When an Attorney-General in 1869 brings in a Bill to abolish imprisonment for debt and deliberately tells us that he retains one class of imprisonment for debt, it is inconceivable why people to-day should strive to make out that the system we are working is not imprisonment for debt, but something else. Unless it be that the advocates of imprisonment for debt know in their heads that it is an evil, out-of-date system, and they have an instinct that it smells more sweetly under some other name.
From 1869 to the present there has been no further reform. Many hope that there never will be any, but for my part I have no doubt it will come along, not in my time, perhaps, but whenever the right moment may be. From 1869 until to-day over three hundred thousand English citizens have been actually imprisoned who have not been guilty of any crime whatsoever. They have been imprisoned mainly for poverty or, if you will, for improvidence—that blessed word that so insidiously describes in the poor that failure in economic asceticism, that lack of cold self-denial of luxury and extravagance, that absence of patient thrift and simplicity of life—characteristic features which are never wanting in the beautiful lives of those social classes above them that the poor must learn to look up to and to imitate.
CHAPTER IV
HOW THE MACHINE WORKS
| Roll on, thou ball, roll on! Through seas of inky air Roll on! It’s true I’ve got no shirts to wear, It’s true my butcher’s bill is due; It’s true my prospects all look blue— But don’t let that unsettle you! Never you mind! Roll on! W. S. Gilbert: “To the Terrestrial Globe.” |
I fear the earth will do a lot of rolling on before we abolish imprisonment for debt, but very likely I am exhibiting a somewhat senile haste in the matter which is unbecoming. To me it appears strange that, whilst in every other science the professors of it are making earnest efforts to place the result of their studies to the credit of mankind, the law seems more incapable than theology of assimilating new ideas and getting into step with the march of time. I have no hesitation in saying that the County Court, as a debt-collecting machine, is a one-horse wooden antiquity only fit for the scrap heap. If you went down to Euston and found them coupling up Puffing Billy to the Scotch Express and the engine driver dissolved in tears, you would understand the kind of hopeless feeling that oppresses me every morning when I sit down to try a hundred judgment summonses.
For how can they be said to be tried in the sense in which an Englishman is supposed to be tried before he is deprived of his liberty. There is very little evidence, often the defendant makes no appearance and does not even send his wife to tell the tale for him. He cannot afford to leave his work and she ought not to be asked to leave her babies. The word, therefore, of the plaintiff, or, more probably, the debt collector—and many of these men, making it their business and dealing daily with the Court, are far more accurate and careful than the plaintiffs themselves—this is all you have to go by. The law, as I told you, left it entirely to the taste and fancy of the judges what evidence they should receive, and though nowadays all judges honestly endeavour, I think, not to carry out the law to the full extent of its cruelty, yet naturally different men hold different views of the rights and liabilities of the poor, and so there is no sort of equality in the treatment they receive in different districts.
Thus we have in the working of imprisonment for debt everything that is undesirable. The liberty of the subject is at stake, but there is no right of trial by jury, such as the fraudulent bankrupt or any other misdemeanant is entitled to; the evidence on which the debtor is convicted and sent to gaol is any evidence that the judge thinks good enough, and within the limit of six weeks the imprisonment is anything that each particular judge determines. There is, of course, no appeal, and when the prisoner comes out of gaol he still owes the debt, though he cannot be imprisoned again for the same debt or instalment. The multiplicity of these proceedings is appalling. There are over a million small debt summonses issued every year and nearly four hundred thousand judgment summonses, of which about a quarter of a million are heard. What a waste of time and energy it all means. Judges, registrars, solicitors, bailiffs, debt collectors, the piling up of costs and fees on to the original debt, the dragging off to gaol of an occasional debtor pour encourager les autres, the breaking up of some poor home, the blackmailing of friends and relations very little better off than the poor debtor himself, the squeezing of the pittance out of the bellies of the little children to keep the father out of prison—what a picture to leave on the canvas of our own generation for our grandchildren to scoff at.