View source for John Marshall's Journal


'''Background'''

John Marshall's descendants hold a copy of a journal or (more probably) memoirs which provide some detail of his life, including the two voyages to New South Wales. To date, they have declined to make a complete copy of the memoirs available, but extracts have been published online, and in the late 1920s, a member of the family published some of the details in a work of fiction (Amy Walton, 'Susan', London: Blackie & Son Limited, c.1929).

What little we know already is invaluable in providing background to an important figure in the early years of convict transportation, and from 'Susan' we learn previously unknown details about the planned mutiny on the Scarborough (1790) and how it was exposed.

- Gary L. Sturgess, 26 March 2016

'''John Marshall's Journal'''

The Journal purports to have been written by John Marshall when he was 69, that is, in 1817. The name Ann Bedford (one of his descendants) appears on the flyleaf.

Summary of early life by a family member: His father Robert died in 1755. Marshall states that his elder brother Thomas lived with an uncle at "Cape --------- ", North Carolina, in America". There appears to  have been two Uncles, one in London, & one in America. Both helped him out considerably. The London based one appears to have been a shipowner, who had a son, also at sea to whom he naturally showed preference. JM referred to the Uncle in America as also the Uncle of the London cousin. Ergo the two Uncles appear to have been brothers. The American Uncle was also a shipowner and a prosperous merchant. On one voyage there JM was advised by his Uncle that his (JM's) brother (Thomas) was unlikely to get higher than boatswain. He also referred to being wrecked on a shoal called the Frying Pan, about 21 miles off land after leaving his Uncle at Cape ----- . This seems to be about 1774-1775.
 
The cargo he was carrying at the time of the shipwreck was pitch & tar & supplies for London. This cargo belonged to the American uncle. Another cargo referred to is timber. Apparently JM's brother Thomas was not at Cape Fear when JM arrived, but on a voyage to the West Indies with a cargo of timber.

Extract from the manuscript (probably relating to 1780):

"The next day, I got myself shipped, as chief mate, in a ship belonging to Scarborough; in the transport service: we took in provisions at Deptford, & sailed to Portsmouth, to join Admiral Rodney, to go out to the West Indies. We sailed for St Lucia, where we arrived safe."

Extract from the manuscript (1781-82):

". . . & bought a fine cutter, of 108 tons; of which I took one quarter part, for which share I paid £650: Having Admiral Young for my good friend, I applied to him, who got her into the service for me. I should have done well, had the war continued. I had her only 16 months, when peace came; & my cutter was discharged, out of the King’s service. She was then, laid up, for sale, in the Surrey canal; & there she remained for one year, when she was sold, for the small sum of £800. This was a great loss to me."

Extract from ‘Susan’ by Amy Walton, another family member, published in 1888. This account is based on the Journal but fictionalised and Marshall is presented as Captain Enticknapp, but a note at the end of the chapter reports that it was based on Marshall’s journal. (Marshall was not shot by convicts on this voyage, but in a later voyage when the ship on which he was a passenger was attacked by a privateer). This relates to the convict mutiny on the Scarborough in 1789:

"It was in the spring of 1789, when he had been at home with us for a month, that he received orders to start for the colony with a second lot of 200 convicts, some to be taken on board at Woolwich, and some at Portsmouth; he was afterwards to proceed to China for a cargo of tea, and would therefore be away a long, long time. The whole household was sorry for this, because we all missed his cheerful companionship; but my mother grieved most of all, for she understood better than we did, the dangers he would go through, and felt each time he left her, that she might never see him again. But she showed her trouble as little as she could until he was out of her sight, so that he might go on his way with a good heart, and not be too much cast down at leaving us alone.

“Well, he got down to Portsmouth, and the convicts came on board, looking at the first glance all very much alike, with their cropped heads and their prison clothes. But this was not really so, there was a great difference between them; for some were men of education and some were ignorant; some were brutal and wicked by nature, and others only weak and foolish; some were stupid, and others clever, and each of these things stamps its own expression on the face and form.

“As my father stood on the quay watching the men as they passed him, someone tapped him on the shoulder, and turning he saw a certain Major Grose standing there.

“‘Captain Enticknapp,’ he said; ‘a word with you about one of those men. Notice the one standing fourth from us now; his name is Birt. I know him well and his father too. He can be trusted; it is misfortune rather than vice which has brought him to this evil pass. If you can, allow him some privileges, and show him kindness during the voyage. You will do me a service if you will bear this in mind.’

“Now my father was a man only too ready to think well of others, and to do them a kindness if possible, so he willingly promised, and observed Birt closely 
that he might know him again. He was a slight young fellow of about twenty, with delicate features and large melancholy eyes which he bent on the ground; so shame-faced and sad looking, and such a contrast in his bearing to the recklessness of many of the other men, that my father’s heart was at once touched with pity for him.

“On the voyage he took every possible occasion of being kind to Birt, and allowed him the privilege of being on deck all day instead of only two hours like the rest of the convicts. He also lent him books, encouraged him to talk of his troubles, and by degrees learned the whole story of his misfortunes. Now, in doing this my father became fond of him, for to bestow benefits on anyone is a sure way to make a friendly feeling towards them, and as for Birt he would have done anything to serve the captain and show his gratitude. Very soon this chance was given to him.

“At night the convicts were all locked down under hatches and sentinels placed over them. The men lay six in a berth, and it so happened that one of these disclosed to Birt a plot that forty of them had made and signed with their blood. Would he join them and have his share of the prize?

“Now Birt dared not say no, for he feared for his life amongst those desperate men.

“‘Before I say that I will,’ he replied, ‘I must know your plan. How is it possible to seize the ship when such a good look-out is kept?’

“Then the convict told him all that had been settled by the mutineers. At four o’clock when the hatches were raised most of the officers went to their cabins, and there would be more than twenty convicts on deck who were all in the plot. They would then knock down the sentinels, get possession of the quarter-deck, and seize the firearms which were ready loaded. They would next release their other comrades and alter the course of the ship.

“‘But what,’ asked Birt, ‘will you do with the captain, officers, and soldiers?’

“‘We will kill the captain,’ replied the wretch, ‘and put his head at the main topgallant masthead—and we will put the first-mate’s head at the mizzen, and the boatswain’s at the fore. The other convicts who are not with us in the matter we shall put on shore at some island, and leave them to shift for themselves, they are worth nothing. The ship is a good prize, for the captain has a large sum of money on board to take out for the East India Company. These things done, we shall kill the great hog, and with plenty of drink we shall have a good time of it. Do you join us?’

“Birt consented, for he dared not do otherwise; but all night long he thought, and thought, and wondered how to get the plot to the captain’s knowledge. He was determined to save his life and that of the crew; but it was not an easy matter, for he knew that the convicts would now watch him narrowly and that he must not be seen talking to any of the officers. The only thing to do was to put it down in writing and get it somehow into their hands. But how to write it, when he was never a moment alone? and it must be done the next day.

“At last after much puzzling he hit upon a plan.

“In the morning when he went on deck he washed a shirt and took it up to the foretop to dry. Now the foretop is a place high up in the rigging of the ship, a very giddy height indeed, and when a man is there he is really almost out of sight and it is impossible to see what he is doing from the deck. Birt had a little pocket book with him, and in it, as he sat on the foretop, he wrote down all he knew about the intended mutiny. When he went below he hoped to get a chance of slipping it into the captain’s hand, or of putting it where he would be likely to find it.

“But luck was against him, for he could not get near the captain the whole of that day, and there were keen eyes always fastened upon him by the convicts, who were on deck by fifty at a time, and watched each other closely for fear of treachery. Amongst each fifty there were always some who were in the plot, and if they had suspected Birt of betraying them they would have made short work of him, and this he knew very well. Evening came, and still he had been able to do nothing. The next morning at four o’clock the bloody deed was to be done. He paced the deck to and fro, to and fro, almost in despair, and yet determined to venture something for the captain’s sake. Then he noticed that the first-mate was in the hold, serving out water, and suddenly an idea came into Birt’s head. He pretended to stumble, threw himself right down the hatchway as though by accident, and fell a distance of sixteen feet into the hold. As you may imagine all was immediately stir and excitement, for at first they thought he was killed—and, indeed, he was badly bruised, having fallen on to a water-cask. In the bustle, however, he managed to slip the book into the mate’s hand, and the thing was done. The surgeon was sent for and they got him up on deck, where, while his hurts were being looked to, he had the satisfaction of seeing the mate go aft and then into the captain’s cabin.

“Promptly the soldiers were ordered up, but when the convicts on deck found their plot discovered they did not yield without a struggle. It was a short but a violent one, for in the confusion they got hold of some fire arms and fought desperately. The captain was twice wounded, and it was then that the old watch you see there had its share in saving his life. For the bullet, striking against the case and passing through it, was thus lessened in force, and did not reach a vital part of the body. It was, nevertheless, a serious hurt, and caused him much suffering, for it was some days before the bit of metal could be extracted from the wound.

“Meanwhile the convicts, being overpowered, were secured under hatches again, and the captain then made Birt point out the ringleaders and the most desperate of the men, which he did to the number of thirteen. These were placed in irons for the rest of the voyage, and when the vessel arrived at Port Jackson it was supposed they would have been hanged. But the governor declaring that it was not in his power to do so, they were registered to be kept in irons, chained two and two together, all their lives long.

“And thus this wicked plot was found out, and those wicked men punished, and thus it pleased Heaven to preserve your great-grandfather’s life—first by reason of the gratitude and devotion of Mr. Birt, and secondly through his stout old watch which did him good service and turned aside the enemy’s bullet.”
Aunt Hannah paused, and looked up at the picture again.

“But,” said Susan, “what became of Mr. Birt?”

“He was pardoned,” replied my aunt, “on the representation of my father—because of the service he had rendered in saving the ship and crew at the risk of his own life.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Sophia Jane; “because it was so very good of him to tumble down the hatchway.”

“He never returned to England,” continued Aunt Hannah, “but settled in China, where I believe he prospered and became at last a rich man. My father often heard from him and always spoke of him with affection.” (Amy Walton, 'Susan', Chap.VII)

Extract from the Journal (relating to 1793-94):

"As my nephew was out of employ, I asked him if he would become part owner with me in a vessel, in the Newfoundland trade; having agreed with him, we purchased a small brig for £500: of about 100 tons. We fitted her up, & intended to have gone in her myself, to fish on the banks of Newfoundland, & had cleared out at the Custom House accordingly; meaning to sail the next day: but meeting a gentleman, on chance whom I knew; who told me he had a fine ship, in good employ; if I would take the command of her; she was bound to China, & to sail under Genoese colours, from Ostend. Having agreed to the offer, I altered the papers of the brig, & sent my nephew out in her; my new ship was called the Renommee. We took in, at London, 300 tons of lead, & then sailed for Ostend, where we completed our cargo, this was in the year 1794. We made the voyage, out & home, without any accident, in 18 months." 

In his Journal, Marshall claimed that he left the ship at St Bartholomew, believing his presence on board would endanger the ship and her crew (who were Genoese), since the port was blockaded by the French. According to this account, written by a family member, he took passage home on the Diana (which did not sail until 1797). [This is incorrect. He had returned earlier, but it was while sailing on the Diana in 1797 that he was shot during an attack by a privateer.]

Extract from the Journal, relating to 1797-98:

"My business at London being finished, I went home to my wife & family at Ramsgate. After being there some time, I was advised to leave the sea, & endeavour to get a living on shore. My friends persuaded me to build a windmill for grinding corn, & thought that I would get a good livelihood. I took some time to consider of this, &, at length, acceded to their advice. As I was quite a stranger to the business, I thought it would be better to have a partner who would understand it better than myself; accordingly I found a man to my satisfaction; & built a good large mill with three pairs of stones, & everything that was necessary to set him a-going.

"We had scarcely got to work before wheat began to rise from 40 shillings up to ten pounds per quarter; which made it all the worse for us, as we had but little money to go on with. My partner wishing to give up the business, I took the mill to myself, striving to get on as well as I could, I had built a house close to my mill, that I might be handy to my work; this took up the most part of my money, that I should have had in the business; I was therefore obliged to mortgage the mill for £800. I laboured on for five years, but finding I was losing something considerable, yearly; I thought it would be for the best to sell the mill: which I accordingly did, at the loss of £200. I next set upon a bake house; thinking to bring my son up to some trade, whereby he might get his living, after my death, for I had nothing to leave him. We carried on the business for two years, & were doing well; by this time my son was able, with the help of a good foreman, to carry on the business, but never liked it, as it did not agree with him. In the meantime, I had an offer to go as commander of a ship to Jamaica; which I accepted & took charge of her. In the meantime I had sold my home to the Duchess of Sussex.
Around 1800 – Marshall planned to command of yet another vessel, with the intention of sailing to Jamaica. It is unclear if this happened.

"In the meantime, I had an offer to go as commander of a ship to Jamaica; which I accepted & took charge of her. In the meantime I had sold my home to the Duchess of Sussex."

The following appears as a postscript to the Journal, written in the same hand as the name Ann Bedford on the flyleaf:
Inscription on back of old watch
 
‘On the 4th February 1797 10.00 o’clock A.M.: Capt. John Marshall on board “The Diana” of 14 guns & 24 men, had a ball pass through his body & another through his watch & thigh in beating off a French Privateer of 16 guns & 92 men.’