CHAPTER XXV
1868–1870. PORTSMOUTH
Duties—Geology—Societies formed—Portland prison—Parkhurst—Garrison prisons—Gymnastics—Arrival of 33rd and 101st Regiments—Man of 3rd Light Dragoons—Sale of decorations—Illness—Discharging soldiers—Comments.
Appointed to the Southern District,[269] the duties connected with departmental administration were entered upon without delay. Within the garrison of Portsmouth, headquarters of the district, they included work relating to embarking and disembarking troops, in addition to ordinary routine; through the district, inspections of military establishments and places with which I was already familiar.
In visiting establishments on the Isle of Wight some pleasant excursions were taken in company with a kindred spirit[270] in regard to natural things. With geological map in hand,[271] we walked from point to point comparing the strata as we proceeded with the several illustrative sketches there presented. So also official visits to the Isle of Portland gave opportunity of studying the history presented by its rocks and strata, with regard to its alternating elevations and submergences in geological periods. The operations in progress at Spithead in connection with forts intended to be built there supplied with ample material in different shapes those among us whose tastes led us to take interest in them.
Among our numbers were several men devoted to different branches of natural history; others whose tastes and pursuits were in more purely professional subjects. By means of a happy combination between the two a society[272] was set on foot, a room with fuel and light assigned to its use by the War Office, and an excellent library collected. Papers were read at its meetings, abstracts being published in the London professional journals. So great was the success which attended our efforts that a society of allied kind was established by scientific and professional residents of Portsmouth and its vicinity.
The then governor of Portland convict prison had previously held a similar position at Norfolk Island, to which at that time the worst and most desperate criminals were sent from New South Wales. The men he had there to deal with were the most desperate and reckless of their class; but some of the accounts Mr. Clifton gave regarding his method towards them were most interesting, some even pathetic, the keynote of his system having been, on suitable occasions, to appeal to their human nature. With evident gusto we were invited to enter what he called his museum of implements with which from time to time attempts on his life had been made by convicts under his charge; and very miscellaneous were they as they lay upon their shelves, duly labelled and arranged. Among the convicts were some who had in their day occupied high social position, one of them in particular. Passing them as we did, our gaze was averted as we did so, but it was not in us to withhold from them a thought of pity.
At Parkhurst the “governor” of the convict prison was a lady, the convicts being women. It was the boast of Mrs. Gibson that, in maintaining discipline and administering justice for offences, no barrier of any kind separated her from the offender brought before her, and yet, unlike the experience already mentioned, with the exception of one occasion, violence had never been offered her. “Unless,” said she, “I have sufficient moral power to maintain order, my influence would be gone.” Her daughter had been carefully tended from infancy to womanhood by a life convict. But among her prisoners were some whose disposition was most desperate; there were others who, when they “felt a fit of passion coming on,” made request to their “governor” that, as a favour, she would allow them to “go to the pump,” so that by the violent exertion there required of them they might “work it off.” A short time previous there had been under her charge as life convict a young lady, the story of whose “crime” and conviction occupied public attention to a more than usual degree, the question of her guilt being no less discussed than were the circumstances under which her confession had been obtained, the reality of that confession, and the relation of “confessors” to the individual on the one hand, and to law on the other.
The periodical inspection of Garrison prisoners came within the ordinary routine of duty. As a matter of information, inquiries on such occasions were directed to the effect, if any, of punishments undergone by soldiers in deterring them from subsequent crime, the usual reply received being that “the same men come here over and over again.” Past experience in regiments had been to the same effect in regard to offences, and to a considerable extent also to men coming “on the sick report” to hospital, the numbers of the latter depending greatly upon the kind of duty, parades, drills, and so on, that was about to take place. Regimental surgeons understood all such moves on the part of the men, and for the most part were able to estimate at its approximate value the statements made by individuals.
While visiting a military gymnasium, attention was drawn to performances by the non-commissioned officer in charge, a noted gymnast, some of whose feats on the trapeze and otherwise were remarkable as showing high proficiency in his art. At the time of their performance his appearance indicated advanced phthisis, and within a month thereafter he succumbed to that condition. Other instances more or less similar to his have come under notice, indicating that the ability to perform feats of “strength” and agility is not a constant indication of robust health, although it may be of “knack” acquired by practice.