The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1896-11-21
A A living HE'LL ON EARTH
Such in Reality Is the Dread
Portland Prison in
England. =
, a.
No More Fiendish and Degrading
Spot Anywhere to Be.
Wv. -,'
Found.
rlen Are Horribly Tortured by
Devils in Human Form Out
of Revenge.

l A~SV~AASSs ~
Capt. Edward O'Meagher Condor, SUI
perlntendent of construction of the fire
department Of New; York City, was con
| tined for IL years in Portland prison
When released, says the New Haven Reg
lister, he was on the verge Of insanity
but rugged constitution enabled him to
rally. He was sentenced in Manchester
England, in 1867 to death, but this, al
therepeated demands of the United States
government, was commuted to imprison-
ment for life. After ii years Capt. Con-
don received his pardon and returned to
the country of which he was citizen
| DR.. Gallagher, who reached here two
weeks ago, is now almost hopelessly In
sane in q private sanitarium on Long Is
land and Albert Whitehead, released
from Portland at the same time, arrived
| here last week in the. same shattered
mentas condition. The horrors which the
men had endured during those years at
! Portland left them alive, but robbed
them of mind and any semblance to
| health. Rugged Irishmen as they were
with the blood of Erin's Isle running fresh
in their veins, they became poor. craw..-
ing, broken-down creatures, little, better
! than the lowest beasts. from the inhu-
maniries of their imprisonment
! Portland prison is situated upon an is
land. The Isle of Portland is promon-
| tory, one vast rocky cliff without vege-
tatlon and sheltered in no way from the
heat Of summer or the cold of winter.
| Both extremes are felt keenly. The is
laud, is properly speaking, a peninsula
for it is connected with the mainland by
! long, pebbly strip called Chesil Beach.
This is u miles long. 10 feet high and
100 yards wide. The island is about four
miles long and three-qVarters OF a mile
wide. It separates the English channel
from Portland harbor. Three sides are
inaccessibel from the sea, rising 400 feet
in 1njd-air. Upon one OF these cliffs the
prison is built. It's plan is such that es-
cape is, impossible. Not one escape has
been made within its history.
The journey from London to Portland
is $50 miles. The prisoners travel in re-
Voting ,garb,. packed together in cars
,aaal' K ed Reserved At the Portland
railway station they areq met, by. asfvan
marked "V. r., . and into this windoWless
vehicle they are hustled and jounced
along the rocky road to the prison. From,
the time Of setting out on their journey,
often, with its delays, Is hours before,
they have nothing to eat, and in this
hungry condition they arrive at their fu-
ture home, only to be stuffed into the
dirtiest of cells to await the further pleas
lre Of the keepers. Often no attention is
paid 70 them until next day. They are
left without food or drink or necessary
attention, and thus the ruddy-faced Irish
man gets his first taste of justice.
ioy, WHOM fhs aio1 ar md
to looking into the cases of the new arri-
walls he assigns them to cells. These cells
are mostly under ground. The one in
which Capt. Condor was confined for six
of the II years he spent in Portland was
under ground and without air or light In
the summer it was suffocating; in the
winter unspeakably cold and reeking with
filth. Between seasons the dampness was
SO great that mould accumulated upon the
floor and ceiling, which we're OF stone.
The walls and doors were of iron. The
furniture Of this cell consisted of tub.
In simplicity this was highly to be COM
mended, as it could be used as a table or
seat; or again as a bed, for the prisoner
could snatch sleep by placing his tub
against an angle of the wall. No notice
was taken of holidays, and thus immured
in living dungeon the prisoner lives as
best he>can.
When the convict closes his eyes at
night upon darkness and oblivion he
knows that he will awaken in the morn
ing still in darkness. No prisoner in
Portland has ever been awakened by the
morning sunshine.
AT 5 in the morning rough call is given.
A little later keeper stuffs in through
the door of the cell the breakfast. This
consists &of six ounces of barley bread. A
mug Of water accompanies this unsatisfy-
ing repast. At the men are led out to
the quarries, and there they stand all day
breaking stone without speaking word.
They are clad in the same garments all the
year around, and here they work in the
sWeltaring sun in summer and the biting
cold Of winter. All, without exception, are
burned a vivid red brick, and 1t has been
commented upon that the faces Of the
corpses that are brought from Portland
still preserve this awful reddish-brown, as
though the sun had roasted the flesh.
At noontime the guards relieve each
other, going back to the prison to dinner,
but the men have nothing to eat; and il
by chance any prisoner, thinking discipline,
a little relaxed, dares to raise his eyes
or stand erect a minute, he sees threat
ening gun leveled at him from the peaks
of the rocks. Portland is defended as
though it had national guard to fight,
instead of mere handful Of poor, puny,
half-starved creatures.
At night the procession goes back to
the prison again, the men limping and
tagging behind as their weary feet refuse
to carry them But the quick LASH Of the
guards upon their lace.ated limbs hastens
their steps. Into their cells they are driven
like cattle without water or food, Not
even the cheapest Of luxuries, a bath, is
allowed them. Into the cold, damp cells
they go and wait for the evening meai.
This is again the six ounces Of barley
bread with a pint Of Cruel. Three days a
week there is a little meat added. bad
smelling, ha1f-raw or oYercooked stuff,
but tasting delicious to the starving men.
The refuse from the officers tables is d.
rided up and given to the prisoners, and
by the miserable bits that reach them they
can tell when holidays arrive and when
the officials are having a feast. A neck Of
chicken, picked clean and boiled again fo1.
soup, but with a few poor rags hanging to
Eit,s told one of the olitica1 prisoners that
Christ dsy had come md g gone.
sSs4ss