SEARC'S WEB GUIDE - Anonymous (circa. 1869)

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Searc's Web Guide to 19th Century Ireland - Anonymous Pamphlet (circa. 1869)

In 1869 an anonymous pamphlet Things Not Generally Known Concerning England's Treatment of Political Prisoners was published in Dublin by The Irishman newspaper. It is a unique account of the conditions experienced by Fenian prisoners in Mountjoy, Pentonville and Portland Prisons in the 1860's. The anonymous author of this pamphlet was himself imprisoned in Portland Prison at the time of Thomas Clarke Luby, John O'Leary and Charles Kickham's imprisonment therein. In the pamphlet he points out that little changed in that prison after the publication of a Royal Commission's Report in February, 1866 when Messrs Pollock and Knox reported on the conditions endured by the Fenian prisoners. Things Not Generally Known Concerning England's Treatment of Political Prisoners is republished here for the first time. ©

It is not generally known that in Portland we were located in iron cells, seven foot by four foot, with stone floors, while the criminals had boarded floors. The two small panes of 'dead light' glass which formed the window were purposely muffed or lightly coated with white paint to add to the gloom of these living sepulchres.
Those who were located in the opposite side of the hall were in such a state of darkness that we could not read even on the brightest day without the aid of a candle - no, nor even lace our boots - as the cell windows of 'dead light' glass opened on the hall instead of the yard; so that we were deprived of the advantage of reading till the season came with serving the prisoners with candles.
We were confined in those cells from half-four pm, on Saturday, till seven o'clock am on Monday, with the exception of one hour's exercise on Sunday, and while we were at prayers, when we got a chaplain.
The rain came through those cells so freely that it flowed out under the cell doors. On several nights we had to get up out of bed and gather the bed-clothes about us in a corner of the cell. It was quite a usual thing, after a night's rain, to have to send our sheets, sopping wet, to the drying-room. The matter was reported to the prison officials, and the usual entries made in divers books, which, however, did not prevent the rain from coming in or the prisoners from getting drenched in their beds! All this was scarcely calculated for improving the health of the political prisoner.
The reason that our cells were flooded whenever there was a fall of rain was, we were on the ground floor, and the prison being built of wood, the water came in where the wood and stone met (which was on a level with the iron-sheeted roof of the cell), and turned our dungeons into regular shower-baths. Each of those cells was furnished with the following utensils, all of which were taken out of stores thickly oxidised - one zinc gallon for water, one zinc urinal and zinc washing-basin, a tin knife and tin candlestick, a tin snuffers, a tin save-all, a tin extinguisher, a tin plate and tin pint. These had to be burnished three times a day, and because we hadn't them bright as silver after the first two or three days, we were grossly abused by the gaolers, Bates and Gunning, morning, noon and night in the presence of all the criminals in the hall.
If we used our urinals in our cells on Sundays we were abused and reported to the principle gaoler. Yet we would not be allowed to go to the closet, though at the end of the hall. But here prison rules are everything and the laws of nature nothing.
We were required to keep this tin shop in order with two pieces of dirty flannel, which generally consisted of the seat of a worn out drawers or tail of a shirt. Pause here and reflect. After we had been there for a few days we asked for a separate set of rags to clean our pints and plates, but we were told we should do with those we had - that we would get no others. So that we were expected to wipe and polish the pint we drank out of and our urinal with the same rag.
It was a grave offence, sufficient to warrant a gaoler in abusing and reporting us, to have our urinals dull, or our cleansing rags where the governor could see them when he visited our cells. For at least three months the gaolers made the polishing of those tin and zinc vessels a pretext for abusing us collectively and individually, both in the prison and out on the 'works' - all day and every day.
All who have been accustomed to use zinc vessels know that they get tarnished by the least damp, and that the smallest drop of water leaves a white spot on the vessel, in other words produces oxide of zinc.
Just imagine the state the vessels would be in after a night's rain, and the amount of polishing they'd require to give them the necessary burnish, which had to be done before you left the cell for labour. It was no excuse that your cell had been flooded with water during the night, or that you had not two hours consecutive sleep. So damp were the cells in Portland that our salt was always in a liquid state. This will give you some idea of the labour we had to keep those vessels in order.
© Searc's Web Guide 1997-2008.

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