This is chapter 20 of The Penal Preserve, you may want to go back to Chapter 19 or start at the beginning.

20

And so the Line commenced. Franklin declared martial law against every Vacationer resident of the island.¹ The order did not really change anything, except that it authorized the pursuit of all Vacationers in every quarter.²

Franklin then ordered every available Penist to assemble at the starting point, where they were immediately put into a single line, with strict injunctions to keep within forty or fifty yards of each other, so as to form a complete cordon across the island.³ The Line was to be compressed and thickened on the march by those Penists previously deployed on foraging missions, and now residing in various abodes all over the island.⁴

Everything being ready, at a fixed hour the order to advance was passed down the Line, and a simultaneous movement was commenced.⁵ Some went out with the keenness of sportsmen who might at least catch a deer, other were content to enjoy themselves on a lark. The guards were released from their offices and gladly embarked on the action as on a holiday. The prisoners acted and felt as free people, and rejoiced in the interval of freedom.⁶

Progress was dreadfully slow. Much slower than expected, and it was clear that marching across the island in this formation would take many days.

At night, the Penists were divided into groups of three, each forming a watch. Fires were lighted and illuminated the whole distance from the western shore to the eastern, and sentinels were placed within hail of each other.⁷ It must have been an exceedingly pretty sight to see the fires for miles, especially on the tops of hills, and no doubt the sentries’ watchcries coming down the line at intervals helped the effect.⁸

Indeed, the Penists may have been overcome by the romantic nature of the scenery, for it was later noted by several observers that the nightly fires of the Line stripped the island of much vegetation: the ground was torn up by the trafficking of feet, worn out shoes and clothing were strewn about—it had all the appearance of a great assemblage of persons having met and a vast destruction was effected among the trees and twiggy brush of the forest. Nature had been completely dismantled, so they say.⁹

At first, the novelty of the occasion, the fun of camping, the freedom of the wilderness, supported them in their march. But when the rain set in and continued without intermission for some days, the patriotic fervor of the expedition became far less apparent.¹⁰ The weather was exceedingly unfavorable for an overland campaign. The rain fell in torrents, rendered traveling through dripping scrubs, flooded creeks, and deep marshes almost impracticable.¹¹ No such line could possible move in such terrain with any degree of regularity, nor could the necessary communications be kept up.¹²

Chapter 21 tomorrow, same time, same place.

Now therefore, by virtue of the powers and authorities in me in this behalf vested, I, the said Lieutenant Governor, do by these presents declare and proclaim, that from and after the date of this, my Proclamation, and until the cessation of hostilities shall be by me hereafter proclaimed and directed, Martial Law is, and shall continue to be in force against the several black or Aboriginal natives, within the several districts of this Island. George Arthur, Lieutenant-Governor of Van Diemen’s Land, Government Order of November 1, 1828 ↩
This measure was of no great moment, except that it authorised the pursuit of all natives in every quarter. John West, The History of Tasmania Volume 2,1852 ↩
The various detachments of raw recruits arrived in due order at the several starting-points, and were immediately extended into a single line, with strict injunctions always to keep within fifty or sixty yards of each other, so as to form a complete cordon across the country to be searched. George Thomas Lloyd, Thirty-Three Years in Tasmania and Victoria: Being the Actual Experience of the Author Interspersed with Historic Jottings, Narratives, and Counsel to Emigrants 1862 ↩
The lines being compressed and thickened, and joined by the settlers on their march, were then moved forward, followed by scouring parties, to guard against their escape, should the natives cross the line. Henry West, The History of Tasmania Volume 2, 1852 ↩
This being arranged, at a fixed hour the order to advance was passed down the line, and a simultaneous movement was commenced. George Thomas Lloyd, Thirty-Three Years in Tasmania and Victoria: Being the Actual Experience of the Author Interspersed with Historic Jottings, Narratives, and Counsel to Emigrants 1862 ↩
Some went out with the keenness of sportsmen who might at least catch a kangaroo: others were contented to live moderately well at government charge. The clerks, released from their offices, gladly embraced the holiday: the poor prisoner acted and felt as a free man, and rejoiced in the interval of his servitude; and keen and canny volunteers embraced the opportunity to range the unknown territory, for discovery of some neglected spot, which might offer a future home. John West, The History of Tasmania Volume 2, 1852 ↩
Parties were divided into threes, each forming a night watch: fires were lighted for the night, and illumined the whole distance of thirty miles, from Prosser’s River to Sorell; and sentinels paced within hail of each other. **John West, The History of Tasmania Volume 2, 1852 ** ↩
It was an exceedingly pretty sight to see the fires for miles, especially on the tops of hills, and many of the sentries’ watchcrys coming down the line at intervals helped the effect. Henry James Emmett, Reminiscences 1873 ↩
The road through which we traveled this day was where the Line had been formed...Hundreds of thousands of trees had been stripped of their bark and cut down to make fires. The trees were stuck with bullets. On one hill a brush fence had been erected as chevaux de frise against the aborigines. The ground was torn up by the trafficking of carts, horses, bullocks &c in conveying supplies. Shoes of a light description, worn out, was strewed about. It had all the appearance of a great assemblage of persons having met, and vast destruction was effected among the trees of the forest. Stripped of their covering they were left to droop and die, a monument of a well intended but ill-devised plan. Nature had been completely dismantled. Henry James Emmett, Reminiscences 1873 ↩
At first the novelty of the occasion, the fun of an encampment, the freedom of life, supported them in their march. But when the rain set in, and continued almost without intermission for some weeks, the chivalry of the expedition was not so apparent. James Bonwick, The Last of the Tasmanians 1870 ↩
The weather was exceedingly unfavourable for a Bush campaign. The rain fell in torrents during many hours of each day and night for the first fortnight; and rendered traveling through dripping scrubs, flooded creeks, and deep marshes, almost impracticable. George Thomas Lloyd, Thirty-Three Years in Tasmania and Victoria: Being the Actual Experience of the Author Interspersed with Historic Jottings, Narratives, and Counsel to Emigrants 1862 ↩
No such line could possibly move in such a country, with any degree of regularity; nor could the necessary communications be kept up. J E Calder, Some Account of the Wars, Extirpation, Habits, &c., of the Native Tribes of Tasmania 1875 ↩

0 sats \ 0 replies \ @160ed04091 8 Aug

its interesting how the main character finds themselves facing a difficult decision as they grapple with the consequences of their actions leading up to this point. They must confront their inner demons and decide whether to seek redemption or continue down a path of darkness. The chapter delves deep into their emotional and psychological struggles, highlighting the complexities of their journey towards self-discovery and transformation. Ultimately, they must choose between holding onto their past mistakes or embracing the possibility of a new beginning.

20

Footnotes