The foundation of this prison was laid in 1809. It is built of stone
throughout, has three stories, and thirty-five rooms or cells, with
strong and massy iron doors. The cells on the ground are small, with
small _apertures_ or windows; those in the second story are generally
larger, but with similar apertures; and those in the upper story are
all larger, and have grated windows, much larger than those in the
other stories. In this story are two rooms which are used as
hospitals. The furniture of the rooms are straw beds, with convenient
and comfortable clothing, small seats and a few books. The ground
story is for the prisoners when they first enter the prison. After
some time, if they conduct in a satisfactory manner, they are moved to
the second story; from which, in due time, if they merit the favor,
they are permitted to ascend to the third. If any of the prisoners, in
the second and third stories, transgress the laws, they are put down
_one_ story as a part of their punishment.
[Illustration: Windsor Prison.]
Some of the small cells in the first and second stories are used as
_solitary_ cells for the punishment of offenders. The apertures of
these are closed, so that they are as dark as midnight. While the
offender is in these, he has only one blanket to sleep on, in the
coldest weather in the winter, and in the summer, nothing but the
stone floor. His only sustenance is a piece of bread once a day,
weighing from four to six ounces. Some prisoners have been confined in
these places more than thirty days, though the usual time varies from
six to twelve. Many have frozen their feet there, and in many a
constitution, the seeds of decay and death have there been planted.
The furniture of the hospitals is of a piece with that of the other
parts of the prison, and only _one_ degree more comfortable. The beds
are straw; the clothes are clean; the food various, according to the
complaints of the sick, but never rises to the claims of humanity. In
the winter, the patients are blessed with a stove, and are kept
comfortably warm. This is the _dying_ place, but some are denied the
comfort of even this, and die before they can get admittance.
According to the laws of the prison, however, this is the only place
in which medicine must be given, and the appointed department for all
that are sick. But laws are only ropes of sand. The laws of the prison
are merciful, but neither the rains of spring, the dews of morning,
nor the sunbeams of heaven, can either soften or fertilize a rock.
It was the original design that the whole prison should be kept warm,
and large stoves were provided for this purpose; but it was found
impossible to do this by the means used, and after a few years, the
coldest part of the winter found not a spark of fire in any of the
halls. Much is suffered on account of the cold; but it is a place of
punishment, and this is the kind and feeling argument with which the
keepers meet the entreaties of the shivering prisoners. Many a time
have I made large balls by scraping the frost with my hand from the
stone sides of my cell; and thousands of times have my hands been so
chilled, that I had to tax my ingenuity to turn over the pages of my
bible.
Adjoining the prison is a large brick house, for the use of the
keepers and guard. At some distance in the rear, is a large brick
shop, in which the prisoners are employed during the day, at their
labor, which was at first making nails and other smith work, but has
since been changed to manufacturing cotton cloth, ginghams, plaids,
&c. This shop is kept warm and clean.
Another brick building between the shop and prison was erected for
store rooms, lumber rooms, &c., and for a chapel. This part of it was
very convenient, and spoke much for the pious feelings of the
individuals who erected it. It was used, however, only a few years for
the worship of God, when "a new king arose who knew not Joseph," and
the voice of the preacher and the utterance of prayer departed from
this temple, and the buyers and sellers, and money changers occupied
the place of the priest, and polluted the sacred altar. It was painful
to tread on these sacred ruins, and to hear the clack of looms where
the soul had hung with transport on the sacred sounds of instruction,
and been melted with the holy ardors of devotional feeling. "By what
spirit," I often asked, "was this ruin made? Was it the spirit of
piety?"--No! The genius of this change came not from Jordan's waves,
nor from Zion's holy hill; the hand that smote this altar of religion
and extinguished the last cheering light of the contrite soul was
nerved by the same spirit that led the guilty rabble to smite the
condemned Redeemer, and place on his innocent head a crown of thorns.
Another brick building east of this, used as an office for the master
weaver, and a carpenter's shop, &c. is all that had been erected
previously to the building of the new prison for solitary confinement,
in 1830. Around all these is a wall about sixteen feet high, and three
feet thick at the base, which completes the Establishment.
The government of the prison was, at first, vested in a Board of
Visiters, who appointed the subordinate officers, made the By-Laws of
the Institution, and made report of their doings to the Legislature
every year. The officers of their appointment were the head keeper and
three or more assistant keepers--five guard--a master weaver--a
physician--a chaplain--and a contractor. One of the Visiters attended
at the prison one day in every week to give directions about the work,
and to see that the By-Laws were obeyed and enforced.
After some years this form of the government was changed, and the duty
of the Board of Visiters committed to one man, denominated the
Superintendent. Another change soon after gave the appointment of a
Warden to the Legislature, and the appointment of the inferior
officers to him, leaving the Superintendent to act only as
_contractor_. After eight years the office of Warden was destroyed by
the Legislature, and all authority recommitted to the Superintendent.
These changes in the government did not effect, in any degree, the
_spirit_ by which the prison was governed; and while each form had its
peculiarities and excellencies, they all had their defects. The
principal defects were the investing of the Visiters and Wardens, and
Superintendents with the power to appoint _physicians_ and
_chaplains_. These are high and important offices, and ought not to be
answerable to any power but supreme. The physician, depending on the
pleasure of a petty officer for his appointment, is too often the mere
_tool_ of that officer, to the injury of his moral principles, and at
the expense of the health and life of too many of the prisoners.
Whereas if the physician held his office from the Legislature, he
would have power to _open_ and _shut_, which he has not now; and both
health and life, which are now lost, might be preserved.
The _Chaplain_, also, should hold his office from the highest source
in the state. In such a place, his is the most important office, and
he ought to have authority to do all things pertaining to it, without
any reference to the pleasure of a man who, perhaps, despises both
him and his office, and believes in no God higher than himself. The
gospel ought to be fully taught and explained, and exemplified by the
Chaplain; and he ought to be elevated, in his authority, above the
control of those who can now say to him--"Come at such a moment, or
not at all."
Another reason why the Legislature ought to appoint the Chaplain is,
that then, _sectarian policy_ would not have so much influence. The
Legislature is composed of members of all churches, and they would, as
they do their own chaplain, appoint without any reference to _sect_;
and then one man living in Windsor, could not consult the finances of
his own _party_, in appointing a clergyman for the prison.
The By-Laws of the prison have never been very materially altered,
since they were first composed. A copy of them is laid before the
Legislature every year, and being sanctioned by that body, they
become, virtually, the laws of the state for that Institution. They
are wisely adapted to the circumstances of the prison, and are as
merciful as they are wise; but they are disregarded, and never
adverted to but when they direct the infliction of punishment on the
prisoners. They are trampled under foot by every keeper and guard,
from the highest to the lowest. They are read once in every month to
the prisoners, but those parts which relate to the conduct of the
officers, are wisely omitted in reading, lest the prisoners should
know when _they_ err, and be able to convict them from the law. I do
not say this from conjecture, I know it; for the hand that is writing
this word, copied them every year, and I also read to the prisoners
the parts directed to be read; and I have often heard the keeper say,
that the prisoners ought _not_ to know what laws relate to the
officers. I shall have occasion, in the course of these sketches, to
quote largely from these By-Laws, and what has been written here will
suffice for my present purpose.
The prisoners go to their work at sunrise, and retire at sunset. They
have a task, and for what they do over it, they receive a
compensation. Their food is coarse, but good and wholesome. They wear
party-colored clothes, half green and half scarlet, and are kept
clean. They are not allowed to converse together while at work, nor
can they leave their employment and go into the yard, or any part of
the shop without permission of the keeper. When they are out of the
shops they are under the care of the guard on the wall, and they are
not suffered to ramble, but must do their errand and return into the
shop.
They can see their friends, when they call, in the presence of a
keeper, and write and receive letters, if they contain nothing
objected to by the Warden or head officer. They have such books as
they purchase for themselves, and once they had a social library,
which would have been more useful, if many very improper books had not
been in it. Why these were admitted, the guardians of the morals of
the place must answer. No newspapers were allowed to be introduced,
not even _religious_ ones; but tracts and religious pamphlets were not
objected to.
There is always a keeper in every shop while the prisoners are at
work, and he is armed with a sword. A guard is placed on the wall
during the day, armed with a gun, loaded with a ball and buck shot;
and at night there is one in the entrance of the prison to prevent
escapes.
Such is the general history of the prison up to 1830, when a new
prison, on the plan of solitary confinement, was erected. This
contains about one hundred and seventy small cells, in which the
prisoners are confined separately during the night. No radical
alteration, I apprehend, has been made in the government of the place,
in any other respect. The design of this change was, to prevent the
prisoners from corrupting each other's minds by social intercourse.
The principle laid down by the votaries of this plan, is, that vice
is contagious, and wicked men become worse by association. The more
abandoned, it is said, will draw down others to their own degree of
guilt, if permitted to associate together, and thus baffle all the
efforts of piety and virtue for their reformation. Hence the
presumptive necessity for a prison on a new construction, and hence
the prison for solitary confinement in Windsor. I _hope_ it will be so
managed as to prove a less curse to humanity than the old one, though
it is like hoping _against_ hope. In respect to its _reforming_
effect, I shall say more in another article; but I will remark here,
that reformation is a _moral_ work, and depends not on the _shape_ of
the person's _room_. It is a work of _mercy_, and nothing but mercy
can _effect_ it. Man is a social being, and the laws of his nature are
violated by dooming him to solitude. The genius of crime dwells in the
dark places of retirement, and always communes with its followers
_alone_. Social life, on the contrary, is the garden of every virtue,
in which nothing but flowers are permitted to flourish, and nothing
but good fruit permitted to ripen when properly cultivated.