Perhaps the best contemporary account of Newgate is in a pamphlet, published in 1708, called 'Memoirs of the Right Villanous John Hall,' etc.; and this is the scene attending the initiation of a prisoner into the Common Side:—
'Those Scholars that come here have nothing to depend on but the Charity of the Foundation, in which Side very exact Rules are observ'd; for as soon as a Prisoner comes into the Turn Key's Hands Three Knocks are given at the Stair Foot, as a Signal a Collegian is coming up; which Harmony makes those Convicts that stand for the Garnish as joyful as One Knock, the Signal of the Baker's coming every Morning, does those poor Prisoners, who, for want of Friends, have nothing else to Subsist on but Bread and Water: And no sooner are the Three Strokes given, but out jumps Four Trunchion Officers from their Hovel, and with a sort of ill mannerly Reverence receive him at the Grate; then taking him into their Apartment, a couple of the good natured Sparks hold him whilst the other Two pick his Pockets, claiming Six Pence apiece, as a Priviledge, belonging to their Office; then they turn him out to the Convicts, who hover about him for Garnish, which is Six Shillings and Eight pence, which they, from an old Custom, claim by Prescription Time out of Mind for entring in the Society, otherwise they strip the poor Wretch, if he has not wherewithal to pay it.
'Then Cook Ruffian comes to him for Three pence for dressing the Charity Meat, which charitable disposed Persons send in every Thursday, whereon Earthen Dishes, Porringers, Pans, Wooden Spoons, and Cabbage Nets, are Stirring about against Dinner Time, whilst the Cook sweats in Porriging the Prisoners, who stand round him like so many poor Scholars begging at the Kitchin Door for College Broth.
'But yet the caged Person is not clear of his Dues, for next, Two other Officers, who have a Patent for being Swabbers, demand Three Half pence apiece more for clearing the Gaol of its Filth, which requires the Labour of Sisiphus, and is never to be ended. Then at the signal of the Grey Pease Woman, which is between Seven and Eight, he is conducted down Stairs, with an Illumination of Links, to his Lodging, and, provided he has a Shilling for Money, may lye in the Middle Ward, which (to give the Devils their due) is kept very neat and clean, where he pays One Shilling and Four Pence more to his Comrades, and then he is Free of the College and Matriculated.'
The Lower Ward was a shocking place, as was also a 'large Room call'd Tangier, which next to the Lower Ward, is the nastiest place in the Gaol. The Miserable Inhabitants hereof are Debtors.' There was a large room called High Hall, for recreation, and a cellar where liquors were sold, in unlimited quantities, to moneyed prisoners. We can imagine the effects of drink among this depraved lot, and the fearful brawls and fights that took place; but, were the riot very serious, then two pulls of the big bell, which hung over the High Hall stairs, would bring the turnkeys, who stood no nonsense among that unruly crew, and the ringleaders were ironed and thrown into dark dungeons.
The press-room, where non-pleading criminals were pressed, and a room where the hangman seethed the quartered limbs of rebels and traitors in a mixture of pitch, tar, and oil, were among the apartments in Newgate. When the fettered prisoners were tried, if they did not give the gaolers half a crown to be put in the Bail Dock, they were put, men and women together, into the Hold, where a singular custom prevailed of a prisoner exacting a shilling apiece from the youngest for Hold Money; and were anyone lucky enough to be acquitted, he had to spend a Quit Shilling for their delight.
Of the Marshalsea Prison Hatton says: 'It is now the County Gaol for Felons, the Admiralty Gaol for Piracy and other Offences committed at Sea, and is the Gaol to the Marshals court for Debt and Damage. It was in Southwark; and another contemporary[660] says it 'is situated on such a Cursed Piece of Land, that the Son is asham'd to be his Father's Heir in't. It is an infected Pest house all the Year long; and Lord have Mercy upon us may well stand upon these Doors.'
The Gate House, Westminster, 'is the chief Prison for the City of Westminster Liberties, not only for Debt but Treason, Theft and other Criminal Matters; the Keeper has that place by Lease from the Dean and Chapter of Westminster.'
The Queen's Bench Prison had 'its Rules of a considerable Extent and Allowance, somewhat better than in the Common Gaols, for which reason many Debtors elsewhere confin'd, do by Habeas Corpus remove into this Prison, which is the proper place of Confinement in all Cases tryable in the Queen's Bench Court, whether for Debt, Dammage, Treason, Murther, &c.'
The Fleet and Ludgate were purely for debtors, in contradistinction to the others, which accommodated not only debtors but criminals. Imprisonment for debt has not very long been done away with—indeed, it now exists under the name of 'contempt of court'; and what renders it more illogical and oppressive, is that people can only be imprisoned for owing small sums, the debtors who operate on a larger scale having perfect immunity from restraint. However, in Anne's time large and small were taken indiscriminately; the smaller debtors, as being the weaker, naturally getting the worst of it; their chances of ever getting out being very remote. We have seen in Newgate that Tangier was the worst place but one in the gaol. 'The Miserable Inhabitants hereof are Debtors, who put what sorry Bedding they enjoy upon such an Ascent where Soldiers lye when on Guard at the Tilt Yard. But in this Apartment lye, besides real Debtors, such as are call'd your Thieving Debtors; who, having for Theft satisfy'd the Queen, by being Burnt in the Face, or Whipt, which is no Satisfaction to the wrong'd Subject, their Adversaries bring an Action of Trover against them, and keep them there till they make Restitution for Things stolen ... here is a lightsome Room call'd Debtor's Hall, so nam'd from such unfortunate Men lying there, where every Man shews like so many Wrecks upon the Sea; here the Ribs of £20, here the Ruins of a good Estate, Doublets without Buttons, and a Gown without Sleeves; and a pair of Stairs higher lye Women that are Fines and Debtors, thinking, like their suffering Companions below them, every Year Seven till they get abroad.'[661]