Charlevoix county herald., 1911-06-17
CHAPTER XIII.

In the very heart of Manhattan, right
in the center of the city's most con-
gested district, an imposing edifioe
of gray stone. medieval in it's style of
architecture, lowered high above all
the surrounding dingy Offices and
:squalid tenements. It's massive con-
struction, steep walls, pointed turrets,
raised parapets and long, narrow, slit
like windows, heavily barred, gave it
'the aspect of a feudal fortress incon-
;gruously set down plumb in the midst
of twentieth century New York. The
dull roar Of Broadway hummed
couple of blocks away; in the distance
loomed the lofty, graceful spans of
Brooklyn bridge, jammed with it's op-
posing streams Of busy interurban
traffic. The adjacent streets were
filled with the din of hurrying crowds,
the rattle of vehicles, the cries of ven-
'dors. the clang Of street cars, the ugh!
ugh! OF speeding automobiles. The ac-
tive, pulsating life of the metropolis
surged like a rising flood about the
tall gray walls, yet there was no re-
sponse within. Grim, silent, sinister,
the city prison. popularly known as
"the Tombs," seemed to have nothing
in common with the daily activities of
the big town in which, notwithstand-
ing, 1t unhappily played an important
b part.
The present prison is a vastly diff
ferent place to the old Jail from
which it got it's melancholy cognomen.
To-day there is not the slightest justi-
fication for the lugubrious epithet ap-
piled to it, but in the old days, when
mans inhumanity to man was less a
form of speech than cold, merciless
fact the "Tombs" described an intol-
cradle and disgraceful condition fairly
accurately. Formerly the cells in
which the unfortunate prisoners were
confined while awaiting trial were sit
uated deep under ground and had nei-
ther light nor ventilation. man
might be guiltless of the offense with
which he was charged, yet while
awaiting an opportunity to prove his
Innocence he was condemned to spend
days, sometimes months, in what was
little better than a grave. Literally,
he was buried alive. A party of for
eigners visiting the prison one day
were startled at seeing human beings
confined in such holes. "They look
like tombs!" cried some one. New
York was amused at the singularly
appropriate appellative and 1t has
stuck to the prison ever since.
But times change and Institutions
with them. AS man becomes more
civilized lie treats the lawbreaker
with more humanity Probably socs
eiy ill always need its prisoners.
but as we become more enlightened
we insist on treating our criminals
more from the physiological and psy-
Geological standpoints than in the
cruel, brutal, barbarous manner of the
dark ages. In other words the soclol-
ogist insists that the lawbreaker has
greater need of the physician than he
has of the jailer.
To-day the city prison is a tomb
In name only. 1t is admirably con-
structed, commodious, well ventilated
The cells are large and well lighted,
with comfortable cots and all the
modern sanitary arrangements. There
are roomy corridors for daily exercise
and luxurious shower baths can be oh.
tanned free for the asking. There are
chapels for the religiously inclined
and q library for the studious. The
food is wholesome and we'll prepared
in a large, scrupulously clean kitchen
situated on the top floor. Carping
critics have, indeed, declared the
Tombs to be too luxurious, declaring
that habitual criminals enjoy a stay
at the prison and actually commit
crime so that they may enjoy some OF
It's hotel-like comforts.