Here I will concentrate on issues revealed by study of localities within Wales. There are reasons, beyond simply that of my own expertise, which suggest that this provides a particularly illuminating perspective on such matters, but such differences and tensions in response to crime are not restricted to the geographical boundaries covered here.

The roots of a concept of “crime”, a wrong, that is, which is considered to require the intervention of the state rather than simply the victim or their family, run very deep. Serious harms were designated “Pleas of the Crown”, in the wake of the Norman Conquest, and could be prosecuted on his behalf without an individual complainant from the time of Henry II. But in the nineteenth century major changes took place in the legal system designed to create a national framework for the suppression of crime. The trend can be seen in the introduction and then national extension of the “New Police”, and the regulation of local gaols, culminating in the nationalisation of local establishments in 1877. In their turn criminals too became “nationalised” by attempts made to fix an identity which transcended particular localities, by photographs, central registers, and later fingerprints. The collection of statistics on crime and criminals and a development of theories of criminology recast offenders as being more than merely local irritants into members of a “class” which could be found across the jurisdiction.

Of course, these changes did not completely change local responses to crime. Offences still needed to be prosecuted by individuals, or at least complaints passed to competent authorities. The police remained answerable to the County or Borough authorities, even after an Inspectorate was established. Indictments (prosecutions for serious crime) had to be approved by Grand Juries and questions of guilt decided by Petty Juries, both made up of men (only men) who lived within a web of specific connections. In lesser offences, local magistrates, their appointment dependent on wealth and status within the local area of their rather than legal experience, might exercise considerable discretion. Local gaols could differ widely in diet, regime and conditions before 1877: a fact which drove the passage of the Act. James Lewis could be counted with his fellow thieves from Sunderland or Portsmouth in the statistics, but was still “Jemmy Llawen” (“Jolly Jemmy”) to his friends, to the Police, and possibly to his victims, in mid-century Carmarthen.

In Wales a number of elements increased the distance between official and “popular” responses to criminality. Language was an obvious difference. Although The use of Welsh in court had been banned in 1536; the rule did not change the fact that this was the language, often the only language, of many ordinary people. The perceived religious affiliation of the law, its association with the Established Church, was less welcome in areas of Wales which identified as strongly non-conformist. Moreover there were enduring traditions extending back to medieval law (“The Laws of Hywel Dda") rooted in ideas of compensation between wrongdoer and victim rather than punishment by the state.

Is there evidence that such factors actually had any effect on practice in Wales; that dispute settlement retained a local dimension rather than being integrated into the newer, supposedly more uniform procedure of the nineteenth century? I think that there is. If we take firstly the question of the initiation of criminal proceedings then levels of crime in Wales, particularly within rural areas remained low. Wales was described, and described itself, as the “Land of White Gloves” (“Gwlad y Menyg Gwynion”) from the presentation of these articles to Assize Judges, indicative of the absence of crime from the Calendar. In 1873 Beaumaris Gaol on Anglesey (Ynys Mon) flew a white flag and opened its doors to indicate an absence of prisoners. The lack of Welsh crime might be attributable to the moral probity of the Welsh, but could also indicate that it was simply not being brought to court. If it did come before a tribunal there was the possibility (a probability in certain types of crime - sexual offences, attempted suicide, concealment of birth) that juries might fail to approve an indictment, or to convict at trial. “Perverse” judgments, which seemed to defy the evidence, were a source of adverse comment ascribed to the lack of intelligence of Welsh jurors. In fact, it is clear that in rural counties the jurors often did not understand the trial, conducted in English, a language in which they were not proficient. As such, decisions were made on the general character of the accused rather than the details of the evidence.

It should not be thought that a failure to prosecute or convict within the formal court structure meant that the Welsh were indifferent to, or approved of, wrongdoing. Rather it was the case that some offences were conceived of as properly within the realm of individual compensation or communal shame rather than that of judicial proceedings and legal guilt. We learn that even in the later C19th a case of homicide was compromised by the families involved and compensation made, notwithstanding the illegality of such a process. Other cases might be settled by reference to the arbitration of a non-conformist minister. Punishment too could be administered by local communities. Social ostracism in face-to-face village communities could be a powerful sanction, the withdrawal not only of social familiarity but also of credit and employment, could lead to migration. “Formal” communal punishments, carried out by neighbours, could have the same effect. The “ceffyl pren” (“wooden horse”) was a form of ritualised shaming involving the noisy carrying of a transgressor in person or in effigy in procession. Such local customary sanctions, once common, seem to have been in decline in England in the nineteenth century but increased their frequency and geographical distribution within Wales at that time.

So the records of local police forces, prisons, and the Petty and Quarter Sessions of magistrates are not only fascinating resources, but restore the importance of the community understanding of criminality.  

Further Reading

Richard W. Ireland Land of White Gloves? A History of Crime and Punishment in Wales (2015)

The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of the British Association for Local History (BALH). Any content provided by our contributors is of their own opinion and is not intended to malign any individual, group, organisation, or entity.