Women of all classes are confined here; but beauty alone beams on the
prison-yard from the windows of its cell. At this moment of writing, I
hear voices from a room immediately below me; fair, the speakers
possibly may be, but--judging from the fitful scraps of conversation
that rise hither--they are assuredly _very_ frail.
I think one of the most exasperating circumstances of this house of
bondage, is the exceeding flimsiness of its defenses. Part of the
inclosure of both yards consists of tall, thin boarding, full of cracks
and crevices, that might be breached with no extraordinary exertion of
foot or shoulder; and there is hardly any part of the stronghold out of
which a man, of average ingenuity, armed with a common clasp-knife--if
unwatched--could not make his way in a couple of hours. But, unwatched
you never are. The passages are not more than thirty feet long, and
there is a sentinel in each who can hear almost every sound from within.
A State prisoner never stirs beyond his room, without an armed guard at
his shoulder.
I soon heard that my reverend neighbor on the right contemplated
evasion, and, considering his opportunities, I rather wondered at
finding him here. In every cell there is a small closet, corresponding
with those on the floor above and below.
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