[22] Achilles, Ajax, Buonaparte, King George, Hannibal, Peter Pindar, Neptune, Tippoo Saib, Washington. A few only bore the names of ordinary mortals.

SECTION IX

The advances towards the final extinction of the natives, have been more rapid than was expected; but the certainty of that event was never the subject of doubt. Sir George Murray, on the 5th November, 1830, anticipated, and wrote down their fate; and inferred, from their decrease, that at no distant period the whole race would become extinct: but he declared that the adoption of any course of conduct, with this design, either avowed or secret, would leave an indelible stain upon the government of Great Britain! It will be seen, however, that the progress of decay was never arrested for a moment. The mortality at Bruné and Swan Islands was not less than at Flinders'; but from 1832, a regular account has been preserved.[23]

Of the forty-five landed at Oyster Cove, in 1847, thirteen were men, twenty-two women, and ten children. Such has been the progress of their decline, and with numbers so inconsiderable, the problem of their fate is solved.

The original amount of the natives has been a question much debated: like a procession in a circle, a population in motion, when not personally distinguished, will appear more numerous than the actual census. Mr. Kelly, who often had passed the coasts, calculated them at, originally, 7,000, but he guessed their number to be 5,000 in 1830: the obvious error of the last estimate, would naturally suggest a doubt with reference to the former. Several hundreds were, however, seen in one assembly, within the last thirty years. At Hobart Town and Launceston, from one to two hundred have appeared together. It was their custom to distribute themselves in parties, of from forty to fifty each. Their fires, kindled on the sea shore, were often left burning, when they had moved on to the next stage; and those who saw the flames from ship-board, concluded that aborigines were lying around them, and thus telling their numbers by the fires, they were often greatly deceived. The rapidity of their movements led to the same mistake: they appeared at places sufficient to establish an alibi, according to the current measures of distance. They had innumerable paths which shorten a journey, then unknown to the English: it was thus, that they were twice reckoned, even when carefully counted. No reliance, however, will be placed by persons of experience on the rumour of numbers. Nearly all who report an assembly, judge by imagination rather than minute inspection; thus, mobs are spoken of as tens or hundreds of thousands, without any intention to mislead. It will be the hope of the humane, that the lowest estimate is the true one: it can hardly be doubted, however, that they were originally from 4,000 to 5,000: they were estimated by Mr. Robinson at 700, when he commenced his mission; 203 were captured—many, in the mean time, fell by unknown violence and perpetual persecution: a thousand muskets were charged for their destruction.

The causes of their diminution in Tasmania have been already stated; but some of these continued their operation even after the capture: their natural consequences followed. Towards the last days of their savage life, the sexes were disproportionate, although the balance was partly restored by associating the women who had been longer in captivity, with the men whose wives had died; but many of these women had become licentious, and by an extraordinary oversight the government permitted unmarried convicts and others to have them in charge, or to assist in the preliminary labor of their establishment: the result need not be told. The infant children had perished, by the misery or contrivance of their parents: thus in 1838, of eighty-two there were only fourteen children, and of the remainder, eight had attained the usual term of human life: many who surrendered, were exhausted by sickness, fatigue, and decripitude. They were the worn out relics of their nation, and they came in to lie down and die.

The assumption of clothing occasioned many deaths: they were sometimes drenched with rain—perspiration was repressed, and inflammatory diseases followed: the licentiousness, and occasional want of the few last years, generated disorders, which a cold brought to a crisis. Among savages, the blanket has sometimes slain more than the sword: it destroyed the Indian of North America, and even threatened the New Zealander with a similar fate.[24] The abundant supply of food, and which followed destitution, tended to the same result: it was a different diet. The habits of the chase were superseded, and perhaps discouraged: the violent action to which they had been accustomed; the dancing, shouting, hurling the waddy and the spear—climbing for the opossum—diving, and leaping from rock to rock—assisted the animal functions, and developed muscular power. To continue them required the occasion, as well as the permission; but the stimulus was gone.

It is said, by writers not favorable to the establishment at Flinders', that attempts to force the customs and habits of a civilised people were unreasonably, and even ridiculously severe. However docile the blacks, and generous the intention of their teachers, the physical effects of a total change in the habits of a race are not to be disputed, or that what may be harmless when the result of choice, and founded on new mental and physical stimulants, is dangerous when the mind is vacant, and the objects of civilised exertion unappreciated. Perhaps, no one is blameable. In their social circumstances, we may indeed trace the occasion of decay, but they were no longer produced by cruelty.

There were, other causes. The site of the settlement was unhealthy: they were often destitute of good water; the tanks preserved an insufficient supply. It is admitted that they frequently suffered this lack; but it is stated, that they had sufficient allowed them when sick!

It is, however, clear, that many perished by that strange disease, so often fatal to the soldiers and peasants of Switzerland, who die in foreign lands from regret of their native country. They were within sight of Tasmania, and as they beheld its not distant but forbidden shore, they were often deeply melancholy: to this point the testimony of Mr. Robinson is decisive, though not solitary.[25] They suffered much from mental irritation: when taken with disease, they often refused sustenance, and died in delirium. The wife, or the husband in perfect health, when bereaved, would immediately sicken, and rapidly pine away.[26]