LIFE IN CEUTA

Life is held cheap in Ceuta and indeed in all Spanish presidios and gaols. The saying "a word and a blow," may be expanded into "a word and a knife thrust." The possession of a lethal weapon is common to all prisoners and prevails despite prohibiting regulations. Fatal affrays are of constant occurrence. At Valladolid five men were wounded in a fight over cards, which were openly permitted. An official enquiry followed, with the result that on a search instituted through the prison, numbers of large knives were discovered and many smaller daggers.

It is pretended by the authorities that the introduction of such weapons as well as of spirits and packs of cards cannot be prevented. The gate keepers however exercise no vigilance or are readily bribed to shut their eyes. The ruinous condition of many gaols with their numerous cracks and openings and holes in the walls is partially responsible. As a natural consequence blood flowed freely when rage and unbridled passion were so easily inflamed and the means of seeking murderous satisfaction were always ready to hand. Quarrels grew at once into fierce fights which could not be prevented and must be fought out then and there even to the death. Chains and stone walls and iron bars were ineffective in imposing order. There could be no semblance of discipline where the two essentials were absolutely wanting, supervision and honest service in the keepers.

Knives were often provided by the ingenious adaptation of all kinds of material within the walls, such as one-half of a pair of scissors firmly fixed in a handle bound round with cloth; or a piece of tin doubled to form a blade and stiffened by two pieces of wood to keep the point sharp; or the handle of a wooden spoon sharpened and as formidable as an inflexible fish bone.[15] Other arms carried and used on occasion for premeditated or unexpected attack or in set, formal encounters were a razor, a file, a carpenter's adze, a hammer, a cobbler's awl.

Some surprising figures have been collected by Salillas to show how frequent was the appeal to violence and how fatal the consequences of the bloodthirsty strife so constantly breaking out among the more reckless members of this hot-tempered Latin race. They had often their origin in drunken quarrels, for aguardiente, the Spanish equivalent to whiskey or gin, was always plentiful, introduced almost openly by the warders. Ancient feuds were revived when the opportunity of settling them was offered by the chance meeting in the gaol. Occasionally a homicidal lunatic ran loose about the yards and struck blindly at any inoffensive person he met when the furious fit was on him. Salillas tells us that in one year sixteen murderous assaults were committed upon warders,[16] and twenty-four free fights occurred among the prisoners, eleven of whom were killed outright and forty-two seriously wounded. One truculent ruffian fell upon an aged wardsman (a convict also), struck him with a shoemaker's knife

and then, brandishing his weapon, defied interference or the rescue of his victim whom he "finished" with repeated blows. A Valencian newspaper describes an encounter between two inmates of the Torres Serranos prison in that city. "Without warning or suggesting the cause of difference the two silently hurried to a large empty room, rushed at each other with their knives, and the only sounds heard were those of blows struck and warded off and of shuffling feet as they circled round each other. Warders headed by the governor (alcaide) strove to separate the combatants and succeeded at last in doing so but at peril of their lives. Both the antagonists were wounded, one had his cheek laid open and the other's face was horribly gashed. At Saragossa an old man who complained that one of his blankets had been stolen was fiercely attacked in the shoemaker's shop by the thief, who had been cutting out sole leather with a heavy iron tool. Deadly wounds were inflicted on the victim, but the infuriated aggressor stood over him, keeping those who would have interposed at bay until it was clearly evident that death had supervened.

The primary cause of the chronic discreditable, disgraceful disorder that reigned in the Spanish prisons was the prevailing custom of employing prisoners in the service and discipline of the prisons. This practice is now universally condemned as reprehensible and it has been abolished in most civilised countries and even in Spain. The excuse offered which long passed current in Spain was the expense entailed by employing a proper staff of officers, a necessity in every well ordered prison administration. But till quite a recent date the control and supervision of prisoners in Spanish gaols was practically their own affair. There were the usual superior officials, assisted by a few free overseers (capataces) but the bulk of the work was entrusted to the cabos de vara.

The vicious system was the more objectionable from the uncertainty which prevailed in its working. If the cabo de vara had been carefully selected from the best and most exemplary prisoners some of the worst evils might have been avoided. But it was all a matter of chance. Not only was there no selection of the best but there was no rejection or elimination of the worst candidates. In some conspicuous cases the office of cabo de vara was suffered to fall into the hands of men altogether unfit to hold it. Two in particular may be quoted, those of Pelufo and Carrillo, who having first committed atrocious crimes, escaped punishment and were actually promoted. One, Pelufo, was a convict in the presidio of Cartagena who murdered a cabo and cut his way out of the St. Augustin prison, knife in hand; the other, Carrillo, slew a comrade in a duel in the presidio of San Miguel de los Reyes (Valencia) and both were subsequently appointed cabos, "a reward," as a witty official said, "which they had earned by their services to penitentiary methods."

With such examples and under such authorities serious crimes were naturally numerous. A few may be mentioned. A cabo named Casalta killed a fellow cabo in St. Augustin prison of Valencia with five cruel thrusts and afterwards stabbed an officer to the heart. When the military guard came up he seriously injured one of the soldiers and wounded two convicts, one in the head, the other in the back. Casalta was however condemned to a fresh sentence of twelve years. One Ferreiro Volta cut a comrade's throat for having given evidence against the man, Pelufo, already mentioned. Many more cases of the same heinous character where the homicidal instinct had full play may be picked out of the published lists. In one prison thirteen already guilty of murder or attempted murder repeated their crimes as prisoners; in another nine convicted of maliciously wounding, pursued the practice or were guilty of awful threats to murder in the gaols. The cases might be multiplied almost indefinitely but it will suffice to indicate the terrible conditions constantly prevailing. No doubt murderous attacks were often stimulated by the tyranny of the prisoner cabos, against whom their fellows, goaded to desperation, rose and wreaked vengeance.

The discipline exercised by these prisoner warders was naturally not worth much. It was their duty to correct and restrain their comrades, to assist in their pursuit when they escaped after having originally most probably facilitated the evasion, to side with the authority in cases of serious insubordination and disturbance. But they were weak vessels yielding readily to temptation, accepting bribes hungrily, swallowing drink greedily when offered, quickly cowed by the threats of prison bullies and surrendering at discretion when opposed. But even although there were good and trusty men to be found at times among them, no real reliance could be placed in them. They generally represented fifty per cent. of the staff and the necessity for the substitution of the non-convicted, properly paid, fairly honourable warders has been very wisely decided upon. The chief danger lay in their close and intimate association with the rest, day and night constantly alone when no official supervision was possible. Their value depended entirely upon their personal qualifications. If they were weak-kneed and invertebrate, they could apply no check upon the ill-conditioned, could neither intimidate nor repress: if on the other hand they were of masterful character with arrogant, overbearing tempers, they might do immense mischief by tyrannising over their charges and leading them astray. Men of this class often claimed an equality with the recognised officials, treated them with off-hand familiarity, spoke without saluting or removing their caps, while insolently puffing the smoke of a half-consumed cigarette in faces of the officers. Salillas sums up the type as "semi-functionary, semi-convict and all hangman."

The external aspect of Ceuta is not unpleasing. It is built on seven hills, the highest of which is topped by the fortress, and in the word "septem" we may trace the name Ceuta. It still possesses a few Moorish remains, for it was once an important Moorish city. Some of the streets show a tesselated pavement of red, white and green tiles, and house fronts are to be seen in white, black and serpentine marble with decorated scroll work running in a pattern below the gutter. It has some claims to be picturesque and possesses certain artistic architectural features. An imposing barrack, that called Del Valle, built by prison labour, is considered one of the finest Spanish military edifices. It has also a cathedral dedicated to Our Lady of Africa, engineering and artillery yards, a military hospital, another church, public offices, and above all a palace of the governor and general commanding. The latter in particular, with its extensive grounds, handsome faÇade, and suites of fine rooms, the whole well mounted and served by a large staff of convict attendants, is the envy of all other government officials. One wide street traverses the city from west to east crossed by a network of smaller ways, all airy and well ventilated by sea breezes and constantly illuminated by a brilliant sun. From time to time convicts in their distinctive dress pass along, but scarcely cast a shadow upon the scene, showing few signs of their thraldom and passing along with light-hearted freedom, smoking excellent tobacco or singing a gay song. No beggars offend the eye, for to solicit public charity is strictly forbidden. Generally a contented well-to-do air is worn by the crowd, and even the convicts are decently dressed. Other inhabitants, Moors from the mainland, and Jews long established in commerce seem prosperous and evidently possess ample means gained by their industry and thrift.

The presidio or prison proper of Ceuta covers a large part of the peninsula or promontory and embraces four distinct districts; the first is situated in the new or modern town; the second lies just outside it; the third is within the old town and the fourth is beyond the outer line of walls. The first part is connected with the third by a drawbridge called boquete de la sardina or the "sardine's entrance"; the second with the third by a portcullis; the third with the fourth and last by the outer gate of the city.

In the first are the artisans' quarters, situated in the cloisters of an ancient monastery, that of San Francisco, and but for the patching and whitewashing would look quite ruinous. It is neither secure nor of sufficient size. The night guards are posted in the old mortuary house, the bars to many windows are of wood. The building contains offices, schoolhouse, store for clothing and the workshops, these being in a sort of patio or courtyard, or in hollow spaces in the cloisters, and are simply dens and rookeries, in part exactly over the old burial ground. The handicrafts pursued when I visited it were various: men were making shoes; fourteen tailors were at work; a blacksmith with a life sentence constantly hammered out the red hot iron; a tinsmith produced many useful articles; a turner at his lathe worked admirably in the old meat bones and fashioned handles for walking sticks and umbrellas. This turner earned much money and was comfortably lodged. Convicts at Ceuta are not deprived of their profits and spend their money buying better food, superior clothing and aguardiente and using it to bribe their overseers, or they cleverly conceal it, adding constantly to their store. Industry is a chief source of wealth, but many political prisoners bring large sums in with them, or it is smuggled in to them, and a successful hit with the "buried treasure fraud" will supply plenty of cash.

Other industries followed are carpentering and the construction of trunks and boxes which sell well. A number of looms are engaged in weaving canvas for the manufacture of sails for the local shipping, rough material for sacking and clothing of the convicts, all in large quantities and to a really valuable extent. These workshops are filled by the prisoners in the first stage of their detention. The water-carriers and clerks in the government office are in the second period, and on reaching the third the convicts obtain the privilege of going at large to accept employment in the town "from gun to gun."

The prison hospital is situated in this first district, an ancient edifice erected with part of the funds subscribed in times past to purchase freedom for Christian captives enslaved by the Barbary Moors. The building is of good size, well ventilated, and enjoys good hygienic conditions. But the defects and shortcomings in Spanish administration extend even to Ceuta and the prison hospital, which a local authority says "is detestably organised and mounted miserably." The roof is so slight that it affords no proper protection in summer and the intense heat of the blazing sun striking through is very injurious to the patients. The medical resources are small and inferior; the beds few and unclean; the whole of the interior arrangements, furniture fittings and appliances, insufficient and worn out. There is no mortuary and to add a small detail in proof of the imperfections, autopsies were performed in a small den, part of the hospital proper, without disinfectants and the essential appliances for carrying out post mortems. Patients seldom made a long stay in the hospital, for they were rarely admitted until they had reached the last stages of an illness and came in as a rule only to die.

The second district contains the principal quarters for convicts. One is in the chief barrack called cuartel principal and another in the fortress el Hacho.[17] Some further evidence of their evil condition may be extracted from an account given by Salillas. "It is impossible to conceive," he writes, "a more unsuitable, unsavoury place for a prison. The rooms and dormitories occupied by the convicts are dark and gloomy, always damp, full of pestilential odours and dirty beyond description. The floors are of beaten earth, ever secure hiding places for all forbidden articles, weapons, tools for compassing escape, jars of drink, the fiery and poisonous aguardiente. It seems to me extraordinary," he goes on to say, "that life under such conditions is possible. A thousand and odd men who seldom if ever wash, who never change their clothes, are crowded together promiscuously in small, unclean, ill-ventilated, noisome dens and must surely engender and propagate loathsome epidemic disease." The fetid air is foul with the noisome exhalations of many generations of pestiferous people. It is one sink of concentrated malaria—a reeking hot bed of infection. The services of supply are carried out with abominable carelessness: the kitchen is an abode of nastiness: the cooking is performed by repulsive looking convicts in greasy rags who plunge their dirty arms deep into the seething mess of soup which they bail out into buckets, a malodorous compound of the colour and consistency of the mortar used in building a wall.

Close by is another quarter in which convicts are lodged, el Hacho, or the hilly ground or topmost point of Ceuta on which is placed the citadel which crowns the fortifications. It takes the overflow from the principal barrack and is moreover generally occupied by the worst characters, the most insubordinate and incorrigible members of the prison population. The rooms, as in the barrack below, are dirty, overcrowded and insecure, but a few windows of the upper story open on to the Mediterranean and are not always protected by either wooden or iron bars. El Hacho contains within its limits a certain number of solitary cells, well known and much dreaded by the habitual criminals of Spain. They are essentially punishment cells used in the coercion of the incorrigible and are just as dark, damp and wretched as the larger rooms. But the solitary inmate in each cell is generally kept chained to the wall or is as it is styled amarrado en blanca, nearly naked and heavily ironed. The treatment is exemplary in its cruelty, but does not necessarily cure the subject. There was one irreclaimable upon whom several years of the calabozo had had no effect. He had been sentenced to be thus chained up as the penalty for murderously wounding an overseer in el Hacho, but he did not mend his manners. On one occasion on the arrival of a new governor all under punishment were pardoned. This convict when sent out forthwith furiously attacked the first warder he met and was again condemned to be locked up as a ceaseless danger to the presidio. He is remembered as little more than a youth, but with a diabolical countenance and indomitable air.

The district of the Barcas does not contain a barrack properly speaking, but there is a space cut in the thickness of the line wall entering a patio or courtyard which gives upon seven rooms, some high, some low; of these three and part of the yard were filled with munitions of war, and a battery of artillery was placed over the dormitories on their upper floor. Many of the convicts are employed as boatmen and watchmen in the port, others have charge of the walls and carry water up to the guardhouses on the higher level. They also attend to the service of the drawbridge between the old and new town. One who was employed as gatekeeper at the drawbridge was well remembered. He was trusted to call on all convicts who passed to produce their permits of free circulation or to enter and leave the fortress. He had a pleasant rubicund face, was one armed, a little deaf, but with very sharp eyes, not easily hoodwinked. He was a confirmed gossip who picked up all the news which he retailed to all who passed in and out. Escapes were of constant occurrence at Ceuta, but few occurred by the drawbridge of the Barcas.

Half way up the road from the town to the citadel and the fort of the Seraglio was the Jadu barrack which was occupied by the convicts who were engaged in agricultural work, in making tiles and burning charcoal. Many of these were foreigners and negroes. The bulk of the residents was made up of those who had completed three fourths of their sentences and lived "under conditions," or in a state of conditional or semi-freedom. There was little wrong-doing in Jadu, thefts were rare, fights and quarrels seldom took place. The Seraglio was a fortified barrack of rectangular shape occupied by troops of the garrison and lodging an odd hundred convicts labouring on adjacent farms in private hands.

It will be observed that the convicts established in these last-named quarters beyond the walls do not appear to exhibit all the unpleasant features attributed to them by some writers in recording their experiences of Ceuta.[18] No doubt the truth lies somewhere between the two extremes but it is certain that the chief penal colony of Spain shares to a marked extent the drawbacks inseparable from all forms of penal colonisation. We may see, beyond all question, that at Ceuta no beneficial results are achieved by the system. Criminals who undergo the penalty are not improved by it; their reformation, too generally a will-o'-the-wisp under the very best auspices, is not even attempted, much less assured. On the other hand, it is perfectly clear that evil is perpetually in the ascendent, that criminal tendencies are largely encouraged by the facilities given in the education and practice of wrong doing; that the presidio itself is a criminal centre where the seeds of crime are sown and their growth fostered despite the difficulties of distance and inconvenience. The fear of penal exile is no deterrent to crime for the simple reason that life in Ceuta is not particularly irksome and that the convict finds many compensations there. The obligation to hard labour is not strictly enforced. Man must work, but not hard and chiefly for his own advantage, to gain the means of softening and bettering his lot. He passes his time very much as he pleases. Though he rises with the sun, as is the universal custom of his country, he turns out of bed without giving a thought to personal cleanliness and proceeds to his appointed labour leisurely, after disposing of his breakfast, adding perhaps more toothsome articles of food, including a morning drink of aguardiente bought from the hawkers and hucksters awaiting him at the prison gates. He is dressed in prison uniform, but it is sufficient and suitably varied with the season. He is not hampered by fetters, as the ancient practice of chaining convicts together in couplets has long since ceased. The wearing of irons fell into disuse years ago at the building of the great barrack del Valle, when several deplorable accidents occurred and it was found that chains interfered with the free movement of workmen on scaffolding and so forth. The idea was that irons should again be imposed at the conclusion of the building; "but all who thought so did not know Spanish ways, nor the despotism of custom when once established."[19] "To-day (1873)," says same writer, "there are not fifty suits of chains in the storehouse and not more than twenty are worn by special penalty and

by no means as a general practice." The convict loafs about the rooms or courtyard or idly handles the tools of his trade, gossiping freely with his comrades, or taking a hand at monte or chapas with the full permission of warders not indisposed to have a "little on the games"; he finds easy means to issue into the streets to carry on some delectable flirtation; there may be a bull baiting afoot, a novillos in which all may join, or a theatrical performance is being given by a convict company in one of the penal establishments.

The theatre is a passion with the average Spaniard and the taste extends to those in durance. Cases constantly occur in which popular plays have been reproduced in prisons situated in the principal cities. Salillas[20] states that almost all the prisons of Spain had their theatre and he gives the names of Burgos, Ceuta, Ocana, Valladolid, Saladero (Madrid) and AlcalÁ de Henares. One writer who visited the prison performance at Seville of a musical piece, the "Viejas Ricas de Cadiz," said it was given well and that the vocal talent was considerable in that and other prisons. At the presidio of San Miguel de los Reyes the convicts were heard singing a chorus on Christmas Eve which was perfectly executed and with great feeling.

In the Valladolid gaol the theatre was regularly installed by a company of forty convicts who had contributed substantial sums for the purpose. It

had working committees with rules and regulations formally sanctioned by the governor of the province. The theatre with seats for an audience of four hundred, and four private boxes holding twelve persons each, was constructed in a building which afterwards became the blacksmith shops. A refreshment room was provided in which a contractor dispensed sweets and pastry and strong drink; real actresses were engaged from outside at a salary of a dollar for each performance; invitations were issued to the free residents and the convicts paid two reales for admission. Well known, high class plays were produced, comedies, dramas and comic operas.

The whole proceeding was a caricature upon prison discipline and the authorities who permitted it were very properly sharply and severely condemned. They exposed themselves to reproof and worse for flagrant contempt of the most ordinary restrictions in allowing women to pass in constantly, and in permitting the sale of alcoholic liquors. That a place of durance, primarily intended for the restraint and punishment of evil doers should be converted into a show and spectacle was an intolerable misuse of power and a disgraceful travesty of the fitness of things. The positive evil engendered was seen in the wholesale escape of the theatrical company, while the audience patiently waited in front of the curtain which "went up" eventually on a wholly unexpected performance.[21]

In the matter of escapes Ceuta was famous. It was not difficult to get away from that imperfectly guarded stronghold when the convict had means to bribe officers or buy a boat and had the courage to make the voyage across the Straits of Gibraltar. The story of one veteran convict who escaped from Ceuta is interesting because he was driven to take himself off by what he no doubt deemed the ill-judged severity of his injudicious keepers. This was an old brigand known as "El NiÑo de Brenes," (the lad of Brenes), a name he must have earned some time back for he was a man aged seventy when he "withdrew" (the word is exact) from Ceuta. He was a well-behaved, well-to-do convict of affable address who had gained many staunch friends among the officials and his own comrades. The position he had created for himself was one of practical ease and comfort; he lived in el Hacho pursuing various industries, usury among the rest, and gradually grew so rich that he gained possession of a strip of land which he cultivated profitably and kept a fine poultry yard as well as many sheep and goats.

El NiÑo was a tall well built old man, dark-skinned, with abundant white hair. He was of highly respectable appearance, very stout and sleek, and, being on the best of terms with his masters, he took upon himself to discard the prison uniform and dress himself as an Andalusian peasant with gaiters and red sash and sombrero calaÑes (round hard hat). Not strangely this presumption displeased the authorities and he was told that he must conform to the rules and appear in the proper convict clothing and cease to act as a money lender to his poorer brethren. He received this intimation with a smiling protest; he pointed out that he used his influence in pacifying ill-conditioned convicts, in staving off disturbances and preventing quarrels. If his services were not better appreciated and he was tied down to the strict observance of the ordinary rules he would move further away; his remaining in the presidio was quite a matter of favour and he had always at his disposal the means to make his escape, and if he were interfered with he would take his departure. This impudent reply quite exasperated the authorities, who thereupon resolved to employ sharp measures. The facts as he had stated them were more or less true and the blame lay really with the faulty and inefficient rÉgime in force. But the authorities would not tamely submit to be defied and a peremptory order was issued that he should dispose of his private property by a certain date, wind up his financial affairs and renounce all idea of exceptional treatment. El NiÑo took this as a threat to which there could be but one reply. He gathered together his cash and portable property and quietly disappeared. A hue and cry was raised; the usual signals flew at the signal staff; all gates and exits were closely watched; the police were unceasingly active in pursuit, but the fugitive had laid his plans astutely and was never recaptured. Having the command of ample means he doubtless used them freely to purchase freedom by taking some sure road past the frontier or across the sea.

Allies and auxiliaries were never wanting to the enterprising fugitive willing to pay liberally for assistance. In one case a convict had the courage to allow himself to be shut up in a chest half full of tobacco and to be thus conveyed to Gibraltar, to which it was returned as containing damaged goods. Gibraltar is a free port and the chest was landed without question. Then the consignee opened it without delay and extracted the fugitive convict uninjured. The last part of the story is somewhat incredible and we may wonder why the fugitive did not succumb to the discomforts of his narrow receptacle, want of air, the exhalations of the tobacco and the shakings and bumping of the box as it made its voyage, albeit a short one, from Ceuta to the Rock.

An escape on a large scale was effected from the principal barrack when eighteen convicts descended into the drains, and finding their progress unimpeded threaded them safely and passing under the outer wall reached the outlet to the sea. It happened that the water was high and that there was a great conflict of currents in which that setting inward had most force and the exit was blocked by the stormy waves. Some of the convicts committed themselves to the waters but were washed back with violence against the rocky fortifications and all of them in terror for their lives raised loud cries, calling for help. The sentries gave the alarm, the guards ran down and recaptured all the fugitives but one, a fine swimmer who persisted in his attempt and was swept seaward clear of the rough water till he was able to regain the shore on the far side of the Moorish sentries.

The prison population of Ceuta is made up of a number of motley, polyglot types of the many diverse families that compose the Spanish race and of other distinct nationalities. The Spaniards are generally classified under two principal heads: the Aragonese and the Andalusians. The first named comprises all from the northern provinces who are generally coarse, quarrelsome and brutal, sentenced chiefly for crimes of violence, murders premeditated and committed under aggravated circumstances, the outcome of furious and ungovernable passion. The Andalusian is of more generous character, lively and light-hearted, but of unsettled disposition and much impelled to attempt escapes. He is a chronic grumbler constantly moved to complain, dissatisfied with his rations and clamorous for special privileges. The Aragonese on the other hand suffers long in silence which leads eventually, after long brooding, into mutinous combination. The Andalusian makes his grievances heard by word of mouth, the Aragonese rushes without notice into overt action and organised attack. Another distinct section of the Spanish race is the Galician and the native of the Asturias, a sober, quiet and well-conducted people at home, who exhibit great ferocity as convicts. Sanguinary encounters are little known in these provinces, but when an Asturian or Galician takes the life of his enemy, he uses artifice and waylays him, decoying him into an ambush and murdering him often with horrible mutilation. A criminal feature, peculiar to the women of these provinces, is their addiction to the use of poison. Other Spanish females will use violence and inflict lethal wounds openly, but the Galician woman administers poison secretly, deliberately choosing her victims among her nearest relatives.

The colonial empire of Spain, now a thing of the past, contributed in its time a substantial contingent of yellow and black convicts, Chinamen from the Philippines and negroes from Cuba. It was a reprehensible practice to associate these foreigners with the European convicts and it produced many evils. The Chinaman was often shamefully ill-treated. He bore it patiently, but at times when goaded beyond endurance, retaliated with bloodthirsty violence. The story of one negro convict, a rather remarkable person, is still remembered at Ceuta. He rejoiced in the somewhat inappropriate feminine name of Dolores, and despite his colour was a singularly handsome man. He had a slight, active figure, a highly intelligent face and a clear, penetrating eye. His mental faculties were of a high order, although he had received only an indifferent education. He had the fondness of his race for fine clothes and although conforming to the prison uniform wore it with a certain distinction, improving and adding to it where possible and having quite a gentlemanly appearance. He had been guilty of a hideous murder in Havana for which he had received a nearly interminable sentence. His behaviour in gaol was orderly and submissive and he always displayed the utmost loyalty to his masters, who in return lightened his lot as far as was possible.

Dolores, as a rule, was of a patient disposition, although he was easily roused into fits of violent temper and could be at times, according to his treatment, either a lion or a lamb. It seemed almost incomprehensible that the mild eyes so calm and peaceable, when he was unmoved, could blaze with sudden fury or that his small delicately shaped hands could fasten murderously on a fellow creature's throat. Tyranny and oppression were intolerable to him and he altogether declined to submit to be domineered over by the chief bully in the prison. His defiance led to an embittered conflict—a duel fought out with knives—in which the black champion conquered after inflicting many deep wounds upon his antagonist. With his victory Dolores gained also the implacable ill-will of his fellows. They put him on his trial, in a corner of the principal barrack and condemned him to death, which would certainly have been inflicted had not the authorities interposed to give him their protection. He was removed to el Hacho and placed in one of the separate cells used generally for the punishment of the incorrigible.[22] This was fatal to him. Two water-carriers belonging to the hostile faction entered the cell when Dolores was engaged in writing with his back to the door, and throwing themselves upon him gave him two mortal wounds under the left shoulder. In this supreme moment Dolores put forth his tremendous strength, caught his assailants by their necks and broke them before the warders could interfere on either side. Dolores died but he is still remembered in the prison annals as one of the most valiant and indomitable convicts who had ever been detained in the presidio.

Another alien convict to whom Relosillas pays a high tribute was his own Chinese servant, a convict known as "Juan de la Cruz, the Asiatic." He seems to have been unceasingly loyal and devoted in his service, an admirable cook, an indefatigable nurse, a faithful watchman who guarded his effects and secured his privacy. Juan had many accomplishments; he could weave shade hats of the finest palm fibre, he was as clever as any seamstress with his needle; he was a first-class housemaid and laundress; he could make a dollar go further in the market than the most economical housewife. He drove the most astonishing bargains with the hucksters and purveyors of food, fish and game, with which Ceuta was plentifully supplied. He had been

condemned to a long term for a murder committed in Havana at a hotel, of which he was the chief cook. In appearance he was younger than his years, tall, thin, anÆmic looking, shortsighted, with jet black hair and oblique eyes. He was a man of great intelligence, a dramatic author in Chinese and was released before his time to accompany the Director General of Prisons to Madrid as his cook. In the end he started a fruit shop in the capital and prospered greatly.

An entirely different class of prisoners came to Ceuta in considerable numbers from time to time,—those exiled for political misdeeds. A whole discipline battalion was composed of military offenders, among them a number of artillerymen condemned for the rising in Barcelona and crowds of Carlists and those concerned in the so-called cantonal risings. One or two politicals were strange characters, such as the old soldier named "el Cojo" (the lame man) of CariÑena, a conceited veteran very proud of his many campaigns in which he had served, and who went everywhere on donkey back, being infirm and crippled. Another was the ex-curÉ of Berraonda, a Biscayan priest of ferocious aspect, tall, corpulent, dark-skinned, with an abundant snow white bushy beard, which grew to his waist and which was left untouched by the prison barber.

Speaking in general terms of the whole body all types of character were represented. Some when in funds liked to pose as dandies with fine linen, smart shoes or rope sandals tied with ribbons and coloured sashes (fajas); others, the larger number, were coarse and brutal ruffians, without private means, or too idle to acquire them by the labour of their hands, much given to drunkenness and very quarrelsome in their cups. The attitude of most convicts is mute irritation against everyone, but they especially hate their warders and superiors; they are surly and forbidding in manner, silent as to their past, little disposed to talk of their criminal adventures. Yet they display the most contradictory traits. Even when they have been guilty of the most horrible misdeeds they often show a calm, innocent face and are little vexed by conscience. One who was noted for his submissive demeanour and who in any trouble always sided with authority, was a parricide who had killed his father under the most revolting conditions.

This youth, barely of age at the time of his crime, had sought his father's consent to his marriage with an unworthy character, and when refused, he retaliated by beating in his parent's brain with a pickaxe. The fit of homicidal fury which possessed him drove him to kill his father's donkey also and the dog which had been at his heels. Then, having satiated his rage, he went home seemingly undisturbed, and made some paltry excuse for his father's absence. When the corpse was found he was arrested on suspicion, but for want of more than circumstantial evidence escaped the garrote, and was sent to Ceuta for life. Yet this miscreant betrayed no outward sign of the horrible passions that sometimes dominated him, but was always placid and of an engaging countenance. He was lamblike in his demeanour, most attentive to his religious duties, never missed a mass or failed to confess. He was devoted to children and his greatest pleasure was to fondle the baby child of one of the warders which he carried about in his arms in the streets of Ceuta. He seemed absolutely callous and insensible to the prickings of conscience, but he showed in two ways that he was consumed with remorse. When any reference was made to his crime, at the slightest hint or the vaguest question, a fierce look came into his eyes, his mouth closed, his hand sought his knife and he was ready to attempt some fresh act of violence. The other sign of his mental distress was that he seldom slept and never soundly or for long, and his nights were disturbed with groans, deep sighs, even yells of despair. Yet his general health was good, he ate with appetite, maintained his strength well, and there was no apparent mental failure. But he was no doubt mad and under a more intelligent system of jurisprudence he would have been relegated to a criminal lunatic asylum. There is no record however that at Ceuta he had been seized again by homicidal mania.

There were many other types of murderers in Ceuta. The husbands who had killed their wives formed a distinct group. Jealousy because of real or fancied injury led to the vindictive thirst for revenge and this was more frequently found in the peasant than in the higher and better educated classes. Death had been inflicted in most cases by violence, but one aggrieved Othello chose poison, rejoicing in the acute suffering produced by arsenic. Another, who was half a Frenchman, adopted the French method of dismemberment, and to dispose of the damning evidence of the corpse, cut it up into small pieces and distributed them far and wide, but could not hide them effectually. Extenuating circumstances were allowed him and he went to Ceuta, where he is said to have lived quite contentedly, never regretting the savage act that had avenged his dishonour and made him a widower.

Ceuta made its own murderers. Duels to the death were of constant occurrence as elsewhere, and the authorities rarely interfered even when fatal consequences ensued. On this point Relosillas says: "During my stay of fourteen months in Ceuta hardly an hour passed without a serious quarrel, not a day when some one was not wounded, not a week without a violent death in the Cuartel Principal. These troubles were due invariably to the same causes, the admission of aguardiente and the facility with which knives and lethal weapons could be obtained—points already noted and discussed at the beginning of this chapter. The drink was always on tap, as it could be introduced without difficulty through the dishonesty of the warders and the unlimited traffic with the townspeople. The weapons were never wanting, as it was impossible to check their presence, for no convict would be without his long sharp knife ready for instant use.