14/11/25 Fremantle Museums #3: The Old Fremantle Prison

Fresh off our tour of the Round House, we wandered up to the old Fremantle Gaol on the hill behind our flat.

The prison was initially built by and for convicts, but in 1886 became the State Penitentary and new home for our friends from the Round House. Built out of limestone blocks quarried from the ridge on which it stood, it has the distinction of being the best preserved convict built establishment in the country and enjoys World Heritage status. Convict origins aside, the complex was a prison for much of its life and also served as an internment centre during WWII.

Entrance to the prison was and is through a medieval-style gatehouse.

We were led around the prison by a very entertaining guide who was absolutely bursting with interesting anecdotes and stories, many of which I suspect sacrificed fact for the purposes of a gripping narrative. Indeed, at one point she confidently informed us that WA still had the death penalty, something which was easily checked and blatantly false, WA having abolished the death penalty in 1984.

Main cell block with the smaller women's prison on the far left. The big grassed area served as a parade ground and buffer between the prison and the wall.

Applying liberal grains of salt to the tales we heard, we followed her around the complex.

Through the old prison kitchens with remnant of 'modern' industrial cooking equipment.

Past the cook's office, with the utensil wall where knives, cleavers, and other sharp instruments were signed in and out. You had to be a trusted prisoner to work in the kitchen. The hours were long and in summer the kitchen temperature often exceeded 50C, but on the up side you got to eat unlimited prison food. At least, I think that's an up side.

Razor wire still topped the walls in the exercise yard, casting elegant shadow patterns on the stone walls. Throughout its life the prison provided a spectacular absence of heating and cooling. Perched on the hill and exposed to winds roaring in from the ocean, it was freezing cold in winter and stiflingly hot in summer.

The prison originally had water plumbed to cells but the lack of not-yet-invented s-bends resulted in too much smell and these were removed. From then until its closure in 1991 inmates enjoyed the modern sanitation system of a bucket in the corner.

"Empty your bucket in the yard. (And keep the drains free) thank you." Where in the yard, exactly?

Not everyone liked being in prison, and the occasional prisoner saw it as their God given duty to escape. One such prisoner was Moondyne Joe, immortalised in art and poetry on a wall downtown. Born in Wales as Joseph Johns, Moondyne was arrested in 1848 for the crime of stealing 'three loaves of bread, one piece of bacon, several cheeses, and other goods.' He represented himself in court, was convicted, and sentenced to ten years penal servitude. He bounced around a few prisons in England before arriving in Western Australia aboard the prison ship Pyrenees in April 1853. In 1855 he received his ticket of leave and settled down to make an honest living, part of which was trapping escaped animals and returning them to their owner to collect a reward.

Sadly, one of the escaped animals inexplicably took on Moondyne's brand and that got him locked up in the Toodyay lockup from which he promptly broke out, stole the horse, and cut his brand out of its hide to avoid the charge of stealing a horse. Back he went to jail for another sentence, and got his second ticket of leave in 1864. Barely a year later he was accused of killing a steer that belonged to someone else and, despite vociferous protestations of innocence, off he went to jail for another ten years. No sooner was he in a work party than he absconded and was on the lam for a month before being captured and sent to Fremantle Prison.

Things got a bit repetitive after that: Moondyne tried to cut the lock out of his door but was caught. He escaped and formed a little gang of robbers, eventually deciding to walk to Adelaide nd getting caught again after a 300km hike.

Governer John Hamptom was a little bit tired of this, so he organised for a special escape-proof cell and yard for Moondyne, and was on record as saying, rather rashly, "If you get out again I'll forgive you." With that incentive Moondyne bided his time, breaking rocks until he accumulated a pile that hid him from his warder, and then using his pickaxe on the limestone wall of his yard instead. Escape ensued, man hunt followed, Moondyne disappeared and kept his nose clean and out of sight for two years before being captured stealing wine from a winery cellar. He continued further unsuccessful attempts to escape until he told Comptroller General Wakeford about Hampton's words, Wakeford verified the story, they were all gentlemen, and Moondyne was freed. He lived a quiet life thereafter, punctuated by occasional short and involuntary visits back to jail, and died of dementia in 1900.

The moral of the story is if at first you don't succeed, try again. And preferably get a witnessed statement promising clemency if you succeed.

Back to the jail.

Fremantle Prison was not a particularly happy place. In 1998 prisoners rioted, took guards hostage, and lit a fire causing $1.8million damage to the roof of the cell block. Three years later the prison closed and everyone moved to the new Casuarina Prison.

Fremantle Prison had a gallows and was the only lawful place of execution in the state between 1888 and 1984 when the death penalty was abolished. Our guide took us into the gallows room and did her best to tell scary stories and convince people that the ghosts of the departed 43 men and 1 woman executed there still haunted the building.

She would have been better to just be quiet and let the sombreness of the place speak for itself.

We peeked into a few cells,

including one where the inmate was supplied with paints and encoouraged to paint his walls to keep him calm and occupied. The walls bore testimony to a talent that could have gone further were he not a nasty man who deserved to be locked up for deeds too evil to describe here.

In the late afternoon our guide let us out of the big inner gates using an impressive key ring, a nice bit of theatre to finish the tour.

I walked home along the ridge outside the jail, past the cottages and houses where jail staff had lived, all of them backing directly onto the jail wall.

These cottages now form part of the Fremantle Jail Hostel. I wanted to stay there but it didn't have a room conducive to working in, more's the pity.

A few more pictures of the jail...