Four “cons” were involved in that crime, Hoffman, Smith, Hall and Ashton. Before they had served their time they were indicted and afterwards put on trial in Philadelphia for counterfeiting. Smith and Ashton pleaded guilty and received a suspended sentence and have been living straight ever since. Hoffman and Hall were released on their own recognizance, but having broken their promise to keep out of crime, were re-arrested and are now serving time for the crime of counterfeiting.
CHAPTER XXVIII
SCENES DURING VISITING HOURS IN THE TOMBS
The Tombs Prison is in the nature of a detention barracks, where persons awaiting trial are kept for a season, and where one-half are discharged for lack of evidence and other legal loopholes through which men and women slip to freedom. Here prisoners are permitted to see their friends every day of the week, except Sundays and legal holidays. At the present time when the Tombs contains about 400-500 state and federal prisoners, it can be readily seen that one-half of the inmates are visited daily, which would average a thousand visitors a week.
What a Babel of tongues operate here from every part of the world! What scenes may be witnessed during the visiting hours! Here may be found wives and mothers, fathers, brothers, children and friends all in tears!
Sometimes as many as eight to ten different nationalities are found speaking their own peculiar language on one tier of forty prisoners,—English, German, French, Spanish, Russ, Bohemian, Scandinavian, Polish and even Chinese.
With their arms stretched out through the bars, taking hold of each other in the anguish of a death bed scene, they kiss each other, weep and groan over one another and frequently become hysterical. And these scenes continue during the entire visiting hour, and when the gong rings for the recess, they are so loath to depart that often the keepers have to drag them from each other. As the wives, mothers, children and friends pass along the corridors toward the gate, you can see their eyes still full of tears and red with weeping.
These scenes, which are unspeakably pathetic, are almost daily witnessed in the New York Tombs. Here, for example, is an aged mother at a cell door, whose heart is wrung with anguish over the downfall of a son. She holds his hand while the tears trickle down her kindly, motherly face. Oh, how sad that the innocent have to suffer because of the wrong doing of others, that human love and sympathy are so interwoven that the crime of one individual causes many to sorrow, and renders life burdensome! At the cell of a man charged with murder stands his sorrowing wife and three children. Their plain and faded garments indicate poverty. The pinched and careworn face of the wife tells of the terrible struggle for a livelihood she is making because deprived of her husband’s help. The chances are that both she and her children will become inmates of the almshouse or some charitable institution. The prisoner apparently fully realizes the gravity of his position and seeks to comfort his wife and caress into cheerfulness his unfortunate children. The evidence against the prisoner, however, is so positive and convincing that he will be electrocuted. He realizes this but conceals from his wife his feelings, and assures her that he will be acquitted. She becomes hopeful and with a kiss and a smile on her tearful face, departs. Picture if you can the scene in the home of this murderer when the news of his conviction is received, the wringing of hands, the moans of anguish, the appeals to God, and the frenzied outcry of inconsolable grief! The innocent suffering because of the guilt of another. Home broken up, mother and children separated, the looks askance of the neighbors, the world’s frown, and a heritage of shame and woe for mother and children!
At another cell door stands a father silently weeping, while the guilty son tries to comfort him with asservations of innocence, but the father does not believe him; he knows his boy is guilty; he knows that for years he has been dishonest and intemperate, and has at last reached the end of his wayward career. The father reminds the son of the earnest warnings, the wise advice, the prayers and the tears of his dear mother. The son pleads for forgiveness and renewed efforts in his behalf. The father gently, lovingly, yet firmly says, “My son, you are guilty. My respect for the law is so powerful that I must uphold it, though it means the imprisonment of my only son. Had this been your only offence to my knowledge, I would do my utmost to secure your release. I have shielded you several times to my sorrow. Had you been imprisoned for your first offence, you would not perhaps be where you are to-day; you might have reformed and been a great comfort to your good mother and myself.” To some extent this father was right, even if he did take a stand contrary to that taken by most men whose sons have violated the law. I do not believe in sending any man to prison who demonstrates his fitness for freedom. If prisons reclaimed and uplifted men and women I would say otherwise, but they do not. I believe that seventy-five out of every hundred leave prison worse than when they entered.
One day my attention was called to a young woman who was silently weeping by a cell door. She was richly attired, and very much of a lady in appearance, and could not be more than twenty years of age. I became interested and on inquiring learned that she was a bride of only a few weeks. She had been wooed and won by a handsome, talented, clever rascal under false pretensions. He had spent a number of months in a Massachusetts town, where his faithful attendance at church and earnest prayers and eloquent exhortations had gained him the confidence of the leading people of the place. At a sociable he had formed the young lady’s acquaintance and by his ingratiating ways, scholarly address and earnest protestations of affection, soon induced her to consent to marry him. Her parents at first stoutly protested, but yielded to the importunities of the much loved daughter. A brilliant wedding was the result, with guests from New York and all parts of New England. To the bride the father gave $10,000 as a wedding gift. A trip to Montreal, where the wily rascal obtained control of the money, terminated her dream of a happy married life. In three days he had gambled away the entire sum. To New York city they then journeyed, where at one of the leading hotels the rascal passed a worthless check, which led to his apprehension and confinement in the Tombs to await the action of the grand jury. Earnest petitions to the bride’s father were stubbornly and wisely denied. A careful investigation established the fact that the rascal who had so cruelly and unpardonably deceived the estimable young lady, had been an inmate of four prisons, and was one of the most notorious criminals in the country. It furthermore became known that at the time he was in Massachusetts, he was wanted in St. Louis for defrauding an Insurance Company to the extent of five thousand dollars. He was hiding in a quiet Massachusetts town and improved the time in winning for a bride the daughter of one of the most influential and aristocratic families in old New England. He was sent to Sing Sing Prison for several years, and the wife well nigh brokenhearted and bowed to the dust in humiliation, returned to her parents a sadder and a wiser woman. A divorce was the result.