Chapter 4: At the Gaol Gates.
Chapter 4: At the Gaol Gates.
"Now thou mayest give
The famished food; the prisoner liberty;
Light to the darkened mind; to the lost soul
A place in heaven. Take thou the privilege
With solemn gratitude. Speck as thou art
Upon earth's surface, gloriously exult
To be co-worker with the King of Heaven."
MRS. SIGOURNEY.
I SHALL NEVER forget my first morning's work at the gaol gate, following on the incident related in the last chapter. I fear that I more than once repented of the promise I had given the Governor, and wished that I had never undertaken the cause of the discharged gaol-birds. This was not owing to any lack of interest in them, but because of a great nervousness as to the way in which they might treat me; and especially as to the effect it would have on my church and congregation, who might seriously object to the close identification which must naturally ensue between their history and that of the new cause which I had espoused.
Altogether, between my fear of what the discharged prisoners would do to me, and what my own people and the towns-folk would think of me, I had an uncomfortable time of it; and my knees trembled as I went down, almost as much as they did when I stood up to preach my first trial sermon in the little chapel, Moor-street, Seven Dials, before a formidable phalanx of ministers and friends. I had not then learnt what it is to be the slave of Jesus Christ-a condition of mind in which one becomes blessedly oblivious to what men may say or do, so long as the light of his approval shines warm and fresh upon the heart.
I cannot remember exactly how many were waiting for discharge when I reached the prison that morning, at nine o'clock. It was customary for them to be marshalled in single file along the wall, on the left-hand side, within the gate, their faces directed away from the gate, and towards the bit of garden, beyond which lay the principal portion of the prison premises. So far as I can recollect there were four or five-and all men. The gatekeeper was the only other person present as I went up to them and made a short speech. It ran somewhat in this strain:
"My lads, I have come to give you an invitation to breakfast. When a man gets out of this place he often goes straight to the public-house, and gets back among his old pals, and they pull him down. But if you come with me to a coffee-house, which is a step down the road, I will see that you have a good breakfast, and will do what I can to give you a fresh start."
They all turned and scrutinised me narrowly from head to foot, and seemed in doubt as to what to make of me; for I had no special distinctive dress, and they were at a loss to classify me with the chaplain, or the private gentleman, or the agent of some society.
However, one man touched his hat, and said, "I'll come, sir, and thank you kindly"; on which the others, one by one, expressed their willingness to do the same.
By this time the clerks had arrived in the office, and were calling for the men to come in, one at a time, to claim the money and trinkets and other articles which had been taken from them on their first admission into gaol, all these things being always carefully entered and kept. The warrants also were examined, and then placed in the discharge book, which was laid on the Governor's table to await his coming.
Presently I heard, while waiting in his little private room, his steps down the long stone passage, as he came from his own house; and I was encouraged by a very warm and friendly greeting. We had some chat, and he told me a little about the different men who were to be discharged, that I might not be quite unprepared to deal with them. These talks in after years became more and more interesting, especially as we had often to deal with those whom both of us had come to know as "old hands."
It would not be becoming for me to say all that I soon felt towards my friend, the Governor; but I had many opportunities of remarking the deep interest he evinced in the reformation of the prisoners committed to his care, and the sound advice which he was in the habit of administering, especially to young or new offenders. Nor must I forget the chief warder of those days, who took the Governor's place in his absence; nor the chaplain, with whom I was always on the best of terms; nor the clerks; nor indeed the general staff, all of them taking a genuine interest in the work begun that morning, and which, I think, shed a humane and beneficent influence on them all.
At last the hour comes for discharge. One by one, the men are summoned before the Governor, and asked if they have all their property, and if they have anything to say; and then with a word of advice or warning he says, "You may go." And each passes into the gateway, and through the little door in the big gates, back into the world, from which he has been banished for days, or months, or years.
This was always my opportunity; I went out with the first, unless I had men waiting outside to help me, in which case they took, man by man, the prisoners as they emerged, and walked with them to the coffee-house. But on this, the first morning, I stepped out with the first, and we waited together till the whole had made their exit from the prison, and then started at a quick step to the coffee-house. It was a very strange experience. There was a little group of loiterers across the road, eagerly watching to see if any of their special friends were returning to their society, and they were evidently surprised to see me in such equivocal company. As we walked along that pavement, which I was so repeatedly to tread in the early morning, on a similar errand, I felt that the shop-keepers all along the route were eyeing me very curiously.
However, we got to the coffee-house at last, and I landed all my men, without any great difficulty.
If only my pen were more quick in the delineation of character, I would now depict my friend Richard, the manager of that coffee-house, who was destined to play a very important part in the out-working of my scheme. He was a young man of about twenty-six, short, thick-set, perhaps not remarkable in his features, except for the light that shone in his eye; but a genuine man-true, loyal, chivalrous to the last degree, ready at repartee, able to hold his own with the keenest; but, as I found, a Christian and a member of a Bible-class, the teacher of which, a lady, he held in high honour.
In the whole kingdom it is impossible to find a town so well equipped with first-rate coffee-houses as Leicester. I have never seen anywhere coffee-houses which, as a whole, would compete for a moment with those erected by the Leicester Coffee and Cocoa House Company. They had some nine or ten when I left the town, and it was a luxury to go into anyone of them for a meal. The marble-topped tables were always clean; the floors always fresh with new sawdust; the provisions always of the best quality; the attendants always civil and obliging; the appearance always light and airy and comfortable. It is not to be wondered at that they are paying a handsome dividend; and that their accommodation is strained to the uttermost, specially at dinner-time, when the operatives crowd every seat and fill every corner.
"What's this that ye're up to?" was Richard's first salutation, as I entered the coffee-house with my new friends.
I told him, and said, "I want you to get them some breakfast. Where shall they sit?"
We then located them in a corner of the coffeehouse, where they were screened from the immediate observation of those who came into the bar, and agreed that we must give them something more substantial than mere bread-and-butter. It is probable that we there and then instituted the plate of ham, which was in all after days to prove so great an attraction to palates which had been long accustomed to skilly and brown bread. This, with two or three cups of tea, coffee, or cocoa, and as much bread-and-butter as the hungriest could eat, cost about sixpence per head. Sometimes it seemed that the digestion turned against the richer food, and we gave the breakfast to be taken away in the pocket in the shape of sandwiches.
It was a great business to get this first breakfast arranged and carried through; and I cannot remember any of the conversation which I doubtless had with the men over the meal. But when they had all gone, I learnt from Richard that there was no objection, so far as he could see, to our corning there every morning, as the coffee-house was always empty about that time; those who had been to breakfast having gone, and the luncheoners not having arrived.
"Are you doing this on your own head?" Richard asked.
"Yes," said I; "I don't know who's to help me."
"Well," said he, "if you won't be above taking it, I would like to give you the first subscription." And Richard put a piece of silver into my hand, which shone there like a gleam of the Divine blessing, as it was certainly the first-fruits of gifts which were to come to me from all parts of the community when the work began to be known, and which enabled me to give breakfasts to between 4500 and 5000 men and women on those same seats before I left Leicester and my interesting work at the gaol gate.