Volume 1 — PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.[120]

PRISONS AND PRISON DISCIPLINE.[120]

Article from the Christian Examiner, January, 1846.

It is with a feeling of deference that we welcome Miss Dix's "Remarks on Prisons and Prison Discipline." Her peculiar labors for humanity, and her renunciation of the refined repose which has such attractions for her sex, to go about doing good, enduring the hardships of travel, the vicissitudes of the changing season, and, more trying still, the coldness of the world, awaken towards her a sense of gratitude, and invest her name with an interest which must attach to anything from her pen.

The chosen and almost exclusive sphere of woman is home, in the warmth of the family hearth. Rarely is she able to mingle with effect in the active labors which influence mankind. With incredulity we admire the feminine expounder of the Roman law, illustrating by her lectures the Universities of Padua and Bologna,—and the charities of St. Elizabeth of Hungary are legendary in the dim distance; though, in our own day, the classical productions of the widow of Wyttenbach, crowned Doctor of Philosophy by the University of Marburg, and most especially the beautiful labors of Mrs. Fry, recently closed by death, are examples of the sway exerted by the gentler sex beyond the charmed circle of domestic life. Among these Miss Dix will receive a place which her modesty would forbid her to claim. Her name will be enrolled among benefactors. It will be pronounced with gratitude, when heroes in the strifes of politics and of war are disregarded or forgotten.

Miss Dix's labors embrace penitentiaries, jails, alms-houses, poor-houses, and asylums for the insane, throughout the Northern and Middle States,—all of which she has visited, turning a face of gentleness towards crime, comforting the unfortunate, softening a hard lot, sweetening a bitter cup, while she obtained information of their condition calculated to awaken the attention of the public. This labor of love she has pursued earnestly, devotedly, sparing neither time nor strength, neglecting no person, abject or lowly, frequenting the cells of all, and by word and deed seeking to strengthen their hearts. The melody of her voice still sounds in our ears, as, standing in the long corridor of the Philadelphia Penitentiary, she read a Psalm of consolation; nor will that scene be effaced quickly from the memory of any then present. Her Memorials, addressed to the Legislatures of different States, have divulged a mass of facts, derived from personal and most minute observation, particularly with regard to the treatment of the insane, which must arouse the sensibilities of a humane people. In herself alone she is a whole Prison Discipline Society. To her various efforts may be applied, without exaggeration, those magical words in which Burke commemorated the kindred charity of Howard, when he says that he travelled, "not to survey the sumptuousness of palaces or the stateliness of temples, not to make accurate measurements of the remains of ancient grandeur nor to form a scale of the curiosity of modern art, not to collect medals or collate manuscripts, but to dive into the depths of dungeons, to plunge into the infection of hospitals, to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain, to take the gauge and dimensions of misery, depression, and contempt, to remember the forgotten, to attend to the neglected, to visit the forsaken, and to compare and collate the distresses of all men."

Her "Remarks" contain general results on different points connected with the discipline of prisons: as, the duration of sentences; pardons and the pardoning power; diet of prisoners; water; clothing; ventilation; heat; health; visitors' fees; dimensions of lodging-cells in the State penitentiaries; moral, religious, and general instruction in prisons; reformation of prisoners; penitentiary systems of the United States; and houses of refuge for juvenile offenders. It would be interesting and instructive to examine the conclusions on all these important topics having the sanction of her disinterested experience; but our limits restrict us, on the present occasion, to a single topic.

We are disposed to take advantage of the interest Miss Dix's publication may excite, and also of her name, which is an authority, to say a few words on a question much agitated, and already the subject of many books,—the comparative merits of what are called the Pennsylvania and Auburn Penitentiary Systems. This question is, perhaps, the most important of all that grow out of Prisons; for it affects, in a measure, all others. It involves both the construction of the prison, and its administration.

The subject of Prison Discipline, and particularly the question between the two systems, has of late years occupied the attention of jurists and philanthropists in no ordinary degree. The discussion has been conducted in all the languages of Europe, to such an extent that the titles alone of the works would occupy considerable space in a volume of Bibliography. We have before us, for instance, a list of no less than eleven in Italian. But we must go back to the last century, if we would trace the origin of the controversy.

To Howard, a man of true greatness, whose name will stand high on the roll of the world's benefactors, belongs the signal honor of first awakening the sympathies of the English people in this work of benevolence. By his travels and labors he became familiar with the actual character of prisons, and was enabled to spread before the public an accumulation of details which fill the reader with horror and disgust. The condition of prisons at that time in England was appalling. Of course there was no system; nor was there any civilization in the treatment of prisoners. Everything was bad. As there was no care, so there was no cleanliness, on which so much depends, and there was no classification or separation of any kind. All commingled, so that the uncleanness of one befouled all, and the wickedness of one contaminated all. While this continued, all hope of reform was vain. Therefore, with especial warmth, Howard pleaded for the separation of prisoners, especially at night, "wishing to have so many small rooms or cabins that each criminal may sleep alone,"[121] and called attention to the fact he had observed in Holland, that "in most of the prisons for criminals there are so many rooms that each prisoner is kept separate."[122]

The importance of the principle of separation was first recognized at Rome, as long ago as 1703, by Clement XI., in the foundation of the Hospital of St. Michael, or the House of Refuge, where a separate dormitory was provided for each prisoner. Over the portal of this asylum, in letters of gold, were inscribed the words of wisdom which Howard adopted as the motto of his labors, and which indicate the spirit that should preside over the administration of all prisons: Parum est improbos coercere pœna, nisi probos efficias disciplina,—It is of small consequence to coerce the wicked by punishment, unless you make them good by discipline. The first and most important step in this discipline is to remove prisoners from all evil influence,—which can be done only by separation from each other, and by filling their time with labor.

In furtherance of this principle, and that he might reduce it to practice, Howard, in conjunction with Sir William Blackstone, as early as 1779, drew an Act of Parliament, the preamble to the fifth section of which is an enunciation of the cardinal truth at the foundation of all effective prison discipline.

"Whereas," says the Act, "if many offenders, convicted of crimes for which transportation hath been usually inflicted, were ordered to solitary imprisonment, accompanied by well-regulated labor and religious instruction, it might be the means, under Providence, not only of deterring others from the commission of the like crimes, but also of reforming the individuals," etc. Noble words! Here, for the first time in English legislation, the reformation of the prisoner is proposed as a distinct object. This Act, though passed, was unfortunately never carried into execution, through the perverseness, it is said, of one of the persons associated with Howard as commissioner for erecting a suitable prison.

As early as 1790 a law was passed in Pennsylvania, which is of importance in the history of this subject, showing appreciation of the principle of seclusion with labor. In the preamble it is declared, that previous laws for the punishment of criminals had failed of success, "from the communication with each other not being sufficiently restrained within the places of confinement, and it is hoped that the addition of unremitted solitude to laborious employment, as far as it can be effected, will contribute as much to reform as to deter", and the Act further provides, that certain persons shall be "kept separate and apart from each other, as much as the convenience of the building will admit." The principle of separation, when first announced by Howard, and practically attempted in Pennsylvania, was imperfectly understood. It was easy to see the importance of separation; but how should it be applied? In Pennsylvania it was attempted at first with such rigor as to justify its designation as the Solitary System. But as the new penitentiary in Philadelphia was about to be occupied, a law was passed providing that after July 1st, 1829, convicts should, "instead of the penitentiary punishments heretofore prescribed, be sentenced to suffer punishment by separate or solitary confinement at labor"; and there is further provision for "visits to the prisoners." Here were the two elements,—first, of labor, and, secondly, of visits. In pursuance of this Act, that penitentiary was organized at Philadelphia which afforded the first example on an extended scale of the absolute separation of convicts from each other, combined with labor. And this penitentiary has given its name to the class of prisons founded on this principle.

It should be borne in mind that this system is distinguishable from one of solitary confinement with labor,—much more from one of mere solitary confinement without labor. An intemperate opponent, too rash or prejudiced to recognize all the truth, has often characterized the present Pennsylvania system as the Solitary System, and by this term not unfrequently aroused a feeling against it which must disappear before a candid inquiry. It is easy to condemn any system of absolute solitude without solace of labor or society. The examples of history rise in judgment against such. Who can forget the Bastile? We have the testimony of Lafayette, whose own further experience at Olmütz should not be neglected, as to its effect. "I repaired to the scene," he says, "on the second day of the demolition, and found that all the prisoners had been deranged by their solitary confinement, except one. He had been a prisoner twenty-five years, and was led forth during the height of the tumultuous riot of the people, whilst engaged in tearing down the building. He looked around with amazement, for he had seen nobody for that space of time, and before night he was so much affected that he became a confirmed maniac." But the Bastile is not the only prison whose stones, could they speak, would tell this fearful tale; nor is Lafayette the only reporter.

Names often have the importance of things; and it cannot be doubted that the ignorant or dishonest application of the term solitary to the Pennsylvania system is a strong reason for the opposition it has encountered.

The Separate System has but one essential condition,—the absolute separation of prisoners from intercourse of any kind with each other. On this may be engrafted labor, instruction, and even constant society with officers of the prison, or with virtuous persons. In fact, these have become, in greater or less degree, component parts of the system. In constant employment the prisoner finds peace, and in the society with which he is indulged innocent relaxation and healthy influence. This is the Pennsylvania system.

There is another and rival system, first established in the Maison de Force at Ghent, but borrowing its name from the Auburn Penitentiary of New York, where it was first introduced in 1816, by a remarkable disciplinarian, Elam Lynds. Here the prisoners are separated only at night, each sleeping in a small cell or dormitory by himself. During the day they labor together in shops, or in the open air, according to the nature of the work,—being prohibited from speaking to each other, under pain of punishment. From the latter feature this is often called the Silent System. As its chief peculiarity, in contradistinction to the Separate System, is the working of prisoners in assemblies, where all see and are seen, it may be more properly designated the Congregate System.

Such, in brief, are these two systems, which, it will be observed, both aim at the same object, the separation of prisoners so that they can have no intercourse with each other. In the one this end is attained by their physical separation from each other both night and day; in the other, by such separation at night, with untiring watch by day to prevent intercourse. Of course, separation by the Congregate system is less complete than by the other. Conversation by words may be restrained; though it is now admitted that no guardian can be sufficiently watchful to intercept on all occasions those winged messengers. The extensive unspoken, unwritten language of signs, the expression of the countenance, the movements of the body, may telegraph from convict to convict thoughts of stubbornness, hatred, or revenge.

If separation be desirable, should it not be complete? Should not the conducting wires be broken, so that no electrical spark may propagate its disturbing force? But the very pains taken in the Congregate system to insure silence by day and separation by night answer this question. Thus, by strange inconsistency, the advocates of the Congregate system seek to enforce separation. Wedded to an imperfect practice, they recognize the correct principle.

Before proceeding farther with this comparison it is proper to glance at the real objects of prison discipline, that we may be better enabled to determine which system is best calculated to answer these objects.

Three things are proposed by every enlightened system: first, to deter others from crime; secondly, to prevent the offender from preying again upon society; thirdly, discipline and care, so far as possible to promote reformation. There are grounds for belief that the first two purposes are best attained by the Separate system; but without considering these particularly, let us pass to the question, Which is best calculated to perform that truly heavenly function of reforming the offender?

Is not the answer prompt and decisive in favor of that system which most completely protects the prisoner from the pernicious influence of brethren in guilt? It is a venerable proverb, that a man is known by the company he keeps; and this is a homely expression of the truth, that the character of a man is naturally in harmony with those about him. If the society about him is virtuous, his own virtues will be confirmed and expanded; on the other hand, if it be wicked, then will the demon of his nature be aroused. Bad qualities, as well as good, are quickened and strengthened under the influence of society. Every association of prisoners must pervert, in greater or less degree, but can never reform, those of whom it is composed. The obdurate offender, perpetually brooding on evil, even though he utter no audible word, will impart to the congregation something of his own hardness of heart. Are we not told by the poet, that sheep and swine take contagion from one of their number, and even a grape is spoiled by another grape?

From the inherent nature of things, this contagion must be propagated by the Congregate system, while the Separate system does all that man can do to restrain it. By the latter, as successfully administered, the prisoner is, in the first place, withdrawn, so far as possible by human means, from all bad influences, while, in the second place, he is brought under the operation of good influences. The mind is naturally diverted from thick-coming schemes of crime, and turned to thoughts of virtue. What in it is bad, if not entirely subdued, is weakened by inactivity, while the good is prompted to constant exercise.

It cannot be questioned, then, on grounds of reason, independent of experience, that the Separate system is better calculated to promote that great object of Prison Discipline, the reformation of the offender. With this recommendation alone it would be entitled to the regard of all who feel that the return of a single sinner is blessed.

But a further object is secured. As the prisoners never see one another, they leave the penitentiary, at the expiration of their punishment, literally unknowing and unknown. In illustration of this fact, the delightful incident is mentioned, that the keeper of the Philadelphia Penitentiary once recognized three persons at the same place, engaged in honest labor, who had been in his custody as convicts, though neither knew the career of the other two. Discharged prisoners are thus enabled to slide back into the community, without the chilling fear of untimely recognition by those with whom they congregated in the penitentiary. They cannot escape the memory of the punishment they have endured; but the brand is not upon the forehead. They are encouraged to honest exertion by the hope of retrieving, on a distant spot and under a new name, the fair character they have lost; while, on the other hand, if evil-minded, they have no associations of the prison to renew, or to stimulate to conspiracy against society.

A system of Prison Discipline with these benign features must long ago have commended itself to general acceptance, if it had not been opposed with exceptional ardor on grounds which, though in reality little tenable, are calculated to exercise influence over the ignorance and prejudice of men.

The first objection is, that it is productive of insanity, from an unnatural deprivation of society. However just this may be when directed against the Solitary system, it is inapplicable to what is called the Separate system, which does not exclude the idea of society, and, as practically administered at Philadelphia and elsewhere, supplies both society and labor in ample measure. If the prisoner is not indulged with society enough, it is a fault in the administration of the system, and not in the system itself. In the publications of the Boston Prison Discipline Society, elaborate tables have been arranged showing a tendency to insanity in the Penitentiary at Philadelphia; but careful and candid inquiry will demonstrate that these are founded in misapprehension, and will exonerate that institution from such imputation. The highest authorities in medicine have distinctly declared, that the Separate system, if properly administered, with labor and conversation, does not affect the reason. The names of Esquirol and Louis give to this opinion the strongest sanction of science throughout the civilized world. The same conclusion was affirmed with precision and fervor by Lélut, in an elaborate memoir before the Institute of France, and also by the Scientific Congress assembled at Padua in 1843, and at Lucca in 1844.

The second objection charges the Separate system with being unfavorable to health, as compared with the Congregate system. In reply we merely say, that the great names in medicine to which we have already referred expressly deny that it has any influence in shortening life; while a statistical comparison of several penitentiaries conducted on the Congregate system with the Philadelphia Penitentiary attests the superiority of the latter in this respect.

The third and last objection is founded on the increased expense of the Separate system. The Congregate system is recommended by suggestions of economy and clamors of cupidity. It is said to be put into operation at less cost, and afterwards to support itself, and even to bring profit to the State. We are sorry to believe that this consideration has had an extensive influence. It is humiliating to suppose that Government would hesitate to adopt a system founded on enlightened humanity because another might be had for less money,—counting the unworthy gain or the petty economy as of higher consequence than the reformation of an offender. Such a course were unworthy of our civilization. The State has sacred duties to the unfortunate men it takes into its custody. It must see not only that they receive no harm, but that they enjoy all means of improvement consistent with their condition,—that, while their bodies are clothed and fed, their souls are not left naked and hungry. It assumes the place of parent, and owes a parent's care and kindness; or rather, when we consider that the State itself is child of the people, may we not say that it should emulate that famous Roman charity, so often illustrated by Art, which descended into the darkness of a dungeon, to afford an exuberant, health-giving bosom to the exhausted being from whom it drew its own life.

Notwithstanding the uncompromising hostility the Separate system has encountered, it wins constant favor. Many prisons are built on this plan, and experience comes to confirm the suggestions of humanity and science. The Penitentiary at Philadelphia, which first proved its superiority, was followed in 1833 by one at Pittsburg and by a County Prison at Alleghany, and in 1841 by another County Prison, on the same system, at Harrisburg. In 1834 New Jersey followed the example of her neighbor State, and established a penitentiary on this system at Trenton.

Commissions from foreign governments, after visiting the different prisons of the United States, have all reported emphatically in favor of the Separate system: as, that of Beaumont and De Tocqueville to the French Government, in 1831; of Mr. Crawford to the English, in 1834; of Dr. Julius to the Prussian, in 1836, after a most careful perambulation of all the prisons of the country; of Demetz and Blouet to the French, in 1837,—being the second Commission from the same Government; and of Neilson and Mondelet to the Canadian Government, in 1836.

In accordance with these recommendations, numerous prisons have been built or are now building in Europe. In England a model prison has been constructed at Pentonville, which is perhaps the best prison in the world. In the late Report of the Surveyor-General of Prisons, laid on the table of Parliament during its last session, it was expressly declared, from the experience gained in the Pentonville prison, "that the separation of one prisoner from another is indispensable as the basis of any sound system." As long ago as 1843, no less than seventeen prisons on this principle were built or building in different counties of England, and several in Scotland. In France the whole subject has undergone most thorough discussion by the press, and also in debate by the Chamber of Deputies. Among the works now before us is a volume of more than six hundred pages, filled by a report of this debate, with notes, which ended in the passage of a law during the last summer appropriating ninety millions of francs for the building of thirty prisons on the Separate system. Such is the testimony of France and England.

Similar testimony comes from other quarters: from Prussia, where five prisons on this system have been built; from Denmark, where ten are now building; from Sweden, where eight are building under the auspices of the monarch, who, when Prince Oscar, wrote ably in advocacy of the Separate system; from Norway, where one is now building in the neighborhood of Christiania; from Poland, where one has long been in existence, and three others are nearly completed; from Hungary, where a project has been submitted to the Diet for the erection of ten on the Separate system; from Holland, where one is about to be erected on the plan of Pentonville; from Belgium, which has yielded to the Separate system, and has even engrafted it upon the famous Maison de Force at Ghent, the model of our Auburn Prison; from the Duchy of Nassau; from the Grand Duchy of Baden; from Frankfort-on-the-Main; from Hamburg; from Geneva, in Switzerland: in all of which prisons on this system are built or are building. From poor, distracted Spain proceeds the same testimony.

To this array of authorities and examples may be added two names of commanding weight in all matters of Prison Discipline,—Edward Livingston and Miss Dix. The first, whose high fortune it was to refine jurisprudence by his philanthropy, as he had illumined it by his genius and strengthened it by his learning, in his Introductory Report to the Code of Prison Discipline, as long ago as 1827, urged with classical eloquence a system of "seclusion, accompanied by moral, religious, and scientific instruction, and useful manual labor." Miss Dix, after attentive survey of different systems throughout our country, fervently enforces, as well in the publication now before us as in her Memorials, the merits of the Separate system, and of its administration in Pennsylvania.

It might be said that the voices of civilized nations, by a rare harmony, concurred in sanctioning the Separate system, if the Boston Prison Discipline Society had not raised a persistent note of discord, which has gone on with a most unmusical crescendo. As the solitary champion of an imperfect system which the world is renouncing, it has contended with earnestness, which has often become prejudice, and with insensibility to accumulating facts, which was injustice. With frankness, as with sorrow, we allude to the sinister influence it has exercised over this question, particularly throughout the Northern States. But the truth which has been proclaimed abroad need not be delicately minced at home. We do not join with the recent English writer, who, among many harsher suggestions, speaks of the "misrepresentation," the "trickery," the "imposture"[124] of the Society or its agent,—nor with Moreau-Christophe, who says, "La Société des Prisons à Boston a juré haine à mort au système de Philadelphie";[125] for we know well the honesty and sincere interest in the welfare of prisoners which animate its Secretary, and we feel persuaded that he will gladly abandon the deadly war which he wages against the Separate system, when he sees it as it is now regarded by the science and humanity of the civilized world. But we feel that his exertions, which in some departments of Prison Discipline have been productive of incalculable good, for which his memory will be blessed, on this important question have done harm. In his Reports he has never failed to present all the evil of the Separate system, particularly as administered in Philadelphia, sometimes even drawing upon his imagination for facts, while he has carefully withheld the testimony in its favor. This beneficent system and its meritorious supporters are held up to obloquy, and the wide circle that confided implicitly in his Reports are consigned to darkness with regard to its true character and its general reception abroad.

One of the most strenuous advocates of the Separate system at the present moment, whose work of elaborate argument and detail now lies before us, is Suringar, called sometimes the Howard of Holland, who had signalized himself by previous opposition to it. He says, "I am now completely emancipated from my former error. This error I do not blush to confess openly. The same change has been wrought in the opinions of Julius in Prussia, of Crawford in England, of Bérenger and Demetz in France, and of all men of good faith, who are moved, in their researches, only by the suggestions of conscience, unswayed by prejudice or pride of opinion." Perhaps in these changes of opinion the Secretary of the Boston Prison Discipline Society may find an example which he will not be unwilling to follow; and it may be for us to welcome him as a cordial fellow-laborer in the conscientious support of what he has for a long period most conscientiously attacked.

From this rapid survey it will be seen that our convictions and sympathies are with the Separate system. Nothing in Prison Discipline seems clearer than the general duty of removing prisoners from the corrupting influence of association, even though silent. But we are not insensible to the encouragement and succor which prisoners might derive from companionship with those struggling like themselves. It was a wise remark of the English Professor, that "students are the best professors to each other"; and the experience of Mrs. Farnham, the matron of the female convicts at Sing-Sing, shows that this same principle is not without its effect even among classes of convicts. Perhaps the Separate system might be modified, so as to admit instruction and labor together, in a small class, selected after a probationary period of separation, as specially worthy of this indulgence and confidence. Such a modification was contemplated and recommended by Mr. Livingston, and would seem to find favor with Von Raumer in his recent work on America. This privilege can be imparted to those only who have shown themselves so exemplary that their society seems to be uncontaminating. But it remains to be seen whether there is any subtile alchemy by which their purity may be determined, so as to justify a departure from the general rule of separation.

Finally, we would commend this subject to the attention of all. In the language of Sir Michael Foster, a judge of eminence in the last century, "No rank or condition of life, no uprightness of heart, no prudence or circumspection of conduct, should teach any man to conclude that he may not one day be deeply interested in these researches." There are considerations of self-interest which may move those who do not incline to labor for others, unless with ultimate advantage to themselves. But all of true benevolence, and justly appreciating the duties of the State, will join in effort for the poor prisoner, deriving from his inferior condition new motives to action, that it may be true of the State, as of law, that the very least feels its care, as the greatest is not exempt from its power. In the progress of an enlightened Prison Discipline, it may be hoped that our penitentiaries will become in reality, if not in name, Houses of Reformation, and that convicts will be treated with scrupulous regard for their well-being, physical, moral, and intellectual, to the end, that, when they are allowed to mingle again with society, they may feel sympathy with virtue and detestation of vice, and, when wiser, may be better men.

In the promotion of this cause, the city of Boston at this moment occupies a position of signal advantage. It has determined to erect a new county jail, and the plans are still under consideration. It is easy to perceive that the plan it adopts and the system of discipline it recognizes will become an example. No narrow prejudice and no unworthy economy should prevent the example from being such as becomes a city of the wealth, refinement, and humanity of Boston. It is a common boast, that her schools and various institutions of beneficence are the best in the world. The prison about to be erected should share this boast. Let it be the best in the world. Let it be the model prison, not only to our own country, but to other countries. The rule of separation, considered of such importance among the ripe convicts of the penitentiary, is of greater necessity still in a prison which will receive before trial both innocent and guilty. From the first moment he is touched by the hand of the law, the prisoner should be cut off from all association, by word or sight, with fellow-prisoners. The State, as his temporary guardian, mindful of his weakness, owes him this protection and this means of reformation.

The absolute separation of prisoners, so that they can neither see, hear, nor touch each other, is the pole-star of Prison Discipline. It is the Alpha, or beginning, as the reformation of the offender is the Omega, or the end. It is this principle, when properly administered, which irradiates with heavenly light even the darkness of the dungeon, driving far away the intrusive legion of unclean thoughts, and introducing in their vacant place the purity of religion, the teachings of virtue, the solace of society, and the comfort of hope. In this spirit let us build our prisons. The jail will no longer be a charnel-house of living men; the cell will cease to be the tomb where is buried what is more precious than the body,—a human soul. From their iron gates let us erase that doom of despair,

"All hope abandon, ye who enter in,"

and inscribe words of gentleness, encouragement, love.