Some Observations Upon the Civilization of the Western Barbarians, Particularly of the English / made during the residence of some years in those parts.

by John B. Swazey

Now, the Lawyer's expectation may become verified. There is no sort of doubt in any of the twelve that the accused is a horrid wretch, and that he is guilty. But one man has got hold of an idea, based upon something said by the Judge, or perhaps only the suggestion of his own mind; and think of the vanity, the stupidity, the dishonesty, the mere indifference, the obstinacy, the excessive timidity, the weakness, which is likely to be in each of the twelve; one man has got his opinion—it is a matter of conscience. The one man is sufficient. Nothing can move him. Hour after hour passes. Night comes on—hunger knocks at the stomach; home is wanted; business is exacting; illness oppresses some, lassitude and sheer exhaustion overpower others—the one persists, only more obstinate by opposition—"The man no doubt is guilty, but I doubt if he be guilty according to law!"

They cannot agree upon a verdict. The Judge and everybody else long since have gone to their homes and pleasures. They (the twelve) cannot escape unless they agree. To be sure, they may report to the Judge late on the next day that they cannot agree—only, however, to receive new directions (!), and be sent back again and kept till they shall agree!

Human nature gives way. The one, strong and resolute, overpowers the eleven—or, rather, there have been only a part who would not have given over long ago. The fine maxim of English law—"It is better that a thousand guilty escape than that one innocent suffer"—turns the scale. There is a doubt—or something which looks like it—"let the accused have the benefit of it!"

Now, in this scene, I am taking it for granted that the twelve are really not dishonest—not one of them. But suppose one is, in secret, the determined friend of the accused!

Thus, the Verdict of the Jury (not the direct and honest opinion of twelve men in a rational and ordinary use of their minds) is recorded in the Court—Not guilty. And a murderer is at once discharged; perhaps escorted with applause from the place by associates of his evil courses. Restored to the community which doubts not his guilt, and which has been horrified, agitated, and oppressed by its frightful details! It will be noticed how admirably everything, in this system, works to procure the escape of the guilty; but it must not be overlooked that it falls with crushing weight upon the innocent. Simple and direct inquiry would generally clear him at once. But no—the theory in the minds of the officers is, that this innocency is a fraud; and the whole machinery works just as irrationally as before; because, the clear evidences of innocency are disregarded—the prisoner's guilt is unreasonably assumed (contrary to the reverse legal maxim) by the officers; and the whole crushing blow of this assumed guilt falls upon the innocent. He is thrust into prison; torn from family, friends, human sympathy; his actual trial is put off week after week, aye, month after month, whilst the officers hunt for what does not exist outside of their imaginations; and, finally, from sheer shame, the poor victim is discharged before an actual trial—discharged, it may be ruined and for ever tainted with the foul and unjust suspicion. Or, perhaps, finally tried, escapes after a long, tedious and confused scene; where the officers, anxious to convict one whom they have so long assumed to be guilty, contrive to throw just enough of suspicion upon the victim to render his life ever after insupportable! However, he finally goes at large—ruined by enormous expenses, health shattered by confinement in prison, and tainted in character. The victim of an absurd system—for the verdict is, for him, irrational and cruel. If, in the other case, not guilty did not mean what the words imply—so, in this, the Jury give a no more meaning Verdict. No expression of any actual opinion. No sympathy, no regret; nothing to reinstate the unfortunate victim of official stolidity and conceit. Nothing whatever; not so much as any compensation for loss of time and money. Meantime, during this pursuit of the innocent, the real criminal has got safely away.

Now, this strange Jury system, boasted of as the Palladium of Liberty by the English Barbarians, strikes my poor mind as something very cumbersome, irrational, and hurtful. The criminal class may well esteem it, for it seems exactly contrived to set the criminal at liberty, and to vex, terrify, annoy, and confuse everybody else. Witnesses themselves often fare more hardly than the actual criminal! and Society is shocked by needless and reiterated exposures of every particular of dreadful things to no rational purpose—unless to give fees to Lawyers and a host of busy officials, who live and fatten in these horrors.

One might suspect that the whole machinery was contrived by the Lawyers (called criminal) to effect their purpose—that is, to protect their friends and supporters; the numerous men, women, and half-grown youths swarming everywhere, and known as the criminal class.

Another unjust custom is when a man offends a Judge, he is not at once brought before him for reproof and proper correction. No; for his disrespect he is compelled to pay a fine [tsig] in money which may beggar his innocent family, or prevent his creditors from obtaining their dues; or, unable to pay, must lie in prison till it be paid, or until released by the angry Judge. Thus making the innocent to suffer! How much better in our Flowery Land, where disrespectful conduct is at once reprimanded and, if the disrespect be marked, punished on the spot, in the presence of the magistrate, and under his paternal direction.

These may serve to illustrate usages not readily referable to any principle. They are rooted in old customs, when general ignorance and universal poverty made the mass one, and when simplicity and directness were natural. They are retained now in an artificial and totally different state of society, for no better reason than the English Barbarians have for other abuses and enormities—they support the fungi which cling to them! And the upper classes find their interests concerned in maintaining things as they are. The lower classes, too ignorant to see, are made to believe that nothing in human Wisdom and experience excels these very Laws and customs! The Barbarian stolidity, too, in the well-to-do classes, supports these singular views as to the perfection of the Laws and system of administration. These classes constantly mistake this stolidity for solidity of character. When an evil is unmistakable, none the less, instead of removing it, they say, "Better bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of!" (Quoting from their great Shakespeare.) But they do not stop to consider if it must necessarily follow that when one quits one ill he flies to another. As if one with a sore finger should refuse to apply any remedy to the finger for fear he might thereupon find a sore upon his leg!