reception of Star Chamber prisoners, it was made about 1640 a prison for debtors, bankrupts, and persons charged with contempt of court, and gradually sank into a deplorable condition of social administration. A Committee of the House of Commons, appointed in 1727, brought to light a series of atrocities and extortions practised by the jailers on the unfortunates placed in their power which it is difficult even now to read of without a flush of indignation. Hogarth, in a well-known picture, has shown us the examination of the acting Warden, Thomas Bambridge, and has placed in the foreground a wretched prisoner, explaining the mode in which his hands and neck were fastened together by iron clamps; while some members of the Committee are examining other instruments of torture used for screwing up the heads and necks of prisoners. At the same time, it was proved that where money was forthcoming the Warden and his satellites allowed the utmost licence, even permitting the escape of fraudulent debtors.

Every prisoner on entering was compelled to pay six shillings to the tipstaff towards a bowl of punch, to bring his own bedding, or hire it of the Warden,-else he lay on the floor. Prisoners were frequently detained long after their period of imprisonment had expired, and almost incredible cruelties were inflicted upon them. The Commissioners found a Sir William Rich confined in a loathsome dungeon and loaded with irons, because he had given some slight offence to Bambridge. And such was the terror he excited that a Portuguese pauper, who had lain in fetters in a damp, dark cell for months, on being examined before the Commissioners, and wrongly supposing that Bambridge would resume his authority, fainted, and the blood started out of his mouth and nose.

The reforms introduced by the Committee rendered the perpetration of these cruelties impossible; but a great deal of licence and disorder still existed, and the debtors, if able to pay the turnkeys, enjoyed ample means of lightening the tedium of captivity. Though spirituous liquors were not allowed by the regulations to be brought into the prison, there were "tape-shops" in the prison itself, at which any quantity of gin, rum, or brandy (sold as "white or red tape") could be obtained. Betting and gambling went on unchecked; rackets was a daily amusement; the evenings were spent at billiards, backgammon, or whist. The rules for living outside were relaxed with the utmost freedom for the benefit of anybody prepared to pay for the indulgence. In a word, the Fleet Prison was a disgrace to our civilisation, and public opinion entirely sanctioned its suppression in 1844. Some of its aspects in the palmy days of its misgovernment are graphically depicted in Mr. Walter Besant's "Chaplain of the Fleet."

Many illustrious persons, nevertheless, were at different times included within its company of prisoners. As, for instance, the first Earl of Surrey; Bishop Hooper, the martyr; Dr. Donne, for clandestinely marrying Sir George More's daughter; the Countess of Dorset, for importuning James I.; Lord Falkland, for sending a challenge; William Prynne, for writing his "Histrio-mastix;" John Lilburne ; Wycherley, the dramatist; William Penn; and Richard Savage. Sir Richard Baker, author of the "Chronicle" which Sir Roger de Coverley found such good reading, died here, February 18th, 1645; and James Howell, author of the " Epistolæ. Ho-Eliana" wrote in this prison some of those celebrated letters.

-Richard

Among its involuntary inmates we also find :—

Oastler, a strenuous advocate of the Ten Hours' Factory Bill, was imprisoned here in 1843 at the suit of a Mr. Thornhill, Fixby Hall, Yorkshire, whose steward he had been, and published every week his Fleet Papers: a Weekly Epistle on Public Matters, ironically dedicated to the said Mr. Thornhill. A public subscription was raised to secure Oastler's release, and he was discharged on February 12th, 1844. The Fleet Prison, in its latter days, when Captain Shandon was an involuntary resident within its borders, is described by Thackeray in "Pendennis."

The Fleet Marriages.-These irregular marriages seem to have begun in 1616, when clerical prisoners living within "the Rules of the Fleet" prostituted their sacred profession in the service of the vicious and opulent. Mr. Burn, in his "History of Fleet Marriages," registers the names of eightynine of these "Chaplains of the Fleet," of whom the most notorious were John Gainham, Edward Ashwell, Walter Wyatt, Dan, Symson, Starkey, and Lando. Here is a specimen of the manner in which the last-named announced his vocation:-" Marriages with a license, certificate, and crown-stamp, at a guinea, at the New Chapel, next-door to the China-shop, near Fleet Bridge, London, by a regular-bred clergyman, and not by a Fleet parson, as is insinuated in the public papers; and that the town may be freed mistakes, no clergyman being a prisoner within the Rules of the Fleet, dare marry; and to obviate all doubts, the chapel is not on the verge of the Fleet, but kept by a gentleman who was lately chaplain on board one of His Majesty's men-of-war, and likewise has gloriously distinguished himself in defence of his king and country, and is above committing those little mean actions that some men impose on people, being determined to have everything conducted with the utmost decorum

and regularity, such as shall always be supported on law and equity."

Some of these men carried on business at their own lodgings, but most of them were employed by the keepers of marriage-houses, who were usually tavern-keepers also. The Swan, the Bishop Blaise, the Red Hand and Mitre, the Hand and Pen, and the Two Sawyers-with the Bell and Garter, and the King's Head, kept by warders of the prison-were places of this description. The parson and landlord (who generally acted as clerk) divided the fees, after giving a small gratuity to the plyer, or tout, who brought in the customers. The marriages were recorded in the parson's pocket-book, and, on payment of a small fee, copied into the regular register of the house, unless the parties wished the affair kept secret.

The Grub Street Journal of January 1735 says: "There are a set of drunken, swearing parsons, with their myrmidons, who wear black coats, and pretend to be clerks and registers of the Fleet, and to ply about Ludgate Hill, pulling and forcing people to some peddling ale-house or brandy-shop to be married; even on a Sunday, stopping them as they go to church, and almost tearing their clothes off their backs." And the writer proceeds to give a case or two, which he says lately happened. "Since Midsummer last, a young lady of birth and fortune was deluded and forced from her friends, and by the assistance of a wry-necked, swearing parson, married to an atheistical wretch, whose life is a continued practice of all manner of vice and debauchery. And since the ruin of my relative, another lady of my acquaintance had like to have been trepanned in the following manner. This lady had appointed to meet a gentlewoman at the Old Play House,

in Drury Lane; but extraordinary business prevented her coming. Being alone when the play was done, she bade a boy call a coach for the city. One dressed like a gentleman helps her into it, and jumps in after her. 'Madam,' says

he, 'this coach was called for me, and since the weather is so bad, and there is no other, I beg leave to bear you company. I am going into the city, and will set you down wherever you please!' The lady begged to be excused, but he bade the coachman drive on. Being come to Ludgate Hill, he told her his sister, who waited his coming but five doors up the Court, would go with her in two minutes. He went, and returned with his pretended sister, who asked her to step in one minute, and she would wait upon her in the coach. The poor lady foolishly followed her into the house, when instantly the sister vanished, and a tawny fellow, in a black coat and a black wig, appeared. 'Madam, you are come in good time, the doctor was just a-going.' "The doctor!' says she, horribly frighted, fearing it was a madhouse, 'what has the doctor to do with me?' 'To marry you to that gentleman. The doctor has waited for you these three hours, and will be paid by you or that gentleman before you go!' 'That gentleman,' said she, recovering herself, 'is worthy a better fortune than mine;' and begged hard to be gone. But Dr. Wryneck swore she should be married; or, if she would not, he would still have his fee, and register the marriage for that night. The lady, finding she could not escape without money or a pledge, told them she liked the gentleman so well, she would certainly meet him to-morrow night, and gave them a ring as a pledge, which,' says she, was my mother's gift on her deathbed, enjoining that if ever I married, it should be my wedding-ring;' by which cunning contrivance

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