His early progress was barred by envy and contempt.  Why, asked the men in possession, should this shrivelled stranger filch our privileges?  And Briscoe met their malice with an easy smile, knowing that at all points he was more than their match.  His alliance with Moll stood him in good stead, and in a few months the twain were the supreme arbiters of English justice.  Should a highwayman seek to save his neck, he must first pay a fat indemnity to the Newgate Clerk, but, since Moll was the appointed banker of the whole family, she was quick to sanction whatever price her accomplice suggested.  And Briscoe had a hundred other tricks whereby he increased his riches and repute.  There was no debtor came to Newgate whom the Clerk would not aid, if he believed the kindness profitable.  Suppose his inquiries gave an assurance of his victim’s recovery, he would house him comfortably, feed him at his own table, lend him money, and even condescend to win back the generous loan by the dice-box.

His civility gave him a general popularity among the prisoners, and his appearance in the Yard was a signal for a subdued hilarity.  He drank and gambled with the roysterers; he babbled a cheap philosophy with the erudite; and he sold the necks of all to the highest bidder.  Though now and again he was convicted of mercy or revenge, he commonly held himself aloof from human passions, and pursued the one sane end of life in an easy security.  The hostility of his colleagues irked him but little.  A few tags of Latin, the friendship of Moll, and a casual threat of exposure frightened the Governor into acquiescence, but the Ordinary was more difficult of conciliation.  The Clerk had not been long in Newgate before he saw that between the reverend gentleman and himself there could be naught save war.  Hitherto the Ordinary had reserved to his own profit the right of intrigue; he it was who had received the hard-scraped money of the sorrowing relatives, and untied the noose when it seemed good to him.  Briscoe insisted upon a division of labour.  ’It is your business,’ he said, ’to save the scoundrels in the other world.  Leave to me the profit of their salvation in this.’  And the Clerk triumphed after his wont:  freedom jingled in his pocket; he doled out comfort, even life, to the oppressed; and he extorted a comfortable fortune in return for privileges which were never in his gift.

Without the walls of Newgate the house of his frequentation was the ’Dog Tavern.’  Thither he would wander every afternoon to meet his clients and to extort blood-money.  In this haunt of criminals and pettifoggers no man was better received than the Newgate Clerk, and while he assumed a manner of generous cordiality, it was a strange sight to see him wince when some sturdy ruffian slapped him too strenuously upon the back.  He had a joke and a chuckle for all, and his merry quips, dry as they were, were joyously quoted to all new-comers.  His legal ingenuity appeared miraculous, and it was confidently asserted