|
Five years after his death, Howe's dwelling was found. The site was chosen with taste, in an open undulating country, stretching to the western mountains: the spot was secluded from observation, was covered with a large honeysuckle, and on a rise sloping to the stream. A gigantic tree, prostrate, which he used as a chopping block, was the boundary to which he permitted Warburton to approach.[91]
The privation, fatigue, and anxiety endured by the bushrangers, they have often depicted with horror. The country, destitute of indigenous fruits or herbs, afforded no safe retreat; and they were compelled to hover round the inhabited districts to obtain ammunition, even when willing to live by the chase. The increase of the settlers has long prevented protracted concealment, and multiplied the chances of capture. Prompted by passion, or allured by the fascination of liberty, an unbroken succession of adventurers have sought shelter in the bush, and passed through the miseries of a vagrant life; but their suppression has usually been easy, and for years the penalty of their crimes certain.
In the progress of these memorials, allusions to bushrangers must occur; but the records of crime are disgusting. The Italian robber tinged his adventure with romance; the Spanish bandit was often a soldier, and a partisan; but the wandering thieves of Tasmania were not less uncouth than violent—hateful for their debasement, as well as terrible for their cruelty. They can rarely be objects of interest, save when points in their career illustrate principles, or exhibit traits in contrast with their ordinary course. It may be proper to notice instances of courage, of constancy, or of unusual suffering: they may set forth the social state out of which they have arisen, and thus the operation of systems; but who would delight to read the dull details of wickedness which crowd the annals of this country?
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 86: Bigge's Report.]
[Footnote 87: The following are some that require no key:—Murderers' Plains, Killman Point, Hell Corner, Murderers' Tiers, Four Square Gallows, Dunne's Look-out, Brady's Look-out, and Lemon's Lagoon.]
[Footnote 88: A more singular instance occurred during the rule of Colonel Davey. A reformed bushranger was dispatched to treat with a young man who had absconded from the commissariat: he resolved to accompany the messenger into the presence of the Governor; but he went armed. The kind old man received him with some rough salutation; but having discovered his pistol, he asked what was the meaning of that? In reply, he stated that he had resolved to shoot the messenger, if he found treachery—a precaution, which rather amused than offended the gallant commander. This statement, made by a survivor of the scene, is a curious relic of government.]
[Footnote 89: "JACK WORRALL.—He was entrapped into the mutiny of the Nore, but the only part which he took in the proceedings, was writing out in a fair hand several papers for the mutineers; and this he declared he did for no other purpose than to indulge his own vanity, in displaying his fine writing, upon which he had highly valued himself. He was tried after the surrender of the mutineers, and transported for life to Van Diemen's Land. 'I was now,' said he, 'determined to make a push for the capture of this villain, Mick Howe, for which I was promised a passage to England in the next ship that sailed, and the amount of the reward laid upon his head. I found out a man of the name of Warburton, who was in the habit of hunting kangaroos for their skins, and who had frequently met Howe during his excursions, and sometimes furnished him with ammunition. He gave me such an account of Howe's habits, that I felt convinced we could take him with a little assistance. I therefore spoke to a man of the name of Pugh, belonging to the 48th regiment—one whom I knew was a most cool and resolute fellow. He immediately entered into my views, and having applied to Major Bell, his commanding officer, he was recommended by him to the Governor, by whom I was permitted to act, and allowed to join us; so he and I went directly to Warburton, who heartily entered into the scheme, and all things were arranged for putting it into execution. The plan was thus:—Pugh and I were to remain in Warburton's hut, while Warburton himself was to fall into Howe's way. The hut was on the river Shannon, standing so completely by itself, and so out of the track of any body who might be feared by Howe, that there was every probability of accomplishing our wishes, and 'scotch the snake'—as they say—if not kill it. Pugh and I accordingly proceeded to the appointed hut: we arrived there before day-break, and having made a hearty breakfast, Warburton set out to seek Howe. He took no arms with him, in order to still more effectually carry his point; but Pugh and I were provided with muskets and pistols. The sun had been just an hour up, when we saw Warburton and Howe upon the top of a hill, coming towards the hut. We expected they would be with us in a quarter of an hour, and so we sat down upon the trunk of a tree inside the hut, calmly waiting their arrival. An hour passed, but they did not come, so I crept to the door cautiously and peeped out—there I saw them standing, within a hundred yards of us, in earnest conversation; as I learned afterwards, the delay arose from Howe's suspecting that all was not right. I drew back from the door to my station, and in about ten minutes after this we plainly heard footsteps, and the voice of Warburton; another moment, and Howe slowly entered the hut—his gun presented and cocked. The instant he espied us, he cried out, 'Is that your game?'—and immediately fired; but Pugh's activity prevented the shot from taking effect, for he knocked the gun aside. Howe ran off like a wolf. I fired but missed. Pugh then halted and took aim at him, but also missed. I immediately flung away the gun and ran after Howe. Pugh also pursued; Warburton was a considerable distance away. I ran very fast—so did Howe; and if he had not fallen down an unexpected bank, I should not have been fleet enough for him. This fall, however, brought me up with him; he was on his legs, and preparing to climb a broken bank, which would have given him a free run into the wood, when I presented my pistol at him, and desired him to stand: he drew forth another, but did not level it at me. We were about fifteen yards from each other—the bank he fell from between us. He stared at me with astonishment, and to tell you the truth, I was a little astonished at him, for he was covered with patches of kangaroo skins, and wore a black beard—a haversack and powder horn slung across his shoulders. I wore my beard also—as I do now: and a curious pair we looked like. After a moment's pause, he cried out, 'Black beard against grey beard for a million!'—and fired: I slapped at him, and I believe hit him, for he staggered; but rallied again, and was clearing the bank between him and me, when Pugh ran up, and with the butt end of his firelock knocked him down again, jumped after him, and battered his brains out, just as he was opening a clasp knife to defend himself.'"—The Military Sketch Book.]
[Footnote 90: This account is taken from the Sydney Gazettes, quoted by Wentworth; Commissioner Bigge's Reports, and Bent's Life of Howe.]
[Footnote 91: Bent, the government printer, published a pamphlet in 1818, entitled, "Michael Howe: the last and worst of the Bushrangers." This pamphlet was reviewed by the Quarterly; "it is," observes the reviewer, "the greatest literary curiosity that has come before us—the first child of the press of a state only fifteen years old. It would, of course, be re-printed here; but our copy, penes nos, is a genuine Caxton. This little book would assuredly be the Reynarde Foxe of Australian bibliomaniacs."—1820.]
SECTION VII.
It was the policy of the local government to relieve the crown from that class of prisoners who were incapable of useful labor on the public works. The settlers from Norfolk Island, who had acquired their liberty, or fulfilled their military service, became the employers of prisoners: many of the masters, in their principles and habits, did not differ from their men—frequently, their accomplices and sharers of their spoil. Those engaged in the interior, in tending the flocks and herds, were often paid in proportion to the increase, and beside the property of their masters, they had charge of their own. This system, fraught with mischief, continued for many years, in spite of the interdicts of the government, and the fatal results exhibited in the courts of justice. Cattle and sheep stealing were carried to an astonishing extent: the owners, ignorant sometimes of the amount of their wealth, confided its safety to men incapable of resisting ordinary temptation. The more opulent estimated their annual loss at one-fifth of the increase; and in unfavorable situations, where many cotters were established, they found the preservation of their stock impossible, and relinquished the attempt in despair.[92] The brand was obliterated, often with great ingenuity: the I became H, C was turned into G, and P into B; the more daring, blotted out all brands, by a heated shovel. Stock yards were enclosed and hidden by the bush, where cattle were slaughtered, and sheep by scores were salted down. Ewes were driven into the interior until their lambs were weaned, when they were returned to their owners. In supplying the commissariat, it was not unusual to drive a flock of sheep for inspection, which were again returned to the fold, and others from a stolen stock passed under the certificate thus obtained; and the plunder of the royal herds, were slaughtered and sold to the crown.
Such depredations were enormous: large gangs were in combination, and the first session held in Van Diemen's Land, brought to light extensive robberies, comprehending twelve hundred sheep.[93] These evils were encouraged by difficulties in the administration of justice. For five years, fifteen charges only were tried by the court of criminal jurisdiction in New South Wales: the prosecutor, the witnesses, and the prisoners were forwarded together. On one occasion, six were sent up for trial: the skins of the stolen beasts were deposited in a cask, and the proof was deemed complete; but of the same cooperage, another was prepared, an admirable imitation. This last was opened in court, but it was found filled with the skins of seals; and, by the ingenious transformation, the prosecution was satisfied.
It is just to observe, that the absence of legal redress not only prompted, but extenuated these violations of law: crime retaliated crime: the lower settlers carried on a system of plunder; but the uncertain tenure of property weakened that moral principle which is its surest defence. The cattle stealer was himself a loser by the man he robbed: a stray beast was branded without question; the owner, when he discovered that his property was beyond his reach, except by the prosecution of the robber, adopted a shorter course. Reprisals thus lost half their guilt: nor is it wonderful that such feelings, as borderers were said once to cherish, prevailed among men who found excuses in their position, and indemnified their past or possible losses by the first spoil which came in their way.
But these combinations led to other crimes. The robbers had their accomplices and abettors: the theft complete, they grew suspicious of each other, and some who disappeared, were sacrificed by the jealousy of their companions. When engaged in these depredations, they usually set a watch: a cautious traveller avoided inquiry, and well authenticated instances proved how perilous, in those days of violence, was an expression of curiosity or suspicion.
To stop these plundering habits, the King's Commissioner Bigge advised a periodical sitting of the court in Van Diemen's Land. In 1821, Judge Wylde visited this country, and for various crimes, twenty-five persons were condemned to death, of whom ten were executed. One hundred and sixteen persons were incarcerated prior to his arrival—a large proportion, compared with the census (7,372); but two years after, the number charged with similar offences proved that crime was not abated. Among those who suffered death was George Richardson: his case illustrated the process by which such felonies were perpetuated. Formerly the confidential servant of Colonel Davey, he was employed by Dr. Scott, and had charge of his flock—himself being an owner of stock. Having received an order to supply Doctor Spence a quantity of sheep, he deliberately separated them from a neighbour's flock, and drove them to their destination, with the coolness proper to an ordinary transaction. The proof of guilt was too clear to be affected by artifice, though calculated to elude suspicion by its very deliberation. Nor is it difficult, when examining the criminal records of those times, to suppose, that the trepidation natural when violating the law, was overcome by the indifference of habit.
Few of the higher classes, it may be presumed, connived at these nefarious transactions: one memorable instance, proved that no class is absolutely safe in an atmosphere of guilt. A settler, connected with a Scottish family of great respectability, thus forfeited his life. It was stated that his robberies were incessant, and that he leagued with bushrangers; to whom, perhaps constrained by fear, he gave notice of danger by signals. A secluded sheep-yard was discovered, and a large sheep brand, of a remarkable shape: at a distance, four hundred sheep were found, bearing the mark newly made, which was contrived to obliterate the brand of Mr. Jones, the owner. The culprit had prepared this flock, to transfer to another person, to whom a number were due. It was in vain that witnesses testified to his character and to the respectability of his house: the jury pronounced him guilty, and he was executed. A friend, who accompanied him to the scaffold, heard him say, that that moment was the most happy of his life! It doubtless brought deliverance. He left behind an infant family, the last of whom was born while the father was in prison, and an aged parent in Scotland; who, long after he was dead, indulged her maternal tenderness, by preparing clothing for his use, and hoping for tidings of his prosperity. His name is suppressed, lest even now the record of his fate might meet the eye of a mourner.
Society, as it then existed, nourished every species of crime: tattered promissory notes, of small amount and doubtful parentage, fluttered about the colony: dumps, struck out from dollars, were imitated by a coin prepared without requiring much mechanical ingenuity; and plate, stolen by bushrangers and burglars, was melted down and disposed of in a similar form.
Nothing was neglected: they burnt the implements of husbandry for the iron; they robbed the gibbet of the chains: they even wrenched the plate from the coffin of an opulent merchant, and stripped him of his shroud.[94]
In looking at the origin of the population, and the various inducements continually offered to the perpetration of wickedness, the total dissolution of manners is no subject of surprise. It was, perhaps, but a small aggravation, that prostitution and concubinage were held too venial for remark: many of the officers of government made no secret of their relation to the women whom they adopted as mistresses, and sometimes respected as wives. Among the anomalies of the day, was the release of such females from compulsory attendance on divine worship, on account of the official preference they enjoyed—a curious immunity from a penal obligation: to be taken, perhaps, as a sinister acknowledgment, that the government was not insensible to virtue—as the Russian courtezan extinguishes the candle of ceremony, and veils her patron saint.[95]
Sorell, on his accession to the government, attempted to reform the more flagrant abuses by which he was surrounded: he was aided in his task by Mr. Humphrey, a man superior, by education and habit, to many charged with similar duties. He established an exact register of the conviction, arrival, and distribution of the prisoners, and appointed times for the muster of such as were assigned. He imposed some restrictions on their wandering habits, and required that those who employed them should answer for their residence. It was the custom, however, to allow the greater part to reside in lodgings provided by themselves; they thus spent their leisure time where they were exposed to perpetual temptation, and nightly robberies attested their diligence. The traders of Hobart Town, for several years, were compelled to sleep on their counters, and watch their property with the most scrupulous care: an inquiry who had been pillaged, became the ordinary morning salutation. The thieves broke through the walls with oriental skill: a stormy night afforded them a harvest. During a tempest of extraordinary severity, which deluged the streets and carried away fences, they contrived to pillage to a great amount; a ladder was discovered at a window, constructed for the purpose, by which they ascended to the upper chamber, and thus proved that no elevation was safe. Nor did they confine their ravages to the towns; they entered the store of a settler, and stripped his dwelling of L400 worth of goods, which they conveyed by boat to Hobart Town. Many were living without any lawful means of subsistence, and as their numbers increased, fraud and robbery were perpetrated in every house, and at every hour of the day.
Such was the state of the colony at the close of Sorell's administration, who found that without the means of nightly restraint, all regulations of police were in vain. On resigning office, he predicted the difficulties of his successor, and warned him that he must expect to contend with increasing crime.[96] To estimate the merit of Arthur's government, it is necessary to remember those evils—with what difficulty authority, long relaxed, is recovered—even by the most skilful and vigorous hands. When a few years had elapsed, the security of the colony was a subject of universal astonishment; and it was boasted, that men slept with their doors unlocked, and their windows unfastened, and often with property to a large amount strewed around their dwellings; notwithstanding, a dangerous temerity. By what means these results were, even partially attained, the reader will be curious to know.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 92: Curr's account.]
[Footnote 93:
Session (Judge Wylde), 1821. Cases. Sheep in question. Owner. 1 300 William Watterson. 2 100 Ditto. 3 250 Daniel Stansfield. 4 150 Robert Gillet. 5 200 Samuel Clements. 6 100 Edward Lord. 7 60 Crown.
Some of these robbers suffered death: others are still in the land of the living; and their names are suppressed, on the presumption of their reform.—Compiled from Gazettes.]
[Footnote 94: Mr. Birch.]
[Footnote 95: Bigge's Report.]
[Footnote 96: "I entered upon the government, at a moment which my predecessor considered a most eventful one. Circumstances, connected with convict population, which it would not be prudent for me to dwell upon in this place, co-operated to render it probable, in the opinion of Colonel Sorell, that crime would rapidly increase."—George Arthur, 1825.]
SECTION VIII.
It will be proper, however, first to retrace the penal history of these settlements, and to mark the incidents which moulded their form, and contributed to their failure or success. The administration of the penal laws cannot be understood, except by a broad and continuous survey. The developments of one colony re-acted on the other: Van Diemen's Land, long the satellite of New South Wales, attended all its motions, and with it prospered or suffered. From the fortunes of that colony, the history of Tasmania is inseparable.
The evils described, were not of a recent origin; they may be traced from the commencement of penal colonisation: the journals of the first officers exhibit all sorts of mischief, which only entered into new combinations as times advanced, and property was diffused. Collins, whose account descended to the close of the century, records a perpetual struggle with vice and crime. What could be expected of men who burned their gaol at the risk of their lives, and the church to escape attendance on worship?
The first expiree, James Rouse, who was established (1790) as a settler, was industrious and successful. Phillip, anxious to test the competence of the land to sustain a cultivator, cleared two acres for this man, erected his hut, and supplied him with food. Fifteen months after, he relinquished his claim on the King's stores, and received thirty acres of land, in reward for his diligence. It thus became common to afford similar facilities to expiree convicts,[97] but generally in vain.
The solicitude of Phillip was displayed in every form of kindness; but the proneness of his subjects to intemperance, defeated all his efforts: he gave them stock; and had scarcely left the land, when his gifts were sold for rum. His successor was not more successful, when he tried the same plan. Cargoes of American spirit produced the madness of intoxication; and the freed settlers neglected their farms, or anticipated their produce to obtain the liquid destruction. Their passion for gaming was universal: they sometimes staked not only their money and their goods, but even their clothing, and were seen to labor in the field, as free from clothing as the savages who surrounded them.
In spite of the dread of famine, they consumed their time and substance in intemperance: sold their seed, lent to insure their harvest. In the distribution of stores, robberies were daily committed; double rations were issued; and Collins ingenuously confesses, that office converted the most trusty into thieves; and that peculations were forgiven, because a change of agency was useless. All in superior circumstances, unprotected by military vigilance, were robbed and robbed again. Missionaries, who fled from Tahiti, found their countrymen more savage than strangers: one was wounded, and plundered of all his property; and another, murdered with an axe, while writing a receipt for a payment, which his destroyer thus hoped to evade. The Governor, in an imploring tone, enumerated the robberies which every day occurred, and hoped that the constables, in whose presence they were committed, did not profit by such crimes! Those who obtained their freedom, were a source of infinite annoyance: unable to depart from the country, they refused all kinds of labor; and, joined with others equally worthless, astonished the officers by the vigour and ingenuity of their spoliations.
The account given by Collins, is a valuable delineation of society when set free from moral influence, and proves how little simple coercion can check a general disposition to crime. So rare was reformation, that a single instance is mentioned with triumph: among the few who redeemed that settlement from utter dishonor, was George Barrington, celebrated for his dexterity as a pickpocket, and for his pathos at the bar; who robbed a prince with the grace of a courtier, and was the beau ideal of swindlers. He was distinguished in New South Wales for his integrity in the office of chief constable, and his diligence as a farmer. He died regretted, in the year this dependency was colonised.[98]
Governor Hunter authorised the opening of a theatre at Sydney. The principal actors were convicts, and in default of a chamberlain, they were threatened, for a second offence, with the penal settlement. The price of admission, one shilling, was paid in meal or rum, taken at the door! Many had performed the part of pickpocket in a London play-house, but at Sydney this was more difficult; yet they were not discouraged: they saw by a glance at the benches what houses were left unprotected, and proceeded to rob them. The motto of the actors was modest:—"We cannot command success; but we will endeavour to deserve it." Their first play was The Revenge: the first prologue, characteristic both of the actors and the audience. The aptitude of one of these couplets, has transferred it into a proverb; but it is worth seeing in its connexion, as a representation of the real sentiments with which violations of the law were remembered.[99]
PROLOGUE.
From distant climes, o'er wide-spread seas we come, Though not with much eclat, or beat of drum, True patriots we, for be it understood, We left our country, for our country's good; No private views disgraced our generous zeal, What urged our travels, was our country's weal. But, you inquire, what could our breast inflame, With this new passion for Theatric fame? He, who to midnight ladders is no stranger, You'll own will make an admirable Ranger. To seek Macheath we have not far to roam, And sure in Filch I shall be quite at home. As oft on Gadshill we have ta'en our stand, When 'twas so dark you could not see your hand, From durance vile our precious selves to keep, We often had recourse to th' flying leap; To a black face have sometimes ow'd escape, And Hounslow Heath has proved the worth of crape. But how, you ask, can we e'er hope to soar, Above these scenes, and rise to Tragic lore?
Too oft, alas, we've forc'd th' unwilling tear, And petrified the heart with real fear. Macbeth, a harvest of applause will reap, For some of us, I fear, have murder'd sleep; His lady, too, with grace will sleep and talk, Our females have been us'd at night to walk. Sometimes, indeed, so various is our art, An actor may improve and mend his part: "Give me a horse," bawls Richard, like a drone, We'll find a man would help himself to one. Grant us your favor, put us to the test, To gain your smiles we'll do our very best; And, without dread of future Turnkey Lockits, Thus, in an honest way, still pick your pockets.[100]
The connection between ardent spirits and the early disorders of our penal colonies is patent at every stage of their progress. Then the habits of the navy were intemperate; rum was considered the great parent of valor. The founders of our colonies never entertained a suspicion that society could exist without its aid. Thus the first fleet, in their progress, touched at a port to take in a large supply, which proved of the most deleterious kind:[101] every vessel was deeply laden with the same commodity. The limitation of wholesale dealing to the officers, was not to restrain its consumption, but to monopolise its profits. The advantage of its distribution, as an incitement to labor, atoned for the moral ravages it spread: for this reward alone, would the prisoners yield their full strength; and when the taste, inflamed by indulgence, drove them to crime, or laid them in the dust, their ruin suggested no reflection beyond the general evils of intemperance. Had the light of science illuminated the imperial authorities, they perhaps had provided some check on this grand incentive to crime.
The deposition of Bligh was occasioned by this fatal appetite: whether from sullenness, or conviction, he discouraged the vendors of rum, and attempted to obstruct their living on the vices of the prisoners. The landing of a still, and its seizure, was followed by a series of altercations, which led to the military rebellion, and terminated his government. This event roused the public attention for a moment, to the state of the colony. In 1811-12 a committee of the House of Commons was appointed "to enquire into the manner in which the sentence of transportation had been executed, and the effects produced by that mode of punishment." The result was remarkable: the committee advised that more constitutional tribunals should be established, and distillation allowed.[102] The ministers of the day feebly vindicated the royal commission violated in the deposition of Bligh; and having once more set in motion the machine of legal government by the appointment of Macquarie, fell back into long slumber. Thenceforth, and for many years, rum was a great agent in the working of government, and the source of private opulence. The monopoly escaped official hands, but the expirees succeeded to the profitable calling. The large fortunes accumulated by many, were rarely derived from any other trade. Their prosperity was traced with startling uniformity: they sold their spirits to the settlers for produce, which they vended at the royal stores: they indulged them with credit, until hopelessly involved, when mortgages were executed, and foreclosed with a rapidity and precision which leaves modern conveyancing in the shade.[103] Individual powers of consumption were incredibly great: the expiree farmer, and his not more intemperate prisoner servant, broached the vessel, poured out its contents into buckets, and drank until they were insensible, or until, roused to frantic vigor, they were swift to shed blood. Such scenes were common.[104]
The specious advantage to the revenue, exhibited by our colonial statistics, protected a vice so useful. The influence of this interest cannot be overstated: to put down spirit drinking would, in equal proportion, disturb colonial finance. The demands of the public service were always in advance of its means, and no colonial administration was found sufficiently enlightened or courageous to add the prevention of this poisonous indulgence to the other consequences of banishment.
Macquarie revived the policy of the Stuarts, in regulating this trade: to Messrs. Wentworth, Riley, and Blaxland, he granted (1810) the exclusive privilege of importation, and by the duty they paid (7s. per gallon), erected a hospital. They proved, in defiance of economists, how monopoly can, sometimes, enlarge the supply, and thus increase the demand. They dispatched their agents to the Mauritius, India, and the Cape, and bought at 2s. 6d. per gallon; and arrack and rum deluged the colony. The success of their enterprise was great: in less than two years they obtained sufficient to raise the edifice, which could not want occupants, and cost more than L20,000.
The effects of this measure were flagrant: a letter, addressed by Marsden, the chaplain, to Macquarie, depicted the wretched condition of the prisoners. The scenes of dissipation which passed before him deprived him of repose. Freed women, living at Parramatta, unprovided with public shelter, ran headlong into vice, and dropped all around him, slain by rum and dissipation. He stood aghast and powerless before the devastation: at times he observed, "I envy the situation of the most menial servant, who is free from this solemn and sacred responsibility."[105] The reply of Macquarie was witty rather than relevant. He told Lord Sidmouth, in effect, that the sorrows of Marsden were too deep for discovery: noted for the cheerfulness, and even gaiety of his temper, his movements were too rapid for grief; and his days, divided between the cares of farming, grazing, and trade—to say nothing of his clerical occupation—left him no time for sorrow.[106] The evils he described are, however, proved by uniform testimony: they must exist where dealing in spirits is the sure path to wealth, and wealth the title to social distinction.
In the Rocks, drunkenness and debauchery were constant and undisguised: persons of respectable appearance, in the day time, were liable to mal-treatment; but those who, in the night, entered the "fortress of iniquity," were usually stripped and plundered. Broils and boxing matches were of perpetual occurrence; the public-houses were "fences;" and degraded women, in large numbers, crowded these dens of thieves.[107]
It is not necessary to give a chronological history of the spirituous epoch. The reign of intemperance commenced with the first proclamation: it received all the protection of law, and the favour of government: it was embodied in our penal administration. Whether it was possible to check its mischief, some may doubt; but that it has clenched the population fast; that it has formed our gangs—crowded our prisons; that it has covered our scaffolds, and filled ten thousand graves—is certain as death!
The correspondence maintained between the convicts and their friends, informed them of their prosperity. The alluring picture, drawn by those whose bondage was past, exhibited a social state, precisely suited to the taste of their kindred and acquaintance. The sensual and dissolute were tempted by the riotous jollity of the "Rocks;" those fond of equivocal commerce with the profits of trade; and others were cheered by the assurance that a friend in bonds would find a nominal master in a relative or former friend, when the formalities of inspection were over.[108] Such as brought out spoil, were besieged with offers of investment, and found themselves in a market where money was the passport to favor and indulgence; others, less fortunate, were pillaged by those who crowded them with welcomes,[109] or drawn into bargains which proved that no cozening art was lost.
To illustrate the occasional good fortune of prisoners, one Hazard, may be worth remembrance: he had been before transported; in 1815, he arrived under a second sentence, for life. While on the voyage out, he purchased a quantity of tobacco: he received, on landing, a ticket-of-leave; immediately married the daughter of an innkeeper, and obtained a license, in the name of his wife, to the same calling: he was patronised by the most respectable settlers, and enjoyed prosperity until his death, only five years after his arrival.
In this colony, the acting secretary of the Governor secured his ticket at his landing, and was long distinguished for the extent of his influence, and the elegance of his dwelling.[110] It may be presumed that, however explained on the spot, these examples were not lost on the republic of thieves; and many were disposed to try that fortune which was so often propitious.
The ordinary of Newgate, Mr. Cotton, a well-known name, in his evidence before the Commons in 1818, has left nothing to conjecture. The prisoners of his day "looked on transportation as a party of pleasure:" they departed from the prison with huzzas, and bade glad adieu to their less happy companions and keepers, exclaiming, "what a glorious kangaroo hunt we will have at the Bay."[111]
"Stabant orantes primi transmittere cursum Tendebantque manus ripae ulterioris amore."
VIRGIL.
To distinguish bravado from triumph, is sometimes difficult; but there must have been little to appall, where there was so much to hope: nor did they perceive that, though many were fortunate, not a few, at the brightest era, groaned in bondage; that degradation and suffering, sometimes, reached their utmost limits, at which death itself stops the hand of vengeance.
The opinions that prevailed among the prisoners, in reference to the intentions of the British government, were adopted by Macquarie himself; he held, like them, that the colony was established for the benefit of persons convicted, and that in forming a system of political government, their social welfare was the grand design to pursue. The notion was not without support. In the nominal list of the first fleet, not more than fifty in all were banished for terms exceeding seven years.[112] To suppose that these were perpetually excluded from the immunities of British subjects, would be to attribute to expatriation a forfeiture beyond the operation of English law. The opinion was further fortified by the distribution of land, under regulations which were intended to encourage their permanent settlement, and limited only to such as, "by their good conduct and disposition to industry, should be deserving of favor, and receive emancipation and discharge from their servitude."[113] This opinion was still further sustained by the comparative neglect of emigration, and the selection of officers, for situations of authority and trust, from the ranks of the prisoners. A comparison of property acquired by the various classes, in 1820, explains many anomalies[114] in their social aspect, and vindicates the policy of Macquarie himself. It is shown, that the emancipists and their children were more than five times in excess of the free; and that their property in land, trade, and commerce, exceeded by more than one-half the possessions of the voluntary settlers.
To erect the barriers of caste around so small a section, and to exclude emancipists from the common intercourse of social life, was a task no Governor could then accomplish, without danger. The changes which followed Macquarie's administration, especially the growth of a free population, enabled his successors to effect what, in 1817 to 1820, had been attempted in vain. The opposition encountered by Macquarie, and which he resented with the ardour of his character,[115] enabled his enemies to represent him as the patron of criminals. He was said to look upon their offences in the light of misfortunes, which they were to repair in the country of their exile, rather than to atone by the severities of toil and privation;[116] and that they were taught to look upon no title to property, as so just as that which had been derived by passing from crime to conviction; from thence to servitude, emancipation, and grant.[117]
The difference of opinion and feeling between the Governor and military, led to the combination of emancipists, who did not veil their former condition, but ennobled it by raising it to a political interest; who adopted a designation, and formed a system of morality, to which it is useless to look for a parallel. They returned with bitterness the reproaches of the free, and insisted on the benefit of the proverb, which ascribes more virtue to the vigor of reformation, than the constancy of obedience.[118] Their advocates would ask, with exultation, whether any emigrants were found whose life would bear a scrutiny? Whether greater crimes are not tolerated by the refinements of vice than those which are commonly visited with the vengeance of the law? or, exhibiting the doctrines of christianity in their aspect to the penitent, they thundered forth denunciations against the proud and the self-righteous! The champion of this system, Mr. W. C. Wentworth, turned the artillery of his wrath against the exclusionists: "and shall not," he exclaimed, in the ardour of his youth, "shall not the sole efficacious remedy be administered (the restoration of the civil rights, capacity to become magistrates and legislators), because a set of interlopers, in nowise connected with the purposes for which this colony was founded, wish to monopolise all the respectable offices of the government, all the functions of emolument, dignity, and power, themselves." "How can they expect pardon of God, if they withhold oblivion from their repentant fellow creatures." "Retrospection should not be pushed beyond the period of arrival, but then subsequent good behaviour should be subject to the severest tests. The re-convicted offender, branded with the lasting impressions of infamy, should be rendered ever after incapable."[119]
Such was the recognised code of the emancipist: it were, indeed, easy to see that the several convictions of some small rogue might not, in their aggregation, equal the crime of him who sinks a ship or burns a house, or the guilt of an atrocious offence, which escapes the last penalty of public vengeance, by some legal error; but to obliterate the first stigma of those who constituted the great body of a population, and whose self-respect was their chief chance of virtue, was not unreasonable.
The evils which rose from this system of oblivion, are to be traced to the indiscretion which formed a community of criminal origin. The effects produced by their equipages, luxury, and licentiousness, on the British population, when set forth in the language of romance, were not to be charged on the local government. It is in the nature of commerce to collect wealth: the traders were nearly all expirees; they became rich, not because they were transported, but because some were industrious, others saving, and others fraudulent; and because they were in the midst of a system of expenditure, which made the Treasury of England their bank.
The acquisitions of men, who had been prisoners, with great absurdity and forgetfulness, were attributed to the laxity of the local governors. Even now, many who are dextrous, shrewd, and persevering, acquire considerable properties: their prosperity awakens no alarm, because they are lost amidst a dense population, and are surrounded by emigrants, who by similar vices or virtues are not less opulent, but far more numerous.
The first sound that fell on the ear of the prisoner, when he stood before Governor Macquarie, tended to animate his confidence: having enquired of his treatment through the voyage, he then informed him that the past was left to oblivion, and that the future would determine his condition,[120] This was often no vain promise: the sentiments he expressed were, more or less, recognised by the preceding Governors. The Commons, in 1812, gave his policy their sanction, and Earl Bathurst, though with more reserve, favored the same opinion. Macquarie never disguised this system of mercy.[121] When transportation only contemplated the establishment of a colony, this system of oblivion was useful; but the passage from the bar of justice to liberty, was sometimes not longer than the passage from England: and those who rose to wealth, by their character and career, gave to public retribution the aspect of grimace.
On the appointment (1814) of H——, as superintendent of convicts, an office then of greater real power than any other in the penal department of the British empire, Macquarie, says Bigge, gave an enumeration of his merits; and continued frequently to publish in the Gazette eulogies on his character. This is slily sketched by the Commissioner himself, and with more precision by Dr. Reid, who was on the spot at the time. Mr. H—— was a convict, and was placed in office at Sydney, but breaking into the King's stores, either in person or by deputy, and taking away a bale of slops, he was re-transported to Norfolk Island, where he won the government notice by his diligence as a dealer in pork, and was recommended by the commandant to Macquarie. This man exercised his functions in the Turkish style: he rigorously depressed all unseasonable attempts at virtue; but nothing was impossible to those who were able and willing to pay, for whom he was accustomed to act as banker. His manners were coarse to loathsomeness, and he addressed the prisoners in language which outstripped their own;—"eclipsed them in wickedness, and in revolting filthiness." Nor was his domestic position more respectable: his wife was one of two, too bad for endurance, who were forced from the colony, and sent to England for reformation.[122] Such was the man entrusted with more than magisterial power.
While the female prisoners were landed, his clerks became brokers for masters, friends, and husbands. When ships arrived, boats crowded round them, and the visitors chose, among the female prisoners, a wife, or such other relative as might answer to their prior engagements.[123] Having sworn to these ties of kin, the superintendent assigned them according to the plan of the contracting parties, who, within twenty-four hours, had been total strangers. We may imagine the eclat with which so clever a device would be appeared to the correspondents of the fortunate transport.
Those, whose appearance or dullness excluded them from these resources, were taken to the factory. On their arrival, "according to custom," they were met by a body of men, who, having satisfied the constables, spread before these women the spirits and provisions provided for the feast of welcome: what followed need not be told. The connivance of the superintendent, with the most of these excesses, might be expected from his character; and although he displayed considerable tact in subjecting the prisoners to his control, his appointment and prerogatives almost justified, and they fully accounted for, the rancour with which his patron was opposed and condemned.
Thus Macquarie did not exercise the caution requisite to preserve his generous designs from parliamentary censure: imprudent efforts to give effect to his conviction, involved him in a contest which hastened his recall, and it is said, shortened his life.[124] He raised to the bench, and invited to his table, several emancipists of wealth, and made their social reception the condition of his favor. When elevating to offices, he sometimes violated his own rule of forgetting the past, by basing his eulogy on the reformation of the person he delighted to honor. The details of their character, furnished by the indignant or malicious, cast an air of ridicule on their public reception. The subalterns of the army refused to join their superior officers in entertainments, at which emancipists were guests. The resentment of Macquarie aggravated the quarrel, until the differences divided the colony into factions, and finally originated the emancipist party; and by provoking observation, tended to increase the severity which fell on their successors.
In those times of despotism, many were transported for political offences, which in Great Britain leave no moral stigma, and when forgiven by the crown, close no social circle.[125]
The prosperity of New South Wales—founded on the government expenditure, so vast as to excite the most serious complaints, but so subtle as to elude imperial censure—was but slightly participated by Van Diemen's Land. Its later occupation, the low character of the first settlers, and the subordinate station of its ruler, afforded no room for fashion. Many emancipists in Sydney had become wealthy by the vices of the less cunning and thrifty, and created a social state, without a precedent. They could command the most expensive luxuries; and, compared with them, the highest officers of the government were poor. They looked for the honors of opulence, and did not perceive that an emancipist must pass through oblivion to honor; and that, in this case, to distinguish is to stigmatise.
It was observed by Mr. Bigge, that when Macquarie made some emancipists magistrates, and professed by that dignity to restore them to the station they had lost, he forgot that they were elevated to a rank they had never filled. It was equally true, that a large number of free colonists, whose pretensions in early life were equally limited, rose by opulence to a superior station, and higher pretensions: to deny the usual appendages of their position, would be virtually to degrade them. Whether just or not, the formal exclusion of emancipists was a supplement to the penalty of the law, and, as such, must have been taken. It is not the actual exaltation, but equal eligibility of British subjects to the highest station, which constitutes that equality so grateful to Englishmen: the son of a sweep may keep the conscience of a king.
There were freed men, who were even detestable for their wealth; others, whose offences would not have excluded them from any society. Such was that of Mr. Redfern, transported when a boy, for dropping a word to the mutineers of the Nore. Society will ever make its exceptions, founded on the nature of the offence, the proofs of reformation, or the general character; but Governor Macquarie resolved to wash out the stain by authority, and to treat those as enemies who disputed his policy, or refused to share in its promotion.
The determination of the free to make no distinction between those who merited the oblivion of their offences, and emancipists atrocious in their history and character, rendered the hostility of caste more inveterate.
The measures of Macquarie were followed by years of faction: a press, representing emancipist interests and emancipist principles, and making the Governor the instrument or the object of the most violent hatred; still, on their side, the emigrants were often positive, virulent, and contemptuous.
From this, Van Diemen's Land was free: there were few whose wealth or education could pretend to rank. One gentleman so situated, Mr. Gatehouse, by his respectability and intelligence, won the respect of all classes: he was admitted to the table of the Governor, and was only distinguished by the colonists for his enterprise and probity. When an office of trust was in their gift, they chose him to share it with the chief merchants of the island; and thus pronounced the judgment which good men will adopt, against both an undiscriminating ban and an unlimited admission.
The Commissioner, Bigge, joined with the anti-emancipists, in almost every prejudice or opinion. Great as were the services he rendered by his keen observation and courageous delineation of colonial society, in this, and some other instances, he overlooked those facts of its history, which gave a disastrous prominence and authority to the emancipist settlers; and enabled them to claim consideration which offended the free men, not always superior in substantial merit.
But disabilities, far more serious and unexpected, united the emancipists, and obtained the sympathy of many who could not be charged with indifference to crime. The remission of punishment was in the discretion of the Governor-in-chief: the 30 Geo. iii, authorised the granting of pardons, and the commission of the Governor, which recited this provision, was supposed to convey the power. In 1811, Macquarie declared that a long course of good conduct would be an essential preliminary; but the rule was more easily stated than enforced: and, in 1813, one day in the year was fixed for pardons. It was declared that conditional pardons could only be granted when ten years, or half sentence, had expired; or, for absolute pardons, until fifteen years, or three-fourths had been fulfilled.
Fond of dispensing mercy, he appointed a day, when those who thought themselves entitled crowded his presence. The petitions, drawn up by letter-writers, dwelt on every topic calculated to move to compliance; among which were profuse compliments to the Governor's benevolence and humanity. The concourse of suppliants was often very great—many venturing to ask, who did not hope to obtain; and whose sole claim to mercy, was the bad terms on which they lived with the law. The crowd pressed on with their (700) petitions, which the Governor read in their presence, and by one letter of the alphabet gave liberty to the impatient captives, or sent them back to merit freedom, as freedom was then merited. The Court of Clemency, thronged by suitors, would have afforded a fine subject to the artist—a scene unique in the history of man.
The dispensation of pardons was not regulated by any uniform principles. The interest of superintendents was given, as the reward of task-work performed for the crown; more successful, by services rendered to themselves. Such was a common condition; but many are mentioned, who obtained their pardons on easier terms than personal labor. The loan of a horse and cart, driven by his assigned servants, procured the liberation of the lender; others hired vehicles to convey his Excellency's baggage during his progresses, and thus payed in money the price of freedom. The bargain was public, and questions of national policy never entered the minds of him who granted, or those procuring the royal mercy. The grant of pardons, thus formed an important department of Macquarie's government.
A decision of the Court of King's Bench, Bullock v. Dodds, where the plaintiff was an emancipist, seemed to peril their freedom and property. The defendant, when sued in England on a bill, pleaded the attaint of the plaintiff, who had received the pardon of Macquarie. The validity of these remissions, which affected great numbers, was thus brought to the test. The Chief Justice, Abbott, declared that an attainted person was, in law, as one civiliter mortuus: he might acquire, not because he was entitled to hold any possession, but because a donor could not make his own act void, and reclaim his own gift. Thus, a person giving or conveying property, could not recall it, but the convict attaint could not hold it; and it passed to the hands of the crown, in whom the property of the convict vested. This being the law, any ticket-of-leave holder, or any person whatever standing on the pardon of the Governor, was liable to be deprived by the crown, or obstructed at any moment in attempting to recover by suit at law.
The practice of the Sydney Supreme Court had long virtually rejected such distinctions. The mixed considerations of convenience and equity induced the judges to allow the witnesses and plaintiffs the same privilege, whether under attainder or not. Judge Field[126] declared, that while the crown did not interfere, the court would not touch the property of the convict: nothing but an attested copy of conviction, would be admitted as evidence of conviction. Nor would the proof of transportation, of itself, as the law then stood, prove the incompetence of a witness. His time might have expired; his expatriation might have been the condition of his pardon, or his offence might have been a misdemeanour, and not involve the corruption of blood;[127] and, except for perjury or subornation of perjury, the King's pardon might restore his competency to give evidence, or hold property. On these grounds the courts of New South Wales were enabled to evade the plea of attainder in bar of a just action.
But the decision of the King's Bench discovered a serious omission in the forms of pardon issued by Macquarie, and further enquiry even threw doubt on his power to grant them at all. The Act of Parliament empowered the crown to delegate the authority to remit a sentence of transportation, to the Governor of New South Wales; but the commission of Macquarie said nothing of this power, except the criminals were colonially convicted, when he could grant reprieves and pardons. His instructions authorised the pardons to British offenders, and those instructions were warranted by parliamentary enactment; but the royal commission gave no such power: and thus all his pardons were legally void.
Another essential condition was neglected: to give effect to the pardon of the Governor, it was required that he should transmit to the Secretary of State the names of the persons whose sentences he remitted, to secure their insertion in the next list of general pardons. This course had never been taken: no list of remissions had been furnished to Downing-street.
Among the extraordinary omissions of the government at home, was in many instances the place of trial, and even the sentence of the transports; to save the labour of penmanship, "ditto," was sometimes the sentence found under another name, in the line of which 7, or 14, was written; not at full length, but in numerals. Some "indents" exhibited erasures: in one, a sentence of seven years had been converted to "life." More strange than all, some were sent without even their names, and others without any sort of information of their crime or sentence; and the authorities felt justified in gaining by artifice, from the unsuspecting prisoners themselves, what the ministers had neglected to furnish.
An Irishman, who could give no information, was suited to a sentence by a process of analogy: he was set down, in compliment to his comrade, for "life."[128] The regular transmission of this kind of information was neglected, chiefly, by the Irish executive; ever slow to perceive the obligation of reason and justice. The longevity of abuses is among the most instructive lessons of history. The first fleet left their lists with the owners of the transports: soon after their arrival, several prisoners declared their sentence was completed; this, the government was unable to affirm or deny, and therefore did nothing; but one of the claimants, having expressed his discontent in a manner disrespectful to the Lieutenant-Governor, received 600 lashes, and six months in irons![129] Such atrocious neglect of the first principles of equity, is a sad set-off against the license of indiscriminate pardons. The Roman judge was a far better casuist: "For it seemeth to me unreasonable, to send a prisoner, and not withal to signify the crimes laid against him."[130]
A quarrel between Mr. Justice Field and Mr. Eagar, an emancipist attorney, displayed more forcibly the effect of the decision of the English Chief Justice. Judge Field presided at a session of magistrates at Parramatta, when Eagar attempted to act as counsel: this was prevented by the court; and the judge, as chairman, expressed himself, in reference to Eagar, in terms of severe disapprobation and contempt, stigmatising him as a common barrator, or mover of quarrels, whom the Governor might justly prosecute for sedition, or banish from the colony. Eagar, not daunted by the philippic of the judge, resolved to sue him in a secondary court for slander, and to recover back fees paid in the Supreme Court, and which he alleged the judge had levied illegally; but Judge Field ordered his solicitor to file an affidavit of his belief that Eagar was under attainder, and prayed for time to obtain an office copy of his conviction: this course was allowed, and the action defeated.
Not long after, Eagar attempted to recover certain penalties imposed by the Act of Charles II. on foreign merchants trading in the British plantations: the penalties were enormous, and the law was obsolete. The particular object of Eagar was, to suppress the competition in the sale of tea, which the superior trading connection of Messrs. L. Mestre and Co. enabled them to offer. The French merchant very fairly pleaded the attaint of the plaintiff, and Judge Field, in giving judgment, insisted on the obvious injustice of the suit; that men, whose trading was permissive—themselves the creatures of indulgence—and who, by connivance, were allowed to become wealthy and prosperous—should endeavour to rouse forgotten and restrictive statutes, to put down useful commerce, and abuse privileges conceded by the clemency of the court; to force the court to become the instrument of oppression: he therefore allowed the plea of the merchants to bar the action of the plaintiff.
All this, on the face of it, was just; but the emancipists saw that it gave to the judge a discretion which laid them helpless at his mercy: the same plea might be offered, to cover a fraudulent debtor, or deprive a large majority of traders of legal protection. Nor was it a competent answer, that the policy of the colony had been of an opposite description: to stand on suffrage, was to stand in peril.
Prompted by this feeling, the emancipists formed themselves into committees at all the settlements, and obtained the countenance of the Governor to a plan for moving the British legislature, to correct the anomalies of the law. At a public meeting, Mr. Redfern presiding, the administration of Governor Macquarie was the subject of their glowing eulogy. They predicted, that his name would be immortalised by the gratitude of their descendants, who would remember his policy with veneration. Against this meeting the judges protested, and professed to foresee great peril to the dignity of their tribunals, and to the public safety; but the calm and guarded proceedings of the emancipists avoided the scandal, and gained their cause some support. The indignation of the judges was unreasonable: in the administration of justice they had usually protected the equitable rights of the emancipists; but it was no reason for astonishment, that a large trading interest felt uneasy in holding by indulgence privileges of so great importance, and were anxious to obtain, by a declaratory statute, the remedy of their grievances. Mr. Eagar was nominated secretary to their body, and instructed to obtain parliamentary support: in this he was successful.
In the discussions of the Commons, the discontent of the emancipists was condemned by the tories, and vindicated by the whigs. Peel charged Macquarie with culpable neglect, in omitting to forward the lists; but he observed, no general pardon had been issued for fifty years: what it meant, was unknown! The Act required the Governor to send home the names, and the Secretary to insert them in a general pardon; but he could not tell in what manner to perform this duty. This was, he said, of no practical moment: an individual might sue out a pardon, under the great seal, without cost. He strongly opposed vesting by law in the Governor, a power to grant absolute pardons—an interference with the prerogative royal, and dangerous to public justice. To sustain this opinion, he instanced the case of a man who had been transported for forging a title to an estate, and who, under such a pardon, had returned to Scotland to pursue his claim.
The zeal of Eagar in the cause of the emancipists, provoked the animadversion of ministers: they hinted that he was liable to be treated as a felon at large, and was indebted to the lenity of the executive for his safety; but Sir James Mackintosh, who gave respectability to the cause he espoused, vindicated the claims of the emancipist with great warmth, and excused the earnestness with which the confirmation of his title to liberty had been sought. That great and good man displayed, in every debate, the generosity of his temper: always the enemy of despotism, every form of oppression called him into action, and the emancipists were largely indebted to his eloquence. After long delay, this agitating question was settled, but with a reservation of serious moment. The new law[131] confirmed all the pardons granted in New South Wales, with the rights they included; rendering them of full effect when they should be ratified by the crown. It further provided that no future pardon should be held valid until allowed by the Secretary of State, and then only within the colony of New South Wales and its dependencies—a serious drawback from the attractions of the boon, as understood before; but which was no barrier to the further extension of the royal clemency.
The opponents of Macquarie argued, that the profusion of mercy had not been followed by reformation: the emancipists, they alleged, were unchanged in principle, and never abandoned their habits of crime. This view was sustained by Mr. Wentworth's representations, which were intended to subserve another end. He attempted to prove that financial oppression had driven back the expiree on his former course, which the anti-emancipists maintained he had never forsaken.[132] It was, however, the universal opinion, that atrocious crimes were diminished, and misdemeanours increased.
The penal statistics were swollen by the extensive jurisdiction of police: by the cognizance of acts which, in other countries, are left to opinion. The distribution of public money, annually increasing towards a quarter of a million, placed within the reach of all the pleasures they were accustomed to obtain, without the risks of crime. A closer inspection does not, however, exalt our opinion of their moral worth; of 4,376 emancipists, reported by the chaplains, 369 were tolerable, but 296 only were respectable.[133] Nor was the accusation without force, that the proof of reform, admitted by Macquarie, was the possession of money; that to thrive, by whatever means, within the letter of the statute, was to honor the law, and to deserve well of the crown.
The administration of Macquarie was attacked with great vehemence, and every detail of his scheme called in question. The British government never had a system: the ministers treated every difficulty as a thing apart from all others; and thus to arrest one form of mischief, they released another. They directed the establishment of separate settlements, and thus occasioned the vast expenses of their control. They then approved the concentrated labor of Macquarie, and when its cost became severe, advocated dispersion. Every parliamentary discussion terminated in the abandonment of some principle, or the establishment of some novelty. Always affected by the passing aspect of transportation, the people of Great Britain never acquire a connected view of the causes which alter its results; and have thus condemned or applauded the local officers, for events casual or inevitable.
To diminish the pressure of the prisoners on the British treasury, Macquarie granted tickets-of-leave: the holders, without employment and without capital, became robbers. Then he turned his thoughts to public works of permanent utility, and requiring continued labor: these projects gradually absorbed his attention, and perhaps perverted his judgment. Inspired by an able architect, whom the chances of public retribution had thrown in his way, his erections greatly surpassed the simple constructions of his predecessors. The settlement assumed the aspect of a large building establishment, such as were seen in the ancient world, when captives were subject to task-masters, and generals were chief masons. The more skilful the mechanic, the greater his value to the works, and the smaller his chance of liberty: yet, to reconcile him to his lot, he was mostly permitted to choose his own abode, and was enabled, by his surplus time, to obtain all the comforts and luxuries of the colony. But the expenditure, which added to the opulence of the settlers, enabled them to build also: they looked with envy on the government which detained so large a proportion of the mechanical power: they forgot that the unproductive employment of large numbers created the demand for their crops, without which no dollar had been theirs to spend. Their outcries rung in the ears of the Commissioner: he blamed the improvidence of the Governor, who had rejected their applications, and threw some ridicule on his architectural ambition. The Commissioner only saw a gaol, but Macquarie believed, that when he erected an edifice he was forming a model; and that in aiming at symmetry and refinement, he was fixing the taste of a people.
The difficulty of reconciling adverse elements in penal colonisation, has been ever visible. The modern principles of colonisation demand concentration: the establishment of so many branch settlements was considered, from the beginning, a great economical error; and by those unaware of its justification, was the subject of strong and pointed condemnation. No sooner, it was observed, had the settlers landed their boxes, than they started a division for Norfolk Island; and others, in rapid succession, broke off into fragmentary colonies. The same bridges, schools, and courts, would be sufficient for ten thousand united people, but must be multiplied with the separate settlements. It was urged that the concentration of labor would decrease the expense of its supervision, and extend the resources of the community, by varying its industry. Such were the doctrines of political writers,[134] but when they were adopted they were found to produce unforeseen practical results.
The dispersion of the first era was necessary to safety: in the time of Macquarie the public was in no apprehension of rebellion or famine, and thus prisoners could be combined; but the aggregation of bad men will always exhibit an appalling and disgusting aspect: and the excesses, sufferings, and debasement connected with the public works, the peculation of the officers and the indolence of the men, brought again in view the evils of associated labor; and reinforced the arguments for dispersion. The men, when together, became dealers, and indulged in all the vices of cities; scattered, they became savage, and filled the colonies with crimes.
The secondary settlements have been often the theatres of great iniquity and oppression, and the commandants have dared injustice, which no supreme authority would venture: to these meaner, and sometimes contemptible agents, the prisoners must be subjected, on the principle of dispersion. Such practical difficulties start up at every instant, and thus expose the policy of the government to perpetual oscillation. An instance, of later date, will demonstrate the danger of minute sub-divisions, which exclude a public press and a public opinion. A commandant resolved the seduction of the daughter of a prisoner: he crept into her father's house, and offered violence. The father wrote to the Governor (Brisbane); his letter passing, of course, through the office of the commandant; who read the complaint, and ordered the aged parent to the triangles. The doctor, knowing the nature of the offence, refused his sanction, on a plea of health. The tyrant still insisted; but the obstinate humanity of the surgeon prevailed. What then? The father was sent from the station, and, after a while, the daughter was thrown on Sydney, a prostitute. This officer had an accomplished wife: she detected improper company in her room, and her exasperated husband broke her arm to repress her outcries! It is to such hands that the prisoner has been too often entrusted: to men, only known for their vices—broken down by debt and dissipation—who have taken refuge, with the wrecks of their fortune and reputation, in a military command.
The obligation of this history to the Reports of Mr. Bigge, renders it proper to explain the origin, nature, and operation of his commission. The representations of several colonists, that the administration of Macquarie was subversive of public justice and favorable to crime; that his expenditure was lavish, and his projects ridiculous, had reached the house of parliament. To these charges the Rev. Samuel Marsden, chaplain and magistrate, added the full weight of his authority. This person, from his long residence, had assumed a prominent place among the magistrates. By his connection with two great societies for the propagation of Christianity (the Church, and the London), he commanded large influence in the religious world. Nothing can be more opposite than the estimates of his character, given by the partisans of the emancipists, and those furnished by his ecclesiastical associates. Soured by the vices rampant around him, and perhaps deteriorated by the administration of justice, when it was hard to distinguish the magistrate from the executioner, he does not always appear to have merited the unmeasured eulogies of his friends.[135] He was, however, celebrated for his attention to the islands of the Pacific, whose welfare he promoted with exemplary diligence: his house was the home of the missionaries who touched at Port Jackson; whose letters spread through Europe the reputation of his benevolence. In reference to his ultimate intentions, their apprehension of his character was probably just; but the magisterial office is rarely compatible with the duties of an ecclesiastic—least of all, when punishments were discretionary, and inflicted on the spot. The servant, charged with a misdemeanour, he flogged; who then took to the bush, and re-appearing, charged with a capital crime, was hanged; and the magisterial divine attended him on the scaffold. This was not peculiar; most clergymen were magistrates. But Marsden was warm and sensitive—perhaps, resentful. The punishments he inflicted were distinguished for their severity: his opposition to vice, his unsuccessful struggle to prevent it, and some methods of coercion, not then uncommon, but which now look like torture, exposed him to the hatred of the prisoners. The differences between Macquarie and this resolute clergyman, were frequent—they ended in open rupture; and at length became so personally offensive to the Governor, that Marsden was dismissed from the commission of the peace.
Mr. Henry Grey Bennet, member of parliament for Shrewsbury, addressed a letter to Earl Bathurst, founded on the material furnished by Mr. Marsden. This publication delineated a great variety of abuses, and charged Macquarie with ignorance, rashness, and oppression. Having thus prepared the way, a motion was made in parliament, which led to the issue of the Commission of Enquiry, entrusted to John Thomas Bigge, Esq., a relative of Mr. Bennet, and by profession a barrister. The Commissioner was attended by Mr. Hobbs Scott, formerly a wine-merchant, and afterwards Archdeacon of New South Wales; on whom the prosecution of the enquiry devolved, in the event of the Commissioner's death. The appointment of this commission was extremely painful to Macquarie: it expressed distrust in the government, or the ascendancy of his opponents in parliament. Nor was it difficult to foresee, that an enquiry conducted by one individual, who must depend on the statements of factions, and colonial factions, of all the least scrupulous—always liable to many serious errors—must become a formidable instrument in the hands of one or other of the parties struggling for supremacy.
The Commissioner landed (October, 1819) in New South Wales, with the honors due to a gentleman distinguished by the royal confidence. The civil and military officers, with a large assemblage of the colonists, collected to witness the ceremony of presentation. The oaths of allegiance and supremacy were administered by the Judge Advocate, and the commission read. This document recited that it was necessary to enquire into the laws, regulations, civil, military, and ecclesiastical; and to ascertain the revenue, trade, and resources of the colonies. The Commissioner was charged to report the information collected, "and his opinions thereon."
Macquarie addressed the Commissioner, and congratulated himself and the colony on the arrival of a servant of the King so eminent. Nothing could inspire him with greater hope for the public weal. The assistance in his power, he would cheerfully afford: the prosperity of the colony would gratify the first wish of his heart.
The Commissioner then addressed the assembly, stating that though the terms of his commission were explicit and comprehensive, he deemed it right to embrace the occasion to explain the object of his Majesty's government, and to prevent any possible misapprehension of their motives. The increase of transportation to these colonies, and the doubts entertained of the efficacy of the system of secondary punishments, had prompted the enquiry. His arrival had been delayed, but the time would give opportunity for minute researches into the state of crime, undertaken by Mr. Buxton; and for the revision of the penal code. It belonged to himself to examine whether these colonies had answered the purposes of their institution, and whether their attainments in civilisation had not disqualified them from fulfilling their original design; or whether it were yet possible, to render transportation a terror at home, and an instrument of punishment and reformation. This, though the principal topic, would not exclude others of moment: he expected assistance from every class, and felt encouraged from the display of candour by the head of the government; from which he augured the most beneficial results. He then concluded in the following words:—"I will only add, I bring to this investigation the deepest conviction of its importance: I approach it without any prejudice that can influence my future opinions, either of systems or individuals. I feel a determination, from which no earthly consideration shall move me, of conducting it to its conclusion, with the strictest impartiality to all. In the course of the enquiry I mean to pursue, I shall give sufficient opportunities to those whose attendance I may require, to consider the points submitted to them for their declarations and opinions. I wish to impress on every one, that my principal object is the attainment of truth; and while I am free to declare, that nothing is to be apprehended from a fair and candid disclosure of truth, yet I am equally bound to apprise the community, that nothing is to be hoped for from the concealment of the truth for private purposes, or from the gratification of malignant feelings and personal resentment." He warmly acknowledged his honorable reception from Governor Macquarie, who assigned him precedence to all but the Lieutenant-Governor.
The Commissioner's arrival in Van Diemen's Land (1820) was attended with the same military honors: wherever he went he was received with ceremony, and watched with jealousy and apprehension. The habits of Mr. Bigge were simple, complacent, and industrious: he labored to draw from all classes their feelings and designs—nothing escaped his curiosity. His opinions are given on every subject with equal quietness, whether they relate to the salting of beef, or the most profound questions of government. The Reports he sent to the Secretary of State descended to the smallest matters: he noted every rood of land granted, and every ration issued. The style of these documents is felt to be prolix, and their arrangement perplexing. Their contents excited very general interest in England, and in Australasia unbounded indignation.[136] Whatever epithet of hatred and contempt could be applied by impotence and wrath, for years fell on the imperturbable Commissioner and his secretary. He was charged with eaves-dropping, back parlour scandal, partisanship, and wilful lying. The particular delineation of individual conduct, and which he thought requisite to illustrate systems, excited the utmost vexation: it was painful to officers, to find their character, their habits, and the profits of their places, laid open to national observation. Perhaps, those details were sometimes beyond an obvious political necessity; but the plain exhibition of principles in old English phrases—giving vice its true name—measuring the results of transportation by a standard recognised outside both the mess-room and the gaol—was of vast advantage to the colonists themselves. The reference made to Bigge's Reports in this work, however, is always limited to facts, which could not be distorted or colored. His connections, and the spirit of his mission, prejudiced his judgment, respecting a system which had been the growth of circumstances; but his integrity is transparent, not less than his prepossessions. Time will extract the sting of his disclosures; but their moral results will remain. They tended to destroy those evils which can only live in a congenial atmosphere—and wither, except in the shade.
The Reports of the Commissioner were published by order of the House of Commons in 1822: Macquarie closed his official career on the 1st December, 1821, having held the government for twelve years. Thus their labors and opinions came before the parliament and the world together. Macquarie, when he considered himself entitled to reward, for a period of service of unusual length, found it was necessary to defend his reputation. Betrayed by the warmth of his temper into some irregular acts, which ill expressed the ordinary spirit of his government, he was vulnerable to his assailants. The flogging of freed men, notwithstanding the precedents left by his predecessors; the scandalous neglect of moral precautions, in the disposal of the women; and prominent instances of unjustifiable lenity; constituted serious deductions from his merit. He was, however, exempted from pointed censure, and the crown assigned L1,000 per annum, as his retiring pension. This favor was scarcely conferred, when he was called before that Tribunal, where conduct and motives are seen together: he died at St. James's, London, on the 1st January, 1824, and his remains were carried to the Isle of Mull, North Britain; where, according to his last wish, they rest in the tomb of his fathers.
General Macquarie is entitled to be regarded as the founder of these colonies: before his time, they were but hutted camps. To their improvement he devoted all his energies: he foresaw and felt the inspiration of their destined greatness. His disinterestedness was exemplary: throughout his long administration, no sordid project was connected with his name. No patriot ever labored more earnestly for his country's welfare. Every device, which seemed to promise material advancement to the community, was certain of his favor; every contribution from the meanest settler, was sure to obtain its reward.
But if he accepted neither gold nor silver, as the recompense of his cares, he took pledges of the colonies for the immortality of his name. It resounds in every place, and is united in every form with the natural objects and history of these regions. The name of his son, of his wife, of his native mountains and early haunts—all flourish in this hemisphere: of these, many were conferred by the flattery or kindness of his friends. Their frequent recurrence confuses geography; they echo from hill to dale, and from the river to the sea.[137]
The moral character of Macquarie was not impeached. Happy in his domestic relationships, as a husband and father he exhibited an example of fidelity and tenderness. The people quickly learned this key to his regard, and he felt with all the gratitude of a generous nature, the reverence paid to the virtues of his wife, and the interest affected for his son. Mrs. Macquarie supported his efforts to reclaim the colonists from the habits of concubinage, which disgraced their early history: she could not, without utter seclusion, enforce those social rules which are proper in more settled society; but her sentiments were unequivocal, and hastened many a marriage—and saved many escutcheons from a bar! Mrs. Macquarie survived her husband ten years: she expired at Mull, in March, 1834.
The indifference to moral worth, ascribed to Macquarie, will admit another view. He estimated too highly the agency of affluence, in raising the moral sentiments; but in promoting external decency, it has considerable power. Macquarie was a soldier, and a man of the world: those delicate springs, which set in motion the finer affections of the soul, are open to the Christian, but are not found on the battle field, in the courts of law, or the seat of government. The notions of this ruler were material: he believed that another generation would cast off the habits of the passing, and abhor and forget the vices of their parents: nor was he mistaken.
The admitted political errors of Macquarie's government must be largely ascribed to his peculiar position. When we scan the system he constructed or modified, justice requires that we should consider, not only the materials he possessed, but the condition in which he found them. The rebellion of the officers had destroyed their authority, the stores were exhausted, discipline relaxed, and those who had exacted the most servile homage, were themselves dependant for impunity on the royal clemency. He employed the discretion with which he was entrusted, to avert the miseries of forfeiture; but he could not restore the relations between the bond and the free, which revolt had shaken; or dispense with the counterpoise of emancipist support. |
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