ished when the United States took control of the customs.

And there you have the keynote to all the political dissensions that Santo Domingo has had or can have, the control of the customs. The government of Santo Domingo has practically no other source of revenue. Whichever political coterie there can control the money coming in by way of the custom dues controls the revenues of the island. But there again there is ample opportunity for intrigue. The ports are widely separated and communication between them overland is difficult. It has been possible in times past for one faction to control one port, another a second and still another a third. With the custom dues it was easy for each faction to secure arms and ammunition through our steamers which visit the island and smuggle them in freely. The action of President Roosevelt in taking control of the customs then, was the one thing which would stop these dissensions and give the stable, patriotic people of the island a fair show to work out their own salvation. Had the

United States Senate ratified this action at the first opportunity, the mutterings and threats which finally culminated in the recent outbreak would never have been heard. The prize of free access to all this income may now at any time be released through the refusal of the Senate to ratify, hence it was worth one more fight.

Such is the present day situation at Santo Domingo. It is a magnificent island, one of unlimited possibilities. It is one of the beauty spots of the world and has the finest climate ever seen. It is inhabited and misruled by a mongrel population which, in spite of many virtues and abilities, is not, and I fear never will be, of a type strong enough and vigorous enough to control its own destinies and advance in the paths of civilization of its own initiative. For its own good and for the good of the world in general it should be controlled by a stronger nation. It knows this and wants that nation to be the United States. But it is superstitious and sees ghosts, and they always wear the German helmet.

A

I

Old Newgate Itself CENTURY ago "Old Newgate" was one of the most famous prisons in America. Criminals of all sorts had a wholesome dread of its frowning walls; and children trembled with fright at the stories told of its inmates. To-day it is well nigh forgotten. The old wall and buildings are fast falling to decay, and save for an occasional visitor who explores its gloomy caverns with gruesome wonder, the present generation knows little of the place. Yet for its own unique character as well as for its many associations with colonial, revolutionary and early state. history the institution is worth visiting though it were at the cost of a hundred mile pilgrimage. I ven

ture the assertion that there is not

a more interesting spot anywhere in New England nor one more replete with memories of the Colonial period. It is to be hoped that the state may yet acquire possession of what remains of the ancient prison and carefully preserve it as a monument of early and ruder days.

In that range of hills that crosses the state of Connecticut a few miles to the west of the great river and terminating in East Rock near New Haven is one elevation higher than its fellows and known as Talcott mountain. Far up the western side of this mountain on a precipitous and craggy slope distinguished

from the rest by the specific title of Copper Hill, from the mines that honeycomb its interior, the early inhabitants located their colonial prison. In memory of the land from whence they came, and perhaps, also to add to the terror which the institution was designed to inspire in the hearts of evil-doers, they named the prison "Old Newgate" after the older and more famous prison in London.

The site of the prison was originally included within the limits of the town of Simsbury; but by subdivision of townships this region. has since become a part of Granby and more recently of East Granby. It is less than twenty miles from Hartford, which lies to the south. and about equally distant from Springfield, Massachusetts, to the northwest. On a clear day one can easily discern the glittering dome of Connecticut's state capitol from the guard house of the jail or from the road passing by its gate.

The location of the prison was first suggested by considerations of economy and fancied security. It was thought that the abandoned. copper mines would in themselves furnish a place of secure confinement for the most desperate criminals, requiring little preparation and no watchfulness to prevent escape.

As early as the year 1705, copper had been discovered upon the mountain and mining operations

had been carried on at intervals for more than fifty years. But each attempt had ended in failure; for although there was copper enough and of good quality, the ore was of such a nature that it could not be extracted profitably; consequently the effort was sure to be abandoned within a few months or years at longest. As a result of these mining operations the mountain side was pierced in various directions with the shafts and chambers of the mine.

It was in 1773 that the government of the Connecticut colony appointed a committee to explore these mining shafts in order to learn whether they could be used as a colonial prison. After careful investigation the committee reported that by expending about thirtyabout thirtyseven pounds upon them the caverns could be so perfectly secured that it would be next to impossible for one confined there to escape. The property was accordingly purchased and fitted up by the placing of a heavy door or hatchway over the entrance to the mine and another similar barricade at the inner end of the drain. It was then considered impregnable, and in December of the same year the first convict, one John Hinson, was committed to the gloomy caverns.

Probably he did not enjoy the lonely life underground; for, notwithstanding the confident assurance of the committee, he made his escape after a stay of eighteen days. being drawn up in the night through a seventy foot shaft by the aid of his lady love. Soon afterwards three more prisoners were received, all of whom escaped within two months, and a fifth found his way out in just four days. When the

prison had been in operation nine years it was reported by the officials in charge that more than onehalf of the convicts who had been confined there had made their escape.

These frequent breaks led to constant improvements in the prison such as the closing of all shafts however deep with iron hatches or gratings, the guarding of the place by night as well as by day, the building of a block house over the main shaft through which the prisoners were admitted to the caverns and the adoption of various precautions in the management of the men. Later, in 1790, when Newgate was established permanently as the Connecticut state prison further improvements were made. A wooden palisade surmounted with iron spikes was erected, inclosing a half an acre of ground and all the mining shafts. Within the enclosure thus formed were built several workshops in which the convicts were employed. At first the purpose had been to employ them as miners; but it was soon discovered that the tools required for this work were the very ones best suited to aid them in escaping. The original plan was therefore given up and other employments were found for them. Soon after the beginning of the nineteenth century, the wooden palisade was replaced by a massive stone wall twelve feet in height with an arched gate and bastion which remains to the present time. On the keystone of the arch one may still read the name, "Newgate Prison," chiseled there so many years ago.

Passing through the gate the visitor is shown the ruins of the buildings which were used in the

most recent period of the prison's history. At the southeast corner was a building about fifty feet long, the lower part of which was sometimes used for cells and the upper part for a chapel. Here religious services were held every Sabbath, and during the week the same walls witnessed many a jollification of the prison officers and their families with friends from the neighborhood.

Adjoining the chapel on the west was another building having various rooms which were used for a cooper shop, hospital, kitchen and shoe shop. Deeply imbedded in the walls of this building are the iron staples to which the convicts were chained while at their work. For criminals were looked upon in those days more as dangerous beasts than as human beings, and one might almost fancy from the appliances for restraining and punishing them that this was a place for keeping lions and tigers rather than men and women.

Beyond the cooper shop is the latest and largest building of the prison, still in a good state of preservation. This is a structure of stone and brick containing five stories and towering high above all the other prison buildings. From its old belfry one may take an extensive survey of the surrounding country besides obtaining an excellent bird's-eye view of the prison grounds. In this building are the remains of the treadmill, once the terror of refractory convicts, various other pieces of machinery used in the manufacture of flour by convict power, the brick oven in which the prison baking was done, and cells for the confinement of male and female prisoners when the ad

vancing spirit of humanity revolted against confining human beings in underground caverns. This building is entered by plank bridges spanning a deep ditch, so that it must have been difficult if not impossible for one of the inmates to leave the building without passing in sight of the guard who patrolled the bastion near the top of the opposite wall.

At the northwest corner of the yard a pile of crumbling brick marks the spot where the nail shop or smithery formerly stood. And about the centre of the enclosure stands, in a good state of repair, the warden's house from the stone basement of which descends the shaft which gives entrance to the mines below. Two other shafts may be seen, one near the great gate of the prison, seventy feet in depth, which was made for the admission of air; and the other, not far from the nail shop, which is the old well of the prison.

The visitor who has sufficient curiosity and courage may descend and explore the underground chambers if he has twenty-five cents for the guide who must accompany him. He must, however, array himself in outer garments for this purpose made and provided, otherwise his good clothes would suffer from contact with the dampness and dirt. of the caverns. Thus prepared the first stage of the journey is down a perpendicular ladder in inky darkness. The descent is thirty-two feet through the solid rock.

At the bottom of the ladder one finds himself on a level platform of rock where the guide hands him a rude torch consisting of a tallow candle fastened to the end of a stick and then himself leads the way

carrying a lighted lantern. The progress continues down a series of roughly made steps and through numerous winding passages where the explorer must often stoop to avoid the low roof or crouch against the side of the rock to escape the water which stands ankle deep in some parts of the chambers.

A glimmer of light ahead after you have walked several rods indicates that you are approaching the bottom of the seventy-foot shaft. And when you actually stand beneath its opening you can look upwards and see the blue sky and the stars even at midday. A large and lofty chamber from which many passages diverge in all directions was once the sleeping apartment of the convicts; and here are still the remains of the wooden bunks upon which they slept, the hardness of the planking being relieved only by straw so damp and foul that to-day it would not be thought fit for the bedding of cattle. As the prisoners were left pretty much to their own devices at night and were allowed to purchase liquor with the money earned by extra labor, this cavern was the scene of many a drunken brawl in which bunks were destroyed and not a few wounds given and received. The only restraint at such times was the fact that the prisoners were invariably manacled when sent down for the night. But the more ingenious convicts often found means of removing their irons as soon as they were left to themselves, carefully replacing them however before they were called up by the guard in the morning.

Following the passages towards the northwest, we come to the

surface to a point about fifteen feet below the floor of the mine. The lower part is filled to the brim with water so clear that at first the visitor supposes it to be empty. A few rods further in the same direction is the solitary cell or "sounding room" as it is sometimes called. Here is a cell made by cutting off the end of the chamber by a stone wall and heavy door. In this place the most refractory convicts were placed for a few days at a time, bound fast arms and legs to staples fastened in the solid rock. The staple still protrudes from the rock and a stream of water trickles into a hollow as of old, though no lonely prisoner needs it to quench his thirst. Words spoken in a deep bass voice awaken echoes in the rock and suggest the oaths and curses that have resounded there in days gone by.

From this place the visitor always returns to the entering shaft eager to escape once more into the free air of the upper world. It is with a distinct sense of relief that he steps from the top of the ladder and rushes out into the glorious sunlight. Probably every visitor asks the question, "How did men ever live in those damp and chilly caverns? Did not many of them sicken and die in confinement?" And all are astonished to learn that those damp caves were actually healthy places of abode, and that many a convict went forth at the close of his term of imprisonment in better health than when he entered. For skin and blood diseases in particular the minerals in the rock seemed to possess certain curative properties.