the romantic history of Newgate: foundations

In the most recent newsletter in this series, I wrote about the history of legal punishment in England. Newgate as a discrete location is even older than English law and though not always a prison, Newgate Prison was an early, if not definitely the first, state prison in the country. As we’ll see here, Newgate operates as a simulacrum of the development of incarceration as punishment in England, while its reputation grew as a notorious, othered space within the city as London developed. 

In the beginning, there was Newgate 

The history of Newgate in London seems to have always had an element of heightened drama, with tension between material reality and collective understanding. Conventional wisdom, accepted during the 18th and 19th century, stemming from the name (“new gate,” as opposed to other six gates that were a part of the London Wall) held that Newgate as a location was developed as new, more secure entry point into London was needed during the medieval period because construction of Old St. Paul’s Cathedral (begun in 1087, consecrated in 1240) created the need for detours around the city. These detours would have meant passengers were in danger of being attacked by highwaymen and Newgate would have provided a direct in-route.¹ This story adds to the cultural vision of Newgate as a passage that protects from crime and holds back a violence from London, even predating its use as a prison. 

But excavation of the site by Philip Norman in 1903, following the demolition of the prison itself in 1902, suggested Roman origins to the gate, not Medieval ones. Norman found a plinth reminiscent of existing Roman gatehouses at the edge of the Press Yard portion of the demolished prison.² The history of Newgate is as old as the history of London, it seems, but the apocryphal story of the “new gate” persists in sources throughout the 20th and 21st centuries. 

Remains of a Roman Wall, Newgate, 1903, Philip Norman

But Newgate did not just have two beginnings, one mythic and one actual, but more like a half dozen: the Roman origins of the gate, the rise in prominence of that gate in the Medieval period, the appropriation of the gatehouse as a carceral space, a rebuilding to better serve that purpose, and four more rebuildings after that. 

The commission of the Assize of Clarendon required custodial prisons in every county in England and Newgate’s gate house was one of the first buildings to be given over to this purpose. The first reference to the site as a carceral facility is in 1188, when land next to the gate was built on to be a prison, and the gate itself was converted to a prison by 1236.³ The Tower of London predates Newgate, but Newgate is the first prison in London for this general, state use, as opposed to custodial incarceration of political prisoners. 

The gatehouse’s layout created problems as the prison grew, notably the requirement for women prisoner’s to transverse the men’s quarters to use the privy. In 1423, Richard Whittington, former Lord Mayor London, bequeathed a portion of his will for a rebuild of the current gatehouse, now nearly 300 years old. With the rebuild, new administrative rules were attempted--making fees for the removal of irons within the prison “reasonable” and forbidding gaolers from making profits on food, charcoal or candles.⁴ The rebuild did not prevent prisoner unrest and there were two major riots in the prison, still marked by illness, darkness and administrators taking advantage of prisoners, in the 1450s. 

The contemporary reports of Medieval Newgate were singular in their tone: the place was fetid. The stone building created dampness and many of the prisoners were kept underground, even after the reports for the early 15th century rebuild focused on this condition as a reason that disease was so widespread in the prison.⁵ Newgate seems to have been the cheapest prison for a prisoner to occupy (with lower fees than other city prisons), resulting in prisoners with even fewer resources being incarcerated there, so privileges like better food and walking around the common spaces without irons, would have been even harder to obtain. The range of conditions for prisoners based on their ability to pay for better treatment would persist as a sanctioned state function of the prison (rather than a black market of goods) until at least 1815. 

The prison was burned, like much of central London, in 1666, during the Great Fire of London. The new building would be open six years later, designed by Christopher Wren, best known for the nearby St. Paul’s Cathedral (another building destroyed in the fire and rebuilt). Wren’s design kept the “gate” style of the building, with two towers on either side of the street. There were seven figures decorating the gate: Justice, Mercy, Truth, Liberty, Peace, Plenty and Concord.⁶ The redesign cost £10,000 (1.75 million today), but focused primarily on design and decoration of the exterior, rather than major changes to the function of the interior, including little increase in capacity.⁷ Divisions between debtors, women, men awaiting trial and those condemned to execution were often not enforced, even as the prison design supposedly attempted to provide this organization. The reports of the early 18th century of interior conditions are barely distinguishable from any report from the medieval period, beyond the style of English used. 

Another disagreeable circumstance attendant on this prison is, that debtors, many of whom are rendered unfortunate by the vicissitudes of trade, undergo the ignominy of being confined in a prison equally loathsome with that of the most abandoned villains; and it too frequently happens, that the debtor confined in Newgate is, by ignorant people, supposed to be guilty of crimes which his foul detests. These inconveniences, however, will be adjusted by the disposition of the New Newgate, where the debtors will be entirely detached from the felons; as will appear from the description of that building, which will be given in its proper place.

William Harrison in his History of London, published serially in 1775, on the anticipation of the “New” Newgate.

The City Gates of London before they were pulled down. Newgate, as designed by Christopher Wren is second from left on the bottom row. The figures as well as the windmill can be seen. From Harrisons’ History of London, 1775

The common law of England was becoming increasingly violent in its state punishment in the 18th century, peaking with the “Bloody Code.” The subtleties and consequences of this code are discussed more in the last newsletter. But in the context of Newgate, it is important to know that as this violent state punishment was peaking, reformers began looking to prisons, including Newgate, to serve as a release valve for this state violence that was becoming less and less tolerable in the public, particularly for petty crimes. 

We can define a modern Newgate as truly starting in 1782. In around 1768, plans for a new building at Newgate were developed in response to outbreaks of gaol fever. George Dance, architect, designed the building in the style architecture terrible, so imposing and terrifying as to be a deterrent in its form. The building was to be fortified and built between the Royal College of Physicians and Old Bailey, the courthouse. Construction began in 1770, but the old building and new building continually held prisoners during this process and coincided with Howard’s visits to the prison. The building was nearly complete in 1779, with primarily auxiliary features remaining to be built.

But then the Gordon Riots of June 1780 led to an arson of the building (and the freeing of many of prisoners inside). The Riots were motivated in large part by anti-Catholic sentiment and focused on the destruction of government buildings, including the new Newgate prison, the Fleet, and Marshalsea. The rioters were stopped before they could burn the Bank of England. The next day, nearly 300 people were killed in efforts to stop the civil unrest. Indirectly, the struggle of the state to respond to the riot would lead to England beginning to consider developing a professional police force, another important milestone for the history of incarceration in England. 

Along with this new building of Newgate, England was primed to change its prison system at this moment. The same Enlightenment ideals that had taken hold of Europe and created a revolutionary environment, temporarily ceasing the option for penal transportation from England, encouraged English reformers to reconsider what was to be done about the incarcerated population.

Reformers in particular worried about the effect incarceration was having on those prisoners who were not felons. Throughout its history, Newgate primarily held accused or convicted felons, either awaiting trial or execution, but also housed a substantial population of local debtors, even though there were prisons especially for debtors, like the Fleet and the Marshalsea. When John Howard, prison reformer (discussed more in-depth in the last newsletter) visited Newgate, he found 30-50 debtors in the prison at a time throughout the 1770s and there were regularly around 300 felons there. The scale of debtors was even more extreme when prisons were viewed in the aggregate: Howard’s tour revealed that 60% of the prisoners in England at the time were debtors. These debtors’ incarcerations stemmed from civil suits, so they had more rights than the felons, meaning they may have contributed more to the general unruliness of prison life. Howard published his report, The State of Prisons in England and Wales in 1777. 

The lack of segregation between felons awaiting trial/execution and those who committed petty offenses and were paying off debts could also be pointed to as a foundation to further criminality. Sean C. Grass writes that “most Englishman during the 1700s assumed that prisons played a greater role in countenancing crimes than preventing or punishing them.”⁸

But the large-scale reputation of Newgate came less from the debtors who were there than from the notable criminals who were detained there and the genre of news that reported their exploits, escapes and executions. 

The notoriety and criminality associated with Newgate also came from the Newgate Calendar. Originally published as a part of the proceedings of the Old Bailey, where after each meeting of the court, a pamphlet would be distributed detailing not only the facts, but the emotion of the trials. These began the last 1600s, but in 1773, a bound edition of the most notable cases was published, with updates added in new editions through the mid-19th century, stretching the notoriety of Newgate and its past prisoners in that century. 

Many of the most notable prisoners that would be the inspiration from 19th century novels that centered on Newgate were actually products of the 18th century: Jack Sheppard, thief, executed in 1724; Catherine Hayes, petty treason (killing her husband), executed in 1726; Eugene Aram, murderer, executed in 1759. The books that focused on these individuals were published in 1839, 1839, and 1832 respectively. Other Newgate novels were not directly based on an individual report from the Newgate calendar, but often had an element of distance between Newgate that is so presently close to late Georgian/early Victorian life and the Newgate of the novels. 

Even Oliver Twist, set in the 1830s and serialized between 1837 and 1839, featured characters that Dickens linked to Newgate prisoners from nearly a century prior (Fagin’s career borrows elements from Jonathan Wild, though other elements, including the character’s Judaism, came from Ikey Solomon, a fence, still living at the time of publication and the Artful Dodger has been compared to Jack Sheppard.)⁹ 

Literature of this period and how that intersects with theories of punishment, including why a historical view seems to permeate fictional depictions of prison, will be discussed at greater length in the next edition of this project. But first let’s look at changes that took place during this modern period of Newgate. 

re-forming and demolishing 

The public rituals of punishment shifted in England to private in stops and starts over this modern period of Newgate. In the 1780s, the processions from Newgate to Tyburn, where the main London gallows had stood for nearly 400 years, were labeled “a mockery upon the awful sentence of law.”¹⁰ In 1783, when the gallows of Tyburn were closed and public executions were moved to Newgate. As the London municipal prison with walking access to the Tyburn gallows, Newgate held those awaiting trial and execution, In 1783, the gallows’ location would be moved to just outside of Newgate Prison and they would remain there until public executions ceased in 1868. 

Side note: To contextualize the geography in terms of romance novels, the Tyburn Gallows are on the northeast corner of Hyde Park, the same park where any number of rakes fall into the Serpentine or race on Rotten Row. 

Walking Distance between Newgate Prison and the Tyburn Gallows in Modern London

While the executions were still public (taking place outside of Debtors’ Door), this ended the traditional three mile walk from Newgate to Tyburn, ending what could sometimes be up to four hours of public ridicule and assaults on a prisoner in the last hours of their life. After the Capital Punishment within Prison Act of 1868, executions were conducted inside the walls of the prison. The last execution to take place at Newgate was on May 2, 1902.¹¹ The death penalty in England would be abolished for murder in 1965 and for any crime in 1998. 

When considering changes to the administration of prisons at the beginning of the new century, Bentham’s panopticon was revisited and rejected again, now because his vision of solitary work as a method for reform relied on private management for profit. What was once the standard method of securing willing jailers, now had become abhorrent to reformers in Parliament. 

The combination of debtors and felons in one building led to some of the conditions that spurred changes in the prison. Eighteenth century prisons could be more like boarding houses than completely segregated spaces of punishment, though the squalor itself could be a punishment. Debtors would move their families in (see: Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens), further creating a population within the prison that was not fully subject to nearly as strict a measure of discipline. Additionally, fees paid to jailers could substantially improve the condition faced by some detainees, be them felons or debtors. In 1774, the Discharged Prisoners Act would abolish these fees for prisoners who had been acquitted (preventing the circumstances where someone would remain incarcerated, despite acquittal, because they owed money to a jailer for their residence). Jail fees would be abolished in their entirety in 1815.

Reformer Elizabeth Fry, a Quaker, took particular interest in Newgate’s women’s section, leading to reforms in the resources for women prisoners’ and a more robust sex segregation in the prison. A frequent advocacy point for Quakers in regards to prison is in the power of faith to reform prisoners, rather than bodily punishment. The “seeming incorrigibility of the criminal was the result not of human nature, but of a mistaken punishment.”¹² Quaker penal thought cared less about deterrence and focused instead on reformation. They focused on the social relationship on an individual level and reformation would be demonstrated by the openness to this relationship. 

Parallel reformation occurred as advocated by the Society for the Improvement of Prison Discipline, but this group focused less on the individual prisoner and more on the almost academic study of the efficiency of prisons, leading to more centralization. The goal was less about the reform of the prisoner, but the ability to police and control as easily as possible.¹³

The 1830s saw a move toward these means of control, with less access for the public to come and go and more state control over the economics of the prison, including the economy of time and how prisoners spent it. Uniforms began to be implemented and the assignment of numbers replaced prisoners’ names. The building of Millbank as a National Penitentiary, where imprisonment of five to ten years was given an alternative to transportation (as opposed to transportation as the alternative to the death penalty) is also indicative of changing notions of incarceration as punishment itself.¹⁴ 

By 1858, the interior of Newgate Prison was rebuilt to be a single-cell interior, but was once again damaged in a fire in 1877. The building space was never particularly well-suited for this new style of imprisonment. Under the Prison Act of 1877, Newgate ceased to be an punitive prison at all, and returned to its custodial roots--only holding those awaiting trial and sentenced to death. Even this purpose would end in 1880. In the years between 1880 and 1902, the building was only used as the most temporary receptacle for prisoners, given its proximity to the Old Bailey Courthouse. The building was closed completely in 1902 and would be demolished in 1903. The Old Bailey Courthouse was rebuilt in 1902 and was extended in 1972 to include the block where Newgate once stood. 

The next edition of this project will look at the history of contemporaneous fiction with a Newgate setting. 

1.  Kelly Grovier, The Gaol: the Story of Newgate, London’s Most Notorious Prison, 6 (2008).

2. Id.

3. Margery Basset, “Newgate Prison in the Middle Ages,” 18 Speculum 233, 234 (1943).

4. Id., at 240.

5. Id., at 244.

6. Grovier, at 94.

7. Id.

8. Sean C. Grass, The Self in the Cell : Narrating the Victorian Prisoner, 16 (2003).

9. Grovier, at 287-288.

10. Peter King, Crime, Justice, and Discretion in England 1740-1780, 341 (2000). 

11. Grovier, at 209.

12. Randall McGowen, “Well-ordered prison: England, 1780-1865,” The Oxford History of Prisons, 86.

13. Id.

14. Id.