Yet in England he might have seen many of his fellow countrymen hanging and rotting in chains, for there was at that date and for many years afterwards no country with a more evil record than England for the practice of capital punishment for minor offences. As to mere corporal punishment, there was not a village in England without its whipping post, and a common sight in the streets of the city was to see a poor wretch being whipped at the cart’s tail. In ordinary cases the journey was from Newgate to Ludgate, or from Charing Cross to Westminster, but for really bad cases it was extended from Newgate to Charing Cross. And not only did these punishments exist in England, but the populace enjoyed them. One of the sights of London was to see the women whipped in the Bridewell. The Court of Governors held their board meeting, presided over by a magistrate, and the sentence was executed in their presence and continued until the President struck the table in front of him with a hammer. The cry, “O good Sir Robert, knock! Pray, good Sir Robert, knock!” which the victims screamed out whilst under the lash, became a common slang cry among the lower orders in the streets of London in the seventeenth century.

There can be no doubt about the horrors of the old prisons, but it was only men and women of especial insight who recognised that there was real evil in them. Literature and art did much to arouse the public conscience. There is a strong description of the Bridewell in “Roderick Random,” where Smollett makes Miss Williams tell her life story. In this prison, she says, “I actually believed myself in hell tormented by fiends; indeed, there needs not a very extravagant imagination to form that idea; for of all the scenes on earth that of Bridewell approaches nearest the notion I had always entertained of the infernal regions. Here I saw nothing but rage, anguish and impiety; and heard nothing but groans, curses and blasphemy. In the midst of this hellish crew I was subjected to the tyranny of a barbarian who imposed upon me tasks that I could not possibly perform and then punished my incapacity with the utmost rigour and inhumanity. I was often whipped into a swoon and lashed out of it, during which miserable intervals I was robbed by my fellow-prisoners of everything about me even to my cap, shoes and stockings: I was not only destitute of necessaries but even of food, so that my wretchedness was extreme.”

No one need suppose that Smollett is guilty of exaggeration, for the well-known plate of Hogarth shows us the actual scene and the records of the place are numerous. There were, of course, just as many good and charitable men and women then as there are now, but the possibility that a Bridewell was a thing that the world had then no use for was entirely beyond the thought of the eighteenth century citizen. In the same way how few of us recognise that there is much room for reform in the penal system of to-day.

It is natural that it should be so. We arrive in the world knowing nothing much about it, we are brought up to believe that everything that has been going on for the last few centuries has been for the best, and the tired old ones who are leaving us are never tired enough to leave off telling us that they have made every possible reform that it was safe and advisable to make. In the few years of hustling life and in the scanty hours that he can spare from earning his daily bread the average citizen has little time and opportunity to investigate the social system of which he is a unit, or to understand how or why the wheels of the world machine are grinding unevenly. When we read of the horrors of two or three hundred years ago, it should not be to cast a reproach against our fathers, but rather to learn who were the men and women who moved the world of that day to see things as they were. These glorious spirits have enabled us to enter upon our inheritance free from the worst degradations of the past and we may best render them thanks and praise by learning to follow their example.

I make no doubt that most of us are much like old Fynes Moryson, who, being an ordinary average Englishman, saw the everyday horrors of his own country, but was in no way impressed by them, yet was moved to grave indignation at the wickedness and cruelties of foreigners. Truly the seventeenth century Turk was a cruel beast. Moryson tells us with honest reprobation, but in gruesome detail, of the Turkish methods of impaling, where a “man may languish two or three days in pain and hunger; if torment will permit him in that time to feel hunger for no man dares give him meat,” and of casting down malefactors to pitch upon hooks and other nameless horrors. Yet if he had been in London on October 19th, 1615, and dropped into the Guildhall, he might have heard the Lord Chief Justice of England, the great Coke, using much persuasion to Richard Weston, who, being accused of the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, stood mute, refusing to plead.

Coke and his brother judges, having failed to persuade the wretched Weston to utter a plea of not guilty, the Lord Chief Justice repeated for his benefit the law of England at that time and reminded him that the prisoner who wilfully stood mute must undergo the peine forte et dure, the extremity and rigour whereof was expressed in these words, “Onere, frigore et fame.” “For the first,” continued his Lordship, “he was to receive his punishment by the law, to be extended and then to have weights laid upon him no more than he was able to bear which were by little and little to be increased. For the second, that he was to be exposed in an open place near the prison in the open air, being naked. And; lastly, that he was to be preserved with the coarsest bread that could be got, and water out of the next sink or puddle to the place of execution, and that day he had water he should have no bread, and that day he had bread he should have no water; and in this torment he was to linger as long as nature could linger out so that often times men lived in that extremity eight or nine days; adding further that as life left him so judgment should find him. And therefore he required him upon consideration of these reasons to advise himself to plead to his country.”

Notwithstanding this advice the wretched man continued mute, but after a consideration, during an adjournment of three or four days, of the law of procedure as laid down by Lord Chief Justice Coke, Weston thought better of it and pleaded not guilty, and was duly convicted and executed.

How illogical it seems that a citizen whose State executed this form of torture on its prisoners should hold up the holy hands of horror at the variations of cruelty that satisfied the lust of the unspeakable Turk! The peine forte et dure remained one of the pillars of our law until the reign of George III. and was carried into execution in the reign of Queen Anne and George II.—so obstinately do we cling to our ancient precedents and so fearful are we of facing the narrow paths that lead to better things.

When Oliver Goldsmith wrote, “Laws grind the poor and rich men rule the law,” I do not know that he wished to make any specially unkind attack upon the rich. I imagine he merely intended to state a fact which seems in all ages to have been universally true. I do not suppose that in the middle of the eighteenth century anyone in the least recognised the actual horrors that were going on around him unless it was some poet and dreamer like Oliver himself. The strong, sensible men of that generation were as assured of their own righteousness as they are to-day.

Dr. Johnson told Dr. Maxwell that “the poor in England were better provided for than in any other country of the same extent; he did not mean little cantons or petty republics. Where a great proportion of the people (said he) are suffered to languish in helpless misery that country must be ill-policed and wretchedly governed; a decent provision for the poor is the test of civilisation. Gentlemen of education, he observed, were pretty much the same in all countries; the condition of the lower orders, the poor specially, was the true mark of national discrimination.”