PRISON COMFORT

Greymouth Evening Star, 23 June 1923, Page 3

PRISON COMFORT

—■ - —, — MUSIC, DEBATES AND BOOKS. In the red brick prison, which is a not unpleasant architectural feature of Bedford, I was shown to-day the improvements in prison life, in which this town has led the way towards the measure of penal reform advocated by the Prison Commissioners, writes a correspondent of the “Daily Chronicle.” This, by the way, is not the prison in which John Bunyan dreamt his splendid dreams. The old gaol lay on the other side of the river Ouse. The present prison was built ‘about 120 years ago, and prisoners arriving to-day walk through a little Georgian courtyard, now .scented with the wallflowers which grow there, and overlooked by the pleasant white-outlined windows of what used to be the Governor’s house. What is the aim of the innovations? As it was explained to me during an inspection of the great airy building," which might be a sanitorium or a special'

gymnasium of some kind, but which certainly does not fit in with one’s preconceived idea of what a prison looks like, the aim of the less grim regime, the more humane outlook, is to turn a prisoner out a better man when he leaves than when the great gates clanged to between him and the outside world.

Bedford is a local prison, where no sentence exceeding two years is served. Consequently, plans there have to be made on the basis of a comparatively short sentence. The men whom I saw at work yesterday in the great hall of the prison bore none of the traditional marks of the convict. They were wearing the new suits of dark grey frieze, which form the first and the most important of the Becudrd innovations. For the most part they were working in their shirt-sleeves for ease at their tasks, concerned with the making of canvas mail-bags. Some of the men who had been allotted lighter tasks were wearing the complete suits, which have the appearance of not ill-fitting cycling attire. The only observable point to differentiate the outfit from

that of the civilian, apart perhaps from a little something in the cut, is the shape of the little forage-caps of the same grey material.

There was variety in the way the hair of the men, who sat quietly at work beneath the cell galleries, had been cut. The old convict cut has not been enforced at Bedford for a year past. The hair of some of the men was brushed back smoothly, in a fair imitation of what used to be known as the knut-cut. In one corner of the hall a. prisoner was shaving himself with a safety razor, the grey-clad barber watching closely his every movement. Officers, as the warders are now called, were unobstrusively supervising the men. Opening from one side of the hall is the

chaplain’s little room. It is decently furnished in the manner of a well-used sitting-room in a small home. The door stands ajar, and the men passing to and fro to their work glance in at the little place, as if it forms some kind of link with the. softer outlines of home, in contrast with the austere cleanliness which must mark the most reformed of prisons. Of all I saw in this prison, where a reasonalje attitude towards moral deformities has replaced the old unreasoning displeasure, that glimpse, which is possible

to all the 150 confined men, into that familiarly furnished little room seemed most potently promising. It is in the chaplain’s room that the prison debating society holds its meetings. I found the man who records the meetings sorting out the clothes of incoming prisoners. He was allowed to give me details of recent debates. Gue on “Art and Music” was very much enjoyed. The men

present came to the conclusion that music particularly has a very refining influence on human nature, but that the listener must have feeling to enjoy it. \ There was another animated debate on the difficult subject of what ought, to bo done for prisoners when they are set free. The general opinion was that it is far more valuable to find a. man work than to give him money. Above the floor of the hall runs a gallery with cells opening from it. It is in these cells that the measure of the change which has been initiated at Bedford can

best be appreciated. "• Setting aside, the first factor that liberty has been taken away, there is nothing to shock or grieve the most sensitive in the general aspect. The creamy wash and paint which have been used leave on the walls the faint impression of sunshine. Air comes through the slatted windows. From some of the high-placed windows the waving boughs cl' the trees in the garden can be seen. Each cell lias its white-painted washstand, furnished with clean white enamelware. A corner stand has lately been fixed for books, brush and comb, and similar small things. A mirror now hangs on each wall, and so no man is cut off from, the means of ensuring that his personal appearance shall not hurt his selfrespect. Prisoners are now allowed to receive books from friends outside, to supplement the fairly comprehensive supply which is available from the library. In one cell I visited the temporary occupant, who was serving a sentence for burglary, had a good collection of scientific books, each carefully fitted with a paper cover. Here also were some of Newman’s books, and a copy of Marcus Aurelius’s “Meditations.”

In the same cell was a prettily embroidered piece of calico, which the prisoner had worked himself with the idea of covering his pillow in the daytime. The line of cells is broken at one point by the prison library, where a man of superior education was working as librarian. He handled his books lovingly, and seemed to have forgotten Tns actual situation in the little refuge. I asked which kind of books were most popular, and he answered, very earnestly, that with the type of man “we” get in here it was really very difficult to choose for them. Later the governor told me that the genial humanitarianism of Dickens is understandably the most popular reading with the men.