Part 4 (1/2)

More Sinned Against Than Sinning Birds of a Feather.

The stormy heavens exploded in driving rain and spectacular lightning displays over Sullivans Cove. Bl.u.s.tering westerly winds pelted hailstones across the Westmoreland Westmoreland's wooden deck. Surgeon Superintendent Ellis ordered all the prisoners belowdecks. If this was supposed to be summer, Agnes couldn't begin to fathom what winter might bring. The Hobart Town Courier Hobart Town Courier recorded weather so awful in December 1836 that migrating birds failed to stop on the island: ”The unusual inclemency of the present season is doubtless the cause of this phenomenon. No inhabitant of the island has any recollection of so long a continuance of cold fluctuating weather, which appears to have affected many other objects of nature besides the swallows, the absence of which our correspondent has so well remarked.” recorded weather so awful in December 1836 that migrating birds failed to stop on the island: ”The unusual inclemency of the present season is doubtless the cause of this phenomenon. No inhabitant of the island has any recollection of so long a continuance of cold fluctuating weather, which appears to have affected many other objects of nature besides the swallows, the absence of which our correspondent has so well remarked.”1 Even the raucous yellow-tailed black c.o.c.katoos avoided Van Diemen's Land the year Agnes arrived. Even the raucous yellow-tailed black c.o.c.katoos avoided Van Diemen's Land the year Agnes arrived.

The Westmoreland Westmoreland anch.o.r.ed off Hunter Island in the River Derwent. Mr. Ellis was immediately rowed ash.o.r.e to meet with local officials and turn over his now-dog-eared leather ledger along with court records for each prisoner. Because it was Sat.u.r.day and government offices were closed on Sunday, the transfer of paperwork would take four full days. The gravely ill couldn't wait that long and were moved to the Hobart Town Colonial Hospital. anch.o.r.ed off Hunter Island in the River Derwent. Mr. Ellis was immediately rowed ash.o.r.e to meet with local officials and turn over his now-dog-eared leather ledger along with court records for each prisoner. Because it was Sat.u.r.day and government offices were closed on Sunday, the transfer of paperwork would take four full days. The gravely ill couldn't wait that long and were moved to the Hobart Town Colonial Hospital.

Seventeen-year-old Jane Thompson, who'd spent most of the sea journey inside the Westmoreland Westmoreland's infirmary, was lowered into the waiting skiff lashed to a stretcher. After being transported around the world, she died seven days later in a ward full of strangers. Sarah Robinson was also sent to the hospital, suffering from complications after giving birth to her baby girl in the water closet a few weeks earlier. Mary Ring and Sarah Slow, both in the final stages of pregnancy, found comfort in the prospect of giving birth on dry land.2 Quarantined in limbo on the orlop deck, Agnes and Janet lay in their berths, not daring to contemplate where they'd sleep next. At the unexpected hour of six A.M., shouting blasted from the forecastle. ”Rouse out there! Turn out! Turn out! Huzzah for the sh.o.r.e!” screamed the Officer of the Guard.3 A drowsy Agnes opened her eyes and sat up with a start. She grabbed the little burlap bag given her by Mrs. Fry and tied it tight to protect her small comb and a few stray pieces of colored thread. The remnants of her Bible had turned grey and mildewed, so she left it on the straw mattress and headed under the hatch toward the main deck. A drowsy Agnes opened her eyes and sat up with a start. She grabbed the little burlap bag given her by Mrs. Fry and tied it tight to protect her small comb and a few stray pieces of colored thread. The remnants of her Bible had turned grey and mildewed, so she left it on the straw mattress and headed under the hatch toward the main deck.

It was Tuesday the sixth of December, and Captain Brigstock awaited the arrival of Josiah Spode, Princ.i.p.al Superintendent of Convicts. He arrived accompanied by Muster Master William Thomas Napier Champ, a British soldier previously charged with the government mission to hunt down Aborigines. The two stern men were rowed from Hobart Town to the Westmoreland Westmoreland by male convicts who'd been conscripted into the police force because of a shortage of both funding and able men. by male convicts who'd been conscripted into the police force because of a shortage of both funding and able men.

Spode, now a naval officer, had once worked in his grandfather's famous pottery business in England. He had little tolerance for the women, deeming them ”worse in every respect to manage than male convicts. . . . They all feel they are working under compulsion which renders it almost a continual warfare between their employers and themselves.”4 Champ, who later became the first premier of Tasmania, was the record keeper for all convicts and also served as a.s.sistant police magistrate in Hobart Town. Champ, who later became the first premier of Tasmania, was the record keeper for all convicts and also served as a.s.sistant police magistrate in Hobart Town.

Called in numerical order, Agnes and Janet were hurried on deck for inspection. Eyeing the grey-eyed la.s.s up and down, Muster Master Champ compared the surgeon superintendent's descriptions against the sixteen-year-old standing before him. As he evaluated Agnes's health and ability to work, Champ considered her skills for a.s.signment to a local colonist. Agnes confirmed that she could neither read nor write. According to indent records, when Muster Master Champ asked, ”What is your trade?” she responded, ”House servant.”5 Janet gave the same answer when it was her turn. Janet gave the same answer when it was her turn.

It took nearly two days to examine and interview the prisoners. Neither Mr. Spode nor Mr. Champ wanted to be blamed for disembarking contagiously ill transports. The whole colony had recently suffered from an outbreak of influenza, probably carried by a s.h.i.+p's pa.s.senger from London.6 After consulting with Surgeon Superintendent Ellis, the two bureaucrats finally cleared his charges for landing. The women and their children were rowed ash.o.r.e to Hunter Island and walked over a muddy convict-built causeway, connecting the isle to Hobart Town. The girls from Glasgow finally heard the annoying toll of the After consulting with Surgeon Superintendent Ellis, the two bureaucrats finally cleared his charges for landing. The women and their children were rowed ash.o.r.e to Hunter Island and walked over a muddy convict-built causeway, connecting the isle to Hobart Town. The girls from Glasgow finally heard the annoying toll of the Westmoreland Westmoreland bells for the last time. Catcalls from the wharf soon replaced the harsh clanging from the s.h.i.+p. A crowd of scruffy-looking creatures raced toward the waterfront to inspect the Crown's latest chattel. bells for the last time. Catcalls from the wharf soon replaced the harsh clanging from the s.h.i.+p. A crowd of scruffy-looking creatures raced toward the waterfront to inspect the Crown's latest chattel.

While the Westmoreland Westmoreland lay at anchor, Agnes had taken a good look at where she was headed. The busy little port of fourteen thousand sat on the river below soft green hills that lay dominated by the cliffs of an enormous mountain. The strangest creatures Agnes had ever seen bounced over the slopes on their huge hind legs and disappeared into the lush countryside. Black swans with bright red beaks floated at river's edge. Seagulls flying overhead appeared like the ones seen in the British Isles, but their calls were sharply different. lay at anchor, Agnes had taken a good look at where she was headed. The busy little port of fourteen thousand sat on the river below soft green hills that lay dominated by the cliffs of an enormous mountain. The strangest creatures Agnes had ever seen bounced over the slopes on their huge hind legs and disappeared into the lush countryside. Black swans with bright red beaks floated at river's edge. Seagulls flying overhead appeared like the ones seen in the British Isles, but their calls were sharply different.7 Everything, even the scavenger birds, seemed topsy-turvy. Everything, even the scavenger birds, seemed topsy-turvy.

Journalist Minister John West offers a clue about how Agnes felt on the day she set foot on the other side of the earth. Eleven years her senior, he lived in Tasmania in 1836 and wrote about the convicts who were among the first transported: ”The letters they addressed to their friends . . . were filled with lamentations. They deeply deplored that the distance of their exile cut off the hope of return . . . they expected to be destroyed by savages, or to pine away in want. The females seemed least to fear their banishment; and while several of the men were deeply moved, a spectator, who curiously remarked the mental influence of their prospects, saw only one woman weep.”8 Convict men outnumbered the female prisoners by nearly nine to one, creating an imbalance of uncivilized proportions. The arrival of a boatload of women quickly drew most Hobart Town men toward the wharves. ”All kinds of men, except apparently decent ones, would gather round the waterfront and form an almost impossible mob, through which the girls had to make their way, the while insults, lewd suggestions, and all kind of horrible offers were hurled at them to the intense amus.e.m.e.nt of the crowd and the horror of those who were good among the girls. . . .”9 These days, men queued up at the quayside were still rambunctious, but less barbaric than in the early days of transport, when a man could buy a bonnie la.s.s right on the spot in exchange for a bottle of rum. During the first twenty years of transport, female prisoners were left to fend for themselves. If a settler didn't choose a woman, she was forced to find lodging on her own.10 ”There was little delicacy of choice: they landed, and vanished; and some carried into the bush, changed their destination before they reached their homes.” ”There was little delicacy of choice: they landed, and vanished; and some carried into the bush, changed their destination before they reached their homes.”11 Fortunately, the two Scottish birds in forced exile arrived as a pair. Janet held tight to her friend's hand, and they both looked straight ahead, ignoring the screaming men who waved hats in their faces. Back on solid ground for the first time in 117 days, Agnes's not-so-steady land legs took their first rubbery steps onto the sh.o.r.es of Van Diemen's Land. A contingent of soldiers, dressed in scarlet uniforms, stood stiffly as Muster Master Champ directed the girls to wait for the next group. Under his watchful gaze, Agnes smelled the mud flats and took in the ramshackle riverfront wooden cottages and stone watermills, which created little waterfalls as they turned.12 Wharfside pubs filled with sailors, a bond store, and warehouses for importers and exporters signaled the importance of this s.h.i.+pping port. The Wharfside pubs filled with sailors, a bond store, and warehouses for importers and exporters signaled the importance of this s.h.i.+pping port. The Westmoreland Westmoreland's cargo was bound for a warehouse of a different sort, a fortress known as the Cascades Female Factory.

Like livestock on the way to market, the 182 women and 18 children were paraded up Macquarie Street from the turn at the Old Wharf. Several women, in various stages of pregnancy, lumbered up the muddy hill a bit slower than the rest. Lagging as far behind as the soldiers allowed was Anne Sergeantson, the red-haired nursemaid who'd lost her six-day-old infant a few weeks earlier.

When clouds thundered down the valley and let loose a drenching rain, the leering welcome party began to disperse. The s.h.i.+ft given to Agnes by Mrs. Fry's volunteers in Newgate had worn quite thin, and she s.h.i.+vered under the soaking onslaught. Giant leafy ferns trembled in the wind gusts, like another group of mocking spectators along the route.

The well-guarded entourage marched past Government House, the courthouse, and St. David's Church. The stucco and painted brick cathedral was crowned by a black lead-covered dome known as the ”pepper pot.” When the pepper pot's three-faced clock chimed the hour, it resounded all across the valley.13 If Agnes thought she had heard the last of ringing bells, she was sadly mistaken. If Agnes thought she had heard the last of ringing bells, she was sadly mistaken.

St. David's was one of several churches where settlers, soldiers, and convicts gathered Sunday morning, the prisoners seated separately. Sometimes blurred but never forgotten, lines of cla.s.s distinction followed Agnes to Van Diemen's Land. Few settlers could avoid mingling with the transports who kept the economy afloat, but the ”convicts sometimes appeared like a pariah caste rather than a lower cla.s.s.”14 Under his scruffy hair and unkempt beard, Muster Master Champ sat proudly in a front pew. Slayer of Aborigines in the Black War, the future premier condemned the petty thieves, who were more sinned against than sinning. Under his scruffy hair and unkempt beard, Muster Master Champ sat proudly in a front pew. Slayer of Aborigines in the Black War, the future premier condemned the petty thieves, who were more sinned against than sinning.

An 1838 Report from the Select Committee of the House of Commons on Transportation summarized the welcome extended for Agnes and Janet: ”For want of servants a settler must apply to Government for convicts. He then becomes a slave-owner, not like the planters of the West Indies, or of the southern states of America, whose slaves, if not by nature, by education in bondage at least, are an inferior race, and having from youth been ignorant of freedom, consider it almost an honour to serve the white. On the other hand, the Australian settler has a property in men of his own race, hardened, desperate, and profligate ruffians, who have been nurtured in vice and crime, and have given way to the vilest pa.s.sions.”15 Conditions were even worse before Cascades opened. Women were imprisoned in an overcrowded holding area tacked onto the Hobart Town male prison and overlooking the execution yard, loosely guarded by male convicts; ”trafficking,” or contact with the outside world, was all too easy. In 1827, a concerned citizen wrote a letter to the local paper expressing his consternation over the ”immorality of the lower cla.s.s of people in Van Diemen's Land.” He offered the following details: ”I remember one night walking by the building . . . at the time the females were confined there; when I saw the place surrounded by many fellows, who were feeing the constables and sentries to gain admission, while language and imprecations the most disgusting and appalling issued from within. The next day I mentioned the circ.u.mstances to several persons, who said it was useless to kick up a stir about it, for no notice would be taken of it.”16 As the demand for female servants grew and transport numbers rose, Lieutenant Governor Arthur responded in December 1828 by opening a new gaol in a converted rum distillery well outside the town. It was christened the Cascades Female Factory, belying its true purpose. Five years prior, Elizabeth Fry had approached Britain's Under Secretary of State for the Colonies with recommendations that he pa.s.sed on to the governor. Her ideas for prison reform included specific plans for a new women's gaol, and Governor Arthur adopted most of them. Once again, the timely intervention of the Angel of Newgate saved Agnes, Janet, and many others from a fate even worse than the frightening scene they now faced.

In 1830, the gaoled women had witnessed the hanging of Mary McLauchlan, who had been transported from Glasgow for theft by housebreaking. Forced to leave her husband and two young daughters behind, she found herself pregnant by a man in Hobart Town who refused to recognize his paternity. As was often the case for convict maids with child, the father was likely her master. The baby either was stillborn or died soon after birth, and Mary was convicted of killing him. A large crowd gathered to witness the hanging of the woman who wore a white dress tied with a black ribbon.17 Mary McLauchlan was the first woman executed in Van Diemen's Land. Mary McLauchlan was the first woman executed in Van Diemen's Land.

Agnes stared at the tall gaol barricade along Macquarie Street, a monument of the penal colony's history and the first transport of three women in 1803. By the year the Westmoreland Westmoreland disembarked, public spectacles in Hobart Town were less gruesome. Freed convicts and settlers who were arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct spent a few hours in the town stocks, located prominently in front of the Macquarie Street Treasury. Female prisoners who acted out were punished away from town, unseen behind the thick stone walls of Cascades. disembarked, public spectacles in Hobart Town were less gruesome. Freed convicts and settlers who were arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct spent a few hours in the town stocks, located prominently in front of the Macquarie Street Treasury. Female prisoners who acted out were punished away from town, unseen behind the thick stone walls of Cascades.

Well-to-do settlers, getting rich on whale oil and wool, resented both convicts and the Crown. A year before Agnes landed, many signed a pet.i.tion to His Majesty requesting the removal of ”unspeakable evils”: ”We, the undersigned, feeling that the measures adopted by the British Government, of increasing the penal character of the Colony . . . affix a moral degradation upon us, and our children . . . request you will convene a Public Meeting of the Colonists, for the purpose of addressing the King thereon.”18 Reminders of the Crown's rule were everywhere on display. British soldiers, pressing muskets against their shoulders, guarded government buildings constructed in soft-brown sandstone and built by the hands of male convicts. Sentries posted at the gates outside George's Square stood locked at attention under leather shako hats topped with white woolen pom-poms, utterly impractical under the driving rain.19 Scarlet-coated soldiers even guarded a makes.h.i.+ft zoo located behind the governor's mansion, lest the island's wildlife forget who was in charge of Van Die-men's Land. As the prisoner's parade filed past the governor's mansion, wild creatures on exhibit in the old paddock came into view. Emus strutted about, standing six feet high on spindly legs and swathed in swirls of soft brown feathers. Agnes looked across the street in amazement at the huge gawky birds and brown-eyed wallabies. If the island's chickens and rats were this big, what else might be wandering the forests? Scarlet-coated soldiers even guarded a makes.h.i.+ft zoo located behind the governor's mansion, lest the island's wildlife forget who was in charge of Van Die-men's Land. As the prisoner's parade filed past the governor's mansion, wild creatures on exhibit in the old paddock came into view. Emus strutted about, standing six feet high on spindly legs and swathed in swirls of soft brown feathers. Agnes looked across the street in amazement at the huge gawky birds and brown-eyed wallabies. If the island's chickens and rats were this big, what else might be wandering the forests?

The soldier in charge of the human prisoners tolerated not a moment of dawdling. The group of two hundred transports still had a two-mile march uphill before they reached the Female Factory. Agnes and Janet followed a muddy path toward the towering mountain, whose highest elevations were hidden under cloud cover. Shopkeepers leaned out their doorsills to inspect the latest s.h.i.+pment of new maids and helpers. Tucked behind white picket fences, neatly kept brick cottages lined upper Macquarie Street. Summer gardens were lush with raspberries, scarlet geraniums, and the rosy pink blossoms of sweetbriar plants. Ripe apricots and nectarines hung temptingly close along the track.20 The new and distinctive scent of eucalyptus wafted through a valley thick with trees bearing the bluish-green leaves. Here Agnes saw shades of green she had never seen in Scotland. Even the air smelled green. The new and distinctive scent of eucalyptus wafted through a valley thick with trees bearing the bluish-green leaves. Here Agnes saw shades of green she had never seen in Scotland. Even the air smelled green.

Agnes's knees were still shaky from months of walking unsteadily across the s.h.i.+p's rocking decks. As the bedraggled prisoner approached the Hobart Rivulet, the steady incline grew steeper, and her legs started to ache. The sounds of running water and birds in the bush intermingled with the tramping of feet as her troop made its way along the bank of the tiny river. On the outskirts of town, scattered wooden shanties teetered along the water's edge. Entrepreneurial settlers built breweries and sawmills next to the rivulet. Rats scurrying through the muddy gully were one of the few familiar reminders of home.

The stream meandered up the valley to the base of the cliff. Gradually the weather cleared, and the features of the summit came into view. The soldiers called it Mt. Wellington, named to reinforce Britain's claim on the island after the Duke of Wellington defeated Napoleon at Waterloo. It replaced the Aboriginal names-Unghbanyahletta and Poorawetter-given to the mountain layered in dense green forests and rising more than four thousand feet.21 Beneath this towering giant, Agnes s.h.i.+vered as the temperature dropped some ten degrees in the secluded hollow where her group was headed. After nearly an hour of stomping through the mud, a two-story stone fortress revealed itself at the soggy base of Mt. Wellington. Tucked away two miles beyond town, the prison lay hidden from the rising middle-cla.s.s gentry. The building now used for the Cascades Female Factory began as a rum distillery and was hardly suited to house women and children. Raw sewage drained into the rivulet running next to the prison. Foothills cast long shadows over the inst.i.tution, rendering it nearly sunless much of the year and damply cold in every season.

The largest of five female factories in Van Diemen's Land, Cascades opened in 1828. Agnes and Janet waited outside a large wooden gate secured shut with heavy irons. From behind the guard wall, which was at least twice Agnes's height, they heard the sounds of chopping wood and clanging pots bouncing off the face of the valley.22 As the rest of the tired troop caught up, red-coated soldiers nodded to the constable on duty and lined up the women and children in double file at the yard's entrance. Stone barricades inside stone walls reinforced the austere greeting that awaited them. Walking under the tunneled entrance, not knowing if they would be separated, Agnes allowed her hand a brush against Janet's. As the rest of the tired troop caught up, red-coated soldiers nodded to the constable on duty and lined up the women and children in double file at the yard's entrance. Stone barricades inside stone walls reinforced the austere greeting that awaited them. Walking under the tunneled entrance, not knowing if they would be separated, Agnes allowed her hand a brush against Janet's.

At the soldier's command, a gatekeeper unlatched the weighty entrance door. Unlike the boisterous clamor inside London's Newgate Prison, the compound seemed eerily devoid of human voices. A rather imposing figure hurried toward the transports. White bonnet tied in a crisp bow under her wide chin, Matron Mary Hutchinson curtsied and greeted the British officers. A bundle of efficiency at twenty-six, she knew the factory system well, having grown up inside Sydney's Parramatta Female Factory, run by her father. She was the no-nonsense woman in charge, heavy black dress b.u.t.toned tight to the neck. Shuffling behind was her husband, John, with his gaunt face, high cheekbones, and scraggly little whiskers hanging over his neck.

John Hutchinson, a Methodist minister, was seventeen years her senior. He was named superintendent in 1832, but Mary essentially ran Cascades, particularly when her husband's health began to fail. Elizabeth Cato, who had arrived in 1831, a.s.sisted the Hutchinsons as deputy matron and midwife. Her husband, William, served as prison overseer.

The officer in charge of the soldiers observed the brief formality of handing over the women and children in his possession. Superintendent Hutchinson, an efficient bureaucrat, had already organized the conduct records and physical description for each prisoner. A porter opened a small, heavily reinforced door and led the weary transports into a paved yard. Agnes and Janet scanned the enclosure, filled with women busy at work but mum as mutes. They would soon learn the reason for silence. No one spoke, but their eyes told many stories. The two Glasgow la.s.ses stared at the women in dingy uniforms coughing and running their tongues over sore gums and missing teeth. Surely they couldn't have looked this bad upon arrival.

Gradually, Agnes moved to the front of the line for processing. Surgeon Superintendent Ellis had cla.s.sified the grey-eyed la.s.s as a troublemaker. She and Janet were listed as accomplices in crime, so Mr. Hutchinson considered it his duty to separate the pair immediately.

Clothes Don't Make the Woman.

a.s.sistant Matron Cato brought one girl at a time into a small reception room, where Mrs. Hutchinson stood next to a tall stack of ugly dresses. Hairstyling was not allowed at the Female Factory, so Agnes was forced to hand over the comb Mrs. Fry had tucked inside her st.u.r.dy burlap bag. Mrs. Cato told Agnes she would put it in storage for safekeeping and gave her a nudge toward the washtub. Every prisoner was required to disrobe and bathe upon arrival.

Splas.h.i.+ng the cold water over herself was a shock, though Agnes experienced some relief in removing salt and dirt acc.u.mulated from nearly four months aboard the Westmoreland Westmoreland. Most clothing worn at sea was beyond repair and thrown in a pile for burning. After checking Agnes's head for lice, Mrs. Hutchinson issued the prison uniform, sewn from low-grade wool and chosen for its coa.r.s.eness. It would be a constant reminder of the transgressions that brought the grey-eyed rebel to Van Diemen's Land. Pulling the wool s.h.i.+ft over her head, Agnes recalled many unpleasant memories of the days spent in Mr. Green's Glasgow mill. The fabric was scratchy and the s.h.i.+ft had no shape, but at least it was clean. New stockings were a pleasant surprise and, in spite of everything else, felt refres.h.i.+ng on her feet. Agnes received the remainder of the unfas.h.i.+onably dreary wardrobe for her seven-year sentence: a second s.h.i.+ft for when she washed the first, two ap.r.o.ns, two caps, two handkerchiefs for her monthly flow, and a second pair of stockings.

Convict dress was meant to be a marker for the wearer, a warning that she was an untrustworthy outcast. The clothes Agnes and Janet wore were so unbecoming as to elicit derision from the highly decorated Colonel Mundy when he visited the Female Factory. After an initial observation that the prisoners appeared deaf and dumb performing their work in silence, he added: ”there must be a good deal in dress as an element of beauty-for I scarcely saw a tolerably pretty woman.”23 Ugly attire in tow, Agnes held on to her familiar brown boots now stiffened with salt from the sea, the last remnants of her life in the Glasgow wynds. Officially a member of the a.s.signment Cla.s.s, one of three Cascades ranks based on conduct, she joined a group of twelve. Bad behavior carried punishment in the Crime Cla.s.s, followed by a sentence in Probation Cla.s.s for those whose conduct improved, and finally return to the rank from which prisoners were a.s.signed to settlers.

Janet underwent the same processing as Agnes, but the Hutchinsons directed her to a different mess. It was noon, and Mrs. Cato rang the bell for dinner, as the midday meal was called. Straggling at the back of the line, Agnes lifted her eyebrows the moment she caught Janet's eyes. What in the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l have we gotten ourselves into? What in the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l have we gotten ourselves into?

Prisoners rotated the duty of serving the meal to those seated on wooden benches at long tables. The menu remained the same, every day, every week. The two Glasgow la.s.ses sipped their first taste of watery ox-head soup, garnished with a big hunk of brown bread. Prepared without regard for nutritional value, the recipe called for twenty-five pounds of meat for every one hundred quarts of broth. When the ox head wasn't all bone, each girl received about four ounces of gristly protein a day.24 After the meal, Agnes and Janet milled about aimlessly until everyone was bathed and checked off the roster list. With a clap of her hands, Matron Hutchinson corralled the a.s.sembly of newly uniformed women and shushed their restless children. It was time for the first of many lectures by Superintendent Hutchinson. He opened his black leather book to the page inscribed ”Rules and Regulations for the Management of the House of Correction for Females.” Rule Number One: No talking, no laughing, no whistling, no singing. No singing? The ballad crooner was appalled. Even London's Newgate allowed song and conversation.

The governor of Van Diemen's Land from 1824 to 1836, Colonel George Arthur, was a consummate bureaucrat. He wrote the Cascades rules and regulations himself. With military precision he demanded of ”all the Female Convicts on their admission . . . the utmost cleanliness-the greatest quietness-perfect regularity-and entire submission. . . . If these be observed . . . patient industry will appear, and reformation of character must be the result.”25 The rules were printed everywhere, including in the The rules were printed everywhere, including in the Hobart Town Courier Hobart Town Courier because ”so many of our readers having expressed a desire that they should be printed. . . .” because ”so many of our readers having expressed a desire that they should be printed. . . .”26 Yet most of the women at Cascades couldn't read a word. Yet most of the women at Cascades couldn't read a word.

The Female Factory's strict regulations relied on the presumption that if prisoners weren't allowed to converse, disruptions and bad influences could be controlled. What the authorities never antic.i.p.ated was how quickly creative measures arose among women who were told they couldn't talk.

Not surprisingly, Reverend Hutchinson warned the Westmoreland Westmoreland transports about punishments suffered for smoking tobacco and using profanities. When the straight-laced superintendent read the rule that forbade bringing poultry, pigeons, or pigs into Cascades, several of the youngest prisoners let out a giggle. How in the b.l.o.o.d.y blazes could a girl get a pig over the top of these thick stone walls? Their merriment was quickly extinguished when Mrs. Cato hustled over to the troublemakers and hissed a stern warning from behind their shoulders. transports about punishments suffered for smoking tobacco and using profanities. When the straight-laced superintendent read the rule that forbade bringing poultry, pigeons, or pigs into Cascades, several of the youngest prisoners let out a giggle. How in the b.l.o.o.d.y blazes could a girl get a pig over the top of these thick stone walls? Their merriment was quickly extinguished when Mrs. Cato hustled over to the troublemakers and hissed a stern warning from behind their shoulders.

Standing himself a bit taller, Superintendent Hutchinson concluded his monologue with a review of the daily routine, including mandatory chapel attendance twice a day, after breakfast at half past eight and after supper at eight P.M. The little church was designed to double as a school between services and provide s.p.a.ce for quiet study. Although superintendents were supposed to teach prisoners to read, it rarely happened. The reality of managing more than three hundred women and their infants allowed Mr. Hutchinson little time to do anything beyond managing the paperwork it took to run the inst.i.tution. Though Mrs. Fry argued fervently for a school within the female factories, Governor Arthur had largely ignored her recommendation, concentrating instead on bureaucratic details, such as the degree of roughness in the fabric for convict garb.

Indoctrination complete, Agnes and Janet followed the line of two hundred back into the main yard. The twenty-foot-high walls of the Female Factory cast long shadows across the interior yard when the sun dropped behind Mt. Wellington. Light faded quickly in the valley, and the temperature dipped yet again. Time took on another dimension inside the unforgiving fortress encased in double stone walls. The women who had arrived on earlier s.h.i.+ps appeared to move in slow motion, looking more like chalky zombies than industrious workers. For some, Cascades chipped away humanity piece by piece.

At half past seven o'clock, Mrs. Cato clanged the supper bell. It was a repeat of the noontime repast: brown bread and a pint of ox-head soup. At five minutes to eight, the new congregation was ushered into the chapel, lit by two small candles on the altar. Mothers tried in vain to quiet their children until a distraction, entering from the back of the chapel, caught their attention. The Reverend William Bedford had arrived. Fancying himself a regal figure as chaplain for the Female Factory, he strutted by the pews filled with potential converts. His beak of a nose and protruding lower lip grew more prominent as his fire-and-brimstone preaching rose to a crescendo. By the end of the reverend's half-hour rant, Agnes had a stiff neck from trying to hold her head up. At last, it was over.

Mrs. Hutchinson announced the roll call for the night's bed check. Following factory regulations, Mrs. Cato designated an overseer for each mess, choosing one of the older women from the Westmoreland Westmoreland whom Surgeon Superintendent Ellis had reported as ”orderly.” The convict overseer was responsible for the conduct of her eleven peer inmates, a daunting a.s.signment under the best of circ.u.mstances. whom Surgeon Superintendent Ellis had reported as ”orderly.” The convict overseer was responsible for the conduct of her eleven peer inmates, a daunting a.s.signment under the best of circ.u.mstances.27 There was never enough s.p.a.ce to accommodate the rising numbers of transported girls and women. Sleeping rooms were filled to capacity with hammocks slung in tight rows, leaving no room to walk unless the suspended beds were tipped to the side. It took more than a little spontaneous ch.o.r.eography to get four rows of women in place without tipping someone else to the floor. A single chamber pot sat in the far corner and was very difficult to reach in the darkness. Its distant location explained the dreadful stench beneath Agnes's boots. She kept them tied close by and pulled both knees to her chest, trying to get comfortable. From time to time, she could still feel the rhythmic rocking of the s.h.i.+p.