I was anxious to meet Old Wiseman, but did not know quite how to set about it. He was known to be most hospitable to people he knew, but rather eccentric with strangers, as I was told by Capt. McCumming. However, chance favoured me. As I approached the house, I found a number of men standing there together and, when I came up to them, I asked after Crawford’s Inn. An elderly man pointed the way, but added: ‘You seem to be a stranger in these parts; if you care to accept the hospitality of my house, I would be able to make you more comfortable there after a long day’s journey.’ I thanked him and accepted, and asked whether I had the pleasure of speaking to Mr Wiseman. He confirmed this and asked me whether I were not the Baron who had come on the Alligator, and I confirmed this...

After the meal, Old Wiseman came back and asked me if I required anything further. I answered him, nothing whatsoever, except that, if it did not keep him away from some other better entertainment, I would appreciate his company. Sit down, I said, and let us talk a little about the colony. The old man stood still for a moment, then he said: ‘You are a stranger, I would not like to deceive you. I am an emancipist.’ ‘I know that,’ I replied. ‘I knew that when I came into your home, and when I accept a man’s hospitality, his company must needs be agreeable to me too.’

Wiseman: Not everyone thinks as you do. A lot of people are pleased to accept Old Wiseman’s comfortable rooms and stay a few days in this beautiful district, but avoid and despise Wiseman himself.

Myself: I can’t believe that. You are probably imagining things. I know your house is a favourite place for young couples to spend their honeymoon.

Wiseman: Yes, one couple spent their honeymoon here—Mr [Deas] Thomson after he married Miss Bourke… I arranged an apartment for him in my house as best I could and, on the day of the marriage, he arrived here in the evening. But we can’t really speak very highly about the way in which our hospitality was received. The young wife did not address a single word to us during her whole stay here, and when they left, and Mrs Wiseman wished her a pleasant journey, she turned her head away without replying and did not even wave as they drove away…

I could cite a number of other instances of this kind… and I therefore keep my children away when I have reason to fear a humiliation for them. You must pardon me (he said with deep emotion) if perhaps I do not use the right words or am less polite to you than I should be. But I am a seaman and paid little attention to fine manners in my youth, and you don’t learn them here.

Ah! This was another Wiseman, a man of sensitivity, of feeling, and those contradictory images started to come into focus. So much made sense now: his quickness to anger, his defensiveness, his single-minded pursuit of wealth. This was a man who—day after day, year after year—had to deal with the humiliation of being despised as an ‘emancipist’ and mocked by the likes of Atkins and Therry. This was a man who, even though he had made good on the other side of the world, could not escape the English class system. I warmed to the Baron for treating Wiseman with courtesy, and for leaving such a long and vivid account of him for me to read.