Tennessee’s first prison was opened just after New Year’s, 1831.

Inspired by the “Pennsylvania system” pioneered at Eastern State Penitentiary, it was intended for reform as much as punishment. In theory the prisoners would work at a trade and use their off hours to reflect on the magnitude of their transgressions. In fact, it didn’t take long before the place disintegrated into chaos, and from the beginning it was plagued by disease, violence, abuse, and filthy living conditions.

The original building was intended to house 200 prisoners, but it was soon found necessary to expand to keep up with a growing population. The “Jail and Penitentiary House of the State” was perpetually overcrowded, adding to the general misery within.

Originally it was situated outside the city limits, but by the middle of the 19th century the town had grown past it, and the location became part of Church Street. The north wall of the complex ran along modern-day 16th Ave. South (known originally as “Stonewall Street”). The red tile roof became an uncomfortably familiar sight to inmates, who soon nicknamed the place “Old Red Top” – a name that would later be transferred to the “new” State Prison built in 1898 (known today as “the Castle“).

And, as with all human endeavor, someone had to be first.

Tucked away in the prison records is the name of a pioneer – the very first man ever incarcerated in prison in the State of Tennessee. His name was George Washington Cook, and he entered the joint on January 21, 1831.

Cook was born in Kentucky  in 1810 and raised near Nashville before moving to Madison County during the land rush following the eviction of the Chickasaws from their native land in the “Jackson Purchase” of 1818. There, he followed the tailor’s trade.

He was convicted of “malicious stabbing” in the county circuit court, and sentenced to 2 years in prison. On entry into the new facility, the clerk noted for posterity that he was “six feet high, light hair, blue eyes, fair skin,” and had “a scar on his left thumb an inch long.” He did his time quietly and was released on schedule on Jan. 21, 1833. The clerk noted his conduct as “very good.”

Afterwards, he faded back into the shadows of history – one hopes with a better handle on his temper in the years to come.