The Tasmanian Lily

Preface

■0- The " Tasmanian Lily" is written with an object. The author had heard the common remark that, with the greatly advancing prices, England was no longer fit for the home of any but the very busy and the very rich. The former must gain their living, or they wish to add to their store. The latter can enjoy their wealth in the high civilization here. But there is another class, comprising those who are not what is called rich, but who have a moderate com petency, with no desire, or ability, to enter the compe titive strife for an increase of gains. To these the present bounding prices have a very sensational meaning. Many of such persons have families around them, and they sigh as they contemplate the coming struggles of their offspring in a land so crowded out, or where King Capital has so great a supremacy.

There are, also, some whose infirmity of frame requires a milder climate. With British leanings and Preface. VI ideas, they would not like to bring up a family amidst foreign and uncongenial associations. Honestly believing that emigration to Australia, and especially to Tasmania, would suit the pocket, tastes, and health of the class in question, giving a Present to themselves and a Future to their children, the writer has sought to picture simply, but fairly, the condition of Colonial life in the following tale. London, Oct. 13, 1872. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. The Immigrants

In the month of October, a few years ago, a vessel made the land on the western side of Tasmania. The voyage had been unusually tedious, and the delight of the passengers at the long looked for shore was freely expressed. The white-crested quartz coast caught the eye. It was the same which Tasman first saw two hundred and thirty years ago. It is still the mighty barrier of the Island Home, ever hurling back the ever-repeated assaults of the angry western waves. Rounding the south-west cape, the course was east ward till the Eddystone rock was left on the larboard bow. The wild birds rose with a screaming salute to the new comers, and the breakers roared a welcome against the cliffs. Then the voyagers turned to the north-east that they might enter Storm Bay. The coal regions of Recherche Bay and Southport were left behind, and a natural obelisk of basalt off the south end of Bruni Island was their landmark.

A Entering Storm Bay, the romantic magnificence of the scenery of Tasmania came before them in suc cessive kaleidoscopic views of beauty. To their left stretched the long and narrow island of Bruni, nearly divided at its centre, where Cook's celebrated Ad venture Bay murmurs on a sandy beach. Every varying form of peak and swelling top was brought forward by the slate and basalt rocks of that coast. To the right rose the shaggy woody heights of Tasman's Peninsula, once the scene of volcanic fury, and for many years the principal convict estab lishment of Van Diemen's Land. The Iron Pot, with its lighthouse, guided them out of Storm Bay, and beyond its junction with D'Entrecasteaux channel. But the gay Frenchmen of revolutionary times had left it for seventy years ; while the dark-eyed maidens, about whom they wrote such romantic tales, have passed away with all their race.

The wind now dropping off, the seamen amused themselves with fishing, and brought up that splendid fish the Trumpeter, a great luxury to those who have long feasted on salt junk. A puff coming, the ship made its way into the broad waters of the Derwent river. The scenery increased in interest. To the richness of uncultivated nature was now added the spring green of farms. The pretty tenements of settlers were dotted about on bossy heights, in sheltered coves, or amidst the dark foliage like bowers in groves. Everywhere was seen the English taste in The Immigrants. 3 love for flowers, and everywhere the English fancy for a garden home. But when the long line of lofty tiers was brought into vision, when Alp on Alp arose to the rear of budding settlements, when cascades of sunlit charms were noticed glistening through the woods, when the stern front of that table mountain, Wellington, towered grim monarch of the country round, the admiration of the passengers became unbounded, and they loudly hailed the isle as the gem of the Southern Ocean.

When, also, the soft breath of the shore came off to them, laden as it was with the perfume of acacias, and the mingled odours from aromatic shrubs, the younger and more imaginative among the group were reminded of the Indian clime from which they had come, and the spicy groves of Indian seas. And would they here have the sensuous enjoyment of such perfumed air, and not receive along with it the mias matic poison so often dwelling in the dearest, loveliest vales of the romantic East ? A young man, who seldom left his mother's side on the deck while these changing landscapes flitted by, now smilingly said to her — ' What would our Persian poet, Ferdusi, say to this, mamma ? It put me in mind of his verse, — " The tender silken grass invites the tread ; With murky odour breathes the fanning air ; Pure waters glide along their perfume bed, As though the rose gave them her essence rare."

And I cannot help exclaiming with him, as I look upon such a panorama of charms, especially with the eye of a prospective dweller in the land, — " Oh ! never — never — long as time shall last — May shadows o'er these beauteous scenes be cast ! Still may they in eternal splendours glow, And be like paradise, as they are now." ' Bravo ! Horace,' his mother cried. ' But — ' and here she looked archly at him, 'you may, for aught you know, be fortunate to find that Ferdusi's " Afrasiab's daughter there, Manizha bright, Makes the whole garden, like the sun, all light." ' Now really that is too bad of you, mamma, thus to make sport of my rhapsody, and drag me down from the sublime to the ridiculous. After all, who knows that what the poet's Asiatic Paradise failed to exhibit of a Manizha bright, this very lovely Tasmania may develop before my enraptured gaze ? ' A merry laugh of the pair followed.

A rocky promontory was gained, and there, lighted up with the farewell rays of a setting sun, was Hobart Town. The forests were in a deepening shade ; the bright beach of Sandy Bay glowed in the sunset ; the scattered houses of the city were set in orchards and gardens, that rose and fell with the billowy hills, and Mount Wellington had its massive front festooned with clouds still laughing in the sunlight. As the ship swung at her cable in Sullivan's cove, the passengers landed with light and joyful hearts though with somewhat unsteady sea legs.

Chapter II. Meeting Of Old Friends

It was such a lovely day. The sun was out, of course, and yet, this October spring-time, he good-humouredly and playfully rested so often behind clouds of fleecy whiteness, as if he wanted to show he was not coming out in full summer glory all at once. A gentleman sat by an open window in a public office, resting awhile from his pile of papers, being drawn irresistibly to look at Mount Wellington. That mountain had still a part of its snowy cap of winter remaining. The contrast of its dazzling brightness with the sombre shade of the forest below, was engaging the gazer's attention. After a while he closed the window, and returned to the pile of papers, smiling to himself as he thought how few officials in smoky London would be thus tempted to stray from dull work to gay Nature. The messenger tapped at the door, and presented the card of a caller. ' Shew the gentleman in immediately,' said the superior.

Rising hastily from his seat, he met his visitor at the door, and warmly greeted him. ' My dear Captain Douglas ! How glad I am to see you ! Wherever have you come from ? ' ' The old place, my friend, the steaming plains of India, where you and I sweltered together in past campaigns.' ' But what in the world brought you to this outlandish part, that some call the other end of nowhere ?' ' Ah ! that's too long a story to be told all in a breath, Roberts.' 'And were you in the "Dolphin" that dropped anchor last night ?' " I was indeed, and drop anchor in your office this morning.' ' Of course you are not alone, Douglas V ' No ; I brought the wife alone with me, and all the family left to me — my son Horace. We had been intending to leave India for some time, on account of Mrs Douglas and poor Rosa, as the health of both of them was so very delicate.

The removal of our darling from earth hastened our departure.' ' I am sorry to hear of the loss of so beautiful a girl, and hope this climate will soon set Mrs Douglas up again. But whatever made you steer this way ?' ' I'll tell you. I was tired of the service aver there. I am not so young as I was ; though, by the way, Roberts, your dozen years here have only made you younger. At first I thought of nestling in Old Eng land. But I am about sick of ceremonials, and couldn't stand the sound of them in private life. France, Germany, Switzerland seemed to extend their hands in invitation. But I shook my head at them all.' ' And could neither the Alps nor the Baths tempt you, leave alone the courts of princes and the gay delights of Paris ? ' ' No ; I wanted rest myself, and not further excite ment.

My wife was equally unwilling to enter into fashionable life, or be for ever rambling. We wanted a quiet and healthy home, if we could get it, and still be among our own country-people.' ' And that you will surely get here,' exclaimed the official with emphasis. ' But whatever made you come out to Tasmania ? ' ' Your first letter to me from Hobart Town. I happened to catch sight of it again, as I was turning over some records of the past, and when very unde cided what to do.' ' I understand, old fellow ; and you said to yourself, " I'll be off to that Roberts, and see his Paradise." Not a bad resolution, I assure you. But you must know that it is an awful dead and alive place. You'll be en nuyed to death, and thin off to ghostly proportions.' ' Indeed ! ' cried the Indian. ' Anyhow your pro portions are not ghostly.

Your hearty enjoyment of life is told in the very ring of your voice.' ' Well, well ; . perhaps it is so. But then, you know, I lead a regular dog's life — eating, drinking, sleeping, and running about.' ' And a little of your regular dog's life is what I want. I am sick of high civilisation, with its rich viands, its heavy wines, its uneasy slumbers, and its grand and solemn gait' 'Why, Douglas, you are turning quite a philosopher.' ' Which at fifty odd is about time to do,' added his friend. ' I am not at the age for love in a cottage, Roberts, but I long for a more natural and simple style of existence. That was not to be got in Europe any more than in India. I thought in your colony I might seek and find it.' ' And that you will, my dear fellow, I assure you. But having said all about yourself, including Mrs Douglas, a part of yourself, allow me to ask what about Horace ?' ■ Horace,' said the father, ' is now one-and-twenty.

He was educated, as you know, in England, being a very delicate boy. He took a good class position, but had no fancy for the military profession. He went in for civil engineering, but had to give up through an at tack of the lungs. Returning to India, he resolved, before the death of his sister, to accompany us here.' ' I see,' interrupted the other ; ' you wanted, all of you, to be together. Quite right, if the lad be not consumed with ambition, and don't disdain the shep herd's lowly life.' ' No, his ambition evaporated during his late long illness. He has taken it into his head that the world has gone crazy after honours and wealth, to the loss of peace and true progress. He is more of a philosopher than I am, and talks sentiment by the yard to his mother.' ' Until somebody a little younger takes her place,' again interrupted Mr Roberts. 'There you are wrong, my friend.

The young fellow is affected with a violent anti -matrimony malady, and declares that all womankind, always ex cepting his admirable mother, are vain coquettes, heart less flirts, or slanderous spitfires, wholly and utterly unfit to be partners of men of sense, and fated to drag down to their own level of insipidity, acerbity, weakness, vanity, and restlessness, every fellow they can catch.' 'That is, Douglas, they are seized with a moral hydrophobia, and delight in biting every dog in their way, and dropping their poison in the wound they make. A very respectable opinion of the sex, indeed. Has your juvenile philosopher ventilated his views on that subject since his arrival ? ' ' No,' said the parent ; ' he has been so smitten with Dame Nature here that he has had no tongue for slander.' ' I am extremely glad to hear it.

There is no harm in courting that respectable old lady ; in fact, attentions to her may develop a latent faculty of his soul. But I would seriously counsel him to keep his ascetic, monkish ideas to himself, or our strong-minded, merry, colonial lassies will wig him nicely. He might spout his aphorisms in Indian, or even English, drawing rooms, but he had better not show off his eloquence after that fashion at a pic-nic in Tasmania. But he won't. You'll see that once getting acquainted with The Tasmajiian Lily. 10 our unrivalled and unrivalable Tasmanian belles, they will soon pack off his morbid philosophy ; and if they don't absolutely cure him of misanthropy, they will certainly make him in love with themselves.' ' Capital!' exclaimed Mr Douglas, 'then the youngster has a prospect before him here — that's one com fort for an anxious father.' ' God bless the lad !

I am sure he is a good fellow, and will be a favourite of mine. He comes from a good stock — sire and dam of unquestionable celebrity — and must be good on the turf. As his godfather, I'll steer him through the rocks and shoals of the pomps and vanities of life here. And if he wants to gain colonial experience, I think I have influence enough to pop him into a Government billet, where he may scratch his ear with a pen.' ' Thanks, my dear friend, for your goodwill to me and mine. But you must come off, if possible, to the hotel and see the tribe from the jungles.' 'And I,' said the other, 'will introduce them to the kangaroo wonders of Tasmania.' It was not many days after this conversation when another debate arose upon the subject of settlement. ' Well, Douglas,' said his energetic friend, ' have you decided upon your future destinies ? ' ' Indeed I have not.

Can you help me ? [I hardly know the best plan to adopt.' ' But I know what you have thought about. You have dreamed of a hut in the wilderness, something of a rude cottage in a wood instead of near it. Now that sort of thing won't do. I was troubled with romance once, but gave it up. Excuse me, old fel low ; but do you want to pile up rupees here?' ' No, my ambition don't lie that way. I sold out, after saving up. Wife and I invested for an annuity. The balance is enough to buy a farm and stock it, and still leave something for contingencies !' 'All right. But there's the lad !' ' As to him, Roberts, you need fear nothing. An aunt has settled two or three hundreds a-year upon him, and that sum he will scarcely need touch, as his fancies are neither extravagant nor commer cial.' ' Now I begin, then, to see which way the needle turns.

He wants to worship nature in quiet. You, I know, have no business to pitch your cash in the plough furrow. So you must give up the farming ideas.' ' Yet that will be to sacrifice all the pleasure1 that we have been promising ourselves.' ' Then I'll tell you what we'll do. A farm it shall be, so that you may have your own milk, butter and eggs, without entering into competition with the honest grower of grain. But it must be near town for several reasons ; you will want to see me, and hear the news ; your wife can't live without shopping, and knowing the fashions ; and Horace, forsooth, must be a Fellow of our Royal Society of Tasmania, and make acquaintance with all our naturalists and geologists.' ' Really, my dear friend, you have hit off the thing exactly.' ' Certainly I have. The next thing is to see how these glorious results can be obtained.

There is now a place to let some half a dozen miles out of Hobart Town. To-morrow afternoon I will go with you on a tour of inspection.' The next day Mr. Roberts took the whole party to a charming little farm of about sixty acres. It was nestling under some of the roots of Mount Wellington. The house was not very grand or extensive. But the garden and orchard were in capital order, and the paddocks were safely enclosed. The road to the farm from the town was admirable, as are all the main thoroughfares of the island. The distance was a short hour's drive, passing through New Town, by the Race Course, and over the picturesque O'Brien's Bridge into Glenorchy. The lady was pleased, and the gentlemen were pleased. A little expenditure might make the house thoroughly suitable, and a lease was to be obtained on very moderate terms.

The bargain was concluded, and an early removal accomplished. Rosedale was a charming name for a really charming home. Experience of its pleasures only added to its interest. The lady could get to the shops, Horace to the library and museum, and the Captain to a chat at the club with his friend Roberts. ? 13

Chapter III. Why Seek

A COLONIAL HOME. There was a farm to let next to that where our Indian friends were living. Report came that a new arrival from England had been to look at it. A few days more passed, and then report came that the new arrival had taken the farm. ' Who is he ?' ' What is he ?' ' Where does he come from ?' ' What does he intend to do ?' ' Is he agree able ?' 'Has he a family?' 'Are they agreeable?' These were some of the interrogatives thrown into the ears of Captain Douglas as he came in from town. There was no long trial of patience. The full intel ligence arrived soon. Captain Douglas, who already felt himself quite colonial, was resolved not to follow English fashion, and give the neighbour a month to get straight before a call. On the contrary, he walked across on the very day when the goods were going in, and offered his neighbourly service.

He was sure the good folks had no chance of preparing a meal, and his wife had sent him over to say they must all come to dinner. The Englishman stared a little at this unceremo nious visit, and his wife blushed at being caught in a comparative deshabille ; yet the offer was made so frankly and kindly, that they could not but accept it, and went, accordingly. This was not all. Other little services were rendered, and due counsel was ten dered, as the privilege of an older resident. The locality was described, the soil was criticised, and some improvements were suggested. The lady got many domestic hints from Mrs. Douglas, especially in relation to her children, for she had a full half dozen of all sorts, and of ages from two years to fourteen. It was natural that the two families should be brought into contact.

An increased acquaintance increased mutual confidence, and established a sincere friendship. One evening, after a dish of tea together, Captain Douglas ventured to say how pleased he was to have such pleasant neighbours as Mr. and Mrs. Latham. They warmly expressed the reciprocity of feeling on their part ; the gentleman adding, ' The question of society was the only thing that troubled us when resolving to come here. Everything else about Tasmania was so attractive, but we sighed at the thought that we might have improper asso ciations for our children. We knew it had been a convict colony, and must contain much of the old character of population.' ' But still you will admit,' observed Captain Douglas, ' that Rome with [as bad a beginning had a far more honest and noble character than could ever be boasted by Greece.' ' True, sir ; but the conversion took time.' ? 15 ' That may be.

But this country had some advantages. It was planted by British convicts, certainly. Yet these ever formed but a part of the population. The leaven of free immigration was perceptible soon after 1820. This new blood did not consist of the sweepings of workhouses, too commonly constituting the free emigration to portions of Australia ; but it was of men of some capital, or educated in a pro fession. They had no assisted passage, though at one time favoured with grants of land, that they might relieve Government from the rations of men in their absorption as servants.' 'Thanks for that intimation. Such a lesson was not without its influence ; particularly, Captain Doug las, when so many retired officers made this their home, and when so large a proportion of free arrivals were from your northern land of the Mountain and the Flood.' 'Your compliments to my nation and profession, Mr Latham, are gratefully appreciated.

But I would have you take a less gloomy estimate of the convict population.' ' O, I am sure the children of transported men here are in their general deportment, and their freedom from the gross vices of civilization, an ornament to society. I honour their progress, and respect their worth. My wife and I are very favourably im pressed with the young people of the so-called lower classes.' ' Still, I would like you to take a charitable view of their parents.' ' In what way ? ' inquired Mr Latham. ' By remembering that England fifty years ago was a very different place to what it now is, that her laws were then brutal if not unjust, and that many were sent out here for trivial offences, if not for political acts which were rebellion then, though now called patriotic' ' I understand you, sir.' Captain Douglas resumed. ' My own experience of life in India, and elsewhere, has taught me that men are to be judged not merely by what they are, but by the circumstances which have made them such.

In coming to what had been so long a convict colony, I was prepared to see queer physiognomies, and hear of coarse crimes. But I was sure that many a wild fellow, and many an untutored one, by a change of scene, and with opportunities here afforded to make a good living and earn a good name, would reform. My observation has confirmed this impression.' 'Yet you must admit, sir, that the moral agencies producing the present social order here, and social virtues, too, have been wisely directed.' ' They have, indeed. I do not believe any country in the world can exhibit more remarkable evidences of moral action. The agents of this good may have been few, but their influence was extraordinary. The leaven was little, but powerful in its working.' 'And few,' added the English settler, 'can feel ? 17 more grateful than I do for their philanthropy and public spirit.

My children have the moral atmosphere purified for them by the labours of those worthy men and women.' The conversation then drifted into the reasons for the removal of the Latham family. The story was thus told : — ' I was the younger son of a so-called independent gentleman, the reputed owner of many broad acres. Fairly educated in one of the public schools, and intended for some profession, I was, like other young fellows similarly situated, in no hurry to drop my gun and fishing-line, and was never urged by my father to prepare for the future.' ' One of the great curses of England,' interrupted the Captain. 'And I found it so,' rejoined Mr Latham. 'Well, just as it became necessary to commence a profession, if intended at all, my father died. His affairs revealed a sad confusion. My brother succeeded to the encum bered estate, and I found myself possessor of a small farm.

Distaste for town life, and an age too advanced for specific studies, induced me to take the farm in hand for my living. A farmer needs a wife. The most sensible and satisfactory thing I ever did was the choice of one.' 'A very loyal speech of your husband's,' observed Mrs Douglas, with a smile, to her lady friend. Mr Latham continued : — B 'The wife and I jogged along very comfortably for some years, and saw one little one after another take a seat at our dinner-table. My farm was small, my capital was small, my profits were small. In Great Britain, as you may have heard, Mr Douglas, small farms are being swallowed up by great capitalists. My few acres were bid for by my richer neighbour. I should have held on had not a severe attack of illness laid me aside for months. This, unfortunately, induced a sort of partial paralysis.

It was then I had to look round at my growing family.' ' Indeed it was, John,' sighed his wife. ' Six children in England, and that in our position, became a source of anxiety.' ' And that increased by the difficulty of keeping up appearances,' said Mrs Douglas. ' That was the real trouble. Food for our children we might get, but society for them in our altered cir cumstances was quite out of the question. A mother grieves to feel that her children are slighted by those not so well brought up as themselves.' 'Yet that was not the worst, my dear,' interposed her husband. ' What puzzled us was this. I was not fit to continue the farm, through failing health. When selling the farm, what was to be done with the capi tal ? The interest would keep us, but would not do more. How were the boys to be put out ?

They could not farm, having no capital. They could not enter professions, as I had little to spare them till f 19 they got a footing, which might be years and years. They could not hope for much in competitive trade without means. Then the wife often cried at the thought of their being snubbed by their more fortu nate relations. It was the daily burden of her life, too, whatever could become of her girls. An alliance suitable to the dignity of our family connexion was not within our dreams.' ' I declare,' ejaculated Captain Douglas, ' you have drawn a picture. And yet I am told it is often to be now seen in Old England.' ' It is sadly too common. The mischief is, that the rise of manufacturers, and the general increase of wealth, have so developed the necessity of luxuries, and so excited the craving to be as good as one's neighbours, that living is enormously growing in ex penses there, and shutting off the chances of saving for a rainy day.' ' Then these things caused you to think of the colonies,' the Captain observed. ' Undoubtedly.

I knew there must be elbow-room for the young folks there, and less scope for the tri umphs of Mrs Grundy. I knew labour was honour able as well as remunerative there. In Great Britain my lads would lose social position by work ; in the colonies they will not be less esteemed for it. Then, though I could not hope to do much myself on a bit of land, I could guide the boys at it' ' Your capital, also, could be better invested, Mr Latham.' ' I have found that out already. As the lads want education at present, I have put out my cash at interest. This little place suits my old country tastes, and the wife is happier with cows and fowls about her.' ' That is my case, too,' said Mrs Douglas. ' I am not only healthier but happier. I don't know what I should do now, if I had not my dairy, garden, and poultry-yard to amuse me.' ' Aye, and to pay the expenses of a family as well,' added Mrs Latham, ' besides giving us a famous table.