There was no end to her deception. In one of the papers taken from her she asserted that certain property was secreted in a flower-pot, and buried in a garden in Goswell Street, at the house of one Elderton. The governor applied to Sir F. Roe, at Bow Street, who said, “Newman has been before me already. She was charged in an anonymous letter with infanticide; but on investigation, I found the letter was a malicious composition of this Mr. Elderton. The letter contained many revolting particulars, and charged Newman with the utmost barbarity.” The letter was sent for and examined by Mr. Nihil, who at once recognized the writing as Newman’s own; and she had evidently written it with the object of ruining Elderton’s character, and to appear herself as the victim of a conspiracy. “So wily, ingenious, clever, and unprincipled a deceiver as this prisoner cannot, I submit, after all that has passed, be placed amongst others without endangering the subordination and discipline of the whole ward; and unless the committee are prepared to direct that she be kept altogether apart, I hope they will bring the matter to a crisis and send her abroad,” wrote the governor.
For a month this violence of demeanour continued. She was found uniformly ungovernable. In her cell, when searched at regular intervals, clandestine writings were always discovered; in one of which was a long and critical examination of the character of the young Queen, who had just come to the throne. Mr. Nihil began to despair. “Julia Newman having continued her pretended madness up to the present time, to the frequent disturbance of the prison, and having committed innumerable breaches of order, it became my duty to put a stop to her proceedings,” he says.
There was no chance of getting rid of her by transportation, as the last shipload of female convicts for that season had sailed, and there would be no other till the spring. “This being the case, I thought it necessary to converse with the prisoner, with a view of convincing her of the folly of carrying on her attempts, and warning her of the consequence of any further disturbance. I found her with her head fantastically dressed, and other ridiculous accompaniments. She would not hear me—darted out of her cell—stopped her ears, and uttered several violent exclamations. I made several attempts at expostulation, but in vain, and therefore I sent her to the dark.” The surgeon thought her madness all deception. Again: “As my visits to Julia Newman are only signals for violence, I have abstained from visiting her in the dark, but inquired into her demeanour from the surgeon. He said that in his presence she affected to beat herself violently, and passionately to wish for death. Afterwards, in a manner very unlike a mad-woman, she said she had been put into a dark cell, but it was a matter of perfect indifference to her whether she was in a dark or light cell. As the surgeon turned away she swore at him violently.” Next day she hammered out her drinking-cup quite flat; and when being locked up for the night, asserted loudly that she was quite well, singing and shouting violently. There was an obvious effort of bravado in her madness. Still the same report comes from the surgeon: “J. N. continues her affected madness.” The governor sends word he will let her out of the dark as soon as she promises to behave herself; and then Miss Neave, one of the lady visitors, goes to her by the governor’s request, “in the hope that the conversation of a lady, against whom she could have no prejudice, might have a salutary effect.” It proved ineffectual. The prisoner said she did not want to be preached to; would not listen to a word from Miss Neave, threw water at her, singing also, and shouting in a most powerful voice, so as to baffle all her attempts. Miss Neave was quite convinced the prisoner’s insanity was feigned, and that she was only acting a part. At length she was removed to a sleeping cell in the infirmary for treatment, and here after a first paroxysm of rage, in which she smashed a basin into atoms, she assumed a timid aspect, and when spoken to by the taskmistress, wept like a child. “In the hope she might be a little softened,” says Mr. Nihil, “I spoke to Miss Frazer, another of the visiting ladies, who agreed to go to Newman, saying that Julia had always received her with gentleness and apparent pleasure. On this occasion, however, Newman behaved with frightful violence, refusing to have any visit, dashing her can upon the table, and seeming as if she would strike Miss Frazer if she could. She had already blackened her own eyes, and she appeared so possessed by despair, that Miss Frazer thought she might do herself some serious injury, and that her hands should be secured.”
Two days later we read: “Julia Newman is worse than ever. The doctors say she is not mad, at least Dr. Monro did. Mr. Wade is doubtful.” The governor himself was of opinion that she was only carrying on a deep scheme: He says, “I suggested to Mr. Wade, a day or two ago, that if any circumstance had arisen to make it probable that she was really deranged, we had better have another opinion, and send her to Bedlam; but there does not seem any ground for this step. But is the prisoner to defy all authority, now that the doctor has removed her from the dark to the infirmary? Certainly not. I therefore called upon the doctor to report whether there was any danger in subjecting her to fresh punishment for fresh offences. The surgeon thinks there would be considerable risk in sending her to the dark cell on bread and water at present. Had I received a different answer, I should have proceeded forthwith to act upon the reports against her; but the committee will see how I am situated. She is too ill for punishment, and gets more violent and refractory than ever. Her acts of misconduct are: refusing to take her dinner, tearing up her prayer-book, singing loudly all the fore-part of the evening, and refusing her breakfast; grazing her nose, so that her face presents the most frightful appearance; asking for a can of water and then throwing it all over the taskmistress.” No further steps are taken at the moment, beyond providing a special strait waistcoat to be used in case of emergency. But she still continues in the infirmary. About 7 o’clock that evening she is heard screaming loudly. After some time the governor sends to ask the surgeon if he was aware of it. Answer comes to say that he is ill in bed. Second message (oh, cunning governor-chaplain!): “Would it be objectionable to her health to remove her to the dark?” Surgeon, asking only to be left in peace, replies, “Nothing to prevent her being placed anywhere.” This is all the governor wants. Off she goes to the dark, where she remains till she is reported to be singing as loudly as ever in her cell, and won’t give up her rug. Next she is found lying on her back, with a handkerchief knotted tightly around her neck. As soon as she was better, she uttered the following impromptu:—
“What a pity hell’s gates are not kept by dame King,
So surly a cur would let nobody in”—
Mrs. King being the infirmary warder. Then the assistant chaplain visited her, and was treated with the utmost insolence. She attacked Mrs. Dyett, another matron, and knocked the candlestick out of her hand, “triumphing at the same time at her exploit. Upon this I ordered her to be confined in the strait waistcoat made expressly for her under the directions of the surgeon.” Some time after this the doctor visits her, and finds she has not only rid herself of the restraint, but she has also torn the waistcoat and most of her own clothes to atoms. Nevertheless, he thinks her so unwell that he removes her again to the infirmary. From this, in the course of a few days, she returns to her ward. The cell, however, could not hold her, and she soon forced her way out into the passage. Another new, and much stronger strait waistcoat, specially constructed, was now put on her by a couple of male officers. Within an hour or two it was found slashed to ribbons, and on a close search a pair of scissors were discovered under her arm, accounting no doubt for the destruction.
Her next offence is to slap a matron in the face. Again the strait waistcoat is tried, this time a newer and a still stronger one; but it is found too large to be of any use, so the old method is resorted to and she is sent to the dark instead. For a time she appears tamed, and for quite a month she remains quiet, though still “unconformable.” She is, however, next reported for making three baskets from the straw of her mattress and part of the leaves of her Bible. She has written a long incoherent statement, probably with a stocking needle for pen, and some blood and water for ink. The warders when questioned showed great lack of desire to perform their duties. The truth is, the prisoner was very difficult to deal with, and they were all more or less afraid of her. “It is no wonder,” says the governor, “that a person of her strength, violence, and mental superiority, combined with reckless determination and obstinacy, should inspire these terrors; and I really cannot blame these officers. Without perpetually searching her person, as well as her bedding, it would be impossible to guard against the practices just reported, but this would occasion perpetual disturbance, leading to no good end, but doing much mischief in the Penitentiary.” Convinced that Millbank’s means of punishment are totally inadequate to attain the end of reforming her, or compelling obedience, the governor, to avoid constant worry, was content to leave her quite to herself, keeping her apart—in itself a heavy punishment—and restricting her to bread and water when she broke the rules.
Newman, however, would not consent to be forgotten. Her next offence was to refuse to give out her cell stool, and when the door was opened she flung it with great violence at her warder’s head, but the latter fortunately evaded the blow. The governor and the male officers together repaired to the spot in order to remove this most rebellious and dangerous prisoner to the dark. Her subsequent conduct was all of the same stamp. None but the most prominent features admit of being reported, her life here being in fact one continued system of insult and contempt. “In the dark cell she levelled her tin can at the surgeon, and the contents fell upon the taskmistress; had either of them been struck by the vessel it might have been of serious consequence. Her cell has since been examined, and several figures and other articles have been discovered. They exhibit extraordinary resource and ingenuity, unhappily directed to the flagitious purpose of destroying property and manifesting contempt of authority.”