Alright, let’s dig deeper into the mechanics, numbers, and stories behind Britain sending convicts to America, along with how it fit into the colonial landscape.
The System of Transportation
Transportation as a punishment emerged in England as a practical alternative to an overstretched justice system. The 1597 Vagrancy Act laid early groundwork, allowing banishment for "rogues and vagabonds," but it really took off with the 1718 Transportation Act. This law formalized sending convicts to America "beyond the seas" for 7 years (for lesser crimes) or 14 years (for more serious ones), with death as the penalty for returning early. It was a win-win for Britain: clear out jails, avoid executions that might stir public sympathy, and supply cheap labor to colonies hungry for workers.
Convicts were rounded up from prisons like Newgate or local jails, marched to ports like London or Bristol, and loaded onto merchant ships. Conditions were grim—crowded holds, little food, and disease like typhus ("gaol fever") often killed 10-20% before they even reached America. Once there, they were auctioned off to the highest bidder, usually planters or tradesmen, for the duration of their sentence. Unlike enslaved Africans, they had an end date to their servitude, but the reality was brutal—beatings, starvation, and overwork were common, and many didn’t live to see freedom.
Who Were They?
The convicts weren’t all master criminals. England’s legal code—the "Bloody Code"—had over 200 capital offenses by the 18th century, including stealing goods worth more than a shilling or poaching a rabbit. Judges often commuted death sentences to transportation for these petty crimes, especially for first-timers. A 1770s sample from London’s Old Bailey shows typical cases: a 19-year-old caught pickpocketing a handkerchief, a woman pilfering cloth, or a man forging a shilling coin—all shipped off. Some were more serious—highwaymen, burglars, or forgers—but murderers were usually hanged, not transported.
You also had political exiles: Scots after the 1715 and 1745 Jacobite risings, Irish rebels, or English radicals. After the 1685 Monmouth Rebellion, about 800 supporters of the Duke of Monmouth were sent to Virginia and the West Indies, though many died en route or shortly after. Women made up about 15-20% of the total—often convicted of theft or prostitution—and faced extra risks, like sexual exploitation by ship crews or masters.
Numbers and Impact
Estimates vary, but historian A. Roger Ekirch pins the total at 52,000 convicts sent to America from 1718 to 1775, with maybe 10,000 more before 1718. The peak decade was the 1750s, with 1,000-2,000 arriving annually. Maryland and Virginia took the lion’s share—about 75%—because their tobacco plantations devoured labor. The Chesapeake region’s economy leaned hard on indentured servants (convict or voluntary) until African slavery dominated after 1700.
Compare that to the bigger picture: by 1775, the colonies had 2.5 million people. Voluntary indentured servants—poor Europeans seeking a new start—numbered around 300,000 from 1607 to 1775, while enslaved Africans topped 500,000. So, convicts were a minority, maybe 10% of all indentured labor. They mattered economically—boosting tobacco output and infrastructure—but weren’t the colonies’ backbone. Culturally, they left a mark too: some scholars trace early American slang or folk songs to convict influence.
Life in the Colonies
Once in America, convicts worked fields, built roads, or served in households. Masters paid £10-£15 per head (roughly $2,000 today), a bargain compared to voluntary servants or slaves. Runaways were common—ads in colonial newspapers like the Virginia Gazette often list absconded convicts, identifiable by scars, accents, or irons. Punishments for recapture were harsh: extended sentences, whippings, or branding.
A few beat the odds. Anthony Lamb, transported in 1724 for theft, became a respected New York instrument-maker after his term. Most, though, faded into obscurity or died early—malaria and dysentery didn’t care about your sentence length. Women sometimes married out of servitude, but options were slim. Convict labor’s reputation soured over time; planters preferred slaves for life over temporary servants who might bolt.
Colonial Pushback and Endgame
By the 1750s, colonists were fed up. Convicts brought crime—some returned to theft or formed gangs—and competed with free labor. Virginia and Maryland passed laws taxing or banning convict imports, though Britain overruled them. Benjamin Franklin’s 1751 quip about sending rattlesnakes to England wasn’t just wit; it reflected real resentment. The 1775 Revolution ended it entirely—Britain lost its American dumping ground, and the last convict ship sailed in 1776.
Post-war, Britain turned to Australia, shipping 162,000 convicts there from 1788 to 1868. America’s convict legacy lingered, though—some Founding Fathers’ neighbors were ex-convicts, and their descendants quietly shaped the nation.
The Full Picture
Britain didn’t send convicts to create America; it was a side hustle to a larger colonial project. The "land of criminals" tagline oversells it—convicts were a cog, not the engine. The real story is messier: a mix of desperation, exploitation, and survival, woven into a society built by dreamers, slaves, and outcasts alike.