Secrets of the Prison House.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume X, Issue 22, 3 June 1893, Page 520

Secrets of the Prison House.

A WOMAN'S ESCAPADES.

BY

MAJOR ARTHUR GRIFFITHS.

V. ERE, Mr Gosnell, look sharp,’ cried the recepl*on war< l er at Hawksfield Prison one line morning. ‘ There’s something precious odd wAfeJ/ about this chap.’ It was a prisoner just brought in for horsestealing: a small, slightly-built slip of a boy, 'S' l ' dressed as a groom, in short jacket, cords and gaiters, but who wore them with a curious \ S' mixture of awkwardness and want of practice. Strangest thing of all, when the brown * bowler ’ hat was removed, a mass of dark ringlets came tumbling down upon his shoulders. * I don’t know what to make of him,’ said the first speaker. * Him!' replied Gosnell. * You mean her.' * Eh, what? Why, so it must be. But surely now—here you, whatever you call yourself, speak out—what are you, a boy or a girl ?’ Any further doubt as to the sex of this new arrival was now removed by the prisoner, who then and there burst into a torrent of teais—a woman’s unfailing resource in trouble. * Well, here’s a rum start I’ cried one officer. ‘ You must not stop here. Run, Gosnell, and fetch the matron over.’ * It’ll be better for us to take her straight across to the female side,’ said the other, with prudent anxiety to be rid of the inconvenient charge.

The news spread rapidly that a woman, disguised as a groom, had been detected in the male reception ward, and the governor himself stepped over to the female wing of the prison to hear the rights of the story. There she was, answering now to the name of Josephine Winter; and openly avowing her sex, although the name on her commitment was Joseph Smith, and the offence for which she was arrested—horse stealing—was decidedly masculine. A roguish, not ill-favoured damsel, with a clear complexion, bold, wide-open, black eyes, and a sturdy, self-reliant air as she stood up, in the blue and white check dress, with its white coif and mob cap, and answered the governor’s questions coolly and off hand. She had regained her natural effrontery with her proper attire. ‘ What’s the meaning of this? How do you come to be masquerading as a man ?’ she was asked. * Mayn’t I wear what clothes 1 choose ?’ she replied insolently.

‘You know yon mustn’t. And the idea! A little chit of a girl like you to run off with a horse sixteen hands high !’ They dared me to it. No one liked riding it, so lup and did it. Rode twenty miles on end—there !’ * Stole it, in fact, and the clothes as well ?’ * I didn’t steal them. They’re my brother’s. I’ve as good a right to them as he has. Father paid for them.’ * Who is your father? Where do you belong to?’ * Crewkerne Hall. Father’s coachman there to Lady Sarah Furnival. It was her horse.’

When all the facts came out it was found that- the girl’s account was right in the main. Among the horses under her father’s charge was a wild, fierce brute, bought by Mr Furnival as a hunter, but which it was no pleasure for him to ride, and which he was anxious to be well rid of, but no one would buy. Her brother, who was one of the helpers, looked after this brute—a tall, watery chestnut, with a switch tail—and both hated and feared it. One day, after a more than usually ignominious adventlire with the horse, in which be had been kicked off three times in quick succession, the lad was unbearably chaffed by the girl in the presence of the other helpers and his companions. It was in the saddle-room where she was wont to join the men of an evening and sharpen her wit at their expense. They bure her chaff with equanimity, as a rule giving back as good as they received, but her sarcasm had on this occasion maddened her brother, who dared her to ride the brute herself.

The same night, without one word, she crept out of the house dressed in her brother’s best suit; abstracted the stable key, saddled the horse herself, mounted him without assistance, and, bold as a Mexican horse thief, galloped gaily away. She took the road to Harcbester, ten miles distant, and, reaching the old cathedral town too early to dispose of the horse, pressed on another ten miles to Hawksfield.

There she sought some livery stables, and offered to sell him for a song. The price she asked was so ridiculously low—five pounds—that the dealer guessed what was wrong. He detained tbe hoise, and sent for the police. Lady Sarah Furnival was a kindly, philanthropic woman, who took deep interest in tbe people around her, especially the Winter family. When she heard of Josephine’s escapade she was greatly concerned for the girl, whom she thought guilty of nothing more than flightiness and bravado.

So when the stolen horse was safely sent back to the Crewkerne stables she urged her busband to let tbe silly child off as easily as possible. There had been no real intention to steal, and now restitution had been made. Surely the matter might be dropped. But Mr Furnival took a sterner view of the case. He was a magistiate, and bound to uphold the law —to see that those who broke it met with their deserts. So Josephine was sent for trial at the Assizes, where the judge was also rather hard on her. In spite of the extenuating circumstances, he felt it his duty to sentence her to three months’ imprisonment.

Gaol life is not always improving. Prisoners are kept as much as possible apart, but they must meet and communicate at times. Josephine, after tbe first month, passed according to the Act of Parliament in tbe strict privacy of her cell, went to one of the work-rooms, where she found herself at the same table with a gipsy girl, Maimie Popple. The two speedily became fast friends. There was a strong bond of sympathy between them—they had similar temperaments, similar tastes. Both were wild, harumscarum, reckless creatures, full of exuberant life and spirits, equally affected by the irksome restraints and prolonged confinement. They were like a couple of caged biids, mad to flap their wings in fieedom and take a bold Hight anyway.

Maimie had no particular loyalty to her gang or family. They had deserted her, left her to bear the blame of aseiies of depredations while they hastily decamped. She said she had taken no part in the thefts, and had received no sort of benefit from any of them. Nothing would induce her to go back to her people. If only Josephine would join with her, and stick to her as she vowed she would to Josephine they might have a splendid time. Why, they could wander through the whole country, attend fairs and race meetings, tell fortunes, sing songs, give entertainments and be free as air.

‘No one will touch us or inteifere with us,’ went on Maimie, to silence Josephine’s apprehensions. ‘You shall be my Ro; put on your boy’s duds and boss the business. You’ll find me a true pal, s’elp me, I swear.’ As Maimie was released first, she was to make all the arrangements. She was clever enough for anything, had money enough to buy a banjo for Josephine, and she herself owned a tambourine. These would be the properties, the stock in trade of the firm. The question of the male costume was more serious ; if Maimie had any luck she would get some clothes, but she urged Josephine to claim those she bad brought in with her. No one had a better right to them ; the prison authorities eould not stop them, and if they did wLat was Josephine to wear ? This matter was happily disposed of by the kindly forethought of Lady Sarah Furnival, who sent a neat dress and all necessary articles of female apparel to be worn by Josephine on the day of release. ‘ I’ll be waiting for you at the gate when you come out,’ said Maimie on her departure. ‘You come straight along with me. We’ll spout your smart clothes and buy you a new rig out. I know where to get it.’

When the day arrived for her release Josephine found, to her great disgust, that there were others awaiting her. Her mother and a young biother had come to receive and

escort her back to Crewkerne, and for a moment she thought her plana were frustiated. Then she caught a glimpse of Maimie in a aide street, and with a brief salutation :

‘ Morning, ma. That you, Ted ? How’s pa ? Give him my love. Ta-ta !’ Josephine took to her heels. The movement was so sudden that she was out of sight before mother or brother realised what had happened. Under Maimie’s pilotage she safely reachedaplaceof concealment. Later in the day this precious pair sallied forth, like modern troubadours, to perambulate the world. After that, in spite ot a hue and cry, nothing was seen or heard of this madcap girl for some months. At last she was recognised and arrested on Harcbester racecourse. There was nothing against her or her companion, but the male disguise warranted Josephine's committal to Harcbester Castle until her friends were summoned to take charge of her. Her father came this time, but she gave him the slip and again joined her partner to resume their wandering life. She was now on the downward road, and, as it seemed, beyond all hope of reclamation. Her relations gave her up—only Lady Sarah Furnival continued to take a sorrowful interest in her, which culminated on hearing that she was in custody in the gaol nearest Crewkerne, Hawkspool, on a very serious charge. The gipsy family to whom Maimie belonged had come upon her by chance, and tried bard to win her back to their caravan. They used every argument in vain, and at last a yonng Romany, who had long been an admirer of the truant girl, determined to secure her by force. Josephine, in her rdZe of male protector, resented this and a tierce struggle ensued, in which she stabbed the gipsy lad, inflicting several serious and, as it was a long time feared, mortal wounds. She was taken red handed, and, as her story was by this time pretty well known through Hawkshiie, she took up her quarters on the proper side of Hawkspool. There she was soon visited by Maimie, who was in a state of wild, hysterical distress. She had been the true cause of the quarrel ; the blame and the punishment, whatever it was, should fall upon her. No doubt Lemuel (the wounded gipsy) lay in great danger of his life, but then he might recover ; and, after all, why did he come between the two friends’ Was there nothing she could do, no one to help them, in this sore strait ? Josephine had not forgotten Lady Sarah Furnival’s kindness to her on other occasions. Perhaps her ladyship would intercede for her now. Maimie snatched at the suggestion thus offered, and declared she would go straight to Crewkerne Hall with an appeal. A few davs later, Lady Sarah Furnival came in person to call at the Hawkspool Gaol. She did not come in her own carriage, but in a fly from the station, and on arrival at the prison gates she sent in her card to the governor, with an urgent request that she might be allowed to see Josephine Winter, her coachman’s daughter. ‘There is no objection, I hope’’ said Lady Sarah, when the governor came out in person, hat in hand, and helped his aristocratic visitor to alight. _ She was richly dressed in a long sealskin, with a smart bonnet and brand new gloves. Only she kept her veil down and spoke in rather a mincing affected voice, which the governor attributed to emotion. ‘ Oh, no objection. She is still awaiting trial and entitled to see her fiiends, for the bond, fide purpose of her detel > < Tl l at is why I wish to see her. I should like to secure her a good counsel to defend her. I suppose it is a bad ca ,e ■ gjp S y Y) O y dies, as seems most probable, it will be brought in murder, I feel sure.’ ‘ How horrible ! and I have always liked the girl so much. But. can I see her alone, please ’ Time is rather pressing.’ Lady Sarah was at once admitted into the prison, and shown into the governor’s office while they went to fetch Josephine to the • visiting boxes.’ * But surelv I may see her in her own cell ? Lady baran said, protesting vigorously. *1 want to speak to her, reason with her, console her as I best can, and for that I must be alone with her.’ , • It is against the rules, I am afraid, began the official apologetically, yet not wishing to disoblige her ladyship. * Stuff ' Not in my case,’ was the energetic reply. 1 will go and get a positive order from a magistrate. My husband, or my uncle, Lord Grewkerne _ _ ‘ Well, my lady, we may strain a point with you ; we should be sorry to offend your ladyship,’ said the governor, when the question was referred to him. ‘ Will your ladyship come this way ?’ and Lady Sarah was led into the female wing. . , , T . .t. . The matron in person received her. It was the hist occasion on which the great Lady Sarah, the principal personage in the neighbourhood, had visited the gaol, and every effort was made to do her honour. She was shown with much pomp, a great noise of unlocking and running back bolts, into the cell where Josephine cowered sulkily in a corner, and the prisoner was called sharply ‘ to attention like a soldier. . ‘ Now you Winter, make your manners ! but the girl would not curtsey till the order was repeated, and then did S ° * U N ever "mind,pray. Do not be cross with her. Josephine!’ she continued, as she approached quite close, ‘ my poor girl, you are in very great trouble ; but keep your courage up. I have come to help you.’ . .... An extraordinary change came over the prisoner at the very first sound of her visitor’s voice. She started, coloured, then looked terribly frightened, and turned ghastly pale. * Who is it ’ What do you want with me— she began, stammering and in a great confusion, when she was interrupted by a sharp, peremptory whisper, which only reached her own ear. , .. • Don’t be a fool. I am Lady Sarah. Recognise me at once. ’ . , , , . •Oh my dear good lady !’ cried Josephine, recovering herself instantly, es she thiew herself on her knees and seizing the other’s hands, kissed them amidst tears and little sighs of gratitude. . . , •Can’t we be alone’ For just five minutes! Quick I Invent some excuse,’ whispered my lady, who was no other than Maimie. ..... . , . . i Next moment Josephine fell back in simulated convulsions, and was kicking full length upon the floor. • Run run, all of you, get the doctor some one ; fetch things,’ cried Lady Sarah, as she bundled mation and assistant warder out of the cell, and, as they left, gently closed it after them.

The two within were now alone, and free to act. * Quick, Josephine, throw off your skirt and now your shoes. Put on mine, they’ll fit you easily. Change your cap for my bonnet. I’ll tie the strings. Now my sealskin. It will reach to your heels. There, tidy yourself up while I put on your things. The whole transformation was performed in less than three minutes, and was completed long before the warders returned. As they found the cell door locked there was a further delay, during which a few last words were exchanged.

* What does it all mean ?’ asked Josephine. ‘ Escape.' * I cannot go and leave you here.’ ‘ You must. I don’t mind. Go out directly they open the door. Say you’ve had enough of it. They'll let you through safe enough, and right out of the gaol. Take the fly, drive to the station, and get away.’ ‘ And you—you—what will you do?’ ‘ Hurry, dear ;no more jaw. Now’s your chance. Imitate my voice. You’ve done it before now.’ The stratagem was as successful as it was boldly conceived and carried out. Josephine was bowed out most civilly ; her explanation that the recent scene was too much for her was accepted as quite natural and satisfactory. She found money in the pocket of the sealskin and a few lines scribbled by Maimie of notes and instructions. * I broke into Crewkerue Hall last night The family are all away. After what you told me I got hold of some of my lady’s things, enough to make up like her, and you’ll understand why, if ever you get this. I was bound to get yon out of the "stir.” Is was all through me you went, and that galoot Lemuel. Well, now you are free. Lie close till they’ve done with me. I shall be copped, of course, and they’ll bring the business of Crewkerne against me too. But I shan’t get more than six months for the job, with this helping you to escape as well. So you go your ways, Josephine, and wait at the old place till I come out, and we’ll have a high old time yet, never fear.’ Maimie was not much out in her calculations. Six months was the sentence awarded her, and when that was concluded she sought out her friend ; but the cleverly executed escape had benefited Josephine very little. She had been recaptured after being a month at large, and obliged to stand her trial for wounding with intent. The award was penal servitude, and at the end of her time, when she hoped to recover touch with the friend who had really sacrificed herself for her, it was too late. Maimie had disappeared—gone back to her gang probably—but Josephine never saw her again. She herself returned to her friends, and eventually, through Lady Sarah Furnival, was sent to Australia, where she married, and, when last heard of, was entirely reformed.