Field Guide to Falling in Love in Tasmania

Currently showing posts tagged Black War

  • Tarenorerer the Warrior

    Tarenorerer the Warrior

    Tarenorerer was born around 1800 and belonged to the region near Table Cape on Tasmania’s north-west coast, from a people known as either the Tommeginne or Plair-Leke-Liller-Plue. As a teenager, she was abducted by a neighbouring bands and sold to sealers in Bass Strait. They named her Walyer.

    The sealers of the Bass Strait islands were rough and crude men for the most part, and it was not uncommon for Aboriginal women to be taken as unwilling wives. Tarenorerer lived through this a decade before returning to the Tasmanian mainland. When she came back in 1828, she spoke English, and knew how to use a gun. These two skills – plus an overwhelming urge to achieve revenge – made her a force to be reckoned with.

    Two centuries’ distance – and the agendas of those writing the accounts of her life – may have distorted the record of Tarenorer’s life, but it seems that her enemies were both black and white. Tarenorerer renewed conflicts against old Aboriginal enemies, but also said that she hated the white Europeans as much as she did black snakes. Assembling a misfit guerrilla army of Aboriginals from a number of areas (including her two brothers and two sisters), Tarenorerer proved to be a wily general. Her attacks on both settlers and their livestock represented some of the most intelligent tactics in the Black War.

    Missionary-diplomat George Augustus Robinson saw Walyer as a threat to his relocation program for the Aboriginal Tasmanians. He described her as an ‘Amazon’ and bemoaned her ‘wanton and barbarous aggression’. Robinson had no love for the Bass Strait sealers, but may have colluded with them for the capture of the rebellious warrior. Tarenorerer returned to the sealers in 1830; whether by choice or force is uncertain, and historians have strong views on either side.

    Whatever the case, she was captured by a sealer that year, and handed over to Robinson. She was sent to a prison on Swan Island, in solitary confinement to counter her leadership, lest she inspire further revolt. Moved to Gun Carriage Island shortly after, she died of influenza in 1831, still a young woman.

     

  • History of a Perfect Miscreant

    History of a Perfect Miscreant

    The Richmond bridge is the oldest bridge still in use in Australia. The foundation sandstone was laid in December 1823, and with the aid of convict labour, the bridge successfully arched over the Coal River by 1825.

    Around this time, the Coal River became acquainted with Gilbert Robertson. Arriving in Van Diemen’s Land from Scotland, en route to Sydney, he wheedled his way into gaining 400 acres of land near Richmond, despite having no money. Still, Gilbert complained that he’d been gypped – not enough land, not enough servants.

    Pretty soon he lost his land, thanks to debt. He also made plenty of enemies. Magistrates, business partners, and even Lieutenant-Governors all came to loathe the “impertinence and swaggering” with which Gilbert Robertson carried out his affairs. In the end, though, Lt.-Gov. Arthur gave him his land back – plus the 600 additional acres Gilbert had moaned about – in 1829. Not much changed: Gilbert’s house burnt down and he was sued for assault. But just when it looked like his debts were going to catch up with him, circumstances changed curiously, and Gilbert saw his spot.

    It was the height of the Black War, and Lt.-Gov. Arthur had declared martial law. Gilbert Robertson applied for, and received, the position of chief constable of the Richmond district.

    The next few years at ‘Woodburn’, as Gilbert had named his estate, were eventful to say the least. In November 1828, he had captured five Aboriginal rebels, including the notorious warrior chief Umarrah. Along with Kickerterpoller, Gilbert’s off-and-on Oyster Bay Aboriginal servant, and a young Big River Aboriginal named Cowerterminna, Umarrah was a regular visitor to Woodburn.

    Gilbert and Kickerterpoller were particularly matey, and Gilbert tried to convince Lt.-Gov. Arthur that this was what Aboriginal and settler relations could be, given the right approach to conciliation. In fact, he had devised a whole model for conciliation, and suggested that he would be willing to put it into action - for the right price. The price, unfortunately, was too high. An idea similar to Gilbert’s was developed by missionary George Augustus Robinson, and Gilbert was high and dry again.

    Gilbert Robertson was born into an important Scottish family (his great-grandfather was the high chief of a clan), but he was also something inescapable in as sensitive a place as Van Diemen’s Land – he was half-black. His father had owned a plantation in Trinidad, and almost certainly Gilbert’s mother had been a slave. In Scotland, money and lineage had meant more than race. There were other stories being woven in Van Diemen’s Land, though, and the question of race was something that Gilbert was involved in – in more ways than one.

    “Here then in brief outline is a biography of someone who was almost pathologically inclined to get into trouble,” writes historian Cassandra Pybus. An assessment from Gilbert Robertson’s contemporary, Lady Jane Franklin, gave an equal description: he was “a perfect miscreant equally devoid of principle and feeling.”

    But interestingly, having moved late in life over to Geelong, he made quite a respectable name for himself. Working in the papers again, he died in 1851, of a heart attack during a particularly intense political campaign.

     

    Richmond is also home to Australia's oldest Catholic Church.

  • The Black War at Liffey Falls

    The Black War at Liffey Falls

    On Sunday afternoon in twenty-eight-degree heat with two girlfriends, Liffey Falls is perfect. Every so often the white curtains of running water occasion into still, cooling pools for recreation. Giant manferns lean over the water as if to see their own reflections, Jurassic versions of Narcissus.

    But the water is cold in winter. And on a winter morning in 1827, according to historian Lyndall Ryan, the Pallittorre people were rousing from their sleep in the caves at the bottom of the cascades, when a mob of stockmen bustled through the bush and attacked. The Colonial Times reported the death of “an immense quantity” of Aborigines. Maybe as many as sixty were killed in this skirmish. Within two weeks, the number had risen to around one hundred dead blacks.

    It was the middle of the Black War: although it was winter, the friction between Aboriginal Tasmanians and colonial graziers was at its hottest. The conflict was over land: the stockmen wanted to live in the traditional hunting grounds of the native Tasmanians.

    Nowadays, no-one sleeps in the caves at the bottom of the falls, and camping is prohibited.