Farmers Weekly Review

I am sure that almost all of us have had the experience of trying to tell a stranger where we are from, we mention that our county seat is Joliet. Almost immediately a light goes on in their eyes and the words Blues Brothers comes out of their mouths. Thanks to many different organizations, what once was the subject of negative comments has become a tourist attraction and a great example of preservation. That limestone building has thousands of stories to tell. This is only one of them. Our subject today is Mollie Brown.

In an 1892 book entitled “Behind the Bars at Joliet Prison,” by S. W. Wetmore, we get a glimpse of what the female portion of the Penitentiary looked like. “Their prison is completely isolated. It is up four flights of iron stairs and beyond a heavy door. The matron carries the keys, and when entrance is desired a bell is rung.”

“As the door swings open a broad hall, airy and spotlessly neat, is disclosed to view. Woven rag mats of various colors are placed at intervals upon the white scrubbed floors. At the right opens a large sun-lit room.”

“The women sit facing the long windows all day long, their chairs are in an even row, and they have great piles of stockings in their laps. With darning needles and raveled wool, they mend and repair heel and toe. It is terribly monotonous work, a dreary routine, a truly penitential task.”

“Opposite is the laundry. Washing is done every day. Next to the laundry is the dining room. The women sleep in dormitories, eight or ten cots in each. The beds are immaculate and the luxury of pillow shams is allowed.”
“Not even a prison can curb a woman’s vanity nor deprive her of the use of those little arts which contribute to personal adornment. Some of the female prisoners here have shown that a little feminine ingenuity can supply the want of toilet conveniences reasonably well.”

“One woman, whose hair was always dressed and shone with the luster of the finest oils, was a complete mystery to the other women until she revealed the fact that she skimmed the fat from her soup and, letting it cool, applied it as hair oil.”

“The prison dress is made of blue and white gingham; the skirts are plain and the waists do not fit with exactness. Each woman has three dresses, one of which is especially saved for Sunday, when a white apron and a neck-tie complete the chapel costume.”

“Bustles are not allowed, and the convicts always show great sorrow when compelled to part with this article of feminine gear. Loss of liberty and loss of bustles seem to be equal trials, although some of the bustles are composed of nothing but old newspapers or bits of bent or broken wire. Corsets are, however, allowed to those who desire to preserve a small waist beneath the baggy outlines of their dresses.”

This was the world that Mollie Brown entered in April of 1876 when she was incarcerated for larceny. By October she had had enough and after a visit from her lover, Bill Wray, she concocted a plan to escape.

Wetmore describes the attempt, “Mollie began by insulting the prison matron who locked her up in one of the punishment cells, which at the time was located in the northeast cell tower. In the cell was a narrow window protected by two small iron bars.”

“Mollie had been given a fine steel saw by Wray, and immediately began cutting the window bars. After several hours she succeeded, then tore her bed clothing into strips and made a rope some 35 ft. in length. She secured one end to the window frame and began to descend.”

“It was a cold raw night in October, she, clad only in the gingham dress, began her way down to freedom. She had arranged with Wray to be on the roof of the east cell house to assist her. But they made one fatal mistake; they supposed the window opened directly over the cell house roof, some 35 feet down, but instead, when she climbed down found her feet dangling in thin air.”

“She then made the fearful discovery that the window was above the prison yard, some 40 feet below. She tried to climb back up, but the rope fell apart and she dropped down, hitting a wooden partition on the way down.”

“Examination showed that she was still alive, though no one expected her to last long. But Mollie had too much nerve to die in prison, she was confined to her bed for nearly two years, before she could even get around on crutches.”

The Joliet Weekly Press, in their year-end issue in 1883 focusing on famous women prisoners, said of her, “Mollie recovered only to find herself a cripple. She was discharged in 1878, and has ever since been operating in St. Louis, New York, Philadelphia, and nearly all the other large cities.”

If the last was true, Mollie Brown was perhaps the original “unsinkable” Mollie Brown.