CHAPTER IX.

Law Reform--The Penal Code of England--Its Barbarity--The

Death-Penalty--Sir Samuel Romilly--His Efforts to Abolish Capital

Punishment--His Talents and Character.

The earliest mouth piece of Jeremy Bentham in Parliament, and his

"middleman" with the public, was Sir SAMUEL ROMILLY. This accomplished

lawyer, from the period he entered Parliament, in 1806, till his death,

in 1818, directed his main efforts to Law Reform; especially the

amelioration of the Penal Code, and the diminution of the number of

capital offenses.

The present criminal code of England is a disgrace to civilization. When

Romilly commenced his labors, it would have disgraced barbarism.

Blackstone had said in his Commentaries, (and it was substantially true

in 1806,) "Among the variety of actions which men are liable daily to

commit, no less than one hundred and sixty are declared by act of

Parliament to be felonies, without benefit of clergy; or, in other

words, to be worthy of instant death." I will specify a few items in

this bloody catalogue. Treason, murder, arson, and rape, were of course

capital crimes. So was counterfeiting coin; refusing to take the oath of

allegiance under various circumstances; falsifying judicial records;

taking a reward for restoring stolen goods, when accessory with the

thief; obstructing the service of legal process; hunting in the night

disguised; writing threatening letters, to extort money; pulling down

turnpike gates; assembling to produce riots, and not dispersing at the

order of a magistrate; transporting wool or sheep twice out of the

kingdom; smuggling; fraudulent bankruptcies; marrying a couple except in

"a church," without the license of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and

making false entries in relation thereto in a marriage register;

wandering as gipsies thirty days; burglary, in the night; stealing, from

the person, property above the value of twelve pence, or, from a

dwelling-house, above five shillings, or a vessel above forty shillings;

stealing fish, hares, and conies; robbing on the highway to the value of

a farthing; forgery in all its multiplied forms; sundry mere trespasses

to personal property, such as tearing down fences, opening fish-ponds,

destroying trees in parks and gardens, maiming cattle--and the list

might be swelled through a chapter.

The legal mode of inflicting punishment, in many of these cases, was

equally barbarous with the penalties. Not content with killing the

wretch, he might be dragged to the place of execution at the heels of

horses; or emboweled while alive; or burnt to death; or beheaded,

quartered, and the parts nailed up in conspicuous places; or his

skeleton left to rot on the gallows; or his hands and ears cut off, and

his nostrils slit; or be branded on the cheek or hand, before execution.

And down to the reign of William III, counsel were not allowed to

prisoners, even in cases of high treason, when the whole power of the

Government was brought to crush them; and it was not till the recent

reign of William IV, that, in other capital cases, counsel for the

accused were allowed to do more than state points of law to the court.

Such a Penal Code would disgrace the Fejee Islands. Yet, it was, in its

main features, the law of England in 1806; and, notwithstanding the

lucubrations of Bentham, the dashing essays of Brougham, and the lucid

speeches of Romilly and Mackintosh, sustained by the protests and the

petitions of churchmen and dissenters, Catholics and Quakers, it

remained the law, with slight modifications, till the reign of George

IV; and much of it is law to this day! And this code could be eulogized

by the classical Blackstone; whilst Paley, the archdeacon, could

congratulate the readers of his Moral Philosophy on the fact, that

torture to extort confessions had been excluded "from the mild and

cautious system of penal jurisprudence established in this country!"

Such mildness _is_ a "caution!" The same author, alluding to those who

might happen to be convicted and hung through mistake, counsels their

surviving friends not to repine, but "rather to reflect that he who

falls by a mistaken sentence, may be considered as falling for his

country."

No one will suppose that such laws, the offspring of the dark ages,

could be enforced against all offenders after the sunrise of the

nineteenth century. Still, capital convictions under them were

frightfully numerous. The statistics of English criminal jurisprudence

afford abundant illustrations of the doctrines, that the severity of the

law does not diminish crime, and that the certainty rather than the

severity of punishment is the surest preventive. These doctrines had

been maintained with great power by Lord Bacon, by Stiernhook, the

Swedish Blackstone, by Blackstone himself, by the Marquis of Beccaria,

by Voltaire, by Montesquieu, by Bentham; and even Paley had admitted

their truth. Romilly enforced them in Parliament; and it may be safely

affirmed, that the history of crime proves nothing if it does not

establish their truth. Larcenies, burglaries, robberies, and forgeries,

had increased in England during the eighteenth century, much beyond the

advance of population and commerce, notwithstanding the severity of the

law and its frequent execution. But these obvious facts were assigned to

other causes than defects in the penal code, and these doctrines were

scouted as the dogmas of visionary enthusiasts, by nearly the whole of

the bench, the bar, and the leading influences in Church and State, at

the dawn of the present century. They admitted that the unvarying

execution of the law would be barbarous; but insisted that its

frightful penalties ought to be suspended over the heads of offenders,

to deter from crime; whilst they trusted to indirect modes of softening

its rigors. So, judges undertook to bend the law to suit the merits of

particular cases; and the humanity of juries, outrunning the injunctions

of their oaths, opened the door of escape in cases of peculiar severity.

The latter would frequently find that the value of the property stolen

did not reach the capital point; as, that a shilling piece was worth but

eleven pence farthing; or a crown, but four shillings and sixpence; or

goods for which the thief had asked L8, and refused L6, were worth but

thirty-nine shillings; thus stultifying their senses to save a life

which the law clamored to sacrifice.

Another evil resulting from the severity of the English code, was felt,

not only in that country, but has reached us and our times, and will

afflict us so long as we are governed by the common law. Merciful

judges, during the trial of offenders for minor crimes punishable with

death, would lend a greedy ear to the ingenious cavils and absurd quirks

of counsel, and quash the indictment--or refine away the plain words of

a statute, so as to exclude the offense from its operation--anything to

save the life of a fellow-creature whose crime deserved a ten days'

commitment to the House of Correction. And we are now reaping the fruits

of this; for, be it known to the uninitiated, that all these cavils,

refinings, quibbles, quirks, and quiddities, are recorded in books, and

have come down to us as authoritative parts of "the perfection of human

reason," making convenient holes for sturdy rogues, with the help of

sharp-pointed lawyers, to creep through the meshes of our comparatively

mild criminal code.

Sir SAMUEL ROMILLY found the penal law of England thus sanguinary on the

statute book; thus abused in its administration by the courts; thus

entrenched behind the authority of judges, lawyers, statesmen, and

divines, when he commenced the humane but apparently hopeless task of

softening its penalties to the milder civilization of the present age.

He brought to this work professional eminence the most exalted, talents

of the rarest order, learning varied and accurate, eloquence captivating

and powerful, and a zeal and courage surpassed only by the benevolent

warmth of his heart. Having previously secured some reforms in the civil

law, he carried a bill, in 1808, repealing the capital part of the act

against stealing property of above twelve-pence value. This horrid law

had existed more than a thousand years, and probably in a thousand cases

in which it had been executed, the hangman's rope cost more than the

stolen property for which a life was forfeited. Even then Romilly could

induce the legislature to fix the death-limit no higher than L15. This

and another repealing act had slipped through Parliament in a very quiet

way, without exciting the attention of the country. In 1809, Romilly

proposed two bills, repealing the laws making it capital to steal to the

value of above five shillings from a shop, or forty from a

dwelling-house. He sustained them by a speech, which exhibited great

research into the statistics of crime, comprehensive views of the

philosophy of rewards and punishments, lofty appeals to humanity, and a

just appreciation of the benevolent and liberal tendencies of the times.

Both bills failed. But the friends of the halter had become alarmed at

these reiterated attempts to restrict the death-penalty. The

gallows-toad, touched by the spear of Ithuriel, started up a devil. It

was the first time the mask had been torn from the penal code of

England, and its visage, grim and bloody, exposed to the public eye. The

excitement caused by this attempt to narrow the scaffold is at this day

incredible. The chancellor in his robes, and the bishop in his lawn; the

barrister in his silk gown, and the attorney in his threadbare coat; the

reviewer in the aristocratic quarterly, and the obscure pamphleteer in

Grub street; all entered the lists to crush the disciple of Jeremy

Bentham, and demolish his dangerous heresies. If Romilly had attacked

the monarchy itself, or declared that the horse-hair wig of the

Archbishop of Canterbury was not a part of the British Constitution, he

could hardly have produced more indignation among judges and hangmen;

more consternation among the old women of both sexes. Jack Ketch was no

longer to hang men for stealing a cast-off coat or petticoat worth five

shillings and six pence, and what would become of England! Sir Samuel

published a pamphlet containing the substance of his great speech, with

additional statistics, which Brougham made the basis of an able essay in

the Edinburgh. The pamphlet and the essay produced a profound impression

upon liberal and humane minds throughout the country.

But, for two years, he was able to accomplish nothing in Parliament. In

1811, he took advantage of some favoring circumstances to carry a law

abolishing capital punishment in the cases of soldiers and sailors found

begging, without having testimonials of their discharge from the

service. Grateful country; to consent not to hang a sailor, who lost his

arm at Trafalgar, or a wooden-legged soldier who stormed Badajos, for

begging a loaf of bread! Through the seven following years, though

Romilly and his coadjutors thundered on the floor of the Commons, and

lightened from the pages of the Edinburgh, and rained down pamphlets

upon the country, charged with appalling facts, unanswerable arguments,

and glowing appeals to the heart of the nation, they fell on the

iron-mail of the Tory party only to rebound in their own faces; and this

great man having bequeathed the prosecution of the work to Mackintosh,

sunk into his grave, in 1818, without seeing one lineament of relenting

in the grim visage of the Penal Code.

But, not alone to reforms in the criminal code did this excellent man

give his hand. He probed the Court of Chancery, and hove up to the sun

some of the abuses which festered under the stagnant administration of

Eldon--exposed the huge masses of rubbish which so blocked up the common

law courts, that the difficulty of suitors to get in was only surpassed

by the impossibility of their getting out; and though the reforms which

he proposed were very moderate, and aimed only at glaring defects, they

encountered the same bigoted attachment to ancient abuses which assailed

him in the other field of his exertions. Lord Eldon especially construed

every insinuation that the system of Equity was not perfect, into a

personal attack on its head. He regarded a peep into his court as Jack

Ketch did a side-glance at the gallows, and repelled every insinuation

that he was not competent to do for men's property what Jack did for

their lives--suspend animation by stopping the circulation.

Nor was it law reform alone which enlisted the sympathies of Romilly. As

Solicitor General he brought in the bill for the abolition of the slave

trade, in 1806-7; and in 1814, when the European treaty of Peace,

negotiated by Castlereagh on the part of England, and which provided for

the revival of the traffic by France, came before Parliament, he led the

friends of humanity to the attack upon that article of it in a speech of

the loftiest rebuke, breathing the purest philanthropy and attired in

the richest garb of eloquence. His eulogium on Wilberforce and Clarkson

was beautiful, and his appeal to the former, as he turned and addressed

him personally, thrilling.

Romilly's mind was cast in the rarest mold, and his heart was attuned to

the liveliest emotions. He could master the understanding with his

reason, and sway the will by his persuasion. He frowned down meanness

with the dignity of a judge sentencing a culprit, and his sarcasm was

too keen to be often provoked. Standing at the head of the Equity bar,

his professional attainments covered the widest field, and were only

equaled by the extensive practice to which they were applied. His

character was beautifully pure, and he was the delight, almost the idol,

of his intimate friends. Yet, his modesty always held him back from

assuming in the courts and the Commons the place that was assigned to

him by the universal homage of his party, and the all but unanimous

verdict of his opponents.

Romilly was the grandson of a French mechanic, who, with his wife, fled

to England, on the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. His father married

the daughter of a refugee, and Samuel was, therefore, of pure French

blood. He was born in 1757. His father, who was a watchmaker, articled

him to a commercial house, the death of whose head soon threw him back

into his father's shop, where he kept the books for two or three years.

During this time, he marked out for himself, and pursued with avidity

and success, a course of classical study. Leaving the shop, he entered

as an apprentice the office of one of the clerks in chancery, and for

several years devoted all the leisure hours he could snatch from the

drudgery of business, to the cultivation of general literature. Arriving

at his majority, he studied law, and was called to the bar at the age of

twenty-five--an admirable specimen of "a self-made man"--the only sort

of MAN, by the bye, that is made. The following anecdote shows how his

sensitive mind was, in mere childhood, bent toward the work which

engrossed his mature years. He says: "A dreadful impression was made on

me by relations of murders and acts of cruelty. The prints which I found

in the Lives of the Martyrs, and the Newgate Calendar, have cost me many

sleepless nights. My dreams, too, were disturbed by the hideous images

which haunted my imagination by day. I thought myself present at

executions, murders, and scenes of blood; and I have often lain in bed,

agitated by my terrors, equally afraid of remaining awake in the dark,

and of falling asleep to encounter the horrors of my dreams. Often have

I, in my evening prayers to God, besought him, with the utmost fervor,

to suffer me to pass the night undisturbed by horrid dreams." And it may

be that these childish terrors had something to do with his painfully

tragic fall. The death of a wife to whom he was fondly attached, and

over whose bed he had watched with agonizing solicitude, threw him into

a paroxysm of insanity, and he terminated with his own hand a life which

England could not afford to lose. He was proud to acknowledge himself

the disciple, in law reform, of Jeremy Bentham, and the friendship

between him and Henry Brougham was as strong as the cords of a brotherly

affection.

Sketches of Reforms and Reformers, of Great Britain and Ireland · 第 9 / 36 章