The gaolers were not always the most gentle of men, as may be seen by the trial of one Acton, deputy-keeper and turnkey of the Marshalsea, for the murder of a prisoner named Thomas Bliss. The indictment will briefly tell the story:
‘That the said _William Acton_, being Deputy Keeper, under _John Darby_, of the said prison, being a person of inhuman and cruel disposition, did, on the 21st of October, in the Year of our Lord, 1726, cruelly, barbarously, and feloniously Beat, Assault, and Wound the said _Thomas Bliss_ in the said Prison, _viz._, in the Parish of Saint George’s-in-the-Fields, in the Borough of _Southwark_, in the County of _Surrey_, and did put Irons and Fetters of great and immense weight upon his legs, and an Iron Instrument, and Engine of Torture, upon the Head of the said _Thomas Bliss_, called the Scull-cap, and also Thumb-screws upon his Thumbs; and the said _Thomas Bliss_ was so wounded, fettered, tortured and tormented in the Strong Room of the said Prison (which is a dangerous, damp, noisome, filthy, and unwholesome place) did put, and him did there detain several days; by means of which excruciating Tortures, close Confinement, Duress, and cruel Abuses, the said _Thomas Bliss_ got so ill an Habit of Body, that he continued in a languishing Condition till the 25th Day of _March_ following, and then died.’
Although the facts of the indictment were fully borne out by the evidence, the jury acquitted Acton. I should mention that Bliss had twice attempted to escape from the prison.
Let us pass to a pleasanter theme, and see what was the inner life of a debtor’s prison about 1750, the story of which is told in a little book undated.[50] The foot-notes are taken from the book.
Close by the Borders of a slimy Flood, Which now in secret rumbles through the Mud; (Tho’ heretofore it roll’d expos’d to light, Obnoxious to th’ offended City’s Sight).[51]
Twin Arches now the sable Stream enclose, Upon whose Basis late a Fabrick rose; In whose extended oblong Boundaries, } Are Shops and Sheds, and Stalls of all Degrees, } For Fruit, Meat, Herbage, Trinkets, Pork and Peas. } A prudent City Scheme, and kindly meant; The Town’s oblig’d, their Worships touch the Rent. Near this commodious Market’s miry Verge, The Prince of Prisons stands, compact and large; Where by the Jigger’s[52] more than magick Charm, Kept from the Power of doing Good--or Harm, Relenting Captives inly ruminate Misconduct past, and curse their present State; Tho’ sorely griev’d, few are so void of Grace, As not to wear a seeming cheerful face: In Drink or Sports ungrateful Thoughts must die, For who can bear Heart-wounding Calumny? Therefore Cabals engage of various Sorts, To walk, to drink, or play at different Sports, Here oblong Table’s verdant Plain, The ivory Ball bounds and rebounds again[53]; There at Backgammon two sit _tête-à-tête_, And curse alternately their adverse fate; These are at Cribbage, those at Whist engag’d, And, as they lose, by turns become enrag’d; Some of more sedentary Temper, read Chance-medley Books, which duller Dulness breeds; Or Politick in Coffee-room, some pore The Papers and Advertisements thrice o’er; Warm’d with the Alderman,[54] some sit up late, To fix th’ Insolvent Bill, and Nation’s fate: Hence, Knotty Points at different Tables rise, And either Party’s wond’rous, wond’rous wise; Some of low Taste, ring Hand-Bells, direful Noise! And interrupt their Fellows’ harmless Joys; Disputes more noisy now a Quarrel breeds, And Fools on both Sides fall to Loggerheads; Till, wearied with persuasive Thumps and Blows, They drink, are Friends, as tho’ they ne’er were Foes. Without distinction, intermixed is seen, A ‘Squire dirty, and Mechanick clean: The Spendthrift Heir, who in his Chariot roll’d, All his Possessions gone, Reversions sold, Now mean, as one profuse, the stupid Sot Sits by a Runner’s Side,[55] and shules[56] a Pot.