SURGEON OBSERVED

Turnbull Library Record, Volume 6, Issue 1, 1 May 1973, Page 4

SURGEON OBSERVED

Margaret Scott

Shipboard diaries of early voyages to New Zealand are not rare. The Turnbull Library Manuscripts Section has a number of them. On those apparently interminable and usually miserable journeys the keeping of a diary was a natural response to the strangeness and endlessness of it all. The more educated passengers, usually, were the ones who kept diaries, and such an activity on the part of an ordinary, everyday emigrant was likely to be seen by his fellows as a pretentiousness in need of swift excision. On the Lady Nugent, 1840-1, poor Joseph Greenwood was not one of the “Gentlemen Passengers” and although he had paid his fare he associated mainly with the assisted emigrants. He had been keeping his book for only ten days when ‘At breakfast they requested to know if I would allow my Journal (I suppose they meant Log) to be heard; I objected, when Mr [name omitted] told me if I brought it on the Table again he would take & throw it overboard, I am almost inclined to try him, but shall write in my Cabin for the present.’ Greenwood seems to have taken about ten weeks to decide to make use of the thick vellumbound notebook he brought with him, but having begun, and weathered some hostility over it, he kept it up.

On the whole it was just another shipboard diary, not particularly wellwritten or detailed or perceptive. It was only when, late last year, the Library bought the diary of George Hilliard, Surgeon Superintendent on that same voyage, that Greenwood’s acquired an extra dimension. Here is a situation where we can really eavesdrop, where we can be smug in reading one diary in the light of inside information gleaned from the other.

Hilliard’s prose is more literate, lyrical, and expansive than Greenwood’s, which consists largely of flat statements having, nevertheless, the strength of economy in them. Hilliard was self-consciously the responsible surgeon and the perceptive observer of his fellow mortals and of the wonders of nature. His diary begins on the day the ship left London and ends on arrival at Wellington: the conscientious ‘shipboard journal’ he was required, as Surgeon Superintendent, to keep. Greenwood’s begins ten weeks out and continues until the pages run out some six years later: a casual commentary on whatever was making up his life. We are able, then, to have a look at Hilliard before Greenwood joins the company.

Wielding several kinds of authority —he read Sunday services and burial services, stopped rations and indulgences, harangued emigrants and put them in solitary confinement, instructed the Captain as to his nautical course in view of dwindling rations—Hilliard was propped up by a rough and ready class-consciousness which can’t have eased his relations with the emigrants. On Sunday 1 November he ‘read the morning Service in the Cuddy to the Captain officers & Passengers, & one of Mr Bradley’s

beautiful Sermons, on the 5 foolish Virgins “our Lamps are gone out”. Read the afternoon Service to the Emigrants after their dinner & one of Mr Sumner’s excellent plain Sermons on the Ist principles of the Xtn. faith, found them very attentive and orderly.’ The following Sunday he read a sermon in the cuddy (beautiful Bradley again) : “Lord teach us to pray”, and to the emigrants (plain Sumner again) : “The Son of Man is come to seek and to save that which is lost.”

In the meantime things were far from simple for him. By the time Greenwood takes up his pen Hilliard has had to cope with the following situations: shortage of water, putrid water, bad meat, dirty preparation and serving of meals, bickering and fighting, ophthalmia, fever, croup, childbirths, childdeaths, accidents, drunkenness, children in a state of atrophy from vomiting and purging, rotten rigging, no oil for the lamps, potatoes finished, Captain refusing to let mail off the ship for fear of bad reports reaching London, typhus, pilfering, salt beef very coarse and bad. One has considerable sympathy for him when, on Christmas Day, as the visiting officers of a passing ship left the Lady Nugent he found ‘the tout ensemble was really affecting & sent my Heart into my mouth & me to my Cabin to think of all dear to me in old England & to sit & to sit & blubber like a great Baby as Fancy painted all their dear faces & how they were spending this day the first Xmas day I have ever passed among strangers.’ Nor is it surprising that his entry for the last day of the year is one of earnest piety and determination to prepare himself for death if it should come and for obedience to God if it should not.

The following day, 1 January 1841, Joseph Greenwood begins his blunt commentary. He is aware of Hilliard throughout, though unaware of his real problems; whereas Hilliard never mentions Greenwood but is always uneasily conscious of ‘the emigrants’ whom he describes at the end of the voyage as ‘generally a reckless idle immoral unprincipled set’. Consequently it is Hilliard we can spy on, through Greenwood. On 5 January, for instance, there was an unpleasant incident, and the discrepancies between the two accounts are interesting. Hilliard: ‘Mr Wathan went down to Mr Pool’s cabin which is on the Gun deck & on returning up the companion ladder, Mr Pool, who was with him was joking with Mr Carrington the 3rd Mate when Mr Large came out of his Cabin (I hear much excited with drink) & told them they were disturbing him & ordered Mr Pool to his Cabin who replied that Mr Large was a mutinous discharged officer & had no business with him, nor to speak to him and that he should not attend to him, some violent altercation ensued & Large struck Mr Pool in a most cowardly manner & while Wathan was endeavoring to part them Thorby (an emigrant who waits on the Midshipmen) came out of the Cabin & struck Mr Pool two or three very violent blows. I sent for him this morning (Tuesday) & after pointing out to him the impropriety of raising his Hand & assailling of

the Gentlemen Passengers suspended him from his situation & forbid [him] ever again during the Voyage going on the Gun deck.’ But here is Greenwood: ‘Last night about ten o’clock we had an uproar; Mr Wathan came down the Steerage, went to call Mr Pool (they were both drunk) & then they began insulting the Midshipmen; Mr Large (Chief Mate) came out of the Cabin & told them it was time to get some sleep, they then began striking him, when Torby (one of the Emigrants) & others soon got them from him. They then began wth abusive language, when Mr Turner [i.e. Torby?] told Mr W. if he said so to Mr Large he would strike him, this quietened him; after much abusive language & the Captain calling to know what was the matter they dismissed. Today the Surgeon has enquired into the matter & Torby is to be dismissed from attending upon the Midshipmen, this probably will cause some disturbance.’

According to Greenwood the row was resumed the following night, with Wathan and Pool setting upon Large. Pool was in a ‘drunken fit’ and tried, ineffectively, to resort to firearms. Hilliard is silent on this development. The confusion over so simple a question as which side was drunk suggests a strong prejudice operating somewhere, and on Hillard’s own showing in other situations one feels compelled to ascribe it to him. On Saturday the 9th Hilliard writes ‘I shot a magnificent Albatross which was from 13 to 14 feet from wing to wing.’, while the other version is ‘The Surgeon shot an Albatross before breakfast.’ Greenwood had other things on his mind this day. ‘Mr Milne having overlooked me when writing saw his name and requested or demanded to see my “Log”, but I am not inclined to submit this, not that I have taken account of ought I consider wrong, but I do not want any of the impudent Midshipmen they pose to see & make game of it. I offered to select one of them to see it but they refused & therefore they must be quiet without know its contents.’ He was as undeterred by this suspicion and hostility as he was by his own constant ill-health. Almost every entry records ‘I am unwell’ or ‘I am still unwell’ or ‘I am no better’ and on one occasion ‘I have again applied to the Surgeon who says my stomac is out of order’, and later ‘I am no better. The Surgeon has ordered me some more Medecine. My Throat is sore.’ The Surgeon does not refer to his attempts to treat this patient and at the end of the voyage the trouble was still undiagnosed.

But Greenwood’s diary gave him opportunities for mild (though silent) revenge. There was the matter of the albatrosses which the Surgeon shot on 12 January. According to Hilliard ‘[l] shot two very fine Albatros, gave one to Mr Lowther & assisted by one of the Emigrants skined the other for myself, they measured about 11 feet from tip to tip of the wings.’ While he was thus congratulating himself Greenwood was writing ‘The

Surgeon has shot 2 Albatrosses & as we have had almost a Calm they went out in the Boat for the first & the other was taken up by one of the Ship Boys (Geo.) at the Larbord side of the Ship in the water. The Surgeon got down in the Boat but was glad to get back on the Poop again. . . . The first Albatross measured 9 ft 3 in & the other 10 ft from tip to tip of the wing. The first the Captain said was not worth preserving, it was so small, he has seen them 13 ft. The second was beautifully spotted; they are about the size of a large Turkey; they have been busy skining the Birds perhaps to cure.’ The death of Mary Gray a few days later is recorded by both men, but only Hilliard sees it as an occasion for an outburst (piously retracted at the end) against the scheme of things: ‘Poor Mary Gray died this night at 11 o’Ck of Decline—Consumption! the curse of England, thou insatiable Demon! who can stay thy steps? No mortal efforts can arrest thy progress, or unfasten thy fatal grasp when thou had once seized thy victim, & why dost thou generally fix on the fairest & the gentlest of our race, & blast the opening flower just springing into Maturity. None but the Almighty in his Wisdom can know. Enough for us to feel “Whatever is, is right .” ’

Because of the serious loss of time resulting from protracted tossing about in the Bay of Biscay, Hilliard put considerable pressure on the Captain (copying his formal communications into his diary) to divert course and put in at the Cape of Good Hope for more provisions. The Captain agreed, and did in fact change course (at the same time requesting from Hilliard a ‘more peremptory order’ in writing), but then silently reverted to the original course during the night. Hilliard tried to make the best of it, restricting rations still further, but the effect on the emigrants was one of confusion and anger. With much discussion, noted by Greenwood, they wrote a letter of protest to the Surgeon about the reduced allowance of water, and 52 of them signed it. Hilliard, after first observing that this letter had ‘scarcely a respectable signature to it’ did in the end find two among them who had paid their passages, and sent for those two. Repressing whatever impulse he may have had to tell them that he had tried very hard to persuade the Captain to put in at the Cape, he said that he had acted as he believed for the best and if the emigrants were not satisfied ‘they could have their remedy against the Owners by an action at Law on their arrival at New Zealand’. And the next day he observed that ‘the Emigrants seem to be reconciled to the disappointment of not toutching at the Cape’. For their part, however, the emigrants never really forgave Hilliard and henceforth their need for a scapegoat was centred on him. There was a double, if temporary, clearing of the air the next Sunday when rain came down in torrents and the decks were strewn with every available container for collecting water. Perhaps it was this that made

Hilliard feel safe in using the Sunday service to rub home a moral: ‘Read the Morning Service at 12 in the Cuddy to the Gentlemen & such Emigrants as chose to attend [Greenwood wrote ‘They (the Cuddy passengers) had Service in the Cuddy about one P.M., they sent down to let us know just when we were set down to dinner; they Change the time for their own conveniance‘] and in the afternoon read the Evening Service to the Emigrants below & one of Bradley’s Sermons on the miracle of our blessed Lord feeding the multitudes of 5000 with 5 barley loaves & 2 small fishes. I thought it a very appropriate discourse for them, as they have done nothing but express their dissatisfaction & complaining of the small alteration I had made in their dietary table & Mr Bradley explains in very plain but forcible language the duty of all who would follow Xt. to be moderate & temperate in their appetites, content with food sufficient for them, grateful for the blessings they hourly receive & how certain all who trust in Him are to receive even temporal benefits & casting all their care on Him that he will ever provide for all their wants in this world & the next.’ No comment from our spokesman.

Troubles of various kinds arose and subsided like the mercurial sea. A midshipman was flogged for writing a rude letter to one of the Gentleman Passengers; children died; water poured on to sleeping passengers (at which Greenwood caught a Gold which became persistent) ; food continued to deteriorate (Hilliard: ‘The Beef is very inferior that the Emigrants are now eating—very coarse black meat looks more like Horse flesh than anything else.’); vulnerable bits of the ship failed to withstand the weather and broke away; mutiny hung in the air. But there were pleasant aspects of life at sea too. Hilliard gives a good deal of space to sunsets, sunrises, the moon and clouds, while Greenwood is clearly fascinated by the animal life swimming in the sea or flying above it. (‘They caught a Paupus’ he writes, using the most endearing of his mis-spellings.) By 11 February they were hoping to reach Hobart Town in 10 or 11 days. But on this day a quarrel broke out in the Cuddy between the hard-drinking Gentleman Passengers and the Captain, over his refusal to allow them more wine. ‘A great many angry words passed’ wrote Hilliard, ‘Captain Santry saying that hardly a day past but some of them were drunk etc.’ The following day ‘I called Captain Santry into my Cabin and asked for a little chat with him.’ As the Captain’s senior by ten years, Hilliard (who was on the brink of 40) felt it his duty to advise the Captain to avoid clashes at all costs, and to give way to the passengers for the sake of peace. He then called the most important passenger into the cabin to make peace with the Captain. ‘I had the Happiness of seeing good feeling and harmony once more prevail and we are now again in “smooth water & sunny weather” at least as far as the inside of our Cuddy is concerned.’ Thus Hilliard glossed over certain other unpleasant aspects of the case, but to no avail for the silent scribe was at work. The

day after Hilliard recorded his Happiness, Greenwood wrote ‘There was another unfortunate occurance which was nearly as follows. When the Intermediate’s Porter was stopped the Surgeon was on good terms with them generally; Messrs M. & A. mentioning it to him he said, there is plenty on Board, stick out & the Captain will give in to you, this was mentioned in a letter to the Captain, & the Surgeon denied it; therefore Mr M. asked him (as he came from the Sick bay) when he would be ready to go before the Captain, to clear up what he had said about Mr A. & him; he said had he said so it was very ungentlemanly of him (Mr M.) telling the Captain; but he did say, there was plenty of Emigrants Porter on board marked “Medical comforts” how did he know what was on board as cargo. The Surgeon called Mr M. a liar & Blackguard upon which he (M.) seized the Surgeon by the coat & threatened to strike him, saying you call me a liar & Blackguard; the S. answered you are proving yourself to be so; he said you call me so again & I will, the S. answered “strike me”, he said I would but you will prosecute me; he answered yes I would. Here the Cap. came down & the matter ended. The Cap. said (after) Mr M. was not drunk but had always behaved properly.’ While that was being written Hilliard was confessing to having been very unwell for the last few days, and feeling that he will not recover his health and spirits until he can resume his old habits of exercise. There is an uncharacteristic touch of depression and self-pity in this entry. A man whose burdens are such that they cannot be imparted even to his diary is a sad man.

At long last Hobart Town was reached on 27 February, and Hilliard with great relief stepped ashore. He was much impressed with what he saw and with the hospitality of Dr Learmonth, First Physician in Hobart. During the next few days he did some intensive sightseeng, enjoyed a good deal of social life, and kept his ears open for reports of New Zealand. ‘All the Hobart Town people speak terribly of Port Nicholson, say that 70 people left New Zealand & came here & to Port Philip for employment & that nothing but distrust dissatisfaction & starvation was to be met with there. Mem: not to credit all the accts. we here in this place as Hobart Town is a rival Colony & of course would not speak well of any new settlement likely to injure their own. Saw Dr. Campbell who had just arrived from Port Nicholson & was Surgeon to the Blenheim, did not like New Zealand said they were overrun with Medical men & that he was going to settle at Port Philip or Sidney.’ Greenwood, spending much less time ashore, had little to say about Hobart Town. He was impressed with some very fine shops (‘equal to London’) and beautiful houses (‘Gentlemen’s Seats’) but he was more concerned with getting his letters properly finished and sent off than with taking much notice of a place which was unlikely to play any part in his life. Two days before the Lady Nugent put to sea again, bound for Port

Nicholson, Henry Bevan, aged 12, died on board. Greenwood records his death and notes that ‘he has been unwell some time & suffered much.’ Hilliard describes it thus: ‘Hy Bevan died at 4 this morning a perfect skeleton worn out from long disease & the profuse discharge of his abcess. Dr Learmonth came on board to breakfast with me & went over the ship accompanied him on shore & saw the Coroner made a report of this Child’s death informed he would let me know in the course of the day after the Police had made inquiries whether an Inquest was necessary —I told him that I thought it could not be necessary as he had had eight weeks severe Illness & was expected to die every day for the last month.’ The following day was Hilliard’s last on shore (‘met Dr Sutherland who had just arrived from New Zealand, did not give me a very flattering acct. of it’) and early the next morning the ship sailed, with Henry Bevan’s dead body on board. Greenwood takes up the tale: ‘About 7 A.M. they committed the remains of John [i.e. Henry] Bevan to a watery Grave. It was expected he would be buried on Shore, this is probably to save the Captain the Expense. The Father thought the Surgeon’s conduct very wrong & accordingly asked E. Halswell Esq. to Read the Funeral Ceremony. The Surgeon would not allow this & therefore the Father lifted up the Grating & let the Body into the Sea then walked away, afterwards the Surgeon read the ceremony. This caused them to Quarrel. The day has been fine. I have a bad Headache etc. & have vomited.’ Hilliard, his censoring mechanism in good order, wrote: ‘Rose at 6 o’Ck. at 7 read the Service over the Body of Hy Bevan. Very unwell & feel a severe bilious attack coming on, qualmish sick & wretched

. . . obliged to go to bed.’ The next day was Sunday and Greenwood noted ‘The Surgeon is laid up so we have had no Service.’ On Thursday 11 March Greenwood makes his last reference to Hilliard: ‘The Emigrants are preparing an account of the Surgeon’s conduct for Col. Wakefield, this will tell poorly for the Surgeon & Captain.’ The Surgeon himself either was unaware of this attitude or chose to ignore it, for on Sunday he ‘read the afternoon Service to the Emigrants. ... At the termination of it I told them that in all probability that was the last time the present congregation would meet together in this ship for prayer & praise & exhorted them to pursue a religious course of life in their new country, to practise regular & daily habits of prayer that they could not expect blessings & mercies if they did not humbly & earnestly ask for them, & that prayer to the Soul was what food is to the Body, & that as certainly as they faithfully asked for blessings in the name of their Saviour He had promised that they should as surely receive them. And so ends my ministry with them.’ On Wednesday 17 March they made landfall and Hilliard’s diary comes to a close. At the end of it he copied out two letters he received, the first from ‘James Sellar’, and the second from ‘the Emigrants who

sailed in the Lady Nugent’. Both are in the form of testimonials to Hilliard’s selfless care and devotion to duty throughout the voyage. The second letter was signed by ‘all the respectable Emigrants’. On balance one feels that this view of Hilliard’s conduct was just. He was in an extraordinarily difficult situation and he handled it, on the whole, with good sense. The amiable Greenwood’s function was to show that Hilliard was more flawed with ordinary human weakness than he was able to admit. Hilliard should have the last word and he has it in his last diary entry: ‘I went in the Government Boat on Shore & delivered my despatches from the New Zealand Co. to Col. Wakefield as here ended my duty. I shall now therefore bring my Journal to a conclusion. Delivered the following list to the Emigration Agent (Mr Ritherford) got my Certificates signed & felt like a man who had travelled a very long and weary path with a heavy burthen on his back who has just reached some friendly shelter & thrown his cares & his load down together.’