Pennsylvania miscreants of the 18th century could expect to serve out their sentences in overcrowded, disease-ridden prisons, typically awaiting either public humiliation or public execution. But out of such abhorrent conditions came the birth of one of Philadelphia’s most notorious landmarks.
The Eastern State Penitentiary stands forebodingly near the corner of Fairmount and 22nd Streets. The castle-like structure, built in the early 19th century, was innovative in its time for both its architectural design and its emphasis on prisoner reform and rehabilitation. While today most Penn students know the prison as a must-see Halloween attraction, 100 years ago it was a first-of-its-kind experiment in criminal justice.
Like much of Philadelphia history, the story of Eastern State began with Ben Franklin, as visitors who take a guided tour of the premises will quickly learn. Enlightened thinkers, including the city’s favorite forefather, turned their attention towards creating a justice system that would not simply punish criminals, but also rehabilitate them. According to Eric Schneider, a former history professor and current Associate Director for Academic Affairs for the College, Quakers in the Mid-Atlantic states (and especially those in Philadelphia) were at the forefront of this movement.
In 1787, a group of prominent Philadelphians started to convene in Franklin’s home, calling themselves the Philadelphia Society for Alleviating the Miseries of Public Prisons. Schneider explained that among the Quaker ideals that influenced them was the belief that human beings possess an inner light that enables them to repent and change their ways. Accordingly, group members wanted to develop a prison system that allowed for spiritual reform. And so the Society proposed a radical answer: solitary confinement. Members believed that solitude would turn prisoners’ thoughts inward upon themselves and inspire penitence — contact with other prisoners, guards or visitors would only distract them from spiritual reflection. In fact, this central aim of inspiring penitence is the derivation of the word “penitentiary.”
After laborious lobbying efforts on the part of the Society, the Pennsylvania State Legislature agreed to fund the construction of what would become the Eastern State Penitentiary. A contest was promptly staged to determine the design of the new prison. John Haviland beat out three other architects with his innovative vision that placed cell blocks around a central circular room, forming a layout similar to spokes protruding from the axle of a wheel. Governments throughout the world began imitating the design, known as a panopticon, which is still used in modern prisons today. What’s more, at a time when even the president used a chamber pot and the wealthiest families relied on coal-burning stoves to heat their homes, Eastern State boasted indoor plumbing and central heating systems. All told, upon its completion, the Penitentiary was the largest and most expensive building to be constructed in the U.S. up to that time.
But it wasn’t just technological innovation or architectural genius that made Eastern State significant. The prison embodied a bold new experiment in criminal justice — its every detail was designed to promote spiritual reflection through unmitigated solitude. When the prison opened in 1829, each prisoner had his own cell, an eight-by-twelve foot room furnished with a bed, work table and cast iron toilet. The prisoners’ only respite from these cells came during two daily half-hour breaks, when they were allowed to exercise in confined courtyards. On the rare occasions when they were taken out of their cells, prisoners were forced to wear hoods to minimize interaction with overseers or other inmates. They received food through a small slot in the cell wall and were provided with one piece of reading material: a Bible. Moreover, guards enforced a strict code of silence. The walls between each cell were 20 inches thick, preventing surreptitious communication between inmates. Punishments for breaching the silence policy could be as severe as the use of strait jackets.
This model of prisoner discipline, known as the Pennsylvania System, spawned controversy from its very beginning. Many were disgusted by what they perceived to be an inhumane experiment in criminal justice. According to Francis Dolan, the current site manager at Eastern State, it is difficult to determine the psychological effects that solitary confinement had on prisoners. “Since no type of mental health examination was given to prisoners upon entrance to Eastern State, it is entirely possible that many were already in an unstable mental condition prior to admittance,” he said. “That might have been the reason they committed the crime in the first place.” That said, there were certainly cases of prisoners leaving Eastern State in unstable mental condition, Dolan added. Since there was little networking between prisons and no systematic documentation of inmates, there was also no way to keep track of what happened to them after they left the Penitentiary. “A prisoner might be released from Eastern State and end up in prison in New Jersey six months later and there would be no way of knowing,” he said. “That made it really difficult to determine if the prisoner’s time in Eastern State had really reformed [him].”
Beginning in the 1880s, the Pennsylvania System slowly began to fall out of favor at Eastern State, and by 1913 it had been officially abandoned. According to Dolan, this was due more to operational issues than to humanitarian concerns. “Running a prison under the Pennsylvania System was just too expensive and inefficient,” he said. Even after ending the policy of solitary confinement, the state could not afford the upkeep of Eastern State. As conditions worsened, the prison witnessed an increasing number of escape attempts and riots. The most famous incident occurred in 1945, when 12 men, including infamous bank robber Willie Sutton, escaped through a tunnel that exited at Fairmount and 22nd streets. Sutton and the other escapees were all found and returned to the prison shortly after their breakout. Indeed, out of the over 100 inmates who escaped from Eastern State over the years, only Leo Callahan, who scaled the East Wall with five other men in 1923, evaded recapture. In 1929, Eastern State briefly housed notorious gangster Al Capone after he was arrested in Philadelphia for carrying a concealed and unregistered .38 revolver. While there, Capone enjoyed special comforts not afforded other prisoners — his cell was furnished with oriental rugs, a painting and a sophisticated radio. Capone remained in Eastern State for eight months, after having his sentence cut short for good behavior.
The continued neglect of prison maintenance came to a head in 1961, when Eastern State witnessed the biggest uprising in its history, according to Sean Kelley, a
program director at the Penitentiary. “The idea of closing Eastern State had been voiced, but the revolt really sealed its fate and accelerated the whole process,” Kelley said. Nine years later, the last prisoners were transferred out of Eastern State, and the Penitentiary was formally closed. The abandoned prison quickly fell into ruin, until it was purchased by the City of Philadelphia in 1980. Though the government planned to demolish the structure to make room for commercial development, a group of architects and preservationists known as the Eastern State Task Force managed to make a case for the restoration of the Penitentiary.
Today the prison is a historic landmark. Visitors to the Penitentiary can take guided tours and stroll the cell block corridors for their very own small taste of 19th century justice. About 200,000 visitors venture inside its walls annually. In recent years, Eastern State has garnered a reputation as a haunted building, leading TV programs such as the Sci-Fi Channel’s Ghost Hunters, the Travel Channel’s Most Haunted Live and MTV’s FEAR to explore reports of ghost sightings on the premises. Each year, the prison is investigated by dozens of teams specializing in paranormal research. But according to Dolan, such claims are highly dubious. “Eastern State closed down less than 40 years ago, and we’re still in touch with many of the former inmates,” he said. “None of them ever experienced any kind of paranormal encounter, and some are actually quite offended by the glamorization of the Penitentiary as a haunted domain.”
Still, Dolan admitted that the Eastern State Penitentiary and its staff don’t do much to discourage the rumors. After all, the reputation is lucrative. Each Halloween season, the prison is converted into a full-fledged haunted house, complete with smoke machines, eerie noises and grotesquely costumed guards and inmates. The event, called Terror Behind the Walls, attracts a significant number of Penn students and was voted the #1 Haunted House of 2008 by AOL City Guide. While the haunted house is a Halloween hit, it is not designed to make light of the experiences of its former occupants. “The Terror Behind the Walls program never claims a connection to Eastern State,” said technical director Jason Ohlsen. “This was a real prison with real inmates, and we want to do our best to respect that.” But after visitors are thoroughly spooked, many want to know more. “We see increased attendances in October,” he said. “A lot of people come to the Terror Behind the Walls event and they feel psyched to come back and learn about the history of the prison.”
