A Complete Account of the Settlement [20]
to a hill, where, by the assistance of a pocket glass, my hopes were realized. My next door neighbour, a brother-officer, was with me, but we could not speak. We wrung each other by the hand, with eyes and hearts overflowing.
Finding that the governor intended to go immediately in his boat down the harbour, I begged to be of his party.
As we proceeded, the object of our hopes soon appeared: a large ship, with English colours flying, working in, between the heads which form the entrance of the harbour. The tumultuous state of our minds represented her in danger; and we were in agony. Soon after, the governor, having ascertained what she was, left us, and stepped into a fishing boat to return to Sydney. The weather was wet and tempestuous but the body is delicate only when the soul is at ease. We pushed through wind and rain, the anxiety of our sensations every moment redoubling. At last we read the word 'London' on her stern. "Pull away, my lads! She is from Old England! A few strokes more, and we shall be aboard! Hurrah for a bellyfull, and news from our friends!" Such were our exhortations to the boat's crew.
A few minutes completed our wishes, and we found ourselves on board the 'Lady Juliana' transport, with two hundred and twenty-five of our countrywomen whom crime or misfortune had condemned to exile. We learned that they had been almost eleven months on their passage, having left Plymouth, into which port they had put in July, 1789. We continued to ask a thousand questions on a breath. Stimulated by curiosity, they inquired in turn; but the right of being first answered, we thought, lay on our side. "Letters, letters!" was the cry. They were produced, and torn open in trembling agitation. News burst upon us like meridian splendor on a blind man. We were overwhelmed with it: public, private, general, and particular. Nor was it until some days had elapsed, that we were able to methodise it, or reduce it into form. We now heard for the first time of our sovereign's illness, and his happy restoration to health. The French revolution of 1789, with all the attendant circumstances of that wonderful and unexpected event, succeeded to amaze us*. Now, too, the disaster which had befallen the 'Guardian', and the liberal and enlarged plan on which she had been stored and fitted out by government for our use, was promulged. It served also, in some measure, to account why we had not sooner heard from England. For had not the 'Guardian' struck on an island of ice, she would probably have reached us three months before, and in this case have prevented the loss of the 'Sirius', although she had sailed from England three months after the 'Lady Juliana'.
[*These words bring to my mind an anecdote, which, though rather out of place, I shall offer no apology for introducing. Among other inquiries, we were anxious to learn whether M. de la Peyrouse, with the two ships under his command, bound on a voyage of discovery, had arrived in France. We heard with concern, that no accounts of them had been received, since they had left Botany Bay, in March, 1788. I remember when they were at that place, one day conversing with Monsieur de la Peyrouse, about the best method of treating savage people, "Sir" said he, "I have sometimes been compelled to commit hostilities upon them, but never without suffering the most poignant regret; for, independent of my own feelings on the occasion, his Majesty's (Louis XVI) last words to me, de sa propre bouche, when I took leave of him at Versailles, were: 'It is my express injunction, that you always treat the Indian nations with kindness and humanity. Gratify their wishes, and never, but in a case of the last necessity, when self-defence requires it, shed human blood.' Are these the sentiments of a tyrant, of a sanguinary and perfidious man?"
A general thanksgiving to Almighty God, for his Majesty's recovery, and happy restoration to his family and subjects, was ordered to be offered up on the following Wednesday, when all public labour was suspended; and every person
Finding that the governor intended to go immediately in his boat down the harbour, I begged to be of his party.
As we proceeded, the object of our hopes soon appeared: a large ship, with English colours flying, working in, between the heads which form the entrance of the harbour. The tumultuous state of our minds represented her in danger; and we were in agony. Soon after, the governor, having ascertained what she was, left us, and stepped into a fishing boat to return to Sydney. The weather was wet and tempestuous but the body is delicate only when the soul is at ease. We pushed through wind and rain, the anxiety of our sensations every moment redoubling. At last we read the word 'London' on her stern. "Pull away, my lads! She is from Old England! A few strokes more, and we shall be aboard! Hurrah for a bellyfull, and news from our friends!" Such were our exhortations to the boat's crew.
A few minutes completed our wishes, and we found ourselves on board the 'Lady Juliana' transport, with two hundred and twenty-five of our countrywomen whom crime or misfortune had condemned to exile. We learned that they had been almost eleven months on their passage, having left Plymouth, into which port they had put in July, 1789. We continued to ask a thousand questions on a breath. Stimulated by curiosity, they inquired in turn; but the right of being first answered, we thought, lay on our side. "Letters, letters!" was the cry. They were produced, and torn open in trembling agitation. News burst upon us like meridian splendor on a blind man. We were overwhelmed with it: public, private, general, and particular. Nor was it until some days had elapsed, that we were able to methodise it, or reduce it into form. We now heard for the first time of our sovereign's illness, and his happy restoration to health. The French revolution of 1789, with all the attendant circumstances of that wonderful and unexpected event, succeeded to amaze us*. Now, too, the disaster which had befallen the 'Guardian', and the liberal and enlarged plan on which she had been stored and fitted out by government for our use, was promulged. It served also, in some measure, to account why we had not sooner heard from England. For had not the 'Guardian' struck on an island of ice, she would probably have reached us three months before, and in this case have prevented the loss of the 'Sirius', although she had sailed from England three months after the 'Lady Juliana'.
[*These words bring to my mind an anecdote, which, though rather out of place, I shall offer no apology for introducing. Among other inquiries, we were anxious to learn whether M. de la Peyrouse, with the two ships under his command, bound on a voyage of discovery, had arrived in France. We heard with concern, that no accounts of them had been received, since they had left Botany Bay, in March, 1788. I remember when they were at that place, one day conversing with Monsieur de la Peyrouse, about the best method of treating savage people, "Sir" said he, "I have sometimes been compelled to commit hostilities upon them, but never without suffering the most poignant regret; for, independent of my own feelings on the occasion, his Majesty's (Louis XVI) last words to me, de sa propre bouche, when I took leave of him at Versailles, were: 'It is my express injunction, that you always treat the Indian nations with kindness and humanity. Gratify their wishes, and never, but in a case of the last necessity, when self-defence requires it, shed human blood.' Are these the sentiments of a tyrant, of a sanguinary and perfidious man?"
A general thanksgiving to Almighty God, for his Majesty's recovery, and happy restoration to his family and subjects, was ordered to be offered up on the following Wednesday, when all public labour was suspended; and every person