A review by tasmanian_bibliophile
Van Diemen's Land by James Boyce
4.0
‘Tasmania was once known as Van Diemen’s Land.’
And as Van Diemen’s Land, became the enforced home of 42% of the convicts transported to Australia. The island that became home to over 72,000 sentenced criminals had its own unique character, quite different from early New South Wales.
‘The fact that protein-rich shellfish were there for the taking, that wallaby and kangaroo could be killed with nothing more than a hunting dog, and that abundant fresh water and a mild climate made travel by foot relatively easy, does change the story. The convict’s hell was, thank God, a human creation alone. This book is about the tension produced by siting the principal gaol of the empire in what proved to be a remarkably benevolent land. It sees this paradox to be the heart of early Tasmanian history, and to have important implications for the nation as a whole.’
In this book, which is mainly focussed on the years between 1803 and 1856, James Boyce writes of a society, principally shaped by convicts and with its own distinctive pre-industrial culture. Geography mattered: with an abundance of game and fresh water, it was possible for a convict in possession of a single dog to ‘live independent and free in the bush’. There were also open grasslands suitable for grazing and it was these, in the hands of a few privileged land owners by the middle of the 19th century, which led to the formal renaming of Van Diemen’s Land as Tasmania in 1856. This renaming was seen as a way of distancing the island from its convict past and while not entirely successful, it had its own impact on the island’s history.
But Tasmania’s history is not only about British colonial administration, convicts, settlers and land-owners. When the first official British settlements were established between 1803 and 1807, there was a significant indigenous population. What happened to this population, both before, during and after the ‘Black War’ of 1828-31 makes for uncomfortable reading. There has been significant debate amongst historians about the numbers of Aborigines killed during this period, but regardless of the actual numbers of people killed the outcome was tragic -for the land as well as for the people. How? Large, destructive bushfires have become a part of Tasmanian life since Aboriginal burning ceased. Increased hunting of the Tasmanian emu rendered that bird extinct, and the Forester kangaroo was almost wiped out. Ironically, these are the two creatures that feature on Hobart’s coat of arms. And, in the southern Midlands particularly, trees began to die – probably killed by possums whose numbers exploded once they were no longer hunted by Aborigines. There’s a long appendix to this book: ‘Towards Genocide: Government Policy on the Aborigines 1827-38’ which is a sad and sobering read.
I like the notion of James Boyce’s book as an environmental history, exploring the relationship between the island and those who chose (or were forced) to live there. While the tragic fate of the Aboriginal tribes is a key part of this history, its primary focus is the first generation of predominantly convict settlers who shaped the island in the first half of the 19th century. Tasmania’s history is quite different from that of New South Wales, and this book provides an explanation for why this is so.
I recommend this book to anyone with an interest in Australian colonial history or with a specific interest in the history of Tasmania.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
And as Van Diemen’s Land, became the enforced home of 42% of the convicts transported to Australia. The island that became home to over 72,000 sentenced criminals had its own unique character, quite different from early New South Wales.
‘The fact that protein-rich shellfish were there for the taking, that wallaby and kangaroo could be killed with nothing more than a hunting dog, and that abundant fresh water and a mild climate made travel by foot relatively easy, does change the story. The convict’s hell was, thank God, a human creation alone. This book is about the tension produced by siting the principal gaol of the empire in what proved to be a remarkably benevolent land. It sees this paradox to be the heart of early Tasmanian history, and to have important implications for the nation as a whole.’
In this book, which is mainly focussed on the years between 1803 and 1856, James Boyce writes of a society, principally shaped by convicts and with its own distinctive pre-industrial culture. Geography mattered: with an abundance of game and fresh water, it was possible for a convict in possession of a single dog to ‘live independent and free in the bush’. There were also open grasslands suitable for grazing and it was these, in the hands of a few privileged land owners by the middle of the 19th century, which led to the formal renaming of Van Diemen’s Land as Tasmania in 1856. This renaming was seen as a way of distancing the island from its convict past and while not entirely successful, it had its own impact on the island’s history.
But Tasmania’s history is not only about British colonial administration, convicts, settlers and land-owners. When the first official British settlements were established between 1803 and 1807, there was a significant indigenous population. What happened to this population, both before, during and after the ‘Black War’ of 1828-31 makes for uncomfortable reading. There has been significant debate amongst historians about the numbers of Aborigines killed during this period, but regardless of the actual numbers of people killed the outcome was tragic -for the land as well as for the people. How? Large, destructive bushfires have become a part of Tasmanian life since Aboriginal burning ceased. Increased hunting of the Tasmanian emu rendered that bird extinct, and the Forester kangaroo was almost wiped out. Ironically, these are the two creatures that feature on Hobart’s coat of arms. And, in the southern Midlands particularly, trees began to die – probably killed by possums whose numbers exploded once they were no longer hunted by Aborigines. There’s a long appendix to this book: ‘Towards Genocide: Government Policy on the Aborigines 1827-38’ which is a sad and sobering read.
I like the notion of James Boyce’s book as an environmental history, exploring the relationship between the island and those who chose (or were forced) to live there. While the tragic fate of the Aboriginal tribes is a key part of this history, its primary focus is the first generation of predominantly convict settlers who shaped the island in the first half of the 19th century. Tasmania’s history is quite different from that of New South Wales, and this book provides an explanation for why this is so.
I recommend this book to anyone with an interest in Australian colonial history or with a specific interest in the history of Tasmania.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith