Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1895-10-30
FROM WALL STREET TO NEWGATE.
VIA THE PRIMROSE WAY.
BY AUSTIN BID WE'LL.

| this case, ard I think not. " We had in
formation tat few days previously
meeting of judges had been held and
that he had been advised to pass life
sentence. What he really meant to say
was that he had anxiously considered
whether anything less would be ade-
quate to satisfy the Bank of England
He went Oh to say that "the sentence is
penal servitude for life, and I further
order that each one of you pay one-fourth
of the costs of prosecution-e49, 900, or
e249 900 in all"
And, after ALL what aroused so greatly
his indignation? 1t was simply this
because we were youngsters and Amer
leans and had successfully assaulted the
fondly imagined impregnable Bank of
England, and, worse still, had held up
to the laughter Of the whole world its
red tape idiotic management, for had
they even asked me for reference the
fraud would have been made impossible.
Let my reader contrast this modern
Jeffreys, his savage TRADE, and for an
offense against property the most brutal
sentence, with his treatment of the War
wickshire bank wreckers. Greenaway,
the manager of this bank, and three Of
the directors, by false balance sheets
and perjured reports, for years had loot
ed the bank, finally robbing the depos-
itors of e1,000,000, several of whom
committed suicide, and thousands more
of whom were ruined.
They were tried, convicted and in
being sentenced were told that, being
men of high social position, the disgrace
in itself was severe punishment.
| Therefore he should take that fact into
consideration and ended by sentencing
| two to months, one to 10 months and
one to Ii months imprisonment.
We were sentenced late at night.
nearly 10 o'clock, smoky, foggy Lon
don night. The court was packed, the
corridors crowded, and when the jury
came in with their verdict the suppress
ed excitement found vent. But when
the vindictive and unheard of sentence
| fell from tie lips of this villain judge
an exclamation of horror fell from that
crowded court.
We turned from the judge and went
down the stairs to the entrance of the
underground passage leading to New
gate. There we halted to say farewell
To say farewell! Yes. The Primrose
Way had come to all end, but we were
comrades and friends still, and in order
that in the gloom of the slow moving
days and the blackness and thick hor-
ror of the years to come we might have
some thought in common we then and
there promised-what could we poor,
broken bankrupts promise?
Where or to what in the thick horror
enshrouding us could we turn? We had
Nothing left us to call our own save death
| And that small model Of the barren earth
Which serves rs paste and cover to our bones,
nothing but grave, that
Small model of the barren earth,
with dishonor and degradation for our
epitaph
But there, in the very instant of our
overwhelming defeat, standing in the
dark mouth of the stone conduit leading
from the Old Bailey to the dungeons of
Newgate, by virtue of the high resolve
we made, we conquered fate at her
worst, and by our act in establishing a
secret bond of sympathy in our separa-
ton dropped the bad, disastrous past,
and starting OH new things planted our
feet on the bottom round of the ladder
of success, feeling that, with plenty of
faith and endurance, fortune, frown as
she might now, must turn her wheel
and smile again.
And what was this act? Why, it was
simple one, but bore in it the germ of
great things.
AS we halted there in the gloom we
swore never to give in, however they
might starve us, even grind us to pow
der, as we felt they would certainly try
to do. We knew that in their anxiety
about our souls they would be sure
kindly to furnish each with Bible, and
we promised to read one chapter every
day consecutively, and while reading
the same chapter at the same hour think
of the others. For 20 years we kept the
promise. Then, making the resolve NELL
toned in the beginning of this book, l
marched back to my cell. The door was
opened and closed behind me, leaving
me in pitch darkness convict in my
dungeon Dressed as was lay down
on the little bed there, and through all
that long and terrible night, with a
million dread images rushing through
my brain, lay passive with wide open
eyes, staring into the darkness, con-
scious that sanity and insanity were
struggling for mastery in my brain,
while I, like some interested spectator,
watched the struggle, or again I was
struggling in the air with some power
full but viewless monster form, that
clutched my throat with iron fingers,
but whose body was impalpable to the
grasp of my hands. A mighty space,
an eternity of time, and daylight came.
Then, like one in dream, rose me-
chanically, and finding a pin had
secreted I stood on the little wooden
bench, and impelled by some spiritual
but irresistible force I scratched on the
wall the message had resolved to leave:
In the reproci Of chance
Lies the true proof Of men.
Then thoupht of nv friends and nv