1788

Home > Other > 1788 > Page 15
1788 Page 15

by Watkin Tench


  Whether Abaroo’s coyness and preference of another had displeased him, or it was owing to natural fickleness, he paid her no farther attention, but seemed more delighted with us. He had no beard, but was highly gratified in being combed and having his hair clipped.

  All the stolen property being brought on shore, an old man came up and claimed one of the fish-gigs, singling it from the bundle, and taking only his own; and this honesty, within the circle of their society, seemed to characterise them all.

  During this time it was observed that one of the Indians, instead of mixing with the rest, stood aloof, in a musing posture, contemplating what passed. When we offered to approach him, he shunned us not, and willingly shook hands with all who chose to do so. He seemed to be between thirty and forty years old, was jolly, and had a thoughtful countenance, much marked by the smallpox. He wore a string of bits of dried reed round his neck, which I asked him to exchange for a black stock. He smiled at the proposal, but made no offer of what I wanted; which our young friend, Imeerawanyee, observing, flew to him and, taking off the necklace, directly fixed it about my neck. I feared he would be enraged, but he bore it with serenity, and suffered a gentleman present to fasten his black stock upon him, with which he appeared to be pleased. To increase his satisfaction, some other trifle was given to him.

  Having remained here an hour we went in quest of Baneelon, agreeably to the directions which his companions pointed out. We found him and Barangaroo shivering over a few lighted sticks, by which they were dressing small fish, and their canoe hauled up on the beach near them. On first seeing the boat they ran into the woods, but on being called by name they came back, and consented to our landing. We carried on shore with us the remaining part of the fish-gigs and spears which had been stolen, and restored them to Baneelon. Among other things was a net full of fishing lines and other tackle, which Barangaroo said was her property and, immediately on receiving it, she slung it around her neck.

  Baneelon inquired, with solicitude, about the state of the governor’s wound, but he made no offer of restoring the dirk, and when he was asked for it he pretended to know nothing of it, changing the conversation with great art, and asking for wine, which was given to him.

  At parting, we pressed him to appoint a day on which he should come to Sydney, assuring him that he would be well received and kindly treated. Doubtful, however, of being permitted to return, he evaded our request, and declared that the governor must first come and see him, which we promised should be done.

  The governor did not hesitate to execute the engagement which we had contracted for him. But Baneelon still resisted coming among us, and matters continued in this fluctuating state until the 8th of October when a fire, which they had agreed to light as a signal for us to visit them, was observed. The eager desire by which we were stimulated to carry our point of effecting an intercourse had appeared. Various parties accordingly set out to meet them, provided with different articles which we thought would prove acceptable to them. We found assembled Baneelon, Barangaroo and another young woman, and six men, all of whom received us with welcome except the grave looking gentleman beforementioned, who stood aloof in his former musing posture. When they saw that we had brought hatchets and other articles with us, they produced spears, fish-gigs and lines for the purpose of barter,* which immediately commenced to the satisfaction of both parties. I had brought with me an old blunted spear which wanted repair. An Indian immediately undertook to perform the task and, carrying it to a fire, tore with his teeth a piece of bone from a fish-gig which he fastened on the spear with yellow gum, rendered flexible by heat.

  October 1790. Many of them now consented to be shaved by a barber whom we had purposely brought over. As I thought he who could perform an operation of such importance must be deemed by them an eminent personage, I bade him ask one of them for a fine barbed spear which he held in his hand; but all the barber’s eloquence was wasted on the Indian, who plainly gave him to understand that he meant not to part with his spear without receiving an equivalent. Unfortunately, his price was a hatchet, and the only one which I had brought with me was already disposed of to the man who had pointed my spear. In vain did I tempt him with a knife, a handkerchief, and a hat; nothing but a hatchet seemed to be regarded. ‘Bùlla mògo parrabùgò’ (two hatchets tomorrow), I repeatedly cried; but having probably experienced our insincerity, he rejected the proposal with disdain. Finding him inflexible, and longing to possess the spear, I told him at length that I would go to Sydney and fetch what he required. This seemed to satisfy and he accompanied me to my boat, in which I went away, and as quickly as possible procured what was necessary to conclude the bargain. On my return, I was surprised to see all our boats rowing towards home, and with them a canoe in which sat two Indians paddling. I pulled to them and found that Baneelon and another Indian were in one of the boats, and that the whole formed a party going over to visit the governor. I now learned that during my absence the governor had passed in a boat, on his return from Rose Hill, near the place where they were standing; and that finding he would not come to them, although they had called to him to do so, they had at once determined to venture themselves unreservedly among us. One of the men in the canoe was the person to whom I was to give the hatchet I had been to fetch; and directly as he saw me, he held up his spear, and the exchange took place, with which, and perhaps to reward me for the trouble I had taken, he was so delighted that he presented me with a throwing-stick gratis.

  Not seeing Barangaroo of the party, I asked for her, and was informed that she had violently opposed Baneelon’s departure. When she found persuasion vain, she had recourse to tears, scolding and threats, stamping the ground and tearing her hair. But Baneelon continuing determined, she snatched up in her rage one of his fish-gigs, and dashed it with such fury on the rocks that it broke. To quiet her apprehensions on the score of her husband’s safety, Mr Johnson, attended by Abaroo, agreed to remain as a hostage until Baneelon should return.

  We landed our four friends opposite the hospital and set out for the governor’s house. On hearing of their arrival, such numbers flocked to view them that we were apprehensive the crowd of persons would alarm them, but they had left their fears behind, and marched on with boldness and unconcern. When we reached the governor’s house, Baneelon expressed honest joy to see his old friend, and appeared pleased to find that he had recovered of his wound. The governor asked for Wileemarin, and they said he was at Broken Bay. Some bread and beef were distributed among them but unluckily no fish was to be procured, which we were sorry for, as a promise of it had been one of the leading temptations by which they had been allured over. A hatchet apiece was, however, given to them, and a couple of petticoats and some fishing tackle sent for Barangaroo and the other woman.

  The ceremony of introduction being finished, Baneelon seemed to consider himself quite at home, running from room to room with his companions and introducing them to his old friends, the domestics, in the most familiar manner. Among these last, he particularly distinguished the governor’s orderly sergeant, whom he kissed with great affection, and a woman who attended in the kitchen; but the gamekeeper, McEntire,*2 he continued to hold in abhorrence, and would not suffer his approach.

  Nor was his importance to his countrymen less conspicuous in other respects. He undertook to explain the use and nature of those things which were new to them. Some of his explanations were whimsical enough. Seeing, for instance, a pair of snuffers, he told them that they were ‘Nuffer*3 for candle’— which the others not comprehending, he opened the snuffers and, holding up the fore-finger of his left hand, to represent a candle, made the motion of snuffing it. Finding that even this sagacious interpretation failed, he threw down the snuffers in a rage and, reproaching their stupidity, walked away.

  It was observed that a soft gentle tone of voice, which we had taught him to use, was forgotten, and his native vociferation returned in full force. But the tenderness which (like Abaroo) he had always manifested to childre
n he still retained, as appeared by his behaviour to those who were presented to him.

  The first wish they expressed to return was complied with, in order to banish all appearance of constraint, the party who had conducted them to Sydney returning with them. When we reached the opposite shore we found Abaroo and the other woman fishing in a canoe, and Mr Johnson and Barangaroo sitting at the fire, the latter employed in manufacturing fish-hooks. At a little distance, on an adjoining eminence, sat an Indian with his spear in his hand, as if sentinel over the hostages, for the security of his countrymen’s return.

  During our absence, Barangaroo had never ceased whining and reproaching her husband. Now that he was returned, she met him with unconcern, and seemed intent on her work only, but this state of repose did not long continue. Baneelon, eyeing the broken fish-gig, cast at her a look of savage fury and began to interrogate her, and it seemed more than probable that the remaining part would be demolished about her head had we not interposed to pacify him. Nor would we quit the place until his forgiveness was complete and his good humour restored. No sooner, however, did she find her husband’s rage subsided than her hour of triumph commenced. The alarm and trepidation she had manifested disappeared. Elated at his condescension, and emboldened by our presence and the finery in which we had decked her, she in turn assumed a haughty demeanour, refused to answer his caresses, and viewed him with a reproaching eye. Although long absence from female society had somewhat blunted our recollection, the conduct of Barangaroo did not appear quite novel to us, nor was our surprise very violent at finding that it succeeded in subduing Baneelon who, when we parted, seemed anxious only to please her.

  Thus ended a day, the events of which served to complete what an unhappy accident had begun. From this time our intercourse with the natives, though partially interrupted, was never broken off. We gradually continued, henceforth, to gain knowledge of their customs and policy, the only knowledge which can lead to a just estimate of national character.

  10

  The arrival of the Supply from Batavia; the state of the colony in November 1790

  JOY sparkled in every countenance to see our old friend the Supply (I hope no reader will be so captious as to quarrel with the phrase) enter the harbour from Batavia on the 19th of October. We had witnessed her departure with tears; we hailed her return with transport.

  Captain Ball was rather more than six months in making this voyage, and is the first person who ever circumnavigated the continent of New Holland. On his passage to Batavia he had discovered several islands which he gave names to and, after fighting his way against adverse elements and through unexplored dangers, safely reached his destined port. He had well stored his little bark with every necessary and conveniency which he judged we should first want, leaving a cargo of rice and salt provisions to be brought on by a Dutch snow which he had hired and freighted for the use of the settlement.† While at Batavia, the Supply had lost many of her people by sickness, and left several others in the general hospital at that place.

  As the arrival of the Supply naturally leads the attention from other subjects to the state of the colony, I shall here take a review of it by transcribing a statement drawn from actual observation soon after, exactly as I find it written in my journal.

  November 1790. Cultivation, on a public scale, has for some time past been given up here (Sydney), the crop of last year being so miserable as to deter from farther experiment, in consequence of which the government farm is abandoned, and the people who were fixed on it have been removed. Necessary public buildings advance fast; an excellent storehouse of large dimensions, built of bricks and covered with tiles, is just completed; and another planned which will shortly be begun. Other buildings, among which I heard the governor mention an hospital and permanent barracks for the troops, may also be expected to arise soon. Works of this nature are more expeditiously performed than heretofore, owing, I apprehend, to the superintendents lately arrived, who are placed over the convicts and compel them to labour. The first difficulties of a new country being subdued may also contribute to this comparative facility.

  Vegetables are scarce, although the summer is so far advanced, owing to want of rain. I do not think that all the showers of the last four months, put together, would make twenty-four hours rain. Our farms, what with this and a poor soil, are in wretched condition. My winter crop of potatoes, which I planted in days of despair (March and April last), turned out very badly when I dug them about two months back. Wheat returned so poorly last harvest that very little, besides Indian corn, has been sown this year. The governor’s wound is quite healed, and he feels no inconveniency whatever from it. With the natives we are hand and glove. They throng the camp every day, and sometimes by their clamour and importunity for bread and meat (of which they now all eat greedily) are become very troublesome. God knows, we have little enough for ourselves! Full allowance (if eight pounds of flour, and either seven pounds of beef or four pounds of pork, served alternately, per week, without either pease, oatmeal, spirits, butter or cheese can be called so) is yet kept up; but if the Dutch snow does not arrive soon it must be shortened, as the casks in the storehouse, I observed yesterday, are woefully decreased.

  The convicts continue to behave pretty well; three only have been hanged since the arrival of the last fleet, in the latter end of June, all of whom were newcomers. The number of convicts here diminishes every day; our principal efforts being wisely made at Rose Hill, where the land is unquestionably better than about this place. Except building, sawing and brickmaking, nothing of consequence is now carried on here. The account which I received a few days ago from the brickmakers of their labours was as follows. Wheeler (one of the master brickmakers), with two tile stools and one brick stool, was tasked to make and burn ready for use 30,000 tiles and bricks per month. He had twenty-one hands to assist him, who performed everything; cut wood, dug clay, etc. This continued (during the days of distress excepted, when they did what they could) until June last. From June, with one brick and two tile stools he has been tasked to make 40,000 bricks and tiles monthly (as many of each sort as may be), having twenty-two men and two boys to assist him, on the same terms of procuring materials as before. They fetch the clay of which the tiles are made two hundred yards; that for bricks is close at hand. He says that the bricks are such as would be called in England moderately good, and he judges they would have fetched about 24 shillings per thousand at Kingston-upon-Thames (where he resided) in the year 1784. Their greatest fault is being too brittle. The tiles he thinks not so good as those made about London. The stuff has a rotten quality, and besides wants the advantage of being ground, in lieu of which they tread it.

  King (another master bricklayer) last year, with the assistance of sixteen men and two boys, made 11,000 bricks weekly, with two stools. During short allowance did what he could. Resumed his old task when put again on full allowance, and had his number of assistants augmented to twenty men and two boys on account of the increased distance of carrying wood for the kilns. He worked at Hammersmith for Mr Scot of that place. He thinks the bricks made here as good as those made near London, and says that in the year 1784 they would have sold for a guinea per thousand and to have picked the kiln at 30 shillings.

  Such is my Sydney detail dated the 12th of November 1790. Four days after I went to Rose Hill and wrote the subjoined remarks.

  November 16th. Got to Rose Hill in the evening. Next morning walked round the whole of the cleared and cultivated land, with the Rev. Mr Johnson, who is the best farmer in the country. Edward Dod, one of the governor’s household, who conducts everything here in the agricultural line, accompanied us part of the way, and afforded all the information he could. He estimates the quantity of cleared and cultivated land at 200 acres. Of these, fifty-five are in wheat, barley, and a little oats, thirty in maize, and the remainder is either just cleared of wood, or is occupied by buildings, gardens, etc. Four enclosures of twenty acres each are planned for the reception of cattle which may arr
ive in the colony, and two of these are already fenced in. In the centre of them is to be erected a house for a person who will be fixed upon to take care of the cattle. All these enclosures are supplied with water; and only a part of the trees which grew in them being cut down, gives to them a very park-like and beautiful appearance.

  ‘Our survey commenced on the north side of the river. Dod says he expects this year’s crop of wheat and barley from the fifty-five acres to yield full 400 bushels. Appearances hitherto hardly indicate so much. He says he finds the beginning of May the best time to sow barley,* but that it may continue to be sown until August. That sown in May is reaped in December; that of August in January. He sowed his wheat, part in June and part in July. He thinks June the best time, and says that he invariably finds that which is deepest sown grows strongest and best; even as deep as three inches he has put it in, and found it to answer. The wheat sown in June is now turning yellow; that of July is more backward. He has used only the broad-cast husbandry, and sowed two bushels per acre. The plough has never yet been tried here; all the ground is hoed and (as Dod confesses) very incompetently turned up. Each convict labourer was obliged to hoe sixteen rods a day, so that in some places the earth was but just scratched over.†2 The ground was left open for some months, to receive benefit from the sun and air; and on that newly cleared the trees were burnt and the ashes dug in. I do not find that a succession of crops has yet been attempted; surely it would help to meliorate and improve the soil. Dod recommends strongly the culture of potatoes on a large scale, and says that were they planted even as late as January they would answer, but this I doubt. He is more than ever of opinion that without a large supply of cattle nothing can be done. They have not at this time either horse, cow or sheep here. I asked him how the stock they had was coming on. The fowls he said multiplied exceedingly, but the hogs neither thrived or increased in number, for want of food. He pointed out to us his best wheat, which looks tolerable, and may perhaps yield thirteen or fourteen bushels per acre.*2 Next came the oats which are in ear, though no more than six inches high: they will not return as much seed as was sown. The barley, except one patch in a corner of a field, little better than the oats. Crossed the river and inspected the south side. Found the little patch of wheat at the bottom of the crescent very bad. Proceeded and examined the large field on the ascent to the westward: here are about twenty-five acres of wheat, which from its appearance we guessed would produce perhaps seven bushels an acre. The next patch to this is in maize, which looks not unpromising; some of the stems are stout, and beginning to throw out large broad leaves, the surest sign of vigour. The view from the top of the wheat field takes in, except a narrow slip, the whole of the cleared land at Rose Hill. From not having before seen an opening of such extent for the last three years, this struck us as grand and capacious. The beautiful diversity of the ground (gentle hill and dale) would certainly be reckoned pretty in any country. Continued our walk, and crossed the old field which is intended to form part of the main street of the projected town. The wheat in this field is rather better, but not much, than in the large field before mentioned. The next field is maize, inferior to what we have seen, but not despicable. An acre of maize, at the bottom of the marine garden, is equal in luxuriancy of promise to any I ever saw in any country.

 

‹ Prev