The Horse Thief Who Challenged the Whole Jail to a Fight
Frank Clinefelter escaped during a jailbreak, got recaptured, and now the sheriff wants him declared insane—while he shadowboxes and calls out convicts from Cell No. 6.
Frank Clinefelter, the horse thief who escaped from the county jail at the time of the Blanck hold-up and was afterward caught, is insane, and Sheriff Van de Vanter has asked the superior court to have him examined. If he is insane, the sheriff says he should go to the asylum; if he is not, the prosecuting attorney intends to bring him to trial for stealing the Klinehart pony at Kent.
It is said that during the past few months Clinefelter has been on the border of insanity, and while it is not believed that his condition makes him a subject for an insane asylum, his mind is so unbalanced that he is not responsible for his actions. The crime for which he was arrested was committed on March 15, and when Deputy Prosecuting Attorney Morris asked him yesterday if he took the pony, he acknowledged that he had, but denied that he stole it. "I like horses," said the prisoner, "and I took that pony home with me in order that I could treat him."
"Why didn't you return the animal to its owner before night?" he was asked.
"Well, I tell you, I was treating him."
When Blanck set himself and eight other prisoners free, Clinefelter at once made for Kent, his former home, without attempting to hide himself from the hundreds of persons who were on the lookout for the fugitives. He was captured before he reached Kent and returned to the county jail. He now occupies cell No. 6 on the north side, and his actions, which resemble those of an overgrown and very foolish boy, are highly amusing to the convicts in the cage.
He stands about calling them names, then suddenly jumps to the center of the corridor, strikes the attitude of a cheap prizefighter, and challenges every person in the cage to come forward and battle with him. "If the convicts didn't know that he was out of his head," said Jailer Munro yesterday, "they would mob him."
Sheriff Van de Vanter yesterday swore to a complaint charging Clinefelter with insanity, and he will be examined before the judge this morning. If found to be sane, he will be tried at once for his crime.
“"I like horses," said the prisoner, "and I took that pony home with me in order that I could treat him."”
Nineteenth-century jails had almost no capacity to care for mental illness; Clinefelter's case was handled as a legal problem to be sorted out in court. Today, King County still struggles with how to treat people in crisis behind bars, and whether jail is ever the right place for them remains urgent.
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