Gaol-Fever.
Besides these ordinary things favouring contagious epidemic fever both in town and country, there were two special sources of contagion, the gaols and the fleets and armies. I shall take first the state of the gaols, which has been already indicated in speaking of the window-tax. In the opinion of Lind, a great part of the fever, which was a constant trouble in ships of the navy, came direct from the gaols through the pressing of newly discharged convicts.
The state of the prisons in the first half of the 18th century was certainly not better than Howard found it to be a generation after; it was probably worse, for the administration of justice was more savage. About the beginning of the century, many petitions were made to Parliament by imprisoned debtors, complaining of their treatment, and a Bill was introduced in 1702. Sixty thousand were said to be in prison for debt[158]. On 25 February, 1729, the House of Commons appointed a committee “to inquire into the state of the gaols of this Kingdom”; but only two prisons were reported on, the Fleet and the Marshalsea, in London, the inquiries upon these being due to the energy of Oglethorpe, then at the beginning of his useful career. The committee found a disgraceful state of things:—wardens, tip-staffs and turnkeys making their offices so lucrative by extortion that the reversion of them was worth large sums, prisoners abused or neglected if they could not pay, some prisoners kept for years after their term was expired, the penniless crowded three in a bed, or forty in one small room, while some rooms stood empty to await the arrival of a prisoner with a well-filled purse. On the common side of the Fleet Prison, ninety-three prisoners were confined in three wards, having to find their own bedding, or pay a shilling a week, or else sleep on the floor. The “Lyons Den” and women’s ward, which contained about eighteen, were very noisome and in very ill repair. Those who were well had to lie on the floor beside the sick. A Portuguese debtor had been kept two months in a damp stinking dungeon over the common sewer and adjoining to the sink and dunghill; he was taken elsewhere on payment of five guineas. In the Marshalsea there were 330 prisoners on the common side, crowded in small rooms. George’s ward, sixteen feet by fourteen and about eight feet high, had never less than thirty-two in it “all last year,” and sometimes forty; there was no room for them all to lie down, about one-half of the number sleeping over the others in hammocks; they were locked in from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. in summer (longer hours in winter), and as they were forced to ease nature within the room, the stench was noisome beyond expression, and it seemed surprising that it had not caused a contagion; several in the heat of summer perished for want of air. Meanwhile the room above was let to a tailor to work in, and no one allowed to lie in it. Unless the prisoners were relieved by their friends, they perished by famine. There was an allowance of pease from a casual donor who concealed his name, and 30 lbs. of beef three times a week from another charitable source. The starving person falls into a kind of hectic, lingers for a month or two and then dies, the right of his corpse to a coroner’s inquest being often scandalously refused[159]. The prison scenes in Fielding’s Amelia are obviously faithful and correct.
Oglethorpe’s committee had done some good since they first met at the Marshalsea on 25th March, 1729, not above nine having died from that date to the 14th May; whereas before that a day seldom passed without a death, “and upon the advancing of the spring not less than eight or ten usually died every twenty-four hours.” Two of the chief personages concerned were found by a unanimous vote of the House of Commons to have committed high crimes and misdemeanours; but when they were tried before a jury on a charge of felony they were found not guilty.
About a year after these reports to the Commons there was a tragic occurrence among the Judges and the Bar of the Western Circuit during the Lent Assizes of 1730. The Bridewell at Taunton was filled for the occasion of the Assizes with drafts of prisoners from other gaols in Somerset, among whom several from Ilchester were said to have been more than ordinarily noisome. Over a hundred prisoners were tried, of whom eight were sentenced to death (six executed), and seventeen to transportation. As the Assize Court continued its circuit through Devon and Dorset several of its members sickened of the gaol fever and died: Piggot, the high-sheriff, on the 11th April, Sir James Sheppard, serjeant-at-law, on 13th April at Honiton, the crier of the court and two of the Judge’s servants at Exeter, the Judge himself, chief baron Pengelly, at Blandford, and serjeant-at-law Rous, on his return to London, whither he had posted from Exeter as soon as he felt ill[160]. It is said that the infection afterwards spread within the town of Taunton, where it arose, “and carried off some hundreds”; but the local histories make no mention of such an epidemic in 1730, and no authority is cited for it[161]. Something of the same kind is believed to have happened at a gaol delivery at Launceston in 1742, but the circumstances are vaguely related, and it does not appear that any prominent personage in the Assize Court died on the occasion[162].
The great instance of a Black Assize in the 18th century, comparable to those of Cambridge, Oxford and Exeter in the 16th[163], was that of the Old Bailey Sessions in London in April, 1750. It has been fully related by Sir Michael Foster, one of the justices of the King’s Bench, who had himself been on the bench at the January sessions preceding, and was the intimate friend of Sir Thomas Abney, the presiding judge who lost his life from the contagion of the April sessions[164].
“At the Old Bailey sessions in April, 1750, one Mr Clarke was brought to his trial; and it being a case of great expectation, the court and all the passages to it were extremely crowded; the weather too was hotter than is usual at that time of the year[165]. Many people who were in court at this time were sensibly affected with a very noisome smell; and it appeared soon afterwards, upon an enquiry ordered by the court of aldermen, that the whole prison of Newgate and all the passages leading thence into the court were in a very filthy condition, and had long been so. What made these circumstances to be at all attended to was, that within a week or ten days at most, after the session, many people who were present at Mr Clarke’s trial were seized with a fever of the malignant kind; and few who were seized recovered. The symptoms were much alike in all the patients, and in less than six weeks time the distemper entirely ceased. It was remarked by some, and I mention it because the same remark hath formerly been made on a like occasion [Oxford, 1577], that women were very little affected: I did not hear of more than one woman who took the fever in court, though doubtless many women were there.
“It ought to be remembered that at the time this disaster happened there was no sickness in the gaol more than is common in such places. This circumstance, which distinguisheth this from most of the cases of the like kind which we have heard of, suggesteth a very proper caution: not to presume too far upon the health of the gaol, barely because the gaol-fever is not among the prisoners. For without doubt, if the points of cleanliness and free air have been greatly neglected, the putrid effluvia which the prisoners bring with them in their clothes etc., especially where too many are brought into a crowded court together, may have fatal effects on people who are accustomed to breathe better air; though the poor wretches, who are in some measure habituated to the fumes of a prison, may not always be sensible of any great inconvenience from them.
“The persons of chief note who were in court at this time and died of the fever were Sir Samuel Pennant, lord mayor for that year, Sir Thomas Abney, one of the justices of the Common Pleas, Charles Clarke, esquire, one of the barons of the exchequer, and Sir Daniel Lambert, one of the aldermen of London. Of less note, a gentleman of the bar, two or three students, one of the under-sheriffs, an officer of Lord Chief Justice Lee, who attended his lordship in court at that time, several of the jury on the Middlesex side, and about forty other persons whom business or curiosity had brought thither.”
The same thing was remarked here as at Exeter in 1586 that those who sat on the side of the Court nearest to the dock were most attacked by the infection[166]. When the cases of fever began to occur, after the usual incubation of “a week or ten days,” there was much fear of the infection spreading, so that many families, it is said, retired into the country[167]. But Pringle wrote on 24 May, “However fatal it has been since the Sessions, it is highly probable that the calamity will be in a great measure confined to those who were present at the tryal[168];” and Justice Foster gives no hint of anyone having taken the fever who was not present in court.
The tragedy of gaol-fever at the Old Bailey in 1750 secured increased attention to the subject of scientific ventilation. The great bar to fresh air indoors throughout the 18th century was the window-tax. It bore particularly hard on prisoners, for the gaolers had to pay the window-tax out of their profits, and they naturally preferred to build up the windows. Scientific ventilation of gaols was something of a mockery in these circumstances; but it is the business of science to find out cunning contrivances, and ingenious ventilators were devised for Newgate, the leading spirit in this work being the Rev. Dr Hales, rector of a parish near London, and an amateur in physiology at the meetings of the Royal Society.
A ventilating apparatus had been erected at Newgate about a year before the fatal sessions of 1650, but it does not seem to have answered. It consisted of tubes from the various wards meeting in a great trunk which opened on the roof. A committee of the Court of Aldermen in October 1750 resolved, after consulting Pringle and Hales, to add a windmill on the leads over the vent, and that was done about two years after. Pringle, who inspected the ventilator on 11 July, 1752, says that a considerable stream of air of a most offensive smell issued from the vent; and it appeared that no fewer than seven of the eleven carpenters who were working at the alterations on the old ventilator caught gaol-fever (of the petechial kind), which spread among the families of some of them[169]. Pringle and Hales were of opinion that the wards furnished with tubes were less foul than the others; and they claimed, on the evidence of the man who took care of the apparatus, that only one person had died in the gaol in two months, whereas, before the windmill was used, there died six or seven in a week[170]. But Oglethorpe had claimed an improvement of the same kind at the Marshalsea in 1729 merely from having the prisoners saved from hunger; and Lind, who was a most matter-of-fact person, did not think that the ingenious contrivances for ventilation had answered their end[171].
Howard’s visitations of the prisons, which began in 1773 and were continued or repeated during several years following, brought to light many instances of epidemic sickness therein, which was nearly always of the nature of gaol-typhus. The following is a list compiled from his various reports, the two or three instances of smallpox infection being given elsewhere.
Wood Street Compter, London. About 100 in it, chiefly debtors. Eleven died in beginning of 1773; since then it has been visited by Dr Lettsom at the request of the aldermen.
Savoy, London. On 15 March, 1776, 119 prisoners. Many sick and dying. Between that date and next visit, 25 May, 1776, the gaol-fever has been caught by many.
Hertford. Inmates range from 20 to 30. In the interval of two visits, the gaol-fever prevailed and carried off seven or eight prisoners and two turnkeys. (The interval probably corresponded to the admission of an unusual number of debtors.)
Chelmsford. Number of inmates varies from 20 to 60, about one-half debtors. A close prison frequently infected with the gaol-distemper.
Dartford, County Bridewell. A small prison. About two years before visit of 1774 there was a bad fever, which affected the keeper and his family and every fresh prisoner. Two died of it.
Horsham, Bridewell. The keeper a widow: her husband dead of the gaol-fever.
Petworth, Bridewell. Allowance per diem a penny loaf (7½ oz.). Th. Draper and Wm. Godfrey committed 6 Jan., 1776: the former died on 11 Jan., the other on 16th. Wm. Cox, committed 13 Jan., died 23rd. “None of these had the gaol-fever. I do not affirm that these men were famished to death; it was extreme cold weather.” After this the allowance of bread was doubled, thanks to the Duke of Richmond.
Southwark, the new gaol. Holds up to 90 debtors and felons. “In so close a prison I did not wonder to see, in March, 1776, several felons sick on the floors.” No bedding, nor straw. The Act for preserving the health of prisoners is on a painted board.
Aylesbury. About 20 prisoners. First visit Nov., 1773, second Nov., 1774: in the interval six or seven died of the gaol-distemper.
Bedford. About twenty years ago the gaol-fever was in this prison; some died there, and many in the town, among whom was Mr Daniel, the surgeon who attended the prisoners. The new surgeon changed the medicines from sudorifics to bark and cordials; and a sail-ventilator being put up the gaol has been free from the fever almost ever since. (This was the gaol which is often said to have started Howard on his inquiries when he was High Sheriff.)
Warwick. Holds up to fifty-seven. The late gaoler died in 1772 of the gaol-distemper, and so did some of his prisoners. No water then; plenty now.
Southwell, Bridewell. A small prison. A few years ago seven died here of the gaol-fever within two years.
Worcester. Has a ventilator. Mr Hallward the surgeon caught the gaol-fever some years ago, and has ever since been fearful of going into the dungeon; when any felon is sick, he orders him to be brought out.
Shrewsbury. Gaol-fever has prevailed here more than once of late years.
Monmouth. At first visit in 1774, they had the gaol-fever, of which died the gaoler, several of his prisoners, and some of their friends.
Usk (Monmouth) Bridewell. The keeper’s wife said that many years ago the prison was crowded, and that herself, her father who was then keeper, and many others of the family had the gaol-fever, three of whom, and several of the prisoners, died of it.
Gloucester, the Castle. Many prisoners died here in 1773; and always except at Howard’s last visit, he saw some sick in this gaol. A large dunghill near the stone steps. The prisoners miserable objects: Mr Raikes and others took pity on them.
Winchester. The former destructive dungeon was down eleven steps, and darker than the present. Mr Lipscomb said that more than twenty prisoners had died in it of the gaol-fever in one year, and that the surgeon before him had died of it.
Liverpool. Holds about sixty, offensive, crowded. Howard in March, 1774, told the keeper his prisoners were in danger of the gaol-fever. Between that date and Nov., 1775, twenty-eight had been ill of it at one time.
Chester, the Castle. Dungeon used to imprison military deserters. Two of them brought by a sergeant and two men to Worcester, of which party three died a few days after they came to their quarters. (For fever in this prison in 1716 see the text, p. 60.)
Cowbridge. The keeper said, on 19 August, 1774, that many had died of the gaol-fever, among them a man and a woman a year before, at which time himself and daughter were ill of it.
Cambridge, the Town Bridewell. In the spring of 1779, seventeen women were confined in the daytime, and some of them at night, in the workroom, which has no fireplace or sewer. This made it extremely offensive, and occasioned a fever or sickness among them, which so alarmed the Vice-Chancellor that he ordered all of them to be discharged. Two or three of them died within a few days.
Exeter, the County Bridewell. Between first visit in 1775 and next on 5 Feb., 1779, the surgeon and two or three prisoners have died of the gaol-fever. In 1755 a prisoner discharged from the gaol went home to Axminster, and infected his family, of whom two died, and many others in that town afterwards.
Exeter, the High Gaol for felons. Mr Bull, the surgeon, stated that he was by contract excused from attending in the dungeons any prisoners that should have the gaol-fever.
Winchester, Bridewell. Close and small. Receives many prisoners from other gaols at Quarter Sessions. It has been fatal to vast numbers. The misery of the prisoners induced the Duke of Chandos to send them for some years 30 lbs. of beef and 2 gallon loaves a week.
Devizes, Bridewell. Two or three years ago the gaol-fever carried off many. An infirmary added since then.
Marlborough. The rooms offensive. Saw one dying on the floor of the gaol-fever. One had died just before, and another soon after his discharge.
Launceston. Small, with offensive dungeons. No windows, chimneys, or drains. No water. Damp earthen floor. Those who serve there often catch the gaol-fever. At first visit, found the keeper, his assistant and all the prisoners but one sick of it (on 19 Feb., 1774, eleven felons in it). Heard that, a few years before, many prisoners had died of it, and the keeper and his wife in one night. A woman confined three years by the Ecclesiastical Court had three children born in the gaol.
Bodmin, Bridewell. Much out of repair. The night rooms are two garrets with small close-glazed skylight 17 in. × 12 in. A few years ago the gaol-fever was very fatal, not only in the prison but also in the town.
Taunton, Bridewell. Six years ago, when there was no infirmary provided, the gaol-fever spread over the whole prison, so that eight died out of nineteen prisoners.
Shepton Mallet. Men’s night room close, with small window. So unhealthy some years ago that the keeper buried three or four in a week.
Thirsk. Prisoners had the gaol-fever not long ago.
Carlisle. During the gaol-fever which some years ago carried off many of the prisoners, Mr Farish, the chaplain, visited the sick every day.
I shall add some medical experiences of gaol-fever in London from the notes of Lettsom[172]:—
May, 1773. A person released from Newgate “in a malignant or jail-fever” was brought into a house in a court off Long Lane, Aldersgate Street; soon after which fourteen persons in the same confined court were attacked with a similar fever: one died before Lettsom was called in, one was sent to hospital, eleven attended by him all recovered, though with difficulty. Two deaths in Wood Street Compter: 1. Rowell, an industrious, sober workman, who had supported for many years a wife and three children; some of these having been lately sick, he fell behind with his rent, a little over three guineas; he offered all he had (more than enough) to the landlord, but the latter preferred to throw the man and his family into the Compter, where Rowell died of fever. 2. Russell, once a reputable tradesman on Ludgate Hill, fell into a debt of under three guineas, sent to the Compter with his wife and five children, took fever and died; attended in his sickness in a bare room by his eldest daughter, elegant and refined, aged seventeen; his son, aged fourteen, took the fever and recovered.
There was one Black Assize at this period, at Dublin in April 1776. A criminal, brought into the Court of Sessions without cleansing, infected the court and alarmed the whole city. Among others who died of the contagion were Fielding Ould, High Sheriff, the counsellors Derby, Palmer, Spring and Ridge, Mr Caldwell, Messrs Bolton and Eriven, and several attorneys and others whose business it was to attend the court[173].
There were two notorious outbreaks of malignant fever among foreign prisoners of war, one in 1761[174] and another in 1780[175], the first among French and Spaniards at Winchester and Portchester, the second among Spaniards at Winchester.
Howard found so little typhus in the gaols in his later visits that it seemed as if banished for good. But it was heard of frequently about 1780-85—at Maidstone, at Aylesbury, at Worcester, costing the lives of some of the visiting physicians.