The Melting Pot

by Barrie Jones

Chapter VIII. Henry describes Portland Prison’s cells, the classes of convicts and their perquisites, and the standard diet a convict could receive there.

The Dark Side of Convict Life (Being the Account of the Career of Harry Williams, a Merthyr Man). Merthyr Express, 12^th March 1910, page 5.

Chapter VIII

The separate cell in a convict prison is what the reception cell is in a local prison, that is, a prison set apart for the receiving of convicts; but this also is a place of punishment known as the “refractory penal cell.” These cells are different to others, having the window in the roof instead of at the back of the wall. There are no tables, stools, bedding, etc., as in other cells, but only two gutta-percha utensils. The entrance to these cells is through a long winding passage, and the doors, which are double, have, in addition to a lock, a heavy iron bolt. After being made ready to be employed on public works I was taken to another part of the prison known as C hall, and I was located in a corrugated-iron cell, something, similar to those mentioned in a previous chapter at Dartmoor. These cells are very closely packed, and only a thin partition separates one man from the other. There are something like two hundred of them in each hall, and there used to be six halls in Portland, excluding the infirmary and penal cells, which are, of course, built of Portland limestone, namely A hall, B hall, C hall, D hall, F south hall and F north hall, the two latter being much lighter than the others. A, the foul-smelling dungeons have been condemned, and owing to the country having made an advance towards civilisation, the cells are now sweeter, and an ounce more of fresh air is allowed to travel into the lungs of a convict.

There is one thing in connection with these cells which pleases the convicts, and that is, it is possible to converse one with another without being overheard, as the iron partition having partly rotted away by age, there are holes which are often used as telephones. What drives a man out of his mind, and then to the lunatic asylum, quicker than the silent system? I can well remember talking to a poor wretch in one of those cells, in 1899. He was undergoing a term of fourteen years, and our conversation drifted towards the prison diet. He had only began his sentence, like myself, and it happened that I was allowed tea, instead of porridge, by orders of the medical officer, but no convict, properly speaking, was allowed tea under the rules until he had served two years’ of his term, that is, until he had attained, by good conduct, the distinction of a second-class convict. There are four classes, and each convict has to pass through as many as his sentence permits. He will begin in the probation class, and will remain in it one year, after which he will, by good conduct, be promoted to the third class, allowed to earn a gratuity of twelve shillings, and to write and receive a letter, also a visit of twenty minutes’ duration for each nine-hundred and sixty marks he earns in this stage. One year, from the third to the second stage, in the latter he will receive, instead of porridge, one pint of tea, half-ounce of margarine and two ounces of extra bread (ten ounces) each day in the week, and also be permitted to earn a gratuity of thirty shillings. After another year, again he will be promoted to the first class, and allowed to earn a gratuity of three pounds. Then, if undergoing a term of twelve years or upwards, after serving seven years and six months he will be entitled to earn an extra half-crown per month in order to purchase luxuries for himself, such as oranges, apples, marmalade, jam, biscuits, and so forth, except tobacco and beer, which are strictly prohibited. A convict in a special class will be entitled to six pounds on his release, but only on condition that he joins a Prisoners’ aid Society. Perhaps when he is discharged he finds work, but his employers may be informed that he is a ticket-of-leave man, and at once he is turned into the streets to either beg or thieve. He may have a wife and several little ones, who have been, for years, waiting his return, and they, too, of course, have to suffer. Is not this rather hard? Such is truly the case, without varnishing it in the least.

To come back to my conversation with this man undergoing fourteen years. He told me one day, when talking about the diet, that his stomach was so weak that it would not take the porridge, so, wishing to do him a good turn. I managed to devise a way in which to share my tea with him without being seen, and this is what I did. I took an old letter I had received from home, and I screwed it up into the shape of a tundish. I then placed the small end through a hole in the iron partition, and, holding the paper tundish with the left hand, I poured the tea into it with the right; the man in the next cell, at the same time, holding his tin cup ready to receive the liquid. Thus, in this small way, I befriended my fellow-convict.

Before concluding this chapter, I will give a list of the dietary for convicts of the present time:- Breakfast, 10 ounces of coarse bread, with one pint of tea, or porridge, and half-an-ounce of margarine. Dinner, Mondays, 16 ounces of beans, 16 ounces of potatoes, 8 ounces of bread, and two ounces of fat bacon; Tuesdays, 6 ounces of boiled mutton, 16 ounces of potatoes, and 8 ounces of bread; Wednesdays, 1 pint of pork soup, 16 ounces of potatoes, and 8 ounces of bread; Thursdays, 6 ounces of boiled beef, 16 ounces of potatoes, and 8 ounces of bread; Fridays, 1 pint of vegetable soup, 16 ounces of potatoes, 8 ounces of brad; Saturdays, 16 ounces of suet pudding (beef without bone, as the lags call it), 16 ounces of potatoes, and 8 ounces of bread. Sunday’s diet is considered the worst diet of the week; it consists of 6 ounces of tinned beef, 16 ounces of potatoes, and 8 ounces of bread. In addition to thus a convict on hard labour is allowed two ounces of cheese for supper twice weekly. To speak fairly, in quantity the diets are enough for an ordinary man, but sometimes the quality leaves much to be desired.

To be continued….