Chapter XIX: Section VIII

It will be proper, however, first to retrace the penal history of these settlements, and to mark the incidents which moulded their form, and contributed to their failure or success. The administration of the penal laws cannot be understood, except by a broad and continuous survey. The developments of one colony re-acted on the other: Van Diemen's Land, long the satellite of New South Wales, attended all its motions, and with it prospered or suffered. From the fortunes of that colony, the history of Tasmania is inseparable.

The evils described, were not of a recent origin; they may be traced from the commencement of penal colonisation: the journals of the first officers exhibit all sorts of mischief, which only entered into new combinations as times advanced, and property was diffused. Collins, whose account descended to the close of the century, records a perpetual struggle with vice and crime. What could be expected of men who burned their gaol at the risk of their lives, and the church to escape attendance on worship?

The first expiree, James Rouse, who was established (1790) as a settler, was industrious and successful. Phillip, anxious to test the competence of the land to sustain a cultivator, cleared two acres for this man, erected his hut, and supplied him with food. Fifteen months after, he relinquished his claim on the King's stores, and received thirty acres of land, in reward for his diligence. It thus became common to afford similar facilities to expiree convicts,[97] but generally in vain.

The solicitude of Phillip was displayed in every form of kindness; but the proneness of his subjects to intemperance, defeated all his efforts: he gave them stock; and had scarcely left the land, when his gifts were sold for rum. His successor was not more successful, when he tried the same plan. Cargoes of American spirit produced the madness of intoxication; and the freed settlers neglected their farms, or anticipated their produce to obtain the liquid destruction. Their passion for gaming was universal: they sometimes staked not only their money and their goods, but even their clothing, and were seen to labor in the field, as free from clothing as the savages who surrounded them.

In spite of the dread of famine, they consumed their time and substance in intemperance: sold their seed, lent to insure their harvest. In the distribution of stores, robberies were daily committed; double rations were issued; and Collins ingenuously confesses, that office converted the most trusty into thieves; and that peculations were forgiven, because a change of agency was useless. All in superior circumstances, unprotected by military vigilance, were robbed and robbed again. Missionaries, who fled from Tahiti, found their countrymen more savage than strangers: one was wounded, and plundered of all his property; and another, murdered with an axe, while writing a receipt for a payment, which his destroyer thus hoped to evade. The Governor, in an imploring tone, enumerated the robberies which every day occurred, and hoped that the constables, in whose presence they were committed, did not profit by such crimes! Those who obtained their freedom, were a source of infinite annoyance: unable to depart from the country, they refused all kinds of labor; and, joined with others equally worthless, astonished the officers by the vigour and ingenuity of their spoliations.

The account given by Collins, is a valuable delineation of society when set free from moral influence, and proves how little simple coercion can check a general disposition to crime. So rare was reformation, that a single instance is mentioned with triumph: among the few who redeemed that settlement from utter dishonor, was George Barrington, celebrated for his dexterity as a pickpocket, and for his pathos at the bar; who robbed a prince with the grace of a courtier, and was the _beau ideal_ of swindlers. He was distinguished in New South Wales for his integrity in the office of chief constable, and his diligence as a farmer. He died regretted, in the year this dependency was colonised.[98]

Governor Hunter authorised the opening of a theatre at Sydney. The principal actors were convicts, and in default of a chamberlain, they were threatened, for a second offence, with the _penal_ settlement. The price of admission, one shilling, was paid in meal or rum, taken at the door! Many had performed the part of pickpocket in a London play-house, but at Sydney this was more difficult; yet they were not discouraged: they saw by a glance at the benches what houses were left unprotected, and proceeded to rob them. The motto of the actors was modest:--"We cannot command success; but we will endeavour to deserve it." Their first play was _The Revenge_: the first prologue, characteristic both of the actors and the audience. The aptitude of one of these couplets, has transferred it into a proverb; but it is worth seeing in its connexion, as a representation of the real sentiments with which violations of the law were remembered.[99]