FOOTNOTES:
Colonial Secretary's Office, 14th February, 1833.
"His Majesty's government having been pleased to enjoin the strictest fulfilment of the law upon all convicts sent to this colony, and that their punishment should be certain and severe, the Lieutenant-Governor directs the renewed attention of all public officers connected with the convict department, to the instructions which have from time to time been issued on the subject.
"His Excellency is desirous especially to impress upon them the necessity of invariably exacting the due portion of daily labor from each convict, and of not permitting any remission or indulgence but such as have been previously and especially authorised.
"The orders prohibiting convicts employed on the roads and in the public works (including clerks, messengers, and persons of that description) from laboring, under any pretence, for private individuals, or to the advantage of those in charge of them, are at all times to be most perseveringly and carefully enforced, and to avoid any misconception in a matter deemed so important by his Majesty's government, the instructions are to be understood most peremptorily to forbid every species of indulgence beyond the food, clothing, bedding, and lodging authorised by regulations to every convict.
"A proportionate degree of restraint and watchfulness over all assigned convicts is equally essential. The object of their reform, as well as punishment, must never be lost sight of.
"His Excellency is sensible that this end could never have been so successfully attained as it has been, without the zealous co-operation of the colonists at large, who in conjunction with a due exaction of labor, have very generally insisted upon the observance of orderly and regular conduct.
"As it is through this good feeling on the part of the colonists generally, that the police has proved so efficient an auxiliary in the general control of the convict population, and as it would be unjust to allow the exceptions which may yet exist to affect the reputation of the colony at large, the government will still more firmly pursue the course of withdrawing assigned servants from all masters who neglect to regard cleanly, decent, and sober habits in and out of their huts, and a seasonable attention to moral and religious duties, as part of the compact under which the labor is placed at their disposal.
"The Lieutenant-Governor on this occasion feels it due to the general body of the settlers, to acknowledge his obligation to them for the cordial support he has received at their hands in the control and management of the convict population, with which no political differences have been permitted to interfere, and his Excellency does so with the more satisfaction, at this particular time, when the attention of the Imperial Parliament is so especially drawn to the consideration of the important subject of prison discipline, and when the state of things in the colony has placed the local government in a situation to contradict the unjust imputations which have been raised against transportation as a punishment.
"By his Excellency's command,
"J. Burnett."
[211] Backhouse and Walker's observations. This evil was corrected on their representation.
[212] Par. Papers.
[213] "The Rev. Dr. Bedford, in the course of his remarks, stated that his duty had imposed upon him the painful task of attending between three and four hundred executions, and that more than nineteen-twentieths of the unhappy men who had thus miserably perished, had been brought to this end by the effects of drunkenness."—Courier; Speech at a meeting of the first Temperance Society at Hobart Town, 1832.
"It has fallen to our lot to be present at the executions of a large proportion of the malefactors who have suffered the extremity of the law in Hobart Town, and the apparent apathy with which the unhappy men met their fate, was always to us the most humiliating part of the spectacle. Their lips would utter with apparent sincerity the invocations prompted by the clergyman, but the heart, that should have given them expression, was too plainly wanting. They were empty sounds—the soul was gone. The main part of the executioner's duty was performed to his hand; the kernel was already consumed.... They sung psalms, ate a hearty meal: they heard the summons of the sheriff; their arms were pinioned; the halter was put about their neck; the cap was brought over their eyes, and they dropped into eternity with more indifference than the ox goes to the slaughter."—V. D. Land Annual; edited by Dr. Ross, 1833.
[214] 28th June, 1832.
[215] Despatch to Spring Rice.
SECTION XVIII
Governor Arthur held the reins of authority while considerable changes transpired in the elder colony. Sir Thomas Brisbane, who succeeded Macquarie, had chiefly attempted to diminish the expenditure, and in the management of convicts had sought in the results of their labor, rather than its detail, the success of transportation. Formed into gangs, they were employed in clearing farms under the inspection of government superintendents, for which the settlers paid a moderate price; but on the arrival of General Darling, the government assumed an aspect of increasing rigour, and the reins of authority were tightened until they were in danger of breaking. It does not belong to this work to examine minutely the general policy of that ruler; it was, however, held in earnest detestation by those who were, or had been prisoners. The magistrates were empowered to inflict corporal punishment to a very questionable extent, and it was customary for one settler to judge and sentence the servant of another, who in his turn performed a similar office. It is surely not necessary to prove, that the moderate exercise of such extensive powers depended rather on the equitable temper of British gentlemen than the practical limitation of their power.
On the arrival of Sir Richard Bourke, the successor of Darling, the spirit of convict discipline underwent a change. By a new law he lessened the power of the magistrates to inflict corporal punishment, and particularly terminated the system of distributing through successive days the sentence awarded. The magistrates complained that the convict servants treated the penalties to which they were liable with derision, and petitions from various districts of the colony claimed the restoration of the abolished laws. This led to the issue of an order to the various district magistrates, requesting their personal attendance at the triangles, and a special report upon the extent of suffering which resulted from the application of the lash. Superintendent Ernest Augustus Slade, son of General Slade, prepared a scourge, which was called the "regulation cat." Every flagellator through the colony was supplied with this instrument, and the effects it produced are described with scientific minuteness. The last victim was much more fortunate than the first: the lash loosened, or softened, and became more merciful at every stroke.
The description of several hundred cases in the course of one month, prove how useless, how unequal, and unavailing this form of torture. Such as these: "a fair skinned young man, he bore his punishment well;" "he resolved to bear his punishment like a man;" "he begged for some water;" "he seemed much exhausted, and cried like a child;" "this man never moved or spoke;" "he seemed to suffer much mental pain;" "he bit his lip, he had had former punishments;" "he neither cried nor spoke;" "he cried out domino." Of fifty, one half had never been flogged before. Then there follows in each case a description of the writhings of the sufferers: the discoloration of the skin, the time at which the blood appeared, and whatever might illustrate the power of the lash to degrade and torture. These returns were obtained to vindicate Governor Bourke from the charge of unseasonable lenity, and to prove that no just discontent was authorised by the mitigations he had enforced.
A great portion of these punishments were inflicted by the order of Mr. Slade. Dismissed for immoralities he was authorised to avenge, he excused them by alleging his youth. Though capricious, he was not cruel; but it is due to mankind, to protest against depositing power in the hands of young persons, who have to cover their own passions by the plea of juvenility, and who, in every part of the penal colonies, have exhibited an example of those habits which lead to crime—and too often administered public vengeance in the spirit of tyranny.
Corporal punishment, long tenaciously vindicated, by those who ruled masses of men, was held indispensible, and no severe reproach can be due to the government which authorised, or the magistrates who ordered, its infliction. It seems, indeed, to be essential to every social system that denies the ordinary rewards of labor. The rebel slave, to deprive his master, will dare any suffering which suspends or terminates his service. But beside those who employed the lash from conviction, there were others of a different stamp: it is quietly observed by Messrs. Backhouse and Walker, that they found its greatest advocates "among persons given to profane swearing." The violent temper, prone to break out in imprecations, would find another and congenial relief in scenes of torture and debasement. There were modes of punishment which no prejudice could extenuate: among these, the infliction of the lash in a form which degraded society more than it debased the sufferer. Thus, at Hobart Town, men, for mere faults, have been sentenced to exposure and the scourge, in the view of hundreds: the flagellator extinguished the last feeling of the man, and roused the temper of the demon. An old compositor, within a month of his freedom, was charged with some trifling breach of convict discipline, and though the father of grown up children, was ordered by a chief police magistrate, this cruel disgrace. He is dead—and his oppressor is dead! Such cases were not uncommon, but they are past, and they may be left to oblivion.
Whether it is possible, in the present state of penal discipline, to withdraw the scourge from the hands of authority, it might be difficult to decide: it should not, however, be forgotten, that its present comparative disuse, was once pronounced impossible; and that when flogging decreased, crimes of savage violence became unusual.
The partisans of General Darling, many of whom were eminent, both for their opulence and social worth, resented the constructive censure of his policy. They asserted that discipline was relaxed; that, under the title of the "prisoners' friend," Bourke was an incendiary, stirring up the laborers to rebellion.[216] They predicted that the diminished severity of transportation as a penalty, would suggest new arguments against it in parliament, ultimately lead to its abolition, and thus inflict a fatal injury on the colony. The press, supported by emancipists, lauded the lenient temper of the governor, and exasperated the advocates of the past system by allusions to their tyrannical rule, and exultation at their defeat. The old quarrel revived: the dissatisfied magistrates and settlers dwelt on the characteristic depravity of the emancipists; and the necessity for their permanent disqualification as jurors and electors. While they asserted the lasting civil and moral distinctions between the voluntary and expiree settlers, the patrons of the latter avenged them by maintaining that the convict was only less fortunate than his free employer, and that the moral disparity assumed and vaunted, was rather fanciful than real.
The treatment of assigned servants in New South Wales had always been more open to objection than Van Diemen's Land.[217] The transportation of 30,000, during ten years ending in 1836, produced the moral evils inseparable from such vast accumulations. Several of the settlers employed from one to two hundred men, and it was a capital object to reduce them to the feeling, while they were subject to the economy of penal slavery. There were, indeed, many mitigations and many exceptions; but the settlers at large realised less the healthy sympathy between the master and servant than was common in this country.
A class of settlers, whose management was not less exceptionable, chiefly expirees, surrounded the large estates; thus, while some convicts were considered both as criminals and slaves, others sat at the table and enjoyed the company of their masters. The results of these extremes have been already described, and are always uniform.
Among those who resented the policy of Bourke, Major Mudie was the most bitter and persevering. In his "Felonry of New South Wales," he employed every epithet of horror and contempt in condemning the conduct of this governor. The character of Mudie, as delineated by his friends, is not repulsive: they have described him as a good master and a just magistrate; but the style of his work awakens a suspicion that his temper was not fitted for the control of his fallen countrymen. They were sent to New South Wales to be punished: such was his theory. Macarthur, who participated in many of his sentiments, yet describes his own plan as the reverse. He knew that a severe gaoler could not be esteemed as a good master: "he endeavoured to make his farm servants forget that they were convicts."[218] Mudie spoke of those he employed in the tone of an executioner—nothing could wash away their guilt, or obliterate its brand. His descriptions of the "felonry"—a cutting term devised by himself, are grotesque and amusing. He deserves the fame of a satirist, but on historical questions his vehement language impairs the force of his testimony, and lessens the weight of his opinions.
This gentleman was the proprietor of Castle Forbes, an estate of large extent, where many convicts were employed. Their immediate superintendence he intrusted to his nephew, of whom their complaints were bitter and mutinous. Their remonstrances were punished: one man set out for Sydney, and carried a petition to Governor Bourke; he was sent back with a note to his master, written by the private secretary, who interceded in his behalf; but his application was irregular, and his absence unauthorised, and Mudie delivered him to the magistrate, by whom he was flogged and condemned to chains. On this, several men rose in rebellion: they attacked the house of their master, robbed him of some race horses, and attempted the life of the overseer. At their trial, and just before their death, they implored the governor to stop the cruelties which had driven them to desperation and the scaffold.
Deferring to the strong feeling excited by their appeal, Bourke appointed an enquiry. The evidence collected did not sustain the charges of the men, who probably mistook their position, and exaggerated their grievances; but their accusations made a deep impression on a certain class, and the tyranny of the settler magistrates, of whom thirty were dismissed from the commission, was denounced with increasing boldness and asperity.
Among the most effective writers of the time, was William Angus Watt, who held up the angry magistrates to derision, and their partisans, "as a faction dwindled to a shadow—
A mumping phantom of incarnate spite;
Loathed, but not feared, for rage that cannot bite."[219]
The career of this man is a curiosity of Australasian literature. Both Dr. Lang and Major Mudie have spread his fame by their works and their parliamentary evidence. He committed a crime in Scotland, for which he was outlawed; for a second, in London, he was transported. At Wellington Valley he won the favor of his superintendent employed in an office at Sydney, he conciliated the good-will of Bishop Broughton and several other clergymen, who interceded for his pardon. This was refused, but he obtained a ticket-of-leave, and engaged in the service of the editor of the Gazette, the reputed organ of the government. The profligacy of his habits, and the insolence of his writings, exposed him to observation. He lived with a female illegally at large, whose child, born in the factory, was baptised in his name. To involve the editors of the Herald in a prosecution for libel, Watt procured, by the agency of a printer in their office, a slip proof of a letter they had resolved to suppress. This he transmitted through the post to the person calumniated, to give him the necessary evidence of publication. For his share in this scandalous trick he was tried, but the paper stolen was of so little value that he was acquitted. In addressing the jury, he pointed out Major Mudie as his unrelenting persecutor, and as an oppressor of unfortunate prisoners. Mudie, to punish the alleged insolence of his defence, accused him of immorality and habitual lying, and demanded the revocation of his ticket-of-leave. The investigation lasted several weeks, and ended in the dismissal of the charge, which was not unfairly attributed to the animosities kindled by newspaper warfare, in which Mudie was more than a spectator. Judge Burton represented that the residence of Watt in Sydney was pernicious, and Governor Bourke ordered him to the district of Port Macquarie; whither he was followed by the proprietress of the Gazette, with whom he married, by the governor's permission. There he was again concerned in an official dispute: his ticket was withdrawn; he absconded, was retaken and flogged—and thus dropped down to the degraded condition which his enemies desired, and which was certainly not undeserved.
The attempt to identify Bourke with this man was an artifice of faction. The license he received was not unusual, and his previous character had been free from colonial offence. His influence resulted from his ability: his principles were the current notions of the emancipists; nor is it easy to discern how talents, such as he was supposed to possess, could be prevented from finding their level.
About this time Dr. Lang established the Observer. Its object was to write down the emancipist partisans, and the journals subject to their power. The good service performed by this earnest censor was not without alloy: and in his attacks on their moral reputation, he seemed sometimes to write what they themselves might have written. The emancipists were drawn together by common sympathies: they charged the free settlers with attempting to exact from the sufferings and failings of their brethren, a consideration in the colony, to which they were entitled neither by their rank nor their reputation. Nor was this reflection always without reason: in strange forgetfulness of the natural operation of self-love, the upper classes of New South Wales expected multitudes, often of greater wealth than themselves, to walk humbly in their presence. Such claims the emancipists met with defiance. The false morality of their journals will be largely ascribed by a calm enquirer to retaliation and hatred, rather than to a judgment corrupted—in reference to the real nature of crime.[220]
Nothing so powerfully contributed to rouse the attention of the empire, as the charge of Judge Burton, delivered to the petty jurors, at the close of the criminal court, 1835. Perhaps a more awful picture was never drawn, or a more serious impeachment pronounced against a people. This celebrated speech furnished the text of examination, when parliament once more enquired on the subject. Judge Burton asserted that the whole community seemed engaged in the commission or the punishment of crimes. Crimes, including 442 capital convictions in three years: crimes of violence, murders, manslaughters in drunken revels—deliberate perjuries, from motives of revenge or reward, were brought to light. He complained of the deficiency of religious principle: of the neglect and profanation of the sabbath: on which day the worst actions were planned and perpetrated. The convict stations he compared to "bee-hives, diligently pouring in and out; but with this difference—the one worked by day, the other by night: the one goes forth to industry, the other to plunder." These evils he traced to "squatting;" the congregation of prisoner servants in Sydney; the license of improper persons to public houses; and, more than all, the total neglect of superintendence by employers of convicts, who, armed for marauding expeditions, sometimes left their masters' premises by night, and even by day. He closed, by declaring his love to free institutions—the pride, indeed, and boast of England; but which, if conferred on such a populace, he believed would end in the corruption of all.
That this address gave a true description of a part of the population, cannot be doubted; but inferences were liable to error, even on the spot, much more when drawn at a distance. A mass of thieves under any system, if in contact with property, must produce a mass of crime; yet even in the worst days of transportation, the relapses were proportionately less than under any other system of prison discipline. In England, 30,000 such persons at large, would yield annually at least an equal number of felonies.
The abuses which were brought to light, were certainly flagrant: the most memorable was the instance of Nash, who took to Sydney the rich spoil of a robbery, and set up a large drapery warehouse; and of Gough, an assigned servant of the chief justice, who lived at large, and carried on a quiet business as a receiver of stolen goods. Cases so conspicuous strongly illustrated the evils of assignment. The miserable fate of Mudie's men, compared with the condition of such persons, naturally suggested the idea, that some new change was essential, to protect from reproach or derision the public justice of the nation.
The appointment of a committee to promote emigration from Ireland, of which Archbishop Whately was chairman, called attention to the subject of transportation. It was the opinion of the committee (1836), that to send the peasantry of Ireland to a community so polluted, was base, cruel, and impolitic. The right reverend prelate asserted that statesmen were tolerating a social organisation, destined one day to involve the empire in deep disgrace, and exhibit the awful spectacle of a nation of criminals!
The desire to possess free institutions, brought the question of transportation to a crisis. The patriotic association advocated an unrestricted concession of political rights; the anti-emancipists a limitation of the franchise to such as were always free. This division of opinion was characterised by the usual warmth of political faction, aggravated by personal anger. The petition of the exclusionists called the attention of parliament to the state of the convict question, and solicited enquiry.[221] Macarthur, whose work is a commentary on the petition, full of valuable information, suggested the abolition of assignment, the separation of the convict department and colonial government, and the establishment of large gangs, in which labor might be exacted, without partiality.
Such was the state of this important question during the last years of Arthur's administration. When he deemed the details of his penal system nearest perfection, the main principles on which it rested were undermined. The severity enjoined by Lord Stanley, and the lenity exercised by General Bourke, raised an outcry against transportation; and once more propagated the idea that in its lenity it was corrupt, and its severity cruel. A running fire was kept up by the press, which returned to the question of secondary punishments with new vigour, and repeated all the problems on this perplexing subject—perhaps, destined to confound the wise, and furnish a theme for dogmatism through all time.
In 1837, the House of Commons appointed the committee, of which Sir William Molesworth was chairman.