Читать книгу The City of Sydney (John Arthur Barry) - fully illustrated - (Literary Thoughts Edition) - John Arthur Barry - Страница 4

THE founder of Sydney was Captain Arthur Phillip, who, in 1788, discovered that Port Jackson, in place of being the mere open bay that Cook, years earlier, had taken it for, was in reality one of the finest harbors in the world, with space in its waters for a score of navies; on its shores for as many cities.

In 1770 Captain Cook had discovered Botany Bay, and recommended it to the Government as a good site for a colony. But it was not until eighteen years later that, wanting a site for a convict settlement, the authorities of the day bethought themselves of Botany Bay, and sent Captain Arthur Phillip in charge of eleven ships, since known as the “First Fleet,” to establish himself on its shores. But Phillip didn’t care about Botany. Water, he said, was scarce, the soil comparatively poor; and unable to endorse Cook’s glowing eulogy, the captain decided to go further afield and explore the coast to the northward. This he did in three open boats. More out of curiosity than otherwise, they turned in between the Heads to have a look at Cook’s “open bay, in which there appeared to be good anchorage.” And thus was discovered the wonderful harbor and the site of the future capital of the colony.

After first landing at Manly Beach (so named because of the courage shown by the natives), a spot for the settlement was eventually selected on the banks of a small fresh water stream that fell into a cove on the southern side of the harbour.

Soon the whole fleet came round, and brought up in the little bay, which was promptly named Sydney Cove, in compliment to the secretary of State. “In it,” to use Phillips’ own words, “ships can anchor so close to the shore that at a very small expense quays may be made at which the largest ships may unload. This cove… is about a Quarter of a mile across at the entrance, and half a mile in length.” And here did the old Sirius and her consorts anchor in that space of water, surrounded by the site of what is known to us now as Circular Quay. Low hills, scrub-grown, ran down to the water’s edge, and represented the position of the future capital of a little more than a century later, when ocean steamers by the score should line the wharves of the cove, and the highest developments of science, commerce, and art have combined to form the great city behind and around it.

But to return. A space having been cleared in the scrub large enough the military and the convicts to camp upon, on the 26th day of January a company came ashore near the spot where, in Macquarie Place, now stands the Obelisk, the stone from which all the roads in the colony take their distance and measurement. The national flag was hoisted, the marines saluted and fired three volleys, and the Governor, surrounded by his officers, proposed the healths of “The King and the Royal Family” and “Success to the New Colony.” Later, on the 7th of February, there took place another ceremony no less impressive, when the colonists, numbering 1030, were all assembled, the convicts seated in a half circle, the marines paraded in front of them, and the officers grouped in the centre. Then Collins, the Judge Advocate, read the Governor’s commission, and the commission of the other officers, also the Act establishing the colony, and other formal documents. Then the marines fired three volleys, and the first Governor of New South Wales, after thanking his officers and soldiers for their behaviour so far, addressed the convicts, promising rewards to those who conducted themselves well; unsparing severity to offenders. After his speech the colonists dispersed, whilst Phillip and his principal officers partook of a cold repast already laid out in a marquee. During the proceedings, at intervals, the band played, and after the commissions were read, “God Save the King” was performed.

And thus was consummated the founding of the colony. The residence of the Governor, what he quaintly calls his “Canvas House,” and the tents of the officers, were pitched on the east side of the little creek (presently known as the Tank Stream), with the flag staff reared in front of them, and close to were planted the various fruit trees procured at Rio Janeiro and the Cape of Good Hope.

The marines and the convicts in their charge were housed in huts on the west side of the cove. Phillip writes to his patron, Lord Sydney: “I have the honor to enclose your Lordship the intended plan for the town. The Lieutenant-Governor has already begun a small house, which forms one corner of the parade, and I am building a small cottage on the east side of the cove, where I shall remain for the present with part of the convicts and an officer’s guard. The convicts are distributed in huts, which are built only for immediate shelter. On the point of land (now Dawes Point) which forms the west side of the cove, an observatory is building, under the direction of Lieutenant Dawes, who is charged by the Board of Longitude with observing the expected comet. We now make very good bricks, and the stone is good, but do not find either lime stone or chalk… The principal streets are placed so as to admit a free circulation of air, and are 200ft. wide.”

And in such wise was the founding of the city of Sydney. Unfortunately, succeeding Governors altered those wisely-laid out streets of Phillip’s, with the result of giving us the miserable lanes of the present day. All this, however, was the work of much time and labour, and for long only the principal officers could boast of being lodged in wooden huts; for the rest, it was still canvas. The hard gum timber blunted and broke the shoddy tools of the workmen, who, in addition, were anything but mechanics. Also, there were continual complications and troubles to retard the progress of the infant colony and its capital. Phillip writes: “I am very sorry to say that not only a great part of the clothing, particularly the women’s, is very bad, but most of the axes, spades, and shovels, the worst that ever were seen. The provision is as good. Of the seeds and corn sent from England part has been destroyed by the weevil; the rest is in good order.”

Most pathetic and forlorn must have appeared to us, could we of this latter day have seen it then, the little settlement on the shores of the Cove, with its few scattered buildings, most of them “formed of rough boards nailed to a few upright posts shabbily covered with bark,” and situated mainly on the hill lying to the north-west of the Cove. Stumps of trees studded the hardly indicated streets; no wharves, even of the rudest description, had yet been formed; except around the mouth of the Tank Stream the scrub grew thick to the water’s edge, and loomed grey and monotonous on every inland hill, on every harbor headland. And to those of us who, passing to and fro the Cove of to-day, and threading the busy streets of the great city behind it, ever cast a thought to the scene it must have presented in those early months, years, even, the whole thing should appear little less than a miracle.

But, despite all hardships, trials, and sufferings, the stout heart of the brave founder never failed him, his patience, nor his absolute faith ever wavered. He, however, was the sole exception. Let us see, for instance, what the Lieutenant-Governor, Ross, has to say about the business. Writing to Under-Secretary Nepean, he wails:

“Take my word for it, there is not a man in this place (he should have excepted his superior) but wishes to return home, and indeed they have no less than cause, for, I believe, there never was a set of people so much upon the parrish as this garrison is, and what little we want, even to a single nail, we must not send to the Commissary for it, but must apply to his Excellency for it; and when we do he alwayes sayes there is but little come out, and it is but little we get… If you want a true description of the country, it is only to be found amongst many of the private letters sent home; however, I will, in confidence, venture to assure you that this country will never answer to settle in, for, although I think corn will grow here, yet I am convinced that if ever it is able to maintain the people here, it cannot be in less time than probably a hundred years hence. I, therefore, think it will be cheaper to feed the convicts on turtle and venison at the London Tavern than be at the expense of sending them here.”

This was written only six months after landing. And early though this was to show the white feather, the dreariness of the outlook and the weary hopelessness of the life might have excused a much stronger man than Ross was for weakening under the strain. There, however, can be no excuse for his incessant grumbling, and attempt to put every possible obstacle in the Governor’s way, instead of doing what he could to help him through his many and constant troubles.

As time passed, bricks were made, stones hewn, timber shaped, and houses built, in spite of difficulties which had at first sight appeared almost insurmountable. The winter rains made matters terribly uncomfortable for both bond and free; but the hardships thus engendered acted as a spur to them to provide efficient shelter from the elements.

Thus, in the winter of 1788. we find the settlers busily employed in carrying out the details of Phillip’s plan, long since dispatched to Lord Sydney. Barracks for marines were erected; houses for the Governor and the Lieutenant-Governor; the hospital was roofed with shingles, and the Observatory begun at the future Dawes Point. This last building, however, was scarcely finished before it was found to be too small, not only for its principal object, but to accommodate the lieutenant’s family. So the masons and other workmen set about building another Observatory in the same spot. On the other hand, the barracks, when finished, proved far too large for the military alone, and, therefore, was partially used as a store. The greatest inconvenience was felt throughout these operations for lack of men with any practical knowledge of building and the other trades necessary to make any progress with the erection of the city.

In October, 1789, came about a rather momentous event, no less than the launching of the first boat built in the colony. This craft was intended for the transport of stores from the newly-formed farm at Rose Hill, close to where Parramatta now stands. The boat was a huge and unwieldy specimen of the builder’s art. The convicts called it satirically the “Rose Hill Packet.” Then, learning by much hard experience how difficult it was to shift her, they altered that fancy name to the more appropriate one of “The Lump.” A magazine was about this time erected near the Observatory, and a house built for the Judge Advocate. The roadways—bogs in wet weather, and dust-heaps in dry, were made a little more passable towards Christmas time. Also a guard-house was built on the east side of the cove, close to the bridge, that had been thrown over the Tank Stream.

In the beginning of 1790 a flagstaff was erected at the South Head, by means of which the arrival of ships could be signalled to the infant Sydney. And from there during the terrible year of ‘90 many anxious eyes swept the desolate ocean for signs of that relief so eagerly expected. Food was giving out and necessaries of every description, and famine stared the embryo colony in the face. For nearly two years the colonists had been isolated. Apparently the Home Government had forgotten their very existence, notwithstanding many appeals from Phillip. And but for that same Phillip it is quite possible that not only would there be no Sydney to-day, but that Australia would be under French or Dutch rule instead of British. If Ross, for instance, had been in Phillip’s place the chances are twenty to one that on his lachrymose representations all attempt at colonisation would have been abandoned. But, fortunately for us, and for England, too, Phillip, the naval sea-captain, was the man of all men fitted for the occasion.

Famine was upon him and his charges, and night and day the seamen of the Sirius kept watch at the new flagstaff in hopes of being able to signal to the town the approach of those supply-ships that everybody believed with the most implicit faith must be long ere this well on their way from England.

But the events of this memorable year of 1790 are history, and Sydney, owing to disease and famine, grew little or nothing in size during it.

A fresh storehouse was finished, and a landing place formed at the head of the Cove; and, the bad year once passed, the young settlement seems to have steadily, if slowly, grown and spread, first along the foreshores and the course of the Tank Stream, until, cradled though it had been in despair and famine, and handicapped by the quality of its inhabitants, it presently began to be apparent to everyone that there was forming on the shores of the cove the nucleus of a city. In 1792 Phillip left the colony and went home to England, more secure than ever in the belief, which, indeed, had never deserted him, that the prosperity of the settlement was thoroughly assured.

One incident of ‘91 should be noted, in that the first convict settler, who had made a declaration that he was able to support himself on a farm he had occupied for fifteen months, received a grant of 140 acres of land. At the present day many of our settlers would be only too proud to be able to declare a similar fact.

In 1792 flour was 9d. per lb.; potatoes were 3d. per lb. A sheep cost £10 10s; a milch goat, £8 8s; breeding sows, each £7 7s to £10 10s; laying fowls, 10s. By these figures it may be seen what terrific value was attached to live stock of any description in these early days.

Tea was a luxury, indeed, at 8s to 16s per lb. Sugar was comparatively cheap at 1s 6d per lb. Spirits at 12s to 20s per gallon were cheaper than at present, and porter at 1s per quart was within the reach of most people. At this time, and for a score of years afterwards, it must be remembered that spirits, chiefly rum, were the ordinary currency of the colony. When Hunter arrived, in 1795, the whole population, with the exception of 179, was dependent on the public stores for rations.

Briefly, the events of his five years’ term embraced the first use of the printing press, the discovery of the lost herd of cattle, and the forming of the settlement of Newcastle, on the Hunter River.

So far as Sydney itself was concerned, the only building of importance seems to have been that of the first school. Here 300 children were taught, and, after service each Sunday, catechised by the Rev. Mr. Johnson. Various windmills, too, were erected to grind the settlers’ corn. This was done gratuitously by the government. In 1800 Captain Hunter was superseded by Captain King.

During the latter’s term the Female Orphan School, of which more anon, was founded; the first issue of copper coin took place. A notable incident was the establishment by a prisoner, Geo. Howe, of the first Australian newspaper, known as the “Sydney Gazette and New South Wales Advertiser.’’ This was in 1803, and original files of this ancient newspaper are now so scarce as to be very valuable. The editorial address accompanying the first issue runs:

“Innumerable as the obstacles were which threatened to oppose our Undertaking, yet we are happy to affirm that they are not unsurmountable, however difficult the task before us. The utility of a paper in the colony, as it must open a source of solid information will we hope be universally felt and acknowledged. We have courted the assistance of the Ingenious and Intelligent. We open no channel to Political discussion or Personal Animadversion. Information is our only purpose; that accomplished, we shall consider that we have done our duty in exertion to merit the Approbation of the Public and so secure a liberal patronage to the ‘Sydney Gazette.’ ”