(_For the Mirror._)
Most of the Portuguese prisons are horrible in the extreme; and it is
utterly impossible for the most hardy individuals, who have the
misfortune to be long confined within them, to preserve their health
from ruin.
The famous prison of the _Limoeiro_, at Lisbon, is a dreadful place of
durance. It is situated on one of the mountainous streets in the
Portuguese metropolis, and was formerly the archbishop's palace. A vast
proportion of the crimes committed in the city are plotted between the
persons confined within, and those without, the prison; for there is
nothing to prevent constant communication with the street through the
double iron-bars, so that an unchecked and unobserved intercourse is
maintained, much to the furtherance of crime. Through these bars all
sorts of food, liquors, raiment, weapons, &c. can be conveyed from the
street; and, indeed, through these bars the meals of the prisoners are
served. The prison is capable of containing about 700 people; the usual
number, however, is 400. The state of the apartments in which the
criminals pass their time is truly distressing. The stench is
overpowering; and though visitors remain in the rooms only a few
minutes, they often retire seriously indisposed. The expense of
maintaining the prisoners is 8,000 cruzados, or about 1,000_l_. per
annum. Of this sum, one-half is paid by the city, and the other by the
_Misericordia_, a benevolent association, possessing large funds from
various bequeathed estates. Nevertheless, the food appears insufficient;
it consists chiefly of a soup made of rice. The allowance of bread is
one pound and a half per day for four persons.