They were now marched out from the inner court in batches of thirty at a time, drawn up in rank, stripped, and examined with such rigid scrutiny as I dare not precise.  They were then marched and placed along one of the extended chains, and made to sit down, resting it in their laps.  A square fetter was then fitted and placed around the neck of each.  In this, before, some detached links from the chain were placed, whilst a huge smith proceeded to rivet each from behind.  Fixing a kind of movable anvil behind the convict’s back, the fetter that encircled his neck was brought with its joint upon it, and half a dozen blows of the sledge riveted the captive inextricably to the main chain and to his twenty-nine comrades.  The smith must be adroit at his task, and the convict steady in his position; for, as the fetter is tight round the neck, the hammer, in its blow, must pass within a quarter of an inch of his skull, and a wince on his part might prove fatal.  This, indeed, is the trying moment, when the stoutest cheek is blanched.  The sturdiest frame, shaken by the blows of the sledge, then betrays emotion, and tears of penitence are at that moment almost always seen to fall.  On sitting down, each had in general an air of bravado, produced in a great measure by the regards of the seemingly more hardened ruffians from the windows.  Under the riveting there was no smile; whilst after it, apathy was affected or resumed, each endeavouring to make his iron collar as supportable and comfortable as possible, by enveloping it in a handkerchief, and guaranteeing the neck from its chill or galling.

When the chaine was completed, its wearers were made to stand up.  They formed themselves in couples, the chain running betwixt two ranks, and they walked round the yard to take their first lesson in their galling exercise.  They are thus fettered together till they reach Brest or Toulon.  The choice is left to them of walking or being carried in carts, more provender being given to those who make the journey on foot.

The only part of their habiliments, which seemed left to themselves to provide, was a covering for the head, the red or green cap being given them only upon entering the bagne.  For their journey, some of the fellows had provided themselves with strange head-gear, mostly made of straw; one had a three-cocked hat; others, one of all kinds of outre shapes.  A prime vagabond had woven for himself a complete and magnificent tiara, precisely like the Roman Pontiff’s in form, and surmounted by a cross.  This was the Pope, the Pope of the Chaine, and I never heard a shout so appalling, as that with which his appearance was welcomed by the prisoners from the windows of the building.  They danced, they yelled, tore and tumbled over each other in the most exuberant delight, thrusting their crowded heads and distorted features almost through the gratings.  I have gleaned from it quite an idea of a scene of merriment and exultation below.