The String of Pearls (1850), p. 518

The state of mind that Todd was in after his arrest, was one that such a man with such strong passions as he had was exceedingly unlikely to come to. It is difficult to describe it, but if we say that he was mentally stunned, we shall be as near the mark as language will permit us to be.
He walked, and looked, and spoke very much like a man in a dream; and it is really doubtful whether, for some hours, he comprehended the full measure of the calamity that had befallen him on his apprehension.
At Newgate they are quite accustomed to find this unnatural calmness in great criminals immediately after their arrest, so they take their measures accordingly.
Sir Richard Blunt had given some very special instructions to the Governor of Newgate concerning his prisoner, when he should arrive and be placed in his
custody, so everything was ready for Todd. How little he suspected that for two days and two nights the very cell he was to occupy in Newgate had been actually
pointed out, and that the irons in which his limbs were to be encompassed were waiting for him in the lobby!
He was placed in a small stone room that had no light but what came from a little orifice in the roof, and that was only a borrowed light after all, so that the cell was in a state of semi-darkness always.
Into this place he was hurried, and the blacksmith who was in the habit of officiating upon such occassions, rivetted upon him, as was then the custom, a complete set of irons.
All this Todd looked at with seeming indifference. His face had upon it an unnatural flush, and probably Todd had never looked so strangely well in health as upon the occasion of the first few hours he spent in Newgate.
"Now, old fellow," said one of the turnkeys, "I'm not to be very far off, in case you should happen to want to say anything; and if you give a rap at the door, I'll come to you."
"In case I want to say anything?" said Todd.
"Yes, to be sure. What, are you asleep?"
"Am I asleep?"
"Why, he's gone a little bit out of his mind," said the blacksmith, as he gathered up his tools to be gone.
The turnkey shook his head.
"Are you quite sure you have made a tight job of that?"
"If he gets out of them, put me in 'em, that's all. Oh, no! It would take—let me see-it would take about half a dozen of him to twist out o' that suit of armour. They are just about the best we have in the old stone jug."
"Good."
"Yes, they are good."
"I mean very well. And now Mr. Sweeney Todd, we will leave you to your own reflections, old boy, and much good may they do you. Good-night, old fellow. I always says good-night to the prisoners, cos it has a tender sort o'sound, and disposes of 'em to sleep. It's kind o'me, but I always was tender-hearted, as any little chick, I was."
Bang went the cell door, and its triple locks were shot into their hoops. Todd was alone.
He had sat down upon a stool that was in the cell; and that stool, with a sort of bench fastened to the wall, was the only furniture it contained; and there he sat for about half an hour, during which time one of the most extraordinary changes that ever took place in the face of any human being, took place in his.
It seemed as if the wear and tear of years had been concentrated into minutes; and in that short space of time he passed from a middle aged, to be an old man.
Then reflection came!
"Newgate!" he cried as he sprang to his feet.
The chains rattled and clanked together.