Pickwick Abroad: A Companion to the Pickwick Papers — page 176: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

tes 7a we Op, 160 The Commissary of Police then entered into an examination of the charges. brought against the young lady, and the clerk drew up the proces-verbal thereof; but as the causes of Mademoiselle Anastasie’s present | dilemma will be duly narrated hercatter, we lust content ourselves with observing for the moment, that the document was- forthwith despatched to the Judge of In- struction, and the fair delinquent to the pri- son of Bicetre. | CHAPTER XXXIV: A visit to Mademoiselle Anastasie in an uncomfort- able place.-—A conversation in a Prison.—Conver- sations out of a Prison. Tur edifice, which bears the name of Bicétre, is situate on the road from Paris to Fontainbleau, about a mile and a quarter from the Barriere dItalie. It derives its name from John, Bishop of Winchester, who built a fortified mansion on that spot in the 5 ae and whose real appellation has y gradient variations been transformed from Winchester into Bichestre, Bicestre, and lastly Bicetre. In 1632 this edifice was chanzed by Louis XIII. into a hospital for military invalids; it is now used as a prison, ‘a lunatic asylum, and a receptacle for the poor and needy. When viewed at a dis- stance, it appears like an immense fortifica- tion; but on a closer inspection, it seems a lofty work-house or asylum for the indigent, surrounded by a fosse. It is in this build- ing, that criminals, under sentence of death, await the result of the appeal to the Court of Cassation. . It was also in the prison of that building, that a cell was provided for the reception of Mademviseile _Anastasie de Volage. The wails, which had once been whitewashed, were yellow and dirty with grease and smoke; and here and there were written in pencil, or scrawled with a piece of charcoal, afew lines indicative of the state of mind in which the former tenants of the chamber had foun themselves at different times. In one corner of the ceiling was a large cob- web, in which a fly was retamed by an overgrown spider—a sad emblem of the - fate of the degraded Anastasie. en work round the fire-place had been per- forated here and there with the point of a red-hut poker; and the poker *tself was worn as thin as a <ewer, by the Lumber of ? “a ‘ PICKWICK ABROAD. The wood-.| 4 : times it. had been heated in the fire—for — coals, not. wood, ‘were the fuel allowed in that prison. These trivial circumstances speak volumes concerning those who had inhabited the room before the preseat. tenant of the, miserable cell became acquainted — with it. The mind, harassed by a thousand evils, and tormented by the.anticipation of more, finds no amusement in books, and wiles away the time in the most. childish pursuits. Hearts are broken in those walls, —aye, irrevocably robbed of peace, of hap- piness, and even of hope! cornices of the rooms covered with dust, are emblems of the hearts surrounded by the cobwebs of despair. Some may imagine,— but none can describe, the acuteness—the bitterness—the agony of.the woe that is ex- perienced in the dungeons of a felon’s gaol! The door of Anastasie’s room was not locked, and it opened into a passage com- municating with a court in which the female prisoners were allowed to walk. Of this indulgence she did not, however, avail her- self at that moment; for she was sick at heart, and for the first time for some years she reflected that with her personal attrac- tions, her natural abilities, the accomplish- ments which she really possessed, and her pleasing manners, she might have formed an eligible, or, at all events, a respectable connection, which might have saved her from ever becoming acquainted with’ the interior of a gaol! In the midst of her sorrowful meditations an old woman, bent almost double with age and sulfering, entered the room. “Cheer up, my dear,” said the hag: “with money one can make one’s self as happv here as elsewhere?” | “Why do you,intrude upon me?” de manded Anastasie impatiently, for the old woman’s voice was as harsh and grating upon the ear.as the creaking of the prisun- doors. | “JT will wait upon you, if you will allow me,” said the old woman. “The others would only rob and plunder you.” “My mother will,be here presently,” re- turned the young woman ;—her mother had been in the prison called La Force, and Anastasie was well aware that she was ac- quainted with the usages of such places. “Well, well,” cried the old woman, mov ing sulkily towards the door; “I suppose you Mean to wait upon yourselves. But I have been here these last ten years, and so :f vou do want a servant, give me the pref- The handsome. Go LOO) Sa(C@