George Barrington: Australia’s first literary celebrity and a fake author

One of the texts falsely attributed to Barrington was A Voyage to Botany Bay, an account of his journey to and life in the penal colony that was first published in 1795. Publishers either made up the details of the story or else they shamelessly plagiarised worthy but comparatively dull official reports of the colony, making them racier and more sentimental in order to sell to a popular readership.

The Barrington book publications typically took the form of chapbooks - a form of popular literature that had its origins in the 16th century, and was short and inexpensive (between a penny and sixpence); easy to carry around; and sold by hawkers or “chapmen” - but the first major publication to appear under the George Barrington name was An Impartial Narrative of the Present State of Botany Bay in the 1790s, later reissued and expanded under the snappier title A Voyage to New South Wales (and later still as A Voyage to Botany Bay). A second book, The History of New South Wales, appeared in 1802. These appeared in the same period as the first-person accounts of colonial officials such as Arthur Philip, Watkin Tench, John Hunter and David Collins.

The typical Barrington voyage narrative is essentially utopian: transportation not only removed a criminal from England but also caused him to undergo a conversion while on board ship so he emerged a reformed and useful character. One episode that’s certainly pure invention has Barrington quell a mutiny almost single-handedly. When Barrington arrives at Botany Bay the captain’s report to the governor on his loyal service during the mutiny leads to his appointment as superintendent of convicts at Parramatta. While Barrington himself did eventually secure a similar position, it wasn’t until he’d been living in the colony for a few years, and certainly not because of any mutiny.

Suzanne Rickard writes in George Barrington’s Voyage to Botany Bay that the Barrington voyage narrative not only met the public demand for accessible tales of the new colony but also pandered to the widespread expectation that transportation would prove an effective means of reforming criminals so they’d be fit to found a new civilisation. Less high-minded interests were also catered for:

While some of the public’s curiosity about the penal colony’s development was pedagogic, others maintained a more prurient interest in the gothic horrors of punishment, transportation and convictism.

Although the indigenous population is represented as primitive, infantile and “filthy” in Barrington’s encounters, they’re also represented in sentimental terms that suggest a paternalistic approach is necessary and justified. In one incident Barrington saves the life of a boy who’s been shot with an arrow. The boy’s sister Yeariana, who just happens to be comely, is persuaded by the kindly Barrington that she has nothing to fear and her brother will recover:

I beckoned at my young friend who advanced with the utmost confidence, and giving her the hand of her brother, she exclaimed with great emotion, “Diggery-goor, Digger-goor,” I thank you - and turning to her father called him to her, I immediately quitted my station and resigned him to their care; the old man examined the wound and with great skill extracted the barb. During the operation the youth lifted his eyes, and observing his father, a glance of filial affection beamed forth.

As Rickard notes, this touching scene resembles an episode mentioned in the journals of John Hunter; one of many apparent plagiarisms carefully reworked into the Barrington story.

And in commercial terms the Barrington publishing swindle worked; countless editions of the fake memoir appeared within the first 20 years and beyond and it was translated into several languages. And among the original reviewers there’s at least one who was persuaded that Barrington not only wrote the book but was truly a changed man:

We confess that we took up this performance with prejudice and suspicion, arising from the name which appears on the title page being that of the author. Not that we supposed Mr George Barrington to be incapable of writing a very readable book, but the well-known character and exploits of the man at once brought to our minds such a recollection of past imposture and depredation on the public, that it was impossible for us to read a line of such a production without caution and distrust. On perusing, however, a few pages of the work, our suspicion abated; and, before we arrived at its conclusion, not a doubt remained of its authenticity.

Another reviewer stopped short of vouching for the authenticity of the book, but tacitly approved of its factual basis and moral tenor:

Whether this be a genuine work of the celebrated convict or not, it contains nothing that has not been seen before on the subject; and if it gives a genuine account of Mr. B’s reformation, we are glad to find that his distance from his native country had put him beyond the reach of temptation to violate her laws and the laws of society in general.