A prison. Span. Calaboza.
1797. Threatening me with the horrors of the Callibouse if I any longer disputed his authority.—Fra. Baily, F.R.S., ‘Journal of a Tour,’ p. 289 (Lond., 1856).
1819. I passed a drove of forty slaves, chained by the waist and leg, driven under the scourge to labour upon the flag-stones, as a punishment; and doomed, at night, to the calabose [in New Orleans], whither all vagrants, taken after the nine o’clock signal gun is fired, are sent.—Henry C. Knight (‘Arthur Singleton’), ‘Letters from the South and West,’ p. 123 (Boston, 1824).
1826. [Along the Mississippi, in the 18th century,] the commandant, a priest, a file of soldiers, and a calaboza made up the engine of government.—T. Flint, ‘Recollections,’ p. 208. (Italics in the original.)
1835. We passed the famous Calaboos, or Calabozo, the city prison, so celebrated by all seamen who have made the voyage to New-Orleans.—Ingraham, ‘The South-West,’ i. 111.
1835. Sam he got off to the boat, but the Calaboos men got Joe.—‘Col. Crockett’s Tour,’ p. 146.
1835. “Five Months in the Calibouse.”—Story by William Comstock: Boston Pearl, Sept. 26.
1840. A poor fellow by the name of Herrigan cut his throat in the calaboose last night.—Daily Pennant (St. Louis), May 7.
1840. The pugnacious gentlemen were lodged in the calaboose.—Id., June 9.
1840. He will be put in the calaboose tonight, and tomorrow sent to jail, or to the hospital.—Id., July 11.
1846. The calaboose [at San José] is a miserable dark room of two apartments, one with a small loophole in the wall, the other a dungeon without light or ventilation.—Edwin Bryant, ‘What I saw in California,’ p. 312 (N.Y.).
1852. No one coming forward as bail, the magician was locked up in the calaboose.—Daily Morning Herald (St. Louis), Dec. 26.
1862. We learn he has secured quarters at the calaboose.—Rocky Mountain News (Denver), Sept. 11.
1868. He became a maniac for the time being, kicking up a general row, and fighting the policemen. Of course his lodging that night was in the calaboose.—Sol. Smith, ‘Autobiography,’ p. 211.
1888. Charley Read struck an old tramp in the calaboose, who looked disgusted at his headquarters.—Santa Ana Blade, n.d. (Farmer).
