THE GLOBE. FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1882. THE “TELEGRAPH” ON PRISON DISCIPLINE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2646, 29 September 1882, Page 2

THE GLOBE. FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1882. THE “TELEGRAPH ” ON PRISON DISCIPLINE.

Our contemporary the “ Telegraph ” yesterday commented oa a sentence passed by Messrs. OUivier and Richardson on a prisoner in Lyttelton gaol who had savagely assaulted a fellow prisoner, the notorious Butler. The assault, which was meant as a reprisal for an outrage committed on the person of the assailant by his fellow-prisoner, was of a singularly determined and malignant character, for the victim was foiled to the ground with one blow of a stone, and the assailant was only prevented from going further bybeing secured and put under restraint. The sentence passed was that the offending prisoner should be kept in solitary confinement for one month, with loss of tobacco and of six months’ good marks. With those facta for a text, our contemporary has a leading article with the following sensational heading, “ Seven hundred and twenty hours alone in the dark.” The article, after a few preliminary remarks, breaks out thus —“ One month’s solitary confinement! 720 hours of silence and night! during which time the unfortunate man is thrown upon his own thoughts f< r employment and amusement: during which time he m.yat count the whole of

the weary moments that are not devoted to sleep.” Then, after admitting tha violence and vindictive nature of tha assault, and taking it for granted, on no particular evidence that we can see, that the assailant had been goaded to desperation h T Butler, the article proceeds, “ The punishment is out of character with the tolerant and hnmane spirit of the age--720 hours of darkness and silence! Why it is enough to drive a man mad.” And again, *‘A man can do nothing hut think and sleep, and there can be hut little of the latter. Think, think, think, hour after hour, counting the slow seconde as they crawl by; and all tha while encircled by a dread curtain of silence and night, and nothing but one’s own thoughts with which to break the silence,, or penetrate the gloomy horror! We believe it is now the most unusual thing for experienced magistrates to give more than a few honrs of this awful punishment. It is of tha nature of torture.” And then the “ Telegraph ” enters upon a very peculiar mathematical calculation. It imagines it possible “to translate the terms of one kind of punishment into their equivalent ia another kind,” and it endeavors to find out how many lashes are equivalent to a. month’s solitary confinement. It presumes that six lashes are equal to the first twenty-four hours, twelve equal the second twenty hours, and so on. By this process it comes to tha conclusion that a month’s solitary confinement is equal to some thousands of lashes ; or, by reckoning a dozen lashes for each twenty four hours, that a month’s solitary confinement ia equal to 360 lashes. Now, our contemporary may know a good deal about international exhibitions and a certain amount about church polity, but it evidently ia remarkably ignorant with regard to prison discipline. The next time it writes on the subject, we would strongly advise it to be sure of its facts before committing itself. “ Seven hundred and twenty hours alone in the dark ” may be a very pretty and taking beading, and, facts put out of the question, may be a very easy one to write up to; but it will be well to remember that many of Jules 'Verne’s works can now be bought for sixpence, and that in one of such there ia much more than six times more sensational matter than in a penny copy of the “Telegraph.” Anybody who has any knowledge of the discipline of gaols, or who cares to gain any, knows, or might easily ascertain, that the prisoner who was sentenced the other day is in no dangar whatever of passing 72d hours in the dark. Let us taka upon ourselves the pleasant task of reassuring the “ Telegraph.” There is plenty of

light in the solitary cell. If the prisoner becomes abusive, and disturbs the other prisoners, part, and part only, of that light is cut off. But, if he becomes excessively abusive, the outer door is closed until he is quiet; but, even with that door closed, there are gratings through which the light penetrates. But the outer door is closed only until he is quiets so that his being in even partial darkness depends entirely on the prisoner Moreover, a month’s solitary confinement

does not mean a month’s continuous solitary confinement. He is so confined for a week, and then put to light work without solitary confinement, and with better fare, for the next week. He then returns to his cell for another week, and so on till the term of his imprisonment is completed. The strain therefore on the man is most decidedly lessened. The “ Telegraph ” article tries to make one believe that the prisoner is put into a “ black hole ” for 720 continuous hours. Such an assertion is absolute bunkum. A prisoner such as the assailant in tho case in question has to be treated exceptionally, for ordinary prison rules do not affect him. If he had been terrorized by Bntler he might easily have complained and obtained redress. But his action in knocking Butler down with a stone does not look as if ho were the lamb onr contemporary would make

him oat to be. And as for the punishment being “oat of character with the tolerant and humane spirit of the age,” it shows very clearly that the “Telegraph” writer has never studied the prison question in the slightest. There are prisons in England where the solitary system is in vogue, and where men «r*~ so incarcerated for years. These pri-' soners are not put into “ black holes” any more than was the man about whose case we are writing ; but for all that they are sentenced to years of solitary confinement. There are plenty of philanthropists at home who have made prison discipline a special subject, and if the system was thought specially barbarous there would be noise enough made on the subject. We do not say we advocate the system, but to talk of it as a special barbarism is ridiculous. The proper treatment of our criminals • is a question of the greatest difficulty. A man who is inured to crime is suffering from a mental disease which requires . peculiar treatment, and it is yet an open question which treatment is the most efficacious. Hence the different methods adopted in the various prisons in Great Britain and Ireland. But the general question is little likely to bo assisted by such very raw and such totally reckless remark a as appeared last night in our contemporary.