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The Marshalsea                Newgate Gaol                American Colonies                The World

No man will be a sailor who has contrivance enough to get himself into gaol; for being in a ship is being in a gaol, with the chance of being drowned.

  A ship is worse than a gaol. There is, in a gaol, better company, better conveniency of every kind; and a ship has the added disadvantage of being in danger.

American Clipper Flying Cloud (1851) -- Source:
                  Dover Sailng Ships CD Clip ArtAnyone who reads books about the Age of Sail (1650-1850) sooner or later comes across these passages from Dr. Samuel Johnson. They express his feelings about life at sea, and there was a degree of truth in them. A seaman was more likely to die young and live a life fraught with danger than had he stayed ashore. “One late-eighteenth-century observer computed that for every sixteen sailors who died of all diseases, eleven perished by drowning or in wrecks, and one of every twenty-five British ships was lost each year.” (Shomette, 124) But were Johnson’s words an accurate portrayal of life behind bars, or did they paint a rosier picture than the reality?

Today, we use “gaol” (jail) and “prison” interchangeably; in the past they meant different things.1 People from the seventeenth or eighteenth century never conceived of punishing someone by locking them in a cell. If you entered a prison, you were most likely a debtor or a prisoner of war, or your political beliefs or actions marked you as an enemy to the state.2 The premise was that once creditors were paid, peace was declared, or you were no longer deemed a threat to the current government or ruler, you walked out a free person.

A gaol, on the other hand, was for common criminals. It served as your “home” until your case was heard, a verdict was declared, and any punishment deemed fitting for the offense was inflicted. If judged innocent, you would be released. If guilty, you went free once your punishment had been meted out – assuming you weren’t found guilty of a felony where death was deemed the appropriate penalty.

As today, there were misdemeanors and felonies, but morality also played a role in punishments earned. The former were lesser crimes that garnered a fine or a public shaming. For example, Andrew Searle was fined five shillings in 1682 for “wandering from place to place” on Sundays rather than going to church. (Cox) Captain Kimble, who had been at sea for three years, kissed his wife in public on his return to Boston one Sunday – a crime which landed him in the stocks.

Most felonies, including stealing a sheep or a handkerchief, carried a death sentence in the eighteenth century. Mitigating circumstances and a growing reluctance for killing led to lesser physical punishments. Examples of these might involve branding (B=blasphemer, D=drunkard, or T=thief, for instance), flogging, losing body parts (such as an ear), transporting and servitude, or sitting in the stocks or standing in the pillory.

Death remained the penalty decreed for the most serious and violent crimes. The Old Testament (c. 900 BC) listed the earliest extant record of such punishments: stoning, burning, decapitation, and strangulation. The Twelve Tablets, Rome’s earliest laws, permitted “death by burning, falling, clubbing, hanging, drowning, being buried alive, and decapitation.” (Newbold, 88)

King Henry VIII of England enacted a law making death the penalty for traitors, pirates, thieves, robbers, murderers, and conspirators. William III’s “An Act for the more effectual Suppression of Piracy” made death the punishment not only for pirates but also their abettors. This statute also allowed their trials to take place in Vice-Admiralty Courts, rather than requiring pirates to be transported to London to stand trial. Until their convictions and executions, accused pirates were imprisoned.3

                      VIII by Hans Holbein the youngerWilliam III of England by Godfrey Kneller
                      (Source: Wikipedia)
Kings Henry VIII and William III of England

First Marshalsea Prison in Southwark, 14th
                      century-1811 by Edward Walford (Source: Wikimedia
                      Commons)Prior to 1700, before the establishment of the Vice-Admiralty Courts, captured pirates were taken to England. The principal place to incarcerate these sea rogues was the Marshalsea in Southwark, an area south of the River Thames, where the Admiralty housed prisoners who committed crimes (such as piracy, mutiny, and smuggling) on the high seas.4 Other pirates – particularly those slated for imminent trial at the Old Bailey or those of great infamy, like Captain William Kidd, found themselves within the walls of Newgate Gaol in London.5

Equated to being “the worst Prison in the Nation” in 1722, the Marshalsea Prison was erected when “the good men of the town of Suthwerk” were granted permission in 1373 “to build in the high street leading from the church of St. Margaret towards the south, a house, 40 feet long and 30 feet wide, in which to . . . keep the prisoners of the Marshalsea . . . .” (“Southwark,” 9-10) It was bordered on three sides by the Borough High Street, Mermaid Alley, and Angel Alley.6 To gain access you entered through a gate on the Borough and walked down a narrow passageway.
As you quit the main street, a dirty court presents itself to your view, which is terminated by large gates, closed with a massy bar of iron, fastened with an enormous padlock. The top of the high wall over it is guarded by a chevaux de frize, to prevent the unhappy prisoners making their escape. By a narrow door, which you go up three steps to, on your right hand, and which is secured with a weighty chain and a large lock, you enter through a dirty room, which is the station of the turnkey. The horrid clanking of the chain, or the dreadful sound of the lock, is sufficient to terrify you; but when you descend into the prison, it is wretched almost beyond description. Houses, in which are apartments for the prisoners, with scarce a window, except in those whose inhabitants can afford to pay for them. Walls tottering to their fall . . . (White, Mansions, 47-8)
John Strype, a record keeper, described the Marshalsea as “a long and strong building” in 1720. (White, 47) Three decades later the “houses” (above), originally erected sometime between the 1400s and 1500s, still housed prisoners.

The author of Memoirs of the Mint (1713) provided this description of living within the Marshalsea, which he referred to as “an Inchanted Castle.”
The various Spectacles in this Place were amazing, in one Place you hear a Fiddle, in another a Groan; here a Piper, there a Penitent; in another place a fat Baud, and after her a Skelleton, at the Head of fifty walking Diseases, tho I rarely met a fighting Face, yet there’s scarce a Man, that is not a thousand strong, and what is strange, he feeds all these, while he starves himself. Within you hear the Chinking of Irons, and Vollies of Oaths, while they are fetter’d from throwing ought else, at one another’s Heads. The most wretched here, Fare the best, and eat out of the Basket, while those on the other side, are ready to eat them up. (White, 53)
First Marshalsea on Borough High Street from
                  Survey of London (1773) (Source: Wikimedia Commons)
Marshalsea Prison on Borough High Street, south front of north side in 1773
Door to strong room is farthest right of building on right
[Source: Survey of London Wikimedia Commons]
The Marshalsea had a Common side, a Master’s side (five buildings known as the Horsepond, the “Oake” (for female inmates), the Nursery, the Park, and the Long Gallery). Eighty prisoners, six of whom were women, occupied twenty-four out of thirty-three rooms in the Master’s side. To share a bed with another prisoner here cost 2 shillings 6 pence each week in 1729. Total rents that year amounted to £155.

In contrast between 280 and 361 prisoners lived on the Common side; 68 of these were female. Instead of separate cells, this populace inhabited sixteen wards in three buildings. The prison also had a chandler’s shop, coffee room, and chop-house, which the inmates ran and for which rents were collected.
[T]he Marshalsea was part of a small town of prisons stretching north from St George’s Church, Southwark. As you walked, in 1729, from the church towards London Bridge along the Borough and looked to your right, you came immediately upon the White Lyon . . . an inn some time in the sixteenth century and had been recently rebuilt as the New Gaol for Southwark felons. Next door was the Southwark House of Correction or Bridewell for vagrants, night-walkers and turbulent apprentices. Then, a few doors on, the King’s Bench, for political prisoners and better-off debtors. Then, almost without pause, the Marshalsea, its buildings a mix of fifteenth and sixteenth-century gabled houses and a rather grand Jacobean court-house. A few hundred yards to the north of that was the Borough Clink, ruinous and little used except for a few miserable debtors; it was the prison of the Clink Liberty, nominally in the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Winchester. (White, “Pain,” 71)
Those initially confined within the Marshalsea were those who committed an offense within the borders of the King’s Court. The Admiralty lodged its first prisoners there in 1430. These men were housed in a separate enclosure within the prison. Around this same time debtors also came to be incarcerated here. Among the prisoners in 1561 were the Bishop of London and three others “for religion, 1 for debt, 1 ‘for Ronnynge away from the Gallys,’ and several mariners ‘for Suspecyons of peracye.”  (“Southwark”) After 1601, the principal inmates were debtors, but the Admiralty continued to send pirates and other offenders to the Marshalsea until its closure in 1842.

Sick Men's Ward at the Marshalsea for Parliament
                  Committee Report 1729 (Source: Wikimedia Commons)The person in charge of a gaol or prison was the keeper, who employed turnkeys or warders, a steward, and a deputy to assist him in running the facility. Little or no salary came with the job; he imposed fees for the usage of everything, from the irons shackling a prisoner to the rental of the cell, and each inmate had to pay these assessments. “Inmates were charged excessively while they had money to pay, and callously neglected once their funds and influence were exhausted.” (Lincoln, 23) The Marshalsea’s Deputy Keeper William Acton imposed outrageous fees in the 1720s.
[Inmates] were barely fed unless they could pay for their own food and drink or received help from friends and relatives. Those who exhausted these options simply starved until they collapsed. If, at this point, they could raise the 3d. needed to pay the fee of the common nurse of the prison, they would be carried to the sick ward, where meager rations might extend their life a month or two. Otherwise, the sick were left in their cells, and unfortunate roommates had no choice but to sleep alongside them. (It was common to sleep three to a bed.) (Lincoln, 24)
Abuse in the Marshalsea was common, sometimes terrifying. According to a 1699 pamphlet one “Woman [was] almost naked and perish’d,” having been imprisoned there for seventeen months. A Jacobite named Alexander Dallzell, incarcerated during the winter of 1711, was placed in “Irons these eight Months past, in which in the Summer occasioned two severe fits of sickness that had almost taken me off . . . I am perswaded if these irons are not Removed they and ye pinching Cold weather, together wth Lying upon ye bare boards will Inevitably cut me off in a short time.” (White, Mansions, 51)

A 1714 petition sent to Parliament claimed that more than “600 poor insolvent Debtors” faced the keen prospect of dying because they lacked necessaries for survival. Captain Derew “was found roasting a Rat for his Subsistence.” (White, 51) A prisoner could “chew upon the very Iron Bars that confine him; for no one helps him under the pinching Streights of Hunger.” (White, Mansions, 52) The wards in 1729 were “excessively Crowded, Thirty, Forty, nay Fifty Persons having been locked up in some of them not Sixteen Foot Square.” (White, Mansions, 95) One ward measured 16 x 14 x 8 feet and each night thirty-two men were locked inside. “‘The Surface of the Room is not sufficient to contain that Number, when laid down, so that one half are hung up in Hammocks.’” (White, “Pain,” 69) These inmates also had to relieve themselves inside this room, “‘the stench of which is noisome beyond Expression’,” and in the summer they “‘perished for want of Air’.” (White, “Pain,” 69)

The 1729 committee report to Parliament also mentioned the punishments belligerent prisoners received. Carpenter Thomas Bliss attempted an escape.
He’d been captured, beaten with a long club made from a bull’s dried pizzle, stamped on, loaded with heavy irons including “the sheers” that forced his legs wide apart, kept in a filthy airless cell, tortured with thumbscrews and with an “Iron Scull-Cap” “which was screwed so close that it forced the Blood out of his Ears and Nose.” (White, “Pain,” 69)
He never recovered from this ill treatment and, although released in spite of never having paid his debts, he had died in hospital two years before the committee came to the prison.

Bliss wasn’t the only prisoner in the Marshalsea to suffer ill usage. Nearly all prisoners wore manacles when they entered prison, and this one was no exception. In a 1483 inventory the Marshalsea had a variety of such restraints:
Item xvij pair’ of Sherys
Item lj pair’ Fedirs called Shakyllis
Item ij Devyllis in the neke
Item xj manacles for menys handis
Item ij Doble Colers of Iron . . .
Item xxvij pair’ of lynkis withoute Shakillis (Carlin, 270)
Torture Instruments found in the Marshalsea by
                  Parliament Committee 1729 (Source: Wikimedia Commons)Sherys were iron rings for the ankles with a long rod between them; these made certain the inmate’s legs could not be closed. Colers (collars) were either double or single. Some had chains and others had none; the length of these chains could be long or short.

Pugnacious prisoners, rule breakers, and those who required persuasion to divulge information were the ones most likely to endure torture. Thumbscrews were employed to gain knowledge that the prisoner was reticent to reveal. These devices “took many forms, the object being to crush the bones of the fingers and thumb.” (Swain, 126) Bliss’s “Iron Scull-Cap” resembled the frame of an iron beanie with screws attached to the temple region and an iron brace that kept the head and neck rigid. When the screws were slowly tightened, they caused the eyes “to start out of his Head, the Blood gushed out of his Ears and Nose, he foamed at the Mouth, the Slaber run down, and he made several Motions to speak, but could not.
7 (White, Mansions, 105) A “bull’s pizzle” measured three or four feet in length and had a knob on one end. (White, Mansions, 105) When dried, it became as hard as teak and was often used by butchers to slaughter animals. In the Marshalsea, it was used to beat prisoners.

If psychological torture wished to be inflicted, being locked in the “Strong Room” might accomplish the deed. This was a place without any windows and beneath which ran a sewer. The usual occupants were the deceased. One man, who endured six days of incarceration, said, “the Vermin devoured the Flesh from the Faces, eat the Eyes out of the Heads of the Carcasses, which were bloated, putrifyed, and turned green.” (White, Mansions, 105)

Little wonder that some prisoners sought to escape the confines of the Marshalsea. One Admiralty prisoner suspected of smuggling walked away in the late 1570s. Peter Lambert used a file given to him by his wife, Margery, and a neighbor, Alice Bevershawe, who concealed it in their clothes. Two decades later, pirate Adam Warner donned female apparel. A report sent to Queen Elizabeth’s chief advisor alleged that Warner’s abettor was a “lewd” female” who gave the prison porter “a pair of new stockings, to loosen the iron shackles around the legs of the prisoner.” (Appleby, 78) This permitted him to “putt them over his heade & soe did & left them in the hall & escaped.” (Appleby, 78) The High Court of the Admiralty questioned a twenty-eight-year-old spinster named Edey Haggarde in October 1599, but she denied any knowledge of the escape. She only agreed that she had visited Warner several times. Before his escape, pirate Peter Philip had the audacity to place his fetters in the porter’s lodge.

One man who provided insight into the life and inner workings of the Marshalsea was William Herle. He and three others were arrested for acts of piracy off the Isle of Wight and placed in solitary confinement in 1571. His imprisonment in the Marshalsea was not an accident. In addition to debtors and Admiralty prisoners, the Marshalsea also hosted political and religious ones, including many Catholics who wished to see Elizabeth dead and Mary Queen of Scots seated on her throne. William Cecil, Lord Burghley, Elizabeth’s chief advisor, needed an “agent provocateur” so Herle was arrested on trumped-up charges. To convince the collaborators that he was a supporter of their efforts, he availed himself of prison greed. “I tooke a payer of shackells yesterday of purpose, whiles I went into the garden & that hath astonied the Scott and all those of the house mervaylously.” (Adams, 266) He also explained how he smuggled items in and out and offered to do so to further their cause.
My chamber where I am prisoner doth open vpon the streete and vnder the wyndowe ther ys a lyttel house of som poore man. Almost in the topp of the house inward, ther is a hole that comith to my chamber, wherin I may easely thrust my hand. I think that with a small mater, George Robinson or borche might gett acqayntance with the poore man, and by that meane through the hole might be conveyed to me any letters, or else I might easely speake to any body, yf they would com into the striate or place. I shew my selfe at the windowe at viij of the clock in the morning, and At no one, at after dynner at iiij of the clock, and in the evening betwene seven and eight. There is allso a lyttle Tauerne wher all men resort vnto. (Adams, 228)
By putting missives into the hole in the neighbor’s attic, or retrieving a letter placed there, correspondence between the prisoners and those outside the Marshalsea was possible. By offering the use of the opening in his cell, Herle made certain he would have the opportunity to read what the messages contained and pass along the plot’s details to Burghley.

While some things might escape the keeper’s and turnkeys’ notice, they did search cells.
I am this morning comitted to Close prison . . . and am charged with heavy Irons being searched for writings. But as god would whiles I was put a parte & they sekeing an other Chamber I brake up Charles letter as ye se and put it in a darke Chinck. (Adams, 233)
Nor was Herle the only one who took advantage of these hidey-holes. “[T]he secretion of letters in ‘dark chinks’ in the porous walls or their concealment in items of clothing also suggests that the ministers, keepers, and lower-level prison guards tolerated the exchange of information, supposing (often correctly) that if intercepted, the letters or documents might yield incriminating evidence.” (Adams, 236-237)

Cape Coast Castle
                https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cape_coast_castle_II.JPG)Adam Warner, Peter Lambert, and Peter Philip weren’t the only pirates to find themselves locked up in the Marshalsea. Seventeen men tried at Cape Coast Castle (right) in April 1723, were transported from Africa to Southwark. These men had served under Bartholomew Roberts prior to his death from grapeshot during the sea battle between HMS Swallow, Little Ranger, Royal Fortune, and a third vessel the pirates had seized in February. The following pirates all pled not guilty, but the witnesses offered conflicting testimony.

Tried 31 March 1722
Robert Bevins
Stephen Thomas, who was acquitted of piracy, testified that the Bevins was rarely sober or “fit for any Duty” while with Roberts. (British, 3:97) Witness John Wingfield overheard the captain of the Cornwall, on which Bevins had originally sailed, say that Bevins was forced to board the pirate ship.

Tried 4 April 1722
James Barrow
His original berth was the Martha, a snow, and he claimed he was forced to join the pirates. Witness Jean Gowelt swore “this Prisoner . . . came armed with Cutlass and Pistols on board of them, drinking hard that Night, and the next Day following to robbing and plundering of them . . . cut off all the Heads of their Fowls, and sung at Supper Spanish and French Songs out of a Dutch Prayer-Book; and the Prisoner beat one of the Ship’s Company for coming to see what they were doing.” (British, 3:141-142) John Wingfield testified that Barrow “behaved himself extreamly civil . . . and made offer to hide himself there, if he would carry him off.” (British, 3:142)

Tried 5 April 1722
James Harris
He had only been a Gunner’s Mate for six weeks before the Fortune was captured. More than once he told Harry Glasby, who was acquitted, that “he would be glad to get away,” but did go aboard prizes. (British, 3:111) Fortune’s Surgeon’s Mate, who was also acquitted, testified that Harris had stayed in the Hold during the battle with Swallow. Two others claimed that he “was lame, and unfit for Duty.” (British, 3:112) Harris produced an affidavit from the captain of the Richard, the pink he had originally sailed on, and sworn before the mayor of Bidyford that said Harris had been forced to go with the pirates.
William Mead
Although several saw him board prizes, they also saw “him whispering sometimes . . . in order to contrive getting away.” (British, 3:112) Elizabeth Trengrove, a passenger aboard the Onslow, testified that he “was very rude to her, swearing and cursing, as also forcing her hoop’d Petticoat off.” (British, 3:112) Mead swore he had been forced and produced an affidavit from his merchant captain to that effect.

Tried 7 April 1722
Christopher Lang (sometimes written as Long)
After the pirates attacked the brigantine on which Lang sailed, they sank her and forced him to work as under the pirate’s current sailmaker to mend their sails. Witness Adam Comrie “saw [Lang] meddle with nothing in the Elizabeth but Liquor, and that they kept the poor Fool always at Work on the Sails as a Slave.” (British, 3:123) Witness James Munjoy added that Lang “was buffoon’d and ridiculed by most of his Comrades.” (British, 3:123) When he did come in contact with victims, he tended to help them in small ways. One witness from the King Solomon swore that while the other pirates busied themselves with plundering the ship, Land “was so generous as to give him a Can that” the pirates had taken from him. (British, 3:123) Lang claimed to have “run away when the Shot came thick” during Swallow’s attack; the court took pity on him because “he appeared a poor inconsiderable Wretch,” which was why they referred him to the Marshalsea. (British, 3:123)

Tried 10 April 1722
John Du Frock (also spelled du Frock or Dufrock)
Harry Glasby swore that this man was taken from the Loyd “against his Will, and believes he might then have got clear of the Pyrates; but for the Old Carpenter . . . who used with Oaths, and other ill Language to send him on Board of Prizes for what Carpenter’s Stores they wanted.” (British, 3:139-140) Another man added that the pirates, wishing to oust the Old Carpenter, chose Du Frock as his replacement, a job which he “unwillingly accepted . . . lamenting his Condition often.” (British, 3:140) Three other witnesses never saw him do anything other than take items used in his carpentry work. Du Frock said he was a “Slave to ’em.” (British, 3:140)
Andrew Ranee (also spelled Rance)
Harry Glasby testified that Ranee “was forced out of a Dutch ship . . . six Months ago . . . and attempted to go back to his Ship,” but Royal Fortune’s boatswain claimed he “should stay for [Scotland’s] sake.” (British, 3:132) Robert Lilburn, also acquitted of piracy, added that “he seemed a very civil Fellow . . . he would be merry, and drinking as others.” (British, 3:132)
John Willden
The previous August he’d been serving aboard the Lady, but Harry Glasby couldn’t say whether Willden had volunteered or was forced. He “was brisk at going in Boats, and dancing continually.” (British, 3:132) John Richards, who was acquitted at his trial, considered Willden “a half-witted Fellow, and ever in some Monkey-like foolish Action.” (British, 3:132)

Tried 14 April 1722
James Crane
After ferrying his captain over to the pirate ship, Crane was detained and expressed a desire “to make an Escape” when an opportunity presented itself. (British, 3:150) George Smithson also heard Crane make known this wish several times, and Robert Harley supported Crane’s contention of being forced. Both of these witnesses had been acquitted of the charges against them.
Thomas Withstandyenot
The quartermaster took him from the Norman “against his Will,” according to Harry Glasby, who also said that the pirates felt he would run. “When he was absent longer than they expected . . . imagin’d their Suggestion came to pass, and that he was gone.” (British, 3:147) George Smithson had seen him with twelve others and assumed they were planning “to run away with the Little Ranger.” (British, 3:147) What kept them from doing so was the possibility of discovery and the infliction of “some heavy Punishment, if not Death” by the pirates. (British, 3:147) Withstandyenot admitted he had been with Roberts’ men for eight months. During the battle that resulted in his capture, he “was wounded by the Powder that blew up in the Steerage, which . . . was set on fire by a Pistol by one Morrice, since dead.” (British, 3:147)

Tried 16 April 1722
Robert Fletcher
Witness John Tarlton “was sure [Fletcher] was forced, and had often talked to the Deponent about means to accomplish an Escape.” (British, 3:153)
Isaac Russel
Taken from the Lloyd a year before his capture, he became “Boatswain’s Mate . . . but feigned a Sickness to get off from it, often telling [Harry Glasby] it was a wicked Life they all led, yet went on board of the Prizes in his turn.” (British, 3:152) Russel testified to being “quarter’d at small Arms, but never fired any, only bracing at the Yards to make Sail.” (British, 3:152) The reasons he gave the court for not escaping when he had a chance was that he was a “Stranger” and had never been to Africa “before, which made him afraid of the Negroes.” (British, 3:152-153) Another reason given was that “it was so dangerous to trust any body.” (British, 3:153) He presented to the judges an affidavit from the merchant captain with whom he had sailed at the time the pirates forced him to go with them. He also shared that he had participated in Lieutenant Maynard’s attack and helped to take “Blackbeard the Pyrate.” (British, 3:153)
Hercules Hunkins
He and his brother-in-law were forced from Success. The carpenters he worked with “reckoned [him] a soft, silly Fellow.” (British, 3:153) One of those carpenters testified that Hunkins was a sober man, who “often talked to him of means to escape.” (British, 3:153)

Tried 17 April 1722
James Couzins (also spelled Cosins)
He was taken with two others, but neither man could say whether he went willingly or was forced.8
Henry Graves
When the pirate quartermaster took him from his ship, Graves “went crying.” (British, 3:153) Several testified that he willingly participated in seizures of other vessels. During HMS Swallow’s attack, “he was never on Deck, but kept out of the way.” (British, 3:154)
George Ogle
He was “a quiet Fellow, not swearing or cursing like most of them, and rather melancholy,” said Harry Glasby. (British, 3:155) Benjamin Parr, also acquitted, testified that the quartermaster beat Ogle more than once.
John Rimer (also spelled Rymer)
Absolved of the charges of piracy, three men testified that he willingly joined the pirates. Two others said he was “for running away at Calabar . . . but . . . the good Look-out the Pyrates kept” prevented such an escape. (British, 3:154)

Cape Coast Castle
              Cell (Source:
              https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Cape_Coast_dungeon.JPG)Rather than judge these seventeen men innocent or guilty, the court decided further testimony was necessary and ordered they be sent to the Marshalsea in London. Their transport was HMS Weymouth and they were forced to work for their passage, but were fed on half rations. Sickness swept through the ship because “a new malignant distemper” came aboard with the pirates, who became infected in the dungeons at Cape Coast Castle. (Sanders, 240) Weymouth’s first destination was Port Royal, Jamaica, where she arrived in August after four months. Of the nineteen pirates – including two to whom the court granted permission to seek pardons – only nine remained alive. A hurricane struck five days later, which delayed the ship’s departure. Almost a year after departing Africa, the pirates finally arrived at the Marshalsea. One more had died. In time, the surviving eight men were pardoned and released.

Two other pirates, who ended up at this prison and had former ties to Bartholomew Roberts, were Walter Kennedy and Thomas Lawrence Jones.

After the pirates captured Captain William Snelgrave’s ship off Sierra Leone, Kennedy was “more sober than the rest” and took Snelgrave’s “good hat and wig . . . whereupon I told him . . . I hoped he would not deprive me of them.” (Sanders, 44) Kennedy hit him on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, and then grabbed the captain, saying:
I give you this caution, never to dispute the will of a pirate, for supposing I had cleft your skull asunder for your impudence, what would you have got by it but destruction? (Sanders, 44)
Walter Kennedy was with Howell Davis when he was slain, but managed to escape the ambush. He was in the running to be elected captain of the pirates, but Bartholomew Roberts won that contest. Later on, while Roberts was off pursuing another ship, Kennedy was left in charge of the Royal Fortune. He and the rest of the pirates sailed away with the treasure. He eventually returned to England where he ran a brothel. One of the women betrayed him to the authorities, who arrested him and sent him to the Marshalsea. He was eventually transferred to Newgate Gaol to stand trial at the Old Bailey. In 1721 he was hanged at Execution Dock in Wapping.

Howell DavisBartholomew Roberts
Howell Davis (left) and Bartholomew Roberts (right)

Thomas Lawrence Jones also served under Davis and Roberts. After the latter killed a friend, Jones threatened to return the favor. Roberts stabbed Jones, but not fatally; Jones thrashed Roberts. The pirates held a trial and the majority felt the captain’s dignity needed to be preserved; they sentenced Jones to two lashes from every pirate. Since Jones served aboard Thomas Anstis’ Good Fortune, this decision caused a rift between the two crews. One night, after a soft farewell, Good Fortune headed to the Caribbean. Jones eventually left the pirates and sailed to Bristol, England where he was captured. Sent to the Marshalsea, he died in May 1724.

Robert Culliford, a pirate with ties to Captain William Kidd, also found himself a guest of the Marshalsea in August 1700. When he arrived, he discovered 99 French pirates already crowding the Admiralty’s cells. At night they fought for space on the floor to sleep. When King William informed the King of France “that he had several of his subjects in prison upon account of piracy,” Louis XIV told him to “try them . . . by the laws of England, there being no room for favour to be shewn to such vermin.” (Zacks, 333)

Culliford purchased his freedom from shackles, bought drinks in the taproom, and requested a lawyer to defend him. After eighteen days in prison, he was released after paying £200 bail, but was later re-arrested when a new witness came forth. This time Culliford was taken to Newgate Gaol where the French pirates awaited their trial and where William Kidd was locked in solitary confinement.9 Culliford pled guilty so he could seek a pardon. Rather than granting him one that was free and clear, Queen Anne stipulated that there would be no pardon unless he first gave evidence as a prosecution witness at another pirate’s trial. Once he finished testifying in 1702, he walked out of the Old Bailey and disappeared.

Daniel DefoeMore infamous and better known than the Marshalsea, even today, was Newgate Gaol. Two years before the publication of Captain Johnson’s The General History of the Robberies and Murders of the Most Notorious Pyrates (1724), Daniel Defoe (right) released The History and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders (1722). Moll walked through the forbidding gate of this “dismal Place” because she had stolen “two pieces of brocaded silk.” (Defoe, Fortunes, 213) Like many authors, Defoe infused his fictional character with remembrances of personal experience. He was imprisoned in Newgate for the crime of sedition. Moll’s fears were his:
’[T]is impossible to describe the terror of my mind, when I was first brought in, and when I look’d round upon all the horrors . . . the hellish noise, the roaring, swearing, and clamour, the stench and nastiness, and all the dreadful crowd of afflicting things that I saw there, joined together to make the place seem an emblem of hell itself . . . . (Defoe, Fortunes, 206)
The stench was so bad, it could be smelled outside the prison. In the summer, pedestrians pinched their noses shut or held their breath as they passed and shopkeepers closed up until cold weather came.

The Romans established their first camp on the north bank of the River Thames in 43 AD. After its burning in 60 AD, the Roman capital of Londonium rebuilt the city. They enclosed London within a defensive wall in the late second or early third century, leaving five access points into and out of London. (Two more were erected in the fourth century.) One of these gates was Newgate; the road passing through this entryway permitted access “to the south and west to Reading, Dorset, and Hampshire.” (Jowett, 13)

In 1154 Henry II ascended the throne of England and would rule for over thirty years. His legal reforms were “[t]he most significant and lasting” achievement of his reign. (St. John Parker, 11) He “laid the foundations of English Common Law and our jury system.” (Jowett, 14) He also decreed a third prison – the earlier two being the Tower of London and the Fleet – should be built in 1188 on “land next to Newgate where Newgate Street joined Old Bailey.”10 (Jowett, 14)

New Gate from 1690 London Map (originally taken
                from 1685 map by Wenceslaus Hollar)Layout of London in 1300 by William R Shepherd
Left: Image from 1690 map of London depicting the New Gate. (Source: Wikipedia)     Right: London circa 1300 by William R Shepherd (1923). (Source: Wikipedia)

Major and minor improvements were made at various times between 1236 and 1666 when the Great Fire swept through London.
Over 13,000 houses, eighty-seven parish churches, St. Paul’s Cathedral and most of the civic buildings were destroyed as it raged from London Bridge to Smithfield in the north and Fetter Lane in the west. . . . Newgate gaol on the north-western edge of the fire was severely damaged and about eighty percent was unusable. (Jowett, 50)
Map of London 1666
Map of London in 1666. Pink denotes area of city destroyed by the fire. (Source: Wikipedia)

The rebuilding of Newgate Gaol took seven years. Other changes would be made in subsequent centuries, but did little to improve conditions until reforms were instituted in the nineteenth century. Until then it remained much as Defoe, Moll Flanders, pirates, and many others found in until the last inmates were removed to other prisoners in 1902 and Newgate was demolished in 1904.11

During your stay, you were expected to pay your own way. It mattered little whether you were a homeless peddler or a high-ranking lord. Your only chance of keeping distance between yourself and the common riffraff depended on the weight of your purse. For a fifteenth-century gentleman or freeman, the cost for bed and board was three shillings per week. A yeoman paid two shillings. To warrant a higher fee, the Keeper shackled each new inmate with heavy irons. Pirates, like other violent felons, were often deemed too dangerous to ever have their irons removed.

The common greeting upon first entering your assigned ward were the words “pay or strip.” There was no way of not paying this fee, even if it meant you had to sit in darkness, sleep on a bare floor, go hungry, and forfeit your clothes.

Those with money, or access to it, could avail themselves of a range of perks: “the freedom to walk around . . . a private cell with a cleaning woman and a visiting prostitute, even alcohol.” (Lincoln, 27) Getting out of gaol also required payment, even if the jury deemed the man or woman not guilty of the charges. The kindness of those outside the prison walls might allow those without funds to have some food, but whatever was served had to be eaten raw if one couldn’t afford to pay for its cooking.

The rich could afford to live on the Masters side, located on the upper floors of the prison. The poor lived in squalor and misery on the Common side, where the lower floors were damp and closer to the foul air. Debtors made up the majority of prisoners, and while the two types of inmates were theoretically supposed to be kept apart, this wasn’t always the case.

The City of London oversaw Newgate, which was privately run and operated as other gaols did with a Keeper and his helpers. He hired paid turnkeys and appointed four prisoners to help with the daily running of Newgate. The Common side consisted of wards run by cellarmen or cellarwomen, each elected by the prisoners. They collected the garnishes and fees, as well as overseeing the wards. Most items – such as candles, food, charcoal, spirits, clean straw, beer, and blankets – cost money. Since the water was unhealthy to drink, the taproom might charge two pence for a drink of ale, although the keeper had only paid three pounds twelve pence for a gallon.

William KiddA scurvy knave, such as a pirate like William Kidd or one whom the authorities feared might escape, spent his time in the holes (dungeon) where the space was minimal and the dark cells never dried.

One man who could afford to inhabit the Master’s side, but chose not to, was William Penn, whose Pennsylvania colony would encourage illicit trade with smugglers and pirates much to his chagrin. He spent six months in Newgate in 1671. A fellow Quaker provided this description:

When we came to Newgate we found that side of the prison very full with Friends . . . . We had the liberty of the hall, which is on the story over the gate, and which in the daytime is common to all prisoners on that side, felons as well as others. But in the night we all lodged in one room, which was large and round having in the middle of it a great pillar of oaken timber which bore the chapel which is over it. To this pillar we fastened our hammocks at one end, and at the opposite end, quite round the room, in three storeys, one over the other; so that they who lay in the upper and middle row of hammocks were obliged to go to bed first, because they were to climb up to the higher by getting into the lower ones. And under the lower range of hammocks, by the wall sides were laid beds upon the floor, in which the sick and weak prisoners lay. There were many sick and some very weak, and though we were not long there, one of our fellow prisoners died. (Babington, 61)

The poorest inmates were placed in the Lower Ward, which wasn’t much different than a dark dungeon. John Hall was hanged as a footpad and pickpocket in 1707. His memoirs provided this description:
In the Lower Ward, the tight, slovenly dogs lie upon ragged blankets, amidst unutterable filth. Trampling on the floor, the lice crawling under their feet make such a noise as walking on shells which are strewn over garden walks. (Babington, 75)
Bathrooms were open tubs within the wards and the disgusting smell became a major problem, especially in warmer weather. These open facilities also bred disease, and deaths multiplied significantly during the summer. Pirates were equally susceptible and records prove that some suffered wretched deaths.

In the eighteenth century, it became fashionable for people to visit Newgate as one would a museum. These sightseers forked over a hefty amount of coins to do so and, in spite of these fees, their lines circled the block. Anyone who wished to witness one of the execution sermons or visit a condemned person in his/her cell, was also charged for this privilege.

Also at this time some rooms acquired specific names. The Bilbows was where punishments were inflicted. Jack Ketch’s Kitchen was the room where corpses were prepared prior to going on display. The dungeon became the Strong Room and, at times, also housed dead bodies. The worst common ward, where debtors lived, was called Tangier and was considered “the nastiest place in the gaol.” (Jowett,61)

Rioting was a common occurrence, and these could be quite violent at times. To amuse themselves, the prisoners played a variety of games, such as cards, billiards, fives, skittles, dice, and football. Some sold their bodies to others. Some dealt in stolen goods. Others tormented the citizenry who passed by outside the prison walls. Another form of entertainment, similar to those pirates often staged, were mock trials.

King Henry VIII was the first to concern himself with ministering to the inmates. In 1546 he appointed Christ Church Greyfriars to this task on a part-time basis. This clergyman was called an Ordinary and he preached in Newgate’s chapel and ministered to the condemned. The position ceased to be part-time in 1620 and in 1698 Paul Lorrain assumed the role of Ordinary. In addition to his regular duties, he preached execution sermons to pirates and others, accompanied them to their executions, and published accounts of the pirates’ final days just as his counterpart, the Reverend Cotton Mather, did in Boston, Massachusetts.

Although there were exceptions, Newgate hosted pirates pending their trials and punishments. The length of time they were there depended on when the court sessions occurred. These happened five times a year in 1435. During the 1700s, court convened eight times a year. Initially, the cases were heard within the gaol, but the magistrates disliked sitting in the stinky, filthy, and disease-ridden building. The sessions moved to the Old Bailey in 1353. Before then, a prisoner paid four pence to be taken to the courtroom. Afterward, the price doubled unless you were accused of a felony. Then the cost for your delivery was two shillings.

Engraving from Alexander Hogg's Malefactor
                Register, 1780 of pressingAs a defendant you had to enter a plea of guilty or not guilty at your arraignment. If you did not, the court attempted to change your mind through peine forte et dure (pain that is strong and hard). The reason for not pleading was to keep from forfeiting all property and wealth to the Crown. If you refused to profess guilt or innocence, you were forced to strip, tied to the floor in spread-eagle fashion, and weight was laid on you. Additional iron or stone was added on a daily basis until you rethought your refusal to plead. Your only sustenance was three slices of bread and three sips of water, but these were provided on alternate days. If you never submitted, you eventually succumbed to the lack of nourishment and the crushing weight, but succeeded in your goal. Your silence insured that your relatives retained whatever you owned. If you gave in and entered a plea, the judge could also decide that instead of standing trial, you should just die where you were.12
When John Gow, alias John Smith, was captured, he was sent to the Marshalsea, but was later transferred to Newgate to stand trial for piracy.
[He] refused to plead, for which the Court ordered that his Thumbs should be ty’d together with Whipcord, which was done several Times, by the Executioner and another Officer, they drawing the Cord till it broke; but he still continuing in an obstinate Refusal, the Court pronounced that Sentence which the Law appoints in such Cases, that he should be press’d to Death. The Gaoler was ordered to carry him back to Newgate, and to see the Sentence executed next Morning. . .

But when Gow understood the Nature of the Press, and the Manner how the Pain was inflicted, his Resolution failed him, and he sent to pray the Court that he might be re-admitted to the Bar, which the Court granted; he was thereupon arraigned a-new . . . to all [indictments] he pleaded Not Guilty.13 (Defoe, General, 368-369)
The 1726 edition of Captain Johnson’s A General History of the Pyrates included this description of peine forte et dure:
The Prisoner is laid in a low dark room in the Press Yard at Newgate, all naked but his Privy Parts, his Back upon the bare Ground, his Arms and Legs stretch’d with Cords, and fasten’d to the several Quarters of the Room. This done, he has a great weight of Iron and Stone laid upon him. His diet, till he dies, is only three Morsels of Barley Bread without Drink the next Day; and if he lives longer, he has nothing daily, but as much foul Water as he can drink three several Times, and that without any Bread, till he expires. (Defoe, General, 681-682)

Part IV: Newgate Gaol
It was possible for even felons to escape from gaol or prison, even if they were incarcerated in Newgate. One of the most memorable escapees was a thief named Jack Sheppard who bolted more than once in 1724.
[D]uring an interview with two female friends in the lodge at Newgate, [he] broke a spike off the hatch, and, by the assistance of the two women, being slim and flexible, was pulled through the opening, and so escaped.
Frontispiece from A
                Narrative of All the Robberies, Escapes, Etc. of Jack
                Sheppard (John Applebee, 1724) (source: Wikipedia)Once he was caught, they handcuffed him, restricted his movements “with heavy irons (such as are still fastened above the side doors of the prison), and chained him to a stout staple in the floor of a strong room called ‘The Castle.’” (Old) One day, when most keepers were over at the Old Bailey, he “loosened his chain from a the floor-staple” with a small nail he’d found and
then slipped his small thievish hands through his handcuffs, and tied up his fetters as high as he could with his garters. With a piece of his broken chain he worked out of a chimney a transverse iron bar that stopped his upward progress . . . Once on the airy roof, Jack, quick at breaking out of prisons, now tried his hand at breaking in, to force a way to the chapel, Jack broke into the Red Room, over the Castle, having found a large nail, with which he could work wonders. The Red Room door had not been unbolted for seven long years. Jack forced off the lock in seven short minutes, and got into a passage leading to the chapel. To force a strong bolt here, he broke a hole through the wall, and, with an iron spike from the chapel door, opened a way between the chapel and the lower leads. Three more doors flew open before him; over a wall, and he was on the upper leads. At this crisis, requiring a blanket, to tear up and make a rope for his descent, he had the courage to go back for it, all the way to his cell, and then, making a tough rope, he fastened it with the chapel spike, and let himself down on the leads of a turner, who lived adjoining the prison. Slipping in at a garret window, he stole softly down-stairs, and let himself out (a woman who heard his irons clink thought it was the cat). (Old)
The next day he borrowed a smithy’s tools to remove his shackles. He later stole several items from a pawnbroker’s shop. A drinking binge followed, which resulted in his capture after which he was not permitted to escape again.

Most pirates who were condemned to die had little opportunity to escape death. Once the clock struck midnight on the day of execution, anyone about to be executed had to listen to the tolling of a handheld “execution bell” that was rung three times outside the condemned’s cell. With the knells, the bellman intoned:

                          Execution Bell
All you that in the condemned hold do lie

Prepare you, for tomorrow you will die.
Watch all, and pray, the hour is drawing near
That you before the Almighty must appear
Examine well yourselves, in time repent,
That you may not to eternal flames be sent;
And when St Sepulchre’s bell tomorrow tolls,
The Lord have mercy on your souls! (Jowett, 48)
Newgate's Execution Bell (photgraph taken by Lonpic Man; source: Wikipedia)

Taking one’s last breath, however, did not waive the release fee. The body remained within Newgate’s walls, rotting away in the interim, until someone paid the Keeper.

Those prisoners condemned to hang and whose bodies were to be placed on display as a warning to others ended up in a special room in Newgate, which came to be called Jack Ketch’s Kitchen after one of the gaol’s more notorious executioners. Here the heads of traitors and rebels were coated in pitch and tar before being staked on pikes around London, such as on London Bridge. Pirates, however, had their entire corpses preserved, banded in iron, and placed on display where ships passed until little remained of their bones. Thomas Ellwood, a Quaker, found himself imprisoned in this room in 1662. His cellmates were the bodies of three men that had been there for three days.
I saw the heads when they were brought up to be boiled. The hangman fetched them in a dirty dusty-basket out of some by-place; and, setting them down among the felons, he and they made sport with them. [He] took them by the hair, boxed them on the ears and cheeks. Which done, the hangman put them into his kettle, and parboiled them with bay-salt and cumin seed; that to keep from putrefaction, and this to keep off the fowls from seizing on them. (Jowett, 53-4)
One well-known pirate to grace the walls of Newgate was Captain William Kidd, who was imprisoned here from April 1700 to May 1701. (The usual stay for a pirate lasted no more than sixty days.) Prior to his arrival the Lords of the Admiralty warned the Keeper “not to permit any person whatever to converse with [Kidd] during his imprisonment.” (Zacks, 320)

The night the captain came to Newgate the gaol was a forbidding, five-story structure looming in the darkness. Above the enormous entry door – made of thick wood, studs, and iron straps – hung an enormous pair of irons. The smell was as vile as the hold of a slave ship. Once inside, Kidd entered the Hold – a room without light that was more akin to a shelf without any bedding – via a hatch in the floor. The slop bucket was already full because two other condemned men were there, but they were transferred to other quarters because of the Admiralty’s isolation order. When food arrived, it was thrown down to him. Underneath the floor of the Hold was an open sewer. An imprisoned Jacobite said:
By the help of a candle, which you must pay through the nose for before it will be handed to you over the hatch, your eyes will lead you to boarded places, like those raised in barracks, whereupon you may repose yourself if your nose will suffer you to rest from the stench that diffuses its noisome particles of bad air in every corner. (Babington, 72)
The floor held hooks and iron staples with chains that allowed prisoners who caused trouble to be brought “to submission.” (Babington, 72)

The normal price for leaving the Hold was 2 shillings 6 pence. At the time of Kidd’s stay, a quart of rum or brandy cost 4 pence. Wine required 24 pence. But he was permitted few privileges. Once he finally left the Hold, he resided in a cell on the Master’s side where he could be kept isolated from other prisoners. On a visit in May 1700, the Keeper found Kidd with “a great pain in his Head, and shakeing in his Lymbs, and further sayd that he was in great want of his Cloathes.” (Zacks, 327) The Admiralty, who wanted him to remain alive until after he was tried, amended their restrictions. He was now permitted new clothing and bedding. He received care from a doctor and visits from his uncle (Mr. Blackborne, fishmonger) and Mrs. Hawkins (Sarah Kidd’s relative and William’s former landlady), but they could only see Kidd if the Keeper was present. As soon as Kidd’s health improved these privileges were stopped. The Admiralty Board again altered the rules for his incarceration in July. They gave him a weekly allowance of 20 shillings; permitted his friend Matthew Hawkins to visit; and allowed him to occasionally attend services in the chapel. The latter two required supervision. In late December, he was granted the privilege of walking around the yard as exercise, but always under guard and never talking to anyone.

Kidd finally had his day in court, where he was convicted on charges of piracy, robbery, and murder. He was condemned to die, but maintained he was “the innocentest Person of them all” until the end. (Zacks, 379) Like Gow, the rope broke and Kidd was hanged again. His corpse was also displayed “as a greater Terrour to all Persons from Committing ye like Crimes . . . .” (Botting, 127)

To be continued . .

1. “Jail” first appeared in written English around 1300, during the Middle English period. It came from the Old French “jaiole,” which meant “a jail, prison, or a birdcage,” but was originally derived from the Latin term for “cage.” Scribes in England often used a variant spelling, “gaole” – the word used by French Normans and pronounced like “gale.” Over time the hard “g” softened. Today, Americans favor the spelling of “jail,” while the British prefer “gaol”; both words are pronounced the same.

Early in the twelfth century English documents contained the word “prison.” It came from “prisun,” another Old French word meaning captivity. Its Latin roots lay in an informal noun associated with forcibly taking someone or something.

2. Imprisoning people who owed money often created a paradox. In order to pay off a debt, debtors needed a job to make money to pay creditors. Locking them away prevented them from achieving this and actually increased their debt, since the Keepers of prisons also expected payment during the debtors’ incarceration. Abolishing debtors’ prisons didn’t begin until the nineteenth century.

3. In Britain and her colonies, convicted pirates usually danced a hempen jig and once the tightened noose strangled your last breath, the tide washed over your body three times before your remains were buried. The bodies of the most notorious pirates, especially captains, were tarred, gibbeted, and put on display as a warning to others. Spain and its territories garroted convicted pirates.

4. Marshalsea comes from the Anglo-Norman word “mareschalcie,” which had a variety of spellings. The knight marshal oversaw the court where justice was meted out to the king’s domestic staff.

5. Daniel Defoe, once an inmate of Newgate and considered by some to be the author of A General History of Pyrates, believed London had more places of incarceration in the 1720s than anywhere else in Europe: 22 “public gaols,” 5 “Night Prisons, called Round Houses,” and 119 “Spunging Houses” (for debtors). (White, “Pain,” 73) There was also an assortment of private establishments, where prospective prisoners (those pending release on bail or placement in a real prison), and houses for arrested political prisoners or conscientious objectors) Sailors under arrest were imprisoned in the homes of Admiralty Officers.

6. Historical documentation does mention an earlier prison, but provides negligible information about it.

7. This device worked in the same manner as the pirates’ “rosary of pain.” This was a “length of knotted cord wrapped around a victim’s head at the forehead and temples, tightened either by pulling the ends in opposite directions or more often by inserting a long, thin, hard object (e.g., a rigid stick . . .) into the space between the rope and the head and twisting it, thus causing intense pain and possibly forcing the victim’s eyeballs out of his skull.” (Choundas, 347-348) This act of torture was called “woodling.”

8. This is the only detail, as regards James Couzins, included in the summary of the trials. For whatever reason, he either kept his own counsel or was unable to testify.

9. Fifty-two of the French pirates were found guilty. Twenty-four were hanged at three locations around London at the same moment in time.

10. When Henry Morgan and Sir Thomas Modyford, the former governor of Jamaica who had issued many letters of marque to privateers, were arrested for “many depredations and hostilities against the subjects of His Majesty’s good brother, the Catholic King” (Charles II of Spain), each was transported to London. (Marley, 1:246) Morgan’s sickness kept him from being imprisoned in the Tower of London on his arrival in August 1672, but Modyford was placed there in 1671. The Tower was originally built in the eleventh century and, in addition to the cells, had an observatory, a zoo, and a mint. Modyford wasn’t incarcerated in a dungeon, since the Tower had none. Prisoners occupied whatever room was convenient, but it was up to them to see to their creature comforts. It’s possible the Tower was the first building in London to serve as a prison. One of the earliest escapes from it occurred in the eleventh century. Modyford stayed imprisoned in “easy confinement” for several years before his release. (Marley, 1:247) He never stood trial for the charges, and returned to Jamaica as Chief Justice in 1675. He died four years later.

11. The last execution at Newgate took place in May 1902. The door for debtors is now on display in the Museum of London.


12. Pressing remained in effect until 1772, although the application of peine forte et dure hadn’t occurred since 1741.

13. According to The Complete Newgate Calendar (volume III), Gow and seven of his crew were executed at Execution Dock, Wapping in 1725.
 A remarkable circumstance happened to Gow at the place of execution. His friends, anxious to put him out of his pain, pulled his legs so forcibly that that rope broke and he dropped down; on which he was again taken up to the gibbet, and when he was dead was hanged in chains on the banks of the Thames. (John, 67)

For additional information, I recommend the following resources:
Adams, Robyn. “‘The Service I am Here for’: William Herle in the Marshalsea Prison, 1571,” The Huntington Library Quarterly 72:2 (2009), 217-238.
Appleby, John C. Women and English Piracy 1540-1720: Partners and Victims of Crime. Boydell, 2013.

Babington, Anthony. The English Bastille: A History of Newgate Gaol and Prison Conditions in Britain 1188-1902. St. Martin’s, 1971.
Beal, Clifford. Quelch’s Gold: Piracy, Greed, and Betrayal in Colonial New England. Praeger, 2007.
Boston Looks Seaward: The Story of the Port 1630-1940 compiled by Workers of the Writers’ Program of the Work Projects Administration in the State of Massachusetts. Bruce Humphries, 1941.
Botting, Douglas. The Pirates. Time-Life Books, 1978.
Brebner, Nicole. “Dungeons and Dragons,” History Magazine (August/September 2001), 34-35.
Brooks, Baylus C. Quest for Blackbeard: The True Story of Edward Thache and His World. Lulu, 2016.
Bullock, H. Public Gaol Historical Report, Block 27 Building 2. Colonial Williamsburg Foundation Library, 1994.
Burgess, Douglas R., Jr. The Politics of Piracy: Crime and Civil Disobedience in Colonial America. ForeEdge, 2014.
Burl, Aubrey. Black Barty: The Real Pirate of the Caribbean. Sutton, 2006.

Cabell, Craig, Graham A. Thomas, and Allan Richards. Captain Kidd: The Hunt for the Truth. Pen & Sword, 2010.
Carlin, Martha. Medieval Southwark. The Hambledon Press, 1996.
Chambers, Anne. Granuaile: Ireland’s Pirate Queen c. 1530-1603. Wolfhound, 2003.
Choundas, George. The Pirate Primer: Mastering the Language of Swashbucklers and Rogues. Writer’s Digest, 2007.
Collins, Christopher H. “Gaol and Ship Fevers,” Perspectives in Public Health 129:4 (July 2009), 163-164.
Cook, Judith. Pirate Queen: The Life of Grace O’Malley 1530-1603. Tuckwell, 2004.
Cordingly, David. Under the Black Flag: The Romance and the Reality of Life Among the Pirates. Random House, 1995.
Cox, James A. “Bilboes, Brands, and Branks,” Colonial Williamsburg Journal (Spring 2003).

Defoe, Daniel. A General History of the Pyrates edited by Manuel Schonhorn. Dover, 1999.
Defoe, Daniel. The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders.
“A Discourse of the Laws Relating to Pirates and Piracies,” British Piracy in the Golden Age: History and Interpretation, 1660-1730 edited by Joel H. Baer. Pickering & Chato, 2007, 3:261-342.

Eastman, Tamara J., and Constance Bond. The Pirate Trial of Anne Bonny and Mary Read. Fern Canyon, 2000.
Emsley, Clive, Tim Hitchcock, and Robert Shoemaker, “Crime and Justice – Punishments at the Old Bailey,” Old Bailey Proceedings Online.
Erickson, Carolly. Royal Panoply: Brief Lives of the English Monarchs. History Book Club, 2003.
The Execution Bell at St. Sepulchre-Without-Newgate,” Two Nerdy History Girls 7 August 2017.
First Williamsburg Gaol Inmates,” Southeastern Virginia Historical Markers.

Gibbs, Joseph. Dead Men Tell No Tales. University of South Carolina Press, 2007.
Gill, Michael Patrick. William Herle and the English Secret Service [thesis]. Victoria University of Wellington, 2010.
Gosse, Philip. The Pirates’ Who’s Who: Giving Particulars of the Lives & Deaths of the Pirates & Buccaneers. The Rio Grande, 1924.
Griffiths, Arthur. The Chronicles of Newgate. Dorset, 1987.
Grose, Francis. 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue: A Dictionary of Buckish Slang, University Wit, and Pickpocket Eloquence. Project Gutenberg, 2004.

Hahn, Steven C. “The Atlantic Odyssey of Richard Tookerman: Gentleman of South Carolina, Pirate of Jamaica, and Litigant before the King’s Bench,” Early American Studies 15:3 (Summer 2017), 539-590.
Harper, Douglas. Online Etymology Dictionary.
Hollick, Helen. Pirates: Truth and Tales. Amberley, 2017.

John Gow,” The Complete Newgate Calendar volume III.
Johnson, Ben. “Newgate Prison Wall,” History Magazine.
Johnson, Charles. A General History of the Pyrates 2nd edition. T. Warner, 1724.
Jowett, Caroline. The History of Newgate Prison. Pen & Sword, 2017.

Life Inside Newgate Prison, London, UK,” h2g2 (The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition). 28 December 2010.
Lincoln, Margarette Lincoln. British Pirates and Society, 1680-1730. Royal Museums Greenwich and Ashgate, 2014.
Lynch, Jack. “Cruel and Unusual: Prisons and Prison Reform,” Colonial Williamsburg Journal (Summer 2011)

Marley, David F. Pirates of the Americas volume 1. ABC-CLIO, 2010.
Mofford, Juliet Haines. “The DEVIL Made Me Do It!”: Crime and Punishment in Early New England. GlobePequot, 2012.
Morlaine, Maime. “The Lantern Tower in La Rochelle,” Crimino Corpus 23 February 2012. (English translation)

Newbold, Greg. “A Chronology of Correctional History,” Journal of Criminal Justice Education 10:1 (Spring 1999), 87-100.

Old and New London volume 2. Cassell, Peter & Galpin, 1878, 441-461.
The Oxford Dictionary of Word Histories: The Life Stories of over 12,000 Words edited by Glynnis Chantrell. Oxford, 2002.

Partridge, Eric. The Penguin Dictionary of Historical Slang. Penguin, 1986.
“The Penitentiary Administration in England,” Journal of the American Institute of Criminal Law and Criminology 5:1 (May 1914), 115-117.
Pirates in Their Own Words: Eye-witness Accounts of the ‘Golden Age’ of Piracy, 1690-1728 edited by E. T. Fox. Fox Historical, 2014.
Public Gaol,” Colonial Williamsburg.

Rediker, Marcus. Villains of All Nations: Atlantic Pirates in the Golden Age. Beacon, 2004.
Ritchie, Robert C. Captain Kidd and the War against the Pirates. Harvard, 1986.
Robertson, James. “Late Seventeenth-Century Spanish Town, Jamaica: Building an English City on Spanish Foundations,” Early American Studies (Fall 2008), 346-390.
Rowland, David. “Marshalsea Prison, London,” Old Police Cells Museum, 2014.

Sanders, Richard. If a Pirate I Must Be . . . : The True Story of “Black Bart,” King of the Caribbean Pirates. Skyhorse, 2007.
Shomette, Donald G. Shiprecks, Sea Raiders, and Maritime Disasters along the Delmarva Coast 1632-2004. Johns Hopkins, 2007.
Southwark Prisons in Survey of London volume 25 edited by Ida Darlington. London County Council, 1955, 9-21. (alternate copy)
St John Parker, Michael. Britain’s Kings & Queens. Pitkin Pictorials, 1994.
Stone, Peter. The History of the Port of London: A Vast Emporium of All Nations. Pen & Sword, 2017.
Swain, John. The Pleasures of the Torture Chamber. Dorset, 1995.
Swinden, Cara. “Crime and the Common Law in England, 1580-1640” (1992). Honors Theses. Paper 769, University of Richmond Scholarship Repository.

Talty, Stephan. Empire of Blue Water: Captain Morgan’s Great Pirate Army, the Epic Battle for the Americas, and the Catastrophe that Ended the Outlaws’ Bloody Reign. Crown, 2007.
“The Trials of Eight Persons Indited for Piracy,” British Piracy in the Golden Age: History and Interpretation, 1660-1730 edited by Joel H. Baer. Pickering & Chato, 2007, 2:289-319.
“The Tryal of All the Pyrates, Lately Taken by Captain Ogle,” British Piracy in the Golden Age: History and Interpretation, 1660-1730 edited by Joel H. Baer. Pickering & Chato, 2007, 3:67-166.
The Tryals of Major Stede Bonnet, and Other Pyrates. Rose and Crown, 1719.

White, Jerry. Mansions of Misery: A Biography of the Marshalsea Debtors’ Prison. The Bodley Head, 2016.
White, Jerry. “Pain and Degradation in Georgian London: Life in the Marshalsea Prison,” History Workshop Journal Issue 68 (Autumn 2009), 69-98.
Woodard, Colin. The Republic of Pirates: Being the True and Surprising Story of the Caribbean Pirates and the Man Who Brought Them Down. Harcourt, 2007.

Zacks, Richard. The Pirate Hunter: The True Story of Captain Kidd. Hyperion, 2002

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