“Having, in my capacity of chaplain, observed the injurious effects arising from a habit which appears prevalent among the inferior officers, of regarding our religious rules as empty forms, got up for the sole purpose of prison discipline, and conceiving it right to let them understand the principles on which I propose to administer the prison, I drew up, and have since circulated, the following intimation:
“Having been appointed governor of this institution, I desire to express to the inferior officers my earnest and sincere hope that they will one and all bear in mind the objects of a penitentiary. The reformation of persons who have been engaged in criminal acts and habits is the most difficult work in the world. God alone, who rules the heart, can accomplish it; but God requires means to be used by man, and amongst the means used here, none are more important than the treatment of prisoners by the officers in charge of them. That treatment should always be regulated by religious principle. It should be mild, yet firm, just, impartial, and steady. In delivering orders to prisoners, care should be taken to avoid unnecessary offence and irritation, at the same time that those orders are marked by authority. Command of temper should be particularly cultivated. The rules require certain religious observances. It is of the greatest importance that the officers should always remember the reverence which belongs to sacred things, otherwise the prisoners will be apt to regard them not as religious services, but as matters of prison discipline. It should appear that officers themselves have a concern in religion and love and venerate it for its own sake. I do not by any means wish them to put on an appearance of religion which they do not feel—that would be hypocrisy,—but I wish them, as members of a religious institution, to cultivate the feeling and demeanour of true Christians—not only for the sake of the prisoners under their charge, but for their own.”
That the intention of this order was of the best no one who reads it can deny; but its provisions were fraught with mischievous consequences, as will soon appear. It struck at the root of all discipline. The prisoners were insubordinate and insolent, and needed peremptory measures to keep them in check; they were already only too much disposed to give themselves airs, and quite absurdly puffed up with an idea of their own importance. In all this they were now to be directly encouraged; for although the order in question was not made known to them in so many words, they were quick witted enough, as they always are, to detect the altered attitude of their masters. These masters were such, however, only in name; and one of them within a month complains rather bitterly that he is worse off than a prisoner. The latter, if charged with an offence, need only deny it and it fell to the ground, while a prisoner might say what he liked against an officer and it could not be refuted. The governor did not at first see how injudicious it was to weaken the authority of his subordinates, and continued to inculcate mildness of demeanour. In a serious case of disturbance, where several prisoners were most turbulent and needed summary repression, he took a very old warder to task for his unnecessary severity. One of these mutineers, whom they had been obliged to remove by force, cried, “You have almost killed me,” though nothing of the kind had occurred. This officer was injudicious enough to reply, “You deserve killing.” Upon this Mr. Nihil, as I find it recorded, states, “I thought it necessary to reprove the warder for such language. If the prisoners are to be properly managed, it is by authority administered with firmness, and guided, not by passion, but by reason and principle.”