NOVELS AND A POLITICAL INSPIRATION.
It was the experience of a depopulated province which led me to write
my first book, "Clara Morison--A Tale of South Australia during the
Gold Fever." I entrusted the M.S. to my friend John Taylor, with whom I
had just had the only tiff in my life. He, through his connection with
The Register, knew that I was writing in The South Australian, trying
to keep it alive, till Mr. Murray decided to let it go, and he told
this to other people. At a subscription ball to which my brother John
took me and my younger sister Mary, she found she had been pointed out
and talked of as the lady who wrote for the newspapers. I did not like
it even to be supposed of myself, but Mary was indignant, and I wrote
an injured letter to my friend. He apologized, and said he thought I
would be proud of doing disinterested work, and he was sorry the
mistake had been made regarding the sister who did it. Of course, I
forgave him. He was the last man in the world to give pain to anyone,
and I highly admired him for his disinterested work on The Register. He
reluctantly accepted 1,000 pounds when the paper was sold. He must have
lost much more through neglect of his own affairs at such a critical
time. He was taking a holiday with his sister Eliza in England and
France, where the beautiful widowed sister was settled as Madam Dubois,
and I asked him to take "Clara Morison" to Smith, Elder & Co.'s, in
London, and to say nothing to anybody about it; but before it was
placed he had to return to Adelaide, and in pursuance of my wishes,
left it with my other good friend, Mr. Bakewell, who also happened to
be visiting England with his family at the time--1853-4. I had an idea
that, as there was so much interest in Australia and its gold, I might
get 100 pounds for the novel. Mr. Bakewell wrote a preface from which I
extract a passage:--"The writer's aim seems to have been to present
some picture of the state of society in South Australia in the years
1851-2, when the discovery of gold in the neighbouring province of
Victoria took place. At this time, the population of South Australia
numbered between seventy and eighty thousand souls, the greater part of
whom were remarkable for their intelligence, their industry, and their
enterprise, which, in the instance of the Burra Burra, and other copper
mines had met with such signal success. When it became known that gold
in vast quantities could be found within 300 miles of their own
territory, they could not remain unmoved. The exodus was almost
complete, and entirely without parallel. In those days there was no
King in Israel, and every woman did what was right in her own sight."
Another reason I had for writing the book. Thackeray had written about
an emigrant vessel taking a lot of women to Australia, as if these were
all to be gentlemen's wives--as if there was such a scarcity of
educated women there, that anything wearing petticoats had the prospect
of a great rise in position. I had hoped that Smith, Elder, & Co. would
publish my book, but their reader--Mr. Williams, who discovered
Charlotte Bronte's genius when she sent them "The Professor," and told
her she could write a better, which she did ("Jane Eyre")--wrote a
similar letter to me, declining "Clara Morison," as he had declined
"The Professor," but saying I could do better. J. W. Parker & Son
published it in 1854, as one of the two-volume series, of which "The
Heir of Redcliffe" had been most successful. The price was to be 40
pounds; but, as it was too long for the series, I was charged 10 pounds
for abridging it. It was very fairly received and reviewed. I think I
liked best Frederick Sinnett's notice in The Argus--that it was the
work of an observant woman--a novelist who happened to live in
Australia, but who did not labour to bring in bushrangers and convicts,
and specially Australian features. While I was waiting to hear the fate
of my first book, I began to write a second, "Tender and True," of
which Mr. Williams thought better, and recommended it to Smith, Elder,
and Co., who published it in two volumes in 1856, and gave me 20 pounds
for the copyright. This is the only one of my books that went through
more than one edition. There were two or three large editions issued,
but I never got a penny more. I was told that nothing could be made out
of shilling editions; but that book was well reviewed and now and then
I have met elderly people who read the cheap edition and liked it. The
motif of the book was the jealousy which husbands are apt to feel of
their wives' relations. As if the most desirable wife was an amiable
orphan--if an heiress, so much the better. But the domestic virtues
which make a happy home for the husband are best fostered in a centre
where brothers and sisters have to give and take; and a good daughter
and sister is likely to make a good wife and mother. I have read quite
recently that the jokes against the mother-in-law which are so many and
so bitter in English and American journalism are worn out, and have
practically ceased; but Dickens and Thackeray set the fashion, and it
lasted a long time.
While "Clara Morison" was making her debut, I paid my first visit to
Melbourne. I went with Mr. and Mrs. Stirling in a French ship consigned
to him, and we were 12 days on the way, suffering from the limited
ideas that the captain of a French merchantman had of the appetites of
Australians at sea. I intended to pay a six weeks' visit to my sister
and her family, but she was so unwell that I stayed for eight months. I
found that Melbourne in the beginning of 1854 was a very expensive
place to live in, and consequently a very inhospitable place. Mr.
Murray's salary sounded a good one, 500 pounds a year, but it did not
get much comfort. His sister was housekeeper at Charles Williamson &
Co.'s, and that was the only place where I could take off my bonnet and
have a meal. From the windows I watched the procession that welcomed
Sir Charles Hotham, the first Governor of the separated colony of
Victoria. He was received with rejoicing, but he utterly failed to
satisfy the people. He thought anything was good enough for them. One
festivity I was invited to--a ball given on the opening of the new
offices of The Argus in Collins street--and there I met Mr. Edward
Wilson, a most interesting personality, the giver of the entertainment.
He was then vigorously championing the unlocking of the land and the
developing of other resources of Victoria than the gold. It had
surprised him when he travelled overland to Adelaide to see from
Willunga 30 miles of enclosed and cultivated farms, and it surprised me
to see sheepruns close to Melbourne. With a better rainfall and equally
good soil, Victoria had neither the farms nor the vineyards nor the
orchards nor the gardens that had sprung up under the 80-acre section
and immigration systems of South Australia. It had been an outlying
portion of New South Wales, neglected and exploited for pastoral
settlement only. The city, however, had been well planned, like that of
Adelaide, but the suburbs were allowed to grow anyhow. In Adelaide the
belt of park lands kept the city apart from all suburbs. Andrew Murray
was as keen for the development of Victoria agriculturally and
industrially as Mr. Wilson, and they worked together heartily. Owing to
the state of my sister's health I was much occupied with her and her
children; but in August she was well, and I returned with Mr. Taylor
and his sister in the steamer Bosphorus, when it touched at Melbourne
on the way home. He brought me 30 pounds for my book, and the assurance
that it would be out soon, and that I should have six copies to give to
my friends. Novel writing had not been to me a lucrative occupation. I
had given up teaching altogether at the age of 25, and I felt that,
though Australia was to be a great country, there was no market for
literary work, and the handicap of distance from the reading world was
great.
My younger sister married in 1855 William J. Wren, then an articled
clerk in Bartley & Bakewell's office, and afterwards a partner with the
present Sir James Boucaut. Mr. Wren's health was indifferent, and
caused us much anxiety. My brother John married Jessie Cumming in 1858,
and they were spared together for many years. As the Wrens went on a
long voyage to Hongkong and back for the sake of my brother-in-law's
health, my mother and I had the charge of their little boy. But in that
year, 1859, my mind received its strongest political inspiration, and
the reform of the electoral system became the foremost object of my
life. John Stuart Mill's advocacy of Thomas Hare's system of
proportional representation brought back to my mind Rowland Hill's
clause in the Adelaide Municipal Bill with wider and larger issues. It
also showed me how democratic government could be made real, and safe,
and progressive. I confess that at first I was struck chiefly by its
conservative side, and I saw that its application would prevent the
political association, which corresponded roughly with the modern
Labour Party, from returning five out of six members of the Assembly
for the City of Adelaide. But for blunders on ballot papers the whole
ticket of six would have been elected. They also elected the three
members for Burra, and Clare. I had then no footing on the Adelaide
press, but I was Adelaide correspondent for The Melbourne Argus--that
is to say, my brother was the correspondent, but I wrote the
letters--he furnished the news. I read Mill's article one Monday night,
and wrote what was meant for a leader on Tuesday morning, and went to
read it to my brother at breakfast time, and posted it forthwith. I
knew The Argus had been dissatisfied with the recent elections, and
fancied that the editor would hail with joy the new idea; but I
received the reply that The Argus was committed to the representation
of majorities; and, though the idea was ingenious, he did not even
offer to print it as a letter. About two years later Mr. Lavington
Glyde, M.P., brought forward in the Assembly Mr. Fawcett's abstract of
Hare's great scheme, and I seized the opportunity of writing a series
of letters to The Register, signed by my initials. Mr. Glyde, seeing
the House did not like his suggestions, dropped the matter, but I did
not. I was no longer correspondent to The Argus--the telegraph stopped
that altogether. My wonderful maiden aunts made up to me and my mother
the 50 pounds a year that I had received as correspondent, and did as
much for their brother, Alexander Brodie, of Morphett Vale, from 1,000
pounds they had sent to invest in South Australia. It was as easy to
get 10 per cent. then as to get 4 per cent. now; indeed I think the
money earned 12 per cent. at first. My brother John was accountant to
the South Australian Railways, then not a very great department--I
think the line stretched as far as Kapunda to the north from Port
Adelaide. He was as much captivated by Mr. Hare's idea as I was, and he
said that if I would write a pamphlet he would pay for the printing of
1,000 copies, to be sent to all the members of Parliament and other
leading people in city and country. I called my pamphlet "A Plea for
Pure Democracy," and when writing it I felt the democratic strength of
the position as I had not felt it in reading Hare's own book. It cost
my brother 15 pounds, but he never grudged it.
While the pamphlet was in the press, I heard of the dangerous illness
of my friend Lucy Anne Duval (nee Beare), one of the original
passengers in the Duke of York, the first ship which arrived here. I
went to consult Mr. Taylor and Mr. Stirling at their office. I saw only
Mr. Stirling. I said, "I should like to go and nurse her," and he said.
"If you will go, I'll pay your expenses;" and I went and stayed with
her for three weeks, till she died, and left five children, three of
them quite young. There were Duvals in England in good circumstances,
and I wrote pleading for the three little ones, though every one said
it was quite useless; but an uncle by marriage was touched, and sent
100 pounds a year for the benefit of the three children, and I was
constituted the guardian. The youngest died within two years, but the
allowance was not decreased, and I was able to get some schooling for
an elder boy. This was my first guardianship.
My pamphlet did not set the Torrens on fire. It did not convert The
Register, but Mr. Fred Sinnett, who was conducting The Telegraph, was
much impressed, especially as he had the greatest reverence for John
Stuart Mill, and thought him a safe man to follow. I had another novel
under way at the time, and Mr. Sinnett thought it would help The
Telegraph to bring it out as a serial story in the weekly edition; and
I seized my opportunity to bring in Mr. Hare and proportional
representation. In England Mr. Hare, Mr. Mill, Rowland Hill, and his
brother, and Professor Craik, all considered my "Plea for Pure
Democracy" the best argument from the popular side that had appeared. I
got the kindest of letters from them, and my brother considered my
labour and his money well spent. Professor Craik, writing to Miss
Florence Davenport Hill about the "Plea for Pure Democracy," says--"It
is really a pity that the pamphlet should not be reproduced in this
country--modified, of course, to the slight extent that would be
necessary. It is really a very remarkable piece of exposition--the best
for popular effect by far on this subject that has come in my way. I
rejoice to hear that there is a chance of Mr. Hare's plan being adopted
in South Australia." I may be allowed to observe that there is still a
chance, but not yet a reality. My aunts at Thornton Loch were applied
to by my English admirers to see if they would be at the cost of an
English edition; but, though they were goodness itself to our material
needs, they thought it was throwing money away to bring out a pamphlet
on an unpopular subject that would not sell. Why, even in South
Australia, though the price was marked at one shilling, not a single
shilling had been paid for a single copy; and in South Australia I was
known! Not so well known, however. I wrote under initials only, and
many thought my letters and pamphlets were the work of Charles Simeon
Hare, one of the tallest talkers in South Australia, who said Mr.
Thomas Hare was his cousin. My novels were anonymous up to the third,
which was not then written. If my name would have done the cause any
good it would have been given, but it was too obscure then.
The original title of my third book was "Uphill Work," and it took up
the woman question as it appeared to me at the time--the difficulty of
a woman earning a livelihood, even when she had as much ability,
industry, and perseverance as a man. My friend Mrs. Graham, who had
been receiving 100 pounds a year and many presents and much
consideration from the Alstons, of Charles Williamson & Co., had to
return to Scotland to cheer her father's last years. After his death
she became housekeeper to the Crichton Asylum for the Insane, with 600
or 700 patients, at a salary of 30 pounds a year. This started me on
the story of two girls educated well and soundly by an eccentric uncle,
but not accomplished in the showy branches, who, fearing that the elder
and favourite niece would marry a young neighbour, and that the other
might be a confirmed invalid, disinherited them, and left his estate to
a natural son with a strict proviso against his marrying either of his
cousins. In that case the property was to go to a benevolent
institution named. Jane Melville applied for the situation of
housekeeper to this institution at 30 pounds a year, but was refused
because she was too young and inexperienced. After all sorts of
disappointments she took a situation to go out to Australia, and her
sister accompanied her as a lady's maid in the same family. You may
wonder how I brought in proportional representation, but I managed it.
I think, on the whole, it is a stronger book than either of the others.
The volume has two interesting associations, one which connects it with
Mrs. Oliphant. My friend Mrs. Graham knew I had sent it to England for
publication, and when she read the anonymous "Doctor's Family" she was
sure it was mine, and was delighted with it. When I read of the brave
Australian girl Nettie, taking on herself the burden of the flabby
sister and her worthless husband and their children, I wished that I
had written such a capital story. In a subsequent tale of Mrs.
Oliphant's, "In Trust," a father disinherits the elder girl from a fear
of an unworthy marriage, but he leaves a letter to be opened when Rosy
is 21, which--should Anne not marry Cosmo Douglas--restores her to her
own mother's fortune, which was in his power. There was no saving
clause in my book. The nieces were left only 20 pounds a year each. Mr.
Williams did not think "Uphill Work" as good as "Tender and True," and
it was hung up till circumstances most unexpectedly brought me to
England, and I tried Bentley, and found that his reader approved, but
wished me to change the name, as the first critic would say it was
uphill work to read it. Then let it be "Mr. Haliburton's Will." That
would clash with "Mrs Haliburton's Troubles." So the name was changed
to Hogarth, and the title became "Mr. Hogarth's Will." It was well
reviewed, and I got 35 pounds as my half-share of the profits on a
three-volume edition, besides 50 pounds from The Telegraph. But the
book was to have more effect in unexpected quarters than I could
imagine. When staying with my aunts in Scotland I had a letter from Mr.
Edward Wilson's secretary, saying that he had wished to write an
article for The Fortnightly on "The Representation of Classes," which
was his cure for the excesses of democracy; but, as he could not see,
and his doctor had forbidden him even to dictate, he had reluctantly
abandoned the idea. He had, however, heard that I was in Scotland, and,
though my idea was different from his, he believed that I could write
the article from some letters reprinted from The Argus and a few hints
from himself, and that I could adapt them to English conditions. I
gladly undertook the work, and satisfied Mr. Wilson. Just before I left
for Australia I went to Mr. Wilson's, and we went through the proofs
together. Mr. Wilson, being a wealthy man, did not ask any payment from
The Fortnightly, but he gave me 10 pounds and thanked me for stepping
in to his assistance when he needed it. He said that my novel had been
the subject of a great deal of discussion in his house. I asked, "Why?"
He replied, "The uncle and the nieces, of course." I thought no more of
it till the death of Mr. Wilson revealed that he had left his estate to
the charities of Melbourne. Then my brother told me that when he was in
England in 1877 Mr. Wilson had told him that it was seldom that a novel
had any influence over a man's conduct, but that reading his sister's
novel had set him thinking, and had made him alter his will. He did not
think it to the advantage of his nieces to be made rich, and he would
leave his money to Victoria and Melbourne, where he had made it. I was
the innocent cause of disappointing the nieces, for I think I made it
clear that the uncle did very wrongly. But when I see 5,000 pounds a
year distributed among Melbourne charities, and larger gifts for the
building of a new hospital, I cannot help thinking that these are the
results of Mr. Wilson reading "Mr. Hogarth's Will" and it may be that
other similar trusts are the results of Mr. Wilson's action.
Another literary success I had during that visit to England. I went to
Smith, Elder, & Co. to ask if I could not get anything for the shilling
edition of "Tender and True," and was answered in the negative; but I
had not talked ten minutes with Mr. Williams before he said that if I
would put these ideas into shape, he thought he could get an article
accepted by The Cornhill Magazine. "An Australian's Impressions of
England" was approved by the editor, and appeared in The Cornhill for
January 1866, and for that I received 12 pounds, the best-paid work I
had ever had up to that time. The Saturday Review said of "Mr.
Hogarth's Will" that there was no haziness about money matters in it
such as is too common among lady writers. Mr. Bentley advised me to
give my name, and not to sell my copyright; but the latter has been of
no value to me; 500 copies of a three-volume novel exhausted the likely
demand. I got 12 copies to give to friends, and one copy I gave to Mr.
Hare. His daughters were a little amused to see their father in a
novel, and as the book was in the circulating library their friends and
acquaintances used to ask, "Is that really your papa that it is
intended for?" I did not at the time think of facing anybody in
England, but I had been both amused and annoyed with the portraits I
was supposed to have drawn from real people in and about
Adelaide--often people I had never seen and had not beard of. "But
Harris is Ellis to the life," said my old Aunt Brodie of Morphett Vale.
"Miss Withing is my sister-in-law," said another. Neither of these
people had I seen. Of course, Mr. Reginald was Mr. John Taylor, the
only squatter I knew, but I myself was not identified with my heroine
Clara Morison. I was Margaret Elliott, the girl who was studying law
with her brother Gilbert; but my brother and my cousin Louisa Brodie
were supposed to be figuring in my book as lovers. In a small society
it was easy to affix the characteristics to some one whom it was
possible the author might have met; but I shrank from the idea that I
was capable of "taking off" people of my acquaintance, and for many
reasons would have liked if the book had not been known to be mine in
South Australia. There must, however, have been some lifelike
presentment of my characters, or they could not have been recognised.
About this time I read and appreciated Jane Austen's novels--those
exquisite miniatures, which no doubt her contemporaries identified
without much interest. Her circle was as narrow as mine--indeed,
narrower. She was the daughter of a clergyman in the country. She
represented well-to-do grownup people, and them alone. The humour of
servants, the sallies of children, the machinations of villains, the
tricks of rascals, are not on her canvas; but she differentiated among
equals with a firm hand, and with a constant ripple of amusement. The
life I led had more breadth and wider interests. The life of Miss
Austen's heroines, though delightful to read about, would have been
deadly dull to endure. So great a charm have Jane Austen's books had
for me that I have made a practice of reading them through regularly
once a year.
As we grew to love South Australia, we felt that we were in an
expanding society, still feeling the bond to the motherland, but eager
to develop a perfect society, in the land of our adoption.