On Capital Punishment.
One of the questions which is most frequently put to me is, whether I
consider capital punishment is a right and proper thing. To this I can
truly answer that I do. For my own part I attach much weight to the
Scripture injunction, "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his
blood be shed," and I think that the abolition of capital punishment
would be a defiance of the divine command. Therefore I would not
abolish capital punishment altogether, but, as I shall explain later, I
would greatly alter the conditions under which it is imposed.
Perhaps many of my readers will say that the Scriptural command should
have no weight, and others will say that it was a command given under
the "dispensation of Law," while we live under the "dispensation
of Grace." Therefore I would argue that, quite apart from any
consideration of a religious nature, capital punishment is absolutely
necessary for the checking of the greatest criminals.
In the discharge of my duties as a policeman, both in the Nottingham,
in the Bradford, and in the West Riding Police force, I have had many
chances of studying the ways of life and thought of the criminal
classes, and I have paid a great deal of attention to the subject. As
the result of my experience I can safely say that capital punishment,
and "the cat," are the only legal penalties that possess any real
terrors for the hardened criminal, for the man who might be called a
"professional" as distinguished from an "amateur" ruffian. Such a man
does what he can to keep out of prison, because he dislikes restraint,
and routine, and sobriety, but this dislike is not strong enough
to deter him from any crime which offers even a chance of escaping
scot-free; and I do not think that the fear of imprisonment ever
occurs to him when he has once got criminal work actually in hand.
Penal servitude, even for life, has no very acute terrifying influence,
partly because no criminal ever believes that it will be a reality in
his case, as he feels sure that he will get a commutation of sentence;
and partly because, even if he were sure that the imprisonment were
actually for life, he knows that prison life is not such a dreadful
fate, after all--when one gets used to it. But when it comes to a
question of a death sentence it is quite another matter. Death is
a horrible mystery, and a death on the scaffold, a cold-blooded,
pre-determined, and ignominious death is especially horrible to the
criminal mind. As a rule the most desperate criminals are those
who are most terrified by the thought of death at the hands of the
executioner, possibly, because the most desperate men spring from the
most superstitious class of the community, and have the greatest dread
of that "something" after death which they cannot define.
The criminal classes do not neglect their newspapers, but keep
themselves pretty well posted, either by reading or conversation, upon
the subjects that are of most direct interest to them, and follow all
the details of the most important criminal trials. In this way they
always keep more or less before them the thought of the nature of
capital punishment, and I believe that it will be found that the number
of capital crimes in any given period is inversely proportionate to
the number of capital punishments in the immediately preceding period.
Whenever there is a series of executions, without reprieves, the number
of murders decreases, and on the other hand, after a period in which
several persons have been tried for murder and acquitted, or reprieved
after sentence, the number of crimes appears to increase. I do not
think that this rule can be demonstrated forcibly and convincingly by
a reference to the mere numbers of murders, convictions, reprieves,
and executions during the past few years, because there are many
considerations which bear upon the significance of an execution or
reprieve; but I think that anyone who has given attention to the
subject will bear me out in my contention.
Undoubtedly the fear of death is a great deterring power amongst
abandoned men, and the fear is most powerful when the death seems
most certain and the hope of reprieve most remote. This consideration
leads me to think that the deterrent value of the death sentence would
be greatly increased if it could be made absolutely irrevocable.
Considering capital punishment as a moral power for frightening
criminals still at large, I think it would be much better, if in all
cases where there is the slightest possible chance of reprieve, the
sentence were suspended for a time.
I advocate that the sentence of death, once passed, should be a
sentence which the doomed man, as well as his friends and sympathisers
who are still at liberty, should regard as quite irrevocable.
At the same time I do not advocate an increase in the number of
executions--just the reverse. As the best means to this end I think
we ought to have a considerable alteration in our criminal law as it
relates to murder cases. I think that the jury should have more power
over the sentence, and for this purpose I think that they ought to have
the choice of five classes of verdict, namely:--
1. Not guilty.
2. Not proven.
3. Murder in the third degree.
4. Murder in the second degree.
5. Murder in the first degree.
In the case of a verdict of "Not Guilty" the prisoner would, of course,
be acquitted, and would be a free man as he is with such a verdict at
present.
In the case of the verdict of "Not Proven" it should be within the
power of the judge to remand the prisoner, pending the further
investigation of any clues that might seem likely to throw light upon
the case; or to release him, either with or without bail or police
supervision.
A verdict of "Murder in the third degree" would be brought in in
cases where there was undoubted proof of the crime being committed by
the prisoner, but in which the circumstances were such as to make it
extremely unlikely that the prisoner would ever again commit a violent
crime. This would cover the cases of people who shoot their friends and
then plead that they "did not think it was loaded," and would be a much
better verdict than the "accidental death" which is generally returned
at present. When the jury find this verdict of murder in the third
degree it should rest with the judge to impose a term of imprisonment,
long or short, according to the circumstances.
"Murder in the second degree" would embrace cases in which the murder
was fully proved but in which there was not premeditation or intent to
murder. Under this head would come a number of deaths resulting from
rows, brawls, and assaults without intent to kill. The judge would have
the power to pass a sentence of death or of penal servitude for life.
"Murder in the first degree," in which both intent and result had been
murder, would be a verdict leaving the judge no option but to impose
the death penalty.
Another question which ought to be considered in this connection is the
question of appeals. At present appeals are made to the Home Secretary.
He is really assisted by a number of other gentlemen, who examine most
thoroughly into the original evidence, and any additional evidence
that may have turned up, but this is a tribunal not legally appointed,
and the public notion is that in cases of appeal the reversal of the
sentence lies in the hands of one man. I do not think that even the
most abandoned wretches would impute any unfairness to the English Home
Secretary, but I know that in many quarters there is an idea that the
Home Secretary is "a very kind gentleman," who will "let 'em off" if
he possibly can, and such an idea seems to be a very mischievous one.
A court of appeal would appear less personal, and would be far less
likely to be suspected of leniency if it consisted of three judges, one
of whom should be the judge who had originally tried the case. To such
a bench of judges I would allow appeals to be made, and would give them
power to re-open cases, refer them back to the juries, or to modify
sentences, but not to reverse a jury's verdict. This would mean that in
the case of a verdict of "murder in the first degree," the only way in
which the execution could be prevented would be by referring the case
back to the jury, and this should only be done on the production of new
evidence pointing to a miscarriage of justice. In the extreme case of
evidence turning up at the last moment, the Home Secretary should have
power to grant a stay of execution for such length of time as would
allow the bench of judges to re-open the case.
The drawing up and presentation of petitions by people who are in no
way connected with the case, would to a great extent be done away
with under such a system as I have outlined, but in order to provide
for cases where the system might not have this effect, I would make
it a punishable offence to attempt to influence the decision of the
judges or jurymen, by an appeal to any consideration other than the
evidence. This advice I give because in so many, nay, in most cases,
the appeals contained in petitions are based upon considerations
other than the justice of the case. If the condemned person is an
interesting character, or if there is any sort of excuse upon which
an appeal can be based, there are always a great number of people who
have no special knowledge of the case, and who, perhaps, have not
even read the newspaper reports, who are ready to get up petitions,
collect signatures, and stir up a lot of sympathy for one who too often
deserves nothing but execration and contempt. Such agitations lead to
much misrepresentation of facts, and often to sweeping condemnations of
the judge and jury. They tend to infuse, in the minds of young people
especially, an incorrect notion that the administration of the law is
uncertain and ineffectual, even if it is not unjust and corrupt.
The mere fact of the extent to which the consideration of loathsome
crimes and their punishment is brought under the notice of children by
this system of petitions, is in my mind sufficient argument for its
complete suppression. One case I might instance, in which the masters
of two public schools led the whole of the children under their charge
through an ante-room in which a petition was lying, and made them all
sign it in turn. This kind of thing occurs whenever a petition praying
for a sentence of death to be reversed or commuted is in the course of
signature, and surely such a thing should not be possible.
In many cases the people who draw up these petitions are people who
object on principle to all capital punishment, but unfortunately the
principle is entirely lost to sight when dealing with individual
cases. The fact of big petitions being presented in one case, while no
effort is made in another case with similar features, naturally leads
uneducated people to think that there is uncertainty and injustice
about the whole affair.
There is still one other respect in which I think that our law with
reference to murder and the death penalty ought to be altered, and that
is with regard to the length of time allowed to elapse between sentence
and execution. In the interests of all concerned I would reduce the
time from three clear weeks, as at present, to one week only. No doubt
many readers will cry out against this as an unnecessary cruelty to the
condemned, but I say that I would do it in the interests of _all_ after
full consideration and an unusually full knowledge of the ideas of the
condemned upon the subject. It is not a shorter time that would be a
cruelty--the present long time is where the real cruelty comes in.
So far as I know, the three weeks' "grace" given to the condemned man
is intended as a time for repentance and for attending to the affairs
of the soul. Therefore, the question of allowing a long or short time
is to a great extent a religious one, and dangerous for me to tackle,
so I will confine my remarks as far as possible to matters of fact
and mere common-sense considerations. If the only purpose of the time
allowed between sentence and execution is to admit of conversion and
a preparation for heaven, it is fair to ask of anyone who wishes
to continue the present system, whether it serves the purpose. If
not, there would seem to be no valid argument in favour of its
continuance. Personally, I am convinced by long experience, that the
hope of regeneration during three weeks in the case of murderers is
absolutely vain. There are many instances in which the criminal becomes
"penitent," as it is sometimes termed, and these penitents may be
divided into two classes. Firstly, there is the class of those who have
committed murder without intent or premeditation. In a fit of frenzy
or under peculiar circumstances they have killed a human being. It may
be a half-starved mother who has killed the baby she could not feed,
or a man who in a whirlwind of temper has killed the unfaithful and
miserable wife whose conduct has made his life a hell upon earth for
years. It may be many another similar case which under the scheme of
five possible verdicts, propounded above, would be returned as murder
in the second or third degree. Under such a law the extreme penalty
would not be imposed; but while we are under our present law, and
supposing that these persons are condemned, without chance of reprieve,
we may fairly ask whether the three weeks' grace is an advantage to
them. Such criminals are truly repentant, or rather, remorseful. As
a rule, the enormity of the crime bursts upon them in the first calm
moment after its commission. They recoil in horror from the deed they
have done and would gladly sacrifice anything, even life itself, to
undo that deed again. There is true repentance, which I take it is the
key to forgiveness, even before their apprehension and condemnation.
Everything that can be done on earth by or for such poor souls, can be
done in a week, and they would not ask for more. Their repentance is
sincere, their horror of their crime is greater than their dread of
death, which they welcome as a means of expiation. Is any good purpose
served by keeping such people for three weeks in agony?
The second class of "penitents" consists of a horrible section of
humanity--the cowardly desperadoes. These are usually men whose crimes
have shown a refinement of cruelty and callousness that is positively
revolting. They are the "hardened" or professional criminals whose
hearts are devoid of pity or remorse, and equally devoid of the least
spark of courage. They are the miserable men whose lives have been
spent in defying and blaspheming God, but who, when they see death
before them, whine and howl, and beg for the intercession of the
chaplain or any other godly person they may meet with, not because
they repent of their sins, but because they are frightened almost to
death by the thought of a fiery hell, which has been painted before
their imaginations in glowing colours. To such men as these I am
sure that the shortening of the waiting time would be the greatest
possible mercy, for the longer time only gives them opportunity to work
themselves into an almost demented state. At the end of three weeks
they are often so broken down and hysterical as to be incapable of
correctly understanding anything, and their only remaining feeling is a
wild, frantic dread of the scaffold.
Besides the two classes of penitents, there only remains the class
who are not penitent at all. They are mostly men who have been long
acquainted with crime, who have made it the business of their lives.
They look upon the law and its officers much as a business man looks
upon a clever and unscrupulous competitor; and upon a sentence of death
as one of the business risks. Life ends for them, not at the scaffold,
but in the dock, when sentence is pronounced. From that time they sink
into a state of sullen indifference, or take up any occupation that may
offer, merely to kill time. In some cases they take to Bible reading
and prayers, because they think "it can't do any harm, and may do a
bit of good," and because they have nothing else to do. No one can say
that such men are penitent, since on release they would return to their
vicious ways. They would not be likely to reach any better state if
they were allowed to live three months instead of three weeks, for the
only regret that they can be brought to feel is personal and purely
selfish. It is founded on fear of hell, and is not a contrition for
having committed the crime, but a regret that the crime carries with
it a punishment in the next world. Convicts of this class, when they
have no hope of reprieve, do not thank us for the three weeks of "life"
that are given to them. If they could have their own choice, they would
prefer to walk straight from the dock to the scaffold, and to "get it
over" at once.
In every case if the matter is thoroughly inquired into, on lines of
common sense instead of mere sentiment, I think the conclusion will be
that the three weeks allowed are no advantage whatever to the convicts.
In most cases their position would be decidedly improved by reducing
the time.
There are other distinct advantages to be gained by reducing the
interval. In the first place it would greatly improve the moral effect
of the death sentence. Retribution following directly after conviction
is a distinct object lesson, and the shorter the time between, the more
obvious is the connection between the crime and the punishment. When
even three weeks elapse the connection is often lost.
In the second place, the alteration I advocate would greatly prevent
the stirring up of false sentiment in favour of convicts who happen to
have an interesting personality. It would put a stop to the petition
signing which is often indulged in by people who know nothing of the
case, but who are worked upon to express sympathy with the convict, and
want of faith in the justice of our system of trial. If only a week
elapsed between sentence and execution, the facts of the trial and
details of the evidence would remain fresher in the public mind, and
people would be less liable to be led to mistrust the justice of the
sentence.
To all the people who have charge of the convicts before execution, a
shortening of the time would be a great blessing, for such a charge
is often a soul-harrowing experience. The chaplains especially, whose
experiences are often most unpleasant; and whose earnest efforts meet
with such disappointing return, would, I think, welcome the change.
[Illustration: Norwich Castle.]