STRANGE ADVENTURES--AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINALS.
One of the youths asked how the convicts were employed after they came
to Australia.
"At first," said the doctor, "they were employed almost entirely on
government works. A city was laid out, and of course it was necessary to
grade the streets, build bridges, and do other things in connection with
putting the place into shape. There were prisons, warehouses, wharves,
and other buildings necessary to a convict establishment to be erected.
Gardens and fields were to be laid out and planted, and altogether there
was no lack of work to be performed. The prisoners were required to work
under guard, and the worst of them were ornamented with ball and chain,
like the occupants of many a prison in different parts of the world.
They were treated just as rigorously as they had been on board the ships
that brought them out. Their lodgings were somewhat more spacious, but
by no stretch of fancy could they be called luxurious. The supply of
food in the colony was not large, and the fare of the prisoners was
scanty.
"Free emigration to Australia began a few years after the convict
emigration, and most of the free emigrants came here with the view to
employ the convicts under contracts with the government. They were
principally men of capital, and the most of them established farms or
factories near Sydney and entered into agreements with the government
to supply them with labor. Where they were close to the city, the
convicts were sent out to their work in the morning and returned to
prison at night; but where the distance from the city was considerable,
other plans had to be followed. Sometimes soldiers were detailed to
guard the convicts at their working places, and in others the employer
himself supplied the guard. The convicts were also made to understand
very clearly that if they ran away they would be caught and severely
punished.
"I should think they would run away in spite of all these threats,
especially where their sentences were for long terms," Harry remarked.
"It was not so easy as it may seem for anybody to escape," said the
doctor. "A man could not stay around the colony more than a day or two,
or a few days at the farthest, without being discovered, and when found
he was sure to be severely flogged, put on bread and water, and shut up
in a dark cell. If he escaped into the bush, he was pretty certain to
starve to death unless found by the natives, in which case he was
generally murdered. Many a convict ran away to the bush and was never
heard of. Others remained there until starvation forced them to come in
and give themselves up."
"Did the free settlers increase as fast as the convicts?"
"Yes, they increased faster as the word went out through the British
Islands that Australia offered great possibilities for emigrants. For
twenty years the military and convicts were more numerous than the free
settlers; but by the end of thirty years the latter were in the
ascendency. In the year 1830, there were twenty-seven thousand convicts
in the colony, and forty-nine thousand others.
"By 'others' I don't mean other settlers, altogether, though I do
mean free people. By that time a good many convicts had served out
their sentences and become free. They were known as 'emancipists,'
and consequently there were three kinds of people in the
colony,--emancipists, convicts, and free settlers. The free settlers
would not associate with the emancipists, and they in turn would not
associate with the convicts. The free settlers wanted the emancipists to
be deprived of all civil rights and kept practically in the same
position as the convicts. The officers of the government used to take
the side of the emancipists, and there were many bitter quarrels between
them and the free settlers in consequence."
Here the doctor paused for a moment, and then asked:--
"Did you ever read about the mutiny of the _Bounty_?"
"Oh, yes," replied Harry; "I read about it two or three years ago. The
crew of the ship _Bounty_ mutinied, and put the captain and others in an
open boat to take care of themselves the best way they could. The
_Bounty_ then cruised about the Pacific for awhile, and finally went to
Pitcairn's Island, where the mutineers landed and destroyed the ship.
Their fate was not known until nearly thirty years afterwards, when an
American ship touched at the island, and found it peopled by the
descendants of the mutineers, who had taken some women from Tahiti to
become their wives. Only one of those concerned in the mutiny was then
alive. The captain and his companions in the open boat made a voyage of
four thousand miles, enduring great hardships, and eventually reached
the Dutch settlements in the island of Timor."
"A very good account for a brief one," said the doctor. "Do you remember
the name of the _Bounty's_ commander?"
"Yes," replied Harry. "I believe it was Bligh; in fact, I am sure of
it."
"Well, that same Captain Bligh was one of the early governors of New
South Wales, as the colony was then called. He caused the mutiny on the
_Bounty_ by want of tact and by undue severity, and the same spirit that
he showed on the deck of his ship caused a rebellion in New South Wales.
Of course, the convicts had no influence or part in the rebellion, but
the free settlers were very active in it, and so were a good many of the
officers. Bligh caused himself to be thoroughly disliked by interfering
with local trade, and also by his very intemperate talk concerning free
settlers and emancipists. He was deposed and sent to England, while a
temporary governor was installed in his place. To a certain extent he
triumphed over his enemies, as the officers who had taken part in the
rebellion were either reprimanded or dismissed. Governor Bligh came back
with the authority to assume the position of governor for just one
hour."
"Not a very long term for a man to be governor," Ned remarked.
"No, not by any means," was the reply; "but there was a technical
advantage in it which was very important. The governor did a great deal
in that one hour. He removed a good many officers and appointed new
ones in their places, and he made several changes in the administration
of the colony which were more or less embarrassing to his successor.
"Governor Bligh was succeeded by Governor Macquarie. The quarrel between
the free settlers and the emancipists continued during Macquarie's
administration. The governor took the side of the emancipists, and at
one time there was a good prospect of another rebellion; but, happily,
the new chief of the colony possessed more tact than his predecessor,
and no rebellion was ever brought about. Governor Macquarie relaxed some
of the severity with which the convicts had been treated, and this,
together with his favoring the emancipists, gave him the title of the
'Prisoners' Friend.'
"As time went on, the number of free settlers in the colony increased,
and so did the number of farms in the vicinity of Sydney. As I have
already told you, the convicts were hired out to work on the farms. Of
course a good many of them ran away, and then some of them got into the
bush, where they remained for various periods, but the majority of them
were caught and brought back within a few days. Dogs were used in
pursuing them, and several kennels of dogs were kept at the prisons for
the purpose of hunting out runaways. Some of the prisoners' beliefs in
regard to the country were very amusing. The idea got into the heads of
many that, by traveling overland for a few days, they would reach China,
and quite a number of them tried to do so. One man wandered for a month
around the bush country, until finally, driven by hunger, he ventured
to approach a house. There he saw a fellow-prisoner whom he knew, and
asked him how long he had been in China. He was very much surprised on
learning that he was not in China at all, but on a farm a few miles from
Sydney. While he was talking with the friend two soldiers happened along
and took him in charge, and then carried him back to the prison, where
he received the customary punishment.
"In 1798 a good many Irishmen who had been concerned in the Irish
rebellion of that year were transported to Australia. They saw in the
mountains back of Sydney a close resemblance to the mountains of
Connaught, in their native country, and fancied that if they could cross
those mountains they would find themselves at home. Quite a number of
them ran away in consequence, but were doomed to disappointment. One man
on the voyage out to Australia had given a good deal of time to studying
the motions of the ship's compass, and he imagined that if he could only
get something of the kind he would be all right and could safely guide
himself through the forests of Australia. He watched his chance and
stole a book on navigation. One leaf of the book had a picture of a
mariner's compass. He tore out this leaf, and, thus equipped, took the
first opportunity of running away.
"Speaking of these Irish rebels reminds me of something I must tell you.
They were convicted of treason, either for taking an active part in the
rebellion or sympathizing with it, and for this crime they were sent as
convicts to the other side of the world. No distinction was made between
political and criminal offenders, and the man who had loved his country
and tried to set her free treated with the same severity as the house
breaker and highwayman.
"A great many men were sent to Australia for the crime of poaching. Many
a man was condemned to seven, ten, and fifteen years' exile at hard
labor because he had taken a trout out of a brook, or snared a
partridge. Offenses that in these times would only result in a fine were
then punished with great severity, and a considerable number of the
convicts sent to Australia in the first thirty years of the prevalence
of the system were men whose offenses had really been very light. It was
for this reason that Governor Macquarie and other high officials took
the position that they did in favor of the emancipists. They contended
that a man whose offense had been of a trivial sort, and who had shown
himself to be honest and industrious, ought to receive a helping hand,
instead of being placed under the ban."
"I quite agree with them," said Harry; "and I wonder that the free
settlers were so severe against them."
"But you must bear in mind," the doctor answered, "that the term
'convict' is always odious, no matter under what circumstances it may
have been obtained. It was not easy at all times for the free settlers
to make a distinction among emancipists, and so they came to a quick
conclusion by denouncing all. However, that state of society has all
passed away; convicts, emancipists, and free settlers of the first
quarter of this century are all dead and gone now, with, possibly, a few
exceptions. Time has healed the breach, and this subject is very little
talked of at the present day."
"How about the descendants of the early colonists?" Ned inquired. "Do
the sins of the fathers descend upon the children, or are they all
forgotten?"
"As to that," said the doctor, "I must give you a little explanation. It
is not considered polite in Australia to ask a man born in the country
who his father was, or how he happened to emigrate from England. That is
a subject that is ignored in polite society, and, in fact, in society of
all kinds. In political life, a man may abuse his opponent as much as he
pleases in all ways, except that should he venture in the anger of
debate to intimate that his opponent's father came to Australia as an
involuntary emigrant, he renders himself liable to heavy damages. I can
tell you of a case in point.
"A prominent official in the government of Victoria is known to be the
son of a man who was transported for catching a pheasant. It is an open
secret; in fact, one could hardly say that it was a secret at all, as
every man who has any knowledge of public life is well aware of it. Once
while this man was running for office, his opponent, in a fierce debate
before a public meeting, mentioned the circumstance, whereupon the other
brought suit, and was awarded damages to the extent of fifty thousand
dollars. It is probable that the unlucky defendant of the suit has been
more careful in the use of his tongue ever since.
"One of the convicts that escaped," continued the doctor, "had a most
remarkable experience. He wandered off into the bush or forests, and
kept traveling until the small amount of provisions he carried was
exhausted. Then for two or three days he lived upon roots and leaves
and on a bird that he killed with a club.
"One day, while he was dragging himself along, he came to a mound of
earth, which had been freshly heaped up. Standing in this mound there
was a stick, and to help himself along he took possession of the stick,
which was like a long walking-cane. He observed, as he took possession
of it, that it seemed to have been used before, but he proceeded on his
way and thought no more about the matter.
"After dragging himself along for half a mile or more, he suddenly came
upon a little encampment of native blacks or aborigines. They raised a
shout as they saw him and made a rush in his direction, brandishing
their spears and other weapons, and showing signs of hostility.
"The poor fellow thought his last hour had come, as he had heard that
the blacks murdered every white man they came across. What was his
surprise when they suddenly lowered their weapons and changed their
demonstrations of hostility to those of respect! They gathered about him
in the most friendly manner imaginable, and tried to talk with him, but
he could not understand a word. They threw up a shelter for him larger
than any other shelter in the encampment, and installed him there, and
they treated him as though he were a princely ambassador. They brought
him food, which he ate ravenously, and they continued to place their
greatest delicacies before him until his appetite was fully satisfied.
"Well, he remained among them for years, and as he was a man of fair
intelligence, he soon learned their language. It did not take him long
to comprehend that he was treated as the chief of the tribe, and had
been regarded as such from the very beginning. And what do you suppose
brought it about?"
"I'm sure I can't tell," said both of the youths in a breath.
"It came about in this way," explained the doctor. "The Australian
blacks believe, or, at any rate, many of the tribes do, that the white
man is nothing more nor less than a resurrected black man. Those of them
who speak English express it in these words: 'Tumble down, black fellow;
jump up, white fellow.'
"It so happened that the tribe which he joined had just buried its
chief, and when they bury one of their dead they heap a mound of earth
above the spot, and upon the top of the mound some implement or weapon
belonging to the deceased. In this case they had stuck the old chief's
walking-staff in the top of the mound, and it was this very staff that
the white man took from the mound where the chief was buried, to help
him along on his way. When the blacks saw the man approaching they
proceeded to kill him after their custom, but as he came near and they
saw that he carried the staff of their chief, they at once concluded
that the chief had come to life again in the shape of the white fellow.
That is why they showed him so many honors and made him chief of their
tribe. It was in their minds a clear case of 'tumble down, black fellow;
jump up, white fellow.'"
"I suppose he was quite contented to stay with them, and not return to
Sydney and its punishments?" remarked one of the youths.
"Yes, indeed he was. For years rumors came to Sydney from time to time,
that there was a white man living in one of the aboriginal tribes as
their chief. Word was sent him several times by means of the blacks,
giving the governor's promise that he would not be molested if he would
come to Sydney and tell his story, but he was suspicious, and for a long
time refused to come. Finally an officer of the government went out, and
with a great deal of difficulty succeeded in having an interview with
him. He received the most solemn assurance that he would not be
interfered with, and finally said that if a full pardon were sent to
him, he would come. A full pardon was accordingly forwarded and he
ventured to Sydney, where he received a good deal of attention. His
story was taken down from his own lips, and afterward published in a
book. After a few months he became dissatisfied with civilization and
returned to his wanderings."
"That is a curious idea of the blacks, that they become white after
their death," Ned remarked.
"Yes, it is curious," said the doctor, "and they carry it out in forming
attachments for the white people who employed them. At a station where
quite a number of blacks were employed, one of the eldest of the women
used to say to the foreman of the place: 'You are my son, I your moder,
and I take care of you. My big boy tumble down, you white boy tumble up.
You my piccanniny.' After a time the man got married and brought his
wife to his home. The next day another woman of the tribe adopted and
laid claim to her as her child. The two women became very fond of each
other, and when, in the course of time, the black woman died, the white
one mourned exceedingly for her."
"We will have an opportunity to see some of the aboriginals while we are
in the country, and then we will learn more about them," continued the
doctor; "but of one thing let me remind you, do not speak of them as
'natives.' In Australia, the term 'native' is applied to a white person
born in this country, while the real natives, as we ourselves would
speak of them, are termed 'blacks' or 'aborigines.'"
The youths promised to bear the advice in mind, and then Harry asked how
the discontinuance of convict emigration was brought about.
"It was brought about," the doctor replied, "through the hostility of
the Australians themselves. They protested repeatedly against receiving
convicts, and their protests were heeded to the extent that for awhile
the emigration ceased; but one day a ship appeared in the harbor of
Sydney with a fresh batch of convicts. Thereupon the local authorities
took vigorous action, and refused to allow the convicts to be landed.
The ship then went to Melbourne, with the same result. The people of
Melbourne would not have the undesirable emigrants, and the captain was
obliged to go around the southern coast to West Australia, where no
opposition was made to the human cargo being put on shore. Convict
emigration to New South Wales and Victoria ceased about 1840, and to
Tasmania in 1853, but it was continued to West Australia until 1858.
Since that time it has been entirely given up by the British government,
and the class of people that used to be sent here is now taken care of
in British prisons at home.
"The old idea about transportation of criminals was, that it rendered
society at home better by removing the criminal class. In practise this
theory was found to be a mistaken one. Thievery and similar crimes were
found to be trades, and as fast as criminals were transported others
came up to take their places, so that, practically, no matter how many
criminals were sent away, their places were soon filled and the business
went on as before. France began the practise about the middle of this
century of transporting criminals to New Caledonia and other islands of
the Pacific; she still keeps it up, but, according to accounts, there is
no diminution of crime in France, nor is there likely to be.
"It is proper to say in this connection that there was a considerable
party in Australia in favor of the transportation system, on account of
the money the government expended here in consequence. This was
particularly the case in Van Dieman's Land, which is now called
Tasmania. That island received a great number of convicts, and the
government expended a very large amount of money for their support and
for the construction of prison establishments. Many of the public works
of Tasmania were built by the convicts. For example, they built an
excellent road one hundred and twenty miles long, running across the
island from Hobart to Launceston. It is said to be the finest wagon and
carriage road in all the country, but is now comparatively little used,
having been superseded by a railway.
"The ruins of a very extensive prison are still to be seen at Port
Arthur, about thirteen miles from Hobart; it stands on a peninsula
which is connected with the mainland by a very narrow neck. Across this
neck of land there were chained a lot of savage dogs, so near each other
that nobody could pass without being within reach of at least one of the
dogs. The water all around the peninsula abounded in sharks, so that if
a man attempted to swim across the bay he was liable to become the prey
of one, or perhaps a dozen, of these sea wolves. And yet a good many
men, first and last, managed to escape from Port Arthur and get into the
bush.
"Generally the runaways were caught before being at large many days, and
when brought back many of them were condemned to death. At one time the
keeper who had charge of the prisons at Hobart complained to the
authorities of the inadequate facilities for putting men to death by
hanging. He said it was impossible to hang conveniently more than
thirteen men at once, and as the hangman had been very busy of late, he
thought that the facilities ought to be increased so that the work could
be performed with greater expedition."
Dr. Whitney reminded his young friends that it was time for them to
start if they wished to employ the forenoon advantageously; accordingly,
a carriage was called and the party went out for a drive. They proceeded
in the direction of the lake, a pretty sheet of water in the northern
part of Adelaide--about two miles long and in some places half a mile
wide. The lake is an artificial one, and is formed by throwing a dam
across the river Torrens and restraining the waters which come down in
times of flood. For the greater part of the year the river is little
more than a dry bed of sand, and one of the inhabitants told Harry that
sprinkling-carts were driven through the bed of the river every morning
and evening to keep down the dust. The city is supplied with water from
this river; it is taken from a stream several miles above Adelaide, and
brought through heavy iron pipes.
Harry wished to know the population of the city, and was told that it
was not far from sixty thousand. There is a considerable suburban
population, and the man from whom Harry obtained his information said he
thought there was fully another sixty thousand people living within a
radius of ten miles from City Hall. He said the whole population of the
colony of South Australia was not far from one hundred and thirty
thousand including about five thousand aboriginals.
When the country was first settled it was thought that the aboriginals
numbered twelve or fourteen thousand, but contact with civilization had
reduced the figures very materially here, as in other parts of the
world. Where white men and aboriginals have come in contact, the latter
have suffered all over Australia; their relations have not changed in
New Zealand and Tasmania, and this is especially the case in the
last-named colony. Not a single aboriginal Tasmanian is now alive, the
last one having died in 1876. When the island was first occupied by the
English, the number of aboriginals was estimated at four or five
thousand. The story goes that when the British landed there the natives
made signs of peace, but the officer who was in charge of the landing
thought the signals were hostile instead of friendly. He ordered the
soldiers to fire upon the blacks, and thus began a war which lasted for
several years, and when it terminated only a few hundreds of the blacks
remained alive. In 1854, there were only fifteen of them left, and the
number gradually diminished, until the last one died as related.