THE time at length approached when a radical and complete change was to come over the old city gaol. It was impossible for Newgate to escape for ever the influences pressing so strongly towards prison reform. Elsewhere the spirit had been more or less active, although not uniformly or always to the same extent. There had been a pause in legislation, except of a permissive kind. The 2nd and 3rd Victoria, cap. 56 (1839) laid it down that individuals might be confined separately and apart in single cells. By other acts local authorities were empowered to construct new gaols or hire accommodation in the district; but no steps had been taken in Parliament to enforce a better system of discipline, or to insist upon the construction of prisons on the most approved plan. As regards the first, however, Sir James Graham, when Home Secretary in 1843, had appointed a committee of prison inspectors, presided over by the Under Secretary of State, to draw up rules and dietaries, which were then recommended to and generally adopted by the visiting justices all over the kingdom. As regards the second, the Government had set a good example, and in deciding upon the erection of Pentonville prison had embarked on a considerable expenditure in order to provide a model prison for general imitation. The first stone of Pentonville prison was laid on the 10th April, 1840, by the Marquis of Normanby, then Home Secretary, and the prison, which contained five hundred and twenty cells, was occupied on the 21st December, 1842. This building was a costly affair. The site was uneven, and had to be levelled; moreover, the gross expenditure was increased “partly from its being considered necessary, as it was a national prison, to make a great archway, and to make the character of it more imposing than if it had been situated in the country, and had been an ordinary prison.”[127] Up to the 21st December, 1842, with the additions made to that date, the total expenditure amounted to nearly £90,000, or about £180 per cell. On the other hand, it must be admitted that this was an experimental construction, and that too strict a limitation of outlay would have militated seriously against the usefulness of the building. Nor must it be overlooked that this, the first model prison, although obtained at a considerable cost, became actually what its name implied. Pentonville has really been the model on which all subsequent prison construction has been based. All prisons at home and abroad are but variations, of course with the added improvements following longer experience, of the pattern originated by the architectural genius of Sir Joshua Jebb. The internal arrangements of the new model were carefully supervised by a body of distinguished men, among which were many peers, Lord John Russell, Mr. Shaw-Lefevre, the Speaker of the House of Commons, Sir Benjamin Brodie, Major Jebb, R.E., and the two prison inspectors, Messrs. Crawford and Russell, with whose names the reader is already familiar. Major, afterwards Sir Joshua Jebb, was the moving spirit among these commissioners, and he is now generally recognized as the originator of modern prison architecture.
The movement thus laudably initiated by the Government soon spread to the provinces. Some jurisdictions, greatly to their credit, strove at once to follow the lead of the central authority. Within half-a-dozen years no less than fifty-four new prisons were built on the Pentonville plan, others were in progress, and the total number of separate cells provided amounted to eleven thousand odd. This list included Wakefield, Leeds, Kirkdale, Manchester, Birmingham, and Dublin. Liverpool was building a new prison with a thousand cells, the county of Surrey one with seven hundred. The cost in each varied considerably, the general average being from £120 to £130 per cell. At Pentonville the rate was higher, but there the expense had been increased by the site, the difficulty of access, and the admitted necessity of giving architectural importance to this the national model prison.[128] Other jurisdictions were less prompt to recognize their responsibilities, the city of London among the number, as I shall presently show at length. These were either satisfied with a makeshift, and modified existing buildings, without close regard to their suitability, or for a long time did nothing at all. Among the latter were notably the counties of Cheshire, Lincolnshire, Norfolk, Suffolk, Nottinghamshire, the East and North Ridings of Yorkshire. The south and west of England were also very laggard, and many years were still to elapse before the prisons in these parts were properly reconstituted.
Not less remarkable than this diverse interpretation of a manifest duty was the variety of views as regards the discipline to be introduced in these new prisons. The time was one when thoughtful people who concerned themselves closely with social questions were greatly exercised as to the best system of treating the inmates of a gaol. A new and still imperfectly understood science had arisen, the principles of which were debated by disputants of widely opposite opinions with an earnestness that sometimes bordered upon acrimony. One school were strongly in favour of the continuous separation of prisoners, the other supported the theory of labour in association, but under a stringent rule of silence, with isolation only at night. Both systems came to us from the United States. The difference was really more in degree than in principle, and our modern practice has prudently tried to steer between the two extremes, accepting as the best system a judicious combination of both. But about 1850 the two sides were distinctly hostile, and the controversy ran high. High authorities were in favour of continuous separation. Colonel Jebb preferred it; Messrs. Crawford and Whitworth Russell were convinced that the complete isolation of criminals from one another was the true basis of a sound system of prison discipline. Prison chaplains of experience and high repute, such as Messrs. Field, Clay, Kingsmill, Burt, and Osborne, also advocated it. It was claimed for it that it was more deterrent; that in districts where it was the rule, evil-doers especially dreaded coming under its irksome conditions. Another argument was, that it afforded more hope of the reformation of criminals. The system of associated labour in silence had also its warm supporters, who maintained that under this system prisoners were more industrious and more healthy; that their condition was more natural, and approximated more nearly to that of daily life. Better industrial results were obtained from it, and instruction in trades was easier, and prisoners were more likely to leave gaol with the means of earning an honest livelihood if so disposed. The opposing champions were not slow to find faults and flaws in the system they condemned. Separation was injurious to health, mental or physical, said one side; men broke down when subjected to it for more than a certain period, and it was unsafe to fix this limit above twelve months, although some rash advocates were in favour of eighteen months, some indeed of two years. The other side retorted that the system of associated labour was most costly, so many officers being required to maintain the discipline of silence; moreover, it was nearly impossible to prevent communication and mutual contamination.
It is scarcely necessary to follow the controversy further. I have only introduced the subject as showing how little as yet the State was impressed with the necessity for authoritative interference. The legislature was content to let local jurisdictions experimentalize for themselves; with the strange, anomalous result, that a thief or other criminal might be quite differently treated according as he was incarcerated on one side or another of a border line. This variety was often extended to all branches of prison economy. There was an absolute want of uniformity in dietaries; in some prisons it was too liberal, in others too low. The amount of exercise varied from one or two hours daily to half the working day. The cells inhabited by prisoners were of very varying dimensions; some were not sufficiently ventilated, others were warmed artificially, and were unwholesomely close. The use of gas or some other means of lighting might be adopted, but more often was dispensed with. In a great number of prisons no provision was made for the education of prisoners, in some others there was a sufficient staff of schoolmasters and instructors. The discipline also varied greatly, from the severely penal to the culpably lax. The greatest pains might be taken to secure isolation, the prisoners might be supervised and watched at every step, and made liable to punishment for a trifling breach of an irksome code of regulations, or they might herd together or communicate freely as in the old worst days. They might see each other when they liked, and converse sotto voce, or make signs; or the chances of recognizing or being recognized were reduced to a minimum by the use of a mask.[129] There was no general rule of employment. Hard labour was often not insisted upon in separate confinement; sometimes it embraced the tread-wheel or the newly-invented instruments known as cranks, which ground air. The alternative between labour or idleness, or the selection of the form of labour, were mere matters of chance, and decided according to the views of the local magistracy. They were approved of and employed at some prisons, at others objected to because they were unproductive, and because the machine was often so imperfect that the amount of effort could not be exactly regulated. Opinions differed greatly with regard to the tread-wheel; some authorities advocated it as a very severe and irksome punishment, which was yet under full control, and might be made to work corn-mills or prove otherwise productive; other authorities as strongly condemned it as brutalizing, unequal in its operation, and altogether a “deplorable invention.”
This want of uniformity in prison discipline became ere long an acknowledged evil pressing for some remedy, and the question was once more taken up in the House of Commons. In 1849 Mr. Charles Pearson, M.P., moved for a committee to report upon the best means of securing some uniform system which should be “punitive, reformatory, and self-supporting;” but the session was far advanced, and the matter was relegated to the following year. In 1850 Sir George Grey brought forward a new motion to the same effect, which was promptly carried, with the additional instruction to the committee to suggest any improvements. The latter had reference more especially to a proposal emanating from Mr. Charles Pearson himself. That gentleman had come to the conclusion that the ordinary and hackneyed methods of treatment were practically inefficacious, and that a new system of prison discipline should be introduced. His plan was to devote the whole labour of prisoners sentenced to any term between three months and four years to agriculture. District prisons were to be established for this purpose, each of which would be in the heart of a farm of a thousand acres. The prisoners were to cultivate the land and raise sufficient produce for their own support. Mr. Pearson backed up his recommendations by many sound arguments. Field labour, he urged, and with reason, was a very suitable employment; healthful, easily learnt, and well adapted to the circumstances of unskilled labourers. Such excellent returns might be counted upon, that a margin of profit would be left after the cost of the prisons had been defrayed. The scheme was no doubt fascinating, and in many respects feasible; but Mr. Pearson overlooked some points in which a more practical mind would have foreseen difficulty, and perhaps forecasted failure. In his proposal he dwelt much upon the humanizing effects of healthful open-air toil, anticipating the best results from a system which made earnings, and indeed release, dependent upon the amount of work done. That industry might thus be stimulated and encouraged was probable enough, and later experience has fully proved the advantage of a judicious system of gratuities for labour; but Mr. Pearson hardly considered the converse sufficiently, and omitted the fact that he might have to deal with that persistent idleness which is not an unknown characteristic of the criminal class. The hope of reward might do much, but no system of penal discipline is complete unless it can also count upon the fear of punishment. Mr. Pearson seems to have taken for granted that all prisoners would behave well in his district prisons. On that account he made no provision to insure safe custody, thinking perhaps that prisoners so well disposed would cheerfully remain in gaol of their own accord. But an open farm of a thousand acres would have offered abundant chances of escape, which some at least would have attempted, probably with success. The creation of an expensive staff for supervision, or the still more costly process of walling in the whole farm, would have greatly added to the charges of these establishments.
I have lingered too long perhaps over Mr. Pearson’s proposal, but some reference was indispensable to a scheme which marked the growth of public interest in prison affairs, and which was the germ of the new system since admirably developed in the convict prisons of this country. Mr. Pearson and the committee of 1850 have the more claim on our consideration, because, in the inquiry which followed, attention was again attracted to Newgate. The condition of that prison in 1850 may be gathered from the pages of the report. Not much had been done to remedy the old defects; radical improvement was generally considered impossible. The great evil, however, had been sensibly diminished. There was no longer, or at worst but rarely, and for short periods, the same overcrowding. This was obviated by the frequent sessions of the Central Criminal Court, and the utilization of the two subsidiary prisons in Giltspur Street and Southwark. The prison population of Newgate was still subject to great fluctuations, but it seldom rose above two hundred and fifty or three hundred at the most crowded periods, or just before the sessional gaol delivery; and at its lowest it fell sometimes to fifty or sixty. These numbers would have still further decreased, and the gaol would have been almost empty, but for the misdemeanants who were still sent to Newgate at times on long terms of imprisonment, and for the transports, whom the Home Office were often, as of old, slow to remove. The old wards, day rooms and sleeping rooms combined, of which the reader has already heard so much, now seldom contained more than ten or a dozen each. Some sort of decorum was maintained among the occupants in the day-time. Drinking and gaming, the indiscriminate visitation of friends, and the almost unlimited admission of extra food, these more glaring defects had disappeared.
But reformation was only skin deep. Below the surface many of the old evils still rankled. There was as yet no control over the prisoners after locking-up time; this occurred in summer at eight, but in the winter months it took place at dusk, and was often as early as four or five. The prisoners were still left to themselves till next morning’s unlocking, and they spent some fourteen or fifteen hours in total darkness, and almost without check or control. Captain Williams, who was the inspector of prisons for the home district in succession to Messrs. Crawford and Russell, stated in evidence that he was visiting Newgate one night, when he heard a great disturbance in one of the day and sleeping rooms, and on entering it found the prisoners engaged in kicking bundles of wood from one end of the ward to the other. Some attempt at supervision was exercised by the night watchman stationed on the leads, who might hear what went on inside. If any disturbance reached his ears, he reported the case to the governor, who next morning visited the ward in fault, and asked for the culprit. The enforcement of discipline depended upon the want of honour among thieves. Unless the guilty prisoner was given up, the whole ward was punished, either by the exclusion of visitors or the deprivation of fire, sharp tests which generally broke down the fidelity of the inmates of the ward to one another. Later on a more efficacious but still imperfect method of supervision was introduced. Iron cages, which are still to be seen in Newgate, were constructed on the landings, ensconced in which warders spent the night, on duty, and alert to watch the sleepers below, and check by remonstrance or threat of punishment all who broke the peace of the prison.
These disciplinary improvements were, however, only slowly and gradually introduced. Other changes affecting the condition and proper treatment of prisoners were not made until the inspector had urged and recommended them. Thus the wards, which, as I have said, were left in complete darkness, were now to be lighted with gas; and after this most salutary addition, the personal superintendence of night officers, as already described, became possible. The rule became general as regards the prison dress; hitherto clothing had been issued only to such as were destitute or in rags, and all classes of prisoners, those for trial, and those sentenced for short terms or long, wore no distinguishing costume, although its use was admitted, not only for cleanliness, but as a badge of condition, and a security against escape. Renewed recommendations to provide employment resulted in the provision of a certain amount of oakum for picking, and one or two men were allowed to mend clothes and make shoes. The rules made by the Secretary of State were hung up in conspicuous parts of the prison; more officers were appointed, as the time of so many of those already on the staff was monopolized by attendance at the Central Criminal Court. Another custom which had led to disorder was abolished; prisoners who had been acquitted were not permitted to return to the prison to show their joy and receive the congratulations of their unfortunate fellows. The Corporation seems to have introduced these salutary changes without hesitation. It was less prompt apparently in dealing with structural alterations and improvements. Well-founded complaints had been made of the want of heating appliances in the gaol. The wards had open fires, but the separate cells were not warmed at all. A scheme for heating the whole prison with hot-water pipes, after the system now generally adopted elsewhere, was considered, and abandoned because of the expense.
As to the entire reconstruction of Newgate, nothing had been done as yet. This, with a scheme for limiting the gaol to untried prisoners, had been urgently recommended by Lord John Russell in 1830. His letter to the Corporation, under date 4th June, is an interesting document, and shows that even at that date the Government contemplated the erection of a model prison. Lord John Russell, commenting upon the offer of the Corporation to improve Newgate, provided it was henceforth used only for untried prisoners, suggested that Newgate should be entirely reconstructed, and the new building adopted as a model. The Corporation had agreed to spend £20,000 on alterations, but £60,000 would suffice to reconstruct. Lord John, with great fairness, admitted that the whole of this burthen could not be imposed upon the city, seeing that since the establishment of the Central Criminal Court, Newgate received prisoners for trial from several counties, and he was therefore prepared to submit to Parliament a proposal that half the cost of reconstruction should be borne by public funds. He forwarded plans prepared by the inspectors of prisons, not for blind adoption, but as a guide. This plan was on the principle of cellular separation, a system, according to Lord John Russell, desirable in all prisons, “but in a metropolitan prison absolutely essential.” The Corporation in reply demurred rather to accepting strict separation as a rule, feeling that it approached too nearly to solitary confinement. The court was, however, prepared to consider Lord John Russell’s proposal with regard to the cost of rebuilding; but as the plan was “confessedly experimental, for the benefit of the country generally, the amount for which the city should be responsible should be distinctly limited not to exceed a certain sum to be agreed upon.” A proviso was also made that the magistrates should continue to exercise full control over the new gaol, “free from any other interference than that of the inspectors on the part of Government.”
No doubt wiser counsels prevailed with Lord John Russell, and on a more mature consideration he realized that the limited area of the existing Newgate site, and the costliness of enlarging it, forbade all idea of entirely reconstructing the gaol so as to constitute it a model prison. It would be far better to begin at the beginning, to select a sufficiently spacious piece of ground, and erect a prison which from foundations to roofs should be in conformity with the newest ideas.