There was a time when jailers were looking for customers and offered cells to weary travellers. I have been re-reading A Time of Gifts which is an account of a walk across Europe in the early 1930s by the 18 year old Patrick Fermor. Not long into his journey on a winter night in Holland he found refuge in such an accommodation. Here is his account:“I must have made a late start from Dordrecht: Sliedrecht, my next halting place, is only a few miles on, and Gorinchem, the next after that, is not much more. Some old walls stick in my memory, cobbled streets and a barbican and barges moored along the river, but clearest of all, the town lock-up. Somebody had told me that humble travellers in Holland could doss down in police stations, and it was true. A constable showed me to a cell without a word, and I slept, rugged up to the ears, on a wooden plank hinged to the wall and secured on two chains under a forest of raffish murals and graffiti. They even gave me a bowl of coffee and quarter of a loaf before I set off. Thank God I had put ‘student’ in my passport: it was an amulet and an Open Sesame. In European tradition, the word suggested a youthful, needy, and earnest figure, spurred along the highways of the West by a thirst for learning--thus, notwithstanding high spirits and a proneness to dog-Latin drinking songs, a fit candidate for succor.” A Time of Gifts, p. 25.
That reminded me of another account of jails described as hostels for travellers, which provides an example found closer to home, if further back in time. In the late 1890s, a tramp and his companions jumped from a train in a small town in Michigan and one of them said they needed to locate the marshal.“We had been here some fifteen minutes, when we saw the marshal coming down the road leading to the station, the bright star of his authority being seen distinctly on his breast. “Now,” said Brum, “let me be the spokesman, and I will arrange for a month’s comfort.” By this time the marshall stood before us. “Boys,” he began, “cold weather for traveling, eh?”....You would certainly be better off in jail. Sixty days in our jail, which is considered one of the best, if not the best, in Michigan, would do you know harm, I assure you.” “As for that,” said Brum, “we might take thirty days each, providing of course, that you make it worth while. What about tobacco and a drink or two of whisky?” “That’ll be all right,” said the marshal, “here’s half a dollar for a drink, and the sheriff will supply your tobacco.” “No, no,” objected Brun, “give us a dollar and three cakes of tobacco, and we will take thirty days, and remember, not a day over.” The marshall produced the three cakes of tobacco, seeming well prepared for these demands, and giving us a paper dollar, requested us to go to Donovan’s saloon, which we would find in the main street, where he would see us later in the day, “when of course,” he added winking you will be supposed to be just a bit merry?
“What is the meaning of this?” I asked Brum, as we went our way to Mr. Donovan’s saloon. “It simply means this,” he said, “that the marshall gets a dollar for each arrest he makes - in our case three dollars [another bum had joined them]; the judge receives three or four dollars for every conviction, and the sheriff of the day is paid a dollar a day for boarding each prisoner under his charge; we benefit by a good rest, warmth, good food and plenty of sleep, and the innocent citizens have to pay for it all.”
They showed up appearing to be suitably drunk and were arrested by the sheriff and, the next day, were sentenced to thirty days. The chapter in which this is found is suitably titled: "Chapter 8: A Prisoner His Own Judge." p.50
They travelled from Michigan into Ontario and apparently jailers here were welcoming as well. They did experience some difficulty on one occasion. “One night we arrived at a small town where a double hanging was to take place in the yard of the jail early in the next morning. A woman, it seems, had called on her lover to assist in the murder of her husband, which had been brutally done with an axe, for which crime both had been pronounced guilty and condemned to die. Thousands of people had flocked in from the neighbouring country, which in this province of Ontario was thickly settled, and a large number of plain clothes detectives had been dispatched from the cities, there being supposed that some attempt might be made at rescue, owing to one of the condemned being a woman.” p.135.
After some negotiating, they were given a cell. The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp.
If you think you would find such accommodations appealing, here is a list of jails in which you can stay. Be warned that most are swanky and pricey. You can begin in our nation’s capital and reserve a spot at the HI Ottawa Jail where you can “Hunker down among stone walls and iron doors, or even sleep in your own solitary confinement cell. You're free to leave when you want, and the Parliament Buildings, Byward Market and National Gallery of Canada are all within walking distance.” That is the entrance above.
For you more adventurous travellers here are 9 more:
1. Langholmen Hotell, Stockholm, Sweden
Located in Stockholm's Sodermalm neighbourhood, Långholmen Hotell is near a metro station and near the beach. Royal Swedish Opera and Vasa Museum are cultural highlights, and travellers looking to shop may want to visit Mall of Scandinavia and Sollentuna Centrum.
2. Het Arresthuis, the Netherlands
Situated in a former detention centre in the historic centre of Roermond, Het Arresthuis offers luxurious rooms with free WiFi and a flat-screen TV. Facilities include a sauna and a gym.
3. The Liberty, Boston, USA
Each of the 298 rooms and suites at The Liberty, a Luxury Collection Hotel, has been painstakingly renovated to maintain the historic nature of our landmark building. Inspired by the hotel’s location, Boston, Massachusetts’ former Charles Street Jail, our accommodations feature playful nods to the hotel’s infamous past. But don’t worry, these days, the doors lock from the inside only. But with rooms this luxurious, we can’t guarantee that you’ll ever want to leave.
4. Clink78, London
Clink78 is centrally located just 10 minutes' walk from King's Cross Tube Station and St Pancras International Station.
5. Alcatraz Hotel, Kaiserslautern, Gemany
This fascinating new hotel is a converted prison, offering both cell-style and conventional rooms. It is located near the Japanese Garden in the centre of Kaiserslautern, at the edge of the Pfälzer Wald forest.
6. Hotel Katajanokka, Helsinki, Finland
A unique hotel where chic design, uncompromised comfort and personal service meet in a historic former prison setting – a short walk from the city.
8. Malmaison Oxford, UK
Welcome to Malmaison Oxford, a boutique hotel in Oxford city centre with 95 richly appointed rooms and suites that are packed with some of the best creature comforts that come to mind. Housed in a former prison, the rooms in our Oxford hotel are rather more spacious than your average jail cell and come complete with luxurious beds, super-fast Wi-Fi and power showers.
9. Q Station in Sydney
Tread the path of Haunted Souls..
Sydney's Quarantine Station on North Head is one of Australia's most haunted sites!
As darkness descends over Q Station’s historic buildings, the burial ground and empty pathways… the time comes to encounter the ghosts of our site.
I did not put in links to the hotel sites, but they are easily found.
Sources:
Both A Time of Gifts and The Autobiography are highly recommended.
There are now many articles about over-incarceration, the one about the New Yorkers is from: "There's A Strong Case for Sticking With Bail Reform," Emily Bazelon and Insha Rahman, NYT, Jan. 24, 2020.
For prison data see: WPB: World Prison Brief.
For prison data see: WPB: World Prison Brief.
Post Script:
The Autobiography of a Super-Tramp is old enough to be freely electronically available. I suggest, however, that you get The Neversink Library edition pictured above since it has a good introduction by George Bernard Shaw who suggests: "All I have to say by way of recommendation of the book is that I have read it through from beginning to end, and would have read more of it had there been any more to read."
Apart from being talented, Davies was a tough old tramp. On a snowy night when attempting to catch a train to Pembroke, he missed the hand of his companion (probably because it belonged to "Three Fingered Jack) and fell under the train and lost his leg. He was found in the snow and taken to the station: A number of people were still there; so that when I was placed in the waiting room to bide the arrival of a doctor, I could see no other way of keeping a calm face before such a number of eyes than by taking out my pipe and smoking, an action which, I am told, caused much sensation in the local press."
Here is what GBS has to say about the event: "Were not the author an approved poet of remarkable sensibility and delicacy I should put down the extraordinary quietness of his narrative to a monstrous callousness. Even as it is, I ask myself with some indignation whether a man should lose a limb with no more to-do than a lobster loses a claw or a lizard his tail, as if he could grow a new one at his next halting place! If such a thing happened to me, I should begin the chapter describing it with "I now come to the event which altered the whole course of my life, and, blighted etc., etc.,"
The chapter which contains this episode bears the title " A Voice in the Dark", which is referring to the voice of the injured author and the fact that one man heard it and did not come to help. Davies does drop out of the "Gold Rush" and returns to England where he began to write about his experiences.
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