56 inmates are guests of State in open prison in Vale of Avoca

ABOUT 45 miles down the Wexford road from Dublin, just before the town of Arklow, a turn to the right leads deep into the Vale…

ABOUT 45 miles down the Wexford road from Dublin, just before the town of Arklow, a turn to the right leads deep into the Vale of Avoca. The road follows the river, dips and climbs for a couple of miles, and before the crest of a hill another turn to the left leads down deeper into a wooded valley.

It seems to get darker as the woods thicken, then suddenly there is a fence with an open gate, and a drive which leads up to a large Gothic revival abbey, with pinnacles and a small tower. Set in carefully trimmed lawns and with an ornamental garden, it looks like an expensive country hotel. But this is Shelton Abbey and its 56 inhabitants are guests of the nation.

Shelton is one of the State's three `open' prisons (the others are Shanganagh and Loughan House), and it is worthy of the name. The chain link fence surrounding the 25 acre demesne is about seven feet high, and of the type more usually seen around a tennis court. Why is it there at all? "It's to keep people out," says assistant governor Mick Houlihan. "You couldn't have the public walking through here, they'll treat it like a type of a zoo.

Shelton is for first time offenders, people serving short sentences for relatively minor crimes such as car theft and burglary, and for long term prisoners nearing the end of their seatences, who are being prepared for their release into the community.

READ MORE

The original building at Shelton dates from 1770. It was home to the Earls of Wicklow, and briefly a hotel in the 1940s, before the Department of Justice opened it as a prison in 1972.

This was the latest in the Department of Justice `open days' allowing media access to prisons. The governor, Martin Corngan, was well aware that his institution contrasts with other jails.

"But it's no holiday camp," he said. "The people here are still deprived of their liberty, they are away from their families, they're still in prison."

There is a lawn tennis court, a soccer pitch and a nine hole pitch and putt course. "Why shouldn't we have them?" asks Corrigan. "This place was all overgrown when the Department of Justice took it over. All the work on the facilities outside was done by the prisoners and they are maintained by the prisoners."

Inside is a snooker room with full size table and two pool tables, two television rooms, and a fully equipped gym. There are 13 bedrooms, with four or six beds in each.

Prisoners are required to work during the day, in the building or at a nearby farm where they grow their own vegetables, or out in the surrounding area. They are allowed recreation from about 5 p.m. late into the evening, and can also sign up for school academic subjects as well as woodwork, art and music. The chief rules are "no drugs and no alcohol", says Corrigan. Random urine tests check for drugs and anyone detected is sent to another prison. The only seizures have been small amounts of cannabis.

A staff of about 40, includes teachers, maintenance personnel and eight prison staff, who do not wear uniform.

Frank, convicted of murder 13 years ago, is waiting for the results of his latest sentence review. After Mountjoy, Arbour Hill, Wheatfield and Cork prisons, Shelton - with its rambling grounds and open gate - is certainly a contrast.

"It sometimes takes a lot of resolve not to keep walking," he says.

About 30 a year do keep walking, according to the governor. The two staff on night duty carry out random checks of beds, and there is a check around the building every half hour during the day.

Shelton has taken in its share of celebrity clients, including one lawyer and former newspaper company director, who today prefers not to deal with the press. But the best known occupant is Jimmy Ennis, now in his mid60s, and convicted of murder in 1964. Staff have been attempting to release him since 1982, but he is never satisfied with conditions' outside and is the State's longest serving prisoner.

"I'd say it's easygoing here," he says. He works in gardens around Arklow. He promises to leave "if a suitable place comes up, but I'm not pushed. I'm happy enough with the situation."