1910
Odd Place for "Confinement" on Sark, One of the Beautiful Channel Islands
Sark, the loveliest of the channel islands, possesses a quaint old prison of two cells, more as a matter of form than of necessity; for serious crime is almost unknown in the island, which has no paid police, but simply an elected constable. It is some years since the prison was called into requisition, and on the last occasion the bolt was found to be so rusty that it had to be broken before the door could be opened. The prisoner was then put in, left all night with the door open, and made no attempt to escape.
On another occasion a young English servant, who had stolen some clothes, was sentenced to three days' imprisonment. The prospect so terrified her that the authorities took pity on her loneliness and considerately left the cell open. The little maid sat in the doorway and was consoled by kindhearted Sark women, who came to her company.
A still more curious incident is told of a man who was convicted for neglecting his wife and children. He was ordered to betake himself to the prison and there wait for the arrival of the constable. This he did sitting outside until the door was opened to let him in.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Prison Doors Never Locked
Sunday, May 27, 2007
An Unopened Padlock — A Legend of Vienna
1907
Vienna's Strange Relic That Defied the World's Locksmiths
In 1810 a blacksmith went to Vienna and locked an iron band around a tree with a padlock. What he did with the key no one knows to this day. There is a mirthful legend to the effect that he carelessly threw it into the air and that it never came down again. At any rate, the key could not be found, and the Austrian government offered prize of 500 ducats to anyone who could make a key that would turn the bolt in the lock without breaking it.
Many have tried to win the prize, but nobody has won it. Eventually it became the practice among the contestants to drive a nail in the tree and the heads of some of the nails bear the initials of those who drove them. The practice of driving nails into the tree sealed its fate. The lower part of the tree in a few years assumed the appearance of a solid mass of iron. One spring the leaves failed to come out, and later a summer storm blew the top away.
The historic stump was cut off and placed on a pedestal on one of the prominent street corners in Vienna. At the same time the iron band was cut in two and put around the stump to hold it in its niche, leaving the padlock in its original position. And there the old stump stands to this day an object both of the curiosity of tourists and the veneration of the residents of Vienna. Incidentally, a street, Stock im Eisen — "Stick in Iron" — has been named after the stump. — Scrap Book.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Safeguards Against Thieves
1888
A Reformed Burglar Tells Householders How to Protect Their Property
First of all, I may say that the householder, especially if his house is situated in the suburbs, should count as next to nothing the protection afforded by the night policeman on his beat. I don't mean to insinuate that the night policeman neglects his duty. I believe that, as a rule, he performs it as well as he is able to, and it may be pretty safely relied on that at each time he passes a row of villas he will cast the light of his bull's eye over the front garden, if there is one, and over the house front, and the lower windows and street door. If there is no front garden, he will see that all is right and tight in the area as well. But his beat is a long one, and it is probable he will not pass that way again for an hour, or perhaps longer. So that if there is a job afoot all that those engaged in it have to do is to hide and see the policeman off and they then know exactly how much time they have to get through their work before he can make his appearance again.
Speaking from my experience, and from that of others with whom I have been acquainted, I should say that at least a fourth part of the number of private house burglaries that are successfully committed are assisted by servants. But speaking of ordinary work it is the female servants who are made useful and that quite innocently on their part. Masters and mistresses have no idea what easy simpletons many girls in service are, or how easily they are induced to betray the secrets of the house. And not only girls, but women, cooks and housemaids, who are old enough to know better. A smart chap, with plenty to say and with money to spend, has but to scrape acquaintance with the kind of servants I am alluding to when they are out for church on Sunday and meet them a few times afterward, and he can learn all he wants to know respecting the valuable stuff in the house and where it is kept, and the ways and habits of their employers and when they are at home and when away.
It is not often the burglar himself who in this way goes a-fishing for useful information. Generally speaking, he is not what may be called a "ladies' man." He is very well in his own line, but he hasn't got the good looks or the insinuating ways that go down with the fair sex. That part of the programme is intrusted to the "sweetstuff man." He is an affable, well spoken young fellow, very respectably dressed, and so respectable in his manner that even if he was caught in the kitchen with the servants at houses where followers are strictly prohibited his appearance would disarm suspicion.
It should not be forgotten that the burglar has no particular desire in the pursuit of his calling to run his head into more danger than is necessary, and there is nothing that is so much to his liking as parapet work — getting in at attic windows that are screened by the roof parapet. Not one householder in a score gives a thought as to the security of the attic window. He will have the street door iron plated, with a patent lock on it, and a chain strong enough to hold an elephant, but a catch that can be put back with a bradawl is good enough for the attic window, and all the time it is quite as easy to enter by one way as the other — if the houses stand in a row and one of them happens to be empty. This is one of the opportunities the fraternity are always on the lookout for.
Nothing can be easier than to enter an unoccupied house at the basement, and once within all a man has to do is to walk upstairs and go out on to the parapet, and there, well screened from view by the coping, he can creep on his hands and knees, and by means of the attic windows get into any house he has a fancy for. If it is winter time, and after dark, he will have no difficulty in taking stock of the front windows before he makes the accent, and so ascertaining which of the front rooms are occupied or if the family is at dinner. If the latter he can be pretty sure that the servants are all down stairs, and he can explore the upper rooms without much fear of interruption. This wouldn't be called in the profession tip top work, but it is a means by which householders lose a considerable amount of portable property, and it very rarely happens that the robber is caught in the act.
As regards house fastenings there is, in my opinion, nothing safer for windows than a long thumb screw in a socket, going right through the frame and deep into the sash on both sides of the window. I don't know if there have been any wonderful inventions in that way since I took an interest in such things, but I never saw a door fastener except the thumb screw that should give a workman a minute's trouble. For the street door there is nothing so good as a flat bar fastened to a pivot to the center, so that it will extend across the jambs and drop into slots made on the plan of a watch and chain swivel. For window shutters the cheapest and best protection is a lightly hung bell on a coil spring. But better than locks, bolts and bars is a wiry little dog that, roaming loose, will open his pipes and let all the house know it the moment he hears a suspicious noise at door or window. — London Telegraph.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
The Master Key of the Janitor
1903
An Ingenious Invention That Is Open Sesame to All Offices
The loss of a master key by a janitor in a large downtown office building the other day, while occasioning considerable unrest to its former custodian and the tenants of the building, nevertheless performed a useful service by acquainting many persons with the existence of this product of the locksmith's cunning.
The master key is an ingenious invention which is the open sesame often to hundreds of offices each with its own peculiar lock, says the New York Post. Its possession by an unscrupulous person might give him an introduction to the secrets or possessions of every office in the building.
In the present case every lock in the building is being changed, and a correspondingly large number of new keys noticed. The work of fitting out a large building with keys and locks sometimes takes over a month before its successful completion, for locks, in particular, have sensitive natures, and, are often put out of condition by petty disturbances.
The task of manufacturing a master key or pass key is a delicate undertaking, and often is accomplished only after a number of composite wax impressions have been made. The first part of the key to be inserted has no effect on the lock, but simply forces an entrance. The various cuts in the edge then feel their way until one responds to some gateway in the interior of the lock.
It is easy to see how many combinations can be devised by a system of delicate cuttings on the key and of slight changes in the tightening or turning of the lock.