The prisoners for debt (to the State) enjoy the same privileges as the
politicians. The baser, or more unfortunate, inmates, serving sentences
of from one day to one year, are obliged to work in one of the six
ateliers and to submit to the usual prison regulations, rising at six
o'clock and going to bed at half-past seven. Among the articles produced
in the workroom are toy balloons, Venetian lanterns, and, in general,
all those materials for the illuminations with which Paris amuses itself
on nights of festival. The fine gentlemen in the first and second
quarters of the prison, instead of partaking of the meagre prison fare,
are nourished at the expense of the State by some restaurant designated
by themselves. This prison was erected in 1635 by the Order of the Soeurs
Repenties; it was a prison for debt till 1793; until the suppression of
the Garde Nationale, it was known familiarly as _Prison des Haricots_
[beans], because those refractory citizens who objected to serving in
this corps were here confined on a strictly vegetable diet. In the
chapel which serves as the refectory is preserved a relic of
Sainte-Pélagie. Madame de Beauharnais, afterward the Empress Josephine,
was here imprisoned in a chamber, which is still shown, on the second
floor.
In the Grande-Roquette (Dépôt des Condamnés), in the Rue de la Roquette,
are confined those condemned to death, or to deportation to some penal
colony. As late as the first months of 1899, the executions were public,
the guillotine being erected in front of the prison, in the space
between it and the Rue de la Roquette; the locality was marked by five
large oblong stone slabs in the pavement of the sidewalk. Hereafter the
executions will take place in the Place Saint-Jacques; and the prisoners
condemned to death will be confined in the Prison de la Santé. The three
cells devoted to these unfortunates in the Grande-Roquette were larger
than the others, and the condemned man enjoyed certain privileges. He
was not compelled to work, he was given meat every day, he could smoke,
read and write, and play cards with the two guards who kept him company
day and night until the moment when Monsieur de Paris took possession of
him. In the chapel, an upper lodge or box was provided for him, where,
behind a grating, he could hear the mass without being seen by those
below. The library which was at the disposal of these unfortunates, and
which was their principal distraction, included some four thousand
volumes. The books most read were novels and romances, and of these the
works of Dumas père were the favorites. After these came those of
Alphonse Karr, Mayne Reid, Eugène Suë, books of travels, and the
_Magasin pittoresque_.
For those condemned to lighter penalties, the regulations were more
severe;--there was not space in the workroom for all, or there was not
work for all, and the greater part of the unhappy prisoners wandered
round and round all day in the dreary court-yard, in all the weariness
of utter idleness. They were even obliged to eat in this court-yard,
having no refectory. This prison, constructed in 1836, was taken
possession of by the Commune in 1871, and in May was the scene of a
series of massacres. The cell occupied by the most illustrious of these
victims, the Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur Darboy, has not since been
occupied by any inmate, and has been preserved in the condition in which
he left it at half-past seven on the morning of the 24th of May.
Directly opposite the Grande-Roquette, facing on the same street, is the
_Prison des Jeunes Détenus_, the Petite-Roquette, which was devoted to
three classes of youthful offenders, those placed here _en correction
paternelle_; youths of not less than sixteen, prévenus, and those
condemned to various terms of imprisonment and from sixteen to
twenty-one years of age. The first class, imprisoned in cells in a
separate quarter, were known only by their numbers, their names and
stations in life were carefully concealed, and the guards themselves
were kept in ignorance concerning them. All the inmates of this prison
were isolated in their cells; in them they worked alone, and were
visited by the instructor; they took solitary exercise in the préau
cellulaire; and in the chapel-school, which occupies the central
rotunda, each was imprisoned in a high stall from which he could see and
hear but was invisible to all his fellow-prisoners. As he shut himself
in his stall, he opened the door of that of his neighbor, who followed
him at a distance of twenty paces. In this school he passed two hours a
day, and in his _promenoir cellulaire_, one hour. A modification of this
system was recently introduced;--the good-behavior inmates, those who
were soon to be liberated, were brought together in a common workroom
where they were employed in the manufacture of artificial violets. A new
annex was recently added to this establishment, the _Infirmerie Centrale
des Prisons de la Seine_, formerly installed in the Prison de la Santé.
This hospital included three wards which could receive each thirty
patients, an operating-room, and extensive bathing-rooms. This portion
of the institution was entirely separated from the rest of the prison.
The Petite-Roquette, no longer in its gloomy surroundings, now stands on
the banks of the Seine, nearly opposite the Terrace of Saint-Germain-en-Laye,
from which it is visible, at the end of the road which leads from
Montesson to the river. This happy removal marks an equally fortunate
transformation in the character of the institution, for the stupefying
and demoralizing system of solitary seclusion has been substituted the
wholesomer labor in the open air of an agricultural and horticultural
colony.
[Illustration: THE END OF AN AFFAIRE. After a drawing by Émile Bayard.]
This important reform has been extended to the greater prisons of the
capital: those of Mazas, Sainte-Pélagie, and the Grande-Roquette are all
to be removed to the new penal institutions at Fresnes-lès-Rungis, in
the department of Seine-et-Oise, inaugurated on the 18th of July, 1898.
These were solemnly transferred by the Préfet of the Seine and the
President of the Conseil Général to the _administration pénitentiaire_,
and in the speeches which formed part of this ceremony the principles
actuating this departure from ancient principles were duly set forth. M.
Thuillier, Président du Conseil Général, after citing the transformation
of the Petite-Roquette as the initiatory step in this great movement,
declared that "from our profound compassion for the unfortunates who
come under the hand of Justice sprang the desire to place the prisoner
henceforth in surroundings in which might be born and strengthened the
sentiments of self-respect, of bodily cleanliness, of propriety, which
will frequently inculcate in him the noblest ideas of repentance and of
moral regeneration. Hence those salubrious and almost comfortable
arrangements which you have just seen.... Hence our desire to render
the stay in the prison as little depressing as possible for the body
and the conscience." "Without the _récidive_ [the offender for the
second time]," said M. Selves, Préfet de la Seine, "criminality in
France would have diminished within the last twenty years. It is, then,
the récidive, above all, who is responsible for the augmentation of
criminality, and, as it is the prison which makes the récidive, it
follows that the amelioration of the penitentiary system should have a
greater influence for good than all other methods."
It was accordingly resolved to endeavor to better the condition of the
prisoners while at the same time preventing as much as possible their
corruption by indiscriminate herding together. As far back as 1849, M.
Dufaure advocated the keeping apart of prévenus and of those condemned
for minor offences. But it was not till 1875 that a law was passed
decreeing the separation of those serving sentences of imprisonment of
less than a year. The department of the Seine endeavored to carry out
the requirements of this law on as large and complete a scale as
possible, and accordingly laid the foundations of these two large penal
establishments outside the walls of the city. Those at Fresnes may be
considered as model prisons; it has even been suggested that the comfort
of the inmates has been almost too closely considered, and that, with
the exception of the guards and the jailers, these buildings suggest the
model cheap lodgings of modern practical philanthropy. The architect had
taken the greatest care to assure the well-being of his involuntary
clients, their health and personal cleanliness; their cells--more
spacious than usual--have hardwood floors, the walls are painted and
varnished, as are the table, the chair, and the iron bedstead provided
with softer bedding; the latest mechanical and electrical appliances are
to be found in these very modern dungeons. The extent of the mental and
moral amelioration of the Parisian criminals that will follow the
introduction of this new régime will doubtless be profitable to
contemplate.
In addition to its various prisons, the department of the Seine
maintains two very large establishments for beggars, paupers, vagabonds,
and the wretched of every description, whether they have or have not
records approved by the police. The largest of these _Dépôts de
Mendicité_, that at Nanterre, is at once a prison and a hospital; it
contains three thousand inmates of both sexes, and cost some twelve
millions of francs. Of the five sections into which it is divided, the
first, reserved for voluntary mendicants, is the only one which contains
prisoners, properly speaking, men in one quarter and women in another.
The other sections, each divided likewise into male and female quarters,
are devoted, the second, to voluntary patients whose antecedents are
known; the third, to those whose antecedents are doubtful or unknown;
the fourth, to the impotent, infirm, paralytic, and septuagenarians; the
fifth is the hospital proper. The inhabitants of these different
sections are distinguished from each other, the men by the color of
their woollen caps, and the women by the little trimming of imitation
lace in theirs. The Dépôt de Villers-Cotterets, which occupies the
buildings and dependencies of the celebrated château built by François
I, on an admirable site, was at first a prison, devoted to vagabonds and
beggars of all ages and conditions; since 1889 it has been a _Maison de
Retraite_, an asylum to which are admitted only the aged and infirm
indigent whose past has been without reproach. The number of these
peaceable inmates is about a thousand men and half as many women.
[Illustration: HÔPITAL DE LA SALPÈTRIÈRE, ORIGINALLY AN ARSENAL BUILT BY
LOUIS XIII, AND NOW AN ASYLUM FOR AGED AND INSANE WOMEN. THE STATUE IS
THAT OF DOCTOR PINEL, AN EMINENT BENEFACTOR OF THE INSANE.]
All this imposing judicial edifice of Dépôts, prisons, magistrates, and
high courts of justice is, of course, fed and maintained by the much
humbler, almost unknown, and much more troubled service of searching out
the criminal and laying hands upon him when found. Without the aid of
the "simple police," _serjents de ville_, gendarmes, _brigadiers_, and
_agents de la sûreté_, there could be no ermined judges and no _maîtres
des hautes-oeuvres_. The general methods employed in this obscure but
indispensable preliminary work are much like those made use of elsewhere
in civilized countries, but there are many details, not generally
published, which are interesting, and we are indebted to a spirited
newspaper article, by M. Guy Tomel, for some information concerning the
ways and means of the French police in these matters. He begins by
putting in a plea for these very useful employés of justice: "Have you
ever thought of the very material difficulties which the agents de la
sûreté have to encounter in arresting malefactors? These modest
defenders of society risk their lives daily that you may sleep in peace,
Madame, and earn less at this perilous trade than your coachman or your
_valet de chambre_. For their moral recompense, they have the prospect
of being treated as '_mouchards_' [police spies], not by the thieves and
the assassins, who call them the '_flics_,' but by the respectable
tax-payers who are indebted to them for the minimum of security which we
possess.
"If, by chance, some of the chiefs of this force, as Houillier, Jaume,
and Rossignol, succeed, by dint of acts of bravery, in causing their
names to be known to the general public, the private soldiers of this
army of real salvation live and die in the most perfect _incognito_,
fortunate if they succeed in attaining the age of retirement without
being crippled by some malicious stroke! Remember that they are obliged
to carry out their task without arms, without any brutality. A bandit
injured in a hand-to-hand struggle assumes very quickly the character of
an interesting victim, and there are always to be found sensational
newspapers that will exploit his woes under flaming head-lines: 'Another
Police Outrage!' 'A Brutal Police Agent!' etc.
"The problem that presents itself is, therefore, this one: 'To get in
your power, in exposing yourself as little as possible, and without
doing him any injury, a blackguard who is armed and who is capable of
anything.'"
And he proceeds to explain the very simple tricks and tools by means of
which this somewhat difficult task is accomplished. In the first place,
he states a curious psychological fact,--that, generally, any criminal,
no matter how dangerous or brutal, if suddenly arrested by surprise, is
for the moment so stupefied that he does not think of resistance, and in
this moment may be secured, by the handcuffs or otherwise. This brief
paralysis is apt to be succeeded by a furious outbreak, but in the
majority of cases it is then too late. Were it not for this temporary
catalepsy, how would it be possible, asks M. Tomel, to effect the arrest
of such desperate fellows, dynamiters and anarchists, with no more
bloodshed and fracas than if they were girls of the town! This little
peculiarity of their clients is well known to the police agents, and
they but very seldom fail to take advantage of it.
In the second place, the most dangerous offenders are not, as might be
supposed, the hardened criminals, those who have repeatedly fallen into
the hands of Justice. For them, a long experience has convinced them
that, once caught, there is no escape. Neither are the assassins the
most to be feared,--the sudden collaring by the iron hand of the law
reduces them to temporary imbecility. Those whose arrest is usually
attended with the greatest difficulty are young rascals in their first
offence, and those who are accustomed to being rescued by a band of
their companions. Bankrupts and ruined financiers are also apt to give
trouble,--they take to their revolvers with "deplorable facility, quite
ready to lodge the last bullet in their own heads if the others have not
cleared the field for them."
[Illustration: SCENE IN THE CELL OF AN ACCUSED. After a drawing by R. de
la Nézière.]
It is, therefore, not without a certain amount of information concerning
the irascibility and the bodily prowess of their quarry that the agents
set out in his pursuit. Usually, they hunt in couples; if the game is
reputed unusually dangerous, in larger numbers. For weapons, they carry
each two pieces of stout cord,--a small one, fastened to the middle of a
wooden handle at each end, this is the _cabriolet_; and a large one, the
_ligote_, about two mètres and a half in length. These simple methods of
correction have replaced--except in the country districts and where the
prisoner has to be conducted a considerable distance--the old-fashioned
_poucettes_, or handcuffs. Thus provided, the pursuers endeavor to
surprise their prey as it issues from a house or an inn,--they wear no
uniform, and they in nowise begin by summoning their victim in the name
of the law, so that it is strongly advisable for them to be very sure of
his identity ere they fall upon him from behind, exactly in the manner
of the highwaymen themselves. With one hand they grasp the collar of his
coat, a little below the nape of his neck, and with the other, not his
arm, but the sleeve of his coat. An individual thus collared on each
side is helpless; if he wish to strike with his fists or his feet, he is
obliged to lash out sidewise or obliquely, his arms are held securely;
and the _coup de pied de vache_, which he may endeavor to give with his
feet, though "it will break a tibia like glass," is easily avoided.
Moreover, while he has one foot in the air, his equilibrium is in
danger, and he is promptly brought to earth and secured. Usually,
however, the cabriolet is round his wrist, and he is _bouclé_ before he
can say "Jack Robinson!"
These cord handcuffs are replaced by chain ones in the hands of the
Gardes Municipaux in the service of the Palais de Justice, and the
method of their application is the same,--once around the wrist of the
victim, they can be tightened at pleasure by a simple turn of the
handles in the grasp of the captor, and the pain speedily becomes
intolerable. Even a slight pressure soon produces a numbness in the
muscles of the arm. This simple apparatus--which can be replaced, as in
Tunis, by a noose made in a silk handkerchief--is a somewhat brutal one,
but it has the advantage of securing the victim absolutely for the time
being. For a longer journey, and to avoid the constant personal
attention which the cabriolet requires, the ligote is brought into
action;--this is arranged in a double running noose in which is enclosed
one of the prisoner's wrists, the cord then goes round his waist, passes
under the flap of his pantaloons, and returns to be knotted on the
opposite side. If the captured offender is not likely to give trouble,
one arm is left free, but it is then necessary to watch him;--if both
wrists are secured, he is helpless, and could be confided to the care of
an invalid. So long as he keeps his hands quiet, carrying them in his
pockets, for example, his cord is scarcely felt, but the moment he
begins to agitate them with violent movements, it cuts into his flesh
much like the cabriolet. He cannot rid himself of it, and, as he cannot
swing his arms, he cannot run,--at the end of a hundred yards he is sure
to come to the ground. It is related that a disciple of the Davenport
brothers recently giving an exhibition of his skill in the Salle des
Capucines was brought to confusion by a "flic" who happened to be in the
audience and who asked permission to _ligoter_ the magician ere he was
enclosed in his cabinet. On this occasion, the spirits were quite unable
to liberate him.
This method of securing the prisoner has the disadvantage, if maintained
for too long a period, of checking the circulation of the blood, and for
longer journeys, by railway or steamboat, its employment is now
superseded by that of iron-handcuffs, or _menottes_, of which there is a
pleasing and instructive variety in use. The principle is always that of
a double bracelet secured by a padlock, which permits the victim to move
his arms only in a very restricted manner. For a very objectionable
client, two anklets of iron, connected by a chain, are also applied. On
those occasions on which one agent finds himself with several prisoners
on his hands, or when he comes suddenly upon a sought-for malefactor and
is quite unprovided with the tools of his trade, a very ingenious method
is employed,--he cuts off all the buttons of his prisoner's trousers.
The unhappy offender is thus compelled to hold on to the upper portion
of this useful garment with both hands, and is quite incapable of either
battle or flight, as at the first manifestation they come down about
his heels! Thus is the dignity of Justice maintained, and the interests
of society preserved, as may be seen in the illustration on page 235.
Equally formidable, from the point of view of a perfect commonwealth,
and, perhaps, even more to be commiserated, the immense army of the
helpless and sickly poor,--paupers, paralytics, scrofulous, consumptive,
idiotic, cancerous,--demands from the State or the municipal
administration a machinery as complex and as extensive as the criminals.
For a multitude of these unfortunates the words of Victor Hugo are true:
"They begin in the hospital, and end in the hospice." "The child comes
into the world in a _Maternité_, and, later, if life has not been
generous to him, he finishes his days in one of the asylums for the
aged, at Bicêtre, at the Salpêtrière, at Debrousse, at Brévannes, at
Ivry, after having more than once paid his tribute to sickness in the
wards of some hospital! And still more, at intervals, during certain
difficult hours, he has been obliged to ask aid of the Bureau de
Bienfaisance, so that, during the whole of his life, this unlucky one
has been the pensioner of the _Assistance Publique_."
[Illustration: ARREST OF A DANGEROUS MALEFACTOR BY "AGENTS DE LA SURETÉ"
IN THE QUARTIER BELLEVILLE, CELEBRATED FOR ITS "GUINGUETTES."