IN DURANCE VILE.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 13, 29 September 1909, Page 61

IN DURANCE VILE.

THE ROUTINE OF PRISON LIFE. ,iA. VISIT TO MT. EDEN GAOL. It is very difficult to enter into the State of mind of a. criminal For that reason it is scarcely possible to present (the criminal point of view in an article on prison life. It is only possible to record the impressions produced upon the lay mind by a voluntary visit of inspection. We are most of ue led to look (With aversion upon the notion of imprisonment. Yet there be not a few prisoners inour New Zealand gaols for whom the system has so few terrors that every year, as the winter approaches, (they commit some offence which will ensure their being received for a few months at least as the forcibly detained guest of his Majesty. Considering the large numbers of criminals filling our gaols, it is often asked whether we do not make prison life too attractive! For the purpose of acquiring some knowledge of the daily routine of a big prison, a “Star” reporter, by the courtesy of Mr. Boynton, chief gaoler, was conducted through the Mt. Eden prison on a recent afternoon by Mr. H. Hawkins, chief w'arder, a gentleman who put himself to no end of trouble to explain and illustrate the internal administration of a prison. The first impression one gains once on the wrong side of the high walls is that Mt. Eden is an easier place to get into than to get out of. It would be no small .task to scale those wall, even if nobody (Were about, but with gatekeepers and sentries armed to the teeth the taskTs clearly impassible. Crossing the courtyard and entering the prison building itself, one first enters the office of the chief warder, where may foe seen lists of prisoners, schedules of duties, and, last, but not least, the armoury containing a large number of ready-loaded rifles and revolvers for use in cases of emergency, and an assortment of escort and figure of 8 handcuffs. Next to this room is the bedroom of the night orderly officer, who is liable to be called at any moment by the two nightwatchmen on duty. Then come, in a long corridor, the chief gaoler’s office, in which, at a respectable distance from his desk, is a bright steel dock, in which prisoners (who desire to interview the gaoler are placed. Here, also, are warders’ rooms, a visitors’ room, * consulting room for solicitors, the administrative offices, and (the visiting justices’ board room. So far there is nothing essentially different between this and any other public institution. But now We pass through folding glass doors, and come upon a. steel bar gate. Mr. Hawkins produces a bunch of keys, and in a trice we are beneath the dome in the heart of the prison itself. It is a vision of bright steel bars, of stone walls, of long rows of cells with heavy iron doors. Several impressions succeed one another rapidly, and the feeling that this ia the antithesis of human freedom; that here a man ceases to have an individuality, and becomes a mere unit subject to rules and regulations as unalterable as the laws of the Medes and the Persians. There is a feeling of oppression which, to any high-spirited person who was incarcerated for any length of time, would be intolerable. But there is also a feeling that this place is not nearly so gloomy as preconceived notions'made it. The sun is actually shining into the corridors, which are lofty and well-lighted. We enter the penal wing, where all the longterm prisoners are quartered, and find the cells much more habitable and comfortable than might have been imagined. U.us mechanism of the locks on the cells Js worth passing notice—they are capable of locking triple, double, or single, so that it is impossible when the lock is turned once for a prisoner to shut his door or trap a warder. Each two cells are lighted by a gas jet, and there is an apparatus whereby a prisoner desiring to call the attention of the warder can do so. I he canvas hammocks and pillows are exceedingly comfortable—even luxurious—and each prisoner is allowed five Blankets in winter and three blankets in ummer. At the end of each corridor are (not, cold, and shower baths. In each cell there is a small table or ‘edge, a plate, a cup, a knife, fork and poon a slate and perhaps a book or ywo. gome of the prisoners have artistic Wtas, and many of the cells are decorated with pictures, photographs, and so basement of this wing are a dark cells, with hard wooden stretch-

ers for beds, but the dark system has been quite abolished. These were originally punishment cells. No prisoner now has a hard wooden stretcher, hammocks being provided in every case. At present there are 57 prisoners in the penal wing, the total number of prisoners of all kinds being about 300. Among the long-sen-tence prisoners are one doing life, one doing 28 years, two doing 20 and two 15 years, three doing 12 years, one doing 11 years, eight doing 10 years, and any number doing from two to eight years. Just fancy being subjected to the stern routine laid down by the regulations for life!

Having visited the other wings, which are exact replicas of the one just described, the pressman was next conducted through the comfortable and cheery single officers’ quarters; the chapel, a spacious, ’commodious and bright building; and thence to the penal exercise yard. On the way out he was shown the pipe boxes from which pipes are served out daily for a-quarter of an hour’s smoke. There are bright green patches in the exercise yard which relieve the monotony of the grey walls. In one corner is a gruesome sight—ten square white stones, with initials on, sunk in the ground! Passing through to the offices, the kitchen and storerooms were inspected. The precision with which everything is done in a prison was particularly noticeable in the kitchen, where the prisoners’ bread was weighed out most exactly, each man being allowed lib 12oz per diem. All meals are taken in the cells. The meat and vegetables are placed in mess tins, and these are sent up in lifts to the various corridors, where each prisoner takes one. In the storeroom, boots, clothing, soap, and a hundred and one other articles were stored. All the clothes are made in the prison by prison labour, and a visit to the tailors’ shop, the bootmakers’ shop, and the laundry showed this impoitant branch of the work in full swing; but there was always that oppressive feeling of no liberty, of no freedom or hope striking one like a cold chill everywhere. Every prisoner when he enters the gaol receives two kits of clothes, kits being made up and issued every week. A prisoner’s private clothing is stowed away, and before he goes out of gaol his clothes are cleaned and pressed for him. Two months before his time is up he is allowed to grow his hair and beard. A visit to the stonework yards brought one into touch with the large bulk of the prisoners who are engaged in the building of the new wing, and here again one felt a lack of something—a lack of liberty. A rapid survey was taken of the old wooden prison containing the hospital. There are over 100 men in this old prison, a fact which proves the necessity for the new stone wing. If there were a fire in the old prison, it would be well nigh impossible to save anyone. Here, also, the pressman was shown a big room tenanted by natives and known as “the Maori pah.” Hard by is the old debtors’ yard, where now first-class misdemeanants are kept by themselves. On returning to the administrative offices to sign the visitors’ book, the pressman had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of Mr. J. W. Brien, finger print expert, and Mr. E. Baxter, gaol secretary, two gentlemen who very obligingly explained the working of their a departments, and revealing a most elaborate and thorough system of records. Mr. Brien is an enthusiastic finger printist, and showed the writer several interesting enlargements, and showed how one light finger print on a box had been sufficient to convict a man. Mr. Baxter's neat records of past sentences, allowances, minimum sentences, and so on were equally interesting. In conclusion, there is one other fact to which allusion should be made—the exemplary cleanliness of the whole place. The writer has never seen a cleaner place in his life than the kitchen attached to the single officers’ quarters. How-ever, the visitor comes away from Mount Eden with a sigh of relief at the thought that he retains his liberty, but agreeably impressed with the exceedingly humane system which obtains there and the great courtesy of the officers in charge.