Caroline Chisholm

by Sarah Goldman

  I only wish I could touch their hearts without wounding them. But I will not attribute the non-repayment of such loans to what, I am sorry to say, some ascribe it to. Some indeed have honourably fulfilled what was expected of them . . . so I will lay the cause of the people not returning the loans to the excitement created by the gold discovery, the rush to the diggings . . . forgetting in the feverish search for gold their obligations to the Society and their fellow men. Sure I am then they need not only to be told and assured, that mothers sigh here — children pine at home — . . . to induce them to fulfil the very easy terms upon which they are asked and have agreed to refund the loans viz., “within two years from date of arrival, by eight equal quarterly payments.” . . . How gratifying it would be then . . . if the immigrants who have received loans would but place the Society in a position to lend . . . £5 or £6 each, and thus keep up a continued stream of emigration by family reunion . . . If I press the repayment of the loans, believe me it is not on account of the party who may have originated the plan . . . [but on] . . . the happiness and prosperity of thousands of struggling people of near relatives . . . deeply interested in its success.30

  This appeal was followed in The Argus with a heartfelt leader by the newspaper’s editors, calling on defaulters to make good their promises of reimbursement of the loans made to them on such easy terms and without which they could not have come to the colony: “Ingratitude is a very detestable vice under any circumstances. But it becomes double hateful when it bears the look of dishonesty . . . Every man who fails to refund his loan, keeps some other person from coming out to the Colony; . . . Surely, then it will not be necessary to say another word on the subject.”31

  But it was. By November 1852, of the almost £3000 lent to immigrants only £430 had been sent back to London.32 By 1855 the immigration agent in Sydney would be saying that the amounts collected were “too trifling to mention”, with only £58 10s having been repaid in New South Wales by the end of that year.33 Ironically, when setting up the society, Caroline had posed a question regarding the overall character of the British people, particularly as it related to the loan repayments. She had written: “It is a great moral problem yet to be solved, whether, with all our religious, moral, social, and commercial advantages, we are rearing rogues or honest men; if we are not doing the one, we are certainly doing the other.”34 It seems that by 1855 she had her answer.

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  It would be some time before it became apparent in London that funds from emigrating settlers were not flowing back to be reused by the society. It is unlikely that Caroline was monitoring the finances closely, particularly as her workload increased steadily. As well as preparing signed-up emigrants for their voyages, like a ravenous pied piper she was bent on feeding even more families into her vessels. The gold rush meant there was no lack of people wishing to migrate; what Caroline was intent on offering was a practical financial method to make that happen. From 1850 she organised and spoke at countless meetings and lectures to departing migrants, at gatherings in and around London, and then from 1852 she also took to the road, travelling as far afield as Birmingham, Liverpool, Northampton, Dublin, Glasgow and Edinburgh. Her talks were well attended, with reports of some two hundred people at one of her Northampton assemblies.

  Everywhere she went the press followed. In Sydney, the newspaper editors had fallen into line behind her and now the same was happening in Britain; the London, Irish, Scottish and provincial newspapers gave her wide coverage. Caroline knew how to create controversy too, although she didn’t always receive flattering reviews, which caused at least one spat between two newspapers in Scotland. The John O’Groat Journal attacked The Edinburgh Advertiser, complaining that “The Edinburgh Advertiser, in noticing the meeting, comments on the lady’s personal appearance, says it is prepossessing, but has the bad taste to add, that ‘it seems a little got up for effect.’ Granting that it were so, which we are inclined to doubt, the labours of Mrs Chisholm for the benefit of society . . . should have protected her from any paltry sneer.”35 The paper then went on to say that a committee under the auspices of the Lord Provost of Edinburgh had been set up to promote emigration from Edinburgh.

  Like many a modern-day politician, Caroline may have organised her lectures to fit in with other business; in Glasgow, for example, apart from the town meeting, she toured a shipyard building a vessel to her personal specifications. In Edinburgh and Northampton, it is likely that she would have called upon Archibald’s relatives and her own — she may even have decided to visit both towns because she knew that she would be offered free accommodation, no doubt an important saving. Although Caroline would not accept any direct personal payment, she did receive some of the fringe benefits of fame, for instance allowing railway companies to pay her travel costs as she journeyed across England, Ireland and Scotland.36

  Caroline’s lectures focused mainly on two issues: the workings of her society and what immigrants could expect from the Antipodes. She had visited both Hobart and Adelaide briefly, many years earlier, but she had never stepped foot in Victoria; her talks relied solely on her knowledge and personal experience of New South Wales. A few years later, she was to discover that whilst similar, the colonies were not facsimiles of each other. It was an assumption that was to cause her some consternation.

  *

  Two months after baby Sarah died in August 1850, Caroline had become pregnant again with her eighth and last child. Henrietta, known in the family by her second name, Monica, was born in July 1851, four months after Archibald set sail for South Australia — it would be another three years before he met his daughter. Monica was Caroline’s fourth child in the six years since Archibald had returned from India to live with his wife. Apart from travelling to Australia to work for the society, his departure had the added benefit of being a failsafe birth control measure for Caroline. She was forty-two years old when he left. She would be forty-six when they met again and there would be no more pregnancies. Six of her eight children grew to adulthood, but they were not her main priority. In that, Dickens was right, but, unlike the fictional Mrs Jellyby, Caroline was no self-deceiver: she was aware of the effect her actions had upon her children, even to the extent of compromising their future prospects when finances were stretched.

  By early 1851 both Caroline and Archibald were worried about money. Neither received any payment for the work they did for the society, and maintaining two households on opposite sides of the world only exacerbated the problem. Caroline had alluded to this in early August 1851, in a letter she wrote to The Adelaide Observer about Archibald’s arrival there: “With our means, however, it would not be possible that this separation could continue for any length of time.”37 Now she had to make a decision on whether to continue her efforts on emigration or to support her sons’ schooling.

  When Archibald had left for Australia, he had stipulated that the three older boys were to remain at Sedgley Park School until the entire family set forth to join him. But the increasing monetary strain of the separation led Caroline to contravene those wishes. In April 1852, following two lectures in Birmingham, she visited her friend from Windsor days, Bishop William Ullathorne. Soon after, in a personal letter to the bishop, Caroline stated that she had not only been unwell, but was also so financially stressed that she had decided to withdraw the boys from the school.38 She may have been feeling depressed after a recent illness and perhaps with Archibald away she desperately needed to communicate with a friend she felt she could trust. Even strong, confident people occasionally need a shoulder to help them through a tough period and, given Caroline’s religious faith, it’s not surprising that she turned to Bishop Ullathorne. She had known him for many years, he had always been one of her supporters and she no doubt felt that she could depend upon him and his advice. At the end of the note she mentions the burden of her work; it is one of the rare times when we see her let down her guard, her confidence slip.39

  What made her decision to withdraw her sons from the
school remarkable is that, knowing of her work with the emigrants and understanding her pecuniary difficulties, the church had offered to pay the difference between what she could afford and the actual fees for all three boys. Yet she rejected the offer. Caroline believed that the public would have greater confidence in her if she remained totally independent and to her that was paramount. Having taken the boys from school, she sent Henry, then aged thirteen, to Ireland and William, fifteen, to Rome (both boys were miserable — she probably collected Henry from Ireland in May 1852 whilst giving lectures there). Archibald Jnr, sixteen, she kept with her in London. Her letter to Bishop Ullathorne clearly reveals that she is willing to accept the collateral damage to her sons’ futures, stating that “the following out of my vocation will I fear be a lasting disadvantage to them — and yet my Lord I dare not give up my work it hangs about me as a duty, and will not permit me to consider perhaps so much as I ought the sacrifices I am bringing upon others through their love, and obedience to me”.40

  Her attitude to her children remains one of the greatest mysteries of Caroline’s character. Highly intelligent, dynamic, practical, humorous, articulate, sociable, attractive, a risk-taker, religious, charitable and caring — there are so many positive epithets to describe her, and yet it has to be acknowledged that she was, to a large extent, indifferent to her own children. One mitigating comment, however, comes from a direct descendant, Caroline’s great-great-grandson, Professor Don Chisholm, who asserted during an interview in Sydney in 2016 that, despite everything, according to family lore, her children as adults maintained a close relationship with their mother, something they would not have done if they had felt neglected or disadvantaged or unloved.

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  On the other side of the world, Archibald was also concerned about their personal finances. Even so, he was still working for the society and, despite being unable to collect most of the monies owing, he had achieved some successes in Australia, such as establishing strong committees in both Melbourne and Adelaide that included churchmen, businessmen and members of the legislature. These men helped settlers send money home to bring out family members, checked conditions on ships arriving from Britain, attempted to ensure some care for new immigrants, and worked with Archibald to convince authorities to set up a reception centre in Melbourne. Archibald’s commitment to and reasonable success in augmenting family reunions was probably the high point of his work for the society.

  By mid-1852, however, he’d had enough. He sent a letter of resignation to the Melbourne committee. He was fifty-four years of age; he wasn’t an old man, but he sounded tired: “The time has arrived when both Mrs Chisholm and myself may transfer our labours over to the joint Committees.” He then went on to say that he was willing to continue in his honorary capacity until a replacement (who was to be paid) could be found, rejecting, however, any suggestion that he could continue himself, on a salary: “As Mrs Chisholm and myself have given our services . . . gratuitously for so many years, I feel that . . . our labours in this work should end in the same spirit in which it began, hoping that others, who have more leisure and means, will continue the operations of the Society, which we could not well do in justice to our children.”41

  What is unusual in this letter, written in mid-1852, is that Archibald was tendering his resignation two years before Caroline joined him in Melbourne. She had initially expected to leave London in 1853, but was delayed mainly by the flood of emigrants needing assistance to reach the Victorian goldfields. Money was obviously foremost on Archibald’s mind and the resignation could have coincided with the discovery that his three older sons had been withdrawn from Sedgley Park School. Maybe he hoped to conserve what he could to put towards their education in Australia. Whatever the case, his resignation was not accepted, as no suitable replacement could be found, so he continued his work almost until Caroline joined him in 1854.

  In the meantime, Archibald was probably living a lonely and very restricted life on a pitiable income, using just a small part of his East India Company pension while sending the rest to Caroline and the children in London. He was paying thirty shillings a week for a small room in a boarding house. With the gold rush underway, it must have seemed that everyone was making money except him: anyone who wasn’t at the goldfields was able to command a high wage whilst food and other commodities were expensive.42 Although he had reached the rank of captain during his East India Company career, Archibald does not at this point appear to have been a dynamic leader of men or indeed a particularly adept organiser. From this distance, it is hard to be sure, yet the question of whether Caroline, in the same position, would not have had much more success in recouping the society’s monies is inescapable. It seems likely that her talent, personable manner and acute ability to manoeuvre ordinary people as well as powerful officials, along with her undeniable determination, would have had far more impact than Archibald’s more gentlemanly, lukewarm efforts.

  *

  By early 1852, Caroline had become one of the most recognised people, male or female, across the British Isles. As such, she had a part to play, a persona to maintain. Not only did she connect with the wealthy and powerful, her message was also aimed at the middle and lower classes, and they took note when she spoke. A portrait of Caroline, painted albeit by little known artist Angelo Collen Hayter, was hung in the Royal Academy in London; various likenesses and cartoons of her also appeared in such publications as Punch and The Illustrated London News; and The Illustrated Magazine of Art published a vivid description of Caroline following a meeting with her at her home in Islington:

  Most of our readers have doubtless seen many portraits of this lady . . . Let them imagine a sedate, matronly lady, with eyes well set under a very capacious forehead — orbs that seem to “look you through” whilst addressing you — and withal a fascinating manner which at once seizes upon you, and induces you to prolong your stay . . . We took our leave, convinced that we had seen by no means the least remarkable personage of these practical and wonder-working times.43

  Caroline’s determination to help her emigrants continued to reach into new and diverse fields. A pamphlet published in 1853, by Eneas Mackenzie, entitled The Emigrant’s Guide to Australia, incorporated his Memoir of Caroline along with pronouncements from her on, amongst other issues, the culinary delights of the outback. The chapter on “Bush Cookery” came from an unpublished manuscript by Caroline and included a number of recipes: “The great art of bush-cookery consists in giving a variety out of salt beef and flour, minus mustard, pepper, and potatoes.” After suggesting that both the meat and flour be divided into seven parts for the seven days of the week, Caroline provided a different technique for each day of the week: “Tuesday — Chop the meat very small; mix it with this day’s flour, adding thereto a due portion of water; then form the whole into small dumplings, and put them in a frying-pan. This dish generally goes by the name of ‘TROUT-DUMPLINGS’.”44

  Food was also a topic in a medical book published in 1853, at Caroline’s request, by Jabez Hogg, a member of the Royal College of Surgeons of England. It was called The Domestic Medical and Surgical Guide, for the Nursery, the Cottage, and the Bush and may have been inspired by Caroline’s friendship with Florence Nightingale. The dedication to Caroline reads in part: “To Caroline Chisholm who has reformed the system of colonial emigration, elevated the moral tone of a rising country, and indelibly written her name on the early historic page of Australia.”45 The tome is reasonably extensive, covering a variety of illnesses and diseases ranging from “stroke of heat” to “spitting blood” and “yellow fever”; it also explains the best way to build a bush shower, what constitutes various medicines and how to use them, how to stay well on a sea voyage, and how to maintain a healthy diet. Within the last category there is clear advice on who should consume what types of food: “Broad and Windsor Beans ought only to be eaten by those who have out-door exercise,” and “Chocolate is very nourishing, but, on account of the oil which enters into its com
position, it is difficult of digestion, and apt to disagree with delicate persons.”46 The book went into at least two editions.

  Yet, despite the impressive patronage and backing Caroline had gained, she still had not won universal acclaim in Britain. Her detractors did not welcome her society or indeed her influence in government circles and amongst the liberal cognoscenti. Mutterings about her faith persisted, fuelled early on by John Dunmore Lang, who was in Britain until late 1849 and claimed once more, even before the society was underway, that Caroline was a tool of the Roman Catholic priesthood. Lang maintained in an open letter to Earl Grey that Caroline’s motivation in wanting poor Irish girls to emigrate to Australia was “to supply Roman Catholic wives for the English and Scotch Protestants of the humbler classes in Australia, and thereby to Romanize the Australian colonies through the artful and thoroughly Jesuitical device of mixed marriages”.47 He insisted that even government migration schemes were ignoring the poor Protestant girls of England and Scotland, because the relevant ministers of state had paid too much attention to Caroline’s suggestions on emigration: “I am well aware . . . your Lordship and the Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland were merely the dupes of an artful female Jesuit, the able but concealed agent of the Romish priesthood in Australia, who had thus adroitly managed to attach both your Lordships . . . to her apron string.”48