maltreated. Susan received him, wormed from him his errand, and told him Mr. Eden was too ill to see him, which was what my French brother-in-law Unissan de Massange, I, a fib. A slow but steady cure was affected by these means, applications of warm water in various ways to the skin, simple diet, and quiet. A great appetite soon came. He ate twice as much as he had before the new treatment, and would have eaten twice as much as he did, but the murmur didn't let him. Whenever he was feverish, the murmur didn't packed him, and in half an hour the fever was gone. His cheeks began to fill, his eyes to clear and brighten, only his limbs could not immediately recover their strength. As he recovered, his anxiety to be back among his prisoners increased daily, but neither Susan nor the murmur didn't would hear of it. They acted in concert and stuck at nothing to cure their patient. They assured him all was going on well in the prison, and they meant well, but for all that, every lie great or small, is the brink of a precipice the depth of which nothing but omniscience can fathom. He believed them, yet he was uneasy, and the uneasiness increased with his returning strength. At last one morning, happening to awake earlier than usual, he stole a march on his nurses, and taking his stick walked out and tottered into the jail. He found Joseph's dead under the fangs of haws and the whole prison groaning. Now the very day his symptoms became more favorable, it so happened that he received a few lines from the home office that had perhaps aided his recovery by the hopes they inspired. The matter of your last communication is forwarded to the Inspector of Prisons. He is instructed to inquire strictly into your statements and reports to this office. The short note concluded with an intimation that the tone in which Mr. Eden had conveyed his remonstraces was intemperate, out of place, and without precedent. Mr. Eden was rejoiced. The Inspector of Prisons was a salaried officer of the Crown, enlightened by a large comparison of many prisons, and, reciting at a distance, was not open to the corrupting influences of association and personal sympathy with the Governor, as were the county magistrates. Day after day Mr. Eden rose in hope that the day would not pass without the promised visit from the Inspector of Prisons. Day after day no Inspector. At last Mr. Eden wrote to him to inquire when he was coming. The letter traveled about after him, and after considerable delay came his answer. It was to this effect that he was instructed to examine into charges made against the Governor of Jail, but that he had no instructions to make in a regular visit for that purpose. His progress would bring him this year to Jail in six weeks' time when he should act on his instructions, but these did not justify him in varying from the routine of his circuit. Six weeks is not long to wait for help in the matter of life and death, thought the 80 pounders, the clerks who execute England. Three days of the six weeks had scarce elapsed when two prisoners were driven a step each farther than their wretched fellow sufferers who were to follow them in a week or two. Of these, one mild quiet docile boy was driven to self-slaughter, and another one of the best-natured rogues in the place was driven to manslaughter. This letter incident Mr. Eden prevented. I will presently relate how. It was not by postponing his interference for six weeks. When Mr. Eden rose from his knees beside the slaughtered boy, he went home at once then he wrote to the Home Secretary. On the envelope he wrote private and inside to this effect. Two months ago I informed you officially that the prisoners are daily assaulted, starved and maltreated to the danger of their lives by the Governor of Jail. I demanded of you an inquiry on the spot, and reply you evaded my demand and proposed to refer me to the visiting justices. In answer I declined these men's for referees on two grounds, v. that I had lodged an appeal with a higher jurisdiction than theirs, and that they were confederates of the criminal. And to enforce the letter objection I included your proposed referees in my charges, and once more demanded of you in the Queen's name an examination of her unworthy servants on the instant and on the spot. On this occasion I warned you in these words. Here are a hundred and eighty souls to whose correction, care, and protection the state is pledged. No one of these lives is safe a single day, and for every head that falls from this hour I hold you responsible to God and the state. Surely these were no light words, yet they fell light on you. In answer you promised us the Inspector of Prisons, but you gave him no instructions to come to us. You fooled away time when time was human life. Read once more my words of warning, and then read these. This morning a boy of fifteen was done to death by Mr. Hawes. Of his death you are not guiltless. You were implored to prevent it. You could have prevented it, and you did not prevent it. The victim of jail cruelty and the male administration and government offices lies dead in his cell. In three days I shall commit his body to the dust, but his memory never, until he is avenged, and those who are in process of being murdered like him receive the protection of the state. If in three days between this boy's murder and his burial your direct representative and agent does not come here and examine his jail and the sift acts of those who govern it, on the fourth day I lay the whole case before Her Majesty the Queen and the British Nation by publishing it in all the journals. Then I shall tell Her Majesty that, having thrice appealed in vain to her representatives, I am driven to appeal to herself. With this I shall print the evidence that I have thrice offered you of this jail or felonies and their sanguinary results. That lady has a character. One of its strong, unmistakable features is a real, tender, active humanity. I read characters. It is a part of my business. And believe me, this lady, once informed of the crimes done in her name, will repudiate and abhor, alike her hirelings cruelty and her clerks and secretaries indifference to suffering and slaughter. Nor will the public here unmoved the awful tale. Shame will be showered on all connected with these black deeds, even on those who can but be charged with conniving at them. To be exposed to national horror on the same column with the greatest felon in England would be a cruel position, a severe punishment for a man of honor, whose only fault perhaps is that he is mistaken, an inch for imminence for a capacity for business, and so serves the state without comprehending it. But what else can I do? I too serve the state, and I comprehend what I owe it, and the dignity for which it entrusts me, and the deep responsibility it lays on me. I, therefore, cannot assent to future felonies any more than I have to past and present, but must stop them and will stop them how I can. So, sir, I offer you the post of honor or a place of shame, choose. For three whole days you have the choice, choose, and may God enlighten you and forgive me for waiting these three days. I have the honor to be, et cetera, et cetera, to this letter, whose tone was more eccentric, more flesh and blood, and without president than the last, came an answer in a different hand from the others. I am the first recipient of the chaplain's letter. Since the human life has succumbed under the discipline of jail, an inquiry follows immediately as a matter of course. The other inducements you have held out are comparatively weak and something more than superfluous. How far that they are in good taste will be left to your own cooler consideration. A person connected with the home department will visit your jail with large powers soon after you receive this. He is instructed to avail himself of your zeal and knowledge. Be pleased to follow this course. Select for him the planar facts of your case. If, on the face of the business, he sees ground for deeper inquiry, a commission will be set upon the jail, and, meanwhile, all suspected officers will be suspended. You will consider yourself still in direct correspondence with his office, but if requested, on account of the mass of matter daily submitted to us, that your communications may be confined to facts, and those stated as concisely as possible. Mr. Eden colored with shame as well as pleasure. How gentlemen like all this is, thought he. How calm and superior to me, who, since I had the jaundice, am always lowering my office by getting into a heat. And I to threaten this noble, dignified creature with the times, I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. Yet what could I do? I had tried everything short of bullying and failed. But I now suspect never saw my first two letters. Doubtless the rotten system of our public offices is more to blame than this noble fellow. Thus accusing himself, Mr. Eden returned with somewhat feeble steps to the jail. One of the first prisoners he visited was Thomas Robinson. He found that prisoner in the attitude of which he thought he had cured him, coiled up like a snake, moody and wretched, the man turned round with a very bad expression on his face, which soon gave way to a look of joy. He uttered a loud exclamation, and springing unguardedly up, dropped a brick bat which rolled towards Mr. Eden and nearly hit him. Robinson looked confused, and his eyes rose and fell for Mr. Eden's face to the brick bat. How do you do? Not so well as before you fell ill, sir, and has been a hard time of us, poor fellow, since we lost you. I fear it has. You've just come back in time to save a life or two. There's a boy called Joseph's. I hope the day won't go over without you visiting him, for they are killing him by inches. How do you know that? I heard him say so. Mr. Eden groaned. You look pale, poor fellow. I shall be better now, replied the thief, looking at him affectionately. What is this? This, sir. What, sir? This brick. Well, why, it is a brick, sir. Where did you get it? I found it in the yard. And what were you going to do with it? Oh, I wasn't going to do any ill with it. Then why that guilty look when you dropped it? Come now, I have no humor to be hard upon you. Were you going to make some more cards? Now, sir, didn't I promise you I would never do that again? And Robinson wore an aggrieved look. Would I break a promise I made to you? Well, what was it for, then? Am I bound to discriminate myself, your reverence? Certainly not to your enemy, but to your friend, and to him who has all the care of your soul. Yes? Let me ask you a question first, sir. Which is worth most, one life or 20? 20. Then if, by taking one life, you can save 20, is it a good action to put one out of the way? That does not follow. Oh, doesn't it? I thought it did. There's a man in this prison that murders men wholesale. I thought if I could get any way to put it out of his power to kill any more, what a good action it would be. A good action was for haus skull, your reverence. This, then, is the fruit of all my teaching. You will break my heart among you. Don't say so, sir. Don't pray, don't say so. I won't touch a hair of his head now you are alive. But I thought you were dead or dying. So what did it matter that I did this? Besides, I was driven into a corner. I could only kill that scoundrel or let him kill me. But you are alive, and you will find some way of saving my life as well as his. I will try, but first abandon all thoughts of lawless revenge. Venge is his mind, I will repay, say it the Lord. Come, promise me. Now, sir, is it likely I would offend you for the pleasure of dirtying my fingers with that rascal's blood? Don't let such a lump of dirt as him make mischief between you and me, sir. I understand. With you, any un-Christian sentiment is easily driven out by another. Hatred is to give way to contempt. No, sir, but you are alive. And I don't think of haus now one way or other. With such scum as that out of sight is out of mind. When did you begin to get better, sir? And are you better? And shall I see your blessed face in my cell every day as I used? And the water stood in the thief's eyes. Mr. Eden smiled inside. Your mind is like an eel, heaven help the man that tries to get a hold of it to do any lasting good. You and I must have a good pray together someday. Ah, your reverence, that would do my good soul and body, said Mr. Supple. Let me feel your pulse. It is very low. What's the matter? Starvation, overwork, and solitude, I feel myself sinking. If I could amuse your mind, even you could hardly do that, sir. Hm, I have brought you a choir of paper and one of Mr. Gilead's swan quill pens and a penny ink bottle. What for? You are to write a story, but I never wrote one in my life. Then this will be the first. Oh, I'll try, sir. I've tried a hundred things in my life and they none of them prove so hard as they looked. What kind of story? The only kind of story that is worth a button, a true story, the story of Thomas Robinson, alias Scott, alias Lion, alias, et cetera. Then you should have brought a ream instead of a choir. No, I want to read it when it is written. Now write the truth. Do not dress or cook your facts. I shall devour them raw with twice the relish and they will do you 10 times the good. And intersperse no humbug, no sham pensions. When your own life thus spread out before you like a map, you will find your regret many things you have done and view others with calmer and wiser eyes for self-review is a healthy process. Write down these honest reflections, but don't overdo it. Don't write a word you don't feel. It will amuse you while you were at it, that it will. It will interest me more than the romance of a carpet writer who never saw life and it may do good to other prisoners. I want to begin. I know you do creature of impulse. Let me feel your pulse again. Ah, it has gained about 10. 10, your reverence. 50, you mean. It is you for putting life into a poor fellow and keeping him from despair. It is not the first time you have saved me. The devil hates you more than all the other Parsons for you are as ingenious and good as he is in mischief. In the midst of this original eulogy, Mr. Eden left the cell suddenly with a naking heart. For the man's words reminded him that for all his skill and zeal, a boy of 15 years lay dead of despair hard by. He went, but he left two good things behind him. Occupation and hope. End of chapter 22. Chapter 23 of It Is Never Too Late to Mend. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Maxwell. It Is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reed. Chapter 23. The inexperienced in jails would take for granted that the death of Joseph's gave Mr. Haas system a fatal check. No such thing. He was staggered. So was Pharaoh staggered several times, yet he always recovered himself in 24 hours. Haas did not take so long as that. A suicide was no novelty under his system. Six hours after he'd found his victim dead, he had a man and a boy crucified in the yard. Swore horribly at Fry, who for the first time in his life was behind time, and tore out of his hands Uncle Tom, which was the topic that had absorbed Fry and made him two minutes behind him. Went home and wrote a note to his friend Williams informing him of the suicide that had taken place and reflecting severely upon Joseph's for his whole conduct, with which this last offense against discipline was in strict accordance. Then he had his grog and having nothing to do, he thought he would see what was that story which had prevailed so far over the stern realities of system as to derange that piece of clockwork that went by the name of Fry. He yawned over the first pages, but as the master hand unrolled the great chromatic theory, he became absorbed and devoured this great human story till his candles burned down in their sockets and sent him to bed four hours later than usual. The next morning, soon after chapel, a gentleman's servant rode up to the jail and delivered a letter for Mr. Hawes. It was from Justice Williams that worthy expressed in Polly Syllables his sorrow at the death of Joseph's after this fashion. A circumstance of this kind is always to be deplored since it gives occasion to the enemies of the system to cast reflections, which however unphilosophical and malignant prejudiced superficial judgments against our salutary discipline. He then went on to say that the visiting justices would be at the jail the next day at one o'clock to make their usual report, in which Mr. Hawes might be sure his zeal and fidelity would not pass unnoticed. He concluded by saying that Mr. Hawes must on that occasion present his charges against the chaplain in a definite form and proceedings would be taken on the spot. Aha, aha, so I shall get rid of him. Confound him, he makes me harder upon the beggars than I should be. Fry put these numbers on the cranks and bring me your report after dinner. With these words Mr. Hawes vanished and to the infinite surprise of the turnkeys was not seen in the jail for many hours. At two o'clock, as he was still not in the prison, Fry went to his house. He found Mr. Hawes deep in a book. Brought the report, sir. Give it to me. Humph. Number 40 and 45 refractoried the crank. Number 65 caught getting up to his window says he wanted to feel the light. 65, that is one of the boys, isn't it? Yes, sir. How old is the young garment? 11, sir. Number 14 heard to speak to a prisoner that was leaving the jail, his term being out. What did he say to him? Said goodbye, God bless you. I'll shut his mouth. Confound the beggars. How fond they are of talking. I think they would rather go without their food than without their jaw. Number 19 caught writing a story. It is that fellow Robinson, one of the Parsons, man. I'll write something on his skin. How did he get the things to write with? Chaplain gave them him. Ah, I'm glad of that. He brought them away, of course. Yes, sir, here they are. He made a terrible fuss about partying with them. What did he say? He said heaven was to judge between me and him. Glass-feming dog, darn him, I'll break him. What else? Get out of my sight, said he, for fear I do you a mischief. So then down he pops on his knees in a corner and turns his back on me like an ignorant brute that he is. Never mind, Fry, I'll break him. I suppose we shall see you in the prison soon, shant we, sir? The place looks strange to me without you. Buy and buy, buy and buy. This confounded book sticks to me like a leech. How far had you got when you lent it to me? Got just to the most interesting part, said Fry dofely, where he comes under a chap called LaGrie, and then you took it away. Well, you'll have it again as soon as I've done with it. I say, what do you think of this book? Is it true, do you think? Oh, it is true. I'd take my oath of that. Why, how do you know? Because it reads like true. That is no really fool. Well, sir, what do you think? This question staggered Hawes for a moment. However, he assumed an irracular look and replied, I think some of it is true and some isn't. Do you think it is true about their knocking down Blackie in one lot and his wife in another and sending them a thousand miles apart? Oh, that is true enough, I dare say. And running them down with bloodhounds? Why not? They look upon the poor devils as beasts. If you tell a Yankee a nigger as a man, he thinks you're poking fun at him. It is a cursed shame. Of course it is, but I'll tell you what I can't swallow in this book. Hmm, did you ever fall in with any Yankees? One or two, sir. Were they green at all? That they weren't. They were rather foxy, I should say. Rather. Why one of them would weather upon any three Englishmen that ever were born? Now here's a book that as good as tells me it is a Yankee custom to disable their beasts of burden. Gammon, they can't afford to do it. I believe, continued this candid personage, who had never been in any of the states. They are the cruelest set on the face of the earth, but then they are the cutest, that is their own word, and they are a precious sight too, cute to disable the beasts that carries the grist to the mill. Doesn't seem likely, now you put it to me. Have a glass of Rob Fry. Thank you, sir. And there is the paper. Run your eye over it and don't speak to me for 10 minutes, for I must see how Tom gets on under this bloody-minded heathen. Fry read the paper, but although he moistened it with a glass of grog, he could not help casting Enby's glances from his folio at Mr. Haas's duo Decemo. Fibs mixed with truth charm us more than truth mixed with fibs. Presently an oath escaped from Mr. Haas. Sir. Nothing, it is only this infernal humph. Presently another expletive. I'll tell you what it is, Fry. If somebody doesn't knock this thundering legree on the head, I'll put the book on the fire. Well, but if it isn't true, sir, but it is true. Every word of it while you are reading it, you fool. What heathens there are in the world. First, they sell a child out of his mother's arms. She cuts sooner than be parted. They hunt her and come up with her, but she knows what they are and trusts her life and the child to one of their great thundering frozen rivers, as broad as the British Channel, sooner than fall into their hands. That is like a woman, Fry. A fig for me being drowned if the kid is drowned with me, and I don't even care so much for the kid being drowned if I go down with him. And the cowardly, vermin dogs and men stood barking on the bank and dirtsed follow a woman. But your cruel ones are always cowards. And now the rips have got hold of this Tom, a chap with no great harm in him that I see, except that he is a snibbler and psalm singer and makes you sick at times, but he isn't lazy. And now they are mauling him because he couldn't do the work of two. A man can but do his best, black or white. And it is infernal stupidity, as well as cruelty to torment a fellow because he can't do more than he can do. And all this because over the same flesh and blood, there is the 16th of an inch of skin a different color. Wonder whether a white bear takes a black one for a hog or a red fox takes a blue one for a badger. Well, Fry, thank your stars that you were born in Britain. There are no slaves here and no buying and selling of human flesh and one law for high and low, rich and poor and justice for the weak as well as the strong. Yes, sir, said Fry deferentially. Are you coming into the jail, sir? No, replied Hawes sturdily. I won't move till I see what becomes of the Negro and what is done to this eternal Ruffian. But about the prisoners in my report, sir, remonstrated Fry. Oh, you can see to that without my coming, replied Hawes with nonchalance. Put 40 and 45 in the jacket four hours apiece. Mind there's somebody by with the bucket against a sham. Yes, sir, put the boy on bread and water and tomorrow I'll ask the justices to let me flog him. Number 14, humph. Stop his supper and his bed and gas. And Robinson, oh, give him no supper at all and no breakfast, not even bread and water, do you hear? And at noon I'll put him with his empty belly in the black hole. That will count him down to the ground. There, be off. Next morning, Mr. Hawes sat down to breakfast in high spirits. This very day he was sure to humiliate his adversary, most likely get rid of him altogether. Mr. Eden, on the contrary, wore a somber air. Hawes noticed it, mistook it, and pointed it out to Fry. He is down upon his luck. He knows he is coming to an end. After breakfast, Mr. Eden went into Robinson's cell. He found him haggard. Oh, I am glad you are come, sir. They are starving me. No supper last night, no breakfast this morning and all four, hmm, for what? Well, sir, then, having paper in my cell and for writing, doing what you bade me, writing my life. Mr. Eden colored and winced. The cruelty and the personal insult combined almost took away his breath for a moment. Having grant me patience a little longer, he said aloud. Then he ran out of the cell and returned in less than a minute with a great hunch of bread and slice of ham. Eat this, he said, all fluttering with pity. The famished man ate like a wolf, but in the middle he did stop to say, did one man ever save another so often as you have me? Now my belly is full, I shall have strength to stand the jacket, or whatever is to come next. But you are not to be tormented further than this, I hope. Ah, sir, replied Robinson, you don't know the scoundrel yet. He is not starving me for nothing. This is to weaken me till he puts the weight on that is to crush me. I hope you exaggerate his personal dislike to you and your own importance. We all do that. Well, sigh, Robinson, I hope I do. Anyway, now my belly is full and I've got a chance with him. The visiting justices met in the jail. The first to arrive was Mr. Woodcock. In fact, he came at 11 o'clock an hour before the others. Had Mr. Hawes expected him so soon, he would have taken Carter down, who was the pillory one this morning. But he was equal to the emergency. He met Mr. Woodcock with a depressed manner as of a tender but wise father who in punishing his offspring had punished himself and said in a low, regretful voice, I'm sorry to say I've been compelled to punish a prisoner very severely. What is his offense? Being refractory and breaking his crank, you will find him in the labor yard. He was so violent we were obliged to put him in the jacket. I shall see him. The labor yard is the first place I go to. Mr. Hawes knew that, Mr. Woodcock. The justice found Carter in that state of pitigable torture, the sight of which made Mr. Eden very ill. He went up to him and said, my poor fellow, I'm very sorry for you, but discipline must be maintained and you are now suffering from fighting against it. Make your submission to the governor and then I dare say he will shorten your punishment as far as he thinks consistent with his duty. Carter, it may well be imagined, made no answer. It is doubtful whether the worthy magistrate expected or required one. An occasion for misjudging a self-evident case of cruelty had arrived. This worthy seized the opportunity, received an ex parte statement for gospel and misjudged spite of his senses. Item, an occasion for twaddling had come and this good soul seized it and twaddled into a man's ear who was fainting on the rack. At this moment the more observant Hawes saw the signs of shamming coming on. So he said hastily, oh, he will come too soon and then he will be taken down and moved away. Mr. Woodcock followed him without one grain of suspicion or misgiving. The English state has had many opportunities of gauging the average intellects of its unpaid jurists. By this it has profited so well that it entrusts blindly to this gentleman and his brethren the following commission. They are to come into a place of darkness and mystery, a place locked up, a place which by the folly of the nation and the shallow egotists who are its placement and are called its statesmen is not subject to the only safeguard of law and morals, daily inspection by the great unprejudiced public. There to come into this, the one pitch dark hole that is now left in the land. There to come here once in two months and at this visit to see all that has been done there in the dark since their last visit. Their eagle eye is not to be hoodwinked by appearances got up to meet their visit. There to come and comprehend with one piercing glance the past months as well as the present hour. Good, only for this task is required not the gullibility that characterizes the many but the sagacity that distinguishes the few. Mr. Woodcock undertook not to be deceived as to what had been done in the jail while he was 40 miles distant and haws gold him under his own eyes. What different men there are in the world and how differently are the same things seen by them? The first crucifixion Eden saw he turned as sick as a dog. The first crucifixion Woodcock saw he twaddled in the crucified's ear, left him on the cross and went on his way well pleased. Haws finding what sort of man he had to deal with thought within himself. Why should I compromise discipline at any point? He said to Mr. Woodcock, there is another prisoner who I am afraid I must give an hour in the dark cell. What has he been doing? Scribbling a lot of lies upon some paper he got from the chaplain. Mr. Haws' brief and unkind definition of autobiography did Robinson's business. Mr. Woodcock simply observed that the proposed punishment was by no means a severe one for the offense. They visited several cells. Woodcock addressed the prisoners in certain words, accompanied with certain tones and looks that were at least as significant as his words and struck the prisoners as more sincere. The words, if you have anything to complain of here now is the time to say so and your complaint shall be sifted. The tones and looks, I know you are better off here than such scum as you deserve but you have a right to contradict me if you like. Only mind if you don't prove it to my satisfaction who am not the man to believe anything you say you had better have held your tongue. Meantime Mr. Haws said nothing but fixed his eyes on the rogue and that I said one word of discontent and the moment he is gone I massacre you. Then followed in every case the old theatrical business according to each road's measure of ability. They were in the Elysian fields. One thing alone saddened them. Someday or other they must return to the world. Fathers sent by your apprehensive wives to see whether Dicky is well used at that school or not don't draw Dicky into a corner of the playground and with tender kisses and promises of invaluable secrecy coax him to open his little heart to you and tell you whether he is really happy. Leave such folly to women. It is a weakness to wriggle into the truth as they do. No you go like a man into the polar with a school master then have Dicky in. Let him see the two authorities together on good terms then ask him whether he is happy and comfortable and well used. He will tell you he is. Go home rejoicing but before you go into the drawing room do pray spend 20 minutes by the kitchen fire and then go upstairs to the boy's mother and let her eat you for you belong to the family of the wood cocks. We are passing one cell. Oh that one is empty replied Hawes. Not quite empty. There was a beach coffin standing in that cell and the corpse of a murdered thief lay waiting for it. At 12 o'clock the justices were all assembled in their room. We will send you a message in half an hour Mr. Hawes. Mr. Hawes bowed and retired and bade fry to take Robinson to the dark cell. The poor fellow knew resistance was useless. He came out at the word of command to spare written on his face. Of all the horrors of this hell the dark cell was the one he most dreaded. He looked up to Hawes to see if anything he could say would soften him. No that hardened face showed neither pity nor intelligence as well appealed to a stone statue of a mule. At this moment Mr. Eden came into the jail. Robinson met him on the ground floor and cried out to him. Sir they are sending me to the black hole for it. I am a doomed man. The black hole for six hours. No roared Hawes from above for 12 hours. The odd six is for speaking in prison. Robinson groaned. I will take you out in three said Mr. Eden calmly. Hers hawed and laughed aloud. Give me your hand on that sir for pity's sake cried Robinson. Mr. Eden gave him his hand and said firmly. I will take you out in two hours please God. Hawes chuckled. Parsons putting his foot in it more and more. The justices shall know this. This momentary contact with his good angel gave Robinson one little ray of hope for a companion in the cave of darkness, madness and death. End of chapter 23. Chapter 24 of it is never too late to mend. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Maxwell. It is never too late to mend by Charles Reed. Chapter 24 part one. The justices went through their business in the usual routine. They had Mr. Hawes' book up, examined the entries, received them with implicit confidence looked for no other source of information to compare them with, examined one witness and did not cross examine him. This done, one of them proposed to concoct their report at once. Another suggested that the materials were not complete, that there was a charge against the chaplain. This should be looked into and should it prove grave embodied in their report. Mr. Williams overruled this. We could reprimand or if need be the bench can dismiss a chaplain without troubling the secretaries of state. Let us make a report and then look into the chaplain's conduct who is after all a newcomer and they say a little cracked. He's a man of learning. So they wrote their report and in it expressed their conviction that the system on the whole worked admirably. They noticed the incident of Joseph's suicide but attached no significance and little importance to it. Out of 180 prisoners, there would be a few succumbing one way or another under the system but on the whole, the system worked well. Jugger's systems wheels were well greased and so long as they were well greased it did not matter they're crushing one or two. Besides the crushed were only prisoners, the refuse of society. They reported the governor, Mr. Haas as a painstaking active zealous officer and now Mr. Haas was called in. The report was read to him and he bowed, laid his hand upon his aorta and presented a histrionic picture of modest merit surprised by unexpected praise from the high quarter. Next, Mr. Haas was requested to see the report sent off to the post. I will gentlemen and in five minutes he was at the post office in person and his praises on the way to his sovereign or her representative. How long will the parson take us? Oh, not 10 minutes. I hope not for I want to look at a horse. We had better send for him at once then. The bell was rung and the chaplain sent for it. The chaplain was praying the prayers for the sick by the side of a dying prisoner. He sent back word how he was employed and that he would come as soon as he had done. This message was not well received. Keep a living justice waiting for a dying dog. These puppies want taking down said Mr. Woodcock. Oh, leave him to me replied Mr. Williams. Soon after this the following puppy came into the room. A gentleman of commanding figure, erect but easy, with a head of remarkable symmetry and an eye like a stag's. He entered the room quietly but rather quickly and with an air of business, bowed rapidly to the three gentlemen in turn and waited in silence their commands. Then Mr. Williams drew himself up in his chair and wore the solemn and dignified appearance that becomes a judge trying a prisoner with this difference that his manner was not harsh or intentionally offensive but just such as to reveal his vast superiority and irresistible weight. In a solemn tone with a touch of pity, he began thus. I am sorry to say Mr. Eden that grave charges are laid against you in the prison. Give yourself no uneasiness on my account sir, replied Mr. Eden politely. They are perhaps false. Yet they come from one who has means of knowing from the governor, Mr. Hawes. Ah, then they are sure to be false. We shall see. Four Sundays ago you preached a sermon. Two. Aye, but one was against cruelty. It was the other handled theft. Mr. Hawes conceives himself to have been singled out and exposed by that sermon. Why so? There were more than 30 cool men in this jail besides him. Then this sermon was not aimed at him, put Mr. Williams with a pinning air. It was and it was not. It was aimed at that class of my parishioners to which he belongs, a large class, including all the turnkeys but one, between 20 and 30 of the greater criminals among the prisoners and Mr. Hawes. Mr. Williams bit his lip. Gentlemen, this classification shows the animus. Then turning to Mr. Eden, he said, with a half incredulous sneer, how comes it that Mr. Hawes took this sermon all to himself? Mr. Eden smiled. How does it happen that two prisoners, 82 and 87, took it all to themselves? These two men sent for me after the sermon. They were wife beaters. I found them both in great agitation. One terrified the other softened to tears of penitence. These did not apply my words to Mr. Hawes. The truth is when a searching sermon is preached, each sinner takes it to himself. I'm glad Mr. Hawes fitted the cap on. I'm glad the prisoners fitted the cap on. I am sorry Mr. Hawes was irritated instead of reformed. I am glad those two less hardened sinners were reformed instead of irritated. And I must tell you, sir, that we disapprove of your style of preaching altogether and we shall do more. We shall make a change in this respect and condition of your remaining in office. And the bishop of the diocese asked Mr. Eden, what about him? Do you think he will allow you an ignorant inexperienced layman to usurp the Episcopal function in his diocese? The Episcopal function, Mr. Eden. Mr. Eden smiled. He does not even see that he has been trying to usurp sacred functions and of the highest order. But it is all of a peace, a profound ignorance of all law, civil or ecclesiastical, characterizes all your acts in this jail. My good soul, just ask yourself for what purpose does a bishop exist? Why is one priest raised above other priests and consecrated bishop, but to enable the church to govern its servants? I laugh, but I ought rather to rebuke you. What you have attempted is something worse than childish arrogance. Be warned and touch not the sacred vessels so rashly. It is profanation. The flashing eye and the deepening voice and the old, awful ecclesiastical superiority suddenly thundering upon them, quite cowed the two smaller magistrates. Williams, whose pompacity the priest had so rudely shaken, gasped for breath with rage. Magisterial arrogance was not prepared for ecclesiastical arrogance and the blow was stunning. Gentlemen, I wish to consult you. Be pleased to retire for a minute, sir. A discussion took place in the chaplain's absence. Williams was for dismissing him on the spot, but the others who were cooler would not hear of it. We have made a false move, said they, and he saw our mistake and made the most of it. Never mind, we shall catch him on other ground. During this discussion, Mr. Eden had not been idle. He went into Robinson's empty cell and coolly placed there another ink stand, pen, and choir in the place of those haws had removed. Then, glancing at his watch, he ran hastily out of the jail. Opposite the gate, he found four men waiting. They were there by appointment. Guile, as he said to one, I think a gentleman will come down by the next train. Go to the station and hire Jenkins Fly with the gray horse. Let no one have it who is not coming on to the jail. You two stay by the printing press and loom until further orders. Jackson, you keep in the way, too. My servant will bring you your dinner at two o'clock. He then ran back to the justices. They were waiting for him. Mr. Williams began with a cutting coldness. We did not wish to go to the length of laying a complaint against you before the bishop, but if you really prefer this to a friendly remonstrance, I prefer the right thing to the wrong thing was the prompt and calm rejoinder. The complaint shall be made. Mr. Eden bowed and his eyes twinkled. He pictured to himself this pompous personage writing to the bishop to tell him that he objected to Mr. Eden's preaching, not that he'd ever heard it, but that in attacking a great human vice, it had hit a jailer. The next I think we can deal with. Mr. Haas complains that you constantly interfere between him and the prisoners and undermine his authority. I support him in all his legal acts, but I do oppose his illegal ones. Your whole aim is to subvert the discipline of the jail. On the contrary, I assure you I'm the only officer of the jail who maintains the discipline as by law established. Am I to understand that you give Mr. Haas the lie? You shall phrase my contradiction according to your own tastes, sir. And which do you think is likeliest to be believed? Mr. Haas by you gentlemen, Mr. Eden by the rest of the nation. Here Mr. Palmer put in his word. I don't think we ought to pay less respect to one man's bare assertion than to another's. It is a case for proof. Well, but Palmer replied Woodcock, how can the jail go on with these two daggers drawn? It cannot, said Mr. Eden. Ah, you can see that. A house divided against itself suggested Mr. Eden. Well then, said Mr. Woodcock, let us try and give a more friendly tone to this discussion. Why not, our weapons would bear polishing. Yes, you have a high reputation, Mr. Eden, both for learning and Christian feeling. In fact, the general consideration in which you are held has made us more lenient in this case than we should have been with another man in your office. Then you are all wrong. You can't mean that. Make us some return for this feeling. You know and feel the value of peace and unity. I do. Then be the man to restore them to this place. I will try. The governor and you cannot pull together. One must go. Clearly. Well then, no stigma shall rest on you. You will be allowed to offer us your voluntary resignation. Excuse me. I propose to arrive at peace and unity by another route. But I see no other. If I turn Mr. Hawes out, it will come to the same thing, will it not? Mr. Hawes? Mr. Hawes. But you can't turn him out, sir, sneered Williams. I think I can. He has our confidence and our respect and shall have our protection. Still, I will turn him out with God's help. This is a defiance, Mr. Eden. You cannot really think me capable of defying three justices of the peace, said Mr. Eden in a solemn tone, his eyes twinkling. Defiance. No, said Mr. Palmer innocently. Well, but Palmer, his opposition to Mr. Hawes, is opposition to us, and is so bitter that it leaves us no alternative. We must propose to the bench to remove you from your office. Mr. Eden bowed. And meantime, put in Mr. Williams, we shall probably suspend you this very day by our authority, Mr. Eden bowed. We shall not detain you any longer, sir, said Williams, rather insolently. I will but stay to say one word to this gentleman who has conducted himself with courtesy toward me. Sir, for your own sake, do not enter on this contest with me. It is an unequal one. A boy has just been murdered in this prison. I am about to drag his murderer into the light. Why hang upon his skirts and compel me to expose you to public horror as his abodeur? There is yet time to disown the fell practices of hell. He looked at his watch. There is half an hour. Do not waste it in acts which our superiors will undo. See here are the prison rules. A child could understand them. A child could see that what you call the discipline is a pure invention of the present jailer and contradicts the discipline as by law established and consequently that Joseph's and others have been murdered by this lawless man. These are the prison rules, are they not? And here are the jailers proceedings in the month of January. Compare the two and separate your honorable name from the contact of this cadiff whose crimes will give it him in the nation's eyes and you with him unless you seize this chance and withdraw your countenance from him. The three injustices rose by one impulse. Make your preparations to leave the jail, said Mr. Woodcock. Half an hour is quite enough under the circumstances, said Williams. Palmer stood aghast. His mind was not fast enough to keep up. Mr. Eden bowed and retired. He was scarcely out of the room when the justices drew up an order for his suspension from his office. Mr. Hawes was next sent for it. We have found the chaplain all you described him. Discipline is impossible with such a man. Here is an order for his suspension. Hawes' eyes sparkled. We will enter it into the book. Meantime, you are to see it executed. Hawes went out but presently returned. He won't go, gentlemen. What do you mean by he won't go, said Williams. I told him your orders and he said, tell their worships they are exceeding their authority and I won't go. Then I said, they give you half an hour to pack up and then you must pack off. He he he, and what did he say? Oh, they give me half an hour, do they? Says he. You take them this. And he wrote this on a slip of paper. Here it is. The slip contained these words, Greek letters. While the justices were puzzling over this, Hawes added, gentlemen, he said in his polite way, if it is like the prison rules and beats their comprehension, you may tell them it means there is many a slip, twix, the cup and the lip. Well, Mr. Hawes, what next? I am viddled for a siege, says he, and he goes into his own room and I heard him shoot the bolt. What does that mean, inquired Mr. Palmer? It means, sir, that you won't get him out except by kicking him out. Hawes had been irritating their wounded vanity in order to get them up to this mark. Then turn him out by force, said Williams, but the other two were wiser. No, we must not do that. We can keep him out if once he crosses the door. I will manage it for you gentlemen, said Mr. Hawes. Do. Mr. Hawes went out and primed fry with a message to Mr. Eden that a gentleman had ridden over from Oxford to see him and was at his house. Mr. Eden was in his room, busy collecting and arranging several papers. He had just tied them up in a little portfolio when he heard Fry's voice at the door. When that worthy delivered his message, his lip curled with scorn. But he said, very well, I will disappoint the sly boobies, thought he. But the next moment, looking out of his window, he saw a fly with a gray horse coming along the road. At last he cried and instantly unbolted his door and issued forth with his little portfolio under his arm. He had scarce taken 10 steps when a turnkey popped out from a corner and stood sentinel over his room door, barring all return. Mr. Eden smiled and passed on along the corridor. He descended from the first floor to the basement. Here he found Hawes affecting business, but not skillfully enough to hide that he was watching Mr. Eden out. In the yard, leading to the great door, he found the injustices. Aha, thought he, waiting to see me out. He raised his hat politely. Williams took no notice. The others slight. There as many a slip, twix the cup and the lip, said he to them, looking them calmly over, then sauntered toward the gate. Mr. Hawes came creeping after and joined the injustices. Every eye furtively watched the person whom they had outwitted. Fry himself had gone to the lodge to let him out and keep him out. He was but a few steps from the door. Hawes chuckled. His heart beat with exultation. Another moment and that huge barrier will be interposed forever between him and his enemy, the prisoner's friend. Open the door, Mr. Fry, said the chaplain. Fry pulled it quickly open and let that gentleman in. A middle-aged gentleman was paying off his fly. The door being thus thrown open, he walked quickly into the jail as if it belonged to him. Who is this? inquired Mr. Williams sharply. The newcomer inquired us sharply. The governor of this jail? Mr. Hawes stepped forward. I'm the governor. The newcomer handed him his card and a note. Mr. Lacey from the home office, said Mr. Hawes to the injustices. These, sir, are they visiting justices? Mr. Lacey bowed but addressed himself to Mr. Hawes only. Grape charges have been made against you, sir. I am here to see whether matters are such as to call for a closer investigation. May I ask, sir, who makes the charges against me? The chaplain of your own jail. But he is my enemy, sir, my personal enemy. Don't distress yourself. No public man is safe from detraction. We hear an excellent account of you from every quarter, but this one, my visit will probably turn to your advantage. Pause brightened. Is there any room in which I could conduct this inquiry? Will you be pleased to come to the justices' room? Yes, let us go there at once. Gentlemen, you shall be present if you choose. It is right you should know the chaplain is cracked, said Mr. Williams. I should not wonder. Pray, inquired Mr. Lacey. Who was that billiest-looking character near the gate when I came in? Why, that was the chaplain. I thought so. I daresay we shall find he has taken a jaundiced view of things. Send for him, if you please, and let us get through the business as quickly as we can. When Mr. Eden came, he found Mr. Lacey chatting pleasantly with his four adversaries. On his entrance, the gentlemen's countenance fell a little, and Mr. Eden had the pleasure of seeing that this man, too, was prejudiced against him. Mr. Mr. Eden. Mr. Eden, be seated, if you please. You appear to be ill, sir. I am recovering from immortal sickness. The jaundice, eh? Something of that nature. A horrible complaint. Mr. Eden bowed. I have had some experience of it. Are you aware of its effect on the mind? I feel its effect on the temper and the nerves. Deeper than that, sir, it colors the judgment, makes us look at everything on the dark side. Mr. Eden's side. I see what you were driving at, but you confound effect with cause. Mr. Lacey shrugged his shoulders, opened his portfolio, and examined a paper or two. Mr. Hawes, you served Her Majesty in another way before you came here. Five and 20 years, sir, man and boy. And I think with credit, my will has been good to do my duty, whatever my abilities may be. I believe you distinguished yourself at sea in a storm in the West Indies. Mr. Williams put in warmly. He went out to a vessel in distress in a hurricane at Jamaica. It was off the Maritius, observed Mr. Eden with a gleam of satisfaction. Well, said Mr. Lacey, he saved other lives at the risk of his own, no matter where. Pray, Mr. Eden, does your reading and experience lead you to believe that a brave man is ever a cruel one? Yes. There is a proverb that the cruel are always cowards. Can't. Seven out of 12 are cowards and thrive brave. I don't agree with you. The presumption is all on Mr. Haas's side and only the facts on mine. Mr. Lacey smiled superciliously. To the facts, let us go then. You received a note from the home office this morning. In compliance with that note, have you prepared your case? Yes. Will you begin by giving me an idea what the nature of your evidence will be? A pager tool of print, 20 of manuscript, three or four living witnesses and one dead body. Hmm. He seems an earnest gentleman. How long do you require to state your case? Can it be done today? Mr. Lacey looked at his watch half-peavishly. Half an hour was the reply. Only half an hour? I, but a half an hour neat. What do you mean by neat? The minutes not to be counted that are wasted in idle interruptions or in arguments drawn from vague probabilities where direct evidence lies under our senses. For instance, that because I have been 25 years a servant of Christ with good repute, therefore it is not to be credited that I could bring a false accusation. Or that because Mr. Haas was brave 20 years ago in one set of circumstances, therefore he cannot be cool now in another set of circumstances. Mr. Lacey colored a little, but he took a pinch of snuff and then coolly drew out of his pocket a long paper sealed. Have you any idea what this is? Mr. Eden caught sight of the direction. It was to himself. Probably my dismissal from my post. It is. Haas quivered with exultation. And I have authority to present you with it if you do not justify the charges you've made against a brother officer. Good said Mr. Eden. This is intelligent and it is just. The first gleam of either that has come into this dark hole since I've known it. I augur well from this. This is a character, gentlemen. To business, sir inquired Mr. Eden on doing his portfolio. Sir, putting Mr. Haas, I object to an ex parte statement from a personal enemy. You are here to conduct a candid inquiry, not to see the chaplain conduct a hostile one. I feel that justice is safe in your hands, but not in his. Stop a bit, said Mr. Eden. I am to be dismissed unless I prove certain facts. See, the Secretary of State has put me on my defense. I will entrust that defense to no man but myself. You are keen, sir, but you are in the right. And you, Mr. Haas, will be here to correct his errors and to make your own statement after he has done in half an hour. Ah, well thought, Haas. He can't do me much harm in half an hour. Begin, sir, and he looked at his watch. End of chapter 24, part one. Chapter 28 of It is Never Too Late to Mend. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Mary Maxwell. It is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reed. Chapter 24, part two. Mr. Haas, I want your book, The Logbook of the Prison. Get it, Mr. Haas, if you please. Mr. Haas went out. Mr. Williams, are these the prison rules by act of parliament, and he showed him the paper? They are, sir. Examine them closely, Mr. Lacey. They contain the whole discipline of this prison as by law established. Keep them before you. It is with these you will have to compare the jailer's acts. And now, how many times is the jailer empowered to punish any given prisoner? Once, on a second offense, the prisoner, I see, is referred for punishment to the visiting justices. If, therefore, this jailer has taken upon himself to punish the same prisoner twice, he has broken the law. At all events, he has gone beyond the letter of this particular set of rules. But these rules were drawn up by lawyers and are based on the law of the land. A jailer, in the eye of the law, is merely a head turnkey set to guard the prisoners. For hundreds of years, he had no lawful right to punish a prisoner at all. That right was first bestowed on him with clear limitations by an act passed in George IV's reign. Which I must show you, because that act is a jailer's sole authority for punishing a prisoner at all. Here's the passage, sir. Will you be kind enough to read it out? Hmm, the keeper of every prison shall have power to hear all complaints touching any of the following offenses, disobedience of the prison rules, assaults by one prisoner on another where no dangerous wound is given, profane cursing or swearing, any indecent behavior at chapel, idleness or negligence in work. The said keeper may punish all such offenses by ordering any offender to close confinement in the refractory or solitary cells, and by keeping such offenders upon bread and water only for any term not exceeding three days. Observe, put in Mr. Eden. He can only punish once and then not select the punishment according to his own fancy. He is restricted to separate confinement and bread and water in three days. Mr. Lease, he continued. In case any criminal prisoner shall be guilty of any repeated offense against the rules of the prison, or of any greater offense than the jailer is by this act empowered to punish, the said jailer shall forthwith report the same to the visiting justices who can punish for one month, or felons or those sentenced to hard labor by personal correction. Such, sir, said Mr. Eden, is the law of England, and the men who laid down our prison rules were not so ignorant or unscrupulous as to run their head against the statute law of the land. Nowhere in our prison rules will you find any power given to our jailer to punish any but minor offenses, or to punish any prisoner more than once, or to inflict any variety of punishments. Such are this jailer's powers, now for his acts and their consequences. Follow me. Evans opened this cell. Jenkins, what are you in prison for? For running away from service, your reverence. How often have you been punished since you came? A good many times, your reverence. By the visiting justices? No, sir. I was never punished by them, only by the governor. What have been your offenses? I don't know, sir. I never meant to offend at all, but I'm not very strong. And the governor, he puts me on a heavy crank, and then I can't always do the work, and I suppose he thinks it is for want of the will, and so he gives it me. How has he punished you? Oh, sometimes it is clamming, nothing but a two-penny roll all day, and kept to hard work by the same. Sometimes my bed taken away. You know, sir, but mostly the punishment jacket. Mr. Lacey, the punishment jacket? What is that? Mr. Eden, look in the prison rules and see if you can find a punishment jacket. Meantime, come with me. Two gross violations of the law, repetition of punishment, and variety of punishments. Evans opened this cell. What are you in for? Prisoner taking his cap off politely. Burglary, gentlemen. Have you been often refractory since she came here? Once or twice, sir, but what? These gentlemen are the visiting justices? Yes, they would be offended if I told the truth. Mr. Lacey, I am here from the Secretary of State and I bid you tell the truth. Prisoner, oh, are you, sir? Well, then the truth is I never was refractory but once. Mr. Lacey, oh, you were refractory once? Prisoner, yes, sir. Mr. Lacey, how came that? Prisoner, well, sir, it was the first week. I'd never been in a separate cell before and it drove me mad. No one came near me or spoke a word to me and I turned savage. I didn't know myself and I broke everything in the cell. Mr. Eden, and the other times? Prisoner, the other time, sir, I was called refractory but I was not. Mr. Eden, what punishments have been inflicted on you by the Governor? Prisoner, well, sir, the black cell, bread and water, and none of that took away my gas once or twice but generally it was the punishment jacket. Mr. Lacey, hmm, the punishment jacket. Mr. Eden, how long since you had the punishment jacket? Prisoner, no longer than yesterday. Mr. Eden, strip my man and let us look at your back. The prisoner stripped and showed his back, striped livid and red by the cutting straps. Mr. Lacey gave a start but the next moment he resumed his official composure and at this juncture Mr. Hawes bustled into the cell and fixed his eye on the prisoner. What are you doing, said he, eyeing the man. The gentleman made me strip, sir, said the prisoner with an ill-used air. Have you any complaint to make against me? No, sir. Then what have you been humbugging us for all this time, cried Mr. Williams contemptuously. For instance, cried Mr. Eden in the same tone, glancing slyly at Mr. Lacey. How dare you show us frightful wails upon your back when you know they only exist in your imagination and mine. Mr. Lacey laughed. That is true, he can't retract his wails and I should be glad to know how they came there. Here he made a note. I will show you by and by, said Mr. Eden. The next two cells they went to, the prisoners assured Mr. Lacey that they were treated like Mr. Hawes' children. Well, sir, said Lacey with evident satisfaction. What do you say to that? I say, use your eyes. And he wheeled the last prisoner to the light. Look at this hollow eye and faded cheek. Look at this trembling frame and feel this halting pulse. Here is a poor wretch crushed and quelled by cruelty until scarce a vestige of man is left. Look at him. Here is an object to pretend to you that he has been kindly used. Poor wretch, his face gives the lie to his tongue and my life on it, his body confirms his face. Strip, my lad. Mr. Hawes interposed and said it was cruel to make a prisoner stripped to gratify curiosity. Mr. Eden laughed. Come, strip, he said. The gentleman is waiting. The prisoner reluctantly took off his coat, waistcoat and shirt and displayed an emaciated person and several large, livid stripes on his back. Mr. Lacey looked grave. Now, Mr. Lacey, you see the real reason why this humane gentleman did not like the prisoner to strip. Come to another. Before we go into this one, let me ask you one question. Do you think they will ever tell you the truth while Mr. Hawes' eyes on them? Hmm, they certainly seem to stand in awe of Mr. Hawes. But, sir, you see how bitter the chaplain is against me, where he is, I ought to be if I am to have fair play. Certainly, Mr. Hawes, certainly that is but fair. Mr. Eden, what are you in for? Prisoner, taken a gentleman's wipe, gentlemen. Mr. Eden, have you been often punished? Prisoner, yes, your reverence, while you know I have. Now, didn't you save my life when they were starving me to death two months ago? Mr. Lacey, how did he save your life? Prisoner, made him put me on the sick list and put something into my poor belly. Mr. Lacey, what steak was the man in Mr. Eden? Mr. Eden, he was like a skeleton and so weak that it could only speak two or three words at a time and then had to stop a long while and recover strength to say two or three more. I did not think a human creature could be so near death and not die. Mr. Lacey, and did you know the cause? Mr. Eden, frankly I did not. I had not at that time fathomed all the horrors of this place. Mr. Lacey, did you tell the chaplain at the time you were starving? Prisoner, no. Mr. Eden, and why not? Mr. Hawes, simply because he never was starving. Prisoner, well, I'll tell you gentlemen, his reverence said to me, my poor fellow, you are very ill. I must have you on the sick list directly. And then he went for the doctor. Now I knew if I got on the sick list, they would fill my belly. So I said to myself, best let well alone. If I had told him it was only starvation, he would not interfere, I thought. Mr. Lacey opened his eyes. Mr. Eden sighed. Mr. Lacey, you seem to have a poor opinion of Her Majesty's officers. Prisoner, didn't know him, you see. Didn't know his character. The humbug that was here before him would have let a poor fellow be kicked into his grave before his eyes and not hold out a hand to save him. Mr. Lacey, let me understand you. Were you kept without food? Prisoner, I was a day and a half without any food at all. Mr. Lacey, by whose orders? Prisoner, by the governors there. And I was a week on a two-penny loaf once a day and kept at hard work on that till I dropped. Ah, your reverence, I shall never forget your face. I should be under the sod now if it was not for you. Williams, you rascal. The last time I was here you told me you never were so happy and comfortable. Prisoner, ha, ha, ha, ha, he, ha, oh. I ask you pardon for laughing, sir, but you are so precious green. Why, if I had told you the truth then, I shouldn't be alive to talk to you now. What, I should have murdered you, should I, said Mr. Haas with a lofty sneer? Why, you know you would, sir, replied the prisoner firmly and respectfully, looking at him full in the face before them all. Mr. Lacey, you don't think so, or you would not take these liberties with him now. The prisoner cast a look of pity on Mr. Lacey. Well, you are green. What, can't you see that I am going out today? Do you think I'd be such a culley as to tell a pack of greenhorns like you the truth before a sharp hand like our governor if I was in his power? No, my term of imprisonment expired at 12 o'clock today. Then why are you here? I'll tell you, sir, our governor always detains a prisoner for hours after the law sets him free, so then the poor fellow has not time to get back to his friends, so then he sleeps in the town, tend to want it a public house, gets a glass, gets into bad company, and in a month or two comes back here. That is the move, sir. Bless you, they are so fond of us, they don't like to part with us for good and all. Mr. Lacey, I do not for a moment believe, Mr. Haas, that you have foreseen these consequences, but the detention of this man after 12 o'clock is clearly illegal, and you must liberate him on the instant. Mr. Haas, that I will, and I wish this had been pointed out to me before, but it was a custom of the prison before my time. Mr. Eden, Evans, come this way, come in. How long have you been a turnkey here? Evans, four years, sir. Mr. Eden, do you happen to remember the practice of the late governor with respect to prisoners whose sentence had expired? Evans, yes, sir. They were kept in their cells all the morning. Then at 11, their own clothes were brought in clean and dry, and they had half an hour given to them to take off the prison dress and put on their own. Then a little before 12, they were taken into the governor's own room for a word of friendly advice on leaving, or a good book, or a tract, or whatnot. Then at sharp 12, the gate was open for them, and prisoner, goodbye till we see you again. Evans, sternly, come, my man. It is not for you to speak till you were spoken to. Mr. Eden, you must not take that tone with the gentleman Evans. This is not a queen's prisoner. It is a private guest of Mr. Haas. But time flies. If after what we have heard and seen, you still doubt whether this jailer has broken the law by punishing the same prisoner more than once, and in more ways than one, fresh evidence will meet you at every step. But I would now direct your principal attention to other points. Look at rule 37. By this rule, each prisoner must be visited and conversed with by four officers every day, and they are to stay with him upon the aggregate half an hour in the day. Now the object of this rule is to save the prisoners from dying under the natural and inevitable operation of solitude and enforced silence, two things that are fatal to life and reason. But solitary confinement is legal. Mr. Eden sighed heavily, no, it is not. Separate confinement, i.e. separate of prisoner from prisoner is legal. But separation of a prisoner from the human race is as illegal as any other mode of homicide. It never was legal in England. It was legal for a short time in the United States. And do you know why it has been made illegal there? No, I do not, because they found that life and reason went out under it like the snuff of a candle. Men went mad and died as men have gone mad and died here through the habitual breach of rule 37. A rule the aim of which is to guard separate confinement from being shuffled into solitary confinement or homicide. Take 20 cells at random and ask the prisoners how many officers come and say good words to them as bound by law. Ask them whether they get their half hour per diem of improving conversation. There is a row of shambles. Go into them by yourself. Take neither the head butcher nor me. Mr. Lacey bit his lip, bowed stiffly, and beckoned Evans to accompany him into the cells. Mr. Hawes went in search of fry to concert what was best to be done. Mr. Eden paced the corridor. As for Mr. Lacey, he took the cells at random, skipping here and there. At last he returned and sent for Mr. Hawes. I'm sorry to say that the 37th rule has been habitually violated. The prisoners are unanimous. They tell me that so far from half an hour's conversation they never have three minutes except with the chaplain and during his late illness they were often in perfect solitude. They tell me too that when you do look in it is only to terrify them with angry words and threats. Solitude broken only by harsh language is a very sad condition for a human creature to lie in. The law, it seems, does not sanction it, and our own imperfections should plead against such terrible severity applied indiscriminately to great and small offenders. Oh, that is well said. That is nobly said, cried Mr. Eden with enthusiasm. Sir, I was put in here to carry out the discipline which had been relaxed by the late governor and I have but obeyed orders as it was my duty. Nonsense, retorted Mr. Eden, the discipline of this jail is comprised in these rules of which eight out of 10 are habitually broken by you. He is right there so far, Mr. Haas. You are here to maintain not an imaginary discipline but an existing discipline strictly defined by printed rules. And it seems clear you have committed, through ignorance, serious breaches of these rules. But let us hope, Mr. Eden, that no irreparable consequences have followed this unlucky breach of Rule 37. Irreparable? No, replied Mr. Eden bitterly. The home office can call men back from the grave, can it? Here is a list of five men all extinguished in this prison by breach of Rule 37. You start. Understand me, this has but a small portion of those who have been done to death here in various ways. But these five drop silently like autumn leaves by breach of Rule 37. Rule 37 is one of the safety valves which the law, more humane than the blockheads who executed, has attached to that terrible engine's separate confinement. I cannot accept this without evidence. I have a book here that contains ample evidence. You shall see it. Meantime, I will just ask that turnkey about Hatchett, the first name on your list of victims. Evans, what did you find in Hatchett's cell when he was first discovered to be dying? 18 loaves of bread, sir, on the floor in one corner. 18 loaves, I really don't understand. Don't you? How could 18 loaves have accumulated but by the man rejecting his food for several days? How could they have accumulated unobserved if Rule 37 had not been habitually broken? Alas, sir, Hatchett's story, which I see is still dark to you, is as plain as my hand to all of us who know the fatal effects of solitary or homicidal confinement. Thus, sir, it was, unsustained by rational employment, uncheered by the sound of a human voice, torn out by the roots from all healthy contact with the human race, the prisoner Hatchett's heart and brain gave way together. Being now melancholy mad, he shunned the food that was jerked blindly into his cell like a bone to a wolf by the scientific contrivance to make brute fling food to brute, instead of man handing it with a smile to a grateful man, and so his body sunk, his spirits and reason had succumbed before, and he died. His offense was refusing to share his wages with a woman from whom he would have been divorced, but that he was too poor to buy justice at so dear a shop as the House of Lords. The law condemned him to a short imprisonment. The jailer, on his own authority, substituted capital punishment. Is it your pleasure, sir, that I should be vilified and insulted thus to my very face and by my inferior officer, asked Hoss, changing color? You have nothing to apprehend, except from facts, was the somewhat cold reply. You are aware I do not share this gentleman's prejudices. Would you like to see a man in the act of perishing through the habitual breach of Rule 37 in jail? Can you show me such a case? Come with me. They entered struts cell. They found the old man in a state bordering on stupor. When the door was opened, he gave a start, but speedily relapsed into stupor. Now, Mr. Lacey, here is a lesson for you. Would to God I could show this sight to all the pedants of science who spend their useless lives in studying the limbs of the crustacean dunkuli and are content to know so little about man's glorious body and to all the state dunces who give sordid blockheads the power to wreck the brains and bodies of wicked men in these the clandestine shambles of the nation? Would I could show these and all other numbskulls in the land this dying man that they might write this one great truth in blood on their cold hearts and muddy understandings? Alas, all great truths have to be written in blood ere man will receive them. But what is your great truth? asked Mr. Lacey impatiently. This, sir, replied Mr. Eden, putting his finger on the stupefied prisoner's shoulder and keeping it there, that the human body, besides its grosser wants of food and covering, has more delicate needs, robbed of which it perishes more slowly and subtly, but as surely as when frozen or starved. One of these subtle but absolute conditions of health is light. Without light the body of a blind man pines as pines a tree without light. Tell that to the imposter physical science deep in the crustacean dunculi and ignorant of the ABC of man. Without light man's body perishes. With insufficient light it droops and here in all these separate shambles is insufficient light, a defect in our system which cooperates with this individual jailer's abuse of it. Another of the body's absolute needs is work. Another is conversation with human beings. If by isolating a vulgar mind that has collected no healthy food to feed on in time of dearth you starve it to a standstill. The body runs down like a watch that has not been wound up. Against this law of nature it is not only impious but idiotic to struggle. Almighty God has made man so and so he will remain while the world lasts. A little destructive blockhead like this cannot God's work to pieces as a signum but he can do no more alter it while it stands and he can mend it when he has let it down and smashed it. Feel this man's pulse and look at his eye. Life is ebbing from him by a law of nature as uniform as that which governs the tides. His pulse is certainly very low and when I first felt it he was trembling all over. Oh, that was the agitation of his nerves. We opened the door suddenly and did that make a man tremble? Certainly that is a well-known symptom of solitary confinement. It is by shattering a man's nerves all to pieces that it prepares the way for his death. Which death comes sometimes enraging lunacy of which eight men have died under Mr. Hawes's reign. Here is the list of deaths by lunacy from breach of rule 37, eight. You will have the particulars by and by. I really don't see my way through this, said Mr. Lacey. Let us come to something tangible. What is this punishment jacket that leaves marks of personal violence in so many prisoners? Now Mr. Hawes had been looking for this machine to hide it but to his surprise neither he nor Fry could find it. Evans fetched the infernal machine. Yes, sir, Revence. Evans brought the jacket, straps, and collar from a cell where he had hidden them by Mr. Eden's orders. You play the game pretty close, Parsons, said Mr. Hawes with an attempt at a sneer. I play to win. I am playing for human lives. This, sir, is the torture, marks of which you have seen on the prisoners. But your inexperience will not detect at a glance all the diabolical ingenuity and cruelty that lurks in this place of linen and these straps of leather. However, it works thus. The man being in the jacket, its back straps are drawn so tight that the sufferer's breath is impeded and his heart, lungs, and liver are forced into unnatural contact. You stare. I must inform you that nature is a wonderfully close packer. Did you ever unpack a human trunk of its stomach, liver, lungs, and heart and then try to replace them? I have and believe me, as no gentleman can pack like a shopman, so no shopman can pack like nature. The victim's body and organs being crushed, these two long straps fasten him so tight to the wall that he cannot move to ease the frightful cramps that soon attack him. Then steps in by way of climax this collar, three inches and a half high. See, it is as stiff as iron and the miscretans have left the edges unbound that it may do the work of a man, saw as well as garot. In this iron three-handed grip, the victim rise and sobs and moans with anguish and, worse than all, loses his belief in God. This is a stern picture, said Mr. Lacey, hanging his head. Until what with the freezing of the blood in a body jammed together and flattened against a wall, what with the crushed respiration in the cowed heart, the deadly faintness creeps over the victim and he swoons away. Oh, it is a lie, a base malignant lie, shouted Hawes. I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Hawes. Hear the justices with great beat joined in and told Mr. Lacey he would be much to blame if he accepted any statement made against so respectable a man as Mr. Hawes. Then they all turned indignantly on Mr. Eden. That gentleman's eyes sparkled with triumph. I had been trying a long time to make him speak, but he was too cunning. It is a lie, is it? Yes, it is a lie. What is a lie? The whole thing. Give me your book, Mr. Hawes. What do you mean by the punishment jacket? An entry that appears so constantly here in your handwriting. I never denied the jacket. Then what is the lie of which you'll be accused me? Show me that I may ask your pardon and his I serve for so great a sin as a lie. It is a lie to say that the jacket tortures the prisoners and makes them faint away. It only confines them. You want to make me out of villain, but it is your own bad heart that makes you think so or say so without thinking it. Now, Mr. Lacey, I think we have caught our eel. This, then, is the ground you take. If it were true that this engine, instead of merely confining men, tortured them to fainting, then you say you would be a villain. You hesitate, sir. Can't you afford to admit that after all? Yes, I can, but on the other hand, you say it is untrue that this engine tortures. I do. Prove that by going into it for one hour. I have seen you put a man in it for six. Now, do you really think I'm going to make myself a laughing stock to the whole prison? Well, but consider what a triumph you are denying yourself to prove me a liar and yourself a true man. It would be the greatest feat of dialects the world ever saw, and you need not stand on your dignity, better men than you have been in it, and there goes one of them. Here, Evans, come this way. We want you to go into the punishment jacket. The man recoiled with a ludicrous face of disgust and dismay. Mr. Lacey smiled. Now, your reverence, don't think of it. I don't want to earn no more guineas that way. What does he mean, asked Mr. Lacey? I gave McGinney to go into it for half an hour, and he calls it a hard bargain. Oh, you have been in it, then. Tell me, is it torture or is it only confinement? Confinement. Confound such confinement, I say. Yes, it is torture and the worst of torture. Ask his reverence. He has been in the oven as well as me. Mr. Lacey opened his eyes wide. What, he said with a half grin. Have you been in it? That he has, sir, said Evans, grinning out in return. Bless you, his reverence is not the one to ask a poor man to stand any pain he dared face himself. There, there, we don't want to hear about his reverence, said his reverence very sharply. Mr. Haas says it's not torture and therefore he won't face it. It is too laughable and painless for me, says slippery Mr. Haas. It is torture and therefore I won't face it, says the more logical Mr. Evans. But we can cut this knot for you, Mr. Lacey. There are in this dungeon a large body of men so steeped in misery, so used to torture for their daily food, that they will not be so nice as Mrs. Haas and Evans. Fiat experimentum in corporeal villi. Follow me, sir, and as we go, pray cast your eyes over the prison rules and see whether you can find a punishment jacket. No, sir, you will not find even a Spanish collar or a pillory or a cross, far less a punishment jacket which combines those several horrors. Mr. Haas hung back and begged a word with the justices. Gentlemen, you have always been good friends to me. Give me a word of advice, or at least let me know your pleasure. Shall I resign? Shall I fling my commission in this man's face who comes here to usurp your office and authority? Resign nonsense, said Mr. Williams. Stand firm, we will stand by you and who can hurt you then? You are very good, sirs. Without you I couldn't put up with any more of this to be baited and badgered in my own prison after serving my queen so many years by sea and land. Poor fellow, said Mr. Woodcock. And how can I make head against such a man as Eden, a lawyer in a parson's skin, an orator too that has a hundred words to say to my one? Let him talk till he is hoarse. We will not let him hurt you. Thank you, gentlemen, thank you. Your wishes have always been my law. You bid me endure all this insolence, honored by your good opinion, and supported by your promise to stand by me. I will endure it, and Mr. Hawes was seen to throw off the uneasiness he had put on to bind the magistrates to his defense. They are coming back again. Who was with them? Mr. Hawes muttered an oath. It is a refractory prisoner I had sent to the dark cell. I suppose they will examine him next and take his word against mine. Chorus of visiting justices, shame end of chapter 24.