Secrets of the Prison House.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XII, Issue XIII, 31 March 1894, Page 292

Secrets of the Prison House.

tF the poet was right when he told us that 1 the proper study of mankind is man,’ then surely it is meet and proper that we should study all sorts and conditions of men, not even excepting those worst specimens of humanity who go under the general name of the criminal classes. And indeed virtue is its own reward in this matter, for not only is the study of criminals eminently instructive, but decidedly interesting and often amusing. It is an old saying and true that one half the world does not know how the other half lives ; and though we would not for a moment suggest that one half of the world is of criminal tendencies and passes some part of its time in gaol, yet of the section that does inhabit our prisons so little is known by the general public that Major Griffiths calls his sketches and studies in gaol life ‘ secrets ’ of the prison-house. In these two weighty volumes—weighty, that is, with wealth of fact and observation — Major Griffiths deals in a masterly way with PRISON LIFE IN ITS EVERY ASPECT. He literally surveys his subject from ‘ China to I‘eru,’ and gives us resumes, statistics, and reports of prisons in every country of the world. He has personally visited a great many of them, is conversant with the literature of the sub-

ject, and as one of Her Majesty’s inspectors of prisons has had unusual opportunities of acquiring that knowledge of and forming those opinions on prisoners and their occupants which enable him to write in so striking a way, and as one having authority on the men and matters he treats of. In his introductory chapters Major Griffiths gives us information on the general subject of prison science, on crime and the means for its repression, on the various methods and terms of imprisonment TYPES OF CRIMINALS, AND THEORIES OF TREATMENT, on hereditary tendencies to crime, criminal characteristics and anthropology, traits of prisoners, and other facts most interesting to the philanthropist, the statesman, the taxpayer, and the general reader. With regard to the new type of man, the criminal who is bound by the laws of heredity to do some crime each day of his life, the Major does not believe in the new fangled ideas of the ingenious Professor Lonrbroso and other criminal anthropologists who would relieve him of all responsibility for his misdeeds. Major Griffiths calls this a ‘dangerous and corrupting doctrine,’ and we heaitily agree with him. To say that the shape of a man’s head or the relative length of his ears frees him from all responsibility for his crimes is to advance a super-sentimental, falsely-philanthropic, morbid doctrine that, if acted on, would lay society open to the destructive and anarchistic tendencies of the very worst classes of the community. PERSONAL PECULIARITIES. Of the characteristic traits and ways of the * instinctive,

born, cr congenital ’ criminal we get some very curious and instructive information in Major Griffiths’ book. In speak ing of habitual criminals, he says : — • They bear pain with more or less callous indifference, and face without shrinking situations that will certainly inflict it in a very acute form. Dr. Nicholson has said that those sentenced to be flogged will await their punishment with a calm and stolid behaviour; if many give way to frantic entreaty and the most poignant anguish during its infliction, it is mainly in the hope of escaping part of the punishment. I have known a case where a convict, flogged for a grave offence, took the lash without a murmur, and when cast loose he turned to the officials saying coolly, “ Now I’ll fight the best man amongst you.” Such bravado was no doubt a mixture of high courage and physical insensibility to pain. This is further shown by the readiness with which convicts have endured mutilation of limb, throwing themselves beneath railway-trucks, or over the railings of the topmost landing of a four or five-storied prison, to gain some object, but not necessarily a “ trifling one,” and generally, that of immunity from further hard labour. One of the most deliberate acts of this kind occurred at Chatham convict prison years ago, when it was the custom to allow prisoners to shave themselves. The

razor was passed into the cell under the door to one man, who forthwith cut off three fingers of one hand, and rolled them out with the razor. An extraordinary case is recorded as having happened in one of the convict camps in the Southern States of America, where a prisoner of somewhat superior station, a chemist and well informed, but said to be incorrigibly lazy, determined to totally blind himself to escape work. He was already one-eyed, but he procured a needle and tried to persuade a fellow-prisoner to hold it while he drove it into the pupil of his remaining eye.’ THE LADY AND THE BURGLAR. Occasionally criminals show that all the better qualities of human nature are not quite extinct, though slumbering very deep in their breasts. Sometimes these better feelings are but evanescent, and prompted by vanity or the desire to pose as a benefactor ; but occasionally, as the following incident shows, they spring from a wish to atone for misdeeds or to pay a tribute of passing repentance :— ‘ The wife of a well-known journalist, a woman advanced in years, was roused one night when alone in the house by sounds that satisfied her burglars had broken in. The courageous old lady rose and went downstairs into the dining-room, where she found a man in the act of rifling the sideboard and cupboards. He turned on seeing her, and with one blow of his list knocked her down. As soon as she could recover herself she got up and quietly took a seat, whence she addressed the burglar. “ I suppose you have been driven to these evil courses by want. But why add cowardly violence to your crime? You see I am an

old woman, old enough to be your mother. Is your mother still alive ? Do you remember her ? What would you say or do to a man who struck her in the face and knocked her down ?” Her words as she spoke had a strange and marked effect upon the housebreaker. It was obvious that the reference to his mother touched him. He was one of those criminals who had a mother (and all have not—not a mother they know, or who knows and acknowledges them), and the sight of this poor creature he had so cruelly ill-used created a revulsion in his feelings. There was manifest contrition in him when he said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, and lam ashamed of what lam doing. I will not take anything belonging to you, except this fivepound note. But lam really in desperate straits, and I want some money badly.” He emptied his pockets of the various articles he had annexed ; but with the full, free consent of the old lady made off with the five pounds. Some time afterwards an envelope came addressed to her in a strange hand. Inside was a five-pound note. She always maintained that it was from her burglar, who had thus made full restitution. It would be perhaps cynical to suggest that the cash in question came from some other more successful ** job.” ’ A CONVICT’S SELF-SACRIFICE. Here is another instance of a good action on the part of a convict, which indeed amounted to a great sacrifice, seeing that the prisoner gave up his most coveted boon—liberty. The story is told of a French convict at Toulon : — * Among the free labourers who worked almost side by side with the convicts was an Italian, who always showed them much sympathy and kindness. He brought them extra food, and addressed them like human beings, talking of his family, wife, and home. But the Italian’s gaiety

suddenly left him, and it came out that he was sorely pressed for money. One of the convicts who had heard this, presently announced his intention of making bis escape. He confided his plan to the Italian, and got him to promise to visit him in a hiding-place he knew of, well beyond the town. The convict escaped in due course, and the Italian came to him ; when to the latter’s astonishment the convict said—“ Now, I give myself up to you. My capture will bring you the reward, 100 fr. (£4), and that will help you out of your difficulties.” For a long time the Italian stoutly refused to take advantage of the fugitive’s self-sacrifice, but at last yielded and took back the prisoner. Some time afterwards this noble trait became known to the prison authorities, and the punishment for escape was remitted.’ PRISONERS’ DOMESTIC AFFECTIONS. That bad citizens sometimes make good and even affectionate husbands and parents is shown by the family affection so generally shown by prisoners. Major Griffiths tells us that * Prisoners are especially susceptible as regards the domestic affections. Few ignore domestic ties ; on the contrary, strong affection for wife, children, relatives, is a common and abiding virtue among them. This is to be read in every line of their correspondence; in which, although always subjected to official scrutiny, they generally express themselves without reserve. Home and its dear ones form the favourite themes of the rude but often touching doggerel committed during the long lonely hours to the school slate, the prisoner’s constant and familiar friend and companion. This trait of family affection is a useful aid to

discipline ; the right to communicate with friends, whether by letter or visit, is so highly prized that the dread of its deprivation is one of the best incentives to continued good conduct. Half the applications and complaints made to superior officers are with regard to these privileges ; protests against their forfeiture, arguments as to the proper interpretation of the rules, requests that the boon may be advanced a day, a week, a month ; or the still greater concession, that an extra or special interview or letter may be given. THE CONSERVATISM OF CRIMINALS. Here is an interesting note on one of the peculiarities of prisoners:— * One of the most curious characteristics of criminals, both male and female, is their conservatism, so to speak, their persistent adherence to a particular line of crime. When once an offender has embarked in misdoing, he or she seldom changes the crime. They constantly repeat the same offence. I knew one decrepit old woman in the North, nearly seventy years of age, who had passed the greater Fart of her life in prison for stealing wedding-rings. t was her practice to go, decently dressed, and ask to see some rings, as her daughter was shortly to be married. While the stock was shown her, she always tried to secrete two or three while pretending to choose one. I saw her in a country prison, but London was her favourite hunting-ground. Another woman was an unvarying pickpocket; she always stole purses, and if released one week would certainly be convicted the next for the same offence, and when I knew her she bad already expiated it thirty-one times. An old charwoman, who turned her engagements to good account, always carried off, when she could, clothes, overcoats, frocks, table cloths, even the

glass lustres and lamp brackets from the walls. Some steal fowls, ducks ; some oranges and lemons, anything exposed in a shop front. Hotel robbery is a craze with another class, as it was with the notorious Tottie Fay, with whom I bad an extended acquaintance up to the time of her removal to the criminal asylum at Broadmoor. There is a comic side to this offence, owing to the fact that the offender is often taken red handed and committed to gaol in the very garb in which she was arrested. Sometimes it is meagre enough ; at others incongruously fine ; a silk skirt of some bright colour, and a white cashmere opera cloak. Tottie’s wardrobe was always more gorgeous than extensive.’ GOOD OUT OF EVIL. Speaking of the cleverness with tools of many convicts and of the wondeiful things they often do with a scrap of old iron, a wooden spoon, or other simple materials, the Major tells a tale of what he once saw done in this way. On leaving the prison one day, and on handing over his keys to the gatekeeper for custody in the safe, the latter accidentally hampered the lock and could not open the safe :— ‘ I waited some time impatiently, as I was expected elsewhere, but to no purpose. The safe could not be opened, and until it was, not only must I remain on the spot, but so must every other official. It is a strict rule that no one can leave prison until the keys are collected and safely put away. At last, in despair, I turned to the chief warder and asked, ** Have we any especially good cracksman in custody !” “ There is K , sir,” he replied promptly, "one of the most noted housebreakers in London ; doing fifteen years. He is employed at this moment in the carpenter’s shop.” "Send for him,” I said; and presently K appeared under escort, carrying his bag of tools like any British woikman arrives to execute lepairs. He was a tall.

very dark-haired, rather good-looking man ; clean, industrious, and an excellent prisoner. “CAN YOU OPEN THAT SAFE, K ?” I asked quietly, when he was marched into the lodge. “Do you mean it, sir 1 ” he replied, looking at me with an intelligent and irrepressible smile. “ Certainly I do. Examine the lock. If you can manage it—go ahead.” K made only a short inspection, and then picked up a couple of tools. " I think lean do it, sir; shall I try?” I nodded assent, and in less than three minutes the safe door swung open ; the lock was completely conquered. I will not risk mentioning the name of the makers of the safe, which indeed Ido not remember. But it was a patent, and presumably a first-class safe, which thus succumbed so easily to the skilful housebreaker. Fortunately there was an inner smaller safe, which answered all our purposes for security until the outer could be properly repaired. As for K I thanked him, and the next time he came with a request for one of the small privileges so coveted by prisoners, I think it was not denied him.’ MUTINIES IN PRISONS. Prisoners, it seems, are very touchy with regard to food. When Dartmore was a war prison and contained some 10.000 men, a serious disturbance arose because biscuit was issued instead of bread. The French prisoners broke out, and afterwards the American prisoners mutinied for a like cause. Incidentally the story bears on the recent discussion of the use of blank cartridges when dealing with infuriated mobs :— * The prisoners crowded to the first gate, the iron chain of which was broken, and a great crowd came out into the “ market ” square. The Governor tried to persuade them

to go back, but they refused, and at last he ordered the guard to drive them in. The prisoners still resisted, insulted the soldiers, and pelted them with large stones. Upon this, whether directly ordered or not cannot be known, the troops opened.fire. The Governor would have checked this, but was unable to do so. At first the shots were aimed over the heads of the crowd, when the prisoners raised a cry of “ blank cartridges,” and charged the soldiers. Then the fire was given in real earnest ; seven prisoners were killed, and sixty more were dangerously wounded. This unfortunate occurrence was styled at the time “ a horrid massacre,” but a coroner’s jury returned a verdict of justifiable homicide against the troops, and a joint English and American commission of inquiry could only express sorrow at the whole affair. More recently Salillas describes how a part of the prisoners in the presidio of Alcala, near Madrid, refused their rations, and then mutinied. The alarm was great in Madrid. Horse and foot, under the command of a brigadier-general, were posted around the gaol, and a picked body of guardian civiles sent up as a forlorn hope to storm the prison. The piisoners made a stout resistance ; replied with stones to the fire of the civic guards, and fought so well that they killed five and wounded thirty of their assailants before they were subdued. Female prisoners in Spain have made equally determined resistance to authority. On one occasion, when dissatisfied with their food, they rose, anil held out against all comers for three or four days. These Spanish women were full of guile on another occasion, when a rebellion among them took such a threatening aspect that the troops had to be called in. Then the women sent all the mothers with children into the front line, and dared the soldiers to fire upon them.’ THE HORRORS OF THE HULKS. Major Griffiths began his prison experiences, quite acci-

dentally, at Gibraltar, where he was stationed with bis regiment. Being called upon to take over the convict prisons there, to quell a mutiny, he drifted into that new course of life to which he afterwards adhered. At Gibraltar the prison hospital was a hulk, one of the old pontons which had held French prisoners and furnished materials for some iof Napoleon’s bitterest manifestos when preparing for war with England. It is only right to say that the most extravagant of these stories were subsequently denied, and officials sent to Portsmouth and Chatham repotted that the prisoners were ‘happy and comfortable, well-fed and cleanly,’ and they were even provided with billiards and music : — * Although, no doubt, greatly exaggerated by the fierce animosity that raged between the two nations, the terrible accounts given by French prisoners of the English hulks had some foundation in fact. These old and worm eaten battleships were frightfully overcrowded. In a three-decker as many as 1,200 or 1,300 were lodged, and 700 to 800 in a twodecker. The prisoners were sent below an hour or two before nightfall, and remained there till morning, by which time the air had become so foul that the guards who opened the hatches ran for their lives directly they had done so. During the night caudles went out for want of oxygen ; the prisoners lay naked on account of the great heat. Yet some of the stories told must on the face of them be untrue. It was stated after the outbreak on board the Samson, in 1811, that the prisoners had been half starved ; that the food consisted of nothing but worm-eaten biscuits, fish, and salt meat. They were so ravenous, these poor Frenchmen, that on one occasion, when a colonel of militia rode into the Porchester barracks, where a number were confined, and tied up his horse to a po. t, it was gone when he came out a few minutes later. It is asserted in contemporary records

that in that short space of time it had been killed, cut up, and eaten, raw ! The colonel refused to credit the story, but believed it presently, when a prisoner came out still gnawing at a bone, and when he was shown a piece of the horse’s hide. The same summary fate overtook the big dog of the prison butcher.’ A prisoner's poem. In the second volume of Major Griffiths’ book we are told some very charming, and at times pathetic stories of the better qualities of prisoners. Unfortunately these are too long for extraction, but we must find room tor the following little gem of prison literature. It was written by one of the worst female convicts of a large prison on learning the fatal illness of the matron. This violent prisoner, whom no severity could repress, was quelled by the death of the only person who had had the least influence with her : — We hear sod news of thee, lady : They toll us thou art ill : That the place that was thine own, lady. A stranger soon must till. We've found thee true and gentle. Thy tender charity was known. And how we miss thy kindness Is known to us alone. A friend in need we value, Eor trials are our store. And as the weary days go by We miss thee more and more. Hut if tliy days are numbered. May Heaven claim t hee for its own. And thy gracious deeds of charity Light thy pathway to His throne. ESCAPES FROM PRISON. Some capital stories are told of the various methods of piison-breaking. The ingenuity and perseverance displayed

in these attempts are worthy of a better cause. But es capes from prison are not quite so frequent now ar they used to be :— * Most modern prisons are so securely built, and generally so well guarded, that ths chances of escape are altogether against the prisoner. French prison oflicials assert that escapes are impossible from La Grande Roquette, the great convict depot near Pere la Chaise, the scene too of the last drama on the now rare occasions when the guillotine is brought into play. The argument that La Grande Roquette is inexpugnable is negative, and based mainly on the fact that no one as yet has left it except those legitimately through the prison gates—not even Blin, the most famous prison breaker of modern times, who had made thirty escapes before 1844, and who was successfully held at La Roquette. It was said of Blin that he could penetrate arches, run along sloping roofs, fly down to the ground like a bird, lift the stone tNgs of bis cell flooring, or scratch his way out underground with his nails alone. His greatest feat, as told by himself, was at one of the bagnes, where he was bnried in the ditch by his comrades, and took into his hiding-place with him provisions for several days, and tools to regain the surface as soon as the alarm had blown over. But he was speedily missed, and his whereabouts surmised. The Commissary thereupon ordered the floodgates to be opened and the drains and water courses flushed, intending to drown or drive him out. The incoming tide swelled the torrent of sewage, and Blin found himself up to his neck in water. He escaped only by a miracle, and by next morning was six miles from the bagne. He hid the second night in the bushes ; then, having no clothing but that of the prison, he attacked the first passerby, and “with strange forbearance,'’ as he puts it, robbed him only of his clothes. “ I might have killed him. I never thought of it. I—branded as the most abject being, abused, disgraced, despised—l only asked to be put on the right road to Blaye. ” This was after he had forcibly stripped his victim of all he wore. The third night, driven by hunger, he begged for bread at a house, where the stolen garments betrayed him. He was arrested, bound hand and foot, and restored to the bagne. “ For the thirtieth and last time I had failed,” he told the chaplain of La Roquette. “ Now I have no hope; this prison is too strong.”’ A CLEVER CONTRIVANCE. Here is a story of a successful escape from prison. It was effected from Dartmoor by one of the old prisoners of war. Many of these men were clever artisans, and their services were frequently employed in building. Once a rectory was being built by these prisoners, and they adopted a very clever expedient for the escape of one of their number : — ‘ They bad reached that part of the work which consisted in fixing a chimney-flue, and when the stones had been carried up a certain height an inner recess was left large enough to hold a man standing upright. The outer face of the Hue was continued upward, but only with thin stone especially selected for the purpose, and easily removable. After six feet had been gained the strong work was resumed ; the flue was made the proper thickness, and the stones rendered in good mortar. Care was taken to leave air and eyelet holes for breathing and observation in the six feet of thin wall. One afternoon the intending fugitive entered the Hue, and took up his quarters in the abovementioned recess, while his comrades went on with their work above. They worked so well and with so much skill that they were particularly commended by their foreman, who complimented them highly on the excellent face put upon the Hue. Ihe man in hiding was not missed until after the party had left work ; but his absence was discovered at evening roll call. A thorough search was then made of the rectory-house inside and out, but the smooth surface of the walls negatived all idea of a practicable hiding place. A number of vigorous bayonet-thrusts were made up the freshly built Hue, but without betraying or injuring the man inside, and the search was abandoned, ft was believed the prisoner had absconded during the ilay, having successfully eluded the vigilance of the sentries posted in a cordon round the house. At nightfall, however, the immured man, finding all quiet, attacked the green masonry at its thinnest part, and, extricating himself without difficulty, made off unobserved. The state of the Hue on the following morning pointed clearly to the method by which he had effected his escape.’ Want of space alone prevents our giving more extracts from this able, thoughtful, and deeply interesting book, which we heartily recommend to all sorts and conditions of readers, it is as full of information, of interest, of human nature, and real humour as an egg is full of meat, aud it contains enough elements of romance, exciting stories, and wonderful adventures to furnish forth the plots of a dozen ordinary novels. His many years of prison rule and contact with prisoners have not deprived Major Griffiths of his kindly disposition, his appreciation of humour, and his faith in human nature. His book is well written and is well worth reading by all of two great classes—those who have been in prison and those who have not.