old timers in State Prison. Speaking one day in a court-room in New
York on behalf of a man to whom I wanted the Judge to give a chance
and the benefit of doubt in his case, I was told most definitely by
that gentleman that there was absolutely no hope for a man who had been
more than once in State Prison. He said, "Mrs. Booth, you may have
some success with the first offenders, but you can do nothing whatever
with those who have been in prison again and again. They are criminals
born and there is nothing to do for them but to rearrest them and put
them out of harm's way." This discouraging verdict I have heard from
the lips of many prison officers, police officers and authorities on
criminal questions and so has it been impressed upon the men that
they have repeatedly assured me that I was wasting my time upon them.
Can anything be imagined more utterly contradictory to the teaching
concerning the Almighty power of divine grace? Above all should these
be remembered and the greatest hope and most earnest effort be put
forth by those who would take hope to the prisoner.
III
THE VOLUNTEER PRISON LEAGUE
How small a thing may sometimes all unforeseen lead to momentous
results! How often a little turn of the tide which some of us call
chance and others Providence, opens up to us new channels that carry us
into unexpected futures! It was a letter from some of the prisoners in
San Quentin, California, asking me to visit them during my stay in San
Francisco that first led my steps over the threshold of a state prison.
That day left a deep impression on my heart, and what I had seen made
me long for an opportunity practically to help the prisoner.
Never shall I forget the sea of upturned faces, many of them so plainly
bearing the marring imprint of sorrow and sin--despair and misery,--yet
behind the scars and shadows there was such an eager longing,--such a
hungry appeal for a sight of the gleam of Hope's bright star, that one
could but feel an intense inspiration while delivering the message.
Never before had I seen the stripes,--never heard the clang behind me
of the iron gates, nor had I realized the hopelessness that enshrouds
the prisoner. It seemed almost an impertinence for me, coming as I
did from a happy sunlit world, from freedom, friends and home, to
undertake to preach to these into whose lives I had only just entered
and whose thought and feeling I could so poorly interpret. Is it a
wonder that tears rose more readily to my eyes than words to my lips,
and that it was hard for me to control either thoughts or voice? I did
not attempt to preach. Undoubtedly their consciences in many a dark
lonely hour had preached far more pointedly than I could. As far as
possible I tried in that brief hour to carry them away from prison. I
felt it would help them if I could make them forget where they were,
whereas the emphasizing of their position and condition might only
prove embittering. Stories I had gathered from the great fragrant
book of nature, or that had come to me from baby lips, I realized
would touch their hearts more swiftly than the most forcible arguments
or convincing condemnations. The response I read in those upturned
faces--the grateful words that reached me afterwards through the mail
and the constant memory of that scene as I witnessed it lasted with
me deepening into a determination to make their cause mine when the
opportunity should offer.
At that time my husband and I were leaders of the movement known as the
Salvation Army.
It would have been impossible to start prison work under the hampering
influence of regulations which governed that movement from a foreign
land. When our connection with the Salvation Army was finally severed,
we found ourselves free to enter new fields.
I wish to make it very clear, as many are often misled, _that our
movement has nothing to do with the Salvation Army, is in no way
connected with it, and is absolutely dissimilar in method and
government_. This distinction I venture to emphasize in order to avoid
a confusion that has frequently occurred in the past.
I wish to go no further into this subject save to say, that when we
severed our connection with the Salvation Army, it was not the action
of impulse or of disagreement with individuals, but from conscientious
principles and after much anxious thought and earnest prayer. It was
not easy to begin over again and build up a new movement. Starting in
two small rooms in the Bible House, with half-a-dozen workers to help
us, and absolutely no capital or source of income for the work that
opened out before us, the Volunteers had many difficulties to face.
We knew that God's hand was with us, and now, looking back over the
history of the movement during the seven years of its existence, we
have, indeed, much to be thankful for.
Many have come to feel that one of God's purposes in those leadings
that often seem so strange to us was that this new work in the prisons
might be undertaken.
Though this is but one branch of the work of the Volunteers of America,
which has of course many other fields in which much blessed success has
been obtained, yet it is the one which fills perhaps the most needed
gap in the defenses of Christ's Kingdom.
When we designed the new standard of the movement we placed in the
centre of a white field as our emblem the star of hope. I prayed then
that it might in time be known and loved in every prison of our land.
Though I longed from the first to undertake this special work for our
country's prisoners, I did not wish to open the way myself, for with my
whole heart I believe most strongly in Divine guidance and I wished to
be very sure that this was God's work for me.
The Volunteers had only been organized a few weeks when a letter
came from the warden of Sing Sing asking me to speak there. Another
small thing, but it put into my hands the key to the future and came
unsolicited. I felt that it was God's answer to my earnest prayer that
the door might be opened. On the 24th of May, 1896, the initial meeting
was held, and from that place and hour it has grown and widened, until
now the movement has attained national proportions. From Sing Sing the
call came to prison after prison. Sometimes it was a plea sent from
the boys by the chaplain with his request for a visit added in earnest
words. Sometimes it came from a warden who had heard the testimony
of other wardens as to what had been accomplished in their prisons.
The work was opened in the following State Prisons--Sing Sing--Auburn
and Clinton in New York State--Charlestown, Mass.,--Trenton, New
Jersey--San Quentin and Folsom, California--Joliet, Illinois--Columbus,
Ohio--Fort Leavenworth, Kansas--Canon City, Colorado--Anamosa, Iowa,
and Baltimore, Maryland.
The initial meetings have been held also in Lansing, Kansas--Jackson,
Michigan--Fort Madison, Iowa--Weathersfield, Connecticut--Fort
William--Governor's Island, New York. Yet there are many, many other
prisons from which most earnest invitations have come to us, which at
present to our great regret have to be denied for lack of time. Were my
shoulders free from the growing financial burden which has naturally
increased with the development of the work, I could spend infinitely
more time with these who need me so much and could double the good
already accomplished. It is a wide country and the breadth of the field
and urgency of the need often make we wish I could be in twenty places
at once.
In New York State I owe much to the loving and able assistance of my
dear friend, Mrs. E. A. McAlpin. She has won a very warm place in
the hearts of the "boys" and constantly leads my League meetings for
me--spending hours over interviews with the "boys" in the prisons of
New York. I have around me a devoted little band of workers who help
me in the outside work, and yet we all feel this longing for more
time, more means, more strength to fill the great opportunity that
has opened before us. We realize only too keenly that this is but the
small beginning of a great work. Already we are in touch with some
twenty-four thousand men within the walls, and with a growing number
who are now in the hard struggle to honorably maintain their regained
freedom.
We did not commence the enterprise with any preconceived ideas, plans
or hobbies of our own to work out. We believed that to be successful
the work must be of natural growth, developing with circumstances. To
plan your methods out in study or committee room and then to try to
bend the circumstances to your well laid track, will almost invariably
mean failure. All the plans and measures of the present organization
have been worked out in prison, and that which I know of the problems I
have learned from the "boys" themselves.
From the very first I realized that to make the work effectual there
must be the establishment of personal friendship, and that it was only
as we recognized and helped the individual that we could by degrees
affect the whole population. They needed friendship and the touch of
human sympathy far more than preachment or argument. To thus help
them practically we had of course to know the men that we might enter
as much as possible into their lives, so that we could meet them on
a more intimate footing than that of lecturer and audience--preacher
and congregation. The only way in which one can really understand a
man's life is to meet him on the level. We commenced with the chapel
services, talking to the men collectively in a strain that would
make them feel and realize the faith and hope we felt for them. Then
I expressed my willingness to correspond with all those who had no
friends to write to. The many letters which reached me as a consequence
soon gave us an insight into the thoughts and feelings of the men and
we were then able to become familiar with the names and histories of
many of them. After this we could follow up our correspondence with
personal interviews. It was wonderful how the hearts of the men were
touched and opened to us. In no field have I found a quicker and deeper
response to the message delivered, and there has certainly been
time now to prove that it was not a mere passing emotion or revival
enthusiasm, but that a deep and lasting work was being accomplished.
As men began to take the decisive step and declared their intention to
lead a different life it became evident that organization would be wise
to band them together and to enable them to show their colors in a way
that would strengthen and safeguard them, helping them to be a constant
example to others. To meet this need we started the V.P.L. or VOLUNTEER
PRISON LEAGUE. It is a very simple banding together in each prison of
those who stand for right living and good discipline. Each member has a
certificate of membership which reads as follows:
"This is to certify that ---- is a member of the Volunteer Prison League
having faithfully promised with God's help to conform to the following
conditions of membership:
First--to pray every morning and night.
Second--to read the Day Book faithfully.
Third--to refrain from the use of bad language.
Fourth--to be faithful in the observance of prison rules and discipline
so as to become an example of good conduct.
Fifth--to earnestly seek to cheer and encourage others in well-doing
and right living, trying where it is possible to make new members of
the League."
This document is hung in the prison cell and as the man pins on his
coat the badge of the order, a small white button with the blue star in
its centre and the motto of our League in red lettering--"Look up and
Hope"--he becomes at once a marked man. He is watched by officers and
men alike and that very fact is in itself a reminder to him in the hour
of temptation of the obligations he has taken upon himself. When the
League has attained some size it becomes a post and the white standard
is presented. Their loving loyalty to the flag is very clearly seen
among the men by the way in which they earnestly try to live up to the
principles it represents. Often in my letters I read such sentiments
as this--"Little Mother, as I entered the chapel Sunday and looked at
our white flag, I thought again of the promises I had made, of all they
ought to mean, and I promised God that with His help I would never
disgrace it. No one shall see anything in my life that could bring
dishonor or stain to its whiteness."
Naturally there is quite a bond of union among these League men and
it exists not between those in the one prison alone, but is a link of
prayer and fellowship, and sometimes almost produces healthy rivalry
between prison and prison as each Post wishes to keep the best record.
The thought that has made this League a strong foundation for the work
and that has proved the most rousing inspiration to the men is that the
work is not ours but theirs. No philanthropist, preacher or teacher in
the world can reform these men. An influence from without may prove
very helpful but it is from within that the true reform movement must
start. The whole key of this great question, the real solution of the
problem lies within the prisons. It rests with the men themselves. We
can bring them hope, can help them with our sympathy, can stimulate
their ambition and effort, but they must "work out their own
salvation." In the League they are made to realize this very keenly;
the responsibility is rolled back upon their own shoulders. They cease
to think that people must pick them out from their difficulties or
that some turn of fortune's wheel must come to place them in happier
circumstances, before they can become truly honest and upright. They
realize that they must fight their own battle,--commence to rebuild
their character, wresting from adverse circumstances every good lesson
and using every chance they can gain to raise themselves from the pit
into which they have fallen. Of course we lay the greatest stress on
the need of Divine help. We know from repeated experiences that the
"boys" must be transformed in heart and nature by the spirit of God if
they are to be truly successful, but we believe that God helps the man
whom He sees willing and anxious to help himself. Nowhere in the Bible
do we find that people can drift lazily into the kingdom of heaven.
Christian life must be an earnest warfare of watchful struggle in which
every faculty of the man is sincerely engaged. Since the starting of
the League we have enrolled nearly fourteen thousand men within prison
walls. We have found their interest in the work intense, and as news
of it has spread from prison to prison even before our coming to them,
the "boys" have learned to look upon it as their special work and have
longingly waited to welcome that which they have come to feel will mean
the dawning of a new hope for the future. To try and convey to you
something of this feeling of possession on the part of the men that
have prepared our way in prison after prison, I turn back to an old
diary of mine and quote from its pages the notes on the opening of our
work at Dannemora--November 22d, 1896.
"It was a dark, windy night, heavy snow clouds had gathered and dark
shadows lay around the prison wall. Long rows of electric lights
gleamed steadily through the gloom and the absolute stillness was
unbroken. Right there by my window I knelt and prayed for the many
we should soon see and learn to know; prayed that the 22d of November
might be as memorable a day as the 24th of May, the 27th of September,
the 17th of October and other red letter days in prison which I might
mention.
All through that night the snow fell and Dannemora presented a pretty
winter scene when we looked out of our windows Sunday morning. Clouds
were still in the sky, but streaks of silver light and pale primrose
tints behind the mountain range and patches of blue here and there
showed that fair weather was triumphing. The icicles hung in long,
glittering fringes from the roofs of the prison buildings and the crust
of the snow in the prison yard gleamed with frost brilliants. As the
hour of service approached we entered the prison and waited in the
warden's office until the word came that all was ready.
How can I describe what followed and the sight that greeted me? Loving
hands had for four weeks been decorating the chapel. Two thousand yards
of evergreen trimming was wreathed and festooned on pillars and walls.
Flags, shields, mottoes had been beautifully draped and designed and
the blending of the national colors with the Volunteer standard was
graceful and effective. Over the door through which I entered was the
word "welcome" surmounted by an eagle on a drapery of the two flags. As
we passed up the aisle escorted by the warden, the chapel was packed,
all the "boys" being present, save those who had charge of the boilers,
and the men in the condemned cells.
The audience was very still as I entered, but the moment I mounted the
flower-decked platform they burst into an enthusiastic welcome. What
a sight it was, that great sea of eager faces, amid the setting of
colors and greenery! I wish I could give you a picture of the chapel as
I saw it, but you must paint it in your own mind and when I tell you
it was the most beautifully decorated building I have been in, you can
realize how much loving thought and toil it represented. Is it a wonder
my heart was deeply touched? Who was I, to receive such marks of love
and honor? A stranger to all but three in that community, and yet they
opened their hearts to me as their friend, even before they had heard
my voice. I think they had learned already that I loved them, that I
believed in a future of hope for them and that God had formed a bond of
understanding and sympathy between us.
I cannot describe the meeting. The band played superbly, the singing
was hearty, the interest and enthusiasm were intense, and to me the
faces of my audience with their ever changing expressions were a
perfect inspiration. Then came the solemn closing minutes. Tears had
flowed freely, hearts had been moved by the influence of God's own
Spirit and now a hush seemed to fall and one could feel and see the
struggle going on in many hearts.
Clearly and definitely understanding all that it meant, one after
another arose. It was all I could do to control my feelings. The
chaplain was in tears: many of the officers were weeping, and, with
bowed heads, men were rising all over the place, until eighty-seven
stood in God's presence, seeking the light and cleansing and liberty
that He alone can give.
God was there. We could feel His presence, and the light came down
and shone on some of those tear stained faces until they were almost
transfigured.
When all was over, they had gone back to their cells, and I stood at
the window of my room looking out at the snow, over which now the sun
shone, my heart was very thankful, and the words seem to come to my
mind with new force "though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as
white as snow"; and looking up at the sky, where the sun had triumphed
and chased away the clouds, the blessed promise "I have blotted out as
a thick cloud thy transgressions and as a cloud thy sins," came to my
heart with a fresh wave of comfort.
The afternoon was a busy one with interviews, and in the evening I was
again fully occupied. What a glorious night that was! The brilliant
moon smiled down upon the snow-clad country making it glitter with
a myriad frost diamonds. As we looked out upon the prison buildings
from our windows, it was a very different scene from the night before.
Everything looked so bright, so pure, so peaceful. The dark shadows,
the heavy clouds, the fitful wind had given place to calm and silver
light. So I think in some of the hearts that were that night speaking
to God within those prison walls peace and light had triumphed, and
the shadows and gloom had fled away. I sometimes wonder if my friends
realize that I am thinking of them. I wonder if they know how near I am
to them in heart and thought all the time I am at the prison.
I had intended to leave early Monday morning, but the warden persuaded
me to remain over and take the night train. The whole day was spent
in interviews, which kept me right up to the moment the carriage was
at the door and I had to tear myself away. This enabled me to have a
little personal talk with seventy-six men.
I was very much touched by a mark of appreciation of our work shown
by a number of the men who subscribed nearly one hundred dollars out
of the money they had on deposit towards our Hope Hall fund. Does
not this show how truly they appreciate our plans and schemes and
efforts for their future? I think this should make the fortunate and
wealthy outside the prison eager to follow their example in generous
and loving sympathy with the good work. The officers of the prison
among themselves subscribed fifty-five dollars as a testimony of their
indorsement of the movement.
From men all over the country, in prisons not yet visited, comes the
plea to go to them and my heart longs to answer it, but so far we have
had to go slowly.
I was visiting recently for the first time a new prison, and was much
touched by a remark made by one of the men to the chaplain. He is
serving a life term and has proved himself to be an earnest Christian.
Meeting the chaplain the day before my expected visit he said,
"Chaplain, when there is some special request I have made in prayer, I
write it down and when the answer comes, I put O.K. against the prayer.
To-day I can do that again, for I have prayed so long that the Little
Mother might come to us, and at last my prayer is answered." Is it a
wonder that my heart turns longingly to the great wide field where the
harvest awaits us, to the many whose call to us is as clear as ever
the Macedonian call could be from heathen lands?
Alas, all too much of my time has to be filled with money-raising
lectures, so that long lecture-trips for this purpose keep me from the
work where I know I could do so much to cheer and comfort these waiting
hearts.
We do not want our labors in the prisons to be a mere evangelizing
effort, but we wish to establish a permanent work, and hence of course
we have had to move slowly. On the other hand the effect has been
much more lasting. How much it has meant of cheer and sunshine to the
men, can only be realized as we gather from day to day the news that
comes to us from all over the country. It must be remembered how shut
off these men are from friendship, from the world, from all matters
of interest that can carry them out of their dull, dreary routine in
cell and workshop life, to understand what this link with the outer
world has proved to many of them. We send to each prison a large
number of _Volunteers' Gazettes_, the official organ of our movement
and its pages are read with deepest interest giving, as they do, news
of progress of each prison League, and also constant reports of the
successes of men once their fellow-prisoners, who are now living free
and honest lives in the path that lies before them also. They look
forward intensely to their League meetings. The whole tendency of the
work is to stir up a new interest in life.
When one thinks of the men who are incarcerated for a lifetime, many
of whom have perhaps outlived all ties of friendship and relationship,
one can gain some idea of the help it proves to them in enduring their
position, to realize that they belong to something and some one, and
can still look for bright spots in the monotony of prison life.