Witnessed by Rev. Richard Johnson, June, 1790
Never has my mind been so perturbed, my heart so wounded
Below decks on the Surprize, I beheld a sight so abominably shameful
in that dank, dark hold of a prison that I gave way to tears
A great number of these grim and grizzled fogeys were lying
half-naked, without cot or blanket
out of blood – save their gums from scurvy
unable to turn over, downright helpless in their slavers’ shackles
plagued by boils, flogging scars and festering sores
Spoke to the poor wretches as I passed along this divan of illness
But I could scarce endure the thick, rank stench that was so palpable
Blood and ‘ouns! Are we a wise and understanding people?
Our fellow-creatures may have acted ruinously on their own part
But are they not His children and is the defect not entirely their own?
After quitting the Cape , tossed in rough seas and stormy gales,
Captain William Hill, commander of the guard,
Was moved to say the convicts were
too much confined and refused access to the deck
deprived of their fair ration
considerably above their middles in water
chained together, hand and leg, for days at a time
ironed till the fleet closed with Port Jackson
‘Tis a grievous sin that the sick were left dying in their chains
Then left to rot. A deuced wet ship, the devil’s own
Three Floating Hells! thundered Governor Phillip,
When he tallied the number of dead – two hundred and sixty-seven!
Lord have mercy upon us!
The good Captain advised
Not to venture into the bowels of the Scarborough and Neptune
Those prisons were even more vile, if ‘twere possible
So many unrigged starvelings
sick as a horse, hanging by the eyelids, he said
To my shame, I never descended
Touch nothing unclean
Keep yourselves clean, you who are carrying the utensils of Jehovah
Am I righteous before God?
I fear that I am a rock hidden below water
Solomon sensed fellow-creatures to be objects of pity before their captors
Yet how can I preach deliverance in such wilderness to bruised reeds?
Or heal the broken-hearted in this house of fetters?
Skinned and thrown about like sheep without a shepherd
O Lord, give me strength to recover my sight, wretch that I am!
Can the blind lead the blind?
That blood-sucker - Forgive me, Lord!
That veritable blood-sucker of a master, Donald Traill, was cruelly vicious
Even as these unfortunates are lying prostrate for undertaking
He has the gall to open a warehouse in Sydney Cove
To sell the victuals of those he has sacrificed. Blood for blood
I am rich and increased with goods and have need of nothing
And knowest not that
thou art wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked
No man can presume to minister justice on this circle of earth
For who shall ‘scape whipping?
Guilty men will arise from the dust to be judged
Upon being lugged up to the open air, these poor beggars
squinted like a bag of nails
some fainted, fagged to the utterance
others collapsed, snuffed upon the deck
many could not move hand or foot
such were slung over the ship’s side like a cask
some passed to the other side in the longboat
thence to join their Redeemer
When they were brought ashore, upwards of five hundred sick
many could not walk
not even stand or stir,
so long had they been hobbled by short bolts and starved
some were led by hopping Giles
some creeped upon hands and knees
some were carried pick-a-back
many died dunghill
In all of a muck
Their heads, bodies, clouts, blankets
All covered in filth and lice
And the sea gave up the dead which were in it
And death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them
And they were judged every man according to their works
Michael Small May 23-29, 2004
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