The History and Romance of Crime 18

The History and Romance of Crime 18

But Mazas had a history. It was associated with the chief criminality

of Paris for more than half a century, and a detailed account of it

should be preserved. It was the first tardy effort of the French to

follow in the path of prison reform, and was first opened on the

nineteenth of May, 1850, to receive the seven hundred inmates of

the then condemned La Force. Elsewhere prisons and their inmates

had occupied a large share of public attention in the first half of

the nineteenth century. The United States led the way with plans of

amelioration, and the prisons of Auburn and Sing-Sing were conspicuous

examples of the new order of things. In England, Millbank Penitentiary

had been erected regardless of cost, after a scheme originated by John

Howard and Jeremy Bentham, and had given place after thirty years

of experiment to Pentonville, built under the auspices and personal

supervision of some of the most distinguished Englishmen of the

day. France alone lagged behind. The question was discussed there,

but little more than talking was done. Two eminent publicists, MM.

Beaumont and De Tocqueville, had visited America in 1837, and published

a valuable monograph upon the penitentiaries of the United States.

In 1840, an energetic and philanthropic prefect of Paris, Gabriel

Delessert, converted, by his own authority, the boys’ prison of La

Petite Roquette into a place of cellular confinement. Still, it was

not till 1844 that the principle of isolation and separation for all

prisoners was accepted even theoretically, in France. Five years more

elapsed before Mazas, the first French prison built in accordance with

modern ideas was ready for the reception of prisoners.

 

It must be confessed that, although French prison administrators were

slow to put their hands to the work, when once it was undertaken they

did their best to make the new establishment a success. The best

models of the time were adopted and closely followed. The architect

of Mazas, if he did not exactly imitate Sir Joshua Jebb, the eminent

English engineer who gave the model for prison construction to all the

world, was clearly inspired by him. In its main outlines Mazas greatly

resembled Pentonville. The ground plan was much the same. There was

the same radiation of halls or divisions from a common centre. The

same tiers of cells rise story above story. The size of the cells (ten

feet by six), the method of ventilation and warming, by means of hot

water pipes with extraction flues and furnaces in the roof, are nearly

identical in the French and English prisons. Nor was it only in the

construction of Mazas that the French authorities sought to secure the

perfection of the new arrangements. With a tenderness for the welfare

of the occupants of the prison, which contrasted almost violently with

their previous apathy as to the treatment of criminals, they tested its

sanitary fitness by filling it for a time with paupers, before it was

opened for prisoners. No evil effects having appeared among the former

it was deemed safe for the latter and presently became the place of

detention for all male _prévenus_ or prisoners awaiting trial. Such it

long continued, and has only been replaced by Fresnes since 1898.

 

The newly constructed prison of Mazas played its part in the Napoleonic

_coup d’état_ of 1853. It became for the time being a political prison.

When the Legislative Assembly was invaded and the Chamber forcibly

dissolved, two hundred of its members met at the Mayoralty of the Tenth

Arrondissement. The place was surrounded by the troops. An order to

disperse was issued, with the alternative of a transfer under escort

to Mazas. Their leaders were already imprisoned, among the number

Generals Cavaignac, Lamoncière and Bedeau; Colonel Charras, MM. Thiers,

Broglie, Odillon, Barot and Remusat. It was feared that to commit a

larger number to gaol might create a disturbance, and the deputies now

arrested were confined in the barracks near the Quai d’Orsay. The only

interesting fact connected with this high-handed treatment of political

opponents by the founders of the Second Empire was that M. Thiers had

been the minister who, in 1849, had decreed the building of Mazas, and

was, as we have seen, one of the first to occupy it. History repeats

itself. Often before, as in the cases of Hugues d’Aubriot at the

Bastile and Cardinal La Balue at Loches, men had been cast into cells

of their own creation.

 

Mazas, in the half century of its life, was always a striking object

on the boulevard of the same name, which had been so called after a

distinguished soldier of the First Empire, the Colonel Mazas who was

killed at the Battle of Austerlitz. It was well known to all travellers

to the South of France from the busy Gaol de Lyon, and with its grim

façade of dark granite was in strong contrast to the bright boulevard

crowded with vehicles and animated passers-by. It was the privilege of

the present writer to pay it a lengthened visit in its palmy days, and

he may be permitted to draw upon his own experience in describing it.

 

The outer approaches were easily passed. A first gate was unlocked by

a warder in dark green uniform, with white metal buttons, bearing the

badge of an open eye. This gate led into an inner courtyard, surrounded

by storerooms and waiting rooms with the façade of the director’s

residence--bright with masses of green creeper growing luxuriantly

on one side. On the ground floor was a second portal where another

Cerberus kept guard. To the right of this second entrance was the

office of the _greffier_, or registrar of the prison, whose business it

was to examine the credentials of all who would penetrate into the body

of the prison. It was his business also to take a minute description of

all prisoners on their reception, a formality known as the _écrou_, or

enrolment upon the prison books. These books are voluminous, but are

very accurately and carefully kept. The _signalement_ of the prisoner

gave all information concerning him, a full account of his personal

appearance, of the clothes he was wearing, and of his position in life.

 

The _greffier_ satisfied, a few more steps led us to another door,

and this passed, we were in the _rond point_, or central hall of the

prison. In the middle of this was a circular office and observatory,

with sides entirely of glass, where a superior warder was posted

to exercise a general supervision over the long corridors of the

radiating wings. There were six of these wings arranged in three

tiers or landings, each containing two hundred cells, after making

due deductions for cells appropriated as bathrooms and _parloirs

d’avocats_, or places where prisoners have private interviews with

their attorneys. The whole prison at that time accommodated some

eleven hundred souls. Although displaying a strong family likeness to

prisons of its class, there was nothing particularly striking about

the interior of Mazas. The prison was not very trimly kept. There was

an absence of that spick and span cleanliness, that glittering prison

polish, that freshness of paint and whitewash, which are generally

deemed indispensable in every first-class prison. Untidy bales of

goods, containing work just completed by the prisoners lay here and

there awaiting removal; there was a good deal of litter about, and

a suspicion of dust and soot. The walls throughout were stained a

muddy, yellowish brown, which could not have been renewed for years.

The passages were floored with brick, as were also the cells. Odors

the reverse of fragrant in places assailed the nostrils. The system

of introducing fresh air and extracting foul, although based on sound

principles, did not seem to be thoroughly effective. Flushing was

carried out by hand from water-cans supplied to the prisoners, and was

altogether unsatisfactory. But with the cells and their furniture no

great fault could be found. The former were light and airy, the latter

supplied their occupants with those bare necessaries which are usually

conceded to the inmates of prisons. The prisoner’s bed was a hammock

with a mattress stuffed with wool or hair, and he had sheets and one

blanket; in winter two blankets. A small table was built into the wall,

about the centre of the cell. Over it was a gas jet, and close by was a

straw-bottomed chair, attached to the wall by a chain just long enough

to allow the prisoner to move his seat to and fro. Besides these he

had an earthenware basin, a tin dinner dish, a large tin bottle for

water, a drinking cup, a wooden spoon and spittoon. The cell walls

were adorned with official notices: the regulations of the prison, in

which all that the prisoner must and might not do was set forth with

considerable prolixity; an inventory of what the cell contained and a

list of prices, approved by the Prefect of the Police, of the articles

of consumption which the prisoner might buy at the prison canteen with

the money he earned or was sent him by friends. Prisoners unconvicted

were, naturally, not compelled to work in prisons, but they were

invited, even persuaded, to do so, and were at liberty to expend half

the money they might earn in purchasing small comforts or adding to

their daily fare. Those who preferred it were permitted, as elsewhere,

to supply themselves altogether with food; and in cases where the

_prévenu_ was of good family, if he or his friends were in funds, his

meals came straight from a good restaurant or his own home.

 

The inmate of Mazas could not well complain of the neglect of the

authorities, nor, judging by outward appearances, of the harshness of

their rule. In addition to many minor indulgences, he was permitted

to purchase a certain fixed quantity of wine, three double decilitres

of good ordinary Bordeaux,--“_vieux, pur, naturel, franc de goût_,”

it is set forth in the canteen notice,--and as much tobacco as he

could smoke when and where he pleased. He had an excellent library

of books at his disposal, and might see his friends from outside

when he chose. In some respects, indeed, he might deem the official

solicitude for his welfare a little exaggerated and misplaced. The

law was before all things anxious that he should do himself no harm.

The precautions against suicide were many and minute, and included

the deprivation of all dangerous weapons, with constant observation,

extending, if necessary, to the unceasing companionship of two or more

fellow-prisoners. With the recalcitrant _prévenu_ who refuses to plead

guilty these cell-comrades had other duties to perform. They acted also

as _moutons_, (the prison spies already spoken of), and wheedled the

unconscious prisoner into incautious confessions, of which full use was

made later. Thus the notorious murderer, Troppmann, confided his secret

to his prison attendants, and greatly assisted the prosecution thereby.

In his case the most extraordinary care was taken to prevent his laying

hands upon himself. During his long detention he was not allowed to

shave, lest he should injure himself with the razor. He appeared in

court with a long beard, which his advocate insisted should be removed.

The demand was only reluctantly conceded; and the operation was carried

out under the close surveillance of a number of officers after putting

him in a strait waistcoat and tying him into a chair.

 

Except, however, where the ends of justice seem to require a special

departure from the rule, isolation, that is, the complete separation

of prisoners one from the other, was strictly maintained at Mazas. All

the arrangements of the prison were based upon this idea--the private

boxes of the _parloir_, or visiting cell; the separate compartments

in the exercising yards, where each prisoner ranges like a beast in a

menagerie up and down a narrow cage, in shape like a wedge cut out of

a plum cake; all are meant to secure the great end. Even the method of

conducting divine service was such that every prisoner could attend

mass without seeing or being seen by his neighbors or leaving his own

cell. This was effected by establishing an altar on the top of the

office in the _rond point_, or central hall. The _aumonier_, or prison

chaplain, who officiated here, could be seen from every cell in the

prison. All the doors were bolted ajar by a very ingenious arrangement.

The long steel bar which usually secured the cell was shot for the time

being into a ring projecting from the casing of the door, and thus a

long, narrow aperture was left facing the altar, but only a few inches

wide. This system no doubt prevented the intercommunication possible

in an open chapel; yet, while this can be reduced to a minimum where

discipline is strong and supervision effective, the prisoner alone in

his cell was under no surveillance at all. He could behave just as it

suited him. A close observer, Maxime du Camp, examined thirty-three

cells, and observed what their inmates were doing while mass was being

said. Three only were reading their missals and following the priest;

one was on his knees; one was standing uncovered, looking towards the

altar; one had opened his prayer book, but for choice was looking at

the _Magasin Pittoresque_; one other, with his head buried deep in his arms, was shaken by a paroxysm of tears.