The History of Tasmania, Volume II | Page 6

In 1810, an order was issued by Governor Collins, forcibly describing
the wrongs of the natives, and the revenge to which they were
prompted. They had pursued an officer, residing at Herdsman's Cove,
and failing to capture him they fired his premises. Two persons, George
Getley and William Russell, had disappeared: it was supposed, the
victims of resentment, awakened by the "abominable cruelties and
murders" (such is the language of Collins) perpetrated by the white
people. This Russell was himself notorious for skill in their torture--the
subject of his boast. The government declared that persons who
wantonly fired on the natives, or murdered them "in cold blood,"

should suffer the last penalties of the law.[3]
The official treatment of the aborigines was not always judicious, or
calculated to impress the whites with the notion of civil equality. A
native, whom it was deemed desirable to detain, was fettered by
Colonel Collins. Notwithstanding, he escaped, and was seen long after
with the iron on his leg; nor can the punishments inflicted for crimes
committed against the blacks, unusual as those punishments were, be
given in proof that both races were valued alike. It is not, however, true,
that cruelty was always unpunished. A man was severely flogged for
exposing the ears of a boy he had mutilated; and another for cutting off
the little finger of a native, and using it as a tobacco stopper.[4]
The natives continued to shun the settlement for many years, but their
confidence was easily renewed by gentle treatment; it was, however,
capricious, or more probably it was soon shaken by insult, unknown to
all but themselves. It was desired by Colonel Davey to establish a
friendly intercourse, and he instructed the men to invite the tribes they
might encounter. A servant of this governor, employed at South Arm,
suddenly came on a tribe of thirty-six persons. A native woman, living
with a white, willingly went forth to communicate the wishes of the
Governor. They consented to visit Hobart Town, to which they were
transferred by water. Davey endeavoured to win their confidence, and
they remained about town for weeks. Having received some offence
from worthless Europeans, they retreated to their woods, and never
returned. This party attempted to reach Bruné Island, and all were
drowned, except one woman.
Mr. Knopwood remembered that, in 1813 and 1814, the natives were
fed at his door. A number of children were forcibly taken from them,
and they disappeared from the camp.
Colonel Davey bears witness to the continuance of cruelty, which he
censured in the strongest language of indignation. Certain settlers
established a species of juvenile slavery: they followed up the mother,
retarded by the encumbrance of her children, until she was compelled
in her terror to leave them. Well might the Governor declare, that crime
so enormous had fixed a lasting stigma on the British name. These

provocations produced their usual consequences: by spearing cattle,
and other acts of hostility, a tribe at the Coal River revenged the
robbery of their children; surely, a slight retaliation for such incredible
wickedness.
An expedition to Macquarie Harbour, in 1817, discovered a tribe
hitherto unknown. They received the first visit with the usual
friendliness--a feeling which was, however, of short duration.
The Oyster Bay tribe are mentioned. They had begun to exhibit that
spirit of hostility which made them a terror to the colony, and armed
the entire community against them. They had speared one man, and
killed another; but the origin of this feeling is distinctly stated: a native
had been shot in an expedition to capture some aboriginal children.
Sorell prolongs the testimony that tells so mournfully in behalf of the
natives. He speaks of firing on the blacks as a habit; that child-stealing
was practised in the remoter districts; that settlers had adopted
groundless prejudices against the unfortunate people, as alike incapable
and unworthy of conciliation; that they offered no serious
discountenance to the cruelty of their servants. Thus several whites had
perished, and cattle had been speared, in revenge.[5] He reminded the
colonists that, as their flocks increased and the shepherds extended their
range, this obvious method of retaliation, then rarely adopted, would
multiply the loss both of property and human life. The danger was
proved by examples:--In 1819, a collision occurred; a man on each side
killed, and cattle and sheep were speared; but, the account continues,
the stock-keepers detained and maltreated the wife of a chief. Either on
this, or some such occasion, they were pursued by a party of the 48th
regiment, and seventeen were slain. He maintains very strenuously the
opinion of his predecessors, that the aborigines were not often the
aggressors, and that the injuries they inflicted were committed under
the impulse of recent provocation.
Sorell provided for the native children, except those