Within Prison Walls Being A Narrative Of Personal Experience During A Week Of Voluntary Confinement In The State Prison At Auburn New York

Author : Thomas Mott Osborne
Publisher : Theclassics.Us
ISBN 13 : 9781230336718
Total Pages : 72 pages
Book Rating : 4.3/5 (367 download)

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Download or read book Within Prison Walls; Being a Narrative During a Week of Voluntary Confinement in the State Prison at Auburn, New York written by Thomas Mott Osborne and published by Theclassics.Us. This book was released on 2013-09 with total page 72 pages. Available in PDF, EPUB and Kindle. Book excerpt: This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1914 edition. Excerpt: ... CHAPTER XIII A NIGHT IN HELL AS Captain Martin and I traverse the long stone passage leading from his office to the death chamber, I listen intently to catch any sound from the jail, for I am wondering whether or not I shall have any companions in misery; but nothing can be heard. Even when the Captain unlocks and opens the door on the right at the end of the passage and I step into the dungeon, there is no indication of any other inhabitants. Except for our own movements the silence is complete, although there is a peculiar reverberation of the vaulted roof which reechoes every sound we make. I am aware of a sort of uncanny feeling about the place, as though there were some sort of living creature--man, ape, or devil--in every cell, with his face close to the bars, peering through and holding his breath. The Captain, going to a locker which is at Jiis left, backing against the iron wall of the first cell, opens it and takes out a shirt, trousers, coat, cap, and a pair of felt shoes. "Take off your clothes and put these on," he says briefly. I take the clothes as he hands them to me and place them upon a bench at my right, where I also sit and proceed to make the required change. If these are the clothes which have been carefully washed and cleaned for me, I should like to examine--at a safe distance--the ordinary ones. They must be filthy beyond words. And I suppose no one but a prisoner ever wonders or cares about the condition of the last man who wore them. I take off my gray uniform, shirt and shoes, and as I stand in my underclothes the Captain feels me all over from head to toes to find out whether I have concealed about me a weapon or instrument of any kind. I presume the idea is to guard against suicide. After I have been...