"Major Johnston to Lieutenant-Colonel Paterson. "HEADQUARTERS, SYDNEY, "9th March, 1804.

"Sir,—I beg leave to acquaint you that about half-past 1 o'clock on Monday morning last I took the command of the detachment marched from headquarters accompanied by Lieutenant Davies, consisting of two officers, two sergeants, and 52 rank and file of the New South Wales Corps, and, by His Excellency Governor King's orders, I proceeded immediately to Parramatta, where we arrived at the dawn of day. I halted at the barracks about 20 minutes to refresh my party, and then marched to Government House, and, agreeable to His Excellency's orders, divided my detachment, giving Lieutenant Davies the command of half and taking Quartermaster Laycock and the other half, with one trooper, myself, having the Governor's instructions to march in pursuit of the rebels, who, in number about 400, were on the summit of the hill. I immediately detached a corporal, [Sidenote: 1804] with four privates and about six inhabitants, armed with musquets, to take them in flank whilst I proceeded with the rest up the hill, when I found the rebels had marched on for the Hawkesbury, and after a pursuit of about ten miles I got sight of them. I immediately rode forward, attended by the trooper and Mr. Dixon, the Roman Catholic priest, calling to them to halt, that I wished to speak to them. They desired I would come into the middle of them, as their captains were there, which I refused, observing to them that I was within pistol-shot, and it was in their power to kill me, and that their captains must have very little spirit if they would not come forward to speak to me, upon which two persons advanced towards me as their leaders, to whom I represented the impropriety of their conduct, and advised them to surrender, and I would mention them in as favourable terms as possible to the Governor. C. replied they would have death or liberty. Quartermaster Laycock with the detachment just then appearing in sight, I clapped my pistol to J.'s head, whilst the trooper did the same to C.'s and drove them with their swords in their hands to the Quartermaster and the detachment, whom I ordered to advance and charge the main body of the rebels then formed in line. The detachment immediately commenced a well-directed fire, which was but weakly returned, for, the rebel line being soon broken, they ran in all directions. We pursued them a considerable way, and have no doubt but that many of them fell. We have found 12 killed, 6 wounded, and have taken 26 prisoners.

"Any encomiums I could pass on Quartermaster Laycock and the detachment I had the honour to command would fall far short of what their merit entitles them to, and I trust their steady perseverance, after a fatiguing march of upwards of 45 miles, to restore order and tranquillity will make their services acceptable. Return of arms taken from the rebels: 26 muskets, 4 bayonets on poles, 8 reaping-hooks, 2 swords, a fowling-piece, and a pistol."

The revolt seems to have been the result more than anything else of the number of political prisoners which at that time had been transported to the colony and the quantity of liquor available. Certainly King's government was not severe enough to provoke an outbreak. Sir Joseph Banks, writing to him, said:—

"There is only one part of your conduct as governor which I do not think right; that is your frequent reprieves. I would have justice in the case of those under your command who have already forfeited their lives, and been once admitted to a commutation of punishment, to be certain and inflexible, and no one case on record where mere mercy, which is a deceiving sentiment, should be permitted to move your mind from the inexorable decree of blind justice. Circumstances may often make pardon necessary—I mean those of suspected error in conviction; but mere whimpering soft-heartedness never should be heard."

Dr. Lang published his History of New South Wales in 1834; Judge Therry wrote a book of personal reminiscences dating from 1829. Both these writers describe things they knew, and relate stories told to them by men who had come out in the first fleet. Therry and Lang were as opposite as the poles: the first was an Irish barrister and a Roman Catholic; the second was a Scotchman and a Presbyterian minister. The two men are substantially in agreement in the pictures they draw of the colony's early governors and of life as it was in New South Wales down to the twenties.

Lang and Therry both relate anecdotes of King. The stories do not present him in a light to command respect; the official records rather confirm than contradict the stories. Governing a penal colony seems to have had an unhealthy influence upon the sailor governors; Phillip only escaped it.

King, Phillip's right hand, when a lieutenant, makes a voyage to England in fashion heroic; he commands Norfolk Island at a critical time, when no one but a man could have controlled its affairs; he is appointed to the supreme command in New South Wales, and before he has been many months in office becomes a laughing-stock.

It is due to the first governor's successors to remember that they had no force behind them. Phillip's marines were soldiers; the New South Wales Corps were dealers in rum, officers and men were duly licensed to sell it, and every ship that came into the harbour brought it. "In 1802, when I arrived, it was lamentable to behold the drunkenness. It was no uncommon occurrence for men to sit round a bucket of spirits and drink it with quart pots until they were unable to stir from the spot." Thus wrote a surgeon. "It was very provoking to see officers draw goods from the public store to traffic in them for their private gain, which goods were sent out for settlers, who were compelled to deal with the huckster officers, giving them from 50 to 500 per cent, profit and paying them in grain." Thus wrote Holt, the Irish rebel general.

These men are true witnesses, and the extracts among the mildest statements made by any contemporary writer. Yet, be it remembered, the colony was a penal settlement. The prison chronicles of England at this period are not a whit less disgraceful reading; the stone walls of Newgate, in the heart of London, hid scenes no less disgraceful than the stockades of Botany Bay.

But, though the naval governors controlled New South Wales before free emigration had leavened its population, and in consequence are remembered but as gaolers, they were something better than this: their pioneering work should not be forgotten.

During King's administration sea exploration was carried on vigorously (the work of Flinders and Bass will form the subject of the next chapter); settlements were made at Van Diemen's Land in place of Port Phillip, where an attempt to colonize was abandoned, to be successfully carried out later on; the important town of Newcastle was founded; the whale fisheries made a fair start; and several expeditions were conducted into the interior, always to be stopped by the Blue Mountains barrier. Above all, MacArthur, in spite of every discouragement, made a success of his wool-growing, resigned his commission, and returned to the colony, the first of the great pastoralists. King, to his credit, forgot his differences with MacArthur, and lent a willing hand to the colonist. The first newspaper, the Sydney Gazette, was published just before King left the colony, and free settlers began to come out in numbers.

The French expedition under Baudin called at Port Jackson to refresh, and certain matters in connection with their visit are worth telling. Two unfortunate incidents occurred: one an accusation against the French officers of selling on shore certain liquor King had given them permission to purchase from a merchantman for the use of their ships' companies; another incident was the manner of hoisting the English ensign on board one of the French ships, which was "dressed" for a holiday. Baudin explained these matters easily enough. The flag was wrongly hoisted by accident, and the accusation for selling liquor was unfounded, and certain officers of the New South Wales Corps who made the statements did not come out of the affair very creditably.



But the most noteworthy incident is explained in this extract from a letter dated Sydney, May 9th, 1803, from King to Sir Joseph Banks:—

"Whilst the French ships lay here I was on the most friendly footing with Mons'r Baudin and all his officers. Entre nous, he showed me and left with me his journals, in which were contained all his orders from the first idea of his voyage taking place, and also the whole of the drawings made on the voyage. His object was, by his orders, the collection of objects of natural history from this country at large and the geography of Van Diemen's Land. The south and south-west coast, as well as the north-west and north coast, were his particular objects. It does not appear by his orders that he was at all instructed to touch here, which I do not think he intended if not obliged by distress. With all this openness on his part, I could only have general ideas on the nature of their visit to Van Diemen's Land. I communicated it to Mons'r Baudin, who informed me that he knew of no idea that the French had of settling on any part or side of this continent. They had not been gone more than a few hours when a general report was circulated that it had been the conversation of the French officers that Mons'r Baudin had orders to fix on a place for a settlement at Van Diemen's Land, and that the French, on receiving his accounts, were to make an establishment at 'Baie du Nord,' which, you will observe, in D'Entrecasteaux's charts is what we call 'Storm Bay Passage,' and the French 'Canal D'Entrecasteaux.' It seemed one of the French officers had given Colonel Paterson a chart, and described the intended spot."

So King sent for the colonel, and then,

"without losing an instant, a colonial vessel was immediately equipped and provided with as many scientific people as I could put into her, and despatched after Mons'r Baudin. The instruction I gave the midshipman who commanded her was to examine Storm Bay Passage and leave His Majesty's colours flying there with a guard, and that it was my intention to send an establishment there by the Porpoise. This order, you will observe, was a blind, and as such was to be communicated to Mons'r Baudin, as my only object was to make him acquainted with the reports I had heard, and to assure him and his masters that the King's claim would not be so easily given up. The midshipman in the Cumberland had other private orders not to go to Storm Bay Passage, but to follow the French ships as far as King's Island, and that he was to make the pretext of an easterly wind forcing him into the straits, and as he was enjoined to survey King's Island and Port Phillip, that service he should perform before he went to Storm Bay Passage.

"This had the desired effect. He overtook Geographe and Naturaliste at King's Island the day the Naturaliste parted company with the Geographe on the former returning to France, and as an officer of the colony was going passenger in her, the mid. was instructed to give him privately a packet for the Admiralty and Lord Hobart, in which, I believe, was one for you. These letters contained the particulars. The mid. was received by Mons'r Baudin with much kindness. In the latter's answer to me he felt himself rather hurt at the idea that 'had such an intention on his part existed, that he should conceal it.' However, he put it on the most amicable footing, altho' the mid. planted His Majesty's colours close to their tents, and kept them flying during the time the French ships stayed there."

Notwithstanding their first little differences, King and Baudin parted the best of friends, and to an orphan asylum established by King in Sydney, Baudin sent a donation of L50; but King's action in sending the Cumberland after him struck the Frenchman in a different light. He wrote to King telling him that if he had wanted to annex Van Diemen's Land he would have made no secret of it, that Tasman anyhow had not discovered it for the benefit of Englishmen only, and that—

"I was well convinced that the arrival of the Cumberland had another motive than merely to bring your letter, but I did not think it was for the purpose of hoisting the British flag precisely on the spot where our tents had been pitched a long time previous to her arrival. I frankly confess that I am displeased that such has taken place. That childish ceremony was ridiculous, and has become more so from the manner in which the flag was placed, the head being downwards, and the attitude not very majestic. Having occasion to go on shore that day, I saw for myself what I am telling you. I thought at first it might have been a flag which had served to strain water and then hung out to dry; but seeing an armed man walking about, I was informed of the ceremony which had taken place that morning. I took great care in mentioning it to your captain, but your scientists, with whom he dined, joked about it, and Mr. Petit, of whose cleverness you are aware, made a complete caricature on the event. It is true that the flag sentry was sketched. I tore up the caricature as soon as I saw it, and gave instructions that such was not to be repeated in future."

Towards the latter end of 1803 King grew very tired of the petty annoyances of the officers of the New South Wales Corps, and he wrote home asking that either a commission should be appointed to inquire into the government of the colony, or that he should be permitted to go to England himself and report upon the state of affairs. With the letter he sent home copies of lampoons which he alleged were anonymously written and circulated by officers of the regiment. Here is a sample of one:—

EXTEMPORE ALLEGRO.

"My power to make great O'er the laws and the state Commander-in-Chief I'll assume; Local rank, I persist, Is in my own fist: To doubt it who dares to presume.

"On Monday keep shop, In two hours' time stop To relax from such kingly fatigue, To pillage the store And rob Government more Than a host of good thieves—by intrigue.

"For infamous acts from my birth I'd an itch, My fate I foretold but too sure; Tho' a rope I deserved, which is justly my due, I shall actually die in a ditch, And be damned."

By way of reply, Lord Hobart, then at the Home Office, informed King, that although the Government had the fullest appreciation of the good service he had done, yet the unfortunate differences between himself and the officers would best be ended by relieving him of his [Sidenote: 1805] command as soon as a successor could be chosen. The successor, in the person of Bligh, was chosen in July, 1805, and King a few months later returned to England.

In Hobart's letter to King informing him of the decision to recall him, the former refers not only to the unfortunate difference "between you and the military officers," but to the fact that these disputes "have extended to the commander of H.M.S. Glatton." Highly indignant, King replied to this in the following paragraph of a despatch dated August 14th, 1804:—

"In what relates to the commander of His Majesty's ship Glatton, had I, on his repeated demands, committed myself, by the most flagrant abuse of the authority delegated to me, by giving him a free pardon for a female convict for life, who had never landed from the Glatton, to enable her to cohabit with him on his passage home, I might, in that case, have avoided much of his insults here and his calumnious invective in England; but after refusing, as my bounden duty required, to comply to his unwarrantable demands, which, if granted, must have very justly drawn on me your lordship's censure and displeasure, with the merited reproach of those deserving objects to whom that last mark of His Majesty's mercy is so cautiously extended, from that period, my lord, the correspondence will evidently show no artifice or means on his part were unused to insult not only myself as governor of this colony, but the military and almost every other officer of the colony."

There is, of course, another side to this. Captain Colnett, of the Glatton, asked for the woman's pardon on the ground that she had supplied him with information which enabled him to anticipate a mutiny of the convicts on the passage out. On the return of the Glatton to England, the St. James Chronicle informs its readers that at a dinner at Walmer Castle Colnett dined with William Pitt. Perhaps over their wine the two discussed Governor King, and hence perhaps Hobart's letter of recall.

During King's period of office there were, besides the Irish rebels, many prisoners whose names are famous, or infamous, in story. Pickpocket George Barrington, who came out in Governor Phillip's time, once the Beau Brummel of his branch of rascality, had settled down into a respectable settler, and was in King's government, superintendent of convicts, at L50 a year wages. Sir Henry Browne Hayes, at one time sheriff of Cork city, was sent out for life in King's time for abducting a rich Quaker girl; he was pardoned, and returned to England in 1812, leaving behind him a fine residence which he had built for himself, and which [Sidenote: 1808] is still one of the beauty spots at the entrance of Sydney harbour.

Margarot, one of the "Scotch martyrs," also fell foul of King, who sent him to Hobart for seditious practices. The governor seems to have punished Scotch and Irish pretty impartially, for Hayes and Margarot were coupled together as disturbing characters and both sent away.

The "martyrs," it will perhaps be remembered, were Muir, Palmer, Skirving, Gerald, and Margarot, transported at Edinburgh for libelling the Government in August, 1793, and most harshly dealt with, as everyone nowadays admits.

King was a Cornishman, a native of Launceston. When he went home in 1790 he married a Miss Coombes, of Bedford. By this lady he had several children. The eldest of them, born at Norfolk Island in 1791, he named Phillip Parker, after his old chief. This youngster was sent into the navy to follow his father's footsteps, and in a later chapter of this book he will be heard of again.

The ex-governor wrote in September, 1808, a letter from Bath.

"As this letter may probably reach you before you sail, I just write to say that I came here on Tuesday with Mr. Etheridge, on his return to London, merely to see Admiral Phillip, whom I found much better than I possibly could expect from the reports I had heard, although he is quite a cripple, having lost the entire use of his right side, though his intellects are very good, and his spirits are as they always were."

This letter was to the boy Phillip, then a year-old sailor, on the eve of his departure on a cruise in the Channel. Seven days later the writer had slipped his moorings, and years earlier than his old comrade had "gone before to that unknown and silent shore."



CHAPTER VIII.

BASS AND FLINDERS

The details of Australian sea exploration are beyond the scope of this work, but in a future chapter some reference will be made to the marvellous quantity and splendid quality of naval surveying in Australian waters.

The story of Flinders and Bass, of the work they performed, and the strange, sad ending to their lives is worth a book, much more the small space we can devote to it. Much has been written about these two men, but the best work on the subject, that written by Flinders himself, has now become a rare book, to be found only in a few public libraries, and too expensive for any but well-to-do book-lovers to have upon their shelves. The printing in New South Wales by the local Government of the records of the colony has led to the discovery of a quantity of interesting material never before published, and in this there is much relating to Flinders and Bass—so much, in fact, that the work of the two men could be described from contemporary letters and despatches, material, if not new to everyone, certainly known to very few.

The dry technicalities of the surveying work, interesting enough to the people of those places on the coasts of Australia which are now flourishing seaports, but where not a century ago Bass and Flinders landed for the first time, are too local in their interests to warrant more than a passing reference here. The bold explorers met with so many stirring adventures that the present writers can only "reel off the yarn," and let lovers of topography go, if they are so inclined, to the charts, and study how much valuable map-making, as well as exciting incident, these young men crowded into their lives.

When Hunter returned to New South Wales in the Reliance to take office as governor, he brought with him Matthew Flinders as second lieutenant; and to Sir Joseph Banks, whose influence secured the appointment, this is only one of the many debts of gratitude owed by New South Wales for his foresight and honesty in making such selections. Flinders was then twenty-one years of age. His father was a surgeon at Donington, a village in Lincolnshire.

. To face p. 168.]

Robinson Crusoe, so he himself tells us, sent him to sea, and his departure from home was soon followed by that of his brother Samuel. Matthew served first in the Scipio under Pasley; then he accompanied Bligh in the Providence to Tahiti, and thence to the West Indies (this was Bligh's successful bread-fruit voyage); then he was in the Bellerophon, and was present at Lord Howe's victory, "the glorious 1st of June." Two months later he left in the Reliance for Sydney.

The surgeon of the Reliance was George Bass. From his boyhood Bass wanted to be a sailor, but was apprenticed, sorely against his will, to a Boston apothecary. His father was a farmer at Sleaford, in Lincolnshire; but his mother was early left a widow. The lad served his apprenticeship, duly walked the hospitals, and his mother spent most of her small substance in starting him in business as a village apothecary in his native county. Then, like so many before and since his time, unable to overcome his first infatuation, he threw all his shore affairs to the wind and obtained an appointment to the Reliance.

Governor Hunter, it will be remembered, took a keen interest in the exploration of Australia, and he had for some time suspected the existence of a strait between Van Diemen's Land and the main continent. Full of desire for adventure and tired of the routine life of a penal settlement, Flinders and Bass, soon after they landed in the colony, found a new occupation in the pursuit of fresh discoveries, and Hunter willingly lent them such poor equipment as the limited resources of the colony afforded.

A month after the arrival of the Reliance at Sydney the two friends set to work, and in an eight-foot boat, which they appropriately named the Tom Thumb, went poking in and out along the coast-line, making discoveries of the greatest local value. Then began work destined to be of world-wide importance.

Take the map of Tasmania and look at a group of islands at its north-east corner; they are in what was later on to be called Bass' Straits. Among them are two named Preservation and Clarke Islands; these and Armstrong Channel commemorate the wreck of the Sydney Cove, which occurred on February 9th, 1797. The Sydney Cove was an East Indiaman bound from Bengal to Sydney; she sprang a leak, was with difficulty navigated to the spot named Preservation Island, and there beached.

[Sidenote: To face p. 170.]

The crew, many of whom were Lascars, were saved, with a few stores. Then the long-boat, with the mate, supercargo, three European seamen, and a dozen Lascars, was despatched in an endeavour to reach Port Jackson, the only occupied part of the great continent, and bring succour to their starving shipmates. They set out on the 28th February, were driven ashore; their boat was battered to pieces on the rocks, and they escaped only with their lives. This happened on the 1st of March, the scene of this second misfortune being a little distance to the north of Cape Howe, 300 miles from Sydney. These castaways were the first white men to land in what is now the colony of Victoria. (The spot where the boat was lost is just over the border.) After resting the men then all set out to march along the coast to Sydney.

Sixty days later three exhausted creatures reached Wattamolla harbour, near what is now the National Park of New South Wales, about 18 miles south of Sydney. The remainder of the castaways had dropped and died of exhaustion on the march, or had been speared by the blacks. Those who survived had purchased their lives from the savages with shreds of cloth and buttons from their ragged clothing, and had kept themselves alive with such shell-fish as they could find upon the beaches. At Wattamolla they had halted to cook a scanty meal of shell-fish, and the smoke of their fire revealed their presence to a fishing boat from the settlement at Port Jackson. The fire by which this cooking was done was made from coal found on the beach there; so reported brave Clarke, the supercargo of the Sydney Cove, who found it.

As soon as Hunter heard of the discovery he determined to examine the place. In a despatch home he says:—

"So I have lately sent a boat to that part of the coast, in which went Mr. Bass, surgeon of the Reliance. He was fortunate in discovering the place, and informed me he found a stratum six feet deep in the face of a steep cliff, which was traced for eight miles in length; but this was not the only coal they discovered, for it was seen in various places."

The place was named Coalcliff, and this was the first discovery of the great southern coalfields of New South Wales. Hunter, writing to the Duke of Portland under date of March 1st, 1798, shall tell the next incident of Bass' career:—

"The tedious repairs which His Majesty's ship [Sidenote: 1798] Reliance necessarily required before she could be put in a condition for again going to sea having given an opportunity to Mr. George Bass, her surgeon, a young man of a well-informed mind and an active disposition, to offer himself to be employed in any way in which he could contribute to the benefit of the public service, I inquired of him in what way he was desirious of exerting himself, and he informed me nothing could gratify him more effectually than my allowing him the use of a good boat and permitting him to man her with volunteers from the King's ships. I accordingly furnished him with an excellent whale-boat, well fitted, victualled, and manned to his wish, for the purpose of examining along the coast to the southward of this port, as far as he could with safety and convenience go. His perseverance against adverse winds and almost incessant bad weather led him as far south as the latitude of 40 deg.00 S., or a distance from this port, taking the bendings of the coast, of more than 600 miles." (This, remember, was accomplished in a whale-boat.) "He coasted the greatest part of the way, and sedulously examined every inlet along the shore, which does not in these parts afford a single harbour fit to admit even a small vessel, except a bay in latitude 35 deg.06, called Jarvis' Bay, and which was so named by one of the transport ships, bound here, who entered it, and is the same called by Captain Cook Longnose Bay. He explored every accessible place until he came as far as the sourthermost [sic: southernmost] parts of this coast seen by Captain Cook, and from thence until he reached the northernmost land seen by Captain Furneaux, beyond which he went westward about 60 miles, where the coast falls away in a west-northwest direction. Here he found an open ocean westward, and by the mountainous sea which rolled in from that quarter, and no land discoverable in that direction, we have much reason to conclude that there is an open strait through, between the latitude of 39 and 40'12 S., a circumstance which, from many observations made upon tides and currents thereabouts, I had long conjectured.

"It will appear by this discovery that the northermost [sic: northernmost] land seen by Captain Furneaux is the southernmost extremity of this coast, and lays in latitude 39.00 S. At the western extremity of Mr. Bass' coasting voyage he found a very good harbour; but, unfortunately, the want of provision induced him to return sooner than he wished and intended, and on passing a small island laying off the coast he discovered a smoke, and supposed it to have been made by some natives, with whom he wished to have an opportunity of conversing. On approaching the shore he found the men were white, and had some clothing on, and when he came near he observed two of them take to the water and swim off. They proved to be seven of a gang of fourteen convicts who escaped from hence in a boat on the 2nd of October last, and who had been treacherously left on this desolate island by the other seven, who returned northward. The boat, it seems, was too small for their whole number, and when they arrived at Broken Bay they boarded another boat [lying] in the Hawkesbury with fifty-six bushels of wheat on board; then they went off with her to the northward, leaving their old boat on shore.

"These poor distressed wretches" (the seven convicts discovered by Bass), "who were chiefly Irish, would have endeavoured to travel northward and thrown themselves upon His Majesty's mercy, but were not able to get from this miserable island to the mainland. Mr. Bass' boat was too small to accommodate them with a passage, and, as his provision was nearly expended, he could only help them to the mainland, where he furnished them with a musket and ammunition and a pocket compass, with lines and fish-hooks. Two of the seven were very ill, and those he took into his boat, and shared his provisions with the other five, giving them the best directions in his power how to proceed, the distance" (to Sydney) "being not less than five hundred miles. He recommended them to keep along the coast the better to enable them to get food. Indeed, the difficulties of the country and the possibility of meeting hostile natives are considerations which will occasion doubts of their ever being able to reach us.

"When they parted with Mr. Bass and his crew, who gave them what cloaths they could spare, some tears were shed on both sides. The whale-boat arrived in this port after an absence of twelve weeks, and Mr. Bass delivered to me his observations on this adventur'g expedition. I find he made several excursions into the interior of the country wherever he had an opportunity. It will be sufficient to say that he found in general a barren, unpromising country, with very few exceptions; and, were it even better, the want of harbours would render it less valuable.

"Whilst this whale-boat was absent I had occasion to send the colonial schooner to the southward to take on board the remaining property saved from the wreck of the ship Sydney Cove, and to take the crew from the island she had been cast upon. I sent in the schooner Lieutenant Flinders, of the Reliance (a young man well qualified), in order to give him an opportunity of making what observations he could amongst those islands; and the discoverys which was made there by him and Mr. Hamilton, the master of the wrecked ship, shall be annexed to those of Mr. Bass in one chart and forwarded to your Grace herewith, by which I presume it will appear that the land called Van Dieman's, and generally supposed to be the southern promontory of this country, is a group of islands separated from its southern coast by a strait, which it is probable may not be of narrow limits, but may perhaps be divided into two or more channels by the islands near that on which the ship Sydney Cove was wrecked."

The exploring cruise in a whale-boat had lasted from December 3rd, 1797, to February 25th, 1798, and we have before us a log kept by Bass of the voyage. Bass describes in detail all that Hunter tells in his despatch, but the intrepid explorer scarcely mentions the hardships and dangers with which he met. Incidentally he tells how the boat leaked, what heavy seas were often successfully encountered, and how "we collected and salted for food on our homeward voyage stormy petrels" and like luxuries.

Flinders meanwhile, as Hunter says in his despatch, had been sent in the colonial schooner Francis to bring back the castaways [Sidenote: 1799] from the Sydney Cove, who remained anxiously waiting for succour on Preservation Island. On the way down the young lieutenant discovered and named many islands and headlands—the Kent group, the Furneaux group, and Green Cape are only a few names, to wit—and he came back fully convinced that the set of the tide west "indicated a deep inlet or passage through the Indian Ocean." He had no time on this trip to make surveys, but on his return to Sydney he found that George Bass had just come in in his whale-boat with his report. Hunter and the two young men agreed that the existence of the strait was certain, and that the next thing to do was to sail through it.

The colonial sloop Norfolk, built at Norfolk Island, a few months before, to carry despatches, was selected for the service. She was very small, only 25 tons burden. Flinders was given the command, and Bass was sent with him. The sloop was accompanied by a snow called the Nautilus, which was bound to the Furneaux group on a sealing expedition. The voyage lasted from October 7th, 1798, till January 12th, 1799, and in that period the explorers circumnavigated Van Diemen's Land, making so many discoveries and naming so many places, that a mere mention of them would fill a chapter. At the end of his log, Flinders tells us that on arrival at Port Jackson—

"to the strait which had now been the great object of research, and whose discovery was now completed, Governor Hunter, at my recommendation, gave the name of Bass' Straits. This was no more than a just tribute to my worthy friend and companion for the extensive dangers and fatigues he had undergone in first entering it in the whale-boat, and to the correct judgment he had formed from various indications of the existence of a wide opening between Van Dieman's Land and New South Wales."

Six months later the Norfolk, with Flinders on board, sailed along the north coast, making many discoveries, but missing the important rivers. Then he returned to England in the Reliance. His tried comrade and friend, Bass, had already left the colony when the Norfolk entered Sydney Heads, and his after-adventures and still mysterious fate, so far as can be conjectured, are told in what follows.

A company was floated in England to carry stores to Port Jackson on the outward trip, and load for return at the islands in the Pacific or such ports as could be entered on the South American coast. A ship called the Venus was purchased for the purpose, and Bass and his father-in-law (he had just married) and their relations held the principal shares in her. The ship was under the command of one Charles Bishop; but Bass sailed in her as managing owner and supercargo.

The Venus arrived safely at Sydney, and Bass made a contract with the authorities to bring a cargo of pork from Tahiti. On his return from this voyage another contract was concluded between him and Governor King to continue in this trade. Meanwhile Bishop, the master of the vessel, had fallen ill, and Bass took command; and the following letter, dated Sydney, February 3rd, 1803, and written to Captain Waterhouse, his brother-in-law, in England, was the last news his friends ever heard from Bass:—

"I have written to you thrice since my arrival from the South Sea Islands. In a few hours I shall sail again on another pork voyage, but it combines circumstances of a different nature also.

"From this place I go to New Zealand to pick up something more from the wreck of the old Endeavour in Dusky Bay, then visit some of the islands lying south of it in search of seals and fish. The former, should they be found, are intended to furnish a cargo to England immediately on my return from this trip; the fish are to answer a proposal I have made to Government to establish a fishery, on condition of receiving an exclusive privilege of the south part of New Zealand and of its neighbouring isles, which privilege is at once to be granted to me. The fishery is not to be set in motion till my return to old England, when I mean to seize upon my dear Bess, bring her out here, and make a poissarde of her, where she cannot fail to find plenty of use for her tongue.

"We have, I assure you, great plans in our heads; but, like the basket of eggs, all depends upon the success of the voyage I am now upon.

"In the course of it I intend to visit the coast of Chili in search of provisions for the use of His Brit. Majesty's colony; and, that they may not in that part of the world mistake me for a contrabandist, I go provided with a very diplomatic-looking certificate from the governor here, stating the service upon which I am employed, requesting aid and protection in obtaining the food wanted. And God grant you may fully succeed, says your warm heart, in so benevolent an object; and thus also say I. Amen, say many others of my friends.... Speak not of So. America, where you may hear I am digging gold, to anyone out of your family, for there is treason in the very name.... Pleasing prospects surround us, which time must give into our hands. There are apparent openings for good doings, none of which are likely to be tried for till after my return and dissolution of partnership with Bishop, a point fully fixed upon. With kind love to Mrs. W. and all your family, I am, even at this distance and at this length of time, and under all my sad labours, as much as when I saw you."

At this time Bass was a young man of thirty-four, [Sidenote: 1817] "six feet high, dark complexion, wears spectacles, very penetrating countenance," says his father-in-law. Nothing more was heard of the Venus or her crew until there arose a rumour that the ship had been taken by the Spaniards on the coast of Peru. A Captain Campbell, master of the Harrington, is alleged to have made the statement that a Spanish gentleman told him that Bass had been seized when landing from his boat and carried to the mines, and that the ship was afterwards taken and the crew sent to share the fate of their chief. The cause of this seizure was, says one unauthenticated account, because Bass requested permission to trade, was refused, and then threatened to bombard the town.

Lieutenant Fitzmaurice was at Valparaiso in 1803, and he states that all British prisoners in Chili and Peru had been released, and that he had heard of Mr. Bass being in Lima five or six years before. A letter in the Record Office, London, dated Liverpool, New South Wales, December 15th, 1817, says:—

"I have just heard a report that Mr. Bass is alive yet in South America. A capt'n of a vessel belonging to this port, trading among the islands to the east, fell in with a whaler, and the capt'n informed him he had seen such a person, and described the person of Mr. Bass. The capt'n, knowing Mr. Bass well, is of a belief that, [from] the description that the master of the whaler gives of him, it's certainly Mr. Bass, being a doctor, too, which is still a stronger reason.

I am, etc., THOS. MOORE."

And so in this sad fashion, his fate a mystery, perhaps the victim of savages on some lonely Pacific island, perhaps dragging his life out a broken-hearted prisoner in the mines of Peru, the gallant young explorer passes out of history.

When Flinders returned to England he found an enthusiastic admirer and a powerful friend in Sir Joseph Banks. The young lieutenant was getting ready for publication a small book describing the circumnavigation of Van Diemen's Land, and while he was doing this Banks induced the Admiralty to prepare H.M.S. Investigator for surveying service in Australian waters and give Flinders charge of her, with the rank of commander. Banks had everything to do with the arrangements for the expedition; and how much was thought of his capacity for this work is shown by a memo from the Secretary to the Admiralty in reply to a request [Sidenote: 1800] from the naturalist:—

"Any proposal you may make will be approved; the whole is left entirely to your decision."

The Investigator, formerly the Xenophon, was a sloop of war, and was fitted out in a most elaborate fashion for the cruise, carrying with her an artist (Westall), a botanist (Brown), an astronomer (Crossley), and several other scientists.

Among her officers were Samuel Flinders, second lieutenant and brother of Matthew, and a midshipman named John Franklin, afterwards Sir John Franklin, the Arctic explorer and at one time governor of Tasmania. Her total complement numbered 83 hands. The Lady Nelson, a colonial government brig, was ordered, on the arrival of the Investigator at Port Jackson, to join the expedition and act as tender to the larger vessel, and her history is scarcely less remarkable than that of the little vessel Norfolk, Flinders' old command, which by this time had been run away with by convicts, and "piled up" on a beach near Newcastle, New South Wales.

The Investigator sailed, and Flinders made Cape Leeuwin on September 7th, 1801. He ran along the south and east coasts, met the Baudin expedition in Encounter Bay, and entered Port Phillip on April 26th, 1802, and found that the Lady Nelson had preceded him in the February before. Arriving in Sydney in May, he sailed again a couple of months later to the northward, surveying the Great Barrier Reef, Torres Straits, the Gulf of Carpentaria, and the coast of Arnhem's Land. By this time the ship was too unseaworthy to prosecute further work, so Flinders sailed round the entire continent by way of the Leeuwin, and finally arrived in Sydney harbour again in June, 1803.

In these voyages he performed exploring work that is now a part of English history, and his charts of the Australian coasts were the foundation of all others that have since been made. He either first used the name of Australia or adapted it to the great continent, and New Holland, after the publication of his charts, began to be a name of the past.

Most of the remainder of this story can best be told in the words of Flinders and from the narratives of his officers.

The long and rough voyage of the Investigator had shaken her poor old carcase terribly, as the following summary of [Sidenote: 1805] an examination by the captains of the men-of-war then in Sydney Harbour and others will show:—

"On the port side out of ninety-eight timbers, eleven were sound, and sixty-three were uncertain if strained a little; on the starboard five out of eighty-nine timbers were good, fifty-six were uncertain, and twenty-eight rotten; the planking about the bows and amidships was so soft that a stick could be poked through it."

Considering all these defects it was not worth while to keep her, so she was converted into a hulk in Sydney Harbour. But later on it was found that by cutting her down it might be possible to navigate her to England. This was done, and the old ship sailed from Sydney on May 24th, 1805, under the command of Captain Kent, who managed with the greatest difficulty to reach Liverpool on the 14th of October following. In his despatch announcing her arrival he says:—

"A more deplorable, crazy vessel than the Investigator is, perhaps, not to be seen. Her maintopmast is reefed a third down; we have been long without topgallantmasts, being necessitated to take the topgallant rigging for running gear."

And Governor King, anxious to do Flinders justice, says:—"I hope no carping cur will cast any reflection on him respecting the Investigator ... should it be so it will be an act of great injustice," and then he alludes to the thoroughly rotten condition of the ship. He was quick, too, to recognize the immense value of the work accomplished by Flinders, and made him every offer of help that lay within his power to continue the survey.

There were not more than half a dozen vessels in the colony, but Flinders could have any one of them he liked, but they were all too small and unfit for such a severe service. At last it was decided that he should return home as a passenger in the Porpoise; some of his fellow-workers on the Investigator accompanied him, others went to the East Indies, and one or two stayed behind. It was with a feeling of intense satisfaction that Flinders took possession of his comfortable cabin on the Porpoise, for he was looking forward to an agreeable rest after the hardships he had undergone. The quarter-deck was taken up by a greenhouse protecting the plants collected on the Investigator's voyage, and designed for the King's garden at Kew.

Early in August, accompanied by two returning transports, the Cato and Bridgewater, the Porpoise, under Lieutenant Fowler, sailed out of Sydney Harbour, and steered a northerly course along the coast, closely followed by the other two ships. With Flinders on board to consult, Fowler had no fear of the dangers of the Barrier Reef, and with a lusty south-east breeze, and a sky of cloudless blue, the three ships pressed steadily northward. Four days later they arrived at a spot about 730 miles north of Sydney, just abreast of what is now Port Bowen, on the Queensland coast.

It was the second dog-watch, the evening was clear, and the three ships were slipping slowly over the undulating Pacific swell. Flinders was below chatting to his friends about old times, and the officers were having a quiet smoke, when a cry of "Breakers ahead!" from both the quarterdeck and forecastle rang out in the quiet night. The helm was put down, but the vessel had not enough way on, and scarce brought up to the wind. Flinders, for the moment thinking he was on board the old Investigator again, turned to the officer near him and said with a quiet smile: "At her old tricks again; she wants as much tiller rope as a young wife."

A few minutes later he rose and went on deck to look around. The cry of "Breakers ahead!" had nothing alarming in it to him, so he had not hurried; but one quick glance showed him that the ship was doomed, for the breakers were not a quarter of a cable's-length away, and the inset of the swell was rapidly hurrying the ship to destruction. Two minutes later a mountain sea lifted the Porpoise high, and took her among the roaring surf. In another moment she struck the coral reef with a thud that shook her timbers from keel to bulwarks; then the ship fell over on her beam ends in the savage turmoil, her deck facing inshore. So sudden was the catastrophe that no one could fire a gun for help or for warning to the other ships, which were following closely. As the ship rolled over on her beam ends, huge, thundering seas leapt upon and smothered her, and the darkness of the night was accentuated by the white foam and spume of the leaping surf. In a few moments the foremast went, the bottom was stove in, and all hope was abandoned; and then during a momentary lull in the crashing breakers they saw the Cato and Bridgewater running directly down upon the Porpoise. For some seconds a breathless, horror-struck silence reigned; then a shout arose as the two transports shaved by the stricken ship and were apparently saved.

But their rejoicing was premature, for a minute or two later the Cato struck upon an outlying spur of the reef, not a cable-length away. Like the Porpoise, she at once fell over on her side, but with her deck facing the sweeping rollers, and each succeeding wave spun her round and round like a top and swept her fore and aft. The Bridgewater escaped, and a light air enabled her to stand to the north out of danger.

Flinders at once took command on the Porpoise, a small gig was lowered to leeward, and with half a dozen men, two odd, short oars, and shoes and hats for balers, he set out to struggle through the breakers to a calm ring of water beyond, where they might find a sandbank to land upon, or get within hailing distance of the Bridgewater. Meanwhile Fowler was thinking of lightening the Porpoise and letting her drive further up on the reef; but fear was expressed that she might be carried over its inside edge, and founder in 17 fathoms of water. The two cutters were launched, and stood by under the lee of the ship throughout the long, weary night in case she broke up. At intervals of half an hour, blue lights flared over the dismal scene, and lit up the strained, white faces of those watching for the lights of the ship that was safe, and which, either not seeing or not heeding their distress, had disappeared from view.

During the night the wind blew high and chill, the sea increased in fury, and the ship groaned and shuddered at each fresh onslaught. Fowler, however, was hard at work constructing a raft, ready for launching at dawn, and his men, exhausted as they were, bore themselves as do most British seamen in the hour of death and danger.

Flinders meanwhile had succeeded in reaching the lagoon within the reef, and he and his men jumped out of the boat, and walked to and fro in the shallow water to keep themselves warm and out of the wind; but they sought in vain to discern the lights of the Bridgewater. But the Bridgewater had sailed on to meet another fate. She reached India safely, then left again for England, and was never afterwards heard of. It is difficult to understand how her people could have avoided seeing the others' distress; it is harder still to believe that, seeing their plight, the Bridgewater's company could have thus deserted the castaways. Of course, this explanation would have been demanded, but the Bridgewater was an "overdue" ship long before the news of the disaster arrived in England.

As the sun rose, the scene looked less hopeless, and the men found that they were near a small sandbank, on which were a quantity of seabirds' eggs. Close by were the Porpoise and Cato still holding together on the reef. Returning to the former ship, Flinders at once sent a boat to rescue the exhausted crew of the Cato, who flung themselves into the waves, and were picked up safely.

Then all hands from both wrecks—marvellous to say, only three men were lost during the night—set to work under his directions, and collected all the food and clothing they could possibly obtain. With the warmth of the sun their spirits returned, and the brave fellows took matters merrily enough, many of them decking themselves out in the officers' uniforms, for their own clothing could not be reached. A landing was soon effected, and a topsail yard was set up as a flagstaff, with the blue ensign upside down, though but little hope was entertained of passing vessels in such a place. In all there were 94 people under Flinders' care, and they made themselves comfortable in sailcloth tents on the barren sand spit. Enough food had been saved from the Porpoise to last for three months; but to Flinders' grief many of the papers, charts, and pictures dealing with his explorations were sadly damaged. Among the articles saved was a picture of Government House, Sydney, in 1802, and this and some others are now in the possession of the Royal Colonial Institute, London.

The bank upon which the castaways lived was only 150 fathoms long by 50 broad, and about 3 feet above water. Whilst looking for firewood some of Flinders' men found an old stern-post of a ship of about 400 tons, which he imagined might have belonged to one of the ships of the La Perouse expedition.

Wearily enough the time passed, and then Flinders determined to attempt to reach Sydney in one of the ship's boats. He chose a six-oared cutter, and raised her sides with such odd timber as he could find. She was christened The Hope, and on the 26th August he with the commander of the Cato, 12 seamen, and three weeks' provisions, bade farewell to their comrades, and with a cheer, set out with bold hearts upon their voyage.

. To face p. 192.]

The Hope reached Sydney safely on the 8th September, and Flinders and his companions went straight to Government House, where King was having dinner. The Governor leapt from his chair with astonishment, almost taking them for spectres, so half starved and distressing was their appearance.

"But," says Flinders, "as soon as he was convinced of the truth of the vision, and learned the melancholy cause, a tear started from the eye of friendship and compassion, and we were received in the most affectionate manner."

Alas for poor Flinders! There were yet in store for him worse miseries, and tears of sorrow from those nearer and dearer to him were yet to flow in abundance in the many weary years of waiting yet to come.



CHAPTER IX.

THE CAPTIVITY OF FLINDERS

In Governor King, Flinders had a firm friend, and one who sympathized deeply with his misfortune, as was soon evinced. But the first thing to be done was to rescue the castaways on Wreck Reef, as Flinders had named the scene of the disaster, and the master of the ship Rolla, bound to China, was engaged by King to call at the reef with provisions and convey to Canton all those of the ships' companies who preferred going to that port; and the Francis, a schooner of 40 tons, sent in frame from England in 1792, was to accompany the Rolla and bring back those of the shipwrecked men who chose to return to Port Jackson.

But for Flinders himself King did more: he offered him the use of a small vessel to sail to England to convey home the charts and journals of the Investigator voyage. The vessel was named the Cumberland; she was only 29 tons, and had been built in Sydney, but Flinders was satisfied that she was capable of performing the voyage; and both he and King, being men of action, decided that she should sail, in company with the Francis and Rolla, to the scene of the wreck, where Flinders was to select officers and men to man her for the voyage to England, a temporary crew being given him for the run down to the reef. King told Flinders to choose his own route for the voyage home, to sell the little vessel at the Cape or elsewhere if he thought fit, and engage another to continue the voyage, and, in fact, gave his friend a free hand.

The Australian press of the day consisted of the Sydney Gazette, then in its first year of existence, and sometimes printed on odd scraps of wrapping paper by reason of the shortness of other material, and this paper, speaking of the Cumberland, says, "She is a very good sea-boat, and in every way capable of carrying enough water and provisions for Captain Flinders and the officers and nine men who are appointed to navigate the first vessel built in the colony to England."

Nevertheless there were many naval men who thought the venture dangerous in the extreme, and sought to dissuade Flinders from undertaking it. But his was no timorous nature—"a small craft, 'tis true," he said laughingly, "but mine own."

With all papers necessary to prove his identity and his dearly-loved journals and charts on board, Flinders bade farewell to his trusty friend King, and on September 21st, 1803, the three vessels, the lumbering Rolla and the two midgets of schooners, put to sea. Before midnight, just after leaving Port Jackson, the three ships were flying before a south-easterly gale, and the Cumberland was reduced to a close-reefed mainsail and jib, and she was so exceedingly crank that Flinders considered it was not safe to run her even in a double-reefed topsail breeze. Then, in spite of her recent repairs, she leaked like a basket, and after an hour and a half's cessation from pumping the water was awash on the cabin floor. But nevertheless she was more weatherly than either the Rolla or Francis, for in working to windward at night-time Flinders would have to run down four miles or so in the morning to join them, although they carried all the sail they possibly could.

A fortnight later they arrived at Wreck Reef, and when Flinders sent King an account of the trip down, he gave the Governor some idea of the discomforts experienced. He wrote in a humorous vein:—

"Of all the filthy little things I ever saw, this schooner, for bugs, lice, fleas, weevils, mosquitos, cockroaches, large and small, and mice, rises superior to them all.... I have never stripped myself before the last two nights, but usually slept upon the lee locker with my clothes on.... I believe that I, as well as my clothes, must undergo a good boiling in the large kettle."

In the evening of the 7th October the three vessels anchored under the lee of Wreck Island, to the great joy of its tenants, and as soon as Flinders landed on the bank they gave him three cheers and fired a salute from the carronades saved from the wreck. The Porpoise still held together, and the castaways had, during Flinders' absence, built a boat of 20 tons, which they had rigged as a schooner and named the Resource, and on that very day some of them were out sailing her on her trial trip. This little vessel Flinders sent to King as some compensation for the Cumberland.

As soon as possible the shipwrecked men embarked, some on the Rolla for China, the rest on the Francis and Resource for Sydney; then Flinders said good-bye and sailed northward for Timor, where he arrived thirty days later. Here he wrote again to King; then came another letter dated from the Mauritius, August 8th, 1804:—

"Thus far, my dear sir, I had written to you from Coupang, in case of meeting a ship by which it might have been sent, little expecting that I should have finished it here, and in a prison.

"We found the upper works of the schooner constantly leaky, and the pumps became so much worn by constant use as to be rendered unserviceable, and made it absolutely necessary to put in at this island to get the schooner caulked and the pumps refitted before attempting the passage round the Cape of Good Hope. I also considered that, in case of a new war, I had no passports from the Dutch, as well as that by putting in here I should be able to ascertain how far the French settlements in this neighbourhood might answer your purpose of supplying Port Jackson with cattle. Having no chart or instructions relating to Mauritius, I came round the south end of the island, and followed a small vessel that I wanted to speak into a little harbour there" (Baye du Cap), "and, to my surprise, found that the French were again at war with our nation. After being detained one day I got a pilot, and came round to Port N.W." (Port Louis) "on December 16th last. I waited upon the captain-general, and, after being kept two hours in the street, had an audience, but it was to be told that I was an imposter, the improbability of Captain Flinders coming in so small a vessel being thought so great as to discredit my passport and commission. Finally, Mr. Atkin, formerly master of the Investigator, and me were brought ashore as prisoners at 2 o'clock in the morning, all my books and papers were taken away, and a sentinel with fix't bayonet was placed in the room where we lodged. After undergoing an examination next day, I thought circumstances were going in my favour, but in three days an order was issued to put my seamen on board the prison-ship, the vessel's stores in the arsenal, and the schooner to be laid up. As for Mr. Atkin and me, we continued in the house of our confinement, but with this difference, that the sentinal was placed without side of our room, and I was permitted to have my servant, and afterwards obtained my printed books and some unfinished charts upon which to employ myself.



"I expostulated with General de Caen upon this uncommon and very harsh treatment, but could obtain no satisfaction or public information than that I had deviated from the voyage for which the passport had been granted by touching at the Isle of France, and that my uncommon voyage from Port Jackson to this place was more calculated for the particular interests of Great Britain than for those of my voyage of discovery. In fine, I was considered and treated as a spy, and given to understand that my letters gave great offence.

"I became very ill in this confinement, the scurvy breaking out in my legs and feet. A surgeon was sent to attend me, but altho' he represented the necessity of taking exercise, yet was I not permitted to take a walk outside in the air for near four months, or was any person allowed to speak to me without the general's permission. Through the intercession of the excellent Captain Bergeret, of the French navy, I was removed to the house where the English officers, prisoners of war, were confined. This house is situated a little without the town, enjoys a pure air, and is surrounded by a wall enclosing about two acres of ground. In this place Mr. Atkin and me soon recovered our health, and here we have remained to this day. Thro' my friend Bergeret, I have lately obtained the greatest part of my books and charts, and therefore am assiduously employed in repairing the ravages that were made amongst them by the Porpoise's shipwreck, and in making others to complete the hydrographical account of my voyage. Admiral Linois, as well as Bergeret and another naval captain, interested themselves that I might be sent to France, but it was positively refused, upon the principle that I must wait until orders were received concerning me from the French Government; and an application to be sent into the interior part of the island, where we might enjoy good exercise and some society, was no more successful.

"This account will not a little surprise you, my dear sir, who have so lately shown every attention to the Geographe and Naturaliste; but a military tyrant knows no law or principle but what appears to him for the immediate interest of his Government or the gratification of his own private caprices. Passports, reciprocal kindness, and national faith are baits to catch children and fools with, and none but such consider the propriety of the means by which the plans are to be put into execution. Men of genius, heroes (that is, modern French generals), are above those weaknesses. I can give you no further explanation of General de Caen's conduct except that he sent me word I was not considered to be a prisoner of war, and also that it was not any part of my own conduct that had occasioned my confinement.

"What I am suffering in promotion, peace of mind, fortune, fame, and everything that man holds dear, it is not my intention to detail, or have I room; but when added to shipwreck and its subsequent risks, they make no very common portion of suffering. How much I deserve all this may be left to your friendly judgement to decide. It is impossible for me to guess how long I am to be kept here, since the French despatches, as well as the letters I have been permitted to write, will probably be thrown overboard on the ship meeting with our cruisers. However, I think my foe begins to be touched with some remorse of conscience. We have accounts by Admiral Linois of the China fleet having lately passed, and in it my officers and people, who, I hope, are before this time in England. Having a private opportunity of sending a letter to India, I commit this to the care of Mr. Campbell for you; and may you, my kind friend, and yours never feel to know the unlimited power of a man before whom innocence and hardship are of no avail to save from his severity."

In Flinders' book we are told that the explorer, when ordered by petty officials to remain in Baye du Cap with the Cumberland until General de Caen's pleasure was known, said: "I will do nothing of the kind; I am going to Port Louis overland, and I shall take my commission, passport, and papers to General de Caen myself." The officers were a little crestfallen, but the Englishman's short, precise, active manner left nothing to be said, so he went on shore in his simple, severe, threadbare, brine-stained coat, as though Matthew Flinders, of the Cumberland, 29 tons, His Majesty's exploring vessel, was fully the equal of any hectoring French governor-general.

While waiting in an ante-room to see the governor, some French military officers came in, and began to talk to the Englishman, asking him, among other things, if he had ever come across "M. Flinedare, who was not unknown to fame." It took him some time to find out that it was himself. At last an interpreter took him into the governor's reception room, where, without preface, de Caen brusquely said: "Where is your passport and your commission; and why did you come without the Investigator?"

"She was so rotten fore and aft that she crumbled at a touch," was the reply.

"Have you an order to come to this isle? Why did you come?"

"Necessity made me," answered Flinders calmly.

"You are imposing, sir," angrily replied de Caen; "you know it is not possible that the governor of New South Wales would send you out in so small a boat. Take him away, and treat him well," he added, turning to the guard, and this was Flinders' last hour of freedom for years to come.

His quarters, shared with Atkin at first, were in a small house, part of a cafe, "under the dark entry, and up the narrow stairs into a bedroom, while the door was bolted, and the regular tramp, tramp, of the sentry kept on hour after hour."

It was a meagre room, containing two truckle-beds, two rush-bottomed chairs, a broken old gilt-bordered looking-glass, and evil smells. At 6 a.m. the sleeping men were wakened by the patrol of an armed grenadier in the bedroom—a needless annoyance. The meals of fresh meat, bread, fruit, and vegetables were a luxury.

Monistrol, the colonel commanding the garrison, a few days later took Flinders to the home of General de Caen, whose secretary again asked why his vessel was so small. Where were his scientific men, why did he go to Port Northwest at all, and why did he chase a vessel? (This query referred to his endeavour to overtake a pilot-boat.) He gave his reasons in full, and expected to be allowed to go back to the Cumberland. Shortly afterwards a message came from the governor asking him to dinner, but he refused, saying, "Unless I am a free man, I will not come to the governor's table."

On July 12th, 1804, he wrote to Sir Joseph Banks:—

"Since my imprisonment in this island I have written to you, Sir Joseph, several letters, and by several conveyances. Some of them must no doubt have been received. General de Caen still keeps me closely confined, but he has lately given me the greater part of my books and papers, and, therefore, I shall again be able to proceed in preparing the accounts of our discoveries.

"I have now been kept in prison seven months. The time passes drearily along, and I have yet to remain five months longer before any orders are likely to be received concerning me from the French Government; and then it is uncertain of what nature they may be, since it is not known what statement the General has made of my particular case; and probably the vessels carrying the despatches will be taken, and the letters thrown overboard, in which case it cannot be guessed how long I may be kept. My dependence, therefore, is on the Admiralty demanding me to be given up, by virtue of the French passport, in which, even here it is acknowledged, there has been no infringement on my part further than in intention, which intention has been misconstrued and misunderstood by a man violent against the name of an Englishman, and ignorant of what relates to voyages of discovery.

"This arbitrary man is now doing me the greatest injury without even making a plea for it. His own subjects (for he is a most despotic monarch), Frenchmen, who are acquainted with the circumstances, condemn him for it; but the generality cannot believe that the commander of a voyage of discovery, whose labour is calculated for the good of all nations, should be kept a prisoner without something greatly wrong on his part; and, since no crime is charged against me, it is currently reported here that I have not the requisite papers to prove my identity.

"I hope, Sir Joseph, that, even from the charts which I have sent home, you will think we did as much as the lateness of the season with which we first came upon the coast, and the early rottenness of the Investigator could well allow; and I think our labours will not lose on a comparison with what was done by the Geographe and Naturaliste. No part of the unfortunate circumstances that have since occurred can, I believe, be attributed to my neglects or mistakes; and therefore I am not without hope that, when the Admiralty know I am suffering an unjust imprisonment, they will think me worthy to be put upon the post-captains' list. My age now exceeds the time at which we judge in the navy a man ought to have taken his station there who is to arrive at anything eminent. It would soften the dark shade with which my reflections in this confinement cannot but be overspread to know that I was promoted to the list where my rank would be progressive. It is to you only, Sir Joseph, that I can address upon this subject. I have had ample testimonies of your power and of the strength of your mind in resisting the malicious insinuations of those who are pleased to be my enemies, nor do I further doubt your willingness to give me assistance than that I fear you do not yet think me worthy of it; but I will be. If I do not prove myself worthy of your patronage, Sir Joseph, let me be thrown out of the society of all good men. I have too much ambition to rest in the unnoticed middle order of mankind. Since neither birth nor fortune have favoured me, my actions shall speak to the world. In the regular service of the navy there are too many competitors for fame. I have therefore chosen a branch which, though less rewarded by rank and fortune, is yet little less in celebrity. In this the candidates are fewer, and in this, if adverse fortune does not oppose me, I will succeed; and although I cannot rival the immortalized name of Cook, yet if persevering industry, joined to what ability I may possess, can accomplish it, then will I secure the second place, if you, Sir Joseph, as my guardian genius, will but conduct me into the place of probation.

"But this is visionary, for I am so fast in prison that I cannot get forth. The thought is bitterness. When I recollect where and what I am, and compare it with where and how I ought to be employed, it is misery; but when to this the recollection of my family and the present derangement of their affairs from my absence are added, then it is that the bonds enter deep into my soul."

While his money lasted, Flinders spent it in buying fruit and vegetables for his imprisoned crew; when cash ran out, he drew a bill on the Admiralty. The interpreter who undertook to get it cashed was nearly killed by the soldiers for carrying, as they thought, a private letter. Eventually the Danish consul cashed this bill for the Englishmen, and gave them full value for it, which, considering the state of the times, shows that he was a truly good man.

The Cumberland was taken to the head of the harbour and converted into a hulk, and a document was brought to Flinders to sign in which—in truly French fashion—he was asked to accuse himself of being a spy. He promptly refused the request, which was again and again made, and he always scorned to comply. While his papers were being overhauled, Flinders managed to secure some of them, and among other things the signal-book, which he destroyed.

De Caen's report to his Government shows the view he took of these proceedings. In it he says:—

"Commander Flinders, formerly captain of the corvette Investigator, sent by the English Government for work of discovery in the Pacific Ocean, has altered absolutely the mission for which he had obtained from the French Government the passport signed by the Minister for Marine. In such passport he is certainly not authorized to land at the Isle of France to study the prevailing winds, the port, or the state of the colony, and by this conduct he has violated the neutrality under which he had been permitted to land. It is necessary therefore to order M. Monistrol, chief of the battalion, to board the schooner Cumberland in the presence of Captain Flinders, break the seals put on his room, and gather certain papers which may be required to complete proofs already in existence of the charge against him. The room is then to be resealed, and Captain Flinders to be taken back to the house where he has already been confined as prisoner. The crew of the schooner are meanwhile to be kept prisoners on the prison-ship."

Flinders wrote repeatedly by every vessel into which he could smuggle a letter, to Banks, to King, and to his superiors in England. Many of these letters never arrived, but what letters did reach home aroused the indignation of his friends; and Sir Joseph Banks in England, King in Sydney, and many others worked hard to effect the release of the prisoner.

To de Caen Flinders wrote several letters, giving him some "straight talk." Here are some extracts:—

"If you say it is a breach of neutrality to come here for the reasons I did, how is it that when your discoverers put into Port Jackson, etc., they were received well? In war-time Baudin and Hamelin took notes, and were not interfered with.... I was chosen by Sir Joseph Banks to complete Cook's work, and am not a spy. If I had come as a spy, what have I done? Why not wait till the eve of sailing to arrest me? I have been a prisoner since the first hour I landed."

. To face p. 208.]

The governor's answer was— [Sidenote: 1804]

"It is useless to get up a discussion, as you do not appreciate the delicate motive of my silence. I say, until matters are advanced more, say nothing, as you know so little of the rules of good manners."

This rude letter maddened Flinders. He wrote another long epistle, setting forth reasons for letting him go, even to France, promising to say not a word of Mauritius and stating again the absolute simple necessity of his visit. He could extract no answer.

The heat was fearful. All the respectable people in the place were gone to the hills, and Flinders and his men nearly died of the horrible confinement. His letters were opened, and very few reached England. At home Sir Joseph Banks set to work, and did his best for the poor prisoner. On August 29th, 1804, he (Banks) wrote to Governor King a long letter, which is full of things he was disinterestedly doing for the colony, and that letter says:—

"Poor Flinders, you know, I suppose, put into the Isle de France for water, and was detained as a prisoner and treated as a spy. Our Government have no communication with the French; but I have some with their literary men, and have written, with the permission of the Government, to solicit his release, and have sent in my letter a copy of the very handsome one M. Baudin left with you. If this should effect Flinders' liberation, which I think it will, we shall both rejoice."

In June, 1805, Banks wrote to Flinders from London, detailing what had been done:—

"From the moment that I heard of your detention, I have used every effort in my power towards effecting your release. As the enmity between the Governments of France and England is carried to such a height that no exchange has on any pretence been effected, they could do nothing for you. I therefore obtained permission in August last to address the National Institute of France requesting their interference to obtain your release as a literary man, a mode by which I have obtained the release of five persons from the gracious condescension of the Emperor, the only five, I believe, that have been regularly discharged from their parole.

"My letters were unfortunately detained in Holland some months, and, in fact, did not arrive at Paris till April. I received, however, an immediate and favourable answer, which proves that the literary men in Paris will do all in their power to obtain your liberty; but, unfortunately, the Emperor of the French was in Italy, where he still remains, when my letter arrived.

"I confess, however, I entertain sanguine hopes of a favourable answer, when he shall return to Paris, from the marked and laudable attention His Imperial Majesty has always shown to scientific men. As far as I know, your friends here are well. Mrs. Flinders I heard of very lately, as full of anxiety for your return. I have heard many times from her on the subject, and always done my utmost to quiet her mind and soothe her apprehensions.

"All your letters to me and to the Admiralty have, I believe, been safely received. Your last, containing the last sheet of your chart, I forwarded to the Hydrographical Office at the Admiralty, as you desired.

"We have had a succession of First Lords of the Admiralty since Lord Spencer, no one of them favourable to the pursuit of discovery, and none less than the present Lord Barham, late Sir Charles Middleton. As he, however, is eighty-four years old, either his mind or his body must soon become incapable of any exertion whatever. I have no news to tell you relative to discovery. M. Baudin's voyage has not yet been published. I do not hear that his countrymen are well satisfied with his proceedings. Captain Bligh has lately been nominated governor of New South Wales."

Meanwhile prizes taken by the French were coming into the Mauritius, and there were many English prisoners on the island. Their detention became a little less wearisome with work, music, billiards, astronomy, and pleasant companionship. It was a curious company. Prisoners who were gathered from many parts of the world and grades of society strove only to make the time pass easily, and succeeded until de Caen heard of this and ordered, in his usual haughty style, that "spy-glasses and such things" should be taken away, and if anything were concealed, then the prisoners were to be kept in close confinement, and if they showed themselves outside of the house, were to be shot. Their swords were demanded. Flinders refused to give his up to the petty officer sent to receive it. "Very well," said the inconsistent de Caen, "as he is not a prisoner, he may keep his."

In July, 1805, the captive wrote to Banks this letter:—

"My last letter to you was dated May 16th, and sent by Mr. Atkin, the master of the Investigator, who, having obtained his leave to depart, took his route by the way of America. He had not been gone many days when an English squadron of four ships appeared off this island, and they are now cruising round it; and about a fortnight since two cartels arrived here with French prisoners from Calcutta and Ceylon. In return for these, all the prisoners of war in this island are to be sent back, and I only to be excepted. It seems that, notwithstanding my imprisonment has continued near nineteen months, the French governor has not received orders from his Government as to the disposal of my person and papers. They have told him he did right to detain and secure me; but their final decision is deferred to their next despatches. These are expected very soon, and then possibly I may be either liberated, or sent to France to be tried as a spy.

"The French captain Bergeret, who arrived from Calcutta, professes to be much interested for me; and, since he has influence with General de Caen, it is possible that I may obtain some little indulgence of liberty after my countrymen are gone. [Sidenote: 1805] Both justice and humanity ought to have obtained this at least for me before; but it seems to be only to private favour and party interest that any concession is made by this arbitrary general.

"Upon the supposition that the first despatches from France will occasion my removal, I expect to be in England or in France, upon a reasonable computation, about February or March, 1806, at which time I anxiously hope and pray that I may find you, my best and most powerful friend, in the possession of health and happiness, and my country enjoying the sweets that must arise from an honourable peace.

"Had I been permitted to go to India with the other prisoners, it was my intention to have applied to Sir Edward Pellew for a ship to go upon the north-west coast of New Holland, to ascertain the existence of an entrance into an inland sea, near the Rosemary Isles of Dampier, previously to my return to Europe, for during the continuance of such a war as the present, I can scarcely hope to get a ship in England to complete the Investigator's voyage. This project, however, is now dissipated."

And again in November of the same year he wrote:—

"I have already informed you of a permission I received, after the departure of all the prisoners of war, to leave my place of confinement, and reside in the country on account of my health. I have now for nearly three months resided in this district, almost in the middle of the island, with a very agreeable and respectable family, from whom I receive every kindness and attention, and with the permission to extend my walks six miles round.

"Since my residence in this district I have not had the least communication with General de Caen, but the liberty I now enjoy is a sufficient proof that he has ceased to consider me as a spy; and I firmly believe that, if he had not said to the French Government during the time of his unjust suspicions of me that he should detain me here until he received their orders, he would have gladly suffered me to depart long since, for he has the character of having a good heart, though too hasty and violent."

By this time all other prisoners had been exchanged, and Flinders alone, with an old, lame seaman (his servant) were the only English remaining.

It was not altogether wonderful that the captive should be forgotten. Trafalgar was fought while Flinders was a prisoner, and in Europe people could hardly be expected to remember one solitary prisoner of the French so far away.

What delay was in those days may be seen from the fact that a letter arrived on July 18th, 1807, from Sir Edward Pellew, commanding the Duncan, Madras Roads, June 21st, stating that papers had been really sent for the captive's release. A private letter was enclosed inviting Flinders to come and stop in India with Pellew. [Sidenote: 1807] The copy of the letter Flinders received drove the resentment deeper into his heart, for it stated that the Paris authorities approved of de Caen's action, but granted Flinders liberty in pure generosity. In July, 1804, this letter had been approved by the authorities; in March, 1806, it had been signed by the Emperor; and in July, 1807, it had arrived in Mauritius, and yet the copy that left London in December reached Mauritius first. Flinders wrote again to de Caen, and was told to "wait a bit." Was ever such an unfortunate man as Matthew Flinders?

In December, 1809, when Flinders had been prisoner in the island seven years, the English blockaded the port, and the Englishmen were kept closer than ever. Then arrived the Harriet to exchange prisoners, and in March of the following year Flinders was informed that he was to be one of the men exchanged. But it was actually July, 1810, before the Harriet got away, for the English, not knowing that they were detaining their own countrymen, kept such a close blockade that the ship could not get out to sea; and when she did get outside, notwithstanding many attempts on the part of the captain to communicate with an English ship and put Flinders on board, he could not overtake one. It turned out afterwards that the English fleet had heard of Flinders being on board the Harriet and gave her a wide berth, thinking that by this means the French would understand that she was at liberty to pursue her way to Europe and land Flinders without molestation from his countrymen.

Ultimately Flinders reached the Cape of Good Hope, and from thence England. When he arrived he received a warm enough welcome from his relatives and immediate friends, but the public had too many stirring events to talk about to think of him, and so publicly his services were practically forgotten. Among other indignities he suffered, he found that the charts taken from him by de Caen had been appropriated to Baudin's exploring expedition. The remainder of his life he devoted to writing his book, An Account of a Voyage to Terra Australia, which was published on the very day of his death (July 14th, 1814). Almost his last words were:—

"I know that in future days of exploration my spirit will rise from the dead, and follow the exploring ships."

Flinders had married in 1801 Ann, daughter of Captain [Sidenote: 1814] Chappell, and by her he had one daughter, Mrs. Annie Petril, who was in 1852 granted, by the joint Governments of New South Wales and Victoria, a pension of L200 a year, which she enjoyed until her death in 1892.



CHAPTER X.

BLIGH AND THE MUTINY OF THE "BOUNTY"

Bligh arrived in New South Wales, and relieved King as governor, in August, 1806. His two years' administration in the colony is noteworthy for nothing but the remarkable manner of its termination. Just as Sir John Franklin's name will live as an Arctic explorer and be forgotten as a Tasmanian governor, so will the name of Bligh in England always recall to mind the Bounty mutiny and scarcely be remembered in connection with Australian history.

Any number of books, and a dozen different versions, have been written of the mutiny. There is Sir John Barrow's Mutiny of the "Bounty," which, considering that the author was Secretary to the Admiralty, ought to be, and is, regarded as an authority; there is Lady Belcher's Mutineers of the "Bounty," by far the most interesting, and probably, notwithstanding a strong anti-Bligh bias, an impartial account of [Sidenote: 1806] facts. It is no wonder Lady Belcher was no admirer of Bligh. Heywood, the midshipman who was tried for his life, was her step-father, and she had very good reason to remember Bligh with no friendly feeling. There are other books, some of them as dull as they are pious and inaccurate, others containing no quality of accuracy or piety, and only dull; and there is Bligh's own narrative of the affair, remarkable for its plain account of the mutiny and the writer's boat voyage and the absence of a single word that could throw a shadow of blame upon the memory of Captain Bligh. Byron's poem of "The Island" is, of course, founded on the Bounty mutiny, but the poet has used his licence to such an extent that the poem, which, by the way, some of the poet's admirers say is one of his worst, has no resemblance to the facts. In 1884 Judge McFarland, of the New South Wales District Court, wrote a book on the mutiny, and this work, for the reason that it was published in a remote part of the world, is little known; yet it is probably the best book on the subject. The Judge marshals his facts with judicial ability, and he sums up in such a manner the causes leading to the mutiny, that if Bligh were on trial before him we are afraid the jury would convict that officer without leaving the box.

A critic whose opinion is entitled to the greatest weight, having read the manuscript of this and the next chapter before it went to press, considered that, although we had written of Bligh's harshness to his men as proved, we had not specifically alluded to the proof. For this reason, and because the story of the Bounty mutiny, like every event that happened in the South Seas a hundred years ago, is interwoven with the early history of Australia, we propose to retell the story shortly. And since it seems that Bligh's tyrannical character is still a fact not taken for granted by everyone, we will endeavour, not to justify the mutiny, but to show that, by all the rules of evidence, Bligh's behaviour to his ship's company is proved to have been of the aggravating character alleged by his shipmates, and that the Bounty was not, as Bligh represented her to be, what is called by sailors "a happy ship."

Another reason for retelling the story is, that, notwithstanding that the name of the Bounty sounds most familiar in most people's ears, yet we have some evidence that the present generation has [Sidenote: 1776] almost forgotten nearly everything relating to it.

A few years ago one of the authors went to Norfolk Island, so remote a spot that visits are counted not so many to the year, but so many years to a visitor. It was thought that an account of the descendants of the Bounty mutineers would be of interest to English magazine-readers. Everyone, it was supposed, knew all about the Bounty mutiny, so half a dozen lines were devoted to it, the rest of the space to the present state of the old Pitcairn families. The article was hawked about to most of the London magazine offices, and was invariably rejected, on the ground that no one remembered the Bounty mutiny, and that an account of the event would be much more acceptable. It appears from many recently printed allusions to the mutiny that the magazine editors rightly judged their public.

Bligh's first visit to the South Seas was when, under Cook, he sailed as master of the Resolution in 1776-9. A native of Plymouth, of obscure parentage, he was then about twenty-three years old, and had entered the service through the "hawse-pipe."

By Cook's influence, he was in 1781 promoted lieutenant, and later, through the influence of Sir Joseph Banks, was given the command of the Bounty, which sailed from Spithead on December 23rd, 1787, for Tahiti.

The Bounty was an armed transport of 215 tons burden. Her mission was to convey breadfruit to the West Indian islands, the planters having represented to George III. that the introduction of the plant would be very beneficial as an article of food. The ship was fitted up in a manner peculiar, but adapted to the service she was upon. She was 90 feet long, her greatest beam 24 feet, and her greatest depth of hold about 10 feet. This limited space was divided in the following manner: 19 tons of iron ballast and provisions and stores for the ship's total complement (46 persons) in the hold; in the cockpit cabins for some subordinate officers; on the 'tween-decks a small room for Bligh to sleep in, another for a dining and sitting-room, and a small cabin for the master. Then from right aft to the after-hatchway a regular conservatory was rigged up. Rows and rows of shelves, with garden-pots for the plants, ran all round; regular gutters were made to carry off the drainage when the plants were watered, and water being precious, the pots drained into tubs, so that the water might be used again, while special large skylights admitted air and light. On the foreside of this cabin lived the more subordinate officers, and still further forward the crew.

The crew under Bligh consisted of a master (Fryer), a gunner, boatswain, carpenter, surgeon, 2 master's mates, 2 midshipmen, 2 quarter-masters, a quarter-master's mate, boatswain's mate, a carpenter's mate and a seaman carpenter, a sail-maker, armourer, and a ship's corporal, 23 able seamen, and a man who acted as clerk and ship's steward. Besides there were two gardeners who had been selected by Sir Joseph Banks.

The Bounty, on her way to Tahiti, touched at Teneriffe, Simon's Bay, and at Adventure Bay, Van Diemen's Land. On arrival at Tahiti, she spent nearly five months in Matavai Bay loading the breadfruit plants. Now, according to Bligh, up to this point all had gone well on the ship, and everyone had seemed happy and contented; according to every other person on board, whether friendly or inimical to Bligh, there was a good deal of unpleasantness and discontent during the whole passage. According to Bligh, the beauty of the Tahitian women, the delightful ease and charm of island existence in contrast to the hardships of the sailor's life, tempted certain of the men into what followed; according to all other witnesses, it is admitted that the men were so tempted, that desertions took place, and the deserters were taken and severely punished before the ship left the island. But, say certain witnesses, when the mutiny broke out the seductions of Tahiti were less the cause of the outbreak than the tyrannical and coarse conduct of Bligh.

In due course the ship sailed in continuation of her voyage. Then on the night of Monday, April 28th, 1789, the master, John Fryer, had the first watch, the gunner, William Peckover, the middle watch, and Fletcher Christian, the senior master's mate, the morning watch. Just as the day was breaking, when the ship was a few miles to the southward of Tofoa, one of the Friendly Island group, Bligh was rudely awakened by the entrance to his cabin of Christian and three of the crew. He was told he would be killed if he made the least noise, and Christian, armed with a cutlass, the others with muskets and fixed bayonets, escorted him to the deck, after first tying his hands behind him. The master, the gunner, the acting surgeon, Ledward (the surgeon had died and was buried at Tahiti), the second master's mate, and Nelson, one of the botanists, [Sidenote: 1789] were at the same time secured below. The boatswain, carpenter, and clerk were allowed to come on deck, and the boatswain, acting under threats from the mutineers, hoisted out the launch.

Bligh used every endeavour, first by threats, and then by entreaties and promises of forgiveness, to induce the crew to return to their duty, and Fryer, the master, if he had received the least support, would also have made an attempt to retake the ship. But the mutineers threatened instant death to any who attempted resistance.