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Updated: May 29, 2025
I shall content myself with relating one incident only of this period. In the January of my last year I went with a party of young men and girls to stay over Sunday at Beverly Farms, where Mrs. Fremantle a young Boston matron had opened her cottage for the occasion.
At length, on one of these excursions, the seaman Charles Woods, one of my party, was found by Mr. Spofforth, lying on the beach, wrapped in his blanket and fast asleep. He soon awoke and was not a little delighted to recognise Mr. Spofforth whom he had seen before at Fremantle.
But his defence of Calder did not close with Fremantle, for in a letter to his brother soon after he got home he says, "We must now talk of Sir Robert Calder. I might not have done so much with my small force. If I had fallen in with them, you might probably have been a lord before I wished; for I know they meant to make a dead set at the Victory."
A common soldier, sent on a message from Perth to Fremantle, happened to get off the track. Becoming alarmed, he tried to recover it, but as it had made a bend, he walked as far as he thought its position ought to be, without success, and then fancied he must have mistaken the direction.
A few nights later Jacobsen was working it and asked me to put a question. To oblige him I inquired on what day we should reach Fremantle, the port of Perth. It wrote an answer which, I may remark, subsequently proved to be quite correct. "That is not a good question," said Jacobsen, "since as a sailor I might guess the reply. Try again, Mr. Arbuthnot."
Two miles from Fremantle, up the river, there is a ferry across to Perth, the seat of government and capital of the colony, which is well situated, the river extending into a broad sheet, named Melville Waters, in front of the town. Here is good brick-earth and garden-ground, and near the town there are some tolerable farms.
Louis spent glowering days. Marcella was quite certain that everything would turn out well. It was in the dull run between Colombo and Fremantle that they decided upon a plan of action. The nights were getting colder now; they had to sit in thick coats in the evenings.
"Rupert, where is Rumple?" asked Nealie, coming on deck one afternoon a day or two before they expected to reach Fremantle. "I haven't an idea. Come to think of it, I have not seen him since breakfast. Where can the young rascal have got to?" exclaimed Rupert, starting up in dismay.
It was nearly the end of August when we approached the conclusion of our voyage. The wind was fair, the sun shone brightly, and every heart was gay with the hope of once more being upon land. We drew nigh to the Island of Rottnest, about sixteen miles from the mouth of the river Swan, and anchored to the north of it, waiting for a pilot from Fremantle.
On the north it has great pearl fisheries; inland it has goldfields, which take second rank in the world's list, and it is fast developing its agricultural and pastoral riches. Very soon it will be possible to leave the steamer at Fremantle and go by train right across the continent to the Eastern cities.
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