ADDRESS.
At our first meeting I took occasion to lay before you a few observations, which a leisure hour had allowed me to put together, for your guidance during the present voyage; and I fondly indulged the hope that they might awaken in your minds the principles of virtue, which a longer or a shorter career in the devious paths of vice had suffered to slumber too long. Since that time, many eventful circumstances have occurred to produce in my mind reflections of a very serious nature, which, as they tend to strengthen and improve every estimable virtue, it may not be quite unprofitable to myself or you to give a sketch of.
Many of the observations, which I now intend to offer to your consideration, have arisen out of your own behaviour; while the remainder owe their existence to a lively feeling of humility in my own breast, and of dependence upon the Author of all good, lately elicited by a sick bed. I refrain from adverting to the cause of my recent illness, because I am unwilling to give any of you unnecessary pain even for a moment, and because your behaviour since that time convinces me, that most of you are sorry for the error you then so thoughtlessly committed[[15]]. On a sick bed the mind is forcibly led to the contemplation of a future state; and a question, of the first degree of importance, will very frequently present itself to the languishing sufferer, which, if I may judge from my own feelings, he will find extremely difficult, if not quite impossible, to get rid of, unless the actions of his past life furnish him with an answer. The question, as it forced itself upon my mind, is this—“Should it please Heaven to remove me from this sinful world, what is to be my lot in the next?” I here take it for granted that you all truly believe in a future state beyond the grave, and in a just God who will punish the wicked and reward the righteous. Indeed, I think it would be a mere waste of words and time to urge any arguments on this subject; for there is no fact, either moral or physical, of which I am more firmly convinced than this, that there is not a human being this day living, who in his heart sincerely doubts the existence of an all-protecting Deity. Although the contrary of this has sometimes been asserted by learned men, who have only disgraced the human shape and character, yet I firmly believe in my soul, that not one of them ever succeeded in deceiving himself into a belief of the gloomy doctrines he had so long and so zealously laboured to propagate. It would be no very difficult task to expose the weakness, and entirely refute the principles, of this false philosophy; but the argument would be uninteresting to you, and a victory over those who have degraded the dignity of the human character so low as to consider themselves no better than a dog or an ass, and like them entirely to perish with death, would, in my opinion, afford but a puny triumph.
Without any further notice of infidels, or their dark doctrines, I shall endeavour to point out a few plain thoughts in the order, as nearly as I can, they occurred to my own imagination. It has afforded me great pleasure to notice that most of you have perused my former little Address with care and attention; and it gives me infinite gratification to be assured, as I am, that it has been the means of bringing more than one or two amongst you to repentance, who are now leaning for support upon their Heavenly Father, and, having fixed their hope on that immoveable rock, are now enjoying tranquillity and peace of mind, to which they were before strangers. The knowledge of this happy change has encouraged me to devote another hour to your service; and if God shall be pleased so far to bless my feeble endeavours as to make me instrumental in reclaiming another wanderer, and restoring her to the fold of Christ, the proudest wish of my heart will be gratified.
It has been to me matter of surprise, to observe that mankind generally are unwilling to indulge in reflections on death and a future state, as if, by excluding the subject from their thoughts, they expect to secure themselves from the unwelcome visits of this all-destroying enemy. For my own part, I have often passed a solitary hour very profitably in meditating upon this subject, and considering how death might be entirely divested of terror. Amidst the many uncertain events which every where surround human life, and in which we are all here particularly involved, there is one thing we have too much reason to believe, namely, that of us who have commenced this voyage, and who are now present, there are some, I fear, who shall not survive to see it finished; but which of us it may please God to call, he alone can tell.
Respecting the certainty of death, all the nations of the earth are agreed, however opposite their sentiments may be in other respects. Since, then, “it is appointed unto all men once to die[[16]],” and as no power on earth can reverse or retard this decree, it behoves us, one and all, timely to prepare for an event concerning which we only know, that happen soon it must; but whether within a few years, a month, or a day, we are totally ignorant. Who amongst us can say with confidence that we shall live to see the sun rise to-morrow, or set this evening? If life at best is but a span, and in every case uncertain; and if our happiness or misery hereafter is to depend upon our actions during this life, which I shall endeavour presently to prove they do, how very important must its concerns appear!
I candidly confess to you, that I cannot help sometimes shuddering at the thought of eternity; it is impossible that any one can reflect on it seriously, and be unmoved. If the torments of hell were to last but a week, a month, or a hundred years, they might be endured; but, alas! when hundreds, thousands, and millions of ages shall have crept slowly away, how agonizing the thought that our misery is hardly then commenced! O my friends! this is not an imaginary picture, invented by man to frighten sinners from their evil ways, and induce them to repent; it has been proclaimed a thousand times by the voice of God, and who dares to doubt his authority? How ought the following declarations to appall the heart of an unrepenting sinner, whose conscience terribly assures him that he is included in the awful denunciation, Acts, 17th chapter 31st verse, “Because He hath appointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead!” Again; 2nd Corinthians, 5th chapter, 10th verse, “For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad.” Again; John, 5th chapter, 28th & 29th verses, “Marvel not at this: for the hour is coming, in the which all that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth: they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that have done evil, unto the resurrection of damnation.” Again; Matthew, 13th chapter, 49th & 50th verse, “So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just, and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.” Again; Matthew, 25th chapter, 31st and following verses, “When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall he sit upon the throne of his glory: and before him shall be gathered all nations; and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats: and he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in; naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels: for I was an hungred, and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not. Then shall they also answer him saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment: but the righteous into life eternal.” Again; Romans, 2nd chapter, 6th and following verses, “who will render to every man according to his deeds: to them who by patience in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life: but unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil, of the Jew first, and also of the Gentile; but glory, honour and peace to every man that worketh good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” Again; Psalm ix. verse 17, “The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God.”
Who is so hardened in iniquity as to hear these threats without trembling, ignorant, as he must be, what moment the thunderbolt of God’s judgement may descend upon his guilty head? Can any of you doubt the purity or truth of that fountain whence these terrible assurances flow?—Suppose it should so happen, that the unembodied spirit of some departed friend were this night permitted to appear before you;—some one who had been the bosom companion of your earliest youth, before the fair blossoms of innocence were blasted and consumed by the pestilential breath of iniquity: or suppose the apparition of a father, mother, sister, brother, or husband, whose death was occasioned by your undutiful, graceless, or ungrateful behaviour, should present itself to your imagination, and assure you, in a voice of thunder, that a life of sin tends to misery on earth, and endless torments after death; would not such a visitation make a deep impression on your minds, and a total change in your lives? I really fear that with some of you it would not; for, if you will not believe the word of God, we are assured, “You would not believe, though one rose from the dead[[17]].”
Were it in the power of eloquence to pourtray, or could fancy represent, the horrors of that gloomy dungeon which is prepared for the punishment of condemned souls, “where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched[[18]];” where a single ray of joy will never be permitted to illumine the dark abode of the hopeless captive; where the wrath and indignation of a justly offended God will burn for time everlasting, without consuming the wretched sufferer; could any power of human language bring these things fairly before the imagination, the picture would be too shocking for the contemplation even of the most callous depravity. Should any of you give this tremendous situation a moment’s serious thought, you would surely be induced to renounce sin for ever.
In the foregoing observations I have endeavoured to address myself to sinners in general; but I have a few remarks to offer, which apply peculiarly to yourselves. Respecting the errors which have led to your present misfortunes I shall be silent. There are few or none of us, on taking a retrospective glance of life, but will perceive many wonderful instances of God’s goodness, many unmerited mercies. This, perhaps, some of you are unable to recognise, or unwilling to acknowledge, erroneously imagining that, because sin and folly have subjected you to disgrace and punishment, all the other favours of Heaven are withheld. But, my friends, we ought not to forget the many innumerable blessings and privileges we are still permitted to enjoy. We ought to be earnest in thanksgiving to the Author of all mercies, for bearing with our infirmities so long, and granting us time for repentance.
I cannot avoid reminding you of the great advantages you have enjoyed since you came to this ship: the means of grace are of inexpressible value, and I think you have had them in great abundance. The Scriptures have been constantly read and expounded to you according to the best of my ability; the utmost facility and encouragement have been held out to every one of you to persevere in religious worship; and all the avenues to vice and immorality have been guarded with vigilant care. Whenever we are visited with the dispensations of Heaven, we may rest assured that it is for wise purposes; and in the afflictions which you are now enduring, the warning hand of Divine Providence has been obviously stretched forth. Let me now ask you, What influence have all these had upon your minds? Are you more enlightened? Are your affections more raised from the world, and fixed on your Father in heaven? Have you ever, at the close of a day, or the end of a week, examined your own hearts to ascertain whether you had broken any of those cruel chains by which you were so fatally bound to iniquity? Believe me, my friends, frequent self-examination is of infinite value. It will stimulate you to acts of virtue, and insensibly lead to repentance, without which you cannot advance a single step towards a merciful Redeemer. Let it be engraven upon your minds, that in proportion as your opportunities of salvation have been numerous, so will your condemnation be grievous, if you allow them to pass unimproved and unheeded. Remember that the doors of mercy will not always be open. Oh! let me admonish you to draw near to God while he has promised to be gracious. The parable of the Fig-tree is wonderfully applicable in the present case[[19]]: “A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vineyard, and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he to the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig-tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbreth it the ground?” In this you may observe that God marks attentively how long we have been unprofitable and unfruitful. The fig-tree evidently had reference to sinners, who for a certain time disregarded the means of grace, and obstinately resisted his frequent invitations; which induced him at length to direct that the tree should be cut down, that is, that those sinners should be destroyed.
I said, in a former part of this discourse, that your situation was peculiar; it does indeed differ widely from that of most persons to whom divines have had opportunities of addressing the consoling doctrines of Jesus Christ. You have now bid adieu to your native land, the pleasures of which most of you must make up your minds to relinquish for ever. It is indeed very natural that the land which gave us birth, the spot where we first beheld the light of Heaven, should long be remembered with tenderness the most endearing. That we should cherish the finest feelings of affection for our native land, is directed by a great and irresistible law of nature, which was first implanted in our breasts by the hand of the Creator himself; and I can easily fancy the emotions that must swell your hearts, when the fond recollection of youthful joys, and innocent pleasures, returns upon your memory. To be thus cut off from your country, relations, friends, and acquaintances, is indeed a heavy affliction; and if your hope be placed on nothing above this earth, I pity you from my soul: but, if you can repose on the promises of God, and seek refuge in the merits of his blessed Son, our Redeemer, the proudest individual in this world has cause to envy you.
I think enough is comprised in the foregoing observations, to deter all rational beings from the commission of crime, and thereby exposing themselves to the vengeance of that awful Majesty that can crush them in an instant. Before I quit this subject, it may be expected that I mention a few of the motives that ought to incite us to virtue. These are so obvious, even to the most superficial observer, that it is hardly possible for any one who thinks at all, to hesitate which is to be chosen in preference, vice or virtue—happiness or misery. A good life is the surest pledge of a happy death. The promises of God are not less encouraging to the righteous, than disheartening to the wicked. In the 3d chapter and 33d verse of Proverbs, we read, “The curse of the Lord is in the house of the wicked, but he blesseth the habitation of the just.” Again, of the same 13th chapter, and 21st verse, “Evil pursueth sinners: but to the righteous, good shall be repaid.” The faith of a righteous man drawing towards the close of life, is beautifully expressed in the 23d Psalm, 4th and following verses. The Psalmist, reposing securely under the shelter of divine protection, says, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.” By the Scripture term faith, I understand the inspired writers to mean, that a sinner, after forsaking the corruptions of sin and the flesh, and steadily persevering in the course of virtue and obedience, which the Christian religion points out, shall place entire reliance in the mediation of Christ, for pardon of his offences, and acceptance with God.
It might here very properly be asked, whether you ever knew of any one who, having led a virtuous life, had cause to repent of it at the hour of death? But, on the contrary, have you not all seen many flying to God in the hour of sickness and keen affliction, as the only certain source whence the true penitent may always derive consolation? Even in this life the righteous man has cause to believe that the blessing of Heaven will be extended to him. This expectation is confirmed to him by the assurance of the Psalmist, who says, in the 37th Psalm, 23d and following verses, “The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord: and he delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand. I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.” In the 16th chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, 22d and succeeding verses, we have a wonderful instance of God’s providence, in the protection and deliverance of two of his servants, which I consider highly deserving of your notice: “And the multitude rose up against them; and the magistrates rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into prison, charging the jailor to keep them safely; who having received such a charge, thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks. And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one’s bands were loosed. And the keeper of the prison awaking out of his sleep, and seeing the prison doors open, he drew out his sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had been fled. But Paul cried out with a loud voice, saying, Do thyself no harm; for we are all here. Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved? And they said, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved, and thy house.”
Would my time admit of making further extracts from Scripture, I could fill a multitude of pages with accounts of the loving-kindness and patient forbearance continually exercised by God towards his creatures; but the Bible is in the hands of you all, and I earnestly entreat you to make yourselves acquainted with the salutary and cheering precepts which you will find inculcated in every line of that sacred volume. It abounds in consolations with which the thirsty soul of the weary traveller, who is seeking salvation, may be feasted and refreshed. The careful perusal of this most excellent book is not only granted to us as a privilege, but God enjoins it as a duty: He says, in the Gospel according to St. John[[20]], “Search the Scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me.”
I fear I have already trespassed too long on your patience; but I feel a resistless impulse to give you a brief account of the dying moments of two persons with whom I was acquainted, and from which, beyond all doubt, the most impressive moral lesson may be learned. I select these from a great many similar cases which came under my observation in the course of professional avocation in various parts of the world.
These men through life professed sentiments very different from each other; and at the awful hour of dissolution, their feelings were indeed very opposite. They were both snatched away in the prime of life, one being twenty-four, and the other twenty-seven years old. A long and disinterested friendship with the former, induced him to request my attendance professionally; but all human skill was vain: the cold hand of death had seized him. Never, in my life, did I see the cheering effects of a religious life more strongly exemplified than on this occasion. His wife, his mother, and his five sisters, with myself, were present. Observing his female relations in tears, he requested them to come near, and, after a little pause, addressed them in nearly the following words: “Beloved friends, I perceive with regret the anguish of your souls; I say regret, because I had promised myself nothing but tranquillity and happiness, while the partition is breaking down that separates me from my God. I am entering on my last journey, which, so far from being terrible, is inviting and delightful.” A paroxysm of pain here interrupted the interesting account, and for a minute he lay apparently insensible; but opening his eyes again, with a placid smile, he said, “I feel the infirmity of nature, but my sense of pain is lost in my ardent hope of salvation. I have heartily repented of all my sins, and firmly believe, through the benignant mercies of my God, and the redeeming merits of my blessed Saviour, I shall in a few minutes be numbered with the chosen of God. O my wife! my mother! my beloved sisters! I beseech you not to mourn my departure. I feel happiness unspeakable opening on my soul, as it bursts from this wretched tenement.” Then grasping my hand, he faintly exclaimed, “Ah, my friend! virtue is its own reward. See the effect of a religious life, and the blessed composure of a dying Christian:” he continued, “My lamp is nearly out; but, blessed be God, I feel that it has not burned in vain, O Lord God! excuse my impatience, I am ready to obey thy call, and anxious to receive thy promised rest.” Here his voice failed,—his tongue faltered,—and his spirit took its flight to the bosom of its Father in heaven.
The picture of my other unhappy friend was just the reverse of the above. He had indulged freely in all the fashionable gaieties of the world; and if ever a serious or useful thought obtruded on his disordered fancy, it was immediately stifled by some idle debauchery. In this mad career he quaffed away life to the dregs, and, before he arrived at the meridian of manhood, he was verging fast to the brink of eternity. A bacchanalian surfeit in a distant country brought on a fever, which threatened a speedy dissolution of life; and in this state I saw him for the first time for several years, and I am certain I shall never forget the painful feelings I endured throughout this melancholy interview. It is absolutely impossible to give even a faint idea of the horror, the agony, the heart-rending terror that harrowed up his soul, whenever the thought of death flashed across his mind. He received me with phrensied ardour, in which hope and fear were strongly depicted. “Alas!” he exclaimed, “you have come too late, for I am lost—every way lost.” I immediately perceived that life was ebbing fast; and being convinced that nothing short of divine interposition could retard his fate, I endeavoured to console him by drawing his attention to the mercies of God, and the saving mediation of a gracious Redeemer: to which he replied, with asperity and violence, “If you have any friendship left for a degraded, self-polluted wretch, torture not his last moments. My life has been spent in iniquity—foolishly spent, because it never yielded one hour of solid happiness. I have lived without thinking of God, and why should he now think of me, unless it be to judge me—to damn me?—Oh, God!—I shall go distracted!” A fainting fit intervened, and fortunately broke this mournful chain of reflection; but, alas! sensibility too soon returned, and with it fresh trains of gloomy despondency. He stared wildly, and roared out, “I have broken from him—but he is coming again—there—there—death!—Oh! save me—save me.” After nearly an hour passed in this dreadful state, he again became capable of reflecting; but every moment added to his dejection. “I have been so bad,” he exclaimed, “that God can never forgive me. I have blasphemed and dishonoured his holy name a hundred times, when my heart inwardly smote me. I have ridiculed and denied his existence, that my companions in error might think well of me; but I never was sincere in my wickedness.” His mind became so agitated that all reasoning was lost:—he was unable to repent; and the thought of death rent his very soul. In this perturbed state he languished for about four hours, from the time of my first seeing him; till at length, overwhelmed by despair, a paroxysm of fever closed the tragic scene. The last words he uttered, that I could distinctly hear, were, “God will not, cannot forgive!—” The remainder was lost in a murmuring groan.
Oh! my friends, could I convey to you any idea of the awful feelings which the wretched death of this wretched man produced upon my mind, it would, I think, deter the most thoughtless of you from those practices which ruin both soul and body. Would to God that you had been present! My description may not penetrate beyond the ear: but had you witnessed the dreadful original, it would have pierced your hearts.
Before concluding these observations, I cannot refrain from indulging myself in a single remark on your conduct lately, which I have infinite pleasure in saying merits the highest approbation of both Captain Brown and myself. Believe me, I lost no opportunity of acquainting all my benevolent friends of your good behaviour before we left England; and if you persevere to the end of the voyage in this praiseworthy manner, I promise you that all the well disposed inhabitants of the country to which you are going shall be informed of it; and in my best offices with the Governor you may most religiously confide.
5th.—At the earnest solicitation of several of the prisoners, I allowed copies of the above address to be taken by them, having the greater inclination to comply with this request, as I wished to see its effects rendered permanent. Their general conduct continues exemplary.
8th.—The same unvarying scene now presents itself every day. The women show no inclination whatever to hold conversation with the sailors. In every part of the ship to which the prisoners are allowed access, I have the gratifying opportunity of seeing some one of them reading a portion of Scripture, or some religious tract, to a group of her companions collected round to hear the consoling doctrines of the gospel. It now requires little or no entreaty to induce them to the practice of religious worship, in which I am persuaded many of them engage with sincere piety.
At 11 A. M. being somewhat indisposed, the Rev. Mr. Reddall did me the favour to read a sermon in the prison, during which I was summoned to a child that had long lingered from water on the brain, and was then dying. When the sermon was finished, I took occasion to address the women on the subject of death, as mentioned in my last address. The child’s dissolution, which had just taken place, gave an opportunity of impressing the subject on their minds; and, if one may judge by the burst of feeling it produced, it will not be speedily obliterated, the circumstances of life and death being immediately present to the imagination of each every moment of the voyage. Between 4 and 5 P. M. the funeral service was read by the Rev. Mr. Reddall, and the body of the child was committed to the deep.
10th.—About half past 10 last night, an infant belonging to one of the prisoners died from the effects of a blood-vessel of the lungs ruptured about five weeks previously. About half past 3 this evening the reverend Mr. Reddall read the funeral service, and the body was committed to the deep. The reverend gentleman afterwards addressed the women (who were present as well on this as the former occasion) in an impressive moral exhortation, to which they paid the most respectful attention. Their conduct has been generally so good as to admit of no opportunity of using one word of animadversion as heretofore.
11th.—At 11 A. M. the Rev. Mr. Reddall read to the women in the prison a sermon which he had written for the particular occasion, admirably adapted to their situation. It was intended as an appeal to their feelings, and realized the expectations formed of its effects: there was not in fact a dry eye present. When he had concluded, I made a few observations expressive of my approbation of their general behaviour, and how much it gratified me to observe their gradual reformation. I now entertain scarcely a shadow of doubt that the great design of the Ladies’ Committee will be crowned with complete success.
14th.—Nothing remarkable has occurred since last date, the conduct of the prisoners being uniformly correct. The increasing heat of the weather,—the ship having advanced considerably within the tropics,—together with the full diet, have produced inflammatory symptoms among the prisoners, which it was necessary to treat with copious depletion, and other advisable means. I have satisfaction in observing them relieved by the above treatment.
15th.—This day, according to the usual rule, the prisoners were assembled to hear religious instruction; but as the weather was very hot, it appeared most proper that I should read the discourse to them on deck, where the Reverend Mr. Reddall, Captain Brown, and his officers, attended. The behaviour of the women was discreet and orderly: their manners have assumed a certain sedateness which recommends them to particular notice. Several have been employed in plaiting straw, and doing needle-work; many are quite devoted to reading and conversing on the Scriptures, thus filling up their time very usefully.
16th.—This day, about 11 A. M., there came on a heavy squall from the S.E., which blew with tremendous fury for nearly an hour, accompanied with very heavy and incessant rain. Being aware of its approach, I had ordered the beds to be carefully covered in the netting. As this was the first appearance of any thing like a storm, many of the women from a motive of curiosity remained upon deck until the hurrying exertions of the sailors, and the loud voices of the Captain and officers giving the necessary commands for the management of the ship, excited their terror and drove them all below drenched with rain.
I had been occupied in the hospital with the sick patients when the confusion on deck was in its height, and on coming into the prison was presented with a sight which, I must confess, gave me inexpressible gratification. Most of the women were on their knees devoutly engaged in prayer;—they did not appear to notice me, so great was their abstraction;—all was silence, and religious awe. The apprehended danger seemed to have brought forth the feelings of fervent devotion, and their appearance, as they were then to be viewed, was similar to that of a well ordered assembly at church.
The matter, altogether, made an impression on my mind which will not soon be removed; because at that instant I had the most satisfactory proof of the results I had always anticipated from the system adopted. Here, for instance, was a moment to try their faith. All the feelings seemed now absorbed in religious thought, and they appeared firm in reliance on the protection of Divine Providence;—an idea to which many of them had been hitherto strangers, and the majority of them did not dare to indulge. The shallow sceptic, who would despair of producing religious impression on the minds of convicts, might, in this happy and unexpected occurrence, find enough to convince him of his error, and to make him change his opinion, were his ignorance formed even of the most stubborn materials.
A subsequent circumstance also persuaded me that the alarm created by the squall was the means of calling up in their minds more lasting reflections of a religious nature; for, about 4 in the evening, Sidney Williams, whose conduct in Newgate was so extravagantly wicked as to induce the Surgeon of that establishment to propose her removal to Bethlehem Hospital, came to me with a hymn, which I had given her some time before to learn, with a promise of some mark of approbation in case of attention, and recited the whole with feeling and correctness. I engaged her immediately to commit to memory my first address, and have very little doubt of her performing the task.
The example of Sidney Williams was followed by many others, to the number of twenty nearly, who have also undertaken to commit the same address to memory, in expectation of gaining the proposed reward. I must not omit to mention here another trait of improvement noticed and reported to me by Captain Brown:—Within the last few days some of the younger convicts, who appeared more volatile than others, were in the habit of using sacred words in ordinary conversation, not as oaths, but as harmless expletives: but now, however, all such expressions have been laid aside.
18th.—Sunday.—The weather being fine, the convicts were assembled on deck, and a sermon read to them by the Reverend Mr. Reddall, to which they gave undivided attention, and appeared to acknowledge the force of the arguments by correspondent feeling. After sermon I addressed them in a concise exhortation on the necessity of frequent self-examination, urging its important advantages in the guidance of every part of their conduct, and have reason to hope the admonition was not lost upon them.
Having long considered that some mode of keeping their minds in constant action could not fail of producing good moral effects, and as a state of idleness had been generally attended with injurious consequences when they were imprisoned in England, it appeared to me manifest that nothing could be more desirable than to devise some means of producing that activity with as little delay as possible. As every day now seemed to bring forth in their conduct the dawning of some good quality which had been obscured in the darkness of their former lives, and as their minds appeared strongly attached to religious reflection, I thought it most expedient to employ them in committing to memory some short moral or religious composition, proposing, as an inducement, a copy of the Bible with the name of the successful candidate for the first place of merit, in my own hand-writing; and to the two next, a copy of some religious book, one to each, marked in the same manner; also to the next seven, another small favour, with a similar mark of approbation.
I further informed them, that an account of their success should be entered in the journal with their respective names, which would be submitted to the Governor at Sydney, backed with particular commendation from myself, as they deserved; and that a copy of those names should also be transmitted to London. They unanimously and cheerfully presented themselves in competition for the proposed reward; and I had the pleasure of understanding that many would undertake the task purely from a sense of duty, and gratitude for the care which they experienced during the voyage. This latter feeling was evinced by many of the Newgate prisoners, among whom I was particularly gratified in seeing Sidney Williams. The change in this girl is astonishing, not only as it regards herself individually, but as her altered conduct serves as an useful lesson and example to others.
I cannot refrain from repeating my firm conviction, that the very best consequences would be found to result, during the voyage to New South Wales, were the convicts provided with means of constant employment in some useful and light way befitting their sex; as I find uniformly their minds much more tractable and obedient when they are so employed. One obvious benefit would attend such a provision,—they would thereby, having their attention profitably engaged, avoid allurements to improper or useless conversation, and would rather turn their thoughts, as these do at present, to religious or moral subjects. This latter intention might be promoted by grouping the workers into certain classes, according to their employment, and appointing one of their number best qualified to read from some edifying book, instructive discourses, or such passages of moral entertainment as might be selected for that purpose; in time, use would render this custom familiar and pleasing.
Some time after the women had been sent below this evening,—which is a proceeding always observed at a certain hour, and attended to by them with the utmost decorum,—Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Reddall walking on deck to enjoy the delightful cool, which was made more pleasing by moonlight and a gentle breeze,—their ears were struck with agreeable sounds coming from the prison. On approaching cautiously, not to disturb any person below, they found the sounds were produced by several of the women singing hymns in symphony in a very low key. The stillness of the hour, and the contrast of a religious exercise of that pleasing character among women heretofore the objects of pity, punishment, or contempt, were calculated to produce a combined effect of the most satisfactory kind.
20th.—At 9 this morning a complaint was made against Mary James for abusing a fellow prisoner without provocation. On investigating the case, the statement was found to be correct, and also that she had wantonly used the most foul and disgusting language. I represented to her the impropriety of such behaviour, and rebuked her for it, threatening her with punishment if it were repeated. So far from expressing any regret for her irregularity, she declared her intention to do so as often as any one gave her cause, nor would she listen to the consequences of such insubordination. She was proceeding with some indecent and offensive language in my presence, and would not desist in spite of every remonstrance. I therefore tied her hands and gagged her, declaring she should not be loosed until she returned to a proper sense of her duty. In about an hour afterwards, she signified deep sorrow for her error; on which she was immediately released, and pardoned formally on promise of more regular behaviour in future. At noon the prison, having been cleaned out as usual, was sprinkled with vinegar.
21st.—This day was given to cleaning and fumigating the prison. Being desirous to let the women have the benefit of bathing, the tub was sent below for that purpose, but was found rather large for admission by the doors; which being of slight materials, and hastily put together, were unable to withstand the most trifling shock, and were, consequently, much shaken and injured by forcing in the bathing-tub. This is not the only instance in which the carpentry work of the prison was found deficient;—the locks are usually of the commonest kind, and insecure, as well as liable to be put out of order by the most simple accident,—even by the pressure of the adjacent woodwork, when the vessel happens to roll heavily.
22nd.—At 11 this day, according to custom, I read a sermon to the convicts, whose whole behaviour on the occasion merited praise. In their general conduct they are decent and orderly, while their constant cheerfulness makes them appear not to feel their separation from former acquaintance very heavily. Many of the prisoners are every day employed in working straw plait, and in various other light occupations, such as sewing and knitting,—the materials of which were supplied by the Ladies’ Committee.
23rd. Many of the women are attacked with inflammatory fever.
25th.—Sunday. This day severe illness prevented me from reading to the prisoners according to custom; and, as I was confined to bed, the Reverend Mr. Reddall kindly officiated on the occasion, and read to them one of his own sermons, their attention to which afforded much satisfaction. Mr. Reddall alluding to my illness, excited strong marks of feeling and concern amongst them on that account. In the afternoon I made an effort to see the sick persons, and administered the necessary remedies.
26th.—The inflammatory fever has been subdued in the cases mentioned, and the other patients in the hospital are doing well. The women are constantly engaged upon deck in the usual industrious employments.
27th.—This day passed as heretofore in the most orderly and decent manner on the part of the prisoners, although my illness interrupted that watchfulness which I wished invariably to observe. Their conduct, indeed, has been so uniformly correct as to present a sameness of record too tiresome, were it not for the pleasure afforded by witnessing their regular advancement in those principles of religion and virtue which I was anxious to see established in full influence amongst them.
This evening, after the beds had been sent below, a scene of rather a novel nature presented itself, and served to convince me that perfection had not as yet been attained by the convicts. The circumstance is inserted, as presenting an alteration of feature in this journal, rather than from its appearing seriously worthy of notice. Ann Williams being in familiar conversation with the elder Farrell, had contrived to pick her pocket, but was instantly detected; when all the bitter upbraiding of Farrell’s merciless tongue was levelled at the delinquent. This was resented in a way rather rude, as soon as they were all sent below to bed; and the clamour brought Captain Brown and the Reverend Mr. Reddall to the spot, when the assailant was secured, and tied up during the night, and every thing became tranquil.
28th.—On opening the prison this morning at daylight, according to custom, I released Williams without speaking much to her, reserving my observations until my health might allow of the exertion. The women have been all this day grave, silent, and evidently concerned for the occurrences of last evening.
29th.—This day Samuel Brown, a convict’s child, died in the hospital; and the funeral service having been read as usual by the Reverend Mr. Reddall, the body was committed to the deep. At 11 A. M. the same gentleman read a moral discourse to the women, at which, though extremely ill, I endeavoured to be present, and, after it was ended, addressed them briefly on the very disgraceful conduct of some of them on Tuesday evening. My observations were tempered with mildness, and were chiefly directed to the warm concern which I was informed they had expressed for my illness, which I assured them had made a strong impression on my mind. I exhorted them to persevere in good and virtuous conduct; as, to see them moral, and happy from that cause, was my greatest comfort; that the only reward I sought was that very sense of gratitude which they had shown for my attentions, and that, so long as health would permit, I should exert myself for their welfare. They all appeared orderly, attentive, and respectful, and seemed generally to censure the conduct of the late offenders.
30th.—Frequent squalls, with rain, occurring this day, kept the prisoners for the greater part below, where they were all usefully employed, and such as had no work to do, filled up the vacant hours by religious reading.
July 2nd.—Sunday. This day the Reverend Mr. Reddall read a sermon on deck to the women, at which I endeavoured to be present, although my state of health was very indifferent. The orderly behaviour of the women, and their decent, and even neat appearance, afforded me much pleasure.
6th.—The preceding four days have passed in uninterrupted tranquillity;—not a single circumstance having occurred to excite disapprobation. It is extremely gratifying to observe little groups of the prisoners, both in the prison and upon deck, reading the Scriptures, and devoutly worshiping their Maker. At first many of them showed considerable reluctance and shyness to be seen in acts of devotion; but that false shame has happily disappeared. This day, at the usual hour, I read to them a sermon, which was followed by an exhortation by the Reverend Mr. Reddall of a serious, impressive, and appropriate nature.
8th.—The occurrences of these two days correspond with those of the preceding, except that hence a manifest argument for the necessity of employment among the convicts may be drawn, as to the advantages obtainable by daily occupation, in the singular alteration for the better in the conduct of Ann Newton, who, since she commenced working articles of straw manufacture, seems entirely to have lost her disposition to licentious romping and careless expressions, for which she, more than any of her companions, used to be remarked. Her demeanour now is much more steady, and that activity of mind which would have vented itself in mischief, is now in a very particular manner directed to industry; her appearance also, which used to be that of a slattern, and exhibited almost a studied want of cleanliness, is become, even in her plainest dress, neat and decent;—every thing about her, in fact, bespeaks a marked amendment. Another circumstance in the conduct of this young woman is particularly deserving of notice; she every day chooses a retired seat apart from her companions, where she assiduously pursues her work in silence and remarkable reserve, yet appearing cheerful and contented.
9th.—This day, Sunday, being wet and uncomfortable, the prisoners were unable to enjoy the advantages of the air on deck, as usual; and this disappointment seemed to be felt considerably, as they had all dressed themselves very neatly, many wearing new dresses which they had made up during the week. At the accustomed hour the Reverend Mr. Reddall accompanied me to the prison, where he read to them an excellent discourse written for the occasion, on the advantages arising from perseverance in “well-doing,” which contained some affecting allusions to their situation, of which they testified the most lively feeling, particularly of gratitude towards their good friends of the Committee, and all those whose kind attentions were exerted for their welfare. I offered a few observations approving of their general conduct, and holding out inducements for further improvement: the burst of strong feeling universally expressed throughout this penitent community was overwhelming; their sobs and tears were to me the best reward I could possibly be presented with, nor could I proceed without a painful emotion mingled with pleasure. Were the benevolent ladies, who have done so much for these poor contrite sufferers, then present, they would doubtless have been much gratified. These women are no longer the wild and abandoned creatures known throughout the prisons of England;—they are now an orderly company, more like sisters in one family than persons thrown together by accident or misfortune.
13th.—Throughout the last few days the weather has continued boisterous, cold, and wet, proving extremely uncomfortable to the prisoners; for which reason they mostly remain below, exercising themselves in such work as they can,—cleaning the prison and making every thing dry and snug about them. The greater number were engaged at times to-day in learning hymns, or reciting, and afterwards singing them with grave attention. It having blown a violent gale during the night, they were all greatly harassed, and many of them are still seriously alarmed by the extraordinary rolling of the ship.
At the accustomed hour I read to them a short discourse, and followed it up with some observations applicable to the state of their fears on the preceding night, with which they were much affected. As a mark of approbation for their care in studying the hymns, and so laudably singing them, one copy of Watts’s Collection of Hymns was given to each mess, accompanied with such remarks as were likely to confirm their pious purposes. This little favour was gladly and gratefully received: hence the full assurance that they will derive much benefit from having those small books, as they have ever since been collected in groups to hear them read.
As further marks of encouragement, I distributed among the most deserving some more straw, and such other materials for industry as had been supplied by the Committee: from their great diligence in working these, I feel the more strongly impressed with a conviction of the propriety and necessity of putting on board for the voyage a sufficient quantity of materials to provide constant employment for the convicts on the passage to the colony. The best proof of this is the superior correctness of conduct manifested by such as are so employed, even on the present very limited scale.
14th.—This day the prisoners were confined below by the severity of the weather, the wind still continuing to blow a heavy gale. Their situation was rendered the more uncomfortable, from the wet occasioned by the sea sometimes breaking over the netting, and making its way into the prison: besides, the wind having carried away the cover of the boiler, it became very difficult, almost impossible, to get any thing cooked: to those little hardships, however, they submitted without a murmur. An extra allowance of wine was issued, to relieve as much as possible these inconveniences.
15th.—Nothing of importance has occurred this day. The weather having become more favourable, the convicts were employed in cleaning the decks of the prison, and making themselves as comfortable as possible.
16th. Sunday.—The Rev. Mr. Reddall and Captain Brown accompanied me this day to the prison, where Mr. Reddall read to the convicts a discourse on the conversion of St. Paul. Some thoughts having suggested themselves as appropriately applying to their immediate condition, I offered a few brief observations to that effect, which I have reason to hope were heard by them with serious interest.
A recent circumstance may here be introduced, to show the happy influence already extending over the minds of these forlorn females. Mary Hough, one of those sent from Stockport, was married to a man of dissolute character, who not only, as she asserted, induced her to commit the offence for which she was sentenced to her present punishment, but had taken up with another female, whose misfortune in knowing him was similar to her own; for the same woman is also a convict in this ship, with a young child by the same man, of which she was pregnant at the time of her commitment to prison. Mary Hough was at first, she acknowledges, full of resentment and rage against this unfortunate woman; but she has latterly become so altered in her mind, from the effects of religious exercises, that she has made the most sincere declarations of forgiveness to the object of her jealous enmity, and even sends a part of her own ration of wine to assist the poor mother in supporting the infant in health. This Hough is exemplary in her behaviour, and frequently expresses anxious wishes for her wicked husband’s reformation.
17th.—The sameness which has hung over the reports in the preceding weeks, has at length met some variation from an occurrence which has just taken place. In consequence of a regulation which had been long organized and established, I had, at the earliest moment possible after opening the prison this morning, intelligence of a transaction which happened shortly after last midnight. During yesterday a secret arrangement, it appears, had been made by three of the sailors, in pursuance of which they watched a convenient opportunity of going down to the prison-door at the fore hatchway, which is always secured with two locks, and there endeavoured to open a passage for three of the convicts, Ann Farrell, Ann Newton, and Ann Harwood, who had consented to accompany them below. After some feeble endeavours, the sailors, fearing detection, desisted, and retired in savage disappointment.
Having received this information, on the truth of which I could rely, I lost not an instant to confer with Captain Brown, who offered the most prompt assistance. I sent for the three offending prisoners, who, with the utmost plausibility and perseverance, insisted that they had no participation in the design. Being, however, convinced of their criminal intention in the affair, I placed them in strict confinement, positively forbidding any one of them to appear again on deck during the remainder of the voyage; which must operate upon them as a heavy punishment.
The greatest precautions were used at the same time, by Captain Brown, to place a grating, and more secure fastenings, over the hatchway, where the attempt had been made; and more strict regulations were issued for the conduct of the sailors. It may be recollected that Newton, one of the offenders in the present instance, had lately shown strong inclination to amendment, having applied herself assiduously to working straw-plait; but, unfortunately, the materials being all worked up, the mischief of idleness returned upon her volatile disposition, and the effects are, her being involved in the above improper conspiracy. Let this suffice, without further comment, to prove the unhappy consequences that result from the convicts not having means of permanent employment during the voyage.
19th.—This morning a woman, who conducted herself throughout the voyage with exemplary propriety, solicited my protection against the insulting abuse and infamous threats of two of the sailors, which she declared had been quite unprovoked. Having investigated the case, I found her statement correct. These fellows, who had attempted to break into the prison on the night of the 16th, believing it was this woman who communicated to me the facts of that infamous transaction, took this opportunity of venting their low malice against her, using the most dreadful oaths and imprecations, that they would throw her overboard before the voyage was over; or that they would most certainly kill her in the colony; one of them at the same time seizing her as if he was about to put the threat into execution.
I soothed the poor woman’s alarms, as well I could, with promises of protection to the utmost of my ability, and represented the affair to Captain Brown, declaring to him, that any injury done to the prisoners should be followed with punishment, to the utmost extent and rigour of the law, on our arrival in the colony:—from him I experienced the most ready and friendly co-operation, in no degree marked by the lukewarm impulse of mere duty, but by the elevated principle of moral rectitude. He represented to the men what I had said, and assured them, that such disgraceful and unmanly behaviour should not only be discountenanced, but be visited with all the punishment he had the power to inflict. Unfortunately, however, in vessels of this description, the law has provided no remedy against the most unbridled licentiousness; and sailors may, in fact, commit any crime short of mutiny, or injury to the ship’s concerns, without the least apprehension of penal consequences, while they almost always act up fully to the extent of this unreasonable immunity.
The rest of the prisoners expressed their feelings respecting the misconduct of the three thoughtless females in terms of bitter indignation;—they declared such behaviour unworthy and disgraceful to beings on whom such care had been lavished. Scoffs and insults from every part of the prison were poured on the now mournful offenders, who complained piteously of their sufferings, and declared they were so wretched that life was not worth preserving. I had to entreat and command the others to desist from persecuting them; but on this occasion my authority had weight no longer than I was present to enforce it, although on every other occasion my orders met with the most prompt obedience. To screen them from personal violence, and preserve peace among them, I found it necessary to remove the offenders into the hospital. This circumstance proved the strong feeling that habit, if not a better state of mind, had given birth to.
20th.—An effort was made last night, by two of the sailors, to break into the prison, to communicate with the three girls in confinement; but it does not appear that any effort on their side was made to encourage such proceeding: one of the fellows threw down a letter through an opening in the deck made for the admission of air to the hospital, but it was torn without having been read. I have strong expectations that these weak creatures are becoming again sincerely steady, having conversed with them almost every hour since their separation from the others, and found them constantly in tears, without expressing a wish to have their confinement relaxed.
At noon, Captain Brown and the Rev. Mr. Reddall accompanied me to the prison, where I read a sermon, and made a few remarks, approving of their prudent behaviour in avoiding such solicitations as had involved the others in the disgrace of the late transaction, and commending them for the reserve shown generally towards those who sought only to lead them again astray from virtuous obedience. I advised them also to cultivate that peaceful and friendly disposition towards one another, which heretofore formed so praiseworthy a feature in the character of their little community. This appeared to allay all acrimonious feeling, and appease every discontent: a spirit of harmony is again restored, to experience, it is hoped, no further interruption: still, however, it seems prudent, under every consideration of the circumstances, to keep the three offenders in duresse.
23rd.—These last three days proceeded without any further annoyance from the sailors, who appear to conduct themselves with a greater regard to decency, acting more under controul, seemingly, than might be expected from persons ignorant in the extreme of moral virtue, slaves to their passions, and amenable in scarcely any degree to discipline of any form, evidently aware of their power to act in every manner as suits their inclination. The exertions of Captain Brown, in finding the sailors constant employment, which their selfishness forbids them to refuse, and the vigilance constantly exercised over both them and the women, have changed the scene very much for the better.
The conduct of the three secluded females is, generally speaking, marked with sincere repentance, their manner being sorrowful and extremely submissive. Their confinement is still continued, in order to keep them in this state of mind, and to render the amendment already manifested secure and permanent. They were admitted to-day into the prison, and had the benefit of a religious discourse and exhortation from the Rev. Mr. Reddall, at which Captain Brown attended. The little assembly was remarkable for an appearance of cleanliness, and their demeanour showed evident signs of advancement in religious and moral feeling. It is barely justice to them to say, that in no part of the voyage had I greater reason to approve of their conduct, than since the affair of their three companions took place.
After sermon I spoke a few words, recommending to their strict attention the subject of the sermon they had just heard, adding a very brief admonition on their religious duties generally, to which they gave a marked and silent hearing: that they carry these things constantly in mind, is evident from the tenour of all their actions, almost every one of them being seen occupied with some of the religious books given them; nor is levity of manner in the slightest degree observable amongst them.
This day I had the pleasure of conferring the promised mark of approbation, proposed some time since, as a reward to the one who should first commit to memory the address with which the voyage was commenced. It is peculiarly gratifying to say, that the successful candidate is Sidney Williams, who, it may be recollected, was characterized in most alarming colours for her conduct in Newgate. Now, however, let the change in her behaviour be considered, and surely every one who loves to see the erring sinner reclaimed, advancing first in the path to virtue and excellence, must feel a sympathy in her misfortunes, and rejoice in her extraordinary recovery from wickedness.
On Friday last this girl applied to me with modest confidence to repeat the Address, requesting me to hear her in the attempt; which being complied with, she recited it with ease and accuracy. I deferred to give the promised reward till the present day; and after sermon I called Sidney Williams forward by name (a circumstance quite unusual), and having read aloud the inscription, which, according to promise, was in my own hand-writing, I presented her with a large copy of the Bible, accompanying it with expressions of warm approbation, and of encouragement to further virtuous endeavours. The effect of this little affair upon the other prisoners was, as it were, electric: they hastened to give assurances of their desire for the like distinction, but at the same time expressed no envy of Sidney Williams’s success.
27th.—This day, Thursday, at the usual hour, I read a sermon to the prisoners: the behaviour of all was as usual sedate and attentive. Their minds seem now, as far as it can be discerned, completely abstracted from all those pernicious subjects of a vicious nature which formerly occupied their thoughts, and a fixed and settled manner, according to their various tempers, characterizes every one of them. The three offenders were admitted to the sermon, and their appearance is quite lowly, and strongly bespeaks repentance. Every means that can be resorted to is employed to prevail on me to alter their sentence, and withdraw the prohibition of their appearing upon deck, promising the most rigid observance of decorum and prudent conduct, if once more tried:—but, every circumstance being duly considered, it appears most advisable to continue them still longer in their present place of security.
28th.—The behaviour of the prisoners continues orderly, sedate, and tranquil; all seeming anxious to arrive at their destination, rather from a desire to commence industrious and honest occupations than from a weariness of the voyage. Their whole conduct is such as to call forth approbation in every instance; and I find their attention and watchfulness particularly exerted to avoid any blameable action, since the late misfortune of their three companions. These latter are still continued in confinement, avoiding the frequent attempts of the sailors to induce them to a conversation.
Another gross instance of impropriety on the part of these men has this day been discovered, which is as strongly marked for its unmanly meanness as it is for its barbarity. Having no longer the opportunities of conversing with the women, as formerly they used to do in spite of every restraint, and in violation of their commander’s positive orders,—not content with annoying the confined females with their gross assiduities, they now direct their cowardly malice against the other women, watching the opportunities of the night-time,—stamping over the prison about the fore-hatchway,—making hideous noises, and crying out “The ship is sinking,”—and in every possible way disturbing the prisoners’ sleep, in alarming their fears. Sometimes their vulgar ingenuity tries the idea of a ghost stalking about the prison, and this they endeavour to communicate to them through the prison-grating, to the great distress of such as are weak enough to believe them; but the majority of the women have too much good sense to notice such rude and idle attacks.
As these malignant ruffians in this manner insult and torment the poor prisoners, who have no means of resisting or avoiding the abuse, is it not to be deemed unfortunate that no power exists to punish, or at least control, such base conduct? When spoken to concerning such proceedings, they make light of the matter, saying they merely jump about for nothing but amusement,—not offering to deny that they have done so. Were no other proof existing, the fact of such things having occurred, ought to make the establishment of some appropriate and efficient regulations in these circumstances as sure of adoption as they are imperiously requisite.
Captain Brown has severely reprimanded the sailors for their misconduct; but to this they showed the most careless indifference, still persevering in their shameful practices in defiance of his strict injunctions, and in open opposition to the officer of the watch; so that the disposition of those men, so obstinately evinced, may be productive of consequences still more serious, as no means of compelling them to alter their behaviour can be resorted to at present. Having consulted with the commander on this state of things, we have determined to avoid openly censuring them as much as possible, and allow the affair to pass without further notice, as the least mischievous proceeding they may put in practice.
30th.—This day a discourse was read in the prison. The decent appearance of the prisoners, who were as clean and neat as their circumstances would permit, was highly praiseworthy. After sermon I remarked on the necessity there was for an active co-operation on their part, by reflection and meditation, to give effect to the discourses they heard from time to time, as otherwise it would be a useless application of those valuable compositions barely to hear them read, unless they turned them to good account;—that the reading of sermons would, in fact, become an idle ceremony, should they not with earnestness and attention endeavour to benefit by the excellent advice they contained;—that in this way their time would be most profitably exercised, and every hour thus devoted would be found of increased value. I was gratified in observing, by their manner, that these hints were not thrown away, as they gave evident signs of being impressed with their truth.
Their general behaviour is in every respect unexceptionable, and I more certainly than ever, nay I may venture to say decidedly, calculate on final success in landing them, with the help of a kind providence, perfectly in health, and furnished with some sound and lasting principles of moral rectitude, and religious knowledge, in future to guide them in all their actions. The three confined females continue extremely submissive in their behaviour, and the reserve they show every day gives me greater cause to be satisfied of the propriety of keeping them still confined, the good effects of the mild yet cautious treatment they receive being so very evident. As little intercourse as possible now occurs between the other women and the sailors, although the latter seem but little ashamed of their disgraceful conduct, and behave with insolent freedom towards the prisoners whenever they can, though they meet with silent disregard. The insolence, however, of some of these men carries them frequently beyond the bounds of toleration, threatening the women and making use of infamous language without any just cause or pretence whatever.
August 1st.—This day the competition for the other prizes was decided,—Mary Broom, about ten years old, daughter of a convict, having gained the second; whilst the third was won by Mary St. John, a respectable-looking elderly prisoner, both of whom recited the address without making a mistake. The success of this trial, which was made as a substitute for employment, is the more remarkable from the previous history of the competitors;—Sidney Williams having been notorious for her profligacy,—the second worthy of notice from her youth, and unfortunate situation,—and the third, a grave matronly woman, whose example has some influence: yet, far from producing envy among the rest, these examples have served to stimulate them to similar exertions, and forty others, at least, are now busily engaged in committing the address to memory. Their endeavour to succeed affords a good deal of employment, which is the most difficult matter to invent, as all the materials furnished from the Ladies’ Committee have been long since worked up: this exercise, besides filling up some of their time, helps of course to keep in their minds a lively remembrance of the principles inculcated from the beginning.
Were it not for this lamentable want of employment, I would encourage myself to hope that the great work of their reformation might be fully effected. They are now as much under the regulation of religious precept and moral propriety, almost, as they are capable of being brought; it only remaining to be shown, as I apprehend, by their actions when again introduced into the world, that they are seriously determined on continuing this new life, heartily renouncing all their former unfortunate habits and inclinations. Of this I have satisfactory and gratifying assurances in many communications conveyed to me from several of these poor penitents, hitherto considered intractable, and who are indeed still looked upon by their less reflective companions as if they were the same giddy thoughtless beings as formerly. In these communications I am requested to continue my care of them as usual, and explain to them, at a convenient leisure, portions and texts of Scripture which they could not of themselves comprehend. It is needless almost to add, that I lose no opportunity of cultivating this disposition, and encouraging them by every means in my power to persevere in their good purposes.
Ann Newton and her companions continue to prove the sincerity of their amendment by the most correct behaviour: yet still my determination remains unchanged, not to have them exposed to the same risk again, and therefore they are constantly secluded in the hospital. Some of the sailors continue the nocturnal annoyance over the prison, as before, in defiance of remonstrance. Were it not for the misfortune of having to guard against the wicked daring of these men, I should now have nothing to concern myself about, relative to the moral conduct of the prisoners, as I may, without presumption, consider that I have, with the assistance of a gracious Providence, redeemed my engagement with regard to this truly important object. It would be a task of some difficulty to depict in true and just colours the detail of their state as it at present stands. They seem all of one family,—perfectly coalescing, and harmonized to a simplicity and reciprocal gentleness of manner, that, considering their former lives, would seem almost foreign to their nature.
2nd.—In the record of the preceding day I congratulated myself on the state of improvement for which the prisoners were remarkable, and described their demeanour as being more gentle than seemed indicated by their natural disposition. Whilst I would iterate the same opinion with confidence respecting the behaviour of the generality of them, it must not be denied that there are some few among them, whose characters I have studied to know, but whose stubborn temper there is reason to fear has not been as yet subdued, or scarcely can be so, although their minds are undoubtedly much under the influence of moral discipline.
Shortly after opening the prison this morning, I had painful evidence of this uncontrollable disposition, finding Mary Linch, a woman of ferocious character, mauling and abusing a fellow prisoner, of timid disposition and peaceful conduct, for some trifling matter of dispute; but so enraged had the latter become by the attack, as almost to equal the other in fury; and both proved so ungovernable, that I was compelled to resort to the only effectual means of coercion within my reach, that of tying the combatants together. This process in a short time brought them to reflection; they acknowledged their offence in the most humble terms, and prayed forgiveness; which, after some delay, was allowed, with an admonition in the public hearing of the other prisoners. This trifling irregularity, by disturbing the sameness of the scene, may be productive of some good, as it will make the whole more strictly observant of decent and orderly behaviour.
3rd.—This day, as usual, I read an appropriate discourse in the prison, all appearing attentive to the subject, as also to the remarks which it occurred to me to make on Linch’s late conduct. The same opportunity served to contrast her behaviour with that of the child and woman to whom I presented the prizes they had so meritoriously obtained. This affair has increased an emulative spirit among the others, who are exerting themselves to gain similar distinction.
The manner in which the three hospital prisoners are going on affords me much satisfaction; but I still consider them most securely placed out of the way of temptation where they are; and there they shall remain, as I am anxious to land them at their place of destination in a state of mind as pure as it is in my power to effect. Little doubt is on my mind that they might be safely set at large again: but for example’s sake it is best their confinement should continue; the situation of the hospital renders them healthy and comfortable. Linch also, for her savage conduct, is forbidden to appear on deck.
6th.—At the usual hour, this day, I read a sermon in the prison; and as the subject was chosen with reference to the recent misconduct of Mary Linch, and was calculated to enforce peaceable and quiet disposition generally, it was heard with remarkable attention. I alluded to the circumstances of the late affray, but avoided making it appear extravagantly wicked; my design being rather to make them love good order and meekness of mind, and to excite a dislike of discord and quarrelling. The observations were therefore of a mild and conciliatory nature;—That, as they were all driven by an irresistible necessity to continue together for a certain time, and as they must less or more feel themselves the children of misfortune and misery, it would better become them as Christians to love one another, than by indecent and useless discontents add to each others distress;—that nothing was so likely to create unhappiness as dissentions and disputes among themselves; and that the continuance of such silly squabbling would infallibly sour their minds, and deprive them of that tranquillity and decent steadiness which would secure them credit and comfort, and particularly dispose them for those different situations which awaited them among strangers, who would receive them with friendly and paternal care if they showed themselves well conducted and good, but who would naturally look upon them with abhorrence or distrust if their character appeared otherwise. These remarks had a tendency which did not disappoint expectation, and the desired effect could be easily perceived. On turning to go away, in a direction not usual, I was surprised and pleased to find an individual, who was looked upon as one of the least careful, sitting as retired as possible behind her companions and bathed in tears of repentance for her errors; I have since received from her a letter expressive of such being the state of her mind, and soliciting forgiveness for her faults. It is in this manner the effects of the system, incessantly pursued from the beginning, may be perceivable in consequences such as these.
7th.—With indignation and painful concern I must acknowledge a conviction possesses my mind, that the barriers of propriety which now so long protected the prisoners from the evil designs of the sailors are broken down, as, in spite of every precaution, and ever wakeful exertion, some of those men have succeeded in seducing four of the prisoners from their duty. The mischief having taken place, I owe it to truth and justice to state the facts as they have this day been detailed to me.
The sailors had contrived to effect a passage secretly from their own birth into the store-room beneath, through which, by opening a way in a manner completely eluding suspicion, they got forward into the ship’s hold, and ascended to the entrance of the prison at the fore-hatchway, where, by means of a duplicate key, (which to locks of this description was easily procured,) or by picking the locks, they met the females, who had previously consented to accompany them if they succeeded in getting them out. It may be recollected that the former attempt of this kind, which failed, was made at this very place; but all endeavours to get into the prison from the deck that way had been frustrated by the caution used in fastening it down every evening.
The state of the locks at this door of the prison, and indeed at the other also,—for in this respect they are alike,—made this precaution of fastening down the hatchways necessary; for the padlocks, which alone had been put on by the Government carpenters,—one only to each door,—were soon rendered useless by the action of the weather: besides, they were fitted up in such a wretched, slovenly manner, that the force of a man’s finger applied to the staple could draw it from the wood. When the women first began to come on board, there was not any lock for the doors of the prison, and I was under the necessity of fitting on two which had been sent with the medicine chests. Captain Young with great kindness supplied two stock-locks of plain construction, although the matter did not belong to his department: besides these, there were other padlocks put on, furnished by Captain Brown, as those in use became spoiled with wet and rust, to which they were constantly exposed. By the former attempt at the fore hatchway, the locks there were rendered useless; and as others furnished by Captain Brown were set on in their stead, I considered every thing secure.
In that opinion, however, I have been unfortunately mistaken, deceived by the ingenuity and perseverance of the persons against whom I was endeavouring to guard. I cannot sufficiently express my sense of satisfaction at the spirited and prompt activity of Captain Brown on this, as well as on the former occasion. Every search which I suggested, as necessary to be made in the interior of the ship in reference to the information I had received, was instantly and personally made by him with prudence and vigilance; when with much difficulty he discovered the secret passage, and the confirmation of the transaction was made manifest. With readiness and earnestness, which marked the benevolence of his character and his kind disposition, he offered to accompany me when I signified my determination to remain in the prison every night till the termination of the voyage, to defend the prisoners from every further violence, even at the peril of my life;—and in this determination I am immoveably resolved.
Thus are we placed completely at the mercy of these vile men, who now, incited by their worst passions and this success, may further extend their daring to acts of mutiny, and gratify themselves by open violence, considering us, as they may, unable to oppose any effectual resistance to any such villainous design. Moreover, the whole of the sailors, with a doubtful exception of four, seem to be all of one mind; they having, as I understand, refused yesterday their Sunday’s allowance of grog ordered by the Captain.
It would be unjust to withhold the fact, that four of the women only were concerned in this affair, not one of the others being in any way whatever implicated. In order to come at the full evidence of this transaction, I was obliged to make promise of some concession to one of the females who went below from the prison on that occasion, and by that means discovered the whole, and was the better prepared to defeat further attempts. The most secure means were used to shut up the secret passage, and the door of the prison was made fast with a thorough iron bolt, and closed up for the remainder of the voyage. The carpenter of the ship, who had been concerned, was of necessity employed in securing these fastenings,—a duty which he performed with evident reluctance. The offending females are in confinement.
11th.—The weather yesterday being exceedingly rough, and the state of the ship highly inconvenient and uncomfortable to the prisoners, a violent gale blowing, I was constrained to merely read a religious discourse as usual, deferring my remarks on the occurrences of the passing time until another opportunity, as during the reading of the sermon the vessel shipped some heavy seas, much of which made its way into the prison.
The conduct of the sailors, since the late affair, having assumed a more cautious appearance, and information having been given that another attempt upon the prison was intended, I found it necessary, therefore, to redouble my vigilance, in order to unmask any design they might have formed. They had been heard to use the most violent language regarding myself, accompanied with threats, all which I despised; but seeing the safety of the prisoners about to be assailed, a sense of duty, and a determination to protect them at any hazard, made me form the resolution of keeping watch in the prison during the night, armed with a brace of pistols to repel intrusion. This appeared the more imperiously necessary, as no security could be placed in their commander’s authority over them, further than as concerned their immediate duty in the management of the ship: accordingly I took my station below.
I remained there with a light during the night, but no attempt was made to enter: the fellows, however, amused themselves the whole night with making hideous noises through the grating at the fore hatchway, and endeavouring to provoke my angry feelings by their rude abuse. It was shocking to decency to hear their beastly language, which was much too gross for expression even in writing. It was evident they felt sore with disappointment, which makes me more than ever determined on keeping watch.
Notwithstanding the rancour with which these headstrong men persecute the prisoners by alarming their minds as much as they can, the assurance of protection they receive from my presence tranquillizes their minds considerably. Many of them of delicate constitution, whose minds were under the strong influence of religious feeling, no longer hardened by sinful habits long and sincerely renounced, felt undoubtedly all the natural concern of returning virtue, and consequently dreaded the threatened visits of the sailors, who must in such case enter the prison with open violence, and might therefore seriously abuse them;—even, as they expressed it, murder every one, and throw me overboard. I must, in justice, acknowledge that this evil is in some measure partial, one division of the men showing less active disposition to annoy, than is observable in the other. To the steady, correct and unceasing endeavours of Mr. John Moncrief, chief officer, in repressing licentiousness and maintaining good order, in support of my views, it gives me sincere pleasure to bear testimony; and to his unwearied vigilance and gentlemanly conduct throughout the voyage, not a little of the beneficial results are owing.
12th.—The sailors last night continued the noise, with additional circumstances of malicious intent, which argue a determination to persevere:—for instance, forcing a cat down to the door of the fore hatchway, fastened by a cord, they contrived to torture the animal, causing it to make the most piteous cries so as to disturb the women’s rest. Their daring disposition went much further; for, by means of a boat-hook staff, they broke down two of the bars which inclose the prison at the fore hatchway, making a considerable opening, which might be taken advantage of at that moment, perhaps, but that they were apprized of my being on the watch below, determined to fire on any one who should have the temerity to venture in.
In this almost defenceless state are the prisoners still obliged to remain, because no other means of security can be devised besides what have been employed, and no resource appears at hand to oppose the outrage, if the sailors choose to be so criminally adventurous. Captain Brown, being much concerned for the existence of abuses which he has not power either to restrain or punish, shows every desire to aid my intentions, even proposing to watch with me in turn, to share the fatigue, and let me have repose occasionally; but his attention to the navigation and management of the ship is so constantly required, that I cannot with propriety avail myself of his obliging offer.
This morning the Captain mustered the second mate’s watch upon deck, and in an animated manner reproved them very severely for their cowardly and shameful attacks on poor female prisoners, which they would not dare to do if the objects of their annoyance had the power of resistance. The behaviour of some of these men, on this occasion, was singularly insolent, audaciously denying the whole charge, the proofs of which it was not then thought fit or necessary to open to them. I candidly warned them of the danger they incurred if any of them were found attempting the injury of the prisoners, or breaking into the prison; so that if any of them met with misfortune in such circumstances, he would have himself alone to blame. Captain Brown advised them in the most impressive manner to desist for the future, and dismissed them. It remains to be seen how they mean to act after this caution; but my resolution is as fixed as ever to persevere in keeping watch and protecting the prisoners at any risk, according to my sense of duty.
13th.—Last night was spent as before; but the warning they had received operating on their fears kept them from repeating the annoyance, and the night passed without disturbance. This day, in consequence of fatigue, I felt unable to read in the usual manner to the prisoners, and the Reverend Mr. Reddall kindly officiated. I seized the moment after its conclusion, and addressed them, charging them with laxity of manners, as unfortunately witnessed in some of them on a recent occasion;—pointed out to them the unhappy state of mind which must attend a relapse from virtue, and the misery which those women must now feel for having forsaken their duty;—showed, that vice and virtue, as they must well know, are irreconcileable, and that the hearts of those unhappy frail ones must now make them painfully sensible how degraded and wretched their misconduct must have rendered them. A burst of sorrowful feeling announced their conviction of this truth, and one would gladly at least suppose, that with this impression on their minds, nothing could induce them to transgress again.
They appeared to reproach themselves for the sacrifice of rest and comfort they made me endure. Taking advantage of this state of mind, I entreated them to reflect seriously on their duty, keeping constantly in mind the absolute necessity there was, now more than ever, to avoid, under every pretence whatsoever, the company and conversation of the sailors. I assured them that any found unmindful of this line of conduct, should be instantly confined, and not allowed a moment from the prison until they were handed over to their sentence, which should visit them in all its heaviness, as no effort would be made to lighten the burden of their misfortunes,—and that they must go forth to their lot tainted with characters more black and odious than what their former crimes had brought upon them. I was afterwards under the necessity of using harsh measures with one of the late offenders, Mary Linch, who, disregarding the injunction imposed on her for beating one of her fellow-prisoners, had the temerity to break through her confinement and go upon deck.
15th.—The personal inconvenience to which I have subjected myself by keeping watch in the prison, and which I mean to continue in order to defeat every machination which the licentiousness of the sailors may attempt, however distressing in its effects upon myself it may prove, has been attended with much advantage; as, by breaking up any plans they may have formed, their insolence has been repressed, and their forwardness to mischief overawed. Besides, the conduct of the women, such I mean as may have had a leaning towards a dereliction of duty, and of those sentiments of returning virtue acquired on the voyage, were checked in their relapse, and brought by a sense of shame to a proper recollection and recovery of themselves; so that nothing at present exists to disturb a harmony as perfect seemingly as what I had recently congratulated myself upon, previously to the late occurrence. On account of the severe weather, a heavy gale blowing with constant rain, the women could not get their cooking done, and to show them a little indulgence I issued an additional ration of wine.
16th.—The restoration of order and proper conduct among the prisoners, the sailors also having discontinued their nocturnal annoyance, had led me to think my watching in the prison any longer was unnecessary; but accident has put in my way a paper which has considerably altered my mind on that point. This paper, which I found last night in the prison, appears to have been written to one of the prisoners by a sailor concerned in the late attempted breach into the prison: the hand-writing is evidently disguised, but the contents betray a determination to break down the bars of the prison as soon as they should perceive that I was become weary of watching. “There are plenty of us to do it,” says this curious document, and its intimations in general are so direct, that I think myself imperatively bound to persevere in the arduous duty I have proposed to myself.
The contents of this paper should have been inserted here at length, but that many expressions in it are too indecent for publicity: however, if any person have a wish to inspect it, I have preserved it for that purpose, as the best evidence of the fact, that violence may be threatened with impunity on such an occasion. It contains also a threat against myself, which of course I despise;—in this respect, however, they appear to have an eye towards my pistols, as the same important paper plainly shows.
17th.—At the usual hour this day I read a sermon to the prisoners, to which they were all exceedingly attentive. The remarks which it appeared necessary to make on passing occurrences, produced a strong impression on their minds, and many shed tears of painful remembrance over those crimes which brought them to their present wretched state, and found in their sorrow relief from their reflections.
The weather being excessively cold and inclement from the nature of the season, and the high latitudes through which the ship’s course lay, the cooks found it difficult to dress the victuals: I therefore signified my intention to allow them wine four times a week, should their conduct merit such indulgence.
Many of the prisoners had worked up the straw and the other materials for industrious employment;—some into decent bonnets for themselves,—others the like for sale, out of which they hoped to make as much as would help to equip them respectably on landing, and for that purpose solicited my interference to procure them purchasers.
20th.—The constant system of keeping watch at night in the prison, has completely disconcerted the designs of the sailors, who, having committed themselves in a wilful breach of propriety which they cannot now turn to the base purposes they had proposed, are evidently filled with disappointment and vexation, and they appear the more annoyed as there is no possible way for venting their dastardly malice. Besides, they are ashamed of their late behaviour in worrying the women during the night, from the contempt cast upon such unmanly tricks. At all events, they seem to have given up that part of their plan, as no disturbance now takes place during the night: yet I have sufficient cause to believe they will renew their attempts on the prison, should any opportunity offer.
This day a discourse on the mischiefs of idleness was delivered in the prison, and the remarks with which it was followed appeared to act forcibly upon their minds, if a judgement may be formed from the tears of contrition which some of the late delinquents copiously shed, when I desired them to ask themselves—whether it was not in a moment of idleness they had unfortunately given way to that temptation which led them into their late transgression against religion, virtue, and order. To the others I addressed some advice on the value of time, and the necessity of not letting a moment pass without doing something useful; and to avoid every thing which could tend to disunite them, or sour their minds against one another, as by cultivating good-will and friendly feeling among themselves, now, they would be the better fitted for those employments which they will have to resort to during the term of their sentence. The transition to the idea of their unfortunate circumstances drew reflection to their situation, and gave a favourable moment to impress upon them a thorough sense of those duties by which they must be regulated in that country in which they were now nearly on the point of being landed. The behaviour of the sequestered females is satisfactorily humble and correct.
21st.—The tranquillity of the prison continues undisturbed by the sailors at night, although circumstances occurring during the day betray their intention of further mischief, should an opportunity be open to encourage the attempt. The conduct of the penitent offenders continues to exhibit unequivocal marks of sincere return to virtuous reflection; and in proportion as the voyage draws near to its termination, the interest excited by their compunction increases.
Their companions from Newgate, who have remained unblemished, and progressively improving, use the most earnest intercession for the offenders, praying to have them united with them once more. In this instance, the recollection of the danger they had incurred made me unwilling to listen to this charitable advocacy; but they, with a kind perseverance which does them credit, applied to the Reverend Mr. Reddall, and this amiable man lent his assistance to their wishes, putting into writing the prisoners’ sentiments, which he this day presented to me in the form of a letter, in the name of all the females from Newgate, signed also by the penitents.
With this entreaty my compliance was easy, both in compliment to the intercessor, and from a wish to cultivate the disposition shown by the petitioners. I accompanied the reverend gentleman to the hospital, where, having called them together, I remarked with much earnestness on their general state, gave them my hearty forgiveness, and promised to befriend them in every possible way. It would be difficult to express the feelings of gratitude they displayed;—it was signified in sobs and tears;—it was eloquent in the interruption of their emotions. One, the most distinguished for habitual levity, was the most fervent in her expressions of mingled joy, shame, and sorrow; she fell on her knees, and repeatedly asked for that pardon which had already been pronounced. The scene was affecting to those present. I encouraged them to persevere in their present resolutions, and told them that they were now at perfect liberty to mix with their companions, but forbade them positively to go on deck, which I assured them was purely for their own welfare. They with one voice requested to be continued in their present sequestered situation, as best suiting their state of mind; to which request they had my ready consent. The following is a copy of their letter:
“Morley, at Sea, Aug. 21, 1820.
“Honoured Sir,
“It is in the deepest sorrow of soul we presume to pray your regard to our wretched situation. We never till now knew what it was to be completely unfortunate, because we have drawn it all upon ourselves by listening to the false persuasions of the wicked sailors, who have led us astray from our duty to God and you. We scarcely dare ask your forgiveness, our crime has been so bad, and our ingratitude so great; and yet we cannot bear the distress we are in at the thought of having acted as we have done.
“If our repentance can at all wipe away our offence, we beg most earnestly that you will bear witness to its sincerity; and at least be assured that we will not any more give you cause to be offended with us. But if your goodness will pardon our weakness, and overlook this transgression, our whole lives shall be given to make amends for what we have unfortunately done. We do not desire to go upon deck any more, but we humbly hope you will not send us away in anger; and although we merit a poor character from you, we hope you will pity us, and be as lenient as you can.
“We venture to offer our most grateful thanks for the goodness and care you have always shown to,
“Honoured Sir,
“Your penitent and unhappy servants.”
(Signed by seven.)
“Thomas Reid, Esq.
Surgeon, &c. Ship Morley.”
22nd.—About two hours past the last midnight, the men of the same watch, whose indecent and unlawful doings have been so often already noticed, being on deck in turn, prepared to avail themselves of an advantage arising from an injury done to the bars of the prison, at the fore-hatchway, which had been crushed and displaced by the striking of a small cask, as it was hoisting from the hold. This damage, which occurred yesterday, could not then be effectually repaired, and this almost paper edifice had no protection except the wretched locks upon the hatchway. Of this I was aware, and remained on the alert in case of any attack.
At the hour above mentioned I heard the hatchway locks at the grating distinctly opened and shut, no doubt by means of duplicate keys, and afterwards a rustling noise was heard as if the fellows were descending. This noise suddenly ceased,—no attempt further was made, nor any more annoyance given during the rest of the night. During this affair the utmost tranquillity prevailed throughout the prison, not one of the women having stirred; nor does it appear that any of them were aware of the circumstance.
24th.—At the usual hour I read a sermon in the prison, and have much cause to bestow commendation on the propriety generally evinced by the women. In my remarks I adverted to their behaviour latterly, bestowing merited praise on those who continued to observe the rules of moral and religious instruction which they had heard so frequently and with such evident benefit, since the beginning of the voyage, and who had uniformly testified their love for good conduct by never swerving from their duty. To those who had unfortunately relapsed, but whose subsequent contrition had cancelled their offence, I held forth the language of commiseration and forgiveness, exhorting them never to confide again in themselves alone to guard against sin, but with fervent and frequent prayer to entreat the aid of divine grace, when their reformation could not fail to be perfect, and their peace of mind ensured.
The sailors in appearance show less hostility than heretofore, and no further annoyance is offered during the night; the women also seem in no instance whatever to hold communication with them, even in passing conversation.
27th.—Matters continue progressively interesting, as the period approaches when the final separation is to take place between those intended for the colony at Van Diemen’s Land, and those proceeding afterwards to Sydney. A thoughtfulness marks every turn and action, mingled with sadness in some, and resignation in others; whilst many openly regret the termination of the voyage, as putting an end to comforts of mind and condition which they had not before enjoyed, and had not to expect in the place to which they were going. Still, however rarely, a trace of wild temper breaks in spite of all sincerity of intention to the contrary. This unhappy tendency of early habit was shown this morning by one of the younger prisoners, (Ann Farrell,) who for some very trifling cause quarrelled with and beat one of her companions. In the fervour of the confusion my presence put an end to animosity, which was instantly succeeded by tears of sorrow.
A sermon on the immortality of the soul was this day read in the prison by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. After its conclusion, I drew their attention forcibly to the subject, by reminding them of a similar discourse having been addressed to many of them in Newgate by Mrs. Fry. This allusion to their beloved benefactress called forth a flood of tears, with the strongest expression of feelings I ever witnessed among them, the whole exhibiting a scene highly complimentary to the revered object of their affectionate remembrance, and creditable to the poor women themselves: the effusion was spontaneous, full, and general; for most of them had known the lady’s goodness and humane exertions from their own experience, and the others mingled sympathetic tears with theirs. One moment such as this, even in the minds of those proud ones whose disdain for their former offences would spurn the unhappy wretches, would restore them surely to pity and protection. The haughtiest contemner of the sinner must, in this genuine display of gratitude and sorrow blended together, have instantly forgotten the errors of the past, and have felt confidence in the renovated purity bespeaking such humble declarations of contrition and fervent affection towards that bright and happy benevolence, which with sweet persuasion first led them back from the ways of sin and death, and taught them to cherish a hope of happy immortality.
28th.—In a former part of this volume I stated my firm belief, that even convicts are susceptible of gratitude; and in this opinion am I further confirmed by the feelings of the unfortunate creatures committed to my care, as expressed in the following letter addressed to me, and presented by the Reverend Mr. Reddall. The zealous and unwearied benevolence of this gentleman induced him often to visit them in the prison, for the humane purpose of giving useful counsel to those who might be disposed to receive it: on one of those occasions they solicited him to write this letter, expressive of their sense of obligation; they afterwards put their names to it, to be delivered to me before any of them left the ship.
“Morley, at Sea, Aug. 28, 1820.
“Honoured Sir,
“As the voyage, through Divine Providence, is now near its close, and feeling as we do, indeed as we ought, the full force of your good-will towards us, it would ill accord with the impressions on our minds, fixed there by your faithful performance of every good office for the promotion of our comfort and our good, did we not assure you of our gratitude, and offer you our thanks.
“These latter, it is true, are but of little worth; but they are the offerings of sincerity, and we know you will not despise them: the former will, we trust, be kept fresh within us to the latest days of our pilgrimage below, by thinking on your many virtues, and by the recollection of your truly benevolent and unceasing attention to our various wants and best interests during the passage. If, Sir, we consider the numerous cases which required your professional skill and attendance among us, we are reminded of your promptitude and attention, whether required by day or by night.—If we reflect on your zeal for our moral and religious improvement, we feel how much we owe, and how little we can ever repay you.—If we place you before us as our protector, your unshaken firmness in the face of danger,—your rectitude of conduct, which the virtuous alone possess,—and the great deprivations of rest and comfort we are grieved to say you are enduring on our account, entitle you to every good feeling, in return, of which our hearts are capable.
“Honoured as we have thus been by you, and favoured by your sympathizing distribution of those comforts tenderly and humanely provided for us by the Government of our beloved country, the grief of mind our unhappy cases must naturally have excited within us has been greatly assuaged; and we trust that, through the grace of God, your good advice and able instruction in moral virtues and religious truths will not be lost upon us, but that we shall benefit by your counsel, when you will be in happier climes: and, Sir, if through your instrumentality we shall again become worthy members of society, wherever we may be placed, we shall have continual cause to bless you, and to offer up our prayers for that Government which has placed us under your valuable protection.
“Receive then, most respected Sir, our united best wishes for your every good, temporal and eternal; and permit us to be, with a grateful sense of our obligation,
“Your faithful and dutiful servants.”
(Signed by one hundred and twenty-one.)
“To Thomas Reid, Esq. Surgeon, &c.
From the female Convicts
on board the ship Morley.”
29th.—In the afternoon of yesterday Van Diemen’s Land came in sight; but the Captain deeming it safest kept the ship laid to, and this morning again making sail, we arrived with a favourable wind in the Derwent, and anchored before Hobart-Town about half-past three in the afternoon, when the Naval Officer came on board. Soon after I waited on His Honour the Lieutenant Governor with dispatches from the Secretary of State for the Colonial Department, and was informed that a considerable number of the convicts would be received at this destination. The conduct of the women since the last date has been highly meritorious, with the exception of a trifling irregularity charged upon an elderly prisoner, which not having been sufficiently substantiated deserved no further notice.
30th.—Captain Brown having had occasion to go on shore this morning on the ship’s concerns, and it being necessary for me to wait upon the Lieutenant Governor, it appeared best to delay until the Captain’s return. In the afternoon I went ashore to see the Lieutenant Governor, who signified his intention of coming on board the Morley to-morrow. There having been a very heavy fall of snow, which continued the greater part of the day with sleet and squalls, the women were obliged to remain below. Nothing in their conduct has occurred to lessen my good opinion of them. They appear all in excellent disposition, and quite resigned to their situation. The anxiety of many of them is extreme to ascertain who are to be left at Hobart-Town; but though I am aware, from conversation with the Lieutenant Governor, that fifty at least will be required for this colony, still it seems more prudent to withhold that information, as they might otherwise feel themselves released from accustomed restraint, and, if so disposed, might be tempted to give loose to some irregularities.
However favourable the present state of circumstances be, I shall continue my nightly watching, until the termination of the affair is more satisfactorily decided by the removal of such women as are used to attract the attention of the sailors. The state of the prison is singularly tranquil, and the conduct of the sailors is remarkably quiet and reserved.
31st.—Having watched over the conduct of the prisoners throughout the day, I was detained by various concerns in the prison until half-past eight last evening, when I retired to my cabin to prepare the necessary papers for the women who were to go on shore. This did not occupy me more than one hour and a quarter; and on returning to keep watch for the night, I found that the sailors had, in my absence, taken four females out of the prison. Having made immediate search, assisted by Captain Brown and the chief mate, I discovered three of them in the hammocks of three of the sailors; the fourth, who was elsewhere concealed with a sailor, came from her hiding-place;—the four were of course put immediately in proper restraint.
At an early hour this morning I waited on the Lieutenant Governor, and laid the whole affair before him, when he entered warmly into the merits of the case, and promised his full support. This circumstance hastened His Honour’s determination to come on board, as he had previously intended. About 11 A. M. the Lieutenant Governor came and inspected the condition of the prisoners, expressing in strong terms his approbation of their appearance, and also the satisfaction he felt, and the conviction he entertained of their moral improvement. Agreeably to promise, I interested myself in their behalf, and obtained a comfortable settlement for many of the most deserving, and enabled the others destined for this dependency to indulge in the most pleasing expectations as to the same effect.
The Lieutenant Governor having returned, a constable came on board by order of His Honour, and took into custody the four sailors with whom the women had been found, also a fifth who was principally concerned in taking them out of the prison: he was about taking them away, when the remaining crew, in the most violent and mutinous manner, broke off their work; three of them forced the constable to take them also as prisoners along with the other five; to which the constable felt himself compelled to submit. The rest refused to return to their duty, and to a man went below. The Police Magistrate, Mr. Humphrey, who was not in town when I waited on the Lieutenant Governor in the morning, now came off to the ship, followed by a serjeant with a file of soldiers. On his coming aboard, the sailors were commanded by Captain Brown, by the advice of the Magistrate, to go to their duty; but they obstinately refused. The Magistrate in the most mild and liberal manner advised them to reflect on their imprudence, and pointed out to them the serious consequences they incurred by such behaviour. Still they persisted, directing their whole violence of abuse against me for having, as they said, threatened to shoot any of them who should come in my way,—with other strange and unfounded clamours of the same kind. To the remonstrances of the Magistrate they appeared to pay but little attention, although the soldiers were drawn up under arms beside them. Upon their alluding to me, I openly challenged them then or at any other time to advance any charge they might have against me, as I was perfectly amenable to the laws, if my conduct were not correct; but, at the same time, I renewed my warning to them in the most solemn manner, not to be found trespassing on the precincts of my duty, else, if they did not keep in recollection this salutary caution, they would with positive certainty have to repent of their folly. After much silly and vulgar rodomontade, they suddenly changed their tone, and one by one, in the most ungracious manner, laid aside their stubbornness and returned to their work.
In the mean time the three sailors who had forced themselves on the constable, and were conducted to prison, having been humanely reprimanded by the Lieutenant Governor and sent back, came again on board and went to work like the rest: the soldiers, however, were ordered to remain on guard upon deck during the night. The sullen manner in which the sailors returned to their duty convinced me that they harboured evil designs, and from information received, I had been previously assured that they had formed an intention of offering to me serious personal injury; I have therefore determined to keep watch in the prison as before, and in the most effective manner to repel their aggressions.
Nothing can be more plainly demonstrative of the deplorable state of insubordination existing among sailors in the merchant service, than the occurrences of this day have proved; for, over such selfish and ungrateful beings the master can exercise no authority whatever of a coercive nature, whilst they, acting on an arbitrary code of regulations formed among themselves, can insult him with impunity, the law allowing him no redress. In this state of things the voyage must depend for its comforts, security, and in some measure for its success, on their capricious combinations.
September 1st.—Last night passed away without further disturbance on the part of the sailors, and the guard was this morning recalled. Having to wait on the Lieutenant Governor, by appointment, in the forenoon, I was obliged to anticipate my usual hour, and shortly after 9 A. M. assembled the women in the prison, accompanied by the Reverend Mr. Reddall and Captain Brown, to read to them the following farewell address prepared for the occasion.
On many former occasions of this kind their behaviour demanded from me the strongest approbation; but I must confess that on the present the feeling evolved in the course of this duty was such as would be creditable to any Christian assembly whatever. Their expressions of grief and contrition for the errors which had placed them in their present unhappy situation were poignant in the extreme, and would indeed be difficult of description. The keen sense of virtue acquired by fruitful repentance made them look down upon themselves as deeply degraded by vice, and cast an additional gloom and disgrace over their punishment. That hour I found indeed full reward for all the pains I had taken in their improvement, because it showed me that, however frail and erring some of them might still prove, the far greater number were sensibly, and I would hope permanently, reformed.