Cattle Chosen/Chapter 2

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search

II[edit]

YOUNG PIONEERS

John Bussell was twenty-six, Charles nineteen, Vernon sixteen, and Alfred fourteen when they set out in the good ship 'Warrior'. Wooden sailing-ships were things of beauty no doubt when seen from without. They were commonly, from within, places of discomfort and even of misery during voyages to the Antipodes, which lasted a hundred days, more often more than less. The frayed nerves that prolonged contact with a small, haphazard company may produce, even in a comfortable liner, were invariably tried to snapping-point on the tedious sailing with its ill-balanced rations, badly found. Ships free of the 'terror that walketh by night' were rare indeed. Cabin passengers, as were Captain and Mrs. Molloy on the 'Warrior', lived in the stern cabins under the poop-deck, and enjoyed the freshest air. One might imagine from the charter stipulations &mdashl fresh provisions, wine and every necessary — that they fared sumptuously. They did, if in addition to fitting out their cabins, as they were required to do, with bedding, linen and furniture, they had stocked well a private larder. The Bussell boys travelled steerage, and, somewhat unusually for that class, had also fitted their own cabins. Steerage passengers were allowed bread, salt beef, salt pork, tea, sugar, flour, peas and oatmeal on a set scale, new bedding and medical attendance. 'No steerage passenger', ran an ominous rule, 'is allowed to take his own bedding aboard.'

The fitting of their cabin in the steerage had its drawbacks. In a postscript written there in January 1830, John described himself as 'sitting in a dark cabin with the decks leaking upon my letter huge drops of the effusions of swine and cattle.' Every letter written on or concerning the voyage was significantly full of praise for the provisions with which relatives and friends had laden them at their setting out.

'The biscuit that we were so inclined to leave behind proved of all things the most useful, as Fimpel, in character with the rest of his rascality, had supplied the ship with such inferior stuff that it was pronounced unwholesome by the doctor. The hams and preserves were excellent. In fact, everything is, so that you must not fail to thank again the Petersfield friends.'

Charles set down with care 'a few hints to William', who was expected to follow immediately, 'concerning the stipulations he ought to make with the charterer. The first and foremost appears to be that of having water allowed for his dogs, if he bring any out, and I hope he will by no means neglect old Caustic. Secondly, safe and dry stowage for their provisions, in case he feeds them himself, which we think most advisable. Our dogs from that circumstance are in better condition than any others in the ship.... As to provisions for his own use, we recommend his taking out a few sacks of potatoes. We miss Ireland's lazy root more than any other article whatever. Secondly, pickles, biscuits, gingerbread, arrowroot, wine. In fact, almost everything which your providence supplied he will find very grateful, but I think nothing more so than the gingerbread sent from our friends at Petersfield. The pickles we have found super.... Let him lay in a good stock of coffee: it is the only thing that will render the water palatable. One word more. Let every agreement which he makes with the charterer be in writing.'

In the same letter, posted at the Cape, Charles describes their life aboard ship:

'You have seen our cabin and will be able to picture it to yourself, surrounded on all sides with chests, boxes, gun-cases, etc., which we use for seats, with a chest of drawers in the middle, which we all use for a table. Here may be seen John perhaps reading, Vernon making a pudding for to-morrow s dinner, Alfred superintending the making of some cooling beverage, or devising methods of sweetening the water, which is fœtid to that degree, and myself perhaps taking a siesta on the sofa which Mr. — has most admirably constructed for us. Until lately it has been our custom to go up on the poop every day immediately after breakfast, with our books, and to remain there three or four hours playing chess or engaged in conversation with the ladies, for although we took books we found it impossible to read. This comfort — and it was a very great one — we have been compelled to forego on account of a disturbance in which steerage passengers were somewhat implicated. The result was an order from the Captain that no steerage passengers should go on any account abaft the mainmast, which order we, of course, felt ourselves called upon to obey. We undoubtedly miss the awning and other conveniences peculiar to the poop, but we have all too much stoicism to allow ourselves to be annoyed with trifles of this description.'

John was not long in finding another retreat. 'I have adopted the main-top as a refuge from eternal noise and foul savours.' Thence he could survey the narrow, nervous realm as from Olympus.

One incident on the voyage out, however, had ruffled even his customary detachment. While waiting to be taken off by the ship's boats after a visit to St. Jago (? C. Verde Islands), he and Charles decided to bathe. 'And what think you happened? The lubber undressed himself in the presence of great part of the crew of a pirate that lay in the bay, with his tempting belt around him, nor did he perceive what he had done till he came out of the water and was informed by me. You may suppose that no one could have guessed what it contained, but I understand it is the usual way for seamen to carry their money. The sun was now declining, and while Charles was putting on the often fatal boots, the sun set, and darkness almost immediately shrouded the whole scene.... There were left besides ourselves several passengers, many decided snobs, very drunk, and one or two gentlemen. One of the most drunken seemed particularly inclined to pick a quarrel with the black ruffians who were jabbering in their unintelligible language. We scarce hoped to put off that night, as the natives are so lazy that they will seldom put out a boat after sunset. Two that could be persuaded took off most of the women. By this time I had quieted our drunken friend by a good sowsing.' The party returned to the town a quarter of a mile off, and there, 'after many different doubts and resolutions', fell in with some of the crew, and got a passage in one of the ship's boats, to the evident relief of the guardians of the belt.

In the eyes of their fellow-emigrants, the four boys bade fair to make good wherever they went. The Governor, Captain Stirling, to whom they presented Yates's letter of introduction, may have shared this opinion. Earlier arrivals at his new 'Plain of Lombardy', the coastal limestone and sandy Swan and Canning valleys, had already 'pegged out' all the land, good and bad, near Fremantle and Perth. Stirling advised the Bussells and Captain Molloy to make a fresh start, a sub-colony two hundred miles south, in the vicinity of Cape Leeuwin. Thither, in May 1830, with three families, some labourers and a small naval force, they went into isolation even from the isolated Swan. The wide estuary of the Blackwood River opens, over a bar, into Flinders Bay, a roadstead exposed to the S.E. trade-wind in summer, but affording shelter from the winter storms which blow from the N.W. and S.W. The newcomers felt themselves the founders of a port, des- tined by its geographical position to be a great trading centre. They reasoned that such mighty woods must spring from a productive soil. 'The society here,' John assured his cousin, Capel Carter, 'is confined but good. Capt. Molloy of the Rifles, and spouse, with ourselves, constitute the gentle settlers. Mr. Turner, a nice little Cockney tradesman with considerable financial resources' — he was a building surveyor — 'completes our stationary residents.' From later letters it appears that the group numbered some thirty odd souls, including Mr. Turner's seven children and the sailors, shortly to be replaced by a small detachment of the 63rd Regiment of Foot.

'The land is fertile', reported John to his mother in August 1830, 'the grand difficulty is clearing away trees of stupendous magnitude and great hardness. Horticulture is all we attempt at present. The potatoes from the box you so nicely packed we have just dug. Owing, however, to the season when we were obliged to put them in, and the weakness of the sets, from the length of shoots they had put forth, we have a crop of marbles rather than potatoes.... Tell Capel I am reading Paley's Moral Philosophy.'

Vernon tells the tale of their first essay in building and clearing:

'While the garden was getting on under the superintendence of Mr. Herring, an old man Charles and I fell in with on the voyage from London to Portsmouth, we turned our thoughts towards building a house. The first thing we did was to get the frame up and thatch it with rushes, which are here in great abundance, much to the convenience of new settlers. It was in thatching that John hurt his little finger. By constantly pulling on a small twine in tying the rushes to the lathes he so injured the tendon that I am sorry to say he has completely lost the use of it. While John was laid up we proceeded but slowly with the house, he being chief in the building department. As soon as he got well, having a nice roof over our heads, we commenced a large farm-house chimney with the stone that came from the garden. Using nothing but red clay for mortar, and rubble stones, we built the walls exceedingly thick, as Mr. Herring told us he had often seen in Rutlandshire, where lime is scarce and stone abundant.... We now commenced to get down some of the trees behind the house, which are of the most prodigious size. When we began upon the first we merely cut a few of the roots, thinking that when we let the one behind fall on it it would knock it over! However, in this we were mistaken. Dr. Simmonds and Mr. McLeod now began to take great interest in these two trees, which seemed to threaten the house in which they had passed many a pleasant evening. To let another tree fall upon those which mutually propped each other was our next expedient. This, however, failed, but started the first one at the roots considerably, and by the aid of the Jack-in-the-box we threw them over quite clear of the house, much to the satisfaction of the doctor, who fully expected they would have fallen and crushed that "splendid piece of masonry", as he used to call the chimney.'

With the coming of fine weather, several expeditions were led by John to inspect the hinterland before taking up their grant of nearly 6,ooo acres. At the end of August, the handy sailors off H.M.S. 'Sulphur' had been replaced by a few files of soldiers, less ready with expedients and tackle in manipulating the huge logs. It needed but the simplest arithmetic to show the slowness of the progress made, and the inadequacy of the family capital to bring into productive use any large area from the virgin forest on the Blackwood.

The first exploration up the river discovered even heavier timber inland. A few miles up the estuary, however, a series of peninsulas took their fancy. In December 1831, John explained their reasons for leaving the port of Augusta. 'I have selected a very excellent grant of land on the Blackwood about twelve miles from Augusta. I have left the garden we have cleared, and the house we have built in the care of Charles, while I, the two youngest of our party and Pearce' (their servant) 'are fixed at the Adelphi, the name of our peninsula. I was induced to take this step by several considerations. In the first place, I was able to avoid all society, and reduce our living to the smallest possible scale. Next I hoped to be able, with our guns, to procure more food than the neighbourhood of Augusta yielded; and lastly, I expected a larger return for our labour, inasmuch as abundance of rock and heavy timber rendered our first attempts at clearing very arduous; while the land up country was free in a great degree from these impediments, and moreover, offered from its peninsular form great facilities for fencing and therefore for stock-keeping. We are not yet extensive proprietors in that line, owing to the extreme want of capital which has hitherto retarded our rapid advance. One pig, in short, is our all, except some fowls. This, nevertheless, is perhaps for the best. Our ability to purchase' — there had been a hitch in their remittances through Hobart Town — 'will arrive when we are more prepared than at present for the reception of that appendix to agriculture, which can but prove prejudicial until ample fencing has protected the cultivated lands from its inroads.' — J. G. Bussell to Capel Carter, December 1831.

The quick-leaping mind of Charles was inspired to prophetic wonder by the beauty of the new scene.

'As this will be the spot from whence I will address you for many years,' he told his cousin, John Bussell of Henley, 'and as our well-being, or the contrary, depends upon the advancement of it, I think I cannot well choose a more interesting subject than a description of it. The scenery around us is decidedly monotonous, although if it were possible to remove a part selected almost at random and place it in a cultivated country it would not only afford a pleasing variety but would be pronounced a grand and beautiful object. The river, in short, winds through a forest of impressive timber, varying very little, except that as it is distant from the sea it is larger and of a finer growth.

'With all the sameness of the scenery, however, it is beautiful. It is, indeed, almost incredible that so fair a portion of the earth hould have remained so long uninhabited, save by its wretched aborigines. This idea must occur to any, the most indifferent, who have contemplated on one of our spring or summer evenings a calm and copious river, in which the reflection of the surrounding objects is as perfect as the objects themselves, flowing before their windows, and glossed by the beams of the setting sun, while not a breath disturbs the never dying verdure of the gigantic trees upon its barks.

'The character of our timber is very different from that of England, which difference is not a little heightened by its amazing magnitude. Picture to yourself a tree 38 feet in circumference, perfectly straight, and lofty in proportion to its girth, crowned with an evergreen foliage, and you will form a tolerably correct idea of our forest timber. But nature has been permitted to run to waste, and man, not to mention his fairer partners, is sadly wanted to correct her too great luxuriance. The improvements, which, in a wild country like ours, the work of his hands is daily making are in themselves almost a recompense for his labour.... It is now somewhat more than a year since we first pitched our tent upon the spot. I need not tell you we were houseless, that no garden smiled or had ever smiled upon the scene. An almost impenetrable undergrowth supplied the place of esculent herbage, and trees, which had been blown over by the storm or prostrated by the slower, though not less sure, work of the white ant, obstructed our path at every turn. Such is what it was. Now, each has his own apartment, our garden promises with the advancing season, the little stock we possess increases, and a tolerable crop of corn in another month will be ready for the sickle. What indifferent spectator could view these alterations and not be pleased? How delighted then must be they who own and direct them! I have often wondered that many whom I know, whose occupations do not confine them to one spot, and who appear to aim at few acquaintances beyond their immediate relatives, have not made a general migration hither, occupied sufficient land to employ their leisure hours, and contrived to form among themselves a small and united society.... The only neighbours we possess at present, of our class, are a Captain and Mrs. Molloy, who are co-colonists with us. Of the latter I cannot speak in too high terms. She is perfectly ladylike, and yet does not disdain the minutia of domestic economy, an indispensable accomplishment in a settler's wife....

'I may here advert to a question put to us in a letter to my sister Mary whether £8oo is sufficient capital with which to commence colonizing? To those whose views are similar to ours, that is, whose chief object is to bring their land under cultivation, and to stock their farm with the requisite animals, I should say it is undoubtedly too little. In the first place, a man will probably allow some time to elapse before he fixes on his location, during which he will be compelled to break in upon his capital without being able to perform any work that will tend to his permanent advantage. Secondly, when he has fixed upon a spot, before he can be employed about anything that will make a return, he must have a house erected for himself and his establishment. He must also have the land he intends to cultivate fenced in, and even then it will not produce until it has been turned up a full year. During the whole of this time, until indeed he can raise sufficient corn and stock upon his own estate to supply his household in food, he is dependent upon a precarious market for all the requisites of life. But I trust this statement will not deter those possessed of a regular income, however small, from colonization.' He had portrayed too vividly the two great obstacles to settlement, timber and lack of capital. The youthful Alfred was more modern in his propaganda for migrants. This to Uncle Bowker; 22 November, '32.

'From various hints I perceive that you consider your self too old for this part of the world. How could you take up such a notion. It is, I assure you, quite erroneous. We have in our country men much older and not half so able-bodied as yourself. Mr. Turner, for instance, notorious for his large family, a complete Nestor, has just started for the Vasse with John to explore the country, carrying his pack. Why, Uncle Bowker, you are the very man for it if you would but think so. How completely I can fancy you, up first in the morning, rousing your men to work, "Bring your handspikes here", "Root these trees", "Set that fire going. It went out last night", "John ! did you fold the sheep on the sandy patch last night ?" "Yes, sir." "Come, then, yoke the oxen. We will plough it before breakfast, and get it in with barley." But joking apart, your coming out is the very thing you would like. You are fond of fishing, our river abounds in fish. You are fond of gardening, here is abundance of land. Do you wish to keep cattle? Here are your stock runs. "Softly," says my Aunt, "that is all on the fair side. What are the inconveniences?" I will tell you. Merely this, the landing houseless on a far distant shore, the falling unaccustomed into entirely new occupations. As for a house, that would soon be raised, for nothing could be more delightful to your nephews than rendering every assistance in their power.... Hard work there is plenty of, but you need not participate in that at all. Your pay out here would be sufficient for you to live in actual splendour. You may have your men and your cattle and only overlook.... Augusta bids fair to be one of the cities of Australia. Would that our relations were here to participate in our not distant prosperity!'

In the meantime, however, there was much to be done, and systematically they set about it. At The Adelphi each brother built his own hut in his own time. Six hours a day were devoted to the common task, usually clearing. 'A description of the employments of one day is an epitome of the occupations of a whole year. The time before breakfast is our own or private time. We breakfast at eight. From nine to twelve is a portion of the time set apart for whatever general occupation may be in hand, or publick time. From 12 to 3 is the period set apart for preparing and despatching dinner. During the former, conducted by Pearce, we are again engaged upon our individual pursuits. From 3 to 6 is publick time. Coffee follows. Vernon and Alfred are then tutored by John, which occupation is succeeded by reading or conversation, after which each retires to his own apartment, and the day is finished.' — Charles B. to Mrs. F. L. B., 11th March 1833.

Yet the work of clearing made scanty progress. By March 1833 they had perfectly cleared only four acres, though proverbial in the colony for their persistence. Vernon groans at the endless burning off. Writing to Capel Carter, January 1833: 'We are still going on in the same way, clearing away timber, etc. Here you see great blocks of mahogany* rolled together and burnt which, if they could but be exported to England, would be of considerable value; but there are such quantities of it that we may burn for everlasting and there still will be enough to supply the world for ever' — a belief which has persisted to this day in Western Australia until, so the foresters say, but twenty years' supply of prime jarrah remains.

* The name mahogany was applied to jarrah for half a century, owing to its deep red colour.

John, it is evident, early realized the doubtful future of 'The Adelphi', and continued his explorations. One northward and then west to the sea, from 'The Adelphi,' crossed sandy and coarse granite country, and a belt of rich red loam carrying 'the most magnificent white gum trees', evidently the karri, around the Karridale of later days. 'On the bad land, mahogany had been most general', he reported to Captain Molloy, as Government Resident, 31st October 1831. A wider circuit was shortly to reveal the Vasse country facing Geographe Bay, 'which really answers to the description given the Swan River before we left England — fine undulating grassy plains.' The difficulty of winning even garden crops from their clearings on the Blackwood threw them back upon imported supplies. Here, too, they met troubles.

Financial worries occupy a large part of the letters written home from Augusta. The plan formed in England was that Mrs. Bussell should send such stores as she could buy out of her income from Consols, and that each son's and daughter's 'Pelican money' should be remitted to the Derwent Bank, at Hobart Town, there to be drawn upon by John. To the first source of supplies it is evident that Capel Carter contributed from her private means. She also sent at least one gift of money to John, and Charles, in 1832, became entitled to legacies from 'Uncle and Aunt Garrett'. The remittance of the cash, however, went awry during 1830 and the first months of 1831.

'We are likely to be reduced by it to the greatest extremities. Molloy has taken my servant off my hands, so that one drain on our provisions is removed. He is also going to lend us some rice, and I have about two hundredweight of flour left. No meat, but that our guns and fishhooks must supply till another arrival from Swan River, when, if I do not hear, I must have recourse to daily labour for hire.' — J. G. Bussell to C. Wells, an Oxford contemporary, July '31.

For a time the fatherly interest of Governor Stirling in his sub-colony found them in stores from the Government on credit. Charles, too, was appointed storekeeper at Augusta in 1831, at sixty pounds per annum and rations. He fulfilled with punctilio his task of buying and issuing stores, as his account sheets show, until September of 1837.

Nothing, however, could postpone for long the eclipse of Augusta, by reason of its unproductiveness in face of the stubborn timber. The Whig Reform Ministry, watching narrowly the expenditure of every department, and holding government aid to be a deterrent to self-help, placed a veto in 1834 on the issue of provisions from the Government stores to private settlers, and even upon the carriage of private purchases in the colonial schooner. In August of that year the official establishment at Augusta was reduced, the step provoking to scorn and indignation Fanny Bussell, by that time a resident there: 'You will hear', she wrote to her mother in England, 'that Mr. Green and Mr. Hillman have both received their "lettres de congé." This is a complete breaking up of our little society. I do think that we owe very little to our Mother-country. This atrocious system of economy is ruination to all that is thriving or interesting in society. Poor old Herring is cast adrift.'

The truth was that the Augusta settlers had soon realized their error in choosing the heavily timbered land, and were transferring themselves almost en masse to fairer fields on the Vasse. There 'all that is thriving and interesting' was soon re-established.