The Sweet Smell of Sagebrush: A Prisoner's Diary, 1903-1912

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The Sweet Smell of Sagebrush A

Prisoner's Diary

1903

-

1912

Written Anonymously in

Wyoming's

Frontier Prison

Rawlins,

Wyoming

Published 1994

by Friends of the Old Penitentiary in association

The Old

with

Penitentiary Joint Powers

©1990 Third Printing

Board

I*ublished by

Friends of the Old Pen in association

Old

with the

Penitentiary Joint

Rawlins,

Powers Board

Wyoming

Foreword The origins of this book are obscure. For more than thirty years the original manuscript has been in the Wyoming State Penitentiary files at the Carbon County

Museum

Rawlins, Wyoming. While

in

events are verifiable in

association

and

was probably

around 1923, this book 1903 until late 1912. These prison records and period newspapers. The author 's close

covers some specific events in

it

Wyoming

written

history dating from

direct participation in significant history are without question.

Chronological accuracy seems to suggest the

text

may have been

a loose transcript

from a prisoner's daily diary. The manuscript was untitled and written anonymously. Though research has pointed to a likely author, his identity has not been revealed in the body of the text, keeping with the spirit of the original text and the author 's apparent intention (please see afterword). The title — The Sweet Smell of Sagebrush — was given to this book in an effort to reflect the author 's unique sensitivity and undaunted spirit. Very little has been changed from the original manuscript which was typewritten on 8V2XII "paper without margins. Spelling and punctuation have been left as written. Because the author capitalized the first letter on every page, this unusual practice has been repeated in this publication. No words have been omitted or added to the story. Typographical errors have been corrected only when the author 's intention was

When the story changes, the text has been broken to give the reader a visual The original was written as one long paragraph without breaks from beginning to end. Archival photographs have been added to identify some characters. The historical integrity of the original manuscript has been a primary consideration of this publication clear. rest.

from

start to finish.

This book

is

being published by Friends of the Old Pen Inc.

,

which

is

a nonprofit

Wyoming 's Frontier Prison Penitentiary was opened in 1901 and closed in

corporation formed to help preserve, develop and promote

The Old Wyoming State when the prisoners moved to u new facility south of the town. This book is one 1981 of the more important sources of information available on the early history of the Frontier Prison. Profits from the sale of this book will go directly toward historical in Rawlins. ,

enhancement of the old penitentiary. We feel the author would have wanted

— Friends 1990

of the Old Pen

it

that way.

In offering a

work of

this kind,

I

am

fully

aware of the dangers confronting

my

expedition into

the literary jungle, as the result of an almost complete lack of training, in that particular line,

has been necessairy for

should

my

me

to

viewed

efforts be

omit the usual coating of polished veneer from

in their tru light,

increasing criminal population of the country,

then

my

hopes

shall

my

be realized,

it

handiwork,

how

to

curb the

problem of the day. though advance my own theory as to a possible remedy for those conditions, I do not pretend to have arrived at the correct solution of the problem, the fact that all efforts on the part of those best fitted, have so far failed to better the conditions, prompted the offering of my own views upon the situation. I have spent more than half the span of years allotted to man as a lifetime, as an incompetent, and a straggler from the ranks of organized society, my theory as to the salvaging of the social wreck, first tried upon myself with the result that the criminal population was decreased, to the extent of one. for more years than i like to admit, i observed, from a vantage point well behind the scenes, the activities of those who had chosen a course counter to the law. the men of today, and especialy the young»r generation, seem to show a marked degree of contempt for the laws of the country, should this spirit continue it must lead to a most deplorable situation, and might even endanger the safety of the nation itself, to lose all respect for law and order is to revert to a savage state, in my opinion a man is civilized to the same extent that he observes the law, both moral and man made, most of the crimes committed thruout the country today are the work of young men or boys, those conditions could only come about thru the laxness of parents, various organizations all over the country do their utmost to reform the criminal, young and old. their efforts are discouraging in many instances, they no doubt do much good, but in my opinion they are too late in most cases, the man should be formed instead of reformed, to protect the peace and dignity of a state or nation there must be law and order, that there be due regard for the law, a punishment must consequently be meted out to the transgressor, when a violator of the code is apprehended and brought before a court of justice, tried and convicted of a major offense, he is thereafter placed between walls of stone and concrete, behind doors of steel bars, for a period of time comensurate with the heniousness of the crime committed, convicting the law breaker and landing him behind prison walls must be to say the least a wearisome task, but the dignity of the law has been upheld, one who has trampled upon the rights of his brother man has been brought to account, so far so good, but does the matter end there, in a capitol offense where the law demands the life of the convicted prisoner the case naturaly ends when the sentence is carried out. where the offender is committed to states prison for a term of years the public gains but temporary relief from the evil doer, a state or government goes to great expense to put the law breaker behind the walls of the penitentiary, he no sooner gets there than church-workers reform orginazations and welfare leagues, unite in an effort to get him out, to reclaim him to the service of his brother man and his country, is

the foremost social

i

i

authorities in charge of prisons thruout the country strive to outdo each other in the

humane

treatment of prisoners under their care, a quarter of a century ago just the reverse was the object aimed at. the then popular belief that the crook could be cuffed and mauled into a model citizen,

was

about the same results that the kind treatment of today is producing, practically every state in the union now has a parole law whereby the prisoner, preferably a first offender, can be permitted to leave the prison secure some honest employment and there finish tried out with

out the remainder of his sentence, even the professional crook can emerge from the penitentiary

wearing the best of clothes, considerable money a farmer, in the

Wyoming

in his

states prison the convict is

pockets, and with his face sun-tanned like

allowed to play base-ball see the movies

And have

a prison band,

if

prison usualy find

done

that

is good he receives at the expiration of his sentence which fully restores his citizenship, the officers of the

his prison record

a paper signed by the governor of the state

employment

for the discharged prisoner if he wants

can be done to help the

first

results are anything but satisfactory.

Some

states

in fact

everything

is

have enacted a law known as the habitual

criminal law, whereby an offender should he have two or

may be

it.

offender back to the straight and narrow path, and the

more previous convictions

sent to jail for the remainder of his natural

to his

seems reasonable, that should life imprisonment await the old offender for any infraction of the law on his part, that the fear of such a fate would serve to keep him well within the bounds of the law. but it dont, even the knowledge that the death penalty awaits him if detected, would seldom deter the man with a prison record from committing acts of a criminal nature, if remember correctly, an eastern newspaper some time ago, offered a prize for the best answer to the question, how can we reform the criminal, or something to that effect, they didnt expect to receive the correct answer, the best answer was all that could be hoped for. the tendency of some humans to commit acts of a criminal nature is a subject of much scientific investigation, some have pronounced it a disease of the brain, and curable by a surgical operation, in these days of monkey glands and serums unusual things happen, to the men of science who fought and subdued the demon spanish-influenza, nothing seems impossible. credit,

life,

it

i

in the opinion of the writer,

prison,

is

the fact that he

is

what makes

it

an exconvict.

so hard to reform the in the majority

man who has once been in states man on being released from

of cases, a

to lose, should he resume his lawless career, if he is to regain depends almost entirely upon the man himself, without the full cooperation of the man himself, help from others would be of no avail, the man, if he is to make good, must be gifted with but little imagination possess an even temper and have but little regard for the opinion of others concerning himself, to the man not possessing these vantage points the battle will surely be a losing one. the convicted prisoner looks forward with dread, as the image of gray stone walls shaved heads and blue clad guards, pass in endless review before

prison feels like he has but his

former standing

little

in society,

journey to the states prison he usualy thinks not at all. but with his appearance before the public gaze as he shambles along his chains clanking, the f)enitentiary suddenly looms as a place of refuge, the memory of those staring eyes, the low muttered scathing remarks

his mental vision, of the first

from the curious onlookers, and most men in that position wish heartily that they were dead, and in the majority of cases they would be better off dead, most men facing the world after a have known term in prison feel their disgrace keenly, and a helping hand would not be amiss, the experience, men for were better in prison, term serving a who, after more than one man have known f)ersonaly dozens of men who could fill all the requirements of the most hardened criminal, and cant remember of one who wouldnt admit, that if he could live his life over again, he would choose the straight and narrow, in my opinion the proper time to help, is before the man gc^s to prison, or better yet before he becomes a man. while he is yet a boy. that a man should live to be old and when he knew his day was nearly done, and look back upon a lifetime spent in evil i

i

i

Pursuits,

and see

his mistake,

and realize

that the

world would have been better had he never existed

at all.

such a thing could be nothing short of a calamity, what could be more distressing to a

in the

prime of

that the die

was

life

cast

man

than to realize that he was playing a loosing game, with no chance to win, and

and he would have

to

go on. he must continue on

his

chosen course,

self preservation

wisdom fortified man against the temptation of self destruction, such is the fate of one who embarks upon the sea of crime, and when the passing years have mellowed him and stripped the romatic glamour from deeds of lawlessness and adventure, he sees his mistake, and they all do. when they reach a certain age, which is as a rule after it is too late, they begin to see where they are wrong, and the greater majority of those men if they could go back and start anew would be a credit instead of a disgrace to the country, believe that should a boy be shown in some effective way which he could thouroughly understand, the futility misery and utter uselessness of life of evil pursuits, that the criminal population of the country would be reduced to a minimum, the average boy knows nothing of the law. he knows that there are policemen and that some men are put in jail, in all to many cases his parents try to keep him in ignorance of that which he must sometime know, and maybe to his sorrow, the average youth upon reaching the age when he must choose his course in the world is poorly equipped for the struggle, if his judgement proves at fault it would be wrong to blame the boy, entirely, without a guiding hand the boys future would depend almost entirely upon circumstances, in this day, when man is

the first law of nature, the creator in his

i

hurtles through the air at something like one

hundred and

fifty

miles an hour, or careens

break-neck speed, even the men of more advanced age seem to have lost their heads, the typical farm boy of yesterday practically no longer exists, the farmers son nowadays dont seem to do much work, unless he does it in an along the earths surface on rubber tired wheels

at

automobile or upon the street comers of the nearest town, life looks bright to the normal and healthy boy, which is as it should be. he lives only for enjoyment, and to deprive him life of enjoyment and one of idleness are two different few youths upon reaching their majority, know the true value of economy, as applied to time, and all too few of them realize the actual value of a dollar, mischief and fun are the spice of life to youth the world over, the mind of a boy is more susceptible of impressions that those of persons of more advanced age, and if too many restrictions are placed upon his liberty he usualy knows that something is wrong with the system of management, that undue restraint is being exercised upon his youthful actions, and he naturaly resents it. that way the boy is brought up having a dislike for parental discipline, which might develope into a resentment against authority from any source, some parents make such a mess of the job of raising their boys, and girls, that fmaly finding themselves unable to cope with the situation, they invoke the aid of the law. that usualy means the reform school for the boy, which is nothing more than a short believe that the larger per cent of the men in prison today would have road to the penitentiary, been good citizens had they received the right management during their boyhood, if the boy has a confidant in his father and mother, they need have no fear for his future, he sees many things of which he knows nothing, but which he longs to investigate, if the parents are in the boys confidence, things which are sure to have an effect upon his future welfare, may be avoided, there is no doubt in my mind that many a boy who went wrong, would have become a good man, could he have been reared among strangers, as a rule strangers get better results with boys than do their own parents, and just the reverse should be the case, believe the time is coming, and not far distant, when there will be a suitable law concerning the proper upbringing of children, a woman in texas recently witnessed the legal execution of a man who had murdered

of his

full

share would be a crime, but a

things, but

i

i

Her fourteen yearold son. she suggests that all mothers should witness a hanging, and thereafter more strictly to the upbringing of their own boys lest they also fall a victim of the gallows, while that method of teaching might be very appropriate in some cases, it should hardly be

attend

necessairy to a

woman

of normal inteligence, and a

accord with nature that a boy inherits,

in a

more or

fair

degree of selfrespect.

it

is

perfectly in

weak or strong points but some of them seem

lesser degree, the

the character of his parents, they should take that into consideration,

in

to

humans, and subject to the frailities of the race, the boy must find out his own defects, for himself, and that is what, in my opinion, fills up the penitentiary s. have no doubt but what some are bom for nothing but that which is evil, and for that reason there will always be prisons, and of which the doors will not get rusty from disuse. believe that they are perfect themselves, but the fact remains that they are

all

i

in the contents of this book i am recounting incidents in the life of misery which surely awaits all boys who, through lack of judgement, or otherwise, under estimate the actual length of the long arm of the law, and attempt to defy it. my experience differs only in detail, from any other whose course runs counter to the law. they are all the same, when they see their mistake the past seems like a night mare, and the future a blank, on these pages where i, attempt to portray in a word, picture the unevitable results of a bitter resentment against authority which grew and flourished within me as far back as i can remember, the flame of rebellion eventualy burned itself out, after consuming the better days of my life, an extraordinary aversion to discipline on the part of a small boy is

either aquired or heriditary. in

my

country school, which

i

was not

inherited, a carefull investigation of the adherence to the laws of man. at the little backattended regulary during a period of six years, was allways well along

case

family tree, would reveal a record of

it

strict

i

deportment was anything but good, my conduct in the school room was not exemplary at any time, but during the last year of my attendance, i became so unruly that was pronounced incorrigable and expelled from school, that ended my school days, was then in

my

my

studies, but

i

i

twelve years old.

i

was refered

to as a desperate character,

however nobody thought of

trying to

reform me. at the age of sixteen was committed to the state penitentiary at rawlins. Wyoming, my twenty first birthday was passed inside the walls of the same instution. the twenty fifth and thirtieth aniversary of my birth were also spent in the Wyoming State prison, can trace my undoing to an extraoridnary bad temper, and an inherent love for firearms, my first plaything of which have any recolection, was a wooden gun of my own manufacture, from the first was denied the grew older my desire for a gun was increased instead of pleasure of possessing a real gun. as i

i

i

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i

diminished, the mere mention of a genuine firearm would never

fail

to arrouse the ire of

my

father

spent the most of my and mother, who were strongly averse to my having even a wooden gun. resolved time in making toy guns which were frequently taken away from me and destroyed, to have a gun if had to move heaven and earth, and did succeed in rocking the small world wherin lived, had finaly come into possession of a diminutive pistol, the first intimation my was charged with father had of the goings on came with my arrest by the town marshall. i

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Discharging firearms within the limits of the city, will not soon forget tha particular night a bad ending was pradicted for me. in that they were right, it couldnt have been otherwise, from that time on i accumulated guns faster than they could find and destroy them, a resentment i

grew in to such an extent that i became a sort of an outlaw, i heard vague rumors of reform schools and so on. was also assured that the hangmans noose awaited me in never thought of asking permission to do a thing for it was sure to be the not distant future, couldnt get what refused, if wanted from some other source went without it. the simple fact wanted a thing was so it seemed to me, sufficient grounds for refusal, possessed a that mechanical turn somewhat above the ordinary, spent much time and work upon a model of a steam engine, which kept concealed in a thick clumpof brush, where i had constructed a sort of workshop, i carried on my work there while my father searched the country over for me. the while he would be shouting and promising all kinds of punishment, this harangue was usualy kept up anyway knew so would stay under cover untill prompted by a ravenous hunger i would muster up enough courage to face the storm, which usualy broke loose when showed up after develloped a peculiar instinct to hide away unseen, preferably among the trees running away, and brush, and it lingers in me still. against their authority,

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some hidden force working against me holding back and weighting me down, i had always wanted a horse of my own. there was one particular colt belonging to my father that coveted above all others that i had ever seen, i finaly decided to ask him for the horse, and for a wonder he said yes you can have him. when the colt reached the age when he should be broken for use, i asked permission to start breaking him i was told to leave the colt alone, two former schoolmates of mine were then hired to break the colt, they afterwards joked me about not being allowed to break my own horses, after the horse was broken he was then sold to the boys that broke him. that was the last straw, i promised myself an early leavetaking from the family circle, what i had i should do for a living after i should leave home occupied no place in my thoughts, allways liked to work but i lacked skill, i had never been allowed to do anything by myself, had become fairly good at riding a horse, and what i did know only hastened my undoing, allways there was

i

shooting

at tin cans,

for parts

known

however

i

was anxious

to

go away, and

at the first

oppurtunity

i

decamped

only to myself.

world had now begun, i soon found employment but my former training, and a bad temper played havoc from the start, a gruff word or a cross word from those with whom i came in contact would create a longing in my heart for some safe retreat among the trees and rocks, never worked long in one place, the then small town of casper, Wyoming needless to say

my battle with the

i

me

is drawn to a magnet, in those days but one rail road ran The Elkhom and Missouri River Valley road came in from the east by way of crawford and fort robinson nebraska and ended at casper. beyond casper to the westward the only means of locomotion was the faithfiill horse, a well traveled wagon road stretched away through the hills over which the old concord stage coach running on skedual time, passed once each day through the little settlements of Wolton Lost Cabin and on to lander and fort washaki. the northwestern corner of the state was favored by but one railroad, a branch

Always seemed

to attract

as a needle

through the central part of the

of the Burlington running

state.

down from Toluca Montana, and ending

Cody, the nearest railroad

at

Worland Basin City and Burlington, was a small place called Garlend located at the upper end of the big horn basin near the Montana line, often think in these days of oil wells and automobiles, of the wonderfuU opportunities which were then being thrust before all too unseeing eyes, then i was too vitaly interested in the ageold vocation of misguided youth, the sowing of wild oats, once when in casper was sitting upon the broad sidewalk in front of the boarding house where i was staying, a young fellow of about my age was siting on a fence just across the street attracted my attention, the fact that he had but one arm, and why asked a man who was siting near he continued to sit upon the fence, aroused my curiosity, me on the walk, about the one armed youth, was told that the young man whose name was Ferris was being held in jail as a witness in a murder case, the sheriff allowed him to stay outside in the sunshine instead of keeping him locked up in jail, lost interest in the boy at the mention of a point available to the towns of

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had never before seen a jail building, or if i had i didnt know what it was. asked my informant where the jail was. he pointed to the building enclosed by the light wooden fence upon which the one armed boy was perched, this was two story building built of stone, and had great steep roofed gables like a church, i thought of the things that i had heard of iron bars and such like, there were no bars to be seen on the doors or windows of the building across the street, then asked the man how they could keep the men in jail if there were no bars on the windows, he said, that isnt the jail that you see there, the jail is at the back of the big building, the sheriff

jail,

i

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i

lives in the front part,

i

well as the outside, but

i

was i

later to

become well aquainted with

the interior of this building as

never dreamed of such a thing then.

decided for some reason to go to Wolton sixtyfive miles west of casper on the lander stage road,

the next day

i

took the stage and that evening got

at

Richards and Cunningham store talking, three of them

was an old Scotchman named McRae, yes that he had been trying to get a with him.

man men

to

i

agreed and

we went

if

man

wolton. a group of i

knew by

sight,

he knew of any place where himself, and

out the next day.

if

i

wanted

McRae had

all

i

i

men

stood in front of the

asked one of the men.

who

could get a job. he said

could go out to go to work ways been classed as a hard i

work for and had trouble in securing help, it was talked around that he wouldnt pay his wages unless he was forced to. at that time he owed a man in casper several hundred

their

and wouldnt pay him. once in the past he had killed a man to escape paying several hundred dollars due him as wages, for this he had been tried and convicted and sentenced to be hung in casper. he was reprieved at the eleventh hour, and after being granted a new trial, and a change of venue to Rawlins, he was turned loose, it was doubtfull if could have worked for any one man for very long, but at any rate didnt last very long with old McRae. after had been dollars,

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-6-

There about six weeks decided to quit the old man and asked him for the fifty dollars wages which were due me. it took him a full week to give me any answer at all, and then was told that he was a little short on money right at that time but would have plenty a few weeks later, one day we had a quarrel over the money and McRae called me a bad tempered kid. that was the first stayed around the ranch for another week ever had that possessed a temper, intimation had no money and there being but small chance trying to figure out what was the best thing to do. of getting any from the Scotchman, was in a fix. dont believe that if he had given me the money that would have been content to go away without doing something to get even with him for making me wait so long. McRae had at some time or other picked up a stray bronk belonging to an Indian on the shoshone reservation, he had nevere notified anyone of the horse being in his possession so foolishly thought that he couldnt do anything about it if took the horse myself, so rode away on the stray horse after finding it necessairy to steal a new saddle and bridle from McRae, no doubt could have gotten away with the horse, but the old Scotchman could never forget that saddle, after using all the means of which had any knowledge in concealing my trail, i took a bee line for the sandhills country north of casper. so in my desire for revenge i had committed an act that was sure to react as a boomerang upon my own head, but of that thought nothing, i felt only the satisfaction of having in my possession at least fifty dollars worth of McRaes would no doubt have given more never took the law into consideration, if had property, i

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law

in

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attention to a certain individual in casper

who

at that

time was the chief representative of the

natrona county, namely the sheriff, in the meantime the outraged Scotchman had not been

idle his first

moove upon missing

the sheriff of today

when

was

the outfit

to notify the sheriff at casper.

notified of the prescence of a horse thief in his teriotary, nine times out of

jumps for the telephone not so in that day. that sheriff went straight to the barn and a number of good horses which he all ways kept there, there could be but one result for me, a speedy landing in the little jail built on the back of that church-like building that had noticed a short time before, had one friend that wanted to get me turned loose, and told the sheriff get a certain lawyer there in town to defend me and he would pay the man for his services, i was taken to the lawyers office for an interview in regards to my coming trial for horse stealing, didnt think that could get out of the mixup at no time, and after i left that lawyers office there in that little log building, knew for sure that was in for it. i have seen twenty snows since then, but my memory of that short talk with the lawyer is plain as though it happened yesterday, as went in the door of his office, that professional juggler of laws was pacing back and forth across the room, the ^en

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while, dictating to a girl stenographer, the girl and in

began

it is

life

sat

down on

was asked how old

a chair and after a short time the lawyer dismissed

my

case, the lawyer sat looking at

him my

me

as though

was sixteen statement was verified by the sheriff, he then turned to the officer and said, wonder why that so many boys who would no doubt have made good citizens and buisness men, should take up of evil pursuits, the sheriff said he didnt know the reason for that but lots of them done it

deep thought, then

this

i

to talk with the sheriff about i

i

was,

i

told

correct age which i

-7-

a

Anyway,

the law buster then

should be done,

it

was

made

his idea that

the suggestion that

my boyhood

i

friends

change my name, he explained why this would be less apt to find out my disgrace

my

name, he named over a collection of different names, and said could take my then asked him why should change my name as what had done wouldnt hurt my reputation much as they allways had accused me of worse things than what was now charged with, he said, well you havent been in the penitentiary yet have you? i said no had never been there, well he said, you will soon be there, and you wont want your old schoolmates and friends to know of it therefore you had better change your name, asked him if had to go to the penitentiary, yes there is no way out of it that know of, he was sure that cant keep you out of there, then told him that if had to go that had no need for a legal advisor, and told the sheriff that was ready to go back to the jail, the officer consented readily enough, and was soon back in the cell formerly occupied by my erstwhile employer McRae. if

i

changed

i

choice of the different names,

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through the window

vacant plot of ground in the jail-yard where the i had a view of the small had once erected a scaffold upon which they intended to hang old McRae. through some misscariage of justic he had escaped this untimely end. i had for companions, three of the hardest looking customers i have ever seen in jail or anywhere else, and i have had occaision to view some of the worst of them, they were all charged with serious offences, they admitted their guilt and only awaited the coming of the district judge and receive their sentences, their chief authorities

topic of conversation

was

the possible severity of sentence

receive a term of not less than ten years

if

coming

to

them,

not more, the other fellows were

i

fully

all

expected to

thankfull that they

were not charged with horse stealing, i well remember their trepidation on that eventfull day, a few weeks later, when the sheriff, accompanied by much rattling of keys and a banging of iron doors, entered the jail and announced the presence of the judge at the court house and for with the other three prisoners, which everybody to get ready to go over and be sentenced, consisted of a pale faced gambler an exsailor whose face still bore traces of a black eye and other evidences of a recent fistic encounter, and a villianous looking cowpuncher, entered the small court room and were escorted to seats by the sheriff and his deputy, the late judge Carpenter was on the bench at that term of the district court, the room was real quiet as we had a good idea that the something was entered, they seemed to be waiting for something, and was right for the judge immediately became interested in something in us four prisoners, in this the general direction of the long wooden bench upon which we were siting, he sat there behind looked at the gambler at whom the judge his desk and eyed us speculatively for a few minutes, seemed to be directly looking, that pasty faced gentleman was not standing up very well under what must have been to him a trying ordeal, sweat oozed from every pore of his face and his hands shook as with palsy, thought that if the old judge wished to sentence the gambler that he had better hurry up. the latters nerve was no doubt good enough in a poker game but it seemed to have deserted him in this hour of need, the exsailor didnt show much satisfaction in his present position, the stern glance of the judge seemed to have about the same penetrating effect upon the uncouth looking cow puncher as water on a duck, his honor finaly turned and entered into a i

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Moments conversation with the county attorney, after which he addressed me telling me to arrise walked out in front of him and stood there facing him. he then read aloud and come forward, the charge against me, and asked if i was guilty or not guilty, i said i was guilty, i was then asked if i had anything to say why sentence should not be pronounced upon me. i answered no. he then began admonishing me for my unlawfull act. at that instant i became possessed of an insane desire dont know, my brain was in a whirl, for a moment to laugh, how i controlled this impulse thought that i was lost, to have laughed at that time i am sure would have been the worse for me. i came to myself as i was walking to my seat, with the sound of the judges voice ringing in my ears could remember was, one year in the penitentiary at the city of rawlins Wyoming, that was all enough, the pallid faced gambler was the next to stand before the court to receive his sentence, the same formality was gone through with as in my case, as the judge pronounced sentence upon this knight of the green table, the latter showed one of the most distinct characteristics of his tribe in the shaking of his knees, as the exsailor stood before the seat of judgement, he also seemed to be encountering some heavy seas, the punchers of cows came last and i noted with satisfaction that he never batted an eye. each received a year in the penitentiary the same as i i

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had.

a few days afterwards

we were

loaded into a light mountain

wagon drawn by

a team of large grey

horses started across country to rawlins, and the penn. the sheriff drove the team and a mounted

seemed in from the north we could see the smoke arising from behind a long ridge which hid the little town from our view, a feeling of depression stole over me which dont think have ever since been able to completely shake off. almost the first sight that greeted our eyes as we came into view of the town was the prison itself, the road which we were traveling, passed close to the fence which enclosed the grounds upon which the buildings stood, before we realized it we were through the big iron front door and seated in the room where prisoners are first received, after the sheriff had gone through the necessairy formalities of turning us over to the prison authorities, we were conducted through a series of steel doors to a bathroom given a bath had our clothes taken away and were given in exchange a secondhand suit of stripped illfitting clothes, the shirt made of some kind of stiff hard cloth was decorated on the right breast with a huge number freshly daubed on with some kind of evil smelling black paint or ink. we were then given a dinner of boiled beef and bread, each man was given an empty tomatoe can to be used for drinking water, or if he wished there was an abundance of a darkcolored mixture, which for a better name, was called coffee, the table and benches were made of plain pine boards and bore evidence of much scrubbing and washing, the great hall-like building in which we sat seemed cool and damp, complete silence was the order of the day there we could see that very plainly, the only sounds were the pad of swiftly moving feet over the cement floor as white faced stripped forms flitted in and out through the doorways which looked like black holes in the walls, felt like i must be entering upon existence in another world, and realy was. a prison for the detention of the human deputy rode ahead along the road, the

good

spirits untill

we neared

trip four

days of steady traveling, the party

the end of our journey, as

we approached i

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all

the city of rawlins

Animal holds an atmosphere of gloom and depression my nostrils as we entered the prison proper, which is to the senses, truly

it

which means, walled

a world apart, penitentiary,

is

in.

is

own. even the odor which greeted was absolutely strange derived from the old english word, hell

all its

called a cell house,

wellnamed.

our dinner ended the guard, a tall handsome man in civilians clothes, came over to the table and in a kind voice and manner, told me to come with him. i complied with alacrity, he led the way up three flights of iron stairs to the highest row of cells in the honeycomb-like construction of the cell block, this was an illfavored locality on the north side of the house where but little light

found

its

way

inside through the high barred outside

windows, the

sandstone and was a good exhibition of the stone masons

art. the

cell

block was built of grey

walls were almost the same as

hewn from

the solid rock, the cell floors were made from a natural formation of untouched by hamer or chisle, except on the edges, this rock formed the floor of the top cell, and as they were all built one above the other, the floor of one constituted the roof of the one below, an iron bar ran the full length of each tier of cells, being placed just above if

they were

thin hard rock

the doors and operated by a long lever, the cell doors

simultaenously, by one

movement of

when

the lever, the doors

turned by a huge iron key. on arriving at the top of the

long lever and opened the door of the

closed could be effectivly locked

were also

last flight

fitted

of

with a heavy lock

stairs the

guard moved the

first cell.

could see that this dark tomb-like hole in the wall already had an occupant, a man in shirt sleeves and striped trousers sat on a wooden stool before a small table working on a section of a hair remember his exact words, he called the man by name bridle, the guard spoke to the man and and added, i have brought you a cellmate, i was shoved into the hole and the door banged shut behind me. had now started doing time sure enough, the man who was allready in the cell was was charged with, he was sent up from serving a three year term for the same offence that i

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had heard of him but had never before seen him. he eventualy served his time and was released, that man is still in Wyoming and is a good citizen, after entered the cell, i stood there and watched him working upon the horse hair bridle, he had not spoken a word, and didnt even glance up from his work, that lasted for about thirty minutes, finaly he laved aside the tangle of colored horse hair and motioned towards the only piece of furniture the cubbyhole contained, a small wooden bench, i sat down on this and the man turned towards me with the question, where did you come from casper? he allready knew where had come from and had been there possibly thirty minutes, this man seemed to hold a bitter resentment towards society and the powers responsible for his downfall, he gave me a few pointers on the rules of the prison. casper the year before,

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copy of which hung on the wall of each cell, the rules forbade any talking whatever, except in where the occupants might converse in undertones, at the dining table signs were used instead of spoken words, to be caught talking outside your cell meant a summary trip to the dungeon, the same punishment was in store for the violater of a number of other rules such as, neglecting your work, fighting, insolence towards an officer, and so on. the cell

/

V Otto lyll.

Gramm, Wyoming

State Penitentiary Lessee 1903-

Photo courtesy of Wyoming Stale Archives, Museum

&

Historical Department.

at that time the prison was run on the lease system, the place was leased about on the same plan as one would rent a farm or other property, a man named Graham had the penitentiary under a lease contract at the time of which i write, he paid the state so much per head per month or by the year for the

own warden and guards, mercy of graham, he owned the

use of the convicts, and he paid the expense of running the place, hired his the state didnt

have much

to

do with

it.

prisoner to the same extent that one

the prisoner

owns

was

a dog or a horse, he regarded his

being of less value than a horse, inasmuch as there was no it

never cost him anything to secure

all

therefor at the

first

human charges

the convicts he wanted, the prisoners

manufacture of brooms, the shop was run by Scoville Brothers of Ogden Utah, yielded a

handsome profit to it was therefore

of revenue

were employed in the this factory no doubt

Mr Graham, the broom shop being the chief source aim of the management to use every available man at this work.

the operators as well as the

as of

cost connected with this propisition, at least

-11-

Tying brooms was classed as the hardest work in the shop and required considerable skill if was to be done in the proper manner this work was usualy reserved for the man with a long sentence, it was also used as a sort of punishment even for a short timer in case he should get too tough, each man had an allotted amount of work to do each day. then he could return to his hole in the wall and spend his time as he chose, making horse hair bridles and so on. when a new beginer entered the shop he was first given a small amount of work to do. this was increased from day to day and was called a running task, this way he would gradualy work up to a full days work, if after a reasonable length of time he failed to do the full amount of work required, he was put in the dungeon for a few days, then he could try it again and if he didnt make good was taken back to the dungeon, this would be repeated until the man either done the work, or died from the effects of the punishment, they usualy did the work, the foreman of the broom shop was viewed in the light of a true autocrat, as indeed he was. during working hours his jurishdiction was complete, if he wanted a man put in the dungeon he was taken there at once, and if a prisoner happened to be confined in the place of punishment for some offense committed outside of the shop, he would have him turned loose if his services were badly needed in the factory.

was considerable work

to be done outside the shop in the prison yard and in the cell house, of cells runs a board walk called a gallery, a prisoner is employed on each of the gallery s to sweep the floors and carry drinking water to the men in the cells, he makes his rounds about once every hour carrying a water can and a lighted torch to light the kerocene oil lamps

there

along each

tier

in the cells, this is

known

as a soft job and could only be secured by permission of the

order to get that job one had to be a stool pigeon, which in the parlance of those denizens of the underworld, means an informer, a carrier of tales, his main job was to pump the prisoners who worked in the broom shop, if he failed to do that to the .satisfaction

foreman of the shop,

in

of that distinguished gentleman, the foreman the would be

spy system formerly in vogue incident that occured a short time after

in most prisons,

tattler

was encouraged

went

there,

to the i

well

shop himself, the

remember an

entered the prison, my cellmate was released a short time went there and was placed in a cell with a character who worked outside the prison walls. he worked every day sunday and all. the first sunday that was there of course was left alone, heard someone call my name, it was repeated time after time sat there doing nothing when the sound seemed to come from a small ventilating hole in the back wall of the cell, each place was equipped with a ventilator, a hole had been made in the stone-work of the walls, the \entilating space went clear up to the roof of the building with an opening in each cell, and covered by an iron wicket this hole could be used as a sort of speaking tube from one cell to the one on the oposite side of the house, to be caught talking through that ventilator ment a quick trip to the dungeon, knew that for sure and had no special desire to go there, the place was quiet as church and couldnt hear any of the guards near and thought that would take a chance of getting caught and answer the man that was so persistently calling from the makeshift speaking found him to be the tcmporairly heard his voice distinctly, said hello and as soon as tube, him since coming to the prison, he never talked to had retired gambler of earlier acquaintance, after

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Had been assigned work in the tailor shop and i was in the broom factory, told him to hurry and get through talking before a guard came along and took us both to the dungeon, he said that he only wanted to warn me against the man who was in the same cell with me, he said that he was then asked him what that was, i was told that a snitch and a stool pidgeon were one a "snitch" and the same thing, thus was a new word added to my vocabulary, the fact that i was cooped figured that if had done nothing for up with a man with a reputation bothered me not at all. him to tell about that there was nothing he could or would say that would in any way injure me. i

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i

there

was one man among

the one

having been made to work, and

it

hundred and

was

sentence for a murder done in Uintah County,

break his

spirit

fifty

the truth, his all

i

prisoners there

who

efforts

life

only seemed to add strength to his determination to avoid the in the

work shop, dungeon,

to

at first

after

week or more he was taken out and told to go to the broom shop, he did he was told insofar as going to the shop was concerned, for the accomidation of the convicts the shop, two sticks hung in front of the guards station, when a prisoner wished to leave the

being

in

a

on the part of the prison authorities

he absolutely refused to go to work and as a matter of course was put as

boasted of never

name was Edmundson, serving

left

there for a

shop he saluted the guard reached up and took one of the sticks and went out. the first act of Edmundson upon entering the shop was to secure one of the sticks, that was a privalege of which a prisoner could avail himself at any time, there were but two sticks and not more than

two men could be absent from the factory at the same time, if both of the sticks happened to be in use, the next man would be allowed to sit upon a bench in front of the guard and wait untill someone came back with one. Edmundson didnt come back with his stick and the guard reported him missing to the officers in the cell house, he had thrown the stick away upon reaching the yard, and when they located him he was sitting in his cell smoking, he was immediately taken to the dungeon, after about two weeks he was taken out and told to go to the shop and report for work, he went and repeated the performance with the wooden sticks, this was done over and over with the same result, he wouldnt work, they then tried to beat him into submission and on one occasion he was struck on the head with a heavy padlock and seriously injured, but he never gave in. he was a tough looking character, and was even tougher than he looked he possessed an evil mind and a caloused heart, the prisoners while eating sat facing each other at the long tables placed on the cement floor of the cell house, we were all ways under the constant surveilance of the guards at meal times, old Edmundson sat just across the table from me and aboutb six feet to my left, his face and head held a marked resemblance to some animal of the monkey or ape family, his face was broad and round, the forhead low and receding bulging watery eyes wide mouth and thick lips, the top of his head was completely couldnt keep from looking devoid of hair, he was an object of the greatest curiosity to me. at him and he allways seemed to be watching me. whenever he could catch my eye he would wrinkle up his face in a horrible grimace, there would be no more eating for me. would laugh untill became so exausted that couldnt laugh no more, this would attract the attention of the guard and he would come and stand quite near and cast searching glances in the i

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Direction of where sat. he could see no reflection of the cause of my merriment in the stony faces of the silently eating convicts around me. he never did say any thing to me about laughing at the table. i

Henrv Edmonson, inmate number 377.

were smooth shaven the hair could be worn in the usual style, if one should be was clipped off close, three convict barbers did the work of shaving once a week and the prisoners were allowed to have their hair cut once in about six weeks, on Saturday the barbers would take their tools to the broom shop and shave the men there, three crude hand made barber chairs were kept in the shop for this purpose, the barber chairs were placed a few feet in front of the guards station, the prisoner would go up there and soap his own face to save time, this way the barbers could finish in one day the first time they told me to go up and get shaved, guessed didnt need a shave as had no told the guard that beard, this seemed to make him suddenly go wild, he jumped out of his high arm chair his fat face purple with rage, as he shouted at me, you arent running this place yet get in that chair and get shaved, and got in and had the lather scraped off my face, the barber who shaved me was a nice looking young fellow with a sad face, he told me in a low tone of voice in which he never moved his lips a particle, never mind kid wont more than scrape the lather o'i'i. he was serving a all

the prisoners

put in the dungeon for any reason whatever the hair

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Twentyfive year term for

man

killing a

in

Crook County, he

told that

he never expected to get

out of there alive, but he did get released after working on that barber chair for twelve years.

men

he was one of the finest

that

i

had ever seen and

i

thought

it

was

a sin to keep

him

in a

among the men there with whom formed an acquaintance, one stands out most prominent in my memory, he ate directly across from me at the table, he worked in the broom shop and some times engaged in a moments conversation with him, when by chance we could evade the watchfull eyes of the guard, on hollidays talking was allowed at hole like that for so long a time,

i

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the dining table, this

Christmas, this

was

man was

a privalege granted three times a year, fourth of July thanksgiving and

serving a sentence of ninety nine years for killing a deputy sheriff of

Uintah County, he had no chance of ever geting out of there alive, and he knew

number was

it.

his prison

hundred, he had been there about three years and was a model prisoner he told that he never expected to get out, and he never did. can remember quite plainly, of a time

me

six

i

seversl years later, on a cold

november morning, he

killed a

guard while making an own hand, that his

unsuccessful attempt to escape, and rather than be recaptured, died by his skeleton

there

now adorns some

doctors office

i

havent the slightest doubt.

was allways church services held every sunday

administration building,

all

in the

big chapel in the top story of the

prisoners except the kitchen crew, and a few others

whose work

required their prescence elsewhere, were compelled to attend church on sunday. or in case he

was not a church goer, the dungeon was free to all who cared to go there, the only way out was to be excused by the prison doctor, the convicts entered the chapel over a draw bridge which was drawn up as a precaution against possible plans of a break by way of the chaple. one Sunday when the church services were about over we could hear an unearthly yelling and moaning in the cell house, the screaming sounded as though the man was being subjected to some form of most horrible physical torture, the sounds continued as we marched out over the draw bridge, from this vantage point we could look directly down upon an interesting scene, there was one convict who had been pestering the prison doctor with complaints of an ingrowing toe nail which he claimed bothered him to such an extent that he couldnt work, he was tying brooms and the doctor said he was just stalling in order to escape work, he was put in the dungeon but that had no effect, every morning when the doctor came he would be the first one on the list, the doctor would ask him the nature of his ailment and the man would complain of the sore toe. it had finaly gotten on the doctors nerves so that he decided to fix the fellow up. the doctor had given orders to have him kept in his cell during church and as soon as we were all in the chapel they brought him down stais and under the doctors instructions was lain on his back upon a small table which stood in front of the kitchen door, this table was used to set pans on during meal time, the entire kitchen force was then called out and ordered to hold the man down, this was done to the satisfaction all

concerned, especialy the doctor, the doctor of medicene then produced a pair of pliers

and

a pocket knife, with the aid of these instruments

-15-

he preceded to

split the

offending toe

Nail

down through the

centre and pull out the pieces, this naturaly explained the yelling,

of hearing any one complaine of bad toe nails after

that, the

i

dont remember

doctor was employed by Graham, he

morning but some times he didnt show up at all. there was missed him when he failed to arrive on time, that was the foreman of the broom shop, the main object in having a doctor was to keep the men at work, he allways came early in the morning so that in case any of the convicts should remain in their cells on the sick list, he could send them to the shop at the earliest possible moment, for a hospital they had a single

was supposed only one

room

man

in the

to visit the place every

that

upper story of the administation building

with cells like an ordinary

jail the

that

room contained an

iron cage

prisoners refered to that place as the butcher room,

i

never

knew of a convict to go there for treatment and coming back to the cell house, what disposition was made of the ones who were unfortunate enough to be taken there dont know, one fellow named Williams managed to escape from the prison by some means or other, he was soon i

recaptured however,

it

was customary

dungeon, but not so

to punish such an offender

case of that man. for

by a long confinement

some reason known

to themselves he he had been there a short time, a guard armed with a gun appeared at his cell door, the gun was discharged and the convict fell dead on the iron floor of his cell, in the eyes of the powers controlling the situation the guard was justified in his act. and perhaps he was. in the

was put

in the

in the hospital, after

James Williams, inmate number Slate Archives.

Museum