by Barrie Jones
Chapter II covers Henry’s account of his first encounter with the law and his imprisonment in October 1892, aged sixteen years. In fact, Henry’s life of crime had commenced from the age of thirteen years, and this was not his first experience of Swansea Gaol. Perhaps his long list of crimes had confused him or that this account made a better storyline. His old schoolmate Dai was David Davies, who would feature in more serious criminal escapades with Henry in the future.
The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 5th February 1910, page 9.
Chapter II
After the accident to my head at the Cwm Pit Colliery, for five months I was idle and dependent upon on the support of my father, who was fast approaching old age. There was no such thing as a Miners’ Federation at that time, but only an accident fund, and the widow of a man killed underground only received ten shillings per week, and not even then unless the collier contributed towards the fund. Of course, that had nothing at all to do with me, as I was employed by the miners and not by the company, and it was the miners’ duty to pay the accident fund for me, and to deduct it from my wages. I was too young to know this at the time, otherwise I could have claimed compensation; consequently, I received absolutely nothing.
I was not going to see my father working himself to death to support me any longer, so one day, still suffering from the effects of my injuries, I set out to seek employment. I wandered towards the South Pit Colliery, near Troedyrhiw, but I had not gone very far before I met an old schoolmate of mine, Dai ____. Now Dai was a bold fellow. Although a good-hearted chap, he cared not for anyone. He hailed me with “ullo Harry, where are you off to?” “I am going to look for a start at the South Pit,” says I. “Well, come along Harry,” say he, “I happen to be out of work too: let us try together for a place on the coal.” So we reached the pit just as the manager was coming up, and we applied for a job, but no luck, for the place was full up.
Then Dai turned to me, saying, “What do you say, Harry, in doing a bit of crook?” (for Dai ____ had already made a great rent in his character). “Are you game?” says he, “game enough,” says I. So in returning towards Merthyr, we wandered towards the Field Pit Colliery, and once again we applied there for work, but the same as usual, it was full up. Then Dai says, “Let us go around to have a warm by the boilers,” for it was rather cold at the time. On going round, we passed the back of the miners’ lamp-room, when we happened to notice that a part of the zinc roof had been torn away and some of the lamps upon the shelves were visible. We put our hands in and made the shelves lighter by half-a-dozen, and with the aid of a file we managed to rub out the letters “P C” (which meant Plymouth Company), and which came off the oil pots in filings of brass. We then took them to several pawnbrokers, where we pledged them at half-a-crown and three and sixpence apiece. After enjoying ourselves with the reapings we returned to the lamp-room for some more; but just as Dai was drawing forth another lamp, out sprang a policeman and pounced upon him. Well, you know the rest. To make it brief, we were both brought before the “beaks,” and finally escorted to Swansea Gaol for one month.
On our arrival at the prison, after answering several questions to the chief turnkey, we were taken below to a place called the reception room, where a sturdy warder eyed me from head to foot, remarking, “You are starting rather young nipper.” Turning to Dai, he said, “You have brought a fresh mate with you this time, Dai. “We are quite innocent,” replied Dai, “Yes, you look innocent,” replied the turnkey, “if the kid doesn’t” (what would he say if he saw the kid now?). Then he proceeded to weigh me and take my measurement, and after fitting me, or trying to fit me with a dirty suit of khaki large enough for a man, he locked me in a cell. After making an examination of my surroundings, I broke down and cried, until I made the place quite damp with my tears. My thoughts were of “Home, Sweet Home.”
I was not long engaged in pumping water from my system before the turnkey came and unlocked the cell door, holding in his hand half a tin of skilly, which he called porridge, and eight-ounce dark brown toke (loaf). “Here you are,” says he, “let your tears drop into this, and you will fill the tin.” “I cannot eat it sir,” says I. “Oh, you will eat it,” says he, “before you have done your month,” and he was right too, for before I had been in goal a week, I was looking for more to eat. I happened to leave one of my small loaves on my self one day, when I was on the treadmill, but when I came in it had gone. When the turnkey brought me three pounds of oakum to pick, I asked him where my bread had gone to. Throwing down the oakum, he replied, “I suppose one of the birds has picked it.” Getting a bit bolder, and my tears being a thing of the past, I turned sharply upon him, and said, “The birds have picked it, have they? Then the birds can pick this oakum,” and I kicked it flying out of the cell. He then brought me before the Asinorum (governor), and the functionary awarded me three days bread and water. Thus the turnkey was beginning to know me, and he cooled down wonderfully well. The day of my discharge came round, and I was let out into the wide world again to fight another battle with the world, the flesh, and the devil.
To be continued…..