A Keyhole's Glimpse, A Gallows' Shadow: The 1835 Execution of James Pratt and John Smith
In November 1835, James Pratt and John Smith became the last men in England to be executed for homosexuality. Hanged at Newgate Prison, their fate was sealed by the testimony of a landlord who spied on them through a keyhole, a grim end to a brutal chapter of legal history.

In the cold, early morning light of November 27, 1835, two men, James Pratt and John Smith, stood on the gallows outside London's infamous Newgate Prison. Their crime was not theft, treason, or murder, though they were hanged alongside a man convicted of the latter. Their 'offence,' deemed worthy of the ultimate punishment, was having sex with each other. Their execution marks a grim and poignant milestone: they were the last two men to be executed for homosexuality in England.
A Fatal Encounter in a Rented Room
The story begins in a humble lodging house in Southwark, London. James Pratt, a 30-year-old horse-groomer with a wife and children, and John Smith, a 40-year-old unmarried labourer, sought privacy in a room rented by a third man, William Hughes. The landlord, William Bonell, lived with his family in the same building. His suspicion piqued, Bonell climbed onto the stable rafters next door and peered through the room's keyhole. What he saw would condemn two men to death.
Not content with being the sole witness, Bonell fetched his wife, who also took a turn spying through the keyhole. Based entirely on this voyeuristic intrusion, the Bonells reported the men to the police. Pratt, Smith, and Hughes were arrested, and their lives were irrevocably shattered by a moment of intimacy observed through a tiny aperture.
The Swift and Brutal Hand of Justice
The legal framework of the era was merciless. The Offences against the Person Act 1828, while reforming many aspects of England's harsh 'Bloody Code,' explicitly retained the death penalty for 'buggery,' a law dating back to King Henry VIII in 1533. The trial at the Old Bailey was swift. The only evidence presented against the men was the testimony of William Bonell and his wife. Despite the clear invasion of privacy and the lack of any other corroborating evidence, the jury delivered a guilty verdict in a matter of minutes.
All three men were sentenced to death. A public petition and some legal debate followed, but mercy was in short supply. While Hughes' sentence was commuted to transportation for life, Pratt and Smith were not so fortunate. The authorities, it seemed, were determined to make a statement. As The Times reported, the magistrates:
were determined to make an example of the first offenders who should be convicted.
This desire to enforce a moral code overrode any pleas for clemency. The fate of James Pratt and John Smith was sealed not just by law, but by a chilling resolve to purify society through terror.
The Final Morning at Newgate
On the morning of their execution, a large crowd gathered, as was common for public hangings. Pratt and Smith were led to the scaffold, where they reportedly clung to each other in their final moments. Charles Dickens, who may have witnessed the event, later wrote of the horror and depravity of the public spectacle, describing the crowd's 'thief-like tread' and 'drunkenness, blasphemy, and brutality.' For Pratt and Smith, their end was a public performance of state-sanctioned homophobia, a terrifying message to others who dared to love in the same way.
Legacy and Reflection
While Pratt and Smith were the last to be executed, the persecution did not end. The death penalty for sodomy was officially abolished in 1861, but it was replaced with long prison sentences and hard labour. The criminalization of homosexual acts between men would remain enshrined in British law for another century, until the Sexual Offences Act of 1967.
The story of James Pratt and John Smith is a harrowing reminder of a not-so-distant past when privacy was non-existent and consensual love could lead to the gallows. It highlights the devastating human cost of moral panics and discriminatory laws. Their names, nearly lost to history, represent the countless others who were persecuted, shamed, and punished under a legal system that equated their identity with the most heinous of crimes. Their memory stands as a stark testament to the long and brutal fight for LGBTQ+ rights and the enduring importance of compassion, privacy, and justice.