At the bottom of the long luxuriant garden-ground was a rustic seatabutting upon the low wall that topped the lane. The branches of theEnglish trees (planted long ago) hung above it, and between theirrustling boughs one could see the reach of the silver river. Sittingwith her face to the bay and her back to the house, Sylvia opened themanuscript she had carried off from Meekin, and began to read. It waswritten in a firm, large hand, and headed--
"A NARRATIVE OF THE SUFFERINGS AND ADVENTURES OF CERTAIN OF THE TENCONVICTS WHO SEIZED THE BRIG OSPREY, AT MACQUARIE HARBOUR, IN VANDIEMEN'S LAND, RELATED BY ONE OF THE SAID CONVICTS WHILE LYING UNDERSENTENCE FOR THIS OFFENCE IN THE GAOL AT HOBART TOWN."
Sylvia, having read this grandiloquent sentence, paused for a moment.The story of the mutiny, which had been the chief event of herchildhood, lay before her, and it seemed to her that, were it relatedtruly, she would comprehend something strange and terrible, which hadbeen for many years a shadow upon her memory. Longing, and yet fearing,to proceed, she held the paper, half unfolded, in her hand, as, in herchildhood, she had held ajar the door of some dark room, into which shelonged and yet feared to enter. Her timidity lasted but an instant.
* * * * *
"When orders arrived from head-quarters to break up the penal settlementof Macquarie Harbour, the Commandant (Major Vickers, --th Regiment) andmost of the prisoners embarked on board a colonial vessel, and setsail for Hobart Town, leaving behind them a brig that had been built atMacquarie Harbour, to be brought round after them, and placing CaptainMaurice Frere in command. Left aboard her was Mr. Bates, who had actedas pilot at the settlement, also four soldiers, and ten prisoners, asa crew to work the vessel. The Commandant's wife and child were alsoaboard."
* * * * *
"How strangely it reads," thought the girl.
* * * * *
"On the 12th of January, 1834, we set sail, and in the afternoonanchored safely outside the Gates; but a breeze setting in fromthe north-west caused a swell on the Bar, and Mr. Bates ran back toWellington Bay. We remained there all next day; and in the afternoonCaptain Frere took two soldiers and a boat, and went a-fishing. Therewere then only Mr. Bates and the other two soldiers aboard, and itwas proposed by William Cheshire to seize the vessel. I was at firstunwilling, thinking that loss of life might ensue; but Cheshire and theothers, knowing that I was acquainted with navigation--having in happierdays lived much on the sea--threatened me if I refused to join. A songwas started in the folksle, and one of the soldiers, coming to listento it, was seized, and Lyon and Riley then made prisoner of thesentry. Forced thus into a project with which I had at first but littlesympathy, I felt my heart leap at the prospect of freedom, and wouldhave sacrificed all to obtain it. Maddened by the desperate hopes thatinspired me, I from that moment assumed the command of my wretchedcompanions; and honestly think that, however culpable I may have been inthe eyes of the law, I prevented them from the display of a violence towhich their savage life had unhappily made them but too accustomed."
* * * * *
"Poor fellow," said Sylvia, beguiled by Master Rex's speciousparagraphs, "I think he was not to blame."
* * * * *
"Mr. Bates was below in the cabin, and on being summoned by Cheshire tosurrender, with great courage attempted a defence. Barker fired at himthrough the skylight, but fearful of the lives of the Commandant'swife and child, I struck up his musket, and the ball passed through themouldings of the stern windows. At the same time, the soldiers whom wehad bound in the folksle forced up the hatch and came on deck. Cheshireshot the first one, and struck the other with his clubbed musket. Thewounded man lost his footing, and the brig lurching with the risingtide, he fell into the sea. This was--by the blessing of God--the onlylife lost in the whole affair.
"Mr. Bates, seeing now that we had possession of the deck, surrendered,upon promise that the Commandant's wife and child should be put ashorein safety. I directed him to take such matters as he needed, andprepared to lower the jolly-boat. As she swung off the davits, CaptainFrere came alongside in the whale-boat, and gallantly endeavoured toboard us, but the boat drifted past the vessel. I was now determined tobe free--indeed, the minds of all on board were made up to carry throughthe business--and hailing the whale-boat, swore to fire into her unlessshe surrendered. Captain Frere refused, and was for boarding us again,but the two soldiers joined with us, and prevented his intention. Havingnow got the prisoners into the jolly-boat, we transferred Captain Frereinto her, and being ourselves in the whale-boat, compelled Captain Frereand Mr. Bates to row ashore. We then took the jolly-boat in tow, andreturned to the brig, a strict watch being kept for fear that theyshould rescue the vessel from us.
"At break of day every man was upon deck, and a consultation took placeconcerning the parting of the provisions. Cheshire was for leaving themto starve, but Lesly, Shiers, and I held out for an equal division.After a long and violent controversy, Humanity gained the day, and theprovisions were put into the whale-boat, and taken ashore. Upon thereceipt of the provisions, Mr. Bates thus expressed himself: 'Men, I didnot for one moment expect such kind treatment from you, regarding theprovisions you have now brought ashore for us, out of so little whichthere was on board. When I consider your present undertaking, withouta competent navigator, and in a leaky vessel, your situation seems mostperilous; therefore I hope God will prove kind to you, and preserveyou from the manifold dangers you may have to encounter on the stormyocean.' Mrs. Vickers also was pleased to say that I had behaved kindlyto her, that she wished me well, and that when she returned toHobart Town she would speak in my favour. They then cheered us on ourdeparture, wishing we might be prosperous on account of our humanity insharing the provisions with them.
"Having had breakfast, we commenced throwing overboard the light cargowhich was in the hold, which employed us until dinnertime. After dinnerwe ran out a small kedge-anchor with about one hundred fathoms of line,and having weighed anchor, and the tide being slack, we hauled on thekedge-line, and succeeded in this manner by kedging along, and wecame to two islands, called the Cap and Bonnet. The whole of us thencommenced heaving the brig short, sending the whale-boat to take herin tow, after we had tripped the anchor. By this means we got her safeacross the Bar. Scarcely was this done when a light breeze sprang upfrom the south-west, and firing a musket to apprize the party we hadleft of our safety, we made sail and put out to sea."
Having read thus far, Sylvia paused in an agony of recollection. Sheremembered the firing of the musket, and that her mother had wept overher. But beyond this all was uncertainty. Memories slipped across hermind like shadows--she caught at them, and they were gone. Yet thereading of this strange story made her nerves thrill. Despite thehypocritical grandiloquence and affected piety of the narrative, itwas easy to see that, save some warping of facts to make for himselfa better case, and to extol the courage of the gaolers who had him attheir mercy, the narrator had not attempted to better his tale by theinvention of perils. The history of the desperate project that hadbeen planned and carried out five years before was related with grimsimplicity which (because it at once bears the stamp of truth, andforces the imagination of the reader to supply the omitted detailsof horror), is more effective to inspire sympathy than elaboratedescription. The very barrenness of the narration was hideouslysuggestive, and the girl felt her heart beat quicker as her poeticintellect rushed to complete the terrible picture sketched by theconvict. She saw it all--the blue sea, the burning sun, the slowlymoving ship, the wretched company on the shore; she heard--Was that arustling in the bushes below her? A bird! How nervous she was growing!
"Being thus fairly rid--as we thought--of our prison life, we cheerfullyheld consultation as to our future course. It was my intention to getamong the islands in the South Seas, and scuttling the brig, to passourselves off am
ong the natives as shipwrecked seamen, trusting to God'smercy that some homeward bound vessel might at length rescue us. Withthis view, I made James Lesly first mate, he being an experiencedmariner, and prepared myself, with what few instruments we had, to takeour departure from Birches Rock. Having hauled the whale-boat alongside,we stove her, together with the jolly-boat, and cast her adrift.This done, I parted the landsmen with the seamen, and, steering eastsouth-east, at eight p.m. we set our first watch. In little more than anhour after this came on a heavy gale from the south-west. I, and othersof the landsmen, were violently sea-sick, and Lesly had some difficultyin handling the brig, as the boisterous weather called for two men atthe helm. In the morning, getting upon deck with difficulty, I foundthat the wind had abated, but upon sounding the well discovered muchwater in the hold. Lesly rigged the pumps, but the starboard one onlycould be made to work. From that time there were but two businessesaboard--from the pump to the helm. The gale lasted two days and a night,the brig running under close-reefed topsails, we being afraid to shortensail lest we might be overtaken by some pursuing vessel, so strong wasthe terror of our prison upon us.
"On the 16th, at noon, I again forced myself on deck, and taking ameridian observation, altered the course of the brig to east and bysouth, wishing to run to the southward of New Zealand, out of the usualtrack of shipping; and having a notion that, should our provisions holdout, we might make the South American coast, and fall into Christianhands. This done, I was compelled to retire below, and for a week layin my berth as one at the last gasp. At times I repented my resolution,Fair urging me to bestir myself, as the men were not satisfied with ourcourse. On the 21st a mutiny occurred, led by Lyons, who assertedwe were heading into the Pacific, and must infallibly perish. Thisdisaffected man, though ignorant of navigation, insisted upon steeringto the south, believing that we had run to the northward of theFriendly Islands, and was for running the ship ashore and beseechingthe protection of the natives. Lesly in vain protested that a southwardcourse would bring us into icefields. Barker, who had served on boarda whaler, strove to convince the mutineers that the temperature of suchlatitudes was too warm for such an error to escape us. After much noise,Lyons rushed to the helm, and Russen, drawing one of the pistols takenfrom Mr. Bates, shot him dead, upon which the others returned to theirduty. This dreadful deed was, I fear, necessary to the safety of thebrig; and had it occurred on board a vessel manned by free-men, wouldhave been applauded as a stern but needful measure.
"Forced by these tumults upon deck, I made a short speech to the crew,and convinced them that I was competent to perform what I had promisedto do, though at the time my heart inwardly failed me, and I longed forsome sign of land. Supported at each arm by Lesly and Barker, I took anobservation, and altered our course to north by east, the brig runningeleven knots an hour under single-reefed topsails, and the pumps hard atwork. So we ran until the 31st of January, when a white squall took us,and nearly proved fatal to all aboard.
"Lesly now committed a great error, for, upon the brig righting (shewas thrown upon her beam ends, and her spanker boom carried away), hecommanded to furl the fore-top sail, strike top-gallant yards, furl themain course, and take a reef in the maintopsail, leaving her to scudunder single-reefed maintopsail and fore-sail. This caused the vessel toleak to that degree that I despaired of reaching land in her, and prayedto the Almighty to send us speedy assistance. For nine days and nightsthe storm continued, the men being utterly exhausted. One of the twosoldiers whom we had employed to fish the two pieces of the spankerboom, with some quartering that we had, was washed overboard anddrowned. Our provision was now nearly done, but the gale abating onthe ninth day, we hastened to put provisions on the launch. The seawas heavy, and we were compelled to put a purchase on the fore and mainyards, with preventers to windward, to ease the launch in going over theside. We got her fairly afloat at last, the others battening down thehatches in the brig. Having dressed ourselves in the clothes of CaptainFrere and the pilot, we left the brig at sundown, lying with her channelplates nearly under water.
"The wind freshening during the night, our launch, which might, indeed,be termed a long-boat, having been fitted with mast, bowsprit, and mainboom, began to be very uneasy, shipping two seas one after the other.The plan we could devise was to sit, four of us about, in the sternsheets, with our backs to the sea, to prevent the water pooping us. Thisitself was enough to exhaust the strongest men. The day, however, madeus some amends for the dreadful night. Land was not more than ten milesfrom us; approaching as nearly as we could with safety, we hauled ourwind, and ran along in, trusting to find some harbour. At half-past twowe sighted a bay of very curious appearance, having two large rocks atthe entrance, resembling pyramids. Shiers, Russen, and Fair landed, inhopes of discovering fresh water, of which we stood much in need. Beforelong they returned, stating that they had found an Indian hut, insideof which were some rude earthenware vessels. Fearful of surprise, we layoff the shore all that night, and putting into the bay very early in themorning, killed a seal. This was the first fresh meat I had tasted forfour years. It seemed strange to eat it under such circumstances. Wecooked the flippers, heart, and liver for breakfast, giving some toa cat which we had taken with us out of the brig, for I would not,willingly, allow even that animal to perish. After breakfast, we gotunder weigh; and we had scarcely been out half an hour when we had afresh breeze, which carried us along at the rate of seven knots an hour,running from bay to bay to find inhabitants. Steering along the shore,as the sun went down, we suddenly heard the bellowing of a bullock, andJames Barker, whom, from his violent conduct, I thought incapable ofsuch sentiment, burst into tears.
"In about two hours we perceived great fires on the beach and let goanchor in nineteen fathoms of water. We lay awake all that night. In themorning, we rowed further inshore, and moored the boat to some seaweed.As soon as the inhabitants caught sight of us, they came down to thebeach. I distributed needles and thread among the Indians, and on mysaying 'Valdivia,' a woman instantly pointed towards a tongue of land tothe southward, holding up three fingers, and crying 'leaghos'! which Iconjectured to be three leagues; the distance we afterwards found it tobe.
"About three o'clock in the afternoon, we weathered the point pointedout by the woman, and perceived a flagstaff and a twelve-gun batteryunder our lee. I now divided among the men the sum of six pounds tenshillings that I had found in Captain Frere's cabin, and made anotherand more equal distribution of the clothing. There were also twowatches, one of which I gave to Lesly, and kept the other for myself. Itwas resolved among us to say that we were part crew of the brig Julia,bound for China and wrecked in the South Seas. Upon landing at thebattery, we were heartily entertained, though we did not understand oneword of what they said. Next morning it was agreed that Lesly, Barker,Shiers, and Russen should pay for a canoe to convey them to the town,which was nine miles up the river; and on the morning of the 6th Marchthey took their departure. On the 9th March, a boat, commanded by alieutenant, came down with orders that the rest of us should be conveyedto town; and we accordingly launched the boat under convoy of thesoldiers, and reached the town the same evening, in some trepidation. Ifeared lest the Spaniards had obtained a clue as to our real character,and was not deceived--the surviving soldier having betrayed us. Thisfellow was thus doubly a traitor--first, in deserting his officer, andthen in betraying his comrades.
"We were immediately escorted to prison, where we found our fourcompanions. Some of them were for brazening out the story of shipwreck,but knowing how confused must necessarily be our accounts, were weexamined separately, I persuaded them that open confession would be ourbest chance of safety. On the 14th we were taken before the Intendenteor Governor, who informed us that we were free, on condition that wechose to live within the limits of the town. At this intelligence I feltmy heart grow light, and only begged in the name of my companions thatwe might not be given up to the British Government; 'rather than which,'said I, 'I would beg to be shot dead in the palace squ
are.' The Governorregarded us with tears in his eyes, and spoke as follows: 'My poor men,do not think that I would take that advantage over you. Do not make anattempt to escape, and I will be your friend, and should a vessel cometomorrow to demand you, you shall find I will be as good as my word. AllI have to impress upon you is, to beware of intemperance, which isvery prevalent in this country, and when you find it convenient, topay Government the money that was allowed you for subsistence while inprison.'
"The following day we all procured employment in launching a vessel ofthree hundred tons burden, and my men showed themselves so activethat the owner said he would rather have us than thirty of his owncountrymen; which saying pleased the Governor, who was there with almostthe whole of the inhabitants and a whole band of music, this vesselhaving been nearly three years on the stocks. After she was launched,the seamen amongst us helped to fit her out, being paid fifteen dollarsa month, with provisions on board. As for myself, I speedily obtainedemployment in the shipbuilder's yard, and subsisted by honest industry,almost forgetting, in the unwonted pleasures of freedom, the sad reverseof fortune which had befallen me. To think that I, who had mingled amonggentlemen and scholars, should be thankful to labour in a shipwright'syard by day, and sleep on a bundle of hides by night! But this ispersonal matter, and need not be obtruded.
"In the same yard with me worked the soldier who had betrayed us, and Icould not but regard it as a special judgment of Heaven when he oneday fell from a great height and was taken up for dead, dying in muchtorment in a few hours. The days thus passed on in comparative happinessuntil the 20th of May, 1836, when the old Governor took his departure,regretted by all the inhabitants of Valdivia, and the Achilles, aone-and-twenty-gun brig of war, arrived with the new Governor. One ofthe first acts of this gentleman was to sell our boat, which was mooredat the back of Government-house. This proceeding looked to my mindindicative of ill-will; and, fearful lest the Governor should deliver usagain into bondage, I resolved to make my escape from the place. Havingcommunicated my plans to Barker, Lesly, Riley, Shiers, and Russen, Ioffered the Governor to get built for him a handsome whale-boat, makingthe iron work myself. The Governor consented, and in a little morethan a fortnight we had completed a four-oared whale-boat, capable ofweathering either sea or storm. We fitted her with sails and provisionsin the Governor's name, and on the 4th of July, being a Saturday night,we took our departure from Valdivia, dropping down the river shortlyafter sunset. Whether the Governor, disgusted at the trick we hadplayed him, decided not to pursue us, or whether--as I rather think--ourabsence was not discovered until the Monday morning, when we were beyondreach of capture, I know not, but we got out to sea without hazard,and, taking accurate bearings, ran for the Friendly Islands, as had beenagreed upon amongst us.
"But it now seemed that the good fortune which had hitherto attendedus had deserted us, for after crawling for four days in sultryweather, there fell a dead calm, and we lay like a log upon the sea forforty-eight hours. For three days we remained in the midst of the ocean,exposed to the burning rays of the sun, in a boat without water orprovisions. On the fourth day, just as we had resolved to draw lotsto determine who should die for the sustenance of the others, we werepicked up by an opium clipper returning to Canton. The captain,an American, was most kind to us, and on our arrival at Canton, asubscription was got up for us by the British merchants of that city,and a free passage to England obtained for us. Russen, however, gettingin drink, made statements which brought suspicion upon us. I had imposedupon the Consul with a fictitious story of a wreck, but had stated thatmy name was Wilson, forgetting that the sextant which had beenpreserved in the boat had Captain Bates's name engraved upon it. Thesecircumstances together caused sufficient doubts in the Consul's mind tocause him to give directions that, on our arrival in London, we wereto be brought before the Thames Police Court. There being no evidenceagainst us, we should have escaped, had not a Dr. Pine, who had beensurgeon on board the Malabar transport, being in the Court, recognizedme and swore to my identity. We were remanded, and, to complete thechain of evidence, Mr. Capon, the Hobart Town gaoler, was, strangelyenough, in London at the time, and identified us all. Our story wasthen made public, and Barker and Lesly, turning Queen's evidence againstRussen, he was convicted of the murder of Lyons, and executed. Wewere then placed on board the Leviathan hulk, and remained there untilshipped in the Lady Jane, which was chartered, with convicts, for VanDiemen's Land, in order to be tried in the colony, where the offence wascommitted, for piratically seizing the brig Osprey, and arrived here onthe 15th December, 1838."
* * * * *
Coming, breathless, to the conclusion of this wonderful relation, Sylviasuffered her hand to fall into her lap, and sat meditative. The historyof this desperate struggle for liberty was to her full of vague horror.She had never before realized among what manner of men she had lived.The sullen creatures who worked in the chain-gangs, or pulled in theboats--their faces brutalized into a uniform blankness--must be verydifferent men from John Rex and his companions. Her imagination picturedthe voyage in the leaky brig, the South American slavery, the midnightescape, the desperate rowing, the long, slow agony of starvation,and the heart-sickness that must have followed upon recapture andimprisonment. Surely the punishment of "penal servitude" must have beenmade very terrible for men to dare such hideous perils to escapefrom it. Surely John Rex, the convict, who, alone, and prostratedby sickness, quelled a mutiny and navigated a vessel through astorm-ravaged ocean, must possess qualities which could be put to betteruse than stone-quarrying. Was the opinion of Maurice Frere the correctone after all, and were these convict monsters gifted with unnaturalpowers of endurance, only to be subdued and tamed by unnatural andinhuman punishments of lash and chain? Her fancies growing amid the fastgathering gloom, she shuddered as she guessed to what extremities ofevil might such men proceed did an opportunity ever come to them toretaliate upon their gaolers. Perhaps beneath each mask of servility andsullen fear that was the ordinary prison face, lay hid a courage and adespair as mighty as that which sustained those ten poor wanderers overthe Pacific Ocean. Maurice had told her that these people had theirsecret signs, their secret language. She had just seen a specimen ofthe skill with which this very Rex--still bent upon escape--could senda hidden message to his friends beneath the eyes of his gaolers. Whatif the whole island was but one smouldering volcano of revolt andmurder--the whole convict population but one incarnated conspiracy,bound together by crime and suffering! Terrible to think of--yet notimpossible.
Oh, how strangely must the world have been civilized, that this mostlovely corner of it must needs be set apart as a place of banishment forthe monsters that civilization had brought forth and bred! She cast hereyes around, and all beauty seemed blotted out from the scene beforeher. The graceful foliage melting into indistinctness in the gatheringtwilight, appeared to her horrible and treacherous. The river seemed toflow sluggishly, as though thickened with blood and tears. The shadow ofthe trees seemed to hold lurking shapes of cruelty and danger. Even thewhispering breeze bore with it sighs, and threats, and mutterings ofrevenge. Oppressed by a terror of loneliness, she hastily caught up themanuscript, and turned to seek the house, when, as if summoned from theearth by the power of her own fears, a ragged figure barred her passage.
To the excited girl this apparition seemed the embodiment of the unknownevil she had dreaded. She recognized the yellow clothing, and marked theeager hands outstretched to seize her. Instantly upon her flashed thestory that three days since had set the prison-town agog. The desperadoof Port Arthur, the escaped mutineer and murderer, was before her, withunchained arms, free to wreak his will of her.
"Sylvia! It is you! Oh, at last! I have escaped, and come to ask--What?Do you not know me?"
Pressing both hands to her bosom, she stepped back a pace, speechlesswith terror.
"I am Rufus Dawes," he said, looking in her face for the grateful smileof recognition that did not come--"Rufus
Dawes."
The party at the house had finished their wine, and, sitting on thebroad verandah, were listening to some gentle dullness of the clergyman,when there broke upon their ears a cry.
"What's that?" said Vickers.
Frere sprang up, and looked down the garden. He saw two figures thatseemed to struggle together. One glance was enough, and, with a shout,he leapt the flower-beds, and made straight at the escaped prisoner.
Rufus Dawes saw him coming, but, secure in the protection of the girlwho owed to him so much, he advanced a step nearer, and loosing hisrespectful clasp of her hand, caught her dress.
"Oh, help, Maurice, help!" cried Sylvia again.
Into the face of Rufus Dawes came an expression of horror-strickenbewilderment. For three days the unhappy man had contrived to keep lifeand freedom, in order to get speech with the one being who, he thought,cherished for him some affection. Having made an unparalleled escapefrom the midst of his warders, he had crept to the place where lived theidol of his dreams, braving recapture, that he might hear from her twowords of justice and gratitude. Not only did she refuse to listen tohim, and shrink from him as from one accursed, but, at the sound ofhis name, she summoned his deadliest foe to capture him. Such monstrousingratitude was almost beyond belief. She, too,--the child he had nursedand fed, the child for whom he had given up his hard-earned chance offreedom and fortune, the child of whom he had dreamed, the child whoseimage he had worshipped--she, too, against him! Then there was nojustice, no Heaven, no God! He loosed his hold of her dress, and,regardless of the approaching footsteps, stood speechless, shaking fromhead to foot. In another instant Frere and McNab flung themselves uponhim, and he was borne to the ground. Though weakened by starvation, heshook them off with scarce an effort, and, despite the servants who camehurrying from the alarmed house, might even then have turned andmade good his escape. But he seemed unable to fly. His chest heavedconvulsively, great drops of sweat beaded his white face, and from hiseyes tears seemed about to break. For an instant his features workedconvulsively, as if he would fain invoke upon the girl, weeping on herfather's shoulder, some hideous curse. But no words came--only thrustinghis hand into his breast, with a supreme gesture of horror and aversion,he flung something from him. Then a profound sigh escaped him, and heheld out his hands to be bound.
There was something so pitiable about this silent grief that, as theyled him away, the little group instinctively averted their faces, lestthey should seem to triumph over him.
CHAPTER XI. A RELIC OF MACQUARIE HARBOUR.
For the Term of His Natural Life Page 41