FELONS' PHOTOS.

Evening Star, Issue 6480, 22 December 1883, Page 2 (Supplement)

FELONS' PHOTOS.

[By "One of the Crowd."]

As mo3t people are aware, the convict on Whom is conferred the privilege of a " ticket of leave" is not absolutely free from the moment of his emancipation to go where he likes and do as he pleases without let or hindrance. Until the expiration of the term for which he was sentenced, he must notify to the authorities his place of residence, and at stated intervals he must put in an appearance at the police station of the district where he is located. Failing to observe these conditions on which his license is granted, ho is liable at any time to be rearrested and sent back to prison to serve the remainder of the term for which he was Originally condemned. Latterly, however, it has been found practicable to relax these rigid rules. Under arrangement with the Discharged Prisoners' Aid Society, in Brooke street, Holborn, a conditionally released man, provided he is well-behaved is relieved from the inconvenience and irksomeness of having to report himself once a month to the police. Careful inventory is made of every speck and scar he may have on his body, his inclination to bandiness.or bent shoulders is noted, with his height, his breadth, and the color of his eyes and hair. As a climax to these kindly precautions, within a short time of his leaving the convict prison he is photographed, not in convict garb. In his "skeleton &uit" of branded blanketing his appearance is so totally different from that when ho is dressed in ordinary attire that to photograph him under such conditions would add to the difficulties of identity should he afterwards be "wanted." Even as the business is managed the incorrigible rascal has a chance afforded him he is cot entitled to. As a rule his portrait is taken after ho is attired in the liberty suit the prison authorities provide for him. The convict who has to pose for his portrait is, of course, as well aware as the operators of the purpose for which it is required. It is one which, assuming that the rascal has no present intention to abandon the crooked path and walk in the straight, can be no other than inimical to his future welfare. His study, therefore, is to make it as little like him as possible. To manage this, he need not seek to disguise his natural expression of countenance by extravagant contortions. Were he to resort to such a flagrant device he would jeopardise his accumulated good-conduct money, and after all be coriipelled to do what was required of him. But it is easy to assume a joyous smile--the delightful prospect of speedy release sufficiently accounts for it—quite foreign to his visage, to project the under jaw a little, or puree the lips, or, as though lost in innocent wonderment as to what on earth they were taking his likeness for, the convict may, without exciting suspicion, so raise his eyebrows as for the time to completely do away with the scowl that is his natural wear. There are a dozen similar tricks, which, judiciously practised, will answer the purpose. That it is an artifice commonly, if not invariably, resorted to is notorious. From time to time I have had opportunities of narrowly comparing dozens of recentlyexecuted convict photographs with the originals, and I can positively say that in no more than one instance in six is th 3 resemblance so unmistakeable as to leave no room for doubt. Indeed, it would seem that the prison authorities themselves are alive to the desirability of strengthening the photographic evidence of identity, for of late the convict's right hand appears in the picture as conspicuously as his face. With fingers spread, it is laid, knuckles outward, on the man's breast, and, seen in that prominent position, any peculiarity that may characterise the limb is apparent at a glance. At first thought there may appear to be not much in this; but it is an ascertained fact that, if a hunded hard-working right hands were closely examined, there would be found no two even passably alike. Apart from such disfigurements as enlarged knuckles, the effect of rheumatism or accidental injury or crooked finger 3 or scars, there is almost certain to exist some distinguishing natural peculiarity—an unusually thick thumb or fingers, or an exceptionally broad or narrow palm. A man may alter the expression of his features, but his faithfully-photographed hand will bear witness against him more reliably than even his handwriting. I am of course not at liberty to mention names, nor would it be fair to indicate too distinctly any individual of a day's batch with which the painstaking and indefatigable secretary of the Brooke street institution has to deal; but a recent visit there impressed me more than ever with the necessity that exists for taking every possible precaution against men of the confirmed ruffian and convict class shirking or evading photographic testimony as to their identity. Before the individual I allude to was called into the room I was shown his likeness, and except that he wore the stiff cut-away coat, of prison build, he might, judging from his bronzed and weather-beaten aspect, his beatific expression of countenance, and his eyes so piously upturned, have teen some way-worn pilgrim who at last had arrived at a shrine where he might lay down his weary head of worldly care and end his days in peace and tranquility, As to tho outstretched hand en his bosom, in my ignorance of palmistry it might have been as honest a hand as ever toiled, and placed in its present position devotionally. A contemplation of the portrait certainly did not prepare me for such a villainous original as presently put his head in at the door. He was a muscular man beyond middle-age and of medium height, his hair was iron-grey, and his tancolored wrinkled face seemed a legible map of every known iniquity. He appeared to be suffering from, or shamming—which was quite as likely—some opthalmic malady, and he carried in his hand a white handkerchief, which he applied frequently to his eyes. He had just been let out on a ticket after his third service of penal servitude, and, judging from the unabashed insolence of his demeanor, I believe he would aspire to no higher compliment than to be described as quite as accomplished a low-class ruffian as the annals of Portland or Dartmoor could furnish record of. One is accustomed to regard the old device of "gammoning" the chaplain as long ago worked out and abandoned ; but it scarcely seemed so in face of the fact that here was an old gaol bird, black in guilt as j any crow, and presumably up to every j dodge, the practice of which while in prison would bring him easement and emolument, yet so in the habit was he of shamming religion that, free and at large, and for the time defiant of gaol discipline, he could not get out of the way of it. His most commonplace observations were seasoned with Scripture quotations, and he was so accustomed to turn up his eyes that it seemed to be a feature of the disease that afflicted him. He had come to make a "draw" on the gratuity money the society held in trust for him; and so completely had he cast off his old mantle of sin, as he would wish us to understand, that he felt like a child again. Certainly he prattled like one, in artless confidence, spiced with wonder, that he, the reformed one, could ever have been identified with that monster in human form, his former self. He gave us a brief history of his life. How, at the age of sixteen, and being respectably employed in a Government office, he begau his evil career by " weeding"—not in an agricultural or a botanical sense, but in the way of picking and stealing. He knew how to get access to the desks of his fellow-clerks, and from thence he abstracted, cautiously at first no doubt, odd sixpences and shillings from any moneys he might find there, or making shift with a few postage stamps in the event of his searching in vain for coin. Detected and convicted of the offence in question, he was sentenced to ! a short term of imprisonment, and ever since—now forty-three years ago, for his present ago was fifty-nine, he had been " doing a time " or qualifying himself for it. Nevertheless—and as he frankly and gratefully, and with an apt quotation from St. Paul's Epistle to the Ephcsians confessed—he had been lucky. Ho had been three-ami-forty years at ''the game." and had beon j "fctrctched "—•/.?., sent for penal servitude—three times only. How many years had he passed in prison altogether ? " Well, really, sir, my memory is not what it used to bo. 'The grass withers and the flower fades,' gentlemen, ' and the strength of man is as a fleeting shadow.' Did you allude to my «tumbles' of all kinds ? Oh, I bog pardon for using such words in the presence of you who wouldn't understand 'em. When I mention tumbles I mean mere ' summaries' of

one month to three. Well, I wuldnt say, gentlemen, never bavingbeen at toe trouble to put 'em down or think much of em, but I Bhould think, take it roughly-not, mind yon, aaa statement I would pledge my sacred word of honor to-I dare say I've been in altogether a matter of eighteen years. Longer out than in, then, and always making a living dishonestly ?" "Oh yes, sir, always ' busy.'" " You, of course, have bad many companions in your time. Is it your experience that, adopting robbery as a trade, a man will average as much liberty as imprisonment?" He was professionally inj terested now, and unconsciously dropping the hypocrite, mused on the matter for several seconds ere he made answer. " Well, you see, sir, it would muchly depend on a mau's walks in life. The commoner the work the more constant a man is at it, and the more risk he runs of being stopped. But where there's any talent, and a man aims at hauls that are worth having, he has more leisure from business, and therefore there can't be so much danger. Such a one would look, on arf and arf—arf in and arf cut, I mean—as about what might be expected. I don't wish to brag, * pride goeth before a fall,' as you may p'raps remember, sir. But before I was called on to do my last time, I run loose for over six years without being 'dropped on' once!" And if Hi photograph could have been taken at that instant it might safely have challenged competition as being a portrait of the cunningest rascal in the kingdom. Asked as to the particular branch of the profession to which ho had mostly applied his talents, he modestly answered that for many years past he had been a " daylight hand at the dwelling-house business." The art and mystery of this, as he proceeded to explain, "consisted at first in gaining admittance to a residence without l>eing guilty of the serious crime of house-breaking, and secondly, in being able, by presence of mind and ready wit, to account for being suddenly discovered on the stairs, or in a paseagc or kitchen. But if a man knoWs his work," continued the old thief, "it comes as easy as AB C. Being the daytime, he has seldom anyone to do with but women ; and if a man haß a smart appearance, with a pair of nice spectacles on, and a book in his hand and a pencil behind his ear, he must be discovered under very awkward circumstances if he can't manage to stall off inquiry, or anyhow, face it out well enough to get away. Bat it is no use unless a mau can make a respectable appearance," repeated the aged pilgrim emphatically. Most of this interesting conversation was communicated to me in an undertone, while Mr Secretary was engaged at something that had suddenly demanded his attention ; but now he was ready to attend to the convict's affairs, and asked him to state what he 1 wanted, and be quick about it; and immediately the cunning old " lag " became again a whining hypocrite, and grew all on a sudden marvellously like his portrait in the convicts' album lying on an adjacent desk. "Sir," said he, addressing the secretary, " it isu't because I can expect you to believe , me, but because I feel such strength and confidence in my good resolutions that I'm agoing to ask you a favors I want you, sir, strange as the request may Bfcem, to look en me as a man that may be trusted, and let me have, down on the nail, the money of mine that you hold." " What do ycu wish to do with it ? " asked Mr Secretary quietly. "Sir, it is my intention to get respectable employment, and what I'm agoing to strive for" (and here he quoted St. Matthew on the virtue of striving) "is for a situation as kitchen porter in some hotel, sir." "And don't you consider that the clothes you have on, and to buy which you had money of me on Saturday last, are quite good enough for that purpose?" The man of many "tumbles" turned up his eyes till only the Whites were Viaible, at the secretary's amiable ignorance of the ways of the world, and then deliberately proceeded to divest himself of his jacket, as though intending to employ pugilistic argument to enforce his views. But it was oniy to show us the quality and texture of the check shirt beneath. " Well, what is the matter with it ?" the secretary asked. " What, as a shirt, sir ? Oh, nothing. In charging 63 4d for two Of 'em I don t fay that the man you recommended me put the screw on, and, least of all, sir, do I say that if he did you knowed anything about it. But, my dear sir, no man wot expected to keep his situation as kitchen porter at an hotel would wear a fchirt like this, or boots like these, or any other part of the clothes. He'd be jeered at if he did ! You, sir, that very likely keep flunkeys of your own, may know a little of what they are. It would be, one to the other, ' What do you think ot the new chap in the kitchen ? Just come out of the workhouse, I should say, judging from the coarseness of his boots, trousers, and his check shirt.'" "Well, give me an idea of what you would like to buy ?" " Well, sir, I should like to give as much as 7a 6d for a good white shirt, and say about 12s 6d For a pair of light, stylish shoes, and what I Bhould like is a nice pair of spectacles, and, as far as my money would run to it, everything else accordin', sir." The transDarent impudence of the old rascal's request was such that Mr Secretary raising his face from his desk regarded him with a look that caused the former to hastily raise his white handkerchief to his afflicted eyes —not to comfort them, however, but to conceal a griu that could not be repressed. There could be no doubt as to what his object was. His catalogue of requirements —even to the "nice pair of spectacles"— tallied exactly with the sort of respectability necessary, as he himself had but just before assured me, for the successful pursuit of the trade of "a daylight hand, at the dwellinghouse business" It was evident, that with his face still sun-scorched through outdoor exposure in the Portland quarries, and his hair grown not a quarter of an inch since it was last shorn with the shears of the jail barber, it was his full intention, if it could in any way be managed, to get back to the old business, without so much as a day's loss of time. But Mr Secretary was calmly equal to the occasion. "You, of course, wouldn't want to wear such good clothes in your work as a kitchen porter," he remarked. "Oh, certainly not, sir; only of evenings, when I had done my work, and on Sundays. What I've got on would be quite good enough to work in, and quite good enough to wear while you are seeking a situation. That's it, sir. It wouldn't do to make application looking too genteel for the job." "Quite so," returned Mr Secretary coolly. "Then, when you have found the situation you speak of, and it is all settled to my satisfaction, you shall have your money to do as you please with; but, meanwhile, you will have to be content with drawing as much, from time to time, as you are entitled to draw." The venerable convict was eo overcome with emotion of some sort or other that it was not until he had well dalbed hia eyes with his handkerchief that he could find voice to remark: "Thank you, sir; I hope I shall be ever mindful of your kindness." And he went off, still dabbing his eyes, and with as much ferocity as though they wero the eyes of an enemy—Mr Secretary, fcr instance.