# Memoirs of James Hardy Vaux/Volume 2/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.
BESIDES the four men convicted the same day as myself, there were in the cells several others who had been cast for death the preceding session; and, the recorder's report not having yet been made, they still remained under sentence, ignorant of the fate which awaited them, but they were in expectation of its being decided every succeeding levee-day. It is customary to confine two condemned prisoners in each cell, and I was destined to be the companion of a man named Nicholls, his former bed-fellow having suffered about a week previous to my conviction. On the turnkeys, who attended me, opening the door of his cell, the unhappy man (Nicholls,) was discovered on his knees, with a book in his hand, and evidently a prey to doubt and terror. My conductors apologized for disturbing him, saying, they had only brought him a companion, and hoped he would find consolation in my society. Poor Nicholls answered in broken accents, "My ​God! I was a little alarmed,—I heard the keys coming,—I thought it was the report.—What?—do you expect it to-night?" The turnkeys replied, that from the lateness of the hour, it was not probable; but begged him to compose himself, and hope for the best. They then re-locked the doors, and left us. This unfortunate person had been convicted of selling forged bank-notes, through the treachery of a man, who, to save himself, had given information, and betrayed him by a signal to the police-officers, at the moment of the negotiation taking place. As he was known to have carried on this illegal and dangerous traffic to a great extent in the town of Birmingham, where he resided, the Bank were determined to make an example of him; particularly as he had obstinately refused to save his own life by disclosing, as he could have done, most important information on the subject, so as to lead to the detection of the fabricators. This being the case of Nicholls, he had no hope of mercy being extended to him; and was consequently in hourly dread of the awful fiat which was to seal his doom, and consign him to a shameful and premature death. On being left alone with him, I forgot for a moment my own situation, and feeling for that of my ill-fated companion, whose case I already knew, I exerted myself to console and sooth him; not by raising in him hopes for which I knew there was no foundation, but by exhorting him to look ​forward to "another and a better world;" to comfort himself with the reflection that his crime, (though punished with death on account of its injurious tendency in a commercial country,) was not in a moral sense, or in the eye of God, of so black a nature as to preclude him from the hope of mercy at that awful tribunal "before which the judges of this world must themselves be tried." By these and the like suggestions, I so far succeeded as to compose him pretty much; and having undressed ourselves, we went to bed. He then requested me to read a few chapters to him, and earnestly asked my opinion on some particular passages in the New Testament, which applied to his situation, and of the real meaning of which he anxiously wished to be resolved. We had read and reasoned on these topics until St. Paul's clock struck ten, and were on the point of composing ourselves to sleep, that "balm of hurt minds," when we were alarmed by the rattling of keys, and the sound of voices. I endeavoured to calm the agitation of Mr. Nicholls, by supposing that another unhappy man had been convicted, and was about to be introduced to the cells; but he declared it must be the report, and fell on his knees before the cell-door. The footsteps approaching, our door was slowly unlocked, and the distressing agony of my companion was now indescribable. Mr. Newman, the jailor, entered as quietly as possible, and taking Nicholls by the ​hand, while he himself was evidently affected, he said, "Mr. Nicholls,—the report has been made, and—(here he would fain have paused,) I am sorry to inform you it has been unfavourable." Nicholls. "Lord, have mercy on me! God's will be done! I expected it, Mr. Newman,—it is no more than I expected.—When is it,—to suffer, Mr. Newman?" The latter replied, "on Wednesday next." Nicholls. "I could have wished, Mr. Newman, for a little longer time,—I'm not prepared to die,—I have some worldly affairs to settle,—but,—God help me!—I hope for more mercy from Him than the gentlemen of the bank have shewn me." Mr. Newman then assuring him of every attention in his power, commended him to my care, and took a tender leave of us both, promising to see Nicholls again in the morning. The reader will easily perceive I had not the prospect of a very agreeable night before me; my own situation was deplorable enough, but the distress of my unfortunate bed-fellow overpowered every other consideration but that of pity and grief for him. I had now my task to go through again, and to enforce all I repeated with greater energy and stronger assurances. At length, exhausted by contending passions, poor Nicholls fell asleep, and I had then recourse to my philosophy for self-consolation.
The next day, Mr. Newman requested, as a favour, that I would continue to bear the unfortunate Nicholls company during the week he had to live, ​and in this request the latter also joined; so that I could not without inhumanity refuse to comply, and in this melancholy interval I omitted no opportunity of contributing to his comfort. The night before his execution, I also, by his own desire, sat up with him: a very worthy and devout man, of his acquaintance, accompanied by two other friends, also attended him; and the greater part of the night was passed in reading, exhortation, and singing hymns. Poor Nicholls was, however, in a very low and desponding state, and evidently dreaded the approach of death. About three o'clock he was advised to lie down, and sunk into a slumber from which he did not wake till summoned by the keeper about six to descend to the press-yard, the sheriffs, &c., being shortly expected. I now took a solemn farewell of him, and was removed to another cell. At eight o'clock the doleful sound of the tolling bell announced the awful ceremony, and he was a few minutes afterwards launched into eternity; a woman named Margaret Barrington, for forging and uttering a seaman's will, suffering with him. The fate of this unhappy man, who was of a most inoffensive and gentle disposition, and left a numerous family to bewail his loss, affected me much.
I had now a new companion assigned me, a young man about my own age, who was convicted the day after myself, under what is called "Lord Ellenborough's Act." His crime was shooting at ​a person who had attempted to apprehend him in the act of robbery; but his pistol flashed in the pan, and no injury whatever had taken place. However, the nature of the offence excluded him also from any hopes of mercy, so that I had the fortune to be placed in a second unpleasant situation, and probably for a number of weeks. As to myself, I had no reason to doubt of being reprieved, very few persons suffering death at that time of day, except for most heinous crimes, or robbery attended with acts of violence. This young man, 'tis true, was a much more tolerable companion than his predecessor; he was always chearful and easy; declaring (although he expected to suffer,) that, as he had never seriously injured man, woman, or child, he was not afraid to die; but rather happy at the prospect of being released from a troublesome world. He had formerly been transported, but made his escape from the hulks; and the miseries he had witnessed and endured on board those horrid receptacles, he asserted to be such that he preferred death to a reprieve, which might subject him to years of similar suffering.
About eight days after my conviction, I was surprised at being summoned to the main-gate of the prison, to attend a gentleman who inquired for me. This person proved to be an attorney named Humphries, who, addressing me, stated that he called by desire of counsellor Knapp, to inform me that he (Mr. Knapp,) was sorry he had not been ​present at my trial, and that he had discovered a point of law, of which he hoped to avail himself so far as to obtain a revocation of my sentence; that he intended to submit this point to the judge who tried me, and had instructed him (Mr. Humphries,) to prepare a petition for the purpose, as it was Mr. Knapp's opinion that I ought not to have been capitally convicted; but that nothing could be done till after the close of the session, and I must receive the sentence of death as a matter of form; adding, that I might make myself perfectly easy, as there was no danger of my suffering. I now inquired of Mr. Humphries, of what nature was the point or objection in question; but this limb of the law, assuming an air of importance, answered that it would be useless to explain it to me, as, if he did, I should not comprehend it! I was, however, convinced it related to the absence of the porter who was present in Bilger's shop, and who ought to have attended my trial, for the reasons assigned in the preceding Chapter. I, therefore, smiled at the mean opinion he entertained of my understanding, but replied, that it was very well; I should depend on Mr. Knapp and on his (Mr. Humphries',) good offices: and here ended our interview. For brevity's sake, I shall inform the reader at once, that I never derived any benefit from the intimation conveyed to me by Humphries, although I several times wrote both to him and Mr. Knapp. But I rather think it was a ​trick of the former, (who is a designing artful pettifogger,) with a view of extorting money from me, on pretence of drawing up petitions or other documents in my behalf. I had, however, seen too much of the world to be the dupe of an Old Bailey solicitor. Two or three days after this event, the session being concluded, the whole of the prisoners convicted during their progress, were as usual taken down to the court to receive sentence. Myself and the other five men, together with two women, were first put to the bar. When asked, in my turn, what I had to say, "why judgment of death should not pass upon me?" I answered, that my counsel Mr. Knapp having intimated that he had discovered a legal objection to my conviction, I humbly hoped his Lordship would be pleased to respite the judgment. The recorder replied, "Prisoner, your request cannot be complied with; if your counsel had any thing to offer in arrest of judgment, he should have done so previous to the close of the session. I must, therefore, pass sentence upon you." In this observation, I knew the recorder to be perfectly right; and though I was induced to make the trial, I had no hopes of gaining any thing by my motion; and I was now more fully convinced that either Mr. Knapp, or Mr. Humphries, or both, had deceived me, and that I had been altogether very shamefully neglected. His Lordship then proceeded to pass the awful sentence in the usual form, ​which he prefaced with a very pathetic aad impressive address, that drew tears from the surrounding auditors. The other prisoners were then put to the bar in rotation, and variously sentenced; and among those transported for seven years, was poor Bromley, who, though capitally indicted, had the good fortune to be convicted of simple felony only. Thus we were both a second time convicted the same session, as if his fate was involved in mine. He was, a few weeks afterwards, sent on board the same hulk at Portsmouth, in which he had before served seven years; and as he never came to this colony, he will, (if he survives,) in a few months be discharged, and once more return to the scene of our former exploits. I sincerely hope that his past sufferings will, however, warn him to avoid a continuance of his guilty courses, and to amend his life.
The recorder's report to the King being, on some accounts, delayed, I continued eleven weeks in the cells, in which time the number of condemned persons had increased to eighteen! At length, the report was made. About eight o'clock on Friday night, the 3d of May, Mr. Newman entered the press-yard; and, as myself and companion listened with palpitating hearts on their approach, we heard one of the turnkeys utter the words "Cook and Lowe." I confess that at the moment, I was under considerable alarm; which the reader will allow to be natural, when he considers ​that my fate was still doubtful, and that my life or death depended on a single word from the keeper, who came to announce it. Hearing our two names particularly mentioned, as he advanced towards our cell, was also a circumstance calculated to increase our mutual terror. At length the door was unlocked; and by this I knew that one of us, at least, was doomed to suffer, because they always visit first those who are ordered for execution. Mr. Newman entering with a grave countenance, addressed poor Cook in nearly the same terms he had done Nicholls on a former occasion; then turning to me, he said, "Lowe is respited." My unhappy companion received the melancholy news, as he had always declared he should, with a cheerful aspect, nor appeared in the least dismayed. The jailer having withdrawn, Cook, after an inward struggle, assured me he felt perfectly reconciled; and after I had read to and consoled him for a short time, retired to bed, and slept apparently with more composure than usual. The next morning myself and the four others who had been reprieved, (poor Cook being the only one to suffer,) were, as usual, ordered to return to our respective wards; but Cook begged so earnestly that I would not quit him till the fatal day, that I could not avoid complying. In this period, his courage and resignation never once failed him. The same worthy man who had attended Nicholls, passed the last night with him, and I felt ​a melancholy pleasure in bearing them company. Cook, however, was so cheerful and well-prepared, that he slept profoundly the greatest part of the night, and, on being awaked at the usual hour, appeared equally serene and happy. I obtained leave to descend with him to the press-yard, where he washed himself, brushed his coat, and seemed pleased at his approaching release (as he termed it). I then, at his earnest request, accompanied him to the chapel, where he received the sacrament, of which I partook. Some breakfast having been prepared for him, he ate and drank with every appearance of a good appetite; after which, his irons being knocked off, and the hour approaching, I took an affectionate farewell of the poor fellow, who declared to me at parting, that he should go out with as much pleasure as if he was going to a fair or a race, and that he had rather die than live. I then left him, and repaired to my own ward, through the windows of which I saw him pass by to execution; and he really appeared to verify the promise he had made me; nodding, as he passed, to his fellow-prisoners, and having as fine a colour in his cheeks as ever I saw a man. I was informed that he preserved this disposition to the last moment, and died regretted by all who witnessed his deportment. As I now knew the consequence of my being respited, namely, that I was to be transported for life, I became anxious to leave England by the first ​ship for this colony, as I was not in circumstances to subsist for any length of time in a prison; and I wished, if possible, to avoid going to the hulks, as I had been fortunate enough to do on my first transportation. My wife, also, who had paid me the most dutiful attention since my confinement, was earnestly desirous to accompany me in my exile; and, with that view, she waited on a gentleman to whom I referred her, soliciting his interest to obtain that favour; but, although he used every effort, the application was refused, she having no family, and the secretary of state having set his face against such an indulgence, on account of the bad reports received of those women who had already been suffered to go out free with their husbands. I was equally unsuccessful in my application to be sent out by the ship Anne, which was on the point of sailing. At length my wife received a private intimation that I should be removed to the hulks the next morning; in consequence of which, my mother and sisters, whom I immediately summoned, came to take leave of me. I had only acquainted them with my misfortune since my being respited, and they were of course equally astonished and grieved at the news. My wife remained with me that night, and at four o'clock in the morning, myself and eleven others were conveyed by water on board the Retribution hulk at Woolwich.
I had now a new scene of misery to contemplate; ​and, of all the shocking scenes I had ever beheld, this was the most distressing. There were confined in this floating dungeon nearly six hundred men, most of them double-ironed; and the reader may conceive the horrible effects arising from the continual rattling of chains, the filth and vermin naturally produced by such a crowd of miserable inhabitants, the oaths and execrations constantly heard among them; and above all, from the shocking necessity of associating and communicating more or less with so depraved a set of beings. On arriving on board, we were all immediately stripped, and washed in large tubs of water, then, after putting on each a suit of coarse slop-clothing, we were ironed, and sent below, our own clothes being taken from us, and detained till we could sell or otherwise dispose of them, as no person is exempted from the obligation to wear the ship-dress. On descending the hatch-way, no conception can be formed of the scene which presented itself. I shall not attempt to describe it; but nothing short of a descent to the infernal regions can be at all worthy of a comparison with it. I soon met with many of my old Botany Bay acquaintances, who were all eager to offer me their friendship and services,—that is, with a view to rob me of what little I had; for in this place there is no other motive or subject for ingenuity. All former friendships or connexions are dissolved, and a man here will rob his best ​benefactor, or even mess-mate, of an article worth one halfpenny. Every morning, at seven o'clock, all the convicts capable of work, or, in fact, all who are capable of getting into the boats, are taken ashore to the Warren, in which the royal arsenal and other public buildings are situated, and are there employed at various kinds of labour, some of them very fatiguing; and while so employed, each gang of sixteen, or twenty men, is watched and directed by a fellow called a guard. These guards are most commonly of the lowest class of human beings; wretches devoid of all feeling; ignorant in the extreme, brutal by nature, and rendered tyrannical and cruel by the consciousness of the power they possess; no others, but such as I have described, would hold the situation, their wages being not more than a day-labourer would earn in London. They invariably carry a large and ponderous stick, with which, without the smallest provocation, they will fell an unfortunate convict to the ground, and frequently repeat their blows long after the poor sufferer is insensible. At noon the working party return on board to dinner, and at one again go on shore, where they labour till near sun-set. On returning on board in the evening, all hands are mustered by a roll, and the whole being turned down below, the hatches are put over them, and secured for the night. As to the food, the stipulated ration is very scanty, but of even part of that they are defrauded. ​Their provisions being supplied by contractors, and not by Government, are of the worst kind, such as would not be considered eatable or wholesome elsewhere; and both the weight and measure are always deficient. The allowance of bread is said to be about twenty ounces per day. Three days in the week they have about four ounces of cheese for dinner, and the other four days a pound of beef. The breakfast is invariably boiled barley, of the coarsest kind imaginable; and of this the pigs of the hulk come in for a third part, because it is so nauseous that nothing but downright hunger will enable a man to eat it. For supper, they have, on banyan days, burgoo, of as good a quality as the barley, and which is similarly disposed of; and on meat days, the water in which the beef was boiled, is thickened with barley, and forms a mess called "Smiggins," of a more detestable nature than either of the two former! The reader may conceive that I do not exaggerate, when I state, that among the convicts the common price of these several eatables, is,—for a day's allowance of beef, one halfpenny;—ditto, of cheese, one halfpenny;—ditto, of bread, three-halfpence; but the cheese is most commonly so bad, that they throw it away. It is manufactured, I believe, of skimmed milk for this particular contract. The beef generally consists of old bulls, or cows who have died of age or famine; the least trace of fat is considered ​a phenomenon, and it is far inferior upon the whole to good horse-flesh. I once saw the prisoners throw the whole day's supply overboard the moment it was hoisted out of the boat, and for this offence they were severely flogged. The friends of these unhappy persons are not allowed to come on board, but must remain alongside during their visit; the prisoners are, it is true, suffered to go into their boat, but a guard is placed within hearing of their conversation, and if a friend or parent has come one hundred miles, they are not allowed above ten minutes' interview; so that instead of consolation, the visit only excites regret at the parties being so suddenly torn asunder. All letters, too, written by prisoners, must be delivered unsealed to the chief mate for his inspection, before they are sent ashore; and such as he thinks obnoxious, are of course suppressed. In like manner, all letters received from the post-office are opened and scrutinized. If I were to attempt a full description of the miseries endured in these ships, I could fill a volume; but I shall sum up all by stating, that besides robbery from each other, which is as common as cursing and swearing, I witnessed among the prisoners themselves, during the twelvemonth I remained with them, one deliberate murder, for which the perpetrator was executed at Maidstone, and one suicide; and that unnatural crimes are openly committed.