146 Basil Hall's Account of the Penitentiary 



of which contains orifices smaller than a man's hand. 

 Through this gate a sufficient supply of air is admitted, and 

 as much light and heat as are necessary. The ventilation is 

 made complete by a sort of chimney or air-pipe, three inches 

 in diameter, which extends from the upper part of each of the 

 apartments to the roof of the building. These cells, or 

 sleeping births, are placed in rows of one hundred in each, 

 one above another, and in appearance by no means unlike 

 wine bins in a cellar, only deeper, wider, and twice as high- 

 Each tier has in front of it a narrow gallery just wide enough 

 for one man to pass, and connected at the ends with a stair- 

 case. The prison at Sing Sing when completed, which it 

 probably is by this time (1829), will contain eight hundred 

 cells, four hundred of which are on the side facing the river, 

 and a like number on the side next the land. The block or 

 mass of building, formed of these two sets of cells placed back 

 to back, may be compared to a long, high, and straight wall., 

 twenty feet thick, perforated on both sides with four parallel 

 and horizontal ranges of square holes. This again is encased 

 on all sides by an external building, the walls of which are at 

 ten feet distance from those of the inner work, or honeycomb 

 of cells. These outer walls are pierced with rows of sm^ 

 windows, one being opposite to each door, and so adjusted as 

 to afford abundant light and fresh air, but no means of seeing 

 out. Stoves and lamps are placed along the area or open 

 space between the external wall and the inner building, to 

 afford heat in winter, and light to the galleries after sunset. 



As soon as the prisoners are locked up for the night, each 

 in his separate cell, a watchman takes his station on the 

 ground floor abreast of the lower tier, or if he thinks fit he 

 may walk along the galleries past the line of doors. His feet 

 being shod with mocasins, his tread is not heard, while he 

 himself can hear the faintest attempt at communication made 

 by one prisoner to another ; for the space in front of the 

 cells seems to be a sort of whispering or sounding gallery, of 

 which fact I satisfied myself by actual experiment, though I 

 do not very well know the cause. In this way the convicts 

 are compelled to pass the night in solitude and silence ; and 

 I do not remember in my life to have met before with any 

 thing so peculiarly solemn as the death-like silence which 

 reigned, even at noon-day, in one of these prisons, though I 

 knew that many hundreds of people were close to me. At 

 night the degree of silence was really oppressive ; and like 

 many other parts of this curious establishment must be 

 witnessed in person to be duly understood. 



The convicts are awakened at sunrise by a bell ; but before 

 they are let out, the clergyman of the establishment reads a 

 prayer from a station so chosen, that without effort he can 



