The Vermont transcript. [volume] (St. Albans, Vt.) 1864-1870, 1868-02-21


Ger, and fluff came uppermost to my
surprise again, and in the most unac-
cOuntable manner, | amused myself by
blowing these wOOlly tilaments, through
my ventilatOrs, in preference to their
meeting the eye of the officer ON duty
OH the next occasion that he favored me
with an inspection. By these means
saved a reprOOf or two, and maintained
my prison character tOlerably well, al
! though | never took high rank amongst
| the scrubbers and the cleaners.
The Friday came round at last-tO
me the lucky Friday, although | went
away nervous and respondent. My
war officer expected to see me back
again, the governor expected me, the
last man who let me out the last door
had not the slightest doubt of i'll saw
| if in his eye.
Befure starting, and when those Guild
hall-bOund were ranged together, we
were offered each a piece of bread from
a basket by way of final gift, and then
drafted into the great black prison van,
which carried us away from Newgate TO
the City justice-hall.
At the latter place | took my stand
in the prisoners box again, with the
/ Messengers and other men beside me-
with the aldermen before me, with
friends right and left, witnesses for the
prosecution, detectives, solicitors, re-
pOrters moving about me just as | had
| had them in my dreams night after
night since my last appearance there.
1t Is not worth while to dwell on the
details Of that second examination; they
are not pertinent TO the story, and il Is
not with that object that I have COM
mitted myself to print. Suffice it tOsay
that the chief detective who had arrest
ed me was candid enough to own that
he believed I was entirely free from any
completely with the robbery; that the
alderman awoke to my position, and to
the position of my friends who were
there to speak for me in numbers which
blocked the way 10 the witness-box, and
that at last-after seven days cOnfine-
ment, without hard labor, save that
hard labor of the brain which is the
worst Of all work. was discharged, in
the language Of the alderman-thes same
gentleman who had refused bail on a
previous OccasiOn-with pleasure, with
that great pleasure which he always
experienced in discharging a prisoner
who had proved his innocence as clear
" as | had done"
/ left the court thinking how fellow
creature less well-eOnnected, less in
constant employ, but as ignorant Ofwhat
was in in his lumber cupboard n my
self, or as The aldeTmanwho tried me,
might have been COMPOUNDED with the
rest of the prisoners, and been written
down Receiver without ever a hope of
wiping oft stain; a wiser man in his
knowledge fprison discipline, and how
close the punishment in Newgate for
being suspected verges upon the penal
~ that is paid for being guilty, and
doubtful till the last-till the very min
ute a. | write here-whether | had been
fairly treated by the magistrates, detec-
tives, and prison officers Of this great
city.
trust that some little good may arise
from thus raising my voice TO protest
against the sytem in force with prison.
ers at Newgate on remand. / demand
in the name Of the public that inquiry
be made into this matter, so that ii may
be known who is responsible for reguIa-
tiOns by which innocent persons, or at
all events persons against whom no
crime has been proved, are thus subject
ga TO labors degrading and repulsive;
and exposed, without chance of redress
or even appeal, to the harshness and
cruelty of officials, evidently taught by
long inpunity to insult and tyrannize
over their unhappy charges.