Chapter 25

The monitor within frequently impelled Friend Hopper to address the assembled convicts at Sing Sing, on Sunday. The officers of the establishment were very willing to open the way for him; for according to the testimony of Mr. Harman Eldridge, the warden, "With all his kindness, and the encouragement he was always ready to give, he was guarded and cautious in the extreme, that nothing should be said to conflict with the discipline of the prison." His exhortations rendered the prisoners more docile, and stimulated them to exertion by keeping hope alive in their hearts. On such occasions, I have been told that a large portion of his unhappy audience were frequently moved to tears; and the warmth of their grateful feelings was often manifested by eagerly pressing forward to shake hands with him, whenever they received permission to do so. The friendly counsel he gave on such occasions sometimes produced a permanent effect on their characters. In a letter to his daughter Susan, he says: "One of these poor fellows attacked the life of the keeper, and I soon after had a private interview with him. He received what I said kindly, but declared that he could not govern his temper. He said he had no ill-will toward the keeper; that what he did was done in a gust of passion, and he could not help it. I tried to convince him that he had power to control his temper, if he would only exercise it. A year and a half afterward, on First Day, after meeting, he asked permission to speak to me. He then told me he was convinced that what I had said to him was true; for he had not given way to anger since I talked to him on the subject. He showed me many certificates from the keepers, all testifying to his good conduct. I hardly ever saw a man more changed than he is."

I often heard my good old friend describe these scenes in the Prison Chapel, with much emotion. He used to say, the feeling of confidence and safety which prevailed, was sometimes presented to his mind in forcible contrast with the state of things in Philadelphia, in 1787, as related by his worthy friend, Dr. William Rogers, who was on the committee of the first Society formed in this country "for relieving the miseries of public prisons." That kind-hearted and conscientious clergyman proposed to address some religious exhortation to the prisoners, on Sunday. But the keeper was so unfriendly to the exertion of such influence, that he assured him his life would be in peril, and the prisoners would doubtless escape, to rob and murder the citizens. When an order was granted by the sheriff for the performance of religious services, he obeyed it very reluctantly; and he actually had a loaded cannon mounted near the clergyman, and a man standing ready with a lighted match all the time he was preaching. His audience were arranged in a solid column, directly in front of the cannon's mouth. This is supposed to have been the first sermon addressed to the assembled inmates of a State Prison in this country.

Notwithstanding Friend Hopper's extreme benevolence, he was rarely imposed upon. He made it a rule to give very little money to discharged convicts. He paid their board till employment could be obtained, and when they wished to go to their families, in distant places, he procured free passage for them in steamboats or cars; which his influence with captains and conductors enabled him to do very easily. If they wanted to work at a trade, he purchased tools, and hired a shop, when circumstances seemed to warrant such expenditure. After they became well established in business, they were expected to repay these loans, for the benefit of others in the same unfortunate condition they had been. Of course, some who expected to receive money whenever they told a pitiful story, were disappointed and vexed by these prudential regulations. Among the old gentleman's letters, I find one containing these expressions: "When I heard you talk in the Prison Chapel, I thought there was something for the man that had once left the path of honesty to hope for from his fellow-men; but I find that I was greatly mistaken. You are men of words. You can do the wind-work first rate. But when a man wants a little assistance to get work, and get an honest living, you are not there. Now I wish to know where your philanthropy is."

But such instances were exceptions. As a general rule, gratitude was manifested for the assistance rendered in time of need; though it was always limited to the urgent necessities of the case. One day, the following letter, enclosing a dollar bill for the Association, was addressed to Isaac T. Hopper: "Should the humble mite here enclosed be the means of doing one-sixteenth part the good to any poor convict that the sixteenth of a dollar has done for me, which I received through your hands more than once, when I was destitute of money or friends, then I shall have my heart's desire. With the blessing of God, I remain your most humble debtor."

From the numerous cases under Friend Hopper's care, while Agent of the Prison Association, I will select a few; but I shall disguise the names, because the individuals are living, and I should be sorry to wound their feelings by any unnecessary exposure of past delinquences.

C.R. about twenty-nine years old, called at the office, and said he had been lately released from Moyamensing prison; having been sentenced for two years, on account of selling stolen goods. When Friend Hopper inquired whether it was his first offence, he frankly answered, "No. I have been in Sing Sing prison twice for grand larceny. I served five years each time."

"Thou art still very young," rejoined Friend Hopper; "and it seems a large portion of thy life has been spent in prison. I am afraid thou art a bad man. But I hope thou seest the error of thy ways, and art now determined to do better. Hast thou any friends?"

He replied, "I have a mother; a poor hard-working woman, who sells fruit and candies in the streets. If you will give me a start, I will try to lead an honest life henceforth; for I want to be a comfort and support to her. I have no other friend in the world, and nobody to help me. When I left prison, I was advised to come to you. I am a shoemaker; and if I had money to buy a set of tools, I would work at my trade, and take care of my mother."

Necessary tools were procured for him, and he seemed very grateful; saying it was the first time in his life that he had found any one willing to help him to be honest, when he came out of prison. Great doubts were entertained of the success of this case; because the man had been so many times convicted. But he occasionally called at the office, and always appeared sober and respectable. A few months after his first introduction, he sent Friend Hopper a letter from Oswego, enclosing seven dollars for his mother. He immediately delivered it, and returned with a cheerful heart to enter it on his Record; adding, "The poor old woman was much pleased that her son remembered her, and said she believed he was now going to do well."

After that, C.R. frequently sent five or ten dollars to his mother, through the same channel, and paid her rent punctually. He refunded all the money the Association had lent him, and made some small donations, in token of gratitude. Having behaved in a very exemplary manner during four years and a half, Friend Hopper, at his earnest request, applied to the Governor to have all the rights of citizenship restored to him. This was readily obtained by a full and candid statement of the case. It is entered on the Record, with this remark: "C.R. has experienced a wonderful change for the better since he first called upon us. He said he should always remember the kindness that had been extended to him, and hoped he should never do anything to make us regret it."

He afterward opened a store, with a partner, and up to this present time, is doing well, both in a moral and worldly point of view. Five years and a half after he began to reform, Dr. Russ, of New-York, sent a discharged prisoner to him, in search of work. He wrote in reply, as follows: "I have obtained good employment for the bearer of your note; and it gives me much pleasure at my heart to do something for him that wishes to do well. So leave him to me; and I trust you will be gratified to know the end of charity from a discharged convict." A week elapsed before the man could enter on his new employment; and C.R. paid his board during that time.

A person, whom I will call Michael Stanley, was sentenced to Sing Sing for two years; being convicted of grand larceny when he was about twenty-two years old. When his term expired, he called upon the Prison Association, and obtained assistance in procuring employment. He endeavored to establish a good character, and was so fortunate as to gain the affections of a very orderly, industrious young woman, whom he soon after married. In his Register, Friend Hopper thus describes a visit to them, little more than a year after he was discharged from prison: "I called yesterday to visit M.S. He lives in the upper part of a brick house, nearly new. His wife is a neat, likely-looking woman, and appears to be a nice housekeeper. Everything about the premises indicates frugality, industry, and comfort. They have plain, substantial furniture, and a good carpet on the floor. Before their door is a grass-plot, and the margin of the fence is lined with a variety of plants in bloom. He and his wife, and her mother, manifested much gratification at my visit."

In little more than two years after he began to retrieve the early mistakes of his life, M.S. established a provision shop on his own account, in the city of New-York, and was successful. He and his tidy little wife called on Friend Hopper, from time to time, and always cheered his heart by their respectable appearance, and the sincere gratitude they manifested. The following record stands in the Register: "M.S. called at my house, and spent an hour with me. He is a member of the Society of Methodists, and I really believe he is a reformed man. It is now more than four years and a half since he was released from Sing Sing; and his conduct has ever since been unexceptionable."

Another young man, whom I will call Hans Overton, was the son of very respectable parents, but unfortunately he formed acquaintance with unprincipled men when he was too young and inexperienced to be a judge of character. Being corrupted by their influence, he forged a check on a bank in Albany. He was detected, and sentenced to the State Prison for two years. When he was released, at twenty-two years of age, he did the best he could to efface the blot on his reputation. But after having obtained respectable employment, he was discharged because his employer was told he had been in prison. He procured another situation, and the same thing again occurred. He began to think there was no use in trying to redeem his lost character. In this discouraged state of mind, he applied to the Prison Association for assistance. Inquiries were made of the two gentlemen in whose employ he had been more than a year. They said they had found him capable, industrious, and faithful; and their distrust of him was founded solely on the fact of his being a discharged convict. For some time, he obtained only temporary employment, now and then; and the Association lent him small sums of money whenever his necessities required. At one time, he was charged with being an accomplice in a larceny; but upon investigation, it was ascertained that he had become mixed up with an affair, which made him appear to disadvantage, though he had no dishonest intentions in relation to it. Finally, through the influence of the Association he obtained a situation, in a drug store. His employer was fully informed concerning his previous history, but was willing to take him on trial. He remained there five years, and conducted in the most exemplary manner. Having married meanwhile, he was desirous to avail himself of an opportunity to obtain a higher salary; and the druggist very willingly testified that his conduct had been entirely satisfactory during the time he had been with him. But in about eight months, his new employer discovered that he had been in prison, and he immediately told him he had better procure some other situation; though he acknowledged that he had no fault to find with him. Friend Hopper sought an interview with this gentleman and represented the youthfulness of H.O. at the time he committed the misdemeanor, which had so much injured the prospects of his life. He urged his subsequent good conduct, and the apparent sincerity of his efforts to build up a reputation for honesty. He finally put the case home to him, by asking how he would like to have others conduct toward a son of his own, under similar circumstances. It was a point of view from which the gentleman had never before considered the question, and his mind was somewhat impressed by it; but his prejudices were not easily overcome. Meanwhile, the druggist was very willing to receive the young man back again; and he returned. It seems as if it would have been almost impossible for him to have avoided sinking into the depths of discouragement and desperation, if he had not received timely assistance from the Prison Association. How highly he appreciated their aid may be inferred from the following letter to Isaac T. Hopper:

"My dear friend, as business prevents me from seeing you in the day-time, I take this method to express my thanks for the noble and generous mention made of me in your remarks before the Association; which remarks were as pleasant and exciting to me, as they were unexpected. I need scarcely assure you, my kind and generous friend, (generous not only to so humble an individual as myself, but to all your fellow creatures,) that it is out of my power to find words to thank you adequately, or to express my feelings on that occasion. I was the more gratified because my dear wife was present with me, and also my brother-in-law. Oh, what a noble work the Society is engaged in. My most fervent prayer is that your name may remain on its list for many years to come. Then indeed should I have no fears for those poor unfortunates, whose first unthinking error places them unconditionally within the miasma of vice and crime. That you may enjoy a very merry Christmas, and many happy New-Years, is the sincere desire of my wife and myself."

T.B., who has been for several years in the employ of the Association, was raised by their aid from the lowest depths of intemperance, and has become a highly respectable and useful citizen.

J.M., who was in Sing Sing Prison four years, for grand larceny, was aided by the Association at various times, and always repaid the money precisely at the appointed day. His industry and skilful management excited envy and jealousy in some, who had less faculty for business. They taunted him with having been a convict, and threw all manner of obstacles in the way of his making an honest living.

Among other persecutions, a suit at law was instituted against him, which cost him seventy-five dollars. The charge was entirely without foundation, and when brought before the court, was promptly dismissed. It is now about six years since J.M. resolved to retrieve his character, and he still perseveres in the right course.

Ann W. was an illegitimate child, and early left an orphan. She went to live with an aunt, who kept a boarding-house in Albany. According to her own account, she was harshly treated, and frequently taunted with the circumstances of her birth. At the early age of fourteen, one of the boarders offered to marry her, and induced her to leave the house with him. She lived with him some time, always urging the fulfilment of his promise; and at last he pacified her by going to a person, who performed the marriage-ceremony. She was strongly attached to him, and being a capable, industrious girl, she kept everything nice and bright about their lodgings. He pretended to have a great deal of business in New-York; but in fact his frequent visits to that city were for purposes of gambling. On one of those occasions, when he had been absent much longer than usual, she followed him, and found him living with another woman. He very coolly informed her that the marriage-ceremony between them was a mere sham; the person who performed it not having been invested with any legal authority. Thus betrayed, deserted, and friendless, the poor young creature became almost frantic. In that desperate state of mind, she was decoyed by a woman, who kept a disreputable house. A short career of reckless frivolity and vice ended, as usual, in the hospital on Blackwell's Island. When she was discharged, she tried to drown her sorrow and remorse in intemperance, and went on ever from bad to worse, till she became a denizen of Five Points. In her brief intervals of sobriety, she was thoroughly disgusted with herself, and earnestly desired to lead a better life. Being turned into the street one night, in a state of intoxication, she went to the prison called The Tombs, because its architecture is in imitation of the ancient sepulchral halls of Egypt. She humbly asked permission to enter this gloomy abode, in hopes that some of the ladies connected with the Prison Association would visit her, and find some decent employment for her. Her case being represented to Friend Hopper, he induced his wife to take her into the family, as a domestic. As soon as she entered the house, she said, "I don't want to deceive you. I will tell you everything." And she told all the particulars of her history, without attempting to veil any of its deformity. She was very industrious, and remarkably tidy in her habits. She kept the kitchen extremely neat, and loved to decorate it with little ornaments, especially with flowers. Poor shattered soul! Who can tell into what blossom of poetry that little germ might have expanded, if it had been kindly nurtured under gentle and refining influences? She behaved very well for several months, and often expressed gratitude that she could now feel as if she had a home. Friend Hopper took great interest in her, and had strong hopes that she would become a respectable woman. Before a year expired, she relapsed into intemperate habits for a time; but he overlooked it, and encouraged her to forget it. As she often expressed a great desire to see her cousins in Albany, he called upon them, and told the story of her reformation. They sent some little presents, accompanied with friendly messages, and after a while invited her to visit them. For a time, it seemed as if the excursion had done her good, both physically and mentally; but the sight of respectable relatives, with husbands and children, made her realize more fully the utter loneliness of her own position. She used opium in large quantities, and had dreadful fits in consequence. Sometimes, she stole out of the house in the evening, and was taken up by the police in a state of intoxication. When she recovered her senses, she would be very humble, and during an interval of weeks, or months, would make an effort to behave extremely well. I forget how often Friend Hopper received her back, after she had spent the night in the Station House; but it was many, many times. His patience held out long after everybody else was completely weary. She finally became so violent and ungovernable, and endangered the household so much in her frantic fits, that even he felt the necessity of placing her under the restraining influences of some public institution. The Magdalen Asylum at Philadelphia consented to receive her, and after much exhortation, she was persuaded to go. While she was there, his daughters in that city called on her occasionally, at his request, and he and his wife made her a visit. He wrote to her frequently, in the kindest and most encouraging manner. In one of these epistles, he says: "I make frequent inquiries concerning thee, and am generally told thou art getting along _pretty_ well. Now I want to hear a different tale from that. I want thy friends at the Asylum to be able to say, 'She is doing _exceedingly_ well. Her health is good, she is satisfied with her condition, and we are all much gratified to find that she submits to the advice of her friends.' When they can speak thus of thee, I shall begin to think about changing thy situation. The woman who fills thy place in my family does very well. Every day, she puts on the table the mug thou gavest me, and she keeps it as bright as silver. Our little garden looks beautiful. The Morning Glories, thou used to take so much pleasure in, have grown finely. All the family desire kind remembrances. Farewell. May peace and comfort be with thee."

In another letter, he says: "Thy Heavenly Father has been kind, and waited long for thee; and He has now provided a way for thy redemption from the bondage under which thou hast suffered so much. I hope thou wilt not think of leaving the Asylum for some time to come. Thou canst not be so firmly established yet, as not to be under great temptation elsewhere. What a sorrowful circumstance it would be, if thou shouldst again return to the filthy and wicked habit of stupifying thyself with that pernicious drug! I am glad thou hast determined to take my advice. If thou wilt do so, I will never forsake thee. I will do all I can for thee; and thou shalt never be without a home."

Again he writes: "Thy letter occasioned joy and sorrow. Sorrow to find thou hast not always treated the matron as thou oughtest to have done. I am sure that excellent person is every way worthy of thy regard; and I hope my ears will never again be pained by hearing that thou hast treated her unkindly or disrespectfully. I did hope that after a year's discipline, thou hadst learned to control thy temper. Until thou canst do so, thou must be aware that thou art not qualified to render thyself useful or agreeable in any family. But after all, I am glad to find that thou art sensible of thy error, and hast a disposition to improve. When thou liest down at night, I want thee to examine the deeds of the past day. If thou hast made a hasty reply, or spoken impertinently, or done wrong in any other way, be careful to acknowledge thy fault. Ask thy Heavenly Father to forgive thee, and be careful to do so no more. I feel a great regard for thee; and I trust thou wilt never give me cause to regret thy relapse into vice. I hope better things for thee, and I always shall."

But his hopefulness and patience proved of no avail in this instance. The wreck was too complete to admit of repair. The poor creature occasionally struggled hard to do better; but her constitution was destroyed by vice and hardship; her feelings were blunted by suffering, and her naturally bright faculties were stupified by opium. After she left the Asylum, she lived with a family in the country for awhile; but the old habits returned, and destroyed what little strength she had left. The last I knew of her she was on Blackwell's Island; and she will probably never leave it, till she goes where the weary are at rest.