Newgate before the 14th Century

The early architectural history of Newgate began in Roman Britannia (Rumbelow 15). The Roman settlement on the north bank of the Thames River would come to be known as Londinium and was walled around its perimeter. The probable precursor to Newgate was known as Westgetum due to its location on the west side of the Wall. In the 1598 edition of his , John Stow gives an explanation for the rebuilding of Newgate during the eleventh century. During the reign of William the Conqueror, St. Paul’s Cathedral was rebuilt (after it burned down in 1086), and the new church acquired significant surrounding land for a larger church yard and cemetery. Stow notes:

by inclosing of grounde, for so large a cemitorie, or church yarde: the high and large stréete stretching from Aldegate in the East, vntill Ludgate in the West, was in this place so crossed and stopped vp, that the carriage through the cittie Westwarde, was forced to passe without the saide churchyarde wall on the North side, through Pater noster row: and then south down Aue Mary lane, and againe West through Bowiar row to Ludgate Which passage, by reason of so often turning, was very combersome, and daungerous both for horse and man. For remedie whereof, a new gate was made, and so called, by which men and cattell with all manner of carriages, might passe more directly[.]

Stow 1598, sig. C7v Newgate was thus rebuilt to alleviate a congestion problem for westward traffic around St. Paul’s. The earlier gate is not mentioned by Stow, perhaps because it was not large enough for the men and cattell with all manner of carriages that Stow describes to pass through.

Between 1187-1188 the Exchequer granted money to clear land adjoining the gate on which to build a gaol, which was likely made of wood. The use of gatehouses as prisons was not uncommon. London itself had several other prisons converted from gates, such as Ludgate (Kelly). References in the Pipe Rolls to expenditure on Newgate gaol begin in 1194. In the year 1218 the king wrote to the Sheriffs of London, commanding them to repair the gaol at Newgate, for the safe keeping of his prisoners (Thornbury). In 1239 the city authorities paid the sheriffs of London 100 marks from the City farm for their work in making a prison in a turret of the gate (Winter 65). The prison was also constructed not only within the gate’s structure, but also in the adjacent and surrounding buildings. Newgate was in a state of constant decay and in 1275 its condition was so poor that there was a mass breakout of nineteen prisoners (Rumbelow 15). Various attempts to make the prison more hygienic and secure were ordered over the next centuries. Between December 1281 and February 1282 extensive works and maintenance costing in excess of £66 were undertaken at the prison. The thirteenth-century Newgate consisted of the gate itself, various dungeon rooms, and the buildings directly adjacent to the gate on both sides (Bassett 234). The prison suffered damage at the hands of Wat Tyler and his followers during the Peasant Revolt in 1381, although the extent of those damages, and subsequent repairs, remains unknown (Bassett 234).

Richard Whittington

During the early fifteenth century, a new stone tower especially for women was built to the south of the gate. This decision was in reaction to a 1406 report that men and women were being kept so close to each other that women had to pass by them to use the privy (Bassett 238-239). News of squalid conditions were confirmed when, in 1419, Ludgate prison was closed, and its prisoners were brought to Newgate. Later in the same year Henry V reversed that decision, proclaiming that by reason of the fetid and corrupt atmosphere that is in the hateful gaol of Neugate, many persons who lately were in the said Prison of Ludgate, and who were committed to the said gaol [of Neugate], are now dead, who might have been living, it is said, if they had remained in Ludgate (Riley). This event prompted Lord Mayor Richard (Dick) Whittington to condemn the overcrowded and disease-ridden prison.

Whittington bequeathed a sum of money in his will to pay for Newgate’s renewal (Byrne 24). In 1423, it was ordered to be torn down, and a new gate and set of buildings were to be built in its place (Bassett 239). This allowed for a purpose-built gaol rather than a converted gatehouse. Whittington’s reconstruction expanded the prison to the north and south of the gate, as well as underneath the main gate (Babington 24; Bassett 239). The new prison comprised five storeys, and was eighty-five feet by fifty in dimensions (Byrne 24). Included within the gate was a chapel and recreation room. Like all prisons, Newgate had developed a Master’s-side, for those with independent means of financial support, and a Common’s-side, which was cheaper, less salubrious and meant shared accommodation. Men and women could now be housed separately, and a Debtors’ Ward was established. The extension included a central dining hall and drinking fountain for use by prisoners, although there would not be an adequate water supply until 1436, when leaden pipes were laid from the cistern which served St. Bartholomew’s Hospital (Bassett 239; Stow 1598, sig. B8r). The gate itself was reconstructed with a flat roof for recreation and rooms within the tower. Inmates staying in these tower rooms were required to pay for the privilege, a luxury that few inmates could afford. Rooms with chimneys and private toilets stood in stark contrast to the overcrowding of the earlier prison. Other prisoners were placed in less convenient chambers south of the gate. This stratified system ensured that the class of prisoner housed in the gaol could determine the level of comfort they received (Bassett 239-240). The new rooms therefore allowed for a more organised prison but encouraged corruption among jailers.

Beneath the gate were basement cells used both as a reception area for new prisoners and to house those convicted of the worst crimes (Halliday 31). The majority of basement occupants were condemned criminals awaiting their executions, and the conditions reflected the status of the occupants. Poor air quality in the basements was an obvious issue quite soon after its construction. An open sewer ran through the basement, and cells were dark, damp and had very low air circulation (Halliday 31). Air quality became such an issue that a windmill was attached to the roof to pull air into the dungeons below. However, documentation in the London Metropolitan Archives records a payment made to a carpenter for repair of the windmill in 1535 (Winter 74). From the outside the prison was also better entrenched into its surrounding environment: Stow notes that Newgate and its neighbouring buildings were paved with stones leuill with the streetes and lanes (Stow 1598, sig. B7r). After the renovation the prison was considered to be sufficiently strong and it was made illegal to put irons on freemen or women. However, some inferior prisoners were still kept underground and in chains (Bassett 241). Whittington’s Newgate would remain largely unchanged until the mid-seventeenth century. In 1629-1631 the façade of the gate was restyled from a gothic into a classical design (Winter 72). Donald Lupton’s 1632 alludes to this remodeling: It is now well fac’d and headed, / Charity helps much to a decayed estate (Lupton). He suggests that the works were paid for by a charitable person or organization.

Debtors

Throughout the medieval and early modern periods, Newgate was also one of the principal gaols in London (as well as the Fleet) for imprisoning civil debtors as surety for payment, and debtors could remain in Newgate indefinitely until they paid their fine or were freed by their creditors (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 12). Debtors constituted the largest group of offenders in Newgate (Durston 740; O’Donnell 25; Brodie, Croom, and O’Davies 11). In 1724, Batty Langley explained how more wealthy debtors could pay 6s 6d to enter the Masters’ side of the Debtors’ Ward, plus an additional 10s 6d for coal and candles, and claimed that The Master debtors’ side is an absolute Paradise compared to the best of Sponging-Houses (Langley 4). Sponging houses were unofficial places of confinement where debtors were taken by sheriffs and bailiffs under threat of being sent to a genuine prison; they were often overcharged for essentials, however, and Langley was of the opinion that it was cheaper to be sent to Newgate. However, it appears that the segregation was not thorough: an eighteenth-century commentator remarked that The debtor, rendered unfortunate by the vicissitudes of trade, undergoes the ignominy of being confined in the same prison with the most abandoned villains (Chamberlain 14).

Poverty and Theft

Theft was increasingly prosecuted during the early modern period. In early modern England the disparity between rich and poor increased significantly, and three quarters of assize court prosecutions involved property crimes (Bucholz and Key 188). As poverty was often associated with criminality, the most commonly prosecuted offenders of felonious crimes were the wage-dependent and unpropertied (Oberwittler 12). Crime and poverty were perceived outcomes of idleness and personal moral weakness (Dodsworth 586). Idleness manifested in various crimes, it was believed, the most prominent being begging and theft (Spierenberg 12). In his 1623 publication, , English poet John Taylor acknowledges the disproportionate distribution of wealth among the social classes, but nevertheless stresses the concept of individual responsibility, implying that all men, rich or poor, should be able to earn a stable living through diligence and steady work: This hath beene still the use, and ever will, That one mans welfare, comes from others ill. But (as I said) mans selfe is cause of all The miseries that to him can befall. Taylor sig. B5r

A focus on crime prevention through swift arrest, conviction and punishment served to exacerbate the already unfortunate reputation of the criminal class and the disenfranchised (Beattie 82). Consequently, the poor were more likely to be suspected and convicted of criminal wrongdoing based on reputation alone. In 1603, theft of goods above the value of one shilling, known as grand larceny, was technically still a felony punishable by death (Beattie 82). However, punishments for theft evolved over time and gradually became more lenient. George Wormington received a death sentence for committing burglary in 1674 (, ). By comparison, punishment for theft only a few decades later was branding and whipping. In January 1700, William Lyddall was sentenced to branding on the cheek for theft (, ), and Elizabeth Spellman and Stephen Smith received a whipping (, ). In May 1751, William Baldwin was indicted for grand larceny, having stolen one silver candlestick valued at five shillings and a pint earthen mug (, ). Baldwin was branded and sentenced to six months incarceration in Newgate, a sentence which reveals the constantly varied nature of sentencing over time.

Witchcraft

The early modern period also witnessed a spike in accusations and persecutions of witchcraft, which saw numbers of accused awaiting trial and sentencing in Newgate. In 1602, while Elizabeth Jackson awaited her trial at Newgate on charges of having bewitched a young girl Mary Glover causing her to have fits, she was questioned by a minister, Lewes Hughes. She was found guilty and sentenced to a year in prison and four appearances at the pillory. Hughes claims to have then performed a successful exorcism on Glover. However, when the Bishop of London, who believed that Glover was faking her symptoms, found out about Hughes’ behavior he had him imprisoned for four months (Hughes). The 1621 trial of one of these accused, Elizabeth Sawyer from Edmonton, was published in a pamphlet, , written by a Minister of the word of God, Henry Goodcole (Goodcole). Goodcole wrote the pamphlet following a visit with Sawyer in Newgate pending her trial and recorded her subsequent confession. Sawyer was a woman of low reputation within her community, who was ultimately found guilty and sentenced to be burnt at the stake on 19 April 1621. Sawyer’s case became the subject of a play the same year, , written by William Rowley, Thomas Dekker, and John Ford, which drew heavily on Goodcole’s pamphlet. In April 1622, the thirteen-year-old Elizabeth Jennings accused Margaret Russell, known also as the Countess, and three other women, of bewitching her. Russell was committed to Newgate to be examined repeatedly, at one point by Henry Goodcole, however the interrogations failed to result in a prosecution (Uszkalo).

Houses of Correction

Early seventeenth-century England saw a dramatic shift in social attitudes towards capital punishment and criminal sentencing. Although idleness was still perceived to be a sign of criminality, hard labour as a form of imprisonment was suggested as an alternative to capital punishment and method of crime deterrence (Beattie 282). Bridewell Prison and Hospital was established in a former royal palace in 1553 with two purposes: the punishment of the disorderly poor and housing of homeless children in the City of London. In Clerkenwell, the Middlesex house of correction was built in 1616, and the Westminster one in 1618. Their purpose was to provide work for the unemployed, and in many cases force work upon the disorderly, the idle, and the petty criminal based on the assumption that work would prevent further immorality (Bloy; Oberwittler 13). Inmates subject to this punishment were kept to hard labour (such as beating hemp) for days or weeks until discharge by warrant or an acquaintance’s testimony to their good character (Dabhoiwala 799). As a method of criminal sentencing, incarceration with forced labour did not come to replace capital punishment, but instead drastically decreased the popularity of mutilation by branding for the smaller criminal acts of petty theft, vagrancy, slander and debt (Oberwittler 7). Typically reserved for people accused of minor felonies and the young, there was a widespread belief that a period of incarceration at hard labour would lead to the reformation and re-establishment of order in inmates’ lives (Spierenberg 173; Dabhoiwala 799).

As the early modern period progressed, imprisonment as a form of punishment did increase. The terms varied from a few days to a year. The crimes and misconducts that were punished by imprisonment included breaches of peace; contempt for the orders governing everyday life and trade within the city; petty crimes; and disrespect for the governing body. In the case of Edward Swinney and Henry Harrison, both men were charged with murdering a bailiff in 1679. However, the jury concluded that it was not an act of murder and passed down a sentence of manslaughter. On 27 August 1679, Swinney and Harrison were sentenced to incarceration in Newgate for eleven months, without bail or mainprize ().Mainprize was the act of releasing a felon into friendly custody instead of incarceration, upon security given that the felon attend court at a specific time and place. Even occasional habitual offenders could be sent to Newgate as a means to prevent reoffending or partaking in future mischief.

Gaolers and Corruption

Although officially the lead gaoler (the Sheriff or Keeper) was appointed by the London Court of Aldermen, appointment holders often sublet their office to the highest bidder. This practice of farming out the prison was illegal but was nevertheless widespread (Griffiths 47). Those who purchased the office saw it as a lucrative opportunity, where they could extort prisoners for profit. While it was customary for a gaoler to charge each prisoner four pence upon their release since the ancient times, the gaolers of Newgate were notorious for their unscrupulous tyranny (Babington 43; Griffiths 46). The anonymous 1703 pamphlet described how when prisoners arrived at Newgate, they were deliver’d up to the paws of the wolves, lurking continually in the lodge for prey, alluding to the keepers awaiting the payments they could retrieve from prisoners (Tuus inimicus 2). When a prisoner was delivered to Newgate, claimed the pamphlet, he was held down by two Trunchion Officers while another two picked his Pockets, claiming Six pence apiece as a privilege belong to their Office (Tuus inimicus 6). Extortion was not, however, the exclusive domain of the keepers. After the keepers collected their prize: they turn [the prisoner] out to the convicts, who hover about him (like so many crows about a piece of Carrion) for Garnish, which is Six Shillings and Eight pence, which they, from an old Custom, claim by Prescription, for entering into the Society. Tuus inimicus 6 As early as the late fourteenth century the Court of Aldermen had attempted to regulate the charges gaolers levied on prisoners, by prohibiting the charging of fees for entry and for removing their irons (Tuus inimicus 46). Those rules were, however, ignored by the gaolers of Newgate for most of the next three centuries. In addition, Newgate gaolers levied exorbitant fees for foodstuffs, alcohol, and beddings, among many other utilities (Babington; Halliday; Griffiths). Gaolers were even known for charging male prisoners a fee for admission to women’s quarters (Halliday 32-33). Female prisoners did not necessarily detest the practice, as becoming pregnant could often delay their execution or punishment. Those who could not afford the fees were subjected to cruel treatment, and in the words of James Whiston in , were thrown into holes and dungeons to be devoured by famine and disease (Whiston 13).

The impact of the gaolers on prisoners’ lives is best glimpsed through a London mayoral proclamation from September 1617: Whereas of late, notorious mutinies and outrages have been committed by the prisoners within the gaol of Newgate, which is conceived to grow through the negligence of the keepers in suffering their prisoners to become drunk and disordered, permitting them wine, tobacco, excessive strong drink, and resort to women of lewd behaviour. Babington 48 It is evident, however, that the gaolers were not merely negligent, but that they deliberately profited from supplying prisoners with such contraband and from condoning lewd behaviour.

Some gaolers were especially noted for their cruelty. Alexander Andrew, keeper of Newgate during the reign of Henry VIII, was described in John Foxe’s as the most brutal of all gaolers: Alexander the keeper of newgate, a cruell enemie to those that lay there for religion, died very miserably, being so swollen that he was more like a monster then a man, and so rotten within that no man could abide the smell of hym. This cruell wretch, to hasten the poore lambes to þe slaughter, would [cry] out: rid my prison, rid my prison: I am too much pestered with these heretickes. Another side of the keeper was provided by Edward Underhill, a talented musician, who was an inmate in 1553 and was often chosen by Alexander to play music for him and his wife during their dinner time (Jowett 41).

Gaolers exploited opportunities to extort fees by subjecting prisoners to a range of abuses, such as restraining prisoners indefinitely in irons, the stocks, or in solitary confinement as a form of torture or until the prisoner paid to be released (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 27, 88). Prisoners frequently petitioned Parliament to complain about these extortions. (1642) claimed that the state of those in prison was one of apparent great misery, condemning all those imprisoned within its walls to not only a sentence of a few years, but a life of destruction and ruine (). In 1646, the popular political writer John Lilburne publicly denounced the dire conditions of London’s prisons in : some poore prisoners of late have been in the Prisons of Kings Bench, the Fleet and Newgate, where some have been robbed, beaten, put into Iron boults, dragged out of their beds at unreasonable times of the night, thrust into dungeons, starved, and also murthered, yea some also lamed by Iron fetters Lilburne.

The deplorable conditions suffered by prisoners at the hands of their keepers also inspired a plethora of literature, composed mainly by prisoners while in Newgate. Luke Hutton (d. 1598), a highwayman awaiting execution for robbery and trespass in Newgate, was the alleged author of the poem , which detailed the abuse and torment he suffered at the hands of his keeper: Within his clutches did he ceaze me fast, And bare me straight vnto blacke Plutoes cell: When there I came, he me in Lymbo cast, A Stigion lake, the dungion of deepe hell: But first my legs he lockt in Iron boult, As if poore I had beene some wanton Coult. And then he gan with basest termes to braide, And then he threats as though he would me kill: And then he daunces for he me betrayd, And then speakes fayre, as though he ment no ill: Then like Madusa doth he shake his locks, And then he threatens me with Iron stocks. At last he left me in that irksome den, Where was no day for there was euer night: Woes me thought I, the abject of all men, Clouded in care, quite banished from light: Robd of the Skie, the Scartes, the day, the Sunne, This Dog, this Diuell, hath all my ioyes vndun. Hutton

Overcrowding

In the period c. 1550-1630, there was an increase in prosecutions for both felonies and petty crimes, which may have been a factor in the overcrowding at Newgate (Sharpe 126). Accommodation within the prison was determined by payment to their keepers. Those who could afford the civility money (6s 6d for debtors and 14s 10d for felons in the late seventeenth century) were admitted to the Masters’ side, the rooms of which were furnished with beds and windows (Sharpe 126; Halliday 32-33). Those who could not afford the charges were condemned to the Common’s side, which consisted of unlighted and unhygienic dungeons. An observer recounted hearing in the Common’s side lice crackling under feet, [making] such a noise, as walking on shells which are strew’d over garden walks (Tuus inimicus 7). Prisoners who were committed to the Common’s side had to share a ward with many others. In 1626, Sir Nicholas Poyntz, a murder suspect imprisoned at Newgate, complained that he had to sleep in a coffin due to a lack of sleeping space (Tuus inimicus 55). One prisoner in the 1630s described his experience of [lying] in a dungeon for fourteen days without light or fire, living on a halfpenny worth of a bread a day (Babington 55). Overcrowding did not subside, and the authorities were well aware of it. In 1633, a committee from the Court of Aldermen was formed in order to view the ruins of Newgate, upon which it was discovered that the prison was overcrowded, containing double the number of prisoners it had capacity for, and that the prison was indeed in a ruinous state (Halliday). In 1642, an Old Bailey bench observed in their sentence that Newgate hath not been more replenished with prisoners these many years than now, there being very nigh three hundred prisoners committed to that infamous castle of misery (Griffiths 110-111).

Food and Drink

Newgate prisoners had to supply most of their own subsistence. Those who could afford to buy their own food were given it via the gaolers, again after the payment of a fee. The impoverished could only rely on the crudest prison diet of bread and water, and very rarely meat (Tuus inimicus 6). Since the thirteenth century, Newgate’s food supply had come from charitable donations and foodstuff declared forfeit by law, such as the unsatisfactory products of guilds and merchants (Griffiths 51-53). These practices continued through the sixteenth century. In his 1556 will, Thomas Cuttell donated a portion of his wealth to the parish church of St. Dunstan’s, and ordered that: at the end of every quarter of the year, with 16s. parcel of the issues of the said tenement, the said Churchwardens shall provide 1 quarter of beef and 1 pack of oatmeal, and distribute the same among the poor prisoners of Newgate to the intent that they may be comforted by my said gift Fry.

Prior to 1630, collection and distribution of those charitable donations and forfeits to Newgate were the sole responsibility of an official called the Steward. In 1630, Newgate prisoners protested against the incumbent Steward named Henry Woodhouse for his extensive embezzlement of the supply under his custody. A 1632 City of London document contains orders relating to the governance of Newgate, requiring all donations and forfeits to be given to and distributed from the Court of Aldermen itself on a quarterly basis. The Steward, who remained responsible for sub-distribution within Newgate, was required to be elected by the prisoners among themselves for a one-year term, making the process accountable to prisoners. Instead of continuing to put a weekly allowance into a common box, the Steward of Newgate was ordered to weekly give an account in writing under his hand [of] how, and in what manner the moneyes have beene disbursed (). Charitable donations were still allowed to be put into a common box, but the document specifies that the box could only be opened with two keys, one of which was held by the Alderman and the other by the Steward. Although the existence of this document highlights how significant a problem corruption was at Newgate, it is unclear whether these orders were strictly enforced, as little seemed to change.

With the combination of poor living conditions and inescapable corruption, prisoners faced an unpleasant and difficult experience at Newgate. They spent most of their time drinking and gambling. Following the proclamation against abuses in 1617, the Court of Aldermen attempted to curb the disorder by restricting the supply of beer, ale and tobacco into the gaol, and prohibiting games involving cards and dice. However, those rules were again ignored for most of the next two centuries. Prisoners were pretty often elevated with outlandish liquors, claimed the author of , opting to spend their Time in Tipling, [rather] than spare an Hour in a Day to pray for their Deliverance from the Burden of Affliction (Tuus inimicus 1). For the prisoners, drinking was an escape from the harsh realities of prison life. Likewise, gaolers condoned drinking not only as a line of income for themselves, but also as an effective means of pacifying the prisoners. One keeper in 1787 remarked that when the prisoners are drunk they tend to be docile and quite free from rioting (Tuus inimicus 38).

Rioting

Unsurprisingly, tensions were high, which often resulted in riots and disturbances. Rioting was a known problem in early seventeenth-century Newgate, especially among the felons. In 1642, a group of six Jesuits who preached inside Newgate while awaiting execution were pardoned after a tumultuous mutiny among the other prisoners, who refused to die without the Jesuits (Babington 55-56). In 1648, a group of seventeen condemned prisoners rioted during the evening funeral sermon arranged for them, having been supplied weapons by their wives who were permitted to join them for the service. In the affray several keepers were wounded and 15 prisoners managed to escape (). However, there were ways in which the prison officials could respond to these disturbances. A bell was rung twice if there was any great Tumult or Uproar among the Prisoners, and this bell would rouse the guards to stop the riot (Tuus inimicus 8). However, it is possible that the guards’ responses to riots and disturbances were sometimes influenced by corruption. A 1655 summary of the laws and statutes of England notes that [i]f a Constable or other such Officer shal arrest one for Felony, and after suffer him to escape, it is felony in such Constable (Collyn). This is indicative that laws were needed to deter guards from aiding prisoners, as guards too were likely compelled by Newgate’s deplorable conditions.

Lack of ventilation and disease

Newgate, from its beginnings, developed a reputation for being in a constant state of disrepair: dirty, overcrowded and poorly ventilated. The abysmal conditions within the prison acted as a catalyst for the spread of disease throughout Newgate from as early as the thirteenth century. The cells were cramped, dark and damp, and the prison was poorly ventilated (Durston 747). The prison was built over two underground ditches which were used as drains. In 1316, Edward II ordered workers to repair this chamber and sewer (cloacum) of Newgate gaol which was to be rebuilt and restored at all speed (Winter 67-69). It is very likely that these underground water channels, along with the proximity of the goal to the city ditch, would have been the source of the constant noisome odours that prisoners frequently complained about. They were attested to by Edward Underhill, who was arrested and sent to Newgate in 1553 for a ballad against the queen. Underhill wrote that he could not sleep at Newgate because ther was so mouche noyse off presonars, and evyll savours (qtd. in Bassett 244).

The severe overcrowding, combined with an assemblage of unwashed, verminous, often starving prisoners lead to frequent outbreaks of gaol fever, or typhus, as well as death by exposure (Durston 747; Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 93; de Groot 196; Gamini 170). Penniless prisoners were particularly vulnerable, as large numbers of poor prisoners were often confined together in small cells (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 93). Gaol fever threatened to wipe out the majority of the prison population, and in 1419, the prison was closed temporarily to avoid a higher death toll (Bassett 246). It was due to these unacceptable conditions at Newgate that Richard Whittington provided funds in his will for the complete rebuilding of the prison in 1423 (Bassett 239). Despite this reconstruction of the building, disease was still rampant. In 1630, a fisherman named Stephen Smith committed to Newgate for violating plague precaution rules petitioned the Court of Aldermen for his release, crying that he was unlikely to survive imprisonment due to his advanced age and the appalling conditions. He described that overcrowding in Newgate incubated an infectious malignant fever which sends many to their long home (Bassett 55; Griffiths 120). In 1634, a 58 year old priest named Thomas Reynolds, who had been imprisoned at Newgate for five years, also petitioned for his release. He pleaded that the unwholesomeness of the air and strictness of the prison was putting his life at great peril. He further produced a doctor’s statement certifying he suffered from sciatica, defluxion of rheum and stone (Bassett 55).

The abysmal conditions at Newgate were well known in contemporary English society. The general condition of prisons was comedically highlighted in a series of short poems and anagrams of the word prisone by the water poet John Taylor: PRISONE. Anagramma. NIP SORE. There men are Nip’d with mischiefes manifold, With losse of freedome, hunger, thirst, & cold With Mourning shirts, and sheets, & lice some store; And thus a Prisone truly doth Nip sore. PRISONE. Anagramma. IN ROPES. Againe the very word portends small hopes, For he that’s in a Prisone is In Ropes. Taylor sig. A5v

Press-Yard

However, these conditions were ameliorated for certain prisoners. From the late seventeenth century at the latest, especially wealthy or privileged State prisoners such as political dissidents and rebels were kept in a separate section of Newgate known as the Press Yard, whither none but persons that have Money to pay extravagant Prizes for their Lodging and Entertainment are admitted (). The Press Yard was in an adjoining building to the gate, in the former Phoenix Inn. It is not clear when the Press Yard was made part of the prison; it is not mentioned in any account until the seventeenth century and so it is possible that it was created after the Great Fire. In 1699 one inmate, known only as E.S. a gentleman, described it as a pleasant place: When I came there, I must own I was something surprized to find such a great alteration both in the place and persons. The place it self was well enough, only a little obnoxious by an ungrateful stink, which I suppose might be deriv’d to it from the Common Side: The persons had most of ’em the Looks and Carriage of Gentlemen; and, to give ’em their due, behav’d themselves with a great deal of Courtisie and Civility to me as a Stranger .

The Press Yard may have been the place where peine forte et dure had been practiced at Newgate until its abolition in 1772, although Daniel Defoe, who wrote about his stay there in 1717, was skeptical of this etymology, and it seems unlikely that such a brutal punishment would be carried out where wealthier prisoners lived. Those who sought admission were charged 20 guineas on entry, and then 11s per week (Defoe 11). Those exorbitant fees granted those who could afford it tremendous freedom and comfort. Not only were they given food and wine on par with that of the Governor of Newgate, they were free to do as they pleased within Newgate, including engaging in sports and games. Defoe described it as a having a very relaxed atmosphere: I was no sooner let into this Enchanted Castle, but the Gentlemen that were Tenants of it, flock’d round me to take a view of their New unfortunate Companion: Some were Drinking with Friends, some Reading, others playing at Skettles, where there was scarce room to set up the Pins; and a fourth sort were talking extravagantly of Politicks, and of the Progress their Friends made in the Insurrections of Northumberland and Scotland. Defoe 12 Family were also permitted to live with the Press Yard prisoners. One Major Bernardi married and raised ten children during his incarceration in the Press Yard, and died at the age of 82 in 1736 (Griffiths 230).

Remedies for overcrowding

One customary method the State employed to reduce overcrowding was dispatching prisoners to military service. This allowed Newgate to make use of their prisoners fighting the King’s wars instead of letting them contribute to overcrowding and adding to the expenses of keeping them. The Recorder of London in summer 1624 sent the Secretary of State a list of 30 prisoners and stressed that They Pester the gaol in this hot weather, and would do better service as soldiers (Babington 50). This practice also appeared to be an effective means for condemned prisoners to escape execution. In January 1645, Parliament received a petition from a group of 40 condemned Newgate prisoners begging for mercy. They argued that for most of them it was their first offence, and furthermore that any of them who shall be thought for Employment will with all Alacrity and Chearfulness adventure their Lives in any Service whatsoever for the Parliament and State ( 10 January 1645). Parliament granted them pardon on the same day the petition was received, which indicates that volunteering for service in exchange for pardon was an established, state-endorsed practice for Newgate prisoners, at least during this period of civil war.

Royal pardon was also used conveniently to ease the management of Newgate. Between 1629 and 1630 Newgate underwent repairs and renovation under the recommendations of the Court of Aldermen. In 1630, the keeper petitioned the King and voiced his concern that Newgate’s poor conditions and overcrowding could lead to a mass prisoner breakout during the renovation. To solve this problem, the keeper requested the King to order the Lord Mayor of London and the Attorney General to account for how many [prisoners] are capable of His Majesty’s mercy and to prepare for their pardon. A reduction in prisoners would make supervision easier for the keeper. Consequently, forty-four prisoners were granted pardon and released (Babington 50). Additionally, there was a tradition at the accession of a new monarch to pardon a number of condemned prisoners, and James II released 76 prisoners in 1658.

The cruel and oppressive treatment of the keepers contrasted with the relative autonomy that prisoners experienced during their time in Newgate, which cultivated the unique social and communal nature of prison life. Prisoners could roam freely within the prison and spend the day (and much of the night) in idle pursuits, such as talking, drinking and gambling (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 91, 92). Although separate wards existed for male and female prisoners, segregation was either not possible or not enforced (Brodie, Croom, and O’Davies 14). Prisoners were also allowed visits from family, friends, business associates or their lawyers, and free men and women even resided in the gaol (Murray 153). The wives and servants of noble inmates and debtors, for example, often lived with these prisoners in their cells (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 92). Gaolers frequently allowed prostitutes to lease rooms in the gaol for a fee (Harding, Hines, Ireland, and Rawlings 92). Day leave might be granted to prisoners for a fee so that they could conduct their business, but were required to return by the end of the day (Murray 153). While poorer prisoners might be confined within the prison walls, they often shared cells and meals with other prisoners (Murray 155). Thus, the constraint of imprisonment was somewhat tempered by the social and communal nature of prison life, and in which liberties could be obtained for a price.

However, although the conditions at Newgate were undoubtedly poor, it is debatable whether it was much worse than other late medieval and early modern prisons (Bassett 246). The Press Yard comprised several rooms on the ground floor and had large windows (Tuus inimicus 4). Furthermore, as recounted by an anonymous early eighteenth-century commentator, when the prisoners are disposed to recreate themselves with walking, they go up into a spacious room call’d the High-Hall (Tuus inimicus 7). Further, an exercise ground existed, though it was described as a place whose length is scarce so much as one may swing a cat in it (Tuus inimicus 4). Thus, although the prisoners at Newgate faced extremely poor living conditions, this was not particularly exceptional in the late medieval and early modern period, and they also had some—albeit limited—opportunities for recreation.

Some criminals were even able to escape punishment entirely. These methods involved generous jury decisions, pardons and reprieves, bribes and given mercy afforded by benefit of the clergy. Particularly, many male offenders evaded the punishment of law by claiming the benefit of clergy. Based on an ancient tradition intended to reserve churchmen for punishment in the church courts, the convict who displayed his ability to read was given the much lighter sanctions of the ecclesiastical jurisdiction (Kesselring 24). The convict would be branded on the thumb to prevent him from claiming the benefit again. From 1623 women found guilty of the theft of goods less than ten shillings in value were also allowed benefit of clergy, and in 1691 women were granted the privilege on the same terms as men (, ). Women could also plead the belly, however this only deferred execution until (usually) forty days after the child’s birth. While it did not afford a permanent pardon, in reality many women managed to escape justice this way. Certain circumstances even resulted in criminals physically escaping Newgate, such as Jack Sheppard, a notorious thief and gaol-breaker who regularly escaped from Newgate prison until his execution on 16 November 1724 ().

The Ordinary of Newgate

The Ordinary of Newgate was the prison chaplain, who was appointed by the Court of Aldermen. He performed multiple pastoral tasks within the prison: preaching to, instructing, and praying with the prisoners, and attending upon those who were condemned to die. He delivered the condemned sermon in the prison chapel, gave them the Sacrament, rode with the condemned to Tyburn, and led the prisoner and the crowd in the singing of hymns at the gallows. The Ordinary was the author of the , a publication that ran from 1676 to 1772 and contained biographies and the last dying speeches of the prisoners executed at Tyburn (McKenzie). Profits from the were considerable: the Ordinary could earn up to £200 per year in the eighteenth century from sales of the publication (, ). Over 400 editions of the were published, and they were sold for 3-6 pence with print runs in the thousands. Most of the followed a similar format, with a short summary of the names and crimes of the condemned, short biographical sketches of each criminal, accounts of the Ordinary’s visits to the condemned prisoners, and a description of their final confessions and behaviour at their executions. They were highly moralising, usually describing the convict’s life as a descent from minor sins to a career of delinquency and crime. Some objections were raised to the Ordinary’s : he was profiting from the deaths of convicts, and there were allegations of corruption and bribery. Some prisoners chose not to speak to him, which could be either because they resented his profiting from their fate or because they were of different faiths.

Women at Newgate

The nature of the diverse inmate population at Newgate undoubtedly shaped its history. Whereas modern prisons house genders separately and house juveniles separately from adults, Newgate contained all age groups and sexes. In 1406, land on the south side of the prison gate was given to the sheriffs for the purpose of building a tower which would become separate women’s chambers (Bassett 238-239). However, these new quarters did nothing to change the miserable nature of the female experience at Newgate. Women in the prison were said by commentators to be idle, abandoned, riotous and drunken (Thornbury). Another common narrative is that the women’s quarters were rife with sexual encounters between inmates and administration (Babington 101). The existence of sexual encounters at Newgate is supported by the evidence of women becoming pregnant and giving birth while in prison. The anonymous author of wrote that women were able to escape the death penalty by pleading their Bellies and hence the Women [had] a great Advantage over the Men (Tuus inimicus 10). In 1782, the prison contained a total of 291 prisoners, of which 225 were men and 66 were women (Thornbury).

Publications about the trials of Newgate prisoners frequently featured women, their crimes often sensationalised, as female convicts became the focus of the public’s interest in Newgate. Henry Goodcole’s 1635 pamphlet , which describes the confession and execution of a woman who poisoned her husband, is one such example of authors and publishers profiting from this misogynist angle, its contents likening women to the devil (Goodcole).

The role of women at Newgate was not confined simply to inmate. Many visitors to the establishment were women, and often these individuals were stirred by what they witnessed. The prison reformer Elizabeth Fry wrote to her young sons in 1813 after having visited the prison, expressing concern at the little infants almost without clothing and lack of food provided to women and mothers staying at Newgate (Gurney Fry 348). In 1817, the Ladies’ Prison Visiting Association began to advocate for the rights of female prisoners, having witnessed their extensive tribulations. The committee began to revolutionise prison life for Newgate women, teaching them to read, knit, spin wool and make patchwork. If they were able, prison visitors would sell the prisoners’ works to London citizens and set aside the profits for when the individuals were released. Many children had been born at Newgate and, for them, schools were set up and governed by the eldest and most educated of the female prisoners (Thornbury).

Pressing, or peine forte et dure

While torture could be inflicted to extort fees, it could also be levied to extract a confession from accused felons. Accused felons who were found guilty would forfeit their possessions to the Crown, as well as be executed. However, it was possible for accused felons to refuse to plead guilty to retain their money and property for their families. The consequence of this, however, was to be subjected to pressing, a form of severe and sustained torture that lasted until the prisoner pled guilty or died (McKenzie 303-304). This was a common practice throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and accused felons who refused to plead guilty would spend the remainder of their days in the Press Room of Newgate being tortured until their death. In 1658, Major George Strangwayes was sentenced to: be put into a mean house (the Press Room), stopped from any light, and be laid upon his back with his body bare; that his arms be stretched forth with a cord, the one to one side, the other to the other side of the prison, and in like manner his legs be used; and that upon his body be laid as much iron and stone as he can bear, and more and this shall be his punishment till he die . It was said by some that this ritual took place in the Press-Yard, but it would appear that the Press-Yard and the Press Room were different places.

Newgate was most notorious, however, as the place condemned felons spent their last days before their public execution. Newgate was situated close to Smithfield, the favoured place for executing those convicted of treason, as well as those convicted of petty treason, the verdict given to any woman who had murdered her social superior, such as her husband, master, or mistress (Halliday xii). Its location meant that Newgate was particularly important during religious trials in the Tudor period, such as those of the Protestant martyrs described in John Foxe’s . Moreover, the position of Newgate at the western gate of the city meant that it was the starting-point of the ritualised procession route to Tyburn, London’s most notorious extra-mural execution site (near present-day Marble Arch). Indeed, the process of execution was even ingrained in Newgate’s architecture. Its chapel featured a condemned pew on which convicts would sit on the Sunday before their executions (Kalman 56). Executions were customarily scheduled on Mondays, and activities before execution were highly ritualised. On the day before, the Ordinary of Newgate held a special funeral for the condemned prisoners in the chapel. The prisoners ritually sat around a coffin which signified their imminent death, while the Ordinary preached a condemned sermon to what was almost invariably a full Auditory, swelled by numerous Strangers who had paid admission fees to the gaolers (McKenzie 7).

In 1605, Robert Dowe, a citizen and merchant taylor donated 16s. 8d. to the parish church of St. Sepulchre’s, next to Newgate, on the condition that: after the several sessions of London, on the night before the execution of such as were condemned to death, the clerk of the church was to go in the night-time, and also early in the morning, to the window of the prison in which they were lying. He was there to ring certain tolls with a hand-bell appointed for the purpose, and was afterwards, in a most Christian manner, to put them in mind of their present condition and approaching end, and to exhort them to be prepared, as they ought to be, to die. When they were in the cart, and brought before the walls of the church, the clerk was to stand there ready with the same bell, and, after certain tolls, rehearse a prayer, desiring all the people there present to pray for the unfortunate criminals. Tuus inimicus

The chant accompanying the bell gradually evolved into the following verses: All you that in the condemn’d Holds do lie, Prepare you, for to Morrow you shall die; Watch all and pray, the Hour’s drawing near, That you before th’ Almighty must appear: Examine well your selves, in time repent, That you may not t’eternal Flames be sent; And when St. Pulcher’s Bell, to morrow, tolls, The Lord above have Mercy on your Souls. Tuus inimicus 11. The hand bell that was used to announce imminent executions, the Newgate Execution Bell, is still on display in the St. Sepulchre-Without-Newgate Church. The ringing of St. Sepulchre’s bell was the first stage of the execution procession, or drawing, when the condemned prisoners would be loaded onto a cart to make the journey to Tyburn. The bell would be rung in the morning, signaling to the surrounding neighbourhood that the execution procession was about to begin.

The Parish of St. Sepulchre was notoriously poor and dirty, and also a starting place for pauper processions bound for richer parts of the city (Griffiths 85, 113). In 1596, a watchman John Bull looked out for and interrupted vagrants before they could arrive at the church and beg outside the doors (Griffiths 117). Concerns over vagrants in the neighbourhood were no doubt exasperated by the presence of Newgate prison, due to its prisoners spilling out to beg in the surrounding areas.

Newgate Market and the Prison

Newgate Market began as a meat market during the twelfth century and quickly evolved to become a bustling centre of activity. Newgate Street was not commonly referred to as such until the seventeenth century. The road was interchangeably known as Bladder Street or the Butchers due to the large number of butchers and slaughterhouses operating along the street and at Newgate Market (). Public complaints of unpleasant streets saw butchers banned from killing animals in the City during the fourteenth century (Sabine 345–346). Most would remove the innards of animals on special piers allowing waste to be directly deposited into the Thames and Fleet (Sabine 345–346). Butchering did still occur within the city despite these rules, as evidenced by the existence of slaughterhouses along Newgate Street. The River Fleet, which also received sewage from Newgate and surrounding areas, was highly polluted during this time. Newgate Market was also the site of gendered anxieties about vagrant women street sellers, specifically of fish and herbs. Steps to limit street selling accelerated towards 1600 (Griffiths 127). The designated area for hearbwyves to sell was Newgate Market, as it was more effective to restrict sellers to a specific time and place than to attempt to ban or prosecute them, specifically for selling at night and on the sabbath (Griffiths 127). Street sellers would have been an unmissable feature of the neighbourhood due to their loud cries.

Charitable Institutions

Greyfriars Church, a church of the Franciscans established in 1225, was central to the Newgate area. Greyfriars also comprised many domestic and storage buildings for the use of the members of its order. During Henry VIII’s Dissolution of the Monasteries (1536-1541) the church was renamed Christ’s Church and external buildings were redistributed for use as store houses, private homes and for the relief of the poor ( 9). Institutions for the poor feature frequently in the neighbourhood. Christ’s Hospital’s Blue Coat School was opened in these buildings by Edward VI just before his death in 1553. Lupton described the school as a good means to empty their streetes of young beggars, and fatherlesse Children (Lupton). The school provided these young children with an education they would not otherwise have received.