DEPORTATION, or Transportation, a system of punishment for crime, of which the essential factor is the removal of the criminal to a penal settlement outside his own country. It is to be distinguished from mere expulsion (q.v.) from a country, though the term “deportation” is now used in that sense in English law under the Aliens Act 1905 (see Alien). Strictly, the deportation or transportation system has ceased to exist in England, though the removal or exclusion of undesirable persons from British territory, under various Orders in Council, is possible in places subject to the Foreign Jurisdiction Acts, and in the case of criminals under the Extradition Acts.
Earlier British Transportation System.—At a time when the British statute-book bristled with capital felonies, when the pick-pocket or sheep-stealer was hanged out of hand, when Sir Samuel Romilly, to whose strenuous exertions the amelioration of the penal code is in a great measure due, declared that the laws of England were written in blood, another and less sanguinary penalty came into great favour. The deportation of criminals beyond the seas grew naturally out of the laws which prescribed banishment for certain offences. The Vagrancy Act of Elizabeth’s reign contained in it the germ of transportation, by empowering justices in quarter sessions to banish offenders and order them to be conveyed into such parts beyond the seas as should be assigned by the privy council. Full effect was given to this statute in the next reign, as is proved by a letter of James I. American plantations.dated 1619, in which the king directs “a hundred dissolute persons” to be sent to Virginia. Another act of similar tenor was passed in the reign of Charles II., in which the term “transportation” appears to have been first used. A further and more systematic development of the system of transportation took place in 1617, when an act was passed by which offenders who had escaped the death penalty were handed over to contractors, who engaged to transport them to the American colonies. These contractors were vested with a property in the labour of the convicts for a certain term, generally from seven to fourteen years, and this right they frequently sold. Labour in those early days was scarce in the new settlements; and before the general adoption of negro slavery there was a keen competition for felon hands. An organized system of kidnapping prevailed along the British coasts; young lads were seized and sold into what was practically white slavery in the American plantations. These malpractices were checked, but the legitimate traffic in convict labour continued, until it was ended peremptorily by the revolt of the American colonies and the achievement of their independence in 1776.[1]
The British legislature, making a virtue of necessity, discovered that transportation to the colonies was bound to be attended by various inconveniences, particularly by depriving the kingdom of many subjects whose labour might be useful to the community; and an act was accordingly passed which provides that convicts sentenced to transportation might be employed at hard labour at home. At the same time the consideration of some scheme for their disposal was entrusted to three eminent public men—Sir William Blackstone, Mr Eden (afterwards Lord Auckland) and John Howard. The result of their labours was an act for the establishment of penitentiary houses, dated 1778. This act is of peculiar importance. It contains the first public enunciation of a general principle of prison treatment, and shows that even at that early date the system since nearly universally adopted was fully understood. The object in view was thus stated. It was hoped “by sobriety, cleanliness and medical assistance, by a regular series of labour, by solitary confinement during the intervals of work and by due religious instruction to preserve and amend the health of the unhappy offenders, to inure them to habits of industry, to guard them from pernicious company, to accustom them to serious reflection and to teach them both the principles and practice of every Christian and moral duty.” The experience of succeeding years has added little to these the true principles of penal discipline; they form the basis of every species of prison system carried out since the passing of an act of 1779.
No immediate action was taken by the committee appointed. Its members were not in accord as to the choice of site. One was for Islington, another for Limehouse; Howard only stipulated for some healthy place well supplied with water and conveniently situated for supervision. He was strongly of opinion that the penitentiary should be built by convict labour. Howard withdrew from the commission, and new members were appointed, who were on the eve of beginning the first penitentiary when the discoveries of Captain Cook in the South Seas turned the attention of the government towards these new lands. The vast territories Australian penal settlements.of Australasia promised an unlimited field for convict colonization, and for the moment the scheme for penitentiary houses fell to the ground. Public opinion generally preferred the idea of establishing penal settlements at a distance from home. “There was general confidence,” says Merivale in his work on colonization, “in the favourite theory that the best mode of punishing offenders was that which removed them from the scene of offence and temptation, cut them off by a great gulf of space from all their former connexions, and gave them the opportunity of redeeming past crimes by becoming useful members of society.” These views so far prevailed that an expedition consisting of nine transports and two men-of-war, the “first fleet” of Australian annals, sailed in March 1787 for New South Wales. This first fleet reached Botany Bay in January 1788, but passed on and landed at Port Jackson, where it entered and occupied Sydney harbour. From that time forward convicts were sent in constantly increasing numbers from England to the Antipodes. Yet the early settlement at Sydney had not greatly prospered. The infant colony had had a bitter struggle for existence. It had been hoped that the community would raise its own produce and speedily become self-supporting. But the soil was unfruitful; the convicts knew nothing of farming. All lived upon rations sent out from home; and when convoys with relief lingered by the way famine stared all in the face. The colony was long a penal settlement and nothing more, peopled only by two classes, convicts and their masters; criminal bondsmen on the one hand who had forfeited their independence and were bound to labour without wages for the state, on the other officials to guard and exact the due performance of tasks. A few free families were encouraged to emigrate, but they were lost in the mass they were intended to leaven, swamped and outnumbered by the convicts, shiploads of whom continued to pour in year after year. When the influx increased, difficulties as to their employment arose. Free settlers were too few to give work to more than a small proportion. Moreover, a new policy was in the ascendant, initiated by Governor Macquarie, who considered the convicts and their rehabilitation his chief care, and steadily discouraged the immigration of any but those who “came out for their country’s good.” The great bulk of the convict labour thus remained in government hands.
This period marked the first phase in the history of transportation. The penal colony, having triumphed over early dangers and difficulties, was crowded with convicts in a state of semi-freedom, maintained at the public expense and utilized in the development of the latent resources of the country. The methods employed by Governor Macquarie were not, perhaps, invariably the best; the time was hardly ripe as yet for the erection of palatial buildings in Sydney, while the congregation of the workmen in large bodies tended greatly to their demoralization. But some of the works undertaken and carried out were of incalculable service to the young colony; and its early advance in wealth and prosperity was greatly due to the magnificent roads, bridges and other facilities of inter-communication for which it was indebted to Governor Macquarie. As time passed the criminal sewage flowing from the Old World to the New greatly increased in volume under milder and more humane laws. Many now escaped the gallows, and much of the overcrowding of the gaols at home was caused by the gangs of convicts awaiting transhipment to the Antipodes. They were packed off, however, with all convenient despatch, and the numbers on government hands in the colonies multiplied exceedingly, causing increasing embarrassment as to their disposal. Moreover, the expense of the Australian convict establishments was enormous.
Some change in system was inevitable, and the plan of “assignment” was introduced; in other words, that of freely lending the convicts to any who would relieve the authorities of the burdensome charge. By this time free settlers were arriving in greater number, invited by a different and more Assignment system.liberal policy than that of Governor Macquarie. Inducements were especially offered to persons possessed of capital to assist in the development of the country. Assignment developed rapidly; soon eager competition arose for the convict hands that had been at first so reluctantly taken. Great facilities existed for utilizing them on the wide areas of grazing land and on the new stations in the interior. A pastoral life, without temptations and contaminating influences, was well suited for convicts. As the colony grew richer and more populous, other than agricultural employers became assignees, and numerous enterprises were set on foot. The trades and callings which minister to the needs of all civilized communities were more and more largely pursued. There was plenty of work for skilled convicts in the towns, and the services of the more intelligent were highly prized. It was a great boon to secure gratis the assistance of men specially trained as clerks, book-keepers or handicraftsmen. Hence all manner of intrigues and manœuvres were afoot on the arrival of drafts and there was a scramble for the best hands. Here at once was a palpable flaw in the system of assignment. The lot of the convict was altogether unequal. Some, the dull, unlettered and unskilled, were drafted up country to heavy manual labour at which they remained, while clever expert rogues found pleasant, congenial and often profitable employment in the towns. The contrast was very marked from the first, but it became the more apparent when in due course it was seen that some were still engaged in irksome toil, while others who had come out by the same ship had already attained to affluence and ease. For the latter transportation was no punishment, but often the reverse. It meant too often transfer to a new world under conditions more favourable to success, removed from the keener competition of the old. By adroit management, too, convicts often obtained the command of funds, the product of nefarious transactions at home, which wives or near relatives or unconvicted accomplices presently brought out to them. It was easy for the free new-comers to secure the assignment of their convict friends; and the latter, although still nominally servants and in the background, at once assumed the real control. Another system productive of much evil was the employment of convict clerks in positions of trust in various government offices; convicts did much of the legal work of the colony; a convict was clerk to the attorney general; others were schoolmasters and were entrusted with the education of youth.
Under a system so anomalous and uncertain the main object of transportation as a method of penal discipline and repression was in danger of being quite overlooked. Yet the state could not entirely abdicate its functions, although it surrendered to a great extent the care of criminals to Evils of convict system.private persons. It had established a code of penalties for the coercion of the ill-conducted, while it kept the worst perforce in its own hands. The master was always at liberty to appeal to the strong arm of the law. A message carried to a neighbouring magistrate, often by the culprit himself, brought down the prompt retribution of the lash. Convicts might be flogged for petty offences, for idleness, drunkenness, turbulence, absconding and so forth. At the out-stations some show of decorum and regularity was observed, although the work done was generally scanty and the convicts were secretly given to all manner of evil courses. The town convicts were worse, because they were far less controlled. They were nominally under the surveillance and supervision of the police, which amounted to nothing at all. They came and went, and amused themselves after working hours, so that Sydney and all the large towns were hotbeds of vice and immorality. The masters as a rule made no attempt to watch over their charges; many of them were absolutely unfitted to do so, being themselves of low character, “emancipists” frequently, old convicts conditionally pardoned or who had finished their terms. No effort was made to prevent the assignment of convicts to improper persons; every applicant got what he wanted, even though his own character would not bear inspection. All whom the masters could not manage—the incorrigible upon whom the lash and bread and water had been tried in vain—were returned to government charge. These, in short, comprised the whole of the refuse of colonial convictdom. Every man who could not agree with his master, or who was to undergo a penalty greater than flogging or less than capital punishment, came back to government and was disposed of in one of three ways, (1) the road parties, (2) the chain gang, or (3) the penal settlements. (1) In the first case, the convicts might be kept in the vicinity of the towns or marched about the country according to the work in hand; the labour was severe, but, owing to inefficient supervision, never intolerable; the diet was ample and there was no great restraint upon independence within certain wide limits. To the slackness of control over the road parties was directly traceable the frequent escape of desperadoes, who, defying recapture, recruited the gangs of bushrangers which were a constant terror to the whole country. In (2) the chain or iron gangs, as they were sometimes styled, discipline was far more rigorous. It was maintained by the constant presence of a military guard, and when most efficiently organized the gang was governed by a military officer who was also a magistrate. The work was really hard, the custody close—in hulk, stockaded barrack or caravan; the first was at Sydney, the second in the interior, the last when the undertaking required constant change of place. All were locked up from sunset to sunrise; all wore heavy leg irons; and all were liable to immediate flagellation. The convict “scourger” was one of the regular officials attached to every chain gang. (3) The third and ultimate receptacle was the penal settlement, to which no offenders were transferred till all other methods of treatment had failed. These were terrible cesspools of iniquity, so bad that it seemed, to use the words of one who knew them well, that “the heart of a man who went to them was taken from him and he was given that of a beast.” The horrors accumulated at Norfolk Island, Moreton Bay, Port Arthur and Tasman’s Peninsula are almost beyond description. The convicts herded together in them were soon utterly degraded and brutalized; no wonder that reckless despair took possession of them, that death on the gallows for murder purposely committed, or the slow terror from starvation following escape into surrounding wilds was often welcomed as a relief.
The stage which transportation was now reaching and the actual condition of affairs in the Australian colonies about this period do not appear to have been much understood in England. Earnest and thoughtful men might busy themselves with prison discipline at home, and the legislature might watch with peculiar interest the results obtained from the special treatment of a limited number of selected offenders in Millbank penitentiary. But for the great mass of criminality deported to a distant shore no very active concern was shown. The country for a long time seemed satisfied with transportation. Portions of the system might be open to criticism. Thus the Commons committee of 1832 freely condemned the hulks at Woolwich and other arsenals in which a large number of convicts were kept while waiting embarkation. It was reported that the indiscriminate association of prisoners in them produced more vice, profaneness and demoralization than in the ordinary prisons. After dark the wildest orgies went on unchecked—dancing, fighting, gambling, singing and so forth; it was easy to get drink and tobacco and to see friends from outside. The labour hours were short and the tasks light; “altogether the situation of the convict in the hulks,” says the report, “cannot be considered penal; it is a state of restriction, but hardly of punishment.”
But no objection was raised to transportation. It was considered by this same committee “a most valuable expedient in the system of secondary punishment.” They only thought it necessary to suggest that exile should be preceded by a period of severe probationary punishment in England, a proposal which was reiterated later on and actually adopted. It was in the country most closely affected that dissatisfaction first began to find voice. Already in 1832 the most reputable sections of Australian society were beginning to murmur grievously. Transportation had fostered the growth of a strong party—that representing convict views—and these were advocated boldly in Australian objections.unprincipled prints. This party, constantly recruited from the emancipists and ticket-of-leave holders, gradually grew very numerous, and threatened soon to swamp the honest and untainted parts of the community. As years passed the prevalence of crime, and the universally low tone of morality due to the convict element, became more and more in the ascendant. At length in 1835 Judge Burton made a loud protest, and in a charge to the grand jury of Sydney plainly intimated that transportation must cease. While it existed, he said, the colonies could never rise to their proper position; they could not claim free institutions. This bold but forcible language commanded attention. It was speedily echoed in England, and particularly by Archbishop Whately, who argued that transportation failed in all the leading requisites of any system of secondary punishment. Transportation exercised no salutary terror in offenders; it was no longer exile to an unknown inhospitable region, but to one flowing with milk and honey, whither innumerable friends and associates had gone already. The most glowing descriptions came back of the wealth which any clever fellow might easily amass; stories were told and names mentioned of those who had made ample fortunes in Australia in a few years. As a matter of fact the convicts, or at least large numbers of them, had prospered exceedingly. Some had incomes of twenty, thirty, even forty thousand pounds a year. The deteriorating effects of the system were plainly manifest on the surface from the condition of the colony,—the profligacy of the towns, the scant reprobation of crimes and those who had committed them. Down below, in the openly sanctioned slavery called assignment, in the demoralizing chain gangs and in the inexpressibly horrible penal settlements, were more abundant and more awful proofs of the general wickedness and corruption. Moreover these appalling results were accompanied by colossal expenditure. The cost of the colonial convict establishments, with the passages out, amounted annually to upwards of £300,000; another £100,000 was expended on the military garrisons; and various items brought the whole outlay to about half a million per annum. It may be argued that this was not a heavy price to pay for peopling a continent and laying the foundations of a vast Australasian empire. But that empire could never have expanded to its present dimensions if it had depended on convict immigration alone. There was a point, too, at which all development, all progress, would have come to a full stop had it not been relieved of its stigma as a penal colony.
That point was reached between 1835 and 1840, when a powerful party came into existence in New South Wales, pledged to bring about the abandonment of transportation. A strongly hostile feeling was also gaining ground in England. In 1837 a new committee of the House of Commons had Reform movement.made a patient and searching investigation into the merits and demerits of the system and freely condemned it. The government had no choice but to give way; it could not ignore the protests of the colonists, backed up by such an authoritative expression of opinion. In 1840 orders were issued to suspend the deportation of criminals to New South Wales. But what was to become of the convicts? It was impossible to keep them at home. The hulks which might have served had also failed; the faultiness of their internal management had been fully proved. The committee had recommended the erection of more penitentiaries. But the costly experiment of Millbank had been barren of results. The model prison at Pentonville, in process of construction under the pressure of a movement towards prison reform, could offer but limited accommodation. A proposal was put forward to construct convict barracks in the vicinity of the great arsenals; but this, which contained really the germ of the present British penal system, was premature. The government in this dilemma steered a middle course and resolved to adhere to transportation, but under a greatly modified and it was hoped much improved form. The colony of Van Diemen’s Land, younger and less self-reliant than its neighbour, had also endured convict immigration but had made no protest. It was resolved to direct the whole stream of deportation upon Van Diemen’s Land, which was thus constituted one vast colonial prison. The main principle of the new system was one of probation; hence its name. All convicts were to pass through various stages and degrees of punishment according to their conduct and character. Some general depot was needed where the necessary observation could be made, and it was found at Millbank penitentiary. Thence boys were sent to the prison for juveniles at Parkhurst; the most promising subjects among the adults were selected to undergo the experimental discipline of solitude and separation at Pentonville; less hopeful cases went to the hulks; and all adults alike passed on to the Antipodes. Fresh stages awaited the convict on his arrival at Van Diemen’s Land. The first was limited to “lifers” and colonial convicts sentenced a second time. It consisted in detention at one of the penal stations, either Norfolk Island or Tasman’s Peninsula, where the disgraceful conditions already described continued unchanged to the very last. The second stage received the largest number, who were subjected in it to gang labour, working under restraint in various parts of the colony. These probation stations, as they were called, were intended to inculcate habits of industry and subordination; they were provided with supervisors and religious instructors; and had they not been tainted by the vicious virus brought to them by others arriving from the penal stations, they might have answered their purpose for a time. But they became as bad as the worst of the penal settlements and contributed greatly to the breakdown of the whole system. The third stage and the first step towards freedom was the concession of a pass which permitted the convict to be at large under certain conditions to seek work for himself; the fourth was a ticket-of-leave, the possession of which allowed him to come and go much as he pleased; the fifth and last was absolute pardon, with the prospects of rehabilitation.
This scheme seemed admirable on paper; yet it failed completely when put into practice. Colonial resources were quite unable to bear the pressure. Within two or three years Van Diemen’s Land was inundated with convicts. Sixteen thousand were sent out in four years; the Gradual abandonment.average annual number in the colony was about 30,000, and this when there were only 37,000 free settlers. Half the whole number of convicts remained in government hands and were kept in the probation gangs, engaged upon public works of great utility; but the other half, pass-holders and ticket-of-leave men in a state of semi-freedom, could get little or no employment. The supply greatly exceeded the demand; there were no hirers of labour. Had the colony been as large and as prosperous as its neighbour it could scarcely have absorbed the glut of workmen; but it was really on the verge of bankruptcy—its finances were embarrassed, its trades and industries at a standstill. But not only were the convicts idle; they were utterly depraved. It was soon found that the system which kept large bodies always together had a most pernicious effect upon their moral condition. “The congregation of criminals in large batches without adequate supervision meant simply wholesale, widespread pollution,” as was said at the time. These ever-present and constantly increasing evils forced the government to reconsider its position; and in 1846 transportation to Van Diemen’s Land was temporarily suspended for a couple of years, during which it was hoped some relief might be afforded. The formation of a new convict colony in North Australia had been contemplated; but the project, warmly espoused by Mr Gladstone, then under-secretary of state for the colonies, was presently abandoned; and it now became clear that no resumption of transportation was possible. The measures taken to substitute other methods of secondary punishment are set forth in the article Prison (q.v.).
France.—France adopted deportation for criminals as far back as 1763, when a penal colony was founded in French Guiana and failed disastrously. An expedition was sent there, composed of the most evil elements of the Paris population and numbering 14,000, all of whom died. The French practice.attempt was repeated in 1766 and with the same miserable result. Other failures are recorded, the worst being the scheme of the philanthropist Baron Milius, who in 1823 planned to form a community on the banks of the Mana (French Guiana) by the marriage of exiled convicts and degraded women, which resulted in the most ghastly horrors. The principle of deportation was then formally condemned by publicists and government until suddenly in 1854 it was reintroduced into the French penal code with many high-sounding phrases. Splendid results were to be achieved in the creation of rich colonies afar, and the regeneration of the criminal by new openings in a new land. The only outlet available at the moment beyond the sea was French Guiana, and it was again to be utilized despite its pestilential climate. Thousands were exiled, more than half to find certain death; none of the penal settlements prospered. No return was made by agricultural development, farms and plantations proved a dead loss under the unfavourable conditions of labour enforced in a malarious climate and unkindly soil, and it was acknowledged by French officials that the attempt to establish a penal colony on the equator was utterly futile. Deportation to Guiana was not abandoned, but instead of native-born French exiles, convicts of subject races, Arabs, Anamites and Asiatic blacks, were sent exclusively, with no better success as regards colonization.
In 1864, however, it was possible to divert the stream elsewhere. New Caledonia in the Australian Pacific was annexed to France in 1853. Ten years later it became a new settlement for convict emigrants. A first shipload was disembarked in 1864 at Noumea, and the foundations of the city laid. Prison buildings were the first erected and were planted upon the island of Nou, a small breakwater to the Bay of Noumea. Outwardly all went well under the fostering care of the authorities. The population steadily increased; an average total of 600 in 1867 rose in the following year to 1554. In 1874 the convict population exceeded 5000; in 1880 it had risen to 8000; the total reached 9608 at the end of December 1883. But from that time forward the numbers transported annually fell, for it was found that this South Pacific island, with its fertile soil and fairly temperate climate, by no means intimidated the dangerous classes; and the French administration therefore resumed deportation of French-born whites to Guiana, which was known as notoriously unhealthy and was likely to act as a more positive deterrent. The authorities divided their exiles between the two outlets, choosing New Caledonia for the convicts who gave some promise of regeneration, and sending criminals with the worst antecedents and presumably incorrigible to the settlements on the equator. This was in effect to hand over a fertile colony entirely to criminals. Free immigration to New Caledonia was checked, and the colony became almost exclusively penal. The natural growth of a prosperous colonial community made no advance, and convict labour did little to stimulate it, the public works, essential for development, and construction of roads were neglected; there was no extensive clearance of lands, no steady development of agriculture. From 1898 simple deportation practically ceased, but the islands were full of convicts already sent, and they still received the product of the latest invention in the criminal code known as “relegation,” a punishment directed against the recidivist or incorrigible criminal whom no penal retribution had hitherto touched and whom the French law felt justified in banishing for ever to the “back of beyond.” A certain period of time spent in a hard labour prison preceded relegation, but the convicts on arrival were generally unfitted to assist in colonization. They were for the most part decadent, morally and physically; their labour was of no substantial value to colonists or themselves, and there was small hope of profitable result when they gained conditional liberation, with a concession of colonial land and a possibility of rehabilitation by their own efforts abroad, for by their sentence they were forbidden to hope for return to France. The punishment of relegation was not long in favour, the number of sentences to it fell year after year, and it has now been practically abandoned.
Other Countries.—Penal exile has been practised by some other countries as a method of secondary punishment. Russia since 1823 has directed a stream of offenders, mainly political, upon Siberia, and at one time the yearly average sent was 18,000. The Siberian exile system, the horrors of which cannot be exaggerated, belongs only in part to penitentiary science, but it was very distinctly punitive and aimed at regeneration of the individual and the development of the soil by new settlements. Although the journey was made mostly on foot and not by sea transport, the principle of deportation (or more exactly of removal) was the essence of the system. The later practice, however, has been exactly similar to transportation as originated by England and afterwards followed by France. The penal colonization of the island of Sakhalin reproduced the preceding methods, and the Russian convicts were conveyed by ships through the Suez Canal to the Far East. Sakhalin was hopefully intended as an outlet for released convicts and their rehabilitation by their own efforts, precisely in the manner tried in Australia and New Caledonia. The result repeated previous experiences. There was land to reclaim, forests to cut down, marshes to drain, everything but a temperate climate and a good will of the felon labourers to create a prosperous colony. But the convicts would not work; a few sought to win the right to occupy a concession of soil, but the bulk were pure vagabonds, wandering to and fro in search of food. The agricultural enterprise was a complete failure. The wrong sites for cultivation were chosen, the labourers were unskilled and they handled very indifferent tools. Want amounting to constant starvation was a constant rule; the rations were insufficient and unwholesome, very little meat eked out with salt fish and with entire absence of vegetables. The general tone of morals was inconceivably low, and a universal passion for alcohol and card-playing prevailed. According to one authority the life of the convicts at Sakhalin was a frightful nightmare, “a mixture of debauchery and innocence mixed with real sufferings and almost inconceivable privations, corrupt in every one of its phases.” The prisons hopelessly ruined all who entered them, all classes were indiscriminately herded together. It is now generally allowed that deportation, as practised, had utterly failed, the chief reasons being the unmanageable numbers sent and the absence of outlets for their employment, even at great cost.
The prisons on Sakhalin have been described as hotbeds of vice; the only classification of prisoners is one based on the length of sentence. Some imperfect attempt is made to separate those waiting trial from the recidivist or hardened offender, but too often the association is indiscriminate. Prison discipline is generally slack and ineffective, the staff of warders, from ill-judged economy, too weak to supervise or control. The officers themselves are of inferior stamp, drunken, untrustworthy, overbearing, much given to “trafficking” with the prisoners, accepting bribes to assist escape, quick to misuse and oppress their charges. Crime of the worst description is common.
Italy has practised deportation in planting various agricultural colonies upon the islands to be found on her coast. They were meant to imitate the intermediate prisons of the Irish system, where prisoners might work out their redemption, when provisionally released. Two were established on the islands of Pianoso and Gorgona, and there were settlements made on Monte Christo and Capraia. They were used also to give effect to the system of enforced residence or domicilio coatto.
Portugal also has tried deportation to the African colony of Angola on a small scale with some success, and combined it with free emigration. The settlers have been represented as well disposed towards the convicts, gladly obtaining their services or helping them in the matter of security. The convict element is orderly, and, although their treatment is “peu repressive et relativement debonnaire,” few commit offences.
The Andaman Islands have been utilized by the Indian government since the mutiny (1857) for the deportation of heinous criminals (see Andaman Islands).
Authorities.—Captain A. Phillip, R.N., The Voyage of Governor Phillip to New South Wales (1790); David Collins, Account of the English Colony of New South Wales (1798); Archbishop Whately, Remarks on Transportation (1834); Herman Merivale, Colonization and Colonies (1841); d’Haussonville, Établissements pénitentiaires en France et aux colonies (1875); George Griffith, In a Prison Land; Cuche, Science et legislation pénitentiaire (1905); Hawes, The Uttermost East (1906). (A. G.)
- ↑ See J. C. Ballagh, White Servitude in Virginia (Baltimore, 1895.)