Mr. T. B. Patton, Superintendent of the Industrial Reformatory, Huntingdon, Pa., presented the report of the Committee on Prevention and Reformatory Work; and Mrs. Frances A. Morton, Superintendent of the Reformatory Prison for Women, South Framingham, Mass., spoke on “Outdoor Employment for Women Prisoners,” describing especially the various forms of outdoor work in her own institution.
AFTERNOON SESSION
“Prison Discipline,” especially in reformatories, was the subject of a most interesting address by Mr. J. A. Leonard, Superintendent of the State Reformatory, Mansfield, Ohio.
“I wish to speak on discipline for certain exceptional types in our reformatory prisons. I would first consider the trusty. There have been trusties ever since there have been prisons. In our own work I had in mind to employ a great many young men committed to the reformatory in a trusted capacity—not to make them informers, not to make them a bulwark of safety to the institution, not to pamper them, not to make them envied by the other prisoners, but because the dictum to treat all prisoners alike is fallacious. All prisoners under certain given conditions should be treated alike. The even hand of justice is needed in a prison above any place else. But there are men sent to reformatories who would stay there if there was not a lock on the prison. I think fifty per cent. of the men sent to the Ohio State Reformatory would prove to be self-governing as to the matter of custody. It is to their interest to be so.
“In setting aside those who are trusties we appeal to intelligence and thoughtfulness. What has been the result? We had six hundred acres of land to farm, first as an economic proposition, and second as an agency for training. Originally our farm was a burden upon the institution, because all the farming was done under an armed guard. It was quite a spectacle for men to go along our public highways and see a boy, a convict, so-called, plowing corn with an $840 man following him with a gun. It made expensive corn and was a shock to public sense. What could we do about this matter? To make the farm profitable, economically and valuable industrially, it was necessary to employ in this outside work a large number of men. I believed it possible to find young men who would go out and work faithfully without a great degree of restraint. I wanted to make the test and we put out fifteen men without an armed guard. Three ran away. That was not a comfortable experience. I put out thirty and five ran away. I put out sixty and four ran away. Last year we had on an average one hundred and fifty men outside unrestrained by any physical force, and we did not lose a man. What produced this change? A change in human nature? Not at all. We simply gave free play to an idea and the sentiment within the institution underwent a change. Three men out of the one hundred and fifty tried to get away. Two of them conspired together, one running this way and one that way. The officer was fleet-footed and captured one of them. (By the way, I have come to employ officers because they can run fast rather than because of their ability to shoot straight.) This officer caught one and supposed that the other had gotten away, but when he came up over the hills by the roadside he found him. He was on the ground; a fellow-prisoner was sitting on him and saying to him: ‘You lie still. We are not knocking you; we are saving you trouble. You know you will be caught. We are doing you good, but that is not why we are holding you. You are knocking the system that the superintendent is trying to start here to give us a fair show, and we will not stand for it.’ Public opinion in the institution is what made that possible. How do we bring it about? Public opinion within the institution is largely influenced by our practical school of ethics. This school had discussed at great length this trusty system and had given full support to the idea. Discipline will not do it.
“The number trusted is growing larger and larger each year. We select them very carefully. I take a boy out quietly in the evening and have a talk with him. I ask him if he will voluntarily assume that responsibility. If he agrees, I produce a bond, one that has been prepared with some red ink, red ribbon and red seals and burdened with all the meaningless expressions that our legal brethren have burdened us with. At the bottom of it there are two clauses of plain English that the boy is supposed to understand. There is nothing like being impressive as he signs the bond. I say to him: ‘Now here is the place for your surety. Where are you going to get it?’ He replies, ‘I believe my folks will give it.’ ‘That cannot be done, my boy. This is an honor bond.’ Then, ‘I will do it,’ I tell him. ‘I will be your first friend and stand for you with the deputy.’
“I have signed ten hundred and eighteen of those bonds and only five have been dishonored. That experiment has been worth a great deal more than it costs. It costs some anxiety. Next year I expect to put out about two hundred men if I live. I shall put out more and more each year and I shall expect this good record to continue, simply because the fellows inside are standing for it and even in their language they distinguish. The fellow who scales the walls gets the applause that always goes with the deed of daring, but the fellow who goes out after signing a bond with the superintendent’s name to it, ‘takes a sneak,’ and when he is brought back he is made to feel it.
“Those trusties are never informers with us. We have never let them inform us. The other boys have no prejudices against them. They want to be with them, but I keep them as far separated as possible. If I were building a new reformatory the ground plan would look like a spider’s web and I would have a detached cottage for those who have proven their trustworthiness.
“The second exceptional class calling for special discipline is the bankrupt. You men who have to deal with the indeterminate sentence know that no board of managers or set of men can make rules that will meet the peculiar needs of individual cases. You and I know that in every prison there are boys who cannot gain eligibility for parole under rules made for the average, notwithstanding the fact that they are not guilty of serious offenses, nor are they regarded as malicious or dangerous. They become bankrupt because of the accumulation of demerits for this thing and that. What are we going to do? If I excuse those reports it becomes a personal favor, which is wrong and leads to bad feeling. I asked myself the question: ‘What has society in all time done to meet such cases? What is done in the economic world?’ I recently read an article which said that sixty per cent. of the successful merchants were bankrupt some time in their life. If a man who has carried on a business comes into court with clean hands he is given the benefit of bankruptcy; his obligations are canceled and a new opportunity is afforded him. I asked myself the question, ‘Why can we not have something of like character here?’ So I instituted a bankruptcy court. Our general disciplinarian holds court on all offenses and fixes penalties under the general rules. There is, however, a right of appeal, first to the superintendent, and finally to the president of the Board of Managers. Why then another court? I wanted a court which would be free from any prejudice on account of the boys’ record, so I selected the assistant superintendent, who, while charged with the discipline in a general way, does not pass upon the original offenses, and then the chaplain, who has no embarrassing relations at all as to discipline. With these two officers we instituted a court in which were represented both the law and the gospel. The Board of Managers heartily approved the innovation. The rules governing that court are as follows:
“Any inmate, who because of misconduct has lost so much time as to render the prospects of his parole extremely remote, and who, in good faith, has resolved to establish a good record in the institution, may make written application to the superintendent for an exercise of clemency that may come within the superintendent’s discretion under the rules of the institution.
“If the party making the appeal for clemency has a clear record for thirty days next preceding the date of the application, the appeal will be referred to the Bankruptcy Court, consisting of the assistant superintendent and the chaplain, who will give the applicant a hearing, carefully review his case, and make a report of their findings to the superintendent. In case the appeal is granted, the applicant will be placed in the second grade under the same conditions as apply to inmates on first entering the institution, and his consideration for parole will not be prejudiced by his previous record.
“Any inmate who shall have served one year in the second grade, and who has failed of promotion to the first grade because of minor acts of omission or commission, may make written appeal to the superintendent for promotion to the first grade, and his case will be dealt with in like manner and on like conditions as stated above. The superintendent will not remit time lost or make special promotions except in the manner above indicated.