The Project Gutenberg EBook of Woman in Prison, by Caroline H. Woods This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Woman in Prison Author: Caroline H. Woods Release Date: November 24, 2013 [EBook #44273] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WOMAN IN PRISON *** Produced by Dianna Adair, Heike Leichsenring and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) WOMAN IN PRISON. BY CAROLINE H. WOODS. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY HURD AND HOUGHTON. Cambridge: Riverside Press. 1869. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by Caroline H. Woods, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Massachusetts. RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. WHY WRITTEN. I was reading an evening paper. I glanced over the advertisements. One attracted my attention, and held it so strongly that I read it over and over, again and again. There was nothing unusual in it to ordinary observation. It read, "Wanted. —At the Penitentiary, a Matron. Inquire at the Institution." I turned the paper over to read the general news; but could not place my thoughts so as to comprehend the meaning of the words before my sight. Without the intention to do so, I looked again at the advertisement. It became a study to me. Said Thought—If you were to answer that advertisement, and obtain the situation, it would place you upon missionary ground, and at the same time give you employment which would afford you a support while you are teaching the ignorant. You would get knowledge in the position. A new phase of life would be opened to your view. You would have an opportunity to observe, practically, how well the present system of prison discipline is adapted to reform convicts, and repress crime. But the cost is too much. I cannot become a Matron in a Penitentiary. I laid the paper down, without reading it, because I could see nothing in it except that advertisement. The next day I went in town, sat down in the office of a friend, and took up a morning paper. No sooner had I opened it than that advertisement spread itself out before me. It changed the form of its appeal; left out what my selfishness might gain, to enlist my compassion and aid, entirely, in what I might accomplish for others. It called to me, in piteous tones, to go work for the prisoner. It was the echo of a voice that I long ago heard, Come into our prisons, and help us, we beseech you! I cannot! I have other things to do, and they are as much for the benefit of humanity as anything I may be able to accomplish for you. My spirit darkened as I made the answer; a cloud of guilt settled down upon it. I threw down the paper in order to dissipate it, and to avoid the plea. I turned and talked with my friend; but my thoughts were not in what we were saying. That advertisement followed them, and filled them to the exclusion of every other subject. In the abstraction which it caused the hour in which I was to leave the city passed, and I missed my train. I must remain and avail myself of another. While I was waiting, that advertisement returned to my reflections, and urged its cause imperatively as a command. It was a call, to me, resistless as the voice that awoke the young Israelitish Prophet from his slumbers. In another moment the struggle with my pride was over, and my spirit answered,—I will go, even to lust-besotted Sodom if thou leadest, Light of my path! I seated myself in a street car, went to the prison, applied for the place, and obtained it. Day by day I wrote down what I saw and heard, what I said and did. Why? In obedience to the same Voice that called me to the work. The tale is before you. May it touch the heart of every one who reads the story, and melt it into a compassion which will labor for the redemption of the prisoner; into a pity which will echo around the cry—Open the prison doors, not to let the prisoner go free, but to let in, to him, the light of moral knowledge, and the discipline of Christian charity. CONTENTS. PAGE WHY WRITTEN iii I. FIRST DAY IN PRISON 1 II. AT NIGHT 13 III. SECOND DAY IN PRISON 23 IV. A QUARREL, AND DISCIPLINE 34 V. THE SUPERVISOR, AND THE RULES 48 VI. FIRST NIGHT ALONE IN PRISON 58 VII. THE MASTER AND THE RULES 75 VIII. MRS. HARDHACK 79 IX. A BREAD-AND-WATER BOARDER 87 X. AN ARRIVAL 93 XI. INSIDE MANAGEMENT 98 XII. SUNDAY 102 XIII. LIFE AMONG THE LOWLY 110 XIV. INSPECTION OF PRIVATE APARTMENTS 127 XV. A DAY OF ODDS AND ENDS 138 XVI. A FRIGHT 151 XVII. VISITING DAY 156 XVIII. CALLAHAN AGAIN 163 XIX. DISCOMFORTS, AND THE END 178 I. FIRST DAY IN PRISON. It was Saturday morning that I became an inmate of the Penitentiary. I was conducted to the kitchen, where I was to oversee the cooking for the prisoners, and to the prison adjoining it, which I was to see kept in order, by the Deputy Master of the institution, who gave me my keys and installed me in my office of Prison Matron. When we first went in he called the six women who do the work in the kitchen, and the three "sweeps" who keep the prison clean, to him, and presented their new mistress, in my person, to them. They were convicts that surrounded me at his call; but they were human beings. Human faces looked up to mine for sympathy and care. Some of them were fine looking, even in their coarse uniform, some were pretty as I picked them out one by one. They all looked at me earnestly, for a few moments, as though they were reading their sentence of harshness or kindly treatment, under my rule, in my face; then, turned away to their work again. They whispered as they stood together, and I saw by their furtive glances that they were watching, and discussing me, as I walked around to take a survey of my new field of labor. They were undoubtedly commenting upon my personal appearance; and making their predictions as to my sharpness in detecting their impositions, and ability to control their perverseness; or, I imagined so. The Deputy showed me the mush boiler, that would cook two large tubs full of that farinaceous edible at a time; the potato steamer, that would hold four barrels of that esculent vegetable at a cooking; the soup and coffee kettles, of still larger dimensions; and that comprised all of the apparatus required in preparing the mammoth meals which were to serve above four hundred people. These cooking utensils were kept in operation by pipes conducting steam to them from a boiler stationed in the middle of the room. When he put the steam boiler under my direction I shrank back in terror from the task of managing it. The huge culinary apparatus, which he had been exhibiting, although outside the pale of ordinary housekeeping, was still within the reach of my understanding; but I had no idea of the management of steam; it was not only a difficult, but dangerous affair. "The house will surely be blown up if you leave the care of that upon me," I said to him. "You must watch it very closely." "I don't know how, and I have no aptness for learning that kind of science." "One of the women will tend it." And he went on with explanations that were all Greek to me. "It is safe when you have on twenty pounds of steam. There is your gauge," and he pointed to a clock-like looking affair on the wall. "That hand will move round and tell you how much steam you have on. You must keep water enough in the boiler or you will get blown up. If it runs from that centre stopcock, on the side, it is safe. You notice that glass tube in front. The water is just as high in that as it is in the boiler. This faucet is to let the water off if you get the boiler too full. Turn that faucet when you let the water on," and he went along and pointed to one in a pipe by the wall, "and that pump is there in case of accident. You must have it worked every day so as to keep it in order." All knowledge is useful, I thought, and in time I shall understand running a steam-engine. As the women have been trusted with the dangerous thing, they may still continue to be, till I have leisure to learn the science of steam as applied to cooking. After I had taken a survey of the kitchen the Deputy took me into the women's prison which led out of it. The centre of the hollow square, in which the dormitories are built, looked like a huge block of glittering ice, so white were the washed walls of brick and stone. The black, grated doors of the cells, inserted into them, like the teeth of grinning demons, were ranged along the sides about two feet apart, tier after tier, five stories, one above another. The Deputy led me along past the iron doors. I trembled and shrank back; but I had no idea of receding from my undertaking. I "screwed my courage to the sticking-point," and looked into the narrow, stone rooms; but it was many days before I could force myself to enter one. I grew heart-sick, and faint with apprehension of unknown terrors at their cheerless aspect. "What lodgings for human beings!" I exclaimed. "They are not very pleasant," said the Deputy. "If you were the one to blame for it I should certainly charge you with great inhumanity." "I suppose you will think us very cruel sometimes." "In this case I don't know as you can help it. You did not make these sleeping apartments for the prisoners. The public functionaries of the State may be thanked for showing such tender mercies as these." "We are used to seeing them, and they don't look to us as they do to you." "Does that make them any more comfortable for the prisoners? Do they get used to them so as to be comfortable?" "I presume so. I know they are more comfortable places than some had before they came here." "Then it should be the work of the vaunting Christianity of this religious land to raise such degradation to cleanliness, comfort, and respectability." "There might be a great deal done in that direction if people were only disposed to do it." "Our prisons are rather private affairs, I believe. They can only be visited on certain days and occasions." "It would be very inconvenient for our work to have people running in, and over the place at all times. We could not have it. And it wouldn't be liked by the prisoners to be gazed at constantly." I made no reply; but I thought it might have a salutary effect upon the discipline of the prison, which he had just said I might think cruel, to be exposed to the observation of the public. The prisoners must have lost the sensibility which would shrink from being made a spectacle before they came in there. If visiting were allowed only on certain days and occasions, the place and the convicts would be put in order for company, and a very incorrect idea of the every-day life of the prisoners would be obtained. If there were liberty to visit the place, every day, many might go from curiosity, and it might become annoying. That very curiosity might discover and discuss faults in the management, which ought to be remedied, and thus produce a counterbalancing benefit. The officers might dislike such scrutiny, especially, if they were not doing their duty. They are officers of the government. Is it not proper that their conduct should be looked after by the people as much as that of any other government official? Evil comrades might go in and hold improper communication with the prisoners. Can they not do that on regular visiting days? Is it not only the work of humanity to see that crime is punished in a way that will not increase it; but also that of the legislator as a matter of civil policy; and that of the taxpayer as a matter of personal interest. It should interest every man and woman as a matter of personal protection from the depredations of vice to know how convicts are treated, and to judge whether that treatment tends to reform the criminal, or to harden and lead him deeper into crime when he is let out into the world again to pursue his own ways. Ought the punishment of criminals, who have been tried, convicted, and sentenced publicly, to be conducted in secret? It is to be presumed that the keeper of the prison is trusty. There should be no presumption in the matter. It should be known that he is so, and he should be kept so by the ceaseless vigilance of public inspection. What is the quarterly, or semi-annual visit of fifty or a hundred men when the visit has been notified, and the prison put in order for their reception, towards effecting that? My residence in that prison led me to see that the descriptions of Dickens, and his compeers in the regions of fictitious writing, have given, not the poetic illusions of imaginary sufferings to the contemplation of the world—hardly a vivid picture of the truth. God speed the day when our prisons and penitentiaries may take a place beside public schools, orphan asylums, houses of refuge, all institutions for the cultivation of a knowledge which tends to the elevation of virtue, and the suppression of vice, in the care of the public! Our own children may not stimulate to an interest in them. Our own children may not require the benefit of the public school, or orphan asylum; but somebody's children will. In working for the elevation of everybody's children are we not benefiting our own? After he had shown me around, so that I might take a general survey of my field of labor, the Deputy left me with my charge, saying,— "You are mistress here. No one has a right to interfere with you, and you are responsible to no one but me, or the Master." "But the Head Matron will, of course, come and instruct me in the details of my work. I must know what work belongs to each woman, and how she is expected to perform it." "The women know their work and will do it. The most you have to do is to keep order." "That may be a man's idea of managing a kitchen; but there are a great many details that I ought to understand in order to get the work properly done, and done in its proper time; and with the greatest ease to myself and the women." "The other Matrons will tell you. I will tell you all I can." I thought, but I did not say it,—You are better disposed than informed. He saw by the anxious expression of my face that I was not satisfied, and added, "The women know, they will tell you." I made no reply; but I thought—It is not the proper thing for me to receive my instructions from the convicts. It is their place to be instructed by me. If I am taught by them, I am placed in an inferior position to them. In order to entertain a proper respect for me they should look up to me as their superior in all things. The arrangement for receiving my directions from them placed me too much in their power also. It would be only indulging natural proclivities to "play off" on me under the circumstances; and I could hardly expect these poor, abandoned creatures to be superior to the temptation to do it when the opportunity was afforded them. I could not consider such teachers reliable. If, by misleading me, with regard to a rule of the institution, they could obtain an indulgence, or relieve themselves of a burden, would they not take the advantage which they had of me and do it. I was suspicious that they would. There was, probably, some pride mixed with these considerations, that rebelled against becoming a pupil of convicts when I was their mistress. I stood looking on, or walking around, watching the movements of the women very narrowly, till one of the other Matrons came in. Then, I went to her with a volume of questions. To most of them I received the answer,— "I don't know about that particularly. I have never had anything to do with this department." "Then, how am I to learn my duties, and get definite orders for the regulation of my work? Is there no Head Matron, no superior officer in the women's prison to whom I can go?" "The Master's wife is enrolled as Head Matron, and receives pay as such, but she never comes round." "I would go to her if I knew where to find her." "I don't think she knows much more about it than you do, if you were to go to her. We will all tell you." "But you don't know. If there is a Head Matron, and she is paid for doing the duties of one, why does she not perform them? Is she enrolled head officer of this prison merely to obtain the salary? The government is very obliging to make her office a sinecure." I was already perplexed—I was beginning to get vexed. "Her husband does them for her, perhaps." "Perhaps! Then why is he not here, to tell me the work which belongs to each woman, and how she is to do it; what work is required, and how I am to get my things to do with? But how can the Master attend to his own duties and those of the Head Matron too?" "The Deputy will tell you." "He must have his own duties to attend to—how can he perform hers? He is just as willing to tell me as you are, and I don't think he knows any more about my place than you do." "The women know, they will tell you." I was thrown back upon the convicts again for my instructions. I went on, despairing of help, to study them out as best I could. Sometimes by asking left-hand questions of the women, and sometimes by getting direct explanations from them; but chiefly by watching the progress of the work. The place seemed to me full of disorder, confusion, and dirt. When the Deputy came round again, I was full of trouble. He said, when I complained to him,— "You will find things in confusion. The Matron who went away yesterday was inefficient." "Perhaps so," I replied; "but the confusion appears to me to date farther back than the last Matron. It arises from the want of a head officer to regulate affairs." "I have double the trouble on this side, with four Matrons and a hundred women, than with three hundred men and more than a dozen officers on the other." "You would insinuate that women are more difficult to get on with than men. I make a very different solution of the difficulty in this particular case. You are on the ground all of the time; explain his duty to every officer, and see that he does it. That makes the officer's work distinct before him. It is done under your eye, which makes it promptly and well done. If that were the case on this side, we might be as orderly, and have as little trouble in performing our part, as you on yours. The cook tells me that certain work belongs to the slide woman; the slide woman says it belongs to the sink women; the sink women shift it on the steam woman, and so I am kept on the chase, from one to another, for some one to do a piece of labor. I do not know who ought to do it, and they know it. If they do not intend to confuse me, they intend to clear themselves of all the work they can." "Use your own judgment, and call on whom you please. They are all obliged to obey any order that you give." "If I call upon one to do the work that has formerly been done by another, I stir up ill feelings among the prisoners towards each other, and contention, and they think me hard and unjust. It makes me trouble. They obey my order reluctantly, and say, 'That isn't my work.'" "If they quarrel, they know the punishment. If they refuse to obey your orders, report them to me, and I will put them where they will be glad to obey." He nodded towards the prison door. I knew he must refer to some kind of punishment. I did not know what; but frightful visions of the cruelties of which I had read rose in my imagination, and I said no more. I vowed to myself that I would never get them punished by refusing to obey my unjust exactions if I could help it. My thoughts did not stop with my words. I reasoned with myself. If my ignorance, or bad management, cause me to be unjust towards those women, and if I, by my injustice, arouse their bad temper so as to cause them to be punished, who will be most in fault? I decided that I should be. The question suggested itself to me—If you get them punished unjustly who will avenge them? The All-seeing-Eye will notice, and avenge it. I will be careful. I resolved to feel my way along softly and carefully. There was no relief for my dilemma, except in my own ingenuity to find out the ways of the place, and the proper management to apply to it. II. AT NIGHT. At seven o'clock, P.M., came the marching in to supper, and the locking up of all the prisoners. I looked to see, as they filed past me, one by one, if they carried marks of their crimes upon their faces. I saw nothing unusual in the mass; occasionally an individual countenance betrayed the vicious habits which had brought the woman there. If I had not known that they were convicts, I should never have suspected them to be different from the ordinary poor people who are constantly passing along the streets. About sixty of the women in the Penitentiary were employed in the shop upon contract vests, pantaloons, coats, and shirts. There were about fifty employed upon sewing-machines. The rest cut, basted, and finished the work. There were from four to ten in the wash-room. These were all lodged in my domain, with the exception of two or three who slept in the hospital. When they left their work, at night, they were placed in file, in the order of their cells, and marched into the prison past the ration door, where their meals were handed out to them, through a slide, from the kitchen. Their supper was a "skillet pan" of mush, or a slice of bread, and a quart of rye coffee, which was taken to their cells to be eaten after they were locked in their rooms—or stone dens, I called them in my indignation. The sight of those little, cramped stone cells recalled to my memory the pictures of dungeons, and imprisonments, and tortures which I had looked at in my childhood till my heart was racked with agony at the cruelties which they portrayed. It was no paper picture that I was looking upon, but a stern reality; and my shrinking spirit asked again and again, as I saw those poor creatures marched in, and immured for the night,—Why did your folly prompt you to undertake such work? Never shall I forget the hissing creak of the sliding bar as it closed them in; or the click of the lock as I turned the key in it, for the first time, upon those poor wretches. Long before I got through with the thirty-six locks, it fell to my share to bolt, my fingers were bruised, and my arm ached; but not so much as my heart. I looked in upon the poor things, one by one, as I locked them in. An agony of pity worked itself into my soul, and oppressed me almost to suffocation. I said to myself—Is this a woman's work? May be. If it must be done, it should be done tenderly. Great God, for Christ's sake, pity them in their cold, damp, narrow cells, and make their straw pallets couches of rest! I prayed mentally as I left the grated doors. I had thought this to be missionary ground. I might teach some of them the way to Eternal Life, and the way to reformation. Alas! I found little chance with those who went to the shop and wash-room. They rose at sunrise, and worked till sunset. No one was allowed to hold communication with them, but their own Overseer, about their work. Neither were they allowed to talk in their cells at night, and they would have been too tired if they had been given the liberty to do so. The taskmaster had been over them all day to drive them, pitilessly, to fulfill their sentence of so many months hard labor in the Penitentiary. I turned away, sadly, from that disappointed hope; but I saw the opportunity still before me to teach the nine, whom I had under my immediate care, to govern their tempers, and their passions, and to lead a new life. It was teaching only that could effect it. They were ignorant of the way to do it. My bonnet and shawl had lain all day upon the table that was placed for my use in the kitchen. The woman, who was to wait upon me in my room, had asked if she should take them up. I had said, no, thinking I might find time to go with her; but that opportunity did not offer. After the women were locked up, the Receiving Matron said to her, "Take those things to our room! We will go up now," she said to me. I started back as she led me to the stone stairs of the prison, and began to ascend them. "Where are we going?" I asked in surprise. "Our room is up here," she replied quietly. "In the prison! are we to sleep in the prison?" "Yes." She made no further comment. It was too late in the day to recede or demur. I followed her up, up, up, over five stone flights, along a stone walk to the farther end of the building, through a grated door, into a room made up of a half dozen cells with a dormer window in the roof. Some straw had been thrown down upon the stone floor, and an old woolen carpet laid over it. The walls were of stone like the cells, and whitewashed like them. There were some wooden chairs, an old bureau, two sinks, and two single beds, arranged on opposite sides of the room. In one corner was a double wardrobe, apparently to be shared in common by both Matrons. I had not given my own accommodations a thought in taking my place in the prison. In all institutions of the kind which I had ever been in, each Matron had a nice bed-room to herself, in a comfortable part of the house, and most of them comfortable sitting-rooms attached. It never occurred to me that a female officer, in any public institution, could be requested to occupy such a room. However I could bring myself to it for the sake of carrying out the purpose that induced me to take the place. I stood a moment, and looked all round the room. I then examined the bed. It was clean, and looked comfortable. "Is this all the room, and are these all the comforts we are to have?" I asked of the Receiving Matron. "You see all," she replied. "If we had more, we should have no time to enjoy them." "Rather a sorry prospect if one is to take herself into consideration at all. Is there a bath-room that we can use? To take a bath would be really refreshing, and help me to sleep to-night, I am so tired." "I am tired all of the time, and there is no chance to rest. We must rise at four in the morning, and be on the spring every moment till eight in the evening; you will be on duty till nine, because you receive the keys at that hour." "Every day?" "Every day!" "There is usually a Relief Matron in such institutions, so that the other Matrons can have rest." "There used to be one here; but, instead of that, there is an Assistant Matron in the shop." "Then the Shop Matron has all of the relief, and the others none. Why is that?" "They want to get as much work done in the shop as possible, to support the institution, the Master says. When I get tired, and feel like grumbling, I tell them it is money taken out of our flesh and blood to make the institution rich." "It is probably the way the Master takes to recommend himself to the Board of Directors. They like him for his thrift in managing." "I don't know where the money goes; but I know we are worked to death. I am dying by inches." "Why must I be up an hour later than the rest to receive the keys?" "Because you have them in charge during the night, those that stay in the prison. If you are out, I take them." "Out! What time have I to go out?" "Three evenings in the week, after the prisoners are locked up, if you wish." "What time have I then?" "You can be gone till four o'clock in the morning, if you like." "When shall I sleep?" "You can make your own arrangements for that. Perhaps on the way, if you take a horse car." "I am afraid to go out evenings alone; but in that relief I can get a bath." "I forgot your question about the bath-room. There is none, that I know of, for the officers' use. There is one in the house for the Master's family. I don't know whether the Matrons that lodge there are allowed to use it." "Then some of the Matrons are lodged comfortably in the house. Why is that distinction made?" "I don't know. There are bathing-tubs, for the prisoners, in my wash-house. I never use them; but if you wish to, you can. They are scrubbed out clean." "I must be up from four A.M., 'till nine P.M. That makes seventeen hours of labor." "Sometimes you will be required to sit up one, two, or three hours later." "Why?" "The Master's wife or daughters may have company, and keep the women up-stairs. We have to sit up and wait for them to come in, so as to lock them up." "And be up all the same at four next morning?" "Yes." "Do the Master's wife and daughters get up at four the next morning, after sitting up so late, and go to work?" "Of course not." "If the wife is Head Matron, has she not her duties to do in the morning as well as we? And ought she not to see that the other officers are not worked like that? If she possesses the common feelings of humanity, she would provide some relief, if it were in her power." "There is not much humanity in exercise here. We are all too hard worked to think of any one but ourselves." "I should think that might be your case." "I often tell them it is as much a House of Correction for the officers as the prisoners." "Ten hours of labor is now considered a good day's work. To drag the convicts from sunrise to sunset only exhausts them. They do not get through with as much work as they would do in ten hours, and the intervening time given to rest." "That has been an established rule here for fifty years or more." "It is certainly a very antiquated idea, all of a half century old. I recollect hearing my grandfather say that people worked that way when he was a boy. But people's ideas have changed since that time, and the people of this generation consider such demands of labor very unreasonable." "The only changes here have been to make things harder. They will put upon you all they can make you do." If she had been telling the truth that was a plain, but correct statement of facts. "How long has the present Master had charge here?" "Forty-five or fifty years." "It is no wonder that his heart has become like the nether millstone. No man ought to remain in such a place such a length of time. The best human heart that ever beat would become ossified, if it ever entertained human feelings, if compelled to exercise such continued tyrannous exactions." "I don't know whether he ever had human feelings—he does not exercise much humanity, as I regard it, now." "But he does not make the laws for the regulation of the institution. There must be State laws and a Board of Overseers to which he is accountable. There must be printed regulations for the management of this prison. I will get them from the Deputy to-morrow." "If you can, you will accomplish more than the rest of us have been able to do." "I can try." "You can try, and I hope you will succeed. The rest of us have been told that there were no printed rules that would do us any good. It may be a benefit to the rest of us if you succeed." I lay down upon my bed. Sleep was out of the question. The effluvia of a hundred human bodies came up through our open door, rank with nauseous odor. I got up and opened our one window to its utmost extent, first asking my room- mate if it would be disagreeable to her to have it left so. Fatigue even would not overcome the noise of the rattling buckets, the snoring, coughing, and groaning of the tired women. If I closed my eyes, my head was in confusion. I was going up, up, up over the stone steps, and looking over the rails down the dizzy height, to the stone floor below. I lay thinking over my prison prospects. Seventeen hours of regular labor, to which might be added occasionally, one, two, or three more. The other seven, with the noise of that prison ringing in my ears, and the care of it, if accident or sickness intervene. How long can any constitution bear such a strain? Surely the Board of Directors cannot understand how things are managed here. They cannot understand the amount of work which is demanded by the Master of his female Prison Matron. One other was no more favored, by her own account. I was glad when the four o'clock bell rung me up to my duties. III. SECOND DAY IN PRISON. There was a small bell hung directly over my head; the wire from it reached into the men's prison. It was rung by the watchman at four o'clock in the morning, to call me up. I sprang out of bed at the first tinkle, threw a shawl around me, put my feet into my slippers, ran down, unlocked my steam woman to make her fire, and my cook to start her breakfast. I let them into the kitchen, and locked them in. Then, I went back to dress myself. Up, up, over the five flights, past the grated doors, over the stone walks. The air of that prison sent a chill over me like that of a tomb. Were not those cells the tomb of love, of hope, of peace, and respectability! In them lay buried all of this world's success, all that it values: how much of the inheritance of the life to come God knows. Those black doors were a pall of disgrace of deeper dye than that which covers the coffin with its lifeless clay. I was chilled through and through by my thoughts and the objects that engendered them. And those objects were to be ever there before my sight, while I remained in prison, and those thoughts must ever arise to be my company. I could escape; no prison bar was slid upon me to keep me there; but the convicts must remain. The unyielding lock, the unremitting toil, the pursuing regret, and the torture of remorse were before them, upon them, within them. I might be able to speak to them a word of pity, of hope in a better life to come. The thought gave me courage to go to my day's work. I took no unnecessary time for personal adorning; but my fingers were benumbed and moved slowly. I had scarcely finished dressing when the "first bell" rung. That was the large bell in the yard that called all of the prisoners from their beds. At that signal I was to assist in unlocking the rest of the women. If they were not out of their beds when the key was put in the lock, they were called to sharply by the Matron who was with me— "Come, get up! How dare you lie there after the first bell has rung!" It might prove necessary to talk to some laggards in that harsh way; but I would try some other method, with those of whom I had the care, first. Yawning, and groaning, and moaning, they dragged themselves out of their beds and made them up. After this was done they tied them up against the wall with a cord which was attached to the iron bars upon which the bed rested, and then passed over a hook in the side of the cell. Then, they stood waiting for the second bell, which was the signal for them to go to work. Poor, pitiable objects, they looked, as they were mustered for the long day's drill of thankless, unrequited toil. They worked without a motive, and they went to it with listless indifference, or the sullen determination to escape all of the task which they could. They accomplished their work as it was driven from them; not by the lash, but by fear of passing the night upon the bare iron bars of their bed-frame; or the stone floor of the solitary cell, without covering beside their ordinary dress, without food, save the daily slice of bread and quart of cold water. Between the ringing of the bells the unlocking had been accomplished. One of the sweeps was stationed at the end of the upper tier of cells. When the second bell rung I called to her,— "Slide your bar!" The long bar that runs across the top of all the cells of one division, with a bolt reaching down over each door to keep it shut when it is unlocked, was then drawn out by her, so that the doors could be opened. I then called,— "Third Division!" At that they all appeared at their doors. I called, "Front!" The doors were opened, and they stood on the threshold. "Right face!" All wheeled to the right. "March!" was the next order. At that word they marched down the stairs, in the order that they came out of their cells, deposited the ration pan and quart, in which they had carried their supper to their rooms the night before, on the ration table, to be taken into the kitchen and washed, ready to receive their breakfast, which was passed out in them when they came in from work at seven. The other divisions were called out in the same way, and followed in their order. Unrefreshed, sleepy, and without energy, they moved along to their two hours of labor before breakfast. And such a breakfast to look forward to when it came. Rye coffee and mush, varied with brown bread once a week, and this purposely stinted to the least possible amount which one could subsist on and work. I noticed that most of them took only their coffee, and worked upon that when it was brown bread morning till the noon meal came. Many a one looked into her quart, as she passed me, and sighed out, "God help us!" "May He help you! He only can—I cannot," was my response; but not always made audibly. He only knew how I longed to do so. I often said to myself, as the days passed on, I would not starve a dumb dog as those poor human things are starved. I would not work a dumb animal as those poor human things are worked! Nor would the Master feed his horse as they were fed; nor would he stall him as those prisoners were lodged. I did what I could for them. I asked the Deputy if he could not substitute flour bread for the brown which they refused. He answered,— "No! They will come to it. The Master will not change the order." They did not come to it. And day after day, as I saw them go breakfastless to their work, I wished,—was it wrong? perhaps so,—that the avenger might be on the track of that unfeeling Master, and that the day might come when he might be obliged to breakfast upon a quart of rye coffee and a slice of brown bread, instead of the steaks, and eggs, and toasts, and other delicacies that I saw carried to his room from the kitchen, as I passed through it to the officers' dining-room. If it aroused such indignation to witness such cruelty, what must it do in the hearts of those who suffer from it! Does such correction of convicts tend to arouse better purposes in their hearts than those which brought them into prison? Such treatment aroused in them anger and revenge. When they dared, and in every way which they could invent without laying themselves liable to punishment, they gave expression to their feelings. When they were dismissed from the prison, the officer usually remarked, "We shall have that boarder back again." The answer that I should have made, had I spoken my thoughts, would have been—The whole tendency of their discipline here is to produce that end. The first thing that I did, after breakfast was over, was to take the names of my six kitchen women, and learn, as nearly as I could, just what work belonged to each one of them. There were two sink women, McMullins and Magill. Their work was to wash the dishes, keep the sink clean, and scrub about one quarter of the floor. The slide woman scrubbed the ration table, a certain portion of the floor, washed the quarts and piled them up, scrubbed the table in the centre of the room, took care of the flour bread when it came in, and the pieces that were left. At meal time she passed out the coffee, and put the potatoes in the ration pans. The cook made the mush, which was boiled twice a day, the soup, and hash, and stewed the peas. She had a certain portion of the floor to scrub, and the room to keep tidy, as well as her boilers to wash. The steam woman took care of the steam boiler, made the coffee, helped the cook slice the meat, and kept her portion of the floor clean. It was a part of her work to pile the ration pans in rows of pyramids on the centre table. The one who tended the women's slide had one half of the floor to scrub, and the Master's furnace, which stood in the centre of the kitchen, to tend. There were many things to be done in common, where all helped; like the carrying out of the swill, which was emptied into tubs when the ration pans came in to be washed. That was carried a long way down the yard, poured into barrels, and left for the yard man to take to the piggery. They all helped to bring up the potatoes, four barrels at a time, wash them in the sink with a large bat-stick, and then put them in the boiler to be cooked by steam. To make the confusion more confounded, the work was changed round, and new hands put to it, the day I went there. The bringing up of the coal, for the steam boiler, which had heretofore devolved upon the steam woman, was now required of all the rest, to be divided among them, because the steam woman had had a broken wrist, and it was not quite strong again. That gave dissatisfaction, and created grumbling, and the constant contention of shifting the labor from one to the other. The rest were constantly fretting Allen, the steam woman, because she asked it of them. To settle the difficulty I asked the Deputy, when he came round,—"who should bring up the coal for Allen?" "Any of them that you see fit to order." That was an excellent hint to me. Allen had been in the habit of giving her own orders, which made it necessary for me to interfere continually so as to get them executed, and also to keep peace. They invariably answered her back with refusal when she asked for coal, and made altercation over every bucket that was needed. All orders, like information, were given promiscuously. I at once gave direction that all orders were to be given through me. "Allen, when you wish for coal, come to me for it!" Orders had no authority when given by one to another; and by watching I discovered that Allen was disposed to retaliate the little peckings she received, by making the one that aggravated her most bring up the most coal. It was more than one day's work to bring them to this arrangement. So I made it another rule that when they differed they were never to answer back; but come to me to settle the trouble. That was rather more difficult to establish than the first, they were so hot-headed, and anxious to defend themselves. O'Sullivan, one of the slide women, undertook to try my authority on the first order which I gave for coal. She sat idly upon her table, and I asked her to bring it up. A scowl came over her face, she hesitated, and then answered,— "She's just as well able to bring up the coal as I." "That's so! that's so!" came from three or four other voices. "Stop! every one! It is the order that Allen is not to bring up coal; you have nothing to say about it." The others were silenced. "O'Sullivan, will you bring up a bucket of coal?" "I'm not going to bring up her coal; she's as well able to fetch it up as I." "You will do just what I tell you! Go now and bring a bucket of coal!" She started, after looking me in the eye a few seconds to see whether she could succeed if she attempted to disobey. "When you come back I will talk with you about it." I must have prompt obedience. I saw that her condition, that of motherhood, required consideration. While she was gone Allen came to me and whispered,— "They never lock up women like her, so she takes the advantage." After she had brought up the coal, and sat down upon the table again, I went along to her, laid my hand upon her shoulder, stooped down, and said softly,— "I see the condition that you are in,—I know that it requires care,—I am a mother,—I will see that you do no more than your part. You will do as I wish in future, pleasantly, will you?" "Yes, ma'am!" I then called them all around me, and said to them,— "The bringing up of the coal for the steam boiler is to be divided among you. I will give each her share of it to do as equally as I can. If any one of you thinks she is doing more than belongs to her, rightfully, make no talk about it, but come directly to me, and I will see that it is made right." My first object was to lead the women to make me the central, regulating power, in the kitchen, so that I could reduce the chaotic state of affairs to something like order. "In a week," I said to the Deputy that day, "I hope to get something like order established." "I will give you a month to get the run of things." "You want the meals well cooked, and promptly passed out at the time; the place kept quiet and clean." "That is what we want." "Be patient, and in a week or two we shall arrive at that." "I shall find no fault till I see occasion." That night, after the work was done, I called them all around me, and told them they would find me kind and pleasant, if they were obedient. If they were not, they would surely find themselves in trouble, because it was a part of my duty to make them obey, and it must be done by the rules of the institution; I could not change them. I saw that their work was hard; but I would make it as easy as possible. The work was there, and they were put there to do it. The more willingly they undertook it, the easier it would go off. If they tried to help themselves, I would help them. They all assented, and thus we made a compact to be kind to each other. IV. A QUARREL, AND DISCIPLINE. It was my third morning in prison. I stood beside the mush boiler with Annie O'Brien, who had been scraping it, and was wiping it out with a dry cloth. McMullins came along, and demanded the cloth from her. An altercation ensued. I hushed the noise, and asked,— "To whom does the cloth belong?" "It is my dish-cloth," said McMullins. "You might let me have it a moment just to wipe this out!" "I want it meself, I'm in hurry for it." "Where is yours?" I asked O'Brien. "I don't know, ma'am. I left it on the boiler, and some one has taken it." She still kept on using McMullins'. "I want my dish-cloth; I'm in hurry," said McMullins, impatiently. "Give her the dish-cloth, and go find your own!" I said. Annie O'Brien's temper was like a lucifer match. At the command she threw the cloth in McMullins's face. Quick as a cat would spring upon a mouse, McMullins was upon her; and the report of the slaps that fell quick, and followed each other fast on the side of O'Brien's face, sounded through the room. It was in vain that I called upon them to stop. O'Brien was enraged. She caught up an iron rod that lay upon the window seat, and struck McMullins a blow upon her forehead that brought blood. I called the other women to the spot, and they were soon parted. I sent McMullins out of the room, took O'Brien, who was white with anger, by the arm, and led her to a seat. "Sit down!" She looked defiance for a moment; then, did as I commanded her. "What kind of behavior is this, Annie O'Brien?" I asked, sternly. "She slapped me in the face—slapped in the face by that low hussy!" The thought added fuel to her rage, and she started up again as though to pursue her. "Be quiet!" She sat down again. I stood silent by her. "She slapped me in the face; by ——, I will not bear it!" She darted past me, and caught up a carving-knife that lay on the table. "She slapped me in the face; and, by ——, I will have her heart's blood!" My heart sickened at the disgusting scene; but my duty was before me. "Stop her, and take the knife away!" I shouted to the women at the other end of the room. In a moment the knife was taken from her, and both of her hands were confined by four of the women. "Annie O'Brien, come here!" I called. She looked at me, but did not stir. I called again, "Annie O'Brien, come here!" She said to the women that held her, "Let me go! I will go to her," and she started towards me. I laid my hand on her pale, cold cheek. "O'Brien, are you not ashamed to get so angry with that poor, foolish, half-crazed McMullins?" "Wouldn't it make your blood boil to have any one slap you in the face?" "Undoubtedly it would rouse my temper for the moment. It is a very mean and wrong thing to strike; but you have behaved no better." "I was a fool; but I could not help it." "Yes, you could. Will you behave yourself now?" "I will do nothing more," and she heaved a deep sigh. "If you have really come to your senses, go about your work!" She returned to her work; but in a moment she called to me,— "You must report me!" "Yes, in my own time." "You must report me now; I must be punished. They will blame you if you put it off." "Would you care if they blamed me, Annie?" "Yes, ma'am, I should. It is bad enough for me to behave so without making you any more trouble." "I wish to see you entirely over your frenzy, perfectly quiet, before I call the Deputy." "I am perfectly quiet," and she went about making her mush. "Annie, if you will promise me to try to control your temper in future, I will try to get your punishment made as light as possible." "I will try to do anything you want me to; but they will put it on to me hard, I've been punished so many times before." I saw that I had possession of her so far as she had control of herself. "Keep about your work as though nothing had happened!" "Yes, ma'am." I went to the door, blew my whistle, and sent for the Deputy. I waited in the entry for him, and stated the case before he went in to punish the women. "McMullins gave the first blow; you know she is a poor, foolish thing; she has fits. You won't punish her this time, will you? She slapped O'Brien in the face, and she struck back. Won't you let them off this time?" "I can't. It won't do." "Wouldn't it make you angry, and wouldn't you strike back if any one struck you in the face?" "Probably I should." "You won't punish her for doing what you would do yourself?" "I must." "If one is punished both must be. The trouble beg...