Port Arthur Con't

Isle of the Dead is Port Arthur’s cemetery. It’s a very small island, divided so that convicts, lunatics, and paupers were laid to rest on the lower southern side while military and ‘respectable’ people were buried on the higher northern end. The island is reached by a short boat trip with commentary. My tour guide on the island said that the guides like giving the Isle of the Dead tour because they get a chance to talk about some of the individual people. I must say that I am usually a fanatical picture-taker. When travelling alone I’m prone to snapping the best self-portrait I can manage with historical or tourist sites in the background. I only took a couple pictures on the Isle of the Dead, however, and none with me. It didn’t seem right, somehow, to have a smiling picture of me in such a somber place. The tour was very informative and sensitive. We got to learn about several individuals, both convict and free. There was one convict who had been transported at 19 for stealing a silk coat that belonged to his father – and his father was the prosecutor! (The prosecutor as the term was used here was the wronged party pursuing legal action, not the lawyer.) We don’t know if this was a case of borrowing Dad’s clothes or something more serious, or if the father knew his son could end up on the other side of the world. However, when this man died at age 32 he had one of the nicer grave markers. (They don’t used the term “headstones” because they can’t be sure they are actually over the heads.) Few convicts had anything to mark their graves, which wasn’t even allowed until 1853. At the bottom of this marker, however, is chiseled “T. Pickering.” Thomas Pickering was a convict stonemason, and he’d been friends with the deceased man for eight years. He didn’t usually sign his work, either. It’s an interesting story of how friendships could be formed under the harsh conditions. I found it rather heartwarming to hear of this story, because Port Arthur was most often a place of broken men, broken hearts, and broken spirits.

Point Puer (Latin for “youth” or “boy”) juts out and nearly touches the Isle of the Dead. It’s a hugely significant site because it was the first juvenile detention center in the British Empire (and possibly the world, we were told). Many youths were getting into trouble and being transported; the age at which you were legally responsible for your actions was 7. Lieutenant Governor George Arthur decided that it might be a better idea to have a separate place for children, away from the hardened adult criminals. In 15 years some 3,000 boys were at Point Puer, most of them between the ages of 14 and 17 but some as young as 9. (Girls weren’t sent to Point Puer; the female convict system was distinct.) This was really forward-thinking for the time. So much so, in fact, that the British copied the idea at home and stopped transporting youth altogether. This made Point Puer unnecessary, so it closed in 1849. Also forward-thinking was Commandant Booth, the man in charge of Port Arthur when Point Puer opened. He insisted on giving the boys full rations. Generally at the time men would get one ration, women half a ration, and children even less. Anyone who has ever seen a teenage boy eat knows that this really doesn’t make any sense! Booth also allowed for a small bit of free time, albeit heavily regulated, in the morning and evening. In between, the boys worked hard.

However hard the work, the focus at Point Puer was on reform. Therefore the boys were taught basic reading, writing, and arithmetic. Although the effectiveness of this has been questioned, I suspect it varied based on each boy. They were also provided with religious instruction, which at that time was strictly Christian, and about half of the boys learned a trade under the supervision of a tradesman. Since Point Puer couldn’t accommodate teaching all the boys a trade, they all started out doing hard labor (clearing trees, tilling soil, etc.) and those who made a favorable impression with their attitude and actions were given the opportunity to learn a skilled trade. This would allow them to be productive citizens once they were free; ideally this would be a win-win situation for the colony and the boys. Trades taught included tailoring, stonecutting, carpentry, shoe-making, coopering, and nail-making.

Sadly, there is very little left at Point Puer. After its closure the buildings were demolished and useful material was brought across the harbor to the main settlement. We saw the wall, which is all that remains of the sawmill, and some foundations. Our guide helped bring it to life by tracing the experiences of three boys. Of particular note were a couple of curving stones left in the foundation of the trades area. They were carved by inexperienced boys but the work was very admirable.

A stunning example of the boys’ workmanship is Port Arthur’s church. It was built by convicts in the 1830s using stones and bricks. The stones were shaped by Point Puer boys. While fire ravaged the inside (consuming, among other things, pews that were also the work of Point Puer boys), the walls are in excellent condition. This is an imposing neo-Gothic church with a front that resembles a castle, a complex shape that bends in at the back before flaring out, and an enormous arched window in the back. Inside, the empty space produces a bit of an echo, magnifying the volume of spoken words. Since the church was built up a small hill, it has a lovely view out the thin arched windows. Inside the rather small but magnificent church was one of those places that feels special, when I become calm and somber, a bit awestruck and a great deal contemplative.

It was hard to tear myself away from the lovely church, but there was more to see. I had yet to look at the Separate Prison. Once there, I decided it was the most chilling part of Port Arthur. The Separate Prison was built to try a new prison reform idea: sensory deprivation. For twenty-three hours a day, men were locked in a tiny cell with only a small window above their heads. The thick walls prevented talking with their neighbors, and there was nothing to do. For one hour a day, they were allowed to walk around, but even this was done with their head covered except the eyes. At Port Arthur this was used for the prisoners that were continuous offenders and considered incorrigible.

This sounds horrific, and it was. The cells were very small and dark. It’s no wonder that so many men went insane. However, I understand that the prison reformers were trying to do a good thing. It was unpleasant to be whipped and work in chain gangs while on minimal food rations and in thin clothing, so the reformers sought what seemed to be a more humane alternative. The idea was that this time alone would give the men an opportunity to reflect on their sins and change their ways. Problematically, this had already failed in England before the Separate Prison at Port Arthur was completed, and therein lies the biggest problem to my mind.

It was easy to understand how men went insane, and after leaving the Separate Prison I took a few minutes to savor the fact that I am alive, and free. I stopped to watch the charming green rosellas flit around the lawn, chirping their bird songs. I admired a heron standing stoically in Settlement Creek, the stream that was crucial to Port Arthur. After all, a key way that we process information is to empathize with it. The Separate Prison left me needing a few moments to center myself in the present and achieve just a bit of detachment, a reminder that this horror was not my own to experience.

The Penitentiary was a less emotional building for me to visit. It’s enormous and dominates the cluster of buildings it sits in. (The church is on the other side, a short walk away.) Originally it was built as a flour mill. Here Linus Miller, one of the Americans I’m researching who was sent to Port Arthur for absconding (running away), had to “tread the wheel.” As there was not often enough water to run the mill, convicts would turn it by walking up steps endlessly. This was tiring, of course, but they had to be careful not to miss a step. The wheel would keep going, making missing a step very dangerous. Concentration was therefore also required, but the task was so tedious it’s only natural for minds to wander. Convicts hated treading the wheel. Fortunately for them, the mill experiment only lasted a few years. The soil around Port Arthur isn’t very good, and authorities were already bringing in the grain by ship; eventually it occurred to them that they might as well just bring the grain already ground into flour. Thereafter the mill was given an addition and turned into a place to house convicts. In the 1890s the Penitentiary burned in a bushfire and then slowly collapsed. Part of the front wall has been rebuilt, although you can’t really tell just looking at it. A staircase has been built inside, which gives visitors the chance to climb up and look at the huge building with its internal walls stretching out below them. The Penitentiary was a four-story building, and as odd as it may sound I suspect it may look even more impressive than if it was in pristine condition. There’s something about being able to look down from the staircase and see from one end to the other inside the building that is fascinating.

Six of the Americans I’m studying were sent to Port Arthur, all for absconding. From Linus Miller’s memoir we know that he and another American man left their work party to see if it would be possible to get passage away from Van Diemens’ Land for the entire work party. They hoped to find sympathetic American whalers who would smuggle them out. Alas, it wasn’t to be. However, not many convicts wrote memoirs and fewer still wrote memoirs of Port Arthur. Miller’s account is used by the Port Arthur administrators and is a valuable resource.

In the end, “fascinating” is a perfect word to describe Port Arthur.

Port Arthur

Before I can describe Port Arthur, I need to outline a bit of history. Industrialization in Great Britain resulted in increased crime for multiple reasons. As farms consolidated and less agricultural jobs were available, people crowded into growing cities looking for work. Even if they could find work the wages were very low. Some people resorted to stealing to eat; others turned to alcohol and opium to numb the misery of their lives. With jails jam-packed, the British transported criminals to their American colonies, relieving the pressure on jails while providing labor in America. Of course, that ended with the American Revolution, and the British had to look elsewhere. Meanwhile, industrialization picked up its pace and the jails were getting so full that convicts were kept in old unseaworthy ships in the River Thames.

Australia was strategically located in the Pacific relatively near Britain’s prized colonial possession, India, and there were high hopes for some Australian natural resources, so in 1788 the British founded Sydney as a prison colony. In 1803 Van Diemen’s Land (today known as Tasmania) was founded as a place to send convicts who reoffended.

Now we jump ahead in this whirlwind history to 1833, when a small timber station on a peninsula in southeastern Van Diemen’s Land came to the attention of the Lieutenant Governor, George Arthur. He needed a place to send convicts who continued to commit crimes. The last one, Macquarie Harbor on the west coast, had closed because it was too hard to get to and an unacceptable amount of ships were being lost. Also, convicts escaped too easily.

This small timber station had neither of those problems. If the weather was favorable, it was only an 8 to 10 hour journey from the capital, Hobart, by sea. The peninsula was almost completely surrounded by water; there was only a tiny strip of land to guard. Some convicts might try to escape by sea, but sharks frequented the area, providing a natural deterrent. (Also deterring sea escapes was the fact that in this time period, despite building an empire based on the strength of their navy, the British tended not to be very good swimmers. As one of the Port Arthur tour guides observed, “They spent so much time on the water but they were never in it.”)

Lieutenant Governor Arthur decided to name this new convict station Port Arthur, after himself. In addition to armed guards, a line of dogs was chained across Eaglehawk Neck, the only way out by land, and a few were put out on rafts in the water. Since Port Arthur was where male repeat offenders were sent, there wasn’t an emphasis on reform; the focus was squarely on punishment. The men were worked extremely hard. There were also heavy chains, whippings and solitary confinement on bread and water rations for further punishment.

First the men had to build barracks, then other buildings as needed. Industry was also important, as Port Arthur was ideally going to pay for itself. Timber was a large industry. The large trees around Port Arthur were chopped down by convicts, and then hauled on the shoulders of the men to be cut into useful timber. (Occasionally a tree-felling accident would kill one of the men.) What wasn’t used at Port Arthur was sent to Hobart where the government could use it. Convicts also cut the soft sandstone around Port Arthur and made bricks; these were used to make more sturdy buildings on the site.

With timber all around, a nice deep harbor, and free labor, it made sense to start a dockyard. This opened in 1834, repairing and building ships. While the work was hard – men often spent most of the day partially in the water – it was also considered a promotion because it gave the men a little more control over their lives and also a useful skill. The boats made at Port Arthur were considered as good as any made elsewhere. However, those other boat makers complained about the Port Arthur dockyard, as they found it hard to compete with a place where the workers didn’t have to be paid. As transportation began to decline there was less labor in any case, and the dockyard closed in 1848, although repairs were still made. Before closing, the convicts made 16 large ships and over 150 smaller open boats. You can still see the largest slip from which the ships were launched, although in my opinion it’s sullied by a strange twisting metal “artist’s interpretation of a ship.” That sculpture is my one quibble at Port Arthur; I am firmly against sticking post-modern artistic interpretations in the middle of genuine historic sites.

The last convicts were transported to Tasmania in 1853, and Port Arthur closed in 1877. It was parceled out and sold. Since Port Arthur had all sorts of unpleasant connotations, the inhabitants changed the town’s name to Carnarvon, after the then-current Secretary of State for the Colonies. The site was left to fall apart, although tours were soon operating, bringing curious tourists to see the infamous Port Arthur. Souvenirs were taken by many visitors, as one might expect. Recognizing the importance of the site, the government began buying it back in the 1920s, a process that took until 1949, and the name was changed back to Port Arthur.

Meanwhile, most of the buildings were no more than ruins. This appealed to late Victorians, who loved a good ruin but had few around them in Australia. A few of the structures, especially the military barracks, had been demolished and the bricks sold off. The decay was further aided by a series of fires. The first gutted the church; it started when local residents tried to burn some leaves and the fire got out of control. Then in 1895 and 1897 bushfires further ravaged most of the other buildings.

I spent the better part of two days at Port Arthur before doing research in their Resource Room on the few Americans who were sent there. It is truly an incredible place, and I think the Port Arthur Historic Site Management Authority is to be commended for their excellent work in presenting a difficult and complex subject with sensitivity and without descending into playacting for tourists.

Port Arthur offers different tour packages which include various extras. I never considered anything but the Gold Experience ticket which included everything: an introductory walking tour, the audio tour (sadly, I didn’t get to finish it because my battery died and there were no more units left, but this was informative and, I thought, well-done), a tour of Isle of the Dead, a tour of Point Puer, plus vouchers for morning tea, lunch, and afternoon tea. I was extremely glad I got that package.

To be continued…