CHEAP AND REVISED ED/fl
•sj ICT
^'^^fT-OF-l^^'^''
|N : WYMAN & SONS, GREAT QITEEN
XiINGOIiN'S-INK" FIELDS, W.C,
PRICE TWO oniuuiiNoc
BANK. — Cnrrent Acconnts opened accord
other Bankers, and Interest allowed on the minimum mo
rged for beeping Acconnts.
l«o receives money on Deposit at 3i per cent. Interest. repaTabl
Tf Europ^ and elsewhere: A Pamphlet, with lull particulars, on applicat
yhampfoM^Siitl,nnff'y QhSiieeri/ Lune. FRAXCI8 RAVBNSC
Phe Bi^AdU^k B^ildta^ Society's Annual Beceipts exceed PomTJiU
^OMT.tp PUSC^ASE A HOUSE FOR TWO GUqfgXSaPER MO
BtTirm^o"?orTRT/*^^u°° •"'l "» Kent to pay. Apply at tli« <*ce\N^ BIBK
BUlLUliftT hOClKTY^J^Hth»nipton Buildings. Chancery Lane *- ^ ■^•^
'V\^''^,22J^^^M^^ -^ PLOT~0"F LAND FOR five' g'to^GS
■TTT Ai. ^^ "^ - '.SJ2S?^^ pos'ession, either for Building or Oardejufltr iia^lwses
at the Offic. of th» WRKBECK FREEBOLD LAND SOCIETF, So^tSipST Bui
Chancery Lane. A PaiSjjhlet, with full particulars, on application. "«"P»cn nui
. ■ FRANCIS RAVESSC^g^ .lf,»,
EVKRYBOOY HB Off.\ P
WITH THE
MODE
SELF-INKIJfQ
PRINTING PI
. - A>"D
'.^^.^'^mt TO PRI
^ Simpb^ty is its recoi
* d(ti9n^ A Child of IC
can work it.
^ CompUtePritUing-Offie
^£6. fis.
S.LudgateCircusB
LONDON, E.G.
o'^^^i'^^^
Kei«T
KNIFE MACHINES
HAVE NO EQUAL ^
MP ROVE BY USE
LAST A LIFETIME^^#
UftNOOM
MADE IN NIN
FBOH
£H. Us. to
199, HIGH
HARRONS PORTMANTEAUS
The Tourist's Oo-operative Store for the Manu-
factare aud Supply of PORTMANTEAUS, TRUNKS, BAGS, DRESS BASKETS,
aud every Article for Tr^velUug. Wholesale Prices for Casli only, 320, HIGH
HOLBORN (next Southampton BuildingrpJ. See the
One Guinea Real Leather Expanding Railway
PORTMANTEAU, 24 in. long, with outside Straps. Any article forwarded lor
approval on receipt of P.O.O., payable to L. HARKON. Illustrated list free.
FOR OFFICE, &. TRAVELLING
HAR RON'S BAGS
The " KKOCKABOUT " Bag (Registered). This
light, handsome, and roomy Travelling or Hand Bag, so highly commended by the
Editor of "The Sportsman," ifcc, price 10s. (id., can only be obtained direct from
tlie Manufacturer. HAERON, The TOUBKT S CO-OPERATIVE STORE. 320.
HIGH HOLBOR.V.
HARRONS DRESS TRUNKS
Ladies' Dress Trunks. The " Holhorn." 30 in.
long, with three movable Bonnet compartments, price lOs. 6d,, s'trougly recom-
mended by the Editor of the "Queen," and the OSB ORNE DR ESS CASE, with collap-
sible Bonnet divisions, price lOs. 6d., are two of the greatest bargains ever olferea.
Second-Hand Portmanteaus, Bags, etc., can
always be obtained great Pargains at HABEON'S.The TOURIST'S CO-OPER.\TTVE
STOBE,320, HIGH HOLBORN (next Southampton BuildinRs).
<t
\
Ir;
■<i-
*^
^^^
■'^-
OONYICT LIFE.
BY A TICKBT-OF-LEAVE-MAISr.
EEVISED EDITION.
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive
in 2007 witli funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
littp://www.arcliive.org/details/convictlifeorrevOOtickiala
CONYICT LIFE;
OR,
5VELATI0NS CO]!^CEENING CONVICTS AND
CONVICT PEISONS,
BY A TICKET-OF-LEAYE MA^.
LONDON :
WYMAN & SONS, 81, GREAT QUEEN STREET,
LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS, W.C.
1880.
■WTMAN AITD SOWS PRINTBRS,
6BBA.T QUKKK 8TRBET, LINCOLN'S IMM FIBLItS,
LONDON. W.C.
StacK
^nex
-rs
l8:vo
PREFACE TO THE EEVISED EDmON.
I CANNOT allow this work to pass into another
edition without some emendations and apolo-
gies. I acknowledge with sincere gratitude the
consideration and kindness with which influential
journals like the Standard, the Telegraph, the
Daily Neios, the Echo, and almost all the leading
papers in the three kingdoms have commented
upon it. Some few have been hypercritical ; one
or two have been unkind ; but I had counted the
cost, and have not been disappointed in the result.
My position is an assailable one ; I live in a glass
house, and I could not hope that every critic
would be so generous as to neglect the tantalizing
invitation to throw a stone at me, and to taunt
me with my own dereliction of duty.
I exposed myself to this kind of attack. I wrote
the book somewhat hastily ; and, if I had to write
it again, I should write it in a different spirit. I
had been a prisoner for six years, and I came out
6 Convict Life.
angry and indignant at having been compelled to
live for so long a time amidst vile associations.
I forgot for the moment that my work was self-
condemnatory ; that by reckless wickedness I had
consigned myself to " Convict Life." I cannot
help acknowledging after " sober second thought"
that there is less excuse to be made for me than
for many of the vilest men I have described, their
former advantages and my own being taken into
account.
I will not retract what I have said about the
thief class, because it is true. If Society deserves
more blame for their condition than I have
accorded to it, let Society look to the matter.
Society cannot, I fear, reform these men ; but it
can stop the procreation of their species.
With regard to what I have written about
William E-oupell. I think his is an important
instance of the favouritism sometimes shown to
influential prisoners ; but I will state that I have
reason to believe that Roupell, sincerely sorry for
the past, is by an honourable life winning his way
to the respect of the generous and good.
I have in several parts of this book made very
severe attacks upon prison warders. On calm
Preface to the Revised Edition.
reflection I see that I was, perhaps, too wholesale V
in my condemnation. I desire to state distinctly
that a large number of the officers in the Convict
service are conscientious and honourable men, who
do their duty to the best of their ability, and live
on their salaries alone. When, however, I stated
at page 81 that every second man had his price, I
think I was very near the truth ; and about this
corrupt portion of the warders I have nothing to
withdraw, retract, or modify. Much that I have
said on this part of the subject has since been
confirmed by indisputable evidence.
I have admitted — and I deeply regret to have
had to admit — that I availed myself of the offers
of a corrupt warder to serve me at Pentonville.
I have been credibly informed that this man was
afterwards detected in the pursuit of his illicit
trade and punished. The man with the medals,
too, at Portland, of whom I told some " strange
stories," at last laid himself open to such strong
suspicion that he was dismissed the service.
Within the last few months warders have been
convicted for trading with prisoners at Ports-
mouth, Chatham, and Exeter. The most recent-
case occurred in January, 1880 : —
Convict Life.
" John Phillips, employed as an assistant warder in the
local prison, was charged with conveying to a convict forbidden
luxuries such as tobacco, note-paper, envelopes, and, most
coveted of prison delights, some newspapers."
The easy way in which these warders escape
when caught, does not augur well for any diminu-
tion of the evil. The Daily Telegraph, in a leading
article commenting on this case, says : —
" The accused warder expressed himself sorry for what had
occurred — meaning, we may assume, that he was sorry he had
been found out ; and the Court, in spite of the appeal for the
full penalty made by the counsel for the Treasury, fined the
ofiending gaoler twenty pounds, or three months' imprisonment
with hard labour in default. The money was forthcoming,
and, therefore, it may be said that the warder escaped heavy
punishment for a most serious breach of trust. The sentence
was totally inadequate to the offence, and, if repeated, would
be calculated to encourage other warders to take bribes, on the
chance that a protracted course of evil-doing might put them in
possession of a sum of money over and above the legal penalty
of detection."
In the course of the same article the Telegraph
thus refers to the good understanding existing
between these corrupt warders and old thieves,
upon which I have commented : —
" The warders, as we have pointed out, entertain no natural
antipathy towards their charges ; indeed, in the case of
particularly infamous criminals, they indulge in a species of
pride like that felt by the keeper of a menagerie for his wildest
and most carnivorous beasts."
Preface to the Revised Edition. 9
And a description of the convict witness who
appeared against the warder in this Exeter case,
would seem to bear out what I have said about the
necessity of making convict work a little harder : —
'* A stalwart convict, dressed in yellow jacket, knicker-
bockers, blue woollen hose, and stout shoef, with biretta-like
cap cocked jauntily on one side, and swinging along with easy
sti'ides at his fine-weather exercise in the open yard, suggests
most painfully the utter waste of a fine human animal."
The Telegrajyh goes on very sensibly to ob-
serve : —
" The luxuries which, in the majority of cases, convicts
sinned to secure, are what they most hanker for in prison, and
punishment would lose half its pain if they were able to obtain
forbidden pleasures."
At page 54, in speaking of a prisoner who was
in the shoemaker's shop at Dartmoor, who had
requested me to carry a " crooked" message to
his friends, I ought, in justice to myself, to say
that I delivered the message to the Chief of the
Criminal Investigation Department at Whitehall
long before the publication of this book. The
name of the old burglar spoken of at page 53,
who proposed to " operate " at Cambridge on
his release, I handed over, with all I knew about
him, to the police authorities of Cambridge.
10 Convict Life.
In all that I have said about the necessity of a
classification of prisoners, and the importance of
a thorough and searching reform of the Convict
system, I see nothing to modify, and nothing to
withdraw. I have stated the case truly and fairly.
I hear that a book is announced by an estimable
and well-intentioned gentleman, which is to white-
wash the present system. I sincerely hope and
believe, that its author, the Hon. Lewis Wingfield,
will never know any more about the convict
system than he does now, because he can only
become possessed of true knowledge on the
subject by bitter personal experience.
I wrote this book with a sincere desire to tell
the truth, and benefit the public. I wrote it
without any sympathy for lawbreakers as such —
including myself as one of them. I tried to look
at the subject with an impartial eye, and precisely
as I should have viewed it in the days of my
innocence, but with all the knowledge of the real
facts which had been gained by experience.
That either this book, or something else, has
aroused in the minds of the authorities a suspicion
that " there is something rotten in the state of
Denmark," cannot be doubted, for since its
Preface to the Revised Edition. 11
appearance governors have been transferred from
place to place, in some cases very much against
their inclination ; orders have flown from prison
to prison, and changes have been made in the
administration of the system. It remains, how-
ever, for Mr. Ceoss, or his successor, to strike at
the root of the evils I have exposed.
PEEFACE TO THE EIEST EDITION.
It is hoped that these pages may be read
with interest, not only as a truthful record
of Convict Life, but also as a contribution
towards Convict-Prison Reform. The writer
has at least one qualification entitling him to
express an opinion on this important subject:
he writes — alas ! — from personal experience.
Many names which would have added confir-
mation to the facts recited, have for obvious
reasons been omitted.
London, ZOth September, 1879.,
-.w
CONTENTS.
Chapter ' Pagk
I. — Introductory 15
II. — Crime and Criminals 22
III. — Convict Labour and Convict Association - 45
IV. — Prison Life — Convicts and their Guardians 80
V. — Convicts and their Guardians (continued) - 98
VI. — Convicts and their Guardians : Prison Pun-
ishments, &c. 122
VII. — Reformatory and Sanatory - - - 163
VIII. — Report of the Commission - - - - 199
IX. — Suggestions and Summary - - . . 235
Postscript 245
CONYICT LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
INTEODUCTORT.
I'N the following pages I intend to expose
some of tlie evils connected with the English
convict system, and in the interests of society to
suggest some remedies. I must be very candid
at the outset and confess that all the knowledge
I possess on this subject has been gained by a
sad and bitter experience. After living up to
middle life in the character of a gentleman, and
with the reputation of an honourable man, I was
weak enough to allow a terrible domestic afflic-
tion to drive me into dissipation, and the end of
my madness was the committal oE an act for
which the law claimed me as its victim. An
English judge, who has since gone to that
bourn from which not even judges return,
thought it to be his duty, for the sake of
16 Convict Life.
example, to send a man of some respectability
and education, and who liad never before
darkened the doors of a police-court, to herd
with professional thieves in penal servitude for
seven years.
I will not say that I did not deserve this
sentence, for I look back upon my own mis-
conduct with feelings of shame, horror, and
disgust ; I did deserve severe punishment, but
I feel bound to say, in the interests of
society and the taxpayer, that six months of
solitary confinement, with assiduous labour,
rough food, and a hard bed, would have been
quite as efficacious, and would not have ex-
posed me to the evil influences and vile asso-
ciations which have surrounded me during the
past six years, and which it has required no
small amount of moral courage on my part to
withstand. Not very long ago I was released
upon licence, or what is generally known as a
''ticket of leave.'* I have stated these facts
that my readers may be assured that I know
something of the subject upon which I am
writing. I know that I have degraded myself,
that I have sinned against society, and that
however deep and sincere my repentance, the
Introductory. 17
Pharisees of society will never forgive me. At
the same time I feel that I shall reheve my own
conscience, and make some atonement, if I can
succeed in showing how impotent is the law, as
it at present stands, to reform criminals and
reduce their number.
I may as well say at the outset that in the
complaints I may make of the working of the
present system, and the suggestions I may offer
for its reform, I am actuated by no feelings of
tenderness for that ruffian class, who, because
they ivill drink and will not work, exist from
childhood to old age, by committing outrages upon
their fellow-creatures, and by filching from them
the proceeds of honest labour and enterprise.
I regret to have to acknowledge that in this
evening of the nineteenth Christian century such
a class does exist in England, and that its name
is Legion. I have been brought into close contact
with hundreds of its members during my in-
carceration. They are unanimous in asserting
that " they have never robbed a man of a day's
work by doing one themselves, and that they never
will;" but the i^oceeds of that labour, or any
other property which they can appropriate, either
by sneaking trickery or brutal violence, they look
18 Convict Life.
upon as fair game; and, by some mysterious
delusion which seems to obfuscate their mental
and moral senses, I almost believe that they are
sincere in regarding the law which punishes them
as a persecutor and a tyrant. In speaking of
themselves they invariably claim affiliation with
the working classes, ignoring altogether the self-
evident fact, that the security afforded by the
law to property is more important and necessary
to the working man than to the millionaire.
I think it was Jeremy Bentham who said that
the law does not profess to give men property,
but it gives them a security for the safe-keeping
of their honestly-acquired possessions. "With-
out the law there would be no security for the
acquirements of the enterprising merchant, for
the furniture of the poor man^s cottage, or for the
results of a week of honest toil. Bentham's own
words just occur to me : " Without law there is
no security ; consequently no abundance, nor
even certain subsistence. And the only equality
which can exist in such a condition is the equality
of misery."
I think that miscreants who prefer thieving to
work, and whose consciences are so elastic that
they ** make no bones " about systematically
Introductory. Id
appropriating the results of the industry of
honest men, should not be pampered. I think
they should be made to feel, and to feel acutely,
that *' the way of the transgressor is hard." I
have nothing m common with those who try to
create any sympathy for thieves on account of
the hideous dress they have to wear, or because
their hair is cropped, or their beds hard, or their
beef tough. I have lived among these thieves*^
for six years, and for the future I shall close my
ears to all such claptrap complaints. A man
who lives for no other purpose and with no other
object than to break the laws of his country has
no right to expect " kid-glove treatment,'' and I
do not think should be allowed to revel in the
luxuries which may be obtained at " Blanchard's"
or the " Star and Garter.'*
In the outside world the great object of his life
has been to live without work, and to obtain
dishonestly the means of pampering his appetite.
The professional thief has no higher aspiration
than to gratify his animal nature, and if he could
do this in prison, incarceration would be no
punishment to him. The law acts wisely in de-
priving thieves of alcohol and tobacco, and in
giving them only so much as is necessary of
c 2
20 Convict Life,
coarse and wholesome food ; but it ought to go
further than this, and compel all prisoners to
earn their subsistence, unless they are physically
incapacitated for so doing. They should be
taught the value and the importance of work,
and be allowed by their own industry to pro-
vide a fund with which to begin the world
afresh when they are released. I am very well
aware that there is a very large class of pro-
fessional criminals upon which no system can
hope to work any reform ; and that brings me
to the great and crying evil of the existing
organization, — the indiscriminate association of
prisoners. At present the EngHsh convict
prisons are breeding-dens for the procreation
of professional thieves. A boy who has com-
mitted a drunken assault is placed under the
tuition of the hero of a hundred burglaries.
" Hodge," who during his previous life has
been — in a Carlylean sense — a rehgious man,
and has existed upon the proceeds of "divine
labour," goes to Portland, and is there initiated
into the mysteries of an art which, upon his
release, will enable him to live upon the labour
of others.
A London clerk (perhaps an underpaid one
Introd^tctory. 21
and with a large family) has forgotten for a
moment that "honesty is the best policy."
His associations up to the time of his "lapse"
had been moral and virtuous. In a weak mo-
ment he takes a stray sovereign from the petty-
cash drawer. He is sent to Dartmoor, and
upon his release — thanks to the good fellow-
ship of the men amongst whom the Govern-
ment places him for punishment and reform —
he is able to open a cash-box, and close it
again, without the use of a key. I propose in
the following pages to expose these evils and
to suggest some remedies for them.
22 Convict Life.
CHAPTER 11.
CRIME AND CEIMINALS. '
IT may be interesting to take a rapid glance at
the various classes of criminals with which the
law has to deal. In the front rank there is a
class, happily few in number, who become thieves
from a sheer lack of conscience; men who do
not act under the influence of liquor, and who
are not prompted by the goadings of poverty,
but who, seeing that they can with ease, or by
the use of a little chicanery, possess themselves
of the property of others, allow no feelings
of honour or justice to stand in their way. I
have no doubt that envy is one of the most
powerful incentives to crime with this class.
Fortunate circumstance, or accident, has thrown
them into the society of men whose means are
greater than their own ; they immediately imbibe
a desire to rival their associates in luxury and
display, and, having no moral principles to re-
Grime and Criminals. 23
strain them, do not hesitate to take a short but
crooked cut to wealth.
There have been many examples of this class
in very recent times. Amongst the moat notable
are Redpath, Paul, William Roupell, and the four
Yankees who in 1873 made so formidable a
raid upon the Bank of England. I must admit,
that I can draw no moral distinction between
these men and the midnight burglar. Catherine
Webster certainly adopted a more coarse and
brutal method of obtaining what did not belong
to her ; but, if weighed against one of the dis-
tinguished criminals I have named, the circum-
stances and advantages of each being taken into
account, I am inchned to think that the balance
would be in the woman's favour. The man who
deliberately and in cold blood, and with no ex-
cuse of poverty or temporary distress to urge
him, but merely for the sake of personal aggran-
disement, and to gratify his pride and love of
luxury and display, systematically plots to rob
and defraud others, forfeits, I think, all claim to
mercy on account of his social position, and may
be safely and justly consigned to the same de-
scription of punishment as awaits the highway
robber.
24 Convict Life.
Lower down in the social scale, but standing
morally upon the same platform, is that great
class which seems to increase every year in the
/ same ratio as the population. Stealing is to a
^ very great extent hereditary in England. There
are thousands of thieves to-day whose fathers
and mothers were as familiar with the interior of
half the prisons of England as they are. Many
of them were born in prison ; many more in the
workhouse ; and nearly all of them have, from
their very cradle, lived in an atmosphere of vice.
Whether the law has fulfilled its duty to society
in allowing well-known and habitual criminals to
have charge of their offspring, and to train them
as lawbreakers, is a question I cannot now enter-
tain ; but we all know that it does allow it, and
makes no attempt to interfere, until it is called
upon to punish. A clever professional thief
whom I met at Portland two years ago, and who
hailed from Birmingham, told me that he got his
first lessons in filching from his mother. His
father, he told me, was an " honest working
man," and was porter in a grocery establishment.
This father was always "square," never com-
mitting himself, or falling into the hands of the
police. His mother had made a pair of drawers
Crime and Criminals. 25
wliicli were double, and formed a sort of bag;
into these drawers the father used to drop any
stray tea or coffee with which he came in contact
in the course of his duties, and which he thought
would not be needed by his employer. When, as
often happened, the quantity brought home was
too large for the requirements of the family, it
was disposed of to a neighbouring puhlican in
exchange for a beverage which inspired this honest
working man with courage to obtain fresh sup-
plies. This thief asserted that publicans in a very
poor neighbourhood could generally be trusted,
and were never so inquisitive as other people.
The idea of morality entertained by this class
may be judged of from the fact that this prisoner
used to boast that his father was a very " square"
man; what he meant, of course, was that he
had never been caught. The mother, who was
his tutor, he admitted was crooked, and had been
in prison more than once. When my informant
was a child of five, he would be taken by this
mother to a shoe-shop on a busy Saturday night.
The woman would be difficult to fit, and whilst
the shopman was employed in searching for the
necessary size, the child, who sat upon the floor,
was attaching to some hooks under his mother's
26 Convict Life.
dress two or three pairs of shoes. These acts of
dexterity, which, of course, had been rehearsed
at home, were rewarded by presents of candy
and halfpence, and, in obedience to the in-
flexible law of cause and effect, the son, as he
grew into manhood, became an accomplished
professional thief. My prison experiences have
taught me that this is no solitary case, but merely
an example of every-day life. Many of this
thief-class come into the custody of the police as
mere children ; but they either escape with some
slight punishment, and return to their old haunts,
or, if sent to a reformatory-school, they are
thrown into close association with a few hundred
other young thieves, who, like themselves, have
been spawned upon the dunghills of our great
cities; who have, like themselves, been left by
the Law itself to grow up under the maternal wing
of thieves ; and who have sucked vice into their
^ nature from degraded mothers, whose breasts
have at the same time inoculated their physical
system with poisoned gin.
"With such an education as I have indicated, it
is not very singular that the hereditary English
thief should develop into a villain of the very
deepest dye, which he certainly does.
Crime and Criminals. 27
My sincere conviction, after six years of life
amongst them, is, that as a class, and with very
few exceptions, they are utterly and irreclaimably
lost. They are so vile, and so filthy, that no re- \J
forma tory system under God's sun would have the
slightest chance of inspiring their cursed natures
with one pure thought or one honest aspiration.
I had almost said, it would be a bright day for
England if four or five thousand of the wretches
now confined in convict prisons could be embarked
in the Great Eastern, towed into mid-ocean, and
sunk in its fathomless depths. I have no expecta-
tion that the British Government will adopt this
summary method of disposing of them, and I shall,
therefore, in another chapter suggest some more
tangible scheme which will relieve society of
this intolerable incubus. I hope also by-and-by
to expose some of the tricks and dodges by which
thieves defraud the public. In this place I must
confine myself to a description of their moral
characteristics. They are, in a word, dead to all
sense of shame. They are cowardly brutes, and
their animal instincts have crowded every human
feeling out of their nature. They have all the
same "leary" look, and an unmistakable cunning
stares at you out of every feature. They have
28 Convict Life,
all been educated in Government schools; for,
after emerging from the reformatory, they have
graduated under the aegis of those licensed-dens
of infamy, the public-house and the gin-palace,
from the profits of which England derives so
large a portion of her revenue. I am not a
professed teetotaler, but compulsory association
with the brutes that have been created and
reared under the immediate influence of whisky-
shops, has forced me to the conclusion that
to keep an establishment where liquors are
sold over a bar to be drunk on the premises is
about the meanest thing a man can do in this
world to obtain a living. But to go back to the
character of these professional thieves. They
are entirely destitute of all manliness. They
could no more stand up, self-supported, than
the ivy could rear itself like the oak. They
are equally destitute of natural and acquired
strength. They approach most thoroughly to the
idea of universal and consummate depravity.
They think nothing of passing their lives in
inflicting misery upon their fellow-creatures, and
they do it not only with satisfaction, but with a
hideous rapture. If they can commit robberies
without violence, they only prefer to do so be-
Grime and Criminals. 29
cause they avoid all risk of the " cat," which is
the only thing they fear, and which I think,
therefore, should be liberally administered ; but if
the robbery cannot be effected quietly they do not
scruple to use the knife or the bludgeon, buoying
themselves up with the hope that they will escape
detection, which three times out of four they do.
Their social habits are as filthy inside the prison,
as no doubt they are in the rookeries which they
call their homes. They have a strange disposi-
tion to filthiness and dirt in all senses of the
words, and the hog is a sweeter animal by far.
They have also a penchant for horrible vices,
which I regret to say they get opportunities to
commit, even in what are called " separate
prisons." I am certain that if the sensuality, the
poltroonery, the baseness, the effrontery, the
mendacity, and the barbarity which distinguish
the every-day life of these professional thieves
were depicted in the character of a hero in a
criminal romance it would be set down as a
caricature. I am not exaggerating : I solemnly
declare that whatsoever things are unjust, what-
soever things are filthy, whatsoever things are
hateful and fiendish, if there be any vice and
infamy deeper and more horrible than all other
30 Convict Life.
vice and infamy, it may be found ingrained in
the character of the Enghsh professional thief.
Compared with him GuUiver's " Yahoos " were
cultivated gentlemen.
Whenever these hopefuls are caught and drafted
into a convict prison, they set their cunning to
work to pass what they call an " easy lagging,"
and the truth is, that they get through their
sentences with less than half the difficulty and
less than half the punishment experienced by
green hands such as I was. They become the
tools of the turnkeys, many of whom, I regret to
say, possess no very high principles of morality.
They — these adepts in crime — lend themselves
as tools to the lower class of turnkeys in catching
unawares the amateurs in any breakage of the
prison rules ; in fact, caged and no longer able to
prey upon society out-of-doors, they descend to a
vocation compared with which even the life of a
pickpocket or a pimp is honourable. I have not
quite done with them ; I have to cap the climax.
Add to this glorious assemblage of quahties, a
high profession of contrition and piety whenever
the prison chaplain approaches them ; an anxious
desire — of course to serve some cunning end —
to partake as often as possible of the Sacrament
Crime and Criminals. 31
of the "Lord's Supper;" to be prominent mem-
bers of tbe church choir ; to be loud in their
responses, and to attract the notice of governors
and chaplains by the obtrusive reverence of
their behaviour in church, and I think you have
an effect which is overpowering.
I am anxious that my readers should keep the
character of this class in their mind when they
come to read what I have to say by-and-by about
the indiscriminate association of prisoners, be-
cause it should be remembered that this is by
far the most numerous of the different classes of
prisoners which the law has to take care of; and
having described their characters, I need hardly
add that in every prison they are the ruling
power, the reigning influence, the active
spirit.
Then the law has to deal with another class
of criminals for whom I would ask neither con-
sideration nor mercy, miscreants who seem dead
to the commonest and most natural instincts of
humanity, — men and women who are guilty of
the most hideous and barbarous crimes, acts of
violence and brutality which are truly appalling
in their nature. Some of my readers will recol-
lect the circumstance of the " Penge murder "
32 Convict Life.
not quite two years ago ; a case in which two
men and two women conspired to starve to death a
half-witted relative, and who actually made them-
selves merry within the sound of her dying cries.
One of these wretches, Patrick Staunton, was a
fellow-prisoner of mine at Dartmoor, and I saw
him not long ago snivelling and crying because
he had to eat his bread without butter, and
because he was made to perform a little — and a
very little — light labour. I ask no consideration
or mercy for monsters of this sort, the law cer-
tainly does not deal too hardly with them. This
Patrick Staunton is always running after the
prison doctor, and begging for medicine and
relief from work. The medicine I would have
administered to reptiles of the Patrick Staunton
class would be "three dozen" at the triangle
when the sun dawns upon the first of every
month.
But now let me turn to classes for whom I
would claim some consideration, and who ought
not to be considered as habitual criminals or be
dealt with as such. There is, first of all, the
man of education and culture, who, perhaps in the
presence of some great calamity, or from mis-
fortunes in his business, or to ward ofi* poverty
Grime and Griminals. 33
from those nearest and dearest to him, in some
rash moment, and after a life of sterling honesty
and integrity, commits one act of dishonesty.
I am reminded of cases now, where, if a little
time had been given and a little consideration
extended, men with honest hearts, who are now
in penal servitude, might have refunded money
which they were induced to take, and have been
living in happiness and respectability with their
families. I know one man now at Portland under
a long sentence, who was the post-master of a
northern town. He was one of the most guileless
men I ever knew. I thoroughly believe that he
would rather die than defraud a man of a penny.
He had a brother who was dear to him, but not
in so good a position as himself. The brother
came from a distant town one morning, wanting
a hundred pounds in a hurry to save his home
from destruction and his furniture from the
auctioneer's hammer. The post-master had
investments which he could not immediately
realize. He did not expect a visit from the Post-
office Surveyor for ten days. He borrowed the
Post-office money to save his brother. Without
doubt, if things had taken their usual course, he
would have replaced the money.
D
34 Convict Life.
Unfortunately for him the Surveyor — perhaps
receiving a hint from the proverbial " good-
natured friend " who wanted the post-mastership
— turned up the next day, the money was not
forthcoming, and the poor post-master got either
ten or twelve years, I forget which.
I know another prisoner at Portland under a
long sentence; I believe him to be one of the
purest-minded and most honest-hearted men in
the world. His character up to the time of the
act for which he was convicted had been, perhaps,
as spotless as that of the best of the human
family. His brother is a partner in an old-
established firm of high respectability in Picca-
dilly. His son has, during his father's incar-
ceration, passed through one examination after
another in his chosen profession with distin-
guished honour. I shall not easily forget the
emotion of my poor prison friend, when reading
the letters which conveyed to him the news of his
dear son's success, and which told how good God
had been to his loved wife and daughters in his
absence. I cannot help believing that A
was a good father and a good man. He was in
a position of trust ; one day, in an evil moment
for him, and in his anxiety to shield the family of
Grime and Criminals. 35
an old friend from disaster, he took money wliicli
did not belong to him. He took it for an act of
charity ; he took it knowing that he could repay
it; but, in doing so, he no doubt acted dishonestly,
and he had to pay the penalty.
I know of many similar cases, but I will not
detail them now. I do not wish to be misunder-
stood. I make no apology for the acts of these
men. They make none for themselves. They are
convinced, as I am, that it is the duty of the law
to punish in such cases. Unless it were to do so
there would be no security for property of any
sort. But there are degrees of guilt ; and I
venture to suggest that this class of men are not
abandoned and hardened and hopeless criminals,
and should not be dealt with as such. I am quite
sure that six months of imprisonment would be to
such men a much more severe punishment than
seven years of penal servitude is to an old thief.
To a man of education and respectability, who
has for once yielded to temptation — and surely to
err is human — the very first result of his act is
almost a suflBcient punishment. He commits a
moral suicide ; he entails upon himself ruin and
disgrace, often the loss of friendship on the part
even of his relatives ; he is torn from all that
D 2
36 Convict Life.
makes life dear to him; to say nothing of the
hell of remorse with which a man of any culture
and refinement is haunted in the seclusion of
his prison cell when he contemplates his own
downfall.
I repeat, that I make no apology for the acts
of this class of prisoners; but they are not brutes,
they are not monsters, they are far different to
habitual criminals, or professional thieves. They
are erring men, in nearly every case deeply sensible
of their guilt, and deeply penitent. This class of
men never offend a second time ; and I do not
think it necessary in the interests of law and
order that they should be treated as, or herded
with, professional thieves and red-handed mur-
derers.
It should be remembered, too, that amongst
those who are convicted for the first time, the
law often has within its clutches men who are
innocent. The case of Habron is too fresh in
the memory of the public to need remark here ;
but his was not a solitary case.
A few weeks ago, Mr. Cross, acting in the
interests of justice, found it desirable to release
another man, who for four years had been
separated from a newly-married and sorrowful
Crime and Criminals. 37
young wife, and condemned to the society of
the infamous at Portland.
Thomas Scampton, a young manufacturer,
whose family have for generations pursued their
avocations with honour in the town of Leicester,
was charged with making a bonfire of his own
factory to secure in ready money the sum for
which it was insured.
The chief witness against him was his own
partner, with whom he had been at variance.
There was hard swearing, and there were in-
terested motives on the side of the prosecution.
The jury convicted, but afterwards petitioned
for the prisoner's release. At last, finding that
Mr. Cross and Baron Bramwell were deaf to
all appeals, the family, conscious of their loved
one's innocence, indicted the man who was
principal witness against him for perjury. At
this trial, although the prosecution failed to
convict, so much evidence transpired to prove
Scampton' s innocence, that, upon the repre-
sentation of Lord Justice Thesiger, he was
immediately released. I worked side by side
with this man on the "trawleys" at Portland.
I was a witness of the anguish which he
sufiered, more on his young wife's account than
38 Convict Life.
his own. It was bis custom to work by my
side when lie could, and we together tried to
escape the contagion of the moral pestilence
by which we were surrounded. Scampton called
upon me a day or two ago. He says that he
can hardly yet realize his deliverance from the
association of " the awful denizens " of Portland,
and that often in the society of his devoted and
pure young wife, the hideous oaths of the gaol-
birds still ring in his ears and cause him to
shudder at the remembrance of the pollution
which was forced upon him.
Another class for whom I would ask some
consideration, are men who were born before the
School Board was so active as it is now — very
ignorant, knowing veritably no difference between
B and a bull's foot, and wlio are also very, very
poor. Men naturally honest, and desiring to re-
main so, who, during as severe a winter as that of
1878-79, find themselves utterly unable, no matter
how much they may try, to obtain employment,
have, in the extremity of their need, carried off
from some neighbouring farmer's barn a bushel of
potatoes, or from some adjacent baker's shop a
gallon of bread, with which to satisfy the cravings
of a dozen helpless and innocent children. It
Crime and Criminals. 39
may be doubted by some whether such cases
are ever punished by penal servitude ; but the
sentence is very commonly inflicted under these
precise circumstances, and especially when the
culprit happens to be tried by " the great
unpaid " at Quarter Sessions. The man, per-
haps acting under the delusion that God made
rabbits for poor men when he made hares for
the rich, has had a previous conviction for
some poaching alSray. Now I am not defend-
ing poaching, and I agree that whatever the
law may be, the duty of a good citizen is to
obey it; but as the law of bygone times
allowed the last generation to grow up in stolid
ignorance, I think some little allowance should
be made for this class, and that a former
conviction for poaching should not be deemed
a sufficient reason for sending a man to penal
servitude for a solitary instance of dishonesty,
committed to save his family from starvation.
Thefts of all sorts must be punished, but again
I say, the men who commit such petty thefts
are not monsters, or murderers, or professional
thieves, and should not be herded with them.
I will take this opportunity to make public an
order which has been given by his Royal High-
40 Convict Life.
ness the Prince of Wales to the servants and
keepers on his estate in Norfolk. The Prince of
Wales gets a good deal of abuse, undeserved
abuse, from all sorts of people ; but what I have
to tell about him speaks volumes for his goodness
of heart, and if his example were followed by all
the landowners in the country, a large number
of crimes would be prevented. A prisoner now
undergoing sentence for a poaching affray upon
another estate in Norfolk, told me that he for-
merly lived in the neighbourhood of Sandring-
ham. I will use his own words. He said, " I
was never in trouble while I lived there, nor
nohody else.'' I asked him, why ? He said,
because if a man needed a dinner, and wanted a
rabbit, he had only to go to the house and ask
for one. The Prince had given special orders
that the men about were not to trespass and
shoot for themselves, but that his keepers were
always to supply a rabbit to any labourer on the
estate, and that if none were in hand they
were immediately to go out and shoot some.
There is still another class of criminals who,
I think, should not be herded with professional
thieves, and whom a good reformatory system
might transform into sober and honest citizens.
Crime and Criminals. 41
I regret to say they include a very large class, —
many men, many women, and, worse still, lots
of boys and girls between the ages of four-
teen and twenty, who commit crimes under the
immediate influence of intoxicating drinks. Of
course, I know what abject fools men and women
are to get drunk, and that intoxication is a lame
excuse for crime; but then the law allows so many
inducements to be held out to people to get
drunk that I really think it should be considered
responsible in some degree for the result. There
are many hundreds of prisoners now in convict
prisons whose crimes were committed while they
were in a state of drunkenness, — often in the
public-house itself, always soon after emerging
from it. Drink is such a common evil amongst
the working-classes of Britain that it is rightly
called the National Sin ; and I think that the
Government has so much encouraged the vice
that it should not deal too hardly with its victims
when they are honest men, but should anxiously
educate them, when they become prisoners, into
more excellent habits. There are numbers of
lads now in our convict prisons who have
committed criminal and other assaults when in a
state of drunkenness who have never been guilty
42 Convict Life.
of dishonesty, but who are yet herded with pro-
fessional thieves, and are not receiving any in-
struction or advice which may guard them from
evil in the future.
The case of two youths, mere boys, just recurs
to my memory. They are now at Portland under
sentence of penal servitude for life. Their names
are Drinkwater and Stonestreet, and they were
sentenced to be hanged, but had their sentence
commuted. They got drunk on a Saturday night,
after a week of honest industry. At the public-
house, and when in a maudlin state, they encoun-
tered a woman old enough to have been their
mother; they treated her, and she got drunk.
At midnight the landlord, who had supplied all
the liquor, turned them into the street; the
woman's head struck the curb, but she got up
and went away with the lads. At daybreak on
the Sunday morning the lads were found in a
drunken sleep ; the woman, who lay between
them, and who had evidently been pulled about,
was dead. I have inquired about these boys since
my release. The affair took place at Southall,
in Middlesex. The boys were honest and indus-
trious, and my experience of them at Portland
leads me to say that they were unusually artless
Crime and Criminals. 43
and free from vice. When they first came to
Portland they never used foul language, or took
part in disgusting conversations, but I cannot
hope that they will have any good qualities long if
they remain in their present position amongst the
professional thieves ; and twenty years of such
association will transform them into monsters.
I suppose that liquor, and the publican, and
these boys caused the death of that woman ; but
I am quite satisfied that the boys know no more
how she came to her death than I do. This is
only one case of hundreds, nay, of thousands. I
suppose that all the professional criminals of
England were made so originally, either in their
own persons or that of their progenitors, by
drink, for if apparently by indolence or poverty, in
nine cases out of ten the indolence and poverty
were created by drink. I am quite certain that
amongst ?i07i-professional criminals nine-tenths of
their off'ences are directly traceable to drink and
public-houses. It would be well /or the working-
classes of England if Dante's inscription were
suspended over every gin-palace in the land : —
Through me ye entei' the abodes of woe ;
Through me to endless ruin ye are brought ;
Through me amongst the souls accurst ye go :
All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
44 Convict Life.
What is more to my purpose, though, is to
state my conviction that there is a large class
of criminals who, though honest men, have
broken the law while under the influence of
drink ; that although these men are justly
punished, the law has another duty besides
that of punishing them, and that is to educate
and reform them. The duty of the law is
not only to punish crime, but to use all the
means in its power to prevent it for the future.
It will be my aim in the following chapters to
show, that there is a criminal responsibility at-
taching to the law for the manner in which it
performs this duty ; that under existing arrange-
ments the law lays its hand the most heavily
upon those who are the least guilty, because
what to them is severe punishment is to the
habitual gaol-bird no punishment at all; that
the law owes it to the taxpayers, to society
generally, and to a still higher power, to use all
possible means to educate the ignorant, to raise
the fallen, and to bring back the erring to a
sense of their duty, but that at present its
efforts in this direction are futile, and almost
useless.
Convict Life. 45
CHAPTEK III.
CONVICT LABOUR AND CONVICT ASSOCIATION.
IT will be seen that in addition to a small num-
ber of educated professional criminals, and a
large number of ignorant ones, tlie law has to deal
with a variety of offenders who may be termed
novices in crime. There are the educated, who
have committed one wrong act ; there is the large
class who have committed all sorts of offences
under the influence of liquor; there are the few
unfortunates whom poverty has forced into crime ;
and there are numbers of mere children who
ought never to have been sent into a convict
prison at all. It may fairly be presumed that these
classes are not intrinsically bad ; that they are
open to good influences ; that a good reformatory
system, judiciously worked, might transform
them into industrious and sober and honest
citizens.
Now, what does the present convict system do
46 Convict Life.
with these first offenders who do not yet belong
to the class of habitual criminals ? It sends
them on to " public works," and thrusts them
into close communion with the abandoned villains
and professional thieves whose characteristics I
described in the last chapter. It binds them as
^ apprentices for five or seven years to learn the
trade of law-breaking. They are, during the
whole term of their imprisonment, under the
influence, tuition, and example, of miscreants
who, from the cradle to the grave, exist upon
outrage and plunder; they are by these men
initiated into all sorts of tricks and dodges by
which they can evade the prison discipline, and
elude the burden of work, during their imprison-
ment, and at the end of it enrol themselves in
the great and yearly-increasing army of profes-
sional thieves.
They enter prison mere novices in crime :
by the fostering care of a paternal Government
in these " high schools " of rascality, they may
upon their discharge be safely pronounced adepts
in all the arts of thieving, and thoroughly
qualified for a roguish career. An outsider will
naturally ask how it is that opportunities are
allowed for such free communication between
Convict Labour and Association. 47
prisoners, and I must reply by describing the
system under which labour upon " public
works " is carried on.
The men are organized into gangs or parties
of about twenty-five each, under the supervision
of a warder (or "screw" as he is called by
prisoners). Every morning, weather permitting,
the gangs are marched in double file to the
scene of their labours, where they " break off"
and commence the day's work. If it be stone-
dressing, two men always work at one stone ;
if it is a " barrow-run," the " filler " and the
wheeler are in close proximity ; if it be trench-
ing or brick -making, the men are almost of
necessity close together, and they talk quietly,
but incessantly, until the moment that the
whistle blows to "fall-in" again.
So long as the men appear to be at work,
no matter how little is done, and so long as
they keep their eyes wide open in order to give
"the office" to the warder as to the approach
of a superior officer, they may talk as much as
they please.
There is a tacit understanding between all
" second-timers " and old thieves, and the officers
who have charge of them. If the officer is
48 Convict Life.
caught in any dereliction of duty he is liable to a
fine ; these old thieves act as his spies, and take
care that he is not caught. In return he allows
the thieves to fetch what they call an easy
lagging, to do as little work as they please,
and to talk as much as they please — and
such talk !
The language used by these old criminals is
so abominable that I was going to say the Zulus
or the Afohans would recoil from it with shame
and horror; and the more revolting it is to
decency the more it is enjoyed by many of the
men who have been selected by the authorities
to superintend the labour, and assist in the re-
formation of convicts. In case of the approach
of the governor or chief warder, and the possi-
bility of their having heard what is going on,
the officer in charge will make a report against
a couple of men for talking or laughing at
work. The men selected to be reported are
invariably green hands, and the most innocent in
the gang.
The reason for this is obvious : the old
gaol-birds are content to act as spies for the
warder, but, exercising the cunning which is one
of the essentials of their vocation, they take
Convict Labour and Association. 49
pains to post themselves up in all his little
weaknesses and derelictions of duty, and would
not hesitate to betray him at some opportune
moment, should he dare to report them. The
warders who really do their duty, without fear
or favour, have to be constantly on their guard,
lest their heads should come in contact with
bricks, or their bodies be found at the foot of
a cliff.
Many an officer in charge of a party has what
are called his "marks," men who are made his
scapegoats when he requires a sacrifice to pro-
pitiate his superiors and to sustain his own reputa-
tion for efficiency and discipline. These " marks "
are in all cases the men who least deserve prison
punishment. I have known an officer to get up
a fictitious character for vigilance, and even to
earn his promotion, by continually reporting two
or three men of his party. The constitutions
of these men were irretrievably ruined by the
constant infliction of bread -and -water punish-
ment, and yet I could swear that they were
the least vicious and the most industrious in
the gang.
But as I have heard these warders say, "We
must look after them that look after us." The
50 Convict Life.
old thieves and they are old friends ; they
thoroughly understand each other, and work into
each other's hands. The old thief fetches an
"easy lagging," and recruits his health in- an-
ticipation of a new lease of criminal life ; and
the warder maintains his reputation for vigi-
lance. The men who suffer, and who go to the
wall, are the unsophisticated and the novices.
"What wonder that with such associations, and
under the influence of such a system, they
lose all morality and manhood, and in sheer
despair join the "regular army" of crime? In
these conversations — and recollect, I am speaking
from personal experience — the usual topic is the
art of thieving ; the causes of failure in daring
burglaries ; the mistakes by which, after a suc-
cessful crime, the thieves failed to escape detec-
tion ; the latest and newest invention for picking
locks or opening safes ; the most recent dodges
for successful robberies at railway stations ; the
most eligible districts for shoplifting, and the
most profitable occasions for pocket - picking.
Notes are memorised by which former mistakes
may be avoided, and the science of law-breaking
made perfect. The novices are also instructed
in the secrets and mysteries of the craft, the
Convict Labour and Association. 51
varied machinery existing in thieves' quarters for
procuring alibis, false evidence, and other dodges
for the evasion of the law.
They are regaled with exaggerated histories of
successful schemes of plunder, and of the " glo-
rious sprees " which have been enjoyed upon
their fruits, and hundreds of the ignorant and
the weak are by such tales induced to take
their chance in the business as soon as they
are liberated. I recollect one vagabond de-
tailing his experiences at railway stations.
Eor twenty-five years he had successfully
carried on a system of baggage- stealing ; some-
times in clerical garb, sometimes as a swell-
mobsman, and now and then disguised as an
opulent agriculturist, he would manage to pos-
sess himself of valuable portmanteaus. Rugby,
Derby, and Crewe were his favourite stations,
but he had made several successful hauls from
Charing-cross, by covering Dover labels with
Croydon ones. Arrived at the latter station,
the baggage was of course put out of the train,
claimed by him, and disposed of in London
before the real owners had arrived in Dover to
miss it.
What surprised me most about this scoundrel
E 2
y
62 Convict Life.
was that his tongue did not betray him to
the railway officials, for there could have been
nothing about him except his clothes likely to
deceive; a more veritable cad I never met.
I forget how many hundreds of portmanteaus
this man had possessed himself of, but foi'
more than twenty years he lived luxuriously;
the only intermissions being two short terms of
imprisonment, and his present sentence of seven
years' penal servitude.
He is now at Dartmoor, fetching what he calls
a very "easy lagging." He is considered by many
of the warders a very " wide man " — a " man of
the world." He looks after their interests, and
they look after his. He is in the leather- cutting
shop, and his labour is mere amusement. He is
such a " wide man " that he never gets a report,
and will consequently obtain the whole of his
remission — nineteen months — and be discharged
early next year upon a ticket-of -leave. He has
a pupil in the same shop whom he is instructing
in the mysteries of his art, and who is to become
his assistant and accomplice in the future. The
instructions go on in the presence of the officer
in charge, who seems to enjoy the fun. The
approach of the governor or chief warder ma}^ be
Convict Labour and Association. 53
seen from the windows of the shop ; one prisoner
is therefore always on the qui vive to give the
alarm. The foul and disgusting conversation is
incessant, but if " the authorities " enter all
seems as quiet as the grave, and the warder looks
as stern as a judge.
There is an old burglar and highway robber
in the same shop who is now doing his third
or fourth " lagging." From his experiences I
might, had I been so inclined, have learned
how to become a successful marauder. He
has never done a day's work in his life, and
never intends to ; his great and constant regret
is that he did not kill the poor old man upon
whom, in the dead of night, and in a lonely
house, he committed his last robbery ; had he
thoroughly " settled him," he says, there would
have been no evidence to convict him. This old
rascal, sixty years old, but hale and hearty, will
get his discharge next Christmas, and has got all
his arrangements made for a burglary at the
house of a gentleman near Cambridge, acting
upon information received from a prisoner
recently arrived at Dartmoor, who was convicted
on some other charge before he could effect the
robbery himself. I cannot tell how many
54 Convict Life. '
crimes are arranged in prison, and afterwards
successfully carried out, but their name is
Legion.
One scamp in the shoemaker's shop at Dart-
moor, hearing that I was shortly to be discharged,
and supposing me to be one of the "guild,"
requested me to carry a "crooked message" to
his brother, whose address he gave me, and who,
he said, was a "respectable working man.'* This
brother, it seems, works at different houses as a
mechanic, keeping himself straight, but informing
his dishonest pals where there is a " good lay,"
and even taking impressions of keys which come
into his possession in the course of his work, and
by which ingress may be obtained at night to
eligible premises.
The tenor of the message I was requested
to convey was where some keys could be
found which the prisoner had made to effect an
entrance to a house in Great Portland-street,
and a desire that the keys and necessary
information might be handed over to another
" pal."
More dangerous still are the conspiracies
got up in prison between educated professional
thieves. When at Portland I happened to be
Convict Lahour and Association. 55
working near a celebrated convict, of diamond
and chloroform renown. He. according to his
own account, had lived luxuriously for years
upon the proceeds of numberless ingenious
schemes of dibhonesty. His pal had been the
successful floater of bubble companies, had once
organized and paid for a grand testimonial and
banquet to himself in the city of Dublin, the
advertised reports of which in the Times and
Telegraph induced lots of fools to invest in the
bogus concern.
These two worthies were busily occupied
during the year I was near them in bringing
to perfection a scheme which threatened ruin to
foreign bankers, principally upon the American
continent. Both the rogues are now at liberty
— one, as I am informed, being in New York,
the other in London ; and they are doubtless
putting into operation the nice little game
which they were allowed opportunities to concoct
upon " public works."
I shall have to refer to these men again,
but I give these details here, to show how
faulty the present convict system is in regard
to the association of prisoners, and still more
for the purpose of urging the importance of
56 Convict Life.
a " classification of prisoners," so that first
offenders and novices in crime may not be
placed under the tuition of old thieves, and
so be educated under the aegis of the law for a
dishonest career.
I have just spoken of a man in the shoemaker's
shop at Dartmoor. Shoemaking, of course, is
indoor labour. In all the convict prisons the
tailoring and shoemaking are pursued in large
association rooms. Only a few weeks ago a mur-
derous outrage was committed upon an officer in
the shoemaker's shop at Dartmoor, an outrage
which would have been impossible except where
prisoners are associated.
The victim in this case, Luscombe, an assistant
warder, is, if he be still alive, a shoemaker by
trade, a native of Ashburton, Devonshire, and
one of the few intelligent and respectable officers
employed at Dartmoor. I saw him constantly
while I was at that prison, and believe that, with-
out fear or favour, and I am sure without any
harshness, he tried to do his duty.
But he was one of that class of officers who
were not " hail-fellow-well-met " with the old
thieves; he had no sympathy with the "profes-
sional," and I always felt sure that he would at
Convict Labour and Association. 57
I
some time be made a victim for his want of
policy. If a novice in crime was put into the
shop, a man who really desired to learn the
trade with the view of turning it to good
account afterwards, that man always found a
friend in Luscombe.
But, of course, such men were industrious,
for, as Luscombe often told them, " their object
should be to see in how short a time they could
make a good shoe." The few men in the shop
who did this were called " Luscombe' s lambs,"
" Government men," and '* policemen," and
were treated with contempt and derision by
the old thieves. "Why this is so, is evident. The
policy of the professional thief is to do as little
work as possible, to live at the expense of the
country, and to give nothing in return ; they
never average more than three shoes a week — V
about a day's work for an industrious shoe-
maker— so that the man who made three pairs
a week, was their enemy, and the occasion of
calling the attention of an honest ofl&cer to their
laziness. I have very little doubt that when
the truth comes out, it will be seen that Luscombe
had reported one of these old thieves for laziness,
and that for so doing he was made the victim of
58 Convict Life.
a conspiracy. A large number of oflBcers make
themselves safe by letting all "professional"
members of the "guild" do as they like; and
this they will do so long as the prisoners are
associated in large numbers, and have oppor-
tunities for conspiracy. It requires a man of
great moral courage to do his duty under present
regulations. Luscombe was one of these, but
they are few and far between.
A description of this shoemaker's shop at Dart-
moor, will convey a tolerable idea of the evils
of the association of prisoners in all "public
work " prisons ; and the amount of labour per-
formed in them will rather startle the innocents
who suppose that one of the objects of the Convict
Department is to transform criminals into indus-
trious citizens.
In the early part of 1879 I myself saw
sitting in this shop nearly two hundred men;
more than one-half of them were re-convicted
men; many had done two "laggings," some
three, and a few four. Of the remaining half,
about one-third had been in and out of prison all
their lives for petty offences, but had managed
to escape penal servitude. Sixty or seventy
remain to be accounted for; these were first-
Convict Labour and Association. 59
offenders, many of them mere boys, convicted for
drunken assaults, or for some poaching affray;
youths and young men who, had they been sen-
tenced to a short term of severe imprisonment,
with coarse food and plenty of work, supplemented
by the means of education, would very likely have
turned out useful and honest citizens. Here they
are, however, under the tutelage of old thieves,
nominally to learn how to make a shoe, really
and truly to be instructed in the most ingenious
ways of filching a watch or a purse. The men
are so crowded in this shop that they have to use
very short threads for stitching their shoes, or
their hands would come in contact with the next
man's head; every facility, therefore, is afforded
for chat.
It will no doubt appear strange to an outsider
that so large a proportion of the criminal class
should be shoemakers ; the fact is that they
are not ; they have, however, in county prisons
picked up a sHght knowledge of cobbling, and
of tailoring too, so that, when lagged, and asked
their trade, they register themselves as shoe-
makers or tailors, knowing that in these trades
they can "fetch" an "easy lagging," and have
plenty of association with their pals. Not one in
60 Convict Life.
forty in this Dartmoor shop could make a shoe
which would pass muster with the shoddiest
manufacturer in Northampton; here, however,
they are not only shoemakers but instructors
too.
There are fifty old thieves sitting in different
parts of the shop, each of whom has one or two
youths — novices in crime as well as in shoe-
making — under his instruction. What the appren-
tice learns during seven years of penal servitude
may be easily guessed. I knew several who had
been for three or four years under instruction
who could just turn out — well, not a shoe, but
what Carlyle would call an " amorphous botch,"
and they seemed to have no desire to improve so
as to gain an honest livelihood in this branch of
industry when discharged from prison, the reason
being very obvious ; they had learned from their
teachers, not a " more excellent," but a much
more easy method of obtaining money. I shall
show presently that the law does nothing for
the regeneration of criminals, but I think I have
shown that it is very busily occupied in creating
them. Sitting in such close proximity conversa-
tion is, of course, unlimited ; and as all the pro-
fessional thieves with whom I came in contact
Convict Labour and Association. 61
are dead to all sense of shame, the peculiar
grossness of their immorality and obscenity
comes out in their talk, and does its evil work
in forming the character and habits of the new
beginners in crime.
The bulk of the work performed in the shop
consists of boots for the Metropolitan police
force; the boots are supplied to the police at
9s. 3d. per pair, and as the material at contract
price costs at least 8s. 3d., the prisoner who
makes three boots in a week earns exactly Is. 6d.,
or about the cost of the bread he eats, with no
margin for the meat. This will be hard to be-
lieve, but as I was myself in the cutting- shop,
where every piece of leather was shaped for the
makers, I can speak very positively. In the
middle of March last there were 190 shoemakers
at work, and there were something less than 200
pairs of shoes manufactured in the week, so that,
making every allowance for the hands employed
upon the prison repairs, the work done did not
average three shoes to the man in the week. If
each man worked in his own cell he could, after
three months' practice, make a pair of shoes
every day with great ease, and would have no
opportunity to corrupt others, or, if he be a
62 Convict Life.
novice, become himself corrupted. There would
be no opportunity then for outrages such as that
committed upon Luscombe. Learners should,
of course, be instructed by competent officers
and not by prisoners. There are four warders
employed nominally at Dartmoor for this pur-
pose— Roberts, Warren, Luscombe (the victim
of the recent outrage), and a disagreeable
fellow who rejoiced in the name of Pinch. The
three first-named are doubtless competent men,
but under the present regulations their duties
are delegated to prisoners. If each man worked
in his cell, two officers passing from one cell
to another every few minutes might easily
instruct all the learners, and with very ad-
vantageous results, not only to the prisoners
but to the country.
The tailors' shops at Dartmoor, Portland,
and the rest of the convict stations, are open
to the same objections as to the association of
prisoners. There are nearly a hundred tailors (?)
at Dartmoor; far more than a hundred at
Portland ; from two to three hundred at
Woking, and proportionate numbers in the
other prisons. The only tailoring done is the
clothing of the prison warders. The clothing of
Convict Labour and Association. 63
the prisoners is mere plain sewing, and, together
with the repairs, might be easily performed bj
prisoners over sixty years of age, who are unfit
for hard labour. The uniforms of the officers
could be made by one-tenth part of the number
now employed upon tailoring if the men worked
in their cells, without the opportunity for " chat ;"
and I think that this work might well be confined
to youths who are first offenders, and who really
desire to learn a trade with a view to future
honesty.
The present composition of the tailors' shops
is this : Two-thirds able-bodied professional
thieves, who have registered themselves as
tailors to avoid hard labour, and the other
third made up of old men, learners, and
schemers, whose plausibility has imposed upon
the doctors to excuse them from manual labour.
Now, I very respectfully suggest that a thousand
able-bodied but lazy men, who, when at large,
religiously avoid all industrial pursuits, might
with propriety be employed in some other way
than in patching shirts and hatching schemes
for the plunder of the public in the future.
I do not think that the great army of pro-
fessional thieves will be reduced, so long as its
64 Convict Life.
soldiers can, when in prison, enjoy the society
of their chums, eat the bread of idleness, and
sleep for ten hours out of the twenty-four in a
comfortable hammock.
The men who do whatever hard work there
is done on public works are, as I have said,
novices and green hands, who have not been
"wide" enough to register themselves as tailors
or shoemakers.
The outdoor labour upon public works is as
unprofitable as the indoor, both at Portland and
Dartmoor. I have no doubt that the same re-
mark applies to all the stations, but I will only
speak of what is within my personal knowledge.
The celebrated moor upon which Dartmoor
prison stands consists of bog -land stretching
in one direction some twelve or fourteen miles,
and in the front of the prison for four or five
miles. The Government have had at their
command the labour of at least five hundred
men, not counting those employed at indoor
labour, for the last forty years — more than
sufficient time, with only ordinary industry, to
have brought the whole of Dartmoor into a
state of cultivation, and to have added greatly
to the productive land of the country.
Convict Labour and Association. 65
The moor only requires draining and trench-
ing to make it " blossom like the rose,"
yet, with the exception of a few hundred
acres in the immediate vicinity of the prison,
it remains a barren and dreary morass. That
it might be made profitable is placed beyond
a doubt, because in a few acres immediately
adjoining the prison asparagus, peas, rhubarb,
and all the other luxuries of the garden, are
brought to great perfection for the tables of
governor and chaplain. Having provided for
the needs of the oflBcials, the authorities have
done nothing more to the small portion of bog
they have reclaimed than to make it grow
carrots so coarse and bad as to be scarcely fit
for human food. There is also plenty of good
granite-stone in the quarries at Dartmoor, but
it is made no use of beyond what is needed for
the repair or enlargement of the prison.
The fact is, that here, and I believe on all
public works, time is "frittered" away. Nothing
is done completely or properly, and there is no
actual responsibility resting upon any officer to
get work done. The only thing in which the
authorities are systematic is in wasting time.
One hour is wasted regularly every day at Dart-
66 Convict Life.
moor in absurd military marchings and counter-
marchings, and useless formalities, before the men
go to work. Then, from want of proper business
management, I have often seen three or four
hundred men kept waiting for fifteen or twenty
minutes, because at the last moment it was dis-
covered that one gang was short of an officer,
or one officer was short of a musket, or that a
sufficient number of picks and shovels, or barrows,
had not been provided. When at last a start is
made, and the convicts reach the scene of their
labours, another quarter of an hour is wasted in
waiting for the principal officer who has charge
of the division. It is his duty to see that all the
gangs have arrived at their respective stations
before any can commence work : he then blows
his whistle and they "fall to." To what? I
will give an example.
I recollect the circumstances very well, be-
cause it was just before Good Friday, and
during the useless labours of that afternoon,
my thoughts travelled back to happy Christ-
mas and Easter seasons of past years. I
heard the vile oaths, and the disgusting and
obscene language of my comrades, and I con-
trasted the scene and its surroundings, with
Convict Labour and Association. 67
my once tappy home, where I was cheered and
smiled upon by a bright angel who made me, I
suppose, too happy. I could not help fancying
that her sister angels away up in the dark blue,
got jealous of the Elysium which she made for
me on this planet, and that they pleaded with
the Great Father to call her home that she might
enhance their joys, and sing her sweet songs to
them instead of to me. My loved one seemed
to be beckoning to me through the clear
ether on that winter afternoon, and my greatest
sorrow at that moment, was not that all my
happiness in this world had been shipwrecked,
not even that I had disgraced myself, and
condemned myself to the filthy companion*
ship of thieves and murderers : no ! my real
sorrow was that I had no power to answer
her summons, and to join her for evermore in
that sweet spirit-land "where the weary are
at rest."
I was recalled from my reverie by an order
from the '• screw " to " fall in." We were all
marched, some twenty-four of us, to the other
end of a large field, nearly half a mile off, to
fetch a sledge with which to remove some stones
from a bog-hole. Returning with the sledge we
F 2
68 Convict Life.
commenced the removal, and dragged the stones
to one corner of the field. An hour thus slipped
away, and the principal officer came his rounds.
The stones had not been placed where he wished,
and we were ordered to transfer them to the
gate at the entrance to the field. We did that,
and then the afternoon was gone.
We were resuming our jackets to return to
the prison, when the farm bailiff came along
upon his pony. He thought the stones would
be in the way where we had last placed them,
and directed that to-morrow we should remove
them to the next field.
The whole twenty-five men had not earned
one ounce of the brown bread, nor one pint of
the cocoa, they were returning to make their
supper on. They had certainly not contributed a
fraction towards the wages of the officers who
had charge of them, and they had learned
nothing, except lessons in vice and infamy with
which they had regaled each other in their
journeys backwards and forwards over that field.
0 yes, I was forgetting one thing ; they had
received one further confirmation of a doctrine
which was being preached to them over and over
again, day after day, and which therefore they
Convict Labour and Association. 60
could never forget, but would carry out of prison
with tliem as a " lesson for life," the doctrine
that time and labour are of no value.
I do not suppose that the heads of the Convict
Department really believe that this is a healthy
gospel to preach to lazy thieves whom they
desire to transform into honest and industrious
men, but they nevertheless preach it incessantly
in every public-works' prison in the land. I
recollect another afternoon not long afterwards,
in the same gang, when, in consequence of the
gross want of system and preparation for emer-
gencies which prevails on all Government works,
a poor wretch was, so far as the officials knew
or cared,
" Cut oflF, even in the blossoms of his sin ;
Unhousel'd, disappointed, iinanel'd ;
No reckoning made, but sent to his account
With all his imperfections on his head."
The gang were employed in clearing the earth
from around some large stones that they might
be loosened and removed. This man was in a
trench which he had made around the stone ; his
two companions, who were re-convicted men and
up to everything, perhaps scented danger ; at all
70 Convict Life.
events they had deserted their post, and this
man, a novice in crime as well as at the work
upon which he was employed, was alone. The stone
suddenly gave way, and crushed him to death
against the rear of the trench which he had
made. The officer in charge had paid no atten-
tion to what was going on, or, accustomed as he
was to the work, he would have warned the man
of his danger. When the accident took place, a
quarter of an hour elapsed before ropes and jacks
could be obtained to release the poor fellow.
During this time his dying cries, which haunt me
now, were, " Fetch the ropes! " — " Get the jack! "
— "For God's sake, help me!" The life was
crushed out of him ; the spark had not fled when
he was released, there was indeed a little flame,
but it only fluttered. 'No doctor was sent for
the moment the accident occurred, and nobody
thought of sending to the prison, which was a
mile and a half off", for a stretcher, until the stone
had been removed. Three quarters of an hour
more elapsed before it arrived; and during all
that time, which seemed to me an age, the poor
fellow's dying cries, and his ravings about the
dear ones at home, were piteous indeed. He
arrived at the infirmary alive, but only in time to
Convict Labour and Association. 71
die ; and lie died a victim to the imbecility and
want of forethought which seem to characterize
the whole department. Personally I should not
have felt this incident so much, if this man
had been one of the old professional criminals,
who care for no hving soul in the world but
themselves, and are themselves only blotches
upon the fair face of nature which one would be
glad to see obliterated ; but this poor fellow had
wife and children who were very dear to him. He
had often expressed to me his deep regret for the
offence which had brought him to prison, and his
firm determination to steer a straight course in
the future. There were extenuating circumstances
in his case, too, which his friends were at this very
time preparing to lay before the Secretary of State.
They were spared their pains ; but I have good
hopes that he was able to carry with him a very
sincere repentance, which will plead eloquently
for him before a Judge whose chief attribute
is mercy.
Dartmoor is, I believe, the only one of the
existing prisons at which there will be any out-
door employ for convicts after 1883. The works
at the other stations have all been completed.
The Breakwater at Portland was finished a quarter
72 Convict Life.
of a century ago, and since then the work which
has been done for the War Department has been,
as I will show further oa, of an utterly useless cha-
racter. Upon the moors of Devon there is suffi-
cient employment for the number of men stationed
there for the next two hundred years if the work
goes on as rapidly as it has done heretofore.
Whether what is done, in the way it is done, is of
much practical value is an open question; and
I really think that the Government would find it
pay to employ some reliable scientific man, and
some thoroughly practical agriculturist, who
could give an opinion about future operations.
My view is only that of an ordinarily intelligent
man ; but I think that labour, time, and money
are being uselessly squandered.
■ I am quite sure that all that the land is at pre-
sent made to produce could be purchased in the
market for less money than it now costs, leaving
the labour employed altogether out of the question,
and reckoning it as wasted, which it certainly is.
I have lately conversed with some practical men
who are well acquainted with Dartmoor and its
capacities. They are unanimous in thinking that
with thorough draining the whole moor might be
converted into magnificent pasture lands of in-
Convict Labour and Association. 73
estimable value. I can testify that all the work
now done towards draining the land is executed
so carelessly and recklessly that it is very inef-
fective. I have seen miles of drain-pipes laid
and covered in, which could not be other than
inoperative, unless — as is not often the case — the
laws of nature were suspended or reversed. All
that the officers in charge care for, is to get so
many feet of piping laid down for the governor's
inspection. Whether the drains ever do drain
the land, is no aflFair of theirs.
At Portland there is a little good stone-dressing
done. During the year 1877 a great many stones
were sent away to Borstal, near Chatham, and
also to some works in progress at Sunningdale,
but there is such a lack of earnestness and busi-
ness management in the work that had the stones
been charged for according to the time expended
upon them, and at the rate of wages paid to
a free stone-dresser, the contractor would have
been compelled to add twenty-five per cent,
to his price in order to avoid loss. Labour is
considered of no value upon " public works,"
and when sales are made of stones dressed by
convicts, the amount they have cost the Govern-
ment in food and clothing for the prisoners,
74 Convict Life.
and the wages of the men who watch them, is
not taken into consideration at all ; if it were,
the prices would be so high that no sales could
be effected.
It is no exaggeration to say that an industrious
free stone-mason would do as much work in an
hour as a convict at Portland performs in a day.
There is no task ; a man may take a month over
a stone 3 feet by 2 feet if he chooses, so long as
he gives the officer in charge of him no trouble.
There is one very large stone-dressing party who
work close to the prison gates ; a year and a half
ago it comprised nearly eighty men, many of them
being desperate characters, or men with very long
sentences, whom it was not thought prudent to
send far away from the prison ; taking the party
altogether it was composed of men who should
have been made to work hard, and they were
employed upon work which with ordinary good
management, combined with industry, should
have been remunerative.
What is the fact ? Why this, that putting the
very lowest market price upon the time occupied
in the preparation of the stones, each stone cost
the Government considerably more than double
the price for which it was sold. A year's work
Convict Labour and Association. 75
by these eighty men would have been done by the
same number of hands in an ordinary stone-
mason's yard certainly within a month. Free
men working as leisurely as convicts are allowed
to work in the stoneyards at Portland, could
not possibly earn their bread ; and with such
habits engendered in prison, what right have
the Government to suppose that when prisoners
are discharged, they will be false to their prison
training, and suddenly become possessed of
habits of industry, which will enable them to
be honest ?
The work upon which the majority of the con-
victs at Portland are employed is still less profit-
able. It is not only the total loss of the labour
of hundreds of men who are maintained at great
expense by the Government, but it involves an
immense outlay of the funds voted for the use
of the War Department.
For many years a corps of engineers and one
or two batteries of artillery have been stationed
at Portland barracks. I am quite in accord with
the truth when I say that for the last twenty
years, the labour of 500 convicts has been wasted
upon the Bill of Portland ; wasted in providing
practice for the engineer corps, and amusement
76 Convict Life.
for the artillery branch of the service. The real
cost of convicts to the country is never known,
because a charge for their labour is made by the
Convict Department on the War Department, and
is smuggled into the Army estimates.
While I was at Portland, racquet- courts and
billiard-rooms were built by convicts for the con-
venience and pleasure of army officers, and orna-
mental grounds laid out for croquet and cricket.
An ordinary contractor would have completed
these works in one-fifth of the time that was
occupied by the convicts, and with less than one-
fifth the number of men. But this is the least
portion of the corruption which exists. For
twenty years the convicts have been building
ornamental batteries, which surely can be of no
earthly use as coast defences. With such care-
lessness are they constructed, that I have seen the
same work done over again in three successive
years, and batteries that have resisted the weather
for two seasons I have seen pulled down and re-
erected at a diSerent angle to suit the whim of
some new-fledged engineer.
I have seen a hundred men employed for weeks
on barrow-runs, destroying a hill, and wheeling
away the earth to fill up a valley a quarter of a
Convict Labour and Association. 77
mile away; the very next summer tlie engineer
officer discovered that a mistake had been made,
and that the earth must be carried back again ;
and this sort of thing has been going on for the
last twenty years.
I was myself one of a party engaged for six
months in excavating and wheeling away earth
to a distance of about 300 yards. We then
built some slopes and embankments, and built
them so carelessly and badly, that a heavy shower
at night often destroyed the work of the day.
After a few more months the work was completed
and looked a little " ship-shape." The captain
of engineers came round with his theodolite to
inspect the works, and discovered that the angles
were altogether wrong. When I left Portland in
January, 1878, a hundred or two of convicts were
employed in doing all the work over again. It is
the opinion of many of the officers who have
charge of the labour, that these mistakes of the
engineer corps are intentional, and simply designed
to provide labour for the convicts. I beg leave
to suggest that they are very expensive means
to adopt, and that it is rather too bad to call
upon the taxpayers, not only to support convicts
who earn no part of their subsistence, but to
78 Convict Life.
lavisli large sums in providing occupation and
amusement for them.
It is not my business here to discuss the
propriety of erecting ornamental batteries along
the south coast, but I am satisfied that if
during the recess some Members of Parliament
would take the trouble to visit and inspect the
coast defences upon the Bill of Portland, they
would come to the same conclusion at which I
arrived, viz., that half-a-dozen of the guns used
in modern naval warfare would in half-a-dozen
hours blow the so-called coast defences into
smithereens.
The truth of my statements about the way in
which work is performed can be easily proved,
if some Member will move in the House of
Commons for a return of the works executed
by convicts for the War Department at Portland
during the period named ; the cost of the labour,
and of the implements and material incidental
to the labour ; together with the expenses of the
engineers and artillerymen engaged in superin-
tending it. When this return has been made,
let some honest Commissioner go down and see
what the War Department have got to show
for their money. I am told that these strictures
Convict Labour and Association. 79
would apply equally well to Portsmouth, and to
Chatham, but I have only spoken of what I have
seen with my own eyes, and what, if allowed the
opportunity, I could prove before a Committee
of the House of Commons. I am guilty of no
exaggeration when I say that two-thirds of the
convicts are maintained at great expense to the
country, and yield nothing in return, and that
this result is the consequence of bad manage-
ment and a corrupt system.
80 Convict Life.
CHAPTER IV.
PRISON LIFE — CONVICTS AND THEIE GUARDIANS.
IT is my intention to make this chapter a desul-
tory one. I want to convey to my readers
some idea of the character of the average prison-
warder, and I wish to relate a few remembrances
of eminent criminals with whom I came in con-
tact. I think the object I have in view — a reform
of the present system — will be best served if I
talk about the prisoners and officers in the same
connection.
Immediately after conviction, all convicts in
England, Scptland, and Wales are sent to what
are called " separate prisons," in which they
are detained for nine months to undergo their
"probation." Roman Catholics are confined in
Millbank Prison for this purpose ; associates of
the Church of England and other Protestants
go to Pentonville. /
In these separate prisons, and during the nine
Convicts and their Guardians. 81
montlis of probation, convicts are supposed to
be governed under tlie silent system. I have no
doubt that, even to-day, the directors of her
Majesty's convict prisons — good, innocent, use-
less men — imagine that their regulations are
carried out.
I had not been in the prison twenty-four hours
ere I discovered that Sir Robert Walpole's doc-
trine, if not absolutely true, would not find many
exceptions amongst prison warders. Certainly
every second man " had his price."
At Pentonville the warder has sole charge of
what is called a " landing," or floor, and this
includes, I think, about forty prisoners. On this
landing the warder is supreme ; he distributes the
food and the work, and if things go smoothly he
is not interfered with, or visited by the principal
or chief warder more than once in a week. He
knows at what hour the Governor or Deputy-
Governor maybe expected to "walk his rounds,"
and then, of course, everything is in apple-pie
order. At the end of each landing there is a
closet and store-room. Only one prisoner is sup-
posed to be there at a time ; and if two prisoners
are out of their cells at the same time for clean-
ing purposes the officer is supposed to take espe-
G
82 Convict Life.
cial care that they hold no communication with
each other. This is the theory. What is the
practice ? Well, that depends upon the amount
of the fee you can give the warder. The British
Government is not an economical one, but it is
often economical in the wrong place. In the
Convict Department it gives small salaries and
imposes great responsibilities. It engages indi-
gent and ignorant men without any high moral
qualities, and the result is corruption and
" malfeasance in office."
When I was at Pentonville I had a dear friend,
since, alas, for me ! gone to another world. He
was to me faithful amongst the faithless. My
folly did not alienate his great heart. Perhaps
he knew, what I hope was true, that I was not
all bad, and that, even after so disastrous a fall,
penitence would come, and conscience would be
roused, and I should " rise again " into a life of
purity and honour. At all events, he stuck to
me and visited me in prison when I was deserted
by everybody else.
I very soon discovered that it was possible to
communicate with him and yet elude the scrutiny
of the Governor's office over my letters. I am
quite conscious now, that in availing myself of
Convicts and their Guardians. 83
the services of corrupt officials, I was guilty of a
wrongful act, and which I now sincerely regret ;
but only those who have been deprived of com-
munication with all in the world that they hold
dear, can understand how great is the tempta-
tion in this matter to break the rules whenever
an opportunity presents itself. As a result of
my first letter by this " underground railway,"
my friend called at the house of the corrupt,
but, to me, useful warder. The next morning
I had the daily papers with my breakfast ; the
same evening I had my Pall Mall with my
supper ; and they were breakfasts and suppers,
for I was supplied with dainties and luxuries
which had no place in the " bill of fare " of her
Majesty's prison.
This continued during the whole of the nine
months of my stay at Pentonville. On my
removal to Brixton, where I only stayed seven
weeks, I could have made equally favourable
arrangements, but sickness had laid hold of my
friend, and before I left Brixton he was dead.
To return to Pentonville : this Mr. Warder had,
to my knowledge, half-a-dozen other clients
upon his landing, so that he was able to double
his salary at the very least. At the Christmas of
G 2
84 Convict Life.
1873 my friend took him a large turkey, a sirloin
of beef, puddings, pies, &c., which not j only
fed me, but regaled his family for a fortnight.
Other privileges resulted from the feeing. I was
installed in office as an " orderly." Instead of
passing the weary hours, when I could obtain no
readable book, in the solitude of my cell, I whiled
away a large portion of my time in the store-
closet, in conversation with other "paying pri-
soners," the warder himself keeping watch at the
staircase, to give the " office " in case of the
approach of visitors.
Here I made the acquaintance of two clergy-
men of the English Church who were, of course,
men of intelligence and education, and with
whom it was a pleasure to converse. One of
them, I fear, was in prison not for the first time,
the other had been convicted of forging some
stock of an insurance company of which he was
a director. His version of his downfall was
naturally a very plausible one, but it was very
apparent to me that he had been anxious to
obtain a larger share of " loaves and fishes "
than he could legally claim. His reverence
I had evidently a great liking for old port, and
many a bottle of that gouty beverage used to
Convicts and their Guardians. 85
find its way from his cellar in Yorkshire to
Pentonville prison.
I met both these clergymen afterwards at
Portland. The first-named, an Irishman, lost
nearly the whole of his remission by infrac-
tions of the prison rules, trafficking in tobacco,
and other little peccadilloes of that sort.
The Yorkshireman was more canny ; he kept
himself straight, made friends with the doctor,
was invalided, and transferred to Woking. I
must say he was the j oiliest- looking invalid I
ever came across.
Another of my associates on this landing was
a man for whom I felt a very deep sympathy.
He bribed the warder, but it was for no other
purpose than to obtain more frequent news of his
wife, to whom he was devotedly attached, and
who was wasting away of consumption. He had
graduated at Oxford, and had achieved some
success in his profession ; but an absurd desire
for display, and an ambition to keep as liberal a
table and as well-bred horses as his richer neigh-
bours, had led him into difficulties, from which he
sought to extricate himself by forgery. His act
and the folly which led up to it could not be
apologized for ; but then I was also a sinner, and
86 Convict Life.
I sympathized with the man when I saw what
agony he suffered in the knowledge that his loved
wife was dying, and that he could not be
near to comfort her. No doubt, the conviction
of her husband hastened the poor young wife's
end.
One morning, — I think it was in September
1873, — the poor fellow was summoned into the
presence of the Governor. I will describe the
interview, because it portrays the character of
the Governor. I know that he had many rough
characters to control, who require rough treat-
ment. At times, no doubt, he did well to be
stern; but there are times when even the governor
of a prison should unbend, and when sternness
degenerates into brutality. This Governor was
a militia or volunteer officer, and so, of course,
stood severely on his military dignity ; he insisted
upon a salute from everybody, officers and pri-
soners, whenever he made his appearance.
On this September morning my sorrowing
neighbour had been greatly disappointed at
getting no news of his wife through the warder.
At noon he was ushered into the awful presence
of the Governor. He was in a nervous state,
and not thinking much of military tactics,
Covkids and their Guardians. 87
when the stern voice of the chief warder called
out, —
" 'Ands by your side ! Hies to your front ! "
Governor. — " Do you know a Mrs. Warner ?"
Prisoner. — " Yes, sir."
Governor. — " Who is she ? a relative ?'*
Prisoner. — "She is a friend with whom my
wife is staying, and she is kindly nurs "
Governor. — " That will do. There is bad news
for you. Your wife is dead.'*
Chief Warder. — " Right about face ! March !"
At Portland and at Dartmoor, if any such
event occurred, it was customary for the governor
to authorize the chaplain to communicate the
news privately to the prisoner in his cell, and I
think it would have been more humane if the
same course had been pursued at Pentonville.
I have given a specimen of prison officials,
high and low, at Pentonville, and now let us go
to Portland.
The change seemed at first an unfortunate one
for me. The doctor passed me as suited for
ordinary hard labour. All the previous physical
exercise of which I had partaken had been for
amusement. I once won the silver sculls in a
sculling match at Henley ; 1 had taken some
88 Convict Life.
tolerably rough horse exercise in my time in
different parts of the world ; and I could handle
a rifle as well as most civilians ; but up to now
I had been a total stranger to the pick and shovel,
and to the wheelbarrow.
I made no demur. I did not attempt to cant
myself into the chaplain's good graces and get
myself made a tailor ; I did not follow the ex-
ample of scores of great strong lazy fellows
whom I saw around me, men who had never been
accustomed to the refinements or even comforts
of life, men who had come from the kennel and
the dungheap, but who nevertheless from sheer
laziness went crying day by day to the doctor,
and at last bored him into a certificate for "light
labour."
I went to work with a good heart. I knew
that by my own folly and wickedness I had de-
graded myself to a convict's life, and I resolved to
make the best of it and try to do my duty. I
took my pick and shovel and became an " exca-
vator." The work required of convicts on a
barrow-run at Portland is, I should think, to a
man at all accustomed to the labour, mere amuse-
ment. I worked at it for four months, and then
I had to give in ; but this was not because too
Convicts and their Guardians. 89
much work was required of me. The continual
stooping, which was new to me, certainly sent
me home twice a day with a pain in my back ;
but the strain upon me, which reduced me rapidly
from twelve stone to nine, was mental, and was
not chargeable to my work.
It was in the summer of 1874, on a bright
warm day, that I had to succumb. I could
scarcely walk back to the prison in the dinner-
hour ; I was led down to the infirmary, and soon
found myself under the penetrating eye of the
assistant- surgeon, Dr. Bernard. As this gentle-
man was afterwards made a scapegoat in a case
where a prisoner was supposed to have died
through neglect, I will say wliat I know about
him and about doctors generally in the service.
The duties of a medical officer in a convict
prison are not only very responsible and arduous,
but very difficult to perform. I recollect that
during a considerable portion of last year, out ot
about 1,000 men at Dartmoor, 150 applied to see
the doctor every day. I speak entirely of my
own knowledge and from information gained from
the men themselves, when I say that certainly
100 out of the 150, had nothing on earth the
matter with them, and had they been free men,
90 Gonvict Life.
would no more have thought of going to the
doctor than they would of going to church.
With some prisoners it is merely a mania ; they
will do anything, take anything, or go anywhere
for variety.
Another large class, and not at all an insignifi-
cant percentage of the whole, actually trouble the
medical officer, utter a lying complaint, and take
a dose of medicine, for no other purpose than to
get near a *' pal" who has also arranged to be on
'the doctor's list. The object is to do a little
stroke of business. A prisoner whose labour is
out of doors can get a little piece of tobacco
from an officer, if the prisoner who works indoors
can give him in exchange some needles or some
thread, or a piece of cloth, or a piece of leather,
with which the aforementioned officer can mend
his boots, or some boot-laces. The articles named
are of course stolen from the tailors' and shoe-
makers' shops, and the exchanges are frequently
made during the medical officer's visit, and whilst
the prisoners are waiting their turn to see him.
Then there is another class of prisoners who,
without the slightest reason, complain day after
day for weeks of " extreme weakness," and " faint-
ing sensations." Their hope and their object is
Convicts and their Guardians. 91
to worry the doctor into ordering them a daily
dose of cod-Hver oil. They often succeed ; the
doctor having no time to go into detail, and
feeling that it is better for him to err on the
side of humanity. I knew scores of men, both
at Portland and Dartmoor, who were for months
taking tonics and cod-liver oil, who had nothing
on earth the matter with them, and who used to
chuckle to their pals over their success in hood-
winking the "croker."
There is another large class of prisoners who
systematically "^'fake" themselves, as they call it;
and unless the medical officer is a man of great
experience, or a very shrewd fellow, he is often
taken in. I knew one strong, hearty, lazy young
fellow at Portland, who was able in some way
to produce blood, and to deceive the medical
officer with the notion that his lungs were
in a bad state. I am tolerably sure that the
doctor doubted the fellow, but being uncertain,
gave him the benefit of the doubt. The conse-
quence was, that he was employed at the lightest
kind of labour, and at last transferred to
Woking, where I have no doubt he finished
his very easy lagging. This young rascal took
good care to complain at all times to the medical
92 Convict Life.
officer ; he avoided the assistant medical officer,
who was too sharp for him, and for a great many
more of the scamps.
I knew another man, a man of some education
too, and who onght to have known better — a
man who, by-the-by, had been a clerk in the
Convict Department. He had been sentenced to
five years for some swindling in connection with it.
He was a great, strong, powerful fellow, as well
able to do a day's work as any man on Portland
Bill. His habit was to eat common soda, which
he used to obtain from the men employed in the
washhouse, and which he used to pay for with
tobacco obtained from an officer. "With this soda
he was able to produce some effect which deceived
the medical officer, and he was kept upon the light-
est description of labour during his whole sentence,
and was, when discharged, as fat as a porpoise.
Another deception practised to a very great
extent is produced by the eating of soap. The
action of the heart is very much influenced by it,
and scores of men sneak into the infirmary, or
evade their labour, by using it. It is also well
known that quite a number of prisoners resort to
more violent means to avoid labour, disabhng
themselves in an endless variety of ways.
Convicts and their Chiardians. 93
Witli the knowledge of all these facts, it is
certainly the duty of medical officers in the
convict prisons to keep a sharp look-out ; and,
as I have said, it is of immense importance
that they should be men of experience and
shrewdness, otherwise there is a great danger
that in their determination not to be '* done,"
they may sometimes refuse treatment where
it is really required. Quite at the beginning
of this year Dr. Harrison, who was assistant
medical officer at Dartmoor, obtained his well-
earned promotion, and was transferred to
Wormwood Scrubs. Dr. Harrison was the most
painstaking and careful man I saw in the service.
If he erred, it was always on the side of huma-
nity, and he certainly never refused treatment
where it was needed; and yet this man was
called a butcher and a murderer by some of the
scoundrels who could not practise upon him.
In the spring of this year, and after my dis-
charge, a green young doctor was sent to Dart-
moor on probation, who evidently did not intend
to be "done," but he was too smart. He lacked
experience, and so was taken in by sharpers, and
neglected men who really required treatment.
On the 21st of last June I received a letter by
94 Convict Life.
Underground Railway from a prisoner of some
education who has no love for sharpers or
habitual criminals, and whose word may be taken.
He writes, " Dr. Power has been transferred to
Portsmouth, and we have had here in his place "
— well, I will leave out the name and my corre-
spondent's rather violent description of the doctor.
He proceeds, " He emptied the infirmary of all
the sick men, and kept in, and pampered, all the
sham lunatics and the fellows who were ' putting
the stick on.' Let two instances of his treatment
suffice. B 1183, James McDermot, had been
complaining daily, for months, of yellow jaundice.
Upon one occasion he fell out of the ranks of his
party, when proceeding to work, for the purpose
of seeing the doctor. The doctor told him there
was nothing the matter with him, and that if
he troubled him again he would send him to the
punishment- cells. At length, when no longer
able to walk, he did trouble him again, and was
admitted to the infirmary; but it was too late,
for after three weeks' infirmary treatment he was
buried. In another instance, Leon Hendy, a
Frenchman, considered the best tradesman in
the carpenter's shop, complained daily, but could
get no treatment. In the meantime Dr. Smalley
Convicts and their Guardians. 95
was appointed to this post. As soon as lie arrived
lie admitted Hendy at once, and did liis best for
him ; but it was too late, he had been neglected
too long, and in eight days he was dead."
I have quoted this letter, but I do not wish
to convey the impression that these things often
occur. They do not. It is the doctors who
are "done" in the majority of cases, not the
prisoners ; but in order that the schemes of
impostors may be as much as possible frustrated,
and that on the other hand really necessitous
cases should receive attention, I think I am
justified in urging upon the Directors the im-
portance of appointing only such men as are
shrewd and skilful. In justice to them I
ought to state that the man who made these
blunders at Dartmoor, and who was on probation
for the post of Assistant Medical Officer, was not
appointed.
Let me now go back to my own experience
at Portland, and to Dr. Bernard. The moment
he saw me, and scarcely asking me a question,
he gave the order, "Put that man to bed." In
bed I remained for five or six weeks, receiving
from Dr. Bernard the best possible treatment,
as much nourishing food as I could take, and
96 Convict Life.
constant attention from him daily. This was
in 1874 ; and from that time until the hour
of my release I never had to lay up for a
day. Dr. Bernard made a man of me, and
I went again to outdoor labour and continued
at it until my removal to Dartmoor in 1878.
I have said that Dr. Bernard was dismissed
the service on account of his supposed neglect
of a prisoner who died. The facts are, that the
coroner's jury made some ugly remarks, and it
became necessary that there should be a victim.
Why it should have been the assistant medical
oJ05cer who was made responsible I never
understood ; but it seems that the chief medical
officer, who was a very uncertain man, and
acted upon impulses, which were sometimes
generous and sometimes otherwise, had brought
the man some champagne from his own cellar
the day before his death. This act seems to
have convinced the ignorant jurymen that ♦ the
medical officer could not have been at fault,
and so the assistant became the victim. My
observation convinced me that if a prisoner was
really ill he always got treatment, and sldlful
treatment, from Dr. Bernard, but he was the
very deuce at unearthing tricksters and schemers.
Convicts and their Guardians. 97
The man who died had been a trickster for
years, and at last made himself really ill. Dr.
Bernard, knowing his character, perhaps took
little interest in the case ; and really, I think
men who act in this way have no right to
expect much consideration from doctors when
they are indeed ill. Knowing that men have
been " faking " themselves for years, it is no
wonder if a doctor, after he has found them
out, gives little heed to what they say.
I watched Dr. Bernard very closely, for the
simple reason that I used to hear all the schemers
and habitual thieves abuse him, and whilst I
admit that he was sharp and severe with
tricksters, his treatment of men who were really
ill was skilful and kind.
98 Convict Life.
CHAPTER y.
CONVICTS AND THEIR GUARDIANS {continued).
THE first prisoner whose acquaintance I made
in the infirmary at Portland was the noted
forger, William Roupell, formerly M.P. for
Lambeth. He was head nurse and doctor's
factotum, and a nice easy time he seemed to
have been having during the greater part of his
lagging.
Now, while I am so strongly of opinion that
there should be a classification of prisoners, I
hold that it is manifestly unjust and unfair that
any partiality should be shown to a prisoner
on account of his former social position, or
because he may have influential friends to
whisper into a Director's ear. That Roupell
had such friends, and that great partiality was
shown to him, was too patent to escape ob-
servation, and when one reflects upon the
enormity of his crime, I think that any ex-
Convicts and their Guardians. 99
ceptional leniency in his favour was scarcely
justifiable. I found Roupell a tolerably in-
telligent man, but not particularly so. I think
I shall do him no injustice when I say that
most of his reading was done after his convic-
tion. He had a good deal of cunning, but the
little knowledge he possessed was very super-
ficial, and he impressed me with the idea that
surely it could have been nothing but ready-
money and beer which deluded the electors of
Lambeth into supposing him to be a statesman.
I believe that his father had stood in the
relation of " Uncle " for a great many years to
the denizens of the classic thoroughfares which
abut upon the Westminster Bridge Road ; and as
it was not then known that he had defrauded an
elder brother of his inheritance, this family tie
may have endeared him to his cousins in the
New Cut ; I rather incline, however, to the behef
that it was oiily the beer which influenced the
incorruptibles of Lambeth.
William Roupell told me that after finishing
his " separates " he had been sent to Portsmouth,
and had there been compelled to work in the
" chain - cable gang " at the dockyard. " Fine
work for a gentleman," he remarked, " polishing
H 2
100 Convict Life.
chains." I asked him if he were in good health,
and he said, *' Oh, yes ; but I was not going to do
that sort of thing." He had to do it, it seems,
so long as he remained at that station, for
Captain Harvey, the present estimable governor
of Millbank Prison, was then in command there,
and he was not open to any outside influences.
E-oupell's friends could produce no effect upon
Captain Harvey ; he was treated with humanity
and impartial justice, but with no favour.
As I was for a few days under the control
of Captain Harvey prior to my discharge,
and as I heard a great deal about him from
both officers and prisoners, I take this oppor-
tunity of saying that I consider him a model
governor. Strict justice is in his hands tempered
by consideration and humanity, and I cannot
help adding that he impressed me with the idea
that he was one of the most perfect specimens of
an English gentleman with whom I had ever
come in contact.
I had occasion to speak to him almost on the
eve of my discharge, and he volunteered a few
words of good advice, in the spirit, and with a
gentleness, which one would expect from a brother
who was really anxious for one's true welfare.
Convicts and their Guardians. 101
I felt sincerely grateful to him, and I shall always
honour him.*
William Eoupell, finding that Captain Harvey
was not to be tampered with, pulled another
string. Through some influence brought to bear
upon the Directors he was transferred to Port-
land, and his future path was strewn with roses.
He was soon installed as head nurse in the
infirmary. He had the good fortune to be con-
victed before the passing of the Act of 1864, so
that he was entitled to a very difierent diet to
that served out to the rest of the prisoners, a
better diet, in fact, than can be regularly obtained
by the best and most honest and sober of English
mechanics.
Roupell, however, was not satisfied with that.
By some means or other he had got on the blind
side of governor and doctors, and there was no
luxury ordered to any sick man which was not
at the command of William Roupell. I tasted
* In paying this tribute of respect, I think it right to add
that I never was brought before Captain Harvey for any
breach of prison rules, and therefore had no opportunity to
receive any favour at his hands, and that had such been the
case I am quite sure that he would have punished me accord-
ing to my deserts.
102 Convict Life.
neither fish nor poultry, game nor fruit, for nearly
six years, but I saw Roupell get such luxuries
every day, and he never lacked port wine,
bottled stout, and brandy. He had a nice little
piece of garden given him in the infirmary
grounds, and here he built himself a summer-
house and a grotto, and he whiled away pleasant
hours in tending his flowers.
In the afternoon he frequently went down to
the governor's private office for an hour or two.
What he did there I do not know of my own
knowledge, but officers who had no interest in
lying about the matter told me that he had access
to the newspapers, and that his correspondence
was unhmited. He made a great display of his
piety. I thought it too lavish and obtrusive to be
genuine ; but I hope I was mistaken. The chap-
lains did not think so, and they ought to know
better than myself. He stood high in their good
graces, and indeed was "hail-fellow-well-met"
with governors, doctors, and chaplains. To the
schoolmasters and principal warders he assumed
a patronising air. Altogether he had quite a jolly
time of it, and was even better off than the late
occupant of the Westminster Clock-tower, for
his nights were not disturbed by the ticking or
Convicts and their Guardians. 103
striking of either "Big Ben" or his "grand-
father's clock."
I made the acquaintance of another prisoner
who claimed to have been born with a silver
spoon in his mouth, and as what I have to say-
about him will necessitate the revelation of a
remarkable instance of the corruptibility of prison
officials, it may be considered germane to my pur-
pose. Now, although I think that with one slight
alteration the present prison diet would be a
sufficient and wholesome one, it certainly is not,
and ought not to be, a fattening one.
The moment I saw "Mr. Vane" I was convinced
that he had " other resources," for he was in
splendid condition. He was of large physique,
and would naturally require a little more food
than some, but his proportions were grand, and he
looked as well-fed as any Lord Mayor. This Vane
was not a good-looking man, and certainly bore
no personal resemblance to the Yane-Tempests ;
but he had plausible manners, and by dint of hard
lying and fictitious letters from a woman outside
who addressed him by that name, he had induced
the chaplain, doctor, and Scripture - reader to
believe that he was Lord Ernest Vane-Tempest.
He so imposed upon the credulity of a kind-
104 Convict Life.
hearted old clergyman who sometimes visited the
prison, that the good old dupe parted with some
considerable sum of money for the purpose of
aiding a woman with whom the convict had lived,
and whom he said he had privately married.
His story was that he had hidden his real position
at the time of his conviction, to shield his family
from disgrace, and that they were still ignorant
of his downfall, and supposed him to be in
America. Consideration for the family doubtless
prevented the authorities from making inquiries,
but I fancy the governor always doubted the story.
The real Lord Ernest Vane-Tempest had in
his youthful days cow-hided a brother oflScer in
the Haymarket. To avoid arrest Lord Ernest
went to America, and during the Civil War served
as an aide on the staff of General McClellan.
On his return to England he was pursued by his
enemy, and was imprisoned for a short time as
a first-class misdemeanant. This youthful esca-
pade gave a sort of colour to the impostor*s
tale, and his weak-minded dupes swallowed it
on the " Give-a-dog-a-bad-name-and-hang-him '*
principle.
The real Lord Ernest is now, and always was,
a man of high honour, and unless the " sprees '*
Convicts and their Guardians. 105
of his minority are to be quoted against Mm still,
lias through his life maintained the reputation
of a gentleman. I told the chaplain on one
occasion that this fellow was not Lord Ernest ;
for that I had seen and known that nobleman,
but as he seemed to think I was mistaken I
troubled no more about it.
One day the party to which I was at the time
attached were called to assist No. 27 party, in
which Vane was to load some stones. I made
an excuse to get near him, and addressed him
thus: "Mr. Vane, I think." "Yes, I am."
"Do you know Lord Ernest Vane- Tempest ? "
" "Well, yes, I should think so ; do you not know
who I am ? " " No, I cannot say that I do ; but
I know Lord Ernest Vane-Tempest, and he and
I have frequently breakfasted together at Wil-
lard's Hotel in Washington." This Vane gave
me a wide berth afterwards ; indeed, he was in a
few weeks discharged. "What I learned after-
wards from the officer who provided him with his
aldermanic fare, shows that these constitutional
thieves do their best to " keep their hands
in," even in prison. This rascal succeeded in
his rogueries.
I think it was in the summer of 1876 that I,
106 Convict Life.
amongst others, was drafted into a party which
worked some " trawleys " on the incline leading
down to the Breakwater. I soon found that
the officer in charge was what prisoners call a
" square man," that is, a man who could be
squared. He was an Irishman, had been a
colour-serjeant in the Infantry, was decorated
with four or five medals, and was in receipt of a
pension of some two shillings and threepence per
day. It is not necessary to relate how I became
intimate with him, but after awhile he told me
the history of his connection with " Mr. Vane."
Vane had thoroughly satisfied this man that he
was Lord Ernest, that upon his release he would
obtain possession of an estate, and that in return
for the services rendered to him in prison he
would appoint this officer his steward, with a
house and salary of two hundred per annum.
In addition to these great promises, he also
gave the " screw " a promissory-note for two
hundred pounds, at the foot of which he forged
the name of Lord Ernest Vane-Tempest, and
which note I afterwards had in my hand. On
the strength of this the corrupt official furnished
this scoundrel with tobacco day after day for two
years. There were two other prisoners, tools of
Convicts and their Guardians. 107
Vane's, in tlie secret ; the tobacco was planted in
certain places upon the works, and carried into
the prison and exchanged for the beef and
mutton upon which Mr. Vane got so fat.
So satisfied was the officer that he had got
hold of a good thing, that when Vane was dis-
charged, he, not having sufficient money, pawned
his watch in order that his Lordship might have
a fashionable suit of clothes in which to go home
and "take possession of his estates." Not hear-
ing from his Lordship according to promise, the
" screw " got leave of absence, and made a visit
to Plymouth to look up his Lordship. He did
not find him at the fashionable address he
expected, but after some trouble he unearthed
him in a low lodging-house, at which, he assured
me, he would not have stayed himself. *' The
gaff was blown " now, but the swindler was safe ;
he knew that the " screw " could not prosecute
him for forgery without criminating himself.
This corrupt officer, who is only a sample
of plenty more at Portland and proportionate
numbers at other stations, had several irons in
the fire in 1876, and was trying to make up his
Vane losses. He was bleeding the family of a
young man from Leicester, whose friends were
108 Convict Life.
well off, and he did this under pretence of accom-
modating the prisoner with luxuries. But one
of his acts was such a flagrant robbery that,
although, for the sake of a young lady of good
position who is implicated, the fellow cannot be
prosecuted, I think it my duty to expose it for
two reasons : one is, that it may incite the Direc-
tors of the Convict Department to keep a sharper
eye on these rascals ; and the other is that
it may prevent persons of respectability, who
may be unfortunate enough to have a relation
in prison, from becoming the victims of these
harpies.
A man of good family committed an offence in
1873 which sent him into penal servitude. His
family deserted him, but a young lady, herself
the niece of the governor of a London prison,
and to whom the man was betrothed, visited
him in the House of Detention without the
knowledge or consent of her relatives. Up to
the time of his conviction she supplied him with
such luxuries as he wished, carrying them to the
prison daily with her own hands. After his
conviction and removal to a convict prison she
cheered him by her letters. The prisoner be-
came acquainted at Portland with the " square
Convicts and their Guardians. 109
warder" in question. He had sufficient honour
not to desire to tax his lady-love to send him
luxuries ; but he knew that she would gladly pay
for more frequent correspondence, and he made
arrangements with the " screw." For some
time the letters came, then they failed. They
failed, because in them the young lady spoke
of having sent money to procure him luxuries.
When the prisoner was discharged, he found that
his lady-love had parted with a considerable sum
of money to this fellow under the delusion that
she was ministering to the comfort and happiness
of her lover.
For aught I know this officer is still in the
service, and perhaps still fattening on the proceeds
of other knaveries.
In the exercise-yard at Portland one Sunday
I made the acquaintance of a prisoner, whom
I mentioned incidentally in another chapter.
He was educated for the priesthood of the
Catholic Church, and was therefore a man
of some culture; but his propensities were so
thoroughly immoral, and his intentions for the
future, as detailed to me, are of so dangerous
a character, that he will require to keep a sharp
look-out or he will find more " breakers ahead."
110 Convict Life.
He was a good-looking man, with ex-
ceedingly plausible manners ; and, I should
think, about forty years of age. But although
good-looking and agreeable in his manners, he
always reminded me of Bulwer Lytton's " Candid
Man." He was too frank, too familiar, too
degage to be perfectly natural, and he had a sly
and cunning expression in his perverse and
vigilant eye which used to make me shudder.
It may be recollected that this fellow had by
taking fashionable lodgings in Mayfair and
sporting a brougham induced a "West - End
jeweller to send for his wife's inspection three or
fouj* thousand pounds' worth of jewellery. With
the assistance of his wife he drugged the man
with chloroform, and, leaving him asleep, took
the diamonds, made good his escape into Holland,
and disposed of the greater part of them. The
wife was arrested, but acquitted on the ground
that she acted under the influence of her
husband. When a few months had elapsed he
ventured back into England to call for his wife,
intending to embark with her for " Dixie's
Land." His wife had been watched; he was
" trapped," and sentenced to eight years' penal
servitude. He played his cards very well at
Convicts and their Ouardians. Ill
Portland, had an easy time of it, and was a
strong, healthy-looking fellow when discharged.
Erom his own admissions to me he lived in
clover in London for many years, and secured
a good income from the proceeds of bogus
advertisements in the London Times.
As I notice advertisements every day in the
leading papers, which I have no doubt are
spurious, I presume that this class of thieves still
find "gulls." Here is a sample of this prisoner's
many devices, dictated by his own lips : —
" The captain of a steamship, trading to
Brazil, has been instructed by a wealthy noble-
man of that country to obtain for him a first-class
governess for his children. She must be familiar
with the Spanish language, and thoroughly
competent to instruct in Enghsh, French, and
music. To a competent person the nobleman is
willing to pay the unusual salary of £400 a year,
together with board, lodging, and first - class
travelling expenses. Applications must be
accompanied by complete and minute testi-
monials, and addressed to Captain ,
Southampton-street, Strand, London."
To this tempting advertisement he received
nearly two hundred replies from all parts of the
112 Convict Life.
United Kingdom and the Continent. To each
one he gave the same answer, — She was one of
the fortunate three whom he had selected from
a host of applicants, and whose testimonials he
had determined to forward to Brazil, casting the
onus of final selection on the nobleman himself.
The postage of the testimonials to Brazil would
cost about 10s. 6d. ; and if that amount were
forwarded by return of post, the package would
go out by the next mail. He assured me
that more than a hundred fools were green
enough to fall into his trap.
This is, of course, but a sample of his mul-
titudinous schemes. His intention when dis-
charged was to go to New York, and he in-
formed me that he had perfected a scheme
which would defy detection, and by which he
intended to make a fortune out of New York
bankers. I sincerely hope that Brother Jonathan
will be too " smart " for him.
I suppose it is useless to caution the public
against bogus advertisements, they having been
warned again and again. If a situation is
offered on the condition of the deposit or pay-
ment of a sum of money, no doubt a swindle is
intended. If a man who wants to lend money
Convicts and their Guardians. 113
is anxious first of all to handle the money of the
borrower, no doubt he is a swindler. If a very-
first-class pianc is offered for sale at a very
low price by a lone widow requiring immediate
funds, it may be set down as a swindle. If a
person " in misfortune " desires to dispose of the
duplicates of valuable jewellery which has been
pledged for a quarter of its value, the person
" in misfortune " is a sure swindler.
I have unfortunately had to live amongst
swindlers for six years, and have heard of a
great many of their tricks. One mean little
swindler told me that he made a fair living for
some time by inserting cheap advertisements of
a tempting character in the ClerJcenwell News
requiring that a stamp should he enclosed for
reply. Of course no reply was ever sent.
I came in contact at Portland, in 1874, with
Hilli one of the Yankee " skallewags " who
aided that clever engraver and "cannie Scot,"
Macgregor, in the gigantic forgeries on the Bank
of England. Hill asserts that he was a mere
clerk to Macgregor and the Bidwells, and seems
to have hopes that his friends will yet succeed
in getting an alteration of his sentence. He is
a very good prisoner, and I think has never been
I
114 Convict Life.
reported. He has always been under a strict
and special guard, and has been employed within
the precincts of the prison, the authorities fear-
ing a repetition of the attempts made in London.
Hill has I am sure given up all idea of escape,
and is doing his best to keep a good character,
so that he may at least secure his freedom at
the end of twenty years.
Last year, at Dartmoor, I came in contact
with another of the party, the elder Bidwell.
He has pursued entirely different tactics to Hill,
and has given ten times more trouble to the
authorities than any prisoner has ever done
before. From the first he has steadily refused
to use his legs, asserting that they are paralysed.
As the doctors have used the batteries upon him
several times, they know that it is all a fraud.
Still he persists, and his legs are now no doubt
stiffened from misuse. If he could be compelled
to walk short distances at first, and then longer
ones, he could speedily obtain the use of his
limbs, but he is very obstinate ; and if the
authorities send him to the tailors' shop, or
anywhere else to work, they have to put him on
the back of another prisoner, and when he
arrives there he refuses to work. He has had
Convicts and their Guardians. 115
any amount of bread-and-water punisliment, and
has thoroughly deserved it, for in addition to
his laziness and obstinacy, and imposture, his
habits are of the most filthy and disgusting cha-
racter. He is not likely to live to come out of
prison again, but that is his own fault.
Apropos of swindles. I came in contact with
a good many of the " cadger " class who had
stepped over the cadging line and dropped into
felony. I was very much amused with the
story of an old brute named Chown, who came
from Torquay. He did a little swindle upon
that large-hearted, generous, and truly noble
lady, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts. I have no
doubt she is exposed to similar attacks every
day. It was Christmas-time, and the
Baroness was distributing her Christmas gifts.
He called, and was awarded half-a-sovereign.
Her ladyship asked the old rascal if he had a
wife, and he was ready with his artful lie, and
said that he had, and five children. He was told
to send her up. He found a woman of bad
character, took her up, and by a plausible and
piteous tale obtained another half-sovereign, a
piece of beef, two blankets and a cloak. I felt
that I should like to wring the neck of the old
I 2
116 Convict Life.
vagabond when I heard him chuckle over the
way in which he had done Lady " Cadet Boots,"
as he called her.
There were two or three beauties at work in
the same party with this fellow. I recollect one
contemptible hound who told me that he had not
been at liberty for three weeks before he was again
" lagged," and had not seen his wife or children.
He said he was on the drink, and as he had
cleared everything out of his home upon which
he could raise sixpence at the pawnshop, he
knew it was of no use to go there. His wife
had been slaving to get bread for five children,
and when he left his home he left it without
a crust. He told the tale himself ; of course he
had no shame, or he would not have lived to
tell it. He got up in the early morning and
sneaked out of the house with his wife's boots,
very indifferent ones, but the only ones in the
family, and invaluable to her, for without them
she could not go to her labour and get scant
bread for the children of this drunken savage.
Upon these boots he raised ninepence at the
pawnbroker's, and spent it at the next tavern
for gin.
This wretch was in the church choir at
Convicts and their Guardians. 117
Portland, and took tlie Sacrament regularly.
I wonder it did not choke him. I have
heard him say that the first use he should
make of his gratuity on his discharge would be
to get a quart of beer and a quartern of gin,
and in that, if in nothing else, I have no doubt
he will keep his word. In the face of such
evidence who can wonder at the earnestness
and enthusiasm of Sir Wilfrid Lawson ? I
wish him God-speed with all my heart.
During the whole time of my imprisonment
I kept my ears wide open to glean all that I
could from criminals themselves about the causes
of crime. I cannot avoid the conclusion that gin-
palaces are but half-way houses on the road to
a convict prison. In them the victim lays in
fresh supplies, which help him to complete his
journey.
If men would use their wits, and keep their
heads cool, they would ascertain that, if they
really desire to possess a good conscience, a
peaceful home, and happiness in the future,
there is no highway to these luxuries through
the tavern or the gin-palace. If they will but
open the eyes of their reason wide enough,
they may see inscribed over the door of every
118 Convict Life.
gas-bedizened and flaunting gin-palace in the
land this inscription, " No Thoroughfare to
Honesty or Happiness."
This drink and tavern curse is not confined to
the lower class. Let me give the instance of two
young men whom I saw at Dartmoor. The first
was in a mercantile house in the City. He be-
came enamoured with one of the painted and
powdered decoy-ducks who are on exhibition at
the premises of a notorious publican within a
mile of Kegent Circus. At first he spent a shilHng
or two nightly; but he quickly found that the
road to favour with his inamorata was a bottle of
Moet, of which she and her painted sisters par-
took fi^eely, very often a second bottle, and then
a third. The acquaintance soon ripened ; excited
with the champagne, a diamond ring was pro-
mised, then an emerald, then ear-drops and a
bracelet.
On Sunday a trap was hired, and this young
man, who had a loving mother and sisters at
home, and a virtuous young sweetheart who was
breaking her loving heart over him, disported
himself at Richmond in the company of a gin-
drinking and beer-drawing harlot. He told me
himself that, from the time he first went to that
Convicts and their Guardians. 119
tavern he never went to bed perfectly sober, and
that all his follies were committed under the
influence of champagne. He at last robbed his
employers in order to obtain money to supply
this woman with dress and jewels and champagne,
and he is now ruminating over his wickedness on
the bogs of Dartmoor.
He had the mortification to learn from a friend,
while awaiting his trial, that his inamoratai whom
he supposed would be weeping over his downfall,
used to sell his presents to keep a lazy, drunken
husband, with whom she lived, after tavern hours,
in a dingy lodging in Dean Street, Soho. He
was also informed that his corner in the bar
had already been filled up by another ninny,
which ninny has probably by this time arrived
at the same depot.
The other fellow was one for whom I felt really
sorry. At the time of his conviction he was on
the eve of passing an examination for one of the
learned professions ; but he had been an Tiahitue
of the bufiet of what I will call the " Royal Grill
Room" Theatre, and a lounger at the stage-door
of that celebrated establishment. He made the
acquaintance of one of the "ladies of the ballet,"
a party whose mother probably lived in " Short's
120 Convict Life.
Gardens," or "Fullwood's Rents," and who had
been taught to drink gin from her babyhood in
the purlieus of Drury Lane.
The "young lady" had learned her lesson.
When invited to supper she declined everything
but " fizz." Her suppers and those of her lover
often amounted to a sovereign and a half. She
was so good a customer to the landlord that a
good word was spoken for her to the manager ;
and, as her lover, under the influence of cham-
pagne, promised to provide for her the hand-
somest dress and boots that the costumier could
provide, she was promoted to the front row of
the ballet. Here, adorned by jewellery her lover
had committed forgery to obtain, and set off
to the best advantage by the dress, boots, and
tights he had bought for her, she attracted
the attention of the Hon. Arthur Numskull, of
the Crutch and Toothpick brigade. She gave her
old friend the cold shoulder at once, and he had
the mortification to see her handed into the
Hon. Arthur's brougham when the theatre closed.
He went to the Royal Grill-room buffet and got
drunk by himself that night. Going to his
chamber in a maudlin state, he forgot to take
some precaution which would have deferred the
Convicts and their Guardians. 121
revelation of his crime, and about twelve the
next day, and before he was sober, he was in
Newgate.
These are stern, hard facts, and I learned them
from the men themselves while under punish-
ment, afflicted with remorse, and after they had
had time calmly to reflect upon their conduct.
Of course entanglements with women of this
sort are always effected under the influence
of liquor. A sober man who did such things
would be sent by his friends to a lunatic
asylum, and ought to be.
I have set these things down because I know
that there are hundreds of young men in London
travelling the same road. These lessons ought
to warn them. They may take my word for
it, a convict prison is a very hell to a man of
any culture and refinement ; herding with
" Zulus " and *' Yahoos " can be nothing to it ;
and after release worse still will be their fate : no
character, no home, no friends, no employment.
I say to them with all my heart, in the name
of Grod, " turn up " taverns.
122 Convict Life.
CHAPTER VI.
CONVICTS AND THEIE GUARDIANS: PRISON
PUNISHMENTS, ETC.
THERE are a great number of what are called
" confidence men " in convict prisons, and
I think they invariably belong to the incorrigible
class. Their assumption, in prison as well as
out, and their unblushing impudence are un-
bounded. I met two of these fellows at Port-
land, and, as I have heard of them both since
their release, it may be interesting to show that
crime is, in some men, ingrained.
One of them had, I believe, really borne her
Majesty's commission in early life. He called
himself Captain Logan, and had served two
terms of penal servitude. He always obtained
the means of living when he happened to be
free by sheer bounce and bravado. He obtained
goods from credulous shopkeepers by seeming
to take it for granted that he was known as
a man of fortune and family, and that to doubt
Convicts and their Guardians. 123
him was an unpardonable insult. He of course
raised money upon everything he obtained at
the nearest pawnbrokers. Now and then he
overdid the thing and was " trapped."
The sentence which he finished while I was
at Portland was, I think, one of twelve years,
sufficient, one would imagine, to cure any man
of ordinary intelligence or feeling. Not at all,
as the sequel will show. In prison his great
object seemed to be to earn the title of a
" dare-devil. *' He set all prison rules at de-
fiance, and treated the authorities with con-
tempt. He never did any work, and so earned
no remission. He was continually under punish-
ment, and did 850 days of his sentence upon
bread and water : at least, he was supposed
to have done. The fact was, that during his
whole sentence he had friends outside who
were foolish enough, through corrupt officers,
to supply him with the means of pampering
his appetite. He was never without tobacco,
and with tobacco he could purchase anything.
I regret to say that with a large number of
" screws " he was the most popular prisoner
at the station. In the absence of the higher
officials he simply did as he hked.
124 Convict Life.
In the society of gentlemen, or educated
men of ordinary acumen, this fellow would
not have passed muster at all. Whatever may
have been the respectability of his family, he was
an ignorant, vulgar fellow. He sometimes would
sneak up by my side at the Sunday exercise, but
he always afflicted me with nausea. Still, he was
wonderfully successful in imposing upon the
unsophisticated and upon partially educated men.
There was a fellow at Portland belonging
to the middle class, a man of tolerable, but
partial education. He was affianced to a young
lady who had some property which was under
lier own control, and his only hope for the
future was in marrying her, and, aided by
lier fortune, making a fresh start in some
colony. He was so anxious to communicate
with her, that he was weak enough to com-
mission any tolerably-educated prisoner who
was discharged to call upon her with messages.
I knew his weakness, and seeing him in close
conversation with Logan one Sunday I warned
him against the man. It was of no use, he
was sure Logan was a " gentleman " and would
not deceive him. He certainly did not deceive
me. As I expected, his first act after arriving
Convicts and their Guardians. 125
in London was to seek out the girl. He first
obtained some money from her to "relieve
the necessities of her friend in prison." After
a little further acquaintance he told her that
he felt so deep an interest in her that he
could not help, for her sake, betraying his
friend at Portland. He assured her that her
lover had confided to him the secret that he
did not care for her, but that marriage was
his only chance. This led up to his real object.
He did his best to entrap the poor girl into a
marriage with himself. I am very happy to say
that he not only failed in that, but that within
a few weeks he was again convicted. My only
regret is that the judge did not sentence him
to three dozen.
I must briefly refer to another confidence
man, because, by a remarkable coincidence, he
obtained the confidence of this " lover " I have
spoken of at Portland, and played almost pre-
cisely the same game with regard to the young
lady that Logan had done.
This man I have referred to incidentally be-
fore ; he was the promoter of bubble companies,
and the associate of a " fishy " baronet who
has been convicted of the same sort of thing.
126 Convict Life.
His great game was to obtain confidence by
organizing banquets and testimonials in bis own
honour. Having received instructions from his
fellow-prisoner he sought out the young lady
as soon as he arrived in London. He told a
very similar tale to the one concocted by Logan
as to the lover's duplicity. He invented a lie
as to his having been divorced from his wife,
the real fact being that in justice to her own
character the wife had been compelled to leave
him. He then did his best to entrap the young
lady into a bigamous marriage. He failed in this.
I was describing him to a gentleman high in
authority at Scotland-yard the other day, and he
told me that he believed they had got him again.
I hope he was not mistaken.
The " Claimant " had left Dartmoor for Ports-
mouth before my arrival at the former place. I
heard a good deal about him of course. He
is said to have given an infinity of trouble. His
applications to address the Home Secretary, and
to have interviews with Directors, governor,
doctor, and priest were incessant. He applied to
be admitted to the church choir for two reasons, —
he obtained a more comfortable seat, and he was
excused labour on Saturday mornings that he
Convicts and their Guardians. 127
might attend practice. The organist assured me
that he had no notion of singing, and that the
noise he made was something between the chirp
of a crow and the croak of a raven.
He was doing his best, by the aid of French
school-books furnished him by the priest, to
master the French language.
When the Claimant first went to Dartmoor he
seems to have had a good friend in the gentleman
who was at that time governor of the prison.
He was extremely troublesome, constantly
breaking prison rules, and being reported for
doing so ; but so long as the Major remained
in command, he was never punished, and, when
he received visits from his friends, the visits
took place, contrary to regulations, in the
governor's office, and extra time was allowed
him.
The advent of Captain Harris as governor was
a misfortune for the Claimant. I may here
take the opportunity of doing an act of sim-
ple justice to Captain Harris. I am quite
sure that if the son or brother of the
Secretary of State were a prisoner under his
control, he would be treated with precisely the
same indulgence as every other prisoner, and no
128 Convict Life.
more. The Claimant when next he received a
visit did so behind the bars, and within the
time specified by the rules. When reported for
insolence he was sentenced to two days' bread-
and- water, and he got a second punishment for
the same offence and some others. By the
doctor's orders he had 8 oz. of additional bread
per day and 8 oz. of potatoes, and on meat and
soup days he had increased rations.
I presume his friends induced the Home
Secretary to have him transferred to Ports-
mouth, where, I am told, he is fetching a toler-
ably easy "lagging." Perhaps the air there is
not so bracing, but at Dartmoor his appetite was
enormous. I know men employed in the tailor's
shop who did not need all their food, and who
gave him some constantly ; and the orderlies
who carried round the bread were in the habit
of yielding to his entreaties to shy him a loaf, if
a " good screw " happened to be on duty. By
the way, a " good screw," amongst prisoners,
means a man who does 7iot do his duty. I knew
a little Irishman who told me that one day he
was able to give the Claimant six six - ounce
loaves, and that he came very near getting three
days as a reward for his good nature.
Convicts and their Guardians. 129
The big man was very unpopular with some
of his neighbours, who say that he was a bad
sleeper, and used to puff and blow, and grunt
and groan all through the small hours. He
was unpopular with the warders because it was
with the greatest difficulty he could be got
to scrub his cell, or keep his cell-furniture clean.
Before turning from, the prisoners to the
officers, I will take the opportunity to warn
benevolent and well - meaning religious people
against the pretensions of prisoners, who, on
their discharge, set up for converted characters,
and seek to be employed in evangelization.
God forbid that I should deny the' possibility
of a man who has erred being truly penitent,
and desirous of pursuing for the rest of his life
a course of industry and honour. Such is, I
hope, my own case, and I j&rmly believe that I
have met with others who have determined that,
come what will, their life shall for the future be
one of inflexible integrity.
But when scamps who have been in and out
of prison a score of times, and are so well known
to the police that they can scarcely hope to escape
detection if they continue their old practices,
take up a new line in which to pursue their
K
130 Convict Life.
roguery, and try to cant themselves into the
position of missionaries and Scripture-readers,
they are surely not to be trusted. Whenever the
missionary box or the " bag " is heavy enough
they will play a Judas trick upon it. Sincere
men will go honestly and quietly to earnest
labour, and prove their faith by their works. I
know a man who is at this moment in the tailor's
shop at Dartmoor. He has ingratiated himself
into the chaplain's favour by his assumed devo-
tion, and by regularly partaking of the Sacra-
ment. He has thoroughly made up his mind
that when released he will adopt the " religious
dodge," as he calls it. He says that he is sure, by
pulling the right wires, he can knock a living out
of pious dowagers by attempting the conversion
of the bog-men of Connemara, or organizing a
special mission for the thieves' -quarters in
Seven-dials or Kent-street. I am really afraid
he could find dupes to aid him. If he wants
a character or a recommendation, he shall have
it now.
I conscientiously believe that if his aged
mother had but half-a-crown in the world, and
was sleeping with it beneath her pillow for
safety, and that he knew her bread for the next
Convicts and their Guardians. 131
week depended on it, he would in the dead of
night sneak out with it, await the opening of an
early tavern, and remain until he had poured
half-a-crown's worth of the decoction sold there
down his villanous throat.
I am familiar with the history of the treachery
of Judas, and how he sold his Master for thirty
pieces of silver. After a long and involuntary
intimacy with the habitual criminals of England,
let me here register my firm conviction that the
man of whom I speak, and the great majority
of his associates in crime, would sell their own
sister for a quartern of gin, if no higher price
could be obtained.
Let me now have a say about some of the men
at present employed as prison warders ; and I
shall speak of prison punishments in the same
connection, because the two subjects are so inex-
tricably connected. A very large proportion of
them are discharged soldiers and sailors. Now I
am quite conscious that army reform has greatly
raised the moral status of soldiers during the last
fifteen years, but is it not a fact, that twenty or
twenty - five years ago the army was recruited
chiefly from the dregs of the population, largely
indeed from the very thief-class ? Scarcely any
K 2
132 Convict Life.
man enlisted until lie was barred from the ranks
of decency.
At the time these men served the Crown in
the army, — and indeed up to very recent times,
— the barrack-room was a rookery of im-
morality and vice ; and the men taken from
such a source are not very likely to exercise
a moralising influence upon prisoners ? The
Government takes the young off'ender, — " the
first-timer," the novice in crime, the man of
semi-respectability who has stumbled, — and it
puts him between two hot fires, which I do not
think are calculated to purify him. It gives
him as companions and tutors the habitual
criminals whose characters I have tried to de-
scribe, and it gives him as monitors and masters
a set of beings whose morals are of the loosest,
who have not the slightest respect for truth or
honour, and whose every-day language is almost
as filthy as that of the filthiest whom they are
paid to control. I have spoken of their corrup-
tion. During my stay at Dartmoor two had to
abscond to escape prosecution for felony, one was
actually a principal warder, and was associated in
his roguery by the chief clerk of the governor,
who also absconded. Then in matters of honour
Convicts and their Guardians. 133
and truthfulness, although, of course, there are
many, very many, honourable exceptions, yet the
rule is that officers will say anything before the
governor, if for any reason they desire to get a
prisoner punished, or if it is desirable in order
to exculpate themselves from blame.
If this class of warders had to control only the
habitual criminal, I do not think it would matter,
they could not reduce their standard of morality,
and they could scarcely do them an injustice.
If the Government adopt the recommendation
of the Commission as to a classification of
prisoners, let them, if they must retain the ser-
vices of this class of men, confine them to the
superintendence of the abandoned and the irre-
claimable, and seek the services of a higher and
better class of men to control those prisoners
who are not dead to all sense of shame and
decency, and who are amenable to good influences.
A case occurs to me which happened at Dart-
moor last winter. It came under my own
observation, for I knew both prisoner and officer,
and it happened while I was at work close to
the scene of it. A prisoner, Jones, — nicknamed
*' Parson Jones," — had fallen out from his party
to see the doctor. The assistant-warder, as was
134 Convict Life.
his duty, searched Parson Jones's clothes, and
found no prohibited articles in them. Shortly
after, the infirmary-warder came in, and gave
Jones's clothes another search, not knowing
that his subaltern had done so. He was smarter
than the assistant-warder, and found some brass
weights belonging to the infirmary scales in
the prisoner's pocket.
Now, to have stolen these was of course a very
serious offence, and would certainly subject the
prisoner to three days' bread-and-water, a month's
penal class diet, loss of three months' remission,
which is tantamount to three months' longer
imprisonment, and the loss of all his class
privileges, tea, letter- writing, &c. Fortunately for
the prisoner, and unfortunately for the corrupt
warder, the latter was seen by another officer to
deposit these weights in the prisoner's pocket.
The prisoner was able to prove that the officer
had more than once shown animosity towards
him, and he of course committed this dastardly
act to get the man unjustly punished.
Now, although this man was removed from his
post in the infirmary for a few months, he
has since been reinstated in his old position.
I venture to suggest that his retention in
Convicts and their Guardians. 135
the service is not calculated to inspire in
the minds of prisoners — or such of them as
have minds — a proper reverence and respect
for the system of morality and justice under
which they live.
The necessity for a more careful selection of
prison -warders has been forced upon the atten-
tion of the Department since I commenced to
pen these pages. A covey of convicts took flight
fi'om a hay-field at Dartmoor. The details of the
affair were specially interesting to me, because in
the summer of 1878 I was myself a haymaker
in the field from which the exodus took place.
The gang of convicts employed there on this
occasion was called " thirty-four " party, and
were in charge of two assistant-warders and a
*' civil guard," aU of whom were armed with
loaded rifles, and all of whom are well-known
to me.
The. senior, who had command of the party, is
a Devonian peasant, who entered the British
army at a time when recruits were not culled
from that section of the community which our
Yankee friends would call " high-toned."
He is a free-and-easy, baccy-and-beer-loving
old pensioner, who, if he can push through his
136 Convict Life.
duties without a fioe and get behind his pipe at
the " Spotted Dog " in Princetown, is happier
than the Queen he serves.
He has the character amongst convicts of being
a " square man " and " as right as a trivet " ; in
other words, the discipline in his regiment is so.
If a convict — an ordinary convict — speaks of
an officer as a good fellow, he means that he is
a man who does not do his duty, and will allow
prisoners to ev^de labour and break rules with
impunity. This officer is, I admit, a good-
natured fellow ; after dinner he is especially
good-natured, and, like many another old sol-
dier, he can lean upon his musket and take
" forty winks." He had the misfortune to have
as his assistant on the day in question a very
young officer who was not an " old soldier "
in any sense of the words, and who not long ago
was a wheelwright in a Devonshire village. He is
a well-intentioned, good-natured young country-
man, but it is doing him no injustice to say that
he is as green as was the grass which the
men he should have controlled had been vainly
trying to make into hay, and which I am credibly
informed was so bad in quality that it will be
spumed by every intelligent and well-bred horse.
Convicts nnd their Guardians. 137
The civil guard on the occasion I allude to was
not one of those ofl&cious persons who always
want to know what is going on. He was content
to chew his quid and let his eye wander over
the hills towards the paternal hut in dear old
Tavistock, and was probably at the moment of the
escapade contrasting his own distinguished posi-
tion as " an officer in her Majesty's service," in
receipt of an income of twenty-three shillings
per week, with that of his dear old plodding
brother, who was working ten times as hard for
half the money away over the moor.
A day or two ago I received a letter from
a prisoner of education, whom I can testify to be
one of the few convicts who may be expected to
seek readmission to the ranks of the virtuous
when he is released. His letter, of course, came
to me by the *' Underground Railroad." It will
be seen that he was attached to " thirty-four
party " at the time of the flight : —
" Daetmooe, 8th September J 1879.
" Dear ,
* * * * *
" I suppose there has been quite a ' flare-up '
138 Convict Life.
in tlie London newspapers about the recent
escapade. As you will recollect, I am attached
to "thirty-four party," so that I saw all the fun.
The escape had been planned during the day. I
was not invited to join in it because it was known
in the party that I had but a few months to
serve, and it would have been sheer madness to
risk three months' further detention for any such
' wild-goose chase.'
" It was, indeed, a wild-goose chase. I said
it was planned. There was, in fact, no plan ;
it was talked about, but the only agreement
was that each man was to take a different
route so as to divide the pursuing hounds. One
of the runaways, a man named Morgan, was
looked up to by the rest as an authority. He
had last year escaped from the custody of an
officer familiarly known as ' Billy Rowe.' On
that occasion he chose a foggy day, and actually
eluded his pursuers for three or four days, and
was finally captured by a baker in the neighbour-
hood of Plymouth. I may mention, incidentally,
that on that occasion a defect of vision and the
fog combined, caused warder * Billy Rowe ' to
mistake a brother officer for the runaway, and
to pepper Her Majesty's uniform with shot.
Convicts and their Guardians. 139
*' Convict Morgan assured his comrades that
his capture was all because he wandered to the
precincts of a great city, and that had he kept
to the open country, hiding by day and travelling
by night, he could have reached ' New Babylon '
and been lost in the mazes of Whitechapel.
" The vision of convicts, artful and cunning
as the majority of them are, seems to be ob-
fuscated when the very possibility of regaining
liberty is danced before their eyes. I pointed
out to them that the difficulties were insuperable,
that it was a perfectly clear night, and that
almost every object upon the moor for twenty
miles was visible. I also reminded them that
within a circle of five miles there was a perfect
cordon of labourers' huts, and that the only
possible and remote chance which any of the
denizens of these huts had of becoming the
possessor of a five-pound note was in catching
a convict.
" I suggested to them that Captain Harris, the
Governor, and Captain Johnson, the Deputy-Go-
vernor, had swift horses, and were probably dead-
shots with the rifle. I told them that a man in a
convict's dress who was known to be a thief or a
ruffian could not expect assistance or aid even if
140 Convict Life,
he got into the hands of those who would not be
tempted by a reward.
'* They were not to be balked in their scheme,
they meant to have a try for it, and they did ; a
very foolish and sorry try it was. I quite agree
with a remark whicli I heard principal warder
Rundle make the next morning, that if the officers
in charge had been at all awake to their duty no
such escapade would have been possible. We
had stacked our rakes and forks, so that we were
entirely unarmed, and three officers armed with
loaded rifles were in charge of us. We were
unwisely allowed to go alone to the hedge, which
was at a considerable distance, to fetch our
clothes.
" ' Now is our chance ! ' said Morgan, and
over the hedge went the , conspirators. As I
was one who remained behind I could take stock
of the officers in charge. They were supposed to
be * on guard.' I must say I never saw men
so completely taken * ofi" their guard.* They
looked very like the historical * stuck ' animal,
the brothers and sisters of which they are far
better qualified to take charge of than of convicts.
Had the capture depended upon these officers, or
even of their brother warders, the convicts might
Convicts and their Guardians. 141
to-day be starving in some ditch across these
barren moors, instead of revelling as they are at
this moment in a pint of good thick shin-of-beef-
soup, a pound of potatoes, and six ounces of bread,
at the expense of British taxpayers.
" But of their escape there was no fear.
Thirty or forty Devonshire labourers had heard
the alarm-whistle and the signal gun. They
were soon joined by others, and in strong parties
started in pursuit. They are wise in their gene-
ration, these Devon peasants, and not ambitious
of making a name for themselves by the exhi-
bition of individual prowess. They hunted in
gangs, thinking it far wiser not to risk single-
handed an encounter with desperadoes. I think
I may safely say that for the reward for each cap-
ture there will be at least half-a-dozen claimants.
Let no man for the future say that good never
comes out of evil. A score or more of poor
Devonians have anticipated Michaelmas and be-
come the joyful possessors of a whole golden
sovereign ; perhaps some poor slipshod daughter
will get a new pair of boots, and then she will
dream that the golden age has come, and that
there have been two harvests in one year.
" We, cowards, who did not desert the flag,
142 Convict Life.
were marched back to tlie prison under guard.
We found on our way back, and on arriving at
the prison, that the soul of each official was * in
arms, and eager for the fray.' On the road we
met an excited, pale-faced youth, who, I believe,
is a compounder of drugs in the medical depart-
ment. He was flourishing a double-barrel shot-
gun in a most alarming manner, and was ex-
claiming, perhaps under the influence of some
potent drug, * Which way have they gone ?
Who will I shoot ? ' He has been the butt of a
good many jokes since; for it was discovered
when the time came to shoot that he had left his
ammunition-pouch at his quarters. I have great
hopes of obtaining from a kind-hearted official,
who is handy with his pencil and his camera, a
sketch or two in connection with this ' flight
of convicts,' which will amuse the public if
published.
" Of course, you know that the runaways were
all caught. Last Friday Director Morrish came
down to Dartmoor redolent with the odour of
Whitehall, and armed in all the majesty of a
supreme Judge. In accordance with his sen-
tence five of the men received * two dozen ' each
with the * cat,' and the other three, whom the
Convicts and their Guardians. 143
doctors would not pass for tlie * cat,' were
* birclied.'
" Speaking of the * cat,' I hear that the public
mind has been very much exercised lately on the
subject of the * cat ' ; and, so far as our gallant
soldiers and sailors are concerned, I should, be
glad to see its use dispensed with. Allow me, at
the same time, to assure you that to abolish its
use in the convict service would be a blunder.
I think you will agree with me that it is the only
thing that prevents the ' old lags ' from com-
mitting many acts of violence. No sentence of
penal servitude frightens them. Both you and I
have heard them say they can * do it on their
heads.' They are, however, all arrant cowards,
and they stand in mortal dread of the ' cat.' I
cannot think, old friend, that there can be any
cruelty in administering moderate doses of it to
some of the brutes you and I are acquainted
with here, especially when we remember that
they live by systematic plunder when free. I feel
very certain that nothing but the fear of the
* cat ' prevents them from setting the authorities
at defiance when they are in prison.
" I saw the runaways this morning in their
yellow dresses ; they are breaking stones, which
144 Convict Life.
I hope will be used to mend the road between
here and the railway-station before I go home,
for I am told it is in a horrible state.
" This morning the governor received from
Parliament-street the decision of the directors as
to the punishment of the officers who were in
charge of the runaways. They are each fined
10s., and reduced to probation-class for three
months, so that their pay will be decreased for that
period; and our old friend will have to cur-
tail the number of his visits to the ' Spotted Dog.'
'' I must say good-bye, old fellow, and seal up
my despatch ; for I expect the postman every
minute. — Believe me your obliged friend.
I have spoken incidentally of prison punish-
ments— I mean penalties inflicted for a breach of
prison discipline — and I have said that these fall
the most heavily on the unsophisticated. I will
here add that these punishments are constantly
inflicted for ofiences which are certainly not
crimes, and that therefore some strict rules ought
to control governors, who at present exercise
unrestrained power.
Convicts and their Guardians. 145
A man "who has been deprived of all knowledge
of what has been going on in the world for half-
a-dozen years picks up a piece of an old news-
paper a few inches square which has been blown
on to the works at Portland from the neighbouring
barracks. Not being an old gaol-bird, with his
eyes and ears everywhere, he is detected in the
act of reading it, taken before the governor, and
sentenced to three days' bread-and-water diet in
a punishment-cell, deprived of a portion of his
clothing and all his bedding, reduced to an inferior
class for three months, which modifies his diet
and deprives him of the privilege of communi-
cating with, or being visited by, his relatives,
and he is fined a number of marks, the efi*ect
of which is to keep him a fortnight longer
in prison.
It is sometimes an infraction of prison rules to
do things which are absolutely a necessity, and
which I have yet seen frequently punished by
deprivation of food and loss of marks. It. is,
of course, at the option of warders to report men
for such ofiences, or not to report them. An
officer having charge of a ward, and who has in
any of his cells a prisoner who is obnoxious to
him, can always make an occasion to get rid of
L
146 Convict Life.
him, and many are unscrupulous enough to exer-
cise their " Httle brief authority."
When a prisoner is reported and punished, he is
removed to what are called the " separate cells,"
and when his two or three days of punishment
have expired the cell he formerly occupied has
found a new tenant, and he probably goes to
another ward, and often to quite a different part
of the prison. It is quite common, therefore,
for unprincipled officers to make reports against
prisoners whom they consider troublesome. I
have heard more than one officer promise a
prisoner that he would " get rid of him."
One Sunday morning, I think it was in 1875,
but as diaries are not allowed in convict prisons
I cannot fix the exact date, an event occurred in
what is called E hall, at Portland, which should
have been a stern rebuke to the class of officers
who misuse the power with which they are
invested.
A very young man named Wills, of for-
mer respectability and of some education and
intelligence, was the occupant of a cell upon the
top landing of the hall. He had been suffering
for several weeks from diarrhoea, and had been on
more than one occasion subjected to punishment
Convicts and their Guardians. 147
for committing an act which it was quite impos-
sible for him to avoid. . ' •
On this Sunday morning he repeated the so-
called offence under necessity, and his warder
notified him that on Monday morning he should
report him to the governor. Poor young Wills
had nearly completed his sentence ; he had but a
few weeks to serve ; his anxious and heart-broken
mother was making preparation to welcome home
her prodigal son; he was counting the days
which stood between him and freedom; his
prison spoon had served him for a " wooden
calendar," and he had just scored off with childish
glee " the daily notch."
To be taken before the governor on Monday
morning was to be condemned to at least another
week of imprisonment. The threat was too horrible
to the poor boy ; he was in exceedingly delicate
health, — consumption had wasted his frame ; he
had told me that the highest of his hopes for this
world was that he might be restored to freedom,
in order to die in his mother's arms. Another
week ! The thought was too dreadful for a mind
weakened by a combination of disease, dissi-
pation, and remorse. He could be patient no
longer under "hope deferred." He made one
L 2
148 Convict Life.
spring over the balustrade, and his body lay upon
the flags below ; the leap was as from the top of
a four-story house, and it was fatal. He was
carried to the infirmary, and, when the prison-
bell tolled for vespers, he had gone to his ever-
lasting rest.
I recollect this young Wills very well some
seven years ago. He was at that time a clerk in
the office of a Covent Garden hotel, which was
once the resort of the " famous" who desired to
beguile the witching hour, but is now, I believe,
a favourite rendezvous of a very different class.
The boy was often thrown into the society of
sporting men ; he became " horsey," and " made
a book." I have just spoken the epilogue to his
drama of life.
I may tell of another instance of the exercise
of arbitrary power on the part of warders which
more nearly affected myself, and which lengthened
the time of my incarceration by some six weeks.
I had a great desire to improve the hours which I
had to spend in my cell, and when I could obtain
a volume which contained selections from the
works of the great poets I was accustomed to
memorize them.
To copy them would, of course, greatly facili-
Convicts and their Guardians. 149
tate my object, but prison regulations forbid botli
pencil and writing-paper. As "love" — akin in
this respect to burglars — *' laughs at locksmiths,"
so prisoners laugh at prohibitions of this sort.
Brown wrapping-paper, which was served out for
necessary purposes, I converted into tablets, and
a small piese of common plumber's lead which I
had picked up upon the works did duty for a
pencil. I scribbled away for many weeks, and,
with the aid of these accessories, drummed many
thousands of lines from Shakspeare and Milton,
and "Wordsworth and Shelley, and dear little Keats,
into my memory. A very good fellow had charge
of the landing on which my cell was situated ; he
had watched "my little game," and having satis-
fied himself that, although a breach of prison-
rules, it was yet harmless, he had allowed me to
pursue " the even tenor of my way."
One morning I missed his friendly face. He
had gone " on leave" for a week. His place was
supplied by a plausible, but cadaverous-looking
" screw," who had been constantly reported and
fined by the governor for derelictions of duty. It
was no doubt a very important thing for him to
distinguish himself, if possible ; but I must say
that I was exceedingly sorry to be the stepping-
150 Convict Life.
stone on his way back to official favour. I cannot
tell whether or no some prisoner gave him " the
tip," but in my absence at chapel he made a raid
on my cell, and in one of the folds of my ham-
mock discovered the implements which were
aiding my acquirements in literature.
It was a grand foray for him. He established
his reputation for 'cuteness, and his former little
peccadilloes were condoned. For me the result
was not so cheerful. Governor Clifton came to the
conclusion that I was trying to acquire knowledge
in a dangerous way, and thought it wise to cool
my courage and reduce my energies by a little
enforced abstinence. I was sentenced to three
days upon bread-and-water, to be succeeded by
fourteen days of penal-class diet, the loss of all
my class privileges, letter-writing, tea, &c., &c.,
and to be deprived of the use of all books for
three months ; and, worst of all, I was fined as
many marks as would add six weeks to the time
of my imprisonment.
A good warder, who really would have reported
any prisoner guilty of a wrong act, had winked at
my harmless infraction of a hard-and-fast rule.
An incompetent officer, who was at the time in
bad odour, and who had himself broken half the
Convicts and their Guardians. 151
rules of the service, was able to win laurels
by making me Ms victim. I regret to say
that this was not the only instance in my
own prison history of the exercise of dangerous
power on the part of warders for petty and
selfish motives.
During the term of my imprisonment I was
never reported for the use of bad language, or for
laziness, or for talking with other prisoners, or
for the possession of tobacco, or for any of the
other crimes for which prisoners are very pro-
perly punished ; but I was, nevertheless, detained
in prison nearly seven months longer than I
ought to have been, in order to atone for so-called
offences, the morality of which could not be con-
demned by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself.
I saw several instances of punishment at Dart-
moor which I certainly thought most barbarous.
Men employed in the tailors' or shoemakers' shops
have no great appetite for their food, whilst others
who are at out-door work upon the moor are
ravenous. The former would out of sheer kind-
ness frequently throw half-a-pound of their bread
to the hungry ones, but if caught doing so by
the oflBcer on duty, they are taken before the
governor, and sentenced to undergo the punish-
152 Convict Life.
ment I have described in connection with the
newspaper.
A man scarcely able to read or write wishes to
send a letter to his anxious wife at home ; he gets
his more educated neighbour to compose a letter
for him on his slate, which he can afterwards tran-
scribe. They are detected, and both sentenced
to the "three days" with the etceteras. On the
day for distributing the library books an educated
prisoner will perhaps get some childish tale, and
his next-door neighbour, who cannot read will
get Milton's immortal epic ; an exchange is made,
the crime is discovered, and the bread-and-water
with their concomitants follow. These things
occur every day, and I respectfully suggest that
their influence is to harden and barbarize the
prisoner, and to destroy all feelings of reverence
for the authorities.
When the question of prison punishments
came up in the House of Commons in the
session of 1879 Mr. Cross succeeded in mysti-
fying his assailants, who of course had no
practical experience of the working of the
system. He told them that in the county prisons
he had put it out of the power of governors to
inflict bread-and-w^ater diet for a longer period
Convicts and their Cruardians. 153
than twenty-four hours, that is, twenty-four
hours at a time, but even under this regulation
a man may be sentenced to four days' bread-
and-water out of seven, there being one day
intervening between each punishment. But
let it be understood that in convict prisons no
such restriction exists. There, a man may still
be sentenced to three days' bread-and-water on
the Saturday. On the Tuesday he would come
off punishment, and get a day's second-class diet,
but could be reported again on that day, and
sentenced to three days more, which would
commence on the Wednesday; he would then
come off punishment on Saturday, and after
getting one day's second-class diet, could be
sentenced to anotlier three days.
I have known many prisoners to do twenty-one
days out of a month upon bread-and-water, and
in every case the victim was a man unaccustomed
to prison discipline, who had been made a mark
by some prison-warder anxious for promotion,
and who had goaded the poor fellow into using
violent and threatening language. The old
thieves, as I have said, never fall into these traps,
and, on account of the combination existing
amongst them, they are let alone by nine out of
154 Convict Life.
ten of the officers. When one of these attempts
to do his duty with the professional thieves he
gets murdered, or very nearly so, as in the case
of poor Luscombe ; and so it will be whilst the
present system of association affords the oppor-
tunity for conspiracy.
A few months ago a poor mulatto youth was
transferred to Dartmoor prison from Portsmouth.
He had there got into trouble, first over a piece
of tobacco not bigger than a sixpence. An officer
made a "mark" of him, seeing that he was a
green hand, and got him punished over and over
again. At last he carried his animosity too far.
The fellow's black: blood was roused, and he struck
his enemy. He was flogged, and sent in chains
to Dartmoor. There the whole brood of officers,
or "screws," as the "lags" call them, got down
upon him ; he was reported time after time, and
during the early part of this year he had existed
for fifty days out of three months upon bread-and-?
water, and in the middle of March I left him in
the hospital in a very precarious state, as the
result of his punishment.
There are men punished every day at all the
stations for the possession of tobacco. It is con-
sidered by the governors and directors (next to
Convicts and their Guardians. 155
the striking of an ofi&cer) as the most flagrant
breach of prison discipline, and yet every particle
of tobacco which finds its way to a prisoner must
do so through the hands of warders, or other
Government servants. It will be seen how dan-
gerous a power is thus put into the hands of a
band of men, for the most part illiterate and un-
principled. If an officer, as is often the case, and
of which the infirmary warder to whom I have re-
ferred, is an example, takes a dislike to a well-
conducted novice in crime, who avoids association
alike with prisoners and officers, he may have no
real ground of complaint against him, but he has
only to drop a quarter of an inch of tobacco in
the man's cell, and instruct another officer to find
it, and the prisoner is sure of a most severe
punishment. I have hnoivn this to be practised V
upon a man who never used tobacco in his life,
and who certainly never willingly had any in his
possession.
There is a warder still in the service, and on
duty at Dartmoor, who being very desirous to get
a man into trouble, one morning, when searching
him on parade, put his hand into the jacket
pocket, produced a mite of tobacco, exclaiming,
"I thought I smelt it." I, and several other
156 Convict Life.
prisoners, knowing the accused and the accuser,
were thoroughly satisfied that the tobacco was
between the fingers before the hand went into
the pocket ; but the prisoner was reported, he
was sentenced to three days' bread-and- water ;
he then got three days more for making a false
accusation against the officer, and a further three
days for impertinence to the governor. He was
then put into close confinement for twenty-one
days upon penal-class diet, which is about half-
way between bread- and- water and full diet; he
was not allowed to write to, or hear from, his
wife and children for nine months, and he was
sentenced to lose a number of marks which he
had earned by industry and good conduct, such
loss meaning a detention in prison for three addi-
tional months. This man had never been in prison
before, and of this offence I am certain he was
not guilty.
I admit that a governor cannot take a
prisoner's evidence against an officer's, but I
submit that so dangerous a power should not be
placed in the hands of such a class as fill the
office of prison-warders.
Surely it is the duty of governors and direc-
tors to make some very stringent regulations
Convicts and their Gkiardians. 157
which shall prevent officers bringing tobacco
into convict prisons, or else abstain from visiting
the possession of it by prisoners with such severe
punishment. A man accustomed to the use of
tobacco would need have some moral courage
to refuse it when offered him, and if, as is often
the case, it is put into his possession against his
will, and he is then punished, he naturally ceases
to have any respect for the law or its admini-
strators. Of course I know many prisoners are
only too ready to obtain tobacco in any way.
I knew twenty or thirty prisoners at Portland,
and as many at Dartmoor, who were, through
theii' relatives, paying officers at the rate of
thirty shillings per pound for tobacco. These
were old thieves, who knew the ropes and were
too cunning to be caught ; but the existence
of the traffic does not speak very highly for the
"morale of the officers employed or for the sharp-
ness of their superiors.
Old gaol-birds are not often caught in this
tobacco business, they are too wary and too
lynx-eyed ; and, besides that, I am sorry to
say they stand on too friendly a footing with
the warders who have charge of them, and
whose duty it is to report them. A large
158 Convict Life.
proportion of tlie warders seem to deal with
men who have done two or three laggings as
old and familiar friends, instead of trying, as
they should do, to make the prison a very hot
place for them.
Before leaving this part of the question, I will
just say that while I hold that convicts are not
made to work half hard enough, and that there
is very little fault to be found with the diet,
I think there are many abuses connected with
the infliction of prison punishments which re-
quire to be remedied. Some governors seem to
have a mania for inflicting the bread-and- water
punishment, and they do this for so-called ofiences
which are certainly not crimes.
Surely, men who are appointed to the office of
governor, and who are entrusted with so much
dangerous power, should be carefully selected,
and should know how to temper not only mercy,
but reason with justice. Of course the governors
are not all alike. The present estimable and
admirable governor of Millbank Prison inflicts
less punishments in a year than others do in a
month with the same number of men. When he
is absent for a week's leave, the number of pun-
ishments is at once increased by his subaltern.
Convicts and their Ckiardians. 159
and certainly without any improvement in tlie
good order and discipline of the prison.
On reading this description of " prison punish-
ment," some one will exclaim, "Where are the
directors of the convict department, whose duty
it is to visit prisons, and hear the complaints of
prisoners?" Six years in penal servitude have
convinced me that the ten thousand pounds
appropriated to this department is a fraud upon
the taxpayers. There are ten convict prisons.
I am sure that one thoroughly competent and
conscientious man might visit all these prisons,
inspect the food suppHed and all the internal
arrangements, hear the appeals and complaints
of prisoners, remedy many abuses, and save many
thousands a year to the public.
The four or five ornamental gentlemen for
whom it has been necessary to find a billet, and
who now fill the office of directors, are supposed
to visit each prison once a month ; in reality,
they manage so as to make about eleven visits in
a year. No visiting director has more than two
country prisons to attend to. The day before he
makes his visit a telegram informs the governor
of his advent, the yards are swept up, the
governor puts on his " Lincoln & Bennett " or
160 Convict Life.
" Christy," the chief warder dons his belt and
sword ! the old soldiers amongst the warders put
on all their medals, the soup in one of the coppers
is made a little thicker than usual, and the great
man arrives. He walks round the prison with
the governor.
As when the governor goes his rounds, so
with the director, the principal warders give
the ofiice to the warders, and the warders tele-
graph to the assistant- warders that the director
approaches ; he is assured that everything is
right. He sees what it is intended he should
see, and nothing more. Much in the same
way that an audience at a theatre witnesses a
drama; he sees and knows nothing about the
wires, and the ropes, and the traps, and the
wings ; he sees only what is made visible by
the footlights.
The delusion over, he proceeds to the judg-
ment-room to listen to the complaints of
prisoners, and to hear charges against ofl&cers
and prisoners which are of a serious nature, and
which have been reserved for his judgment. In
the six years of my experience I knew of many
acts committed by governors which could
scarcely be regarded as just, but never one
Convicts and their Guardians. 161
single instance of the injustice being rectified by
the director. Every prisoner who goes before
the director with a complaint is, to use a prison
phrase, " choked ofi*." The director is merely
ornamental. He makes a formal visit of two
or three hours' duration eleven times a year, in
order to father everything that the governor has
done.
In fair round belly, with good capon lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modem instances,
He plays his part
He nods, he eats eleven luncheons at the ex-
pense of the governor or the country,^! know
not which, — praises the claret, nods again, and has
then earned his thousand pounds. This will con-
tinue until men are selected for different reasons
and in a different way.
The gentleman who is the visiting director of
two of the most important convict prisons, —
Portland and Dartmoor, — has held office either as
governor or director for many years. He was
entrusted with the important duties appertaining
to these offices, shortly after a madman named
Oxford had made an attack upon the Queen.
I believe that he effected the arrest of the
162 Convict Life.
culprit, and so entitled himself to some reward ;
but I submit that this service should not have
been considered a sufficient qualification for the
important duties which he has been called upon
to fulfil during the last thirty years or more.
Convict Life. 163
CHAPTER yil.
EBFOEMATOBY AND SANATOEY.
I THINK it is not generally known, and the
matter seems to have altogether escaped the
notice of the Commission which has recently
reported, that about one-third of the cells at
Portland, more than one-half of the cells at
Dartmoor, and corresponding numbers at other
country stations, are what the prisoners not
unreasonably call " dark cells " ; they have no
direct light ; all that they have is borrowed from
the corridor or hall into which they open.
In the evening, even in the summer-time, it is
quite impossible to read in them, and it is only
with the greatest difficulty that a man with good
eyes can see to read at noon; the only time,
therefore, which a prisoner occupying these cells
has for reading is in the winter, and by gaslight.
This, however, is not the greatest evil con-
nected with them. A very large proportion of
M 2
164 Convict Life.
the prisoners belong to that class who " love
darkness rather than light, because their deeds
are evil," and these dark cells are a cover for all
sorts of immorality and indecency, about which I
cannot be more communicative. Light and air
are moral as well as physical necessaries.
Then the cells of which I speak are exceedingly
small, and only divided from each other by a thin
sheet of corrugated iron ; a man with good ears
can listen to his neighbour's yarns even without
the aid of a " chat-hole." It is the custom, how-
ever, for prisoners to bore a small hole through
the partition, near to the ground, through which
the chat takes place. The one prisoner lies down
on the ground and talks and listens, with his
mouth or ear to the chat-hole ; his neighbour sits
at the window, which opens on to the landing
along which the officer in charge walks. If he
approaches, a knock from the watcher causes the
chat to be suspended until he has passed, when it
commences again.
The separate system, while these cells are tole-
rated, is altogether a farce. If two old thieves
are next door to each other, the filthy conver-
sation which takes place may be imagined. All
sorts of villanies and conspiracies are concocted
Beformatorij and Sanatory. 165
in these dark cells, and if the man on either side
of the " chatters " happens to be a novice in
crime, he has the opportunity of taking lessons
in rascality. If he be a man of any decency his
attention is diverted from his book, if he happen
to have a light and could otherwise read it.
These thieves, too, are the most persistent
talkers that can possibly be imagined ; they are
constitutionally law-breakers, and the fact that
talking is prohibited is with them a sufficient
reason for talking without ceasing, and such talk !
I had the misfortune to have one of the vaga-
bonds next me at Portland. He was not only a
moral but a physical nuisance; the effluvium which
was exhaled from his body, and which was, I
presume, the result of neglected disease, found
its way through the chinks of my cell and dis-
gusted me ; while the emanations of his mouth
were filthy beyond description, and would have
created a moral pestilence anywhere.
I recollect a little of the family history which
this fellow repeated to me, and which is very
characteristic of the estimation in which virtue
and purity are regarded by all his class. He said
that he had heard through " a pal of his who had
been recently ' lagged,' that his old woman was
166 Convict Life.
living with another bloke." His great anxiety
seemed to be to find out if she would be willing to
come back to him on his discharge. He said she
was a valuable old " " to him, for she was
cook at a restaurant in the City, and she always
brought home enough "junk" and "toke" to
fill his carcase, and he had all his thievings for
liquor. He also regaled me, very much against
my will, with descriptions of his marauding expe-
ditions. I certainly had every opportunity to
learn the trade of a sneak-thief.
At another time I had a neighbour who had
heard fi:'om somebody that I had some respect-
able connections. The scoundrel seriously pro-
posed that, after we were both released, I should
" put him up" to getting anything I saw in
places to which I had the entree. He was willing
to take all the risk, and I was to go halves in the
plunder.
Now, only think, there are hundreds of youths
and young men convicted every year for the first
time; many men of all ages, who have some
human feehngs, which even ignorance and drink
and sin have not eliminated ; men who have a
common nature which could be impressed, minds
which could be instructed, sympathies which
Reformatory and Sanatory. 167
could be drawn back to virtue, and souls wMcli
miglit be purified and restored.
The Government takes each of these unfortu-
nates and puts him into a dark cell, where his
only possible occupation is to talk to a profes-
sional villain, and be by him initiated into the
mysteries and advantages of a dishonest life. A
poor wretched agricultural labourer is made
the near neighbour, night and day, of a
scoundrel who qualifies him and renders him
capable of committing a burglary at the resi-
dence of his old employer within a week after
his discharge from prison.
He goes to the convict prison for the perpetra-
tion of perhaps one petty ofience, committed
under the influence of drink or poverty, and,
thanks to a paternal Government, he leaves prison
thoroughly qualified to execute every hideous
crime in the calendar. At first many of these
young criminals are so ignorant that, to save their
fives, they could not sjpell house or watch, and in
the spelling they are no better off when they leave
than when they enter ; but the law has given them
some very able tutors who have taught them how
to break into the one and to snatch the other.
Drink leads nine-tenths of prisoners into
108 Convict Life.
crime : no sane man doubts that ; but then the
law takes these amateurs, and throws them
into the arms of professionals, in these dark
and easily-communicating cells ; and unless they
have some really good principles which whisky
has not destroyed, and a large share of moral
courage, they are rapidly imbued with principles
which laugh at all moral restraints.
I repeat, because I think the evil cannot be
over-estimated, there are hundreds and hundreds
of men now in the convict prisons who occupy
every moment which they spend in their cell,
which is not devoted to sleep, in vicious and
filthy conversations with their next neighbour,
and in watching and perfecting conspiracies
against life and property. Old and hardened
criminals teach each other new dodges, and
become more proficient in crime ; and novices
are by these old and hardened criminals trans-
formed into adepts.
I have already said something about the
Medical Department of the Convict Service. I
am quite within the truth when I say that the
doctors are the hardest-worked and the worst-
paid of prison oflScials. They have great respon-
sibihties, and if they happen to make a mistake
Reformatory and Sanatory. 169
they are amenable to all sorts of penalties. I
think they deserve sympathy and consideration
at the hands of the public, and with few excep-
tions they are entitled to the full confidence of
the community. There may be one here and
there who would be better in health, and of
more service to the State, if he preferred milk to
brandy, but such cases are exceptional ones, and
would not exist if there were a head to the
system who was responsible to Parliament and
who would personally investigate what goes on.
The unsophisticated would scarcely believe
how arduous and diflRcult are the duties of a
medical officer in a convict prison. He has to
measure his shrewdness and judgment against
the deceit and the cunning of the most villan-
ously artful and deceitful body of men in the
world.
The first object of every professional thief and
habitual criminal after his conviction is to do
something to himself, or to invent some inge-
nious lie, by which he can "fetch the farm,"
which is thieves' language for obtaining admis-
sion to the infirmary. A prisoner there gets a
good bed and the close association of forty other
thieves in a large warm dormitory. He gets nice
170 Convict Life.
food, and he gets what every thief in England
adores above everything else except drink: I
mean entire laziness. He can lie on his back,
eat, talk filth to his neighbour, and plot future
villany. The infirmary is the convicted thief s
paradise, and he leaves no stone unturned to get
into it.
When one old "lag" is successful in any
invention which gains him admission, he commu-
nicates with his pal, and unless a doctor is vpry
wide awake he may be humbugged into the
idea that some particular malady has been engen-
dered in the prison by bad water or food, or gas,
whereas the infection has only emanated from dis-
eased and villanous imaginations. The prisoners
are continually comparing notes with each other
as to the best means of " besting the croker."
When I was discharged from the infirmary and
returned to the prison it was at dinner-time. I
was located in a vacant cell, and could hear my
neighbour eating his dinner. The officer locked
me in and went away, but had not got many yards
along the corridor when I heard a knock, suc-
ceeded by a voice.
" Did you come from the ' farm,' mate? "
"Yes."
Beformatory and Sanatory. 171
"Did you get full diet?"
'*Yes."
"Any extras?"
"Yes."
"Any beer?"
"No."
"Why not?"
" Because I preferred milk."
" Look here, old chum. I'll give you a ' wing
of snout' (that is, a taste of tobacco) if you'll
tell me how you worked it. What did you com-
plain of when the croker took you in ?"
"Nothing!"
" Who was it ? Askham ? "
"No. Bernard."
" And he took you in for nothing ?"
" He examined me, and put me to bed."
This was not satisfactory to my " co-mate and
brother in exile." I don't think he believed me,
and I did not get the " wing of snout." The
next day when I went out upon the works, I was
beset by similar inquiries, and got plenty of
curses for not being more communicative.
All sorts of dodges are resorted to. Bidwell
is not the only one who feigns paralysis ; many
poison their flesh by inserting in it copper-wire
1 72 Convict Life.
or worsted; others swallow ground glass, eat
poisonous insects, swallow soap and soda, or
slightly maim and disable themselves. Anything
by which they can secure a skulk, and escape
from what Mr. Carlyle has wisely called the
"sacredness of work." The most earnest prayer
of the professional thief might be thus translated :
" From the sacredness of work, and from all other
sacredness, good Lord deliver me."
When the thief once gets his foot into the infir-
mary, his two anxieties are how to stop there,
and how to obtain " extras," especially beer. He
compares notes with some other rascal, and tries
a fresh hoax every day upon the doctor. If the
doctor were to believe what he is told by profes-
sional thieves, one-half of their whole number
would be constantly in the infirmary ; and if he
believed the stories of those whom he does admit,
he would never get rid of them until the day of
their discharge, for, according to their own
account, they get worse every day. The com-
monest answer by an habitual criminal to the
doctor's morning inquiry, is, "I don't feel near
as well as I did yesterday, doctor. I feel so
weak and so faint. I think I should get strong if
you'd give me some porter " ! I And half of them
Reformatory and Sanatory. 173
are all the time thoroughly well, thoroughly-
strong, and lie on their lazy backs hour after hour
inventing fresh hoaxes.
At Portland and Dartmoor, and I believe at all
other provincial stations, the casual sick are seen
by the doctor in the dinner-hour. This is an evil
in many ways, and the discontinuance of the prac-
tice has been recommended in the Report of the
recent Commission, To give prisoners medicine
with their dinner is ridiculous, and in many cases
useless ; and it is given literally with the dinner.
I recollect distinctly that almost every day when
the cells were being unlocked for the men whose
names were down for the doctor, I had about
half-finished my dinner, and if I were really
unwell and required a dose of medicine, my only
opportunity of taking it was either to go without
my dinner altogether, or take rhubarb or castor-
oil as a sort of sandwich between beef and bread.
But let it be understood that this arrangement
is not under the control of the doctor, it is made
by the governor for the convenience of himself
and his subalterns. There is no good reason why
the medicine should not be dispensed in the early
morning as soon as prisoners rise, and half-an-
hour before breakfast. I know that on the last
174 Convict Life.
day of July an order was issued directing a change
in this respect, but I also know, that a week after
that date no change had been made at Dartmoor,
so I presume the authorities there are creating
difficulties.
I would also suggest that if the doctor, accom-
panied by his dispenser, went to the cells of those
men who had applied to see him in the same way
that he does at Pentonville Prison, all opportunity
for trafficking and assignations by prisoners at
the doctor's hour would be avoided, and the
doctor would be saved quite a number of bogus
applications, for, as I have already intimated, a
large number of prisoners only apply to see the
doctor in order to keep an appointment with a
" chum."
I may mention here that the disgusting custom
of stripping a lot of prisoners naked in the pre-
sence and sight of each other for the purpose of
searching is still continued at Dartmoor. Clause
25 of the Commissioners' Report says that it has
been discontinued since the Commission com-
menced its sittings. This is not so. At the begin-
ning of the month of August, 1879, 1 am informed
that a whole party of twenty or thirty men were
taken into the hall of the separate cells, and
Bfiformatory and Sanatory. 175
stripped in the presence of eacli other. It was
done almost every day while I was at that station,
and I have good authority for saying that the
disgusting and immoral practice still continues.
It is certainly not calculated to raise the standard
of decency amongst the criminal class.
I have taken it for granted in all that I have said
that the State has duties beyond the mere punish-
ment of crime. Millions are spent annually for
that purpose. Millions are stolen annually by the
criminal from the honest and industrious classes,
and spent in those great receiving-houses of
stolen money — the gin-palaces and the brothels.
Now, is it possible to do anything towards the
prevention of crime ? If so, surely it is a duty
incumbent on the State. I think it will be pos-
sible when a proper classification of prisoners
has been made. The money now expended upon
the educational department is altogether thrown
away, absolutely squandered and wasted. I have
watched the workings and effects of the school
organization very carefully, and I am very sure
that not one man in one thousand derives the
slightest benefit from it.
I am not alone in this opinion. A Catholic
priest who has, I believe, been in the service
176 Convict Life.
since Catholic priests were first employed, told me
only a few days ago that he had the very worst
opinion of the influences of the present convict
system upon the morals of the prisoners ; that he
had seen no good effects whatever from the school
teaching, and that without great reform he was
quite sure he never would.
Now, there are thousands of prisoners unable
either to read or write their own names, and
whose ignorance has been one of the great
obstacles to their success in life ; there are hun-
dreds of agricultural labourers, who, although
they are in prison, are not vicious by nature or
inclination ; and there are numbers of young boys
who have landed in prison in absolute ignorance,
and whose presence there is due to the fact that
they have been allowed to grow up without any
mental or moral training. These classes have
now the opportunity of attending school for
one hour in a iveek in the winter time, and
for about twenty minutes in a week in summer
time !
During these minutes the boy, the countryman,
the novice in crime, sit shoulder to shoulder
with old and abandoned thieves. These old
thieves have not the most remote intention to
Reformatory and Sanatory. 177
learn, even if they had the opportunity, but they
attend school as an excuse to get out of their
cells, and because they want a change of scene
and company.
When prisoners are entitled to write letters to
their friends they write them in the school-hour,
so that I had frequent opportunities of seeing
what went on. Disgusting conversations were
indulged in, the prisoners keeping their eyes
upon their books to avoid detection, but under
pretence of mumbling their lessons aloud they
were engaged in ribald chat with their neighbours,
and many were making disgusting and licentious
drawings on their slates, and showing them to
their pals. Classification would remedy this evil,
for it is only caused by the habitual-criminal
element. The other classes would profit by in-
struction if they had any opportunity, at present
they have no chance given them.
I will describe the educational arrangements at
Dartmoor. They reflect precisely the state of
things at Portland, and I presume at the other
public- works prisons. There are five distinct
prisons or halls. Once a week, in each hall, in
summer for about twenty minutes and in winter
for about one hour, the schoolmasters instruct, or
178 Convict Life.
pretend to instruct, such prisoners as can neither
read nor write ; no others are permitted to attend
school. An utter ignorance of the history of
England, or the geography of the globe, or of
the simplest rules of arithmetic, are not con-
sidered sufficient reasons to warrant the inter-
ference of the schoolmaster.
The very little time allotted for educational
purposes is half wasted even in this " once a
week" system. When the bell rings for school
and the classes have assembled the roll is called,
then the schoolmasters (who do everything very
leisurely) distribute the copybooks or the spelling-
books ; then they take another slow walk round
with the pens, and by the time a dozen words of
one syllable have been spelt, and often before a
single line in the copybook has been filled, the
bell rings again. The schoolmaster's work (?) is
done, he walks — not leisurely round now, he
wants to get home, or to the bilHard-room in
the village, and he is all in a bustle — "Now,
then, hurry up with those books and pens ! look
sharp I " Then, away rush the " dominies,"
and the prisoners return to their cells about
as wise as they left them. The only thing
they have learned, is probably a fresh lesson
Reformatory and Sanatory. 179
in vice from their next neighbour, or the latest
prison scandal and gossip.
I have certaiiily met with two or three men
who, in spite of difficulties, have after three or
four years acquired sufficient knowledge to scribble
half-a-dozen ungrammatical lines to their friends;
but these cases have been the result of prodigious
effort, and are not the consequence of any interest
which is taken in their work by the school-
masters, who are paid very fair salaries, and
whose great object seems to be to do as Httle
as possible in return.
JSTow, why does not the Government utilize the
services of this staff of expensive, and at present
useless men ? Taking the average of winter and
summer, they are occupied for about forty-five
minutes on five days of the week. The only
other thing that the whole staff do between them
is to leave a book once a week at each cell-door,
and this is often too much for them ; they fre-
quently miss it. They take advantage of every
possible excuse to avoid even their slight duties.
Last year the chaplain wished them to make a
catalogue of the books in the library. I could
have catalogued all the books they have there
in six hours. It took these four or five
N 2
180 Convict Life.
indolent men three months to do it, and during
that time it was impossible to get a readable
book; and let it be borne in mind that such
things as this only bear heavily on the novices in
crime, like all the other regulations in the convict
service. The old thieves don't care for books;
you may as well give strawberries to pigs.
I complained to the chaplain several times
while this cataloguing was going on and told
him that a tenth of the library of the British
Museum could have been catalogued in less
time. He said, jokingly, that they were a lazy
lot, and he feared he should have to get some
of them " sacked," but they " hurried not."
I have shown in a former chapter that a great
portion of the labour done by convicts is wasted
labour, and I am sure that none of it is remune-
rative. Now, would it not be wise to devote
three afternoons in the week to the instruction of
these ignorant men ?
The Saturday, which is now a half-holiday,
might be one of them, and, by a very little
good management, the labour performed on the
other two afternoons might be accomplished in
the morning in addition to what is now done.
If Mr. Cross will send for Captain Harris
Reformatory and Sanatory. 181
from Dartmoor, or Mr. Clifton from Portland,
and put the question straight to them, I am
quite sure that they will admit that it is
possible to make arrangements by which nine
hours in the week could be devoted to the
education of the ignorant. The three hours
on the Saturday at present so much misused by
prisoners in their cells provides a third of the
time, and by a very little extra energy the
labour now accomplished on Tuesdays and
Thursdays might he crowded into the mornings
of those days.
Then these schoolmasters would have a little
occupation. At present they are getting fat from
inaction, and their brains are getting mouldy
from lack of exercise. They loll about with
their fishing-rods, and ruminate upon the pension
which they see looming in the future, but which
they can scarcely delude themselves that they
have honestly earned. To put it mildly, they
are at present making no adequate return for
the public money they receive.
I approach the religious question with some
diffidence, because, while I am very anxious to
expose the hypocrisy and deceit which are practised
by the criminal class, I should indeed be sorry if
182 Convict Life.
it were supposed that I wished to cast any slur
upon holy things. The programme of the reli-
gious department in a convict prison is made up
of two services on the Sunday, with a sermon at
each, and a monthly celebration of the Sacrament
of the Lord's Supper. There is an early service
every morning during the week for a few minutes.
On Tuesday and Thursday a short address is
given ; on Wednesday and Friday the Litany is
read ; and on Monday and Saturday selections
from the Morning Service of the Church. The
services in the Eoman Catholic chapels, are, I am
told, of a similar character.
About the whole of these services there is a
dead and hollow formality which always spoke to
me of hideous and transparent hypocrisy. The
prisoners are all glad to take part in them
because they add a little variety to their life,
and because they increase their opportunities
for chat and association. Not one in a hundred
goes into the chapel with any reverence for the
God with whom he is supposed to hold com-
munion. Not one in a hundred who join in the
Confession of sin cares whether God hears them
or not, but they speak loudly, and do care very
jmuch that the chaplain should hear them, and
Reformatonj and Sanatory. 183
observe them, for upon his recommendation they
may be able to obtain a more pleasant billet in
the prison. At every opportunity during the
service at least three-fourths of the prisoners
utilize the responses and the prayers which are
repeated after the clergyman for the purpose
of conversation with one of their neigh-
bours.
I have seen a man pulling a long face and
who, with his hands clasped and his eyes on the
chaplain, instead of repeating the Pater Noster,
was detailing to his chum the latest news from
some thieves' quarter in London, which he had
received through a man recently " lagged."
It will be said that this sort of thing caanot be
helped, but I think it is largely due to a want of
earnestness on the part of the chaplains, and it
is certainly due in a great measure to the too-
frequent services, and their stereotyped character.
Neither these men when in freedom, nor any
other men in England, dream of going to church
every day ; why should convicts do so ?
I sincerely believe that there are hundreds of
men in convict prisons who are open to good
influences. I think that an earnest practical
appeal to them from the pulpit, showing them
184 Convict Life.
how utterly futile it is to expect real happiness in
this world except from a life of virtue, or urging
upon them the great truth that the most truly
happy people in the world are those who subsist
on the fruits of their labour, would really produce
some good results. Now I am sorry to say that
prison chaplains attach far more importance to
doctrinal Christianity than to practical godliness.
They are too constantly urging prisoners to believe
that God sent them into the world under a
curse; that they were created wicked by the
constitution of their flesh, and wicked by eternal
decree.
These abstruse disquisitions have no good
effect upon the criminal class, nor upon un-
thinking men who do not yet belong to that class,
and perhaps still less upon the few who do think.
When thieves are told that they were born unable
to keep the commandments, they rather naturally
inquire why they are punished for breaking them,
and so with other mysteries. When preached to
about the atonement, they are assured that the
sins of all who believe have been atoned for.
They do not receive the doctrine cum grano, but
literally ; so they swear they believe, swallow
the sacrament, think they are all right, and go on
Reformatory and Sanatory. 185
singing in chapel and cursing outside until the
next sacrament-day. Now, would it not be better
to discourse to these men on the great law of
cause and effect ; to try to show that honesty is
indeed the best policy ; and that peace and plenty
and comfort can only follow purity and industry
and sobriety ?
Then such advice tendered to the mass might
advantageously be followed up by personal
appeals to such of the prisoners as are but
new travellers on the "road to ruin." I do
not speak of the old and incorrigible thieves,
but outside of this class I am sure there are
many to whom a little advice — not given as
from a gaoler to a prisoner, but as from a large-
hearted Christian man to an erring brother —
would be thankfully welcomed.
I am sorry to say that during my long ex-
perience in two convict prisons I never knew a
chaplain voluntarily to enter a prisoner's cell
and have a little rational talk with him about
the good policy of honesty and truth. I am
sure that not one of them ever came in this
way to me. I never heard of one going to any
other prisoner. If I made an application to
see a chaplain about a book or a letter, he
186 - Convict Life.
generally gave me the impression that he made
the note in his book without having the slightest
interest in me or my reformation, and simply
because it was a part of the routine which
ensured him his salary. If a chaplain does call
upon a prisoner it is to urge his attendance upon
the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper.
I really think it would be wise on the part of
the Government to prohibit this service alto-
gether in convict prisons. Nothing in my prison-
life disgusted me so much as the infamous use
which is made of this ordinance of the Church.
A large proportion of the vilest and filthiest
scoundrels whom I met with, both at Portland
and Dartmoor, were not only members of the
church choir, and the loudest in their responses
at church, but " regular communicants " of the
Lord's Supper.
At Portland, and I presume at other stations,
the chaplains have found it necessary to keep a
tight hold upon the goblets while administering
the wine. To trust them in the hands of the
communicants would be to greatly increase the
amount of the prison-wine account.
If the numbers who attend this service were
a good test of the amount of real good achieved
Reformatory and Sanatory. 187
by the chaplains, they would surely deserve great
credit. There are a legion of applicants for the
bread and wine on the first Sunday of each
month. The prisoners, rightly or wrongly, have
got the idea that if they want an easy billet in
the prison work — a job in the cook-house or
bake-house, or a nurseship in the infirmary —
their game is to pull a long face at chapel, and
take the Sacrament regularly. The most unmiti-
gated villains unhung would reverently turn to
the east, and loudly mouth out the damnatory
clauses of the Athanasian Creed, and I am bound
to say that they made it pay. Reports, no doubt
went up to the Home Secretary of the great
amount of good accomplished ; I must say that
I fear it was nine-tenths humbug. The general
result of the present system is to foster and
perpetuate hypocrisy. The present leader of the
choir in the Protestant chapel at Dartmoor, and
one of the most devout prisoners (at church)
is doing his third " lagging."
It is well known to the officers of the prison
that the display of religion on his part, and that
of many others, is a mere sham ; that if they
get the tip from their neighbours that the chap-
lain is in their neighbourhood, their Bible will
188 Convict Life.
be open on the table, or he will very likely find
them on their knees, but as soon as he is gone
they will be indulging in obscene conversation
through their " chat-holes." I am sorry to have
to insist that this religious trickery and deceit
is made to pay.
One of the ways of fetching an " easy lagging "
is to be a canter and a hypocrite. The prisoners
know this, and so there is in every convict
prison a whole regiment enlisted under the
" banner of the Cross." Many of them have
been praying and singing and " communing "
through two or three *' laggings." When their
present sentence expires they will take a " spell."
They will stop praying and take to thieving,
until the "bobby" catches them at, their old
tricks, when they will return to penal servitude
to pray and sing and *' commune " again, and so
fetch another " easy lagging."
I hope that in making these strictures I shall
not be misunderstood. God forbid that I should
throw a stone at any religious professions which
are sincere, and the genuineness of which are
borne out in the life of the professor. I have a
real respect for the adherents of any creed, no
matter how absurd I may think its tenets.
Reformatory and Sanatory. 189
if belief in them ensures purity of life. No
creed can be wholly bad if it produces good
men. I know — few better than I — that nothing
but misery and wretchedness attend the steps
of those who stray from the path of true godh-
ness. I know that it is only by a conscious-
ness that we are ever in the sight of a great
Eternal Father, who makes virtue its own
reward, that we can hope to avoid impurity and
sin. I know also that it is only by sincere and
hearty repentance of misdeeds, and a fixed de-
termination to live henceforth in honesty, and
sobriety, and truth, and in the fear of the good
God, that any peace can come into a man's
soul.
But while feeling all this, and having, I hope,
realized, the truth of it in my own experience,
I cannot help expressing the contempt and
abhorrence which I feel for the cheats who
attempt to palm themselves off upon the credu-
lous as penitents and pietists, while their inner
life is so filthy and abominable as to make one
doubt their humanity. That thousands of con-
victs do this for the sake of the pettiest of petty
advantages I am quite certain, and the only way
to put an end to it is to prevent favour being
190 Convict Life.
shown to prisoners on account of any religious
profession which they may make. No truly re-
pentant men will object to this, for all such
would be ashamed to accept immunity from
labour for simply doing their duty, and " walking
humbly with God."
The prison Hbraries are organized by the
chaplains, and are really under their control,
but of necessity the distribution is left to the
schoolmasters. There are good books in the
libraries, but it is fifty to one against the man
who can understand and appreciate a good book
getting it.
The grossest carelessness and want of dis-
crimination characterise the action of the school-
masters in this matter as in all others. The
don't-carishness which they exhibit is unpardon-
able. A boor who cannot read at all will be very
likely to get Macaulay's " Essays," or Hallam's
"Middle Ages," while an educated man, or a
thinking man who desires to learn something,
will be condemned to the one hundred and
forty-ninth perusal of *' Robinson Crusoe.", The
boor will probably lay Mr. Hallam upon his shelf
and not trouble to put him out for exchange
again for three months, and during that time
Reformatory and Sanatory. 191
fifty poor fellows are starving for mental food
which might fit them for a better life. I believe
that there is at Portland a copy of Motley's
" Dutch Eepublic " and of some of Mr. Prescott's
works, but although I made incessant applica*
tions for three years, I never obtained them,
owing to the sheer inanity of the schoolmasters.
A tolerably good joke was current at Portland
in my time. A " rural " prisoner, who, I suppose,
did not come from "very far north," was anxious
to obtain an amusing book. By the advice of his
neighbour he made an appHcation to see the
chaplain. That functionary tapped at his door
about a week afterwards to inquire what he
wanted. He quite innocently requested that he
might be supplied with " The Life and Adven-
tures of the Three Lazy Schoolmasters." The
chaplain doubtless chuckled to himself, and retailed
the joke in the evening over his " beeswing," but
the book was not forthcoming.
Two books I did get at Portland, which to me
were invaluable. They contained gems of poetry
and prose of which one never tires, and which,
after I had committed them to memory, were to
me a " continual feast." They were the " Half-
Hours with the Best Authors," which was pub-
192 Convict Life.
lished bj good old Charles Knight, and " The
Cyclopaedia of English Literature," published a
few years ago by Messrs. Chambers. The only
fault with the latter was, that amongst a host of
selections which were pure gold, an unfair quan-
tity of dross was mingled, evidently for no other
reason than because it was Scotch dross. I gave
all that "a wide berth" of course, and I then
found sufficient to command my gratitude to the
compilers.
Out of the sixteen hundred prisoners at Port-
land there are perhaps two hundred who can
understand and appreciate such books as those I
have named. The Rev. Mr. Hill, for many years,
and until recently, the senior chaplain at that
station, told me in 1876 that he had more than a
hundred applications at one time for each of the
books named, and an equal number for Boswell's
"Johnson" and Scott's -'Xapoleon." Many of
these were from illiterate prisoners to whom these
books would be of no use, but who had an equal
chance of obtaining them. Such books as the
two first and the last I have named would cer-
tainly tend to improve the minds and raise the
moral tone of the men who are anxious to read
them, and would perhaps be of as much service
Reformatory and Sanatory. 193
in fitting them to do their duty and become useful
members of society in this world, as are the
"Dairyman's Daughter" and Baxter's "Saint's
Rest" to prepare them for another. The last-
named books are in abundance, of the former
there is but a single copy of each in the library.
I do not want to intrude on the domain of the
ecclesiastical powers, but I venture to submit
that orthodoxy and mere outward conformity
of the criminal class are not of so much im-
portance to the State, as is their regeneration
on this material and sublunary sphere. Let the
law while it has them under control try to trans-
form them into good, honest, intelligent citizens.
After their release, if the parsons can induce
them to adopt any of their peculiar isms, and
those isms will keep them straight for the future,
why, the community will owe a debt of gratitude
both to the parsons and the isms.
There have been any number of books written
which if read and studied would tend to make
men good, and honest, and industrious, and pure
in this world. Surely these are the character-
istics of all the writings of one whom I con-
sider the greatest of living authors, and who is
perhaps the greatest of living men ; yet not one
0
194 Convict Life.
of the productions of Thomas Carlyle can be
found in any prison library. Harriet Martineau
and Mr. Froude are excluded, and many other
authors who have written with the object of
improving and refining the race, — and why ?
For no other reason than that the authors named
are too honest to say they believe what they
do not believe, and are unable to digest all
the antique orthodoxy of the " Fathers of the
Church."
At Dartmoor I was very fortunate in getting
from the chaplain Mr. Fronde's " Short Essays
on Great Subjects," but it was only by a fluke.
The chaplain had not had time to read them.
No other prisoner got them, for they were
condemned on account of some religious senti-
ment contained in them, not coinciding with his
reverence's prejudices. I presume some censor-
ship to be necessary, but would it not be better
if it were placed in the hands of some liberal-
minded man in London who could supervise all
the books issued for the use of the prisoners ?
At present, books issued freely in one prison
are forbidden in another.
I take it for granted that no long time will
elapse before there is a classification of prisoners.
Reformatory and Sanatory. 195
When that arrangement is made, and when all
those men who are not wholly given over to
the devil are ?;et apart from the habitual
criminals, it would be a very wise provision
to appoint for each prison two or three large-
hearted men of high moral character, whose
duty it would be to visit every prisoner in
rotation, and converse with him during the
hours not devoted to labour; or if the men
worked in their cells, as I think they should v/
do, the visits might be made while they are at
work. This would obviate all the objections
which are raised to the solitary system.
It is not necessary to a man's sanity that he
should be alivays talking; and such visits, and
the expectation of such visits, would altogether
prevent men from becoming melancholy and
brooding over the idea that they are forgotten
and uncared for.
At Portland there is one such man who is v/^
called the " Scripture-Reader," but as there are
sixteen hundred men at that station, and as he is
limited to one hour in the evening for making
his visits, he is not able to see an}'- prisoner
very often. Mr. Gibbs, of whom I speak, is
certainly the most useful man I saw in the ser-
0 2
196 Convict Life.
vice during my imprisonment. He had himself
belonged to the industrial class; he is a con-
scientious total abstainer ; and he was able and
willing, as far as opportunity was allowed him,
to give in a brotherly way sound advice to the
prisoners.
I know of two or three instances in which
he was successful in inducing young and com-
paratively innocent men to avoid the company
and language of the old thieves, and I know
of one or two others whom drink had taken
to prison, who, in consequence of his earnest
advocacy, left prison with a determination to
make their first call at the offices of a tem-
perance society and sign the pledge.
Half-a-dozen such men in each prison, with
unlimited opportunities of seeing and talking
with young prisoners, might effect an amount
of good which cannot be over-estimated.
There are more than two hundred officers at
Portland whose duty it is to guard and control
the men ; but, the chaplains having no time for
this sort of exhortation, there is only this one
man to point out to them that there is a more
excellent way to pass through life than in
spending it in debauchery and vice. I think
Reformatory and Sanatory. 197
the governor of Portland would soon discover
that he could dispense with the services of a
score or two of "screws" if he had half-a-
dozen such men as Mr. Gibbs on his staflf, and
each one had ample opportunities to exercise
his influence upon those prisoners who are im-
pressible. At Dartmoor there is not even one
of these readers and exhorters.
I commend this subject to the very serious
attention of the Government. Then the young
novices in crime instead of being contaminated
by old thieves, and by them rendered unfit for
ever to mix with honest or decent people, would
be properly advised and guided, and would per-
chance leave prison with honest hearts, and
become eventually useful members of the com-
monwealth.
There is another plan which, if adopted bj
the chaplains, would I am sure lead to good
results. Let the men be assembled in the
chapel on one evening in the week during the
winter months, and addressed on some subject
not altogether religious. There are doubtless
many able and eloquent men who would, for the
love of God and human progress, give their
services, and address their fallen fellow-creatures
198 Convict Life.
on temperance and industry, and literature and
science. If the chaplains object to the impor-
tation of outsiders let them do it themselves. I
repeat there are men open to good influences,
and if by some such means as I have indicated
they could be rescued from the criminal life into
which the other branches of the Convict Depart-
ment seem to condemn them, it would be work
worthy even the high vocation of a Christian
minister.
Convict Life. 199
CHAPTER VIII.
EEPOET OF THE COMMISSION r
IT may savour of presumption for me to review
the recent Report of the Commission, but
at least I shall bring to it a practical knowledge
of the subject upon which they have reported.
The suggestions and recommendations which
have emanated from Lord Kimberley and his
associates are exceedingly valuable, and although
they have left untouched the important question
of education, and although they have not solved
the two problems of how to diminish crime,
and what to do with incorrigible and habitual
criminals, they have yet presented Mr. Cross
with a great deal of material towards his coming
measure of prison reform.
My object in this chapter will be to offer some
suggestions in regard to what has been recom-
mended by the Commission, and also to try to
supply some further material which, if considered.
200 Convict Life.
may be found worth the attention of the Secretary
of State.
At section 29 the Commissioners speak of the
nine months of separate confinement at Millbank
and Pentonville, and intimate that, with the
exception of attendance at chapel and exercise,
the visits of the governor, medical officer, chap-
lain, or warder to the prisoner in his cell, alone
break the silence and solitude of his life. This
ought to be true : if responsible and reliable
officers were employed, it would be true ; and if
it were true, and the system could be extended
through the whole sentence of men convicted for
the first time, they would, unless they really
belong to the constitutionally vicious and incor-
rigible class, never be re-convicted, and would
emerge into the world redeemed and reclaimed.
This is the opinion of every intelligent and
educated convict with whom I have come in
contact. I have not the most remote doubt of
its truth; and if Mr. Cross can, before quitting
the fatigues of office, persuade the Legislature to
give solitary confinement a fair trial, I feel very
sure that it will prevent many thousands from
enlisting in the dreadful army of professional
criminals. I am convinced that five years is too
Report of the Commission. 201
long a sentence for any man convicted for the
first time, unless it be for some very heinous
offence. Three or four years of solitary con-
finement would be found quite sufficient to
prevent a novice from engaging again in crime ;
but even if the five years' rule be maintained,
there is no good reason why the solitary system
should not be tried. Some over-anxious and
tender-hearted philanthropists have expressed
fears that so long a period of silence and soli-
tude would produce lunacy.
This could only be in the case of men with
very weak minds, and such could be specially
provided for by medical certificate. I know, and
it is the experience of all whose opinion is worth
consideration, that it was only when I was cut off
from all society, and compelled to hold com-
munion with myself, that I fully turned my
thoughts inwards, and reflected upon the wicked-
ness which had landed me in a convict's cell ;
and then it was, I formed resolves which, with
God's help, I hope will protect me in the future.
It is arofued that solitude renders men dull and
morose. Well, men cannot be overcome with
remorse for an ill- spent life, and feel at the same
time particularly jolly.
202 Convict Life.
If a man is to be reformed lie must lament
over his past misdoings ; and when is he most
likely to lament ? When he is in the society
of ribald and obscene jokers, who laugh with
fiendish glee at whatever is pure or decent, or in
the sohtude of his cell, with only God and an
accusing conscience ? If men are to be humbled
into that state of contrition which must neces-
sarily precede reformation, there must be sorrow,
and no doubt sorrow produces dejection.
Would it not be wise to encourage a little
dejection, if by its operation thieves can be trans-
formed into honest men ? But all the evils of
the separate system are easily obviated. Work,
constant and earnest work, and books when the
work is done, with the occasional visits of such
men as Mr. Gibbs at Portland — men who will
walk into a prisoner's ceU and grasp his hand,
and then sit down and show him how easy a
thing it is for a man, with God's help, to be
happy in this world if he is only honest and sober
and true, and that even for men who have faUen
ever so low there is hope, if they wiU but fear-
lessly defy the devil for the future. Such truths
spoken earnestly by large-hearted men from time
to time would to aU but the most degraded
<?1*
Report of the Commission. 203
prisoners give food for reflection, preserve them
from the extremes of melancholy, and inspire
them with bright hopes for the future.
Then there is work to be done which, if
earnestly pursued, would preserve men from over-
brooding. As I have shown, the work now per-
formed in prisons is not earnest work. No man
will be made an industrious man, or be quahfied to
obtain an honest livelihood, by the work he does
in prison : it would not buy him prison rations.
If a man worked in his cell either at a loom or
at shoemaking or tailoring, and was given to
understand that he would be rewarded with the
proceeds of his labour after a sufficiency had been
earned for his maintenance, he would have an
incitement to work ; and if he really worked
there would be no fear of such extreme dejection
as could lead to lunacy. No doubt idleness takes
many men to prison; the professional thief luon^t
work ; but amongst the other classes idleness is
fostered in prison ; every prisoner does as little
as he possibly can because no reward is offered
for his industry.
Let me here quote from a work published in
the first half of this century, entitled " Self-
Pormation." The author, by the enunciation of
204 Convict Life.
self-evident truths, not only shows the import-
ance and value of work in the abstract, but also
proves that earnest work is an infallible remedy
for all the evils which are supposed to be charge-
able to solitary confinement.
He says, " I have heard and read repeatedly that
idleness is a very great evil ; but the censure does
not appear to me to come up to the real truth.
I begin to think that it is not only a very
great evil, but the greatest evil, and not only
the greatest one, but, in fact, the only one — the
only mental one, I mean ; for, of course, as to
morality a man may be very active, and very
viciously active too. But the one great sensible
and conceivable evil is that of idleness. No man
is wretched in his energy. There can be no pain
in a fit ; a soldier at the full height of his spirit,
and in the heat of contest, is unconscious even
of a wound ; the orator in the full flow of rhetoric
is altogether exempt from the pitiful ness of gout
and rheumatism. To he occupied, in its first
meaning, is to be possessed as by a tenant; and see
the significance of first meanings. When the
occupation is once complete, when the tendency
is full, there can he no entry for any evil
spirit; but idleness is emptiness; where it is.
Report of the Commission. 206
there the doors are thrown open and the devils
troop in.''^
Leaving out of the question the old and habi-
tual criminals, I think the Government have here
in a nutshell the only effective means for reform-
ing criminals and turning them into honest men :
Solitary confinement ; no association with the
re-convicted men ; the occasional visit and cowisel
of earnest, practical advisers ; and steady, earnest,
unremitting labour, which shall enable the convict
to earn sufficient money to emigrate and begin a
new life in a new land.
In sections 34 to 40, inclusive, the Com-
missioners describe the present system of clas-
sification— good-conduct marks, remission, and
gratuities, without suggesting any reform. The
existing scale of marks is a very peculiar inven-
tion. Under its provisions a prisoner is not
credited with any marks during the first nine
months of his sentence, no matter how good his
conduct or how great his industry; but if he
breaks any prison rule during the probationary
period he is fined a certain number of marks,
which are deducted from those he is expected to
earn in the future.
Another anomaly is that after the close of the
ijLc
206 Convict Life.
probationary period every prisoner is credited
with six marks per day, no matter how bad his
conduct or how great his indolence, but in earn-
ing only six marks per day he gets no remission.
The six marks' credit, therefore, is a mere de-
lusion ; it means nothing, and endless trouble
might be saved by giving good-conduct men
one and two marks per day, and bad-conduct
men none. The whole mark system is never-
theless a strong argument in favour of the classi-
fication of prisoners.
With the present class of men who are em-
ployed as warders, eight marks per day does
not at all mean good conduct and steady hard
labour ; indeed, the amount of work done is not
taken into account by one officer in twenty. It
means that the prisoner has given the officer
in charge of him no trouble; that he has not
bothered him at all; that he has not even
troubled him for anything which would have
helped him to do more work ; and that he has
kept his eyes open to give his supervisor the
"tip " in case of the approach of a superior officer.
These are, in practice, the things which obtain a
man his full number of marks, and it may be
readily conceived that the majority of those who
Beport of the Commission. 207
obtain in this way their full remission and are
the soonest let loose to prey again upon the
public are the old thieves that are up to all
prison dodges, who are thoroughly posted up
as to when it is safe to break a rule and when
it is not, and who " know their way about "
generally.
Now, I would suggest that re-convicted men
should not only be kept in distinct prisons, but
should be deprived of the privilege of earning
remission. There certainly ought not to be any
great hurry about liberating men who have given
ample proof that they intend to live always by
plunder. There are two very effective ways of
keeping these habitual thieves in order — bread-
and- water diet and the whip ; they hate both as
much as the devil hates holy water.
At clause 38 the Commissioners speak of the
amount awarded to prisoners on their release.
The necessity which exists for a classification
of prisoners is at no time more apparent than
on the occasion of a convict's discharge. Three
pounds is not much to give a man with which to
begin the world. However sincere may be the
convict's aspirations for a life of industry and
honour, he is in most cases destitute of friends
208 Convict Life.
who can aid him to obtain employment. If he is
to be honest, a little help from the Government
is necessary to provide him with the implements
of industry; and yet, so long as all classes of
prisoDers are subject to the same regulations,
I could not conscientiously advise the Govern-
ment to increase the amount of gratuity.
All that I heard from the men who were
awaiting their discharge from Millbank con-
temporaneously with myself, and the resolutions
I heard expressed by hundreds of men upon
public works, as to what would be their first
action upon their release, forces me to the
conclusion that in the case of two-thirds of all
the convicts, the amount paid to them, whether
it were three pounds or thirty, would go to
swell the receipts of some old acquaintance
who sells intoxicating liquors.
The same argument applies to the clothes
in which prisoners are discharged. And this
brings me to clause 41. The Commissioners
state that improvements have been made in
quality and fashion. I shall speak my own
experience. The " togs " in which I was
"rigged out" were an advertisement to the
police, and to the public. There was, to all
Report of the Commission. 209
intents and purposes, an announcement upon
my back tliat I was a " ticket-of-leave man."
Such an arrangement may seem suited for
all old gaol-birds and irreclaimables. If three-
fourths of the convicts who are discharged
were attired in a respectable and serviceable
suit of clothes, at a cost of three or four
pounds, the result would be, that after an entire
outfit had been obtained from Petticoat-lane
for about five-and-sixpence, the clothes supplied
by the Government would be consigned to the
care of their uncle for twelve calendar months,
and at the expiration of the year would be
knocked down to the highest bidder by some
auctioneer.
In my own case, and in that of others
similarly situated, I think there is cause for
complaint. As I have admitted, the act which
consigned me to prison admits of no apology
and deserves no excuse ; still, I was not a gaol-
bird, or an habitual criminal, and shall be much
more likely to offer myself as food to the
sharks that haunt the Portland breakwater than
to seek re-admission into the ranks of the
convicts who built it.
On my advent to Pentonville, the authorities
p
210 Convict Life.
took possession of a suit of clothes adapted
to my position in life, and whicli had shortly
before cost me twelve or fourteen pounds. On
my release I was turned loose in a suit, the
shoddiness of which is itself a lesson in rascality,
and in which I should have been quite ashamed
to seek employment in my own profession. The
contract price of the material may have been
ten shillings, and it was botched together as
only prison tailors can botch. Its value was
nil ; a good sharp shower would reduce it to
a rag : no, not even to a rag, for it was shoddy.
It is simply a fair-weather covering for a man's
nakedness for a month, if he is very careful and
does no work.
After two hours' wear, having in the meantime
obtained possession of some of the auxiliaries of
civilization, and being anxious to be rid of every-
thing that smacked of the prison, I offered the
suit for sale to one of the "sons of Zebedee;"
he said " It was no goot," and he was perfectly
right. He thought he might be able to " palm it
off upon a flat," and he would risk a crown for it.
I accepted his offer, and immediately put several
streets between myself and the last relics of
prison life.
Report of the Commission. 211
I fancy I hear some sagacious reader ask
■whether the Boyal Society for the Aid of Discharged
Prisoners does not fill the vacuum left by the
Government. I would preface my reply with a
suoforestion that there should be no vacuum. The
class of men who would appreciate a little help
on their release, and to whom it would really be
useful, should be instigated to industry during
their term of imprisonment by the promise of
remuneration for any amount of work they could
perform beyond their allotted task. This being
no part of the Government programme, the
Society might, if properly managed, play the part
of "Good Samaritan," towards men who are
anxious to work their way back into respectability.
I have taken some pains to ascertain whether it
has assumed this great and humane character.
I cannot hear of many cases in which it has
been really useful in serving its unfortunate clients.
It appears to be a mere bank in which a man
can deposit the small sum allowed him by the
Government and receive it back in driblets. The
majority of discharged prisoners have relatives or
friends who, however poor, will give them food or
shelter for a week or two, and they hang about
the oflBces of the Society day after day for two or
p 2
212 Convict Life.
three hours, to obtain the trifle which is doled
out to them, and which trifle they too often
swallow in the shape of beer. The bonus which
is added by the Society is given only to those
men who come to them with a sheet upon which
there is no record of any infraction of the prison
rules ; and, as I have explained elsewhere, the
men who are best able to avoid report are the
experienced professional thieves. But gratuity
and bonus do not amount to much, and are soon
exhausted. The object of the Society should be
to lay out the amount promptly in some way
which would enable the man to earn a living ; or
else to obtain immediate employment for him,
and expend the money in the purchase of those
necessary comforts which will enable him to
pursue his avocation without anxiety.
I would take the liberty to suggest to the
generous and philanthropic Duke of "Westminster,
who is President of this Royal Society, that a
committee of shrewd and benevolent men of
business, who would take an interest in promoting
the objects for which the Society was founded, and
who would in turn give their services to inquire
into the nature of the requirements, as well as
into the true character and disposition of the
Report of the Commission. 213
applicants, would be a far more effective macHine
for accomplishing good than an expensive '* figure-
head " and a staff of red-tape officials of the
policeman class, whose interests are concentrated
in the salaries which they draw from this well-
intentioned engine of benevolence, and whose
humane instincts are controlled by official routine.
Section 41 refers to the surveillance of
prisoners discharged on licence. Unfortunately
this bears most heavily and unequally upon the
most innocent class. The well-intentioned man,
whose desire for the future is to be law-abiding
and industrious, gets into a respectable neigh-
bourhood, furnishes his correct address to the
authorities, and tries to get work. Very often
the fact that his whereabouts and antecedents
are known at the police-station nearest his resi-
dence, and to the police employed upon that beat,
operate most injuriously upon the man's interests
and chances of work.
Policemen are naturally anxious to show their
acuteness and activity to their superiors, and the
man with honest intentions is often foiled in his
attempts to gain an honest living by the assiduity
of the police. If he is honest, all his actions and
movements are open and above-board, and he is
214 Convict Life.
easy game for policemen who desire to exhibit their
'cuteness by unearthing a ticket-of-leave man.
The thief gives the address of some chum, who
is prepared at all times with an answer to
inquiries, and successfully eludes police vigilance.
I entirely acquit the Criminal Investigation
Department of all blame. If they had it in their
power to appoint half-a-dozen men of education
and acuteness, who had sufficient judgment to
discriminate between the different classes of
prisoners discharged, and to keep their eye upon
them without opening their mouths unnecessarily,
the honest and industrious man would be able
to work his way back to respectability without
impediment, and the man who has gone back to
thieving would be more readily caged. Such
officers, however, could not be hired for police-
men's pay, and in this matter the authorities are
economical in the wrong place.
I never forget a face, and in my walks about
London I continually see men whom I knew in
prison, who are evidently bent on mischief. I
think that if I had charge of a certain number of
the men discharged in London, saw them on the
morning of their discharge, and knew their
registered address, I should be able in a month
Report of the Commission. 215
to make a reliable report to the authorities as to
their proclivities and habits, and to classify the
innocent and the guilty. My tastes would alto-
gether preclude me from seeking such an office,
even if I had not disqualified myself by be-
coming a law breaker, but there can be no doubt
that for a reasonable remuneration competent
officers could be obtained to do this, and the
result would be the protection and safety of the
reformed and industrious man, and the rapid
reconviction of the rogue.
In sections 70 to 74 the Commissioners review
and admit the existence of the evils I have
pointed out as to the contamination of young
offenders by hardened criminals.
Clause 75 suggests the real and only remedy,
and it is so important and wise a suggestion that
I give it in its entirety : — '* It has been suggested
as a remedy, that a sentence to separate imprison-
ment might be adopted as a substitute or alter-
native for the present sentence of five years'
penal servitude. We may assume that a less
period of imprisonment than three years could
not be regarded as an equivalent for five years'
penal servitude ; and the first question which
arises is, whether prisoners could be detained in
216 Convict Life.
separate confinement for so long a period without
risk of injury to their mental and bodily health.
In Belgium criminals are subjected to cellular
imprisonment for much longer periods, and, it is
said, without injury; but without laying too much
stress on the Belgian practice, concerning which
we have not full information, we may point out
that it does not appear that prisoners have
suffered unduly from imprisonment in the county
and borough gaols, in some of which the system
of separation has been enforced for periods
usually not exceeding eighteen months, but
sometimes extending to two years. Upon the
whole we are of opinion that, with certain relaxa-
tions during the latter part of the sentences,
such as longer hours of exercise, more frequent
schooling, and visits from chaplains and Scripture-
readers, more books and more time allowed for
reading, more fi'equent communications with
their famihes by letters and visits, all of which,
however, it must be borne in mind, would ma-
terially diminish the severity of the punishment,
prisoners might be confined in separate cells
without serious risk for as much as three years."
But, unfortunately, the Commissioners do not
recommend the adoption of this excellent plan.
Report of the Commission. 217
Clause 76 says : — " The introduction of sucli
a sentence into our criminal code would have the
undoubted advantage that a considerable number
of criminals, and especially of the less-hardened
class, would be withdrawn from the danger of
contamination by associating with other convicts.
But, notwithstanding this advantage, we have
come to the conclusion, after carefully weighing
the arguments which have been adduced on both,
sides, that it is not desirable to make so vital a
change in our penal system." The efficacy of
the cure is admitted, but its adoption is not
recommended because it is a vital change.
Surely it is a vital change which is needed. The
Commissioners fear that the difference between
the two years' sentence and the three would not
be sufficiently marked, and that the dread of it
would not be so great as of the five years' sen-
tence. Now the present two years' sentence is
in practice eighteen months. Three years would
be the double of eighteen months, and it might
be understood that a man receiving that sentence
would have to complete his three years. If three
years of solitary confinement with hard and
constant work, good books and instruction, and
wise advisers will not reform a man, will any
218 Gonvict Life.
sentence do it ? "Will twenty years do it ? I
am convinced that it will not ; and I think that
those of Her Majesty's Judges who have taken
any interest in watching the career of criminals
will entirely agree with me.
The object of the law is to punish, but it is
also to reform the offender. If in three years
an offender can be made an honest and indus-
trious man, why should the State be longer
burdened with his care, and why should the
commonwealth be any longer deprived of a
wealth-producer ? If in the sequel he proves
incorrigible, he will soon be re-convicted, and
should then be treated as an habitual criminal,
and deprived for a very long time of the power
of preying upon the community.
I have carefully studied the character of the
different classes of convicts amongst whom I
have been thrown, and I am certain that by
the system suggested in this 75th clause, one-
half of the men now convicted would, instead
of being contaminated and turned into brutes,
be transformed into honest, and sober, and
reasonable beings. Why not try it ?
In clauses 78 and 79, the Commissioners
recommend a plan of classification, which I
Report of the Commission. 219
admit would be an improvement in the present
plan, but not a great and effectual improvement.
They suggest the classification of prisoners
into classes according to the nature of the
crimes for which they are undergoing punish-
ment, or the formation into a separate class
of those against whom no previous conviction
is known to have been recorded. There are
fatal objections to both these plans, some of
which the Commissioners set forth themselves
in another clause.
An old and hardened receiver][of stolen goods,
who has had a run of luck for twenty years
and at last gets caught, is not a fit associate
or tutor for noviciates in crime. I have met
with many old pickpockets, thieves of the worst
class, who have moved rapidly about the country
for many years and escaped detection. These
men, thorough adepts at their trade, and able
to boast of a long career of undetected crime,
would be the very worst associates for men
who are really first offenders, and yet they
would be eligible for that class.
It is not only that first offenders are often
very bad men, and convicted of very heinous
crimes, but that men convicted for the first time
220 Convict Life.
are often experienced thieves, who have escaped
detection because of their extraordinary dexterity
and expertness : surely these would be the very
worst companions for new beginners. Would
they not urge, as they have often done to
me, that if a thief is a " wide " man he need
not get caught, and that it was carelessness,
and not keeping his eyes open, that gets him
'* nabbed"?
There is an old man now at Portland who was
known amongst thieves as " the badger." He
worked side by side with me on the works, and I
learned a good deal of his history from his own
lips. I remember his joining our party on the
morning after his arrival from Woking. He
was immediately recognised by three profes-
sional thieves in our gang, who hailed from " the
smoke," which was his name for London.
He seemed to be very popular amongst his
old acquaintance, and was pronounced by them
all to be a " square man." He was a notorious
" fence." He had been buying stolen goods and
furnishing the necessary implements for burgla-
ries for more than forty years, but had until
now succeeded in eluding the vigilance of the
police. He told me himself that he always had
Report of the Commission. 221
*' wonderful luck " in discovering " good plants,"
or, in other words, "spotting" places where
burglarious entrances could be made and some-
thing worth having found. The " badger " told
me that there was scarcely an " eminent" thief in
London with whom he was not acquainted, and I
am very sure that there were few of the tricks of
his trade in which he was not proficient.
I knew another man who, amongst thieves,
took the position of an aristocrat. His name
was Shrimpton, and he was famous amongst his
" chums " as having been the hero of a hundred
successful burglaries. He had reduced lock-
picking and safe-breaking to a science, and,
unlike most thieves, had out of the proceeds of
his infamy provided for his family a comfortable
home. He resided at Brixton, and I have reason
to believe that his family were well-educated and
well-clothed and fed. Yet this man was without
private means, and had never in his life engaged
in any honest industrial pursuit. He was a con-
stitutional and scientific robber, yet so clever
that he was only detected for the first time when
he was nearly sixty years of age.
Another fellow whom I met, and who was the
hero of a long career of undetected crime, hailed
222 Convict Life.
from Birminglaam. He assured me that for
twenty years he had made heaps of money by
hotel robberies in the Midland counties, and that
he never allowed an excursion-train to leave Bir-
mingham without obtaining half-a-dozen purses
and a watch or two from travellers who were
bustling to obtain seats. He was at Portland
under his first sentence of penal servitude.
Now, such men as these should, of course, be
classified as old thieves.
I can imagine no influence so bad upon those
who are really first offenders as that of the
heroes who have for years succeeded in evading
justice, and to this influence these first offenders
would still be exposed if the recommendation of
the Commissioners were adopted. Is there a
'vj better plan, or one more likely to be effectual and
to succeed, than soHtary confinement with shorter
sentences, harder work, incentives to industry
in the shape of a reward which will give the
man a start at the close of his imprisonment,
and all this to be accompanied by some sensible
efforts for the man's intellectual and moral
reform ? I think there is no other way ; but
it is a subject well-worthy the consideration of
statesmen.
Report of the Commission. 223
Clause 102 refers to the prison dietary. I
have already said that I think it needs but
little change. For men employed at indoor
labour it is ample, men employed in the open
air might, perhaps with advantage, be allowed
a few additional ounces of bread. There are
gluttons, of course, who would never have
enough, and, as the Commissioners state, there
are degraded animals amongst the convicts with
such depraved voracity, that they will, and
would under any circumstances, gorge them-
selves with any kind of filth which comes in
their way. In the prisons where candles are
used it is quite a common thing for the
prisoners to eat their candles and sit in the
dark.
In the party with which I worked at Portland
there were half-a-dozen men who fed themselves
daily upon snails, slugs, and frogs, and they
did this not only without any interference on
the part of the officer in charge, but to his
evident amusement. I was for a short time
attached to a party at Portland whose duty it
was to drag a cart about to collect ashes and
rubbish from the different departments of the
prison. It was considered by a certain class of
224 Convict Life.
prisoners quite a privilege to be attached to
the *' cart party," on account of the refuse
food and poultices which could be fished out
of the infirmary ashes. To men of this class
no diet would be sufficient, but it may be
asserted with confidence that the prison fare
served out to them is better in quality, more
cleanly, and of larger quantity than they have
been accustomed to enjoy in the places which
they call their homes. It is not wonderful that
when so large a number of convicts feed them-
selves upon disgusting garbage of all sorts,
the prison doctor should be so constantly in
demand. As I have before intimated, his posi-
tion is one of great responsibility and delicacy,
and the Commissioners, in clauses 110 to 112,
make some very wise and sensible recommenda-
tions with reference to the selection of thoroughly-
qualified practitioners.
In clause 119, the Commissioners speak of the
dark iron cells at Portsmouth and Dartmoor, and
admit the existence of all the evils which I have
described in connection with them — their dark-
nesSjthe facilities they give for communication, and
their other evils. I do not know whether the Com-
missioners visited Portland, which is, I beheve,
Report of the Commission. 225
the largest of all the convict stations ; but they
make no mention in their report of the cells there.
There are at Portland seven distinct prisons or
halls, each one accommodating about an equal
number of prisoners. In the seven prisons the
whole of the cells are of corrugated iron, and
offer the facilities for communication which I
have described. Certainly in nine out of every
ten cells, holes have been bored to render talking
more easy ; and in exactly half of all the cells in
five of the prisons the cells are so dark, that read-
ing, except by gaslight, is quite impossible.
At clause 132, the Report refers to the inflic-
tion of corporal punishment. I quite agree with \/
the author of " Five Years' Penal Servitude." that
there arC' a class of convicts who dread no other
punishment than this. Every Englishman will be
glad to see the soldiers and sailors of England
relieved from liability to so degrading a punish-
ment ; but if my readers will refer to the descrip-
tion I have given of the character of large num-
bers of the convicts, they will perhaps perceive
that these men cannot be humiliated, and that
nothing can add to their degradation. They have
no moral sensibilities, appeals to their reason would
be of no avail, and as to their conscience, I do
Q
226 Convict Life.
not fancy they have known its voice for many
a long day. There is one thing, and only one
thing, of which they stand in mortal dread — the
cat.
Many of them care nothing about loss of marks,
and in fact prefer to do all their sentences, because
they are released from police supervision : loss of
food they do not like ; but the cat is their mortal
aversion. I must do the authorities the justice to
say that I have never seen it resorted to except
for heinous offences ; but I am quite sure that if
its use were abolished there are a certain class of
prisoners who would be quite uncontrollable. All
sorts of brutal violence towards both prisoners
and officers would be common but for the fear
of the lash. I know this from the admissions
of the men themselves. A strong proof of its
deterrent effects occurs to me.
It has been a custom for many years at Port-
land for the prisoners to sing songs in their cells
on Christmas-night. So long as this custom was
kept within bounds it was to a certain extent
tolerated; but at Portland the evil grew more
obnoxious and unbearable every year. On the
Christmas of 1876 all sorts of vulgar, indecent,
and beastly songs were sung aloud, and the prison
Report of the Commission. 227
reverberated witli obscene and disgusting lan-
guage, shouts of defiance to the authorities, and
the free use of damnatory epithets. On the fol-
lowing day a good many men were reported and
subjected to bread-and- water punishment, loss of
marks, &c. This had no effect whatever.
On the Christmas-night of 1877 the same game
was not only repeated, but in the prison called F
north, in which the Roman Catholic prisoners are
located, the blasphemous and obscene language
and the filthy and disgusting songs were beyond
all description horrible and hellish. Mr. Clifton
was called up after midnight, and was himself a
witness of what was going on. He carefully and
very properly satisfied himself of the identity of a
score of the worst offenders, and at the next visit
of the director, and on the recommendation of the
governor, these men got " two dozen."
On the Christmas-night of 1878 perfect order
and quiet reigned throughout the prison. Com-
ment is unnecessary. The only wonder is, that
with undoubted evidence before them of what is
the only punishment which these pests of society
dread, the judges and prison authorities do not
more often resort to it.
In clause 142, the Commissioners refer to the
Q 2
228 Convict Life.
question of evidence given by warders against
prisoners for breaking rules. It is no doubt the
fact that a great many men are punished on the
testimony of officers, the men being entirely inno-
cent of what is charged against them ; and, for
the reasons I have given in another place, un-
principled officers make scapegoats of the most
guileless class of prisoners, and almost never of
" second timers" and old thieves, who, on the
other hand, enjoy their confidence. This evil can
only be effectually cured by the exercise of more
care in the selection of officers, and by paying
them better.
It would be of course dangerous to take the
evidence of prisoners against officers, for I
regret to say that mendacity is so very general
amongst convicts, that it is considered quite the
right thing for a man to say ariything which will
gain his end. I think, however, that the evil
might be somewhat checked if officers were
compelled always to give their testimony upon
oath. There must, I think, be some, even
amongst the worst class of officers, who would
hesitate to swear to a lie ; though from my
experience of others, I fear they would not
hesitate to carry their point even if they had to
Report of the Commission. 229
swear upon a whole stack of Bibles. There can
be no doubt that vice is infectious, and I believe
that a large number of prison ofl&cials, being
themselves destitute of a very high morality,
have from long association not only imbibed the
slang and the mendacity, but some other of the
bad qualities of habitual thieves. Convict prisons
are Augean stables, which require a great deal
of cleansing in all their departments.
At clause 147 the Commissioners, speaking
of the custom of corrupt officials making money
by supplying prisoners with tobacco, recommend
that officers should be subjected to a search
similar to that adopted in the Custom-House.
It does not seem to have occurred to them
that in public-works prisons this would not
remedy the evil at all. The custom both at
Portland and Dartmoor was for the officer to
"plant" the supplies of tobacco upon the
works outside the prison. This the warder
could do in the evening after his duties were
over and he had left the prison, or in the early
morning. The prisoner was of course informed
where it was deposited. If the customer hap-
pened to be employed inside the prison walls,
it was always easy for him to find a chum in
230 Convict Life.
a neighbouring cell who worked out-of-doors,
and who would for a consideration act as his
agent and carrier. The only remedy for this
in public-works prisons is in the selection of a
better class of officers.
It may, perhaps, interest the directors of the
convict department to know that, at Portland, a
large quantity of tobacco finds its way into the
prison which does not come through the hands of
the officers. I was once at work near a cluster
of huts, which were occupied by Serjeants and
corporals of the Engineer corps.
The wives of these men, actuated by the
kindest of motives, were accustomed to throw
pieces of tobacco at night where they knew the
prisoners would finii them in the morning. I did
not care for the tobacco, but I must plead guilty
to having once found a jam tart, carefully wrapped
up in a London evening paper of the previous day.
I relished the tart, but I gloated over the news-
paper. By-the-by I loaned that newspaper to
another prisoner, who was careless enough to get
caught with it, and was reported. On his appear-
ance before the governor, that gentleman, on
inspecting the date, exclaimed, " Dear me, you
get your news almost as soon as I do. You
Report of the Commission. 231
will have three days and forfeit eighty-four
marks."
Then the men connected with the Artillery
corps are good-natured sometimes, and prisoners
are able to make a much cheaper arrangement
with them than with prison warders. The market
price of cavendish tobacco obtained through a
"screw" is ten shillings per pound, and even
then he furnishes the very commonest description.
Then it must be remembered that, when he ob-
tains the usual five-pound note from the prisoner's
friends, it is the rule that he should take half for
running the risk ; so that, including his profit on
the tobacco, he gets four pounds out of the five.
If a prisoner chooses to trust a soldier, he gets
his business transacted on more liberal terms.
There is still another class at Portland who drive
a trade amongst the "lags." There are several
free men employed upon the works in charge of
horses, which are necessary for the removal of
trucks along the trams. These men are not paid
directly by the department, but by contractors
who furnish the horses. They earn about four-
teen shillings a week, — high wages for Dorset-
shire, but not so high as to make them fight shy
when a sovereign is to be made out of a " lag."
232 Convict Life.
I recollect two very good old fellows. One was
short of an arm and the other of a leg ; they both
had large families to support, and the only chance
they had of providing a good dinner now and
then for the bairns was by indulging in a little
illicit trade with the *' lags."
In other clauses the Commissioners in re-
ferring to the labour of convicts allude inci-
dentally to the popular delusion that there is
some injustice to the industrial classes in allow-
ing the results of convict labour to come in
competition with free labour. 'Now, of course
care should be taken, on all accounts, that no
articles produced should be sold for less than
the market price, but taking for granted that
this is done, no injustice would be done to any
individual by making convict labour remunera-
vl tive and profitable. It should be remembered
that all these convicts ought to belong to the
industrial classes, and that if they were doing
their duty they would be taking their fair share
in the labour of the country, earning their bread
by the sweat of their brow, and adding to the
wealth and prosperity of the country. Why, in
the name of common sense, should they not be
made to do this in prison ?
Report of the Commission. 233
Again, if all the convicts were earning tlieir
subsistence, the reduction in taxation would far
more than compensate for the infinitesimally
small difference which their added labour might
make in the wages paid for the articles they
manufactured. There are between thirty and
forty millions of people in these islands, but,
fearfully large as is the number of convicts, there
are of the latter not fifteen thousand. One-half
of these are too lazy, or too impotent to work,
and the labour of the remainder, even if it
were made, as it should be, remunerative and
profitable, would make no sensible difference
to the industrial classes.
The Commissioners suggest many valuable
reforms, but there is only one other upon which
I think it is necessary to comment. I mean the
recommendation that suitable persons should be
appointed to visit and inspect the convict prisons,
and overrule and rectify the mistakes made by
governors. As I have said in a former chapter,
there is now an expensive machinery in the shape
of a board of directors, which is almost valueless.
It is chiefly composed of men who have been
governors of convict prisons, and who are wedded
to the stereotyped abuses connected with their
234 Convict Life.
management. The Commissioners recommend
that some suitable gentlemen, members of Parlia-
ment or otherwise, who would volunteer for the
oflBce, should be appointed to visit and inspect the
prisons. The suggestion is a most valuable one,
but I adhere to the opinion I have expressed
before that the present board of directors should
be superseded by some one responsible head,
whose prejudices should not be too favourable
to the governors, and who should occupy his
time in visiting all the prisons, and making a
careful and conscientious investigation of all
abuses and complaints.
The advantage to the community of the
Criminal Investigation Department, under the
able management of Mr. Howard Vincent, cannot
be over-estimated. He will, no doubt, if not
over-ruled, originate reforms which will bring the
criminal class under more direct control. If a
man of similar energy, ability, and conscientious-
ness were selected to supervise the prisons,
I have no doubt that a marked reform would
soon exhibit itself in the morale of both oflScers
and prisoners.
Convict Life. 235
CHAPTER IX.
SUGGESTIONS AND SUMMAEY.
IIST what I have said in the preceding chapters
I have not shown sympathy with crime
or with the criminal class. I certainly feel
none. My object has been to show that the law
has to deal with a large number of prisoners who
do not belong to the absolutely criminal class,
and that to these men it is at present acting
unwisely and unjustly. It is not only in the
interests of the prisoners that I have argued
thus, but chiefly in the interests of society.
Thieves are a pest and a plague to the whole
community ; and if I have proved, as I think I
have, that convict prisons are at present high
schools of crime, and manufactories for thieves,
then, believing as I do that statesmen of both
political parties are desirous to remedy abuses
when they have found them, I have great confi-
236 Convict Life.
dence that measures will shortly be taken to
remedy the evils I have pointed out.
I know that it is very easy to find fault, but
fortunately there are no serious obstacles in the
way of reform. Sir Wilfrid Lawson, in his
crusade against public-houses, has to contend
with vested interests. He has to fight against
a well-disciplined phalanx of brewers and pub-
licans whose interests are directly opposed to his
success. Here there is nothing of the sort. In
the reform I seek, the interest of every man,
woman, and child in the community is directly
concerned. I ask the Government to take all
those stray sheep who, under the influence of
drink or ignorance or poverty have wandered
out of the highway of honour, and teach them
that their own interests are identified with
sobriety and honest industry. If it be true, and
it surely is, that instead of doing this the Govern-
ment is now allowing men of this class to be
tutored by old thieves in all those cunning arts
which will qualify them to be professional ma-
rauders in the future, why I need add no argu-
ment to show that the reform should be prompt
and searching.
First of all, then, it is necessary that there
Suggestions and Summary. 237
should be a classification of prisoners, and in this
matter great discrimination should be exercised.
There are a great many prisoners who do not
belong to the criminal class, and who yet have
been previously convicted of some petty offence.
This is especially true of the agricultural class.
Giles's record shows that he once had a month
for assaulting the police when he was drunk,
and, what is worse than all in the view of
Quarter Sessions magnates, he has once been
convicted of consorting with poachers. Down
the poor fellow goes for seven years, most likely
the best seven years of his hfe.
Take another case, that of an educated man
who has once been convicted of a trifling mis-
demeanour, and has been sentenced to pay a fine
or go to prison in default. He pays the fine,
but the conviction is registered against him.
At a later period of his life he commits a not
very heinous offence under the pressure of po-
verty. It is felony ; his old peccadillo is hunted
up by the police, and he gets seven years.
Now, I think that common sense says that
twelve months of solitary confinement, with strict
discipline and good reformatory treatment, might
make reputable citizens of such men ; but if the
238 Convict Life.
taxpayers are to be saddled with the cost of their
families in the workhouses, and themselves in the
convict prisons, for seven years, the Govern-
ment should not herd them with the professional
criminal class to which they do not belong, and
with which, although they have broken the law,
they have no sympathy. These men may safely
be classed with any men who are sentenced to
penal servitude for the first time and have had
no previous conviction; and they are equally
amenable to good influences.
The important question now arises. What
is to be done with incorrigible thieves ? I have
suggested that three or four years of solitary
confinement and hard work, accompanied by good
educational, moral, and religious training, will
reform a man if his reform be possible. I do
not think the Government need trouble them-
selves about the contamination of re-convicted
men who have undergone such a training. They
are, practically, incorrigible, and it becomes the
duty of the State to take care that they shall
not again become a pest to society. Why should
men who have had a fair chance, and yet give
proof that they do not intend to exist except by
plunder, be let loose again upon the community ?
Suggestions and Summary. 239
I would recommend that men who have once
gone through the probation of solitary confine-
ment should, upon re-conviction, receive a long
sentence, and that during the sentence they
should, if not physically incapable, be kept at
hard and remunerative labour. It is admitted
that except at Dartmoor there will, in three years
from this, be no out-door employment at any of
the existing stations. Now, what is to prevent
the Government from employing these incorri-
gible thieves in mining operations ? If I am
not mistaken there are estates of the Crown in
Cornwall and elsewhere Avhich might be made
avilaable, and beyond doubt there is mineral
wealth in Scotland and in Ireland which is only
waiting to be unearthed.
My idea is that up to now the Government
have been too tender in their care of incorrigible
thieves. Granted that minina^ is arduous and
dangerous work, why should we be more careful
of the lives and limbs of men who have given
ample proof that they respect neither life nor
property than we are of the lives and limbs of
our honest and industrious fellow-countrymen,
who from childhood to old age toil on in honest
industry, not only bearing their own burdens.
240 Convict Life.
but contributing to the general wealth and
prosperity of their country ? Echo answers —
Why?
It is a mistake to suppose that habitual thieves
have any dread of penal servitude in its present
form. Of course they do their best to elude the
vigilance of the police, because their highest
notion of happiness in this world is to be free, in
order that they may prey upon society and spend
the proceeds in debauchery and drunkenness;
but if caught and sentenced to penal servitude
it its present form, they can, to use their own
expression, "do it on their heads." Let them
understand that they would have to "do it on
their heads " in a coal-mine, with an occasional
taste of the "cat" as an incentive to industry,
and take my word for it a very large number
would be most anxious to give penal servitude a
very wide berth. I presume the Government to
be anxious to abate crime, and I do not ask them
to make the lot of tLese re-convicted men harder
than that of tens of thousands of our honest
fellow-countrymen. Why not give the experi-
ment a trial ?
The question will then arise as to what is to be
done with them after ten or fifteen years of mining.
p
Suggestions and Summary. 241
Well, I think the community should still be
protected against them. I see no objection to >/
compulsory emigration. An island colony might
easily be found where, if they were willing to till
the ground, they could obtain a subsistence. Let
the Government furnish them with the imple-
ments of labour, and with the necessary means to
raise the first crop, and let them be given to
understand that they would have to live under
the "royal law" that if a man will not work
neither shall he eat. The island might be under
military law, which would summarily punish
offenders. If they determined still to be birds
of prey they could only prey upon each other, and
would cease to be a curse and a nuisance to
honest men.
I know that this recommendation is revolu-
tionary, but if by a revolution in this matter
the thief class could within the next twenty
years be reduced two-thirds, would it not be
a wise and wholesome and economical revolu-
tion ? I have entire faith in its success.
I have studied the character of this thief class,
and I am certain that if they had the punish-
ments I have depicted in prospect, they would
try to escape them, and as a last resource
B
242 Convict Life.
perhaps actually resort to honest labour, for the
means to live.
The Commissioners at the end of their recent
Report summarised their recommendations. Let
me follow their example : —
1. That in order to prevent contamination of
the less - hardened convicts by old and habitual
offenders, or by those who perpetrate enormous
or unnatural crimes, distinct prisons should be
provided for them, and a special reformatory
discipline instituted.
2. That it is advisable this class of prisoner
should receive shorter sentences ; and that as it is
all but impossible to decide what prisoners are
morally infectious, the system should be solitary
confinement.
3. That the work of this class of prisoner
should if possible be done in his cell, and under
the supervision of properly-qualified officers of
undoubted integrity.
4. That in order to relieve the monotony of the
prison life, and at the same time to afford the
prisoner opportunities for obtaining good counsel
and intellectual food, he should at convenient
times receive constant visits from the chaplain
and from properly-qualified readers.
Suggestions and Summary. 243
5. That it is advisable to give to the un-
educated more ample opportunities to acquire
instruction and improvement by tuition, by
good books regularly and appropriately dis-
tributed, and by periodical lectures during the
winter.
6. That it would be wise in the chaplains to urge
practical godliness rather than doctrinal religion,
to take care that no prisoner makes capital out
of professions of piety, and to cease the ad-
ministration of sacramental mysteries to men
who it is well known accept them from im-
proper and impure motives.
7. That while the work done by the prisoner
should be earnest and unremitting, and calculated
to fit him for a life of industry, it should also be
remunerative to himself; and that as an incentive
to industry the prisoner should clearly understand
that the amount he is to receive on discharge will
depend upon the amount of work he has accom-
plished.
8. That on discharge, a prisoner of this class
should receive serviceable clothes of good quality,
adapted to his station in life and the trade he
seeks employment in.
9. That the supervision of discharged men
R 2
244 Convict Life.
should be entrusted to discreet and acute officers
of good judgment and education, who would pro-
tect and encourage those whom they found pursu-
ing a life of honest industry, and seek the rapid
re-conviction of incorrigible thieves.
10. That it is advisable that officers entrusted
with the control of convicts should be selected
with more care and discrimination than are
at present exercised ; and that it would be wise
to appoint in the place of the present directors
some one responsible head, who would visit and
supervise all the prisons, and carefully report and
remedy all abuses.
11. That, in addition to this alteration, it would
be well to adopt the recommendation of the
Commissioners as to the appointment of Visitors
unconnected with the Convict Department, and
unpaid.
12. That it is advisable to render the lives of
determined and habitual thieves who are re-con-
victed more distasteful to them, and that it would
be wise to employ them in arduous labour,
which should be made remunerative to the State.
Lastly. That in view of the fact, that the
number of professional thieves is largely on the
increase, it is advisable to lessen the evil by
Postscript. 245
providing for tlie compulsory emigration, after
a certain number of years of labour, of re-
convicted men, and their location on some island
where they would have no opportunity to rob
the honest and industrious ; and where, if again
convicted, they could be dealt with summarily
by the infliction of corporal punishment under
military law.
I may mention, as against the probable
argument that this last recommendation could
not be carried out, that the Emperor of Brazil
has adopted this very system, and with eminent
success.
POSTSCRIPT.
THE Report of the Directors of the Convict
Department for 1878 was issued whilst this
work was in the Press. In it there is an
evident attempt made to whitewash the present
system, with the view of preventing any radical
cbange. In reference to it I will only say that
all the evils described in this work existed in
full force, not only during the year to which the
246 Convict Life.
Report has reference, but after its publication
at the end of September, 1879.
There is in the Report an intimation that in
order to provide labour for convicts it will be
necessary to inaugurate some new public works.
The construction of a harbour at Filey Bay
upon the east coast is hinted at. I am not
prepared to say that such a work is not a great
national requirement ; but I think that it would
be well for the guardians of the public purse
to keep their eyes open, in order that no scheme
may be adopted for the mere purpose of creating
labour for convicts. If more millions are to be
spent in these hard times, it should surely be
in works for which there is a real necessity, and
which would benefit the whole community.
I would also suggest that whatever may be
the new field of labour, it will provide a good
opportunity for removing from the existing
prisons two or three thousand of old thieves who
have been convicted for a second or third time.
This would be one important step towards the
separation of the whole brood of habitual
criminals from men of whom there may be some
hope, and who are not altogether abandoned and
incorrigible.
Postscript. 247"
In the Times newspaper of September 30tli,
also published after this work was in the Press,
an able editorial thus comments upon the system
which has engendered the evils depicted in these
pages : — " The fact is indisputable that convict
prisons are excellent cages, but very indifferent
reformatories. The Royal Commission has pointed
out a defect in the classification of prisoners,
which is partly accountable for the melancholy
failure. The graduates in crime love their art,
and console themselves, like a lame actor or a
hoarse tenor, with teaching it to freshmen.
Hitherto no attempt has been made to separate
habitual offenders from beginners. A consequence
known to all the world, except perhaps the Home
Office, has been that the prisons educate as many
professional criminals as the receivers of stolen
goods."
Referring to the proposed new works at Filey
Bay the same writer remarks : — " The directors
suggest, as a mode of meeting the want, that a
harbour at Filey Bay or elsewhere might be dug
by convict labour, or that a large convict farm
might be commenced. A prison would have to
be built in the neighbourhood of the works. Such
a prison could hardly be monopolized by prisoners
248 Convict Life.
convicted for the first time. Habitual offenders
require outdoor labour as much at least as their
juniors. There is, however, no necessity for the
erection of two prisons, provided that one be so
divided between the two classes of criminals that
they do not live or work in company. Such a
separation is not only obviously necessary, but
easy of accomplishment." Upon this I would
remark that existing prisons can accommodate
all first offenders, and that any new works should
be made the exclusive home of incorrigibles.
WYMAN AND SONS, PRINTERS, GREAT QUEEN STREET, LONDON, W.C.
LINCOLN'S-INN
STEAM PRINTING E, STATIONERY WORKS.
(NEAR THE INNS OF COURT AND THE BRITISH MUSEUM.)
^^^^^ WYMAN & SONS,
^^EI^MFI^^S PRINTERS AND PUBLISHERS,
^^^^^flg^"^ Undertake Every Description of
WOOD & COPPERPLATE ENGRAVING. LITHOGRAPHY. & BOOKBINDING.
"T^O AUTHORS AND OTHERS.— Messrs. WYMAN & SONS,
-*- Printers, Engravers, Stationers, Bookbinders, and Publishers,
invite the attention of Authors to the Facilities offered by their Establishment for the
COMPLETE PRODUCT/UN' of BOOKS of every description, all Departments of
the Business being carried on under tJie immediate Personal Superintendence of the Firm,
Inclusive Estimates promptly forwarded, and liberal arrangements mdde with Authors
for the publication of their MSS., whether Scientific, Artistic, or Works of Fiction.
Crown 8vo. , coloured v.Tapper, with illustrations, price 6d.
Notes and Anticipations of the Grand
NATIONAL STEEPLECHASE, 1880, AT ST. STEPHENS'S. A PoUtical Satire.
By ELAB.
Second Edition, Demy 8vo., price is.; post free, is. id.
The Present Parliament :
A Complete Analysis of each Member's Vote on all the principal divisions. By HARRY
T. EVE, of Exeter College, O.xford, and Lincoln's Inn, London.
Fcap. 8vo., cloth gilt, price 2s. 6d.
King Alfred, and other Poems.
By PERCY RUSSELL.
" We not only read through the volume, but thoroughly enjoyed the reading. Mr. Russell has poetic
feeling, and does not offend one's ears with false quantities." — Brief.
Third Edition, royal 8vo. , cloth, price 5s. ; post-free, 5s. 4d.
A Manual of the Statutes of Limitation.
Showing the time within which the ownership of property must be asserted and exercised,
or actions commenced to prevent the operation of these statutes, viz. — Barring the
remedy for obtaining or extinguishing the right to such property. By JAMES
■WALTER, Esq., Member of the Incorporated Law Society.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, ^N.Q»
Yvyiiiau oc ooiis, jrnnierSj fUDiisners, occ.
Crown 8vo., cloth, price 6s., post free. In paper cover, price 2S,
The Felthams ; or, Contrasts in Crime.
A story of thrilling interest. By FRANZ.
" A powerful story of the Charles Reade school .... The situations are unusually strong, and
quicken the reader's pulse as they pass before him." — Bookseller.
" It is a welcome relief to have a melo-dramatic tale with its vivid contrasts and its rapid changes of
scenery and persons .... In 'The Felthams ' there is not a little of force and literary skill, and
the whole tone of the story is excellent .... The tale is lively and attractive." — Lite ra>y World.
" There is no lack of incident in this novel, and the attention of the reader is closely held throughout,
nor is he likely to anticipate, as in many works of fiction, the course and final development of the plot,
which is skilfully constructed, and in some of its situations is most thrilling." — Capital and Labour.
" There is much variety in the incidents, and we think it will be regarded as one of the best novels of
the year." — News of the World.
'■ The story is told with considerable ingenuity." — City Press.
" The result is a tale which exhibits considerable ^lOvieT."— Broad Arroiu. •
" Is readable throughout, and neither so extravagant nor repulsive in its incidents as might be
conjectured from its title." — Queen.
\ The plots are well conceived and cleverly worked out, the characters too are drawn with a
skilful hand .... The denouement being most dramatically told." — Pictorial World.
"'The Felthams,' a story by Franz, is published in novelette form- -that is, in a single volume —
but its length exceeds, nevertheless, that of most three-volume novels. It is a tale of strong intere,st,
but too much crowded with melodramatic and painful details to suit the tastes of quiet readers." —
Trjifk.
"Full of changeful incidents of a highly sensational realistic kind, 'The Felthams' carries its
readers briskly along from chapter to chapter, strengthening the interest as it goes, and is just that
kind of story in which novel-readers are likely to take most delight. The character of Tightdraw,
the unscrupulous spider-like lawyer, and his equally unscrupulous clerk, Snigge, are amongst the most
strongly drawn in the volume, which will probably become popular." — Illustrated Sporting and
Dramatic Ne7vs.
"A novel in one portly little volume, moving briskly amongst its well-defined characters, with
incidents diverse and varied in their nature and action, is tolerably sure to be a favourite with
most novel-readers. It is exciting without being morbidly sensational, and never falls into the other
extreme of milk-and-water lameness .... 'The Felthams' is likely to be popular." — Walter
Pellutms Illustrated 'Journal.
"This novel will enchain the reader's attention from the first to the last page." — Brie/.
"The story is thoroughly wholesome in tone, and at same time displaying signs of genuine power." —
Public Opinion.
'•The plot is well sustained throughout, and young and old will find an excellent moral in the talc." —
Weekly Times.
" A tale of the present period, full of incidents of a more or less startling character. Some — indeed,
several — of the scenes in the story are powerfully and vividly depicted. The interest in the principal
personages is so well maintained throughout that the reader never tires over the pages of a somewhat
portly volume, and that because its contents are entertaining." — Reynolds's News,
" Among stories of a sensational or melodramatic character 'The Felthams' is entitled to a respectable
place . _. . . There is good stuff in the book.".— .Jwwrfiriy T'/w^.
" This is the work of a writer belonging to the school which the productions of Miss Braddon have
made so popular, and in the present instance there is sufiicient of mystery and plotting to satisfy the
most exacting, while the details are so clearly and unobtrusively worked out that the attention of the
reader is secured to the end .... The novel cannot fail to please all who admire vigorous and
powerful description, accompanied by appropriate and well-written dialogue." — Clerkenwell News.
" The ' crime ' which figures in the title is far less in both quantity and quality than that which engages
the attention of the readers of lady-novelists' works. The nervous but repressed character of the chief
heroine is thoroughly well drawn .... A double thread of love-interest runs through the book,
brightening and enlivening it as only such interest can do ... . The young girl, Ellen, is a most
admirable bit of work ; she and the old foster-mother of Ralph stand out with a prominence that may
serve to indicate to Franz where his truest talent lies. The story is clever, interesting, and carefully
worked OMt." —Sylvia's Home jfournal.
" On the whole the work has considerable merit .... We think it gives good promise of a
futiire performance ; at least two of the characters, those of the lawyer, Mr. Tightdraw, and Mrs.
Feltham are well drawn." — Liverpool Albion.
"The interest is well maintained throughout the tale. The judicious arrangement of so intricate
a plot marks undoubted capabilities for storj'-telling." — Birmingham Daily Gazette.
The Felthams ' is characterized by some strong and many good points .... Crime is
contrasted in a very effective way." — Edinburgh Daily Ne^vs.
" Franz shows considerable dramatic power .... There are other characters drawn with a
skilful hand .... the story is skilfully told and some smart pieces of character delineation
occur in the book."— iVor/A British Daily Mail.
"It cannot be said the story is a very pleasant one, though those who delight in fiction of a strong and
exciting kind will probably read it with 'vaX.ex^%l."— Newcastle Weekly Chronicle.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, 'W.C.
w
Wyman & Sons, Printers, Publishers, &c.
Library Edition. Demy 8vo., cloth, price los. 6d. Cheap edition, crown 8vo., price 2S.
Convict Life ; or, Revelations concerning
CONVICTS AND CONVICT PRISONS. By a TICKET-OF-LEAVE MAN.
' ' If only half of the startling disclosures made by this intelligent convict be true, he
has made out a strong case for Government interference."
"The author claims to be a good authority on the subject, because he is now a ticket-of-leave man. A
terrible domestic affliction drove him into dissipation, and the end of his madness was that he committed
the crime which made him a convict I'or ses'en years. His remarks are exceedingly valuable. He shows
himself to be a man of keen perception, and a good deal of sound common sense, and it is strictly true
that he makes out his case in the majority of the charges which he considers it necessary to bring against
the present convict system. . . . When the ' Ticket-of-leave- Man ' was serving his time, two of his
associates were preparing the details of a plan which threatened ruin to foreign bankers, principally upon
the American continent." — Standard.
" Is a very remarkable book. It is written by a person who has had six years' experience of prison life,
so that he writes about his subject with the knowledge that springs from painful familiarity. ... It is
unquestionably an able, a suggestive, and powerful book." — Daily Telegraph.
"It may, at all events, be said that the author's statements are definite, even painfully minute and
specific ; and that many of his suggestions for improvement must commend themselves to the common
sense of readers. Our prisons, according to the writer, practically corrupt rather than improve their
inmates. It would seem, at least, that the police authorities should be interested in the writer's dis-
closures."— Daily Ne-ws.
" The author is evidently a man of good education, and he has contrived to shape his complaints into a
well-written and interesting book. Many strange stories of prison life, and many heartrending details of
progress in crime are given. Like most painful subjects this has its ludicrous side, and one cannot
repress a smile at the ' dodges ' which the old hands are ' up to ' in order to avoid work and get into the
infirmary-." — Morning' Post.
" Wholesale accusations of favouritism and cruelty are brought against warders and governors, and the
most dogmatic opinions are expressed with respect to the whole system of prison discipline. . . . If only
a portion of the revelations are founded on facts, Portland must be a scene of great corruption." — Daily
Chronicle.
"There is such an air of sincerity in this author's book that the alleged experiences which he relates
are well worthy of consideration and inquiry. ... In regard to the liquor traffic he has some strange
stories to tell which would be profitable reading for licensing magistrates." — Echo.
" Despite the interesting nature of some of the author's experiences in prison, and although his literary
talent is by no means despicable, the affectation of superiority which pervades the narrative is infinitely
irritating." — Globe.
" A 'Ticket-of-leave Man' furnishes some remarkable statements — statements which will be found
exceedingly unpalatable in certain quarters, and not a little alarming in others, and which are given with
a vigour of enunciation and absence of reserve which should betoken conviction. There is a strong case
here for further investigation." — AiJientrutn.
" The book is not without great value. There can be no excuse for leaving matters as they are. The
classification of criminals, the enforcement of real solitary confinement, and the dismissal of dishonest
officials, offer no difficulty whatever. . . . The suggestions contained in this book are well worth the
consideration of the whole tax-paying public, and will, we trust, obtain the attention they deserve." —
£j:aminer.
" There are one or two cases in which he brings charges against certain officers who could be easily
identified, and these charges certainly should be examined into. If they are proved to be false, the
author should be prosecuted for libel, and his book suppressed. If they are proved to be true, he will
have done good service."— Sa/ttrday Review.
" After the perusal of this volume we think that the reader will come to the conclusion that as regards
our prisons, there is much need for reform, that they cost a great deal too much money, and do a great
deal too little good. It is the merit of this book that in it the author shows how persons enter prisons
mere novices m crime, and by the fostering care of a paternal government in these high schools of
rascality, leave it thorough adepts in the arts of thieving." — Literary World.
" The author is, he assures us, a ticket-of-leave man, and his chapters unquestionably indicate an
intimate acquaintance with the inner life of Portland and Dartmoor. His object is to show that our jails
and penal settlements are ' hotbeds of crime ' ; and his facts bearing on this point are startling." — Truth.
" What a hell upon earth a convict prison must be ! It would be a wholesome step if the Government
would buy the copyright, print a cheap edition, and distribute the book broadcast throughout the land —
in every counting-house, in every office, in ever>' manufactory, nay, in everj- school. Assuredly no man
or boy, after reading these pages — more dramatic than any drama, more tragic than any tragedy — would
allow himself even to M/«.4 of crime." — IVhiteltnll Rerie^v.
" It is powerfully written, and is, we emphatically say, one of the most startling and terrible works
ever placed before the public. To our thinking the Ticket-of-Leave Man's words bear marks of
veracity." — Vanity Fair.
"The book may find many readers, for it is as interesting as revelations of crime and prison-life can
well be." — May/air.
" What we most admire is the writer's honesty of purpose." — Brief.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, W.C.
Yv yman oc sons, Jtriniers, t'UDiisners, occ.
A MOST ELEGANT PRESENT FOR A LADY.
An Entirely Novel Work on Table Decoration. In Folio, with 24 Original Designs in
Chromo-Lithography. Price Thirty Shillings.
Floral Designs for the Table :
Plain Directions for its Ornamentation with Cut Flowers and Fruit, Classified Lists of
Suitable Plants, Leaves, Berries, &c. ; and Twenty-four Original Coloured Designs for
decorating Breakfast, Luncheon, Dinner, and Supper Tables at a moderate cost.
"We have no hesitation in saying that the work of Mr. Perkins now before us is one of the
most elegant and useful gift-books of the present season. The very cover of it is a model of design
and execution, and the whole get-up of the book does infinite credit to the Messrs. Wyman & Sons,
who are the printers and publishers of it. Most, if not all, the designs are quite novel, and many
of them are to be commended as much for their extreme simplicity as for theu exquisite elegance."
— The Queen.
" The production of this most beautiful and instructive volume is most opportune. It consists
of a series of directions for the ornamentation of the table with leaves, flowers, and fruit, and it
contains also classified lists of suitable plants, berries, and leaves for that purpose. Some of the
designs are most beautiful ones, and the work, as a whole, is a most unconditional success. We
can recommend any of our readers who are in want of a book on this subject to obtain one and
judge for themselves. Many of the single designs are worth, to host or hostess, the money asked
for the entire volume. The binding of the work is most handsome, forming in itself a table
ornament." — Land and Water.
"This richly-ornamented volume comprises a series of original coloured designs, with directions
for table decoration with leaves, flowers, and fruit ; and, by the assistance of the letterpress, the
reader will have no difficulty in perceiving the effect that is mtended." — Daily News.
" The designs for the decoration of dmner, luncheon, and supper tables are, with scarcely an
exception, perfect of their kind, and some few are absolutely perfect." — Morning Advertiser.
"Much taste and ingenuity have been displayed in the elaboration of the designs, and a fresh
era in floral table decoration will be inaugurated by the present work." — Court Journal.
■'The book contains a vast number of very pretty designs, and a list of the plants from which
the decorations are to be selected." — World.
" The letterpress is illustrated by a series of illustrations, which, with their bright colour and
artistic design, make the volume itself a work of art." — May/air.
Second Edition, 282 pages, demy 8vo. Profusely Illustrated, price is. 6d.
The Official Handbook of New Zealand.
A Collection of Papers by experienced Colonists, on the Colony as a whole, and on the
several Provinces. Edited by Sir JULIUS VOGEL, K.C.M.G.
" This handbook is a work of considerable value and importance to all who are thinking of
emigrating, and also to all who have commercial relations with our rising colony. It describes New
Zealand from a New Zealand point of view, and has the advantages of being thoroughly reliable
and authentic." — Blackburn Standard.
Second edition, demy 8vo., price is. ; post-free, is. i^.
The England of the Pacific ; or, New
Zealand as an English Middle-Class Emigration Field. By ARTHUR CLAYDEN,
Author of "The Revolt of the Field."
There are Eight Full-page Illustrations, a Reprint of the Letters to the Daily News
on the "English Agricultural Labourer in New Zealand," a Narrative of a Ride on
Horseback through the North Island, Sketches of Settlers" Homes, and a variety of
interesting particulars respecting New Zealand.
Price IS. 6d. ; p)Ost-free, is. 7d. ; pap)er boards.
A Month in the Coasting Trade :
A True Narrative. By E. A., J. S. C, & J. A. R.
" This is a highly amusing account of a cruise in a vessel of small tonnage .... and worse sea
stories have been written, and with more pretentiousness about them." — Liverpool Mercury.
" The work is very readable." — Journal 0/ Comtiurce.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, W.C.
Wyman & Sons, Printers, Publishers, &c.
Crown 8vo., cloth gilt, price 12s.
Russia in 1870.
By HERBERT BARRY, late Director of the Chepeleffsky Estates and Iron Works in
the Governments of Vladimir, Tambov, and Nijny Novgorod, Empire of Russia, Author
of " Russian Metallurgical Works."
Contents : On Mr. Dixon's Book " FreeJRussia" ; Old Abuses and late Reforms ;
The People ; Towns and Villages ; Priests, Church, and Emperor ; Sports and Pastimes ;
Manufactures and Trade ; Ways and Communications ; Siberia ; The Great Fair of
Nijny Novgorod ; The Central Asian Question ; Conclusion.
TO FREEMASONS.
Now ready, is. 6d., blue cloth ; post free, is. jd.
Masonic Points,
Being Authorized Cues in the Masonic Rituals of the E.A., F.C., and M.M. Degrees,
and of those in the Royal Holy Arch. JV By Brother JADU.
Copy of Commu7iication from H.R.H. the M. W.G.M.
" Freemasons' Hall, London, W.C.
25th October, 1876.
" Dear Sir and Brothkr, — I have this morning received a note from Mr. F. Knollys, Private
Secretary to the Prince of Wales, requesting me to convey to you the thanks of his Royal Highness
for the book you have been good enough to send him — a request with which I have much pleasure in
complying. — I am, dear Sir, yours fraternally, JOHN HERVEY, G.S.
"To Bro. JAdu, 74, Great Queen-street, W.C.
Demy 4to., price 6s.
Tables of Roman Law.
By M. A. FANTON, Docteur en Droit. Translated and edited by C. W. LAW, of the
Nliddle Temple, Barrister-at-La\v.
" Here, in fifteen Tables, we have the four books of the Institutes of Justinian,as to the ancient Roman
law regarding persons, things, and actions. The first book gives some general notions respecting the
meaning of the words Justitia and Jus, and treats of persons. The second, relating to things,
treats of the means of acquiring particular objects, of successions to deceased persons, legacies, and
trusts. The third deals with inheritances and obligations. The fourth treats of obligations and
actions. The tables seem to be well translated and clearly arranged." — The Builder.
Second Edition, price 2s. 6d., cloth, flush.
The Law of Mutual Life Assurance.
By THOMAS BRETT, Esq., LL.B. (Lond. Univ.), of the Middle Temple, Barrister-
at-Law, late Scholar and Student, Trinity College, Dublin. Reprinted with considerable
additions from the Review of October, 1871. .To which are appended full Reports of
the Decisions of Lord Cairns in the Kent Mutual Society's Case, and of Mr. Justice
Fry in Miss Winstone's Case in the Winding-up of the Albion Life Assurance Society,
&c., &c.
" Any one interested in Mutual Life Assurance has a clear, reliable, and comprehensive statement of
the law upon the subject open to him which is a boon at any time and especially after the decision in
Winstone's case." — Money Market Review.
" Mr. Brett's able little treatise will be found to be of the greatest value to those who have insured
their lives or are about to insure them in any society whose articles of association involve the principle of
mutual assurance." — Statist.
" Mr. Justice Lindley, in his admirable book of the Law of Partnerships, has paid Mr. Brett the
compliment of referring to the present work and correcting his own by it. It supplies a very distinct
and long-felt want in an entirely satisfactory manner. It is a work which we cordially commend to the
attention of all who are interested in assurance societies, and it will certainly become indispensable to
the managers and other officials of such societies." — Birmingham Daily Gazette.
" Mr. Brett's accurate and concise statement of the law is of interest to very many persons who desire
to have trastwonhy information on the subject." — The Northern IVhig:
"Will prove an extremely useful work to those interested in insurance companies." — The Hornet.
"Mr. lirett undertakes a task not easy to fulfil. But his studious examination of legal principles
and the decided cases has peculiarly qualified him to explain them." — Public Opinion.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, Y/.C.
Wyman & Sons, Printers, Publishers, &c.
WYMAN'S TECHNICAL SERIES.
In the Press. ;
Printing Machines and Machine Printing.
Being a Guide for Masters and Workmen. Containing Valuable Hints in the Selection -
of Machines — Practical Guide to Making Ready — Preparing Cuts — Cutting Overlays —
Rollers — Useful Hints in Management of all kinds of Printing Machines — Details of the
Construction of Machines, &c., &c., &c.
Second edition, crown 8vo., cloth, price 5s. ; post-free, 5s. 4d.
The Grammar of Lithography.
A Complete and Practical Guide, for the Artist and Printer, in Commercial and Artistic
Lithography, Chromo-Lithography, Zincography, Engraving on Stone, Photo-Litho-
graphy, and Lithographic Machine Printing, with an Appendix containing original
Recipes for preparing Chalks, Inks, Transfer Papers, &c., &c. ByW. D. RICHMOND.
The proof-sheets of this work have been revised by some of the most eminent
men connected with the Art of Lithography, the result being a complete and reliable
work.
" Up to the present time there has been no handbook of the art of lithography worthy in any way of
the attention of the practical man, except the English translation of the original treatis&pf Senefefder
himself. The reproach has now been wiped away, and the trade, as well as amateur^^pwill ever be
indebted to the enterprise and judgment which have produced this book. It was compiled under circum-
stances unusually favourable to accuracy and completeness. The writer, Mr. W. D. Richmond, formerly
a country lithographer, with experience of every class of work, had studied the correlated sciences, such
as chemistry, with a view to understand and expound the principles upon which lithography depends.
His manuscript was set up in type, and proofs forwarded to a number of experts in different departments
— men of great technical ability, like Mr. Hanhart, and of artistic skill, like Mr. Louis Haghe. The
corrections and additions thus gained were considered and incorporated together by the editor of the
Printing Times and Litfiographer. If the book be tested in any particular the great advantage of this
process will be apparent. The Grammar is thorough in every detail ; and, in fact, may be recommended
as a model of a handbook of the kind. We ought to mention, also, that there are not a few original
methods brought before the trade now for the first time, besides many improvements on previously
known ones. In fact, all that can be imparted relative to the lithographic arts by verbal instruction is
here lucidly and succinctly presented." — Printers' Register.
" Lithographers and the Printing trade in general are greatly indebted to the care and practical
supervision which have been bestowed upon this work, which may be received as the only complete
handbook of this artistical branch of the Printing business which has yet appeared. The Orammar
is very elaborate and complete, and enters into every necessary detail of the art, together with many
modern improvements as yet but little known. Part I. is confined to drawing, transferring, and Printing ;
Part II. touches machines and machine printing. The book is tastefully got up and excellently printed,
and altogether is most creditable to the firm which has issued it to the trade." — Press Neios.
" Its author is a practical lithographer of many years' experience ; and he has certainly acquitted
himself of his task in a highly creditable and workmanlike manner." — Paper and Printing Trades'
Journal.
" The work of Mr. Richmond fills a regrettable blank, and the author has taken great care to make
his book as complete as possible. The various branches of lithography are studied with the most serious
attention, and judiciously treated. The author has by no means lost .sight of the practical side, and the
clearness of this remarkable publication is another title to the attention of all printers. W« address our
thanks and praise to the author and editor. We are happy to learn that the Ty^oiogie-Tucierha.a
obtained permission to print a translation of the Grammar of Lithography, which will be very useful to
those who are, unfortunately, not familiar with the English language. We hope that our confrere
M. Tucker will authorise us to make some extracts from this French translation for the benefit of our
readers." — Annates de rimprimerie.
Medium 4to. , cloth gilt, bevelled boards, price los. 6d. Also Second series, price 5s.
The Cabinet- Makers' Pattern Book.
First Series. Being Examples of Modem Furniture of the Character mostly in demand,
selected from the Portfolios of the leading Wholesale Makers. To which are added Ori-
ginal Designs by First-rate Artists, comprising various Designs for Hall Furniture, Library
Furniture, Dining-room Furniture, Drawing-room Furniture, and Bedroom Furniture.
" This will be found an invaluable work by the Master Cabinet-Maker and Upholsterer."
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, ^W.C.
Wyman & Sons, Printers, Publishers, &c.
WYMAN'S TECHNICAL BER\ES-coHiin,teJ.
Crown 8vo., cloth, price 4s. ; post-free, 4s. 4d.
The Practical Cabinet-Maker :
Being a Collection of Working Drawings of Furniture, with Explanatory Notes. By
A WORKING MAN.
" No Master or Workman engaged in the Cabinet Trade should be without this useful Manual."
Second Edition, crown 8vo. , cloth, price 2s. ; post-free, 2s. 2d.
Workshop Management.
A Manual for Masters and Men, being practical remarks upon the Economic Conduct
of Workshops, Trade Charities, &c. By FREDERIC SMITH.
" This book should be in the hands of every master and workman."
" The book is of none the less worth because the author happens to be modest. It is an accept-
able contribution to industrial literature, being well penned, well ordered, and excellently presented
by the publishers." — /ron.
Second Edition, crown 8vo., cloth, price is. ; post-free, is. id.
Enghsh China and China Marks :
Being a Guide to the Principal Marks found on English Pottery and Porcelain. With
Engravings of upwards of 150 Marks.
" The illustrations, which are very numerous, include marks from the fifteenth to the present
century, and thus furnish a key to many of the puzzles with which collectors delight to concern
themselves." — Ci'/y Press.
In the Press. Crown Bvc, cloth.
Stereotyping and Electrotyping :
Including Steel and Brass Facing, Etching, &c., with descriptions of the most successful
Dynamo-Electric Machines, and Hints on their Management, with Illustrations and
Diagrams. The Papier-Mach^ and Plaster Stereotyping Processes will both be treated
exhaustively — containing instructions in Moulding and Preparing the Type, Blackleading,
and the Making and Management of the Battery and Depositing Solutions ; together
with Descriptions of the Machinery and Apparatus employed in finishing the Plates.
In Preparation.
A Glossary of Technical Terms used in
Connection with Printing Machinery, giving upwards of 500 Definitions of Words and
Phrases employed in the Machine-room, together with a Description of the various
Mechanical Motions used in Printing Machinery and its Adjuncts. Illustrated by nume-
rous carefully-prepared Diagrams. The first Dictionary of Technical Terms used in the
Printing Machine-room which has ever been attempted.
In Preparation, crown Bvo., cloth, price 3s. 6d.
elling and Punctuation.
A Manual for Authors, Students, and Printers ; together with a List of Foreign Words
and Phrases in common use and their Explanations. By HENRY BE.ADNELL,
Printer, author of " A Guide to T)pography : Literary and Practical," " A Key to One
of the Main Difficulties of English Orthography, " &c.
Second Edition, price 6d. ; post-free, yd.
A Key to one of the Main Difficulties of
ENGLISH ORTHOGRAPHY : Being an Alphabetical Collection of nearly 3,000
Words resembling others in Sound, yet differing in Sense, Spelling, or Accentuation.
Compiled and arranged by HEXRY BEADNELL.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, W.C.
Sp
With Illustrations of Furniture Designs and Working Drawings,
Bvery Saturday, price 4d. Yearly Subscription, including postage, 20s. ; Half-yearly,"'ic
payable in advance.
The Furniture Gazette.
AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY JOURNAL, TREATING OF ALL BRANCH!
OF CABINET-WORK, UPHOLSTERY. AND INTERIOR DECORATIO:
BOTH AT HOME AND ABROAD.
Art Editor, CHRISTOPHER DRESSER, Ph.D.
INDISPENSABLE TO THE NUMEROUS TRADES CONCERNED.
Useful alike to the Connoisseur, the Antiquary, and the Householder.
The Publishers beg to call the attention of those who are not Subscribers to tl
Furniture Gazette to the strong claims of this Journal on the support of all who are int
rested in the Furniture, Upholstery, and Decoration Trades.
The Furniture Gazette has completed the Eleventh Volume of the New Series, ai
is the recognized organ of the important industries it represents — a fact shown not on
by its continually increasing circulation, but by the steady demand for space both in i
Literary and Advertising Departments.
Neither labour, care, nor expense is spared in the conduct of this Journal to secu
matter of special practical value and interest to its Subscribers. Information careful
selected as to technical and artistic matters, as well as to the commercial, scientific, ai
mechanical branches of the numerous Trades within the" province of the Furnitu
Gazette, may always be found in its pages. Amongst the subjects thus generally treat(
of and watchfully recorded in its columns, the following may be indicated : —
Decorative Works in progress or newly coi
The various Manufactures appertaining to Furni-
ture, Upholstery, and Decoration, in all their
numerous branches of Wood, Metal, Porce-
lain, Woven Fabrics, Paper, &c., with the
Materials, Tools, and Appliances peculiar to
each.
Working Drawings from Practical Authorities.
The state of Home and Foreign Markets,
with a special view to Imports and Ex-
ports, and the fluctuations of Supply and
pleted, with careful and accurate Descri
tions, illustrated, where necessarj', wi
Wood Engravings.
Changes in Fashion, Actual and Prospective.
Ecclesiastical Furniture and Decoration.
Art Exhibitions, Art Schools, and Reports
lectures en Art in connection with Furnitu
and Upholstery Manufactures.
Current Prices, Trade Reports, Tables of E
Demand. ports, and minor Trade Jottings.
Suggestions for Useful and Attractive Novelties Legal and Police Intelligence affecting the 1
in Materials and Manufactures. presented Trades. News, Notes, and Coi
Recent Patents and Improvements. ments. Useful Hints. " Short Ends Conie
Scientific Principles, Inventions, and Discoveries for Workmen. Practical Papers by Practi<
affecting Manufactures, Materials, or Ma- Workmen, &c. Correspondence. Answers
chinery. | Correspondents, &c.
FOURTH YEAR OF PUBLICATION.
Crown 4to., price 2S. 6d., stiff boards.
The Furniture Gazette Diary and Desk
book for 1880.
A complete and useful Office Diary and Desk-book, interleaved with blotting-pape
adapted to the requirements of the Cabinet, Upholstery, and Decorative Trades tliroug
out the Country. The Diary contains, in addition to the usual business information,
carefully-compiled and authentic Directory of the Trades allied to Furnishing, reprint<
from The Furniture Gazette.
"This is a well got-up work. Plenty of space and good paper are given in the diary, the almanai
and tabular matter are carefully compiled, and a useful classified list of the furniture, upholstery, ai
allied trades is given." — Building Neius.
"Ought to be on the desk of every one engaged m any department of the furniture trade. Besides :
excellent diarj', with the ordinary general information of such publications, we have a good bibliograpl
of furniture and decoration, and a pretty full and classified list of the furniture, upholstery, and alli<
trades." — Iron.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, W.C.
Wyman & Sons, Printers, Publistiers, &c.
Published on the isth of each Month. Price 6d. Annual Subscription (payable in
advance), 7s. 6d. post-free.
The Printing Times and Lithographer :
A Technical and Fine-Art Journal, devoted to Typography, Lithography, and the Repro-
ductive Arts.
The Printing Times and Lithographer is a medium of communication between all
who are associated with the .'^rt of Printing in its manifold forms. Having no separate
interests to serve, it is not the organ of any one class or trade, but deals with every topic
impartially and fearlessly. It has gained a high reputation for the great value and inte-
rest of its contents. Writers of experience and special knowledge are its contributors ;
while gentlemen well known in the Scientific and Art World co-operate with the con-
ductors to render the Journal a complete and authoritative exponent of the current pro-
gress of the Graphic Arts.
All new Works of interest to the Printing Profession receive an early arid impartial
criticism. Especial attention continues to be paid to the new modes of Automatic
Engfraving which are constantly being introduced in Great Britain and Abroad ; and
illustrations of their capabilities, with details of their practical working, are given.
Amongst the many subjects treated of are the Press, as it is affected by the restrictions
placed upon it from time to time by Government Departments, &c. ; the Law of Copy-
right as it affects Newspaper Proprietors, Authors, Publishers, Type-Founders, &c. ; the
advances made in the Art of Printing ; the production of New Publications ; an account
of all New Inventions ; a chronicle of Passing Events ; the management and progress of
the various Trade Charities ; the operations of Workmen's Unions and Combinations
among Manufacturers, &c. Its pages are open to the free discussion of all questions
upon which its readers may desire to interchange opinions by way of Correspondence.
The Printing Times and Lithographer Aenxes its information from, and circulates in
all parts of the World ; and no pains are spared to ensure the accuracy of its intelligence,
and to render it in every respect worthy the support of Lithographers, Letterpress Printers,
Artists, Antiquaries, and Literary Men generally.
Being a thoroughly-established Journal — one which is both carefully read and pre-
served— and possessing a large and increasing circulation at Home and Abroad, the
Printing Times and Lithographer presents an exceptionally good medium for the pubU-
cation of the Announcements and Advertisements of Type Founders, Printers' Engineers,
Inventors. Manufacturers, and of all who are associated with the Art of Printing in its
various branches.
SECOND YEAR OF PUBLICATION.
Crown 4to., price 2S. 6d., stiff boards.
The Printing Trades' Diary and Desk-
book for 1880.
The Printing Trades' Diary and Desk-book for 1880 is compiled with a view to meeting
the everyday requirements of Principals, Overseers, and Managers, connected with the
Letterpress Printing, Lithographic, Stationery, Bookbinding, and Auxiliary Trades. In
addition to the usual General, Commercial, and Legal Information, it will contain : —
A Diary, three days on a page, interleaved with Blotting-Paper ; the London Compositors'
Scales of Prices for News and Bookwork, Revised and Annotated ; Abstracts of the
Scottish and Provincial Scales of Prices ; an Epitome of the Law of Libel and Copyright,
as affecting Printers and Newspaper Proprietors ; Tables for the Printers' Warehouse,
relating to the Sizes and giving out of Paper, Cardboard, &c. ; Tables for the Store-
room, the Economy of Types, Materials, &c. ; Various Useful Forms, Recipes, Memo-
randa, &c. &c. Merely elementary information is avoided, as the aim of the compilers
is to present, in a convenient and accessible form, only useful matter, which, in the course
of his ordinary occupation, the master tradesman may at any time require. All the
Reference Tables have been carefuUy compiled, and the Recipes actually tested.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, ^W.C.
W^yman & Sons, Printers, Publishers, &c.
Issued in Monthly Parts during the Session. Price 2S. 6d. to Non-Membe/s.
Transactions of the Odontoloo^ical Society
.* o^ o«..^.. ""'versity of Caltfomla
Z ,nc n°"J"^"^ REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY
305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 . Box 951388
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388
Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed.
Brie
AN
Volume:
T
short
wisd(
most
libra
Brie
Cun
Wit
and
him
niuc
peric
abre
spee
ever
And
Pre;
phn
autl
dow
Pr«
tog<
repi
to a
lonj
CoU..
'^1 '"W^ftBY
(vlAY 0 e 2007
. MAV 1 2 200/
id.
vity in
iri'o is
side-
to tl
f ter
e be
■indl.
74, 75, Great Queen Street, London, 'W.C.
4
=6
1
;; P^
^
^
2C
2 cs
z
1
nn^^^H
b. S— :
1-
^
^IHI
m ^
z
S
' — 1 o^BB
CO ^
3
"«
§
pq H n
pc;
o
s
g w<
Pu,
CO
_4j
1
o -s ft
i^
(9
dgate
Pamplil
LL
M#
r~
^a<
c •- " f s e fc
i'^ * *| «?,
" ^^ *C "^ « ^ ^
•J J -33 O « -^
O goo -2^ *t
o. 2 Ph»
'S
lACHINES
Jrs & Mangles.
3RIENCE of USERS
a-....! uot.^ i.jr len years, aiiQ
bas done tbe washing for ow
j famijy of seven ever since,
; without tj»e wd Of a w»8h.r
Tom«n."
' "Th»M'»ch!Tip ^'A'owpI' 1
I «»vp» lab- - - ' •
I and my ;
1 with it.
1 mend it in iinvcu-, l hi~I;
I had bought one before."
: " I rogard yonr 'VowV K u
•I iM 1 i.'[iin me XI
lay in less than
" I like TOT
My father pnrct.
' Wasbing snd W
THOMAS BRAD
Eauirtry (!?ij
140, 141. 14S
HIGHHOLBORI
>U.FllliIUl\KKl'tNi).
1876
cpl!.
1 8Go
Waahiof
work with
cy and ce-
waih more
ana Manalu.g Mach'
from £6s.
1859 K.>.T»i ificii;
of Scotland;
1868 Rival As
fieiy id IreliJ
Medal.
See New Oai
fftje by
and
Kih
r rrr
ry ,i
S,.:.,