Newgate gevangenis in London ..

Newgate was London se grootste gevangenis en het 40–50 gevangenes gehuisves. Dit dateer uit 1188 en is in 1777 gesloop en herontwerp en herbou. Die brutale, amper vensterlose voorkoms was ‘n opsetlike deel van straf en afskrikmiddel.

Die tronkdeur van 1780 is te sien in die Museum:

Newgate Prison door, circa 1780

Vir meer as 600 jaar was die tronk bekend vir sy haglike toestande. Daar is gesê dat die tronk so vuil en saai was dat die vloere geknars het terwyl jy loop as gevolg van al die luise en weeluise. Die vrouegebied was net so afgryslik, stampvol met halfnaakte vroue, soms dronk, of soms verward, in beenysters en dikwels met hul kinders op sleeptou.

Dit is onmoontlik om die verskrikking van enige persoon se gemoed te beskryf. Met die aankoms word daar rondgekyk na al die gruwels van daardie somber en dodelike plek. Geen plek van omdraai is moontlik nie. Dis ‘n plek wat saamgevoeg is om die plek ‘n embleem van die hel self te laat lyk, en ‘n soort ingang daartoe. Die paspoort na die hel.

Die kerk van St Sepulchre-sonder-Newgate het ook ‘n taamlik grusame rol gespeel in die teregstellings. Om middernag op die vooraand van ‘n teregstelling het ‘n klokman langs die tronktonnels geloop en ‘twaalf plegtige handdoeke met dubbele houe’ op sy handklok gefluit en gesing : “Al julle wat in die veroordeelde hou lê, berei julle voor, want môre sal julle sterf ; Waak alles en bid, die uur kom nader Dat jy voor die Almagtige moet verskyn; Ondersoek julleself goed, bekeer julle mettertyd, Dat julle nie na ewige vlamme gestuur mag word nie: En wanneer St. Die grafklok môre lui, die Here daarbo, wees julle siele genadig.” Alhoewel die Newgate-gevangenis lankal weg is, bestaan die Newgate-teregstellingsklok steeds en word dit in die Kerk van St Sepulchre gehuisves.

Na teregstelling, wat dikwels meer soos stadige verwurging was, het gevegte gereeld uitgebreek oor eienaarskap van die liggaam met familielede en vriende wat veg teen chirurge wat tien liggame per jaar vir disseksie belowe is.

Die kerk is oorspronklik vernoem na St. Edmund en is gebou op die terrein van die ou Saksiese kerk. Die naam is verander na St. Edmund en die Heilige Graf in die 12de eeu.

In 1780 is die Newgate-gevangenis herbou ná die vernietiging daarvan in die Gordon-onluste. Agter sy monumentale yster-ingangsdeure was daar donker en bedompige tronkselle wat deur gevangenes beset was wat verhoorafwagtend, teregstelling en vervoer gewag het. Teregstellings het gereeld voor die tronk plaasgevind, wat groot skares gelok het. Nadat hy een gesien het, het Charles Dickens geskryf dat hy gevoel het asof hy ‘in ‘n stad van duiwels woon’.

Karretjies wat die veroordeeldes vervoer op pad na Tyburn sou ‘n kort rukkie by die kerk stilstaan waar gevangenes ‘n neusgat sou kry. Hulle sou egter reeds die vorige aand ’n ontmoeting met iemand van die kerk gehad het. In 1605 het ‘n ryk handelaar genaamd Robert Dow ‘n erflating van £50 gemaak vir ‘n klokman van die kerk om om middernag buite die selle van die veroordeeldes te staan en die klok te lui.

Twaalf klokke van die klok om middernag was die ‘doodskoot’. Die idee was om die gevangenes te probeer help om tot bekering te kom voordat hulle nekke gerek word.

Die werklike klok wat in hierdie ‘seremonie’ gebruik is, is nie net liefdevol bewaar nie, maar word deurlopend vertoon in die kerk van St Sepulcher in Londen. Met die eerste oogopslag kan die ietwat lomp lyk klokkie verwar word met iets taamlik onskadelik: dit lyk net soos ‘n stowwerige ou klokkie binne ‘n selfs stowweiger ou kas. Maar by nadere ondersoek word ‘n aaklige nuuskierigheid en ‘n herinnering van ‘n veel minder verdraagsame ouderdom aan die lig gebring.

ie grootste deel van die kerk is post Fire of London (herbou 1670-71), maar daar is dele wat dateer uit ‘n herbou van die 15de eeu deur sir John Popham, voormalige kanselier van Normandië en tesourier van die King’s Household in die tyd van Henry VI . ‘n Borsbeeld in klip van Popham was bo die stoep, waarvan geen spoor oorbly nie, maar die stoep self oorleef. Die groot Suidwes-toring is ook uit die 15de eeu, maar baie gerestoureer. Die klein monument – ’n standbeeld van ‘n seuntjie – wat die einde van die Groot Brand aandui, is net op Giltspurstraat, maar St Sepulcher was intern afgesny, met net die toring, stoep en mure wat die Brand oorleef het en Christopher Wren se vinnige herbouing by die begin van die 1670’s, wat egter die groot afmetings van die 15de eeuse gebou behou het. Na ‘n tydperk van verval, is die hele gebou in 1790 in Portland Stone heropen, en ‘n Victoriaanse restourasie in 1878-9 deur W. P. Griffith en A. Billing het die byvoeging van die kenmerkende groot toppunte of hoektorings tot die toring en baie van die 1790 veranderinge omgekeer – veral die halfsirkelvormige vensters is vervang met behoorlike loodregte. Die gravure hieronder, uit die 1820’s, toon dat die toppunte reeds redelik groot was voor die Victoriaanse opknapping. Ons sien ook die pre-Victoriaanse ronde-kop vensters, – vars vervang in die Victoriaanse hermodellering boaan hierdie bladsy. Ten spyte van die volledige uitwendige versiering toe, die toppunte en die vensters wat 19de eeu is, kan die kerk nogal soortgelyk aan sy 15de eeuse voorkoms lyk. Maar nog ‘n punt oor die gravering hieronder (jy sal moet klik om te vergroot) – kan die lunette met ‘n klein klokkie op die stoep ‘n aanduiding wees van die borsbeeld van Popham?

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Newgate was London’s largest prison, housing 40–50 prisoners. Dating from 1188, it was demolished in 1777 and rebuilt to another design. The brutal, almost windowless appearance was an intentional part of punishment and deterrence. For centuries there was a close connection between the church and the notorious prison just across the road from it.

For over 600 years the prison was renowned for its appalling conditions. It was said that the prison was so dirty and squalid that the floors crunched as you walked due to all of the lice and bedbugs. The women’s area was equally as appalling, crowded with half naked women, drunk, sometimes deranged, in leg irons and often with their children in tow.

The church of St Sepulchre-without-Newgate also has a rather ghoulish part to play in the executions. At midnight on the eve of an execution, a bellman would walk along the prison tunnels ringing ‘twelve solemn towels with double strokes’ on his handbell whist chanting :

“All you that in the condemned hold do lie, Prepare you, for tomorrow you shall 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 above have mercy on your souls.” Although Newgate Prison has long gone, the Newgate Execution Bell still exists and is housed in the Church of St Sepulchre.

‘Tis impossible to describe the terror of my mind, when I was first brought in, and when I looked around upon all the horrors of that dismal place… : the hellish noise, the roaring, swearing, and clamour, the stench and nastiness… joined together to make the place seem an emblem of hell itself, and a kind of entrance to it.’

After execution, which was often more like slow strangulation, fights frequently broke out over ownership of the body with relatives and friends fighting surgeons who were promised ten bodies a year for dissection.

The church was originally named for St. Edmund and is built on the site of the old Saxon church. The name was changed to St. Edmund and the Holy Sepulchre in the 12th Century.

The Chruch today

“In 1780, Newgate prison was rebuilt after its destruction in the Gordon riots Behind its monumental iron entrance doors, there were dark and dank prison cells occupied by prisoners awaiting trial, execution and transportation. Executions took place regularly in front of the prison, attracting vast crowds. After witnessing one Charles Dickens wrote that he felt as if he was ‘living in a city of devils’

Carts carrying the condemned on their way to Tyburn would pause briefly at the church where prisoners would be presented with a nosegay. However, they would already have had an encounter with someone from the church the night before. In 1605, a wealthy merchant called Robert Dow made a bequest of £50 for a bellman from the church to stand outside the cells of the condemned at midnight, ring the bell.

And you can still see the bell today, displayed in a glass case in the church:

Twelve chimes from the handbell at the stroke of midnight was the ‘death knell.’ The idea was to try and help the prisoners repent before having their necks stretched.

The actual bell used in this ‘ceremony’ has not only been lovingly preserved but is on perpetual display in the church of St Sepulchre in London. At first glance, the somewhat ungainly looking bell could be mistaken for something rather innocuous: it just looks like a dusty old bell inside an even dustier old cabinet. However on closer examination, a ghastly curio and a reminder from a far less tolerant age is revealed.

The architecture.

The bulk of the church is post Fire of London (rebuilt 1670-71), but there are parts dating to a rebuild of the 15th Century by Sir John Popham, former Chancellor of Normandy and Treasurer of the King’s Household in the time of Henry VI. A bust in stone of Popham was above the porch, of which no trace remains, but the porch itself survives.

The large South West Tower is also from the 15th Century, but much restored. The little monument – a statue of a boy – marking the end of the Great Fire is just up Giltspur Street, yet St Sepulchre was internally gutted, with only the tower, porch and walls surviving the Fire and Christopher Wren’s rapid rebuild at the beginning of the 1670s, which, however kept the large dimensions of the 15th Century building. After some period of decay, the whole building was resurfaced in Portland Stone in 1790, and a Victorian restoration in 1878-9 by W. P. Griffith and A. Billing saw the addition of the distinctively large pinnacles or corner spires to the tower and much of the 1790 changes reversed – in particular, the semi-circular windows were replaced with proper Perpendicular ones. The engraving below, from the 1820s, shows that the pinnacles are already pretty large before the Victorian renovation. We also see the pre-Victorian round-headed windows, – freshly replaced in the Victorian remodelling at the top of this page. Despite the complete external refacing then, the pinnacles, and the windows being 19th Century, the church may well look rather similar to its 15th Century appearance. But one more point about the engraving below (you will need to click to enlarge) – could the lunette with little blob on the porch be indicative of the bust of Popham?

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