The State prison at that time was situated in the capital of the State. A collection of old and dilapidated buildings, expressive of the misery and the suffering inside, stood within sight of the capitol—a contrast of two extremes.

The idea of the construction of the buildings was good. There were four wings, each converging into a common center. From this center the guard could see all that took place in the several wings. In the center were the desks of the “P. K.” and the center keeper. The P. K., so called by the men, had general supervision of the entire prison. In his hands was placed the discipline of the entire institution. His was the authority to order all punishment, responsible only to the warden.

At the time when I entered there were[Pg 50] none of the reforms now so common in most of the penal institutions of the country: stripes, the lockup, the clipped head, the “contract system” were in general vogue. There were no privileges to speak of. The prisoner was allowed to write but one letter a month. No newspapers were permitted to enter the institution. Pencils and writing paper were absolutely prohibited on pain of severe punishment. It was like a prison, one could imagine, that came up from the Dark Ages untouched by modern thought or usage.

The cells were of brick covered with the whitewash of many years. In this whitewash much vermin had nesting places, and it was a continual battle between the prisoner and the vermin from the time the former first entered the cell. The cells were about five by seven; the furniture was meager, consisting of an iron cot, a corn-husk mattress and pillow, a table that folded against the wall, and a small wooden stool. For covering, the prisoner was given a blanket. There were no electric lights or toilet conveniences.

[Pg 51]Looking back over my experiences, I can say that the food was on about the average served in similar institutions—sometimes fair, occasionally good, and at other times very bad. It is an impossible task to please all the men in such an institution, an absurd endeavor even to try to please them. Convicts, as a rule, are chronic kickers. Serve them with ham and eggs for any reasonable time, mutterings of discontent would soon follow. Some officials seem to know this, and change the diet of the prisoner frequently. The same food served continuously soon becomes monotonous. Men lose their appetite, discontent poisons their nature, melancholy results, and trouble follows. If a change of food is made at intervals of the year, a better discipline is procured. That, at least, is my experience. If the prisoner is satisfied with his food, a better and more wholesome state of mind results, and, naturally, a better discipline follows.

The punishment as inflicted at this institution was never brutal. During my stay of over ten months I heard of no cuffings-up,[Pg 52] of no water cure, of no severe whippings, and of no manhandlings by the guards. Nevertheless, I found there the best discipline of any like institution I was ever in. As a general rule, the guards were of a little higher caste than the average.

In all such places political or personal pull amounts to a great deal. In this respect I found this institution no exception. This pull enables one to get the “cinch” positions. If one is well known and favorably thought of, it is an easy matter to reach the hospital or to “beat” the contract. Favoritism so practiced is the bane of all such institutions. It engenders the belief in the convict that it isn’t the fact of his crime that counts, but its enormity. He sees the bank-wrecker, convicted of misappropriating the life savings of the poor, come to the prison with a paltry sentence of a few years. Though the sum stolen reaches into the thousands, the sentence is only a third or a fourth of his for a much smaller crime. He sees the big ............