NEWGATE IN THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY
Jesuit emissaries in Newgate—Richardson and others—Speaking
ill of king's sister entails imprisonment for life—Criminal
offenders—Condition of prisoners—Fanatical conduct of keeper
—Nefarious practices of turnkeys—They levy blackmail—
"Coney catching"—Arbitrary imprisonment imposed by House of
Lords on Richard Overton—Case of Colonel Lilburne, "Freeborn
John"—Royalists in gaol—Also prisoners of mark—Brother of
the Portuguese ambassador charged with murder, and executed.
The disturbing elements of society continued much the same in the early
part of the seventeenth century as in the years immediately preceding.
There were the same offences against law and order, dealt with in the
same summary fashion. Newgate was perpetually crowded with prisoners
charged with the same sort of crimes. Bigotry and intolerance continued
to breed persecution. All sects which differed from the faith professed
by those in power were in turn under the ban of the law. The Romish
priest still ventured into the hostile heretic land where his life
was not worth a minute's purchase; Puritans and Non-conformists were
committed to gaol for refusing to surrender their heterodox opinions:
these last coming into power were ruthlessly strict towards the openly
irreligious backslider. Side by side with these sufferers in the cause
of independent thought swarmed the depredators, the wrong-doers, whose
criminal instincts and the actions they produced were much the same as
they had been before and as they are now.
The devoted courage of the Jesuit emissaries in those days of extreme
peril for all priests who dared to cross the channel claims for
them a full measure of respect. They were for ever in trouble. When
caught they met hard words, scant mercy, often only a short shrift.
Repeated references are made to them. In the State Papers, July, 1602,
is a list of priests and recusants in prison, viz., "Newgate—Pound
(already mentioned), desperate and obstinate; . . . in the Clink,
Marshalsea, King's Bench, are others; among them Douce, a forward
intelligence, Tichborne, Webster, perverter of youth," etc. They were
ever the victims of treachery and espionage. "William Richardson, a
priest of Seville College (the date is 1603), was discovered to the
Chief Justice by one whom he trusted, and arraigned and condemned at
Newgate for being a priest and coming to England. When examined he
answered stoutly, yet with great modesty and discretion, moving many
to compassionate him and speak against the Chief Justice, on whom he
laid the guilt of his blood." He was executed at Tyburn, hanged and
quartered, but his head and quarters were buried. "Such spectacles,"
says the writer, Ant. Aivers, to Giacomo Creleto, Venice, "do
nothing increase the gospel. . . ." A further account says that William
Richardson, alias Anderson, was betrayed by a false brother, sent to
Newgate, and kept close prisoner over a week, no one being allowed
to see him. The Chief Justice, interrupting other trials, called for
him and caused him to be indicted of high treason for being a priest
and coming to England. All of which he confessed, and there being no
evidence against him, the Chief Justice gave his confession in writing
to the jury, who found him guilty. "He thanked God and told the Chief
Justice he was a bloody man, and sought the blood of the Catholics. He
denied that he was a Jesuit or knew Garnet.[73:1] . . ."
Priests were subject to espionage even beyond the realm. A deposition
is given in the State Papers made by one Arthur Saul, to the effect
that he had been employed by Secretary Winwood and the Archbishop of
Canterbury to report what English were at Douay College, particulars
of priests who have returned to England, of their meeting-places and
conveyance of letters.
These were days of widespread oppression, when Strafford, Laud, the
Star Chamber, and ecclesiastical courts gave effect to the king's eager
longings for arbitrary power. The following is from a half-mad fanatic
who has offended the relentless archbishop. "The petition of Richard
Farnham, a prophet of the most high God, a true subject to my king, and
a prisoner of my saviour Christ, in Newgate, to Archbishop Laud and the
rest of the high commissioners, whom he prays to excuse his plainness,
being no scholar. . . . Desires to know the cause of his being detained
so long in prison, where he has been kept a year next April without
coming to his answer. Thinks they have forgotten him. If he be a false
prophet and a blasphemer and a seducer, as most people report that he
is, the high commissioners would do well to bring him to trial. What he
wrote before he came into prison and what he has written since he will
stand to. . . . If he does not get his answer this summer he intends
to complain to the king, believing that it is not his pleasure his
subjects should suffer false imprisonment to satisfy the archbishop's
mind." Of the same year and the same character is this other petition
from William King, a prisoner in Newgate, "for a little treatise
delivered to Lord Leppington." Has remained in thraldom twenty-seven
months; expresses contrition and prays enlargement on bail, or that he
may be called to answer.
Forty years more were to elapse before the passing of the Habeas
Corpus Act; but the foregoing will show how grievously this so-called
palladium of an Englishman's liberties was required.
Pardons free or more or less conditional were, however, vouchsafed at
times. Release from prison was still, as before, and for long after,
frequently accompanied by the penalty of military service. This had
long been the custom. On declaration of war in the earlier reigns, it
was usual to issue a proclamation offering a general pardon to those
guilty of homicides and felonies on condition of service for a year
and a day. Even without this obligation prisoners in durance might
sue out a pardon by intercession of some nobleman serving abroad with
the king. But later on the release was distinctly conditional on
personal service. The lord mayor certifies to the king (1619) that
certain prisoners in Newgate, whose names and offences are given, are
not committed for murder; so they are reprieved, as being able-bodied
and fit to do service in foreign parts. Another certificate states
that William Dominic, condemned to death for stealing a purse, value
£4, is reprieved, "this being his first offence, and he an excellent
drummer, fit to do the king service." Again, the king requires the
keeper of Newgate to deliver certain reprieved prisoners to Sir Edward
Conway, Junior, to be employed in his Majesty's service in the Low
Countries. Recorder Finch reports that he has furnished "Conway's son
with seven prisoners fit for service; sends a list of prisoners now in
Newgate, but reprieved. Some have been long in gaol, and were saved
from execution by the prince's return [with Buckingham from Spain?] on
that day. They pester the gaol, which is already reported crowded,
this hot weather, and would do better service as soldiers if pardoned,
'for they would not dare to run away.'" A warrant is made out June
5, 1629, to the sheriffs of London to deliver to such persons as the
Swedish ambassador shall appoint, forty-seven persons, of whom one was
Elizabeth Leech (was she to be employed as a sutler or _vivandière_?),
being prisoners condemned of felonies, and remaining in the gaols of
Newgate and Bridewell, who are released "to the end that they may be
employed in the service of the King of Sweden"—Gustavus Adolphus, at
that time our ally. There are numerous entries of this kind in the
State Papers.
Sometimes the prisoners volunteer for service. "John Tapps, by the
displeasure of the late Lord Chief Justice and the persecution of James
the clerk and one of the keepers, has been kept from the benefit of
the pardon which has been stayed at the Great Seal. Begs Lord Conway
to perfect his work by moving the lord keeper in his behalf, and in
the mean time sending some powerful warrant for his employment as a
soldier." Certain other convicted prisoners in Newgate, who had been
pardoned in respect of the birth of Prince Charles II, petitioned that
they are altogether impoverished, and unable to sue out their pardons.
They pray that by warrant they may be transported into the State of
Venice under the command of Captain Ludovic Hamilton.
This document is endorsed with a reference to the Lord Chief Justice
of the Common Pleas to certify concerning these delinquents and their
crimes.
George Gardener, a prisoner in Newgate, also petitions the king in
March, 1630, stating that he was committed by the council on the
information of James Ingram, deputy warden of the Fleet, to prevent
petitioner prosecuting the said Ingram for his notorious extortions.
He has remained in Newgate since April previous, and by Ingram's
procurement was shut up amongst felons in the common gaol, whereby
he might have been murdered, and prays that he may be allowed to go
abroad on security. Here is another petition; that of Bridget Gray
to the council. She states (July 19, 1618) that her grandson, John
Throckmorton, is a prisoner in Newgate for felony, and prays that he
may be discharged, this being his first offence, and Sir Thomas Smythe
being ready to convey him beyond seas. Upon this is endorsed an order
that if the mayor or recorder will certify that Throckmorton was not
convicted of murder, burglary, highway robbery, rape, or witchcraft, a
warrant may be made for his banishment. The certificate is forthcoming,
and is to the effect that Throckmorton's crime was aiding in stealing
a hat, value 6_s._, for which the principal, Robert Whisson, an old
thief, was hanged.
The gaol calendar reflects the vicissitudes of these changing,
troublous times. There were many London citizens who, sharing the
patriotic spirit of Hampden and Pym, found themselves imprisoned for
refusing to submit to the illegal taxations of Charles I. In 1639,
"three citizens stand committed to Newgate, not because they refuse to
pay ship-money, but because they refuse to enter into bond to attend
the Board to answer their not paying the same. Divers others refused,
and were sent to Newgate; but upon better consideration they paid
their money, and were released again." The temper of the Government
as regards ship-money is further shown by the arrest and trial of the
keeper of Newgate for permitting a prisoner committed for non-payment
of this unlawful tax to go at large. It appears that the offender,
Richard Chambers, had been several times remanded to the same custody,
and had been allowed to escape.
It was highly dangerous to speak lightly of dignities in these ticklish
times. The State trials give an account of the hard measure meted out
to one Edward Floyde for scandalizing the princess palatine, Elizabeth,
daughter of James I, and titular Queen of Bohemia. Floyde was charged
with having said, while he was a prisoner in the Fleet, "I have heard
that Prague is taken, and goodman Palsgrave and goodwife Palsgrave
have taken to their heels and run away." This puerile gossip seriously
occupied both houses of Parliament, and eventually the Lords awarded
and adjudged that Edward Floyde be deemed an infamous person, incapable
of bearing arms as a gentleman, whose testimony was not to be taken
in any court or cause. He was also sentenced to ride with his head to
his horse's tail from Westminster to the pillory in Cheapside; after
this to be whipped from the Fleet to Westminster, there again to stand
on the pillory. He was to pay a fine of £5,000 to the king, and be
imprisoned in Newgate during his life.
There is nothing especially remarkable in the purely criminal cases of
this period; offences have a strong family likeness to those of our
own day. Culprits are "cast" for life for taking a chest of plate out
of a house; or for taking £100 from a gentleman and so forth. Now and
again appears a case of abduction, a common crime in those and later
days. Sarah Cox prays the king's pardon for Roger Fulwood, who was
convicted of felony for forcibly marrying her against her will. But
she begs at the same time for protection for person and estate from
any claims in regard to the pretended marriage. Knights of the road
have already begun to operate; they have already the brevet rank of
captain, and even lads of tender years are beguiled into adopting the
profession of highway robbery. Counterfeiting the king's or other great
seals was an offence not unknown. A Captain Farrar is lodged in Newgate
(1639), accused of counterfeiting his Majesty's signature and privy
signet. His method of procedure was simple. Having received a document
bearing his Majesty's privy seal for the payment of a sum of £190, he
removed the seal and affixed it to a paper purporting to be a license
from the king to levy and transport two hundred men beyond seas. This
he published as a royal license. When arraigned he admitted that the
charge was true, but pleaded that he had done the same according to the
king's commands. He was reprieved until further orders.
The condition of the prisoners within Newgate continued very
deplorable. This is apparent from the occasional references to their
treatment. They were heavily ironed, lodged in loathsome dungeons, and
all but starved to death. Poor Stephen Smith, the fishmonger, who had
contravened the precautionary rules against the plague, petitions the
council that he has been very heavily laden with such intolerable bolts
and shackles that he is lamed, and being a weak and aged man, is like
to perish in the gaol. "Having always lived in good reputation and been
a liberal benefactor where he has long dwelt, he prays enlargement on
security." The prison is so constantly overcrowded that the prisoners
have "an infectious malignant fever which sends many to their long
home. The magistrates who think them unfit to breathe their native air
when living bury them as brethren when dead." All kinds of robbery and
oppression were practised within the precincts of the gaol. Inside,
apart from personal discomfort, the inmates do much as they please.
"There are seditious preachings by Fifth Monarchy men at Newgate,"
say the records, "and prayers for all righteous blood." Some time
previous, when the Puritans were nominally the weakest, they also held
their services in the prison. Samuel Eaton, a prisoner committed to
Newgate as a dangerous schismatic, is charged with having conventicles
in the gaol, some to the number of seventy persons. He was, moreover,
permitted by the keeper to preach openly. The keeper was petitioned
by one of the inmates to remove Eaton and send him to some other part
of the prison, but he replied disdainfully, threatening to remove the
petitioner to a worse place.
An instruction to the lord mayor and sheriffs in the State Papers
(Dec., 1649) directs them to examine the miscarriages of the under
officers of Newgate who were favourers of the felons and robbers there
committed, and to remove such as appear faulty. The nefarious practices
of the Newgate officers were nothing new. They are set forth with
much quaintness of diction and many curious details in a pamphlet of
the period, entitled the "Black Dogge of Newgate." There was a tavern
entitled the "Dogge Tavern in Newgate," as appears by the State Papers,
where the place is indicated by an informer for improper practices. The
pamphlet sheds a strong light upon the evil-doings of the turnkeys,
who appear to have been guilty of the grossest extortion, taking
advantage of their position as officers of the law to levy blackmail
alike on criminals and their victims. Of these swindling turnkeys or
bailiffs, whom the writer designates "coney-catchers," he tells many
discreditable tales.
The term coney-catching had long been in use to define a species of
fraud akin to our modern "confidence trick," or, as the French call it,
the _vol à l'Americain_. Shakespeare, in the "Merry Wives of Windsor,"
makes Falstaff call Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol "coney-catching rascals."
The fraud was then of but recent introduction. It is detailed at length
by Robert Greene in his "Notable Discovery of Cozenage," published in
1591. He characterizes it as a new art. Three parties were needed to
practise it, called respectively the "setter," the "verser," and the
"barnacle;" their game, or victim, was the "coney." The first was the
decoy, the second was a confederate who plied the coney with drink,
the third came in by accident should the efforts of the others to
beguile the coney into "a deceit at cards" have failed. In the end
the countryman was completely despoiled. Later on there was a new
nomenclature: the setter became the "beater," the tavern to which the
rogues adjourned was the "bush," and the quarry was the "bird." The
verser was the "retriever," the barnacle was the "pot-hunter," and the
game was called "bat-fowling." Greene's exposure was supposed to have
deprived the coney-catchers of a "collop of their living." But they
still prospered at their nefarious practices, according to the author
of the "Black Dogge."
Plain symptoms of the approaching struggle between the king and
the commons are to be met with in the prison records. Immediately
after the meeting of the Long Parliament, orders were issued for the
enlargement of many victims of Star Chamber oppression. Among them was
the celebrated Prynne, author of the "Histriomatrix,"[83:1] who had
lost his ears in the pillory; Burton, a clergyman, and Bastwick, a
physician, who had suffered the same penalties—all came out of prison
triumphant, wearing ivy and rosemary in their hats. Now Strafford was
impeached and presently beheaded; Laud also was condemned. The active
interference of Parliament in all affairs of State extended to the
arrest of persons suspected of treasonable practices. There are many
cases of imprisonment more or less arbitrary in these troubled times.
Another petition may be quoted, that of Richard Overton, "a prisoner
in the most contemptible gaol of Newgate," under an order of the House
of Lords. Overton tells us how he was brought before that House "in
a warlike manner, under pretence of a criminal fact, and called upon
to answer interrogations concerning himself which he conceived to be
illegal and contrary to the national rights, freedoms, and properties
of the free commoners of England, confirmed to them by Magna Charta,
the Petition of Right, and the Act for the Abolishment of the Star
Chamber." Overton was therefore emboldened to refuse subjection to
the said House. He was adjudged guilty of contempt, and committed to
Newgate, where he was seemingly doomed to lie until their lordships'
pleasure should be further signified, which "may be perpetual if they
please, and may have their wills, for your petitioner humbly conceiveth
that he is made a prisoner to their wills, not to the law, except their
wills may be a law." On this account he appealed to the Commons "as
the most sovereign Court of Judicature in the land," claiming from
them, "repossession of his just liberty and freedom, or else that
he may undergo the penalty prescribed by the law if he be found a
transgressor." Whether Overton was supported by the Commons against the
Lords does not appear, but within three years the Lower House abolished
the House of Peers.
[Illustration: _Sessions House, Clerkenwell Green, London_]
Here is yet another petition from a better known inmate of Newgate, the
obstinately independent Colonel Lilburne, commonly called "Freeborn
John." Lilburne was always at loggerheads with the government of
the city. In 1637, when following the trade of a bookseller, he was
convicted by the Star Chamber for publishing seditious libels, and
sentenced to the pillory, imprisonment, and a fine of £5,000. In 1645
he fell foul of the Parliament, and wrote a new treatise, calling
in question their power. Lilburne was eventually banished by the Rump
Parliament; but in 1653 he returned to England and threw himself upon
the tender mercies of the Protector. Cromwell would do nothing, and
left him to the law. Lilburne was then arrested, and committed to
Newgate. At the next sessions he was arraigned, but refused to plead
unless furnished with a copy of his indictment. He managed to put off
his trial by various expedients till the next sessions, when he was
acquitted by the jury. In Thurloe's State Papers it is stated that
"John Lilburne was five times at his trial at the Sessions House, where
he most courageously defended himself from the recorder's violent
assaults with his old buckler, the Magna Charta, so that they have
let him alone." "Freeborn John" was so popular with malcontents of
all shades of opinion, that the authorities, from Oliver Cromwell
downward, were really afraid of him. Oliver professed to be enraged
against him, and anxious for his punishment, yet he privately paid him
a pension equal to the pay of a lieutenant-colonel, and, as Thurloe
says, "thought the fellow so considerable, that during the time of his
trial he kept three regiments continually under arms at St. James'."
The jury which acquitted Lilburne were summoned to answer for their
conduct before the Council of State. Yet there is little doubt that
the court was overawed by the mob. For Thurloe says there were six or
seven hundred men at the trial, with swords, pistols, bills, daggers,
and other instruments, that, in case they had not cleared him, they
would have employed in his defence. The joy and acclamation were so
great after he was acquitted that the shout was heard an English mile.
All this time prisoners of great mark were at times confined in
Newgate. That noted royalist, Judge Jenkins, was among the number. His
crime was publishing seditious books, and sentencing to death people
who had assisted against the Parliament. He was indeed attainted of
high treason under an ordinance passed by the House of Commons. A
committee was sent from "the Commons' House to Newgate, which was to
interview Judge Jenkins, and make the following offer to him—viz.,
that if he would own the power of the Parliament to be lawful, they
would not only take off the sequestrations from his estates, amounting
to £500 per annum, but they would also settle a pension on him of
£1,000 a year." His reply was to the following effect: "Far be it from
me to own rebellion, although it was lawful and successful." As the
judge refused to come to terms with them, he remained in Newgate till
the Restoration.
People of still higher rank found themselves in gaol. The brother of
the "Portugal" ambassador, Don Pantaleon Sa, is sent, with others, to
Newgate for a murder committed by them near the Exchange. It was a
bad case. They had quarrelled with an English officer, Gerard, who,
hearing the Portuguese discoursing in French upon English affairs,
told them they did not represent certain passages aright. "One of the
foreigners gave him the lie, and all three fell upon him, and stabbed
him with a dagger; but Colonel Gerard being rescued out of their hands
by one Mr. Anthuser, they retired home, and within one hour returned
with twenty more, armed with breastplate and head-pieces; but after
two or three turns, not finding Mr. Anthuser, they returned home that
night." Next day the Portuguese fell upon a Colonel Mayo, mistaking
him for Anthuser, wounded him dangerously, and killed another person,
Mr. Greenaway. The murderers were arrested in spite of the protection
afforded them by the Portuguese ambassador and committed to Newgate.
Don Pantaleon made his escape from prison a few days later, but he
was retaken. Strenuous efforts were then made to obtain his release.
His trial was postponed on the petition of the Portuguese merchants.
The Portuguese ambassador himself had an audience of Cromwell, the
Lord Protector. But the law took its course. Don Pantaleon pleaded his
relationship, and that he had a commission to act as ambassador in
his brother's absence; this was disallowed, and after much argument
the prisoners pleaded guilty, and desired "to be tried by God and the
country." A jury was called, half denizens, half aliens, six of each,
who, after a full hearing, found the ambassador's brother and four
others guilty of murder and felony. Lord Chief Justice Rolles then
sentenced them to be hanged, and fixed the day of execution; but by
the desire of the prisoners it was respited two days. This was the 6th
July, 1654. On the 8th, Don Pantaleon Sa had his sentence commuted to
beheading. On the 10th he tried to escape, without success, and on the
same day he was conveyed from Newgate to Tower Hill in a coach and six
horses in mourning, with divers of his brother's retinue with him.
There he laid his head on the block, and it was chopped off at two
blows. The rest, although condemned, were all reprieved, except one, an
English boy concerned in the murder, who was hanged at Tyburn. Their
first victim, Colonel Gerard, survived only to be executed on Tower
Hill the same year for conspiring to murder the Lord Protector.
Other distinguished inmates, a few years later, were Charles Lord
Buckhurst, Edward Sackville, and Sir Henry Bellayse, K. B., who, being
prisoners in Newgate, petitioned the Lord Chief Justice, March 10th,
to be admitted to bail, one of them being ill of the smallpox. They
were charged seemingly with murder. Their petition sets forth that
while returning from Waltham to London, on the 8th February, they aided
some persons, who complained that they had been robbed and wounded
in pursuit of the thieves, and in attacking the robbers wounded one
who afterward died. Sir Thomas Towris, baronet, petitions the king
(Charles II) "not to suffer him to lie in that infamous place, where
he has not an hour of health, nor the necessaries of life. He states
that he has been four months in the Tower, and five weeks in Newgate,
charged with counterfeiting his Majesty's hand, by the malice of an
infamous person who, when Registrar Accountant at Worcester House,
sold false debentures." Sir Thomas wished to lay his case before his
Majesty at his first coming from Oxford, but was deceived, and the way
to bounty was thus stopped.
FOOTNOTES:
[73:1] Chief of the Jesuits in England, afterwards executed (1608).
[83:1] A homily against play-acting and masquerades.