But in planting a colony, tillage is the first element of success; of this, they knew nothing: they could destroy a fort, or erect a tent; but to subdue the earth to the plough, or to construct a town, required another education. They gave, and long preserved, to the site of the city, the name of camp: thus the first efforts at cultivation were unfortunate: they had passed two years in New Holland, scratching up the earth with hoes, and ought to have gathered a harvest, when they were on the verge of starvation.[80]

Among the thousand persons landed, not one could be found possessing a knowledge of agriculture.[81] What they did not know, they could not teach. The misapplication of labor was prodigious: they acquired the art of cultivation by the slow process of experiment; and thus they came to a conclusion, only lately obsolete—that an Australasian husbandman is spoiled by the agricultural knowledge of Europe.

The immediate direction of labor, from the beginning, was committed to convicts. To stand over the prisoners, was not an agreeable occupation for gentlemen: thus the actual working of transportation, as a penal system, was entrusted to men, often clever and corrupt, whose brutal habits and savage demeanour excited disgust and fear. This error perpetuated itself: persons of character rejected a position, so often occupied by the worthless: even the distribution of labor was entrusted to such hands, or subject to their influence. To the prisoners, in reality, they sold indulgences of the crown, or exacted a revenue from their vices. The chief superintendent of convicts at Sydney, and who long determined what men should be dispatched to this country, was himself doubly convicted.[82] This was far from destroying eligibility: it became at last an official proverb, that bad men, from the very vices of their character, were the fittest for a direct supervision; and, finally, that the world is divided between the rogue and the fool. The use of power, when entrusted to such hands, is no problem; nor is it possible to imagine greater degradation, or punishment more capricious, than of the unfortunate person subject to such taskmasters; in whose hands, according to the custom of early times, the rod of authority was not a metaphor.[83]

That form of service, known as assignment, was established by Governor King in 1804. The master was bound by indenture to retain his servant for one year, and for every day deficient, a penalty of one shilling was imposed: the quantity of the work to be done was prescribed; contingent, however, on the nature of the soil, the state of the weather, and the strength of the workman: the surplus of his time might be occupied by the master, but his earnings were his own. Wages were £10 per annum, and for a female £7; but the deficiency of money, induced the employers to allot a proportion of time as a compensation, or to supply goods, on which an advance was claimed, often extremely oppressive; and when the season rendered servants less useful, the masters were tempted to obtain relief by false accusations, or to allow their men to quit the premises—who sought, by labor or theft, the means of subsistence.

To restrict the habit of change, Macquarie established the rule that no convict should be returnable, except for infirmity, sickness, or crime; but when the supply exceeded the demand, this condition was evaded, and the result—an accumulation in the hands of the government. A large proportion were from the manufacturing districts of Great Britain: they were utterly ignorant of farming, and when the plough superceded the hoe, they required a tedious training before they repaid the expense of their support.

The agriculture of this colony was long trifling: the convicts were chiefly employed as stockmen and shepherds: from the banks of the Derwent to the district of Launceston, the land in general was a wilderness, unfenced and untenanted: the men, stationed forty and fifty miles from their masters' dwellings, were rarely visited, and were under no immediate control. They were armed, to defend themselves from the natives, and clad in skins: they lived in turf huts, thatched with long grass, and revived the example of savage life.[84]

It was the custom to allot to the superior officers, magistrates, and constables, in proportion to their rank, a certain number of men, who were subsisted from the king's stores. A skilful mechanic, or pedlar, was a valuable acquisition: he hired his own time, and paid from 5s. to £1, according to its estimated weekly value, while the master drew, for his own use, the rations of the servant. Others rented farms, and paid their masters in produce; and when "government men," as assigned servants were called, were unable to obtain payment, and thus failed to make good an engagement with the master, they were liable to be thrown back into their former position.

Tickets-of-leave were freely given to those incapable of much service to the government, or its officers: such as were useful, whatever might be their conduct, were long detained, and for a period often indefinite. Females, who arrived with property, were discharged to enjoy it. If followed by the husband, the wife was instantly assigned to his care. To enable a prisoner to support his wife when she joined him, or when a convict married a convict, if of no special value he was released to labor for himself.

No accurate account was preserved of these distributions, and a notice appeared during the government of Sorell, which required all women living at large to give an account of the grounds on which they pretended to freedom, or otherwise to obtain a regular ticket-of-leave.

Under a system so irregular, great practical injustice was occasionally inflicted: while advantages were enjoyed by artisans, who could hire their time; who obtained large profits from their trade, and indulged in every form of vice and licentiousness.[85]