by Watkin Tench
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’.*4 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.
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 McEntire, 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 straight 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 musket 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.
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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 goo
d 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.*
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 Bòndel, 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, dependent on the humanity of his tribe for protection.*2 His disappearance seemed to make no impression on the rest of his countrymen, who were apprised 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.†
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.*3 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.
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 horrors 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°; and here I scarcely pass a week in summer without seeing it rise to 100°; 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 convictoffenders 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 Darìnga, 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.
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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.
Our party was strong and numerous. It consisted of twentyone 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, it if 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.