The gaol of St. George's has a second floor tier of offices; but that
belongs to the governor and jailer; there are no prisoners above the
ground and the first floor.

None of the authorities ever inquire whether he has any means of
subsistence; there is neither bed blanket, nor even straw, unless the
prisoner can buy it, and then he must pay the guards to let it pass to
him.

Amongst the many thousands of unfortunate beings who are now confined
in Portugal, great numbers of them are without money or any other means
of subsistence; and were it not for the charity of people in general,
starvation would necessarily ensue.

The only authorities employed about the prison are a jailer, secretary,
and eight guards; of the latter three are always on duty; one of them
being stationed at the first iron gate at the entrance of the prison,
another at the second gate, and a third to attend the interior, each
with a bunch of keys in his hand, which serve for nearly all the doors.
The guards are relieved every night at nine o'clock, when, the man
who is posted at the outer door carries a strong iron rod (_see the
Engraving_) with which he strikes every bar in the windows and gates of
the gaol; and if any one of them does not vibrate, or ring, he carefully
inspects it to ascertain whether it has been cut with a saw, or corroded
by any strong acid. This dismal music lasts an hour. The whole expense
of the prison to government does not exceed 16_s_. per day, and the few
officers and guards, when Mr. Young was there, manage upwards of four
hundred prisoners. He was confined from June 16, to September 7, and his
account of the myriads of bugs, rats, mice, and other vermin is truly