PHILANTHROPY IN NEWGATE.
Absence of religious and moral instruction in Newgate a hundred
years ago--Chaplains not always zealous--Unprofessional amateur
enthusiasts minister to the prisoners--Christian Knowledge
Society--Silas Told, his life and work--Wesley leads him to prison
visitation--Goes to Newgate regularly--Chaplain opposes his
visits--Attends the condemned to the gallows--Attends Mary
Edmondson--The gentlemen Highwaymen--Mrs. Brownrigg--Alexander
Cruden of the 'Concordance' also visits Newgate--More precise
account of a neglectful Chaplain--Dr. Forde--His hatred of amateur
preachers--In his element in the chair of a
'free-and-easy'--Private philanthropy active--Various societies
formed--Prison schools--The female side the most disgraceful part
of the prison--Mrs. Fry's first visit--Her second visit--Awful
description of interior of gaol--Ill-treatment of female
prisoners--Their irons--Where Mrs. Fry commenced--The School--The
Matron--Work obtained--Rules framed--Rapid improvement of
Newgate--Female prison reformed--Publicity follows--Newgate becomes
a show.
Among the many drawbacks from which the inmates of Newgate suffered
through the eighteenth and the early part of the nineteenth century, was
the absence of proper religious and moral instruction. The value of the
ministrations of the ordinary, who was the official ghostly adviser,
entirely depended upon his personal qualities. Now and again he was an
earnest and devoted man, to whom the prisoners might fully open their
hearts. More often he was careless and indifferent, satisfied to earn
his salary by the slightest and most perfunctory discharge of his sacred
duties. There were ordinaries whose fame rested rather upon their powers
of digestion than in polemics or pulpit oratory. The Newgate chaplain
had to say grace at city banquets, and was sometimes called upon to eat
three consecutive dinners without rising from the table. One in
particular was noted for his skill in compounding a salad, another for
his jovial companionship. But the ordinary took life easy, and beyond
conducting the services, did little work. Only when executions were
imminent was he especially busy. It behoved then to collect matter for
his account of the previous life and the misdeeds of the condemned, with
their demeanour at Tyburn, and this, according to contemporary records,
led him to get all the information he could from the malefactors who
passed through his hands. In the history of the press yard there is an
account of the proceedings of the chaplain, Mr. Smith, which may be
somewhat over-coloured, but which has the appearance of truth. It was
the ordinary's custom to give interviews in his private closet to those
condemned to death, and cross-examine them closely. One day a young
fellow was brought before him, to whom he said at once, "Well, boy, now
is the time to unbosom thyself to me. Thou hast been a great
sabbath-breaker in thy time I warrant thee? The neglect of going to
church regularly has brought thee under these unhappy circumstances."
"Not I, good sir," was the reply; "I never neglected going to some
church, if I was in health, morning and evening every Lord's day." The
lad told truth, for his business took him to such places of resort for
the better carrying on his trade, which was that of a pickpocket. Mr.
Smith was not to be done out of his confession. "No sabbath-breaker?
then thou hast been an abominable drunkard?" This the criminal denied,
declaring that he had always had a mortal aversion to strong drinks. The
chaplain continued to press the criminal, but could find that he had
been guilty of nothing more than thieving, and as this was a topic he
could not enlarge upon in his pamphlet, he dismissed the lad, to be
entered in his account as an obstinate, case-hardened rogue.
But while the official lacked zeal or religious fervour, there were not
wanting others more earnest and enthusiastic to add their unprofessional
but devoted efforts to the half-hearted ministrations of the ordinary of
Newgate. Towards the end of the seventeenth century, when the Society
for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge was first formed, Dr. Bray and
other members visited Newgate, and made its inmates their especial care
for a time. A prominent figure in the philanthropic annals of Newgate a
little later is that of Silas Told, who devoted many years of his life
to the spiritual needs of the prisoners. Told's career is full of
peculiar interest. He was a pious child; both father and mother were
religious folk, and brought him up carefully. According to his own
memoirs, when quite an infant he and his sister Dulcibella were wont to
wander into the woods and fields to converse about "God and happiness."
Told passed through many trials and vicissitudes in his early years. At
thirteen he went to sea as an apprentice, and suffered much ill-usage.
He made many voyages to the West Indies and to the Guinea coast, being a
horrified and unwilling witness of some of the worst phases of the slave
trade. He fell into the hands of piratical Spaniards, was cast away on a
reef, saved almost by a miracle, last of all was pressed on board a
man-of-war. Here, on board H.M.S. 'Phoenix,' his religious tendencies
were strengthened by a pious captain, and presently he married and left
the sea for ever. After this he became a schoolmaster in Essex, then a
clerk and book-keeper in London. Here he came under the influence of
John Wesley, and although predisposed against the Methodists, he was
profoundly impressed by their leader's preaching. While listening to a
sermon by John Wesley on the suddenness of conversion, Told heard
another voice say to him, "This is the truth," and from that time forth
he became a zealous Methodist.
It was Wesley who led him to prison visitation. He was at that time
schoolmaster of the Foundry school, and his call to his long and
devoted labours in Newgate were brought about in this wise. "In the year
1744," to quote his own words, "I attended the children one morning at
the five o'clock preaching, when Mr. Wesley took his text out of the
twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew. When he read 'I was sick and in
prison, and ye visited me not,' I was sensible of my negligence in never
visiting the prisoners during the course of my life, and was filled with
horror of mind beyond expression. This threw me well-nigh into a state
of despondency, as I was totally unacquainted with the measures
requisite to be pursued for that purpose. However, the gracious God, two
or three days after, sent a messenger to me in the school, who informed
me of the malefactors that were under sentence of death, and would be
glad of any of our friends who could go and pray with them. The
messenger, whose name was Sarah Peters, gave me to understand that they
were all much awakened, and that one of them, John Lancaster, was
converted, and full of the grace of God. In consequence of this reviving
information, I committed my school without an hour's delay to my trusty
usher, and went with Sarah Peters to Newgate, where we had admittance to
the cell wherein they were confined."
Silas Told found Lancaster in a state of religious exaltation, thanking
God that he had been sent to Newgate, and praying while they knocked his
irons off, till even the attendant sheriff shed tears.
[Illustration: _Rev. Mr. Whitfield Preaching on Kennington Common_]
Silas accompanied the condemned men to Tyburn, and saw the gallows for
the first time. He tells us that he went not without much shame and
fear, because he clearly perceived the greater part of the spectators
considered him as one of the sufferers. Lancaster, on arriving at the
fatal tree, lifted up his eyes thereto, and said, "Blessed be God," then
prayed extemporary in a very excellent manner, and the others behaved
with great discretion. Lancaster was friendless, and no one came forward
to give the body interment; so the "surgeon's mob" secured it, and
carried it over to Paddington for dissection. Scarcely had it
disappeared before a party of sailors came on the scene and demanded
what had become of it. They followed the "surgeon's mob," recovered the
body, and carried it in state through Islington and Hounsditch till they
were tired. Then they dropped it upon the first doorstep. The story ends
most dramatically, and Told declares that an old woman, disturbed by the
uproar, came down and recognized in John Lancaster's corpse the body of
her own son.
After this first visit Told went regularly to Newgate. He describes the
place, twenty-one years later, but still remembered vividly, as "such an
emblem of the infernal pit as he never saw before." However, he
struggled bravely on, having a constant pressure upon his mind "to stand
up for God in the midst of them," and praying much "for wisdom and
fortitude." He preached as often as he was permitted to both felons and
debtors. But for the first few years, when attending the malefactors, he
met with so many repulses from the keeper and ordinary, as well as from
the prisoners themselves, that he was often greatly discouraged. "But
notwithstanding I more vehemently pressed through all," becoming the
more resolute and "taking no denial." His most bitter opponent, as was
not unnatural, was the ordinary, Mr. Taylor, who would constantly
station himself on Sunday mornings a few doors from Newgate, and wait
there patiently for a couple of hours or more to obstruct his entrance,
at the same time forbidding the turnkeys to give him admittance. Told's
persistence generally got him through, so that most Sunday mornings he
had an opportunity of preaching on the debtors' side to a congregation
of forty or more. His influence among the debtors was so great that they
readily formed themselves, at his request, into a society or
organization, bound by rules and regulations to strict religious
observances. In this he was ably seconded by the "circumspection" of two
or three prisoners who highly approved of his proposals, and exercised a
close watch on the others, whom they would not "suffer to live in any
outward sin." For a considerable time the debtors paid regular attention
to his preachings and the meetings of the society. After some time,
however, the ordinary "raised a great tumult," and managed ever after to
shut Silas Told out from that side of the prison.
Told was not to be repressed entirely. In spite of all opposition, he
still visited the felons, among whom there was a blessed work,
especially among the condemned malefactors. He frequently preached
during the space which intervened between sentence and execution; he
constantly visited the sick in all parts of the prison, which he tells
us he had "reason to believe was made a blessing to many of their
souls." His zeal was so great that he spared no pains to do all the good
in his power, "embracing every opportunity, both in hearing and
speaking, so that in process of time he preached in every prison, as
well as in every workhouse, in and about London, and frequently
travelled to almost every town within twelve miles of the metropolis."
Silas Told has left us several of his personal experiences in attending
upon the condemned. One of the most interesting cases is that of Mary
Edmonson, who was convicted of murdering her aunt, on slight evidence,
and whose guilt seems doubtful. When the time of her departure for
Tyburn approached, Silas begged the sheriff to let him visit her as soon
as possible. The sheriff asked him if he was a clergyman. "No, sir,"
replied Told. "Are you a Dissenting minister?" "I answered him 'No.'"
"What are you then?" he went on. Silas replied that he was one who
preached the gospel, and who wished to be the means of bringing the
prisoner to confession. The sheriff then bade Told seize hold of his
bridle-rein, and go by his side to the place of execution; although he
cautioned him against the attempt, there being a riotous mob all along
the streets, who were fiercely incensed against the poor condemned
woman. "As we were proceeding on the road,"--let Silas tell his own
story,--"the sheriff's horse being close to the cart, I looked at her
from under the horse's bridle, and said, 'My dear, look to Jesus.' This
salutary advice quickened her spirit, insomuch that although she did not
look about her before, yet she turned herself round to me and joyfully
answered, 'Sir, I bless God I can look to Jesus for my comfort!' This
produced a pleasant smile on her countenance, which when the sons of
violence perceived, they d--d her in a shameful manner; this was
accompanied with a vengeful shout, 'See how bold she is! See how the
---- laughs!'
"At length we came to the gallows, where many officers were stationed on
horseback, besides numbers more on foot, furnished with constables'
staves. When the cart was backed under the gallows, a very corpulent man
trod on my foot with such weight that I really thought he had taken it
quite off; however, the sheriff soon cleared the way, and formed an
arrangement of constables round the cart, then directed some of them to
put me into it, in order that I might be of all the service to the
malefactor which lay in my power; the sheriff himself standing behind
the cart, the better to avail himself of my discourses with her. When
she was tied up I began to address her nearly in the same words I did at
the Peacock, pressing upon her an acknowledgment of the murder in the
most solemn manner, but she declared her innocence in the presence of
the sheriff. I then interrogated her. 'Did you not commit the fact? Had
you no concern therein? Were you not interested in the murder?' She
answered, 'I am as clear of the whole affair as I was the day my mother
brought me into the world.' The sheriff on hearing these words shed
plenty of tears, and said, 'Good God! it is a second Coleman's case!'
This circumstance likewise brought tears from many persons who heard
her. When I was getting out of the cart the executioner put the
handkerchief over her eyes, but she quickly moved it away, and,
addressing herself to the multitude, begged them to pray that God would
bring to light, when she was departed, the cause of the assassination,
saying she had no doubt but the prayers of such persons would be heard;
but repeated her innocence, solemnly declaring that she was as ignorant
of the crime for which she was going to suffer as at the day of her
birth; and added also, 'I do not lay anything to the charge of my Maker,
He has an undoubted right to take me out of this world as seemeth Him
good; and although I am clear of this murder, yet I have sinned against
Him in many various instances; but I bless God He hath forgiven me all
my sins.' Her kinsman then came up into the cart, and would fain have
saluted her; but she mildly turned her face aside, strongly suspecting
him to be the assassin.
"After her kinsman had gone out of the cart, the executioner a second
time was putting the handkerchief over her face, when she again turned
it aside, looking at the sheriff, and saying, 'I think it cruel that
none is suffered to pray by me.' The sheriff then desired me, for God's
sake, to go a second time into the cart and render my prayers with her,
which when finished, she began to pray extempore, and in a most
excellent manner. When she had concluded her prayer, the executioner
performed his part, and being turned off, her body dropped against my
right shoulder, nor did she once struggle or move, but was as still as
if she had hung for three hours."
One other case I will extract from Silas Told, as it possesses some
peculiar features. It is that of the amateur highwaymen who took to the
road as a fitting frolic to end a day's pleasure. Messrs. Morgan,
Whalley, Brett, and Dupree, and two more, had dined freely at Chelmsford
to celebrate an election. Having "glutted themselves with immoderate
eating and drinking," they went out on the highway to rob the first
person they came across. This happened to be an Essex farmer, whom they
stripped of all he had. The farmer got help, followed them into
Chelmsford, where they were captured, sent to London, tried at the Old
Bailey, and cast for death. They were all of good station--Brett the son
of a clergyman in Dublin, Whalley a man of fortune, Dupree a gentleman,
and Morgan an officer on board one of His Majesty's ships of war. The
last was engaged to Lady E---- Howard, a daughter of the Duke of
Norfolk, who frequently visited Mr. Morgan in Newgate, Told being
generally present at their interviews. Lady E---- went daily to the
king, as did many other persons of great influence, to beg Mr. Morgan's
life; but His Majesty steadfastly rejected all petitions, stating that
to do so would be to show partiality and a want of justice. But the
devoted woman would not forego all hope, and, the morning before the
execution, again appeared, and fell upon her knees at the king's feet.
"My lady," said His Majesty, "there is no end to your importunity. I
will spare his life upon condition that he is not acquainted therewith
till he arrives at the place of execution." This was accordingly
carried. Brett, Whalley, and Dupree were actually tied up to the
gallows. Morgan and two others followed in a second cart, when the
sheriff rode up with the respite for Morgan.
"It is hard to express"--I again quote from Told--"the sudden alarm this
made among the multitude; and when I turned round and saw one of the
prisoners out of the cart, falling to the ground, he having fainted away
at the sudden news, I was seized with terror, as I thought it was a
rescue rather than a reprieve; but when I beheld Morgan put into a
coach, and perceived that Lady E. H. was seated therein, my fear was at
an end.
"As soon as Morgan was gone, a venerable gentleman, addressing himself
to Dupree, begged him to look steadfastly to God, in whose presence he
would shortly appear, and hoped the mercy his companion had received
would have no bad effect upon him. Dupree, with all calmness and
composure of mind, said, 'Sir, I thank God that him they reprieved; it
doesn't by any means affect me.' This gave the gentleman much
satisfaction. When prayers were ended, I addressed each of them in the
most solemn words I was capable of, which I hope was not in vain, as
they all appeared entirely resigned to their fate. Brett earnestly
craved the prayers of the multitude, and conjured them all to take
warning by the untimely end of the three objects of their present
attention. When they were turned off, and the mob nearly dispersed, I
hastened back to Newgate, and there seriously conversed with Morgan,
who, in consequence of the unexpected reprieve, was scarcely recovered."
Silas Told continued his labours for many years. In 1767 he visited the
notorious Mrs. Brownrigg, who was sentenced to be hanged for whipping
her servant-maid to death, and whom he accompanied to the gallows. His
death occurred in 1779. He lived to hear of Howard's philanthropic
exertions, and to see the introduction of some small measure of prison
reform.
While Silas Told was thus engaged, another but a more erratic and
eccentric philanthropist paid constant visits to Newgate. This was
Alexander Cruden, the well-known, painstaking compiler of the
'Concordance.' For a long time he came daily to the gaol, to preach and
instruct the prisoners in the gospel, rewarding the most diligent and
attentive with money, till he found that the cash thus disbursed was
often spent in drink the moment his back was turned. He did more good
than this. Through Mr. Cruden's solicitations a sentence of death upon a
forger, Richard Potter, was commuted to one of transportation.
More precise details of the manner in which a Newgate ordinary
interpreted his trust will be found in the evidence of the Rev. Brownlow
Forde, LL.D., before the committee of 1814. Dr. Forde took life pretty
easy. Had a prisoner sent for him, he told the committee, he might have
gone, but as no one did send, except they were sick and thought
themselves at death's door, he confined his ministrations to the
condemned, whom he visited twice a week in the day room of the press
yard, or daily after the order for execution had arrived. He repudiated
the notion that he had anything to do with the state of morals of the
gaol. He felt no obligation to instruct youthful prisoners, or attend to
the spiritual needs of the mere children so often thrown into Newgate.
He never went to the infirmary unless sent for, and did not consider it
his duty to visit the sick, and often knew nothing of a prisoner's
illness unless he was warned to attend the funeral. Among other reasons,
he said that as the turnkeys were always busy, there was no one to
attend him. While the chaplain was thus careless and apathetic, the
services he conducted were little likely to be edifying or decorous. The
most disgraceful scenes were common in the prison chapel. As the
prisoners trooped into the galleries they shouted and halloed to their
friends in the body of the church. Friends interchanged greetings, and
"How d'ye do, Sall?" was answered by "Gallows well, Conkey Beau," as the
men recognized their female acquaintances, and were recognized in turn.
The congregation might be pretty quiet after the chaplain had made his
appearance, but more often it was disorderly from first to last. Any
disposed to behave well were teased and laughed at by others.
Unrestricted conversation went on, accompanied by such loud yawning,
laughing, or coughing as almost impeded the service. No one in authority
attempted to preserve order; the gatesmen, themselves prisoners, might
expostulate, but the turnkeys who were present ignored any disturbance
until reminded of their duty by the chaplain. The keeper never attended
service. It was suggested to him that he might have a pew in the chapel
with a private entrance to it from his own house, but nothing came of
the proposal. It was not incumbent upon the prisoners, except those
condemned to death, to attend chapel. Sometimes it was crowded,
sometimes there was hardly a soul. In severe weather the place, in which
there was no fire, was nearly empty. It was very lofty, very cold, and
the prisoners, ill clad, did not care to shiver through the service. On
"curiosity days," those of the condemned sermon, more came, including
debtors and visitors from outside, who thronged to see the demeanour of
the wretched convicts under the painful circumstances already
described. The service must have been conducted in a very slovenly and
irreverent manner. Dr. Forde had no clerk, unless it chanced that some
one in the condemned pew knew how to read. If not, there were sometimes
no responses, and the "whole service was apt to be thrown into
confusion."[52]
A man who did so little himself could hardly be expected to view with
much favour the undisciplined efforts of amateurs and outsiders. In his
opinion the prisoners were only harassed and worried by the Dissenting
ministers and others who "haunted the gaol." Dr. Forde said they (the
prisoners) did not like it. "It was not to be expected of them, with
their habits, that they should be crammed with preaching and prayers."
They bore with the visitation, however, hoping to get from the preacher
a loaf, or money, or bread and cheese; although the tables were
occasionally turned on them, and the visitor, according to Dr. Forde,
"would eat up the mutton chop and drink the beer of some well-to-do
prisoner, then go to prayers, and depart." These ministers he styled
Methodist preachers, or "clergymen who affect to be methodistical
preachers," although one, according to him, was a "raggedly-dressed
Thames lighterman," who presumed to come in and expound the Scriptures.
Dr. Forde makes no mention of Mr. Baker, who must have been a constant
visitor in his day--a "white-headed old man" who was in frequent
attendance upon the prisoners when Mrs. Fry began her labours, and who
had for years "devoted much time and attention to unostentatious but
invaluable visits in Newgate."[53]
Dr. Forde seems to have been more in his element when taking the chair
at a public-house 'free-and-easy.' In the 'Book for a Rainy Day,'
already quoted, Mr. Smith gives us an account of a visit paid to Dr.
Forde at a public-house in Hatton Garden. "Upon entering the club-room,
we found the Doctor most pompously seated in a superb masonic chair,
under a stately crimson canopy placed between the windows. The room was
clouded with smoke, whiffed to the ceiling, which gave me a better idea
of what I had heard of the 'Black Hole of Calcutta' than any place I had
seen. There were present at least a hundred associates of every
denomination."
It is consoling to find that while officials slumbered, private
philanthropy was active, and had been in some cases for years. Various
societies and institutions had been set on foot to assist and often
replace public justice in dealing with criminals. The Marine Society
grew out of a subscription started by Justices Fielding and Welch, in
1756, for the purpose of clothing vagrant and friendless lads and
sending them on board the fleet. The Philanthropic Society had been
established in 1789 by certain benevolent persons, to supply a home for
destitute boys and girls, and this admirable institution steadily grew
and prospered. In 1794 it moved to larger premises, and in 1817 it had
an income of £6000 a year, partly from subscriptions and legacies,
partly from the profit on labour executed by its inmates.[54] In 1816
another body of well-meaning people, moved by the "alarming increase of
juvenile delinquency in the metropolis," formed a society to investigate
its causes, inquire into the individual cases of boys actually under
sentence, and afford such relief upon release as might appear deserved
or likely to prevent a relapse into crime. The members of this society
drew up a list containing seven hundred names of the friends and
associates of boys in Newgate, all of whom they visited and sought to
reform. They went further, and seriously discussed the propriety of
establishing a special penitentiary for juveniles, a scheme which was
never completely carried out. Another institution was the Refuge for the
Destitute, which took in boys and girls on their discharge from prison,
to teach them trades and give them a fair start in life. There were also
the Magdalen Hospital and the Female Penitentiary, both of which did
good work amongst depraved women.
Matters had improved somewhat in Newgate after the report of the
committee in 1814, at least as regards the juveniles. A school had been
established, over which the new ordinary, Mr. Cotton, who about this
time succeeded Dr. Forde, presided, and in which he took a great
interest. The chaplain was in communication with the Philanthropic and
other institutions, and promising cases were removed to them. The boys
were kept as far as possible apart from the men, but not at first from
one another. Hence in the one long room they occupied and used for all
purposes, eating, drinking, and sleeping, the elder and more vitiated
boys were still able to exercise a baneful influence over the young and
innocent. More space became available by the removal of the debtors to
Whitecross Street, and then the boys were lodged according to categories
in four different rooms. Mr. Cotton believed that the boys benefited
morally from the instruction and care they received. This juvenile
school was one bright spot in the prevailing darkness of Newgate at that
particular time. Another and a still more remarkable amelioration in the
condition of the prisoners was soon to attract universal attention. The
great and good work accomplished by that noble woman Mrs. Fry on the
female side of Newgate forms an epoch in prison history, and merits a
particular description.
Bad as were the other various courts and so called "sides" in Newgate
prison, the quadrangle appropriated to the females was far worse. Its
foul and degraded condition had attracted the sympathies of Elizabeth
Fry as early as 1813. The winter had been unusually severe, and Mrs. Fry
had been induced by several Friends, particularly by William Forster, to
visit Newgate and endeavour to alleviate the sufferings of the female
prisoners. The space allotted to the women was at that time still
curtailed by the portion given over to the state side.[55] They were
limited to two wards and two cells, an area of about one hundred and
ninety-two superficial yards in all, into which, at the time of Mrs.
Fry's visit, some three hundred women with their children were crowded,
all classes together, felon and misdemeanant, tried and untried; the
whole under the superintendence of an old man and his son. They slept on
the floor, without so much as a mat for bedding. Many were very nearly
naked, others were in rags; some desperate from want of food, some
savage from drink, foul in language, still more recklessly depraved in
their habits and behaviour. Everything was filthy beyond description.
The smell of the place was quite disgusting. The keeper himself, Mr.
Newman, was reluctant to go amongst them. He strove hard to dissuade
Mrs. Fry from entering the wards, and failing in that, begged her at
least to leave her watch in his office, assuring her that not even his
presence would prevent its being torn from her. Mrs. Fry's own account
fully endorses all this. "All I tell thee is a faint picture of the
reality; the filth, the closeness of the rooms, the ferocious manners
and expressions of the women towards each other, and the abandoned
wickedness which everything bespoke, are quite indescribable." "One act,
the account of which I received from another quarter, marks the degree
of wretchedness to which they were reduced at that time. Two women were
seen in the act of stripping a dead child for the purpose of clothing a
living one."[56]
Mrs. Fry must have gone again, for she wrote under date Feb. 16th,
1813--"Yesterday we were some hours in Newgate with the poor female
felons, attending to their outward necessities; we had been twice
previously. Before we went away dear Anna Buxton uttered a few words in
supplication, and very unexpectedly to myself I did also. I heard
weeping, and I thought they appeared much tendered. A very solemn quiet
was observed; it was a striking scene, with the poor people around in
their deplorable condition." Mrs. Fry's charity extended to the gift of
clothing, for it is recorded in her memoirs that many members of her
domestic circle had long a vivid recollection of the "green baize
garments," and their pleasure in assisting to prepare them.
Nearly four years elapsed before Elizabeth Fry resumed her visits.
Newgate and what she had seen there had no doubt made a deep impression
on her mind, but a long illness and family afflictions had prevented her
from giving her philanthropic yearnings full play. She appears to have
recommenced her visits about Christmas 1816, and on Feb. 16th, 1817,
there is an entry in her journal to the effect that she had been "lately
much occupied in forming a school in Newgate for the children of the
poor prisoners, as well as the young criminals." It was in this way
that she struck at the hearts of these poor degraded wretches, who were
only too eager to save their children from a life of crime. "The
proposal was received," Mrs. Fry says, "even by the most abandoned with
tears of joy." The three intervening years between 1813 and 1816 had
brought no improvement in the female side. Its inmates--the very scum of
the town--were filthy in their habits and disgusting in their persons.
Mrs. Fry tells us she found the railings in the inner yard crowded with
half-naked women, struggling together for the front situations with the
most boisterous violence, and begging with the utmost vociferation. As
double gratings had now been fixed at some distance apart to prevent
close communication between prisoners and their visitors, the women had
fastened wooden spoons to the end of long sticks, which they thrust
across the space as they clamoured for alms. Mrs. Fry tells us that she
felt as if she were going into a den of wild beasts, and that she well
recollects quite shuddering when the door closed upon her, and she was
locked in with such a herd of novel and desperate companions. The women,
according to another eye-witness, sat about the yard on the stones,
squalid in attire, ferocious in aspect. On this occasion a woman rushed
out from the ward "yelling like a wild beast;" she made the circuit of
the yard, brandishing her arms and tearing the caps or coverings from
the heads of the other women. In spite of these terrible scenes, the
ladies, several Friends having joined with Mrs. Fry, continued to give
their attention to the school. "It was in our visits to the school,"
she afterwards observed, when giving evidence before the Parliamentary
committee of 1818, "where some of us attended every day, that we were
witnesses of the dreadful proceedings that went forward on the female
side of the prison; the begging, swearing, gaming, fighting, singing,
dancing, dressing up in men's clothes; the scenes are too bad to be
described, so that we did not think it suitable to admit young persons
with us." This awful place had long been aptly entitled "Hell above
ground."
It was not strange that these miserable women should be absolutely
unsexed. They were often subjected to brutal ill-treatment even before
their arrival at Newgate. Many were brought to the prison almost without
clothes. If coming from a distance, as in the case of transports lodged
in Newgate until embarkation, they were almost invariably ironed, and
often cruelly so. One lady saw the female prisoners from Lancaster
Castle arrive, not merely handcuffed, but with heavy irons on their
legs, which had caused swelling and inflammation. Others wore iron-hoops
round their legs and arms, and were chained to each other. On the
journey these poor souls could not get up or down from the coach without
the whole of them being dragged together. A woman travelled from
Cardigan with an iron hoop round her ankle, and fainted when it was
removed. This woman's story was, that during a long imprisonment she had
worn an iron hoop round her waist, a second round her leg above the
knee, a third at the ankle, and all these connected by chains. In the
waist hoop were two bolts or fastenings, in which her hands were
confined at night when she went to bed. Her bed was only of straw. These
wretched and ill-used creatures might be forgiven if they at times broke
out into rebellion. For a long time it was the practice with the female
transports to riot previous to their departure from Newgate, breaking
windows, furniture, or whatever came in their reach. Their outrageous
conduct continued all the way from the gaol to the water-side, whither
they were conveyed in open waggons, noisy and disorderly to the last,
amidst the jeers and shouts of the assembled crowds.
Mrs. Fry, as I have said, endeavoured first to form a school. For this
purpose an unoccupied room was set apart by the authorities. Although
looking upon her experiment as hopeless, she received cordial support
from the sheriffs, the governor, Mr. Newman, and the ordinary of
Newgate, Mr. Cotton. The prisoners selected from among themselves a
schoolmistress, Mary Connor by name, who had been committed for stealing
a watch, and "who proved eminently qualified for her task." The school,
which was for children only and young persons under twenty-five,
prospered, and by degrees the heroic band of ladies were encouraged to
greater efforts. The conduct of the prisoners, their entreaties not to
be excluded from the benefits of the school, inspired Mrs. Fry with
confidence, and she resolved to attempt the introduction of order,
industry, and religious feeling into Newgate. In April 1817 eleven
members of the Society of Friends and another lady, the wife of a
clergyman, formed themselves into "an association for the improvement of
the female prisoners in Newgate."[57] These devoted persons gave
themselves up entirely to their self-imposed task. With no interval of
relaxation, and with but few intermissions from the call of other and
more imperious duties, they lived among the prisoners.[58] They arrived,
in fact, at the hour of unlocking, and spent the whole day in the
prison.
The more crying needs of the Newgate female prison at that date are
indicated in a memorandum found among Mrs. Fry's papers. It was greatly
in need of room, she said. The women should be under the control and
supervision of female, and not, as heretofore, of male officers. The
number of visitors should be greatly curtailed, and all communications
between prisoners and their friends should take place at stated times,
under special rules. The prisoners should not be dependent on their
friends for food or clothing, but should have a sufficiency of both from
the authorities. Employment should be a part of their punishment, and be
provided for them by Government. They might work together in company,
but should be separated at night according to classes, under a monitor.
Religious instruction should be more closely considered. It was to
supply these needs that the committee devoted its efforts, the ladies
boldly promising that if a matron could be found who would engage never
to leave the prison day or night, they would find employment for the
prisoners and the necessary funds until the city could be induced to
meet the expense.
The matron was found, and the first prison matron appointed, an elderly
respectable woman, who proved competent, and discharged her duties with
fidelity. Mrs. Fry next sought the countenance and support of the
governor and chaplain, both of whom met her at her husband's house to
listen to her views and proposals. Mr. Cotton, the ordinary, was not
encouraging; he frankly told her that "this, like many other useful and
benevolent designs for the improvement of Newgate, would inevitably
fail." Mr. Newman, however, bade her not despair; "but he has since
confessed that when he came to reflect on the subject, and especially
upon the character of the prisoners, he could not see even the
possibility of success. Both, however, promised their warmest
co-operation." Mrs. Fry next saw one of the sheriffs, asking him to
obtain a salary for the matron, and a room in the prison for the Ladies'
Committee. This sheriff, Mr. Bridges, was willing to help her if his
colleagues and the Corporation agreed, "but told her that his
concurrence or that of the city would avail her but little--the
concurrence of the women themselves was indispensable; and that it was
in vain to expect such untamed and turbulent spirits would submit to
the regulations of a woman armed with no legal authority, and unable to
inflict any punishment." Nevertheless, the two sheriffs met Mrs. Fry at
Newgate one Sunday afternoon. The women, seventy in number, were
assembled, and asked whether they were prepared to submit to the new
rules. All "fully and unanimously" agreed to abide by them, to the
surprise of the sheriffs, who doubted their submitting to such
restraints. Upon this the sheriffs addressed the prisoners, telling them
that the scheme had official support; then turning to Mrs. Fry, one of
the two magistrates said, "Well, ladies, you see your materials."
The next business was to obtain work. It had occurred to Mrs. Fry that
the manufacture of clothing for Botany Bay would be a suitable sort of
employment, and she accordingly called upon the city firm, Messrs.
Richard Dixon and Co., of Fenchurch Street, who had hitherto supplied
these articles. She told them plainly that she was seeking to deprive
them of a part of their trade, whereupon they magnanimously altogether
relinquished it, feeling loth "to obstruct her laudable designs." The
work obtained, the work-room was next prepared. The sheriffs sent in
carpenters, and the old prison laundry was speedily cleaned,
whitewashed, and got ready; after which Mrs. Fry assembled all the
convicted prisoners, told them her views and hopes, read them her
proposed rules, which, as she did not come among them with "any
absolute or authoritative pretensions," should be put to the vote. The
women present voluntarily subscribed to all, although they were
stringent, and aimed at the reform of evil and probably long-cherished
habits. These rules need not be inserted here at length. It will suffice
to say that they laid down the principle of constant employment at
knitting, needlework, or so forth; that begging, swearing, gambling,
quarrelling, and immoral conversation were forbidden; that the women
should submit themselves to their monitors, elected by themselves, to
the yard-keeper, similarly elected, and to the matron; that personal
cleanliness, a quiet, orderly demeanour, and silence at the work-tables
should be incumbent on all.
These rules were not only adopted readily, but strictly observed. In one
month a complete transformation had taken place in the women. At first
Mrs. Fry had wished to keep this gratifying result a secret, but it was
thought expedient to report progress to the Corporation, so that the new
system might be approved and established by the authority of the city.
On a day fixed the Lord Mayor, accompanied by the sheriffs and several
aldermen, attended at Newgate, and saw with their own eyes the
remarkable change effected in so short a time. The daily routine went on
before them exactly as usual. The prisoners assembled; one of the ladies
read a chapter in the Bible, then the women proceeded quietly to their
work. "Their attention during the time of reading, their orderly and
sober deportment, their decent dress, the absence of anything like
tumult, noise, or contention, the obedience and respect showed by them,
and the cheerfulness exhibited in their countenance and manners,
conspired to excite the astonishment and admiration of their visitors.
Many of these knew Newgate, had visited it a few months before, and had
not forgotten the painful impressions made by a scene exhibiting perhaps
the very utmost limits of misery and guilt."[59] The city magistrates at
once accepted the results achieved. Mrs. Fry's rules were adopted into
the prison system, power was conferred on the ladies to punish the
refractory, and the salary of the matron was incorporated with the
regular expenses of the prison.
The evidence of a gentleman who visited Newgate within a fortnight of
the adoption of the new rules may fitly be added here. He went one day
to call on Mrs. Fry at the prison, and was conducted to the women's
side. "On my approach," he says, "no loud or dissonant sounds or angry
voices indicated that I was about to enter a place which I was credibly
assured had long had for one of its titles that of 'Hell above ground.'
The court-yard into which I was admitted, instead of being peopled with
beings scarcely human, blaspheming, fighting, tearing each other's hair,
or gaming with a filthy pack of cards for the very clothes they wore,
which often did not suffice even for decency, presented a scene where
stillness and propriety reigned. I was conducted by a
[Illustration: _Entrance to Mrs. Fry's Ward._]
decently-dressed person, the newly-appointed yards-woman, to the door of
a ward where at the head of a long table sat a lady belonging to the
Society of Friends. She was reading aloud to about sixteen women
prisoners, who were engaged in needlework around it. Each wore a
clean-looking blue apron and bib, with a ticket having a number on it
suspended from her neck by a red tape. They all rose on my entrance,
curtsied respectfully, and then at a signal given resumed their seats
and employments. Instead of a scowl, leer, or ill-suppressed laugh, I
observed upon their countenances an air of self-respect and gravity, a
sort of consciousness of their improved character, and the altered
position in which they were placed. I afterwards visited the other
wards, which were the counterparts of the first."
The efforts of the ladies, which had been at first concentrated upon the
convicted, were soon directed also upon the untried. These still
continued in a deplorable state, quarrelling and disorderly, bolder and
more reckless because they were in doubt as to their future fate.
Unhappily the same measure of success did not wait upon the attempt on
this side. Many of these women counted upon an early release, and would
not take heartily to work, although when they did they were "really and
essentially improved." Nor could it be expected that the new régime
could be established without occasional insubordination and some
backsliding. The rules were sometimes broken. Spirits had been
introduced more than once; six or seven cases of drunkenness had
occurred. But the women were careful not to break out before the ladies;
if they swore, it was out of hearing, and although they still played
cards, it was when the ladies' backs were turned. Mrs. Fry told the
Parliamentary committee how she expostulated with the women when she
found they still gambled, and how she impressed upon them, "if it were
true that there were cards in the prison," that she should consider it a
proof of their regard if they would have the candour and kindness to
bring her their packs. By and by a gentle tap came at her door as she
sat alone with the matron, and a trembling woman entered to surrender
her forbidden cards; another and another followed, till Mrs. Fry had
soon five packs of cards in her possession. The culprits fully expected
reproof, but Mrs. Fry assured them that their fault was fully condoned,
and, much to their surprise, rewarded them for their spontaneous good
feeling. This seems to have been in the ascendant on the whole, and at
the end of the first year it was satisfactorily proved to competent
judges, the past and present Lord Mayor, the sheriffs, gaolers, and
various grand juries, the ordinary, and others, that an extraordinary
change for the better had shown itself in the conduct of the females.
The work done in Newgate soon obtained much publicity, to the undoubted
and manifest distaste of those who had accomplished it. It was first
noticed in the newspapers by the well-known Robert Owen, who adduced it
as a proof of the effects of kindness and regular habits. Prison
discipline was at this time attracting attention, and Mrs. Fry's labours
were very remarkable in this line. Very soon the female side at Newgate
became quite a show. Every one of any status in society, every
distinguished traveller, all people with high aims or deep feelings,
were constrained to visit the prison. Royalty for the first time took an
interest in the gaol. The Duke of Gloucester was among the visitors, and
was escorted round by Mrs. Fry in person. Another day she was engaged
with the Chancellor of the Exchequer; on a third with the Home Secretary
and the Speaker of the House of Commons. Still higher and more public
honour was done to this noble woman by the Marquis of Lansdowne in the
House of Lords, who in 1818, in moving an address on the state of the
English prisons, spoke in terms of the highest eulogy of what had been
effected "by Mrs. Fry and other benevolent persons in Newgate." After
this, admission to view the interior of Newgate was eagerly sought by
numbers of persons whose applications could not well be refused, in
spite of the inconvenience occasioned by thus turning a place of durance
into a sentimental lounge. A more desirable and useful result of these
ministrations was the eagerness they bred in others to imitate this
noble example. Numbers of persons wrote to Mrs. Fry from all parts of
the country, seeking advice and encouragement as to the formation of
similar societies. Even magistrates appealed to her regarding the
management of their prisons. In consequence of the numerous
communications received by the Newgate Association, a "corresponding
committee" was formed to give information and send replies. Letters came
from various capitals of Europe, including St. Petersburgh, Turin, and
Amsterdam, which announced the formation of Ladies' Societies for prison
visiting.
During many years following its inauguration, the "Ladies' Association"
continued their benevolent exertions with marked and well-deserved
success. They did not confine their labours to Newgate, but were equally
active in the other metropolitan prisons. They also made the female
transports their peculiar charge, and obtained many reforms and
ameliorations in the arrangement of the convict ships, and the provision
for the women on landing at the Antipodes. That the first brilliant
successes should be long and continuously maintained could hardly be
expected. As time passed and improvements were introduced, there was not
the same room for active intervention, and it was difficult to keep
alive the early fire. The energy of the Ladies' Committee might not
exactly flag, but it came later on to be occasionally misapplied. And it
will be found in a later chapter, that the inspectors of prisons were
not altogether satisfied with the ground taken up by the association.