Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction
“Therefore I appealed, and do appeal, not to convicted incompetency,
but to those whose incompetency remains to be proved. Perhaps you will
understand me better if I put it thus: I still accuse the jailer of more
than a hundred felonious assaults upon prisoners, of attacks upon their
lives by physical torture, by hunger, thirst, preposterous confinement
in dark dungeons, and other illegal practices; and I now advance another
step and accuse the visiting justices of gross dereliction of their
duty, of neglecting to ascertain the real practice of the jailer in some
points, and in others of encouraging, aiding and abetting him in open
violations of the prison rules printed and issued by Act of Parliament.
Of these rules, which are the jail code, I send you a copy. I note the
practices of the jail by the side of the rules of the jail. By comparing
the two you may calculate the amount of lawless cruelty perpetrated here
in each single day; then ask yourself whether an honest man who is on
the spot can wait four or five months till justice, crippled by routine,
comes hobbling instead of sweeping to their relief.
“For Heaven's sake, bring to bear upon a matter vital to the State
one-half the intelligence, zeal and sense of responsibility you will
throw this evening into some ambiguous question of fleeting policy of
speculative finance. Here are one hundred and eighty souls to whose
correction, cure and protection the State is pledged. No one of all
these lives is safe a single day. In six weeks I have saved two lives
that were gone but for me. I am now sick and enfeebled by the exertions
I have had to make to save lives, and am in no condition to arrest the
progress of destruction. I tell you that more lives will fall if you do
not come to my aid at once! and for every head that falls from this hour
I hold you responsible to God and the State.
“If I fail to prove my several accusations, as a matter of course I
shall be dismissed from my office deservedly; and this personal risk
entitles me not only to petition for, but to demand an inquiry into the
practice of ---- Jail. And in the queen's name, whose salaried servant I
am, I do demand it on the instant and on the spot.”
Thus did flesh and blood address gutta-percha.
The excitement of writing this letter did the patient no good. A
reaction came, and that night his kind nurses were seriously alarmed
about him. They sent for the surgeon, who felt his pulse and his skin
and looked grave. However, he told them there was no immediate danger,
and wrote a fresh prescription.
The patient would eat nothing but bread and water and gruel; but he took
all the doctor's medicines, which were raking ones; only at each visit
and prescription he cross-examined him as to what effect he hoped to
produce by his prescription, and compared the man's expectations with
the result.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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