1846
When, in 1846, Henry had driven his flock to Gippsland, he found the natives in a state of terror of the white man. He wrote on April 30:
The blacks are very quiet here now, poor wretches. No wild beast of the forest was ever hunted down with such unsparing perseverance as they are.
Men, women, and children are shot whenever they can be met with. Some excuse might be found for shooting the men by those who are daily getting their cattle speared, but what they can urge in their excuse to shoot the women and children I cannot conceive. I have protested against it at every station I have been in Gippsland, in the strongest language, but these things are kept very secret as the penalty was certainly be hanging.
Maurice was out with the party after the blacks, but refused to fire on them (as did another of the party, Gorringe), to the intense indignation of the party, who returned leaving them unmolested.
For myself, if I caught a black actually killing my sheep, I would shoot him with as little remorse as I would a wild dog, but no consideration on earth would induce me to ride into a camp and fire on them indiscriminately, as is the custom whenever the smoke is seen.
They will very shortly be extinct. It is impossible to say how many have been shot, but I am convinced that not less than 450 have been murdered altogether.
I remember the time when my blood would have run cold at the mention of these things, but now I am become so familiarized to scenes of horror from having murder made a topic of everyday conversation.
I have heard tales told in some things I have seen that would form as dark a page as ever you read in the book of history, but I thank God I have never participated in them. If I could remedy these things, I would speak loudly though it cost me all I am worth in the world, but as I cannot, I will keep aloof and know nothing and say nothing.
Life in the Bush (1840-1847): A memoir of Henry Howard Meyrick,
Thomas Nelson and Sons, London, 1939