Note 657 — Chapter XLI · PRISONS.

Ward, of course, is in his element in describing Bridewell[657]; but his account is not exaggerated. 'We then turn'd into the Gate of a stately Edifice, my Friend told me was Bridewell, which to me seem'd rather a Prince's Palace, than a House of Correction; till gazing round me, I saw in a large Room a parcel of ill looking Mortals, pounding a Pernicious Weed, which I thought from their unlucky aspects, seem'd to threaten their Destruction. These, said I, to my Friend, I suppose are the Offenders at Work; pray what do you think their Crimes may be? Truly, said he, I cannot tell you; but if you have a mind to Know, ask any of them their Offence, and they will soon satisfie you. Prithee Friend, said I, to a Surly Bull neck'd fellow, who was thumping as lazily at his Wooden Anvil, as a Ship Carpenter at a Log in the King's Yard at Deptford, What are you Confin'd to this Labour for? My Hempen Operator, leering over his shoulder, cast at me one of his hanging Looks, which so frightened me, I step'd back, for fear he should have knocked me on the Head with his Beetle, Why, Mr. Tickletail, says he, taking me, as I believe, being in Black, for some Country Pedagogue, I was committed hither by Justice Clodpate, for saying I had rather hear a Black bird Whistle Walsingham,[658] or a Peacock Scream against Foul Weather, than a Parson talk Nonsense in a Church, or a Fool talk Latin in a Coffee House: And I'll be judg'd by you who are a Man of Judgment, whether in all I said there be one Word of Treason to deserve a Whipping Post.