Plans and Illustrations of Prisons and Reformatories — Edition Insights

Economy as a Dominant Design Principle

The excerpts repeatedly stress that “the dominant consideration in the construction of the present prison has been the question of the maximum possible economy in first cost consistent with permanency and the security and welfare of the prisoners.” This phrase, from the Kilby Prison section, encapsulates a recurring theme. Descriptions of buildings emphasize fireproof materials, elimination of “non-essential features,” and the use of open brick and steel structures with cement tile roofs. The power plant, mess hall, and covered walkways are all described in terms of their functional necessity rather than aesthetic ambition. Even the hospital is designed for racial segregation by placing white and colored patients at opposite ends, a detail that reflects the social priorities of the era.

Plans That Anticipate Expansion

Several entries include provisions for future growth. The Kilby Prison description notes that “by the construction of an additional cell house… and by the construction of an additional kitchen and mess hall… the population of the prison may be doubled.” The initial design accommodates 800 prisoners, but by putting six men in cells intended for five, capacity could exceed 900. This flexibility is presented as a practical feature, not a flaw. Similarly, the hospital’s capacity of 32 patients could be increased by extending the surgical and medical wards. The plans are thus not static but designed to adapt to changing needs, a detail that aligns with the catalog subject of design and construction.

The Intersection of Security and Daily Life

Security measures are woven into the fabric of everyday spaces. Windows are “barred and screened”; the mess hall doubles as an auditorium for “speakers and picture shows,” but its steel factory sash and large ventilators are chosen for durability. A covered concrete walk connects the mess hall to the power plant, its “essential purpose” being “to protect prisoners from the rain in going to and from the factories.” The power plant itself is described with technical precision—three 200 H.P. boilers, a radial brick stack 150 feet high—but also as part of a system of tunnels supplying steam, hot water, and electricity to all buildings. These details show how architecture served both control and care.

Readers interested in the history of penal architecture will find this collection a valuable primary source. The plans and notes reveal the practical decisions behind early 20th-century prison design, from material choices to spatial layouts. Because the excerpts are incomplete, the full volume likely contains additional plans and commentary that would deepen this picture. Approach the text as a document of its time, shaped by the priorities of economy, security, and reform.

Leafing through those prison plans, I was struck by how the architects tried to capture something intangible—light, air, a sense of human worth—within such rigid walls. It reminded me of my old copy of Sacred and legendary art, volume 1 (of 2) Containing legends of the angels and archangels, the evangelists, the Apostles, the doctors of the church, and St. Mary — Edition Insights, where the same earnest striving for the divine shows through every homely line. Both keep their eyes fixed on hope.