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NEWGATE.
The subterranean passage through which Mr.Ramsey, Mr.Kemp, Mr.
Cattell, and I were conducted from the Old Bailey dock to Newgate prison, was long and tortuous, and two or three massive doors were unlocked and relocked for our transit before we emerged into the courtyard.

In the darkness the lofty walls looked grimly frowning, and I imagined what feelings must possess the ordinary criminal who passes under their black shadow to his first night's taste of imprisonment.
Another massive door was opened in the wall of Newgate, and we were ushered into what at first sight appeared a large hall.

It was really the interior of the prison.

Glancing up, I saw dimly-lighted corridors, running round tier on tier of cell-doors, and connected by light, graceful staircases; a clear view of every door being commanded from the office at the west end of the ground-floor.
We were invited one by one into a side office, where we inscribed our names in a big book.