LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2254, 23 June 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

INCIDENTS OF A CONVICT PRISON. One cold froaty morning a dozen or moro years ago, I received a letter from my old friend and college chum, Frank Markham, then surgeon in one of Her Majesty’s convict prisons. Tho letter ran ns follows ; ‘ Dear Vernon, —Von have often expressed a wish to soo tho inside of a convict ratal) liahmont, in order to find out for yourself how things are managed within these mysterious walls. Tf you sre still of the same mind X am now in a position to gratify your wish. If you can find it convenient to come hero for a few days it will afford much pleasure to ’ Yours faithfully, ‘Frank Mark hah.’ Nothing oonld have given mo greater pleasure than this eff >r of Markham’s. I lost no time, therefore, in answering Markham’s letter, thanking him for his kindness in thinking of me, and gladly accepting tho proffered opportunity. Next day I arrived safely, and was met at the station by Prank, who at once led mo through the oheerlesa-looklng streets, and up the almost perpendicular road that leads from the town to the summit of the rook whereon the said prison is perched. The day was bitterly cold, and a keen north east wmd came swirling round the huge, piled-up masses of "mestene that flanked both sides "Cl sue road, and roared fiercely through the narrow gorges with which tho cliffs are everywhere intersected, as if it meant to search its way into onr very vitals, despite the heavy wraps which we wore, and which only partially shielded ns from its fury. In the teeth of the biting tempest conversation was impossible; and so we toiled on in enforced silence, climbing the hill till we arrived at a gigantic block of stone, in the lee of which we yyere to pause and, recover o-r exhausted breath. Wo wero separated from the edgfi of a tremendous precipice by little more than the breadth of the road ; and aa the fierce gusts caught onr garments and almost lifted us off onr feet, we were glad to oling closer to tho jagged angles of the rock, for fear of being blown over the face of the cliff. 1 availed myself of this rude halting place to take a more leisurely survey of our surroundings. The spot was bleak and cheer-leas-looking. On onr left stood a small mortuary chapel, surrounded by a cemetery, which occupied about two-thirds of the entire plateau. On one side of the chapel the burying-plaoe was decorated with a few stunted evergreens and weather-beaten tombstones; bnt the other side was destitute of all ornament, except a luxuriant growth of nettles and other weeds over row upon row of unmarked and nameless graves. Not a stone, or even a simple cross of wood, not a tree or shrub, was to be seen in that desolate city of the dead. ‘ Prison burying-ground,’ growled my companion, giving a vigorous pull between each word to a somewhat refractory meerschaum. * 1 thought so, ’ I replied ; * but is It used exclusively for the interment of prisoners ?’ ‘Not quite,’ said Frank; ‘you may see that by these consumptive-looking evergreens, and the lichen mottled tomb* tones yonder, that look aa if they were afflicted with some new form of leprosy. We don't confer snob sculptured honors on those who do their country the service of dying in prison.’ ' Some of the neighboring folks, then, I suppose, are buried In this reserved section, la it not so 7’ Frank shook his head. *No ] They wonld as soon think of being thrown into tho sea, uncoffineC, as having their bones laid In the same earth with those of a convict. These have bem erected by the prison authorities in memory of such warders aa have died or been murdered on the spot.’ ‘ Murdered !’ I exclaimed. ‘Murdered la the word,’ replied Frank; * it’s no uncommon thing here, I assure yon, to have an officer of the prison murdered, sometimes for simply doing his dnty; sometimes—and who shall say how often—for exceeding his duty. Yon see, friend, the amiable individuals to whose health 1 have the honor to attend, sometimes tire of the rigorous seclusion to which, for their own and society’s weal, they are condemned. They grow restive under restraint, and often seek to vary tho monotony of their prison life by knocking the life out of some overzealous warder. True, it Is a risky kind of amusement; but from the frequency with which it it tried, and often, I am sorry to say, ascomplished, I am convinced it must have its attractions. Do you see that stone there, away up at the right-hand corner of the ground 5 Well, that’s poor Warder S ’s grave. Ho was reckoned, even by the convicts, whose tastes in that respeot are somewhat hard to please, to be a very considerate officer. He found it necessary, however, on one occasion, to report a prisoner for some breach of regulations ; and the man was punished. The latter endured his sentence of three days’ bread and water in the dark cells with the silence and snllennes] peculiar to men of his class ; but the hunger that preyed upon him only fad and kept alive his revengeful spirit. Tho three days expired, and the convict returned to his work in the gang. His comr«rlon nnf.fr>a*3 flio annml J

'Murdered is tho word,’ replied Frank; * it’s no uncommon thing here, I assure yon, to have an officer of the prison murdered, sometimes for simply doing his dnty; sometimes—and who shall say how often—for exceeding his duty. Yon see, friend, the amiable individuals to whose health I have the honor to attend, sometimes tire of the rigorous seclusion to which, for their own and society’s weal, they are condemned. They grow restive under restraint, and often seek to vary tho monotony of their prison life by knocking the life oat of some overzealous warder. True, it Is a risky kind of amusement; but from the frequency with which it it tried, and often, I am sorry to say, ascomplished, I am convinced it mnst have its attractions. Do yon see that stone there, away up at the right-hand corner of the ground! Well, that’s poor Warder S—-’a grave. Ho was reckoned, even by the convicts, whose tastes in that respeot are somewhat hard to please, to be a very considerate officer. He found it necessary, however, on one occasion, to report a prisoner for some breach of regulations ; and the man was punished. The latter endured his sentence of three days’ bread and water in the dark cells with the silence and sulleunes] peculiar to men of his class ; but the hunger that preyed upon him only fad and kept alive his revengeful spirit. Tho three days expired, and the convict returned to hia work in the gang. His comrades nolle ad the scowl of hate that deepened on his face whenever the warder approached to Inspect his work. Suddenly ho was seen to grasp the heavy hammer used for breaking np the nndressed stones as they came from the quarries, stealthily creep up behind the unsuspecting warder, whose attention was just at the moment occupied by some other business, and then to deal him a heavy blow on the head, which sent him to the foot of the rough embankment, lifeless. Then leavIng the corpse where it lay, he quietly sat down till some officers, who had witnessed the tragedy from a distance, arrived, and secured him. He was hanged at the coanty gaol some weeks ago.’ I listened with painful attention to the description which my friend gave of this terrible crime, which greatly stimulated my curiosity, and I longed to see and know more of that terrible class of beings. * Have you had many such tragedies as the one you have Just related ?’ I inquired. • Not during my time,’replied Frank; 'the present governor takes greater precautions against their recurrence than his predecessor did. Discipline now is much more stringent and severe than it was ; and if a prisoner makes an attempt upon the life of an official, he does so at the immediate risk of his own. In moat oases, the miscreants who make these murderous attacks upon thoir warders have given np all hopes of over regaining their freedom. Hanging, with the notoriety which they thereby acquired, had at one time few or no terrors for them ; but the death that is now meted out In the silence and solitude of the prison, acts as a deterrent upon many who wonld otherwise caro nothing to commit the most serious crime.’

Just then the sol.-mn toll of a passing bell smote upon onr ear. Ho anticipated my question by exclaiming, ‘To bo sure.' I forgot wo had a burial today. You will now have the opportunity of witnessing a convict’s funeral. Yonder’s the grave ; see!’ and he pointed to a spot where the dark earth had been upturned to receive a new occupant. * Who and what was he ?’ I inquired. 1 A poor fellow who got hurt in tho quarries. We had to amputate a leg, and he never rallied after the operation. His sentence of five years would have expired to-morrow had he lived. But hero comes the criminal.’

I looked in the direction indicated, and beheld one of the most mournful sights I ever Witnessed. Wending its way slowly down the steep and rugged incline that led from jtho prison, came the scanty cortege that bore the dead convict to hia 1 st resting-place. First, were two warders with bayonets fixed and rifles loaded , then, ttoma ton yards behind them, four gauntlooking spectres, dressed In short jackets and knioker-bockers, who bore the bier upon which waa deposited the pall-less coffin of rough, black-painted deal boards; and bringing up tho rear, two moro warders, also armed with loaded rides. The four spootrea referred to were convicts, and never shall _ I forget the famished, wolf-like expression on their faces as, with tottering steps and eyes bent earthwards, they passed with their dishonored bnrden into that dank and weod-encumbered abode of the dead.

Anxious to witness the whole of the melancholy proceeding, I quitted my companion’s side, and followed tho funeral. Tho poor shivering bearers carried tho corpse into the little mortuary chapel, at tho door of which It was mot by a sleek young

curate in white surplice and chasuble, who read over it, though not very impressively, part of tho beautiful service for the dead ; after which tho b dy was lifted from the bier and hurried off to the hole prepared to receive it, preceded by the clergyman, who there committed ‘ ashes to ashes, dust to ilust, ’ with a degree of haste for which both the excessive cold as well as the force of habit might pa'tly account. When the last shovelful of earth had been heaped upon the newly-made grave, and patted down so as to lie close on the k'ndred clay beneath, tho convicts wero ordered to ‘fall in,’ and were forthwith marched back to the mortuary chapel, a place that looked as dim as a coalcell, and smelt like a Parisian morgue. Arrived there, two of the prisoners seized upon the bier, the other two ‘ fell in ’ behind, and, guarded as before, were marched back to the prison. I was afterwards informed, that to attend a comrade’s funeaal is regarded as a spsoial privilege by the convicts. They look upon it as a little onting, during which they may have the good fortune to see a stranger ; for anything that wears the appearance of novelty is to these miserable creatures as St cheering blink of the outside world, [To be Continued.)