Rensselaer Republican, Volume 23, Number 7, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 October 1890 — AN INDIANA PRISON. [ARTICLE]

AN INDIANA PRISON.

STRANGE AND SILENT LANGUAGE OF THE MEN IN STRIPES. Bxtiaonlinu; liflaeiM Which the Hope of Portion Ha* Upon Every ConvictGood Time Serves a Similar Purpose— Some of the Carton* Cases tn the Prison Indianapolis News. * A trip through the [State’s Prison, North, a sight of shaved heads and pale faces, and slouchy forms in ill fitting striped clothing ought to make a man feel that nothing can-induce him to break the lawß of the land, yet in the Prison Nortfi are criminals who have served term after term. The prisoners work on the contract system. The shoes they make are by contract —and by the way here is the only shoe shop where a leather sole is put on a rubber boot successfully; the chairs are as well made as any in the country; good substantial barrels are built by convict coopers, and every branch of the woolen business from heeling a sock to making a blanket is done by laborers in stripes. The prisoners have tasks allotted them, and when done they are allowed pay for overs time, and this pay is their own; For instance, in the Cooper shop eleven barrels is a day’s work; John Underwood, during August, made $lO for overtime, and this he sent to his brother. Some of the men allow the prison authorities to keep their extra money until they are released; others spend it for luxuries, and still others send it to ouside friends to pay lawyers’ fees. The discipline is very strict. The prisoners are not permitted to converse with each other; they can not leave the spot on which they are working for a drink of water or anything ' else except by permission of the guard this permission being secured by raising the hand as a child attracts the attention of his teacher in school. Under the law a prisoner is allowed "good time,” which is a reduction of sentence if he is a good prisoner; but if he violates the rules he loses his ‘-‘goodtime” and may be put into the "dungeon.” There are no easy chairs and sofa lounges in the dungeon. Nothing but hard stone, r.r.d instead of oysters _ ftnd Little Neck _ clamß, To bewashed down with champagne, the prisoner receives cold water and hard bread until he gives up and is willing to work. The most refractory don’t stay in the dungeon very long. Lon Barrett, the counterfeiter, sent up for five years by Judge Woods, refused to work and was placed in the dungeon. He remained in the" dark hole for some time, when he was brought to this city to testify against Rinehimer. When he was taken back he didn’t want any more dungeon and gladly went to work. He is now 4, model prisoner. The hope of pardon helps to keep down a revolt. Not a prisoner but has some friend on ■the outside who is interested in him, and who is trying to securo executive clemency in his behalf. Should he revolt or infringe the prison rules all hope of pardon is gone, and the good time allowed him is lost. Therefore it is only desperate criminals, with long terms to serve, who ever make an attempt to "beat the prison.” Inside the walls the guards, ushers and attendants carry no weapons except heavy canes. So should the prisoners make a rush and disarm the guards they wjould secure no deadly weapons, and besides it prevents a hot-headed guard from injuring a convict when a milder punishment will serve the purpose. Chicago is the Mecca toward which all "escapes” make their way, and the police of that city generally pick them up. There has not been an escape ior a long time—the/last one being the desperate attempt of Charles Havens and Frank Whiting, two desperodoes sent up from this city in 1885 on a fourteen sentence for assault and battery with intent to kill.

CAPTURING A TRAIN. Tho two men were working in the third story of the old shoe shop. In front of the building is located the railroad tracks, and through an opening in the wall an engine comes every morning at 10 o’clock to pull out the loaded cars and haul in cars to be loaded at the various shops. The plot to escape was laid by Whiting. One morning, armed with the small, sharp knives used at their work, the two desperadoes dashed through the door and down the stairway on the outside of the building. They had boarded the engine which was in charge of only the fireman, and he jumped for his life. Havens grasped the throttle and turned on the steam with such force £hat the wheels spun around like lightning and it was two or three second s before the locomotive moved forward, pftiis gave the guards time to recover, and as the engine passed through 'the Opening one of the guards on the wall above discharged both barrels of his <run, loaded with buckshot and slugs, nto the cab. Whiting was instantly . killed and Havens so severely wounded that he was soon recaptured. When die had recovered he was brought to (this city as a witness, and was identified as the murderer of a street car driver. When his fourteen years has expired he will be rearrested on a charge of murder. AN UNWRITTEN LANGUAGE. The convicts are not allowed to talk with each other, yet they have a language of signs so that they can make .themselves understood, and when the guard is not too near they do not hesitate to whisper. The prison authori- j ties have never been able to learn this | unwritten alphabet sod have about given up trying. "We let them have the daily papers to read,” said Charley Murdock, Prison Clerk. “We might as well, because they find out everything that is going on, anyhow.” An ex-convict told the writer that a prisoner is not in a great while until

he learns that wearing a cap A-certain way means something, a rolled-up sleeve, an unbuttoned shirt, an, unlaced shoe, a [hundred little signs all have their significance, and the prisoners can talk freely, though under the eyes of a dozen guards. ... DINNER AND THE LOCK STEP. The prisoners eat dinner at 11:45 o’clock. At the sound of the steam whistle the men in the various shops stop work and form in line and at successive signals each lot of men walks to the dining room "onthe lock step.” In the dining room are long tables reaching the entire length of the room and each shop has its own place. When all the prisoners are standing at the tables, a signal is given and they seat themselves. Each prisoner carries a knife, fork and spoon in tho pocket of his blouse, and these are produced. There is a rattle and clatter and the meal begins. Guards are star tioned throughout the room, and Chief Deputy Warden Donnelly sits in a raised box on the north side where he has a view of the entire room. So familiar with the men are the guards that shpuld one of them be out of his place or act peculiarly he is detected at once and carefully watched. The menu consists of bread, meat, vegetables, coffee, soup, and once in a while delicacies. After dinner lines are formed, and back the men go to work "on lock step.” After supper tehy are taken to the cell houses and locked us). The cells are small narrow holes, with white washed walls. Each is lighted with electricity and the prisoner can put out his light at any time, but at 9 o’clock all lights must be extinguished. Some of the prisoners sit in their cell and read, others sew, write letters, and some who are expert with a knife whittle toothpicks andiancy ornaments from beef bones which they sell to visitors. There are others who pace their cells like animals in a cage, restless longing for liberty. In the cells, too, the "unwritten language,” a sort of telegrapic code of signals is used, even the flashing of the electric light having its meaning. At nine o’clock a -guard passes through the cellhouse and finds out if each convict is in his coll and then locks him up. There have been instances when a dummy was discovered on the convict’s bed and the convict himself gone. CONVICTS AT SCHOOL. Imagine the juvenile class in the primary grade of our public schools. Take from the desks the curly-haired girls and laughing-eyed boys, and in their stead seat hard-faced men with close-cropped hair and striped suits, and you have a mental picture of the night school at the prison North. The apartment is fitted up like a school room with desks, blackboards, charts and everything to be found in the first grades of schools. The pupils are divided into classes, and it looked strange to see a man serving a hue sentence for murder, a ten year man for burglary and two horse thieves stand up and painfully labor over their pi itaers like children trying to repeat their a, b, c. Many of the men sent to prison cannot read or write, and if they are good prisoners and so desire, they are taught the rudiments and soma have even educated themselves in the higher branches and become conversant with Greek and Latin. The night school at present has fifty scholars, from twenty-one to fifty years of age, who have committed every crime in the decalogue. Some of the classes db simple sums in arithmetic, others take writing lessons and all seem proud of their work. It is a perfect school and when the writer complimented a tough looking darkey (serving fourteen years for a terrible crime) on his neat writing, the fellow .grinned very wide. The others held up their slates for inspection, the old murderer wearing glasses gleefully remarking that he is able to do sums in long division. Beside its benefits the school is a relief from the monotony of prison life, and it helps to keep out the thoughts of other days. "We try,” said Clerk Murdock, "to treat the prisoners like human beings and along with the punishment they have brought upon themselves we endeavor to give them some of the benefits of a State institution. If they are not benefited it is their own fault.” SOME OF THE PRISONERS. There are 750 convicts in the Prison North at this time, and of the number fifty-eight are "lifers.” There are three prisoners in solitary confinement; one has not spoken for months, another is so violeafc*Jjhat visitors are not allowed to see him, and the other is a harmless fellow, continually shaking his head and muttering to himself. The .three are insane, One of the characters about the place is William Robinson, or "Old Bob,” as he is called. He was sent from Wayne county for murder in 1857 and was transferred from the Southern Prison when the Northern penitentiary was built; in fact, he helped to erect the walls. He has no other home and wants none* He would not accept a pardon if offered him, and once when by accident he was obliged to remain I outside the prison walls over night he was nearly heart broken. He roams about as he pleases, and Is a great hunter. A dog owned by him he fairly idolizes and would not sell for fifty tousand dollars; if he had that much money he would’t know what to do with it, and so he prefers the dog, for there is a wonderful bond of friendship between the canine and old Bob. He lcoks upon the‘prißon as his personal property Ehd is very jealous of its management. Another character is Pick Webster, sent up from Fort Wayne in 1865 for life. An Italian family was murdered and their bodies burned. Webster was foreman of the coroner’s jury that investigated the crime, and evidence was adduced that caused him to be sus-

pected. His arrest followed, and after 'nnmerous legal battles he escaped the gallows. Every Governor has been petitioned to release him, but he ha 9 been kept in prison through the influence "of one man, Civil Service Commissioner Edgerton, who was largely instrumental in securing his con vie, tion.