Elizabeth Fry (Pitman 1884)/Chapter 10
CHAPTER X.
VISITS TO CONTINENTAL PRISONS.
Contrary to the general practice of mankind in matters of pure benevolence, Mrs. Fry looked around for new worlds to conquer, in the shape of yet unfathomed prison miseries. Many, if not most people, would have rested upon the laurels already won, and have been contented with the measures of good already achieved. Not so with the philanthropist whose work we sketch. Like an ever-widening stream, her life rolled on, full of acts of mercy, growing wider and broader in its channel of operations and its schemes of mercy. In pursuance of these schemes she visited prisons at Nottingham, Lincoln, Wakefield, Leeds, Doncaster, Sheffield, York, Durham, Newcastle, Carlisle, Lancaster, Liverpool, and most other towns of any size in England. She extended these journeys, at different times, into Scotland and Ireland, examining into the condition of prisons and prisoners with the deepest interest. It was her usual custom to form ladies' prison-visiting societies, wherever practicable, and to communicate to the authorities subsequently her views and suggestions in letters, dealing with these matters in detail.
But her fame could not be confined within the limits of the British Isles. Communications reached her from St. Petersburg, from Hamburg, from Brussels, from Baden, from Paris, Berlin, and Potsdam; all tending to show that enquiry was abroad, that nations and governments as well as individuals were waking up to a sense of their responsibilities. Both rulers and legislators were beginning to see that preventing crime was wiser than punishing it, that the reformation of the criminal classes was the great end of punitive measures. This conviction reached, it was comparatively easy for the philanthropist to work.
Before proceeding to the Continent, however, we find notes of one or two very interesting visits to the Channel Isles. Her first visit was made in 1833, and, to her surprise, she found that the islands had most thoroughly ignored the prison teachings and improvements which had been gaining so much ground in the United Kingdom. The reason of this was not far to seek. Acts of Parliament passed in England had no power in the Channel Isles; as part of the old Duchy of Normandy, they were governed by their own laws and customs. The inhabitants, in their appearance, manners, language, and usages, resemble the French more than they do the English. Nothing deterred, however, Mrs. Fry made a tour of inspection, and then according to her custom sent the result of her enquiries, and the conclusions at which she had arrived, in the form of a letter to the authorities. That letter is far too long for reproduction in extenso, but a few of its leading recommendations were:—
1st. A full sufficiency of employment, proportioned to the age, sex, health, and ability of each prisoner.
2nd. A proper system of classification, including the separation of men from women, of tried from untried prisoners, and of debtors from criminals.
3rd. A fixed and suitable dietary for criminals, together with an absolute prohibition of intoxicating drinks.
4th. A suitable prison dress with distinctive badges.
5th. A complete code of regulations binding on all officials.
6th. The appointment of a visiting committee to inspect the prison regularly and frequently.
7th. Provision to be made for the instruction of criminals in the common branches of education, and for the performance of divine service at stated seasons by an appointed chaplain.
After adverting to the fact that the island was independent of British control, she alluded to "the progressive wisdom of the age" in respect to prison discipline and management, and urged the authorities to be abreast of the times in adopting palliative measures. The whole penal system of the islands required to be renewed, and it promised to be a work of time before this could be effected. We find that Mrs. Fry exerted herself for many years to this end; but it was not until after the lapse of years, and after two visits to the islands, that she succeeded.
The hospital at Jersey seemed to he a curious sort of institution designed to shelter destitute sick and poor, as well as to secure the persons of small offenders, and lunatics. Punishment with fetters was inflicted in this place upon all those who tried to escape, so that it was a sort of prison. Mrs. Fry's quick eye detected many abuses in its management, and her pen suggested remedies for them.
At Guernsey, the same irregularities and abuses appeared, and were attacked in her characteristic manner. In both these islands, as well as in Sark, she inaugurated works of charity and religion, thus sowing imperishable seed destined to bear untold fruit. Finally, after more visits from herself, and special inspectors appointed by Government, a new House of Correction was built in Jersey, while other improvements necessary to the working out of her prison system were, one by one, adopted.
In January 1838, she paid her first visit to France, being accompanied on this journey by her husband, by Josiah Forster, and by Lydia Irving, members of the Society of Friends. True to her instinct, she found her way speedily into the prisons of the French capital, examining, criticising, recommending, and teaching. She could not speak much French, but some kind friend always interpreted her observations. From her journal it seems that solemn prayer for Divine guidance and blessing occupied the forenoon of the first day in Paris; after that, visits of ceremony were paid to the English Ambassador, and of friendship to other persons. Among the prisons visited were the St. Lazare Prison for women, containing 952 inmates. La Force Prison for men, the Central Prison at Poissy, and that of the Conciergerie. The first-named, that of St. Lazare, was visited several times, and portions of Scripture read, as at Newgate. The listeners were very much affected, manifesting their feelings by frequent exclamations and tears. Lady Granville, Lady Georgina Fullerton, and some other ladies accompanied Mrs. Fry to this prison on one visit, when all agreed that much good would result from the appointment and work of a Ladies' Committee. Hospitals, schools, and convents also came in for a share of attention; and after discussing points of interest connected with prisons with the Prefect of Police, she concluded by obtaining audience of the King, Queen, and Duchess of Orleans.
On the journey homeward the party visited the prisons of Caen, Rouen, and Beaulieu, distributing copies of the Scriptures to the prisoners. She notices with much delight the united feeling in respect of benevolent objects which existed between Roman Catholics and herself. Her own words are "a hidden power of good at work amongst them; many very extraordinary Christian characters, bright, sober, zealous Roman Catholics and Protestants."
In the commencement of 1839, the low state of the funds of the different benevolent societies formed in connection with her prison labours, exercised her faith. None ever carried into practice more fully the old monkish maxim Labor est orare. Refuges had been formed, at Chelsea for girls, and at Clapham for women, while the Ladies' Society and the convict-ships demanded funds incessantly. A fancy sale was held in Crosby Hall, "conducted in a sober, quiet manner", which realised over a thousand pounds for these charities. After recording the fact with thankfulness, Mrs. Fry paid her second visit to the Continent, going as far as Switzerland on her errand of mercy.
At Paris she was received affectionately by those friends who had listened to her voice on her previous visit. Baron de Girando and other philanthropists gathered around her, oblivious of the distinctions of creeds and churches, and bent only on accomplishing a successful crusade against vice and misery.
Among the hospitals inspected by her were the hospital of St. Louis for the plague, leprosy, and other infectious disorders; the Hospice de la Maternité, and the Hospice des Enfans Trouvés. This latter was founded by St. Vincent de Paul for the bringing up of foundlings, but had fallen into a state of pitiable neglect. From the unnatural treatment which these poor waifs received, the mortality had reached a frightful pitch. It seemed, from Mrs. Fry's statements, that the little creatures were bound up for hours together, being only released from their "swaddlings" once in every twelve hours for any and every purpose. The sound in the wards could only be compared to the faint and pitiful bleating of lambs. A lady who frequently visited the institution said that she never remembered examining the array of clean white cots that lined the walls without finding at least one dead babe. "In front of the fire was a sloping stage, on which was a mattress and a row of these little creatures placed on it to warm and await their turn to be fed from the spoon by a nurse. After much persuasion, one that was crying piteously was released from its swaddling bands; it stretched its little limbs, and ceased its wailings." Supposing these children of misfortune survived the first few weeks of such a life they were sent into the country to be reared by different peasants; but there again a large percentage died from infantile diseases. Mrs. Fry succeeded in securing some ameliorations of the treatment of the babes; but sisters, doctors, superior, and all, seemed bound by the iron bands of custom and tradition.
The Archbishop of Paris was somewhat annoyed at her proceedings and expressed his displeasure; it seemed more, however, to be directed against her practice of distributing the Scriptures, than really against her prison work.
At Nismes, under the escort of five armed soldiers, because the known violence of the desperadoes whom she visited, she inspected the Maison Centrale, containing about 1,200 prisoners. She interceded for some of them that they might be released from their fetters, undertaking at the same time that the released prisoners should behave well. At a subsequent visit, after holding a religious service among these felons, the same men thanked her with tears of gratitude.
Much to her delight, she discovered a body of religionists who held principles similar to those of the Society of Friends. They were descendants of the Camisards, a sect of Protestants who took refuge in the mountains of the Cevennes during the persecution which followed the revocation of the Edict of Nantes, and were descended originally from the Albigenses. Their three most distinguished pastors were Claude Brousson, who took part in the sufferings at the general persecution of the Protestants; Jean Cavalier, the soldier-pastor who led his flock to battle, and who now sleeps in an English grave-yard; and Antoine Court, who formed this "Church in the desert," into a more compact body. The first of these pastors was hanged for "heresy" at Montpellier in 1698; but he, together with his successors, laboured so devoutly and so ardently, that the persecuted remnant rose from the dust and proved themselves valiant for the truth as they had received and believed it. It was not possible that the seed of a people which had learnt the sermons preached to them off by heart, and written the texts on stone tablets, in order to pass them from one mountain village to another, could ever die out. The descendants of those martyrs had come down through long generations, to flourish at last openly in Nismes. Mrs. Fry recognised in them the kindred souls of faithful believers.
After this, the party spent a fortnight at a little retired village called Congenies, where they welcomed many others of their own creed. A house with “vaulted rooms, whitewashed and floored with stone,” sheltered them during this quaint sojourn, while the villagers vied with each other in contributing to their comforts.
At Toulon they visited the “Bagnes,” or prison for the galley slaves. These poor wretches fared horribly, while the loss of life among them was terrible. They worked very hard, slept on boards, and were fed upon bread and dry beans. At night they were ranged in a long gallery, and in number from one hundred to two hundred, were all chained to the iron rod which ran the entire length of the gallery. By day they worked chained together in couples.
At Marseilles a new kind of prison was inspected by her; this was a conventual institution and refuge for female penitents, under the control of the nuns of the order of St. Charles, who to the three ordinary vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, added that of converting souls. Superintending ladies in the city, who bore the title of “directresses,” were not even permitted to see the women immured there; indeed, only one was permitted to enter the building in order to look after the necessary repairs, and even she was strictly restrained from seeing a penitent or sister. It seemed hopeless in the face of these facts to expect admission, but Mrs. Fry's name and errand prevailed. Accompanied by one of these nominal directresses, she was admitted and shown into a large, plainly-furnished parlour. After she had waited some little time, the Lady Superior presented herself at the grating, and prepared to hear the communications of her visitors. In the course of the conversation which passed, it appeared that there were over one hundred penitents in the convent, who mostly became servants after their reclamation. It seemed that they "were not taught to read or write, neither was the least morsel of pencil, paper, pen, ink, or any other possible material for writing permitted, from the fear of their communicating with people without." The Superior admitted that portions of the Bible were suitable to the inmates, such as the Parables and Psalms, but said that as a whole the Scriptures were not fit to be put into the hands of people in general. Mrs. Fry departed from this "home of mystery and darkness" very unsatisfied and sad. She next visited a boys' prison, conducted by the Abbé Fisceaux, which excited her admiration.
At the "Maison Pénitentiaire" at Geneva, the arrangements appeared to be as complete as possible, and most praiseworthy. The treatment varied in severity, according to the guilt of the criminals, who were divided into four classes. They were in all cases there for long terms of imprisonment, but were allowed either Catholic or Protestant versions of the Scriptures, according to their faith. After paying short visits to Lausanne, Berne, and Zurich, the party returned home.
As her life passed on and infirmities grew apace, it seemed that Mrs. Fry's zeal and charity grew also, for she planned and schemed to do good with never-flagging delight. Early in 1840, she departed again for the Continent, accompanied this time by her brother, Samuel Gurney, and his daughter, by William Allen and Lucy Bradshaw. During this journey and a subsequent one, she had much intercourse with royal and noble personages. At Brussels they had a pleasant audience of the King, who held an interesting conversation with them on the state of Belgian prisons. A large prison for boys at Antwerp specially drew forth their commendations; it seemed admirably arranged and conducted, while every provision was made for the instruction and improvement of the lads. At Hameln in Hanover, they found one of the opposite class, a men's prison, containing about four hundred inmates, but all heavily chained “to the ground, until they would confess their crimes, whether they had committed them or not.” One wonders if this treatment still prevails in the Hameln of Robert Browning's ballad. At Hanover they waited on the Queen by special command, and during a long interview many interesting and important subjects were brought forward.
At Berlin they were received by royalty in the most cordial way. Mrs. Fry's niece, in a letter, gives a vivid account of the assembly at the royal palace specially invited to meet the Quakeress and her party:—
The Princess William has been very desirous to give her sanction, as far as possible, to the Ladies’ Committee for visiting the prison, that my aunt has been forming; and, to show her full approbation, had invited the Committee to meet her at her palace. So imagine about twenty ladies assembling here, at our hotel, at half-past twelve o’clock to-day, beautifully dressed; and, further, fancy us all driving off and arriving at the palace. The Princess had also asked some of her friends, so we must have numbered about forty. Such a party of ladies, and only our friend Count Gröben to interpret. The Princess received us most kindly, and conducted us herself to the top of the room; we talked some time, whilst awaiting the arrival of other members of the Royal Family. The ladies walked about the suite of rooms for about half an hour, taking chocolate, and waiting for the Crown Princess, who soon arrived. The Princess Charles was also there, and the Crown Prince himself soon afterwards entered. I could not but long for a painter's eye to have carried away the scene. All of us seated in that beautiful room, our aunt in the middle of the sofa, the Crown Prince and Princess and the Princess Charles on her right; the Princess William, the Princess Marie, and the Princess Czartoryski on the left. Count Gröben sitting near her to interpret, the Countesses Böhlen and Dernath by her. I was sitting by the Countess Schlieffen, a delightful person, who is much interested in all our proceedings. A table was placed before our aunt, with pens, ink, and paper, like other Committees, with the various rules our aunt and I had drawn up, and the Countess Böhlen had translated into German, and which she read to the assembly. After that my aunt gave a concise account of the Societies in England, commencing every fresh sentence with “If the Prince and Princesses will permit.” When business was over, my aunt mentioned some texts, which she asked leave to read. A German Bible was handed to Count Gröben, the text in Isaiah having been pointed out that our good aunt had wished for, “Is not this the fast that I have chosen,” &c. The Count read it, after which our aunt said, “Will the Prince and Princesses allow a short time for prayer?” They all bowed assent and stood, while she knelt down and offered one of her touching, heartfelt prayers for them—that a blessing might rest on the whole place, from the King on his throne to the poor prisoner in the dungeon; and she prayed especially for the Royal Family; then for the ladies, that the works of their hands might be prospered in what they had undertaken to perform. Many of the ladies now withdrew, and we were soon left with the Royal Family. They all invited us to see them again, before we left Berlin, and took leave of us in the kindest manner.
One result of the reception accorded Mrs. Fry by royalty was the amelioration of the condition of the Lutherans. It came about in this way: in the course of her enquiries and intercourse among the people of the Prussian dominions, she discovered that adherents to the Lutheran Church were subject to much petty persecution on behalf of their faith. True they were not dealt with so cruelly as in former times, but frequently, at that very day, they were imprisoned, or suffered the loss of property because of their religious opinions. The matter lay heavily on Mrs. Fry’s benevolent heart, and, seizing the opportunity, she spoke to the Crown Prince at the meeting just described, on the behalf of the persecuted Christians. The Crown Prince listened most attentively, and advised her to lay the matter before the King in any way she deemed proper. A petition was therefore drawn up by William Allen, translated into German, and with much fear and trembling presented to His Majesty. The following day the King’s chaplain was sent bearing the “delightful intelligence” that the petition had been received; further, the King had said that “he thought the Spirit of God must have helped them to express themselves as they had done.”
About this time we find the following entry in her journal: “I have been poorly enough to have the end of life brought closely before me, and to stimulate me in faith to do quickly what my Lord may require me.” Accordingly, engagements and undertakings multiplied, and 1841 witnessed another brief visit to the continent of Europe. She seemed more and more to get the conviction that she must lose no time while about her Master’s business, and such her prison, asylum, and hospital labours most assuredly were. The shadows of life’s evening were gathering around her, and heart and flesh beginning to fail, but no efforts of charity or mercy might be found lacking.
On this visit her brother, Joseph John Gurney, and two nieces accompanied her. Soon after arriving at the Hague, Mrs. Fry and Mr. Gurney, being introduced to the King by Prince Albert, were commanded to attend at a royal audience. This the travellers did, and, after about an hour’s conversation, departed highly gratified. Another day they spent some time with the Princess of Orange, the Princess Frederick, and other members of the royal house: all these personages were anxious to hear about the work of prison reform, and to aid in it. After this they departed for Amsterdam, Bremen, and other places; but their journey resembled a triumphal progress more than anything else. The peasantry followed the carriage, shouting Mrs. Fry’s name, and begging for tracts. Sometimes, in order to get away, she was compelled to shake hands with them all, and speak a few words of kindly greeting.
They extended the journey into Denmark, and were treated with marked honour from the first. The Queen engaged apartments for the travellers at the Hotel Royal, and on some occasions took Mrs. Fry to see schools and other places, in her own carriage. On a subsequent day, when dining with the King and Queen, Mrs. Fry and Mr. Gurney laid before their Majesties the condition of persecuted Christians; the sad state of prisons in his dominions; they also referred to the slavery in the Danish colonies in the West Indies. Mr. Gurney having only recently returned from that part of the world, he had much to tell respecting the spiritual and social state of those colonies. Mrs. Fry records that at dinner she was placed between the King and Queen, who both conversed very pleasantly with her.
At Minden, they had varied experiences of travelling and travellers’ welcomes. “I could not but be struck,” says Mrs. Fry in her journal, “with the peculiar contrast of my circumstances: in the morning traversing the bad pavement of a street in Minden, with a poor old Friend in a sort of knitted cap close to her head; in the evening surrounded by the Prince and Princesses of a German Court.” The members of the Prussian royal family were anxious to see her and hear from her own lips an account of her labours in the cause of humanity. The representatives of the House of Brandenburgh welcomed Mrs. Fry beyond her most sanguine expectations; indeed, it would be nearer the truth to say that in her lowly estimate of herself, she almost dreaded to approach royal or noble personages, and that therefore she craved for no honour, but only tolerance and favour. She never sought an interview with any of these personages, but to benefit those who could not plead for themselves. Her letters home exhibit no pride, boastfulness, or triumph; all is pure thankfulness that one so unworthy as she deemed herself to be should accomplish so much.
Writing to her grandchildren she says: "We dined at the Princess William's with several of the royal family; the Queen came afterwards and appeared much pleased at my delight on hearing that the King had stopped religious persecutions in the country, and that several other things had been improved since our last visit. It is a very great comfort to believe that our efforts for the good of others have been blessed. Yesterday we paid a very interesting visit to the Queen, then to Prince Frederick of Holland and his Princess, sister to the King of Prussia; with her we had much serious conversation upon many important subjects, as we also had with the Queen. . . . . Although looked up to by all, they appear so humble, so moderate in everything. I think the Christian ladies on the Continent dress far more simply than those in England. The Countess appeared very liberal, but extravagant in nothing. To please us she had apple dumplings, which were quite a curiosity; they were really very nice. The company stood still before and after dinner, instead of saying grace. We returned from our interesting meeting at the Countess's, about eleven o'clock in the evening. The royal family were assembled and numbers of the nobility; after a while the King and Queen arrived; the poor Tyrolese flocked in numbers. I doubt such a meeting ever having been held anywhere before,—the curious mixture of all ranks and conditions. My poor heart almost failed me. Most earnestly did I pray for best help, and not unduly to fear man. The royal family sat together, or nearly so; the King and Queen, Princess William and Princess Frederick, Princess Mary, Prince William, Prince Charles, Prince Frederick of the Netherlands, young Prince William, beside several other princes and princesses not royal. Your uncle Joseph spoke for a little while, explaining our views on worship. Then I enlarged upon the changes that had taken place since I was last in Prussia; mentioned the late King's kindness to these poor Tryolese in their affliction and distress; afterwards addressed these poor people, and then those of high rank, and felt greatly helped to speak the truth to them in love. They finished with a hymn."
Her last brief visit to the Continent was paid in 1843, and spent wholly in Paris. Mrs. Fry was particularly interested in French prisons, as well as in the measures designed to ameliorate the condition of those who tenanted them. Reformation had become the order of the day there as in England; the Duchess of Orleans, the Grand Duchess of Mecklenburg, M. Guizot, the Duc de Broglie, M. de Tocqueville, M. Carnot, and other high and noble personages were much interested in the subject. A Bill to sanction the needful reforms was introduced to the Chamber of Deputies by the Minister of the Interior, and ably supported by him in a speech of great lucidity and power. Said he, when laying it before the Chamber:—“Our object is not entirely to sequestrate the prisoner nor to confine him to absolute solitude. Some of the provisions of the Bill will mitigate the principle of solitary confinement in a manner which was suggested by the Commission of 1840, and should not pass unnoticed by the Chamber. Convicts sentenced to more than twelve years’ hard labour, or to perpetual hard labour, after having gone through twelve years of their punishment, or when they shall have attained the age of seventy, will be no longer separated from others, except during the night.” The Bill further provided, beside this mitigation of the solitary confinement system, that the “Bagnes,” where galley slaves had hitherto laboured, should be replaced by houses of hard labour, and that smaller prisons should be erected for minor offences instead of sending criminals convicted of them to the great central prisons. The Bill was certainly destined to effect a total revolution in the management of such places as St. Lazare and similar prisons, in addition to giving solid promise of improvement in the punitive system of France. During this brief final visit to the French capital, Mrs. Fry entered on her sixty-third year, aged and infirm in body, but still animated by the master passion of serving the sad and sorrowful. Her brother, Joseph John Gurney, together with his wife, were with her in Paris, but they pursued their journey into Switzerland, while she returned home in June, feeling that life's shadows were lengthening apace, and that not much time remained to her in which to complete her work. The impressions she had made on the society of the gay city had been altogether good. Like the people who stared at the pilgrims passing through Vanity Fair, the Parisians wondered, and understood for the first time that here was a lady who did indeed pass through things temporal, “with eyes fixed on things eternal”; and whose supreme delight lay, not in ball-rooms, race-courses, or courts, but in finding out suffering humanity and striving to alleviate its woes. Doubtless many of the gay Parisians shrugged their shoulders and smiled good-humouredly at the “illusion,” “notion,” “fanaticism,” or whatever else they called it; they were simply living on too low a plane of life to understand, or to criticise Mrs. Fry. Except animated by somewhat of fellow-feeling, none can understand her career even now. It stands too far apart from, too highly lifted above, our ordinary pursuits and pleasures, to be compared with anything that less philanthropic-minded mortals may do. It called for a far larger amount of self-denial than ordinary people are capable of: it demanded too much singleness of purpose and sincerity of speech. Had Mrs. Fry not come from a Quaker stock she might have conformed more to the ways and manners of fashionable society, had she possessed less of sterling piety, she might have sought to serve her fellow-creatures in more easy paths. As a reformer, she was sometimes misunderstood, abused, and spoken evil of. It was always the case and always will be, that reformers receive injustice. Only, in some cases, as in this one, time reverses the injustice, and metes out due honour. As a consequence, Elizabeth Fry’s name is surrounded with an aureola of fame, and her self-abnegation affords a sublime spectacle to thoughtful minds of all creeds and classes; for, simply doing good is seen to be the highest glory.