Part 12

In 1717, transportation assumed a prominent place in English jurisprudence. An act of parliament (4 Geo. i.) recited that the customary punishments were inefficient, and that the "labor of criminals in the colonies would benefit the nation;" and mentioned the "frequent failure of those who undertook to transport themselves." Under this law, they were committed to the charge of ship-masters, who gave bonds for their transit; and who were obliged to produce certificates that they had disposed of their cargo according to law. It is said that L40,000 per annum were raised by the contractors, carrying annually two thousand prisoners, whom they sold for L20 each.[47] For a long time these importations were highly acceptable; the demand for labor reconciling the colonists to the attendant evils. The object of the law was to exile offenders from the mother country, and bondage in America was simply intended to indemnify its cost. It was in the power of the captains to set them free, or a friendly agent by appearing as a purchaser might release them.[48] When landed, they were sold by auction to the colonists, for the term of their sentence; and even the royal pardon did not cancel an obligation to serve--except by the repayment of the purchase money to the planter.

This course had many inconveniencies, and led to atrocious crimes. The treatment of the convict depended on the individual who bought his service: the state imposed but slight responsibilities, and the colonial control was regulated by local laws.

Many notices in annals of those times indicate that the practice of kidnapping, especially of youth, was not uncommon. Johnson, in his immortal memoir of the poet, Savage, numbers in the catalogue of his mother's cruelties, an attempt to send him captive to the plantations, and to sell him for a slave.

Goldsmith refers to establishments devoted to this species of slavery:--"I regarded myself as one of those evil things that nature designed should be thrown into her lumber room, there to perish in obscurity. It happened that Mr. Crispe's office seemed invitingly open to give me a welcome reception. In this office Mr. Crispe kindly offers to sell his Majesty's subjects a generous promise of L30 a year; for which promise, all they give in return is their liberty for life, and permission to let him transport them to America as slaves."[49]

Before the era of separation, the American planters had begun to resent the influx of felons. Free labor grew plentiful, and the colonial reputation was compromised: nor were these the sole reasons for opposition; the management of negro slaves became a capital branch of domestic industry; the _prestige_ of color was endangered by the subjection of white men to the discipline of slavery.

The practice of transportation did not terminate until the era of independence. The Canadas remained loyal; but the ministers of the day did not deem it prudent to reward their submission with the stigma of transportation.

Franklin, when the colonists were about to cast off the imperial rule of Great Britain, complained of this system: he compared it to pouring "cargoes of rattlesnakes on the shores of England." He, however, maintained that this description of exiles formed but a small proportion of the American people; that of one million, eighty thousand only had been brought over the ocean, and of these one-eighth only were convicts. In reference to the number transported to America, the accounts of the British and American writers considerably differ. None were sent to the New England colonies. Jefferson, during his diplomatic residence in France, furnished a statement for the _Encyclopedie Methodique_, in which he asserted that the convict element of the American population was too small to deserve enumeration. He estimated the total number at 2,000, and their descendants at 4,000, in 1785, or something more than one-thousandth part of the entire people. This calculation has been, perhaps justly, charged with partiality; but it is useless to meet error by conjecture.[50] This obvious topic of sarcasm was early adopted. Party writers poisoned the shafts of political warfare, by references to the convict element of the trans-atlantic population: "their Adam and Eve emigrated from Newgate,"[51]--"their national propensities to fraud, they inherited from their convict ancestors,"--"they are the offspring of convicts, and they have retained the disposition of their felon progenitors." Such were the sayings of critics, lords, and statesmen: it was thus they described a people, who among their forefathers can enumerate heroes and saints; who, flying from the scourge of bigotry and despotism, laid the foundation of an empire. Can we expect more complacency?

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 37: _Oration, pro A. Coesin._]

[Footnote 38: _Tacitus_, ann. 285.]

[Footnote 39: _Discourse, by the Right Hon. Wm. Eden, on Banishment._]

[Footnote 40: _Robertson's History of America._]

[Footnote 41: See _Blackstone's Commentaries_, vol. iv. c. 31.]

[Footnote 42: _Rastall's Statutes_, p. 419.]

[Footnote 43: Chalmers.]

[Footnote 44: _Eden's Discourse._]

[Footnote 45: _Sir Joshua Child's Discourses on Trade_, 1670.]

[Footnote 46: _Letter from James II._, in the colonial-office: quoted by Chalmers.]

[Footnote 47: Introduction to _Phillip's Voyages_.]

[Footnote 48: See _Bentham's Letter to Lord Pelham_.]

[Footnote 49: _Vicar of Wakefield._]

[Footnote 50: Dr. Lang, on whose quotation (from the _Memoirs of Jefferson_, vol. i. p. 406) the above is given, would make the total number to be 50,000--a vast difference!]

SECTION II.

During and subsequent to the American war, the prisons of Great Britain were crowded. A distemper, generated in the damp and foetid atmosphere of gaols, carried off thousands: to be charged with an offence, was to be exposed to the risk of a malady generally fatal. Sometimes, it passed beyond the precincts of prisons: at Taunton, the judges and other officers of the court, and hundreds of the inhabitants, perished.

Howard, after spending a large portion of his life in retirement and devotion, was chosen sheriff of Bedfordshire. He exposed the sufferings which he witnessed; and accelerated transportation, by revealing the secrets of the prison house. It is needless to describe his labors--they belong to all nations: he reproved kings, and received the blessings of thousands ready to perish; and he lost his life in the service of mankind.[52]

The attention awakened by Howard, the philanthropist, led to the general improvement of prisons (1779). A variety of projects were suggested for the disposal of prisoners: some it was proposed to confine in dock-yards, salt works, mines, or where concentrated labour might be possible. Mr. Eden, at first, suggested that enormous offenders should be sent to the Mahomedan ports, and sold for the redemption of Christian slaves, or be employed on the coasts of Africa, on small islands, for the benefit of navigation.[53] It was recommended by a committee of the House of Commons to transport criminals to the coast of Africa and the East Indies. These plans were effectually resisted, or failed of their design.

Judge Blackstone and Mr. Eden contrived a scheme, in concert with Howard, which they embodied in the "Hard Labor Bill." Its object was twofold: to establish labor houses all over England, and to regulate the employment of convicts on board the hulks. This measure was published preparatory to its being submitted to parliament, and fell into the hands of Bentham. Hailing the movement as fraught with important improvements, he produced his Panopticon, which he described as applicable to all houses of industry, and wherever inspection is constantly required. The plan exhibits remarkable ingenuity: the separation being made consistent with continual oversight, and an economy of space with health and exercise. The design of the building itself is circular: the external area cut up into angles, and separated by walls running to a common centre. The interior is formed of a succession of circles, not inaptly compared by the satirical opponents of the scheme to a spider's web.[54] He afterwards accompanied his plans with minute definitions of the objects and methods of penal coercion.

Sir John Parnell, chancellor of the Irish exchequer, Mr. Pitt and Lord Melville of the English ministry, were anxious to establish the panopticon system in their respective countries. The design was not formally abandoned until 1813, when the erection of the Millbank Penitentiary, extinguished the scheme of Bentham. He had written political articles offensive to the court: George III. had attempted to refute his opinions, and cherished towards him the antipathy of a rival. A contract was formed with Bentham, to erect and conduct his panopticon: he had received possession of a spot of land assigned for the purpose, and nothing was wanting but the royal signature to his official appointment. His hopes were finally crushed by the obstinacy of the inexorable king.[55]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 51: _Quarterly Review_, vol. ii. p. 322.]

[Footnote 52: As a congregational dissenter, he was liable to a fine of L500, for not taking the sacramental test. It is some credit to human nature, that he was not interrupted or punished in his career of charity.]

[Footnote 53: _Eden's Discourse on Banishment._]

[Footnote 54: _Quarterly Review_, 1822.]

[Footnote 55: Dr. Bowring's account, received from Bentham in 1824. In 1813, Jeremy Bentham, on account of penitentiary, L23,578.--_Par. Pap._]

SECTION III.

Whatever advantages were supposed to pertain to a system of domestic punishment, it was opposed by formidable difficulties. To Bentham's system it was objected, that it required a supervision practically unattainable. The enthusiasm, ability, and integrity of the projector, it was alleged, would be probably confined to himself; and although the better plan, while under his eye, it would prove of all the most dangerous and inefficient, when directed by the unskilful and corrupt.[56] Nor did it prevent the return of the offender to society, and thus a relapse into crime.

The large preliminary outlay required to test the scheme of Bentham, which exceeded his first calculations, was urged against its trial, and its complicated details wearied the attention of the county magistrates. They preferred transportation, and cheerfully resigned the offender to the good or ill-fortune of his colonial career.

These views were strengthened by the increasing aversion to capital punishments. To detain a criminal for life seemed cruel to himself, and to release him would be perilous to the community. His treatment while in bonds, would vary with the temper of individuals entrusted with his punishment. This, Bentham himself confessed: he observed--"different tempers prescribe different measures of security and indulgence. Some forget that a convict in prison is a sensitive being; others that he is put in there for punishment. Some grudge him every gleam of comfort or alleviation of misery, to which his situation is susceptible; to others every little privation, every little unpleasant feeling, every unaccustomed circumstance, every necessary point of coercive discipline, presents matter for a charge of inhumanity."[57]

To American transportation, the following is a summary of his objections. 1. It was unequal: a man who had money might buy off the servitude. Again, with regard to banishment, it was unequal: some would have been glad to go by choice, others would rather die. 2. It was unexemplary: what the convict suffered, be it much or little, was unknown. 3. It was unfrugal: it occasioned great waste of life in the mode, and of money in the expenses of conveyance. 4. It did answer in some degree, in disabling the offender from doing further mischief: yet it has always been easier for a man to return from transportation than to escape from prison. 5. It answered, every now and then, the purposes of reformation pretty well; but not so well upon the whole, under the variable and uncertain direction of a private master, whose object was his own profit, as it might be expected to answer under regulations concerted by the united wisdom of the nation.[58] In these objections to American transportation the colonists will recognise familiar sounds--the chief elements of the arguments, in times both remote and recent, against the practice of transportation.

The worst class of criminals were often found in London, before their first sentence had expired. Many suffered capitally for this offence. Before the practice of contracting with shippers, political offenders preferred the continent of Europe to the hardships of America. It was made felony, without benefit of clergy (20 Geo. ii.), for rebels under sentence of transportation to reside either in France or Spain; and the inhuman penalty was denounced against their friends who might correspond with them in any form. When the crown carried out the sentence, the offender's return was still capital, and though unpopular, the guilty rarely escaped the penalty on conviction.

When this colony was established, the chief towns of Great Britain were haunted by innumerable thieves, who were organised for the purposes of robbery. In London armed men assailed passengers by night, and even by day. The arrest of robbers was accompanied with considerable danger, and it was not until towards the close of the eighteenth century that the military guard ceased to attend executions. A vast multitude of persons had degenerated into a robber caste. They lodged under the arches of bridges, or nestled in nooks or corners, wherever they could burrow. The districts of the city occupied by the better class of society, seemed but a small portion of the metropolis--like islands in a sea of vice and destitution. There were numerous places of savage amusement and small gambling houses; and young men of family, hanging loose on the world, not unfrequently became amateur adventurers in crime. The populace felt no aversion to a highwayman of spirit. The pursuit of criminals became a voluntary and profitable calling, and offenders against the laws were encouraged and sheltered, until they were ripe for the executioner.

Every part of London was the scene of executions: malefactors were hung in chains on every common and way-side. The populace treated the culprit with cheers or hisses, according to their view of his crime. Many wore a white cockade in their hats, in token of their innocence, when they were carried in procession to the scaffold.[59]

To compensate for the feebleness of the police, and the popular sympathy with crime, the crown paid L40 for each capital conviction. In 1796, a conspiracy was developed, which led to the legal slaughter of seventy persons, at a profit to the conspirators of L2,800. In 1818, the legislature reluctantly terminated this traffic in blood.[60]

Thus, after much discussion, the plan of a new penal settlement was finally preferred: denominated, in the official correspondence, "the improved Colony of New South Wales."[61] In dedicating his work to Thomas Townsend, Viscount Sydney, Collins ascribes the establishment of the colony to that nobleman. "To your patriotism" he writes, "the plan presented a prospect of political and commercial advantages." The facts recorded he alleges evinced with how much wisdom the measure was suggested and conducted; with what beneficial effects its progress had been attended, and what future benefits the parent country might with confidence anticipate. It was expected by Collins, that the colony would prove a valuable nursery for soldiers and seamen.

The territorial seal provided by the crown, stamped on the instruments of government the primary design: on the obverse, the royal arms and title; but on the reverse, convicts were represented landing, received by Industry, who, surrounded by her attributes--a bale of merchandise, a pick-axe and shovel--released them from their fetters, and pointed them to oxen ploughing. The legend was appropriate: "_Sic fortis Etruria crevit_."[62]

"He who lives among a civilised people, may estimate the labor by which society has been brought into such a state, by reading in the annals of Botany Bay, the account of a whole nation exerting itself to floor the government-house. Yet time shall come, when some Botany Bay Tacitus shall record the crimes of an emperor lineally descended from a London pickpocket."[63]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 56: Introduction to _Phillip's Voyages_.]

[Footnote 57: _Bentham's Works_, part iii. p. 122.]

[Footnote 58: _Bentham's Works_, part iii. p. 7.]

[Footnote 59: _London, in the Eighteenth Century, by Charles Knight._]

[Footnote 60: A bill was brought into parliament by Mr. Bennet: it was, however, maintained that the total abolition of such rewards would be pernicious. The heir at law of a person killed in pursuit of a highwayman, was still entitled to L40 and a Tyburn ticket, which exempted the holder from serving on a jury, and other civil liabilities.]

[Footnote 61: _Par. Papers_: quoted by Bentham, p. 174.]

[Footnote 62: _Collins_, vol. i. p. 179.]

SECTION IV.

The convicts first sent to New Holland, entered on the voyage with dread. The letters they addressed to their friends, while the fleet lay at anchor, were examined by the officers: they were filled with lamentations. They deeply deplored, that the distance of their exile cut off the hope of return; the perils of so long a voyage alone seemed frightful: should they reach the shores of New Holland, they expected to be destroyed by savages, or to pine away in want. The females seemed least to fear their banishment; and while several of the men were deeply moved, a spectator, who curiously remarked the mental influence of their prospects, saw only one woman weep.[64]

When the ocean had often been traversed by convict ships, these vague terrors declined; but the order, comfort, and security which now prevail, were little known. The freight was of such importance, that the masters were tempted to defraud the prisoners of water, and even of food; confiding in their means to silence or compensate the sufferers, when in sight of port, or to satisfy the government. So slightly considered was this species of fraud, or so useful to colonial traders, that the magistrates held the payment of a gratuity to be a bar to further inquiry.[65] The convicts were thus exposed to severe, and even dangerous privations. Scurvy, a malady often in those days fatal to half a ship's crew, broke down the strength of men emaciated, dispirited, and diseased: many perished by the way, and a much larger number arrived unfit for labor, and a public burden.

The management of a convict ship legally vested in the captain: his duty contemplating nothing more than a safe arrival. The personal government of the prisoners was confided to the surgeon, subject however to the discipline of the ship, of which the captain was exclusive judge. The health of the company was often sacrificed to the security of the vessel: the prisoners suspected of piratical intentions, were battened down and forbidden exercise, lest they should rise upon the crew. From the first, the officers in charge claimed a right to inflict corporal punishment; but, up to 1823, without the sanction of law. By the act then passed, power to order punishment was confided to the surgeon-superintendent, with the concurrence of the captain; who was intrusted with a veto, and was bound to enter his assent in the log-book, with the nature of the offence and extent of the infliction.[66]

Apprehensions of mutiny were much more common, when transportation to New Holland was recent, than experience has justified. On the slightest alarm, the prisoners were loaded with chains, fastened to ring-bolts attached to the ship's sides. Perhaps, no vessel ever crossed the Line without some plot, rumoured or real; but the most ordinary precautions have been found usually sufficient to detect and explode them: their inventors have often been their discoverers. The prisoners, commonly distrustful of each other, shrank from the confidence required to plan and execute a revolt. But when timid officers were in charge, they sometimes adopted restrictions severely oppressive; and which men of more courage and experience perceive to be needless.

During the war, the deportation of prisoners was attended with special difficulties: no ship's company were less likely to support the flag of their country. They were often delayed until a convoy could attend them. These hindrances were frequent, when this colony was founded. Both male and female prisoners were commonly forwarded together: the officers and soldiers selected companions for the voyage, and a sentence of transportation included prostitution. It is not incredible that modest women rejected life on such terms, or preferred a public execution to the ignominy of a floating brothel. These practices were first tolerated as inevitable, and afterwards justified as politic. No conspiracy could be concealed, while the women were paramours and spies; and, when long detained, the population of the ship considerably augmented before she dropped anchor. The government of the vessel was not less severe than its aspect was licentious.[67]

Thus the abuses which, during the war, penetrated every branch of public business, rioted in the convict ship; whilst the contractors, who engaged to convey the prisoners at a price, snatched a profit from the subsistence stipulated by the crown. Malignant fevers, brought from the hulks or prisons, propagated in the stagnant atmosphere, and, when combined with low and crude diet, more than decimated the list. These effects of official negligence were early apparent. The second fleet lost nearly one-fifth of the whole, either on the voyage, or shortly after the arrival. Of the previous expedition, the loss was trifling.[68] It was fitted out with integrity, surpassing the custom of the times, or the pioneers of the colony might have perished on a barren shore.

Captain Parker, of H. M. S. _Gordon_, detected this peculation: he traced the unusual mortality to the frauds of the officers, whose subduction from the standard allowance had "starved the prisoners to death;" but it was not till many years after, that the humanity of ministers interposed effectual regulations. The numbers who perished on board the _General Hewitt_, the _Surry_, and the _Three Bees_ in 1814, forced the attention of the local government to the subject; and on the report of Surgeon Redfern, great improvements were adopted.[69] The dispatch of vessels without regard to the season, brought the prisoners within the cold latitudes, and exposed them to the southern winds in the winter; and thinly clad, and enervated by the heat of the tropics, they were crowded below, or shivering on the deck. A supply of warm clothing, and the choice of the proper period of sailing, greatly mitigated the voyage; and the constant examination of the diet, samples of which were preserved, checked the avarice which cost so many lives, and had thus led to atrocious crimes. It is humiliating to find, at every step, the traces of wrong: the comforts supplied the prisoners by their friends, were often stolen by the seamen: the pledges lodged in their hands were not restored: boxes were pillaged, and the trifles furnished by the self-sacrifice of a broken-hearted parent, became the spoil of the assignees of public vengeance. These evils were aggravated by the delay of the voyage, to subserve the commercial speculations of the surgeons, who, beyond the general gains of merchandise, were allowed a large remission of the customs.

Dr. Bromley, who superintended the transit of prisoners on several occasions during the first quarter of the century, availed himself largely of these trading privileges. Thus he landed, free of duty, at the close of one voyage, 150 gallons of spirits, one hogshead of wine, and ten baskets of tobacco, beside a shipload of women. This profitable form of investment excited no local complaint, and implied no disgrace.

The female convict ships continued under the same system of management, until some flagrant instances induced the Board of Admiralty to check the grossness of vice. Of vessels remembered for their pollution, the _Friendship_ and _Janus_ are distinguished: the keys of the prison were accessible during the night: the conspiracy reached from the cabin to forecastle: the officers were libertines themselves, or, even when their conduct was least equivocal, it was difficult to obstruct irregularities: not even bars and bolts resisted the ingress of forbidden guests. The wooden barriers, which covered the entrance, were displaced by some traitress within, who left no protection to her companions but the point of honor.