This next piece of writing is taken from 'Detour' an Italian-made film about the severe disturbances in Genoa, Italy, at the time of the 2001 G8 Summit. The text is a spoken voice track overlaid on the scenes of the attempted liberation of Marassi prison. This section of the film can be seen embedded on the righthand side of this page. The title of the piece refers to the attack by the black bloc on the gates and offices of the jail, as they attempted to burn it down. The summit was marked by extreme pre-planned police brutality, there was a large number of detainees who were systematically abused and beaten. Some prisoners were made to grovel on the floor like dogs whilst guards simulated sex with them, some made to sing fascist songs and salute pictures of Mussolini.
The text actually describes the liberation of Newgate prison, London, during the Gordon Riots of 1780. The riots were the largest municiple insurrection in the 18th Century, in a time that saw several others across the world. It was "a motley crew, and of every colour", The insurgent masses were working class, multi-racial, and fought for liberty against the slavery and confinement enforced by the rich. The insurrection had the aristocrats besieged and houses destroyed, the bosses and upper-classes armed themselves with military encampments and checkpoints. Parliment and the Bank of England was attacked. Newgate, the largest and most terrible dungeon, was liberated amid such fire and destruction that one spectator felt "as if not only the whole metropolis was burning, but all nations yielding to the final consummation of things."
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"Sleepless beggars without a future wondered through the night; tens of thousands of them surged from the slums of White Chapel & Southwark, from hovels and lodging-houses, from garages, brothels and inns. They do not care about the Pope or the King, about Tories, Whigs, rituals and revenue; they do not care about the art to rule and to administer. They want to cut unworthy preachers' tongues and bite the hand of those who give them the crumbles of the big cake of the mercantilist expansion; they want the current laws repealed and that everything is owned by everybody. They ardently desire the end of the status quo.
They look forward to seeing the old dream of the great London riots come true and eventually see clear wine pissed out of the public fountain. All the aristocrats came out into the streets with unprecedented mobility; they separate and then come together, concentrate and then scatter according to their inspiration. Insurrection is not confined to the borders of the working slums, but goes around the metropolis through itinerant groups, who manage to enlist more reinforcements wherever those become available.
Insurrection prefers to scatter, to divert and to run rather than to go along in a slow mass march. It chooses its aims according to their psycho geographic closeness; it does not want to obtain power, but wants to destroy it by turning all authorities and all class privileges ephemeral. Therefore it sacks rich houses, symbol of the slavery to abolish; it seeks neither for fight nor for military action; full of omnipotence and vivacity, it wants to abolish all the partitions. It aims to ban and humble its enemies; it intends to destroy the past, but hardly ever kills or captures.
Bound to lack of discipline and coordination, this ubiquitous insurrection soon shows that its ace is the lack of strategy itself. The weak troops wearily follow the mass of the rioters, without ever reaching them. In an era where punishment is preferred to supervision, the few policemen that patrol the boroughs are either led to flee or to fraternise, not being able to face the great deal of determination of those fanatics. The only bunch of warders to face the mob is confined in the Bastille-like-prison, Newgate. The news that the biggest prison of the kingdom is about to be assailed by the mob travels around London in a tic and gather tens of thousands of onlookers. The high walls of Newgate are about to fall; the right is naked.
Built in the twelfth century and secular symbol of oppression, Newgate is the biggest and oldest of the prisons in London. It was just enlarged and embellished with new external features. However its walls, sweating with dismay, never lost their horrible look for the beggars. Amongst them there are burglars, pocket pickers and thieves of all sorts, whores and fortune tellers as well as petty thieves and homeless that argued with their hosts. Not to forget boxers and virtuous stabbers. In short a large number of poor people kept in there, who have either died or are about to die.
The burnt block of the warders opens a breach in the formidable fortress. An eye-witness says that a group of rioters, determined to force their way in, smashed the doors with bars and other means, mounted on the roof of the block of the cells linked to the two blocks, where the felons are kept. The latter broke up the roof, ripped the windows off and came down through ladders. The flames surrounded them and an anti-riot squad could have blocked them at any time, but they were ready to face any risk.
The first liberator to enter the prison is called Tom Haycock. When interrogated in court regarding his motive to take part in the attack to Newgate, he simply replied "The aim". "And what else?" they asked him. "By dawn" he added "Not one prison had to be in place in London". The attackers, that had drawn the plan, confidently laid siege to that building that some of them knew all to well. They started by forcing the cells in and bringing out the prisoners, who are acclaimed by the mob as they emerge from the furnace. They are paraded with honour at the rhythm of the chains that they still have around their ankles. They are brought to the blacksmiths of the neighbourhood to free them from their chains, before letting them free in the big chaos.
300 hundred workers condemned for bad debts or felony, 3 of whom were to be hanged the following day, were thus freed, while their liberators, perching on the prison walls, looked at the fire as if in ecstasy. Some of them pissed on it as if it was a furnace to be poked, while burping, swearing and blaspheming. At the bottom of the walls celebrating dances were being performed in honour of the destruction. Gin and wine, that had been taken from the warders, who used to sell it to the prisoners, was being distributed for free in great quantities.
The poet and engraver, William Blake, who was 23 at the time, also took part in the party. The living fire that annihilated Newgate would be present in his fruitful imagination for years; those sublime moments would be the inspiration of his firing visions."
"The tigers of wrath are wiser
than the horses of instruction"
William Blake.