Sunday, 17th June, 1838

And, as usual, I write that all will be well and immediately, all Hell breaks loose.

"That should be that," I said, after helping Harding with his mail. "A job well done."

Except, of course, that was not that. Indeed, that was very far from that.

We arrived back in Adelaide late on the evening of Saturday last and made our way to Government House. After a warm, comfortable night in our own beds, the next morning I had Strangways draft a letter to Tom Gilbert, the Post Master General, explaining what had happened with the mail so that he could know and understand the circumstances that led to his precious mail bags being opened and resealed. This, I thought, would keep him happy.

And did it? Did it buggery.

Within minutes he was at my door, telling me that he could choose to do nothing other than protest in the strongest terms. As it happened he could have chosen to not make a mountain out of a mole hill and I told him so, but this only seemed to annoy him further. I sent him on his way, telling him not to be impertinent.

Of course, before you could say "Knife in the back", Fisher got involved, huffing and puffing about "the sanctity of the mails" and "the trust of the people". Since then there has been a public meeting and much throwing about of harsh words, all of them making me out to be some combination of sneak thief and tyrant.

The public meeting, called, with admirable bravery, through an anonymous handbill that appeared about the town, though really at the behest of Fisher, was held last Wednesday at the Tavern, where, no doubt, Fisher stood everyone rounds of drinks to get them well soaked and pliable. Indeed, I am told that the attendance at the meeting was sparse and quickly became sparser once the grog ran out. 

David McLaren took the chair with his usual Hibernian gloom, ensuring an evening of hi-jinks and hilarity. Fisher tore up the place, making a speech of such drama that people were moved. Many moved outside and more were moved to laughter.

It seems that the seal of the Royal Mail is sacred and inviolate and yours truly, like the low cad and bounder that I am, broke that seal, apparently in search of pound notes and food parcels.

What Mr Fisher seems unable (or, more likely, unwilling) to understand is that (1) I opened the mail bags reluctantly and at the insistence of Captain Harding that these were exceptional circumstances (2) As the Queen's representative here in the Province I am invested, by law, with the right to open the mail (3) The opening of the bags was conducted by and witnessed by duly appointed Government officials (4) Tom Gilbert has stated that the official tally of letters and papers received at his office corresponded exactly with the memorandum made at the time by the Advocate General. So no harm was done.  

No, the only injury was to Tom Gilbert's sense of self importance and this was, it seems, enough for Fisher to construct a case against me with all the force of a castle in the clouds.

Such nonsense!

What was not nonsense was Stevenson showing me a handbill that had been printed by his underlings while he was travelling with me to Encounter Bay. Material of a seditionary and revolutionary nature!  

Fifty copies of a handbill promoting, the Equality of Man, Women's Rights, the Equality of the Coloured Races and (most shockingly) Free Love Between the Sexes. Naturally, this sort of thing cannot be encouraged and, indeed, must be stamped out before it leads to some unfortunate social upheaval such as that which occurred only recently in Cornwall at Tolpuddle.

The handbill purports to be written by "The Sons of Lee" who are, I am informed, none other than Mary's group of shady artistic youths who meet at Lee's Coffee House. I have spoken to Mary and she tells me that the thing was written by "Endymion", the Gothic looking young man who lurks about the Coffee House.

The thing starts with a few paragraphs concerning "passing judgement on Society" that read like bilgewater to me, but which Mary assures me are "Too deep for an old man to understand".  

It then makes demands of the extra-ordinary nature previously outlined.

I have informed Mary that it is not possible for a child living in Government House to be seen to align herself with ideas of a revolutionary nature and she is to cease her visits to Lee's Coffee House, which has earned me the title of "World's Worst Father" and resulted in me being told that "Only Mr Stephen understands me!"

That outburst led me to a conversation with Milner Stephen, in which I suggested, none too subtly, that it would ill become the occupant of the one of the Chief Legal Offices in the Colony to be associated with a group of youths aiming at Social Reform of an extreme and morally dubious nature. I also suggested that it would be looked on askance if it was thought that he had inculcated such ideas into the mind of an innocent girl for whatever purpose. He was quick to assure me that "whatever purpose" was far from his mind and not to be considered.

I have ordered Stevenson to burn the copies of the handbill and give young Endymion his money back. (I stumped up the few shillings Stevenson was out by) And as for young Endymion I shall do nothing. First, because he is a young man with silly ideas. Second, because I blame his parents more than him. And third, because if I have him dragged before the court on a charge of sedition I may find Mary being dragged in as well and that will not do.

With luck, we need never speak of this again and no-one need ever know of this.