The Dig Tree

by Sarah Murgatroyd

  Twenty

  From Absolute Necessity

  ‘I envied them. They died having done something great.’

  Tryggve Gran on finding the bodies of Scott and his men in Antarctica.

  The royal commission of inquiry into ‘the sufferings and death of Robert O’Hara Burke and William John Wills’ began on 22 November 1861. No mention was made of the other five men who had perished; it didn’t occur to the politicians that anyone would care what had happened to them. From the outset it was evident that certain assumptions had already been made. The inquiry’s terms of reference included the following clause: ‘to investigate the circumstances under which the depot at Cooper’s Creek was abandoned by William Brahe’.

  In a typical conflict of interest, it was governor Sir Henry Barkly who appointed the board’s five commissioners, despite the fact that he was also president of the Royal Society. The result could hardly be described as impartial. The chairman, Major-General Sir Thomas Pratt, was Barkly’s father-in-law. Sir Francis Murphy was the speaker of the Legislative Assembly and a member of the Royal Society. James Sullivan and Matthew Hervey were also politicians with strong links to the Royal Society. The fifth member, Francis Sturt, was a police magistrate and the brother of Charles Sturt. He was the only man with any direct knowledge of exploration.

  The inquiry sat for a total of twelve days in a hall next to the Legislative Council chamber. Of all the commissioners, only Sir Thomas Pratt attended all the sittings. The press and members of the public with a specific interest in the proceedings were permitted to attend, but the commissioners sometimes held private discussions before evidence was heard. The inquiry was as significant for what it omitted as for what it included. It did not ask how such an inappropriate leader had been selected for such an ambitious journey, nor did it stop to discover why an overloaded expedition had been dispatched at the wrong time of the year. Instead, the commission chose to concentrate on events after Menindee.

  Since Burke and the Royal Society were untouchable, it was clear from the beginning that lesser players would have to take the blame. The obvious candidates were William Brahe and William Wright. Neither had influential connections; neither was allowed legal representation.

  The commissioners spent their first morning debating whether Sir William Stawell should be asked to appear as a witness. After all, he was only the chairman of the Exploration Committee! Reluctantly they agreed that he would have to be disturbed, but only at his convenience, ‘on as early a day as possible, to be named by himself’.

  It fell to the secretary, John Macadam, to defend the actions of the Royal Society. It was not a difficult task. He was asked 118 questions, most phrased in the most deferential of terms. Macadam argued that Burke was given ‘a wide discretion to do as he pleased’. His only specific order was to form a supply depot on Cooper Creek and establish a line of communication back to Melbourne. Since this command had been disobeyed, the committee could take no further responsibility for subsequent events. Macadam then insisted that Burke had been expected to take the hired wagons as far as the Cooper, so the whole party could stay together. He neglected to mention the repeated threats to Burke over escalating transport costs, and he failed to explain how the committee expected twenty-one tonnes of supplies to be transported with just a handful of horses and camels.

  The inquiry moved on: why had the committee not acted sooner to confirm William Wright’s appointment and send up sufficient funds so that he could mobilise his back-up party at once? In the absence of any conflicting testimony, Macadam maintained that the committee had no idea any action was required until Hodgkinson galloped into town at the end of December with the ‘startling news’ that Wright was still in Menindee. But what about Burke’s dispatch from Torowoto, which referred to Wright’s appointment? It arrived in Melbourne on 3 December. Why did the committee do nothing then? Macadam argued that it assumed Wright would have considered himself third-in-command because Burke had appointed him to the position. Further confirmation was unnecessary. It also believed Wright would start for the Cooper at once, so any further instructions would have been unlikely to reach him in time. Again, the explanations stood unchallenged. Macadam stepped down.

  William Brahe was next on the stand. He faced a total of 279 questions. Almost all of them were based on the assumption that he had recklessly abandoned his post and left his leader to die in the desert. Alfred Howitt had already defended Brahe in public, even stating that, in similar circumstances, ‘I feel that I could have left Mr Brahe in charge during my absence with perfect confidence.’ This support was ignored as the commissioners began their interrogation. They were looking for explanations to five critical issues:

  What were Burke’s intentions when he left Cooper Creek?

  What instructions did Burke give to Brahe before he left the depot?

  Why did Brahe choose to abandon his camp when he did?

  Why did Brahe return to the Dig Tree with Wright?

  Why did neither Brahe nor Wright notice that someone had been back and disturbed the cache?

  The first question was the hardest to answer because Burke had flirted with so many conflicting plans that none of his men ever knew what was to happen next. No one from the Royal Society was prepared to admit that, right from the beginning, there was a plan to split the expedition in two once it reached the Cooper. The secret plot to divide the party and release Burke to sprint for the north coast was never addressed during the commission hearings. With both its leaders dead, the Exploration Committee was content to blame Burke for breaking up the expedition.

  Brahe found himself in an impossible situation. There were so many important issues that Burke had never made clear. Had he ever intended to send back horses and camels to help Wright bring up the supplies? Had he ever considered spending the summer on the Cooper to give Wright a chance to catch up?

  On the stand, the young German did his best. He pointed out that since Burke failed to keep a diary or issue written instructions, he could not say for sure what his leader’s exact intentions were—but his understanding was that Wright would be ‘up directly’ with more supplies. Brahe vehemently rejected the accusation that he had abandoned his post and his leader. He argued over and over that he had no choice but to retreat if he was to save the lives of his three men. He truly believed that, once the three months were up, there was no chance that Burke would return. Brahe thought his leader was almost certainly dead by that stage—if he was still alive, he was probably heading for Queensland.

  But Brahe’s arguments showed cracks under the pressure. If he was so sure Burke would not return to the depot, why did he bother to leave a cache of food, or such an absurdly positive note stating his men and animals were in ‘good condition’? Brahe asserted that the note and the supplies were not for Burke at all. They were for any rescue party that might come looking for them and the note was designed to prevent any unnecessary alarm. The explanation sounded hollow. Brahe stepped down, his credibility damaged.

  The next morning, the commission produced its trump card—Wills’ last letter. It stated that Brahe had promised not to leave the depot except ‘from absolute necessity’. These were the words of a man dying alone in the desert and Brahe was no match for their emotional force:

  Question: Would not it have struck yourself that you should not have moved from the depot except from absolute necessity?

  Brahe: Certainly not.

  Question: Did you conceive that an absolute necessity had arisen?

  Brahe: Not exactly an absolute necessity. The time Mr Burke gave me was three months; he said after three months time I had no reason to expect him back, nor did I; I did not expect him back; but I might have stopped longer, and then used up those provisions I was able to bury.

  Brahe had backed himself into a corner. If he was so convinced Burke had gone to Queensland, why did he go back to the cache with William Wright? ‘Had you a lingering suspicion he might be there?’ inquired the commission. �
��Yes,’ admitted Brahe, ‘there was still a chance.’

  The next witness was Thomas McDonough. Clearly bitter about the death of his friend Burke, he seemed determined to settle a couple of scores. Branding the relief party ‘very disorganised’, McDonough said Wright never had any intention of rescuing Burke because he believed the Irishman had ‘rushed madly on depending only on surface water’, and was either dead or lost in the desert. McDonough then turned on Hermann Beckler, suggesting that he had starved William Patten to death because he couldn’t be bothered to prepare proper meals. Even the journalists were stunned. Having provided them with their headlines for the next day, McDonough retired.

  Next on the stand was Menindee’s postmaster, Edmund Wecker. His evidence was crucial to one important issue. Wright had always insisted that, as well as forwarding Burke’s dispatches when he returned to Menindee on 8 November 1860, he also mailed a letter of his own asking the committee to confirm his appointment. Was this letter ever sent and was it subsequently ignored by the Exploration Committee?

  Wecker stated he was ‘pretty sure’ that Wright had sent a letter addressed to the secretary of the Exploration Committee and that it was in a separate envelope to Burke’s dispatches. He then proceeded to embarrass the Royal Society by describing the spate of bounced cheques that had resulted in credit being refused to the expedition. Warming to his subject, Wecker speculated that this might have been why Wright was so keen to receive his confirmation—otherwise he might never have been paid!

  John Macadam stormed back to the witness stand. He was certain that no letter had ever been received from William Wright on 3 December and the only information the committee had to act upon was contained in Burke’s Torowoto dispatch. The secretary defended the decision to send Trooper Lyons galloping after the main expedition. The commissioners did not ask him why reports of John McDouall Stuart’s failure were reason enough to chase after Burke—yet the news that an unknown station manager was in charge of half the expedition was not worthy of any action. As Macadam completed his explanation, there was a mood of expectation in the hall. Everyone was anxious to move on to the next witness.

  After several delays due to illness, John King took the stand on 5 December. His opinions on the expedition seem to have shifted now he was surrounded by the might and power of the Royal Society, and he began to insinuate that Brahe and Wright were to blame for the tragedy. Much of his evidence was so circumspect that it was suggested in the press that he had been thoroughly coached before the inquiry started.

  One other factor dominated King’s testimony—his complete loyalty to Burke. While Wills’ diary hinted that the Irishman’s frustration had sometimes boiled over into anger, especially in the expedition’s final days, King was careful never to mention any discord or violence. But, as the questioning began, it became clear that not even King’s blind allegiance was enough to disguise Burke’s shortcomings in organisation and communication.

  Asked if he knew anything about Wright’s engagement, King replied that he had ‘heard a rumour that Wright had been appointed an officer’, but he was ‘never told formally’. The explorer declared again and again that he had never been privy to any detailed plans regarding the forward or back-up parties, then contradicted himself by stating that he was sure Burke never intended to head for Queensland and had always planned to return to the Cooper. Was it just coincidence that King was certain on the one point that was most damaging to William Brahe?

  For several hours, he picked his way painfully through the story of the journey to the Gulf and then described the terrible disappointment of arriving back at the deserted depot. When asked about Brahe’s actions, an undercurrent of recrimination infiltrated King’s testimony. It was as if he wanted to shout, ‘You lost faith in us. You abandoned your post. You should have believed it was possible for us to return.’ The commissioners had no hesitation in reinforcing the sentiment:

  Question: Suppose he [Burke] had been away five months he would still have expected to find them there?

  King: Yes, we should still have expected to find the party there. Mr Burke said they should have remained at any risk.

  King completed his evidence by recounting a conversation he had with his leader just before he died. ‘King,’ Burke allegedly said, ‘this is nice treatment after fulfilling our task, to arrive where we left our companions and where we had every right to expect them.’ This testimony completed an indelible image of Burke as the brave adventurer, who had crossed the continent on his white horse and been abandoned in his hour of greatest need. Someone must be punished.

  Ferdinand Mueller was determined not to be that person. Despite playing a major role in the early organisation of the expedition, the botanist said he doubted if he could help much, as he had been ill or travelling when most of the arrangements had been made. He faced just twenty-six questions and retired unscathed.

  The day’s final witness precipitated a rush for seats in the public gallery. After haggling with the Royal Society over his travelling expenses, William Wright had arrived from Adelaide. He faced a hostile and sometimes savage inquisition. The commissioners believed Wright was guilty. Now they set out to prove it. Their principal accusation was that his failure to rejoin the main party contributed directly to Burke’s death. Wright defended himself with at least ten reasons why he hadn’t left Menindee sooner:

  I did not have enough horses and camels to carry the stores.

  I did not have enough packsaddles.

  I was waiting for confirmation of my appointment and my orders.

  I did not have any financial means until my appointment was recognised.

  I had to wait for the return of Trooper Lyons.

  I was waiting for horses and camels to be sent down either with Brahe or Lyons.

  I was worried I would not get paid.

  I had to safeguard my family.

  Once I got authorisation I had to buy and train the horses, jerk the meat and get the expedition together.

  I was waiting for another surveyor and a back-up party to come up from the city.

  There was some validity to these explanations, and Wright was justified in pointing out that he had neither the transport nor the financial means to mount a proper relief expedition. He had made a solid start to his defence so the commissioners changed tack. What was Wright doing in Menindee while Burke was dying in the desert? Was he ‘merely looking after the stock’? they inquired. ‘Yes,’ replied Wright, ‘merely looking after the stock.’ Sensing a small victory the commissioners adjourned for the day.

  When the inquiry reconvened two days later, Sir William Stawell swept into the room and the tone of the proceedings altered. ‘Possibly Your Honour would be kind enough to make a statement with regard to the general management of the expedition, the instructions that were issued, and the intentions of the committee,’ Sir Francis Murphy asked in deferential tones. Stawell agreed that possibly he would.

  The chief justice’s statements were fluent and consistent. Thoroughly at home in the courtroom, his strategy was to dismiss the commissioners’ concerns as inconsequential. He backed Macadam’s view that Burke’s only obligation was to form a depot at the Cooper. From then on he was free to choose both his route and his staff. ‘The Exploration Committee,’ said Stawell, ‘considered that Mr Burke had full authority to engage Mr Wright or anyone else who was necessary…this question of confirmation always seemed a mere afterthought.’

  What about Becker and Beckler’s repeated pleas for help from the Darling—why did the committee not respond to them? Wasn’t it obvious, replied Stawell, they were dispatches ‘merely enclosing some sketches’, and since they were not from the expedition leader himself, they were not considered important enough for the committee to discuss.

  But what about the bouncing cheques—didn’t the committee take some responsibility for the expedition’s financial troubles? Stawell conceded there were minor problems with ‘some very trifling drafts’ but he expressed surprise
that anyone should be so petty as to worry about ‘the veriest of trifles’. ‘The commission is much obliged to you, Sir William,’ announced the chairman, Sir Thomas Pratt, and the chief justice departed.

  The proceedings livened up once more when George Landells appeared. Shunned by most of Melbourne as a deserter, Landells saw the inquiry as a way of setting the record straight. His character, he said, had been ‘traduced’. He stalked into the hearing and demanded the right to call witnesses of his own. This was, of course, out of the question. Landells was furious: ‘I am to understand that justice is not to be had. The doors of the Royal Society have been shut against me.’ And with that he flounced out of the hearing.

  As the inquiry drew to a close, the pressure mounted on William Wright. The commissioners decided to return to the question of his delay in leaving Menindee, and recalled him. If Wright thought his long list of justifications had strengthened his case, he was wrong. The commissioners insisted that he provide a single reason.

  ‘The only answer I can give is the answer I have already given,’ he faltered.

  ‘You perfectly understand the question?’ sneered Sir Francis Murphy.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I intended to stop at Menindee until my appointment was confirmed.’

  ‘We have not the slightest evidence of that.’

  ‘Another reason was my waiting for Lyons and MacPherson.’

  ‘You strictly adhere to that statement that you would under any circumstances have stayed at Menindee until your appointment was confirmed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You state distinctly you would not have started?’