Part 21 (1/2)
”Shake dull sleep from your pillow, Young dreamer arise, On the leaves of the willow The dew-drop still lies, And the mavis is trilling His song from the brake, And with melody filling The wild woods--awake!”
CHAPTER X
Grace Marks
”I dare not think--I cannot pray; To name the name of G.o.d were sin: No grief of mine can wash away The consciousness of guilt within.
The stain of blood is on my hand, The curse of Cain is on my brow;-- I see that ghastly phantom stand Between me and the suns.h.i.+ne now!
That mocking face still haunts my dreams, That blood-shot eye that never sleeps, In night and darkness--oh, it gleams, Like red-hot steel--but never weeps!
And still it bends its burning gaze On mine, till drops of terror start From my hot brow, and h.e.l.l's fierce blaze Is kindled in my brain and heart.
I long for death, yet dare not die, Though life is now a weary curse; But oh, that dread eternity May bring a punishment far worse!”
So much has been written about the city of Kingston, so lately the seat of government, and so remarkable for its fortifications, and the importance it ever must be to the colony as a military depot and place of defence, that it is not my intention to enter into a minute description of it here. I was greatly pleased, as I think every stranger must be, with its general aspect, particularly as seen from the water, in which respect it has a great advantage over Toronto. The number of vessels lying at the different wharfs, and the constant arrival of n.o.ble steamers both from the United States and the Upper and Lower Province, give it a very business-like appearance. Yet, upon landing, you are struck with the want of stir and bustle in the princ.i.p.al thoroughfares, when contrasted with the size and magnitude of the streets.
The removal of the seat of government has checked the growth of Kingston for a while; but you feel, while examining its commanding position, that it must always be the key of the Upper Province, the great rallying point in case of war or danger. The market house is a very fine building, and the wants of the city could be supplied within its area, were it three times the size that it is at present. The market is decidedly one of the chief attractions of the place.
The streets are wide and well paved, and there are a great many fine trees in and about Kingston, which give to it the appearance of a European town. The houses are chiefly of brick and stone along the public thoroughfares, and there are many neat private dwellings inclosed in trim well-kept gardens. The road leading to the Provincial Penitentiary runs parallel with the water, and forms a delightful drive.
It is about three years ago that I paid a visit with my husband to the Penitentiary, and went over every part of it. I must own that I felt a greater curiosity to see the convicts than the prison which contained them, and my wishes were completely gratified, as my husband was detained for several hours on business, and I had a long interval of leisure to examine the workshops, where the convicts were employed at their different trades, their sleeping cells, chapel, and places of punishment. The silence system is maintained here, no conversation being allowed between the prisoners. I was surprised at the neatness, cleanliness, order, and regularity of all the arrangements in the vast building, and still more astonished that forty or fifty strong active looking men, unfettered, with the free use of their limbs, could be controlled by one person, who sat on a tall chair as overseer of each ward. In several instances, particularly in the tailoring and shoemaking department, the overseers were small delicate-looking men; but such is the force of habit, and the want of moral courage which generally accompanies guilt, that a word or a look from these men was sufficient to keep them at work.
The dress of the male convicts was warm and comfortable, though certainly not very elegant, consisting (for it was late in the fall) of a thick woollen jacket, one side of it being brown, the other yellow, with trowsers to correspond, a s.h.i.+rt of coa.r.s.e factory cotton, but very clean, and good stout shoes, and warm knitted woollen socks. The letters P.P. for ”Provincial Penitentiary,” are sewed in coloured cloth upon the dark side of the jacket. Their hair is cut very short to the head, and they wear a cloth cap of the same colours that compose their dress.
The cells are narrow, just wide enough to contain a small bed, a stool, and a wash-bowl, and the prisoners are divided from each other by thick stone walls. They are locked in every night at six o'clock, and their cell is so constructed, that one of the keepers can always look in upon the convict without his being aware of the scrutiny. The bedding was scrupulously clean, and I saw a plain Bible in each cell.
There is a sort of machine resembling a stone coffin, in which mutinous convicts are confined for a given time. They stand in an upright position; and as there are air holes for breathing, the look and name of the thing is more dreadful than the punishment, which cannot be the least painful. I asked the gentleman who showed us over the building, what country sent the most prisoners to the Penitentiary? He smiled, and told me ”guess.” I did so, but was wrong.
”No,” said he; ”we have more French Canadians and men of colour. Then Irish, English, and run-a-way loafers from the States. Of the Scotch we have very few; but they are very bad--the most ungovernable, sullen, and disobedient. When a Scotchman is bad enough to be brought here, he is like Jeremiah's bad figs--only fit for the gallows.”
Mr. Moodie's bailiffs had taken down a young fellow, about twenty years of age, who had been convicted at the a.s.sizes for stealing curious coins from a person who had brought them out to this country as old family relics. The evidence was more circ.u.mstantial than positive, and many persons believed the lad innocent.
He had kept up his spirits bravely on the voyage, and was treated with great kindness by the men who had him in custody; but when once within the ma.s.sy walls of the huge building, his courage seemed to forsake him all at once. We pa.s.sed him as he sat on the bench, while the barber was cutting his hair and shaving off his whiskers. His handsome suit had been removed--he was in the party-coloured dress before described. There was in his face an expression of great anguish, and tears were rolling in quick succession down his cheeks. Poor fellow! I should hardly have known him again, so completely was he humbled by his present position.
Mr. M---y told me that they had some men in the Penitentiary who had returned three different times to it, and had grown so attached to their prison that they preferred being there, well clothed and well fed, to gaining a precarious living elsewhere.
Executions in Canada are so rare, even for murder, that many atrocious criminals are found within these walls--men and women--who could not possibly have escaped the gallows in England.
At twelve o'clock I followed Mr. M--- to the great hall, to see the prisoners dine. The meal consisted of excellent soups, with a portion of the meat which had been boiled in it, potatoes, and brown bread, all very clean and good of their kind. I took a plate of the soup and a piece of the bread, and enjoyed both greatly.
I could not help thinking, while watching these men in their comfortable dresses, taking their wholesome, well-cooked meal, how much better they were fed and lodged than thousands of honest industrious men, who had to maintain large families upon a crust of bread, in the great manufacturing cities at home.
Most of these men had very bad countenances, and I never felt so much convinced of the truth of phrenology as while looking at their heads.
The extraordinary formation, or rather mal-formation, of some of them, led me to think that their possessors were hardly accountable for their actions. One man in particular, who had committed a very atrocious murder, and was confined for life, had a most singular head, such as one, indeed, as I never before saw on a human body. It was immensely large at the base, and appeared perfectly round, while at the crown it rose to a point like a sugar-loaf. He was of a dull, drab-coloured complexion, with large prominent eyes of a pale green colour; his expression, the most repulsively cruel and sinister. The eye involuntarily singled him out among all his comrades, as something too terrible to escape observation.
Among such a number of men, 448, who were there present, I was surprised at seeing so few with red or fair hair. I noticed this to my companion.
He had never observed it before, but said it was strange. The convicts were mostly of a dull grey complexion, large eyed, stolid looking men, or with very black hair, and heavy black brows.
I could only account for this circ.u.mstance from the fact, that though fair-haired people are often violently pa.s.sionate and easily excited, their anger is sudden and quick, never premeditated, but generally the work of the moment. Like straw on a fire, it kindles into a fierce blaze, but it is over in an instant. They seldom retain it, or bear malice. Not so the dull, putty-coloured, sluggish man. He is slow to act, but he broods over a supposed affront or injury, and never forgets it. He plans the moment of retaliation, and stabs his enemy when least prepared. There were many stolid, heavy-looking men in that prison--many with black, jealous, fiery-looking eyes, in whose gloomy depths suspicion and revenge seemed to lurk. Even to look at these men as they pa.s.sed on, seemed to arouse their vindictive feelings, and they scowled disdainfully upon us as they walked on to their respective places.
There was one man among these dark, fierce-looking criminals, who, from his proud carriage and bearing, particularly arrested my attention. I pointed him out to Mr. ---. ”That man has the appearance of an educated person. He looks as if he had been a gentleman.”