The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1889-01-04
TIE WORST MAN IN JAIL.
strange Episode in the Experience OF
an English Prison Chaplain.
From. the Chambers Journal.

Eng Il4oSA O--SAIS-O~@'
From, the Chambers Journal.
7, ia about the ''bad man" of the prison
am writing this sketch. l found his name
- The prigon register after this fashion:
..Mrrton Joseph No. 263 Wing D. Tier 4"
.nd onnosite the entry i'll the book was the
word ..Incorrigible" in large red INK letters.
Thare had been other men similarly lndexed,
TcouId see by the red affixeS to their
aon,es hut all of them had passed out to
Thor prisons or to the busy world again.
Josenh Murton, strange to say, was the
OuIv incorrigible according to the books in
the institution. -, IT.,
kaaneTs feared him, the governor hated
him he was continually in hot water, and
as often in as out of the dark cell. He had
~ eogqed more than once for insubordl-
netion and. as far as could be judged, was
prison Ishmael And yet there were
some soft spots in his heart-the hospital
orderlies knew that, for once or twice, when
ba bed been ill and thrown into contact
18th sufferers sicker than himself, his gen.
tleness and patience knew no bounds. The
choicest morsels of his rough food were
ALWAYS laid aside for them; his voice as ne
road aloud to them was actually musical,
aud through the long night vigils
he was the watcher who sat and
wbisnered soothing words or moist
ened lips that had grown hard and
dry with suffering His cell was a model
of neatness: not a mark could be detected
on its snowy walls; no bed was ever so
neatly folded as his. no tins so brightly
secured In person ne was scrupulously
clean. and seemed to take pride in the re-
spectability of his appearance. In the
workshop-hew was broommaker-his work
was generally performed more neatly
and more quickly than by any of his gang,
ON one occasion, when keeper had been
terribly wounded and well nigh killed by a
mob Of mutinOus prisoners, Murton had
stood boldly upin defense Of the officer, and
had been severely wounded for his pains. In
spite of many such good qualities, his I'M
certain temper, Respondent moods and
blind. nureasoning ferccity kept him in
perpetual trouble, and at the time | write
of he was certainly the chad man" of the
prison. Now, it was fit OF sullen, perverse
obstinacy; now, a fiat refusal to perform
his work room task; again, a refusal to
obey some simple rute, at other times cheer
fully obeyed, and stln again a savage at
tack upon fellow prisoner or keeper. He
was a strange creature, Joseph Murton,
with strange history, as you shall hear.
was informed one morning by the libra
rian, also prisoner, that man was to be
fogged that day for an assault upon one OF
the officers l have already confessed that
| was young, and curious desire to wit
ness such a scene, although clearly no part
of my duty, came over me. To acquaint
the governor Of my desire was but matter
of form, and 10 minutes before the big bell
tolled IL O'Clock l was in the courtyard,
where the triangleS used for Whippings were
already raised. Five minutes later the
prisoners were marched in to the goose-step,
and shutting along with furtive glances,
took their places, forming three sides Of q
4.II o,.I -
presence there was not only for examples
sake, but in order that there might be no
feeling in their minds as to excess Of pun
ishment. The keepers, in full force and
heavily armed, were, of course, present,
and as the clock struck the governor and
surgeon appeared. Two of the keepers
both old soldiers and adopts in the use of
the cat" stepped up 20 the triangles
with their torturIug little Instruments /;
and next moment, stripped to the waist,
but with coat thrown loosely over his
shoulders came the victim, Joseph Murton.
Where was his boosted strength, ill-temper,
mad ferocity! He walked as gently as
child, and half smile fckered on his lips
as he held his hands out to be bound. l am
not going to describe that mornings work,
as | still remember it. 1t was the only
fogging ever saw, and wish | had never
seen it, for even now it makes me shudder
to recall it, A hundred lgshes was the SEQ
tence, and 100 lasheS means 100000 tor
lures to the flesh and agony to the soul Of
any man. But Joseph Murton took his fog
ging without murmur or groan although
his face grew deadly white and his lips were
bitten till they bled. He laughed-yes, he
actually laughed out loud when he was I'M
tied, and put on his coat himself, although
hardly able to move, 80 bruised and LAGER
ated was his back; but as he passed the
keeper who had reported him and caused
his stripes there came an angry CLEAN into
his eyes and a culver into his nostrils that
spoke no good; and it was well on all sides
that ne was hurried away before further
mischief was done, for the devil in the man
was reused and knew no cringing. He was
sent TO the hospital to have his wound ;
healed, and it was there | first made his &C
qusintance.
made point of visiting all the Protest
ant prisoners regularly in their cells. Once,
when he had evidently heard my voice in
his neighborhood and expected a visit,
found neat paper notice hanging on his
bars with the following inscription: "Cell
No. 263-4th September, 18-. Book ped
lars, insurance agents, clergymen and other
nulsances not needed to-day
There was something about this man.
however, that lnstinctively drew one to
him, for felt sure that in spite of all ap-
pearances there was good in him. The day
after he had been logged saw him in the
hospital 1t was Sunday; and had held
orlef service with the sufferers, and at the
close presented each with tract, accord
ing 10 my usual custom. II was this, when
came 10 him that called forth the
angry words l have quoted at the
commencement of this story. 1t took
many long day to soften that hard heart
put at last won his confidence. Little by
Ettle came to know more of the man, and
FOUND beneath the rough and rude exterior
deep feeling and a broken heart, that ac-
counted for the recklessness otherwise hard
70 understand. In fact, despair was gnaw-
ing at his heart, and the daylight Of his life
hao been quenched forever. He got to trust
me sufficiently by-and-by to tell me his
story; and here it is:
THE CoNvICT'S STORY.
ldont see much use, parson, in troubling
you WIN my story; it isn't a long one, and
.neIes nothing interesting in it for anyone
W near, God knows. know l am young
man and don't doubt but you fancy |
snould be doing better than wasting my
slme IN prison; but the fact is, parson, I
S Iun care what becomes Of me now, for
nave lost all heart for everything l ever
Sareo Tor. What am here forf Attempted
murder, they say. I've put in four years
1 Tg ~ now, and | owe the queen six yet.
w naI was it all about? l can't tell that
iin!seH. l couldn't explain it to the
{uoge, and the jury wouldn't
nave understood it either. | was ALWAYS &
kmIulsh chap, parson, though | had never
harmed living soul that know Of Occu-