The evils of Gaol Government, however are to be attributed to those with whom they originate; for they are accountable for their acts, and if they neglect the exercise of a necessary control over their subordinate officers they are justly chargeable with the misconduct of the latter. Hence I was induced to commence a series of letters on this subject with a view to the amelioration of the wretched convicts. Of these I shall here subjoin the first:-

To the Magistracy of the City and County of Bristol.

WORSHIPFUL SIRS,
I beg leave, with all due respect, to entreat your attention to a subject of vital moment to the convicts now confined in this prison, as of all who may by possibility be brought into the like unfortunate situation.

His Majesty’s Gaol for this City and County is under your management, subject to your control, and governed by your rules and regulations. I feel assured, that, neither our beloved Sovereign, nor his able Secretary of State for the Home Department, would approve the rules and regulations now in force, and I am therefore disposed to hope that you will deign their revision and to believe that in such case you will amend such as may appear to bear with undue harshness (to use a mild term) on the unfortunate whom they may affect.

The first subject, with reference to which I will venture to obtrude my observations on your notice, is that of “diet.”

At a recent investigation before the Coroner, on occasion of the death of a convict, the Governor of this Gaol, being sworn, stated that most of the convicts were weighed as they came in and as they went out, and that it very rarely occurred that they had lost weight during their imprisonment. Now, gentlemen, I beg leave to protest against this principle, as establishing a fair criterion for an them by the “diet” allowed. The scales will not give an inference as to the health. Men are not the more sound in constitution, because heavier in the scale. Whatever the quality of their blood it will weigh its weight. A scorbutic complaint will not make a man the lighter in the scale. The poor convicts are neither beeves nor swine. I am of spare habit, your Governor is not; yet I should have the best chance in the long run, with a fair start. Hence gentlemen, I would have you to conclude that your scales are not those of justice in this instance, for I shall not require that you should fatten your convicts.

Your weekly allowance to a convict in this Gaol is as follows:-

Bread 10.1/2 lbs
Soup -peas, barley and vegetables 2 quarts
Soup -beef, liquor and peas 3 quarts
Oatmeal gruel 7 quarts.
Beef 2.1/2 lbs
Cheese 1/4 lb.
Potatoes 8 lbs.

Look, gentlemen, on the statements, and say which of the two be more just. On the comparison, I have no hesitation in asserting, that either the Magistracy of the County of Gloucester are shamelessly profligate of the public money, or that of the City and County of Bristol, disgracefully unfeeling and inhuman. May I be permitted to indulge in the argumentum ad hominum and to ask you, whether, if any of you were in the situation of one of your poor convicts, you would not be of my opinion? But I leave it to such of you as are equally worshipful in both Counties to adjust the quantum meruit as equitably as may be convenient. I do not believe the Magistrates of Gloucestershire have any desire, unnecessarily, to pamper the appetites of their convicts, and I have endeavoured to persuade myself, that those of Bristol are not altogether indisposed to give the prisoners in their Gaol a fair chance of life and health. The latter, however, I find a matter of no small difficulty; for the prison diet is, in the opinion of all medical men whom I have consulted (and they are neither few nor inexperienced nor prejudiced) insufficient, either for the preservation of health, or the prevention of disease.

You will be pleased to recollect, that this is the “working” allowance, for your regulations enforce the exaction of active and laborious exertion, to which, indeed, I only object, in so far as it presents a claim to sufficient nutriment, and which claim is unheeded, or unacknowledged by you. I would ask you, if you so treat your horse? If you work him, is he not entitled to his corn? Or, will your unjust economy induce you to send him after his day’s labour to pick up a scanty mouthful in the pasture?Such, at least, is your treatment of your fellow-creatures! Nor have you the excuse of inability, for you have ample pecuniary means, and are in the exercise of extra-judicial powers, and are certainly invested with a legal authority to enforce a sufficient provision for the prisoners in his Majesty’s Gaol for this City and County. Yet, you do not accord them a quantum of nutriment beyond that which shall barely keep body and soul together for the time being.

Can you fail to perceive the dire effects in which this treatment must assuredly result? It must reduce the strength, and undermine the constitution of the poor convict, from whom you continue your extraction of labour, until nature sinks into the arms of disease, an unresisting, and scarcely an unwilling victim! And is not this STARVATION? By what other means would you designate it? A man enters the prison in robust health; he is put on the tread wheel, and receives the prison allowance of a pound and a half of bread daily, and a pint and a half of meatless broth four days a week. He is well worked every day, and all day, with the exception of Sunday. In the course of time, his pre-acquired strength fails him, for he must not look to your diet for his sustenance. Still he must labour; he becomes weak; yet still he must take his place on the wheel. A predisposition to disease is thus created; he becomes ill; is taken from the mill, put in his cell, drinks doctor’s stuff, and dies. Yet this is not STARVATION !

Your worships ought not to excuse yourselves, or to think others will hold you excused, on the ground that the friends of the convicts may supply them with beef or with butter. They may, or they may not. The convicts may be friendless. Some of them are so. The poor boy who died on Sunday was so. But, whether or not you have to support them, and what support is there in your worshipful allowance of bread and broth? None: for I refer you to Dr. Johnson for the meaning of that term, and you will find that it is maintenance, not as applicable to life merely, for the legislature never supposed you would imagine the right or privilege of destroying your convicts by acts of open violence, but as applicable to bodily health and strength, and to which object your bread and broth are inefficient agents, if they be not, as I am disposed to think them, in their process, antidotes.

Now, there are many things which operate as of necessity on the conduct of one in straightened circumstances, but which conduct, in the affluent would be regarded, and justly, as evidence of inhumanity or meanness. I have treated your Worships hitherto as rich men individually, and as having collectively, the custody of the immense income of the Bristol Corporation. But, I may be told, that you are not so rich as others think you; suppose not:- you will be still rich enough to act justly, although it cost you a portion of your superfluity. Yet, after all, my argument, in its reference to your wealth, extends, in fairness, but thus far as wealthy men, you should entertain liberal feelings, and cherish generous sentiments, whilst, as men without a surplus of means over the demands of necessity and comfort, you should, at least, manifest a disposition to benefit the wretched, whenever you could indulge in the luxury of doing good without any personal expense or inconvenience Take them, I beseech you, which character you will, and the duties will be nearly tantamount, for should it, on this occasion, be your pleasure to be rich, you owe it to yourselves, that you support and maintain the poor captive in health and strength; whilst, on the other hand, should it be your fancy to plead poverty, you ought not to let him die of starvation, if, without any expenditure of your money, you can feed and nourish him.

I humbly beg permission of your worships, therefore, to discard my assumption of your wealth, and, with as many apologies as it may be need your sanction of my new ground of argument, your imagined poverty.

Well then gentlemen, I solicit your attentive consideration of the subjoined commercial calculation, of the comparative expense of provisioning fifty convicts for one year in the two Gaols of Gloucester and Bristol.

BRISTOL                                          £.       s.        d.
Bread, 27385 lbs at 1.1/2d         171 –     3 –     1.1/2
Barley Broth, 2600 qrts at 1d     32 –     10 –       0

Support of 50 men for 1 year      203 –     13 –     1.1/2
Yearly support of each convict        4 –     1 –     5.1/2
Weekly Support of each convict                1 –     4.1/2

Or about two-pence farthing per man, per diem

GLOUCESTER                                       £.       s.       d.
Bread, 27385 lbs at 1.1/2d           171 –     3 –     1.1/2
Peas soup, 2600 qrts at 1.1/2d   48  –     15 –     0
Gruel, 18200 quarts at 1/2d        37  –     18 –     4
Meat, 5850 lbs at 6d                      146  –     5 –     0
Cheese, 650 lbs at 4d                     10  –     16 –     8
Potatoes, 69 cwt 2q.16 lbs at 1s       3  –     9 –     7

Support of 50 men for 1 year         £418 –     7 –     8.1/

Yearly support of each convict         8 –     7 –     0.1/2

Weekly Support of each convict             3 –     2.1/2

Or about five-pence halfpenny per man, per diem

A poor man may be honest, and although poor may render himself serviceable to his fellow creatures, and if it will be any consolation to your Worships, I will tell you that I am also poor, as the world goes; so poor fellows all, let us jog on together along the road of good fellowship with the City of Utility in our view until I am obliged to branch off to for the Borough of Tenterden, or you feel disposed to turn sail and back out of the bargain.

Why really, gentlemen, you could scarcely keep a cur for the money, and thrice the amount would not fatten a pig to a profit! This is truly the way to become wealthy, if you could only persuade people into the somewhat novel method of living on two-pence farthing per day, and at the same time acquiring, as it were gratuitously and into the bargain, that respectability rotundity which shall make them weigh heavier than ever an Alderman of the first water! Command me to your bread and broth say I, for it is high time I put off my spareness and pull on my rotundity! Eh? your Worships, why his Majesty might here recruit for his Beef-eaters or Yeomen of the Guard, as they then should be called with the term of Broth-Boys, as the denomination, seeing that they eat no beef, yet grow portly and royal Shame on your worships of Gloucester, whose convicts at this rate must over-run the County like so many living skeletons, consumers of beef and potatoes, themselves graduating towards consumption!

Well, but let us return to the pounds, shillings and pence, that I may show to your Worships how to be more just towards the poor convicts without additional charge of a single farthing, in short, how to find them better at a less cost.

Need I inform you that the more prisoners there are in Gloucester Gaol the less its expense to the County? It is necessary that I remind you, that they there earn more than they cost Any surplus is applied first, in reduction of the general charges, and next in the bestowal of a bonus to discharge convicts, for subsequent good conduct? You surely cannot be ignorant of the moral influence as well as pecuniary advantage of such a system of Gaol Government, the system of the philanthropic Howard, worthy your own beneficent Colston, deserving adoption (although late) by the hundreds who so very recently commemorated by their eating and, far better, by their charitable donations, the anniversary of that immortal Bristolian.

You have a treadmill, but you grind no corn; you keep it constantly at work, but for the greater portion of the time the men are at the labour-in-vain job of working against added weight, for the mere purpose of punishment! I know, I may be told that you have not a sufficient number of convicts to tread the wheel so that it should give action to the mill-stones; but why not have the stones of different dimensions, that by shifting the impetus you might at all times have worked productively in proportion to the strength of the gang.

Gentlemen, you need but declare that you have no objection to our convicts being fed as well as those at Gloucester, provided it cost you no more money, and I will engage they shall have precisely the Gloucester allowance, without the charge to you or your fellow-citizens of a single shilling per annum for their support, without working them more than they should be worked, or punishing them more than they should be punished, without interfering in the remotest degree with their safe custody under the existing regulations on that head, in short, without effecting other alterations than these; that they should be better fed, that their spirits shall not be broken by labour-in-vain, and that their health shall be preserved by exercise and nutriment.

Gentlemen, I pledge my consistency, and there is not a pawnbroker in Bristol who will deny that it is worth something (perhaps, something better than a prison) that I will enable you to do all this for the sake of the poor half-starved convicts and the approbation of my own conscience. Is it a bargain your Worships? All bubbles barred, and without affecting your persistency in the King’s Bench concern – for, and as it may be of some consideration with you, the philanthropic plan will not lack its momentum in Bristol, whenever it may be my lot to endure incarceration at your Worshipful hands. I subscribe myself, Worshipful Gentlemen, (because I can’t help it) Your poor Prisoner,

JAMES ACLAND.

Bristol Gaol 21st November 1828.

Bristol Gaol, Debtors Side.
Ward 1
16th November, 1828
SIR,
As one of the coroners of the city and county of Bristol, you will probably receive official intimation of the death of a boy, who died somewhat unexpectedly this morning, in one of the convict wards of this Gaol. Without presuming to dictate to you, Sir, and without wishing to impute or insinuate censure to or against any particular individual, I yet feel justified in my present interference, by these considerations:

1st. – The deceased (who- was, I understand, about 15 years of age, and had been in this Gaol nine or ten months) was absolutely friendless, no person having visited or inquired about him since his commitment.

2ndly. – The prison regulations are a disgrace to a civilised country, as they are repugnant to Christianity, and have been, as it appears to me, the more or less proximate cause of the friendless child’s untimely death.

Permit me to suggest, that you have now a duty to perform, embracing an enquiry of vital importance to the poor and unfortunate, and although, in the course of the necessary investigation, you may be impelled by your duty into unpleasant collision with the authorities of this City, I will not for a moment doubt your sacrifice of all personal feelings, rather than of your independence as a man, your humanity as a Christian, and your responsibility as a Coroner.

I take leave to inform you, that I have addressed a letter on this subject to the visiting Magistrates of this Gaol, of which I have entered somewhat more into detail. I have expressed my desire to be present at the inquisition, in order to adduce such evidence as I may be able to offer to the consideration of the Jury and yourself, touching the death of the poor lad, and affecting the health of other convicts in this Gaol.

I trust, Sir, you will not be disposed to refuse such my request, especially as the deceased has no friend in Bristol. Requesting, therefore, an early acknowledgement of this communication, I subscribe myself,

Sir,
Yours, with respect,
J. ACLAND.

To: MR. J. B. GRINDON, Coroner.
Bristol Gaol, Debtors Side.
Ward l
16th November, l828

WORSHIPFUL SIR,
I take the liberty of addressing you as one of the visiting Magistrates of this Gaol, relative to the death (this morning) of a poor and friendless boy, in one of the Convict Wards – and to express a hope that under the proceedings of the Inquest to be held by the Coroner on the body, a strict and necessary investigation will be made, whether or not the death of the lad was caused or accelerated by the (as they appear to me) anti-Christian regulations of those who control the management of this, His Majesty’s Gaol.

I am prepared, Sir, to encounter the sneers of the weak and the censure of the heartless, in thus stepping forward to prefer a charge of gross neglect as the cause of this boy’s death. To whom such neglect may be attributable the result of the enquiry will show. It is not my object to charge any man, or body of men with so serious a dereliction of duty, but it is imperative on me thus openly and fearlessly to avow my conviction that the poor boy has not been treated, with even common humanity: light such charge where it may.

Sir, I am aware that no investigation can resuscitate the inanimate corpse, but it may promote the health and preserve the lives of other unfortunate beings in the like situation with the deceased, by reforming abuses, if they exist, and by removing the opprobrium of humanity from the party to whom such suspicion may now attach.

Lest, however, you should suppose I prefer this serious charge without sufficient data, or that I lack courtesy in my manner of advancing such charge, I have no objection to enter on a statement of some of the particulars from which my conviction of gross neglect somewhere has resulted.

1. The deceased, having no friends from whom he could obtain occasional supplies of food, lived entirely on the Gaol allowance, viz. a pound and a half of bread daily, and three quarts of barley broth per week. I think it must be admitted that this allowance is, generally speaking, insufficient, and in particular instances of constitution or habit of body, altogether short of the quantum of nutriment it affords. On these facts I submit, Sir, that it should be ascertained whether an insufficiency of nutritive food did not predispose disease in the deceased?

2. The deceased complained frequently of a pain in his side, as produced by exertion on the tread mill; a description of labour which is certain death under particular circumstances. On this fact I would respectfully suggest the enquiry, whether the death of this poor boy was not accelerated by an excessive exaction of labour on the mill.

3. The cells of the convicts have stone floors; and are without a fireplace; the windows are unglazed; the shutters in so disgraceful a state as to be pervious to the wind and rain; no fuel is allowed for firing, and the quantity of bed-clothes is but one sheet and two blankets. Sir, is it is not possible, that these hardships may have affected the health of a child, perhaps of a delicate constitution.

4. The deceased has been ill for about three weeks, yet, instead of being removed to the Gaol infirmary was inhumanely suffered to lie exposed to the pitiless blasts of the two or three severe nights immediately preceding the morning of his death. I ask, Sir, was not this a most culpable neglect in some quarter? and in which?

I humbly trust that I have now stated sufficient to induce your worship to accede to my request, that as one of the visiting Magistrates of this Gaol you will render your effective assistance towards promoting a rigidly impartial enquiry into the cause of this poor boy’s death; and to which end I feel it due to justice, that I offer and beg you will accept such assistance in the furtherance of the investigation as I may be able to afford. I take leave further to suggest to your worship, that an examination of the body, by other medical gentlemen than the Gaol Surgeon appears to me desirable, and with which view I tender the evidence of practitioners of known character for experience and probity.

I subscribe myself, Worshipful Sir,
Your obedient Servant,
JAMES ACLAND.

Mr. Alderman BARROW.
Mr. Alderman G. HILLHOUSE. [a copy sent to each]

I received the following reply from the Coroner :

Union-Court,
Bristol,
Nov. 17th, 1828.

SIR – Your note of the 16th. reached me this morning. I am obliged by your suggestions as to the enquiries proper to be made, but, perhaps you were not aware, that the first and most important reason for holding legal inquisitions in all cases of death in prisons, is to ascertain that the death was not occasioned by undue severity, or as it is technically expressed, per dure garde.

If the rules of the prison permit your attendance at the inquisition, it will certainly not be objected to by me; but, (though I blush to make anything like a reflection on a person in distress, yet your request demands it,) you must be aware, that after the inconvenience occasioned by your conduct on some former occasions, no public officer is likely to covet your presence at his inquiries. If you can give any evidence relative to the death of James Blake, your presence will be necessary at the inquest.

I am Sir,
Your obedient humble servant,
J. B. GRINDON.

The inquest was accordingly held, and the Coroner expressed every disposition to receive my evidence; but on stating that my confinement in Ward 1 prevented me from personally witnessing the transactions in another, and that being so, I was therefore unable to give what might strictly be considered evidence. I was desirous of submitting to him such points for enquiry, as appeared to me necessary for the attainment of justice, he intimated that such course was irregular, and informed me that he was ready to examine any witness I wished to have called. Now this was not what I wished, because I was desirous to avoid subjecting any individual to the more rigid surveillance of those in authority; but, on a moments re-consideration, I stated that, believing the Governor to be a humane and just man, I had no reason to fear he would manifest any ill-will against those who only desire to act right, I would request that Joseph Llewellin the convict servant to the debtors ward should be examined. He was accordingly sworn, but his evidence was worth but little, for the Coroner was tied by rules, and those rules would not admit the course of investigation which appeared to me necessary. So, on the evidence of the Surgeon, who did not remove his patient to the Infirmary, (and who deposed, that he died of an inflammation of the lungs, and that it was unnecessary to remove him to the Infirmary,) the Jury found that the poor boy died a natural death.

That the governor of the Gaol, and Mrs. Humphries his wife, and the attendants did all they could for an invalid, whom it was not considered necessary to remove from a cold cell to the Infirmary, I am quite satisfied; but whether the death of the deceased did not result from an illness predisposed by the regulations of the Magistrates and not understood by the Surgeon of the Gaol, I was not quite convinced; for I thought the Coroner should have called for other medical opinion than that of the Gaol Surgeon, and that the nutriment of the Gaol allowance might have weakened, as the exertion of the treadmill might have injured, the constitution of a lad of the age of the unfortunate James Blake.

The visiting Magistrates, (Alderman G. Hillhouse and Barrow) called on me the day following that on which the Inquest was held, and we accordingly, entered into a conversation, arising out of the communications I had made with them. It is due to those gentlemen, that I state, they manifested no feeling of displeasure at my interference, professed an anxiety that, whatever abuses existed, they should be remedied – admitted that the corporation, was rich enough to mend the windows of the convict’s cells, (when the Governor assured me that the shutter of the deceased cell, as all other shutters were sound) and declared that, although there was no magisterial regulation, to that effect, yet the Governor knew, that if he afforded nutriment, to a person for whom the Gaol food was not considered sufficiently nutritious, he would not be permitted to be a loser by his humanity.

Having with pleasure heard these sentiments, from the worthy Magistrates I asked if they were prepared to enter, on a serious investigation of the complaints detailed in my letter; to which, it was replied, that they were not, and that the universally admitted kindness, and humanity, of Mr. Humphries, placed him and his officers above suspicion. With this expression of feeling, I most warmly, and sincerely, concluded, but, I stated that I regretted I could not entertain a similar feeling, as it regarded the conduct of the Surgeon, or as it affected, the regulations of the Magistrates. So ended that interview, which was marked by an urbanity, which becomes the Magistrate, not less than it becomes the gentleman.

After the departure of these gentlemen, I sat down in my cell, and on mature reflection, resolved that on completion of my duty on this occasion, it would be necessary, that I should address the general body of Magistrates, on the rules which no divisional part of that body could be expected to alter, and the Surgeon of the Gaol, on the duties connected with his official situation.

That evening I opened a hamper from a kind supporter of my plight, a Mr. Day. It contained some wine and walnuts. During a moments rest from the preparation for the next issue of The Bristolian, it occurred to me that, as my enforced friends relished with Mr. Day’s very acceptable gift, that there are other hard nuts to crack, of the magisterial kind !

In furtherance of the claims of the Convicts on the consideration of those in authority over them, I therefore, with haste, forwarded the following letter:-

To Mr. MORGAN YEATMAN, Surgeon.
Bristol Gaol,
Debtors’ Side. Ward 1
November 21, 1828.

SIR, – If I offer no apology for thus addressing you, it is because I think such act imperative on me under the circumstances which brought me before the Coroner on Monday last. On that occasion, you gave your evidence as to the death of James Blake, and stated that he died from an inflammation of the lungs, that you did not think it necessary to remove him to the Gaol Infirmary, and that you thought his cell as warm and comfortable as was desirable for a person in his situation.

Permit me to ask, Sir, whether you are quite certain as to the nature of his decease? Was the immediate cause of his death an inflammation of the lungs? Do you merely think so, or have you such knowledge on physical demonstration? You will, of course excuse my bluntness; it is my way, and I am not answerable for such infirmity, if it be one; besides, I am desirous you should clearly understand me, especially, as I am impressed with an idea that either you were in this case professionally ignorant, or professionally negligent. Nor can you shirk my question, for you are a servant of the public, and derive a sufficient salary from the pocket of the public, whether you do much or little. And is it not of moment, aye! and of the first moment, that a professional gentleman in your capacity, should stand above suspicion of either ignorance or negligence? Sir, I thus afford you the opportunity of doing so and assure you I entertain no malignity towards one whose name I never knew until this week, although my candour prompt the confession that I had before heard, of your rudeness of manner, and ill temper towards some poor woman in the adjoining ward, who was unfortunately under your care. I know, Sir, that it is the fashion of some members of the profession to effect the manners of Abernethie, under the shallow supposition, that the world may thence conclude they have his talent, but the prickly stem of the thistle does not convey the fragrance of the moss-rose to its flower, neither is the blunt manner of a Surgeon, evidence, of an Abernethian mastery of his sublime science.

But to the principal subject of my letter:- either James Blake died from an inflammation on the lungs, or you are not qualified for the situation you hold; for you certainly had ample opportunity of ascertaining that fact.

I am therefore justified by your oath, in assuming such disease to have been the cause of this poor boy’s death, and on such assumption, I proceed to show by argument, that you have been grossly negligent of your duty, or rather perhaps I should say, why I conceive you to have been so.

Sir, it was given in evidence before the Coroner, that the symptoms of the disease, in this case, were a cough and a pain in the side, and it was on account of these complaints by the poor boy, that he was removed from the tread-wheel. On the propriety of working a boy, of 14 or 15 years of age at the mill, I shall address others, as I conceive that, under the regulations of this Gaol, your duty commences only on a manifestation of indisposition, or, in other words, that your efforts are to be directed to the prevention of death, and not to the prevention of disease.

But, Sir, if James Blake died from inflammation of the lungs, do you not think that when first he was placed under your care, you ought to have directed that he should have been taken to the Infirmary? You knew the nature and construction of his cell; that its floor and walls were of stone; that its window was unglazed, and that the shutters, however well they may have been constructed, and however sound they may be at this moment, cannot effectually exclude the night air. You knew too, that there was no fire-place in the cell, and I am bound to suppose, you knew the deceased to have been afflicted with a cough, and a pain in the side, when on the mill.

On your acquaintance of these facts, and on your professional knowledge (for I put personal feelings out of the question) I ask you as a Surgeon, duly licensed, and taking upon you the surgical duties of one of his Majesty’s gaols, and I ask you before your professional brethren, do you think yourself justified in permitting a poor patient to die in such a cell, when by a word, you might have had him removed to a place, where he would have received the attention of a nurse, where the atmosphere might have been regulated to any required temperature, and where he would not have suffered to leave his bed without your concurrence, as he appears to have done by your evidence before the Coroner.

I know, Sir, that on this question I have staked your professional character, but when the interest of the public is affected, I am justified in having done so. Nor can I forget, nor should you forget, that your Gaol patients claim even more attention and care on your part, than those who select their professional attendant, and if they have, or imagine they have, ground of complaint, can discard him and elect another.

Sir, your appointment to this public situation, implies, on the part of those who appointed you, a confidence in your talent and integrating the latter quality, in other cases than those of gratuitous patients, is insured by your immediate interest, but here you receive no personal fee, here your patient cannot relieve himself from your visits – here you receive an annual salary for much or little service, as it may happen, and for attention or neglect, as it may be. Here, therefore, your integrity is necessarily assumed; you are appointed to your responsible office, in the confidence of its existence; and if you possess not that integrity, it only costs a few convict patients the termination of their lives, and dead men and prison walls tell no tales.

Sir, if you have the feelings of which I will not believe you destitute, you must admit, that the case is a strong one, of claim, first on your attention and vigilance, and secondly, on your jealousy. Lest you should be thought deficient either in professional talent, or professional integrity.

Perhaps you have the virtue of ambition, for there are many incentives to its beneficial indulgence in this City; and if, Sir, you aspire to any of the many lucrative appointments, in order to which you must primarily attain the favourable opinion of your fellow citizens, seek that available testimonial to your professional integrity, the faithful discharge of your duties to those upon whom your attendance is compulsory , and whose best interests are entrusted in your hands, by those who appoint you to the office you fill.

I am, Sir,
Your obedient Servant,
JAMES ACLAND.

On Saturday, 17th October 1828, I had retired to bed, together with my wife and child. That evening between the hours of 11 and 12, the bedroom door was forced with great and sudden violence, without previous demand being made or any warning being given, and I was taken from my bed by two of the Corporation officers, on the bail warrant dated nearly two months previously and put into the custody of the Sheriff’s officer named Morgan.

I had been a day and two nights in the house of this officer, when, I was taken before Mr. Gabriel Golding, the new Mayor of Bristol. That gentleman was pleased most pointedly to disown being one of my prosecutors, and to express his regret that he should be called upon to sign the instrument of my committal to prison” The right worshipful gentleman did himself honour in such avowal and declaration; but it was a matter of course that he should sign the warrant, and he did so. Morgan then escorted me to the Gaol.

On arrival at the Bristol Gaol and after a short wait for the appearance of its governor, the Sheriff’s officer took his departure. He took with him my sincere acknowledgement in that I was a breakfast and a plate of hashed beef in his debt – unless indeed some one had made, or had promised to make that account square with the gentleman? Be that as it may, a very few shillings will settle the business, and rub this weighty obligation.

I found governor Humphries a very obliging gentleman, albeit somewhat blunt in his manner. But rough or smooth, a diamond is a diamond, and it is said, ‘time and a little rubbing will bring out its brilliancy.’ He directed a portly page, one James Vowles; (man enough, I think to eat me at a meal), to introduce me to the society of suspected debtors of the first class, and in a little time I found myself quite as much at home as a man could be who knew he was all abroad, and that his wife and child were at home without him. What was worse still, and proved a severe trial for my philosophy, without that, which, as the world goes, is more indispensable than husband or father; the bread and cheese or the means of getting it for my family. But a friend, Henry Phillips gave help in the most practical of ways and so none of us died of starvation, although we all were continually frightened to death by the fear of not living!

My new lodgings are well worth describing, for it is not every reader that has been in a Gaol, nor every Gaol-bird that publishes his life and correspondence.

The day-room or kitchen is about 25 feet by 16 and is common to all the prisoners of the ward, of whom there were nine when I entered. In this room those who pleased, cooked, ate and smoked; many canvassed sections of the Insolvent Act, cursed their hard- hearted creditors, and complained of their many and more deceitful friends, who had deserted them in their hour of need. Besides the ward-room, each prisoner has an upstairs cell to himself; these are of two sizes, the smaller is about 9 feet by 7, the larger 13 feet by 9.

There is one feature I must add about this place, and which says much for the governor, his lady and their factotum Mr. James Vowles. Every room is as perfectly clean as soap and white-wash can make it. I verily believe that were a premium of fifty pounds to have been offered for a flea or a bug, not one could have been produced for love or money, in our ward at least, and I have no doubt all the wards are alike in that important qualification, cleanliness.

It was not long before I acquired a knowledge of the magisterial regulations on which I shall hereafter have occasion to remark, and which I shall here insert.

The prisoners are locked in their cells at ten o’clock at night, their door being unlocked at about seven in the morning; they have then access to their cell, the day-room and the ward-yard until dusk, when they are locked in the house, and at ten o’clock are warned from the day room to their respective chambers.

As I do not intend to offer any observations on the internal arrangements of the prison in this chapter, I shall proceed briefly to state the rules applicable to visitors.

I. No male visitors are admitted either into the building or yard, not even a father, son, or brother.

II. Wives, mothers, or daughters, are admitted to the building on Monday’s, Wednesdays, and Friday’s, from 10 to 1, leaving it between 3 and 4 in the afternoon.

III. On the other four days of the week the rules apply to all. visitors equally, whether male or female, stranger or relation.

IV. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, visitors are admitted from 10 to 1 and remain until 3, but their communication with the prisoners is restricted to such as can be carried on through the iron-grating running across the narrow end of the ward-yard, or that across the passage leading to the day-room. It may be as well to observe in this place, that the yard is an imperfect square, its length being about 120 feet on one side, and 90 feet on the other, and its breadth 60 feet at the lower, and 12 feet at the upper extremity.

V. On Sundays no visitors are admitted.

If the anxieties of a prison existence can be disposed of, a man, that is, a single man, may live comfortably enough on an income of a pound a week; and this only so long he is a sociable sort of being, and philosophical enough to make every man his companion, who is forced into this society, if he can, when locked in his cell, forget that he can’t leave it, and if he can go to sleep as soon as he stretches himself out at night. And, after all, a Gaol is of infinitely lighter restraint on the body, than the diseased, and weak, and the fragile body, on the aspiring and immortal spirit, which it enchains and encumbers!

The subjoined anecdote, will render these otherwise indistinct allusions somewhat mere intelligible.

Shortly after my commitment, a friend took an advertisement to Mr. Gutch (the proprietor of “Felix Farley’s Journal,” published in Bristol, and part proprietor of the “Morning Journal” (ci devant “New Times”) daily London Newspaper). The object of the advertisement was to raise the pecuniary means for obtaining a Habeas that I might move for a new trial in the Court of King’s Bench. The terms of the advertisement had reference to my brutal and illegal caption. Mr. Gutch, therefore, refused to insert it (and very properly) until he had ascertained that the charge against those officers of the corporation was correctly advanced. Messrs. Brice and Burges, the solicitors for the prosecution, were therefore applied to on the subject, when they admitted, as then could not deny, the facts set forth in the advertisement. “But” said they, ” did not Mr. Acland say anything of the liberal treatment he received from Mr. Morgan at the lock-up house? Did not he tell you of the tea and toast he had for breakfast. Did he say nothing of the plate of hashed beef sent up to him from Mr. Morgan’s own table? In consequence of this conversation, Mr. Gutch refused (very improperly) the insertion of the advertisement unless a paragraph acknowledging the liberality of Mr. Morgan, was introduced. The friend, in question, gave way to the sine quo non of the independent editor of Felix Farley, paid his demand and the advertisement was inserted.

In order to prepare a room for the reception of a successor, it is well scrubbed and thoroughly white-washed on the departure of the occupant, Only the most decent of the convicts are allowed to attend the ward for the purpose of keeping it clean. They act as a servant in every respect, receiving a shilling a week and all their victuals from the members of the ward. Need it be said that this office is considered a most enviable one, for two reasons; it takes the poor fellows from the tread-wheel, and gives them better grub than they could have otherwise obtained.

On the 20th of August 1828 at the Summer Assizes, I was tried before Mr. Justice Parke at the Guildhall of the City and County of Bristol, for the publication of certain libels in my Bristolian publication during April 1828 on the Corporation of Bristol. I was then and there convicted of such offence with the sentence being deferred until some future time.

The following inclusion being an example of just one small part of the evidence given in support against me:

(The Bristolian Friday Evening, 4th April 1828)

BRISTOL MAGISTRACY.

In our animated versions on the condition and conduct of this notable body, we are unable at all times to draw such distinction between its different members as a difference of character, talent or other qualifications, might claim or justify. None, we should have thought, could suppose that our general observations were intended as equally applicable to each individual Magistrate; and we therefore devote an article to the desirable purpose of explaining ourselves on this point.

Our objection to the constitution of the magistracy of our City, cannot bear the subdivision of apportionment. Each member of the firm, whatever his private resources, must, however reluctantly, submit to the inconvenience of exposure, as connected with his less solvent associates in the business. And if there be in this ill-reputed body, as we hope there are, some in whose estimation public opinion is desirable, and public contempt objectionable, we would suggest that the line of proceeding alone compatible with present honour and posthumous character is, immediate secession from bad company; for the experience of each successive day but adds fresh and varied evidence to the truth of the aphorism, that by the company a man keeps his disposition and habits may be best ascertained.

There are circumstances, indeed, which might justify a course directly at variance with that to which we have alluded; such, for instance, with a needy man, as the necessity of availing himself of the ways and means derivable by Corporators from the abundance in the corporation coffers or with a patriotic man, as the rational expectation of converting his brethren from the error of their ways. But we fear any hope of the latter can only be attributed to an ignorance of the world, or to a too sanguine temperament. As to needy men, members of the Bristol corporation, the supposition was incredible, or would be so esteemed by a vast majority of our readers. It is not very easy, neither indeed is it very desirable, to fathom the pecuniary depth of an Alderman’s purse, and the public opinion on such a question can only he formed on the precise quantum of information which the individual may please to amalgamate with his conduct. But if we were to form our opinion on this standard, we might be led into error by the profundity of an Aldermanic manoeuvre. It is not at all uncommon for a gentleman of straightened means to give alms in an inverse ratio to his just ability, in order that he may be thought richer than he is. So also, under the operation of the Property Tax, when it was an every day occurrence for tradesmen, with insolvency staring them in the face, to seek the establishment of a commercial credit by the sacrifice of an increased contribution to the revenue. And may not some equally weak men be as desirous that their riches should be unknown, as with the others that their poverty should be cloaked? But to explain these ideas we will illustrate our argument by a case in point:-

Mr. Camplin – the late Mayor of the second City in the kingdom – is a gentleman of whom it were impossible to suspect anything in the shape of poverty. That an individual who has so recently occupied so eminent a situation and station in the civilised world as Mayor of the second City in the first kingdom on the face of the earth, could be supposed a needy man, were, we repeat it, an instance of the most presumptuous folly. Well then, as we soar above the region of fools, we of course conceive this right worshipful ex-Mayor a man of unbounded wealth. And yet he may be one of those whose modesty is father to the thought, that a suspicion of wealth is prejudicial, and should be counteracted by the occasional semblance of poverty. Such we suspect he is, and to this feeling and an ingenious talent at throwing dust into the eyes of other people, we attribute his apparently singular behaviour some time since. The story we shall here relate, as we received it, for the edification of the many, and the instruction of those who may feel desirous of the following the example of the worthy ex-Mayor.

Mr. Camplin (so runs the tale) being somewhat interested in ascertaining how far a certain quantity of small coal might be made to diffuse sufficient warmth among the right worshipful household, directed his coachman to buy a savage dog for the purpose of guarding the said coal from the intending shovels of the un-experimental cooks. A savage dog was accordingly sought and found a sufficient collar, duly engraved, was ordered, made and delivered; – all the preliminaries for the master effort of economical ingenuity were well established, when, the unreasonable dog took it into his head that the cook deserved a warm return of his gratitude for the skin and gristle she had so plentifully supplied, and slipping his collar bolted. The dog seller sent in his bill. “Now” thought Mr. Camplin, “If I pay for the dog, the dog seller will think I have more money than I know what to do with, so I won’t pay for the dog.” And he would not pay for the dog – and he did not pay for the dog, or the dog collar, until during his Mayoralty he was summoned to the Court of Conscience, of which he was ex-officio chief, when, notwithstanding much show of resistance, that independent Magistrate, Alderman Haythorne, persuaded him to dub up by the observation, “It should have been paid when it was first demanded, and really you have no ground for hesitating to do so.” Accordingly, Mr. Camplin paid for the dog, consoling himself with the reflection that the dog seller could not now suppose he had more money than he knew what to do with.

But not to forget that the tale is but an illustration of our argument, we return to the point from which we have wandered, and assert, that however suspicious of poverty the assumed economy of some Aldermen may be, it cannot be supposed that any worshipful gentleman could desire to wear his gown merely for the sake of the good things to be got by so doing. There is therefore little excuse for remaining in a corporation one moment longer than the connection shall be conducive to, or consistent with, the personal honour of the individual.

But when we write of the conduct of the magistracy, we intend and desire to be understood as intending a personal reference to the particular Magistrate. And this too, in justice to others; for the saddle should be girthed on the right horse, or the unfortunate locum tenens might be severely galled by the unwise misfit.

MAGISTRATE JUSTIFICIATORY
CHARACTERS OBSERVATION.

Gabriel Goldney,Esq.
Wicked – Opposed to the people; and seeking the destruction of their rights.

Thomas Daniel, Esq.
Unfaithful – In misapplying the talents entrusted to his care.

Sir. R Vaughan, Knt.
Wicked – Aiding in the subversion of popular privileges.

William Fripp, Esq.
Unfortunate – As the father of an unjust Magistrate.

John Haythorne, Esq.
Worthy – The friend of the people. A just judge.

Henry Brook, Esq.
Weak – Not daring to be for us.

James Fowler, Esq.
Weak – therefore against us.

W. Fripp, Jun. Esq.

Vicious  – The unjust advocate of private trial in a free country.

G. Hillhouse, Esq.
Weak -  Not daring to be for us.

J. George, Esq.
Weak – therefore against us.

John Barrow, Esq.
On his probation.

Now, it appears to us that the worshipful members of our magisterial conclave may be thus classed: some WORTHY, others WEAK, and others again WICKED. Within our experience we have seen enough of these Corporators to be enabled duly to appreciate the distinctive merits and demerits of several, whilst of the rest we have naturally concluded that their indisposition to manifest an inclination on one side or the other, is unquestionable evidence of a pitiable degree of weakness.

The requisites of a Magistrate are, 1st, a due reverence for the people; 2nd, the determination, in the discharge of his duty, to be just and to fear not! On this test we have tried them, and the result of our investigation justifies the subjoined tabular arrangement.

Desirous that much appreciation may not be taken as merely founded on our opinion of desert, we are therefore free to confess that this estimation of character is the result of a solemn trial of the parties in question in The Bristolian Court of Enquiry, minutes of which we subjoin for the perusal of our readers and the furtherance of the ends of justice.

A few Boys to take out The Bristolian Publication.
Apply at the Printing Office, Union Place,
Ship Lane, Cathay; or Mr. Honywill’s,
100 Temple Street.

There had been a number of complaints sent to the Bristolian office concerning the antics of my Bristolian Boys disturbing the quiet of the City whilst selling and distributing The Bristolian newspaper. They are said to be blowing their horns continually and very loudly, and on occasions blowing their horn under some ladies bonnets.

On WEDNESDAY NEXT, the boy’s, instead of proceeding on their rounds with The Bristolian publication, will occupy certain fixed Situations from Eight o’clock in the Morning until Eight o’clock in the Evening, and I have endeavoured so to arrange the Stations, as that they shall be as centrally and conveniently placed as possible. I thus relieve the Public from the annoyance of the horns, which I have long been desirous of doing, and should have long since have done, had I known that it was certain folks intention to compel me to such a course. The Boys will remain on their stations only the Wednesdays and Saturdays. On the Thursday and Monday they will be sent through their respective districts.

STATIONS.

1. – Exchange

2. – Bottom of Park Street.

3. – Drawbridge

4. – Corner of King Street & Prince’s Street.

5. – Bristol Bridge

6. – Bedminster Bridge.

7. – Bath Parade.

8. – St. Peter’ s Hospital.

9. – Corner of Broadmead & Old King Street.

10. – Prison, Gloucester Road.

On many occasions during the next few months I visited all the Courts of justice in the City of Bristol. The pages of The Bristolian were filled with the details of offences that I felt worthy of reporting; but this act and my constant persistence had the result that on the way I gathered a reputation which put on guard many of the residing Magistrates. It is clear that some were very good at their task but most could only be considered grossly incompetent. At Lawford Gate I was violently ejected by an officer named Atkins. It is a sober thought that illustrates the task I had set myself that later at the Bristol Sessions where he appeared on the charge of assaulting me, the residing chairman of the bench on being told that I was the editor of The Bristolian; read to the jury some carefully selected, and out of context comments that I made on the Bristol magistracy,and he then openly expressed the opinion that “a man who held such views deserved to be ejected.” The wheels within wheels with each looking after its own kind was most evident. This made me more determined to battle to open all Court proceedings to public scrutiny. During the months of June and July 1827, I was ejected and assaulted on numerous occasions by officers of the Court. Things got so bad that for a time I felt it prudent to avoid making my presence at some courts and obtain my newspaper copy by other means. To this end I opened my Bristolian Office to the Public as a ‘Justice Room.’ and was known as the ‘Bristolian Court of Enquiry.’ At this pseudo Court, I and members of the public, attended each day between 12 noon and 4 p.m. for the purpose of recording the details of cases dealt with earlier at the Council House. All those present in the Court were invited to report what had transpired, with any evidence given on oath.

To gain as wide a publicity as possible on this matter I inserted the following letter in the Bristol Morning Chronicle:-

RIGHT OF ACCESS TO POLICE COURTS
(TO THE EDITOR OF THE MORNING CHRONICLE.)

SIR — At the Bristol Sessions yesterday, I again originated a case, on which the right of the public to access to Police Courts may be tried, by preferring a Bill of Indictment against the Mayor of this City, and Wm. Barrell, an officer attached to the River Police, for an assault; the former having ordered my ejection from the Justice Room on the 14th June last, pending a case of final adjudication: and the latter in having grasped my arm in execution of such illegal order. The grand Jury was composed of a body of highly respectable and intelligent gentlemen; and although the determined opposition of a few of its members protracted their decision for nearly two hours, they eventually returned to the Crown with a true bill. Immediately afterwards I applied, as a matter of course, to the Clerk of the Arraigns, for warrants against the parties — compliance with which having been refused by that Officer, I addressed the Court in complaint of such dereliction of his duty. In pursuing such a course, I regretted having been compelled to do so by absurd partiality of an underling of office, who on a former occasion had procured me the warrant without the slightest hesitation. I admitted that then, indeed the defendant was but a poor constable, and the instrument of the Magistrate; whilst in the present indictment, the Worshipful delinquent had been connected with his less Worshipful, and somewhat less culpable associate.

I express my hope that the Court would not sanction a distinction in the quality, rank or wealth of delinquents brought before it, and that the obstruction to the due course of justice created by the Clerk of Arraigns would be forthwith removed by the Court itself. The Town Clerk (Serjeant Ludlow) commented with wholesome severity on the conduct of the Clerk of Arraigns, and decided that I was entitled to the warrant as of course.

I stated that, out of respect to the feelings of his brother Magistrates, I would willingly waive my right to a warrant against Alderman Fripp, if any other course could be suggested by the Worshipful Gentlemen on the Bench which should be calculated for the attainment of the legal object of my application — the subsequent pleading of the parties to charges preferred against them by me, and sanctioned by the finding of the Grand Jury.

The Mayor decided, that there could not possibly be a distinction made, and regretting the circumstances of any impediment having been thrown in my way, ordered the Clerk of Arraigns to prepare the warrants forthwith, which having been done, they were delivered to me.

I regret to add, that I in a vain attempt to call the attention of the Court to another difficulty with which I had to contend, through the determined obstinacy of the officer to whom I have before referred, I allude to his former refusal to prepare the indictment on my written instructions — on which subject I thought it would have been well to have elicited the opinion of his superiors,

I am, Sir, you obliged servant,

JAMES ACLAND.

The eventual outcome of this endeavour was nil – the Jury quitting the defendants as no case to answer.

In due course I subsequently learnt that the Corporation solicitors, Messes. Brice and Burges, were consulting and giving advice to the Magistrates as to the propriety and legality of their ordering me to be excluded from the Justice Room in consequence of my gross misconduct(!!!) on the occasion of my attending to take notes of the proceedings.

It is now clear that in conference that they decided I had no right to be present at examinations in cases of felony, but that as to my right to attend the meetings for the public business there was much doubt, but that at all events unless I conducted myself with decency and propriety at the latter meeting it would be right to order me to quit the room. All points that I fully concur with, but continue to insist that it is customary to permit the public their attendance during any final adjudication.

On the 12th of August 1823, I shipped on board The Revenge, and we shortly afterwards proceeded to Lisbon, in the cause of the old King, who died a short time back. We had for our Captain, a very good man and a thoroughbred sailor; Sir Charles Burrard.

Whilst lying in the Tagus, our Captain invited his Portuguese Majesty to a public breakfast, and well I remember it, and so do many others, for that day we got no breakfast, seeing how we were forbid to light any fires, that no unpleasant smell might reach the nose of royalty. The preparations had been going on for several days, and when we were ready for our visitor, not an inch of wood was to be seen, for the masts were covered with flowers, and draperies, and things.

So at length the old gentleman came in a thirty-oared barge, and nearly a hundred rowers, for there were three to each oar, and were all dressed in a fine scarlet livery, looking vastly gay. Now there had come on board of us the day before, three of His Majesty’s carpenters, who had employed themselves in making a ladder, and fixing it according to their own fancy, it being, as they said, a thing unheard of that the old Don should trust his neck to any other King’s ladder.

Well, of course we receive the noble party with due honour, but surely there never was a more ill-favoured King in any Christian land, he would have made a glorious monarch of the Ugly Island, and must have borne down all opposition.

It was on the 12th of July 1824, when we sailed for Algiers, to settle a little account with the black-bearded pirates of the African coast. Our people had been somewhat insulted by the Algerines; I think the quarrel began about an affront offered to the Hon. Robert Spencer, of The Naiade; so it was determined to bring them to their senses by mild or forcible means, as might be necessary. Our Commodore had collected a pretty little fleet from the Mediterranean, and we were plenty in numbers and strength to knock the nest of these robbers about their ears. We had scarcely cast anchor in the Bay, before a French frigate of 36 guns attempted to pass athwart our bows without asking with your leave or by your leave of us; so our Captain brought her to, and told the Commodore to proceed at his peril, as the British fleet was on blockade service, and would not allow communications. Monsieur told us he had dispatches on board for the French Consul. So we made him ship his dispatches in a cock boat, and without suffering the frigate to anchor, started her homewards.

Now comes the speechifying between us and the Algerines, and we use to meet them half-way, their folks coming out of their hiding place in one boat, and we going towards them in another, until they were near enough for conversation. I was on every trip of this kind, because I had scraped up a little Arabic, which however was of little service to any body. We were very careful not to touch the Algerines boat, as that must have put us under quarantine; but the longbeards were very polite in handing us a pinch of their snuff, in their large gold boxes, and some of us thought what a pretty list of prize money these would be in a storm of the town.

Well, as our speechifyer could make no hand at it, for the Algerines are a stubborn set, we began  to prepare for beating a little sense into them from our port holes. The ships were formed in a crescent line; the Revenge in the centre. We had The Lightning steam packet from Portsmouth as a despatch boat, and The Racer cutter for the same purpose. The latter was inshore and becalmed one morning, when a parcel of the enemy’s gun boats made an attempt to carry her to port. She had nothing but a few pop-guns with which to fight the devils, and sure enough they would have her if The Naiade had not tumbled a few shots about their ears from the quarter deck guns, which sinking two of their boats, drove the rest to harbour.

There seemed no chance of settling things in a peaceable manner, so we got ready in earnest. Our Captain had four of our big guns lugged up to the quarter deck, which had been supported by strong iron stanchions. The weight of each of them was 7.4 cwt., and two being placed on each side they would have done much havoc, from their elevated position, if they had been used. We were at our quarters all night, and in the morning, the Hon. Robert Spencer was sent on shore with a white flag for the last time. The Algerines came to terms; they were very sorry for what they had done; very free of promises for what they meant to do, and it all ended in a bottle and a smoke.

That morning, our Admiral, in his iron-bound coat and hat, landed, and was very well received – and all that. We each fired a salute, and the minister of the Bay came on board and shook hands with our officers, and everything went off very smoothly, until we had left Algiers and got into the rough water and the rough weather which followed.

REDDING’S REMINISCENCES. No. 1

A SHIPWRECK On the 31st December, 1815, I was, as most sailors who have been paid off are, very anxious to obtain employment on the New Year’s Day, under the prevalent belief that they will therefore be in active service for the twelvemonth. I remember spending this evening with my sister, and drinking to the hick of the next day, and sure enough I did obtain a birth on new year’s day of 1816, having shipped on board the Sea Horse, No. 2, Transport, then lying in the Thames, and bound for Ramsgate, there to take on troops and thence to Cork.

She was a ship of about 280 tons; her Captain’s name, Gibbs; the Chief mate’s, Sullivan, by whom I was shipped, and that of the second mate, Wilson. We were in all a crew of 18 hands. After some delay we sailed for Ramsgate, and in about a couple of days received on board the skeleton of the 59th foot, just returned from France, where their numbers had been greatly reduced by the destructive carnage of the ever memorable battle of Waterloo. We received 384 rank and file, 30 women, and 40 children. The regiment was under the immediate command of Major Douglas, Colonel Halstead being happily on leave of absence.

About the end of the month we proceeded with a strong and favourable breeze down the Channel for Cork, where I understood the regiment was to be disembodied. In making land on the 29th of January 1816, a violent gale sprung up; we shortened sail, hoping to weather the storm, under close reefed topsail and foresail. At dusk in the evening, the Captain directed his chief mate, being more experienced than himself, to go to the mast head, that he might know what part of the coast we were making. Sullivan an obeyed his orders, but had scarcely reached the fore topmast-head, when slipping he missed his hold, and fell on the forecastle. I immediately ran to his assistance, and found him with scarcely an unfractured bone; he was senseless. I assisted carrying him below to his wife, who as soon as she was aware of his state became deranged, and so continued from that point on. Poor Sullivan died about 1 o’clock in that morning.

In consequence of the affecting loss of his chief mate, Captain Gibbs was very greatly annoyed during the night, and appeared to have lost much of that self-command so essentially necessary to the safety of the vessel, passengers, and crew. The storm increased, and all hands being on deck, I was ordered to keep a lookout from the lee gangway for land. About 4 o’clock in the morning I perceived what was either a fogbank or the land, and reported accordingly to the second mate, Wilson, who ridiculed the idea, and, on my persisting, called the Captain, who had been sitting for some hours on the companion, apparently lost in a reverie. They laughed at my report, and I was forced to content myself with observing that, if they kept on the same tack until morning, they would find themselves on the lee shore. I then turned in, and had scarcely been in my hammock an hour, when all hands were turned up to “clear the wreck.” On reaching the deck, I found the foretop mast gone, and one of the crew aloft, with his thigh broken, in the act of hoisting a signal for a pilot.

The poor fellow cried out for assistance, and we immediately fastened a rope’s end round his body and lowered him down. We then cut away the wreck, letting it go adrift” By this time the Captain had discovered his mistake, and was extremely anxious to stand out at sea, but the foretop mast being gone and the ship not answering to her helm, this was not practicable.

The main stay sail was then bent and set, but the sheets, stay sail, and all were carried away like so much paper. Afterwards we set the main sail, but that shared the fate of the stay sail. Several other expedients were resorted to, but in vain; and the only probable means of saving the vessel now appeared that of up-helming and bearing away for Tremore Bay, the entrance of which we at length reached, and let go an anchor, but the ship dragged, and a second was equally ineffectual to bring her up, she having struck abaft, knocking her sternpost in. Major Douglas then advised the Captain to cut away the mizzenmast, which was accordingly done. The vessel was now filling, and it was about 10 o’clock in the morning. At the time she struck, the soldiers rushed into the quarter-boats, determined on securing the first chance of saving themselves. Whilst the mizzenmast was being cut away, they were advised to leave the boats, which could no longer afford them protection, as they were rigged to the mizzenmast head, and must go over-board, to the imminent danger to those by whom they were occupied. This command, however, they refused to obey. There may have been five and twenty in each boat, and thus were fifty of these poor fellows, through their own obstinacy were dashed into the sea, with many a mangled limb, and lost. We were now in momentary expectation that the ship would founder: the sea was so heavy, and the wind so strong (on the land), that the windlass itself was snapped off, and the only stick standing was the bowsprit. All hands, or at least those who had any self-command or power of thought, were anxiously seeking the means of personal safety. One poor woman, who had been confined but the preceding night, finding the births filling, ran on deck, with her infant in her arms, and screaming for her husband. She was, indeed, distracted, as were many others, and the scene of misery which now presented itself was affecting in the extreme. Major Douglas, (whose wife, daughter of about sixteen, and son somewhat younger, were on board) came out of the cabin, and walking the deck with his hands in his trouser pockets, coolly advanced to the larboard side of the quarter deck, pulled out an elegant gold watch, and hitching the chain and seals round a belaying-pin, called out “This is for any man who lives to get on shore.” Without changing a feature, he descended into the cabin, and rejoined his wife and family. They perished together.

None, however, thought the glittering bauble worth their care, and personal preservation alone engrossed every thought.

In half an hour, none but myself and a young Captain of the regiment were on deck; but many bodies were floating between decks, and many had been washed overboard.

I was standing on the larboard side of the forecastle, supporting myself by the weather belaying pin, and whilst pensively looking towards the shore, reviewing with some regret, my past sins, and bewailing my almost certain separation from home and friends, the Captain addressed me thus:- “Well, sailor, can you swim!” “Yes Sir,” I replied, “but swimming will be of little service with this sea and wind on shore, and against an ebb tide.” Yet if we can swim, we should endeavour to save ourselves. Will you keep me company in the water?” I told him I would. He had previously striped himself to his shirt, and I could not but remark, as somewhat strange, that the only other part of his dress which he retained, was a white night-cap. He said he was ready but asked me whether it was better to keep his shirt on. I replied that it should removed, which he thus did. He jumped into the water, and I was not a minute after him. We kept company, making way towards the shore, for nearly a quarter of an hour. He proposed making towards the rocky. shore which was less than half a mile distance. To this I objected, and advised making for a sandy beach about a mile and a half off. He agreed, but almost immediately sank, and I saw no more of him. I had been a full hour and a half in the water, when I neared a raft formed of spars from the wreck and lashed together. Captain Gibbs and James Thompson, a seaman, were made fast to it, they having resorted to this shift for self-preservation, as they were unable to swim. I speedily joined them in a state of exhaustion, but an overwhelming sea almost immediately washed me beneath it. I was now fully aware of my imminent danger, and heartily glad a few seconds afterwards, to find myself clear of that which had threatened my immediate destruction. I then made for a cask which I perceived floating between me and the shore. From this I derived some assistance, but a sudden wave dashed it against my breast, and I was glad from that time to trust to my own strength as the only chance of gaining land.

A merciful providence protected and strengthened me, and I at length felt the sandy bottom of the Irish coast, and with great reason thanked God for my wonderful delivery from a danger which had been fatal to more than four hundred and fifty of my fellow creatures! I had no sooner felt the ground than two farmers on horseback dashed to my assistance; one on either side, and each catching hold of an arm, carried me, scarcely sensible, to a neighbouring inn. There a gentleman of the name of Hunt was serving out liquor, and attempting to resuscitate others in a like situation. The warmth of the fire, and plenty of good whiskey soon brought me to myself, and I have ever since been fond of Irish whiskey. Most of the very few who reached land alive, died from the cold, a consequent of the lengthened exposure in the water, at that, the coldest period of the year. The Captain, Thompson, and myself, were the only sea-faring men saved, and I do not think there were more than six of the soldiers who also survived the wreck.

We three proceeded the next morning to Waterford, about six miles distant, and experienced every kindness from Mr. Alcock, the then Mayor of that City, who raised a subscription in the Commercial Rooms for the purchase of cloths and other necessities.

I and Thompson reached Bristol with the joint stock balance of 2.1/2d. and we went into the tup of ‘The Artichoke’ public-house at Saint Augustine’s Back, then kept by Mr. Bullock and who is now the landlord of ‘The Ship,’ in Steep Street. Whilst we were considering what we could get for our money, the humane landlady gleaned a knowledge of our situation; and when we asked her for twopence halfpenny worth of bread, she enquired if we had belonged to the Sea-Horse. On receiving an answer in the affirmative, she ordered meat, beer, and bread and cheese to be set before us, provided us with comfortable beds, and the ensuing morning, before we started for London, gave us breakfast and a glass of grog each.

Reaching Bath, we applied to the Mayor for assistance on our route, which he not only refused, but threatened us with imprisonment for our impudence and (as he called it) imposition.

With some trifling difficulties and much distress, we at length reached London, terminating our troubles by looking out for and finding fresh employment.

Whilst on this case, I was astonished to learn through a gentlemen of my acquaintance, two facts, which, although not directly pertinent to this case, both are certain considerations in mitigation. Firstly, each Excise officer, on successful conviction earns a bonus of twenty pound. It is clear that justice instigated under the terms of ‘mercenary twenty pounders’ is suffering a sickness in dire need of a quick cure. Secondly, not six months since, a man was caught in possession of some two or three gallons of Whiskey on board an Irish Steamer. It was seized, hut on application direct to the Commissioners of Excise, the gentleman to whom I allude was permitted the re-possession of the seized  Whiskey, on payment of the transit duty. When this case is compared with that of Redding, I asked myself if equal justice has been impartially dispensed.

On the Monday 4th. July 1827, to my astonishment I learnt that this victim to the vengeance of power and influence is no longer in the Bridewell! He was shipped on board The Racer cutter at her station in Portishead. How long he is to remain there, or whether he was to he smuggled out of Bristol without the licence of justice, I know not. But of this I am convinced, that he will not he expatriated in execution of his sentence, unless it should he deemed necessary that his absence should screen the witnesses on whose evidence alone he was convicted.

More determined than ever to prove his innocence of all charges, I sought to establish the perjury of the two witnesses Underwood and Hall. But the vexed thought crossed my mind, will the Magistrates of Bristol give me the opportunity of doing so?

Additionally, I was very much saddened to learn of the means that Redding was moved from his Bristol prison. Could no other officers be found than Underwood and Hall to convey their victim from the Bridewell to Portishead? Were they instructed to torment the poor fellow with the oft asserted lie that, but for ourselves, he would have been at liberty? Were they instructed to hurry him off before he could see the individual whom he esteems his best friend?  Was it a plan that I might not see him!?

If this be the case, their plans were frustrated! I managed to steal a few hours from a night devoted to the exposure of abuses, and I gave it to the succour of the injured. I saw the poor fellow on board The Racer on Monday night; and found him much troubled in mind – but manage to leave him comforted. For his comforts – his requirements being few, and consisting chiefly of tobacco, (of which he was a large consumer) and a few musical pieces for his flute, in which, common sailor as he was, he was somewhat proficient.

During the honest sailor’s detainment on board the King’s ship The Racer, off Portishead, every opportunity was made by my goodself to frequently visit him. On the Thursday evening I was at Portishead, with the hope of seeing this injured individual; but persecution still stalks, and this poor fellow is still the object on which the vengeance of power still shoots its bolts. An order had been received at the Cutter, ‘not to permit any person to have an interview with Thomas Redding.’

The first number of The Bristolian newspaper was published only a few day’s before the conviction of Redding, and if this paper had been any service to the citizens of Bristol, they owe a debt of gratitude to the Tory Aldermen who, however unintentionally, provoked its publication.

To resume my narrative – simultaneously with the issue of The Bristolian, there went forth an appeal to the lovers of justice to aid me in my effort to move the government to an enquiry into Tom Redding’s case so that we might procure his liberation. Among other steps in that direction, I memorialised the Lords of the Treasury and petitioned the Lord High Admiral the Duke of Clarence for his release, and after a delay of some three weeks, received his order of discharge upon the grounds that, in as much as the Act of Parliament under which he had been prosecuted and convicted, made the “landing and carrying away” of spirits which had not paid duty, material to the completion of the alleged offence; and, as the evidence clearly proved that both those acts had been performed by the Custom House Officer and not by the prisoner, the conviction was void and the prisoner was entitled to his release.

The anxiety of mind of which my attendance on this event was naturally productive, and the excitement of gratification caused by the scarcely expected realisation of my wishes, have rendered me indifferently competent to the placing before my reader a detailed account of the many interesting circumstances connected with the mere matter of fact of how Thomas Redding was at length restored to the blessing of liberty. The enjoyment of such blessing in his assurance of innocence, with reference to the charge under which he has been deprived of that Englishman’s birthright the harmless exercise of personal free-will and free-action to do what it may please him to undertake, and to go where business, pleasure, or caprice may lead him. Yet, whatever the circumstances under which I resume my pen, the public will expect such exertion as may be calculated to attain the methodical arrangement of the facts in which they may feel, or be imagined to feel, an interest” Such exertion, therefore, is mine. The remaining days of this unfortunate story unfurls as follows.

I believe I am correct in saying that, immediately subsequent to my return from one fruitless errand which had carried me from Bristol to Portishead, the Captain of The Racer had effectually interested himself for the removal of this severe prohibitory mandate.

It was under this conviction that, on Sunday 8th July 1827, apprised of the fact that a letter from the Admiralty addressed to Thomas Redding had passed through the Post-Office of the City of Bristol, I was determined on repeating my jaunt to the scene of his imprisonment; and, on my arrival, late in the evening of that day, I, in the company of two friends, had the satisfaction of being permitted an interview with the individual whose unjust case has deservedly elicited the decided disapprobation of the Bristol public.

On handing him the note, we found him not even in possession of his usual portion of animal spirits; and his mental depression was sufficiently accounted for by a perusal of the following letter:-

Admiralty Office, 7th July 1827

Thomas Redding, – In answer to your letter of the 4th instant, I am commanded by His Royal Highness the Lord High Admiral, to acquaint you that His Royal Highness cannot interfere with the due course of the
law in your case. I am, your very humble servant,
JOHN BARROW.
(so far as our talent for deciphering enables us to give the signature.)

It being my business to excite such rational anticipation of release in the poor prisoner as might be justified by my belief or judgement, I had entered into a sanguine calculation of ways and means for the creation of a fund of £100, wherewith, all other means failing, to snatch him from the jaws of destruction, when the cutter was hailed from the shore. Our enquiry of its probable object, was answered by the information that the person so hailing was one of the crew, who had returned from the port of Pill, possibly with letters from the Post-Office; on which intelligence I decided awaiting the result of this errand, so far as poor Redding might chance to be concerned.

At about half-past eleven the messenger arrived on board with confirmation of the joyful news of poor Redding’s liberation. All hands were assembled in the cabin, when their comrade entered, and it is due to them, as men, to observe, that their congratulations of their late prisoner and brother sailor, on his approaching liberation, were such as might have been expected from friends, and more than could reasonably have been expected from gaolers.

To the reprieved captive the news appeared incredible. He seemed fearful of an unfeeling intention of playing on his sensibility; and his demand on the solemn asseveration of the messenger to the reality of his intelligence will better explain the state of the poor fellow’s mind than any laboured analysis of mine could possibly place before my readers.

It is not vanity which prompts my record of the fervent gratitude with which the honest tar next turned to me, and throwing himself on the ground would have kissed the feet of the individual to whom he attributes his restoration to liberty. A gentle remonstrance against such self-abasement w as answered by the information that he had sworn a vow that he would do so on his restoration to freedom.

Never shall I forget the expressive countenance of my injured friend, as, with a grateful pressure of the hand, he thanked me for the interest I had taken in his delivery from confinement. The man who would not envy our feelings, under such circumstances, must indeed be devoid of those finer feelings of humanity by which one man is induced to serve another to the inconvenience of himself, or at his personal risk of the oppressor’s enmity.

But, not to dwell on immaterial points, I closed my Sunday’s journal with the information that, having arranged to fetch Redding with the ensuing tide, I left the cutter, and returned with our party to Bristol, arriving at about 2 o’clock in the morning.

As we were returning, it occurred to us that the many who had taken an interest with us in the desired event of Redding’s liberation would be anxious to witness the triumph of justice over perjury and power; and that a manifestation of popular feeling on the subject would read a wholesome lesson to those who exert might, in the subversion of right, rather than in its protection. I was determined that the return of the restored captive should be as public as the few hours and few pounds at my disposal would permit.

My printer was set to work before 3 o’ clock, and all other arrangements perfected by half-past ten; when, accompanied by a band of music, and having hoisted a brilliant Union-Jack, we took water at Rownham, and proceeded down the river.

As we neared Pill we determined on treating the Custom-House folks there with a little harmony. The windows of the building were soon filled with wondering faces, and the band played the  appropriate air of ‘Oh! dear! what can the matter be?’ following it with ‘Rule Britannia,’ and ‘God save the King.’

At this time Hall, one of the twenty-pounders, was pleased to descend the slip, and the cunning musicians choose this moment to gave him the following musical advice: “Go to the devil and shake-yourself.”

Leaving Pill, we proceeded into the Road, and soon came into sight of The Racer. As we drew towards her, the band again stuck up the nation air of ‘Rule Britannia.’ The late convict appeared on the gangway of the cutter, surrounded by her kind little crew, and a few minutes enabled us to carry an honest tar from the grasp of the land-lubber Hall by whom he had been so roughly handled”

Landing at Portishead Point, we made earnest preparations for a convivial hour, and, joined by some of the cutter’s crew, sat down to a hasty dinner, not omitting to pledge ourselves to the cause of the oppressed.

Re-embarking at about 4 o’clock, we returned with a brisk gale towards poor Redding’ s City of refuge; and, as we re-passed Pill, again treated the collected inhabitants with some loyal and humorous airs.

At the Powder-House we were joined by a few boats; and, as we passed upwards, were saluted by several discharges of fire-arms from the warm-hearted people, who were aware of our errand.

Below the Hotwell House, we were joined by a gaily-caparisoned boat, in which my worthy printer, with his zealous and able establishment, had embarked. Among the flags with which this boat was decorated, I observed the “Royal Arms,” “Bristol Arms,” and the “Printer’s Arms.”

At Rownham Ferry, there were collected some hundreds of the population of the neighbourhood, who greeted our arrival with deafening cheers. Redding, over whose head was a flag, bearing the appropriate inscription of “JUSTICE TRIUMPHANT,” returned the cheers of his friends with repeated bows; and the well freighted boat glided up the Avon, followed by crowds, and arrived at Bathurst Basin Steps about half past 5 o’clock.

Here the assembled people received the object of public gratulation with reiterated shouts, and many a grasp of the weather-beaten hand of our tar, as he ascended the steps, bespoke the sympathy of honest hearts in the poor fellow’s happily terminated sufferings.

A car-driver insisted on our acceptance of his vehicle, and thought himself amply  repaid by the honour of assisting in the effort  to obliterate the memory of injustice by kindness. It pleased the omnipotent crowd, by whom we were received at our landing place, to unharness the horse and drag the cart triumphantly through the different streets. The route taken was – Redcliff Street, Bristol Bridge, Back, Queen Square, Quay, Clare Street, Corn Street, Wine Street, Dolphin Street, Bridge Street, High Street, Broad Street; and it is scarcely necessary to add that the public manifestation of interest throughout this long line was such as at once to gratify the hero of the day and do credit to those by who his return to liberty was warmly welcomed.

The procession reached my Office at about 6 o’clock; and, the flags having been suspended from the windows, Redding then presented himself to the notice of the collected thousands, thanking them briefly, but sincerely, for the friendly protection which the Inhabitants of Bristol had afforded him, and assuring them that his grateful recollection of their kindness could cease only with his existence.

The cry of “Acland!” now resounded, and in obedience to the call, I appeared, addressing them (as the Reporter of The Bristolian says) as follows:-

“BRISTOLIANS , I am too much fatigued to occupy your attention for any length of time, were it not possible that time may be better engaged than in being devoted to anything that I may have to say; but I willingly obey the call which such a numerous body of the public have made” The plain, simple sentiments of the honest tar which you have just heard, and the evident emotion with which he spoke his gratitude, is far more powerful, and more likely to touch the heart, than any observations that I can make (cheers). But, I assure you, that I feel that all that a man can be supposed to experience, placed in the situation that I now am, I have as lively sensations of joy within my bosom as any whom I now behold; but I have not the time or the power to give them utterance; for it was not until late Sunday that I visited Redding, and when I ascertained that the poor fellow was free (cheers), that, “Justice was triumphant,” (loud cheers), I lost not a moment in making preparations for his arrival in Bristol, and, by the means of placards, to afford you an opportunity of expressing your feelings to a deeply oppressed and injured individual. I say he was oppressed, because he was not permitted to witness his examination at the Council House (cheers), because I was not allowed to be present at his conviction (cheers). He was injured, because he was made the victim of an officer, and innocently convicted (long continued cheering). What, I would ask, can a sailor know of the laws, much less one who has spent eighteen years of his life on the seas, an honest and faithful servant of his King and Country? (Bravo, he could not.) There are many among you, I am convinced, who would have done the same as he did, who wishing to have a little of that which a sailor is so fond, (laughing) would, after entering a store in Ireland and giving a high price for Whiskey, think that, by so doing, the duty was paid. Many, under such circumstances, might be grasped just as the poor fellow was whose liberation is now effected, and a little keg of liquor with which it was intended to regale relatives and friends, changed its owner and become the properly of a custom-house officer. I hope to see justice still more triumphant; and, this very session, if there is a possibility of gaining the requisite evidence, my every exertion shall be made to convict of perjury those who were the means of placing poor Redding within the walls of a prison. — (cheers.) I care not by whom they are protected, (cheers) however well filled may be their purses; however powerful or numerous may be their friends (cheers); you are with me! the public voice is superior to private power — the people are omnipotent! (much cheering). Justice, in a country like England, should always be fair; and those whose care it is entrusted, should be men possessing the capacity to govern, and the ability to dispense its sacred attributes. If they are of a contrary description, then all the poor will be oppressed, the rich man upheld, and the innocent convicted. — (loud cheering). Let it be understood that I speak not of this Mayor or that Alderman; that I allude not to one officer in particular more than to another. I speak in a general sense. Cases generally start up in various parts of England that warrant my assertion, and it confirms me in opinion, that no body of men, however superior in mind, or honest in heart, should be allowed, with closed doors, to rob a fellow-creature of his liberty. — (long and loud cheering.) I shall try the question. I intend preferring a Bill at Gloucester; and then we shall see whether the public have or have not an undoubted right to be present in any room appropriated for, and sacred to, the administration of justice.” — (Cries of “that’s right, ’tis a shame you was expelled,” and much cheering.) I have only now to thank you for the honour you have done me; – to express again, on behalf of Redding, his heartfelt gratitude for the liberal manner in which you contributed to his funds, and for the handsome way in which you have acted towards him this day. I am sure that he cannot forget it; and I think I should speak but the truth, if I asserted, that never will the kindness and generosity of Bristolians be erased from his remembrance. I have now done, and only in conclusion to recommend all of you who are friends to the cause which has been nobly espoused, peacefully to withdraw yourselves – return to your dwellings, and retire quietly and respectably into the bosoms of your families.”

During the still of night, just before sleep had taken its hand I relived the afternoon; . . . .  finding a carriage and pair with some thousands of elated Bristolians awaiting our arrival at the place of landing, then the triumphal procession through the City. . . . and all the time, alongside with these most  pleasing thoughts were those of  the sentencing Magistrates whose “remarkable judicial ability” had been so conspicuous in the Bristol Council Chamber, went home (it is hoped) to reflect upon their past folly and resolve upon future good conduct in the justice room. Arr, the stuff that dreams are made of. . . . .

Tom’s anxiety to rejoin his old ship the Revenge, which has been recommissioned, hurried him away from Bristol on Wednesday. 18th July 1827. Certain folks have pleased to take advantage of the circumstance to propagate falsehoods, coined for the sole purpose of personally annoying the Proprietor of The Bristolian. Immediately I heard of the whispered calumny, I exhibited the account, of which the following is a copy, having, however, a few notes added to it by way of explanation:-

DR.             James Acland in account with Thomas Redding.                      CR

June 27, 1827                                                                                                       July 16, 1827
£.    s.   d.                                                                                                             £.    s.   d.
To money recd.                                                                               By cash paid to
as advertised (a)          11     1    0                                                   Redding up to this date (b)           3    12    6
To ditto not                                                                                     By Mrs. Evens, bed in
advertised (a)                     13     0                                                  the Bridewell (c)                                 10    0
To expenses not                                                                           By Mrs. Parry, washing (d)                   4    0
charged Redding,                                                                            By 1.1/2 lb. Tobacco                            7   0
or rather incurred                                                                           By Advertisements,
by J. Acland beyond                                                                       (duty only) (f)                                     14   0
the receipts                    2  17     0                                                  By expenses to
Portishead, three trips (g)            1    15    6
By Printing and Posting (h)               15    6
By Band (i)                                 1    18    0
By Boat (b)                                 1    10    0
By Expenses with R.
at Portishead (j)                           1    14    0
By cash, Redding                              10    6
18 July.
By cash, Redding (b)                  1      0    0

Totals      £14  11     0                                                                                                                      £14     11    0

To Redding’s declaration of the accuracy of this account, three  witnesses are forthcoming if necessary.

J. ACLAND.

(a) The original list of subscriptions, “advertised” and “not advertised,” lies at The
Bristolian Office for public inspection.

(b) Amounts having Redding’s initials to them as paid by himself. The first amount of
£3 12s 6d. is Redding own account, and may be seen in his hand writing.

(c) Mr. Evens can vouch for this item.

(d) Perry, the Bridewell turn key, can vouch for this item.

(e) Of this, 1.lb was purchased of Mr. Dadd, and half a pound at a shop opposite the
Black Boy, at the foot Durdham Down.

(f) The Stamp Office may be referred to.

(g) These visits where on urgent business, which it was not thought prudent to entrust
to Johnny Mills, or any other deputy.

This item is not precisely correct, but considerably under the real amount. The
gig thrice at 9s. Boat to the cutter, after dark, twice at 2s 6d. will leave but 3s. 6d.
for road expenses.

(h) Mr. Somerton, the printer, 10s. for bill; and the bill sticker 5s. 6d.

(i) The band was under the conduct of Cook, who lives in Cider house passage, Broad street.

j) This item includes a dinner, in acknowledgement of the great kindness Redding
experienced from each individual connected with the Cutter. Eight dined, and
they were grog-drinkers; there were besides musicians, and these had something
to moisten their throats. In short, the expense was considerably more than
charged, as may be known on application to Mr. Withy, landlord of the
public house at Portishead. And, notwithstanding less is charged than was actually
paid, the Trustee of the Public can afford to deduct £2 17s. 0d. from the amount -
so charged, and the credit side would then be equal to the debit.

One word on the remaining point. Every expense was incurred with the knowledge and consent of Redding. If it were said chiefly at his request, it would still be true. The procession expenses might have been omitted, and even then the account could have been made a just one, by merely charging other really necessary expenses.

There appeared, however, no need of juggling, and as the sailor’s antipathy to “lubberly land-lolloping” has let his persecutors off, so far as prosecution goes; we are quite sure there will he few indeed of the contributors to the fund, who will object to the means resorted to for proclaiming that an act of justice to an innocent man, which, there are some who would consider, mere mercy to an ignorant culprit, (Messrs. Johnny Mills and Thomas John Manchee for instance.)

I abstain from further observation for the present, and conclude this explanatory article with assuring Johnny Mills, that his subscription shall be returned him – as soon as he sends it!

In conclusion, after passing over some £15 raised by the good people of Bristol, a very trifling effort procured Tom Redding’s restoration to his shipmates of the Revenge, and that is the last I heard of him. This episode would forever stay with me, and was the first of many times that I lent my assistance to side with the sturdy sailor. Enough that they have to risk their. lives against the wroth of mother nature and all that the sea can put upon them; or by the ill-health bought upon by their long sea-journeys or the grape-shot of our enemies; enough to suffer these and more but to suffer the cruel overseer with their savage punishments is more than any man or animal should ever have to bear.

I always enjoyed the unusual emanating from the Courts and many column inches of The Bristolian were filled with these cases. A particular favourite of mine was heard on Saturday 26th May 1827. The proceedings of this morning were unusually barren of interest” There were indeed very many cases originating in drunken squabbles, and complainants and defendants were alike anxious to put in their bruises as evidence of ill usage, but of more solid matter there was great lack” The most curious charge was that of the landlady of a Public House on the Quay, against a young woman for eating a vinegar cruet. The Magistrate stared, as well he might; the girl cried, and the landlady with a most serious aspect, assured his Worship that she did not wish to punish the poor girl, but really could not afford to lose the value of the property. “What was it worth?” “Two shillings, if you please, Sir,” was the reply. Some elucidation of the glass eating affair was now sought, but nothing beyond the assertion that she had ground the cruet and ate it, could be elicited from the whimsical epicure, who, in the event, was doomed to The Bridewell until Monday.

Of all the Schools for the study of life, there is none that surpasses that exhibition of folly, fraud, and fun, than that found in a Police Court. Nor can a novice in the ways of this wonderful world derive greater advantage from any source than a perusal of the animated volume of nature there presented to the observation of the bye-stander.

Thus, one fine summer’s day during that year, patrolling Clare Street and Corn Street, for lack of better occupation, I observed a small knot of men in front of the Council House and among them two municipal police, notably one Barrell, of whom I enquired what was going on. “The Alderman is getting through the night charges,” was the reply. I asked if it were an open Court, and was answered in the affirmative, and told I might go on in if I pleased: and I did please; and, escorted by Barrell, went in.

Alderman Fripp was the sitting Magistrate, and a charge of smuggling was being preferred and investigated. The prisoner at the bar was named Thomas Redding, and the Custom House Officer, William Underwood, told his tale. He said the prisoner had arrived on the Cork steamer the previous evening, and as the passengers landed across a plank gangway from the vessel’s deck to the quay, several had passed the ordeal of the Officer’s scrutiny at the marine end of the plank, and had duly landed. When Redding, carrying a two gallon stone bottle, was about to follow their example, he was prevented by the questioning of the Officer as to the contents of his suspicious looking bottle.” “Whiskey, Sir” was the prompt reply of honest Tom; whereupon he was turned off the ship’s deck with the intimation that he was to await the convenience of the Officer in the cabin. Underwood stated that the sailor had admitted that he had not paid duty on the whiskey, and so Redding and the spirit were duly taken into custody and walked across the temporary gangway, the criminal first and his captor, carrying the whiskey, in close attendance, to be placed in a lock up for the night and then on to the Court of Justice in the morning.

Then came the turn of the accused, whose simple defence was that he was a seaman on board H.M.S. Revenge and had obtained a fortnight’s leave, for the purpose of seeing a married sister residing in Cork. Aware of his intended visit, she had written to her brother asking him to purchase and bring two gallons of London stout, promising to replenish the bottle with the best Cork whiskey on his return to England. This contract was strictly adhered to and hence his present difficulty. He knew nothing about spirit duties; he meant no harm to anybody; and hoped the Magistrate would let him go back to his ship at once within the period of his leave. The worthy Alderman told him he could do nothing of the kind, the of fence had been cleanly proved and unless he paid a penalty of a hundred pounds, he would have to serve for five years on the coast of Africa.

On hearing the decision, the poor fellow burst into tears, and falling on his knees, implored mercy. He said that he had injured no one; that he had never been in trouble before, and that he had always maintained a good character whether on board ship or ashore.

The Alderman said that he could not help it. The prisoner had broken the law and must abide the consequences. Feeling this to be a very hard case, and acting upon mere impulse, I advanced to the desk of the Magistrate and, apologising for my interference, said that I thought if he again read the evidence, he would see that it did not bring the prisoner within the terms of the Act of Parliament.

“And who may you be, and by what right do you interfere?” enquired the Worship.

I replied that whilst my name was immaterial, the legal bearing of the evidence of the Custom House Officer and the sufficiency of that evidence to the conviction of the prisoner was very material to the poor man at the bar and to the legal administration of justice.

“You have no right to interfere, Sir, and if you say another word, you will be turned out of the Court,” was the Alderman’s reply”

“God bless you Sir; do stand by me. I haven’t another friend in the world, this will ruin me for ever,” said Tom Redding with a trembling voice, and still on his knees.

Again I protested against the illegality of the conviction and besought a hearing as to the insufficiency of the evidence.

Without another word Alderman Fripp ordered: “Barrell, put that man out!”

I felt a grip on my collar and speedily found myself outside the door of the Justice-room, where I remained until the prisoner was brought out by one of the officers, whom I accompanied to the lock-up, cheering the down-cast prisoner and promising to visit him in the evening. I well remember my dear father, Headley, saying to me, “My boy, always act upon impulse, and ten to one you will act rightly; for impulse is from the heart; whilst if you dally with natural impressions, and natural feeling and natural instinct, you are very likely to argue yourself into wrong conclusions, subjecting blood to brain, the heart to the head.”

This may possibly need some qualification; but I am not about to argue the wisdom of my father and only, refer to his advice by way of accounting for my unconsidered intervention between Messrs. Fripp and Redding. I had clearly acted upon impulse and I have never felt that I acted unwisely.

That evening, and the next day, and the next, I made myself thoroughly acquainted with my imprisoned client and determined upon my course of action for the purpose of effecting his liberation and circumventing Magisterial illegality and injustice.

On Saturday June 16th; I attended the Council House where The Right Worshipful the Mayor; Alderman Daniel and Alderman Brook were the residing Magistrates.

As their worships were about to retire, I observed that I had been waiting for some time at the convenience of the worthy Magistrates, to whom I was desirous of making a pro forma application.

The Mayor (resuming his seat, and motioning the worthy Aldermen to support him on either side), asked, “Well Sir, what is it?”

“My application, gentlemen, has reference to the unfortunate seaman recently convicted in this Court of the offence of smuggling, and whose severe punishment has, very naturally, interested myself and many others on his behalf. It will be in the recollection of Mr. Alderman Daniel, that I yesterday applied to him for an order to visit the poor fellow, with a view to effect such arrangements as might be best calculated to procure his restoration to liberty. The necessary instructions having been given to Mr. Evans, the keeper of Bridewell Prison, I this morning obtained an interview with Thomas Redding. Having good reason for desiring other communication with the poor fellow than could be afforded by the small opening in the door of the room in which he is confined, I made a request to the under Keeper for admission to the apartment. This having been refused me, and that refusal having been repeated by Mr. Evans himself, on the plea that it would be contrary to the custom of the prison so to admit me without an order from your worships. I now make application for the required permission.”

The Mayor considered for a moment and then said, “The hardship of this man’s case is admitted by the Court, and I am sure I should be very glad to promote his liberation; but I consider…. I consider Sir, that we cannot give you the permission you ask. I, for one, should have no objection; but, as I said before, I don’t think we can permit you to go into his room to speak with him.”

“No, certainly we cannot,” Alderman Daniel interjected, “besides, of what use would it be? I can’t see that any good could arise from it, for we all know it is a hard case, and I believe the Magistrates intended to send a petition to London for a mitigation of his punishment.”

Mr Harford, a clerk, informed the Court that it was sent off that morning.

Continuing, Alderman Daniel said, “And, therefore, it would be useless for you to interfere in it; besides, we can’t grant your application.”

This open dialogue continued with the Mayor adding, “The poor man’s case was brought before me some days ago, and I remember I thought the offence was very trifling, and innocently committed; indeed, I told the Custom-House people that they ought to consider well before they proceeded against him. Redding was then remanded, and I confess I was much surprised when I heard that the officers were determined to prosecute him to the full extent of the law.”

Alderman Daniel, exhibiting signs of anxiety interrupted to say, “But we already petitioned on behalf of this man, and so no permission to go into his room can be granted.”

These ramblings more than astonished me, “I had thought, gentlemen, that the permission solicited by me would be a matter of course; but, as you do not seem to view it in this light, I enter somewhat more at length into the circumstances under which I have applied to you. As a friend and advisor of this ill-used seaman, I am desirous of establishing his innocence by convicting the man, on whose evidence he was committed and sentenced, of wilful and purposed perjury. Thus, from the evidence in my possession, I believe I shall be enabled to do; but it is necessary that I should have an opportunity of private conversation with Redding, in order to fully develop the circumstances of his case, and make final arrangements of the measures which might be thought preferable to adopt with reference to any ulterior proceedings.” [Here there was a sudden rush of several individuals from the passage into the room.] “Keep the door shut! exclaimed the Mayor. I continued, “My conversation with Redding cannot, under the present arrangement, be so perfectly confidential as I desire. It will be obvious to you when I state that, at whatever hour I visit him, there are individuals present, before whom I, of necessity from such particular explanation of the plans by which it is proposed to obtain our object, as is desirable and indeed indispensable to the furtherance of the ends of justice. What assurance can I have that the under-keeper is other than the bosom friend of the man about to be charged with as gross perjury as ever was committed? And it will not, surely, be expected by you, gentlemen, that I should so endanger the safety of poor Redding as to put it in the power of any stranger to betray, prevent, and counteract those measures which are, by the conviction of your witness, to liberate your prisoner. It is under these inconveniences I apply to you for such an order on the Keeper of the Bridewell as may enable an innocent convict to establish that innocence of which he has been robbed, in estimation at least, by the wilful and deliberate perjury of another.”

“You have been told, Sir, that an application has already been made on Redding’s behalf by the Magistrates,” said Alderman Daniel;” and really you will not assist in the attainment of your object by interfering any further, I have no doubt the application will be successful.”

Exasperated by the blindness of the Court to my point, I none the less continued, “Supposing it is as successful as could be desired, his mere liberation would be an act of mercy; a favour for which it becomes not the innocent to sue. Gentlemen, this poor fellow is entitled to justice, and if we shall be enabled to show that the evidence on which he was convicted was false in some part of its most essential points, it is surely preferable that the guiltless and the guilty should participate in equal distribution of justice, than that the former should be considered as an object of mercy and the latter be permitted to escape that punishment which might operate as a wholesome caution to others subjected to a similar temptation. Besides, Gentlemen, it is less a question with this unfortunate seaman, whether he shall obtain his liberty in six days, rather than seven, than it is whether he is to be set free with the unspotted character he has hitherto maintained, or with the blasted name which the sentence on a convicted smuggler will forever be attached to him.

With due courtesy Alderman Daniel asked, “But, Sir, suppose the advice you should give this poor man might be such as ought not to be given him?”

“That is a supposition, Sir, which you are not justified in advancing,” I replied.

Alderman Daniel asked if I were a Solicitor, to which I replied in the negative. He continued, that if I had been legally qualified then there would have been no objection to my admission”

“Gentlemen,” I said, “Redding has not the means of employing a Solicitor, and I should feel obliged to Mr. Alderman Daniel if he would have the kindness to define the precise difference between a rich man’s Solicitor and a poor man’s friend; especially as I am ignorant of any legal enactment bestowing privileges on the former to the prejudice of the latter.”

Alderman Daniel attempted a reasoned reply by stating that it was more than probable that I would not provide him the same advice as that given by professional legally qualified gentlemen.

My brain was running with the well oiled wheels of the mill, “Then Gentlemen, to meet this objection, I will state, and I do so with much gratification, that a highly respectable Solicitor of this City has kindly promised his gratuitous assistance in the case of this unfortunate man; but it can scarcely be expected of him that he should lose half his day in dancing attendance at the Bridewell, when, by the interposition of another, the object may be sufficiently attained” It is, then, as the direct medium of communication between the poor client and the humane Solicitor, that I conceive I can advance the justice of this case, and I trust your worships will not refuse my application in this particular instance; and I then more confidently rely on your support, from the liberal and just view which your observations lead me to conclude you have taken on the subject of Redding’s imprisonment and sentence.”

It was now apparent to me that however clear the argument was put the stubborn Aldermen were set to have their way; Alderman Daniel added, “Why, if we were to admit you into his room, all Bristol might apply to us in a similar manner.”

I returned, “But the anticipation of so improbable an occurrence is surely unfair towards the first applicant. I would submit, Sir, that on the realisation of your fears, the objection now urged would have more weight than it can have at present.”

“We cannot permit it,” Alderman Daniel replied, “besides, we have no right to grant your application: you must go to the committing Magistrates.”

This took me somewhat by surprise, “Of whom I am entirely ignorant. Perhaps you will permit me to observe that I conceived the present Bench fully competent to the exercise of this power; and, if so, I trust you will not send me all over the City to hunt for others. I do not even know who are the committing Magistrates.”

“Alderman Fripp, and……. ,”    the Mayor paused and beckoned to the clerk for the additional information, which he gave as Alderman George Hillhouse.

In turn, each member of the Bench told me again that they could not give me the permission I require, even though they would be happy to do so if it was in their power, and I was told that I must put my request to Alderman Hillhouse or Alderman Fripp. I left the Council-House with the distinct feeling of being ‘fobbed off.’

I immediately set myself the task to investigate the current situation concerning the Petition, or Memorial, or Remonstrance that had been said, by Mr. Harford, to have been sent by the Magistrates of the City of Bristol to the proper quarter for the remission of the sentence on this unfortunate sailor. I was clearly informed, at 3 o’clock on Saturday June 16th, that it had been sent; an answer therefore might have been received on Monday morning; but four posts since have arrived and gone, and the poor fellow is still in the Bridewell.

I refrained from any active interference at this point, in the way of preparing a Petition, in case such action might have appeared invidious, and proved detrimental rather than otherwise to the interest of Redding. But now sufficient time had passed that I now conceive I may act on the supposition either that the proceeding had not been sufficiently prompt and energetic, or that there is some foul play, of which I am as yet ignorant. I shall therefore throw away any false feeling, and act upon the impulse of the heart, which truly obeyed, will seldom prove detrimental in its result.

All eventualities were being considered and by way of the most uncomfortable access through the part opened door of Redding’s cell I helped my poor friend to write a Petition pleading for his freedom. The copy read as follows:-

To his Royal Highness the Duke of Clarence, Lord High Admiral of Great-Britain.

The humble Petition of Thomas Redding, now a Prisoner in The Bridewell of the City of Bristol,

RESPECTFULLY SHEWETH,

That your Petitioner was paid off from H.M.S. Revenge, at Portsmouth, on the 11th of May, last. That your Petitioner, being naturally desirous of seeing a sister and brother-in-law from whom he had been separated for seventeen years, proceeded to Cork for such purpose on the second instant, in The Severn,’ Steam-packet, from the City of Bristol. That your Petitioner returned by the same conveyance to Bristol on the sixth instant. That on arrival of the packet in the dock, your petitioner had in his possession a two gallon keg of Irish Whiskey, for which he had paid the sum of 19s. at a spirit store in Cork, under the declaration, that he purposed taking it with him to London, and under the supposition that the high price charged him included all duty. That the person of your petitioner was seized on board such vessel, and before he had landed or attempted to land, by a Custom-House officer with the name of William Underwood. That he was detained a prisoner in the cabin, until the said officer left the packet, and that he was then landed in his custody, and placed in confinement on shore. That on the fourteenth instant, he was charged before the Magistrates of the aforesaid City of Bristol with the offence of smuggling – that he was convicted on the oath of the aforesaid Wm. Underwood, who swore that the capture was effected when your petitioner was on land” That your Petitioner is now under sentence to serve on board the Royal Navy for five years. That your Petitioner is prepared to establish the charge of perjury against the witness, Underwood, by proving that he effected his caption on board The Severn Steam-packet. That your Petitioner conceives his case one of peculiar hardship, and can refer your Royal Highness to the convicting Magistrates Messrs. Aldermen William Fripp and George Hillhouse, who in common with the Right Worshipful the Mayor of Bristol, have severally expressed their regret that the Act of Parliament on which the Customs’ Supervisor in this City had thought proper to proceed, did not allow any mitigation of the sentence. Your Petitioner humbly and respectfully conceives that to your Royal Highness, the case of an oppressed seaman cannot hut he one of considerable interest, and he therefore, in full confidence, throws himself on the justice of your Royal Highness, beseeching such and as early relief, as may be consistent with the elevated rank and truly British character of your Royal Highness, and necessary to the relief of an imprisoned seaman, convicted for an offence ignorantly committed and on the perjured testimony of an interested witness. And your Petitioner, as in duty bound, will ever pray, etc.

(signed) THOMAS REDDING.

Bristol, June 26, 1827