Six Years in the Prisons of England (part 2)

"Oh! I know him," said Dick, "he's from Dartmoor; he is not a bad sort of fellow, that. He is straightforward, and if ever he takes a prisoner before the governor he speaks the truth, and you know they don't all do that, by a long way."

"How long were you at the Moor, Dick?"

"Three years; but it's not like the same place now. Oh! we had rare sport there at one time. There was an old half 'barmey' chap when I was there, who was once admitted to the 'communion,' and it happened to be his turn to get the wine first, and, by the piper! if he didn't drink every drop that was in the cup, and cried, 'Oh! that's fine! I do love this! I do love this!' We had plum pudding at Christmas in those days, and the roughs did anything they liked almost, if they didn't strike a screw. There was too much license there then, but now it's all the other way. What good is this humbugging system going to do us? If they want to keep us out of prison why don't they get work for us that we can earn a proper living at?"

"Oh! they're a lot of jackasses, that's what they are; they don't know what to do with us," said Ned.

"Look at this classification, and these marks and badges," said Dick, "why, isn't it scandalous the way the public are gulled? First there were big leather badges, that would cost probably a thousand pounds at all the prisons. Then these were done away with, and we had badges half the size, and then, after a few weeks, these were replaced by bits of cloth. I wonder what they mean by all these changes of dress? Do they think it punishes us?"

"No doubt they do."

"What fools they must be; what do we care what we wear in prison, as long as it isn't thin rags that won't keep out the cold. Oh, have you read that article in one of the periodicals about the Andaman Islands?"

"No."

"Well, the bloke who writes it proposes to send convicts out there, and keep them for life and compel them to marry prostitutes or female convicts, and then when the 'kids' are grown to take them away from them! The fool! why, all convicts haven't life sentences, and does he think that they would remain out there and do as he liked after their time was up? It isn't likely."

"Why, that would be worse than the slave trade," said Ned, "and wouldn't there be a nice crop of murders there? Why, they would require to get a factory specially for making hemp ropes to hang the culprits."

"Who is it that writes the article?" asked Pat.

"A government commissioner, but he does not give his name."

"Troth, and I should be ashamed to give it if I was he; I propose he should be taken and compelled to marry a 'tail,' and sent out to try it himself first; why such men are not fit to live, and these are Christians! those are the men who do unto others as they wish to be done by, God help us!"

"Have you heard what the director did when he was down on Saturday?" enquired Ned.

"A precious sight of good he does to be sure," replied Dick, "why he has given orders that no prisoner is to be allowed to see him about the food and the marks, and you must tell the chief warder what you want to see the director about before you can be allowed to go before him. Isn't that a pretty thing? What a nice easy way of earning a thousand a year the director has?"

"What has caused this fresh order?"

"There were two causes—three of the convalescent invalids went to the director to ask to be able-bodied in order to get the able-bodied diet. They are doing as much work now, except that they are not quite so long at it, but they are willing to work for the diet the same as the others. The director refused to allow them to work more, and of course they can't get the grub, and he gave orders that no more of such cases should be allowed to come before him. Another case was this—two fellows saved their cheese on the sly for several weeks, and in this way managed to have each about four cheeses beside them. Well, one of them told the officials what he was going to do, and the other kept his intentions secret. The first one went before the director and asked him if he would be kind enough to look at the cheese he had been supplied with for some weeks, and see whether it was the quality it ought to have been. The governor chimed in at once, and said that this was the only complaint he had heard about the cheese, and that all the other prisoners were satisfied. The prisoner was then bounced out of the room, and threatened with a 'report' if he complained again. Well the next man was called, and this happened to be the other 'bloke' with the four cheeses. Before going in he took them out of his pocket, and what do you think they did? Why, he wasn't allowed to go before the director at all; they squared him and coaxed him, and at last persuaded him not to insist on seeing the director at all, by threatening to send him to the refractory cells for having four cheeses on his person, which was quite contrary to the prison rules! Isn't it a —— shame the way the head blokes go on? How can they expect a fellow to reform when they rob us of our food and show us a bad example?"

"What o'clock is it, Pat; d'ye see the clock there?"

"It wants a quarter to three; I say, Dick, will you give me a mutton for a pudding, that beastly stuff lays heavy on my stomach, and I know you are fond of it."

"I don't mind, but how are you to get it sent to me?"

"I'll send it by some fellow in our ward who works in your gang."

"I am hard up for snout," said Ned, "can you give us a bit, Pat? Upon my word I've just had one old pipe head for the last three days and it wasn't up to much, it had been too much used."

"Well, I'll lend you an inch or two, but I hope you will soon pay me back; why there is none to be had now under a bob an ounce; but I say, Ned, if you should get another legging I would advise you to declare yourself a Jew. You look something like a sheeney at any rate. Why look at that old 'Chickarlico;' he goes twice a week to school and has two Sundays every week, besides ever so many feast days."

"Oh, I can do another 'bit,' no matter whether I am Jew, Turk, or Christian; but if I get an easy job I mean to go on the square, upon my word I do."

"Who'll employ you, do you think?"

"Why, I shall go to the society."

"The society be ——! they will not do you any good."

"I believe it is under new management now, and they don't cheat a fellow out of his gratuity as they used to do; but I think it's a wrong name to give it—The Prisoners' Aid Society! the very cases requiring most aid they won't assist at all, and unless a fellow is stout and hearty and has got some gratuity they won't have anything to do with him. If I had only a few shillings coming due to me they would not aid me, but as I have five or six pounds they will, now that looks suspicious. Then, if I had lost a leg, like that bloke over there, they wouldn't aid me. But if I don't go to the society I will, perhaps, go to Ireland and give them a turn there."

"Oh!" said Pat, "you'll find nothing that wants lifting there."

"Have you been to Spike Island, Pat?"

"Yes."

"What sort of place is it, and what about this Irish system?"

"Oh! the place is something like the public works here, and as for the Irish System—I can see nothing in it except that they get most of the prisoners sent to America, and if they would send us there, we might get a living too, without going on the cross! There are not many regular prigs in the Irish prisons. Many of them are fellows who got into trouble in some drunken row, and the people in Ireland are not so prejudiced against convicts as the English are, so that work is easier got; another thing is when your time is near up you are trusted a little, and get some liberty to go about. In this way the authorities can see who's who. Then the numbers are fewer altogether, and a small lot of men are easier dealt with, you know, than many thousands. It wouldn't work quite so well here, but the great thing is sending the prisoners abroad in some way or other. Do you know that Lafferty and Badger are going to be sent to New Orleans, by the Catholic Aid Society?"

"No! what will Lafferty do there?"

"Oh! he must go on the cross, I expect, but Badger is able to work. He's a very good 'buzzer,' is Lafferty, mind you, and he might do very well out there."

"Well, the time's up Ned, I suppose you'll be going up to the 'farm' to-night, and we sha'n't see you again. Well, old fellow, take care of old Tommy's black draughts, and look after yourself when you get out. Good-bye."

"Good-bye, old fellow, good luck to ye."

"Fall in."

"There's the officer shouting 'fall in.'"

"Well, ta ta."

"Ta ta."

CHAPTER XX.

CAPITAL PUNISHMENTS—I RECEIVE MY LICENSE—STRANGE BED-FELLOWS—MY LIBERATION.

During the last year of my imprisonment a bill relating to the crimes of murder and manslaughter was brought before Parliament, and the discussion in the House of Commons which ensued was much commented upon by the prisoners. About the same time I read a lecture touching on the same subject, which had been delivered to the Young Men's Christian Association, at Exeter Hall, and it may not be out of place here if I venture to express my opinion on the subject as well, possessing as I do the advantage over most of those who have discussed it out of doors, in having heard the opinions of those likely to commit such crimes, and having a familiar acquaintance with their habits, and the motives from which they act. The reverend lecturer to whom I have referred, based his argument for the continued infliction of capital punishment on the perpetual obligation of the Mosaic law: "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed." He also maintained, if I understand him rightly, that the office of the hangman ought to be considered the highest object of human ambition, and that the hangman himself should take precedence of archbishops, kings, and emperors, inasmuch as he occupied the position of Almighty God, taking vengeance for the shedding of human blood. I confess I can scarcely conceive of a Christian man occupying such a position, neither can I agree with the reverend lecturer that the command given to Noah was intended to extend to all generations and societies of men. When it was promulgated there were only a few individuals left to people the universe, and the command was made absolute. There is no intimation of any distinction between the deliberate and the accidental shedding of human blood, and until some such distinction is made our conceptions of the eternal rectitude and justice of God, must be of a very peculiar and imperfect kind. That some distinction ought to be made is a fact which men in all ages and of all degrees of civilization have recognized, and have found their authority for making such a distinction, not in any spoken or written law, but in a much higher and older law than these, the universal conscience of mankind. That such a distinction was found necessary as the race became more numerous, is conclusively shown by the promulgation of the Mosaic law: "He that smiteth a man so that he die shall be surely put to death, and if a man lie not in wait, but God deliver him into his hand, then I will appoint thee a place whither he shall flee." (Ex. xxi., 12, 13.) This was a great modification of the original injunction, and also shows clearly, to my mind at least, that all human punishments should be regulated by the condition of the people for whose benefit they are designed. Again, in the same chapter from which I have already quoted, I find the following, "Thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, &c.," a law evidently designed for a semi-barbarous people, and admitting of prompt administration and summary execution. Turning to the Christian law on the subject we find, "Ye have heard that it hath been said an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth, but I say unto you that ye resist not evil." This would appear to introduce a new principle of forbearance, and if we refer to the case of the woman taken in adultery, where the legal penalty was death, we find that mercy, and not vengeance, is the principle on which our penal code ought to be based.

But leaving scriptural grounds and descending to those of expediency merely. Does capital punishment deter men from committing murder more effectually than perpetual imprisonment would? I believe that 999 out of every 1000 of our convicts even would not commit deliberate murder, although the penalty was only a few months' imprisonment and detection certain, unless under peculiar temptation or provocation. It is a crime naturally abhorrent even to the thief, and the majority of those men capable of committing wilful murder would on the whole, I believe, prefer to be hanged out of their misery, than remain in prison all their life. If all hope of release could be utterly extinguished, very few of such men would chance perpetual imprisonment, if they had it in their option. Of course we could not banish hope from the minds of all, and therefore many would at first cling to life, and after a few years seek death as a release from bondage, and even commit suicide rather than endure such suffering longer. I knew one prisoner who pleaded to be hanged, and others who would certainly prefer execution if they had no hope of ultimate liberty. The general opinion of those who had been in prison ten or twelve years out of a 'life' sentence was in favour of execution at once, as being the less dreadful alternative, so that with respect to punishment as a deterring influence, I have no doubt that perpetual imprisonment would be more efficacious than the capital sentence.

Those who are capable of deliberately taking human life with the view of obtaining money, may be divided into two classes. The one class comprising such as prisoners who perpetrate the crime cunningly and in secret, in the firm belief that they will escape detection; the other class are the highwaymen and garotters, who go daringly and violently to work, pretty sure in their own minds that they will be clever enough to escape.

With regard to the former class, the deterring influence is detection. Capital sentence, perpetual imprisonment, or even a less severe sentence would operate equally in preventing the commission of the crime in their case, because the idea is not generally present in their mind when they premeditate it, or is completely outweighed by the fear of detection or discovery. With reference to the second and bolder class, a lingering imprisonment would appear more horrible in their estimation, and exercise an equal if not a greater deterring influence than the scaffold. Some of those men with whom I have met would glory in dying 'game' as they term it. Those who commit murder in order to gratify feelings of revenge, usually, I believe, find the gratification of the passion so sweet that they are for the time quite regardless of their own lives; and when jealousy is the cause of murder, it often happens that the murderer takes the law into his own hands and visits upon himself the penalty. I met cases in point, and in none of them did the fear of the death sentence operate against the perpetration of crime. They had made up their minds to lose their lives, and did not calculate on escape. Such cases are not common, however, and perhaps it is not possible to prevent them occurring.

Those murders perpetrated for the love of money might to some extent be prevented by the general elevation of the mass of society, and by increasing the swiftness and certainty of detection; and I have come, after long study of the subject, and from frequent contact with those saved from the gallows, to the conclusion that capital punishment may now be safely abolished in this country. In all countries where secondary punishments are severe and capital punishments rigorously inflicted, murders are numerous, and in countries where the machinery for the detection of crime is defective it may be the same. Earl Russell, in a late edition of his work on the constitution, expresses opinions on this subject with which I coincide, but I disagree with him when he prescribes imprisonment and hard labour as being the most suitable method of dealing with criminals not capitally punished; I refer, of course, to imprisonment and hard labour as generally understood.

There are three systems of imprisonment: the solitary, the separate and silent, and the promiscuous association of all prisoners at the public works.

The solitary system feeds the lunatic asylums, the separate system has its advantages, if not too long continued, and of the promiscuous association system I have already at some length given my opinion.

In my humble estimation a prison ought to be a place for extracting as much usefulness as possible out of a prisoner for the benefit of that society whose laws he has offended; but the "hard labour" in our prisons is not useful in any sense of the word, either to the prisoner or society, it is sheer waste of energy, which is in itself an evil, and it gives the prisoner an aversion to labour of all kinds, which is another and a much greater evil. Moreover, long imprisonments are injurious to the prisoner under any discipline. If you take a bird, and place it in a cage, and next day liberate it, it will ever retain a dread of confinement; but, if you keep it in a prison for years, and then open the cage door, instead of the sudden eager flight to freedom, it will hover round its little prison, perhaps it will even re-enter it, preferring it to that liberty which it has lost the power to enjoy. So it is with many prisoners, keep them confined, and accustom them for years to prison life, such as it is in the most approved "models," or indeed under any conceivable mode of discipline consistent with unshortened life in such a place, and they will re-enter the world in a great measure, unfitted for the business of life.

I remember having a conversation with an intelligent prisoner who was by no means a criminal at heart. He asked me what means would I recommend for the destruction of these schools of crime?—for so he called the convict prisons.

"Sentence Charles Dickens to ten years' penal servitude, and allow him to use his pen," I replied.

"Well," he said, "I daresay that might do, especially if those intended for our future judges were sentenced along with him; but why should we not try to enlighten the public when we are liberated?"

"You might do so," I replied, "and I sincerely hope you will do so; but I fear, like the down of a thistle on an elephant's back, so would the words of a convict fall upon the public ear!"

"Look at Napoleon III.," said my friend, "he is an ex-convict, and do his words fall lightly on the public ear?"

"His is hardly a case in point," I said; "the greater the criminal, or rather the higher the object he endeavours unlawfully to obtain, the less prejudiced is society against him. They regard these Fenians for instance in a different light to us, yet these men at bottom are or would be wholesale destroyers of human life, whilst we had no intention of doing anyone any injury either in person or property. We are loyal, they are traitors. We would willingly lay down our lives to regain our lost characters and attain to an honourable and useful position in society; they will go out of prison rebels, ready to take up arms against all authority save that of their misguided chiefs, whenever they can do so with apparent safety! Yet these men will be more favourably received by society than you or I will be. You will find when you get free that your position will be very different from what it was, and that anything you say will be viewed with suspicion, as coming from a prejudiced and untrustworthy person, and a well-told falsehood by an official will far outweigh the whole truth if related by a prisoner."

"I could now prove," said my friend, "by the Blue Books, that most of the reports sent to the Home Office regarding these establishments are unreliable, and calculated to deceive and mislead the public as well as the government."

"You will require to be very guarded," I replied; "and above all things adhere strictly to the truth, and if you can gain the ear of some eminent man who takes an interest in the question, you might be the means of doing your country much service."

In consequence of such conversations as the one I have just related, I was led to form the idea of giving this narrative to the public. If it should lead to any change or modification in our criminal law, conducive to the welfare and security of society, I shall consider that my labours have not been altogether vain and unprofitable.

A change of government having taken place during the last year of my imprisonment I had the good fortune to get a few months' more remission of sentence than might otherwise have been the case.

While I feel truly thankful to those noblemen and gentlemen and other friends who interceded for me, my special gratitude is due to Mr. Walpole, for the promptitude he displayed in acknowledging my claim to the few months' mitigation of punishment it was in his power to bestow.

On a Friday morning I was unexpectedly called before the governor, and informed that my license had arrived. I was asked certain particulars in reference to my future intentions and address. I was next measured for a shoe, the only decent and honest article of clothing I ever received in prison; tried on a suit of clothes, and had my portrait taken. On the Saturday morning I was weighed and measured, and taken before the chaplain to receive a few formal words of parting advice. On the following Monday I was again taken before the governor to hear my license read. On Tuesday morning I was removed to Millbank Prison, and lodged there for the night, in a cell along with two other prisoners going to liberty like myself. We slept on narrow dirty mattresses, laid on the floor, so close as to be touching each other. One of my new companions had been nearly four years in the lunatic asylum at Fisherton, and had recovered. The other was a young professional thief, belonging to London, whose mind was just on the verge of insanity, through long confinement in separate cells. To sleep on the floor of a dusty cell, between two such companions, was not quite so comfortable as a bed in the Hotel Meurice, at Paris, where I had spent my last free night. Every moment that divided me from the hour of my liberation now seemed magnified into days. Wednesday morning at last dawned upon me. I was taken out and placed before a regiment of policemen, who each scrutinized me, and that done I received my license. With feelings of inexpressible thankfulness and gratitude to God I heard the heavy prison doors close behind me, and once more I inhaled the sweet free air of Heaven!

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I trudged along the streets, in my shabby clothes and with my deal crutch. I felt a new punishment creeping over me, even whilst the glorious sun of freedom was shedding its welcome rays on my dishonoured head.

With nineteen shillings and threepence in my pocket, but with my reputation lost, my health ruined, alone and a cripple, whom no "Prisoners' Aid Society" would assist, I was expected to begin anew the battle of life!

While I write these lines the bitterness of my new punishment has already visited me. Repulsed from every door where I seek employment, waiting patiently for the replies to my applications for advertised situations, which never come, the brand of the convict has indeed become the very mark of Cain, and I feel as if my fellowmen shrink from me as they pass. Fortunately I found at the post-office a few pounds sent to me from my brother, which, with slight additions, have enabled me to procure a mechanical leg, and to live till I have completed this narrative. But what is the fate of the many so situated, with no friends to help them, save the workhouse or the prison once again? A dreary life amongst paupers, or a short life of pleasure and crime, and long years of bondage to atone for it. Do you wonder if some choose the latter?... May you, gentle reader, never know what it is to lose your limb, your liberty, your character, or your home. May my history prove a beacon to warn you from the quicksands of ambition, on which so many human souls are wrecked, and may your little barque, wafted by gentle sunny gales, be safely steered across the great ocean of life, and at last be securely moored in that haven where blessedness and peace for ever reign!

APPENDIX.

Consultat Général de France en Angleterre.

Londres, le 1er September, 1863.

Le Consul Général de France a Londres a l'honneur de transmettre á Monsieur ——, avec prière de vouloir bien lui en accuser réception, une lettre et une médaille qui lui sont destinées.

Monsieur ——, Negociant.

Ministere de l'Agriculture du Commerce, et des Travaux Public—Secrétarian Général, Mèdaille.

Paris, le 22 Juin, 1863.

Monsieur à la suite du traité de commerce conclu le 23 Janvier, 1860, entre la France et la Grande Bretagne, le Gouvernement de Sa Majesté l'Empereur a du procéder à une enquète dont les résultats devaient le mettre à mème de determiner les Tarifs des droit d'importation en France des produits fabriqués en Angleterre. Pour Consacrer le Souvenir de cette enquête, l'une des plus importantes de ce genre qui aient été faites en France, le Gouvernement à fait frapper une médaille commemorative et il a décidé qu'un exemplaire en bronze de cette médaille serait mis à la disposition des Industriels qui ont déposé dans l'enquéte. J'ai l'honneur, Monsieur, de vous adresser à ce titre l'exemplaire qui vous est destiné. Recevez, Monsieur, l'assurance de ma consideration tres distinguée.

Le Ministre de l'Agriculture, du Commerce et des Travaux Public,

G. ROUHER.

Monsieur ——, Negociant.

[It is requested that any further communication on the subject be addressed to the Secretary to the Board of Trade, Whitehall, London, S.W.]

Office of Committee of Privy Council for Trade,

Whitehall, 9th May, 1861.

Sir,

I am directed by the Lords of the Committee of Privy Council for Trade to transmit to you the accompanying Volume, which contains the evidence taken by the Counseil Supêrieur du Commerce on the Industries of England and France, during their recent enquiry at Paris, in connection with the Commercial Treaty between the two countries. In requesting your acceptance of this Work, of which a limited number of Copies has been placed at the disposal of Her Majesty's Government by the Government of France, I am to convey to you the best thanks of this Board for the valuable assistance which you rendered upon that occasion, both to the Counseil Supêrieur and to the British Commissions.

I am, Sir,

Your obedient Servant,

J. EMMERSON TENNENT.

Order of License to a Convict, made under the Statutes
16 & 17 Vic., c. 99, s. 9; and 27 & 28 Vic., c. 47, s. 4.

Whitehall, day of 18

Her Majesty is graciously pleased to grant to who was convicted of on the day of 18 , and was then and there sentenced to be kept in penal servitude for the term of , and is now confined in the Her Royal License to be at large from the day of his liberation under this order, during the remaining portion of his said term of penal servitude, unless the said shall, before the expiration of the said term, be convicted of some indictable offence within the United Kingdom, in which case such License will be immediately forfeited by law, or unless it shall please Her Majesty sooner to revoke or alter such License.

This License is given subject to the conditions endorsed upon the same, upon the breach of any of which it shall be liable to be revoked, whether such breach is followed by a conviction or not. And Her Majesty hereby orders that the said be set at liberty within Thirty days from the date of this order.

Given under my hand and seal.

Signed, S. H. WALPOLE.

True Copy } E. Y. W. HENDERSON,

License to be at large. } Chairman of the Directors of Convict Prisons.

CONDITIONS.

1.—The holder shall preserve his License, and produce it when called upon to do so by a Magistrate or Police Officer.

2.—He shall abstain from any violation of the law.

3.—He shall not habitually associate with notoriously bad characters, such as reputed thieves and prostitutes.

4.—He shall not lead an idle or dissolute life, without visible means of obtaining an honest livelihood.

If his License is forfeited or revoked in consequence of a Conviction for any Offence, he will be liable to undergo a term of Penal Servitude equal to the portion of his term of years which remained unexpired when his License was granted, viz.:—the term of two years and eleven months.

NOTICE.

He shall report himself to the Police on discharge, and subsequently once in each month; and if he changes his residence from one Police District to another, he shall report himself to the Police of the locality he leaves, and to the Police of that to which he goes, within three days of his arrival: if he fails to do so, his License will be forfeited.

In the foregoing "Ticket-of-leave" the word Licence is spelt with an s. In the Police Documents it is spelt with a c.—So much for the education of Government Officials.

SAVOY STEAM PRESS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.

FOOTNOTES

1
See Appendix.

2
Perth, where the diet is more liberal, was not then opened for convicts.

3
Penal servitude.

4
Policeman.

5
Caught.

6
Man.

7
Counterfeit.

8
Substituted.

9
Sovereign.

10
Gentleman.

11
Prostitute of the gayest sort.

12
Sentenced.

13
Policemen.

14
Shirts.

15
Boys.

16
Watch.

17
Purse.

18
Silver-plate.

19
Hidden.

20
Insane.

21
Hospital.

22
Prostitute.