“When the chapel is filled, it is a most peculiar sight to behold near upon three hundred heads of convicts—and the heads only, the whole of the prisoner’s body being hidden by the front of the stalls…Nor are the heads there assembled such as physiognomical or phrenological prejudice would lead one to anticipate, for now that the mask-caps are off we see features and crania of every possible form and expression—almost from the best type down to the very lowest. True, as we have said, there is scarcely one bald head to be observed, and only two remarkable men with gray, or rather silver, hair—the latter, however, being extraordinary exceptions to the rule, and coming from a very different class from the ordinary convict stock. Nevertheless, the general run of the countenances and skulls assembled in Pentonville Chapel are far from being that of the brutal or semi-idiotic character, such as caricaturists love to picture as connected with the criminal race. Some of the convicts, indeed, have a frank and positively ingenuous look, whilst a few are certainly remarkable for the coarse and rudely-moulded features—the high cheek-bones and prognathous mouths—that are often associated with the hard-bred portion of our people. Still it has been noticed by others, who have had far better opportunities of judging than ourselves, that the old convict head of the last century has disappeared from our prisons and hulks; and certainly, out of the 270 odd faces that one seems assembled at Pentonville chapel, there is hardly one that bears the least resemblance to the vulgar baboon-like types that unobservant artists still depict as representative of the convict character. There are few countenances, be it remarked, that will bear framing in the Old Bailey dock, and few to which the convict garb—despite our study of Lavater and Gall—does not lend what we cannot but imagine, from the irresistible force of association, to be an unmistakably criminal expression. At Pentonville Chapel, however, as we have said, we see only the heads, without any of the convict costume to mislead the mind in its observations, and assuredly, if one were to assemble a like number of individuals from the same ranks of society as those from which most of our criminals come—such as farm-laborers, costermongers, sweeps, cabmen, porters, mechanics, and even clerks—we should find that their cast of countenances differed so little from those seen at the Model Prison, that even the keenest eye for character would be unable to distinguish a photograph of the criminal from the non-criminal congregation” (164)
Life in Victorian London
Fictions and Forms of Revolution: London 1848
Monday, May 16, 2011
Henry Mayhew, The Criminal Prisons of London
The following passage appeared in Henry Mayhew's The Criminal Prisons in London. Mayhew, one of the original founders of Punch, is best known for his compilation of sketches on the London poor. This less well-known treatise on criminal prisons first appeared in pieces in periodicals (including the Illustrated London News) and then in volume form in 1862. While readers would not have seen this quotation in 1848, they would have read studies like it. How does this passage relate to our discussion of phrenology/physiognomy last Thursday? How might we relate this passage to Mary Barton and, in particular, to the descriptions of Jem, Mary, and Mr. Carson at the trial?
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Mayhew’s article concerning physiognomy and/or phrenology differs greatly from last week’s class conversation. In class, we discussed the wild popularity of this type of study in the late 1840’s and its particular prevalence among members of the middle class. Mayhew’s article rejects these very same notions to which so many people had previously adhered. While those that put stock in physiognomy/phrenology believed that one’s physical characteristics betrayed an inherent criminal character, Mayhew finds, instead, that once the “mask-caps are off we see features and crania of every possible form and expression.” When examining a group of criminals, he sees that they do not, in fact, have uniform bodily characteristics; this very observation undermines the entire physiognomic/phrenological system. It demonstrates that there is not a single physical pattern that lawbreakers and degenerates follow. It is important to note that Mayhew’s article was published in 1862, for perhaps the lapse in years between the 1840’s and 1860’s allowed for a greater understanding (and consequent invalidation) of these areas of study.
ReplyDeleteIt is also significant that Mayhew writes about the tendency of the “convict costume to mislead the mind in its observations.” Without seeing the prison uniforms – and only having seen the faces and heads of the group – he would have had no idea that they were all criminals. Nothing in their anatomy indicates their status as lawbreakers. The uniform as signifier speaks to our human propensity to impute (often hasty) judgment and label others, and this is exactly what happens with Jem Wilson. Without hearing his side of the story, the public has already declared him guilty. They have quickly made up their minds about him. One member of the court comments on Jem’s “’low, resolute brow, his downcast eye, his white compressed lips’” (309) as indicators of his culpability. His companion dismisses these attributes as unimportant, but the main point of the passage is to convey the seriousness with which people undertook such a study of physical characteristics and used it to further their aims or opinions, making it that much harder for people like Jem to change their minds.
I definitely agree with the previous post; this article certainly seems to contradict what we discussed in the last class (the Victorian's attraction to the idea of phrenology for classification and upward moving). Not only does the article dismiss the caricature-like images that society often used to represent criminals, but it also breaks down barriers of character as the criminals "are far from being that of the brutal or semi-idiotic character."
ReplyDeleteI think that Mary Barton has the same aims of the article. Though the physical depictions of characters are detailed and significant throughout the trial scene, they are not used to relay the same message that was popular at the time. Since we are familiar (and, as Gaskell probably hopes, sympathetic) with Jem and Mary, any judgment based on appearance would inherently seem unfair. I also thought it was interesting that in the article, the author uses baboons as an example of what criminals were likened to. However, in the trial scene, the questioner, not the criminal or witness, is described as "monkeyfied," showing Gaskell's opposing aims to society's generalizations. This is another example in which Gaskell and Mayhew's messages seem similar: they both aim to dispel commonly held beliefs about the criminals in the Victorian period.
I think when the author was speaking of 'baboon faces', he was merely referring to the sketches artists would make in courtroom, exaggerated to the point of resembling animals. And while I do agree that the author does not describe the criminals as looking precisely the same features-wise, he does ascribe to them a certain 'look', as if they all held the same attitude in some way.
ReplyDeleteIn relation to Mary Barton, I think the article is making a point about assuming peoples' guilt depending on their faces.