The infirmary stands a little detached from the prison grounds. It has several wards, containing from six to fifteen beds, and several cells for cases that require isolation. The beds are placed on each side of the room, and are covered with blue and white counterpanes. At the head of each is a shelf, on which stand two cups, a plate, and a diet card. In the middle of each room is a long deal table. On the walls are a few old Scriptural pictures.
The Utter Desolation of a Sick Prisoner
When a prisoner is admitted she is first weighed and then allotted a bed. Her food and medicine are given her by an officer, who places it on a chair at her bedside if she is too ill to sit at the table. The doctor makes his rounds in the morning and evening, and if the patient is seriously ill he may make a visit in the night also. The matron in charge goes through the wards at stated times to see that all is going well, but there is no nursing. The prisoner must attend to her own wants, and if too weak to do so, she must depend upon some other patient less ill than herself to assist her. To be sick in prison is a terrible experience. I felt acutely the contrast between former illnesses at home and the desolation and the indifference of the treatment under conditions afforded by a prison infirmary. To lie all day and night, perhaps day after day, and week after week, alone and in silence, without the touch of a friendly hand, the sound of a friendly voice, or a single expression of sympathy or interest! The misery and desolation of it all can not be described. It must be experienced. I arrived at Woking ill, and I left Woking ill.
CHAPTER SIX
At Aylesbury Prison
Removal from Woking
I had been admitted to the infirmary suffering from a feverish cold. I had been in bed a fortnight and was feeling very weak, when, on the morning of November 4, 1896, I awoke to find the matron standing at my bedside. “Maybrick,” she said, “the governor has given orders that you are to be removed to-day to Aylesbury Prison. Get up at once.” Without a word of explanation she left. I had become a living rule of obedience, and so with trembling hands dressed myself. Presently I heard footsteps approaching. A female warder entered with a long, dark cloak covered with broad arrows, the insignia of the convict. I was told to put on this garment of shame. Then, supported by the warder, I crossed the big yard to the chief matron’s office. There other women of the “Star Class” were waiting, handcuffed. A male warder stepped forward and told me to hold out my hands, whereupon he fastened on a pair of handcuffs and chained me to the rest of the gang. This was done by means of a chain which ran through an outer ring attached to each pair of handcuffs, thus uniting ten women in a literal chain-gang. This was to me the last straw of degradation—the parting indignity of hateful Woking; but, happily, this was a painful prelude to a more merciful régime at Aylesbury.
Some of the women were weeping, some swearing. When all were ready the prison-van drove into the yard and we filed out to the clanking of our chains. Then the door was shut and we were driven off. A special train was waiting at the station, and escorted between male warders we got in. It was bitterly cold and raining heavily, but crowds lined the road and platforms.
