The Convict King

Introduction

AMONGST the mass of commonplace offenders against her laws whom England banished to Botany Bay and Van Diemen's Land during the first half of the nineteenth century, were not a few remarkable characters of a superior type and with singular records; and the most conspicuous member of this class, the "usurping despot of a little reign," the only monarch who has left London for the Antipodes in a convictship, was the extraordinary adventurer whose chequered career is described in detail in the following pages. The name of Jorgen Jorgenson (Jürgensen is the strictly correct spelling) is not wholly unfamiliar to the reading public, for he has his little niche in all the biographical dictionaries;* but these standard authorities abruptly dismiss him on his transportation to Van Diemen's Land, "where," they all agree in saying, "he is supposed to have died shortly afterwards."* But this gratuitous supposition is entirely erroneous. Jorgenson lived another active and adventurous career extending over twenty years at the Antipodes — he pushed himself to the front at both ends of the earth — and wrote his autobiography in the Van Diemen's Land Annual for 1835 and 1838. This unique record of a strange, a kaleidoscopic, a melo-dramatic life in real action I have thought worthy of being rescued from oblivion, and it will substantially be found in the following pages. I say substantially, because I have not made a literal transcript. Jorgenson was a foreigner, and notwithstanding his long residence in English lands and the considerable amount of practice he had both in speaking and writing our language, he never acquired a facility in English composition. Nearly all his numerous works are written in a style that is both unfamiliar and unattractive to the ordinary reader. I have therefore rewritten his autobiography, retaining all its characteristic features, adhering strictly to the recorded facts, but presenting them in what I trust will be found to be a readable and consecutive narrative. The original, it must be confessed, is rugged, unequal and discursive, but the inherent interest attaching to the autobiography of a daring adventurer whose life was so crowded with incident in both hemispheres, is amply sufficient to atone for all superficial imperfections. Jorgenson's authoritative history is now submitted for the first time to English readers, to whom it has hitherto been wholly unknown, buried as it has been for half a century in the dusty leaves of a long-defunct Antipodean periodical. It has been touched by only one hand during all that time. Some twenty years ago, my lamented friend, Marcus Clarke, the late eminent Australian novelist, discovered it in the course of his researches into the early convict life of the colonies, and made it the subject of an admirable essay in a Melbourne journal, the concluding paragraph of which I have quoted as the motto of this book. Jorgenson's romantic and eventful career, the facts of which are attested by many independent and thoroughly trustworthy witnesses, is one of the most striking confirmations of the trite saying that truth is stranger than fiction. The most daring and unconventional of novelists would never dream of crowding into the life of a hero of the circulating libraries such a rapid succession of extraordinary adventures as actually befell this Anglo-Danish fortune-seeker in the nineteenth century. The apex of his adventurous career was reached when, through a combination of circumstances that he had never anticipated, he found himself elevated to the position of an autocrat in Iceland, the sovereign of a little Arctic kingdom. Excessive modesty was never one of his characteristics, yet he touches but comparatively lightly on this crowning episode in his autobiography, and therefore it may be well to supplement his narrative with some explanatory details of the Icelandic revolution from the recollections of trustworthy eye-witnesses. The most distinguished of these was the late Sir William Jackson Hooker, the eminent botanist and Director of the Royal Gardens at Kew. As a young man of twenty-four, enthusiastic in the study of his favourite science, and ambitious of making some original contributions to the world's knowledge of the flora and the natural wonders of Iceland, Sir William sailed with Jorgenson to the Arctic seas, and was a disinterested spectator of the series of events that culminated in his companion's assuming the authority of king of that northern island. In his "Tour of Iceland," published by Messrs. Longmans and John Murray in two volumes, Sir William embodied a complete, a graphic, and a thoroughly impartial account of the whole singular transaction. By reason of its isolation and the severity of its climate, Iceland has at all times been under the necessity of drawing a large portion of its food supplies from the ports of its parent state, Denmark. Therefore it was that, during the war between Great Britain and Denmark in 1809, the unfortunate Icelanders were threatened with famine, owing to the suspension of the customary supplies. In this emergency, Mr. Phelps, a leading London merchant, saw an opportunity of combining philanthropy and profit. He resolved to come to the relief of the distressed Icelanders, and at the same time to do some good business for himself. Accordingly he freighted the Clarence at Liverpool with barley-meal, potatoes, salt, tobacco, sugar, coffee, etc., calculating on receiving in exchange a large and valuable quantity of Icelandic produce, particularly tallow. But, for

the success of his enterprise, it was necessary that somebody acquainted with the Danish language, manners and customs, should go out with the ship to act as intermediary and facilitate trade. Jorgenson, who was then in London on parole as a prisoner of war, offered himself for this post and was accepted by Mr. Phelps. At this time Jorgenson was only in his twenty-eighth year, but he had already gone through a succession of stirring experiences in South Africa, Australia, Van Diemen's Land and the Pacific Islands. He had acquired a thorough knowledge of navigation in British ships, and when he revisited his native Denmark after ten years' absence, he was called upon to obey a decree commanding all Danes between the ages of eighteen and fifty to serve their country in the war against Great Britain. In pursuance of this decree, Jorgenson was appointed to the command of a privateer of twenty-eight guns, called the Admiral Juul, and off Flamborough Head he fell in with the British manof-war Sappho. An action of forty-one minutes ensued and terminated in Jorgenson's defeat and the striking of his colours. He was landed at Yarmouth, taken to London, and liberated on parole. Such was his position when he started for Iceland as a representative of Mr. Phelps, without going through the formality of asking the permission of the British Government. When the Clarence arrived at Iceland, such was the anti-English hostility of the ruling Danish powers, that she was at first refused permission to land any portion of her cargo, notwithstanding the dire straits to which many of the inhabitants were reduced. But the people soon insisted on the provisions being brought ashore, and the authorities were reluctantly compelled to acquiesce. Having landed his cargo and left an officer in charge to regulate its sale, Jorgenson brought the Clarence back to England, and a second expedition was then planned by Mr. Phelps, who was now so interested in the venture that he resolved to proceed to Iceland himself. The Margaret and Anne, a splendid ship carrying ten guns, was rapidly loaded, and sailed for Iceland with Mr. Phelps, Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Hooker, and Jorgenson on board. When they arrived, they found the authorities, in spite of the recent agreement, doing their utmost to prevent the people from entering into trade relations with the English, and scattering broadcast a proclamation threatening death to any Icelander who should so offend. As a result of this proclamation, although it was the season when strangers from the country districts crowded into the capital, Reikevig, for the purposes of barter, none of that class were now to be seen. Mr. Phelps paused for a few days to survey the situation, and then, finding that the authorities were stubbornly resolved not to listen to reason, decisive measures were taken to end the deadlock. Count Tramp, the Danish governor, was seized on a Sunday afternoon and taken under an armed escort on board the Margaret and Anne with not the slightest attempt at a rescue, or the

least evidence of displeasure, on the part of a number of Icelanders who witnessed his arrest and deposition. Jorgenson, who had played a leading part in this bloodless revolution, promptly entered into possession of Government House, installed himself as head of the state, and commenced his rocket-like career as a miniature Napoleon of the North.* Jorgenson's first proclamation was dated June 26, 1809, and its opening clause decreed the total abolition of Danish authority in Iceland from that day forth. All Danish officers and persons connected with Danish mercantile houses were strictly enjoined to remain within doors and hold no verbal or written communication with each other. Fire-arms, cutlasses, daggers, ammunition, and the keys of all public and private storehouses were ordered to be delivered up at once. "Should these orders be speedily executed," said the dictator, "it will save a great deal of unnecessary trouble and the effusion of blood. But on the contrary, should any person act in opposition to what is here directed, he shall immediately be arrested, brought before a military tribunal, and shot within two hours after the offence is committed." Finally the native Icelanders were assured that they had nothing to fear from the revolution, that they would be treated in the best possible manner, that nothing but the true welfare of their country was in view, and that "our proceedings are solely calculated to insure a peace and happiness little known to the inhabitants in later years." This was speedily followed by a second proclamation declaring Iceland free and independent, and constituting a representative body to legislate for the country. All public officers of Icelandic birth were promised a continuance of their salaries in full on taking the oath of fidelity in the execution of their respective functions. Under the new order of things Iceland would be at peace with all nations, and Great Britain would become its protector. Proclamation the third was couched in these truly regal terms: — "Reikevig, June 29, 1809. "We are informed that certain evil-minded people have propagated false reports in the country, and have represented to the inhabitants that it is dangerous to travel from place to place, and that much blood has been spilled in the streets of Reikevig by the English. The inhabitants need not be under any apprehension, but may rest assured that no violence will be committed against them, and that they are at full liberty to follow their lawful occupations, without molestation; and it is hereby declared that all such rumours are entirely without foundation. All persons that do or shall hereafter spread such false reports shall be deemed enemies to the State, and it will be necessary to treat all such people, who do not demean themselves as peaceable citizens, with the utmost severity. "JORGEN JORGENSON." A fourth proclamation, under date July 1, 1809, was called forth by a

prevalent belief that Jorgenson had decreed a total exemption from the payment of debts. "It is hereby declared," he explains, "that only such debt is remitted which is due to the King of Denmark or to such Danish mercantile houses whose principals are not residents of Iceland." The fifth proclamation was the final and decisive one. It set the seal on the revolution, and was a sort of Napoleonic coup-d'état in miniature. It commenced in these terms: — "Reikevig, July 11, 1809. "In our proclamation, dated the 26th of June, 1809, it was requested that the nearest districts should within a fortnight, and the more distant within a certain limited time, send in representatives to consult as to what was best to be done in the present exigency. We find, however, that the public officers have far from facilitated such a meeting; and we are therefore under the necessity of no longer resisting the wish of the people, who have earnestly solicited us to manage the administration of public affairs, and who have in hundreds offered to serve in the defence of their country. It is therefore declared, "That we, Jorgen Jorgenson, have undertaken the management of public affairs, under the name of PROTECTOR, with full power to make war or conclude peace with foreign powers. "That the military have nominated us their commander by land and sea, and to regulate the whole military department in the country. "That the great seal of the island shall no longer be respected, but that all public documents of consequence shall be signed by my own hand, and my seal (J.J.) fixed thereunto. "That the Icelandic flag shall be blue, with three white stock-fish thereon, and the honour of it we promise to defend at the risk of our life and blood. "That we have seen with the greatest satisfaction that the Icelandic clergy, as good Christians, have promoted tranquillity and good order at this dangerous period; therefore, we promise to pay all their salaries and pensions to clergymen's widows, and also to improve their present situation as much as possible. "That we declare and promise to lay down our office the moment that the representatives shall be assembled. The time appointed for the convocation of the assembly is the 1st of July, 1810, and we will then resign, when a proper and suitable constitution shall be agreed upon, and it is declared that the poor and the common people shall have an equal share in the government with the rich and the powerful. "The situation we now are in requires that we should not suffer the least disrespect to our person, neither that anyone should transgress the least article of this our proclamation, which has solely in view the welfare of the inhabitants of this island. We therefore solemnly declare that the first who shall attempt to disturb the prosperity or common

tranquillity of the country shall instantly suffer death without benefit of the civil law. "All sentences and acts of condemnation must be signed by us before they can be executed. "JORGEN JORGENSON." Count Tramp, the deposed Danish Governor, in his official statement drawn up for the information of the British Government, declared that "a new order of things, presenting to view all the miseries that can spring from boundless despotism, was forced upon an innocent people, loyal and faithful to their king." But the events that followed Jorgenson's assumption of supreme authority in Iceland do not corroborate this serious allegation of his predecessor in power. On the contrary, they tend to show that the revolution was popular on the whole, and that the native Icelanders were unfeignedly rejoiced to be relieved from the tyrannies and exactions of the Danish merchants, whose opposition to English traders visiting the island was dictated by a selfish desire to keep up outrageous prices and maintain the monopoly they had so long enjoyed.* Sir William Hooker and the other English eye-witnesses agree in testifying that public business proceeded as usual after Jorgenson had made himself king, that the various governmental officers were paid their salaries punctually, that there were no resignations of any importance by way of protest against the new order of things, that many of the Icelanders offered their services as soldiers to uphold Jorgenson's authority, and that the bishop and clergy in synod expressed their satisfaction with the altered situation, declared their willingness to support the new reigning authority, and signed a pastoral letter exhorting all their people to imitate their example. Having established his authority in the capital, Reikevig, Jorgenson made a modestly regal progress through the country districts, where he apparently was honoured with every mark of popular favour. In the manuscript account of this provincial tour, preserved in the British Museum, Jorgenson says: — "I travelled by land from the south to the north and the east, accompanied by only five natives, for I needed none to guard me. Everywhere I was received with the greatest cordiality, and I soundly rested in the hospitable hut without fear or danger. The natives regarded me as a real friend and well-wisher of their country. I found many of them suffering under grievous impositions and oppressions, and I speedily redressed all their grievances, established freedom everywhere, and abolished the tyrannous practices that had previously prevailed. After visiting all the northern and eastern ports, I returned to the south with my little escort, and if my rule had not been popular, I might have been easily seized when asleep, but as a matter of fact I was everywhere welcomed with cheerful countenances by the assembled natives. At one important town in the north, where a number of Danish military officers and factors resided, not the slightest demonstration of hostility was made against me, for they were afraid of the inhabitants, who all flocked around me, gave me a cordial greeting, and earnestly besought me to remedy the various grievances under which they had long been groaning." On returning to Reikevig, fortified by the evident popularity of his rule in the provinces, and thinking himself firmly seated in the saddle, Jorgenson proceeded to vigorously execute his decree for the confiscation of all Danish property on the island. The measures he sanctioned in furtherance of this object were, beyond all doubt, exceedingly harsh and ruinous to individuals, but like all other usurpers Jorgenson felt the urgent necessity of reducing to impotence the enemy within the gates. Not only was all the property contained in the Danish shops and warehouses seized and removed, but all the Danish vessels in the harbours, with their cargoes, were captured and manned by Jorgenson's guards. This work of destroying Danish influence in the island, and confiscating Danish property in every shape and form, was still in progress when the revolution was summarily arrested by the unexpected arrival of the British sloop of war, Talbot, commanded by the Hon. Alexander Jones. Count Tramp, the deposed governor, who had been kept in close confinement on board the Margaret and Anne for a period of nine weeks, succeeded in acquainting the British commander with the treatment to which he had been subjected, and gave him an alarming account of Jorgenson's doings; the despoiled Danish merchants also poured their grievances into the sympathetic ear of Captain Jones, and besought him to check the wild and wilful career of the audacious usurper. Acting on these representations, the commander of the Talbot officially communicated with Mr. Phelps, whom he regarded as the primary and chief instigator of recent revolutionary events, the Warwick, the King-maker of Iceland. Mr. Phelps replied with a brief statement of the reasons (summarised in a previous page) that impelled him to the deposition of the Danish governor. This statement was deemed far from satisfactory by Captain Jones, and, as it seemed to him that the honour of England was involved in the matter, he issued a peremptory letter to Mr. Phelps that had the effect of overturning the throne of King Jorgenson and closing a remarkable chapter in the modern history of Iceland. In this decisive communication the British commander severely observed: "I also conceive it my duty to acquaint you that, from your not having any other authority that I am aware of, besides being owner of a letter of marque, you appear to me to have far exceeded that authority by taking on you the government of an island not actually considered hostile to Great Britain, the wretched state of whose inhabitants His Majesty has been graciously pleased so far to relieve in winter as to grant licenses to

you, and even to the enemies of Great Britain, to support them. You have, in my opinion, not only transgressed the laws of Great Britain, but of all nations, by assuming an authority which no subject of any realm whatever can have a right to — namely, that of declaring the island free, neutral, independent, and at peace with all nations, and of appointing a Governor who is not a British subject, but a Dane, who has been an apprentice on board an English collier, who served his time as a midshipman in His Majesty's navy, who afterwards fought against Great Britain, and was made a prisoner by an English ship of war. I understand he has issued, with your sanction, proclamations signed in a regal manner, (`We, Jorgen Jorgenson,'); besides which he has, in sight of His Majesty's ship under my command, hoisted a flag as yet unknown, and he is at this moment employed in erecting a battery within musket-shot without my permission, and even without having consulted me on the subject, which is not only taking up arms against his own country (Denmark) but a disrespect to my pendant. I feel myself called upon therefore to notice his conduct, which no attachment or zeal Mr. Jorgenson may have for Great Britain can countenance, neither would it, I am sure, meet with the approbation of the British Government. I now most earnestly recommend, either that you do not leave the whole power in the island in the hands of Mr. Jorgenson alone (however qualified or respectable his character may be) until His Majesty's pleasure is known, or that you immediately restore the former mode of government, giving the supreme command to some of the most respectable of the inhabitants of the island. Having thus, according to my duty, acquainted you with my sentiments, and pointed out the line of conduct that I conceive you, as a British subject, ought to adopt, I shall not interfere farther than by requesting to be acquainted with your future intentions, for the information of the Right Honourable the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty. You are wrong in supposing that I wish to cast any stain upon your character, either as an Englishman or a man of honour, nor can I believe you would intentionally commit an act which would reflect disgrace upon the British Government. I am also far from doubting the word of Mr. Jorgenson, or from throwing any reflections either on his former situation, his character or conduct; but his not possessing any written document to certify that he has permission from the British Government to be on this island, and his having appeared on board His Majesty's ship under my command in the undress uniform of a postcaptain, oblige me to insist on his immediate return to Great Britain, unless you can satisfy me that you have permission to bring him here." Mr. Phelps was unable to give the requisite satisfaction to the British Commander, and, as Jorgenson was not prepared to fight against England in defence of his throne, he had no other alternative than to abdicate. An agreement was entered into by all the parties concerned, by which the

Government of Iceland was temporarily entrusted to the hands of its two most influential residents (the Chief Justice and the Sheriff of the Western county), who accepted the responsibility of guarding the persons and property of all British subjects on the island. The ex-king and the deposed Danish Governor then sailed for London in different ships, the former to justify his action in gratuitously enrolling himself amongst the reigning monarchs, and the latter to ventilate his grievances before the British Government. On the third day of the voyage, the vessel that carried the Governor was found to be on fire, and Jorgenson providentially bore up just in time to save all on board from a frightful fate. "We were but too happy," says Sir William Hooker, who was one of the passengers on the doomed vessel, "to escape with our lives and with the clothes upon our backs, and even for this we were in no small degree indebted to the extraordinary exertions of Mr. Jorgenson at a time when nearly the whole of the ship's crew seemed paralysed with fear. He, too, as would be expected by all who knew his character, was the last to quit the burning vessel." When they eventually arrived in London, Jorgenson established himself at his old quarters — the Spread Eagle Inn, Gracechurch Street, and reported himself to the Lords of the Admiralty. Count Tramp, the Danish Governor, lost no time in sending to the same tribunal a furious indictment of the ex-king and a detailed account of all the indignities to which he had been subjected by the orders of the usurper. The original manuscript of the latter is now preserved in the British Museum. The Count had decidedly the best of the argument in the end, for, although he did not succeed in getting all the satisfaction he desired, he was sufficiently placated to gratefully acknowledge that "the peculiar favour which Iceland and its concerns have met with here, and the manner in which His British Majesty's Ministers have interested themselves in its welfare, and above all the security obtained for the future, has entirely obliterated all bitterness from my heart." Poor Jorgenson, on the other hand, was soon arrested, not for the superior and stately crime of having unlawfully made himself king of Iceland, but for the vulgar and common-place offence of having left England without permission whilst he was a prisoner on parole. He was at first confined in Tothill Fields prison and subsequently transferred to the hulks that were moored off Chatham, in which a considerable number of foreign prisoners of war were under temporary detention. Here he had to endure many miseries, privations and disappointments, before he was restored to partial freedom. In the meantime the British Government had issued a proclamation, practically making Iceland neutral territory during the continuance of the war, specifically exempting it from attack, and pledging protection to all ships engaged in direct trade between Iceland and British ports. Sir William Hooker not unreasonably claims that

Jorgenson's coup d'état was thus "the means of placing the island in a greater state of security than formerly," and that it "had opened a way for bettering the condition of its inhabitants." Success or the absence of it is the one standard by which revolutions are judged. Jorgenson's was successful as far as it went, and also in the indirect benefits to the Icelanders that it was chiefly instrumental in bringing about. But, as it was nipped in the bud before Jorgenson could mature his plans or give general effect to his policy, it is impossible to say what sort of a reputation he would have achieved as a ruler had he been permitted to govern the country for a longer period. In his defence in London before the Lords of the Admiralty he stoutly maintained that he had established liberty in Iceland without shedding a drop of blood or committing a single man to prison; further, that he had bestowed all the blessings of free-trade upon the country and opened up the brightest prospects to a long oppressed people. Sir William Hooker, too, states that "among the improvements which it was Mr. Jorgenson's intention to have made in the island, had he been permitted to retain his office, that of bettering the miserable condition of the scholars was not the least meritorious or of the least importance." For his brief butterfly escapade as an unlicensed monarch in Iceland, Jorgenson suffered a severe penalty in the shape of twelve months' close confinement, and, what was far worse than the mere deprivation of liberty, he contracted vicious habits in prison that prejudicially affected the whole of his after-life. He became a confirmed gambler and, after his release, lost every penny he possessed by foolishly frequenting the haunts of the London card-sharpers. He scraped up from the wreck of his affairs sufficient to carry him to Lisbon, and for a time led a romantic existence in Spain and Portugal, being once arrested as a suspicious character by order of General Trant. On returning to Lisbon, he found himself unable to resist the fascination of the gaming-tables and was once again reduced to destitution. By shipping as a common seaman on board a British gun-boat, Jorgenson temporarily placed himself beyond the reach of temptation, and, after having participated in several engagements, he was invalided home. We next get a glimpse of him as the guest of his friend, Sir William Hooker, at Halesworth, in Suffolk, where, amidst rural delights and far removed from the fatal pitfalls of city life, he dwelt for a season in what must have been an atmosphere of strange serenity and calm to such a stormy petrel as he. It was in this secluded spot he wrote his history of the Icelandic revolution. On returning to London he unfortunately fell in with his old evil associates, spent his nights in the gambling dens, was once more plucked of every feather, and found himself eventually in the Fleet prison under arrest for debt. Jorgenson was still a prisoner at the Fleet when the second singular

episode of his life occurred, and a splendid opportunity was afforded him of retrieving his falling fortunes. A Government messenger sought him out one day, and told him he was wanted at the Foreign Office. He hastened to Downing Street, had an interview with a personage high in authority, and accepted service on a secret mission to the Continent. A certain amount of mystery surrounds this suddenly-conceived and rapidly-executed embassy. Jorgenson himself describes its object somewhat vaguely, as an effort "to ascertain what effects the subjugation of the troops of Napoleon was likely to have in advancing the interests of British commerce," but it is certain that he did not confine his inquiries and observations to this ostensible purpose. With his debt discharged and his purse replenished by the Foreign Office, Jorgenson's prospects were now comparatively bright; but, once more, his unfortunate gambling propensities were very nearly proving his ruin. He lost all his ready money, but succeeded by a subterfuge in crossing over from Gravesend to Ostend in the garb of a sailor. Landed on the Continent, he was at liberty to draw on the Foreign Office for his travelling expenses, and having thus re-filled his empty pocket, he pushed on and arrived in time to witness the battle of Waterloo. Proceeding to Paris, he was engaged in diplomatic work there for some time, and apparently acquitted himself satisfactorily, for the Foreign Office entered into a second agreement with him to travel through France and Germany to Warsaw, and make an inquiry into Polish affairs. Just as in London, he could not leave Paris without a farewell visit to his favourite gambling resorts. He had no intention of playing, but the fatal fascination of the scene proved irresistible. He was a winner at first, but the chapter of his Parisian gambling experiences closed by leaving him literally destitute, and a bleak December morn beheld the ex-king quitting the French metropolis on foot, in a very woe-begone condition. For nearly the whole of the period during which he was touring through France and Germany, Jorgenson lived by his wits, and the record of his shifts and subterfuges, his audacities and perplexities, is one of the most amusing in the annals of itinerant vagabondage. It will be found in full in subsequent pages. In the course of his peregrinations, Jorgenson made the acquaintance of the illustrious Goethe, also Marshal Blucher, Niebuhr, Bernstorf, and the Prince Von Muskaw. On returning to London, Jorgenson was favourably received at the Foreign Office, and handsomely rewarded for his diplomatic labours on the Continent, the authorities apparently being wholly unaware of the happy-go-lucky circumstances under which he had fulfilled his mission. Possibly it was a case of good coming out of evil. The fact that he was rendered penniless by his gambling indiscretions, and thereby compelled to travel after the fashion of the pilgrims of old doubtless brought him into contact with a number of useful people, and enabled him to extract a