How arrival of the First Fleet affected the Gadigal Peoples
Various accounts
Sources: Various​
Source types: Primary and secondary
Voyage chapters
Voyage chapters
Source type: Primary
Link​: 07 Nov 1913 - DEATH IN EXILE - Trove
DEATH IN EXILE
ABORIGINE'S ENGLISH TOMB
Yemmcrrawanyea, or Yemmerrawannie, who was one of the two
young Australian aborigines brought to England by Governor Phillip, the first Governor of New South Wales, when he returned in 1792, died, probably from cold, in 1794, at the age of 19 and was
buried in the parish churchyard of Eltham, Kent; the picture, reproduced from the "British Australasian," represents his resting place.
Cnptain Walter M. Hitchcock, in order to verify the accuracy of the inscription on the tombstone, which was restored by an Australian colonist 30 years ago, and by another Australian this year, examined the vestry burial records.
Bennilong, the. other native, returned to New South Wales in 1795, and he rejoined his tribe; Captain Phillip had formed a high opinion of the Australian aborigines, ; and he gave the name of Manly to the beach near Sydney because of the demeanor of the natives encountered there. He endeavored to prevent the friendly relations at first prevailing with the aborigines from being destroyed by acts of aggression by Europeans in his domain, but they were not easily controlled.
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Source type: Primary
MEMORY OF FIRST FLEET. NATIVE'S GRAVE IN LONDON.
Mr. Walter K. Harris, F.R.G.S., in a letter published in "Tho British Australasian," gives an interesting account of the grave of an Australian aborigine in a London cemetery.
"It will perhaps come as a surprise to most Australians," Mr. Harris writes, "to know that in Eltham parish churchyard, London, lie the mortal remains of probably the only Australian aborigine who had died outside his native land, and one of the very few who have ever. come to England; also, I expect one of the very few who havo been deemed worthy a headstone. Although the latter stands back only eighteen inches from the railing it in somewhat hard to find.
Tho inscription faces outwards to the asphalt path, which, at the back of the church, runs parallel with
Well Hall road, and separates the church from the old graves, dating back between 1700 and 1800.
Tho Inscription— which is in a fairly good state of preservation, the name showing up particularly well—reads as follows;—
In Memory of
YEMMERRAWANYEA,
A Native of New South Wales,
Who died the 18 of May, 1794
In the 19th year of his age
Very likely Yemmerrawanyea was one of those 'black brudders' of ours, who were brought back to England as curiosities by the officers of the first fleet, though I don't remember having read that any of them died here while enjoying the comforts of so-called civilisation."
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Source type: Primary
Link​: 26 May 1947 - Death Of Aborigine Remembered - Trove
Death Of Aborigine Remembered
The High Commissioner for Australia (Mr. J. A. Beasley) placed a wreath on the grave in Eltham Parish Church. Eltham, of Yemmerrawanyea, the first and possibly the only, Australian aborigine to die in England. Governor Phillip took Yemmerrawanyea with him in England when he returned from Sydney at the end of 1792, and Yemmerrawanyea died of consumption, at the age of 18 on May 18, 1794.
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Source type: Primary
Link​: 21 Feb 1867 - THE FATE OF THE ABORIGINAL INHABITANTS. - Trove
"...No man can witness the triumph of colonisation when cities rise in the desert, and the wilderness blossoms as the rose, without being gladdened by the change, but the question which includes the fate of
the aborigines,- What will become of them must check exultation...
At length the secret comes out: the tribe which welcomed the first settler with shouts and dancing, or at worst looked on with indifference, has ceased to live...
If the accounts of discoverers have been too flattering to the native character, they are explained rather than contradicted by the early colonists. These describe, with exultation, their new acquaintance, when writing to their friends: how peaceful, light-hearted, and obliging. They are charmed by their simplicity; they sleep among them without fear; but these notes soon change, and, passing from censure to hatred, they speak of them as improvident, importunate, and intrusive; as rapacious and mischievous; then as treacherous and blood-thirsty—finally, as devils and beasts of prey. Their appearance is offensive, their proximity obstructive; their presence renders everything insecure. Thus the muskets of the soldier, and of the bandit, are equally useful—they clear the land of a detested incubus.
It is not in the nature of civilisation to exalt the savage. Chilled by the immensity of the distance, he cannot be an equal; his relation to the white man can only be that of an alien, or a slave. By the time astonishment subsides, the power of civilised men is understood, and their encroachment is felt. Fine houses garrison his country, enclosures restrict his chase, and alternately fill him with rage and sadness. He steals across the land he once held in sovereignty, and sighs for the freedom and fearlessness of his ancestors; he flies the track of his invaders, or surprises them with his vengeance..."