CHAPTER 10. THE FATE OF GEORGE BASS.

It has been already mentioned that Bass Strait was named by Governor

Hunter on the recommendation of Flinders. There is no reason to suppose

that George Bass himself made any claim that his name should be applied

to his discovery. One derives the impression, from a study of his

character as revealed in his words and acts, that he would have been

perfectly content had some other name been chosen. He was one of those

rare men who find their principal joy in the free exercise of an intrepid

and masculine energy, especially in directions affording a stimulus to

intellectual curiosity. He did not even write a book or an essay about

the work he had done. The whaleboat voyage was tersely recorded in a

diary for the information of the Governor; his other material was handed

over to Collins for the purposes of his History of New South Wales, and

Bass went about his business unrewarded, officially unhonoured.

It is curiously significant of the modesty of this really notable man

that when, in 1801, he again sailed to Australia, he mentioned quite

casually in a letter that he had passed through Bass Strait without any

reference to his own connection with the passage. It was not, to him,

"the strait which I discovered," or "my strait," or "the strait named

after me," but simply Bass Strait, giving it the proper geographical name

scored on the map, just as he might have mentioned the name of any other

part of the globe traversed during the voyage. The natural pride of the

discoverer assuredly would have been no evidence of egotism; but Bass was

singularly free from all semblance of human weakness of that kind. The

difficulties battled with, the effort joyfully made, the discovery

accomplished, he appears hardly to have thought any more about his own

part in it. Not only his essential modesty but his affectionate nature

and the frank charm of his manner are apparent in such of his letters as

have been preserved.

The association of Bass with Flinders was fruitful in achievement, and

their friendship was perfect in its manliness; it is pathetic to realise

that when they parted, within a few weeks after the return of the Norfolk

to Sydney, these two men, still young in years and rich in hope, ability

and enterprise, were never to meet again.

As from this time Bass disappears from the story of his friend's life,

what is known of his later years may be here related. His fate is a

mystery that has never been satisfactorily cleared up, and perhaps never

will be. He returned to England "shortly after" the voyage of the

Norfolk. So wrote Flinders; but "shortly after" means later than April,

1799, for in that month Bass sat on a board of inquiry into the Isaac

Nicholls case, to be mentioned again hereafter.

In England, Bass married Elizabeth Waterhouse, sister of his old shipmate

Henry Waterhouse, the captain of the Reliance. With a wife to maintain,

he was apparently dissatisfied with his pay and prospects as a naval

surgeon. Nor was he quite the kind of man who would, in the full flush of

his restless energy, settle down to the ordinary practice of his

profession. Confined to a daily routine in some English town, he would

have been like a caged albatross pining for regions of illimitable blue.

Within three months of his marriage Bass had become managing owner of a

smart little 140-ton brig, the Venus, in a venture in which a syndicate

of friends had invested 10,890 pounds. In the early part of 1801 he

sailed in her with a general cargo of merchandise for Port Jackson. The

brig, which carried twelve guns--for England was at war, and there were

risks to be run

--was a fast sailer, teak-built and copper-sheathed, and was described as

"one of the most complete, handsome and strong-built ships in the River

Thames, and will suit any trade." She was loaded "as deep as she can swim

and as full as an egg," Bass wrote to his brother-in-law; and there is

the sailor's jovial pleasure in a good ship, with, perhaps, a suggestion

of the surgeon's point of view, in his declaration that she was "very

sound and tight, and bids fair to remain sound much longer than any of

her owners."

But the speculation was not an immediate success. The market was "glutted

with goods beyond all comparison," in addition to which Governor King,

who succeeded Hunter in 1800, was conducting the affairs of the

settlement upon a plan of the most rigid economy. "Our wings are clipped

with a vengeance, but we shall endeavour to fall on our feet somehow or

other," wrote Bass early in October, 1801.

A contract made with the Governor, to bring salt pork from Tahiti at

sixpence per pound, provided profitable employment for the Venus. Hogs

were plentiful in the Society Islands, and could be procured cheaply. The

arrangement commended itself to the thrifty Governor, who had hitherto

been paying a shilling per pound for pork, and it kept Bass actively

engaged. He was "tired of civilised life." There was, too, money to be

made, and he sent home satisfactory bills "to stop a few holes in my

debts." "That pork voyage," he wrote to his brother-in-law, "has been our

first successful speculation"; and he spoke again in fond admiration of

the Venus; "she is just the same vessel as when we left England, never

complains or cries, though we loaded her with pork most unmercifully."

While he was pursuing this trade, the French expedition under Baudin

visited Sydney, and they, on their chart of Wilson's Promontory gave the

name of Venus Bay to an inlet on the west side of Cape Liptrap. They also

bought goods to the extent of 359 pounds 10 shillings from "Mr. George

Basse."* (* Manuscript accounts of Baudin, Archives Nationales BB4 999.)

Bass now secured fishing concessions in New Zealand waters, from which he

hoped much. "The fishery is not to be put in motion till after my return

to old England," he wrote in January, 1803. Then, he said playfully, "I

mean to seize upon my dear Bess, bring her out here, and make a poissarde

of her, where she cannot fail to find plenty of ease for her tongue. We

have, I assure you, great plans in our heads, but, like the basket of

eggs, all depends upon the success of the voyage I am now upon." It was

the voyage from which he never returned.

There is another charming allusion to his wife in a letter written from

Tahiti: "I would joke Bess upon the attractive charms of Tahiti females

but that they have been so much belied in their beauty that she might

think me attracted in good earnest. However, there is nothing to fear

here." He speaks of her again in writing to his brother: "I have written

to my beloved wife, and do most sincerely lament that we are so far

asunder. The next voyage I have she must make with me, for I shall badly

pass it without her." The pathos of his reference to her in a letter of

October, 1801, can be felt in its note of manly sympathy, and is deepened

by the recollection that the young bride never saw him again. "Our dear

Bess talks of seeing me in eighteen months. Alas! poor Bess, the when is

uncertain, very uncertain in everything except its long distances. Turn

our eyes where we will, we see nothing but glutted markets around us."

The pork-procuring ventures continued till 1803. In that year Bass

arranged to sail beyond Tahiti to the Chilian coast, to buy other

provisions for the use of the colony. Whether he intended to force the

hand of fortune by engaging in the contraband trade can only be inferred.

That there was certainly a large amount of illicit traffic with South

America on the part of venturesome captains who made use of Port Jackson

as a harbour of refuge, is clear from extant documents.

The position was this. The persistent policy of Spain in the government

of her South American possessions was to conserve trade exclusively for

Spanish ships and Spanish merchants; and for this purpose several

restrictions were imposed upon unauthorised foreign traders. Nevertheless

the inhabitants of these colonies urgently required more goods than were

imported under such excessive limitations, and wanted to get them much

cheaper than was possible while monopoly and heavy taxation prevailed.

There was, consequently, a tempting inducement to skippers who were

sufficiently bold to take risks, to ship goods for Chili and Peru, and

run them in at some place along the immense coast-line, evading the lazy

eyes of perfunctory Spanish officials, or securing their corrupt

connivance by bribes. Contraband trade was, in fact, extensively

practised, and plenty of people in the Spanish colonies throve on it. As

a modern historian writes: "The vast extent of the border of Spain's

possessions made it impossible for her to guard it efficiently. Smuggling

could therefore be carried on with impunity, and the high prices which

had been given to European wares in America by the system of restriction,

constituted a sufficient inducement to lead the merchants of other

nations to engage in contraband trade."* The profits from success were

great; but the consequences of detection were disastrous. (* Bernard

Moses, Spanish Rule in America, 289.)

Now Bass, as already related, had brought out to Sydney in the Venus a

large quantity of unsaleable merchandise. He could not dispose of it

under conditions of glut. He had hoped that the Governor would take the

cargo into the Government store and let it be sold even at a 50 per cent

reduction. But King declined to permit that to be done. Here, then, was a

singularly courageous man, fond of daring enterprises, in command of a

good ship, with an unsaleable cargo on his hands. On the other side of

the Pacific was a country where such a cargo might, with luck, be sold at

a bounding profit. He could easily find out how the trade was done. There

was more than one among those with whom he would associate in Sydney who

knew a great deal about it.

One or two sentences in Bass's last letters to Henry Waterhouse contain

mysterious hints, which to him, with his experience of Port Jackson,

would be significant. He explained that he intended taking the Venus to

visit the coast of Chili in search of provisions, "and that they may not

in that part of the world mistake me for a contrabandist, I go provided

with a very diplomatic-looking certificate from the Governor here,

stating the service upon which I am employed, requesting aid and

protection in obtaining the food wanted. And God grant you may fully

succeed, says your warm heart, in so benevolent an object; and thus also

say I; Amen, say many others of my friends."

But was the diplomatic-looking paper intended rather to serve as a screen

than as a guarantee of bona fides? "In a few hours," wrote Bass at the

beginning of February, 1803, "I sail again on another pork voyage, but it

combines circumstances of a different nature also"; and at the end of the

same letter he added: "Speak not of South America to anyone out of your

family, for there is treason in the very name." What did he mean by that?

He spoke of "digging gold in South America," and clearly did not mean it

in the strict literal sense.

It is true that the Governor was anxious to get South American cattle and

beef for the settlement in Sydney, but can that have been the only motive

for a voyage beyond Tahiti? "If our approaching voyage proves at all

fortunate in its issue, I expect to make a handsome thing out of it, and

to be much expedited on my return to old England," Bass wrote in January.

He would not have been likely to make so very handsome a thing out of

beef in one voyage, to enable him to expedite his return to England.

The factors of the case are, then, that Bass had on his hands a large

quantity of goods which he had failed to sell in Sydney; that there was a

considerable and enormously profitable contraband trade with South

America at the time; that he expected to make a very large and rapid

profit out of the venture he was about to undertake; that he warned

Waterhouse against mentioning the matter outside the family circle, "for

there is treason in the very name"; and that he was himself a man

distinguished by dash and daring, who was very anxious to make a

substantial sum and return to England soon. The inference from his

language and circumstances as to the scheme he had in hand is

irresistible.

The "very diplomatic-looking certificate" which the Governor gave him was

dated February 3, 1803. It certified that "Mr. George Bass, of the

brigantine Venus, has been employed since the first day of November,

1801, upon His Britannic Majesty's service in procuring provisions for

the subsistence of His Majesty's colony, and still continues using those

exertions;" and it went on to affirm that should he find it expedient to

resort to any harbour in His Catholic Majesty's dominions upon the west

coast of America, "this instrument is intended to declare my full belief

that his sole object in going there will be to procure food, without any

view to private commerce or any other view whatsoever."

Notwithstanding the terms of this certificate, however, there is clear

evidence that Governor King was fully aware of the nature of the trade

conducted with the Spanish-American colonies by vessels using Port

Jackson; and though it may be that Bass did not tell him in so many words

what his whole intentions were, King knew that Bass had a large stock of

commodities to sell, and could hardly have been ignorant that a

considerable portion of them were re-shipped on the Venus for this

voyage. In a later despatch he alluded to vessels which carried goods

"from hence to the coasts of the Spanish possessions on the west side of

America," and he observed "that this must be a forced trade, similar to

that carried on among the settlements of that nation and Portugal on the

east side of America, and that much risk will attend it to the

adventurers."

Bass sailed from Sydney on February 5th, 1803. He never returned, and no

satisfactory account of what became of him is forthcoming.* (* The writer

of the article on Bass in the Dictionary of National Biography says that

"except that he left Australia in 1799 to return to England nothing

certain is known of Bass's subsequent history." But we know fairly fully

what he was doing up till February, 1803, as related above. The Bass

mystery commences after that date. The Encyclopaedia Britannica (11th

edition) finds no space for a separate article on this very remarkable

man.) Later in 1803 the brig Harrington, herself concerned in the

contraband trade, reported that the Venus had been captured and

confiscated by the Spaniards in Peru, and that Bass and the mate, Scott,

had been sent as prisoners to the silver mines. In December, 1804,

Governor King remarked in a despatch to the Secretary of State that he

had been "in constant expectation" of hearing from Bass, "to whom, there

is no doubt, some accident has occurred." The Harrington had reported the

capture of the Venus before King wrote that. Why did he not mention the

circumstance to the British Government? Why did he not allude to the

country to which he well knew that Bass intended to sail? It would seem

that King carefully avoided referring in his official despatches to an

enterprise upon which he had good reason to be aware that Bass had

embarked.

War between Great Britain and Spain did not break out till December,

1804, after the seizure of the Spanish treasure fleet by British frigates

off Cadiz (October 5th). But in previous years, while Spain, under

pressure from Napoleon, lent her countenance to his aggressive policy,

English privateers had freely plundered Spanish commerce in the south

Pacific, and some of them had brought their prizes to Sydney. That this

was done with the knowledge of the authorities cannot be doubted.

Everybody knew about it. When the French exploring ships were lying at

Sydney in 1802, Peron saw there vessels "provided with arms, fitting out

for the western coast of America, stored with merchandise of various

kinds. These vessels were intended to establish, by force of arms, a

contraband commerce with the inhabitants of Peru, extremely advantageous

to both parties."

It would not, therefore, be wonderful that the Spanish authorities in

Chili or Peru should regard Port Jackson as a kind of wasp's nest, and

should look with suspicion on any vessel coming thence which might fall

into their hands, however much her commander might endeavour to make of

his official certificate declaring the Governor's "full belief" in his

lawful intentions. The irritation caused by the use that was being made

of Sydney as a privateering and contraband base of operations can be well

imagined. As early as December, 1799, indeed, Governor Hunter related

that a captured Spanish merchant vessel had been brought into port, and

he acknowledged that "this being the second Spanish prize brought hither,

we cannot be surprised, should it be known that such captures make a

convenience of this harbour, if it should provoke a visit from some of

the ships of war from the Spanish settlements on that coast." The

Spaniards would naturally be thirsting for revenge; and a ship sailing

direct from the port of which the raiders made a "convenience" would be

liable to feel their ire, should there be the semblance of provocation.

The authorities would have been justified in holding up the Venus if they

suspected that she carried contraband goods; and their treatment of her

officers and crew might be expected to reflect the temper of their

disposition towards Port Jackson and all that concerned it.

If, as the Harrington reported, Bass and his companions were sent to the

mines, the Spanish officials managed their act of punishment, or revenge,

very quietly. But at that time there was not a formal state of

belligerency between England and Spain, though the tension of public

feeling in Great Britain concerning Spanish relations with France was

acute. If it were considered that such an act as the seizure of the Venus

would be likely to precipitate a declaration of war, the motive for

secrecy was strong. Secrecy, moreover, would have been in complete

conformity with Spanish methods in South America. It is not recorded

whether the seizure of the Venus occurred at Callao, Valparaiso or

Valdivia; but a British lieutenant, Fitzmaurice, who was at Valparaiso

five years later, heard that a man named Bass had been in Lima some years

before.

A friend of the Bass family residing at Lincoln in 1852 wrote a letter to

Samuel Sidney, the author of The Three Colonies of Australia, stating

that Bass's mother last heard of him "in the Straits of China." But this

was evidently an error of memory. If Bass ever got out of South America,

he would have written to his "dear Bess," to Waterhouse, and to Flinders.

The latter, in 1814, wrote of him as "alas, now no more." There is on

record a report that he was seen alive in South America in that year, but

the story is doubtful. He was a man full of affectionate loyalty to his

friends, and it is not conceivable that he would have left them without

news of him if any channel of communication had been open, as would have

been the case had he been at liberty as late as 1814. His father-in-law

made enquiries, but failed to obtain news. The report of the Harrington

was probably true, but beyond that we really have no information upon

which we can depend. The internal history of Spanish America has been

very scantily investigated, and it is quite possible that even yet some

diligent student of archives may find, some day, particulars concerning

the fate of this brave and adventurous spirit.

The disappearance of Bass's letters to his mother is a misfortune which

the student of Australian history must deplore. He was observant, shrewd,

an untiring traveller, and an entertaining correspondent. He probably

related to his mother, to whom he wrote frequently, the story of his

excursions and experiences, and the historical value of all that he wrote

would be very great. The letters, said the Lincoln friend, were long,

"containing full accounts of his discoveries." His mother treasured them

till she died, when they came into the possession of a Miss Calder. She

kept them in a box, and used occasionally to amuse herself by reading

them. But some time before 1852 Miss Calder went to the box to look at

them again, and found that they had disappeared. Whether she had lent

them to some person who had failed to return them, or had mislaid them,

is unknown. It is possible that they may still be in existence in some

dusty cupboard in England, and that we may even yet be gratified by an

examination of documents which would assuredly enable us to understand

more of the noble soul of George Bass.

It has been mentioned that Flinders and Bass did not meet again after the

voyage of the Norfolk and Bass's return to England. Though Sydney was the

base of both Flinders in the Investigator and Bass in the Venus in 1802

and 1803, they always had the ill-luck to miss each other. Bass was at

Tahiti while Flinders lay in port from May 9th to July 21st, 1802. He

returned in November, and left once more on his final voyage in February,

1803. Flinders arrived in Sydney again, after his exploration of the Gulf

of Carpentaria, in June, 1803. A farewell letter from him to his friend

is quoted in a later chapter.

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