The Collection

AUSTRALIA- It’s Discovery

OVERVIEW:

The history surrounding the ‘discovery’ of the immense southern landmass that eventually became known as ‘Australia’ is a fascinating study. In truth it had been inhabited by an indigenous population for centuries, some say for over 4000 years, when Dutch, French and British mariners noted its existence. There is even conjecture that Portuguese and Chinese sailors had scouted the region. It was eventually declared for Britain by Captain James Cook, a master navigator and mapmaker. The following excerpts, mostly taken down from my Mitchell Library research, and mostly from first hand reports, show how that ‘discovery’ was viewed. WF.

There are no songs detailing the ‘discovery’ of Australia or praising James Cook. [WF.]

CAPTAIN JAMES COOK DESCRIBES AUSTRALIA

The Land, in general, is low and level with very few Hills or Mountains; further to the northward it may in some places be called a Hilly, but hardly any where can be cali’d a Mountainous Country, for the Hills and Mountains put together take up but a small part of the Surface in comparison to what the Planes and Vallies do which intersect or divide these Hills and Mountains.

It is indifferently well watered, even in the dry seasons, with small Brooks and springs, but no great Rivers.  unless it be in the wet Season when the low lands and Vallies near the Sea I do suppose are mostly laid under water, the small brooks may then become larg-e Rivers but this can only happen with the Tropick. It was only in Thirsty Sound, excepting one small pool or two which Gore saw in the Woods, where we could find no fresh Water which no doubt was owing to the Country being there very much intersected with Salt Creeks and Mangrove land. …

Land Animals are scarce as so far as we know confined to a very few species; all that we saw I have before mentioned, the sort that is in the greatest plenty is the Kangooroo or Kanguru so called by the Natives, we saw a good many of them about Endeavour River, but kili’d only Three which we found very good eating. Here are likewise Batts, Lizards, Snakes, Scorpions, Centumpees &c. but not in any plenty – Tame Animals they have none but Dogs and of these we saw but one and therefore must be very scarce, probably they eat them faster than they breed them, we should not have seen this one had he not made us frequent Visits while we lay in Endeavour River –
From Captain Cook’s Journal

ENTRANCE TO PORT JACKSON

“In running along the shore, we observed a number of steep rocky clifts and after having run about 3 leagues we were abreast of some high sand clifts at the northern extremity of which the land of the entrance of Port Jackson commences, and the entrance is soon discovered lying between 2 steep bluff heads. There is no danger in entering the harbour but what is visible, and, when within the heads, a rock lies in the mid channel, the shoal of which extends a cable’s length around. This rock is just covered at high water. When in the inside of the harbour, the larbord arm leads to the place where the settlement is formed, which lies about 6 miles from the entrance of the harbour. We anchored there the same evening at about 7 o’clock, being obliged to turn up.”
Lieut.P. G. King’s diary, 25 January 1788

PORT JACKSONWe got into Port Jackson early in the afternoon, and had the satisfaction of finding the finest harbour in the world, in which a thousand sail of the line may ride in the most perfect security. …

The different coves were examined with all possible expedition. I fixed on the one that had the best spring of water and in which the ships can anchor so close to the shore that at a very small expanse quays may be made at which the largest ships may unload.
This cove, which I honoured with the name of Sydney, is about a quarter of a mile across at the entrance, and half a mile in length.
Governor Phillip, despatch to Lord Sydney. 16 May 1788

10,000 Miles Away.

A fanciful maritime song that appears to have wide circulation, especially in its lessened version in the folk revival. This is the original from the broadside held in the Kidson Collection, Mitchell Library, Glasgow, and reprinted in Ron Edward’s ‘The Transports’. The original was not dated and had no printer indicated (other than ‘Printed for the vendors’). It appeared on the same sheet as a song ‘Brigham Young and His Five-and-Forty Wives (Brigham Young (1801-77) was a Mormon). Its rather jolly words and traditional tune would imply it was a later creation along the lines of the well-known ‘Botany Bay’.

Warren Fahey sings ‘Ten Thousand Miles Away’

GOVERNMENT MEN

P Cunningham, Two Years in New South Wales, London, 1827

Before leaving the Hulk, the convicts are thoroughly clothed in. new suits, and ironed; and it is curious to observe with what nonchalance some of these fellows will turn the jingling of their chains into music whereto they dance and sing. Two rows of sleeping-berths, one above the other, extend on each side of the between-decks of the convict-ship, each berth being six feet square, and calculated to hold four convicts, every one thus possessing eighteen inches space to sleep in — and ample space, too!

The common diet of the convicts is certainly more than is requisite to keep them in health, as they have no work to do; but it is not more than is politic to allow them; because, if you stint them on the voyage, you must keep them under greater restraint, and their healths will suffer in consequence.

CONVICT LIFE IN NSW AND VAN DIEMENS LAND

The following is from Convict life in NSW and Van Diemens Land, Charles White. Published by White at Bathurst 1889

It was early in the year 1787 that a fleet of eleven sailing ships could be seen rendezvousing off the Isle of Wight, the  names of the vessels being the Sirius, frigate ; the  Supply, armed tender ; the Golden Grove, Fishburn, and  Barrowdale, store ships ; and the Scarborough, Lady Penrhyn, Friendship, Charlotte, Prince of Wales, and Alexander,  transports. On board were Captain Arthur Phillip, styled  Governor and Commander-in-Chief of New South Wales, with Other inferior officers, a Lieutenant-Governor, a chaplain, a commissory, judge advocate, surgeon, adjutant, quarter-master, two assistant surgeons and an agent for transports ; a garrison of 200 marines, fully officered ; 200  soldiers, forty of whom were allowed to take their wives and families ; 81 other free persons and 6o6 convicts making a total of 1044 persons. Of this number 1030 were safely  landed in the colony in January, 1788, having been eight  months on the water. Of the number landed about 300 were females, twenty-eight being wives of the military, and 192 convicts. It must not be supposed that these male and  female convicts were criminals of the deepest die, for they were mostly young persons from the agricultural districts of  England, and out of the whole 696, only 55 were sentenced for longer periods than seven years, and the sentences of a large number would expire within two or three years after their landing. The laws of England a century ago, and their administration, were very different from what they are now, and large numbers of those who crowded the goals, and were sent from the goals across the water to the new land, had never been accused of anything worse than poaching or smuggling, while many of them were suffering for political offences which in later days made statesmen, and crowned the “transgressors” with imperishable glory. That there were some very bad men and women in the first batch, and in the batches that followed in their wake, is true ; but the number was proportionately small, and their influence for was necessarily contracted.

The first ship of the fleet, the Supply, with the Governor oil board, anchored in Botany Bay on 18th January, 1788, and was closely followed by the other ships. Concerning the landing we find the following record in the history of Governor Phillip’s voyage, published in the following year : “At the very first landing of Governor Phillip on the shore of Botany Bay, January 18th, 17S8, an interview with the natives took place. They were all armed, but on seeing the Governor approach with signs of friendship, alone and unarmed, they readily returned his confidence by laying down their weapons. They were perfectly devoid of clothing, yet seemed fond of ornaments, putting the beads and red baize that were given them on their heads and necks, and appearing pleased to wear them. The presents offered by their new visitors were all readily accepted, nor did any kind of disagreement arise while the ships remained in Botany Bay.”

The early records declare that one man who was caught by the solitary clergyman in the settlement stealing potatoes from a garden, was sentenced to 300 lashes, to have his ration of flour stopped for six months, and to be chained for that period to two others who had been caught robbing the Governor’s garden.

During this trying period Governor Phillip lived on the same ration as was allowed to the meanest person under his charge, the weekly provision issued to everyone being simply two and a half pounds of flour, two pounds of rice, and two pounds of pork. The humanity of the Governor is seen in the fact narrated by Collins that he gave up 3 cwt. of flour which was his own private property, declaring that he did not wish to have on his table at such a time more than the ration that was received in common from the public stores.

When the people were on the very verge of despair and death, their eyes were gladdened by the sight of a provision ship sailing into the harbour, and bringing 127,000 lbs. of flour, being a four months’ supply for the settlement. A few days afterwards four ships arrived bringing 1000 male and 250 female convicts. It can readily be imagined what would have happened had these transport ships discharged their living freight before the public larder had been replenished the timely arrival of the vessel with provisions.

It is worthy of record that the first grant of land was made to a settler named Ruse in 179 1, he having declared that he was able to support himself without aid from the Government stores on a farm which he had occupied fifteen months, the grant of land having been made as a reward for his industry. In December, 1792, there were 67 settlers holding under grant 3,470 acres, of which 470 acres were under cultivation and another hundred cleared. The bulk of this land was near Sydney, and was then, as it is now, looked at from an agriculturist’s point of view, “miserably barren;” and the little provision that was won from the soil was chiefly due to the fact that the work was done by convicts and without pay. These free settlers, most of them convicts free by servitude or pardon, were supported entirely for eighteen months by the Government, assistance being rendered as soon as they went on the land. They were clothed, received their tools, primitive implements of husbandry, and grain for seed, from the Government stores, together with the use of as many convicts as they would undertake to clothe, feed, and employ; while huts were erected for them also at the public expense.

The year of Governor Phillip’s departure was made remarkable also by the arrival of the first foreign trading vessel. She was from the United States, and entered Port Jackson in November, loaded with goods which the enterprising American skipper considered suitable to the new
market. As it happened, the goods forming his cargo were in great demand, and he disposed of them at a high profit. In the same month one of the first warrants of emancipation was made out in favour of the notorious London pick-pocket, Barrington, to whom the credit of composing the prologue to one of the first dramatic representations attempted in the colony was given, and which contained the oft-quoted lines

True patriots all, for be it understood,
We left our country for our county’s good.”

The following is the full text of that peculiar document :

From distant climes, o’er widespread seas we come,
Though not with much éclat, or beat of drum;
True patriots all, for, be it understood,
We left our country for our county’s good:
No private views disgraced our generous zeal,
What urged our travels was our country’s weal;
And none will doubt, but that our emigration
Has proved most useful to the British nation.
But you inquire, what could our breasts inflame.
With this new passion for theatric fame;
What in the practice of our former days,
Could shape our talent to exhibit plays?
Your patience. Sirs, some observations made.
You’ll grant us equal to the scenic trade.
He, who to midnight ladders is no stranger.
You’ll own I’ll make an admirable ranger.
To seek Macheath we have not far to roam.
And sure in Filch I shall be quite at home.
Unrivaled there, none will dispute my claim,
To high pre-eminence and exalted fame.
As oft to Gadshill we have taken our stand.
When ’twas so dark you could not see your hand.
Some true-bred Falstaff we may hope to start,
Who, when well holster’ d well will play his part.
The scene to vary, we shall try in time,
To treat you to a little pantomime.
Here light and easy columbines are found.
And well-bred harlequins with us abound;
From durance vile our precious selves to keep
We often had recourse to th’ flying leap;
To a black face have sometimes ow’d escape.
And Hounslow Heath has proved the worth of crape.
But how, you ask, can we e’er hope to soar
Above these scenes, and rise to tragic lore?
Too oft, alas! we’ve forced th’ unwilling tear,
And petrified the heart with real fear.
Macbeth a harvest of applause will reap,
For some of us, I fear, have murdered sleep;
His lady too with grace will sleep and talk,
Our females have been used at night to walk.
Sometimes, indeed, so various is our art,
An actor may improve and mend his part ;
” Give me a horse,” bawls Richard, like a drone,
We’ll find a man would help himself to one.
Grant us the favour, put us to the test,
To grain your smiles we’ll do our very best;
And, without dread of future Turnkey Lockits,
Thus, in an honest way, still pick your pockets.

The first fitful throbbings indicating the death agony of the penal system of the colony were now heard, and the first breathings of that free national life now in full vigor were observed. When Macquarie was recalled in the latter part of 1821, after having held the reins of government for twelve years, the colony was undergoing a change which in its completion was to exhibit New South Wales to the world as the grandest instance of successful colonization ever. recorded in history, and not a few of the blessings this day enjoyed may be traced to the vigor of Macquarie’s administration. Even in his day the progress towards freedom and greatness was well marked, and he had the satisfaction of recording to the Home Government a few facts indicating  the material progress that had eventuated during his term of office. Here are a few extracts from a communication which he addressed to Earl Bathurst almost immediately after his return to England”

“I found the colony barely emerging from infantile imbecility, and suffering from various privations and disabilities; the country impenetrable beyond forty miles from Sydney; agriculture in a yet languishing state; commerce in its early dawn; revenue unknown; threatened with famine; distracted by faction; the public buildings in a state of dilapidation and mouldering to decay; the few roads and bridges formerly constructed rendered almost impassable; the population in general depressed by poverty; no public credit, nor private confidence; the morals of the great mass of the population in the lowest state of debasement, and religious worship almost totally neglected. Such was the state of New South Wales when I took charge of its administration on 1st January, 18 10. I left it in February last (his communication is dated July, 1822), reaping incalculable advantages from my extensive and important discoveries in all directions, including the supposed insurmountable barrier called the Blue Mountains, to the westward of which are situated the fertile plains of Bathurst; and, in all respects, enjoying a state of private comfort and public prosperity, which I trust will at least equal the expectation of His Majesty’s Government. The change may indeed be ascribed in part to the natural operation of time and events on individual enterprise : how far it may be attributed to measures originating with myself, as hereinafter detailed, and my zeal and judgment in giving effect to my instructions, I humbly submit to His Majesty and his ministers.

Governor Brisbane succeeded Macquarie, and entered upon his duties on 1st December, 1821. He was eminently unfitted for his position, for although a soldier he was weak and vacillating, and too much given to transferring to others the duties which he himself should have performed. At this time the struggle for supremacy between the different classes was at its height, and it required the vigorous brain and strong determination of a powerful, courageous man to guide the affairs of State, between the unscrupulous grasping of the disappointed military, the forceful demands of the wealthy emancipists for the restitution of legal and other rights, and the clamoring of the free settlers of the humbler class retired soldiers and sailors and emigrants who, although generally taking sides with the emancipists against the “pure merinos,” as the official aristocrats were called, were not unmindful of the claims of “Number One”. Brisbane neither had the courage nor the tact to manage matters properly. He was tossed hither and thither between the contending forces, and in order to escape from the clamor he made himself a retreat at Parramatta, where he established an observatory and devoted himself to the pursuit of scientific studies, seeking rest from the turmoil and strife of active official life in the quiet contemplation of the stars. Events did not stand still, however, and during his administration several important changes took place. The old monopolizing and domineering spirit, which had been checked by Macquarie, broke out stronger than ever, and militarism re-asserted itself, the Governor having practically to stand aside while officials help themselves and each other to place and power, and
divided the land in great slices between them.

Sudds and Thompson were two soldiers of the 57th Regiment doing duty in the colony in 1825. Thinking the lot of convicts preferable to their own, by reason of the indulgence granted and the opportunities for amassing wealth offered to that class, they committed a felony, by stealing a piece of cloth from a shop in George-street, Sydney, for the express purpose of getting themselves convicted, believing that after a short sentence they should emerge into a condition that would enable them to enjoy the privileges and opportunities enjoyed by the many favoured emancipists. Arrest, trial, conviction, and sentence followed, as they desired, the sentence being transportation to one of the auxiliary penal settlements for seven years. In the course of the trial, however, the motive leading to the commission of the crime was fully revealed, as was also the fact that there was widespread discontent among the military on account of the inferior position they were compelled to occupy. Fearing that the discipline of the troops would be seriously endangered if a check was not put upon these low-bred aspirations, Sir Ralph Darling, himself a military man, determined to take the men out of the custody of the civil power, and teach them and their fellow soldiers a lesson they would never forget. He issued a General Order in pursuance of which the two men were taken from the custody of the gaoler and brought to the Barrack- square in Sydney, where, in presence of the military, it was announced that their sentence had been changed to seven years hard labour in irons on the roads, and that on the expiration of their sentence they were to be returned to their regiment. But this was not all. The Governor invented a special form of ” ironing ” to suit the regimentals. The two men were stripped of their uniform and clothed in the convict dress; iron collars with long projecting spikes were then riveted round their necks and fetters and chains riveted on their legs. They were then drummed out of the Regiment and marched back to gaol while the band played ” The Rogue’s March.” What followed is best told in the words of the only one of the two who survived to tell the tale. Sudds, who was in bad health at the time, overcome with grief, shame, and disappointment, which was not at all relieved by the heat of the sun on the day of the exposure in the Barrack-square, re-entered the prison only to die, and this is the manner in which his fellow- prisoner, Thompson, described the new experience of prison-life, when examined on board the Phoenix hulk: ”

“We were taken to the parade ground and the regimentals taken off us, and a suit of yellow cloth put on each of us, and a General Order read to us by Brigade Mayor Gillham, by the order of his Excellency General Darling. After the Order was read to us a set of irons was put on each of us. The irons consisted of a collar which went round each of our necks, and chains were fastened to the collar on each side of the shoulder, and reached from thence to the basil, which was placed about three inches from each ankle. There was a piece of iron which projected from the collar before and behind, about eight inches at each place. The projecting iron would not allow me to stretch myself at full length on my back. I could sleep on my back by contracting my legs. I could not lie at full length on either side without contracting my legs. 1 could not stand upright with the irons on. The basil of the irons would not slip up my legs, and the chains were too short to allow me to stand upright. I was never measured for the irons, and Sudd’s collar was too small for his neck, and the basils for his legs, which were swollen. I never heard him say he had the dropsy in the West Indies. Sudds was turned out of the hospital the morning of his punishment, and taken to the barracks about an hour afterwards. Sudds was taken from the hospital to the Session on the 6th November. [The inquiry was held on 23rd April following] ; he appeared to be very ill, insomuch that the man who was handcuffed with him was obliged to sit down on the grass in the court yard in order to enable him to lie down. He continued in that way until after the trial. “

After the yellow clothes and the irons were put on us in manner before mentioned, we were drummed out of the Regiment, the ‘ Rogue’s March ‘ being played after us by two or three drummers or fifers. We were not drummed out in the usual way, which is, to put a rope about the neck, cut off the facings and place a piece of paper on the back, with a description of the offence which the party may have committed.

Instead of this we had the ins-bacon and the yellow clothing. On our return to the same ward in the gaol, Sudds sat down with his back to the wall saying that he was very ill, and wished to go to the hospital again, but he did not go to the hospital till next morning. The basils of his irons cut his legs during the time we were coming from the barracks to the gaol; it was owing to the sharpness of the basil and the weight of it that we were cut. The night of the day of punishment Sudds was so ill that we were obliged to get a candle about eight o’clock from Wilson, the under-jailer, in order to keep up a light during the night. I gave him some tea which I had purchased. About ten o’clock he was very ill. I requested a fellow prisoner to get up and look at him, thinking he was dying. The fellow prisoner, whose name I do not know, did look at him and said he was not dying, but he did not think he would live long. I then asked Sudds if he had any friends to whom he would wish to write. He said he had a wife and child in Gloucestershire, and begged that if he did not get better by the next night, I would read some pious book to him, adding “that they had put him in them irons till they had killed him’ “

The Governor and his friends endeavored to account for Sudds’ death by stating that he had previously suffered from dropsy, and that he had been neglected by the medical officer ; but they were unable to produce evidence in support of their allegations, and the report of the medical officer of the gaol fully disproved the theory they had set up to ease their consciences under the self- accusations of murder, which must have been ever repeating themselves. Dr. Mclntyre declared : ” I found him in a state of delirium on the 26th instant, and he was removed to the General Hospital, where he gradually became worse, and expired the following morning. After a minute dissection of the body, no apparent disease was found to exist to account for his immediate death.” The iron had entered this poor man’s soul.

THE DODGER

Fare-ye-vell, my Vitechapel boys, fare-ye-well for a while,
For you see the bobbies and the beaks has tumbled to my style
But it’s all wery vell vhen you’re in luck, your friends will stand a cup.
But vhen you’re down they keeps you down acause they turns you up.

So fare-ye-well, my Vitechapel boys, and you vot keeps a fence,
I’m going avay to Australia, but not at my own expense.

I’ve got an out an out good name for being a roving blade,
I’m fly to every downy dodge, and a stunner at my trade;
But the best of all the flyest coves am werry much to blame,
Because they makes the bobbies fly to tumble to their game.

I nailed this yellow vipe from a swell, whilst going up Drury-lane;
And this bandanna from a bloke whilst drinking champagne
This from a foreigner I took vhilst valking Leicester-square,
And this vone from another chap as grand as a Lord Mayor.

There’s one or two more lately you see taken folks in quite unavares,
I should like to know the difference betvixt these vipes and the railway shaes;
The Crystal Palace ‘cotched it too, but they had themselves to thank,
But the biggest swindle of ’em all, was the Royal British Bank.

When Mr Dickens wrote his work, he drew my character so veil
Betvixt the artful dodger and me none could the difference tell,
Mr Cruckedshanks vot drink no gin — in his picture you may see
The very dodger vhat I mean — all of a tvist like me.

I never injured any one, and vorked hard for what I got
For nothing comes amiss me, except the vile garotte,
For every finger dodge there is, I’ve got a happy knack,
And never like a coward struck any man behind his back.

Now fare-ye-vell, my Vitechapel boys, to part vith you I grieve
But I’ll return to you vonce more, vhen I’ve voaked the ticket of leave.
Here’s one dodge that keeps up my pluck, and does my spirits cheer,
This is ven I return again, you’ll welcome the dodger here.

My mother’s family, the Solomons and Phillips were from the Bow Bells cockney district and I always pictured them as part of the barrow boy and rowdy music hall culture (which they were on both counts). They held many of the cockney colloquial sayings and, of course, the songs. My grandfather, Sid Phillips, worked a barrow outside of Sydney’s Mark Foy’s emporium. My mother and her siblings, when children, had the task of visiting parts of the rich eastern suburbs to ‘collect’ flowers! Later, from the post war 1940s Sid sold stationary (and collected racing tips) at Paddy’s Market. I found this song in Hugh Anderson’s Farewell To Judges and Juries and it is from the broadside published by H. Disley, Printer, High Street, St. Giles, London. Not dated. The idea of a story fashioned around convict transportation and Charles Dickens was too good to be denied. I set the tune to it for a concert I gave at the Mitchell Library, February 2007. A few explanations: a ‘fence’ is someone who receives stolen property, The Crystal Palace was an iron and glass building originally erected in London’s Hyde Park to house the Great Exhibition of 1851. More than 14,000 exhibitors from around the world were gathered inside to display examples of the latest technology developed in the Revolution. The ‘Mr Cruckedshanks’ refers to George Cruikshanks the painter who, apparently, ‘drank no gin’. I particularly like the play on words where the singer says ‘The very dodger what I mean – all of a twist like me’ which, as you can see, refers to ‘Oliver Twist’

The idea that Australia was the best country to succeed the American colonies and Africa as the receptacle of convicts from the overcrowded gaols of England originated with Thomas Lord Sydney, who was Secretary of State for the colonies from 1784 to 1789. The objects of the project were : ” (i). To rid the mother country of the prisoners whose rapidly increasing numbers in the gaols rendered penal discipline so difficult; (2). to afford a proper place for the safe custody and punishment of the criminals, as well as for their reformation ; (3). to form a free colony out of the materials which the prisoners thus reformed would supply, together with the free immigrants who might settle in the country after the work of settlement had been completed. The project was a wise one, but it did not meet with the approval of a few of the leading philanthropists of England, who stoutly opposed it by tongue and pen, and this opposition was only borne down by the Government gagging the press, imprisoning one of the foremost objectors, and carrying on their work in secret. When their scheme was complete, in August, 1786, the Commissioners of the King’s navy, having been furnished with a statement showing all the criminals sentenced to transportation, published advertisements in the official Gazette and the London Observer intimating that the Government intended to charter seven vessels to convey between 700 and 800 felons to Botany Bay.
They also posted placards conveying the same intimation at the most popular coffee-houses in London. The result was that the Treasury Board shortly thereafter concluded a contract with the owners of six vessels to convey the criminals to the new country. Three storeships were also engaged to accompany the fleet, and H.M.S. ” Sirius,” mounted with 20 guns, and an armed brig, the ” Supply,” were placed in commission. As it was expected that the voyage would last nearly a year, the work of fitting and equipping the vessels therefore was one of considerable magnitude, and several months elapsed before it was complete.

The Transports

At different times the transports were loaded with their living freight, until the whole of the convicts had been “housed ” in safety, being placed in irons (the females excepted) in the holds of the vessels, which were divided into compartments. When the squadron was ready to sail the total number of persons on board was 1036, and comprised 11 officials of the civil establishment, 18 officers forming the military staff, 184 marines from which the garrison was formed, 28 women, wives of the marines, with 17 of their children ; and 586 male and 192 female convicts.

As it is with the prisoners that I have to chiefly deal, it is necessary that a few particulars concerning their characters should here be given. Many persons have taken it for granted that the men and women who were honoured with the title of ‘First Fleeters’ were necessarily ‘first ruffians’ villains of the deepest dye ” the worst of all the bad convicts of all England, Scotland, and Ireland. But nothing could be farther from the truth. They were in fact the picked men and women of the gaols, the major part being (to use the words of Captain Tench, who commanded one of the transports) ” mechanics and husbandmen, selected on purpose by order of the Government.” It must not be forgotten that in those days sentences of death were as frequently passed by the judges as magistrates’ orders to inebriates to pay a fine of five shillings are made now a days and the “crimes” to which the capital sentence was attached were, some of them, not so bad as the offence of drunkenness. Hence transportation was inflicted on hundreds ” it may not be beyond the mark to say thousands ” who were guilt}^ of offences which in the present age are accounted most trifling, and which are now punished with a small fine, or at most a few weeks’ imprisonment. It is on record that in 1789 a wealthy gentleman named Eyre was transported to Botany Bay for stealing a few quires of notepaper, and hundreds were sent across the seas for offences not in any degree greater than that. As late as 181 8 a reverend doctor, who was tutor to the Earl of Chesterfield was transported hither for forging a tenpenny postage stamp to a letter. That Gentleman ” for he was a gentleman in every sense of the word ” afterwards became famous in the land to which he was sent as a felon.

Origin of First Fleet Convicts:

As previously stated, the number of convicts brought out in the first fleet was 778. It is stated that only those whose health was robust were chosen as the first Australian exiles, and this no doubt explains how it was that SO few of the “first fleeters ” died on the voyage out, and how it was that so many of them lived to become very  old colonists. From the returns furnished by the officials I  find that of the 778, no less than 265 were convicted in London, 55 in Exeter, 25 in Bristol, 18 in Gloucester, 18 in Launceston, 16 in Kingston, 14 in Maidstone, 13 in Reading, 12 in Winchester, 12 in Shrewsbury, 12 in Manchester, 10 in Worcester, 9 in Warwick, 9 in Dorchester, and several in each of the towns of Liverpool, York, Croydon, Oxford, and other places. Out of the 778 exiles nearly 700 were sentenced to 7 years’ imprisonment, and the sentences of 5 of them commenced in 1782, 41 in 1783, 190 in 1784, 209 in 1785, 168 in 1786, and 51 in 1787. There were 4 of the exiles who had in 1786 been sentenced to 5 years’ imprisonment, and only 24 sentenced to 14 years in 1785 and 1786. Only 39 were sentenced to penal servitude for life, and 17 of this number were convicted in 1785. So that before the colony had been established five years no less than 650 of the 778 had served their sentences and become free.

A First Hand Convict Report:

One of the earlier convicts, who afterwards became somewhat famous in New South Wales, thus describes the embarkation and initial movements of the floating ‘Black Marias’ employed to convey exiles to the new land, and his narrative may be taken as fairly descriptive of the first voyage undertaken.

“My fellow prisoners, to the amount of upwards of 200, were all ordered into the hold, which was rendered as convenient as circumstances would admit, battens being fixed fore and aft for hammocks, which were hung 1 7 inches apart from each other; but being encumbered with their irons, together with the want of fresh air, soon rendered their situation truly deplorable. To alleviate their condition, as much as was consistent with the safety of the ship, they were permitted to walk the deck in turns, ten at a time; the women, of whom we had six, had a snug berth made for them, and were kept by themselves.

“ My messmate, the boatswain (the writer had purchased certain privileges above his fellows, having a little money and some influential friends) had provided me with a neat slung hammock, and gave me a berth next his own; at the same time addressing some of his shipmates who were present, with, ” Lookee, my hearties, as I know you are all above distressing a gentleman under misfortune, I’m sure you will consent to his having this here berth ; but if so be as how any of you don’t like it, why, you may have mine” it isn’t the first time I have prick’d for the softest plank.’ Whether from the oratory of my new friend, or the insinuating appearance of a large can of flip, produced from an ample liquor case, which promised a succession of the same arguments, the iron muscles of his auditors were softened down to a significant smile, and universal nod of assent. The settling of this important business afforded me great satisfaction, as it not only assured me a comfortable berth for my hammock, but a place also for my little property, which I should have immediately under my eye. “ We lay about a week at Long Reach, when we dropt down to Gravesend ; here the captain came on board, and some soldiers of the New South Wales Corps ; we got under weigh the next morning, and proceeded to the Downs ; it blowing strong to the westward, we came to an anchor. The wind veering about we were at daybreak again under sail, and arrived at the Mother Bank, where lay several other transports for the same destination. “ It was about ten days before we were ready to sail from hence, the interval being employed in getting fresh stock and replenishing our water. On the report of our being ready for sea being made to the admiral, a lieutenant of the navy came on board, as agent for transports, and immediately made the signal for the masters of the other ships to come on board, to whom he delivered their sailing instructions, and on the following morning made the signal to weigh. By a quarter past 9 we were under easy sail, and it blowing a stiff easterly breeze, we ran through the Needles. It was delightful weather, and the prospect on each hand must have afforded the most agreeable sensation to every beholder,, being, perhaps, as rich and luxuriant as is anywhere to be met with ; but, alas ! it only brought a fresh pang to the bosom of one who in all probability was bidding it adieu for ever.

[Convict life in NSW and Van Diemens Land, Charles White. Published by White at Bathurst 1889]

Warren Fahey sings ‘A Ticket of Leave’ a ballad from the transportation era.

A TICKET OF LEAVE AT BOTHWELL

John Mitchel Jail Journal, New York, 1854

‘Rural population!’ – it is almost profane to apply the title to these rascals. All the shepherds and stock-keepers, without exception, are convicts – many of them thrice-convicted convicts! There is no peasantry. Very few of them have wives; still fewer families; and the fewer the better. Their wives are always transported women, too; shoplifters, prostitutes, pickpockets, and other such sweepings of the London pavements. Yet, after all, what a strange animal is man! The best shepherds in Van Diemen’s Land are London thieves – men who never saw a live sheep before they were transported, and what is stranger still, many of them grow rather decent – it would be too strong to say honest – by there ere contact with their mother earth here. They are friendly to one another – hospitable to travellers (partly because they thirst for news) and otherwise comport themselves partly like human beings. Yet human they are not. Their training has made them sub-human, preterhuman; and the system of ‘British reformatory discipline’ has gone as near as to making them perfect fiends, as human wit can go. One is perpetually reminded here of that hideous description of van Diemen’s Land, given by a person who knew it well – ‘Let a man be what he will when he comes here, the human heart is taken out of him, and there is given to him the heart of a beast’. What a blessing to these creatures, and to mankind, both in the northern hemisphere and southern, if they had been hanged!

THE LAST CONVICT SHIPS AND END OF TRANSPORTATION

Source: In 1879 J. A. Heaton published a ‘Book of Dates’ relating to the early years of the Colony of New South Wales. It is an extraordinary work and provides facts, figures and observations on a wide range of ‘colonial doings’. All spelling, including place names, has been left as per the original documents.

The Eden was the last convict ship but one – that landed convicts in New South Wales, November 18, 1839.

The Hashemy, 936 tons. Captain Ross, with 212 convicts, arrived in Sydney Harbour June 8, 1849. [A great meeting took place to protest against transportation, June 11, 1849.  Mr. Robert Campbell was chairman in the absence of Mr. Robert Lowe. Mr. Lamb moved the adoption of the “protest,” which was : –

“ We, the free and loyal subjects of Her Most Gracious Majesty, inhabitants of the city of Sydney and its immediate neighbourhood, in public meeting assembled, do hereby enter our most deliberate and solemn protest against the transportation of British criminals to the colony of New South Wales. Firstly, – Because it is in violation of the will of the majority of the colonists, as is clearly evidenced by their ex-pressed opinions on this question at all times.  Secondly, – Because numbers among us have emigrated on the faith of the British Government that transportation had ceased for ever. Thirdly, – Because it is incompatible with our existence as a free colony desiring self government to be made the receptacle of anothercountry’s felons. Fourthly, – Because it is in the highest degree unjust to sacrifice the great social and political interests of the colony at large to the pecuniary profit of a fraction of its inhabitants.   Fifthly, Because, being firmly and devotedly attached to the British Crown, we greatly fear that the perpetration of so stupendous an act of injustice by Her Majesty’s Government, will go far towards alienating the affections of the people of this colony from the mother country. For these and many other kindred reasons – in the exercise of our duty to our country – for the love we bear our families in the strength of our loyalty to Great Britain – and from the depth of our reverence for Almighty God – we protest against the landing of British convicts on these shores.” Mr. Lowe, who had in the meantime arrived, seconded this. A deputation of six presented the petition to Governor Fitzroy for transmission to England. They asked the Governor to send the prisoners back, but he refused.  A meeting was held June 18, 1849, and the first resolution prayed Her Majesty to remove Earl Grey from her counsels.]

“Tuesday, June 19, 1849 – All the convicts will be removed from the ship this morning. They have all been engaged.  In addition to those previously mentioned, a large draft was sent to Parramatta on Saturday under engagement to Mr. Fitzgerald, M.L.C., and Mr. Lawson, and others. The forty-five sent to Moreton Bay were forwarded at the expense of the Government, not being under any engagement but merely sent to the district in order that the settlers there may have an opportunity of hiring them.  All the rest have been taken from the ship at the expense of the employers. The only restrictions are that the men are not to be landed in Sydney and they shall not be employed in the county of Cumberland.”
– From Sydney newspapers.

JaneIsabella, A small craft, seized at Port Macquarie, by prisoners, and not since heard of, October, 1823.
An assigned servant of Thomas Potter McQueen, and five of the prisoners of the Crown,absconded, on October 4, 1828, from his station and attempted to reach Timor or New Guinea overland. After penetrating the country for 200 or 300 miles, and enduring the most frightful sufferings, by which all his companions died,  Mr McQueen’s servant returned, and gave himself up, November 26, 1828, to Peter M’lntyre, J.P., of Sigenhoc Estate.

Seizure of the Government barque “ Lady Franklin,” Captain Willett, by 22 convicts when on their way from Hobart Town to Nor-folk Island, December 28, 1853. [The convicts overpowered the guard and retained possession of the barque for eleven days, when they loaded the ship’s boats with provisions and left in them.]

Sally Sloane sings her version of ‘The Black Velvet Band’. Recorded by John Meredith.

Sally Sloane sings ‘The Wild Boy’, a song about the prodigal son returning – from transportation. Recorded by Warren Fahey, Lithgow, 1987.

Bob Hart sings ‘Australia’ a transportation ballad. Recorded by Rod and Danny Stradling in 1969

Sally Sloane sings a love ballad, ‘Green Bushes’. This version was recorded by Warren Fahey, Lithgow, 1987.

Warren Fahey sings a version of ‘Van Diemen’s Land’

There were many broadside ballads written about transportation. The following short essay on Broadsides and Ballads was published in the Companion to Australian Music (Currency Press):

In the early 19th century sellers of broadside ballads were a common sight in the streets of Great Britain and Ireland. A broadside, or broadsheet, was an uncut, unfolded sheet of paper. A sheet would be printed on one side – which suited it to pasting on a wall – with a proclamation, an advertise- ment, or a song or two and appropriate woodcut illustra- tions.

Broadside printers employed songwriters who would attend trials and early music halls, take notes and quickly write verses, often to fit a popular tune, which the broadside named. Broadside-sellers would shout their “call” and the best parts of the ballad. Often they would sing “come all ye” songs.

As book printing became cheaper many popular broadside ballads were gathered into chapbooks. The final verses of many ballads offered stern warnings against crime. Ballads such as The dreadful murder of Maria Marten and the red barn door were sung all over Great Britain and taken to Canada, the USA and Australia.

In British and Irish libraries in 1985 the folklore collector Ron Edwards saw counted 160 broadsides with Australian content, notably Van Diemen’s Land and Henry’s downfall, both in several versions. It is likely that none had been printed in Australia, but some ballads had probably been composed in the colonies and taken back to Great Britain and Ireland by former convicts and others.

Broadside ballads were published in Australia, however, in the second half of the 19th century, when their function had already been usurped by chapbooks, especially cheap, popular pocket songsters, such as those of Charles Thatcher. The last known broadside publisher was P.F. Collins – Percy the Poet – who sold ballads at the Sydney Cricket Ground in the 1920s and 1930s, on subjects ranging from mining disasters to sport. Present-day singer-songwriters could be said to continue this tradition.

There are also several broadside library collection indexes that can be accessed by the internet. Simply enter ‘broadside ballads’ for a listing. There are two standard Australian works on these early broadsides:

• ‘True Patriots All’ (out of print) by Geoffrey Ingleson (Angus & Robertson, Sydney) and
• Hugh Anderson’s ‘Farewell to Judges and Juries’ (Red Rooster Press, Melbourne, 2000).

Folklorist Ron Edwards also issued two volumes of reprinted broadsides as ‘The Transport’s Lament’ and ‘The Convict Maid’. The following was one of the most popular.

Ballads about poaching were extremely common, because poaching itself was so widespread. As the majority of people were unable to procure fresh meat honestly, they took to stealing or poaching. It was so prevalent that it was hardly an exaggeration to say that nearly every man you met was a poacher! It was generally thought that those men were justified in their actions. In 1828 the penalties for poaching became three months imprisonment for the first offence, six for a second and seven years transportation for a third. But if three or four men, one of whom carried a gun or bludgeon, were found in a wood, all were liable for transportation for fourteen years to Van Diemen’s Land. The island was first used as a penal settlement in 1804 and continued as such for another forty-nine years. Port Arthur was considered one of the most dreaded prisons although it was a ‘model prison’.

VAN DIEMEN’S LAND

Come, all you gallant poachers,
That ramble free from care,
That walk out of a moonlight night,
With your dog, your gun, and snare;
Where the lusty hare and pheasant
You have at your command,
Not thinking that your last career
Is on Van Diemen’s Land

There was poor Tom Brown from Nottingham,
Jack Williams, and poor Joe,
Were three as daring poachers
As the country well does know;
At night they were trepanned
By the keepers hid in sand,
And for fourteen years transported were
Unto Van Diemen’s Land.

Oh! when we sailed from England
We landed at the bay,
We had rotten straw for bedding,
We dared not to say nay.
Our cots were fenced with fire,
(we slumber when we can,)
To drive away the wolves and tigers
Upon Van Diemen’s Land.

Oh! when that we were landed
Upon that fatal shore,
The planters they came flocking round,
Full twenty score or more;
They ranked us up like horses,
And sold us out of hand,
They yoked us to the plough, my boys,
To plough Van Diemen’s Land.

There was one girl from England,
Susan Summers was her name,
For fourteen years transported was,
We all well knew the same;
Our planter bought her freedom,
And he married her out of hand,
Good usage then she gave to us,
Upon Van Diemen’s Land.

Oh! oft when I am slumbering,
I have a pleasant dream:
With my sweet girl I am sitting,
Down by some purling stream,
Through England I am roaming,
With her at my command,
Then waken, brokenhearted,
Upon Van Diemen’s Land.

God bless our wives and families,
Likewise that happy shore,
That isle of sweet contentment
Which we shall see no more.
As for our wretched females,
See them we seldom can,
There are twenty to one woman
Upon Van Diemen’s Land.

Come all you gallant poachers,
Give ear unto my song,
It is a bit of good advice,
Although it is not long:
Lay by your dog and snare;
To you I do speak plain,
If you knew the hardships we endure
You ne’er would poach again.
Anonymous. This oral version was collected in Sussex, England, in 1893, and is essentially the same as the broadside in the Kidson Collection and included in Ron Edward’s folio collection, The Transport’s Lament. There are many broadside versions of this ballad including the version collected and annotated by Colm O’Lochlainn in Irish Street Ballads, 1952 edition, as reprinted in Stewart and Keesing’s 1957 Edition of Old Bush Songs. The Baring-Gould collected version cites the tune ‘The Transports.’

 

Peter O’Shaughnessy presents a brilliant 35-minute portrayal of Australia’s greatest convict poet, Frank MacNamara. Peter passed away a few year’s back and was keen I include this on the site. It has occasional slight hiss noise but very enjoyable nonetheless. 

Peter O’Shaughnessy (b.1923), actor and producer, produced many Australian plays and acted the major Shakespearian tragic roles both in Australia and overseas. He was noted for his interpretation of Samuel Beckett’s plays and one-act performances of Diary of a Madman, adapted from Gogol. Peter, a longtime friend of Warren Fahey, delighted in revealing the characters of Australia’s convict history, but none more so than his portrayals of Frank the Poet MacNamara.

In 1968 he collaborated with Graeme Inson and Russel Ward on a lavishly illustrated anthology, The Restless Years, based on his award-winning television program of the same name.

In 1977 Warren Fahey cast him alongside Declan Affley in a 16 part ABC radio series ‘The Australian Legend’. The entire series can be heard on this site under ‘podcasts and radio programs’.

Portrait from the National Galley of Australian Collection. Part of the Melbourne intellectual avant-garde of the 1940s, Howard Matthews was a brilliant student. He is said to have introduced Sidney Nolan to the poetry of Rimbaud and Verlaine

A Convict’s Tour of Hell – about the poetic work

This poetical monologue is one of the treasures of the convict era. It also has a fascinating story as it has appeared in at least four variants. I located this version in 2005 in a newspaper clipping book held by the Mitchell Library, Sydney. It is quite different to the accepted original version given to the Library in 1958 by Mrs Trimingham, of Northbridge, NSW, who had found a booklet in her father’s (Ernest Cameron) papers (mss c967). This booklet was watermarked 1838, folded and cut to yield 16 leaves measuring 3 inches by 3-3/4 inches. The 32 pages were covered with ornate writing and personally signed by Francis MacNamara (aka Macnamara). One of the items in the booklet was ‘The Convict’s Tour of Hell, composed and written at Stroud, 1839.’

Meredith and Whalan tracked one of the works in the booklet that referred to a petition to Captain Furlong who was Superintendent of the Newcastle Chain Gang and that led to the discovery of Francis Macnamara under his supervision. This Macnamara came to Australia in the ship ‘Eliza’ in 1832 and hailed from County Wicklow, Ireland.
‘When he arrived in Sydney from Newcastle in the Ironed Gang, Macnamara was sent to Woolloomooloo Stockade, a clearing station, where he remained until 5th December, when he was forwarded to the stockade at Parramatta. During this period the ‘Dialogue Between Two Hibernians’ was somehow sent to to the Sydney gazette and was published by that paper in February, 1840.” (Meredith/Whalan)

When charged with a colonial offence, it was common for a convict to give false particulars about himself, so that his previous record would be difficult to trace and this is obviously what Macnamara did in saying he had come from Wicklow when charged in Newcastle in 1839. When he was admitted to Woolloomooloo he stated it as Cashel, Country Tipperary. He did this on two further documentations and this helped Meredith and Whalan establish firm grounds for declaring him the right man. Macnamara further provided evidence in his own work as quoted in the memoirs of Martin Cash, the Tasmanian bushranger, who referred to the Poet’s address:
My name is Frank MacNamara,
A native of Cashel, County Tipperary,
Sworn to be a tyrant’s foe,
And while I live I crow.

Another Francis Macnamara, or ‘Goddard’ as he sometimes referred himself, was an Irish convict from Dublin. He was most likely the one Francis MacNamara who was transported on the ship ‘Dorothy’ in 1820. He was 62 when he arrived in the colony to serve a 14 year sentence however he earned his ticket-of-leave seven years later in 1827, and his certificate of freedom in 1833. Meredith and Whalan established some firm evidence that this was not the Poet.

John Meredith and Rex Whalan did considerable research to identify who was the most likely ‘Frank the Poet’ since there were several possibilities and, as they suggested, he should have been a much younger man considering his references in his body of work.
The recently discovered version is significant because it is from an oral source and also for its early date. One can only assume that the poem had been circulated orally and that has contributed to its variants.
This version was published in the Cumberland Times (Sydney) on 27 December 1900 with following information.

Before the Cumberland Times again appears, we shall have entered a new century and a fresh phrase of political existence. To make anything like even an epitomised retrospect of the History of Australia, Convict, Currency, Ticket-of-Leave, Free Pardon, or strung up by the hands of the hangman, would take more time and space than on this Christmas Eve, when we pen this notice, the Cumberland Times can afford. With the end of the century we may reasonably hope that whatever stain of convictism, political, social, or religious that may have attached to the earlier history of Australia will have vanished, and no future Governor, whether a State Governor, or a Governor-General, will twit the people of the Commonwealth with having ‘outlived their birth stain.’

The author of the following satire, ‘poem’, or whatever it most properly be called, was a convict, a lame man and assigned servant. He was evidently one who knew something about literature, and that he was well-acquainted with the local history of convictism, not only in New South Wales but throughout the whole of the Australian convict settlements, is manifested by the rhymes which we this week publish as a memento of the dark days during which ‘Frank the Poet’ lived and hated with an intensity of venom, which we, living under happier circumstances, can with difficulty realise. The lines, so far as we know, have never before appeared in print. They come to us through Mr Thomas H. Lennard, and Englishman, but true Australian gentleman, who is a personal friend of John Morley, who was intimate with George Jacob Holyoake and many other radical politicians before he ever set foot on the shores of Australasia. Mr Lennard accompanied the writer to ‘Kenilworth’, Annandale, for the purpose of visiting the late Sir Henry Parkes during his last and fatal illness. We, at ‘Kenilworth’, met his self-devoted medical attendant, Dr Maurice O’Connor, who, alas, is since also dead. He, the handsome, whole-souled, generous gentleman, informed the anxious enquirers that the patient could not be interviewed. As will be seen by the appendix, the poem has been verbally handed down from one ticket-of-leave man, or one assigned servant to another, and doubtless there are errors in arising from repetition and transcription that might give umbrage to ‘Frank the Poet’, had he lived to see himself in print. Glaring errors in the manuscript have been eliminated by the writer of this notice, but the withering satire in the verses has not at all been interfered with.

Appendix:
The authorship of this curio belongs to ‘an old hand’ named Frank Goddard, some of whose effusions are said to have been of a very credible character, whatever they may now seem considered. He was a lame man and died somewhere about 1853.
It was copied in 1857 by the late Mr Thomas Holdstock, of Raymond Terrace, from the dictation of an old man who had been assigned servant with Goddard, and who had a store of the latter effusions in his memory. The manuscript was given to me to copy in 1857. Signed J. Whitley, Sydney. April 1885

This version has variants of the version contained in the Mitchell MSS Cat B388 ‘Some Personal Reminiscences – Lower Hunter River. 1855-1857 by Thomas Whitley. (nb: not J. Whitley as above) as containing the version attributed to Thomas Holdstock and published in the Sydney Morning Herald, 1857,

This recorded version appears on the album ‘Rare Convict ballads and Broadsides’ available iTunes or CD from this site’s shop.

Warren Fahey recites ‘A Convicts’ Tour of Hell’.

THE CONVICT’S TOUR OF HELL. You prisoners of New South Wales Who frequent watch-houses and gaols, A story true to you I’ll tell, Tis of a Poet’s tour to hell. Our hero’s valour had been tried, On the highway before he died This hero’s valour oft was tried, At length to death he fell a prey, To him it proved a happy day. Downwards he bent his course, we’re told, Like me, destined to Satan’s fold, And no refreshments would he take, Till he approached the Stygian Lake. At length he then began fix Contiguous to the river Styx, And thinking no one would molest him, He stood _ when Charon thus addressed him: “Stranger! Art thou friend or foe? What’s thy name? Pray let me know.” “Kind sir! I come from Sydney goal, My name I wish not to conceal, And as you do desire to know it, On earth I was called ‘Frank the Poet.’” “Are you that person?” Charon said, “I’ll carry you to yonder side, And stranger! Do not troubled be, I’ll grant to you a passage free, Tho’ sixpence is my usual charge For passage in my well pitched barge But noble guest! I’d have you know it, I never mean to charge a poet.” No other succour being nigh Frank with the invite did comply’ And leaving Charon at the ferry Went straightway down to Purgatory, And knocking boldly at the gate Of Limbo – or the middle state – Pope Pious Nono soon appeared With beads, gown, crucifix, and beard, And gazing at the poet awhile Addressed him in the following style: – “Stranger! Art thou friend or foe? Thy business, too, pray let me know” Said Frank, “For Heaven I am not fitted, So here I hope to be admitted.” Cried Pious – “Vain are all your hopes, This place was made for Priests and Popes; This is a world of our own invention, So Frank, I’ve not the least intention To admit you here – a foolish elf, Who scarce knows how to bless himself.” Frank answered – “Were you all insane When you composed this world of pain? For naught can I discern but fire, And share of that I don’t desire. And midst it, weeping, wailing, gnashing, With torments of the newest fashion! More justly they the fools and elves Who made a rod to beat themselves; And may you and your honest neighbours Enjoy the fruits of all your labours. Bidding the Pope a long farewell, Frank hurried to the Gulf of Hell, And having found that gloomy gate, He knocked aloud to know his fate. He louder knocked, and louder still, Till Satan came – “Pray, what’s your will?” “Alas!” cried Frank, “I’ve come to dwell with you, and share your fate in hell.” Cried Satan, “That can’t be I’m sure, For I detest and hate the poor, None shall in my Kingdom stand Except the wealthy and the grand. So Frank! I think you’ve got astray, For convicts never come this way, But soar in Heaven, in droves and legions, A place so-called in the upper regions. And Frank! I think with an empty purse You might go farther and fare worse. Well, cried the Poet, “Since ‘tis so, One thing of you I’d wish to know, And I’m at present in no hurry, “Have you one here called Captain Murray?” ”Yes, Murray ‘s here within this place; perhaps you’d like to see his face.” “May God forbid that I should view him, aboard the Phoenix hulk I knew him. But who is that in yonder blaze? On fire and brimstone seems to graze.” He’s Captain Logan, of Moreton Bay, And Williams – killed the other day, Was overseer at Gross’ farm, And did you convicts no small harm. Cook, who discovered New South Wales, And he who first invented goals, Are both tied to a fiery stake That stands in yonder burning lake. Hark! Hera you not that dreadful yelling? It comes from Doctor Wardell’s dwelling; And yonder see those fiery chairs? They’re fitted up for beaks and mayors, And men of all judicial orders, Beaks, bankers, lawyers and recorders. Then Frank saw legions of traitors, Hangmen, gaolers, flagellators, Commandants, constables, and spies; Informers, overseers likewise , In flames of brimstones they were toiling, And lakes of sulphur round them boiling. Hell resonant with hideous yelling; Alas! How dismal was their dwelling. Then Major Morrison then he espied, With Captain Clooney by his side. They in fire-belt were lashed together As tight as sole to upper leather; Their situation here was horrid For both were tyrants to the nor’ard. Next he beheld old Sergeant Flood, In Vulcan’s hottest forge he stood; He gazed on Frank – his eyes with ire Appeared like burning coals of fire. He by a red –hot clasping band Was to a lofty lamp-post chained With fiery garments all arrayed Like wild Arabian ass he brayed. Loud he implored for Frank’s assistance To end for him his sad existence. “Cheer up,” said Frank, “don’t be dismayed, Remember number 3 stockade; In course of time you may do well If you behave yourself in hell. Your heart on earth was fraught with malice, You oft drove convicts to the gallows, A greater rogue in shoes ne’er trod. You now atone for all the blood Of convicts shed by Sergeant Flood.” He next beheld that noted trapman And police runner, Israel Chapman, Steeped was he standing to his head In cauldron hot of boiling lead. “Alas!” he cried, “behold me stranger, I’ve captured many a bold bushranger, For which I am now suffering here, But lo! Now yonder snakes appear.” Then Frank beheld some loathly worms And snakes of varied shapes and forms, All entering at the mouth and ears To gnaw his guts for endless years. He next beheld the Company’s Commissioner At knee like humblest petitioner. “Satan,” he cried, “my life is ended, For many years I’ve superintended The Agricultural Company’s affairs And punctually paid all arrears. But if you doubt the hopping colonel (Dumaresq) At Carrington you’ll find my journal Careful writ out in black and white, I’ll prove that my accounts are right.” The poet turned to go away, But Lucifer begged he would stay. Now Poet Frank, stay, don’t you go man, Till you see your friend, Doctor Bowman; See how he trembles, writhes and gnashes, He gave you many the thousand lashes, And for those same he does bewail; While Oscar with his iron flail Thrashes him well you may depend, And will – till time shall have an end.” Just as he spoke a coach and four Came up in post haste to the door, And some six feet of mortal sin, Sans leave or license tumbled in. At its arrival cheers were given That reached from Hell to Highest Heaven; And all the denizens of Hell With one rope peeled the greatest bell That ne’er was known to sound or ring Since Judas sold our Heavenly King. Drums were beating, flags were hoisting, Never before was there such rejoicing; Dancing, singing, joy and mirth, In Heaven above – and on the earth. Straightway to Lucifer Frank went To learn what these rejoicings meant. “Of sense,” cried Satan, “I’m deprived since Governor Darling has arrived; brimstone and fire I’ve ordered him, and Vulcan has his tools in trim. And I’ll now find a fixed abode, For Colonel Wilson’s on the road. Don’t go, Frank. Till you see the novice, The Colonel from the Police Office. “Sir,” answered Frank, “I’m satisfied To learn that he’s to be tied And tortured in this world of fire; With your leave, sir, I’ll now retire.” And after travelling many days O’er fiery hills and boiling seas, At length he found that happy place, Where all the woes of mortal cease; And rapping boldly at the wicket, Says Peter, “Where’s your certificate? Or if you have got none to show Pray ‘Who in Heaven do you know?” “Why, sir, I know Bold Jack Donohue, And Johnny Prog, and Jenkins too, And many more whom scourgers bled, Were lastly by Jack ketch strung dead.” “Peter,” the Son said, “Let Frank in, For he is truly purged from sin; Altho’ in convict costume drest Here shall he be a welcome guest. Enoch! Go you with him to Job, And put on him a silken robe. Saint Paul! Go to the flock straightway, And kill a calf or two today, Tell Abraham, and likewise Abel, In haste to lay the banquet table, For we will make a grand repast, Since Poet Frank has come at last.” Soon Moses came, likewise Elias, John the Baptist and his pal Matthias, With many saints from foreign lands, And with the Poet all shook hands, Thro’ Heaven’s concave curfew rang, And hymns of praise they loudly sang; And while they glorified their theme, I woke – and found it was a dream.