Oriental Prisons: Prisons and Crime in India, the Andaman Islands, Burmah, China, Japan, Egypt, TurkeyGriffiths, Arthur
Religion
Oriental Prisons: Prisons and Crime in India, the Andaman Islands, Burmah, China, Japan, Egypt, Turkey
Griffiths, Arthur
Crime -- Asia -- History; Crime -- Middle East -- History; Prisons -- Asia -- History; Prisons -- Middle East -- History
“The only articles of furniture the place contained were these:--First
and most prominent, was a gigantic row of stocks similar in its
construction to that formerly used in England, dilapidated specimens
of which may still be seen in some of the market places of our country
towns. It was capable of accommodating more than a dozen occupants.
Several smaller varieties of the same species lay around, each holding
by the leg a pair of hapless victims consigned to its custody. These
stocks were heavy logs of timber bored with holes to admit the feet
and fitted with wooden pins to hold them fast. In the centre of the
apartment was placed a tripod holding a large earthen cup filled with
earth oil to be used as a lamp during the night watches; and lastly, a
simple but suspicious looking piece of machinery, whose painful uses
it was my fate to test before many hours had elapsed. It was merely a
long bamboo suspended from the roof by a rope at each end and worked by
blocks or pulleys to raise or depress it at pleasure.
“The prison had never been washed, nor even swept, since it was built.
So I was told, and I have no doubt it was true, for, besides the ocular
proof from its present condition, it is certain no attempt was made to
cleanse it during my subsequent tenancy of eleven months. This gave a
kind of fixedness or permanency to the fetid odours, until the very
floors and walls were saturated with them. Putrid remains of castaway
animal and vegetable stuff which needed no broom to make it ‘move
on’--the stale fumes from thousands of tobacco pipes--the scattered
ejections of the pulp and liquid from their everlasting betel, and
other nameless abominations still more disgusting, which strewed the
floor--and if to this be added the exudation from the bodies of a crowd
of never-washed convicts, encouraged by the thermometer at 100 degrees,
in a den almost without ventilation--is it possible to say what it
smelled like? As might have been expected from such a state of things,
the place was teeming with creeping vermin to an extent that very soon
reconciled me to the plunder of the greater portion of my dress.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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