The Municipal Court of Chicago began its existence December 3rd, 1906.
Besides transacting civil business, it is the trial court for all
misdemeanors as well as for all violations of city ordinances. The
Maxwell Street criminal branch, where I presided for thirteen months, is
on the West Side, about a mile from the City Hall, in what is known as
the Ghetto District. This district--not more than a mile square--has
between two and three hundred thousand inhabitants, of thirty different
nationalities, many of them from the poorest laboring class. In one
school district near the court, three and one-half blocks long and two
blocks wide, there are fourteen hundred public school children, besides
hundreds who attend parochial schools, and many who attend none.
It is the Maxwell Street district of which a leading Chicago newspaper,
afterward quoted in MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE, said: "In this territory
murderers, robbers, and thieves of the worst kind are born, reared, and
grown to maturity in numbers which exceed the record of any similar
district anywhere on the face of the globe; murders by the score,
shooting and stabbing affrays by the hundred, assaults, burglaries, and
robberies by the thousand--such is the crime record each year for this
festering place of evil which lies a scant mile from the heart of
Chicago."
Within a few days from my going into this court, I was confronted with
the problem of what to do with violators of the city laws who had others
dependent upon them for support. To impose a fine upon such persons
would, if the fine were paid, ordinarily deprive the family of some of
the necessaries of life. On the other hand, if the fine were not paid
and the offender were committed to the House of Correction to work it
out at the rate of fifty cents a day, not only would the family be
deprived of their means of support during his imprisonment, but the
defendant, when released, would be without employment or the ability
then to provide for his family. I observed that frequently women whose
husbands had been fined for beating them would go out and borrow money
with which to pay the fine.
It was very apparent that such proceedings operated most harshly upon
the poor. A person able to pay a fine had comparatively little to fear
if he violated the city laws, while inability to pay meant the loss of
liberty twenty-four hours for each fifty cents of the fine and costs,
which was nothing more or less than imprisonment for debt.
_In the Homes of the "Repeaters"_
Persons were often brought before me who had been imprisoned many times
and who were no better but obviously much worse as a result of such
treatment. I found upon investigation that the city contained a very
large number of these persons, who were known as "repeaters," and that
the time of the police and the courts was much occupied in re-arresting
and recommitting them to the House of Correction. Upon examining the
records of this institution, I found that of the nine thousand persons
imprisoned the previous year because of their inability to pay the fines
imposed, _nearly one-half had been there from two to two hundred and one
times each_. _Eighteen women had each served one hundred terms._ I was
therefore convinced that this method of "correction" was not only harsh
and unjust to the families of such persons, but was of no value as a
corrective to the defendants themselves.
Startled by such disclosures, I resolved to study conditions at close
range and went into the homes of some of these offenders against the
law, taking with me interpreters, for the great majority of them were
foreigners. In many of these homes poverty had done its worst. Every
surrounding influence favored undesirable citizenship; every turn
presented flagrant violations of the law; the tumble-down stairways, the
defective plumbing, the overflowing garbage boxes, the uncleaned streets
and alleys, all suggested that laws were not made to be enforced. Many
of the unfortunates whom I saw there regarded the law as a revengeful
monster, a sort of Juggernaut that would work fearful ruin upon any one
who got in its way, but otherwise was not a matter of concern. When I
explained to them that the law was their friend and not their enemy,
they did not appear to comprehend.
In one place there was a broken-down woman with six children. Two of the
children had been arrested for stealing coal from a car. The mother
explained that her "man" was in the Bridewell sobering up from one of
his frequent drunks and that they had no money to buy coal, which was
plainly apparent. Here were children forced to become criminals because
the law was helpless to correct their father.
"_The House of Corruption_"
In substantially every case that I investigated, I found that,
notwithstanding the efficient management of our work-house, the offender
had come out a less desirable member of society than when he went in;
his employment was gone, his reputation was injured, his will weakened,
his knowledge of crime and criminal practices greatly increased. As one
young girl expressed it: "It is not a House of Correction, but a House
of Corruption."
I decided, therefore, to try the plan of suspending over such offenders
the maximum sentence permitted by law, and allow them to determine by
their subsequent conduct whether they should lose or retain their
liberty, with the full knowledge that further delinquency meant, not
another trial with its possibility of acquittal or brief sentence, but
summary and severe punishment. As a condition precedent to allowing such
an offender his liberty, I required him to promise that he would not
again indulge in the thing which was responsible for his wrong-doing. In
the great majority of cases this was the use of intoxicating liquor; in
some, the use of drugs or cigarettes, the patronizing of cheap theaters,
or evil associates. I also required him for a time to report to me at
regular intervals, usually every two weeks, when a night session of the
court was held for such purpose, and to bring with him his wife or other
witness who could testify to his subsequent conduct.
_Four Hundred Able Probation Officers_
A serious difficulty then presented itself. I saw that as their numbers
increased, it would become impossible for me to keep in personal touch
with all these offenders. No parole law for adults, with its paid
probation officers, exists in Illinois, and no funds for this purpose
were available. I determined, therefore, to appeal to the business men
of the district to serve as volunteer probation officers. Through the
lawyers who practised in my court, I secured a list of nearly one
hundred business and professional men who gladly consented to visit one
or more defendants each month and report to me in writing upon blanks
which I furnished them. The number of probation officers was
subsequently increased to about four hundred, and their monthly reports
were entered upon our special docket, which contained the necessary
memoranda and history of the case made at the trial.
Certainly no more valuable object lesson was ever presented to hustling,
bustling, money-loving, pleasure-hunting Chicago than these doctors,
lawyers, manufacturers, and merchants going into the homes of their poor
and unfortunate neighbors and taking a genuine interest in their
welfare. Here was the ideal probation officer, whose feeling for his
ward was something more than chilly professional solicitude; and
splendidly did these men do their work. Many of them did more than show
a passing interest in the offenders assigned to them. They often gave
them employment and encouraged them by increasing their wages from time
to time. It was a common thing for substantial business men to appear in
court and offer employment to persons whom they wished placed on
probation, agreeing at the same time to report regularly as to their
subsequent conduct.
A typical illustration of this was shown in the case of a young man who
had an old mother to support, and who had fallen into bad company which
had led him astray. The gang had rented a flat where they caroused far
into the night and were then wont to prey upon their neighbors'
hen-roosts. Upon his promise to reform, he was placed on probation and
given employment by Mr. S. Franklin, one of the largest manufacturers in
the district, who not only afterwards raised his wages, but sent, with
his compliments, a dozen handsome pictures to decorate the court-room.
That was a year ago, and the other day this young fellow came to my
downtown court room to exhibit, proudly, a new suit of clothes purchased
with money withdrawn from his savings-bank account.
_Liquor Dealers Vote to Coöperate_
Soon after inaugurating my parole system, I invited the four hundred
liquor dealers of the district to a conference in my court-room. My
first appearance in the Maxwell Street Court had called forth violent
opposition from many of the liquor dealers, who declared that my record
as a teetotaler disqualified me from administering justice in that
district. I was in some doubt, therefore, as to how my invitation would
be received; but it was unanimously accepted, and the court-room was not
large enough to accommodate the number that responded, so that it was
necessary to hold three sessions. The audiences were picturesque and
included men not entirely sober, but the great majority listened
attentively while I explained my plan and requested that they coöperate
with me to the extent of refusing to sell their wares to any person upon
my parole list. I promised to furnish each saloon-keeper with such a
list for his private reference only; and I gave warning that thereafter
sales made knowingly to such persons would subject the seller to summary
punishment.
A number of the liquor dealers followed my address with remarks highly
complimentary to the work being done, and a resolution pledging me their
support was unanimously adopted. The same day, by a curious coincidence,
the Women's Christian Temperance Union passed a similar resolution in
another part of the city.
All of the liquor dealers, with a very few exceptions, subsequently
acted in entire harmony with the resolution. One, who caused the
intoxication of a paroled defendant, was fined $50, which he paid; and
no further trouble occurred.
It must not, of course, be supposed that this parole plan was original
with me in all its features. A number of States have passed laws for the
probation of adult offenders, providing for official probation officers
to visit and report upon the persons paroled; but no other court has
adopted the plan of holding night parole sessions or has enlisted to so
large an extent the services of the business men of the district. These
were the two features which in my experience proved most effective in
reclaiming the offenders.
_Record of Success Ninety-two Per Cent_
During my thirteen months' term in the Maxwell Street Court, I tried
upwards of eight thousand cases and placed upon probation 1,231 persons.
The results were as gratifying as they were surprising, and won for the
plan the sincere support and coöperation of the police department in the
district, many of the officers assuring me that it had reduced crime
one-half. Eleven hundred and thirty-four of the paroled offenders, or
about ninety-two per cent., faithfully kept the terms of their parole,
and became sober, industrious citizens. Substantially all of those who
lapsed did so because they violated their pledge of total abstinence.
None, with one or two trivial exceptions, afterward committed any
offense against the law.
At one time a number of young men were brought in charged with
burglary, but after the evidence was heard the complaints were amended
to petit larceny, and the defendants were given their liberty upon
promising to go to work and obey the law. When I left the Maxwell Street
Court on January 11, 1908, to try civil cases, the suspended sentences
in all cases were set aside and the defendants discharged, and I felt
some apprehension lest these young men, as well as many others, should,
after all restraint was removed, return to their former ways. This fear
has proved groundless, the percentage of lapses since January 11 being
little, if any, greater than before. A report from the Police
Department, covering the young men above referred to, has just been
received by me. It reads as follows:
"Driving team, O. K., habits good"; "driving team, sister says
he is doing fine"; "driving express wagon for his father, doing
fine"; "driving team, stays home nights and brings his money
home"; "laboring for $2.00 per day. Mother says he is doing
better"; "laboring for $2.00 per day, doing fairly well";
"drives buggy for ---- Teaming Co., O. K."; "works for the ----
R. R., steady ever since paroled."
Because of the absence of express statutory authority, no person charged
with a misdemeanor was released on parole except with the approval of
the police and the State's attorney; but there were many cases where a
parole was not given, in which I felt satisfied that it would have
yielded good results. There were, however, upon our special docket,
persons charged with larceny, embezzlement, wife abandonment, selling
liquor to minors, malicious mischief, assault and battery, and other
similar offenses; and except in the one or two cases referred to, which
were of a minor nature, the defendants have shown their sincerity by
their actions, and their conduct has in every case been exemplary and
satisfactory.
In one case, where the charge was larceny, the police assured me that
the defendant had been arrested fifty times. It seemed such a desperate
case that I gave him the longest term allowed by the law. After he had
been in jail a few days, I discovered that his aged father and mother
were sick and helpless, and needed his support. I set aside the judgment
and allowed him his liberty upon the understanding that if he again
violated the law he would be required to serve out the remainder of the
term. He has since worked steadily and faithfully, although, when I went
into his home one day upon learning that he had met with an accident, I
found poverty and dirt enough to drive anybody to commit crime.
In addition to the support of the police officers, the plan of
releasing offenders on parole has had the influential backing of the
members of the bar, including the assistant State's attorney, and also
of the citizens of the district, who were practically unanimous in its
endorsement. The manager of a large department-store assured me that
shoplifting had practically ceased since a number of petty thieves had
been put on probation under maximum suspended sentences. It would be
impossible for me adequately to describe the gratifying surprises that
came almost daily in my experience with these supposedly irreclaimable
men and women. I found that they invariably grasped with desperate
eagerness at a chance to reform, and the joy which they exhibited at the
night sessions was oftentimes very pathetic. "We are happier than for
years," and "We're having our honeymoon over" were the reports made
again and again.
Intense gratitude to the law for giving them "another chance" was the
characteristic sentiment in nearly every case, and this feeling proved
more powerful in bringing about their reformation than the fear of
punishment.
_The Story of Jim the Engineer_
One day I was hearing a robbery case, when Jim ---- entered and modestly
seated himself at the rear of the court-room. Jim was running a
locomotive on the Burlington Road, and although he had recently married,
was voluntarily laying off two days in the week in order that a
fellow-engineer, who had a family to support, might have a show during
the hard times. I motioned to my bailiff, and a minute later Jim was
seated beside me on the bench, listening to the evidence in the robbery
case. I well knew what was passing through his mind, for it was only ten
months before that he had stood before the same bar, charged with crime,
and it was then that he had promised me, whom he had never seen before,
that if I would give him "another chance" he would turn over a new leaf
and eschew crime and the society of criminals forever.
This resolution followed a brief talk in my chambers after his trial.
His record was not in his favor, and his picture hung in the rogues'
gallery. His brother was then serving time, and he had two sisters
dependent upon him for support. After I had briefly pointed out to him
the folly of such a life as he was then leading, he quietly remarked:
"No one ever talked to me that way before; my father is dead and my
mother is dead, and I haven't a friend in this town." "Well," I replied,
"you probably don't deserve one, the way you have lived, but if you will
cut out liquor and go to work" (he had not worked for four months) "and
take care of your sisters, you will have friends." He finally agreed
that he would do this. "Now," I said, "if you don't keep your promise to
me, you will get me into trouble with the officers." He said: "I will
show you I can make good." He could not get a bondsman, and I let him go
after he had signed his own bond.
He went to work at a dollar a day at the first place he struck, and his
wages have been raised four times. One day I had a letter from his
sister saying that he had met with an accident. As soon as I adjourned
court, I went to the hospital to see him. He said to me: "I will never
take chloroform again." I asked, "Why not, Jim?" and he replied: "During
this operation, while I was under the influence of chloroform, it seemed
to me as if I was going from one saloon to another, and they tell me I
didn't do a thing except holler for beer. You bet I will never touch
chloroform again." After five weeks in the hospital, Jim, thanks to his
fine constitution, pulled through, but the first day he went out on the
street he was "picked up" by a vigilant "plain-clothes" man on suspicion
of being implicated in a robbery, and spent several hours in jail. Truly
the way of the transgressor is hard--not only while he is a
transgressor, but for some time afterwards.
_Suspended Sentence versus the Gold Cure_
Prejudice against any new method, no matter how successful, was not the
only thing I had to contend with in carrying out my plan. Many members
of the medical profession assured me that a habitual drunkard could not
voluntarily leave liquor alone; that his stomach was in such a condition
from the use of alcohol that he must first be given medical treatment
before any hope of his reform could be entertained. "Gold Cure"
specialists haunted me day and night with offers of free treatment for
those on my parole list, all of which I respectfully declined for the
reason that several persons who had taken such "cures" without effect
had, under the influence of a suspended sentence, become entirely sober
and remained so. Many, in fact, were upon the verge of delirium tremens
when brought into court, but none were too far gone to be restored.
_The Effect on the Children_
The proper operation of adult probation will, in my judgment, abolish to
a considerable extent the necessity for the Juvenile Court, which has
become a new and efficient though expensive institution in a number of
States.
Several months ago a man was brought into my court charged with
abandoning his family. I investigated and found that there were five
children; that a petition was pending in the Juvenile Court to take them
away from their mother and father; that the mother was a confirmed
drunkard, spending her time in saloons and dance-halls; and that the
father, although himself an habitual drunkard and loafer, refused to
associate longer with his wife or to live with her. I put them both upon
probation, giving them clearly to understand that a single infraction of
their promise meant six months in the Bridewell. The man went to work
and he is now making $13.50 a week. They have moved out of the basement
they occupied into a comfortable flat. The petition in the Juvenile
Court has been dismissed, and the children are clean and
wholesome-looking and go to school.
A few months ago the Chicago newspapers reported that the Juvenile Court
had taken six children from a filthy basement and had distributed them
among the charitable institutions. The report stated that their mother
was dead and that their drunken father had deserted them. I handed this
clipping to a police officer and asked him to bring the man in. The
officer found him in a saloon and made a complaint charging him with
disorderly conduct. I sent him to the Bridewell to sober up and receive
treatment for alcoholism, and after he had been there four weeks I set
aside the order and put him on parole upon his promise to stop drinking
and go to work. I told him that as soon as he satisfied me that he could
make good, I would ask Judge Tuthill of the Juvenile Court to restore
his children to him; and when I last heard from him he was hard at work,
keeping his promise and fixing up a home for his children.
_The Criminal's "Debt" to Society Overpaid_
That a suspended sentence should be of greater value in bringing about
the reformation of a criminal than a prison term is, I believe,
reasonable and logical. When the criminal has served his sentence, his
supposed debt to society is paid. If he commits another crime, he does
so with the chance, in his favor, of a possible acquittal, a "hung"
jury, a light sentence, or a reversal upon appeal. He is consequently
willing to take risks which he would not take were the consequences sure
and severe. The most important element in the defendant's reformation,
however, is his avoidance of the physical, mental, and moral injury
which he would suffer by serving his prison sentence. In these days,
when practically every applicant for a position must present references
of previous service, a prison term means ruin. If at the end of his term
he is reformed, his reformation is of no value in obtaining employment.
Prison sentences did not have this effect a hundred years ago, but times
have changed. Every released convict is a shrinking coward, fearful that
each person he meets knows his record. The new, plain suit of clothes he
is given upon leaving prison is worn only until he can find a secondhand
clothing store where it may be exchanged for something less good, but
clothed in which he will have a trifle less fear of identification. If
he succeeds in getting employment by changing his name and concealing
his past, he lives in mortal terror lest his deception be discovered.
It is a fundamental principle of the law that no man can be punished
more than once for the same offense. His "debt" to society is presumed
to be conclusively paid when his term of imprisonment expires; and yet
under present conditions his real punishment is then only beginning. I
have just finished reading a twenty-three-page letter from an
ex-convict, who eighteen years ago completed a seven months' term. He
tells in a simple and pathetic fashion of his efforts to escape from his
prison record, but time and time again, just as he had won the
confidence of his employer, some one happened along who "gave him away,"
and then he was obliged to move and try it again. Never, during all this
time, has he dared to attempt to vote, or take any part in public or
social affairs. Surely a fearful penance for one violation of the law,
especially when we know that thousands of wealthy and influential
lawbreakers are never punished!
If an ex-convict has a family, he returns from prison to find them
impoverished, shunned by their neighbors, his children scorned and
sneered at by their schoolmates--everything worse, more helpless, than
when he left them. All of this, and much more, is escaped by the man
under a suspended sentence; his capital is unimpaired, and by "making
good" his record will be cleared.
That many, perhaps a majority, of criminals can be wholly reformed
without imprisonment, through the means of a suspended maximum sentence,
with little or no expense to the State, I am satisfied beyond a doubt;
and this will be done when we can eliminate from the treatment of
criminals the desire for revenge and look only to the good of the
individual and of society.