BRITISH PRISONS VISITED.

NZ Truth, Issue 173, 10 October 1908, Page 8

BRITISH PRISONS VISITED.

The Prison of Grey Stones, Portland.

JBy LADBROKE BLACK.)

''Don't " waste too much sympathy on the men Here. The punishment they are undergoing may he severe, hut, believe me, they do not suffer as much as you inirie. They flo not suffer- half as much the wives and children they have left behind them m the world of freedomJust imagine what they have to endure ! Everywhere they go they are pointed at with, the finger of scorn. Every action of theirs is a subject of talk and scandal. Ndbody will know them. They are treated •as social lepers. I pity these innocent victims far more than the men whom their own crimes 'have- ■brought- here." So spoke the gentleman who conducted me round the grey stone prison of Porttend..* - I had given utterance to an involuntary expression of pity on seeing the first hatch of convicts jnured, within the walls, and this had been his answer. A CURIOUS ILLUSTRATION of his point of view, strangely etiough, was afforded •me before we had gone far, on our tour of inspection. Turning a coriier near ■•, the Chief Warder's office we came face 50 face with a little procession. It "consisted of a warcler, two women -and a small hoy. It was,' I imagine, , the mother, wife and , son, ,•; ol one of the prisoners Come ■ to pay him a visit, Both the^ women were. well dress- :- ed, and evidently m more or less affluent] circumstances, but on their faces was clearly written- the shame and tragedy of their situation". .Everything possible was, being done to jnake their visit as comfbitable as possible, special precautions iheing taken to secure privacy, of the other convicts were allowed to see ttcia, and -an the gangs 'they had to-pass were made to cease work and turn rtlteir hacks on the pitiful procession,, . ;. • feoth women endeavored to, preserve a' look, of stoic indifference, but the one. brief glimpse that Lcaught. of their faces showed me beyond .doubt the mental SUFFERINGS THEY WERE ENDUK- • ,'-. -. „ ■■ . ing. ;■ ; "•. ;. •■; - • ■■ •i knew then tliat what my guide had safid was true. It .is those who sue . left behind m the world' of freedom who suffer hkst. ■" J ."/• . -. "' • The so-called' Island of Portland, on. which the prison -is situated, . hangs "frow the mainland like an /tpple on a long, tinn stalk, it is icachc-'l "by a curious Uttle railway from ; Weymouth, ' which as : bends to the summit of the' bold promontory by means of one of the steepest graaients m the British Isles. On a plain of. whiteigrey stone and green grass' the prison : stands — a jumblo of buildings, old and new. . Far below stretch vthe blue waters of the' Channelon, the /? eastern . side, hemmed m, by a 1 string of breakwaters to. afford an anchor? : > age for 'the fleetl It is a place very dif-. fefeht from Princetbwn. There the long spread of the moors,' and the considerable acreage of the prison grounds, give, ap impression of liberty,' in "'.' -i to of .holts and, bars, and all r the other paraphernalia by. which , ' ON& SET OF HUMAN, BEINGS restrains the freedom of another. ■ ~. But , here, at ' Portland, the- comparatively'small area covered,, by the : prisoD leaves m one's 'mind a sensation of confinement, and th'd absence ol all "4.A5." pr . Junior- Adlufts, with their more seniible ; treatment and larger liberties, renders ;the shadow of the, gaol all the"darker and more sombre. „ v . l *Ehey have only three classes of convicts \ at Portla«*- U fitars," "Intermediates/ iad "Raaidivists"— thpse "ols lags" whcfnV ' a Ung series of imprisonment seem to imb«e with a permanent taste for- gaol. Id. alt there is accommodation for about- : (Sight hundred men, but f> : the moment - tkare are uti^Julf more -than seven , hun*j«d^in reJ&denee.. "Another factor which »ems to dehumanise this penal settleaent is the absence of a farm, suclias id aisijence m Dartmoor!- There are no aniwds for the convicts to:take'an interest to 'and tehdi Their chief employment is quarrying and .'preparing the great BLOCKS OF PORTLAND STONE, la this task nearly alj the men are en- : gaged, and the grey, gloomy color of the stones, torn by generations of convicts from the earth, seems to pervade the/plncs and creates Van atmosphere of hopelessness aid depression /which ft is difficult to. shike, off. „; •. -. . N /, For each convict here., another weary day of his 'imprisonment commences Shortf jy' after 5 m the morning, with th& ring--ing of the prison bell. At ; a quarter, to l> he breakfasts, ' and then arranges and tidies" up his (Sell. There ax? few plantf^bods used at Portland. Hammocks, slung from hooks ,m the wall, are, employed, and, wi,th "• the addition of a good thick mattress, they, appear to make .very, contfortfcbfe .sleeping quarters. The hammocks are never unslung, and to make his bed all the convict has to do is to coll up his mat- ' tress and arrange his colored blankets neatly. DIVINE SERVICE. About a quarter past 7 he attends, divine, service m the large commodious chapel. • Formerly nearly all the strength of the prison was paraded to preserve order while he was at his devotions, but nowadays only a small contingent , of warders is deemed necessary.. Next comes the general parade, which takes place; on the %ravel walk m front of the prison. Here he 1 is first searched. Taking off his cap with his right hand, he stands with his arms outstretched, while a special officer runs his hands all over his body to find whether he has anything concealed. The ordinary layman would imagine that this elaborate searching of several hundred men must be a long / dtawn-out performance. . 'put years •of practice have made they, "searchers".- very quick and adroit m their business, and I myself saw sev^j hundred and twelve men searched m the space , of about fifteen, minjutes. \ %om the parade ground they are marched.\to their various occupations— che majority, as I have said, to the quarries and , stone-dressing sheds. The quarries, famous m melodrama and sensational fiction, are about ten. minutes' walk from th^'pfison, and are. only, separated from theY village street by a law wall, along which, at regular intervals, civil guards Stand . •■'..' . • SENTRY WITH LOADED MUSKETS At. various points on the rising ground which encircles the quarry "sentry boxes Are erected, where other members of the civil guard are stationed. ,- The quarry presents _ a .busy : scene ; for, whatever .the experts may say, the convict works well arid steadily. I was assured that on an average he did 75 per cent, of what a free ,laborer gets through m a day. All that is expected of the men is that they should work steadily. Some I noticed were putting- a great deal of vig^ or into their tasks. Others worked listlessly and mechanically, but none the less regularly. To preserve the rule of silence m the luarries is 'impossible. The men speak freely, if quietly, to one another, all through the day as they work. They resort to all sorts of expedients < to be enabled to . labor alongside their particular Chums. A convict for whom they hava no liking, but who has been placed m a gang to take the place of one ol their old companions ' stands a good chance of being seriously mauled. Strange and utterly unexpected fights take place. A warder may be watching with his usual careful vigilance two men working quietly side by side. He cannot see or hear them talking. Apparently ifchey are going about their business man orderly and usual manner,. Suddenly one of them TURNS SAVAGELY AND SWJFTLY on the other, aad a free fight ensues until the officer's intervene. , ' To the inexperienced eye the • quarries would seem a very easy place irony which to^escape. A bold dash and a man could have leapt "over the low wall that . rims the excavations before the civil ' guard j would kav* tfmeto gaterooopj £ W» W-

iured, however; that itds utterly fc^os^ sible. A convict actually attempipd it once and was caught. Asked why he did such a foolish thing, he explained Us reasons. • He had been serving a long sentence,, and had already been several years m prisr on. Suddenly, one day, the desire for freedom, which is innate m all of us, took overwhelming control of his mind. He threw down his" tools, and made a dash for fie wall. "It looked so easy;", he explained, "but I know it isn't now.'/ } Several cranes, worked by hand ana steam, are employed to raise the great blocks of stone from the bed. These blocks are then placed on a truck drawn by an engine, which runs on a sort ol miniature railway. The two men who look after this prison line constitute tbe' only free labor employed m the ' gaol. The trucks carry the stone to the steam dressing shop,* where the- blocks are sawn through and cut up by special machines, worked entirely by convicts. The pieces are then taken to be finished off to the stone sheds— a large enclosed space where some two hundred men are employed. One of the most interesting shops In the prison is the smelting house. Herd there ; are furnaces m which iron is melted,- and comes out m a glowing, molten stream, and flows, filling the air with myriads of starlight sparks, into iron vessels which- are held m readiness by the men. It is then; under supervision of a warder, poured- into the moulds which stand m readiness on the floor. USEFUL WORK.The stone, fB may be mentioned, is quarried for the Admiralty, who are the ■owners of the quarry. Other useful work Is- also done for the Navy : in the prison. Oil-cans and other tinwprk of a special standard pattern, are manufactured with a skill and accuracy: which is all the moire remarkable when it is remembered that the men employed had no knowledge of the work before entering prison. Carpentry, tailoring, book-binding, and bagrajalnnsj are among the number of other rindustries practised in;-ifce. prison. The stonework, however, is the all-prevailing form of labor. Convicts under doctor's orders practise it m the dressing sheds. Prisoners who ■'jiave misbehaved themselves are set tothe simplest forms of stonework—-stone-breaking — m special sheds, where they sit m open-air sheds wielding hammers that ■; are carefully chained to the wall, so that they -'cannot be used against the warders or prisoners. The men are also employed at the present moment m using stone that they have quarried to build a new block of cells, and very well and skilful they have done their work. •The -old cells, which this new building is to supersede, aptly illustrate the casr -ter' and more humane conditions under which THE CONVICT NOW LIVES. They are '.So .small and cramped that ho can hardly. *turn round, and with his arms ■ extended he has no difficulty m : touching both walls. ' Strange- to -say, however, many of the "old J^ags" 'bitterly resent being removed from these' pokey quarters. They- prefer - ; iin.. because <Wey are less, airy, and because, moreover, Leing built of corrugated Iron, they arc able to . communicate , with the prisoner ;m; the next compartment. In the . new cells the. practice of this species of telegraphy is : impossible, v ( \The morning's .work ceases at 11, when the men once more parade to. be coun> ;e"d and searched. They, than 'have their dinner, receiving rations m proportion to their employment ; for the man. who works at such a sedentary occup.aijion. as tailor ing s is not fed so • well as- the man engaged all day* iv the" quarry. At one they return to work. -At five the day's task is over. The men file into the prison — the civil guards close mon them from their points . (of observation — and when every officer and convict is inside 1 1 1 , gates are closed. ' Supper follows immediately afterwards, and" the prisoners are free to read or amuse themselves — U such a thing as amusement is possible—until eight, when the" "lights are turned out. ' . ■.- As at Princetown, I was- struck, by the spirit of iumanity which seems to inspire all those concerned with the proper guarding of libe prisoners. The men are inegardea as men, not so many criminal units with no personality, and each case receives special attention. The betterciasi prisoners— and, alas ! there are many such m the. grey stone prison, men who have been members ,bf the learned professions, men who have held HONORABLE AND PROMINENT POSITIONS m. tho city— is not -allowed to v fret and mope himself into a state of rhelahcholia or insanity. He is paid a special visit, he is talked to, his employment is changed, and, mentally, he is nursed back into, a condition m which he is ahle to face, the dreadful punishment of working w^ithbut hope and' existing without freedom. Some men. turn savage Avhen once again they find themselves m Portland. They will: shriek and rave and conduct themselves like lunatics. For. such men there exist the "separate cells"— cells so constructed that, a man may shout himself hoarse without any chance of 'his being heard or of interfering with the comfort of his fellow-convicts. "IT MADE ME FEEL BITTER,?' One curious case I heard. A .man %akI en before the Governor suddenly and unexpectedly, for no apparent reason, I burst into an explosion of bad language and abuse. He was; of course, punished. His punishment over, he vtas asked (Why he \had. bcen>so foolish. '.'I suddenly thought of the pony and cart I bad wheu the police took me, and it made me feel bitter. lam very sorry, sir." To those convicts who had served a certain number of years, and have behaved' themselves, special privileges are : granted. The extra money which their conduct earns them they can spend on such '•' luxuries as jam. Moreover, they [may have books sent m. from outside, 'provided the books are approved of and the convict undertakes to make a present of them to the prison library on ieav-. ing. Also,, he is allowed what is known as "conversation exercise"— a curious term, signifying that for an hour lie may talk and walk with a fellow convict. Some of the toetter-class prisoners „ have been known 'to refuse" this .privilege because of the convict companion with whom they are- expected to . change ideas. I ; t is obvious, of course, that <an ex-soli-citor and Bill Sykes of an East End slum would find little amusement •or profit m conversing, even as an exercise. Saturday- is a half-holiday for the prisoners, and they spend it m cleaning out their cells and m their practice. Anthems are sung m the chapel, and some of the solos rendered were described to me as being of quite a high order of singing. The last place I .visited was the hospital. There were three occupants at the time— one, an old and feeble man, dressing himself by the fire. Another, also very old, lay vx bed. The third *was a very young man, who lay, his arm under his -head, staring at the ceiling. The look ol uti ;r hopelessness and weariness m his eyes lingered m my miad long after I had left behind the grim, grey walls of Portland. *