Читать книгу History of Tasmania - John West - Страница 12

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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:—

Sacred

to the Memory of

DAVID COLLINS, ESQ.,

Lieutenant Governor of this Colony,

and Lieutenant Colonel of the Royal Marine Forces.

On the first establishment of the colony of

New South Wales he was employed as Judge Advocate,

And in the year 1803

he was entrusted by his Majesty's government

with the command of an expedition,

destined to form a settlement at Port Phillip,

on the south coast of New Holland;

but which was subsequently removed to

Van Diemen's Land.

—————

Under his direction as Lieutenant Governor,

the site of this town was chosen,

and the foundation of its first building

laid in 1804.

He died here on the 28th of March, 1810,[73] aged 56 years. And this monument long projected was erected to his memory in 1838, by direction of His Excellency Sir John Franklin, K.C.H., K.R.