The committee recommended that transportation to New South Wales, and the settled districts of Van Diemen's Land, should be discontinued: that establishments abroad should be limited to places where no free settlers were allowed to enter; that the abridgment of a sentence should be determined by fixed rules; that at its close, encouragement should be offered, to such as might merit the favor, to go to some country where support could be more easily obtained, and character recovered; and, finally, that no convict should be permitted to remain at the place of his punishment after its termination.

Such were the recommendations of this famous committee, which were carried into effect only so far as suited the convenience of the ministers; who, however, stopped transportation to New South Wales, and revoked the order in council by which that country was constituted a penal settlement. "On the 1st of August, 1840," said Lord John Russell, "transportation to New South Wales will cease for ever."

In van Diemen's Land, assignment was abolished: first in domestic service, then in the towns; and the opinion was intimated by Lord John Russell, that he inclined to the views of Archbishop Whately, with limitations and exceptions.[227]

Among writers upon the subject, who most strenuously maintained the policy of transportation, may be enumerated Bishop Broughton, Dr. Lang, Dr. Ross, of Hobart Town, Sir George Arthur, Sir John Franklin, Messrs. Macarthur, David Burns, and Captain Wood. They united in vindicating the colonists from the imputation of profligacy and cruelty. Governor Bourke was alone, among influential persons, a secret advocate of total abolition. In writing to the secretary of state, he intimated his conviction that, however strong the prejudice of the colonists in favor of penal labor, they were losers by the bargain; and that the social mischief gathering around them would soon demand a total cessation.[228]

In the voluminous productions, which for more than twenty years teemed from the colonial press, the idea of total abolition was scarcely suggested; except, indeed, in the year 1826, a colonist, under a fictitious signature, hinted in modest language that free labor might prove the cheapest in the end. The notion was tolerated, while the country was ravaged by bushrangers, but it was only treated as a curiosity and a dream.[229]

Towards the close of 1839, a meeting was held in the Mansion-house at Dublin, to promote emigration to New Zealand. A resolution was passed, on the motion of Dr. Dickenson, the chaplain of the Archbishop of Dublin, which exhibited a frightful portraiture of the Australian colonies.[230] Dr. Dickenson dwelt upon the social corruption, and declared that it was in vain to imagine a colony, so composed, could ever become respectable. The natural conclusion from the proportions of the census, the amount of crime, and the character of the expirees, was unfavorable to the colonies; but the imputation of general vice and juvenile depravity, were made most frequently by projectors of rival settlements, and were tinged with selfishness. The object of the arch-bishop and his chaplain warped their judgment, and their lofty tone induced the public to believe that they were right; yet when they described the colonies as vast brothels—as the dwelling of banditti, rank with the crimes and ripening to the ruin of Gomorrah—they were guilty of injustice. Many, who labored to civilise the brutish, and to reform the vicious, read with just indignation the statements of persons, whose station gave weight to their accusations, when they told the world that the children of the settlers surpassed, by the precosity of their depravation, the dreams of misanthropy. Against these sweeping opinions, Major Macarthur, then on the spot, earnestly protested. Dr. Broughton, on this side the globe, made an energetic remonstrance, and asserted that the report of the transportation committee could be taken only as the collection of facts, which were spread over a long period of time, and were descriptive only of a base and dishonored fraction. He asserted that a series of the Times newspaper contained a succession of atrocities which, if combined, would exhibit Great Britain as the most worthless of nations.

Inspirited by Captain Wood, of Snake Banks, the settlers of Tasmania had endeavoured to check the calumnies which assailed them. A public meeting, held when the report of the committee arrived, requested the Governor to do them justice. Sir John Franklin warmly denied the corruption imputed to the settlers, and the chief facts alleged against transportation; and the clergy united in general commendations of the liberality, decorum, and religious habits they had witnessed. This appeal was not received with much favor in England, and the London Times pertinaciously maintained that they were mere assertions of individuals—who represented that Van Diemen's Land, far from being a den of vice, was the place to look for virtue.[231]

The Archbishop of Dublin presented a petition from certain citizens of London, praying for the total abolition of transportation. He declared that no opposition, derision, or contempt, should daunt him. He advised the establishment of insular penitentiaries in the neighbourhood of Great Britain, and he moved that the punishment of transportation should be abolished immediately, completely, and finally.[232] The Bishop of Exeter, always in antagonism to Dr. Whately, asserted that his representations were exaggerated, and that crime amongst the native born population was one half less than in England. The whig Bishop of Norwich sustained the views of Dr. Whately. In reply, the minister stated that they had stripped transportation of its allurement. Some punishment for life was essential; Englishmen would not endure the perpetual imprisonment of human beings, or the sight of felons in their streets working in chains. It was resolved, however, to reduce the proportion transported, and to promote emigration. Lord Normanby observed, that although the most reverend prelate had made the question the subject of eight years meditation, he had not yet discovered a substitute which could justify abolition.

The ministers of the crown resolved to diminish transportation, but nothing was prepared for a change so great as was implied by total abolition: they, therefore, adopted a middle course, and Lord Normanby, in a despatch to Sir George Gipps, developed the policy then in the ascendant.[233] The principal scene of the future experiment, chosen by her Majesty's government, was Norfolk Island, commended by its healthy climate, its fertile soil, and its seclusion.

When the former settlers relinquished this insular paradise, it was long abandoned to desolation. The timber of the buildings was consumed by fire, lest the place should allure and accommodate pirates or enemies. In 1825, when it was re-visited, the few swine left there had multiplied; the domestic cats had become wild, and the trees were thronged with pigeons and doves. The ruined walls and blackened chimneys spread over with the unpruned vine, the coffee plant, the orange tree: the road overgrown, the stone enclosure beset with rank vegetation, amidst which many a garden flower grew wild, presented a scene, perhaps, unprecedented, except by oriental desolations.[234]

It was proposed to erect a prison on the island, in which a large body might be lodged; for which plans were forwarded, and the expenses required authorised by the crown. It was intended to remove the convicts already there; thus to preserve the prisoners transported from the united kingdom from the contaminating example of their predecessors. A commandant was to be appointed, at a salary of L800 per annum, who was expected to avoid the extremes of laxity and severity; qualified by a deep interest in the moral welfare of the prisoners. To this office Captain Maconochie was appointed by Sir George Gipps, and was permitted to test the ideas he had propounded, and to seek the success he had foretold. It was expected by the government, that the labour of the prisoners would soon almost cover the cost of their support.

The advent of Maconochie created vast excitement among the unfortunate beings. The active efforts of this officer altered the tone of the settlement, and inspired the desponding with hope: they changed the aspect of that abode of misery—where suffering, insurgency, and carnage, had furnished a dark page in penal history. True to his creed, he removed the permanent gallows, which met the eyes of the prisoners as they left their barracks for their morning toil, and abolished the doubly-loaded cats, which had been heretofore the instruments of punishment. The impulse was powerful: a new tone of command, humane even to tenderness; the promise of speedy deliverance, wrought on the minds of the prisoners with the force of novelty and surprise. The gaol doors were thrown open: the gaoler loitered before the deserted prison, and the prisoners yielded to the spell of a transient enchantment. On his arrival, Maconochie issued an "exposition" of his plan: he told the prisoners that punishment would be inflicted, to inspire the thoughtless with reflection and the guilty with repentance. Such would be its object, and such its limits. He exhorted them to a manly endurance and a diligent preparation to acquire the comforts of honest bread. He assured them, that while the escape of the incorrigible would be barred for ever, he would delight to hasten the freedom of the worthy. Thus those that earned 6,000 marks would discharge a seven years' sentence, or 7,000 would be required for ten years' servitude; and 8,000 was the composition proposed for a sentence for life. They were, however, to enjoy a portion of their earnings, which they paid in exchange for luxuries, or to reserve the whole to hasten their discharge. Thus it was possible to obtain a ticket-of-leave in one, two, or two and a-half years, from a sentence of seven, ten years, or life. He deprecated those lengthened punishments, which deprive men of the years of youth, and strengthen and ripen every evil propensity into fatal maturity.

While the government of Norfolk Island developed the novel system, accounts were conveyed to the colonies only at intervals: some in the spirit of hostility, and others because they were idle, delighted to depict the enthusiastic Maconochie as the subject of delusion, and the butt of ridicule among those he reformed; but the climax at last came.

Never was Norfolk Island so gay, or its inhabitants so joyful, as on the 25th May, 1840. A proclamation had been issued by Maconochie, describing the pleasures and festivities he contemplated. On this occasion he resolved to forget the distinction between good and bad, and to make no exception from the general indulgence; but he entreated the men to remember that on the success of this experiment his confidence would greatly depend: he warned them to suppress the first tokens of disorder, and by retiring to their quarters at the sound of the bugle, prove that they might be trusted with safety. On the morning of the day, the signal colours floated from the staff, crowned with the union jack: twenty-one guns, collected from the vessels and from the government-house, were mounted on the top of a hill, and fired a royal salute. The gates were thrown open, and eighteen hundred prisoners were set free, and joined in various amusements, of which Captain Maconochie was a frequent spectator. Eighteen hundred prisoners sat down to dinner, and at its close, having received each a small quantity of spirits with water, they drank health to the Queen and Maconochie—three times three for Victoria and the captain rent the air. They then renewed their sports, or attended a theatrical performance. New scenery, dresses, music, and songs, contributed to the hilarity of the party. The performances were, the Castle of Andalusia, in which the comic powers of the prisoners were exhibited to their companions, a variety of glees and songs, the tent scene of Richard III., the Purse, or the Benevolent Tar, and finally the national anthem.[235] At the termination, no accident had occurred; the gaol was entirely unoccupied; no theft or disorder had disgraced the day; and thus the notion of Maconochie seemed to be illustrated by the experiment. The contrast with the past system created the greatest amazement, and the description of this extraordinary scene excited universal laughter.

The long habit of connecting the notions of crime and punishment, of guilt and misery, was thus violently shocked. Its novelty gave to the policy of Norfolk Island the air of delirium: the disciplinarians of the ancient regime raised their hands with astonishment. The place, once of all most hateful, painted by fancy became an elysium: employment enlivened by plays, rum, and tobacco, was described as a cheering vicissitude in a life of crime. It was not difficult to see, that a reaction would follow, and that any untoward accident would produce a recoil.

It is said, that the prisoners at Norfolk Island deeply sympathised with their chief: that they combined in a society for mutual reformation, and that the paper which contained the outlines of the plan was headed by the well-known motto of the Irish liberator—

"Hereditary bondsmen! know ye not, who would be free, Themselves must strike the blow."

These promising appearances were soon followed by a catastrophe, attended with sad sacrifice of life.

On 21st June, 1842, the Governor Phillip stood in the Bay. A prisoner, seated upon a rock, awaited the return of his companions from the vessel, twelve in number: they had been sent to assist in unloading the stores, and had remained all night. He heard firing on board, and ran to give notice to the nearest officer: the vessel had been taken. There were twelve soldiers, beside eighteen seamen. Two sentries were placed over the hatchway, but the prisoners were allowed to pass to the deck, where they noticed the negligence of the guard, which they rapidly communicated to their comrades below. In a few minutes they were all on deck: they rushed one sentry, and attempted to seize his pistols; then threw him overboard: the other resigned his gun. Two unarmed soldiers, who were accidentally on deck, struggled against them; they were unsuccessful: one took refuge in the main chains, and slipped down into the launch; the second attempted to swim ashore, but when within a few yards from the rock, he uttered a cry, raised his hand, and disappeared. The sergeant having gained the deck, shot the nearest of the mutineers; but he received a blow which rendered him insensible. The sailors ran to the forecastle, and the hatches were fastened down; but the prisoners, unable to work the vessel, summoned two sailors from below to assist them. The soldiers, having broken through to the captain's cabin, fired through the gratings: several mutineers were wounded. The convicts then proposed to send the sailors on shore, and demanded the surrender of the captain, who answered with a shot, which struck the leader in the mouth, and passed through his brain: the remainder instantly ran below, and the vessel was retaken. One soldier, who had attempted to reach the shore, had been compelled to swim back, and had been saved by a mutineer; but in ascending the side of the vessel was shot by the sergeant in mistake. The prisoners now asked quarter, which was granted; but one, on reaching the deck, received a shot in the thigh: another raised his arms, and cried "spare me!" Either by mistake, or in revenge, his head was blown off by the fire of the soldiers. Thus the deck was covered with the dying and the dead. The wounded were landed, and the bodies of those slain were buried by moonlight.

The prisoners were confined together in a large room of the gaol, where they were visited by the chaplain and commandant, who both labored to awaken them to a sense of their guilt. Several were remarkable for their misfortunes and their crimes. They were conveyed to Sydney in the vessel they attempted to capture. On their arrival, crowds met them, anxious to catch a glimpse of the men who had dared, unarmed, so bold an enterprise. They met their fate with fortitude, and their last words were in grateful remembrance of Maconochie. The chaplain who attended them, has described[236] the gratifying change of which he was the witness; and mentions with natural indignation the negligence which suggested the attempt, the cowardice with which it was resisted, and the cruelty displayed in its suppression.

Before deciding the merits of Maconochie's system by the result at Norfolk Island, it is proper to estimate the disadvantages under which it was tried. The island was not cleared of its former occupants, and thus its corrupting traditions were perpetuated. The officers employed had been formed under another system: several regarded the process with contempt, and were involved in quarrels with its projector. They resented the diminution of personal consequence, by an attempt to give prisoners the air of free men.[237]

The application of marks in redemption from a time sentence, was forbidden in cases of second conviction: thus, while some were spurred on to labor by the prospect of earlier liberty, the older and worst offenders were rewarded in having at their own disposal the time they saved by extra exertion; too often injuriously passed.

The small extent of the island, and the absence of a free employing population prevented an uniform practical liberation of the prisoners: vessels were not always at hand, and thus tickets-of-leave were granted to prisoners, who were employed on small farms allotted for their use. The obstruction to rapid dispersion prevented the hope of liberty from acting on the imagination with proper efficacy. The experimental nature of the plan was injurious to its fame. It required constant adjustment: irregularities and excesses suggested new details, and gave to the movements of the commandant the aspect of vacillation.

The settlement continued under the command of Maconochie four years; during which time another Plan, known as the probation system, was launched on the sea of penal speculation. The destination of Norfolk Island was reversed: no more the school of reform, it was to be made the lowest deep of transportation; and well has its destiny been fulfilled.[238]

Sir George Gipps, in his address to his council,[239] announced that, after two years and a-half trial, it was found that the expense had greatly increased; he had, therefore, resolved to transfer the prisoners from Norfolk Island to Van Diemen's Land. It had been at first contemplated to establish in that island not less than from two to four thousand men; but this accumulation the ministers had found it necessary to abate: and he expressed his conviction that that settlement would be only reserved for the restraint of incorrigible offenders, and the punishment of aggravated crimes.[240]

Sir George Gipps deemed it necessary to visit Norfolk Island (1843). His stay was too brief for more than a superficial survey. His impressions, on the whole, were favorable. He found the men orderly, respectful, and contented. The "old hands," or colonial convicts, formerly subject to a discipline severe to cruelty, were softened in their demeanour. "Great and merciful as the amelioration, no evils had resulted equal to those prevented." The lash was disused: the men were permitted to walk abroad during their leisure; to fish or bathe; to mix sweet potatoes with their maize bread—an indulgence greatly prized; to use knives, and other conveniences before denied them: yet beneath these pleasing appearances a fearful demoralization was traced. The prisoners from Great Britain were exposed to examples of appalling sensual degradation: vices prevailed which have ever stained that island.

The colonial press, uniformly hostile, was crowded with grotesque delineations—a style of opposition, when not ill-founded, more fatal than the most bitter criticism. The politeness of Maconochie to his men, and which formed a part of his system, was the subject of constant humour: he treated them like gentlemen in distress; they regarded him as a patron and benefactor.[241] The recall of Maconochie had been contemplated from the publication of the birthday festivities of 1840: his administration was, however, prolonged until 1844, from the difficulty of finding a qualified successor.

The people of New South Wales, who regretted the abolition of assignment as a calamity, disapproved the scheme of Maconochie. The legislative council declared against the transportation of convicts to Norfolk Island, not only as hopeless in reference to the moral recovery of the prisoners, but tending to perpetuate all the evils of transportation without its advantages. They requested that prohibitory measures might be adopted to prevent them from entering the colony at the expiration of their sentences (1840).

The trial of the "mark system" in Norfolk Island during a period of four years, according to Captain Forster, totally failed. This was the most important element of Maconochie's reform discipline. The men, however, found means to render the accumulation of marks independent of individual conduct and moral reformation. The amount, which ranged from eight to thirty marks a-day, afforded ample means for corruption. Clever mechanics were rewarded for their skill; the strong for their strength. The convict clerks falsified the accounts; men transferred their marks to each other as a private traffic. Offences were mostly punished by the forfeiture of marks: blasphemy at thirty; insolence at fifty; and greater insubordination, two or three hundred. These are the representations of an officer hostile to the plan; but they are such as are probable in themselves, and are inseparable from every system admitting indefinite good conduct as a positive claim to liberation.[242]

The officers had been permitted to keep shops and to traffic with the prisoners; and, it was said, that a vessel was freighted from Sydney to supply them with goods. It was, however, asserted by Maconochie that the practice had prevailed before his time; that it was in harmony with the milder views which led to his appointment, and conduced to the development of social virtues; that the re-convictions of persons discharged from the island were one-third less than of prisoners trained in Van Diemen's Land. Captain Maconochie repudiated "the fearful conclusion, that to make men examples to others, it is necessary to destroy them, body and soul."[243]

Nothing could have been more ill-judged than the selection of Norfolk Island for the experiment. The detention of the doubly-convicted, men long practised in the vices of the island, was still more unfavorable to a moral reformation. The preliminary accommodations, directed by Lord Normanby, were not provided: even friendly officers were not secured; and had the scheme been ever so sound in its principles, its failure was inevitable. In retiring from office, Maconochie was permitted to recommend for indulgence all whose expectation of release was justified by his promises, and he left the island regretted by the prisoners. A total change was contemplated in the discipline of the place: Norfolk Island returned to its former character as the "lowest deep."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 227: These views are thus stated by the Archbishop:—"Thus, under a reformed system of secondary punishment, supposing transportation abolished, it strikes me as desirable, with a view to the preservation from a return to evil courses of persons released from penitentiaries, &c., after the expiration of their punishment, that such as may have evinced a disposition to reform, should be at their own desire furnished with means of emigrating to various colonies, British or foreign, in which they may mix, not with such men as their old associates in crime, but with respectable persons unacquainted with their past history; and may thus be enabled, as the phrase is, to turn over a new leaf.' This, of course, implies that they should not emigrate in a body to any one place, and as a distinct class. For juvenile offenders the same course would, perhaps, be even still more suitable."—Letter addressed to the Rev. H. Bishop, on the evidence taken before the Transportation Committee; containing his Grace's opinion on the efficacy of the punishment of transportation.]

[Footnote 228: "I may venture to assure you, the colonists will feel great satisfaction at the declared intention (1833) to continue transportation.... The great advantage they derive from the labor outweighing, in their opinion, the mischief. Regarding, however, the advancement and prosperity of this colony, as now placed on foundations which cannot be shaken, I am strongly impressed with the belief, that the manners and morals of this people would be much improved, and ultimately their wealth and happiness would be much augmented, by a gradual relinquishment of the services of convicts. Yet I am aware that this sentiment is not generally prevalent among the settlers, and I shall therefore abstain from troubling you with any detailed explanations, upon which my opinion is founded."—Despatch of Major-General Bourke, addressed to Mr. Secretary Stanley, 1834.]

[Footnote 229: Hobart Town Gazette.]

[Footnote 230: "Resolved—That in the opinion of this meeting it is unjustifiable to induce intending emigrants to take up their abode in the midst of the vice and immorality which notoriously prevail in the penal colonies; but that such persons should be encouraged to settle in countries, where they will not only be likely to thrive in fortune, but to lead good lives, and bring up their children in virtuous habits."]

[Footnote 231: Times, February 11th, 1840.]

[Footnote 232: House of Lords, 1840.]

[Footnote 233: May 11th, 1839.]

[Footnote 234: For an account of Norfolk Island see vol. i.]

[Footnote 235: The following are the characters and performers in the Castle of Andalusia: Don Caesar, John Lawrence; Scipio, George Rolfe; Fernando, James Walker; Alphonso, Henry Whitton; Spado, James King; Pedrillo, James Monns; Sanguino, James Cranston; Rafrino, James Porter; Calvetti, William Smith; Vasquez, R. Saunderson.]

[Footnote 236: See Chambers' Miscellany, vol. i.]

[Footnote 237: The idea of employing the prisoners as jurors, will not appear more strange than as witnesses, except that it is unusual:—

"These may appear singular proposals, and I readily admit that the absolute rights of prisoner jurors, and thereby their power of directly controlling the course of justice, might, without impropriety, be for a time somewhat restricted, though, if properly trained up to the privilege, and this latter confined exclusively to men in their last stage, they would very rarely, I am certain, be found wanting in what was required of them. But apart from this, the objects of interesting prisoners, when under a course of moral discipline, in the administration of justice, and of giving them confidence in its equity, are very important ones—perhaps not any in all their management are more so: and both are absolutely wanting now, and may well be so in the circumstances in which they are placed.

"In 1839, the year before my arrival at Norfolk Island, 811 cases were tried; of which only four ended in acquittal—such was the certainty at that time of conviction if accused. In 1840, I acquitted 90 out of 416 tried. (I was then, perhaps, too difficult about evidence, and in my inexperience carried abstract principle too far.) In 1841, I acquitted 25 out of 297 tried; in 1842, 24 out of 326; and in 1843, 16 out of 429. I was much in the habit of employing the officers about the court as a sort of jury, referring to them, though not formally, in cases of difficulty, and inviting them to ask questions. And I very early appointed an intelligent prisoner, in whom I otherwise had confidence, to speak for men accused of local offences, and make the most of their several statements, on condition, however, that he never said for them what he knew to be directly false. He thus served me very much, for what he did not say I sifted with the more care; and the plan altogether, and it is nearly that in the text, answered extremely well. It greatly improved the pleader himself: under the new impulses given to both his head and heart, he became almost a new man: while stupid prisoners, who could not speak for themselves, had as good a chance given them as the cleverest, and the latter, another very important point, had no better."—Maconochie on the Management of Prisoners in the Australian Colonies.]

[Footnote 238: The following extract from Maconochie's pamphlet, may be taken as his plan, matured by experience:—

"The management of penal settlements should be as follows:—1. A fictitious debt of 6,000, 8,000, or 10,000 marks should be created against every man, according to his offence, which he should redeem by labour and other good conduct, having a proportion placed to his credit daily as wages, according to his behaviour, and suffering a loss by fine if he offends. 2. No ration should be allowed him of right, except bread and water: for every thing else, following up the analogy thus created between marks and money, he should be charged in them. 3. He should be allowed, however, thus to expend his marks for present indulgencies to what extent he pleases, but never to obtain his discharge, till from his labour and economy combined (both voluntary) he shall fully redeem his debt. 4. On first arriving at a penal settlement, for a period not under three months, but beyond that depending entirely on his own regularity and proficiency, and the acquisition of marks exhibiting them, his treatment should consist of moral, religious, and other intellectual instruction in a penitentiary. 5. After this, he should for a time not under eighteen months, but the period also depending on the acquisition of marks, serve in a mutually responsible party, labouring for government, and disqualified for any situation of trust, authority or indulgence under it, or for any private service. 6. After this, he should hold for not less than fifteen months (making three years in all), and beyond this till he has fully redeemed his marks and earned his entire discharge, a ticket-of-leave in the settlement. 7. In this last stage every reasonable facility should be afforded him to accumulate a little money against his return to society. For this purpose small farms or gardens should be let to men holding this indulgence, at moderate rents in kind:—any stock or edible produce they may raise on these, beyond their rents, should be purchased from them at fair prices into the public stores:—and a fixed proportion of them (3, 4, or 5 per cent, of the entire number of prisoners on the settlement) should further be eligible, as selected by their superintendent, to fill subordinate stations of trust in the general management, and receive (say) 6d. per day as money salary, besides the marks attached to their situations. (In my proposed regulations I suggest also another mode of giving the men a little money to take with them on their return to society—which is, perhaps, a little extravagant, and it would thus admit, at least, of modification; but the point is very important.) 8. On discharge the utmost possible facilities should be afforded the men to disperse;—and their final liberation, as well as every intermediate step towards it, should in every case depend solely on having served the minimum time, and accumulated the corresponding number of marks. No discretion on either head should be vested in any local authority. The whole arrangement should be, as it were, a matter of contract; and the local authorities should have no other control over it, than to see its conditions on both sides punctually fulfilled."—Maconochie's Management, &c.]

[Footnote 239: 1843.]

[Footnote 240: Address to the Legislative Council of New South Wales, August, 1842.]

[Footnote 241: "The whole island, we understand, is in a disorganised state, and thefts of every day occurrence. A few weeks since a boat (the second) was ran away with by nine convicts: one named Barratt, who a few days before he left the island had been charged with making a picklock, for the purpose of robbing the store, of which he was acquitted; and Captain Maconochie actually begged his pardon for allowing him to be locked up."—Sydney Herald, July 26 1841.]

[Footnote 242: Comptroller-general Forster's Report, 1845.]

[Footnote 243: Observations on the State of Norfolk Island: Par. Pap. 1847.]



SECTION XXII.

Lord Normanby was succeeded by Lord John Russell, 1840. The decrease of transportation to Norfolk Island and Van Diemen's Land, was interpreted as an intention to terminate the system altogether. This was avowed in the usual organs of the government, and the colonists were warned[244] to prepare for the change which awaited them. Thus the total number arriving in Van Diemen's Land in 1839 and 1840, was little more than 2,000: less than one-fifth of the usual number transported.

Two thousand inhabitants of New South Wales made a last effort to recover their share in the benefits of convictism. They forwarded a petition to the British parliament, entreating the continuance of transportation for five years longer. Lord John Russell regarded their request as a strong argument against compliance; and a few weeks after settled the question by cancelling the order in council! The intention of Lord John Russell was to limit transportation to the worst class of offenders, estimated at 500 per annum.

Sir William Molesworth endeavoured to prevent the restoration of the practice, and proposed to supply the demand for labour by anticipating the land fund. The decision of parliament was precipitated by the contrivance of a friend of Captain Maconochie, Mr. Innes, who, in a pamphlet of considerable acumen and literary merit, set forth the value of his scheme. He asserted that the advantage of transportation as a reformatory and deterring system, notwithstanding the numerous experiments, remained yet to be resolved.[245] The House of Commons negatived the motion of Molesworth (September, 1840), and the crowded condition of the hulks excited serious complaints. The House of Commons resolved that the sentence of transportation should be carried into effect, and the prisoners sent out of the country. Lord John Russell then observed that, although he admitted that it was desirable to send a certain number of convicts abroad, where after their liberation they might earn their own livelihood, "he was bound at the same time to consider the state of society, and not expose it to the evils likely to result from a disproportionate number of convicts." (April, 1841.) He announced that not fewer than 2,000 would be sent to Norfolk Island and Tasman's Peninsula.

During these debates, Captain John Montagu, the colonial secretary, was in England. The views of this colony were favorable to transportation under the plan of assignment: many, indeed, were anxious to obtain, through the old channels, the supply of labour so necessary to their prosperity. Montagu succeeded in removing some impressions at Downing-street, unfavorable to the colonial masters, and was welcomed as their successful advocate and general benefactor. At a public dinner, given to celebrate his return, all parties united in expressions of warm respect and gratulation. The roads, he observed, were to be made, public works to be completed, and labour to be abundant. When in England, it was said, "Mr. Montagu steadily pursued one object: transportation—no matter under what modification." The system of assignment had already terminated.

It had been determined that all new prisoners should be worked in gangs, and on their dispersion should receive two classes of tickets; the last giving them greater freedom. It had been recommended by the secretary of state, to compel the prisoners in service, to wear a badge; but this open mark of slavery was exceedingly offensive, and indeed, as a measure of police, exceedingly impolitic—not only calculated to degrade well-conducted men in their own eyes, but to facilitate recognition, and secret signs; and perhaps the confederation of a large class, whose numbers it was so desirable to disguise.

The probation system, initiated by Sir John Franklin in obedience to the orders of Lord John Russell, was intended to combine the principles afterwards extended by Lord Stanley with some of the advantages supposed to result from assignment. The former practice, by which the government transferred the prisoner without delay to the service of a master, left his fate to accident.

Sir John Franklin endeavoured to meet, as far as possible, the views of all parties. To carry out the plans of Lord J. Russell, he proceeded to form gangs of from two to three hundred men, and to locate them wherever it might be practicable to render them useful. The superintendence of the scheme he committed to Captain Forster, who at the same moment held the office of police magistrate, and whose administrative tact was highly esteemed. The effects appeared, at first, encouraging, and the despatches of Sir John Franklin gave promise of success; but in 1842 he found it necessary to recall the favorable opinion: he found that many great and formidable evils were rising into strength, and that the gangs had far from realised his anticipations in the moral improvement of convicts.[246]

It is probable that transportation would have been limited by Lord John Russell, had not a change of ministry thrown the colonies into the hands of Lord Stanley. This nobleman, who succeeded September, 1841, differed greatly from his predecessors. He hinted that the colonies were not entitled to separate consideration—scarcely to notice, in the discussion of this question. That the interest of the mother country was the final and sufficient object to regard; but he did not hold the common views of assignment. He thought that it had been far too hastily condemned. Thus it did not seem improbable that on his return to power the former system, so highly prized by the colonists, would be restored.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 244: Courier, February, 1840.]

[Footnote 245: The following eloquent and touching appeal closes this very able production:—

"I am well aware of the scorn with which the main principle recognised in these pages—the reform of the culprit, is regarded by many persons. I know that the task is pronounced a hopeless, visionary one. But, that a being lives, is a Divine authority for believing him not to be beyond hopes, in which his own reclamation is implied. That the task is not an easy one, is admitted; but that is the case in reference to every other end of penal institutions as well: and, is it really so very much more difficult to reclaim a criminal than any other man given to vice? I believe not;—criminals, I think, will be found even more accessible to religious influences, sympathisingly applied, than those whose errors have had a less equivocal stamp. Their apparent hardness of heart is not always the native hardness of the rock, but more often the frozen hardness of the ice, which the sun of human sympathies may melt again. The world, accustomed to judge them harshly, to see only their crime, and to see it without its palliations—to out-cast them, makes them what they become; when instead, a discreet humanity might have converted many, after a first transgression, into useful and honored members of society.

'The tainted branches of the tree, If lopp'd with care, a strength may give, By which the rest shall bloom and live All greenly fresh and wildly free: But if the lightning in its wrath The waving boughs with fury scathe, The massy trunk the ruin feels, And never more a leaf reveals.'"

—Secondary Punishments. By Frederick Maitland Innes. 1841.]

[Footnote 246: November, 1842.]



SECTION XXIII.

When the new secretary of state saw that the probation gangs, formed under Lord John Russell's directions, were not attended with moral benefit, he attributed the failure to the defective supply of religious teaching, and not to the inherent qualities of the scheme. It became necessary to reorganise the whole plan, and to provide for the transportation of 4,000 men annually. Lord Stanley was greatly perplexed; but Captain Montagu (dismissed by Sir John Franklin) and the attorney-general of New South Wales happened to reach Downing-street at the moment: in concert with them, Lord Stanley framed the celebrated "System of Probation," which has astonished the whole civilised world.

The employment of men in gangs, had been practised from the foundation of these colonies: they usually, however, consisted of persons under short colonial sentences, and who were only sequestered awhile from society. The distribution of ten or twelve thousand men over a settled country, in parties of from two to three hundred, and subject to an oversight not usually exceeding the ordinary superintendence of free labor, was indeed an experiment, and fraught with the most important consequences.

At the head of this scheme was a comptroller-general, appointed by royal warrant, who, as colonial secretary for the convict department, was in communication with the governor alone. Under him were superintendents and overseers, religious instructors, and all other subordinate officers. He was authorised to make rules for the government of the whole, and these were minute and elaborate; and gave to the department the air of a great moral and industrial association.

The most severe form of this discipline was established at Norfolk Island, for the prisoners for life, or not less than fifteen years. For this purpose the island was relieved of persons entitled by the promises of Captain Maconochie to a more indulgent treatment, and the remainder were detained to assist in the preparation of buildings for the new plan. Thus the traditions of Norfolk Island—a complicated theory of evasion, artifice, pollution, and fraud—were preserved on the spot, and propagated through all the gangs located in Van Diemen's Land.

Persons sentenced for less offences, were transported to Van Diemen's Land: were formed into gangs, generally placed in close vicinity to the settled districts. Into these, men were drafted from Norfolk Island, when their first stage of probation was closed. The superintendents were instructed to keep a record of industrial and general improvements: the religious instructors were to insert a similar statement of moral and religious advancement. Thus it was expected, that at any instant the character and merit of every man might be known. The denominations selected to supply religious teaching were the episcopalian, wesleyan, and Roman catholic. The convicts having passed this probation were declared eligible for hire at wages, and entered the service of settlers. This portion of their progress was divided into three stages: in the first they were entitled to one-half, in the second to two-thirds, and in the last to their entire earnings. The masters were expected to pay the surplus into the hands of the crown; and the passholder was informed that the sum, if not forfeited by misconduct, would be receivable at his discharge, or in the event of death by his heirs. The fourth stage was revocable pardon, or ticket-of-leave: the holder could possess property, sue or be sued, and enjoy all the ordinary advantages of freedom, subject to police inspection. The last stage, pardon—conditional, or free: if the former, it removed the consequences of conviction in the colonies—if the latter, it had that effect in any part of the empire; but the enjoyment of this enfranchisement was made entirely dependent on the royal pleasure, and could not be demanded as a right. Such were the main provisions of the scheme: so fair in its outlines, so prodigious in its results.[247]

In describing the operations of the probation system, it may be desirable to trace throughout the branch established at Norfolk Island. Major Childs, the commandant in succession to Captain Maconochie, was nominated by Lord Stanley. His fitness for the office was assumed from his reputation as a strict disciplinarian: in this the minister was mistaken. It must not, however, be forgotten, that many of the most flagrant evils attributed to his administration, had existed at different periods during the preceding experiments.

The island was annexed by parliament to the government of Van Diemen's Land, and thus terminated a connexion with New South Wales, which had subsisted from the colonization of that country.

Captain Forster, who succeeded to the chief control, was hostile to Maconochie's system, and proceeded to interdict all the privileges he had been accustomed to grant. A gang system of labour was restored; the barter of food was forbidden; vegetable stalls, pork shops and general stores, herds of swine and private gardens, were swept away. Thus, to all the prisoners left behind by Maconochie, the new regulations were equal to an additional sentence.

Two classes of prisoners were sent to Norfolk Island under the new system. The doubly-convicted colonial prisoners, and persons sentenced in England to transportation for fifteen years or life: the accumulation of both was rapid. Many bushrangers and other capital convicts, were transmitted to that settlement, to whom the arts of a prison were fully known; who were celebrated as "flash" robbers; and who bore down by their tyrannical wickedness all the weaker or better men within their influence. The numbers on the island in 1845, were nearly 2,000; of whom one-fourth were colonial or doubly-convicted prisoners. For these rapid additions no preparation was made: the buildings in the island, adapted for prison purposes, were dilapidated and insufficient. In the sleeping wards, the hammocks were placed in contact: the men were shut up after dusk, from eighty to a hundred together, in charge of a convict wardsman, until the morning. The place of promiscuous association was called the lumber yard, and was subject to the dominion of a "ring:" there old and new prisoners met; it was regarded as an Alsatia, or sanctuary. To arrest a prisoner there would have risked the life of the constable: attempts were sometimes met with concerted resistance: the whole body would surround the culprit, and draw their knives in defiance; in several instances the officers were assaulted with violence. The assembly of such numbers in one spot destroyed all authority: the officers did not choose seriously to infringe the privileges of the "ring." Those who gave information or evidence, did so at the venture of their lives. The harmless prisoners were the victims of oppression and rapid deterioration. At a station where the English and colonial convicts were intermixed, the colonial suffered various punishments, in three months 58 per cent., the English 30 per cent.; while the English separated from direct contamination suffered only about 18 per cent. Thus contact evidently produced one-half the penal disorders of the English convicts.

The incapacity and corrupt practices of the officers were serious obstructions to their usefulness. Thus, they were found to traffic with the men; to obtain their services under false pretences. The superintendents left the actual supervision of the work to the convict sub-overseers, who, had they been inclined to preserve order, or to enforce labor, would have been liable to vengeance.

The Rev. Thomas B. Naylor, chaplain, who quitted his employment in 1845, addressed a letter to Lord Stanley, describing the condition of Norfolk Island. This letter was intended for publication; but being placed in the hands of Captain Maconochie, he transferred it to Lord Stanley. Mr. Naylor asserted that the regulations were neglected: the commandant, a good intentioned but blustering person, was utterly incompetent to secure obedience. Thus the island was ever on the verge of insurrection. Large gangs had succeeded by mutiny in obtaining terms with their officers: the commandant himself had been knocked down. Convicts of every grade were intermixed; the fresh feelings of English prisoners cruelly insulted; youths seized upon with abominable violence—inter christianos non nominandum. He described the parade of separation, classification, and religious instruction, as an elaborate scheme of delusion.[248]

The reports transmitted by different parties from Norfolk Island, were published in the colonial newspapers; and the lieutenant-governor (Wilmot) was induced to issue a commission of inquiry, entrusted to R. P. Stewart, Esq., whose bold and faithful delineation of abuses more than sustained the rumours that prevailed.

On his return to head-quarters Mr. Stewart furnished a minute report. He stated that the reins of authority were relinquished, and that the anarchy and insubordination justified the fear that the whole island would be involved in mutiny and bloodshed. He considered the commandant deficient in the qualifications required by his arduous and perilous post. This report occasioned the utmost alarm, and the executive council resolved on the removal of Major Childs without delay.

On leaving Norfolk Island, Mr. Stewart, in obedience to his instructions, recommended the commandant to a more stringent discipline. Many colonial convicts, who constituted the "ring," exercised a power over the less daring, which intimidated more than the authority of their officers, or the fear of punishment. The "flash" men conspired with the cooks to deprive their fellow-prisoners of their food, and were permitted to prepare in their own dishes the produce of their frauds.

To end this scandalous robbery of the well disposed, Mr. Stewart recommended that all should be deprived of cooking utensils, and receive their rations dressed. Unhappily the stores on the island were not sufficient to afford the stipulated quantity and kind of food. Many suffered from dysentery, which the medical officer considered to be aggravated by the state in which the maize was prepared. The sweet potato, which mixed with the meal so greatly improved the diet, was no longer attainable; pork was absurdly issued instead of vegetables; and the deficiency of proper food—a greater grievance than any amount of severity—provoked their murmurs and threatenings.

Among the leaders of the "ring," were Westwood, or Jacky Jacky, and Cavannah, both bushrangers, recently re-transported. They were both able to read and write, and possessed a sort of intelligence which renders such men more dangerous. The conduct of the English prisoners at the stations, where they were separated from the doubly-convicted, was far from disorderly, and punishments were rare. There was no lack of severity elsewhere. A stipendiary police magistrate, appointed shortly after the system was changed, organised a body of police: twenty-five thousand lashes were inflicted in sixteen months, beside other forms of punishment. The men committed to the gaol were often tortured: iron-wood gags were bridled in the mouth. Men were sometimes tied to bolts in the walls, the arms being out-stretched, and the feet in contact fastened on the floor: this was called the "spread eagle." The solitary cells, as they were named, were often crowded, and the men exposed to more than disease. Yet all this severity was useless for the purposes of discipline, while the precautions against violence and crime were comparatively neglected.

The apprehensions of Mr. Stewart were, unfortunately, realised. A murderous outbreak on the 1st of July, filled the settlement with terror. The constables were ordered, on the 30th of June, to remove the dishes and cooking utensils while the men were in the school-room. Westwood was calculating a sum: at the sound, he raised the pencil and listened; and a murmur passed through the classes: a sullen gloom overspread the whole. The next morning they were mustered for prayers: their conduct was orderly. They then marched to the lumber-yard; there they collected in a crowd, and suddenly moved to the stores, which they broke open and carried off their impounded dishes. They then returned to the yard, and Westwood told them that he was going to the gallows, and advised those who were afraid to keep back. Several armed with bludgeons; Westwood caught up an axe, and in a few moments four constables were murdered, some in their beds. The military were instantly called out, and in a very short time appeared, and the prisoners, without waiting a charge, retired to their quarters. When the account of these proceedings were received at Hobart Town, a special commission was sent down to try the rioters: thirteen suffered death.[249]

It is exceedingly difficult to determine to whom the chief blame of this fatal disaster belonged. The officers on the spot, whose testimony can be scarcely deemed impartial, alleged that it was chiefly due to the system of Maconochie: "when," said they, "the reins of discipline were tightened, the rage of the prisoners was unbounded." The police magistrate declared that he had all along expected such resistance: "before a more healthy state of things could be produced, a sacrifice would be made." It is, however, obvious that no such necessity could have existed, had the two classes of prisoners been divided, and proper military precaution secured.

On the 3rd of August, 1845, Major Childs was succeeded by John Price, Esq., formerly a police magistrate at Hobart Town. This gentleman, remarkable for his knowledge of prisoner habits, language, and artifices, was represented by the local government as unusually qualified to put down the disorders which prevailed. The greater number of the officers, civil and ecclesiastical, were dismissed or recalled; and Mr. Price commenced his career with a vigorous, summary, and, it is said, merciless exercise of his authority. The agents he employed were, of course, liable to strong objections: they were chiefly persons who were or had been prisoners; some remarkable for their crimes. The clergymen stationed on the island exhibited the most serious charges against the new commandant, and the persons acting under his authority and encouragement.[250] Cruelties of the most atrocious description, and a toleration of evils of an appalling kind; but the often insane violence of the men, scarcely admitted of either much caution or delay. It could answer no purpose to collect the awful details. In part, these charges have been disputed; but their substantial truth is, at least, rendered probable, by the accumulation of similar facts in the history of such settlements.[251]

The dismissal of the chaplains occasioned a long and painful controversy. The reports of their conduct appear to have been hastily collected; often dependant on testimony which would never be received elsewhere, unless strongly corroborated. The entire spirit of convict government is almost inevitably modified by its penal purpose. The instances are rare where a clergyman, acting in harmony with the design of the gospel, could escape the censure of men who look on prisoner piety with habitual suspicion and disdain, and who consider "doing duty," both the obligation and the limit of the clerical office. Thus when a prisoner desired to receive the sacrament, although a man of respectable origin and quiet demeanour, he was sent to the church in charge of constables, while men of far different habits were occasionally indulged with considerable liberty.

The constables were afraid for their lives: many of them, when the discipline became rigorous, implored to be removed from their office. One was sentenced to chains, for declining to be sworn; another, who had given evidence, entreated a discharge: he was refused, and was murdered. The civil commandant, Mr. Price, himself did not dare to neglect his personal safety, and appeared with loaded pistols in his belt.

When these accounts reached Downing-street, the abandonment of Norfolk Island was determined. The secretary of state having read the letter of Mr. Naylor, requested the lieutenant-governor to break up the establishment without delay: to withdraw the whole population to the settlement of Tasman's Peninsula, at the time a secondary penal station in Van Diemen's Land. No discretion was allowed in the execution of this imperative instruction. On further reflection, however, Earl Grey qualified his order.[252]

When the proposal to vacate Norfolk Island, and to settle the prisoners in this colony, became known, the inhabitants manifested the strongest indignation. Their views coinciding with the wishes of the local authorities, were received with respect, and the lieutenant-governor decided to delay the measure until the secretary of state should be fully informed. The administration of Mr. Price had quelled the mutinous temper of the convicts, and the removal of the better class had greatly diminished the number. The desirableness of an island prison to punish colonial offences, and obstinate insubordination in the English penitentiaries, overcame the intention to desert once more that spot, so celebrated for its natural beauty and moral pollution (1849). The reader will not, however, confide in present appearances; but will expect a repetition, at some future day, of those startling disclosures which have several times filled the world with horror.

The attempts of the convicts to overthrow the authorities have been numerous. Three years after the re-occupation of the island (1827) a large body murdered the guard, seized the boats, and crossed over to Phillip's Island. Seventy were engaged, and their number screened them from the capital penalty. In 1834, a still more sanguinary attempt issued in the instant loss of several lives, and the execution of eleven men. It was on this occasion that Mr. Justice Burton sat as judge: when he heard the appeal which "brought tears to his eyes, and wrung his heart;" and which, recorded by the famous anti-transportation committee of the House of Commons, told with such power on public opinion. The culprit being brought up for sentence said—"Let a man be what he will, when he comes here he soon becomes as bad as the rest: a man's heart is taken from him, and there is given him the heart of a beast."

Such has been always the result of capricious severity; and not only to the prisoners—to the ministers of vengeance might often be extended, without injustice, the appalling description.

The administration of law at Norfolk Island was but a choice of difficulties. Special commissions were of late sent down, when cases were urgent or numerous. The temptation to risk life for a release from toil, or the excitement of a voyage, was thus removed. But at this settlement the formalities of justice were but a slight security for its fair distribution. The value of an oath was less than the least favour of the authorities; the prisoners without counsel; the jury taken from the garrison. A convict attorney was occasionally permitted to advise the accused; but in the case of the July rioters such aid was denied, and several who were convicted, died protesting their innocence. During the assize, one judge sat with the military as an assessor, under the old law of New South Wales; a second, under the law of Van Diemen's Land, which appoints a jury. Capital convictions were thus obtained by a process, one or the other, totally illegal. These would be deemed slight considerations, taken separately; but it is difficult to be satisfied with a trial, in which all, except the judge, may be interested in the prisoner's condemnation. Substantial justice will not be long secure, when its usual conditions are either evaded, or are impracticable. A civilized nation would release the culprit rather than condemn him in haste, and the judge is criminal who smites contrary to the law, though he smites only the guilty.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 247: Despatch of Lord Stanley, 1842.]

[Footnote 248: Par. Pap. 1847.]

[Footnote 249: The following was addressed by Westwood, on the eve of his execution:—"Sir,—The strong ties of earth will be soon terminated, and the burning fever will soon be quenched. My grave will be a heaven—a resting place for me, Wm. Westwood. Sir, out of the bitter cup of misery I have drunk from my sixteenth year—ten long years, and the sweetest thought is that which takes away my living death. It is the friend which deceives no man: all will then be quiet; no tyrant will disturb my repose, I hope—WM. WESTWOOD."—Letter to Rev. Thomas Rogers.]

[Footnote 250: Correspondence relative to the dismissal of the Rev. T. Rogers.]

[Footnote 251: "That I may not be supposed to speak heedlessly when I say that the gaol treatment, at the period spoken of, was of itself sufficient to derange men's intellects, I subjoin a few facts in proof of my assertion, taken from written communications made to me by several respectable officers with whom I am acquainted. The original letters are in my possession:—

EXTRACTS.

August 6.—Visited the general hospital; found a man named Lemon dreadfully beaten, and having his arm broken. It appears that constable Baldock was taking a man to gaol, charged with either having or using a towel irregularly. He threw his shirt to Lemon, and asked him to get it washed. Baldock would not allow him (Lemon) to have it. Upon this the man Lemon gave Baldock either a blow or, as he says, a push, when a number of constables fell upon him and beat him with their clubs. It was just as divine service was commencing yesterday evening. All the officers and constables left the church, except Mr. Duncan, and the "old hands" made a general rush towards the windows to see what was going on. Mr. Bott told me he interfered to cause the constables to desist after the man was down, but Baldock said "lay it into him—lay it into him." While down he was handcuffed with his hands behind him; after this he was taken to gaol and gagged two hours, with his hands chained behind him to the lamp post, having all this time his arm broken! He was then taken to the new gaol, and Stephens sent for the doctor who received him into hospital.

April 16 (Friday).—Had a long chat with Dytton. He was chained down to the floor by Mr. —— order, and had been gagged. I asked the reason: he said for getting up to the window to get some air in the hospital cell, as the doctor had ordered him to have air and he was refused out. He has been ill at the general hospital—had six or seven weeks' sickness—has never been well since a beating he received while I was absent from the island. He was then in the chain-gang. Some pegs had been removed upon which he hung his clothes and rations. He abused the gaoler for removing the pegs; was gagged and taken to the new gaol, and chained down; was then dreadfully beaten by six or seven constables. He lay in a puddle of blood. The next day a constable came in and jumped upon him, and severely hurt his chest: he pierced his body with a piece of sharp iron or steel. He showed me a scar on his arm he had received on that occasion. He said Mr. Elliot came to the cell and found him in that mutilated condition, and asked —— when it was done. —— replied, "he received a portion yesterday and a portion to-day."

August 6, 1847.—Visited the gaol. Found Waters strapped down on suspicion of having prevented his eye from recovering. His back was bad, having been flogged, and the cord which laced the straitwaistcoat which they put on him pained him much. His eye was very bad. He was laid on his back, bound unable to stir hand or foot, and in agony of pain from the pressure of his lacerated back on the lacing cord. Having asked to see Major Harrold as a magistrate, he said to the turnkey, "If I am guilty of injuring myself let me be punished; but if not, why am I strapped down?" For saying this he was flogged! He told me that Dr. Everett said he did not think he had done anything to his eye. I saw him again soon after: he said his back had stunk most offensively, and through the intercession of the turnkey Mr. Price had allowed the cord to be removed; but his hands were chained to the foot of the bed. He had received a sentence of eighteen months on the reef in chains. [Note: Some of these chains were 36lbs. weight; and on the reef the men had mostly to work up to the middle in water.—T.R.]"

"In one of the turnkeys' rooms in the new gaol is to be seen an article of harness, that at first sight creates surprise in the mind of the beholder, when considering what animal of the brute creation exists of so diminutive a size as to admit of its use; but on enquiry it will be found to be a bridle, perfect in head band, throat lash, &c., for a fellow creature. There is attached to it a round piece of ironwood of almost 4 inches in length, and 1-1/2 in diameter; this again is secured in a broad strap of leather to cross the mouth. In the wood there is a small hole, and, when used, the wood is inserted in the mouth, the small hole being the only breathing space; and when the whole is secured with the various straps and buckles, a more complete bridle in resemblance could not well be witnessed. This is one of Mr. —— instruments for torturing the unhappy and fallen men, and on one occasion I was compelled to witness its application on a poor blind wretch, named Edward Mooney. My duty required my attendance at the gaol occasionally. I came in one evening after eight o'clock. I was conversing with one of the turnkeys; the notorious ——, who robbed Mr. Waterhouse of L700, was present; he also at that time being a turnkey, holding a third class pass, and in receipt of 2s. per diem. Everything was quite still. I could not help remarking how quiet the gaol was, when the said —— exclaimed, 'there's some one speaking; I know what b—— it is;' and forthwith took from its pegs one of the bridles just described and a pair of handcuffs. I followed him to one of the cells which he opened, and therein was a man lying on his straw mat undressed, and to all appearance asleep. —— desired him to get up, calling him by his name, and to dress himself. He did so, and came out into the yard, where —— inserted the ironwood gag into his mouth, and the sound produced by his breathing through it (which appeared to be done with great difficulty) resembled a low indistinct whistle. He then led him to the lamp post in the yard, placing him with his back to it, and his arms being taken round were secured by the handcuffs round the post. As the night was very chilly, I buttoned his jacket up to the throat, speaking at the same time a few words to cheer him, that brought tears from his sightless eyes, to think that some one felt for his miserable and forlorn condition; and this convinced me still further, that even the most hardened villain can be melted by kindness, however trifling. Having enquired how long he was to remain in the condition described, I was told three hours!"

"Perkins had another drubbing some time since coming out of church. —— a prisoner constable, was the first to fall on him, and after him a host who soon covered him with blood and wounds, for not walking in a proper manner out of church. And the commandant allowed this drubbing to stand as a sort of instalment of punishment when the man was brought up for trial. On account of the beating he received a lighter magisterial sentence. Mr. —— told me one day that the commandant censured the conduct of the constables who complained of some man not opening his mouth to have the inside of it searched for tobacco. It seems they were deemed blameworthy for having in this instance neglected to use violence. 'Why didn't you knock him down like a bullock?' was the interrogatory at Norfolk Island!"—Correspondence, pp. 41, 42.

"Before Mr. Price's arrival I resided for twelve months on the Cascade station. Its strength was between three and four hundred men. I have known this station to continue twenty days without a single case requiring the intervention of a magistrate. Within three months after Mr. Price's arrival, I have known forty cases for the police-office on one single morning! Many of the men thus brought up were sentenced to solitary confinement, and sent to the Longridge cells—our own not being sufficient to contain a quarter of them. The Longridge station had a strength of five hundred men, and the united solitary sentences of both stations often trebly filled the Longridge cells. I have frequently found in my daily visits as chaplain from twenty to forty men confined by threes and fours in the Longridge cells, doing what was called 'solitary;'—three men sleeping together on the floor of a cell four and a half feet wide by seven feet long. For pulling a lemon or guava—for laughing in the presence of a convict policeman—for having a pipe—for wearing a belt or button not issued by government—for mustering in dirty trousers on Sunday, although to wash them the owner would have to go naked all the Saturday afternoon—for having half or a quarter of a pipeful of tobacco—for offences the most trivial, and sometimes on false charges—the most inoffensive and best behaved men of Cascade and Longridge were often to be found filling up the cells which might otherwise have been set apart for the custody of some of the grosser criminals who were tried at the assizes.... The convicts selected as constables were like a ruthless band of predatory assailants, seizing their fellow-prisoners under any and every pretence, in order to have 'cases for the police-office!' A first-class officer overheard the following speech uttered by a convict policeman:—'I have no case for court this morning—what will Mr. —— say to me? But a case I must have—and a case I will have—and here goes!' This policeman proceeded with another into the bush, and in an hour returned bringing in two men on a capital charge. On the evidence of their captors alone these two men were committed to gaol, tried at the assizes, and sentenced to death. By whom were the police compelled to such activity? By Mr. Price. His opinion, publicly expressed, was, that a policeman could not be doing his duty unless he had 'cases for court.'"—Ibid, pp. 88, 89.

* * * * *

"A short analysis of the abstract would quickly strip the favored '25' of some rays of their infamous glory, and do more to expose the blunders, follies, and ferocious inhumanities of convict discipline than volumes of concocted reports and oracular despatches. From his position, Dr. Hampton must know that under the name of discipline, deeds have been done sufficiently atrocious to glut the soul of a Caligula. He knows that the perjuries and punishments about tobacco were sins that cried to heaven for abolition. He knows that in every seven cases out of ten the convicts at a penal station are more sinned against than sinning. Nothing is required to prove this but a critical inspection of their 'police sheets.' In the court-house at Hobart Town, a youth, E—— G——, aged 19, was on his trial for a capital offence. The crown prosecutor referred to the prisoner's bad character as exhibited by the unusual number of offences on his police sheet. The judge asked to see the parchment. While looking at it, G—— said, 'Your honor, the whole of them wouldn't make one —— good one!' For a few moments the judge continued to examine the record, and then flung it on the floor of the court-house with an expression of disgust at the childish nature of the 'trifling offences' set down as serious crimes."—Review of Dr. Hampton's First Report on Norfolk Island: By Rev. T. Rogers. p. 21.]

[Footnote 252: Despatches, 30th September and 7th November, 1846.]



SECTION XXIV.

But Van Diemen's Land was the chief sphere of the probation system. The colonists, at first, were not indisposed towards the experiment: the promise of an unlimited expenditure and a boundless supply of labor reconciled them to its gigantic proportions. It assumed the air of philanthropy: Sir John Franklin, when he announced the first outline of the scheme, referred to the redemption of the negro slave, and said—"that England was about to incur a large expenditure in the attempt to emancipate her erring children from the infinitely more degrading slavery of crime."[253] This picture was fully borne out by Sir James Graham, who observed, in reference to the probationer—"New scenes will open to his view, where skilled labor is in great demand; where the earnings of industry rapidly accumulate. The prisoner should be made to know that he enters on a new career. The classification of the convicts in the colony (of Van Diemen's Land), as set forth in Lord Stanley's despatch, should be made intelligible to him. He should be told that he will be sent to Van Diemen's Land: there, if he behave well, at once to receive a ticket-of-leave, which is equivalent to freedom, with the certainty of abundant maintenance, the fruits of industry."[254]

In describing the probation system it is not necessary to do more than state its general aspects and acknowledged results. The publications in the colonies and the official documents substantially concur, and with minute controversy history has no concern. To view the subject with the prejudices of a party would be treason to those important interests affected by the question. Crime will still be committed—and its treatment, the great problem of the age, is the business of all men.

The comptroller-general, Captain Forster, who obtained his appointment by the influence of Captain Montagu, entered on his office when Sir Eardley Wilmot arrived (1843), and re-modelled the practical measures of Dr. Milligan, who for a time, under the auspices of Sir John Franklin, had possessed the chief command. Captain Forster was too well acquainted with discipline to entertain the smallest expectation of ultimate success. Among his friends he expressed his distrust without reserve: but believing the home government irrevocably pledged, he concluded that penal philosophy was not his affair; and, not without reason, that he was better qualified than a stranger to mitigate the natural tendencies of the system. He had not been consulted in its structure: he did not hold himself responsible for its errors or results.

During four years, ending in 1844, more than 15,000 prisoners arrived: in 1847, there were, in all, 30,000. Free emigration was stopped. In 1842, 2,446 emigrants landed; in 1843, 26; in 1844, only 1.[255] The greater number of transports under short sentences became almost immediately eligible for hire, who were at first preferred by the farmers to free men. The free laborers rapidly retreated to the other colonies. Gangs of probationers were formed throughout the country. Their locations were chiefly selected with reference rather to their easy accommodation than their useful employment. A few large gangs were established beyond the settled country, but the greater part were lodged in the old buildings erected for the use of road parties, and ill-adapted for either moral or industrial operations.

Van Diemen's Land was supposed by the crown to be peculiarly fitted for the experiment: an area nearly equal to Ireland, occupied by little more than 50,000 inhabitants, appeared to offer ample room for the stations. It was not considered that the free population was condensed chiefly within a line of country between the Derwent and Tamar, or on the borders of those rivers; and that however a temporary location might be chosen, the settled districts must ultimately absorb the pass and ticket holders. Most were within a few hours, nearly all within a day's journey of the free population. The ample supply of food; a system of moral training, which devoted considerable time to books and pencils; a decided discouragement of strictness in discipline and severity in punishment, removed the temptation to rebel. The chief grievance of the prisoners was the prohibition of smoking, often indeed evaded by the connivance and assistance of the overseers; yet, while at some stations indolence and plenty prevailed, at others, remote from the public eye, misery and vice existed to an extent too awful for more than mere reference. At the coal mines the men were robbed of their provisions by their fellow-prisoners; new clothing was not issued until they were in tatters; hundreds were without shirts, scores without shoes, and some only wrapped round with rugs (1843). These evils were certainly not lasting; but they have been by no means unfrequent at stations remote from the capital, and from the notice of the press.

The colony did not afford a sufficient corps of able and conscientious superintendents: many were military and naval officers, qualified to control, but utterly unable to instruct. The quiet movement of the vast system was earnestly desired by the local government: its effects would, of course, be inferred from the absence of punishments; and it was understood by the lower officers, that the shorter their black lists, the more agreeable their periodical reports. It was stated by the comptroller that they were engaged to carry out the system, not to condemn it; and disaffection ended in dismissal.[256]

The rapid increase of numbers disconcerted the comptroller. The new arrivals were sent to crowd the stations of their predecessors: order, and even decency, were impracticable. The accommodation of the officers was often miserable: too distant for proper inspection.

As the men removed from Norfolk Island were added to the gangs, their tendencies became more alarming and apparent: they were of the worst possible description, and defied all remedy.[257] No artifices of language will enable the moralist to describe them.

The mean pay of the officers, their uncertain tenure of office, and the nature of their duties, would only attract candidates for employment as a temporary expedient. The control of considerable bodies of men, under favorable circumstances, demands both vigilance and firmness. The prisoners perceive, almost at a glance, the character of their superiors: their history and habits are the theme of constant inquiry and discussion. An equal temper and unwearied attention are required in this arduous occupation. But the persons engaged were often wholly disqualified by their past pursuits and personal character, to inspire either awe or respect. The practical oversight was often committed to the least responsible.

The religious instructors selected by the government, though chiefly of the episcopal or catholic professions, were of miscellaneous origin. The clergy of all persuasions were formerly admitted to the road parties; their discourses were welcome, for they gave an interval from toil: some performed service on the sabbath at their own charge. The new instructors were strictly official: some, indeed, highly educated men, of long standing in their respective churches; others were the off-shoots of various sects, without education or personal dignity. Of their qualifications, several high officers have spoken with contempt.[258] These opinions were, however, partly the indirect result of disputes, in which the instructors were very generally involved. Several were known to convey accounts of evils within the stockades, which it was the desire of the department both to conceal and to suppress: notwithstanding, many were deficient in zeal and ability. Their labors were strictly formal, and were soon considered hopeless. Several exceptions must be understood; but to select them would be invidious. The exclusive occupation of clergymen as teachers of convicts, is generally unfavorable to their usefulness: the recognised pastor of a congregation brings to the prison the reputation and sanctity of his character among the free; the instructor of a gang is soon considered but as the agent of penal government.

The basis of Lord Stanley's system was an imaginary demand for labor in Van Diemen's Land. The home government was so confident in this resource, that placards were suspended on the English prisons, holding forth the prospect of high wages as the final stage of transportation. The execution of public works in the colonies, except at an equivalent price, was strictly prohibited. By improving the settled parts of the colony, the crown might have increased its attraction to capitalists, and by diverting an excess of laborers excited the competition of masters. The governor was desirous of allaying colonial irritation by some substantial boon: the orders of Lord Stanley were, however, rigid. The comptroller-general was forbidden to adopt any detailed regulation at variance with the scheme prescribed by the crown, or to alter or depart from its provisions, without express authority.[259]

The demands of the settlers for laborers soon fell far short of the supply. The written contracts for the passholders in the first stages of service bound the master to pay over a portion of their wages to the crown: this course was troublesome. Thus few, except in the last stage of their service, were able to obtain employment at all; and the graduated scale of payment fell to the ground. The accumulation at the hiring depots, sometimes to the number of 4,000, who could obtain no engagement, induced the governor to urge their useful employment in public works. He stated that neither private individuals nor the colonial treasury could afford to employ them in improvements of prospective utility, and recommended that a fixed moderate payment should be accepted, in return for the service they might perform. The reply of his lordship was decided:—"If," he observed, "the free inhabitants cannot purchase the labor we have to sell, at a price which it is worth our while to accept, it remains for us to consider whether other advantageous employment cannot be found." "The necessaries of life may be produced to such an extent, as to render the convicts independent of the free colonists, who are not entitled to claim any compensation for the inconvenience with which their presence may be attended." His lordship proposed that new lands should be surveyed, cultivated, and sold for the advantage of the imperial treasury; and thus the government might assert "its independence of the settlers," and teach them to "appreciate correctly the value of convict labor."[260]

The defiant tone of this despatch, and its contemptuous reference to the settlers, determined the question of transportation.[261] The partizans of abolition could assail the system at its foundation. Thenceforth the interests of the colonists, moral and material, were obviously one. The crown was to compete in the market with the farmer and the landowner; and the labor market to be overruled by official contrivance, for the benefit of the imperial treasury.

The colonial newspapers were filled with notices of robberies, and the complaints of employers. A rapid emigration took place: free laborers and mechanics sold their properties, acquired by years of toil, often for a trifling sum; and the immigrants, brought to the colony at great public and private cost, almost universally passed over to the adjacent communities.

The comptroller-general attempted to carry out the supplementary plan ordered by Lord Stanley. Agricultural establishments were formed; but this only provided for the probationers. The passholders were entitled to enter the service of the settlers. To detain them twenty miles from the nearest farm-house, was to extend indefinitely the first stage of punishment; but when drafted to the settled districts, they could not be employed,[262] except for the benefit of the colony, and against this resource the decision of Lord Stanley was imperative.[263]

The hiring depots were placed in settled districts or chief towns. The stage of rigid discipline being past, the convicts were not required to labour with diligence, or suffer much restraint. They were now deemed fit for society, and it was merely the fault of their numbers that many were unemployed. They were permitted to roam about in search of casual employment—to spread themselves over the country. They were allowed to expend the money they acquired in temporary service, and while any remained they were unwilling to accept an engagement. Thus they were fed and clothed, and lightly worked: they were free from care, their time was running out, and they were objects rather of envy than commiseration.

The official reports of the probation system forwarded to Downing-street, were not unfavorable. Lord Stanley asserted in his place, "that from all he could judge the system had been productive of the most beneficial results, and that the general conduct of the convicts had been most satisfactory;"[264] but in his despatch to the governor, he complained that, amidst an abundance of statistics, the notices of moral success were "slight, unimportant, and few."[265]

The operation of the system was, however, well known to his lordship. The under-secretary, Sir J. Stephen, with extraordinary exactness, described the actual condition of the prisoner population—"living, not by a healthy competition for employment, but by an habitual and listless dependence on the public purse." He depicted the apathy and indolence, the low tone of moral feeling, the lamentable and degrading habits which prevailed; and asserted that in the hands of Lord Stanley, were proofs of an existing state of convict society, such as would be contemplated with deep solicitude. It may not be impossible to reconcile in detail these official and parliamentary declarations; but, taken alone, they would lessen our confidence in the value of ministerial explanations, not less than in official reports.

The comptroller-general stated that the system would not only prove beneficial to Great Britain, but work a great moral reformation in the convict population:[266] "that it had fully answered its object." These assertions were confirmed by the governor, who remarked, "that the men behaved as well as possible." Such views were strongly opposed by other testimony; among the most conspicuous was that of Dr. Hampton, surgeon-superintendent of the Sir George Seymour, who, charged with the care of a party from Pentonville prison, resided some time in the colony. He described the prisoner population as sunk in the deepest debasement; the ticket-holders in great misery; the reformed prisoners committed to the charge of felons; the better disposed taunted as "pets, psalm-singers, and Pentonvillains." Whatever had been most strongly affirmed by the enemies of the system, was amply sustained by his testimony.[267]

To the same effect was the evidence of Mr. Boyd, formerly of Pentonville, and appointed an assistant-superintendent to Darlington, Maria Island. This station was regarded by the government as superior to all. Separated entirely from the free population, it was accessible only by authority; yet close to head-quarters, it had the advantage of direct inspection and control. There were, at this time, 800 persons subject to twenty-one officers, civil and religious. Not a single soldier was on the island, and yet there were "no prisoners more orderly, or better behaved, in Van Diemen's Land."[268] This reputation it maintained, while the stations of Rocky Hills and Broad Marsh, were infamous for the abandonment of all order and decency. "Few could be favorably compared with Darlington, and none possessed its local advantages."[269] But the interior, as described by Mr. Boyd, entirely changes the scene. He declared the precautions against corrupt intercourse insufficient and unsuccessful: the most disgusting language was common; hoary villains and boys were worked together; the school books were torn and defaced; education was mere pretence; a large proportion of offences were unpunished; lashes were received in hardened indifference; the criminal habits of the men were unbroken; conspiracies to murder were frequently denounced. On the whole he concluded, that there could exist no better school of crime than a probation station.[270]

The laxity which prevailed was everywhere confessed, except by the immediate dependents of government. The Rev. Mr. Fry, a clergyman of Hobart Town, differed, however, with the colony in general. His earnest defence of the probation system (1845) was published by command, and quoted by Lord Stanley in the House of Lords. He asserted that the convict population had placed the settlers in ease and opulence; and that the bulk of the colonists were emancipists, who were bound to assist the condemned outcasts of Europe to acquire honesty and independence. "The clank of chains," said the reverend gentleman, "is now seldom heard, and the deportment of free laborers, grateful and respectful, has succeeded to the scowl of malignity, with which the assigned white slaves regarded their owners." He asserted that the gangs recalled the men from intemperance; that they were attentive to religious teaching; that the parties, although almost abandoned to self-discipline, yet lived tranquilly, unawed by surrounding force. These opinions were afterwards modified.[271]

Notwithstanding the habitual acquiescence of the colonists in the measures of the crown, the development of Lord Stanley's system occasioned considerable sensation. The rapid increase of prisoners early excited alarm. The masses accumulated from all parts of the empire presented a new and fearful aspect: crimes reached a height beyond example in any civilised country. The settlers, environed by parties, were subject to frequent irruptions, and were compelled to guard their dwellings, as if exposed to a foreign enemy. The men wandered miles from the stations, alone: at the hiring depots they were left almost to their discretion. According to the evidence of a magistrate, neither the comptroller-general, nor any confidential subordinate, visited the station of Cleveland from its establishment to its dissolution. At another, ninety men, near the township of Oatlands, under the charge of one free overseer, were worked in a line of seven miles extent. A settler, whose flocks had been pillaged, brought back twice in one month the same party; and again they escaped, threatening vengeance on the authors of their arrest. At Jerusalem station, 800 convicts were permitted to roam on their parole; to carry bundles in and out of barracks unsearched; to disguise their persons, and to change their dress. Their daring highway robberies ended in the proof of these facts before the supreme court at Hobart Town. At Deloraine, nearly one thousand prisoners were in charge of twenty persons, including the military: on one occasion, eighteen started for the bush, and filled the neighbourhood with terror. The local authorities could offer nothing but condolence; and even this poor relief was presented in a peculiar form. It was alleged that the amount of depredation and violence had not risen more rapidly than the number of convicts. This was scarcely correct; but it was little consolatory to the sufferers, assailed so much the more frequently, though by different hands.[272] Their honors the judges, with repeated and pointed condemnation, reprehended the utter want of proper surveillance and restraint, as cruel alike to the settlers and the convicts. Nor were the towns exempt from extraordinary inundations: many hundreds of men were turned out from the penitentiary on Saturday afternoon, and were thus exposed to the temptations of a populous city.

The officers of the department were charged with the trial of a system professing to breathe the most exalted charity. Had they, however, designed to expose theoretical benevolence to endless execration, no course could have been chosen more obvious. The liberty and indulgence given to the unfortunate prisoners seemed to bring them purposely within the circle of their old temptations. Many were led into scenes which act with fascinating power on men of criminal tendencies: they were often seen lingering for hours around the doors of houses for the sale of liquor. Amusements, which are always attended with some peril, were rendered more public and accessible. Dancing houses of the lowest kind were licensed, until their noise and confusion compelled their suppression. The regulation of night-passes became much less practically stringent. Everything facilitated the allurements and the commerce of crime. Receivers were always at hand, and robbers were tolerably insured when the first danger was over, by the rapid shipment of their spoil. Offenders, practised in the fraud of cities, were admitted into the towns, and placed in situations precisely calculated to recall their former habits, and excite their habitual passions. The puisne judge, in passing sentence on prisoners of this class, for new crimes, and holding up their police character in his hands, exclaimed—"Now, Mr. Attorney-general, I ask you what we may expect if such men as these are assigned in towns. Is it not surprising that I have to try such cases? It is shameful! It is shameful!" And such will be the opinion of mankind.

The chief expedients of Lord Stanley to relieve the colony from the redundancy of labor, and pressure on the treasury, were never applied. At the suggestion of Mr. Bishton, a clergyman of Westbury, Sir Eardley Wilmot recommended the leasing portions of land to well conducted ticket-holders. This was however strongly opposed on the spot, as tending to depreciate property, and inconsistent with the social circumstances of the country. The English allotment system was inapplicable: at home, it is a subsidiary to the general resources of the laborer, who can commonly find employment with the farmers, and easily dispose of the produce of his supplementary toil.