resistance he submitted. On the Saturday evening the men were sentenced, and executed on the Monday following. Their confession left no doubt of their guilt: they had committed murder that they might escape from misery; but they asserted that the principal was Browne, and the accessory Salmon—the reverse of the indictment. During their long consultation the jurors were allowed refreshment; but on the Friday evening several resolved to elope: at a late hour they broke past the astonished constables, and returned to their homes. They were, however, recalled by the sheriff, and kept under stricter watch until the trial ended.
Amusements of the turf, officially patronised in other countries, were discouraged in this. From an early date, occasional matches were made for large stakes; but in 1827, races were regularly established at Ross. The course was lined off, a stand erected, in which about fifty well dressed persons were spectators. The riders were equipped in different colored clothing, and as they darted along, obscured at intervals by foliage, the scene was picturesque and animated. A race was contested by Messrs. Gregson and Hardwicke, which the latter lost. A public dinner followed; but the waiter was blindfolded, and his pudding stolen as he entered the tent. The hats and coats disappeared; and one cavalier was robbed of his boots. "These things," said the reporter, "are fraught with discomfort, and disgraceful in themselves:" an opinion which time has not shaken.
Arthur probably had no great taste for such pleasures; but he ascribed his unwillingness to support them, to their tendency to excite the prisoner population, and seduce them into disobedience and crime. No regulations or punishments could hinder their haunting the tents, or deter them from intemperance and consequent miseries.
Happily dissention disappeared in the presence of distress. Arthur's name is on the list of subscription for the family of Captain Laughton, who having lost his property by shipwreck and fraud, was drowned on the coast. Governor Arthur gave twenty guineas, and thus fixed the high scale of colonial benevolence, which no vicissitude of public affairs has abated.
The largest private subscriber was Captain Carne, of the Cumberland; not less unfortunate than Laughton. When no tidings were heard of the vessel, it was supposed she had foundered; but in the year 1828, Captain Duthie, of the Bengal Merchant, threw light on her fate. He had found the Clarinda, Captain Crew, at Rio, who had been boarded in lat. 8° S. The pirates chained him to the deck while they robbed the vessel: he saw a bucket, on which he could trace the word Cumberland. Some of the pirates proposed that Crew should walk the plank, but were resisted by the Captain. A little black boy, shipped by the Clarinda at the Cape de Verde Island, remembered the pirate vessel as often seen in that port.
In what form the Cumberland perished is not certainly known. Pirates executed in England for other crimes, were supposed to be guilty of this: more than a hundred and fifty persons perished by their violence. Some they cut down, and others they cast overboard. They were driven to the port of Cadiz by a storm, and attempting to negociate a bill they were detected. A ship of war conveyed them to Gibraltar, where several suffered; others were forwarded to England, and condemned there. The story of the capture was long a standing topic in the unarmed merchantmen that passed her track. As the emigrant, even now, approaches the supposed latitude, he hears with bated breath the fate of the Cumberland, whenever a strange sail darkens the horizon.
FOOTNOTES:
[154] Report of the Lords of the Council, May, 1849.
[155] Despatch, 1828.
SECTION VI
Attempts were made in the county of Cornwall to form a collegiate institution, for the education of youth and the advancement of science (1826). It was proposed to erect buildings, to govern the college by a directory of patrons, and to establish a public library and lecture room. For these purposes a fund was contributed: twenty-four persons subscribed £50 each on the spot. A commencement was made at Norfolk Plains; but the project failed, and sunk into a private academy.
In 1828, the government determined to establish a school at New Norfolk, called the "King's Grammar School." The members of the government were the board of guardians: the master was in holy orders. This effort was also frustrated. Such attempts were not, however, lost: they were in reality, not only the pledges but the causes of final success.
But the establishment of the King's Orphan School (1828) was successful. It was chiefly designed for the numerous children whose parents were unable to support them, who had deserted, or who were dead. It was placed under the guidance of a committee, and afforded protection to many children who must have sunk under the influence of a vicious example. In this island the fatherless have found mercy. In the absence of natural ties, the settlers have often displayed a parental tenderness in educating the children of the outcast and the stranger.
The public institutions which multiplied at this period, tended to mitigate the spirit of party. In 1826, several master tradesmen met to project a mechanics' institute. In 1827, they called a meeting of the inhabitants, who having chosen Mr. Gellibrand their chairman, organised the institution: the governor was invited to be patron, the chief justice was chosen president, and Mr. James Wood appointed secretary. Dr. James Ross, called the "Birkbeck of Tasmania," delivered the first lecture (July 17), on the science of mechanics. The second, on astronomy, by Mr. Gellibrand, senior: Mr. Hackett, on steam engines; Mr. Giblin, senior, on astronomy; and Dr. Turnbull, on chemistry, completed the course. Mr. James Thomson gave lessons in geometry to a youthful class. These efforts languished during the absence of the secretary in Great Britain; but in September, 1829, the former lecturers reappeared: contributions were increased, and a library and apparatus were obtained from England. In 1830, two hundred members were enrolled, and the institution was promoted by all classes of society.
Among its supporters, Dr. James Ross occupied the first place: a man whose name will be ever mentioned with respect. His political career does not receive or deserve unqualified praise: as a partizan of Arthur, he sometimes sanctioned by his pen what it is difficult to vindicate; but he contributed to the intellectual advancement and external reputation of the colony, beyond any person of his day. Dr. Ross was the son of a Scotch advocate: educated at Aberdeen University, and some time employed as a planter in Grenada, where he became an advocate of negro freedom. He afterwards established a school at Sevenoaks, Kent; but his family kept pace with his fortunes. He determined to emigrate, and arrived in Van Diemen's Land in 1822. Some error in the shipment of his goods, upon the schedule of which he claimed 2,560 acres, deprived him of one-half. He chose his location on the Shannon, and called his cottage the "Hermitage." Here he was vexed with the incursions of cattle, the perfidy of his servants, the dread of bushrangers, and the visits of the blacks; and he willingly accepted the office of government printer, which Mr. Bent had lost. The Courier, his newspaper, patronised by the governor, obtained a large circulation, and in 1830 published 750 copies. He wrote with great facility and copiousness. In a letter to a friend, he said—"I write my articles, engrave my vignettes, set the types, adjust the press. Sometimes I set up a few lines myself, and dictate at the same time to one or two of my compositors. Sometimes I write three lines of a sentence for one, three lines of a sentence for another. I teach my own children, nine in all, at the same time that I write paragraphs."[156]
A genial spirit, except when troubled by political anger, usually sparkles in the writings of Dr. Ross, and in such case they are rather unfair than bitter. Wherever Arthur disliked, Ross opposed. He denounced the emigration of the poor, and Archbishop Whately charged him with baseness, in supporting the penal system of transportation; but no colonist would question his sincerity. Dr. Ross retired from his literary labors in 1837, and not long after closed his earthly toils. In his last address to the public, he said, "independence of spirit has been my motto; freedom my watchword; the happiness