A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port Jackson

by

Watkin Tench

PREFACE

A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port
Jackson

A Retrospect of the State of the Colony of Port
Jackson, on the Date of my former Narrative, in July,
1788.
Transactions of the Colony from the sailing of
the First Fleet in July, 1788, to the Close of that
Year.
Transactions of the Colony, from the
Commencement of the Year 1789, until the End of March.
Transactions of the Colony in April and May,
1789.
Transactions of the Colony until the Close of
the Year 1789.
Transactions of the Colony, from the Beginning
of the Year 1790 until the End of May following.
Transactions of the Colony in June, July, and
August, 1790.
Transactions of the Colony in the Beginning of
September, 1790.
Transactions of the Colony in part of September
and October, 1790.
The arrival of the ‘Supply’ from
Batavia; the State of the Colony in November, 1790.
Farther Transactions of the Colony in November,
1790.
Transactions of the Colony in Part of December,
1790.
The Transactions of the Colony continued to the
End of May, 1791.
Travelling Diaries in New South Wales.
Transactions of the Colony to the end of
November, 1791.
Transactions of the colony until 18th of
December 1791, when I quitted it, with an Account of its state at
that time.
Miscellaneous Remarks on the country. On its
vegetable productions. On its climate. On its animal productions.
On its natives, etc.
Observations on the Convicts.
Facts relating to the probability of
establishing a whale fishery on the coast of New South Wales,
with Thoughts on the same.

PREFACE

When it is recollected how much has been written to describe
the Settlement of New South Wales, it seems necessary if not to
offer an apology, yet to assign a reason, for an additional
publication.

The Author embarked in the fleet which sailed to found the
establishment at Botany Bay. He shortly after published a
Narrative of the Proceedings and State of the Colony, brought up
to the beginning of July, 1788, which was well received, and
passed through three editions. This could not but inspire both
confidence and gratitude; but gratitude, would be badly
manifested were he on the presumption of former favour to lay
claim to present indulgence. He resumes the subject in the humble
hope of communicating information, and increasing knowledge, of
the country, which he describes.

He resided at Port Jackson nearly four years: from the 20th of
January, 1788, until the 18th of December, 1791. To an active and
contemplative mind, a new country is an inexhaustible source of
curiosity and speculation. It was the author’s custom not only to
note daily occurrences, and to inspect and record the progression
of improvement; but also, when not prevented by military duties,
to penetrate the surrounding country in different directions, in
order to examine its nature, and ascertain its relative
geographical situations.

The greatest part of the work is inevitably composed of those
materials which a journal supplies; but wherever reflections
could be introduced without fastidiousness and parade, he has not
scrupled to indulge them, in common with every other deviation
which the strictness of narrative would allow.

When this publication was nearly ready for the press; and when
many of the opinions which it records had been declared, fresh
accounts from Port Jackson were received. To the state of a
country, where so many anxious trying hours of his life have
passed, the author cannot feel indifferent. If by any sudden
revolution of the laws of nature; or by any fortunate discovery
of those on the spot, it has really become that fertile and
prosperous land, which some represent it to be, he begs
permission to add his voice to the general congratulation. He
rejoices at its success: but it is only justice to himself and
those with whom he acted to declare, that they feel no cause of
reproach that so complete and happy an alteration did not take
place at an earlier period.

CHAPTER I.

A Retrospect of the State of the Colony of Port Jackson, on
the Date of my former Narrative, in July, 1788.

Previous to commencing any farther account of the subject,
which I am about to treat, such a retrospection of the
circumstances and situation of the settlement, at the conclusion
of my former Narrative, as shall lay its state before the reader,
seems necessary, in order to connect the present with the
past.

The departure of the first fleet of ships for Europe, on the
14th of July, 1788, had been long impatiently expected; and had
filled us with anxiety, to communicate to our friends an account
of our situation; describing the progress of improvement, and the
probability of success, or failure, in our enterprise. That men
should judge very oppositely on so doubtful and precarious an
event, will hardly surprise.

Such relations could contain little besides the sanguineness
of hope, and the enumeration of hardships and difficulties, which
former accounts had not led us to expect. Since our
disembarkation in the preceding January, the efforts of every one
had been unremittingly exerted, to deposit the public stores in a
state of shelter and security, and to erect habitations for
ourselves. We were eager to escape from tents, where a fold of
canvas, only, interposed to check the vertic beams of the sun in
summer, and the chilling blasts of the south in winter. A markee
pitched, in our finest season, on an English lawn; or a transient
view of those gay camps, near the metropolis, which so many
remember, naturally draws forth careless and unmeaning
exclamations of rapture, which attach ideas of pleasure only, to
this part of a soldier’s life. But an encampment amidst the rocks
and wilds of a new country, aggravated by the miseries of bad
diet, and incessant toil, will find few admirers.

Nor were our exertions less unsuccessful than they were
laborious. Under wretched covers of thatch lay our provisions and
stores, exposed to destruction from every flash of lightning, and
every spark of fire. A few of the convicts had got into huts; but
almost all the officers, and the whole of the soldiery, were
still in tents.

In such a situation, where knowledge of the mechanic arts
afforded the surest recommendation to notice, it may be easily
conceived, that attention to the parade duty of the troops,
gradually diminished. Now were to be seen officers and soldiers
not “trailing the puissant pike” but felling the ponderous
gum-tree, or breaking the stubborn clod. And though “the broad
falchion did not in a ploughshare end” the possession of a spade,
a wheelbarrow, or a dunghill, was more coveted than the most
refulgent arms in which heroism ever dazzled. Those hours, which
in other countries are devoted to martial acquirements, were here
consumed in the labours of the sawpit, the forge and the
quarry*.

[* “The Swedish prisoners, taken at the battle of
Pultowa, were transported by the Czar Peter to the most remote
parts of Siberia, with a view to civilize the natives of the
country, and teach them the arts the Swedes possessed. In this
hopeless situation, all traces of discipline and subordination,
between the different ranks, were quickly obliterated. The
soldiers, who were husbandmen and artificers, found out their
superiority, and assumed it: the officers became their servants.”
VOLTAIRE.]

Of the two ships of war, the ‘Sirius’ and ‘Supply’, the latter
was incessantly employed in transporting troops, convicts, and
stores, to Norfolk Island; and the ‘Sirius’ in preparing for a
voyage to some port, where provisions for our use might be
purchased, the expected supply from England not having arrived.
It is but justice to the officers and men of both these ships to
add, that, on all occasions, they fully shared every hardship and
fatigue with those on shore.

On the convicts the burden fell yet heavier: necessity
compelled us to allot to them the most slavish and laborious
employments. Those operations, which in other countries are
performed by the brute creation, were here effected by the
exertions of men: but this ought not to be considered a
grievance; because they had always been taught to expect it, as
the inevitable consequence of their offences against society.
Severity was rarely exercised on them; and justice was
administered without partiality or discrimination. Their ration
of provisions, except in being debarred from an allowance of
spirits, was equal to that which the marines received. Under
these circumstances I record with pleasure, that they behaved
better than had been predicted of them–to have expected sudden
and complete reformation of conduct, were romantic and
chimerical.

Our cultivation of the land was yet in its infancy. We had
hitherto tried only the country contiguous to Sydney. Here the
governor had established a government-farm; at the head of which
a competent person of his own household was placed, with convicts
to work under him. Almost the whole of the officers likewise
accepted of small tracts of ground, for the purpose of raising
grain and vegetables: but experience proved to us, that the soil
would produce neither without manure; and as this was not to be
procured, our vigour soon slackened; and most of the farms (among
which was the one belonging to government) were successively
abandoned.

With the natives we were very little more acquainted than on
our arrival in the country. Our intercourse with them was neither
frequent or cordial. They seemed studiously to avoid us, either
from fear, jealousy, or hatred. When they met with unarmed
stragglers, they sometimes killed, and sometimes wounded them. I
confess that, in common with many others, I was inclined to
attribute this conduct, to a spirit of malignant levity. But a
farther acquaintance with them, founded on several instances of
their humanity and generosity, which shall be noticed in their
proper places, has entirely reversed my opinion; and led me to
conclude, that the unprovoked outrages committed upon them, by
unprincipled individuals among us, caused the evils we had
experienced. To prevent them from being plundered of their
fishing-tackle and weapons of war, a proclamation was issued,
forbidding their sale among us; but it was not attended with the
good effect which was hoped for from it.

During this period, notwithstanding the want of fresh
provisions and vegetables, and almost constant exposure to the
vicissitudes of a variable climate, disease rarely attacked us;
and the number of deaths, was too inconsiderable to deserve
mention.

Norfolk Island had been taken possession of, by a party
detached for that purpose, early after our arrival. Few accounts
of it had yet reached us. And here I beg leave to observe, that
as I can speak of this island only from the relations of others,
never having myself been there, I shall in every part of this
work mention it as sparingly as possible. And this more
especially, as it seems probable, that some of those gentlemen,
who from accurate knowledge, and long residence on it, are
qualified to write its history, will oblige the world with such a
publication.

CHAPTER II.

Transactions of the Colony from the sailing of the First
Fleet in July, 1788, to the Close of that Year.

It was impossible to behold without emotion the departure of
the ships. On their speedy arrival in England perhaps hinged our
fate; by hastening our supplies to us.

On the 20th of July, the ‘Supply’ sailed for Norfolk Island,
and returned to us on the 26th of August; bringing no material
news, except that the soil was found to suit grain, and other
seeds, which had been sown in it, and that a species of
flax-plant was discovered to grow spontaneously on the
island.

A survey of the harbour of Port Jackson was now undertaken, in
order to compute the number of canoes, and inhabitants, which it
might contain: sixty-seven canoes, and 147 people were counted.
No estimate, however, of even tolerable accuracy, can be drawn
from so imperfect a datum; though it was perhaps the best in our
power to acquire.

In July and August, we experienced more inclement tempestuous
weather than had been observed at any former period of equal
duration. And yet it deserves to be remarked, in honour of the
climate, that, although our number of people exceeded 900, not a
single death happened in the latter month.

The dread of want in a country destitute of natural resource
is ever peculiarly terrible. We had long turned our eyes with
impatience towards the sea, cheered by the hope of seeing
supplies from England approach. But none arriving, on the 2d of
October the ‘Sirius’ sailed for the Cape of Good Hope, with
directions to purchase provisions there, for the use of our
garrison.

A new settlement, named by the governor Rose Hill, 16 miles
inland, was established on the 3d of November, the soil here
being judged better than that around Sydney. A small redoubt was
thrown up, and a captain’s detachment posted in it, to protect
the convicts who were employed to cultivate the ground.

The two last of the transports left us for England on the 19th
of November, intending to make their passage by Cape Horn. There
now remained with us only the ‘Supply’. Sequestered and cut off
as we were from the rest of civilized nature, their absence
carried the effect of desolation. About this time a convict, of
the name of Daly, was hanged, for a burglary: this culprit, who
was a notorious thief and impostor, was the author of a discovery
of a gold mine, a few months before: a composition resembling ore
mingled with earth, which he pretended to have brought from it,
he produced. After a number of attendant circumstances, too
ludicrous and contemptible to relate, which befell a party, who
were sent under his guidance to explore this second Peru, he at
last confessed, that he had broken up an old pair of buckles, and
mixed the pieces with sand and stone; and on assaying the
composition, the brass was detected. The fate of this fellow I
should not deem worth recording, did it not lead to the following
observation, that the utmost circumspection is necessary to
prevent imposition, in those who give accounts of what they see
in unknown countries. We found the convicts particularly happy in
fertility of invention, and exaggerated descriptions. Hence large
fresh water rivers, valuable ores, and quarries of limestone,
chalk, and marble, were daily proclaimed soon after we had
landed. At first we hearkened with avidity to such accounts; but
perpetual disappointments taught us to listen with caution, and
to believe from demonstration only.

Unabated animosity continued to prevail between the natives
and us: in addition to former losses, a soldier and several
convicts suddenly disappeared, and were never afterwards heard
of. Three convicts were also wounded, and one killed by them,
near Botany Bay: similar to the vindictive spirit which Mr. Cook
found to exist among their countrymen at Endeavour River, they
more than once attempted to set fire to combustible matter, in
order to annoy us. Early on the morning of the 18th of December,
word was brought that they were assembled in force, near the
brick-kilns, which stand but a mile from the town of Sydney. The
terror of those who brought the first intelligence magnified the
number to two thousand; a second messenger diminished it to four
hundred. A detachment, under the command of an officer was
ordered to march immediately, and reconnoitre them. The officer
soon returned, and reported, that about fifty Indians had
appeared at the brick-kilns; but upon the convicts, who were at
work there, pointing their spades and shovels at them, in the
manner of guns, they had fled into the woods.

Tired of this state of petty warfare and endless uncertainty,
the governor at length determined to adopt a decisive measure, by
capturing some of them, and retaining them by force; which we
supposed would either inflame the rest to signal vengeance, in
which case we should know the worst, and provide accordingly: or
else it would induce an intercourse, by the report which our
prisoners would make of the mildness and indulgence with which we
used them. And farther, it promised to unveil the cause of their
mysterious conduct, by putting us in possession of their reasons
for harassing and destroying our people, in the manner I have
related. Boats were accordingly ordered to be got ready, and
every preparation made, which could lead to the attainment of our
object.

But as this subject deserves to be particularly detailed, I
shall, notwithstanding its being just within the period of time
which this chapter professes to comprise, allot it a separate
place, in the beginning of the next.

Nor can I close this part of my work without congratulating
both the reader and the author. New matter now presents itself. A
considerable part of the foregoing chapters had been related
before, either by others or myself. I was however, unavoidably
compelled to insert it, in order to preserve unbroken that chain
of detail, and perspicuity of arrangement, at which books
professing to convey information should especially aim.

CHAPTER III.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Commencement of the Year
1789, until the End of March.

Pursuant to his resolution, the governor on the 31st of
December sent two boats, under the command of Lieutenant Ball of
the ‘Supply’, and Lieutenant George Johnston of the marines, down
the harbour, with directions to those officers to seize and carry
off some of the natives. The boats proceeded to Manly Cove, where
several Indians were seen standing on the beach, who were enticed
by courteous behaviour and a few presents to enter into
conversation. A proper opportunity being presented, our people
rushed in among them, and seized two men: the rest fled; but the
cries of the captives soon brought them back, with many others,
to their rescue: and so desperate were their struggles, that, in
spite of every effort on our side, only one of them was secured;
the other effected his escape. The boats put off without delay;
and an attack from the shore instantly commenced: they threw
spears, stones, firebrands, and whatever else presented itself,
at the boats; nor did they retreat, agreeable to their former
custom, until many musquets were fired over them.

The prisoner was now fastened by ropes to the thwarts of the
boat; and when he saw himself irretrievably disparted from his
countrymen, set up the most piercing and lamentable cries of
distress. His grief, however, soon diminished: he accepted and
ate of some broiled fish which was given to him, and sullenly
submitted to his destiny.

When the news of his arrival at Sydney was announced, I went
with every other person to see him: he appeared to be about
thirty years old, not tall, but robustly made; and of a
countenance which, under happier circumstances, I thought would
display manliness and sensibility; his agitation was excessive,
and the clamourous crowds who flocked around him did not
contribute to lessen it. Curiosity and observation seemed,
nevertheless, not to have wholly deserted him; he shewed the
effect of novelty upon ignorance; he wondered at all he saw:
though broken and interrupted with dismay, his voice was soft and
musical, when its natural tone could be heard; and he readily
pronounced with tolerable accuracy the names of things which were
taught him. To our ladies he quickly became extraordinarily
courteous, a sure sign that his terror was wearing off.

Every blandishment was used to soothe him, and it had its
effect. As he was entering the governor’s house, some one touched
a small bell which hung over the door: he started with horror and
astonishment; but in a moment after was reconciled to the noise,
and laughed at the cause of his perturbation. When pictures were
shown to him, he knew directly those which represented the human
figure: among others, a very large handsome print of her royal
highness the Dutchess of Cumberland being produced, he called out
‘woman’, a name by which we had just before taught him to call
the female convicts. Plates of birds and beasts were also laid
before him; and many people were led to believe, that such as he
spoke about and pointed to were known to him. But this must have
been an erroneous conjecture, for the elephant, rhinoceros, and
several others, which we must have discovered did they exist in
the country, were of the number. Again, on the other hand, those
he did not point out, were equally unknown to him.

His curiosity here being satiated, we took him to a large
brick house, which was building for the governor’s residence:
being about to enter, he cast up his eyes, and seeing some people
leaning out of a window on the first story, he exclaimed aloud,
and testified the most extravagant surprise. Nothing here was
observed to fix his attention so strongly as some tame fowls, who
were feeding near him: our dogs also he particularly noticed; but
seemed more fearful than fond of them.

He dined at a side-table at the governor’s; and ate heartily
of fish and ducks, which he first cooled. Bread and salt meat he
smelled at, but would not taste: all our liquors he treated in
the same manner, and could drink nothing but water. On being
shown that he was not to wipe his hands on the chair which he sat
upon, he used a towel which was gave to him, with great
cleanliness and decency.

In the afternoon his hair was closely cut, his head combed,
and his beard shaved; but he would not submit to these operations
until he had seen them performed on another person, when he
readily acquiesced. His hair, as might be supposed, was filled
with vermin, whose destruction seemed to afford him great
triumph; nay, either revenge, or pleasure, prompted him to eat
them! but on our expressing disgust and abhorrence he left it
off.

To this succeeded his immersion in a tub of water and soap,
where he was completely washed and scrubbed from head to foot;
after which a shirt, a jacket, and a pair of trousers, were put
upon him. Some part of this ablution I had the honour to perform,
in order that I might ascertain the real colour of the skin of
these people. My observation then was (and it has since been
confirmed in a thousand other instances) that they are as black
as the lighter cast of the African negroes.

Many unsuccessful attempts were made to learn his name; the
governor therefore called him Manly, from the cove in which he
was captured: this cove had received its name from the manly
undaunted behaviour of a party of natives seen there, on our
taking possession of the country.

To prevent his escape, a handcuff with a rope attached to it,
was fastened around his left wrist, which at first highly
delighted him; he called it ‘bengadee’ (or ornament), but his
delight changed to rage and hatred when he discovered its use.
His supper he cooked himself: some fish were given to him for
this purpose, which, without any previous preparation whatever,
he threw carelessly on the fire, and when they became warm took
them up, and first rubbed off the scales, peeled the outside with
his teeth, and ate it; afterwards he gutted them, and laying them
again on the fire, completed the dressing, and ate them.

A convict was selected to sleep with him, and to attend him
wherever he might go. When he went with his keeper into his
apartment he appeared very restless and uneasy while a light was
kept in; but on its extinction, he immediately lay down and
composed himself.

Sullenness and dejection strongly marked his countenance on
the following morning; to amuse him, he was taken around the
camp, and to the observatory: casting his eyes to the opposite
shore from the point where he stood, and seeing the smoke of fire
lighted by his countrymen, he looked earnestly at it, and sighing
deeply two or three times, uttered the word ‘gweeun’ (fire).

His loss of spirits had not, however, the effect of impairing
his appetite; eight fish, each weighing about a pound,
constituted his breakfast, which he dressed as before. When he
had finished his repast, he turned his back to the fire in a
musing posture, and crept so close to it, that his shirt was
caught by the flame; luckily his keeper soon extinguished it; but
he was so terrified at the accident, that he was with difficulty
persuaded to put on a second.

1st. January, 1789. To-day being new-year’s-day, most of the
officers were invited to the governor’s table: Manly dined
heartily on fish and roasted pork; he was seated on a chest near
a window, out of which, when he had done eating, he would have
thrown his plate, had he not been prevented: during dinner-time a
band of music played in an adjoining apartment; and after the
cloth was removed, one of the company sang in a very soft and
superior style; but the powers of melody were lost on Manly,
which disappointed our expectations, as he had before shown
pleasure and readiness in imitating our tunes. Stretched out on
his chest, and putting his hat under his head, he fell
asleep.

To convince his countrymen that he had received no injury from
us, the governor took him in a boat down the harbour, that they
might see and converse with him: when the boat arrived, and lay
at a little distance from the beach, several Indians who had
retired at her approach, on seeing Manly, returned: he was
greatly affected, and shed tears. At length they began to
converse. Our ignorance of the language prevented us from knowing
much of what passed; it was, however, easily understood that his
friends asked him why he did not jump overboard, and rejoin them.
He only sighed, and pointed to the fetter on his leg, by which he
was bound.

In going down the harbour he had described the names by which
they distinguish its numerous creeks and headlands: he was now
often heard to repeat that of ‘Weerong’ (Sydney Cove), which was
doubtless to inform his countrymen of the place of his captivity;
and perhaps invite them to rescue him. By this time his gloom was
chased away, and he parted from his friends without testifying
reluctance. His vivacity and good humour continued all the
evening, and produced so good an effect on his appetite, that he
ate for supper two kangaroo rats, each of the size of a moderate
rabbit, and in addition not less than three pounds of fish.

Two days after he was taken on a similar excursion; but to our
surprise the natives kept aloof, and would neither approach the
shore, or discourse with their countryman: we could get no
explanation of this difficulty, which seemed to affect us more
than it did him. Uncourteous as they were, he performed to them
an act of attentive benevolence; seeing a basket made of bark,
used by them to carry water, he conveyed into it two hawks and
another bird, which the people in the boat had shot, and
carefully covering them over, left them as a present to his old
friends. But indeed the gentleness and humanity of his
disposition frequently displayed themselves: when our children,
stimulated by wanton curiosity, used to flock around him, he
never failed to fondle them, and, if he were eating at the time,
constantly offered them the choicest part of his fare.

February, 1789. His reserve, from want of confidence in us,
continued gradually to wear away: he told us his name, and Manly
gave place to Arabanoo. Bread he began to relish; and tea he
drank with avidity: strong liquors he would never taste, turning
from them with disgust and abhorrence. Our dogs and cats had
ceased to be objects of fear, and were become his greatest pets,
and constant companions at table. One of our chief amusements,
after the cloth was removed, was to make him repeat the names of
things in his language, which he never hesitated to do with the
utmost alacrity, correcting our pronunciation when erroneous.
Much information relating to the customs and manners of his
country was also gained from him: but as this subject will be
separately and amply treated, I shall not anticipate myself by
partially touching on it here.

On the 2nd of February died Captain John Shea of the marines,
after a lingering illness: he was interred on the following day,
with the customary military honours, amidst the regret of all who
knew him. In consequence of his decease, appointments for the
promotion of the oldest officer of each subordinate rank were
signed by the major commandant of the marine battalion, until the
pleasure of the lords of the admiralty should be notified.*

[*These appointments were confirmed by the
admiralty.]

On the 17th of February the ‘Supply’ again sailed for Norfolk
Island. The governor went down the harbour in her, and carried
Arabanoo with him, who was observed to go on board with distrust
and reluctance; when he found she was under sail, every effort
was tried without success to exhilarate him; at length, an
opportunity being presented, he plunged overboard, and struck out
for the nearest shore: believing that those who were left behind
would fire at him, he attempted to dive, at which he was known to
be very expert: but this was attended with a difficulty which he
had not foreseen: his clothes proved so buoyant, that he was
unable to get more than his head under water: a boat was
immediately dispatched after him, and picked him up, though not
without struggles and resistance on his side. When brought on
board, he appeared neither afraid or ashamed of what he had done,
but sat apart, melancholy and dispirited, and continued so until
he saw the governor and his other friends descend into a boat,
and heard himself called upon to accompany them: he sprang
forward, and his cheerfulness and alacrity of temper immediately
returned, and lasted during the remainder of the day. The dread
of being carried away, on an element of whose boundary he could
form no conception, joined to the uncertainty of our intention
towards him, unquestionably caused him to act as he did.

One of the principal effects which we had supposed the seizure
and captivity of Arabanoo would produce, seemed yet at as great a
distance as ever; the natives neither manifested signs of
increased hostility on his account, or attempted to ask any
explanation of our conduct through the medium of their countryman
who was in our possession, and who they knew was treated with no
farther harshness than in being detained among us. Their
forbearance of open and determined attack upon can be accounted
for only by recollecting their knowledge of our numbers, and
their dread of our fire-arms: that they wanted not sufficient
provocation to do so, will appear from what I am about to
relate.

March, 1789. Sixteen convicts left their work at the
brick-kilns without leave, and marched to Botany Bay, with a
design to attack the natives, and to plunder them of their
fishing-tackle and spears: they had armed themselves with their
working tools and large clubs. When they arrived near the bay, a
body of Indians, who had probably seen them set out, and had
penetrated their intention from experience, suddenly fell upon
them. Our heroes were immediately routed, and separately
endeavoured to effect their escape by any means which were left.
In their flight one was killed, and seven were wounded, for the
most part very severely: those who had the good fortune to
outstrip their comrades and arrive in camp, first gave the alarm;
and a detachment of marines, under an officer, was ordered to
march to their relief. The officer arrived too late to repel the
Indians; but he brought in the body of the man that was killed,
and put an end to the pursuit. The governor was justly incensed
at what had happened, and instituted the most rigorous scrutiny
into the cause which had produced it. At first the convicts were
unanimous in affirming, that they were quietly picking
sweet-tea*, when they were without provocation assaulted by the
natives, with whom they had no wish to quarrel. Some of them,
however, more irresolute than the rest, at last disclosed the
purpose for which the expedition had been undertaken; and the
whole were ordered to be severely flogged: Arabanoo was present
at the infliction of the punishment; and was made to comprehend
the cause and the necessity of it; but he displayed on the
occasion symptoms of disgust and terror only.

[*A vegetable creeper found growing on the rocks,
which yields, on infusion in hot water, a sweet astringent taste,
whence it derives its name: to its virtues the healthy state of
the soldiery and convicts must be greatly attributed. It was
drank universally.]

On the 24th instant the ‘Supply’ arrived from Norfolk Island,
and Lord Flowe Island, bringing from the latter place three
turtles.

An awful and terrible example of justice took place towards
the close of this month, which I record with regret, but which it
would be disingenuous to suppress. Six marines, the flower of our
battalion, were hanged by the public executioner, on the sentence
of a criminal court, composed entirely of their own officers, for
having at various times robbed the public stores of flour, meat,
spirits, tobacco, and many other articles.

CHAPTER IV.

Transactions of the Colony in April and May, 1789.

An extraordinary calamity was now observed among the natives.
Repeated accounts brought by our boats of finding bodies of the
Indians in all the coves and inlets of the harbour, caused the
gentlemen of our hospital to procure some of them for the
purposes of examination and anatomy. On inspection, it appeared
that all the parties had died a natural death: pustules, similar
to those occasioned by the small pox, were thickly spread on the
bodies; but how a disease, to which our former observations had
led us to suppose them strangers, could at once have introduced
itself, and have spread so widely, seemed inexplicable.* Whatever
might be the cause, the existence of the malady could no longer
be doubted. Intelligence was brought that an Indian family lay
sick in a neighbouring cove: the governor, attended by Arabanoo,
and a surgeon, went in a boat immediately to the spot. Here they
found an old man stretched before a few lighted sticks, and a boy
of nine or ten years old pouring water on his head, from a shell
which he held in his hand: near them lay a female child dead, and
a little farther off, its unfortunate mother: the body of the
woman shewed that famine, superadded to disease, had occasioned
her death: eruptions covered the poor boy from head to foot; and
the old man was so reduced, that he was with difficulty got into
the boat. Their situation rendered them incapable of escape, and
they quietly submitted to be led away. Arabanoo, contrary to his
usual character, seemed at first unwilling to render them any
assistance; but his shyness soon wore off, and he treated them
with the kindest attention. Nor would he leave the place until he
had buried the corpse of the child: that of the woman he did not
see from its situation; and as his countrymen did not point it
out, the governor ordered that it should not be shown to him. He
scooped a grave in the sand with his hands, of no peculiarity of
shape, which he lined completely with grass, and put the body
into it, covering it also with grass; and then he filled up the
hole, and raised over it a small mound with the earth which had
been removed. Here the ceremony ended, unaccompanied by any
invocation to a superior being, or any attendant circumstance
whence an inference of their religious opinions could be
deduced.

[*No solution of this difficulty had been given
when I left the country, in December, 1791. I can, therefore,
only propose queries for the ingenuity of others to exercise
itself upon: is it a disease indigenous to the country? Did the
French ships under Monsieur de Peyrouse introduce it? Let it be
remembered that they had now been departed more than a year; and
we had never heard of its existence on board of them. Had it
travelled across the continent from its western shore, where
Dampier and other European voyagers had formerly landed? Was it
introduced by Mr. Cook? Did we give it birth here? No person
among us had been afflicted with the disorder since we had
quitted the Cape of Good Hope, seventeen months before. It is
true, that our surgeons had brought out variolous matter in
bottles; but to infer that it was produced from this cause were a
supposition so wild as to be unworthy of consideration.]

An uninhabited house, near the hospital, was allotted for
their reception, and a cradle prepared for each of them. By the
encouragement of Arabanoo, who assured them of protection, and
the soothing behaviour of our medical gentlemen, they became at
once reconciled to us, and looked happy and grateful at the
change of their situation. Sickness and hunger had, however, so
much exhausted the old man, that little hope was entertained of
his recovery. As he pointed frequently to his throat, at the
instance of Arabanoo, he tried to wash it with a gargle which was
given to him; but the obstructed, tender state of the part
rendered it impracticable. ‘Bado, bado’ (water), was his cry:
when brought to him, he drank largely at intervals of it. He was
equally importunate for fire, being seized with shivering fits;
and one was kindled. Fish were produced, to tempt him to eat; but
he turned away his head, with signs of loathing. Nanbaree (the
boy), on the contrary, no sooner saw them than he leaped from his
cradle, and eagerly seizing them, began to cook them. A warm bath
being prepared, they were immersed in it; and after being
thoroughly cleansed, they had clean shirts put on them, and were
again laid in bed.

The old man lived but a few hours. He bore the pangs of
dissolution with patient composure; and though he was sensible to
the last moment, expired almost without a groan. Nanbaree
appeared quite unmoved at the event; and surveyed the corpse of
his father without emotion, simply exclaiming, ‘boee’ (dead).
This surprised us; as the tenderness and anxiety of the old man
about the boy had been very moving. Although barely able to raise
his head, while so much strength was left to him, he kept looking
into his child’s cradle; he patted him gently on the bosom; and,
with dying eyes, seemed to recommend him to our humanity and
protection. Nanbaree was adopted by Mr. White, surgeon-general of
the settlement, and became henceforth one of his family.

Arabanoo had no sooner heard of the death of his countryman,
than he hastened to inter him. I was present at the ceremony, in
company with the governor, captain Ball, and two or three other
persons. It differed, by the accounts of those who were present
at the funeral of the girl, in no respect from what had passed
there in the morning, except that the grave was dug by a convict.
But I was informed, that when intelligence of the death reached
Arabanoo, he expressed himself with doubt whether he should bury,
or burn the body; and seemed solicitous to ascertain which
ceremony would be most gratifying to the governor.

Indeed, Arabanoo’s behaviour, during the whole of the
transactions of this day, was so strongly marked by affection to
his countryman, and by confidence in us, that the governor
resolved to free him from all farther restraint, and at once to
trust to his generosity, and the impression which our treatment
of him might have made, for his future residence among us: the
fetter was accordingly taken off his leg.

In the evening, captain Ball and I crossed the harbour, and
buried the corpse of the woman before mentioned.

Distress continued to drive them in upon us. Two more natives,
one of them a young man, and the other his sister, a girl of
fourteen years old, were brought in by the governor’s boat, in a
most deplorable state of wretchedness from the smallpox. The
sympathy and affection of Arabanoo, which had appeared languid in
the instance of Nanbaree and his father, here manifested
themselves immediately. We conjectured that a difference of the
tribes to which they belonged might cause the preference; but
nothing afterwards happened to strengthen or confirm such a
supposition. The young man died at the end of three days: the
girl recovered, and was received as an inmate, with great
kindness, in the family of Mrs Johnson, the clergyman’s wife. Her
name was Booron; but from our mistake of pronunciation she
acquired that of Abaroo, by which she was generally known, and by
which she will always be called in this work. She shewed, at the
death of her brother more feeling than Nanbaree had witnessed for
the loss of his father. When she found him dying, she crept to
his side, and lay by him until forced by the cold to retire. No
exclamation, or other sign of grief, however, escaped her for
what had happened.

May 1789. At sunset, on the evening of the 2d instant, the
arrival the ‘Sirius’, Captain Hunter, from the Cape of Good Hope,
was proclaimed, and diffused universal joy and congratulation.
The day of famine was at least procrastinated by the supply of
flour and salt provisions she brought us.

The ‘Sirius’ had made her passage to the Cape of Good Hope, by
the route of Cape Horn, in exactly thirteen weeks. Her highest
latitude was 57 degrees 10 minutes south, where the weather
proved intolerably cold. Ice, in great quantity, was seen for
many days; and in the middle of December (which is correspondent
to the middle of June, in our hemisphere), water froze in open
casks upon deck, in the moderate latitude of 44 degrees.

They were very kindly treated by the Dutch governor, and amply
supplied by the merchants at the Cape, where they remained seven
weeks. Their passage back was effected by Van Diemen’s Land, near
which, and close under Tasman’s Head, they were in the utmost
peril of being wrecked.

In this long run, which had extended round the circle, they
had always determined their longitude, to the greatest nicety, by
distances taken between the sun and moon, or between the moon and
a star. But it falls to the lot of very few ships to possess such
indefatigable and accurate observers as Captain Hunter, and Mr.
(now Captain) Bradley, the first lieutenant of the ‘Sirius’.

I feel assured, that I have no reader who will not join in
regretting the premature loss of Arabanoo, who died of the
smallpox on the 18th instant, after languishing in it six days.
From some imperfect marks and indents on his face, we were
inclined to believe that he had passed this dreaded disorder.
Even when the first symptoms of sickness seized him, we continued
willing to hope that they proceeded from a different cause. But
at length the disease burst forth with irresistible fury. It were
superfluous to say, that nothing which medical skill and
unremitting attention could perform, were left unexerted to
mitigate his sufferings, and prolong a life, which humanity and
affectionate concern towards his sick compatriots, unfortunately
shortened.

During his sickness he reposed entire confidence in us.
Although a stranger to medicine, and nauseating the taste of it,
he swallowed with patient submission innumerable drugs,* which
the hope of relief induced us to administer to him. The governor,
who particularly regarded him**, caused him to be buried in his
own garden, and attended the funeral in person.

[*Very different had been his conduct on a former
occasion of a similar kind. Soon after he was brought among us he
was seized with a diarrhoea, for which he could by no persuasion
be induced to swallow any of our prescriptions. After many
ineffectual trials to deceive, or overcome him, it was at length
determined to let him pursue his own course, and to watch if he
should apply for relief to any of the productions of the country.
He was in consequence observed to dig fern-root, and to chew it.
Whether the disorder had passed its crisis, or whether the
fern-root effected a cure, I know not; but it is certain that he
became speedily well.]

[**The regard was reciprocal. His excellency had
been ill but a short time before, when Arabanoo had testified the
utmost solicitude for his case and recovery. It is probable that
he acquired, on this occasion, just notions of the benefit to be
derived from medical assistance. A doctor is, among them, a
person of consequence. It is certain that he latterly estimated
our professional gentlemen very highly.]

The character of Arabanoo, as far as we had developed it, was
distinguished by a portion of gravity and steadiness, which our
subsequent acquaintance with his countrymen by no means led us to
conclude a national characteristic. In that daring, enterprising
frame of mind, which, when combined with genius, constitutes the
leader of a horde of savages, or the ruler of a people, boasting
the power of discrimination and the resistance of ambition, he
was certainly surpassed by some of his successors, who afterwards
lived among us. His countenance was thoughtful, but not animated:
his fidelity and gratitude, particularly to his friend the
governor, were constant and undeviating, and deserve to be
recorded. Although of a gentle and placable temper, we early
discovered that he was impatient of indignity, and allowed of no
superiority on our part. He knew that he was in our power; but
the independence of his mind never forsook him. If the slightest
insult were offered to him, he would return it with interest. At
retaliation of merriment he was often happy; and frequently
turned the laugh against his antagonist. He did not want
docility; but either from the difficulty of acquiring our
language, from the unskillfulness of his teachers, or from some
natural defect, his progress in learning it was not equal to what
we had expected. For the last three or four weeks of his life,
hardly any restraint was laid upon his inclinations: so that had
he meditated escape, he might easily have effected it. He was,
perhaps, the only native who was ever attached to us from choice;
and who did not prefer a precarious subsistence among wilds and
precipices, to the comforts of a civilized system.

By his death, the scheme which had invited his capture was
utterly defeated. Of five natives who had been brought among us,
three had perished from a cause which, though unavoidable, it was
impossible to explain to a people, who would condescend to enter
into no intercourse with us. The same suspicious dread of our
approach, and the same scenes of vengeance acted on unfortunate
stragglers, continued to prevail.

CHAPTER V.

Transactions of the Colony until the Close of the Year
1789.

The anniversary of his majesty’s birth-day was celebrated, as
heretofore, at the government-house, with loyal festivity. In the
evening, the play of ‘The Recruiting Officer’ was performed by a
party of convicts, and honoured by the presence of his
excellency, and the officers of the garrison. That every
opportunity of escape from the dreariness and dejection of our
situation should be eagerly embraced, will not be wondered at.
The exhilarating effect of a splendid theatre is well known: and
I am not ashamed to confess, that the proper distribution of
three or four yards of stained paper, and a dozen farthing
candles stuck around the mud walls of a convict-hut, failed not
to diffuse general complacency on the countenances of sixty
persons, of various descriptions, who were assembled to applaud
the representation. Some of the actors acquitted themselves with
great spirit, and received the praises of the audience: a
prologue and an epilogue, written by one of the performers, were
also spoken on the occasion; which, although not worth inserting
here, contained some tolerable allusions to the situation of the
parties, and the novelty of a stage-representation in New South
Wales.

Broken Bay, which was supposed to be completely explored,
became again an object of research. On the sixth instant, the
governor, accompanied by a large party in two boats, proceeded
thither. Here they again wandered over piles of mis-shapen
desolation, contemplating scenes of wild solitude, whose
unvarying appearance renders them incapable of affording either
novelty or gratification. But when they had given over the hope
of farther discovery, by pursuing the windings of an inlet,
which, from its appearance, was supposed to be a short creek,
they suddenly found themselves at the entrance of a fresh water
river, up which they proceeded twenty miles, in a westerly
direction; and would have farther prosecuted their research, had
not a failure of provisions obliged them to return. This river
they described to be of considerable breadth, and of great depth;
but its banks had hitherto presented nothing better than a
counterpart of the rocks and precipices which surround Broken
Bay.

June, 1789. A second expedition, to ascertain its course, was
undertaken by his excellency, who now penetrated (measuring by
the bed of the river) between 60 and 70 miles, when the farther
progress of the boats was stopped by a fall. The water in every
part was found to be fresh and good. Of the adjoining country,
the opinions of those who had inspected it (of which number I was
not) were so various, that I shall decline to record them. Some
saw a rich and beautiful country; and others were so unfortunate
as to discover little else than large tracts of low land, covered
with reeds, and rank with the inundations of the stream, by which
they had been recently covered. All parties, however, agreed,
that the rocky, impenetrable country, seen on the first
excursion, had ended nearly about the place whence the boats had
then turned back. Close to the fall stands a very beautiful hill,
which our adventurers mounted, and enjoyed from it an extensive
prospect. Potatoes, maize, and garden seeds of various kinds were
put into the earth, by the governor’s order, on different parts
of Richmond-hill, which was announced to be its name. The
latitude of Richmond-hill, as observed by captain Hunter, was
settled at 33 degrees 36 minutes south.

Here also the river received the name of Hawkesbury, in honour
of the noble lord who bears that title.

Natives were found on the banks in several parts, many of whom
were labouring under the smallpox. They did not attempt to commit
hostilities against the boats; but on the contrary shewed every
sign of welcome and friendship to the strangers.

At this period, I was unluckily invested with the command of
the outpost at Rose Hill, which prevented me from being in the
list of discoverers of the Hawkesbury. Stimulated, however, by a
desire of acquiring a further knowledge of the country, on the
26th instant, accompanied by Mr. Arndell, assistant surgeon of
the settlement, Mr. Lowes, surgeon’s mate of the ‘Sirius’, two
marines, and a convict, I left the redoubt at day-break, pointing
our march to a hill, distant five miles, in a westerly or inland
direction, which commands a view of the great chain of mountains,
called Carmarthen hills, extending from north to south farther
than the eye can reach. Here we paused, surveying “the wild
abyss; pondering our voyage.” Before us lay the trackless
immeasurable desert, in awful silence. At length, after
consultation, we determined to steer west and by north, by
compass, the make of the land in that quarter indicating the
existence of a river. We continued to march all day through a
country untrodden before by an European foot. Save that a
melancholy crow now and then flew croaking over head, or a
kangaroo was seen to bound at a distance, the picture of solitude
was complete and undisturbed. At four o’clock in the afternoon we
halted near a small pond of water, where we took up our residence
for the night, lighted a fire, and prepared to cook our supper:
that was, to broil over a couple of ramrods a few slices of salt
pork, and a crow which we had shot.

At daylight we renewed our peregrination; and in an hour after
we found ourselves on the banks of a river, nearly as broad as
the Thames at Putney, and apparently of great depth, the current
running very slowly in a northerly direction. Vast flocks of wild
ducks were swimming in the stream; but after being once fired at,
they grew so shy that we could not get near them a second time.
Nothing is more certain than that the sound of a gun had never
before been heard within many miles of this spot.

We proceeded upwards, by a slow pace, through reeds, thickets,
and a thousand other obstacles, which impeded our progress, over
coarse sandy ground, which had been recently inundated, though
full forty feet above the present level of the river. Traces of
the natives appeared at every step, sometimes in their
hunting-huts, which consist of nothing more than a large piece of
bark, bent in the middle, and open at both ends, exactly
resembling two cards, set up to form an acute angle; sometimes in
marks on trees which they had climbed; or in squirrel-traps*; or,
which surprised us more, from being new, in decoys for the
purpose of ensnaring birds. These are formed of underwood and
reeds, long and narrow, shaped like a mound raised over a grave;
with a small aperture at one end for admission of the prey; and a
grate made of sticks at the other: the bird enters at the
aperture, seeing before him the light of the grate, between the
bars of which, he vainly endeavours to thrust himself, until
taken. Most of these decoys were full of feathers, chiefly those
of quails, which shewed their utility. We also met with two old
damaged canoes hauled up on the beach, which differed in no wise
from those found on the sea coast.

[*A squirrel-trap is a cavity of considerable
depth, formed by art, in the body of a tree. When the Indians in
their hunting parties set fire to the surrounding country (which
is a very common custom) the squirrels, opossums, and other
animals, who live in trees, flee for refuge into these holes,
whence they are easily dislodged and taken. The natives always
pitch on a part of a tree for this purpose, which has been
perforated by a worm, which indicates that the wood is in an
unsound state, and will readily yield to their efforts. If the
rudeness and imperfection of the tools with which they work be
considered, it must be confessed to be an operation of great toil
and difficulty.]

Having remained out three days, we returned to our quarters at
Rose-hill, with the pleasing intelligence of our discovery. The
country we had passed through we found tolerably plain, and
little encumbered with underwood, except near the river side. It
is entirely covered with the same sorts of trees as grow near
Sydney; and in some places grass springs up luxuriantly; other
places are quite bare of it. The soil is various: in many parts a
stiff and clay, covered with small pebbles; in other places, of a
soft loamy nature: but invariably, in every part near the river,
it is a coarse sterile sand. Our observations on it (particularly
mine, from carrying the compass by which we steered) were not so
numerous as might have been wished. But, certainly, if the
qualities of it be such as to deserve future cultivation, no
impediment of surface, but that of cutting down and burning the
trees, exists, to prevent its being tilled.

To this river the governor gave the name of Nepean. The
distance of the part of the river which we first hit upon from
the sea coast, is about 39 miles, in a direct line almost due
west.

A survey of Botany Bay took place in September. I was of the
party, with several others officers. We continued nine days in
the bay, during which time, the relative position of every part
of it, to the extent of more than thirty miles, following the
windings of the shore, was ascertained, and laid down on paper,
by captain Hunter.

So complete an opportunity of forming a judgment, enables me
to speak decisively of a place, which has often engaged
conversation and excited reflection. Variety of opinions here
disappeared. I shall, therefore, transcribe literally what I
wrote in my journal, on my return from the expedition. “We were
unanimously of opinion, that had not the nautical part of Mr.
Cook’s description, in which we include the latitude and
longitude of the bay, been so accurately laid down, there would
exist the utmost reason to believe, that those who have described
the contiguous country, had never seen it. On the sides of the
harbour, a line of sea coast more than thirty miles long, we did
not find 200 acres which could be cultivated.”

September, 1789. But all our attention was not directed to
explore inlets, and toll for discovery. Our internal tranquillity
was still more important. To repress the inroads of depredation;
and to secure to honest industry the reward of its labour, had
become matter of the most serious consideration; hardly a night
passing without the commission of robbery. Many expedients were
devised; and the governor at length determined to select from the
convicts, a certain number of persons, who were meant to be of
the fairest character, for the purpose of being formed into a
nightly-watch, for the preservation of public and private
property, under the following regulations, which, as the first
system of police in a colony, so peculiarly constituted as ours,
may perhaps prove not uninteresting.

I. A night-watch, consisting of 12 persons, divided into four
parties, is appointed, and fully authorized to patrol at all
hours in the night; and to visit such places as may be deemed
necessary, for the discovery of any felony, trespass, or
misdemeanor; and for the apprehending and securing for
examination, any person or persons who may appear to them
concerned therein, either by entrance into any suspected hut or
dwelling, or by such other measure as may seem to them
expedient.
II. Those parts in which the convicts reside are to be divided
and numbered, in the following manner. The convict huts on the
eastern side of the stream, and the public farm, are to be the
first division. Those at the brick-kilns, and the detached
parties in the different private farms in that district, are to
be the second division. Those on the western side of the stream,
as far as the line which separates the district of the women from
the men, to be the third division. The huts occupied from that
line to the hospital, and from there to the observatory, to be
the fourth division.
III. Each of these districts or divisions is to be under the
particular inspection of one person, who may be judged qualified
to inform himself of the actual residence of each individual in
his district; as well as of his business, connections, and
acquaintances.
IV. Cognizance is to be taken of such convicts as may sell or
barter their slops or provisions; and also of such as are
addicted to gaming for either of the aforesaid articles, who are
to be reported to the judge advocate.
V. Any soldier or seaman found straggling after the beating of
the tattoo; or who may be found in a convict’s hut, is to be
detained; and information of him immediately given to the nearest
guard.
VI. Any person who may be robbed during the night, is to give
immediate information thereof to the watch of his district, who,
on the instant of application being made, shall use the most
effectual means to trace out the offender, or offenders, so that
he, she, or they, may be brought to justice.
VII. The watch of each district is to be under the direction
of one person, who will be named for that purpose. All the
patrols are placed under the immediate inspection of Herbert
Keeling. They are never to receive any fee, gratuity, or reward,
from any individual whatever, to engage their exertions in the
execution of the above trust. Nor will they receive any
stipulated encouragement for the conviction of any offender. But
their diligence and good behaviour will be rewarded by the
governor. And for this purpose their conduct will be strictly
attended to, by those who are placed in authority over them.
VIII. The night-watch is to go out as soon as the tattoo
ceases beating: to return to their huts when the working drum
beats in the morning: and are to make their report to the judge
advocate, through Herbert Keeling, of all robberies and
misdemeanors which may have been committed. Any assistance the
patrols may require, will be given to them, on applying to the
officer commanding the nearest guard; and by the civil power, if
necessary; for which last, application is to be made to the
provost martial.
IX. Any negligence on the part of those who shall be employed
on this duty, will be punished with the utmost rigour of the
law.
X. The night-watch is to consist of 12 persons.

Every political code, either from a defect of its
constitution, or from the corruptness of those who are entrusted
to execute it, will be found less perfect in practice than
speculation had promised itself. It were, however, prejudice to
deny, that for some time following the institution of this
patrol, nightly depredations became less frequent and alarming:
the petty villains, at least, were restrained by it. And to keep
even a garden unravaged was now become a subject of the deepest
concern.

For in October our weekly allowance of provisions, which had
hitherto been eight pounds of flour, five pounds of salt pork,
three pints of pease, six ounces of butter, was reduced to five
pounds five ounces of flour, three pounds five ounces of pork,
and two pints of pease.

In order to lessen the consumption from the public stores, the
‘Supply’ was ordered to touch at Lord Howe Island, in her way
from Norfolk Island, to try if turtle could be procured, for the
purpose of being publicly served in lieu of salt provisions. But
she brought back only three turtles, which were distributed in
the garrison.

December, 1789. At the request of his excellency, lieutenant
Dawes of the marines, accompanied by lieutenant Johnston and Mr.
Lowes, about this time undertook the attempt to cross the Nepean
river, and to penetrate to Carmarthen mountains. Having
discovered a ford in the river, they passed it, and proceeded in
a westerly direction. But they found the country so rugged, and
the difficulty of walking so excessive, that in three days they
were able to penetrate only fifteen miles, and were therefore
obliged to relinquish their object. This party, at the time they
turned back, were farther inland than any other persons ever were
before or since, being fifty-four miles in a direct line from the
sea coast when on the summit of mount Twiss, a hill so named by
them, and which bounded their peregrination.

Intercourse with the natives, for the purpose of knowing
whether or not the country possessed any resources, by which life
might be prolonged*, as well as on other accounts, becoming every
day more desirable, the governor resolved to make prisoners of
two more of them.

[*One of the convicts, a negro, had twice eloped,
with an intention of establishing himself in the society of the
natives, with a wish to adopt their customs and to live with
them: but he was always repulsed by them; and compelled to return
to us from hunger and wretchedness.]

Boats properly provided, under the command of lieutenant
Bradley of the ‘Sirius’, were accordingly dispatched on this
service; and completely succeeded in trepanning and carrying off,
without opposition, two fine young men, who were safely landed
among us at Sydney.

Nanbaree and Abaroo welcomed them on shore; calling them
immediately by their names, Baneelon (Bennelong), and Colbee. But
they seemed little disposed to receive the congratulations, or
repose confidence in the assurances of their friends. The same
scenes of awkward wonder and impatient constraint, which had
attended the introduction of Arabanoo, succeeded. Baneelon we
judged to be about twenty-six years old, of good stature, and
stoutly made, with a bold intrepid countenance, which bespoke
defiance and revenge. Colbee was perhaps near thirty, of a less
sullen aspect than his comrade, considerably shorter, and not so
robustly framed, though better fitted for purposes of activity.
They had both evidently had the smallpox; indeed Colbee’s face
was very thickly imprinted with the marks of it.

Positive orders were issued by the governor to treat them
indulgently, and guard them strictly; notwithstanding which
Colbee contrived to effect his escape in about a week, with a
small iron ring round his leg. Had those appointed to watch them
been a moment later, his companion would have contrived to
accompany him.

But Baneelon, though haughty, knew how to temporize. He
quickly threw off all reserve; and pretended, nay, at particular
moments, perhaps felt satisfaction in his new state. Unlike poor
Arabanoo, he became at once fond of our viands, and would drink
the strongest liquors, not simply without reluctance, but with
eager marks of delight and enjoyment. He was the only native we
ever knew who immediately shewed a fondness for spirits: Colbee
would not at first touch them. Nor was the effect of wine or
brandy upon him more perceptible than an equal quantity would
have produced upon one of us, although fermented liquor was new
to him.

In his eating, he was alike compliant. When a turtle was shown
to Arabanoo, he would not allow it to be a fish, and could not be
induced to eat of it. Baneelon also denied it to be a fish; but
no common councilman in Europe could do more justice than he did
to a very fine one, that the ‘Supply’ had brought from Lord Howe
Island, and which was served up at the governor’s table on
Christmas Day.

His powers of mind were certainly far above mediocrity. He
acquired knowledge, both of our manners and language, faster than
his predecessor had done. He willingly communicated information;
sang, danced, and capered, told us all the customs of his
country, and all the details of his family economy. Love and war
seemed his favourite pursuits; in both of which he had suffered
severely. His head was disfigured by several scars; a spear had
passed through his arm, and another through his leg. Half of one
of his thumbs was carried away; and the mark of a wound appeared
on the back of his hand. The cause and attendant circumstances of
all these disasters, except one, he related to us.

“But the wound on the back of your hand, Baneelon! How did you
get that?”

He laughed, and owned that it was received in carrying off a
lady of another tribe by force. “I was dragging her away. She
cried aloud, and stuck her teeth in me.”

“And what did you do then?”

“I knocked her down, and beat her till she was insensible, and
covered with blood. Then…”

Whenever he recounted his battles, “poised his lance, and
showed how fields were won”, the most violent exclamations of
rage and vengeance against his competitors in arms, those of the
tribe called Cameeragal in particular, would burst from him. And
he never failed at such times to solicit the governor to
accompany him, with a body of soldiers, in order that he might
exterminate this hated name.

Although I call him only Baneelon, he had besides several
appellations, and for a while he chose to be distinguished by
that of Wolarawaree. Again, as a mark of affection and respect to
the governor, he conferred on him the name of Wolarawaree, and
sometimes called him ‘Beenena’ (father), adopting to himself the
name of governor. This interchange we found is a constant symbol
of friendship among them*. In a word, his temper seemed pliant,
and his relish of our society so great, that hardly any one
judged he would attempt to quit us, were the means of escape put
within his reach. Nevertheless it was thought proper to continue
a watch over him.

[*It is observable that this custom prevails as a
pledge of friendship and kindness all over Asia, and has also
been mentioned by Captain Cook to exist among the natives in the
South Sea Islands.]

CHAPTER VI.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Beginning of the Year
1790 until the End of May following.

Our impatience of news from Europe strongly marked the
commencement of the year. We had now been two years in the
country, and thirty-two months from England, in which long period
no supplies, except what had been procured at the Cape of Good
Hope by the ‘Sirius’, had reached us. From intelligence of our
friends and connections we had been entirely cut off, no
communication whatever having passed with our native country
since the 13th of May 1787, the day of our departure from
Portsmouth. Famine besides was approaching with gigantic strides,
and gloom and dejection overspread every countenance. Men
abandoned themselves to the most desponding reflections, and
adopted the most extravagant conjectures.

Still we were on the tiptoe of expectation. If thunder broke
at a distance, or a fowling-piece of louder than ordinary report
resounded in the woods, “a gun from a ship” was echoed on every
side, and nothing but hurry and agitation prevailed. For eighteen
months after we had landed in the country, a party of marines
used to go weekly to Botany Bay, to see whether any vessel,
ignorant of our removal to Port Jackson, might be arrived there.
But a better plan was now devised, on the suggestion of captain
Hunter. A party of seamen were fixed on a high bluff, called the
South-head, at the entrance of the harbour, on which a flag was
ordered to be hoisted, whenever a ship might appear, which should
serve as a direction to her, and as a signal of approach to us.
Every officer stepped forward to volunteer a service which
promised to be so replete with beneficial consequences. But the
zeal and alacrity of captain Hunter, and our brethren of the
‘Sirius’, rendered superfluous all assistance or
co-operation.

Here on the summit of the hill, every morning from daylight
until the sun sunk, did we sweep the horizon, in hope of seeing a
sail. At every fleeting speck which arose from the bosom of the
sea, the heart bounded, and the telescope was lifted to the eye.
If a ship appeared here, we knew she must be bound to us; for on
the shores of this vast ocean (the largest in the world) we were
the only community which possessed the art of navigation, and
languished for intercourse with civilized society.

To say that we were disappointed and shocked, would very
inadequately describe our sensations. But the misery and horror
of such a situation cannot be imparted, even by those who have
suffered under it.

March, 1790. Vigorous measures were become indispensable. The
governor therefore, early in February, ordered the ‘Sirius’ to
prepare for a voyage to China; and a farther retrenchment of our
ration, we were given to understand, would take place on her
sailing.

But the ‘Sirius’ was destined not to reach China. Previously
to her intended departure on that voyage, she was ordered, in
concert with the ‘Supply’, to convey Major Ross, with a large
detachment of marines, and more than two hundred convicts, to
Norfolk Island, it being hoped that such a division of our
numbers would increase the means of subsistence, by diversified
exertions. She sailed on the 6th of March. And on the 27th of the
same month, the following order was issued from headquarters.

Parole–Honour.

Counter sign–Example.

The expected supply of provisions not having arrived, makes it
necessary to reduce the present ration. And the commissary is
directed to issue, from the 1st of April, the under-mentioned
allowance, to every person in the settlement without
distinction.

Four pounds of flour, two pounds and a half of salt pork, and
one pound and a half of rice, per week.

On the 5th of April news was brought, that the flag on the
South-head was hoisted. Less emotion was created by the news than
might be expected. Every one coldly said to his neighbour, “the
‘Sirius’ and ‘Supply’ are returned from Norfolk Island.” To
satisfy myself that the flag was really flying, I went to the
observatory, and looked for it through the large astronomical
telescope, when I plainly saw it. But I was immediately convinced
that it was not to announce the arrival of ships from England;
for I could see nobody near the flagstaff except one solitary
being, who kept strolling around, unmoved by what he saw. I well
knew how different an effect the sight of strange ships would
produce.

April, 1790. The governor, however, determined to go down the
harbour, and I begged permission to accompany him. Having turned
a point about half way down, we were surprised to see a boat,
which was known to belong to the ‘Supply’, rowing towards us. On
nearer approach, I saw captain Ball make an extraordinary motion
with his hand, which too plainly indicated that something
disastrous had happened; and I could not help turning to the
governor, near whom I sat, and saying, “Sir, prepare yourself for
bad news.” A few minutes changed doubt into certainty; and to our
unspeakable consternation we learned, that the ‘Sirius’ had been
wrecked on Norfolk Island, on the 19th of February. Happily,
however, Captain Hunter, and every other person belonging to her,
were saved.

Dismay was painted on every countenance, when the tidings were
proclaimed at Sydney. The most distracting apprehensions were
entertained All hopes were now concentred in the little
‘Supply’.

At six o’clock in the evening, all the officers of the
garrison, both civil and military, were summoned to meet the
governor in council, when the nature of our situation was fully
discussed and an account of the provisions yet remaining in store
laid before the council by the commissary. This account stated,
that on the present ration* the public stores contained salt meat
sufficient to serve until the 2nd of July, flour until the 20th
of August, and rice, or pease in lieu of it, until the 1st of
October.

[*See the ration of the 27th of March, a few
pages back.]

Several regulations for the more effectual preservation of
gardens, and other private property, were proposed, and adopted
and after some interchange of opinion, the following ration was
decreed to commence immediately, a vigorous exertion to prolong
existence, or the chance of relief, being all now left to us.

Two pounds of pork, two pounds and a half of
flour,
two pounds of rice, or a quart of pease, per week,
to every grown person, and to every child of more
than eighteen months old.

To every child under eighteen months old, the
same
quantity of rice and flour, and one pound of pork.**

[**When the age of this provision is recollected,
its inadequacy will more strikingly appear. The pork and rice
were brought with us from England. The pork had been salted
between three and four years, and every grain of rice was a
moving body, from the inhabitants lodged within it. We soon left
off boiling the pork, as it had become so old and dry, that it
shrunk one half in its dimensions when so dressed. Our usual
method of cooking it was to cut off the daily morsel, and toast
it on a fork before the fire, catching the drops which fell on a
slice of bread, or in a saucer of rice. Our flour was the remnant
of what was brought from the Cape, by the ‘Sirius’, and was good.
Instead of baking it, the soldiers and convicts used to boil it
up with greens.]

The immediate departure of the ‘Supply’, for Batavia, was also
determined.

Nor did our zeal stop here. The governor being resolved to
employ all the boats, public and private, in procuring fish–which
was intended to be served in lieu of salt meat–all the officers,
civil and military, including the clergyman, and the surgeons of
the hospital, made the voluntary offer, in addition to their
other duties, to go alternately every night in these boats, in
order to see that every exertion was made, and that all the fish
which might be caught was deposited with the commissary.

The best marksmen of the marines and convicts were also
selected, and put under the command of a trusty sergeant, with
directions to range the woods in search of kangaroos, which were
ordered, when brought in, to be delivered to the commissary.

And as it was judged that the inevitable fatigues of shooting
and fishing could not be supported on the common ration, a small
additional quantity of flour and pork was appropriated to the use
of the game-keepers; and each fisherman, who had been out during
the preceding night had, on his return in the morning, a pound of
uncleaned fish allowed for his breakfast.

On the 17th instant, the ‘Supply’, captain Ball, sailed for
Batavia. We followed her with anxious eyes until she was no
longer visible. Truly did we say to her “In te omnis domus
inclinata recumbit.” We were, however, consoled by reflecting,
that every thing which zeal, fortitude, and seamanship, could
produce, was concentred in her commander.

Our bosoms consequently became less perturbed; and all our
labour and attention were turned on one object–the procuring of
food. “Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war” were no
more.

The distress of the lower classes for clothes was almost equal
to their other wants. The stores had been long exhausted, and
winter was at hand. Nothing more ludicrous can be conceived than
the expedients of substituting, shifting, and patching, which
ingenuity devised, to eke out wretchedness, and preserve the
remains of decency. The superior dexterity of the women was
particularly conspicuous. Many a guard have I seen mount, in
which the number of soldiers without shoes exceeded that which
had yet preserved remnants of leather.

Nor was another part of our domestic economy less whimsical.
If a lucky man, who had knocked down a dinner with his gun, or
caught a fish by angling from the rocks, invited a neighbour to
dine with him, the invitation always ran, “bring your own bread.”
Even at the governor’s table, this custom was constantly
observed. Every man when he sat down pulled his bread out of his
pocket, and laid it by his plate.

The insufficiency of our ration soon diminished our execution
of labour. Both soldiers and convicts pleaded such loss of
strength, as to find themselves unable to perform their
accustomed tasks. The hours of public work were accordingly
shortened or, rather, every man was ordered to do as much as his
strength would permit, and every other possible indulgence was
granted.

May, 1790. In proportion, however, as lenity and mitigation
were extended to inability and helplessness, inasmuch was the
most rigorous justice executed on disturbers of the public
tranquillity. Persons detected in robbing gardens, or pilfering
provisions, were never screened because, as every man could
possess, by his utmost exertions, but a bare sufficiency to
preserve life*, he who deprived his neighbour of that little,
drove him to desperation. No new laws for the punishment of theft
were enacted; but persons of all descriptions were publicly
warned, that the severest penalties, which the existing law in
its greatest latitude would authorise, should be inflicted on
offenders. The following sentence of a court of justice, of which
I was a member, on a convict detected in a garden stealing
potatoes, will illustrate the subject. He was ordered to receive
three hundred lashes immediately, to be chained for six months to
two other criminals, who were thus fettered for former offences,
and to have his allowance of flour stopped for six months. So
that during the operation of the sentence, two pounds of pork,
and two pounds of rice (or in lieu of the latter, a quart of
pease) per week, constituted his whole subsistence. Such was the
melancholy length to which we were compelled to stretch our penal
system.

[*Its preservation in some cases was found
impracticable. Three or four instances of persons who perished
from want have been related to me. One only, however, fell within
my own observation. I was passing the provision store, when a
man, with a wild haggard countenance, who had just received his
daily pittance to carry home, came out. His faltering gait, and
eager devouring eye, led me to watch him, and he had not
proceeded ten steps before he fell. I ordered him to be carried
to the hospital, where, when he arrived, he was found dead. On
opening the body, the cause of death was pronounced to be
inanition.]

Farther to contribute to the detection of villainy, a
proclamation, offering a reward of sixty pounds of flour, more
tempting than the ore of Peru or Potosi, was promised to any one
who should apprehend, and bring to justice, a robber of garden
ground.

Our friend Baneelon, during this season of scarcity, was as
well taken care of as our desperate circumstances would allow. We
knew not how to keep him, and yet were unwilling to part with
him. Had he penetrated our state, perhaps he might have given his
countrymen such a description of our diminished numbers, and
diminished strength, as would have emboldened them to become more
troublesome. Every expedient was used to keep him in ignorance.
His allowance was regularly received by the governor’s servant,
like that of any other person, but the ration of a week was
insufficient to have kept him for a day. The deficiency was
supplied by fish whenever it could be procured, and a little
Indian corn, which had been reserved was ground and appropriated
to his use. In spite of all these aids, want of food has been
known to make him furious and often melancholy.

There is reason to believe that he had long meditated his
escape, which he effected in the night of the 3rd instant. About
two o’clock in the morning, he pretended illness, and awaking the
servant who lay in the room with him, begged to go down stairs.
The other attended him without suspicion of his design; and
Baneelon no sooner found himself in a backyard, than he nimbly
leaped over a slight paling, and bade us adieu.

The following public order was issued within the date of this
chapter, and is too pleasing a proof that universal depravity did
not prevail among the convicts, to be omitted.

The governor, in consequence of the unremitted good behaviour
and meritorious conduct of John Irving, is pleased to remit the
remainder of the term for which he was sentenced to
transportation. He is therefore to be considered as restored to
all those rights and privileges, which had been suspended in
consequence of the sentence of the law. And as such, he is hereby
appointed to act as an assistant to the surgeon at Norfolk
Island.

CHAPTER VII

Transactions of the Colony in June, July, and August,
1790.

At length the clouds of misfortune began to separate, and on
the evening of the 3rd of June, the joyful cry of “the flag’s up”
resounded in every direction.

I was sitting in my hut, musing on our fate, when a confused
clamour in the street drew my attention. I opened my door, and
saw several women with children in their arms running to and fro
with distracted looks, congratulating each other, and kissing
their infants with the most passionate and extravagant marks of
fondness. I needed no more; but instantly started out, and ran to
a hill, where, by the assistance of a pocket glass, my hopes were
realized. My next door neighbour, a brother-officer, was with me,
but we could not speak. We wrung each other by the hand, with
eyes and hearts overflowing.

Finding that the governor intended to go immediately in his
boat down the harbour, I begged to be of his party.

As we proceeded, the object of our hopes soon appeared: a
large ship, with English colours flying, working in, between the
heads which form the entrance of the harbour. The tumultuous
state of our minds represented her in danger; and we were in
agony. Soon after, the governor, having ascertained what she was,
left us, and stepped into a fishing boat to return to Sydney. The
weather was wet and tempestuous but the body is delicate only
when the soul is at ease. We pushed through wind and rain, the
anxiety of our sensations every moment redoubling. At last we
read the word ‘London’ on her stern. “Pull away, my lads! She is
from Old England! A few strokes more, and we shall be aboard!
Hurrah for a bellyfull, and news from our friends!” Such were our
exhortations to the boat’s crew.

A few minutes completed our wishes, and we found ourselves on
board the ‘Lady Juliana’ transport, with two hundred and
twenty-five of our countrywomen whom crime or misfortune had
condemned to exile. We learned that they had been almost eleven
months on their passage, having left Plymouth, into which port
they had put in July, 1789. We continued to ask a thousand
questions on a breath. Stimulated by curiosity, they inquired in
turn; but the right of being first answered, we thought, lay on
our side. “Letters, letters!” was the cry. They were produced,
and torn open in trembling agitation. News burst upon us like
meridian splendor on a blind man. We were overwhelmed with it:
public, private, general, and particular. Nor was it until some
days had elapsed, that we were able to methodise it, or reduce it
into form. We now heard for the first time of our sovereign’s
illness, and his happy restoration to health. The French
revolution of 1789, with all the attendant circumstances of that
wonderful and unexpected event, succeeded to amaze us*. Now, too,
the disaster which had befallen the ‘Guardian’, and the liberal
and enlarged plan on which she had been stored and fitted out by
government for our use, was promulged. It served also, in some
measure, to account why we had not sooner heard from England. For
had not the ‘Guardian’ struck on an island of ice, she would
probably have reached us three months before, and in this case
have prevented the loss of the ‘Sirius’, although she had sailed
from England three months after the ‘Lady Juliana’.

[*These words bring to my mind an anecdote,
which, though rather out of place, I shall offer no apology for
introducing. Among other inquiries, we were anxious to learn
whether M. de la Peyrouse, with the two ships under his command,
bound on a voyage of discovery, had arrived in France. We heard
with concern, that no accounts of them had been received, since
they had left Botany Bay, in March, 1788. I remember when they
were at that place, one day conversing with Monsieur de la
Peyrouse, about the best method of treating savage people, “Sir”
said he, “I have sometimes been compelled to commit hostilities
upon them, but never without suffering the most poignant regret;
for, independent of my own feelings on the occasion, his
Majesty’s (Louis XVI) last words to me, de sa propre bouche, when
I took leave of him at Versailles, were: ‘It is my express
injunction, that you always treat the Indian nations with
kindness and humanity. Gratify their wishes, and never, but in a
case of the last necessity, when self-defence requires it, shed
human blood.’ Are these the sentiments of a tyrant, of a
sanguinary and perfidious man?”

A general thanksgiving to Almighty God, for his Majesty’s
recovery, and happy restoration to his family and subjects, was
ordered to be offered up on the following Wednesday, when all
public labour was suspended; and every person in the settlement
attended at church, where a sermon, suited to an occasion, at
once so full of gratitude and solemnity, was preached by the
Reverend Richard Johnson, chaplain of the colony.

All the officers were afterwards entertained at dinner by the
governor. And in the evening, an address to his excellency,
expressive of congratulation and loyalty, was agreed upon; and in
two days after was presented, and very graciously received.

The following invitation to the non-commissioned officers and
private soldiers of the marine battalion, was also about this
time published.

In consequence of the assurance that was given to the
non-commissioned officers and men belonging to the battalion of
marines, on their embarking for the service of this country, that
such of them as should behave well, would be allowed to quit the
service, on their return to England; or be discharged abroad,
upon the relief taking place, and permitted to settle in the
country– His Majesty has been graciously pleased to direct the
following encouragement to be held up to such non-commissioned
officers and privates, as may be disposed to become settlers in
this country, or in any of the islands comprised within the
government of the continent of New South Wales, on the arrival of
the corps raised and intended for the service of this colony, and
for their relief, viz:

To every non-commissioned officer, an allotment of one hundred
and thirty acres of land, if single, and of one hundred and fifty
acres, if married. To every private soldier, an allotment of
eighty acres, if single, and of one hundred acres if married; and
also an allotment of ten acres for every child, whether of a
non-commissioned officer, or of a private soldier. These
allotments will be free of all fines, taxes, quit-rents, and
other acknowledgments, for the space of ten years; but after the
expiration of that period, will be subject to an annual quit-rent
of one shilling for every fifty acres.

His Majesty has likewise been farther pleased to signify his
royal will and pleasure, that a bounty of three pounds be offered
to each non-commissioned officer and soldier, who may be disposed
to continue in this country, and enlist in the corps appointed
for the service of New South Wales; with a farther assurance,
that in case of a proper demeanour on their part, they shall,
after a farther service of five years, be entitled to double the
former portion of land, provided they then choose to become
settlers in the country, free of all taxes, fines, and
quit-rents, for the space of fifteen years; but after that time,
to be subject to the beforementioned annual quit-rent of one
shilling for every fifty acres.

And as a farther encouragement to those men who may be
desirous to become settlers, and continue in the country, his
Majesty has been likewise pleased to direct, that every man
shall, on being discharged, receive out of the public store, a
portion of clothing and provisions, sufficient for his support
for one year; together with a suitable quantity of seeds, grain,
etc. for the tillage of the land; and a portion of tools and
implements of agriculture, proper for their use. And whenever any
man, who may become a settler, can maintain, feed, and clothe,
such number of convicts as may be judged necessary by the
governor, for the time being, to assist him in clearing and
cultivating the land, the service of such convicts shall be
assigned to him.

We were joyfully surprised on the 20th of the month to see
another sail enter the harbour. She proved to be the Justinian
transport, commanded by Captain Maitland, and our rapture was
doubled on finding that she was laden entirely with provisions
for our use. Full allowance, and general congratulation,
immediately took place. This ship had left Falmouth on the
preceding 20th of January, and completed her passage exactly in
five months*. She had staid at Madeira one day, and four at Sao
Tiago, from which last place she had steered directly for New
South Wales, neglecting Rio de Janeiro on her right, and the Cape
of Good Hope on her left; and notwithstanding the immense tract
of ocean she had passed, brought her crew without sickness into
harbour. When the novelty and boldness of such an attempt shall
be recollected, too much praise, on the spirit and activity of
Mr. Maitland, cannot be bestowed.

[*Accident only prevented her from making it in
eighteen days less, for she was then in sight of the harbour’s
mouth, when an unpropitious gale of wind blew her off. Otherwise
she would have reached us one day sooner than the ‘Lady Juliana’.
It is a curious circumstance, that these two ships had sailed
together from the river Thames, one bound to Port Jackson, and
the other bound to Jamaica. The Justinian carried her cargo to
the last mentioned place, landed it; and loaded afresh with
sugars, which she returned with, and delivered in London. She was
then hired as a transport, reladen, and sailed for New South
Wales. Let it be remembered, that no material accident had
happened to either vessel. But what will not zeal and diligence
accomplish!]

Good fortune continued to befriend us. Before the end of the
month, three more transports, having on board two companies of
the New South Wales corps, arrived to add to our society. These
ships also brought out a large body of convicts, whose state and
sufferings will be best estimated by the following return.

N.B. Of those landed sick, one hundred and twenty-four died in
the hospital at Sydney.

On our passage from England, which had lasted more than eight
months and with nearly an equal number of persons, only
twenty-four had died, and not thirty were landed sick. The
difference can be accounted for, only by comparing the manner in
which each fleet was fitted out and conducted. With us the
provisions, served on board, were laid in by a contractor, who
sent a deputy to serve them out; and it became a part of duty for
the officers of the troops to inspect their quality, and to order
that every one received his just proportion. Whereas, in the
fleet now arrived, the distribution of provisions rested entirely
with the masters of the merchantmen, and the officers were
expressly forbidden to interfere in any shape farther about the
convicts than to prevent their escape.

Seventeen pounds, in full of all expense, was the sum paid by
the public for the passage of each person. And this sum was
certainly competent to afford fair profit to the merchant who
contracted. But there is reason to believe, that some of those
who were employed to act for him, violated every principle of
justice, and rioted on the spoils of misery, for want of a
controlling power to check their enormities. No doubt can be
entertained, that a humane and liberal government will interpose
its authority, to prevent the repetition of such flagitious
conduct.

Although the convicts had landed from these ships with every
mark of meagre misery, yet it was soon seen, that a want of room,
in which more conveniences might have been stowed for their use,
had not caused it. Several of the masters of the transports
immediately opened stores, and exposed large quantities of goods
to sale, which, though at most extortionate prices, were eagerly
bought up.

Such was the weakly state of the new corners, that for several
weeks little real benefit to the colony was derived from so great
a nominal addition to our number. However, as fast as they
recovered, employment was immediately assigned to them. The old
hours of labour, which had been reduced in our distress, were
re-established, and the most vigorous measures adopted to give
prosperity to the settlement. New buildings were immediately
planned, and large tracts of ground, at Rose-hill, ordered to be
cleared, and prepared for cultivation. Some superintendents who
had arrived in the fleet, and were hired by government for the
purpose of overlooking and directing the convicts, were found
extremely serviceable in accelerating the progress of
improvement.

July, 1790. This month was marked by nothing worth
communication, except a melancholy accident which befell a young
gentleman of amiable character (one of the midshipmen lately
belonging to the ‘Sirius’) and two marines. He was in a small
boat, with three marines, in the harbour, when a whale was seen
near them. Sensible of their danger, they used every effort to
avoid the cause of it, by rowing in a contrary direction from
that which the fish seemed to take, but the monster suddenly
arose close to them, and nearly filled the boat with water. By
exerting themselves, they baled her out, and again steered from
it. For some time it was not seen, and they conceived themselves
safe, when, rising immediately under the boat, it lifted her to
the height of many yards on its back, whence slipping off, she
dropped as from a precipice, and immediately filled and sunk. The
midshipman and one of the marines were sucked into the vortex
which the whale had made, and disappeared at once. The two other
marines swam for the nearest shore, but one only reached it, to
recount the fate of his companions.

August, 1790. In the beginning of this month, in company with
Mr. Dawes and Mr. Worgan, late surgeon of the ‘Sirius’, I
undertook an expedition to the southward and westward of Rose
Hill, where the country had never been explored. We remained out
seven days, and penetrated to a considerable distance in a S.S.W.
direction, bounding our course at a remarkable hill, to which,
from its conical shape, we gave the name of Pyramid-hill. Except
the discovery of a river (which is unquestionably the Nepean near
its source) to which we gave the name of the Worgan, in honour of
one of our party, nothing very interesting was remarked.

Towards the end of the month, we made a second excursion to
the north-west of Rose Hill, when we again fell in with the
Nepean, and traced it to the spot where it had been first
discovered by the party of which I was a member, fourteen months
before, examining the country as we went along. Little doubt now
subsisted that the Hawkesbury and Nepean were one river.

We undertook a third expedition soon after to Broken Bay,
which place we found had not been exaggerated in description,
whether its capacious harbour, or its desolate incultivable
shores, be considered. On all these excursions we brought away,
in small bags, as many specimens of the soil of the country we
had passed through, as could be conveniently carried, in order
that by analysis its qualities might be ascertained.

CHAPTER VIII.

Transactions of the Colony in the Beginning of September,
1790.

The tremendous monster who had occasioned the unhappy
catastrophe just recorded was fated to be the cause of farther
mischief to us.

On the 7th instant, Captain Nepean, of the New South Wales
Corps, and Mr. White, accompanied by little Nanbaree, and a party
of men, went in a boat to Manly Cove, intending to land there,
and walk on to Broken Bay. On drawing near the shore, a dead
whale, in the most disgusting state of putrefaction, was seen
lying on the beach, and at least two hundred Indians surrounding
it, broiling the flesh on different fires, and feasting on it
with the most extravagant marks of greediness and rapture. As the
boat continued to approach, they were observed to fall into
confusion and to pick up their spears, on which our people lay
upon their oars and Nanbaree stepping forward, harangued them for
some time, assuring them that we were friends. Mr. White now
called for Baneelon who, on hearing his name, came forth, and
entered into conversation. He was greatly emaciated, and so far
disfigured by a long beard, that our people not without
difficulty recognized their old acquaintance. His answering in
broken English, and inquiring for the governor, however, soon
corrected their doubts. He seemed quite friendly. And soon after
Colbee came up, pointing to his leg, to show that he had freed
himself from the fetter which was upon him, when he had escaped
from us.

When Baneelon was told that the governor was not far off, he
expressed great joy, and declared that he would immediately go in
search of him, and if he found him not, would follow him to
Sydney. “Have you brought any hatchets with you?” cried he.
Unluckily they had not any which they chose to spare; but two or
three shirts, some handkerchiefs, knives, and other trifles, were
given to them, and seemed to satisfy. Baneelon, willing to
instruct his countrymen, tried to put on a shirt, but managed it
so awkwardly, that a man of the name of M’Entire, the governor’s
gamekeeper, was directed by Mr. White to assist him. This man,
who was well known to him, he positively forbade to approach,
eyeing him ferociously, and with every mark of horror and
resentment. He was in consequence left to himself, and the
conversation proceeded as before. The length of his beard seemed
to annoy him much, and he expressed eager wishes to be shaved,
asking repeatedly for a razor. A pair of scissors was given to
him, and he shewed he had not forgotten how to use such an
instrument, for he forthwith began to clip his hair with it.

During this time, the women and children, to the number of
more than fifty, stood at a distance, and refused all
invitations, which could be conveyed by signs and gestures, to
approach nearer. “Which of them is your old favourite,
Barangaroo, of whom you used to speak so often?”

“Oh,” said he, “she is become the wife of Colbee! But I have
got ‘bulla muree deein’ (two large women) to compensate for her
loss.”

It was observed that he had received two wounds, in addition
to his former numerous ones, since he had left us; one of them
from a spear, which had passed through the fleshy part of his
arm; and the other displayed itself in a large scar above his
left eye. They were both healed, and probably were acquired in
the conflict wherein he had asserted his pretensions to the two
ladies.

Nanbaree, all this while, though he continued to interrogate
his countrymen, and to interpret on both sides, shewed little
desire to return to their society, and stuck very close to his
new friends. On being asked the cause of their present meeting,
Baneelon pointed to the whale, which stunk immoderately, and
Colbee made signals, that it was common among them to cat until
the stomach was so overladen as to occasion sickness.

Their demand of hatchets being re-iterated, notwithstanding
our refusal, they were asked why they had not brought with them
some of their own? They excused themselves by saying, that on an
occasion of the present sort, they always left them at home, and
cut up the whale with the shell which is affixed to the end of
the throwing-stick.

Our party now thought it time to proceed on their original
expedition, and having taken leave of their sable friends, rowed
to some distance, where they landed, and set out for Broken Bay,
ordering the coxswain of the boat, in which they had come down,
to go immediately and acquaint the governor of all that had
passed. When the natives saw that the boat was about to depart,
they crowded around her, and brought down, by way of present,
three or four great junks of the whale, and put them on board of
her, the largest of which, Baneelon expressly requested might be
offered, in his name, to the governor.

It happened that his excellency had this day gone to a
landmark, which was building on the South-head, near the
flag-staff, to serve as a direction to ships at sea, and the boat
met him on his return to Sydney. Immediately on receiving the
intelligence, he hastened back to the South-head, and having
procured all the fire-arms which could be mustered there,
consisting of four muskets and a pistol, set out, attended by Mr.
Collins and Lieutenant Waterhouse of the navy.

When the boat reached Manly Cove, the natives were found still
busily employed around the whale. As they expressed not any
consternation on seeing us row to the beach, governor Phillip
stepped out unarmed, and attended by one seaman only, and called
for Baneelon, who appeared, but, notwithstanding his former
eagerness, would not suffer the other to approach him for several
minutes. Gradually, however, he warmed into friendship and
frankness, and presently after Colbee came up. They discoursed
for some time, Baneelon expressing pleasure to see his old
acquaintance, and inquiring by name for every person whom he
could recollect at Sydney; and among others for a French cook,
one of the governor’s servants, whom he had constantly made the
butt of his ridicule, by mimicking his voice, gait, and other
peculiarities, all of which he again went through with his wonted
exactness and drollery. He asked also particularly for a lady
from whom he had once ventured to snatch a kiss; and on being
told that she was well, by way of proving that the token was
fresh in his remembrance, he kissed Lieutenant Waterhouse, and
laughed aloud. On his wounds being noticed, he coldly said, that
he had received them at Botany Bay, but went no farther into
their history.

Hatchets still continued to be called for with redoubled
eagerness, which rather surprised us, as formerly they had always
been accepted with indifference. But Baneelon had probably
demonstrated to them their superiority over those of their own
manufacturing. To appease their importunity, the governor gave
them a knife, some bread, pork, and other articles, and promised
that in two days he would return hither, and bring with him
hatchets to be distributed among them, which appeared to diffuse
general satisfaction.

Baneelon’s love of wine has been mentioned; and the governor,
to try whether it still subsisted, uncorked a bottle, and poured
out a glass of it, which the other drank off with his former
marks of relish and good humour, giving for a toast, as he had
been taught, “The King.”

Our party now advanced from the beach but, perceiving many of
the Indians filing off to the right and left, so as in some
measure to surround them, they retreated gently to their old
situation, which produced neither alarm or offence. The others by
degrees also resumed their former position. A very fine barbed
spear of uncommon size being seen by the governor, he asked for
it. But Baneelon, instead of complying with the request, took it
away, and laid it at some distance, and brought back a
throwing-stick, which he presented to his excellency.

Matters had proceeded in this friendly train for more than
half an hour, when a native, with a spear in his hand, came
forward, and stopped at the distance of between twenty and thirty
yards from the place where the governor, Mr. Collins, Lieutenant
Waterhouse, and a seaman stood. His excellency held out his hand,
and called to him, advancing towards him at the same time, Mr.
Collins following close behind. He appeared to be a man of middle
age, short of stature, sturdy, and well set, seemingly a
stranger, and but little acquainted with Baneelon and Colbee. The
nearer the governor approached, the greater became the terror and
agitation of the Indian. To remove his fear, governor Phillip
threw down a dirk, which he wore at his side. The other, alarmed
at the rattle of the dirk, and probably misconstruing the action,
instantly fixed his lance in his throwing-stick*.

[*Such preparation is equal to what cocking a
gun, and directing it at its object, would be with us. To launch
the spear, or to touch the trigger, only remains.]

To retreat, his excellency now thought would be more dangerous
than to advance. He therefore cried out to the man, Weeeree,
Weeree, (bad; you are doing wrong) displaying at the same time,
every token of amity and confidence. The words had, however,
hardly gone forth, when the Indian, stepping back with one foot,
aimed his lance with such force and dexterity, that striking* the
governor’s right shoulder, just above the collar-bone, the point
glancing downward, came out at his back, having made a wound of
many inches long. The man was observed to keep his eye steadily
fixed on the lance until it struck its object, when he directly
dashed into the woods and was seen no more.

[*His excellency described the shock to me as
similar to a violent blow, with such energy was the weapon
thrown.]

Instant confusion on both sides took place. Baneelon and
Colbee disappeared and several spears were thrown from different
quarters, though without effect. Our party retreated as fast as
they could, calling to those who were left in the boat, to hasten
up with firearms. A situation more distressing than that of the
governor, during the time that this lasted, cannot readily be
conceived: the pole of the spear, not less than ten feet in
length, sticking out before him, and impeding his flight, the
butt frequently striking the ground, and lacerating the wound. In
vain did Mr. Waterhouse try to break it; and the barb, which
appeared on the other side, forbade extraction, until that could
be performed. At length it was broken, and his excellency reached
the boat, by which time the seamen with the muskets had got up,
and were endeavouring to fire them, but one only would go off,
and there is no room to believe that it was attended with any
execution.

When the governor got home, the wound was examined. It had
bled a good deal in the boat, and it was doubtful whether the
subclavian artery might not be divided. On moving the spear, it
was found, however, that it might be safely extracted, which was
accordingly performed.

Apprehension for the safety of the party who had gone to
Broken Bay, now took place. Lieutenant Long, with a detachment of
marines, was immediately sent to escort them back, lest any
ambush might be laid by the natives to cut them off. When Mr.
Long reached Manly Cove, the sun had set; however, he pursued his
way in the dark, scrambling over rocks and thickets, as well as
he could, until two o’clock on the following morning, when he
overtook them at a place where they had halted to sleep, about
half-way between the two harbours.

At day-break they all returned, and were surprised to find
tracks in the sand of the feet of the Indians, almost the whole
way from the place where they had slept to the Cove. By this it
should seem as if these last had secretly followed them, probably
with hostile intentions but, on discovering their strength, and
that they were on their guard, had abandoned their design.

On reaching Manly Cove, three Indians were observed standing
on a rock, with whom they entered into conversation. The Indians
informed them, that the man who had wounded the governor belonged
to a tribe residing at Broken Bay, and they seemed highly to
condemn what he had done. Our gentlemen asked them for a spear,
which they immediately gave. The boat’s crew said that Baneelon
and Colbee had just departed, after a friendly intercourse. Like
the others, they had pretended highly to disapprove the conduct
of the man who had thrown the spear, vowing to execute vengeance
upon him.

From this time, until the 14th, no communication passed
between the natives and us. On that day, the chaplain and
lieutenant Dawes, having Abaroo with them in a boat, learned from
two Indians that Wileemarin was the name of the person who had
wounded the governor. These two people inquired kindly how his
excellency did, and seemed pleased to hear that he was likely to
recover. They said that they were inhabitants of Rose Hill, and
expressed great dissatisfaction at the number of white men who
had settled in their former territories. In consequence of which
declaration, the detachment at that post was reinforced on the
following day.

A hazardous enterprise (but when liberty is the stake, what
enterprise is too hazardous for its attainment!) was undertaken
in this month by five convicts at Rose Hill, who, in the night,
seized a small punt there, and proceeded in her to the South
Head, whence they seized and carried off a boat, appropriated to
the use of the lookout house, and put to sea in her, doubtless
with a view of reaching any port they could arrive at, and
asserting their freedom. They had all come out in the last fleet;
and for some time previous to their elopement, had been
collecting fishing tackle, and hoarding up provisions, to enable
them to put their scheme into execution*.

[*They have never since been heard of. Before
they went away, they tried in vain to procure firearms. If they
were not swallowed by the sea, probably they were cut off by the
natives, on some part of the coast where their necessities
obliged them to land.]

CHAPTER IX.

Transactions of the Colony in part of September and October,
1790.

From so unfavourable an omen as I have just related, who could
prognosticate that an intercourse with the natives was about to
commence! That the foundation of what neither entreaty,
munificence, or humanity, could induce, should be laid by a deed,
which threatened to accumulate scenes of bloodshed and horror was
a consequence which neither speculation could predict, or hope
expect to see accomplished.

On the 15th a fire being seen on the north shore of the
harbour, a party of our people went thither, accompanied by
Nanbaree and Abaroo. They found there Baneelon, and several other
natives, and much civility passed, which was cemented by a mutual
promise to meet in the afternoon at the same place. Both sides
were punctual to their engagement, and no objection being made to
our landing, a party of us went ashore to them unarmed. Several
little presents, which had been purposely brought, were
distributed among them; and to Baneelon were given a hatchet and
a fish. At a distance stood some children, who, though at first
timorous and unwilling to approach, were soon persuaded to
advance, and join the men.

A bottle of wine was produced, and Baneelon immediately
prepared for the charge. Bread and beef he called loudly for,
which were given to him, and he began to eat, offering a part of
his fare to his countrymen, two of whom tasted the beef, but none
of them would touch the bread. Having finished his repast, he
made a motion to be shaved, and a barber being present, his
request was complied with, to the great admiration of his
countrymen, who laughed and exclaimed at the operation. They
would not, however, consent to undergo it, but suffered their
beards to be clipped with a pair of scissors.

On being asked where their women were, they pointed to the
spot, but seemed not desirous that we should approach it.
However, in a few minutes, a female appeared not far off, and
Abaroo was dispatched to her. Baneelon now joined with Abaroo to
persuade her to come to us, telling us she was Barangaroo, and
his wife, notwithstanding he had so lately pretended that she had
left him for Colbee. At length she yielded, and Abaroo, having
first put a petticoat on her, brought her to us. But this was the
prudery of the wilderness, which her husband joined us to
ridicule, and we soon laughed her out of it. The petticoat was
dropped with hesitation, and Barangaroo stood “armed cap-a-pee in
nakedness.” At the request of Baneelon, we combed and cut her
hair, and she seemed pleased with the operation. Wine she would
not taste, but turned from it with disgust, though heartily
invited to drink by the example and persuasion of Baneelon. In
short, she behaved so well, and assumed the character of
gentleness and timidity to such advantage, that had our
acquaintance ended here, a very moderate share of the spirit of
travelling would have sufficed to record, that amidst a horde of
roaming savages, in the desert wastes of New South Wales, might
be found as much feminine innocence, softness, and modesty
(allowing for inevitable difference of education), as the most
finished system could bestow, or the most polished circle
produce. So little fitted are we to judge of human nature at
once! And yet on such grounds have countries been described, and
nations characterized. Hence have arisen those speculative and
laborious compositions on the advantages and superiority of a
state of nature. But to resume my subject.

Supposing, that by a private conversation, she might be
induced to visit Sydney, which would be the means of drawing her
husband and others thither, Abaroo was instructed to take her
aside, and try if she could persuade her to comply with our wish.
They wandered away together accordingly, but it was soon seen,
that Barangaroo’s arguments to induce Abaroo to rejoin their
society, were more powerful than those of the latter, to prevail
upon her to come among us; for it was not without manifest
reluctance, and often repeated injunctions, that Abaroo would
quit her countrywomen; and when she had done so, she sat in the
boat, in sullen silence, evidently occupied by reflection on the
scene she had left behind, and returning inclination to her
former habits of life.

Nor was a circumstance which had happened in the morning
interview, perhaps, wholly unremembered by the girl. We had
hinted to Baneelon to provide a husband for her, who should be at
liberty to pass and repass to and from Sydney, as he might
choose. There was at the time, a slender fine looking youth in
company, called Imeerawanyee, about sixteen years old. The lad,
on being invited, came immediately up to her, and offered many
blandishments, which proved that he had assumed the ‘toga
virilis’. But Abaroo disclaimed his advances, repeating the name
of another person, who we knew was her favourite. The young lover
was not, however, easily repulsed, but renewed his suit, on our
return in the afternoon, with such warmth of solicitation, as to
cause an evident alteration in the sentiments of the lady.

To heighten the good humour which pervaded both parties, we
began to play and romp with them. Feats of bodily strength were
tried, and their inferiority was glaring. One of our party lifted
with ease two of them from the ground, in spite of their efforts
to prevent him, whereas in return, no one of them could move him.
They called him ‘murree mulla’ (a large strong man). Compared
with our English labourers, their muscular power would appear
very feeble and inadequate.

Before we parted, Baneelon informed us that his countrymen had
lately been plundered of fish-gigs, spears, a sword, and many
other articles, by some of our people, and expressed a wish that
they should be restored, promising, that if they were, the
governor’s dirk should be produced and returned to us to-morrow,
if we would meet him here.

Accordingly on the following day we rowed to the spot,
carrying with us the stolen property. We found here several
natives, but not Baneelon. We asked for him, and were told that
he was gone down the harbour with Barangaroo to fish. Although
disappointed at his breach of promise, we went on shore, and
mingled without distrust among those we found, acquainting them
that we had brought with us the articles of which they had been
plundered. On hearing this account, they expressed great joy, and
Imeerawanyee darting forward, claimed the sword. It was given to
him, and he had no sooner grasped it, than he hastened to
convince his mistress, that his prowess in war, was not inferior
to his skill in courtship. Singling out a yellow gum-tree for the
foe, he attacked it with great fierceness, calling to us to look
on, and accompanying his onset with all the gestures and
vociferation which they use in battle. Having conquered his
enemy, he laid aside his fighting face, and joined us with a
countenance which carried in it every mark of youth and good
nature.

Whether Abaroo’s coyness, and preference of another, had
displeased him, or it was owing to natural fickleness, he paid
her no farther attention, but seemed more delighted with us. He
had no beard, but was highly gratified in being combed and having
his hair clipped.

All the stolen property being brought on shore, an old man
came up, and claimed one of the fish-gigs, singling it from the
bundle, and taking only his own; and this honesty, within the
circle of their society, seemed to characterize them all.

During this time, it was observed, that one of the Indians,
instead of mixing with the rest, stood aloof, in a musing
posture, contemplating what passed. When we offered to approach
him, he shunned us not, and willingly shook hands with all who
chose to do so. He seemed to be between 30 and 40 years old, was
jolly, and had a thoughtful countenance, much marked by the
smallpox. He wore a string of bits of dried reed round his neck,
which I asked him to exchange for a black stock. He smiled at the
proposal, but made no offer of what I wanted; which our young
friend, Imeerawanyee, observing, flew to him, and taking off the
necklace, directly fixed it about my neck. I feared he would be
enraged, but he bore it with serenity, and suffered a gentleman
present to fasten his black stock upon him, with which he
appeared to be pleased. To increase his satisfaction, some other
trifle was given to him.

Having remained here an hour we went in quest of Baneelon,
agreeably to the directions which his companions pointed out. We
found him and Barangaroo shivering over a few lighted sticks, by
which they were dressing small fish, and their canoe hauled up on
the beach near them. On first seeing the boat, they ran into the
woods; but on being called by name, they came back, and consented
to our landing. We carried on shore with us the remaining part of
the fish-gigs and spears which had been stolen, and restored them
to Baneelon. Among other things, was a net full of fishing lines
and other tackle, which Barangaroo said was her property and,
immediately on receiving it, she slung it around her neck.

Baneelon inquired, with solicitude, about the state of the
governor’s wound, but he made no offer of restoring the dirk; and
when he was asked for it, he pretended to know nothing of it,
changing the conversation with great art, and asking for wine,
which was given to him.

At parting, we pressed him to appoint a day on which he should
come to Sydney, assuring him, that he would be well received, and
kindly treated. Doubtful, however, of being permitted to return,
he evaded our request, and declared that the governor must first
come and see him, which we promised should be done.

The governor did not hesitate to execute the engagement which
we had contracted for him. But Baneelon still resisted coming
among us, and matters continued in this fluctuating state until
the 8th of October, when a fire, which they had agreed to light
as a signal for us to visit them, was observed. The eager desire
by which we were stimulated to carry our point of effecting an
intercourse had appeared. Various parties accordingly set out to
meet them, provided with different articles, which we thought
would prove acceptable to them. We found assembled, Baneelon,
Barangaroo, and another young woman, and six men, all of whom
received us with welcome, except the grave looking gentleman
before mentioned, who stood aloof in his former musing posture.
When they saw that we had brought hatchets, and other articles
with us, they produced spears, fish-gigs, and lines, for the
purpose of barter,* which immediately commenced, to the
satisfaction of both parties. I had brought with me an old
blunted spear, which wanted repair. An Indian immediately
undertook to perform the task, and carrying it to a fire, tore
with his teeth a piece of bone from a fish-gig, which he fastened
on the spear with yellow gum, rendered flexible by heat.

[*It had long been our wish to establish a
commerce of this sort. It is a painful consideration, that every
previous addition to the cabinet of the virtuosi, from this
country, had wrung a tear from the plundered Indian.]

October, 1790. Many of them now consented to be shaved by a
barber whom we had purposely brought over. As I thought he who
could perform an operation of such importance must be deemed by
them an eminent personage, I bade him ask one of them for a fine
barbed spear which he held in his hand; but all the barber’s
eloquence was wasted on the Indian, who plainly gave him to
understand that he meant not to part with his spear, without
receiving an equivalent. Unfortunately, his price was a hatchet,
and the only one which I had brought with me was already disposed
of to the man who had pointed my spear. In vain did I tempt him
with a knife, a handkerchief, and a hat; nothing but a hatchet
seemed to be regarded. ‘Bulla mogo parrabugo’ (two hatchets
to-morrow) I repeatedly cried; but having probably experienced
our insincerity, he rejected the proposal with disdain. Finding
him inflexible, and longing to possess the spear, I told him at
length that I would go to Sydney and fetch what he required. This
seemed to satisfy, and he accompanied me to my boat, in which I
went away, and as quickly as possible procured what was necessary
to conclude the bargain. On my return, I was surprised to see all
our boats rowing towards home, and with them a canoe, in which
sat two Indians paddling. I pulled to them, and found that
Baneelon, and another Indian, were in one of the boats, and that
the whole formed a party going over to visit the governor. I now
learned, that during my absence, the governor had passed in a
boat, on his return from Rose Hill, near the place where they
were standing; and that finding he would not come to them,
although they had called to him to do so, they had at once
determined to venture themselves unreservedly among us. One of
the men in the canoe was the person to whom I was to give the
hatchet I had been to fetch; and directly as he saw me, he held
up his spear, and the exchange took place, with which, and
perhaps to reward me for the trouble I had taken, he was so
delighted that he presented me with a throwing-stick
‘gratis’.

Not seeing Barangaroo of the party, I asked for her, and was
informed that she had violently opposed Baneelon’s departure.
When she found persuasion vain, she had recourse to tears,
scolding, and threats, stamping the ground, and tearing her hair.
But Baneelon continuing determined, she snatched up in her rage
one of his fish-gigs, and dashed it with such fury on the rocks,
that it broke. To quiet her apprehensions on the score of her
husband’s safety, Mr. Johnson, attended by Abaroo, agreed to
remain as a hostage until Baneelon should return.

We landed our four friends opposite the hospital, and set out
for the governor’s house. On hearing of their arrival, such
numbers flocked to view them that we were apprehensive the crowd
of persons would alarm them, but they had left their fears
behind, and marched on with boldness and unconcern. When we
reached the governor’s house, Baneelon expressed honest joy to
see his old friend, and appeared pleased to find that he had
recovered of his wound. The governor asked for Wileemarin, and
they said he was at Broken Bay. Some bread and beef were
distributed among them but unluckily no fish was to be procured,
which we were sorry for, as a promise of it had been one of the
leading temptations by which they had been allured over. A
hatchet apiece was, however, given to them, and a couple of
petticoats and some fishing tackle sent for Barangaroo, and the
other woman.

The ceremony of introduction being finished, Baneelon seemed
to consider himself quite at home, running from room to room with
his companions, and introducing them to his old friends, the
domestics, in the most familiar manner. Among these last, he
particularly distinguished the governor’s orderly sergeant, whom
he kissed with great affection, and a woman who attended in the
kitchen; but the gamekeeper, M’Entire*, he continued to hold in
abhorrence, and would not suffer his approach.

[*Look at the account of the governor being
wounded, when his detestation of this man burst forth.]

Nor was his importance to his countrymen less conspicuous in
other respects. He undertook to explain the use and nature of
those things which were new to them. Some of his explanations
were whimsical enough. Seeing, for instance, a pair of snuffers,
he told them that they were “Nuffer* for candle,”–which the
others not comprehending, he opened the snuffers, and holding up
the fore-finger of his left hand, to represent a candle, made the
motion of snuffing it. Finding, that even this sagacious
interpretation failed, he threw down the snuffers in a rage, and
reproaching their stupidity, walked away.

[*The S is a letter which they cannot pronounce,
having no sound in their language similar to it. When bidden to
pronounce sun, they always say tun; salt, talt, and so of all
words wherein it occurs.]

It was observed, that a soft gentle tone of voice, which we
had taught him to use, was forgotten, and his native vociferation
returned in full force. But the tenderness which (like Arabanoo)
he had always manifested to children, he still retained; as
appeared by his behaviour to those who were presented to him.

The first wish they expressed to return, was complied with, in
order to banish all appearance of constraint, the party who had
conducted them to Sydney returning with them. When we reached the
opposite shore, we found Abaroo and the other woman fishing in a
canoe, and Mr. Johnson and Barangaroo sitting at the fire, the
latter employed in manufacturing fish-hooks. At a little
distance, on an adjoining eminence, sat an Indian, with his spear
in his hand, as if sentinel over the hostages, for the security
of his countrymen’s return. During our absence, Barangaroo had
never ceased whining, and reproaching her husband. Now that he
was returned, she met him with unconcern, and seemed intent on
her work only, but this state of repose did not long continue.
Baneelon, eyeing the broken fish-gig, cast at her a look of
savage fury and began to interrogate her, and it seemed more than
probable that the remaining part would be demolished about her
head had we not interposed to pacify him. Nor would we quit the
place until his forgiveness was complete, and his good humour
restored. No sooner, however, did she find her husband’s rage
subsided, than her hour of triumph commenced. The alarm and
trepidation she had manifested disappeared. Elated at his
condescension, and emboldened by our presence and the finery in
which we had decked her, she in turn assumed a haughty demeanour,
refused to answer his caresses, and viewed him with a reproaching
eye. Although long absence from female society had somewhat
blunted our recollection, the conduct of Barangaroo did not
appear quite novel to us, nor was our surprise very violent at
finding that it succeeded in subduing Baneelon who, when we
parted, seemed anxious only to please her.

Thus ended a day, the events of which served to complete what
an unhappy accident had begun. From this time our intercourse
with the natives, though partially interrupted, was never broken
off. We gradually continued, henceforth, to gain knowledge of
their customs and policy, the only knowledge which can lead to a
just estimate of national character.

CHAPTER X.

The arrival of the ‘Supply’ from Batavia; the State of the
Colony in November, 1790.

Joy sparkled in every countenance to see our old friend the
‘Supply’ (I hope no reader will be so captious as to quarrel with
the phrase) enter the harbour from Batavia on the 19th of
October. We had witnessed her departure with tears; we hailed her
return with transport.

Captain Ball was rather more than six months in making this
voyage, and is the first person who ever circumnavigated the
continent of New Holland. On his passage to Batavia, he had
discovered several islands, which he gave names to and, after
fighting his way against adverse elements and through unexplored
dangers, safely reached his destined port. He had well stored his
little bark with every necessary and conveniency which he judged
we should first want, leaving a cargo of rice and salt provisions
to be brought on by a Dutch snow, which he had hired and
freighted for the use of the settlement. While at Batavia, the
‘Supply’ had lost many of her people by sickness, and left
several others in the general hospital at that place.

As the arrival of the ‘Supply’ naturally leads the attention
from other subjects to the state of the colony, I shall here take
a review of it by transcribing a statement drawn from actual
observation soon after, exactly as I find it written in my
journal.

Cultivation, on a public scale, has for some time past been
given up here, (Sydney) the crop of last year being so miserable,
as to deter from farther experiment, in consequence of which the
government-farm is abandoned, and the people who were fixed on it
have been removed. Necessary public buildings advance fast; an
excellent storehouse of large dimensions, built of bricks and
covered with tiles, is just completed; and another planned which
will shortly be begun. Other buildings, among which I heard the
governor mention an hospital and permanent barracks for the
troops, may also be expected to arise soon. Works of this nature
are more expeditiously performed than heretofore, owing, I
apprehend, to the superintendants lately arrived, who are placed
over the convicts and compel them to labour. The first
difficulties of a new country being subdued may also contribute
to this comparative facility.

Vegetables are scarce, although the summer is so far advanced,
owing to want of rain. I do not think that all the showers of the
last four months put together, would make twenty-four hours rain.
Our farms, what with this and a poor soil, are in wretched
condition. My winter crop of potatoes, which I planted in days of
despair (March and April last), turned out very badly when I dug
them about two months back. Wheat returned so poorly last
harvest, that very little, besides Indian corn, has been sown
this year. The governor’s wound is quite healed, and he feels no
inconveniency whatever from it. With the natives we are hand and
glove. They throng the camp every day, and sometimes by their
clamour and importunity for bread and meat (of which they now all
eat greedily) are become very troublesome. God knows, we have
little enough for ourselves! Full allowance (if eight pounds of
flour and either seven pounds of beef, or four pounds of pork,
served alternately, per week, without either pease, oatmeal,
spirits, butter, or cheese, can be called so) is yet kept up; but
if the Dutch snow does not arrive soon it must be shortened, as
the casks in the storehouse, I observed yesterday, are woefully
decreased.

The convicts continue to behave pretty well; three only have
been hanged since the arrival of the last fleet, in the latter
end of June, all of whom were newcomers. The number of convicts
here diminishes every day; our principal efforts being wisely
made at Rose Hill, where the land is unquestionably better than
about this place. Except building, sawing and brickmaking,
nothing of consequence is now carried on here. The account which
I received a few days ago from the brickmakers of their labours,
was as follows. Wheeler (one of the master brick-makers) with two
tile stools and one brick stool, was tasked to make and burn
ready for use 30000 tiles and bricks per month. He had twenty-one
hands to assist him, who performed every thing; cut wood, dug
clay, etc. This continued (during the days of distress excepted,
when they did what they could) until June last. From June, with
one brick and two tile stools he has been tasked to make 40000
bricks and tiles monthly (as many of each sort as may be), having
twenty-two men and two boys to assist him, on the same terms of
procuring materials as before. They fetch the clay of which tiles
are made, two hundred yards; that for bricks is close at hand. He
says that the bricks are such as would be called in England,
moderately good, and he judges they would have fetched about 24
shillings per thousand at Kingston-upon-Thames (where he resided)
in the year 1784. Their greatest fault is being too brittle. The
tiles he thinks not so good as those made about London. The stuff
has a rotten quality, and besides wants the advantage of being
ground, in lieu of which they tread it.

King (another master bricklayer) last year, with the
assistance of sixteen men and two boys, made 11,000 bricks
weekly, with two stools. During short allowance did what he
could. Resumed his old task when put again on full allowance and
had his number of assistants augmented to twenty men and two
boys, on account of the increased distance of carrying wood for
the kilns. He worked at Hammersmith, for Mr. Scot, of that place.
He thinks the bricks made here as good as those made near London,
and says that in the year 1784, they would have sold for a guinea
per thousand and to have picked the kiln at thirty
shillings.’

Such is my Sydney detail dated the 12th of November, 1790.
Four days after I went to Rose Hill, and wrote there the
subjoined remarks.

November 16th. Got to Rose Hill in the evening. Next morning
walked round the whole of the cleared and cultivated land, with
the Rev. Mr. Johnson, who is the best farmer in the country.
Edward Dod, one of the governor’s household, who conducts
everything here in the agricultural line, accompanied us part of
the way, and afforded all the information he could. He estimates
the quantity of cleared and cultivated land at 200 acres. Of
these fifty-five are in wheat, barley, and a little oats, thirty
in maize, and the remainder is either just cleared of wood, or is
occupied by buildings, gardens, etc. Four enclosures of twenty
acres each, are planned for the reception of cattle, which may
arrive in the colony, and two of these are already fenced in. In
the centre of them is to be erected a house, for a person who
will be fixed upon to take care of the cattle. All these
enclosures are supplied with water; and only a part of the trees
which grew in them being cut down, gives to them a very park-like
and beautiful appearance.

Our survey commenced on the north side of the river. Dod says
he expects this year’s crop of wheat and barley from the
fifty-five acres to yield full 400 bushels. Appearances hitherto
hardly indicate so much. He says he finds the beginning of May
the best time to sow barley,* but that it may continue to be sown
until August. That sown in May is reaped in December; that of
August in January. He sowed his wheat, part in June and part in
July. He thinks June the best time, and says that he invariably
finds that which is deepest sown, grows strongest and best, even
as deep as three inches he has put it in, and found it to answer.
The wheat sown in June is now turning yellow; that of July is
more backward. He has used only the broad-cast husbandry, and
sowed two bushels per acre. The plough has never yet been tried
here; all the ground is hoed, and (as Dod confesses) very
incompetently turned up. Each convict labourer was obliged to hoe
sixteen rods a day, so that in some places the earth was but just
scratched over. The ground was left open for some months, to
receive benefit from the sun and air; and on that newly cleared
the trees were burnt, and the ashes dug in. I do not find that a
succession of crops has yet been attempted; surely it would help
to meliorate and improve the soil. Dod recommends strongly the
culture of potatoes, on a large scale, and says that were they
planted even as late as January they would answer, but this I
doubt. He is more than ever of opinion that without a large
supply of cattle nothing can be done. They have not at this time
either horse, cow, or sheep here. I asked him how the stock they
had was coming on. The fowls he said multiplied exceedingly, but
the hogs neither thrived or increased in number, for want of
food. He pointed out to us his best wheat, which looks tolerable,
and may perhaps yield 13 or 14 bushels per acre**. Next came the
oats which are in ear, though not more than six inches high: they
will not return as much seed as was sown. The barley, except one
patch in a corner of a field, little better than the oats.
Crossed the river and inspected the south side. Found the little
patch of wheat at the bottom of the crescent very bad. Proceeded
and examined the large field on the ascent to the westward: here
are about twenty-five acres of wheat, which from its appearance
we guessed would produce perhaps seven bushels an acre. The next
patch to this is in maize, which looks not unpromising; some of
the stems are stout, and beginning to throw out large broad
leaves, the surest sign of vigour. The view from the top of the
wheat field takes in, except a narrow slip, the whole of the
cleared land at Rose Hill. From not having before seen an opening
of such extent for the last three years, this struck us as grand
and capacious. The beautiful diversity of the ground (gentle hill
and dale) would certainly be reckoned pretty in any country.
Continued our walk, and crossed the old field, which is intended
to form part of the main street of the projected town. The wheat
in this field is rather better, but not much, than in the large
field before mentioned. The next field is maize, inferior to what
we have seen, but not despicable. An acre of maize, at the bottom
of the marine garden, is equal in luxuriancy of promise to any I
ever saw in any country.

[*The best crop of barley ever produced in New
South Wales, was sown by a private individual, in February 1790,
and reaped in the following October.]

[**As all the trees on our cleared ground were
cut down, and not grubbed up, the roots and stumps remain, on
which account a tenth part of surface in every acre must be
deducted. This is slovenly husbandry; but in a country where
immediate subsistence is wanted, it is perhaps necessary. None of
these stumps, when I left Port Jackson, showed any symptoms of
decay, though some of the trees had been cut down four years. To
the different qualities of the wood of Norfolk Island and New
South Wales, perhaps the difference of soil may in some measure
be traced. That of Norfolk Island is light and porous: it rots
and turns into mould in two years. Besides its hardness that of
Port Jackson abounds with red corrosive gum, which contributes
its share of mischief.]

The main street of the new town is already begun. It is to be
a mile long, and of such breadth as will make Pall Mall and
Portland Place “hide their diminished heads.” It contains at
present thirty-two houses completed, of twenty-four feet by
twelve each, on a ground floor only, built of wattles plastered
with clay, and thatched. Each house is divided into two rooms, in
one of which is a fire place and a brick chimney. These houses
are designed for men only; and ten is the number of inhabitants
allotted to each; but some of them now contain twelve or
fourteen, for want of better accommodation. More are building. In
a cross street stand nine houses for unmarried women; and
exclusive of all these are several small huts where convict
families of good character are allowed to reside. Of public
buildings, besides the old wooden barrack and store, there is a
house of lath and plaster, forty-four feet long by sixteen wide,
for the governor, on a ground floor only, with excellent
out-houses and appurtenances attached to it. A new brick store
house, covered with tiles, 100 feet long by twenty-four wide, is
nearly completed, and a house for the store-keeper. The first
stone of a barrack, 100 feet long by twenty-four wide, to which
are intended to be added wings for the officers, was laid to-day.
The situation of the barrack is judicious, being close to the
store-house, and within a hundred and fifty yards of the wharf,
where all boats from Sydney unload. To what I have already
enumerated, must be added an excellent barn, a granary, an
inclosed yard to rear stock in, a commodious blacksmith’s shop,
and a most wretched hospital, totally destitute of every
conveniency. Luckily for the gentleman who superintends this
hospital, and still more luckily for those who are doomed in case
of sickness to enter it, the air of Rose Hill has hitherto been
generally healthy. A tendency to produce slight inflammatory
disorders, from the rapid changes* of the temperature of the air,
is most to be dreaded.

[*In the close of the year 1788, when this
settlement was established, the thermometer has been known to
stand at 50 degrees a little before sunrise, and between one and
two o’ clock in the afternoon at above 100 degrees.]

‘The hours of labour for the convicts are the same here as at
Sydney. On Saturdays after ten o’clock in the morning they are
allowed to work in their own gardens. These gardens are at
present, from the long drought and other causes, in a most
deplorable state. Potatoes, I think, thrive better than any other
vegetable in them. For the public conveniency a baker is
established here in a good bakehouse, who exchanges with every
person bread for flour, on stipulated terms; but no compulsion
exists for any one to take his bread; it is left entirely to
every body’s own option to consume his flour as he pleases.
Divine service is performed here, morning and afternoon, one
Sunday in every month, when all the convicts are obliged to
attend church, under penalty of having a part of their allowance
of provisions stopped, which is done by the chaplain, who is a
justice of the peace.

‘For the punishment of offenders, where a criminal court is
not judged necessary, two or more justices, occasionally
assemble, and order the infliction of slight corporal punishment,
or short confinement in a strong room built for this purpose. The
military present here consists of two subalterns, two sergeants,
three corporals, a drummer, and twenty-one privates. These have
been occasionally augmented and reduced, as circumstances have
been thought to render it necessary.

Brick-kilns are now erected here, and bricks manufactured by a
convict of the name of Becket, who came out in the last fleet,
and has fifty-two people to work under him. He makes 25,000
bricks weekly. He says that they are very good, and would sell at
Birmingham, where he worked about eighteen months ago, at more
than 30 shillings per thousand.

Nothing farther of public nature remaining to examine, I next
visited a humble adventurer, who is trying his fortune here.
James Ruse, convict, was cast for seven years at Bodmin assizes,
in August 1782. He lay five years in prison and on board the
‘Dunkirk’ hulk at Plymouth, and then was sent to this country.
When his term of punishment expired, in August 1789, he claimed
his freedom, and was permitted by the governor, on promising to
settle in the country, to take in December following, an
uncleaned piece of ground, with an assurance that if he would
cultivate it, it should not be taken from him. Some assistance
was given him, to fell the timber, and he accordingly began. His
present account to me was as follows.

I was bred a husbandman, near Launcester in Cornwall. I
cleared my land as well as I could, with the help afforded me.
The exact limit of what ground I am to have, I do not yet know;
but a certain direction has been pointed out to me, in which I
may proceed as fast as I can cultivate. I have now an acre and a
half in bearded wheat, half an acre in maize, and a small kitchen
garden. On my wheat land I sowed three bushels of seed, the
produce of this country, broad cast. I expect to reap about
twelve or thirteen bushels. I know nothing of the cultivation of
maize, and cannot therefore guess so well at what I am likely to
gather. I sowed part of my wheat in May, and part in June. That
sown in May has thrived best. My maize I planted in the latter
end of August, and the beginning of September. My land I prepared
thus: having burnt the fallen timber off the ground, I dug in the
ashes, and then hoed it up, never doing more than eight, or
perhaps nine, rods in a day, by which means, it was not like the
government farm, just scratched over, but properly done. Then I
clod-moulded it, and dug in the grass and weeds. This I think
almost equal to ploughing. I then let it lie as long as I could,
exposed to air and sun; and just before I sowed my seed, turned
it all up afresh. When I shall have reaped my crop, I purpose to
hoe it again, and harrow it fine, and then sow it with
turnip-seed, which will mellow and prepare it for next year. My
straw, I mean to bury in pits, and throw in with it every thing
which I think will rot and turn to manure. I have no person to
help me, at present, but my wife, whom I married in this country;
she is industrious. The governor, for some time, gave me the help
of a convict man, but he is taken away. Both my wife and myself
receive our provisions regularly at the store, like all other
people. My opinion of the soil of my farm, is, that it is
middling, neither good or bad. I will be bound to make it do with
the aid of manure, but without cattle it will fail. The greatest
check upon me is, the dishonesty of the convicts who, in spite of
all my vigilance, rob me almost every night.

The annexed return will show the number of persons of all
descriptions at Rose Hill, at this period. On the morning of the
17th, I went down to Sydney.

Here terminates the transcription of my diary. It were vain to
suppose, that it can prove either agreeable or interesting to a
majority of readers but as this work is intended not only for
amusement, but information, I considered it right to present this
detail unaltered, either in its style or arrangement.

A return of the number of persons employed at Rose Hill,
November 16th, 1790.

[*Of these labourers, 16 are sawyers. The rest
are variously employed in clearing fresh land; in dragging brick
and timber carts; and a great number in making a road of a mile
long, through the main street, to the governor’s house.]

CHAPTER XI.

Farther Transactions of the Colony in November, 1790.

During the intervals of duty, our greatest source of
entertainment now lay in cultivating the acquaintance of our new
friends, the natives. Ever liberal of communication, no
difficulty but of understanding each other subsisted between us.
Inexplicable contradictions arose to bewilder our researches
which no ingenuity could unravel and no credulity reconcile.

Baneelon, from being accustomed to our manners, and
understanding a little English, was the person through whom we
wished to prosecute inquiry, but he had lately become a man of so
much dignity and consequence, that it was not always easy to
obtain his company. Clothes had been given to him at various
times, but he did not always condescend to wear them. One day he
would appear in them, and the next day he was to be seen carrying
them in a net slung around his neck. Farther to please him, a
brick house of twelve feet square was built for his use, and for
that of such of his countrymen as might choose to reside in it,
on a point of land fixed upon by himself. A shield, double cased
with tin, to ward off the spears of his enemies, was also
presented to him, by the governor.

Elated by these marks of favour, and sensible that his
importance with his countrymen arose in proportion to our
patronage of him, he warmly attached himself to our society. But
the gratitude of a savage is ever a precarious tenure. That of
Baneelon was fated to suffer suspension, and had well nigh been
obliterated by the following singular circumstance.

One day the natives were observed to assemble in more than an
ordinary number at their house on the point, and to be full of
bustle and agitation, repeatedly calling on the name of Baneelon,
and that of ‘deein’ (a woman). Between twelve and one o’clock
Baneelon, unattended, came to the governor at his house, and told
him that he was going to put to death a woman immediately, whom
he had brought from Botany Bay. Having communicated his
intention, he was preparing to go away, seeming not to wish that
the governor should be present at the performance of the
ceremony. But His Excellency was so struck with the fierce
gestures, and wild demeanour of the other, who held in his hand
one of our hatchets and frequently tried the sharpness of it,
that he determined to accompany him, taking with him Mr. Collins
and his orderly sergeant. On the road, Baneelon continued to talk
wildly and incoherently of what he would do, and manifested such
extravagant marks of fury and revenge, that his hatchet was taken
away from him, and a walking-stick substituted for it.

When they reached the house, they found several natives, of
both sexes lying promiscuously before the fire, and among them a
young woman, not more than sixteen years old, who at sight of
Baneelon, started, and raised herself half up. He no sooner saw
her than, snatching a sword of the country, he ran at her, and
gave her two severe wounds on the head and one on the shoulder,
before interference in behalf of the poor wretch could be made.
Our people now rushed in and seized him; but the other Indians
continued quiet spectators of what was passing, either awed by
Baneelon’s superiority or deeming it a common case, unworthy of
notice and interposition. In vain did the governor by turns
soothe and threaten him. In vain did the sergeant point his
musquet at him. He seemed dead to every passion but revenge;
forgot his affection to his old friends and, instead of complying
with the request they made, furiously brandished his sword at the
governor, and called aloud for his hatchet to dispatch the
unhappy victim of his barbarity. Matters now wore a serious
aspect. The other Indians appeared under the control of Baneelon
and had begun to arm and prepare their spears, as if determined
to support him in his violence.

Farther delay might have been attended with danger. The
‘Supply’ was therefore immediately hailed, and an armed boat
ordered to be sent on shore. Luckily, those on board the ship had
already observed the commotion and a boat was ready, into which
captain Ball, with several of his people stepped, armed with
musquets, and put off. It was reasonable to believe that so
powerful a reinforcement would restore tranquillity, but Baneelon
stood unintimidated at disparity of numbers and boldly demanded
his prisoner, whose life, he told the governor, he was determined
to sacrifice, and afterwards to cut off her head. Everyone was
eager to know what could be the cause of such inveterate
inhumanity. Undaunted, he replied that her father was his enemy,
from whom he had received the wound in his forehead
beforementioned; and that when he was down in battle, and under
the lance of his antagonist, this woman had contributed to assail
him. “She is now,” added he, “my property: I have ravished her by
force from her tribe: and I will part with her to no person
whatever, until my vengeance shall be glutted.”

Farther remonstrance would have been wasted. His Excellency
therefore ordered the woman to be taken to the hospital in order
that her wounds might be dressed. While this was doing, one of
the natives, a young man named Boladeree, came up and supplicated
to be taken into the boat also, saying that he was her husband,
which she confirmed and begged that he might be admitted. He was
a fine well grown lad, of nineteen or twenty years old, and was
one of the persons who had been in the house in the scene just
described, which he had in no wise endeavoured to prevent, or to
afford assistance to the poor creature who had a right to his
protection.

All our people now quitted the place, leaving the exasperated
Baneelon and his associates to meditate farther schemes of
vengeance. Before they parted he gave them, however, to
understand that he would follow the object of his resentment to
the hospital, and kill her there, a threat which the governor
assured him if he offered to carry into execution he should be
immediately shot. Even this menace he treated with disdain.

To place the refugees in security, a sentinel was ordered to
take post at the door of the house, in which they were lodged.
Nevertheless they attempted to get away in the night, either from
fear that we were not able to protect them, or some apprehension
of being restrained from future liberty. When questioned where
they proposed to find shelter, they said they would go to the
Cameragal tribe, with whom they should be safe. On the following
morning, Imeerawanyee* joined them, and expressed strong fears of
Baneelon’s resentment. Soon after a party of natives, known to
consist of Baneelon’s chosen friends, with a man of the name of
Bigon, at their head, boldly entered the hospital garden, and
tried to carry off all three by force. They were driven back and
threatened, to which their leader only replied by contemptuous
insolence.

[*This good-tempered lively lad, was become a
great favourite with us, and almost constantly lived at the
governor’s house. He had clothes made up for him, and to amuse
his mind, he was taught to wait at table. One day a lady, Mrs.
McArthur, wife of an officer of the garrison, dined there, as did
Nanbaree. This latter, anxious that his countryman should appear
to advantage in his new office, gave him many instructions,
strictly charging him, among other things, to take away the
lady’s plate, whenever she should cross her knife and fork, and
to give her a clean one. This Imeerawanyee executed, not only to
Mrs. McArthur, but to several of the other guests. At last
Nanbaree crossed his knife and fork with great gravity, casting a
glance at the other, who looked for a moment with cool
indifference at what he had done, and then turned his head
another way. Stung at this supercilious treatment, he called in
rage, to know why he was not attended to, as well as the rest of
the company. But Imeerawanyee only laughed; nor could all the
anger and reproaches of the other prevail upon him to do that for
one of his countrymen, which he cheerfully continued to perform
to every other person.]

Baneelon finding he could not succeed, withdrew himself for
two days. At length he made his appearance, attended only by his
wife. Unmindful of what had so recently happened, he marched
singly up to the governor’s house, and on being refused
admittance, though unarmed, attempted to force the sentinel. The
soldier spared him, but the guard was instantly sent for, and
drawn up in front of the house; not that their co-operation was
necessary, but that their appearance might terrify. His ardour
now cooled, and he seemed willing, by submission, to atone for
his misconduct. His intrepid disregard of personal risk, nay of
life, could not however, but gain admiration; though it led us to
predict, that this Baneelon, whom imagination had fondly
pictured, like a second Omai, the gaze of a court and the
scrutiny of the curious, would perish untimely, the victim of his
own temerity.

To encourage his present disposition of mind, and to try if
feelings of compassion towards an enemy, could be exerted by an
Indian warrior, the governor ordered him to be taken to the
hospital, that he might see the victim of his ferocity. He
complied in sullen silence. When about to enter the room in which
she lay, he appeared to have a momentary struggle with himself,
which ended his resentment. He spoke to her with kindness, and
professed sorrow for what he had done, and promised her future
protection. Barangaroo, who had accompanied him, now took the
alarm: and as in shunning one extreme we are ever likely to rush
into another, she thought him perhaps too courteous and tender.
Accordingly she began to revile them both with great bitterness,
threw stones at the girl and attempted to beat her with a
club.

Here terminated this curious history, which I leave to the
reader’s speculation. Whether human sacrifices of prisoners be
common among them is a point which all our future inquiry never
completely determined. It is certain that no second instance of
this sort was ever witnessed by us.

CHAPTER XII.

Transactions of the Colony in Part of December, 1790.

On the 9th of the month, a sergeant of marines, with three
convicts, among whom was McEntire, the governor’s gamekeeper (the
person of whom Baneelon had, on former occasions, shown so much
dread and hatred) went out on a shooting party. Having passed the
north arm of Botany Bay, they proceeded to a hut formed of
boughs, which had been lately erected on this peninsula, for the
accommodation of sportsmen who wished to continue by night in the
woods; for, as the kangaroos in the day-time, chiefly keep in the
cover, it is customary on these parties to sleep until near
sunset, and watch for the game during the night, and in the early
part of the morning. Accordingly, having lighted a fire, they lay
down, without distrust or suspicion.

About one o’clock, the sergeant was awakened by a rustling
noise in the bushes near him, and supposing it to proceed from a
kangaroo, called to his comrades, who instantly jumped up. On
looking about more narrowly, they saw two natives with spears in
their hands, creeping towards them, and three others a little
farther behind. As this naturally created alarm, McEntire said,
“don’t be afraid, I know them,” and immediately laying down his
gun, stepped forward, and spoke to them in their own language.
The Indians, finding they were discovered, kept slowly
retreating, and McEntire accompanied them about a hundred yards,
talking familiarly all the while.

One of them now jumped on a fallen tree and, without giving
the least warning of his intention, launched his spear at
McEntire and lodged it in his left side. The person who committed
this wanton act was described as a young man with a speck or
blemish on his left eye That he had been lately among us was
evident from his being newly shaved.

The wounded man immediately drew back and, joining his party,
cried, “I am a dead man”. While one broke off the end of the
spear, the other two set out with their guns in pursuit of the
natives; but their swiftness of foot soon convinced our people of
the impossibility of reaching them. It was now determined to
attempt to carry McEntire home, as his death was apprehended to
be near, and he expressed a longing desire not to be left to
expire in the woods. Being an uncommonly robust muscular man,
notwithstanding a great effusion of blood, he was able, with the
assistance of his comrades, to creep slowly along, and reached
Sydney about two o’clock the next morning. On the wound being
examined by the surgeons, it was pronounced mortal. The poor
wretch now began to utter the most dreadful exclamations, and to
accuse himself of the commission of crimes of the deepest dye,
accompanied with such expressions of his despair of God’s mercy,
as are too terrible to repeat.

In the course of the day, Colbee, and several more natives
came in, and were taken to the bed where the wounded man lay.
Their behaviour indicated that they had already heard of the
accident, as they repeated twice or thrice the name of the
murderer Pimelwi, saying that he lived at Botany Bay. To gain
knowledge of their treatment of similar wounds, one of the
surgeons made signs of extracting the spear, but this they
violently opposed, and said, if it were done, death would
instantly follow.

On the 12th, the extraction of the spear was, however, judged
practicable, and was accordingly performed. That part of it which
had penetrated the body measured seven inches and a half long,
having on it a wooden barb, and several smaller ones of stone,
fastened on with yellow gum, most of which, owing to the force
necessary in extraction, were torn off and lodged in the patient.
The spear had passed between two ribs, and had wounded the left
lobe of the lungs. He lingered* until the 20th of January, and
then expired. On opening the corpse, it was found that the left
lung had perished from suppuration, its remains adhering to the
ribs. Some pieces of stone, which had dropped from the spear were
seen, but no barb of wood.

[*From the aversion uniformly shown by all the
natives to this unhappy man, he had long been suspected by us of
having in his excursions, shot and injured them. To gain
information on this head from him, the moment of contrition was
seized. On being questioned with great seriousness, he, however,
declared that he had never fired but once on a native, and then
had not killed, but severely wounded him and this in his own
defence. Notwithstanding this death-bed confession, most people
doubted the truth of the relation, from his general character and
other circumstances.]

The governor was at Rose-hill when this accident happened. On
the day after he returned to Sydney, the following order was
issued:

Several tribes of the natives still continuing to throw spears
at any man they meet unarmed, by which several have been killed,
or dangerously wounded, the governor, in order to deter the
natives from such practices in future, has ordered out a party to
search for the man who wounded the convict McEntire, in so
dangerous a manner on Friday last, though no offence was offered
on his part, in order to make a signal example of that tribe. At
the same time, the governor strictly forbids, under penalty of
the severest punishment, any soldier or other person, not
expressly ordered out for that purpose, ever to fire on any
native except in his own defence; or to molest him in any shape,
or to bring away any spears, or other articles which they may
find belonging to those people. The natives will be made severe
examples of whenever any man is wounded by them; but this will be
done in a manner which may satisfy them that it is a punishment
inflicted on them for their own bad conduct, and of which they
cannot be made sensible if they are not treated with kindness
while they continue peaceable and quiet.

A party, consisting of two captains, two subalterns, and forty
privates, with a proper number of non-commissioned officers from
the garrison, with three days provisions, etc. are to be ready to
march to-morrow morning at day-light, in order to bring in six of
those natives who reside near the head of Botany Bay; or, if that
should be found impracticable, to put that number to death.

Just previous to this order being issued, the author of this
publication received a direction to attend the governor at head
quarters immediately. I went, and his excellency informed me that
he had pitched upon me to execute the foregoing command. He added
that the two subalterns who were to be drawn from the marine
corps, should be chosen by myself; that the sergeant and the two
convicts who were with McEntire, should attend as guides; that we
were to proceed to the peninsula at the head of Botany Bay; and
thence, or from any part of the north arm of the bay, we were, if
practicable, to bring away two natives as prisoners; and to put
to death ten; that we were to destroy all weapons of war but
nothing else; that no hut was to be burned; that all women and
children were to remain uninjured, not being comprehended within
the scope of the order; that our operations were to be directed
either by surprise or open force; that after we had made any
prisoners, all communication, even with those natives with whom
we were in habits of intercourse, was to be avoided, and none of
them suffered to approach us. That we were to cut off and bring
in the heads of the slain; for which purpose hatchets and bags
would be furnished. And finally, that no signal of amity or
invitation should be used in order to allure them to us; or if
made on their part, to be answered by us: for that such conduct
would be not only present treachery, but give them reason to
distrust every future mark of peace and friendship on our
part.

His excellency was now pleased to enter into the reasons which
had induced him to adopt measures of such severity. He said that
since our arrival in the country, no less than seventeen of our
people had either been killed or wounded by the natives; that he
looked upon the tribe known by the name of Bideegal, living on
the beforementioned peninsula, and chiefly on the north arm of
Botany Bay, to be the principal aggressors; that against this
tribe he was determined to strike a decisive blow, in order, at
once to convince them of our superiority and to infuse an
universal terror, which might operate to prevent farther
mischief. That his observations on the natives had led him to
conclude that although they did not fear death individually, yet
that the relative weight and importance of the different tribes
appeared to be the highest object of their estimation, as each
tribe deemed its strength and security to consist wholly in its
powers, aggregately considered. That his motive for having so
long delayed to use violent measures had arisen from believing,
that in every former instance of hostility, they had acted either
from having received injury, or from misapprehension.

“To the latter of these causes,” added he, “I attribute my own
wound, but in this business of McEntire, I am fully persuaded
that they were unprovoked, and the barbarity of their conduct
admits of no extenuation; for I have separately examined the
sergeant, of whose veracity I have the highest opinion, and the
two convicts; and their story is short, simple, and alike. I have
in vain tried to stimulate Baneelon, Colbee, and the other
natives who live among us, to bring in the aggressor. Yesterday,
indeed, they promised me to do it, and actually went away as if
bent on such a design; but Baneelon, instead of directing his
steps to Botany Bay, crossed the harbour in his canoe, in order
to draw the foreteeth of some of the young men; and Colbee, in
the room of fulfilling his engagement, is loitering about the
lookout house. Nay, so far from wishing even to describe
faithfully the person of the man who has thrown the spear, they
pretended that he has a distorted foot, which is a palpable
falsehood. So that we have our efforts only to depend upon; and I
am resolved to execute the prisoners who may be brought in, in
the most public and exemplary manner, in the presence of as many
of their countrymen as can be collected, after having explained
the cause of such a punishment; and my fixed determination to
repeat it, whenever any future breach of good conduct on their
side shall render it necessary.”

Here the governor stopped, and addressing himself to me, said
if I could propose any alteration of the orders under which I was
to act, he would patiently listen to me. Encouraged by this
condescension, I begged leave to offer for consideration whether,
instead of destroying ten persons, the capture of six would not
better answer all the purposes for which the expedition was to be
undertaken; as out of this number, a part might be set aside for
retaliation; and the rest, at a proper time, liberated, after
having seen the fate of their comrades and being made sensible of
the cause of their own detention.

This scheme, his Excellency was pleased instantly to adopt,
adding, “if six cannot be taken, let this number be shot. Should
you, however, find it practicable to take so many, I will hang
two and send the rest to Norfolk Island for a certain period,
which will cause their countrymen to believe that we have
dispatched them secretly.” The order was accordingly altered to
its present form; and I took my leave to prepare, after being
again cautioned not to deceive by holding signals of amity.

At four o’clock on the morning of the 14th we marched The
detachment consisted, besides myself, of Captain Hill of the New
South Wales Corps, Lieutenants Poulder and Dawes, of the marines,
Mr. Worgan and Mr. Lowes, surgeons, three sergeants, three
corporals, and forty private soldiers, provided with three days
provisions, ropes to bind our prisoners with, and hatchets and
bags to cut off and contain the heads of the slain. By nine
o’clock this terrific procession reached the peninsula at the
head of Botany Bay, but after having walked in various directions
until four o’clock in the afternoon, without seeing a native, we
halted for the night.

At daylight on the following morning our search recommenced.
We marched in an easterly direction, intending to fall in with
the south-west arm of the bay, about three miles above its mouth,
which we determined to scour, and thence passing along the head
of the peninsula, to proceed to the north arm, and complete our
Search. However, by a mistake of our guides, at half past seven
o’clock instead of finding ourselves on the south-west arm, we
came suddenly upon the sea shore, at the head of the peninsula,
about midway between the two arms. Here we saw five Indians on
the beach, whom we attempted to surround; but they penetrated our
design, and before we could get near enough to effect our
purpose, ran off. We pursued; but a contest between heavy-armed
Europeans, fettered by ligatures, and naked unencumbered Indians,
was too unequal to last long. They darted into the wood and
disappeared.

The alarm being given, we were sensible that no hope of
success remained, but by a rapid movement to a little village (if
five huts deserve the name) which we knew stood on the nearest
point of the north arm, where possibly someone unapprised of our
approach, might yet be found. Thither we hastened; but before we
could reach it three canoes, filled with Indians, were seen
paddling over in the utmost hurry and trepidation, to the
opposite shore, where universal alarm prevailed. All we could now
do was to search the huts for weapons of war: but we found
nothing except fish gigs, which we left untouched.

On our return to our baggage (which we had left behind under a
small guard near the place where the pursuit had begun) we
observed a native fishing in shallow water not higher than his
waist, at the distance of 300 yards from the land. In such a
situation it would not have been easily practicable either to
shoot, or seize him. I therefore determined to pass without
noticing him, as he seemed either from consciousness of his own
security, or from some other cause, quite unintimidated at our
appearance. At length he called to several of us by name, and in
spite of our formidable array, drew nearer with unbounded
confidence. Surprised at his behaviour I ordered a halt, that he
might overtake us, fully resolved, whoever he might be, that he
should be suffered to come to us and leave us uninjured.
Presently we found it to be our friend Colbee; and he joined us
at once with his wonted familiarity and unconcern. We asked him
where Pimelwi was, and found that he perfectly comprehended the
nature of our errand, for he described him to have fled to the
southward; and to be at such a distance, as had we known the
account to be true, would have prevented our going in search of
him, without a fresh supply of provisions.

When we arrived at our baggage, Colbee sat down, ate, drank,
and slept with us, from ten o’clock until past noon. We asked him
several questions about Sydney, which he had left on the
preceding day*; and he told us he had been present at an
operation performed at the hospital, where Mr. White had cut off
a woman’s leg. The agony and cries of the poor sufferer he
depicted in a most lively manner.

[*He had it seems visited the governor about
noon, after having gained information from Nanbaree of our march,
and for what purpose it was undertaken. This he did not scruple
to tell to the governor; proclaiming at the same time, a
resolution of going to Botany Bay, which his excellency
endeavoured to dissuade him from by every argument he could
devise: a blanket, a hatchet, a jacket, or aught else he would
ask for, was offered to him in vain, if he would not go. At last
it was determined to try to eat him down, by setting before him
his favourite food, of which it was hoped he would feed so
voraciously, as to render him incapable of executing his
intention. A large dish of fish was accordingly set before him.
But after devouring a light horseman, and at least five pounds of
beef and bread, even until the sight of food became disgusting to
him, he set out on his journey with such lightness and gaiety, as
plainly shewed him to be a stranger to the horrors of
indigestion.]

At one o’clock we renewed our march, and at three halted near
a freshwater swamp, where we resolved to remain until morning:
that is, after a day of severe fatigue, to pass a night of
restless inquietude, when weariness is denied repose by swarms of
mosquitoes and sandflies, which in the summer months bite and
sting the traveller, without measure or intermission.

Next morning we bent our steps homeward; and, after wading
breast-high through two arms of the sea, as broad as the Thames
at Westminster, were glad to find ourselves at Sydney, between
one and two o’clock in the afternoon.

The few remarks which I was able to make on the country
through which we had passed, were such as will not tempt
adventurers to visit it on the score of pleasure or advantage.
The soil of every part of the peninsula, which we had traversed,
is shallow and sandy, and its productions meagre and wretched.
When forced to quit the sand, we were condemned to drag through
morasses, or to clamber over rocks, unrefreshed by streams, and
unmarked by diversity. Of the soil I brought away several
specimens.

Our first expedition having so totally failed, the governor
resolved to try the fate of a second; and the ‘painful
pre-eminence’ again devolved on me.

The orders under which I was commanded to act differing in no
respect from the last, I resolved to try once more to surprise
the village beforementioned. And in order to deceive the natives,
and prevent them from again frustrating our design by
promulgating it, we feigned that our preparations were directed
against Broken Bay; and that the man who had wounded the governor
was the object of punishment. It was now also determined, being
full moon, that our operations should be carried on in the night,
both for the sake of secrecy, and for avoiding the extreme heat
of the day.

A little before sun-set on the evening of the 22nd, we
marched. Lieutenant Abbot, and ensign Prentice, of the New South
Wales corps, were the two officers under my command, and with
three sergeants, three corporals, and thirty privates, completed
the detachment.

We proceeded directly to the fords of the north arm of Botany
Bay, which we had crossed in our last expedition, on the banks of
which we were compelled to wait until a quarter past two in the
morning, for the ebb of the tide. As these passing-places consist
only of narrow slips of ground, on each side of which are
dangerous holes; and as fording rivers in the night is at all
times an unpleasant task, I determined before we entered the
water, to disburthen the men as much as possible; that in case of
stepping wrong every one might be as ready, as circumstances
would admit, to recover himself. The firelock and cartouche-box
were all that we carried, the latter tied fast on the top of the
head, to prevent it from being wetted. The knapsacks, etc. I left
in charge of a sergeant and six men, who from their low stature
and other causes, were most likely to impede our march, the
success of which I knew hinged on our ability, by a rapid
movement, to surprise the village before daybreak.

The two rivers were crossed without any material accident: and
in pursuit of my resolution, I ordered the guides to conduct us
by the nearest route, without heeding difficulty, or impediment
of road. Having continued to push along the river-bank very
briskly for three quarters of an hour, we were suddenly stopped
by a creek, about sixty yards wide, which extended to our right,
and appeared dry from the tide being out: I asked if it could be
passed, or whether it would be better to wheel round the head of
it. Our guides answered that it was bad to cross, but might be
got over, which would save us more than a quarter of a mile.
Knowing the value of time, I directly bade them to push through,
and every one began to follow as well as he could. They who were
foremost had not, however, got above half over when the
difficulty of progress was sensibly experienced. We were
immersed, nearly to the waist in mud, so thick and tenacious,
that it was not without the most vigorous exertion of every
muscle of the body, that the legs could be disengaged. When we
had reached the middle, our distress became not only more
pressing, but serious, and each succeeding step, buried us
deeper. At length a sergeant of grenadiers stuck fast, and
declared himself incapable of moving either forward or backward;
and just after, Ensign Prentice and I felt ourselves in a similar
predicament, close together. ‘I find it impossible to move; I am
sinking;’ resounded on every side. What to do I knew not: every
moment brought increase of perplexity, and augmented danger, as
those who could not proceed kept gradually subsiding. From our
misfortunes, however, those in the rear profited. Warned by what
they saw and heard, they inclined to the right towards the head
of the creek, and thereby contrived to pass over.

Our distress would have terminated fatally, had not a soldier
cried out to those on shore to cut boughs of trees*, and throw
them to us–a lucky thought, which certainly saved many of us
from perishing miserably; and even with this assistance, had we
been burdened by our knapsacks, we could not have emerged; for it
employed us near half an hour to disentangle some of our number.
The sergeant of grenadiers in particular, was sunk to his
breast-bone, and so firmly fixed in that the efforts of many men
were required to extricate him, which was effected in the moment
after I had ordered one of the ropes, destined to bind the
captive Indians, to be fastened under his arms.

[*I had often read of this contrivance to
facilitate the passage of a morass. But I confess, that in my
confusion I had entirely forgotten it, and probably should have
continued to do so until too late to be of use.]

Having congratulated each other on our escape from this
‘Serbonian Bog,’ and wiped our arms (half of which were rendered
unserviceable by the mud) we once more pushed forward to our
object, within a few hundred yards of which we found ourselves
about half an hour before sunrise. Here I formed the detachment
into three divisions, and having enjoined the most perfect
silence, in order, if possible, to deceive Indian vigilance, each
division was directed to take a different route, so as to meet at
the village at the same moment.

We rushed rapidly on, and nothing could succeed more exactly
than the arrival of the several detachments. To our astonishment,
however, we found not a single native at the huts; nor was a
canoe to be seen on any part of the bay. I was at first inclined
to attribute this to our arriving half an hour too late, from the
numberless impediments we had encountered. But on closer
examination, there appeared room to believe, that many days had
elapsed since an Indian had been on the spot, as no mark of fresh
fires, or fish bones, was to be found.

Disappointed and fatigued, we would willingly have profited by
the advantage of being near water, and have halted to refresh.
But on consultation, it was found, that unless we reached in an
hour the rivers we had so lately passed, it would be impossible,
on account of the tide, to cross to our baggage, in which case we
should be without food until evening. We therefore pushed back,
and by dint of alternately running and walking, arrived at the
fords, time enough to pass with ease and safety. So excessive,
however, had been our efforts, and so laborious our progress,
that several of the soldiers, in the course of the last two
miles, gave up, and confessed themselves unable to proceed
farther. All that I could do for these poor fellows, was to order
their comrades to carry their muskets, and to leave with them a
small party of those men who were least exhausted, to assist them
and hurry them on. In three quarters of an hour after we had
crossed the water, they arrived at it, just time enough to effect
a passage.

The necessity of repose, joined to the succeeding heat of the
day, induced us to prolong our halt until four o’clock in the
afternoon, when we recommenced our operations on the opposite
side of the north arm to that we had acted upon in the morning.
Our march ended at sunset, without our seeing a single native. We
had passed through the country which the discoverers of Botany
Bay extol as ‘some of the finest meadows in the world*.’ These
meadows, instead of grass, are covered with high coarse rushes,
growing in a rotten spongy bog, into which we were plunged
knee-deep at every step.

[*The words which are quoted may be found in Mr.
Cook’s first voyage, and form part of his description of Botany
Bay. It has often fallen to my lot to traverse these fabled
plains; and many a bitter execration have I heard poured on those
travellers, who could so faithlessly relate what they saw.]

Our final effort was made at half past one o’clock next
morning; and after four hours toil, ended as those preceding it
had done, in disappointment and vexation. At nine o’clock we
returned to Sydney, to report our fruitless peregrination.

But if we could not retaliate on the murderer of M’Entire, we
found no difficulty in punishing offences committed within our
own observation. Two natives, about this time, were detected in
robbing a potato garden. When seen, they ran away, and a sergeant
and a party of soldiers were dispatched in pursuit of them.
Unluckily it was dark when they overtook them, with some women at
a fire; and the ardour of the soldiers transported them so far
that, instead of capturing the offenders, they fired in among
them. The women were taken, but the two men escaped.

On the following day, blood was traced from the fireplace to
the sea-side, where it seemed probable that those who had lost
it, had embarked. The natives were observed to become immediately
shy; but an exact knowledge of the mischief which had been
committed, was not gained until the end of two days, when they
said that a man of the name of Bangai (who was known to be one of
the pilferers) was wounded and dead. Imeerawanyee, however,
whispered that though he was wounded, he was not dead. A hope now
existed that his life might be saved; and Mr. White, taking
Imeerawanyee, Nanbaree, and a woman with him, set out for the
spot where he was reported to be. But on their reaching it, they
were told by some people who were there that the man was dead,
and that the corpse was deposited in a bay about a mile off.
Thither they accordingly repaired, and found it as described,
covered–except one leg, which seemed to be designedly left
bare–with green boughs and a fire burning near it. Those who had
performed the funeral obsequies seemed to have been particularly
solicitous for the protection of the face, which was covered with
a thick branch, interwoven with grass and fern so as to form a
complete screen. Around the neck was a strip of the bark of which
they make fishing lines, and a young strait stick growing near
was stripped of its bark and bent down so as to form an arch over
the body, in which position it was confined by a forked branch
stuck into the earth.

On examining the corpse, it was found to be warm. Through the
shoulder had passed a musquet ball, which had divided the
subclavian artery and caused death by loss of blood. No mark of
any remedy having been applied could be discovered. Possibly the
nature of the wound, which even among us would baffle cure
without amputation of the arm at the shoulder, was deemed so
fatal, that they despaired of success, and therefore left it to
itself. Had Mr. White found the man alive, there is little room
to think that he could have been of any use to him; for that an
Indian would submit to so formidable and alarming an operation
seems hardly probable.

None of the natives who had come in the boat would touch the
body, or even go near it, saying, the mawn would come; that is
literally, ‘the spirit of the deceased would seize them’. Of the
people who died among us, they had expressed no such
apprehension. But how far the difference of a natural death, and
one effected by violence, may operate on their fears to induce
superstition; and why those who had performed the rites of
sepulture should not experience similar fears and reluctance, I
leave to be determined. Certain it is (as I shall insist upon
more hereafter), that they believe the spirit of the dead not to
be extinct with the body.

Baneelon took an odd method of revenging the death of his
countryman. At the head of several of his tribe, he robbed one of
the private boats of fish, threatening the people, who were
unarmed, that in case they resisted he would spear them. On being
taxed by the governor with this outrage, he at first stoutly
denied it; but on being confronted with the people who were in
the boat, he changed his language, and, without deigning even to
palliate his offence, burst into fury and demanded who had killed
Bangai.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Transactions of the Colony continued to the End of May,
1791.

December, 1790. The Dutch snow from Batavia arrived on the
17th of the month, after a passage of twelve weeks, in which she
had lost sixteen of her people. But death, to a man who has
resided at Batavia, is too familiar an object to excite either
terror or regret. All the people of the ‘Supply’ who were left
there sick, except one midshipman, had also perished in that
fatal climate.

The cargo of the snow consisted chiefly of rice, with a small
quantity of beef, pork, and flour.

A letter was received by this vessel, written by the Shebander
at Batavia, to governor Phillip, acquainting him that war had
commenced between England and Spain. As this letter was written
in the Dutch language we did not find it easy of translation. It
filled us, however, with anxious perturbation, and with wishes as
impotent, as they were eager, in the cause of our country. Though
far beyond the din of arms, we longed to contribute to her glory,
and to share in her triumphs.

Placed out of the reach of attack, both by remoteness and
insignificancy, our only dread lay lest those supplies intended
for our consumption should be captured. Not, however, to be found
totally unprovided in case an enemy should appear, a battery was
planned near the entrance of Sydney Cove, and other formidable
preparations set on foot.

The commencement of the year 1791, though marked by no
circumstances particularly favourable, beamed far less
inauspicious than that of 1790 had done.

January, 1791. No circumstance, however apparently trivial,
which can tend to throw light on a new country, either in respect
of its present situation, or its future promise, should pass
unregarded. On the 24th of January, two bunches of grapes were
cut in the governor’s garden, from cuttings of vines brought
three years before from the Cape of Good Hope. The bunches were
handsome, the fruit of a moderate size, but well filled out and
the flavour high and delicious.

The first step after unloading the Dutch snow was to dispatch
the ‘Supply’ to Norfolk Island for captain Hunter, and the crew
of the ‘Sirius’ who had remained there ever since the loss of
that ship. It had always been the governor’s wish to hire the
Dutchman, for the purpose of transporting them to England. But
the frantic extravagant behaviour of the master of her, for a
long time frustrated the conclusion of a contract. He was so
totally lost to a sense of reason and propriety, as to ask eleven
pounds per ton, monthly, for her use, until she should arrive
from England, at Batavia. This was treated with proper contempt;
and he was at last induced to accept twenty shillings a ton, per
month (rating her at three hundred tons) until she should arrive
in England–being about the twenty-fifth part of his original
demand. And even at this price she was, perhaps, the dearest
vessel ever hired on a similar service, being totally destitute
of every accommodation and every good quality which could promise
to render so long a voyage either comfortable or expeditious.

February, 1791. On the 26th, Captain Hunter, his officers and
ship’s company joined us; and on the 28th of March the snow
sailed with them for England, intending to make a northern
passage by Timor and Batavia, the season being too far advanced
to render the southern route by Cape Horn practicable*.

[*They did not arrive in England until April,
1792.]

Six days previous to the departure of captain Hunter, the
indefatigable ‘Supply’ again sailed for Norfolk Island, carrying
thither captain Hill and a detachment of the New South Wales
corps. A little native boy named Bondel, who had long
particularly attached himself to captain Hill, accompanied him,
at his own earnest request. His father had been killed in battle
and his mother bitten in two by a shark: so that he was an
orphan, dependant on the humanity of his tribe for protection*.
His disappearance seemed to make no impression on the rest of his
countrymen, who were apprized of his resolution to go. On the
return of the ‘Supply’ they inquired eagerly for him, and on
being told that the place he was gone to afforded plenty of birds
and other good fare, innumerable volunteers presented themselves
to follow him, so great was their confidence in us and so little
hold of them had the amor patriae.

[*I am of opinion that such protection is always
extended to children who may be left destitute.]

March, 1791. The snow had but just sailed, when a very daring
manoeuvre was carried into execution, with complete success, by a
set of convicts, eleven in number, including a woman, wife of one
of the party, and two little children. They seized the governor’s
cutter and putting into her a seine, fishing-lines, and hooks,
firearms, a quadrant, compass, and some provisions, boldly pushed
out to sea, determined to brave every danger and combat every
hardship, rather than remain longer in a captive state. Most of
these people had been brought out in the first fleet, and the
terms of transportation of some of them were expired. Among them
were a fisherman, a carpenter, and some competent navigators, so
that little doubt was entertained that a scheme so admirably
planned would be adequately executed*. When their elopement was
discovered, a pursuit was ordered by the governor. But the
fugitives had made too good an use of the intermediate time to be
even seen by their pursuers. After the escape of Captain Bligh,
which was well known to us, no length of passage or hazard of
navigation seemed above human accomplishment. However to prevent
future attempts of a like nature, the governor directed that
boats only of stated dimensions should be built. Indeed an order
of this sort had been issued on the escape of the first party,
and it was now repeated with additional restrictions.

[*It was my fate to fall in again with part of
this little band of adventurers. In March 1792, when I arrived in
the Gorgon, at the Cape of Good Hope, six of these people,
including the woman and one child, were put on board of us to be
carried to England. Four had died, and one had jumped overboard
at Batavia. The particulars of their voyage were briefly as
follows. They coasted the shore of New Holland, putting
occasionally into different harbours which they found in going
along. One of these harbours, in the latitude of 30 degrees
south, they described to be of superior excellence and capacity.
Here they hauled their bark ashore, paid her seams with tallow,
and repaired her. But it was with difficulty they could keep off
the attacks of the Indians. These people continued to harras them
so much that they quitted the mainland and retreated to a small
island in the harbour, where they completed their design. Between
the latitude of 26 degrees and 27 degrees, they were driven by a
current 30 leagues from the shore, among some islands, where they
found plenty of large turtles. Soon after they closed again with
the continent, when the boat got entangled in the surf and was
driven on shore, and they had all well nigh perished. They passed
rough the straits of Endeavour and, beyond the gulf of
Carpentaria, found a large freshwater river, which they entered,
and filled from it their empty casks.

Until they reached the gulf of Carpentaria, they saw no
natives or canoes differing from those about Port Jackson. But
now they were chased by large canoes, jitted with sails and
fighting stages, and capable of holding thirty men each. They
escaped by dint of rowing to windward. On the 5th of June 1791
they reached Timor, and pretended that they had belonged to a
ship which, on her passage from Port Jackson to India, had
foundered; and that they only had escaped. The Dutch received
them with kindness and treated them with hospitality. But their
behaviour giving rise to suspicion, they were watched; and one of
them at last, in a moment of intoxication, betrayed the secret.
They were immediately secured and committed to prison. Soon after
Captain Edwards of the Pandora, who had been wrecked near
Endeavour straits, arrived at Timor, and they were delivered up
to him, by which means they became passengers in the Gorgon.

I confess that I never looked at these people without pity and
astonishment. They had miscarried in a heroic struggle for
liberty after having combated every hardship and conquered every
difficulty.

The woman, and one of the men, had gone out to Port Jackson in
the ship which had transported me thither. They had both of them
been always distinguished for good behaviour. And I could not but
reflect with admiration at the strange combination of
circumstances which had again brought us together, to baffle
human foresight and confound human speculation.]

April, 1791. Notwithstanding the supplies which had recently
arrived from Batavia, short allowance was again proclaimed on the
2nd of April, on which day we were reduced to the following
ration:

Three pounds of rice, three pounds of flour and three pounds
of pork per week.

It was singularly unfortunate that these retrenchments should
always happen when the gardens were most destitute of vegetables.
A long drought had nearly exhausted them. The hardships which we
in consequence suffered were great, but not comparable to what
had been formerly experienced. Besides, now we made sure of ships
arriving soon to dispel our distress. Whereas, heretofore, from
having never heard from England, the hearts of men sunk and many
had begun to doubt whether it had not been resolved to try how
long misery might be endured with resignation.

Notwithstanding the incompetency of so diminished a pittance,
the daily task of the soldier and convict continued unaltered. I
never contemplated the labours of these men without finding
abundant cause of reflection on the miseries which our nature can
overcome. Let me for a moment quit the cold track of narrative.
Let me not fritter away by servile adaptation those reflections
and the feelings they gave birth to. Let me transcribe them fresh
as they arose, ardent and generous, though hopeless and romantic.
I every day see wretches pale with disease and wasted with
famine, struggle against the horror’s of their situation. How
striking is the effect of subordination; how dreadful is the fear
of punishment! The allotted task is still performed, even on the
present reduced subsistence. The blacksmith sweats at the sultry
forge, the sawyer labours pent-up in his pit and the husbandman
turns up the sterile glebe. Shall I again hear arguments
multiplied to violate truth, and insult humanity! Shall I again
be told that the sufferings of the wretched Africans are
indispensable for the culture of our sugar colonies; that white
men are incapable of sustaining the heat of the climate! I have
been in the West Indies. I have lived there. I know that it is a
rare instance for the mercury in the thermometer to mount there
above 90 degrees; and here I scarcely pass a week in summer
without seeing it rise to 100 degrees; sometimes to 105; nay,
beyond even that burning altitude.

But toil cannot be long supported without adequate
refreshment. The first step in every community which wishes to
preserve honesty should be to set the people above want. The
throes of hunger will ever prove too powerful for integrity to
withstand. Hence arose a repetition of petty delinquencies, which
no vigilance could detect, and no justice reach. Gardens were
plundered, provisions pilfered, and the Indian corn stolen from
the fields where it grew for public use. Various were the
measures adopted to check this depredatory spirit. Criminal
courts, either from the tediousness of their process, or from the
frequent escape of culprits from their decision, were seldomer
convened than formerly. The governor ordered convict offenders
either to be chained together or to wear singly a large iron
collar with two spikes projecting from it, which effectually
hindered the party from concealing it under his shirt; and thus
shackled, they were compelled to perform their quota of work.

May, 1791. Had their marauding career terminated here,
humanity would have been anxious to plead in their defence; but
the natives continued to complain of being robbed of spears and
fishing tackle. A convict was at length taken in the fact of
stealing fishing-tackle from Daringa, the wife of Colbee. The
governor ordered that he should be severely flogged in the
presence of as many natives as could be assembled, to whom the
cause of punishment should be explained. Many of them, of both
sexes, accordingly attended. Arabanoo’s aversion to a similar
sight has been noticed; and if the behaviour of those now
collected be found to correspond with it, it is, I think, fair to
conclude that these people are not of a sanguinary and implacable
temper. Quick indeed of resentment, but not unforgiving of
injury. There was not one of them that did not testify strong
abhorrence of the punishment and equal sympathy with the
sufferer. The women were particularly affected; Daringa shed
tears, and Barangaroo, kindling into anger, snatched a stick and
menaced the executioner. The conduct of these women, on this
occasion, was exactly descriptive of their characters. The former
was ever meek and feminine, the latter fierce and
unsubmissive.

On the first of May, many allotments of ground were parcelled
out by the governor to convicts whose periods of transportation
were expired, and who voluntarily offered to become settlers in
the country. The terms on which they settled, and their progress
in agriculture, will be hereafter set forth.

CHAPTER XIV.

Travelling Diaries in New South Wales.

From among my numerous travelling journals into the interior
parts of the country, I select the following to present to the
reader, as equally important in their object, and more amusing in
their detail, than any other.

In April 1791 an expedition was undertaken, in order to
ascertain whether or not the Hawkesbury and the Nepean, were the
same river. With this view, we proposed to fall in a little above
Richmond Hill*, and trace down to it; and if the weather should
prove fine to cross at the ford, and go a short distance
westward, then to repass the river and trace it upward until we
should either arrive at some spot which we knew to be the Nepean,
or should determine by its course that the Hawkesbury was a
different stream.

[*Look at the map for the situation of this place
(Unfortunately, there is no map accompanying this etext.
Ed.)]

Our party was strong and numerous. It consisted of twenty-one
persons, viz. the governor, Mr. Collins and his servant, Mr.
White, Mr. Dawes, the author, three gamekeepers, two sergeants,
eight privates, and our friends Colbee and Boladeree. These two
last were volunteers on the occasion, on being assured that we
should not stay out many days and that we should carry plenty of
provisions. Baneelon wished to go, but his wife would not permit
it. Colbee on the other hand, would listen to no objections. He
only stipulated (with great care and consideration) that, during
his absence, his wife and child should remain at Sydney under our
protection, and be supplied with provisions.

But before we set out, let me describe our equipment, and try
to convey to those who have rolled along on turnpike roads only,
an account of those preparations which are required in traversing
the wilderness. Every man (the governor excepted) carried his own
knapsack, which contained provisions for ten days. If to this be
added a gun, a blanket, and a canteen, the weight will fall
nothing short of forty pounds. Slung to the knapsack are the
cooking kettle and the hatchet, with which the wood to kindle the
nightly fire and build the nightly hut is to be cut down. Garbed
to drag through morasses, tear through thickets, ford rivers and
scale rocks, our autumnal heroes, who annually seek the hills in
pursuit of grouse and black game, afford but an imperfect
representation of the picture.

Thus encumbered, the march begins at sunrise, and with
occasional halts continues until about an hour and a half before
sunset. It is necessary to stop thus early to prepare for passing
the night, for toil here ends not with the march. Instead of the
cheering blaze, the welcoming landlord, and the long bill of
fare, the traveller has now to collect his fuel, to erect his
wigwam, to fetch water, and to broil his morsel of salt pork. Let
him then lie down, and if it be summer, try whether the effect of
fatigue is sufficiently powerful to overcome the bites and stings
of the myriads of sandflies and mosquitoes which buzz around
him.

Monday, April 11, 1791. At twenty minutes before seven
o’clock, we started from the governor’s house at Rose Hill and
steered* for a short time nearly in a north-east direction, after
which we turned to north 34 degrees west, and steadily pursued
that course until a quarter before four o’clock, when we halted
for the night. The country for the first two miles, while we
walked to the northeast, was good, full of grass and without rock
or underwood. Afterwards it grew very bad, being full of steep,
barren rocks, over which we were compelled to clamber for seven
miles, when it changed to a plain country apparently very
sterile, and with very little grass in it, which rendered walking
easy. Our fatigue in the morning had, however, been so oppressive
that one of the party knocked up. And had not a soldier, as
strong as a pack-horse, undertaken to carry his knapsack in
addition to his own, we must either have sent him back, or have
stopped at a place for the night which did not afford water. Our
two natives carried each his pack, but its weight was
inconsiderable, most of their provisions being in the knapsacks
of the soldiers and gamekeepers. We expected to have derived from
them much information relating to the country, as no one doubted
that they were acquainted with every part of it between the sea
coast and the river Hawkesbury. We hoped also to have witnessed
their manner of living in the woods, and the resources they rely
upon in their journeys. Nothing, however, of this sort had yet
occurred, except their examining some trees to see if they could
discover on the bark any marks of the claws of squirrels and
opossums, which they said would show whether any of those animals
were hidden among the leaves and branches. They walked stoutly,
appeared but little fatigued, and maintained their spirits
admirably, laughing to excess when any of us either tripped or
stumbled, misfortunes which much seldomer fell to their lot than
to ours.

[*Our method, on these expeditions, was to steer
by compass, noting the different courses as we proceeded; and
counting the number of paces, of which two thousand two hundred,
on good ground, were allowed to be a mile. At night when we
halted, all these courses were separately cast up, and worked by
a traverse table, in the manner a ship’s reckoning is kept, so
that by observing this precaution, we always knew exactly where
we were, and how far from home; an unspeakable advantage in a new
country, where one hill, and one tree, is so like another that
fatal wanderings would ensue without it. This arduous task was
always allotted to Mr. Dawes who, from habit and superior skill,
performed it almost without a stop, or an interruption of
conversation: to any other man, on such terms, it would have been
impracticable.]

At a very short distance from Rose Hill, we found that they
were in a country unknown to them, so that the farther they went
the more dependent on us they became, being absolute strangers
inland. To convey to their understandings the intention of our
journey was impossible. For, perhaps, no words could unfold to an
Indian the motives of curiosity which induce men to encounter
labour, fatigue and pain, when they might remain in repose at
home, with a sufficiency of food. We asked Colbee the name of the
people who live inland, and he called them Boorooberongal; and
said they were bad, whence we conjectured that they sometimes war
with those on the sea coast, by whom they were undoubtedly driven
up the country from the fishing ground, that it might not be
overstocked; the weaker here, as in every other country, giving
way to the stronger.

We asked how they lived. He said, on birds and animals, having
no fish. Their laziness appeared strongly when we halted, for
they refused to draw water or to cleave wood to make a fire; but
as soon as it was kindled (having first well stuffed themselves),
they lay down before it and fell asleep. About an hour after
sunset, as we were chatting by the fire side and preparing to go
to rest, we heard voices at a little distance in the wood. Our
natives caught the sound instantaneously and, bidding us be
silent, listened attentively to the quarter whence it had
proceeded. In a few minutes we heard the voices plainly; and,
wishing exceedingly to open a communication with this tribe, we
begged our natives to call to them, and bid them to come to us,
to assure them of good treatment, and that they should have
something given them to eat. Colbee no longer hesitated, but gave
them the signal of invitation, in a loud hollow cry. After some
whooping and shouting on both sides, a man with a lighted stick
in his hand advanced near enough to converse with us. The first
words which we could distinctly understand were, ‘I am Colbee, of
the tribe of Cadigal.’ The stranger replied, ‘I am Bereewan, of
the tribe of Boorooberongal.’ Boladeree informed him also of his
name and that we were white men and friends, who would give him
something to eat. Still he seemed irresolute. Colbee therefore
advanced to him, took him by the hand and led him to us. By the
light of the moon, we were introduced to this gentleman, all our
names being repeated in form by our two masters of the
ceremonies, who said that we were Englishmen and ‘budyeeree’
(good), that we came from the sea coast, and that we were
travelling inland.

Bereewan seemed to be a man about thirty years old, differing
in no respect from his countrymen with whom we were acquainted.
He came to us unarmed, having left his spears at a little
distance. After a long conversation with his countrymen, and
having received some provisions, he departed highly
satisfied.

Tuesday, April 12th, 1791. Started this morning at half past
six o’clock, and in two hours reached the river. The whole of the
country we passed was poor, and the soil within a mile of the
river changed to a coarse deep sand, which I have invariably
found to compose its banks in every part without exception that I
ever saw. The stream at this place is about 350 feet wide; the
water pure and excellent to the taste. The banks are about twenty
feet high and covered with trees, many of which had been
evidently bent by the force of the current in the direction which
it runs, and some of them contained rubbish and drift wood in
their branches at least forty-five feet above the level of the
stream. We saw many ducks, and killed one, which Colbee swam for.
No new production among the shrubs growing here was found. we
were acquainted with them all. Our natives had evidently never
seen this river before. They stared at it with surprise, and
talked to each other. Their total ignorance of the country, and
of the direction in which they had walked, appeared when they
were asked which way Rose Hill lay; for they pointed almost
oppositely to it. Of our compass they had taken early notice, and
had talked much to each other about it. They comprehended its
use, and called it ‘naamoro,’ literally, “to see the way”; a more
significant or expressive term cannot be found.

Supposing ourselves to be higher on the stream than Richmond
Hill, we agreed to trace downward, or to the right hand. In
tracing, we kept as close to the bank of the river as the
innumerable impediments to walking which grow upon it would
allow. We found the country low and swampy; came to a native
fireplace, at which were some small fish-bones; soon after we saw
a native, but he ran away immediately. Having walked nearly three
miles we were stopped by a creek which we could neither ford, or
fall a tree across. We were therefore obliged to coast it, in
hope to find a passing place or to reach its head. At four
o’clock we halted for the night on the bank of the creek. Our
natives continued to hold out stoutly. The hindrances to walking
by the river side which plagued and entangled us so much, seemed
not to be heeded by them, and they wound through them with case;
but to us they were intolerably tiresome. Our perplexities
afforded them an inexhaustible fund of merriment and derision:
Did the sufferer, stung at once with nettles and ridicule, and
shaken nigh to death by his fall, use any angry expression to
them, they retorted in a moment, by calling him by every
opprobrious name* which their language affords.

Boladeree destroyed a native hut today very wantonly before we
could prevent him. On being asked why he did so, he answered that
the inhabitants inland were bad; though no longer since than last
night, when Bereewan had departed, they were loud in their
praise. But now they had reverted to their first opinion; so
fickle and transient are their motives of love and hatred.

[*Their general favourite term of reproach is
‘goninpatta’, which signifies ‘an eater of human excrement’. Our
language would admit a very concise and familiar translation.
They have, besides this, innumerable others which they often
salute their enemies with.]

Wednesday, April 13th, 1791. We did not set out this morning
until past seven o’clock, when we continued to trace the creek.
The country which we passed through yesterday was good and
desirable to what was now presented to us. It was in general high
and universally rocky. ‘Toiling our uncouth way’, we mounted a
hill, and surveyed the contiguous country. To the northward and
eastward, the ground was still higher than that we were upon; but
in a south-west direction we saw about four miles. The view
consisted of nothing but trees growing on precipices; not an acre
of it could be cultivated. Saw a tree on fire here, and several
other vestiges of the natives. To comprehend the reasons which
induce an Indian to perform many of the offices of life is
difficult; to pronounce that which could lead him to wander
amidst these dreary wilds baffles penetration. About two o’clock
we reached the head of the creek, passed it and scrambled with
infinite toil and difficulty to the top of a neighbouring
mountain, whence we saw the adjacent country in almost every
direction, for many miles. I record with regret that this
extended view presented not a single gleam of change which could
encourage hope or stimulate industry, to attempt its culture. We
had, however, the satisfaction to discover plainly the object of
our pursuit, Richmond Hill, distant about eight miles, in a
contrary direction from what we had been proceeding upon. It was
readily known to those who had been up the Hawkesbury in the
boats, by a remarkable cleft or notch which distinguishes it. It
was now determined that we should go back to the head of the
creek and pass the night there; and in the morning cut across the
country to that part of the river which we had first hit upon
yesterday, and thence to trace upward, or to the left. But before
I descend, I must not forget to relate that to this pile of
desolation on which, like the fallen angel on the top of
Niphates, we stood contemplating our nether Eden, His Excellency
was pleased to give the name of Tench’s Prospect Mount.

Our fatigue to-day had been excessive; but our two sable
companions seemed rather enlivened than exhausted by it. We had
no sooner halted and given them something to eat than they began
to play ten thousand tricks and gambols. They imitated the
leaping of the kangaroo; sang, danced, poised the spear and met
in mock encounter. But their principal source of merriment was
again derived from our misfortunes, in tumbling amidst nettles,
and sliding down precipices, which they mimicked with inimitable
drollery. They had become, however, very urgent in their
inquiries about the time of our return, nd we pacified them as
well as we could by saying it would be soon, but avoided naming
how many days.

Their method of testifying dislike to any place is singular:
they point to the spot they are upon, and all around it, crying
‘weeree, weeree’ (bad) and immediately after mention the name of
any other place to which they are attached (Rose Hill or Sydney
for instance), adding to it ‘budyeree, budyeree’ (good). Nor was
their preference in the present case the result of caprice, for
they assigned very substantial reasons for such predilection: “At
Rose Hill,” said they, “are potatoes, cabbages, pumpkins,
turnips, fish and wine; here are nothing but rocks and water.”
These comparisons constantly ended with the question of “Where’s
Rose Hill? Where?” on which they would throw up their hands and
utter a sound to denote distance, which it is impossible to
convey an idea of upon paper.

Thursday, April 14th, 1791. We started early and reached the
river in about two hours and a half. The intermediate country,
except for the last half mile, was a continued bed of stones,
which were in some places so thick and close together that they
looked like a pavement formed by art. When we got off the stones,
we came upon the coarse river sand beforementioned.

Here we began to trace upward. We had not proceeded far when
we saw several canoes on the river. Our natives made us
immediately lie down among the reeds, while they gave their
countrymen the signal of approach. After much calling, finding
that they did not come, we continued our progress until it was
again interrupted by a creek, over which we threw a tree and
passed upon it. While this was doing, a native, from his canoe,
entered into conversation with us, and immediately after paddled
to us with a frankness and confidence which surprised every one.
He was a man of middle age, with an open cheerful countenance,
marked with the small pox, and distinguished by a nose of
uncommon magnitude and dignity. He seemed to be neither
astonished or terrified at our appearance and number. Two stone
hatchets, and two spears he took from his canoe, and presented to
the governor, who in return for his courteous generosity, gave
him two of our hatchets and some bread, which was new to him, for
he knew not its use, but kept looking at it, until Colbee shewed
him what to do, when he eat it without hesitation. We pursued our
course, and to accommodate us, our new acquaintance pointed out a
path and walked at the head of us. A canoe, also with a man and a
boy in it, kept gently paddling up abreast of us. We halted for
the night at our usual hour, on the bank of the river.
Immediately that we had stopped, our friend (who had already told
us his name) Gombeeree, introduced the man and the boy from the
canoe to us. The former was named Yellomundee, the latter
Deeimba. The ease with which these people behaved among strangers
was as conspicuous, as unexpected. They seated themselves at our
fire, partook of our biscuit and pork, drank from our canteens,
and heard our guns going off around them without betraying any
symptom of fear, distrust or surprise. On the opposite bank of
the river they had left their wives and several children, with
whom they frequently discoursed; and we observed that these last
manifested neither suspicion or uneasiness of our designs towards
their friends.

Having refreshed ourselves, we found leisure to enter into
conversation with them. It could not be expected that they should
differ materially from the tribes with whom we were acquainted.
The same manners and pursuits, the same amusements, the same
levity and fickleness, undoubtedly characterised them. What we
were able to learn from them was that they depend but little on
fish, as the river yields only mullets, and that their principal
support is derived from small animals which they kill, and some
roots (a species of wild yam chiefly) which they dig out of the
earth. If we rightly understood them, each man possesses two
wives. Whence can arise this superabundance of females? Neither
of the men had suffered the extraction of a front tooth. We were
eager to know whether or not this custom obtained among them. But
neither Colbee nor Boladeree would put the question for us; and
on the contrary, showed every desire to wave the subject. The
uneasiness which they testified, whenever we renewed it, rather
served to confirm a suspicion which we had long entertained, that
this is a mark of subjection imposed by the tribe of Cameragal,
(who are certainly the most powerful community in the country) on
the weaker tribes around them. Whether the women cut off a joint
of one of the little fingers, like those on the sea coast, we had
no opportunity of observing. These are petty remarks. But one
variety struck us more forcibly. Although our natives and the
strangers conversed on a par and understood each other perfectly,
yet they spoke different dialects of the same language; many of
the most common and necessary words used in life bearing no
similitude, and others being slightly different.

That these diversities arise from want of intercourse with the
people on the coast can hardly be imagined, as the distance
inland is but thirty-eight miles; and from Rose Hill not more
than twenty, where the dialect of the sea coast is spoken. It
deserves notice that all the different terms seemed to be
familiar to both parties, though each in speaking preferred its
own*.

[*How easily people, unused to speak the same
language, mistake each other, everyone knows. We had lived almost
three years at Port Jackson (for more than half of which period
natives had resided with us) before we knew that the word
‘beeal’, signified ‘no’, and not ‘good’, in which latter sense we
had always used it without suspecting that we were wrong; and
even without being corrected by those with whom we talked daily.
The cause of our error was this. The epithet ‘weeree’, signifying
‘bad’, we knew; and as the use of this word and its opposite
afford the most simple form of denoting consent or disapprobation
to uninstructed Indians, in order to find out their word for
‘good’, when Arabanoo was first brought among us, we used
jokingly to say that any thing, which he liked was ‘weeree’, in
order to provoke him to tell us that it was good. When we said
‘weeree’, he answered ‘beeal’, which we translated and adopted
for ‘good’; whereas he meant no more than simply to deny our
inference, and say ‘no’–it is not bad. After this, it cannot be
thought extraordinary that the little vocabulary inserted in Mr.
Cook’s account of this part of the world should appear
defective– even were we not to take in the great probability of
the dialects at Endeavour River and Van Diemen’s land differing
from that spoken at Port Jackson. And it remains to be proved
that the animal called here ‘patagaram’ is not there called
‘kangaroo’.]

Stretched out at ease before our fire, all sides continued to
chat and entertain each other. Gombeeree shewed us the mark of a
wound which he had received in his side from a spear. It was
large, appeared to have passed to a considerable depth, and must
certainly have been attended with imminent danger. By whom it had
been inflicted, and on what occasion, he explained to Colbee; and
afterwards (as we understood) he entered into a detail of the
wars, and, as effects lead to causes, probably of the gallantries
of the district, for the word which signifies a woman was often
repeated. Colbee, in return for his communication, informed him
who we were; of our numbers at Sydney and Rose Hill, of the
stores we possessed and, above all, of the good things which were
to be found among us, enumerating potatoes, cabbages, turnips,
pumpkins, and many other names which were perfectly
unintelligible to the person who heard them, but which he
nevertheless listened to with profound attention.

Perhaps the relation given by Gombeeree, of the cure of his
wound, now gave rise to the following superstitious ceremony.
While they were talking, Colbee turned suddenly round and asked
for some water. I gave him a cupful, which he presented with
great seriousness to Yellomundee, as I supposed to drink. This
last indeed took the cup and filled his mouth with water, but
instead of swallowing it, threw his head into Colbee’s bosom,
spit the water upon him and, immediately after, began to suck
strongly at his breast, just below the nipple. I concluded that
the man was sick; and called to the governor to observe the
strange place which he had chosen to exonerate his stomach. The
silent attention observed by the other natives, however, soon
convinced us that something more than merely the accommodation of
Yellomundee, was intended. The ceremony was again performed; and,
after having sucked the part for a considerable time, the
operator pretended to receive something in his mouth, which was
drawn from the breast. With this he retired a few paces, put his
hand to his lips and threw into the river a stone, which I had
observed him to pick up slily, and secrete. When he returned to
the fireside, Colbee assured us that he had received signal
benefit from the operation; and that this second Machaon had
extracted from his breast two splinters of a spear by which he
had been formerly wounded. We examined the part, but it was
smooth and whole, so that to the force of imagination alone must
be imputed both the wound and its cure. Colbee himself seemed
nevertheless firmly persuaded that he had received relief, and
assured us that Yellomundee was a ‘caradyee’, or ‘Doctor of
renown’. And Boladeree added that not only he but all the rest of
his tribe were ‘caradyee’ of especial note and skill.

The Doctors remained with us all night, sleeping before the
fire in the fullness of good faith and security. The little boy
slept in his father’s arms, and we observed that whenever the man
was inclined to shift his position, he first put over the child,
with great care, and then turned round to him.

Friday, April 15th, 1791. The return of light aroused us to
the repetition of toil. Our friends breakfasted with us, and
previous to starting Gombeeree gave a specimen of their manner of
climbing trees in quest of animals. He asked for a hatchet and
one of ours was offered to him, but he preferred one of their own
making. With this tool he cut a small notch in the tree he
intended to climb, about two feet and a half above the ground, in
which he fixed the great toe of his left foot, and sprung
upwards, at the same time embracing the tree with his left arm.
In an instant he had cut a second notch for his right toe on the
other side of the tree into which he sprung, and thus,
alternately cutting on each side, he mounted to the height of
twenty feet in nearly as short a space as if he had ascended by a
ladder, although the bark of the tree was quite smooth and
slippery and the trunk four feet in diameter and perfectly
strait. To us it was a matter of astonishment, but to him it was
sport; for while employed thus he kept talking to those below and
laughing immoderately. He descended with as much ease and agility
as he had raised himself. Even our natives allowed that he was a
capital performer, against whom they dared not to enter the
lists; for as they subsist chiefly by fishing they are less
expert at climbing on the coast than those who daily practice
it.

Soon after they bade us adieu, in unabated friendship and good
humour. Colbee and Boladeree parted from them with a slight nod
of the head, the usual salutation of the country; and we shook
them by the hand, which they returned lustily.

At the time we started the tide was flowing up the river, a
decisive proof that we were below Richmond Hill. We had continued
our march but a short time when we were again stopped by a creek,
which baffled all our endeavours to cross it, and seemed to
predict that the object of our attainment, though but a very few
miles distant, would take us yet a considerable time to reach,
which threw a damp on our hopes. We traced the creek until four
o’clock, when we halted for the night. The country, on both
sides, we thought in general unpromising; but it is certainly
very superior to that which we had seen on the former creek. In
many places it might be cultivated, provided the inundations of
the stream can be repelled.

In passing along we shot some ducks, which Boladeree refused
to swim for when requested, and told us in a surly tone that they
swam for what was killed, and had the trouble of fetching it
ashore, only for the white men to eat it. This reproof was, I
fear, too justly founded; for of the few ducks we had been so
fortunate as to procure, little had fallen to their share except
the offals, and now and then a half-picked bone. True, indeed,
all the crows and hawks which had been shot were given to them;
but they plainly told us that the taste of ducks was more
agreeable to their palates, and begged they might hereafter
partake of them. We observed that they were thoroughly sick of
the journey, and wished heartily for its conclusion: the
exclamation of “Where’s Rose Hill, where?” was incessantly
repeated, with many inquiries about when we should return to
it.

Saturday April 16th, 1791. It was this morning resolved to
abandon our pursuit and to return home; at hearing of which our
natives expressed great joy. We started early; and reached Rose
Hill about three o’clock, just as a boat was about to be sent
down to Sydney. Colbee and Boladeree would not wait for us until
the following morning, but insisted on going down immediately to
communicate to Baneelon and the rest of their countrymen the
novelties they had seen.

The country we passed through was, for the most part, very
indifferent, according to our universal opinion. It is in general
badly watered. For eight miles and a half on one line we did not
find a drop of water.

RICHMOND HILL

Having eluded our last search, Mr. Dawes and myself,
accompanied by a sergeant of marines and a private soldier,
determined on another attempt, to ascertain whether it lay on the
Hawkesbury or Nepean. We set out on this expedition on the 24th
of May, 1791; and having reached the opposite side of the mouth
of the creek which had in our last journey prevented our
progress, we proceeded from there up to Richmond Hill by the
river side; mounted it; slept at its foot; and on the following
day penetrated some miles westward or inland of it until we were
stopped by a mountainous country, which our scarcity of
provisions, joined to the terror of a river at our back, whose
sudden rising is almost beyond computation, hindered us from
exploring. To the elevation which bounded our research we gave
the name of Knight Hill, in honour of the trusty sergeant who had
been the faithful indefatigable companion of all our travels.

This excursion completely settled the long contested point
about the Hawkesbury and Nepean. We found them to be one river.
Without knowing it, Mr. Dawes and myself had passed Richmond Hill
almost a year before (in August 1790), and from there walked on
the bank of the river to the spot where my discovery of the
Nepean happened, in June 1789. Our ignorance arose from having
never before seen the hill, and from the erroneous position
assigned to it by those who had been in the boats up the
river.

Except the behaviour of some natives whom we met on the river,
which it would be ingratitude to pass in silence, nothing
particularly worthy of notice occurred on this expedition.

When we had reached within two miles of Richmond Hill, we
heard a native call. We directly answered him and conversed
across the river for some time. At length he launched his canoe
and crossed to us without distrust or hesitation. We had never
seen him before; but he appeared to know our friend Gombeeree, of
whom he often spoke. He said his name was Deedora. He presented
us with two spears and a throwing-stick, and in return we gave
him some bread and beef. Finding that our route lay up the river,
he offered to accompany us and, getting into his canoe, paddled
up abreast of us. When we arrived at Richmond Hill it became
necessary to cross the river; but the question was, how this
should be effected? Deedora immediately offered his canoe. We
accepted of it and, Mr. Dawes and the soldier putting their
clothes into it, pushed it before them, and by alternately wading
and swimming, soon passed. On the opposite shore sat several
natives, to whom Deedora called, by which precaution the arrival
of the strangers produced no alarm. On the contrary, they
received them with every mark of benevolence. Deedora, in the
meanwhile, sat talking with the sergeant and me. Soon after,
another native, named Morunga, brought back the canoe, and now
came our turn to cross. The sergeant (from a foolish trick which
had been played upon him when he was a boy) was excessively
timorous of water, and could not swim. Morunga offered to conduct
him, and they got into the canoe together; but, his fears
returning, he jumped out and refused to proceed. I endeavoured to
animate him, and Morunga ridiculed his apprehensions, making
signs of the ease and dispatch with which he would land him; but
he resolved to paddle over by himself, which, by dint of good
management and keeping his position very steadily, he performed.
It was now become necessary to bring over the canoe a third time
for my accommodation, which was instantly done, and I entered it
with Deedora. But, like the sergeant, I was so disordered at
seeing the water within a hair’s breadth of the level of our
skiff (which brought to my remembrance a former disaster I had
experienced on this river) that I jumped out, about knee-deep,
and determined to swim over, which I effected. My clothes, half
our knapsacks, and three of our guns yet remained to be
transported across. These I recommended to the care of our grim
ferrymen, who instantaneously loaded their boat with them and
delivered them on the opposite bank, without damage or
diminution.

During this long trial of their patience and courtesy–in the
latter part of which I was entirely in their power, from their
having possession of our arms–they had manifested no ungenerous
sign of taking advantage of the helplessness and dependance of
our situation; no rude curiosity to pry into the packages with
which they were entrusted; or no sordid desire to possess the
contents of them; although among them were articles exposed to
view, of which it afterwards appeared they knew the use, and
longed for the benefit. Let the banks of those rivers, “known to
song”, let him whose travels have lain among polished nations
produce me a brighter example of disinterested urbanity than was
shown by these denizens of a barbarous clime to a set of
destitute wanderers on the side of the Hawkesbury.

On the top of Richmond Hill we shot a hawk, which fell in a
tree. Deedora offered to climb for it and we lent him a hatchet,
the effect of which delighted him so much that he begged for it.
As it was required to chop wood for our evening fire, it could
not be conveniently spared; but we promised him that if he would
visit us on the following morning, it should be given to him. Not
a murmur was heard; no suspicion of our insincerity; no mention
of benefits conferred; no reproach of ingratitude. His good
humour and cheerfulness were not clouded for a moment. Punctual
to our appointment, he came to us at daylight next morning and
the hatchet was given to him, the only token of gratitude and
respect in our power to bestow. Neither of these men had lost his
front tooth.

THE LAST EXPEDITION

Which I ever undertook in the country I am describing was in
July 1791, when Mr. Dawes and myself went in search of a large
river which was said to exist a few miles to the southward of
Rose Hill. We went to the place described, and found this second
Nile or Ganges to be nothing but a saltwater creek communicating
with Botany Bay, on whose banks we passed a miserable night from
want of a drop of water to quench our thirst, for as we believed
that we were going to a river we thought it needless to march
with full canteens.

On this expedition we carried with us a thermometer which (in
unison with our feelings) shewed so extraordinary a degree of
cold for the latitude of the place that I think myself bound to
transcribe it.

Monday, 18th July 1791. The sun arose in unclouded splendor
and presented to our sight a novel and picturesque view. The
contiguous country as white as if covered with snow, contrasted
with the foliage of trees flourishing in the verdure of tropical
luxuriancy*. Even the exhalation which steamed from the lake
beneath contributed to heighten the beauty of the scene. Wind
SSW. Thermorneter at sunrise 25degrees. The following night was
still colder. At sunset the thermometer stood at 45 degrees; at a
quarter before four in the morning, it was at 26degrees; at a
quarter before six at 24 degrees; at a quarter before seven, at
23 degrees; at seven o’clock, 22.7 degrees; at sunrise, 23
degrees, after which it continued gradually to mount, and between
one and two o’clock, stood at 59.6 degrees in the shade. Wind
SSW. The horizon perfectly clear all day, not the smallest speck
to be seen. Nothing but demonstration could have convinced me
that so severe a degree of cold ever existed in this low
latitude. Drops of water on a tin pot, not altogether out of the
influence of the fire, were frozen into solid ice in less than
twelve minutes. Part of a leg of kangaroo which we had roasted
for supper was frozen quite hard, all the juices of it being
converted into ice. On those ponds which were near the surface of
the earth, the covering of ice was very thick; but on those which
were lower down it was found to be less so, in proportion to
their depression; and wherever the water was twelve feet below
the surface (which happened to be the case close to us) it was
uncongealed. It remains to be observed that the cold of both
these nights, at Rose Hill and Sydney, was judged to be greater
than had ever before been felt.

[*All the trees of New South Wales, may I
apprehend, be termed evergreen. For after such weather as this
journal records, I did not observe either that the leaves had
dropped off, or that they had assumed that sickly autumnal tint,
which marks English trees in corresponding circumstances.]

CHAPTER XV.

Transactions of the Colony to the end of November, 1791.

The extreme dryness of the preceding summer has been noticed.
It had operated so far in the beginning of June that we dreaded a
want of water for common consumption most of the little
reservoirs in the neighbourhood of Sydney being dried up. The
small stream near the town was so nearly exhausted (being only
the drain of a morass) that a ship could not have watered at it,
and the ‘Supply’ was preparing to sink casks in a swamp when rain
fell and banished our apprehensions.

June, 1791. On the second instant, the name of the settlement,
at the head of the harbour (Rose Hill) was changed, by order of
the governor, to that of Parramatta, the native name of it. As
Rose Hill has, however, occurred so often in this book, I beg
leave, to avoid confusion, still to continue the appellation in
all future mention of it.

Our travelling friend Boladeree, who makes so conspicuous a
figure in the last chapter, about this time committed an offence
which we were obliged to notice. He threw a spear at a convict in
the woods, and wounded him. The truth was, some mischievous
person belonging to us had wantonly destroyed his canoe, and he
revenged the injury on the first of our people whom he met
unarmed. He now seemed to think the matter adjusted; and probably
such is the custom they observe in their own society in similar
cases. Hearing, however, that an order was issued to seize him,
or in case that could not be effected, to shoot him, he prudently
dropped all connection with us and was for a long time not
seen.

But if they sometimes injured us, to compensate they were
often of signal benefit to those who needed their assistance: two
instances of which had recently occurred. A boat was overset in
the harbour Baneelon and some other natives, who saw the accident
happen, immediately plunged in, and saved all the people. When
they had brought them on shore, they undressed them, kindled a
fire and dried their clothes, gave them fish to eat and conducted
them to Sydney.

The other instance was of a soldier lost in the woods, when he
met a party of natives. He at first knew not whether to flee from
them, or to implore their assistance. Seeing among them one whom
he knew, he determined to communicate his distress to him and to
rely on his generosity. The Indian told him that he had wandered
a long way from home, but that he would conduct him thither, on
the single condition of his delivering up a gun which he held in
his hand, promising to carry it for him and to restore it to him
at parting. The soldier felt little inclination to surrender his
arms, by which he would be put entirely in their power. But
seeing no alternative, he at last consented; on which the whole
party laid down their spears and faithfully escorted him to the
nearest part of the settlement, where the gun was given up, and
they took their leave without asking for any remuneration, or
even seeming to expect it.

The distressful state of the colony for provisions continued
gradually to augment until the 9th of July, when the Mary Anne
transport arrived from England. This ship had sailed from the
Downs so lately as the 25th of February, having been only four
months and twelve days on her passage. She brought out convicts,
by contract, at a specific sum for each person. But to
demonstrate the effect of humanity and justice, of 144 female
convicts embarked on board only three had died, and the rest were
landed in perfect health, all loud in praise of their conductor.
The master’s name was Munro; and his ship, after fulfilling her
engagement with government, was bound on the southern fishery.
The reader must not conclude that I sacrifice to dull detail,
when he finds such benevolent conduct minutely narrated. The
advocates of humanity are not yet become too numerous: but those
who practise its divine precepts, however humble and unnoticed be
their station, ought not to sink into obscurity, unrecorded and
unpraised, with the vile monsters who deride misery and fatten on
calamity.

July, 1791. If, however, the good people of this ship
delighted us with their benevolence, here gratification ended. I
was of a party who had rowed in a boat six miles out to sea,
beyond the harbour’s mouth, to meet them; and what was our
disappointment, on getting aboard, to find that they had not
brought a letter (a few official ones for the governor excepted)
to any person in the colony! Nor had they a single newspaper or
magazine in their possession; nor could they conceive that any
person wished to hear news; being as ignorant of everything which
had passed in Europe for the last two years as ourselves, at the
distance of half the circle. “No war–the fleet’s dismantled,”
was the whole that we could learn. When I asked whether a new
parliament had been called, they stared at me in stupid wonder,
not seeming to comprehend that such a body either suffered
renovation or needed it.

“Have the French settled their government?”

“As to that matter I can’t say; I never heard; but, damn them,
they were ready enough to join the Spaniards against us.”

“Are Russia and Turkey at peace?”

“That you see does not lie in my way; I have heard talk about
it, but don’t remember what passed.”

“For heaven’s sake, why did you not bring out a bundle of
newspapers? You might have procured a file at any coffee house,
which would have amused you, and instructed us?”

“Why, really, I never thought about the matter until we were
off the Cape of Good Hope, when we spoke a man of war, who asked
us the same question, and then I wished I had.”

To have prosecuted inquiry farther would have only served to
increase disappointment and chagrin. We therefore quitted the
ship, wondering and lamenting that so large a portion of plain
undisguised honesty should be so totally unconnected with a
common share of intelligence, and acquaintance with the feelings
and habits of other men.

By the governor’s letters we learned that a large fleet of
transports, with convicts on board, and His Majesty’s ship
Gorgon, (Captain Parker) might soon be expected to arrive. The
following intelligence which they contained, was also made
public.

That such convicts as had served their period of
transportation, were not to be compelled to remain in the colony;
but that no temptation should be offered to induce them to quit
it, as there existed but too much reason to believe, that they
would return to former practices; that those who might choose to
settle in the country should have portions of land, subject to
stipulated restrictions, and a portion of provisions assigned to
them on signifying their inclinations; and that it was expected,
that those convicts who might be possessed of means to transport
themselves from the country, would leave it free of all
incumbrances of a public nature.

The rest of the fleet continued to drop in, in this and the
two succeeding months. The state of the convicts whom they
brought out, though infinitely preferable to what the fleet of
last year had landed, was not unexceptionable. Three of the ships
had naval agents on board to control them. Consequently, if
complaint had existed there, it would have been immediately
redressed. Exclusive of these, the ‘Salamander’, (Captain
Nichols) who, of 155 men lost only five; and the ‘William and
Anne’ (Captain Buncker) who of 187 men lost only seven, I find
most worthy of honourable mention. In the list of convicts
brought out was Barrington, of famous memory.

Two of these ships also added to our geographic knowledge of
the country. The ‘Atlantic’, under the direction of Lieutenant
Bowen, a naval agent, ran into a harbour between Van Diemen’s
land, and Port Jackson, in latitude 35 degrees 12 minutes south,
longitude 151 degrees east, to which, in honour of Sir John
Jervis, Knight of the Bath, Mr. Bowen gave the name of Port
Jervis. Here was found good anchoring ground with a fine depth of
water, within a harbour about a mile and a quarter broad at its
entrance, which afterwards opens into a basin five miles wide and
of considerable length. They found no fresh water, but as their
want of this article was not urgent, they did not make sufficient
researches to pronounce that none existed there.* They saw,
during the short time they stayed, two kangaroos and many traces
of inhabitants. The country at a little distance to the southward
of the harbour is hilly, but that contiguous to the sea is flat.
On comparing what they had found here afterwards, with the native
produce of Port Jackson, they saw no reason to think that they
differed in any respect.

[*Just before I left the country, word was
brought by a ship which had put into Port Jervis, that a large
fresh water brook was found there.]

The second discovery was made by Captain Wetherhead, of the
‘Matilda’ transport, which was obligingly described to me, as
follows, by that gentleman, on my putting to him the underwritten
questions.

“When did you make your discovery?”

“On the 27th of July, 1791.”

“In what latitude and longitude does it lie?”

“In 42 degrees 15 minutes south by observation, and in 148 1/2
east by reckoning”

“Is it on the mainland or is it an island?”

“It is an island, distant from the mainland about eight
miles.”

“Did you anchor?”

“Yes; and found good anchorage in a bay open about six
points.”

“Did you see any other harbour or bay in the island?”

“None.”

“Does the channel between the island and the main appear to
afford good shelter for shipping?”

“Yes, like Spithead.”

“Did you find any water on the island?”

“Yes, in plenty.”

“Of what size does the island appear to be?”

“It is narrow and long; I cannot say how long. Its breadth is
inconsiderable.”

“Did you make any observations on the soil?”

“It is sandy; and many places are full of craggy rocks.”

“Do you judge the productions which you saw on the island to
be similar to those around Port Jackson?”

“I do not think they differ in any respect.”

“Did you see any animals?”

“I saw three kangaroos.”

“Did you see any natives, or any marks of them?”

“I saw no natives, but I saw a fire, and several huts like
those at Port Jackson, in one of which lay a spear.”

“What name did you give to your discovery?”

“I called it, in honour of my ship, Matilda Bay.”

November, 1791. A very extraordinary instance of folly
stimulated to desperation occurred in the beginning of this month
among the convicts at Rose Hill. Twenty men and a pregnant woman,
part of those who had arrived in the last fleet, suddenly
disappeared with their clothes, working tools, bedding, and their
provisions, for the ensuing week, which had been just issued to
them. The first intelligence heard of them, was from some convict
settlers, who said they had seen them pass, and had enquired
whither they were bound. To which they had received for answer,
“to China.” The extravagance and infatuation of such an attempt
was explained to them by the settlers; but neither derision, nor
demonstration could avert them from pursuing their purpose. It
was observed by those who brought in the account that they had
general idea enough of the point of the compass in which China
lies from Port Jackson, to keep in a northerly direction.

An officer with a detachment of troops, was sent in pursuit of
them; but after a harassing march returned without success. In
the course of a week the greatest part of them were either
brought back by different parties who had fallen in with them, or
were driven in by famine. Upon being questioned about the cause
of their elopement, those whom hunger had forced back, did not
hesitate to confess that they had been so grossly deceived as to
believe that China might easily be reached, being not more than
100 miles distant, and separated only by a river. The others,
however, ashamed of the merriment excited at their expense, said
that their reason for running away was on account of being
overworked and harshly treated, and that they preferred a
solitary and precarious existence in the woods to a return to the
misery they were compelled to undergo. One or two of the party
had certainly perished by the hands of the natives, who had also
wounded several others.

I trust that no man would feel more reluctant than myself to
cast an illiberal national reflection, particularly on a people
whom I regard in an aggregate sense as brethren and
fellow-citizens; and among whom, I have the honour to number many
of the most cordial and endearing intimacies which a life passed
on service could generate. But it is certain that all these
people were Irish.

CHAPTER XVI

Transactions of the colony until 18th of December 1791, when
I quitted it, with an Account of its state at that time.

The Gorgon had arrived on the 21st of September, and the hour
of departure to England, for the marine battalion, drew nigh. If
I be allowed to speak from my own feelings on the occasion, I
will not say that we contemplated its approach with mingled
sensations: we hailed it with rapture and exultation.

The ‘Supply’, ever the harbinger of welcome and glad tidings,
proclaimed by her own departure, that ours was at hand. On the
26th of November she sailed for England. It was impossible to
view our separation with insensibility: the little ship which had
so often agitated our hopes and fears, which from long
acquaintance we had learned to regard as part of ourselves, whose
doors of hospitality had been ever thrown open to relieve our
accumulated wants, and chase our solitary gloom!

In consequence of the offers made to the non-commissioned
officers and privates of the marine battalion to remain in the
country as settlers or to enter into the New South Wales corps,
three corporals, one drummer and 59 privates accepted of grants
of land, to settle at Norfolk Island and Rose Hill. Of these men,
several were undoubtedly possessed of sufficient skill and
industry, by the assistance of the pay which was due to them from
the date of their embarkation, in the beginning of the year 1787,
to the day on which they were discharged, to set out with
reasonable hopes of being able to procure a maintenance. But the
only apparent reason to which the behaviour of a majority of them
could be ascribed was from infatuated affection to female
convicts, whose characters and habits of life, I am sorry to say,
promise from a connection neither honour nor tranquillity.

The narrative part of this work will, I conceive, be best
brought to a termination by a description of the existing state
of the colony, as taken by myself a few days previous to my
embarkation in the Gorgon, to sail for England.

December 2nd, 1791. Went up to Rose Hill. Public buildings
here have not greatly multiplied since my last survey. The
storehouse and barrack have been long completed; also apartments
for the chaplain of the regiment, and for the judge-advocate, in
which last, criminal courts, when necessary, are held; but these
are petty erections. In a colony which contains only a few
hundred hovels built of twigs and mud, we feel consequential
enough already to talk of a treasury, an admiralty, a public
library and many other similar edifices, which are to form part
of a magnificent square. The great road from near the landing
place to the governor’s house is finished, and a very noble one
it is, being of great breadth, and a mile long, in a strait line.
In many places it is carried over gullies of considerable depth,
which have been filled up with trunks of trees covered with
earth. All the sawyers, carpenters and blacksmiths will soon be
concentred under the direction of a very adequate person of the
governor’s household. This plan is already so far advanced as to
contain nine covered sawpits, which change of weather cannot
disturb the operations of, an excellent workshed for the
carpenters and a large new shop for the blacksmiths. It certainly
promises to be of great public benefit. A new hospital has been
talked of for the last two years, but is not yet begun. Two long
sheds, built in the form of a tent and thatched, are however
finished, and capable of holding 200 patients. The sick list of
today contains 382 names. Rose Hill is less healthy than it used
to be. The prevailing disorder is a dysentery, which often
terminates fatally. There was lately one very violent putrid
fever which, by timely removal of the patient, was prevented from
spreading. Twenty-five men and two children died here in the
month of November.

When at the hospital I saw and conversed with some of the
‘Chinese travellers’; four of them lay here, wounded by the
natives. I asked these men if they really supposed it possible to
reach China. They answered that they were certainly made to
believe (they knew not how) that at a considerable distance to
northward existed a large river, which separated this country
from the back part of China; and that when it should be crossed
(which was practicable) they would find themselves among a
copper-coloured people, who would receive and treat them kindly.
They added, that on the third day of their elopement, one of the
party died of fatigue; another they saw butchered by the natives
who, finding them unarmed, attacked them and put them to flight.
This happened near Broken Bay, which harbour stopped their
progress to the northward and forced them to turn to the right
hand, by which means they soon after found themselves on the sea
shore, where they wandered about in a destitute condition,
picking up shellfish to allay hunger. Deeming the farther
prosecution of their scheme impracticable, several of them agreed
to return to Rose Hill, which with difficulty they accomplished,
arriving almost famished. On their road back they met six fresh
adventurers sallying forth to join them, to whom they related
what had passed and persuaded them to relinquish their intention.
There are at this time not less than thirty-eight convict men
missing, who live in the woods by day, and at night enter the
different farms and plunder for subsistence.

December 3rd, 1791. Began my survey of the cultivated land
belonging to the public. The harvest has commenced. They are
reaping both wheat and barley. The field between the barrack and
the governor’s house contains wheat and maize, both very bad, but
the former particularly so. In passing through the main street I
was pleased to observe the gardens of the convicts look better
than I had expected to find them. The vegetables in general are
but mean, but the stalks of maize, with which they are
interspersed, appear green and flourishing. The semicircular
hill, which sweeps from the overseer of the cattle’s house to the
governor’s house, is planted with maize, which, I am told, is the
best here. It certainly looks in most parts very good– stout
thick stalks with large spreading leaves–but I am surprised to
find it so backward. It is at least a month later than that in
the gardens at Sydney. Behind the maize is a field of wheat,
which looks tolerably for this part of the world. It will, I
reckon, yield about twelve bushels an acre. Continued my walk and
looked at a little patch of wheat in the governor’s garden, which
was sown in drills, the ground being first mixed with a clay
which its discoverers pretended was marle. Whatever it be, this
experiment bespeaks not much in favour of its enriching
qualities; for the corn looks miserably, and is far exceeded by
some neighbouring spots on which no such advantage has been
bestowed. Went round the crescent at the bottom of the garden,
which certainly in beauty of form and situation is unrivalled in
New South Wales. Here are eight thousand vines planted, all of
which in another season are expected to bear grapes. Besides the
vines are several small fruit trees, which were brought in the
Gorgon from the Cape, and look lively; on one of them are half a
dozen apples as big as nutmegs. Although the soil of the crescent
be poor, its aspect and circular figure, so advantageous for
receiving and retaining the rays of the sun, eminently fit it for
a vineyard. Passed the rivulet and looked at the corn land on its
northern side. On the western side of Clarke’s* house the wheat
and maize are bad, but on the eastern side is a field supposed to
be the best in the colony. I thought it of good height, and the
ears well filled, but it is far from thick.

[*Dod, who is mentioned in my former journal of
this place, had died some months ago. And Mr. Clarke, who was put
in his room, is one of the superintendants, sent out by
government, on a salary of forty pounds per annum. He was bred to
husbandry, under his father at Lewes in Sussex; and is, I
conceive, competent to his office of principal conductor of the
agriculture of Rose Hill.]

While I was looking at it, Clarke came up. I told him I
thought he would reap fifteen or sixteen bushels an acre; he
seemed to think seventeen or eighteen. I have now inspected all
the European corn. A man of so little experience of these matters
as myself cannot speak with much confidence. Perhaps the produce
may average ten bushels an acre, or twelve at the outside.
Allowance should, however, be made in estimating the quality of
the soil, for the space occupied by roots of trees, for
inadequate culture, and in some measure to want of rain. Less has
fallen than was wished, but this spring was by no means so dry as
the last. I find that the wheat grown at Rose Hill last year
weighed fifty-seven pounds and a half per bushel. My next visit
was to the cattle, which consists of two stallions, six mares,
and two colts; besides sixteen cows, two cow-calves, and one
bull-calf, which were brought out by the Gorgon. Two bulls which
were on board died on the passage, so that on the young gentleman
just mentioned depends the stocking of the colony.

The period of the inhabitants of New South Wales being
supplied with animal food of their own raising is too remote for
a prudent man to calculate. The cattle look in good condition,
and I was surprised to hear that neither corn nor fodder is given
to them. The enclosures in which they are confined furnish hardly
a blade of grass at present. There are people appointed to tend
them who have been used to this way of life, and who seem to
execute it very well.

Sunday, December 4th, 1791. Divine service is now performed
here every Sunday, either by the chaplain of the settlement or
the chaplain of the regiment. I went to church today. Several
hundred convicts were present, the majority of whom I thought
looked the most miserable beings in the shape of humanity I ever
beheld. They appeared to be worn down with fatigue.

December, 5th. Made excursions this day to view the public
settlements. Reached the first, which is about a mile in a
north-west direction from the governor’s house. This settlement
contains, by admeasurement, 134 acres, a part of which is planted
with maize, very backward, but in general tolerably good, and
beautifully green. Thirteen large huts, built in the form of a
tent, are erected for the convicts who work here; but I could not
learn the number of these last, being unable to find a
superintendant or any person who could give me information. Ponds
of water here sufficient to supply a thousand persons.

Walked on to the second settlement, about two miles farther,
through an uncleared country. Here met Daveney, the person who
planned and now superintends all the operations carried on here.
He told me that he estimated the quantity of cleared ground here
at 300 acres. He certainly over-rates it one-third, by the
judgment of every other person. Six weeks ago this was a forest.
it has been cleared, and the wood nearly burnt off the ground by
500 men, in the before-mentioned period, or rather in thirty
days, for only that number have the convicts worked. He said it
was too late to plant maize, and therefore he should sow turnips,
which would help to meliorate and prepare it for next year. On
examining the soil, I thought it in general light, though in some
places loamy to the touch. He means to try the Rose Hill ‘marle’
upon it, with which he thinks it will incorporate well. I hope it
will succeed better than the experiment in the governor’s garden.
I wished to know whether he had chosen this ground simply from
the conveniency of its situation to Rose Hill, and its easy form
for tillage, and having water, or from any marks which he had
thought indicated good soil. He said that what I had mentioned no
doubt weighed with him, and that he judged the soil to be good,
from the limbs of many of the trees growing on it being covered
with moss.

“Are,” said I, “your 500 men still complete?”

“No; this day’s muster gave only 460. The rest are either sick
and removed to the hospital, or are run away in the woods.”

“How much is each labourer’s daily task?”

“Seven rods. It was eight, but on their representing to the
governor that it was beyond their strength to execute, he took
off one.”

Thirteen large huts, similar to those beforementioned, contain
all the people here. To every hut are appointed two men, as
hutkeepers, whose only employment is to watch the huts in working
hours to prevent them from being robbed. This has somewhat
checked depredations, and those endless complaints of the
convicts that they could not work because they had nothing to
eat, their allowance being stolen. The working hours at this
season (summer) are from five o’clock in the morning until ten;
rest from ten to two; return to work at two; and continue till
sunset. This surely cannot be called very severe toil; but on the
other hand must be remembered the inadequacy of a ration of salt
provisions, with few vegetables, and unassisted by any liquor but
water.

Here finished my remarks on every thing of a public nature at
Rose Hill. But having sufficient time, I determined to visit all
the private settlers to inspect their labours, and learn from
them their schemes, their hopes and expectations.

In pursuance of my resolution, I crossed the country to
Prospect Hill, at the bottom of which live the following thirteen
convicts, who have accepted allotments of ground, and are become
settlers.

[*In partnership.[Butler and Lisk]

[**Not out of his time; but allowed to work here
at his leisure hours, as he has declared his intention of
settling.]

[***In a similar predicament with Herbert.]

The terms on which these allotments have been granted are:
that the estates shall be fully ceded for ever to all who shall
continue to cultivate for five years, or more; that they shall be
free of all taxes for the first ten years; but after that period
to pay an annual quit-rent of one shilling. The penalty on
non-performance of any of these articles is forfeiture of the
estate, and all the labour which may have been bestowed upon it.
These people are to receive provisions, (the same quantity as the
working convicts), clothes, and medicinal assistance, for
eighteen months from the day on which they settled.

To clear and cultivate the land, a hatchet, a tomahawk, two
hoes, a spade and a shovel, are given to each person, whether man
or woman; and a certain number of cross-cut saws among the whole.
To stock their farms, two sow pigs were promised to each settler,
but they almost all say they have not yet received any, of which
they complain loudly. They all received grain to sow and plant
for the first year. They settled here in July and August last.
Most of them were obliged to build their own houses; and wretched
hovels three-fourths of them are. Should any of them fall sick,
the rest are bound to assist the sick person two days in a month,
provided the sickness lasts not longer than two months; four days
labour in each year, from every person, being all that he is
entitled to. To give protection to this settlement, a corporal
and two soldiers are encamped in the centre of the farms, as the
natives once attacked the settlers and burnt one of their houses.
These guards are, however, inevitably at such a distance from
some of the farms as to be unable to afford them any assistance
in case of another attack.

With all these people I conversed and inspected their labours.
Some I found tranquil and determined to persevere, provided
encouragement should be given. Others were in a state of
despondency, and predicted that they should starve unless the
period of eighteen months during which they are to be clothed and
fed, should be extended to three years. Their cultivation is yet
in its infancy, and therefore opinions should not be hastily
formed of what it may arrive at, with moderate skill and
industry. They have at present little in the ground besides
maize, and that looks not very promising. Some small patches of
wheat which I saw are miserable indeed. The greatest part of the
land I think but indifferent, being light and stoney. Of the
thirteen farms ten are unprovided with water; and at some of them
they are obliged to fetch this necessary article from the
distance of a mile and a half. All the settlers complain sadly of
being frequently robbed by the runaway convicts, who plunder them
incessantly.

December 6th. Visited the settlements to the northward of the
rivulet. The nearest of them lies about a mile due north of Mr.
Clarke’s house. Here are only the undernamed five settlers.

[*These three cultivate in partnership.(Brown,
Bradbury, Mold.)]

These settlers are placed on the same footing in every respect
which concerns their tenure and the assistance to be granted to
them as those at Prospect Hill. Near them is water. Parr and
Burne are men of great industry. They have both good houses which
they hired people to build for them. Parr told me that he had
expended thirteen guineas on his land, which nevertheless he does
not seem pleased with. Of the three poor fellows who work in
partnership, one (Bradbury) is run away. This man had been
allowed to settle, on a belief, from his own assurance, that his
term of transportation was expired; but it was afterwards
discovered that he had been cast for life. Hereupon he grew
desperate, and declared he would rather perish at once than
remain as a convict. He disappeared a week ago and has never
since been heard of. Were I compelled to settle in New South
Wales, I should fix my residence here, both from the appearance
of the soil, and its proximity to Rose Hill. A corporal and two
privates are encamped here to guard this settlement, as at
Prospect.

Proceeded to the settlement called the Ponds, a name which I
suppose it derived from several ponds of water which are near the
farms. Here reside the fourteen following settlers.

[*They (Richards and Summers) cultivate in
partnership.]

[**A convict who means to settle here; and is
permitted to work in his leisure hours.]

[***They (Elliot and Marshall) cultivate in
partnership.]

The Prospect Hill terms of settlement extend to this place. My
private remarks were not many. Some spots which I passed over I
thought desirable, particularly Ramsay’s farm; and he deserves a
good spot, for he is a civil, sober, industrious man. Besides his
corn land, he has a well laid out little garden, in which I found
him and his wife busily at work. He praised her industry to me;
and said he did not doubt of succeeding. It is not often seen
that sailors make good farmers; but this man I think bids fair to
contradict the observation. The gentleman of no trade (his own
words to me) will, I apprehend, at the conclusion of the time
when victualling from the store is to cease, have the honour of
returning to drag a timber or brick cart for his maintenance. The
little maize he has planted is done in so slovenly a style as to
promise a very poor crop. He who looks forward to eat grapes from
his own vine, and to sit under the shade of his own fig-tree,
must labour in every country. He must exert more than ordinary
activity. The attorney’s clerk I also thought out of his
province. I dare believe that he finds cultivating his own land
not half so easy a task as he formerly found that of stringing
together volumes of tautology to encumber, or convey away, that
of his neighbour. Hubbard’s farm, and Kelly’s also, deserve
regard, from being better managed than most of the others. The
people here complain sadly of a destructive grub which destroys
the young plants of maize. Many of the settlers have been obliged
to plant twice, nay thrice, on the same land, from the
depredations of these reptiles. There is the same guard here as
at the other settlements.

Nothing now remains for inspection but the farms on the river
side.

December 7th. Went to Scheffer’s farm. I found him at home,
conversed with him, and walked with him over all his cultivated
ground. He had 140 acres granted to him, fourteen of which are in
cultivation, twelve in maize, one in wheat and one in vines and
tobacco. He has besides twenty-three acres on which the trees are
cut down but not burnt off the land. He resigned his appointment
and began his farm last May, and had at first five convicts to
assist him; he has now four. All his maize, except three acres,
is mean. This he thinks may be attributed to three causes: a
middling soil; too dry a spring; and from the ground not being
sufficiently pulverized before the seed was put into it. The
wheat is thin and poor: he does not reckon its produce at more
than eight or nine bushels. His vines, 900 in number, are
flourishing, and will, he supposes, bear fruit next year. His
tobacco plants are not very luxuriant: to these two last articles
he means principally to direct his exertions. He says (and truly)
that they will always be saleable and profitable. On one of the
boundaries of his land is plenty of water. A very good brick
house is nearly completed for his use, by the governor; and in
the meantime he lives in a very decent one, which was built for
him on his settling here. He is to be supplied with provisions
from the public store, and with medical assistance for eighteen
months, reckoning from last May. At the expiration of this period
he is bound to support himself and the four convicts are to be
withdrawn. But if he shall then, or at any future period, declare
himself able to maintain a moderate number of these people for
their labour, they will be assigned to him.

Mr. Scheffer is a man of industry and respectable character.
He came out to this country as superintendant of convicts, at a
salary of forty pounds per annum, and brought with him a daughter
of twelve years old. He is by birth a Hessian, and served in
America, in a corps of Yaghers, with the rank of lieutenant. He
never was professionally, in any part of life, a farmer, but he
told me, that his father owned a small estate on the banks of the
Rhine, on which he resided, and that he had always been fond of
looking at and assisting in his labours, particularly in the
vineyard. In walking along, he more than once shook his head and
made some mortifying observations on the soil of his present
domain, compared with the banks of his native stream. He assured
me that (exclusive of the sacrifice of his salary) he has
expended more than forty pounds in advancing his ground to the
state in which I saw it. Of the probability of success in his
undertaking, he spoke with moderation and good sense. Sometimes
he said he had almost despaired, and had often balanced about
relinquishing it; but had as often been checked by recollecting
that hardly any difficulty can arise which vigour and
perseverance will not overcome. I asked him what was the tenure
on which he held his estate. He offered to show the written
document, saying that it was exactly the same as Ruse’s. I
therefore declined to trouble him, and took my leave with wishes
for his success and prosperity.

Near Mr. Scheffer’s farm is a small patch of land cleared by
Lieutenant Townson of the New South Wales corps, about two acres
of which are in maize and wheat, both looking very bad.

Proceeded to the farm of Mr. Arndell, one of the assistant
surgeons. This gentleman has six acres in cultivation as follows:
rather more than four in maize, one in wheat, and the remainder
in oats and barley. The wheat looks tolerably good, rather thin
but of a good height, and the ears well filled. His farming
servant guesses the produce will be twelve bushels,* and I do not
think he over-rates it. The maize he guesses at thirty bushels,
which from appearances it may yield, but not more. The oats and
barley are not contemptible. This ground has been turned up but
once The aspect of it is nearly south, on a declivity of the
river, or arm of the sea, on which Rose Hill stands. It was
cleared of wood about nine months ago, and sown this year for the
first time.

[*I have received a letter from Port Jackson,
dated in April 1792, which states that the crop of wheat turned
out fifteen bushels, and the maize rather more than forty
bushels.]

December 8th. Went this morning to the farm of Christopher
Magee, a convict settler, nearly opposite to that of Mr.
Scheffen. The situation of this farm is very eligible, provided
the river in floods does not inundate it, which I think doubtful.
This man was bred to husbandry, and lived eight years in America;
he has no less than eight acres in cultivation, five and a half
in maize, one in wheat, and one and a half in tobacco. From the
wheat he does not expect more than ten bushels, but he is
extravagant enough to rate the produce of maize at 100 bushels
(perhaps he may get fifty); on tobacco he means to go largely
hereafter. He began to clear this ground in April, but did not
settle until last July. I asked by what means he had been able to
accomplish so much? He answered, “By industry, and by hiring all
the convicts I could get to work in their leisure hours, besides
some little assistance which the governor has occasionally thrown
in.” His greatest impediment is want of water, being obliged to
fetch all he uses more than half a mile. He sunk a well, and
found water, but it was brackish and not fit to drink. If this
man shall continue in habits of industry and sobriety, I think
him sure of succeeding.

Reached Ruse’s farm,* and begged to look at his grant, the
material part of which runs thus: “A lot of thirty acres, to be
called Experiment Farm; the said lot to be holden, free of all
taxes, quit-rents, &c. for ten years, provided that the
occupier, his heirs or assigns, shall reside within the same, and
proceed to the improvement thereof; reserving, however, for the
use of the crown, all timber now growing, or which hereafter
shall grow, fit for naval purposes. At the expiration of ten
years, an annual quit-rent of one shilling shall be paid by the
occupier in acknowledgment.”

[*See the state of this farm in my former Rose
Hill journal of November 1790, thirteen months before.]

Ruse now lives in a comfortable brick house, built for him by
the governor. He has eleven acres and a half in cultivation, and
several more which have been cleared by convicts in their leisure
hours, on condition of receiving the first year’s crop. He means
to cultivate little besides maize; wheat is so much less
productive. Of the culture of vineyards and tobacco he is
ignorant; and, with great good sense, he declared that he would
not quit the path he knew, for an uncertainty. His livestock
consists of four breeding sows and thirty fowls. He has been
taken from the store (that is, has supplied himself with
provisions) for some months past; and his wife is to be taken off
at Christmas, at which time, if he deems himself able to maintain
a convict labourer, one is to be given to him.

Crossed the river in a boat to Robert Webb’s farm. This man
was one of the seamen of the ‘Sirius’, and has taken, in
conjunction with his brother (also a seaman of the same ship) a
grant of sixty acres, on the same terms as Ruse, save that the
annual quit-rent is to commence at the expiration of five years,
instead of ten. The brother is gone to England to receive the
wages due to them both for their services, which money is to be
expended by him in whatever he judges will be most conducive to
the success of their plan. Webb expects to do well; talks as a
man should talk who has just set out on a doubtful enterprise
which he is bound to pursue. He is sanguine in hope, and looks
only at the bright side of the prospect. He has received great
encouragement and assistance from the governor. He has five acres
cleared and planted with maize, which looks thriving, and
promises to yield a decent crop. His house and a small one
adjoining for pigs and poultry were built for him by the
governor, who also gave him two sows and seven fowls, to which he
adds a little stock of his own acquiring.

Near Webb is placed William Read, another seaman of the
‘Sirius’, on the same terms, and to whom equal encouragement has
been granted.

My survey of Rose Hill is now closed. I have inspected every
piece of ground in cultivation here, both public and private, and
have written from actual examination only.

But before I bade adieu to Rose Hill, in all probability for
the last time of my life, it struck me that there yet remained
one object of consideration not to be slighted: Barrington had
been in the settlement between two and three months, and I had
not seen him.

I saw him with curiosity. He is tall, approaching to six feet,
slender, and his gait and manner, bespeak liveliness and
activity. Of that elegance and fashion, with which my imagination
had decked him (I know not why), I could distinguish no trace.
Great allowance should, however, be made for depression and
unavoidable deficiency of dress. His face is thoughtful and
intelligent; to a strong cast of countenance he adds a
penetrating eye, and a prominent forehead. His whole demeanour is
humble, not servile. Both on his passage from England, and since
his arrival here, his conduct has been irreproachable. He is
appointed high-constable of the settlement of Rose Hill, a post
of some respectability, and certainly one of importance to those
who live here. His knowledge of men, particularly of that part of
them into whose morals, manners and behaviour he is ordered
especially to inspect, eminently fit him for the office.

I cannot quit him without bearing my testimony that his
talents promise to be directed in future to make reparation to
society for the offences he has heretofore committed against
it.

The number of persons of all descriptions at Rose Hill at this
period will be seen in the following return.

A return of the number of persons at Rose Hill, 3rd of
December 1791

[*The convicts who are become settlers, are
included in this number.]

Of my Sydney journal, I find no part sufficiently interesting
to be worth extraction. This place had long been considered only
as a depot for stores. It exhibited nothing but a few old
scattered huts and some sterile gardens. Cultivation of the
ground was abandoned, and all our strength transferred to Rose
Hill. Sydney, nevertheless, continued to be the place of the
governor’s residence, and consequently the headquarters of the
colony. No public building of note, except a storehouse, had been
erected since my last statement. The barracks, so long talked of,
so long promised, for the accommodation and discipline of the
troops, were not even begun when I left the country; and instead
of a new hospital, the old one was patched up and, with the
assistance of one brought ready-framed from England, served to
contain the sick.

The employment of the male convicts here, as at Rose Hill, was
the public labour. Of the women, the majority were compelled to
make shirts, trousers and other necessary parts of dress for the
men, from materials delivered to them from the stores, into which
they returned every Saturday night the produce of their labour, a
stipulated weekly task being assigned to them. In a more early
stage, government sent out all articles of clothing ready made;
but, by adopting the present judicious plan, not only a public
saving is effected, but employment of a suitable nature created
for those who would otherwise consume leisure in idle pursuits
only.

On the 26th of November 1791, the number of persons, of all
descriptions, at Sydney, was 1259, to which, if 1628 at Rose Hill
and 1172 at Norfolk Island be added, the total number of persons
in New South Wales and its dependency will be found to amount to
4059.*

[*A very considerable addition to this number has
been made since I quitted the settlement, by fresh troops and
convicts sent thither from England.]

On the 13th of December 1791, the marine battalion embarked on
board His Majesty’s ship Gorgon, and on the 18th sailed for
England.

CHAPTER XVII.

Miscellaneous Remarks on the country. On its vegetable
productions. On its climate. On its animal productions. On its
natives, etc.

The journals contained in the body of this publication,
illustrated by the map which accompanies it (unfortunately, there
is no map accompanying this etext), are, I conceive, so
descriptive of every part of the country known to us, that little
remains to be added beyond a few general observations.

The first impression made on a stranger is certainly
favourable. He sees gently swelling hills connected by vales
which possess every beauty that verdure of trees, and form,
simply considered in itself, can produce; but he looks in vain
for those murmuring rills and refreshing springs which fructify
and embellish more happy lands. Nothing like those tributary
streams which feed rivers in other countries are here seen; for
when I speak of the stream at Sydney, I mean only the drain of a
morass; and the river at Rose Hill is a creek of the harbour,
which above high water mark would not in England be called even a
brook. Whence the Hawkesbury, the only fresh water river known to
exist in the country, derives its supplies, would puzzle a
transient observer. He sees nothing but torpid unmeaning ponds
(often stagnant and always still, unless agitated by heavy rains)
which communicate with it. Doubtless the springs which arise in
Carmarthen mountains may be said to constitute its source. To
cultivate its banks within many miles of the bed of the stream
(except on some elevated detached spots) will be found
impracticable, unless some method be devised of erecting a mound,
sufficient to repel the encroachments of a torrent which
sometimes rises fifty feet above its ordinary level, inundating
the surrounding country in every direction.

The country between the Hawkesbury and Rose Hill is that which
I have hitherto spoken of. When the river is crossed, this
prospect soon gives place to a very different one. The green
vales and moderate hills disappear at the distance of about three
miles from the river side, and from Knight Hill, and Mount
Twiss,* the limits which terminate our researches, nothing but
precipices, wilds and deserts, are to be seen. Even these steeps
fail to produce streams. The difficulty of penetrating this
country, joined to the dread of a sudden rise of the Hawkesbury,
forbidding all return, has hitherto prevented our reaching
Carmarthen mountains.

[*Look at the Map. (There is no map accompanying
this etext)]

Let the reader now cast his eye on the relative situation of
Port Jackson. He will see it cut off from communication with the
northward by Broken Bay, and with the southward by Botany Bay;
and what is worse, the whole space of intervening country yet
explored, (except a narrow strip called the Kangaroo Ground) in
both directions, is so bad as to preclude cultivation.

The course of the Hawkesbury will next attract his attention.
To the southward of every part of Botany Bay we have traced this
river; but how much farther in that line it extends we know not.
Hence its channel takes a northerly direction, and finishes its
course in Broken Bay, running at the back of Port Jackson in such
a manner as to form the latter into a peninsula.

The principal question then remaining is, what is the distance
between the head of Botany Bay and the part of the Hawkesbury
nearest to it? And is the intermediate country a good one, or
does it lead to one which appearances indicate to be good? To
future adventurers who shall meet with more encouragement to
persevere and discover than I and my fellow wanderer[s] did, I
resign the answer. In the meantime the reader is desired to look
at the remarks on the map (there is no map accompanying this
etext), which were made in the beginning of August 1790, from
Pyramid Hill, which bounded our progress on the southern
expedition; when, and when only, this part of the country has
been seen.

It then follows that from Rose Hill to within such a distance
of the Hawkesbury as is protected from its inundations, is the
only tract of land we yet know of, in which cultivation can be
carried on for many years to come. To aim at forming a
computation of the distance of time, of the labour and of the
expense, which would attend forming distinct convict settlements,
beyond the bounds I have delineated; or of the difficulty which
would attend a system of communication between such
establishments and Port Jackson, is not intended here.

Until that period shall arrive, the progress of cultivation,
when it shall have once passed Prospect Hill, will probably steal
along to the southward, in preference to the northward, from the
superior nature of the country in that direction, as the remarks
inserted in the map will testify.

Such is my statement of a plan which I deem inevitably
entailed on the settlement at Port Jackson. In sketching this
outline of it let it not be objected that I suppose the reader as
well acquainted with the respective names and boundaries of the
country as long residence and unwearied journeying among them,
have made the author. To have subjoined perpetual explanations
would have been tedious and disgusting. Familiarity with the
relative positions of a country can neither be imparted, or
acquired, but by constant recurrence to geographic
delineations.

On the policy of settling, with convicts only, a country at
once so remote and extensive, I shall offer no remarks. Whenever
I have heard this question agitated, since my return to England,
the cry of, “What can we do with them! Where else can they be
sent!” has always silenced me.

Of the soil, opinions have not differed widely. A spot
eminently fruitful has never been discovered. That there are many
spots cursed with everlasting and unconquerable sterility no one
who has seen the country will deny. At the same time I am
decidedly of opinion that many large tracts of land between Rose
Hill and the Hawkesbury, even now, are of a nature sufficiently
favourable to produce moderate crops of whatever may be sown in
them. And provided a sufficient number of cattle* be imported to
afford manure for dressing the ground, no doubt can exist that
subsistence for a limited number of inhabitants may be drawn from
it. To imperfect husbandry, and dry seasons, must indubitably be
attributed part of the deficiency of former years. Hitherto all
our endeavours to derive advantage from mixing the different
soils have proved fruitless, though possibly only from want of
skill on our side.

[*In my former narrative I have particularly
noticed the sudden disappearance of the cattle, which we had
brought with us into the country. Not a trace of them has ever
since been observed. Their fate is a riddle, so difficult of
solution that I shall not attempt it. Surely had they strayed
inland, in some of our numerous excursions, marks of them must
have been found. It is equally impossible to believe that either
the convicts or natives killed and ate them, without some sign of
detection ensuing.]

The spontaneous productions of the soil will be soon
recounted. Every part of the country is a forest: of the quality
of the wood take the following instance. The ‘Supply’ wanted wood
for a mast, and more than forty of the choicest young trees were
cut down before as much wood as would make it could be procured,
the trees being either rotten at the heart or riven by the gum
which abounds in them. This gum runs not always in a longitudinal
direction in the body of the tree, but is found in it in circles,
like a scroll. There is however, a species of light wood which is
found excellent for boat building, but it is scarce and hardly
ever found of large size.

To find limestone many of our researches were directed. But
after repeated assays with fire and chemical preparations on all
the different sorts of stone to be picked up, it is still a
desideratum. Nor did my experiments with a magnet induce me to
think that any of the stones I tried contained iron. I have,
however, heard other people report very differently on this
head.

The list of esculent vegetables, and wild fruits is too
contemptible to deserve notice, if the ‘sweet tea’ whose virtues
have been already recorded, and the common orchis root be
excepted. That species of palm tree which produces the mountain
cabbage is also found in most of the freshwater swamps, within
six or seven miles of the coast. But is rarely seen farther
inland. Even the banks of the Hawkesbury are unprovided with it.
The inner part of the trunk of this tree was greedily eaten by
our hogs, and formed their principal support. The grass, as has
been remarked in former publications, does not overspread the
land in a continued sward, but arises in small detached tufts,
growing every way about three inches apart, the intermediate
space being bare; though the heads of the grass are often so
luxuriant as to hide all deficiency on the surface. The rare and
beautiful flowering shrubs, which abound in every part, deserve
the highest admiration and panegyric.

Of the vegetable productions transplanted from other climes,
maize flourishes beyond any other grain. And as it affords a
strong and nutritive article of food, its propagation will, I
think, altogether supersede that of wheat and barley.

Horticulture has been attended in some places with tolerable
success. At Rose Hill I have seen gardens which, without the
assistance of manure, have continued for a short time to produce
well grown vegetables. But at Sydney, without constantly dressing
the ground, it was in vain to expect them; and with it a supply
of common vegetables might be procured by diligence in all
seasons. Vines of every sort seem to flourish. Melons, cucumbers
and pumpkins run with unbounded luxuriancy, and I am convinced
that the grapes of New South Wales will, in a few years, equal
those of any other country. ‘That their juice will probably
hereafter furnish an indispensable article of luxury at European
tables’, has already been predicted in the vehemence of
speculation. Other fruits are yet in their infancy; but oranges,
lemons and figs, (of which last indeed I have eaten very good
ones) will, I dare believe, in a few years become plentiful.
Apples and the fruits of colder climes also promise to gratify
expectation. The banana-tree has been introduced from Norfolk
Island, where it grows spontaneously.

Nor will this surprise, if the genial influence of the climate
be considered. Placed in a latitude where the beams of the sun in
the dreariest season are sufficiently powerful for many hours of
the day to dispense warmth and nutrition, the progress of
vegetation never is at a stand. The different temperatures of
Rose Hill and Sydney in winter, though only twelve miles apart,
afford, however, curious matter of speculation. Of a well
attested instance of ice being seen at the latter place, I never
heard. At the former place its production is common, and once a
few flakes of snow fell. The difference can be accounted for only
by supposing that the woods stop the warm vapours of the sea from
reaching Rose Hill, which is at the distance of sixteen miles
inland; whereas Sydney is but four.* Again, the heats of summer
are more violent at the former place than at the latter, and the
variations incomparably quicker. The thermometer has been known
to alter at Rose Hill, in the course of nine hours, more than 50
degrees; standing a little before sunrise at 50 degrees, and
between one and two at more than 100 degrees. To convey an idea
of the climate in summer, I shall transcribe from my
meteorological journal, accounts of two particular days which
were the hottest we ever suffered under at Sydney.

[*Look at the journal which describes the
expedition in search of the river, said to exist to the southward
of Rose Hill. At the time we felt that extraordinary degree of
cold were not more than six miles south west of Rose Hill, and
about nineteen miles from the the sea coast. When I mentioned
this circumstance to colonel Gordon, at the Cape of Good Hope, he
wondered at it; and owned, that, in his excursions into the
interior parts of Africa, he had never experienced anything to
match it: he attributed its production to large beds of nitre,
which he said must exist in the neighbourhood.]

December 27th 1790. Wind NNW; it felt like the blast of a
heated oven, and in proportion as it increased the heat was found
to be more intense, the sky hazy, the sun gleaming through at
intervals.

At 9 a.m. 85 degrees At noon 104 Half past twelve 107 1/2 From
one p.m. until 20 minutes past two 108 1/2 At 20 minutes past two
109 At Sunset 89 At 11 p.m. 78 1/2

[By a large Thermometer made by Ramsden, and graduated on
Fahrenheit’s scale.]

December 28th.

At 8 a.m. 86 10 a.m. 93 11 a.m. 101 At noon 103 1/2 Half an
hour past noon 104 1/2 At one p.m. 102 At 5 p.m. 73 At sunset 69
1/2

[At a quarter past one, it stood at only 89 degrees, having,
from a sudden shift of wind, fallen 13 degrees in 15
minutes.]

My observations on this extreme heat, succeeded by so rapid a
change, were that of all animals, man seemed to bear it best. Our
dogs, pigs and fowls, lay panting in the shade, or were rushing
into the water. I remarked that a hen belonging to me, which had
sat for a fortnight, frequently quitted her eggs, and shewed
great uneasiness, but never remained from them many minutes at
one absence; taught by instinct that the wonderful power in the
animal body of generating cold in air heated beyond a certain
degree, was best calculated for the production of her young. The
gardens suffered considerably. All the plants which had not taken
deep root were withered by the power of the sun. No lasting ill
effects, however, arose to the human constitution. A temporary
sickness at the stomach, accompanied with lassitude and headache,
attacked many, but they were removed generally in twenty-four
hours by an emetic, followed by an anodyne. During the time it
lasted, we invariably found that the house was cooler than the
open air, and that in proportion as the wind was excluded, was
comfort augmented.

But even this heat was judged to be far exceeded in the latter
end of the following February, when the north-west wind again set
in, and blew with great violence for three days. At Sydney, it
fell short by one degree of what I have just recorded: but at
Rose Hill, it was allowed, by every person, to surpass all that
they had before felt, either there or in any other part of the
world. Unluckily they had no thermometer to ascertain its precise
height. It must, however, have been intense, from the effects it
produced. An immense flight of bats driven before the wind,
covered all the trees around the settlement, whence they every
moment dropped dead or in a dying state, unable longer to endure
the burning state of the atmosphere. Nor did the ‘perroquettes’,
though tropical birds, bear it better. The ground was strewn with
them in the same condition as the bats.

Were I asked the cause of this intolerable heat, I should not
hesitate to pronounce that it was occasioned by the wind blowing
over immense deserts, which, I doubt not, exist in a north-west
direction from Port Jackson, and not from fires kindled by the
natives. This remark I feel necessary, as there were methods used
by some persons in the colony, both for estimating the degree of
heat and for ascertaining the cause of its production, which I
deem equally unfair and unphilosophical. The thermometer, whence
my observations were constantly made, was hung in the open air in
a southern aspect, never reached by the rays of the sun, at the
distance of several feet above the ground.

My other remarks on the climate will be short. It is
changeable beyond any other I ever heard of; but no phenomena
sufficiently accurate to reckon upon, are found to indicate the
approach of alteration. Indeed, for the first eighteen months
that we lived in the country, changes were supposed to take place
more commonly at the quartering of the moon than at other times.
But lunar empire afterwards lost its credit. For the last two
years and a half of our residing at Port Jackson, its influence
was unperceived. Three days together seldom passed without a
necessity occurring for lighting a fire in an evening. A ‘habit
d’ete’, or a ‘habit de demi saison’, would be in the highest
degree absurd. Clouds, storms and sunshine pass in rapid
succession. Of rain, we found in general not a sufficiency, but
torrents of water sometimes fall. Thunder storms, in summer, are
common and very tremendous, but they have ceased to alarm, from
rarely causing mischief. Sometimes they happen in winter. I have
often seen large hailstones fall. Frequent strong breezes from
the westward purge the air. These are almost invariably attended
with a hard clear sky. The easterly winds, by setting in from the
sea, bring thick weather and rain, except in summer, when they
become regular sea-breezes. The ‘aurora australis’ is sometimes
seen, but is not distinguished by superior brilliancy.

To sum up: notwithstanding the inconveniences which I have
enumerated, I will venture to assert in few words, that no
climate hitherto known is more generally salubrious*, or affords
more days on which those pleasures which depend on the state of
the atmosphere can be enjoyed, than that of New South Wales. The
winter season is particularly delightful.

[*To this cause, I ascribe the great number of
births which happened, considering the age and other
circumstances, of many of the mothers. Women who certainly would
never have bred in any other climate here produced as fine
children as ever were born.]

The leading animal production is well known to be the
kangaroo. The natural history of this animal will, probably, be
written from observations made upon it in England, as several
living ones of both sexes, have been brought home. Until such an
account shall appear, probably the following desultory
observation may prove acceptable.

The genus in which the kangaroo is to be classed I leave to
better naturalists than myself to determine. How it copulates,
those who pretend to have seen disagree in their accounts: nor do
we know how long the period of gestation lasts. Prolific it
cannot be termed, bringing forth only one at a birth, which the
dam carries in her pouch wherever she goes until the young one be
enabled to provide for itself; and even then, in the moment of
alarm, she will stop to receive and protect it. We have killed
she-kangaroos whose pouches contained young ones completely
covered with fur and of more than fifteen pounds weight, which
had ceased to suck and afterwards were reared by us. In what
space of time it reaches such a growth as to be abandoned
entirely by the mother, we are ignorant. It is born blind,
totally bald, the orifice of the ear closed and only just the
centre of the mouth open, but a black score, denoting what is
hereafter to form the dimension of the mouth, is marked very
distinctly on each side of the opening. At its birth, the
kangaroo (notwithstanding it weighs when full grown 200 pounds)
is not so large as a half-grown mouse. I brought some with me to
England even less, which I took from the pouches of the old ones.
This phenomenon is so striking and so contrary to the general
laws of nature, that an opinion has been started that the animal
is brought forth not by the pudenda, but descends from the belly
into the pouch by one of the teats, which are there deposited. On
this difficulty as I can throw no light, I shall hazard no
conjecture. It may, however, be necessary to observe that the
teats are several inches long and capable of great dilatation.
And here I beg leave to correct an error which crept into my
former publication wherein I asserted that, “the teats of the
kangaroo never exceed two in number.” They sometimes, though
rarely, amount to four. There is great reason to believe that
they are slow of growth and live many years. This animal has a
clavicle, or collar-bone, similar to that of the human body. The
general colour of the kangaroo is very like that of the ass, but
varieties exist. Its shape and figure are well known by the
plates which have been given of it. The elegance of the ear is
particularly deserving of admiration. This far exceeds the ear of
the hare in quickness of sense and is so flexible as to admit of
being turned by the animal nearly quite round the head, doubtless
for the purpose of informing the creature of the approach of its
enemies, as it is of a timid nature, and poorly furnished with
means of defence; though when compelled to resist, it tears
furiously with its forepaws, and strikes forward very hard with
its hind legs. Notwithstanding its unfavourable conformation for
such a purpose, its swims strongly; but never takes to the water
unless so hard pressed by its pursuers as to be left without all
other refuge. The noise they make is a faint bleat, querulous,
but not easy to describe. They are sociable animals and unite in
droves, sometimes to the number of fifty or sixty together; when
they are seen playful and feeding on grass, which alone forms
their food. At such time they move gently about like all other
quadrupeds, on all fours; but at the slightest noise they spring
up on their hind legs and sit erect, listening to what it may
proceed from, and if it increases they bound off on those legs
only, the fore ones at the same time being carried close to the
breast like the paws of a monkey; and the tail stretched out,
acts as a rudder on a ship. In drinking, the kangaroo laps. It is
remarkable that they are never found in a fat state, being
invariably lean. Of the flesh we always eat with avidity, but in
Europe it would not be reckoned a delicacy. A rank flavour forms
the principal objection to it. The tail is accounted the most
delicious part, when stewed.

Hitherto I have spoken only of the large, or grey kangaroo, to
which the natives give the name of ‘patagaran’.* But there are
(besides the kangaroo-rat) two other sorts. One of them we called
the red kangaroo, from the colour of its fur, which is like that
of a hare, and sometimes is mingled with a large portion of
black: the natives call it ‘bagaray’. It rarely attains to more
than forty pounds weight. The third sort is very rare, and in the
formation of its head resembles the opossum. The kangaroo-rat is
a small animal, never reaching, at its utmost growth, more than
fourteen or fifteen pounds, and its usual size is not above seven
or eight pounds. It joins to the head and bristles of a rat the
leading distinctions of a kangaroo, by running when pursued on
its hind legs only, and the female having a pouch. Unlike the
kangaroo, who appears to have no fixed place of residence, this
little animal constructs for itself a nest of grass, on the
ground, of a circular figure, about ten inches in diameter, with
a hole on one side for the creature to enter at; the inside being
lined with a finer sort of grass, very soft and downy. But its
manner of carrying the materials with which it builds the nest is
the greatest curiosity: by entwining its tail (which, like that
of all the kangaroo tribe, is long, flexible and muscular) around
whatever it wants to remove, and thus dragging along the load
behind it. This animal is good to eat; but whether it be more
prolific at a birth than the kangaroo, I know not.

[*kangaroo was a name unknown to them for any
animal, until we introduced it. When I showed Colbee the cows
brought out in the Gorgon, he asked me if they were
kangaroos.]

The Indians sometimes kill the kangaroo; but their greatest
destroyer is the wild dog,* who feeds on them. Immediately on
hearing or seeing this formidable enemy, the kangaroo flies to
the thickest cover, in which, if he can involve himself, he
generally escapes. In running to the cover, they always, if
possible, keep in paths of their own forming, to avoid the high
grass and stumps of trees which might be sticking up among it to
wound them and impede their course.

[*I once found in the woods the greatest part of
a kangaroo just killed by the dogs, which afforded to three of us
a most welcome repast. Marks of its turns and struggles on the
ground were very visible. This happened in the evening, and the
dogs probably had seen us approach and had run away. At daylight
next morning they saluted us with most dreadful howling for the
loss of their prey.]

Our methods of killing them were but two; either we shot them,
or hunted them with greyhounds. We were never able to ensnare
them. Those sportsmen who relied on the gun seldom met with
success, unless they slept near covers, into which the kangaroos
were wont to retire at night, and watched with great caution and
vigilance when the game, in the morning, sallied forth to feed.
They were, however, sometimes stolen in upon in the day-time and
that fascination of the eye, which has been by some authors so
much insisted upon, so far acts on the kangaroo that if he fixes
his eye upon any one, and no other object move at the same time,
he will often continue motionless, in stupid gaze, while the
sportsman advances with measured step, towards him, until within
reach of his gun. The greyhounds for a long time were incapable
of taking them; but with a brace of dogs, if not near cover a
kangaroo almost always falls, since the greyhounds have acquired
by practice the proper method of fastening upon them.
Nevertheless the dogs are often miserably torn by them. The rough
wiry greyhound suffers least in the conflict, and is most prized
by the hunters.

Other quadrupeds, besides the wild dog, consist only of the
flying squirrel, of three kinds of opossums and some minute
animals, usually marked by the distinction which so peculiarly
characterizes the opossum tribe. The rats, soon after our
landing, became not only numerous but formidable, from the
destruction they occasioned in the stores. Latterly they had
almost disappeared, though to account for their absence were not
easy. The first time Colbee saw a monkey, he called ‘wurra’ (a
rat); but on examining its paws he exclaimed with astonishment
and affright, ‘mulla’ (a man).

At the head of the birds the cassowary or emu, stands
conspicuous. The print of it which has already been given to the
public is so accurate for the most part, that it would be
malignant criticism in a work of this kind to point out a few
trifling defects.

Here again naturalists must look forward to that information
which longer and more intimate knowledge of the feathered tribe
than I can supply, shall appear. I have nevertheless had the good
fortune to see what was never seen but once, in the country I am
describing, by Europeans–a hatch, or flock, of young cassowaries
with the old bird. I counted ten, but others said there were
twelve. We came suddenly upon them, and they ran up a hill
exactly like a flock of turkeys, but so fast that we could not
get a shot at them. The largest cassowary ever killed in the
settlement, weighed ninety-four pounds. Three young ones, which
had been by accident separated from the dam, were once taken and
presented to the governor. They were not larger than so many
pullets, although at first sight they appeared to be so from the
length of their necks and legs. They were very beautifully
striped, and from their tender state were judged to be not more
than three or four days old. They lived only a few days.

A single egg, the production of a cassowary, was picked up in
a desert place, dropped on the sand, without covering or
protection of any kind. Its form was nearly a perfect ellipsis;
and the colour of the shell a dark green, full of little indents
on its surface. It measured eleven inches and a half in
circumference, five inches and a quarter in height, and weighed a
pound and a quarter. Afterwards we had the good fortune to take a
nest. It was found by a soldier in a sequestered solitary
situation, made in a patch of lofty fern about three feet in
diameter, rather of an oblong shape and composed of dry leaves
and tops of fern stalks, very inartificially put together. The
hollow in which lay the eggs, twelve in number, seemed made
solely by the pressure of the bird. The eggs were regularly
placed in the following position.

O
O O O
O O O O O
O O O

The soldier, instead of greedily plundering his prize,
communicated the discovery to an officer, who immediately set out
for the spot. When they had arrived there they continued for a
long time to search in vain for their object, and the soldier was
just about to be stigmatized with ignorance, credulity or
imposture, when suddenly up started the old bird and the treasure
was found at their feet.

The food of the cassowary is either grass, or a yellow
bell-flower growing in the swamps. It deserves remark, that the
natives deny the cassowary to be a bird, because it does not
fly.

Of other birds the varieties are very numerous. Of the parrot
tribe alone I could, while I am writing, count up from memory
fourteen different sorts. Hawks are very numerous, so are quails.
A single snipe has been shot. Ducks, geese and other aquatic
birds are often seen in large flocks, but are universally so shy,
that it is found difficult to shoot them. Some of the smaller
birds are very beautiful, but they are not remarkable for either
sweetness, or variety of notes. To one of them, not bigger than a
tomtit, we have given the name of coach-whip, from its note
exactly resembling the smack of a whip. The country, I am of
opinion, would abound with birds did not the natives, by
perpetually setting fire to the grass and bushes, destroy the
greater part of the nests; a cause which also contributes to
render small quadrupeds scarce. They are besides ravenously fond
of eggs and eat them wherever they find them. They call the roe
of a fish and a bird’s egg by one name.

So much has been said of the abundance in which fish are found
in the harbours of New South Wales that it looks like detraction
to oppose a contradiction. Some share of knowledge may, however,
be supposed to belong to experience. Many a night have I toiled
(in the times of distress) on the public service, from four
o’clock in the afternoon until eight o’clock next morning,
hauling the seine in every part of the harbour of Port Jackson:
and after a circuit of many miles and between twenty and thirty
hauls, seldom more than a hundred pounds of fish were taken.
However, it sometimes happens that a glut enters the harbour, and
for a few days they sufficiently abound. But the universal voice
of all professed fishermen is that they never fished in a country
where success was so precarious and uncertain.

I shall not pretend to enumerate the variety of fish which are
found. They are seen from a whale to a gudgeon. In the
intermediate classes may be reckoned sharks of a monstrous size,
skait, rock-cod, grey-mullet, bream, horse-mackarel, now and then
a sole and john dory, and innumerable others unknown in Europe,
many of which are extremely delicious, and many highly beautiful.
At the top of the list, as an article of food, stands a fish,
which we named light-horseman. The relish of this excellent fish
was increased by our natives, who pointed out to us its
delicacies. No epicure in England could pick a head with more
glee and dexterity than they do that of a light-horseman.

Reptiles in the swamps and covers are numerous. Of snakes
there are two or three sorts: but whether the bite of any of them
be mortal, or even venomous, is somewhat doubtful. I know but of
one well attested instance of a bite being received from a snake.
A soldier was bitten so as to draw blood, and the wound healed as
a simple incision usually does without shewing any symptom of
malignity. A dog was reported to be bitten by a snake, and the
animal swelled and died in great agony. But I will by no means
affirm that the cause of his death was fairly ascertained. It is,
however, certain that the natives show, on all occasions, the
utmost horror of the snake, and will not eat it, although they
esteem lizards, goannas, and many other reptiles delicious fare.
On this occasion they always observe that if the snake bites
them, they become lame, but whether by this they mean temporary
or lasting lameness I do not pretend to determine. I have often
eaten snakes and always found them palatable and nutritive,
though it was difficult to stew them to a tender state.

Summer here, as in all other countries, brings with it a long
list of insects. In the neighborhood of rivers and morasses,
mosquitoes and sandflies are never wanting at any season, but at
Sydney they are seldom numerous or troublesome. The most nauseous
and destructive of all the insects is a fly which blows not eggs
but large living maggots, and if the body of the fly be opened it
is found full of them. Of ants there are several sorts, one of
which bites very severely. The white ant is sometimes seen.
Spiders are large and numerous. Their webs are not only the
strongest, but the finest, and most silky I ever felt. I have
often thought their labour might be turned to advantage. It has,
I believe, been proved that spiders, were it not for their
quarrelsome disposition which irritates them to attack and
destroy each other, might be employed more profitably than
silk-worms.

The hardiness of some of the insects deserves to be mentioned.
A beetle was immersed in proof spirits for four hours, and when
taken out crawled away almost immediately. It was a second time
immersed, and continued in a glass of rum for a day and a night,
at the expiration of which period it still showed symptoms of
life. Perhaps, however, what I from ignorance deem wonderful is
common.

The last but the most important production yet remains to be
considered. Whether plodding in London, reeking with human blood
in Paris or wandering amidst the solitary wilds of New South
Wales–Man is ever an object of interest, curiosity and
reflection.

The natives around Port Jackson are in person rather more
diminutive and slighter made, especially about the thighs and
legs, than the Europeans. It is doubtful whether their society
contained a person of six feet high. The tallest I ever measured,
reached five feet eleven inches, and men of his height were
rarely seen. Baneelon, who towered above the majority of his
countrymen, stood barely five feet eight inches high. His other
principal dimensions were as follows:

Girth of the Chest. 2 feet 10 inches Girth of the Belly. 2
feet 6 1/2 inches Girth of the Thigh. 18 1/8 inches Girth of the
Leg at the Calf. 12 1/8 inches Girth of the Leg at the Small. 10
inches Girth of arm half way between the shoulder and elbow. 9
inches

Instances of natural deformity are scarce, nor did we ever see
one of them left-handed. They are, indeed, nearly ambidexter; but
the sword, the spear and the fish-gig are always used with the
right hand. Their muscular force is not great; but the pliancy of
their limbs renders them very active. “Give to civilized man all
his machines, and he is superior to the savage; but without
these, how inferior is he found on opposition, even more so than
the savage in the first instance.” These are the words of
Rousseau, and like many more of his positions must be received
with limitation. Were an unarmed Englishman and an unarmed New
Hollander to engage, the latter, I think, would fall.

Mr. Cook seems inclined to believe the covering of their heads
to be wool. But this is erroneous. It is certainly hair, which
when regularly combed becomes soon nearly as flexible and docile
as our own. Their teeth are not so white and good as those
generally found in Indian nations, except in the children, but
the inferiority originates in themselves. They bite sticks,
stones, shells and all other hard substances, indiscriminately
with them, which quickly destroys the enamel and gives them a
jagged and uneven appearance. A high forehead, with prominent
overhanging eyebrows, is their leading characteristic, and when
it does not operate to destroy all openness of countenance gives
an air of resolute dignity to the aspect, which recommends, in
spite of a true negro nose, thick lips, and a wide mouth. The
prominent shin bone, so invariably found in the Africans, is not,
however, seen. But in another particular they are more alike. The
rank offensive smell which disgusts so much in the negro,
prevails strongly among them when they are in their native state,
but it wears off in those who have resided with us and have been
taught habits of cleanliness. Their hands and feet are small*,
especially the former.

[*I mentioned this, among other circumstances, to
colonel Gordon when I was at the Cape, and he told me that it
indicated poverty and inadequacy of living. He instanced to me
the Hottentots and Caffres. The former fare poorly, and have
small hands and feet. The Caffres, their neighbours, live
plenteously and have very large ones. This remark cannot be
applied to civilized nations, where so many factitious causes
operate.]

Their eyes are full, black and piercing, but the almost
perpetual strain in which the optic nerve is kept, by looking out
for prey, renders their sight weak at an earlier age than we in
general find ours affected. These large black eyes are
universally shaded by the long thick sweepy eyelash, so much
prized in appreciating beauty, that, perhaps hardly any face is
so homely which this aid cannot in some degree render
interesting; and hardly any so lovely which, without it, bears
not some trace of insipidity. Their tone of voice is loud, but
not harsh. I have in some of them found it very pleasing.

Longevity, I think, is seldom attained by them. Unceasing
agitation wears out the animal frame and is unfriendly to length
of days. We have seen them grey with age, but not old; perhaps
never beyond sixty years. But it may be said, the American
Indian, in his undebauched state, lives to an advanced period.
True, but he has his seasons of repose. He reaps his little
harvest of maize and continues in idleness while it lasts. He
kills the roebuck or the moose-deer, which maintains him and his
family for many days, during which cessation the muscles regain
their spring and fit him for fresh toils. Whereas every sun
awakes the native of New South Wales (unless a whale be thrown
upon the coast) to a renewal of labour, to provide subsistence
for the present day.

The women are proportionally smaller than the men. I never
measured but two of them, who were both, I think, about the
medium height. One of them, a sister of Baneelon, stood exactly
five feet two inches high. The other, named Gooreedeeana, was
shorter by a quarter of an inch.

But I cannot break from Gooreedeeana so abruptly. She belonged
to the tribe of Cameragal, and rarely came among us. One day,
however, she entered my house to complain of hunger. She excelled
in beauty all their females I ever saw. Her age about eighteen,
the firmness, the symmetry and the luxuriancy of her bosom might
have tempted painting to copy its charms. Her mouth was small and
her teeth, though exposed to all the destructive purposes to
which they apply them, were white, sound and unbroken. Her
countenance, though marked by some of the characteristics of her
native land, was distinguished by a softness and sensibility
unequalled in the rest of her countrywomen, and I was willing to
believe that these traits indicated the disposition of her mind.
I had never before seen this elegant timid female, of whom I had
often heard; but the interest I took in her led me to question
her about her husband and family. She answered me by repeating a
name which I have now forgotten, and told me she had no children.
I was seized with a strong propensity to learn whether the
attractions of Gooreedeeana were sufficiently powerful to secure
her from the brutal violence with which the women are treated,
and as I found my question either ill understood or reluctantly
answered, I proceeded to examine her head, the part on which the
husband’s vengeance generally alights. With grief I found it
covered by contusions and mangled by scars. The poor creature,
grown by this time more confident from perceiving that I pitied
her, pointed out a wound just above her left knee which she told
me was received from a spear, thrown at her by a man who had
lately dragged her by force from her home to gratify his lust. I
afterwards observed that this wound had caused a slight lameness
and that she limped in walking. I could only compassionate her
wrongs and sympathize in her misfortunes. To alleviate her
present sense of them, when she took her leave I gave her,
however, all the bread and salt pork which my little stock
afforded.

After this I never saw her but once, when I happened to be
near the harbour’s mouth in a boat, with captain Ball. We met her
in a canoe with several more of her sex. She was painted for a
ball, with broad stripes of white earth, from head to foot, so
that she no longer looked like the same Gooreedeeana. We offered
her several presents, all of which she readily accepted; but
finding our eagerness and solicitude to inspect her, she managed
her canoe with such address as to elude our too near approach,
and acted the coquet to admiration.

To return from this digression to my subject, I have only
farther to observe that the estimation of female beauty among the
natives (the men at least) is in this country the same as in most
others. Were a New Hollander to portray his mistress, he would
draw her the ‘Venus aux belles fesses’. Whenever Baneelon
described to us his favourite fair, he always painted her in
this, and another particular, as eminently luxuriant.

Unsatisfied, however, with natural beauty (like the people of
all other countries) they strive by adscititious embellishments
to heighten attraction, and often with as little success. Hence
the naked savage of New South Wales pierces the septum of his
nose, through which he runs a stick or a bone, and scarifies his
body, the charms of which increase in proportion to the number
and magnitude of seams by which it is distinguished. The
operation is performed by making two longitudinal incisions with
a sharpened shell, and afterwards pinching up with the nails the
intermediate space of skin and flesh, which thereby becomes
considerably elevated and forms a prominence as thick as a man’s
finger. No doubt but pain must be severely felt until the wound
be healed. But the love of ornament defies weaker considerations,
and no English beau can bear more stoutly the extraction of his
teeth to make room for a fresh set from a chimney sweeper, or a
fair one suffer her tender ears to be perforated, with more
heroism than the grisly nymphs on the banks of Port Jackson,
submit their sable shoulders to the remorseless lancet.

That these scarifications are intended solely to increase
personal allurement I will not, however, positively affirm.
Similar, perhaps, to the cause of an excision of part of the
little finger of the left hand in the women, and of a front tooth
in the men;* or probably after all our conjectures, superstitious
ceremonies by which they hope either to avert evil or to
propagate good, are intended. The colours with which they besmear
the bodies of both sexes possibly date from the same common
origin. White paint is strictly appropriate to the dance. Red
seems to be used on numberless occasions, and is considered as a
colour of less consequence. It may be remarked that they
translate the epithet white when they speak of us, not by the
name which they assign to this white earth, but by that with
which they distinguish the palms of their hands.

[*It is to be observed that neither of these
ceremonies is universal, but nearly so. Why there should exist
exemptions I cannot resolve. The manner of executing them is as
follows. The finger is taken off by means of a ligature
(generally a sinew of a kangaroo) tied so tight as to stop the
circulation of the blood, which induces mortification and the
part drops off. I remember to have seen Colbee’s child, when
about a month old, on whom this operation had been just performed
by her mother. The little wretch seemed in pain, and her hand was
greatly swelled. But this was deemed too trifling a consideration
to deserve regard in a case of so much importance.

The tooth intended to be taken out is loosened by the gum
being scarified on both sides with a sharp shell. The end of a
stick is then applied to the tooth, which is struck gently
several times with a stone, until it becomes easily moveable,
when the ‘coup de grace’ is given by a smart stroke.
Notwithstanding these precautions, I have seen a considerable
degree of swelling and inflammation follow the extraction.
Imeerawanyee, I remember, suffered severely. But he boasted the
firmness and hardihood with which he had endured it. It is seldom
performed on those who are under sixteen years old.]

As this leads to an important subject I shall at once discuss
it. “Have these people any religion: any knowledge of, or belief
in a deity?– any conception of the immortality of the soul?” are
questions which have been often put to me since my arrival in
England: I shall endeavour to answer them with candour and
seriousness.

Until belief be enlightened by revelation and chastened by
reason, religion and superstition, are terms of equal import. One
of our earliest impressions is the consciousness of a superior
power. The various forms under which this impression has
manifested itself are objects of the most curious
speculation.

The native of New South Wales believes that particular aspects
and appearances of the heavenly bodies predict good or evil
consequences to himself and his friends. He oftentimes calls the
sun and moon ‘weeree,’ that is, malignant, pernicious. Should he
see the leading fixed stars (many of which he can call by name)
obscured by vapours, he sometimes disregards the omen, and
sometimes draws from it the most dreary conclusions. I remember
Abaroo running into a room where a company was assembled, and
uttering frightful exclamations of impending mischiefs about to
light on her and her countrymen. When questioned on the cause of
such agitation she went to the door and pointed to the skies,
saying that whenever the stars wore that appearance, misfortunes
to the natives always followed. The night was cloudy and the air
disturbed by meteors. I have heard many more of them testify
similar apprehensions.

However involved in darkness and disfigured by error such a
belief be, no one will, I presume, deny that it conveys a direct
implication of superior agency; of a power independent of and
uncontrolled by those who are the objects of its vengeance. But
proof stops not here. When they hear the thunder roll and view
the livid glare, they flee them not, but rush out and deprecate
destruction. They have a dance and a song appropriated to this
awful occasion, which consist of the wildest and most uncouth
noises and gestures. Would they act such a ceremony did they not
conceive that either the thunder itself, or he who directs the
thunder, might be propitiated by its performance? That a living
intellectual principle exists, capable of comprehending their
petition and of either granting or denying it? They never address
prayers to bodies which they know to be inanimate, either to
implore their protection or avert their wrath. When the gum-tree
in a tempest nods over them; or the rock overhanging the cavern
in which they sleep threatens by its fall to crush them, they
calculate (as far as their knowledge extends) on physical
principles, like other men, the nearness and magnitude of the
danger, and flee it accordingly. And yet there is reason to
believe that from accidents of this nature they suffer more than
from lightning. Baneelon once showed us a cave, the top of which
had fallen in and buried under its ruins, seven people who were
sleeping under it.

To descend; is not even the ridiculous superstition of Colbee
related in one of our journies to the Hawkesbury? And again the
following instance. Abaroo was sick. To cure her, one of her own
sex slightly cut her on the forehead, in a perpendicular
direction with an oyster shell, so as just to fetch blood. She
then put one end of a string to the wound and, beginning to sing,
held the other end to her own gums, which she rubbed until they
bled copiously. This blood she contended was the blood of the
patient, flowing through the string, and that she would thereby
soon recover. Abaroo became well, and firmly believed that she
owed her cure to the treatment she had received. Are not these, I
say, links, subordinate ones indeed, of the same golden chain? He
who believes in magic confesses supernatural agency, and a belief
of this sort extends farther in many persons than they are
willing to allow. There have lived men so inconsistent with their
own principles as to deny the existence of a God, who have
nevertheless turned pale at the tricks of a mountebank.

But not to multiply arguments on a subject where demonstration
(at least to me) is incontestable, I shall close by expressing my
firm belief that the Indians of New South Wales acknowledge the
existence of a superintending deity. Of their ideas of the origin
and duration of his existence; of his power and capacity; of his
benignity or maleficence; or of their own emanation from him, I
pretend not to speak. I have often, in common with others, tried
to gain information from them on this head; but we were always
repulsed by obstacles which we could neither pass by or surmount.
Mr. Dawes attempted to teach Abaroo some of our notions of
religion, and hoped that she would thereby be induced to
communicate hers in return. But her levity and love of play in a
great measure defeated his efforts, although every thing he did
learn from her served to confirm what is here advanced. It may be
remarked, that when they attended at church with us (which was a
common practice) they always preserved profound silence and
decency, as if conscious that some religious ceremony on our side
was performing.

The question of, whether they believe in the immortality of
the soul will take up very little time to answer. They are
universally fearful of spirits.* They call a spirit ‘mawn’. They
often scruple to approach a corpse, saying that the ‘mawn’ will
seize them and that it fastens upon them in the night when
asleep.** When asked where their deceased friends are they always
point to the skies. To believe in after existence is to confess
the immortality of some part of being. To enquire whether they
assign a ‘limited’ period to such future state would be
superfluous. This is one of the subtleties of speculation which a
savage may be supposed not to have considered, without
impeachment either of his sagacity or happiness.

[* “It is remarkable,” says Cicero, “that there
is no nation, whether barbarous or civilized, that does not
believe in the existence of spirits”.]

[**As they often eat to satiety, even to produce
sickness, may not this be the effect of an overloaded stomach:
the nightmare?]

Their manner of interring the dead has been amply described.
It is certain that instead of burying they sometimes burn the
corpse; but the cause of distinction we know not. A dead body,
covered by a canoe, at whose side a sword and shield were placed
in state, was once discovered. All that we could learn about this
important personage was that he was a ‘Gweeagal’ (one of the
tribe of Gweea) and a celebrated warrior.

To appreciate their general powers of mind is difficult.
Ignorance, prejudice, the force of habit, continually interfere
to prevent dispassionate judgment. I have heard men so
unreasonable as to exclaim at the stupidity of these people for
not comprehending what a small share of reflection would have
taught them they ought not to have expected. And others again I
have heard so sanguine in their admiration as to extol for proofs
of elevated genius what the commonest abilities were capable of
executing.

If they be considered as a nation whose general advancement
and acquisitions are to be weighed, they certainly rank very low,
even in the scale of savages. They may perhaps dispute the right
of precedence with the Hottentots or the shivering tribes who
inhabit the shores of Magellan. But how inferior do they show
when compared with the subtle African; the patient watchful
American; or the elegant timid islander of the South Seas. Though
suffering from the vicissitudes of their climate, strangers to
clothing, though feeling the sharpness of hunger and knowing the
precariousness of supply from that element on whose stores they
principally depend, ignorant of cultivating the earth–a less
enlightened state we shall exclaim can hardly exist.

But if from general view we descend to particular inspection,
and examine individually the persons who compose this community,
they will certainly rise in estimation. In the narrative part of
this work, I have endeavoured rather to detail information than
to deduce conclusions, leaving to the reader the exercise of his
own judgment. The behaviour of Arabanoo, of Baneelon, of Colbee
and many others is copiously described, and assuredly he who
shall make just allowance for uninstructed nature will hardly
accuse any of those persons of stupidity or deficiency of
apprehension.

To offer my own opinion on the subject, I do not hesitate to
declare that the natives of New South Wales possess a
considerable portion of that acumen, or sharpness of intellect,
which bespeaks genius. All savages hate toil and place happiness
in inaction, and neither the arts of civilized life can be
practised or the advantages of it felt without application and
labour. Hence they resist knowledge and the adoption of manners
and customs differing from their own. The progress of reason is
not only slow, but mechanical. “De toutes les Instructions
propres a l’homme, celle qu’il acquiert le plus tard, et le plus
difficilement, est la raison meme.” The tranquil indifference and
uninquiring eye with which they surveyed our works of art have
often, in my hearing, been stigmatized as proofs of stupidity,
and want of reflection. But surely we should discriminate between
ignorance and defect of understanding. The truth was, they often
neither comprehended the design nor conceived the utility of such
works, but on subjects in any degree familiarised to their ideas,
they generally testified not only acuteness of discernment but a
large portion of good sense. I have always thought that the
distinctions they shewed in their estimate of us, on first
entering into our society, strongly displayed the latter quality:
when they were led into our respective houses, at once to be
astonished and awed by our superiority, their attention was
directly turned to objects with which they were acquainted. They
passed without rapture or emotion our numerous artifices and
contrivances, but when they saw a collection of weapons of war or
of the skins of animals and birds, they never failed to exclaim,
and to confer with each other on the subject. The master of that
house became the object of their regard, as they concluded he
must be either a renowned warrior, or an expert hunter. Our
surgeons grew into their esteem from a like cause. In a very
early stage of intercourse, several natives were present at the
amputation of a leg. When they first penetrated the intention of
the operator, they were confounded, not believing it possible
that such an operation could be performed without loss of life,
and they called aloud to him to desist; but when they saw the
torrent of blood stopped, the vessels taken up and the stump
dressed, their horror and alarm yielded to astonishment and
admiration, which they expressed by the loudest tokens. If these
instances bespeak not nature and good sense, I have yet to learn
the meaning of the terms.

If it be asked why the same intelligent spirit which led them
to contemplate and applaud the success of the sportsman and the
skill of the surgeon, did not equally excite them to meditate on
the labours of the builder and the ploughman, I can only answer
that what we see in its remote cause is always more feebly felt
than that which presents to our immediate grasp both its origin
and effect.

Their leading good and bad qualities I shall concisely touch
upon. Of their intrepidity no doubt can exist. Their levity,
their fickleness, their passionate extravagance of character,
cannot be defended. They are indeed sudden and quick in quarrel;
but if their resentment be easily roused, their thirst of revenge
is not implacable. Their honesty, when tempted by novelty, is not
unimpeachable, but in their own society there is good reason to
believe that few breaches of it occur. It were well if similar
praise could be given to their veracity: but truth they neither
prize nor practice. When they wish to deceive they scruple not to
utter the grossest and most hardened lies.* Their attachment and
gratitude to those among us whom they have professed to love have
always remained inviolable, unless effaced by resentment, from
sudden provocation: then, like all other Indians, the impulse of
the moment is alone regarded by them.

[*This may serve to account for the
contradictions of many of their accounts to us.]

Some of their manufactures display ingenuity, when the rude
tools with which they work, and their celerity of execution are
considered. The canoes, fish-gigs, swords, shields, spears,
throwing sticks, clubs, and hatchets, are made by the men. To the
women are committed the fishing-lines, hooks and nets. As very
ample collections of all these articles are to be found in many
museums in England, I shall only briefly describe the way in
which the most remarkable of them are made. The fish-gigs and
spears are commonly (but not universally) made of the long spiral
shoot which arises from the top of the yellow gum-tree, and bears
the flower. The former have several prongs, barbed with the bone
of kangaroo. The latter are sometimes barbed with the same
substance, or with the prickle of the sting-ray, or with stone or
hardened gum, and sometimes simply pointed. Dexterity in throwing
and parrying the spear is considered as the highest acquirement.
The children of both sexes practice from the time that they are
able to throw a rush; their first essay. It forms their constant
recreation. They afterwards heave at each other with pointed
twigs. He who acts on the defensive holds a piece of new soft
bark in the left hand, to represent a shield, in which he
receives the darts of the assailant, the points sticking in it.
Now commences his turn. He extracts the twigs and darts them back
at the first thrower, who catches them similarly. In warding off
the spear they never present their front, but always turn their
side, their head at the same time just clear of the shield, to
watch the flight of the weapon; and the body covered. If a spear
drop from them when thus engaged, they do not stoop to pick it
up, but hook it between the toes and so lift it until it meet the
hand. Thus the eye is never diverted from its object, the foe. If
they wish to break a spear or any wooden substance, they lay it
not across the thigh or the body, but upon the head, and press
down the ends until it snap. Their shields are of two sorts. That
called ‘illemon’ is nothing but a piece of bark with a handle
fixed in the inside of it. The other, dug out of solid wood, is
called ‘aragoon’, and is made as follows, with great labour. On
the bark of a tree they mark the size of the shield, then dig the
outline as deep as possible in the wood with hatchets, and lastly
flake it off as thick as they can, by driving in wedges. The
sword is a large heavy piece of wood, shaped like a sabre, and
capable of inflicting a mortal wound. In using it they do not
strike with the convex side, but with the concave one, and strive
to hook in their antagonists so as to have them under their
blows. The fishing-lines are made of the bark of a shrub. The
women roll shreds of this on the inside of the thigh, so as to
twist it together, carefully inserting the ends of every fresh
piece into the last made. They are not as strong as lines of
equal size formed of hemp. The fish-hooks are chopped with a
stone out of a particular shell, and afterwards rubbed until they
become smooth. They are very much curved, and not barbed.
Considering the quickness with which they are finished, the
excellence of the work, if it be inspected, is admirable. In all
these manufactures the sole of the foot is used both by men and
women as a work-board. They chop a piece of wood, or aught else
upon it, even with an iron tool, without hurting themselves. It
is indeed nearly as hard as the hoof of an ox.

Their method of procuring fire is this. They take a reed and
shave one side of the surface flat. In this they make a small
incision to reach the pith, and introducing a stick, purposely
blunted at the end, into it, turn it round between the hands (as
chocolate is milled) as swiftly as possible, until flame be
produced. As this operation is not only laborious, but the effect
tedious, they frequently relieve each other at the exercise. And
to avoid being often reduced to the necessity of putting it in
practice, they always, if possible, carry a lighted stick with
them, whether in their canoes or moving from place to place on
land.

Their treatment of wounds must not be omitted. A doctor is,
with them, a person of importance and esteem, but his province
seems rather to charm away occult diseases than to act the
surgeon’s part, which, as a subordinate science, is exercised
indiscriminately. Their excellent habit of body*, the effect of
drinking water only, speedily heals wounds without an exterior
application which with us would take weeks or months to close.
They are, nevertheless, sadly tormented by a cutaneous eruption,
but we never found it contagious. After receiving a contusion, if
the part swell they fasten a ligature very tightly above it, so
as to stop all circulation. Whether to this application, or to
their undebauched habit, it be attributable, I know not, but it
is certain that a disabled limb among them is rarely seen,
although violent inflammations from bruises, which in us would
bring on a gangrene, daily happen. If they get burned, either
from rolling into the fire when asleep, or from the flame
catching the grass on which they lie (both of which are common
accidents) they cover the part with a thin paste of kneaded clay,
which excludes the air and adheres to the wound until it be
cured, and the eschar falls off.

[*Their native hardiness of constitution is
great. I saw a woman on the day she was brought to bed, carry her
new-born infant from Botany Bay to Port Jackson, a distance of
six miles, and afterwards light a fire and dress fish.]

Their form of government, and the detail of domestic life, yet
remain untold. The former cannot occupy much space. Without
distinctions of rank, except those which youth and vigour confer,
theirs is strictly a system of ‘equality’ attended with only one
inconvenience–the strong triumph over the weak. Whether any laws
exist among them for the punishment of offences committed against
society; or whether the injured party in all cases seeks for
relief in private revenge, I will not positively affirm; though I
am strongly inclined to believe that only the latter method
prevails. I have already said that they are divided into tribes;
but what constitutes the right of being enrolled in a tribe, or
where exclusion begins and ends, I am ignorant. The tribe of
Cameragal is of all the most numerous and powerful. Their
superiority probably arose from possessing the best fishing
ground, and perhaps from their having suffered less from the
ravages of the smallpox.

In the domestic detail there may be novelty, but variety is
unattainable. One day must be very like another in the life of a
savage. Summoned by the calls of hunger and the returning light,
he starts from his beloved indolence, and snatching up the
remaining brand of his fire, hastens with his wife to the strand
to commence their daily task. In general the canoe is assigned to
her, into which she puts the fire and pushes off into deep water,
to fish with hook and line, this being the province of the women.
If she have a child at the breast, she takes it with her. And
thus in her skiff, a piece of bark tied at both ends with vines,
and the edge of it but just above the surface of the water, she
pushes out regardless of the elements, if they be but commonly
agitated. While she paddles to the fishing-bank, and while
employed there, the child is placed on her shoulders, entwining
its little legs around her neck and closely grasping her hair
with its hands. To its first cries she remains insensible, as she
believes them to arise only from the inconvenience of a
situation, to which she knows it must be inured. But if its
plaints continue, and she supposes it to be in want of food, she
ceases her fishing and clasps it to her breast. An European
spectator is struck with horror and astonishment at their
perilous situation, but accidents seldom happen. The management
of the canoe alone appears a work of unsurmountable difficulty,
its breadth is so inadequate to its length. The Indians, aware of
its ticklish formation, practise from infancy to move in it
without risk. Use only could reconcile them to the painful
position in which they sit in it. They drop in the middle of the
canoe upon their knees, and resting the buttocks on the heels,
extend the knees to the sides, against which they press strongly,
so as to form a poise sufficient to retain the body in its
situation, and relieve the weight which would otherwise fall
wholly upon the toes. Either in this position or cautiously
moving in the centre of the vessel, the mother tends her child,
keeps up her fire (which is laid on a small patch of earth),
paddles her boat, broils fish and provides in part the
subsistence of the day. Their favourite bait for fish is a
cockle.

The husband in the mean time warily moves to some rock, over
which he can peep into unruffled water to look for fish. For this
purpose he always chooses a weather shore, and the various
windings of the numerous creeks and indents always afford one.
Silent and watchful, he chews a cockle and spits it into the
water. Allured by the bait, the fish appear from beneath the
rock. He prepares his fish-gig, and pointing it downward, moves
it gently towards the object, always trying to approach it as
near as possible to the fish before the stroke be given. At last
he deems himself sufficiently advanced and plunges it at his
prey. If he has hit his mark, he continues his efforts and
endeavours to transpierce it or so to entangle the barbs in the
flesh as to prevent its escape. When he finds it secure he drops
the instrument, and the fish, fastened on the prongs, rises to
the surface, floated by the buoyancy of the staff. Nothing now
remains to be done but to haul it to him, with either a long
stick or another fish-gig (for an Indian, if he can help it,
never goes into the water on these occasions) to disengage it,
and to look out for fresh sport.

But sometimes the fish have either deserted the rocks for
deeper water, or are too shy to suffer approach. He then launches
his canoe, and leaving the shore behind, watches the rise of prey
out of the water, and darts his gig at them to the distance of
many yards. Large fish he seldom procures by this method; but
among shoals of mullets, which are either pursued by enemies, or
leap at objects on the surface, he is often successful. Baneelon
has been seen to kill more than twenty fish by this method in an
afternoon. The women sometimes use the gig, and always carry one
in each canoe to strike large fish which may be hooked and
thereby facilitate the capture. But generally speaking, this
instrument is appropriate to the men, who are never seen fishing
with the line, and would indeed consider it as a degradation of
their pre-eminence.

When prevented by tempestuous weather or any other cause, from
fishing, these people suffer severely. They have then no resource
but to pick up shellfish, which may happen to cling to the rocks,
and be cast on the beach, to hunt particular reptiles and small
animals, which are scarce, to dig fern root in the swamps or to
gather a few berries, destitute of flavour and nutrition, which
the woods afford. To alleviate the sensation of hunger, they tie
a ligature tightly around the belly, as I have often seen our
soldiers do from the same cause.

Let us, however, suppose them successful in procuring fish.
The wife returns to land with her booty, and the husband quitting
the rock joins his stock to hers; and they repair either to some
neighbouring cavern or to their hut. This last is composed of
pieces of bark, very rudely piled together, in shape as like a
soldier’s tent as any known image to which I can compare it: too
low to admit the lord of it to stand upright, but long and wide
enough to admit three or four persons to lie under it. “Here
shelters himself a being, born with all those powers which
education expands, and all those sensations which culture
refines.” With a lighted stick brought from the canoe they now
kindle a small fire at the mouth of the hut and prepare to dress
their meal. They begin by throwing the fish exactly in the state
in which it came from the water, on the fire. When it has become
a little warmed they take it off, rub away the scales, and then
peal off with their teeth the surface, which they find done and
eat. Now, and not before, they gut it; but if the fish be a
mullet or any other which has a fatty substance about the
intestines, they carefully guard that part and esteem it a
delicacy. The cooking is now completed by the remaining part
being laid on the fire until it be sufficiently done. A bird, a
lizard, a rat, or any other animal, they treat in the same
manner. The feathers of the one and the fur of the other, they
thus get rid of.*

[*They broil indiscriminately all substances
which they eat. Though they boil water in small quantities in
oyster shells for particular purposes, they never conceived it
possible until shown by us, to dress meat by this method, having
no vessel capable of containing a fish or a bird which would
stand fire. Two of them once stole twelve pounds of rice and
carried it off. They knew how we cooked it, and by way of putting
it in practice they spread the rice on the ground before a fire,
and as it grew hot continued to throw water on it. Their
ingenuity was however very ill rewarded, for the rice became so
mingled with the dirt and sand on which it was laid, that even
they could not eat it, and the whole was spoiled.]

Unless summoned away by irresistable necessity, sleep always
follows the repast. They would gladly prolong it until the
following day; but the canoe wants repair, the fish-gig must be
barbed afresh, new lines must be twisted, and new hooks chopped
out. they depart to their respective tasks, which end only with
the light.

Such is the general life of an Indian. But even he has his
hours of relaxation, in seasons of success, when fish abounds.
Wanton with plenty, he now meditates an attack upon the chastity
of some neighbouring fair one; and watching his opportunity he
seizes her and drags her away to complete his purpose. The signal
of war is lighted; her lover, her father, her brothers, her
tribe, assemble, and vow revenge on the spoiler. He tells his
story to his tribe. They judge the case to be a common one and
agree to support him. Battle ensues; they discharge their spears
at each other, and legs and arms are transpierced. When the
spears are expended the combatants close and every species of
violence is practiced. They seize their antagonist and snap like
enraged dogs, they wield the sword and club, the bone shatters
beneath their fall and they drop the prey of unsparing
vengeance.

Too justly, as my observations teach me has Hobbes defined a
state of nature to be a state of war. In the method of waging it
among these people, one thing should not, however, escape notice.
Unlike all other Indians, they never carry on operations in the
night, or seek to destroy by ambush and surprise. Their ardent
fearless character, seeks fair and open combat only.

But enmity has its moments of pause. Then they assemble to
sing and dance. We always found their songs disagreeable from
their monotony. They are numerous, and vary both in measure and
time. They have songs of war, of hunting, of fishing, for the
rise and set of the sun, for rain, for thunder and for many other
occasions. One of these songs, which may be termed a speaking
pantomime, recites the courtship between the sexes and is
accompanied with acting highly expressive. I once heard and saw
Nanbaree and Abaroo perform it. After a few preparatory motions
she gently sunk on the ground, as if in a fainting fit. Nanbaree
applying his mouth to her ear, began to whisper in it, and baring
her bosom, breathed on it several times. At length, the period of
the swoon having expired, with returning animation she gradually
raised herself. She now began to relate what she had seen in her
vision, mentioning several of her countrymen by name, whom we
knew to be dead; mixed with other strange incoherent matter,
equally new and inexplicable, though all tending to one leading
point–the sacrifice of her charms to her lover.

At their dances I have often been present; but I confess
myself unable to convey in description an accurate account of
them. Like their songs, they are conceived to represent the
progress of the passions and the occupations of life. Full of
seeming confusion, yet regular and systematic, their wild
gesticulations, and frantic distortions of body are calculated
rather to terrify, than delight, a spectator. These dances
consist of short parts, or acts, accompanied with frequent
vociferations, and a kind of hissing, or whizzing noise. They
commonly end with a loud rapid shout, and after a short respite
are renewed. While the dance lasts, one of them (usually a person
of note and estimation) beats time with a stick on a wooden
instrument held in the left hand, accompanying the music with his
voice; and the dancers sometimes sing in concert.

I have already mentioned that white is the colour appropriated
to the dance, but the style of painting is left to every one’s
fancy. Some are streaked with waving lines from head to foot;
others marked by broad cross-bars, on the breast, back, and
thighs, or encircled with spiral lines, or regularly striped like
a zebra. Of these ornaments, the face never wants its share, and
it is hard to conceive any thing in the shape of humanity more
hideous and terrific than they appear to a stranger–seen,
perhaps, through the livid gleam of a fire, the eyes surrounded
by large white circles, in contrast with the black ground, the
hair stuck full of pieces of bone and in the hand a grasped club,
which they occasionally brandish with the greatest fierceness and
agility. Some dances are performed by men only, some by women
only, and in others the sexes mingle. In one of them I have seen
the men drop on their hands and knees and kiss the earth with the
greatest fervor, between the kisses looking up to Heaven. They
also frequently throw up their arms, exactly in the manner in
which the dancers of the Friendly Islands are depicted in one of
the plates of Mr. Cook’s last voyage.

Courtship here, as in other countries, is generally promoted
by this exercise, where every one tries to recommend himself to
attention and applause. Dancing not only proves an incentive, but
offers an opportunity in its intervals. The first advances are
made by the men, who strive to render themselves agreeable to
their favourites by presents of fishing-tackle and other articles
which they know will prove acceptable. Generally speaking, a man
has but one wife, but infidelity on the side of the husband, with
the unmarried girls, is very frequent. For the most part,
perhaps, they intermarry in their respective tribes. This rule is
not, however, constantly observed, and there is reason to think
that a more than ordinary share of courtship and presents, on the
part of the man, is required in this case. Such difficulty seldom
operates to extinguish desire, and nothing is more common than
for the unsuccessful suitor to ravish by force that which he
cannot accomplish by entreaty. I do not believe that very near
connections by blood ever cohabit. We knew of no instance of
it.

But indeed the women are in all respects treated with savage
barbarity Condemned not only to carry the children but all other
burthens, they meet in return for submission only with blows,
kicks and every other mark of brutality. When an Indian is
provoked by a woman, he either spears her or knocks her down on
the spot. On this occasion he always strikes on the head, using
indiscriminately a hatchet, a club or any other weapon which may
chance to be in his hand. The heads of the women are always
consequently seen in the state which I found that of
Gooreedeeana. Colbee, who was certainly, in other respects a good
tempered merry fellow, made no scruple of treating Daringa, who
was a gentle creature, thus. Baneelon did the same to Barangaroo,
but she was a scold and a vixen, and nobody pitied her. It must
nevertheless be confessed that the women often artfully study to
irritate and inflame the passions of the men, although sensible
that the consequence will alight on themselves.

Many a matrimonial scene of this sort have I witnessed. Lady
Mary Wortley Montague, in her sprightly letters from Turkey,
longs for some of the advocates for passive obedience and
unconditional submission then existing in England to be present
at the sights exhibited in a despotic government. A thousand
times, in like manner, have I wished that those European
philosophers whose closet speculations exalt a state of nature
above a state of civilization, could survey the phantom which
their heated imaginations have raised. Possibly they might then
learn that a state of nature is, of all others, least adapted to
promote the happiness of a being capable of sublime research and
unending ratiocination. That a savage roaming for prey amidst his
native deserts is a creature deformed by all those passions which
afflict and degrade our nature, unsoftened by the influence of
religion, philosophy and legal restriction: and that the more men
unite their talents, the more closely the bands of society are
drawn and civilization advanced, inasmuch is human felicity
augmented, and man fitted for his unalienable station in the
universe.

Of the language of New South Wales I once hoped to have
subjoined to this work such an exposition as should have
attracted public notice, and have excited public esteem. But the
abrupt departure of Mr. Dawes, who, stimulated equally by
curiosity and philanthropy, had hardly set foot on his native
country when he again quitted it to encounter new perils in the
service of the Sierra Leona company, precludes me from executing
this part of my original intention, in which he had promised to
co-operate with me; and in which he had advanced his researches
beyond the reach of competition. The few remarks which I can
offer shall be concisely detailed.

We were at first inclined to stigmatised this language as
harsh and barbarous in its sounds. Their combinations of words in
the manner they utter them, frequently convey such an effect. But
if not only their proper names of men and places, but many of
their phrases and a majority of their words, be simply and
unconnectedly considered, they will be found to abound with
vowels and to produce sounds sometimes mellifluous and sometimes
sonorous. What ear can object to the names of Colbee, (pronounced
exactly as Colby is with us) Bereewan, Bondel, Imeerawanyee,
Deedora, Wolarawaree, or Baneelon, among the men; or to
Wereeweea, Gooreedeeana, Milba*, or Matilba, among the women.
Parramatta, Gweea, Cameera, Cadi, and Memel, are names of places.
The tribes derive their appellations from the places they
inhabit. Thus Cemeeragal, means the men who reside in the bay of
Cameera; Cedigal, those who reside in the bay of Cadi; and so of
the others. The women of the tribe are denoted by adding ‘eean’
to any of the foregoing words. A Cadigaleean imports a woman
living at Cadi, or of the tribe of Cadigal. These words, as the
reader will observe, are accented either on the first syllable or
the penultima. In general, however, they are partial to the
emphasis being laid as near the beginning of the word as
possible.

[*Mrs. Johnson, wife of the chaplain of the
settlement, was so pleased with this name that she christened her
little girl, born in Port Jackson, Milba Maria Johnson.]

Of compound words they seem fond. Two very striking ones
appear in the journal to the Hawkesbury. Their translations of
our words into their language are always apposite, comprehensive,
and drawn from images familiar to them. A gun, for instance, they
call ‘gooroobeera’, that is, a stick of fire. Sometimes also, by
a licence of language, they call those who carry guns by the same
name. But the appellation by which they generally distinguished
us was that of ‘bereewolgal’, meaning men come from afar. When
they salute any one they call him ‘dameeli’, or namesake, a term
which not only implies courtesy and good-will, but a certain
degree of affection in the speaker. An interchange of names with
any one is also a symbol of friendship. Each person has several
names; one of which, there is reason to believe, is always
derived from the first fish or animal which the child, in
accompanying its father to the chase or a fishing, may chance to
kill.

Not only their combinations, but some of their simple sounds,
were difficult of pronunciation to mouths purely English.
Diphthongs often occur. One of the most common is that of ‘ae’,
or perhaps, ‘ai’, pronounced not unlike those letters in the
French verb ‘hair’, to hate. The letter ‘y’ frequently follows
‘d’ in the same syllable. Thus the word which signifies a woman
is ‘dyin’; although the structure of our language requires us to
spell it ‘deein’.

But if they sometimes put us to difficulty, many of our words
were to them unutterable. The letters ‘s’ and ‘v’ they never
could pronounce. The latter became invariably ‘w’, and the former
mocked all their efforts, which in the instance of Baneelon has
been noticed; and a more unfortunate defect in learning our
language could not easily be pointed out.

They use the ellipsis in speaking very freely; always omitting
as many words as they possibly can, consistent with being
understood. They inflect both their nouns and verbs regularly;
and denote the cases of the former and the tenses of the latter,
not like the English by auxiliary words, but like the Latins by
change of termination. Their nouns, whether substantive or
adjective, seem to admit of no plural. I have heard Mr. Dawes
hint his belief of their using a dual number, similar to the
Greeks, but I confess that I never could remark aught to confirm
it. The method by which they answer a question that they cannot
resolve is similar to what we sometimes use. Let for example the
following question be put: ‘Waw Colbee yagoono?’–Where is Colbee
to-day? ‘Waw, baw!’–Where, indeed! would be the reply. They use
a direct and positive negative, but express the affirmative by a
nod of the head or an inclination of the body.

Opinions have greatly differed, whether or not their language
be copious. In one particular it is notoriously defective. They
cannot count with precision more than four. However as far as
ten, by holding up the fingers, they can both comprehend others
and explain themselves. Beyond four every number is called great;
and should it happen to be very large, great great, which is an
Italian idiom also. This occasions their computations of time and
space to be very confused and incorrect. Of the former they have
no measure but the visible diurnal motion of the sun or the
monthly revolution of the moon.

To conclude the history of a people for whom I cannot but feel
some share of affection. Let those who have been born in more
favoured lands and who have profited by more enlightened systems,
compassionate, but not despise their destitute and obscure
situation. Children of the same omniscient paternal care, let
them recollect that by the fortuitous advantage of birth alone
they possess superiority: that untaught, unaccommodated man is
the same in Pall Mall as in the wilderness of New South Wales.
And ultimately let them hope and trust that the progress of
reason and the splendor of revelation will in their proper and
allotted season be permitted to illumine and transfuse into these
desert regions, knowledge, virtue and happiness.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Observations on the Convicts.

A short account of that class of men for whose disposal and
advantage the colony was principally, if not totally, founded,
seems necessary.

If it be recollected how large a body of these people are now
congregated in the settlement of Port Jackson and at Norfolk
Island, it will, I think, not only excite surprise but afford
satisfaction, to learn, that in a period of four years few crimes
of a deep dye or of a hardened nature have been perpetrated.
Murder and unnatural sins rank not hitherto in the catalogue of
their enormities, and one suicide only has been committed.

To the honour of the female part of our community let it be
recorded that only one woman has suffered capital punishment. On
her condemnation she pleaded pregnancy, and a jury of venerable
matrons was impanneled on the spot, to examine and pronounce her
state, which the forewoman, a grave personage between sixty and
seventy years old, did, by this short address to the court;
‘Gentlemen! she is as much with child as I am.’ Sentence was
accordingly passed, and she was executed.

Besides the instance of Irving, two other male convicts,
William Bloodsworth, of Kingston upon Thames, and John Arscott,
of Truro, in Cornwall, were both emancipated for their good
conduct, in the years 1790 and 1791. Several men whose terms of
transportation had expired, and against whom no legal impediment
existed to prevent their departure, have been permitted to enter
in merchant ships wanting hands: and as my Rose Hill journals
testify, many others have had grants of land assigned to them,
and are become settlers in the country.

In so numerous a community many persons of perverted genius
and of mechanical ingenuity could not but be assembled. Let me
produce the following example. Frazer was an iron manufacturer,
bred at Sheffield, of whose abilities as a workman we had
witnessed many proofs. The governor had written to England for a
set of locks to be sent out for the security of the public
stores, which were to be so constructed as to be incapable of
being picked. On their arrival his excellency sent for Frazer and
bade him examine them telling him at the same time that they
could not be picked. Frazer laughed and asked for a crooked nail
only, to open them all. A nail was brought, and in an instant he
verified his assertion. Astonished at his dexterity, a gentleman
present determined to put it to farther proof. He was sent for in
a hurry, some days after, to the hospital, where a lock of still
superior intricacy and expense to the others had been provided.
He was told that the key was lost and that the lock must be
immediately picked. He examined it attentively, remarked that it
was the production of a workman, and demanded ten minutes to make
an instrument ‘to speak with it.’ Without carrying the lock with
him, he went directly to his shop, and at the expiration of his
term returned, applied his instrument, and open flew the lock.
But it was not only in this part of his business that he
excelled: he executed every branch of it in superior style. Had
not his villainy been still more notorious than his skill, he
would have proved an invaluable possession to a new country. He
had passed through innumerable scenes in life, and had played
many parts. When too lazy to work at his trade he had turned
thief in fifty different shapes, was a receiver of stolen goods,
a soldier and a travelling conjurer. He once confessed to me that
he had made a set of tools, for a gang of coiners, every man of
whom was hanged.

Were the nature of the subject worthy of farther illustration,
many similar proofs of misapplied talents might be adduced.

Their love of the marvellous has been recorded in an early
part of this work. The imposture of the gold finder, however
prominent and glaring, nevertheless contributed to awaken
attention and to create merriment. He enjoyed the reputation of a
discoverer, until experiment detected the imposition. But others
were less successful to acquire even momentary admiration. The
execution of forgery seems to demand at least neatness of
imitation and dexterity of address. On arrival of the first fleet
of ships from England, several convicts brought out
recommendatory letters from different friends. Of these some were
genuine, and many owed their birth to the ingenuity of the
bearers. But these last were all such bungling performances as to
produce only instant detection and succeeding contempt. One of
them addressed to the governor, with the name of Baron Hotham
affixed to it, began ‘Honored Sir!’

A leading distinction, which marked the convicts on their
outset in the colony, was an use of what is called the ‘flash’,
or ‘kiddy’ language. In some of our early courts of justice an
interpreter was frequently necessary to translate the deposition
of the witness and the defence of the prisoner. This language has
many dialects. The sly dexterity of the pickpocket, the brutal
ferocity of the footpad, the more elevated career of the
highwayman and the deadly purpose of the midnight ruffian is each
strictly appropriate in the terms which distinguish and
characterize it. I have ever been of opinion that an abolition of
this unnatural jargon would open the path to reformation. And my
observations on these people have constantly instructed me that
indulgence in this infatuating cant is more deeply associated
with depravity and continuance in vice than is generally
supposed. I recollect hardly one instance of a return to honest
pursuits, and habits of industry, where this miserable perversion
of our noblest and peculiar faculty was not previously
conquered.

Those persons to whom the inspection and management of our
numerous and extensive prisons in England are committed will
perform a service to society by attending to the foregoing
observation. Let us always keep in view, that punishment, when
not directed to promote reformation, is arbitrary, and
unauthorised.

CHAPTER XIX.

Facts relating to the probability of establishing a whale
fishery on the coast of New South Wales, with Thoughts on the
same.

In every former part of this publication I have studiously
avoided mentioning a whale fishery, as the information relating
to it will, I conceive, be more acceptably received in this form,
by those to whom it is addressed, than if mingled with other
matter.

Previous to entering on this detail, it must be observed that
several of the last fleet of ships which had arrived from England
with convicts, were fitted out with implements for whale fishing,
and were intended to sail for the coast of Brazil to pursue the
fishery, immediately on having landed the convicts.

On the 14th of October, 1791, the ‘Britannia’, Captain
Melville, one of these ships, arrived at Sydney. In her passage
between Van Diemen’s Land and Port Jackson, the master reported
that he had seen a large shoal of spermaceti whales. His words
were, ‘I saw more whales at one time around my ship than in the
whole of six years which I have fished on the coast of
Brazil.’

This intelligence was no sooner communicated than all the
whalers were eager to push to sea. Melville himself was among the
most early; and on the 10th of November, returned to Port
Jackson, more confident of success than before. He assured me
that in the fourteen days which he had been out, he had seen more
spermaced whales than in all his former life. They amounted, he
said to many thousands, most of them of enormous magnitude; and
had he not met with bad weather he could have killed as many as
he pleased. Seven he did kill, but owing to the stormy agitated
state of the water, he could not get any of them aboard. In one
however, which in a momentary interval of calm, was killed and
secured by a ship in company, he shared. The oil and head matter
of this fish, he extolled as of an extraordinary fine quality. He
was of opinion the former would fetch ten pounds per ton more in
London than that procured on the Brazil coast. He had not gone
farther south than 37 degrees; and described the latitude of 35
degrees to be the place where the whales most abounded, just on
the edge of soundings, which here extends about fifteen leagues
from the shore; though perhaps, on other parts of the coast the
bank will be found to run hardly so far off.

On the following day (November 11th) the ‘Mary Anne’, Captain
Munro, another of the whalers, returned into port, after having
been out sixteen days. She had gone as far south as 41 degrees
but saw not a whale, and had met with tremendously bad weather,
in which she had shipped a sea that had set her boiling coppers
afloat and had nearly carried them overboard.

November 22d. The ‘William and Anne’, Captain Buncker,
returned after having been more than three weeks out, and putting
into Broken Bay. This is the ship that had killed the fish in
which Melville shared. Buncker had met with no farther success,
owing, he said, entirely, to gales of wind; for he had seen
several immense shoals and was of opinion that he should have
secured fifty tons of oil, had the weather been tolerably
moderate. I asked him whether he thought the whales he had seen
were fish of passage. “No,” he answered, “they were going on every
point of the compass, and were evidently on feeding ground, which
I saw no reason to doubt that they frequent.” Melville afterwards
confirmed to me this observation. December 3rd, the ‘Mary Anne’
and ‘Matilda’ again returned. The former had gone to the
southward, and off Port Jervis had fallen in with two shoals of
whales, nine of which were killed, but owing to bad weather, part
of five only were got on board. As much, the master computed, as
would yield thirty barrels of oil. He said the whales were the
least shy of any he had ever seen, “not having been cut up”. The
latter had gone to the northward, and had seen no whales but a
few fin-backs.

On the 5th of December, both these ships sailed again; and on
the 16th and 17th of the month (just before the author sailed for
England) they and the ‘Britannia’ and ‘William and Anne’ returned
to Port Jackson without success having experienced a continuation
of the bad weather and seen very few fish. They all said that
their intention was to give the coast one more trial, and if it
miscarried to quit it and steer to the northward in search of
less tempestuous seas.

The only remark which I have to offer to adventurers on the
above subject, is not to suffer discouragement by concluding that
bad weather only is to be found on the coast of New South Wales,
where the whales have hitherto been seen. Tempests happen
sometimes there, as in other seas, but let them feel assured that
there are in every month of the year many days in which the whale
fishery may be safely carried on. The evidence of the abundance
in which spermaceti whales are sometimes seen is
incontrovertible: that which speaks to their being ‘not fish of
passage’ is at least respectable and hitherto uncontradicted. The
prospect merits attention–may it stimulate to enterprise.

The two discoveries of Port Jervis and Matilda Bay (which are
to be found in the foregoing sheets) may yet be wanting in the
maps of the coast. My account of their geographic situation,
except possibly in the exact longitude of the latter (a point not
very material) may be safely depended upon. A knowledge of Oyster
Bay, discovered and laid down by the ‘Mercury’ store-ship, in the
year 1789, would also be desirable. But this I am incapable of
furnishing.

Here terminates my subject. Content with the humble province
of detailing facts and connecting events by undisturbed
narration, I leave to others the task of anticipating glorious,
or gloomy, consequences, from the establishment of a colony,
which unquestionably demands serious investigation, ere either
its prosecution or abandonment be determined.

But doubtless not only those who planned, but those who have
been delegated to execute, an enterprise of such magnitude, have
deeply revolved, that “great national expense does not imply the
necessity of national suffering. While revenue is employed with
success to some valuable end, the profits of every adventure
being more than sufficient to repay its costs, the public should
gain, and its resources should continue to multiply. But an
expense whether sustained at home or abroad; whether a waste of
the present, or an anticipation of the future, revenue, if it
bring no adequate return, is to be reckoned among the causes of
national ruin.”*

[*Ferguson’s Essay on the History of Civil
Society.]

A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port Jackson

by

Watkin Tench

Table of Contents

PREFACE

A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port Jackson

PREFACE

CHAPTER I.

A Retrospect of the State of the Colony of Port Jackson, on the Date of my former Narrative, in July, 1788.

CHAPTER II.

Transactions of the Colony from the sailing of the First Fleet in July, 1788, to the Close of that Year.

CHAPTER III.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Commencement of the Year 1789, until the End of March.

CHAPTER IV.

Transactions of the Colony in April and May, 1789.

CHAPTER V.

Transactions of the Colony until the Close of the Year 1789.

CHAPTER VI.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Beginning of the Year 1790 until the End of May following.

CHAPTER VII

Transactions of the Colony in June, July, and August, 1790.

CHAPTER VIII.

Transactions of the Colony in the Beginning of September, 1790.

CHAPTER IX.

Transactions of the Colony in part of September and October, 1790.

CHAPTER X.

The arrival of the ‘Supply’ from Batavia; the State of the Colony in November, 1790.

CHAPTER XI.

Farther Transactions of the Colony in November, 1790.

CHAPTER XII.

Transactions of the Colony in Part of December, 1790.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Transactions of the Colony continued to the End of May, 1791.

CHAPTER XIV.

Travelling Diaries in New South Wales.

CHAPTER XV.

Transactions of the Colony to the end of November, 1791.

CHAPTER XVI

Transactions of the colony until 18th of December 1791, when I quitted it, with an Account of its state at that time.

CHAPTER XVII.

Miscellaneous Remarks on the country. On its vegetable productions. On its climate. On its animal productions. On its natives, etc.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Observations on the Convicts.

CHAPTER XIX.

Facts relating to the probability of establishing a whale fishery on the coast of New South Wales, with Thoughts on the same.

THE END

A Complete Account of the Settlement at Port
Jackson

A Retrospect of the State of the Colony of Port Jackson, on
the Date of my former Narrative, in July, 1788.

Transactions of the Colony from the sailing of the First
Fleet in July, 1788, to the Close of that Year.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Commencement of the Year
1789, until the End of March.

Transactions of the Colony until the Close of the Year
1789.

Transactions of the Colony, from the Beginning of the Year
1790 until the End of May following.

Transactions of the Colony in June, July, and August,
1790.

Transactions of the Colony in the Beginning of September,
1790.

Transactions of the Colony in part of September and October,
1790.

The arrival of the ‘Supply’ from Batavia; the State of the
Colony in November, 1790.

The Transactions of the Colony continued to the End of May,
1791.

Transactions of the colony until 18th of December 1791, when
I quitted it, with an Account of its state at that time.

Miscellaneous Remarks on the country. On its vegetable
productions. On its climate. On its animal productions. On its
natives, etc.

Facts relating to the probability of establishing a whale
fishery on the coast of New South Wales, with Thoughts on the
same.