The Convicts' Letter to the Bible Society
This post is part of the Blogging from A to Z Challenge (#AtoZChallenge), where I’m
exploring historical newspaper clippings—one story at a time—through my series
“Behind the Newsprint.”
A formal letter dated 30 January 1816, written by a group of
35 convicts aboard the Ocean, appeared in the Christian Herald and
Seaman’s Magazine,[i]
an evangelical periodical associated with the expanding religious print culture
of the early nineteenth century.[ii]
Addressed to the British and Foreign Bible Society, it offers a rare collective
voice from men in transit to New South Wales.
News clipping of a
letter written by 35 Convicts, written in 1816
The letter is striking in both tone and polish. It expresses
gratitude for Bibles and religious instruction provided during the voyage and
describes a remarkable transformation in behaviour among the prisoners.
I first came across this letter while researching several
men on board, including my fourth great-grandfather, William Carbis Snr, his
son William Carbis, and his son-in-law Francis Basset. They are among the
earliest of my ancestors to arrive in Australia, and for much of my family’s
history, this connection to convict transportation was unknown.
At first glance, it feels like an extraordinary glimpse of
convict life at sea, not of hardship or disorder, but of reform.
What It Suggests
The letter presents the Ocean as a kind of floating
moral experiment.
According to its authors, a shipboard school had been
established through the efforts of Reverend John Youl, with the support of
Captain Johnston. Through this instruction and the distribution of Bibles and
Testaments, the atmosphere on board was said to have been transformed. “Many
oaths,” they wrote, had been turned into prayers, and “the worst songs into
hymns of praise.”
There had been opposition at first, particularly from what
they described as “thoughtless convicts,” but this resistance was overcome
through perseverance. The overall impression is one of order, improvement, and
religious awakening; a community reshaped through faith.
It is, in essence, a success story.
Looking Closer
When we place this letter alongside other accounts of the
voyage, a more complicated picture begins to emerge.
Surgeon Edward Foord Bromley, who oversaw the convicts
during the journey, later gave formal evidence before a British parliamentary
inquiry into prisons and convict transportation.[iii]
Recorded in official reports to the House of Commons, his testimony reflects
not a narrative of simple transformation, but one of management and control.
His account reveals a regime that was structured and, at
times, strict. While he emphasised health and hygiene, enforcing early morning
bathing in tropical heat and fumigating the prison quarters, he also described
ongoing issues with theft and gambling among the men. Discipline, though
relatively restrained, was still present: corporal punishment was used early in
the voyage, and other offences were managed through penalties such as the
withdrawal of wine rations.
Alongside this, a third voice appears in the official
correspondence of Governor Lachlan Macquarie, who recorded the ship’s arrival
in early 1816.[iv] His
account is brief and administrative, noting little beyond the safe arrival of
the Ocean and describing Reverend John Youl as a “very great
acquisition” to the colony. There is no mention of a moral transformation among
the convicts.
Set beside one another, these accounts — the convicts’
letter, the surgeon’s testimony, and the governor’s report — do not contradict
each other outright, but they illuminate very different aspects of the same
voyage.
What Lies Behind It
The convicts’ letter is not necessarily untrue — but it is
shaped.
It reflects a moment where religious reform, discipline, and
authority intersected. The improvements described may well have been real, at
least for some. But the language and tone of the letter closely align with the
aims and expectations of the British and Foreign Bible Society, to whom it was
addressed.
By contrast, Bromley’s testimony was shaped by a different
context: one of official scrutiny and accountability. His focus was not
spiritual success, but order, health, and discipline. Macquarie’s brief report,
in turn, reflects administrative priorities — what mattered to the colonial
government.
These accounts were also produced at a time when convict
transportation itself was under increasing scrutiny. Conditions on convict
ships, the treatment of prisoners, and the possibility of reform were all being
actively questioned. Bromley’s testimony formed part of a wider parliamentary
effort to investigate what was really happening on these voyages, an
acknowledgement that the system was not always as straightforward, or as
successful, as it might appear in print.
Each account is therefore shaped not only by perspective but by purpose.
Rather than a single, unified story, what emerges is a
layered one. The Ocean was at once a site of attempted reform, of
enforced discipline, and of bureaucratic record. The convicts’ voices form part
of that story, but not the whole of it.
Reflection
This letter is a reminder that even when historical sources
appear to give us direct access to otherwise unheard voices, those voices are
rarely unmediated.
Here, three different kinds of records survive: a collective
letter shaped for a religious audience, formal testimony given under
parliamentary scrutiny, and a brief administrative report. Each presents a
version of events, but each is framed by its own purpose and expectations.
Newspapers and printed accounts, particularly those tied to
reform movements, do not simply record experience; they interpret and present
it. What reaches us is not just what happened, but what was considered
meaningful, persuasive, or worth preserving.
I first came across this letter while researching several
men on board, including my fourth great-grandfather, William Carbis Snr, his
son William Carbis, and his son-in-law Francis Basset. They are among the
earliest of my ancestors to arrive in Australia, and for much of my family’s
history, this connection to convict transportation was unknown.
I do not know whether any of my ancestors were among the 35 men who signed the letter. Their individual voices are lost to me. Yet the letter itself remains, something like an echo, carrying fragments of experience across time, allowing us to glimpse what life on board might have been.
Further reads:
For those interested in learning more about William Carbis Snr, his son William Carbis, and his
son-in-law Francis Basset
see their profiles on WikiTree.
[i] Christian
Herald and Seaman's Magazine, Volume 4 1816
Page 218 https://www.google.com.au/books/edition/Christian_Herald_and_Seaman_s_Magazine/43M3AAAAMAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=rev.%20youl&pg=RA1-PA218&printsec=frontcover
[ii] Kate
Tilson (26 May 2024): Religion, Disease and Cultural Difference on the Voyage
from Britain to the South Pacific in the Early Nineteenth Century, Cultural and
Social History, DOI: 10.1080/14780038.2024.2360103 (accessed https://doi.org/10.1080/14780038.2024.2360103
; 29 March 2026)
[iii]
Selection of Reports and Papers of the House of Commons, Prisons ; [1] · Volume
51. 1836., extract of evidence given by E.F. Bromley M.D. (7 April), page 105
(accessed at https://www.google.com.au/books/edition/Selection_of_Reports_and_Papers_of_the_H/ZCRDAAAAcAAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=general%20hewitt%201814%20OR%20convict&pg=RA2-PA104&printsec=frontcover
: 29 march 2026)
[iv]
Free Settle or Felon website, https://www.freesettlerorfelon.com/,
citing Historical records of Australia (HRA), Series 1[Governors' despatches to
and from England.], Vol. IX, (January 1816-December 1818) published 1917,
p.97
