as I was arrested on a Saturday, I feared
nothing could be done to get me out that day,
my wife's father living down in Devonshire,
and he being the only person we could depend
upon; and the officer told me that the next
day, Sunday, owing to some canting arrangements
of the City magistrates, no visitors whatever
were permitted to enter Whitecross-street
prison. I therefore packed up a small bag of
clothes; had a four-wheeler called; and with
the first officer by my side, and the insolvent
publican on the box—I could not stand his being
inside with me—off we trundled from Bayswater,
in the far west, with orders to the cabman to
drive to Bream's-buildings, Chancery-lane, in the
central east.

Somewhere about the top of that street of
legal fame, turn to the left—going from Holborn
—then to the left again, and finally under an
archway into a court which seems deserted to
noisy children and an occasional forlorn organ-
player. This is "Bream's-buildings." Just beyond
the entrance, is a house of which you may
see all the windows closely and heavily barred.
The door is always open, but the bottom of the
staircase is secured by an iron gate, as strong as
are the cages of the wild beasts at the Zoological
Gardens. After paying and discharging the
cab—how I envied the driver, who was at
liberty to go home to his wife and children, if
he had any!—we walked into the house, and a
one-eyed man came forward to open the grate at
the bottom of the stairs. In his hands was
deposited the warrant, or capias as it is termed,
upon which I had been arrested, and he was
henceforth answerable for my body; the house
in which I was thus accommodated pro tem,
being the property of one of the sheriff's
officers, and an uncommonly valuable property
too, I should imagine. The one-eyed man
was, I must say, on the whole, exceedingly civil
to me. I was shown up-stairs to the "coffee-
room," as it was called, being nothing more
than a very narrow but somewhat long drawing-
room, in which, perhaps, eight people might
dine, but not very much at their ease. When
I arrived at this blissful resting-place, I found
the so-called coffee-room occupied by at least a
dozen gentlemen, who, like myself, were all "in
trouble." Some few of them had been there for
six or seven weeks, paying a guinea a day,
besides fabulous prices for everything they drank,
rather than go to Whitecross-street where
debtors are treated almost like felons. All
these persons hoped to make some arrangement
or other with their creditors, and get out of
limbo without becoming bankrupt. In Bream's-
buildings—"the sheriff's hotel," as it is called
—no one can remain after he has filed his petition
in bankruptcy. By one of those pleasant
legal fictions, of which there are many in the
English law, the debtor detained here is
supposed to be the guest of the Sheriff of Middle
sex, although he is, in fact, the very profitable
victim of one of the sheriff's officers. For a
guinea a day, the inmates of this place get a
very uncomfortable hard bed, and in most cases
have to share their room with another person.
There are, it is true, two or three single-bedded
rooms in the house, but these seem to be
always occupied. I can only say for myself,
that I had to do with a bed made up upon a
very narrow couch in a sitting-room up-stairs.
I was the last comer, and the house was very
full indeed. The food was good, plain, and
without stint, but the profit made by Bream's-
buildings in the eating and drinking line, could
not have been less than three hundred per cent.
For breakfast we used to have strong coarse
tea, toast, haddocks, and bacon with eggs. For
dinner a joint, vegetables, tart, and cheese.
The former meal would have been well paid for
at one and sixpence, the latter at half-a-crown;
the bed would have been very dear at a shilling.
Bachelor artisans of the better class, and
unmarried clerks earning from thirty to forty
shillings a week, get much better boarded, and
infinitely better lodged, for a pound a week, than
debtors in Bream's-buildings do for a guinea
a day. Beyond the two meals I have mentioned,
and a cup of tea in the evening, everything you
have in the sheriff's hotel is extra, and, being an
extra, is paid for at prices which would make the
frequenters of Long's or Claridge's Hotels start.
A pint of draught ale from the neighbouring
public-house—price threepence all over London
—sixpence. Light dinner claret, such as any of
Gilbey's agents supply at one shilling a bottle,
three and sixpence. Sherry, alias Cape, value one
shilling and sixpence in any tavern, five shillings
and six shillings a bottle, and other wine in
proportion. A message to the west end, such as any
commissionaire will do for a shilling and his bus
fare, costs from two and sixpence to a crown.
Bream's-buildings can make no bad debts, for they
give no credit. Board and lodging are paid for
every day in advance: if not paid by eleven A.M.,
the debtor is removed to Whitecross-street.
Whitecross-street is, in fact, the bugbear
with which all debtors are kept in order in
Bream's-buildings. Whether they complain of
the hardness of the beds, the sameness of the
food, the crowded state of the "coffee-room,"
the dearness of the wine, or the exorbitant
charges of the messengers, there is always
one reply: "You should see what you would
get at Whitecross-street," or, "If you don't like
it, you had better try Whitecross-street."
Our butler, keeper, jailer, waiter, general
adviser, and consulter on all occasions was him of
the one eye, and not a bad fellow from first to
last, I am bound to say, was Cyclops. If I were
prime minister of England for a day, I would
make that man Chief Commissioner of the
Bankruptcy Court; for I believe he knows more about
the ins and outs of debts, debtors, credit,
creditors, writs, ca. sa.s, and all the rest of what
the insolvent part of this world is interested in,
than any individual in England. The charges he
makes are not for himself but for his masters,
and I believe that more than once he has given
credit for a day or two to swaggering big-talking
debtors, who have in the end "done" him by
leaving Bream's-buildings without paying him