SECTION IV.

The convicts first sent to New Holland, entered on the voyage with

dread. The letters they addressed to their friends, while the fleet lay

at anchor, were examined by the officers: they were filled with

lamentations. They deeply deplored, that the distance of their exile cut

off the hope of return; the perils of so long a voyage alone seemed

frightful: should they reach the shores of New Holland, they expected to

be destroyed by savages, or to pine away in want. The females seemed

least to fear their banishment; and while several of the men were deeply

moved, a spectator, who curiously remarked the mental influence of their

prospects, saw only one woman weep.[64]

When the ocean had often been traversed by convict ships, these vague

terrors declined; but the order, comfort, and security which now

prevail, were little known. The freight was of such importance, that the

masters were tempted to defraud the prisoners of water, and even of

food; confiding in their means to silence or compensate the sufferers,

when in sight of port, or to satisfy the government. So slightly

considered was this species of fraud, or so useful to colonial traders,

that the magistrates held the payment of a gratuity to be a bar to

further inquiry.[65] The convicts were thus exposed to severe, and even

dangerous privations. Scurvy, a malady often in those days fatal to half

a ship's crew, broke down the strength of men emaciated, dispirited, and

diseased: many perished by the way, and a much larger number arrived

unfit for labor, and a public burden.

The management of a convict ship legally vested in the captain: his duty

contemplating nothing more than a safe arrival. The personal government

of the prisoners was confided to the surgeon, subject however to the

discipline of the ship, of which the captain was exclusive judge. The

health of the company was often sacrificed to the security of the

vessel: the prisoners suspected of piratical intentions, were battened

down and forbidden exercise, lest they should rise upon the crew. From

the first, the officers in charge claimed a right to inflict corporal

punishment; but, up to 1823, without the sanction of law. By the act

then passed, power to order punishment was confided to the

surgeon-superintendent, with the concurrence of the captain; who was

intrusted with a veto, and was bound to enter his assent in the

log-book, with the nature of the offence and extent of the

infliction.[66]

Apprehensions of mutiny were much more common, when transportation to

New Holland was recent, than experience has justified. On the slightest

alarm, the prisoners were loaded with chains, fastened to ring-bolts

attached to the ship's sides. Perhaps, no vessel ever crossed the Line

without some plot, rumoured or real; but the most ordinary precautions

have been found usually sufficient to detect and explode them: their

inventors have often been their discoverers. The prisoners, commonly

distrustful of each other, shrank from the confidence required to plan

and execute a revolt. But when timid officers were in charge, they

sometimes adopted restrictions severely oppressive; and which men of

more courage and experience perceive to be needless.

During the war, the deportation of prisoners was attended with special

difficulties: no ship's company were less likely to support the flag of

their country. They were often delayed until a convoy could attend them.

These hindrances were frequent, when this colony was founded. Both male

and female prisoners were commonly forwarded together: the officers and

soldiers selected companions for the voyage, and a sentence of

transportation included prostitution. It is not incredible that modest

women rejected life on such terms, or preferred a public execution to

the ignominy of a floating brothel. These practices were first

tolerated as inevitable, and afterwards justified as politic. No

conspiracy could be concealed, while the women were paramours and spies;

and, when long detained, the population of the ship considerably

augmented before she dropped anchor. The government of the vessel was

not less severe than its aspect was licentious.[67]

Thus the abuses which, during the war, penetrated every branch of public

business, rioted in the convict ship; whilst the contractors, who

engaged to convey the prisoners at a price, snatched a profit from the

subsistence stipulated by the crown. Malignant fevers, brought from the

hulks or prisons, propagated in the stagnant atmosphere, and, when

combined with low and crude diet, more than decimated the list. These

effects of official negligence were early apparent. The second fleet

lost nearly one-fifth of the whole, either on the voyage, or shortly

after the arrival. Of the previous expedition, the loss was

trifling.[68] It was fitted out with integrity, surpassing the custom of

the times, or the pioneers of the colony might have perished on a barren

shore.

Captain Parker, of H. M. S. _Gordon_, detected this peculation: he

traced the unusual mortality to the frauds of the officers, whose

subduction from the standard allowance had "starved the prisoners to

death;" but it was not till many years after, that the humanity of

ministers interposed effectual regulations. The numbers who perished on

board the _General Hewitt_, the _Surry_, and the _Three Bees_ in 1814,

forced the attention of the local government to the subject; and on the

report of Surgeon Redfern, great improvements were adopted.[69] The

dispatch of vessels without regard to the season, brought the prisoners

within the cold latitudes, and exposed them to the southern winds in the

winter; and thinly clad, and enervated by the heat of the tropics, they

were crowded below, or shivering on the deck. A supply of warm clothing,

and the choice of the proper period of sailing, greatly mitigated the

voyage; and the constant examination of the diet, samples of which were

preserved, checked the avarice which cost so many lives, and had thus

led to atrocious crimes. It is humiliating to find, at every step, the

traces of wrong: the comforts supplied the prisoners by their friends,

were often stolen by the seamen: the pledges lodged in their hands were

not restored: boxes were pillaged, and the trifles furnished by the

self-sacrifice of a broken-hearted parent, became the spoil of the

assignees of public vengeance. These evils were aggravated by the delay

of the voyage, to subserve the commercial speculations of the surgeons,

who, beyond the general gains of merchandise, were allowed a large

remission of the customs.

Dr. Bromley, who superintended the transit of prisoners on several

occasions during the first quarter of the century, availed himself

largely of these trading privileges. Thus he landed, free of duty, at

the close of one voyage, 150 gallons of spirits, one hogshead of wine,

and ten baskets of tobacco, beside a shipload of women. This profitable

form of investment excited no local complaint, and implied no disgrace.

The female convict ships continued under the same system of management,

until some flagrant instances induced the Board of Admiralty to check

the grossness of vice. Of vessels remembered for their pollution, the

_Friendship_ and _Janus_ are distinguished: the keys of the prison were

accessible during the night: the conspiracy reached from the cabin to

forecastle: the officers were libertines themselves, or, even when their

conduct was least equivocal, it was difficult to obstruct

irregularities: not even bars and bolts resisted the ingress of

forbidden guests. The wooden barriers, which covered the entrance, were

displaced by some traitress within, who left no protection to her

companions but the point of honor.

The first who improved the discipline of the convict ships, were Captain

Brown and Dr. Reed, of the _Morley_: they endeavoured, by precept and

example, to inculcate morality. Coercion had been found ineffectual, and

the women, when restricted, filled the vessel with clamour and

profaneness; but these gentlemen adopted a system of mental influence,

and their prisoners, whatever was their subsequent conduct, were far

superior to their predecessors. The result of this instance led to a

permanent amelioration, and proved what had hitherto been doubted--that

even the worst societies can be controlled, by those who unite a sense

of virtue with official authority.[70]

The safety ascribed to the system of prostitution, was but an apology

for vice, and the voyage of the _Jane Shore_ dissolved the illusion. The

persuasion of the women accomplished what the male prisoners rarely

attempted, and when on their passage to the colonies have never been

able to effect. The soldiers and sailors, seduced by their caresses,

seized the vessel, and having shot the captain and the chief officer,

steered into a South American port. Once only, did a piratical plot

assume a serious form. The prisoners by the _Chapman_ devised a capture;

but the report of the design being communicated, the guard was prepared

for resistance. A deadly fire covered the deck with carnage: several

were precipitated into the sea. The sanguinary conflict, which might

have been prevented by timely precautions, obtained for the _Chapman_

the popular prefix by which it is distinguished.[71] On one occasion, a

vessel was in imminent danger, through the foolish incaution of the

guard. It was the custom to discharge the fire-arms at sunrise, and to

load them at noon: the interval seemed to offer the fairest prospect of

success, and the prisoners extensively joined in the conspiracy; but

they were overheard in conversation by a soldier standing at the

hatchway: the ringleaders were seized, and the plot defeated.

During the shorter voyages, from port to port, such accidents have been

much more common, although rarely successful. Knatchbull, a relative of

the eminent Kentish family, and formerly an officer in the navy, enticed

his fellow prisoners to attempt the capture of the vessel which conveyed

them: but his device, to poison all but the conspirators with arsenic,

was denounced.[72]

The prisoners sent down from Sydney to Van Diemen's Land, were conveyed

in small crafts and small numbers, and without much regard to their

health; but as an example of wretchedness, nothing could exceed the

usual passage from Hobart Town to Macquarie Harbour. The unhappy men,

often destitute of clothing, were placed in the hold of a vessel,

without bedding or blankets, and were exposed, sometimes for five or six

weeks, to the chills of a wintry voyage: on one such, there were

thirty-five men, who had but four blankets among them; and one was found

without any other covering than his shirt, in which plight he had been

forwarded from the gaol.[73]

The surgeon-superintendent enters on his office at the same moment with

the guard: his duties are multiform--the magistrate, the chaplain, the

mentor, and the physician. The surgeons are usually popular with the

prisoners, and the penal administration with which they are entrusted,

is generally the most disguised. Educated men, they are not commonly

haughty and capricious: they are able to distinguish moral imbecility

from perverseness, and both from disease. The habit of scrutinising

quickens their sagacity, and fits them for a station, where the

knowledge of the heart is the great secret of control. Accustomed to

behold human nature, stript of all its external trappings, the grade of

the prisoner, in their estimation, does not wholly debase the man.

Witnesses to the wretchedness of humble life, the squalor of its garrets

and its cellars--observant that want, which sometimes forms the felon,

much oftener makes the martyr, and crowds the hospital rather than the

gaol--they are not incapable of pitying either class of victims. The

horrors which others feel for disease, whether of the body or the mind,

excite no antipathies in men who have devoted their lives to its relief:

thus their government of convicts often affords a singular contrast to

the agency which precedes or follows them. The recollection of their

conduct is mentioned by the prisoner with respect, and even with

fondness. No profession can better prepare for practical benevolence:

what it withdraws from the sensibility it adds to the understanding; and

those in charge of convict vessels have exhibited, in full average, the

virtues of their profession.[74]

When physical suffering became infrequent, and the arrangements secured

both convenience and comfort during the voyage, it was long ere moral

control, or a reformatory discipline, became objects of concern. A

surgeon,[75] employed from 1818, amused the public with the details of

his system of management--not wanting in humanity. He encouraged a

joyous indifference to the past or the future: the prisoners sang from

morning to night, and often spent the evenings in dancing. The greatest

criminals were selected on principle for offices of trust, as far the

most trusty! The discourse was licentious--the feats of thievery, the

chosen topics of amusement and conversation. A stage, decked out with

the remains of former spoil, exhibited "the forty thieves," or a comedy

of judges, officers, and felons: mock charges were enforced by

barristers, arrayed in blankets; the bench was filled with an actor

decorated with a quilt, while a swab covered his head, and descended to

his shoulders. In the female prison ships, dancing and concerts, at

which the cabin passengers were spectators, whiled away the voyage. The

gross immoralities of a former period had subsided when he wrote: he

mentioned the change with regret. A free intercourse, he thought, more

conducive to reformation, as well as to harmony: the attachment formed

by the women, softened their demeanor, and facilitated their control.

Such were his views, and they had many partisans: but in connection we

learn, without astonishment, that he thought contemptuously of

saintship, considered reformation utopian, and honesty rather the result

of habit than of principle; the convicts, more unfortunate in their

detection than peculiar in their crimes: capable of the devotion of

hypocrites; hardly of repentance. The dash of libertinism which sparkles

in the pages of this writer, fell in with the humour of the day, and the

work was popular. It greatly tended, notwithstanding its levity, to

change the character of penal discipline in the colonies.[76]

The discipline of a convict vessel, as administered by

Surgeon-superintendent Browning, exhibited a different scene, and was

carried out in another spirit. The devout character of his mind, his

confiding disposition, and boundless good-will, are well known in these

colonies; and his management has been regarded with great admiration,

or great contempt. His high valuation of human nature contrasted with

the common official estimate: he not only saw fellow men in the worst

prisoners, but practicable materials, which knowledge and judgment might

form into comparative moral excellence. The plan of his government

recognised a wide distribution of oversight and responsibility: the

names by which he distinguished those whom he employed were flattering:

they were not gaolers and turnkeys, but captains of divisions and

delegates. He delivered lectures upon geography and astronomy: those who

could play instruments, such as clarionet, fife, and violin, were

stationed on the deck, while the rest marched in ranks. He instituted a

court of enquiry, consisting of five persons, of which his clerk was the

recorder, who examined witnesses, and disposed of trivial offences, by

exhortation, warning, and reproof; and in more flagrant cases, these

preliminary inquiries formed the basis of his own adjudication. He

treated the prisoners as persons sequestered from society for their own

good. He has shewn, by tables, that those who acquired a knowledge of

reading under his instruction, often indeed imperfect, formed a large

proportion of the whole.[77] His addresses exhibit the ardour of his

character: most critics would discern a tinge of enthusiasm; which,

however, is common to all, who successfully attempt the reformation of

mankind. Under such a guardian, it may be imagined, that the physical

welfare of the prisoners was carefully superintended. Medical comforts

were distributed with great liberality: flogging was wholly disused.

Moral influence, assisted by occasional deprivation of food or liberty,

comprehended the agency he employed. The systems of Browning and

Cunningham, though contemplating the same general objects, were

singularly adverse; and in nothing did they differ more pointedly than

their estimate of the substrata of convict character, the influence of

religious instruction, and the usefulness of the _cat_. Dr. Browning was

subject to much imposition--a liability which meets every aspect of

practical benevolence; but that he preserved order and health,

discouraged blasphemy, provided for the occupation of time, and

prevented gambling and peculation--that he sheltered the well-disposed

from the violence and contamination of the worst--and that he parted

with his charge, with their ideas increased and their moral sensibility

awakened--is, with all deductions, a claim to no trifling praise.

Colonel Arthur, a keen observer, mentioned the general emotion which

separation occasioned: the prisoners heard his valedictory address with

tenderness and reverence, and melted into tears.[78] To reproach his

labors would be a sin against mankind; but an over-estimate of their

effect, diminished the moral weight of their example. "Dr. Browning's

pets" became marked men; their conduct was watched with curiosity, often

with ill-will, and their lapses were reckoned up with exultation.

The ample provision for the accommodation, exercise, and food of the

prisoners, has been of late years a topic of complaint. They require

more care, and a diet more nicely chosen, than laborers in health and

mental tranquillity. Efforts to reduce these comforts have been followed

by fever and physical prostration; and whatever aspect their treatment

may wear, those who deprive them of liberty are bound to provide for

their safety. The law sentences to transportation: no question of public

policy could justify a minister, when converting that penalty into a

sentence of death.[79]

Notwithstanding the length of the voyage, the navigation of convict

vessels has been fortunate: for thirty years no vessel had been lost.

The merchant ships met with the average of accidents; but the transports

were supposed, by the curious, to be under a peculiar destiny. They

attributed their safe passage to the force of the proverb, which implies

that the trident of Neptune is powerless against the heritage of the

executioner.

A succession of calamities, in the navigation of convict vessels,

changed the aspect of their fortune, and filled all classes with

commiseration: such was the wreck of the _Amphitrite_, in 1833, which

struck on the coast of Bologne. That vessel was in a position of great

danger, and the French pilot, Heuret, endeavoured to warn, in time to

save; but the risk of the usual reward, it is said, the surgeon was

unwilling to incur; and the captain, not less indisposed to forfeit his

bond, which included a penalty for every prisoner who might escape.

Their hesitation was fatal to themselves: the women were not permitted

to come on deck, or to avail themselves of the opportunity to save their

lives. These unfortunate females, to the number of 103, with their

children, were drowned; and their naked corpses, floating to the coast

of France, exhibited an appalling spectacle. The French and English

mingled their tears, as they beheld the bodies strewed along the

beach--some models of feminine beauty, others disfigured by the recent

concussions; among the rest, a young mother, with her child clasped in

her arms. Nor does it appear that the instructions of the government had

ever foreseen or provided for such dangers, or authorised the temporary

release of prisoners, when the situation of the ship might require their

liberation.

The wreck of the _George the Third_, in April, 1835, excited the most

painful sensations. Having fifty-three persons on the sick list,

occasioned by a deficiency of proper food, Captain Moxley endeavoured to

reach Hobart Town through D'Entrecasteaux's Channel: while running at an

easy rate, and in smooth water, the leadsman cried out, "a quarter less

four:" that instant the vessel struck; at first gently, then heavily,

and in less than ten minutes she was a perfect wreck. The prisoners were

below, imploring release: they rushed to the hatchway, where a

corporal's guard was armed to repress them: they forced through the

bars, and a few were seen to escape; the soldiers, ordered to resist

their egress, then fired. The waters rushing into the hold of the vessel

drowned the sick, and reached the knees of the convicts, who were

ascending the hatchway; and Major Ryan, and the surgeon-superintendent,

expected instant death. They succeeded in sending the long-boat on

shore, amidst the cheers of the prisoners. Assistance was afforded by

the _Louisa_ schooner; and a party dispatched in the cutter, obtained

help from Hobart Town: but of two hundred and twenty, one hundred and

thirty-three perished. The fate of the convicts who fell at the

hatchway, excited great commiseration and some complaint: the officers

disclaimed the order to fire--an act which could only be excused by the

danger to the whole company in a rush to the boat. A board of inquiry

acquitted all parties of blame.

One man, only, was found on the wreck; an aged prisoner, on his passage

to the colony under his third sentence of transportation: unable to face

the surf, he lashed himself to a ring attached to the hull, and there

closed his career of crime.

A disaster, not less appalling, occurred off King's Island, by the wreck

of the _Neva_, in May, 1835, at 4 o'clock in the morning: she struck

upon the rocks, swung on the reef, and admitted the sea. The pinnace was

lowered, and the prison being broken by the shock, the unfortunate women

rushed on the deck; they filled the boat, which was instantly swamped,

and all, except three seamen, perished. The long-boat was then carefully

laden; but being upset by the surf, all sunk, except the master and

chief officer: these having regained the ship, she parted; and the

women, aroused from their beds in the twilight of a wintry morning,

clung shivering to the fragments. Their cries of suffering and anguish

were soon hushed, and of two hundred and forty, a few moments before

slumbering in tranquillity, twenty-two only were borne on broken pieces

of the ship to land; of these, seven died from exhaustion, and the

remainder must have perished, but for the intrepid exertions of Mr.

Charles Friend, who caught sight of their signals when passing the

coast.

Two women disputed about the position of the vessel: exasperated by

contradiction, they were tearing each other by the hair, when a wave

swept them from the deck into eternity.

The wreck of the _Governor Phillip_, in 1848, was the last instance of

such disasters. The vessel struck on a sand bank off Cape Barren Island;

but, except four, all the prisoners were saved: six soldiers and five

seamen perished, with Lieutenant Griffiths, the officer in command--a

young gentleman of amiable disposition and great promise. He exhibited a

brilliant example of humanity, calmness, and self devotion. The

prisoners broke from their quarters, rushed on the deck, and obstructed

the exertions of the seamen: entreating them to return, he gave them

_his hand_ and his word, that he would not desert the vessel until they

were clear of the wreck. While some were conveyed to the shore, he

remained knocking off the irons of the rest; and then finding the boat

could not regain the ship, he plunged into the sea, and was last seen

struggling with the current. The risk of life is common to the military

profession; but a sacrifice so nobly made, was surely not less glorious

than when on the field of battle.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 63: Sidney Smith: _Edinburgh Review_, 1803.]

[Footnote 64: _Tench's Narrative_, 1789.]

[Footnote 65: _Bigge's Report._]

[Footnote 66: This act (4 Geo. iv.) of 1823, made the punishments

legally inflicted by the overseers on board the hulks, the rule on board

the transports; but 5 Will. iv. allows such punishments as may be

_authorised by the secretary of state_, without specifying their nature.

The penalty of L20 (previously L50), for not entering the punishment in

the log-book, is in itself a feeble protection against the abuses which

such powers might produce. The instructions of the secretary of state to

the surgeon-superintendent direct--to confine in a dark cell; to lessen

the ration, even to bread and water; and whipping: first "using mild and

persuasive means." It is proper to observe, that these powers are very

rarely abused: punishments are not to be inflicted, except in the

presence of at least twelve prisoners.]

[Footnote 67: "The captain and each officer enjoy the right of

selection. Thus they continue the habit of concubinage until the

convicts arrive at Sydney Town, and some are now educating five or six

children. Each sailor or soldier is permitted to attach himself to one

of the females: the permission and the caresses of the artful wanton

have often lured the temporary parties to marry at Plymouth, more

frequently to consummate the nuptials at Sydney: such a marriage

manumits the convict."

"The unhappy male convicts are denied, save occasionally, these

profligate liberties. Occasionally, however, they range into the quarter

assigned to the women. The males, accustomed in London to indiscriminate

license, discover the greatest regret at the restraint of their passions

in the grossest oaths, and in the grossest language. The females, who

rather resemble the brutes than rational creatures in their excesses,

answer their reproaches, and rage with equal effrontery, and unbounded

impudence. It is a scene like Pandemonium--a second hell, but upon the

ocean. Sitting in groups, they sing, they shout, they converse in the

grossest terms, corrupting, and corrupted. The concubine knits, or sews

for her sailor, near his berth: the rest wash the clothes of the male

convicts; exercise and cleanliness, conducive to their health and to the

comforts of the ship. Many are remarkably neat: all are clad in

different dresses--some have been enabled to purchase caps, more have

not. The males are clothed in simple uniformity, in blue trousers and a

jacket. All the convicts are compelled to wash once in the day their

heads, their feet, and their faces; the men under the superintendence of

a soldier, the women apart under the eye of a matron. The males are

marched in a body of six across the deck to the pump: the sailors draw

up the water, and they are artfully compelled to labor for health at the

pump, and to rinse away the dirt. By this prudent precaution, in every

variety of weather, they obtain fresh air and avoid the scurvy, or

cutaneous diseases. A surgeon daily inspects this _human cargo_, and

reports its _state_. They are paid per head, a sum for those who survive

the voyage; hence it is the surgeon's interest to preserve these

diseased wretches. To inure this assembly, disgorged from brothels, and

cellars, and gaols, to the _appearance_, or to the idea of decorum, the

men wash their bodies above decks, and the women between them. The sexes

are forbid to mingle, even at their meals. So rigorous a discipline is

only supported by severity of punishments. Chains, tied round the body

and fettered round the ankles, confine and distress each male convict,

by the clanking sound, and by annoying the feet. This image of slavery

is copied from the irons used in the slave-ships in Guinea: as in these,

bolts and locks are at hand, in the sides and ribs of each _transport_

(for the vessels _on this service_, with _peculiar_ propriety are so

named), to prevent the escape, or preclude the movements of a convict.

If he attempt to pass the sentry, he is liable to be stabbed: for the

attempt, a convict was lately shot, and his executioner was applauded by

his officer for a faithful, though severe, discharge of duty. If a felon

kill his companion, a case very frequent in the quarrels of these

highwaymen and robbers, the murderer is hung at the yard-arm, and his

body is slowly carried through the ship, and launched into the deep. For

the theft of provisions, or of clothes from his neighbour, a case yet

more common, and more natural to footpads, the convict depredator is

shot. For inferior crimes, as riot or quarrels, a soldier is commanded

to whip the offender with martial severity: the first stroke leaves a

deep impression of the wire, the second causes the blood to trickle, the

third draws a stream of gore: under several faintings, the debilitated

and disordered convict receives two dozen of lashes. On the slightest

appearance of a mutiny, the ring-leader is cast headlong into the sea,

in his irons and his clothes. We commit this body to the deep, the

chaplain repeals, but the words of Shakespeare, perhaps, would be more

applicable:--

'O mutineer! if thou hast any hope of heaven's bliss,

Lift up thy hand; make signal of that hope.

He sinks! and makes no sign.'"

--_Account, by Captain Bertram_, in 1800: Longman.]

[Footnote 68: New South Wales first fleet, 987 convicts; of which 25

died, or 1 in 35. Second fleet, 1763 convicts: died 327, or 1 in every

5-1/2.

"I beg leave, however, to say, that the provisions were much superior to

those usually supplied by contract: they were furnished by Messrs.

Richards and Thorn, of Tower-street, London."--_Tench's Narrative._

These honest contractors deserve immortal renown.]

[Footnote 69: _Table of Voyages, from_ 1810 _to_ 1820:

--------+---------------------------+----------+---------+-------+-----+

Voyages.| Course pursued. | Average. |Convicts.|Deaths.|Sick.|

--------+---------------------------+----------+---------+-------+-----+

44 | Direct | 127 days | 7,657 | 71 | 94 |

38 | Touched at Rio de Janeiro | 156 days | 6,470 | 132 | 123 |

11 | Touched Cape of G. Hope | 146 days | 1,912 | 9 | 57 |

--------+---------------------------+----------+---------+-------+-----+]

[Footnote 70: _Bigge's Report._]

[Footnote 71: The bloody _Chapman_.]

[Footnote 72: This man, after an extraordinary career, closed his

miserable life on the scaffold, for the murder of a female, to whom he

was engaged. His relative conferred upon her surviving children a sum of

money to ensure their education--an act of uncommon generosity which

must obliterate the discredit of a relationship to one, who, however,

perhaps blended insanity and deliberate crime.]

[Footnote 73: Parliamentary Papers.]

[Footnote 74: "What chaplets are woven for men of slaughter! What

statues to men slaying conquerers! What notes of glory sounded, what

blaspheming praises to the genius of blood shedding! I have seen much of

the ceremonies dedicated to these things, and contrasting my late

feelings with my present, with what new homage do I venerate the race of

Lintleys; the men who, like minor deities, walk the earth: and in the

homes of poverty, where sickness falls with doubly heavy hand, fight the

disease beside the poor man's bed--their only fee, the blessing of the

poor! Mars may have his planet, but give me--what, in the spirit of the

old mythology might be made a star in heaven--the night lamp of

Apothecary Lintley."--_Story of a Feather, by Douglas Jerrold._]

[Footnote 75: Cunningham.]

[Footnote 76: _Two Years in New South Wales_, vol. ii, pp. 260-282.]

[Footnote 77: _Compiled from Dr. Browning's Tables._

+-----------------------------------------------+------------------------+

| At embarkation. | On debarkation. |

+--------+-------------+------------------------+------------------------+

| Year. | Ship. | Neither read nor write.|Unable to read or write.|

+--------+-------------+------------------------+------------------------+

| 1831 | Surry | 118 | 1 |

| 1834 | Arab | 194 | 1 |

| 1836 | Elphinstone | 158 | None |

| 1840 | Margaret | 102 | 6 |

+--------+-------------+------------------------+------------------------+]

[Footnote 78: "After he had examined them, and almost every prisoner had

repeated a portion of scripture, he addressed them in a most affecting

manner, and entreated them not to forget the lessons he had imparted;

and on his withdrawing, I think there was not a dry eye amongst the

whole of the prisoners."--_Col. Arthur_, 1837. _Par. Papers._]

[Footnote 79: _Browning's England's Exiles_, 1842.]

The History of Tasmania , Volume II · 第 4 / 28 章