Showing posts with label History Parramatta 1807. Show all posts
Showing posts with label History Parramatta 1807. Show all posts

October 07, 2007

7 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

The Martial Law declaration in Parramatta, January 26 1808.

The story ends today, dear readers, as the author moves on to other historical tales. Elizabeth plays a crucial role in the next few months leading to the great rebellion in Sydney and Parramatta against the rule of William Bligh, and goes on to play a very significant role in the development of the merino wool industry in Australia. Thanks to the readers of this story and my best wishes for the future. The Author.

October 06, 2007

6 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

Colonial Surgeon John Harris

I could have counted the ships the ships that called here between 1801 and 1805 on my two hands and it is still an occasion when a ship from Home arrives. Some of Mrs. Kingdon's letters have fallen apart in my hands from being read, and when Mr. Macarthur was away, I almost read Blackstone's Commentaries on English law! Given how infrequent good conversation can be had, it's surprising that more of us don't go entirely mad. Thank God for Mr. Harris, the wonderful scoundrel that he is.

Sometimes I hunger to read a good book that I've not read before; Mrs. Lucas brought a fine collection with her, including many in French and German. My favourite was always The Sorrows of Young Werther, and now I have the book in English and in German, and Mrs. Lucas is very patient with my German. I still long for a cheap and dreadful London tale though, and join the clamour to the Captains when a ship comes in, begging and bribing for any spare copies of the London magazines. And not only for the fashion, like some of my friends!

A woman's mind should be challenged or it stultifies in the everyday concerns: to avoid that, as much as for any reason, I love the sheep and the stud book. That said, however, a woman may extend herself too far as I fear I may have done, keeping this house and gardens, managing staff, looking after my unwell daughter, organising entertainments and the stud, and looking after Mr. Macarthur's interests also. That is quite a burden, and writing in this diary only helps me to be clear about those responsibilities when what I need is a sympathetic friend. I had hoped Mrs. Putland could play that role, as Mrs. King had done to an extent, but the gap between what is right for this place and a Governor's orders make it hard for we wives and daughters to avoid the acrimony. Mrs. Putland has written me with her fulsome thanks for the party and hopes she may return the favour, and in the meantime can Elizabeth junior stay with her? If Elizabeth is well enough, she certainly can.

October 05, 2007

5 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

Mr. Harris' house.

Since Mrs. Putland's unfortunate experience on Sunday last, I fear the atmosphere of the Colony has changed. Serjeant Whittle reported that Mr. Bligh has compared the Corps unfavourably with the convicts and has threatened to use convicts as his Honour Guard - won't the Corps hate that! Our troubles are quiescent but beneath the surface I can feel them bubbling away. My friends in various places have reported that the Governor's dispatches include a strongly-worded request for the Corps to be removed; I know we have heard this before, even under Mr. King, but this may be different. I do feel if the Home Government had chosen anyone other than a Naval man, we may have avoided trouble - who knows?
The garden is blooming - several of the Indian Rhododendrons are in flower, with a mass of deep red blossoms - what a sight! The fruit trees have their small fruit - except the loquats which are covered in the yellow plums - proving this climate to be, as Mr. Harris claims, the most beneficial in the entire world.

October 04, 2007

4 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

The Store at Parramatta

Government and trade - once the two would never have mixed, but Mr. Campbell is a clever trader and has joined forces with Mr. Palmer in more ways than one. The Governor appears to believe that involving Government in retail selling will benefit ordinary people and in places far away, such as the Green Hills, it might but to the detriment of others. When the Colony was hardly able to feed itself, it was not Government that stood in and maintained a ready supply of necessaries; without the actions of the officers of the Corps to establish a market with ready money and supply that market with variety, there would be less prosperity than there is today.

However, one's diary should not be a place where one complains, but rejoices that life is good: Mr. Macarthur and I are the luckiest of people in that our concern for each other is undiminished, that our aspirations have largely been met and we respect each other - after nearly 20 years, what more would we want?

The heat and wind diminished greatly today, and I expect Elizabeth will be better tomorrow. John is back from our outlying farms and all is well there; I have cut asparagus from the garden today, along with great leeks - they will go well with a duck I bought from Banagaree, one of the young natives who live near here. She came this morning with the duck

October 03, 2007

3 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

Many of the native men have their front tooth removed, for reasons unknown.

The weather, business, the actions of government are the common topics of polite conversation, but the health of my family remains most important to me, especially with Elizabeth junior so poorly. We woke today to a blustery hot wind and soemthing like an oven has developed as the day has gone on: plants in the garden wilt, and Elizabeth wilts also. Her chest fills with mucus and her breathing becomes laboured, and John believes she must excersise at such times but I can see that is beyond her. Within me a new life stirs - boy or girl, sick or healthy? My luck in birthing has not been great, with Edward born so poorly, but I'll keep trying to make them better - and my fine bonny son Edward is a testament that the poorly child can become the strongest man. I have seen Edward easily carry one of the Dorset rams and he rides as well as John - if only Elizabeth improves!
Every day we see the natives, at our door or when moving around the farm: the men invariably have their front tooth missing and Mr. Macarthur has been to the ceremony when this takes place - nine days of

October 02, 2007

2 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur


The amazing ceremonies of the Natives - this is the most serious occasion when young men become men, called the Erah-ba-diang.

Without trade and business this Colony will wither and die: that has always been so. When we first arrived, the Colony was near starving, and the ration which had been universally shared was so poor that no work could be done. It was John that brought the cartel into being that chartered the Dolphin in '92 to bring the supplies that saved the Colony from ruin and such trade has been our saviour again and again. And yet Authority has no idea that such measures are not for the enrichment of the participants, who after all bear all the risk, but the advancement of this place and the saviour of its inhabitants. "No thought for the future" could be Government's motto, even after last year's disastrous floods, when no thought for the price of grain or the feeding of the flocks was given, so that now we face the highest prices in our history, which could easily have been avoided by a ship to Africa or India.
Now we face a blockage by the Company of all trade to China, even in goods the Company doesn't have to sell! We have been informed that our sandal-wood from the Feejees is not to be taken to China under any circumstances, so we shall have the sweetest fires in Christendom later this month when we expect the Parramatta to return with its load.

John's counsel to the children is just: Always do what you are afraid to do!

October 01, 2007

1 October 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

Some of us have recent fashions, some are quite out of fashion, yet the ball was a success nevertheless.

"How is business?", is the commonest greeting among a certain class of people here - the class to which we now belong. Opportunity may be responded to, or ignored, and Mr. Macarthur has very properly determined that a two-handed response brings the greatest benefit, and the greatest risks. On this we do not disagree - I support John's business ventures and wish him well in them all. We now own two good ships, one of which is sailing to Tahiti to collect the rare wood that grows there which is worth more than gold, when taken to China, and the other is returning to England, filled with oil and skins from the seal fishery, and some bales of our wool. We were so far caught by surprise with the seal fishery that John did not bring any lamps with him from England, so we still use candles in the main house and slush lights elsewhere. As well, John has shares in three more ships engaged in trade and fishing; we also have a shop in Sydney, although we might let that go soon. The Governor has permitted Mr. Palmer to expand the stores, in Sydney, at Green Hills and here in Parramatta, so they have as wide a range of goods as the people need, and they pay so little for their staff that it seems they will sell cheaper than we ever can. Mr. Palmer's sister has married Mr. Campbell, and Mr. Campbell has brought his nephew here, so a dynasty is forming. Such a shame that they cannot talk of anything but trade!
My circle is quite small - yet it was only a year or two ago, it seems, that eighteen ladies could gather for a very civilised lunch, while today there are less than a handful who can meet, and I am forced to rely on Mr. Harris for general gossip, Mr. Caley for scathing comment, and my little network of friends for all the other information I need to protect our interests! I hope Mrs. Patterson comes back soon, as it must be tiresome in van Diemen's land - still, she is with her husband and that is something. We couples must stick together.
Mr. Macarthur returned from the Seven Hills last night and today is away again to the Cowpastures: the sheep at the Seven Hills had been isolated by the rain, unwilling to cross the flooded stream to their shelters, but other than two or three lambs that appear to have been lost, all is fine. I hope to go there on Friday, to review the arrangements at that place. The bridge here that crosses the River, near where the Governor has granted Mrs. Putland her land, wasn't washed away but has lost several supports and must be repaired: in the past we have waited months for such work, but I understand that a gang is already there and the timbers are being cut as I write, so having Mrs. Putland as a neighbour has many benefits.
The Campbells and Palmers have invited Elizabeth junior and I to dinner tomorrow, and with John away, I'll accept their invitation.

September 30, 2007

30 September 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

The little village atop Brickfield's Hill.

What am I to make of this place? Have freedom and dignity left our paths forever and retired into the forests with the miserable natives? Convicts, criminals, scoundrels mingle and mix, and not only in the prisoners' barracks. Solitude, our own farm, these are the refuges that I seek.
Yesterday's rain ceased early enough for the ground to dry, but I wasn't sure about the River and we foresook the boat to take the carriage home. It's an uncomfortable way to travel, although it is a high-wheeled coveyance, because the road is terrible, only wide enough for one vehicle. Unlike the Governor, I have no out-riders, only my reputation here for fifteen years, and the sure knowledge that whether criminal or free, or native, everyone knows me and, I sincerely hope, thinks of me in a positive manner rather than otherwise.
The road from Sydney runs South down High Street before turning West and heading to Parramatta, climbing first the Brickfield's Hill, then meandering over hill and down dale past some wild scrub, until reaching the bridge over the Duck's River, and we then turn to the North to come at the Farm. Several people have reported concerns along the way, with the bushes concealing escaped convicts and several tribes of natives, althought these latter live nearer to the Sands at Arrowanally, where there is fresh water and food in plenty.
Our journey was without mishap, except that we were bogged for some time on the Brickfield Hill and waited until sufficient men had returned to the work, to assist us to the top. Home now - I was right in not trying to sail home, as the River is raging near here and we would have had a hard walk from near the Sands to the Farm.
The rain is good for the Farm, with spring growth everywhere - the peaches are a mass of flowers, as are the quince, the apples and pears. The cherry trees have finished blossoming and their fruit is setting, but the tiny bees that live here struggle to polinate those trees and we get little fruit from them. The loquats, whose blossom filled our valley with their perfume eight weeks ago, are yellow on their branches and will be the first fruits of the season - already today I have eaten a dozen or more!
The wet weather suits Elizabeth junior and keeps her chest clear. However, I am sick with worry after Sunday's diabolical fiasco - I really feel I should take to bed and stay there. I wrote a brief note for Mary Putland today and, along with a few dozen of our early loquats and some bunches of radishes, sent it to her on the afternoon packet - I do hope she is bearing up.
John and Edward arrived home yesterday and immediately set out again, to the Seven Hills were they'd heard the stream had broken the banks and washed across the sheep paddocks; we've recently moved the Dorset rams there and may God have preserved them.

September 29, 2007

29 September 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

As if the weather knows about the turmoil in the Colony, I woke today to the crashing of thunder and an enormous downpour of rain. We had intended returning to Parramatta this morning by boat, but the River will be in flood and too unsafe for that journey. The alternative of travelling in the coach is awful to contemplate, with the road full of mud and crossed by strong streams in several places, so the girls and I will stay in Pyrmont and let Mr. Macarthur, Edward and Hannibal return on their horses: we will follow later in the week. I am now torn by a desire to reassure Mrs. Putland that she must disregard the jibes of the private soldiers, but John is certain that leaving the Governor alone is the best option for all of us natives, to avoid being tarred by the same brush.
Being in town means I have so little to do, and I was looking forward to getting back to the farm. Instead, I will try to enjoy some time here, perhaps even lay out some more garden given that it is spring, if the rain eases. We only grow a small garden here, mostly fruit trees overlooking the harbour, with some green growing at the rear of the house. Water is difficult to procure in Town - there is a hole in the rock that we call our "well", and it supplies some garden water, sufficient for the fruit trees, and we have a lovely spring that John has piped to the house, but it flows slowly, only filling a tank for the household needs.
Given I have so little to do, I wonder where the time of day has gone? Already the afternoon has passed, the candles are lit and I am preparing our evening meal - I'd sent the cooks home after the ball. A native whom I'vbe not seen before brought fish and fruit bats - I took the fish, in exchange for a pannikin filled with flour. It is that fish we call Perch, but he named it "wuggara", and he said of it "balu patta", which means that it eats well, or "good eating". A tall young man - perhaps he has come from the other side of the harbour - we don't see the folk from that side over here often, as there is great animosity between those people and the natives here.

September 27, 2007

27 September 1807, Sunday, by Elizabeth Macarthur


All the Colony is in uproar today - honestly, the behaviour of some of the Corps is scandalous and both Mr. Macarthur and I blame the officers. There is one young private - Faithfull is his name - whom John has had quite a lot to do with over the years. He is rather simple and will never rise above being a private soldier, and unfortunately he is not the sort of whom one says "they are doing their best". The opposite, rather.
The Church at Sydney remains unfinished and in the abscence of Mr. Marsden it may remain so, as Mr. Fulton lacks the wherewithal to marshall help, other than on the Governor's orders, and frankly there are so few convicts still under sentence available to help, so Church is held in the Orphan's School in Bridge Street, or at the Granary, depending on the numbers expected to attend. Of course, we held our ball during the week so Mr. Macarthur, Hannibal, the girls and I have remained in Sydney and attended Church this morning at the Granary, a very commodious if unpleasant building, and it was made the more unpleasant by the actions of the Corps.
Hannibal and John joined the Governor for breakfast, while Mrs. Putland entertained Elizabeth, Mary and I on the lawns for an al-fresco, and after that we Macarthur's walked across town to Church, while the Governor and Mrs. Putland took their coach. We were already inside when they arrived, but we distinctly heard some form of rucus as the Governor and Mrs. Putland made their way into Church. What happened, I have since discovered, is that Private Faithfull, who has been mooning over Mrs. Putland from afar, became agitated when he saw her dressed in the latest London fashion, of a diaphanous dress over pantaloons. The dress is a marvel to behold, of a sky blue of fine muslin, fully fitted in the body and billowing below - Mrs. Putland told me there are eleven yards of muslin in the skirt. Certainly on first seeing this fashion one may be somewhat taken aback, but that is no affair for a soldier.
One of Faithfull's colleagues, seeing his agitation, stuck a feather in Faithfull's cap, which further agitated the man, and in a moment the entire platoon was playing the fool, guffawing at Faithfull and, consequently, at Mrs. Putland. When Mary heard their guffaws, she turned to them and something happened: something that none of us really saw, but the next moment she had collapsed to the floor, and her father was by her side, bellowing for air and quite beside himself. He had seen the tom-foolery and was extremely upset, but his first concern was for his daughter, as was mine. In a moment we had Mary taken outside, the carriage was called, and she and I, along with the girls, hurried back to Government House.
Meanwhile at the Church, assured that Mrs. Putland had suffered a fainting spell after the foolish behaviour of members of the Corps, the Governor had called their Lieutenant to explain. Some stupid tale was put forth about the feather, and Governor Bligh, enormously angry, was restrained by Mr. Macarthur from striking the adjutant. What a catastrophe!
Mrs. Putland recovered once in the carriage, but she is also tremendously upset - to think that the Governor is not free to attend Church, goes against the natural order. In a moment the triumphs of the week are overturned and we move back to the first square, with civil society an unreachable goal perhaps.

September 26, 2007

26 September 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

The rather strange Flying Opossum, who carries her young in a pouch.

Elizabeth's diary will be back shortly - the author is taking a short break, after the talk at Elizabeth Farm last week. I was told that they raised $400 from admission to my talk.

September 24, 2007

24 September 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur

Dancing at the Ball.
The ball was a total success, quite the finest occasion seen in New South Wales since - well, since anything I suppose. More, much more, later.

September 20, 2007

20 September 2007, by David Povey

Another view of Sydney, also by Eyre, 1806, showing the

Tomorrow, Friday September 21 2007, this paper will be read to a meeting of the Friends of Elizabeth Farm, at Rosehill near Parramatta. Elizabeth's diary recommences after that.

September 19, 2007

19 September 2007, by David Povey


Government House about 1807
Part 4 of the talk about Parramatta in 1807 leading up to the Revolt on Anniversary Day, 26 January 1808. To be continued.

September 18, 2007

18 September 2007, by David Povey

Declaration of Martial Law, Parramatta Janaury 26 1808

The interlude continues of - part 3 of the Friends' talk.

Manning Clarke questions whether so momentous a clash of civilizations would ever take place in this Southern Land; the personalities are not so grand, but the clash is still heard. In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Britain's navy had conquered the world, and one of their possessions was New South Wales.

Britain lost America when the unilateralism of government became too much for the American settlers to bear, and those settlers shrugged off Britain. That same unilateralism then transported to the Colony of NS Wales and achieved a similar lack of success because it was deficient as a form of government.

The clash here was between this ante-trade ("ante" meaning "before") government and the rising Mercantilist class; between prosperity and hunger. When the Colony nearly starved in 1791, it was the officers of the NS Wales Corps who chartered the first private vessels to transport food and other supplies here, initially against the wishes of Governor Phillip but eventually with his approval. Those same officers then became successful private farmers and increased the land under cultivation ten-fold. The paucity of animals in the early years was overcome when the officers imported horses, sheep, cows and poultry from Cape Town and Madras in India; once again, Government hardly moved on this issue.

During the American War of Independence, the British Army strongly resented the English Navy's role, especially the capturing of four English man-o’-war ships early in the war by the American Navy. Although not especially "modern", the British Army had at least some form of collegiate decision-making, unlike the Navy. The power of individual captains on their ships was considerable, and when flying their broad pennant as Commodores, could be insufferable. That was certainly the case with Bligh.

The Governor of NS Wales had been an Admiralty appointment until Governor Bligh, paying less than one thousand pounds a year. In 1806 the appointment became a Civil one, in the Ministry's gift, and the salary was doubled. As it happened, they choose to appoint a serving Commodore, Captain William Bligh. By choosing a ranking naval officer, the Ministry insured some level of conflict with the highly ranked soldiers in Sydney.

The powers of the Governor related to the original intention of the Colony; almost complete power, in the opinion of one of the early commentators "as Great as any Caesar", over convicts serving their sentence and the civil administration, and over the ships and sailors bringing them here. However the dispute with Major Ross of the Marines indicates where the Governor's power was circumscribed, as Phillip for one could not get Marines to guard the convicts; Major Ross pointed to the regulations.

Jeremy Bentham's point was that rules for governing the maturing Colony had not been passed by Parliament in London, and so deprived the non-convict inhabitants of NS Wales of their British civil law and rights, such as habeus corpus and jury trial. It is around those points that the eruption in January 1808 takes place.

The settlers on the Hawkesbury petitioned Governor Bligh for trial by jury in January 1808, in a petition often seen as supportive of Bligh. John Macarthur, in the trial over the stills, refers to the abrogation by the Governor of the property rights of Englishmen in his primary defence and the Court found for Macarthur and dismissed the prosecution.

September 17, 2007

17 September 2007, by David Povey

Governor King left us this drawing of Benelong.

Continuation of the speech notes for Friday September 21, 2007 at Elizabeth Farm.

The property rights of England were well understood by all settlers in Colonial NS Wales, so they did not rely on Jeremy Bentham to know that they lacked the rights common to Englishmen; it was a sore point in the Colony in 1807.
As students of history it is best that we tread lightly across the Law: the argument put forward Bentham is that the Governor has no authority over emancipated convicts or free settlers, and the property laws in NS Wales do not support capital investment. The free settlers at the Hawkesbury or Green Hills settlements petitioned Governor Bligh for trial by jury, and the rights of English men and women to be granted to them, and these petitioners were Bligh's supporters. Jeremy Bentham, the English parliamentarian and jail reformer, wrote a pamphlet called "The True Bastille" in which he postulates that Magna Carta and habeus corpus are missing from the law in the Colony of New South Wales, in contravention of the principal established in Blackstone, that English laws apply wherever English people are gathered. It is an interesting idea and Samuel Marsden mentions one of Bentham major points, in his 1807 Letter concerning the Colony, in which Marsden suggests that convicts on short sentences are unnecessarily confined here, and when they do leave, cannot afford to take their children and wives with them, and so they leave them here to struggle along as best they can. Bentham's proposition is that convicts out of their sentence should not have to stay in NS Wales, as then a seven year sentence is then transformed into life, and that the concentration of powers in the hands of a despotic Governor is contrary to the laws of England. Of the first proposition, John Macarthur's main concern was willing labour and he opposed any scheme to facilitate expired convictsleaving the Colony. On the second, however, his attitude is quite different, and he too wonders what jurisdiction the Governor has over settlers such as himself. We need to keep in mind that Government then generally did less than we have come to expect today, offering few services. Contention among the military services was also a natural corollary of their isolated existence, for example Major Ross' refusal to allow his marines to guard convicts under Governor Phillip. Governor Phillip was powerless in the face of a direct refusal, because he governed the military under the Articles of War, and the Mutiny Act, and certain forms of duty were forbidden by the regulations. Of the other classes in the early Colony, that of the merchants is the one that concerns our story the most. I number John Macarthur among these men, along with the Commissary John Palmer, Governor King's former secretary Garnnham Blaxcell, Thomas Reiby and others, including the emabcipist traders Lord, Kable and Underwood.
Manning Clarke tells the story of going to Nuremburg and visiting the castle in Worms where the famous meeting between Martin Luther and the Holy Roman Emperor took place. Dressed in finery , King Charles spoke to Luther in Latin, telling him that the Roman Church was the repository of truth for over 1000 years and that he, Charles the fifth, would wipe Martin Luther and his heresy from the face of the earth. Luther is said to have replied, in Saxon German, that "Here I stand. I can do no other. So help me God!" It would not be long before Luther wiped Charles' face from history, after much blood was shed.

September 16, 2007

16 September 2007, by David Povey

A little break in the sequence - this is the first part of my talk at the Friends of Elizabeth Farm for September 21 2007.

I would like to acknowledge the Burrogarang, Dharug, Kurringai and Gandungarra people who lived on this land before we came here and whose spirits and children still live here. In 1807 the population of the Colony numbered around 7000 men and women brought here, 1350 women, 1600 children, and 3700 men, and 4000 Dharug Burrogarang Kurringai and Gandungarra people living around them. 150 women and 1800 men came free or with the Military and Civil establishment, so along with the Children, one half of the population is not from the prison, and one half is. Fewer than 1100 serving convicts in 1807 as few ships, and so few convicts, settlers or stores arrived at the heights of the European war 1801 to 1805, and many convicts are time expired or conditionally pardoned by the year under review. There were usually one or two hundred assorted others, mainly sailors “temporarily” in port.

And these were times of great women and men, when heroes roamed our Colony. Benelong, Arthur Phillip, John Macarthur, Governor Hunter, Colonel Paterson, Governor King, Governor Bligh, Samuel Marsden, Elizabeth Macarthur, Baranga-roo, Abar-oo, Col-bee, Nan-bar-ee, Mrs. King, Mrs. Marsden, Mrs. Johnson, Reverend Johnson, Colonel Johnston, Carnambaygal, Pemulway. Heroes in any time, these men and women were joined by lesser lights no less famous, the pick pocket of the age George Barrington, fancy women, knaves and missionaries to the South Seas, one of whom, George Oakes, is our hero, and two esteemed families, the Palmers and Campbells, whose matriarchs and patriarchs are interred here at St John’s; George Caley; and those operating from afar, Joseph Banks, King George and a succession of Lords and Administrators and Judges who sentenced the thousands of convicts who made up our original stock.

A Note about sources: This period is well covered by secondary sources, and there are excellent primary records for much of the activity covered here. We even have the private correspondence of selected individual's commenting on the action.

I’ve used Alan Atkinson’s assessment of the period from his Europeans in Australia and Ross Fitzgerald’s and Mark Henson’s Bligh, Macarthur and the Rum Rebellion. Also Michael Duffy’s fresh Man of Honour, an interpretation of Macarthur’s life until the Rebellion, and of course Malcolm Ellis’ John Macarthur. I have made use of G. D. Wood’s History of Criminal Law in New South Wales and David Day’s Smugglers and Sailors, a history of the Customs Service from 1788.

An important element illuminated by that text, is the sources of revenue for the Government of NS Wales. Only three possible means of revenue were available to the Governor of the Colony: Treasury Notes drawn on the Government in England, for which the Governor was fully accountable and abuse of which led England to withdraw Governor King, the relevant minister believing King extravagant; another source of revenue was fines levied by a Court in the jurisdiction, and finally by duties laid on all incoming produce of whatever kind. The money raised from this last duty was allowed only for the Orphan Fund, and was raised from all product landed at Sydney Harbour from 1798 onwards. The money raised by duty amounted to 1500 English pounds a year in 1798 to nearly 4000 pounds by 1807. The Fund was large enough to buy Captain Kent’s house, the biggest in Sydney, for more than 2000 pounds in 1801, to become the Orphan School. The Funds also financed the bridge along Bridge Street, the new orphanage at Parramatta and the looms at the Female Factory.

Apart from these landing duties, Court fines could also be a considerable income. The three emancipist Sydney traders, Simeon Lord, Henry Kable and James Underwood were goaled by Governor Bligh, for one month each for transferring goods between vessels tied at Sydney wharf, against the regulations. The traders were also fined one hundred English pounds each, an amount equal to nearly ten percent of the port duties for the year. These amounts were important to the cash-strapped Governor, if only as inducements to his friends.

From 1500 pounds a year during William Balmain’s time to more like 4000 pounds for John Harris, the office of Naval Officer, or chief customs collector became highly sought-after, given that 15% of the amount raised could be kept by the Naval Officer, with 5% going to the chief wharfinger. Bligh changed the personnel in these positions, creating long-lasting animosities based on the lost income, by rewarding his friends, in this case Charles Grimes the Surveyor and Robert Campbell, the Colony’s biggest trader.

Yes, so the history of Customs is important to our story of the pressure cooker in Parramatta in 1807 and 1808, and David Day’s book was an important resource for me. As were the original records, in the Historical Records series for NSW and Australia. So there is no lack of evidence of the events in this period, but what is the student of history to make of this pressure cooker year leading up to the Rebellion of 1808?

Parramatta looked significantly different then! The River was the centre of Town, the waterway leading to Sydney, with a wharf near John Macarthur’s house, and barracks at the eastern end of Town. A road one mile long run from the wharf to the front door of the Governor’s Parramatta house, with lanes running off to the south, the present day Charles, Smith, Church, Marsden and Pitt Streets, that last named becoming Bridge Street and leading to the bridge across the River. The houses in these side-streets had been built as convict huts twenty years before, but now housed single families, often with a business located at the front, and each with a sign on the street. Bootmaker, saddler and harness maker, tailor, barber, butcher and baker had their shops, and every second house a shebeen, selling cheap rum and beds for the night.

Beneath the trees along the River’s side lived poorer Europeans and those indigenous people that remained in Parramatta, still living on the bush foods and selling oysters, fish and eels to the European settlers in Parramatta.

Surrounding the Town were small farms growing grains, and raising animals especially chicken and pigs and growing fruits. Most of the houses in town also had gardens, with one cottage renowned for their roses that covered the cottage. I like to think that cottage may have been on the corner of Hunter Street and Pitt Row where the Rumsey Rose Garden is today. The people in these cottages were a mix of emancipated convicts, partners who have come free and their children. They are joined in multiple relationships with the garrison of soldiers located in the town, numbering around 200, and another 100 rotated to Toongabbie, Seven Hill’s and Prospect duties. There would have been 50 officers to look after the Garrison.

There were also 700 convicts in Parramatta and its surrounds, many in service to local settlers. Other convicts are housed at the Female Factory, the Parramatta Goal and in the inns of the town, or beneath the trees, along the riverbank.

Military law is the order of the day. The barracks, near the Macarthur house, enforced a general order requiring all passer’s-by to announce their intentions to the guard, but I imagine Elizabeth and John’s family were exempt from this rule.

The family at this time was John and Elizabeth, joined by their eldest son Edward, returned from England with James and Elizabeth junior, and the two younger children William and Mary. John junior is away at school in England. The children’s uncle, Hannibal Hawkins Macarthur, has joined the family in Australia, as has Miss Penelope Lucas, their governess. Forty farm hands and servants live on the Parramatta property, with 100 more men and women scattered across the Liverpool and Cow Pastures farms and at Seven Hills.

In Sydney at Government House lives Governor Bligh and his daughter Mary Putland, with her husband Lieutenant Putland, the consumptive captain of the Porpoise, the navy ship in Sydney Harbour. Their house is an uncomfortable mix of official residence and Government offices, half way up the Bridge Street hill. They live on the top floor, with the offices, public rooms and kitchens below.

Into this land of Heroes strides John Macarthur and his wife Elizabeth and their fine Gentlemanly son Edward, whose bust lies in St John’s Church Parramatta. And a sailor extra-ordinary, make no mistake, a hero at Camperdown and Copenhagen, sailed an open boat with twenty men from Tonga to Timor and lost only one man, marooned after the famous Mutiny on the Bounty, repeated the voyage and succeeded in carrying breadfruits plants to Jamaica. This was an age of heroes who fought like Olympian gods. And this tale is of that fight.

John Macarthur has been away in England between 1801 and 1805, where he’d resigned his Captain’s commission in the NS Wales Corps and has returned to the Colony, under contract to raise a mighty flock of sheep on ten thousand acres at the cow pastures, near present day Camden. Called “Camden” after the gracious lord who granted the acres there, to become the Macarthur family’s capitol. Called “cow pastures” because a herd of Governor Phillip’s cattle escaped in 1788 and roam still there, several thousand animals, bequeathed privately, not as government property, by Arthur Phillip to Governor King, they are sold on to John Macarthur.

Governor Bligh has come here on 2000 pounds a year, with an expectation of ten or twelve years, with an active commission as Commodore of a fleet that now comprises only the Porpoise, captain Putland, and the Governor’s daughter Mary Putland. Elizabeth, Bligh’s wife, does not travel and is remaining in England. Perhaps Bligh hopes for mid-term leave at the turn of the decade. He takes out-riders whenever he travels, by coach or horse, and travels armed to the teeth. He has never farmed. I don’t know what to say about him that makes sense of the facts we have before us – he seemed a tyrant to a certain class of people, especially to the military whom he castigated and who in turn took their revenge, and the praise that came to him issued from the pens of his toadies and the recipients of his bounty. He can be extra-ordinarily kind to those in need that he favours, and is considerate as an Administrator. We know he looked after Captain Piper on Norfolk Island most compassionately and promoted him Captain.

The Colony of NS Wales teetered on the precipice of freedom, which in that mercantilist age meant freedom enough to gather wealth, and this freedom was worth fighting for. The Civil and Military had built a nice wicket, with land grants manned by convicts kept at Government’s expense and the produce free to trade. The growth in stock through the period was significant be it pigs, sheep or horses, representing the aspirational stock-keeping habits of the poorer, richer and more active classes, respectively. One time expired man, Andrew Thompson, could equal the landed Military bourgeoisie in assets, and the proprietor of the Government store, John Palmer, and of the largest private store and shop, Palmer’s brother-in-law Robert Campbell, were both significant men. They were firmly on the side of Governor Bligh, as was Grimes the Provost Martial, a sort of chief of police.

In the middle, but finding it impossible to escape the Governor’s justice, are wealthy emancipated convict traders and ordinary soldiers who are summarily jailed or subject to the loss of their property without redress.

And against Bligh is a coalition with Macarthur at its head and its body comprised of everyone who is well-born and aspirational for the colony, or for himself. They will rise up against the oppression of the Governor and, wrapped in the chains of freedom, rule the colony until the arrival of Governor Macquarie December 28, 1809. But we shan’t look too closely at their rule, for now they are plotting dis-rule, from July when they’d simply had enough. A regiment’s pride is abused with caution, and where they had been parted they were now as one under the captaincy of John Macarthur. In anger the business of the Colony went on.

Courts of law sat as tribunals staffed exclusively with Military officers and decided every matter before them. Richard Atkins Esquire as Judge Advocate, Thomas Smith Esquire as Marshall, Samuel Marsden Chaplin & JP (sailed Home February 1807), Thomas Arundell Esquire JP, Mr. Andrew Thompson High Constable, and Mr. George Oakes District Constable made up the force of the Court, with a posse comitatus in operation, comprising expired convicts employed as bailiffs and a watch, under Mr. Gore the Provost Marshall.

The Governor was expected to form part of the party of governing, taking a sponsoring role for many activities in the Colony. As commander in chief, he is expected to contribute to joint operations of the three services, Marines, Soldiers and Navy but is distant from them all. It is certain that the Governor has complete and total power over certain classes of people in the Colony such as convicts, and for expenditure; it is considerably less certain that he controls those free English men and women who have settled here. Those people, now the majority, expect legal rights to property ownership, religion, marriage and safety equivalent to English law. For they need to trade in freedom, knowing their property rights cannot be extinguished by fiat. In July the traders Simeon Lord and co. were jailed for transferring cargo between their ships, although they’d asked permission to so, and offered to pay port charges.

I have already mentioned that the Government has only a small discretionary income, from the duties levied on goods landed in Sydney harbour, amounting to about 3000 pounds a year, to be used for certain approved purposes. The Orphan Fund paid the expenses of the police, for example. The only other local source of funds for the Government were the fines levied by the Courts, amounting to nearly half of the duties raised in the port, a considerable amount. This income was administered by Richard Atkins Esquire, the Colony’s Judge-Advocate, an unusual position normally only used in the military for courts-martial, neither a judge nor a prosecutor but a curious mixture of both.

September 01, 2007

1 September 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur



It has been 6 months since I last had a chance to write my diary. There is so much to tell you.

14 February 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur


Few of us live at Botany Bay, the common name for our Colony back Home

When a ship leaves our shores it carries among other items, our correspondence. whether we are individuals or the Governor. Writing materials by the way are hideously expensive - paper one can buy in London for two shillings a quire will cost us nearly five pounds, not that that is a concern for the Governor.
I was informed today about the Governor's correspondence concerning the Macarthurs: he has written terribly scurrilous things about John to various Government ministers and to his Patron, Mr. Banks. The Governor doubts that wool will ever be a commodity from this place and that the price of shipping is greater than the per pound value of the fleece, which is simply not true. I feel the Governor's friends, especially Mr. Thompson at Green Hills, give him misleading advice about sheep - Mr. Bligh admits he knows nothing about sheep, having spent his life in the King's service at sea. Some naval men are farmers but never Governor Bligh. Mr. Thompson runs a "model farm" at Green Hills, that is supplied with stock of all kinds from Government, and has unlimited labour. Next to the model farm lie Mr. Thompson's own extensive holdings on three sides, and the Governor's private farm on the other. No doubt it is difficult to maintain the boundaries, and I am reliably assured that the mark on the cattle is rarely applied, allowing them to be shifted as needed between the farms, so that what is one day the Governments, is next the property of Mr. Thompson or Governor Bligh. Thompson grows no wool, although his flock is as extensive as our own, he grows only for meat, and lets the hairy rams mix with fine Suffolk ewes, lessening the wool generation by generation, but maintaining his carcass weights. It is from this experience that Governor Bligh bases his calumnies against our wool - as Mr. Thompson grows only hair, so he feels the Colony will only produce such poor fleece. My sheep however are entirely different, showing much more of the Spanish characteristics, and producing fine wool. Other than Mr. Thompson, Mr. Marsden has the greatest flocks, though his are mixed more than mine, as he regards the sale of meat to the local market as his prime consideration.
If our Governor discussed sheep in the way we do, I would be happy for him to refer those discussions Home. But instead of consideration of fleece and breed, his concerns are about the character of the farmer and the increase of our wealth - never has a man more concern about wealth than he! His grants to date have been non-existent, other than to Mr. Palmer, Mr. Thompson and his cronies, and the herd of government cattle is now largely his. In one letter to Lord Castlereagh, he disputes the right of Mr. King to sell cattle to us, although those cattle are the off-spring of Governor Phillip's private cattle, brought here in '88! Phillip gave them to King when he left, and we payed Mr. King handsomely for their progeny that roam the cow pastures. Yet Governor Bligh writes scurrilous comments Home, disputing Mr. King's legacy, and claiming the cattle as his own! It appears that Property of every kind is subject to the whim of the vice-regal representative.
It is raining hard today, so we are all inside - except John and Hannibal who are at the cow pastures - I hope they are dry.

August 31, 2007

13 February 1807, by Elizabeth Macarthur


The farms near Prospect Hill

Nothing happens in the Government House but a friendly eye sees it or a friendly ear hears it, or more often, a friendly hand scribes it. These are my friends, convicts usually, who know that the snippet of knowledge they pass to me are kept confidential, and some suitable reward is made to the friend. Many of these friends I've never met, yet friends they remain, kept friendly by suitable gifts sent through intermediaries. These gifts are taken to the barrack and from there by boat to Sydney, or directly to friends here: small amounts of money, bundles of cloathes, writing paper, candles - these are the currency from which knowledge is paid.
Our currency here is unusual, to say the least. It is legal to pay in wheat or beef, at a set rate determined by Government. Or small copper coins, of Portuguese, Dutch or similar origin, may be exchanged up to a value of five pounds. Or notes of hand, issued by people without wherewithal, to others without the means of exchange. I find our old shoes are worth more than gold, given to the right hands - or feet, rather!
If the Governor writes to a friend that he, the friend, "would be surprised at who claims to be a gentleman here", then knowledge of that is soon passed to me. Usually I will let John know, unless it is hurtful to Mr. Macarthur or needs to be kept close. So I am like a spider with her web, stretched across the Colony.
The Barrack here is now a large, commodious building with good arrangements for the officer posted here, and for the men. They have a ration, and we have found that wisely distributed supplies ensure ready hands to call at need. Our outlying farms - not the cow pastures but at Prospect and the Seven Hills, often require judicious protection, and it is valuable to know that our interests are protected because we have looked after those who can look after us. In return, we feel comfortable travelling around, when many others do not. Much loyalty is claimed by caring for others.