Volume 1 — FROM 1803 TO 1824

SECTION I

The establishment of a settlement in Van Diemen's Land, perhaps thus hastened by the jealousy of a rival power, was at first chiefly intended to relieve Port Jackson. Fifteen years had elapsed since its foundation, and from six to seven thousand prisoners had been transported thither: dispersion became necessary to security—to repress alike the vices of the convicts, and the growing malversation of their taskmasters. The want of prisons, or places of punishment, and the indolence and intemperance of emancipist settlers, endangered authority.

In 1800, the transportation of the defenders from Ireland, appears to have created continual anxiety: a committee of officers was formed to examine persons suspected, when Harold, a priest, was arrested, and accused his fellow prisoners. His testimony was insidious, and discredited; but the alarm led to the formation of a volunteer company of a hundred persons, who armed for the suppression of rebellion. The more distrusted of the Irish prisoners were conveyed to Norfolk Island; there, some months after, a conspiracy was detected to massacre the officers, and seize the island. On the night fixed for action, the plot was discovered. An Irish servant, muttering words of compassion, was overheard by his master: he was induced to explain, and was immediately taken to Major Foveaux, the officer in command. The danger was imminent: the warmth of the season (December) had tempted the soldiers to slumber with open doors, and it was said that the sentinels were implicated who that night kept watch. These being changed, and other precautions adopted, the plotters postponed their design; and next day were marched to church without suspicion. The door was beset with soldiers: the leaders were arrested; one executed—and on the following day, the blacksmith, charged with fabricating arms, was also hung. The necessity for dispensing with the forms of law was not made out, and these summary punishments were censured. That the danger was not imaginary, may, however, be inferred from the after attempts at Port Jackson.

The military force of New South Wales, drawn together by a love of adventure, or the hope of gain, when their own status was assailed, were often exacting and severe: but they slightly sustained the moral strength of the government. To select mistresses from the female prisoners was one of their earliest and most valued prerogatives, who, standing in this equivocal relation, became their agents and sold their rum.

The Governor, after struggling to abate the abuses around him, yielded to a pressure which seemed irresistible. He endeavoured to mollify by his liberality, those he could not govern by restraint: he multiplied licenses for the sale of rum, and emancipists aspired to commercial rivalry with the suttlers in commission. The chief constable was himself a publican, and the chief gaoler shared in the lucrative calling, and sold spirits opposite the prison.

The moral laxity which prevailed, produced its natural consequences—violations of discipline, which led to great crimes. The offenders, to escape immediate punishments, retreated to the remote districts; occasionally sheltered by the emancipist cotters. The feeble resistance offered to their depredations, inspired, and almost justified the prisoners in the hope, that the common bondage might be broken. A large agricultural establishment, belonging to the government, at Castle-hill, Parramatta, employed many Irishmen implicated in the recent disorders of their country. These prompted the rest to attempt to recover their liberty, but they were subdued by the military under Major Johnstone: some were shot, and several executed.

In this unsatisfactory condition was the colony of Port Jackson, when Van Diemen's Land was occupied. Its remote distance, its comparatively small extent and insular form, fitted it for the purposes of penal restraint—a place where the most turbulent and rapacious could find no scope for their passions. Its ports closed against commerce, afforded few means of escape. In New Holland, labor and produce were redundant: overwhelming harvests reduced the price of grain so low, that it was rejected by the merchants; goods could not be obtained in exchange;[33] and the convicts at the disposal of government were a burden on its hands—almost in a condition to defy its authority. Thus, Van Diemen's Land was colonised; first, as a place of exile for the more felonious of felons—the Botany Bay of Botany Bay—

"And in the lowest deep, a lower deep!"

Lieutenant Bowen, in the Lady Nelson, set sail from Sydney, and in August, 1803, landed at Risdon, on the east bank of the Derwent: his party included a few soldiers and prisoners, and Dr. Mountgarrat, the surgeon. A far more important immigration soon followed.

Port Phillip, on the east coast of New Holland, first discovered by Captain Murray in the Lady Nelson, 1799, was surveyed by Flinders in 1802, and in 1803 by Grimes, the surveyor-general. They reported the country to be lightly timbered, to abound in herbage, and gentle slopes suitable to the plough. The port offered an asylum against both war and tempests, sufficient for the fleets of all nations.[34]

The establishment of a settlement at Port Phillip being determined on by the ministry of Great Britain, an expedition was forwarded, which consisted of the Calcutta, 50 guns, Captain Woodriff, and the Ocean, a transport of 500 tons. In addition to the convicts, there were forty marines, four hundred male prisoners, twelve free settlers and their families, six unmarried women, six the wives of prisoners, and six children. It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the morals of the officers, or of the women, were not superior either to the service or to the times. The events of the voyage, worthy of remembrance, were not numerous; it was disturbed by rumours of plots and conspiracies; punishments were not infrequent, and one woman was flogged for stealing the cap of a companion.

The Calcutta did not convey the settlers to the Derwent. On her return to Great Britain, Lieutenant Tuckey published an account of the voyage to Port Phillip, which he surveyed. In the year following (1805), the Calcutta was convoy to St. Helena, and encountered the Rochefort squadron. Captain Woodriff determined to engage the whole division: the merchantmen escaped; but the Calcutta, in the unequal contest, became unmanageable, and struck her colors. Captain Woodriff was soon exchanged, but Lieutenant Tuckey remained in captivity until the allied armies entered France.

Promoted to the rank of commander, he received charge of the expedition in 1816, sent to explore the Zaire; but with most of his people fell a martyr to the spirit of African discovery. He is said to have been handsome in person, and generous in hand. "He knew nothing of the value of money, except as it enabled him to gratify the feelings of a benevolent heart."[35]

The spot selected at Port Phillip, was ill-chosen as the site of a town, and they found great difficulty in obtaining pure water. These circumstances, represented by Collins to the Governor-in-chief, were thought sufficient to justify a removal to Van Diemen's Land, and long postponed the occupation of a country, inferior to few in this hemisphere; a measure lamented by several of the settlers. A lady, writing to her friends from the banks of the Derwent, censured, in terms of great contempt, the relinquishment of Port Phillip, which she described in glowing language: she seemed alone capable of estimating its future importance; but she pronounced Van Diemen's Land a dreary and desert region, destined never to prosper—thus she forfeited the credit of prophecy.[36]

Several prisoners attempted to escape; in one instance, with a singular result. Buckley, a man of gigantic stature, and two others, set off, it was said, for China! They rambled for some distance together, and suffered great misery: at last, they parted. Of his companions, Buckley saw no more, and when he returned to the settlement all was deserted. After months of solitary wandering, he found a tribe of natives, by whom he was adopted: he remained among them for three-and-thirty years, conforming to their barbarous customs, and forgetting his own language. Once only he saw the faces of white men; a boat's crew landed to bury a seaman: he endeavoured to arrest their attention; they looked at him earnestly, but took him for a savage—he was dressed in a rug of kangaroo skin, and was armed with spears. This man still survives: he contributed to the friendly reception of his countrymen; but during his long sojourn, he had imparted no ideas of civilisation.

The Lady Nelson and the Ocean conveyed the party from Port Phillip to the Derwent. The situation of the camp at Risdon had been found undesirable, they therefore landed at Sullivan's Cove. They arrived in two divisions, on the 30th January and 16th February, 1804. The names of the principal persons are as follows:—Lieutenant-Governor Collins; Rev. R. Knopwood, chaplain; E. Bromley, surgeon superintendent; W. Anson, colonial surgeon; M. Boden, W. Hopley, assistant surgeons; P. H. Humphrey, mineralogist; Lieutenant Fosbrook, deputy-commissary-general; G. P. Harris, deputy-surveyor; John Clarke and William Patterson, superintendents of convicts; Lieutenants W. Sladen, J. M. Johnson, and Edward Lord; 39 marines, 3 sergeants, 1 drummer, 1 fifer; and 367 male prisoners.

Meantime, the Lady Nelson was dispatched to Port Dalrymple, and surveyed the entrance of the Tamar: the report being favorable, a small party of prisoners were sent from Port Jackson, under Colonel Paterson, to form a settlement, who landed in October, 1804, and for some time held little intercourse with the settlement on the Derwent. Such were the pioneers of this important colony; and to so many casual but concurring incidents, we owe its existence.

The first annals of the settlement offer few events worthy of record. The transactions of a community, which in 1810 did not comprehend more than thirteen hundred and twenty-one persons,[37]—the greater part subject to penal control—could not, unassociated with the present, detain attention for a moment. The discipline which prevailed in Van Diemen's Land, and the results which it produced, will be hereafter related to illustrate transportation; for who would load the colonial fame with details, from which the eyes of mankind turn with natural disgust, or blend them with the fabric of Tasmanian history?

The first Governor-in-chief of Van Diemen's Land, the third of New South Wales, was Philip Gidley King, son of Philip King, a draper, of Launceston, Cornwall, England. At twelve years of age he entered the royal navy: by Admiral Byron he was made lieutenant, and holding that rank in the Sirius, he attended the expedition of Phillip in 1788.[38] He was employed to establish the settlement of Norfolk Island, where his proceedings, recorded in his official journal, and afterwards published in various forms, afforded great amusement and satisfaction. There he united in his person, for some time, the priest and the ruler: he experienced during his residence, most of the anxieties and difficulties incident to such stations, and detailed them with curious minuteness. As a cultivator he was energetic and persevering; but the rats devoured his seed, or torrents washed it away: or a tropical hurricane, which tore up huge trees, overthrew the frail buildings he reared. His people conspired to seize his government; he detected, and forgave them: yet he was not scrupulous in his methods of punishment. A woman he repeatedly flogged, for stealing the provisions of her neighbours. He, however, saw the little settlement gradually improve: it became the favorite residence of the officers; and, as the climate was better understood, the fertility of the soil yielded a surpassing abundance.

King was not inattentive to his own interest, and became the owner of considerable stock. Anecdotes of his humour circulate through the colonies: being asked by a settler to find him a man to perform certain work, he took him into his room and pointed him to a mirror. Again, when a marine was the suitor for some favour, in rejecting his petition he put him through his exercises, which ended in quick march. He had the frankness of the sailor, and neither aspired to state nor exacted homage.

David Collins, Esq., long judge advocate of New South Wales, was the first Lieutenant-Governor of Van Diemen's Land. He was present with his father, General Collins, at the battle at Bunker's Hill, and thus witnessed an event accepted by exulting Europe as a signal that British sway over that region was lost. It was the lot of Collins to proclaim the dominion of Great Britain at the inauguration of Phillip, and thus announced the first day of a second and not less valuable empire.

Such incidents teach us that a single life may embrace events beyond the scope of imagination. We are reminded of the most brilliant passage in the oratory of Burke, delivered while the authority of the crown was trembling in the balance of fate. When illustrating how far the realities of the future might exceed the visions of the present moment, he stated that a venerable nobleman, Lord Bathurst, could remember when American interests were a little speck, but which during his life had grown to greater consequence than all the commercial achievements of Great Britain in seventeen hundred years. "Fortunate man," he exclaimed, "he has lived to see it: fortunate, indeed, if he lives to see nothing which will vary the prospect, and cloud the setting of his day."[39]

Collins was favorably known to the public by his Account of the English Colony in New South Wales: his work was distinguished by the reviewers, amidst a crowd of publications, as superior to them all.[40] The stateliness of his style, and the pomp with which he ushers trivial events, were less apparent when the topics were new. In the last page he, however, complains that he had spent nine years in the colonial service, which intercepted the honors of his profession; a case of hardship, he remarks, everywhere admitted, both by those who could compensate, and those who could only condole.

In his dedication to Lord Hobart, the principal secretary of state, he drops the tone of complaint and disappointment: he tells that nobleman that his private virtues were rendered more conspicuous by the splendour of his talents as a statesman, and that praise could not be interpreted as flattery, when devoted to a name which commanded the veneration of the world. Remonstrances so skilfully advanced could not be unnoticed: Collins was at once raised to the rank of colonel, and the intelligence with which he delineated the proper objects and agents of penal government, exalted him still higher. He dated his dedication in 1802, and embarked the following year as governor of the settlement it had been resolved to form.

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION II

When Collins determined to relinquish Risdon, after survey and comparison of the places offered to his choice, he preferred the spot on which stands Hobart Town, called after the name of his patron. Imagination has traced in its natural outlines a resemblance to the seven-hilled Roman capital, once the mistress of the world.[41] Its chief recommendation was the stream which runs through the centre of the city, whose margin was then beset with brushwood, and choked with prostrate trees: these often obstructed its course, and threw over the adjacent banks a flow of water, and thus formed marshes and pools.[42]

Hobart Town is built on the west side of the Derwent, a river named after the Derwent in Cumberland, celebrated by Wordsworth, the laureate of England, and the poet of the lakes, who thus associates with its beauties the recollections of his childhood:—

"Among the mountains were we nursed, loved stream! Thou near the eagle's nest, Where thy deep voice could lull me." "————Glory of the vale! Kept in perpetual verdure by the steam Of thy soft breath."[43]

The county, including at first half the island, was called after the same nobleman, who was then Lord Buckinghamshire.

The northern settlement, formed by Colonel Paterson,[44] was seated on the Western Arm of the Tamar, and called York Town. In describing the site, the difficulty of obtaining water is noticed by Flinders; but by Dr. Bass, the adjacent land was represented as adapted for both agriculture and pasture: he added, "If it should be ever proposed to make a settlement, this part seems to merit particular attention." From this spot the greater part of the new establishment was removed (1806) to the country above the North and South Esk; where the colonists were delighted to discover extensive plains equally suitable for tillage and pasture, where not a tree obstructed the prospect.[45]

The Tamar was traced, and named by Paterson after a Cornish stream, and the valley of Launceston, after a town in Cornwall, and both in honor of Governor King. At Launceston he proposed to establish a sea port town, for the northern section of the island. Port Dalrymple, as this settlement was then called, was not under the government of Hobart Town until 1812.[46]

The first communication between Hobart and Launceston was opened by Lieutenant Laycock and his party, they were nine days in the journey, and their unexpected appearance excited great astonishment at Hobart.[47] A loaded cart was subsequently sent to Launceston, and passed over the country without falling a single tree.[48]

The first Tasmanian house stood on land adjoining the Macquarie Hotel: it was built by Lieutenant E. Lord, of wattle and dab—its windows, like the port-holes of a vessel. That it was the first, constituted its chief claim to distinction: it was considered as an achievement of civilisation—a trophy gained upon the wilderness. All were not so well lodged; yet such houses are soon reared. Posts, joined by wall plates, fixed in the ground; woven with wattle rods, plastered with mingled clay, sand, and wiry short grass, and whitened—a grass thatched roof; a chimney of turf piled on stone, a door and a window: the cottage is finished.

The removal of the settlers from Norfolk Island, colonised in 1788, was the next most important event. On his return to Great Britain, Collins visited that place, in company with Hunter, the late governor-in-chief. On the whole, he represented Norfolk Island as by no means promising to repay the annual cost, and it was resolved to abandon it.

In 1803, directions were issued by Lord Buckinghamshire (Lord Hobart). The opposition of the settlers, and the fear of famine, for some time occasioned delay. In 1805, only four free settlers had removed. The order was renewed in 1808 by Mr. Windham, then secretary of state, and Captain Bligh directed Captain Piper to compel the colonists to evacuate the island, and even to shoot any one who might retreat to the woods to avoid embarkation.[49] They were conveyed to this island chiefly in the Estramina, City of Edinburgh, and Sydney: 254 arrived on 15th October, 1808.[50]

Norfolk Island, so celebrated for its genial climate and unusual fruitfulness, is of volcanic origin, and contains about 14,000 acres. It lies on the 29th parallel,[51] north of New Zealand: it is nine hundred and ninety miles from Port Jackson, thirteen hundred miles from the Derwent, and until seen by Captain Cook, was probably never visited by man. Norfolk Island has twenty-eight miles of sea shore: its greatest elevation is Mount Pitt: it is a succession of hills and valleys. Its lofty cliffs, which breast the ocean, are crowned by the elegant white wood and the gigantic pine. The wild jasmine and convolvuli, which reach from tree to tree, form bowers and walks of exquisite beauty. Twice in the year the settler gathered his harvest: the lemon, the orange, and the pine, shed their fragrance in profusion, and yielded the richest fruit. Though liable to occasional storms and destructive insects, the husbandman could scarcely be said to toil. Gentle showers frequently refresh the undulating soil, and pour down rivulets to the ocean. Sea breezes cool the atmosphere, and the diseases often incident to such latitudes, are unknown; but no ships can anchor: it is a land unsuited to commerce.

Thus it presented no incitement to exertion: it gave the indolent abundance without labor; it afforded a leisure, in which man is prone to degenerate and sink into the savage. Distillation from the cane produced spirits, more than usually deleterious: unacquainted with the process by which saccharine is crystalised, the settlers were unable to prepare sugar. They found the raw rum destructive, and attributed its fatal effects solely to the leaden worms![52]

In 1800, the population of Norfolk Island comprehended 960 souls:[53] 3,521 acres of land were granted; divided into farms of from ten to thirty acres each. A station, where rather more refractory offenders were sent, its government varied with the character of each officer. Of the moral condition of the island nothing good could be expected, and little favorable is remembered.

Always a place of banishment, even when a colony, Norfolk Island seemed destined to exhibit the extremes of natural beauty and moral deformity. The language of Holt, the Irish rebel, who spent several months there, might be better suited to a latter period, but expressed the intensity of his abhorrence, not wholly unfounded—"That barbarous island, the dwelling place of devils in human shape; the refuse of Botany Bay—the doubly damned!"[54]

On the determination of the government being announced, the settlers manifested great repugnance: the elder people declared they would not quit the country; it was, however, the decree of an irresistible will. The inhabitants were offered a settlement in Van Diemen's Land or New South Wales; mostly, they chose this country. They received from the government whatever would contribute towards reconciling them to the change. Vessels were provided for their removal, their possession in land was doubled, and it was freed from all conditions and reservations. They received cattle on loan, and they were rationed as new settlers from the public stores. That the change was beneficial to the rising generation can hardly be doubted; but the effect on the parents was generally painful. Time was required to equal the cultivation of the spot they had left, compared with which even Van Diemen's Land seemed blank and barren. Years after, they spoke of the change with regret and sadness.

The settlers, divided into three classes, according to their origin or wealth, were located part in the neighbourhood of Hobart Town, at Pittwater, and New Norfolk, and part at Norfolk Plains. Thirty, forty, or fifty acres was the ordinary grant, until a later period: a large extent was neither possessed nor desired. Many valued nothing but the immediate benefits to which their character as immigrant farmers then entitled them. They drew their rations from the royal stores, and bartered away their homesteads for a few bottles of spirit; and it was no idle boast, that a keg of rum was then worth more than a common farm. Their hopeless and dissipated state is remarked in every document of the times: their frail dwellings soon exhibited all the signs of decay, and their ground was exhausted by continual cropping. Thus the exhilarating influences of youth and vigour, usual in the first steps of colonisation, were here unknown, and a civilising agency rarely counteracted the social evils which prevailed. The transactions of those early days are scarcely colonial: charged with debauch and outrage, they denote a time of social disorganisation—the dark ages found in the history of every country, where men have been their own masters, and remote from a public opinion, which cannot be corrupted or controlled.

There were, however, a few settlers from Norfolk Island, distinguished from the rest by their enterprise and diligence, and who rose to wealth; but in glancing down the list, a colonist observes how few have retained their heritage.

During the administration of Colonel Collins, the progress of the colony was barely perceptible. There were no roads in the interior; no public buildings: the house of the governor was a mere cottage, too mean for the accommodation of a modern mechanic.

The transfer commenced at the close of 1805. The Sydney, Captain Forrest, was employed to convey to the Derwent a party of the settlers, and the stock belonging to the governor-in-chief: this was purchased by Mr. George Guest, who sold the sheep at £5 per head, and was repaid in cattle. In the Sydney, Joseph Holt, now discharged from restraint, visited Van Diemen's Land, and contributed to its welfare by his agricultural and pastoral experience. He found Collins still living in a tent. A few acres of land had been cultivated at New Town by convicts, in charge of Clarke, the superintendent: cattle had arrived from Bengal, and sheep from Port Jackson; but the progress of the settlement had hitherto been slow.

In New South Wales,[55] gangs of men, stripped to the waist, labored together, and were exposed to rigorous discipline, common to slaves. These methods of tillage were introduced into Van Diemen's Land, where as yet there were no fields prepared for the plough, nor beast of draught to facilitate human toil. The chief overseers were not skilled in cultivation: one had been a shoemaker, the other a tailor; and while they were expecting large returns, they were ignorant that the full ears which promised an abundant yield, were smut, not grain. This early failure was attended with disastrous results.

On the arrival of the Sydney, Collins looked narrowly into the probable resources at his disposal, and sent Joseph Holt to examine the land on the Derwent, with a view to future location. He proceeded along its shores, until a ledge of rocks obstructed the passage of his boat: then ascending an eminence, not less in apparent height than the Dromedary Mountain, "I sat down," he writes, "on its top, and saw the finest country eyes ever beheld." This was that extensive district which, from the previous residence of its occupiers, was named New Norfolk. The spot whence he surveyed the subjacent land he called Mount Casha.

Joseph Holt, general of the rebel army of Wexford in 1798, at one time commanded 1,300 men. Memoirs, written by himself, were purchased by the keeper of the Irish records, and were edited by Thomas Crofton Croker. The result of that sanguinary struggle added considerable numbers to the population of these colonies, but on various terms. Holt was an exile, though often treated as a convict. As a commander he displayed great natural talents, courage, and fidelity. He ascribed his position as a rebel, solely to necessity of choosing between immediate death or insurrection. A neighbour wrecked his property, and denounced him a traitor in revenge: then loyal men were privileged to condemn without trial, and slaughter on the spot. In New South Wales, Holt was often suspected of sedition: he was imprisoned, and was forwarded to Norfolk Island without trial; on returning to Port Jackson, he visited the Derwent. Of Collins, Holt speaks with great enthusiasm, as the most lenient of the governors, and the finest of gentlemen: when he entered the forests, absconders would fall down on their knees before him, and obtain his forgiveness.[56]

Holt's notices of this place are scanty, and of the people more so; but he observes that the daughter of Mrs. Hayes was a "beautiful girl: the prettiest violet I saw growing on the Derwent." Of such charms he was no mean judge.[57] Collins was desirous that Holt should settle on the Derwent, and wrote to Governor King for his consent: the knowledge he possessed of the treatment of stock, it was thought, would have been useful; but he resolved not to move farther from the port of embarkation. He at length returned to Ireland, with £2,000—a step he lived to deplore.

The settlement was early involved in great difficulties. The hoe, the usual implement of husbandry, effected but a slow and discouraging progress: supplies from Port Jackson were forwarded in small quantities, and were soon altogether interrupted. In 1806 a disaster occurred, which reduced the elder colony to severe privation. The tempting fertility of of the land bordering on the Hawkesbury, the Nile of this hemisphere, induced the petty farmers, whose homesteads dotted its margin, to overlook its dangers. An inundation, remembered as the great flood, exceeded all former devastations: vast torrents, of which the origin was unknown, descended from the mountains, and pouring down with prodigious violence, suddenly filled and overflowed the channels of the river; and rising to the height of sixty and eighty feet in a few hours, swept away the stacks of corn, the live stock, and even the dwellings. A vessel approaching the coast, saw fragments of the floating ruins many miles distant from the shore. Thus, lately possessing a superabundant store, the poor suffered extreme destitution, and the price of maize and wheat rose to £5 and £6 per bushel.[58]

Unable to succour this colony, the government left it to its own resources, and for several years the scarcity continued with various intensity. The kangaroo hunters were the chief purveyors of food. The officers allowed servants, sent them to the woods, and sold their spoil to government. Considerable profits were made by the more successful: the commissariat allowed 1s. 6d. per lb., and the foundation of some fortunes were laid by persons whose servants were faithful and expert. A marine, assisted by two convicts, delivered to the king's stores, 1000 lbs. of kangaroo per month, and continued in this occupation for several years. A few coarse biscuits were distributed while they lasted, but the substitute for bread was the dried and pounded flesh of kangaroo! The government, unable to feed, could no longer task the prisoners: to lessen the pressure, they were sometimes permitted to disperse in search of subsistence, and thus laid the foundation of those lawless habits which afterwards brought the colony to the verge of ruin.

The Sydney had been chartered to India for wheat, but was lost, and the colony disappointed of the expected relief. When this calamity became known, a second effort was made: Colonel Paterson, while acting Governor of New South Wales, contracted with Captain Bunker, of the Venus, to bring a cargo of wheat from Bengal. It was not until 1810, that she anchored in the Derwent: the dread of famine was removed, and wheat was now valued at 12s. a bushel. The change of seed enabled the farmers to clear their ground of that mixed and inferior grain which had disappointed all attempts at agricultural independence.[59]

When at Bengal, the captain of the Venus received from the governor two prisoners, supposed to be cast-aways from a vessel seized at Port Jackson. Stewart, formerly a lieutenant in the navy, secretly contrived a plan to take the Harrington, a vessel richly laden, and provisioned for a long voyage. The wind blew fair as she lay in Sydney harbour, a tempting prize: embracing the favorable moment, Stewart called together several companions whom he could trust, and submitted his project, at the instant proper for its execution—the first successfully attempted by prisoners. Thus, before suspicion was awakened, he had seized a boat, hurried on board, mastered the crew, and was scudding before the breeze. But at sea his good fortune forsook him: the Harrington was recaptured by the Greyhound, and both vessels were lost on the coast of Luconia.[60]

These pirates were permitted to land at the Derwent, and were left behind by the Venus. They were found at the house of Garth, a settler, by soldiers sent to seize spirits secretly landed from the vessel. Mistaking the errand of the soldiers, one of these men called on his comrade to resist them; and being enraged by a refusal, he fired, and inflicted a mortal wound.[61] Such complicated crime was not extraordinary; but the kind of force necessary in the civil government, and the shelter afforded to outlaws, were symptoms of social disorder, which soon after assumed an alarming character.

It was the misfortune of Collins to be involved with the parties responsible in the deposition of Governor Bligh. This remarkable deviation from the ordinary conduct of British soldiers, has been attributed partly to the composition of the military force raised for that colony, and partly to the temper of Bligh. The officers merged the military character in the mercantile spirit, and were accustomed to enjoy privileges in virtue of their commissions, which they converted into a monopoly of trade. The distance of New South Wales from the centre of commerce, induced the crown to provide for the settlers the miscellaneous articles which are usually kept only by the shopkeepers. At Port Jackson, there were public magazines stored with every requisite for domestic use, such as potters' ware, utensils for the kitchen, and the implements of farming.[62] These were issued at stated prices, rather less than such commodities cost in Europe; but to prevent them becoming the objects of speculation, an official order for every issue, specifying the article, was necessary. Such methods of distribution gave, notwithstanding, ample room for partiality and corruption. On the arrival of Bligh, he found the improvident settlers, discontented and poor, completely in the hands of the martial dealers. Perhaps, from a love of justice, he attempted to rescue them from the grasp of these intermediate agents, who bought their produce at a narrow price, and gave them in exchange goods bearing an enormous per centage.[63] Bligh permitted the farmers to draw from the public magazine whatever was necessary for private use, and took their engagement to deliver their grain to the stores at the close of the harvest. This interruption to the customary dealings of the officers, naturally provoked them: Bligh reciprocated their aversion, and resented their disrespect. It is, indeed, stated by Wentworth, that this unfortunate officer renewed in New South Wales, the same tyranny which it is alleged had driven seamen of the Bounty to mutiny: that his disposition was brutal, and that he refined on the modes of inflicting torture.[64]

Bligh was arrested on the 26th January, 1808. A complicated quarrel with Mr. Macarthur, formerly paymaster of the New South Wales corps, arising out of mercantile transactions, was the occasion of the military insurrection. Having refused to attend a summons, Macarthur was apprehended on a warrant, and committed for trial: he was charged with an intention to stir up the people of the colony to hatred of the governor and of government—words of ominous import, when read in the light of colonial history.[65] Except the president of the court, the officers were more favorable to the accused than to the governor, and regarded him as the victim of a common cause. In his address to the court, Mr. Macarthur objected to the judge advocate, as a person disreputable in character, and actuated by feelings of hostility against himself. That functionary then threatened to commit Macarthur for contempt: Captain Anthony Fenn Kemp interposed, with a threat "to commit the judge advocate himself;" who, seeing among the spectators many soldiers wearing side-arms, and fearing for his personal safety, left the bench. Macarthur again appealled to his military brethren to preserve him from the ruffian constabulary: they immediately ordered the soldiers present to protect him against the peace officers. This interference was represented as an illegal rescue; Macarthur, however, surrendered to the provost marshal, and was lodged in gaol.

The governor resolved to bring to trial the six officers who had repelled the judge advocate, for treasonable practices; and, as a preliminary step, ordered that they should appear before the bench of magistrates, of whom Colonel Johnston, their commander, was one. It was now supposed, that Bligh intended to constitute a novel court of criminal jurisdiction, and that he had resolved to carry to the last extremes the hostility he had declared. Colonel Johnston, as a measure of self defence, was induced to march his regiment to government house, and place his Excellency under arrest—demanding his sword, and his commission as governor.[66]

This transaction throughout, caused a very strong sensation, both in the colony and at home. Opinions widely differ respecting its origin and its necessity. That it was illegal, it may be presumed, no one will deny: that it was wanton, is not so indisputable. The unfortunate termination of Bligh's first expedition to Tahiti, the imputations of harshness and cruelty for ever fastened to his name, and the disreputable agents he sometimes employed in his service, made the position of the officers extremely anxious, if not insecure. Bligh had become popular with the expiree settlers, who reckoned a long arrear of vengeance to their military taskmasters; and who, with the law on their side, or encouragement from the governor, might have been expected to shew no mercy. Had Bligh escaped to the interior, the personal safety of the officers might have been perilled. The settlers, led on by the undoubted representative of the crown, would have been able to justify any step necessary for the recovery of his authority, and at whatever sacrifice of life.

Bligh was permitted to embark on board the Porpoise[67], to proceed forthwith to Great Britain, engaging not to communicate with any intermediate British colony. He bound himself upon his honor as an officer and a gentlemen to attempt nothing to the disturbance of the existing government, pending the reference to Downing-street. This agreement he made with Colonel Paterson, who had no part in the revolt. When upon the quarter-deck of the Porpoise, he repudiated these engagements, and ordered Lieutenant Kent, then in command, to batter down Sydney, and to restore his authority by force;—a task he declined. He, however, sailed for the Derwent, where his vessel was still lying, when unknown to him Macquarie arrived in New South Wales. Bligh had dispatched information of the insurrection at the earliest opportunity, and the ministers lost no time in forwarding new troops. The ships approached the harbour, prepared to pour in a broadside, but the government was instantly delivered up to the newly appointed head, by Colonel Paterson, the officer in command. The greater part of his official acts were prudently confirmed by Governor Macquarie, although the gifts and appointments of the interim government were declared null and void.

When Bligh arrived at Hobart Town, he was received by Collins with the respect due to his station; he was, however, soon followed by despatches, which informed the lieutenant-governor of the movements at Sydney. Collins, Bligh stated, intended to arrest him; at all events he re-embarked, and the settlers were interdicted from holding communication. A free man, Mr. Belbin, was flogged for the infraction of this order, but afterwards received a grant from the crown in reward for his loyalty. Mr. George Guest espoused the same side: the vessel was ill-provisioned, and he secretly drove down his cattle to the beach, where some were slaughtered for the use of the Porpoise.

In extenuation of the conduct of Collins, it will be remembered that Bligh was already deposed, when he appeared in the Derwent; and that his attempted resumption of office was a breach of his parole. The impression prevailed that Bligh, if restored, would exact sanguinary vengeance. The union of the officers was requisite to preserve order, even in the most quiet times: when deprived of military authority, it was the moral duty of Bligh to await the interference of the supreme government, and not needlessly expose those whom he was unable to protect, to the double danger of disloyalty and faction.

Bligh returned to Port Jackson: though the time for his honorary restitution was passed, he was received with respectful formality. A proclamation had already been issued, prohibiting suits of law for injuries suffered from the usurping government, and giving indemnity and protection to all who had acted under its authority; but Bligh was empowered to carry home all who might be able to throw light on his deposition. This order must have terminated the government of Collins, had he survived. Colonel Johnstone was tried and cashiered (but permitted to sell his commission), and the mildness of his sentence was attributed by the crown to the extraordinary circumstance of the case.[68]

This was the last important occurrence in the eventful life of Collins: he died on the 24th March, 1810, in the fifty-sixth year of his age, having held the administration six years and thirty-six days. His death was sudden: except a slight cold, there was little warning of its approach. He died whilst sitting in his chair, and conversing with his attendant. His funeral was celebrated with all the pomp the colony could command, and 600 persons were present.[69] The share he accepted in the responsibility of the deposition of Bligh, disturbed his tranquillity, and it was thought hastened his end.

In 1810, Collins attempted to establish a newspaper—The Derwent Star, and Van Diemen's Land Intelligencer.[70] Though but a quarto leaf, with broad margin, and all the contrivances which dilate the substance of a journal, it was much too large for the settlement—where often there was nothing to sell; where a birth or marriage was published sooner than a paragraph could be printed; where a taste for general literature had no existence, and politics were excluded. The chief contents were droll anecdotes and odd exploits. The second number contains a rather pompous account of Governor Macquarie's inauguration at Sydney. The next issue, beside a government order or two, describes the feat of Barclay, the pedestrian—a thousand miles in a thousand hours; the wonderful longevity of Joseph Ram, a black of Jamaica, who died in his 140th year; then the greatness of Lambert, whose body weighed 52 lbs. fourteen times told; and who was sent by an inclined plane into his grave. Then follow an eulogy on the governor's profession, one trial, one ship, two births, and one marriage. The notice of a wedding is characteristic and unique—the first published by the Tasmanian press:—"On Monday, 26th ult., R. C. Burrows to Elizabeth Tucker, both late of Norfolk Island. They had cohabited together fourteen years, verifying at last the old adage—better late than never."[71] Such were the topics of this ephemeral journal, which, however, survived the governor himself. In the number published a few days before his decease, are the following lines:—

"And thou, dear Cobham, with thy latest breath Shall feel thy ruling passion strong in death: Such in that moment, as in all the past: 'O, save my country, heaven!' shall be thy last."

Collins was the son of General Arthur Tooker Collins and Harriet Fraser, of Pack, in King's County, Ireland: he was the grandson of Arthur Collins, author of the Peerage of England.[72] At fourteen years of age he was lieutenant of marines; two years after, he commanded the military guard which attended Matilda, Queen of Denmark, to her brother's Hanoverian dominions, and had the honor of kissing her hand. It is said that, three years subsequent, he distinguished himself in that fatal conflict already noticed—the battle of Bunker's Hill. In 1774, he was captain of marines in the Courageux, of 74 guns, commanded by Lord Mulgrave, and was present with Lord Howe, at the relief of Gibraltar. At the peace of 1782, he retired to Rochester, in Kent, with his lady, an American, who survived him. The despatch, announcing his decease, was filled with lamentations: "I am sure," said the writer, "when I speak the feelings of my heart on this melancholy occasion, that it is not my single voice, but that of every department whatsoever in the settlement, who with the most heartfelt regret acknowledge him to have been the father and the friend of all," His person was remarkably handsome, and his manners prepossessing: to a cultivated understanding, and an early fondness for literature, he joined a most cheerful and social disposition.

Colonel Collins was buried in the church-yard of St. David's, Hobart Town. To provide a temporary place for public worship, a small wooden church was erected on the spot, and its altar was reared over his grave. This building was blown down in a tempest, and its materials being carried off, left the resting place of Collins long exposed to the careless tread of the stranger. Sir John Franklin, always generous to the memory of official worth, reared a monument, bearing this inscription:—

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION III

On the demise of Colonel Collins, the government devolved on Lieutenant Edward Lord, until the arrival of Captain Murray, of the 73rd regiment.

The governor-in-chief visited Van Diemen's Land during Captain Murray's administration. This auspicious event was the subject of great exultation. Macquarie was received with all possible formality and tokens of gladness: a salute from a battery of no great power; an illumination in the small windows of the scattered cottages; and addresses delivered by delegates, not bound to declare the number of their constituents.[74]

Nothing remarkable is remembered of this visit, except that Macquarie traced the future city. He complained of the utter neglect of right lines in the erection of dwellings, which advanced or retreated according to the whim of the builder. The centre of the projected town he called St. George's Square: in this he intended to rear a church and town hall, and the quarters of the main guard: the open space he designed for a market. The streets which intersect each other he called by the names which still distinguish them: Liverpool-street after the minister of that name; Macquarie-street after himself; Elizabeth-street in honor of his lady; Argyle-street, of their native country; and Murray-street in compliment to the officer in command. The plan sketched by Macquarie has not been absolutely followed, nor has it been improved. He ordered the erection of a signal staff on Mount Nelson, named after the vessel which brought him to port, and conveyed him safely to Port Jackson. The settlers on the Derwent expressed a fervent admiration of his devotedness in thus venturing to face the dangers of the visit; especially accompanied by his consort—so they distinguished Mrs. Macquarie. The governor merited their gratitude, for his hand was liberal.[75]

In February, 1812, Colonel Geils became acting Lieutenant-Governor, and remained until the arrival of Colonel Davey. Colonel Geils devoted great attention to agricultural pursuits, and first formed at Risdon a considerable farming establishment. Ordered to India with the troops under his command, he forwarded his youthful sons to the Cape of Good Hope, thence to be conveyed to England. The colonists heard soon after with deep commiseration, that the vessel in which they re-embarked was lost.

Colonel Davey, the second Governor of Van Diemen's Land, arrived on the 4th February, 1813. His manner of entrance indicated the peculiarity of his character, for the weather being warm he carried his coat on his arm, and announced himself at the house where he sought temporary accommodations: nor did his subsequent administration differ from its unceremonious beginning. He took pleasure in practical jokes and rough humour: his countenance was strongly marked, and, by a peculiar motion of the scalp, he delighted to throw his forehead into comical contortions. He shared in common a taste for spirituous liquors, and was not unwilling to participate wherever he was welcome as a guest. On what principle he was selected to conduct the affairs of a remote and reformatory settlement, it would be useless to conjecture. As a marine, he had been present in many important actions; among the rest, at the battle of Trafalgar. His intended departure from England he concealed from his family, by whom it was discovered accidentally: they reached the vessel by extraordinary exertions, and in neglect of all the usual preparations for the voyage. The ship which conveyed his luggage was taken by the Americans, during the war—for him a fortunate loss: indemnified by the largest grant ever conferred in this island (3,000 acres); for it was not pretended that the captors could have made an extensive prize.

Mrs. Davey, a lady of a meek and uncomplaining spirit, is spoken of with respect, and the governor himself with kindness; for under a rough exterior was concealed a generous disposition.

During Davey's government, two hundred female prisoners were brought down from Sydney, in the brig Kangaroo: proclamation was made, and the settlers were invited to receive them. There was little delicacy of choice: they landed, and vanished; and some carried into the bush, changed their destination before they reached their homes. Yet such is the power of social affections, several of these unions yielded all the ordinary consolations of domestic life!

The conveniences of civilisation were not wholly neglected. The ports were opened for general commerce (June, 1813): houses of trade were established, and Messrs. Kemp and Gatehouse, Messrs. E. Lord and J. H. Reibey, supplied the colony with English goods: the most necessary articles had often been wanting. The settlers purchased even the clothing of the prisoners, as preferable to the skins of animals by which they were often clad.

The resources of the colony were developed: Mr. Birch, an enterprising merchant, fitted out a vessel to survey the western coasts (1816), and Captain Kelly discovered Macquarie Harbour and Port Davey: Captain Florence found a new species of pine, very highly valued by artificers. Mr. Birch was rewarded with one year's monopoly of the trade he had opened.

The whale fishery was considerably enlarged: corn was exported; the plough introduced, and gradually superseded the hoe; a mill erected; and (February, 1817) the foundation of St. David's Church was laid. Passage boats connected the banks of the Derwent; a civil court for the recovery of debts, not exceeding £50, was established. A newspaper—a second time attempted in 1814 without success, when the commercial strength of the community was indicated by two or three advertisements—was at length published under better auspices. On the 1st June, 1816, Mr. Andrew Bent issued the first number of the Hobart Town Gazette and Southern Reporter, and thus brought into permanent action an agency which has promoted as well as recorded the advancement of the community. Nor can it be recollected without regret, that he, an undoubted benefactor of the colony, is left to an indigent old age, cut off from the prosperity to which his early labors contributed.

The welfare of Van Diemen's Land was greatly retarded by the number, daring, and prolonged depredations of the bushrangers. In some districts, the inhabitants offered a sanctuary to criminals, and, as their scouts, gave notice of the approach of danger; while in others the settlers were driven before them. To check their ravages, Colonel Davey declared the whole colony under martial law: he punished with flogging persons, whether free or bond, who quitted their houses by night. Several offenders were captured, and suffered death.[76] The inhabitants, to the number of six hundred, expressed their approval of this stretch of power, but it was promptly disallowed by the governor-in-chief. On many previous occasions the same course had been pursued. To constitutional law, the lieutenant-governor was both indifferent and a stranger.

Colonel Davey, when he relinquished his office, remained for some time as a settler; he was not, however, successful. He returned to England, where he died on the 2nd May, 1823. His contemporaries speak of his character in terms of eulogy. The modern colonist will remember, that the tastes of society have since that period been modified, even in Great Britain; and that character can never be fairly judged when separated from the circumstances in which it is developed. Then, the town was a mere camp: the etiquette of office, necessary when a community is advanced, would be folly in its infancy.

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION IV

In planting the colony of New South Wales, it was requisite to provide a form of government adapted for a community without precedent. That instituted was equally alien from established usage. It conferred powers on the governor beyond the dreams of ordinary princes, and violated all the constitutional guarantees which support the rights of subjects. The American colonies derived their constitutions, some from the prerogatives of the crown, others from parliament, under acts prescribing their structure and limiting their jurisdiction. In some cases the British legislature authorised the crown to convey the powers of government at its own discretion, and its own agents. In the reign of George III.[77] the parliament passed the Quebec Act, which defined the powers of Canadian legislation and judicature, and thus established a course that has never since been abandoned.

The immediate design and composition of the Australian colony precluded the forms of constitutional freedom: the object of the laws and regulations were but remotely connected with the ordinary interests of British citizens. Having obtained, therefore, the authority to institute a government, the crown put into commission the powers it received, but left to the local authorities to interpret and apply them.[78]

The court of criminal jurisdiction was composed of seven officers, of whom the judge advocate was one. It could only assemble on the summons of the governor: his precept determined who, or whether any should sit, and thus regulated the jury: as their commander his influence was great—greater, as the dispenser of royal patronage.

The powers of the grand jury devolved on the judge advocate, who framed the indictment, and determined beforehand the probability of guilt: he thus sat in a cause which he had judged already. The prosecutor conducted his own case: witnesses were examined in open court, and the accused was unassisted by counsel. Nor was unanimity required: yet five in seven were necessary in capital cases, to authorise an immediate execution. The judge advocate deliberated with his co-jurors in secret, and the court was re-opened only when they had agreed upon their verdict, and determined the sentence. Thus in ordinary cases the weight of authority in deciding guilt, as well as apportioning punishment, usually rested with an officer officially connected with the government. The operation of this court was liable to serious constitutional objections. It was in the power of the governor to exclude the subject from the protection of the law, by shutting up the court, and by the arbitrary selection of its members to anticipate its decision.

In conducting the business of the court, its members dispensed with the niceties of law, and gave their verdict upon what appeared to be the substantial merits of the case. From the age of fourteen, the first judge advocate had been employed in the royal marine service, and whatever intelligence his writings display, they exhibit utter disregard of rights recognised by the British constitution. His successors in office, for two-and-twenty years, until the appointment of Mr. Ellis Bent, were gentlemen connected with the military profession, who were unassisted, except by such lawyers as the lottery of transportation threw in their way: thus, while they were limited by parliament to a jurisdiction according to the laws of the realm,[79] they were more than usually unacquainted with their nature, and indifferent to their observance.

Such were the inherent defects of this form of judicature, from the large influence possessed by the executive; which could determine the time of sitting and the members of the court; which denied the right of challenge, and accepted the concurrence of five voices only in cases of life and death—and those of persons subject to the influence of the governor and unaccustomed to weigh evidence, or to defer to the maxims of civil tribunals. But if the constitution of the court was a subject of just complaint, the creation of new offences by unauthorised legislation, was still less acceptable to English statists.

The court proceeded smoothly, so long as none but convicts or persons of trivial influence were in question; but the dispute with Governor Bligh disclosed the dangers with which it was fraught: the sympathy of the jurors with the accused frustrated his prosecution, and overthrew the executive.

The esprit du corps of the jurors occasionally appeared in their verdict: the decision of a cause in which an officer was the aggressor, or one which interested the passions, did not command the confidence of the people.

The jeopardy of justice was illustrated by a dispute, in which the Rev. Mr. Marsden was complainant, and the secretary of the governor the defendant. Mr. Campbell was the censor of the New South Wales press: he admitted an article, which imputed to Mr. Marsden (1817) the abuse of his office as agent for the missionary societies, and of using muskets and gunpowder as articles of traffic with the natives of the Pacific. The judge advocate in this instance was said to attempt to shelter the offender by the influence of his three-fold office—as the law adviser of the governor, the public prosecutor, and member of the court of criminal jurisdiction. His reluctance to admit the evidence, and to take the preliminary steps in the prosecution, and his direction to deliver an inoperative verdict, were held fatal evidences that impartiality could not be secured by uniting functions so inconsistent with each other.

The jurors were not unfrequently interested: in some instances the prosecutor sat as witness and judge, giving the principal evidence in the case in which he was both to decide the guilt and apportion the punishment.[80]

The establishment of a court of criminal jurisdiction was alone authorised by the parliament: the necessity for supplemental laws was not foreseen, but was soon perceived. The governors assumed the legislative authority, under the disguise of orders and regulations, often contrary to the principles of English law, and sustained by penalties unknown in Great Britain. These were not collated until a late period: their provisions were imperfectly promulgated. In enforcing them, the governors relied on the impotence of resistance, and justified their enactment on the ground of expediency.

Had the parliament conveyed a legislative power, the ordinary precautions and limitations would have been embodied for that purpose: thus the free subjects of the king would have known the extent of their liabilities, both to prohibitions and penalties. An unfettered despotism drew no distinction, but rejected all questions of legality as contumacious.

Among the subordinate officers, were some high in rank, natives of France, who had emigrated during the revolution, or had by incurring the hatred of its government deserved the patronage of our own. Profoundly indifferent to the rights of freedom, and ignorant of the forms or proper subjects of judicial investigation, an "order" was far more sacred in their eyes, than the volumes of Blackstone. English gentlemen might have recalled the solemn warnings of history which check aggressions on private liberty, but an exiled adherent of Bourbon princes was not likely to be embarrassed by educational prejudices. Not that British officers were really more scrupulous, or offered by their habits a better guarantee for the legality of their administration.[81]

The minor offences of prisoners passed under the summary adjudication of magistrates. They often indulged in the lowest humour or furious passion: they applied torture to extract confessions, and repeated flagellation until it became dangerous to life.

The long delay of legislative remedies, when omissions and defects were discovered, is a proof of ministerial indifference. The crown provided a court of criminal jurisdiction for Port Phillip: the jurisdiction was strictly local, and the judge advocate ceased to act when Van Diemen's Land was occupied; but twenty years elapsed before the deficiency was supplied. Again, the criminal court of New South Wales was limited to islands adjacent to the eastern coast.[82] The discovery of Bass's Strait proved that Van Diemen's Land was not included in this geographical definition, and the scrupulous or idle judges for a long time evaded the holding of courts in this island, which was thus surrendered to disorder. In the absence of a legal court, the magistrates set up a jurisdiction of their own. Criminal trials were dispatched by the simplest process, and the mixed penalties of a military and civil court inflicted on the assumed offender.[83] Thus, the negligent provision for the administration of justice secured impunity to crime, or seemed to require an arbitrary tribunal.

The proclamation of martial law, was to relieve the government from the restraints of forms. The facility with which justice could be administered by it, was illustrated at the Castle Hill insurrection: no life being lost on the government side, the victorious troops arranged that every third man convicted should be hanged. They drew the names of the sufferers by lot, and were proceeding with great vigour, when the appearance of the governor suspended the execution.[84] The dangerous usurpation in both Norfolk Island and Van Diemen's Land, led to the hasty sacrifice of life.

The scarcity of corn was once deemed a sufficient justification, when there was no appearance of sedition: at these times the government seized boats, or whatever was deemed useful for the public service, and imitated the most irregular actions of the Stuarts.

The subordinate authorities were supposed to partake the license of their superiors. One commandant, Colonel Geils, fixed a spiked collar on the neck of a free woman; another flogged a female through Hobart Town for abusive language; and another tied up a free man on the spot, for placarding a grievance, when as yet there was no press.[85] Davey, having ordered a person to the triangles, answered his remonstrances with a pleasant jest: the sufferer reminded him that he could not flog him; the governor answered that "he would try," and the flagellator soon determined the problem in favor of authority. Indignant exclamations of free men were deemed preposterous by a body of officials, who regarded the diffidence of civil government as absurd, and considered power as the standard of right.

The administration of justice is described by a work of the times:—"I have known," wrote a contemporary witness, "men, without trial, sentenced to transportation by a single magistrate at his own door: free men, after being acquitted by a court of criminal judicature, banished to another of the dependant settlements. I have heard a magistrate tell a prisoner (then being examined for a capital offence, and who had some goods, supposed to be stolen, for which he would not account), that were he not going to be hanged so soon, he (the magistrate) would make him say whence he got them. I have known depositions destroyed by the magistrate."[86]

The courts were limited by the laws in force within the realm, but the realm was not defined;[87] and thus what portion of the law was applicable, was left in thirty years' doubt, until the commissioner royal stated that the omission had prevented several executions.[88] The same number of years were required to ascertain whether laws passed in Great Britain subsequent to the era of colonisation were the laws of the colony.

Law officers of the crown were permitted to define authoritatively the import of acts of parliament, and on their official decisions the colonial judge convicted, and the governor executed a criminal.[89]

The persons commissioned as justices constituted a court in avowed conformity with such tribunals in England, but they adjudicated on the orders of the governor, and inflicted the penalties he appointed; though the supreme court, sitting concurrently with these "benches," rejected the legislation of the governor as invalid, when the basis of an action: one judge supported them by his moral countenance, although he knew them to be without legal authority.[90] Judge Advocate Wylde, however, declared the legislative authority of the governor equally binding with acts of parliament—a doctrine never surpassed by the most subservient advocates of an unlimited monarchy.[91]

The crown authorised the governor to grant remissions, but while he omitted the formalities requisite to perfect those pardons, the minister neglected to require them. For thirty years the error was undetected, and until a fraudulent creditor evaded a bill due to an emancipist; but several years were allowed to pass, even when the mistake was discovered, before it was fully corrected.

The ministers authorised the governors to grant land to settlers. For forty-six years these delegates divided the domain of their sovereign, as if it were his personal property, and without the consent of parliament, when a court of this colony decided that all such titles were void in law, whether acquired by purchase or under the old quit-rent tenure.[92]

Above two hundred thousand pounds had been levied by successive governors since the illegality of taxation was first submitted to the notice of the cabinet. In gathering this money, not only had property been seized, destroyed, and confiscated, but many persons had been imprisoned, and suffered all the miseries of felon bonds: yet when arrears, which the indulgence of the government had permitted to accumulate, were made a subject of legal procedure, the whole fabric of taxation and legislation by the governor's will, fell down.[93]

The judge of the supreme court could not be insensible to the serious personal responsibility of longer supporting illegal taxation: he privately admonished the governor, who withdrew his actions. An act of indemnity released the ministers who advised, and the governors who enforced their demands, from the punishment of usurpation; and granted them power to do by law, what in defiance of law they had done so long.[94]

Ingenious aggravations were made to the common penalties of a crime: Collins relates that a witness convicted of perjury, was condemned to the pillory: his ears nailed to the post as an additional punishment.[95]

The courts of those times confounded everything together, and deciding the perjury of a witness, often tried two parties at the same moment. Flogging witnesses was an ordinary result of investigations, when they did not end in convictions: so late as 1823, Judge Wylde ordered a witness to be taken outside, and receive instanter one hundred lashes.[96]

The long privation of this colony of judicial protection, not only hindered the due administration of justice, but encouraged imprudence and fraud. In the year 1814, when the crown erected a supreme court at Sydney for the decision of civil causes, Major Abbot, a member of the New South Wales corps, was commissioned as deputy judge advocate in Van Diemen's Land. He adjudicated in petty session as a magistrate, and by the accommodation of law to the circumstances of the colony, dealt in a summary manner with capital offences where prisoners were concerned. Thus sheep stealing and crimes against the person, committed by prisoners, were punished by flogging, and removal to a more penal station; and thus, while a prisoner of the crown might escape with a milder sentence, free persons for similar offences were placed in jeopardy of their lives.

"The experiment of a reformatory penal colony," said Sir James Mackintosh, "is the grandest ever tried; but New South Wales is governed on principles of political economy more barbarous than those which prevailed under Queen Bess."[97] This great statesman, who declared no provincial sphere seemed to him so worthy a noble ambition, as to become the legislator for these colonies, never failed to denounce the accumulation of illegality and folly.

At this stage of our inquiry, it may be proper to scan this singular government. The legislators who authorised its establishment, prescribed as little as possible: all beyond the repression of crime was hidden from their eyes. They saw that punishments must be necessary, and provided for their infliction; but the complicated arrangements which grew out of the colonisation, were left to the adjustment of chance, or the discrimination of ministers, and ultimately to the caprice of naval and military governors.

The extemporary character of their contrivance and expedients, is sufficiently apparent. Nothing was expected: nothing was dreaded: no checks were opposed to abuses. Thus acts of tyranny were perpetrated beyond the ordinary excesses of arbitrary governments, and all classes were confounded in one regimen of despotism. The commencing measures manifested their indifference to personal rights. Intending to banish men for life, the ministers selected for the first fleet chiefly persons whose crimes only forfeited their freedom for a few years. By withholding, or neglecting to forward lists of their names, their crimes, or their sentences, they consigned them not only to perpetual exile but protracted and illegal bondage. Imitating the ministers of the crown, the governor imposed compulsory labor on free men, or detained them when their liberation was notoriously due.

Thus again, law had conveyed power to the king to deliver prisoners by assignment to shippers, but jealous of trusting the executive, the actual transportation could only be carried out as the result of a covenant with private persons. Regardless of these well-advised precautions, the ministers delivered prisoners to ships of war, in custody of captains in the royal navy, bound to obey the orders of the crown; and when loud remonstrances induced them to obtain a legislative sanction to the innovation, they were silent in reference to the past, and trusted in their party influence to protect their own agents from legal penalties.[98] No wonder, with such examples before them, the governors detained or released at their pleasure.

Bentham was the first to protest against this illegal and violent system of government, as opposed to every principle made sacred by the Revolution, by judicial decisions, or by the oaths of sovereigns. He asserted that the movers and ministers of these despotic proceedings were liable, one and all, to the visitations of the most penal laws.[99] They had legislated without warrant, had detained free persons in bondage, levied illegal duties and imposed unconstitutional restrictions, and had inflicted cruel punishments for crimes invented by themselves. The apology for usurpation, was its obvious importance and general utility; but no one will dissent from the strong indignation expressed by the philosopher, at wanton violations of British law, neglect of personal rights and parliamentary privileges.

Governor King, it is believed, first established customs.[100] Hunter had assessed the property of the colonists, upon obtaining the consent of several, for the erection of a gaol.[101] The poorer inhabitants refused to comply with the levy, and were threatened with vengeance: they knew that however useful, such taxes were illegal though otherwise just. Thus, although legislation was not shadowed by the parliamentary act, the governors assumed it in its amplest form. Among the earliest were orders respecting the production and sale of spirits: to this, the oriental penalty was attached—"his still shall be destroyed, and his house pulled down." Infraction of this law was subsequently punished by imprisonment and transportation.

Of torture, to extort confession, we have ample proof, both written and traditional: of one Collins observes, "when he trifled he was punished again; he then declared that the plunder was buried. He went to the spot, but could not find it; he was then taken to the hospital." Another was tortured in the same form; but, adds the judge, "the constancy of the wretched man was astonishing:"[102] he was in consequence acquitted! This practice continued for twenty years, and in 1825 a prosecution was instituted against a magistrate for attempting to extract confession by torture.

The tendency of undefined power to run into tyranny, is illustrated by Macquarie himself. He had prohibited the entrance of strangers within the government grounds, and to detect the offenders stationed constables on the spot, who lay in ambush: three men and two servant girls were captured and committed. The next morning, the men each received twenty-five lashes, by the written order of the governor: the women were detained in the cells for forty-eight hours. There was no appeal to law; and the sole actors were the governor and the gaoler. A process so simple was no longer to be tolerated: the public were alarmed.[103] The assumption of magisterial powers was not compatible with the office of the governor; but to authorise the flagellation of free men without trial, for a perhaps innocent trespass, was both dangerous and unjust.

This was, perhaps, the last instance of such extravagant despotism, and it exposed Macquarie to much inquietude during his life. That a person so humane in his general character should forget the precautions due in equity and in law, and punish arbitrarily for imaginary offences, proved that no power is safely bestowed, unless its objects and extent are minutely defined.

The civil, called the "Governor's Court," was instituted by George III. in virtue of his prerogative. It consisted of the judge advocate, and two inhabitants chosen by the governor: it was empowered to decide in a summary manner all pleas in relation to property and contracts, and it granted probates of wills.

When convicts contracted pecuniary obligations, the governor specially withdrew them from liability to arrest; and told the creditors that in trusting these debtors their opinion of their honesty must be their sole guarantee: government could not spare "the servants of the public" from their toils to answer the plaints of suitors.[104]

From its decisions, a cause could be carried to the governor; and in sums exceeding £300, to the king in council.

Though unsanctioned by an act of parliament, this court departed widely from the practice of England. Its authority was keenly disputed by Bentham; and Commissioner Bigge, in stating its origin and operation, hints a similar doubt.[105]

Undisturbed by objections the crown, by the patents and commissions of 1814, separated the criminal jurisdiction from the civil, and created a supreme court, which adopted the English practice. By the new patent, an appeal was permitted from the supreme court to the "High Court of Appeals," consisting of the governor and the judge advocate; and, except when £3,000 were in issue, his judgment was final![106] To both these tribunals the Tasmanians were amenable; but in civil cases the appointment (1814) of a local court under the deputy judge advocate, terminated the absolute dependence on Port Jackson for judicial relief. Plaints for debts not exceeding £50 were entertained by this court, and creditors contrived to bring their claims within its jurisdiction, by dividing the amount into bills of £50. This evasion of the law, although it defeated the intention of a superior court and lessened its business, was useful to both parties; it decreased the difficulty and expenses of suits. It was more equitable in its operation than the supreme court: the owner of a vessel could carry up his own witnesses to Sydney, and at the termination of a trial convey them home without delay; but the less opulent debtor or creditor found himself practically excluded from redress.

Mr. Judge Abbot was, however, not eager to assume his office, and it was not until 1816 that he commenced operations. The accumulation of debts must have been great, for at his first session fourteen hundred plaints were entered: nor did he exhaust the suitors by delay, for eleven hundred were disposed of during that year. Two inhabitants, chosen by the governor sat as assessors; and being known, and knowing all parties, they often discussed in private beforehand the causes awaiting their verdict![107]

The deputy judge advocate held in contempt the net-work of the law, by which equitable rights are sometimes entangled: his was a court of request without appeal, and he took pleasure in asserting its finality. For the convenience of suitors he allowed agents to practice in his court: these gentlemen had somewhat more legal knowledge than the judge, and often exasperated his antipathies by its ostentation. They would dwell on the dignity of his court: his decision was irrevocable; even the lord chancellor of England, they would say, was subject to the revision of a still higher court than his own, but the deputy judge advocate decided the cause for ever. Trusted with such resistless jurisdiction—such onerous responsibility, how great must be his care to avoid an error beyond correction—an injustice that could not be undone but by an act of parliament! Such were their addresses: occasionally heard with complacency—and, it is said, not always unsuccessful. The most famous of these practitioners were Messrs. R. L. Murray and Evan Henry Thomas. The last gentleman was an emigrant, and issued a rhetorical advertisement for employment as a preceptor; but renouncing that calling, he provided himself with a blue bag, the sole qualification essential, and paraded the vicinity of the court: here some suitor found him. What he wanted in experience he made up by industry; and thus carrying his cause, established his reputation as a pleader.

Abbott was a lover of fair play: when one of these gentlemen stated a cause, he expressed a wish that the other side could be placed in as clear a light. Willing to show how well he comprehended the case, the agent for the plaintiff set before the court what the defendant might allege; and Abbott, admitting its force, determined in his favor! The equitable judge decided that the plaintiff should pay the defendant the unsought balance of his bill.

On such a primitive plan were minor rights protected. Although the decisions were often grounded on imperfect proof, the substantial equity of Abbott's adjudications was rarely questioned. In cases under £5 the court received no fee, but in higher causes a small sum was paid. The agents obtained what they could, as the recompense of their professional toils.

Major Abbott continued to preside as deputy judge advocate, until his office was abolished. After visiting England he returned to Launceston with the appointment of civil commandant. He died in 1832: the inhabitants spontaneously honored his funeral. He was esteemed as a person of a generous nature and upright intentions. Major Abbott entered the army at the age of thirteen: he was in the service of the crown fifty-three years, forty-three of which were spent in the colonies.

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION V

William Sorell, Esq., third Lieutenant-governor, landed 8th April, 1817. To restore safety to the colony was the first duty of the governor: on his assumption of office he called the inhabitants together, and enabled by their subscriptions he offered large rewards, and thus inspirited both the soldiers and the constables. In less than three months the greater portion of the bushrangers were destroyed or captured. During Sorell's administration the colony suffered no serious disturbance from outlaws. This display of rigour was followed by judicious precautions: he ascertained more frequently the distribution and employment of the prisoners of the crown, and removed many temptations to disorder and crime.

It was the practice, established first a few months after his arrival, to muster the whole population annually. Notice was sent through the districts, requiring the attendance of the several classes, who accounted for their families and their stock: the name, the residence, and civil condition of every inhabitant became known. Sorell thus ascertained the increase of cultivation and cattle, and whatever indicated progress.

The landing of settlers direct from Great Britain was an important event: their efforts were experiments, and their achievements were prophetic. The political philosopher may trace in their errors, trials, and successes, the lessons afforded by experience for the instruction of nations. The rapid advance of modern colonisation tends to underrate the first efforts of our predecessors. The first colonial boat-builder founded a great commercial navy; the first shepherd held in his slender flock a treasure of unimaginable worth.

The arrival of many emigrants led to the exploration of the country. The hunters were usually the pioneers, but beyond the general features of the scenery, they afforded little information: wild cattle were the better guides. To provide a settlement for strangers, Sorell explored the region lying between the Shannon and the Clyde to its junction with the Derwent; free from timber, and within twenty miles of navigable waters. At this district were located several distinguished settlers.

The narrow grants and wretched homesteads of the emancipist cotters, the sole farmers at the time of this immigration, presented but little to please. The settler, whose imagination pictured the rustic beauties and quiet order of an English farm, saw unfenced fields of grain, deformed with blackened stumps: a low cottage of the meanest structure,[108] surrounded by heaps of wool, bones, and sheepskins; harrows and water carts amidst firewood; mutton and kangaroo strung on the branches of trees; idle and uncleanly men, of different civil condition but of one class; tribes of dogs and natives. No green hedges or flowery meadows, or notes of the thrush or nightingale; but yet there was the park-like lands, the brilliant skies, the pure river; and, above all, the untainted breath of the morning.

In 1820, there were only two estates, those of Mr. E. Lord and Colonel Davey, on which fences were erected; and the destructive incursions of cattle were subjects of many complaints: yet in that year £20,000 had been obtained for wheat exported to Sydney. The first crops were prolific: the early settlers chose the more fertile and open plains; and many selected sites for their dwellings on natural lawns of surpassing beauty.

The dispatch of vessels direct from England rapidly increased the population: in one year (1822) six hundred settlers entered the port, and by the capital which they invested, and the habits of decency and enterprise they exhibited, gave a new tone to the colony. A succession of publications drew attention at home to the capabilities of Van Diemen's Land. It was described in the Quarterly Review (May, 1820) by a friendly pen, which stated that during three years, a detachment of one hundred men had not lost three, and that Hobart Town had been sixteen months without a funeral.

The work of Lieutenant Jeffries, who spent several months in a passage from Sydney to Van Diemen's Land, and who wrote much in praise of the native women, and the pleasures of a bush life, drew a pleasing picture. The more sober sketch of Captain Dixon, and the copious delineations of Mr. Wentworth, directed the public curiosity to Tasmania. For several successive years new books were published, describing the fertility of the soil and the beauty of the climate. These generally contained a theory of pastoral increase—a geometrical progression towards wealth. The increase was, indeed, rapid beyond oriental precedent. Between 1810 and 1820, it was estimated at fifty fold.[109] The adaptation of these colonies for the growth of wool first drew the attention of several gentlemen of Hamburgh, whose importations afterwards promoted the improvement of our flocks.

The position of Van Diemen's Land favored its settlement. Vessels bound to Port Jackson often touched at the Derwent to discharge portions of their cargo; and weary with the length of the voyage, emigrants listened to the persuasions of the colonists, and the hints of the lieutenant-governor himself.

The advantages offered to settlers, so late as 1818, included not only grants of land, but loans of stock and seed; and a price for wheat, long standing at 10s. per bushel, and for meat 6d. per lb. The settlers were entitled to rations for themselves and their convict servants for six months. It was stipulated that the stock should be replaced by the increase, and the wheat repaid at the harvest. Such engagements were, however, rarely fulfilled. No suits could be prosecuted by the crown in the local court, and vague threats of disfavor were the only means of recovery: these were understood as formalities. The crown, by the prohibition of distillation, prevented a consumption of grain, and until a fixed price was given corn had been sometimes of no value whatever. A partial market was assured, to prevent the total neglect of agriculture. The patronage, of course, led to official corruption: many officers received wheat from their servants in commutation of labor, and some of more than usual inferiority was thus admitted by a Launceston commandant, a refugee Frenchman, who threatened to transport the storekeeper for calling in question its quality. The Commissioner Bigge recommended the bounty should be entirely abolished, distillation permitted, and supplies purchased by tender. A deficiency could be no longer apprehended. There were 7,400 inhabitants, at the close of 1821, who possessed 15,000 cultivated acres, 35,000 horned cattle, 170,000 sheep, 550 horses, and 5,000 swine. With such resources, the danger of famine finally disappeared.

The herds were composed chiefly of Bengal cattle, imported at an early period; but the emigrants introduced the most valued of the English breeds, which have entirely supplanted the early stock. The herbage and the climate are equally favorable to the increase of cattle.

The interior of the country being quiet, tickets of occupation were granted to settlers, who were enabled to establish large herds and flocks on the lands of the crown. The scarcity of provision in New South Wales soon created a considerable demand for the produce of this country, and in 1820 meat, to the value of £10,000, was purchased by the crown for exportation.[110]

Macquarie, when his administration was drawing to a close, came on a tour of inspection to Van Diemen's Land. He arrived in the Midas. The squally weather, which prevented his immediate landing, gave time to prepare for his reception. He disembarked on the 24th April, 1821, saluted from the battery, and by the military, who lined the road to the government house. At his former visit in 1810, the population did not exceed 1,500. A few scattered and miserable huts, separated by thoroughfares but half recovered from the forests, then constituted the capital, which had now acquired something of an English aspect: there were 426 houses, and 2,700 souls.

Few scenes are more pleasing than those which, assisted by memory, display the growth and triumph of industry. The gratification of all parties was visible, and a general illumination closed the day. It was a day of pardons and bounty: when the prisoner received his liberty and the settler his heritage: every inhabitant who had no plaint to prefer, had yet thanks to pay. The bachelors of Hobart Town gave a public ball to the governor: one hundred and fifty sat down to supper, and the gentlemen danced together until the morning.

On the 29th June, Macquarie sailed in the Caroline: he was accompanied to the water's edge by a large concourse of people, and carried with him applauses which his amiable vanity prized, and which his beneficence deserved.

Macquarie inserted in the Sydney Gazette the details of his progress, and observations. Whatever he described, he lauded: the architectural taste of the private buildings; the handsome church; the commodious military barracks; the strong gaol; the well constructed hospital. The enterprise and industry of the people; their spacious harbour; their battery, signal post and pier—are all distinguished with the minuteness of an auctioneer's catalogue, and nearly in its phrases.

During his progress he gave names, among which many remain memorials of his love of country: Staffa Ulra, and Olmaig; Perth, Campbell Town, Oatlands, Strathallen Creek, Roseneath. The townships of Sorell, Brighton and Elizabeth, were designated by him: the last in honor of his wife. His own name is found everywhere.

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION VI

The Australian colonies owe their pastoral wealth originally to Captain John Macarthur, of the 102nd regiment: he was assisted by the enterprise of Captain Waterhouse, of the royal navy, who, though a sailor and confessedly ignorant of pastoral affairs, conveyed to the colony the stock which laid the foundation of its fortunes. The sheep brought by the first fleet to New South Wales, were sacrificed to the necessities of the time: the cattle strayed, and were discovered long after grazing on the Nepean, increased to many hundreds. Several efforts were made by the New South Wales Corps to introduce a stock, chiefly for the knife; but the transmission was attended with considerable difficulty, and the greater portion died.

The basis of the New South Wales flocks was the Bengal: these, bearing hair, were mixed with sheep originally from Holland, and imported from the Cape. Mr. Macarthur having obtained some sheep from Ireland,[111] remarked the great, though accidental improvement in the fleece, which exhibited a mixture of wool, and gave the first hint of a great possible improvement. He then requested Captain Kent to procure sheep from the merino flocks of Colonel Gordon, at the Cape. These were forwarded by Captain Waterhouse (1797), who delivered to Macarthur three rams and five ewes, and retained a proportion himself.

The results surpassed expectation. The flocks of Bengal yielded to three or four crossings, and produced the finest wool. Thus the heaviest fleece, in 1801, was 3½ lbs.: the next season it improved to 5 lbs. The ewe produced wool worth 9d., her lamb's wool was valued at 3s.; and even the merino improved by the exchange of climate: its wool produced at the Cape being worth 4s. 6d., and at New South Wales 6s. The rate of increase was not less encouraging: the produce of fifty ewes, in seven years, was two thousand.

In 1803, Captain Macarthur visited England, and presented a memorial to the lords of the committee of the privy council on the pastoral capabilities of New South Wales. He requested the crown to grant the use of public lands and servants, and offered to supply the commissariat at a given price, and to sustain the entire risk or loss of his experiment. The statement of increase was doubted: the testimony respecting the quality of wool could not be disputed, as Macarthur had procured the certificates of eminent manufacturers. It was, however, asserted that the natural pasture would be unable to subsist flocks, and it was necessary to combat this objection. Macarthur proposed to sell his flock at their value to a company, and on credit; on condition that the company procured a grant from the crown for pasture. This was declined; but Lord Camden was requested by their lordships to encourage Macarthur, and he received in consequence permission to occupy the cow pastures, where natural fences prevented the intermixture of his flocks. A grant of 5,000 acres—ultimately of an additional 5,000—was made to him. Never was a reward more justly due, or given with less sacrifice.[112]

Mr. Macarthur procured from the royal flock at Kew, one ewe and nine rams:[113] with these he raised his flock to 6,000 (1818), and frequently sold pure merino rams at from £14 to £28 per head.

The merino stock of George III., from which the Australian stocks were partly drawn, was sent to that monarch by the Spanish cortes. The king's love of rural pleasures was thus instrumental in adding immense wealth to his empire.

It was not until 1820, that settlers of Van Diemen's Land entered the career of improvement. The original stock were introduced by Colonel Paterson: a mixture of Teeswater, Leicester, and Bengal breeds. The lieutenant-governor was anxious to improve the quality by an importation of merino lambs. By an engagement with Macarthur, three hundred were shipped at Sydney;[114] but more than one-third died: the rest were distributed to the settlers by lot, who gave the engagements to repay at the stipulated sum, and who received facilities for the experiment in suitable tickets of occupation. Macarthur received, at 7s. 6d. per acre, 4,368 acres of land for the 300 lambs, valued to the crown at £5 per head.[115] From this date the wool of the Tasmanian flocks became known to commerce.

Van Diemen's Land wool was not an article of export until 1819. Only 71,000 pounds had been sent to London from New South Wales, but some had realised even 7s. 6d. per lb.; in one instance 10s., it is said, by a friendly competition: a sum three times greater than the English price of the finest continental wool. A specimen had been manufactured for George IV., and which so pleased him that he directed Sir J. Bloomfield to enquire if more could be obtained in England. There seemed now no hesitation in giving credit to Macarthur's prediction, that the boundless pastures of New South Wales would relieve the manufacturers of dependence on Spain.

That great encouragement had not been afforded, and greater progress accomplished, may be considered surprising. The wool of commerce was still inconsiderable; although the flocks of both colonies amounted to 200,000. Before the merino was first introduced, the fleece was considered worthless. The operation of shearing was often delayed until the sheep were injured: it was a deduction from the profit. The wool was burned, or thrown into the stock-yards as manure.

In 1819, the captain of the Regalia accepted a proportion of Van Diemen's Land wool, in exchange for merchandise: it had no market price, its expenses were considerable, and a duty of 3d. was levied at London. A sample was seen by Mr. Hopkins lying in the docks in the worst possible condition: the speculation was a failure. The colonial government bought several tons a few months after at 3d. per lb. for mattresses, a sum that scarcely paid for its conveyance from the interior. The duty, formerly 3d., was reduced, on the recommendation of the commissioner, to 1d. per lb.

To Mr. Henry Hopkins the public are indebted for the first appreciation of Tasmanian wool. In September, 1821, he offered by advertisement a price in money, and bought at 4d. per lb. Twelve bales sold in London, the entire wool export of the colony, for 7d. per lb., or £88: the expenses were nearly half that sum. The merchants, however, continued to purchase, and the settlers to improve their flocks. In 1823, five hundred and fifty bales were exported in the Deveron, and an equal quantity in other vessels; and the wool of Clarendon rivalled the flocks at Port Jackson.

FOOTNOTES:

SECTION VII

The Britannia, a vessel the property of Messrs. Enderby and Sons, first discovered the whale fishery.[116] On doubling the south-west cape of Van Diemen's Land the crew saw sperm whales: in their progress to Port Jackson they fell in with prodigious shoals, as far as could be seen from the mast head. On arriving at Port Jackson the captain secretly informed the governor, who facilitated his preparation for a cruise. The sailors, however, did not conceal their observation, and two other vessels, the Mary Ann and Matilda, sailed one day before the Britannia and the Salamander, on the 1st November, 1791. On their departure they encountered bad weather, but saw whales in great plenty. The attempt was, for the moment, unsuccessful. Great expectations were formed by the colonists, who anticipated that this port would be a rendezvous of fishermen. This fishery, pursued since with so much vigour, was of little immediate value to Van Diemen's Land.

The duties payable on exports from the colonies were both excessive and unequal; especially in oil, the difference amounting to almost absolute prohibition; being twenty times greater than by London ships. The settlers could only procure for their own consumption or the Indian market. The whalers often carried on their operations in sight of the towns, and heaps of bone at that period lay on the eastern shore. Of the first whale taken in the Derwent, Jorgen Jorgenson declared himself the captor.

The trading pursuits of the inhabitants were fettered by the privilege of the East India Company. The act of parliament authorising its charter, prohibited the employment of vessels less than 350 tons between England and New South Wales; the small coasting trade was, therefore, solely eligible to the people of these colonies except in vessels unsuitable to the extent of their commerce. Thus, even the Mauritius was closed against the corn and meat of this country. This law was repealed in 1819, and thus vessels of any tonnage could be employed in the colonial trade.

In the islands of the straits sealing was pursued with such vigour, that it was comparatively exhausted at an early date: small vessels were employed in the dangerous navigation, and not unfrequently lost.