Another woman, Ann Williams, who was received from Bath, proved a very desperate character. The governor of Bath gaol, who brought her up to London, declared he had never had so much trouble with any prisoner before. She also was determined to make away with herself, and the first time left alone she had jumped out of a window an immense height from the ground. This country gaoler, on seeing the cell to which she was destined in the Penitentiary, protested that it would be highly dangerous to allow her to have pewter pint, or spoon, or cell stool. The moment her hands were loosened she would be sure to thrust the spoon down her throat, or attack some one with the stool. Even the sheets should be removed, for she was capable of tearing them into slips to make herself a halter. Directly she arrived at Millbank she tried to dash her brains out by striking her head violently against the wall—emulating in this respect another prisoner for whom, some years later, a special head-dress was provided, a sort of Turkish cap padded at the top, merely to save her skull. Williams’ language was dreadful, and she refused all food. The governor now suspected her strongly of artifice, and the doctor recommended that she should be punished with bread and water diet. That night she grew extremely turbulent. She was then tied down to her bedstead, and a sort of gag, brought from Bath for McCarthy, used, which was effective in curbing her rage. This gag was a wide piece of strong leather, having perforated holes to admit of breathing, but which completely silenced her horrible and violent expressions. After starving herself for four days she had still strength enough left to get out of her handcuffs, and would have done much mischief had not the other prisoners who were watching her held her down by the hair. After greasing her wrists it was found possible to replace the handcuffs. This was another case in which it was thought advisable to give the prisoner the benefit of the doubt, and she was also removed to Bedlam.

It was quite within possibility that in these two cases madness was proved. But it is often difficult to draw the line between madness and outrageous misconduct; and the latter is sometimes persisted in order to make good a pretence of deranged intellect. Among the female prisoners there are numerous instances of this—and as a matter of fact among the males also. Cases of “trying it on,” or “doing the barmy,” which are cant terms for feigning lunacy, used at one time to be more frequent than they are now, when longer experience protects prison physicians from deception.

The History and Romance of Crime, Millbank Penitentiary — Part 89