Crime and Punishment in Aristasia

An extract from The District Governess

Crime and Punishment in Aristasia are rather a different matter from what they are in certain other lands. After all, in Telluria a woman is several dozen times less likely than a man to commit a serious crime. “Vandalism” is unknown in Aristasia, as, virtually, are burglary, violent robbery, rape, and many other crimes.

Murders are committed very occasionally, usually in passion. Now and again a car is stolen, especially one of those rather luscious open-topped Sepharellas. Precisely because it is rare it is so easy. No one ever locks anything and girls often leave their keys in the ignition all the time as it is the best way of not mislaying them. The temptation to hop in and drive away is occasionally too much for a wayward brunette.

The commonest solution of a crime is confession. No, the commonest is Anonymous Return. More often than not the car is found back in the drive after a day or two: the fur stole slipped back onto the rack in the shop, or left draped over the back of one of those nice little chairs the big stores provide for their customer’s benefit, quite as if the owner had mistakenly walked off without it. We remember the case reported in The Morning Letter of a girl who tried three times to “lose” a delicious sable in the shop from which she had stolen it, each time having it returned by an over-helpful assistant. Eventually she thrust it back at the fourth assistant, saving “It’s not mine, it’s yours! I swoggled it!” and fled from the shop before time astonished girl could say “Very good, modom.”

Anonymous Return is not considered meritorious in Aristasia. The offender ought to confess and accept her punishment. Every one knows that, and the Anonymous Returner does her returning with a very bad conscience. In Arcadia, Amazonia and Novaria it is much rarer. There confession is the usual solution of crime; but in the other provinces. especially Vintesse and Quirinelle, Anonymous Return has sadly become quite common and is considered a token of a decline of public morality.

There are no prisons in Aristasia and only a few law-courts. Punishment is more personal, more home-like. Indeed, the distinction between the public and the private is one which Aristasians do not strongly recognise. Society is considered to be a greater family with the Queen or Empress or local Governor or Countess (depending on what level we are considering) as its mother, and her servants as elder sisters.

This last sentence requires two comments. First, that elder sisters are highly regarded as figures of authority in Aristasia and second that every constabel, judge, District Governess and other agent of the law is regarded as a servant of the Queen or local Magistra. Law is personal rather than impersonal. This does not (as the outlander might suppose) leave it open to vagary and abuse because Aristasia (like more traditional forms of society elsewhere) is a unanimous society. There is no real disagreement about what is right, or what people ought to do. There is no real disagreement that custom is sacred. Every action of life is ultimately determined by spiritual law and the wisdom of the Revered Ancestresses. The power of the Magistra (meaning any ruler and also a court judge) to uphold custom and the Sacred Harmony is absolute; but she is not an Absolute Ruler, because she, no less — indeed far more — than any other, is the servant of the Harmony [the authoress is here translating” the word thamë — Editress]. She cannot invent her own laws. She can impose her own will but only within the strict and time-honoured limits of what is proper.

There have been many changes in recent centuries, but Aristasia has changed without becoming anti-traditional. Each of the new ways is incorporated within the Sacred Harmony [thamë] and becomes a part of its new adaptation—and each of the provinces has done this in a slightly different way.

The law in Aristasia covers many things which in some other places might not be recognised as having a legal, or even a moral, dimension. Such things as slovenly dress, impoliteness or vulgar language may be dealt with by the police. I have seen a Quirinelle constabel in her shining silver helmet and wide— flaring navy blue skirt (one can only guess how many layers of petticoat it is that those trim black-seamed calves disappear into) stop a full-grown blonde for the offence of yawning in the street without covering her mouth.

The girl was terribly embarrassed by her crime and explained that she was really very tired and not thinking clearly. The constabel unclipped the dark leather strap from her belt and told the girl to hold out her hand. The strap darted across the palm of her neat white glove with a report like a pistol-shot. She squeezed her blue-shadowed eyes tight and her white teeth bit into her scarlet lower lip. After a giddy moment of recovering herself from the shock, she thanked the constabel nicely, accepted an elder-sisterly kiss from her and proceeded on her way, nursing her throbbing hand. They do sting, those police straps, and one may be sure that she will not yawn in such an uncouth manner for some time to come.

Harmony, Comeliness, Seemliness: such are the watchwords of Aristasian ‘Law and Order’—a phrase from another land which would not be in the least out of place upon Aristasian lips, but would carry with it quite another colouring. All law, to the Aristasian, is akin to the laws of mathematics or of music—an expression of the underlying harmony of being; all order fundamentally the order of a dance, which is ultimately the great dance of the cosmos, presided over by Themis the Angel of Harmony [the correct name is Thamë, but in view of the wide ‘profane’ readership of these books, the authoress uses and Ancient Greek equivalent — Editress]. To an Aristasian, grace in the sense of ‘gracefulness’ is not a different concept from grace in the theological sense. They are intimately bound up one with another—and all of life is intimately bound up with them.

Constabels are found mostly in the cities. In many country areas — and some smaller towns — law is maintained mostly by the District Governess, a figure whose duties are as varied as those of the village postmistress. She oversees the education of children who are taught at home (as many children are, especially in country areas). She has been known to discipline a private governess with her own strap if she feels her charges are not being kept up to standard. In the stricter provinces she may inspect houses to see that they are neat and tidy. She is also the main administratrix of official punishments, either ordained by herself or by a magistra. In urban areas the City Governess usually carries out punishments more serious than those given summarily by the constabels.

As the title ‘Governess’ implies. Aristasian subjects are, in certain respects, treated throughout life as children in the great family of the Empress. The captured law-breaker in Aristasia feels more like a child outside the headmistress’s study than an adult trapped by the pitiless machine of the State. There is never absent an understanding on all sides that punishment is given with love and for the true good of the culprit, to bring her back into grace and restore her to the heart of the Familia. Although the true dignity of an Aristasian is far greater than that of a person in a degenerate land (as may be seen by the unfailing neatness of dress of even the lowliest subject), her consciousness of herself as a child, makes her more supple and yielding in the hands of public discipline. She has not built her persona upon a hard and brittle ‘personal independence’ which must be stripped and crushed by the punishing State, reducing her almost to the level of nonentity. Rather she can be corrected as a child is corrected:— sometimes severely but with love and with her own tearful acceptance. It is an act which unites her rather than severing her from the whole, which leaves her neither broken nor bitter, but at peace, and happier than before.

The punishments suffered by Aristasian law-breakers are much the same as those suffered by naughty children. Often exactly the same, though where the offence is much more serious, the punishment must be so too. The City or District Governess may set lines and other impositions. She may administer the cane or the strap. Where a magistra orders such punishments, the Governess will carry them out. In the case of impositions, she will receive them, mark them and decide whether they are acceptable or whether further punishment is in order. For serious criminal offences, many thousands of lines may be set which may take months or even (occasionally) years to complete. Usually the offender is left at liberty, handing in her imposition weekly to the Governess. Wherever the magistra has not laid it down, she will decide such things as how much must be completed each week. Often a weekly or monthly strapping or caning may be part of the sentence.

Occasionally an offender may be kept in detention at the Governess’s office, usually reporting at nine o’clock each morning and sitting at a desk to work on her imposition. Very occasionally she may be directed to sleep in a dormitory attached to the Governess’s office, not being permitted to return home for all or part of her detention.

Such custodial sentences are usually given when for some reason a girl is no longer regarded as a trusted subject able to conduct her affairs responsibly. In the longer term the usual cure for this state of affairs is for the offender to be bonded as a maidservant in the house of one of the senior householders of the locality. In some cases this will be done for the period of an imposition, with the girl perhaps working as a maid in the mornings and writing out her punishment in the afternoons and evenings until it is complete.

If a girl is deemed constitutionally incapable of managing her own affairs, she may be bonded indefinitely to a mistress. Usually such a girl will come to the attention of the court through some offence, but although bonding may be imposed as a punishment. it is within the power of the court to impose indefinite bonding without any offence being laid against the bondmaid, in the best interests of herself and of the Familia. Such compulsory bonding is rare. and may be appealed against annually, when a different magistra must review the case and interview all persons concerned. However, such appeals are even rarer, for a maid thus bonded is usually much better so and settles down happily into her new life, after, perhaps, an initial period of especially strict discipline.

These cases are the extreme ones in Aristasia. The usual workings of the law concern everyday offences against neatness, politeness and propriety—what are legally termed “decorum offences” — along with minor acts of pilfering or nuisance. For these a few hundred lines and/or a good strapping or caning is the usual chastisement.

This piece is extracted from The District Governess. Learn more about it.