To preserve the continuity of this narrative, it may be advisable to
give throughout the incidents which relate to Macquarie Harbour. The
short but severe government (1824) of Lieutenant Wright was superseded
by Captain Butler (1825), of whom the common testimony is favorable. Its
economical results will be comprehended in that general view of prison
labor, reserved for the close of this volume. He extended cultivation,
and thus mitigated the sufferings of the prisoners; and by building
ships, varied the industry of the men--many of whom went down for
punishment, but returned skilful mechanics.
Of all the thousands professing to bring back its consolation to the
wretched, not one minister had been found--perhaps not sought for--to
try there the remedies of the gospel. That a Wesleyan missionary
ventured, entitles him to the esteem of mankind. Governor Arthur
suggested, and even entreated this direction of missionary labours: he
wrote to Joseph Butterworth, M.P., and to the Colonial-office, and the
Rev. Mr. Schofield was appointed to enter this moral desert. On his
arrival in 1829, he heard terrific accounts of the perils of that place:
he was told, that his labors would be useless, and his life sacrificed.
He hesitated for a time; but Arthur declared that such a post of danger,
he, as a soldier, should consider one of honor.
Mr. Schofield proved that he was neither deficient in zeal nor prudence.
The place prepared for his ministry was, indeed, comfortless: the wind
overpowered his voice, and his congregation shivered with cold; but to
the men it was a new era. Having discoursed on the advantages of
knowledge, forty-seven prisoners requested instruction; and, assisted by
Mr. Commissary Lempriere, and countenanced by the commandant, he taught
many to read. Capt. Butler marked a change in the temper of the men:
punishments fell off one half; several were united with the wesleyan
society; and on the missionary's recommendation, their stay was
shortened.
They only should ask the reality of such repentance, who have
endeavoured to reform the wicked. One man was specially pointed out to
Messrs. Backhouse and Walker: the change in his conduct was great, and
its effects visible: his demeanour, his countenance, and, said the
commandant, "his very voice was changed." He had lost his arm by an
accident, which nearly deprived him of life. He had formed a cave at the
base of the island, reached by a steep slippery descent. It was here Mr.
Backhouse joined him, as he knelt down on the rough floor of his cold
cavern to adore the Almighty, for granting the privilege of solitude!
Strange meeting, and strange subject of thanksgiving!
Messrs. Backhouse and Walker, of the Society of Friends, travelled these
colonies (1831 to 1836), chiefly engaged in religious labors, and
principally to admonish the prisoners. The volume, of which Backhouse
was the author, attests their industry and accurate observation, while
performing a mission, which the moral weight of their connections
rendered of great moment. To understand this record of their labors,
some acquaintance with science is requisite, and not less a knowledge of
quaker modes of thought. The adventurous and buoyant spirit of the
writer, which carried him into odd situations, is sometimes irresistibly
droll, in contrast with formal phrases. He was a gentleman of prudence
and sagacity: "he lifted up his heart to God; took his pocket compass,"
and thus escaped some perils, both by sea and land; and carried to
England a reputation, from which detraction has taken nothing, and which
friendship would scarcely desire to improve.
The capture of the _Cyprus_ in Recherche Bay, on the voyage to Macquarie
Habour, was a stirring episode in the history of transportation. It
excited vast interest in Great Britain, and was dramatised at a London
theatre. The prisoners, who wage war with society, regarded the event
with exultation; and long after, a song, composed by a sympathising
poet, was propagated by oral tradition, and sung in chorus around the
fires in the interior. This version of the story made the capture a
triumph of the oppressed over their oppressors. The stanzas set forth
the sufferings of the prisoners by the cruelty of their masters, who
they vainly attempted to please. It related their flight from torture
to the woods, and drew but a dreary picture of the life of an outlaw. It
passed through the details of conviction and embarkation, and then
described the dashing seamanship of the pirates in managing the bark,
once destined to carry them to that place of suffering; but which bore
"bold Captain Swallow" to the wide ocean and liberty. Such was the song;
but the facts were different. In August, 1829, thirty-one prisoners
embarked on board the _Cyprus_; among them was Swallow, a seaman, who
eighteen years before had cut out a schooner at Port Jackson, and was
afterwards transported to Van Diemen's Land in the _Deveron_, Captain
Wilson.
This man, before he landed, exemplified remarkable courage. A dreadful
storm disabled the vessel; the rigging was in fragments: it became
necessary to cut away a portion of the wreck, which would probably cost
the adventurer his life. The captain called for a volunteer, and all
being silent was himself about to ascend, when Swallow remarking that
his own life was of little moment, accomplished the perilous task.
Perhaps presuming on this service, he was found secreted on board the
_Deveron_ on its homeward voyage, and was delivered to the British
admiral at Rio; he, however escaped, got to London, was retaken and
returned to this colony. Several others were capital respites, who had
been guilty of atrocious crimes.
These men were entrusted to the charge of Lieut. Carew, and a guard of
ten soldiers. On board they had provision for four hundred men for six
months, with a scanty supply of water. When he received the prisoners,
Lieut. Carew was warned of their desperate character by the gaoler,
though not of the precise nature of their crimes. The ammunition
supplied was, however, insufficient--ten rounds each man: to spare the
powder, the muskets were not often charged. The berths of the soldiers
were below, and the opening only sufficient to emerge unarmed: that of
the prisoners was too small to permit their lying down: one opening
admitted air, without bars or fastenings, and could not be closed day or
night. It was necessary to exercise on deck, and at the time of the
capture the number allowed was exceeded, it is said by the connivance of
the convict sailors. Several of the prisoners had before been relieved
of their irons: among the rest, Swallow, the pirate captain; and when
the assault commenced, there were nine, and soon after sixteen engaged
in the fray. There were only two sentinels, and one other soldier
unarmed on deck. Lieut. Carew had left the vessel to fish, accompanied
by the surgeon, the mate, a soldier, and the prisoner Popjoy. A few
minutes after, he heard the firing of a musket, and hastened towards the
vessel; but when he reached her side she was taken. The struggle with
the sentinels seems to have been severe; and one of the soldiers below
fired a shot, which passed between the arm of Swallow and his side. The
mutineers compelled them to surrender by pouring down water into the
hold, and threatening to stifle them if resistance were prolonged: they
were also in danger of suffocation from their own gunpowder. Carew
implored the pirates to give up the vessel, and promised oblivion: when
attempting to board, they pointed several muskets at his breast. At
length he consented to go ashore, with the soldiers and thirteen
prisoners, who refused to share in the adventure; and, in all,
forty-five were landed at different points of the bay. The pirates gave
them one sheep, a few pieces of beef, thirty pounds of flour, and half a
bag of biscuit, with a small quantity of spirit and sugar; and at dawn
sailed from the coast. The refusal of a boat, cut off all immediate
communication with the port, and gave time for considerable progress.
The _Cyprus_ was without charts, but several of the mutineers were well
acquainted with navigation.
The sufferings of the party on shore were inexpressible: they
distributed one quarter of biscuit daily, and subsisted chiefly on
muscles, found for some time, until a spring-tide covered them. Morgan
and Popjoy set out the next day for Hobart, and attempted to cross a
river, with their garments tied on their backs: they were driven back by
the natives, and were obliged to return, having lost their clothes. Five
men started to head the Huon, and thus reach Hobart; and were saved from
starvation, only by the party sent down to meet them. Morgan and Popjoy,
under the direction of Carew, and encouraged by his lady, who displayed
extraordinary fortitude, constructed a coracle of wicker work, about
twelve feet long, formed of the wattle: they covered it with hammock
cloth, and overlaid it with boiled soap and resin mingled, which they
happened to possess. In this frail bark they boldly ventured to sea;
and, notwithstanding a strong south breeze, happily found the _Orelia_
at Partridge Island, twenty miles distant. Contrary winds had compelled
that vessel to put back to the island, and boats were instantly
forwarded to the relief of the sufferers, who for two days had been
without sustenance. Though several had received severe contusions in
the capture, and experienced much privation during the thirteen days
detention, no life was lost.
The circumstances attending the capture were subject to the
investigation of a court martial. Lieutenant Carew was charged with
neglecting the proper precautions, though warned of the extreme peril
which demanded his vigilance; that he proceeded on a fishing excursion;
that during his absence the vessel was surprised and seized; that he
exhibited professional incapacity, and had been guilty of a breach of
the articles of war. This trial lasted five days, and was fully
reported. The evidence is conflicting, and especially respecting those
incidents which were supposed to suggest the capture to the prisoners:
such as the neglect of the fire-arms, and the indulgence of the
prisoners by a removal of their irons, and their access to the deck. On
the other hand, the testimony was positive and multiplied, that Carew
had guarded the prisoners with great steadiness and rigour. That he
apprehended no danger was certain--his wife and children were aboard;
but he forgot that the desire of liberty makes men quick and desperate,
and that they who had the miseries of Macquarie Harbour before them,
made light of life.
The arrangements of the vessel did not, however, admit of proper
precautions. When two of these men, in company with sixteen other
prisoners, were sent down three years after to the penal settlement,
there were ten soldiers to guard them: two only were on deck at once.
Their prison was railed in, and closed down with triple bolts: the
sentinels were doubled, and some sat continually in sight of the
prisoners.[176]
The pirates proceeded to the Friendly Islands, and thence to the Islands
of the Japannese, where seven deserted, and the rest passed towards
China. Four seamen presented themselves in a boat, having _Edward_ on
the stern, to a vessel at Whampoa, and stated that they had belonged to
a lost ship of that name. Swallow was one of them: he was examined by
the committee of supercargoes at Canton, and produced a sextant on which
was the name of Waldron, of the _Edward_. This name Swallow assumed, and
said that he was captain of the _Edward_, of Durham; related his voyages
to various ports of South America, the Sandwich Islands, and Japan.
Compelled to abandon his vessel, injured by the fire of the Japannese,
the crew had divided into parties, of which himself and companions were
one. This deposition was forwarded to the company's secretary, and
passages were given free to Swallow and three others. A few days after
he had sailed, four more appeared: Davis, who gave his name as Stanley,
was examined; but he had forgotten the assumed name of the captain, and
called him Wilson--this led to minuter inquiries, and he was sent home a
prisoner. Information was instantly forwarded, and reached England
before Swallow arrived with his companions, and a warrant was issued for
their detention: the three were taken, but Swallow had left the ship at
Margate, and for a time escaped.
Watts, Davis, and Swallow, were ultimately tried for this offence by the
Admiralty Court, in London: the two first were executed, and Swallow was
acquitted. It is said that the proof of his participation, except by
compulsion, was incomplete. The events which led to their conviction
were curiously coincident. The Thames police magistrate was unable to
proceed, and they might have been discharged; but the police clerk had
studied the _Hue and Cry_, and was struck with their resemblance to the
description. Popjoy, now in England,[177] pardoned for his good conduct
at the capture, had been recently before the magistrate for some
trifling offence, and to interest his worship had given the story of the
capture, the coracle, and all incidents of his intrepidity. He was thus
soon found out by the police, and gave full proof of identity. He stated
their crimes, their names, and secret marks which were discovered on
their persons: one of them, the very day of the capture, had the figure
of a mermaid punctured on his arm. Mr. Capon, the gaoler of Hobart Town,
was in London,[178] and thus was able to supply important particulars.
Several were forwarded to Van Diemen's Land, and tried by Judge Pedder:
they pleaded that their concurrence was involuntary. The chief question
was the actual position of the vessel; whether or not on the high seas.
The military jury were not disposed to hesitate on this point, and when
asked repeatedly, whether they found a place shut in between two heads
_the high seas_, they answered, without hesitation, "we do." Only John
Cam suffered death in Van Diemen's Land. Robert M'Guire was tried last
for this offence: in the scuffle, he wounded a soldier, who had
attempted to strike him, and whose testimony was decisive: he stood
sentry, with a military cross-belt and bayonet fixed; and was
recollected by his refusal of liquor, which he warned his comrades would
prove their destruction.
The chief advantage of Macquarie Harbour was its total isolation; but
the opening of the country from the Derwent to the Gordon, destroyed
this seclusion. The bar gradually rising, became more dangerous: the
place was too distant for supervision or supply; its barren soil allowed
no variety of labour or produce. The decaying buildings were of little
worth: there was nothing removable, except the doors and windows. These
were shipped on board the _Frederick_, of one hundred tons; and all
being ready for sea, on the 11th January, 1834, Mr. Taw, the pilot, as
captain, embarked with the master shipwright, Mr. Hoy, the mate, ten
prisoners of the crown, and a corporal's guard. They were detained by
adverse winds, and the pilot allowed the prisoners to land to wash their
clothing, all except one; they returned with great apparent
cheerfulness. Two of the soldiers were permitted to fish near a
neighbouring rock, and thus only two remained on board: while one of
these, allured into the forecastle, listened to the singing of a
convict, the prisoners on deck handed out the arms. Messrs. Hoy and Taw
endeavoured to recover possession, both by persuasion and force: there
was a short scuffle, and shots were fired: the balls passed near the
gentlemen in the cabin, though they were not injured. Remonstrance being
useless, they surrendered, and with the soldiers now recalled from the
rock, were sent on shore: thus, although the military and civil officers
were nearly equal in number, the mutineers accomplished their purpose
without loss of life. They sent next day a quantity of provisions, small
in amount, but, considering the voyage before them, more than such men
could have been expected to spare. The soldiers, gratified by their
fairness, forgot their own position in sympathy for the liberated men,
and gave them cheers and good wishes. On the morning after, the wind
became fair, and a light breeze carried them beyond danger.
When the mutineers had gained possession of the ship, John Barker, a
mariner, was chosen captain: he could take an observation, and direct a
ship's course; his mate was John Fair, and several others were sailors.
By carrying too much canvas they strained the vessel, which required
their constant efforts at the pump. They proposed to run to Valdavia,
South America: they suffered from a gale of wind of nine days duration,
which they weathered with great difficulty, and saw land on the 26th of
February, having been six weeks on their passage. They resolved to
abandon the brig: they had three carpenters on board, by whom the launch
was decked and rigged, and they left the _Frederick_ with her channel
plates under water. Having landed, they discovered an Indian ploughing
with a wooden share: from him they could not obtain supplies; they,
however, found that they were in the neighbourhood of Valdavia, and soon
approached the battery of that port, and were humanely received by the
inhabitants. On examination they declared the entire facts of their
escape, and were allowed to reside under promises of protection. They
appealed to the officials as _patriots_, and implored them to take their
lives rather than to restore them to the British. A few months after, H.
M. S. _Blond_, Commodore Mason, excited their alarm; it however passed
over: several married, and the governor and his lady honored the
nuptials of the pirate captain with their presence. Shortly after, they
were put under friendly arrest, Commodore Mason having applied for them,
and made some preparations to seize them by force; sending an armed
boat, which the Americans repelled. The second "governor" was not
equally favorable, but was conciliated by the promise of Barker and
three others to build him a boat: this accomplished, they seized her and
absconded. The governor exasperated at the loss, and their
perfidy--probably excited by his harsh treatment, and their constant
apprehension of capture--arrested and delivered up their companions to
the _Blond_; who were sent first to England, and then to Van Diemen's
Land.
They were tried in 1837: one of their number raised an objection, which
was referred to the English judges, and decided in their favor. The
defence was very ingenious: admitting the vessel was taken, it had never
been finished; it belonged to no port; it had received no name: it was
canvas, rope, boarding, and trenails, put together shipwise--yet it was
not a legal ship: the seizure might be theft, but not piracy! Upon the
whole, the prisoners conducted themselves well: however criminal the
escape, their kindness to the people they overpowered; their unusual
unanimity, and prudent acknowledgment of their real circumstances; their
appeal to the _patriots_ for sympathy, and the ingenuity of their
defence,--must be admitted as exhibiting qualities by no means
despicable.
But never was the government more culpable, or the prisoners less so,
than in the instance of the _Badger_, a vessel of twenty-five tons,
freighted with provisions for the East Bay Neck military station (1833).
She was a fast sailer, and well found, and in charge of a master
mariner, a convict, and convict seamen. The escape was joined, and
probably planned, by Darby, late a lieutenant in the royal navy, and
present at the battle of Navarino: a man of small stature but great
daring. On his passage to the colony he had been implicated in a plot to
take the vessel, which was partly known to a notorious receiver on
board,[179] who expected some favor by informing. The plotters intended
to shut down the soldiers and officer, to run for the American coast,
and there allow those who thought proper to land, or to attend the
vessel to her destination. Darby declared that, buried on the shores of
America, he had considerable treasure. On his arrival in Van Diemen's
Land the affair on board was made known to the Governor, by whom Darby
was told, that if ever he attempted to abscond, or to enlist others in
the enterprise, he should suffer all the law could inflict. He was,
however, placed at the signal station, and afterwards appointed to
assist the water bailiff, and thus had always in view the means of
escape! A convict clergyman, employed as tutor by a member of council,
was the companion of his flight. The loss of this vessel exemplified the
laxity of official oversight, where most required. No one could be
surprised at the escape, which good men suffering in a good cause would
have naturally ascribed to the favor of Providence.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 176: _Backhouse's Narrative._]
[Footnote 177: This man had been transported, when eleven years of age,
for horse-stealing. He was lost off the coast of Boulogne. Swallow died
at Port Arthur.]
[Footnote 178: On the affair of Ikey Solomon.]