Cork City Gaol

On our journey through Ireland one of the coolest places we visited was Cork City Gaol. Opening in 1824, the gaol had quite a lively history. It started out as a harsh Victorian prison, then became a women-only penitentiary and then, finally, held some of the key figures in Ireland's fight for independence. Now it's a cool historical museum that tells the story of some of the inmates that were incarcerated there.

The gaol (pronounced jail) is high up on a hill in a part of Cork called Sunday's Well. You enter here at the gatehouse to buy tickets and you get to see two little videos of previous inmates telling their stories.

When you walk out of the gatehouse, this is what your see. On each side is a wing of the jail. Only one side is open for viewing. The center has other cool stuff to see.

This is a look back at the gate house from the other side.

As inmates came in through the gatehouse, they would proceed through here - the governor's garden and enter into the goal proper to be processed into the system. I googled a few of the "people" that we met in the museum and they were real! Seriously! I thought, for the purposes of the museum, they made people up but no.

When you walk in, the first inmate you meet is Mary Sullivan (on the left). She's waiting to see the governor. Mary is escorted by a female warder. Mary's a seamstress by trade. In 1865, following her eighth conviction, she received a seven year sentence for theft of cloth, which is an unusually long sentence for the crime.

The Governor's Office - Governor John Barry-Murphy is at his desk engrossed in his papers. He governed here between 1856 and 1873 and was the first Irish Catholic appointed to the post. All inmates met with the governor when they first entered the prison. All of their statistics were documented, height, weight, hair and eye color, age and details of their crime. As governor, Barry-Murphy earned £250 per year plus room and board.

This cool stairway is right inside the entrance and leads to the two upper floors.

This fella is guiding us to the next area and it would seem John has made a friend.

This is the Western Wing, which was remodeled in 1870 into a brighter more spacious double sided cell wing. The gallery was used for Sunday worship where prisoners lined the railing on the landing.  The fella at the top of the stairs is a guard. From that vantage point he had a good view of all that was going on.

The next inmate we encounter is Cornelius Kelleher. He's asleep in his cell. From the early 1800s, each inmate had a canvas mattress as they were considered healthier than the previous straw versions. He's serving time for drunk and disorderly behavior. He had just been released from serving a two-month sentence for the same offense when he was arrested and put back inside. I googled him and he was later arrested for sheep rustling and sentenced to "transportation", which meant he was shipped off to Australia.

We were encouraged to "try out the cells" ourselves. John didn't like it.

Our next inmate was James Burnes alias Henry White. He's been sentenced to six months hard labor on the treadwheel for obtaining goods under false pretenses. Using an alias, the con man posed as the son of Captain Smyth staying at the Imperial Hotel. Having conned a number of shop owners into delivery of a set of new clothes and some fine leather luggage to the hotel, he attempted to flee Cork before the bill was paid. One shop owner caught him just as the train for Dublin was about to leave.

Some people weren't thrown in jail, they were born here. Mary-Ann Twohig was sent here a short time before her baby was due. She was convicted of stealing a man's cloth cap along with some other clothing and some kitchen utensils with a plan to pawn them. While she was incarcerated, her son was born in the gaol hospital. She was released a few days early as her son had fallen ill.

This one was interesting. Mary McDonnell is the sleeping prisoner. She's charged with neglecting her children and for beathing one of them while being drunk. Hmm. What if she'd beat him while sober? She's a widow and had 56 (yes, I said 56!) previous convictions and, she's only twenty-three. Mary is serving one month and her children have been sent to the workhouse. The workhouse in 1856 Ireland is a miserable place where people were given food and shelter in exchange for hard labor. That would have to be tough on a kid.

Not all inmates were thieves. This is Countess Markievicz who came from landed gentry. In the early 20th century she had a deep concern for the working people and the poor. Here, she's writing a letter to her sister describing the conditions of her incarceration, which were quite good compared to others. In 1919, she was given a sentence of four months in Cork City Gaol for a seditious speech she delivered in Newmarket, warning her audience against the British authorities.

This was one of the creepiest exhibits. Not all inmates were adults. This is Julia Twomey. In the 1800s, even the pettiest of crimes carried a heavy sentence. She's spending her 14 day sentence picking oakum. She's 10 years old and was caught while attempting to steal a bellows from a shop on Georges Quay. Sadly, Julia can't read or write though she does know the alphabet. When she's completed her sentence, she be sent to reform school in Dublin for 3 years.

Edward O'Brien is a known pick-pocket and is serving a three-week sentence which includes twice-weekly whippings. This time he was caught stealing a couple of brass ball cocks. Even though he's only nine, the seasoned thief has already had seven previous convictions. He, too, will be shipped off to reform school in Dublin when he's released.

View from the first floor balcony. Note the path worn in the grass. That's the exercise yard. The prisoners would walk there in single file around the designated circle so that there could be no talking between them.

This fella is Dr. Beamish. He's the sole doctor for the entire goal. He visited the gaol at least once per day and would see anywhere from 80 to 100 patients per day. This is in addition to the 700 to 1,200 sick patients that he saw outside the prison. When he applied for a raise, he was denied.

Another view of the cell block showing all three floors.

The warder's room was a place where the warders spent their off-duty time. This wasn't a profession that was held in very high esteem. Many of the warders were only a small step from being inmates themselves. If they were convicted of dishonesty or drunkenness, they might find themselves locked up amongst the very inmates they had previously guarded.

Another view of the exercise yard. The building at the very back is the prison hospital and to the right, where the chimney is, was the prison kitchen.

This exhibit describes the various punishments meted out to the prisoners. The treadwheel was effectively a never ending staircase. If the prisoner was slow, he ran the risk of being dragged to the bottom while cuffed to his current place. There might be up to forty prisoners on the treadwheel for up to three hours a day. I can barely do this at the gym for five minutes! Oakum Picking was basically taking an old rope and picking it apart by untwisting the fibers. Clothes making was generally assigned to women prisoners. Stone breaking was hard labor, taking large stones and breaking them into smaller pieces. Shot Drill was picking up small cannonballs and moving them from one place to another. Whipping is just what it sounds like - beating with a multi-tailed whip called a cat-o-nine-tails. It was generally reserved for juveniles. There was also solitary confinement where prisoners were deprived of human contact and fed only bread and water. If prisoners tried to escape, their clothes were taken away from them, which could get very cold in the winter. Then there was transportation. If you were sentenced to more than seven years, you were shipped off to Australia. When you'd completed your sentence, you were on your own. If you didn't have money for passage back, you became an Australian.

A look out the window at the Western Wing of the prison.

The pillory. This was mainly used for humiliation. They'd lock you in this thing outside in front of everyone for a determined amount of time. People would throw rotten food at you or even spit on you. While I was able to pull my hands out of the holes, I wasn't able to do that with my head. This was not comfortable!

Back in the main entry way, we found this chair. All prisoners had to sit here to be weighed. This would help ensure that the correct amount of food was being given to a prison for them to maintain their weight.

Back behind the weighing chair and underneath the stairs was this secret passageway. It is said that this was the secret passage for the use of the Governor and his family only, and that it tunnels underground past the gatehouse to the Governor's home across the road.

This was the Debtors Gaol. Those who were unable to pay court-ordered judgements were sent here until they could pay off their debt by securing payment from the outside. This debtors prison opened in 1837 and could accommodate up to 36 people. Prior to that, pauper debtors were kept in a wing in the female side of the gaol. Life was a little more pleasant here in that inmates could wear their own clothes and often had food delivered from the outside.

Right behind this wall was the solidary confinement wing. Built in 1851, they were supposed to be used for regular cells but, due to non-compliance, they could only be used for solitary confinement. 

This was the gaol hospital.

I took a peek through one of the openings in the hospital and this is what I saw. It's too bad that they couldn't restore these out buildings as well. 

A view of the hospital from the other side. In the infirmary, men and women were strictly separated. Toilets and baths were added in the 1860s.

In 1878, the institution was repurposed as a women only prison. Then in the 1920s, during the Irish War of Independence and the Irish Civil War, Republican figures like Frank O'Connor and Constance Markievicz were held behind its walls.

In 1923, the prison closed it's doors. 

Then in 1927, the building was repurposed as a broadcasting studio for 6CK, Ireland's first local radio station. It remained in use as a radio station until the the late 1950s. After that, the building fell into disrepair and remained vacant until 1993 when it received an extensive restoration and opened as a museum.

I'm grateful that the buildings and the history was saved. I really enjoyed seeing the museum and would recommend it for a visit if you're in Cork. It was cool to see some of the actual prisoners that were incarcerated there as well as their stories.