Читать книгу My Experiences in Australia. - A Lady - Страница 9

Table of Contents

The climate of New South Wales—Variations of temperature—Australian children—Their precocity in every respect—Resemblance to Americans—Sydney society—Beadledom at the antipodes—The squatters—The Sydney season—Balls and pic-nics—Fish—Beauties of the Harbour—The Paramatta River—Oranges and orange groves—The Town of Paramatta—Traditions of the Female Factory.

I have heard so many different opinions touching the climate of New South Wales, even from old residents, that I must be excused if, with my limited experience, I have not quite made up my mind on the subject, whether to praise or condemn. The winter months, from March to September, are generally very delightful, reminding one of a fine August or September at home. The air is fresh and bracing, the sky bright and cloudless, and there is that peculiar clearness in the atmosphere which adds so great a charm to the beauty of a landscape; but even at this time, that great drawback to the Australian climate, its variableness, is very remarkable. The mornings are quite chilly, and a fire is a very agreeable companion; you venture out, perhaps, in a comfortable warm dress and cloth cloak, and by twelve o'clock you long for the lightest of muslins; the power attained by the sun at midday, even in the middle of the winter, is always so great. Towards evening, again, it becomes quite cold and even frosty; I do not remember ever noticing the variations of the thermometer during the four-and-twenty hours, but can easily believe there is frequently a difference of from 20 to 30 degrees. In the summer the alternations must be still greater. I remember the only New Year's Eve I was in the colony, being quite glad to draw my chair close to a large wood fire (this, I must mention, was during a heavy flood, when the country round was fairly inundated), and a week after, the heat was so great that the thermometer in my bedroom, the coolest room in the house, stood at a hundred and two! These excessive variations of the temperature must necessarily be productive of a great deal of illness.

In the interior, where, from the description of their dwellings and the character of their avocations, people are more exposed to these changes of climate than in town, they produce rheumatism in all its forms, and in many parts of the country fever and ague also; but still, on the whole, I suppose the climate must be admitted to be healthy. It is said to be particularly favourable to children and very old people; the former assertion I can well believe, as the children are generally the very picture of health, but the latter I do not understand so well, as there seems to be so very small a proportion of old people among the population of New South Wales; and those few seem generally to have grown old before their time. The remark, perhaps, is only meant to apply to those who, with a good sound constitution, come to the colony just as old age is creeping on them, and to these the change to a mild dry atmosphere (provided they are not likely to be exposed to its vicissitudes) may be beneficial, but I should not think the native-born Australians, or those who have emigrated in childhood, are likely to be a very long-lived race. They arrive so early at maturity—boys and girls of fourteen or fifteen looking quite young men and women—I should fancy in the course of a generation or two, that the European population of Australia will bear a great resemblance to that of America. I have already said how much struck I was by the typical similarity of the first Australian youths I had seen, in figure, features, and expression, to my pre-conceived notion of Yankees, which notions were not wholly derived from Punch. The girls are, generally speaking, pretty; their great want no doubt is complexion, but this is more than compensated for by their fine eyes and hair, and slight graceful figures. Still, as we read of American beauties, they go off very soon, and at four or five-and-twenty have generally a worn faded look. There is something American, too, in the treatment of children and young people in Australia; they are, if I may venture to say it, terribly spoilt; everything is made to give way to them, and it is half-amusing, half-sad to hear quite little things passing their opinions on every subject, expressing their wishes, and expecting everything to give way to their inclinations.

One would almost prefer the discipline of former times, in which our grandfathers and grandmothers were trained up. Perhaps my remarks on this subject are somewhat of a sweeping nature, but they are not only the result of my own observations, but an expression of the opinions of others whose experience better qualifies them to have a voice on the subject; and though, no doubt, there are many parents who have somewhat stricter, and in my opinion more sensible, notions on the subject of education, yet, with the greater number, excessive indulgence and freedom of speech and action seem the order of the day.—Query, is this peculiar feature of moral training, viz., the accordance of the fullest liberty or license to those least able to use it discreetly, the invariable characteristic of all free and enlightened states and individuals?

Perhaps I may here venture to say a little of Sydney society, but, in hazarding a few remarks on the subject, I must premise by stating that from my short residence in the colony, my personal experience is very limited, and I can only pretend to give some notion of the impressions it made on me, a perfect stranger, possessed however of more opportunities of mixing in it than occurs to most new arrivals, from the fact of my husband having been formerly for many years resident in the colony. I may begin by stating that the present tone of society is, so far as I could gather, very much higher and better than it was in the late Governor's time; or at all events during the latter years of his residence. To compare small things, or rather people, with great ones, there is much the same difference between the renommée of Government House under the late Sir Charles Fitzroy and at present under Sir Wm. Dennison, as between that of the Pavilion during George the Fourth's time, and Osborne under the rule of our present Gracious Sovereign; and it must be admitted that abroad, as well as at home, the private lives of the most exalted individuals of the land cannot fail to have a great influence on the moral tone of the community at large. But to pass on to society as it now exists; it may not seem very surprising that in Sydney, as in our country towns at home, the community should be very much divided into cliques, the leading class piquing itself very much on its exclusiveness; but of course here, as elsewhere, great wealth is an "open sesame," that there is no withstanding; and it is only the union of obscurity and poverty with disgrace or crime that is so carefully shunned, so unsparingly stigmatized. The officers of government, civil, military, and naval, the heads of the learned professions, and the leading members of Parliament (so-called) are, however, the acknowledged representatives of Antipodean aristocracy; and somewhat amused I used to be at their amazing appreciation of their respective dignities, and the eagerness with which they hug and cherish their official, parliamentary, and police-office prefixes, of honourable or worshipful, and the equally esteemed adjuncts, M.P., M.L.C., J.P., &c., &c. All this exaggerated respect for office and minor colonial dignities reminded me not seldom of the well-known papers on "Beadledom," making me imagine Sydney must be decidedly a city of refuge, if not the last stronghold, of that respectable institution.

However, when we take into consideration the peculiar circumstances under which the colony was first formed, and the great number of more than doubtful characters who were, and perhaps still are to be met with in it, we cannot wonder at the existence of a very decided desire on the part of the more respectable classes to acquire what may be described as testimonials of respectability, and rather to hold themselves aloof from those not similarly décorés. One might suggest, no doubt, a higher standard of respectability than that universally acknowledged in the colony, which partakes somewhat of the character of the test of "keeping a gig," rendered famous by Carlyle; but if we have not arrived at home, this indifference to the claims of mere wealth, and still less of position, we cannot reasonably expect a greater amount of philosophy in this gold-hunting colony.

There is another class which might fairly advance equal claims to the highest rank in the social scale of the colony, but who, until lately, were little known in the fashionable world of Sydney. I allude of course to the squatters; generally young men of good family at home, many of whom having enjoyed the advantages of a university education, and not having left the old country till fully able to appreciate its refinements, carry away some fragments of them to their rude bush dwellings. They not unfrequently, too, contrive in after years, to induce some fair countrywoman to share their fortunes in the land of their adoption; so that there is often an air of more home-life refinement round the rough cottages of the far interior, than pervades many of the finely furnished drawing-rooms in and around Sydney.

Now, in these prosperous times, some of these "pastoral nabobs," as a few of the most fortunate of the squatters may be termed, are beginning to afford themselves town residences, and the infusion of this new element into Sydney society, will, undoubtedly, be greatly to its advantage.

On account of the great heat of summer, or perhaps because the Colonial Legislators then give themselves a holiday in the country, the winter months are the season of the principal festivities here. The first ball at Government House is given on or about the 24th of May, in celebration of Her Majesty's birthday; as some twelve hundred persons are generally invited, it is not as may be supposed, by any means an exclusive or particularly select affair, and I have been told that extraordinary abuse of the Queen's English is occasionally perpetrated during the intervals of the dances, and that various eccentricities are occasionally exhibited at supper. Invitations to the private assemblies at Government House, however, are more limited in number, and only issued to the quasi élite of Sydney society.

Besides these assemblies, there are generally in the course of the season two or three large public balls, either at one or other of the theatres, or at the barracks, given by the officers of the regiments stationed there, and of course plenty of private parties, so that Sydney is by no means wanting in gaiety. A visit to one of these balls gives a stranger a very favourable idea of the good looks of the colonial belles, who may be said to light up well, the prevailing style of beauty being of a character which perhaps shows to the greatest advantage in a ball-room. In summer pic-nics are much in vogue, and no more delightful sites can be imagined than those offered by every bay and headland of the lovely harbour for these fêtes champêtres. These pleasantest of parties are not quite so much in fashion now, I am told, as they used to be during the late régime. Of some that took place in former days under distinguished patronage, scandal tells some wicked stories, which would be very amusing if they were not very shocking.

Oystering, too, used to be a favourite amusement with the young folks of Sydney, and every rock in the harbour was once covered with this favourite little shell-fish, but they are fast disappearing from the vicinity of the town, though the supply obtained for the market is very abundant. Prawns, and a species of crawfish as large as a lobster, are also very plentiful at certain seasons; but the fish generally is of a far inferior description to that which we get at home. It is caught in considerable abundance both in the harbour and Botany Bay, and it is not surprising that from the advantages offered by these lovely pieces of water, that fishing and boating should be somewhat favourite amusements with the youth of Sydney.

The regattas which occasionally take place here, are, I have heard, very pretty sights, and I can well believe it, as the beautiful scenery of the harbour would form a lovely background to any picture. My acquaintance with these said beauties, however, is somewhat limited, for I am such a very wretched sailor that I could never make up my mind to explore it in a boat. Once I ventured in a small steamer to Manly Beach, as the head of one of the many little bays of the harbour is called, and a very pleasant day we spent there, partaking of our lunch under the spreading gum trees, with the calm blue waters of the harbour on one side, and on the other the boundless South Pacific Ocean, with its huge waves breaking in tremendous force on the rocky shore. Another pleasant excursion is up the Paramatta River, the whole course of which, but more especially the first ten miles after leaving Sydney, is picturesque in the extreme. The first spot you notice at the mouth of the river is Cockatoo Island, a barren rocky little islet, to which most of the malefactors of the colony are now sent, and where the few convicts from home whose sentences have not expired or been commuted, are still confined.

These prisoners are principally employed in quarrying stone, and in the erection of docks. Sentinels are posted at short distances all round the island, and escape from it would be very difficult, more especially as the harbour is known to abound with sharks, and the most active swimmer would stand but a poor chance of reaching either bank of the river in safety. After leaving Cockatoo Island, the steamer passes several other small islets more promising in appearance, boasting generally of plenty of vegetation and even tall trees; some pretty villa residences have been built on them, as well as on either bank of the river, whose turnings and wanderings are very picturesque. Indeed, as far as Ryde, a prettier stream can hardly be imagined; on its banks are some extensive orange orchards, and the dark glossy green of the foliage contrasted with the bright golden fruit, forms a new and lovely feature in the landscape.

From this neighbourhood come the greater number of oranges that supply the Sydney and Melbourne markets, and these orange groves are sources of great wealth to their fortunate possessors; one was pointed out to me apparently of but small extent, not larger than a good sized kitchen garden, and I was told that either a thousand or twelve hundred pounds had been given that season for the fruit. Many new orchards are being planted, which will in a few years male the supply of fruit so much more abundant, that it will, of course, greatly reduce the profits of those at present in bearing; but, in the meantime, their owners are reaping a golden harvest.

The town of Paramatta is situated at the head of the navigation of the river, some fifteen or sixteen miles from Sydney. It lies very low, and in summer the heat there must be excessive, as it has not the benefit of the sea breezes, which at this period are the very life of the metropolis. I do not know anything for which it is very remarkable; the streets are straggling, the good shops not numerous—altogether it is much like one of our third or fourth rate country towns at home. In former days it was celebrated for an establishment called "The Factory," for what reason I am not aware, it being a sort of house of correction for the reception of the female prisoners on their first landing, previous to consignment to private service, and for their punishment if returned there for misbehaviour in the colony. The inmates were divided into three classes. In the second, were placed the new arrivals, who by good conduct were promoted to the first, or by bad degraded to the third. The third class was consequently composed of of the worst of these unfortunates, who had their heads shaved, were kept under very strict surveillance and considered ineligible for service; but from the two higher classes domestic servants might he chosen, who, occasionally, were promoted to still higher positions in the households of the early settlers. Indeed, I have been fold that it was no unusual thing for some forlorn bachelor in want of a helpmate, to select one from this peculiarly Australian establishment.

The formula gone through on such occasions was something as follows. The would-be Benedict made his wishes known to the Government, which, with true paternal consideration, ordered a muster of its somewhat troublesome wards. When marshalled in fair array, the anxious wooer passed down the ranks and made his selection from among the candidates, and the object of his choice was then assigned to him for "better or worse." I have heard that from marriages thus contracted, have sprung more than one of the wealthiest families of the colony.

This institution is, however, no longer existing; Paramatta has lost one of its greatest attractions, and, indeed, quite gives one the idea of a place that has seen its beat days. Even the railway communication which has been lately opened between it and Sydney, seems to have done little for it in any respect. There are a few good residences in the immediate neighbourhood of the town, but not so many as might be expected from the fact of its short distance from Sydney, and the easy access to the metropolis now afforded by steam communication both by land and water. The former Governor had a country seat here, but it has been given up lately, owing, I believe, to some colonial disciples of the school of retrenchment having induced the Legislature to stop the supplies for keeping up the establishment.