London's Prisons in 1900: Police Station Cells
Arthur H. Beavan continued his survey of London's Prisons in Imperial London, published in 1901, with a look at Police Station Cells:
Unoccupied police station cells always give strangers the impression that they
have just been scrubbed with soft-soap from floor to ceiling; certainly, no places
can be more scrupulously cleaned.
The space is limited; and so are the appointments, which are confined to the
barest necessaries of civilized life.
Except at such times when an abnormal number of "suspects" have been
"run in," each cell contains but one occupant.
The women, so say the experienced officers at Bow Street, give the most trouble,
especially those charged with drunkenness.
They often make use of the vilest language, and their callousness is remarkable;
many of them seem to take their punishment as a matter of course, and pass from
their cells - which are in a different part of the police-station from those of
the men - into "Black Maria," as to the manner born.
Spirits, tobacco, etc, are strictly forbidden to be conveyed to the prisoners
by their friends, but the artfulness of the old hands frequently dodges this mandate.
After a visit from some relative or chum, it is not uncommon for a lump of
cake tobacco, or a bottle of rum, to be found; the first sticking to the bottom
of a can of hot coffee, the latter hidden from sight in the coffee itself.
Even a thick slice of bread-and-butter is not always the innocent kind of nourishment
it would appear to be, tobacco, matches, and even pipes sometimes being concealed
within.
The recipient of a home-baked loaf was observed to have left it uneaten, and
the officials, marvelling, discovered that a lump of tobacco had been actually
kneaded-up with the dough, and passed through the oven!
Next: London's Prisons in 1900: Mansion House Cells |