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Transported Convicts in the New World: Arrival in America

Note: This post is part of a series on Convict Transportation to the American colonies.

At the end of their voyages across the Atlantic, most convict ships entered the Chesapeake Bay and headed for a port in Virginia or Maryland. The captain then sent for the factor, an American representative of the convict merchant, who reviewed the list of convicts on board the ship, noted any deaths, and evaluated the condition of those remaining. He then issued a receipt for the captain to take back to Great Britain to prove that the convicts had indeed been delivered to their destination.

Announcing the Sale

Once the factor reviewed the convicts and compiled a list of them, he posted notices and placed advertisements in newspapers announcing the impending auction of the convicts. Advertisements gave the date of the sale, the number of convicts to be sold, and a general idea of the skills the convicts possessed. Oftentimes, though, the market for convicts was so good that advertisements were not needed, and the ship sold its entire cargo of convicts almost as soon as it landed.

The sale of convicts into indentured servitude was not a requirement of the Transportation Act of 1718. Transportation to America was essentially exile from Great Britain, with a condition of forced labor that was modeled after indentured servitude. Merchants who were contracted to transport convicts to America gained a property interest in the labor of the convicts, so they sold the convicts in America both to cover the cost of transporting them and to capitalize on this interest.

The number of years that convicts were banished from England did not necessarily correspond to the length of their terms of service. Convicts who had enough money could purchase their freedom from the merchant once the ship landed. If the convict could only afford part of the price the merchant expected to receive from the sale, then he or she would only have to work for part of the term. Most convicts, however, lacked the money to purchase their freedom and were sold for 7 year terms, no matter what their sentence was in England.

Preparing the Convicts for Sale

Before auctioning the convicts, captains spiffed them up to make them more desirable to potential buyers, thereby transforming them into commodities to be sold on an open market. The rough passage across the Atlantic often resulted in the convicts arriving in poor condition, so preparations to make them more marketable were often necessary.

As the business of convict transportation matured through the years, convict merchants began to understand that improving the conditions under which convicts were transported could lower the death rate and bring greater profits at the other end of the Atlantic. Andrew Reid, who succeeded Jonathan Forward as England’s official government contractor for convict transportation, made sure that the prisoners and passengers of his ship were shaven and in clean clothes before setting out for America. These measures were intended to reduce as much as possible the filth and unsanitary conditions that were guaranteed to emerge during the voyage.

Not all convict merchants followed Reid’s lead. After the arrival of a convict ship in 1767, a factor in Virginia reported back to England that “The Women this year were very Naked, their Cloaths especially their Gowns are very Scanty and sorry and many of them had no Handkerchiefs, the weather has been Cold, they must have suffered.”

In preparation for the sale, shipmasters bathed the convicts and made sure that the male ones were clean shaven. Sometimes they supplied headdresses for the women and caps for the men. In one case, a ship arriving from Dublin with 66 convicts was discovered with 22 wigs, which were intended to make some of its passengers appear to be more respectable than they were.

James Revel, who was transported to America in 1771, gives a poetic account of his preparation for sale:

. . . after sailing seven weeks or more,
We at Virginia all were put on shore.

Then to refresh us we were all well clean’d,
That to our buyers we might the better seem,
The things were given that to each belong,
And they that had clean linen put it on.

Our faces shav’d, comb’d our wigs and hair,
That we in decent order might appear,
Against the planters did come us to view,
How well they lik’d this fresh transported crew.

A Peculiar Smell

This “transported crew” usually did not come off as being too fresh. Despite the captains’ best efforts to clean up the convicts for sale, they still made a poor presentation. One colonist described the sale of about 100 convicts in Williamsburg with dismay:

I never see such pasels of pore Raches in my Life, some all most naked and what had Cloths was as Black [as] Chimney Swipers, and all most Starved by the Ill [usage] in their Pasedge By the Capn, for they are used no Bater than so many negro Slaves.

The freshening of the convicts also could not rid them of the smell they acquired after being cooped up in the ship for weeks on end. A runaway ad in the Virginia Gazette for July 26, 1770 describes four runaways as having “been but a few days from on board the ship, and all have a peculiar smell incident to all servants just coming from ships.” Another advertisement for two runaway convicts in the Virginia Gazette for April 22, 1775 claims that “To those used to the Smell of Servants just from a Ship they will easily be discovered, unless they have procured new Clothes.”

Resources for this article:

  • Atkinson, Alan. “The Free-Born Englishman Transported Convict Rights as a Measure of Eighteenth-Century Empire.” Past and Present 144 (1994): 88-115.
  • Coldham, Peter Wilson. Emigrants in Chains: A Social History of Forced Emigration to the Americas of Felons, Destitute Children, Political and Religious Non-conformists, Vagabonds, Beggars and Other Undesirables, 1607-1776. Baltimore, Md.: Genealogical Pub. Co., 1992.
  • Ekirch, A. Roger. Bound for America: The Transportation of British Convicts to the Colonies, 1718-1775. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.
  • Kercher, Bruce. “Perish or Prosper: The Law and Convict Transportation in the British Empire, 1700-1850.” Law and History Review 21.3 (2003): 527-84.
  • Langley, Batty. An Accurate Description of Newgate, with the Rights, Privileges, Allowances, Fees, Dues, and Customs Thereof. London: Printed for T. Warner, 1724.
  • Middleton, Arthur Pierce. Tobacco Coast: A Maritime History of Chesapeake Bay in the Colonial Era. Baltimore, MD: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1953.
  • Neill, Edward D. Terra Mariæ; or, Threads of Maryland Colonial History. Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1867. Making of America database. Ann Arbor, Michigan: University of Michigan Library, 2005.
  • Revel, James. The Poor Unhappy Transported Felon’s Sorrowful Account of His Fourteen Years Transportation at Virginia in America. London, 1780.
  • Smith, Abbot Emerson. Colonists in Bondage : White Servitude and Convict Labor in America, 1607-1776. The Norton Library; N592. New York: Norton, 1971.
  • The Virginia Gazette (Rind), July 26, 1770, p. 3.
  • The Virginia Gazette (Purdie), April 21, 1775, p. 3.

Learn More About Convict Transportation

Learn more about convict transportation to colonial America by reading my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: The Untold Story of How the British Transported 50,000 Convicts to Colonial America.

Amazon.com: Paperback ($16.99) and Kindle ($4.99).

Smashwords: All e-book formats ($4.99).

Most people know that England shipped thousands of convicts to Australia, but few are aware that colonial America was the original destination for Britain’s unwanted criminals. In the 18th century, thousands of British convicts were separated from their families, chained together in the hold of a ship, and carried off to America, sometimes for the theft of a mere handkerchief.

What happened to these convicts once they arrived in America? Did they prosper in an environment of unlimited opportunity, or were they ostracized by the other colonists? Anthony Vaver tells the stories of the petty thieves and professional criminals who were punished by being sent across the ocean to work on plantations. In bringing to life this forgotten chapter in American history, he challenges the way we think about immigration to early America.

The book also includes an appendix with helpful tips for researching individual convicts who were transported to America.

Visit Pickpocket Publishing for more details.

Convict Voyages: Convict Passengers on the Jonathan

Note: This post is part of a series on Convict Transportation to the American colonies.

Many of the surviving accounts of events involving transported convicts tend to focus on unusual circumstances or notorious criminals. Most of the convicts sent overseas, however, were minor criminals who committed petty acts of crime. These common criminals did not garner the attention that some of the more serious offenders did, so their individual stories did not get written up in the press, and most of them were illiterate, so they did not leave behind journals chronicling their own experiences.

This article profiles some of the convict passengers on board the Jonathan, which left London on February 19, 1723. The Jonathan was a former slave ship and at the time it was the newest addition to Jonathan Forward’s fleet of convict ships. This voyage has a slight advantage over most others when it comes to profiling the convicts it carried, because its passenger records indicate the age, profession, and appearance of each convict. One of the passengers has already appeared in the introduction to this series, James Bell, who was transported to America for stealing a book. Here are the stories of some of the other convicts who accompanied him on his journey.

John Watkins

On December 6, 1722, John Watkins, a 21 year-old carpenter with brown hair, was walking along a wharf on the River Thames not far from where he lived. He came upon a pile of raisins sitting out in the open and made an impulsive, yet fateful, decision. He grabbed a basket of raisins, which was later valued at 8 shillings and continued on his way. He was easily caught, however, and the owners of the raisins, Benjamin Longuet and Mark Weyland, brought him to trial on January 16, 1724 at the Old Bailey.

Theft along the wharves of the Thames was rampant at the time, and the two owners must have been eager to prosecute him. Watkins was found guilty of simple grand larceny, and he was sentenced to transportation to the American colonies for 7 years.

Margaret Hayes

On December 1, 1722, Margaret Hayes walked into a shop and began to bargain with Elizabeth Reynolds, the shop’s owner, over the price of some stockings. Hayes was a 30-year-old widow with a dark complexion, and she lived in the parish of St. Giles-in-the-Fields, a section of London notorious for heavy gin drinking. In the middle of the negotiations, Hayes grabbed a pair of stockings on display that were valued at two shillings and ran out of the shop.

Reynolds quickly called out after her, and several people who heard Reynolds’ cries moved to stop her. Realizing that she was going to be caught, Hayes dropped the stockings on the ground, but they were quickly picked up along with the offender. Hayes was swiftly brought to trial on December 5, and even though she denied ever having gone into the shop, she was found guilty of theft. The jury, however, showed some sympathy for her by devaluing the goods she took to ten pence, thereby ensuring a sentence of transportation to the American colonies for 7 years, as opposed to death by hanging.

Sarah Nutt

On November 25, 1722, Sarah Nutt entered Joseph Manning’s chandler shop and sat down by the fire to have a drink, quite possibly gin. Chandlers often sold more than just candles and specialized in selling basic items, like coal and soap, in small quantities to the poor. They also offered food staples at prices below what they would normally cost at an alehouse. The poor tended to rely on them for their daily allowance of bread, cheese, and small beer, but, as the gin craze increasingly took hold in the eighteenth century, increasingly just bread and gin. Chandlers were generally considered the lowest type of shopkeeper.

Nutt was 22 years old at the time, had brown hair, and was unmarried. She lived in the parish of St. James’s Clerkenwell not far from New Prison. At one point, while Nutt was enjoying her drink, Manning leaned over to stir the fire. Nutt quickly slipped a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and took it with her when she left. Nutt later discovered that a gold ring was wrapped in the handkerchief she took. She decided to give the ring to Mary Herrick, a cook, as repayment for a debt she owed her for some food. Herrick in turn sold the ring to Nutt’s cousin, Mary Mark.

Missing his handkerchief and gold ring, Manning was eventually able to trace the ring back to Mark, and he brought Nutt to trial on December 5. Nutt admitted that she took the handkerchief and the gold ring, which was valued at 5 shillings. She was found guilty of pickpocketing, which carried an automatic death sentence if the goods stolen were valued over one shilling. Sometimes juries would devalue the stolen goods so as to avoid handing down such a severe penalty, as was the case with Margaret Hayes, but in this case they showed Nutt little sympathy. She was sentenced to death. Two months later, however, she received a conditional pardon and was transported to the American colonies for 14 years.

Other Trials

The set of trials that were held on the day that John Watkins was convicted of stealing the basket of raisons was not without its theater. John Dyer, a hatmaker, was accused of stealing 3 hats from a workshop, even though he claimed that they were given to him on the street by a man who was drunk. In a case of hotel theft, John Harris, a 25 year-old baker, was indicted for taking a pair of flaxen sheets from the Windmill-Inn on St. John’s Street after spending the night there. The two were found guilty and sentenced along with Watkins to transportation for 7 years.

Sarah Wells, otherwise known as “Callico Sarah,” also faced trial on that same day in February for returning early from transportation. Two years earlier, she was found guilty of stealing a silver watch, for which she received a sentence of death. After receiving her sentence, she and five other women who also faced death all “pleaded their bellies,” i.e., they claimed to be pregnant in the hope that they could delay their execution. Only one of the six was actually found by a jury of matrons to be pregnant, and it was not Wells. Even though she wasn’t pregnant, Wells was able to avoid execution through a pardon on condition of being transported to America for 14 years.

At her subsequent trial for returning early from transportation, Wells was once again found guilty and sentenced to death, and once again she tried the same tactic of pleading her belly. This time it worked. She was indeed found to be pregnant. This change of events helped her to secure yet another conditional pardon, and she was transported a second time to America under a 14-year sentence. Wells did not travel on the Jonathan, though, perhaps so she could have her baby before being transported, and instead went out on the next ship, the Alexander, in July 1723.

The Voyage

On February 18, 1723, James Bell, John Watkins, Margaret Hayes, Sarah, Nutt, John Dyer, and John Harris, along with 30 other convicted felons, including a brickmaker, a wheelwright, 3 weavers, a painter, and a glass grinder, were paraded through the London streets from Newgate Prison to the docks along the Thames to board the Jonathan.

Jonathan Forward put Darby Lux in place as captain of his new ship. Lux had served as captain of the Gilbert on two previous convict voyages to America. On board Lux’s first voyage in October, 1720, was none other than Sarah Wells, who was on her first trip to America for theft. At the time, she, along with several other convicts, did not appear on the landing certificate for the Gilbert, so she may have escaped and returned to London before or soon after the ship arrived in Maryland, which explains why she appeared back in court for returning early from transportation.

The voyage of the Jonathan was difficult for at least some of the convict passengers. Elizabeth Knight, who was found guilty of stealing two riding hoods valued at 2 shillings, died during the voyage, as did Charles Lynch, who along with his brother ran away with a bag of clothes belonging to a traveler who had stopped to ask them directions.

All of these convicts transported in the Jonathan were fairly typical of those who committed crimes that fell under the Transportation Act. What happened to the Jonathan after it arrived in America, however, was not typical. Sometime after the Jonathan landed in Annapolis, Maryland, the ship caught fire and sank, so Jonathan Forward’s newest member of his fleet made only one voyage to America under his ownership. The authorities suspected that the convicts were responsible for setting the fire.

Darby Lux made many more trips transporting convicts across the ocean before settling in Maryland after his final voyage in 1738 to become Forward’s principal agent in America.

Resources for this article:

Learn More About Convict Transportation

Learn more about convict transportation to colonial America by reading my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: The Untold Story of How the British Transported 50,000 Convicts to Colonial America.

Amazon.com: Paperback ($16.99) and Kindle ($4.99).

Smashwords: All e-book formats ($4.99).

Most people know that England shipped thousands of convicts to Australia, but few are aware that colonial America was the original destination for Britain’s unwanted criminals. In the 18th century, thousands of British convicts were separated from their families, chained together in the hold of a ship, and carried off to America, sometimes for the theft of a mere handkerchief.

What happened to these convicts once they arrived in America? Did they prosper in an environment of unlimited opportunity, or were they ostracized by the other colonists? Anthony Vaver tells the stories of the petty thieves and professional criminals who were punished by being sent across the ocean to work on plantations. In bringing to life this forgotten chapter in American history, he challenges the way we think about immigration to early America.

The book also includes an appendix with helpful tips for researching individual convicts who were transported to America.

Visit Pickpocket Publishing for more details.

EAC Reviews: Defying Empire by Thomas M. Truxes

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Defying Empire: Trading with the Enemy in Colonial New York by Thomas M. Truxes (New Haven: Yale UP, 2008), 288 pp.

Defying Empire: Trading with the Enemy in Colonial New York by Thomas M. Truxes is about British attempts to stop trade between New York City merchants and the French during the Seven Years’ War (1754-63), otherwise known as the French and Indian War. The book isn’t about crime per se, but the line between legal and illegal trade drives its action and storyline, and it has enough descriptions of criminals and criminal activity to hold the interest of early American crime fans.

The issue of mercantile trade was contentious in eighteenth-century Britain even without the backdrop of war. England’s movement toward an economy based on the unlimited, unfettered accumulation of capital in the eighteenth century led to questions about where the line between legal and criminal behavior should be drawn, since the end goal of both merchant and criminal appeared to be the same. Commentators throughout the century often compared mercantile and criminal activity and openly wondered what constituted the difference between the two. John Gay’s theatrical hit of the century, The Beggar’s Opera, opens with the criminal businessman, Mr. Peachum, surrounded by account books and singing, “Through all the Employments of Life / Each Neighbour abuses his Brother; / Whore and Rogue they call Husband and Wife: / All Professions be-rogue one another.” Bernard Mandeville in The Fable of the Bees satirically equates economic and criminal values and argues that political corruption is a requisite for success in commerce, trade, and society in general.

Truxes shows how the expanding British Empire created situations where the distinction between legal and illegal trade was complicated, especially during wartime. New York City merchants who had built their businesses on trade with the French in North America were suddenly told by the British that they could no longer do business with the enemy now that war had broken out between the two countries. Not surprisingly, these merchants fought to protect their trade interests by any means possible and increasingly turned to smuggling to do so. The merchants’ strong ties to colonial officials and their deep pockets, which they could use to bribe politicians and potential informants, greatly limited the government’s ability to stop such trade.

Defying Empire is filled with fascinating and colorful characters: well-connected, ruthless merchants who will stop at nothing to protect their economic interests; professional smugglers who work directly for these men of “property and position.”; and gritty sailors and common criminals who populate the city streets. The book’s center of energy comes from George Spencer, an obstinate New York merchant who attempted to inform the government about the smuggling activities of his fellow merchants in the hope of a big reward and instead found himself feeling the full weight of their political influence by spending twenty-seven months in jail on false bankruptcy charges.

Truxes captures the spirit of early New York and is at his best when describing the crimes that took place on its rough and tumble streets. The connection between war and crime was apparent to anyone living in New York City. The scarcity of accommodations for troops during wartime forced many hard-edged soldiers into the city, especially during the winter months. Their presence noticeably raised the city’s crime statistics, resulting in a sharp increase in drunkenness, fighting, theft, and prostitution.

Unfortunately, Truxes’s descriptions of trade activities in the West Indies lack the spirit of his New York sections and are much more academic in tone. In order to get around British limits on commerce, American merchants developed an intricate system to make it appear like they were trading with neutral or friendly nations and not the French. A basic understanding of these trade maneuvers, though, is necessary for setting up the moment when George Spencer finally gets his day in court against the New York merchants who helped imprison him. Here, Truxes’s description of the shady deals, questionable testimony, and unexpected twists that occurred throughout these proceedings is highly entertaining.

A good deal of the corruption in the regulation of overseas trade was the result of neglect by the British government to follow up on reports of illegal trade. Every now and then, the government would send an eager official to America to investigate the situation, but he would inevitably become frustrated by the bureaucracy and obstructions put up by colonial officials and the American merchants and give up.

At the very end of the war, the British government finally enacted legislation to make it easier to prosecute illegal trade and made moves to enforce the law by placing British warships in the Manhattan harbor. The capture of any ship that engaged in illegal trade could bring a fortune to those involved in the seizure, because they would be entitled to half the proceeds from the disposal of the ship and its cargo (the other half would go to the king). Yet even this incentive could not result in the prosecution of more than a few token offenders of the law.

Defying Empire is ultimately a scholarly book, but the storyline is strong enough to hold the attention of readers who want to learn about the seedy side of New York City’s mercantile culture and history. At times, it requires intense focus to keep all the characters straight, but the “Glossary of Persons” near the end of the book is a tremendous help in this regard. Crime is not the central focus of Truxes’s book, but when read in this context, what emerges is a picture of eighteenth-century white-collar crime perpetrated by New York merchants during a time when the economic interests of Great Britain and its colonies were increasingly at odds.

Don’t forget to visit the Early American Crime Bookshop.

Convict Voyages: James Dalton and the Escape to Vigo

Note: This post is part of a series on Convict Transportation to the American colonies.

James Dalton vividly experienced the strong arm of the law at a young age when he sat between the knees of his father, who was riding in a cart that was taking him to the gallows to be hanged for robbery. Crime evidently ran strong in the Dalton family. His father was originally a tailor from Dublin, Ireland, who fought in the wars in Flanders and rose to become a sergeant before going to London, where he became a notorious card cheat. He was executed for robbing one of his marks. After his death, Dalton’s mother married a butcher, but was soon caught committing a felony and was transported. His sister was also said to be transported to the American colonies for a separate crime. Yet, the examples set by watching each member of his family punished for their crimes failed to deter him from following in their footsteps.

Conviction

Starting at a young age, Dalton committed all kinds of robberies, burglaries, and other crimes in and around London, and he soon started working for Jonathan Wild’s criminal organization. On March 3, 1720, Dalton found himself in court, however, charged with stealing some aprons. He was convicted on the evidence of William Field, one of the leaders of Wild’s gang, and was sentenced to transportation. In May, he was loaded on to the Honour, a convict ship commanded by Capt. Richard Langley. Wild must have been doing some housecleaning in his organization around this time, because several other members of his gang appeared on board the convict ship along with Dalton, including William Bond, Charles Hinchman, Martin Grey, and James Holliday.

The Honour set sail for Virginia, but it quickly hit a storm off the coast of Spain and began taking on water. Short on sailors, Capt. Langley was forced to let some of the convicts on board out of their irons so that they could help keep the ship afloat. Dalton took the opportunity to form a conspiracy, and when he gave the signal, the convicts grabbed some arms, bound the captain, and took possession of the ship. They forced the captain to drop them off at Cape Finisterre in Spain and, after robbing the ship, set it free. James Holliday later claimed that he had to pay 5 shillings to go to shore with the rebellious group.

To Vigo

After landing, sixteen of the convicts, including Dalton and the other members of Wild’s gang, made their way across the mountains to Vigo. Soon after they arrived in town, they ran into their old captain, who captured and brought them to the mayor. To the frustration of Langley, the mayor refused to prosecute them and even issued them passes to travel through the country. When the convicts realized, though, that the passes said “English thieves” on them, they decided to burn them and take their chances by avoiding towns as they traveled through the countryside.

The group eventually reached the north coast, boarded a Dutch ship, and made their way back to England via Amsterdam. Despite the rebellion, the Honour eventually made it to Virginia, although under the command of a different captain, Robert Russell. Some reports indicated that the group killed the captain during the affair, but William Bond denied it, claiming that Langley traveled safely to the West Indies and died in Virginia.

Consequences

Slowly but surely, the convicts who escaped to Vigo and returned to England were captured and convicted for returning early from transportation or for other crimes. Dalton was discovered in Bristol after committing a burglary, and Wild had him transferred back to London where he faced trial on March 1, 1721 for returning early from transportation. He was joined at the stand by Charles Hinchman, Martin Grey, and Jasper Andrews, who had also escaped to Vigo, along with four other returned convicts who also faced the same charge.

Even though they were all found guilty, Hinchman and Grey were the only ones from the Honour who were hanged for the crime. Inexplicably, both Dalton and Andrews escaped the gallows, despite being found guilty and disturbing the prisoners while awaiting execution. So egregious was their behavior while in prison that the Ordinary of Newgate described how those who went on to be executed singled Dalton and Andrews out during their last speeches:

At the Moment of their Deaths, they were loud in their Exclamations to God, declared they died in Charity towards all Men; but said they should have been more prepared for Death, had they not been disturbed by two Boys, Jasper Andrews and James Dalton, who interrupted their Devotions; and even as they slept play’d vile Tricks, burning their Feet, and pouring Water, &c

We do not know how Dalton and Andrews escaped execution, but Gerald Howson, Wild’s biographer, speculates that Wild was responsible for at least getting Dalton off. Both of them were transported instead, so they must have received some kind of conditional pardon.

Later Years

After spending several years in America kidnapping slaves and then selling them, Dalton returned to England but was almost immediately pressed into naval service. After fighting in the siege of Gibraltar in 1727, Dalton was back in London where he continued his life of crime. He was eventually caught in a robbery and was sentenced to death on evidence given by a professional false witness named John Waller.

A Harlot's Progress3
Image via Wikipedia

Before his execution, Dalton confessed to the Ordinary of Newgate that while in America he “debauch’d and ruin’d some Widows and Girls.” Several of his wives in London together visited him while he was in prison, and he claimed that he had many others, some of whom were transported or were left by him in America. His reputation of being a ladies’ man certainly must have played into the appearance of his name in Plate 3 of Hogarth’s The Harlot’s Progess, where over Moll Hackabout’s bed is a box labeled, “James Dalton his Wigg Box.”

At his death on May 12, 1730, Dalton was a well-known criminal, and his name was used to headline many collected accounts of notorious criminals for a long time afterward.

Resources for this article:

Learn More About Convict Transportation

Learn more about convict transportation to colonial America by reading my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: The Untold Story of How the British Transported 50,000 Convicts to Colonial America.

Amazon.com: Paperback ($16.99) and Kindle ($4.99).

Smashwords: All e-book formats ($4.99).

Most people know that England shipped thousands of convicts to Australia, but few are aware that colonial America was the original destination for Britain’s unwanted criminals. In the 18th century, thousands of British convicts were separated from their families, chained together in the hold of a ship, and carried off to America, sometimes for the theft of a mere handkerchief.

What happened to these convicts once they arrived in America? Did they prosper in an environment of unlimited opportunity, or were they ostracized by the other colonists? Anthony Vaver tells the stories of the petty thieves and professional criminals who were punished by being sent across the ocean to work on plantations. In bringing to life this forgotten chapter in American history, he challenges the way we think about immigration to early America.

The book also includes an appendix with helpful tips for researching individual convicts who were transported to America.

Visit Pickpocket Publishing for more details.

Early American Crimes: Pickpocketing

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In order to settle a debate with her boss, Rebecca, a self-described “curious technical writer,” asked Early American Crime, “Were American pickpockets executed in the 1700’s and 1800’s? I know Britain was big on this, but how about America?”

As far as I can tell, pickpockets were not executed in America as they were in Britain. I can’t definitively say that it never happened, but I haven’t been able to find an instance when it did.

The reason why pickpockets could be executed in Britain but weren’t in America raises some interesting comparisons between the two countries. Throughout the 18th century and into the 19th, Britain executed many of its petty criminals because it relied on strict sentencing laws to deter crime in the absence of a professional police force. The British were fearful that a government-sanctioned police force could easily lead to the creation of a standing army, which could then be used to infringe on individual liberties. This fear was so great that England did not create a professional, organized police force until 1829. Armed with only a lantern and a pole, the City Watch was the only official body patrolling the streets in the 18th century, and it was considered inept and formed the butt of many jokes.

Rising population and overcrowding in the cities contributed to England’s petty crime woes. London in the eighteenth century was by far the largest city in Western Europe, having surpassed Paris earlier in the 17th century, and about one-tenth of the entire population of England lived there. This large concentration of people, combined with no serious organizational body policing the streets, created ample opportunities for acts of petty theft, such as pickpocketing. As crime rates rose throughout the century, the authorities in frustration increasingly turned to capital punishment as a means of discouraging thieves from committing such crimes.

Social conditions in America were quite different from those in England. Both the general and urban populations in America were much smaller, so there were not as many opportunities for criminals to commit the predominantly urban crime of pickpocketing as there were in England. Property crimes in America tended to be more in the form of larceny, robbery, or burglary, although petty acts of crime, such as pickpocketing, did occur.

Each colony in America had its own set of laws, so the punishment for pickpocketing varied among the colonies and changed over time, especially as punishments became based less on biblical and more on secular principles of law. In Massachusetts, theft was generally punished with fines and whippings, although a third-time offender who stole something valued over three pounds could be put to death. Picking a pocket in Massachusetts, in other words, simply wouldn’t bring a death sentence. In Pennsylvania, Mary Isaac received 21 lashes for pickpocketing in 1734. On June 4, 1752, The Pennsylvania Gazette reported that John Broughton was burnt in the hand with the letter “R” and sentenced to servitude for pickpocketing in Annapolis, MD.

African-Americans were often accused of pickpocketing, and the penalty for them was usually whipping. The American Weekly Mercury of Philadelphia reported on June 23, 1743 that a “Negro Fellow having stole a Pocket Bottle of about three Pence or four Pence Value, was ordered to be corrected for it at the Publick Whipping Post.” Just as he arrived for his punishment, the man suddenly pulled a knife out of his pocket and “very heroically cut his own Throat, chusing rather to suffer Death than be exposed to Publick Shame.”

Since the African-American accused of pickpocketing took his own life, his death cannot be construed as an execution. Consequently, I am sorry to report that Rebecca lost the friendly debate with her boss.

Read more about pickpocketing in Early American Crime.

Special note: This post is sponsored by The National Pardon Centre, a family-run, non-profit organization providing the fastest and most efficient Canadian pardon and US entry waiver services in Canada.