The question of what to do with the prisoner during the period of his confinement has always been a difficult one. The system of leasing the labor of the prisoner to the highest bidder, up to a few years ago, was common in the different States. It was an easy solution to an intricate problem, and the State, looking only at the present, gave its assent to the method. It is a system particularly slavish in its workings, dehumanizing to the men working under it, and the source of most of the brutality found in penal institutions.

In the prison where I was, the contractor paid the large sum of fifty-five cents for the labor of each man per day. This sum included rent, heat, power, and insurance on the building. The product turned out entered into competition with the product of free labor, having the tendency to lower the price of the competing article, and, in turn, lowering the wage of the free laborer. All this is done not for the good of society at large, but for the particular aggrandizement of a few individuals. These individuals, in most cases, come into the State from the outside; they pay no taxes and bring into the State no assets beneficial to the people at large. They engage this contract labor at insignificant prices, and force the product of this labor on the free market. This in itself is unfair to the employer of free labor who brings into the State assets beneficial to all. The latter pays taxes and contributes toward the upkeep of the State. His manufactory attracts laborers who eventually become citizens. His weekly pay roll spreads and makes itself felt among numerous businesses, which in turn also contribute toward the support of the State and city. On the face of it, is it not manifestly unfair to the employer of free men to be forced to compete with the product of the prison contractor?This is only the economic side of the question. The moral side of it is seen in the fact that the system tends to debauch all those who come in contact with it. It dehumanizes the prisoners, leaving them without hope or reward. It hardens the sensibilities of the guards watching over them. Wherever the system is in vogue there will be found brutality rampant. If the prisoner is unable to do his allotted task, punishment is resorted to to force him.

Wardens of all such institutions will tell you that the tasks assigned to the prisoner are much less than the average product of the free laborer, but I have found it universally true that the tasks assigned equal, and in some cases exceed the output of the free man. The prisoner is given thirty days to become proficient in his work. After that time he is expected to do his task each day. For the first lapse he will be warned, for the second a light punishment will be given him. If he continues unable to perform it, some severe punishment is meted out to him. For instance, I have seen a prisoner strung up by his thumbs for the noncompletion of the task, and left this way for a period of three hours. Can you imagine the feelings of this man toward society and the State after going through this experience?

The prison in which I spent my last confinement was unique among contract-labor prisons. In this one the prisoner was at least given a chance to earn a little money for his own use. Not all, but there were a few among the many who were able, by heartrending toil, to do a little over their daily task. For this overwork the prisoner was paid by the contractor at the prevailing rates, fifty-five cents a task. The amount of money earned by the man would average about three dollars a month. Of course a great many of the men would earn absolutely nothing. A few earned a sum exceeding the average. This same overwork money has been the stumbling-block to the institution of any reforms in this same prison. Any criticism leveled at the institution itself or the system in vogue at the prison, would be met by bringing forth these same overtime earnings. The sum in the aggregate appeared large, but to one wise in the law of averages the amount shown but proved its insignificance. From the books of this same institution it has been shown that the average amount taken out by the men discharged has been under two dollars. What a munificent sum with which to begin a new life!

I believe it is Emerson who says “that every institution is but the lengthened shadow of a single man.” This prison proved the assertion of the sage. I shall call the warden Thomas, for that is as far from his real name as any I can think of. His later years have been touched by a great deal of sorrow, and I am not inclined to burden his remaining days with a constant repetition of his shortcomings. I have mentioned the fact before that he was possessed of an executive ability of a high order. The institution was run like clockwork. Like cogs well turned to an exact fit, every wheel of the prison worked without jar or lost motion. He was distant from both the guard and the prisoner. His every effort was bent to the turning over to the State of a surplus, which he did yearly. The food served to the inmates was of a type both poor in quality and deficient in quantity. I have come away from the table on many occasions hungry. The washing of our clothes was never rightly done. The warden knew the soap cost money. We were allowed two ounces of soap for ourselves once a month; if that were not sufficient for our use, of course we had the privilege of buying it ourselves. Imagine two ounces of soap lasting a man a month?

Gladstone said that he could tell the civilization of a nation by the amount of soap its inhabitants used. Imagine yourself the civilization made possible by this warden.

The State was supposed to clothe the men in its prisons. In this one, however, most of the men clothed themselves. Outside of the suit of stripes it was usual for all of us to provide for our own wearing apparel. We also paid for our shaves and haircuts. We could have worn the ill-smelling clothes the State handed out to us if we had desired. But payment for our haircut was absolutely imperative. If we failed to pay, we went shorn of hirsute adornment. Of course all of this went toward adding to the yearly surplus of the warden.

Another instance of the viciousness of the contract system was that it kept the prisoner confined long after his sentence expired. There were a certain number of days allowed off a sentence for good behavior. Each prisoner was an asset to the contractor. It was a question of dollars and cents with him. If the man nearing the completion of the sentence happened to fall short of his task or to transgress one of the many rules of the institution, time would be added to his sentence. That is, a part of his good time. In my confinement of over seven years I found it a rare occasion for any man to be turned out at the completion of his good time. Of course this but put into the minds of the prisoners the thought that the prison was run for the special benefit of the prison contractor. I know absolutely that a contractor asked the warden to hold a certain man beyond his good time, and the warden did it. You may say that such an instance would not happen with every warden. It is not the fact that it happens that makes the system so outrageous, but the fact that it can happen.

The physician of this prison for seventeen years had trouble with the warden about excusing men unable to perform their work. The warden wanted them in their shops; he said that what they needed was not so much a doctor as a club. The physician, supposing that he knew his calling, disagreed with the warden and brought the matter to the attention of the Board of Directors. The Board sided with the warden, and the physician lost his place. This man then went before the State medical board and charged the warden with no less than murder. The press of the State, instead of demanding an investigation, almost without exception characterized the charge as absurd. They charged, and perhaps charged rightly, that if such abuses existed in a prison in the time of this incumbency, it was his duty to begin to inform the people at that time, not to wait till he had been ousted from his place, to begin. Some few months after this incident a man was appointed as guard from one of the southern counties. On his first day of work he was directed by the warden to string up a prisoner for some minor infraction of the rules. He refused. Another guard willingly did the work, the former guard witnessing the punishment. The sight of the brutality so sickened him that he then and there handed in his resignation. He informed one of the papers of the city in which the prison was situated, and this paper began a quiet investigation of the fact. Numerous discharged prisoners told of their experiences, former guards supplemented this testimony. The press of the State took notice, some of them demanding an investigation from the governor. In the meantime the Board of Directors of the prison met and exonerated the warden of all the charges laid against him. Finally the governor did appoint a commission to investigate and they began work immediately. This committee found the warden guilty of petty grafting, of brutal treatment of the prisoners under him, and recommended the abolition of the contract-labor system. A few months before the rendering of this verdict the warden resigned.