Part 14
[Footnote 79: _Browning's England's Exiles_, 1842.]
SECTION V.
Those who delight to distinguish practical wisdom from theory, will derive no countenance from the early practice of transportation. To rid the parent state of an encumbrance, was alone the immediate object of the government: all beyond was surrendered to fate. The absorbing agitation of Europe, then filled with wars and revolutions, diverted the public gaze from a distant experiment, and left to local discretion the details of its working. The difficulties of this extempore system were really great: that competition for penal labor, which afterwards made its distribution a boon, had no existence; the social influence of a strong body of settlers, habituated to industry, and expecting opulence as its reward, was an auxiliary unknown. Political economy, as a practical science, was lightly esteemed: the choice of instruments to effect a royal purpose, rarely determined by their specific qualifications. The first rulers of these colonies were, indeed, men of literary pretensions; several, of extensive nautical experience: trained on the quarter deck in the discipline of war, when royal ships were often scenes of great courage, and of equal despotism and debasement--when seamen were taken from the dock, impressed from the trader, and even stolen on the streets. Taught to govern a crew, they were judged by the ministry exactly qualified to coerce and control a body of prisoners. There were some advantages in this choice: they were men who knew how to subject the will of masses; their fearless temper felt no dread of those wild and lawless spirits surrendered to their power. They could transfer the system of the navy to the shore: they were not intimidated by hardships, and they were accustomed to privations: perhaps, no other profession could have furnished adventurers, on the whole, so well qualified for their task.
But in planting a colony, tillage is the first element of success; of this, they knew nothing: they could destroy a fort, or erect a tent; but to subdue the earth to the plough, or to construct a town, required another education. They gave, and long preserved, to the site of the city, the name of _camp_: thus the first efforts at cultivation were unfortunate: they had passed two years in New Holland, scratching up the earth with hoes, and ought to have gathered a harvest, when they were on the verge of starvation.[80]
Among the thousand persons landed, not one could be found possessing a knowledge of agriculture.[81] What they did not know, they could not teach. The misapplication of labor was prodigious: they acquired the art of cultivation by the slow process of experiment; and thus they came to a conclusion, only lately obsolete--that an Australasian husbandman is spoiled by the agricultural knowledge of Europe.
The immediate direction of labor, from the beginning, was committed to convicts. To stand over the prisoners, was not an agreeable occupation for gentlemen: thus the actual working of transportation, as a penal system, was entrusted to men, often clever and corrupt, whose brutal habits and savage demeanour excited disgust and fear. This error perpetuated itself: persons of character rejected a position, so often occupied by the worthless: even the distribution of labor was entrusted to such hands, or subject to their influence. To the prisoners, in reality, they sold indulgences of the crown, or exacted a revenue from their vices. The chief superintendent of convicts at Sydney, and who long determined what men should be dispatched to this country, was himself doubly convicted.[82] This was far from destroying eligibility: it became at last an official proverb, that bad men, from the very vices of their character, were the fittest for a direct supervision; and, finally, that the world is divided between the rogue and the fool. The use of power, when entrusted to such hands, is no problem; nor is it possible to imagine greater degradation, or punishment more capricious, than of the unfortunate person subject to such taskmasters; in whose hands, according to the custom of early times, the rod of authority was not a metaphor.[83]
That form of service, known as assignment, was established by Governor King in 1804. The master was bound by indenture to retain his servant for one year, and for every day deficient, a penalty of one shilling was imposed: the quantity of the work to be done was prescribed; contingent, however, on the nature of the soil, the state of the weather, and the strength of the workman: the surplus of his time might be occupied by the master, but his earnings were his own. Wages were L10 per annum, and for a female L7; but the deficiency of money, induced the employers to allot a proportion of time as a compensation, or to supply goods, on which an advance was claimed, often extremely oppressive; and when the season rendered servants less useful, the masters were tempted to obtain relief by false accusations, or to allow their men to quit the premises--who sought, by labor or theft, the means of subsistence.
To restrict the habit of change, Macquarie established the rule that no convict should be returnable, except for infirmity, sickness, or crime; but when the supply exceeded the demand, this condition was evaded, and the result--an accumulation in the hands of the government. A large proportion were from the manufacturing districts of Great Britain: they were utterly ignorant of farming, and when the plough superceded the hoe, they required a tedious training before they repaid the expense of their support.
The agriculture of this colony was long trifling: the convicts were chiefly employed as stockmen and shepherds: from the banks of the Derwent to the district of Launceston, the land in general was a wilderness, unfenced and untenanted: the men, stationed forty and fifty miles from their masters' dwellings, were rarely visited, and were under no immediate control. They were armed, to defend themselves from the natives, and clad in skins: they lived in turf huts, thatched with long grass, and revived the example of savage life.[84]
It was the custom to allot to the superior officers, magistrates, and constables, in proportion to their rank, a certain number of men, who were subsisted from the king's stores. A skilful mechanic, or pedlar, was a valuable acquisition: he hired his own time, and paid from 5s. to L1, according to its estimated weekly value, while the master drew, for his own use, the rations of the servant. Others rented farms, and paid their masters in produce; and when "government men," as assigned servants were called, were unable to obtain payment, and thus failed to make good an engagement with the master, they were liable to be thrown back into their former position.
Tickets-of-leave were freely given to those incapable of much service to the government, or its officers: such as were useful, whatever might be their conduct, were long detained, and for a period often indefinite. Females, who arrived with property, were discharged to enjoy it. If followed by the husband, the wife was instantly assigned to his care. To enable a prisoner to support his wife when she joined him, or when a convict married a convict, if of no special value he was released to labor for himself.
No accurate account was preserved of these distributions, and a notice appeared during the government of Sorell, which required all women living at large to give an account of the grounds on which they pretended to freedom, or otherwise to obtain a regular ticket-of-leave.
Under a system so irregular, great practical injustice was occasionally inflicted: while advantages were enjoyed by artisans, who could hire their time; who obtained large profits from their trade, and indulged in every form of vice and licentiousness.[85]
An action in 1821 (Loane _v._ Beamont), for the recovery of a debt incurred by a prisoner of the crown assigned to the defendant, illustrated the system which then prevailed. The man in question arrived in 1813, and in 1816 he was Beamont's government man, who then by verbal agreement, and afterwards in writing, engaged to sell him a farm, near Herdsman's Cove, for L1,400, including the stock and implements of husbandry. He possessed, besides a sum of money, a considerable flock of sheep. There was nothing disguised in this transaction: the annual rental was intended to cover the purchase. The judge remarked, that the memorandum "was as good a sale upon honor as ever he saw." The suit was an instance of the strange perversion of prison discipline, which however excited no remark, and therefore could not be uncommon.
At the close of Governor Davey's administration in 1817, the population of Van Diemen's Land was 3,114, and of these 566 resided in the county of Cornwall. The convicts were slowly augmented by deportations from Sydney, and they were subject to the absolute will of the officers. It is in vain to look for systems in a community so small, and separated by so great a distance from public opinion. Management was lax or rigid, according to the temper of the moment; and no object was contemplated by those who had power, except to render its exercise subservient to their private views. Previous character had no marked influence in determining the lot: a life of crime was no barrier to indulgence, when its price could be paid: the early career of the prisoners was generally unknown. The discipline was, indeed, often severe: lashes were administered by hundreds, and crimes or offences, were resented or forgiven, not according to rule, but circumstances. There were, however, gradations of penal banishment: as at Sydney, those separated to special punishment, were sent to Hobart Town; such as were still further implicated were forwarded to Launceston; but the dregs of all settled at George Town. What was the character of the inhabitants of that place, may be inferred from the Commissioner's Reports. Prisoners, male and female, living in skillings, the commandant disobeying the orders of his chief, inferior officers exhibiting flagrant immorality; labor compensated by the government in a currency of rum; sold by abandoned women--who were often the depositories of stolen goods passed from Hobart Town and Launceston. Such was George Town at, and for some time after, this era.
The charges against the prisoners, were such as result from slavery and debasement. All crimes, of less magnitude than murder, or burglary under aggravated circumstances, were punished in a summary manner. To prosecute, was to encounter ruin: the person despoiled, while pursuing the robber, lost the remnant of his property; and, returning to his dwelling, found it wrecked and pillaged. Mechanics, and others entitled to money, were paid in rum, and its prompt consumption was the only means to secure its enjoyment. Those who earned considerable sums, were rarely richer than their neighbours.
While Governor Collins lived, some order was maintained: it was during the rule of his successor that the British standard covered a state of society, such as never before possessed the official sanction. Once or twice a month, this Governor enjoyed a carouse, to which a sea-port, in times of war, might furnish an example. Having selected a station, not far from the town, he provided for the feast: the more talented of the convicts surrounded the tent, and enlivened the entertainment with songs. Rum, in large quantities, loaded the board: first the chiefs, and then their retainers, revelled in its overflowing abundance. The gaol gang, warned by his Honor's steward of the direction the guests had taken, sometimes followed after the jovial ruler; and when the moon arose, the Governor and his attendants, of various grades, might be seen winding home together. A number of settlers, whom he had offended, refused an invitation: when time had obliterated their resentment, he invited them again: the table was covered, and the guests were seated; but at that moment, the gaol gang, facetiously called the Governor's band, and who were posted near the spot for the purpose, burst into the chamber, and swept away all the provisions. The Governor pretended to regret this termination; but consoled himself by saying, he could "get a dinner at _Stocker's_." Such was this trustee of national justice!
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 80: At the period above mentioned, the colony was in imminent danger of perishing from famine, in consequence of the non-arrival of store ships from England. Captain Tench, in his interesting work on New South Wales, thus describes the situation and feelings of himself and his fellow settlers:--"We had now (that is, in the beginning of 1790) been two years in the country, and thirty-two months from England, in which long period no supplies, except what had been procured from the Cape of Good Hope, had reached us. Famine was approaching with gigantic strides, and gloom and dejection overspread every countenance. 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. As we had removed from Botany Bay to Port Jackson, it was judged necessary to fix a party of seamen on a high cliff called 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. Here, on the summit of a hill, did we sweep the horizon every morning from day-light until the sun sunk, in the hope of seeing a sail. At every fleeting speck which arose from the bosom of the ocean, the heart bounded, and the telescope was lifted to the eye. If a ship appeared here, we knew that she must be bound to us; for on the shore 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 civilised society. In March, vigorous measures were become necessary. The _Sirius_ was ordered to prepare for a voyage to China, but she was shortly after wrecked. On the 27th of this month, the following order was issued:--'Parole--Honor; countersign--Example. The expected supply of provisions not having yet arrived, makes it necessary to reduce the present ration, to render the mentioned allowance to every person in the settlement without distinction. Four pounds of flour, two pounds and a half of pork, and one pound and a half of rice per week.' The flour was afterwards reduced nearly one half, and the other articles in a less proportion. The pork had been salted between three and four years, and every grain of rice was a moving body. We soon left off boiling the pork, as it had become so old and dry, that it shrunk one half. We toasted it before the fire, catching the drops which fell on a slice of bread, or in a saucer of rice. The distress of the lower classes for clothes was almost equal to their other wants. 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. 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, invited a neighbour to dine with him, the invitation ran, 'bring your own bread.' Even at the Governor's table this custom was constantly observed. Every man who sat down pulled his bread out of his pocket. In May, the men became much weakened from want, and they were ordered to do only as much work as their strength would permit. Rigorous justice was executed on persons detected in robbing or pilfering. A convict detected in stealing potatoes was ordered to receive 300 lashes, to be chained for six months to two other criminals, and to have his allowance of flour stopped for six months. Further, to contribute to the detection of villany, a proclamation, offering 60 pounds of flour, more tempting than the gold of Peru, was promised to any one who should apprehend a robber of garden ground. At length the bonds of misfortune began to separate, and on the evening of June 3rd, 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 drew my attention. I opened my door, and saw 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 ran to a hill, where, by the assistance of a pocket glass, my hopes were realised. A brother officer was with me, but we could not speak; we wrang each other by the hand, with eyes and hearts overflowing. Finding 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 colors flying, working in between the heads which form the entrance to the harbour. The tumultuous state of our minds represented her in danger, and we were in agony. The weather was wet and tempestuous, but the body is delicate only when the mind 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 belly full, 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 235 of our countrywomen, whom crime or misfortune had condemned to exile. She had been about eleven months on her voyage."--_Tench's Narrative._]
[Footnote 81: _Dr. Lang's History of New South Wales._]
[Footnote 82: _Bigge's Reports._]
[Footnote 83: The decision of a magistrate was not necessary, to inflict punishment. The overseer stalked about with a military cane, and was not sparing of its use. "He would walk out behind the convict-hoers in a morning gown and morocco slippers, with a _Penang Lawyer_ hugged close under his right arm, or borne like a royal sceptre before him, plucking at every tuft as he paced about, and drumming such a tattoo upon the shoulders of the unlucky wight, whose ground was not completely chopped, and grass fairly uprooted, as made the whole brush dance with fire-flies before him!"--_Cunningham._]
[Footnote 84: "The other inhabitants of the island (Britain) still maintained themselves by pasture: they were clothed with skins of beasts; they dwelt in huts, which they reared in forests and marshes, with which the country was covered."--_Hume's History of England_, chap. i.]
[Footnote 85: "A little wicked tailor arrives, of no use to the architectural projects of the Governor: he is turned over to a settler, who leases this sartorial Borgia his liberty for five shillings a week, and allows him to steal and snip what, when, and where he can. The nefarious needleman writes home, that he is as comfortable as a finger in a thimble: that, though a fraction only of humanity, he has several wives, and is filled every day with rum and kangaroo. This, of course, is not lost upon a shop-board, and for the saving of fifteen pence a-day (to government), the foundation of many criminal tailors is laid."--_Edinburgh Review_, 1823.]
SECTION VI.
The adventurous habits of a hunting life, favored by the early necessities of the settlement, trained the prisoners to bushranging.[86] The lawless pioneers of the settlers repeated in Tasmania the exploits once common in Great Britain, when the merry green wood was the retreat of the outlaw; and always found where the population is scanty and the government feeble: the popular names of places denote the character or tastes of their early visitors and heroes.[87] The bushrangers at first were absentees, who were soon allured or driven to theft and violence; but so early as 1808, Lemon and Brown, by systematic robbery, had excited feelings of alarm: one of these men was surprised asleep, and decapitated, at Lemon Springs, which bear his name.
The severity of corporal punishment, which prevailed at that period, when no prison more secure than a stockade had been built, induced the accused to obtain a respite by retiring to the bush. Some men of milder disposition abstained from all active violations of the law, and kept aloof from offenders of a different temper. Of a sailor, who deserted to the forest, it is said that he not only refrained from robberies, but often prevented them: he had carried to his retreat a young woman whom he professed to love, and remained for three years in his seclusion. The romance of this event was, however, extinguished at the close of their exile: the man grew prosperous, abandoned his faithful companion, and married another.
Towards the close of 1813, the daring and sanguinary violence of bushrangers, reduced the colony to the utmost distress: the settlers, generally of the lowest class, received their plunder, and gave them notice of pursuit. Their alliance with stock-keepers, who themselves passed rapidly, and almost naturally, from the margin of civilised to a lawless life, was well understood: nor could they readily refuse their friendship: the government, unable to afford them protection, left them no other source of safety. The division of the colonists into those who had been convicts, and those who controlled them, naturally ranged all of loose principles on the side of the outlaws. Nor was their mode of life without attractions: they were free: their daring seemed like heroism to those in bondage. They not unfrequently professed to punish severity to the prisoners, and like Robin Hood of old, to pillage the rich, that they might be generous to the poor. The course adopted by the government indicated the strength of the robbers: despairing to reduce them by force, in 1814 Macquarie tendered pardon, except for the crime of murder, to those who, within six months, should return to their duty. To give effect to this treaty, time was judged necessary for its publication; and to allow for the hesitation of the penitent, a distant day was appointed for closing the door.
This singular document was prepared by his Majesty's judge, who was thus himself bound in honor to its unexampled conditions; but the legal acumen of the robbers soon detected the error: its effect was not only pardon for the past, but, with the exception of murder, a license to ravage the colony until the date expired. Thus, they gathered the harvest of crime, and continued their depredations to the last. Nor was another advantage foreseen, although eagerly embraced by the robbers: they almost universally submitted, and having cleared with the law, were prepared again to abscond, and risk once more the chances of the field; but if the document was absurd, the conduct of the local authorities was not less impolitic. The removal of men, so well acquainted with the colony and its hundred retreats, was an obvious, yet neglected, precaution: some were satisfied with their past experience, but others lost no time in returning to the bush.