Dr George
Bennett: One of Australia's Great Early Naturalists The Canberra
Times, By Robert Willson 11
April 1992 |
Exactly 160 years ago, a handsome young English medical man was
tramping the bush around Yass, Canberra and Tumut, recording everything that
interested him. Those who want to picture life on the Monaro
in the second decade of British settlement cannot do better than to read the
reminiscences of Dr George Bennett. His "Journal of a Naturalist", entitled Wanderings In New
South Wales, was first published in London in 1834 and has been reprinted in
facsimile. With his scientific training Bennett studied the birds and the animals
of the bush, from the dingo and the flying squirrel, to the fish of the
Murrumbidgee and the kangaroo and the mysterious platypus, and described what
he saw with a vivid style. He recorded the following marvellous
definition of a clergyman as given by one of the Aborigines of the southern
districts, "He, white feller,
belonging to Sunday, get uptop o' waddy, pile long corrobera all
about debbil debbil, and
wear shirt over trowsel". Dr Bennett had an ear for a good story such as the tale of the
bushranger and the Aboriginal girl. It is one of the tragedies of early
Australia that on the bush frontier of settlement the first Europeans encountered
by the Aboriginal tribes were often men of the lowest type, embittered,
lonely convicts working as shepherds and labourers
in the bush. Bennett heard the story of a bush ranger named Tallboy. It is not
clear if this was his nickname or his real name. Tallboy had been a convict
servant, had bolted for the bush, and was wanted for many atrocities by the
police troopers. He had formed a relationship with a girl of the local
Murrumbidgee tribe but we do not know her name. In spite of the fact that he
was often cruel to her, this girl hid Tallboy from the police with true
native ingenuity and baffled those hunting for him. Nothing shook her loyalty
to him. While Tallboy lay low in a cunning hideout, deep in tie scrub, the
girl would hunt and fish to get food for them. She would even visit the stock
keeper's huts at different stations and whatever provisions she could
scrounge she would take back to Tallboy in his hideout. The police with their
trackers watched her carefully and again and again tried to follow her, but
she was far too cunning for them and evaded them or led them on a wild goose
chase. On one occasion the bushranger was on the verge of capture and the
police were closing in on his hideout. Thinking quickly, the Aboriginal girl
boldly stepped out into the open and agreed to take them to Tallboy's place
of concealment at a certain place miles away. She set off with the eager
forces of law and order just behind. When the girl
reached the designated spot there was of course no sign of the fugitive who
was, by this time, well away. Tallboy was eventually captured, according to Bennett, because he had
ventured out of his hiding place once when the girl was absent getting food.
He was taken to Sydney in chains and put on trial for his life. In spite of his
earlier brutality to her the Aboriginal girl heard that he was in prison and
wanted to go to him. Of course it was impossible. Tallboy went to the gallows
in Sydney and the girl was reclaimed by her tribe and forcibly given to
another man. A local Murrumbidgee settler told Dr Bennett the sequel to this story.
The girl very unwillingly became the wife of a member of the local tribe. His
word was law. One day he ordered her to follow him when she was too ill to
stand up. When she could not move he struck her a terrible blow with his axe.
She was later found by the white settler unconscious on the ground. He took
her back to the homestead where she was cared for until she died of her
wound. She left a three-year-old boy by the convict Tallboy. No one seems to
know what happened to the child. There were many such tales on the Australian frontier. Many true
stories have been forgotten or hidden by those who are descended from such
relationships. If the bushranger's real name was Tallboy it is possible that research
in the convict records and early news papers may uncover more information
about him and even the name of the black girl who served him so loyally. George Bennett was also deeply interested in recording all that he could about the flora and fauna of the Monaro. For example, he was impressed by the ability of
the Australian native dog or dingo to endure pain and agony without showing
any signs of its suffering. He wrote that the cunning and endurance of those
animals was almost beyond belief had it not been related by those whose
testimony could be relied upon. He talked to a bushman who told him of a dingo that had been so
severely beaten that it was supposed that every bone in its body had been
broken. The animal was left on the ground for dead. The bushman who had
"killed it" walked some distance and accidentally happened to
glance back. He was amazed to see "master dingo rise, shake himself, and march into the bush, evading all
capture". George Bennett was one of Australia's great early naturalists. Born in
England in 1804, he had an adventurous early career in many parts of the
world and trained in medicinc at the Royal College
of Surgeons. While medical officer on the ship Sophie
be first reached Sydney which was destined to be his eventual home. In the New Hebrides Bennett collected the first complete specimen of
the pearly nautilus which created a great stir among English scientists. His
friend, Richard (later Sir Richard) Owen wrote a scientific study of it which
won him election to the Royal Society. More romantically, Bennett became involved with Elau,
a native girl rescued by the crew of the Sophie
from a bloody inter-tribal fight on Eromanga
Island. He decided to take her home to England but the girl could not stand
the English climate and died in 1834. Bennett decided that he liked what he had seen of Australia and its
fascinating forms of wildlife and returned in 1832 in the ship Brothers, commanded by Captain Bobby
Towns, who gave his name to Townsville. Walking about the streets of Sydney he was impressed with its
progress. It was spring and the trees and flowers of the Domain fascinated
him, especially the trees that shed their bark. He was impressed that every home seemed to have a parrot in a cage at
the front and the screeching and whistling of "Pretty Polly" and
"Sweet Polly" made a din in the Sydney streets.' Bennett loved Alexander Macleay's beautiful
gardens at Elizabeth Bay House, still a gem of colonial architectture
in Sydney, though the gardens have now been swallowed up. He visited the small Colonial Museum, little
guessing that he himself would become one of its greatest supporters and
patrons. In September 1832 Bennett set out with a companion on horseback on his
first ramble into the interior, riding over the Blue Mountains and return ing via the southern
districts. On this trip he managed to secure his first specimens of the platypus,
among them a living female which he dug out of its burrow. Scientists were
mystified by this marvellous creature and Bennett
decided to take the female back to Sydney hoping it would give the answer
whether the animal laid eggs. When he started on horseback on his 200-mile ride home to Sydney the
platypus was in a box. He looked after it with great care but one night at Mittagong the platypus got away. Later on Bennett secured two young ones and kept them in his Sydney
rooms as pets. In one of his letters to Sir Richard Owen in London he writes
while a young platypus plays about the room. In November 1832 Bennett started on his second expedition to the
southern districts. He travelled south through Mittagong,
Goulburn and Yass to Tumut. He records much about the various snakes of the district. At a farm
called Gudarigby, the property of W. H. Dutton on
the Murrumbidgee, these reptiles were very common. One had dropped from the
roof upon a sleeping man's bed during the night. Bennett writes that it caused the man to quit and leave the reptile in
undisturbed possession for the remainder of the night. In the morning a black
snake, a metre long, was found snug among the
blankets. He writes of the habits of the "laughing or feathered
jackass" and its ability to kill snakes. The natives at Yass call the
bird "gogera"
or "gogobera". In a footnote he mentions the English woman who declared that, of all
the wonderful productions of Australia, she thought nothing could equal the
"feathered donkey". In the Tumut district be was fascinated by the "bugong" moths and records what the explorer Hamilton
Hume told him of the habits of these moths, forming the principal food of the
Aborigines during the summer months. The Aborigines had gorged them selves on
these insects leaving few specimens behind. He saw the deserted bark huts
which the natives had temporarily erected when collecting the bogong moths for their feasts. Bennett's book is almost a day-by-day account of his rambles and, with
the aid of atlases and lists of early settlers, it
would be possible by research to work out the exact route of his wanderings.
He mentions every station visited and the name of the owner or overseer. For example, on Octobcr 3, 1832, he and his
companion reached the farm owned by Mr Reddal, where they stayed the night and enjoyed the
excel- lent ale brewed on the farm. About noon the next day they reached "Gonnong"
(Gunning?), a cattle station belonging to Mr
Kennedy, of Appin. Their route was through a beautiful open forest of
picturesque beauty. Black and white cockatoos, with an infinite variety of
the parrot tribe, such as ground parrots, enlivened the scene. Bennett spells the Yass plains as the "Yas
plains" and records the interesting fact that the Aboriginal
pronunciation was "Yar plains". A fascinating article about Bennett in the Medical Journal of
Australia of August 31, 1955, records details of his long and distinguished
career in Sydney as a medical practitioner and naturalist. Someone described
him as the "Nestor of Australian
naturalists". Dr Bennett died 89 years ago in 1893 in Sydney. He had been a
dedicated book collector and bibliophile and it is a tragedy that his vast
library was rejected by Sydney University and was dispersed at auction. Today he is little remembered but those who study his book of
wanderings on the Monaro will find that he has
preserved a vivid picture of this district in the first decades of recorded
history. |