H is for Hulks . . .

And not the Incredible Hulk of movie fame.

Before the American Revolution, English courts, instead of flogging and branding prisoners for minor offenses, transported them to the American colonies. This was a lucrative business for jailers who sold prisoners to shippers who, in turn, sold them to landowners for 7 or 14 years. After the American Revolution, the English prisons were as crowded as ever -- with no place for prisoners to go. Newgate and local jails throughout the country were full to the bursting.

The Thames was lined with old ships, no rigging, no sails, "rotting at anchor" (Hughes, The Fatal Shore, 42). But the Hulks Act (1776) stated prisoners could be kept on these old ships, 'reclaimed' through 'Hard Labour' and assigned out daily in work gangs (Hughes 42-43), before being shipped to New South Wales or Van Diemen's Land to serve out their sentence. But shameful overcrowding led to riots on the hulks, protests from neighboring towns, and what propelled change -- the threat of prisoners escaping, carrying with them gaol fever.

So the British government approved contracts that shipped convicts to NSW and Van Diemen's Land, a four month voyage marked by crowded sleeping space, contaminated food in short supply, and armed guards to prevent insurrection. Sometimes several months passed before all the convicts were loaded on the ships. Men, women, and children arrived in London from all parts of England, some in irons, exhausted from their journey. Such prisoners were often leg-shackled and chained atop the coaches in all kinds of weather. Once aboard the hulks, nearly all, including children, faced some sort of fetters, described by Hughes as "a 14-pound iron" on the right ankle as an impediment to escape (140). If the prisoner (or the family) could not afford to bribe the guards, the irons could be heavier. These were worn constantly even as the prisoner was released to work gangs.

Once they were aboard the hulk, prisoners could expect to be robbed by the officers, their new cell mates, and threatened with flogging or the Black Hole for any breach of discipline. Prisoners with money could gain better conditions, but when a prisoner died, even his body could be sold for dissection.

I've read several accounts of the early landings in New South Wales that said the prisoners stumbled ashore, starving, and hardly able to care for themselves. Most had been convicted of theft, and the women, though none in the first ships were transported for prostitution, often improved their conditions through liaisons with the crew, becoming 'sea wives.'

Hughes reports the average age of convicts was 27, and that due to extreme deprivation, 1 man in 10 died on the Third Fleet's voyage, with the rest "so emaciated, so worn away", they were unfit to work. Some 162,000 prisoners were thus sent to Australia before transportation ended in 1853 (Hughes 73, 105, 143).

A grim history and grim grist for my tale. . .

E is for Exile . . .

When I was in college, my favorite course (other than any writing class), was 'The Economic History of Great Britain.' Not understanding economics at all, even my own, I sat next to two young men who had bought a 25-pound bag of rice to see them through the term. There's more to the story, but here is where I began to learn about the Industrial Revolution and its devastating effect on average people, what purists call the working class.

While many of those transported to Van Diemen's Land may have been thieves, prostitutes, or murderers, some were radical, courageously protesting the wholesale industrialization in farming and manufacture that left thousands without work. Class distinctions were sharp during the 19th Century, and Malthus' ideas that 'we do not feed the poor; they will breed' were popular among the upper class. In the 1830s, protests rose against enclosures (that taking away of common land generally to raise sheep), mechanization, against high prices for corn and wheat, and against farmers who instead of giving workers wheat (which could be made into bread), gave them potatoes (which backfired in the later Potato Famine) (Hughes 197-200).

But violent unrest became common 1830-1831. Robert Hughes in The Fatal Shore reports that the Whig government in addition to offering a bounty of L500 "for the capture and conviction of arsonists and machine-breakers," began prosecuting these rioters. About 2,000 from 34 counties in the south of England were arrested; 252 were sentenced to death; but thanks to the 'Royal Mercy' only 19 were hanged; and 481 of this group were transported to Australia -- exiled for 7 or 14 years (199).

Some of these exiles may have been in the prisons of Van Diemen's Land and will somehow appear in my story.

Book of the day:  Robert Hughes also reports that  Thomas Cook, a soliciter's clerk who wrote an impassioned and threatening letter to a cabinetmaker, was arrested at age 18 and sentenced to 14 years; he wrote The Exile's Lamentations. Ah, if I were in Australia, I could check this out at my local library. This book is not yet online (not at Project Gutenberg: Australia); it's not available through amazon, a copy sold on e-bay for $75. Trove reports the book is available at 35 libraries, so I will hold my hopes out for interlibrary loan.

An excerpt may be read here.

Publication info:  Cook, Thomas. The Exile's Lamentations. Illustrated. Library of Australian History, 1978. ISBN 0908120141, 9780908120147. 131 pages.

Now back to work!