Recollections of Windsor Prison; / Containing Sketches of its History and Discipline, with Appropriate Strictures and Moral and Religious Reflection

by of Vermont John Reynolds

Fane was an Irish youth of about twenty, and had no relatives, acquaintances, or friends in this country. For some petty crime he was sent to the prison for three years. He was of a sprightly but harmless turn of mind, and he did not at all times keep a prudent check upon his vivacity; which was the cause of his suffering now and then the lashes of that authority, which, always frowning itself, could not endure the sight of a smile. But the greatest difficulty was, he could not perform so much labor as was required of him, and what he did perform was not always so good as was expected by his rulers. Why it should be thought a crime for a man not to learn a trade, so as to do a full day's work at it, in the brief space of three months, I am unable to say; and why any one should expect from a learner the perfection of a master, is equally strange. But none of these considerations entered into the purposes of his superiors, and he was consequently in perpetual punishment, either in the solitary cell, or in carrying round the yard and shop a large block of wood chained to his ancle.

In one or the other of these states of suffering, Fane spent much of the short time of life allotted to him after he entered the prison. About the time of his bloody catastrophe, he was associated with Plumley and two brothers by the name of Higgins, who were quite as much under the frown of authority as himself; and at this time they were all in chains, but compelled to do their daily task on the loom. Spending their nights in the same room, and being equally rash and reckless, they formed a resolution to attempt an escape by forcing their way, by means of some planks and a ladder, over the wall. This was to be done early in the morning, as soon as they were let out of the room. A more foolish plan could not have been laid, for, with the means they used, no one could have made his way over the high walls of the prison. Such, however, was their plan, and each one having his particular part assigned him, they were determined to try to effect their escape.

To this rash act, the injustice and inhumanity of their sufferings, no doubt prompted them; and it is a truth which will one day be made manifest, that most of the enormities committed by prisoners, have sprung from the same source. Should prisoners be treated with proper tenderness, instead of being tortured as they are, thirty reformations would take place where one does not now. I speak this from observation and experience; and I am constrained to add, that many of the keepers are as far from amiable and virtuous principles, and from morality of conduct, as the prisoners. I allude not to the keepers as a body, for I am happy to know that there are some of them, who are, in every sense of the terms, benevolent, upright and gentlemanly. These condemn the conduct of the others as severely as I can, and they ought to be respected as redeeming spirits amidst the fallen and depraved ones with whom they are under the necessity of associating. Their number, however, is comparatively small, and they do not generally stay long.

Before Fane and his party could make their rash attempt, they were under the necessity of delivering themselves from their chains, which was an easy task. While they were doing this in their room, the night before the time fixed upon to escape, they made some noise with their file, which drew some of the keepers to the window of their room to listen. By this means they learned the whole plan—heard them talk it over—knew it was to be the next morning as soon as the doors were opened—knew all the steps in contemplation—knew that they had freed themselves from their chains, and were in perfect readiness for the morning. All this was known to the authority of the prison the night before, as I was often told by several of the keepers, and particularly by the deputy keeper, with whom I conversed freely and fully on the subject.

And here I should like to submit the question, whether, with this knowledge in his possession, the Warden acted right in letting these four men out of their room? Ought he not to have kept them in till the other prisoners had got to their work, and then told them that their plan was known, and that it was too late to make the attempt? Had he done this, he would have been commended, and one of the most unhappy events would have been prevented. If it is a true principle of law, that he, who not only does not prevent, but virtually affords facilities for the commission of a crime, is in some degree guilty of that crime, then I will leave the Warden of the prison to answer for the death of Fane.

In the morning, they were let out, and they went forward like madmen to their fatal project. A lad of about seventeen was on the wall as guard. Prepared for the event, he watched them as they advanced with their plank, and placed it against the wall, but made no attempt to fire. The first that went up were the Higginses and Plumley; Fane was in another part of the yard after a small ladder, which he broke in removing it from its place. Finding that the ladder was broken, and that their other means were insufficient, they retired from the wall, abandoned the attempt, and went behind the chapel. No shot was discharged at either of them; but when Fane, who had not yet been at the wall, ran up that way, before he got within three rods of it, the guard levelled his musket at his head, as deliberately as if he were going to shoot at game, and dropped him lifeless on the ground. The ball passed through his temple, and a buck shot through his cheek; the blood gushed out of his head in a large stream, and ran down on the ground nearly a rod.

It has always appeared strange to me, that the guard did not fire on one of the others, but reserved his death-shot for Fane. He was asked this question once, and also why he fired at all, and his answer was, that Fane was throwing stones at him, one of which, he said, hit him on the cheek. This however, was not true: I saw Fane from the time he came out of his room till he fell dead, and I saw him throw nothing. Indeed he could not have thrown any thing, for as he lay in death, he had firmly clenched in one hand, the chain which he had cut from his leg, and in the other, the knife which he had used as a saw in cutting it. These I saw in his hands the minute he fell, and I know that, with them, he could not have thrown a stone or any thing else.

But if Fane's throwing a stone at him was crime enough to deserve death, why did he not deal out the same punishment to Higgins? He had the same provocation from him that he pretended to have had from Fane, for Higgins threw a club at him, after he had shot his friend, which, if it had hit him, would have killed him; but he sent no shot at him. The fact is, Fane was an Irishman, and there was no friend to look after him, but the others had relatives near; and if it was determined that one of them should be killed to impress a dread on the rest, Fane was the pre-determined victim. I do not say that such was the case, but if it was not, I should like to know why they were let out of the room, when their plot was so well known? and, also, why Fane, who was the least outrageous of the four, should have been shot, and no attempt made on any of the others?

After he had committed this bloody crime, the guard began to be alarmed, and thought of going off. That his conscience thundered, I have no doubt; and that the sentiment of guilt which pierced his soul, should array the gallows before him, was what might have been expected. He was, however, consoled by his superiors, and the coroner's verdict, that Fane came to his death in consequence of the guard's doing his duty, calmed him completely, in respect to his legal apprehensions.

I have no disposition to censure the verdict of the jury of inquest; they no doubt acted conscientiously. Still, I doubt very much whether it was the duty of the guard to kill Patrick Fane. If it was, on what account? Was there any danger of his escaping? No; this was not pretended. Was the guard in any danger of personal violence? No. The story of stones being thrown at him is destitute of all proof but the guard's own assertion, and is confuted by a hundred eye witnesses. What, then, rendered it his duty to kill his prisoner? It was not his duty; neither the law nor the facts in the case made it so; and a justification of that deathly act, can be found in no established principle of jurisprudence, or of moral conduct. If he had fired towards him merely to alarm him, or if he had wounded him slightly in his legs, he might have been excused; but to deal in death at once, and that without any just cause, is a crime for which we shall seek in vain for either excuse or extenuation.