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DIGITIZED BY PETER KILLACKEY
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MACQUARIE HARBOUR - HELL'S GATES |
Like the Bastile of Paris, the Macquarie Harbour of Van Diemen's Land was associated with all that is revolting in crime and terrible in punishment. Hells Gates, as its entrance was called, were first passed by Captain Kelly, in the service of Mr. Birch, a Hobart Town merchant, in 1816. The inlet received the name of the New South Wales Governor, and an island that of Sarah, from the name of the merchant's wife, the present Mrs. Edmund Hodgson. The reward of Mr. Birch's enterprise was one year's monopoly of the pine trade.
The harbour is on the western side of the island. The ever-rushing westerly breezes easily carry the mariner in-wards, but oppose an obstinate resistance to his exit. The shores are rocky and gloomy, and the almost perpetual rains add no cheerfullness to the atmosphere. King's River is the northern tributary, and, at a distance of nearly thirty miles southward, the harbour receives the hurrying waters of the noble Gordon. The waters were dark, turbulent, and heavy, impregnated with noxious gases from the decomposing vegetation of this humid region; the fish would pass the Gates only to inhale the breath of death. The scenery is wild and repulsive, and the soil hopelessly barren. The cathedral-pinnacled sandstone ranges rise against the more sombre and rounded hills of the state, while the quartzose sea cliffs glare painfully into the sun. The stern front of Mount Direction closes the harbour; The Frenchman's snowy cap, with the vast greenstone plateau of the lake country, bound it on the eastern side; and in the northern horizon are the two grim summits of Heemskirk and Zeehaarn. The hills are scantily covered with a course, wiry grass; the gullies are either choked with tangled brush, or as a fairy scene, adorned with the umbrageuos and elegant Fern tree. The beautifully marked Pine, running one hundred feet high and twenty feet round, with its dark and graceful horizontal branches, is a striking botannical feature. The gum, Stringy Bark, and Lightwood trees are of amazing size in a district so overloaded with moisture. The Zieria or Stink-wood, enliven the bush with its white flowers; but it is rivalled in sunny blossoms by the rigid leaved Tea-tree. The scrub is almost impracticable on the steep banks of the mountain streams.
Separated from the settled parts of the colony by impervious forests, rapid rivers, dangerous marshes, ans almost inaccessable acclivities, and reached only at sea by a tempest-tost voyage along an iron-bound coast, the locality seemed a fitting Tartarus for the worst of criminals. Those defiant and irreclaimable ones who fester society with their presence might there be safely confided to the guardian-ship of forbidding nature. Gpvernor Sorrell resolved to establush a penal settlement at Macquarie Harbour, and appointed Lieutenant Cuthbertson, of the 48th, commandant, in December 1821, he was accidentally drowned two years after. He was succeeded by Lieutenant Wright, of the third; the third officer was Captain Butler, of the 40th, in 1824; and fourth, Captain Briggs, of the 63rd, in 1830. Here it is determined to organise a system of terror. Unwatched by the vigilance of the tale-telling press, unrestrained by the voice of clergymen or messengers of mercy, well provided with appliances of coercion and punishment, without one hopeful avenue of escape, it was possible to concentrate horrors, and, if not reform the wretches sent there, inflict the greatest tortures. As an old journalist said, "It was thought that the voice of woe and cry of misery would not float in its humid atmosphere." Mr. West thus describes it: "Sacred to the genius of turture, nature concurred with the objects of its separation from the rest of the world, to exhibit some notion of a perfect misery. There, man lost the aspect and the heart of man."
Upon Sarah Island, three miles from the mouth of the Gordon, a rock half a mile long by one quarter wide, the head-quarters were established. The prisoners' barracks consisted of a large two-story building; the gaol, with its dark narrow, noisome cells, was an object of terror to the most hardened. The jingling of chains, the reverberations of blasphemous oaths, the sharp ringing of some sudden shriek of agony, mingle with the more disgusting sounds of savage mirth and brutal jesting. The convict dead were interred upon Halliday's Island, so called from the man first buried. A post, with rudely engraved initials, marked the rest of a troubled one. The free were provided with a last home on Settlement Island; Lieutenant Cuthbertson was buried there. About a quarter of a mile from this settlement Island was a small rock, called Grummet or Pilot Island. Here cells were excavated for the reception of such incorrigibles as were unsubdued by the bastile of the harbour. Conveyed in a boat to within a few yards of the rock, the doomed man had to wade through the surf with his provisions, to clamber up into one of those comfortless recesses, and was left for days and weeks to add his yell to the sea birds scream, and the dreary moan of the western wind. Whenever the waters were rough the cold spray washed over the rock and drenched the hapless captive.
The labours of the 300 or 400 men were chiefly confined to construction of their prison homes, the building of the vessels, and the cutting of timber for the Hobart Town market. The value of their work was estimated at about their maintenance. Piercing the thorny thicket, saturated by the wet foliages, they entered the forest, felled the trees, and carried the massive burden upon their shoulders along the tortuous and rocky path. Occasionally a tree buried some in its fall. A false step or weakness of any of the carrying party would expose the line to bruised bodies and fractured limbs.
The grain of that beautiful timber, now adorning the drawing-room chambers of our Australian colonists, may be said to be marked with tears of blood from the poor convict woodcutter. Rafts of 100 logs each were taken to the Settlement, and thence conveyed in ships; the heavy timber that would not float was attached to boats. Their breakfast was of flour and water; no midday meal was prepared. At the close of their daily toil they were conveyed to their island gaol, and a more substantial repast afforded. But the double twisted and knotted cords applied to the excoriated back lashed forth the usual evening music. The brutality and injustice of convict overseers were the chief cause of such inflictions, and the exciting motive to escape from the cruelties of man to the heartlessness and horrors of surrounding natives.
That the punishment was rigorous enough, and life unendurable, the records of the Settlement furnish abundant proofs. Of eighty-five deaths only thurty were from natural causes. In three years, two-thirds of the felon residents had received 6,280 lashes; but in the dreadful seaon of 1822 out of 182 men 169 were punished to the frightful amount of 7,000 lashes. During the ten years of occupancy 112 men had the hardhood to elope; of these 62 perished. At one period 350 were at the station. If anything could possibly add to the sufferings at Macquarie Harbour, beyond the venom of self-reproach, and the life of cruel servitude and tyranny, it was the wretched treatment of each other. Too degraded to sympathise with sorrow, too persecuted to temporise with feeling, they deadened their nature to every appeal of intellect or moral sentiment, and cursed alike their fellows, themselves, and their God. Priding themselves upon stoicism in receiving punishment, and indifferent to the continuance of their existence, they cared for nothing.
When we remember that these slaves of ill-governed passions were thrust in herds of misery and vice, without one redeeming feature in their circumstances, one solitary expression of kindness, we wonder not at the phrase of The Hell of Macquarie Harbour. We are not astonished to hear of men, anxious for some change, however dreadful, tossing up for life. The gambling was to determine who was to be murdered, who was to be the murderer, and who were the witnesses. The blow would be struck, one sufferer would be released from Hell, one would be hanged, and two or three would exchange for a few weeks the pine shore of one prison for the stone floor of the Hobart Town Gaol.
The place was wholly destitute of moral agencies. As an illustration, we have the statement of Mesrs. Backhouse and Walker, that four women were sent down to the head of the Harbour, to help a man collect shells for lime burning, and it never once entered the head of the authorities to provide even a separate hut for their accommodation. When the first appointed minister of religion arrived at the settlement, he saw the hopelessness of his task. The chief officers were living in open and shameless concubinage with the convict women. They refused to assume even the shadow of propriety in their conduct, and the heart-sick man of God was compelled to abandon the Pandemonium. It might be thought that such discgraceful libertinism, such reckless ferocity, such unmitigatable severity, would raise an open insurrection, and that in so bloody a struggle the slaves, or the slave-drivers, would be exterminated. But the men were too subjected, not only by strong coercive measures, but by a system of espionage among themselves. As one of the old Harbour residents wrote,--"Treachery was the stepping-stone to preferment. Perjury divided comrades,--sending one to liberty, the other to the scaffold."
And yet these same monsters of crime were not utterly unapproachable by kindness. Dr Chalmers beautifully says, "Fallen as a brother may be from the moralities which at one time adorned him, the manifested good-will of his fellow men still carries a charm and an influence along with it, and there lies in this an operation, which, as no poverty can vitiate, so no depravity can extinguish." A Tasmanian writer, Mr. Maitland Innes, wrote thus of these poor creatures, some fifteen years ago: "Their apparent hardness of heart is not always the native hardness of the rock, but more often the frozen hardness of the ice, which the sun of human sympathy may melt again."
"The tainted branches of the tree,
If lopped with care, a strength may give,
By which the rest shall bloom and live,
All greenly fresh and wildly free;
But if the lightning in its wrath
The waving boughs with fury scathe,
The massy trunk the ruin feels,
And never more a leaf reveals."
This was practically illustrated with the prisoners at Macquarie Harbour. Once no gentle voice was raised on their behalf, or breathed peace to their dispairing soul. A messenger of mercy arrived in 1829. The Rev. W. Scholefield, afterwards the first missionary among the Port Phillip Aborigines was the first minister who had quarters on the Western Harbour. For awhile, he was so overwhelmed with horror at what he saw and heard, that he would doubtless have returned, like the other, had he not found in one of the officers, the Assistant-Commissary Lempriere, a friend and a Christian. A school was opened, and many were taught to read. Divine service was held, and the name of God was respected. Private entreaty was employed, and hardened men shed tears. The oppressed had a shield and refuge, and the distressed a sympathising brother and pastor. The immediate influence was most gratifying; it was the fall of dew upon the seared and drooping plant. The convictions, the lashes, the cell entombment, fell off one half. Some, who had dared the very Almighty in their impiety, and had cherished a quenchless hate for man, were beheld weeping in prayer, softened and subdued. The Quaker missionaries visited the settlement early in 1832, when the Rev. John Manton was the catechist. They added their testimony to the fruits of gentle suasion. Some of the Christianised prisoners told them that, since the change in their own natures, the very place had changed in their eyes, and ceased to wear the gloom by which it was formerly overscast. One poor man, who was indulged in a little liberty for good conduct, took the two Friends to a cave which he had hollowed out,--in which, without molestation, he might read the Scriptures and pray to his God. The writer of this narrative was once acquainted with a successful and consistent teacher of religion, who first reeived his conceptions of pious duty in the prison-house of Macquarie Harbour.
But the principal association with this western settlement is the wonderful escapes, attempted or achieved. In 1822, Pierce and his fellow cannibals eloped. In the same year, Green and Sanders bolted, and were never heard of again; so with six others; then with eight more. In 1824, three siezed the soldiers' boat and arms, but were overcome. In 1826, James Lacy and others killed Rex, a constable, took to the bush, were recovered and were executed. Similar stories can be told of many others; as before stated, 62 of 112 runaways were known to have perished. We shall have occasion to refer to several felon worthies, who removed from Macquarie Harbour. But the most interesting escape was that on the way to Hobart Town to the Harbour, in the vessel "Cyprus.," August 9, 1829. The particulars are gethered from the "Colonial Times," and are referred to by Messrs. West and Melville.
The "Cyprus" with thirty-one prisoners, under the charge of Lieutenant Carew, and ten soldiers, called at Recherche Bay, DÉntrecasteaux Channel, on her way to Macquarie Harbour. Among the chained captives, was the notorious Swallow, once a seaman who received sentence of transportation for the same offence. On the way out, he contrived to save the ship in a storm, at the hazard of his life. This act procured some indulgence, and on the arrival of the vessel at Hobart Town, Swallow was not to be found. He had been secreted by the sailors, and the ship sailed away with him. On the return voyage, he was discovered, landed at Rio, and given up to the authorities. These took such care of him, that he was soon among his old aquaintances of Wapping, London. Again discovered, he was more securely forwarded to Van Diemen's Land, and, at the time of our story, was en route for Hell's Gates. While the "Cyprus" lay anchored in the channel, Lieutenant Carew, and the surgeon, with one soldier and a convict, went out in a boat fishing. A few men at a time were allowed to come upon deck for air and exercise. Those brought up during the absence of the officer, were Walker, Pennel, McKan, Jones, Ferguson, and a carpenter who was not doubly ironed like the rest. Ferguson called them together and said "Now is your time; six opportunities of escape you suffered to pass unnoticed. If you take no advantage of this occasion, I will tell of your plots before." They all agreed. Two sentinels were idly looking about them; these were immediately knocked down, and one had his head cut in four places. A rush to the hatchway secured the military from coming up, while the other prisoners were brought about deck. The captain and soldiers fired without effect. Boiling water was poured down upon them, and a kettle of lighted pitch was promised if they did not surrender. The arms were passed up, after the priming had been wetted; the men came up one by one, and the liberty of the convicts secured.
The firing brought the lieutenant back to the "Cyprus." A gun presented at his head, missed fire from the damped powder. He promised the insurgents that, if they would give up the ship, no notice should be taken of their misconduct. But his entreaties were useless. The soldiers were put in a boat, with thirteen prisoners who would not join the mutineers,--and, accompanied by an armed boat, were landed at different points of the coast. Mrs. Carew and her children were also put ashore, but were not allowed to carry baggage. The land party received 60 lbs. of biscuit, 20 lbs. of flour, 20 lbs. of sugar, 4 lbs. of tea, and 6 gallons of rum. The boats were all secured, in case the ship should be wind-bound, and unable to get to sea. The ousted party suffered considerably from want of food. Two men set off overland for Hobart Town, as no boat remained; they were driven back by hostile natives. Five attempted to head the Huon river; after great suffering, they were succoured by a relief party. One Morgan, and Popjoy a convict, resolved to make a boat without tools. Collecting some wattle suckers, they framed a wicker-work craft, twelve feet in length. This was covered in hammock-cloth,--and, to keep out of the water, boiled soap and resin were poured over all. Thirteen days had passed,--the last two without food. The primitive-looking boat was launched, and at a distance of twenty miles, the "Oxelia" was hailed, which brought all safely to Hobart Town. Lieutenant Carew was tried for negligence, but acquitted by the court martial.
In the meantime, the seventeen mutineers had pressed Brown, one of the sailors, to go with them; they had nominated Walker as captain, Jones as mate, and Ferguson, dressed up in Carew's best uniform, as lieutenant. In a good ship, with six months provisions on board for 400 men, the captors gave three hearty cheers, at five o'clock on the Sunday morning, spread their sails, and were soon far away on the southern ocean. Steering first for the Friendly Isles, they came to Japan, where seven deserted; the rest went on to China. There, Swallow, and three others, appeared before the English merchants as ship-wrecked mariners of the "Edward," having siezed a boat with that name on its stern. Swallow personated Captain Waldron, and exhibited a sextant having that name engraved upon it. Their sufferings were pitied, and a free passage home to England obtained for them. Four others presented themselves, a few days after, with a similar tale,--they belonged to the ship "Edward." Unfortunately, they had forgotten the name of the captain, and said Wilson for Waldron. This was an unfortunate mistake, and excited suspicion. Ultimately, the whole were brought before the Thames Street Police Office, London. The magistrate perplexed, and knew not what to do, as there was no criminating evidence. The clerk of the court addressed the Bench, and brought to their recollection a curious tale lately told to their Worships, and with circumstances of which the prisoners might be associated. A man named Popjoy had been brought up for some trifling offence in the London streets, and had greatly interested the magistrates with an account of the capture of the "Cyprus," and of the praiseworthy part which he took in the affair, and for which he had obtained his pardon and a free passage home. It so happened, also, that Mr. Capon, the Hobart Town Gaoler, was in London at the time,--and, when confronted with the men, recognised several as old Van Diemen's Land acquaintances. Watts and Davis suffered in London, and several were sent to Hobart Town for trial; one only was executed there. Swallow died at the penal settlement of Port Arthur.
In 1833, it was arranged that Macquarie Harbour should be abandoned, from the difficulty of maintaining connection with the place. But the last story of this wonderful locality, the record of its abandonment, is one also of another ship seizure and escape. The "Frederick," Captain Taw, was sent to fetch away the last of the stores and men. Everything was ready for departure; there were Mr. Hoy, mate, ten prisoners, and a corporal's guard. The convicts had been allowed to go ashore to wash their clothes before leaving; they returned on board with their plans formed. Two soldiers were absent fishing, and two were sentinels on deck. The rest of the narrative we give in the language of the men, while laying under sentence of death in Hobart Town.
"About half-past three, P.M., we returned on board the brig, and after securing the whale-boat alongside, we all went into the forecastle, and there remained until we had our supper; during this time two of the soldiers (a private and a corporal) and a prisoner took the whale-boat and went fishing; there only remained on board the captain, Mr. Hoy, and his servant, who were in the cabin, and the mate and two soldiers, who were upon deck. I had not been down to the forecastle many minutes before I was asked to sing a song, I did so, and one of the soldiers came below to listen to it; before I had finished, James lesly, William Cheshire, Benjamin Russen, John Fair, and John Barker, succeeded in getting on deck without the soldiers taking any particular notice of them; William Cheshire then went down to the aft deck and passed the muskets up to his companions, who were ready to recieve them, securing also at the same time the mate and the soldier; one of the prisoners who was on deck came down the forecastle and touched the toe of William Shiers, who instantly preented his fist at the soldier, who was down with us, and Charles Lyons, assisted by John Riley, caught hold of him and made him fast; William Shiers then rushed upon deck, and Charles Lyons, leaving the soldier in charge of Riley, followed after him, when the forecastle hatch was immediately shut down; I went to the hatchway and endeavoured to force it up, when it suddenly opened, and down came the other soldier with the mate and prisoners, upon which I got upon deck, Riley and Jones following me; Fair ordered me to stand upon the forecastle hatch; I had not remained there more than a minute, when Í observed William Shiers make a rush for the cabin deck, lesly and Russen standing by the companion ladder, each being armed with a musket, to prevent those in the cabin from coming upon deck, for the captain and Mr. Hoy defended themselves with astonishing courage. Captain Taw endeavoured to force his way upon deck, but was repulsed by the two men, Lesly and Russen, after which all was silent for a short time. William Cheshire went to the skylight and lifted it off, exclaiming "There they are;" at those words four muskets were presented down the skylight, and I heard the report of two of them; the persons who presented the muskets down in the cabin, were John Barker, John Fair, James Lesly, and Benjamin Russen; the moment the muskets fired, William Shiers rushed to the skylight, exclaiming "What are you about, are you going to commit murder?" they said "No;" he replied, "It can be done without." He then called to the captain and Mr. Hoy, and asked them if they would deliver themselves up; Mr. Hoy replied "Yes, we will if you are not disposed to injure us." Shiers replied, "My life shall be the forfeit if we do, we only want our liberty." They then came upon deck, and Mr. Hoy directing his discourse to John Barker, said, "Who is to be captain of the brig now you have her in your possession?" "I am," replied John Barker, "and with the assistance of the men, I can navigate round the world." Mr. Hoy then said, "deluded men, I will now declare before my God, upon the bible, that upon condition of your giving up the brig, I will not mention it when I reach head-quarters, but will give all good characters." Barker then made answer "We have the brig in our possession and we shall keep her, so it is needless for you to mention further about it, for it is liberty we require." Shiers and Barker then asked the captain and Mr. Hoy if there was anything in their boxes which they required?--they answered "Yes;" they then went into the cabin, where they were allowed to take what they thought proper. Mr. Hoy also asked for his brace of pocket pistols, but those were refused him. There were in the cabin two bottles of wine, which I think was all the wine on board; those were given to Mr. Hoy, also his large pea-coat to keep him warm on the shore, as he had been indisposed; there was also about half-a-gallon of rum in the cabin, and one bottle of that was given to Captain Taw, they had then all they asked for, and returned on deck, when William Cheshire bound Captain Taw's hands with a fathom of spun-yarn.
Meantime, a musket was fired over the stern of the brig as a signal for those in the whale-boat to come alongside, and we soon percieved them pulling towards us. During this time Captain Taw, Mr. Hoy, his servant, the mate and two soldiers, were put into the jolly-boat alongside the brig, and in a few minutes the whale boat came alongside, and then the two soldiers and the prisoners who were in her, were ordered out of her into the jolly-boat, where the captain, Mr. Hoy, and the others, already were, they being nine in number. The whale-boat was then manned by seven of the mutineers, two pulling and one steering her, the other four armed with muskets formed a guard, in case of Mr. Taw and the others attempting to rescue themselves, whilst two soldiers rowed the jolly-boat to the shore, and on reaching it, Captain Taw and the rest were ordered to land, and push the jolly-boat as far as they could towards the whale-boat, when we took her in tow and brought her alongside the brig; the boats were then secured astern, and it being dark, a strict watch was kept for fear the captain should attempt to rescue the vessel from us. At break of day every man was upon deck, and we consulted among ourselves concerning the part of the provisions, between those that were on the shore, and those on board, when Shiers said said "Do not let our affair be like that of the Cpress, to leave them to starve; my proposal is to share the provisions with them as nearly as possible, for there are nine of them and ten of us, and let us trust to Providence, and it will also be the means of preventing them from saying, when they reach head-quarters, that we have used them cruelly, or in a dishonourable manner." They consented to his proposal, and the provisions were brought upon deck. The pieces of meat were divided as nearly as possible, also a good portion of tea, sugar, flour and biscuit, and a live goat; they were all put into the whale-boat, and Shiers took with him another pair of shoes, and bandages, and plaster, for Mr. Hoy, thinking they might be useful to him, and rowed to the shore, and called to Mr. Hoy to bring two men with him to carry the provisions, three men standing in the whale-boat armed with muskets, to prevent those on shore from rushing upon the boat. After they had received the provisions, Mr. Hoy then expressed himself:--"Men, I did not for one moment expect such kind treatment from you, regarding the provisions you have now brought on shore for us out of so little that was on board. When I consider also your present undertaking, without a competent navigator, and in a leaky vessel, your situation seems most perilous, therefore I hope God will be kind to you, and protect you from the manifold dangers which you may have to encounter on the wide ocean." The soldiers also cheered them on their departure, wishing they might be prosperous, on account of their kindness and humanity, in parting the provisions with them; the convicts then thanked Mr. Hoy for his prayer on their behalf, and the soldiers for their kind wishes and bid adieu to them all and returned on board the brig."
The narrative proceeds to state that John Barker was chosen as captain, John Fair as first mate, and Lyons as second. The weather was so boisterous that two men were required at the helm, and four beside the captain were laid by from the violence of sea-sickness. For nearly a fortnight the captain could not come on deck to take the sun, but he assured the crew that he could take them safely to South America by merely keeping a dead reckoning. They had left Macquarie Harbour on January 11th, 1834 and then made the Chillian coast in six weeks. The leaky brig was abandoned for the launch, and they occasionally landed to procure shell-fish for food. One morning they suprised a seal napping; the skin was nailed over a rent in the boat, and the flippers, heart, and liver were cooked for breakfast. They shared their meals with a large cat they had brought from the ship. Day after day did they search along shore for a port and civilazation. A joyous change came at last.
"We suddenly heard the bellowing of a bullock on shore; all of us in the boat were instantly as silent as the grave; not an individual could be heard to breathe, as we listened intently that we might again hear the welcome sound, fearful that our ears had deceived us. We however, shortly after heard it again, intermingled with the sound of a human voice; this was the most cheering sound any of us had heard for many, many days, and caused us much satisfaction."
They landed among some Indians, and proceeded thence mine miles to Valdivia. Brought before a judge they gave a full account of their escape, and the names they bore in Van Diemen's Land. Being asked why they came to Chile, they declared, "Because we knew you were patriots, and had long ago declared your independence." They were kindly treated, but forwarded to the prison. Barker said to the Governor of the town, "If you should meditate delivering us up to the British Government, I pray that you would rather do what would be a comparative act of charity, and give orders that we should all be shot dead in the Palace square." The Governor shed tears at the account of their sufferings, and said, "My poor men, do not think that I would take that advantage of you; do not make an attempt to escape, and I will be your friend." They lived at Valdivia two months, subsisting by honest industry, when the English frigate "Blonde," Captain Mason, entered the port. Their fears were excited, but no attempt was made upon their liberty. Barker now married into a respectable family, and the Governor and his lady danced at the wedding. Four others entered the happy state of matrimony.
Their good friend the Governor was succeeded by one of a more morose nature. Fair and two others now left the place. The new Governor commenced his tyranny. Barker offered to make a fine boat for him. The trap succeeded. The boat was built, rigged, and provisioned, and Barkerm Lesly, and Russen disappeared in her. The displeasure of the disappointed Governor fell upon the remaining four prisoners, who were delivered up, at the close of 1836, to the "Blonde," frigate, and conveyed to London. They were afterwards forwarded for trial to Van Diemen's Land. The narrative thus closes:--
"We were all found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged; but which we have every reason to believe will be commuted to transportation to life. And our case has gone home for the opinion of the English Judges.
Gaol, Hobart, 1st November, 1837."
The plea put in by these unfortunate men was, that they were not guilty of piratically seizing the brig "Frederick," seeing that the brig had been built at Macquarie Harbour, and had not been legally entered. The English Judges admitted the plea, and the poor fellows were merely found guilty of theft, and so saved from the gallows.
One who visited Macquarie Harbour after an interval of twenty years, went in pilgrimage over the scenes, formerly so fearfully active with life. He saw the old roofless Barracks, and walked over the prisoners' tombs, and the deserted garden of the commondant. The stone walls of the gaol gave forth a damp and noxious smell. The cells' floors were strewn with bones and rubbish, and upon their pine doors were several well executed drawings. The very planks were studded with initials and devices, which told of sorrows past. Thank God! the miseries of Macquarie Harbour are over and gone. They belong to an age of comparative barbarism in the treatment of criminals. A better day has dawned, in which the bodily comfort of the prisoner is regarded, and the wants of his moral nature are supplied.
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