The Aborigines of Australia/Chapter 11

by Roderick Flanagan

CHAPTER XI.

MISGIVINGS — TRIBES OF BOTANY BAY AND PORT
JACKSON — MANLY COVE AND RUSHCUTTERS'
BAY.

When, on the 17th and 18th of January, 1788, the fleet destined for the colonization of New Holland, for the second time in the history of navigation dividing these waters with a European keel, passed through the heads of Botany Bay, the motley host of marines, sailors, and prisoners which crowded the decks to gaze on the surrounding scenery were greeted from the shore by loud shouts, uttered in a strange and unknown language. A little observation showed that these sounds proceeded from groups of the aboriginal inhabitants of the country, who, in threatening attitudes, their formidable spears resting on their throwing-sticks, seemed to menace from the land the ships and their occupants. Presently the people on board the fleet believed they could distinguish some of the words to which those singular landsmen gave utterance, and, loud above all others, they fancied they could hear the exclamation "Wara wara." These words were, as before observed, accompanied by threatening gestures and a display of every description of arms, indicating that the then possessors of the country were not pleased with the appearance of so formidable an array of those huge canoes on their fishing waters, and that they still less relished the coming among them of so large a force of a strange and powerful people as they beheld swarming on the ships. A few days afterwards, when the same fleet—the commanders of the expedition finding that Botany Bay was not a safe anchorage, and that the country in its immediate vicinity was not a desirable locality for establishing the settlement—sailed round and entered Port Jackson, the same mystical sounds of "Wara-wara" greeted the ears of the people in the squadron as they passed the numerous outstretching headlands and the beautiful retreating bays of the magnificent harbour, now for the first time explored by civilized men. Subsequently, when the Europeans came to have intercourse with the aborigines, and acquired something of their dialects, it was found that these words with which the colonists were first greeted in their new home meant simply "Go away! go away!" And well might the original inhabitants of these delightful localities exclaim to the intruders "Go away!" for there can be little doubt that whatever of felicity the simple nature and uncultivated ways of the New Hollander permitted him to enjoy was here possessed by him to the fullest extent. That peninsula on which the city at present stands, almost encircled by Cook's River on one side, and by the waters of the bay now known as Long Cove on the other, must have been in those days a land teeming with milk and honey for the tribes by which it was possessed. In those silent, sheltered bays, rivers, and creeks which surrounded and interspersed the country in endless variety, like the carvings in a piece of elaborate sculpture, fish of every description was to be obtained at all seasons in the greatest abundance; numerous freshwater lagoons, swamps, and rivulets were diffused over the face of the land, which swarmed with excellent game, to be readily procured by the snare, or offering a tempting object on which the aboriginal marksman might exercise his skill in the use of the boomerang. The country, thickly wooded or covered by a low brushwood or heath, and in some parts producing a rich pasture, afforded a retreat and sustenance to numbers of those quadrupeds which formed the flocks and herds of the tribes, while wild honey and wild fruit were found in such plenty as to render them of little value as articles of food. Under these peculiar circumstances it is not to be wondered at that the New Hollanders at first displayed so little hospitality towards the strangers, and that, in their own way, they entered so decided, although ineffectual, a protest against the seizure of their lands. It may be that even a stronger motive than the dread of immediate disturbances actuated the New Hollanders on these shores in their aversion to the settlement of the country. Who will say that a gleam of prophetic inspiration did not then foreshadow to the mind of the black man of Botany Bay and Port Jackson the fearful fact that, in sixty years after the coming of these strangers, his entire people would have disappeared from the face of the land—a whole-offering sacrificed at the shrine of civilization?^[1]

At the period above referred to the tribes inhabiting the country in the immediate vicinity of Port Jackson and Botany Bay appear to have been numerous in proportion to the advantages which they enjoyed as to territory. They inhabited both sides of the harbour, and were found dispersed over the entire country along the coast as far as Broken Bay, where a large and distinct tribe was located. One of the first voyagers speaks of them as appearing to be "a very lively, inquisitive race—a straight and thin but well-made people, small in their limbs, but very active." Numerous are the anecdotes extant of the first colonists and their unsophisticated neighbours, with whom they wisely, endeavoured to cultivate the most friendly relations. To this the Europeans were urged both as a matter of precaution against their hostility and as a matter of policy, in securing their assistance in their efforts towards exploring and settling the country. In general the aborigines, after a time, evinced no indisposition to reciprocate the friendly feeling of the new-comers, but, as the fact became established that the latter intended to settle themselves permanently in the country, and as their encroachments became more extensive, a shyness and reserve began to be observed in the manners of the blacks, which occasionally broke out into decided hostility. The first quarrel arose from the intrusion of the whites on the fishing grounds of the tribes. When the fleet sailed from England for the purpose of founding the colony, it was very naturally anticipated that, owing to the distance of the settlement from Europe, a scarcity of provisions would, in the course of time, be experienced. Accordingly, a number of fishing seines were procured, to be used as occasion might require for the benefit of the colony; and one of the first measures adopted by the chiefs of the settlement was the formation of a fishing party, who, on certain days, proceeded to one of the bays lying towards the sea, for the purpose of casting the seine. It was one of the instructions given to this party that a portion of whatever fish might be taken should be given to the aborigines who happened to be present at the time—an instruction always complied with. The custom, however, like other customs, soon grew into a law; so thought the Port Jackson tribe, a number of whom came on the fishermen one day when they had made a very successful haul, and carried away, without asking permission, a large portion of the best of the fish, several of their brethren being stationed on a neighbouring rock during the transaction, prepared to discharge their spears in the event of a contest. This led to an armed party being thenceforward sent with the fishers, and, the gratuitous distribution to the aborigines being discontinued in consequence of the nefarious appropriation just mentioned, ill-will towards the Europeans on the part of the former was the result. Another principal cause which led to mutual distrust between the two races was an unfortunate affray which took place about this time, at Botany, between the seamen of the French expedition, under La Perouse, and the aborigines. The two vessels composing this great navigator's fleet anchored in Botany Bay on the day succeeding the arrival of Governor Phillip's squadron, and, remaining there after the departure of the latter fleet for Port Jackson, a misunderstanding arose between the French and the Botany tribe, which resulted in the former using their firearms and shooting down a few of the latter. The New Hollanders being unable to distinguish between the two nations, and looking on all white people as the same, considered the punishment they had received as the act of all, and believed themselves justified in retaliating on English and French indiscriminately. Some efforts were made by the authorities, shortly after their arrival in the colony, to ascertain the numbers of the aboriginal population in the vicinity of the settlement. For this purpose the first measure adopted was to despatch a party to visit the several bays of the harbour, to ascertain the number of canoes which the blacks possessed. These were found to amount to the large number of 67, each capable of carrying from two to five or six individuals; from which it may be inferred that the population in the immediate vicinity which continually, or from time to time, engaged in fishing operations was very considerable. A party of twelve soldiers, on one occasion, travelling across the country from Sydney to Botany, for the purpose, if possible, of seizing certain blacks who had committed some depredations among the colonists, fell in with a group of aboriginals amounting to 212 in all. On the approach of the military the women and children took shelter in a cave, while the men came boldly forward, armed with their spears and clubs, and by voice and gesture warned the strangers off. On the officer in command, however, making friendly signs, and giving them to understand that he did not entertain hostile intentions, the aboriginals laid down their arms and a peaceable interview took place, when it was discovered that the offenders did not form a part of this tribe. Although the Europeans were, on this occasion, completely in the power of the blacks, the latter did not evince the slightest disposition to act with treachery; but they manifested some impatience during the stay of the former, and seemed pleased when they were departing. From the two foregoing facts and other similar data it has been pretty accurately ascertained that the aboriginal population of the country immediately adjoining the coast, extending from Port Jackson to Broken Bay, amounted, at the founding of the colony, to 1,500 persons—a large population for so limited an extent of country, and capable of offering very effective resistance to the progress of the infant colony, if so disposed and if influenced by common motives.

Few, if any, of the citizens of Sydney are unacquainted with those localities, situate between Sydney and the Heads, known as Manly Beach and Rushcutters' Bay. The former of these localities has been beyond recollection the favourite resort of amateur fishermen and the more adventurous class of pleasure-seeking excursionists; the other is the long-established rendezvous of "cits" and their families, seeking every Sabbath a little relaxation amid the pleasures of rustic scenery from the monotonous recurrence of their everyday avocations; yet comparatively few of those who from time to time derive pleasure from a visit to those scenes are aware of the origin of the names by which they are designated—if, indeed, they have ever given the subject so much as a passing thought. Well, now that we have, as we fondly imagine, excited their curiosity on this point, we purpose to satisfy the inquiries which must naturally follow. And, first, to describe one of these scenes: Manly Cove, or Manly Beach as it is sometimes called, is one of the first of these indentations of the harbour to be met with, on the north side, after entering the Heads; it is sheltered, as most of these beautiful little bays are, by a gently ascending enclosure, covered with a luxuriant wood—the surrounding eminence separated from the waters of the bay by a sloping sandy beach, extending into the harbour for several paces at a moderate depth. Here it was that, a day or two after the arrival of the fleet in Botany Bay, the boats despatched by the Commodore for the purpose of exploring Port Jackson; previous to transferring the fleet thence, were surrounded by a number of aborigines, who waded into the water, and, after examining the boats and scrutinizing everything they saw, received whatever presents were offered them, and returned highly pleased. The frank, fearless, and manly bearing of the New Hollanders on this occasion suggested to the good taste of the first Governor the name which the spot bears to the present day. It is to be regretted that the other locality should not have received its designation from circumstances similarly auspicious and similarly pleasing to all parties. But as in the best plays of the great dramatist the serious succeeds to the comic, and tears give place to laughter, so in the two matters under consideration a tragic occurrence succeeds to a serio-comic scene, and as the one gave a name to Manly Beach, so the other conferred on the locality where the occurrence took place the appellation which it retains to the present day. No sooner had the site of the new city been chosen, at the head of Sydney Cove, than the workmen of the colony were set about constructing cottages and barracks for the reception of the several classes of people of which the infant community was composed. Wood and stone were to be found in abundance in the immediate vicinity, so that little difficulty stood in the way of the performance of the chief part of this work; but when the primitive buildings came to be roofed a difficulty presented itself in the want of material for covering. Slates were out of the question; the art of shingle-making was not as yet known or practised; thatch only remained, but whence was even this homely material to come? Some fertile genius, whose faculties brightened in emergency, suggested that rushes would answer the purpose, if they could be found. Accordingly parties were despatched to explore the marshy spots in the neighbourhood of the town, where such would be likely to grow, and at the head of a bay about two miles east of Sydney they were found in abundance, thickly fringing a stream, whose source was a small cascade about half a mile from the beach, and which wound its way thence through a sheltered valley to the waters of the bay. To this spot accordingly were despatched every day two men for the purpose of cutting and drying the rushes, which were conveyed to the town when so prepared by other parties. One evening, those two men failing to return as was their wont to their companions at the Cove, a party was next morning sent to ascertain the cause of their absence, and on proceeding to the spot the lifeless bodies of the unfortunate rushcutters were found, at some distance apart, pierced with several spear wounds and battered with many blows. Hence Rushcutters' Bay.

1. From semi-official information, recently made public, it appears that the aborigines of the county of Cumberland have become entirely extinct.