Copyright by S. G. Payne & Son, Aylesbury.
AYLESBURY PRISON,
Where Mrs. Maybrick was confined from 1896 to 1904.
New Insignia of Shame
We were objects of morbid curiosity to the idle and curious people, who may or may not have felt sorry for us. But to be stared at was most distressing to all, to the first offender in particular. If the public but realized how prisoners suffer when their disgrace is thus brought to the public notice, they might feel ashamed of their lack of ordinary human consideration and pass on. But why should it be necessary at all to subject a prisoner to such humiliation and degradation? Male as well as female prisoners could be transferred from one prison to another without attracting any notice in the street or at the station, if they were provided with garments for traveling upon which the hideous brand of shame—the “broad arrow”—is not stamped. It is this mark of condemnation which attracts the morbid curiosity of the people. Such exhibitions and the callous disregard of a prisoner’s feelings can only harden and embitter the heart and lower his or her self-respect.
Arrival at Aylesbury Prison
After a journey of nearly five hours we arrived at Aylesbury Station. The public were apparently aware that the first batch of convicts was to be transferred that day, as there were crowds at all the stations at which we stopped. When we got out at Aylesbury it was with difficulty that a passage was made for us. The prison-vans were in readiness, and we were rapidly driven away. I felt weak and faint and cold. A thick fog enveloped the town, and I could see only the dim outlines of houses appearing and disappearing as we passed along. We stopped before what appeared a gigantic structure, and then drove through two large iron gates into a small courtyard. There we descended and drew up in line to be counted by the officer, while our numbers and names were given to the governor, who stood waiting to receive us. The order “Pass on!” was called by the matron in charge, whereupon we entered a long, dark, gloomy passage, at the end of which was a strong, barred door. This was unlocked, and, when we had passed in, relocked.
I have already described what a prison is like. Again we stood in line. Then a male warder came forward. He unlocked my handcuffs and unclasped the chain which bound me to my fellow convicts. With a clang that echoed through the empty halls they fell together to the ground. My wrists were bruised and sore from the long pressure of their combined weight.
Presently the order “Pass on!” was repeated, and, led by a female warder, we went up two flights of the iron stairway to the top ward of the hall. Each prisoner was then in turn locked into a cell. Thus ended my second journey as a prisoner. The contrast with former journeys in my life drew bitter tears from my eyes.
During the remainder of the week daily batches of prisoners continued to arrive, and on the sixth day all had been duly transferred from Woking Prison, which was then turned into military barracks.