The Public Gaol

       On the northern side of Nicholson Street stands the Public Gaol, referred to by a reliable eighteenth-century chronicler as a "strong sweet Prison." After 250 years it remains today grim evidence of crime and punishment in colonial America. Now restored, it is an Exhibition Building of Colonial Williamsburg. Both common criminals awaiting summary justice and debtors awaiting succor or mercy were confined here. The imprisonment of debtors, however, was practically eliminated after 1772 as the result of an act making creditors wholly responsible for the maintenance of debtors and trebling the fees for their board. The General Court, which met twice a year at the Capitol, tried criminals punishable by mutilation or death. Lesser criminals were forced to undergo the discomfort and public ridicule of the pillory or stocks, barbarous but effective instruments of justice which today's visitors may try out without the inconvenience of a padlock.

       Henry Cary, the master builder who supervised construction of both Capitol and Palace, was ordered by the Assembly to begin work in 1701 on a "Publick Gaol" (pronounced "jail" as today). By 1704, the Gaol was ready to receive its first guests. Debtors' cells were added in 1711. Keeper's quarters were built in 1722, the period to which the build- ing has been restored. The Gaol served colony and commonwealth until 1780, and thereafter a portion of the original building continued to be used as a prison until sometime after the Civil War. In 1933 it was deeded to Colonial Williamsburg by the city. Part of the brick-work of its massive walls is original and some of the early interior finish was found. In the course of excavations, shackles were unearthed, evidence of the bleak life of an unlucky few. 

       Though frequently tempered with mercy, the treatment and disposition of criminals in the Virginia Colony seems inhumane in the light of prison reforms of the past two centuries. Yet it should be recalled that colonial society included not only the usual lawless elements but newly arrived slaves, transported convicts, runaway indentured servants, pirates, and marauding Natives. It was a society not far removed from the frontier and one in which hot tempers, high spirits, and little education often produced crimes of the worst sort. Furthermore, it was costly to build and maintain prisons; it was customary to clear criminal cells of their inmates after each session of the General Court. Thus, with the exception of debtors, persons convicted by this Court were usually fined, lashed, branded, mutilated, or hanged. Debtors who could not gain relief through friends or family were forced to await the ultimate mercy of the Court. 

       Yet despite leg irons, handcuffs, and chains, despite bitter cold nights spent on floor matting of malodorous straw, and despite a diet of "salt beef damaged, and Indian meal," the life of the prisoners was not wholly without mitigation. During daylight hours they were often allowed to walk about and converse in the exercise yard. Sanitary arrangements, though crude, were advanced for that century. In cases of illness, "Physick" was provided, and more fortunate prisoners were permitted to return to their homes until recovery. Those with an adequate purse could buy meals or liquor from one of the taverns in the vicinity, and often shared these luxuries with others. A group of Indians, thrown into the unheated cells in the winter of 1704-5, was provided with greatcoats by the Assembly. One keeper, in advertising the detention of a runaway slave, urged his owner to "make as speedy application for him as possible that he may not suffer from the inclemency of the season." 

       A prisoner sentenced to death was allowed several weeks to make his peace with God, and during this period was brought each Sunday to Bruton Parish Church by the gaoler. The death penalty was inflicted for many offenses, including arson, piracy, horse stealing, forgery, and burglary. Cases were carefully weighed, however, and clemency sometimes offered first offenders or criminals with a particularly moving plea. In 1718 fifteen henchmen of the pirate Blackbeard were imprisoned in the Gaol, and thirteen of them subsequently hanged; yet in 1727, John Vidal, a convicted pirate who pitifully protested that he "never intended to go a pirating" and who "with a weeping heart" prayed for a longer time for repentance, was granted his Majesty's most gracious pardon. 

       The Gaol also served at times as a madhouse and military prison. The mentally ill were often confined here until the erection of Eastern State Hospital. During the turbulent early years of the Revolution, the Gaol was badly over-crowded with British redcoats, Tory sympathizers, traitors, deserters, and spies. Gaol fever broke out among them and many died, although the fever was controlled somewhat by cleaning the vaults and washing the floors with vinegar and sprinkling them with wild mint. The most famous prisoner during this period was General Henry Hamilton, the British Governor of the Northwest Territory, widely known as the "Hair Buyer" because he was believed to pay his Indian allies for American scalps. The keeper's quarters are furnished with simple, serviceable pieces. Gaol keepers were paid little, and had a rough and dangerous job. 

       The first keeper, John Redwood, received only thirty pounds annually. Each of his twelve colonial successors, despite increased pay, complained that his income was inadequate to the hazards of the office. One gaoler, "knock'd down" by a quart bottle in the hand of an escaping murderer, was discharged for his pains. The best-known keeper was the erudite Peter Pelham, who augmented his income by play- ing the organ at Bruton Parish Church, providing music for the second theatre, and teaching young ladies to master the harpsichord and spinnet. Pelham was musical director when The Beggar's Opera was first performed in Williams- burg. There were some who suggested that Pelham further in- creased his income by permitting convicted prisoners to escape, but he was cleared of all charges against him in an inquiry ordered by the Assembly.

• Danny got locked in the "stocks" and the history of pillory

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