when questions of the deepest moment are discussed and opinions
exchanged. The papers read, ideas advanced, and interest manifested,
should prove to the onlooker that these men are not contented to run
in a prescribed groove, but that advanced ideas and radical changes
are being most strongly advocated. My personal experience has made me
admire the deep interest and earnest efforts of the wardens whom I
have come to know, but I have often wondered if the public understands
how much their work is often hindered and thwarted by politics. Many
expenditures that the warden sees are necessary for the improvement of
his prison, have to wait, despite his urgent plea, because it is well
nigh impossible to get sufficient appropriations in some of our states
for the prisons. Money spent by the state on the criminal population,
is looked upon by many as an extravagance. It would be found easier to
get half a million dollars for the beautifying of some state building,
than ten thousand for the improving of the sanitary condition of a
prison cell house. Yet in the long run the latter expenditure might
prove a tremendous saving to the state.
Then in every state throughout the country, the appointment not only
of our wardens but of all officers in minor positions in the prisons
should be taken out of politics. I have seen splendid, able men in
charge thrown out because of a political change in the state. They
had put their heart and soul into their work, and through years of
experience had made themselves familiar with the needs and difficulties
of their position. They were in the midst of much needed changes,
when they had to step out, and turn over the reins of government to
some new man, who however good, and able a citizen, was absolutely
new to the conditions in state prison, and would have to begin at the
beginning and learn it all over again. I believe that this in the past
has retarded much good work at prison reform. Then again in some of
our prisons the wardens have been terribly handicapped by the class of
men whom they have had under them as officers. In many instances these
men have been ignorant and utterly unsuitable for the handling of the
prisoners. Good work that the warden might accomplish has been thwarted
by them, and yet he has had his hands tied, having neither the power to
dismiss them, nor to choose and appoint others.
In some states these unfortunate circumstances have been corrected and
in one or two, political influence has no control in prison affairs.
The prison officer who is able and efficient and who advances the best
interests of the men should be retained and valued, and only the one
who proves unfit should be removed. It is the interest, the reform,
the health, the usefulness of the prisoners, that should have first
consideration. What right has a governor to sacrifice them to please a
party or a man who worked for his election. A thousand, two thousand
or perhaps three thousand helpless human beings, for whom the state is
responsible, are at stake. We cannot disregard this fact.
The appointment of chaplain has also been political in some states.
What a travesty on the sacred office! There can be but one standard by
which to choose the spiritual adviser of these souls in darkness. They
need the most spiritual, consecrated, self-sacrificing, hard-working
pastor who can be found, and any other would do more harm than good.
Above all, both chaplains and wardens must be men who believe in
the possibility of the reformation of those under their charge. The
prisoner is very quick to discern the pessimistic attitude of others.
No one can do satisfactory or effectual work who does not truly believe
that it will be successful, or at least that there will be something to
show for it.
Picking up an English book on the prisons of the old world I read the
following sentence, "The governor of Portland Convict Prison said
to me one day, I have only known two cases of real reformation in
thirty-five years." What a ghastly confession of unfitness for duty!
What are our prisons for, if not for reform? Is this vast expenditure
by the country for its police and detectives, its courts of justice,
its prisons and prison officials, to be thrown away so far as the vast
army of prisoners is concerned?
Most assuredly not in this age of civilization, and I am confident
no warden in this country would ever give voice to so self-accusing
a statement. If he did, however, he would have his fellow-wardens
to reckon with, and after them the great public would cry shame on
him, and I venture to say that the resignation of such a man would be
demanded at very short notice. There is a pitiable side to this for
the man himself. What has he to show for thirty-five years of service?
A prison well guarded, men kept in their hideous bondage without
dangerous mutiny, going like machines through the given routine of
hard labor, bodies clothed and fed with only the average death rate,
but no poor soul bettered or made more fit to live in freedom or face
death happily. That statement can be taken as the representation of the
old idea which was created with the old system, from which sprang the
abuses that were only to brand, intimidate and degrade the man, who
being beyond reform was to be kept in check by breaking his spirit,
and keeping him as far as possible in a position in which he could do
the least possible harm to the community.
Not so long ago many of the branding and degrading ideas were in
existence even in this country. I can remember the time when men were
hung up by their wrists for hours in torture for some infringement of
prison discipline. The lock-step was at one time to be found in all our
prisons, the short hair cut and the hideous stripes were universal. In
prison after prison now the lock-step is being abolished, and a manly
military march takes its place. Within the next few years it will in
all probability pass out forever.
In many prisons the stripes have been replaced by a neat gray or blue
uniform, and they are worn only by men who have been refractory or
attempted to escape. While we have the right to punish the wrong-doer,
and it is only justice to himself as well as to the community to do so,
we have no right to brand him. Anything that tends to mark a man or
that will send him out into the world incapacitated to take his place
among the free again, is a cruel wrong and should be abolished.
In speaking of their doubt and distrust of the man who has come from
prison, people have quoted to me the unfavorable impression that has
been made upon them by the manner, the bearing, the very speech of
recently discharged men with whom they have come into contact. They
have repeatedly said to me that the shuffling uncertain gait, the head
hung down, the shifty look in the eye, and the fact that he can hardly
give a straight clear statement of what he needs, have all gone to rob
him of confidence, and people have turned away merely to say, "I could
not think of employing such a one." Alas, in the past, that picture has
been only too true of many a long termed man in the first days after
his discharge from prison. But what has made him so? The world says a
guilty conscience, a shiftless unstable character; he merely shows what
he is, a criminal born! No! I answer he is a criminal, branded, and in
his poor crushed body and hopeless mind, he carries the cruel marks for
which God Almighty will demand justice in the great reckoning day. A
thoughtless world quick to condemn and damn the one who has fallen, a
brutal system that drove and lashed instead of helped and raised the
one in servitude, will be held responsible for the shattered minds and
ruined bodies that can be found amid the driftwood in the great under
world.
Do you know what the lock-step is and does? The shuffling column of
men is not allowed to step or march with a soldierly swing, but is so
near together that the arms of one man rest on the shoulder of the one
in front of him, and they walk with the feet interlocked, so that each
step must be a sliding shuffle. Let a man walk thus during the years
of his imprisonment, and there is not a detective or police officer,
who could not pick him out in the city throng, however well he might be
dressed. People complain of the shifty eye, the downward glance of the
man who they say betrays by it the fact that he cannot look the world
in the face. Are we not taught that habit is second nature, and what
is the habit in which these men have been drilled for years in some
of our prisons? They are forbidden to look up from their work in the
workshops should any one pass through the room. If any one meets them
in the prison corridor or in the yard they are to keep their eyes down,
or, worse still, to turn their faces to the wall. Take an innocent man
and drill him on pain of punishment by this rule, and on his discharge
he would unconsciously do the same thing whenever accosted, and hence
very probably give the impression of insincerity. Then what of speech?
Many men to whom I talk in prison or on the days subsequent to their
discharge, stutter and stammer helplessly, becoming sometimes painfully
embarrassed, as they try to explain themselves. What is that but the
result of long silence? I do not argue that it would be wise or
possible for these men to be allowed to talk freely in work shop or in
cell house, but I know prisons in which talking is permitted during
recreation in the yard, and I do believe that the outside world is
unfair in drawing conclusions from an affliction brought about by the
silence system.
All these things should be remembered when we stand in judgment on the
man returned from years of confinement. In this country all our prisons
save one, are on the congregate system and solitary confinement is only
used as a punishment. No one who has been closely and sympathetically
in touch with his fellow-men can fail to realize the unfortunate
influence of the solitary system. Human beings must become warped
and be disqualified for after life when they have been robbed of all
companionship. The man shut away with his own thoughts and those
often of the worst character, is doomed to a deteriorating influence
that spoils the brain, and often disqualifies the whole nature for
reinstatement in a rational after life.
Only the other day I heard from one of my "boys" of two ways in which
men have sought to save their reason when long in the dark cells for
punishment. They are I believe much practiced and well-known in prison.
One is to take a pin into the punishment cell with you--then you
divert the weary hours in that pitch darkness, by throwing it up in
the air and when it falls you hunt for it on hands and knees and thus
give yourself an occupation. But, alas, the officer may know of this,
hunt for the pin and take it from you, so perhaps the other practice
is more sure to keep the brain from madness. That is the spelling of
words backwards. I have at the present time in our Hope Hall a man who
can spell anything just as quickly in that fashion as in the ordinary
way, and when asked why he taught himself what seemed such a useless
accomplishment he answered, "I saved myself from insanity by it." Ah!
we who have freedom and light and happy companionship, know nothing of
the battle and struggle, the gloom and the shadow, that these men have
had to face and live through, and those who would help them and would
deal wisely with this problem must learn to so understand it that they
will be charitable and patient in their judgment.
The greatest blessing to the man in prison is work. I had the
opportunity of witnessing the cruel evils of enforced idleness, at the
time all work was taken from the men in the prisons of New York through
the labor agitation. A bill was passed for the purpose of protecting
the outside market from prison-made goods. It was passed and suddenly
put into effect, without giving the prison officials proper time to
prepare for the consequences. Three thousand five hundred men in state
prison were thus forced to sit idle in their narrow little cells day
after day. Some lost their reason! There were several attempts at
suicide, one man flinging himself from the sixth gallery of the Sing
Sing cell house to a certain death. The wardens, sympathizing deeply
with the men, did all in their power to help them, and felt keenly
the difficult position in which they were placed, and the inhuman
cruelty thus inflicted upon the men. Naturally the plea of the world
on the outside, is that the working man must be protected but the
state is equally responsible for these men in captivity, and it cannot
afford to say as some of the agitators for free-labor, brutally said
at that time "Well, let them go insane." Warden Sage of Sing Sing
told me to come as often as possible to the prison, as he appreciated
the opportunity of letting the men out for some hours in the chapel
for my meetings. At Dannemora they were allowed to go into the empty
workshops in charge of the guards that they might have a change from
their cells, and in each prison they were allowed exercise in the yard
once a day. It was a grave time of anxiety for the officers and of
distress to the men. The matter was at last adjusted by the provision
in the law allowing the prisoners to manufacture all goods needed by
state institutions, and in the large state of New York that is quite
sufficient to give the men all the work they can do. By degrees, many
new industries were introduced into the prisons, and the problem so
far as New York is concerned was satisfactorily solved. No sooner was
this plan made a success, than criticisms were heard from labor circles
again, and they would undoubtedly have taken this work also from their
more unfortunate brothers, if it were possible for them to change the
law. Their sentiments seem to be "let the convict go insane, what
does it matter to us. The State must look after him." This is a very
short-sighted view. It should not be forgotten that many of these men
belonged to the world of honest, free labor yesterday, and will belong
to it again to-morrow. If they are spoiled in physical strength and
brain capacity, the world will sustain a loss, to say nothing of their
claim as human beings to common justice and humane treatment. Ask any
warden to name the one thing which above all others would be productive
of evil habits, insubordination and mutiny in prison and he will answer
"idleness." The public should allow no legislation that interferes
with the proper occupation of all able-bodied men in prison. There
are objections that can be brought against the contract system, but
no change should be made where it is in vogue in a prison, until such
arrangements have been made as will enable the officers to introduce
the change without leaving an interval of idleness.
The system of using the money produced by the work of the men for their
own support is of course perfectly wise. Out of the money realized,
the state can always make enough to clothe and feed the men and in
many prisons after that, there is a large surplus. Great benefit could
be derived by using part of the man's earnings for the support of his
destitute family. It would be a comfort to the man himself if it were
made possible for him to earn money for them, and it would prevent the
innocent from suffering with the guilty. We are sufficiently in touch
with this side of the problem to realize how much suffering this would
alleviate and how many lives it would save. It does not seem right that
a man should be cut off from his obligations towards wife and children
and aged parents, because of his wrong-doing. Punishment should curtail
his own pleasure, should place him where he could learn his lesson, and
should save the community from his depredations, but it should not cast
an honest woman on the streets, leave little children naked and hungry,
and wreck the homes which have sheltered them. It may be argued that
this is one of the unfortunate circumstances that are beyond the power
of the state and cannot be avoided. I have talked with gentlemen in
authority over our penal institutions, who have felt that it was not
only possible but should be undertaken as a duty of the state, to make
the man support his family by his work in prison.
Good libraries and the night schools instituted in many of our
prisons are most important aids in reformatory influence. In some of
our prisons, very fine libraries are already in existence, and in
those where books are lacking and the state has not yet been able to
provide them, donors of libraries could find no more suitable fields
for their gifts. There are three hours every evening, and all day on
Sundays and holidays, when the men have time to read. To many, this
will represent the only good opportunity for study in a lifetime. The
hard working man in the tussle of life outside, comes home at night
too weary to wend his way to the library, and even were he not tired,
there are home duties to occupy his attention. But the man in prison
can turn to books to pass the weary hours, and in so doing widens
his point of view and educates himself. There is in every prison a
percentage who are uneducated, and also a foreign element unfamiliar
with our language. Many a man who writes to me regularly has told me
that all he knows of writing and reading has been learned in prison.
We know that ignorance and the lack of proper perceptions of the
duties and responsibilities of life, are among the things conducive
to crime, hence the educating of the ignorant during the years when
such education could be encouraged or even enforced, could not fail
of good results. To increase the facilities for teaching the men and
to establish day-schools also, to make it a part of the prison labor
for all the uneducated to learn at least the rudiments of education,
would prove excellent economy for the state in the long run, and an
inestimable benefit to the prisoners themselves.
I believe I speak not from my own experience only, which has been
limited to seven years, but from that of many of our oldest wardens,
when I raise my voice against long sentences and in favor of a parole
system. The long weary years in prison unnerve--unman, and often
break a man down physically and mentally and there is no compensating
good to be gained. The shame of detection--the disgrace of his trial
and sentence with the humiliation of the first weeks of imprisonment
constitute the man's greatest punishment. After that the months and
years are ground out one after the other, without producing any great
change except on the harmful and degenerating side of the question.
Wardens have often said to me in speaking of certain men, "All that
prison can do for that man is done. He is as safe to-day to go at large
as he ever will be," and yet in the cases spoken of there were long
years yet to be served. The state is not the gainer. The men lose much
as these precious years of life pass by. The families are suffering
on the outside, and the world at large is robbed of their energies,
which, if they have learned their lesson, should be well used in the
future. By a good parole system, men when reformed, could have a chance
to prove themselves worthy of full reinstatement in the world. Liberty
would be theirs before they had lost courage, strength and confidence,
and yet the state would have them under surveillance, and, if they
proved unworthy, they could be returned to prison. Undoubtedly the
knowledge that they were on probation would be a safeguard to many
men and would make them careful as to their actions. I very strongly
believe however that a parole system to be truly just, should be
extended to all men proving worthy, irrespective of the length of
sentence for which their crime would call under the old system. I would
not say that the man who had stolen a pocketbook could be paroled, and
the man who had committed burglary or forgery could not be eligible.
Every case must stand on its own merits, and the test should be whether
the man has shown signs of genuine reform. Many of the long term men
are far more worthy of parole and are far more worthy of trust, than
some whose deeds have called for a lighter sentence. Again the thought
comes up in this connection that it is the man we are dealing with, and
not the crime.
My work has sometimes been called "prison reform work." That is
erroneous. "Prisoner reforming" would be more correct. I believe the
wardens of this country are the right workers to advance the needed
reforms and the best able to do so, and it is the duty of the public to
stand by and help them, backing up the legislative measures that they
advocate as helpful to the men in prisons. This especially is urged
where they have proved themselves earnest and faithful workers on the
advance lines of thought in penology. I must not fail to speak of the
excellent work accomplished by Superintendent Cornelius V. Collins
in New York State, nor of the earnest men composing the Board of
Control in Iowa. More such men with the liberty and power to undertake
the interests of the "boys" will soon bring about a wiser and more
practicable system in our prisons.
XIII
DOES IT PAY?
In every enterprise that represents expenditure of money, time or
energy, the question naturally asked by the practical business man is,
"Does it pay?" The capitalist expects the output of the mine to bring
in some substantial return for the money sunk therein, and the quality
and quantity of the precious metal workable is of the greatest moment
to him.
It is natural that those who have helped with their means should ask
the same question of work undertaken for the seeking of God's gold in
the deep, dark mine of state prison. If those who have given money to
such an enterprise are anxious as to the result how much more must
those who have put time, life and strength into the cause desire to
see a paying return. Such a work as this cannot be undertaken by any
who would enter into it as a fad or give to it leisure hours. It must
be a serious life-work and its demands are great on time and thought,
strength and energy. Tears, and many trials through dark hours of
struggle and disappointment must be endured, while weary days of
unceasing toil must be put into the work by those who would succeed.
Naturally, year after year, those who have thus toiled have their day
of account balancing when they place what it costs into one side of the
balance, and into the other what they have to show for it in tangible,
practical, lasting result. Since one has but one life to live, to
those who look upon life as a precious talent to be accounted for, the
question must naturally be one of the most vital importance.
Very frankly was I told by prison officers, outside advisers, and
even by "the boys" themselves, that the result of our prison work
would be very small compared to its cost. If, however, we value the
victory by the hardness of the fight that won it, gems by the cost of
their purchase, the edleweiss with its snowy blossoms by the long and
dangerous climb up mountain crags to gather it, in this field its very
difficulties should make the results of greater worth and moment.
It would be obvious folly to claim that such a mission as this
is uniformly successful. To refuse to own that there are in it
disappointments and failures would be cowardice. In every work that
aims at the raising of fallen humanity there must be a certain measure
of apparent defeat. The weakness of human nature and the tendency of
those who have once gone astray to retrograde, if earnest watchfulness
is for a moment relaxed, make failure a very easy matter. Every
minister of Christ's Gospel knows of those for whom he has prayed,
toiled and struggled only to be rewarded by their return to the evil
thing that has proved too strong for them. Amid the twelve even the
Christ Himself had this experience. Avarice proved too strong for the
Judas who betrayed Him. Doubt made Thomas forget the teachings and
revelations of the Christ as the divine Messiah, cowardice made Peter
deny his Lord, and there were many who forsook Him when they should
have been steadfast.
If retrograding is found in every field of Christian work, this
prison field can certainly be no exception, especially when you take
into consideration the terribly heavy handicap these men have from
the enemies within and without who must be withstood and overcome
at every step. The ever-open door of the saloon, the fellow-workmen
or old companions anxious for them to drink the friendly glass,
disappointments in losing work, the sneer and slur of those who may
have learned of their past, combine to drag them back. Above all, the
old habits of evil doing and weakness, that have become interwoven
with every thought and act and plan of life are as a fetter upon their
progress. These things form a solid phalanx of foes.