Moondyne/The Parliamentary Committee
"Mr. Sheridan is to go before the Committee to-day, is he not?" asked Lord Somers, the Colonial Secretary, as he sat writing in Mr. Wyville's study, with Sheridan reading the Times by the window, and Hamerton lounging in an easy-chair.
"What Committee?" asked Hamerton, heedlessly.
"The Committee appointed to hear Sir Joshua Hobb's argument against our Penal Bill," said the Secretary, as he continued to write.
"Does Sheridan know anything about prisons?" drawled Hamerton.
"He knows something about Australia and the men we send there," said the Secretary.
"Well—Hobb doesn't. Hobb is a humbug. What does he want?"
"To control the Australian Penal System from Parliament Street, and, instead of Mr. Wyville's humane bill, to apply his own system to the penal colony."
"What do you think of that, Mr. Sheridan?" asked Hamerton, without raising his head from the cushion.
That it would be folly before Mr. Wyville's bill was drawn—and criminal afterwards."
"Bravo!" said Hamerton, sitting straight; "bravo, Australia! Go before the Committee, by all means, and talk just in that tone. When do they sit?"
"In an hour," said Lord Somers. "We are only waiting for Mr. Wyville, and then we go to the House."
"May I go?" asked Hamerton.
"Certainly," said the Secretary. "You may get a chapter for a novel, or a leader for the Telegraph."
Mr. Wyville soon after entered, and the merits of the opposing bills were freely discussed for a quarter of an hour. At length Lord Somers said it was time to start, and they proceeded on foot towards the Parliament House, Lord Somers and Hamerton leading, and Mr. Wyville and Sheridan following.
On the way Mr. Wyville led his companion to speak of the sandalwood trade, and seemed to be much interested in its details. At one point he interrupted Sheridan, who was describing the precipitous outer ridge of the Iron-stone Hills.
"Your teams have to follow the winding foot of this precipice for many miles, have they not?" he asked.
"For thirty-two miles," answered Sheridan.
"Which, of course, adds much to the expense of shipping the sandalwood?"
"Adds very seriously, indeed, for the best sandalwood lies back within the bend; so that our teams, having turned the farther flank of the hills, must return and proceed nearly thirty miles back towards the shore."
"Suppose it were possible to throw a chain slide from the brow of the Blackwood Head, near Bunbury, to a point on the plain—what would that save?"
"Just fifty miles of teaming," answered Sheridan, looking at Wyville in surprise. "But such a chain—could never be forged."
"The Americans have made slides for wood nearly as long," said Mr. Wyville.
Five ships could not carry enough chain from England for such a slide."
"Forge it on the spot," said Mr. Wyville. "The very hills can be smelted into metal. I have had this in mind for some years, Mr. Sheridan, and I mean to attempt the work when we return. It will employ all the idle men in the colony."
Sheridan was surprised beyond words to find Mr. Wyville so familiar with the very scenes of his own labour. He hardly knew what to say about Wyville's personal interest in a district which the Sandalwood Company had marked off and claimed as their property by right of possession, though they had neglected Sheridan's advice to buy or lease the land from the Government.
The conversation ceased as they entered the House of Commons, and proceeded to the committee room, where sat Sir Joshua Hobb at a table, turning over a pile of documents, and beside him, pen in hand, Mr. Haggett, who took in a reef of lip as Mr. Wyville and Sheridan entered.
Since Haggett's return from Australia, three years before, he had adopted a peculiar manner towards Mr. Wyville. He treated him with respect, perhaps because he feared him; but when he could observe him without himself being seen, be never tired of looking at him, as if he were intently solving a problem, and hoped to read its deepest meaning in some possible expression of Mr. Wyville's face.
On the large table lay a map of the penal colony of West Australia.
The Committee consisted of five average M.P.'s, three country gentlemen, who had not the remotest knowledge of penal systems, nor of any other than systems of drainage; and two lawyers, who asked all the questions, and pretended to understand the whole subject.
The Committee treated Sir Joshua Hobb, K.C.B., as a most distinguished personage, whose every word possessed particular gravity and value. He delivered a set speech against lenience to prisoners, and made a deep impression on the Committee. He was about to sit down, when Mr. Haggett laid a folded paper beside his hand. Sir Joshua glanced at the document, and resumed, in a convincing tone—
"Here, gentlemen," he said, touching the paper repeatedly with his finger, "here is an instance of the sentimental method, and its effect on a desperate criminal—and all those who are sent to Australia are desperate. Twenty years ago, a young man was convicted at York Assizes, for poaching. It was during a time of business depression; the capitalists and employers had closed their works, and locked out their hands. Nothing else could be done—men cannot risk their money when markets are falling. During this time, the deer in Lord Scarborough's park had been killed by the score, and a close watch was set. This man was caught in the night, carrying a deer on his shoulders from the park. He made a violent resistance, striking one of the keepers a terrible blow that felled him to the earth, senseless. The poacher was overpowered, however, and sent to prison until the Assizes. At his trial he pleaded defiantly that he had a right to the deer; that thousands were starving to death—men, women, and children—in the streets of the town; and that God had given no man the right to herd hundreds of useless deer while human beings were dying of hunger. The ignorant and dangerous people who heard him cheered wildly in the court at this lawless speech. Gentlemen, this poacher was a desperate radical—a Chartist, no doubt—who ought to have been severely treated. But the judge looked leniently on the case, because it was proved that the poacher's own mother and sisters were starving. The prisoner got off with one month's imprisonment. What was the result of this mildness? At the very next Assizes the same judge tried the same prisoner for a similar crime, and the audacious villain made the same defence.
"If it were a light crime six months ago," he said to the mistaken judge, "it is no heavier now, for the cause remains."
Well, he was sentenced to ten years' penal servitude, and was transported to West Australia. After serving some years there, the lenient system again came in, and he was hired out to a settler, a respectable man, though an ex-convict. Some time afterwards, the violent Chartist attempted to murder his employer, and then escaped into the bush. He was captured, but escaped again, and was again re-captured by the very man he had tried to murder. Mark the dreadful ending, gentlemen, to this series of mistaken lenities to a criminal. On their way to the prison, the absconder broke his manacles, seized a pistol from a native policeman, murdered his brave captor, and escaped again to the bush."
"God bless me! what a shocking story!" said one of the Committee.
"Was the fellow captured again?" asked one of the lawyers.
"No," said Sir Joshua; "he escaped to the swamps. But there is a rumour among the convicts that he is still alive. Is there not, Mr. Haggett?"
Mr. Haggett bent his head in assent. Then he rubbed his forehead and eyes, as if relieved of a strain. He had been watching the face of Mr. Wyville with painful eagerness as Sir Joshua spoke; but in that impassive visage no line of meaning to Haggett's eyes could be traced.
Sir Joshua sat down, confident that he could depend on the Committee for a report in his favour.
"Is there actual evidence that this convict of whom you spoke murdered his captor?"
Mr. Wyville addressed Sir Joshua Hobb, standing at the end of the long green table. There was nothing in the words, but every one in the room felt a thrill at the deep sound of the resonant voice.
The Committee, who had not looked at Mr. Wyville before, stared at him now in undisguised surprise. He was strangely powerful as he stood there alone, looking calmly at Sir Joshua for an answer.
"Evidence? Certainly, there is evidence. The brave settler who captured the malefactor disappeared; and the bushman from whom the convict seized the pistol saw him point it at the head of his captor. Is not that evidence enough?"
"Not for a court of justice," quietly answered Mr. Wyville.
"Sir," said Sir Joshua Hobb, superciliously, "it may not appeal to sentimental judgments; but it carries conviction to reasonable minds."
"It should not—for it is not true!" said Mr. Wyville, his tone somewhat deepened with earnestness.
Sir Joshua Hobb started angrily to his feet. He glared at Mr. Wyville.
"Do you know it to be false?" he sternly asked.
"Yes!"
"How do you know?"
"I, myself, saw the death of this man that you say was murdered."
"You saw his death!" said in one breath Sir Joshua and the Committee.
"Yes. He accepted a bribe from the man he had captured, and released him. I saw this settler afterwards die of thirst on the plains—I came upon him by accident—he died before my eyes, alone—and he was not murdered."
Sir Joshua Hobb sat down, and twisted nervously on his seat. Mr. Haggett looked frightened, as if he had introduced an unfortunate subject for his master's use. He wrote on a slip of paper, and handed it to Sir Joshua, who read, and then turned to Mr. Wyville.
"What was the name of the man you saw die?" he asked.
"Isaac Bowman," answered Mr. Wyville.
Both Sir Joshua and Mr. Haggett settled down in their seats, having no more to say or suggest.
"You have lived a long time in West Australia, Mr. Wyville?" asked one of the lawyers of the Committee, after a surprised pause.
"Many years."
"You are the owner of property in the colony?"
"Yes."
Sir Joshua Hobb pricked up his ears, and turned sharply on his chair, with an insolent stare.
"Where does your property lie?" he asked.
"In the Vasse district," answered Mr. Wyville.
"Here is a map of West Australia," said Sir Joshua Hobb, with an overbearing air; "will you be kind enough to point out to the Committee the location of your possessions?"
There was obviously so malevolent a meaning in Sir Joshua Hobb's request, that the whole Committee and the gentlemen present stood up to watch the map, expecting Mr. Wyville to approach. But he did not move.
My boundaries are easily traced," he said, from his place at the end of the table; " the northern and southern limits are the 33rd and the 34th parallels of latitude, and the eastern and western boundaries are the 115th and 116th of longitude."
One of the Committee followed with his finger the amazing outline, after Mr. Wyville had spoken. There was deep silence for a time, followed by long breaths of surprise.
"All the land within those lines is your—estate?" diffidently asked one of the country gentlemen.
Mr. Wyville gravely bowed.
"Estate!" said one of the lawyers in a low tone, when he had summed up the extent in square miles; "it is a Principality!"
"From whom did you purchase this land?" asked Sir Joshua, but in an altered tone.
"From the Queen!" said Mr. Wyville, without moving a muscle of his impressive face.
"Directly from Her Majesty?"
"I received my deeds through the Colonial Office," answered Mr. Wyville, with a quiet motion of the hand towards Lord Somers.
The Colonial Secretary, seeing the eyes of all present turned upon him, bowed to the Committee in corroboration.
"The deeds of Mr. Wyville's estate, outlined as he has: stated, passed through the Colonial Office, directly from Her Majesty the Queen," said Lord Somers, in a formal manner.
The Committee sat silent for several moments, evidently dazed at the unexpected issue of their investigations. Mr. Wyville was the first to speak.
"I ask to have those prison records corrected, and at once, Sir Joshua Hobb," he said slowly. "It must not stand that the convict of whom you spoke was a murderer."
"By all means. Have the records corrected immediately," said the Committee, who began to look askance at Sir Joshua Hobb.
Mr. Wyville then addressed the Committee, in favour of the new and humane penal bill. Whether it was his arguments, or the remembrance of his princely estate, that worked in his favour, certain it was that when he had concluded the Committee was unanimously in his favour.
"Mr. Wyville," said the chairman, before they adjourned, "we are of one mind-that the Bill reported by the Government should be adopted by the House; and we shall so report. Good-day, gentlemen."
Sir Joshua Hobb rapidly withdrew, coldly bowing. He was closely followed by Haggett.
Lord Somers, Hamerton, and Mr. Wyville were speaking together, while Sheridan, who was attentively studying the map, suddenly startled the others by an excited exclamation.
"Hello!" said Hamerton, "has Sir Joshua dropped a hornet for you, too?"
"Mr. Wyville, this is terrible," cried Sheridan, strangely moved. "Those lines of your property cover every acre of our sandalwood land!"
"Ah-ha!" ejaculated Hamerton.
"I thought this land was ours," continued Sheridan, in great distress of mind. "How long has it been yours?"
"Ten years," said Mr. Wyville.
Sheridan sank nerveless into a seat. The strong frame that could brave and bear the severest strains of labour and care, was subdued in one instant by this overwhelming discovery.
He had been cutting sandalwood for nine years on this man's land. Every farthing he had made for his company and himself belonged in common honesty to another!
Mr. Wyville, who was not surprised, but had evidently expected thismoment, walked over to Sheridan, and laid a strong hand on his shoulder, expressing more kindness and affection in the manly force and silence of the act than could possibly have been spoken in words. Sheridan felt the impulse precisely as it was meant.
"The land was yours," Mr. Wyville said, after a pause; "for I had made no claim. I knew of your work, and I gave you no warning. According to the law of the colony, and of acted right."
Sheridan's face brightened. To him personally his success had brought little to covet; but he was sensitive to the core at the thought of trouble and great loss to the Company, caused under his supervision.
"We return to Australia together, Mr. Sheridan," said Wyville, holding out his hand; "and I think, somehow, we shall neither of us leave it again. The vigour of your past life shall be as nothing to that which the future shall evoke. Shall we not work together?"
Swift tears of pleasure rushed to Sheridan's eyes at the earnest and unexpected words; and the look that passed between the two men as they clasped hands was of brief but beautiful intensity.
"Well, Hamerton?" asked Lord Somers, smiling, as if astonished beyond further speech.
"Well? What of it? I suppose you call this strange," said Hamerton.
"You don't?" asked the Secretary.
"No, I don't," said Hamerton, rising from his chair. "I call it utter commonplace—for these Australians; the most prosaic set of events I have yet seen them indulge in. I begin to realize the meaning of the Antipodes: their common ways are our extraordinary ones—and they don't seem to have any uncommon ones.