IX.

FIRST SIGHT OF NEWGATE PRISON.

It was in 1813 that the attention of Elizabeth Fry was first directed to
the condition of female prisoners in Newgate. At the beginning of that
year four members of the Society of Friends had visited some persons
about to be executed. One of the visitors, William Forster, asked Mrs.
Fry if nothing could be done to alleviate the sufferings of the women,
then living in the most miserable condition. The state of the prison was
at that time disgraceful to a civilised country, even after all John
Howard's labours. There were about three hundred women, with many
children, crowded in four small rooms, badly lighted, badly ventilated,
and with no bedding or furniture. They slept on the floor, some of the
boards of which were partially raised, to supply a sort of pillow for
rest; and here, in rags and dirt, the poor creatures cooked, washed, and
lived. Prisoners, tried and untried, misdemeanants and felons, young and
old, were huddled together, without any attempt at classification, and
without any employment, and with no other superintendence than was given
by one man and his son, who had charge of them by night and by day. When
strangers appeared amongst them, there was an outburst of clamorous
begging, and any money given went at once to purchase drink from a
regular tap in the prison. There was no discipline of any sort, and very
little restraint over their communication with the outside world, beyond
what was necessary for safe custody. Oaths and bad language assailed the
ear, and every imaginable horror distressed the eye of a stranger
admitted to this pandemonium. Although military sentinels were posted on