The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1871-12-08
Prison Barbarities.
LIFE IN THE INDIANA STATE PRISON.
A correspondent of the Cincinnati Com


A correspondent of the Cincinnati Com
naercial writes from Indianapolis:
Within the last three years a man has been
IN the State prison, South, of Indiana, who
improved the opportunity by writing book
with the above title. 1t has just been pub
llshed in Cincinnati. The treatment of the
subject is entirely novel, and the skillful exc
cution would do credit to Mast. BY most
unusual and inexplicable modesty, the artist
desires his name withheld. He is doctor of
medicine by profession, and he has a silly fear
that should his skill become known, it would
mllltate against his success as a Galen. This
singular genius lives in st. Louis, and should
he not succeed in his beloved profession he
has an untailing resource in his pencil. There
are sixty OF these wood cuts, both small and
great, and they of themselves tell the story of
State prison life, by one who has been there.
The story is written by j. Ii. Banks, who,
according to his own biography, was brought
up in Christian New England home, used
to good society, and blessed with more than
ordinary talent, and liberal education; coming
West he became involved in difficulty that's
always the mild way criminals have of speak
ing,) which finally resulted in his being sem
fenced to the State prison for three years.
Banks first day in prison was a hard one,
and with rare powers of observation he SEEM
ed to take in every detail of the prison build
ings; the routine of misery was famil iarized
to him by degrees. A fine wood cut of the
prison accompanies this chapter, but that
does not give any idea of the interior as de-
scribed by the author. 1t is with the life of
punishment and wrong that the author has to
deal, and in chapters entitled ''Shops and
Guard" ga Drunken Warden" "Outrages
in the Female Department" "a Chapter of
Horrors" he has succeeded in delineating
some of the most horrible scenes that have
ever seen the light They are described, too,
xvith a y-iyi nd avid eli ifNrr
makes them thrilling to the last degree. The
reader drops the book aghast, and asks him
self, can such crimes exist in this Christian
country?
Among the horrible instances quoted in
prison life l may cite that of poor, one-leg-
ged soldier, upwards of fifty years of age, and
shaking with the palsy. For some minor Of
| fense he had been sent from Park county to
| prison for two years. Upon his arrival he
was assigned to the collar shop, and required
| to do the regular days work. He had hardly
recovered from the operation on his leg, and
was very feeble. In addition to his other all
ments he was subject to severe attacks of
heart disease.
On the morning of which we write he was
In deplorable condition. The diet and work
had reduced him to almost nothing. and the
pitiful stump of his wounded leg was raw and
bleeding. The fact that he had been reduced
to misery and helplessness in defense of his
country failed to ameliorate his condition
here.
"Come, move on" said the brutal steward.
showing him with his foot.
The old man hobbled off to his shop and Law
down on bunch of straw. Soon the guard
came along.
"Well, sir, didn't make it, ehp' Meaning
that he had failed to be excused by the doc.
work. '-
u am sick, and my leg is sore and bleed
ing. can't work.
Cant you? Doctor sent you to the shop
and you must work. Get out of that now. or
III take you to the Office and have YOU skim
ned all over" This was a favorite threat
among the guard at that time.
The old man crawled out of the straw and
worked for an hour or so, when he accosted
the guard in despair:
81 cannot stand,'i said he, s'for Gods sake
just let me lie down ON the floor, perhaps /
will get better.'
''No, sir; keep at work. You can't play off
on me-"
He worked for a few moments more. and
sank down completely exhausted, when his
shopmates lifted him over on the straw
again. At night he was just able to get to
his cell.
81 am dying" said the old man; ''can't YOU
leave my cell door open?'
''Die and be d--dp' exclaimed the guard,
oiniAhliii5 ohC uOOI Ill HIS lace anu throwing
the bolt.
No one knows how he died.
In character with this is the horrible story
OF man who was crazed, and chained, and
bagged, and starved to death. This furnishes
subject for four of the most graphic illustra-
tions: ''In the Straight Jacket" BRUTAL
Guard" the prisoner felled to the floor;
Target Practice" his futile effort to escape
and 'Chained to an Anvil'' in the cell house
where because he moved restlessly from side
to side like the poor wild beast that he had
become, he was sewed up in bag and starv-
ed. Sometimes for two days he would have
nothing but water, then some bits of corn
bread would be thrown him as to wild ami
NAL, and like famished beast he would Crap
pie up the fragments and eat them. 1t was
strange how long he lasted. There he would
stand at his cell door, his skinny fingers
grasping the bars, and his hungry eye glitter
ing like cold steel. He grey to be mere
skeleton. ''Nothing but skin and bones,'
| the boys would say as they passed and glanced
at him.
One morning, about seven weeks after they
locked him up, the night guard noticed that
Pat lay very still and stiff, and peering into
the cell he shouted TO him. No groan came
from that still beast. His eyes did not grow
wild any more-only CLASSY stare. Pat Ma