Strict Discipline of Prison Officers
I have served under three governors, each of whom was an intelligent and conspicuously humane man. They knew their prisoners and tried to understand them, but there is not much a governor can do for them of his own initiative. I consider that he who holds this responsible position should have more of a free hand, and be allowed to use his discretion in all ordinary matters pertaining to the prison discipline and welfare of the prisoners.
They were all advanced disciplinarians. The routine reeled itself off with mechanical precision. The rules were enforced and carried out to the letter. The deadly monotony never varied; all days are alike; weeks, months, years slowly accumulate, and, in the mean time, the mental rust is eating into the weary brain, and the outspoken cry rises up daily—“How long, O Lord! how long?”
The officers are almost as keen as the governor in their efforts to keep things up to the mark. It is seldom they allow prisoners under their observation or supervision any slight relaxation which nature may demand, but the rules forbid. They dislike to punish a woman, and in their hearts make many excuses for the black sheep.