The Fleet. Its Rivers, Prison, and Marriages

CHAPTER XXIII

BUT enough of the miserables in connection with the Fleet Prison. We shall find that it is even possible for a prisoner to write pleasantly, nay, even somewhat humorously, upon his position, as we may see by the perusal of a poem entitled "The Humours of the Fleet. An humorous, descriptive Poem. Written by a Gentleman of the College" &c., Lond. 1749. Under the frontispiece, which represents the introduction of a prisoner into its precincts, is a poem of thirty-two lines, of which the following is a portion: —

Here we see, very vividly depicted, the introduction of a new prisoner; the Chamberlain is introducing him to the Cook, whilst the Goaler and Tapster seem, already, to have made his acquaintance.

The notes appended to the Poem are in the original.

After a somewhat long exordium on prosperity and poverty, together with the horrors of a spunging-house, and imagining that the debtor has obtained his Habeas, which would permit him to choose his prison, the Poet thus sings:

"Close by the Borders of a slimy Flood,Which now in secret rumbles thro' the Mud;(Tho' heretofore it roll'd expos'd to Light,Obnoxious to th' offended City's Sight.)114"Twin Arches now the Sable Stream encloseUpon whose Basis late a Fabrick rose;}In whose extended oblong Boundaries,Are Shops and Sheds, and Stalls of all Degrees,For Fruit, Meat, Herbage, Trinkets, Pork and PeasA prudent City Scheme, and kindly meant;The Town's oblig'd, their Worships touch the Rent."Near this commodious Market's miry Verge,The Prince of Prisons Stands, compact and large;When, by the Jigger's115 more than magick Charm,Kept from the Pow'r of doing Good – or Harm,Relenting Captives only ruminateMisconduct past, and curse their present State;Tho' sorely griev'd, few are so void of Grace,As not to wear a seeming chearful Face:In Drinks or Sports ungrateful Thoughts must die,For who can bear Heart-wounding Calumny?Therefore Cabals engage of various Sorts,To walk, to drink, or play at different Sports:Here, on the oblong Table's verdant Plain,The ivory Ball bounds, and rebounds again; 116There, at Backgammon, two sit tete a tete,And curse alternately their Adverse Fate;These are at Cribbage, those at Whist engag'dAnd, as they lose, by turns become enrag'd:Some of more sedentary Temper, readChance-medley Books, which duller Dullness breed;Or Politicks in Coffee-Room, some poreThe Papers and Advertisements thrice o'er:Warm'd with the Alderman, 117 some set up late,To fix th' Insolvent Bill, and Nation's Fate;Hence, knotty Points at different Tables rise,And either Party's wond'rous, wond'rous wise:Some of low Taste, ring Hand Bells, direful Noise!And interrupt their Fellows' harmless Joys;Disputes more noisy now a Quarrel breeds.And Fools on both Sides fall to Loggerheads:Till wearied with persuasive Thumps and Blows,They drink, and Friends, as tho' they ne'er were Foes."Without Distinction, intermix'd is seen,A 'Squire quite dirty, a Mechanick clean:The Spendthrift Heir, who in his Chariot roll'd,All his Possessions gone, Reversions sold,Now mean, as once Profuse, the stupid SotSits by a Runner's Side, 118 and shules 119 a Pot."Some Sots ill-manner'd, drunk, a harmless Fight!Rant noisy thro' the Galleries all Night;For which, if Justice had been done of late,The Pump 120 had been three pretty Masters Fate.With Stomacks empty, and Heads full of CareSome Wretches swill the Pump and walk the Bare; 121}Within whose ample Oval is a Court,Where the more Active and Robust resort,And glowing, exercise a manly Sport(Strong Exercise with mod'rate Food is good,It drives in sprightful Streams the circling Blood;)While these with Rackets strike the flying Ball,Some play at Nine Pins, Wrestlers take a Fall;Beneath a Tent some drink, and some aboveAre slily in their Chambers making Love;Venus and Bacchus each keeps here a Shrine,And many Vot'ries have to Love and Wine."Such the Amusement of this merry Jail,Which you'll not reach, if Friends or Money fail:For e'er its three-fold Gates it will unfold,The destin'd Captive must produce some Gold:Four Guineas, at the least, for diff'rent Fees,Compleats your Habeas, and commands the keys;Which done, and safely in, no more you're led,If you have Cash, you'll find a Friend and Bed;But, that deficient, you'll but Ill betide,Lie in the Hall,122 perhaps, or Common Side.123"But now around you gazing Jiggers124 swarm,To draw your Picture, that's their usual Term;Your Form and Features strictly they survey,Then leave you, (if you can) to run away.}"To them succeeds the Chamberlain, to seeIf you and he are likely to agree;Whether you'll tip,125 or pay your Master's Fee.126Ask him how much? 'Tis one Pound six and eight;And, if you want, he'll not the Twopence bate:When paid, he puts on an important Face,And shews Mount Scoundrel 127 for a charming Place:You stand astonish'd at the darken'd Hole,Sighing, the Lord have Mercy on my Soul!And ask, have you no other Rooms, Sir, pray?Perhaps enquire what Rent too, you're to pay:Entreating that he wou'd a better seek;The Rent (cries gruffly's) – Half a Crown a Week.The Rooms have all a Price, some good, some bad;But pleasant ones at present can't be had:}This Room, in my Opinion's not amiss;Then cross his venal Palm with half a Piece 128He strait accosts you with another Face."Sir you're a Gentleman; – I like you well,But who are such at first, we cannot tell;Tho' your Behaviour speaks you what I thought,And therefore I'll oblige you as I ought:"How your Affairs may stand, I do not know,But here, Sir, Cash does frequently run low.I'll serve you, – don't be lavish, – only mum!Take my Advice, I'll help you to a Chum! 129A Gentleman, Sir, – see, and hear him speak,With him you'll pay but fifteen Pence a Week; 130Yet his Apartment's on the Upper Floor, 131Well furnish'd, clean and nice; who'd wish for more?A Gentleman of Wit and Judgment too!Who knows the Place; 132 what's what, and who is who;My Praise, alas! can't equal his Deserts;In brief, – you'll find him, Sir, a Man of Parts."Thus, while his fav'rite Friend he recommends,He compasses at once their several Ends;The new come Guest is pleas'd, that he should meetSo kind a Chamberlain, a Chum so neat:But, as conversing thus, they nearer come,Behold before his Door, the destin'd Chum."Why stood he there, himself could scarcely tell;But there he had not stood, had Things gone well:}Had one poor Half-penny but blest his Fob,Or, if in Prospect he had seen a Job,H'had strain'ed his Credit for a Dram of Bob,133But now, in pensive Mood, with Head down cast,His Eyes transfix'd as tho' they look'd their last;One Hand his open Bosom lightly held,And one an empty Breeches Pocket fill'd.His Dowlas Shirt no Stock or Cravat bore,And on his Head, no Hat or Wig he wore;But a once black shag Cap, surcharg'd with Sweat;His Collar, here a Hole, and there a Pleat;Both grown alike in Colour, that – alack!This, neither now was White, nor that was Black;But match'd his dirty yellow Beard so true,They form'd a three-fold Cast of Brick dust Hue;Meagre his Look, and in his nether JawWas stuff'd an elemosynary Chaw;134(Whose Juice serves present Hunger to asswage,Which yet returns again with tenfold Rage;)His Coat, which catch'd the Droppings from his Chin,Was clos'd at Bottom with a Corking-Pin;His Breeches Waistband a long Skewer made fast,While he from Scotland Dunghill135 snatch'd in Haste;His Shirt-Tail thin as Lawn, but not so white,Barely conceal'd his lank Affairs from Sight;Loose were his Knee Bands, and unty'd his Hose,Coax'd 136 in the Heel, in pulling o'er his Toes;Which spite of all his circumspective Care,Did thro' his broken dirty Shoes appear."Just in this hapless Trim and pensive Plight,The old Collegian137 stood confess'd to Sight;Whom, when our new-come Guest at first beheld,He started back, with great Amazement fill'd;}Turns to the Chamberlain, says, bless my Eyes!Is this the Man you told me was so nice?I meant his Room was so Sir, he replies;The Man is now in Dishabille and Dirt,He shaves To-morrow tho', and turns his Shirt;Stand not at Distance, I'll present you, comeMy Friend, how is't? I've brought you here a Chum;One that's a Gentleman; a worthy Man,And you'll oblige me, serve him all you can."The Chums salute, the old Collegian firstBending his Body almost to the Dust;Upon his Face unusual Smiles appearAnd long abandon'd Hope his Spirits chear}Thought he, Relief's at hand, and I shall eat;Will you walk in, good Sir, and take a Seat!We have what's decent here, tho' not compleat;As for myself, I scandalize the Room,But you'll consider, Sir, that I'm at Home;Tho' had I thought a Stranger to have seen,I should have ordered Matters to've been clean;But here, amongst ourselves, we never mind,Borrow or lend – reciprocally kind;Regard not Dress; – tho' Sir, I have a FriendHas Shirts enough, and, if you please, I'll send.No Ceremony, Sir, you give me Pain;I have a clean Shirt, Sir. – But have you twain?O, yes, and twain to boot, and those twice told,Besides, I thank my Stars, a Piece of Gold.Why, then I'll be so free, Sir, as to borrow,I mean a Shirt, Sir, – only till To-morrow.You're welcome, Sir, – I'm glad you are so free.Then turns the old Collegian round with Glee;Whispers the Chamberlain with secret Joy,We live to-night! – I'm sure he'll pay his Foy:Turns to his Chum again with Eagerness,And thus bespeaks him with his best Address;"See, Sir, how pleasant, what a Prospect's there;Below you see them sporting on the Bare;Above, the Sun, Moon, Star, engage the Eye,And those Abroad can't see beyond the Sky:These rooms are better far than those beneath,A clearer Light, a sweeter Air we breath;A decent Garden does our Window grace,With Plants untainted, undistain'd the Glass;And welcome Showers descending from aboveIn gentle Drops of Rain, which Flowers love:In short, Sir, nothing can be well more sweet:But, I forgot – perhaps you chuse to eat;Tho', for my part, I've nothing of my own,To-day I scrap'd my Yesterday's Blade Bone;But we can send – Ay, Sir, with all my Heart,(Then very opportunely enters Smart). 138O, here's our Cook, he dresses all Things well;Will you sup here, or do you chuse the Cell?There's mighty good Accommodations there,Rooms plenty, or a Box in Bartholm' Fair;139There, too, we can divert you, and may shewSome Characters are worth your while to know,}Replies the new Collegian, nothing moreI wish to see, be pleas'd to go before;And, Smart, provide a handsome Dish for Four."Too generous Man! but 'tis our hapless FateIn all Conditions, to be wise too late;For, even in Prison, those who have been free,Will shew, if able, Generosity;}Yet find, too soon, when lavish of their Store,How hard, when gone, it is to come at more;And every Artifice in vain explore.Some Messages Abroad, by Runners send.Some Letters write to move an absent Friend;And by Submission, having begg'd a Crown,In one night's Revel here they'll kick it down.140'Tis true, this one Excuse they have indeed,When others Cole it,141 they as freely bleed;142When the Wind's fair, and brings in Ships with Store143Each spends in turn, and trusts to Fate for more."The future Chums and Chamberlain descendThe Dirt144 knot Stairs, and t'wards the kitchen bend;Which gain'd, they find a merry Company,Listening to Tales (from Smart) of Baudry,All introduced with awkward Simile,145Whose Applications miss the Purpose pat.But in the Fire now burns th' unheeded Fat,Whose sudden Blaze brings L – nd – r146 roaring in;Then Smart looks foolish, and forsakes his Grin.The laughing Audience alter, too, their Tone,For who can smile, that sees Tom L – nd – r frown?He, magisterial rules the panic Cell,And rivals Belzebub, – in looking well:Indignant now, he darts malicious Eyes,While each Dependant from the Kitchen flies;Leaves Smart to combat with his furious Ire,Who heeds him not, but strives to clear the Fire;Blowing and stirring still, no Pains he spares,And mute remains, while Major Domo swears;Who bellows loud Anathemas on Smart,And the last Curse he gives is D – n your Heart;His trembling Lips are pale, his Eyeballs roll;Till, spent with Rage, he quits him with a Growl."Now, as our new-come Guest observ'd this Scene,(As odd an one, perhaps, as could be seen)He first on Smart, next on his Master gaz'd,And at the two extreams seem'd much amaz'd;}Which Smart perceiving, says in sober Mood,Sir, I've a thousand Times his Fury stood;But, yet, the Man tho' passionate, is good;I never speak when he begins to bawl,For, should I swear like him, the House would fall."Here follow two or three pages of but little interest to the reader and the Story continues:"But I forgot; – the Stranger and his Chum,With t'other to, to Barth'l'mew Fair are come;Where, being seated, and the Supper past,They drink so deep, and put about so fast,That 'ere the warning Watchman walks about,With dismal Tone repeating, – Who goes out?147'Ere St. Paul's Clock no longer will witholdFrom striking Ten, and the Voice cries, – All told.148'Ere this, our new Companions, every oneIn roaring Mirth and Wine, so far were gone,That every Sense from ev'ry Part was fled,And were with Difficulty got to Bed;Where in the Morn, recover'd from his Drink,The new Collegian may have Time to think;And, recollecting how he spent the Night,Explore his Pockets, and not find a Doit."Too thoughtless Man! to lavish thus awayA Week's Support in less than half a Day;But 'tis a Curse attends this wretched Place,To pay for dear bought Wit in little Space:The Time shall come, when this new Tenant here,Will in his Turn shule for a Pot of Beer;Repent the melting of his Cash too fast,And snap at Strangers for a Nights Repast."Rooms plenty, or a Box in Bartholm' Fair; 149There, too, we can divert you, and may shewSome Characters are worth your while to know,}Replies the new Collegian, nothing moreI wish to see, be pleas'd to go before;And, Smart, provide a handsome Dish for Four."Too generous Man! but 'tis our hapless FateIn all Conditions, to be wise too late;For, even in Prison, those who have been free,Will shew, if able, Generosity;}Yet find, too soon, when lavish of their Store,How hard, when gone, it is to come at more;And every Artifice in vain explore.Some Messages Abroad, by Runners send.Some Letters write to move an absent Friend;And by Submission, having begg'd a Crown,In one night's Revel here they'll kick it down. 150'Tis true, this one Excuse they have indeed,When others Cole it,151 they as freely bleed;152When the Wind's fair, and brings in Ships with Store153Each spends in turn, and trusts to Fate for more."The future Chums and Chamberlain descendThe Dirt154 knot Stairs, and t'wards the kitchen bend;Which gain'd, they find a merry Company,Listening to Tales (from Smart) of Baudry,All introduced with awkward Simile,155Whose Applications miss the Purpose pat.But in the Fire now burns th' unheeded Fat,Whose sudden Blaze brings L – nd – r156 roaring in;Then Smart looks foolish, and forsakes his Grin.The laughing Audience alter, too, their Tone,For who can smile, that sees Tom L – nd – r frown?He, magisterial rules the panic Cell,And rivals Belzebub, – in looking well:Indignant now, he darts malicious Eyes,While each Dependant from the Kitchen flies;Leaves Smart to combat with his furious Ire,Who heeds him not, but strives to clear the Fire;Blowing and stirring still, no Pains he spares,And mute remains, while Major Domo swears;Who bellows loud Anathemas on Smart,And the last Curse he gives is D – n your Heart;His trembling Lips are pale, his Eyeballs roll;Till, spent with Rage, he quits him with a Growl."Now, as our new-come Guest observ'd this Scene,(As odd an one, perhaps, as could be seen)He first on Smart, next on his Master gaz'd,And at the two extreams seem'd much amaz'd;}Which Smart perceiving, says in sober Mood,Sir, I've a thousand Times his Fury stood;But, yet, the Man tho' passionate, is good;I never speak when he begins to bawl,For, should I swear like him, the House would fall."

Here follow two or three pages of but little interest to the reader and the Story continues:

"But I forgot; – the Stranger and his Chum,With t'other to, to Barth'l'mew Fair are come;Where, being seated, and the Supper past,They drink so deep, and put about so fast,That 'ere the warning Watchman walks about,With dismal Tone repeating, – Who goes out?157'Ere St. Paul's Clock no longer will witholdFrom striking Ten, and the Voice cries, – All told.158'Ere this, our new Companions, every oneIn roaring Mirth and Wine, so far were gone,That every Sense from ev'ry Part was fled,And were with Difficulty got to Bed;Where in the Morn, recover'd from his Drink,The new Collegian may have Time to think;And, recollecting how he spent the Night,Explore his Pockets, and not find a Doit."Too thoughtless Man! to lavish thus awayA Week's Support in less than half a Day;But 'tis a Curse attends this wretched Place,To pay for dear bought Wit in little Space:The Time shall come, when this new Tenant here,Will in his Turn shule for a Pot of Beer;Repent the melting of his Cash too fast,And snap at Strangers for a Nights Repast."

CHAPTER XXIV

WE saw in the lines, under the Frontispiece to the foregoing poem, Garnish was mentioned, and the fact was stated as a Custom then in force of taking the prisoner's coat to pay for his fees on entrance.

"But kind Sir, as you'r a Stranger,Down your Garnish you must lay,Or your Coat will be in danger,You must either Strip or pay."

In the Criminal prisons, the prisoners themselves demanded Garnish from a new-comer, that is, a trifle of money – to drink. In 1708, at Newgate, this sum seems to have been Six shillings and Eightpence "Which they, from an old Custom, claim by Prescription, Time out of Mind, for entring into the Society, otherwise they strip the poor Wretch, if he has not wherewithal to pay it."159 And in the old Play of the Lying Lover we are introduced to a Scene in Newgate where the prisoners are demanding Garnish from some new-comers.

"Storm.Nay, nay, you must stay here.Simon.Why, I am Simon, Madam Penelope's Man.Storm.Then Madam Penelope's Man must strip for Garnish; indeed Master Simon you must.Simon.Thieves! Thieves! Thieves!Storm.Thieves! Thieves! Why, you senseless Dog, doyou think there's Thieves in Newgate? Away withhim to the Tap House (Pushes him off). We'll drinkhis Coat off. Come, my little Chymist, thou shalttransmute this Jacket into Liquor."

Yet although this custom was general, I have only once met with an engraving of the actual process, which, judging by the man's agonized countenance, was not a pleasant one to him. It occurs in the frontispiece to a little pamphlet called "An Oration on the Oppression of Jailors; which was spoken in the Fleet Prison, on the 20th of February, 1730/1," &c. And under the engraving, are these lines.

"Unhappy, friendless Man! how hard thy Fate!Whose only Crime is being Unfortunate.Are Jailors suffer'd in such Acts as these?To strip the Wretch, who cannot pay his Fees?Is there no kind Samaritan will lendRelief, and save him from th' accursed Fiend?"

Respecting this practice let us hear what Howard in his "State of the Prisons in England and Wales," 1777, says, in his Chapter on "Bad Customs in Prisons." "A cruel custom obtains in most of our Gaols, which is that of the prisoners demanding of a new-comer Garnish, Footing, or (as it is called in some London Gaols) Chummage. 'Pay or strip' are the fatal words. I say fatal, for they are so to some; who having no money, are obliged to give up part of their scanty apparel; and, if they have no bedding or straw to sleep on, contract diseases, which I have known to prove mortal.

In many Gaols, to the Garnish paid by the new-comer, those who were there before, make an addition; and great part of the following night is often spent in riot and drunkenness. The gaoler or tapster finding his account in this practice, generally answers questions concerning it with reluctance. Of the Garnish which I have set down to sundry prisons, I often had my information from persons who paid it… In some places, this demand has been lately waved: in others, strictly prohibited by the Magistrates" – so that we see that this custom was already in its death throes, in the last quarter of the eighteenth century.

But in the interval between Bambridge and Howard, the prison was not a pleasant place of residence, if we may judge from "The Prisoner's Song" published in 1738, of which I give an illustration and the Words.

"A Starving life all day we lead,No Comfort here is found,At Night we make one Common bed,Upon the Boarded Ground;Where fleas in troops and Bugs in shoalsInto our Bosoms Creep,And Death watch, Spiders, round ye Walls,Disturb us in our Sleep.Were Socrates alive, and BoundWith us to lead his life,'Twould move his Patience far beyondHis crabbed Scolding Wife;Hard Lodging and much harder fare,Would try the wisest Sage,Nay! even make a Parson Swear,And curse the Sinful Age.Thus, we Insolvent debtors live,Yet we may Boldly say,Worse Villains often Credit give,Than those that never pay;For wealthy Knaves can with applauseCheat on, and ne'er be try'd,But in contempt of human Laws,In Coaches Safely ride."

When Howard visited this prison in 1774 and 1776, he found on the former occasion 171 prisoners in the House, and 71 in the Rules. On the latter there were 241 in the House and 78 in the Rules. And he says:

"The Prison was rebuilt a few years since. At the front is a narrow courtyard. At each end of the building there is a small projection, or wing. There are four floors, they call them Galleries, besides the Cellar floor, called Bartholomew-Fair. Each gallery consists of a passage in the middle, the whole length of the Prison, i. e., sixty six yards; and rooms on each side of it about fourteen feet and a half by twelve and a half, and nine and a half high. A chimney and window in every room. The passages are narrow (not seven feet wide) and darkish, having only a window at each end.

"On the first floor, the Hall Gallery, to which you ascend eight steps, are a Chapel, a Tap room, a Coffee room (lately made out of two rooms for Debtors), a room for the Turnkey, another for the Watchman, and eighteen rooms for Prisoners.

Besides the Coffee-room and Tap-room, two of those eighteen rooms, and all the cellar-floor, except a lock up room to confine the disorderly, and another room for the Turnkey, are held by the Tapster, John Cartwright, who bought the remainder of the lease at public auction in 1775. The cellar floor is sixteen steps below the hall Gallery. It consists of the two rooms just now mentioned, the Tapster's kitchen, his four large beer and wine Cellars, and fifteen rooms for Prisoners. These fifteen, and the two before mentioned, in the hall gallery, the Tapster lets to Prisoners for four to eight shillings a week.

"On the first Gallery (that next above the hall-gallery) are twenty-five rooms for Prisoners. On the second Gallery, twenty seven rooms. One of them, fronting the staircase, is their Committee room. A room at one end is an Infirmary. At the other end, in a large room over the Chapel, is a dirty Billiard-table, kept by the Prisoner who sleeps in that room. On the highest story there are twenty seven rooms. Some of these upper rooms, viz., those in the wings, are larger than the rest, being over the Chapel, the Tap-room, &c.

"All the rooms I have mentioned are for the Master's side Debtors. The weekly rent of those not held by the Tapster, is one shilling and three pence unfurnished. They fall to the Prisoners in succession, thus: when a room becomes vacant, the first Prisoner upon the list of such as have paid their entrance-fees, takes possession of it. When the Prison was built, the Warden gave each Prisoner his choice of a room, according to his seniority as Prisoner… Such of the Prisoners (on the Common Side) as swear in Court, or before a Commissioner that they are not worth five pounds, and cannot subsist without charity, have the donations which are sent to the Prison, and the begging box, and grate. Of them there were, at my last visit, sixteen…

"I mentioned the billiard table. They also play in the yard at skittles, missisipi, fives, tennis, &c. And not only the Prisoners; I saw among them several butchers and others from the Market; who are admitted here, as at another public house. The same may be seen in many other Prisons where the Gaoler keeps or lets the tap. Besides the inconvenience of this to Prisoners; the frequenting a Prison lessens the dread of being confined in one.