IN THE CONVICT DAYS.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 16701, 5 April 1922, Page 5

IN THE CONVICT DAYS.

"STOCKADE” MEMORIES. Hatch worth, a pleasant little old village in Hertfordshire, boasts as its rector one who is also experienced and studious in criminology. He is the Rev Benjamin Reed, who formerly lived among convicts in Australia As a very young man. nearly fifty years ago. Air Reed went out to Australia. and there, as “ parson on horseback. ■’ and later as chaplain, he mixed with murderers, bushrangers, cutthroats and forgers of a very choice variety. They liked Air Reed. A testimonial banging in his study reads 1 ‘ Reverend Sir,-—AVe. the members of the Church of England, now* in Pentridge Stockade, do eametsly desire to testify our regret at the prospect of yotir early departure from us, and, although w r e wish you a more congenial congregation and in « more pleasing sphere, we. do heartily assure you that you cannot minister to on© where you will be more heartily appreciated or one where you will be more missed. And, further, wc- sincerely’ thank you foi your endeavours on behalf of some of us, and trust that, you and yours may never fail to find a happy path through life, and friends to wish you. as we do. God-speed, and finally to feel that, life is worth living.” The “ stockade ” was a notorious convict settlement. The message, which is signed “ on behalf of the members of the congregation,” is written in exquisitely delicate handwriting. The author was a brilliant forger in private life. He was also the church organist. The other signatories to these admirable sentiments wore a wife murderer and a gentleman doing seven years for theft. Each member of that congregation.” said Air Reed, “ wore about 601 b of irons on bis legs, and when T came in to begin the service they al] rose with a. dignified clank. Rows ot warders stood up with revolvers in their bonds to quell any p° ss ihle disturbance.” The chain gangs iu the eighties were terrible places for men to suffer in, and Pent ridge Stockade was one of the worst. A Wesleyan chaplain was brained with a stool just before Air bleed arrived, bv a convict who wanted t > get hanged because be could not bear the thought of. liis long sentence. Many of them were English public school men of brilliant intellect. On the other hand, there were men like Power, the famous bushranger, whom AT- Reed knew intimately. “What do they know of us?** said Power once, speaking of prison, authorities. ** AVe keep them, and they know it. There is not one of them who cares a rap ther prisonsiare reformed or net." Although he never met the Kelly o-ang. there, was one of the rangers called Billy Barnes, of whom Air Reed i tells a. curious story. In prison he told Air Reed one day they wouldii t catch him again once he got out. “1 hey gave me this,” he explained. “for breaking into an hotel, yet that man next door gets less for robbing a poor old woman of 7id on a Saturday night.” Shortly after a well-known “ fence, or receiver of stolen goods, was found with his throat cut. and suicide was presumed. Apparently nothing had been stolen. The body bad hc.cn buried, but was exhumed, as somebody was struck with an idea. The razor was in the Head man’s left hand, but be was known by intimates to be right-handed ! It was then found that a throat bone bad been smashed by pressure, proving conclusively the man was throttled. Suspicion rested on Barnes, and a raid on bis house: confirmed a foregone conclusion. Air Reed took part in some painfully dramatic episodes. A man driven desperate by disease, cut bis stepchild’s throat. He was a ‘Miter.’’ but after two years’ treatment recovered, and not only became normal, but deeply religious. Everybody liked him. and unusual lengths were gone to to get remittance, of sentence. One day the governor sent for Mr Reed and told him the Secretary of State had refused the man’s release. The governor was not sentimental, but he had not the heart to tell the convict, so Mr Reed was deputed to do it. He thus describes the scene : As the man came into the room he cast one glance at. my face, and, dropping on bis knees, cried with a broken heart. 1 was too overcome to tell him. AVe clasped hands, as we sang faJteringly- the first words that came into my head—the. • words of an old hvmn.” Air Reed has had many other terrible experiences l>oth in Australia and in England. There was the man who went to the scaffold with another, but the other confessed, at the last moment. and only one went through the “ drop.” Then there was his experience of a murderer in a large Lancashire town a few years ago. Air Reed's efforts failed to get a reprieve. "I don’t want to live,” said the man, quietly. “Feel my pulse.” He bold out bis wrist, and the beat was as even as a, clock. For many years Air Reed has been a student of crime and criminals. He has a. fine collection of rare literature upon the subject; he has lectured upon penology and advocated with first-hand knowledge the urgency of prison reform. The old rectory contains many a grim relic ot bygone wrongdoers. Sometimes Air Reed smiles as he. -turns over the leaves of a large scrap book in which many beautiful “ forms of service” are cherished< They are. real works of art, and have been admired by more than one bishop. But bank managers many years ago need to bate the sight of that- penmanship!