CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

England, 1802

Guardian and governor

Lord St Vincent rejected Bligh’s request to be ‘superseded’ for the same reason he had for all Royal Navy captains at the end of 1801: no treaty had been signed by the French, and in short, the British would not trust them until it was. That meant everyone remained on a war footing even though the threat was at a low level.

Trans-Channel negotiations were underway: the Marquess Cornwallis had been sent to France to negotiate the truce. It eventuated, and on 25 March 1802 the Treaty of Amiens was signed in the French city of Amiens by Cornwallis and Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s older brother. It was said to be a ‘Definitive Treaty of Peace’ – but that peace would last only one year.

Regardless, this treaty was good news for Bligh: Irresistible was laid-up and he was able to go ashore and head home, but only on half-pay.

He enjoyed considerable time relaxing with his family in Lambeth, on the edge of the Thames, but in early 1803 the Admiralty once again called on his surveying skills, this time for waters around the heavily indented coast of Flushing in the southwest of England, and at Dungeness, in the southeast. There was good reason for the Admiralty having a man of Bligh’s ability undertaking these surveys: they needed to be completed as soon as possible because, on the opposite side of the Channel, Napoleon was beginning to show a disregard for the treaty signed the previous year – another war between the two sides was becoming increasingly likely. The Admiralty had to be prepared for this eventuality: it needed to consider new anchorages for its fleets along the coast, and each proposed site had to be surveyed so accurate navigation charts could be created for the ships they intended to anchor there, lying in wait. So, Bligh again was the preferred man for the task. A Dover revenue cutter was requisitioned and put at his disposal for these investigations.

In May 1803, when this survey work was far from finished, the British Parliament decided Napoleon’s provocative acts had gone too far, so yet again war was declared on France,

Bligh wasn’t called up for active service until May 1804, when he was commissioned as commander of one of the navy’s most prominent ships, HMS Warrior, a third-rate ship-of-the-line which had been under repair in Plymouth docks the previous year. She was launched at Portsmouth in 1781 and had seen action at the Battle of Copenhagen.

Napoleon’s sabre rattling reached a point where rumours – probably of his own making – reached England that he was planning an invasion of gigantic proportions: a fleet of up to 2,000 vessels and an army of 160,000 men. Again, Bligh’s surveying and mapping skills came to the fore. This time he was sent on a secret mission to Holland where he was to survey the entrance to the River Scheldt, and report back on what he considered to be the most suitable positioning for a British blockade. The Admiralty believed that if Napoleon’s threat was real then many of the ships that would join his invasion force would be built at the Scheldt. Obviously, if that did occur, the British wanted to make sure they didn’t get to leave port. Bligh agreed with this theory, telling his wife in a letter in June 1804: ‘I think that if the French fleet were to come out, they would be full of men, and could take our inshore Squadron to pieces.’

Bligh’s more localised concern was that he, like many other captains, was struggling to find a full complement of men for his ship, and because of this he had to accept men he would not otherwise choose. When Warrior was at sea she was either patrolling the Channel or providing provisions, hay and livestock to squadrons that remained offshore. Unfortunately for the captain, the good relationships he had enjoyed with his crew during recent postings weren’t to be found aboard Warrior: it was a bad mix of men and it would prove to be one of his most frustrating appointments. His worst offender was an officer, second lieutenant John Frazier, whom Bligh had earlier had arrested and sent to a court martial for insulting language and disrespect towards the commander.

Frazier was acquitted at the court martial, principally because the word of the ship’s surgeon contradicted that of Bligh. Frazier was then reinstated to the crew of Warrior and from that moment set himself on a course of revenge against his commander. An attempt came in November, 1804. He wrote to the Admiralty claiming Bligh had, among other things, grossly insulted and ill-treated him by calling him a rascal, scoundrel and shaking his fist in his face. He demanded that Bligh be court martialled.

Naval protocol had to be followed so Bligh was ordered to attend the court martial scheduled immediately after Warrior returned to Torbay, east of Plymouth, on 23 February 1805. The hearing lasted for two days, and on 1 March The Times newspaper in London reported the verdict: ‘Captain Bligh was reprimanded with an admonition from the President, and restored to his command.’ Bligh then returned to Warrior while Frazier was never again heard of in naval ranks.

This incident seemingly did nothing to harm Bligh’s standing in the navy; he remained highly respected by the Admiralty, by the government and even more so by Sir Joseph Banks. This esteem was apparent when, that same month, Banks suggested to the government that Bligh be given the plum role of governor of New South Wales – an appointment following in the wake of governors Phillip, Hunter and King. All three governors were seen as being too lenient when it came to holding authority over the colony, and accordingly control was being lost to the militia and powerful individuals in the society. Banks, who could lay claim to being the father of the penal colony as it was established on his suggestion, wanted an unimpeachable man of firm discipline and integrity for the role of fourth governor, and Bligh was that man.

On 15 March 1805, Banks advised Bligh that he wanted him as governor:

My dear Sir,

An opportunity has occurred this day which seems to me to lay open an opportunity of being of service to you; and as I hope I never omit any chance of being useful to a friend whom I esteem, as I do you, I lose not a minute in apprising you of it.

I have always, since the first institution of the new colony at New South Wales, taken a deep interest in its success, and have been constantly consulted by His Majesty’s Minister, through all the changes there have been in the department which directs it, relative to the more important concerns of the colonists.

At present, King, the Governor, is tired of his station; and well he may be so. He has carried into effect a reform of great extent, which militated much with the interest of the soldiers and settlers there. He is, consequently, disliked and much opposed, and has asked leave to return …

The words ‘disliked and much opposed’ carried far more relevance in this offer than Bligh appreciated at the time. Had he realised what was meant he could well have rejected the offer there and then.

As it was he was torn by the offer, and he shared his concerns with Sir Joseph:

Warrior at sea 21 March 1805

Thursday

You will I have no doubt kindly made every allowance for my not giving you a decisive answer in the generous and friendly offer you have made me respecting my occupying so advantageous as well as respectable situation as a Governor of NSW and I am sure you will feel for me [as I must have] family consultation with my wife and six daughters by letter on such a serious consideration between us, and which could have been settled in a day or two had we been together …

At my time of life … what a serious thing it is you will allow, to take leave forever of a wife who has united her lot with mine for 30 years, which I think would be the case if I should go without her; and her undertaking the voyage I fear could be her death owing to her extreme horror of the sea.

The moment I hear from Mrs Bligh I will write to you.

Bligh, sitting at his desk aboard Warrior, wrote a letter to his Betsy, telling her of the offer and assuring her that she would be the one making the final decision. He then sealed the letter and arranged for it to be delivered ashore. It would then be carried to the family home in London. He waited anxiously to hear her response.

It was a significant offer, with significant repercussions for Bligh’s family and his career. Betsy subsequently wrote to Banks:

6 April 1805

Durham Place

I have received a letter from Captain Bligh which makes me think he is inclined to accept of the offer your generous friendship has made him of the governor of New South Wales. His affection for his family made him wish we could have accompanied him …

He seems determined to undertake this voyage as he did all his others and I believe all sailors ever will do with the hope of return.

He is anxious to know many things …

As a result of this letter Banks advised Bligh he would receive as much as 2,000 pounds a year, twice as much as Governor King was receiving, and King, Banks wrote, was living ‘like a prince’. He also suggested that Bligh might take his daughters, saying: ‘Your daughters will have a better chance of marrying suitably there than they can have here; for as the colony grows richer … I can have no doubt but that in a few years there will be men there very capable of supporting wives in a creditable manner, and very desirous of taking them from a respectable and good family.’ He apparently made sure Betsy was well aware of this information, and at the same time tried to allay any fears she might have about the proposed posting.

Regardless, this was an extremely difficult decision for her to make. Betsy had spent her entire married life raising six daughters, all the time waiting and wondering about the fate of her seafaring husband. Would she ever see him again? Had his ship been wrecked on an uncharted reef in a remote part of the Pacific? Had he been lost at sea or killed in battle? And how would she cope with six daughters if he didn’t return home? Now, at a time in his career when he could soon retire ashore and establish a more normal family life with his wife and children, Bligh was considering spending up to four years on the opposite side of the world – without his wife and children. It was already accepted that Betsy could not, and would not, travel to the colony: the decision on accepting or rejecting the posting could only be based on what benefit the position of governor might bring to the family. Both parents were committed to providing for their daughters the best they could – and this was what influenced their final decision: the governorship would allow them ‘to procure a little affluence’ and further assist the girls. William Bligh was going to be the fourth governor of New South Wales.

Almost five weeks after being made the offer, during which time Bligh would have spent most, if not all that time aboard his ship, he confirmed to Banks in a letter written while on Warrior, at anchor in Cawsand Bay, at the edge of Plymouth Sound, that he would accept the appointment:

23 April 1805

I have just time to inform you we anchored this morning and received orders to refit with the utmost dispatch and victual for 6 months to be ready to push after the French in case they put to sea indeed I have just heard that all sail of the line, several frigates and many troops on board, have escaped from Toulon. I hope my dear sir you have received my letter of the 18th accepting of your kind and generous offer to me, and I have this moment heard from Mrs Bligh that you had sent her word of my appointment was fixed …

Two days later he thought it best to advise Banks that he might be ordered to sail at short notice – to go in pursuit of the French:

Warrior in Cawsand Bay

25 April 1805

By the time you will receive this my former letter will have reached you with acknowledgement of my thanks and my acceptance of the appointment to the Colony of New South Wales, also of my arrival at this port very unexpectedly on Tuesday last. Yesterday the wind came so strong the eastward I could not get on shore but in the evening it moderated, and by the guard boat your letter of the 21st was sent out to me. I am much obliged to you my dear sir for the trouble and pains you have taken to explain to me what I may expect.

I think in a week’s time I shall have the Warrior very nearly ready for sea and circumstances may require my suddenly being ordered to sail.

On 14 May 1805 – a year after he had taken command of Warrior – it was announced that Bligh would be the next governor of New South Wales. He took leave of the ship and returned to London to put his affairs in order and begin preparations for the journey to Sydney. Warrior would be the last ship of any significance he would command for the Royal Navy.

While he was making the final arrangements for his departure to what was then the most remote outpost in the British Empire, Bligh held one gnawing concern: the matter of his naval career. He had been advised that a governorship no longer went hand-in-hand with naval service, so his continued rise towards the rank of Admiral might be adversely affected. On 14 July he wrote from home in Durham Place, Lambeth, telling Banks of this: ‘What I am anxious to obtain from the Admiralty is, that the Commission I am to have may be such as to prevent losing my rank for the time being according to the seniority I hold in the list of captains …’ Banks allayed those concerns, saying that he would not have encouraged him to take on the role of governor ‘which may, I fear, on a future occasion be interpreted by the Admiralty into a dereliction of your chance of a Flag’. Time would reveal Banks was correct. Bligh kept his rank.

In February 1806, the soon-to-be Governor Bligh departed England for his term in the fledgling, yet foundering colony. It was a highly emotional farewell: besides leaving his beloved Betsy at home, five of his six daughters had decided to remain with their mother, which disappointed him immensely. It was only his married daughter, Mary, and her husband, John Putland, a naval lieutenant, who would join him in Sydney Town. They sailed aboard the ship Lady Madeleine Sinclair as part of a five-ship convict transport convoy being led by HMS Porpoise, commanded by Captain Joseph Short.

While the seven-month, 12,000-nautical-mile passage to Sydney was relatively straightforward, it proved to be extremely tough going for Bligh and Short on a personal basis. The two clashed regularly in violent quarrels over who was actually in charge of the convoy. The orders issued by the Admiralty were ambiguous. Short’s interpretation was that he had been directed to take command over all ships, but to place himself under Bligh’s command, as soon as they reached their destination. This, he believed, meant he was commander of the convoy in every sense, apart from Bligh making the call on the course to be followed and the ports they would visit en route. However, Bligh’s understanding of the orders had him firm in the belief that he, by being superior in rank to Short, was in charge of the convoy, even though he was not aboard the lead ship, Porpoise. Short was also travelling with his wife and seven children, intending to settle in New South Wales. This confrontation became increasingly heated as the ships made miles, and at one stage reached a point where it could have ended in tragedy. Bligh ordered his ship, Lady Madeleine Sinclair, to hold course after Short signalled from Porpoise to do otherwise. Short erupted when he realised Bligh was ignoring his directive, and decided in an instant to exert his perceived authority over the situation.

He ordered his men to fire a cannon shot across the bow of Lady Madeleine Sinclair, and when that drew no response from Bligh, he called for another to be fired across the stern. With Bligh still holding course, Short then ordered the cannon to be aimed for a direct hit amidships! Incredibly, to add an even greater display of authority over the moment, Short had Lieutenant Putland, who had earlier been transferred to Porpoise, direct the cannons to fire. Fortunately, common sense eventually prevailed and the third shot wasn’t called for. All that this showdown achieved was an even greater level of animosity between Bligh and Short, as neither would retreat from their position.

‘Putland can scarcely speak from agitation upon the subject of the shots which were fired at us, the day before yesterday,’ wrote Mary to her mother. ‘Captain Short had the brutality to make him fire them; [that is, he was officer of the watch] and told him to prepare a third, for if we did not bear down immediately, he was to fire right into us. I think such an inhuman thing as making a man fire at his father [in law] and wife was never done before.’

Bligh’s pen vented his anger with Short: ‘A wicked and most violent man … the most irritating and insulting person.’ Bligh and Short never reconciled. Bligh later ordered him back to England in 1807 to face court martial. He was acquitted but ruined.

After stopping in Cape Town for a brief period, Porpoise, Lady Madeleine Sinclair and the other ships in the convoy endured a rugged but safe fifty-one-day downwind passage across the wild and wintery waters of the Southern Ocean and through the Roaring Forties until they reached the southern tip of Van Diemen’s Land. Here they turned north and adopted a course that would see them sail up the coast of New South Wales.

On 6 August 1806, the impressively bold and vertical sandstone headlands that stand as protectors to the entrance to Port Jackson hailed into view on the port bow. Soon after, the ships changed course to the west and entered the magnificent deepwater harbour which had been noted and named by Captain Cook when he sailed north from Botany Bay in 1770. Once inside the harbour the wind was against them for the course they needed to sail to the south to reach the settlement in Sydney Cove, so the call was to anchor in sheltered water. Forty-eight hours later Lady Madeleine Sinclair had worked her way on the wind and tide up harbour and anchored off Sydney Town.

From the deck of the ship Bligh and his daughter could only have looked at their new home town with an element of disbelief: dusty, makeshift and somewhat uninviting. Banks, however, knew that Bligh, a man of distinction, conviction and great inner strength, was up to the challenge.

Bligh, a master mariner then aged fifty-two, had achieved and experienced more than most of his contemporaries in the Royal Navy. He knew it was a great honour to have been chosen from naval ranks to be governor of New South Wales. What he didn’t know was that this small colony would present him with a challenge as big as any he had ever faced on the high seas.