faces
of my fellow men.

At last the day of transfer came, and, escorted by two uniformed and
armed warders, I was taken to the famous Chatham Prison, twenty-seven
miles from London on the river Medway....

"You were sent here to work, and you will have to do it or I will make
you suffer for it," was the friendly greeting that fell on my ears as I
stood before a pompous little fellow (an ex-major from the army) at
Chatham Prison one lovely morning in 1874.

I had arrived there under escort but an hour before, strong in the
resolve to obey the regulations if I could, and never to give in if I
had a fair chance; also with a desperate resolve never to submit to
persecution, come what might, and these resolutions saved me--but only
by a steady and dogged adherence to them on many occasions, through many
years and amid surroundings that might well make me--as it did and does
many good men--desperate and utterly reckless.

After a few more remarks of a very personal and pungent nature the
little fellow marched off with a delicious swagger and an heroical air.
I at once turned to the warder and asked, "Who is that little fellow?"
"The Governor!" he gasped out. "If he had only heard you!" and then
followed a pantomime that implied something very dreadful. Then I
marched off to the doctor, and next to the chaplain, who (knowing who I
was) asked me if I could read and write, to which I meekly replied,
"Yes, sir;" but apparently being doubtful upon the point he gave me a
book. Opening it and pretending to read, I said in a solemn tone of
voice: "When time and place adhere write me down an ass." He took the
book from me, looked at the open page, gazed solemnly in my face with a
funny wagging of his head, as much as to say, "you will come to no
good," and followed the little major.

Then my cicerone took me into the main building, filled up to the brim
with what seemed to be little brick and stone boxes, and, halting in
front of one, said, "This is your cell." Looking around to see if it was
safe to talk, he began to question me rapidly about my case, and getting
no satisfaction he wound up the questioning with the remark: "Well, you
tried to take all our money over to America." Then, becoming
confidential, he told me what wicked fellows the other prisoners were,
chiefly because they went to the Governor and reported the officers,
charging them with maltreatment and bullying particularly, and knocking
them about generally. Of