Roger Webster tells how our Aussie visitors for the World Cup could easily have been here all along

We go back to the 1840s, when Sir Harry Smith was governor of the Cape Colony. His popularity of late had waned because many felt that the battle of Boomplaats against the Boers, and the proclaiming of the Orange River sovereignty had been unnecessary, for the Boers still had friends and families in the colony.

Secondly, the policy of no pay for the Eastern Cape farmers who served in Her Majesty's numerous frontier wars, leaving their loved ones unprotected on the farms, was no longer acceptable. These and other matters contributed to a growing political movement for self-government at the Cape, led, to a large degree, by prominent settlers of British origin.

In this social climate came another piece of bad news. A despatch arrived in 1848 from the colonial secretary, Lord Grey, stating that the Cape was to be included in those places to which British ticket-of-leave convicts or prisoners on parole would be sent.

In a private letter to Sir Harry, Lord Grey stated that the British government faced the problem of ridding Britain of Irish political offenders and that it was not possible to send them to Bermuda, New South Wales or Van Diemen's Land. Grey here conveniently ignored the fact that the social structure at the Cape was far more complicated and potentially explosive than in New South Wales or Van Diemen's Land.

Sir Harry, in turn, did not foresee that Britain's sending political convicts to the colony would be problematic, although he was against the idea of the Cape becoming a permanent penal settlement for ordinary felons. He was under the impression that the Cape legislative council would not be opposed to having these "misguided" people as settlers in the colony.

He could not have been more wrong. The council was furious, and heated debate ensued. Sir Harry, seeing that he was not going to get his way, shouted angrily at the members. "Be careful, or some of us may subject ourselves to the same pains and penalties which these gentleman of Ireland have incurred, and a passage for us be found to some other country," he said.

It was the duty of the Cape, he went on, "to help the mother country, as she has helped the Cape in the past". The legislature, however, was not going to be bullied. Mr JB Ebden, in particular, was vociferous. Local newspapers, such as the South African Commercial Advertiser, carried angry editorials.

In November and December 1848, the colonists occupied themselves with drawing up and signing petitions. Two were completed in Cape Town, with one being sent to the Queen; the other to the Earl Grey. A third was sent from Grahamstown. Smith informed Grey in no uncertain terms that the people of the colony would not hear of this plan and, should the convicts be sent to Cape Town, the colonists would see to it that they be abandoned on Robben Island.

Yet Sir Harry found himself in a difficult position. He could not defy an order from his superiors, but if the convicts were sent, he would completely fall from grace within the colony. On February 8 1849, The Neptune sailed from England with 300 convicts on board, headed for Bermuda. There, another 286 were taken on board and The Neptune set sail for The Cape of Good Hope. As the argument of the Colonial Office went, those on board were Irish peasants who had been driven to crime by famine and they were unlikely to repeat their crimes in a new environment.

Rumours of their approach began to spread in the colony. A resistance movement known as the Anti-Convict Committee (later known as the Anti-Convict Association) sprang up. Protest meetings were held. Prominent businessmen such as John Fairburn and JB Ebden became leaders of the movement and their influence reached as far as the British Houses of Parliament.

In the furthest corners of the colony, men were being urged to join up and sign the pledge. It stated that any person who had anything to do with landing, supporting in any form, or offering employment to any convicts from the Neptune would be placed under a complete social and commercial ban by the members of the anti-convict movement. This could, and in some cases did, mean ruin for those Cape merchants unwary, humane or just plain greedy enough to assist the authorities with supplies for the convicts.

It is worth noting that Cape Town had not stirred a finger in the 60-year period during which 150000 convicts had passed Table Bay on their way to Van Diemen's Land and New South Wales in Australia.

But things changed one September morning in 1849, when the Neptune cast her anchor in Table Bay. The fire-alarms were sounded, the church bells tolled, and the infuriated populace turned out en masse to watch the ship arrive, like some leper at their door, with its cargo of 286 convicts.

Earlier that year, in June, the ship Hashemy, had faced a similar scene in Sydney harbour in Australia, where thousands prevented the convicts from disembarking and called upon Governor Fitzroy to send his cargo of crimes back to England. Cape Town now faced a similar situation. Sir Harry was filled with panic and ordered that no one was to disembark until clarification had been obtained from London. The Neptune lifted anchor and sailed around peninsular to wait off Simon's Town.

However, unknown to Cape residents, a momentous speech had been delivered in the House of Commons on the evening of March 27 1849. After Benjamin Disraeli, leader of the opposition (and future prime minister) had sat down, Charles Bowyer Adderley, a 35-year-old millionaire member for North Staffordshire, rose in support. "I am the spokesman," he said, "for those who desire to see this great country act worthily of her great destiny as the parent of new nations, whom she should rear at least to equal and not to disgrace their origin."

Adderley thundered on in a damning attack on Lord Grey's policy to turn the Cape of Good Hope into a penal settlement. He declared, "The noble Lord is quite satisfied that the convicts will not harm the Cape community, but what of the feelings of the Cape colonists themselves, of what consequence are they? There are miles enough of ocean to dissipate their cries, and strength enough to stifle them if needs be, but, if there is British blood enough in the colonies to rouse and animate resistance, I, for one, would not vote a shilling towards crushing a spirit so becoming to their origin. Oh, that I could get half the indignation here which would be felt were a similar tyranny tried upon ourselves."

When Adderley resumed his seat, he had won his point. More than half the house supported him, and the motion not to make the Cape a penal colony was carried.

On February 13, the Glentanner arrived in Table Bay with a dispatch ordering the Neptune on to Van Diemen's Land. The very next week, she sailed for Hobart, and the night of her departure was witness to the biggest celebration ever received by a ship in Table Bay. The town and suburbs of Cape Town were illuminated and massive fireworks displays lit the sky.

The members of the Anti-Convict Association assembled at the Commercial Hall, and more than 160 people sat down to a celebratory dinner lasting well into the small hours. During the course of the dinner, no fewer than 16 toasts were drunk, not least of all to the health of Mr Charles Bowyer Adderley.

During the following week, it was proposed that the Heerengracht, the main street in Cape Town, be re-named in his honour. The motion was carried unanimously.

In Grahamstown, Mr John Hunt, a master craftsman, produced an exquisitely carved solid stinkwood chair, which was presented to Adderley in February 1851.

And that is how Adderley Street got its name.