To Begin the World Over Again

by Matthew Lockwood

  Despite Arabanoo’s tender ministrations, the old Eora man died mere hours after arriving in Port Jackson. His deathbed scene was a heart-rending sight. According to a witness:

  he bore the pangs of dissolution with patient composure; and though he was sensible to the last moment, expired almost without a groan. Nanbaree [the Eora boy] 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.

  Arabanoo once more saw to the burial. Remarkably, Nanbaree recovered, and was adopted into the family of Mr. White, the colony’s surgeon-general.36

  As the days passed, the outbreak only became worse. Two Eora youths, a brother and sister, arrived in the British settlement in great distress, both afflicted with smallpox. Once more Arabanoo and the surgeons did what they could, but the young boy quickly weakened and died. In silence his sister lay down beside his body, remaining by his side until the cold of night forced her to retreat. As his people died around him, Arabanoo, who had done so much to aid his sick brethren, himself fell ill. The British surgeons did their best to see him through the ordeal, but after six days of illness, Arabanoo died, a victim of his “humanity and affectionate concern towards his sick compatriots,” but also of an illness unknown before the arrival of the British.37

  With no immunity to the disease the mortality rate was staggering. So too were the dislocating effects. When the disease first began to break out in April 1789, the Eora had no previous reference for understanding the causes of their suffering, nor how to combat it. Nothing in their traditional repertoire seemed to have an ameliorating effect, and, as more and more of their people were laid low by the terrifying, disfiguring pestilence, many simply fled, leaving scores of the sick “laying Dead on the Beaches and in the Caverns of Rocks, forsaken by the rest as soon as the Disease is discovered on them. They were generally found with the remains of a Small Fire on each Side of them and some Water left within their Reach.” But flight did not save them and the disease merely spread more rapidly as the infected population scattered. Death, and flight from it, left behind broken communities in which hunting, fishing, and gathering—the keys to survival among the Eora—were severely disrupted by the loss of the adult population. This was only exacerbated by the fact that smallpox was most virulent among those under 5 years of age and those above 14. More than half of the adult population would have succumbed, with many more absent as they attempted to escape the disease. Pregnant women and children under 5 died at an even higher rate, meaning that almost an entire new generation of Eora were wiped out in an instant. In the aftermath of the outbreak, local communities were greatly reduced, but also newly imbalanced. More Eora between the ages of 5 and 14 survived than any other group. Young children and adults would have been scarce on the ground, leaving communities struggling to survive in both the present and the future. By the time the worst of it had passed, perhaps as many as 70 per cent of the local population were dead. It had been barely more than a year since the arrival of the British at Botany Bay.38

  As had happened in North America two centuries earlier, the outbreak of virulent disease among the indigenous peoples of Australia quickly undermined effective local resistance to British incursions and provided both space and justification for subsequent British settlement. Because the effects of the disease were seen to be a positive boon for British interests, in both North American and Australian contexts it has been suggested that the release of smallpox was an intentional act and early instance of biological warfare rather than merely a tragic but accidental result of contact between previously isolated human populations. There is no direct evidence of a concerted plan to release smallpox among Native Americans or Australian Aborigines, but the circumstantial evidence in the Australian case is at least suggestive.39

  Bennelong’s fate was inextricably tied to that of Arabanoo. He certainly would have heard about the capture of Arabanoo, and may even have been present at the mêlée on the beach or seen the melancholy man himself on one of his many excursions under British guard. Perhaps he heard stories of Arabanoo’s selfless care for his sick countrymen and of his untimely demise in reluctant captivity. Bennelong had himself suffered from the smallpox at this time, but unlike other ill Eora, had not sought aid in the British settlement. Whatever he knew of Arabanoo’s life and death, when the captive died in May 1789, the course of Bennelong’s life changed forever. Despite his unhappiness and his attempts to escape, Arabanoo had proved highly useful to Governor Phillip. He had begun to provide the British with accounts of the “customs and manners” of the local peoples, as well as the indigenous names for plants, animals, rivers and bays, the starting point for translation. His death, however, disrupted this new flow of information, and Phillip quickly ordered his men to capture another Eora. “By his death, the scheme which had invited his capture was utterly defeated,” a British settler observed. “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.”40

  By November 1789, Governor Phillip had decided that new captives must be acquired if the British were to gain any information about the resources of the country. A party led by Lieutenant Bradley was duly dispatched and returned with two young Eora men, Bennelong and Colbee. Bradley reported that the two were captured without firing a shot, but this seems unlikely given the resistance encountered when Arabanoo was taken. Jacob Nagle, who was likely present as well and perhaps had less reason to mask the violence of the abduction, presents a different story. Nagle recalls that he was in one of three boats sent “down the harbor . . . to take some of the heads of the natives to naturalize them.” They landed at a likely spot in Manly Bay, and were approached by a group of friendly Eora. The two targets were pointed out to the men and when a signal was given, “the boats’ crews seized them and carried them into the boats in an instant.” Far from acquiescing to the kidnapping, the Eora fought back, “the spears begin to fly, the officers and sum marines firing upon them, but losing their chiefs they were very resolute, but retreating in the bushes, they hove their spears at random.” Under a hail of spears, and with a heavy covering fire, the three boats just managed to escape, returning to Port Jackson where the captives were greeted by a pair of friendly faces. They were welcomed by Abaroo and Nanbaree, two Eora previously captured by the British who seemed to have had some previous acquaintance with the new arrivals, calling them by name.41

  When he was captured, Bennelong was about 26 years of age, a tall, stout young man with a brave, defiant character not altered by his imprisonment. Bennelong’s battle experience was visibly marked on his body. His head was covered in the scars of battle, and an arm, leg and thumb bore the marks of spear wounds. Bennelong’s intelligence and resourcefulness served him well during his years in captivity. He quickly became accustomed to British ways, learning the language and manners of his captors rapidly, regaling his captors with song and dance, and tales of his conquests in love and war. Unlike previous Eora prisoners, Bennelong freely provided information about the customs and economy of his people and developed a relationship of mutual respect and friendship with Governor Phillip. Outwardly at least, Bennelong played the role the British hoped for, the happy informant. His true feelings about his situation, however, were much more complex, as would be revealed in 1790.42

  The necessity of native information became more starkly apparent to the British in that year. Although they had been living in Australia for nearly two years, the settlement was s
till not completely self-sufficient. Like the Plymouth colony in North America, the Port Jackson colony depended on supplies from Britain and other colonies to survive. In 1790, the supply ship failed to appear as scheduled and famine and despair began to creep into the British camp. As the prospect of starvation began to stalk the land, prisoners and soldiers alike began to steal from the gardens and storehouses that provided the only tangible means of subsistence. In such trying times, the full weight of British law was once more applied. According to Watkin Tench:

  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 . . . 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 . . . Such was the melancholy length to which we were compelled to stretch our penal system.43

  This acute lack of provisions, and the brutal eventualities it precipitated, only made the importance of local knowledge all the more stark. If the settlement was to have any chance of long-term success it would have to learn how to grow, hunt and gather its own resources. If they were to make a stab at true self-sufficiency, the colony needed information about native resources from men like Bennelong. At the same time, however, they attempted to prevent Bennelong from learning of their dire circumstances, fearing that if news of their weakened state reached the local Eora, they might seize the opportunity to be rid of the British once and for all.

  When Bennelong escaped in May of 1790, these fears seemed to have been realized. At two o’clock in the morning on May 3, Bennelong feigned illness, sending his watcher out of their house to seek aid. With no one watching, he crept out of the house, jumped over a fence and made his break for freedom. Months later, contact was made with Bennelong once more, with near fatal consequences. On September 7, a party from Port Jackson heading for Broken Bay spotted roughly 200 Eora gathered around the carcass of a whale at Manly Cove, roasting its meat over dozens of fires. A beached whale was a great boon to the Eora, and on such occasions a festive atmosphere often prevailed, but as the British approached the Eora were clearly on their guard. When they spotted the British party making ready to land, they scrambled to collect their spears to confront the looming threat. The British party were alarmed by the hostile response to their approach, but when they spotted a familiar face among the crowd, they relaxed a little. With two new scars marring his face and a scraggly beard hiding his features, Bennelong was difficult to recognize at first, but the reunion of former captive and captors eased tensions enough for the British to enter into conversation with the Eora. They enquired after the governor, and asked for hatchets—better for breaking apart the fibrous whale carcass than the shell blades they traditionally employed—but were disappointed when they were given knives, shirts and handkerchiefs instead. Despite the outward amiability of the encounter, the Eora remained wary and their women and children stood well apart, refusing to come nearer even at the offer of rewards.

  Despite the somewhat strained meeting, the British party decided to continue on to Broken Bay as originally intended, while a few of the sailors returned to Port Jackson to acquaint the governor of the encounter with Bennelong and the large party of Eora. In their boat they also carried a large hunk of whale meat, a gift from Bennelong to the governor. When Governor Phillip heard that Bennelong had been found, he immediately gathered a crew and set out for Manly Cove. Butchering and consuming a whale is a laborious task, even for 200 hungry people, so when Governor Phillip arrived at Manly Cove, Bennelong and company were still on the beach. The governor and three men proceeded onshore, and although Bennelong at first seemed a bit aloof, he quickly transformed into the affable person the British had come to know and admire. He accepted a glass of wine, offering a toast to the king before downing it, asked after British friends in Port Jackson, performed his familiar mocking impression of the settlement’s French cook, and inquired about a woman he had kissed, giving a surprised lieutenant a kiss in re-enactment of the amorous event.

  The convivial calm was broken, however, when the governor’s party attempted to make their way inland from the beach. They were quickly surrounded on all sides by the Eora and though no violence was offered, were forced to retreat back to their original position on the beach. Back on the beach, peace once more prevailed, but after another half hour of conversation, the tension was ratcheted back up by the appearance of an Eora warrior with spear in hand. The spearman approached the party, eventually coming to a stop about 20 yards from the four Europeans. In an attempt to put the newcomer at ease, the governor slowly approached him, holding out his hand in a sign of friendship and throwing down the dirk he kept at his belt. The governor’s amiable gestures did not have the desired effect, and as he came nearer, the Eora man became more tense, and readied his spear for action.

  Whether because he did not wish to appear weak in front of the assembled Eora or because he thought it the best way of diffusing the situation, Governor Phillip continued his steady advance. It would be a costly error in judgment. As Watkin Tench later related:

  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.44

  The scene now descended into chaos. Bennelong disappeared into the hinterland while a cascade of spears showered the British. The men left in the boats attempted to reach their besieged comrades, but only one of their muskets would fire. Meanwhile a grievously wounded Governor Phillip struggled to make his way to safety. According to Tench:

  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.45

  The governor was quickly transported back to Port Jackson. Although many thought he would surely die, the spearhead was successfully removed and the bleeding stopped.46

  The governor was quickly on the mend, but it was clear to all that relations with the Eora had soured. Some have since suggested that the attack on Governor Phillip was a deliberate plan, hatched by Bennelong as a means of seeking revenge or evening the score for his kidnapping. There is little evidence of Bennelong’s thinking in this period, so it is impossible to know whether the attack had been planned, but whatever its immediate cause, the mêlée at Manly Cove was the beginning of a period of heightened tensions, even hostility, between the British and the Eora. The Eora stopped all contact with the British and at least one other European party was ambushed. Jacob Nagle and a group of sailors were attacked while pushing away from shore a short time later. The boat’s coxswain was speared through the right arm, and Nagle himself saw a spear strike the side of the mast next to which he was standing. The governor’s earlier attempts to ensure peace by limiting the use of firearms was reversed and soldiers
and sailors now went armed when they left the relative safety of the settlement.47

  When contact with the Eora sporadically resumed, the British learned that the governor’s attacker was a man from Broken Bay. With renewed contact also came clues about the possible reasons for the attack and the hardening of relations. Two Eora men from Rose Hill asked after the governor’s health and were please when informed that he was on the mend, but also “expressed great dissatisfaction at the number of white men who had settled in their former territories.” By 1790, the Eora living closest to the British settlement were likely resigned to their continued presence. With the arrival of a second fleet carrying nearly a thousand more convicts in June of 1790, and the gradual expansion of the British presence, however, new groups of Eora, previously somewhat insulated from the European influx, were likely awakening to the seriousness of the threat. The fact that Phillip’s attacker came from Broken Bay, an area initially more removed from the British but now being invaded, is unsurprising. It certainly seems a more likely cause of the attack than Bennelong’s desire to balance the scales, especially given Bennelong’s actions in the coming months.48

  In September, after a period of heightened tension between Eora and European, a fire was spotted on the north shore of Sydney Harbor. A party sent out from the British settlement to investigate found Bennelong and several of his countrymen gathered on the beach. Despite the previous bloodshed, the meeting was civil and a dinner was arranged between the two parties later in the day. While they may have been bemused by his escape and the attack on Governor Phillip, the British remained keenly aware of the crucial utility of indigenous informants. As such, they made a considerable effort to patch things over with their former captive, hoping to gradually convince him to return, at least on occasion, to Port Jackson. Toward this end, gifts were given, food and wine provided, and Bennelong given a shave, an act that for Bennelong had the added benefit of deeply impressing his countrymen. It is clear, even from British accounts, that Bennelong was using the British as much as they were using him. He was aware that the British needed the knowledge and information he could provide, and he leveraged this need for his own ends. Not only did Bennelong receive handsome gifts from the British, but on a number of occasions he used his knowledge of British goods and customs, and a lack of fear in the face of British practices such as shaving, to improve his standing in his own community.49