A PRISONER HIS OWN JUDGE
"Now," said Brum, as the freight train steamed into the town and came
to a standstill, "we must see the marshal." With this end in view we
walked towards the passenger depot, which, Brum informed us, was
visited by the marshal several times a day, so that he might the
better accost such tramps as were going through that town. We arrived
at that place and stamped up and down the platform, to circulate our
blood, for it was now snowing heavily, and the wind blowing in small
gusts that discovered us, shelter wherever we would.
How the snow falls in the north! Flake on flake falling incessantly,
until the small dingles are almost on a level with the uplands. It
throws itself on the leaves of Autumn, and holds them down in security
from the strongest winds. It piles great banks against people's doors,
and mothers and daughters are made prisoners to their own hearths,
until fathers and sons set to and cut a path to the open thoroughfare.
Special snow trains are at work clearing the track to make the way
easier for passenger trains and freight trains that run on passenger
lines, being loaded with cattle or other perishable goods; whilst
other freight is often delayed for days, and sometimes weeks.
We had been here some fifteen minutes, when we saw the marshal coming
down the road leading to the station, the bright star of his authority
being seen distinctly on his breast. "Now," said Brum, "let me be the
spokesman, and I will arrange for a month's comfort." By this time the
marshal stood before us. "Boys," he began, "cold weather for
travelling, eh?" "We don't feel the cold," was Brum's reply. "You will
though," said the marshal, "this is but the beginning, and there is a
long and severe winter before you, without a break. You would
certainly be better off in jail. Sixty days in our jail, which is
considered one of the best, if not the best, in Michigan, would do you
no harm, I assure you." "As for that," said Brum, "we might take
thirty days each, providing of course, that you made it worth while.
What about tobacco and a drink or two of whiskey?" "That'll be all
right," said the marshal, "here's half a dollar for a drink, and the
sheriff will supply your tobacco." "No, no," objected Brum, "give us a
dollar and three cakes of tobacco, and we will take thirty days, and
remember, not a day over." The marshal produced the three cakes of
tobacco, seeming to be well prepared for these demands, and giving us
a paper dollar, requested us to go to Donovan's saloon, which we
would find in the main street, where he would see us later in the day;
"when of course," he added, winking, "you will be supposed to be just
a bit merry."
"What is the meaning of all this?" I asked Brum, as we went our way to
Mr. Donovan's saloon. "It simply means this," he said, "that the
marshal gets a dollar each for every arrest he makes--in our case
three dollars; the judge receives three or four dollars for every
conviction, and the sheriff of the jail is paid a dollar a day for
boarding each prisoner under his charge; we benefit by a good rest,
warmth, good food and plenty of sleep, and the innocent citizens have
to pay for it all."
We had not much difficulty in finding Donovan's saloon, which we
entered, and called for whiskey. It so happened that two strangers
were there, who had made a considerable stake in the backwoods, and
had come to this town to squander their earnings. We therefore came
into many a free drink, through the liberality of these men. About an
hour and a half had elapsed when we discovered ourselves to be alone
in the bar, and without means of procuring more liquor. "We had better
be going," said Brum, and we passed into the street. Brum saw the
marshal coming up the road and began singing in a lusty voice, to the
astonishment of some of the storekeepers. Australian Red, being the
worse for drink, and forgetting that we had only to feign this part,
began to roar like a bull, merry in earnest. On this the marshal
quickly crossed the street and in the hearing of several citizens,
shouted in an authoritative voice:--"I arrest you for being drunk and
disorderly," and we followed him like lambs. We were then led to the
sheriff's house, adjoining the jail. That gentleman, being in,
received us with open arms saying--"Welcome, boys, you want thirty
days, and thirty you shall have, no more or less; and you will be none
the worse for it, I promise you, at the end of the month." He then
made a few casual items in a large book, roughly descriptive of our
weight, height, and personal appearance, and then led the way through
two or three corridors, until we were confronted by a large iron door.
This he opened with an iron key, and we were ushered into a large
room, where were assembled between thirty or forty prisoners. Some
were reading, some were pacing to and fro, and several batches of them
were playing cards. What a reception we had, bringing in a fresh
supply of information from the outside. "Have you seen Detroit Fatty?"
asked one. "Or the Saginaw Kid?" asked another. "Or Chicago Slim?"
asked another. Brum, who seemed to know these wonderful persons,
answered according to his knowledge.
In this large room, for the common use of the prisoners, were twenty
or more cells, to which they retired for sleep, but were never locked
in--except maybe, an occasional prisoner, who might be waiting trial
under a charge of grand larceny, manslaughter, or murder. Supper was
soon brought in, and it was a good substantial meal. Its quantity
seemed to be more than idle men needed, if they had three such meals
every day, and its quality would satisfy me in any position in life.
What a pleasure it was that night to be in warmth, and with our minds
eased of a month's anxiety. "What time are you going to do?" asked
one. "Thirty days," answered Brum. "Plenty," said the other. "There is
more jails than this, and not much difference in them, and to go out
in the cold for a day or two makes us better appreciate the warmth and
comfort within."
Next morning we were taken by the sheriff to the court-house, where a
number of town people were assembled, owing to the more interesting
trial of a local man. I have often thought with amusement of this
scene. Despite the judge's severe expression, and his solemn
deliberate utterance, we knew what to expect,--thirty days, no more or
less. The sheriff whispered to the judge, and the judge nodded sagely,
at the same time casting his eyes in our direction. We were charged
with being drunk and disorderly, and with disturbing the public peace.
"He did not see," he said, "why peaceable citizens should be disturbed
in this way by drunken strangers, and would fine us seven dollars and
costs, in default of which we would be lodged in the county jail for
thirty days." We were then led back by the sheriff, and when we were
again among the prisoners, they seemed to express very little
curiosity as to our sentences, knowing it was our wish that we should
receive thirty days, and that the judge was at our pleasure--we being
in fact our own judges.
Every morning the sheriff required half a dozen prisoners to sweep and
clean the court-house, which was situated about half a mile from the
jail. Australian Red and myself went with him several mornings, for a
little fresh air, but prisoners could please themselves, and Brum, I
know, never left the jail during the whole thirty days. It was an
understood thing that any prisoner could discharge himself on these
occasions, if inclined, without any fear of capture. The Marshal and
the Judge had had their dollars for arrest and conviction, and I
suppose, the sheriff charged for board and lodging, without mention of
a prisoner's escape. Perhaps they were afraid of bringing back an
escaped prisoner, for fear he might make some awkward disclosures. At
any rate, liberty could be had by a very deliberate walk and there was
certainly no need to make a desperate dash for it. Of course, there
was no reason why any prisoner should seek to escape these conditions,
which were of his own seeking, and which, during this unpleasant time
of the year, could not in any way be bettered by homeless men.
After serving our sentence, and the sheriff exacting a promise from us
to return again that winter, if not the following, we sought another
jail some twenty miles from the last, which prisoners had spoken
highly of. We were told that there was no necessity at this place of
going through the form of an arrest, but that we could go straight in
out of the cold. The Sheriff would at once receive us at his house,
learn our wants, while the judge would attend to us on the following
morning.
We arrived at this place, and everything turned out as described. The
jail was no different from the other. We were catered for as customers
that would, if treated with courtesy and good living, return winter
after winter, and patronise this place in preference to visiting the
more congenial climate of the south. At this place we sentenced
ourselves to another thirty days. Our room, like the other, was a
large iron cage, in which were twenty-four cells in a double row, main
floor and gallery, like little cages within it. As we entered this
large cage, the sheriff opening the iron door, a number of jail-birds
were singing merrily, not for liberty, but enjoying such captivity.
There was only one real prisoner here, who was waiting trial under a
charge of manslaughter, and he was the one prisoner to be locked in
his cell at night; and, in that cell, had waited trial a most cold
blooded murderer. Here we had the usual amusements of card playing,
singing and relating experiences.
The real prisoner--for none of the others had been guilty of any
offence, having entered of their own free will--was very unfortunate
in having a pair of wags quartered in the cell above him. These two
practical jokers made a figure of their bed clothes, and letting it
down, dangled it in front of this prisoner's cell. The poor wretch,
happening to be awake, and thinking this was Bill Henderson, murderer,
and late occupant of the cell, come to haunt him, leaped from his bed,
crying with a horror-stricken voice--"Bill Henderson, by God!" Before
he could recover from his fear and make a more calm investigation, the
figure was withdrawn. All this happened as expected, and the prisoners
were delighted, for they had been hinting all day about Bill
Henderson's ghost, so that it might take hold of this poor wretch's
nerves. Once only during the night was this accomplished, so that
their victim might have no suspicion as to its being a genuine ghost.
Every time the sheriff appeared the prisoner complained to him of this
ghost murderer, pleading for a removal, or an early trial. That
gentleman invariably listened with a sarcastic smile, seeming to have
some notion of the truth, by glancing at the faces of the other
prisoners. How these sheriffs, marshals and constables, despise
cowardice, and how they respect the intrepidity of dangerous men.
Many a sheriff, I believe, has surrendered his prison keys to the
lynchers and the lawless mobs, forgetting his duty in disgust at the
exhibition of fear in one for whom he is responsible. And many a
sheriff would lay down his life to protect a criminal who with cool
nerve faces his cell, callous and indifferent.
We visited, and were entertained, in several jails during this winter,
and emerged from the last in the middle of April.
I have heard since that this system of boodle, as it was called, was
in the following winter entirely squashed. A sheriff, it seemed, being
of an avaricious disposition, had interfered with the quality and
quantity of the prisoners' rations. Therefore, when respectable
citizens visited the jail to speak a few sympathetic words to the
prisoners, which they usually did on Sunday, those discontented
jail-birds complained of insufficient picking; and informed the
citizens that they had been guilty of no offence; that they had
entered the jail through being promised enjoyment, and that those
expectations had not been realised. On hearing this, the citizens
formed a committee, and soon discovered the whole system to be rotten.
Seeing how they had been robbed, they deposed several officers and the
upshot of it was that travellers never again visited that part of
America in quest of comfortable jails.
For a day or two the least exertion tired us, owing to our winter's
inactivity, but take it all in all, we were certainly in good bodily
condition. It was now that Australian Red made his first proposal. He
knew a fruit farm, where he had been previously employed, "in this
very State," said he, "on the shores of Lake Michigan." "How long does
the work last?" I asked. "All the summer," he answered, "and good pay
for an active man." "All right," I said, "if I can make a pretty fair
stake, I shall then return to England and home." Brum agreeing to
this, we lit a fire that evening near a water tank, intending to take
the first freight train that came our way. When the train arrived, we
still dallied at the fire, which was a considerable distance from the
track. It whistled before we expected and began its journey. "Break
away," cried Australian Red, making a rush for the departing train.
The speed of the train was increasing and when I reached its side I
was almost afraid to attempt to board it. Australian Red succeeded,
but when we reached the next stopping place, we were greatly
disappointed to find that Brum had been left behind. We got off and
waited the arrival of other trains, thinking that he would soon follow
us, but as Brum did not appear on any of them, we continued our
journey, thinking to see him later. I never saw him again. He had
complained of the year not being sufficiently aired for freedom, and
had proposed another short term in jail. No doubt, after losing us he
had done this.