Known to the Police

by Thomas Holmes

Weakness, then, not wickedness, is the great characteristic of what are termed "the criminal classes." Who can rescue them? Who can reform them? No one, unless they can infuse into their very bones, blood, and marrow the essence of vigour and the germ of self-reliance. Prisoners' Aid Societies are powerless with them. Church Army and Salvation Army and all the Labour Homes combined can do nothing with them or for them; for prison life is easier than wood-chopping, and the comforts of prison are superior to those of a Labour Home. The Borstal system is good, so far as it goes, but it does not go half far enough; it is not vigorous enough. Possibly, if these young men were detained three times as long as they are at present, and given three times the amount of work they have to do at the present time, with the rough up-to-date technical training, many of them would profit; but I am certain that no half-measures can be effectual with the large army of young prisoners who have either acquired or inherited the love of an idle and irresponsible life.

I was speaking a short time ago to a young man whom I knew had been several times in prison, and asked him: "What are you in for this time?" "For making a false attestation," was his reply. He had tried to enlist under false pretences. But he is now in the army, for I have received letters from him. Three other young fellows whom I had met in prison when at liberty consulted me about joining the army. I warned them of the risk, and told them they would have to tell lies. Nevertheless, they are now in the army. Why there should be any difficulty about such fellows joining the army I don't understand. They are animals, and they can fight! If their teeth are not good, what does it matter? They are not now required to bite cartridges. They can be taught to discharge rifles, and a bullet from one of their rifles may prove as deadly as a bullet from the rifle of a better man. "The character of the army must be maintained." By all means keep up the character of the army. Some people are advocating conscription. Well, here is a chance. Form a regiment, or two regiments, of young men who have been three times in prison. Give them ten years of thorough discipline and sound manual and technical training. Under discipline they will be obedient, and at the worst they will be as good men as those that manned Nelson's ships, and would prove quite as good as those that fought at Waterloo, or captured India for the East India Company.

I am no advocate of war, but I am afraid that the prospect of universal peace is remote. Devoutly I wish that it was close at hand. We must look at things as they are. Let me state the case: Here are thousands of young men who have no settled places of abode, no technical skill, no great physical strength, no capabilities, and no desire for continuous honest labour. No one can provide them with employment. There is no place for them in industrial life. They are content to spend their lives in cheap lodging-houses or in prison. They beg or they steal when at liberty. Occasionally they do a little work, when that work does not require much strength or brains. They graduate in idleness and crime; they become habituated to prison, and finally they become hopeless criminals. Large sums of money are expended in a vain endeavour to reform them; larger sums still are expended in maintaining public institutions that we call prisons, in which they are kept for a short period, and in which they are submitted to lives of semi-idleness. Large numbers of warders are maintained to look after them when in prison; large numbers of police are required to look after them when they are at liberty. Innocent people suffer through their depredations; innocent people, honest and hardworking people, have to keep them when they are submitted to the comparatively comfortable life of prison. They become fathers of children, and future generations will be compelled to bear heavy burdens because of them.

Many of them, when young, join local regiments of militia. Once a year they are called up for training, but their few weeks of training soon pass, after which they hark back to lodging-houses or prisons.

They get some liking for a soldier's life; but if they have been in prison, there is no honest place for them in the army. They are not good enough to be shot at! They are not good enough to shoot at others! It would appear that a large amount of moral excellence is required before a man can be allowed to be the recipient of a bullet, or before he can receive a State licence to kill.

I am persuaded that nothing but a long period of strict discipline will avail the mass of young men who constantly find their way into prison. At present prison discipline is too short to be effectual, too deadening to be useful, too monotonous to be elevating. Compulsory discipline, with a fair degree of liberty, a reasonable remuneration for their services, and a lengthened training, are the only things that are at all likely to be effectual with young men who will not, cannot, submit themselves to the higher discipline that is self-imposed.

Failing the army, there is but one alternative—national workshops, with manual and technical training. But that means socialism pure and simple; for if workshops were provided for young criminals, there could be no possible objection against a similar provision for the children of the industrious poor.

The State needs to be careful not to hold out any inducements to youthful criminality, for of a surety it will be a bad day for England when idle and dishonest youth stands a better chance in life than youth that is industrious and honest. Even now certain signs point to danger in that direction.