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THE PRISON CHAPLAINCY,
AND ITS EXPERIENCES.
BY REV. HOSEA QUINBY, D. D.,
EX-CHAPLAIN OF N. H. STATE PRISON.
IN TWO PARTS.
CONCORD, N. H.:
PUBLISHED BY D. L. GUERNSEY
BOOKSELLER AND STATIONER.
1873.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
D. L. GUERNSEY,
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
MORNING STAR STEAM JOB PRINTING HOUSE,--DOVER, N. H.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
UNDER THE REFORMATORY SYSTEM.
1. Emotions at the Idea of Assuming the Position, and Object of these
Pages, 7
2. Our First Meeting for Worship, 8
3. The Sabbath School, 10
4. General Appearance of the Convicts, 11
5. The Warden, 11
6. Educational Means found in Operation, 12
7. Influence Left by the Former Chaplain, 13
8. Prison Order, 13
9. Chaplain's Routine of Duty, 14
10. General Description of the Prison and Prison Management, 15
11. General Remarks upon the Prisoners, 22
12. Prayer-meetings Commenced, 25
13. Pike, the Hampton Murderer, 28
14. Doctrinal Discourses, 34
15. Effect of the Prayer-meeting on Prison Order, 34
16. The New Chapel, 35
17. Prison Repairs and Mistakes, 36
18. Profanity Attacked, 37
19. Efforts for a Son, from a Mother's Plea, 38
20. Warden's Efforts for a Young Man, 40
21. Experience with noble appearing Heads in Prison, 42
22. The Warden Admits Presents to Prisoners from Friends Outside, 44
23. Warden Decides to Resign, 45
24. Prisoners' Anxiety at the Rumored Resignation, 47
25. Governor and Council Memorialized by the Prison S. S. Teachers and
Chaplain, 48
26. Prison Funerals, 49
27. Educational and Sabbath school summing up, 49
28. Religious Success, 51
29. Fourth of July at the Prison, 52
30. The true Principle of Imprisoning and Prison Managing--on the Idea
of Reform in the Convict, 53
31. The Commutation System, 59
32. Chaplain's Proposed Attempt at Tobacco Reform, 60
PART II.
UNDER THE PUNITIVE AND MONEY-MAKING SYSTEM.
1. Warden Chosen, and new Arrangements for the Chaplain, 61
2. Chaplain almost Resolved to Resign, but Decides to Continue and
Arranges his Work, 64
3. Cells Cleared of Trinket-making and Tracts, 65
4. Necessity for the Chaplain's Undertaking what He Did, 65
5. New Phase at the Prison, and the Chaplain's Efforts, 66
6. Sabbath School Commences, 69
7. The Warden's Views Considered, 69
8. Chaplain's Restrictions, 73
9. Prisoner's Aid Association, 76
10. Complaint of Prison Hunger, 76
11. Chaplain's Object in hearing from Released Prisoners and Others, 77
12. B. and E.'s request, and the Connected Abuse, 78
13. Alleged Prison Conspiracy, 80
14. National Prison Reform Congress, 81
15. Money-making and Punishing, the Paramount Objects in our Prison
Management, 83
16. Waste Paper in the Cells, 83
17. Defective Beds and Bedding, 84
18. Cracked Wheat Dinner, 86
19. Bad Fish, &c., 87
20. Prison Suffering from Cold During the Winter of '70 and '71, 88
21. Lighting the Hall, 93
22. The Aid of the Association to Released Prisoners, and Warden's
Course, 94
23. Lecturing for the Prison Aid Association, 99
24. Prison Correspondence under the New Rule, 100
24 1-2. Chaplain under a System of Espionage, 102
25. The Chaplain's Pacific Efforts severely Taxed, 104
26. Death of Gideon Sylver, 109
27. The Sylver Case Excitement and Hearing before the Governor and
Council, 115
28. Preparing for the Adjourned Session, 118
29. The Adjourned Hearing, 120
30. Motives for Desiring the Chaplain's Removal, 122
31. Chaplain's Change of Course, and the Question as to who should
Conduct the Prison Correspondence, 124
32. Change, for a Time, in the Warden's Management, 127
33. The Fate of Henry Stewart and others, 129
34. Warden's Want of Courtesy to Prisoners' Visitors, 132
35. Effects of the new Order upon the Prisoners, 133
36. Comparative Prison Order for the two years, 139
37. Good Traits in the Warden for Prison Service, 143
38. Chaplain's Inability to Prevent Knowing more or less of the
Prisoners' Troubles and the Prison Management, 143
39. Secular School Success, 144
40. Sabbath School Success, 147
41. Religious Success, 149
42. Lack of Truthfulness at the Prison, 149
43. Reported Quarrel between the Warden and Chaplain, 151
44. Prison Report for '71, 153
45. Efforts of the Prison Aid Association for Legislation in Favor of
the Prison, 163
46. Experience with the new Government, 169
47. Chaplain Determines to Have an Investigation into the Charges
against Him, 170
48. Anniversary of P. A. Association for '71, and remarks on our Jails,
171
49. Fourth of July at the Prison in '71, 173
50. Chaplain's Removal from Office, 174
51. Prison Fare under the new Government, 176
52. The Warden Question, 177
53. Experience at the Prison subsequent to Dismissal, 178
54. Prison Report for '72, 181
55. International Penitentiary Congress, London, July 3-13, '72, 188
Conclusion, 197
THE PRISON CHAPLAINCY.
PART I.
UNDER THE REFORMATORY SYSTEM.
1. _Emotions at the idea of assuming the position, and object of these
pages._ The proposal of friends that I become chaplain of our State
Prison at first struck me with much disfavor, from the idea that the
position, instead of affording the encouragement and satisfaction
attendant upon my former labors in schools and churches, must be up-hill
work, and repulsive to the finer feelings of the heart. Still, having
been no little accustomed to laying aside personal tastes and
conveniences for the good of others, I yielded, and commenced the work
on the first Sabbath in July, 1869.
The experience gained in this connection, with the hints and suggestions
on collateral subjects, is set forth in the following pages, not for the
purpose of personal notoriety, but for the sake of correcting important
misconceptions by giving the true facts, and making a humble effort
towards awaking in the public mind a deeper interest on a subject in
which every citizen should feel a concern, and on which he should
become duly informed, and thus be prepared to act intelligently. For
this preparation he needs light, which light the real working of things,
properly set forth, would surely give. Experience is ever regarded as
the best school-master, the proper touchstone to all our theories.
Never was the community more widely and deeply stirred than now on the
questions, "What course will prove the most corrective of crime with the
least public burden? What is the true method of managing penal
institutions?"
These are questions of no trifling moment, questions which bear largely
on the public weal. From the days of Howard, the philanthropist, they
have been rising in the public estimate, now to stand among the more
prominent of the age.
On these, widely differing theories are brought face to face in earnest
antagonism; some contending for the sterner type of the vindictive, for
rendering the condition of the wrong doer as repulsive as possible, thus
to terrify him from erring,--others contending that they have found a
better and more effective way in humane, reform, gospel
efforts,--efforts prompted by the principles of enlightened
Christianity.
The writer, while touching upon a somewhat wide range of points, will
constantly aim at as great brevity in statement as may be consistent
with perspicuity, go into detail only so far as shall appear needful to
the end in view, and feel amply compensated for his labors, if the
developments and suggestions here made shall in any degree aid the cause
of prison reform.
2. _Our first meeting for worship._ In assembling, while the ladies and
gentlemen, admitted from the city, were taking their places at my left
and front, the female prisoners were being arranged at my right, closely
facing the wall, with the matron and assistant beside them, that they
might not indulge in looking about upon others, for such an act was held
as a misdemeanor. This done, and the south door securely bolted, that
leading to the hall was unbarred, and the male prisoners, some one
hundred and twenty, were marched in by divisions and regular file,
taking their seats with perfect order before me, and filling every
available foot of otherwise unoccupied space in that small and ill
ventilated room called "the chapel," thus packing it as closely
apparently as could be.
What a sensation thrilled every nerve on this my first experience in
attempting to dispense the gospel, thus locked within walls of granite
and iron, with a military guard at each window ready to deal summarily
with any who should attempt escape, or commit a disorderly act. Then
what mingled emotions of sorrow and pity at the thought of so great an
amount of talent present, which had been devoted to crime, and the
depths to which their iniquities had sunk the wrong doers,--enough to
make angels weep.
The singing by the prison choir, a young lady of the city presiding at
the instrument, was exhilarating, voices good, all in time, and movement
spirited, the whole having a peculiar charm. Many a choir outside might
have listened with advantage. The Scripture reading was responsive, the
chaplain repeating a verse and then the audience. As the speaker
commenced his sermon, every convict's eye was fastened upon him,
apparently with the deepest interest, continuing thus to the close.
This fixed attention, with all the connected circumstances, acted as a
powerful stimulus to his intellect and heart, causing thoughts and
words to flow almost unbidden, and those of a peculiar unction, thus
rendering preaching in the place easy. The numerous moistened eyes and
earnest countenances seemed plainly to say, "Here are minds responsive
to the truth, a field which can be cultivated for God and humanity."
Those anticipated feelings of repulsion did not arise, but rather the
assurance that success and pleasure would attend a faithful dispensing
of the word for reforming and elevating the prisoner in his bonds, as
well as in efforts to save sinners under more favorable surroundings.
3. _The Sabbath School._ This met Sabbath afternoon in two places, the
females, eight in number, in their work room, with the matron and other
ladies who might attend from the city as teachers; the males in the
chapel, a number of Christian ladies and gentlemen from outside
attending and hearing classes, some having long been laborers here in
the work, one having, years previous, helped set the school in
operation. The toils of these earnest workers were evidently being
blessed, under God, to the good of their pupils, producing impressions
upon some, which greatly aided them in their efforts at reform. My
attendance was with the latter, and the interest was fully equal to that
I had witnessed in the forenoon worship.
The prisoners were required to attend the latter, while the Sabbath
school attendance was left to the inmates as a voluntary matter, and yet
some ninety males attended this, about three-fourths of the whole
company from which the audience was usually drawn,--a much larger
percentage probably than any outside congregation can boast of.
4. _General appearance of the convicts._ Judging from appearance as they
sat in the assembly, a few were evidently hard cases, narrow-minded,
sordid, ugly. To a number, dame Nature had dealt bountifully on the
score of mind, they having noble foreheads, and bright, sparkling eyes,
indicative of no small natural ability. One would think that some of
these would have shone conspicuously in any of the learned professions,
business circles, or common industries of life had they bent their minds
in the right direction. Certain visitors at the prison and State House,
in time of the legislative session, were wicked enough to say that they
found the likelier appearing company at the former place. Other inmates
partook more of the low cunning, the artful, leading them to accomplish
their ends by more adroit means, while a small number seemed bordering
on insanity, two on idiocy.
In dealing with these, as a whole, while at large, no doubt the police
had found their own shrewdness, at times, keenly taxed, and been made to
feel that they were called to grapple with mind worthy of a better
cause.
5. _The warden._ He was found to be a man of generous impulses, an
earnest Christian worker, with a heart full of kindness, professing to
act for the prisoners' highest good. He would furnish them with enough
of suitable food, good clothing and bedding, all needed care in
sickness, with the requisite means for mental, moral and religious
improvement, fully believing in the practicability of labor to reform
the wayward and elevate the fallen, that reform is the primary purpose
of the institution. As one great means to this, he seemed to feel it
needful that the inmates be kept under strict, wholesome discipline,
and required at all times, when able, to perform their tasks fully and
faithfully.
He was accustomed to hold correspondence with other prison officers of
like faith with himself on prison management, and profited by any
feasible hints thus gained. His motto was, "Keep the prisoners on good
fare, provide them all needed means for reform and make all the money
practicable from the prison as subordinate to these."
6. _Educational means found in operation._ By the combined effort of the
warden and my predecessor, what we may term a secular school had been
established in the chapel, to be held evenings, in sessions of one hour
each, as often as a guard could be spared from other prison duties. This
was voluntary on the part of these gentlemen, and was intended to be
open for all the male prisoners of good behavior to attend, and take
such of the common branches as each should need.
The legislature had so far recognized the move as to vote the chaplain
an increase of salary in consideration of his labors as teacher in the
school. But here it stopped, and that short of its full duty. It ought
to have gone further, and made the thing a fixed fact, obligatory upon
all prison officers, as really as our common school system outside is
upon town officers. Why not? The State has taken the convicts under her
care as wards, moved them from their vicious surroundings, and put them
where, with a little additional painstaking on her part, many of these
may be led to the daily habit of devoting their otherwise idle or
squandered moments to storing up valuable ideas for future use, a long
step towards their true reform.
As leading in the same direction, these gentlemen had adopted the custom
of having occasional lectures in the chapel for the men by outside
speakers, also readings by a lady elocutionist, and meetings for
instruction and drill in singing.
7. _Influence left by the former chaplain._ This influence was of a
highly salutary character among the prisoners. A number would feelingly
refer to his efforts for their best being, and from which they had been
constantly striving to profit. Some professed to have experienced a
change of heart under his ministration, and were still living in the
exercise of daily Bible reading and prayer, being obedient prisoners,
duly attentive to all the prison rules, and in good repute among the
officers of the institution. They continued thus till leaving prison,
and had not fallen from their integrity when last heard from. Eternity
alone can unfold the amount of good secured to those once degraded men
by these efforts.
8. _Prison order._ While intent on reform measures, we were not for a
moment to lose sight of the strictest order. The warden would have the
rounds for this carefully observed, that no risk should be run with
regard to the safe keeping of the prisoners and their due observance of
the rules. Hence, the chaplain was not allowed to hold his school in the
chapel for instructing the men, or have any gathering of prisoners there
without a guard. Then, previous to their admittance, we were required to
be certain that the south door to the chapel was securely fastened, and
the key, for safe keeping, passed through an opening to the guard-room.
And when the exercises were ended, and the men secured in their cells,
on a given signal, the keeper of the key would open for our release.
This order was not to be deviated from under any circumstances. From
this fact, had the prisoners, at any time, risen in rebellion,
overpowered the guard and chaplain, they would have found no means in
the room for escaping. Or had any professed goodness, or pretended to a
great desire for education with the hope of being taken to the chapel
under circumstances favorable to their getting away, they would have
found it of no avail. Good or bad, professedly reformed or not, all were
treated alike in this respect. And, so far as I had the opportunity of
observation, the same strictness was observed in all other departments
of the prison.
True, one escaped, but from no lack of internal watchfulness or order.
His time had almost expired, he having been a faithful, obedient,
well-disposed prisoner. The warden set him at work doing chores about
the stable and outer yard, not supposing that he would leave for so
short a period, and thereby forfeit his commutation and render himself
liable to be returned at any time through life. But after serving here a
few days he absconded.
9. _Chaplain's routine of duty._ In this were embraced, not only the
Sabbath morning service and the Sabbath school care, but also visiting
the cells for giving words of advice, visiting the hospital for
imparting religious consolation, managing the secular school, changing
the library books for the inmates, Saturdays, learning, from the
prisoners, enough of their past history to enable him to judge of the
instruction adapted to each, and, in fine, to speak such words here and
there as would conduce to the requisite order. This gave a wide range,
an important field. I seemed to have returned to my school keeping days;
and found my long habit of reading human nature in students of no little
use, aiding me to understand the best manner of approaching each so as
to gain his confidence. Also my custom in school discipline, which had
at times been complained of as being too strict, now served an excellent
purpose, prompting me, at every step, to move in decided contrariety to
all irregularity and disorder.
10. _General description of the prison and prison management._ The old
part of the prison was erected in 1812, favored by Mason, Woodbury and
other distinguished men of that day, the avowed purpose being to have an
institution where the criminals of the State could be gathered and put
under reformatory influences. Thus it appears that the idea of reform
was a fundamental one in the founding of the establishment. Some years
since the north wing, for the male prisoners, was erected, which is
three-storied and contains 120 cells, each about three and one-half feet
wide, seven feet long and seven high, the bedsteads being of iron and
made to turn up. The south wing, or old part, contains a tenement for
the deputy and cells for the female prisoners.
The warden occupies the main building, or middle part. Here, too, are
the cook room for the male prisoners, the chapel, the office, guard
room, hospital, dormitories for the guards and overseers, and the
reception room, in which the library is kept.
The prison yard is surrounded on three sides by a granite wall, perhaps
sixteen feet high, the prison itself constituting the wall on the fourth
side. In the yard are two buildings of brick, each two stories high, one
much larger than the other: the smaller, on its lower floor, affording a
wash-room, tailor's shop, &c., the second story and attic rooms used for
storage or any needed mechanical purpose, sometimes as shoe shops; the
larger building is devoted to bedstead manufacturing, the machinery
driven by steam.
From this engine these two buildings are warmed by means of steam pipes,
the boiling in the wash-room being done by the same. The hall is
furnished with a steam boiler, which not only warms that, but also the
guard and reception rooms, and the chapel, and the steam is used in the
men's cook room, all other warming and heating in the prison being done
by wood fires. To economize fuel as much as possible, a steam pipe has
been extended from the engine room to the prison to conduct the waste
steam of the shop boilers for use in those apartments.
The female prisoners eat at a table in the warden's kitchen and from the
same food as goes to his own table. The men have a prescribed diet,
called rations, the allowance of each being dealt out in a tin
basin,--meat, potatoes, gravy, &c., all together, the potatoes unpared.
Coffee is given in a tin dipper. The meals being ready, the men are
marched through an entry by a long table standing contiguous to the
kitchen and loaded with their rations, each taking what belongs to him,
carrying it to his cell and partaking in solitude. Their mode of eating
is quite a curiosity. They generally use their beds for tables, and each
has a knife, fork and spoon in his cell of which he takes the exclusive
care. He fishes out his potatoes and pares them; but where shall he put
the parings, dripping as they are? He has no extra dish. Then how shall
he wash his knife, fork and spoon? He can use his tongue, for he has
nothing else, and he may or may not have a towel on which to wipe them,
but his jacket sleeve or pants' leg is wonderfully convenient.
What a dehumanizing system! Why not let the men eat at tables the same
as the women, and have some decency about the matter? Then how much
better in another respect. By the present system, rations must be dealt
out to all alike, giving the same quantity to each, with the result of
having more or less food returned or a part not have enough, some eating
more than others. But if at a table, each can eat as he needs, and thus
avoid suffering or waste.
The men are provided with means for ablution by a few bathing-troughs in
their wash-room. An old man gave me quite an amusing description of the
operation, thus: "The bathing department here is a wonderful
institution. They will march a file of men into the wash-room, old and
young together, fill the troughs with water, put in a little soap, then
a nigger or two to grease it with; when done, the men must strip and go
in one after another. A wonderful institution! I never would go that."
The female prisoners are employed in mending and making apparel for the
men, and in domestic labors in the family apartment. The feeble men are
employed in light work about the hall, such as dusting, carrying water
to the cells, whitewashing, sweeping, &c., or in repairing clothes. Two
able-bodied men are required in the cook room, another in the wash-room
and to do chores, and part of the time still another. The remaining men
are let to a contractor, who pays a stipulated price per day for each
when he works.
The needed officers to the institution are the warden, deputy,
physician, chaplain, hospital steward, four overseers, four guards, and
two night watchmen, fifteen at least. All of these must be paid from the
prison earnings. When to this is added the cost for supporting the
prisoners, the ordinary repairs, printing the Report and annual
apprisal, we have the net prison gain. But the outsets, with the
strictest economy, must always of necessity be large, showing that crime
is an important drawback to industry and thrift.
When I commenced my labors at the institution, it was about emerging
from an experience which had brought no little opposition to the warden
from some in the city, especially in the line of his reform moves.
He took the prison in '65, the inmates, numbering seventy, being let on
a contract of forty cents per day; the bedding extremely limited; the
cells swarming with those pestiferous attendants on sleeping hours,
every crevice between the stones and bricks affording a safe resort; the
food for the inmates insufficient for prison demands.
He at once commenced a war of extermination in the cells. Having secured
a change of bedding, and taking a division at a time, he would remove
all the articles for washing and boiling, and inject burning fluid into
the cracks and crevices, setting fire to it, and thus literally burning
out each apartment. He found it essential to renew this attack, however,
as months rolled round.
Finding, from the best authority at hand on prison fare, that it is not
safe to run the supply to a man lower than twenty cents per day in cost
for the raw material as the market usually is, and that flour bread is
an economical food for prisoners, as well as being humane, he resolved
to adopt this with a diet commensurate with nature's real demands,
built a baker's oven, and hired a baker for instructing certain selected
inmates in the art of baking, and established the daily supply seen in
the Bill of Fare at the end of this article. Under the head of
"vegetables" are embraced all the articles commonly used as such on our
tables,--onions, beets, carrots, parsnips, turnips and cabbage. Not,
however, using all at any one meal.
In the chapel service the warden gave the prisoners liberty to look upon
the speaker,--a great relief from the former downcast method,--and the
chaplain introduced the responsive manner of reading, denounced by some
as a most dangerous innovation. The Sabbath school was held the year
round, instead of simply during the session of the legislature, and a
few months beside.
But it required close calculation and strict economy with the warden to
meet the current expenses with the wages of forty cents per day to a
man, though he did that and gained a little.
The war ending, the tide began to set towards the institution,
increasing the number in '66 to 111, '67 to 118, and '68 to 135, the
highest number ever reached by the institution. The current then turned,
the prisoners numbering in '69, 129, and in '70, 118.
In '67 the authorities relet the prisoners at ninety cents per day
instead of forty, a great advance, brightening the financial prosperity
of the institution. But in doing this they had to make a great outlay in
enlarging the shop, obtaining a new engine, boilers, &c. There were,
also, important repairs, with improvements in the drainage and
ventilation, made.
These outlays were mostly made by the warden, the Governor, for the
time, assenting and advising. In '69 the Governor and council relieved
the warden of all financial responsibility, appointing one of their
number to act as prison agent, and make the purchases and meet the
outlays at the prison, in which year they put a new roof to the south
wing and made other important alterations and repairs. From the
legislative grants and prison earnings all these expenses were met, and
the year closed with the institution free of debt, in good repair, and
with all needed labor appliances, which was a great relief to all having
the care and responsibility of the concern, rendering the task of
keeping things tidy and in comfortable order much easier than formerly.
It is better and more economical for the State. That constant patching
up and fixing over in numerous places, swallowing up money, no one
hardly knowing how, is now nearly ended, permitting the real gains of
the institution to accumulate and stand prominently in view, though
everything there is not quite perfection yet.
The drainage and ventilation were found very defective and in bad order,
but by the remodeling are made as good, perhaps, as can be in the
situation.
In this general fitting up, the prison officers and men voluntarily
contributed to quite an extent, of which no account anywhere appears,
though the State enjoys the gain. In the summer and fall of '69 and the
spring of '70, I frequently saw the deputy, out of the usual work hours,
going with squads of men to labor on the sewers or wherever they could
advantageously.
The prison is lighted by gas. In the hall the burners, thirty-two in
number, are placed along the outer walls, each from eight to ten or
twelve feet from a cell, but being old and leaking badly, they give a
poor light, the bars to the cells casting shadows on the books or papers
the prisoners may attempt to read. Hence, one of the governors ordered
candles to be furnished to the cells extra when desired. These were so
extensively called for that in '69 the gas had been largely dispensed
with for the candles.
In case a prisoner is attempting to run away, or is rising upon an
officer, the officers are held at liberty to shoot, knock down, or use
whatever means may be needed in self-defense or in preventing their
escape. Otherwise prison rule does not allow an officer to strike a man,
but he must be punished by the solitary or ball and chain at the
discretion of the warden, who found it needful to use no little
precaution as to the length of the former, "for too great severity in
that tended to insanity on the part of the punished."
In letting the prisoners on contract, the State furnishes the shop to
the contractor rent free, also the motive power, shafting and belting,
keeping these in repair.
In managing the prisoners, each officer has his assigned position and
duty, and everything is conducted with a precision closely approximating
that of a military character.
The south door to the chapel, spoken of, opens to the female part in the
south wing and to the pass-way down two nights of stairs and out of
doors.
BILL OF FARE
_At New Hampshire State Prison._
SUNDAY:
_Breakfast_--Baked beans, brown bread, and coffee.
_Supper_--Rice pudding, brown bread, and coffee.
MONDAY:
_Breakfast_--Flour bread, brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Corned beef, vegetables, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour bread, molasses, and coffee.
TUESDAY:
_Breakfast_--Corned beef, warm brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Codfish, potatoes, butter gravy, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour bread, molasses, and coffee.
WEDNESDAY:
_Breakfast_--Fish hash, brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Fresh beef soup with vegetables, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour bread, molasses, and coffee.
THURSDAY:
_Breakfast_--Meat hash, brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Stewed peas with pork, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour bread, molasses, and coffee.
FRIDAY:
_Breakfast_--Meat hash, warm brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Baked fresh fish or chowder, potatoes, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour broad, molasses, and coffee.
SATURDAY:
_Breakfast_--Meat hash, brown bread, and coffee.
_Dinner_--Fresh beef soup with vegetables, and brown bread.
_Supper_--Flour bread, molasses, and coffee.
11. _General remarks upon the prisoners._ When entering my service here,
the prison had more inmates than cells. Eight were females. The
community was reaping a sad harvest from the demoralizing effects of the
late war. Six or eight were U. S. prisoners.
All treated me with due respect. The most were easily approached, free
in conversation, readily giving account of themselves, admitting their
crimes and the justice of their sentences, which probably they would not
have done to one in whom they could not confide. A very few would plead
innocence, some, no doubt, rightfully; three probably having been
victims of fiendish plots. Two or three were very reticent, one saying,
"No one here shall ever know my real name, native place, or business of
life."
It was heart-sickening to listen to their tales of wrong and suffering,
clearly showing that "the way of the transgressor is hard." Sin has a
most debasing effect upon its victims. Three-fourths or more doubtless
came to prison directly or indirectly through strong drink. True, in
many cases, more remote causes lay back of this, a native inclination to
sin, loss of parents, parental neglect, family infidelity, vicious
associates, ignorance, Sabbath-breaking and the like. A very few had
used no strong drink. A large share were young, some mere boys on their
alternate sentence. Many, on entering, could neither read nor write.
The crimes were various, extending from the worst murder cases down to
the lower grades of iniquity, some perfectly fiendish, horrible. It
would seem impossible for men and women to do such deeds.
But these inmates were evidently not all the wrong doers of the State
who merited punishment. In a few cases, no doubt, the prosecutor rather
deserved the doom. Then there are those rum-sellers, keepers of billiard
saloons, gambling dens, and houses of ill fame, all inciting to crime.
Numbers of them stand really in the light of _particeps criminis_ to our
inmates, and perhaps were more deserving of this confinement. How long
will the people see this class making criminals of our sons and
brothers, yea, of our daughters and sisters too, and remain inactive?
Why do not the very stones cry out?
I found all the prominent religious persuasions here represented, from
the Universalist to the staid Quaker; a number had been Sabbath school
attendants, one quite an Advent speaker, who seemed positive he would be
able to convert us all to his notions could he have the stand for a
suitable time, a privilege he earnestly strove for. More came from the
Catholics than from any other sect, and more from the shoe-makers than
from any other business class.
When introducing the subject of personal piety to each, no little care
was required to bring it forward in such a manner that it should not
strike the mind repulsively, and thus fill it with needless prejudice,
but rather conciliate and convince, leading to free conversation upon
the subject. In this a great advantage would be gained.
The larger portion acceded to the just claims of religious truth upon
them, some hoping that their imprisonment was being sanctified to their
highest good. One feelingly said, "I was swiftly floating on the stream
of sin and corruption towards that awful gulf in which I must have
landed ere this, had not the prison walls caught and saved me, as I
trust." Some I found professing a belief in infidelity, a few in real
atheism.
As weeks passed on, it became evident that something beyond human power
was at work in the minds of a few. Personal conversation developed the
fact that they were really and seriously considering their ways. A case
of much hope would occasionally present itself. "But," says one, "these
fellows were professing this with the hope of getting out."
That could not have been the case with some, most surely, as their term
had nearly expired and they neither asked nor looked for a pardon. The
work must have been genuine with these, if not with all. Nor could I see
any reason to doubt the sincerity of any, and I scrutinized closely.
The classification of prisoners, as to their crimes, affords an
interesting subject. It will be largely found that the wrong doing of
each is of a specific character rather than a general. Thus that of one
is simply in the line of murder; that of another, robbery; of a third,
stealing, or picking pockets, acting the burglar, assaulting female
character, or of whatever sort. Then, thieves can be classified into
horse thieves, sheep stealers, leather thieves, watch and money thieves,
and so on.
Some commit crimes only when influenced by strong drink, and then steal,
quarrel or murder. Many can not help their wrong doing, or will not, and
therefore should remain in prison, where they can live as very good men,
and aid the State instead of cursing society by their wrong deeds.
They do not all steal for the gain, but for the sake of stealing. Hence
here is one who will hoard up his booty and never go to it afterwards. I
asked an old man, a burglar, what induced him to lead such a life, and
received this answer: "There is something peculiarly exciting in the
engagements. I never engaged in it for what I could obtain."
12. _Prayer meetings commenced._ Previous to the present fall, no prayer
meetings had been established at the prison, the need of which we now
greatly felt. After much thought on the matter, I asked the warden if we
could not introduce them, and he answered, "Oh no, that can't be. There
are so many hypocrites among the prisoners, who would take advantage to
say what they might choose, and to the disgust of the others, that we
can not control the matter." This came from no lack of interest in the
subject, for it was the very thing that had found a large place in his
contemplations and desires, though he had seen no time when he could
feel it safe to take the step. Not being able to put the idea out of
mind, I soon brought it before him again, but in connection with the
Sabbath school teachers. After duly considering the pros and cons, the
question was decided thus,--"Start such a meeting, to be held weekly, if
found practicable. Next Sabbath let each teacher, when hearing his
class, select such of the number as he may think fitted for the
exercise; passing the names to the warden for him to invite them in at
his discretion, the meeting to commence the following Monday evening."
To prepare their minds for the occasion, the discourse, the next
Sabbath, was on hypocrisy, the text being the account of Ananias and
Sapphira, with the attempt to point out the enormity and danger of that
sin, that the truly sincere should not be kept from duty by hypocrisy as
seen in others, or by being accused of it in themselves by the
malicious. At the close, the warden, grasping my hand, said, "We will
let all go in who choose. We will make no selection," and we appointed
the meeting accordingly.
Met at the time appointed, nearly one hundred being present, for it was
a novel matter there. In the commencement I clearly stated what would be
expected of all who might engage in prayer or speaking, referring to the
subject of the sermon the past day, and said that the opportunity was
offered for those only to improve who sincerely desired to become better
and were truly determined to act accordingly, expressing the full
conviction that none would presume to come forward under any
hypocritical pretenses.
A few of the Sabbath school teachers present took part to good
acceptance. Then two or three of the inmates offered prayer, and three
or four spoke of their feelings and desires. They could not have been
more appropriate in their words, spirit, or manner. To all appearances
they were sincere.
Perfect order prevailed,--a most profound and respectful attention. Much
of the time the dropping of a pin upon the floor could have been heard.
An overpowering spirit seemed to pervade the room, not so much in the
words uttered as in the convictions of each man's own heart, it was an
impressive season. How was my soul relieved at this triumph over our
fears and rejoiced at the way God had evidently opened before us.
Thus the meetings commenced and that too indicating, as the first
results, the very blessing I had been hoping and praying for, a deeper
impressiveness to our Sabbath and other religious efforts. Shortly
after, we found that hearts not sensibly touched before, were being
deeply impressed, among them one of the worst cases perhaps in prison.
It was taking a new start in the right direction.
In laboring with these men now, as at all times, I felt that a great
responsibility rested on me; that this was no place for dealing softly,
petting them with insinuations that they had been more sinned against
than sinning, and that nothing was needed for them but a professed
determination to amend, with a few efforts in that direction. Duty
seemed imperative that I should labor to bring the wrong doings of each
as clearly and impressively as could be before him, how deeply he had
sinned against his own best good, his fellows and his God, enforcing the
absolute necessity of true repentance, and turning to the right through
faith in Christ; that he must make a thorough, radical work of the
matter, or it would avail nothing. Thus plainly, yet coupled with a
feeling heart, I invariably met the prisoners on these subjects. And
where no evidence could be found of a realizing sense of sins committed
and true compunction therefor, we could found no hope in the case.
13. _Pike, the Hampton murderer._ On entering, I found him in prison,
not at work, but confined to his cell according to our present law,
that, when one is condemned to execution, he shall be confined in the
State Prison one year, at the end of which the sentence shall be carried
out, unless receiving a reprieve or commutation.
By law also, the criminal has the right to choose his own spiritual
adviser, and, much to my relief, I found that Pike had arranged with my
predecessor about this before he left. Still I volunteered to the doomed
man all the aid in my power, for which he appeared highly grateful.
The plea of insanity had been used on the trial, or that the accused was
in a state of mind, when committing the offense, that rendered him
irresponsible for the crime alleged, which plea Pike would ever make to
me, sometimes alluding to the great injustice of his being hung. But as
Mr. Holman had undertaken to fathom that, I never pressed him with any
particular inquiry on the matter.
It would seem impossible for one manifesting the spirit Pike always did
to us, to commit so horrid a crime, and probably he never would had he
been free from rum. In prison, he at all times appeared gentlemanly and
kind-hearted, helped me a number of days in repairing the library, and
seemed glad of the opportunity.
When laboring with those he afterwards murdered, he was uniformly
pleasant, ready to do anything for them they needed. They parted on the
most friendly terms, the old people earnestly urging him to continue
with them still longer.
But when Pike was under the influence of liquor, he was a very different
man, and at times a highly dangerous character. In this he was fully
responsible, for he could have let the drink alone, and did when he
chose. I saw nothing leading me to doubt his full responsibility in the
murder. But others also are responsible,--those who helped him to his
liquor and thus caused his madness. Against them, also, the blood of
those mangled forms cries loudly from the ground to a righteous God for
vengeance. The community likewise, which, by supineness and inactivity,
permitted those persons to carry on their nefarious traffic, must come
in for its share. The blame of that startling act does not all lie at
Pike's door, though he was guilty enough.
When I attempted to urge upon him the importance of a full preparation
for the dread event before him, he seemed strangely inclined to put it
off and almost callous to the magnitude of his sin. He would admit that
his career had been one of desperate wickedness, but did not appear
truly moved in spirit by its real enormity, or as having genuine
repentance over the matter, a thorough breaking up of the fallow ground
of the heart. Trusting to the idea of his non-responsibility as a
shielding circumstance, he no doubt felt almost perfect confidence, till
near the last, that a pardon, or commutation, would be granted, and
ventured on that assurance. I constantly discouraged the idea,
repeatedly urging him to put no confidence in that, but earnestly to set
about a preparation for the worst. The final decision of the executive
power, not to interfere with the decision of the court, came to me, but
in such a way that I was not at liberty to announce it till officially
divulged. Still, feeling so anxious for the criminal, I went as far as
the circumstances would allow, and said to him, "From what I hear, your
case is finally decided, but not in your favor. And I am perfectly
satisfied that my information is reliable." But it was not official, and
the very fact of its being withheld inspired him with hope that I was
mistaken.
The rulers, no doubt, did as they thought best in the matter, but it
would seem that there was an error on their part in not communicating
their finality to the criminal as soon as made. It was a grave matter to
him, and the last few days he reflected no little upon the course.
In our labors with the doomed man, we had two prominent points before
us, one to fit his mind for going upon the gallows with the needed
fortitude, the other to lead him to a due preparation for appearing
before his God. During the last week, by his desire, clergymen from the
city visited him. A few of the singers from the city, also, by the
warden's invitation, occasionally called and spent a short time with
him, singing some of those devotional pieces so well fitted to his case,
which were followed by prayer and then all retired. His cell was now in
the hall. This occurred when the other prisoners were in the shop at
work, for at no other time were visitors allowed at his cell. Two or
three of his last days were spent in the hospital, which then had no
sick occupant. The strictest care and watchfulness were observed by the
officers, so that, whether in his cell or in the hospital, he could not
possibly escape if he attempted it.
The day appointed for the execution was Tuesday. Monday the criminal
frankly admitted to his adviser, that he knew what he was doing that
terrible night, and was fully responsible for the deed, which
acknowledgment he signed in writing. He also dictated a letter to his
youngest brother, faithfully warning him against following his own ways
of wildness and drinking, also a note containing good advice to two
young men who had been officers in the prison, and finally an address to
be read on the scaffold. Brothers and other relatives took leave of him
Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning.
The fatal hour was fixed at eleven, A. M. Pike was up in due season,
took a slight morning repast, dressed for the day, had devotional
exercises, and finished parting with friends at nine, that he might have
opportunity for becoming duly rested and composed in mind for that
painful occasion. At ten the other officers retired, leaving him alone
with us two. What an hour before us? I had never experienced the like
before and hope never to again. It was much like standing on the
crumbling verge of time and looking into eternity's vast abyss.
We had a season of prayer, then conversation for the purpose of learning
his present feelings and convictions. He professed a hope that God had
forgiven his sins and would accept him at last; said that no doubt it
would be better for him to go then than be pardoned and return to the
world once more, for, in that case, his appetite might overpower him
again and he do other horrid deeds. Still, it was hard to die in the way
he must.
Personal conversation over, we continued bringing to his mind fitting
portions of Scripture and appropriate verses from hymns and thus
occupied the moments till eleven slowly arrived.
Our door opens. The sheriff with his attendants enters. We march to the
scaffold in the hall, where are gathered many reporters for the press
and other gentlemen. The address being read and prayer offered, Mr.
Holman at his right and myself at his left lead him upon the fatal drop,
and there support him while the preparation for the last is being made.
During the adjustment of the black cap and noose, I feel a tremor in
his arm. He is taken forward from us and placed under the beam. His legs
are bound, his arms pinioned, the sheriff reads extracts from the doings
of the court, and gives the final sentence. The spring is touched, the
drop falls, the surgeon calls for the rope to be drawn higher, as the
feet touch the floor. This done, life ends in about a quarter of an
hour.
As the drop fell, Mr. Holman settled back in a chair, faint. I led him
to a window where he soon recovered, but serious illness followed,
caused by the excitement and anxiety of his labors here.
Now, if men must be hung, humanity would call for the work to be
performed differently in these respects: That mortal long reading from
the court doings should be dispensed with, that is, long for the place.
It can be of no sort of use. A short formula, consisting of the last two
or three sentences, uttered by the sheriff, would be all sufficient.
Then, again, that black cap should be different. Binding the limbs
consumed a few moments, and the reading, referred to, still more. But
probably after the cap was on and the noose fitted over it, the criminal
exhausted all the oxygen available to him in three or four breaths, and
was forced to suffer the process of suffocation during that occupied
time. How near death he was when the drop fell, I can not say, but he
appeared to be suffering greatly before the binding was completed. That
could all be remedied by having an orifice in the cap opposite the mouth
for breathing.
Further, that sad mistake about the rope should never be allowed to
happen. He who permits himself to be appointed to such a duty, ought so
to understand his business that such an accident shall be impossible.
Some of the papers, especially in New York, roughly criticised our
efforts to prepare Pike for his end, said it was an outrage on society
to give a wretch like him so much attention; that, in it, we exhibited a
sickly sentimentalism, appeared as though we would raise crime to a
saintship, and more in the same line. A few words only on this must
suffice.
We supposed that the sentiment, "The criminal has a right to the benefit
of the clergy," really meant something; that, though this man had been
condemned to execution by his compeers for a most outrageous crime, he
yet had a right to means for preparing himself to pass the ordeal of the
scaffold with due composure, and for becoming reconciled to his God, if
that could be. We did not dream that anybody short of heathendom would
object to this. Supposing we were appointed to work for that end, we
went to the task with a sincerity of purpose. If we were not appointed
to do just the things we did, for what were we, pray?
We simply followed the usual course pursued at the bedside when one is
near death, had religious conversation, prayer, singing, parting with
friends; though, in this case, we had no extreme feebleness caused by
disease to meet, but rather crime, in one of its most revolting forms,
to recognize in bringing gospel appliances, concerning which crime we
endeavored to be duly faithful.
Hence, all that feverish editorial brain-work over this pretended wrong,
and that amount of printer's ink and paper thus used were simply wasted
upon, what never occurred, or that which was only a usual, honest effort
to do our duty with fidelity.
But this tirade, no doubt, came through the agency of some living not
far away, who designedly put a newsmonger on the wrong scent, for the
purpose of venting their own spleen at the idea of having those around
who would treat a helpless, fallen man better than a dog.
14. _Doctrinal discourses._ In pursuing my labors among the prisoners, I
often met those skeptical views, before alluded to, which were sometimes
quite boldly avowed. Some of them would constantly attend the Sabbath
school, doubtless simply from the pleasure derived in puzzling their
teachers with questions. They were acute, shrewd fellows, keen in
argument, quick to see a point and turn it, hard to meet. To help these,
if possible, I decided to give a few discourses on the evidences of the
existence of a God as seen from the light of nature. Those of the
skeptical class as well as others manifested no little interest in the
subject. Soon evidences began to appear of a material softening among
them in their opposition to Bible truths. One young man said to the
warden, "When the chaplain commenced those discourses, I felt sure of
being impregnably fixed in my ideas. After hearing one, I would retire
to my cell and sit down with the purpose of figuring out the want of
conclusiveness in his arguments. But the more I figured, the more I saw
that I was in the wrong and not he; that, from what we see all about us,
there must be a God, whom I am convinced I ought to love and obey." This
man became altogether changed in his habits and entered upon a really
hopeful course. Nor was he alone among those thus yielding, who had long
been accustomed to shut their eyes against the true light.
15. _Effect of the prayer meeting on prison order._ These meetings had
now continued a number of weeks with no abatement of interest, having
gained the reputation of being the best in the city. But it became
needful for us, at this time, to suspend all our chapel exercises for a
while, to give place to the proposed enlargement of the room. Hence, at
the close of the last meeting previous to this vacation, the warden
said, in substance, "We have been holding these meetings several weeks.
At first I thought them wholly impracticable in the place, but am truly
glad to find I was so greatly mistaken. As an act of simple justice, I
feel that I ought to bear testimony, before you all, to the influence
they have exerted on the morals of the inmates. Since they commenced, we
have not had a single case for discipline in this institution, a fact
without precedent in the past, so far as my knowledge extends, for so
long a time. And I most devoutly hope that this state of things will
continue and the meetings grow more and more powerful in their influence
for good."
Such a result of our efforts was in advance of what I had dared hope
for. Though fully convinced that the influence must be in that
direction, I had not realized so clearly that we were setting in
operation what would prove so effective an aid to order in the prison.
16. _The new chapel._ At length the chapel was completed and made a gem
of a room, as it seemed to us, in comparison with what it previously
was, having been enlarged to nearly double its former size, extending
the whole width of the building and taking in the windows on both sides,
thus giving us great improvement in air and general comfort; the
painting also was neat and cheerful. We all felt truly thankful for so
great a blessing, thankful, too, for the opportunity of meeting again to
resume our worship. As the poor fellows entered, one after the other,
and cast their eyes about upon the beauty and neatness before them, I
could see the joy flash over their countenances. The singing sent a new
thrill to the heart, and it seemed much easier to speak to them.
Everything appeared more hopeful for good.
During the recess, I had been assiduous in visiting the prisoners,
Sabbaths and other days, and endeavoring to influence them in the right.
But now that the meetings had commenced, we could rationally look for a
greater success to our efforts.
Nor did we look in vain, for soon some professed a full determination to
forsake their ways of sinning and seek to become what God required.
These indications, as is usual in the outside world, tended to give the
general moral tone, in the prison, a deeper impressiveness.
17. _Prison repairs and mistakes._ Previous to the enlarging of the
chapel, general repairs and important alterations had been made in the
south wing, consisting of a new French roof, a great improvement in
appearance and utility, new cells for the female prisoners, and other
rooms fitted for the officers and general prison use. The mechanics
worked most diligently, and the money appropriated by the State was, no
doubt, most economically laid out. The agent, one of the council,
evidently felt no little satisfaction in having it said that he could
accomplish so large amount of work with so little money.
But either he, or some one else, made at least two grave mistakes. One
was in locating the cells for the females, which are in the third story,
requiring the occupants, in going to and from their meals, and attending
to much of their work, to pass over two, and sometimes three, flights
of stairs. All understanding minds know that this must prey most sadly
on female health, and that apartments for this class should be as near
the ground as can be.
The other mistake was in the stairs. In the old arrangement the females
had their private stairway, where they could pass unobserved by any
except their attendants. But in the change, that private way was laid
aside and the women required to use the public stairs, subjecting them
to great inconvenience. I called the attention of the agent to this
matter, but to no effect.
Another thing of trifling expense should have been attended to. The
female wash-room should be arranged so that those laboring there, in
turning out the waste water, should not be required to lift their tubs
as high as, and, in some cases, higher than their heads; and, while
washing, they should not be obliged to stand on ice so much. Blinds,
also, should have been put to those large hospital windows to prevent
almost broiling the sick in hot weather.
18. _Profanity attacked._ Profanity appeared to be a common evil in the
institution, not only among the convicts, but also with many of those
who were over them. A prisoner said to me one day, with no little
emotion, "Chaplain, I am in a hard case. Swearing is my besetting sin.
If I become vexed with my work, or anything else, that is my resort at
once. In the meetings, I hear preaching, prayer and singing, under the
influence of which, I feel a strong impulse to leave my sinful ways, and
seek to become good and live an upright life. Almost resolved on this, I
go to my work and am there forced to hear more or less profanity. They
will swear at me, and I fall to swearing, too. Thus I am in a hard
case." The deputy said, "There is swearing enough here daily to sink the
whole concern clear down out of sight."
Thus assured, it seemed important that a move specifically against that
sin be made. True, we might not reach those who most indulged in it, as
they never attended our gatherings, but we could work for the prisoners.
Hence, one evening, after speaking of the folly and sinfulness of the
habit, an appeal was made direct to the men, soliciting all who would
wholly abandon the practice to rise in their seats, to which some forty
responded. At the next meeting, on requesting those who had succeeded in
keeping their pledge to rise, the largest part signified their success.
The next day as I passed about, some told me that, the past week, they
had failed once or twice, but felt determined to struggle on and
conquer. Subsequently one and another would assure me of their full
triumph, that they had not been overtaken since that first week. How far
the reform went, I shall never know, but it was in the right direction,
such a reform as should be carried out everywhere, for no gentleman will
take God's name in vain. It is a vulgar, mean practice.
19. _Efforts for a son, from a mother's plea._ During the spring of '71
and, while our religious interest was progressing, a mother visited her
son in prison, having a temporary home with a lady friend in the city.
We will call the mother, Mrs. A., the son, B., and the friend, Mrs. C.
Mrs. A., witnessing the subduing influences pervading our meetings, and
feeling a strong desire that her son might be benefited thereby,
determined to do what she could in that direction. This son was a youth
who might have stood high, had he followed the right, but he had gone
deeply into crime, causing his parents and friends untold sorrows.
Still, this mother clung to him as only a mother can, hoping and praying
for his rescue from his downward course.
The two families, here represented, had previously lived in near
proximity and in happy union, when B. was an innocent youth, just
emerging from childhood, a mother's pride and a father's hope.
Considering this circumstance, and knowing that Mrs. C. had a class in
the prison Sabbath school, and was an intelligent Christian worker, of
good standing in the community, Mrs. A. conceived the idea that she
perhaps might now essentially help her son, and solicited her to make
the attempt. She replied, "I have no objection to attempting what I can
to reclaim your son, with the warden's assent." This assent obtained,
the two met in his presence. For a time B. appeared averse to talking
directly of his convictions concerning the soul's interest. But she at
length secured his confidence, thus leading him to speak of his feelings
and desires to reform more freely, perhaps, than he had to the chaplain
or warden. She referred to the past, what he once was, what his parents
had done for him, what he might have been; to his fall, what he had
lost, his present condition, his mother's agonized feelings in his
behalf. The recital cut him keenly. Like Peter of old, he wept bitterly.
She then pointed him to the Saviour as the only means of hope and
relief. Thus she met him a few times and to good effect. He had been
really interested in his religious welfare for a long time previous. But
these efforts helped him greatly to decide fully to follow his
convictions of duty. He became more alive to his true condition,
perhaps, than ever before, would mourn over the heinousness of his sins,
and evidently appeared to be drinking the bitter cup of repentance. He
would be at times in real agony of mind at the view of himself.
While in this state, the warden invited those especially interested in
the subject of religion to meet in the chapel, from twelve to twenty in
number, for an inquiry meeting. We conversed with them severally and
then proposed a season of prayer in which each should engage, which they
did, B. among the rest, after which he appeared more calm, as if he had
obtained a measure of relief, though he did not feel satisfied that he
had really experienced a change of heart, but seemed decided about
pursuing the right.
We encouraged him to press on as he had begun, and to take part in our
meetings, to the latter of which he replied, "No, I will not attempt
that. Should I, they will say, 'I am playing good with the hope of
getting out.' That I won't do. I despise hypocrisy, however bad I may be
in other things." Thus he took his stand, still interested in daily
reading God's word, prayer, Sabbath school, and the general religious
exercises. Other prisoners noted the change in him and would say, "He
has been converted." But he was called to meet sore trials in the
prison, trials hard to bear, of which we will speak hereafter.
20. _Warden's efforts for a young man._ This young man, here called E.,
from the middle walks of English society, parents well to do, with a
good trade, superior mental powers, commanding high wages, came to this
country to seek his fortune, fell into bad company, bad habits, and
finally the State Prison. The warden became deeply interested in him,
found that he was anxious about his religious state, and seeing the
success of Mrs. C.'s labors invited Mrs. D. F., another prison Sabbath
school teacher, resembling Mrs. C. in efficiency, character and
standing, to make an effort with him for his good. She assented, and met
him in the presence of the warden. She first took measures to satisfy
herself that he was sincere and truthful with her, and proposed numerous
questions about his home affairs, his history, &c. He answered her
inquiries with apparent frankness, said that he was then under an alias,
not wishing by his wrongs to disgrace his friends or real name,
purported to give his true name, which she was not to reveal, the name
of his minister and thus on. Mrs. D. F. had been acquainted with this
minister, wrote to him, as she thought best, and in due time received an
answer conclusively showing that E. had been truthful in his personal
statements. She then conversed with him concerning his religious
interests with about the same results as in the former case, except that
he did not give so clear an evidence of a thorough work as did B.
The warden was particular to have the prison visits of these ladies in
his presence, and sometimes that of the chaplain, too, not only that
there should be no deviation from the rules of strict order, but also as
a safeguard against evil reports. He well knew that there were
ill-disposed persons who were ready to distort and misrepresent all his
efforts at reform; and had a lady been admitted to private interviews
with a prisoner, it would have given them just such stock to work with
as would have delighted them.
21. _Experience with noble appearing heads in prison._
Facts have shown that, in meeting an assembly, whether in prison or out,
we can not always judge correctly in regard to the mental caliber of
those composing it by the view of their heads. The apparent superior
development may be deceptive, the work of disease. Among the "noble
appearing heads" alluded to on a previous page, a part were of that
class, or at least contained diseased minds. We will look at two cases,
using substituted letters for the names, as previously.
H. is of good form, head finely proportioned, forehead high, eyes
bright, all indicating, at a little distance, that he might possess no
small share of intellect. Occasionally he will make pertinent, well
timed remarks, but is greatly wanting in mental ability. I have been
informed that his mother was intemperate, and had the delirium tremens
just previous to his birth. He, also, years before, had at times
appeared as though Satan himself possessed him, and was evidently
insane, which, passing off, would leave him all right for a season. He
has some remembrance of learning to read a little, can count almost one
hundred, but has no power to combine numbers otherwise, at least none
that I could find after persistent labor in drilling him almost daily
for some four weeks on the same figures; thus, in addition table 8 and
1, 8 and 2, &c., ending where we commenced. Ask him, "How many are 8 and
2?" and he would as quickly answer, "11," or "9," as anything. Still he
appeared earnest to learn, and was about twenty-four years old. He would
detain me with him as long as possible to help him catch the idea, and
would often say, "When I go out, I mean to find a good place where I can
go to school, for I intend to obtain a good education." At times he
would appear very religious, and talk and pray in our meetings; but,
should anything irritate him, he perhaps would fly into a rage beyond
all self-control, in which, if he could, he would kill a man as quickly
as he would a fly. Still, an officer of the needed prudence and skill,
by studying his infirmity and managing with due discretion, would have
but little trouble with him, and he would readily earn his living. He
would be an unsafe man to go at large, as dangerous, if fired with
anger, as any raving maniac. He should ever be under firm control
somewhere, with proper treatment and labor.
It would be difficult for us to determine how far moral responsibility
can be affirmed of this man. God alone can decide that.
J. was another fine looking man of some twenty-eight years, gentlemanly
appearing, with a good education, kindly disposed, usually of good
habits, honest, so far as known, except in two cases, and those in much
the same way. He would hire a team for a ride, go to a hotel and put up,
exchange or sell the horse, or harness, or carriage, or all together,
wander about awhile, and then return home for his father to help settle
the matter, making no effort to escape arrest. The first time he was
arrested, but not convicted, as neighbors pleaded in his behalf. The
second time he was sent to prison. On this trial neighbors urged the
father to put in the plea of insanity, but he refused, as so many were
resorting to that. Still, all said that he had the best of reasons, as
his own brother, or the young man's uncle died in an insane asylum, and
those exceptional acts of his must have been performed through an insane
impulse. Receiving a pardon previous to the close of his sentence, he
went into good employment, worked steadily about a year, and took the
same step again, when the court put him under guardianship, instead of
sending him to prison, which was no doubt the most judicious course; for
if kept from that horse hiring, he will doubtless be all right, as he
has never manifested any inclination to wrong except in that particular
point, and that only when his mind was evidently unhinged.
There were others who exhibited each his peculiarity. Some of these,
could we look within their mental structure and there take a just
survey, would perhaps be found possessed of such a native taint, or
bias, or disorder, that their wrong doings, for which they were in
prison, would be regarded in the light of misfortunes rather than
crimes.
This subject of hereditary mental taint or disorder, in connection with
wrong doing, opens to the phrenologist a wide and important field for
investigation. But when he is forced to the conclusion that the one has
acted from a disordered impulse of mind, uncontrollable, and he
therefore not responsible for his acts, it can make no difference with
the fact that the wrong doer must be restrained and put where he can not
trespass upon the rights of others. It will rather lead to the questions
of where he shall be confined, how employed, after what manner treated,
and in what light regarded; perhaps showing clearly the need of
important modifications in our present system of prison management.
22. _The Warden admits presents to prisoners from friends outside._ He
would permit friends outside to send soothing dainties to the sick, or
packages of fruit or home comforts to the well; or florists of the city
to send bouquets to stand upon the speaker's desk on the Sabbath, for
the prisoners to admire, and each received a flower or sprig to carry to
his cell as a memento of innocence and purity, and a stimulus to love
the Author of such beauty. It was really gratifying to see what cheer
to the fallen these remembrances from the outside world would bring. All
packages thus sent to prisoners were most carefully examined by
officers, that nothing wrong should pass.
23. _Warden decides to resign._ He had not found his place a bed of
roses. Certainly it possessed its thorns, and these, at times, largely
predominated. His efforts for bringing the prison, in all its
departments, to what it was, had cost him a great struggle, many anxious
hours of planning, and at times perplexities in executing. But his
greatest vexation came because of opposition, from certain ones without,
to what he felt assured was for the best good of the institution, and
from the misrepresentations of those opposed to all prison reform and
improvement, who think it an outrage to the State to treat a prisoner
better than a brute. He says one complained of him thus: "You give the
prisoners too good fare, and make things too comfortable for them, on
account of which they will wish to return. Whereas, the prison is a
place for punishment, requiring you to keep the inmates on poorer food,
and food so prepared that it shall be a punishment to eat it, and make
everything around them a source of discomfort, that, after leaving, they
may thereby be deterred from crime through dread of being returned."
From all considerations, the warden resolved to resign at the close of
the year, yet, while remaining, to continue the usual prison rations and
efforts at reform. His wife also heartily joined in his efforts, having
from the first done much towards the excellent fare of the prisoners,
and seeing that the sick were properly cared for. Hence, on one
occasion, finding a man gradually wasting away with consumption, the
skin wearing from his emaciated limbs by the hard prison couch, she
sent in her own feather bed, that he might pass the remainder of his
days in what comfort he could.
But what shall we think of the assertion that "the food should be so
prepared that it shall be a punishment to the men to eat it?" Can it be
possible, that one in New Hampshire, at this late day, uttered a
sentiment like that? So the warden most positively asserts. To say
nothing of its inhumanity, common worldly policy would repudiate such an
idea. Of food thus prepared one at first would eat as little as possible
to live, his powers for labor therefore depart, his appetite gradually
fails, and he goes down to death.
All who use horses or oxen, except the worst of men, would scout such a
practice. They say, "To have teams work well, feed well." So it must be
with men, whether in prison or elsewhere. Power for muscular labor can
be furnished only by generous food.
Then the fear that good prison fare would induce the prisoners to return
purposely on recommitments, must have been expressed without due
consideration, or being taught by prison facts. Statistics show that,
where the prison is the most cruelly managed and the inmates are kept on
the poorest fare, the greatest number return on second or third
sentences. Then as to our own prison, the very year this complaint was
made, more pardons were granted, I think, than had ever been before in
one year since the founding of the institution. And most surely none
refused to accept of the offer and depart. Besides, nearly all who had
friends, except those soon to go out by commutation, were constantly
importuning them to intercede for their pardon, while those who had
none, were persistent in their pleadings with the warden, chaplain and
other prison officers to help them in efforts for the desired boon. Why
this, if good fare would be an inducement to return? Would the utterer
of that sentiment have sanctioned the idea of leaving the prison doors
all unlocked and unbolted for one night? What a skedaddling there would
have been, old or young, sick or well, the infirm and decrepit, hobbling
off as best they could, leaving their good fare behind and their cells
"to let."
What an idea! The good prison living, which at best can not be made
equal to the comforts in our most common families outside, lead men to
desire to be locked up in those gloomy cells for its sake and subjected
to the general prison regime! That man may fear it who will.
24. _Prisoners' anxiety at the rumored resignation._ This rumor soon
spread through the prison, not however to bring joy, but sorrow. I had
not imagined that the prospect would cause the prisoners so much
anxiety. Probably the slave of former days on the auction block, about
to be struck off to a new owner, and all uncertain as to his future
fate, would experience feelings allied to theirs. Their first anxiety
seemed to be about their educational and religious privileges, lest
these might be cut off or largely curtailed. Said one, "I have served on
board of a whaleman and been accustomed to the most rigid discipline
found there. I fear nothing in the line of strictness of rules, but can
not bear the idea of being deprived of our school and meeting
opportunities. I would do almost anything for the sake of enjoying
these." This was the feeling.
Then, they were deeply anxious about the character of the man to be put
over them, whether he would be humane, or the reverse. And no wonder,
when we consider how completely they are left to his control. Probably
no other state officer is so irresponsible as the warden of our state
prison,--that is, in a position where those under him are so completely
at his mercy, and where he can exercise real cruelty, if disposed, and
cover it up with a fair outside show. None but a man of humane
instincts, one especially qualified for the post, should be put in that
position.
25. _Governor and Council memorialized by the prison S. S. teachers and
chaplain._ Sustaining the relation we did to the prison, we thought it
appropriate for us to set forth our views and desires to the Governor
and Council touching the appointment of the warden; not respecting who
should be appointed, but the principles to be secured. Hence, by a
committee, we drew up a paper to be laid before them, giving account of
the religious and educational privileges we had been laboring to secure
to the inmates for the purpose of throwing around them all the
influences possible for securing good order in the prison, and a
preparation, on their part, for going out reformed, and duly prepared to
act the part of good citizens, and also soliciting their honorable body,
that they would so recognize these arrangements and labors of ours, in
their contemplated appointment, that they should not be curtailed, but
permitted to go on, gathering around them such improved facilities as
might be devised from time to time, thus securing the best discipline in
the prison and the highest ends of imprisoning.
We were treated on the occasions with due respect, and permitted to
speak freely on the points as we judged best. Some of the gentlemen
responded in most commendatory terms at what we had been doing,
regarding the influence as highly salutary in regard to order and
general good in the prison.
26. _Prison funerals._ The methods of procedure at the interment of the
prisoners had been various, at times not very complimentary to a
professedly Christian people. But more recently the custom had obtained
of having prayer and remarks appropriate to the occasion, the men being
arranged in the prison yard, after which they were to retire to their
work. In this way we conducted our first funeral after my entrance. At
the next, we observed this form: Had all things ready when the men were
had eaten, say at twenty-five minutes past twelve, and then took them to
the chapel for the usual prayer and remarks, which ended, we conducted
them in file through the reception-room for leave-taking of their
lifeless comrade, the body being there laid out with some little taste,
and then they passed on to the shop. This method is chaste and
appropriate, hinders nothing about the shop labor, and manifests due
respect for the occasion.
The matter of funerals has ever been held as of great importance by all
civilized nations. Nor is it any the less important to a well conducted
prison than elsewhere. Proper funeral observances will tend to the good
of the prisoners as well as to that of others, and help impress upon
them the idea of their own mortal career and accountability. How much
more like men they will cause the inmates to feel than would putting the
body in a rough box and hauling it off the back way, in a cart, like a
dead dog.
27. _Educational and S. school summing up._ The year closed upon our
educational efforts with a good measure of success, though of necessity
limited in comparison with what ought to be accomplished by a like
number in our public schools outside. For, it will be borne in mind,
that all our pupils had to perform their daily tasks at manual labor
from early morn till night; that their cells are not the most
advantageous rooms for study; that what they obtained they had to gain
in these pent up places, in the odds and ends of their time, as best
they could. Then, again, we could have our school only when the guards
could be spared from their common prison duties. Still, with all the
drawbacks, a number of the inmates made commendable proficiency. They
did what they could. They had become inspired with the idea of putting
themselves earnestly to the task of cultivating their intellects and
hearts, so far as they could, and thus be prepared, on leaving prison,
for common business. Some had really waked up to what they had lost by
their sinful courses, and now appeared determined to do their best, in
the future, at making amends. Thus spurred on, they were diligent. And
it was truly a pleasure to be permitted to help forward these minds,
arousing, as they were, to a higher and better life. Sordid indeed must
be that heart which would not fire up with energy for encouraging such
to go on.
Some forty of the young were among those who were striving in this
direction, a very few others of that class not possessing sufficient
mental capacity for learning. Then others had obtained a good education
previously, and chose to spend their time in reading from the library,
except that some would wish a better knowledge of arithmetic, and
perhaps other branches, when about to close their term.
We had been favored with a few interesting lectures from outside
gentlemen, with three readings by lady elocutionists, and a number of
drill exercises in singing. A gentleman also gave us a number of lessons
in penmanship.
We had repaired the books of the library, added nearly two hundred
volumes, obtained a new catalogue, two large blackboards for drill
exercises in arithmetic, &c., a set of charts on penmanship, a set also
of outline maps in geography, purchasing likewise such books or material
as appeared needful to the school, expending in all $260.45, being
allowed to use in this way the money gathered from the admission fees of
visitors, all of which we did not use.
We endeavored to do what we could towards beginning what we confidently
hoped would soon become an institution duly established by the State
with all needed provision for security. The Sabbath school continued
with unabated interest from the first, numbers varying but little,
seldom falling below eighty, average, eighty-six.
28. _Religious success._ From my first day at the prison, the religious
state had been encouraging, nothing to mar the interest transpiring.
True, there had been no revival at any time, but a steady, healthful
drawing in the right direction, that from which the most is ever to be
hoped. A goodly number had, at different times, become professedly fixed
in the determination to a thorough reform, while the others had, to
appearance, largely lost their prejudice against religious truth; and
entered more freely into conversation upon those subjects, many
admitting the justness of their claims. And, taking all things together,
our prospects had never appeared better than at the end of the year,
indicating that, should our rulers possess wisdom enough to select the
right man for warden, still more cheering results might be anticipated
from subsequent efforts.
But we could not presume to judge correctly as to how much of this
profession was well founded. That we had to leave for God to take care
of. We had one important certainty, however, connected with this
matter,--the certainty that all true good is found with just such
surroundings as we had at the prison, the love of prayer, interest in
God's Word, delight in attending meetings, desire for mental culture and
a professed seeking for holiness; but not with the contrary, such as
swearing, contentions, hatred of God's truth, and the like.
29. _Fourth of July at the prison._ The Fourth came with no new warden
appointment. Therefore, the incumbent determined that he would celebrate
this at the prison as his own yearnings prompted, and as it would be
observed at some other prisons. Hence, at early morn, he announced to
the men that he was about to give them a real Fourth, causing their
hearts to leap for joy.
At 9 o'clock they met in the chapel for the reading of the Declaration
of Independence, singing, &c., after which they marched into the prison
yard, where were tables beautified by floral decorations and spread by
fair hands, with picnic dainties, lemonade being prepared expressly for
the prisoners. The blessing asked, the men having done ample justice to
the good cheer, and the tables having been removed, speaking by a number
of distinguished gentlemen from various towns followed. This ended and
prayer offered, the sports followed as various as the different tastes
could devise. Nothing rude, boisterous, insubordinate, or unkind
appeared from any. One standing outside the walls would not have
supposed, from anything heard, that a real, live Fourth was being so
greatly enjoyed within. And probably the pleasures of the day were
never more keenly felt anywhere, in prison or out. One and another would
say, "This is the happiest day of my life." A somewhat large delegation
of ladies and gentlemen from various parts of the State was present, who
seemed delighted with the occasion. The female prisoners partook of
their picnic dainties in their own room, but were permitted, with their
attendants, to witness the yard scenes from the chapel windows.
Everything passed off satisfactorily. The speaking was excellent, just
fitted to the occasion, showing the need of laws and prisons, that those
present were here for crimes, yet that they could reform, for which they
should strive, that numerous willing hands were reached out for their
encouragement and aid.
The time at length came for separating, when each man went to his cell
with a cheer of heart which he had never carried there before. And this
cheer long pervaded their minds, leading them to obey with greater
alacrity. Nor did I hear of a case of a contrary character. They would
afterwards often refer to the occasion as that _happy day_.
30. _The true principles of imprisoning and prison-managing on the idea
of reform in the convict._ For the sake of brevity these principles are
here set forth mainly by questions and answers.
What is the object of imprisoning?
This object is fourfold:
1. To prevent the criminal from injuring the public.
2. To deter from committing crime.
3. To punish the wrong doer.
4. To reform the erring.
On the first two of these two points there is no dispute, while some
will not admit the third, and others proscribe the fourth. Let us,
however, admit the four.
Who has the right to imprison and assign the terms and conditions to the
imprisoned?
The State alone, or society organized in a body politic, has this right,
and that is to be exercised by due process of law, in which exercise she
is, first, in her legislative capacity, to point out clearly, by her
enactments, for what a man shall be imprisoned, specify the terms of the
imprisoning and the conditions to which the imprisoned shall be
subjected; second, in her judicial capacity, assign the wrong doer his
merited doom; and, third, in her executive capacity, to carry out in him
the decisions she has made, no individual having a right to interfere
with this in any way, except as specially authorized by State
enactments.
Hence, the criminal, when standing at the bar and hearing the sentence
of the judge, can understand exactly what lawfully and justly awaits
him, provided that he demean himself uprightly in his new condition.
Suppose the sentence, in a given case, is this: "You are to be confined
at hard labor in our State Prison for five years." In this all that can
lawfully be inflicted upon the convict is involved. So say the judges
themselves. Hence, should any man, or party of men, bring upon him
additional infliction during that time, the imprisoned would, just so
far, become the sufferer of a wrong, and those making that infliction
would be the wrong doers. Let us, then, analyze this sentence and thus
ascertain its elements.
Being confined in prison for the term, all admit, involves the idea that
he is to enter those walls and not be permitted to pass out till his
time is ended.
As the term, "hard labor," is not defined, it must be determined by the
common custom of workmen at the same or similar business outside. So say
the judges again. To illustrate: if ten hours constitute a day's work
with these, so with the prisoners,--not twelve or fifteen. Again, if, in
bedstead making, turning one hundred posts, in the one case, is required
for a day, so in the other, not one hundred and fifty or two hundred.
This laboring day after day, during the specified number of years,
constitutes the "hard labor" in the meaning of the court.
The law assigns no further punishment to the imprisoned, if duly
submissive to wholesome prison rules. But, should he be stubborn,
refusing to perform his task, or obey the regulations generally, or
should he rise in rebellion, of necessity discretion must be left with
the officers to use such means, even to taking life, as shall be
essential in bringing the delinquent to subordination. These means,
however, may be limited by law, as they are to a great degree in our
State, and are ever to be used as humanity dictates.
What rights does the State take from the criminal in imprisoning?
She takes from him the right to live and act outside of prison walls, to
be a master to himself inside, and to receive his earnings as his own.
These constitute the sum total. As he had used his liberty and the
mastery of himself to the public damage, she justly steps in, deprives
him of the one and takes upon herself the other, thereby assuming the
guardianship over him during the specified time. She takes his earnings
as a compensation, so far as they will go, for his damage and expense to
community, and as an important element in his punishment. She becomes
his guardian for the purpose of so educating him that, on going out, he
shall live an upright, harmless life.
What rights remain to the imprisoned?
There is a wide range, a long list of these, which the State does not
pretend to cut off or interfere with, such as the right to suitable
food, clothing, lodging, ventilation, drainage, care in sickness or
infirmity: in a word, to what will tend to corporeal vigor; the right to
means for mental, moral and religious culture, or what will tend to the
development in him of true manhood. If this is not so, which right is
cut off or curtailed? and where is the law that does it?
What duties does the State take upon herself in thus imprisoning?
These are of two classes, one relating particularly to herself, and the
other to the imprisoned.
Duty to herself is done, 1st, in protecting society from the crimes of
the imprisoned, which she does by imprisoning; 2nd, in keeping the
criminal diligently at work, thereby obtaining pecuniary compensation,
so far as can be, for her trouble and expense on his account; 3d, in
using all feasible efforts for rubbing off the rust of sin, washing away
the corruption of iniquity, found in those taken in charge, and making
of them true men,--good, industrious, honest, upright citizens.
The latter part is of the highest moment, far exceeding all
considerations of mere dollars and cents, drawing as much real manhood
as possible from the material put in her hands. If she takes one who is
dangerous to society, and works in him an entire reform, she
accomplishes a work in comparison with which gold and silver will weigh
but little. Making men is the high mission of the prison, and the State
can not be regarded as having performed anything like her whole duty,
till she has used every feasible means to this great end.
The duty of the State to the prisoner is performed by securing to him
what he needs in his corporeal, mental, moral and religious departments.
If she withholds in any of these, so far she becomes delinquent towards
the imprisoned, a violator of his rights just as really as he had been a
violator of others' rights when in his wild career of sinning.
More than this. In such withholding she becomes chargeable with real
cruelty. For she has put the man in a state where he can not supply his
own needs, and, if she neglects them, he must suffer. This is surely a
grave matter, one which should be looked to with the utmost care;--a
place where the State can afford to be highly generous rather than
expose herself to a suspicion of such a wrong.
What are the proper means of reform?
Among these will be found, the State guardianship, the labor system,
strict discipline, kind treatment, stimulating hope, mental, moral and
religious culture.
The State guardianship will tend to form in the convict the habit of
duly regarding the rights of others and of looking up, with respect, to
wise and beneficent direction; the labor system, that of uniform
industry, of profitably employing the time instead of in idle
indulgencies; strict discipline, that of cheerful submission to
wholesome rules, regardful of the principles of right. Kind treatment
will tend to inspire the recipients with confidence in the sincerity of
the reform efforts used, trust in the proffered friendship, and an
assurance of success in struggles for good. Stimulating hope will rouse
the better nature to action and secure confidence in overseers.
Cultivating the intellect will prepare one intelligently to conduct
himself in the affairs of life, and open to him sources of satisfaction
far above those of his former life. Moral culture will arouse
controlling ideas of the bounds of human rights, and the importance of
observing them. The religious cultivation, having been made through deep
conviction of sin, resulting in a hatred to wrong and a love for good,
will lay a broad and deep foundation for a life of right.
Let these means be honestly and efficiently used, and they will most
powerfully influence to ways of goodness. None of them can be spared.
Each is a link in the chain which will be mighty to elevate the fallen.
And if one can not be reformed by them, it is proof positive that he
ought not to be at large.
What kind of prison officers are essential?
They should be of good moral character, ever setting proper examples
before the prisoners, humanely disposed, capable of complete
self-control, alive to efforts for reforming the inmates. Those more
especially charged with the administration of affairs will need, in
addition, to be good disciplinarians, studying the peculiarities of each
and endeavoring to heal the weaknesses of mind.
The warden should possess great breadth of mind and force of character;
be capable of bringing to his work large heart power; patient, yet
decided; abounding with humane instincts, yet capable of using sterner
means when essential; ever keeping wisdom at the helm, using true
discretion, and be controlled by a strong desire for the highest good
of all. He will be intent on studying how to address reform means to
each with a view to the greatest success. At the same time he should
look well to the true pecuniary interests of the institution.
The chaplain should be truly a man of God, enabled to bring large
mental, moral and religious force to his duties, and alive, heart and
soul, to the great work of raising up those under his care and
presenting them to the world redeemed and saved.
31. _The commutation system._ This is a system established by
legislative enactment a few years since; on condition of good behavior
and a faithful performance of duty in one, to grant him a specified
shortening in his term of sentence, and complete restoration to
citizenship.
It was really interesting to witness the effect of this provision on the
convicts, stimulating as it did their hope, and leading them to do the
best they could to obtain this much coveted boon. The case of one will
illustrate this feeling. He had been in the solitary, but did not seem
to mind his sufferings there in the least. His great anxiety was whether
he should lose his commutation. He suffered no little in mind in this
respect. Indeed, every day gave us a clear exhibition of the influence
this system had over the inmates' minds for good, helping the officers
greatly in keeping order in their efforts at reform.
Now, if hope could be thus stimulated, and that to such great advantage,
by this simple provision, what might not be accomplished by following
more largely the same line of policy, that is, the hope-stimulating
line?
32. _Chaplain's proposed attempt at tobacco reform._
The chaplain made this proposition to the governor and council: "Put the
prisoners on their option as to tobacco using with the condition that
any who will disuse it, receive, once a month, or quarter, as the case
may be, the amount thus saved in money, to be kept funded in the bank
for him to receive, on certain conditions as to time, &c., after his
release."
This proposition was made with at least four prominent objects in view.
The first was to convert as many as could be from tobacco using; the
second, to give an additional stimulus to hope among the prisoners; the
third, to create an interest in the men in looking after money matters,
a care for small items; and, fourth, to help them form the habit of
saving and laying up.
This privilege was, of course, to be granted on condition of good
behavior, and therefore as effective as could be toward prison order.
The proposer conceived that here was an element of great power for good
to the prison and State. This forming a habit, in the former careless
one, of looking particularly into the smallest items of money, with
carefully saving and laying up, might work an entire revolution in more
than one, leading them to habits of honest industry and thrift, an
immense gain to the individual and the community.
But the rulers did not see fit to heed the proposal. If they had, no
doubt quite a large number of the prisoners would have adopted the
plan.
THE PRISON CHAPLAINCY
PART II.
Under the Punitive and Money-making System.
1. _Warden chosen, and new arrangements for the chaplain._ Some weeks of
the new year had passed, when the warden's place was filled by the
choice of J. C. Pillsbury, of Concord. Report said that the delay had
been by reason of a division of sentiment on the case in the council
chamber.
I directly waited on the new incumbent, at his office, to arrange for my
duties. He seemed to feel that he had been put there for correcting
important abuses that had grown up in the prison management, in what
particular department I did not learn. But he laid out my work as
follows:
"Chaplain, we will have the meetings held in the chapel as heretofore;
that is, the males assemble Sabbath mornings at nine and enjoy the same
exercises as usual, none else to be admitted except at my special
invitation; Sabbath school continue Sabbath afternoons, and I will
select such teachers as I think best. Wednesday evening prayer meetings
to continue, I inviting in some of the religious men of the city to help
carry them on, and not a prisoner be allowed to open his head in them.
These fellows are here to be punished. They must not be called men, but
criminals, for such they are."
Such in substance was my programme, on which this colloquy followed
between myself and warden:
"Warden, you did not speak of admitting the female prisoners to the
Sabbath worship in the chapel."
"No, I don't purpose to admit any females to that service."[1]
[Footnote 1: I understood his objection to be, that the sight of a woman
is demoralizing to a prisoner.]
"But we can have a screen so arranged, that the women can not be seen by
the men, though assembled as formerly, and I will be at the labor and
expense of fitting it."
"No, I won't have a woman in the chapel."
"But do not the rules require the warden to assemble the females as well
as males in the chapel Sabbath mornings for worship?"
"Oh, I call the women's work-room their chapel."
"But, if I am to hold a service with the women in their work-room after
the chapel service, it will double my labors, and then not be as
interesting and useful to them as if hearing the discourse with the
speaker fresh and unfatigued."
"I don't ask you to hold a second service with the women, for giving
them a sermon. Only go into their room any time in the week, some
evening if more convenient, and offer prayer, and that will be all
sufficient."
"How about commencing the school in the chapel?"
"Oh, I can't have anything to do with that, we are so tired, when night
comes, with our other duties."
Thus matters were before me. What a cutting off! The question would be,
"Is this cutting off a part of the proposed correction of prison
abuses?" No secular school, no religious instruction of note to the
female prisoners, and the screws put upon our prayer meeting so tightly
as to render them of but little account to the prisoners.
As to the latter, I felt that, could the prisoners enjoy the privilege
of taking part in them as previously, having only the warden, guards and
myself present, it would be preferable to the new plan. This I proposed,
to which the warden finally assented, and that from the fact, as I
supposed, that it would rid him of so much outside attendance. This then
was gained, though the other points remained immovably fixed.
I understood the warden to remark, "It is of no use for the chaplain to
preach and labor with a hope of reforming these prisoners, for they
can't be reformed." Then this expression, as of his saying, was told
me,--"I will break up that Methodist camp meeting at the prison." What
did the assertion mean? Was it a slur on our previous religious efforts?
Or was it indicative of a shortening of our religious privileges? We
had, at no time, any rush at our meetings, but few being admitted for
want of room. A small number had attended and helped in our prayer
meetings, more in the Sabbath school. All denominations were alike
interested in the matter. Indeed, we had no denomination about it.
I brought the matter of the school and that of the females assembling in
the chapel for worship to the notice of the governor, but the warden
prevailed.
2. _Chaplain almost resolved to resign, but decides to continue and
arrange his work._ Thus things put on so forbidding an aspect in every
way, that it did not seem that I could accomplish any further good at
the prison. True, I could draw my salary with almost nothing to do, the
name go out that the institution had a chaplain, but being expected to
drift on with the current, whichever way it might set, and at the end
make up a glowing report of the prison doings and success, no matter
what the facts might be. But my feelings rebelled at such an idea, and I
thought, for a time, that I must resign, and almost resolved upon the
step. Then the question would arise, Is it right to leave those who have
appeared so earnest to improve and reform? Something said, "No."
Friends, too, learning my feelings on the subject, said decidedly that I
must remain at the post.
I was in a hard place. There were the sentiments as uttered above, then
the general spirit manifested, speaking louder than words, that "reform
moves are all interlopers in prison, having no sort of business here."
After looking the ground carefully over in my mind and thinking of all
the connections, I saw that, by a greatly increased amount of labor, I
could furnish the prisoners with a partial substitute for the chapel
school. I had a right to visit them in the privacy of their cells, from
morn till the hour for retiring in the evening. I could therefore hear
their recitations there separately. No one could justly complain of
this. Hence, I decided to remain, and laid out my work thus:--Sabbath,
usual service with the men from nine to ten, and services in the women's
work-room till eleven; then in the hospital with Jones, the murderer,
and others as their cases allow, till twelve; Sabbath school services in
the afternoon, besides visiting cells as much as possible; on other
days, to spend noon and evenings visiting the cells in turn, hearing
recitations and imparting instruction in the common school branches;
besides changing the books Saturdays, as already, to change them at any
other time when called for.
Thus I voluntarily undertook three times as much real hard work for the
prisoners as my duty had previously demanded. The new order seemed to
render it imperative, for I could do nothing in the educational line
without it.
3. _Cells cleared of trinket-making and tracts._ The former warden was
accustomed to distribute tracts among the prisoners. He also, by the
assent of the government over him, had allowed the men, who desired it,
to employ their otherwise idle moments by making small trinkets, as hair
chains, paper folders, tooth-picks and small fancy boxes in imitation of
what was done in certain other prisons, thereby, as was supposed,
securing greater contentment and better order among the men. The new
warden condemned all this as a great violation of good prison order. The
candles, also, were condemned, and everything of the kind, with all the
writing material or waste paper found in the cells, was removed, the
spoils carefully measured, and the number of bushels sent the rounds of
the papers as an evidence of the former abuses in this prison and of his
labors to correct them.
I asked if the prisoners did not need to have the waste paper, at least,
remain. "Oh," said he, "they will look out for that themselves." I could
not then see how, but subsequently learned, much to the cost of the
State.
4. _Necessity for the chaplain's undertaking what he did._ This
necessity arose, not simply from the demands of the inmates for
educational and reformatory means, but also from considerations of good
prison order. True, the warden had the vanity to think he could control
the men in whatever way he might undertake. The show of his cane would
be sufficient for any emergency. But there was human nature in the
prison as well as out, and, from the circumstances, it would be strange
if it did not show itself. By taking away the prisoners' educational
privileges, and the various articles referred to, much idle time would
be left. How would this be employed? These men would naturally feel
angry at being deprived of what they had enjoyed so long, and prized.
This now unemployed time would give them ample opportunity for studying
means of revenge, and some would no doubt turn their acumen in that
direction. If a prisoner had any smartness, he would feel, from the
circumstances, almost impelled to give vent to mischief, and thereby
make as much trouble as possible.
But, could I step in, and, by dint of effort, keep those minds agreeably
occupied, I should do so much towards helping the warden to the desired
subordination and order. No previous time in my prison experience seemed
to demand so great efforts in that direction as now. Hence, duty
appeared calling me to step forward, as I did.
5. _New phase at the prison, and the chaplain's efforts._ The first
Sabbath morning came for chapel worship under the new order, and a
sadder appearing company I never met, their countenances being
expressive of anxiety and gloom commingled. The singing dragged, the
instrument standing voiceless, as the one who had usually made it speak,
was of the sex here proscribed, and the warden had not found another to
take her place. It was hard preaching, for these once earnest hearers
seemed to have hearts too full for hearing. But I endeavored to give
words of hope, and to direct their minds to a heavenly Father who will
ever carry his trusting children through the scenes they are called to
pass. Of course I could make no allusion to present circumstances, or
appear to recognize any change in the surroundings; but somehow I could
not call the hearers "criminals." I pursued the usual course, addressing
them as _men_, or _friends_, or perhaps _brothers_, for I was
occasionally guilty of all that; but the word "criminal" never hung on
my lips when addressing the inmates on subjects of improvement. In my
view, such a course would have been like attempting to light a fire by
applying the match with one hand and dashing on water with the other.
At the close of our services, as the warden, in his peculiar way, was
giving some of his orders, I could see the crimson flush on more than
one cheek, indicative of the feelings stirred within, the character of
which I could only conjecture. One of his assertions was, as I
understood it, thus: "I am warden here now. The days of bouquets and
flowers are played out here," and more in the same vein.
In the women's room the countenances were not so anxious. They rather
liked this part of the change, for it would free them from the task of
preparing, Sabbath mornings, to appear in public. Still, anxiety was not
entirely wanting. Sabbath school was this day omitted, as the warden had
not obtained his corps of teachers.
On going my rounds for private counsel to the men in their cells, I
found, in most cases, gloom and discouragement, they having generally
heard of the warden's disbelief in their reform. It was really wonderful
to witness the change a few days had wrought in the moral aspect of the
prison. A frost in June would not make a greater change on the face of
nature. I could but ask myself, "Why are things thus?" "At what are our
rulers aiming?"
I went to each with all the cheer I could, exhorting them not to indulge
in these downcast feelings, but to look upward with hope, and gave them
the assurance that their educational privileges, as well as religious,
would be continued, only with some change in their application, and
pointed out in brief the manner, saying that each could advance in study
as rapidly as in his power.
If any referred to their cell amusements being taken away, I met them
with the remark,--"Don't trouble about that. You shall be furnished with
all the books you can read and study, and I will hear your recitations.
In this way, your time can be pleasantly and profitably occupied,
perhaps making you the gainers." A few of these former trinket workers
became more interested in their studies, but the most could not, by
reason of their sight, thus being left to endure their privation as best
they could.
When one would refer to his discouragement on account of the warden's
disbelief in reform, I would meet him thus, "You are to look only to
yourself and your God in this matter. What a fellow mortal believes or
disbelieves concerning you is of no account. You have the power to go on
in the right and be a good man. I know you have, and others who are good
and true, men upon whose views we can all rely, also know it. What
matter if the warden does think as you suppose? It is only his opinion.
He wishes you to do well, and will be glad if you succeed in the right.
But, should you turn back, it will confirm his views that you can not
reform. You will meet with harder things than this in life, yet must
not think of yielding the struggle, let what will arise."
These efforts tended materially to lift the cloud from the prisoners'
minds, and give them more hope. It really gladdened the hearts of many
to learn that the privileges, which they had come to love so well and
esteem so highly, were still to be theirs.
6. _S. school commences._ The next Sabbath the S. S. was resumed. Nearly
the usual number were present. A few Christian gentlemen from the city
were teachers, a sufficient number to guard each prisoner and see that
nothing contraband passed. These were good men, some having long been
laborers in the school. On the whole, things appeared more encouraging
than on the Sabbath previous. That frosty appearance had in a measure
departed, though it was by no means wholly gone.
7. _The warden's views considered._ The idea that "prisoners can not be
reformed" is contrary to Scripture, history, and experience. The former
gives the assurance that the vilest, the chief of sinners, those whose
sins are as scarlet or crimson, may be saved. Then history deals in
facts where such have been radically reformed, and have become good men.
Some who were once in prison are now upright, industrious citizens.
Hence, the assertion shows lack of confidence in Scripture assurances
and historical knowledge.
But one asks, "Do you think it possible to reform all, or a large
proportion of prisoners?" We can assume it of those here as of the world
in general. Whether out of or in prison, we are to sow the seed, and
some will germinate. We must work, use all right appliances, and leave
the event with God, not knowing "which shall prosper, this or that."
Again, the objection comes: "Prisoners will be often hypocritical,
profess goodness from sinister motives, pretending to have reformed for
a time, and then become as bad as ever."
Admit all this. But are not just such traits found in the world all
about us? Where are there more wicked wretches than some outside the
prison, who have "put on the livery of heaven to serve the devil in?"
What meaner men inhabit God's earth than some who have succeeded in
working themselves into the church, and can boast of coming to the
communion regularly? How many profess and fall away on every hand, yes,
sink deeper in corruption than before! The fact is, this pretended
argument to the disadvantage of the prisoner is all a sham.
The prison, if rightly conducted, possesses certain means of reform,
which can not be had outside. To illustrate: Here is a young man, who
has never entered a school-house, or a place of worship, but has spent
his time with vicious companions and in vicious habits. He falls into
prison, where his home is a cell and silence his constant companion.
Here he is removed from his former surroundings and opportunities for
sinful indulgence. The loneliness and tedium of his condition soon
become unendurable. He must, in some way, have relief. But no means lie
within his reach except those connected with reform appliances. To these
he is forced, by the pressure of his nature, to resort, simply for
self-gratification, which he can find in hearing the human voice and in
the connected exercises. He hears truth which he had never heard before,
but which is permitted to fall on his mind with its full weight. He is
thus led to reflect, repents of his sins, and becomes really a reformed
man, a brand plucked from the burning.
The tendency of things, then, in a properly conducted prison, _is_
reformatory. Therefore, let ours be managed on that principle, and all
in our State, worthy of such a place, be there assigned for the
requisite time, and, no doubt, one good, devoted, wide-awake man could
do them more good than they now receive from all the religious means and
labors outside put together.
"The sight of a woman is demoralizing to a prisoner." The reader will
readily understand in what respect. If this be true, what a demoralized
class must be our grown up, unmarried sons, our bachelors and widowers,
with women constantly in sight. Then how wickedly does the warden
himself proceed in taking certain of his men among the women to work;
and in permitting women and girls dressed up in their finery to
perambulate freely about the shops and buildings in sight of the men.
"But," it is answered, "the men are not allowed to look at visitors."
True, but not being allowed is one thing, and not looking is quite
another. If any man can make himself believe that, when a woman is
conducted right into the presence of a prisoner, he will not obtain a
sight of her, he possesses more credulity than falls to the common lot
of men. The fact is, visitors about the shops are seen by the prisoners
and thought of and talked about by them, no matter who pretends to the
contrary. Every one knows this, who knows anything of a prison, let him
say what he will. Then why select one spot, the chapel on the Sabbath,
as a place where the sight of a woman is to be branded as a most
polluting sin, and no objection raised to her being seen elsewhere
almost daily and hourly? Consistency is a jewel.
If the sight of a woman is so demoralizing to a man confined in prison,
how demoralized must he speedily become on leaving and meeting them
everywhere! And what sinners prison managers in numerous other States
have become through admitting women to moral labors in their
institutions! What egregious sinning on the part of that State which
employs a woman as chaplain of its prison, and she permitted to go
freely from cell to cell in her ministrations of mercy!
In the army, in hospitals, or whatever place men are found needy and
dependent, true women are freely admitted as ministering angels, with no
thought of demoralization. Yes, the world lauds the heroism and devotion
of many of these in poetry and song.
So far as I could learn, the influence of the women in the chapel did
not produce the effect alleged. I inquired of some on this point, at the
time of their leaving, and solicited the real truth. Take the answer of
an intelligent young man, one whom I have no doubt is sincere and
reliable,--"The influence on my feelings were not in a wrong direction,
but wholly to the contrary. I should have been ashamed of myself at
indulging an impure thought towards that lady under whose care I was so
long in the Sabbath school. I rather felt humbled and filled with
gratitude, that she should condescend to take me, a poor, wicked
prisoner, not able to read or write, and labor so patiently and
persistently to help me to what I now am, redeemed, I trust, and made a
different man, largely through her labors. They were her words of hope
and assurance which first stimulated me with the idea of an earnest
effort to rise from what I was."
The fact is, some men have their passions and will think, whether seeing
any of the other sex or not; and more or less are inclined to deeds of
wrong. But, in the opinion of our best minds, the true course to pursue
is, to admit judicious ladies, those of character and influence, to help
in labors of reform.
"Motives of safety required the cell clearing." This was the pretended
reason, but could not have been the real one, according to the warden's
own words. One day, in passing along the cells with company, he
remarked, "Gentlemen, vigilance, vigilance, is the only safety here!
Lock me in one of those cells, and I would walk out in half an hour.
There is no safety in this prison but in the watchfulness of the guard."
This being true, the small articles which the warden found in the cells
could make no difference in regard to safety, therefore, their removal
must have been from other motives.
8. _Chaplain's restrictions._ These were not given at once and in
detail, but were learned by experience. One afternoon, the prisoners
being in the shop, I took the key, as sometimes before, when needful, to
enter the chapel by the south door, where there could have been no
possible danger had the men been passing to their cells; having gone a
few steps, I heard the voice of the warden calling out,
sternly,--"Chaplain, here, what are you doing with that key?" I informed
him, and received the reply, "Bring that key right back. You must not
touch a key." Quietly obeying, I returned the article and never touched
it again, thinking, "If he will speak out to me as an irritated father
to a vexatious boy, what can be expected for the prisoners?" He had a
perfect right to require me not to use the key, and I had a right to a
gentlemanly treatment. I uttered not a word, though I could not help
thinking. Afterwards when needing to enter the chapel, I must ask a
guard, perhaps a mere boy, to go and unlock and lock the door for me,
which seemed really ludicrous. Shortly after, I heard the warden
speaking of his enormous burden in the line of watchfulness,--"I have to
watch not only the prisoners to keep them right, but also the workmen,
overseers, guards, steward, physician and chaplain."
At another time I asked him to change the position of a class in the
Sabbath school to accommodate the singing, and received an answer not so
insolent in tone as before, but, with the connected circumstances,
equally clear for me to understand that I must propose no move, make no
suggestion whatever about the school, leaving everything in that line to
him. I could open and close the school and hear also those not otherwise
provided for.
Again, finding a man in his cell with no lesson, he having broken his
glasses, I passed them to the deputy to be repaired. Days passed, and no
glasses were returned. Meeting the warden, I alluded to the matter. He
replied, "Chaplain, I would have you know that when a man needs
anything, he must speak of it to the deputy or to me. You have no
business with these things." To my inquiry, "Am I to understand that
now, after speaking to you about the glasses, and putting them in the
deputy's hands, the man must speak to one of you himself, before they
can be returned?" he answered, "Certainly." Hence, on my next round, I
said to the owner, "Please speak to the warden or deputy about your
glasses, and they will return them, probably, all right," not giving him
the least hint as to how matters really stood, though I could but think,
"Here is red-tapeism with a vengeance; not permitted to speak of
anything in my own department." Waiting for a time, and thinking that
neither law nor gospel would object to my lending him my own, this I
did, which he used until liberated. True, after some weeks, glasses were
brought him, in which, however, he could not see.
Thus I was effectively taught my bounds, to touch nothing about the
prison but my books, to suggest no change any way, and to bring nothing
to the warden, or deputy, about a prisoner, which bounds I was ever
careful to observe.
There was an attendant rule to this red tapeism, as I understood it,
that bore hard on the prisoners,--that one must ask for a thing but
once. Some would ask me to help them to an article, when I would say,
"You must go with that to the deputy, or warden." They replied, "I have,
with the promise of it, but it does not come." Or, perhaps, "I ventured
to ask the second time, and received the stern reply, 'Don't you ever
mention that to me, again.'"
A forlorn condition this,--the State placing her wards helplessly under
a man who is not to be reminded of a request, which had slipped his
mind, perhaps, through the multiplicity of business. Surely, such a man
should be very considerate and particularly careful about attending to
the needs of his dependents.
The lessons taught me, the spirit manifested with all the surroundings,
gave me to understand that I must walk in everything with the utmost
circumspection or be mercilessly dealt with. True, I had ever labored to
do all things in my prison management just as I should, ever acting with
an eye single to the best prison order; but circumstances now evidently
demanded of me a double care, that my every step should not only be
right but appear right, and no shadow of grounds for complaint be any
way found.
9. _Prisoners' Aid Association._ In the spring of '70, a company of
ladies and gentlemen organized under the N. H. statutes into a corporate
body by this title, to hold its annual meeting in the city of Concord,
the second Tuesday of each June, the avowed purpose being to aid the
discharged convicts by proper advice, and help them to places of labor
without delay, where they may enjoy the needed society privileges,
guardian care, and a general influence in favor of their best success,
paying for them such small bills as may be necessary for this purpose.
The legislature of that season voted the Association three hundred
dollars, to aid it in its benevolent work, I being appointed agent for
that purpose.
10. _Complaint of prison hunger._ Late in the summer, a man, leaving
prison, complained that the prison living was not as good as that of the
past year, the rations being poorer in quality, and less in quantity;
that, at times, he had really so suffered with hunger that he could not
sleep at night. I questioned him carefully, and he appeared honest in
his statements, still, this being the first I had heard of such
complaints, I would not form an opinion from this assertion, for he
might be telling the story to injure the warden. But he gave this
account here and there in the city, so that it was circulated widely. A
lady, as she asserts, asked the prison physician if the rations had been
reduced, and he replied that they had to some extent.
The reader will understand, that while I had no right to converse with
the inmates about their food, and other like subjects, and did not while
they were there confined, yet, when they had been released and become
citizens, nothing lay in the way of my freely conversing with them on
all matters as with others.
11. _Chaplain's object in hearing from released prisoners and others._
This object was purely to learn the true working of things, and thus be
prepared to conduct myself understandingly in all my prison duties. I
had served a year under a certain system, studying with care its
workings and effects on the men, and had now entered service under one
that seemed measurably different, the operations of which, also, I ought
to comprehend. I would, therefore, listen to those who were released,
study what might come to hand in this way, from personal observation in
official intercourse, or from reading authors, and use whatever hints
were gained, to the best advantage.
But one says, "Those fellows from prison will lie." Grant that. Grant
that here are twenty of the greatest liars in the State about to leave
prison in course. But they have no opportunity, while there, for mutual
conversation and planning a particular story to tell on leaving; nor do
they even know of having an opportunity, outside, to talk with me or any
particular one. They severally leave their confinement, each giving
account of his experience, which I put down. On looking these carefully
over, a line of substantial agreement is found running through the
whole. We cut off whatever, in any, seems essentially deviating. But
every judge in the land will admit that that general line contains the
truth.
This illustrates my course of procedure, and my grounds for believing
prisoners. Then, again, where one voluntarily, without my alluding to
the matter, gave me an account of a subject, part of which I knew to be
correct, I had every reason to believe the remainder was correct, also.
12. _B. and E.'s request, and the connected abuse._ These men, before
spoken of, had become much interested in the moral and religious
instruction given by those lady friends, Mrs. E. and D., to whom they
had been introduced in the manner already pointed out. Request was
extended to the warden that they might have the privilege of
corresponding, but he peremptorily refused; why, none could conceive,
though some would contend that the reason must be found in the
vindictive, for the correspondence was to go through the usual channel
and be open to his own inspection, that, had anything objectionable
appeared, he could have suppressed it, or stopped the whole
correspondence. Those ladies were capable of writing excellent letters,
letters by which any right-minded man would be benefited, the warden
himself being judge. I have no doubt that should he meet some of their
productions, unaware of their authorship, he would pronounce them of a
superior character, and say that "the more of such writings the
prisoners can have to read, the better." The men did not ask for a
personal interview with those ladies, but simply their words; words
which would stimulate them to higher aims, and enable them the better to
endure the trials of prison life. The warden possessed the right, if he
chose to exercise it, to interdict this correspondence wholly. But I
protest that he had no right to defame those ladies, villify their
character, and speak of them to those men, and to prison visitors from
whatever part of the country, as "those mean women," "those base women,"
"those low women."
As before stated, they were ladies with the best of characters,--earnest
Christian workers, invited to the interviews by the mother and warden,
and always having them in the presence of the latter. These visits were
for a most praiseworthy purpose. If it is ever right for a high-minded,
upright, Christian lady to call on the fallen for the purpose of helping
them rise from their degraded state, those ladies are to be commended
for the efforts they made in behalf of those prisoners.
But these men were forced to suffer no little abuse in relation to those
visits,--not by fellow prisoners, understand. They were taunted in the
most vulgar, low, indecent language. One day it went so far with one,
that he became aroused beyond endurance, and replied, "You know that is
a ---- ---- lie," filling the blanks with two most profane words as
qualifying "lie." On my next round he told me his trouble, what he had
said, how he was being assailed, and that he probably must relinquish
all idea of being any better. I replied, "Don't you understand what all
this is for? It is the work of Satan, for your destruction. They would
excite you to anger and turn you to your old life of profanity and
wickedness; if possible, sink you as low as ever. You have but one
course to pursue, and that is, to pay no attention to them. Let them say
what they may, give it no more notice than the idle wind. Be sure and
not suffer yourself to become irritated, or say a word in return, and
they will probably leave you. But if not, endure it patiently, and pray
God to forgive what you have done amiss and keep you in the future." In
following this course, he succeeded better.
13. _Alleged prison conspiracy._ The next one who left made no complaint
of the living, he had been sick and received all the food he desired,
but he asserted that trouble was brewing at the prison; that they were
planning to kill the warden. I made light of the idea as something of
his own conjuring up, that the prisoners would not undertake such a
matter. Finally he said, "Mark my words, Chaplain, there will be blood
shed over there within a month." This man was a singular genius, and I
thought he might wish to start such a story to nettle the warden.
Besides, they were as vigilant as possible at the prison, and the
inmates would find them alert, should they attempt to rise. From all
considerations, I thought it not worth while to speak of the case to
any. Still, it would do no harm to prepare and deliver a discourse from
the text, "Vengeance is mine and I will repay, saith the Lord,"
designing to show the impolicy of attempting to take vengeance into
one's own hands, and that vengeance should be left for God to
repay.--The discourse was given, and things passed on as usual, no
signs of an outbreak appearing, and I finally gave the matter up as one
of the man's imaginings.
But, the next spring, one of the prisoners, when leaving, alluded to a
combination of a number, the year previous, and said considerable
preparation for the work had been made, but after hearing that Sabbath's
discourse, so many abandoned the project that the leaders had to
relinquish their effort. This was repeated in substance by another.
Hence, after all, it appeared that what the first man said may have been
true, and that, possibly, my poor labors may have been of service to the
warden, perhaps saved his life. Certainly, I did what I could.
14. _National Prison Reform Congress._ In October this body assembled
for deliberation at Cincinnati, O., it being the first gathering of the
kind. Delegates were present from a large number of the United States,
also from the British Provinces and South America, but I was the only
one from New Hampshire. The great, central ideas pervading the body were
the finding of the best method of prison management and how to introduce
this to general and uniform use. All the subjects so earnestly grappled
there, would hinge around these. The field was somewhat widely examined
and much discussion awakened,--discussion earnest, though courteous. The
religious element largely predominated, and great harmony prevailed.
True, an atheist attempted to throw in a firebrand by making a cat's paw
of the Jew, but wholly failed, not exciting a single remark in reply. A
U. S. judge was present, several State judges, a number of governors and
ex-governors, lawyers, clergymen, philanthropists in private life and
prison officials, showing that the move had taken strong hold of that
class, especially, which will push it forward.
Those prison officers present who had ever persisted in the knock-down
argument of former generations, were moved forward many years. I thought
of N. H., and wished that some of her fossils could have been present
and become vitalized. What a blessing it would be to the State!
The points considered and settled, so far as that body could settle
them, were drawn up in thirty-seven articles for general distribution.
One set forth reform as the paramount object of imprisoning, another,
that kindness and humane treatment should prevail in all prison
management. But the reader would be well repaid by sending for the
"Transactions" of the body, a work of some seven hundred pages, and
carefully perusing it. It will cost three dollars, and is to be had of
Rev. E. C. Wines, D. D., No. 48 Bible House, N. Y.
The convention was not only pleasant in itself, but also in its
surroundings. The city extended it a welcome through an excellent
address by the Mayor, inviting the body to a dinner and visit to its
public institutions and places of interest, and furnishing coaches to
convey the members. It also provided a convenient hall for the sittings.
A number of the city societies also invited us to their gatherings.
This Congress arranged for its perpetuity by becoming an incorporate
body in some State and holding its sessions biennially. This has been
consummated by obtaining a charter in the State, of New York,
Ex-Governor Seymour being President, and Rev. E. C. Wines, Cor.
Secretary. It also took incipient steps for an international congress to
be held in London, England, choosing Dr. Wines also as Commissioner to
carry the proposal into effect.
15. _Money-making and punishing, the paramount objects in our prison
management._ For a time, I had been at a loss about the real objects of
the present manner of conducting prison affairs, but it had become
evident that money-making and punishing were those objects. To the
former the prison agent and warden seemed bending their united energies
as best they could. They would make a better exhibit of gains than ever
before, a great compliment to the one as a financier and to the other as
a prison manager. To this end, they would bend their efforts in
purchasing and disbursing, having, to appearance, left all moral
considerations out of the question. I was informed that the warden said,
"I will clear five thousand for the State this year, if I have to use up
every man in doing it."
Then punishment was to go hand and hand with this gain making, as the
warden was reported as saying to the prisoners, "I mean to use you so
that you will not wish to come back," meaning, of course, usage beyond
what the law and courts contemplate.
16. _Waste paper in the cells._ The warden's clearing the cells of this
has been spoken of and a connected point, I could not comprehend. In the
course of months, all became clear. The fly leaves of the library books,
and some of the other leaves, were gone, which told the story.
Had it been the season previous, I should have detected the matter
sooner and stopped it, but now I could not. Then, when the general
repairs were made to the library, I found that many of the books had
been lost, to avoid which, in the future, I adopted a new method here,
of charging every book let out and crediting its return. But this
required no little increase of labor, in consideration of which, the
former warden furnished me an assistant in the book charging and book
inspection. On two Saturdays after the new warden came in, I asked for
the usual assistance, but, from what passed, I found it best to ask no
more for aid, and decided to do the work myself as best I could,
continuing the account keeping, however, though with no possibility of
the former inspection.
I supposed the warden desired me to curtail the book changing, for,
passing the table one day, loaded with books ready for the hall, he
said, "Why, chaplain, the men don't need all those books." My reply was,
"They called for them all." "Well," said he, "they can not read them;"
meaning, as I took it, that I should not furnish so many. But I was
particular to give out all called for, a more generous supply, it is
true, than formerly, for the purpose of keeping the men engaged and
quiet under his peculiar management.
17. _Defective beds and bedding._ Those iron cross bars to the bedsteads
cut the straw, hence the former warden made it a point to refill the
beds once a quarter, but the latter filled them perhaps once in six
months. Indeed, some would be neglected till nothing could be found in
the bed-tick but a mass of chaff-like substance to which the straw had
been reduced, thus leaving the occupant with little besides the bare
slats on which to sleep. Men would at times complain that, from that
cause, they could obtain but little rest at night, and were in the
morning so sore and stiff that, for a time, it would be difficult for
them to move.
During the fall they did not attend to the needed general mending and
refitting of the old comfortables and bedspreads, though some were
ragged and filthy, or worn so thin as to be but little better than so
many strainers. The cells on the lower floor were exceptions. But few of
these were used. All the beds were kept well filled; having good
spreads, sheets and pillow cases. They made a few comfortables for these
unused beds, and indeed all these cells were kept in good order, nicely
dusted, &c., and the doors were set open by day for visitors to admire.
Hence, I would hear them crying out, "How nice you keep things here!
What comfortable beds! How neat!" I would think within,--not aloud, for
that would not do,--"O that you could look into those higher up. You
might cry out, 'Pig's nests!'" These new comfortables were made only
two-thirds the usual width, answering well for an unused bed. Still I
did occasionally see one on a bed in use.
As I was informed, a gentleman from outside had a view of those upper
cells, the warden saying, in excuse for their condition, that he put the
more slovenly in them, those who would not keep their cells in order.
But the real truth of that matter is, some of the neatest men occupied
those higher cells intermingled with those not so neat, the men being
located as to their cells according to their position at work in the
shop.
The sheets were so scarce as not to afford a full change for washing,
requiring some to use dirty sheets, for a time, from another's bed,
though less dirty than their own.
The former warden had been aiming to have, so far as could be, two suits
to a man, a common, every day suit, and one better for Sabbaths, &c., it
being thought that this would tend to refine and elevate the prisoners.
Hence, he left them with a generous supply, well fitted up. But it would
need more or less renewing and refitting in the fall, which it did not
receive, but was made to answer by patching. Hence, patched and ragged
clothes would be of no uncommon occurrence, as all became thin from long
wear, the under-clothing, especially, much needing repairs and renewing.
The main seamstress left the next April, and told me that after this
warden came in, up to that time, they had made one new suit and one
other jacket, the new suit for the Newmarket murderer, who was too large
for any they had on hand.
18. _Cracked wheat dinner._ In the fall, there was much complaint among
the prisoners that their Monday dinner, which they formerly prized as
the best in the week, had been changed to a dish that few liked and many
could not eat. It was boiled cracked wheat with a little meat chopped
in, no sauce or other relish upon it. I mentioned the case to the
doctor, who said, "They purchased a quantity of potatoes, half a peck of
which I took to my house and cooked, finding only one or two, among the
whole, fit to put into the human stomach. Hence, I looked over my army
dietary, found the cracked wheat answered a good purpose, and proposed
it here." The potatoes were watery.
My attention had now been so loudly called to the prison living by the
complaints of those liberated, that I determined to observe for myself,
so far as opportunity might offer, keeping my own counsel in this as in
all other matters, that I might be the better prepared to judge of the
truthfulness of their stories. Notwithstanding the cracked wheat, those
potatoes were set before them. If not at this meal, they were at others,
but largely returned untouched. The substituted dish would also be
regularly returned by a large number. But why purchase these potatoes
"not fit to be put into the human stomach"? True, many such were in the
market, but there were good ones, too, though costing more money.
Families in the city found no difficulty about obtaining a good article.
These, of course, came at a low figure, favoring here, as did everything
else, this money-making idea.
19. _Bad fish, &c._ In the fall, the agent informed me, he had made for
the state what he considered a great bargain, in the purchase of between
one and two tons of fish. He said, "I found this in the hands of a man
who had attempted to prepare it after a certain patent, but had, some
way, missed his point and could not sell it. Had he succeeded, it would
have brought thirteen cents a pound. He offered it to me for three. I
took some to the prison, and they said that they could use it, hence, I
purchased the whole." He further remarked, that the article was covered
with a reddish mold. This, I was informed, is a sign of decay in fish.
He also alluded to the great reduction in price he obtained on his
prison supply of molasses.--It should be understood that this is used at
all times in prison, on bread, as a substitute for butter.
After this, those leaving prison had these additional grounds for
complaint. They complained, also, that the tobacco was very bad in
quality and scant in quantity, the very cheapest article. One said that
the scent of the fish carried into his cell at noon, would not be gone
on his return at night. A woman, a waiter on the prison family table at
the time of the purchase of the fish, informed me of its ordeal there.
Nothing having been said to call her attention that way, but of her own
accord, she said, "They bought a lot of bad fish at the prison, and the
warden would have some prepared for the family table. He ate of it
himself, pronounced it good, and wished the deputy, guards and overseers
to eat of it also; but they would not, though he offered one a dollar,
if he would." Now, as this woman's story was true as to the purchasing
of the article and its quality, we have every reason to suppose it true
in other respects. One said of the cracked wheat, that he could not
force it down; it would made him sick; that others about him were
similarly effected in their attempts to eat of the article.
20. _Prison suffering from cold during the winter of '70 & '71._ From
the character of the food and clothing, the one not fitted to generate
the needed supply of warmth within, nor the other to give the requisite
protection without, the men, to pass the rigors of winter, especially
such as that of '70 and '71, without suffering, would need an unusually
generous supply of artificial heat in the hall and shop. But instead of
that, they were forced to experience the biting reality of a cutting off
here, too, the place being too important for money-saving not to be
used. True, it would cost something, but the custom had been to keep
the hall comfortable through cold weather. Early in the morning they
would let the steam into the shop and have that warm when the men were
ready to commence their work, and keep it so during the day. But a
different policy had now been adopted.
The present fall had nearly passed and no steam had been admitted into
these apartments at all, the cook-room and reception-room drawing from
the waste steam and engine boilers. People outside had long been using
fires constantly and freely. At length, a remark of the warden to
company, revealed the theory he was pretending then to act upon. The
temperature, at the time, was low in the hall, and some excuse evidently
appeared to be needful. The remark was this: "I have not let the heat
into this hall yet, for I think it best to do with that as people ought
to do with regard to under-clothing, keep it off as late as possible in
the fall, and it will do them more good in winter. And, besides, these
stones were so heated up last summer, that they have not become fully
cooled yet." "What a happy thing for the men, when shivering here, as
they do with the cold, could they find some of that stored up heat,"
thought I. But they could not, and hence were called to experience a
severe foretaste of what lay before them in still colder weather.
But at length the hall boiler was set to work, bringing warmth and
gladness to the men. And how cheerful and thankful they appeared! It was
really a comfort to witness their relief, as I went about my labors.
This, however, was only for a few days, for a great drain was being made
upon the wood-pile, incurring too large a draft upon the prison gains to
be endured. The boiler was stopped, to be run no more for the winter,
dependence for heat here, in the future, to be had upon the steam, waste
or otherwise, from the shop boilers, and even that but sparingly.
The custom adopted was to let the steam into the hall pipes just before
the men were to enter from work, could it be spared from the cook room,
sometimes perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, and then turned off early in
the evening. That, of course, could do but little good, and hence a
really keen atmosphere would at times be felt in the hall, causing much
suffering there. How great the contrast to that of the office, which was
so warm that the occupants would be at work with coats off; or the
reception room, where I would perspire in labor upon my books, and enter
the hall to find it much like going directly out of doors. Twice I thus
took severe colds, after which I usually wore an overcoat to this
apartment during the severe weather.
When those keen nights came on, some of the men would beg of me most
pitiably for more bed-clothing, asserting that they were suffering
alive, it sometimes seeming as though they must perish. I could only
direct them to the warden or deputy for this. One said, "I have asked
the warden, who replied, 'You have more clothes on your bed now than you
ever had at home,' and passed on." This man had one of those
strainer-like spreads and another somewhat thicker, doing well enough
for early fall, but not a suitable protection in such weather. Another
said, "Suffering so with cold that sleep is out of the question, I
arise, dress, wrap about me what bedding I have, and walk my cell for
the night, in that way keeping as much as possible from suffering."
The first evening after hearing these earnest pleadings, I met the
steward and asked if he could not furnish these men with more clothing,
with the answer, "The fact is, these fellows are down on the warden and
determined to keep asking for something." To which I replied, "They very
much need more clothing, and must greatly suffer without it." He
answered, "Oh, our soldiers in the army suffered a great deal more than
these fellows do, and you thought nothing of that. The fact is, you have
too much feeling for these men." I left, with the remark, "I think we
ought to have some humanity about us."
Thus was the attempt made to plaster over this outrageous cruelty by
alluding to events which could not, in the very nature of things, be
avoided. I say outrageous, for there was bedding enough on those unused
beds, such as it was, to have done something towards relieving this
suffering, but they would not permit them to have that. Then New
Hampshire possessed wood and water enough to keep that room comfortable.
If the boiler needed repairs, workmen for doing that were at hand; or,
if it needed renewing, that could have been easily accomplished. Or they
might have set large coal stoves at work.
But all did not thus lack for bedding. Some, by oversight or favoritism,
had a surplus, using comfortables as a substitute for straw. A man thus
supplied sent one of his extra number to the relief of another, as this
sufferer subsequently informed me.
On those cold Sabbaths, the men would wrap their bed clothing about
them, sit reclining on their beds, and read. The warden would not allow
the shop to be warmed at all. Those cold mornings and those cold days it
was excessively severe. The overseers had to bundle up with extra
clothing to prevent suffering. One day the men had become too much
benumbed to work and the foreman stopped the machinery, let the steam
into the shop, thawed them out, and then went on again.
Having heard the warden say that the water in their reservoir was low,
causing him fears of its failing, and meeting the governor, to his
inquiry about our prison affairs, I alluded to the coldness there and
the warden's remark, and received the reply, "Why, it won't do to let
the men suffer with the cold. If need be, he must haul water from the
river," and he sent the warden a letter to that import. But no water was
hauled, and no amelioration had from the cold till, at length, when the
severest weather had nearly passed, one of the council visited the
prison and ordered a coal stove to be placed in a part of the hall,
which gave a measure of alleviation. Still the men continued to suffer
more or less till the change of weather brought the desired relief. They
will ever look back to that as a suffering winter.
The women probably suffered less from the cold than the men. Still, they
were put on short allowance and were obliged to carry their wood up
those two flights of stairs, taking it from quite a distance out of
doors, some of it being very large. One of those cold Sabbaths, entering
their room for meeting, I found it so cold as to endanger my health,
and, not then knowing the restrictions, I attempted to kindle the fire,
but found only a few coals in the stove and one large stick in the box,
which I placed with the coals, but with little effect. We had short
exercises, and I left them to endure this temperature as best they
could.
The women would watch the warden and steal a little extra, when he
stepped out of sight, thus occasionally enjoying the genial warmth; if
detected, however, to receive a gratuitous lecture. Finding, at length,
that this extra labor was preying sadly upon their health, and having
repeatedly importuned the warden for relief in vain, they turned to his
wife, who informed him of the real effects being produced, with the
assurance that the continuance of this drudgery would shortly bring the
sufferers upon beds of sickness, requiring him to hire outside help, to
care for them and perform the tasks in which they had failed. This
gained the victory, but not till great injury had been done to the
victims, the strongest, on whom the burden of carrying the largest had
fallen, having thus laid the foundation for weeks of severe sickness and
leaving prison an invalid, though previously a robust, healthy woman.
21. _Lighting the hall._ The candles having been banished from the
cells, the gas was set at work when evening arrived. But at length the
men began to complain of the great strain upon their eyes, and finally
of failing sight. Advising them to lay aside reading and study till
relief could be had, I reported the matter to the doctor, and, I think,
to the governor. Not seeing any remedial move, however, I resorted to
the dollar and cent consideration, and, on investigating, found that,
while they were paying $50 per month for that poor light, I could light
the cells with candles, three a week to a cell, probably for fourteen
dollars. I offered to obligate myself to do it for twenty, and receive
only the actual cost whatever it might be below; also to see that no
additional trouble came from the melting of the tallow. This argument
prevailed, and the warden was ordered to furnish the candles, though he
allowed only two a week to a cell. Some of the men were amused and some
provoked at the manner of his announcing the change: "I have concluded
to furnish you with candles, for your good, and hope you will use them
as such;" for, it seems, they knew by what means the relief had come,
though how I never understood.
22. _The aid of the Association to released prisoners, and warden's
course._ The Association proved itself as advantageous to the discharged
prisoners as the most ardent laborer for its establishment had hoped. An
unusually large number left prison the present year, forty-two. In warm
weather many would not require pecuniary aid, while others would. Thus,
one required cooper's tools to the amount of six and one-half dollars;
another, a railroad pass to Ohio, for twelve dollars; a third, a pass to
Wisconsin, at thirty-one dollars; a fourth, carpenter's tools at six
dollars; then smaller sums, here and there.
The Wisconsin man left prison sick, and must have been a public charge
here, while his friends would give him a home, if with them, though
unable to pay his fare thither.
The Association had not arranged for furnishing the men with clothing,
supposing the State would properly attend to that, as previously,
through her warden. But as the winter now approached, the society found
itself driven to the necessity of helping in this, too, by the fact that
the present warden would furnish the men with only the same outfit as in
summer, the under-clothes they might happen to have on at the time,
added. And, in making out this summer suit, he would construe the letter
of the law in the superlative degree, which says, "A suit of cheap
clothing,"--he obtaining the cheapest, the most miserably poor. To
illustrate, a man left prison in one of those suits, and, before walking
a mile, was obliged to call and borrow sewing implements to repair them.
The day after, another left, and had worn the shirt furnished him about
one day, when, taking him to a shop for the purpose of trying on a
coat, I found that one sleeve of the shirt had wholly parted from the
body, and the other about half. Another man had worn his pants less than
twelve hours when they needed mending.
I went to the shop-keeper and lectured him for such dealing, to which he
replied, "I have to be governed by the price the warden will pay. He
will not pay for anything better. If he would, I should furnish a better
article, and prefer that to this method."
At almost every turn I was met with this money-making system. Well, this
could be endured in warm, balmy weather, though truly annoying to the
poor fellows; but in the full rigors of the winter of '70 and '71, it
was cruel, to say the least.
Let us take a few specimens of this practice. In nearly the severest
weather of that winter, a man came to me from the prison to be sent
home, some two hundred miles beyond Bangor, Me. As I looked at him I was
perfectly astonished that we had a man among us who would think, for a
moment, of sending away a dependent, human being, and sickly, too, in
such a plight; a rather thin coat, vest and pants that might last him
two or three days; no collar, cravat, mittens, overcoat, or boots, but
brogans, and those not mates, one of which so pinched his foot that he
was forced to remove it shortly after coming in. His person and clothes
were filthy indeed, not having seen water for weeks. I could but
exclaim, "What a condition! The law says, 'a suit of cheap clothing
suited to the season,' and this is such a suit!"
In addition to all this, as the man asserted, the warden asked him, on
passing out, "How long do you think it will be before you will contrive
to get back here again?" Was not that cool? He himself robbing the
fallen one of his just due, a suit of comfortable clothing fitted to
the season, and turning him away under those circumstances which would
almost of necessity force him to steal to avoid perishing, and then
taunt him with such a question?
As yet, our Association had not practiced clothing the men, and of
course the warden had no reason to suppose we should.
Keeping my feelings under calm subjection, I went to the prison and
asked him if he did not purpose to furnish the man with boots, overcoat,
&c., to which he responded in his short, pompous way, "No; when I was
deputy here, the men were sent out in just what they happened to have on
at the time." After talking till evidently of no further avail, I
remarked, "I am a native of New Hampshire, and have some regard for the
honor of my State, and I will never disgrace it by sending a man to
Maine in such a plight as you propose. I shall fix him up." To which he
answered, "I would not carry the matter too far." Well, I did not carry
the matter too far, but took the man to the store, shivering by the way,
and purchased for him the needed articles, cheap but good,--boots $5.00,
overcoat $6.50, and so on,--and returned home with him, where he cast
off his "filthy rags," took a warm bath, donned his new under-clothes
and came out feeling like a different man, though feeble. He took a bad
cold that day by being out in his thin apparel, and passed a hard night,
leading us to fear that he would have a fever. But his anxiety helped
him the next morning, when he set off, the railroad men giving him a
free pass, thus showing that humanity was not all dead in this region.
Soon another was released in a somewhat worse condition, as to clothing,
than the above, though with better health. His drawers had one leg
wholly minus, the other coming down nearly to the knee, what pretended
to remain being in tatters.
Two from western Maine were pardoned one evening and went away early the
next morning in the suit given by the warden, without my knowledge. The
severe weather must have caused them no little suffering, especially as
they must end their journey by a long walk through a deep snow, with
their brogans, and one of them was a sickly man.
Another, liberated without my knowledge, started on foot for Providence,
R. I., to follow the railroad track. Learning the fact in a few moments,
I hastened after him, but to no avail. I heard that his outfit was
similar to those above described. I should have clothed him comfortably
and furnished a pass by rail, had I overtaken him.
The warden now maintained that he had no concern with the men after
leaving prison, and usually took no pains to inform me of their
departure; hence, if I did not keep a close watch myself, more or less
would leave without my knowledge. My practice usually was to obtain a
list each month, from the deputy, of those who would leave during the
four following weeks.
The reader will see that I had a good opportunity of knowing the state
of the men's under-clothing, from those thus leaving; and further, I
would find more or less mending their clothes on the Sabbath. One day a
man was at work on his pants, which had become perfectly indecent to
wear. On a week day, finding a man in bed in his cell, I inquired if he
was sick, to which he replied, "No, I am having my pants mended."
Another man brought out the shoes he had been accustomed to wear in
prison. No, he could not do that; but they came out; how, I never knew,
and he brought them to me. It would be difficult to tell which most
abounded, holes or leather. I knew they were his, for I had often seen
them on his feet in the prison; though they appeared much worse on a
near inspection than at a distance.
An aged prisoner, whose feet were large and lame, wore his shoes sandal
fashion, tying them on with such strings as he could find. When I would
ask him how he did, he usually replied, "Oh, lame and suffering terribly
with my feet." Having nothing but his stockings to protect them from the
cold, this must have been severe in winter, though, when in the shop,
his fellow prisoners would heat bits of plank and pass to him, on which
he could stand and thus be relieved in a measure. I asked him if he
could not wear his shoes in the usual way, to which he said, "No, they
are too small. Had I very large ones I could. I have asked for such, but
they will not obtain me any." The requisite shoes must have been made
purposely for the convict, large and of very soft leather, costing, no
doubt, more than ordinary shoes. But they would have brought great
relief to an old, suffering man.
But our Prison Aid Association, notwithstanding its efforts for good,
met those who opposed it. Hence, one told me that the concern was
organized for the purpose of running an opposition to the prison, all I
could say to which was, "If helping the men, as above described, be
running an opposition to the prison, it was organized for that very
purpose; otherwise, not." But the man was, no doubt, nettled that the
prisoners were looked after on leaving prison, and not permitted to go
as the warden provided.
Some, again, pretended that the influence of the Association was in
favor of having the prisoners remain in and about Concord. This was the
very thing we labored against, or one of them, at least. The Agent, and
every active member, invariably used their influence in favor of their
going to other places, and especially to keep them away from their old
haunts and associations. I knew, however, that there were influences
used here, and among prison officers, too, to keep men in the city.
Some, for whom I had provided good places away, were tampered with and
thus influenced to remain.
23. _Lecturing for the Prison Aid Association._ To widen the influence
of this body and become personally acquainted with places where we could
send our men for suitable employment and care, the idea was conceived of
giving occasional lectures, in favorable localities within the State, on
the interests in question. For this purpose, I went out four times
during the winter. Besides treating upon the objects and needs of the
Association, I alluded to some of the prison matters, such as the
proposition in the governor's then late message for the management of
the institution to be put under a permanent Board, the responsibility of
which the legislature largely shirked, by turning the whole matter into
the hands of the governor and council;--for reasons given, the very
place where it should not be;--expressed the hope that the next
legislature would do its full duty upon the matter; referred also to the
much needed repairs just made, and hoped they would be carried still
further, improving the manner of lighting the prison by having a small
gas jet at each cell, also provide a library room, &c.; but of course I
wholly avoided alluding to the internal management of matters at the
institution. My attention was called particularly to this point,
however, in one place, by the question being publicly asked by a
gentleman, "How are the prisoners treated there?" in reference to which
I begged the gentleman to excuse me from answering his question, as I
wished to keep the mind on other points. That was true, but it was not
the whole of the truth. The question itself was not a proper one to
answer then in that place. Could I have conscientiously said, "Well," it
would have been done in a moment and been all right, but that I could
not do, and besides, I hoped that our rulers would soon get their eyes
opened, or the next legislature put things on a proper basis and matters
pass off without having anything publicly said. Indeed, I knew but
little then of the prison workings in comparison with what I afterwards
learned.
24. _Prison correspondence under the new rule._ The former warden had
solicited me to assist in the correspondence, and I would write for a
prisoner occasionally, but pass it to the warden for his examination,
till he said, "You need not pass them to me, send them yourself. You
know what to write just as well as I do." Hence, I sent a very few in
the course of a year without his examination. The reader will understand
that all letters, to and from a prisoner, must be thoroughly examined,
that nothing prohibited may pass. They are allowed to speak of personal
family matters, but nothing of general, secular affairs. The prisoner
would not be permitted, of course, to express any dissatisfaction at
prison fare or treatment.
The new warden put the entire matter of correspondence into the hands of
his deputy, without asking me to do anything about it. Hence, when
subsequently solicited to pass a letter as before, I would answer, "I
have no right to do that, and can not. You must pass your letter to the
deputy." On one occasion, being rather hard pressed to step over the
bounds and pass a line, with the assurance it should never be known,
&c., &c., I gave the decided negative, adding, "It makes no difference
whether known or unknown, the step will be violating the prison rule and
my purpose is so to proceed that at all times and under all
circumstances, I can say with a clear conscience, I have duly observed
every rule." This ended all attempts to influence me in that direction.
Still, I supposed it proper and nothing inconsistent with good prison
order, for me to speak of a prisoner's health and success to a friend
whom I met outside and to the prisoner of having met the friend and of
personal family concerns; or to encourage the prisoners to write to
their friends, if thus requested by letter; or to write to friends
myself, by request of the prisoners. I did something in this line a very
few times, perhaps not a half dozen in all.
Meeting a sister of a prisoner out of the city, one day, I answered her
earnest inquiries about his health, and his reform efforts, carrying
back to him also a word about her health and a request that he write and
send to the new place to which she was about to locate.
A man had a petition before the governor and council for pardon. As
agent for our Association, I inquired of him if he had friends to whom
he could go, if successful, or what arrangement he would need made for
him. He answered that he left friends in England, years before, knew not
whether then living or dead, but he would like to return to them if
living. Writing as he directed, I soon received a reply stating that
some were living, and some were gone, and the earnest desire that he
return home at once to see his father alive, of which I informed him,
and on account of which his pardon was soon granted, and he left.
Finding a man, who had been here a number of months, in a gloomy and
despairing state because friends had not written him since being here,
thus giving him reason to feel that they had cast him off, in which case
he could not think of living, I wrote to these friends, urging them to
what they ought to have performed before. Soon he addressed me, when
passing, with a tone of cheer unknown in him since entering prison:
"Chaplain, my folks have not cast me off. I have received a good letter
from them. They will stand by me, which makes me feel a thousand dollars
better." Nor has he learned how his friends were stirred to write.
Thus, in a few cases, I acted in this direction and that for the purpose
of removing anxiety without and securing cheer and quietness within,
though making no allusions to the one about prison managing or to the
other of secular affairs.
24 1-2. _Chaplain under a system of espionage._ The former warden had
been accustomed to keep his eyes upon the officers, as well as upon the
men, to know that everything was moving orderly. The new incumbent took
the same course, the correct one so far as that was concerned, in order
to keep all matters in the prison perfectly straight. Nor did it lay me
under any restraint, as I wished to do right, for the place, in
everything, even though no eye might be upon me. My only anxiety in the
course would be that I might so walk as to have my steps appear as they
really were. Hence, my conduct there was constantly as though under the
strictest inspection. And, of course, under these circumstances, I would
do nothing but what I supposed to be correct, even if otherwise
inclined.
Thus, having passed a number of months with our new warden, a prisoner
said, one day, as I approached his cell, "Be careful, Chaplain; they are
watching you to see if they can't find some cause for turning you out."
Asking no questions, I passed on, not knowing what he meant. But it
started a new idea. "Am I under a system of especial surveillance?" I
then recollected having seen the guards frequently about where I would
be hearing lessons, though I had not noticed but that they were looking
after the men. By giving attention now, however, it was plain to see
that they were listening to what I said.
At length an overseer left the prison, and, on leaving, unfolded to me
the whole matter,--that they were set by the warden to watch my actions,
note with whom I conversed, hear what was said, put it down, and report
to him. He said, "I was set evenings to watch you from the guard-room,
through the spy-hole, but never found anything to report."
Learning this, I could but exclaim, "Consistency indeed! The warden can
furnish men enough for a system of espionage over me in the hall, when
toiling under such disadvantages and fatigues to help the convicts in
their efforts for knowledge, but will not spare even one to guard in the
chapel, where I could teach with comparative freedom from all these
drawbacks."
Usually, in this cell instruction, we spoke very low, just to hear each
other and thus not disturb those in near cells, or interfere with the
rule about stillness in the apartment; but, after this discovery, when
seeing the guards hanging about, I would purposely speak loud enough for
them to hear, and also when the warden himself would be listening to my
Sabbath school instruction. And they had the privilege of hearing as
good, wholesome truths as I was capable of bringing out.
25. _The chaplain's pacific efforts severely taxed._ We are beings of
want, and if locked in a cell unable to provide for ourselves, it is
wonderful to think how many things we should need to have furnished by
others, or suffer. True, we can curtail our wants to a number very much
fewer than artificial life would claim, but, when coming to the
indispensables, they are not a few. Hence, prisoners, under the kindest
treatment and well-furnished with food, clothing, warmth, and all that
nature would seem to crave, will need to call more or less frequently
for attentions, or find themselves lacking not a little. But under the
saving system of this year, calls from the cells must multiply, and, if
unheeded, give occasion for uneasiness, angry feelings and disorder.
Hence, under such circumstances, the chaplain would naturally be called
into the most active service. For, if we can not offer a man food enough
to satisfy the cravings of his appetite, the next thing is to reconcile
his mind to going without, or so engross his thoughts, that he shall not
so keenly feel the gnawings of hunger. Or, if one is cold, and we can
not bring the means of warmth, by presenting a satisfactory excuse or
interesting the intellect, we may do him essential service in helping
him calmly endure what he otherwise could not.
Precisely on these principles I acted, and engrossed the prisoner's
attention as earnestly and interestingly as possible, always, when
practicable, taking special pains to immediately furnish the thing
called for; or to excuse, when I could; or turn one's sufferings to as
profitable a lesson as could be, to him. Hence, when the cold was
reigning almost unmitigated in the cells, for a few days, I would repeat
to one and another what I heard the warden say, that "the water was low
and he feared it would wholly fail." Among the replies, one said, "Well,
then, we must bear it the best we can, though it is hard."
One day, coming to a man's cell to hear a lesson, he said, "I have no
lesson, I have been in the solitary. They did so and so to me, at which
I got mad, and would not do as they wished, and they put me in there." I
thought it likely, from the circumstances, that the impatience of an
officer and his irritating course had much, too much, to do with the
matter. But that was not for me to hint at, even. I rather said, "Well,
you say you got mad and have been in the solitary. See what you have
suffered for getting mad. How much better for you to govern your temper.
You know where you are, what you did to bring yourself here. You
understand what is required, and that refusal on your part is of no
avail. Now, why not govern yourself, no matter what they say? If you
really think they bear hard upon you, control your angry passions, and
do what they require as cheerfully and promptly as possible. Thus, you
can become accustomed here to governing yourself, that, when you go out,
you will be the better able to meet the vexations of the world. Now,
will you not try this course?" He replied, "I don't know, Chaplain, it
is a hard case." In a few days he remarked, "Chaplain; I have been
almost constantly thinking of what you said the other day, have come to
the conclusion that your way is the best, and am resolved to attempt
putting it in practice." With most hearty congratulations on his new
resolve, I left him again. Some weeks after I received from his lips
this satisfactory report: "Well, Chaplain, I have been practicing your
method since our last conversation, and find it works like a charm. I
have but little trouble now, and am determined to keep on as I have
begun." Thus he proceeded till released. This man was naturally
irritable and easily angered. He had not previously labored to control
himself in regard to this important point; but now, when summoning all
his better powers to the task, he resolutely addressed his mind to it,
and a noble victory was his.
There was another man here who also could be easily aroused, but was
perhaps still more stubborn, when angry. He, too, had been an inmate of
the solitary more or less. To him I appealed in a manner similar to the
above, and, after persistent labors, succeeded in inducing him to
earnestly try the proposed course, and with like results. But he was a
man who needed frequent encouragement to help him calmly endure the
vexations and annoyances almost constantly surrounding him. Hence, he
maintained his self-control and kept from trouble while he had one to
labor for his continuance in well-doing, but afterwards he fell into
difficulty again, and would consequently become an inmate of the
solitary. Thus I proceeded, and, by assiduous efforts, robbed this dark
abode of many hours of occupancy.
There were others not rendering themselves liable to the dungeon, but
who would become filled with angry, revengeful emotions at what they
were forced to endure. I would labor to induce these to use what they
experienced as a means of self-culture, to leave the acts of others in
the hands of God, submit calmly to what they could not avoid, do their
own duties faithfully, and in all things keep themselves strictly in the
right. Thus I was almost constantly called to speak a word here and a
word there to a pacific end, and labored untiringly in that direction.
In the women's department, also, these efforts were found needed. One of
the inmates, whom we will call K., had often caused them no little
trouble. With all their efforts, she would contrive to keep almost a
constant broil among them. Hence, I decided to see what could be done,
in her case, by moral and religious efforts. Therefore, one Sabbath,
after our usual service, I remained awhile for personal conversation
with the inmates respecting their desires and feelings on the subject of
reform, purposely coming to K. last. After conversing awhile with her on
religious subjects, I came to the direct inquiry, "Now, K., will you not
turn from your former course and seek to become a true Christian?" She
looked upon me as though perfectly astonished at the question, and
answered, "Why, Chaplain, that would be of no sort of use. Here I have
been going on in my career of life these twenty years, and, should I
attempt to turn now and become good, no one would put the least
confidence in me. It is of no kind of use." I labored to assure her that
she was mistaken in this idea, that would she truly repent and turn from
evil, people would see it, and learn to confide in her the same as in
others who had reformed, also asserting that she had the power for
making of herself a most excellent, useful woman, if she would use it
aright. I referred to what she might have been, what she had lost, how
much she had suffered, the condition to which she had brought herself,
and the prospect still before her, if she went on. At length the tears
began to glisten in her eyes; she yielded and said, "Chaplain, I will
try." The next Sabbath I asked her how she succeeded, with the answer,
"Not much, but I am trying the best I can." Retiring from their room, I
asked the attendant how they had prospered the past week. "Oh," said
she, "first rate. We have had a perfect reformation. Everything has been
peaceful and quiet, no fretting and scolding,--a perfect change." And so
it was when I left the prison. But I learned that K., after my leaving,
became discouraged, was thrown from the track and returned to her former
habits. And no wonder, there was so great a lack of prudence and skill
in managing there, so much of a vexatious character.
My position was one of difficulty, needing all the wisdom and discretion
I could command. The prisoners were looking to me for direction on the
one hand, while jealous watchfulness followed every step on the other.
Thus I went on, constantly doing what I could for the best good of the
institution in whatever way practicable. No matter what course others
took concerning me or the prison, my duty was to act with fidelity and
in the fear of God, which I endeavored sacredly to do.
One rule I constantly carried with me, never deviating from it on any
occasion, which rule was, not to give a word, or hint even, against any
prison officer or prison move. This seemed essential to the best being
of the prisoner. For, if really wronged, my deviation from that rule
would tend to impress him more deeply, make him feel his wrong more
keenly, and excite to greater irritability, resulting, on his part,
perhaps, in more disorderly acts, and, consequently, greater trouble.
Then, on my own part, such a deviation must be perfect suicide, so far
as the plan might be concerned, showing the authorities conclusively
that I was unfit for the position, and giving them the most urgent
reasons for putting another in my place.
A moderate share of common sense would teach one to keep very wide of
such deviation. Then it could be of no avail. If censurable things were
being done in the prison management, the rulers were the parties for one
to approach respecting them, those having the power to apply the remedy.
26. _Death of Gideon Sylver._ This man had been in the army, was a good
soldier, strong and vigorous; very quiet and obedient; faithful to his
task and never complaining, but seemed intent on doing the best he could
to please those over him and thus share their good will. He was set to
carrying lumber in and out of the dry room, exposed to extremes of heat
and cold, at times perhaps having wet feet from want of proper shoes,
till, failing in health, complaining of distress about the chest, the
doctor ordered him to lighter and less exposed work, when he was set to
running a planer, said, however, to be a very hard machine to run,
though subsequently made easier by rollers attached. Here he grew no
better, but had severe attacks. One day, in his distress, he fell on his
knees, girding his arms about him and groaning repeatedly. The deputy
took him from the shop and returned him relieved. But soon he wholly
failed, was taken away for the last time and kept in his cell, part of
the time quiet and then groaning more or less intensely. To my inquiry
about the locality of his distress, he put his hand over the left lung.
Sabbath evening, Feb. 10th, I think, his distress came on with great
severity, he, making no little ado, said, to my inquiry whether he
needed anything more, "I have a powder to take, which will no doubt
relieve me," and appeared disposed to make the best of his condition.
Meeting the steward, I asked if all was being done for the man that
could be, with the answer, "Yes, I think there is. The fact is, not much
ails him. He is nervous; thinks he is dreadful sick, and makes a great
ado." I passed on, thinking that Sylver must be a very sick man
notwithstanding these views, that, when one naturally so patient and
quiet makes such demonstrations, there must be reason for immediate
assistance. It seemed to me that the hospital was the proper place for
him, and that he ought to be there receiving suitable warmth and close
attention. But understanding that I might say no more, and meddle no
farther, I retired, feeling that the man was in a forlorn condition.
The cold in the hall was not as severe now as formerly, for the weather
had become milder without, and that coal stove, before referred to,
stood not far from Sylver's cell. This helped in a measure, but came
short of the warmth needful to a sick man like him. Things passed thus,
with more or less of his moaning when I was in, till Wednesday evening,
on which, by reason of the prayer meeting, I did not visit the
apartment. Thursday noon I heard no moaning, but when the men had
retired for their work, I called to visit the sufferer and found his
cell empty, he having been carried to the hospital. I went to my dinner,
purposing to return and visit the hospital immediately after; but, being
detained, at length saw a coffin carried to the prison, and, on inquiry,
learned that Sylver was dead. He died a few minutes past twelve, when I
was known to be at work in the hall, but nothing was said to me about
the event. How my heart sank within me, though, of the events of that
terrible Wednesday night, I then knew nothing. The facts subsequently
came to light in their revolting features. They were gathered from the
steward, overseers, guard and released prisoners, investigated with all
care, and are, no doubt, correct, as follows:
Sylver grew worse Wednesday evening, groaning often. The steward came,
and, after giving him the usual attention, said, "Now, Sylver, there is
no use in your making such a fuss as this. Dry up and go to sleep."
Sylver replied, "I would, if I could; but my sufferings are so great I
can't help it;" to which the steward responded, "Yes, you can, if you
only think so. Dry up, if you don't want to go into the solitary," and
left, with the groans falling on his ears as he passed from the
apartment.
At nine the night watch went to his task in the hall, and found the
inmate almost incessantly groaning, with interludes of prayer,--"Lord
have mercy on me; do help me; forgive my sins," and so on, also
suffering intensely with the cold, locked in his cell that none could
approach him in attempts at relief. The watchman's heart was stirred,
for humanity's promptings were not dead in him. He looked about for
something that might afford warmth to the agonized man, and found some
bricks, which he warmed and passed through the grating to the sufferer,
who for a time had strength to take and place them around him for
relief.
The other prisoners could not sleep. Raps would be heard from one and
another for the watch to go to them and explain. Others would cry out,
"Call the deputy and have that man cared for." At about eleven, the
prisoners began to stir determinedly, when the watch called a guard and
sent for the deputy to come and care for Sylver. But he gave no heed to
the summons, except to send the guard back to the hall, who went to the
sick man's cell, made efforts to still him, and left. Those near said
they heard the word _gag_ there used, and understood that the sufferer
was receiving threats of being gagged, in case he did not stop his
noise.
As the guard retired from the hall, all hope of relief for the doomed
one came fully to an end, he being now literally left to his fate. He
would still engage in prayer,--"Lord, have mercy on my soul; Lord, why
won't they come and do something for my relief?"
Had the cell door been left unlocked, the watch could have done much
more towards affording the needed warmth, and been more effective in
efforts for his relief. But that privilege would not be allowed. At
length the man became too weak and exhausted to take and use the
proffered bricks, which ended the offices of kindness the watch was
struggling to perform. Finally, the moaning grew more and more faint,
and was of such a tone as to give clear indication that death had
commenced its work. The sad hours wore slowly away. The morning finally
arrived, and the men were called to their tasks, the now feeble moans
dying upon their ears as they passed out. At length, when suiting his
convenience, the warden went to the dying man's cell. Seeing the result
of their work, he hastened for the doctor, whom he found just starting
on an imperative call. But he hurried to the prison to see the man a
moment and direct the means to be used till his return. He found him
thoroughly cold, as though dead, and ordered him to be taken at once to
the hospital, the most vigorous rubbing to be used by two men, and other
means for restoring warmth. For a time he revived somewhat, but these
efforts, however beneficial they might have been in season, were of no
avail now, for death soon closed the scene.
The brothers, summoned by a telegram, were present in a few hours. A
post-mortem examination was had, at which one asked, "What was the
matter with the man?" to which the doctor answered, "Probably some
difficulty about the heart." An invited physician responded,--"From what
I hear, I think it a clear case of congestion of the lungs;" one of the
worst cases of which, it was found to be. A consulting physician said
that the case must have been a number of days in progress.
The reader must make his own comment on this whole affair.[2] My
feelings were never more stirred. We were terribly shocked at Pike's
murder of the Browns, those feeble, old people. But he dispatched them
at once; neither, perhaps, experiencing a moment's sensibility of
suffering. True, the man lived a number of hours, but was probably not
sensible of pain. But Sylver, in his agonies, begging and pleading for
help, was forced to pass that terrible night carefully locked in his
cell, and no heed given to his cries. Had they ended his sufferings with
a single blow, without any threats of the dungeon or gag, he would have
been thereby saved from the piercing agonies of those slowly dragging
hours. Would not that have been compassion in comparison with what they
did? But one says, "That would have been murder." True, and what was
that treatment in reality? With due care and attention the man might
have recovered, but they so proceeded that it was absolutely impossible
for him to live. No man with a lung difficulty could survive such
treatment. The blow of an ax, severing his head from his body, could
have been no surer means of death.
[Footnote 2: Important facts on this matter are withheld in the
narrative above, as the possessors were unwilling, at the examination,
to divulge them publicly except under the shield of an oath.]
I know the deputy attempted to exonerate himself from blame before the
governor and council, by asserting that the guard, sent for him, failed
to do his errand correctly, and that he understood himself called to
still the noise among the men, and for this sent the guard back.
Had that really been the case, why did not the guard go among the men
and endeavor to still them? Why go to Sylver's cell and expend his
efforts there? Or, admitting the deputy's statement to be true, did that
help the matter for him in the least? If summoned by the watch to quell
a rising tumult, was he, as an officer, acting the part of duty by
remaining quietly in bed and sending nothing but a guard to the work,
who could effect no more than the watch himself? All the circumstances
combined in forcing one, understanding the matter, to the conclusion
that they acted knowingly and intentionally respecting the man.
Do not understand me as charging them with intentionally and
deliberately murdering their victim, for this I do not, but that he fell
a sacrifice to a system of prison management that they were intent on
establishing; a system under which the officers are to be the sole
judges of the prisoners' needs, use them as they may choose, put them in
whatever condition they may see fit, and they in turn not allowed to
utter a word, nor give the slightest expression of feeling any more than
the dumb, driven ox. If they die, "it is of no account; he is only a
prisoner," as an officer said to me, respecting another who had died.
On entering the hall the evening after Sylver's cruel death, I found the
prisoners greatly excited. One exclaimed, as loud as he thought prudent,
"Murder! murder! They have murdered one of our number." Another
remarked, "Well, we see what the fate of any of us may be, if taken
sick." Marked anxiety was depicted upon all their countenances; and who
would wonder?
27. _The Sylver case excitement and hearing before the Governor and
Council._ The brothers were greatly aroused at what they could see and
gather about this death, felt that deep iniquity had been practiced in
connection with it, and resolved on a criminal prosecution of the
warden. But, finding, from legal counsel, that they probably could not
make a case in that line hold, they were thrown into doubt respecting
what to attempt.
Meanwhile the story of the affair spread in the community, carrying with
it exaggerated reports, that "Sylver was really murdered; was gagged and
left to die alone," and thus on. When passing the streets in the city, I
would be inquired of, if such were really the facts, to which I would
respond in the negative, that he died in the hospital with attendants
about him, but could explain no farther. Execrations at the prison
management were often heard.
Whether true or not, I never ascertained, but report had it, that the
doctor felt called upon to demand an investigation of the affair before
the governor and council, and that the warden favored looking into the
other departments, and so a hearing was appointed to be had at the
council chamber one Friday evening, in the latter part of February, or
in early March. I was summoned to be present, but with no intimation for
what purpose. The Sylvers, when cherishing the idea of a criminal
prosecution, had looked about a little for evidence, and had secured
the statements of an overseer at the prison, when the death occurred,
written out in the form of an affidavit and sworn to before a justice of
the peace, and also those of a released prisoner. These were in the
hands of the lawyer they had employed, or purposed to employ, to manage
for them. This lawyer appeared, but it was understood that the brothers
had become disheartened and ceased to interest themselves in looking up
evidence, preparing for a thorough investigation of the death in
question; why, we know not. None were put on oath, hence the hearing
failed of bringing out important matter, as the men having it, would not
divulge unless under oath.
I was called on first to testify and asked to state about the Sylver
case, but, as before related, I then knew but little of material value.
The transactions of that Wednesday night, I had, at that time, heard
something of, but to me they were only matters of report, and among the
points requiring the efficacy of the oath to bring them out. Hence, I
could say nothing of them. I was asked some questions about the prison
living, but on points concerning which I knew but little, and then was
turned directly to my own prison management. It seemed by the
questioning that, in this summary manner, with no opportunity to prepare
for defense, I was virtually put on trial for a violation of prison
rules on two points,--the correspondence, and passing information to
prisoners,--and called on to testify against myself. But I had nothing
to cover up, had acted in all cases as I thought to be right, so frankly
stated my whole proceedings in the matters, as near as I could recollect
on the spur of the moment, and also explained my motives, excepting that
I could not, of course, allude to anything of the warden's procedure as
making my efforts especially needful to the best order of the prison.
No one else was called to testify on these points; but I was kept
standing during the narrations and questionings till so far exhausted
that, perhaps between ten and eleven, I had to ask the privilege of
sitting.
Then I was called on to state about my lecturing for the Prison Aid
Association, whether I had alluded to the prison or not. Having become
somewhat confused in mind, for the time, I could not recollect a single
allusion I had made, and therefore answered unqualifiedly, "I have not,"
not thinking to say, "I have not to my present recollection." The
Governor replied, "There must be some mistake in the matter, for I have
received two letters from places where those lectures were given,
stating differently," and he called for another witness.
As to the Sylver matter, the effort was made to leave the impression on
the mind that the patient really died of a heart difficulty, though he
probably would have died of the congestion, but not so soon. No
pretense, however, was made that any unhealthy condition was found about
the heart, except in the attending physician's assertion, that, on
puncturing the pericardium; a little gas, as he thought, whizzed out,
and that he recollected of having read in two medical works, of cases
where such a gas collection had proved fatal. The physicians whom the
Sylvers employed on the post mortem, were not present, and hence no
light was gained from that source.
The lawyer presented the written statements of the released prisoner,
referring to the death, the cold, food matters, &c., at the prison, but
this was summarily swept from the board by the testimony of the steward:
"There is not a word of truth in his statement." I happened to know
personally, then, that some of the points in that statement were true,
and what I did not know myself agreed exactly with the general testimony
of the men leaving prison. But I was not referred to on the point and
thus that testimony was useless. The affidavit from the overseer, I
think, was not presented.
At about two o'clock at night, the hearing was adjourned until the next
Monday evening, after which I arranged with the Governor to see him
Monday, P. M. I saw the letters referred to, which contained the
grossest misrepresentations, uttering sentiments I never thought of, or,
if I had, should not have expressed there, unless demented.
I went home with a strong conviction that efforts were being made, by
whom I knew not, to turn the whole force of thought upon me and make of
me a scape goat in the matter. I retired, but not to shut my eyes in
sleep for the night. For a time my mind remained in confusion about
those lectures, but after resting awhile, and the excitement had passed
off, all came clearly to view, as given on a former page.
28. _Preparing for the adjourned session._ Saturday morning I wrote to a
few understanding and reliable gentlemen, who heard the lectures in
question, alluded to the letters and their allegations, and by return
mail received answers, asserting that, as nearly as they understood, and
by inquiry from others who heard, no such ideas were received as charged
in the missives, giving some ideas that were uttered, a very different
sentiment from the letters, and what no one could censure. That day, I
met the writer of one of those letters in the city, and to my inquiry,
he replied, "Oh, I did not hear the lecture, or know anything about
what was said, personally; but my son was present, and gave me what
information I had." I could but think, "A bright son that!"
In the afternoon, I called on the Governor as appointed, and found him
very much excited over the matter. He talked almost incessantly for a
long time, but occasionally giving me opportunity for putting in a word.
I attempted to assure him that he was laboring under a great mistake
about my acts at the prison, that I had not been guilty of anything he
had in mind, and that he must have been misinformed. But my assurances
seemed to carry but little weight. He finally said, "Mr. Quinby, your
management at the prison has caused me more trouble and anxiety than all
my State business put together." I was perfectly astonished. There were
my incessant and most arduous labors for peace and quietness in the
institution, my great painstaking, with the sole view of leading the
prisoners to do right in every respect, with never a hint from me, to a
prisoner, of disapprobation of any prison officer or his acts,--with
never a word of dispute between any of us as officers, besides my
careful observance of all the prison rules to the letter, as I
understood them, to which I had ever felt impelled by a sense of duty,
and on which, for a long while, I had felt the importance of double and
thribble care. How could my management in these things cause the
Governor such trouble and anxiety? The truth now flashed in mind, that
setting the guards and overseers to watch me, had its purpose. Then,
there must have been a long and persistent course of running to his
Excellency with a tissue of misrepresentations. Had it really befallen
me as it befel the man going down from Jerusalem to Jericho? Things
certainly looked in that direction, and perhaps it was nothing more than
might have been anticipated; for, if one would persistently slander
innocent ladies, it would be natural for him to misrepresent me. If, at
every opportunity, he would defame the character of another, could I
rationally suppose that mine would be any safer in his hands?
Having left the Governor with the settled conviction that my days of
incessant prison toil were virtually ended, a gentleman of influence in
the place, rode up to me in haste, with the remark, "Step aboard, Mr.
Quinby, you must have legal counsel in these matters. A combination is
formed to crush you, and the really guilty go free. I have volunteered
to engage such lawyers, and they wish to see you at once to learn the
true state of things and how to take hold of the case." Though I
insisted that it would be of no avail, he gave no heed to that, and soon
landed me at the proposed office door. I related, in brief, the general
facts as they had occurred, and the interview just had with the
Governor, to which the eldest of the number replied, "Your case is a
foregone conclusion. It is already decided. You can not do a thing." But
another proposed to consult with the attorney already in the work, and
arrange as thought advisable.
Returning home, I found a friend waiting to inform me of the proffered
service of still another lawyer. Thus friends were aroused and clustered
around ready to help, as I had not anticipated. No little excitement
prevailed in the place.
29. _The adjourned hearing._ I went to this with ideas clear, thoughts
collected, mind pretty thoroughly aroused, and feeling ready to attempt
a vindication of the right. Being again called on first, I commenced,
referred to the assertion that I made the previous evening about not
alluding to the prison in my lectures, that I was wrong in this, that I
did refer to it, stating on what points, and the sentiments uttered,
presenting the letters that I had received, showing that I uttered no
such ideas as alleged, and gave a general outline of my reform moves at
the prison and the motives that impelled me to voluntarily assume such
excessive labors, closing thus: "And now, gentlemen, if, after doing all
this, I am to be crushed, it will be a hard case."
They now referred to the other cases on which but little more was
brought out. Before closing, one of the council, turning to me,
remarked, "Now, Mr. Quinby, if you know of anything wrong at the prison,
not here developed, we wish you to be free and state it, for we desire
to understand the truth." But I did not think it best for me to say
anything farther then, for, if I did, it would be opening a square fight
with the warden, which I by no means desired, and for which I did not
feel myself prepared. It would have been really stepping forward as
leader in the matter, a position which I did not wish. Then, again, as I
supposed, such prejudice had somehow been aroused against me, that,
should I attempt to make further development, it would be of little or
no use, and perhaps be worse for the cause than my silence. Besides, I
hoped that the time would come, and that not far distant, when our
rulers would have their eyes opened, and matters be so effectually
sifted as to find the real truth.
Thus, the hearing closed, and we left the deliberating body to make up
judgment, which was that "no blame is to be attached to any one," or to
that amount. This was just as I had anticipated respecting the Sylver
case, the food, &c., for the investigation really amounted to little in
those respects. I was truly disappointed, however, concerning myself,
not that any wrong, or even a shadow of it, was brought against me, but,
as I judged from the Governor's remarks and the general drift of things,
that certain ones had worked underhandedly, and so effectually as to
render my removal a sure matter. But they did not succeed.
30. _Motives for desiring the chaplain's removal._ One asks, "What could
be the motive of any for seeking your removal, if you had uniformly
proceeded at the prison as before set forth?" That was the puzzle to me,
for not a word had been said in that direction, except the note of
warning from the prisoner, till conversing with the Governor, and then
nothing specific; hence, I was left wholly to conjecture. My persistent
effort to keep alive, as far as possible, what I could of the reform
system of the past year, was, no doubt, repulsive to the warden, and in
order to be rid of that, he would need to be rid of me. This might be
one motive. Again, no little stir was being made in the city about
prison usages, prison suffering, &c. Probably he thought I was at the
bottom of that; that I wrote down facts inside, and divulged them
outside. Hence, the nettling that one of my practices caused.
Occasionally, I would be solving a long question in arithmetic for the
prisoner at the striking of the signal for retiring to the shop, at
which I would step aside, sit down, finish my solution, return the slate
to the prisoner's cell, and leave. I also, at times, noticed that the
deputy was watching me far more earnestly than the men. Then the
question was asked at the hearing, what I was writing on these
occasions.
Now, if he considered me as the cause of this stirring up, he, of
course, would wish me away. This would be a strong motive. But I was
not. True, I wrote the stories of a number of the men, as they came out,
or till all were found telling over and over the very same thing, in
substance. These, however, I laid away in my drawer, saying nothing
about them to any one. But these men would also call on their former
Sabbath school teachers, or other acquaintances they had met in prison,
and relate to them their stories, and thus they spread. Neighbors would
call at my house, and be talking these matters over, I being as reticent
as possible, but would not come out squarely and lie in the matter by
contradicting the accounts. And, further, the points which I had brought
to the governor's notice were, without doubt, unsatisfactory to the
warden. Then, also, my fitting up the prisoners as they left. He perhaps
desired a man for the place, who might wish it so much as to be willing
to pass on with doing but little of what I was attempting.
For months I supposed these the great motives which prompted that
removal. But the next year I learned of another and perhaps greater than
either of these. A man, retiring from prison, said to me, "Chaplain, how
amused we would feel sometimes, last year, when you were preaching, at
the appearance of the warden, to see him turn pale, and then red, and
hitch on his seat. We understood it." Another, usually present, not a
prisoner, said also that he had noticed the same thing.
At the time in question, I was treating upon the moral code from Sabbath
to Sabbath, and would, in one discourse, take up lying, and point out as
clearly as I could its influence upon the one practicing it, and upon
society in general; then, perhaps, stealing, or swindling and thus on.
In these efforts, I was intent on discharging my duty to the prisoners,
on leading them from those sins, having nothing to do in the matter with
the warden as to any of his steps in life. If personal applications were
made, I was not responsible for that. I arranged for no such purpose.
But when the man, on his release, made the remark given, the idea
flashed in my mind that here was a stirring motive to efforts for
getting rid of me, with the hope of obtaining one who might be willing,
on coming to certain sins, to let the plow of truth turn out, and not go
straight through.
Whether that running to the Governor and that stirring him up so
greatly, was prompted by one or another of the above reasons, or all
combined, or something else, still, I never ascertained. Had charges
been preferred against me openly and squarely, I could have met them
face to face, known what was what, and shown their falsity. But as
things were, I was left in the dark as to how to proceed, and to what
conclusions I should come as to the motives prompting to the struggle to
my disadvantage.
31. _Chaplain's change of course and the question as to who should
conduct the prison correspondence._ After this hearing, I decided to
change my course in two respects, the one about going out to lecture on
Association matters, the other about writing to prisoners' friends.
These I wholly abandoned. True, nothing was said to me suggestive of
these changes, nor had I taken any wrong step on the points, but, in the
investigation, I was led to see that these were _the_ sources whence
misconception would be the most likely to arise, and where evil-minded
persons might pretend a wrong, with some show of plausibility, without
really any shadow of grounds in truth. I would not only shun every evil,
but every appearance of evil, or what might be construed into an
appearance.
Great sensitiveness pervades too many minds on the idea of attempting to
show benevolence to a released prisoner, they holding it as a wrong to
society. These will not hear on the subject understandingly, but with
prejudice and a proclivity to misrepresent. Though the class does not
embrace, in its numbers, the more intelligent, worthy citizens, yet it
contains more or less who possess the power of casting mists of
blindness before the well-disposed and honest seekers for the right.
In this class, we find the ideas of the brutal and vindictive freely
cropping out in their utterances. "Those fellows ought to suffer. They
were put in prison for punishment, now let them have enough of it, so
that they may thus learn to do better, no matter if it were ten times
worse." These persons seem to think that the correct way of prison
management would be to select the most hard-hearted, cruel men of the
State for officers, and deliver the convicts into their hands, for them
to exercise their brutal feelings upon as fully and freely as they may
choose. These points, then, evidently need to be agitated in the State,
by lecturers and through the press, but it were better that this work be
done by others than by the prison chaplain.
The loss of my occasional writing was severely felt, especially by
outside friends. Thus, on Fast day of '71, a prisoner wrote a letter to
a sister in the West, and asked for an envelope and stamp that he might
send it, but weeks and months passed and none were forthcoming. There
was the idea, "You must not ask a second time." The sister became
deeply troubled at not hearing from or about the brother, not knowing
whether he were dead or alive, and wrote to me, earnestly beseeching to
be informed. But as I was now under the ban, I did not answer her. She
also wrote to the ex-warden, but he was away and did not answer. In the
fall, when that gentleman of Concord was chosen warden, she wrote to
him, but, as he was sick and knew nothing of the matter, he did not
respond. And no doubt she also wrote to the warden himself; but probably
has not heard to this day.
Formerly, I should have written her something like this: "Your brother
is alive, in usual health, and progressing well. Don't be over-anxious
till he may write you." In this way I could have satisfied her,
measurably, at least with no reflection, in any way, on prison
management.
This neglect of the deputy seemed the more cruel from the fact that the
man was a most faithful, obedient prisoner, and that this sister had
previously furnished him with ample writing materials, that he might
write frequently with no expense to the State, which materials the
warden had confiscated on coming into office.
In connection with this matter, the important question comes up, In
whose hands, really, should the prison correspondence be placed?--in
those of the warden or chaplain? The correspondence, to be well managed,
requires no little labor, especially if the inmates are permitted to
write as they should and receive answers in return. If, in the warden's
hands, it would tend to crowd other business too much, or itself be too
much neglected, the latter having been the fact.
To avoid all this, in various places, they put the management in the
hands of the chaplain. This would seem the more appropriate, being
rather in his line of duty, and more easily performed by him. A schedule
of the points of information, which should be allowed to pass, could be
marked out by the competent authority and laid before him for his
guidance, that matters might be correct in that respect.
This question ought to receive the careful attention of our law-makers,
for proper letter writing should not be restricted in any degree in the
prison. Good letters from home and friends will bring with them no
little reformatory power and influence to quietness and order. Indeed,
the privilege, by proper management, can be made a great force in
disciplinary efforts among the prisoners.
32. _Change, for a time, in the warden's management._ Shortly after the
death of Sylver, a man, occupying a cell near by, was taken sick, but
could sit up the most of the time. As he said, the warden went to him
and remarked, "I am warden here. Be free, and ask for whatever you need,
and you shall have it." He permitted this man to sit with his cell door
unlocked, and to go to the stove when he chose, and, to all appearance,
properly cared for him, giving reason for much commendation. True, he
was shortly to leave prison, and his statement would go towards
counteracting the reports of prison cruelty circulating outside, and
some were uncharitable enough to contend that this was the object of the
better treatment.
One evening, about this time, I found a prisoner in his cell appearing
as though he could live but a few hours, and perhaps minutes, unless
immediately attended to. He had been in the hospital a number of weeks
with a lung difficulty and, though he had not recovered, was
transferred sometime that day, I think, to his cell,--to a colder
atmosphere. Here, he found it difficult to speak or breathe. I hastened
to the warden for him to attend to the matter. He hurried for the
physician, who soon arrived, and had the sufferer returned to the
hospital, where he died some weeks after. This was one of my only three
requests or suggestions that were granted or favorably attended to by
the warden while I was under him. True, I was not denied many times, for
I early learned not to propose anything or make any request, except when
absolutely needed.
This changed course in the warden, however, did not continue many weeks.
That hearing and its acquittal had passed, and the Sylver affair was
dying away, when, at length, I thus found him returned to his former
spirit. Though early in the season, on a warm day, he had divested the
sick of their flannels, and I suppose all other prisoners. Soon the
weather became cooler, and I found a sick man in the hospital suffering
greatly for want of his flannels, which articles, as he asserted, he had
not previously been without, summer or winter, for twenty years. He was
trembling with the cold, which much enhanced his distress. Going to the
warden, I presented the case, and received the reply, "If he wants his
flannels, let him ask the doctor." He could meddle in the matter enough
to divest the man of the needed articles, but would not move to put them
on, and thus mitigate his sufferings. It was then early in the
afternoon, and the man would have to suffer till the next forenoon, the
usual time for the doctor to make his visit. When he came, as I was
informed, he lectured them severely for removing the flannels at all.
33. _The fate of Henry Stewart and others._ Henry was said to have been
exceedingly unfortunate in his parents, they having been largely
chargeable with his proclivities to evil. He was highly excitable,
easily thrown into a perfect phrensy of passion, insane at times, and,
on the whole, very difficult to manage, requiring a large amount of
patience and skill in those over him. They needed to study his
peculiarities and accommodate their treatment to his particular case,
much the same as would the driver of a vicious, balky horse. The former
managers had so treated him, that he had really improved, and his
condition was appearing more and more hopeful. But in the new order,
where officers were not expected to bother themselves over
peculiarities, it was different with Henry. Though laboring with
faithfulness generally, what was bred within would appear in outward
acts. When a spell came on, they would "shake him up," as the deputy
said (the import of which I did not fully understand), and put him in
the solitary. At length his insanity, or whatever had impelled him,
would pass off, and he come out in his right mind. Confinement to his
cell would probably have been just as effective in securing his good
deportment and less injurious to his health. Whenever I visited him, he
would appear hopeful, tell what a good boy he proposed to be, how he
meant to live, and not get into any more trouble; that he should soon be
out, and would then strive to be a good man. Many air castles the poor
fellow thus built, but to see them fall. The prison fare and general
management was now highly unfavorable to his proclivities, tending
constantly to make them worse. Men repeatedly told me that the officers
would severely beat him, and that he was sadly abused. One day, in a
freak of insanity or anger, he struck his overseer to the floor with a
bed-post, coming within a hair's breadth of ending his life, and was
aiming a second blow, which a fellow prisoner arrested, and thus saved
the overseer. Henry was put in the solitary, and I know not how long
kept there, nor how used; but when, at length, I found him in his cell,
he was greatly changed. I was perfectly astonished! He was not only
insane, but changed in physical appearance; shrunken in flesh and with a
strange expression of countenance. For a time, I could hardly believe it
was Henry, but finally had to admit that it was really he. I have seldom
seen one with a fever change more for the time. Soon his insanity took a
boisterous turn by night, keeping the other prisoners all awake, which
induced them for a time to confine him to the solitary during these
hours, and keep him in his cell by day. But his howls so disturbed the
prison family, that they next resorted to keeping him in the shop by
night, lying upon his back, his feet chained together, with a post
between them.
Thus, they continued for a season, but finally, the governor sent him to
the insane asylum. Shortly after, I was speaking to one of Henry, in
hearing of the warden, as being insane, to which he replied, "No, he is
not insane. He is ugly, of which I could have cured him, had his time
not been so near out." I thought, "You _would_ have cured him by death,
and were very near it."
As he was taken to the asylum, the warden said to me, "Chaplain, I wish
it understood that he is taken out to be tried for attempting to kill
his overseer," thereby expressing the desire, as I understood it, for me
to give that version of the matter to the prisoners. "What an idea!" I
answered in my mind, "the chaplain going about lying for the warden!"
Fisher was naturally of a low order of mind, but still possessed
knowledge enough to work well at many things under the direction of
another, was to come out the early part of March, but whom I missed from
his cell a while previous, and, from his long absence, began to suppose
they had sent him off unbeknown to me. But the day previous to the
expiration of his sentence, I found him again in his cell, completely
demented. I was told by more than one, that his overseer, attempting to
direct him in a certain way about his work and not succeeding, seized
him by the collar, plunged him head foremost to the floor, and then
jerked him about, he probably now uttering some disrespectful words;
then the deputy was called and took him to the solitary, I was also
informed, and plunged him against the outer prison door, on the way,
with such force as to push it open.
When first finding him in his cell, as stated, I asked where his father
lived, and he answered, "Enfield," as I understood it. But after that, I
could not obtain even a sound from his lips. He kept almost constantly
spitting, would frequently laugh to himself, but I could learn nothing
about his legal residence. I was expected to care for him, and would not
turn him loose to suffer and perhaps perish; but I found that I should
be liable for damage, should I send him to another town. True, the
State, by her prison management, had reduced him to this wretched
condition, and ought to bear the expense of maintaining him, but there
was no law or provision for that. Hence, finding it my only safe and
legitimate course, I obtained a decree from the probate judge, took him
to the insane asylum, and notified the commissioners of that county, of
the same.
No doubt, with proper prison fare and treatment, both of these men
might have come out able to earn their living, under proper guardians,
which they would have needed; and that the fate of both was directly
chargeable to the prison treatment.
There was one, also, who left after my departure from prison, belonging
to another State, who had become nearly as demented as Fisher. Hence,
they obtained for him a railroad pass, and put him on board the cars
with a label fastened upon his arm, directing him to be transferred to
such a State and town, where his friends were supposed to live. He, too,
I doubt not, was reduced to that demented condition by the prison
treatment for he was far from such a state at the beginning of the year.
34. _Warden's want of courtesy to prisoners' visitors._ By rule, no
friend is allowed to see a prisoner except in presence of the warden or
a subordinate that he may hear whatever is said. The time allowed for a
visit is usually short, and the parties, of course, wish to make the
most of every moment. But no little complaint was made, that, when the
interview was in the warden's presence, he would engross much of the
time in recounting his exploits in prison management, the disorders he
found, the corrections he had made, how they would deceive his
predecessor, but could not deceive him, and the like. No matter how far
one had come, or at what expense, he would, perhaps, be treated thus.
Some, on going away, having had an opportunity of saying but few words
to the prisoner whom they visited, would utter remarks which were
anything but complimentary to the man thus imposing upon them, as they
regarded it, and to the State for allowing such things to occur.
35. _Effects of the new order upon the prisoners._ The mental effects
have been spoken of in three cases. These were the most marked of that
type. The effects on the physical system were also very apparent. It
could not be otherwise, for the men lost no little flesh. One man said
he weighed himself about the time the order in question commenced, and
found his weight some one hundred and eighty pounds. He left after being
under the system a little more than six months, and had lost some
twenty-five pounds in weight. And I should judge this to be a fair
general average, according to their appearance, of the change in most of
the prisoners.[3]
[Footnote 3: The Bill of Fare at the prison for this year can not be
given, as it was not, to the writer's knowledge, published.]
And why not this result? A large number did not pretend to eat any
dinner on Mondays, and many more ate but little. There was such a
general carrying back of the food at this meal, that I decided to count
particularly and see exactly what the facts were. On two consecutive
Mondays in April, I think, I did this and found a dozen or over, not
even taking their dishes to their cells, so had nothing to eat;
thirty-two each day, returned their basins, all, I think, with the bit
of bread gone, a large number not having touched the wheat part, some
having eaten a very little, and others more, but all returning more or
less of that; then the dishes of the remaining prisoners would be empty.
Those were the only days I counted so carefully in the spring, but
judged them to be fair samples for that time of the year. But the number
was not small who did not pretend to take this meal while the cracked
wheat appeared. Then, as informed, they would pursue a similar course
with certain other meals, for instance, when the fish was served. Some
would not take the soup meal. The Sabbath morning repast of baked beans
was ever spoken of as good, satisfactory both in quality and quantity.
One man said his custom was to save some of the beans as a relish for
his meals early in the week. The peas were complained of as bad. One
overseer said to a prisoner, who was making his dinner of these, "I
would as soon take so much shot into my stomach." The lack of vegetables
was severely felt, especially that of onions, though I was informed they
purchased a bushel, or so, in the winter, of very small onions, or
scullions, as many call them. In the spring, I found a man in his cell
sick, who said he was having symptoms of the scurvy, a difficulty he had
in the army, that he was suffering much for the want of vegetables, and
that he knew of others also suffering from these scurvy symptoms.
The warden, of course, well knew of this dislike of the food, but the
men must take what he allowed or go without. A man asserted, on leaving
prison, that the warden said to him, "All I have against you is, that
you would not take your rations better." He replied, "I purposed to obey
the prison rules, but did not feel myself bound to eat what I could not
relish." One who was sick in his cell with a dispeptic difficulty, said
he could not take brown bread as it soured on his stomach, but could eat
white bread, for which he had asked, but to no purpose. I mentioned the
matter to the steward, asking if he could not have the white bread. He
answered, "No. They indulged him in that under the former administration
and he thinks he must continue to have it, but now every one is to fare
alike, so he must take his chance with the rest."
But the reader will ask, "Did not this warden allow the men who chose,
to take anything extra?" Certainly. The former custom had been to place
brown bread, cut in slices, near the rations, each man having the
privilege of taking as many slices extra as he might choose. Or, he
would convey dishes with extra rations to certain cells afternoons if
requested, or when the occupants were to work extra evenings. This
warden allowed any, desiring, to take of the brown bread extra, but only
one slice each. I would now, also, though very seldom, see dishes of
cracked wheat setting on the beds as extra rations, or basins of
hash-skins.--The reader understands that, in making hash, more or less
will dry, or burn upon the sides of the kettle, leaving a thick skin
when all the eatable part is removed.--This skin, scraped from the
kettle, composed these hash-skins, perfectly dry as husks. This was to
save everything and have nothing wasted.--The reader will understand
again, that when distributing books to the cells, and looking after the
books, I could not avoid seeing these things.
With the failing flesh also went the strength to work. A man described
the effect on himself, thus: "On first going into the shop after eating,
I feel quite vigorous for my task, but soon a peculiar goneness comes
on, and finally becomes so that what I do is through fairly driving my
system." He had been very vigorous, able to go through almost anything,
but what he had passed here proved sufficiently powerful to bring him
down.
An overseer told me, that the men in his division became so weak that it
required great effort on his part to keep some of them at their task,
they being hardly able to stand up by their machines. But his duty
forced him to keep them there as long as they could do anything, though
a part became unable to accomplish more than one quarter of their
ordinary work. His heart would really ache for the fellows.
It should be recollected that everything in the shop, but tending them,
is done by machines, each operation having a machine for performing it,
the business of the prisoners being to pass the articles to and from the
respective workers. Hence, the amount of work turned out did not, of
course diminish in proportion with the failing strength of the workmen,
as must have been the case in the old method of hand planing, sawing,
&c.
I subsequently learned that food would be carried into the shop for the
suffering men, but I know not to what extent. At first mentioning, I
thought that it could not have been done, and expressed the doubt, but
my informer explained how, showing a perfectly feasible way.
The effect of the new system was plainly visible, too, on the health of
the men. This, of course, could not be avoided. A man, who was very
healthy, and vigorous to work when it commenced, ran through the winter
into early spring when he began signally to fail, said he could not eat
the rations any longer, and went without food of any amount, still
constantly performing his task, till his system entirely broke down, and
he was taken to the hospital for a drugging course, the doctor remarking
to me that he had "failed with no apparent cause." I think the want of
food was sufficient cause. Had he received proper care and suitable
aliment, he would, doubtless, have been spared this sickness. I was
informed that, when he was near death's door, he was pardoned, to die
with his friends.
Another, who had fallen a victim to prison treatment and was in the last
stages of consumption, said to me, "Had they used me as well when I was
in health and able to work as they now do, I should not have been here
at this time." Calling the next day, I learned that he had received
pardon and been carried home, that he might die there. His stay, I
learned, was very short.
How many of these pardons were granted in view of death, I never knew.
They were gratifying to friends most certainly, but would make the
prison mortality appear smaller than it really was. For, surely, if a
man sickened in prison and received pardon as above, his demise should
of right be set down as among the prison deaths.
A man came out in the spring, having been a prisoner one year; was well
and robust when entering, but the ordeal of the winter brought on a
rheumatic difficulty, so that towards its close he was really sick, and,
as he remarked, solicited the warden for the privilege of laying off and
doctoring a little, with the answer, "I know what the matter is with
you, you wish to get rid of work; you can go to the shop;" and he was
given no respite, nor was anything done for him while there. He went
home so used up, that, as his father asserted, it did not seem that he
could have lived at the prison but a few weeks longer. He revived,
however, with home air and home treatment, worked considerably through
the summer, but, as fall came on, had a return of the rheumatic trouble
contracted in prison, with which he suffered many months, and died. A
number of others, too, on their leaving, I found completely broken down,
who were sent away to friends, or places of their usual abode, to be
maintained by relatives or at public expense. A man, when leaving, said
that he had there sometimes been forced to work, when so sick that five
dollars a day would have been no temptation to him for thus laboring.
One was reported to me as having been kept to his machine till fainting,
and then carried to the hospital. One, with a consumptive difficulty,
not able to work in the shop, was put in the cook-room to do what he
could there, and kept at his task till, one Sabbath eve, he was taken to
the hospital where he died the next Tuesday morning.
But why pursue this dark recital? All such management, of course, made
the prison sickness appear less in the physician's account than the
reality. It seemed fortunate to the men that the term of sentence to
many so expired as to leave them under this rule but a comparatively
short time.
In conversation with an overseer here, who had large experience, the
idea was started as to how long time would be required for the system
reigning at the prison this year to use up completely the number it
commenced with, could all have been kept truly under its influence, with
no respite or mitigation. His conclusion was some two years. Nor could I
think he was much out of the way, that is, take the case as it bore on a
large share.
The system left its legitimate effects on the minds of the inmates,
aside from driving to insanity and idiocy, namely, irritability, angry
feeling, or moroseness. Under the former rule, the men, when leaving,
would generally express much gratitude towards officers and friends for
the interest taken in their welfare, apparently filled with a hope and
inspiration here gained, prompting them to strive for their own best
good, from which no little advantage, to them, might be hoped. But under
this rule, how different! Men fully admitting the justice of their
sentence, and having come with the purpose of serving it out
submissively, and with not a word of fault-finding, would go away
complaining of the wrongs done them in the general prison fare, their
hearts filled with bitter feelings, prompting them to execrate those
from whom they had suffered these wrongs, and curse the State for
putting such men in power over the prison. One who was so reduced that
he found it a task to walk about, remarked, on leaving, "I have some
accounts to settle with them over there" (meaning the warden and
deputy), "and if I recover, I shall return to Concord and settle with
them. I will have my pay unless they are the strongest." Some would
leave with the feeling of _don't care_ as to what course they should
take.
What was said above as to losing flesh among the prisoners, should be
taken with some exceptions. The cooks could manage to satisfy their
demands of appetite. So also could those doing common chores. Some were
naturally very small eaters, and some would eat all furnished them,
however prepared. The females had such food as went to the warden's
table, and, so far as I learned, what they needed, and ever appeared in
good heart, except when sick.
A female prisoner, for some offence, was condemned to her cell for a
week and to feed on the rations from the other part, which was held by
her probably as a God-send rather than a punishment, for it gave the
females the very opportunity desired for really seeing on what the men
had to live. After this, when a woman left she was not slow in her
declamations against the miserable fare of the men, and how they must of
necessity suffer.
36. _Comparative prison order for the two years._ Some represent that
the present warden found great abuses in the prison, all of which he has
corrected. No doubt, this idea has quite extensively prevailed, and that
interested parties have taken no little pains to extend the impression
as widely as possible. Let us, then, look to the point with care, and
give full credit for whatever has been gained in that direction.
The warden banished from the prison all bouquets and flowers, and talked
of them in the most sneering manner, contending that the practice of
presenting them to prisoners was the most outrageous wrong. He has put
an end to all attendance, from the city, upon prison meetings of every
class, except when he may give special invitation himself; has abolished
all lecturing to the inmates by outsiders; and would have abolished the
secular school, but for the persistent efforts of the chaplain; has
ended the custom of having the female prisoners assemble with the males
in the chapel Sabbath mornings for worship, requiring all moral efforts
made for them to be put forth in their work room. He has also ended all
funeral observances at the prison, cut off all distribution of religious
tracts to the prisoners, and all trinkets or trinket-making in the
cells, and has forbidden the receiving of presents from friends,
excepting tobacco, &c.
If there were prison abuses in any or all of these, he has effectively
corrected them, and should receive the full credit.
Then there were those two orders which he established in the shop, and
he should be credited with whatever good they secured. The one was, that
a man, meeting company in a door or pass-way, must turn and face the
wall till they had passed, thus professedly not seeing them, though,
before turning, he must have enjoyed the sight of all. The other rule
was, that the men, when waiting for work, must stand at their machines,
and by no means sit down.
In respect to account-keeping, no comparison can be made, for, previous
to the service of this warden, the arrangement had been entered into for
him to have no concern with that, the financial matters being attended
to by an agent.
We come next to the behavior of the prisoners, the great point really to
be looked at,--the one which outsiders, no doubt, always suppose to be
meant, when reading or hearing about gains in prison order. In the
chapel, with the most critical observation and careful weighing, I could
not discover the slightest difference. The behavior was good, equally
good at all times, in both years. So, also, in the hall, as far as my
knowledge extended. As to the shop, I could not pretend to judge from
personal observation, but an overseer, who served under both, gave me
all needed information. He said, that he found it more difficult to keep
order in his division the second year than during the first; that some
were more excitable, revengeful, inclined to vent their spite on their
machines, if nothing else; to throw those out of order and break things
generally, costing him far greater effort to manage them. The uniform
testimony of the men leaving prison has been in the same
direction,--that they were more inclined to watch their overseers and
take the advantage to commit little misdemeanors, as would naturally
arise from this increased prompting to vent their ill-feelings.
So far as I learned, more contraband information was smuggled in during
the second than the first year; certainly I heard it often alluded to.
They would hint at outside matters that I knew nothing of, and in a way
that showed considerable knowledge of them. Take an illustration: The
day after Pike's nomination as governor, a prisoner said, half
inquiringly, "Well, it seems that Pike is nominated." I could not say
"No," in truth, and, from my position, was not allowed to say, "Yes."
Hence I answered, in a joking way, "How much you think you know about
the outside world;" to which he replied, "I do know. I had a paper
brought me that very afternoon, before it was dry, giving an account of
the whole proceedings. He will be elected, too, and we shall have
different fare at the prison."--What one knew would be communicated to
others, so, of course, this fact was generally understood among the
inmates.
I have since learned, that, during the second year, a somewhat regular
correspondence was carried on between the two wings, three couples, I
think, thus making their arrangements for marriage, to be consummated
shortly after their release. And the enjoyment to them was, that some of
these letters were passed directly before the warden's face and eyes,
without his notice.
One letter from the south wing was miscarried, and fell into his hands,
for which the sender was locked up and thus gained the knowledge, above
referred to, of the men's rations. But, nothing daunted at the fate of
this missive, she prepared another and sent it before her release, or
very soon after, which passed in safety. Besides this irregularity,
parties in prison corresponded with those even out of the State, giving
a pretty full account of the prison management, a friend of mine being
shown quite a pile of these letters.
Hence, taking all things into account as to the deportment of the
prisoners, we are forced to the conclusion that no improvement was
secured the second year over the first, but rather a loss, that is, so
far as I saw or heard.
The warden, of course, did his best towards preventing all prison
abuses, for he considers himself a very smart prison officer, so shrewd
that no prisoner can get the advantage of him. But he sometimes found
more than his match. Some thought it not a very hard matter to "pull the
wool over his eyes." The question has more than once been asked, "Is it
possible that he can be so befogged?" Why not? He is an old man, between
seventy and eighty, of great self-esteem, perhaps entering his dotage.
If such a man be placed in so responsible a position, what may we
expect?
37. _Good traits in the warden for prison service._ He possessed two
most excellent and important traits for a prison officer. He was usually
at his post, would be but seldom away and then only for a short time,
but once, I think, for a few days, during the year. He would also be
almost constantly looking after things himself, not leaving matters
altogether to subordinates. True, some would complain of finding him in
unsuspected and rather out-of-the-way places, but it taught them ever to
be on the alert, ready for inspection at all times.
While, however, these traits, with a moderate share of judgment, would
qualify one for running a steam engine, other and still higher and more
important qualities are needed for managing a prison.
38. _Chaplain's inability to prevent knowing more or less of the
prisoner's troubles and the prison management._ If the chaplain is alive
to the prisoners' moral needs, their sorrows of heart and intent on
affording the requisite advice, in searching for knowledge how to
direct his words, he will often, of necessity, learn more of things in
general than he desires. The case of the young man spoken of in Sec. 25,
who had been in the solitary and gave this as an excuse for no lesson,
is in point. He was making no complaint, but simply excusing himself.
This plea, however, brought with it an idea that no little lack of
prudence may have existed in a point of prison management, but of which
I could not judge without knowing further circumstances. Thus there are
numerous incidental ways by which knowledge will come to mind unbidden.
Men, thinking themselves ill-treated, or who see others wronged, will
speak of these things before he can stop them, and thus some knowledge
of wrong, perhaps, is gained. For example: A man in his cell, no little
excited, commenced: "How my blood boiled this afternoon at seeing them
throw S., that sick man, on those timbers, and hurt him so." But just as
soon as I saw his drift, I called out, "Hold on. You know I must not
hear about that." Before I could stop him, however, enough was in the
mind to raise the supposition that the feeble one was being abused,
which idea subsequently received confirmation from the fact of his
death.
39. _Secular school success._ My course was to commence at No. 120 and
call at every cell in succession, where the inmate would engage in
study, till arriving at No. 1, and then over again in regular order,
being able, to "go the rounds," as we called it, about twice a week,
each receiving my attention only so often.
I had quite a variety of exercises. Two commenced their alphabet,
although some twenty-four years old. A number took reading in easy
sentences, with spelling. Some thirty took arithmetic in its various
stages, a few, as in the year previous, taking it up in review a while
before leaving. A number in this branch made good proficiency,
considering their disadvantages. Two took book-keeping, one doing but
little, the other obtaining such a knowledge of the science as to
prepare him to keep books passably well. But this was under
difficulties. Having no blanks for practice, I obtained for him three
large slates, one for day book and so on. But soon I found him with
blanks all ruled. True, they were made of brown wrapping paper, on which
he would write with a pencil. Asking no questions, I looked to his work
as he pushed on with all energy and determination. No one could be more
diligent.
One, having been a machinist, expressed a desire, a while previous to
his liberation, for an opportunity to practice somewhat on mechanical
drawing. I obtained some patterns, carrying him one at a time. He would
copy them with great exactness, and had been called on occasionally to
draw working patterns for machinery in the shop. How lamentable that a
man of his talents should go into service.
One took Latin, went through the grammar, and became able to read
somewhat in the reader. He expressed a determination to obtain an
education, when released, for which he was striving, when last heard
from.
One, a house painter by trade, took arithmetic, and English grammar. He
was quick to learn, and a keen, smart fellow. He frequently expressed
the wish that he could learn something of ornamental painting, and thus
be able to work on signs and fancy carriages, when liberated. I, of
course, could do nothing for him at that, directly. But it occurred to
me that perhaps I could, in a measure, indirectly. I could perhaps start
him somewhat in penciling, thus leading his mind to a practical
knowledge of making the sketches and outlines of what he would wish to
paint. This idea he grasped with avidity, commencing, in a drawing-book
that I furnished him, on simple outlines, thence to shading, and finally
to foliage, showing as good improvement as is usually found in our
schools. And this exhibited the more talent in him from the fact that I
could give only a few general hints at the work, from what I had
gathered by hearing teachers when directing their pupils. Hence, when
coming to difficulties, he was left to work upon them as best he could,
till conquered.
Having a work on Perspective, from which I had gained a few ideas, I
gave him some hints on that. But we had nothing to practice upon but the
inside of the prison, the walls and windows. He labored somewhat on the
idea of the vanishing point, and that of the diminution of the angle of
vision as distance increases.
Thus, the reader will see, our school took a somewhat wide range. I
would interest the mind, so far as could be, in what would profit, and
thus beget a love for truth and turn the attention away from wrong. With
the wholesome ideas gathered in these studies, I would also inculcate
the moral, to elevate the thoughts and heart to the truly good. Here, I
constantly kept in view the idea of the best interest of the prisoner
and the State.
This labor was most fatiguing. Standing there at the cell doors with no
means of sitting, I would, at times, become so completely exhausted as
to be obliged to retire to rest a while. Then, taking the air from the
cells would occasionally be most repulsive and injurious to health, the
whole weakening to the system.
I attempted to have a short school exercise with the females twice a
week, but word soon came that they could not be spared for that, and the
effort was abandoned. The pupils did as much, perhaps, as could
rationally be expected, under the circumstances. Could we have had the
school in the chapel, greater results would have crowned our efforts,
with much less labor.
Though I was wholly cut off at first from having an evening school in
the chapel, near the latter part of January, the warden informed me that
I might have one there on Thursday evenings, if I would give up the
prayer meeting, but not to begin till warmer weather. I could not harbor
the idea, for a moment, of relinquishing the prayer meeting, and
supposed I must wait for the proposed Thursday evening effort till the
warden moved. At length, I found that he was waiting for me, when it was
too late to move in the matter at all. Indeed, had we attempted the
effort when first spoken of, it would probably have been more trouble
than benefit.
As to the penciling, nothing was said by any in disapprobation of it,
yet, after that hearing, with the thought that possibly this might be
one of the points of offense, I took from him all the materials except,
perhaps, the slip on perspective, which he greatly regretted.
40. _Sabbath school success._ The prison year commences the first of
May. The former warden continued some ten weeks into the second year,
during which time the Sabbath school attendance remained as usual,
averaging eighty-six.
On the first Sabbath of the new order nearly the same number were in
attendance. But many had no teachers provided, and I could have nothing
to do about arranging for the school's best interest.[4] The following
Sabbath brought a great falling off, still greater the next, and so on.
In a few weeks the warden peremptorily dismissed one of the teachers he
had invited, telling him that if he would call at another time, he would
give his reason.
[Footnote 4: In speaking of the Sabbath school teachers employed, page
69, the author intended to say, such a number that each teacher could
have a guard stand by him and see that nothing contraband passed.]
At first, a prisoner would occasionally ask a question, as usual, and a
little discussion spring up; but the warden at once crushed all this,
requiring the teachers simply to put the questions as in the book and
the pupil to give the answer and nothing more. The number continued to
fall off until it went below thirty, giving me fears that none would
attend, all my efforts for their continuance being of no avail. No
excuse would usually be given. But one said, "I won't attend with such a
warden," and I judged this the general reason. At length I found
uneasiness pervading the teachers, one having determined to resign; but
I entreated him to remain for the sake of the prisoners and the Sabbath
school, for, if he left, his class would follow, dropping the number to
twenty or under, and all would be likely to take the same course. He did
not feel satisfied with laboring under such circumstances, with a guard,
may be a mere boy, at his side to watch him, and he, perhaps, turned off
as unceremoniously as the other. He preferred going of his own accord.
But my plea prevailed, and he remained.
The average attendance after the advent of the new order was
forty-eight; for the whole year, fifty-seven.
41. _Religious success._ The contrast between the religious element of
the present year and that of the past was painful. Still, among those
who at first gave up all hope of struggling against the tide, a few were
induced to forsake that ground and struggle on; thus we hope something
of the past was saved.
In my discourses I felt impelled to dwell more largely on the moral
code, to which the inmates gave respectful attention. The prayer
meetings were well attended, though but few of the inmates would take
any part. One of the Sabbath school teachers was usually present, and
labored with good effect. We took up more of the time in Bible
exposition, which would occasionally seem to awaken some interest.
As to our true religious success this year, or the real good
accomplished, none but that Being who knows all things can decide. One
thing is certain, much earnest, prayerful effort to that end was made,
much hard labor performed. But it is difficult rowing against wind and
tide. Still, we probably shared in as large success as could reasonably
be looked for under all the circumstances.
42. _Lack of truthfulness at the prison._ We are often told that no
confidence can be placed in the word of a prisoner. But in my experience
under the new rule, I was taught the sad lesson that I could place no
greater confidence in the assertions of some of the officers. A
complaint of this character had repeatedly been made by released
prisoners. Still, it required personal experience to enable me to
appreciate its full and lamentable force. Hence, the shock I felt at the
virtual request of the warden for me to join in the falsehood course, by
telling the prisoners that Henry Stewart, when removed to the insane
asylum, was taken out to be tried for attempts to murder his
overseer.--Then, again, there were the assertions I repeatedly heard the
warden make to prison visitors, on passing through the cook-room. "We
give the prisoners good food and enough of it. We purchase the best of
articles the market affords, and have the food well prepared." He would
repeat this in earnestness and apparent sincerity, as though he really
believed it himself.--Subsequently, a gentleman of the city, of
undoubted veracity, being about to visit the parents of a prisoner,
called and asked the warden how he was, with the answer, "He is all
right; you may tell his folks that he is all right." In a few days
after, it was found that, at the very time of this assertion, the man
was so sick that the doctor had nearly given him over to die.
Then I would sometimes smile and sometimes feel sorrowful at his
changeable appearance; perhaps if one of influence and authority came
in, he would put on peculiar airs of suavity, and expatiate upon how
things were and should be in prison, while one without that influence
might enter and receive entirely different treatment. I here see how our
rulers may have been led on at times, unaware of the true state of
things in the institution. How easy to cover up!
Then in the female department, I called for a convict in order to
arrange for her disposal on leaving prison, and was told, "The assistant
is in the city with the key to their apartment, therefore you can not
see the woman." But how was I surprised shortly to learn that, at the
moment of this assertion, the assistant was in the kitchen at work, and
known to be there by my informant.
Is it any wonder that such people disbelieve in prison reform?
43. _Reported quarrel between the warden and chaplain._ The idea has
been circulated, how extensively I know not, that the warden and
chaplain had a quarrel between them at the prison. It seems to have
pervaded some minds in the legislature at Concord in '71, being used to
the disadvantage of a bill before that body in regard to the prison, the
fate of which perhaps was made to turn on that. No doubt a certain
Concord gentleman, who had an ax of his own to grind in connection,
knows very well how this report was made so prevalent. Whether he or
another started it, I know not.
But that idea had not the slightest foundation in truth. The
circumstances of our official intercourse in all that passed, have been
faithfully set forth in the preceding pages, and the reader can see for
himself that there was no quarreling. When the warden told me to "bring
the key back and not touch it any more," I did as required, without
uttering a word. When I told him what I should do about fixing up the
Maine man before sending him away, his remark was in no fault-finding
tone. When he pointed out my work at first, and in our connected
colloquy, all our words were civil and courteous, no unpleasantness in
tone; and when he informed me on the point of the man's glasses and the
sick man's flannels, I gave him no unkind answer. And where was the
quarreling? Nowhere. It did not exist. He taught me my bounds after the
manner he did, and I accepted them and conformed my moves thereto with
not a lisp of fault-finding. He never spoke a word in disapprobation of
what I was doing, but that all was agreeable to his mind. Again, where
was that place of quarreling? Not in the prison between the warden and
chaplain. Whenever we met, it was on the most civil terms, we invariably
passing the compliments of the day.
True, we each had our notions on prison reform, he thinking that
attempts in that direction are useless, that, when one has fallen into
prison we can not reform him, that punishment is _the_ great mission of
the prison, and thus on; I, supposing that reform is practicable, that
we should faithfully use all available means for it, and make it the
paramount object of imprisoning. On the question of prison order we were
exactly alike in sentiment,--perfect order, strict discipline,--though,
perhaps, varying as to the ultimate results, he securing that as a
deterrent to crime; I, as an important and indispensable element in
reform, leading the once erring to that state of mind in which he will
hate wrong and love right.
Then, as we had not a word of debate over our differing ideas, so there
was no clashing in carrying them out. The warden established his line of
policy, as he had a legal right, then I surveyed the ground and decided
to go on with my reform efforts, so far, with respect to time and place,
as I could consistently with his arrangements, at all times looking to
the best prison order, and at no time to interfere with any of his
moves.
This was our prison quarreling, and the whole of it; a very peaceful
affair. How happy, if all quarrels were of this character! I felt
assured that, though what I was endeavoring to promote in our prison was
held by those at present in the ascendant as being an interloper in such
an institution, and wholly out of place there, truth would at length
prevail. Prudent labors, persevering efforts, patient waiting and firm
trust in the great Leader, would now, as ever before, result in the
triumph of the right. With such views I daily toiled in quietness,
interfering with nobody around me.
44. _Prison Report for '71._ I had looked for a pretty free use of
whitewash in this, but it goes immeasurably beyond my anticipations. I
really expected to find some regard for truthfulness in the statement of
facts. But, in my astonishment at reading, I would inquire, "Have I
fallen into a general confusion of names? Is black indeed white?"
Let us read, p. 13,--"He [the warden] ... spends his whole time in and
about the institution, not having been absent to the value of half a day
since he entered upon his duties."
Thus we have it. Sum up the time spent by the warden during the year in
going to the P. O., or in calls out on business, or errands, or
attending meeting on the Sabbath, or journeying to New York even, and
the whole does not amount to "the value of half a day." This prepares us
for any statement we may find. If we admit that, we can anything.
Let us, then, look at the food question.
On page 6. we have,--"The food furnished the prisoners has been
selected with more than ordinary care and great pains have been taken in
having it well cooked and served. We have a regular weight from which
the rations are made, and any man, wishing for more than the regular
allowance, is always furnished with an extra quantity." P. 13,--"The
warden is not only valuable as a disciplinarian but is economical in his
management of the affairs of the prison, at the same time allowing to
the prisoners liberal rations of food of the best quality, but none to
waste."
This can be admitted just as easily as the quotation preceding. How
rejoiced the prisoners would have been to realize the truthfulness of
this assertion one short week,--"Selected with more than ordinary care!"
"Regular weight!" "Liberal rations of food of the best quality!" That
will do,--decaying fish, potatoes "not fit to put into the human
stomach," and all.
But when the Report comes to the chaplain it uses a black wash with
quite as unsparing a hand, thus, (P. 13) "But the warden has not had
that sympathy and assistance from the chaplain, which should be mutually
rendered to each other by officers of the prison. The chaplain, for
reasons best known to himself, has not acted in harmony with the warden
in the discharge of his various duties, a matter very essential to the
discipline of a prison. He has on the other hand, manifested
peculiarities of his own which have been very detrimental to the
discipline, and, we have reason to believe, have caused some uneasiness
among the prisoners, which has made it more difficult for the warden,
and, in some instances, causing punishment which would otherwise have
been avoided."
But let us read what the warden says (P. 9),--"In conclusion, I desire
to express my thanks to all the officers connected with the
institution, for the prompt, cheerful and efficient manner in which they
have discharged their several duties."
The chaplain was one of those officers. What, then, shall we believe?
Who tells the truth? What has become of straightforward dealing? Where
is that trait once called honor among men? The reader, having fully
informed himself of the real facts, will pronounce the above charge
against the chaplain as unqualifiedly untrue from beginning to end.
But one says, "That first assertion must be true. The warden could not
have shared your sympathy in his acts." No, that first assertion is not
true. It is equally false with all the rest, that is, in the sense of
the writer, which evidently is that the chaplain did not sympathize with
the warden in his desires for order, and labor with him to that end.
Order is the first thing to be sought in prison as everywhere else. It
has my fullest sympathy and for the very purpose of helping towards it,
under this warden, I voluntarily undertook what I did.
"The warden has not had that assistance from the chaplain," &c. The
reader has seen the chaplain putting in a pacific word here and there,
doing all he could to interest the mind in its privations, helping men
keep down their angry passions, robbing the solitary of its occupants,
excusing, entreating, helping to order in every way possible, and is
held up in that light.
"Not acted in harmony." Not a discordant word or step is the truth.
"Manifested peculiarities of his own." Peculiarities! What were they?
Honest devotion to duty and not an eye to personal popularity; most
arduous toils engaged in for helping to the best interest of the
prison; patient efforts for reforming and elevating the fallen. All I
said or did there would come within some of these points. Were those
peculiarities? What then must be the character of the prison management?
If the chaplain's moves were held as peculiarities it could have been
only from contrasting the animus and acts of those who ruled with his.
They would hold the prisoners as so many "dumb, driven cattle;" he, as
human beings, with instincts of reason to be addressed and emotions of
right to be stirred; they, in all cases, would move their brute fears,
threaten, scold, drive; he, a part of the time at least, would appeal to
the manhood sentiments, persuade, entreat, expostulate; they would
regard them as morally hopeless, to be cruelly treated, and made money
of; he, as those for whom hope lives, and on whom redeeming influences
should be used, and efforts made for coining from them gold purer than
earth affords.
Nor are these moves of the chaplain peculiarities in many other States,
if in N. H. Nor are they original with him. Other minds had brought out
such ideas and pushed them somewhat widely into public acceptance, and
he was only attempting to introduce something of their benign influence
here.
"Detrimental to discipline." What gross darkness!
"Made it more difficult for the warden." Change "difficult" to "easy"
and the truth would be told.
"Causing punishment." What an idea!
The chaplain saw the changes attempted to be brought upon the prisoners,
and thought he understood something of the effects which the move would
produce on their minds and the results likely to follow. He knew that to
some extent he had the confidence of the men, that they were looking to
him as their friend, and as working for their best good; that,
therefore, he could, by carefully using his influence in a quiet,
unassuming way, help slide the matters round the very sharp corner which
was being turned, and thus, on the one hand, make things more endurable
to the inmates, and, on the other, easier for the rulers. With an eye
single to this purpose he acted, and has the satisfaction of possessing
pretty clear evidence that he prevented a measure of trouble in the
prison, and thus rendered the warden some aid at least, and made his
task somewhat easier. Indeed, he did what he could in that direction,
though with no blowing of trumpets. And, after doing all this, to be
held up in this light by the agent is a pretty hard cut.
Now, one of two things is true in regard to all the quotations above
made. The assertors either believed they were telling the truth or they
did not. If the former be taken, if they really thought they could
purchase the articles they did and from them make the best quality of
food; if they really supposed the chaplain's moves were as deleterious
as they represent, what does it show in regard to their judgment as
fitting them for place and trust? or, if the other, what of their
character as to truth and veracity? Let them take which horn of the
dilemma they may choose.
One perhaps says, "The writers were so informed about the chaplain."
Could that be any extenuation of their wrong? If such insinuations had
been made to them, why did they not first give some intimation of it to
him, thus giving him the opportunity of showing their falsity? Why did
they not have the parties face to face, and thus learn the truth? But,
instead of this, they published what they did, and that to the injury of
an innocent man, so far as their influence could go.
But what could have impelled the assertors to such a course? The author
does not pretend to know, but it looks as though the object was in this
way to push the chaplain to resign, and they thus be rid of those reform
efforts. Hence p. 13,--"The prison is a penal institution, and is
intended for punishment, not primarily as a reformative one, as some
people think." Here is, undoubtedly, the key to this raid on the
chaplain. But what is its full import? These reformers fully believe
that the sentence of the court must be strictly carried out, and that,
too, as an element of reform. The above sentence must mean that the
prisoner is put there to be punished as the State directs by its laws
and courts, and, in addition, for the managers to "use him so that he
will not wish to come back," or to punish him as they may choose. If the
sentence means anything, it must mean that. This being the true way, let
us have it so understood, and, next summer, let the legislature
recognize the idea by a specific act, and then let the judge change his
sentence accordingly, putting it, "Your sentence is, that you be
confined at hard labor in the State Prison at Concord for ---- years,
and that you there be further punished at the discretion of the prison
officers acting for the time being." Let this be announced to all
evildoers; and, further, let the warden, agent and all, give a true
account of the severity of their several punishments, to be published
yearly, that the prison may thus appear as deterring to crime as
possible. Away with this covering up and pretending to the best living
and best usage generally, thus making the institution appear so
attractive. A lady visited a friend there and returned, having been
made, by the warden's palaver, perfectly reconciled to the friend's
condition, remarking, "They are kept so well there, and used so kindly,
that one can not feel bad at all about a friend in the prison, except
from the fact that he can not have his liberty to go out as he chooses."
I protest against such proceedings. But let the truth stand forth, just
as it is, that the wicked may really know upon what they must depend.
Why not put out the sentiment squarely that reform moves have no place
in the prison? Let us be truthful in this, too. Then dismiss the
chaplain and save that expense to the State, for he can be of no use.
It is made evident that the writers would banish from prison all reform
moves from this assertion, p. 13,--"We think, sometimes, the matter of
reform or sympathy for the prisoners is carried so far, in attempting to
reform, as to lead the prisoners to believe that they are injured
persons instead of transgressors, which is, in our opinion, wrong, and
has a bad tendency." Is not the writer here a little muddled? or would
he hold up these reformers as so absurd a set as to think of reforming
men by making them believe they are good already and really sinned
against? Indeed, would not the labors of such men of straw be bad? True,
the writer pretends to found his objections to the reform efforts on the
fact that they are carried too far, not perhaps, feeling exactly ready,
at this late day, to come out squarely against efforts to raise the
fallen, and to induce the erring to become good citizens. No, but it is
"carrying the matter too far." Just as though we could go too far in
efforts for saving the drowning man. Away with such a sham!
This indirect charge must have been aimed at the chaplain, for he was
the only prison officer, that year, who could rightly be accused of such
a crime as attempting reform moves.
We are again told that Mr. P. had brought the institution to where it
was "with firmness, but with kindness and a Christian spirit," which
unfolds the writer's views of "kindness" and the "Christian spirit." No
doubt the prisoners were just wicked enough to say, "Lord, deliver us
from all such 'Christian spirit.'"
We are further assured, that Mr. P. "has accomplished wonders in this
direction, for, in our view, there is now no better disciplined prison
in the N. E. states."
That is a very comfortable feeling, very much more so than the emotions
of some, who, going into others States, are made to blush at the taunts
thrown out about our prison management, that "such things will do for
you N. H. folks, for those so far on the background."
But let us turn to the financial part of the Report. Long before the
document made its appearance, it had been heralded far and wide in the
papers that those now running the prison had made it produce a clear
gain of over five thousand dollars in nine months. Of course, making
this announcement was for personal popularity. Let us look at the
figures after the Report comes to hand. Number of prisoners, 85 males
and 6 females. Profits reported for nine months and twenty days,
$5173.51, including $396.65 paid on roofing shop. Without deducting this
item, we have $5570.16 gain over the real running expenses, which, for a
whole year, would amount to $6914.67. Let us compare this with the gain
of the Massachusetts State Prison for '72, that Report being at hand.
Its number of inmates were 543. If our 91 prisoners gained what they are
represented, then 543, in that proportion, would gain $41,260.06,
without considering the advantage in larger numbers. Reckoning that in,
it would raise this gain to some $45,000, no doubt, the gain of
Massachusetts in proportion to ours. But what was her gain? It was
$14,635.23, ours being, in proportion, more than three times as much as
hers, we thus leaving her all out of sight.
The writers say, p. 11, in regard to Mr. P., "His management has been
perfectly satisfactory to your committee. The results of his
administration are the most conclusive proofs of its efficiency." Do any
wonder that the committee should be satisfied with such showing, if
looking to nothing but to the dollars and cents?
But does not the announcement itself show an aggravated wrong to the
prisoners, or a false representation? It must be one or the other, if
not both. There is no possible way to accomplish all this by honest
shrewdness in financiering and rightful treatment to the convicts. All
articles of food have their market value. If really suitable for use,
the value is fixed for the time being, from which no material deduction
can be had. Things have their wholesale and retail prices. True, these
vary more or less, from accidental causes, such as the abundance or
scarcity of the article, the state of the money market, or the season of
the year. Buyers, by watching these accidental influences, may purchase
more or less to their advantage. And one can look to these points, and
profit from them, as well as another. Prison providers, especially in
large establishments, will purchase, of course, at wholesale, and those
at Charlestown enjoy quite as good advantages, to say the least, for
sharing in these accidentals as those at Concord; and they no doubt look
out quite as shrewdly. If, however, one is willing to turn from articles
fit for use, he can find those as cheap as he desires, going down from
thirteen cents to three or one, if he likes.
Then this boast of great gains at our prison gives a suspicious look,
to say the least. If we allow for all that cruel cutting off, previously
depicted, and even more, that would not bring the accounts to what would
appear probable. The agent, in purchasing legitimate articles,
manifested no skill beyond others. He certainly ran behind on wood as as
I happened to learn by experience. The man who furnished the prison with
this, agreed to supply some for me, of the same quality and price, but
failed to bring it at the time, which forced me to look elsewhere for
what I needed and which I found, with no extra painstaking and at a
bargain, reckoning price and quality, better by one dollar at least per
cord.
But if this withholding from the prisoners what they so greatly needed
and what was their just due, will not bring the accounts within the
region of probability, to what source shall we look for the discrepancy?
Let us examine the accounts carefully and see what we thus find. True,
it is said, "Figures won't lie," but men, when disposed, may so use them
as to lead wide of the truth. In our examination we find the same
dealing as before pointed out. Important items of expense in running the
institution are deliberately omitted in reckoning. Thus, there is the
warden's salary of $1000, the chaplain's, $750, printing the Report,
$121,98, appraisers', $78, amounting to $1949,98. Subtracting this from
the pretended gain, $6914,67 - 1949,98, gives 4964,69. Let us see what
this would be with the Charlestown number of men, $29,625,56, over two
times the comparative gain at Charlestown, a very large margin to be
accounted for in our withholding.
Certainly we can not afford to boast very loudly over these figures, but
should rather blush. The reader should bear in mind, that the prisoners
are let at both places on contract, ours at ninety cents per day, and
those in Massachusetts for over one dollar, so that her prison managers
enjoy an advantage over ours for rolling up gains. And when we talk of
gaining more than twice as much as she, we have reason to fear that
those hearing us will say, that too many of those dollars were ground
out of the flesh, and blood, and sinews, and life even of the
prisoners,--not a very welcome sentiment.
45. _Efforts of the Prison Aid Association for legislation in favor of
the prison._ The Governor, in his message of '69, proposed that the
prison be put under the management of a Board especially appointed to
that purpose. But, instead of this, and in connection, making such other
provisions for the institution as were really needed, the legislature
simply passed the whole matter over into the hands of the Governor and
Council, as this Board, an improvement somewhat, no doubt, over the
former system, but an arrangement, which, in the views of many of our
best citizens, carries with it grave objections.
The Board, thus constituted, is a changeable body, the members never
remaining in office more than two years, and sometimes but one. As a
result, the prison must necessarily be managed largely by the
inexperienced, for the men, generally, no doubt, come to the office
without having given any special attention to the subject. This is much
like setting a company of untaught landsmen to navigate a ship.
Again, the prison is liable to no little changeableness in its mode of
being directed, a great detriment to its welfare, unless it be from bad
to good. Men will possess their varying notions, and some, though
lacking a knowledge of the best prison interests, will persist in
having their peculiar views put in practice, however conflicting and
contradictory. It is also now liable to be left largely in the hands of
the warden to be run as he wills, besides being exposed to the
unfavorable effects of political party influence. Finally, the
institution can receive only its part of the largely divided attention
of its managers, and thereby, at times, be liable to inconvenience.
But the best interest of the prison evidently demands the control of men
especially adapted to their task, men who shall form a body with all
possible permanence, possess ripe experience, be free in their rule from
partisan control, who shall make the institution their speciality, and
manage after some fixed policy involving the most enlightened
principles, principles of true reform.
The Association took up these matters, and for the purpose of obtaining
legislation looking as undividedly in this direction as possible,
appointed a committee, of which Rev. Mr. Sanborn of Concord served as
chairman, who should, after due investigation and correspondence with
other States, prepare the requisite bill for legislative consideration.
After much labor, the following, as subsequently amended, was presented
to the legislature at its session in '71.
STATE OF NEW HAMPSHIRE.
IN THE YEAR OF OUR LORD ONE THOUSAND EIGHT HUNDRED AND
SEVENTY-ONE.
An act in relation to the Penal Institutions.
_Be it enacted by the Senate and House of
Representatives in General Court convened:_
SECTION 1. There shall be a Board of directors of
Prisons to consist of five persons appointed by the
Governor, by and with the advice and consent of the
Senate, who shall hold office for five years, except
that the five first appointed shall hold their office
for 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 years respectively, the commission
of each designating his term of office. Thereafter one
Director shall be appointed annually in the month of
June, to hold his office five years. Such Board shall
have charge and superintendence of the State Prison,
and shall have such power, and perform such duties in
respect to County Jails, the Reform School and other
penal and reformatory institutions within the State, as
the Legislature may by law impose upon it. The Board
may, from time to time, elect from its own members or
otherwise, a Secretary, who shall perform such duties
as the Board may prescribe, and shall receive such
salary as the Legislature may determine. The other
members of the Board shall receive no compensation,
other than reasonable and other traveling expenses,
while engaged in the performance of official duty. And
the limit of such expenses shall be in amount ---- to
each individual, which shall not be changed except at
intervals of five years.