Of all the annoyances, none equalled those that came from the “juvenile ward,” as it was termed. In this Captain Groves had raised a sort of Frankenstein to irritate and annoy him, which he found difficult to control. Early in his reign he had felt the necessity for some special treatment of boy prisoners. There were nearly two hundred of these; and though styled boys, they were many of them youths of ages varying from seventeen to twenty years. After much anxious consideration he constructed from his own plans a large general ward to accommodate the whole number. This building long existed, although it was afterwards converted into a Roman Catholic chapel. It was built of brick, only one story high, with a light roof supported by slender iron rods. Around the wall were bays, holding each three hammocks by night, but in which these juveniles worked during the day. And they could work well if they pleased. For general intelligence and astuteness these boys were not to be matched in all the world. They were the _élite_ of the London _gamins_, the most noted rogues, the cleverest thieves, and the most unmitigated young vagabonds of the whole metropolis. It was a similar gathering, but on a larger scale, to that with which we are familiar in the pages of “Oliver Twist.” Properly directed, they had talent enough for anything. They were soon taught to be expert tradesmen; could stitch with the best tailors, and turn out an “upper” or a “half sole” without a flaw. It was part of Captain Groves’ scheme to drill them; and these active lads soon constituted an uncommonly smart battalion.