The treatment and disposal of mechanics, craftsmen, and the educated, or
"specials," disturbed the equal operation of the laws.
The artizan, when not adapted for public works, was placed in the loan
gang, and lent from time to time, chiefly to the officers of government,
or to such settlers as were deemed worthy official patronage. They were
not authorised to claim wages, but their employers prompted their
industry by its usual recompense. Their value as workmen often secured
them an appearance which surpassed the common means of English
artificers, or they expended their earnings during paroxysms of
intemperance. The power to grant the assistance of skilled workmen, and
the custom of the officers to borrow them for their own service, excited
unceasing murmurs. Master tradesmen complained, that their callings were
followed by captains and lieutenants, whose journeymen were the
prisoners of the crown, and who, beside the emoluments of office,
engrossed the profits of smiths and carpenters--of tailors and
shoemakers. Those settlers, excluded from participation in the _loan_
labor, denounced the venal partiality of its distribution. Long lists
were published of workmen allotted to the relatives and confidants of
the Governor, to display his unwearied nepotism.
The educated prisoners occasioned still greater complaint. At an early
period, many of the higher functionaries were utterly ignorant of
accounts, and were glad to employ the abilities which transportation
placed at their disposal. Curious anecdotes are told of the profits
derived by this class of scribes, by the distribution of royal clemency:
thus the indents were altered by a clerk, who charged L10 for reducing
considerably the duration of a sentence.[201] At a later date, a
prisoner offered by letter L15 for his conditional pardon. The bearer
gave information of its contents to another convict in office, who
offered to obtain the "royal mercy" for L10, and he did so.[202] The
reliance frequently placed in the fidelity of their penmanship,
sometimes modified the details of punishment.
From the report of a board appointed by Arthur, it appeared that
sixty-six were employed in the various departments. The evidence is
valuable, from the statements it contains respecting the condition and
influence of this class. They were represented to be quick, intelligent
men, and were preferred because more easily commanded--if not
controlled. Their office hours usually terminating at 4 o'clock, they
obtained considerable sums as book-keepers. All correspondence, except
despatches to the British government, and communications with the
judges, passed under their eye. They were employed in taking
depositions, and received bribes for expediting indulgences. Their
acquaintance with the probable demands of the commissariat, was a source
of emolument: they sold information to the shopkeepers, and thus
enhanced the price. Arthur professed to deplore the necessity of their
employment; a practice which long survived his government.
It was, indeed, a mournful sight, to behold men of better hopes sink
into habits of intemperance; and for a long series of years pass through
a succession of punishments, often for trifling infractions of the penal
code--to see them display the utmost facility in penmanship, and to hear
at every movement the rattle of chains. Yet these prodigal sons of many
a desolated house, were not so much objects of compassion, as those
whose peace they had blighted with an incurable affliction. No one could
imagine how many families, distinguished for rank, benevolence, and
piety--known at home as the fortunate and happy--had in these regions
unhappy relations, whose fate must have cast dark shadows on their own.
Many, however, protected their kindred from public dishonor by the
change of their names: they not unfrequently were overtaken by crime and
punishment, having long left the dwellings of their fathers, whose
reputation they spared by artifice and silence.
The wives of prisoners, who once moved in the higher circles, often
exhibited an example of complicated virtue. What they took from the
misery of their husbands they added to their own; and even by their
participation rendered more intense the mental anguish they came to
remove. Delicately reared, familiar with the comforts of affluence, they
resolutely abandoned all. No entreaty, maternal tears, or offers of
support, could change the purpose of conscience and affection. They
gathered up the fragments of their shivered fortunes to venture on a
lonely voyage, and encounter a rough courtesy--generous, when not
brutal; to solicit commiseration from the harsh delegates of a nation's
vengeance, or the hucksters of its mercy. Sad lot! fraught with anguish,
with terror, and trembling: every moment passed in fear of some new
fetter--of some fresh official caprice, or sudden separation! Such
scenes of mental and physical martyrdom have been often known to
professional men, who enter the interior of life, and watch the
operations of secret sorrow. The mould of Tasmania covers many a
true-hearted woman, whose constancy and self devotion are registered on
high; and which, in another sphere, might command the admiration of the
world!
The colonial government interdicted the connection of prisoners with the
press, which, however, was not prevented or punished, when loyal to the
authorities. Their writings were commonly laudatory of the officials,
even when most offensive to the colonists. They were not always the most
trucculent and unprincipled; although the censorship of public morals
and political measures was unsuited to their civil condition.
Among those thus employed was Savary, once an opulent sugar baker at
Bristol, who in 1824 was convicted of forgery, and his life spared by an
exercise of mercy then novel. Happier far, had he died! He wrote for
the press--on the right side. On the accusation of a colonist, his
ticket-of-leave was withdrawn; but he was spared the usual penalty of
banishment by the kindness of his patrons, who granted him another form
of liberty. This man was followed by his wife; but on her arrival, her
affection was seduced, or exhausted, and she returned to England. Savary
attempted suicide, recovered, and again fell into crime: he was tried by
Judge Montague, convicted of a colonial forgery, and afterwards died at
Port Arthur--an awful instance of the effects of transgression; and of
the proneness of men to repeat a crime they have once committed.[203]
It having been resolved to abandon Macquarie Harbour (1832), the
government fixed on Port Arthur, on the east coast, as the site of a
settlement where the rigour of discipline might be preserved. This
district is situated on a peninsula within a peninsula, and contains
about 100,000 acres of woodland--barren, but not repulsive. A neck of
450 yards broad, divides Tasman's and Forrestier's Peninsulas: there
lamps are set on posts, to which fierce dogs are chained; and to close
the passage by the shore, when opened by the recession of the tide,
others are kennelled on a floating platform. Sentinels, guard-boats, and
telegraphs, are the precautions employed to prevent escape; which few
have attempted, and fewer still accomplished.
The first commandant was Surgeon John Russell; an office subsequently
confided to Captain O'Hara Booth, a gentleman whose administration has
been the subject of great eulogy. A minute code of government
regulations defined the duties of all on the station. Hither all
convicted of colonial crimes, or of more serious misconduct as assigned
servants or in the road gangs, or who were separated to more than
ordinary punishment by the secretary of state, or of the educated class,
were sent. The degrees of punishment were, however, varied; and the more
severe was exhausting and dangerous. The carrying gang, with a massive
balk on the shoulders, resembled a huge centipede. The laborers,
sometimes thirty together, groaning beneath a weight of many tons,
obtained no respite from toil. The slippery and inclining ground exposed
them to terrific perils: when they complained of inability to bear
their burden, they were flogged, taken back, and compelled, by
supernatural effort, to raise the load they had laid down. The numerous
orders were enforced without momentary relaxation, and the scourge was
the chief agent of control.
When the settlement was new, the men suffered from scurvy; they were
not, subsequently, unhealthy: diseases of the heart formed a large
proportion of their maladies. Many instances of great hardship have been
authenticated; and several committed murder to be removed from misery by
a public execution. The possession of a piece of tobacco was penal, and
for this offence alone multitudes were flogged; but its use was only
limited by the supply: many men would have risked the rack, rather than
rejected this valued indulgence. A wesleyan missionary was accustomed to
reward his servant with the luxury, until he found that being
distributed, others were involved in punishment. Visitors usually
carried tobacco, which they dropped on the tramway by which they were
conveyed; and even when the prohibitions were most severely enforced,
money would procure a supply.
The effect of Capt. Booth's administration was soon visible: the
stoutest hearted gave way. Inexorably just, according to the system he
represented, the accused might plead, but were never pardoned. The
gentlemen convicts, clad in a prison dress, were employed in lighter
labor and worked together; but were transferred to more penal gangs, for
the least disorder. It is said that the terrors of Port Arthur were
preventive of crime; that its rigour controlled and reformed, for the
time, such as were sent there; but, both by those who vindicated, and
those who condemned its severity, it is admitted that relapses were
usual;[204] that it operated on the will by mechanical force, but
debased the soul.
However heavy the hand of authority, it was not capricious. The
overseers and constables were less brutal than at the road parties and
previous penal stations. Compared with every other settlement of its
class, Port Arthur, during Booth's management, was more humane because
more equal and impartial. Constantly exhibited as a place of profound
misery, it carried the vengeance of the law to the utmost limits of
human endurance.
It would be improper to withhold the common testimony in favor of this
officer, of whom the writer never heard a prisoner speak with reproach:
he was detested only as the personification of unimpassioned severity.
He gave all the weight of his example to promote the success of the
missionary, and paid him respect in the sight of the prisoners. Time
softens all things, and Captain Booth, on calm reflection, deserves to
be remembered with respect, as an officer who took no pleasure in the
sufferings he inflicted--who was as prompt to reward as to punish. A
further detail is needless, and would add no new illustration of
transportation.
The interest which Arthur took in the settlement which bears his name,
may be inferred from his frequent visits, and the large promises which
he offered in reference to its future prosperity. He thought seven
thousand men might be sent there, to be detained six months on an
average; and that the large consumption and expenditure would be repaid
by the produce of their labor. From an early date, Port Arthur possessed
the advantage of schools and ministerial attendance. A church, of
handsome exterior, was erected.[205]
As the settlement improved, a tramway formed of hard wood, crossed a
space of five miles, and thus connected the opposite bays. On this road,
travellers were conveyed by human labor, a large proportion of the
distance being, however, overcome by spontaneous locomotion.
The denizens of Port Arthur would furnish a curious collection of
biography: the muster would be a living calendar. Among the more
celebrated were, Ikey Solomon, the receiver, whom they made constable:
the chartists--men, in whose fate millions have publicly expressed an
interest. There was Collins, the mad sailor, who threw a stone at the
last king; May, who murdered the Italian boy; and Cohen, a jew, who
resigned himself to despair, and refusing sustenance, died: they now
rest in the "_Isle de Mort_."
The establishment at Point Puer was intended to reclaim and control,
rather than to punish, the unfortunate youth submitted to its
discipline. Until a very late period, boys had been transmitted to the
colonies in company with the men, and were treated without much
discrimination: some at an age to understand crime only as a trick, or
to deserve aught except pity and correction. Thus at Preston, a child,
only seven years old, was transported for life. A boy, three years
older, perhaps the same, called by his fellow prisoners, "King John,"
after three years imprisonment, arrived in this colony (1829) with sixty
other lads; of whom, on their embarkation, not one in twenty could
repeat the Lord's prayer.[206] It was stated by a Lord Mayor of London,
that nothing could be kinder than to transport juvenile offenders to a
country where their labor would be useful and their prosperity sure. It
may be presumed, that in this spirit a girl and two boys were committed
to take their trial for stealing some wood, valued at twopence, the
property of the crown.[207] These acts of severity forcibly contrast
with the happier fortunes of other classes. It is said of George III,
that he arrested two Eton boys in the act of poaching: they took him for
a keeper, and offered their pocket-money as a bribe. He threatened to
inform their master; but next day sent them a present, requesting them
to cease their depredations. They were peers when the monarch told the
story, and he observed that they were most rigorous preservers of their
game--"according to the old proverb, set a thief to catch a thief," said
the king! A better authenticated anecdote was given by Lord Eldon, of
his juvenile adventures; such as a rigorous magistrate might have turned
to a very different account.[208] By what construction of equity the
poor man's son, or the orphan, could deserve to be branded with an
indelible stigma for no heavier crimes, it would be in vain to ask.
Infractions of the law cannot be tolerated in any age, yet its
administration has been often both partial and unmerciful.
Most of these young convicts had been first imprisoned a short period,
and then turned on the world to obtain, by greater crimes, more lasting
protection; or sometimes accused, but not convicted, they waited amidst
moral pestilence the long delays of justice. A lad, fourteen years of
age, was charged with stealing a hat: twelve months after, he was
acquitted. What wonder that, dismissed a hardened criminal, he returned
to be transported for life.[209] Such was the education of many, who
might fairly adopt the language of Howard to the German emperor--"It is
not in the power of your majesty to make reparation for the injury they
have suffered." No subsequent care could atone for the long slumber of
protective justice.
It is refreshing to find that kindness and coercion were united in the
discipline of Point Puer: an oasis in the desert of penal
government--unless viewed from the woolsack. Captain Booth was prompt in
subduing rebellion and enforcing industry: the meals were regular, and
habits of devotion and cleanliness were promoted. But when the boys were
submissive and diligent, they were not forbidden to be happy: they were
made tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, boat-builders, masons, and
gardeners. Some became acceptable apprentices, were lost sight of as
prisoners, and are now known only as respectable men. Such boys,
however, were protected from contamination, from the moment of
conviction. Those who mingled indiscriminately with the prisoners,
surpassed them in mischief and wickedness. When landed they were placed
in the barracks: some, not more than ten years old, blended the trickery
of boyhood with the villainy of age, and had scarcely arrived a week,
before they were tied up to the triangles and punished with the cat.
Lord John Russell, yielding to humane suggestions, collected a
cargo of juveniles from the various prisons, and appointed a
surgeon-superintendent, who never lost sight of their moral welfare. The
care was not unavailing: Captain Booth reported that a large proportion
passed through his hands without incurring even magisterial correction,
notwithstanding the most trivial disorders were punished. The
reformation of adults may admit of scepticism, and be tolerated as a
topic of ridicule: but children, taught to steal earlier than to speak;
who received the first lessons of crime on the lap of a mother; who
never heard of God, but from the lips of blasphemers--or of right, but
as the fair distribution of spoil, were surely entitled to compassion.
The sympathies of man cast penal science to the winds, and scorn to
preserve the inexorable temper of legal vengeance, to save the rich from
peculation, by the moral immolation of infant robbers. They are orphans
cast upon a nation's mercy; for though nature gave them the claims of
children, she did not secure them an interest in a parent's heart.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 201: Collins.]
[Footnote 202: _Mudie's Felonry of New South Wales_, p. 27.]
[Footnote 203: Savary wrote a novel, called _Quintus Servington_, 3
vols. It professes to detail his life: it sets out with a gypsy
prophecy, delivered at his birth, which gave warning to his father that
his son would be in danger between his thirtieth and fortieth year; but,
passing that period, safely reach a happy old age!]
[Footnote 204: Arthur's evidence: Murdoch's ditto.]
[Footnote 205: While its foundation was digging, a murder was committed
in the trench, and when its roof was covered, the plumber moulded
dollars from lead, the property of government.]
[Footnote 206: This child, when asked his age by the superintendent,
answered, "I was so young when I was born, that I cannot tell."]
[Footnote 207: _Spectator_, Sept. 21, 1833.]
[Footnote 208: "I do not know how it was, but we always considered
robbing an orchard an honorable exploit. I remember once being carried
before a magistrate: there were three of us. The magistrate acted upon
what, I think, was rather curious law: he fined our fathers each 30s.
for our offence. We were very good boys, indeed. I believe, we never did
anything worse than a robbery."--_Lord Eldon; Life, by Horace Twiss._]
[Footnote 209: _Prison Discipline Society's Report_, 1827.]