The deposition of Bligh was occasioned by this fatal appetite: whether from sullenness, or conviction, he discouraged the vendors of rum, and attempted to obstruct their living on the vices of the prisoners. The landing of a still, and its seizure, was followed by a series of altercations, which led to the military rebellion, and terminated his government. This event roused the public attention for a moment, to the state of the colony. In 1811-12 a committee of the House of Commons was appointed "to enquire into the manner in which the sentence of transportation had been executed, and the effects produced by that mode of punishment." The result was remarkable: the committee advised that more constitutional tribunals should be established, and distillation allowed.[102] The ministers of the day feebly vindicated the royal commission violated in the deposition of Bligh; and having once more set in motion the machine of legal government by the appointment of Macquarie, fell back into long slumber. Thenceforth, and for many years, rum was a great agent in the working of government, and the source of private opulence. The monopoly escaped official hands, but the expirees succeeded to the profitable calling. The large fortunes accumulated by many, were rarely derived from any other trade. Their prosperity was traced with startling uniformity: they sold their spirits to the settlers for produce, which they vended at the royal stores: they indulged them with credit, until hopelessly involved, when mortgages were executed, and foreclosed with a rapidity and precision which leaves modern conveyancing in the shade.[103] Individual powers of consumption were incredibly great: the expiree farmer, and his not more intemperate prisoner servant, broached the vessel, poured out its contents into buckets, and drank until they were insensible, or until, roused to frantic vigor, they were swift to shed blood. Such scenes were common.[104]
The specious advantage to the revenue, exhibited by our colonial statistics, protected a vice so useful. The influence of this interest cannot be overstated: to put down spirit drinking would, in equal proportion, disturb colonial finance. The demands of the public service were always in advance of its means, and no colonial administration was found sufficiently enlightened or courageous to add the prevention of this poisonous indulgence to the other consequences of banishment.
Macquarie revived the policy of the Stuarts, in regulating this trade: to Messrs. Wentworth, Riley, and Blaxland, he granted (1810) the exclusive privilege of importation, and by the duty they paid (7s. per gallon), erected a hospital. They proved, in defiance of economists, how monopoly can, sometimes, enlarge the supply, and thus increase the demand. They dispatched their agents to the Mauritius, India, and the Cape, and bought at 2s. 6d. per gallon; and arrack and rum deluged the colony. The success of their enterprise was great: in less than two years they obtained sufficient to raise the edifice, which could not want occupants, and cost more than £20,000.
The effects of this measure were flagrant: a letter, addressed by Marsden, the chaplain, to Macquarie, depicted the wretched condition of the prisoners. The scenes of dissipation which passed before him deprived him of repose. Free women, living at Parramatta, unprovided with public shelter, ran headlong into vice, and dropped all around him, slain by rum and dissipation. He stood aghast and powerless before the devastation: at times he observed, "I envy the situation of the most menial servant, who is free from this solemn and sacred responsibility."[105] The reply of Macquarie was witty rather than relevant. He told Lord Sidmouth, in effect, that the sorrows of Marsden were too deep for discovery: noted for the cheerfulness, and even gaiety of his temper, his movements were too rapid for grief; and his days, divided between the cares of farming, grazing, and trade—to say nothing of his clerical occupation—left him no time for sorrow.[106] The evils he described are, however, proved by uniform testimony: they must exist where dealing in spirits is the sure path to wealth, and wealth the title to social distinction.
In the Rocks, drunkenness and debauchery were constant and undisguised: persons of respectable appearance, in the day time, were liable to mal-treatment; but those who, in the night, entered the "fortress of iniquity," were usually stripped and plundered. Broils and boxing matches were of perpetual occurrence; the public-houses were "fences;" and degraded women, in large numbers, crowded these dens of thieves.[107]
It is not necessary to give a chronological history of the spirituous epoch. The reign of intemperance commenced with the first proclamation: it received all the protection of law, and the favour of government: it was embodied in our penal administration. Whether it was possible to check its mischief, some may doubt; but that it has clenched the population fast; that it has formed our gangs—crowded our prisons; that it has covered our scaffolds, and filled ten thousand graves—is certain as death!
The correspondence maintained between the convicts and their friends, informed them of their prosperity. The alluring picture, drawn by those whose bondage was past, exhibited a social state, precisely suited to the taste of their kindred and acquaintance. The sensual and dissolute were tempted by the riotous jollity of the "Rocks;" those fond of equivocal commerce with the profits of trade; and others were cheered by the assurance that a friend in bonds would find a nominal master in a relative or former friend, when the formalities of inspection were over.[108] Such as brought out spoil, were besieged with offers of investment, and found themselves in a market where money was the passport to favor and indulgence; others, less fortunate, were pillaged by those who crowded them with welcomes,[109] or drawn into bargains which proved that no cozening art was lost.
To illustrate the occasional good fortune of prisoners, one Hazard, may be worth remembrance: he had been before transported; in 1815, he arrived under a second sentence, for life. While on the voyage out, he purchased a quantity of tobacco: he received, on landing, a ticket-of-leave; immediately married the daughter of an innkeeper, and obtained a license, in the name of his wife, to the same calling: he was patronised by the most respectable settlers, and enjoyed prosperity until his death, only five years after his arrival.