Stories of White Outrages on Natives

In 1842, Nathaniel Hailes was sent to Port Lincoln as clerk of the court. During a three-years residence there, he filled many and varied public offices, but what is most important to the historian, is that he spent a good deal of his spare time in recording incidents of local interest. In his old age he gave the public the benefit of his notes, in a series of articles in the "Register" during the years 1870-1875.

Probably in his work he had to deal with the natives, and he must have had a happy knack of making the natives feel at home with him, but whatever the cause, the natives honored him with their confidence and friendship. The following particulars were related by the natives to him. 

Hailes precedes the telling of the tale by mentioning that "there can be no doubt that at the commencement of the present century (19th) many a tragedy was enacted in the neighbourhood of which I am writing, unheard of and perhaps unwitnessed by man, perhaps naturally vicious, guided by no principle, restrained by no law, from shedding the blood of weaker or unarmed comrade. . . . Their outrages on natives, when they could inflict them with importunity, were undoubtedly many. Often at Port Lincoln, while sitting amid a tribe of aborigines around their evening fire, have I heard from elder members, thrilling and repulsive narratives, the accuracy of which I had no reason to doubt. It is certain, that island desperadoes occasionally visited the mainland, carried off by force native women, and murdered the children with whom their captives might unfortunately be encumbered." 

Hailes relates that one day he was wandering through the scrub in search of his daily meat. His salary was £100 a year and with a large family to keep, he had to resort to the scrub to help him to eke out a living. On this particular day he discovered a waterhole about three quarters of a mile from his home — the house that Mr. Porter had built. It was a deep hole in a granite rock, which filled up with water with each shower. The surroundings were beautiful. Birds and animals were quite at home there. Not a sign of any recent visit by the natives. Ancient tracks led through the scrub to the waterhole, but now the natives went elsewhere for their water. 

On enquiries being made, Hailes learnt that about 20 years previously. . . . (To digress for a moment, how this time was gauged I do not know, but it may be wiser for the reader to imagine that instead of "20 years," "some time" had been written, and at the same time to picture the tale told by the boys, Newell and Manning. To resume the tale) : Some time previously, a party of natives consisting chiefly of lubras and piccaninnies were engaged preparing their morning meal, oblivious of the fact that the days of peace were almost past, that their old order was gradually passing away and in its place the European was to institute a new state of affairs, upsetting the balance of nature as far as the aboriginals were concerned. Hailes then narrates the tale of the black tragedy : 

" In the meantime unperceived by the sable assemblage a small boat had rounded the southern extremity of Kirton Point, from which three white men landed, and stealing under cover of the fragrant scrub, surprised the reclining party, shot some of the black men, and before the scattered remainder had time to rally bore off two women and conveyed them to an island at a considerable distance." 

Before Hailes left Port Lincoln the younger natives were again gradually making use of the waterhole. Can the site of this waterhole, with its once picturesque surroundings, be located now ? 

One other tale narrated by Hailes must be referred to here. A year or two preceding the last mentioned incident of savage violence on the part of some white men, an Irishman named Brien made a raid on the mainland and forcibly carried off a lubra and piccaninny to his island home on Flinders Island. A piccaninny, 12 months' old "was according to custom, about to be killed, but the entreaties of the mother on this occasion prevailed."

"The boy grew up and became an efficient helper to his foster father. He learnt to talk English with the true Irish accent. Brien must have treated the boy wonderfully well, as he was able to trade and barter with the visiting whaling ships. On the death of Brien, the boy Bill, as he was known, made his way to Port Lincoln, arrayed in a sailor's jacket, shirt, moleskin trousers, straw hat. A double barrel gun and a short pipe, completed his equipment. Bill informed Hailes that his mother and two sisters were still on the island. 

The next series of articles from Mr. Somerville's pen will deal with the colonisation of South Australia and the selection of the site of the capital.