The History of Tasmania, Volume II | Page 5

convicts and soldiers were drawn up to oppose them. A discharge of
fire-arms threw them into momentary panic, but they soon re-united. A
second, of ball cartridge, brought down many; the rest fled in terror,
and were pursued: it is conjectured that fifty fell.
The accounts of this affair differ greatly. By one party they are said to
have assailed a man and woman living in advance of the camp, and to
have burned their hut. William White, who saw them earliest, and gave
notice of their approach, declared they then exhibited no hostility, and
were not near the hut before the collision. They came down in a
semicircle, carrying waddies but not spears; a flock of kangaroo
hemmed in between them. The women and children attended them.
They came singing, and bearing branches of trees.
This curvilinear mode of marching was noticed by Labillardière: they
probably assembled for a corrobory. "They looked at me," said the
witness, "with all their eye;" but they did not attempt to molest him.

For the British, it may be alleged that customs, afterwards understood,
were then less known. They were ignorant of the language and temper
of the blacks, and the preservation of the settlement was the first
military duty of Lieutenant Moore, who directed the fire. The action
was sudden, and perhaps no statement is exact. The natives were
provoked, by the occupation of their common place of resort, and it is
no discredit to their character, if even they attempted to expel the
intruders.
A current report, respecting a conflict on the site of the hospital at
Hobart Town, received a curious exposition from the Rev. Mr.
Knopwood. It was a tradition, that a party of blacks assembled there,
were dispersed by a volley of grape shot, and that several fell. Human
bones and grape shot were found; but the reverend gentleman stated
that the bones were the remains of persons who came from India, and
who were buried there; and that the shot were accidentally dropped
when the stores, once kept there, were removed.
The consequences of these events were lamentable. The losses of the
natives, in their ordinary warfare, rarely extended beyond two or three;
but the havock of their new enemy awakened irremediable distrust. The
sorrows of a savage are transient: not so, his resentment. Every wrong
is new, until it is revenged; and there is no reason to suppose these
terrible sacrifices were ever forgotten.
In these collisions, no British subject had fallen; but in the succeeding
year (1805) a prisoner of the crown was speared, while following a
kangaroo; and two years after (1807) another, named Mundy, met with
a similar fate. The black had received presents from his hands, and
approaching him in pretended amity, trailed between his toes the fatal
spear. These facts are given to illustrate the cruelty of the natives; and it
may be presumed that, from the slaughter of Risdon, not many could be
added to the number. These were, however, the acts of individuals, and
without concert or much premeditation. It is conjectured that the first
European who perished was Mangé, the surgeon of the Geographé, in
1802. The attack was unprovoked, and it is said unavenged.
The scarcity of food compelled the British to adopt a mode of life

somewhat resembling that of the aborigines. Germain, a marine, was
employed, from 1805 to 1810, in procuring kangaroo, which he hunted
with dogs: he but rarely carried a gun, slept on the ground in the
summer, and in the winter on the branches of trees. During his
wanderings, he often encountered the natives, but they offered no
violence; and he stated, as the result of his experience, that until
bushrangers excited them by cruelties, "there was no harm in them."
The daughter of a settler of 1804, was left sometimes in their care; their
kindness was among the recollections of her childhood.
The prisoners were dispersed. The government, unable to supply the
common necessaries of life, gave them license to forage: labor could
not be exacted, nor discipline enforced; and when circumstances altered,
it was difficult to recall the wanderers, or to recover authority so long
relaxed. In their intercourse with the natives, licentious and cruel
outlaws committed every species of atrocity which could be suffered by
the weak in contact with the wicked.
Lord Hobart, under whose auspices the colony was planted, directed
the Lieutenant-Governor to conciliate the natives: to preserve them
from oppression, and to encourage them to resort for protection to his
authority. Their natural rights were recognised, but unhappily no
provision was made to define their interest in the soil of their country.
Their migratory habits were unfavorable to official supervision, and the
success of humane suggestions depended on the doubtful concurrence
of ignorant cotters and wandering shepherds.