The Tasmanian colonists were soon instructed by the press that the theory of dispersion was exploded. They were astonished to find fresh convict vessels hovering on their shores; but more still were they amazed to learn that Earl Grey seriously professed that by sending all the convicts to Van Diemen's Land he substantially realised dispersion. He indeed promised to provide an equal amount of emigration, but they knew that these projects were illusive. They had before them the addition of convict ticket holders, by hundreds, to thousands and tens of thousands already in the colony; there to struggle with their predecessors for bread. Such was the prospect of 1848.


SECTION IV

"I hope," said Lord John Russell, "that when the house does come seriously to consider any bill having the question of transportation directly in view, it will consider the benefit of the colonies as well as of the mother country. I own I think it has been too much the custom both to pass acts imposing the penalty of transportation with a view rather to the convenience of this country than to the reformation of persons known to be of vicious habits, or to the interest of the colonies to which they were sent. We are bound to consider those interests likewise. We are bound when we are planting provinces, perhaps what may in future time be empires, to endeavour that they should not be merely seats of malefactors and of convicts, but communities fitted to set an example of virtue and happiness, and not to make plantations, as Lord Bacon says, of the scum of the land" (June, 1847). Such were the sentiments of the prime minister on penal colonisation. The secretary of the home department and the secretary for the colonies had been equally explicit. Could they really believe their own doctrine, when their practice was exactly opposite to its plainest dictates?

The revolution in the policy of the crown everywhere excited astonishment and indignation. The minister, who denounced penal colonisation as a national crime—who had pleaded the cause of the colony and pledged the redress of its grievances—who, in short, had professed himself a disciple of Archbishop Whately—continued to pour convicts by thousands where for every free man there were two in bond. Destitute of legislative and physical power, the colonists could do nothing but deprecate. Every principal town and public body renewed their entreaties. To give them in full would be but to repeat statements of similar import. However variously expressed, they could scarcely deepen the unavoidable convictions of the world.

In their numerous petitions the colonists referred to the public joy which had greeted an offer of abolition,—accepted not less as a signal interference of providence than as a proof of the equity of the British government. They slightly censured Sir William Denison who had called for four thousand convicts annually, against the petitions of 5,320 colonists, 624 parents and guardians, representing 3,355 souls; against the memorials of the clergy of every sect, the oldest magistrates, and most opulent settlers, and public meetings everywhere decisive, and they entreated deliverance from an experiment more hopeless than its predecessors. They reminded the government of Great Britain that the colony was now entitled to abolition, not only as a measure politic in itself, but as guaranteed by the deliberate and solemn promise of the minister, promulgated by the representative of the crown.

A massive volume would be insufficient to contain the petitions, letters, and despatches produced in this controversy. Colonists well qualified to maintain the popular cause devoted to this question the best years of life.

Sir William Denison, although opposed to one form of transportation, maintained its substance with a pertinacity which never wavered. He stood almost alone. He adopted the opinion that the supply of labor to the colonies of this hemisphere was within the special province of his government. The tendency of high wages to demoralise the workman and retard the prosperity of employers, are prominent topics in all his discourses and writings. Thus the masses of the people inferred that his schemes were hostile to their welfare, and that the depression of the working classes was a primary object of his policy. The opulent settlers had abandoned these considerations under the influence of higher aims. They were resolved to trust to the experience of other colonies where—with a demand for labor—a rapid enlargement of capital and diminished crime seemed to prove that the moral and material interests of the wealthy and industrial classes were not incompatible. The social recovery of the colony could only be effected by the influx of families, and a comfortable subsistence was indispensable to attract them. The arguments of the governor, addressed to momentary interests, were overpowered by a desire to stand on a level with free peoples. The disputants on both sides were in possession of facts favorable to their respective opinions. Whatever evils were proved against transportation, the labor it afforded had been long employed. Habit had reconciled the minds of many to its inferiority; and the means of supplying its place were confessedly contingent and remote. A new society, having no disabilities to remove, no moral stain to obliterate, and formed of elements in natural proportion, could not hesitate a moment. Economical experience would dictate the rejection of slaves. But to clear away the refuse of a long-existing social state, and to build anew, was a formidable undertaking, however certain of reward. Many landholders and masters foresaw the trials attending the transition, but were willing to encounter them to attain an object beyond all price. "We wish it," said one of their manifestos, "to go forth to England, and to England's Queen, that we are not expecting solicitation or waiting for bribes; but knowing what we do, and prizing as man must ever prize the sources of gain, our resolution is taken,—relying on the sympathy of mankind, we cast ourselves on the goodness of Almighty God, and dare all hazards, that our children may be virtuous, and their country free."

The expression of colonial feeling was accepted by most respectable dissentients as decisive. The settlers least averse to transportation were disgusted with the ever-changing views of the ministers. In the preceding ten years they had never known an hour's repose. In '38, the parliamentary committee condemned assignment. In '40, Lord John Russell stopped transportation. In '41, Captain Maconochie's mark system was in the ascendant. In '42, Lord Stanley's probation scheme sprang up. In '45, Mr. Gladstone projected the North Australian colony for ticket-holders. In '46, Earl Grey propounded the Tasmanian convict village scheme. In '47, he announced total abolition. In '48, another complete revolution took place, and all convicts were to be sent to Van Diemen's Land. This extravagance of upstart theory and fitful experiment without end, all tended to check colonial enterprise and destroy the public tranquillity.

In whatever sense Earl Grey announced abolition in '47, it was clear that free emigration was essential to his plan when he proposed to resume it in '48. The funds he assigned for this purpose were sums,—the cost of their exile—to be exacted from ticket-holders as the price of freedom. But these funds were wholly prospective. Insuperable difficulties opposed their collection. Nor was the principle just. The sickly and unskilful would have stood at a greater distance from liberation than the clever and robust. The successful thief could purchase his freedom, and leave behind his more honest shipmates. The criminal being confounded with the debtor, a penal sentence would have ended in a civil process. Earl Grey proposed to add to the free population by the expenditure of £10,000, granted by the parliament, but it was found that the families of convicts were to be the chief participants. Thus resumption cut off all hope of free emigration. Nor was it even desirable while the laboring classes were in poverty. The settlers had the example of New South Wales before them; where even the sudden stoppage of transportation had been followed by rapid recovery. They were willing to combat their difficulties alone. "Such," said they, "will at no distant period be the condition of this country should the government prove just. And then, with its fertile valleys, clothed with abundance and filled with life, and its pure salubrious atmosphere giving length of days, it will need no other attractions than nature has conferred—no other commerce than the commerce of freedom—no patronage save the enterprise of its children. From the crown we ask nothing except to spare us from further wrong, and to accept our grateful loyalty in return for the uplifting of a burden too heavy to bear."