She tapped her fingers on the desk and muttered under her breath in frustration.
“Anno Roquim…no Rege…. *inaudible* … cattal num. is that null… Johib….wait forfit…”
She could see the words on the faded parchment but her rudimentary Latin skills were being challenged by the faded ink, water damage, and slanted ornate scribble that passed for handwriting. Inconsistent legal abbreviations the seventeenth century writers had used didn’t help. But as she read, page after page, day after day, Latin giving way to English at last, patterns began to emerge. Or rather, it was the pattern of no pattern at all. Footnote 1
Between 1614 and 1840, over 200,000 people were convicted in England of crimes and then transported to her colonies—first to Virginia and Maryland, with smaller numbers to Georgia, South Carolina, Philadelphia, New York, Massachusetts, and the Caribbean islands, and after the American Revolution to New South Wales (NSW) and Van Diemen’s Land (VDL). The legal systems that surrounded convicts transported to both the early American and early Australian colonies have been scrutinized from many directions—from English/British legislative changes around sentencing, to colonial laws that convicts were subject to under sentence.Footnote 2 What hasn’t been closely scrutinized, especially in the American context, is the question of felony attaint.Footnote 3
Early America and Early Australia have a shared legal history that is not often probed. What has always interested me is the shared commonalities—both colonies were inheritors of the same judicial framework, the same common law roots, and a shared history of transportation of English convicts. How unique was the Australian judicial approach to felony attaint? Were the divergences in the reception and application of felony attaint in NSW due to the penal nature of the colony, or can a deeper examination of the Virginian sources tell us a different story?
This article is an exploration of the common law of attainder and the way it was applied to the convicted and subsequently transported felon to both Virginia and Maryland (1614–1783) and NSW (1788–1840). It builds on the works of Bruce Kercher, who to date has been the sole scholar who has worked on the question of reception and application of attaint as it applied to Transported convicts.Footnote 4 His detailed research examined Australian court and judiciary records, while I delve into and focus on the Virginian and Maryland legislature and court records to enrich, challenge, and strengthen the comparisons he made in Perish or Prosper. While Kercher based his analysis and arguments on the Australian primary sources, he rested on secondary sources for his American comparisons.Footnote 5 In essence, this article does the opposite—I rest on Kercher for my Australian comparison (along with other sources) and have made a detailed examination of the American court and judiciary records for an in depth analysis, supplementing and advancing Kerchers arguments and understandings on how attaint was received and applied in the colonies.
Felony Attaint in England
What is the common law of Attainder or “Attaint”? In simple terms, it is a “civil and legal death”—an end to all rights and capacities after receiving a sentence of death for treason or felony in the courts (Judicial attainder).Footnote 6 During the English Tudor years, Parliamentary Attainder rose as a way to thwart perceived enemies, strip them of lands and political power, often without a conviction before the courts.Footnote 7 Prior to 1509, no attainder mentioned the death penalty—perhaps, because death was prescribed as the punishment for felony convictions.Footnote 8 Judicial attainder—a process of the common law—required the presence of the accused, but Parliamentary attainder—not a process of common law—did not.Footnote 9 Generally, both judicial and parliamentary attainder was accompanied by the forfeiture of all property and goods to the Crown, titles (if you had them), the loss of rights to sue or give evidence in court, and forbade inheritance of any lands, goods, or titles by heirs. While parliamentary attainder is the most commonly understood and studied, this article is interested in judicial attainder that followed (or should follow) felony convictions, given that this was the kind of attainder applied to individuals who were subsequently transported to either the American or Australian colonies.
How did attainder apply to the transported felon? To answer that, I need to first give a brief overview of transportation itself. Over the 15th, 16th, and 17th Centuries, punishments for crime were increasingly severe and have often been called the “bloody codes” by historians.Footnote 10 Banishment was technically against common law, but, with increasing demands for labor from the new Virginian colony, King James saw the value in sending these troublemakers away to meet the labor needs of the fledgling colony, ordering in 1614 a reprieve from execution for those “whoe for strength of bodie or other abilities shall thought fitt to be ymploied […] beyond the Seas.”Footnote 11 Given common law prohibition on banishment, these individuals were pardoned from death on condition that they consent to transport themselves to the Americas.Footnote 12 They were also, however, expected to pay their own way. Many could not afford to do so, in spite of being pardoned, and a thriving trade developed hand in hand with the indentured servant trade, which shipped convicts, and then sold them in Virginia or Maryland on arrival (for four to fourteen years) to recoup costs.Footnote 13
This system, however, did not fully suit the English government, given that merchants only selected criminals who were profitable to sell in the colonies rather than all convicts actually pardoned. In 1718, the Transportation Act passed—meaning convicts could now be directly sentenced to transportation.Footnote 14 Consent was removed, though pardons from death still formed part of the judicial framework. A government contractor (Jonathan Forward was the first) was paid a subsidy by Parliament and was required to remove all London criminals, profitable in the American colony or not. Other merchants continued as before, many out of Bristol, but did not receive the government subsidy, and continued to select those that could be sold for the highest price. At the outbreak of the American Revolution, the convict trade to America slowed (but did not end completely until the 1790s), and after a failed experiment in Africa, convicts were shipped instead to the new colony of NSW.Footnote 15 It is important to note that none of the Acts, which implemented or adapted transportation mentioned attainder.Footnote 16
We thus have four pathways to the colonies as a convict. Prior to 1718: a death sentence pardoned on condition of transportation (which should carry felony attaint, unless the Pardon also pardoned attaint). Post 1718 Transportation Act: both those who were Pardoned from a death sentence (should be attainted, unless Pardon cleared attaint), and those directed sentenced to transportation (should not be attainted as it was not a death sentence). And to complicate matters, the fourth pathway was those that paid their own way to the American colonies and were thus free upon arrival—who should be attainted in line with their sentence (attainted for a pardoned death sentence, not attainted for a direct transportation sentence).
Records of convicts being attainted on conviction are patchy, and do not fit the pattern we might expect—that is, attainted on sentence of death, but not on direct sentence of transportation. Some records have a sentence of death for theft, but because the criminal returned the stolen items they were not attainted.Footnote 17 Others were sentenced directly to transportation—meaning they should not be attainted—but their conviction record states “tried and attainted.”Footnote 18 There are also a handful of cases where the convict was “relieved of that burden.”Footnote 19 Perhaps, the pardon from death for transportation also pardoned from attainder—“Reprieve persons attained of felony and to transport beyond the seas” was one argument for a Transportation Act in the years before it was passed.Footnote 20 (Except as we will see in the later Australian context that the1819 Bullocks versus Dodd case argued that attaint was not actually nullified by a pardon for Transportation).Footnote 21
Some convicts, like a William Thomas in 1624, requested attaint not be applied in his case.Footnote 22 Just to make the situation even muddier, Sir John Kelying commented in 1660 that those convicted of manslaughter “hath a liberty of bailing by the common law if the person be not attainted,” suggesting either that not every case was automatically attainted, that attaint had been applied prior to sentencing, or that those attainted were sometimes released from prison or not actually “legally dead.”Footnote 23 Some cases appear in the Old Bailey recognizing that an individual was “known attainted,” which may or may not simply be an indication of a prior conviction of any kind.Footnote 24 In essence, there is almost no consistency to those who were attainted, and those who were not. Most cases that make any kind of reference to attainder appear in the records prior to the 1718 Transportation Act, which makes this common law particularly difficult to trace in England. Thus, in some cases, those sentenced to death were attainted, some were not; some pardoned from death were attainted, some were not. Technically, none who were directly sentenced to Transportation should have been attainted, but some were.
Reception of Common Law into the Colonies
Sentencing and application of attaint in Britain were thus inconsistent. What about in the colonies of Virginia and NSW? Alan Atkinson argued that after the 1718 Act, most contemporaries in the American colonies held to the belief that all convicts had been spared the gallows by a pardon and thus were attainted, in spite of the fact that pardoned convicts were not the majority of those transported.Footnote 25 This, however, seems to simplify and distort the reality.
The reception of Common Law into colonies is just as straightforward as common law itself—that is, not at all. Eminent legal historians have been examining the reception of the common law for decades, none of whom have been able to conclusively point to a consistent reception or application of common law.Footnote 26 While none, other than Bruce Kercher, were directly focused on felony attaint, the general consensus is that colonists only adopted the common laws the colonists themselves were familiar with or had need of.
While the first charter for Virginia stated that those who resided or were born in the colony were full citizens of England, there is a significant body of evidence that Virginia did not receive all English common laws. Sir William Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws of England argued that the laws of England, only apply to England, and not to Wales, Scotland, Ireland, “or any part of the king’s dominions.”Footnote 27 Although he went on to state that the law was a birthright of Englishmen, and that though they carry the laws with them, they only take the laws “as is applicable to their own situation and the condition of an infant colony.”Footnote 28 Blackstone is implying here that American colonies only took the common laws that the colonists themselves decided on. Virginian planter Landon Carter took umbrage at Blackstone’s notion that the colonists did not all of the carry common laws with them: “By this doctrine the colonists are in a legal view … a conquered people and are only subject to the Parliament.”Footnote 29 However, Blackstone is not incorrect in that colonists adapted common and judicial law to colonial conditions.Footnote 30
Indentured or Convicted?
The problem with examining attaint as it applied to Virginian convicts is the entanglement of the convicted with indentured servants in the records.Footnote 31 William Eddis wrote “owners generally conceive the opinion that the difference is merely nominal between the indentured servant and the convicted felon.”Footnote 32 In Maryland, Governor Sharpe was instructed in 1755 by officials in London that convict contractors should sell a “Convict as if an indented servant.”Footnote 33
Two key cases illustrate the complexity for historians in separating the indentured servant from the convict. Harry Piper was an agent in America for English merchants Dixon and Littledale. In 1767, Piper wrote of difficulties in selling one of the passengers aboard the Ruby, William McGrath.Footnote 34 The problem arose because the captain called McGrath a felon, but alleged that he did not have the conviction papers. McGrath, on the other hand, denied this vehemently, asserting his innocence and claiming that he was forced to sign a four-year indenture while at sea. Was McGrath a convict or not? Cross-checking other sources doesn’t solve the riddle. The Ruby made convict runs to Virginia in 1754, 1756, 1760, and 1770.Footnote 35 She carried convicts at least once from Derbyshire for Sydenham and Hodgson (who were also convict traders) in 1760. In his letter, Piper mentions that the transaction occurred the previous year, but no sailing of the Ruby has been discovered in either 1765, 1766, or 1767. This does not mean that there was no shipment, just that no evidence of it has as yet been uncovered. The fact that McGrath signed a four-year indenture also suggests that he was not a convict.Footnote 36
However, when conviction records are checked, the situation becomes more convoluted. In 1764—just three years prior to Piper’s letter—a William McGrath appears before the Justices at the Old Bailey. There is no record of the crime, but it states “no prosecution.”Footnote 37 It is possible that McGrath was caught in criminal activity, but the victim refused to prosecute, thus setting him free. Perhaps, then McGrath thought it best he leave the country. The captain, perhaps discovering McGrath’s criminal past, thought best to report it when they reached the colony, although there were no conviction papers. All of this is obviously conjecture. In the end, McGrath was sold as a convict, although only for four years. It is hard to say with absolute certainty that he was either a convict or a voluntary indentured servant.
Another equally ambivalent case is the one of “Messenger.” Virginian planter Landon Carter bewailed the fact that he had to fire his servant shepherd named Messenger in February 1776, for he was a “known thief” and had been stealing “sheep to feed his whores.”Footnote 38 This servant is elusive—Carter does not give us his first name, his last name is not listed on any immigration list, as an indentured servant, nor on any extant ship’s passenger list. However, in September 1776, James Messenger was convicted in the Old Bailey for returning from transportation. He was found at an inn, and he argued that he had worked there for the last six months.Footnote 39 The prosecutor noted that he was first sentenced “October last,” and if this sentence had been carried out fairly soon thereafter, this puts James in the colony at the same time as our elusive shepherd, and then back again (due to being fired) at the right time. The original conviction record for James has, however, not been found, nor has information about which ship he may have been transported upon. This case tells us more about the paucity and opacity of the sources than anything else. But it demonstrates the difficulty in discovering with any certainty the convict or indentured status of servants in the colony. It also tells us how difficult it is to ascertain the attainted or not status of any individual.
Newspapers and court records often fail to differentiate the indentured servant from the convict. In many instances, you cannot establish that someone in the records is a convict without cross examination of other sources, especially if you want to trace their attainted status.Footnote 40 In 1751, an Irish servant, John Murphy, was advertised as a runaway; he can be identified as a convict using Coldham’s emigration lists.Footnote 41 Even in sale advertisements, the servant and convict are entangled, for instance, the 1771 Virginia Gazette advertisement for “100 healthy servants” from the Justitia, which is a known convict ship once you cross-reference other sources.Footnote 42 In a runaway notice from Westmoreland County, three servants ran away and one was described as a “rogue” who had been “burnt on the hand,” which was a common form of punishment for a first criminal offense.Footnote 43 So, while this person may or may not have been shipped to the colony as a convict, he had almost certainly run afoul of the law at some point.
If colonists did not always differentiate between an indentured servant and a convict, what hope does a historian have? My own work on felony attaint was a direct response to trying to unwind these entanglements of convict and indentured. I thought at first it would be a useful argument to show the ways in which convicts were legally different from indentured servants in the Virginian context, and the key to the convicts’ legal status. Given that convicts transported to Virginia were bought and sold in the market, left in wills, used as gambling wagers, and they had few rights in the courts of law, it would be easy to draw the conclusion that this was because they were attainted felons—and thus “legally and socially dead.”
Except—they were not legally and socially dead. Nor did this differentiate them from indentured servants who were also bought and sold in the market and had few rights in law.
In the early stages of Virginia and Maryland history, records exist of convicts testifying—usually as witnesses on land boundaries—demonstrating that they were not, in fact, legally dead. Convict servant Ninian Beale testified numerous times on land boundary issues, while convict Woolfren Hunt testified on relationship status in will hearings.Footnote 44 It could be, especially in Beale and Hunt’s cases that their attaint status was overlooked due to the conditions in the colony. With high death rates, it would be detrimental to colonists if their convict servants could not testify. Convicts also testified in the courts in cases of bastardy, generally as a means to establish the father of the illegitimate child.Footnote 45 In these cases, if the father was a servant, he was sentenced to extra time in service; if the father was free, he had the rights to allocate where his child was to be bound.Footnote 46
However, convicts don’t just appear before the court when testifying. They also often appear before the court in freedom suits, that is, suing their owners for their freedom. Hercules Kent’s case is particularly revealing. Kent, a black man, arrived in Maryland as a convict—convicted in Chester and transported by a merchant named William Langton.Footnote 47 He sued for his freedom in 1732 but was denied and subsequently enslaved.Footnote 48 This case has several important implications. First, and perhaps most importantly, is that it even exists in the first place.
The judicial framework would not have allowed this case to proceed to court if Kent was enslaved, as slaves had no legal personhood in this period. He, by his own admission, was convicted of a felony and thus not an indentured servant. It cannot, however, be ascertained with certainty if Kent was attainted or not, given his conviction record has not yet been viewed. Kent is not, however, the only convict who sues for his freedom in the court of law, suggesting that either felony attaint is not a barrier to these types of suits or that it had expired on transportation to the colony.
There are other indications that attaint was applied inconsistently in the Virginian and Maryland colonies. After 1676 in Virginia, any person previously convicted of a crime either in England or in the colony—even if pardoned—was banned from holding ecclesiastical, civil, or military office.Footnote 49 This aligns with the “civil and legal death” of attainder. Yet a William Grove was not fully subject to this law. Convicted and sentenced to death in October of 1724, he was transported to Virginia for fourteen years in December of 1724, though no record of his pardon survives.Footnote 50 In 1737, before his fourteen-year sentence was complete, he sued John King—showing he was not “legally dead” before the court. In 1747, he was nominated to serve as clerk of the vestry, but the nomination was challenged due to his previous conviction status.Footnote 51 He later witnessed a will in Fairfax County.Footnote 52 In this case, the question remains if his felony attaint was removed by the pardon, or if the colony only chose to apply the attainder when it suited them—such as preventing him from holding office.
Yet, in other cases, attaint was applied. William Riddlesden was transported in 1720 but purchased his freedom on arrival and thus never served bonded labor. However, he was denied his attorney’s license in both Pennsylvania and Massachusetts, meaning attainder was followed in his case.Footnote 53 Yet not all would-be lawyers in Virginia were prevented from serving due to their conviction status. In 1750, Governor Gooch regulated Attorneys “to prevent persons convicted of a felonious crime from obtaining a licence to practice […] as some few have done.”Footnote 54 Nonetheless when he housed a friend’s convicted son, who had previously been trained as an attorney, he was willing to let him practice but could not “for the people of the country know what he is.”Footnote 55 The evidence suggests that attainder was inconsistently applied, if at all, and only when it suited the colonists to do so.
There are other examples where attainder was not applied to convicts, in particular in the ownership of property. Jonathan Ady, in 1743, had a mortgage of 60 acres and was a successful cooper. Anthony Lamb, the father of the American Revolutionary John Lamb, was a convict who ran a successful Math Instrument business and even owned slaves.Footnote 56
Part of the reason that Attaint may not have been traceable for the colonists in Virginia could be due to the lack of conviction records that accompanied them to the colonies. While indentured servants signed an indenture that their masters had a copy of, convicts did not. There are a tiny number of convict indentures still extant, but when compared to the significant number surviving for indentured servants, this suggests that this was not common practice for convicts.Footnote 57 There are some suggestions that there should have been court papers given to the shipping merchant stating the nature of the conviction, but it seems if these were rare indeed.Footnote 58 One captain claimed they had been destroyed by the convicts, another simply could not produce them.Footnote 59 By 1728, the Provincial Court noted that merchants were “still neglecting” to bring in convict papers.Footnote 60 Without these papers or some other evidence of conviction, it would be near impossible for the colonist—or a historian—to know who was attainted or not. So were convicts attainted on arrival to Virginia and Maryland or not?
The answer seems to be unsatisfying, maybe.
Australian Contrast
As noted in the opening of this article, my aim is to build on the works of Bruce Kercher. It would be impossible—and beyond the word length allowed by this journal—to properly synopsize the detailed research and analysis he made of early NSW reception and application for felony attaint and the impact it had on the development of judicial law.Footnote 61 I am not attempting to repeat the work done by Kercher, but simply to revisit his key points with the additional primary American material.
Could NSW function as a colony when all of its early arrivals were (possibly) attainted felons or their jailors?Footnote 62 It is not un-ironic that the first civil case in the colony was two known attainted felons suing a non-attainted Captain (and winning their suit).Footnote 63 The Kable (Cable) case has been extensively studied by legal historians—and not without merit as it established the precedence that all convicts, even those under sentence, were able to take advantage of the court systems. But it is not only their civil suit that can tell us about felony attaint, so too can their marriage.
Their attainted status is clear in that they were denied permission to marry while in England. The pair garnered pity, though, and were granted permission to marry before leaving for NSW, however, the wedding does not take place until they are in Australia.Footnote 64 In this case, their attainted status was ignored or overruled because the Under Secretary Evan Nepean felt sympathy for the pair. Under the rules of felony attaint, other convicts should not have been allowed to marry either. Except they did.Footnote 65
Elizabeth Barber was sentenced to death, and thus should have been attainted.Footnote 66 She marries a Thomas Brown in the colony in February of 1788 (Thomas was directly sentenced to Transportation so should not be attainted).Footnote 67 Historically, when these two marry in 1788, there is not yet any pathway to freedom or pardons in the colony, so both would still have been considered “under sentence.” Elizabeth still has a year on her sentence (and her husband has 2 years), so unless her pardon from death cleared her attainder, she should still be under its disabling influence. But clearly, she was not. Was the nuance in this case because the male wasn’t attainted? Is that what mattered? There is no way to know. Other marriages can be examined and show nearly no pattern, except that marriage was encouraged in NSW among convicts irrespective of any attainder.
As shown in greater detail by Kercher, in NSW, the application of convict attaint shifted like a pendulum. Initially, other than in the magistrate courts, convicts were treated as if they were free and attaint was largely ignored, just as it had been in early Virginia.Footnote 68 They could sue for unpaid wages, or be sued for debts.Footnote 69 In the early years of the Australian colony, transported attorneys acted as agents to give professional advice to the Civil Court, because there were no alternatives. For legal representation, the choice was often a convict/Emancipist or someone legally unqualified.Footnote 70 Many convicted attorneys rose to prominence, including George Crossley, George Chartres, and Edward Eagar.Footnote 71 Simeon Lord and Andrew Thompson served on the magistrate’s bench (even though neither had extensive legal training).Footnote 72 Attaint was thus clearly not a disabling factor due to the fact that the conditions in the colony necessitated their expertise.
Opinions changed, as freer, legally trained individuals arrived in the colony. Just as Virginia and Maryland passed laws disbarring those who’d been convicted of crimes, in NSW, Jeffery Bent ruled in 1815 that no lawyer disbarred in England could practice in the colony.Footnote 73 Which incidentally was the same year that the first unconvicted lawyer arrives in the colony.
Much alarm was caused to Emancipists in NSW by the case Bullock versus Dodds (1819).Footnote 74 The key judgment held that those convicted of death and then reprieved for transportation were not relieved of their attainder, nor did a pardon from the NSW Governor reprieve them. This obviously concerned Emancipists in the colony, whose rights to legal recourse and property were at risk. But there are other fascinating aspects about this case for those interested in the question of felony attaint.
A key discussion in deciding this case is whether the pardon from death was also a pardon from felony attaint. Importantly, when you revisit the many Transportation Acts, the way in which the felon was pardoned shifts. The Bullock case cites 8 Geo 3 c15, the 1768 Transportation Act, which states, “Such transportation shall have the effect of pardon under the great seal.”Footnote 75 Suggesting that once transported, they should have an absolute pardon. Yet, when Bullock brings his suit, these Acts have been updated. He would have been transported under 24 Geo 3c 56 (1784 Transportation Act) which only grants “benefit of conditional pardon” and does not mention the great seal at all.Footnote 76 Importantly, however, 30 Geo 3 c47 in 1790 allows that the governor of Australia can remit a sentence either “absolutely or conditionally” and that it should “shall have the effect […] as if his majesty had signified their royal intention of mercy under his or their sign,” and that such a pardon would be ratified “in the next general pardon which shall pass under the Great Seal.”Footnote 77 This to me argues that any and all pardons granted by the governor removed attainder—Bullock should not have been under Felony Attaint based on the Acts in force when he brought his suit.Footnote 78
But hand in hand with this discussion of the pardon is the discussion regarding those who returned to England or Britain before the end of their sentences. The Transportation Acts place a further restriction on transported convicts, in that if they returned to England or Great Britain before the end of their sentence “shall be liable to be punished as any person attainted of felony without benefit of clergy” and punished with death.Footnote 79 This was a far more common problem under the American system than it was in the Australian, in part due to distance, but especially given some paid their own way to the Americas and were thus free in the colonies.Footnote 80
Importantly, and missed by the judges in the Bullock case, this death punishment applied to those who were attainted (pardoned from death on condition of transportation) and those directly sentenced and thus not attainted. In essence, returning from transportation was a *new* non-clergiable offense. So, Bullock was attainted not by his original conviction, but by this new offense of returning to England before the expiration of his sentence. In essence, Bullock was barred from suing—not because he was attainted by his original sentence—but because he was doing so in the English court system rather than the Australian.
. This case indicates the shift from attaint being ignored in the Australian colony, to it applying to even freed convicts. Which neglects to take into account that those directly sentenced to Transportation—which the bulk of Australian convicts were—rather than reprieved of death, should not be attainted in the first place, unfairly placing the burden on them as well as those pardoned. John Thomas Bigge, who was sent to the colony to report back to the crown, recommended in 1822 that ex-convicts should be restored to civil rights.Footnote 81 Justice Stephen in 1827 stated “the rights of prisoners were as sacred in the eye of the law as those of free men.”Footnote 82 Thus, attaint in Australia is an example of a divergence from the common law of England, specifically adapted to a convict colony.
It is important to note that the Australian colonies spoke and dealt with attainder more explicitly than the American ones ever did. No American law mentioned attaint; rather, it seems that the reliance was instead on their unfree chattel status rather than their attainted status that disabled convicts from participating in the full process of the law.Footnote 83 One of Kercher’s aims in studying convict attaint was to understand property rights over the convict, in both the American and Australian colonies. However, because he is narrowly focused on this one law, he missed a key element—the impacts of indentured servitude and slavery. It is not attaint that transfers property rights over the convict, but the process of sale and resale in the American colonies, which established ownership, and subsequent chattelization of the convict, as well as over that of other servants and slaves. In the American colonies, these sold convicts were privately controlled by those who purchased their labor—just as slaves and indentured servants were—and in the Australian colonies, convicts were publicly controlled by the government, even when assigned to a private settler. This difference in control made all the difference to property rights.
During the French and Indian War, Sir Charles Hardy wrote to Lord Halifax that the recruitment of servants was troublesome because “the lawyers … hold Bought servants to be Property and, as such, have no Will of their own, and cannot be withheld from their Masters.”Footnote 84 The chattel status of servants in America is hotly debated, especially in an era where the myth of the “white slave” circulates.Footnote 85 While it is outside the scope of this article to go into depth on the evidence for this point, I have argued elsewhere that indentured servants and convicts were held in a temporary chattel status, which passed to their illegitimate children.Footnote 86 Because Australia lacked the same process of sale and resale, convicts there were not chattelized and “owned” in the same way as earlier convicts to America, and thus employers did not own their property rights.
While Virginian law became more and more coercive, Australian law aimed to protect the laboring abilities of the convicts themselves.Footnote 87 An argument can be made that the reason laws in Virginia excluded convicts was due to greater awareness of attaint or alignment with British law. In 1748, Virginia convicts are barred from giving testimony in a court of law, unless it was against another convict.Footnote 88 After 1769, because women could not testify, convict women had their children automatically bound to their master (rather than being sold).Footnote 89 Convict woman Winifred Jones in Maryland had five mixed-race children sold to her master. Not only were her children chattelized, each carried an extra seven-year sentence for the mother (Maryland’s fornication law was harsher than Virginia’s), meaning Jones was chattel for life.Footnote 90
Given the inconsistencies in application on sentencing, and patchy application in the colonies why does attainder—or attaint—matter historically? While attainder was inconsistently applied in the early settlements of each colony, as evident by the appearance of convicts before the courts in both locations, later treatment of convicts in both places showed greater alignment with the idea of felony attainder. By examining attaint, we can see the increased sophistication in legal practice as it developed.
Local conditions meant adaptation from English law. Separated by the distance of the Atlantic, and later the Pacific, formal institutional connections with England were minimal, leading to that initial non-application of attainder.Footnote 91 Local laws in both colonies that focused on convicts shifted over the years toward exclusion from society—that is, toward an alignment with ideas of attaint. While attaint itself was still inconsistently applied, if you examine the legislature closely, you can see the exclusion of convicts along the lines of “legal and civil death.”
Why was attainder so poorly applied in the early days of the colonies? One reason is perhaps the early structure of the court and legal systems. In both locations. In Virginia, labor shortages modified the operation of the criminal justice system, the harshness of laws, and it stands to reason the application of attaint as well.Footnote 92 While in NSW, the military justice was sufficient, and the settlement could not survive if the majority of the population was attainted.Footnote 93
The few members of the Bench and Bar in early Virginia were poorly trained in the law, and their administration of it was rudimentary.Footnote 94 Justices learned from those who had come before them rather than formal education, few read or owned legal books, and magistrates only had informal knowledge of English legal customs.Footnote 95 Formal institutional connections with England were minimal, and though they are instructed to pass laws “not contrary” to those in England, they could still develop their own unique local legislative acts and procedures.Footnote 96
Early NSW had many similarities to early Virginia. Governors frequently stated that they could not follow English law as it either did not apply or was too difficult to understand.Footnote 97 Just as in early Virginia, courts in early NSW were run by amateur judges, in a rudimentary court system.Footnote 98 Richard Dore (1798 attorney) and Ellis Bent (1809 barrister) were the only two judge advocates of the Civil Court who had any legal training.Footnote 99 Richard Atkins, the infamous judge-advocate and magistrate, wrote “my education had not been what is called a legal one, but a classical one with some reading of law.”Footnote 100 This lack of trained personnel inhibited effective operation of the court systems, and thus the application of attainder.Footnote 101
As the bench became more educated and specially trained in both locations, with better access to legal materials, English law became more consistently applied resulting in a shift toward the application of common law including that of attainder.Footnote 102 The rise of the legal profession between 1714 and 1748 in Virginia accelerated the complexity of political and legal cultures and drew towards British procedures.Footnote 103 The introduction of professionals into NSW signaled a change in attitude toward attaint, just as some of the laws in Virginia changed for greater alignment. The divergences from British law dissipated to a degree with the introduction of professional English lawyers.Footnote 104
In Virginia, specific laws such as those that prevented marriage or trading effectively controlled the servant population, including convicts, without attaint needing to come into play. Their unfree status precluded them from owning land or goods until after their sentence. Konig argued that the Virginian colony “had few of the protections of the common law courts.”Footnote 105
Each colony then developed a greater alignment with the understanding and application of common law, or at least this particular common law. For attaint this posed a further question—how does this apply to those transported? The “pure” version of the common law of attaint was that it was for life, even if a sentence had been fully served, unless a pardon was received under the Great Seal.Footnote 106 But what about those who had been locally pardoned or who had only a seven- or fourteen-year term?Footnote 107 This then circles around to the beginning of this article in the discussion of who was attainted and who was not.
If we return for a moment to the Bullocks versus Dodd case, the biggest question in the case was whether those who were pardoned from a death sentence for Transportation were also pardoned from their attainder. While the historical interest in this case has been on the judgment made, I think it is just as important that we pay attention to the discussion they had prior to judgment. Importantly, what I think this case and their prejudgment discussion shows, is the complexity of felony attaint—even practitioners of the law in the time period struggled to know how the Judicial Act should apply in cases where a convicted felon was pardoned.Footnote 108 Was he pardoned under the great seal as stated in the Act? The judges in Bullock versus Dodd certainly thought not.
This discussion also suggests that the complexity of attainder was a barrier to its application, especially for any practitioner in the colony who was not as familiar with the law. Would a lay practitioner in the Virginian or NSW colonies understand the common law of attainder and the ways in which it did or did not apply in any given case? Given the evidence, it seems unlikely that they did so.
Why does the messy, tangled, convoluted—and frankly a little unclear—history of attainder matter? By looking at one aspect of common law, we can see local divergence from English common law, while still clinging to English common law. It shows the moments in which common law shifts and changes, even while retaining connections to the old traditions. We can also see how messy the application of common law was, especially as it was sent to the colonies. Rather than treating the common law as an unchanging ancient tradition that was imported wholesale to new colonial spaces, the history of changes to attainder shows the ways in which these colonies took and adapted what was useful to them. By unpicking attaint, we can understand a bit about how the common law worked for the people who lived and worked and were subject to the law in the periods in which we study.
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge Bruce Kercher. This study wouldn’t even exist without his encouragement and interest in my work a decade ago. For David Goodman and Penny Edmonds who read early editions of this work and made valuable suggestions, thank you. My appreciation must also be given to the Law and History Review editor and review team. Finally, I need to thank Cole for the push and support to write, and your unwavering belief in my abilities.