The Scranton tribune. (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, November 23, 1895, Page 9, Image 9
9 BIB WELL ON FRANCE latcrestlag Account by Austin Bidwcll of the ministration of Law in France. Radical Differences Between Our System and That Which Satisfies People in the Land of Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. Austin Bidwell, George MacDonald Anil Kdwfird Noves. on whom were passed so horrible a sentence in London for an injury to the Bank of England In 1873, are Btill In town. A Tribune re porter called on them early In the week and hod several interesting conversa tions. While listening to their absorb ing and dramatic stories it was impos sible not to feel regret that men of puch talents and such opportunities as they possessed in early life should have liad so fearful a fate. Our reporter asked Mr. Bldwell what wtrq his sensations on emerging from his imprisonment of twenty years. Mr. Hldwell la a man of magnetic personal ity, a brilliant conversationalist, who speaks with a How or witty and pic turesque language that sustains the at tention of his hearer. The interesting article we publish today is the result of several Interviews. The reports which have reached us of the astonish ing conduct of the Judge In the recent trial of the Marquis de Nayve entirely corroborates Mr. indwell's aecount of what he saw. Different nations have different customs, of course, but it is re volting to our sense of decency to see a high minister of Justice profaning his olllce by such degrading conduct. Mr. Bidwell has published an exceed ingly interesting book of his exper ience written In a nervous and dramatic etylc In the highest degree entertaining and attractive. Tou wish, he cald to l:now what my feelings were on release. It would he easier to say what they were not. I had gone into prison a vigorous young man. I came out worn down. Youth was pone, middle age fading, old nge already settling down upon me. Phy sically I was almost a wreck. Intellect ually perhaps not much better. The spirit In the Arabian Night's story who had passed two thousand years fastened up in a kettle at the bottom of the sea was not more unable to mingle with the world than I was. Something had to be done to pull me up again and It was thought that traveling would help me. I went to Prance and Italy to make myself a little less like a man who had Just fallen from another planet and to find out what had been taking place in the world between my burial and my resurrection a period of twenty-one years. After a 6hort Btay In Paris and a few weeks on the lilvlera, wandering on foot from Nice to Genoa, drinking in the happiness of mere life, gazing at and absorbing scenes of beauty un equalled in the world, except perhaps In the most lovely spots of southern Cali fornia, the sense of existence gradually, came back, and the feeling of humanity began once more to settle on me. Tho Itcturn to Health. .No one who has not actually been through so frightful an experience can understand what the resurrection means from such a death as I had been for many years swallowed up In to light and to fredom and expansion of life, to Joy and to the unutterable beauty of free air and free existence. Joy. how ever, seldom kills. . Happiness all men easily grow accustomed to, and in Its Bunsnine tne pressure or past misery soon grows faint and Is gradually for gotten. The, whitened hair and the fal tering gait assert themselves, unaccus tomed objects everywhere show them selves, faces we had known and loved are "lost awhile," others have come Into the world and grown to manhood dur ing the years when the blackness of darkness had encircled us, everywhere the world is new and we, feel for a time that we are not of it; but gradually these changes, like the others, grow fa miliar, and we accept and fit into, the situation. Prison life and every thing connected with It had burned Itself too deeply Into my nature lor me easily to inrow on the remembrance of It. t had so long resented the vindictive ferocity with which I was treated' hat Interest of a certain kind still clung to all matters in any way belonging to such subjects. I was curious to know something of the attitude which France adopts to wards those of her children whom Mar tin Tupper calls the unlovely ones. I had read a good deal of It,' but to see It with my own eyes was not easy unless, indeed, by qualifying myself In the way which gave me my English experience. ' This way, however, was too objection able to think of, and permission to ex amine Is one of the most diflicult of all things to obtain. At last, though, with a good deal of help, with a little ex pansion and a little Judicious suppres sion. I succeeded, and with a general order from the minister of the Interior to the administration of all orisons to permit me to visit them I started out on a tout In quest of Information. Not many steps were necessary to show me that French Ideas on prison subjects are altogether different from those of England and America. Ideas seem to change with boundary lines. Names which within one set of mountains . are . household words but few . frillies away, across a river or over a mountain, across a river or over a mountain, are not only utterly unknown, but even unpronounceable. The French are eternally boasting of their freedom, and would be delighted to force all other nations to accept It, but he would be a brave as well as a strong man .who would attempt to persuade Amer icans cr Englishmen to adopt It. Legal ideas and maxims which for centuries have been at the very foundation of Jaw with us are unknown to French men. Expressions In the highest de gree Idiomatic and full of meaning to ourselves are not only without mean ing on the continent of Europe, but seem to be unintelligible Jargon. Speak to a Frenchman about habeas corpus and it Is like speaking to an English man about Nebraska or Oklahoma; he will think you mean a patent medicine or a new religion; Guilty I mil Proved Innocent. ' "With us every man Is Innocent until proved guilty. In France every accused man Is guilty until he proves himself to be Innocent. With us no man can be compelled to incriminate himself, but In "La Republicaue" no effort Is spared to compel admissions. In all English speaking countries It Is held better that a hundred guilty persons escape rather than that one Innocent man should suf fer; but In France and In all Europe the maxim seems to be "better that a nun dred Innocent should suffer, than that one guilty person escape." The moment a man Is accused of any offence an "agent de la surete.'.' In English, a detective Is sent to arrest him. The warrant Is signed by the "Procureur," who in all his other func tions correspond to our district attor ney. He Is assisted by a number, of subordinates called "Juges destruc tion" whose office, like their name, Is unanown wi u. unce arrested the pro cureur may order the prisoner to be kept "all secret," that Is, in solitary confinement, deprived of communica tion with any one except the officers of the law. Emerging from their hands he goes Before tne judges where, after passing an . unusually disagreeable quarter of an hour, he receives sentence and fades Into seclusion. It was la the month of October, when With the minister of the interior's order In my pocket, I presented myself at the :e of the "prefet do department de 7 I at I.Avre and requested per J tl v-1 til establishments un der his direction. He was a man of gigantic Blxe for a Frenchman, an old army man of course, like all his coun trymen, and with that kind of con scious power in reserve upon his reso lute and close-shut mouth, shaded with a heavy black mustache, which seems to be typical of men of his profession the world over. My order gave him greta surprise for. for cofe reason which, no doubt, seems to it good, the French government preserves the pro foundest reticence upon all matters re lating to prisons and their administra tion. He received me. however, with great politeness, a circumstance due, perhaps, as much to my companion, an American In business for years In Havre and well known to the pferect, as to the minister's order. This, of course, would have been obeyed, but without some additional spur the great man would have seen no reason for any ex traordinary effusion. Tricky but Honest Officers. I was glad to be brought close to a specimen of French beauraucracy, and to see and study at leisure one of those men, who In France, more than any other country, seem parts of a ma chine working. Intelligently, of course, but in exact harmony with all the other parts of the mechanism. He occupies a position In tl "departement" analo gous to that of Byrnes, the late super intendent of police in New York, and his salary Is 8,000 a year another cir cumstance of similarity with the great New Yorker. One other point of like ness completes the resemblance; he di rects the movements of a police force whose purity may not perhaps excite fears of their early death, but who, on the whole, are quite unacquainted with boodle. After a few minutes' pleasant conver sation, the prefect sent for an "agent" whom he directed to accompany us. The contrast between this "agent" and his New York brethren was curious. The American would have shaken hands, declared himself glad to see me and as wo started out would very likely have offered a cigar. The Frenchman took off his hat. bowed, and begged to know how he could serve us. Active as a cat. restless, his small black eyes actually burning In his head, his every movement seemed to be the preparation for a spring. The Rue do Paris Is the great business street of France's largest port In the North, and as we went along It the agent seemed to have something to say of nearly every one. Arrived at the station house, the cap tain was told of my wishes and of the authority to gratify them, when he wistfully placed himself and all his be longings at my disposal, to remain there until I wanted them. Nowhere In the world Is there more hat politeness than in France, but the Frenchman who would really lift his hand to serve you would be a remarkable curiosity, In deed. The captain, or Monsieur de Commls saire, as his French title Is, was a small man, nearer 60 than 60, with a sallow complexion speaking loudly of absinthe, and wearing Iron-grey side-whiskers, the longest I ever saw on a man. His salary is $400 and many a weary year of service it has taken to put him in so magnificent a position. And yet for him it is a good one. Frugality Is the virtue, such as It Is, of his class of Frenchmen. With 2,000 francs a year he can have all the enjoyment he Is capable of understanding, and when he is superannuated, the certainty of enough to keep him from starvation. The room we found him In was a large one, divided In the center by a low wooden partition, behind which were a number of stretcher beds. "You make your prisoners pretty com fortable," I said to htm, pretending to believe they were kept for that pur pose. "What sir!" he gasped, " what sir! do you think we put prisoners In them? No doubt Monsieur has never seen a gendarmerie before! "What are the beds, then, for, and where do you put the arrested?" "The beds are for night officers not on actual duty; but for the prisoners, come, sir, come, I will show you how we lodge them." He skipped across the room and open ed a door at the end. "Here, sir, here is where we put our "mauvals sujets." I looked In. It Is not easily to aston ish me today, particularly in anything relating to police matters, but this time I was thoroughly astonished. A cell about twelve feet square, damp and freezing cold, filthy beyond expression, a small ur, glazed window high up, gar nished with bars, and with a raised platform about two feet from the ground, was for the moment unoccu pied, but did not long remain bo. "Do you mean to say that you put human beings Into such a place as that?" I asked, shrinking at the same time from an Iron tub In the corner, from which Issued an indescribably abominable odor. "Why certainly," he said, " why not? Nobody gets In here but vagabonds and criminals!" It was at the moment when cholera was raging In Havre and ocean steam ers had stopped going there. "Well" said I, "In my country you would be indicted as a nuisance, and I' should think you would be all afraid of being swept off by the cholera." Some Jail Litersturo. I looked at the walls and saw speci mens of the literature usually adorning such hotels. Among them was a la ."Mort aux vaches!" "Mort aux tantes!" "Death to cows!" Death to Aunts!" I could not but wonder as this animosity towards animals so useful as cows, and towards '.relations usually so kind hearted and Indulgent asaunts, and the explanation showed that to be brought up among French people Is not suffi cient to Initiate ena Into all the niceties of the language. . Cows Is the word em ployed by the usual occupants of the apartment to Indicate what we call stool pigeons, and aunts Is (he proper term to denote anyone who excites their contempt or Indignation. While talking to the Commlssalre, the outer door was flung open and a crowd rushed In, some of them holding a well dressed man, who made no resistance nnd seemed less disturbed than any of them. Away flung the Commlssalre and instantly developed a high excitement He chattered and screamed like an en raged monkey, A score of -questions were shot at the prisoner, in as many seconds, and then he was abused for not answering between his coolness and the excited screaming of the Commls salre and his attendants. : He -was an Englishman but spoke French' with easy fluency. As soon as he got a chance to speak' he said, "Tou have ' asked me a good many questions; which one would you like me to answer first?''- Then the screams be gan once more. The commlssalre jumped up and sat down again, picked up pa pers, threw them aside, upset his Ink bottle, and Anally asked him his name and country. , While this .questioning was going on I asked one of the by standers who had crowded In with the frlsoner w tat the man had done. "He an assassin, sir," but my Informant was contradicted by another one, who told me that the prisoner had picked a , man's pocket At this stage a man without ft hat forced hi way In, declar- Ing that he was the prosecutor,, that he was the proprietor of an hotel and that the prisoner had cheated him by not paying his board.' A past master In the art of Independ ence can scarcely conceive of any hlgn- er flight than for a French hotel keep er to complain of being cheated. 4 tie matchless effrontery of their own cheating, the certainty and skill with which they get at the money of every one who falls into their tentacles ought to excite a little sympathy In their bosoms toward their less skilful fel low robbers, but this one was as furious and Indignant as though he had never sold St. Julien for Margaux. or charged two francs for a candle In his life. He told the commlssalre his story and the end of the matter was that the Eng lishman was thrust Into the filthy den I had just been looking at. Here he would remain at least that night and perhaps the next one, too, lying oa the raised platform, shivering with cold and suffocated with stench. From the station house pote de police ho would be taken before the juge destruc tion to be Interrogated. This was a per formance I was anxious to see and I got an Introduction to one of them to make myself acquainted with his meth ods. Queer Practices of the Judge. The title of juge d'lnctructton is to our ears a little misleading. He is In no sense a Judge. His oliice Is not only unknown to us, but It would not for ope moment he tolerated amongst us. The French Idea Is that the accused person knows more about the accusation than anybody else, and If poslhle he Is to be made to tell about It. The juge d'ln Btructlon is the official whose business It is to get. their secrets from pris oners and force them, by any means, to confession. Some of them have quite a reputation for their ability in this way, and nothing is more dreaded by the guilty than this "interrogation." Practice gives the questioner quite an astounding degree of skill, and tho popular, probably the correct, belief is that there Is no trick, no cunning, no artifice, no illusive promises rom which they will shrink to entrap a confession. The juge destruction Is a kind of educated policeman, with the policeman's cunning sharpened by edu cation, nnd the not too scrupulous French society barely suffers him as a kind of hanger-on to its outmost de batable fringe, where the respectable shades off Into the doubtful. The preliminary examination of the accused takes place with closed doors. No one is present but the Juge de struction, his clerk and the prisoner. The room Is arranged something like a merchant's office, with a "carpet, a couple of desks and a few chairs. As in all courts nnd rooms connected -with the administration of Justice In France, a large wooden crucifix Is hung over the door. Examinations take place at all hours, midnight being Just as likely a time as any other. In Important cases the Jugo destruction to whom police discoveries are at once communicated, will send for the prisoner at any hour, night or day, to aik him about tho new information. The one I saw was' a slender young man about 30, with very light hair, a white face with a frightful expression, a repulsive smile and a general Uriah Heep air. He bore an Irish name, and was probably a descendant of some exile of Erin of "No Popery" days. In everything but his name, however, he was a typical Frenchman, the few words of English he knew being the result of hard work at school. He had hoard something about the methods of the English courts, which he thought ridiculous. His surprise was great, though, when he heard that prisoners could not be compelled to speak against themselves, and wanted to know how It was possible to got at the truth. A Sample Examination. While we were talking a prisoner was brought In by a gendarme, and was invited by the Juge d' Instruction to seat himself on a' chair by the desk. The judge sat down also, and I no ticed that the light was arranged In such a manner as to fall on the pris oner, while the questioner himself was in the shadow.. The time was evening, and the Bhort October daylight had disappeared In the darkness. The pris oner was a type of his class, such as storytellers and theaters represent him, but such as he rarely appears In reality. His ignoble face suggested nothing but cunning, and as the case against him was very weak, his cunning at present was not overshadowed by his terrors. He had been a prisoner for some weeks, and began by asking the judge to re lease him. I remained seated at a dis tance, watching these two men of ly ing, audacity and ruse, and mentally comparing the scene- with such pro ceedings In our own courts. The judge said he supposed the prisoner was get ting tired (ennuye) of his confinement, and asked him many and minute ques tions, promising to represent him In a favorable light to the judges and urg ing him to confess, but the only answer he received was 'Je n'en sals rien' I know nothing about it. Tired at last at the prisoner's obstinacy, ,the Judge ordered him back with the promise that he should remain In jail until he came to a better disposition. When we were again alone I asked the judge If there was any limit to the time an accused person could be kept, and was told thirteen months In theory, but In practice we sometime keep them as long as eighteen; if by that time we can find nothing against them we let them go. It Is perhaps presumptuous to criti cise a state of things with which a whole nation is satisfied, but I have since heard of cases where the hard ship seemed to be crying. About the time I am speaking of, a young man, the owner of a boot and shoe store, was arrested In Paris on a charge of theft. He was detained seven months when It was proved certainly that he was Innocent, the real theif being dis covered. He was brought up to the of fice of the procureur, where without one word of apology or sympathy, and without one farthing of damages, he was put into the street. His shop was shut. His employes had found the oc casion good to make a little profit for themselves. The poor fellow was ut terly ruined and In his despair he hang ed himself. The papers mentioned the affair with scarcely any comment, and the next day It was forgotten. An Instance was told me of the Judge d' Instruction's methods which will ex plain better than much description French notions of what Is proper and dignified In Judicial Investigations. ' Lying to Gain a Pplnt. In Vlncennes a woman was accused of embezzling 30,000 francs, the prop erty of her aunt. She was married to a man several years her Junior, and, as Is always the' case in such marriages, she doted on him. There was no doubt of her guilt. She had taken the money to spend on her husband, but the Judge's Instruction was not satisfied, he wanted the husband also, and tried to Induce the woman to Implicate him, but In vain. She stuck to it that her husband was Innocent. At last the judge sent for her again, and after a few questions he askeu,"Where did the money come from which your husband gave to Mademois elle A?" "Who Is Mademoiselle A?" asked the wife. "Oh, come now. don't pretend Ignorance. You have told me a good many things which I know to be false and I advise you not to keep on trilling with justice. Don't try to make me believe you are not acquainted with Mademoiselle A." "But, I assure you. Monsieur le Juge d' Instruction, that I have never heard of her." "Do you really mean to say that - you do not know Mademoiselle A?" "Certainly." "Oh, well then. I am sorry I said any thing about her. I thought that of course you knew her." "But who is she? I desire to know." "She Is your husband's mistress!''' "What!" she screamed, "my husband's, mistress! Ah, the wretch! Ah, the ungrateful villain. This is how he treats me for my kindness, Is it!, Very well, then, I have always said he Is Innocent He Is not. He Is guilty. He knew perfectly well what I was doing and where the money came from." - A deposition was at once made which she signed, and In a few moments her husband was a prisoner. The whole story of Madem oiselle A was false. ' No such person existed. The Juge d' instruction was playing on the woman's Jealousy, to get her to accuse her husband. Later, when she found how she "had been duped, she tried to recede her charge, but was not permitted. Finally she was sentenced to five years' imprison ment and her husband to four. Justly, perhaps, but by means which gentlemen among ourselves would as little think of employing as they would of commit ting the act which was punished. The examination before the Juge d' Instruction constitutes In reality the trial The "instruction" Is for the judges, and In ordinary cases the trial seldom takes more than a few minutes. The papers are sent to the court with, if possible, the prisoner's confession. The court asks him If he acknowledges the facts read over, and if he does, sen tence follows. The object of courts of justice In all countries is, of course, the discovery of truth, but methods differ widely. After learning how preliminaries are man aged, the next thing was to witness a court scene. It Is scarcely necesary to say these differ as nvjch from ours as the Juge d' Instruction from any officer we possess. Court Processes Described. The lowest criminal court In France, the "cour correctlonnelle," embraces functions which we wVide between the police court and the general sessions. It does ordinary police court business, judging drunks and fighters, and it has power to Intiict sentences of five years' Imprisonment, but not more. It Is com pose of three judges, the president and two associate judges, who sit in robes and wear what seem to be Persian hats on their heads. At one side sits the Procureur. In the body of the court, within the bar, are the lawyers, each In his gown, but not wearing wigs, as in England. The rest of the chamber Is given to spectators. Over the Judges' seats hangs the crucifix, replacing the sword In English courts, and to a con siderable extent typifying the differ ence, for, however objectionable meth ods In t rance may appear to us, the ferocity of England is conspicuously absent. Shortly before one o'clock the prison ers for trial were brought up from be low. At once the three judges took their places. The president was Monsieur Fougere, a short, stout man, with a red swollen face, not unlike M. Thiers in figure. On his right sat one of the as sociates, an elderly man of no particu lar appearance, whose greatest duty ap peared to be to look wise. On the presi dent's left was the other, quite a young man. who merely coincided with the president's decision. A few vagabonds were disposed of In as many minutes, and then a case was called for which the president was evi dently waiting, for as the prisoner stepped up to the bar an expectant and gratified "Ah" escaped from the lips of His Honor. The prisoner was charged with some fraudulent trickery or other In which he had displayed a good deal more cun ning than bruins, and the prospect of tearing him to pieces seemed to give the Judge an appetizing relish. For a prosecuting attorney to roast a prisoner is nothing extraordinary. It is part of his office to make him as black as possible andtogrind exceedingly line the poor wretch who falls Into his clutches, but with the name of judge we are accustomed to associate ideas of dignity and decorum, and their absence would shock us painfully. Until the appearance of the prisoner, but for the difference In language I might have fancied myself in America. From this moment all 'was changed. The charge was read and the president began to question him, going Into every detail of his offence, laughing loudly. Joking and calling the attention of the filthy rabble who had crowded into the court room as spectators, probably be cause for the moment they were not there as prisoners. The louder they laughed the more the president joked, gesticulating, constantly appealing to the members of the court with a "n'est-ce-pas?" is It not so? but really In tending his appeal for the rabble. A Jocular Judge. After completely exhausting the sub ject and his fund of Jokes he gave the prisoner's counsel permission to speak. Tho Instant the lawyer began his plead ing, the judges picked ur papers, appar ently relating to the next case, and busied themselves deeply with them. It must have been impossible for their honors to hear a word he said, but he struggled manfully to the end. When he sat down the papers were laid aside, the president made 41 pretence of con sulting with the others about the sen tence, that is he turned to the old man, who nodded his answer to a whisper, and then to the young one Who exer cised the muscles of his neck In the same manner. Turning to the prisoner the president recited in a breathless gabble the article of the code which con demned him and finished with a sen tence of. eighteen months' Imprison ment. .. " Not much sympathy could be felt for him, but the conduct of the Judge was revolting. I afterwards. Jearned that with the judges this kind of conduct Is habitual. Their object appears to be to show their wit, or as the French call It "esprit" a word which Includes wit and cleverness and a' great deal more besides. .... The action of the court in the recent trial of the Marquis de Mayve excited the astonishment of the English and American press and some of the Paris papers have given the Judge severe re bukes for kis unfairness and levity, but it will take something more than news paper scolding to make much of a change among them. One provision of French law Is alto gether - admirable. Every . condemned man has ten days after sentence In which to appeal. He has but to notify the Jailer who Informs the procureur. Each department has a court of appeals situated in the "chef-lieu.'' the county town, and there the appellant Is con veyed. The case Is heard before a bench of judges, five In number, wno confirm, diminish or Increase, the sentence' as they see fit, and their decision is final. One further degree the case can be car ried. The count de cassation may be ap pealed to for errors in form but It has no power to change the sentence. All this Is done without expense to the pris oner, and If he has no money to employ counsel one Is furnished him. Anxious to Get Into Jail. With the exception of our county Jail rounders the prison class In France must be alone of Its kind in the world. In no other country do we hear of men who deliberately get themselves Into prison with the object of being better off. more comfortable, better fed and better lodged. At the approach of win ter the roving vagabonds who manage to dodge the police In summer, . find sleeping In haystacks or In empty freight cars too trying for their delicate systems, and they accordingly prepare to return to their usual quarters, the county jail. Thieves by no means wish to get Into prison. On the contrary, they are very sorry for themselves wTien they do get there, but the tramp who unwilling to work, Is not ashamed to beg, looks upon the Jail as his natural retreat In time of need. Nothing would Induce him to steal In order to be found out. The law has very real terrors on that side for him, but he knows perfect ly ' well how to -profit by his asylum without running any' such dangers. When freedom at last becomes a bur den, and tightening his belt no longer subdues his hunger, he picks up a stone, watts until he sees a policeman looking at him and then smashes a gas lamp, up -runs tne ooDoy ana cap tures the tramp, who a few days after gets what he wanted. If he finds the sentence not long enough to take him through the winter, he waits until the tenth day, then appeals, which takes about ten days more, and hones for bet ter luck, which means a longer sentence as an appellant. - , One reason for their, anxiety to' get Into prison Is that they can work from the moment they enter. Their work Is not merely paid for but they can spend part of their earnings at the canteen and what they get must be luxury Indeed to them. It occasionally happens that ft tramp determines to lay up a little cap ital tor himself, mort than hla ordinary two or three months would furnish. His plan is simple, effective and without the least danger of incurring a criminal reputation. The penalties for insulting a court of justice are very severe. The Intention of legislators was to prevent such offences. What they really did in making the law was to open an easy road to comparative comfort and a sure savings bank for several years to any who choose to avail themselves of the privilege. The aspirant to comfort and savings begins by breaking a gas lamp, the tramp's favorite locklng-up offence. He Is rewarded with perhaps thirty days, when he Immediately Informs the president that he la a pig, and In return for the Information, is gratified with the two or three months he was looking for.- If he possesses a trade he is sure of coming out with seven or eight hundred francs, besides living well in the mean time. The court of' appeals for the depart ment of the Seine in which Havre lies, is at Rouen. A .couple of hours ride took me to the quaint old city. The prison is In a suburb called by the sin gularly inappropriate name of Bonne Nouvelle, Good News, almost exclusive ly occupied by Qerman and Polish Jews the Invincible, indestructible race which I had seen in former days in many an eastern city where in synagogues old Rabbis commented on the Talmud and announced the Liberator. One cannot help thinking where do the poor Jews of this quarter come from. How have they established themselves In this sub urb of Rouen with those stalls., of which they alone and the Auvergnats alone have the secret, those shops where the seller finds means to get rid of the un vendable old pieces of iron, old buttons and pieces of wood apd odd bits of ma terial? ; Inside a Typical French Prison. Passing tho indescribable windows where hang the rags of the crowds that invade the sidewalk, and through swarms of children attesting the prom ise that theif seed shouit. be as the sands of the sea, I arrived at last at the prison, one of the largest In France, built by the first Napoleon. I was re ceived by the chief warden, a very fine looking man, who apologized for the ab sence o' the governor, sick at home. A moment later a number of prisoners arrived, some to submit themselves to the court of appeals. Ranged in a line the chief took their names and senten ces. "Why did you appeal?" he said to one whose sentence was thirty days. "It was not enough," said the vaga bond;" I wanted more. What am I to do in the cold weather? "Then you want to prolong the situation?" "That's what!" and .he passed on. "Twenty three convictions already for vagran cy," the chief said to me... "How many prisoners have you here?" I asked. "About two thousand." "And how much can they earn a day?" "On an average, one franc, half (thirty cents) of which they may spend at the canteen. Tho rest Is kept until their (Uncharge. Some earn as much as five and six francs a day." While we were talking a prisoner came from the inside and complained that he was not allowed to buy any thing at the canteen. "Perhaps you have no money," said the chief. "Oh yes, I have; . I have three francs." "Three francs! Of course you can take nothing if you have only three francs." "Is your restaurant so blooming aris tocratic, then, that you don't sell any thing for less than three francs?" "We sell things for much less, for two sous even, but we require three francs on deposit with the office for the coffin." "What coffin?" "Yours." "What!" roared the fellow, "do you Intend to kill me?" "Not at all. We don't Intend to kill you. But it you die who is to pay for the coffin?" French administrative talent looks a long way ahead, evi dently.' The chief's duties making It Impossi ble to come with me himself, he de tailed a subordinate to guide me. The workshop resembled those of England, except that they were, If possible, more cheerless, with their population of tailors, binders, shoemakers, working quickly. ' . It would not bo necessar; for them to do otherwise to be happyat liberty, but when at liberty, not o,,e of them will retain In the feeblest ("degree the habit of work which they seem here to be accustomed to. I have often won dered what can be the spring so utterly warped In their Interior mechanism. Some unknown Influence seems to oper ate In nature to produce human foxes and wolves and the best solution of the problem probably Is the suppression of low saloons and a strong police force. Compared with the abject degradation of their lives without the walls, their condition la by contrast almost com fortable, but to most men It would seem altogether loathsome. The men are not confined In cells at night; they sleep In Immense dormitor ies, entrance to which Is guarded by heavy Iron doors. A bluish air was hanging In the room where a lighted match ought to cause an explosion. No bedsteads were there, but the floors were covered with filthy mattresses, still more filthy blankets being rolled up at the head. ,The place was alive with vermin. ,1 saw them crawling on the beds and clothing, and the stench, sev eral hours after the men had left, was appalling. , "How many men do you put In here?" I. asked. . "About two hundred." "They must be in a filthy condition." ' '"Why, sir, they are not too clean, of course. We give them a shower bath occasionally und that Is all we can manage." Proceeding along the corridor we met a prisoner who failed to give the usual salute and who was roundly abused by the keeper for want of politeness. The Idea was peculiarly French. Here was a rascal proud and happy to work from 4 o'clock In the. morning till 9 o'clock at night for 60 cents a day, whose one aim In life was to get money enough for a drunken spree on those rare occasions when, once a month he was allowed a day off; berating a probably better man thin, himself for not being polite. Had he been polite all was well, failing that, no abuse was too great for him. Heading to tho Prisoners. Down stairs we found the men await ing trial seated on benches In a long stone passageway, cold and damp as a Vault, the moisture trickling down the walls, covering the floor with wet and slime. At one side a prisoner was read ing In a droning voice for the "distrac tion," In the French sense of the word, of the prisoners, and his tone was excel lently fitted, I thought, to produce dis traction In the English sense. A mo ment after, a bell was sounded and they rushed Into a large yard for exercise. The day was very cold. A sharp frost was biting cars and noses. Pipes were brought out and lltrhted and all hands started to walk to keep warm. Presently the door was flung open again to admit a new comer who was greeteu with a roar partly of recogni tion, partly of derision. He was the most abject creature I had ever seen in my life. A tattered coat fastened with pins covered his shirtless body. His trowsers torn away from a little below the knees, left the rest of his legs naked, and a pair of shoes with no soles to speak of and well ventilated In the up pers did very little to keep his feet from the pebbles. Under his arm he carried the day's allowance of bread given him on entering. The Instant he got Into the yard he started off at full speed to keep himself from freezing. While looking at the poor wretch with feelings ' of pity and compassion I heard a voice behind me say in English "quite a auue! Tne person addressed was evidently a man of great piety, ac customed to be what revivalists and Salvation Armyists call much In prayer, for he instantly offered up a short but fervent supplication that Heaven would blind him, blast him. curse him and damn him, and having finished his de votions he proceeded to observe that the new arrival was the bloodiest go he had seen since the last one. I turned to look at the speakers,' and being turned I saw three as fine specimens of the blackleg and cutthroat as ever Balti more produced in her plug-ugly days. Their dress and accent showed that our side of the water was responsible for them. They were from New York they told me, and when at home "hung out" ftt ft etruia gallon' hoarding house la Water street, of which they gave me the proprietor's name, but as It is unknown to fame except perhaps as recorded in police court annals, I took no notice of It and it has escaped my memory. They were sailors and had come over to Havre and thence up the river to Rouen where they had deserted, been captured and were new held until the vessel was ready to sail, when they would be put on board again and sent off in her. I have heard , some swearing In my time and am not easily excited by any accomplishment in that line but so In genious and elaborate a combination of oaths as formed their vocabulary, was something fresh, and their cultivation must have cost them long practice and study. They had to salt, they said, and would go to the many adjectlved Havre on the many adjectlved ship and there they would desert again, but if com pelled to go to the many adjectlved sea with that many adjectlved captain they would cut. bis many adjectlved heart out of his many adjectlved body before they were out. of sight of the many ad jectlved land. Their looks could never bring an action for damages against their language and their deeds would doubtless correspond to both if they got the chance. But threatened men live long and I dare say the captain did not meet his fate that voyage. Sea captains are not too gentle as a rule, the forecas tle of a sailing ship Is not a paradise with angels, but with such inhabitants as these three thugs the crack of the captain's revolver is a better persuasive than all the precepts of the gospel. One. Assassin's Bravado. A short distance from the sailors a group had formed round a fellow who was keeping them laughing loudly. "Who Is that Jolly fellow?" I asked the keeper. "That Is Bourdon who mur dered his mistress a few days ago at Havre. He is waiting his trial at the assizes." It was a frightfully cruel murder. While walking with the girl at night he stabbed her to the heart and ran. For tuna1"l) he was seen, chased and cap tured. I had niet many murderers be fore but never any of such revolting In difference. Going up to him I said: "Well Bourdon, how do you alnk It will go with you?" "I don't know sir," he said, 'Tou see 1 am innocent; the girl stabbed herself, But I have no money and can get no counsel so I shall have to suffer. I may get five years. Not that I expect It. The sentence will probably be two, but I shall not be crushed if I get Ave. , "Don't you thlnk'lt might be well to look for something more? Murder Is a serious matter. The law keeps a guil lotine for that sort of thing." "Bah! he said, "What for a 'putln'?" "She may have been a 'putln,' as you say, but the Judge will protect her life as carefully as Ma la no Cat not's." He mocked at the thought and as I moved away asked me for some tobac co,, for your French peasant's hand goes out as naturally as an Italian organ grinder's. A few weeks after, I saw an account of his execution. He had gone to trial full of confidence, but as the case went on he grew anxious, then ter rified and white, and when he was con victed and sentenced he fainted. Cas sation followed. . Everything was found in form. His petition to the president was rejected and when his last morning dawned he had to be carried to the guil lotine. I came away feeling that If the French system is cheaper It is In the last degree demoralizing. In the various prisons scattered throughout the country there are always more than a hundred thous and men confined, the great majority voluntarl.y beciu'e they prefer com parative comfort and the certainty of possessing some money at release, to the squalor of vagabondage or the ne cessity to work In freedom. There are three grades of prisons. The first like that of Rouen for mis demeanors entailing no political dis abilities. Next In severity are the malsonB centrales corresponding to our penitentiaries. Incarceration In one or them brings with It loss of electoral privileges until restored. The last grade, the deepest and most terrible which can befall a Frenchman, is "travaux forces." This punishment Is not Inflicted In France. The forces Is transported to the settlement of New Caledonia near Australia, from which he la never allowed to return. His con dition Is-that of civil death. From the moment the sentence is passed he Is lost to his family and to his country. Of course such a doom is the. fate of only the most dangerous felons. Home there are, however, who Incur the exile with out the disabilities. - v Habitual Criminals aro Transported. France will not tolerate habitual criminals In her midst. Any one who has undergone four terms of Impris onment for felony for periods longer than three months Is bandlshed for life to the same settlement of New Cale donia, but Is allowed to go at liberty on. arrival. If ho has a trade he can find work; If not the government em ploys him' or a hit of ground with farming Implements Is given him. France gets rid of them. What be comes of them afterward matters lit tle. The central prisons are twenty-two In number and they hold about twenty two thousand Inmates. Galllon in the department of the Eure, midway be wen Rouen "and Paris, about' three miles oft the railroad, Is a village which grew up around the mediaeval chateau of the family .of La Rochefoucauld. The present duke Is the owner. In the Interior; of the courtyard a slab of marble let Into the wall tells in a Latin Inscription of the visit of Louis XIV In 1660. This was the spot first chosen for a refuge for Louis XVI, a place which he abandoned for his un lucky Journey to Varennes. In 1798 the owner leased It to the government for ninety-nine years to be used as a prison. . When France wants a prison instead of building a fortress like the English prisons she confiscates a monastery or hires a chateau. Tearing out the inside for dormitories and workshops, a few bars at the windows finish the work. Guards are set and the establishment is ready. On the occasion of my visit the officer In charge was one Beaunler. He had been about twenty years in the service and hnd just been nromoted to the po sition of director. The grounds of the chatPau are nartltloned off In small yards used by the' Inmates for exer cising and the different squads are anxiously kept from becoming too closely acquainted. The entrance to the. governor's office Is through an old tower which has stood there more han six hundred years.' Sir centuries of grinning have not tired the old gar goyles, tho OrlfTlhs. the "Hvdras an! Ciilmoras dire" grinning todav frcm evety cnle-n as thev grinned the dav the carver left them two hundred years before Columbus sailed to America. At one end of the room on a raised dais the "dlrecteur."with several offi cials was' sitting at a half moon table listening to reports vof misdemeanors and to requests of various kinds from prlsoners--"Why did you commit the act for. which you are reported?" he asked one man. "Perhaps if I had been such an ass. as you 1 would not have dpne It," was the answer. "Thirty days 'coachot' " roared the director and officers hustled the offender out After the sitting I asked to see the coachot (dark cell). In ft separate building the floor of. which Is three feet below the surface heavy doors gave entrance each to a cell paved with stone with no fur niture whatever. The deathly cold chilled one even well dressed and mere ly passing. One after another I looked in and saw miserable wretches shiver ing, blue with cold, trying to keep their blood warm with walking. The only clothing they had on was what the es tablishment furnished, a cotton shirt, a jacket vest and trowsers and on their feet ft pair of thin slippers made from FROM WALL STREET TO NEWGATE, By AUSTIN EIDWELL interest and Ttlue."- Clarenee A. Heward, "yirLd7,?f t,0.,l1 Powerfully writtea.' Heir II. K Handy. . -t at powerful aieti lam aaa dramatis scenes tasks the book a weadur te ."-Mrs. Dr. Helen TUHmnh, "u great. interest mranaad nlaitdilv "-ijrjMftJ.P-jB, worn out garments, if they want more they must pay for them. When under punishment extra garments are taken away. Nothing but this thin bit of cloth kept their feet from the stone floor, and their sufferings must have been la mentable. "How long do you keen men ' here?" "Well Monsieur, the limit It ninety days but there is a war to keep them longer. An examination of their oflences can be put off from week to week so that they can really be kept ninety days more if the directorchooses. Sometimes when he gets hold of a man he does not like he keeps him that way. At the end of six months few want any, more of It". . More Prison Cruelties. After a short conversation he hap pened to mention the "oubliettes." I asaed to be shown them. Going down a stone staircase of which I counted a hundred and twenty-two steps, when I began to suspect that the center of the earth could not be very far away, we arrived at a frightful dungeon, dug or iginally for who can tell what nameless cruelty by some lord of the chateau in the brave days of old. Deathly cold, giving out the suffocating odor of an encased vault, black with Egyptian darkness, well might the man think who got there that he had left hope behind -"Surely," said I, "You never put men here!" "Ah, out Monsieur, sometimes but not for long. Three or four days generally exhausts them; ten days would probably kill them, but we watch against accident No one was in the dungeon at the moment but I could be lieve that an "accident" might easily happen In a good deal less than tea days. When we reached the upper world once) more the men were filing from the va rious shops to the refectories. In no French pMor. Is there breakfast, dinner or supper. The meal Is called "la soape," the soup, because nothing but soup is supplied by the establishment, the "soup malgre" made without meat or any of the ingredients which In our minds go to make up what we under stand by the name. France has an objeetlon to providing law-breakers with board free. What will just keep a man from dying of star vation Is given, anything more must be paid for either by work or from the prisoner's own resources. In the refectory I watched the long lines as they walked rapidly in. taking their places at long, narrow tables, each row sitting behind another. Large trays lay on the floor filled with edibles from the canteen. With the name of prison we associate usually the Idea of more or less privation and suffering, but any one who visits the Oalllon re fectory at meal time must modify fog any such prejudice. I hesitate to write for publication what I saw there. I expect to be told: that . my Imagination serves me for facts, and yet I look down at the mo ment the articles I saw on the trays as they were quickly distributed to the owners. A cheap restaurant has not so many edibles, and I could not help thinking that the London board of prison directors would go Into convul sions had they been permitted to look on. Earning Good Wages. "How do you expect," I asked M. Beaunler, "that they will keep out if you furnish them with such accommodation within?" "We do not expect It," he said, "we know that a certain class will get Into prison anyhow and we make them pay for their living. The govern ment will not feed them, but It sees no reason why they should be starved or why they should be the only ones from whom no profit ought to be made. As a matter of fact the prisons are more than self-supporting. The canteen ser vice of the state yields a considerable Income. Scarcely anything Is sold at less than a hundred per cent profit. We will not allow wine or tobacco, but the necessaries of life are furnished." In answer to a nuestion about the av erage earnings: "You shall nee ior your self," he said. "In a few minutes they will return to the shops and then you will be able to judge." In one of the work rooms where a hundred prisoners were chair making I spoke to one intel ligent looking fellow and asked, "How much do you earn a day?" "About sis francs, sir." "Six francs!" I exclaimed, "why a workman outside could hardly, earn that much." "That Is very true, Blr, but here we work much longer hours and we have no chance to 'falre la noce' go on a spree. 'How long Is your sentence?" "Five years." "And you are obliged to save three francs a day?" "Yes sir." "Then at your re lease you will have between three and four hundred francs?" " Yes, sir." "What will you do with It?" "Well, sir, you see I am a tailor and I shall start a little business for myself." "Have you ever petitioned for release?" "Oh, no, sir, I am very well here. Out side I could only earn three francs a day and would have to support myself. I could not save a thousand franca in ten years." Little wonder that Prance has a hundred thousand prisoners. Not all, however, are so well paid as this one, but none leave after a five years' resi dence without having a thousand franca and upword for a new start in life. Passing through the office of the Mon selur de Dlrecteur on my way to the hospital I stopped a moment to look at the library. Well as the body Is looked after the wants of the mind get but scant attention. No such collection of useless, worn out, half destroyed books hadl ever seen In a junk store. "What do they want of books?" said the director; "what time have they for reading? On Sunday they can read if they please and if they wish for books they can buy them; besides they have something read to them in the refectory." I had noticed a prisoner sitting In a sort of a pulpit reading aloud while the rest were eating. The book was one of those sickly love novels with the' broadest of allusions which in America would bring the Society of the Prevention of Vice down in fast metre on the seller, but which in France attract no atten tion, and this was about the only lit erature most of them knew anything about during their detention. A Modest Dispensary. At the entrance to the hospital I wag presented to the doctor who, I was in formed, was a baron, M. le Baron la Qrosse. I was afterward told what, however, I soon found for myself, that the doctor was In a small way a char acter. The old gentleman was accom panied by his dog Toby, with whom he was generally believed to consult In difficult cases. However that may be, . the Intimacy was so close that Toby's name had been conferred upon the doc tor who was always spoken of as "le vieux Toby," old Toby, The hospital was one of the dreariest of dreary hab itations. The dispensary looked as though fifty cents would buy all the medicines It contained, and the whole establishment seemed to have the genius of poverty resting heavily upon It. In a ward with walls so blank that one would thank his shadow for some times falling there, were two rows of cots,' most of them occupied. Just as I entered two stalwart prisoners stepped up to one where lay the body of a man who had died an hour before. Not the slightest attention had been paid him. Hla limbs had stiffened In the position in which they lay when death came. His eyes were open and his Jaw had fallen. The two prisoners placed themselves, one at the head, the other at the feet of the corpse and twist ing the ends of the sheet to form a ham mock, the body was lifted like a side of beef on the shoulder of one who car ried it In this manner to the dead house. The next day it would be buried with out the slightest Inquiry the doctor's certificate of death being sufficient In the next bed was lying a man evidently destined soon to follow. "Tou seem . (Continued on page 10.) "an aiauing nun oeuaauai mma Interesting." Jobs W, Maeksy. "Tate book la Aeetlatd to have a siverssl cireuUt1on."-Dr. WaanaU, of the Puk Wagtail Co. JC8TOUT-S00 pages with to fan pate II Inetnttons. Aatotrmph coptee to Bad turn theasttor. Address tit I sekawaaaa IT, sell Hf sftsseripUeft sale. . ii-. '" '