Six Years in the Prisons of England

by Unknown

CHAPTER XIII.

THE ACT OF 1864—CLASSIFICATION OF PRISONERS—THE MARK SYSTEM: ITS DEFECTS—THE TRUE CRIMINAL LAW OF RESTITUTION—THE ONLY METHOD BY WHICH CONFIRMED CRIMINALS MAY BE RECLAIMED—WORKHOUSES.

The year 1864 was a marked epoch in convict life. A new Act was then passed and fresh prison regulations were brought into force. This Act contained one good clause, viz., the abolition of three and four years' sentences. In one year as many as 1800 men were sentenced to three and four years' penal servitude, being a large proportion of the total number. Such men are now for the most part sentenced to eighteen months and two years' imprisonment, which will account for a decrease in the number of convicts and an increase in the number of county prisoners. This is a short step in the right direction. The convict directors take credit to themselves for this reduction in the number of convicts, and boast that they have at last found the true panacea for criminal diseases. A report to that effect, cut out of a newspaper, was circulated amongst the prisoners, and their indignation was great at the way in which the public were "gulled" about themselves and prison treatment. No doubt a few more thieves and burglars are driven to pursue their callings in France and America by the operation of the new police regulations, and I freely admit that a few more may annually be sent into another world by the same means, but no one can yet point to a reformed professional "Cracksman," "Coiner," "Hoister," or "Screwsman," as proof of the beneficial results of the change. The most unpopular clause in the Act was that relating to police surveillance. The majority of the prisoners were very much annoyed at this regulation, some of them, indeed, would much rather have remained in prison than encounter it. For my own part, I approve of the principle of surveillance. I see in it the germ of a system whereby a large class of criminals may ultimately be punished entirely outside the prison walls. I object, however, to the police being entrusted with the duty. Their proper business is to catch the thief and preserve order. The surveillance of liberated prisoners ought to be entrusted to those who are directly interested in empty jails, and who would endeavour to assist the liberated men either in getting employment or to emigrate.

With reference to the classification of prisoners which commenced under the Act of 1864, I have no hesitation in saying that it is a gross fraud upon the public, a delusion and a snare. The error which I pointed out in a former chapter, as being committed in the selection of convicts for transportation, is here repeated and in a more aggravated form, if that were possible. By the new Act the prisoners were divided into four great classes. Into the fourth, or "probation class," all prisoners were required to enter on being admitted into prison. After a certain time, if the prisoner was so fortunate as to escape being "reported" for any offence against the prison rules, he would be placed in the third class, and again, after being a certain time in the third class he was passed, subject to the same condition, into the second, and so on. Should he have made any mistake and allowed himself to get "reported," he either missed his chance of getting into the higher, or was degraded into a lower class. The object of this classification no doubt was to get all the well-behaved men together, but the blunder committed was in making obedience to the prison rules the only test of qualification for the higher classes. This, as I have already explained, was really worse than no test at all, because the frequently convicted criminal, who was thoroughly posted up in all points of prison discipline and regulations, was more likely than the novice to escape being "reported" for violation of them. The consequence is, that in respect of character, disposition and moral quality, there is really no difference to be found amongst the men in any of the classes. The scheme operates in this way—suppose that a clergyman by some mischance gets sentenced to penal servitude, and enters the prison in company with one of the very worst villains that could be selected out of our criminal population; both these men, the one with a first sentence, the other with a long string of convictions against him, enter the "probation class" at Millbank, on precisely the same terms. The "jail bird," knowing all about the ways of the prison, would probably pass with ease into the third class. The clergyman, being new to the discipline, might make a mistake and get "reported," and in that way would not be so likely to reach the third class so soon as the other; but granting that he did so they would still be together, the man inured to guilt and crime would still be beside the new and casual lodger, the man who had never been in prison before would still have the opportunity of learning the evil ways of the confirmed rogue. Again, should the clergyman be fortunate enough in passing into the higher classes at the usual time, the jail bird would certainly not be behind.

If a thousand prisoners, from all parts of the country, of all ages, habits, and antecedents, were brought to one of our convict establishments, they would go through their time in the same way, good, bad, and indifferent, all together. The clergyman, even if he were to get into prison innocently, and were the best Christian in the world, would never get rid of the jail-bird; and in the highest class his companions would be no better than those in the lowest.

I grant that our directors could not classify convicts according to their real merits, any more than a quack doctor could classify patients suffering from disease; but although they cannot have the knowledge necessary to do it properly, they might do a little in the right direction. The quack, even, would know cholic from consumption, diarrhæa from dropsy; so any man of sense would be able to distinguish between a case of chronic moral disease and a case of partial or temporary paralysis of the moral faculty!

The system of "marks," as it is called in prison, is the most prominent feature in the new regulations, and is based upon the same absurd principle as the classification clause. The rule relating to marks specifies "That the time which every convict under sentence of penal servitude must henceforth pass in prison will be regulated by a certain number of marks, which he must earn by actual labour performed before he can be discharged."

The method adopted is to debit the prisoner with a certain number of marks, according to the length of his sentence, and if he performs the whole of the work required of him he is credited with as many marks as would represent a fourth part of his sentence.

If this law were carried out in its integrity it would be most cruel and unjust. Fortunately for the prisoners it is not very strictly adhered to—at least not at the prison where I was confined—the officers making allowance for the prisoners' infirmities. To show how it would operate, let us take the case of the clergyman and the jail-bird once more. Assuming that the former was a stout and healthy man, and able to work, but not having been accustomed to it, really not able to do much of it, and that the latter had been at the work for years—which would win in the race for liberty, if the law was strictly enforced? The probability is that the clergyman would not earn a single day's remission, whilst the jail-bird would get one-fourth of his time remitted; and assuming that both had the same sentence originally, would go a considerable way into a "fresh bit" before the poor clergyman had finished his first sentence.

The "mark" system admits of great cruelty being practised, but on the whole, as it is carried out, it is a more innocent piece of deception than the classification. At the public works, however, there is much injustice done by it, no allowance being made for a sick man, unless he has met with some accident. If the "marks" were money, bonâ fide sovereigns, and if the prisoner were permitted to exercise the abilities God has given him in order to earn that money, there might be some sense and justice discernable in the system. As it is there is neither.