Fire, Flogging, Measles and Grass: the influence of early York settlers on bushfire policy in Western Australia
David Ward and Roger Underwood. 2003. Fire, Flogging, Measles and Grass: the influence of early York settlers on bushfire policy in Western Australia. Barladong (4) 2003: 16-27 (Barladong is the journal of the York Historical Society in Western Australia).
Note — this paper is a revision of an earlier paper:
David Ward. 1998. Fire, Flogging, Measles and Grass: Nineteenth Century Land Use Conflict in Southwestern Australia. Dept. of Conservation and Land Management, Western Australia.
Full text of the 1998 paper, which includes references and reprints of colonial correspondence, is [here] (3.6 MB)
Full text of the 2003 paper:
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“Nearly fifty-five miles east of Guildford is the new town of York, laid out on locations of fifty acres each, round the base of a conical hill called Mount Bakewell (which is covered with poa-grass)…” — Nathaniel Ogle, “The Colony of Western Australia: A Manual for Emigrants”, 1839
Conflict over land management is common today. Some of our most contentious political and economic issues are between interest groups promoting different, and often conflicting, land uses such as farming, nature conservation, recreation, urban development, forestry, and water catchment. In this paper we examine a particular conflict in the 1840s, especially in the York district, over the traditional use of bushfire by Noongar people. The historical perspective is relevant to present day conflict over fire management.
Before Europeans settled in south-western Australia, the indigenous Noongar people used the land for hunting and gathering. As with other hunter-gatherers in Africa, India, and the Americas, Noongars used fire as a management tool, and had probably done so for tens of thousands of years. The arrival of Europeans whose homesteads, sheds, stock, crops, pastures and haystacks were vulnerable to fire led to immediate conflict: a fire-vulnerable society was seeking to establish itself in an environment in which fire occurred frequently, and was the dominant land management practice.
The importance of frequent fire in the land use and culture of the Noongars has been set out by West Australian scholars such as Associate Professor Sylvia Hallam [1] and Dr. Neville Green [2]. Amongst a wealth of historical references, Sylvia Hallam noted Lt. Bunbury’s [3] estimate of two to three years between bushfires in the parts of the south-west that he had visited in the 1830s. She also noted Major Mitchell’s [4] perceptive comment of 1848, based on observations in other parts of Australia, that
Fire, grass, kangaroos, and human inhabitants, seem all dependent on each other for existence…
Neville Green drew on observations by the surgeons Scott Nind and Alexander Collie, at King George’s Sound in the 1830s, to amplify the links between hunting, vegetation, fire, land ownership, and seasonal migration between inland and the coast. John Mulvaney and others [5] painstakingly deciphered Captain Collet Barker’s handwriting, and gave further information on the importance of fire to the Meananger group of Noongars on the south coast.
In the early 1840s, Sir William Hooker, at Kew Gardens in London, was having trouble growing Australian plants. The Colonial Botanist, James Drummond [6], who lived in the Avon valley, wrote to Hooker and pointed out that plants in south-west Australia were commonly burned every three to four years. He described a trigger plant (Stylidium elegans) which only flowered to perfection two years after a fire, then seemed to suffer from nutrient deficiency, due to lack of ash. At about the same time, John Gilbert [7], the visiting English naturalist, noted dense thickets of Melaleuca on flats and around swamps north of York, possibly near Northam. He said that in order to capture banded hare wallaby (Lagostrophus fasciatus) and tamar (Macropus eugenii)
the natives are in the habit of burning these thickets at intervals of three years, and thus destroy very great numbers; this in fact appears to be the only plan they could very well adopt for capturing both Marnine (hare wallaby) and Tamar…
By the mid-1840s, York and the surrounding areas in the Avon Valley had become a critically important area for the survival of the colony, providing the bulk of the grain and wool. However, in the summer of 1845/46 the York settlers suffered grievous losses of grain, stock and pasture from bushfires, mainly lit by Noongars. Governor Andrew Clarke had been appointed only a few weeks before, so he asked the Colonial Secretary, Peter Broun, to write to all Resident Magistrates and Protectors of Natives for their views on what could be done to prevent, or diminish, the damage [8].
The first reply, dated March 2nd of 1846, was from Revett Henry Bland, Protector of Natives, one of York’s first settlers. He blamed the settlers themselves for some of the fires, but pointed out that it was the Noongar custom to burn in summer, and that this burning had a number of benefits. It helped them with their hunting, and without it they could not feed themselves. Noongars traditionally hunted possums in December and January by setting fire to hollow trees. When the tree fell, a grass fire ensued which might run for many miles until it hit a track, or other barrier. He noted that the feed was always better where the dead grass had been burnt off, and that bushfires killed snakes and other reptiles. Bland could find no malicious intent in the natives’ fires, but suggested that they might be encouraged to hold off burning near sheep runs until autumn if they were rewarded with clothes and flour.
A day later the York Magistrate, Captain Richard Goldsmith Meares [9], put pen to paper. He clearly understood the importance of burning to Noongars, but felt that the interests of the settlers should come first. He suggested that part of the problem lay in the Squatting Act, which had opened new areas to settlement, so driving the Noongars further out. Like Bland, he favoured giving a bushel of wheat to each “tribe” (sic), provided they did not burn the sheep runs. It should be of interest to present day fire ecologists that he named January and February as the most active times for Noongar burning. These are the dormant times for most native plants, when fire does little damage to rootstocks. Experiments have shown that Kangaroo Grass (Themeda triandra), which was formerly much more common on clayey soils between York and Albany [10], thrives best on summer burning every second year or so [11]. If it is burnt annually, or in other seasons, or not burnt at all, it eventually disappears, and this may well be true for many native plants.
On the same day as Captain Meares, the Protector of Natives in the Swan Valley, Charles Symmons, also responded to the Governor’s request for a report on the bushfire situation. He wrote a balanced letter, in which he too recognised that burning was, for Noongars, a “most ancient and cherished” privilege. He was sceptical of any success in entirely preventing their fires, but said that it was worth trying to prevent them burning before March. After that they might burn, provided that they avoided settlers’ homesteads. Again, he suggested an issue of flour on the first of March, provided no burning had been done before that date.
The redoubtable Lt.-Colonel John Molloy wrote from the Vasse on the 17th. March 1846. He was the leader of the party which had settled at Augusta in 1830, but he moved in 1839 to the grassy (i.e. frequently burnt) country around present day Busselton. His wife, Georgiana [12], was knowledgeable about the Noongars and their fires, having spent some time in the bush in their company, collecting seeds for James Mangles in London. Molloy’s understanding of the benefits to the vegetation of the frequent and traditional Noongar fires shows in his letter. He spoke of the “incendiary propensities of the Natives“, but said that the settlers at the Vasse had not suffered any great inconvenience from them. He believed that “far from Bush fires being generally offensive … they are not only necessary but salubrious.” Molloy recommended that settlers take the obvious step of burning breaks around their properties, and offering three pounds of flour to each Noongar, and a “General Corrobory“, if they desisted from burning until after the settlers’ crops were harvested.
Francis Corbet Singleton was the Resident Magistrate for the Murray District. Writing on the 7th of March 1846, from his 10,000 acre farm at the junction of the Murray and Dandalup Rivers (near present day Pinjarra), he mentioned the importance of burning to the Noongars for obtaining food. He said that the most successful fires for killing “extraordinary numbers” of animals were those driven by a strong wind. The use of fast moving fires in light fuel by Aborigines to kill small animals has been noted in recent times in the Northern Territory [13]. Further, such fires avoid damage to tree crowns and fruits. The flattened, fast moving flames in light fuel do little damage, whereas a slow moving fire in the same, or heavier, fuel may reach, and scorch, tree crowns.
Interestingly, Singleton said that half the sandy country to the west of the Darling Range was burnt each year. Allowing for patchiness, this still implies overall biennial burning. Although no work has yet been done in Singleton’s area, recent research [14] into fire marks on old grasstrees further north show clearly that the scarp face and re-entrant floors near John Forrest National Park were burnt biennially up to the 1840s. This suggests that native grasses were an important fuel component. This should be coupled with the fact that the land at the junction of the Murray and Dandalup Rivers was described by a Mr. Carter, in 1834, as a rich, grassy plain of about 4,000 acres [15].
George Fletcher Moore [16], in 1832, described the hills near his home in the Swan Valley as carrying “very luxuriant grass“, and Moore said that James Drummond, the botanist, had even then identified “fifty-four varieties of native grasses, most of them perennial; but the most abundant grass is annual… .” The annual grass referred to must be Austrostipa compressa, which still germinates abundantly following fires on the scarp or coastal plain. The following summer it disappears, and is not seen again until after the next fire. If it was, in the 1830s, the most abundant grass, then there must have been a lot of what Noongars called bokyt, or recently burnt ground. Drummond himself said, elsewhere [17] that
Funaria hygrometrica (a ubiquitous moss) is far more luxuriant and abundant here than in Britain, delighting to grow in the burnt earth of which we have so much.
At Bunbury relations with the Noongar seem to have been amicable. George Eliot, the Resident Magistrate there, like Molloy at the Vasse, regarded fire as a benefit rather than an evil, since it “produces better food for the stock and also destroys an enormous number of Reptiles and Insects… .” Eliot also suggested that settlers should burn breaks around their property, and reward Noongars if they did not burn until autumn. He was the first to suggest using Noongars to fight fires coming in from further afield, a suggestion later taken up by the York settlers. Traditionally, Noongars beat out unwanted fires with green branches [18]. If these were the only tools available to the Noongars, then clearly the fires were much milder, due to more frequent burning, than those of today. Up to the 1920s green marri (Corymbia calophylla) branches, or wet bags, were still the main fire fighting tool of farmers and foresters. At a Mundaring conference in 1923, Forester Smith said that “green branches of redgum had been found the most effective method of suppressing a fire.” George Brockway agreed, saying that “healthy redgums are preferable to jarrahs, which are too delicate, and wandoos, which are too heavy.” [19]. Noongars must surely have known the same thing.
Captain John Scully, Resident Magistrate at Toodyay, was brief. Perhaps he was preoccupied with other matters, for he returned soon after to Ireland [20]. He could find no evidence of malicious intent in Noongar burning, but took a hard line on punishment. He proposed committing offenders to “hard labour in a house of correction.”
In November 1846 the Governor received another letter from York, written by Captain Meare’s clerk. The Captain wanted to know what steps had been taken on the fire issue, as the Noongars had already started their “abominable practice.”
No doubt prompted by this letter, on the 10th of December 1846, George Fletcher Moore, by then Colonial Secretary, wrote to the Advocate General. He enclosed all the above letters for consideration on the possibility of preparing legislation “for the purpose of checking or regulating in any way the practice of burning the natural vegetation.”
The outcome was An Ordinance to diminish the Dangers resulting from Bush Fires passed by the Legislative Council on the 2nd of September 1847 on the authority of Frederick Chidley Irwin, Governor and Commander-in-Chief. The advice of those with some understanding of the social importance of fire to Noongars, and its place in bushland ecology, was ignored. Instead, the Council opted to try to abolish summer fires in Western Australia. In this ordinance, anyone setting fire to grass, stubble, shrub, or other natural vegetation between the first day of September and the first day of April could be fined up to fifty pounds. If such a person was an Aboriginal Native or a boy under the age of sixteen then they could be flogged, receiving any number of lashes not exceeding fifty. The right of appeal extended only to those fined ten pounds or more.
If the law was effective in reducing fire frequency, at least in places close to settlement, then there must have been significant changes in native vegetation and animal populations. Native grass genera, such as Themeda, Austrostipa, and Danthonia, would have declined, and been replaced by woody shrubs or trees. Fires, although less frequent, would still have occurred, due to lightning or accident, and would have been fiercer, and harder to suppress. This change is well known in African grassland where fire and grazing are excluded for a long period, leading to invasion by thornbush. The subsequent thornbush fires are very hot, and eat into remnant pockets of rain forest which were, in the past, protected by African cattlemen frequently burning the grass around them.
Native grasses in south-western Australia were mentioned by several early explorers and settlers, including Ensign Dale on his pioneering trip to the Avon valley in 1830; Captain Bannister on his 1830s journey from Kelmscott to King George Sound; George Fletcher Moore in his diary for the 1830s; and the Gregory brothers in the 1840s north of Perth. Apparently drawing on Moore, Nathaniel Ogle described Mt. Bakewell as grassy. The Gregory brothers described large areas of native grass around springs and water-holes, and along water courses. They mentioned the vast flocks of parrots which fed on the grass seeds.
There are still remnant pockets of native grasses, including the beautiful Kangaroo Grass, on clayey soils along the Darling Scarp at Mundaring, Gosnells, Kelmscott, and Harvey. Remnants also occur at Baker’s Hill, in the Canning Valley, near Boddington and Darkan, at Nannup, and east of Manjimup, mostly on private property or on road and rail verges which were burnt frequently until quite recently. Unfortunately these patches seem to be declining under the present policy of either excluding fire for long periods, or burning in still, damp conditions in spring or autumn. They have also probably declined due to trampling by stock, and rabbit infestation. Kangaroo Grass forms clumps, and so would have been important habitat for small native animals.
York was well known for its winter native grasses. Indeed, that is why it was named after that green and grassy place in England. An Irish member of the first official party wanted to call it after the green hills of Tipperary. This name was eventually given to the property of an early settler just north of York, and is still in use today.
The early York settler, Eliza Brown, wrote to her father in England in March 1843 [21], saying that the coming rain would “at once provide plenty of grass for all descriptions of stock.” Her husband Thomas clearly knew the effect of fire in promoting the native grasses, for in a letter dated October 1843 Eliza described his satisfaction at the burning of Mount Matilda in the previous February. She told her father that the fire would ensure “a much more luxuriant crop of grass” and supposed that to be the reason why “the Natives are allowed to pursue their custom.” However, by October 1850 Thomas was forced to shift his stock north to Champion Bay “for a year at least as the York and Toodyay districts have been overstocked and the land requires rest for the feed to recover itself.”
Was it only overstocking that caused the grass to decline, or was it also due to a decline in Noongar fire frequency following the flogging edict, and various other conflicts?
It is also interesting to speculate about the effect on the Noongar population, and therefore on their burning practices, of disease epidemics, such as the measles outbreaks in the winters of 1861, 1862, 1883 and 1884 [22]. There is evidence that these outbreaks alone killed many adult Noongars [23], as well as Europeans who had been born in the colony, and so had not acquired immunity as a child. According to Daisy Bates [24], the words “jangga meenya bomungurr” were still in use in the early 1900s, meaning “the smell of the whiteman is killing us.” The survivors of these epidemics largely abandoned traditional life, and moved into camps on the outskirts of country towns. This must have caused a depopulation of bushland areas, and a consequent decline in traditional hunting and burning [25].
As an example, there was a group of Noongars who used to travel up the Dandalup and Hotham Rivers, and across to Dryandra each winter. There is some evidence that this group was wiped out entirely by measles in the winter of 1860 [26]. They moved up the river in autumn, but did not return. Fire marks on old grasstrees at Dryandra show biennial fires along the creeks up to 1860, but intervals of ten years or so after that. Although, due to recent fire exclusion, no native grass is now to be seen at Dryandra, there are still patches of Kangaroo Grass along the roadside nearby, which has been burnt, but not grazed.
Nevertheless, despite laws and disease, Janet Millett [27] could still remark in the 1860s at York that
In that month (February), which corresponds to August in the north, the dryness of the West Australian forest has reached its culminating point, and the sight of trees on fire is so much of an everyday matter as to excite little attention.
In the 1870s at Jerramungup, Ethel Hassell [28] observed the man carl dance of late summer, which was the prelude to both men and women spreading out over the countryside and burning large areas. She also described how Noongars sometimes fired their huts when they moved camp, and walked off, leaving the fire to spread where it would. At a conservative estimate there were about a thousand family units spread over the south-west, coming together in larger groups when food was locally plentiful. If they moved camp only a few times each year, this alone would have caused thousands of fires each year, spreading without any attempt at suppression.
Land use conflict is still with us, and solutions which will please everybody are hard to find. Linked to the conflict on land use, is a parallel debate on land management, in particular the use of deliberate fire as a management tool by farmers, foresters, rangeland managers, and the Bushfire Service. It is hoped that the information and observations here presented will encourage us all to define our terms more clearly, and to consider the historical perspective.
