ABSTRACT OF THE REGULATIONS
RELATING TO THE
TREATMENT AND CONDUCT OF CONVICTED
CRIMINAL PRISONERS.1. Prisoners shall not disobey the orders of the Governor or of any officer of the prison, nor treat them with disrespect.
2. They shall preserve silence, and are not to cause annoyance or disturbance by making unnecessary noise.
3. They shall not communicate or attempt to do so with one another, or with any strangers or others who may visit the prison.
4. They shall not disfigure any part of their cells or damage any property, or deface, erase, destroy, or pull down any rules or other papers hung up therein, or commit any nuisance, or have in their cells or possession any article not sanctioned by the orders and regulations.
5. They shall not be idle, nor feign sickness to evade their work.
6. They shall not be guilty of profane language, of indecent or irreverent conduct, nor shall they use threats towards or commit assaults upon officers or one another.
7. They shall obey such regulations as regards washing, bathing, hair-cutting, and shaving as may from time to time be established, with a view to the proper maintenance of health and cleanliness.
8. They shall keep their cells, utensils, clothing, and bedding clean and neatly arranged, and shall when required clean and sweep the yards, passages, and other parts of the prison.
9. If any prisoner has any complaint to make regarding the diet, it must be made immediately after a meal is served and before any portion of it is eaten. Frivolous and groundless complaints, repeatedly made, will be dealt with as a breach of prison discipline.
10. A prisoner may, if required for the purposes of justice, be photographed.
11. Prisoners shall attend divine service on Sundays, and on other days when such service is performed, unless they receive permission to be absent. No prisoner shall be compelled to attend the religious service of a church to which he does not belong.
12. The following offences committed by male prisoners convicted of felony or sentenced to hard labour will render them liable to corporal punishment:—
1st. Mutiny or open incitement to mutiny in the prison, personal violence to any officer of the prison, aggravated or repeated assaults on a fellow-prisoner, repetition of insulting or threatening language to any officer or prisoner.
2nd. Wilfully and maliciously breaking the prison windows, or otherwise destroying the prison property.
3rd. When under punishment, wilfully making a disturbance tending to interrupt the order and discipline of the prison, and any other act of gross misconduct or insubordination requiring to be suppressed by extraordinary means.
13. A prisoner committing a breach of any of the regulations is liable to be sentenced to confinement in a punishment cell, and such dietary and other punishments as the rules allow.
14. Any gratuity granted to a prisoner may be paid to him through a Prisoners’ Aid Society, or in such way as the Commissioners may direct.
15. Prisoners may, if they desire it, have an interview with the Governor or superior authority to make complaints or prefer requests; and the Governor shall redress any grievance or take such steps as may seem necessary.
16. Any prisoner wishing to see a member of the Visiting Committee shall be allowed to do so on the occasion of his next occurring visit to the prison.
Printed at H.M. Convict Prison, Millbank.
A slamming of doors and turning of keys, and a perfect Babel of voices shouting “Attention!” heralded the Governor’s approach. I can only compare the discord to that which invariably accompanies the progress of an African tribe through a friendly village. A few pop-guns and a tom-tom or two would certainly make the resemblance more complete, though they would probably be objected to by the Home Office on the plea of want of precedent.
The halo of veneration that surrounds a prison governor is by no means confined to himself, but obliquely and in a modified form imparts itself to the humblest of his followers. A miserable door-slammer that usually accompanied him, and combined with this important duty the occasional distribution of letters, amused me on one occasion when I ventured to ask him if he had a letter for me. Such a liberty “from the likes of me to the likes of him” was hardly to be tolerated; and he had the cheek to send me a message that “he objected to be spoken to when accompanying the Governor.”
The door at length opened, and the great man was in the room. “Attention!” was shrieked out as only sycophants can do, and duly responded to; and the halt and the maim, “Old Hundred,” myself, burglars, and pickpockets, presented one uninterrupted, swerving, rickety line. As a spectacle, it must have been truly imposing, during which the Governor sat down. Our names were then respectively called out, and we crossed from one bench to another to show, as it were, our action. Not a muscle of the inspecting officer’s face moved during these scenes in the arena; and it might have been the Sphinx inspecting the army of Pharaoh, so little attention did he apparently pay to us. Nothing, however, had escaped him; and I learnt to believe there was some truth in the assertion that he had eyes in his boots, if not in his pockets also.
As may be supposed, these various inspections took a considerable time, and the day was drawing in before they were all ended. We were thereupon informed that we should occupy temporary cells for “this night only,” and that our final allotment to various parts of the prison would be postponed till the morrow. The cell I now found myself in was indeed a small one—evidently only used as a half-way house, and fitted as sparingly as the thermometer one at Newgate. A notice posted up warned us not to go to bed till the bell rang at eight; and not wishing to break a rule before I had been in the place a day, I foolishly complied with the order.
Meanwhile it was getting dark, and though a gaspipe was fitted into the wall, there was not the slightest indication of its being likely to be lit. Mike, who had frequently been here before, intimated his intention of turning in, and, “order be blowed!” strongly advised us to do the same. I only regret I was weak enough not to. The gloom gradually increased till we were left in outer darkness. To find the bed-clothing would now have been a difficulty; to make any resemblance to a bed an absolute impossibility. Still, on the strength of the notice, I waited through many dark and cold hours, until a brute with a human voice shouted out from somewhere, “You chaps will get no light to-night, so you can turn in when you please.” I was informed afterwards this was a favourite and utterly unauthorized assumption of authority on the part of this bully, and I trust it has only to be noticed to preclude the possibility of its continuance. It was a barbarous and cowardly act, and strictly opposed to the usual system of the prison. How I got through that cold night I cannot tell, for bed, bedding and light were all strangers to me; but night, more merciful than man, threw its mantle over me, and I slept as sound as only the weary can.
CHAPTER XV.
“OAKUM” LET US SING.
Next morning after breakfast we were drafted to our various localities, and, incredible as it may appear, and to show how efficient is the isolation system, men with whom I parted company that morning I never saw again, though I knew they were in the same building. Our various destinations were indicated in a somewhat primitive style—a huge chalk-mark on our backs. As I threaded my way through various wards with a C scrawled on my back, a smell of tar indicated our approach to what might under altered circumstances have been presumed to be a ship-chandler’s; it was, however, only the oakum district. We were here received by the warder in command, and I was assigned to the fifth storey. I was further presented with my official number—594, on a brass plate.
I now discovered the benefit of “light labour and bed.” This particular ward, together with the two in its immediate vicinity, is principally devoted to fresh arrivals; bed is the exception and oakum is the rule. It is absolutely impossible for any accident to exempt you from commencing your career for one month in these wards; it rests, however, with yourself whether you pick oakum or find a substitute. I decided on the latter course. The system of prison life is such a contemptible one, and the espionage, jealousy, currying favour, and tale-bearing so general between the officials from the highest to the lowest, that this portion of my task is a very delicate one. Whatever I write will be carefully sifted; and if I give the slightest clue capable of being followed up, I should probably injure some warder, assistant warder, or prisoner who did me incalculable services at great personal risk; and as this is the last thing I have the smallest intention of doing, I wish to state, once for all, that all names and dates I give are intentionally altered, and that any official who ever befriended me has nothing to fear from my revelations.
As I ascended the spiral staircase a shout of “Coming up!” intimated to the attics that a fresh victim was approaching, and I was formally received and conducted to my cell. The first impression of my permanent address was not encouraging. On a shelf was a Bible and prayer-book, a tin plate, a tin mug, and a tin knife, a wooden spoon, a box of salt, and a piece of soap, producing a combination such as may be seen in any of the illustrated papers during a small war, and supposed to illustrate, as circumstances require, the utensils in daily use amongst Zulus, Ashantis or whatever savages we may happen to be slaughtering at the time. In another corner was a diminutive basin the size of a saucepan, a slop-pail, and a can of water. On a shelf was a rug and two blankets; bed or bedstead was conspicuous by its absence; and on the table was a lump of rope. My turnkey, having examined my card, ordered in a bed and bedstead, and explained that the rope was to be converted into oakum. A few words and we understood one another; in short, he was a man after my own heart. I have no scruple in mentioning this, for I regret to say the man was dismissed shortly after—through no fault of mine, though indirectly connected with me. I can never forgive myself when I reflect that I had any share in the transaction, though it is a consolation to know that, had he been as careful as he ought, nothing could have brought the offence home to him. In the first instance, he was the victim of as foul a piece of treachery as ever disgraced humanity, and then he lost his head, and compromised himself when absolute silence would have cleared him. I shall narrate the particulars later on. In addition to the above-named furniture, the walls were decorated with a number of printed notices describing your duties, diet, &c., and a prayer (!); a wooden—so much a dozen—effort, supposed to be specially adapted to the requirements of “awakening burglars.” I learnt all these by heart by way of amusement, and will give them for the benefit of the reader. I take especial pleasure in reproducing them, as I believe they’ve never seen daylight before.
SYSTEM OF PROGRESSIVE STAGES FOR MALE
PRISONERS SENTENCED TO HARD LABOUR.
1. A prisoner shall be able to earn on each weekday 8, 7, or 6 marks, according to the degree of his industry; and on Sunday he shall be awarded marks according to the degree of his industry during the previous week.
2. There shall be four stages, and every prisoner shall pass through them or through so much of them as the term of his imprisonment admits.
3. He shall commence in the first stage, and shall remain in the first stage until he has earned 28 × 8, or 224 marks; in the second stage until he has earned 224 more marks, or 448 in the whole; in the third stage until he has earned 224 more marks, or 672 in the whole; in the fourth stage during the remainder of his sentence.
4. A prisoner whose term of imprisonment is twenty-eight days or less shall serve the whole of his term in the first stage.
5. A prisoner who is idle, or who misconducts himself, or is inattentive to instruction, shall be liable
(1) To forfeit gratuity earned or to be earned, or
(2) To forfeit any other stage privileges.
(3) To detention in the stage in which he is until he shall have earned in that stage an additional number of marks.
(4) To degradation to any lower stage (whether such stage is next below the one in which he is or otherwise) until he has earned in such lower stage a stated number of marks.
As soon as the prisoner has earned the stated number, then, unless he has in the meantime incurred further punishment, he shall be restored to the stage from which he was degraded, and be credited with the number of marks he had previously earned therein.
6. None of the foregoing punishments shall exempt a prisoner from any other punishment to which he would be liable for conduct constituting a breach of prison regulations.
7. A prisoner in the first stage will
(a) Be employed ten hours daily in strict separation on first class hard labour, of which six to eight hours will be on crank, tread-wheel, or work of a similar nature.
(b) Sleep on a plank-bed without a mattress.
(c) Earn no gratuity.
8. A prisoner in the second stage will
(a) Be employed as in the first stage until he has completed one month of imprisonment, and afterwards on hard labour of the second class.
(b) Sleep on a plank-bed without a mattress two nights weekly and have a mattress on the other nights.
(c) Receive school instruction.
(d) Have school books in his cell.
(e) Have exercise on Sunday.
(f) Be able to earn a gratuity not exceeding 1s.
(g) The gratuity to a prisoner in this stage, whose sentence is not long enough for him to earn 224 marks in it, may be calculated at 1d. for every 20 marks earned.
9. A prisoner in the third stage will—
(a) Be employed on second class hard labour.
(b) Sleep on a plank-bed without a mattress one night weekly, and have a mattress on other nights.
(c) Receive school instruction.
(d) Have school books in his cell.
(e) Have library books in his cell.
(f) Have exercise on Sunday.
(g) Be able to earn a gratuity not exceeding 1s. 6d.
(h) The gratuity to a prisoner in this stage, whose sentence is not long enough for him to earn 224 marks in it, may be calculated at 1d. for every 12 marks earned.
10. A prisoner in the fourth stage will—
(a) Be eligible for employment of trust in the service of the prison.
(b) Sleep on a Mattress every night.
(c) Receive school instruction.
(d) Have school books in his cell.
(e) Have library books in his cell.
(f) Have exercise on Sunday.
(g) Be allowed to receive and write a letter and receive a visit of twenty minutes; and in every three months afterwards to receive and write a letter, and receive a visit of half-an-hour.
(h) Be able to earn a gratuity not exceeding 2s.
(i) The gratuity to a prisoner in this stage, whose sentence is not long enough for him to earn 224 marks in it, may be calculated at 1d. for every 10 marks earned.
(j) The gratuity to a prisoner in this stage, whose sentence is long enough to enable him to earn more than 896 marks, may be calculated at the same rate, provided that it shall not in any case exceed 10s.
Printed at H.M. Convict Prison, Millbank.
The composition of this abstract, alternating as it does between threats of punishment and hopes of “employments of trust,” clearly stamps it as intended to appeal to the feelings and adapt itself to the capacities of the lowest classes. That any man of education could be roused to any degree of ambition by such “trust” as would be likely to be placed in him, is to suppose an impossible absurdity. The “system” throttles any such contingency, and leads—as all short-sighted policies do—to men believing in no such thing as good faith, and having no inward restraining motive for abstaining from deception. Why will not the Chief Commissioner of Prisons see that the brute power at their disposal is wholly inadequate to prevent a man with a modicum of brains and a few sovereigns from doing as he pleases? Let them try the “confidence trick” in a modified form with the better class of prisoners, and if it is found to fail, revert to the hard and fast rule. A discretionary power in the hands of such a man as the Governor of Coldbath Fields would thoroughly test the experiment.
What trash “employment of trust” sounds to a man who knows that from first to last—however exemplary his behaviour—he is suspected, and never supposed to be lost sight of!
Personally, I felt I’d as lief be in the punishment cells as in any “employment of trust”; they are both birds of the same feather, recognizing no code but brute force, distrust, and degrees of punishment. I can only compare the prison system to a huge machine, capable of crushing a man body and soul, or handling him so lightly that nothing but the “idea” and its moral obligations remain to remind him of its hideous proximity. If any further proof is required of the truth of my deductions, my personal experience will amply provide it.