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Читать книгу: «About My Father's Business», страница 17
WITH THE PRISONER
What is the first greeting which a convict receives when he or she is discharged from prison?
Imagine, if you can, the shivering, shrinking, bewildered feeling of the man or woman who, after, undergoing a term of penal servitude, some of it passed in hours of solitary confinement, has all this great city suddenly opened again, with its wilderness of streets, its crowd of unfamiliar faces, its tremendous temptations, its few resources for the friendless and the suspected, its great broad thoroughfares, where on every side may be seen evidences of wealth and plenty; where the tavern and the gin-shop offer a temporary solace to the wretched; and where, also, in every neighbourhood, there are evil slums in which vice finds companionship, and the career of dishonesty and crime can be resumed without difficulty or delay.
Those who have stood outside the walls of Clerkenwell or Coldbath Fields prison, and have watched the opening of the gates whence prisoners emerge into a freedom which is almost paralysing in its first effects, will tell you how the appearance of these poor wretches is greeted in low muttered tones by silent slouching men and women who await their coming. How, after very few words of encouragement and welcome, they are taken off to some adjacent public-house, there to celebrate their liberation; and how, almost before a word is spoken, the male prisoner is provided with a ready-lighted pipe from the mouth of one of his former companions, in order that he may revive his sense of freedom by the long-unaccustomed indulgence in tobacco.
I should be very sorry to cavil at these marks of sympathy. They are eminently human. They do not always mean direct temptation – that is to say, they are not necessarily intended to induce the recipient to resume the evil course which has led to a long and severe punishment. That the result should be a gradual, if not an immediate, weakening of that remorse which is too frequently sorrow for having incurred the penalty rather than repentance of the sin that led to it, is obvious enough; but what else is to be expected? Not many men or women come out of gaol with a very robust morality. Without entering into the question how far our present system of prison discipline and management is calculated to influence the moral nature of culprits who are under punishments for various crimes, scarcely ever classified, and never regarded in relation to the particular circumstances under which they are committed or the character and disposition, the social status, or the mental and moral condition of the offender, it may be broadly and barely stated that our penal legislation is not effectual in promoting the reclamation of the criminal.
Even if some determination to begin life anew, to avoid associations that have led to infamy and disgrace to accept any labour anywhere in order to obtain an honest subsistence, has been working in the mind of a convict during the period of imprisonment, and under the advice and remonstrance of the chaplain and the governor, what is to sustain such half-formed resolutions? Supposing even that the discharged prisoner has been so amenable to the regulations of the gaol that he or she has had placed to the credit account that weekly "good-conduct money," which, when the term of punishment has ended, amounts to a sum sufficient to provide for immediate necessities, where is employment to be looked for? In what quarter is the owner of a few shillings – which may have to last a week or more – to seek a lodging and a meal, and that companionship which must be one of the keenest longings of the newly-released and yet solitary and half-dazed creature, who is ready to receive with grateful avidity any friendly greeting that promises relief from the long monotony of the gaol?
Surely, then, there can be few conditions which appeal more forcibly to Christian beneficence than that of the captive who is released after having undergone a sentence of penal servitude, part of which has been passed in solitary confinement. Whatever may have been the impressions made upon the mind during the period of punishment, and the influence exercised by instruction or exhortation, the very fact of regaining liberty, the excitement of freedom, and the uncertainty of the first steps a man or woman is to take outside the prison walls, will always involve a danger, before which a very large proportion of released convicts will succumb.
What, then, is being done in order to extend a helping hand to these, who are among the most destitute and unfortunate; who, even if they have relatives, may be ashamed to seek their aid, or are doubtful of the reception that awaits them, while the only companionship which they can claim at once, and without question, is that which will surround them with almost irresistible incentives to a lawless life?
In the very centre of this vast metropolis, at the point where its great highways converge, and yet in a modest quiet house standing a little back from the roar and turmoil of the main street, we shall find what we seek. Here, on the doorpost of No. 39, Charing Cross, is the name of "The Discharged Prisoners' Aid Society," and in two or three offices on the first floor – one of which is, in fact, a reception-room for the discharged prisoners themselves – the work for which there is such a constant and pressing need is steadily carried on, under the direction of a very distinguished committee, of whom the treasurer is the Hon. Arthur Kinnaird, and the first honorary secretary, Mr. W. Bayne Ranken, who is assisted by Mr. S. Whitbread and Mr. L. T. Cave. In looking at the names of the gentlemen who are concerned in this admirable effort, you will have noticed that some of them are also associated with other charitable organisations which we have visited together, and notably with those of that Soho district where we last joined in the musical diversions of the Newport Market Refuge. As we enter this front office at Charing Cross, we have a pleasant reminder of that occasion, for we are welcomed by the indefatigable performer on the cornet, who, when we last met him, was making "the hills resound" in the upper room of the old slaughter-house, and carrying all his juvenile military band with him in one resonant outburst of harmony that awoke the echoes as far as Seven Dials. To-day he is carrying out his ordinary secretarial and managerial duties, as officially representing the Society, about which he can give us some information worth hearing.
But there are other visitors for whom preparation has already been made in the next room – men dressed decently, and yet having a certain furtive, unaccustomed bearing, as though they were not at the moment quite used to their clothes or to public observation. Some of them are not without a truculent half-defiant expression lurking beneath their subdued demeanour; others have an open, keen outlook; and a few others, again, both in the shape of their head and the peculiar shifty expression of eye and mouth, and one might also say of hand, would at once be characterised by the experienced observer of London life as men who had "been in trouble" more than once. On the table of the front office the object which has at once attracted our attention is a perfectly new carpenter's basket containing a decent set of tools, and the man for whom it is intended will be here for it by-and-by to take it away, just as the shoemaker who has just gone out has carried with him "a kit," with which, in addition to a little stock of money, he is about to begin the world afresh, under the auspices of his friends, one of whom – either a member of the committee, or the secretary, or one of the visiting agents – will keep him in view, and give him an occasional encouraging call while he remains in the metropolitan district. If a situation should be found for him in the provinces, either the clergyman of the district, or some other friend of the Society, is informed of his previous history, and has a sincere interest in his well-doing. In no case have the London police anything whatever to do with watching or inspecting discharged prisoners under the care of the Society; and, on the other hand, it is a standing rule that where situations are found for these men and women, the employers are informed of their previous history, though any recommendation of the Society may be regarded as a strong inference that their protégé is trying to redeem lost character.
It must be remembered that a report of each of those who are under the care of the Society is made at the office once a month, either by the man or woman in person, or by one of the visiting agents or correspondents of the committee of management; and that, though the police are forbidden to interfere with them, except on strong suspicion that they are about to commit a crime, the most accurate and careful record of their mode of life and conduct is kept at the offices of the Society. Should they fail to observe the regulations which the Society demands, they are liable to police surveillance instead of friendly, encouraging, and confidential visitation; and it needs scarcely be said that this liability is often of itself sufficient to make them desire to retain the aid and protection which has been extended to them.
From a long and tolerably intimate observation of the lower strata of the London population, and of the results of various methods adopted to check the progress of crime, I am convinced that what is called police surveillance, as it is conducted in this country, is altogether mischievous in relation to any probable reformation of the offender. Even if it be denied (as it has been) that it is a practice of police-constables to give to persons employing a discharged prisoner, information conveyed in such a way as to lead to the loss of employment and despair of obtaining an honest living, it is quite certain that the constant dread of being branded as a returned felon, and the hopeless dogged temper which such a condition produces, must be enormous obstacles to true reclamation. The man who could really surmount them must, whatever may have been his casual crime, be possessed of a hardy and indomitable desire for virtue which should challenge our profound respect.
But, apart from what may be called legitimate surveillance of convicts by the police, it is unfortunately notorious that members of "the force," who occupy positions as detectives, or "active and intelligent officers," employ agents of their own to bring them information, and that these agents, being men of bad character – frequently thieves – are interested for their own safety's sake in providing "charges," or "putting up cases," by conveying information of suspected persons. This is according to the old evil traditions that have descended to constables from the time of Jonathan Wild, and probably earlier; but it is obvious that where such nefarious tools are employed for obtaining evidence which will suffice to sustain a charge and convict a prisoner, there is constant danger to those who, having been once sentenced for crime, are not only peculiarly liable to be drawn into fresh offences, but are, from their position, easily made the victims of cunningly-laid traps for their re-arrest, on a suspicion that is readily endorsed, because of their previous conviction and the knowledge of all their antecedents.
It is the removal of discharged prisoners from this probability, and from the kind of interposition that forbids their return to the paths of honesty, and so actually produces "a criminal class," that is, in my opinion, the best distinction of a Society like this.
Some of the volumes of interesting records which are preserved here would probably doubtless confirm this view. Let us refer to one only, where a nobleman residing in London had engaged a butler who went to him with a very excellent character, and in whom he had the greatest confidence. Happening to have occasion to employ a detective constable on some business, his lordship was dismayed at receiving from that astute officer the intelligence that his trusted servant had once been sentenced to five years' penal servitude for some dishonest act, but had been liberated on a ticket-of-leave. Puzzled how to proceed, the nobleman had the good sense to apply for advice to this Society, where it was discovered that the representation of the detective was true enough, and that the man had been recommended to a situation by the Society itself, an intimation of his antecedents being given to the employer. In that situation he had remained for several months, without the least fault being brought against him, and he then applied for and obtained the vacant and more lucrative appointment in the family of his lordship, who, though he acknowledged he should not have engaged him had he known of his previous fault and its punishment, kept his secret, and retained him in his service, where he remained at the time of the last report, respected by the household, and faithfully fulfilling his duties.
Probably this was one of those cases where, yielding to sudden temptation, a man incurs for a single crime punishment that awakens moral resolution; and it must be remembered that there are many convicts who, while in prison they are practically undistinguished from the habitual or the repeated criminal, or from the convict of brutalised, undeveloped, or feeble moral nature, are in danger of being utterly ruined because of a single and perhaps altogether unpremeditated offence, of which they may bitterly repent. The feeling of shame, of humiliation, of doubt as to any but a cold and deterrent reception by former friends, the dread of scorn, derision, or abhorrence, may lead such men or women to abandon as hopeless any expectation of resuming their former avocations, or even of once more attaining a respectable position. To such as these the Society offers such aid as may keep them from the despondency that destroys; and in every case, even in that of the wretch who has been convicted again and again, it holds out some hope of reformation. That there is some such hope may be learned from the fact, that even thieves – "habitual criminals" – do not, as a rule, bring their own children up to dishonesty, and are often careful to conceal from them the means by which they live. The ranks of crime are not so largely augmented from the children of dishonest parents (though, of course, evil example bears its dreadful results) as from the neglected children of our great towns.
But let us see what are the means adopted by the Society for helping discharged prisoners. Of course the procedure must begin with the prisoners themselves, in so far that they must express their willingness to accept the aid offered to them, and make known their decision to the governor of the prison where they are confined, and where the rules and provisions of the Society are displayed and explained.
This refers to the convict prisons, since only these are eligible, the prisoners from county gaols being assisted by other organisations; therefore, discharged convicts from Millbank, Pentonville, Portland, Portsmouth, Chatham, Parkhurst, Dartmoor, Woking, and Brixton, are able to seek help; and it is gratifying to know that, according to the prison returns, of 1,579 male prisoners discharged from these places in one year, 796 sought aid from this and local provincial societies having the same object, the number of applicants to the London Society being 524, or nearly two-thirds of the whole.
On any convict, male or female, accepting the offer of the Society, and making that decision known to the governor of the prison, the latter forwards to this office at Charing Cross a printed document, or recommendation, stating full particulars of the prisoner's age, date of conviction, number of previous convictions (if any), degree of education, religion, former trade or employment, ability to perform labour, and general character while in prison, together with the amount of good-conduct money which is to be allowed for work performed during the period of incarceration. This good-conduct money may amount to a maximum sum of £3, and the Society takes charge of it for the benefit of the prisoner, disbursing it only as it may be required, and supplementing it, when necessary, by a further grant of money, or even by advances or loans as may be deemed desirable in certain cases.
These reports from the prison governor reach the office about six weeks before the discharge of the convicts named in them, and following them come other papers, each of which contains a graphic personal description of the prisoner referred to, and a fairly-executed photograph, which is usually not without certain striking characteristics, though you will be surprised to find how often you fail to discover the lineaments which you have associated in fancy with lawlessness and crime. At the time of their discharge, the men and women are conducted hither by a plainly-clothed messenger from the prison, appointed for the purpose, and take their places in yonder back room, where they are immediately identified by means of the descriptions and photographs, and are then questioned as to their capabilities and the particular employment in which they desire to engage. It is manifestly impossible that the Society can provide them with employment in the particular trades which they may previously have followed, since there may be no openings in those industries, or they may be such as would be obviously unsuitable for persons who are still on probation.
Should the prisoner have friends or relatives able and willing to receive or assist him, they are communicated with, but should he be entirely dependent on personal exertion, the agent or secretary at once procures for him a decent outfit of clothes, and a lodging as far as possible from the scene of his former companions. A small sum of money is advanced for immediate subsistence, and he usually has employment provided for him, either in a situation, at manual labour, or by being set up in a small way at shoemaking, tailoring, or carpentering, either as journeyman, or, where possible, on his own account.
From six to twenty prisoners at a time are discharged from one or other of the convict establishments and brought to the Society's offices, and of the younger men a considerable proportion are assisted to go to sea, others – but, alas! too few – to emigrate, while a number obtain work as builders and contractors' labourers; and others again resume former occupations, as potmen, waiters, or employés in various situations, where the masters are always (if they take them on the recommendation of the Society) fully apprised of their position. A good many are set up again as costermongers, and in that case the agent of the Society quietly accompanies them to market, and advances the money for their first purchases; others go into the country and obtain work, and not a few of the better-educated or more skilled soon obtain engagements of various kinds, by personal application, and without reference to the Society, though they continue to report themselves, and to be kept in view by the agents, and, being separated from evil companionship, and feeling that they are not altogether friendless, retrieve their position and regain an honourable reputation.
Of 514 men and women who were received by the Society during the year, 180 obtained employment in London and are doing well; 156 were sent to places beyond the metropolitan district, and were placed under the supervision of the local police; 32 were sent to relatives and friends abroad; 57 obtained berths on board ship; 50 had failed to report and notify their change of address as required by Act of Parliament; 23 had been re-convicted; 6 were not satisfactorily reported on; one had died; and 9, who had been recently discharged at the end of the year, were waiting for employment at the time of the Report. To read the Report Book, recording the visits of the agents or secretary to men employed in various avocations, and to their friends or relatives, is very encouraging, for it shows that of a large proportion, say seventy per cent., there is a good hope of reclamation by their long continuance in industrious efforts to retain their situations and to work honestly in various callings; while the reports of country cases by clergymen in the provinces is equally satisfactory, especially as they frequently record the return of the former convict to his family and friends, amidst whom he earns an honourable subsistence.
The female convicts, who are also received at the office, are, if they cannot be sent to relatives and friends, mostly taken to a Refuge, which has been established by the Society at Streatham, where they find a home until situations can be obtained for them; and it is to the credit of some earnest ladies who are willing to engage these discharged prisoners as domestic servants that the result is often most favourable. A very large proportion of the women return to friends, however. Of 53 who left the Refuge at Streatham last year, 30 were received by friends, 18 obtained situations, 3 returned to Millbank Penitentiary, 1 emigrated, and 1 died, 25 remaining at the Refuge at the time of the report.
In the case of these discharged female prisoners, as well as for the sake of those men who would eagerly seize an opportunity of beginning life anew in a new country, it would be most desirable if greater facilities existed for promoting and assisting the emigration of such as gave satisfactory evidence of reformation of character. The Society finds its own funds, supported by contributions from the public, barely sufficient to maintain, and insufficient largely to extend its useful work. One of the committee, a resident in Canada, has rendered invaluable assistance to emigrants recommended to his notice by the Society. The governor of Dartmoor Prison in his Report, says: —
"I cannot too strongly again express my conviction that an emigration scheme connected with the Aid Societies would be an invaluable aid to the restoration of many casual criminals to a position of respectability and honesty. It would be especially appreciated by those (unfortunately a too numerous class) who had incurred the shorter sentences of penal servitude as punishments for breaches of trust of various kinds. These men are often cast off by their respectable friends, and, from the shortness of their sentences, are unable to earn the additional gratuity. With no lasting means of subsistence, and an overstocked market for their labour, it is not to be wondered at if such men speedily add a second conviction to their criminal career." Let us trust that practical steps will be taken to remove this difficulty.
