Millbank Penitentiary: An Experiment in Reformation
John Stuart Mill · en
being seen, without going out to public worship—as a general practice
was practically unknown in the establishment.
“These children took exercise regularly twice a day, for half an
hour at a time, in company with other prisoners of their ward; they
had school also together twice a week; went to chapel on Sunday; and
were regularly visited by benevolent Christian ladies (Mrs. Fry and
her associates), who spent long hours in their cells. Surely their
condition was not one of great hardship!
“The young men, Welsh and Ray, were notorious rogues, who had also been
sent to the Penitentiary to effect, if possible, some reformation in
their ill-conducted and irregular lives. Their behaviour had been very
rebellious and disorderly, but though they had been frequently punished
they had left the Penitentiary at the expiration of their terms
of imprisonment in perfect health and full possession of all their
faculties.”
The Opposition laughed at the explanation. Not solitary
confinement—what was it then? The children went out to exercise. Yes;
but they were not allowed to communicate or talk to one another. They
went to church, and to school, but only for a few hours together in
the week, and for the rest of the time they were shut up in their
cells alone, utterly alone. Was not this solitary confinement? Were
these accusations all unfounded then? Had they been disproved? Let the
Government wait till a committee of the House had been appointed to
inquire and had reported upon the whole case.
A committee met, took evidence, and at the end of a month sent in their
report. It was quite conclusive. The whole of the charges necessarily
fell at once to the ground. “On the whole,” they stated, in summing
up, “the committee think it due to the officers of the Penitentiary to
state, that all the convicts have been treated with all the leniency,
and—in the case of the female children particularly—with all the
attention to their moral improvement that was consistent with the rules
laid down for the government of the Penitentiary.” The children had
come in dirty, ignorant, and in ill health; they were now cleanly, had
learned to read, could make shirts, and were all quite well and strong.
Nothing was wrong with their voices: one could shout as loud as any
girl of her age, but she was shy before strangers; the second led the
singing of the hymns in her ward, though her voice was only of ordinary
power, and had been even husky from the time of her reception; the
third usually spoke from choice in a low tone, but she had been heard
to shout often enough to other prisoners. It was quite evident, then,
that in these three cases, not only had the cruelty been distinctly
disproved, but it was equally clear that their imprisonment in the
Penitentiary had been a positive benefit to the children in question.