Distinctly Montana Magazine

D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • S P R I N G 2 0 1 6 76 Following his older brother, he came to Mon- tana in 1880, joining a survey party in Yellowstone before settling briefly in Miles City. ere, at 17, he signed a vigilante pledge in which 53 men swore to "se- lect and name such of the bad men of our commu- nity…as shall be dealt with by us, and…decide what we shall do with them, whether they shall be doomed to die or otherwise…" What motivated the 17-year-old Conley? A desire for justice? A reckless thirst for adventure? Or was he simply following the lead of his older brother who was also a signatory to the pledge? Conley soon found more conventional employment as a Miles City deputy sheriff. Four years later, delivering two prisoners to the territorial prison at Deer Lodge, Conley quit his deputy job and hired on as a guard. Statehood in 1889 turned the Territorial Prison into a state in- stitution. Conley went into partnership with financial backer Tom McTague, contracting to run the prison for the state. Anyone passing down Main Street in Deer Lodge today will see a stone wall with rounded turrets which might, to a small child, ap- pear to be Cinderella's castle. When Conley and McTague won the prison contract, they had an overcrowded, crumbling facility to deal with. e wall around the prison was a board fence which tumbled over in a strong wind. Under Conley, the new prison rose, built by the convicts themselves. Superintendent McCalman, who oversaw their work, observed, "All the prisoners, with but few exceptions…took as much personal interest in their labor as though they were well paid for it, instead of receiving a quarter of a pound of tobacco a week and the extra food necessary to perform heavy manual labor." ey also earned "good time," shortening their sentences. It was initially economic necessity, which led to this use of inmate labor, but as the years passed, Conley became convinced of the importance of labor in the health, morale, and rehabilita- tion of the convicts. ey built other state institutions, such as the hospitals at Warm Springs and Galen, and they put in 500 miles of Montana road. Naturally enough, use of convict labor was frowned on by the unions, and they were implacable in their dislike of Conley. He returned the sentiment. e unions had the Butte labor market so tightly sewn up that a man discharged from Deer Lodge had a hard time finding work. He believed that all inmates should be taught to read and write, and be taught some working skill. Besides physical labor required in ranch work, brickmaking, and construction, other skills could be acquired such as typing, cooking, and telegraphy. Conley wrote, "It is beyond comprehension to expect reformation by keeping men for indefi- nite periods of time in idleness and among evil associates, and then turn them loose upon society, softened in flesh and mind, hardened in nature and carrying the handicap incident to conviction for felony, with the expectation that… they will thereafter be able to cope with their fellow-men and become good and useful citizens. is, perhaps, is the strongest contradiction in Conley's charac- ter: An unalterable prejudice against the unions and an undimin- ished faith in rehabilitation of the inmates. And what about race? ough he did use a racial epithet so redolent of prejudice that it will not even be spelled out here, when a mother wrote to ask Conley to keep her incarcerated daughter away from the "colored inmates," he replied that this was impos- sible because "there is no color line in prison." In the matter of religion, Conley was as blunt as usual. In 1915, Governor Stewart appointed him as a delegate to the American Prison Congress. He declined the honor. "I attended a Prison Congress some 15 years ago, and they did not impress me as doing much good, as there was a lot of long-haired men, and short-haired women advocating reforming prisoners with prayer, and you know I am not very long on that prayer stuff." On the other hand, any religious group which wanted to distrib- ute tracts or offer services in the prison was allowed to do so, and for those prisoners living outside the walls, typically building roads, there were religious services in the camps once a month. When Elizabeth Nowell of Seattle wrote to him concerning a Deer Lodge inmate, Conley replied, "I note what you say in regard to 'Jesus spending His energies in behalf of this reform.' It seems to me times have changed since then, and that Jesus never did have anything to do with these people. However, if you care to spend your energies on this sort of person, you are perfectly welcome to do so." is unsympathetic reply did not deter Nowell, and when Con- ley became convinced that she was actually doing good work — not through prayer but by finding employment for ex-cons, he wrote Henry Ford, extolling her work and recommending his assistance on her behalf. e lengthy letter reads in part, "Mrs. Nowell has provided work for a multitude of discharged prisoners since taking up prison work…" Teddy "Blue" Abbott (author of the ultimate cowboy autobiogra- phy, We Pointed em North) wrote Conley, on behalf of a couple of men seeking work at the prison. Conley replied, "I care nothing for Cowley's annual reports mentioned the food, recreation and religious serices available to inmates working on distant road crews, but accepted no blame for the weather. Watch a film about the Old Montana Prison and Museum: www.distinctlymontana.com/prison162 DISTINCTLY MONTANA | DIGITAL

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