The streaming glitter of the avenue,The jewelled women holding parasols,The lathered horses fretting at delay,The customary afternoon blockade,The babel and the babble, the brilliant show—And then the dusky quiet of the nave.The pillared space, an organ strain that throbsMysteriously somewhere, a rainbow shaftShed from a saint's robe, powdering the spectral air,A workman with hard hands who bows his head,And there before the shrine of Virgin MaryA lonely servant girl who kneels and sobs.THE NEW GOSPEL IN CRIMINOLOGYBYJUDGE McKENZIE CLELANDTheMunicipal Court of Chicago began its existence December 3rd, 1906. Besides transacting civil business, it is the trial court for all misdemeanors as well as for all violations of city ordinances. The Maxwell Street criminal branch, where I presided for thirteen months, is on the West Side, about a mile from the City Hall, in what is known as the Ghetto District. This district—not more than a mile square—has between two and three hundred thousand inhabitants, of thirty different nationalities, many of them from the poorest laboring class. In one school district near the court, three and one-half blocks long and two blocks wide, there are fourteen hundred public school children, besides hundreds who attend parochial schools, and many who attend none.It is the Maxwell Street district of which a leading Chicago newspaper, afterward quoted inMcClure's Magazine, said: "In this territory murderers, robbers, and thieves of the worst kind are born, reared, and grown to maturity in numbers which exceed the record of any similar district anywhere on the face of the globe; murders by the score, shooting and stabbing affrays by the hundred, assaults, burglaries, and robberies by the thousand—such is the crime record each year for this festering place of evil which lies a scant mile from the heart of Chicago."Within a few days from my going into this court, I was confronted with the problem of what to do with violators of the city laws who had others dependent upon them for support. To impose a fine upon such persons would, if the fine were paid, ordinarily deprive the family of some of the necessaries of life. On the other hand, if the fine were not paid and the offender were committed to the House of Correction to work it out at the rate of fifty cents a day, not only would the family be deprived of their means of support during his imprisonment, but the defendant, when released, would be without employment or the ability then to provide for his family. I observed that frequently women whose husbands had been fined for beating them would go out and borrow money with which to pay the fine.It was very apparent that such proceedings operated most harshly upon the poor. A person able to pay a fine had comparatively little to fear if he violated the city laws, while inability to pay meant the loss of liberty twenty-four hours for each fifty cents of the fine and costs, which was nothing more or less than imprisonment for debt.In the Homes of the "Repeaters"Persons were often brought before me who had been imprisoned many times and who were no better but obviously much worse as a result of such treatment. I found upon investigation that the city contained a very large number of these persons, who were known as "repeaters," and that the time of the police and the courts was much occupied in re-arresting and recommitting them to the House of Correction. Upon examining the records of this institution, I found that of the nine thousand persons imprisoned the previous year because of their inability to pay the fines imposed,nearly one-half had been there from two to two hundred and one times each.Eighteen women had each served one hundred terms.I was therefore convinced that this method of "correction" was not only harsh and unjust to the families of such persons, but was of no value as a corrective to the defendants themselves.Startled by such disclosures, I resolved to study conditions at close range and went into the homes of some of these offenders against the law, taking with me interpreters, for the great majority of them were foreigners. In many of these homes poverty had done its worst. Every surrounding influence favored undesirable citizenship; every turn presented flagrant violations of the law; the tumble-down stairways, the defective plumbing, the overflowing garbage boxes, the uncleaned streets and alleys, all suggested that laws were not made to be enforced. Many of the unfortunates whom I saw thereregarded the law as a revengeful monster, a sort of Juggernaut that would work fearful ruin upon any one who got in its way, but otherwise was not a matter of concern. When I explained to them that the law was their friend and not their enemy, they did not appear to comprehend.In one place there was a broken-down woman with six children. Two of the children had been arrested for stealing coal from a car. The mother explained that her "man" was in the Bridewell sobering up from one of his frequent drunks and that they had no money to buy coal, which was plainly apparent. Here were children forced to become criminals because the law was helpless to correct their father."The House of Corruption"In substantially every case that I investigated, I found that, notwithstanding the efficient management of our work-house, the offender had come out a less desirable member of society than when he went in; his employment was gone, his reputation was injured, his will weakened, his knowledge of crime and criminal practices greatly increased. As one young girl expressed it: "It is not a House of Correction, but a House of Corruption."I decided, therefore, to try the plan of suspending over such offenders the maximum sentence permitted by law, and allow them to determine by their subsequent conduct whether they should lose or retain their liberty, with the full knowledge that further delinquency meant, not another trial with its possibility of acquittal or brief sentence, but summary and severe punishment. As a condition precedent to allowing such an offender his liberty, I required him to promise that he would not again indulge in the thing which was responsible for his wrong-doing. In the great majority of cases this was the use of intoxicating liquor; in some, the use of drugs or cigarettes, the patronizing of cheap theaters, or evil associates. I also required him for a time to report to me at regular intervals, usually every two weeks, when a night session of the court was held for such purpose, and to bring with him his wife or other witness who could testify to his subsequent conduct.Four Hundred Able Probation OfficersA serious difficulty then presented itself. I saw that as their numbers increased, it would become impossible for me to keep in personal touch with all these offenders. No parole law for adults, with its paid probation officers, exists in Illinois, and no funds for this purpose were available. I determined, therefore, to appeal to the business men of the district to serve as volunteer probation officers. Through the lawyers who practised in my court, I secured a list of nearly one hundred business and professional men who gladly consented to visit one or more defendants each month and report to me in writing upon blanks which I furnished them. The number of probation officers was subsequently increased to about four hundred, and their monthly reports were entered upon our special docket, which contained the necessary memoranda and history of the case made at the trial.Certainly no more valuable object lesson was ever presented to hustling, bustling, money-loving, pleasure-hunting Chicago than these doctors, lawyers, manufacturers, and merchants going into the homes of their poor and unfortunate neighbors and taking a genuine interest in their welfare. Here was the ideal probation officer, whose feeling for his ward was something more than chilly professional solicitude; and splendidly did these men do their work. Many of them did more than show a passing interest in the offenders assigned to them. They often gave them employment and encouraged them by increasing their wages from time to time. It was a common thing for substantial business men to appear in court and offer employment to persons whom they wished placed on probation, agreeing at the same time to report regularly as to their subsequent conduct.A typical illustration of this was shown in the case of a young man who had an old mother to support, and who had fallen into bad company which had led him astray. The gang had rented a flat where they caroused far into the night and were then wont to prey upon their neighbors' hen-roosts. Upon his promise to reform, he was placed on probation and given employment by Mr. S. Franklin, one of the largest manufacturers in the district, who not only afterwards raised his wages, but sent, with his compliments, a dozen handsome pictures to decorate the court-room. That was a year ago, and the other day this young fellow came to my downtown court room to exhibit, proudly, a new suit of clothes purchased with money withdrawn from his savings-bank account.Liquor Dealers Vote to CoöperateSoon after inaugurating my parole system, I invited the four hundred liquor dealers of the district to a conference in my court-room. My first appearance in the Maxwell Street Court had called forth violent opposition from many of the liquor dealers, who declared that my record as a teetotaler disqualified me from administeringjustice in that district. I was in some doubt, therefore, as to how my invitation would be received; but it was unanimously accepted, and the court-room was not large enough to accommodate the number that responded, so that it was necessary to hold three sessions. The audiences were picturesque and included men not entirely sober, but the great majority listened attentively while I explained my plan and requested that they coöperate with me to the extent of refusing to sell their wares to any person upon my parole list. I promised to furnish each saloon-keeper with such a list for his private reference only; and I gave warning that thereafter sales made knowingly to such persons would subject the seller to summary punishment.A number of the liquor dealers followed my address with remarks highly complimentary to the work being done, and a resolution pledging me their support was unanimously adopted. The same day, by a curious coincidence, the Women's Christian Temperance Union passed a similar resolution in another part of the city.All of the liquor dealers, with a very few exceptions, subsequently acted in entire harmony with the resolution. One, who caused the intoxication of a paroled defendant, was fined $50, which he paid; and no further trouble occurred.It must not, of course, be supposed that this parole plan was original with me in all its features. A number of States have passed laws for the probation of adult offenders, providing for official probation officers to visit and report upon the persons paroled; but no other court has adopted the plan of holding night parole sessions or has enlisted to so large an extent the services of the business men of the district. These were the two features which in my experience proved most effective in reclaiming the offenders.Record of Success Ninety-two Per CentDuring my thirteen months' term in the Maxwell Street Court, I tried upwards of eight thousand cases and placed upon probation 1,231 persons. The results were as gratifying as they were surprising, and won for the plan the sincere support and coöperation of the police department in the district, many of the officers assuring me that it had reduced crime one-half. Eleven hundred and thirty-four of the paroled offenders, or about ninety-two per cent., faithfully kept the terms of their parole, and became sober, industrious citizens. Substantially all of those who lapsed did so because they violated their pledge of total abstinence. None, with one or two trivial exceptions, afterward committed any offense against the law.At one time a number of young men were brought in charged with burglary, but after the evidence was heard the complaints were amended to petit larceny, and the defendants were given their liberty upon promising to go to work and obey the law. When I left the Maxwell Street Court on January 11, 1908, to try civil cases, the suspended sentences in all cases were set aside and the defendants discharged, and I felt some apprehension lest these young men, as well as many others, should, after all restraint was removed, return to their former ways. This fear has proved groundless, the percentage of lapses since January 11 being little, if any, greater than before. A report from the Police Department, covering the young men above referred to, has just been received by me. It reads as follows:"Driving team, O. K., habits good"; "driving team, sister says he is doing fine"; "driving express wagon for his father, doing fine"; "driving team, stays home nights and brings his money home"; "laboring for $2.00 per day. Mother says he is doing better"; "laboring for $2.00 per day, doing fairly well"; "drives buggy for —— Teaming Co., O. K."; "works for the —— R. R., steady ever since paroled."Because of the absence of express statutory authority, no person charged with a misdemeanor was released on parole except with the approval of the police and the State's attorney; but there were many cases where a parole was not given, in which I felt satisfied that it would have yielded good results. There were, however, upon our special docket, persons charged with larceny, embezzlement, wife abandonment, selling liquor to minors, malicious mischief, assault and battery, and other similar offenses; and except in the one or two cases referred to, which were of a minor nature, the defendants have shown their sincerity by their actions, and their conduct has in every case been exemplary and satisfactory.In one case, where the charge was larceny, the police assured me that the defendant had been arrested fifty times. It seemed such a desperate case that I gave him the longest term allowed by the law. After he had been in jail a few days, I discovered that his aged father and mother were sick and helpless, and needed his support. I set aside the judgment and allowed him his liberty upon the understanding that if he again violated the law he would be required to serve out the remainder of the term. He has since worked steadily and faithfully, although, when I went into his home one day upon learning that he had met with an accident, I found poverty and dirt enough to drive anybody to commit crime.In addition to the support of the police officers,the plan of releasing offenders on parole has had the influential backing of the members of the bar, including the assistant State's attorney, and also of the citizens of the district, who were practically unanimous in its endorsement. The manager of a large department-store assured me that shoplifting had practically ceased since a number of petty thieves had been put on probation under maximum suspended sentences. It would be impossible for me adequately to describe the gratifying surprises that came almost daily in my experience with these supposedly irreclaimable men and women. I found that they invariably grasped with desperate eagerness at a chance to reform, and the joy which they exhibited at the night sessions was oftentimes very pathetic. "We are happier than for years," and "We're having our honeymoon over" were the reports made again and again.Intense gratitude to the law for giving them "another chance" was the characteristic sentiment in nearly every case, and this feeling proved more powerful in bringing about their reformation than the fear of punishment.The Story of Jim the EngineerOne day I was hearing a robbery case, when Jim —— entered and modestly seated himself at the rear of the court-room. Jim was running a locomotive on the Burlington Road, and although he had recently married, was voluntarily laying off two days in the week in order that a fellow-engineer, who had a family to support, might have a show during the hard times. I motioned to my bailiff, and a minute later Jim was seated beside me on the bench, listening to the evidence in the robbery case. I well knew what was passing through his mind, for it was only ten months before that he had stood before the same bar, charged with crime, and it was then that he had promised me, whom he had never seen before, that if I would give him "another chance" he would turn over a new leaf and eschew crime and the society of criminals forever.This resolution followed a brief talk in my chambers after his trial. His record was not in his favor, and his picture hung in the rogues' gallery. His brother was then serving time, and he had two sisters dependent upon him for support. After I had briefly pointed out to him the folly of such a life as he was then leading, he quietly remarked: "No one ever talked to me that way before; my father is dead and my mother is dead, and I haven't a friend in this town." "Well," I replied, "you probably don't deserve one, the way you have lived, but if you will cut out liquor and go to work" (he had not worked for four months) "and take care of your sisters, you will have friends." He finally agreed that he would do this. "Now," I said, "if you don't keep your promise to me, you will get me into trouble with the officers." He said: "I will show you I can make good." He could not get a bondsman, and I let him go after he had signed his own bond.He went to work at a dollar a day at the first place he struck, and his wages have been raised four times. One day I had a letter from his sister saying that he had met with an accident. As soon as I adjourned court, I went to the hospital to see him. He said to me: "I will never take chloroform again." I asked, "Why not, Jim?" and he replied: "During this operation, while I was under the influence of chloroform, it seemed to me as if I was going from one saloon to another, and they tell me I didn't do a thing except holler for beer. You bet I will never touch chloroform again." After five weeks in the hospital, Jim, thanks to his fine constitution, pulled through, but the first day he went out on the street he was "picked up" by a vigilant "plain-clothes" man on suspicion of being implicated in a robbery, and spent several hours in jail. Truly the way of the transgressor is hard—not only while he is a transgressor, but for some time afterwards.Suspended Sentence versus the Gold CurePrejudice against any new method, no matter how successful, was not the only thing I had to contend with in carrying out my plan. Many members of the medical profession assured me that a habitual drunkard could not voluntarily leave liquor alone; that his stomach was in such a condition from the use of alcohol that he must first be given medical treatment before any hope of his reform could be entertained. "Gold Cure" specialists haunted me day and night with offers of free treatment for those on my parole list, all of which I respectfully declined for the reason that several persons who had taken such "cures" without effect had, under the influence of a suspended sentence, become entirely sober and remained so. Many, in fact, were upon the verge of delirium tremens when brought into court, but none were too far gone to be restored.The Effect on the ChildrenThe proper operation of adult probation will, in my judgment, abolish to a considerable extent the necessity for the Juvenile Court, which has become a new and efficient though expensive institution in a number of States.Several months ago a man was brought into my court charged with abandoning his family. Iinvestigated and found that there were five children; that a petition was pending in the Juvenile Court to take them away from their mother and father; that the mother was a confirmed drunkard, spending her time in saloons and dance-halls; and that the father, although himself an habitual drunkard and loafer, refused to associate longer with his wife or to live with her. I put them both upon probation, giving them clearly to understand that a single infraction of their promise meant six months in the Bridewell. The man went to work and he is now making $13.50 a week. They have moved out of the basement they occupied into a comfortable flat. The petition in the Juvenile Court has been dismissed, and the children are clean and wholesome-looking and go to school.A few months ago the Chicago newspapers reported that the Juvenile Court had taken six children from a filthy basement and had distributed them among the charitable institutions. The report stated that their mother was dead and that their drunken father had deserted them. I handed this clipping to a police officer and asked him to bring the man in. The officer found him in a saloon and made a complaint charging him with disorderly conduct. I sent him to the Bridewell to sober up and receive treatment for alcoholism, and after he had been there four weeks I set aside the order and put him on parole upon his promise to stop drinking and go to work. I told him that as soon as he satisfied me that he could make good, I would ask Judge Tuthill of the Juvenile Court to restore his children to him; and when I last heard from him he was hard at work, keeping his promise and fixing up a home for his children.The Criminal's "Debt" to Society OverpaidThat a suspended sentence should be of greater value in bringing about the reformation of a criminal than a prison term is, I believe, reasonable and logical. When the criminal has served his sentence, his supposed debt to society is paid. If he commits another crime, he does so with the chance, in his favor, of a possible acquittal, a "hung" jury, a light sentence, or a reversal upon appeal. He is consequently willing to take risks which he would not take were the consequences sure and severe. The most important element in the defendant's reformation, however, is his avoidance of the physical, mental, and moral injury which he would suffer by serving his prison sentence. In these days, when practically every applicant for a position must present references of previous service, a prison term means ruin. If at the end of his term he is reformed, his reformation is of no value in obtaining employment. Prison sentences did not have this effect a hundred years ago, but times have changed. Every released convict is a shrinking coward, fearful that each person he meets knows his record. The new, plain suit of clothes he is given upon leaving prison is worn only until he can find a secondhand clothing store where it may be exchanged for something less good, but clothed in which he will have a trifle less fear of identification. If he succeeds in getting employment by changing his name and concealing his past, he lives in mortal terror lest his deception be discovered.It is a fundamental principle of the law that no man can be punished more than once for the same offense. His "debt" to society is presumed to be conclusively paid when his term of imprisonment expires; and yet under present conditions his real punishment is then only beginning. I have just finished reading a twenty-three-page letter from an ex-convict, who eighteen years ago completed a seven months' term. He tells in a simple and pathetic fashion of his efforts to escape from his prison record, but time and time again, just as he had won the confidence of his employer, some one happened along who "gave him away," and then he was obliged to move and try it again. Never, during all this time, has he dared to attempt to vote, or take any part in public or social affairs. Surely a fearful penance for one violation of the law, especially when we know that thousands of wealthy and influential lawbreakers are never punished!If an ex-convict has a family, he returns from prison to find them impoverished, shunned by their neighbors, his children scorned and sneered at by their schoolmates—everything worse, more helpless, than when he left them. All of this, and much more, is escaped by the man under a suspended sentence; his capital is unimpaired, and by "making good" his record will be cleared.That many, perhaps a majority, of criminals can be wholly reformed without imprisonment, through the means of a suspended maximum sentence, with little or no expense to the State, I am satisfied beyond a doubt; and this will be done when we can eliminate from the treatment of criminals the desire for revenge and look only to the good of the individual and of society.
The streaming glitter of the avenue,The jewelled women holding parasols,The lathered horses fretting at delay,The customary afternoon blockade,The babel and the babble, the brilliant show—And then the dusky quiet of the nave.The pillared space, an organ strain that throbsMysteriously somewhere, a rainbow shaftShed from a saint's robe, powdering the spectral air,A workman with hard hands who bows his head,And there before the shrine of Virgin MaryA lonely servant girl who kneels and sobs.
The streaming glitter of the avenue,The jewelled women holding parasols,The lathered horses fretting at delay,The customary afternoon blockade,The babel and the babble, the brilliant show—And then the dusky quiet of the nave.The pillared space, an organ strain that throbsMysteriously somewhere, a rainbow shaftShed from a saint's robe, powdering the spectral air,A workman with hard hands who bows his head,And there before the shrine of Virgin MaryA lonely servant girl who kneels and sobs.
TheMunicipal Court of Chicago began its existence December 3rd, 1906. Besides transacting civil business, it is the trial court for all misdemeanors as well as for all violations of city ordinances. The Maxwell Street criminal branch, where I presided for thirteen months, is on the West Side, about a mile from the City Hall, in what is known as the Ghetto District. This district—not more than a mile square—has between two and three hundred thousand inhabitants, of thirty different nationalities, many of them from the poorest laboring class. In one school district near the court, three and one-half blocks long and two blocks wide, there are fourteen hundred public school children, besides hundreds who attend parochial schools, and many who attend none.
It is the Maxwell Street district of which a leading Chicago newspaper, afterward quoted inMcClure's Magazine, said: "In this territory murderers, robbers, and thieves of the worst kind are born, reared, and grown to maturity in numbers which exceed the record of any similar district anywhere on the face of the globe; murders by the score, shooting and stabbing affrays by the hundred, assaults, burglaries, and robberies by the thousand—such is the crime record each year for this festering place of evil which lies a scant mile from the heart of Chicago."
Within a few days from my going into this court, I was confronted with the problem of what to do with violators of the city laws who had others dependent upon them for support. To impose a fine upon such persons would, if the fine were paid, ordinarily deprive the family of some of the necessaries of life. On the other hand, if the fine were not paid and the offender were committed to the House of Correction to work it out at the rate of fifty cents a day, not only would the family be deprived of their means of support during his imprisonment, but the defendant, when released, would be without employment or the ability then to provide for his family. I observed that frequently women whose husbands had been fined for beating them would go out and borrow money with which to pay the fine.
It was very apparent that such proceedings operated most harshly upon the poor. A person able to pay a fine had comparatively little to fear if he violated the city laws, while inability to pay meant the loss of liberty twenty-four hours for each fifty cents of the fine and costs, which was nothing more or less than imprisonment for debt.
Persons were often brought before me who had been imprisoned many times and who were no better but obviously much worse as a result of such treatment. I found upon investigation that the city contained a very large number of these persons, who were known as "repeaters," and that the time of the police and the courts was much occupied in re-arresting and recommitting them to the House of Correction. Upon examining the records of this institution, I found that of the nine thousand persons imprisoned the previous year because of their inability to pay the fines imposed,nearly one-half had been there from two to two hundred and one times each.Eighteen women had each served one hundred terms.I was therefore convinced that this method of "correction" was not only harsh and unjust to the families of such persons, but was of no value as a corrective to the defendants themselves.
Startled by such disclosures, I resolved to study conditions at close range and went into the homes of some of these offenders against the law, taking with me interpreters, for the great majority of them were foreigners. In many of these homes poverty had done its worst. Every surrounding influence favored undesirable citizenship; every turn presented flagrant violations of the law; the tumble-down stairways, the defective plumbing, the overflowing garbage boxes, the uncleaned streets and alleys, all suggested that laws were not made to be enforced. Many of the unfortunates whom I saw thereregarded the law as a revengeful monster, a sort of Juggernaut that would work fearful ruin upon any one who got in its way, but otherwise was not a matter of concern. When I explained to them that the law was their friend and not their enemy, they did not appear to comprehend.
In one place there was a broken-down woman with six children. Two of the children had been arrested for stealing coal from a car. The mother explained that her "man" was in the Bridewell sobering up from one of his frequent drunks and that they had no money to buy coal, which was plainly apparent. Here were children forced to become criminals because the law was helpless to correct their father.
In substantially every case that I investigated, I found that, notwithstanding the efficient management of our work-house, the offender had come out a less desirable member of society than when he went in; his employment was gone, his reputation was injured, his will weakened, his knowledge of crime and criminal practices greatly increased. As one young girl expressed it: "It is not a House of Correction, but a House of Corruption."
I decided, therefore, to try the plan of suspending over such offenders the maximum sentence permitted by law, and allow them to determine by their subsequent conduct whether they should lose or retain their liberty, with the full knowledge that further delinquency meant, not another trial with its possibility of acquittal or brief sentence, but summary and severe punishment. As a condition precedent to allowing such an offender his liberty, I required him to promise that he would not again indulge in the thing which was responsible for his wrong-doing. In the great majority of cases this was the use of intoxicating liquor; in some, the use of drugs or cigarettes, the patronizing of cheap theaters, or evil associates. I also required him for a time to report to me at regular intervals, usually every two weeks, when a night session of the court was held for such purpose, and to bring with him his wife or other witness who could testify to his subsequent conduct.
A serious difficulty then presented itself. I saw that as their numbers increased, it would become impossible for me to keep in personal touch with all these offenders. No parole law for adults, with its paid probation officers, exists in Illinois, and no funds for this purpose were available. I determined, therefore, to appeal to the business men of the district to serve as volunteer probation officers. Through the lawyers who practised in my court, I secured a list of nearly one hundred business and professional men who gladly consented to visit one or more defendants each month and report to me in writing upon blanks which I furnished them. The number of probation officers was subsequently increased to about four hundred, and their monthly reports were entered upon our special docket, which contained the necessary memoranda and history of the case made at the trial.
Certainly no more valuable object lesson was ever presented to hustling, bustling, money-loving, pleasure-hunting Chicago than these doctors, lawyers, manufacturers, and merchants going into the homes of their poor and unfortunate neighbors and taking a genuine interest in their welfare. Here was the ideal probation officer, whose feeling for his ward was something more than chilly professional solicitude; and splendidly did these men do their work. Many of them did more than show a passing interest in the offenders assigned to them. They often gave them employment and encouraged them by increasing their wages from time to time. It was a common thing for substantial business men to appear in court and offer employment to persons whom they wished placed on probation, agreeing at the same time to report regularly as to their subsequent conduct.
A typical illustration of this was shown in the case of a young man who had an old mother to support, and who had fallen into bad company which had led him astray. The gang had rented a flat where they caroused far into the night and were then wont to prey upon their neighbors' hen-roosts. Upon his promise to reform, he was placed on probation and given employment by Mr. S. Franklin, one of the largest manufacturers in the district, who not only afterwards raised his wages, but sent, with his compliments, a dozen handsome pictures to decorate the court-room. That was a year ago, and the other day this young fellow came to my downtown court room to exhibit, proudly, a new suit of clothes purchased with money withdrawn from his savings-bank account.
Soon after inaugurating my parole system, I invited the four hundred liquor dealers of the district to a conference in my court-room. My first appearance in the Maxwell Street Court had called forth violent opposition from many of the liquor dealers, who declared that my record as a teetotaler disqualified me from administeringjustice in that district. I was in some doubt, therefore, as to how my invitation would be received; but it was unanimously accepted, and the court-room was not large enough to accommodate the number that responded, so that it was necessary to hold three sessions. The audiences were picturesque and included men not entirely sober, but the great majority listened attentively while I explained my plan and requested that they coöperate with me to the extent of refusing to sell their wares to any person upon my parole list. I promised to furnish each saloon-keeper with such a list for his private reference only; and I gave warning that thereafter sales made knowingly to such persons would subject the seller to summary punishment.
A number of the liquor dealers followed my address with remarks highly complimentary to the work being done, and a resolution pledging me their support was unanimously adopted. The same day, by a curious coincidence, the Women's Christian Temperance Union passed a similar resolution in another part of the city.
All of the liquor dealers, with a very few exceptions, subsequently acted in entire harmony with the resolution. One, who caused the intoxication of a paroled defendant, was fined $50, which he paid; and no further trouble occurred.
It must not, of course, be supposed that this parole plan was original with me in all its features. A number of States have passed laws for the probation of adult offenders, providing for official probation officers to visit and report upon the persons paroled; but no other court has adopted the plan of holding night parole sessions or has enlisted to so large an extent the services of the business men of the district. These were the two features which in my experience proved most effective in reclaiming the offenders.
During my thirteen months' term in the Maxwell Street Court, I tried upwards of eight thousand cases and placed upon probation 1,231 persons. The results were as gratifying as they were surprising, and won for the plan the sincere support and coöperation of the police department in the district, many of the officers assuring me that it had reduced crime one-half. Eleven hundred and thirty-four of the paroled offenders, or about ninety-two per cent., faithfully kept the terms of their parole, and became sober, industrious citizens. Substantially all of those who lapsed did so because they violated their pledge of total abstinence. None, with one or two trivial exceptions, afterward committed any offense against the law.
At one time a number of young men were brought in charged with burglary, but after the evidence was heard the complaints were amended to petit larceny, and the defendants were given their liberty upon promising to go to work and obey the law. When I left the Maxwell Street Court on January 11, 1908, to try civil cases, the suspended sentences in all cases were set aside and the defendants discharged, and I felt some apprehension lest these young men, as well as many others, should, after all restraint was removed, return to their former ways. This fear has proved groundless, the percentage of lapses since January 11 being little, if any, greater than before. A report from the Police Department, covering the young men above referred to, has just been received by me. It reads as follows:
"Driving team, O. K., habits good"; "driving team, sister says he is doing fine"; "driving express wagon for his father, doing fine"; "driving team, stays home nights and brings his money home"; "laboring for $2.00 per day. Mother says he is doing better"; "laboring for $2.00 per day, doing fairly well"; "drives buggy for —— Teaming Co., O. K."; "works for the —— R. R., steady ever since paroled."
"Driving team, O. K., habits good"; "driving team, sister says he is doing fine"; "driving express wagon for his father, doing fine"; "driving team, stays home nights and brings his money home"; "laboring for $2.00 per day. Mother says he is doing better"; "laboring for $2.00 per day, doing fairly well"; "drives buggy for —— Teaming Co., O. K."; "works for the —— R. R., steady ever since paroled."
Because of the absence of express statutory authority, no person charged with a misdemeanor was released on parole except with the approval of the police and the State's attorney; but there were many cases where a parole was not given, in which I felt satisfied that it would have yielded good results. There were, however, upon our special docket, persons charged with larceny, embezzlement, wife abandonment, selling liquor to minors, malicious mischief, assault and battery, and other similar offenses; and except in the one or two cases referred to, which were of a minor nature, the defendants have shown their sincerity by their actions, and their conduct has in every case been exemplary and satisfactory.
In one case, where the charge was larceny, the police assured me that the defendant had been arrested fifty times. It seemed such a desperate case that I gave him the longest term allowed by the law. After he had been in jail a few days, I discovered that his aged father and mother were sick and helpless, and needed his support. I set aside the judgment and allowed him his liberty upon the understanding that if he again violated the law he would be required to serve out the remainder of the term. He has since worked steadily and faithfully, although, when I went into his home one day upon learning that he had met with an accident, I found poverty and dirt enough to drive anybody to commit crime.
In addition to the support of the police officers,the plan of releasing offenders on parole has had the influential backing of the members of the bar, including the assistant State's attorney, and also of the citizens of the district, who were practically unanimous in its endorsement. The manager of a large department-store assured me that shoplifting had practically ceased since a number of petty thieves had been put on probation under maximum suspended sentences. It would be impossible for me adequately to describe the gratifying surprises that came almost daily in my experience with these supposedly irreclaimable men and women. I found that they invariably grasped with desperate eagerness at a chance to reform, and the joy which they exhibited at the night sessions was oftentimes very pathetic. "We are happier than for years," and "We're having our honeymoon over" were the reports made again and again.
Intense gratitude to the law for giving them "another chance" was the characteristic sentiment in nearly every case, and this feeling proved more powerful in bringing about their reformation than the fear of punishment.
One day I was hearing a robbery case, when Jim —— entered and modestly seated himself at the rear of the court-room. Jim was running a locomotive on the Burlington Road, and although he had recently married, was voluntarily laying off two days in the week in order that a fellow-engineer, who had a family to support, might have a show during the hard times. I motioned to my bailiff, and a minute later Jim was seated beside me on the bench, listening to the evidence in the robbery case. I well knew what was passing through his mind, for it was only ten months before that he had stood before the same bar, charged with crime, and it was then that he had promised me, whom he had never seen before, that if I would give him "another chance" he would turn over a new leaf and eschew crime and the society of criminals forever.
This resolution followed a brief talk in my chambers after his trial. His record was not in his favor, and his picture hung in the rogues' gallery. His brother was then serving time, and he had two sisters dependent upon him for support. After I had briefly pointed out to him the folly of such a life as he was then leading, he quietly remarked: "No one ever talked to me that way before; my father is dead and my mother is dead, and I haven't a friend in this town." "Well," I replied, "you probably don't deserve one, the way you have lived, but if you will cut out liquor and go to work" (he had not worked for four months) "and take care of your sisters, you will have friends." He finally agreed that he would do this. "Now," I said, "if you don't keep your promise to me, you will get me into trouble with the officers." He said: "I will show you I can make good." He could not get a bondsman, and I let him go after he had signed his own bond.
He went to work at a dollar a day at the first place he struck, and his wages have been raised four times. One day I had a letter from his sister saying that he had met with an accident. As soon as I adjourned court, I went to the hospital to see him. He said to me: "I will never take chloroform again." I asked, "Why not, Jim?" and he replied: "During this operation, while I was under the influence of chloroform, it seemed to me as if I was going from one saloon to another, and they tell me I didn't do a thing except holler for beer. You bet I will never touch chloroform again." After five weeks in the hospital, Jim, thanks to his fine constitution, pulled through, but the first day he went out on the street he was "picked up" by a vigilant "plain-clothes" man on suspicion of being implicated in a robbery, and spent several hours in jail. Truly the way of the transgressor is hard—not only while he is a transgressor, but for some time afterwards.
Prejudice against any new method, no matter how successful, was not the only thing I had to contend with in carrying out my plan. Many members of the medical profession assured me that a habitual drunkard could not voluntarily leave liquor alone; that his stomach was in such a condition from the use of alcohol that he must first be given medical treatment before any hope of his reform could be entertained. "Gold Cure" specialists haunted me day and night with offers of free treatment for those on my parole list, all of which I respectfully declined for the reason that several persons who had taken such "cures" without effect had, under the influence of a suspended sentence, become entirely sober and remained so. Many, in fact, were upon the verge of delirium tremens when brought into court, but none were too far gone to be restored.
The proper operation of adult probation will, in my judgment, abolish to a considerable extent the necessity for the Juvenile Court, which has become a new and efficient though expensive institution in a number of States.
Several months ago a man was brought into my court charged with abandoning his family. Iinvestigated and found that there were five children; that a petition was pending in the Juvenile Court to take them away from their mother and father; that the mother was a confirmed drunkard, spending her time in saloons and dance-halls; and that the father, although himself an habitual drunkard and loafer, refused to associate longer with his wife or to live with her. I put them both upon probation, giving them clearly to understand that a single infraction of their promise meant six months in the Bridewell. The man went to work and he is now making $13.50 a week. They have moved out of the basement they occupied into a comfortable flat. The petition in the Juvenile Court has been dismissed, and the children are clean and wholesome-looking and go to school.
A few months ago the Chicago newspapers reported that the Juvenile Court had taken six children from a filthy basement and had distributed them among the charitable institutions. The report stated that their mother was dead and that their drunken father had deserted them. I handed this clipping to a police officer and asked him to bring the man in. The officer found him in a saloon and made a complaint charging him with disorderly conduct. I sent him to the Bridewell to sober up and receive treatment for alcoholism, and after he had been there four weeks I set aside the order and put him on parole upon his promise to stop drinking and go to work. I told him that as soon as he satisfied me that he could make good, I would ask Judge Tuthill of the Juvenile Court to restore his children to him; and when I last heard from him he was hard at work, keeping his promise and fixing up a home for his children.
That a suspended sentence should be of greater value in bringing about the reformation of a criminal than a prison term is, I believe, reasonable and logical. When the criminal has served his sentence, his supposed debt to society is paid. If he commits another crime, he does so with the chance, in his favor, of a possible acquittal, a "hung" jury, a light sentence, or a reversal upon appeal. He is consequently willing to take risks which he would not take were the consequences sure and severe. The most important element in the defendant's reformation, however, is his avoidance of the physical, mental, and moral injury which he would suffer by serving his prison sentence. In these days, when practically every applicant for a position must present references of previous service, a prison term means ruin. If at the end of his term he is reformed, his reformation is of no value in obtaining employment. Prison sentences did not have this effect a hundred years ago, but times have changed. Every released convict is a shrinking coward, fearful that each person he meets knows his record. The new, plain suit of clothes he is given upon leaving prison is worn only until he can find a secondhand clothing store where it may be exchanged for something less good, but clothed in which he will have a trifle less fear of identification. If he succeeds in getting employment by changing his name and concealing his past, he lives in mortal terror lest his deception be discovered.
It is a fundamental principle of the law that no man can be punished more than once for the same offense. His "debt" to society is presumed to be conclusively paid when his term of imprisonment expires; and yet under present conditions his real punishment is then only beginning. I have just finished reading a twenty-three-page letter from an ex-convict, who eighteen years ago completed a seven months' term. He tells in a simple and pathetic fashion of his efforts to escape from his prison record, but time and time again, just as he had won the confidence of his employer, some one happened along who "gave him away," and then he was obliged to move and try it again. Never, during all this time, has he dared to attempt to vote, or take any part in public or social affairs. Surely a fearful penance for one violation of the law, especially when we know that thousands of wealthy and influential lawbreakers are never punished!
If an ex-convict has a family, he returns from prison to find them impoverished, shunned by their neighbors, his children scorned and sneered at by their schoolmates—everything worse, more helpless, than when he left them. All of this, and much more, is escaped by the man under a suspended sentence; his capital is unimpaired, and by "making good" his record will be cleared.
That many, perhaps a majority, of criminals can be wholly reformed without imprisonment, through the means of a suspended maximum sentence, with little or no expense to the State, I am satisfied beyond a doubt; and this will be done when we can eliminate from the treatment of criminals the desire for revenge and look only to the good of the individual and of society.