When separate confinements were first introduced as a system in this country, public feeling was opposed to it in no slight degree.
The “solitary” cell was held up for disapprobation, not merely as being too severe, but as driving its miserable inmate to insanity.
In the course of time, however, the cell was regarded more favourably; its special worth as a prime agent in promoting a criminal’s moral amendment became pretty generally admitted; and one of the able and powerful exponents of general feeling—tacitly mentioning the cell—distinctly advocates the duty of aiming at the reformation of the culprit.
No one can expect that any system of imprisonment can by human means be successful in every case, but it does not follow that the measures adopted in “separate” prisons are in the greater number of instances wholly inefficacious.
Every precaution is taken that no man shall make his escape, and the first care naturally is that he should not be possessed of any tool or instrument of any kind that is at all likely to be made use of for such a purpose.
Constant care and watchfulness is therefore kept over the prisoners.
Peace would have gladly availed himself of any chance of setting himself free, but it was too plainly demonstrated to him that any such hope would be altogether illusionary.
He found from experience that the watchful eyes of his janitors were constantly on those who were under their charge.
Always while the men were bathing the officers examined their clothing.
One day, on going in after exercise, Peace was surprised, on passing the doors of several cells, to see everything in the greatest confusion.