Thus, in their harassing life, parents and children had been divided, and families had been broken up in melancholy confusion: indeed, they had ceased to be tribes, and became what they were called—mobs of natives, composed often of hereditary enemies. Infanticide and distress, rapid flight, and all the casualties of a protracted conflict, threatened them with speedy destruction. Had not Robinson appeared, the last savage, hopeless of peace or safety, would have perished with his weapon in his hand. It was a great deliverance to this colony, as well as to the native. From the Windmill-hill at Launceston, whence a wide and beautiful country is visible, the spectator could discern the site of twenty aboriginal murders—settlers, servants, and infants; the aged and the kind had fallen, as well as the base hearted and cruel. It was something to know, that the fatal hand, which no precaution could resist, would be raised no more.

It was, indeed, a mournful spectacle: the last Tasmanian quitting the shores of his ancestors: forty years before, the first settler had erected his encampment! A change so rapid in the relations of a people to the soil, will scarcely find a parallel in this world's history; but that banishment which, if originally contrived, had been an atrocious crime, was at last an act of mercy—the tardy humanity of Englishmen, which rescued a remnant, extenuated the dishonor of their cruelty to the race. As for Mr. Robinson, he enjoyed, not only the bounty of the government, but the affection of the natives—and the applause of all good men. His name will be had in everlasting remembrance: happier still, if numbered by the judge of all among his followers, who came "not to destroy men's lives, but to save them."[21]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 18: "Gentlemen," said Mr. Kemp, of Mount Vernon at the mess at the Macquarie Hotel, "you see a sample before you, of what this colony can produce, which we are now, one and all, making an unanimous effort to insure the enjoyment of in peace and comfort: if, when not only the necessaries, but many of the luxuries of life are thus bountifully supplied us, we are not loyal, we shall never be loyal. Fill your glasses, gentlemen—the health of his Excellency; and success to the volunteers. Hip, hip, hip,—hurrah!"—Courier.]

[Footnote 19: Thus, while at some stations in New Holland clergymen explained in English the principles of Christianity, the thoughts of the natives strayed to subjects more familiar, and cries of "bacca" and "sugar," disturbed the gravity of devotion.]

[Footnote 20: Throwing stick.]

[Footnote 21: It would be difficult, however, to believe Mr. Robinson was not satirical, when he wrote as follows;—

"The system adopted toward the aborigines of this territory is quite original. History does not furnish an instance, where a whole nation has been removed by so MILD AND HUMANE A POLICY!"—Report H. Commons—Aborigines, 1835.]



SECTION VIII.

During the progress of these captures, the question of future disposal was slowly determined. Those lodged on Gun Carriage Island, through injudicious restraint or want of pure water, or melancholy, rapidly decreased. The government was bound to seek for them a more salubrious prison, or to restore them to the main land: an event, which would have ensured their immediate destruction. Maria Island, recommended both by Mr. Robinson and Mr. Bedford, was desirable, as contiguous; but nothing could prevent an escape to the colony. Kent's Group, on the coast of New Holland, was next proposed; but the passage is difficult, and between the islands, said the sailor witness, "the sea pours like a sluice, and the winds drive through like a funnel." Then came King's Island, situated 140 miles north of Van Diemen's Land; but it was said to be infested with badgers and bandicoots, and that the natives would retire into the woods, and be no more found. Such was the extent of official knowledge, in reference to these dependencies, that to select a spot it was necessary to appoint a special survey; but although the natives were fast dying, the vessel destined to this service was first sent for a cargo of timber!

Captain Jackson having visited the Straits, recommended Flinders', sometimes called Great Island. The aborigines who joined in this visit, were delighted with the country: they returned to their companions with the spoils of hunting, and celebrated their good fortune in songs. A soldier, who accompanied the party, wholly differed from this report: he said the climate was bleak, the soil sterile, and destitute of springs; and his objections, though attributed to malice, have been confirmed by experience. After much deliberation, Flinders' Island was preferred.

The Chief Justice, Sir John Pedder, opposed the removal altogether: too truly he judged, it would be followed by rapid extinction. In denying to the aboriginal remnant an asylum within the country of their forefathers, we inflicted the last penalty which can fall on a race, whose lives the victors condescend to spare. It was too late, however, to repent; and pioneers were forwarded to the place of exile. The usual fatality attended the first choice of a township, but in 1832 Mr. Backhouse, at Colonel Arthur's request, proceeded to Flinders', where the station was finally chosen; it was called, Wybalenna,—the "Black Man's Village." The natives were under disguised military control, but were exceedingly docile and submissive. Cottages were erected for their use. The women found some amusement in sweeping their houses, and depositing or replacing the articles of their furniture—their beds, bedsteads, tables, and stools: they washed the garments of their husbands; who, when they had occasion to complain, threatened to work for themselves. They had seen the wives of the soldiers washing, and inferred that this exercise was the special privilege of women.

The acting commandant, in 1832, reported them as in the highest health and spirits, full of intelligence, advancing step by step towards civilisation: so they were described, and such was their aspect. They were furnished with every article of domestic use, far more numerous than usually fall to the lot of the English cottager, and which, to an Irish peasant, would suggest the idea of shopkeeping: the men, dressed in duck clothing and Scotch caps, voluntarily appeared with the soldiers, and presented their necessaries for inspection.

A large group watched the landing of Mr. Backhouse in silence; but when invited, they rose up and shook hands; and when told that provisions had arrived, they set up shouts of joy: they wore clothing, except in their dances, which they held thrice a-week, after sun set; they exhibited much cheerfulness, affability, and mutual kindness, and no great deficiency of either physical or intellectual power.

The system pursued by Mr. Robinson at Flinders', is minutely described in papers published by the House of Commons. The establishment of—

1. An aboriginal fund. 2. A circulating medium. 3. An aboriginal police. 4. A weekly market: and 5. A weekly periodical.

The first four of these measures succeeded: the periodical was not successful! but Mr. Robinson established a respectable currency: he made the natives purchase all articles except food; and once, when the supply of tobacco was scanty, it rose to the price of 32s. per lb.! They were too prone to dilapidate and destroy their dwellings; they were therefore required to pay for the locks, cupboards, and doors. They were instructed in the Christian religion, and displayed considerable aptitude; but of some, it is remarked, that they were inattentive to learning, and fond of the chase!

The civil and religious administration of Flinders' Island has been often changed, and subject to factions and disputes. The stories which float in the colony, respecting the little empire of Wybalenna, are grotesque and humorous. No modern author will venture to look into the abyss of despatches, which develop its policy. To arrive at the truth would require an amount of labour, perhaps not beyond its intrinsic worth, but involving large discussions and questions not without peril. Mr. Backhouse, before leaving the colony, renewed his visit as the envoy of the government, to heal divisions which had broken out with virulence between the ecclesiastical and civil powers. He observes, that they principally resulted from misunderstandings, and with this caution we resign them to the curious of some other age. It may, however, be satisfactory to know, that in the order of succession, Messrs. Darling, Robinson, Drs. Jeannerett and Milligan, have been commandants, and that Mr. Wilkinson, Rev. Mr. Dove, and Mr. Clark, have filled the office of chaplain.

The religious manifestations of the aborigines are differently estimated by different minds: by some, considered purely mechanical and imitative; by others, as the simple expressions of a genuine piety. The evidence of their worth, would depend greatly on accompanying moral developments. The piety of a proselyted heathen is like that of a child, more in sensibility than concatenated dogmata: they repeated a creed, only partially understood; but they also became conscious of a Superior Power, and a nobler destiny. The highly intelligent appreciation of religious knowledge, attributed by their guardians, did not appear to the casual visitor; and was probably, unconsciously, coloured. It does not pertain to this work to examine the evidence of their personal religion, which, however, sometimes had a conservative influence in life, and to several yielded consolation in their last hours.

In 1835, Mr. Robinson entered on his office as commandant: believing that his mission was accomplished, he gathered the people together, and made a feast, in which they were to forget the animosities of their tribes, and join as one family. Scarcely was this union effected, when the occupation of Port Phillip drew attention to the aborigines of New Holland. Mr. Wedge, who visited that country, made known to the government the barbarity of the monstrous whites; who, so soon as they touched those shores, wantonly stained their hands with native blood. To that gentleman we owe our ability to trace to its origin, an extermination which has kept pace with the colonisation of that region.

Mr. Robinson proposed to remove the natives of Tasmania, then eighty-two persons, to Port Phillip. It was expected that their presence would excite the curiosity, and stimulate the civilisation of the New Hollanders; that possession of a flock, then 1,300 in number, would give useful ideas of the bounty of their benefactors. It had been thought desirable to reward the aboriginal guides, and one hundred ewes and three rams were forwarded to the establishment, to be distributed among them: a large addition was made by private benevolence. The increase of their flock, became a source of temporary profit to the natives: the wool was brought to Launceston, and exchanged for haberdashery, and other articles of domestic use.

The British government, after much hesitation, fearful of its consequences to the Tasmanians, consented to their removal. In 1838, Mr. Robinson received the appointment of Chief Protector to the Aborigines of New Holland: the nature or the utility of that office, does not belong to this work to discuss. By treaty with Sir George Gipps, the government of Van Diemen's Land agreed to pay a sum annually for each ten who might survive. The deportation was sanctioned by the blacks themselves: the certificate, which bears their signatures, might be supposed to represent a congress of heroes, or the pack of a huntsman—names, which are chiefly borne by dogs and princes.[22] They were anxious for the change, but quite incapable of estimating its results. A party of twenty-two therefore accompanied Mr. Robinson, but the issue was disastrous: called away by the duties of his office, he could not extend to them a proper supervision: they were again exposed, in another land, to their old adversaries and seducers, the stock-keepers: they were too few to form a village, and death thinned their numbers: two returned to Van Diemen's Land, and afterwards to Flinders'. Of the rest, two were executed for murder. Mr. Batman had in his house at Port Phillip, a native woman and two boys; but the New Hollanders were rather the objects of aversion than sympathy: and, fearful of their violence, the Tasmanians avoided their company, and showed no disposition to forsake their protector.

During the whole period of their residence at Flinders' Island, it does not appear that any white man on the station, or even of their own colour, had preferred a criminal charge against one of them. The commandant, as magistrate, possessed a summary jurisdiction; and the restrictions in his court he could supplement with the forms and ensignia of power. A late commandant, when he sentenced to small penalties for petty offences, sat at night; and to impress their imaginations, the hall of justice was guarded with drawn swords.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 22: Achilles, Ajax, Buonaparte, King George, Hannibal, Peter Pindar, Neptune, Tippoo Saib, Washington. A few only bore the names of ordinary mortals.]



SECTION IX.

The advances towards the final extinction of the natives, have been more rapid than was expected; but the certainty of that event was never the subject of doubt. Sir George Murray, on the 5th November, 1830, anticipated, and wrote down their fate; and inferred, from their decrease, that at no distant period the whole race would become extinct: but he declared that the adoption of any course of conduct, with this design, either avowed or secret, would leave an indelible stain upon the government of Great Britain! It will be seen, however, that the progress of decay was never arrested for a moment. The mortality at Brune and Swan Islands was not less than at Flinders'; but from 1832, a regular account has been preserved.[23]

Of the forty-five landed at Oyster Cove, in 1847, thirteen were men, twenty-two women, and ten children. Such has been the progress of their decline, and with numbers so inconsiderable, the problem of their fate is solved.

The original amount of the natives has been a question much debated: like a procession in a circle, a population in motion, when not personally distinguished, will appear more numerous than the actual census. Mr. Kelly, who often had passed the coasts, calculated them at, originally, 7,000, but he guessed their number to be 5,000 in 1830: the obvious error of the last estimate, would naturally suggest a doubt with reference to the former. Several hundreds were, however, seen in one assembly, within the last thirty years. At Hobart Town and Launceston, from one to two hundred have appeared together. It was their custom to distribute themselves in parties, of from forty to fifty each. Their fires, kindled on the sea shore, were often left burning, when they had moved on to the next stage; and those who saw the flames from ship-board, concluded that aborigines were lying around them, and thus telling their numbers by the fires, they were often greatly deceived. The rapidity of their movements led to the same mistake: they appeared at places sufficient to establish an alibi, according to the current measures of distance. They had innumerable paths which shorten a journey, then unknown to the English: it was thus, that they were twice reckoned, even when carefully counted. No reliance, however, will be placed by persons of experience on the rumour of numbers. Nearly all who report an assembly, judge by imagination rather than minute inspection; thus, mobs are spoken of as tens or hundreds of thousands, without any intention to mislead. It will be the hope of the humane, that the lowest estimate is the true one: it can hardly be doubted, however, that they were originally from 4,000 to 5,000: they were estimated by Mr. Robinson at 700, when he commenced his mission; 203 were captured—many, in the mean time, fell by unknown violence and perpetual persecution: a thousand muskets were charged for their destruction.

The causes of their diminution in Tasmania have been already stated; but some of these continued their operation even after the capture: their natural consequences followed. Towards the last days of their savage life, the sexes were disproportionate, although the balance was partly restored by associating the women who had been longer in captivity, with the men whose wives had died; but many of these women had become licentious, and by an extraordinary oversight the government permitted unmarried convicts and others to have them in charge, or to assist in the preliminary labor of their establishment: the result need not be told. The infant children had perished, by the misery or contrivance of their parents: thus in 1838, of eighty-two there were only fourteen children, and of the remainder, eight had attained the usual term of human life: many who surrendered, were exhausted by sickness, fatigue, and decripitude. They were the worn out relics of their nation, and they came in to lie down and die.

The assumption of clothing occasioned many deaths: they were sometimes drenched with rain—perspiration was repressed, and inflammatory diseases followed: the licentiousness, and occasional want of the few last years, generated disorders, which a cold brought to a crisis. Among savages, the blanket has sometimes slain more than the sword: it destroyed the Indian of North America, and even threatened the New Zealander with a similar fate.[24] The abundant supply of food, and which followed destitution, tended to the same result: it was a different diet. The habits of the chase were superseded, and perhaps discouraged: the violent action to which they had been accustomed; the dancing, shouting, hurling the waddy and the spear—climbing for the opossum—diving, and leaping from rock to rock—assisted the animal functions, and developed muscular power. To continue them required the occasion, as well as the permission; but the stimulus was gone.

It is said, by writers not favorable to the establishment at Flinders', that attempts to force the customs and habits of a civilised people were unreasonably, and even ridiculously severe. However docile the blacks, and generous the intention of their teachers, the physical effects of a total change in the habits of a race are not to be disputed, or that what may be harmless when the result of choice, and founded on new mental and physical stimulants, is dangerous when the mind is vacant, and the objects of civilised exertion unappreciated. Perhaps, no one is blameable. In their social circumstances, we may indeed trace the occasion of decay, but they were no longer produced by cruelty.

There were, other causes. The site of the settlement was unhealthy: they were often destitute of good water; the tanks preserved an insufficient supply. It is admitted that they frequently suffered this lack; but it is stated, that they had sufficient allowed them when sick!

It is, however, clear, that many perished by that strange disease, so often fatal to the soldiers and peasants of Switzerland, who die in foreign lands from regret of their native country. They were within sight of Tasmania, and as they beheld its not distant but forbidden shore, they were often deeply melancholy: to this point the testimony of Mr. Robinson is decisive, though not solitary.[25] They suffered much from mental irritation: when taken with disease, they often refused sustenance, and died in delirium. The wife, or the husband in perfect health, when bereaved, would immediately sicken, and rapidly pine away.[26]

Count Strzelecki has propounded a curious notion of the laws of extinction, in reference to this race. He states that the mother of a half-caste can never produce a black child, and thus the race dies. His statement would need the most positive and uniform testimony; but it may be added to the curiosities of literature. The decrease of population among the inferior race, when harassed or licentious, is certain; but surely there is nothing occult in this, or requiring further explanation than is afforded by human cruelty and vice.

Among those who survive, is the wife of the native Walter George Arthur, the half-caste daughter of Sarah an aboriginal woman. [Looking lately at a picture of Don Quixote, she pointed him out as the man who fought with the windmill.] Her mother has a younger son, now or lately at the Queen's School, and of pure aboriginal blood. A natural law, by which the extinction of a race is predicted, will not admit of such serious deviations.

In 1844, a Finance Committee of the Legislative Council proposed the restoration of the natives to this colony. The frequent reference to head-quarters by the officers in charge, perplexed the government; who alleged that the distance permitted the oppression of the natives, and exposed them to the caprice of their guardians. The measure was delayed for four years; but in 1847, the dismissal of the commandant revived the project, and in October of that year they were landed in Van Diemen's Land, and located at Oyster Bay, once a great station of their people. The removal was unacceptable to the colonists; the outrages of former years were remembered by many, as scenes of domestic mourning. No murmur had ever been heard at the cost of their safety: it was deemed a small atonement for a national wrong: nor will it be possible to state an expenditure which the colonial public would be unwilling to sustain—to smooth the last hours of this unfortunate race. The transfer of a part to Port Phillip, had been attended with fatal consequences to several, and had ended in murder and executions: it was feared that the vicinity of their former haunts might revive their habits of wandering, and once more expose them to those gangs of felons who set no value on aboriginal life. These sentiments led to a spirited remonstrance, in which many respectable settlers concurred: the government had not anticipated opposition, or it may be presumed that a statement of the actual condition of the natives, and the provision intended for their safety, would have preceded this change in their abode. The dark shadows of former years threw doubt on their present character: happily, however, these impressions were erroneous.

The few who remain, are not likely to forsake the comforts of their home: belonging to various tribes and different dialects, particular districts do not present equal attractions to all. They have learned also to rear vegetables, and the greater number are said to be familiar with English customs. By the census, they are assigned to the Church of England; but the distinctions of theology are beyond their comprehension, and therefore their choice; and it is perhaps to be lamented, that from the period of their capture, they have not been placed entirely under the parental care of some religious communion. Those who think lightly of missionary institutions, will find here no ground for exultation in the disastrous surveillance of the civil government.

Englishmen, of whatever rank, cannot fail to survey the aboriginal youth, less in number than many a colonial household, with deep solicitude; or when estimating their claims, to remember the fortunes of their fathers. Or should their helplessness and dependence ever tempt a ruler to expose them to the corrupting influence of the lowest examples, and to assign them the meanest education, he may be recovered to some sense of justice by the following confession of a distinguished predecessor:—

"Undoubtedly, the being reduced to the necessity of driving a simple but warlike, and, as IT NOW APPEARS, NOBLE MINDED RACE, from their native hunting grounds, is a measure in itself so distressing, that I am willing to make almost any prudent sacrifice that may tend to compensate for the injuries that government is unwillingly and unavoidably the instrument of inflicting."—GEORGE ARTHUR.[27]

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 23:

- - - + Date. Captured. Died. Escaped. + - - - 1831 54 1832 68 5 1833 42 40 3 1834 20 14 1835 17 14 - - + 201 73 3 + - - -

The numbers were— In 1836 In 1838 In 1847 —— —— —— 123 82 45]

[Footnote 24: The Bishop of New Zealand has wisely protested against the blanketing process of depopulation. The ignorant natives, accustomed to lie down in their damp huts, were steamed into consumptions.]

[Footnote 25: "They pine away: more than one half have died, not from any positive disease, but from a disease they (physicians) call home sickness;'—a disease which is common to some Europeans, particularly the Swiss soldiers. They die from a disease of the stomach, which comes on entirely from a desire to return to their own country."—Evidence of Col. Surgeon Barnes: Par. Papers.]

[Footnote 26: The subjoined abbreviated list may give an idea of the rapid decline:—

Commandant's Office, Flinders' Island.

1836— DEATHS:

December 24.—The native youth, George. 30.—The native man, Nimrod. 1837— January 28.—The native man, Columbus. 29.—The native woman, Pupedar. February 5.—Of acute pneumonia, the native man Samuel. 20.—Of chronic visceral inflammation, the native man, Algernon. 25.—Of the same, the native man, Matthew. 26.—Of the same, native man, Omega. 29.—Of the same, native woman, Truedeberrie. March 16.—The native woman, Tyree. 21.—The native woman, Queen Charlotte. 30.—The native woman, Manoon, ditto Maria, and an infant.

J. ALLEN, Surgeon.

June 3.—Of extreme debility, Daniel. 20.—Of inflammation in the intestines, the aboriginal native, King William.

A. AUSTIN, Medical Attendant.

—Parliamentary Papers.]



SECTION X.

Origin.—The traditions of the natives afford no clue to their origin. They are, perhaps, a branch of the Australasian family settled in New Holland(?). Mocha, is the name for water among the western tribe of this island: it is known by the same sound at Cape Leeuwin, on the continent. Though boats were not employed, they constructed a catamaran of bark, or decayed wood, of the specific gravity of cork: these materials, tied together, enabled them to pass to the islands of the Straits.

Lieutenant Gunn found at Maria Island, and preserved for several months, a catamaran, sufficiently tight and strong to drift for sixteen or twenty miles: each would convey from four to seven persons. The catamaran described by the French naturalist, found in Adventure Bay, was made of pieces of bark, and held together by cords made of grass, and assumed the appearance of meshes worked in the form of a pentagon. Mr. Taw, the pilot of Macquarie Harbour, saw the natives cross the river: on this occasion, a man swam on either side of the raft—formed of the bark of the "swamp tree." The distance between the islets is not sufficient to shut us up to the notion of a local creation.[28] A New Holland woman, taken to Flinders', remembered a tradition, that her ancestors had driven out the original inhabitants—the fathers, it is conjectured, of the Tasmanian race. History carries us back to the year 1642, and it is in vain to seek authentic information from a people destitute of records, and perpetually wandering. The time between the first visit and colonisation, was quite sufficient to obliterate the traces of earlier migrations.

Consanguinity.—A comparison of the Tasmanian with the European, would discredit a common root; but the wide spread family of man exhibits all the shades and varieties, by which the extremes are connected. Strzelecki observes, that to account for this connection, is not less vainly attempted than an explanation of the existence of marsupials: but the cases are not comparable. The difficulty, in reference to the human race, is resolved by its intermixture: nature mingles none but kindred blood.

Stature.—The man of Tasmania, is from four and a-half to five and a-half feet high. The skin is blueish black; less glossy than the native of the continent. The facial angle is from 73 deg. to 85 deg.. The features of the women are masculine: the mammae become pyriform, and elongate in nursing. The hair is black, and woolly; sometimes luxuriant, occasionally long and glossy. The eyes are full: the eyelid dropping: the iris dark brown: the pupil large, and jet black. The forehead is high, narrow, and running to a peak: the malar bones are prominent, the cheeks hollow, the breast arched and full: the limbs round, lean, and muscular: the hands small; the feet flat, and turned inwards. The frame does not differ from the common structure of man, and by science is not pronounced inferior, according to the rules of phrenologists.[29]

General Appearance.—The impression made upon spectators by the Tasmanian race, has been curiously various. By some, they are said to be the lowest in their physical organisation, their mental capacity, and their social condition. Those who saw them at the same period, and compared them with the inhabitants of Port Jackson, differed entirely in their estimate. In the aged women, there was little to admire: of them, even Mr. Backhouse speaks with unwonted emotion: they reminded him of the ourang outang; they were hideous! but he thought the younger women more agreeable. Another visitor in 1830 describes them as having small hollow eyes, broad noses, nostrils widely distended; jaws like the ourang outang; thin limbs; shapeless bodies; and a hideous expression of countenance! Cook described them as having lips not remarkably thick; their noses moderately flat. Labillardiere noticed a peculiar projection in the upper jaw of children, which recedes in adult age. They certainly do not correspond with our notions of beauty, but they are not inferior to millions of the human race. Among the captives, were some whose stature and port strongly impressed the spectator. Backhouse observed one especially, whose features had a Jewish cast, and reminded him of the popular pictures of Abraham! Their thin and wretched appearance, occasioned by their diet, and diseases, cannot be properly attributed to their constitution. Half starved human beings, unclothed, are ever unpleasing. Those acquainted with populous cities in Europe, have often been compelled to recognise, in the squalor and emaciation of classes, the germs of a new race. The captive blacks, when partially clothed, relieved from anxiety, and supplied with food, soon presented a new aspect; and their countenances were lighted up with cheerfulness and intelligence.

Families.—Polygamy was tolerated: women were, latterly, bigamists. Labillardiere observed that one man had two wives: this philosopher was held in suspense, on the comparative happiness of their condition; true, the affections of the husband were divided—but they jointly catered for one man instead of two! It is said that they courted with flowers: an authenticated fact, proves that the female occasionally possessed a negative. Roomata (Bet) rejected the addresses of Trigoonipoonata (Jack); but she learned the worth of his affection. She was crossing a river, and became ill: he sprung to her relief, and carried her safely to land; and she became his wife.[30] They daily brought game to the residence of the superintendent, during his temporary absence—lest, said they, he should want on his return. The woman having been left behind, on recovery followed the tribe with the new born infant. The toil of the journey, and of the encampment, chiefly fell to her lot: she carried utensils of all kinds, except the spears. The infant was slung on the back, and suckled over the shoulder: a draftsman, in the company of Cook, drew the portrait of a young female, so burdened. The position of the child has been pronounced, without much reason, a proof of low maternal sensibility. Those who have carried children through a journey, can only imagine the amount of affection requisite to convey, often more than one, after a tribe in its rapid migrations.

Infanticide.—Infanticide was not common; although, in the latter days, when harassed by daily conflict, the practice, was not unknown. It is stated by Leigh, that they were careful not to increase in number, and that they sold their female children. At a later period, it is said, that to suckle puppies they abandoned their offspring. Such facts are not incredible, when they relate to individuals, but are scarcely characteristic of a race: all nations have perpetrated infanticide, from necessity, or pride, or barbarism. Infant life is little valued among savages, and female children least: they run the gauntlet of a thousand perils. Fewer were born than among settled people, and more died in infancy.

Uncivilised man is ever harsh in his treatment of woman. The natives of this country were less imperious than those of Port Jackson, where the blows of the waddy solemnised matrimony. Beside the burden of travel, they chiefly hunted the opossum, and mounted the lofty trees of the Tasmanian forest. When the man condescended to give part of his spoil, he handed over his shoulder the least delectable pieces to his wife, who sat at his back. Often, however, this indulgence was refused. Mr. Horton records an instance of unkindness, perhaps not general, nor very uncommon: it was noon; the mother, her infant, and little boy, had been without food all day: the father refused any part of that he had provided. Another of the tribe, however, was more generous: when he handed the woman a portion, at Mr. Horton's request, before she tasted any herself, she fed her child.

They were often misunderstood; but they were sensible of domestic affections: the tribes were scattered by the last war—some were captives, others fugitives: eleven were already lodged at Richmond, when Mr. Gilbert Robertson brought up two others, a man and woman: they were recognised from afar by the party first taken; these raised the cry of welcome; it was a family meeting, and deeply moved the spectators. The parents embraced their children with rapture, and many tears.

Under an engraving of a Van Diemen's Land woman and child, from a painting by J. Webber, the Journal of Civilisation ventures the following:—"Contemplate the appalling picture! see her, in fact, without maternal affection! To such a mother, it would matter little to see her babe fall from her back and perish!" The woman of Van Diemen's Land, by the French artist, is most lively and maternal: her child is leaning over her head, its feet resting on her shoulders: she looks up towards it, with a strong expression of affection. Labillardiere repeatedly remarks the tenderness of the women to their children, as "very engaging." He also had a theory: but why suppose a black woman below a tigress, in the scale of maternity. The law of nature, deadened by circumstances, but which is even strong in the brute, was not inactive in their hearts. In every country, it is individually variable.

There is a grave in a garden at Ben Lomond: Mr. Batman, the morning after its little tenant was deposited, walked up to the spot; but although he went at sunrise, one person was earlier: a Tasmanian woman; who sat by the grave, and wept. It was the mother.

Half-caste.—The half-caste children were oftener destroyed. A woman, who had immolated an infant of mixed origin, excused herself by saying it was not a pretty baby; this was, however, far from universal, and more commonly the act of the tribe than of the mother. A native woman, who had an infant of this class, fell accidentally into the hands of her tribe: they tore the child from her arms, and threw it into the flames. The mother instantly snatched it from death, and quick as lightning dashed into the bush; where she concealed herself, until she made her escape. The injuries she received were, however, fatal. An elder daughter, called Miss Dalrymple, was the first half-caste child born in the colony: she was remarkably prepossessing: her eyes black, her skin copper-colored, her cheeks rosy, and her limbs admirably modelled: she was adopted by a settler.

A considerable number of such children grew up in the island; but they were neglected by their parents, and often inherited the vices or barbarism of both. The females were early debased, and presented spectacles of nakedness and misery. When the Orphan School was formed, a few children were admitted at the government charge; of these, a fragment survive.

A half-caste couple were married recently at Launceston: the expression of their countenances was extremely pleasing. They had been sent up from the Straits to obtain a legal sanction to their union, and they went through the ceremony with much sensibility. There is a register in St. John's Church, Launceston, of the marriage of an aboriginal pair in 1829; the first ever celebrated in the face of the church.

Tribes.—Their tribes were distinct: they were known as the Oyster Bay, the Big River, the Stony Creek, and the Western. There were smaller sub-divisions; but those enumerated were divided by dialects, and well-established boundaries. Their chiefs were merely heads of families, and distinguished by their strength or cunning: they were thought to possess very trifling and uncertain control. It is said, that a notorious bushranger (Howe) fell in with a tribe: he assisted his companions in lifting a boat, but as he appeared in command, the chief checked him for lowering his dignity—a sovereign instinct, which shews the heart of a true prince. When the chiefs accompanied white men in their sports, and were requested to carry their spoil, they often manifested disdain and reluctance. Little is known of their policy, and probably there was but little to be known. The natives lived in harmony with each other, or when they quarrelled they decided by the weight of their waddies, and the thickness of their skulls. The aggressions of other tribes were punished by reprisals, but they rarely pursued a foe. Offences among themselves were treated according to their supposed enormity: the culprit had to stand while a certain number of spears were thrown at him. By this ordeal he was cleared, and the keenness of his eye and the agility of his motions, usually enabled him to escape a fatal wound. Faults, of slighter consequence, were punished without damage: the transgressor was set on the branch of a tree, and had to endure the mockery of the by-standers. It may be gratifying to discover such an example, in favor of the pillory!

Huts.—Their locomotion was predetermined, and their encampments regularly chosen; generally on the banks of a river or a lagoon. Each family had its fire; hunted separately, and erected a hut for its own accommodation. On the mountains, and beside the sea shore, they lodged in caverns; or where these were not found, as in the open country, they reared huts, or rather screens: these were of bark, half-circular, gathered at the top, and supported by stakes: in the front they kindled a fire. These huts formed rude villages, and were seen from seventeen to forty together. The former number being raised by a tribe of seventy, from four to five must have lodged under one shelter. Some, found at the westward, were permanent: they were like bee-hives, and thatched: several such were seen by Jorgenson, on the western shore—strong, and apparently erected for long use. They drew water for the sick in shells: the robust threw themselves on the bank, and drank as they lay. Boiled water was not used in their primitive state; it is said to have been unknown. This is scarcely credible: a heated shell or stone, filled by rain water, might have discovered the secret. They preserved their fire, usually by carrying a brand; if this was extinguished, they replaced it by going back to their last encampment, where the fuel still smouldered. It is said, that they were not ignorant of producing fire by friction.

Food.—Their appetite was voracious: a woman was watched one day, during which, beside a double ration of bread, she devoured more than fifty eggs, as large as those of a duck. Mr. O'Connor saw a child, eight years old, eat a kangaroo rat, and attack a cray-fish. The game they cast into the fire, and when singed drew it out and extracted the entrails; it was then returned to the embers, and when thoroughly warmed, the process was completed. They were acquainted with the common expedient of savage nations, who pass from repletion to hunger: they tightened a girdle of kangaroo skin, which they wore when otherwise naked. Fat they detested; some tribes also rejected the male, and others the female wallaby, as food: the cause is unknown. A few vegetable productions, as the native potato, and a fungus, which forces up the ground, called native bread, and which tastes like cold boiled rice; the fern and grass-tree, also yielded them food. White caterpillars and ant eggs, and several other productions, supplemented their ordinary diet. The animals on which they subsisted chiefly, were the emu, kangaroo, wallaby, and the opossum: the latter living in trees. They obtained a liquor from the cyder tree (eucalyptus), which grows on the Shannon, and elsewhere: it is tapped like the maple; its juice, of the taste of molasses, trickled down into a hole at the foot of the tree, and was covered with a stone. By a natural fermentation, it became slightly intoxicating; and in early days was liked by the stockmen.

During the winter, the natives visited the sea shore: they disappeared from the settled districts about June, and returned in October. The women were accustomed to dive for shell fish, which they placed in a rude basket, tied round the waist. On these marine stations (as at Pieman's River on the west coast), their huts were constructed with more care. Heaps of oyster shells, which seem to be the accumulation of ages, still attest their dependence on the abundance of the sea.

Dress and Ornaments.—In summer, they were entirely naked: in the winter, they protected the shoulders and the waist by a dried skin of kangaroo. The women wore the same, with the addition of ruffles. The dress of Europeans greatly distressed them: they endured it no longer than their visit; yet they were sensible of cold, and could bear less exposure to the weather than Englishmen. They sat close to their fires; and, during days of rain, continued under shelter. The men wore, on the head, grease mixed with ochre—a sort of plumbago, found at the Hampshire Hills: it was used partly for ornament, and partly as a substitute for cleanliness. Bits of wood, feathers, flowers, and kangaroo teeth, were inserted in the hair, which was separated into tufts, rolled and matted together. This decoration was denied the women: their hair was cropped close, with sharp crystal; some on the one side of the head only, in others like the tonsure of the priest. They were accustomed to ornament the body by several methods, differing perhaps with different tribes. Patches of ochre and grease formed a considerable portion of their adornment. With a shining mineral they drew symmetrical lines on the neck, shoulders and face, and various parts of the body; in some cases they resembled epaulettes, in others they imitated the eye: they also made incisions, which they kept open by grease, till the skin was raised, and the process complete: the torment they endured with great fortitude, and affected indifference. Penderome, the brother of a western chief, underwent this operation, which was performed by a woman with broken glass. The flesh of his shoulder opened like crimped fish; but he interrupted the process by antics and laughter. They wore a necklace called merrina; it was principally composed of pearly blue shells, bored by the eye tooth, and strung on the sinews of kangaroo. These shells were cleansed by the acid of wood steam, and received a high polish.

Arms and Implements.—Their utensils and weapons were simple: the baskets, formed of grass, described by Furneaux, were not afterwards improved, but they answered the end. The waddy was a short piece of wood, reduced and notched towards the grasp, and slightly rounded at the point. The spear, nine or ten feet long, was pointed at the larger end, straightened by the teeth, and balanced with great nicety. The spearman, while poising the weapon, held others in his left hand, prepared for instant use: the spear, thus poised, seemed for a few seconds to spin, and it would strike at sixty yards, with an unerring aim. Labillardiere describes it well: the warrior grasped it in the middle; raised it as high as his head; drew it towards himself with a jerk, that gave a tremulous motion at the extremities, which accelerated its progress, and tended to support it longer on the column of air; it was darted at 100 paces, and remained in a horizontal position for three-fourths of the distance. The children were early trained to the exercise: Lieutenant Breton saw a child, five years old, throw a stick through the ring affixed to the wall of the gaol, with great precision.

A chief, confined in Hobart Town gaol, taken on the Shannon, exhibited these feats of quickness and strength. He would spring up into the air five feet, and reel round and round, with uncommon rapidity. He threw a broomstick, at twelve yards distance, through a hole in the sentry box, of but little larger diameter; and a lath, cast at thirty yards, pierced a hat through and through. They used no throwing stick, or sling.

In the estimation of Europeans, their practice in war was savage and cowardly: "they do not, like an Englishman," complained a colonial writer, "give notice before they strike." The perfection of war, in their esteem, was ambush and surprise; but an intelligent observer sometimes saw considerable cleverness in their tactics. Mr. Franks was on horseback, driving cattle homeward: he saw eight blacks forming a line behind him, to prevent his retreat; each with an uplifted spear, besides a bundle in the left hand. They then dropped on one knee, still holding the weapon in menace; then they rose and ran towards him in exact order: while they distracted his attention by their evolutions, other blacks gathered from all quarters, and within thirty yards a savage stood with his spear quivering in the air. This weapon, ten feet long, penetrated the flap of the saddle, and the flesh of the horse four inches, which dropped on his hind quarters. The rider was in despair; but the spear fell, and the animal recovered his feet and fled. The servant, less fortunate than his master, was found some days after, slain. The attack was well planned, and exhibited all the elements of military science!

A tribe, who attacked the premises of Mr. Jones, in 1819, at the Macquarie, were led by a chief six feet high: he carried one spear, of a peculiar form, and no other kind of weapon: this he did not use, but stood aloof from the rest, and issued his orders with great calmness, which were implicitly obeyed. They formed themselves in a "half moon ring," and attacked the English with great vigour. The chief was shot: they were struck with dismay, and endeavoured to make him stand; "they made a frightful noise, looked up to heaven, and smote their breasts!"[31]

The wars among them latterly, provoked by driving one tribe on the boundaries of another, were not infrequent; as everywhere, women were the cause and object of strife. The tribes to the westward were the finer race: those from South Cape to Cape Grim, had better huts, and they wore mocassins on travel. Those on the east of the Launceston road were confederate: towards the last, the Oyster Bay tribe committed their children to the care of the Big River tribe, many of whom had been slain by the western tribes, as well as by the English. It was this which increased the difficulties of their conciliation: they had not only to be reconciled to the English, but to each other. They were bold and warlike in their carriage, and when exhibiting spear exercise, commanded the admiration of the spectator.

Agility and Dexterity.—Their skill was chiefly exerted in obtaining their food: they were agile and dextrous. The opossum was hunted by the women, who by a glance discovered if the animal were to be found in the tree. They ascended trees of a tremendous height: they first threw round the trunk a rope, twice its girth, which they held in the centre, and by the left end, in one hand: having cut the first notch for the toe, they raised themselves up by the rope, in an attitude sufficiently perpendicular to carry the hatchet or stone on the head. They then cut a second, and by a jerk of the bight of the rope, raised it up: thus, step by step, they reached the branch, over which the loose end of the rope being cast, they were enabled to draw themselves round. It is stated by Backhouse, that they only required these notches at the bottom of the tree; and they dispensed with them as the bark became smooth, and the diameter diminished. They ascended almost as rapidly as with a ladder, and came down more quickly. When the ropes were of skin, or more perishable materials, the accidents must have been many and terrible. This feat required considerable muscular strength, and in the weak produced great physical exhaustion. They were swift of foot: when they possessed dogs, they ran nearly abreast of them; stimulated them by imitating the cry of the kangaroo, and were generally in at the death. Their former practice was to fire the brush-wood, in which the game had sought shelter, and which they speared when driven out by the flames. This practice was wasteful; besides exposing them to the charge of arson, when they were only following the customs of the chase.

Their ability to conceal themselves, assisted by their color, proved the quickness of their eye, and the agility of their limbs. A shooting party approached a native camp near the Clyde, and found they had just abandoned their half-cooked opossums and their spears: excepting a small group of wattle bushes, at the distance of ten yards, the ground was free of all but the lofty trees: the travellers immediately scoured this thicket, but on turning round they, in great astonishment, discovered that opossums and spears were all gone. It was the work of a moment, but traces of aborigines were unseen.[32]

Corrobories and Dances.—Their general assemblies were attended by great numbers: at these meetings they raised large fires, and continued dancing till midnight. They first began their movement round the pyre, with slow steps and soft tunes: as they advanced more quickly, their voices became more sharp and loud: they closed in upon the fire, and leaping close to the flame appeared in considerable peril. These movements they continued; shrieking and whooping until thoroughly exhausted. It is hardly possible for the imagination to picture a scene more infernal.

A gentleman, on guard during the black war, watched a small group in the gaol yard round their night fires. One of them raised his hands, and moved them slowly in a horizontal direction; and spreading, as if forming an imaginary fan or quarter-circle: he turned his head from side to side, raising one eye to the sky, where an eagle hawk was soaring. The action was accompanied by words, repeated with unusual emotion: at length they all rose up together, and uttered loud cries. The whole action had the appearance of an incantation.

The dances were various. The emu dance, was intended to represent the motions of that bird: the horse dance, necessarily modern, was performed by their trotting after each other, in a stooping posture, and holding the foremost by the loins: the thunder-and-lightning dance was merely stamping the ground. Their amusements were childish, and boisterous; but they applauded themselves with the invariable phrase, "narracoopa"—very good.

They felt the incumbrance of clothing, when exhibiting their feats: the permission to strip was embraced with great gladness. They gradually wrought themselves into the most extravagant excitement: their pleasure was in activity.

Language.—Their language varied: the four principal tribes had different dialects. When they met at Flinders', communication was difficult, yet their songs were the same. The language has never been reduced to rules, though vocabularies have been collected by Jorgenson, and others. The Rev. Mr. Dove furnished some additional information; but though the specimens establish an affinity in these dialects, the results are otherwise unimportant. The vowels greatly predominate: the r is sounded rough, and lingering. The words are frequently liquid and melodious. At Flinders' Island, the language was a mixture of several; broken English, New Holland, and Tasmanian words formed the currency of the island. In English, they dropped the d and s; thus sugar is tugar, and doctor is togata. As with other barbarians, who have enjoyed the benefit of our instructions, the epithets of licentiousness and insult were most current, and most aptly applied. Strangers to abstract ideas, their words expressed the most common objects, sensations, and wants. Their songs, which reminded Labillardiere of the music of the Arabs of Asia Minor, were exceedingly soft and plaintive; their voices not wanting in melody. They repeated the same note in soft and liquid syllables; descended to the second bar, and finished with a third above the key note. They sometimes varied, by suddenly running into the octave. Their strains were considered, by a Scotchman, a close resemblance to the Highland bagpipe. The stanzas they repeated again and again: none have been translated, for which, it is said, they are unfit.[33]

Intellect.—Their intellectual character is low; yet not so inferior as often described. They appeared stupid, when addressed on subjects which had no relation to their mode of life; but they were quick and cunning within their own sphere. A country not producing any animal capable of service; where nothing is sharper than stone; destitute of grain, and of fruits of any value, could be inhabited only by a wandering race. Their locomotion sharpened their powers of observation, without much increasing their ideas. In such circumstances, mind may degenerate, but it cannot advance. Some colonists were recently startled, by the appearance of a white family from the remote interior: they were found by a surveyor, who at first took them for savages; they had the animal expression of the eye, which is so common to uncivilised people.

The inferiority of the aboriginal mind is not to be denied. Intellectual power is both hereditary and improvable: the exaltation of a generation of men gives the infancy of the next a more forward starting point—what was individual is diffused, until it becomes characteristic of the race.

They were fond of imitation, and humour: they had their drolls and mountebanks: they were able to seize the peculiarities of individuals, and exhibit them with considerable force.[34]

In several parts of the colony rude drawings have been discovered. Cattle, kangaroo, and dogs, were traced in charcoal. These attempts were exceedingly rude, and sometimes the artist was wholly unintelligible. At Belvoir Vale, the natives saw the Company's two carts, drawn by six oxen: they drew on bark the wheels, and the drivers with their whips. They were the first that ever passed that region.

Disposition.—They were cruel in their resentment; but not prone to violence: that they did not shorten the sufferings of animals taken for food, will hardly be considered by sportsmen decisive evidence against them. They were not ungrateful; especially for medical relief, which appeared a favor more unequivocal than presents of food.

A little boy, captured by a surveyor in 1828, when seen, sprang into the water, where he remained for a long time: at first, he was greatly alarmed, but soon became contented. He pointed to the lady of the house as a lubra. Entering a room, where a young lady was seated, he was told to kiss her: after long hesitation, he went up to her; laid his fingers gently on her cheek, then kissed them, and ran out!

Some captives, taken by Mr. Batman, were lodged in the gaol: they became strongly attached to the javelin man: they were treated by the gaoler with studious compassion, and they left the prison with tears!

The English were seen by some friendly natives to draught the toad fish, which is poison, and by which several have perished: the natives perceiving its preparation for food, endeavoured to shew, by gestures, that it was not to be eaten, and exhibited its effects by the semblance of death. Not very long after, a native was shewn a pistol, which a white man snapped at his own ear; and who, giving the unfortunate black one shotted, encouraged him to perform the same manoeuvre; he was thus murdered by his own hands. The natives were variable, from ignorance and distrust; probably from mental puerility: thus, their war whoop and defiance were soon succeeded by shouts of laughter.

Religious Ideas.—Their religious ideas were exceedingly meagre and uncertain. To Mr. Horton's enquiries, in 1821, they answered, "don't know," with broad grins: he was probably not understood. They appear to have had no religious rites, and few congenial ideas: they dreaded darkness, and feared to wander from their fires: they recognised a malignant spirit, and attributed strong emotions to the devil. The feats imputed to his agency, do not much differ from the sensations of night-mare: they believed him to be white—a notion supported by very substantial reasons, and suggested by their national experience: this idea must have been modern. They ascribed extraordinary convulsions to this malignant power, and to his influence they traced madness. Lord Monboddo might have contrived their account of the creation: they were formed with tails, and without knee-joints, by a benevolent being: another descended from heaven, and compassionating the sufferers, cut off the tail; and with grease softened the knees.

As to a future state, they expected to re-appear on an island in the Straits, and "to jump up white men." They anticipated in another life the full enjoyment of what they coveted in this. These scraps of theology, when not clearly European, are of doubtful origin: nothing seems certain, except that they dreaded mischief, from demons of darkness. Though they had no idols, they possessed some notions of statuary: it was sufficiently rude. They selected stones, about ten inches high, to represent absent friends; one of greater dimensions than common, Backhouse observed that they called Mother Brown.

Persons of sanguine minds are apt to attribute to them religious ideas, which they never possessed in their original state. The notion of a spirit, however, exists on the continent: in this, the Tasmanian black participated. Their ideas were extremely indefinite, and will not refute, or much support the belief, that the recognition of a Divinity is an universal tradition.

The Sick.—They suffered from several diseases, which were often fatal. Rheumatism and inflammations were cured by incisions: the loathsome eruption, called the native leprosy, they relieved by wallowing in ashes: the catarrh was very destructive, in certain seasons; a whole tribe on the Huon perished, except one woman. The native doctor said, that it was the devil that killed them: the woman described the process by feigned coughing. Their surgery was simple: they cut gashes with crystal. They treated a snake bite by boring the wound with a charred peg; stuffed it with fur, and then singed off the surplus to the level of the skin. They had faith in charms: thigh bones were especially useful, and were fastened on the head in a triangle: these relics were found very effectual. There were some who practised more than others, and therefore called doctors by the English: one of these feigned inspiration, and brandished his club. The sick were often deserted: their tribes could neither convey them, nor wait for their recovery. Food and a lenitive were left within their reach, and when able they followed their kinsmen; the alternative is the terrible risk of a wandering life. This custom was modified by circumstances, and sometimes by the relatives of the sufferer.

Like the natives of New South Wales, they called to each other, from a great distance, by the cooey; a word meaning "come to me." The Sydney blacks modulated this cry, with successive inflexions; the Tasmanian uttered it with less art. It is a sound of great compass. The English, in the bush, adopt it: the first syllable is prolonged; the second is raised to a higher key, and is sharp and abrupt.[35]

Funereal.—When they felt the approach of death, they were anxious to expire in the open air, and requested to be carried forth, even from the houses erected for their use. They believed that the spirit lingers in the body until sun-down. The French naturalist, Labillardiere, first noticed the burning of the dead. His account was ridiculed by the Quarterly Reviewers, who suspected cannibalism; but there are proofs innumerable, that this was a practice of affection. A group of blacks was watched, in 1829, while engaged in a funeral. A fire was made at the foot of a tree: a naked infant was carried in procession, with loud cries and lamentations; when the body was decomposed in the flames, the skull was taken up by a female,—probably the mother. The skull was long worn wrapt in kangaroo skin: Backhouse observed a couple who carried, alternately, this ghastly memento of their child: it is said, that they deposited several together, in final resting places.

They were jealous of spectators, and took offence if they approached their dead. Bodies not consumed, were placed in hollow trees, and closed in by underwood: decomposition being completed in these natural tombs, the survivors carried away the bones. Backhouse saw a striking funeral: a woman died; they built a pile of logs; laid the body thereon, and watched all night. At daybreak they applied the brand; then covering their faces with the ashes, which became furrowed with their tears, they sat down and lamented!

Just after the capture, an aborigine told his tribe that his death was at hand. He requested them to prepare the wood for his obsequies, while he leaned against a tree, directing their sad labors: he died that night! This is touching. A savage preparing for his funeral, with a calm consciousness of his fate—midst the ruins of his fading race!

* * * * *

In closing this mournful record, the reader is conscious that the history of the Tasmanian is but the experience of myriads. As an exhibition of Providence, it fills us with astonishment;—of human passions, with humiliation and sadness. The current of immigration will not be diverted by abstract questions of human rights, nor will states model their policy to preserve the barbarian; but the path of history is clear, and even self love, which may carefully sift evidence, must not turn from the lessons it offers.

The original occupation of this country necessarily involved most of the consequences which followed: was that occupation, then, just? The right of wandering hordes to engross vast regions—for ever to retain exclusive property in the soil, and which would feed millions where hundreds are scattered—can never be maintained. The laws of increase seem to suggest the right of migration: neither nations nor individuals are bound to tarry on one spot, and die. The assumption of sovereignty over a savage people is justified by necessity—that law, which gives to strength the control of weakness. It prevails everywhere: it may be either malignant or benevolent, but it is irresistible. The barbarian that cannot comprehend laws or treaties, must be governed by bribes, or by force. Thus, that the royal standard was planted, need occasion no remorse; but though the native had not exclusive natural rights, he possessed the attributes of man, and the government was bound to ascertain his wants, and protect his interest in the country. England, however, forgot the aborigina: she secured him no refuge—provided no interpreter to his feelings; his language was unknown, and his testimony inadmissable.

The legal recognition of rights in the soil, pertaining to the native inhabitants of colonised regions, is attended with some difficulty, and nowhere greater than among hunting tribes: their actual possession is only definable, by admitting the wide boundaries of the chase. The Parliamentary Committee, in a review of the whole question, did not recommend treaties with savages: the terms would be liable to disputes, and a difference of interpretation would occasion distrust and animosity. A middle course might, however, be open. The natives have an equitable lien on the land, for which rulers who transfer its occupation are bound to provide effectively and for ever. Instead of making the death of the native the release of private incumbrance; instead of making it the constant interest, and daily effort of the settler, to drive him away, it ought to have been the object of the crown to identify the life of the native with the welfare of the intruder. In granting possession of lands, the terms might have given the settler a claim for remission of price—or a pecuniary reward, payable out of the proceeds of land—for every native child he might rear, and every family he might induce to choose him as their protector. Thus the shepherd princes would have felt that their interests harmonised with the existence of a race, now regarded with dislike and jealousy. The native police at Port Phillip, suggested originally by Captain Maconochie, is an adoption of this principle: they are useful, and therefore pains have been taken to attach them. It is in vain to make laws, and to issue proclamations to shield the aborigines, unless they are identified with some local interest; and for this, no sacrifice of the land revenue could be considered too great.

A youth, called Van Diemen, was nine years old when found in the wood, and adopted by Col. Davey; he was subsequently taken to England by Mr. Kermode. He had been taught to read, and could repeat several chapters of the Bible. He was remarkably keen and intelligent. [On his return to this colony, he was cut off by consumption: at the post mortem it was found that his lungs were nearly gone.] Mr. Kermode endeavoured to prevail with Lord Bathurst, to authorise a grant of land; but Mr. Wilmot Horton, then Under Secretary, objected that there were millions of British subjects, whose claims were of the same kind, and that the precedent would be inconvenient. At the same time, men in chains were receiving grants of land, and emancipists as a matter of course; but the minister was opposed to admit a claim founded on birth, orphanage, and civilisation, lest it should multiply applicants. As if anything could have been more desirable to the philanthropist and politician: who can wonder that convicts despised that which the ministers of the crown repudiated? Excepting the often pernicious donatives, occasionally conferred, the aborigina was treated only as a foreigner, a slave, and an enemy. Thus the order of Lord Hobart stood alone: it was a record of intention, not a development of government. The ministry washed their hands, and averted their eyes; and threw upon the colony the responsibility of inevitable crime.[36]

But the government of England, not only left undefined the obligations it seemed to confess: it did more; it let loose on the shores of Tasmania its outcasts, its robbers, and its homicides; it released their bonds, and sent them forth to contest with the native for the animals of chase—to cross his path unwatched—to destroy him unpunished. Crimes of every kind were visited, save this. For a word, or a look, the felon was brought to the triangle; but when he shot down the native, and acquired distinction by his butcheries, justice became scrupulous: the laws were silent—religion and humanity were silent; and the fallen black, like the uprooted forest, was thought of as an encumbrance removed!

The state of the census was equally reprehensible: England not only forgot the prescriptions of nature, and formed communities of men, but the inevitable consequence to the natives was utterly neglected. It would be impossible even to hint the series of facts, which are authenticated to the writer, and which strangely blended ferocity and lust. The sealer, or stockman, who periled his life to accomplish the abduction of a native female, thought that danger but fairly avenged by the destruction of her relatives! Thus far the government was remiss and culpable. The crimes of individuals, without diminishing their guilt, must be traced to those general causes, which are subject to the disposal of statesmen and legislators.

But when the colony was planted, and the people spread abroad, it was the duty of the crown to protect its subjects of every class: it was the duty of its officers to arrest the arm of the black man, however great the provocation that raised it. They could not stand by to investigate causes; to divide between the two races the proportions of crime, while the innocent family was exposed to violence. It was better that the blacks should die, than that they should stain the settler's hearth with the blood of his children. In this view Colonel Arthur was right: his estimate of the native character was not impartial, for he beheld it when it only appeared detestable. He had no choice; he resolved to protect his countrymen.

It is common to speak of the guilt of this community; sometimes in variance with reason and truth. That guilt belongs only to the guilty; it cannot contaminate those who were helpless spectators, or involuntary agents. The doctrine of common responsibility, can only be applicable where all are actors, or one is the representative of all. The colonist may say, "I owe no reparation, for I have done the native no wrong; I never contemplated aiding in his destruction: I have seen it with horror." May the lesson of his sufferings become the shield of his race! Those who impute guilt to this colony, forget that its worst members are not stationary, and that many have borne away their guilt with their persons. That Being, who makes requisition for blood, will find it in the skirts of the murderer, and not on the land he disdained.

No man can witness the triumph of colonisation, when cities rise in the desert, and the wilderness blossoms as the rose, without being gladdened by the change; but the question which includes the fate of the aborigines,—What will become of them?—must check exultation. The black will invade rights he does not comprehend; seize on stragglers from those flocks, which have driven off his game; and wound the heel which yet ultimately treads him to the dust. Such is the process—it is carelessly remarked, that the native is seen less often; that it is long since he ventured to cross the last line, where death set up landmarks in the slain. At length the secret comes out: the tribe which welcomed the first settler with shouts and dancing, or at worst looked on with indifference, has ceased to live.

If the accounts of discoverers have been too flattering to the native character, they are explained rather than contradicted by the early colonists. These describe, with exultation, their new acquaintance, when writing to their friends: how peaceful, light-hearted, and obliging. They are charmed by their simplicity; they sleep among them without fear: but these notes soon change; and passing from censure to hatred, they speak of them as improvident, importunate, and instrusive; as rapacious and mischievous; then as treacherous and blood-thirsty—finally, as devils, and beasts of prey. Their appearance is offensive, their proximity obstructive: their presence renders everything insecure. Thus the muskets of the soldier, and of the bandit, are equally useful; they clear the land of a detested incubus.

It is not in the nature of civilisation to exalt the savage. Chilled by the immensity of the distance, he cannot be an equal: his relation to the white can only be that of an alien, or a slave. By the time astonishment subsides, the power of civilised men is understood, and their encroachment is felt. Fine houses garrison his country, enclosures restrict his chase, and alternately fill him with rage and sadness. He steals across the land he once held in sovereignty, and sighs for the freedom and fearlessness of his ancestors: he flies the track of his invaders, or surprises them with his vengeance;—a savage he was found, and a savage he perishes!



REMARKS ON THE CAUSES OF THE BURNING OF THE DEAD BY THE VAN DIEMENESE.

[From Peron's Voyage, 1802.]

"On a wide swarth of verdure (at Maria Island), beneath some antique casuarinae, rose a cone, formed coarsely of the bark of trees inserted at bottom in the ground, and terminated at top by a large band of similar materials. Four long poles stuck in the earth, sustained and served for all the pieces of bark to lean against; these four poles seemed also calculated to ornament the building; for, instead of uniting all their upper extremity like the bark, and so forming a simple cone, they crossed each other about the middle, and then extended without the roof of the ornament. From this disposition resulted a sort of inverted tetracdic pyramid in the upper part opposed to the cone below. This contrast of form in the two parts of the building had a somewhat graceful effect, which was increased by the following additions:—With each of the four sides of the pyramid corresponded a wide strip of bark, the two bent extremities of which were at the bottom bound together by the large band, which, as I before noticed, united all the pieces of bark at the top of the cone: it follows that each of these four strips formed a sort of oval, least rounded at its inferior extremity, and widest and most rounded above; and as each of these ovals corresponded with one of the sides of the inverted pyramid, it is not difficult to conceive the elegance and picturesque effect of the plan.

"After looking some time at this monument, the use of which I vainly strove to fathom, I soon resolved to push my examination to a greater length: I removed several thick pieces of bark, and readily penetrated to the interior of the building. The whole of the upper part was vacant: at the bottom was a large flattened cone formed of a fine light grass, laid with much care in conuntric and very deep strata. With my doubt respecting the purpose of this, my curiosity increased. Eight small bent sticks crossing each other at the summit of this cone of verdure, served to preserve its form; each of these sticks had its two extremities fastened in the earth, and kept firm in their position by a large piece of flattened granite. So much care led me to expect some important discovery; nor was I mistaken. Scarcely had I raised the upper layers of turf, ere I perceived a large heap of white ashes, apparently collected together with nicety: thrusting my hand into the midst of these, I felt something hard, withdrawing which, I found it to be the jaw-bone of a man, and shreds of flesh still adhering to it. I shuddered with horror. Still, reflecting a little on all I had observed in the composition of the monument, I soon experienced sensations widely different from those I felt at first: the verdure, the flowers, the protecting trees, the deep bed of herbage which covered the ashes, all united to convince me that I had here discovered a tomb.... Succeeding ideas caused new reflections: I asked myself, 'What can have originated this custom of burning the dead? Separated from the rest of the world, and at its farthest extremity, these people cannot have adopted it from communication with others; it must irrefutably therefore be an idea of their own. But, in that case, wherefore prefer this mode of disposing of the dead? Can the preference be the effect of chance? Or does there exist some physical reason for it, dependent on the nature of things, or the particular social organization of these men?' ...

"This last measure is to burn it. Every thing concurs to facilitate this expedient; every thing in this is accordant with the mode of life of the inhabitant of these shores, as well as the circumstances in which he is placed. Fire, that powerful and terrible agent, their recourse on so many and such valuable occasions, cannot fail of exciting among these people some of those sentiments of veneration, consecrated with the majority of ancient nations by such numerous institutions and religious monuments. Without being deified, perhaps, as formerly it was, fire in these countries is regarded as something superior to the other works of nature; and these first ideas will probably have contributed not in a trivial degree to the determination of burning their dead. The requisite materials for the purpose were at hand: neither calculation nor labor were required for putting the plan in execution; no instrument was necessary; and it prevented taint and the consequent infection. But a few remains of bones would be here after the operation, to cover which the ashes of the fire would be sufficient. The whole ceremony required only a few hours; and prejudices tended to render it reputable and sacred. Thus then this practice of burning the dead does not appear to be the effect of mere chance: accordant with physical and local circumstances, these evidently were the origin of the custom."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 27: Despatch to Lord Goderich, 6th April, 1833.]

[Footnote 28: The following is worth remembering, as a caution to reviewers, as well as philosophers:—"At Port Dalrymple, in Van Diemen's Land, there was every reason to believe, the natives were unacquainted with the use of canoes; a fact, extremely embarrassing to those who indulge themselves in speculating on the genealogy of natives: because it reduces them to the necessity of supposing, that this isolated people swam over from the main land, or that they were aboriginal."—Rev. Sidney Smith, Edin. Rev., 1803.]

[Footnote 29: "In many instances (it is remarked by Count Strzelecki, p. 355) the facial angle is more acute in the white man: the superciliary ridge, the centres of ossification of the frontal bones, and the ridge of the occipital one, more developed; and the maxilliary more widely expanded, than in the skulls of aborigines."]

[Footnote 30: Veteran novel readers will be delighted to find, that these black lovers were united by an event, which constitutes the most touching artifice of fashionable fiction.]

[Footnote 31: Report of Mr. Jones to Governor Arthur.]

[Footnote 32: "I remember a fellow of the 'Grimaldi' breed: he undertook, on a fine summer's evening, to place himself among the tree stumps of a field, so that not two of a large party should agree as to his identity. He reclined like a Roman on his elbow, projected his arm as if a small branch, and drew down his head. No one could tell which was the living stump, and were obliged to call him to come out and shew himself."—Dr. Ross's "Fourteen years ago."]

[Footnote 33: Song of Ben Lomond:—

"Ne popula raina pogana Thu me gunnea Naina kaipa raina pogana Naara paara powella paara. Ballahoo, Hoo hoo, War whoop (very gutteral)."

—Tas. Journal.]

[Footnote 34: This is common to the race: there is one now at Geelong, whose imitations enabled the spectator at once to guess the person intended.]

[Footnote 35: A female, born on this division of the globe, once stood at the foot of London bridge, and cooeyed for her husband, of whom she had lost sight, and stopped the passengers by the novelty of the sound; which, however, is not unknown in certain neighbourhoods of the metropolis. Some gentlemen, on a visit to a London theatre, to draw the attention of their friends in an opposite box, called out cooey; a voice, in the gallery, answered—"Botany Bay!"]

[Footnote 36: "You are to endeavour, by every means in your power, to open an intercourse with the natives, and to conciliate their good will—enjoining all persons under your government to live in amity and kindness with them; and if any person shall exercise any acts of violence against them, or shall wantonly give them any interruption in the exercise of their several occupations, you are to cause such offender to be brought to punishment, according to the degree of the offence."—Lord Hobart's instructions to Lieutenant-Governor Collins.]



HISTORY OF TASMANIA.



TRANSPORTATION.



TRANSPORTATION.

SECTION I.

Transportation, considered not as a question of national policy but as a fact, demands a place in this record. It will be our object to ascertain those incidents which illustrate its local operation—to trace events that have attended the repeated changes in its colonial spirit. It belongs to the British statesman to scan its effects on the population of the empire; but fairly to exhibit its Australasian aspect, will not be without utility to the colonies themselves.

Although a separate relation will derange the thread of Tasmanian history, the reader may be compensated by a view more perspicuous and useful.

Thousands of British offenders, who by their exile and sufferings have expiated their crimes, trod almost alone the first stages of Austral colonisation, and amidst toils and privations, initiated a progress now beheld by nations with curiosity and admiration. Economists still weigh in uncertain balances the loss and the gain, and the legislator longs for facts which may decide the perpetual conflict between them who denounce and those who approve this expedient of penal legislation. It is not the intention of this narrative to anticipate conclusions: its design will be accomplished when the story of the past is truly told.

Exile, the penalty denounced by the Almighty against the first homicide, was among the earliest affixed by man to lesser crimes, or whenever the presence of the offender endangered the public repose. The Roman law permitted the accused to withdraw from impending judgment by a voluntary exile. Such was the practice in the time of Cicero. When men sought to avoid bondage or death, adjudged by the laws, they had recourse to exile as to an altar; nor did they forfeit their civic standing, except with their lives.[37]

At a later period, under the imperial government, the islands of the Mediterranean became places of exile: several thousand Jews were banished from Rome to the Island of Sardinia.[38]

Transportation was unknown to the common law of England, but abjuration of the realm, which resembled the Roman practice, was not infrequent: "it was permitted," said Sir Edward Coke, "when the felon chose rather to perdere patriam quam vitam,"—to lose his country rather than his life. The culprit having found sanctuary within the precincts of a church, took oath to abjure the realm: assuming the character of a pilgrim, he received a cross to protect him on his journey. By the Act of James I. the privilege of sanctuary was taken away,[39] and thus the abjuration, founded upon it, virtually abolished.