Revised Jun 1 2021
WHEN, in 1853, Admiral Moresby visited Pitcairn Island, he saw that the rapidly increasing numbers of the inhabitants would soon necessitate a removal of a part, or the whole, of the community to a larger place, although he judged that Pitcairn Island, if brought under proper cultivation, was capable of maintaining a thousand inhabitants. The admiral argued that as a removal must be made at some future time, it would be the wisest course to have it done as early as possible, only he stipulated that all the people should go together.
And now the time was rapidly approaching. A report was sent to the home government concerning the matter, and early in the year 1856 H. M. S. Juno was sent from the colonies to inform the islanders that arrangements were being made for their removal to a larger island, and also to advise them to make the necessary preparations for their departure.
The tidings were received with different feelings. Some were ready to seize the opportunity of improving their worldly prospects, and the very thought of a change from their hitherto quiet lives was hailed with delight, while others, to whom home and its associations were dearer than any prospect that could be held out to them, preferred to remain, and probably were only restrained from so doing because the advice of their good friend, the admiral, was that all should go and receive their grant of land.
The island chosen for the future home of the Pitcairn islanders was Norfolk Island, once a penal settlement. The island is about twenty miles in circumference, and well capable of maintaining several thousand inhabitants.
In the latter part of April, 1856, the Morayshire, commanded by Captain Joseph Mathers, arrived from Sydney, to carry the emigrants to their new home. By the second day of May everything was ready, and the time had come to say farewell to the dear old spot where all their lives had been spent. Some, with buoyant hopes and bright expectations, stepped on board the ship that was to carry them away, while others—and these the far greater number—with sad hearts and tear-dimmed eyes left their island home. Utterly lonely and desolate, the little rock stood in the vast ocean as it slowly receded from view, and many a silent tear was shed and final farewell whispered for the dear old home that most of them were to behold no more, and which to many was most sacred because of the loved ones sleeping there.
The passage to Norfolk Island was accomplished in thirty-six days, and was, on the whole, rather pleasant than otherwise to the emigrants. But few of them suffered from seasickness during the entire voyage. On the 8th of June, 1856, the Morayshire arrived at Norfolk Island, and well pleased was the worthy captain to get rid of the noisy crowd, the children more especially, who tried his patience sorely, and who often enlivened the ship with their cries and screams. No death occurred on the passage, but one poor little baby who was sick all the way, lingered only a few days after landing, and then died.
When the Morayshire arrived at Norfolk Island, H. M. S. Herald was already there surveying. Boats from the latter ship boarded the new arrival, bringing acceptable supplies of fresh provisions. Her people also very kindly assisted in landing the emigrants and their goods. The crew of a whaling vessel rendered help as well. When the Morayshire left, after a stay of a little over two weeks, the captain took away the few persons that had been on the island to take care of the property ere it passed into other hands. The passengers who left Norfolk Island on the Morayshire were a Mr. Stuart, who acted as governor, and his wife, a man by the name of Rogers, his wife and little daughter, and an elderly couple named Waterson. Besides these were eight reformed convicts, whose work was to look after the affairs of the place.
Old Mrs. Waterson related a dream that made an impression upon her mind. A few nights before the emigrants landed, she seemed to see a woman, tall, large, and dark complexioned, standing by her side. So vivid was everything connected with the dream, even to the woman's name, Rachel, that she felt convinced that the person was on the coming ship. Accordingly, when the people landed, she started off in search of the reality, and scanned with curious eagerness each face that she saw. Not meeting on the street anyone that answered to the description, she went on toward the pier, and, within a few minutes' walk of the place, discovered the object of her search sitting on the steps of the Convicts' Hospital. A warm welcome and greeting followed, with the explanation that the acquaintance had been already made in a dream, and Mrs. Waterson was especially gratified to learn that the dream was true to the very name, the person being Rachel Evans, the daughter of John Adams. Even before the old lady left the island, the pleasing acquaintance had ripened into warm friendship.
Each one exerted himself in pointing out to the new arrivals the different buildings and their various uses, among them the old and new barracks, the government house, the jail and prison, all strongly built of stone, some of which were beautiful as well as strong. Many dreadful tales were also told concerning the island and those who were sent there to be punished, but scarcely a trace remained to testify to the truth of the dark stories of blood and crime. At one place, outside of the burying ground, was shown a mound several feet in length, where moldered the dust of thirteen men who were hung for some dreadful crime on the trees above, while their open grave yawned beneath them.
An eyewitness related how, one day, when 'a gang of convicts was constructing a bridge over a stream, one of them murdered a constable who was in charge of the gang. From this dreadful act the scene of the murder received its name, and the "Bloody Bridge" stands, a lasting monument of the awful crime committed there. A tragic story was told of a convict who contrived to make his escape from Norfolk Island to another small island some three miles distant, called Philip Island. By some means this man, known as Jacky-Jacky, was discovered, and a boat was immediately dispatched to secure the escaped prisoner. Finding himself discovered and pursued, and choosing death rather than capture, Jacky-Jacky started to the highest point of the island, several hundred feet above the sea level, where he cast himself off and so perished.
These were only some of the stories that were told by those who were themselves witnesses of the awful scenes, stories still more dark and fearful in their nature than were those in connection with the early settlement of the island lately deserted by the emigrants. But the deeds of horror and bloodshed had passed away with the lives of those who committed them, and everything betokened calmness and peace when the little colony entered on their newly granted possession.