1855-1857 Some Random Reminiscences Lower Hunter River

[TRANSCRIPTION OF MANUSCRIPT BY THOMAS WHITLEY, 1908]

Mr George Robertson – with the best wishes of the compiler giving lively recollections of “Fifty years ago.” From Thomas Whitley, Blackheath. Christmastide 1908.

[Dedication Page]

1855…..1857 Some Random Reminiscences Lower Hunter River New South Wales Personal Topographical Poetical and Other Additions of various date

Smoking Room Edition O.K.

[Title Page]

Reminiscences of Lower Hunter R. N.S. Wales 1855…1857

Some years before the Iron Horse made entry into its valley, and when communication with Sydney was dependent upon the rival services of two steamboat companies. The efficiency of these competitive companies was an immense gain to the district in regard to its better development. But however effective, the introduction of the railway produced, of course, a revolution in both carrying and travelling facilities. It is proposed to jot down a few memoranda from these past days, chiefly pertaining to a locality, which even yet from its position on the sinuous course of the river, is somewhat removed from full advantage of railway influences. These companies ran each of them a crack steamer, leaving its wharf in Darling Harbour daily at 11 pm., the “Australian Steam Navigation Company running on this branch of its extensive

1 trade the “Illalong”; against the “Hunter” – Captain Petley, specially imported by the “Hunter R. New Steam Navigation Company”:- when outside Sydney Heads just approaching midnight, these beauties frequently raced, sometimes fire streaming from their funnels; and going for all they were worth to the locality of “Nobby’s”; likely enough blowing off steam and awaiting daylight to enter the port of Newcastle, and proceed from thence to their destination at the head of the navigation. The bustle attending this traffic became the Event of the day at the township of Raymond Terrace – of courtesy to be called the “Town”, a dignity attained some years later by incorporation_. Situate at the junction of the Hunter and Williams rivers, it gave the starting point to the road tapping the “Aust’. Agricultural Company” territory by Stroud, Gloucester and Carrington. Above the town, and upon the Williams R. was the celebrated “Irrawang” – (an early; if not the pioneer, “Vine-yard” of the Hunter R. district. Its proprietor Mr King, had established pottery works there also, among his early doings. Below the town

2 was the settlement of Tomago, also the well known vineyards of the Windeyer family. Opposite “the Terrace” and occupying each bank of the river upon the junction were two settlements, the lower one named “Miller’s Forest”, and that upon the actual fork of the rivers “Nelson’s Plains”; Miller’s Forest being endowed with a nationality almost exclusively of Hibernian – the other, as nearly, of Scottish extraction. The (Govt) punt, worked by hand power crossed at “the Forest”, connecting with the routes to Maitland, Hexham, etc.;- the settlement enjoyed the larger population of the two, and from miscellaneous causes, as drowning under the punt going away home after the fun was over on Saturday, etc. afforded more employment to the Coroner, than the rest of the locality combined. Its folk spent money galore when there to spend; a few seasons free from drought or flood – making things appear to possess an average of the lively, for which they might fairly claim the credit. There was a frequent halloballoo and shindy kicked up across the river, after

the “Polis” perhaps had seen occasion to run the lot into the punt as a riddance from the town; any business for settlement ensuing, being usually strictly arranged amongst themselves at their own “leisure and pleasure”: generally the outcome was not alarmingly serious. The locality abounded in old identities. One among them comes pat to hand, and in connexion with the “Bhoys” just shipped away in the punt. 'Billy the Briton”- had been an ardent Orangeman in the older flourishing days of that institution, later to be revived, or recuscitated, by the wretched Clontarf incident. ‘Billy’ was a curious experience for the younger generation on “the Terrace,” holding forth right manfully on his favorite topics, he was somewhat of a novelty amongst them, so far. ‘Billy’ in beer, interested even more. “The Briton” certainly was prone to holiday celebrations, frequent birthdays, etc., and sometimes made injudicious choice of his company: when loaded up, using aphorism for argument, he would fire off “To H_ with the Pope” under any

circumstances whatsoever. This led to grievous trouble and the consequent leatherings seemed destitute of result by way of cure. The town had a run of prosperity but had a terrible set back in the devastating flood of 1857, concurrent with the tremendous gale, long referred to as “Dunbar” weather, from the wreck of that illfated ship in July at Sydney Heads. Following upon this was a considerable dispersion to the Manning and other districts: the farmers taking up holdings under operation of the new land act. A divergence of the route to New England following, added to adverse effects which it took long to recover. The location of Scottish people on Nelson’s Plains is attributable to the arrival of a number of free persons, Highlanders chiefly, in the early /30’s, and an arrangement made by government, on their behalf, with a large land proprietor, Mr Eales. An old respected resident among them, at the date of these memoranda, but a somewhat later arrival, held tenancy for 150 acres (inclusive of salt land) situate on the actual fork of the river

5 at an equalized rental of three bushels of wheat pr acre. Wheat growing had been locally more extensive, and was then further declining. Mr Aitchison - in his earlier days - becoming farm manager to this gentleman took control of the farm servants assigned under government. The new manager entertained aversion to the customary use of the lash, and decided to work the farm independently of current ideas and practice. Mustering his men on taking charge, he explained himself regarding obedience to orders issued - upon obtaining proper result from their allotted work which it was his duty to see performed etc.; but, that his decision was made for the avoidance of corporal punishment during his engagement. The fact remains that the measure of success attained justified the course adopted; and because of pleasing reference by his sons from whom the details were gathered:- an incident occurring however deserves mention, - one dare devil fellow made trouble and had to be dealt with. Mr A. considered that ultimate riddance with or without “Cat”, touched too closely upon defeat, he countered the difficulty by measures perhaps not strictly found

6 within the plan of management. Quietly securing privacy, Mr A. bade him consider equal terms existing a while, and they would proceed to an adjustment. The unlucky lot was reported unable to complain of “ blue mouldiness for want of a beating” for sometime after, and became a good man upon the [farm]. Mr A was powerfully built, of a good presence; and was reticent on such matters. On request he confirmed them in a general way as substantially correct. The respect entertained for him in the district, amongst its old denizens, was continuously in evidence. The terrible abuse of the lash has been dwelt on almost ad nauseum:- the example of this worthy Scotsman is a protest in it’s condemnation, and of the system permitting it. Denounced after 30 years of his legal experience in New South Wales, its squalid story finds unequivocal condemnation in the words of Judge Therry :- “The lash,” he says, “has been instrumental as crime itself in multiplying victims for the scaffold.” Another, though seemingly whimsical, punishment was credibly said to have been resorted to

on occasion by an early land holder of the district. It gave optional alternative to the prescription usually enforced upon complaint preferred before a bench of magistrates. The patient elected to sit motionless and wholly uncovered upon a fence exposed to the rays of a burning sun. Tradition gave, that the alternative had been no way popular; whether on account of present effects, or that such treatment of the hide made a legitimate prescription more telling when the time came about, is unknown. The originator was certainly one amongst the old identities afore said wanting notice. “Old” Mr Michael H……………will first allow remedy for the omission to notice the Inns of Raymond Terrace: They numbered three, having a fourth in1857 The “Junction” Inn, the principal one, with its then young and genial host, Mr Thomas Holdstock, were well known to “Old Michael”, who “never minded the miss of an hour at the “Junction,” when from his own home a few miles distant lying off the Stroud road. Holdstock stood high in the old gentleman’s regard, and took an opportunity of cantering over and inducting three visitors, acquainted all round, to pay respect at his residence. He was

8 accounted among the party – A wealthy old bachelor – A Scotsman, renegade from the half divine national beverage – living mostly alone in an isolated spot – with a welcome for such callers as fate ordained him. Holdstock knew the veteran’s hospitable ways and his peculiarities thoroughly, and furnished simple hints of conduct that would win the party golden opinion, and himself kudos for introducing them. Everything must be accepted bona-fide and as matter of course in whatever shape it appeared. If your tumbler, napkin, or what not were marked with your name, or the parson’s or “Junction Inn,” sit at ease, but be on guard against unexpected surprise, such might occur. To honor, in the first instance, the coming welcome as tendered, and in it, full spirit. “Never mix your liquor lads, but always take it Neat” – was the motto at this bachelor’s hall – and its observance appreciated. “When “Old Michael” turns his back,” said our captain, “put some of it though the slabs but No Water”! We found there a guest from the previous evening, a more queer identity than “Michael” by far. Kenneth S……………, son of a one time Acting

Governor of New South Wales, never developed brilliant parts to adorn his origin, nor even sufficient to enable living up to it; but was withal a capable man in the disposal of Rum. Standing 6ft 6in high, with narrow and droopy shoulders, the figure gaining width to the hips – he was the living impersonation of Smollett’s “Lismaliago” – but Kenneth was wanting in graces possessed by the elderly lover, or “Aunt Tabitha” had not been Won by him and become “United in the face of Men and Angles”. His less mature years were disparaged by the unkempt, neglected appearance of the man. He was under the further disadvantage of suffering recovery from effects due to his previous evening’s entertainment, except, as presently ascertained, that in some results ensuing upon as ‘rough and tumble’ row with his host recovery was yet distant. Kenneth had come out of action badly, his friend grabbing a mouthful of him somewhere below the belt, and holding fast during their struggle on the floor; till the enemy caved in and Victory was attained. - Kenneth was permitted his private reflections pending the attentions bestowed at arrival, and the inspection of a handsome chest, the

pride of the establishment, opened amid anecdote and displaying a hanging tray with apertures for case bottles of Rum; a second tier being arranged beneath. The tumblers were charged when Kenneth was noticed looking askance at the proceedings. Holdstock Esq. “Mr [H]……..Kenneth has not joined us. Are you not well Kenneth”? Q.M. answers for him - “Kenneth misbehaved himself last night, and will not get one drop this day! Kenneth Got Drunk last night and abused me!! If I hadn’t Been One Too many for him!!! He doesn’t require Notice More than A Wild beast”!! Kenneth Esq, - “Did I? Its You are the Wild Beast! You Savage!! And when I had you on the Floor, You Bit me, You Wretch. You Tried to Bite of My _____!!! (Trousers call it) (One blandly) “Kenneth! Its No Use your going on a fresh. Not a bit of use. Not a drop do you get this day – Not if you’re gasping for it! That you can make you mind up to! A Nice finish You’ve Made for the Week Haven’t You!! To Bring In The Sabbath

with Such Doings!!! – I’m ashamed to see you about the place! And I’m sure these gentlemen are too! I’m Quite Ashamed of you For one!!! The good old man expanding his chest, threw back his head; and with eyes beaming heavenward raised his Sabbath chant

The Lord’s my Shepherd, I’ll not want, He makes me down to lie By pastures green, he leadeth me The pleasant waters by.

There was tact in the defense: his natty, precise get up in broadcloth became the composed and serious countenance; when with a short pause the psalm changed; - “Kenneth! ye Bitch! I’ll rin ye down to the Creek For A Glass of Rum”!

A little water was manoeuvered and some fluid slyly disposed of, Kenneth coming off fairly well after all. Mr H accompanied the party to his boundary with all the observances of a courteous gentleman; perhaps crediting them with heads hard as his own must necessarily have

12 been. Kenneth fortunately was only temporarily banned. Mr H. has long been garnered with the great majority. Report gave that his estate was bequeathed to a relative conditionally on his remaining unmarried; a futile clause, probably, if existant. Kenneth died apparently alone in the bush near Port Stephens. When discovered, he appeared to have lain as though to find shelter beside a log. His singular height and other peculiarities gave full identification, the features having quite perished. This story was told years ago, in a lively little circle, and a promise extorted of committal to paper; with other memoranda herein it belongs to a type now passed away. The written word remains, but only deserves its permanency when fairly well in accord with actual life and matter of fact.

The Australian Agricultural Company has recently found a historian of its 50 years of existence between 1824-1875, when the author, Mr Gregson, officiated as General Superintendent 1876-1905. The company is merely glanced at in these sheets principally from having 13 employed the labor of a number of servants assigned from the government. Among them was one long remembered by his survivors in the district. Mr Holdstock, in 1857, having business occasions at Stroud, becoming detained from misarrangement and finding several hours unoccupied, sought out an “ Old Hand “ – a relic of the past – who had been a fellow-assignment with the person above referred to, ‘Frank the Poet’ known in his ‘Company’ name as Goddard; but, presumably later, as Frank Macnamara. Holdstock induced this ancient, who was wholly illiterate but possessed of good memory, to select a master-piece from his repertory of the ‘Poet’s’ productions for recitation. The ‘Tour to Hell’ became thus transcribed, and its loan conferred upon the return from Stroud. Some items of light revision, ‘Oscar for Uskett, etc.,etc., were necessary, of course, in such circumstances, and the following copy is direct in descent from that so obtained and made in my own hand. Macnamara is said to have been a lame man, dying in Sydney, about 1853. T.W. 14

Tour to Hell – by Frank the Poet

You prisoners all of New South Wales Who frequent watch–houses and gaols, A story true to you I’ll tell, “tis of a poet’s Tour to Hell.

On the highway, before he died This hero’s valour oft was tried; At length to death he fell a prey, To him it was a happy day. Downward he bent his course, we’re told; Like one destined for Satan’s fold; And no refreshment would he take Till he approached the Stygian lake; At length he then began to fix Contiguous to the river Styx; And, thinking no one would molest him, He stood; when Charon thus addrest him; “Stranger! Art thou friend or foe? What’s thy name? Pray let me know” ! “Kind Sir! I come from Sydney gaol - My name I wish not to conceal 15

And, as you do desire to know it On earth I was called “Frank the Poet”! “Are you that person?” Charon cried, “I’ll carry you to yonder side; *Fee of six pence is my charge For a passage in my barge, But noble Guest! I’d have you know it, I never mean to charge a Poet”!

Frank, seeing no other succour nigh, With the invitation did comply And, leaving Charon at the ferry, Went direct to Purgatory; And knocking boldly at the gate Of Limbo- or the middle state- Pope Pius VII soon appeared In Beads, Gown, Cruicifix and Beard; And, gazing on the Poet awhile, Address’d him in the following style:- “Stranger! Art thou friend or foe? Thy business too? Pray let me know”! Said Frank “For Heaven I am not fitted, So here I hope to be admitted”? Cried Pius,- “Vain are all your hopes, This place was made for Priest and Popes; 16

* Five or six pence originally 16A

“This is a world of our own invention, So Frank! I’ve not the least intention To admit you here:- a foolish elf- Who scarce knows how to bless himself!” Frank answered- “ Were you all insane When you composed this world of pain? For nought can I discern but fire, And share of that I don’t desire! And midst it weeping, wailing, gnashing, With torments of the newest fashion: More justly they the fools and elves, Who made a rod to beat themselves; - And may you and your honest neighbours Enjoy the fruit of all your labours!”

Bidding the Pope a long farewell, Frank hurried off to the gulph of Hell; And having found that gloomy gate, He knocked aloud to know his fate; He louder knocked, and louders still, Till Satan came- “Pray, What’s your will”? “Alas”! cried Frank,- “I’ve come to dwell With you, and share your fate in Hell!” Cried Satan – “ That can’t be - I’m sure! For I detest, and hate the poor,- 17

And none shall in my kingdom stand Except the wealthy and the grand! So Frank! - I think you’ve gone astray, For Convicts Never Come This Way! But soar to Heaven in droves and legions: (A place so called in the upper regions) And Frank I think with an empty purse You might go further and fare much worse”!

“Well,” cried the Poet,- “Since it’s so One thing of you I’d wish to know:- As I at present in no hurry – Have you one here call’d [x] Captain Murray”? “Yes, Murray’s here within this place Perhaps you’d like to see his face”? “May God forbid that I should view him! Aboard the [x] Phoenix Hulk, I knew him:- But who is that in yonder blaze On fire and brimstone seems to graze”? “He? Captain [+] Logan of Moreton Bay;- He was overseer at [‡] Grose’s Farm And did you convicts no little harm. Cook who discovered New South Wales And he who first invented gaols, 18

x Capt. Murray – one time master of Phoenix hulk. In 1832, Superintendent of Carter’s barracks, and subsequently removed to Bathurst. Father of the late Sir Terrance Aubrey Murray. The prison ship, Phoenix, has frequent notice in government gazettes, as March 25 1829,etc.- Burford (Panorama of Sydney shows her moored in the harbour. The late Mr Hunt, (of G.P.O. Sydney from 1832) related, in 1891, his visit to the Hulk in 1833 or 34, to meet one of the officers; she lay, in the present Darling Harbour, near to the site of (the present) gas works. Rae, “Sydney Illustrated” – states both she and a powder Hulk lay, 1848, in Lavender’s then (Moxon’s) Bay.

+ Capt. Logan, gazetted Commandant, Moreton Bay district, Mar. 1826, killed by the blacks there 1830.

‡ Grose’s Farm - the park and lands about Sydney University, said to have reverted to the Crown from failure of heirs to grantee or owner. 18A

Are both tied to a fiery stake That stands in yonder boiling lake; Hark! Hear you not that dreadful yelling It comes from [x] Dr Wardell’s dwelling: And yonder see those fiery chairs, They’re fitted up for Beaks and Mayors, And men of Judicial Orders, Barristers, Lawyers and Recorders”!

Then Frank beheld legions of Traitors, Hangman, Gaolers and [xx] Flagellators, [+] Commandants, Constables and Spies, Informers, and Overseers, likewise In flames of brimstone they were toiling, And lakes of sulphur round them boiling: Hell resounded with them yelling, Alas! How dismal was their dwelling! [‡] Then Major Morisset he espied With [:-] Captain Clunie by his side; In a fiery belt they were lashed together Tight as sole to upper leather; Their situation was horrid, Both were tyrants to the Nor’ard:- Next he beheld Old Sergeant Flood, In Vulcan’s hottest forge he stood;

x Dr Wardell, murdered 1834, upon his own estate, at Petersham

xx Extract – “The Governor has been pleased to approve the following alterations in the Police.” …………..At Penrith, James Normand, ship Mangles, to be Constable and Scourger, vice Smith, dismissed for drunkenness and general bad conduct .” Govt.-Notice 4 April 1826

+ Commandant officer in charge of a location chiefly applies to [?]

‡ Morisset: At her residence N. Shore March 7 1892 Emily widow of late Col. Morisset 48th …Reg t, aged 89

:- Capt. Clunie: ‘Govt. order, Col Secretary’s office Nov 17 1830 – publishes copy of letter from Capt. Clunie 17th.. Regt.. relating “the melancholy fate of Capt. Logan 57 Regt. Late Commandant at Moreton Bay, who was murdered by the Natives, when completing a Survey, which he had commenced last year,” etc., etc.- Clunie afterwards appointed Commandant of same

19A

He gazed on Frank, his eyes with ire Appeared like burning coals of fire. He by a bloody collapsed band Was to a lofty lamp post chained; With fiery garments all arrayed. Like a wild Arabian Ass he brayed: Loudly he implored from Frank assistance To end for him this sad existence; - “Cheer up”, said Frank, - “Don’t be dismayed, Remember No. 3 Stockade! In course of time you may do well If you behave yourself in hell! Your heart on earth was fraught with Malice You oft drove convicts to the gallows:- A greater rogue in shoes ne’er trod; You now atone for all the blood Of convicts shed by Sergeant Flood”! He next beheld that notorious trapman And police runner, Israel Chapman; Steeped was he standing to his head; In a river of boiling molten lead. “Alas”! - he cried,- “Behold me Stranger! I’ve captured many a bold bushranger, For which I now am suffering here.” But lo! now yonder snakes appear,

20 Chapman:- “Govt. Gazette Notice 4 December 1827 “The right Honorable the Secretary of State for the Colonies, has signified to His Excellency the Governor, in his Despatch, No. 30, dated 14 July 1827. His Majesty’s most gracious approbation and Allowance of the Absolute Pardon, dated the 10th of February 1827, granted to Israel Chapman, per ship Glory, for the services rendered by him in the Police” / By His Excellencys Command /Alexr McLeay:-

“Truth”, issue of 1st Sept. 1901 on ‘Devonshire St Cemetery’, then being in process of clearing out; says – ‘on the crest of the hill is a stone with an inscription with many flourishes, which in Australia reads quaintly, which might be better understood near Bow Street Police Office- “Sacred to the memory of Mrs Catherine Chapman / Wife of Mr Israel Chapman / Late Police Runner / Who died 26th January 1829 / Aged 29 years”-

‘Life is short, the fairest flower Often withers in an hour; To-day we flourish in our bloom To-morrow brings us to the tomb.’

20A

Then Frank beheld slow-worms, And snakes of varied shapes and forms, All entering at the mouth and ears To gnaw his entrails for endless years. He next beheld the [x] Company Commissioner, Kneeling like the humblest petitioner. “Satan!” he cried, “My life is ended, For many years I superintended The Agricultural Company’s affairs, And punctually paid up all arrears:- But if you doubt the ‘Hopping Colonel’, At Carrington you’ll find my journal Ready penned in black and white:- I’ll prove that my accounts are right.”

The Poet turned to go away, But Lucifer begged he’d stay: “Frank the Poet”,- “Stay! Don’t go man, Till you see your old friend, [xx] Dr Bowman. See how he trembles, writhes and gnashes; He gave you many a hundred lashes! And for that same he does bewail, While [+]Oscar with an iron flail Thrashes him well – you may depend – And will, till time shall have an end!”

Lieut. Colonel Dumaresq, a Waterloo veteran, became Commissioner for the Australia Agricultural Company on the retirement of Sir Edward Parry in March 1834. – During his term of office, he unfortunately became lame, hence the allusion opposite. Engaged for five years, negociations were opened for a renewal of his position for a similar period; when he passed away in an attack of a apoplexy in March,1838. xx Dr. Bowman survived in N.S.W., 1798. He was Inspector General of Hospitals. Satan’s reference to the Doctor’s liberality towards the ‘Poet’ reminds one of a recorded speech by Judge Jeffries, addressing another unfortunate.- “A Poet ? – I Warrant I’ll Make Poetry With You”!!

+ “May Oscar with a Fiery flail”- Doneraile Litany.

21A

Just as he spoke a Coach and Four Drove up in post-haste to the door; And about Six Feet of Mortal Sin Without leave or license tumbled in. At It’s – arrival, three cheers were given, That reached above the highest Heaven; And all the inhabitants of Hell With one accord Rang the Great Bell That never was known to sound or ring, Since Judas sold our heavenly King. Drums were beating, flags were hoisting, Never before was such rejoicing – Dancing – singing – joy and mirth, In heaven above or on the earth. Straightway to Lucifer Frank went To know what these rejoicings meant? “Of sense”, cried Satan, “I’m deprived! Since [x] Governor Darling has arrived:- Fire and brimstone I’ve ordained him, Vulcan has already chained him. I’m going to fix another Abode For [xx] Colonel Wilson’s on the road; Don’t go Frank, till you see the novice, I mean the Colonel from the Police Office.- “Sir!” – replied Frank, - “I’m satisfied” To learn that he is to be tried-

22 x The administration of Governor Darling, 1825-1831 was not of a popular character with either Free or Bond.- The “Poet” is scant of respect to the Windsor uniform, in making a somewhat theatrical entry, (in a new sphere), for His Excellency; and, in leaving for ‘another place’ without paying his respects:- which he may have thought due to the circumstances; he makes no word condemnatory of action beyond clumsiness, and somehow doesn’t pitch into the Governor as into others on the premises; even into the poor wight “on the road” – for arrival. xx Colonel Wilson, according to Mr Hunt (already quoted) immediately preceded Capt. Rossi, at the Sydney Police office.

22A

And burned in this lake of fire;- With your leave, Sir;- I’ll now retire”. And, after toiling many days O’er fiery hills and boiling seas; At length he found that happy place Where all the woes of mortals cease: And knocking loudly at the wicket Says Peter,-“Where is your certificate! Or if you have not one to show – Pray – Who in heaven do you know”? “Why Sir! – I know Jack Donohue – And Johnny Prog – and Jenkins, too – And many others whom scourgers bled Were lastly by Jack Ketch strung dead.”

“Peter”! the Son said; “Allow Frank in For he is truly purged from sin: Although in Convict costume drest Here shall be a welcome guest. Enoch! Go with him to Job – And put on him a silken robe. ‘Saint Paul! Go to the flock straightway, And kill a calf or two - today: And tell Abraham and Abel In all haste to prepare the table – 23

Jack Donohue, bushranger, shot dead.

Jenkins – hanged for the murder of Dr Wardell in 1834

23A

For we will make a grand repast, Since Poet Frank is come at last!”

Soon came Moses, and Elias, John the Baptist, and Matthias, With many saints from foreign lands; And with the Poet all shook hands. Through Heaven’s concave the curfew rang, And hymns of praise they loudly sang; And, while they glorified their theme, I woke – and found it All,- A Dream.

Occasional reference to “Frank the Poet” is met with indication of other specimens being extant, but giving no clue of access to them. An article touching upon the “singing of old bush ballads” – and their composition; of which only an undated fragment was consulted, incidentally mentions the “Poet”. A reference was made to the Editor of the “Bulletin”, Sydney, about 1902; the cutting being from that paper, long ago; but it proved unavailing as the contribution was quite forgotten. Quotation runs – “ At the Station Hut…………………………

“the nasal quaver of the ‘Old Hand’ might be heard as he vaunted the glories of some old time Bushranger:- Who was hunted up and down, my boys Like an old man kangaroo; But I’ll fight ’em ten to one, says he, Says Bold Jack Donohue.” “On perhaps, as he gave a doggerel reminisense of the ill-famed island prison denounced in “Frank the Poet’s” scathing valediction, as – “ Squatter’s home, and prisoners’ hell, Land of Sodom, fare thee well.” “Where They yoked up like horses, All in Van Diemens Land.”

And this is all at present available; but it does seem odd – when considering the lapse of time since Mr Holdstock’s capture made full 50 years back. Macnamara is described as a lame man, dying in Sydney about 1853; and is supposed to have been transported for forgery,

A worthy collector of Australiana kindly handed me a copy – “ Out of the notes of one Jeremiah Shey, or Shea, who was transported to Australia in 1818 in the ship “Marley.” For stealing a pair of Boots.”- Extracts- …………..”I was called out at one moments warning My [?] slavery for to renew: With incessant fear of my oppressors, I dare not say, or to the triangles, My flesh to mangle that was my wages in Moreton Bay I’ve heard talk of prisoners, At Port Macquarie and Emu Plains, And at Newcastle likewise Tongabbie, In all those places they work in chains: But in all the record places of condemnation There is no equal to Moreton Bay”

……………..” Like the bonded Hebrews with the Egyptians, I was sore oppressed under Logan’s yoke That God did see my sore afflictions And to this tyrant gave a fatal stroke”……………………..

……………..”My back with flogging was lacerated My flesh was sometimes painted with crimson gore And for three long years I was beastly treated; And heavy irons each day I wore………………….

………………”The day will come that you will be extricated; And all those proud tyrants you will have behind” (Label by Collector – “Frank the Poet” – In which I cannot Concur. T.W. 26

Botany Bay Reprint: English Magazine; December, 1786

“Away with these whimsical bubbles of air With only excite a momentary stare; Attention to plans of utility pay, Weigh anchor, and steer for Botany Bay

Let no one think much of trifling expense, Who knows what may happen a hundred years hence The loss of America what can repay? New Colonies seek for at Botany Bay.

O’er Neptune’s domain, how extensive the scope, Of quickly returning, how defiant the hope, The Capes must be doubled, and then bear away Three thousand good leagues to reach Botany Bay.

Of those precious souls who for nobody care, It seems a large cargo the kingdom can spare, To ship off a gross or two, make no delay, They cannot too soon go to Botany Bay.

They go of an island to take special charge, Much warmer than Britain and ten times as large. No Custom-House duty, no freightage to pay, And tax-free they live when at Botany Bay.

This garden of Eden, this new Promised land, The time to set sail for will soon be at hand; Ye worst of land lubbers, make ready for sea, There’s room for you all about Botany Bay

As scores of each sex to this land must proceed; In twenty years time – only think of the breed; Major Semple, should fortune much kindness display May live to be King over Botany Bay

For a general good, make a general sweep, The beauty of life in good order to keep, With night-prowling hateful disturbers away, And send the whole tribe unto Botany Bay.

Ye Chiefs who go out on this naval exploit, The work to accomplish, and set matters right, To Ireland be kind, call at Cork on your way, And take some White Boys unto Botany Bay.

Commercial arrangements give prospects of joy, Fair and firm may be kept ev’ry national tie, And, mutual confidence, those who betray Be sent to the bottom of Botany Bay. R.B. 28

Notes complied from Thomas Wright’s St Patrick’s Purgatory; an

Essay on the Legends Of Purgatory, Hell and Paradise, current during The Middle Ages.

T. Wright, the antiquarian, at the close of his work – “St. Patrick’s Purgatory” – (Loud:1844) makes a brief review concerning legendary lore touching subjects of similar nature. The age of “Visions” he considers ended with the 15th century; but that their influence was felt long afterward, and somewhat perpetuated by the invention of printing. He instances an English translation of the “Pilgrimage of the Sowle” of William de Guilleville, 1483; from the Caxton press – In France, near same date, a long poem entitled ‘The Great Devilry; which treats how Satan declared to his master, Lucifer, of the evils which the poor worldly men do, according to their estates, vocations, trades, and merchandises, and how they draw them to damnation by an infinity of wiles’. While a general satire on the vices of the time affording also a vivid picture of its manners, the grotesque conversation between them conveys material for the History of the old popular notions concerning demons - as the work of Francis [Eyimenes] did for the angels. Another popular work, at the latter part of same century, ‘Kalendierdes Bergers’, or ‘Kalendar of Sheperdes’ in the English Translation, a kind of perpetual almanac, contains, besides the

30 calender, a number of articles in prose and verse. Among them is the punishment of the seven deadly sins after death; Said to have been exhibited to Lazarus between his death and resurrection. Each of the seven is set forth in grim enough detail. This vision, concerning Lazarus, is suggested to have been an invention of the period.

Wright quotes the Scottish Poet Dunbar, who left us a poetical description of a dance of the seven ‘deidly synnis’ amid the infernal fires; as supposed to have been seen in a dream. The seven “synnis” had little music. “Na menstrallis play it to them but dowt” (without), nor does any passage occur to suggest, as Chambers relates, that Dunbar was as great in comic – as in the solemn strain;- mentioning one piece of peculiar humour descriptive of an imaginary tournament between a tailor and a shoemaker, in the same region where he places the dance of the deadly sins. ‘It is in style of the broadest farce, and full of very offensive language, yet as droll as anything in Searron or Rabelais’. Another and partly – contemporary Scottish poet, Sir David Lindsay, has also left us a dream. He represents himself as

[taken by a lady, ‘Dame Rememberance’, by name,- “Down throw the eirth in middis of the center, Or ever I wist, into the lowest hell”…………………… “Yowling and yowling we hard, with monie yell, in flamme of fyre richt furious and fell”………… Here they see popes and prelates, as well as secular princes, with numbers of the clergy, which gives occasion for bitter invective against the corruptions and abuses in the Church. A little above the pit of hell; after witnessing the punishments, the poet was carried to another ‘country’. That place is that, quod I, of blis sa bair? Scho answerit and said, ‘Purgatorie, quhilk purgis sanlis or thay cum to glorie” – No church dignitaries are mentioned; and they proceed to a third place , still within the earth; Where “mony babbis war makand drery mone”- to remain for ever in sorrow, because they had not been baptized. The limbus of the patriarchs and ancients was a ‘Vault’ above this. Passing through the earth, the water, the air, and thro’ the nine spheres to Heaven; they subsequently view paradise, etc. Ford the dramatist also is quoted writing at the end of the 16th century. In France, Rabelais and his followers turned

the existing popular notions concerning the infernal regions into ridicule and burlesque. ‘Epistemon’, when his head was cut off, and later cured by Panurge; makes relation – “of the news he brought of the devils and the damned.” Everything in the hell of Epistemon was turned upside down:- Kings and heroes of this world were employed in ordinary or in low occupations. Alexander the Great gained his living by mending old breeches; Xerxes sold mustard; Cyrus was a cowherd; Eneas was a miller; Darius a cleaner of water closets; and Priam sold old clothes. The Philosophers of this world became great lords, and lived magnificently.- But, in spite of the influence of this class of writers, the old superstitions held their ground among the uneducated; and in England , so late as the 17th century, is a black letter broadside entitled – ‘The Dead Man’s Song, whose dwelling is neere unto Bassing’s Hall, in London’; of which several copies are extant and which is reprinted in Ritson’s ‘Ancient Songs.’- The hero of the ballad falls into a trance and appears dead during the Vision. 33

Insensible to the world; he found himself in a green field covered with flowers, where a “ faire young man” bade him sit beside him on “a goodly pleasant banke”. During the vision they did not quit this spot:- “ With branches then of lillies white Mine eyes there wiped he; When this was done he bad me look What I farre off could see.” On looking awhile he beholds a wondrous city,- “Of diamonds, pearles, and precious stones, It seem’d the walls were made; The houses all with beaten gold Were til’d and overlaid.”- In the city there was “musiek, mirth, and melody”; and he was told that it was heaven. – Made to turn his head and look in the opposite direction, he saw the punishments of the wicked, which resemble those of the older legends, and are amply enough specified, causing terror to his ‘soul’; the young man leaving,” and bad me not farewell” - “Wherefore unto my body straight My spirit return’d againe, And lively blood did afterwards Stretch forth in every veine.”

In his appendix, Wright gives an ‘Icelandic Vision’ belonging to 11th century, which presents an early mixture of the Christian and pagan doctrines of the west. The poem as rendered is of considerable length and presents mostly the terrors of the subject - ….And inserts an ‘Anglo-Saxon description of Paradise’, dating at latest with the earlier part of that century. It is of considerable length, worthy the subject concluding – “Not broken is The wood in aspect: there a holy fragrance rests o’er the pleasant land. That shall not be changed forever throughout ages, until shall end his wise work of yore he who created it at the beginning.” A ‘German ballad on Paradise’ of uncertain date so far, is given as an excellent example how the old popular notions were constantly running into burlesque. “After the cross and sufferings, the pleasures of heaven will come to console us. Therefore let us sing of heavenly things, of which each of us

will taste after he has divested himself of the old Adam. We lead a life of angels, and we are at the same time very gay; we dance and we leap, we gambol and we sing. St. Peter looks at us in heaven and plays the fiddle to us. John lets loose a little sheep, Herod the butcher watches it. Roasted pigeons, believe me, fly into the open mouth. He who pays no attention to them is but an idler. St. Luke kills his ox without reflection and without respect. The wine does not cost a farthing in heaven’s cellar; the angels make loaves and biscuits at ever command. Vegetables of every kind grow in the garden of heaven; peas and carrots grow spontaneously; the asparagus is large as one’s leg, and the artichokes are of the size of people’s heads. Good apples, good pears, good, good grapes, the garden of heaven lets you gather them all. Wilt thou have kids, wilt thou have hares? They come running into the kitchen. Come, sharpen thy knife. If it be fast day, the fishes come swimming. St Peter runs with his nets and his bait, and he begins fishing to – please your palate -

“Wilt thou have carp, trout, or pike? Good cod or fresh sprats? Wilt thou have them cooked on the gridiron on which St. Lawrence suffered martyrdom? St. Martha is the cook, and St. Urban the cupbearer. No music on earth can be compared with ours; the eleven thousand virgins dance, and St. Ursula looks on and laughs. The festivity lasts till late in the night. Cecilia causes a little song without equal to be sung; angelic voices awake the senses, and when we think that all is finished, it begins again.”

There is convincing proof that before the time of the Norman Conquest legends concerning Purgatory, Hell, and Paradise were common as well in England as in the neighbouring parts, of Europe – in the fact that in the beginning of the eleventh century, they had already became an object of ridicule. In an M.S. volume, preserved in the public library of Cambridge University, which bears evidence of having been written by an English monk in Germany about the middle of that century. 37 among several rhyming songs (in Latin) there is one which tells the story of a ‘prophet’ who had lately visited the infernal regions, and afterwards been to heaven; the relation of whose adventure appears in the Appendix entitled,

‘An Early Burlesque’

“Heriger, of the city of Mentz archbishop, saw a certain prophet, who said that he had been rapt to hell.- When he had related many things of it , he added that all hell was surrounded on every side with thick woods. Heriger to him smiling answered ‘I will my swineherd ‘thither to pasture ‘send with ‘my lean pigs!’.

“Says the false man ‘I was carried thence ‘ to the temple of heaven, ‘and saw Christ ‘sitting in joy ‘and eating’.

‘John the Baptist ‘was the butler ‘and offered ‘cups of excellent wine ‘to all the saints ‘who were invited’.

Heriger said, ‘Christ acted ‘prudently, in the making ‘John his Butler, ‘ since he never ‘drank wine

‘You prove yourself a liar, ‘when you say that Peter ‘is there the master ‘of the cooks, ‘because he is the porter ‘of high heaven’. x (A stanza, evidently is lost here, stating St. Peter was master of the cooks).

“‘In what honour ‘did God of heaven ‘have thee there? ‘where didst thou sit? ‘I desire you tell me ‘what you eat! The man answered, ‘In one corner ‘part of a liver ‘I stole from the cooks: ‘this I eat ‘and then retired! Heriger ordered him to be bound with thongs to the stake, and to be beaten with rods, with hard speech charging him: ‘If thee Christ ‘to his meal ‘invite, with him ‘to take food ‘take care not to commit ‘theft again!” Finis. 40