Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine — Volume 55, No. 339, January, 1844

STATE PROSECUTIONS

The Englishman who, however well inclined to defer to the wisdom "of former ages," should throw a glance at the stern realities of the past, as connected with the history of his country, will be little disposed to yield an implicit assent to the opinions or assertions of those, who maintain the superiority of the past, to the disparagement and depreciation of the present times. Maxims and sayings of this tendency have undoubtedly prevailed from periods of remote antiquity. The wise monarch of the Jewish nation even forbade his people to ask "the cause that the former days were better than these;" "for," he adds, "thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this." Far different would be the modern precept of a British monarch. Rather let the English subject "enquire diligently concerning this," for he cannot fail to enquire wisely. Let him enquire, and he will find that "the former days" of England were days of discord, tyranny, and oppression; days when an Empson and a Dudley could harass the honest and well-disposed, through the medium of the process of the odious star-chamber; when the crown was possessed of almost arbitrary power, and when the liberty and personal independence of individuals were in no way considered or regarded; days when the severity of our criminal laws drew down from a French philosopher the sneer, that a history of England was a history of the executioner; when the doomed were sent out of the world in bands of twenty, and even thirty, at a time, at Tyburn or at "Execution dock;" and when, in the then unhealthy tone of public morals, criminals famous for their deeds of violence and rapine, were regarded rather as the heroes of romance, than as the pests and scourges of society. Let him enquire, and he will find that all these things have now long since passed away; that the rigours of the criminal law have been entirely mitigated, and that the great charters of our liberties, the fruits of accumulated wisdom and experience, have now been long confirmed. These facts, if universally known and duly pondered over, would go far to banish discontent and disaffection, and would tend to produce a well-founded confidence in the inherent power of adaptation to the necessities of the people, possessed by the constitution of our country. Thus, the social wants of the outer man having been in a great measure supplied, the philanthropy of modern times has been chiefly employed on the mental and moral improvement of the species; the wants of the inner man are now the objects of universal attention, and education has become the great necessity of the age. Hitherto, the municipal laws and institutions of this country have been defective; inasmuch as they have made little or no provision for the adequate instruction of the people. Much, no doubt, has been already done, and education, even now, diffuses her benignant light over a large portion of the population; among whom, the children of the ignorant are able to instruct their parents, and impart, to those who gave them being, a share in the new-found blessing of modern times. Much, however, remains still to be done, and the splendid examples of princely munificence which a great minister of the crown has recently shown the wealthier classes of this wealthy nation, may, in the absence of a state provision, have the effect of stimulating private exertion and generosity. In spite, however, of the moral and intellectual advancement of the present age, the passions and evil designs of the vicious and discontented are still able to influence vast masses of the people. The experience of the last few years unfortunately teaches us, that increased knowledge has not yet banished disaffection, and that though, during the last quarter of a century, the general standard of the nation's morality may have been elevated above its former resting-place, that education, in its present state of advancement, has not as yet effectually disarmed discontent or disaffection, by showing the greater evil which ever attends the endeavour to effect the lesser good, by violent, factious, or seditious means.

Within the last thirteen years, the government has been compelled, on several occasions, to curb the violence and to repress the outbreaks of men who had yet to learn the folly of such attempts; and the powers of the executive have been frequently evoked by those who, of late years, have wielded the destinies of this country. Several state prosecutions have taken place during this period. They never occur without exciting a lively interest; the public eye is critically intent upon the minutest detail of these proceedings; and the public attention is concentrated upon those to whom is confided the vindication of the public rights and the redressing of the public wrongs. It has been often asked by some of these critical observers, How is it that, when great crimes or misdemeanours are to be punished, when the bold and daring offender is to be brought to justice, when the body politic is the offended party, when the minister honours a supposed offender with his notice in the shape of criminal proceedings, and the government condescends to prosecute—how is it, it has been asked on such occasions, when the first talent, science, and practical skill, are all arranged against the unfortunate object of a nation's vengeance, that the course of justice should be ever broken or impeded? Is the machinery then set in motion in truth defective—is there some inherent vice in the construction of the state engine? Is the law weak when it should be strong? Is its boasted majesty, after all, nothing but the creation of a fond imagination, or a delusion of the past? Are the wheels of the state-machine no longer bright, polished, and fit for use as they once were? or are they choked and clogged with the rust and dust of accumulated ages? Or, if not in the machine, does the fault, ask others of these bold critics, rest with the workmen who guide and superintend its action? Are the principles of its construction now no longer known or understood? Are they, like those of the engines of the Syracusan philosopher, lost in the lapse of time? Is the crown less efficiently served than private individuals? and can it be possible, it has even been demanded, that those who are actively employed on these occasions have been so long removed on the practice of what is often deemed the simpler portion of the law, and so long employed in the higher and more abstruse branches of the science, that they have forgotten the practice of their youth, and have lost the knowledge acquired in the commencement of their professional career? Lesser criminals, it is said, are every day convicted with ease and expedition—how is it, therefore, that the cobweb of the law holds fast the small ephemeræ which chance to stray across its filmy mesh, but that the gaudy insect of larger form and greater strength so often breaks through, his flight perhaps arrested for a moment, as he feels the insidious toil fold close about him? It is, however, only for a moment; one mighty effort breaks his bonds—he is free—and flies off in triumph and derision, trumpeting forth his victory, and proclaiming his escape from the snare, in which it was hoped to encompass him. The astute and practised gentlemen thus suspected, strong in the consciousness of deep legal knowledge, and ready practical skill and science, may justly despise the petty attacks of those who affect to doubt their professional ability and attainments. Some in high places have not hesitated to hint, on one occasion, at collusion, and to assert, that a certain prosecution failed, because there was no real desire to punish.

Such is the substance of the various questions and speculations to which the legal events of the last thirteen years have given rise. We have now collected and enumerated them in a condensed form, for the purpose of tracing their rise and progress, and in order that we may demonstrate that, though there may possibly exist some reasons for these opinions, founded often on a misapprehension of the real circumstances of the cases quoted in their support, that they have, in fact, little or no substantial foundation. With this view, therefore, we shall briefly notice those trials, within the period of which we speak, which form the groundwork of these charges against the executive, before we proceed to state the real obstacles which do, in fact, occasionally oppose the smooth and rapid progress of a "State Prosecution."

The first of these proceedings, which occurred during the period of the last thirteen years, was the trial of Messrs O'Connell, Lawless, Steel, and others. This case perhaps originated the opinions which have partially prevailed, and was, in truth, not unlikely to make a permanent impression on the public mind. In the month of January 1831, true bills were found against these parties by the Grand Jury of Dublin, for assembling and meeting together for purposes prohibited by a proclamation of the Lord Lieutenant; and for conspiring to do an act forbidden by the law. By every possible device, by demurrers and inconsistent pleas, delays were interposed; and though Mr O'Connell withdrew a former plea of not guilty, and pleaded guilty to the counts to which he had at first demurred—though Mr Stanley, in the House of Commons, in reply to a question put by the Marquis of Chandos, emphatically declared, that it was impossible for the Irish government, consistently with their dignity as a government, to enter into any negotiation implying the remotest compromise with the defendants—and that it was the unalterable determination of the law-officers of Ireland to let the law take its course against Mr O'Connell—and that, let him act as he pleased, judgment would be passed against him—still, in spite of this determination of the government, so emphatically announced by the Irish Secretary, the statute on which the proceedings were founded was actually suffered to expire, without any previous steps having been taken against the state delinquents. There has ever been that degree of mystery about this event, which invariably rouses attention and excites curiosity; the escape of those parties was a great triumph over the powers, or the expressed inclinations of the government, which was well calculated to set the public mind at work to discover the latent causes which produced such strange and unexpected results. After an interval of seven years, another case occurred, which was not calculated materially to lessen the impression already made upon the public; for although, in the following instance, the prosecution was conducted to a successful termination, yet questions of such grave importance were raised, and fought with such ability, vigour, and determination, that the accomplishment of the ends of justice, if not prevented, was certainly long delayed.

On the 17th December 1838, twelve prisoners were brought to Liverpool, charged in execution of a sentence of transportation to Van Diemen's Land for having been concerned in the Canadian revolt. Here the offenders had been tried, convicted, sentenced, and actually transported. The prosecutors, therefore, might naturally be supposed to have got fairly into port, when they saw the objects of their tender solicitude fairly out of port, on their way to the distant land to which the offended laws of their country had consigned them.

If justice might not account her work as done, at a time when her victims had already traversed a thousand leagues of the wide Atlantic, when could it be expected that the law might take its course without further let or hindrance? On the 17th of December, as has been observed, the prisoners arrived at Liverpool, and were straightway consigned to the care and custody of Mr Batcheldor, the governor of the borough jail of Liverpool; by whom they were duly immured in the stronghold of the borough, and safely placed under lock and key. Things, however, did not long continue in this state. In a few days twelve writs of habeas corpus made their sudden and unexpected appearance, by which Mr Batcheldor was commanded forthwith to bring the bodies of his charges, together with the causes of detention, before the Lord Chief Justice of England. Mr Batcheldor obeyed the command in both particulars; the judges of the Court of Queen's Bench met; counsel argued and re-argued the matter before them, but in vain—the prisoners were left in the governor's care, in which they remained, as if no effort had been made to remove then from his custody. All, however, was not yet over; for, as though labouring under a strange delusion, four of the prisoners actually made oath that they had never been arraigned, tried, convicted, or sentenced at all, either in Canada or elsewhere! Upon this four more writs of habeas corpus issued, commanding the unhappy Mr Batcheldor to bring the four deluded convicts before the Barons of the Exchequer. This was done; arguments, both old and new, were heard with exemplary patience and attention; the play was played over again; but the Barons were equally inexorable with the Court of Queen's Bench, and the four prisoners, after much consideration, were again remanded to the custody of the governor of the jail, and, together with their eight fellow-prisoners, were, in course of time, duly conveyed to the place of their original destination.

The next of these cases, in chronological order, is that of the Monmouthshire riots in 1839. This case, also, might tend to corroborate the opinion, that the service of the state, in legal matters, is attended with much difficulty and embarrassment. It will, however, be seen upon examination of the facts of the case, that the difficulty which then arose, proceeded solely from the lenity and indulgence shown to the prisoners by the crown. On New-Year's day 1840, John Frost and others, were brought to trial, on a charge of high treason, before a special commission at Monmouth. The proceedings were interrupted by an objection taken by the prisoners' counsel, that the terms of a statute, which requires that a list of witnesses should be delivered to the prisoners at the same time with a copy of the indictment, had not been complied with. The indictment had, in fact, been delivered five days before the list of witnesses. This had been done in merciful consideration to the prisoners, in order that they might be put in possession of the charge, to be brought against them, as early as it was in the power of the crown to give them the information, and probably before it was possible that the list of witnesses could have been made out. The trial, however, proceeded, subject to the decision of the fifteen judges upon the question, thus raised upon the supposed informality, which nothing but the anxious mercy of the crown had introduced into the proceedings; and the parties were found guilty of the offence laid to their charge. In the ensuing term, all other business was, for a time, suspended; and the fifteen judges of the land, with all the stately majesty of the judicial office, were gathered together in solemn conclave in Westminster Hall. A goodly array, tier above tier they sat—the heavy artillery of a vast legal battery about to open the fire of their learning, with that imposing dignity which becomes the avengers of the country's and the sovereign's wrongs. Day after day they met, heard, and deliberated upon arguments, which were conspicuous from their consummate learning and ability. At length these learned persons delivered their judgments, and, amid much diversity of opinion, the majority thought, upon the whole, that the conviction was right, and that the terms of the statute had been virtually complied with. The criminals, however, probably in consequence of the doubts and difficulty of the case, were absolved on the most highly penal consequences of their crime, and were, by a sort of compromise, transported for life to one of the penal settlements.

The doubt which some have entertained of the real insanity of Oxford, and others who have recently attempted the same crime which he so nearly committed, has caused these cases also to be brought forward in confirmation of the opinions, which we contend rest upon no real foundation. The insanity of a prisoner is, however, a fact, upon which it is the province of the jury to decide, under the direction of the presiding judge. In each case the law was luminously laid down by the judge for the guidance of the jury, who were fully instructed as to what the law required to establish the insanity of its prisoner, and to prove that "lesion of the will" which would render a human being irresponsible for his acts. These verdicts, undoubtedly, gave rise to a grave discussion, whether the law, as it now stands, was sufficiently stringent to have reached these cases; and though this question was decided in the affirmative, the mere entertaining of the doubt afforded another specious confirmation of the impression, that a singular fatality was attendant upon a state prosecution. This idea received another support from the case of Lord Cardigan, who, about this period, was unexpectedly acquitted, on technical grounds, from a grave and serious charge. This, however, was no state prosecution, and we do but notice it, en passant, in corroboration of our general argument.

We now come to the case of the Chartists in 1842. For some time previous to the summer of 1842, great distress, it will be remembered, prevailed among the manufacturing population of the northern and midland counties. The misery of the preceding winter had been dreadful in the extreme; emaciated, haggard beings might be daily seen wandering about the country half naked, in the coldest weather; sufferings, almost without a parallel, were borne with patience and resignation. Despair there might be in the hearts of thousands, but those thousands were mute and passive in their misery; all was dark, all was hopeless; the wintry wind of penury blew untempered, keen upon them, but still they cried not; hunger preyed upon their very vitals, but they uttered no complaint. Let us not, even now, refuse a passing tribute of honour and respect to the passive heroism which in many an instance marked the endurance of the hopeless misery of those dreadful times. At length, however, evil and designing men came among the sufferers—remedies for the pressing evil, and means of escape from the wretchedness of their condition, were darkly hinted at; redress was whispered to be near, and they, the hungry fathers of famished children, lent a greedy ear to the fair promises of men whom they deemed wiser than themselves. The tempter's seedtime had arrived, the ground was ready, and the seed was sown. Day by day, nay, hour by hour, was the bud of disaffection fostered with the greatest care; and, day by day, its strength and vitality increased. When, at length, the people were deemed ripe for action, the mask was thrown off, treasonable schemes and projects were openly proclaimed by the leaders of the coming movement, and echoed, from a hundred hills, by vast multitudes of their deluded followers. Large meetings were daily held on the neighbouring moors, where bodies of men were openly trained and armed for active and offensive operations. At length the insurrection, for such in truth it was, broke forth. Then living torrents of excited and exasperated men poured down those hillsides; the peaceful and well-affected were compelled to join the insurgent ranks, busy in the work of destruction and intimidation; when each evening brought the work of havoc to a temporary close, they laid them down to rest where the darkness overtook them. The roads were thus continually blockaded, and those who, under cover of the night, sought to obtain aid and assistance from less disturbed districts, were often interrupted and turned back by bodies of these men. Authority was at an end, and a large extensive district was completely at the mercy of reckless multitudes, burning to avenge the sufferings of the past, and bent on preventing, as they thought, a recurrence of them in future. The very towns were in their hands; "in an evil hour" a vast body of insurgents was "admitted" into one of the largest mercantile towns of the kingdom, where they pillaged and laid waste in every direction. In another town of the district a fearful riot was put down by force, some of the leaders of the mob being shot dead while heading a charge upon the military. The ascendancy of the law was at length asserted; many arrests took place; the jails were crowded with prisoners; and the multitudes without, deserted by those to whom they had looked up for advice, their friends in prison, with the unknown terrors of the law suspended over them, probably then felt that, miserable and lost as they had been before, they had now fallen even lower in the scale of human misery. Criminal proceedings were quickly instituted. Several commissions were sent down to the districts in which these disturbances had take place, in order that the offenders might meet with speedy punishment. The law officers of the crown, with many and able assistants, in person conducted the proceedings. Temperate, mild, dignified, and forbearing was their demeanour; in no case was the individual the object of prosecution; it was the crime, through the person of the criminal, against which the government proceeded. No feelings of a personal nature were there exhibited; and a mild, but firm, as it were, a parental correction of erring and misguided children, seemed to be the sole object of those who then represented the government. Conviction was heaped upon conviction—sentence followed sentence—the miserable tool was distinguished from the man who made him what he was—the active emissary, the secret conspirator, also received each their proportionate amount of punishment. True, a few of the more cautious and crafty, all included in one indictment, eventually escaped the penalty due to their crimes; but, among the multitude of cases which were then tried, this was, we believe, the only instance even of partial failure. In spite of this single miscarriage of the government, the great object of these proceedings was completely answered; the end of all punishment was attained; the vengeance which the law then took had all the effect which the most condign punishment of these few men could have accomplished; the constitutional maxim of "poena ad paucos, metus ad omnes," has been amply illustrated by these proceedings; Chartism has been suppressed, by the temperate application of the constitutional means which were then resorted to for the correction of its violence, and the prevention of its seditious schemes.

We must not omit to mention the instances of signal and complete success which have been, from time to time, exhibited in other prosecutions against Feargus O'Connor and different members of the Chartist body, within the period of which we speak. On none of these occasions has the course of justice been hindered, or even turned aside; but the defendants have, we believe, without exception, paid the penalty of their crimes by enduring the punishments awarded by the court.

The recent trials of the Rebecca rioters were also signally successful and effective; and the prejudices of a Welsh jury, which some feared would prove a fatal stumblingblock, were overcome by the dispassionate appeal to their better judgment then made by the officers of the crown.

From a review of the cases, it therefore appears, that the failures of a state prosecution have been comparatively few; and that the crown has met with even more than the average success which the "glorious uncertainty of the law" in general permits to those who tempt its waywardness, and risk the perils of defeat. The welfare and interest of the nation, however, lie in the general results of these proceedings, rather than the particular event of an individual trial. Therefore, though we should assume that a part only of what was intended has been accomplished, still if that portion produces the same general results as were hoped for from the successful accomplishment of the whole, the object of the government has been attained. Now, it may be observed, that, with perhaps the single exception of the case of Mr O'Connell in 1831, the end and object of all state prosecution has been uniformly and completely accomplished, by the suppression of the evil which the crown in each instance was anxious to put down. When this has taken place, there can have been no failure. Beyond what is necessary for the welfare of the state, and the general safety and security of the persons and property of individuals, the crown has no interest in inflicting punishment; it never asks for more than is required to effect these objects, and it can scarcely be content with less.