While these questions were agitated
in England, Sir John Franklin received the government
of Tasmania. Captain Maconochie, already known
to scientific men, and who had enjoyed long the friendship
of the Governor, accepted the office of private secretary a
situation of not much emolument, but highly confidential.
When his destination became public, the society for
the improvement of prison discipline requested him
to examine closely the results of transportation, as
exhibited in Van Diemen’s Land. To assist
his inquiries, they prepared sixty-seven questions,
comprehending the details of convict management, on
which they desired a minute exposition of his views;
and added, “make such general remarks as
occur on the whole convict system of the colony, and
its effects on the moral and social state of the community:
also remark on the effect of the latter, and enter
on the subject largely, making any observation which
may be useful in regard thereto.”
Captain Maconochie referred the application
to Sir George Grey, who consented, conditionally: that
all papers on the subject should pass through the
usual channel to the colonial-office, and be first
placed at his absolute disposal. The effects
of this commission were momentous. Maconochie,
when he left Great Britain, professed a freedom from
decided bias, and to favor the general system of Arthur,
rather than that propounded by Archbishop Whately.
The opinions he ultimately adopted, he ascribed to
his own observation, and disclaimed all prejudice against
those forms of prison discipline he was destined to
subvert.
The discussions thus originated are
of a deeply interesting character, and their influence
will long survive the animosity they occasioned.
The completion of Maconochie’s report was exceedingly
rapid, or it was very early commenced. He had
resided but three months, when he felt authorised
to pronounce the existing system of management defective,
far less in application than in principle. The
course ascribed to Maconochie was that of a prejudiced
spy, seeking evidence for a case pre-judged:
that which he claimed, was the task of a philosopher,
scanning facts patent to every eye even
more striking when first seen. His conclusions
he attributed to the inevitable process by which facts
are generalised, and demonstrate systems. His
style, when deliberate, is terse and explicit:
his ideas he expressed with the utmost freedom; or,
as it then seemed, audacity. The colonists he
treated as an operator, who indeed pities the sufferings
of his patient, but disregards a natural outcry, while
expounding in the language of science both the symptoms
and the cure. Without circumlocution or reserve,
he spoke of the officers concerned in convict management
as blinded by habit as empirics who could
patch and cauterise a wound, but were involved in the
hopeless prejudices of a topical practice, and much
too far gone to comprehend improvements founded on
scientific principles. His deviations from the
tone of philosophical discussion were not numerous,
but they were marked. The chief police magistrate
he compared to the lamplighter, by whom gas is detested.
In praising that officer’s administrative talent,
he observed that he belonged to the martinet school,
and that his estimate of human nature depressed it
below its worth.
The representations of Maconochie,
with reference to the condition of the convicts and
the character of the settlers, awakened a storm of
indignation. Transportation, he said, at a distance
appeared a trivial penalty; but when surveyed more
nearly, it was found to be inhuman. The servant
was assigned to a master without his consent; his employment
was alien to his habits; he labored without wages;
he was met with suspicion, and ruled with insult or
contempt. The servant became sullen, the settler
vindictive: slight offences were visited with
punishments “severe, to excessive cruelty,” offences,
often the ébullitions of wounded feeling, and
the tokens of a hopeless wretchedness.
Notwithstanding, this condition unknown
to the population at home afforded no warning.
The victims were uncompensated the great
majority unreformed. Thus, employers preferred
new hands to those passed through this discipline
of suffering. Such as rose in society, were seldom
really respectable; they neither regretted their crimes,
nor offered atonement. But if the prisoner was
injured, the colonist was not less so. Social
virtues were discouraged; all classes were contentious
and overbearing: the police, ever prying into
the business of life, thus intermixed with penal systems,
filled the colony with exasperation, from which not
even the mildest spirits could escape. He did
not propose to abolish transportation, but that the
government by its own officers should both punish
and reform; that the prisoners, when restored to society,
should stand in the relations of free men to all except
the crown, receiving wages at the current rate; and
if restrained in their expenditure, not for punishment,
but for safety “the chains of paternal
authority” thrown over them, “to protect
them against themselves.”
Maconochie sent to Sir G. Grey a Summary
of his Report, containing his opinions of existing
systems: at his request it was at once handed
to Lord John Russell, who again, conveyed it to the
committee then sitting upon the subject of transportation.
Although substantially agreeing with his report, the
summary condensed, and therefore rendered more
flagrant, the charges against the colonists, and his
description of the condition of the prisoners still
more revolting.
This Summary appeared in an
English newspaper. Hitherto the discussion had
been confined to official circles or to select correspondence:
it was now open to the world; and the colonists found,
with astonishment, that the reform proposed was radical,
and that the opinions of the reformer were wholly
adverse to the existing systems.
In this summary, the condition of
the convicts was depicted with all the coloring of
misery: they were slaves, subject to coercion;
strangers to moral impulses, save only the distant
hope of liberty. They were lodged in huts with
stable roofs, damp floors, and rude furniture.
They slept on truckle bedsteads, often undressed;
their food was cooked in the roughest manner; without
wages, they robbed; miserable, they were drunken.
Their better qualities were unregistered: the
artful escaped, while the “careless fellow,”
otherwise good, was involved in a long train of penalties.
A ticket obtained, the holder could acquire no property,
and was worried by police interference; and in one
night his indulgence might be forfeited. Though
some masters, generous or weak, softened its rigour,
assignment as a punishment, generally exceeded the
desert of minor offences: and its degradation,
unfelt by old offenders, was agony to men of minds
more sensitive. The bad were little punished,
the good demoralised; self respect was destroyed; and
men born to better things, sacrificed by political
institutions, rather than by their personal depravity
or their crimes. This state was worse than negro
slavery: the interests of the masters were less
permanent; who, though they did not fear their servants,
disliked, coerced, and inveighed against them.
This slavery tainted colonial life: the colonists
were harsh and overbearing at home; they were quarrelsome
neighbours, given to reckless assertion; rapacious,
envious, and disaffected. Government was unpopular,
and all governors so in succession. The police,
if not corrupt, was irksome and intrusive. Labor
was wasted, emigration discouraged. Crime and
drunkenness multiplied, and what a hundred and fifty
is to one thousand, or thirteen hundred, such was the
crime of Van Diemen’s Land to that of England
and Scotland. Drunkenness had risen, in ten years,
from three per cent. to fourteen per cent.: in
London, such was the difference of tendencies between
those meridians, it was reduced to an imperceptible
fraction.
To remedy these evils, he demanded
the abolition of domestic slavery: a separation,
distinct as their natures, between punishment and moral
training; punishment, certain and appropriate inflicted
upon system, and in seclusion; and training, not less
systematic, but social and probationary coercion
being banished, moral influence alone applied.
For punishment, Maconochie deemed the system of Port
Arthur, administered by Booth, an admirable model.
For training, he suggested stations within reach of
the free community, where the convicts should be prepared
for society in parties of six, joined in a common fate,
by mutual agreement. They were to work out their
redemption together: their vigilance would detect,
their interests depress disorders in the clubs; the
virtues of sobriety, diligence, decency, and industry,
achieved by each, would be rewarded for the common
benefit of all; but for the fault of one, the whole
would pay the penalty; or should the partnership be
dissolved by the intolerable injustice of any, its
disbanded members would return to their starting point,
and in new combinations pursue again, and perhaps
again, the first steps, until all should reach abreast
one common goal.
Such was the system of moral training
and mutual responsibility, which he deemed only a
new accommodation of established principles. In
his view, it was a moral field the greatest statesman
might enter with success, and thus crown himself with
immortal renown. Such in substance was the summary,
afterwards amplified by details and illustrated by
facts. In subsequent papers the more offensive
passages were explained and qualified; but at best,
they appear not only an indictment of opinions and
systems, but of classes and communities.
Sir John Franklin promptly referred
the queries of the Society to an official board,
which consisted of the chief police magistrate of the
territory (Captain Forster), the director-general of
public works (Captain Cheyne), and the superintendent
of convicts (Mr. Spode). In reply to sixty-six
of these questions they had only to refer to undisputed
facts; but the last contemplated both the theory and
practice of transportation. In the statement of
facts they united; but the proper remedies to apply
to acknowledged evils, admitted of difference and
they all differed.
The memorandum of the chief police
magistrate, beside briefly describing the practice
of former times, recommended important changes for
the future. Instead of assignment from the ships,
he suggested that all prisoners should be placed on
the public works, for a period to be fixed by the
judges. He proposed a new distribution of time
penalties: thus instead of seven, fourteen years,
and life, to recognise by law a more minute and proportionate
sub-division. In assignment, he recommended wages,
rateable at the discretion of government; afterwards
a first class ticket-of-leave, with a permission
to choose employers; and a second class, to
include most of the privileges of freedom, voidable
only by a court of quarter sessions for specified offences.
The conditional pardon he deemed it necessary to defer
a longer time than usual; since, when released from
surveillance and responsibility, ticket-holders often
relapsed into the vices from which they had previously
emerged.
Mr. Spode concurred with the chief
police magistrate, though with serious reservations:
especially, he deprecated any delay of assignment a
state he deemed most conducive to reform, and highly
useful to the colony. Mr. Forster had declared
that female prisoners “were not available
subjects for prison discipline.” Mr.
Spode recommended solitary confinement, or marriage.
In the meantime, Maconochie having drawn up his report,
submitted it to Captain Cheyne, and made a proselyte.
Captain Cheyne took the colony by
surprise. Not only did he denounce assignment,
but spoke of the settlers with still less tenderness:
he asserted that a great proportion of those entrusted
with convicts “were dissolute in their habits,
and depraved in their principles.” That
there “existed a fearful degree of depravity,
unparalleled in any age;” that assignment was
the great source of crime and caste: for the convict
“no man cared;” few were exempt from contemptuous
and brutal treatment few escaped punishment.
Such opinions could only usher in a system radically
new. Thus Captain Cheyne proposed to divide the
prisoners into gangs of two hundred each, and the
adoption of task work proportioned to physical strength.
He proposed wages to be paid to the road parties, to
be expended in the purchase of comforts, or reserved
for a future day. On introducing the prisoners
into society, he recommended a graduated scale of
indulgence, not greatly dissimilar from the propositions
stated already.
The papers of Maconochie and Cheyne
were referred to the members of the executive council,
and were generally condemned. Captain Montagu
urged the great danger to the public peace, from the
propagation of an opinion that the laws were unjust,
the masters oppressive, and the government cruel.
Were it intended to test Maconochie’s theory,
he demanded a large increase of military force.
He, however, complained that gentlemen, who possessed
such slight practical knowledge, should venture to
assail established systems. His remarks chiefly
related to the colonial influence of their ideas,
and he exaggerated the danger to the public safety.
The most dispassionate examination of this report was
given by Archdeacon Hutchins. It was far more
copious in its admissions in reference to the existing
system. Little work was done; the prisoners were
very slightly reformed, and the agents often unfit.
But by what means labor could be exacted, or a “millennial
age of righteousness” supersede the past, he
declared himself uncertain. He was sceptical that
it was possible to obtain men of science, prudence,
and equity, to administer a system so complexed, and
requiring such discretion.
Mr. Gregory, the colonial treasurer,
adopted a less grave form of criticism. He soothed,
by his humour, the colonial wrath, and among the lesser
gods excited unextinguishable laughter. The charges
of Maconochie and Cheyne against the colonists, he
described as loose and random shots, fired by inexperienced
hands. In reducing the plan of clubs to practical
details, he insisted they were unequal, and even impossible.
The minute appraisement, both of good and evil; reckoning
up the diurnal merits of the men the balance
of which was to furnish their capital stock, to discharge
their fines, to find them food and clothing, and liberty he
described as a gigantic scheme of finance. He
amused himself by supposing the number of chances
which might intervene before, of ninety-six men, the
whole should be divided into clubs of six, and by
the separate agreement of all combine their fortunes,
and risk joint forfeitures: each man settling
into partnership with five others whom he could trust,
and by whom he could be trusted. He figured also
the embarrassment of the protectors, who every evening,
ledger in hand, must make up their debtor and creditor
account for the three hundred probationers.
The summary, Capt. Maconochie
had enclosed, under seal of the Governor, to Sir George
Grey, without however fully explaining its contents
to Sir John Franklin, or intimating its serious and
formal nature. When the journal containing it
was placed in his hands, he uttered an exclamation
of astonishment, and instantly dismissed its author,
but did not withdraw his friendship. Maconochie
represented that it was a private document, intended
for private use its sudden appearance not
less unexpected than embarrassing. That he had
not submitted this paper to the Governor, he ascribed
to the irritation caused by the difference of their
opinions; and that he did not delay its transmission,
he imputed to its overwhelming importance and its
pressure on his mind. How the spirit of the Governor
was extolled by the colonists need not be formally
stated, or how his discarded secretary was accused
of rashness, perfidy, and falsehood. Maconochie
did not himself disdain to acknowledge, that in error
of judgment he had forwarded too early, and in a manner
seemingly clandestine, a report so decided. The
imputation of duplicity was unjust: Franklin
was not wholly ignorant of the contents of the packet.
Although not, perhaps, aware that he was franking
a system, yet by the same vessel he wrote to the minister
that he had not read, and could not answer for the
summary. It was, however, strange for
the ministers of the crown to rely on a private report;
and especially upon the truthfulness of an analysis,
which gave opinions, but deferred the evidence on
which they were said to rest.
The resemblance which may be traced
between the system propounded by Maconochie, and the
suggestions which have been offered at various times
by writers on this subject, will not deprive him of
the credit of originality. Hazarded by their
authors without much reflection, the boldness of a
reformer was required to adapt them. It may, however,
be interesting to trace the details which he combined,
or the sources of those ideas which he comprehended
in his scheme.
Sidney Smith suggested “new
gradations of guilt to be established by law, and
new names to those gradations; a different measure
of good and evil treatment attached to those denominations as
rogues, incorrigible rogues,” and so forth.
Mr. Potter M’Queen recommended
a division of offenders, some of whom should be punished
in gangs, and others subject to a process simply reformatory.
Blanco White, a celebrated Spaniard,
had suggested sentences to an amount of work rather
than to an extent of years. He proposed that the
tread-wheel should measure the progress of the culprit,
and that every revolution should bring him nearer
to liberty.
His punitive system had long been
adopted by Arthur, though probably with objects somewhat
distinct: it was found in every penal settlement
and road gang.
Capt. Cheyne had recommended
the opening of accounts and payment for probationary
labor.
At Bermuda, the stimulus of present
enjoyment was offered to industry: convicts were
allowed 1_s._ 6_d._ per week, half of which they were
at liberty to expend in fruits, vegetables, and such
like comforts; the residue forming a fund, sometimes
of L15 and L20, receivable at discharge. These
indulgences were attended with the happiest effects,
and the superintendent, Sir Thomas Usher, was so satisfied
with their reformation, that he had no doubt seven-eighths
were better men at the close than at the commencement
of their bondage.
The idea of clubs was found in the
tithings of the ancient Britons, which were enrolled
by the authority of Alfred, and made liable for each
other. Maconochie saw in the disjointed and licentious
condition of that era, something analogous to the
state of convicts, and in the result that “a
bracelet might be left on the highway with security,”
an encouragement to hope, from a similar organisation,
for the same success. Capt. Maconochie quoted
Hume in describing these societies, but he omitted
those sentences which seem to give another aspect to
the institution; for when a member of the tithings
was charged with a crime, the rest could purge themselves
from responsibility, if acquitted on oath of connivance
with the offender, or his escape: but, however
innocent, the clubs of Maconochie were involved in
the responsibility of the transgressor a
fundamental difference, the suppression of which was
scarcely compatible with literary candour.
Bentham himself had proposed that
convicts should remain at auxiliary establishments,
in principle resembling the training stations of Maconochie,
until they could be prepared for the full enjoyment
of liberty. He also suggested mutual surveillance
associations, in which the prisoners should watch
over, instruct, and assist each other. Archbishop
Whately advocated the detention of prisoners until
their reformation was established.
Maconochie attributed his idea of
marks to an observation of Messrs. Backhouse and Walker
on their usefulness in training the rising generation:
they thought they discerned a faint image of the club
system at Macquarie Harbour, where devout prisoners
separated themselves into a society, and were secured
from the interruption of the rest. Men from bondage,
were released in the hulks, when the sum total of marks
in their favor covered a certain period of their sentence.
Macarthur had recommended the employment
of an officer, under the immediate direction of the
home secretary of state, responsible for the full
execution of a sentence, to whom the entire management
of the convict department might be committed.
The governors would thus be less likely to change
the aspect of transportation, according to their particular
theories.
Captain Maconochie was preceded in
this branch of penal philosophy by a gentleman, not
equally celebrated, but who proposed changes as radical.
It is amusing to observe, with what different objects,
and how diverse in spirit, similar mutations have
been enforced. Dr. Henderson, the founder of
the Van Diemen’s Land Society, on returning to
India, offered through the press at Calcutta a new
scheme of colonisation, based on convict government.
That which existed he deemed defective in its main
principles, and futile in its results. The settlers
he described, with some contempt, as an inferior class,
inflated with notions of liberty and equality, and
debased by convict associations; prone to quarrel and
encroach, but distressed with the endless vexations
of their lot. Forbidden to punish the insolence
of their servants; exposed to the disgrace of meeting
their accusations; or when they prosecuted a charge,
liable to the strictures of the magistrate, who might
penetrate the secrets of their dwellings, and censure
them in the presence of their exulting slaves.
Thus, though the author assumed the tone of philosophical
discussion, he differed from others who professed to
investigate principles: he observed “We
find the convicts in the condition of slaves placed
under despotic power.” “It is not
necessary to enquire whether it is for their benefit;”
“they are not entitled to our sympathy, should
they be treated with the rigour of slaves:”
“they will not often labor when they are removed
from the dread of punishment.” “The
magistrates should be relieved from forms and precedents,
and punish according to the intrinsic value of offences,
and for the public good.” “More injury
is done by the trammels of the law, than by leaving
the judges to their own discretion.” Such
is the essence of his system, which, however, always
presumed the existence of a lofty purpose and a dispassionate
administration. For this large discretion, however,
he pronounced the existing settlers unfit: he
recommended the employment of young educated gentlemen,
under a board of directors, and proposed as the primary
object of discipline, neither punishment nor intimidation,
but productiveness. Power being lodged
in the hands of the superintendents, without regard
to Burns’ Justice, or written regulations,
they would check offences at once, and punish according
to their social and material tendency. He held,
as vitally important, that all national views in reference
to transportation should be subordinate to the colonial
welfare. Having formed agricultural establishments,
and fitted them to become the home of capitalists,
the officers of government would give place to another
class of employers. The house, the servants,
and the cleared ground, would be disposed of by the
crown; the convicts, gradually trained, exalted into
a free population, and with their families would form
a peasantry. The sale of these estates would
repay the original outlay; and thus, without further
drafts on the treasury, the process could be renewed
in an endless succession. The lash, Dr. Henderson
was far from rejecting as an instrument of correction “cheap
and expeditious:” in short, his was a plan
of slavery, and which conveyed semi-magisterial powers
to the overseers, and gave them a profit on the labor
they might exact.
Henderson had become sultanised by
living in India: he was attached to the spirit
of its government; the legal formalities, which delight
an Englishman, seemed to him the degradation of rank,
and a pernicious license to inferiors. In his
imaginary commonwealth, he saw but two classes, which,
in the language of the East, he distinguished as the
“head and the hand.” He thought the
judges should be required to aid the governors by
their interpretations of the law; who, at the close
of their administration, might be tried by their peers,
and, if found wanting, handed over to everlasting
shame! Thus, his plan embodied the spirit of
caste, of orientalism, and of the India House.
He had no simpering tenderness for the prisoner, while
he attributed to the upper classes an innate rectitude
and self control, such as the British records of the
East will hardly sustain. His speculations are
worth remembering, for the contrast of their animus
with those of Maconochie, and for the analogy in their
details.