Savage Scots
As touched on elsewhere in this site, Britain had a very highly stratified society. While not impossible, it was very difficult to move upwards, and if you did, you would generally not be regarded as equal by those born to whatever class you moved into. And, of course, it was easier to move downwards. And if you did, you would often find yourself used as an example of failure, often connected to some sort of lack of suitable godliness.
Each level in this society very jealously guarded itself against encroachments from below, while usually very assiduously tugging their forelocks, real and metaphorical, to those above them. If they ever thought about it, and those in the upper classes constantly threw up examples of their class who were incapable of thought, they justified this state of affairs as being ordained by god.
This meant that military officers, for example, and other free settlers in Australia, regarded it as an absolute, incontrovertible fact that they were better than anyone who is or has been found guilty of a crime and transported as a convict, and, of course, any descendant the convict may have.
Criminality was a deep, dark stain that could never, even over the generations, be washed out. Rather like the blood on Lady Macbeth's hands. This was an interesting view for people who, mostly, effected criminal schemes of all sorts, but had simply not been found guilty by a "good" British court. But self-awareness doesn't seem to have been a factor in these peoples' consciousness.
Okay, we've had a look at the lead-up to Macquarie's arrival. You will know that there were people of power and wealth in New South Wales, or, at least, their relatives, because several of them skipped the country just before Lachlan arrived because they rightly feared the possibility of being arrested by Lachlan's savage Scots and tried by Lachlan. Although the two main coup leaders, Johnston and the nasty, manipulative, egotistic, delusional Macarthur returned to the colony several years later.
And these people of wealth and power, known today as "exclusives", hated convicts and former convicts. And people who tried to help them, especially when the exclusives realised Macquarie intended to rule without them, the exclusives, wherever possible, therefore minimising their access to power and greater wealth.
And worse, Macquarie would do so using former convicts and their children, and even ticket-of-leave men who, strictly speaking, were still convicts. And even worse still, Macquarie intended to treat former convicts as human beings, as though they were of the same social status as those who were unstained with criminal backgrounds. Of course, they knew nothing of Macquarie's extremely humble background, nor of his own criminal proclivities.
However, Lachlan's first major crisis probably occurred within his savage Scots, or, more accurately, their officers. Aware, like the exclusives, of their social status, some of the officers protested at being invited to dine with the governor along with former convicts. One, Lieutenant McNaughton, only a lieutenant, for goodness sake, even stormed out of the governor's residence.
Although that might have been because the lieutenant apparently believed convict women were all right to have sex with and become obsessed with. To the extent that one could apparently beat one of her male friends, or perhaps alternative customers, to death with a fence pole.
However, McNaughton's fellow officers did the right thing and sentenced him to death for murder. Oh, hang on, I was thinking of what would have happened if the male friend had killed the lieutenant. No, they sentenced their fellow officer to six months in pokey.
One wonders if McNaughton's friends consorted with him upon his release now he was "stained", or didn't killing a former convict count as a staining? And did the now former lieutenant refuse to mix with his fellow convicts during his six months? Or did his views about consorting with former convicts undergo a miraculous change while he was forced to consort with current convicts? One just hopes the convict cooks peed in his gruel.
Macquarie was more than peeved when this upstart pipsqueak walked out of his dinner. But he was significantly more than angry when the same pipsqueak was not sentenced to death for murder. He had a problem. These rebellious officers were unprepared to accept the orders not only of a major-general, as Macquarie now was, but of the seat of all governmental authority, civil and military, as Macquarie also was.
The rebels began conspiring with the exclusives, and writing letters of complaint to anyone of importance they knew in England. As many of them were younger sons of important families, this began a stream of letters of complaint about Macquarie's improper social attitudes and "autocratic" exercise of power.
Fortunately for Macquarie, after several requests, the Black Watch was recalled in 1814, and replaced by a more compliant regiment headed up by an old friend of his from his India days, a bloke called Molle.
Except the old friend didn't share his attitudes towards emancipists, and the whole cycle started off again. Only this time they weren't recalled and the flow of letters back to England increased.
It didn't help when Macquarie's friends made libelous attacks on some of these creatures. His secretary, Campbell, was successfully sued for libel by the appalling Not-So-Reverend Samuel Marsden, the Hanging Parson, a nickname earned for the christian attitude of the court when he was sitting as magistrate, for suggesting Marsden got Tahitian girls drunk and gave them crabs of the non-marine variety. Marsden joined the letter writers, and launched a magisterial inquiry into Macquarie's activities.
William Wentworth wrote rather an amusing anonymous poetic attack on Molle, in which he accused Molle of publicly sucking Macquarie's whatnots, although, sad to say, he didn't use those precise words, while he, Molle, was stabbing the governor in the back.
Oh, yes, not to forget that he reckoned Molle was a fat, money-grubbing, anti-emancipist bigot, and drunken letch, which, frankly, could have very accurately described most of the officers and exclusive males in the colony.
Nonetheless, Molle's fellow officers offered a reward of £100 for the name of the poet. Of course, this just led to greater publicity of the content of the attack, and warned William to head off for a "business" trip to London for a while.
The officers published an attack on those who consort with emancipists, extolling the social virtues of their mess, which did not allow entry to them. Macquarie, rightly, regarded this as an attack on himself, and was duly incensed.
Eventually, Molle's men associated the name Wentworth with the libel, and Molle arrested D'Arcy, although by this time Molle seems to have known it was William who penned the piece.
As much for D'Arcy's safety as anything else, Lachlan ordered his friend, they were apparently still friends after the hospital furore, be locked up until Molle's regiment sailed away. In this way he was able to corral the problem until it didn't matter any more.
Each level in this society very jealously guarded itself against encroachments from below, while usually very assiduously tugging their forelocks, real and metaphorical, to those above them. If they ever thought about it, and those in the upper classes constantly threw up examples of their class who were incapable of thought, they justified this state of affairs as being ordained by god.
This meant that military officers, for example, and other free settlers in Australia, regarded it as an absolute, incontrovertible fact that they were better than anyone who is or has been found guilty of a crime and transported as a convict, and, of course, any descendant the convict may have.
Criminality was a deep, dark stain that could never, even over the generations, be washed out. Rather like the blood on Lady Macbeth's hands. This was an interesting view for people who, mostly, effected criminal schemes of all sorts, but had simply not been found guilty by a "good" British court. But self-awareness doesn't seem to have been a factor in these peoples' consciousness.
Okay, we've had a look at the lead-up to Macquarie's arrival. You will know that there were people of power and wealth in New South Wales, or, at least, their relatives, because several of them skipped the country just before Lachlan arrived because they rightly feared the possibility of being arrested by Lachlan's savage Scots and tried by Lachlan. Although the two main coup leaders, Johnston and the nasty, manipulative, egotistic, delusional Macarthur returned to the colony several years later.
And these people of wealth and power, known today as "exclusives", hated convicts and former convicts. And people who tried to help them, especially when the exclusives realised Macquarie intended to rule without them, the exclusives, wherever possible, therefore minimising their access to power and greater wealth.
And worse, Macquarie would do so using former convicts and their children, and even ticket-of-leave men who, strictly speaking, were still convicts. And even worse still, Macquarie intended to treat former convicts as human beings, as though they were of the same social status as those who were unstained with criminal backgrounds. Of course, they knew nothing of Macquarie's extremely humble background, nor of his own criminal proclivities.
However, Lachlan's first major crisis probably occurred within his savage Scots, or, more accurately, their officers. Aware, like the exclusives, of their social status, some of the officers protested at being invited to dine with the governor along with former convicts. One, Lieutenant McNaughton, only a lieutenant, for goodness sake, even stormed out of the governor's residence.
Although that might have been because the lieutenant apparently believed convict women were all right to have sex with and become obsessed with. To the extent that one could apparently beat one of her male friends, or perhaps alternative customers, to death with a fence pole.
However, McNaughton's fellow officers did the right thing and sentenced him to death for murder. Oh, hang on, I was thinking of what would have happened if the male friend had killed the lieutenant. No, they sentenced their fellow officer to six months in pokey.
One wonders if McNaughton's friends consorted with him upon his release now he was "stained", or didn't killing a former convict count as a staining? And did the now former lieutenant refuse to mix with his fellow convicts during his six months? Or did his views about consorting with former convicts undergo a miraculous change while he was forced to consort with current convicts? One just hopes the convict cooks peed in his gruel.
Macquarie was more than peeved when this upstart pipsqueak walked out of his dinner. But he was significantly more than angry when the same pipsqueak was not sentenced to death for murder. He had a problem. These rebellious officers were unprepared to accept the orders not only of a major-general, as Macquarie now was, but of the seat of all governmental authority, civil and military, as Macquarie also was.
The rebels began conspiring with the exclusives, and writing letters of complaint to anyone of importance they knew in England. As many of them were younger sons of important families, this began a stream of letters of complaint about Macquarie's improper social attitudes and "autocratic" exercise of power.
Fortunately for Macquarie, after several requests, the Black Watch was recalled in 1814, and replaced by a more compliant regiment headed up by an old friend of his from his India days, a bloke called Molle.
Except the old friend didn't share his attitudes towards emancipists, and the whole cycle started off again. Only this time they weren't recalled and the flow of letters back to England increased.
It didn't help when Macquarie's friends made libelous attacks on some of these creatures. His secretary, Campbell, was successfully sued for libel by the appalling Not-So-Reverend Samuel Marsden, the Hanging Parson, a nickname earned for the christian attitude of the court when he was sitting as magistrate, for suggesting Marsden got Tahitian girls drunk and gave them crabs of the non-marine variety. Marsden joined the letter writers, and launched a magisterial inquiry into Macquarie's activities.
William Wentworth wrote rather an amusing anonymous poetic attack on Molle, in which he accused Molle of publicly sucking Macquarie's whatnots, although, sad to say, he didn't use those precise words, while he, Molle, was stabbing the governor in the back.
Oh, yes, not to forget that he reckoned Molle was a fat, money-grubbing, anti-emancipist bigot, and drunken letch, which, frankly, could have very accurately described most of the officers and exclusive males in the colony.
Nonetheless, Molle's fellow officers offered a reward of £100 for the name of the poet. Of course, this just led to greater publicity of the content of the attack, and warned William to head off for a "business" trip to London for a while.
The officers published an attack on those who consort with emancipists, extolling the social virtues of their mess, which did not allow entry to them. Macquarie, rightly, regarded this as an attack on himself, and was duly incensed.
Eventually, Molle's men associated the name Wentworth with the libel, and Molle arrested D'Arcy, although by this time Molle seems to have known it was William who penned the piece.
As much for D'Arcy's safety as anything else, Lachlan ordered his friend, they were apparently still friends after the hospital furore, be locked up until Molle's regiment sailed away. In this way he was able to corral the problem until it didn't matter any more.