Great Britain -- Social conditions -- 19th century -- Fiction
Next day, after Mr. Williams had visited the female prisoners and
complimented Hawes on having initiated them into the art of silence, he
asked where the chaplain was. Hawes instantly dispatched a messenger
to inquire, and remembering that gentleman's threatened remonstrance,
parried him by anticipation, thus:
“By-the-by, sir, I have a little complaint to make of him.”
“Indeed!” said Mr. Williams, “what is that?”
“He took a prisoner's part against the discipline; but he doesn't know
them, and they humbug him. But, sir, ought he to preach against me in
the chapel of the jail?”
“Certainly not! Surely he has not been guilty of such a breach of
discipline and good taste.”
“Oh! but wait, sir,” said Hawes, “hear the whole truth, and then perhaps
you will blame me. You must know, sir, that I sometimes let out an oath.
I was in the army, and we used all to swear there; and now a little of
it sticks to me in spite of my teeth, and if his reverence had done me
the honor to take me to task privately about it, I would have taken off
my hat to him; but it is another thing to go and preach at me for it
before all the jail.”
“Of course it is. Do you mean to say he did that?”
“He did, sir. Of course, he did not mention my name, but he preached
five-and-thirty minutes all about swearing, and they all knew who he was
hitting. I could see the warders grinning from ear to ear, as much as to
say, 'There's another rap for you, governor!'”
“I'll speak to him.”
“Thank you, sir; don't be hard on him, for he is a deserving officer;
but if you would give him a quiet hint not to interfere with me. We have
all of us plenty to do of our own in a jail, if he could but see it. Ah!
here comes the chaplain, sir. I will leave you together, if you please;”
and Mr. Hawes made off with a business air.
The chaplain came up and bowed to Mr. Williams, who saluted him in turn
somewhat coldly. There was a short silence. Mr. Williams was concocting
a dignified rebuke. Before he could get it out the chaplain began:
“I wished to speak with you yesterday, sir.
“I am at your service, Mr. Jones. What is it?”
“I want you to look into our punishments; they are far more numerous and
severe than they used to be.”
“On the contrary I find them less numerous.”
“Why, there is one punished every day.”
“I have been carefully over the books, and I assure you there is a
marked decrease in the number of punishments.”
“Then they cannot be all put down.”
“Nonsense, Mr. Jones, nonsense!”
“And, then, the severity of these punishments, sir! Is it your wish that
a prisoner should be strapped in the jacket so tight that we cannot get
a finger between the leather and his flesh?”
“Not unless he is refractory.”
“But prisoners are very seldom refractory.”
“Indeed! that is news to me.”
“I assure you, sir, there are no quieter set of men than prisoners
generally. They know there is nothing to be gained by resistance.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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