The band of Romulus, it is most certain,

Were ruffian stabbers and vile cutpurse knaves;

Yet did this outcast scum of all the earth

Lay the foundations of the eternal city.

Before daybreak next morning the light of Port Jackson was visible from the deck of the Leviathan, and shortly afterwards that trusty vessel entered the Heads — two bold bluff precipices, between which lies the entrance to that spacious harbour, supposed to be one of the finest on the surface of the globe. A pilot had come on board to direct the course of the ship to her anchorage; and during the run of nearly seven miles from the entrance of the Port to the site of the town of Sydney Rashleigh had ample opportunities of scanning the external features of the land in which he was destined to find his future home.

The shores of Port Jackson then possessed few charms, either natural or acquired: sandy bays opening to great distances inland, bordered apparently by stunted trees; rocky headlands between each inlet, crowned with similar foliage; and far away, on either hand, a background displaying dense forests of sombre green. There were then none of those elegant mansions or beautiful villas, with their verdant and ever blooming gardens, which now so plentifully meet the eye of the new colonist, affording abundant proofs of the wonted energy of the Anglo-Saxon race, who speedily rescue the most untamed sods from the barbarism of nature and bid the busy sounds of industry and art awaken the silent echoes of every primeval forest in which they are placed.

Not a single patch of cultivated soil appeared in those days to refresh the sight of the wearied voyagers with evidences that here the foot of civilised man had ever trod prior to their arrival. One of the passengers, who had visited New South Wales before, called the attention of his companions on the poop to an isle called Garden Island, and Ralph looked towards the spot, expecting now, at least, to detect some proof of the reclaiming hand of man. But alas, the so-called Garden Island presented nothing to his view but a doubly sterile mass of rugged grey rocks rising from the bosom of one of the numerous bays, and crowned with the same unvarying livery of russet green; but as they rounded the next projecting point they came in view of a small embattled building on a height, which was said to be one of the forts at the entrance of Sydney Cove. Immediately afterwards they saw a straggling range of cottages, mostly of a very small size, which stretched along an eminence, and which were declared by their informant to be a portion of the town of Sydney known as “The Rocks”.

The Magnet was shortly brought to anchor opposite a neck of land on which stood a slaughter-house, and our voyagers could survey the greater part of the town from a very favourable position. The dwellings appeared to he chiefly of one story; in fact, most of them deserved no better name than huts. The streets were narrow and straggling; nor did there seem to be more than half a dozen good or convenient private buildings in the town. There was no cultivated land to be seen from their station, and but a very few miserable cottages, peeping here and there out of the trees, stood upon the north shore of the harbour, in various parts of which there were then about six other large vessels at anchor, besides a good number of small cutters and boats which were passing to and fro continually.

The day after their arrival, the Colonial Secretary, the Principal Superintendent of Convicts, and other officers came on board to muster the newly arrived prisoners, who were each called separately into the cabin, asked their names, ages, religions, native places, trades and a host of other interrogatories, the replies to which were taken down and a personal description of each convict added. When this ceremony had been gone through with all the new arrivals, these official visitors departed and a number of other persons came on board, some seeking news from the “old country”, some to enquire after expected relations, a few of the great ones to ascertain what sort of men the new chums were, and whether there were certain descriptions of persons among them, according to the wants of each querist in the article of labour.

Among others who thus came was an elderly gentleman who kept an academy, whose object was to enquire for a suitable assistant in his scholastic labours. The surgeon superintendent accordingly recommended Ralph Rashleigh, who was at that moment writing in an inner cabin. Being called out, he was presented to the applicant, who questioned him as to his attainments. The answers appeared to prove satisfactory and the schoolmaster departed.

In about a fortnight from their arrival the prisoners on board were again mustered preparatory to their going on shore and received each a new suit of clothing, after which they were placed in boats, by divisions, and rowed to a spot of land near Fort Macquarie, where, being landed, they waited until all had arrived and then proceeded through a part of the public promenade known as the Domain, up to the Prisoners’ Barracks, where they were placed in a back yard by themselves, and shortly afterwards again paraded. On their dismissal a host of the older prisoners insinuated themselves among them for the purpose of bargaining for clothes, trinkets or other property, and many a poor new chum — the distinctive name bestowed upon them by the old hands — was deprived of all his little stock of comforts by the artifices of the others, who appeared to pique themselves in no small degree upon the dexterity with which they could thus pick up (rob) the unwary new-comers.

The day after Rashleigh’s landing the dispersion of his shipmates began, and in four days there remained but himself and two others out of about 140 who had safely reached the Colony with him, the remainder having all been sent, or, as the phrase ran, “assigned”, to the service of private individuals, by tens, fours, threes, or single individuals, according to the priority of application or degree of interest possessed by the masters. Most of these men were employed at the trades or occupations to which they had been brought up or accustomed, except such as had been used to trades which were not then in existence in New South Wales. They were assigned as labourers and sent into the interior. Of these the most numerous class was the weavers, who subsequently made but sorry shifts at using the axe or the hoe, the latter being by far the most usual mode of tilling the soil in tha............