The prisoners have many inducements to attempt their escape. The
eternal gloom that hangs over their minds--the regulations of their
unfeeling rulers--the instinctive love of every human soul to
liberty--and the deceptive appearance of the surrounding country, are
constantly tempting them to some violent or crafty scheme to elude the
grasp of their tormentors and be free. These, however, produce but
little effect on calculating minds; but they keep the _rash_, the
_young_, and the _romantic_ in a perpetual ferment; and I wonder that
more attempts, of this kind, have not been made. The various insults
of the keepers, are sometimes sufficient to inspire a rock with
indignation, and call up the dead to resentment. The walls appear a
trifling object when the mind is inflamed. What appears a boundless
forest, inhabited only by tigers and untrodden by man, comes within a
few rods of the prison, and nothing appears easier than to reach it.
Why, then, more attempts are not made to escape, is to be accounted
for only by presuming that the prisoners have more judgment than
rashness. I shall mention a few of the attempts of the prisoners to
effect their escape, for the purpose of making some remarks on them.
The first successful attempt of this kind, was made by a man named
Palmer. The prison wall was not finished, and he found means of
secreting himself, breaking off his fetters, and effecting his escape.
He was not absent, however, over a year, when he was apprehended and
brought back. He stayed _seven years_ after his return, and that
completed his sentence.
Another, though unsuccessful attempt, was made by a man named Fitch.
He went over the wall, and was fired on by the guard, the ball just
missing him. He got but a few rods when he was arrested and returned
to the prison. He was severely punished for his temerity.
An entire cell effected their escape one night by removing a large
stone; and they kept the freedom which they regained at so much peril.
At another time the hospital was broken, and an escape effected by
four individuals, in a way which evinced the greatest wisdom of
contrivance, and strength of limbs. Three of these got away, and one
returned.
Soon after this, a violent rush was made over the wall by five men,
who were determined to effect an escape by daylight. The guard fired
on them, and wounded one slightly. They enjoyed their liberty only a
few minutes, when they were all safely deposited in the solitary
cells. They were punished according to the laws of the prison, and I
know not that they ever found fault that they were punished too much.
A man named Banks contrived to escape one Sabbath, by climbing over
the wall, and he was successful in getting into Canada; but committing
a crime there and fleeing back into the state of Vermont, he was
apprehended on an advertisement, and remanded to Windsor. After three
or four years, he found means to repeat the same experiment, and like
the raven from the ark, he returned not again.
Another attempt was made to escape from a cell without success; and
another to force a flight over the wall. In this, one of the prisoners
fired one of the buildings, and brought down on his head a weight of
punishment that might have crushed the constitution of Lucifer. But he
survived it, and lives a pleasing evidence of the fact, that the
vilest of sinners may reform and become good men.
I know of no instance of attempts to escape, which might not have been
prevented by the keepers. If they had done their duty, the chance of
success would have been so small, that no mind would have indulged the
thought for one moment. The guard can hear the least noise that is
made in the cells, and the keepers can see all that is going on in the
shops; and not an attempt has ever been made in which the officers
have not been more or less criminal. They are not attentive to their
duty. The guard often get asleep on the wall, and the keepers in the
shops; and on these occasions the prisoners calculate and act, without
which they would do neither.
But this is not the extent of the keepers' guilt. They not only nod on
their posts, they also permit the plans of the prisoners to ripen into
effect, when they know them, that they may shed blood, rivet fetters,
and take life. Witness the case of P. Fane. Every incident in the
history of that place, which fell under my notice, left an idea on my
mind, that a _quorum_ of the keepers and guard are always contriving
to multiply the miseries of the prisoners; and while I saw them
sinning daily with impunity, in the sight of their superiors and of
each other, and at the same time tormenting the convicts for the
merest nothing, I often exclaimed in the language of Jacob--"O! my
soul, come not thou into their secret, unto their assembly, mine
honour, be not thou united."
The same process of cruelty often drives the convicts to desperation,
and the commission of crimes which could exist under no other
circumstances. They are often provoked to the utterance of harsh and
angry expressions, for which they are sure to suffer. Sometimes they
are driven through despair to the sick bed of a remediless delirium,
and to the revolting recklessness of self-destruction. One of these
instances I have already given in the case of Levett. The same attempt
was made by Plumley, but he was discovered in season to save his life
for more suffering, and for death by other hands. Several other
attempts of the same kind transpired through the intolerable and
incessant oppressions and aggravated inhumanity of the "powers that
were." But the two who I am going to mention, effected their dreadful
object, and I shall give each of them a brief notice.
Woodbury was a man of feeble mind, but of very acute feelings and
volatile spirits. To every nerve of his heart liberty was dear, and he
was equally sensitive to his separation from his friends whom he
tenderly loved. Scarcely had he entered the prison when his
countenance began to indicate disease, and very soon he became a mere
skeleton. His complaint assumed no definite character, and he could
get no medicine to help him. In this condition he was kept at the most
laborious work, and compelled to do his task. Anticipating the result,
and dreading the usual passage to the grave amid the neglect, abuse,
and insults of the keepers, he resolved on cutting short his
sufferings and dying by his own hands. Accordingly he retired to his
cell and hung himself--leaving on a slate this direction--"I wish you
would open me, doctor Trask." This direction was complied with, but
the doctor reported no indications of disease. That he was, however,
sick, every prisoner and keeper knew; and that the fatal act was the
consequence of the neglect of his keepers, and the cruelty of the
master workman, is no problem with me, nor will it be with others,
when every secret thing shall be made manifest.
Ham was a young man, whose prospects had been blighted in their bud,
and a gloomy expression had settled on his countenance, which it was
difficult to remove, even for a moment. His every look seemed audibly
to say--"I am ruined!" He was a close observer of what passed, and
when a convict was seen by him going into punishment, he would fall
into an absence and reverie; and looking at times towards the walls
and the green fields beyond them, the tear would gather in his eyes to
tell the burden of his soul. His prison, he often said, looked like a
resting place for eternity. Life became a burden to him, and he ended
it by suicide.