Undated Note, written aboard the H.M.S. Alligator

Well now, here I am in my Cabin on board H.M.S. Alligator, 28 guns, built of Teak. Atholl class I believe.

Having sailed down the coast and having cleared Kangaroo Island and rounded Cape Jarvis we are currently staying in sight of land, heading roughly South East. If I had some official position aboard ship I would be recording these details with far greater accuracy, but I am a passenger and hence, for about the first time in forty years, do not bother.

Leaving Adelaide was a surprisingly moving and touching affair. In the morning I made my goodbyes to the family and I draw a veil of privacy over that scene. Suffice it to say that even Mary overcame her sulks to wish me farewell. 

A Big Yellow Phaeton

The Stevensons arrived with their horse and cart, painted yellow. Johnny called out to his Mother: "A big yellow phaeton's come to take away the old man!" 

I hugged him and said "Ah Johnny! Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got till it's gone!"

We formed up a small procession on North Terrace: Mrs Hindmarsh and I with the Stevensons in their carriage; the children in our carriage behind; and the Marines in a cart behind them.

We set off and were surprised to find ourselves being followed by more and more carriages as we proceeded down North Terrace and onto West Terrace. By the time we turned on to the Bay Road to cross the Park Lands we were quite the pageant.

The journey down to Holdfast Bay was most pleasant. It was a mild day and the trip through the Black Forest, under the mix of grey-box, blue gum, red gum, native pines and sheoak trees, was delightful. I said to Mrs Hindmarsh that this was the first time I had made the journey without official business playing on my mind and it was a novelty to be able to just enjoy the trip. 

When we arrived at Glenelg our procession was met by a group of people, all cheering and waving. Mrs Hindmarsh made the apposite comment that "Half of them are here to wish you well and half to make sure you get on the boat." While I agree with the sentiment, I would have hoped for a more personally advantageous ratio.

When our procession pulled up at the landing site I found myself called upon by the assembled throng to make a speech. I stood up in the Phaeton and spoke extempore.

"Friends," I said, bringing forth cheers, "And I call you friends because I feel I know you too well to call you Ladies and Gentlemen, I leave you now and who knows If we will meet again or not? But I leave you, confident in the knowledge that I have done all I could to set this Province on the path to a future of prosperity. Do I have advice for you?"

Here, I was interrupted by a wit who called out "Of course you do, you old windbag!" which, only a day before would have been a great discourtesy. But since I was now just a sailor and no longer a Governor, I could laugh along with the joke and even join in with it.

"Yes, of course I do," I said smartly, "And perhaps simpletons such as yourself might profit by it!" which brought forth laughter and applause.

"Friends," I said. "I offer you three pieces of advice. First, work hard and work together. Second, never be afraid to ask for help. And third, be kind to the Natives. I am convinced that we will do best if we learn to live with them as brothers and as men."

I finished to general acclaim and cries of "Good Old Governor Hindmarsh!"

And then it was time to board. Having already made my farewells to the family there was no need for much more than a simple goodbye. But the assembled throng pressed forward to offer me their best wishes for the journey. Some offered small gifts or parcels of food for the voyage.

Then I was amazed to see the Marines, with a startling military efficiency and flair, leap down from their cart, smartly form up into ranks and then march down to the landing point and form up into a Guard of Honour for my leaving. The orderly and even elegant manner in which they managed this manoeuvre left me with the suspicion that they could have performed with such precision all along, but just chose not to.

I proceeded through the guard of honour, stepped into the waiting cutter and within minutes was on board the Alligator.

And that was that.

So here I am, aboard ship with a personal guard of the Marines, who accompany me, and a voyage, first to Sydney and then to London, waiting for me. And, for a miracle, I am a passenger on board and not an officer or part of the crew and so have the delightful prospect of putting my feet up, complaining and making a nuisance of myself.

I intend passing the time by correcting this diary and I have set myself the challenge of reading Walter Scott's "The Fortunes of Nigel", a book that has sat on my bedside for a year and a half. I have read the first two chapters three times so far, but it is my intention to finish the damn thing by the time I reach London.

Was I a good Governor? It is a thought that has occupied my mind these past few weeks. 
Looking back, I am not aware of a single instance in which my public actions have been other than calm in themselves and the result of careful deliberation. Certainly London seems to agree. I have had a communication from Lord Glenelg telling me that my recall is "without censure" and that his confidence in me "is such as to lead the Home Government to offer without delay another appointment.”

Fisher, it must be said, spent the past week or so strutting about claiming he had "won" and even had the nerve to offer me his condolences at my failure. But what has he won? His reputation seems to be irrevocably damaged in London. The power and influence he has so assiduously accrued is about to be taken away from him. He is distrusted by a fair proportion of the colonists. And he has the pleasure of dealing with Mr Milner Stephens as Governor and does so in a society which, as much as I am fond of it, must be admitted to lack many of the rudiments of a comfortable civilised life.

Whereas I am heading back to the centre of the civilised world, a wealthy man and with my reputation enhanced. A strange sort of victory for Mr Fisher, where the vanquished is condemned to a life of luxury!

Well, the lot of them be damned!

The reasons that led me to govern Adelaide the way I did, I do not expect to be generally understood or calmly judged of at present. I leave it to posterity to decide whether I am entitled to praise or to blame.

And in the meantime, I look forward to London, where I believe the first thing I shall do is something I have long promised myself if ever I had the money and be measured for a new suit at Ede and Sons. And then, I think, I shall go to St James, where, I believe a new Army and Navy Club has been established under the patronage of Wellington. I shall order the most sumptuous dinner they have on offer and, breaking my usual abstention from wines, order their finest bottle and offer a toast to the worthies of South Australia.