LAWBREAKER'S LIFE

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 3, Issue 714, 14 December 1933, Page 3

LAWBREAKER'S LIFE

IN NAPIER GAOL STRENUOUS BUT HEALTHY EXISTENCE OF THE INMATES. VISIT OF INSPECTIjOlN. "Six months hard labour," says the magistrate. The prisoner, rebeiliously or perhaps philosophically (for there are still philosophers in the world) is led from the court-room. What becomes of him for the term of punishment is not generaily known, for while many . have seen a lawbreaker sentenced, few have seen that sentence, or part of it, carried into effect. A visit fo the Napier gaol is a vastly interesting experience, says the Hawke's Bay Herald, providing, of course, that one makes it at the invitation of the gaoler 'and not of the magistrate. The gaol is a world of its own, where those who have digressed from the path of virtue are given ample opportunities of considering the nett value oi their digressions. A first elose-up view of the gaol suggests beauty, for the grimness of the outer stone wall is hidden by a mass of Virginian creeper, which at this time of the year looks at its best. But the visitor bids farewell to any conception of beauty directly he is admitted through the massive wooden doors to the interior. For inside the gaol there is little to commend itself to the brush of the artist or the pen of the poet. As the door is locked behind him he feels that he has been cut off from the rest of the world. Hs sees nothing around him but barred windows and grim, grey stonework. An inspection of the cells is iristructive, for having stood in one of those nine by seven feet cubicles, the visitor is prompted to think: "This shall be my one and noly visit here." Although they are spotlessly cle.a.n and well ventilated, the cells are by no means inviting. They are situated on either side of dark corridors, where no sound is hsnrd save the tramping feet of the gaoler oi', perhaps, the exclamations of a prisoner who bemoans the folly of his misspent ways. Writing or carving on the white walls of the cells is discouraged and the visitor looks in vain for the handiwork of men who have found time hanging- heavily on their hands. On the outside of each cell is a small identification card, giving the number and religion of the inmate and the dates of his sentence and its expiry. The interior is sparseiy furnished, containing a stratcher bed, a small shelf which serves as a table, a stool, four small triangular shelvesand a linen bag to hold washing and shaving material. The barred window is some eight or nine feet from the floor. The Daily Round. Except when a prisoner is at work quarrying the nearby hillside, he spends the whole of his time in his cell. His routine, day after day, weelc after week, is as follows: — He rises at 6.45 o'clock in the morning, when his cell door is unlocked and he washes and lines up for his breakfast. This consists always of porridge, accompanied by cold meat or stew, a pound and a half of bread to last him the whole day and a ration of golden syrup and dripping (the gaol's substitute for butter). He then returns to his cell where he partakes of his fare in solitude. He is unlocked again shortly before 8 i o'clock and, in the eompany of his companions in misfortune, marches off to spend the morning picking stone out of the quarry. At mid-day he returns to the gaol, i lines up and receives his hot dinner. This is wholesome fare and is also eaten in his locked cell. At five minutes to one o'clock he sets off again for the quarry, where he works till five.

The tea ration consists only of porridge, 'for the prisoner is expected to have saved enough bread, dripping and golden syrup to complement the evening meal. This he partakes in his cell, where he remains until the door is unlocked the next morning. For short sentence prisoners the elec-tric-light is left burning until eight o'clock in the evening, during which time the inmate of each cell may read. The gaol posesses its own library of suitable reading matter and the prisoners are allowed to take literature to their cells. Those prisoners whose sentences are for longer periods than six months are allowed the benefit of electric-light till nine o'clock. It will be seen from this description of a prisoner's daily round that life in the Napier gaol is a healthy one. The gaoler (Mr. T. Stoeker) asserts that illness in his domain is practically unkr.own, for his "guests" are given no opportunities of living excessively. A generous Government allows each man a ration of one ounee of tobacco per week. This must not be.^smoked in the cells, except during . the dinner hour. Behaviour of the Prisoners. The behavicur of the prisoners is; on the whole, good. For those who give trouble the Government administers a sure cure — politary conflnement for two' or three days, with bread arid water the only items on th'e menu. "We occasionally have a man kicking over the traees," the gaoler told a visitor yesterday, "but we soon fix him. They are healthy, hungry men, who prefer to behave themselves rather than be given bread and water and solitary confinement:" The prisoners spend Saturday af- , ternoon cutting their hair, bathing, shaving, changing their supply of clothing and in the indulgence of exercise. Sundays ar& devoted to church services, with an occasional wireless programme in th'e evening. Once a fortnight the Rev. E. T. Olds pays a visit, accompanied by half a dozen. musiciajns and enbprt(ainer|6^ The gaoler is justly proud of the vegetable garden which keeps the institution in vegetables all the year round. This covers an area of about an acre and is tended by the prisoners. The gaol also possesses its own halcer, and the bread he bakes is excellent. The gaoler says he will be

sorry when the baker's time has expired, for he is the best he has had in his charge for many a day. The Governments of England and the Colonies adopt the principle that a reformed lawbreaker is of more value to the community than the punished and rebellious offender. Hence, in their gaols they give the prisoners every opportunity of regaining their self-respeet. This fact appealed to the visitor who inspected the Napier gaol last week, but in spite of all, he realised the solitude and quietness which reigns there must in itself partake of the nature of punishment.