AN ORIENTAL PRISON.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3502, 27 September 1882, Page 4

AN ORIENTAL PRISON.

(Macmillan's Magazine.)

The prison to which we were bound was once a palace of Ismail's, but after that plea-sure-loving potentate had by the offer "of a heavy bacshish of interest got loans large enough to build a few comfortable mansions elsewhere, the home he deserted was reserved for the reception of less fortunate rascals, less comfortably entertained in durance, vile. All sorts of offenders are confined here— debtors to the State, brawlers, the Arab epecies of burglar, coiners—all massed together, with no separation except of the sexes and of Europeans from Orientals. Abdul had assured me that no official permission was necessary to gain admission ; I had only to say that I hud brought food for the prisoners. And I was to be sure, said my wise guide, to distribute it myself, or else none of it would get beyond the officers. Abdul was right. Always employ an Arab to outwit an Arab. Sure enough, no sort of obstacle was offered us, so, followed by a crowd of old men, women, and children (relatives, I suppose, of the convicts) — ■wretched-looking creatures, crying the eternal cry for backshish, we wandered through several court-yards, passing here and there a vicious, hungry-looking soldier, into the centre court-yard of all. The sight that there met my eyes was beyond forgetting ; what T was yet to see was likely to make the impression more indelible. We were in a sort of ill-paved, ill-looking, ill-smelling square; on each side of the squaro was a large door, now thrown open, displaying an inner door of cross-barred wooden grating, and behind, ro\r upon row of miserable, hopeless faces. Already the old folk and children who had followed us had begun to pilfer from the bread panniers, and as sood as the prisoners caught sight of the food, the horrid clanking of chains grated upon my ears, loud cries and howls came from the gratings, and the faces at the apertures multiplied threefold. I could see the poor wretches struggling with one another for a place in front, the weakest, of course, going to the wall, the greediest and etrongest crushing forward. And such faces ! Most of them were revolting enough in themselves, and could well have spared the loathsomo environment that made them worse. On some, indeed, that scourge of the East, leprosy, had left its mark ; some were merely ill and hungry-looking ; the betterfavoured seemed to stay with their chains behind, for shame, perhaps. All the foremost cried out for the bread they saw, and scrambled and fought like wild' beasts for 6uch of the round cakes as escaped through the bars without being torn piece-meal in their passage. One or two of the officials volunteered to help us to distribute our doles; and of course inviolable Eastern custom demanded tbafc a little of the sorry stuff should disappear by the way into their

own capacious pockets. I tried to get one of these fellows—Jusef, as I had heard some of the prisoners call him—to deal out the bread in something like order, but order seemed impossible ; official authority stopped short outside the bare of the prisonhouse, while inside I could see some sturdy ruffians dealing blows to their fellows with rude whips and sticks, and even with their chains, driving them from the raised step that led to the door, cursing loudly. And while this din was in our ears, and we were feeding the wretches inside the bars, the unfortunates outside, who had followed us closely to this very holy of holies, were pilfering as fast as hands, big or little, could help them. Yes, big or little ; one tiny child, hbout five years old, stole three cakes before my eyes, was cuffed, hustled away, and returned in a minute to steal a fourth from my left hand, while her mother was snatching from my right. The cigarettes produced almost equal excitement, and were hugged by the happy possessors almost as eagerly as the bread. And now that my stock of provisions was exhausted, I thought I had seen enough for once, and proceeded to make my way out of the vile den. As I was moving off, one of the officials blandly asked for backshish, in reply to which I used all the few Arabic indignant expletives I knew, and failing that, French, and when that, also, came too slowly for my indignation, I found relief in native English.