The prisoner comes to the office of the society, at 39, Charing Cross,

with the papers of his discharge, including one of the forms stating

that he is recommended by the governor of the prison which he has left.

This paper specifies his registered number in the prison, his name and

sentence, his age on conviction, religion and education, date and place

of conviction, nature of crime, previous convictions and nature of

crimes, character in separate confinements, character on public works,

trade and degree of proficiency, capacity for hard labour, the employment

desired, the prisoner’s willingness to emigrate, amount of gratuity

due, probable period of discharge, with any remarks which the governor

may think fit to add. The society disposes of its clients in three

ways—first, by obtaining employment for them; secondly, by enabling them

to return to their friends; and thirdly, by assisting them to emigrate.

The first case which came before the society was in May, 1857; in the

interval it has helped more than 1,900 prisoners. The secretaries believe

that, of the total number, not more than 100 have been re-convicted.

There are no positive data to establish this fact, but there are hopes

that hereafter it may be tested by direct record. With regard to the

men who are helped, they may be subdivided into two classes—those for

whom situations are found by the advice of the society; and those who

obtain work themselves, and are helped to procure tools or materials for

work. The women remain at a “Home” provided for them, and in most cases

enter as domestic servants. Where the society itself recommends its

client for employment, and gives him a character, his antecedents are

distinctly mentioned; but where he obtains work by his own independent

search, his circumstances are not disclosed. I have inspected the books

of the society, and have traced a considerable number of cases, both

of men and women. Out of the whole number, I have before me a list of

twenty-five, and I am able to say that they are not exceptional, but

may be paralleled by far more in the books for the current year. The

kinds of employment are as various as that indicated in the _London

Directory_. The men are engaged as bakers, milkmen, painters, builders,

cabinet-makers, commercial travellers, fishmongers, engineers, watermen,

hawkers, goldsmiths, &c. The cases to which I refer range over periods of

more than a year; some very few are a little less, some extend to three

or four years. A few men have been placed in independent business. In two

instances a business was purchased for a man, and in both those instances

the person assisted is going on well. In all these cases there is

complete information down to the latest date in the present year. In one

instance, a man who appears to have squandered a part of his gratuity,

came to the society at the eleventh hour in want of five shillings to

procure tools. There was something in the earnestness of the man which

attracted attention; on inquiry, his story proved to be correct; the

tools were furnished him, and he is now employed by a great building

firm. He learned the particular handicraft in which he is engaged, at

Portland. Another instance falls under my personal observation, and it

is interesting for special reasons. It is that of a young man who, since

his discharge, has obtained work under an old employer, to whom he told

all that had happened to him. By his discipline in prison, by acquiring

a consciousness of his powers as a workman, with an insight into the

opening offered through industry and energy, the man had evidently

surmounted the original sense of the degradation. When I met him,

accidentally, I observed no desire to parade himself, nor do I suppose

he would have preferred to see his departure from his late residence

announced in the _Court Circular_; but he did rather seek my notice,

no doubt as that of a witness to his working skill, his diligence, and

his substantial advancement; and he seemed to feel that the character

which he had acquired at Portland was a substantial testimony to his

capacity, industry, and resolution. The man is a very good specimen of a

sharp Englishman. I have met, of course quite casually, with one or two

instances of the same kind.

Another prisoner, assisted by the society, was discharged more than

three years and a half ago. He found employment for himself; but after

the society had assisted him, he came back to it for a character. He

was warned that, if it were given, his employer must be told of his

antecedents, but he still seemed to think the character necessary. The

person who was about to engage him, a tradesman in a considerable way of

business, called upon the secretary of the society. The instant he heard

that his servant had been a convict, he turned away, declaring that it

was useless to think of engaging him. The secretary stopped him, and

inquired the amount of risk which the employer would incur; it turned

out that the man would probably have 2_l._ or 3_l._ in his hands at a

time, and that a guarantee of 5_l._ would cover the risk. The secretary

undertook to guarantee that amount; and the man has remained in the

same place for considerably more than three years, with such thorough

satisfaction to his employer that that gentleman has spontaneously

released the society from its liability. This case also is peculiarly

interesting, as showing how the employing classes may be made to learn,

by their own inquiry and practical experience, that a fellow-creature who

is once a criminal needs not always be so.

Special arrangements are made for disposing of the women who leave the

Refuge at Fulham. This place, as well as other portions of our English

system, is pointed out as analogous to the “Intermediate” stage in

Ireland, but the analogy is very faint. I mentioned the half-pint of beer

allowed to the fourth class at Portland, as one amongst other indulgences

to compensate for the loss of transportation for prisoners convicted

between 1853 and 1857. Objections might be made to the dietary at Fulham,

as being on too high a scale; and it is wholly unlike the homely fare

which contents the hard-worked labourer at Lusk, or the penitent at

the Golden Bridge in Dublin. The Fulham Refuge is also distinguished

from the Intermediate prisons of Ireland by less liberty of action,

and by containing within itself places of punishment. Still, it is an

improvement on older prisons, and is not without _proportionate_ results.

From the 1st of January to the end of May, 1861, seventy-two women were

discharged from the Fulham Refuge, and were thus distributed:—Sent to

parents, eighteen; sent to husbands, seven; to other relatives, fifteen;

to friends, three; to service, direct from the Refuge, one; to the

Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society, with a view to service or emigration,

twenty-six; sent out on their own account, having no home, eight. The

reports of the first four classes are pronounced to be “satisfactory,”

with the exception of two in the first class and one in the second. Of

the first class three had no home, but had children in workhouses, whom

they went to rejoin. Three others have joined friends under anything but

hopeful circumstances. One is at service in the house of a clergyman;

and another, whose husband is a convict in Australia, is understood to

be “going on well.” When any woman is sent out from the Refuge, steps

are taken to ascertain where she will be received, and to secure her

safe arrival, with authenticated reports of the fact. Communication is

always made with the clergyman of the district to which the discharged

prisoner proceeds; and, says Mrs. Harpour, the lady superintendent of

the Refuge at Fulham, in a letter to Sir Joshua Jebb, “much is learned

in this mode of the sad and miserable way in which these poor creatures

have been brought up, and the temptations with which they were surrounded

immediately on their return to their deplorable haunts. It excites our

sympathy, and makes us feel that something must be done by the public,

or all our efforts cannot but be fruitless in many cases. I can only

hope and pray that the publicity which is now being given to the convict

system, will induce the Christian public to lend us a helping hand. We

do not ask for their money, but for their sympathy and a little of their

time.” I have statements of cases in which prisoners who have left the

Refuge have done well; but, in this as in other instances, I am cautioned

against their publication, lest exaggerated inferences should be drawn

from contracted data. And at the Refuge, as throughout the English

establishments, I have failed to obtain anything like the same full,

detailed, and long-continued information about convicts at large, which I

was enabled to obtain by my own personal examination in Ireland.

One grand resource for the disposal of English convicts, especially of

men whose term of incarceration may be shortened by “ticket-of-leave,”

is transportation. Theoretically, transportation is still continued

to Bermuda, Gibraltar, and Western Australia; but the transport of

convicts to Bermuda has been indefinitely suspended. Of the Australian

arrangements the most recent account is afforded me in an extract from

the unpublished Report to the Directors of Convict Prisons, by the

religious instructor, who sailed in the convict ship _Palmerston_, and

landed his charges at Fremantle in February.

“_Millbank Prison, May 27, 1861._

“... I visited the prison on the third or fourth day after

the men were landed. The chaplain and deputy superintendent

kindly accompanied me. It resembles Portland more than any

other I know. The cells are small in size, and the interior

arrangements on the same principle as at that prison.

“There were two large association rooms occupied, I believe,

at night by artisans whom I found employed in the smiths’

forge and carpenters’ shop, which are very extensive, and

where work on a large scale was being carried on under the

superintendence of the Royal Engineer department. Some large

rooms on the basement floor were fitted up as printing-offices,

and prisoners were employed here in doing all the Government

printing required for the colony.

“There were, I believe, about 400 men in the prison at this

time, including about eighty landed from the _Palmerston_.

These last were employed, some few in the workshops, and the

remainder on the roads, working in gangs.

“The rations were abundant, and of excellent quality; served,

precisely as they are at Millbank, to the men in their cells.

“On the general parade, I noticed that the reconvicted, or men

remitted to the establishment, and the men sent up for short

sentences from the police-office, were paraded apart, and

distinguished from the general prisoners by a different dress.

“Being desirous of seeing how the remainder of the men who had

come out under our charge in the _Palmerston_ were disposed

of, and how the probationary period of six months (through

which all convicts are required to pass before they can

receive the greater degree of freedom of a ticket-of-licence)

is passed through, I visited, in company with Dr. Watson, the

surgeon superintendent, four of the out-stations. We found all

these stations occupied by men who also had come out in the

_Palmerston_; and I was informed that, for some time previous

to the arrival of that ship, the road-making had been much

interrupted for want of men.

“The parties consisted of from 40 to 80 men, lodged in huts.

They were in charge of a warder; and in most places there was

one of the Royal Engineers to direct the works on the roads,

and two or three convict constables to preserve order and

superintend the men at work and in their quarters. The men work

on the roads from four to five miles each way, and, whenever I

saw them, appeared to be diligently employed.

“Their sleeping-places were divided by partitions of slanting

boards, and they took their meals in messes of six or eight

at separate tables; the rations being supplied from the

chief stations, Perth and Guildford, and the whole from the

Commissariat in the first instance. They are also allowed

tobacco.

“The men at these stations were cheerful and industrious; they

made no complaints, except in reference to the heat of the

climate and mosquitoes. Those within reach of the river were

permitted to bathe in it in the morning. The hours of labour

were from six to six—one hour, I believe, for breakfast, and

one and a half for dinner were allowed.

“However desirable it may be to execute works of this nature at

a distance from where a proper degree of control may be kept

up, I cannot but say that I felt anxious for the welfare of

the prisoners who, during their detention in these huts, would

be exposed to great temptation and demoralization. In fact,

these stations were, in every respect, inferior to the larger

and more regularly-arranged stations which I recollect to have

visited in Tasmania peninsula. It is also obvious that the

sooner the men who go out in a convict-ship can be separated,

after they are disembarked, the better for them in every way.

“The men at these stations appeared perfectly aware of the

uselessness of attempting escape in a colony which has no

known outlet to any other. In point of fact, were the attempt

made, their footsteps in the sand would be unerringly traced

by the extraordinary sagacity of the natives attached to each

police-station for the purpose; they would be captured, or

perish for want of water.

“I shall now endeavour to describe their prospects of

employment when liberated on a ticket-of-leave, from what came

under my own observation.

“A few men who were sent out in the _Palmerston_, having

completed a large portion of their sentence at home (two

of them with commuted sentence), were discharged from the

establishment in about eight days after their arrival. They

were supplied with a ticket-of-leave dress, a portion of their

gratuity, and a pass for twenty-four hours, to enable them to

seek employment. I travelled in the steamboat from Fremantle to

Perth on the day some of them left the prison....

“The social status of the sober and industrious convict settler

is perfectly assured. In the country districts no difference is

made between him and the free settler.

“I am, gentlemen,” &c. &c.

After reading only this brief, sober, and most authentic report, the

reader will begin to doubt whether transportation can be what it was

once supposed to be—a very terrible penalty, severance of natural ties,

death to family associations, and so forth. It has had its terrors, and

at more than one season, but the season has always been limited. In July,

1827, came into operation an Act extending transportation to various

felonious offences. In the following year there was a great decline in

such offences—the new Act had stricken terror; but in the very next year

the influence of the punishment had declined; by degrees transportation

ceased to be regarded with alarm, and now it is admitted to be a positive

reward. Writing years back, Archbishop Whately shows the dawn of this

feeling. He quotes the words of convicts, crying out with delight at

the accommodation on board ship; thanking God for having been carried

to a country where they were well off; writing home with presents to

masters whom they had robbed, and even offering patronage and assistance

in a country where a man is sure to make his fortune. The keen-sighted

teacher of logic foresaw that such dangerous knowledge must spread in the

mother-country.

If no longer available as a deterrent, is transportation a purely

beneficial auxiliary? Let us look into _that_ question. During the

present session of Parliament, Mr. Childers, the Member for Pontefract,

obtained a Select Committee “to inquire into the present system of

transportation, its utility, and effect upon colonization, and to report

whether any improvement could be effected therein.” The committee was,

upon the whole, well manned. Mr. Childers himself has a practical

knowledge of the subject, from his connection with Australia; and I

believe one purpose of the inquiry was to show that, in consideration

for the Australian colonies generally, transportation ought to be wholly

abandoned, even to Western Australia. The net result of the report is,

that the committee advises no interference, but delicately suggests that

transportation should continue as it is carried on now, under the actual

circumstances of the day. These circumstances are remarkable. It has been

resolved to suppress the convict prisons in Bermuda and Gibraltar. The

gross number of convicts in England, as well as in Ireland, appears to be

actually diminishing. The free colonies of Australia have passed laws for

preventing the admission of any licence-holder or expiree, under severe

penalties to be inflicted upon any ship-master who shall infringe the

local law. Some convicts have escaped from Western Australia, but not

in great numbers, and the alarm on the subject appears to have subsided,

though the feeling of repugnance is as strong as ever.

It comes out in evidence, that the Western Australians can employ a

certain amount of convict labour, but cannot employ much more than they

now have, at the present rate of annual supply. Many employers prefer

convicts, as more tractable than free labourers, and they are decidedly

pleased at the exclusion Acts of the free colonies. Mr. Burgess and

other witnesses declare that crime has not increased in proportion to

the number of convicts, a considerable proportion of the men having

behaved well; but they draw marked distinctions between a bad order of

convicts and a better order, strongly hinting that a careful selection

should be made; and I am disposed to believe that these hints will not be

lost upon the head office in Parliament Street. Several of the colonists

had desired the introduction of convicts, because they looked forward

to the official expenditure on account of the establishment, &c.; and

these speculators have been disappointed. They were particularly annoyed

because provisions for convicts were furnished from other colonies,

whereas they claimed a protective system of trade, as the correlative

of the convict burden. Amongst eastern colonists are many who formerly

approved of transportation, but they found “the character of the

convicts grow worse as the criminal laws of England were ameliorated and

softened.” A very curious lesson is brought out incidentally. “Formerly,”

says Mr. Hewitt, of Tasmania—the last colony in which convictism was

abolished, much to the chagrin of Governor Denison and the authorities

in England—“we got men sent to us for political offences, for poaching,

machine-breaking, and so on; and there was always a very large body of

convicts who prided themselves that they were not thieves and rogues; but

since the alteration of the laws in this country, it seems to me that

every man who comes out has committed some grave offence.”

On one point all appear to be agreed: that the old assignment system,

and _à fortiori_ any Norfolk Island system, which tends to mass

convicts together in bodies undiluted by the elements of ordinary

society, can never more be tolerated. Those who view the subject with

a practical knowledge, and yet without local predilections, believe

that transportation cannot be continued much longer, even to Western

Australia. I am well aware that the Irish as well as the English

authorities desire that that outlet should be retained, and I see

objections to any _sudden_ closing of it; but that it ought to be

abolished within a comparatively few years I am convinced. I have the

very highest authority for the avowal, that the crime, which irresistibly

impelled Sir William Molesworth’s Committee to pronounce the doom of

convictism in Australia generally, cannot be prevented or effectively

controlled in Western Australia, even now. One of the most experienced

officials, Mr. Thomas Frederick Elliot, of the Colonial Office, was

amongst those who stood against the abolition proceedings of 1837;

but “further observation,” he says, “has altered my opinion.” The

convicts who remained in Sydney and New South Wales have done harm.

Western Australia may profit from the expedient while the colony is

in a languishing state, but it can never be a substitute for ordinary

colonization. The relief is not “beneficial to this country”—“the

numbers sent out are too trifling to be of any account,” either to the

mother country or to the colony. “In every point of view I think that

transportation as a system has come to an end, and that its day is past.”

Before I proceed to close this series of papers with the conclusions

which have been forced upon me in my survey of the whole, in Ireland

and England, I must refer once more to the case set forth on behalf

of the English system. The fate of my last paper appears to have been

curious. In some quarters it has been regarded as too favourable to

the English system, while the chief conductors of that system think

that I have “not done them justice.” I am told that I have fallen into

many errors, and that the comparison which I have made between England

and Ireland is disparaging to England. In the most explicit terms that

could be employed I have invited correction of errors. I have avowed my

readiness to incorporate in this third paper any emendations with which

I can be supplied; my object being, not to advocate one system or to

disparage another, but simply to lay before your readers, as far as my

examination of the two systems and your space would permit, the facts

themselves. The communications upon the subject have been very numerous

and protracted. Throughout all, I have been met by Sir Joshua Jebb with

the most handsome consideration and a generous frankness. The result,

however, is that I have a lengthened statement, from his pen, going over

the ground from the time when “sound principles were laid down in 1842 by

the then Lord Stanley and Sir James Graham, for establishing probationary

periods of discipline at home, in order to the disposal of the convict

by transportation;” and this statement I now take bodily, with some very

slight curtailment.

“The difficulties which occurred at that time in Van Diemen’s

Land prevented the development of these principles, and led to

a modified arrangement under Earl Grey and Sir George Grey.

Under the system as it was then settled, from 1847 to 1853, a

printed notice was communicated to every convict, telling him

that the first period of probation would be passed in solitary

confinement for some time; and employment on the public works

for the second period; the third stage under a ticket-of-leave

in one of the colonies. The incentives to industry and good

conduct, during the two first periods, were very fully

explained in this document. They consisted of remissions of

the imprisonment, gratuities, badges marking the progress of

each individual, and other records, by which a man’s fate was

placed in his own hands, and was mainly dependent upon his own

exertions.

“In regard to the third period of probation, however,

with a ticket-of-leave, the following conditions were

promulgated:—‘The holder of a ticket-of-leave will be required

to remain within a certain district; he will not be released

from the custody of the Government until engaged to serve

an employer for twelve months; he will then be placed under

the supervision of the police, will be required to register

his place of abode, and periodically report himself to the

police,’ &c. Pentonville and Portland afford the fullest means

of judging of the system of discipline and the results of the

two periods which were to be enforced in this country. The

commissioners of the former prison, after anxiously watching

the moral effects of the great experiment conducted for five

years under their superintendence, thus recorded the conclusion

at which they had arrived, in a report dated in 1847:—‘We feel

warranted in expressing our firm conviction, that the moral

results of the discipline have been most encouraging, and

attended with a success which, we believe, is without parallel

in the history of penal discipline.’

“With respect to Portland, Captain Whitty, in his report for

1850, after stating his conviction that the system of following

up a period of separate confinement by associated labours, was

working well, states:—‘The subdued, improved, and disciplined

state in which the convicts generally arrive at Portland from

the stage of separate confinement, appears to be an admirable

preparation for their transfer to the greater degree of freedom

unavoidable on public works.’ Captain Knight, who succeeded

Captain Whitty as Governor, remarks in his report for 1851:—‘I

have frequently watched the working parties from positions in

which I could not have been seen by them, and I have seldom

seen a greater amount of willingness or industry displayed

by men whose livelihood depended upon their exertions.’ [I

myself was a witness of the same degree of cheerful industry,

in 1861.] It appears from the returns, that 400 men are at the

present time quarrying and loading from the great ditch of

the fortress about three tons a man, for which a contractor

had previously received 1_s._ 5_d._ a ton. The net saving to

the Government, after deducting 4_d._ for the cost of plant,

would give 3_s._ 3_d._ a day as the net earnings of each man

in the working parties; whilst the entire cost, exclusive of

buildings, will not exceed 1_s._ 9_d._ a head. Were it not

that a proportion of the convicts are detained at school,

and employed as cooks, tailors, &c., the prison would be

self-supporting; and had there been opportunity for the full

development of convict labour, at least one-half of the usual

cost of such works would have been saved.

“Though Portland is only known to the general public as a

place where an outbreak occurred some years ago; and though

the discipline has endured the rudest shocks from the changes

consequent on the cessation of transportation,—which not only

disappointed the expectations that had been held out to the

men, but entirely shook their confidence, and was the cause

of the outbreak referred to,—the establishment never was in

a much higher state of discipline and efficiency than at the

present time. The breakwater and fortifications, too, are

advancing towards completion, and already constitute a grand

and imperishable monument of what can be effected by convict

labour.

“From 1848 to 1853, during which time alone the established

system appears to have been in full operation, everything went

on swimmingly. It was ‘all right,’ in the English prisons of

Pentonville and Portland; and we have it on the authority of

Sir W. Denison, the Governor of Van Diemen’s Land, that in 1851

the convicts sent from public works were generally conducting

themselves as honestly and industriously as unconvicted

farm-servants in England. Every interest was then satisfied.

The mother-country annually got rid of some 3,000 of her

criminal population, and the colony obtained the advantage of

cheap labour. This was the culminating point of a sound and

carefully devised system of penal and reformatory discipline.

[Sir Joshua Jebb states, in one of his reports, that we never

may hope to see the like again. The last ship sailed in 1852;

and though he must have cast a lingering look after it, he

appears to have manfully set to work to repair the breach made

in the system of discipline.]

“An Act was passed in 1853, under the provisions of which a

large proportion of convicts might be sentenced to ‘penal

servitude,’ instead of transportation. It will not escape

notice that, during the whole period of a convict’s being

employed on public works, he is placed in a condition

intermediate between imprisonment and liberty. During this

portion of the sentence, as I described in a former article,

the men work in association; good order being preserved by

the presence of an officer with each party; and their return

from distant works in the open quarries at Portland, or from

dockyards or fortifications at Portsmouth or Chatham, being

insured by watchfulness of guards. With a view to afford

greater encouragement, it was considered desirable to divide

this probationary period into four progressive stages, to each

of which certain ameliorations and privileges were attached.

In the last stage, especially, a proportion of the men are

selected for ‘special service,’ in which they pursue their

several avocations, relieved from any direct supervision. At

Portland, they may be seen passing to and fro with tools,

attending points on the railways, &c.; at Dartmoor, they attend

cattle on the hills, and perform various farm operations,

independent of control. A large body of these men have also

been employed at Woking assisting in the completion of the new

prison, and others are to be sent to Broadmoor.

“We now come to the consideration of the third period of the

system, with a probation pass or a ticket-of-leave designed

for a distant colony, but now forced on our attention at home.

Here the range is limited to the few convicts who since 1852

have been sent to Western Australia, and the English system

in its entirety requires to be judged by the few openings

afforded in that colony. Here we see an intermediate system,

expressly designed to fit the man for colonial life and labour,

in full operation, on a plan suggested by Sir Joshua Jebb

in 1849. It is well known to any one who has experience of

convicts, that release from imprisonment will alone afford

any sure test of character; and it is to this test, in the

face of all the difficulties which had to be encountered, that

an appeal has necessarily been made. The system of granting

pardons, revocable on certain conditions, popularly known as

tickets-of-leave, has been adopted from the colonial stage, an

a precautionary measure; and the benevolent assistance of the

public has been sought in every way that has been possible.

On mature consideration, however, and on very sufficient

grounds, it has been deemed inexpedient to do more, either

in giving effect to the principle of the probation gangs,

or the supervision of police. There is scarcely an officer

in the convict service who does not strongly entertain this

conviction. [After alluding to the help afforded by the

chaplains and the Prisoners’ Aid Society, the statement

proceeds.] Thousands have been rescued from criminal courses

and tided over their greatest difficulties, by these most wise

and economical preventive measures.

“We now come to the results, which are given in the

accompanying comprehensive tabular returns. [The tables are

placed at the end of this article.]

“If the results be carefully consulted, it must be confessed

they have been more favourable than could have been

anticipated; for though twenty, or perhaps even twenty-five,

per cent., may have returned upon the hands of the Government

in seven or eight years, it is a fact that the number sentenced

has diminished from 3,311 in 1848, when the great majority were

transported to Van Diemen’s Land,[4] to an average, during the

last three years, of 2,226, when the great majority have been

released at home. Many causes must have combined to produce a

result so wholly subversive of all previous calculations;[5]

but a sound, deterrent, and, at the same time, an enlightened

and Christian discipline, steadily persevered in under the

authority of every Secretary of State since 1838, may fairly be

allowed to claim its share.

“In an admirable article which appeared in the _Times_ of

the 18th of April last, the writer has ‘hit the right nail

on the head.’ After a graphic description of desperate and

highly-skilled ruffians returning to their malpractices, after

confinement, with greater zest than ever, he states—‘These

constitute the ugly percentage of convicts with which nothing

can be done, the true blackamoors of the system who can never

be washed white.’ Here it is, and, perhaps, here only we fail.

“We find the following, in Sir Joshua Jebb’s report for

1849:—‘In connexion with the subject of modification of the

present system, I would submit the expediency of establishing

a more severe system of discipline, and of enforcing a more

protracted term of imprisonment, in the case of all men

convicted of heinous offences, especially such as were

accompanied by violence, and in certain cases. It is impossible

to state the precise operations of such measures, or the

extent to which they might be applied; but if the very worst

characters were imprisoned for the whole term of life, or

during their respective sentences, at some penal establishment

at home, or in the colonies, others disposed of by

tickets-of-leave in Western Australia, and the residue released

at home with conditional pardons, or encouraged to emigrate,

I believe that no sensible inconvenience could possibly be

experienced.’

“The foregoing is a brief sketch of the English system and

its results, deprived as it is of its mainstay, namely, a

satisfactory means of disposing of the convicts who are subject

to the two first probationary stages; and defective, as it

is admitted to be, in the means of dealing with the ‘true

blackamoors of the system.’”

This document is, as I have said, the statement of Sir Joshua Jebb, very

slightly curtailed to bring it within your space. I have abridged a small

portion of the retrospect at the commencement, and have shortened the

transitions here and there; and that is all the change. The writer has

not allowed himself to take the broadest view of the subject; which we

shall not quite understand, unless we glance at the chronic controversy

between the two systems of England and Ireland. In 1857, Sir Joshua

Jebb made a report professing to describe the Irish system, and stating

his own opinion upon it. I certainly could not adopt Sir Joshua Jebb’s

description of the arrangements in Ireland; nor can I entirely agree

with what he supposes to be the object of inquiry: namely, to ascertain

whether the probationary prisoners should be withdrawn from the higher

stages on public works, and congregated in the huts of the intermediate

stage; whether discharged prisoners could not be placed under the

supervision of the police, and whether employment could not be found

for prisoners released on licence as in Ireland. Sir Joshua meets these

questions in the negative, and I believe I am correct in stating his

conclusions thus:—

“Firstly. The character of the convicts in this country, and

the circumstances, differ so much from those of Ireland, that

any plan for congregating them together under less control than

is at present exercised, would not be calculated to render them

more fit for discharge, or give the officers to whose care they

might be consigned better, or even the same, opportunities of

judging their character as those which exist at present.

“Secondly. That even if such objects could be promoted by

removing selected convicts into separate, small, intermediate

establishments, with diminished control and more voluntary

action, the exhibition of convict discipline in such a form

would impair the exemplary character and deterrent effects of a

sentence of penal servitude, which, on all accounts, it is most

essential to preserve as the most formidable of our secondary

punishments.

“Thirdly. That any general superintendence of the police would

be impossible in England, without obstructing the employment of

the men.

“Fourthly. That if such measures could be systematically

organized, it would be very desirable to afford convicts

some special information or instruction in connection with

their future prospects during the last few months of their

confinement—not in separate, intermediate establishments

disconnected from the prisons, but in the stage of discipline

which precedes discharge.”

I have already said, that controversy in the subjunctive mood is totally

worthless. You can establish no logical conclusion except by a statement

of facts, which, like the figures in an arithmetical sum, render the

ultimate fact, the _x_ to be proven, a matter of moral certainty.

Undoubtedly there are great differences in the character of Englishmen

and of Irishmen, and, therefore, in the character of the convicts of

the two countries; but the points of resemblance between all civilized

communities are more numerous than the points of difference. This is

peculiarly the case with races under the same governments and laws; and

when we select a special class, formed by the aberrant tendencies of all

humanity, we increase the ratio of resemblance. The treatment of convicts

in the two countries might vary; we have no reason to assume that it

should be fundamentally opposed.

Secondly, there is reason to doubt whether the deterrent element ever has

much force in the operation of penal servitude, of imprisonment, or of

any penalty save those involving acute physical suffering for very short

periods. The deterrent effect is severe in the case of hanging, flogging,

torture, and the like. In the case of correctional discipline, the effect

seems to be produced, far more, by a sort of compulsory teaching. Through

the force of facts, the involuntary student is made to learn that a

dishonest line of conduct cannot be pursued, but must sooner or later be

frustrated; therefore that an honester course of life is unavoidable,

and the attempt to avoid it foolish. At one time transportation, was a

penalty accounted “secondary” to death alone; but I have already shown

you that in 1861 it is accounted an actual boon, an increase to the

opportunities and enjoyments of life. Indeed it is, literally, in this

auxiliary sense that transportation to Western Australia, which still

tolerates the practice, is now recommended. In England, as well as in

Ireland, it is claimed as usefully completing that round of correctional

discipline which ends in reformation—holding out a hope to the reformed

convict of employment in a sphere where he will have the reward of

industry without disgrace. But in Ireland, we see that as the criminal

advances through his course of penal servitude, the whole system is made

to have the character of correction, and to awaken the hope of betterment

through honest exertion.

Thirdly, the statement that the general superintendence of the police

would be impossible in England, without obstructing the employment of

the men or without converting the men into spies and tyrants, is thus

far a pure assumption. Not a shadow of evidence to establish it has been

shown to me. I know that policemen have interfered injuriously, but they

have not yet been instructed in a different line of conduct; and I also

know that there are, amongst the chief officers of the police in the

counties, those who are perfectly competent to study such a subject, and

who are prepared to begin the inquiry in a favourable spirit. But we must

also remember that the police do not represent the only class of public

servants who might be employed to act in this behalf, and report the

conduct of men out on licence.

The fourth objection applies, in some degree, to the English arrangement,

in which the teaching of trades is by no means systematic; for it is

principally confined to the earlier stages of imprisonment, while the

employment of the vast majority on public works sends them into the

world only as common labourers. In Ireland, the adaptation of the

instruction is much more individualized, and the Intermediate stages turn

out a much greater variety of callings.

A fifth objection on which the English authorities lay very great stress

is, that if the English convict be suffered to go at large, as he is at

Lusk, he will, perhaps in the very first hour of his freedom, run away

to rejoin his friends; particularly if he be a married man: nothing

will restrain him from decamping to rejoin his wife and family! “The

introduction of the Irish system into this country, the first element

being imperfect liberty granted to a man whose own act could make it

absolute in a moment, and would debar the married man from the society

of his wife and children, would do so much violence to every feeling

of his mind, that we could not be surprised if the slight barrier were

instantly broken which held him from the world. One of our most deserving

prisoners, lately discharged, of whose sincerity I have the highest

opinion, told me some months since that if 10,000_l._ were offered to

him to stay for twelve months, with nothing if he insisted on going to

his wife and children, then he would prefer the liberty to the money.”

So writes the chaplain of Portland Prison, in an unpublished report

forwarded to me, with his usual kindness and frankness, by Sir Joshua

Jebb; who also insists strongly on the same point.

Now, at several of the prisons I have been shown convicts who are

employed on “special service,” and whom I have confounded with the

more numerous body of prisoners working at large on Southsea Common.

This mistake is corrected by a friendly note from the Governor of

Portsmouth Prison. “The greater number of the men,” he says, “were

ordinary prisoners—in the ordinary stages, and still under the usual

surveillance.” The man I referred to, who wished to be transferred from

that spot, was not in the special class at all. “Had he been so,” writes

Captain Rose, “the privilege of change of labour would probably have been

accorded to him. He merely asked for a transfer of party—a very common

demand, and rarely founded on any sufficient reason. Another point in

which I wish to correct you, or I should rather say, to make myself more

clear than perhaps I did during our far too hurried interview, relates

to the adoption of an ‘Intermediate stage,’ from which it might be

inferred that I advocated the Irish system in its integrity (the word

being there employed). I was careful to guard myself against this; and

in saying that I would willingly enlarge the special class to one or two

hundred men, for the purpose of employing them on Portsdown Hill, without

prison dress, and merely attended by a few picked officers as general

superintendents (equally undistinguished by any distinctive dress), I

reserved the important question whether they should be there located

as in Ireland, or be still subjected to the ordinary routine of prison

discipline and restraint, going to and returning from their distant

labour daily by special train. The difference would be most important,

and, in fact, constitutes the point mainly at issue between Sir Joshua

Jebb and Captain Crofton. Should you write again, perhaps you will make

this more clear.”[6]

From these corrections with which I have been favoured, we gather two

things. First, that the special class are exempted from surveillance:

they are employed in carrying messages, and in other duties which send

them abroad into the world, like the trusted members of the Intermediate

class in Ireland. The application of the principle, indeed, is so

fractional, that all comparisons which I see attempted between it and the

Irish Intermediate system are untenable. But, secondly, the corrections

appear to me to show that in England there is no resistless impulse

to break through the moral restraint, and that in this respect the

Englishman is quite as amenable as the Irishman. I have never been told,

with regard either to Portsmouth or any other English prison, that they

limit this privilege to bachelors.

Another incident appears to me sufficient not only to corroborate my

doubt, but to annihilate the official presumption in England. Recently

there have been those very important extensions of the Convict Prison

at Woking, to which Sir Joshua Jebb alludes in the statement I have

embodied. The work was carried on, in part at least, by convicts from

another prison—from Portland, I believe. The men were not taken from

those on special service; they were not selected even from those

accustomed to labour out of bounds; they were, I have been told, “just

the ordinary prisoners.” I have not visited Woking, but I am also

informed that they were diligent at their work; and that there was no

escape, nor any serious attempt at escape, if any at all. The prisoners

were fifty in number; and, again, I was not told that they were all

selected from the unmarried class. It appears to me, therefore, that this

imputed family _storge_ is a myth.

I have bestowed great attention and pains on the endeavour to find out if

the leading objectors in the English system had actually made themselves

masters of the Irish system in its details, even so far as I have done

myself. I have sometimes feared that I pressed my questions upon them

further than was courteous; though I must confess that I have uniformly

been met with a frankness as candid as it was kind. I have not only found

that the study of the Irish system has been very partial, and that the

judgment against it has been formed on arguments in the subjunctive mood

and the most arbitrary assumptions, but I have also observed that even

with regard to the English system, there is not the same mastery of the

whole process in detail that I noticed in Ireland. For instance, I am not

aware that the leading authorities of the English system have personally

examined the working of the Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society, or have in

many instances personally traced the behaviour of discharged convicts out

in employment.

The investigation of the subject, in one respect, is neither easy nor

inviting. I have myself observed amongst discharged English prisoners

an unbecoming levity, mingled with a marked ill feeling towards the

prison authorities; and I am not satisfied that all the prisoners who

seek the aid of the society in Charing Cross, are conscious of the

obligations which they owe to it. I felt less pained at the exhibition

for the sake of the society and its officers, than for the sake of the

men who thus betrayed their total unfitness to guide themselves through

the world into which they were again thrown. My hearing is considerably

keener than most men’s, and probably the applicants for succour were

not aware that I could hear every word of the conversation which was

going forward between them in groups; but I did, and the whispered talk

related to plans of amusement, of social meetings, of sports by no means

elevating, and of gambling. I have forborne to ask the secretary whether

ingratitude is the rule, because no such questioning should be instituted

without an authority to compel which should absolve the respondent

from responsibility; but I believe that no investigation could be more

interesting than one into the conduct of prisoners whom the society has

relieved, and particularly into their bearing towards those who have

helped them. I doubt whether the authorities of our convict system have

examined into this part of the matter at all. It is impossible not to

make a comparison between the peculiar bearing of the English prisoners

and the entirely opposite demeanour of the prisoners in Ireland. The

manner there is more free, the men speak with less reserve, and they

look less “cowed,” but they are much graver; and, if they do not deal in

professions of gratitude, they permit you to see that the treatment that

they have received and the opportunities opened to them are taken very

much to heart.

The fact is, that the Discharged Prisoners’ Aid Society requires to be

placed on a much broader basis. In order that it should act with thorough

efficacy, it ought to be converted into a public department, with

authority to take cognizance of all prisoners leaving prison, to follow

up its information respecting discharged prisoners, and to dispose of

them with a freer choice than it can at present command. As I have before

remarked, there are several public organizations which might supply an

agency, but it is not for me to dictate any particular arrangement. In my

three reports on the convict systems, I have limited myself to a plain

statement of such facts as I was able to verify, and as I could group

into a summary of the general subject. Another change needed to render

the society efficient, and therefore secure of public support and of its

future position, is that the prisoners who seek its aid should be trained

to a greater variety of callings, so that no opportunities may be lost

through the over supply in one particular branch of industry or a want in

another branch. But, thirdly, and most chiefly, the discharged prisoners

who are candidates for the patronage of the society should come to it

in a condition of better moral training. They should have learned, not

simply the outward fashion of their behaviour, but the facts concerning

themselves which would suffice alone to prompt better feelings; and they

should have been more thoroughly taught, by the mode of discipline, to

appreciate the kindness so spontaneously extended to them.

The requirements which appear to me necessary for the complete efficiency

of the society, and, therefore, for its stability, imply two radical

changes in its position. The first is a more distinct legislative and

official recognition of it as a constituent part of the English convict

system. For either the society is surplusage, or it is an essential;

and if it is essential, it should be brought into a more universal and

co-ordinate working with the rest of the establishment. The second change

is, that the convicts should pass through something analogous to the

Intermediate stage of the Irish system.[7]

It seems to me quite time that the rivalry, displayed in the reports

on both sides of the Channel, should be absolutely and finally

discontinued. I must confess that the documents before me go to show

that the initiative of aggression was taken on the English side,—that

representations with regard to the working of the Irish system were put

forward with a high official authority on this side of the Channel, and

that they called for rectification from the other side; but it is idle

to enter into any retrospective award upon the merits of that obsolete

controversy. Our business is to take things as we find them _now_, and

to do the best we can both for England and for Ireland. I have already

said, that the Irish system appears to me to be the best; and I ascribe

its excellence to these three reasons—that, being the most recent

invention, it comprises the chief advantages of previous systems, with

new applications and extensions of tried principles admirably designed by

Captain Crofton; that it is planned upon a consideration of the objects

to be attained, irrespectively of difficulties or predilections; and that

it is carried out by men who are personally familiar with its details in

every part.

I am not prepared to say that all details of the arrangement in Ireland

are essential to the completeness of an equally good system in England;

but the principles upon which the Irish system relies are applicable

over the whole globe, and they are consequently drawing the attention

of the most intelligent and active criminal reformers in distant

countries. I know that their progress is watched from Heidelberg, which

has itself been a great centre of prison improvement, under that able

and enthusiastic lawyer, Professor Mitternaier. Among the reforms which

have been pushed forward by the immortal Cavour, is a system of convict

discipline established at Pianosa, a small island lying south of Elba.

Tuscany has always been celebrated for reforms of the kind; and it is

not losing its reputation in our own day. One of the distinguishing

traits in the Pianosa system is the introduction of the Intermediate

stage, which Cavour had thoroughly studied; and the Superintendent of

the Prisons, M. de Peri, reports with great satisfaction on the working

of the new plan. A little farther east, at Corfu, we see M. Cozziris,

the Inspector-general of the Prisons in the Ionian Islands, diligently

following out the same work. His report for the year, which is now before

me, shows a thorough acquaintance with the Intermediate system, and a

proportionate admiration of it.[8] While I was in the United States, I

had the opportunity of visiting some of those prisons which have often

been mentioned as examples of modern improvement, and such unquestionably

they were a few years back. It is no reproach to the intelligence of

the American reformers that, in great part by their help, we have since

surpassed them; and it must be allowed that they might have made more

progress than they have, but for that unlucky working of their government

system, which so periodically and thoroughly removes the higher officers

in all departments of the State. Amongst the leading managers of

these prisons, however, I found considerable interest excited by the

reference to the Irish system, and a ready disposition to enter into its

advantages; which have been the subject of a special explanation in the

_Philadelphia Journal of Prison Discipline_ for January of the present

year. In other countries, therefore, even more remote from Ireland than

England, there is no reluctance to study the newest experiment, and to

profit by its instruction.

I can well understand that there are difficulties in altering the

arrangements of any system; and our arrangements in England have been

particularly designed to suit a past state of circumstances, and to

attain particular objects. The leading objects were—the construction

of prisons so designed as to facilitate the ready inspection of large

numbers; the mustering of very numerous bodies of men upon public

works, which was thought to be an economical and beneficial employment

of convict labour; and the ultimate disposal of the convict by

transportation. Transportation has nearly ceased; we have arrived at the

perception that labouring on public works is not exclusively the best

discipline for all criminals; and we have learned that the best system

of our day attains its striking success by subdividing the prisoners

into small bodies and dealing with them in detail individually. A show

of transportation exists to tantalize the English officials, the system

of public works goes on with as much success as ever, and we have large

prisons on our hands; to say nothing of the fact, that the authors of

the living picture are naturally proud of the high development which has

been given to it. To get rid of these accessories of the system is the

greatest difficulty in any change, and I admit it in its fullest force.

Other difficulties have been alleged—the greater delicacy of the

Englishman who has been criminal in concealing his shame, and, therefore,

in shrinking from any Intermediate stage; his impatience, under the

enforcement of conditions, to the ticket-of-licence, and the indomitable

impetuosity which will make every married convict break bounds the

instant he is placed in a state of half freedom; the reluctance of

English employers to co-operate, and other special distinctions ascribed

to the English character. But, on closer scrutiny, the force of these

difficulties is refuted by facts which I have stated in the foregoing

pages. Indeed, I have found the raw materials for the Irish system

scattered throughout English prisons, only they are not turned to

account, and are not placed in their natural order. I have expressed

my readiness to put forward any facts to prove that the English system

attains results equal to those which exist in Ireland, but I have been

supplied with no such facts. What we claim in England, by all the

rights of urgent necessity, of national intelligence, and of national

resources, is the most perfect system of convict system that the world

can supply,—whether we call that system “Irish,” or, as I should prefer

to call it, British. The one step needed for the introduction of those

tried principles amongst us is, to institute a thorough inquiry; and,

undoubtedly, Parliament is bound to inquire, and, having inquired, to

deal with the ascertained facts. Until that be done, we English are left

with a system not so good as the one we might have; we are compelled to

suffer for more crime than would otherwise exist in the country; and

uneducated misguided multitudes are suffered to stray into destruction,

from which they might otherwise be rescued.

* * * * *

Subjoined are the tables mentioned at page 240. The following facts are

necessary to complete the information conveyed in the first table:—

No. 1.—9,180 orders of licence have been issued to the

directors for the release of male convicts from the different

convict prisons since the commencement of the system in

October, 1853, out of which 834 have had their licences

revoked and 1,038 have been reconvicted to penal servitude or

transportation, making a total of 1,872 who have forfeited

their licence; being an average percentage of 20.3, or an

average of 2.2 per annum, during the seven and a half years of

its operation.

No. 2.—9,180 orders of licence have been issued; out of which

number, 1,363, or 14.8 per cent., were returned to convict

prisons for larceny and light offences, and 509, or 5.5 per

cent., for offences of a graver character, in seven and a half

years; being 1.9 per cent. per annum of light offences, and 0.7

per cent. per annum of more serious crimes.

No. 3.—3,307 convicts have been transported to Western

Australia during the years 1853 to 1861; out of which, it may

be assumed from the reports received, that from 5 to 8 per

cent. only may have relapsed into crime. This, if taken into

account, would reduce the average results of the English system.

RETURN of the NUMBER of MALE CONVICTS released under ORDERS of LICENCE in

each Year, from October 1853, to April 1861; showing the NUMBER returned

to the CONVICT PRISONS, either by having had their LICENCES REVOKED

for trifling Offences, or by being sentenced to PENAL SERVITUDE or

TRANSPORTATION.

--------+--------+--------------------------------------------------

| | Number of MALE CONVICTS whose Licences have been

| | revoked, or who have been reconvicted.

| +---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+

Years. | No. | 1853. | 1854. | 1855. | 1856. | 1857. |

|Licensed+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

| | | | | | | | | | | |

| |Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|

| | | | | | | | | | | |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

| | | | | | | | | | | |

1853[9] | 335 | 1 | | 7 | 10 | 3 | 5 | 2 | 4 | 2 | 5 |

1854 | 1,895 | | | 14 | 19 | 63 | 53 | 38 | 64 | 19 | 33 |

1855 | 2,528 | | | | | 40 | 47 |126 |190 | 99 | 64 |

1856 | 2,007 | | | | | | | 49 |131 |122 |106 |

1857 | 674 | | | | | | | | | 15 | 34 |

1858 | 318 | | | | | | | | | | |

1859 | 260 | | | | | | | | | | |

1860 | 818 | | | | | | | | | | |

1861[10]| 345 | | | | | | | | | | |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

Totals | 9,180 | 1 | | 21 | 29 |106 |105 |215 |389 |257 |242 |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

---------------------------------------------------------+---------+----

Number of MALE CONVICTS whose Licences have been | Per |

revoked, or who have been reconvicted | Centage.| P

---------+---------+---------+---------+-----+-----+---- +----+----+ e

1858. | 1859. | 1860. | 1861. |Total|Total|Grand| | | r

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ Rev.| Rec.|Total| | | i

| | | | | | | | | | |Rev.|Rec.| o

Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.| | | | | | d

| | | | | | | | | | | | | .

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

| | | | | | | | | | | | |Y.M.

| | | | | | | | 15 | 24 | 39 | 4.5| 7.1|7 6

5 | 10 | 2 | 3 | 2 | | | | 143 | 182 | 325 | 7.5| 9.6|7 3

36 | 24 | 12 | 15 | 1 | 7 | | 1 | 314 | 348 | 662 |12.5|13.7|6 3

52 | 52 | 26 | 33 | 8 | 13 | | 2 | 257 | 337 | 594 |12.8|16.7|5 3

31 | 20 | 14 | 22 | 8 | 5 | 1 | 1 | 69 | 82 | 151 |10.2|12.1|4 3

7 | 10 | 12 | 12 | 6 | 4 | | | 25 | 26 | 51 | 7.8| 8.1|3 3

| | 5 | 4 | 3 | 10 | | 1 | 8 | 15 | 23 | 3.0| 6.1|2 3

| | | | 2 | 15 | | | 2 | 15 | 17 | 0.2| 1.8|1 3

| | | | | | 1 | 9 | 1 | 9 | 10 | 0.2| 2.6|0 3

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

131 |116 | 71 | 89 | 30 | 54 | 2 | 14 | 834 |1,038|1,872| 9.0|11.3|

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

The following shows the percentage per annum of Male Convicts returned

to Convict Prisons, either by revocation of licence, or under fresh

sentences, to Penal Servitude or Transportation, during the 7½ years the

system has been in operation:—

licensed Per ct. Yrs. Per ct.

Of the Number 335 from Oct.

to 31st Dec. 1853 11.6 or in 7½ 1.5 per ann.

” 1,895 in the year 1854 16.11 ” 7¼ 2.2 ”

” 2,528 ” 1855 26.2 ” 6¼ 4.1 ”

” 2,007 ” 1856 29.5 ” 5¼ 5.5 ”

” 674 ” 1857 22.3 ” 4¼ 5.1 ”

” 318 ” 1858 15.9 ” 3¼ 4.5 ”

” 200 ” 1859 9.1 ” 2¼ 4.0 ”

” 818 ” 1860 2.0 ” 1¼ 1.5 ”

” 34 to 31st March 1861 2.8 ” 3 mos. 0.12 ”

As regards the nature of the Crimes for which the 834 Male Convicts had

their licences only revoked, and the 1,038 who have been re-convicted for

fresh offences, the following is an analysis:—

MINOR OFFENCES.

Larceny 650

Offences against vagrant act 126

Assaults on police 34

Desertion 18

Picking pockets 27

Wilful damage 14

Assault 118

Offences against game laws 21

Theft, misdemeanour, and other offences 355

-----

Total 1,363

OFFENCES OF A GRAVER CHARACTER.

Murder 2

Forgery, uttering forged notes or base coin 44

Burglary 106

Robbery 41

Robbery with violence 16

Highway robbery 6

Cutting and wounding with intent 6

Felony, housebreaking, sheep-stealing, &c. 284

Arson 4

-----

Total 509

Minor offences 1,363

-----

Total 1,872

RETURN of the NUMBER of FEMALE CONVICTS released under ORDERS of LICENCE

in each Year, from October 1853, to June 1861; showing the NUMBER

returned to CONVICT PRISONS, either by having had their LICENCES REVOKED

for trifling Offences, or by being sentenced to PENAL SERVITUDE or

TRANSPORTATION.

--------+--------+--------------------------------------------------

| |Number of FEMALE CONVICTS whose Licences have been

| | revoked, or who have been reconvicted.

| +---------+---------+---------+---------+---------+

Years. | No. | 1853. | 1854. | 1855. | 1856. | 1857. |

|Licensed+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

| | | | | | | | | | | |

| |Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|

| | | | | | | | | | | |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

| | | | | | | | | | | |

1853[11]| — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — |

1854 | 40 | | | | | 1 | | 1 | 1 | | |

1855 | 115 | | | | | 2 | 1 | 10 | 7 | 5 | 2 |

1856 | 221 | | | | | | | 10 | 11 | 14 | 8 |

1857 | 55 | | | | | | | | | 5 | 3 |

1858 | 18 | | | | | | | | | | |

1859 | 29 | | | | | | | | | | |

1860 | 183 | | | | | | | | | | |

1861[12]| 103 | | | | | | | | | | |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

Totals | 764 | | | | | 3 | 1 | 21 | 19 | 24 | 13 |

--------+--------+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+

---------------------------------------------------------+---------+----

Number of FEMALE CONVICTS whose Licences have been | Per |

revoked, or who have been reconvicted | Centage.| P

---------+---------+---------+---------+-----+-----+---- +----+----+ e

1858. | 1859. | 1860. | 1861. |Total|Total|Grand| | | r

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+ Rev.| Rec.|Total| | | i

| | | | | | | | | | |Rev.|Rec.| o

Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.|Rev.|Rec.| | | | | | d

| | | | | | | | | | | | | .

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

| | | | | | | | | | | | |Y.M.

— | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | — | —| —| —

| | | | | | | | 2 | 1 | 3 | 5. | 1.5|7 8

1 | 3 | | 1 | | | | | 18 | 14 | 32 |14.7|12.1|6 5

7 | 9 | 2 | 1 | | 1 | | | 33 | 30 | 63 |14.9|13.5|5 5

1 | 1 | 1 | 1 | | 2 | | | 7 | 7 | 14 |12.7|12.7|4 5

| 1 | | | | 1 | | | | 2 | 2 | |11.1|3 5

| | 1 | | | 1 | | | 1 | 1 | 2 | 3.4| 3.4|2 5

| | | | 4 | 3 | | 5 | 4 | 8 | 12 | 2.1| 4.2|1 5

| | | | | | | 2 | | 2 | 2 | | 1.9|0 5

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

9 | 14 | 4 | 3 | 4 | 8 | | 7 | 65 | 65 | 130 | 8.5| 8.5|

----+----+----+----+----+----+----+----+-----+-----+-----+----+----+----

The following shows the percentage per annum of Female Convicts returned

to Convict Prisons, either by revocation of licence, or under fresh

sentences, to Penal Servitude or Transportation, during the seven years

and eight months the system has been in operation:—

licensed Per ct. Yrs. M. Per ct.

Of the No. 40 from Oct. 1853

to 31st Dec. 1854 6.5 or in 7 8 0.8 per ann.

” 115 in the year 1855 26.8 ” 6 5 4.0 ”

” 221 ” 1856 28.4 ” 5 5 5.2 ”

” 55 ” 1857 25.4 ” 4 5 5.9 ”

” 18 ” 1858 11.1 ” 3 5 3.2 ”

” 29 ” 1859 6.8 ” 2 5 3.3 ”

” 183 ” 1860 6.3 ” 1 5 4.4 ”

” 103 to 1st June 1861 1.9 ” 0 5 ”

As regards the nature of the Crimes for which the 65 Female Convicts had

their licences only revoked, and the 65 who have been re-convicted for

fresh offences, the following is an analysis:—

MINOR OFFENCES.

Larceny 72

Wilful damage 2

Breach of peace 3

Vagrancy 5

Theft 26

Disorderly conduct 4

Picking Pockets 4

----

Total 116

OFFENCES OF A GRAVER CHARACTER.

Uttering base coin 2

Unlawful possession 3

Horse-stealing 1

Robbery 2

Receiving stolen goods 1

Wounding 1

Housebreaking 4

----

Total 14

Minor offences 116

----

Total 130

FOOTNOTES

[4] In the years from 1841 to 1845, the average annual number of convicts

sent to Van Diemen’s Land was 3,527.

[5] One of the official calculations laid before the Government was, that

in the event of transportation being abolished, it would be necessary to

provide accommodation for 28,000 offenders, in addition to that which

then existed.

[6] There were two other clerical errors in the part of the paper

referring to Portsmouth. The thirty-three convicts were fulfilling

sentence not under the new, but under the old Act; and in lieu of

seventy-three under report for misconduct, it should have been

thirteen—an important difference.

[7] The annual report of the Directors of Convict Prisons for 1860,

published recently, more than confirms the report which I made to you,

and which was published in your April number. The excellent working

and progress of the Irish system continue with increasing force. The

Government prisons contain accommodation for 3,000 convicts; the

total number incarcerated in the first year of the new system, 1854,

exclusively of the 345 convicts in the county prisons, and several

hundreds in Bermuda or Gibraltar, was 3,933, and it has decreased, by a

steady progress, to 1,492. In 1861 the number convicted has decreased

from 710 to 331. This is the more remarkable, since the deportation

of convicts from Ireland ranged from 600 to 1,540 in the five years

preceding 1854. Out of 5,500 convicts discharged in the last seven

years, 1,462 were discharged on licence; 89 licences have been revoked,

amounting to seven per cent. “We do not,” say the Directors, “believe

a single case can be proved of a convict having been reported for

infringing the condition of his licence, and still remaining at large in

this country.”

[8] Statistica del Penitenziario di Corfu, per gli Anni 1857, 1858, 1859.

Compilata da Giovanni Cozziris, Governatore del Penitenziario di Corfu,

ed Inspettore Generale delle Prigioni dello Stato Ionio.

[9] From October to December 31st, 1853.

[10] To 31st March, 1861.

[11] From October, 1853.

[12] To June, 1861.

Roundabout Papers.—No. XV.

OGRES.

I daresay the reader has remarked that the upright and independent

vowel, which stands in the vowel-list between E and O, has formed the

subject of the main part of these essays. How does that vowel feel

this morning?—fresh, good-humoured, and lively? The Roundabout lines,

which fall from this pen, are correspondingly brisk and cheerful. Has

anything, on the contrary, disagreed with the vowel? Has its rest been

disturbed, or was yesterday’s dinner too good, or yesterday’s wine not

good enough? Under such circumstances, a darkling, misanthropic tinge, no

doubt, is cast upon the paper. The jokes, if attempted, are elaborate and

dreary. The bitter temper breaks out. That sneering manner is adopted,

which you know, and which exhibits itself so especially when the writer

is speaking about women. A moody carelessness comes over him. He sees

no good in any body or thing; and treats gentlemen, ladies, history,

and things in general, with a like gloomy flippancy. Agreed. When the

vowel in question is in that mood; if you like airy gaiety and tender

gushing benevolence—if you want to be satisfied with yourself and the

rest of your fellow-beings; I recommend you, my dear creature, to go

to some other shop in Cornhill, or turn to some other article. There

are moods in the mind of the vowel of which we are speaking, when it is

ill-conditioned and captious. Who always keeps good health, and good

humour? Do not philosophers grumble? Are not sages sometimes out of

temper? and do not angel-women go off in tantrums? To-day my mood is

dark. I scowl as I dip my pen in the inkstand.

Here is the day come round—for everything here is done with the utmost

regularity:—intellectual labour, seventeen hours; meals, thirty-two

minutes; exercise, a hundred and forty-eight minutes; conversation with

the family, chiefly literary, and about the housekeeping, one hour and

four minutes; sleep, three hours and fifteen minutes (at the end of the

month, when the Magazine is complete, I own I take eight minutes more);

and the rest for the toilette and the world. Well, I say, the _Roundabout

Paper Day_ being come, and the subject long since settled in my mind, an

excellent subject—a most telling, lively, and popular subject—I go to

breakfast determined to finish that meal in 9¾ minutes, as usual, and

then retire to my desk and work, when—oh, provoking!—here in the paper

is the very subject treated, on which I was going to write! Yesterday

another paper which I saw treated it—and of course, as I need not tell

you, spoiled it. Last Saturday, another paper had an article on the

subject; perhaps you may guess what it was—but I won’t tell you. Only

this is true, my favourite subject, which was about to make the best

paper we have had for a long time; my bird, my game that I was going to

shoot and serve up with such a delicate sauce, has been found by other

sportsmen; and pop, pop, pop, a half-dozen of guns have banged at it,

mangled it, and brought it down.

“And can’t you take some other text?” say you. All this is mighty well.

But if you have set your heart on a certain dish for dinner, be it cold

boiled veal, or what you will; and they bring you turtle and venison,

don’t you feel disappointed? During your walk you have been making up

your mind that that cold meat, with moderation and a pickle, will be a

very sufficient dinner: you have accustomed your thoughts to it; and

here, in place of it, is a turkey, surrounded by coarse sausages, or a

reeking pigeon-pie, or a fulsome roast-pig. I have known many a good and

kind man made furiously angry by such a _contretemps_. I have known him

lose his temper, call his wife and servants names, and a whole household

made miserable. If, then, as is notoriously the case, it is too dangerous

to baulk a man about his dinner, how much more about his article? I

came to my meal with an ogre-like appetite and gusto. Fee, faw, fum!

Wife, where is that tender little Princekin? Have you trussed him, and

did you stuff him nicely, and have you taken care to baste him and do

him, not too brown, as I told you? Quick! I am hungry! I begin to whet

my knife, to roll my eyes about, and roar and clap my huge chest like a

gorilla; and then my poor Ogrina has to tell me that the little princes

have all run away, whilst she was in the kitchen, making the paste to

bake them in! I pause in the description. I won’t condescend to report

the bad language, which you know must ensue, when an ogre, whose mind is

ill-regulated, and whose habits of self-indulgence are notorious, finds

himself disappointed of his greedy hopes. What treatment of his wife,

what abuse and brutal behaviour to his children, who, though ogrillons,

are children! My dears, you may fancy, and need not ask my delicate pen

to describe, the language and behaviour of a vulgar, coarse, greedy,

large man with an immense mouth and teeth, that are too frequently

employed in the gobbling and crunching of raw man’s meat.

And in this circuitous way you see I have reached my present

subject, which is, Ogres. You fancy they are dead or only fictitious

characters—mythical representatives of strength, cruelty, stupidity, and

lust for blood? Though they had seven-leagued boots, you remember all

sorts of little whipping-snapping Tom Thumbs used to elude and outrun

them. They were so stupid that they gave into the most shallow ambuscades

and artifices: witness that well-known ogre who, because Jack cut open

the hasty-pudding, instantly ripped open his own stupid waistcoat and

interior. They were cruel, brutal, disgusting with their sharpened teeth,

immense knives, and roaring voices: but they always ended by being

overcome by little Tom Thumbkins, or some other smart little champion.

Yes; that they were conquered in the end, there is no doubt. They plunged

headlong (and uttering the most frightful bad language) into some pit

where Jack came with his smart _couteau de chasse_ and whipped their

brutal heads off. They would be going to devour maidens,

“But ever when it seemed

Their need was at the sorest,

A knight, in armour bright,

Came riding through the forest.”

And, down after a combat, would go the brutal persecutor with a lance

through his midriff. Yes, I say, this is very true and well. But you

remember that round the ogre’s cave, the ground was covered, for hundreds

and hundreds of yards, _with the bones of the victims_ whom he had lured

into the castle. Many knights and maids came to him and perished under

his knife and teeth. Were dragons the same as ogres? Monsters dwelling

in caverns, whence they rushed, attired in plate armour, wielding pikes

and torches, and destroying stray passengers who passed by their lair?

Monsters, brutes, rapacious tyrants, ruffians, as they were, doubtless

they ended by being overcome. But, before they were destroyed, they did

a deal of mischief. The bones round their caves were countless. They had

sent many brave souls to Hades, before their own fled, howling, out of

their rascal carcasses, to the same place of gloom.

There is no greater mistake than to suppose that fairies, champions,

distressed damsels, and by consequence ogres have ceased to exist. It may

not be _ogreable_ to them (pardon the horrible pleasantry, but, as I am

writing in the solitude of my chamber, I am grinding my teeth—yelling,

roaring, and cursing—brandishing my scissors and paper-cutter, and, as

it were, have become an ogre). I say there is no greater mistake than

to suppose that ogres have ceased to exist. We all _know_ ogres. Their

caverns are round us, and about us. There are the castles of several

ogres within a mile of the spot where I write. I think some of them

suspect I am an ogre myself. I am not: but I know they are. I visit

them. I don’t mean to say that they take a cold roast prince out of the

cupboard, and have a cannibal feast before _me_. But I see the bones

lying about the roads to their houses, and in the areas and gardens.

Politeness, of course, prevents me from making any remarks; but I know

them well enough. One of the ways to know ’em is to watch the scared

looks of the ogres’ wives and children. They lead an awful life. They

are present at dreadful cruelties. In their excesses those ogres will

stab about, and kill not only strangers who happen to call in and ask a

night’s lodging, but they will outrage, murder, and chop up their own

kin. We all know ogres, I say, and have been in their dens often. It is

not necessary that ogres who ask you to dine should offer their guests

the _peculiar dish_ which they like. They cannot always get a Tom Thumb

family. They eat mutton and beef too; and I daresay even go out to tea,

and invite you to drink it. But I tell you there are numbers of them

going about in the world. And now you have my word for it, and this

little hint, it is quite curious what an interest society may be made to

have for you, by your determining to find out the ogres you meet there.

What does the man mean? says Mrs. Downright, to whom a joke is a very

grave thing. I mean, madam, that in the company assembled in your genteel

drawing-room, who bow here and there and smirk in white neckcloths,

you receive men who elbow through life successfully enough, but who

are ogres in private: men wicked, false, rapacious, flattering; cruel

hectors at home; smiling courtiers abroad; causing wives, children,

servants, parents, to tremble before them, and smiling and bowing as

they bid strangers welcome into their castles. I say, there are men

who have crunched the bones of victim after victim; in whose closets

lie skeletons picked frightfully clean. When these ogres come out into

the world, you don’t suppose they show their knives, and their great

teeth? A neat simple white neckcloth, a merry rather obsequious manner,

a cadaverous look, perhaps, now and again, and a rather dreadful grin;

but I know ogres very considerably respected: and when you hint to such

and such a man, “My dear sir, Mr. Sharpus, whom you appear to like, is,

I assure you, a most dreadful cannibal;” the gentleman cries, “Oh, psha,

nonsense! Daresay not so black as he is painted. Daresay not worse than

his neighbours.” We condone everything in this country—private treason,

falsehood, flattery, cruelty at home, roguery, and double dealing—What?

Do you mean to say in your acquaintance you don’t know ogres guilty of

countless crimes of fraud and force, and that knowing them you don’t

shake hands with them; dine with them at your table; and meet them at

their own? Depend upon it, in the time when there were real live ogres

in real caverns or castles, gobbling up real knights and virgins—when

they went into the world—the neighbouring market-town, let us say, or

earl’s castle; though their nature and reputation were pretty well known,

their notorious foibles were never alluded to. You would say, “What,

Blunderbore, my boy! How do you do? How well and fresh you look! What’s

the receipt you have for keeping so young and rosy?” And your wife would

softly ask after Mrs. Blunderbore and the dear children. Or it would

be, “My dear Humguffin! try that pork. It is home-bred, home-fed, and,

I promise you, tender. Tell me if you think it is as good as yours?

John, a glass of Burgundy to Colonel Humguffin!” You don’t suppose there

would be any unpleasant allusions to disagreeable home-reports regarding

Humguffin’s manner of furnishing his larder? I say we all of us know

ogres. We shake hands and dine with ogres. And if inconvenient moralists

tell us we are cowards for our pains, we turn round with a _tu quoque_,

or say that we don’t meddle with other folk’s affairs; that people are

much less black than they are painted, and so on. What? Won’t half the

county go to Ogreham Castle? Won’t some of the clergy say grace at

dinner? Won’t the mothers bring their daughters to dance with the young

Rawheads? And if Lady Ogreham happens to die—I won’t say to go the way of

all flesh, that is too revolting—I say if Ogreham is a widower, do you

aver, on your conscience and honour, that mothers will not be found to

offer their young girls to supply the lamented lady’s place? How stale

this misanthropy is! Something must have disagreed with this cynic. Yes,

my good woman. I daresay you would like to call another subject. Yes, my

fine fellow; ogre at home, supple as a dancing-master abroad, and shaking

in thy pumps, and wearing a horrible grin of sham gaiety to conceal thy

terror, lest I should point thee out:—thou art prosperous and honoured,

art thou? I say thou hast been a tyrant and a robber. Thou hast plundered

the poor. Thou hast bullied the weak. Thou hast laid violent hands on

the goods of the innocent and confiding. Thou hast made a prey of the

meek and gentle who asked for thy protection. Thou hast been hard to thy

kinsfolk, and cruel to thy family. Go, monster! Ah, when shall little

Jack come and drill daylight through thy wicked cannibal carcass? I see

the ogre pass on, bowing right and left to the company; and he gives a

dreadful sidelong glance of suspicion as he is talking to my lord bishop

in the corner there.

Ogres in our days need not be giants at all. In former times, and in

children’s books, where it is necessary to paint your moral in such large

letters that there can be no mistake about it, ogres are made with that

enormous mouth and _ratelier_ which you know of, and with which they

can swallow down a baby, almost without using that great knife which

they always carry. They are too cunning now-a-days. They go about in

society, slim, small, quietly dressed, and showing no especially great

appetite. In my own young days there used to be play ogres—men who would

devour a young fellow in one sitting, and leave him without a bit of

flesh on his bones. They were quiet gentlemanlike-looking people. They

got the young fellow into their cave. Champagne, paté de foie-gras, and

numberless good things were handed about; and then, having eaten, the

young man was devoured in his turn. I believe these card and dice ogres

have died away almost as entirely as the hasty-pudding giants whom Tom

Thumb overcame. Now, there are ogres in City courts who lure you into

their dens. About our Cornish mines I am told there are many most

plausible ogres, who tempt you into their caverns and pick your bones

there. In a certain newspaper there used to be lately a whole column

of advertisements from ogres who would put on the most plausible, nay,

piteous appearance, in order to inveigle their victims. You would read,

“A tradesman, established for seventy years in the City, and known, and

much respected by Messrs. N. M. Rothschild and Baring Brothers, has

pressing need for three pounds until next Saturday. He can give security

for half a million, and forty thousand pounds will be given for the use

of the loan,” and so on; or, “An influential body of capitalists are

about to establish a company, of which the business will be enormous and

the profits proportionately prodigious. They will require A SECRETARY,

of good address and appearance, at a salary of two thousand per annum.

He need not be able to write, but address and manners are absolutely

necessary. As a mark of confidence in the company, he will have to

deposit,” &c.; or, “A young widow (of pleasing manners and appearance)

who has a pressing necessity for four pounds ten for three weeks, offers

her Erard’s grand piano valued at three hundred guineas; a diamond cross

of eight hundred pounds; and board and lodging in her elegant villa

near Banbury Cross, with the best references and society, in return for

the loan.” I suspect these people are ogres. There are ogres and ogres.

Polyphemus was a great, tall, one-eyed, notorious ogre, fetching his

victims out of a hole, and gobbling them one after another. There could

be no mistake about _him_. But so were the Syrens ogres—pretty blue-eyed

things, peeping at you coaxingly from out of the water, and singing their

melodious wheedles. And the bones round their caves were more numerous

than the ribs, skulls, and thigh-bones round the cavern of hulking

Polypheme.

To the castle-gates of some of these monsters up rides the dapper

champion of the pen; puffs boldly upon the horn which hangs by the chain;

enters the hall resolutely, and challenges the big tyrant sulking within.

We defy him to combat, the enormous roaring ruffian! We give him a

meeting on the green plain before his castle. Green? No wonder it should

be green: it is manured with human bones. After a few graceful wheels and

curvets, we take our ground. We stoop over our saddle. ’Tis but to kiss

the locket of our lady-love’s hair. And now the vizor is up: the lance is

in rest (Gillott’s iron is the point for me). A touch of the spur in the

gallant sides of Pegasus, and we gallop at the great brute.

“Cut off his ugly head, Flibbertygibbet, my squire!” And who are these

who pour out of the castle? the imprisoned maidens, the maltreated

widows, the poor old hoary grandfathers, who have been locked up in the

dungeons these scores and scores of years, writhing under the tyranny

of that ruffian! Ah! ye knights of the pen! May honour be your shield

and truth tip your lances! Be gentle to all gentle people. Be modest to

women. Be tender to children. And as for the Ogre Humbug, out sword, and

have at him.