Woolloongabba
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Historic Church
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Bygone Brisbane
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Valley of the Marroon
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Coaching
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Sandgate
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Spring Hill
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Southport
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Stradbroke Island
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By an Old Resident
September 1922
A resident of Woolloongabba who has had more than 40
years of experience on different mining fields in Queensland,
makes a plea for deep sinking on the Palmer and Hodgkinson,
and incidentally gives some old time recollections. He writes:
Mining may be a great and glorious gamble but we must
remember that no other industry affords such a free and
independent living, and also causes a circulation of money.
Take West Australia, as an example, and the progress that has
been made since the gold discoveries that were responsible for
the distribution of millions of pounds of foreign capital, and
incidentally added greatly to the comfort of many who were
struggling for a livelihood in other branches of industry or
channels of commerce.
There are, I dare say, persons still residing in
Brisbane who can recall the deplorable times that existed here
previous to gold discoveries, and particularly the famous
Gympie rush that took place after the late James Nash reported
his find; and I suppose that they can still retain memories of
the prosperous times that followed when gold was easily won
and more easily lost. Previous to Gympie, this State was in a
very deplorable condition- work being hard to get. Good men
were then toiling for ten hours a day on a princely wage of 15
shillings per week and tucker, which chiefly consisted of what
was known as 8-10-2-¼, that is 8 lb of flour, 10 lb of beef,
2lb of sugar and a quarter of tea.
Where Roma Street railway station now stands was in
those days a scene of calico, for the Government had placed
there numbers of Peto and Brassey’s navies, at the magnificent
wage of 2 /-6d per day. Some persons may discredit these
statements but the fact remains that something had to be done
to satisfy the infuriated mob who were daily parading in Queen
Street with a huge banner that bore the doleful sign of “Bread
or Blood.”
Those were stirring times, and I can recall an instance
that happened in the street just about opposite where the
Belfast Hotel is at the present time. The mob had become
almost uncontrollable and a justice of the peace mounted a
cask and began to read the Riot Act, when a well directed
brick bat knocked him off his perch.
The Queensland Bank had failed, and bank notes were
being sold for anything they would bring, which reminds me of
an old identity named Morwitch (of three ball fame) who bought
up thousands of them, and was well rewarded when the
reconstruction took place. During my wanderings in search of
the elusive metal in many and various parts of this State, I
have come across some of the navies who were participants in
that memorable parade.
Martial law was declared and a great number of citizens
were sworn in as “specials” to help restore law and order.
Courier February 20, 1920.
By “Nut Quad”
In this column a little while ago, there was described
a forgotten stream, which, in the middle of last century,
entered the town at the site of the horse ferry in Creek
Street, and, after passing through several city blocks,
finally ended near the Town Hall reserve.
This was sometimes called the “Big Creek,” to
distinguish it from a smaller one which joined the river near
the present Port Office. This latter was called the “Little
Creek,” and crossed Edward Street just about where Fenwick’s
tallow warehouse now stands; or to be a little more precise,
on the site of the lane between their wool exchange and the
warehouse.
In the mid fifties, 1850s, of last century, a 6 inch wooden plank placed across the creek served as a bridge to enable foot passengers to pass along Edward Street. To safely cross the plank after dark required a certain amount of skill; but in those days (long before the introduction into Brisbane of gas or kerosene), citizens whose duties took them into the street after nightfall carried a horn lantern, into which had been inserted the homely tallow candle.
Between Margaret Street and Mary Street, there were
only four allotments on the southern front of Edward Street.
Charles Windmell was the owner of the ground at the corner of
the last named street and Edward Street, upon which now stands
the store of the Australian Estates and Mortgage Company.
A man named Towell owned the next piece and then came
Jerry Scanlan, the landlord of the Queensland Hotel.
Fenwick’s buildings stand on the land then owned by
Scanlan and Towell.
John McCabe was the owner of the block at the corner of
Mary and Edward Streets, upon which was afterwards erected
Amos Braysher’s Metropolitan Hotel (now the Savoy). Mr.
Braysher had been chief steward of the Telegraph
steamer when captain O’Reilly was master.
After leaving Edward Street, the creek entered Towell’s
property, and ran nearly parallel to the Edward Street front
down to Windmell’s corner. The creek thus divided Towell’s
land into two portions of unequal size, and to get into his
dwelling he had to cross the creek- on a plank.
The creek passed through several properties on the
western side of Margaret Street, and crossed to the eastern
side of the street between Perkin’s and Dalgety’s. Before
reaching Albert Street, it returned to the western side, and
then was lost in a swamp which extended into the Botanic
Gardens on one side, and to Elizabeth Street on the other.
The whole length of Albert Street, and for some
distance on each side of it, was a swamp, known in early days
as Frog’s Hollow, from the incessant and deafening noise made
day and night in wet weather by millions of frogs. On the
occasion of the high spring tides, water from the river flowed
up the creek and invaded backyards in Elizabeth, Charlotte,
Mary, and Margaret streets. In flood time, Albert Street from
the Gardens to Elizabeth Street was submerged to a depth of
several feet, and the flood waters extended quite one third of
the distance towards Edward Street and George Street. The only
channel for the escape of the water was of course the creek,
and as this passed through a number of private properties, it
was often choked with garden weeds and rubbish, and it
sometimes took the water a couple of days to reach the river.
If we now cross to South Brisbane, we shall find that
in the mid fifties, 1850s, a fairly large creek entered the
river near the site of Birt’s present wharf, upon which then
stood William Connolly’s Union wharf and store. Mr. Connolly
was the local agent for a line of small sailing vessels which
then traded between Sydney and Brisbane. These included the
schooners Lavinia 100 tons; Souvenir, 100
tons; Toroa, 100
tons; Mary Stewart, 110 tons; Beaver, 100 tons; and the Ann
Mary, 60 tons. We also had an occasional visit from the
barque Bella Vista, 200 tons. In addition to these we
had a couple of “liners,” belonging to the H.R.S.N. Company –
the steamers Eagle, 170 tons; and the Tamar, 150
tons. These were the days of small things, and the most
sanguine amongst us never expect to see in the Brisbane River
a monster vessel like the Ormonde, of nearly 15,000
tons; it would take 150 vessels like the schooner Beaver to equal the tonnage
of this vessel. Midway between the river and Stanley street
the creek curved to the west, and, crossing Glenelg Street,
ran up to within a few feet of J. and W. Orr’s (now Baynes’)
butchering establishment, having an alluvial bank of earth,
50ft or 60ft wide between the river and the creek. On a
portion of this bank the Orrs had erected a slaughterhouse, in
which to kill calves and sheep, and other small animals.
Between Orr’s and Connolly’s, the creek made a fine
stretch of water in which boys who are now grey headed had
their morning dip. Attendance Orr’s the creek turned abruptly,
and returned along Stanley street almost back to Connolly’s,
crossing Glenelg street again on the way. Here it again turned
on the west, and touched the corner of the ground occupied by
the old Mechanic’s Institute (the Institute is now a portion
of a bog and bale factory). After leaving the Institute, the
creek crossed at right angles Grey and Glenelg streets, and
midway by Glenelg and Ernest streets, made a sharp curve on
the Grey street frontage. From this curve a smaller branch of
the creek, by a circuitous route, ended its course near the
corner of Tribune and Merivale Streets. The main branch, after
leaving the curve in Grey Street again, turned westerly
crossing Glenelg Street once and Hope Street twice, and after
passing through several allotments, ended in the neck of a
swamp near the intersection of Russell and Merivale Streets.
In Russell Street, a bridge only wide enough to accommodate
one vehicle at a time, had been placed across this neck for
the convenience of those farmers who brought their produce
into South Brisbane from Hill End. This swamp occupied the
whole of the Merivale street frontages to Melbourne street,
and also the whole of the last named street almost up to the
course of Grey Street. In several places where the creek
crossed a street, a round log had been thrown across the
watercourse to serve the purpose of a bridge. But surface
appearances have gone. The material excavated from the Dry
Dock in the 1880s was placed upon the South Brisbane streets,
and all traces of the old creek and the swamp have been
entirely obliterated. In your issue of December 27, a
correspondent signing himself “J. H. T,” says he thinks I must
have been mistaken in saying that a presentation was made to
the late Mr. O’Carroll on his resigning the editorship of the
“Courier,” over 50 years ago, as he was in the office in 1873.
Will you permit me to point out that I did not say that Mr.
O’Carroll had resigned, but that he had retired from that
position. As a matter of fact, Mr. O’Carroll held a
responsible position on the literary staff of the “Courier,”
for many years after 1869.
“An Old Brisbaneite of the Sixties” referring to some
remarks I made in connection with Child’s Paddock at Newstead
a few weeks ago, writes to me an interesting personal
reminiscence as follows:
“I worked near Child’s farm in 1867. Larry O’Neill
rented it for his cows. It had been sown down with English
grass, and there was but a few acres cultivated round the
house at that time. My daily job was to bring the cows there
from Bulimba ferry every morning and fetch them back in the
evening. Overlooking the paddock was a good sized brick house
where lived the Rev. John Kingsford, the Minister of the Jireh
Church- a big man with a full beard. My sister was staying
there at the time and I lived in daily dread that she would
spot me, for I was absent from headquarters without leave. The
remains of the old flood gate were there then, and spring
tides backed the water up to the Waterloo Inn, on Bulimba
Road. The old Waterloo was about 70 yards lower down that the
present hotel. Where the hotel now stands was occupied by a
large lagoon. Jacob Poole used to drive O’Neill’s cart, but
left him when O’Neill went to Teviot Brook. He married a girl
cook at Jerry Scanlon’s Queensland Hotel, and it was Jerry who
almost forced Jacob to buy a little farm about a mile below
the Hamilton and lent him the money to get it. Here he reared
his family and made a good living. If he holds it now, it must
be worth a bit. Jerry Scanlon was an eccentric Irishman with a
big heart and Jacob was not the only hard worker to whom he
gave a useful lift. It has since struck me very often that the
class of colonists we met in those days, English, Scotch, and
Irish (and I’ll even include our early German tourists) were,
for industry, honesty, and perseverance, far and away ahead of
those who came later on. They overcame difficulties that
present day people would never face; and they saved and throve
on earnings at which men and women would nowadays scoff.
**
Sir, In
your medium recently some very interesting old Qld historical
matter has been unearthed owing to the queries re the supposed
galleon at Stradbroke Island. Probably there may be a few of
your readers who will remember some of the following incidents
witnessed by my father Mr. Wm J. Sparkes, who is 83 years old.
He was born in Sydney (1838) having come to Queensland, which
was then known as Moreton Bay, when he was 2 years of age
(1840). Queensland had not then secured her right of self
government. While a lad attending a school known as St. John’s
which was presided over by a Mr. Johnson, and situated at a
spot at the rear of the old Longreach Hotel buildings, he was
guilty of playing truant to witness the hanging of an
aboriginal named Dundulla.
Dundulla murdered a family at Stoney Creek, and he paid
the penalty of his crime on the scaffold, which was erected
where our General Post Office in Queen Street now stands. A
square was formed around the scaffold by the 50th
Regiment. Dundulla, proving a little fractious, gruesomely
danced up and down his coffin until his legs and arms were
pinioned by the hangman, J. Green, who came from Sydney for
the execution.
An incident which created a good deal of sensation took
place about 65 years ago, and in which Mr. Sparkes figured. It
was a raid by the blacks at the Pine River. He happened to be
at Mrs. Cash’s residence (the only one on the Pine) and the
blacks sacked the house. They could nothing but look on, and
ultimately Mrs. Cash and himself hid in a hollow stump, and
then made for a surveyor’s camp, and the blacks followed their
tracks there, but made off as soon as they sighted the camp
tents.
When Mrs. Cash returned home, he gave chase to the
blacks, with the aid of Inspector Sneyd, of the Mounted
Police. The Pine River was a great trysting ground for
deserters off the sailing ships calling in at Moreton Bay and
the late Mrs. Cash proved a very good friend to many of these
wanderers when they hungered.
The first horse race in Queensland was witnessed by Mr.
Sparkes. It was won by a horse owned and ridden by a man named
Flynn. The course lay round by George Street via Elizabeth
Street, and back round where old St. John’s Cathedral (now
Queen’s Square) stood for so many years. Mr. Sparkes was
present at the laying of the foundation stone of the old
edifice in 1854.
Dealing with the islands in the Bay, he remembers the
news being received of the murder of a man named Joe Gold by
the aboriginals on Moreton Island. Gold was engaged in a
smoking mullet enterprise. Mr. Thos O’Shaughnessy of Fortitude
Valley, could give some information on the question of the
wild cattle on Stradbroke Island. He secured a number there
probably before Mr. Belliss of Nerang, and these were shot and
boiled down on the island. One of the first editors of the
“Courier” was well-known to Mr. Sparkes. He was a Mr. Davis,
and he was in charge in 1858, when Mr. J. Swan had a big
interest in the venture. Swan Hill owes its name to Mr. J.
Swan. Quite a number of incidents in connection with the
blacks in and around Brisbane as far back as 1849 are quite
fresh in my father’s memory.
Wm. P.
Sparkes,
Kuraby,
South
Coast Line.
April 7,
1921.
The Coming of the Cane
October 8, 1921.
Sugar cane was grown in the
Moreton Bay district long before Qld was permitted to
officially inscribe her name on the map of Australia as a
separate and independent colony. When Mr. Buhot arrived in
1862, the total population of the new territory was little
more than 30,000 and Brisbane was, of course, a very small
city.
The infant colony had then recently started on her
career. She had already overcome some of the initial
difficulties connected with the establishment of a new
Government, and was making preparations for increased
development in her pastoral and agricultural areas.
In emphasizing the importance to Queensland of cane
cultivation and sugar manufacture, Mr. Buhot, who, as stated,
has been called the father of the sugar industry in
Queensland, showed that intense earnestness of purpose which
is essential in all undertakings if success is to be achieved.
By means of numerous letters to the Press, by frequent
interviews with public men, and by lectures in Brisbane and
elsewhere, he aroused public opinion to a state of enthusiasm
on the subject, and many men already on the land were induced
to embark on the business of cane planting. Lands prodigal in
fertility were waiting for the plough, and he assured farmers
that from the success already won in a number of instances,
the new industry would soon be like a young giant awakening
from a long sleep.
On account of the practical knowledge and long
experience in the West Indies, his services as manager were in
request on several of the plantations then in the colony, and
in addition to laying out and superintending the first year’s
work on Captain Hope’s plantation at Ormiston, he instructed
the staff during the first year’s operations on the Caboolture
Cotton Company’s estate. He also laid out and planted the
Oaklands estate, the property of the late Hon. C. B. Whish. At
various times he was engaged in the Victoria Cotton Company’s
estate, the Noyea estate on the Albert River, the Pimpana
Sugar Company’s estate on the Pimpana River, and superintended
the erection of the company’s mill.
His lectures in Maryborough induced many farmers in the
Mary River district to take up sugar lands, and in 1864, he
manufactured sugar in the School of Arts in that town.
He erected the first central factory on the Mary and
operated the works for the first season’s sugar production.
In the early months of 1870, Mr. Buhot contributed to
the “Queenslander” several papers on cane planting and
sugar making. “Sugar should be made in the field,” he said,
“and the planter, not the boiler, should be held responsible
for the quality and the quantity of the yield.”
By the mid 1860s, the industry had obtained a footing
at Maryborough, Bundaberg, Isis, Mackay, Lower Burdekin, and
was afterwards established on the Herbert and Johnstone
Rivers, Cairns, and the Bloomfield River.
In 1867, there were nearly 2000 acres of land under
cane and six mills were working, while in the following year,
1868, there were about 28
mills in operation, and about 5000 acres under cane.
Rapid and eye opening developments then took place in
the early 1870s and the industry became well established in
the North, particularly in the Mackay and in the Herbert and
Johnstone River districts.
The late Hon. C. H. Fitzgerald and John Spiller planted
the first sugar cane in Mackay and the first mill (the
Alexandra) was erected by Messrs Fitzgerald and Davidson in
1868.
Shortly afterwards, the following mills were erected:-
Pleystowe, Bramscombe, Nebia, Dumbleton, Pioneer, Foulden and
Cassida.
The Park Presbyterian Church
January 14, 1905
One of the most interesting
features in the history of our older churches is to be found
in the removals which have taken place from their original
sites. These removals have been brought about by the increase
of settlement around the original churches, and a consequent
rise in land values, which in each case has made it worth the
while of the church trustees to dispose of their original
sites, and purchase others then of less value. These second
properties have in their turn improved in value as the years
roll on, so that our churches have reaped a substantial
harvest of increment, thanks to the foresight and acumen of
those who secured the original properties.
What is
now known as the Park Presbyterian Church, Glenelg Street,
South Brisbane, is a case in point, its having had its origin
from a small wooden building erected in Grey Street upon a
spot now covered by the South Brisbane (Melbourne Street)
Railway Station. In going back to those earlier years, a
controversial area is opened up, the adherents of the Ann
Street (Brisbane) Presbyterian Church and the Park Church each
claiming to be present day embodiment of that parent church
and each holding that the other is the branch church. In the
compilation of this sketch, however, an effort will be made to
relate as far as possible the actual historical facts
disclosed by the records to which we have obtained access,
without taking any part in the controversy referred to.
All
records agree that the first steps towards forming a distinct
Presbyterian fellowship were taken at the latter end of 1849,
some six months or so after the establishment of the United
Evangelical Church under the Rev. Chas. Stewart.
An impression exists in some minds that the
establishment of a Presbyterian Church in South Brisbane
followed the disintegration of the United Evangelical Church,
but this is evidently incorrect.
As a matter of fact, it was not until 1855 that the
evangelical congregation divided, and a purely Presbyterian
congregation had then been established for some years in Grey
Street.
As early as 1849, a meeting was held of those who
desired to form a purely Presbyterian Church. Amongst active
workers in the movement were the late D. C. McConnel, of
Cressbrook, (whose descendants are well-known residents
still), and the late Rev. Thomas Mowbray, a gentleman who gave
his name to the considerable area of land since known as
Mowbraytown, now closely settled. In those old days
Mowbraytown was looked upon as part of Kangaroo Point
district, and it was at the residence of Mr. Mowbray, at
Kangaroo Point, that these pioneer Presbyterians held their
meetings.
Mr. Mowbray had been a minister of the Established
Church of Scotland, and had been driven to these shores in
1847, by continuous ill health. The fact that he was spared
until the 24th December 1867 is evidence that he
profited by our genial climate and during those twenty years
he won for himself a worthy name as a Christian worker. At
that first meeting in October 1849 already referred to, only
preliminary steps appear to have been taken. Two months later,
however, on 12th December 1849, a further meeting
was held, at which those present formed themselves into a
committee to secure support for a Church founded upon “the
great doctrines set forth in the Westminster Confession of
Faith.” That committee consisted of Mr. D. C. McConnel,
(chairman), the Rev. T. Mowbray (secretary), and Messrs.
McAdam, Inglis, McIntyre, McNaught and Stewart.
This
pioneer committee appointed an executive with instructions to
purchase a site for a church, as the good people disdained the
State aid which would no doubt have given them in the shape of
a grant had they so desired it. The executive accordingly
purchased a piece of land in Grey Street from Mr. Dowse. Mr.
Little, solicitor, acted for the executive in conducting the
purchase. This land was at once vested in Messrs. McConnel,
Mowbray, Cairncross, Gray and McIntyre. People who know
Brisbane well will have no difficulty in connecting the name
of Cairncross with the well-known estate, on the banks of the
Brisbane River, which afterwards came to be known as Colmslie.
The Mr. Cairncross referred to was also father-in-law to the
Hon. A. J. Thynne, M.L.C.
Early in
the year 1850, steps were taken to utilise the Grey Street
land, and the tender of Mr. John Graham (£112) was accepted
for the erection of the weatherboard church first up.
The builder, Mr. Graham, was the father of the
gentleman who was well-known for years after in connection
with the Bridge Hotel, which stood in Stanley Street, where
O’Connor’s Hotel is now situated.
As time went on several alterations and additions were
made to the building with the object of improving and
increasing the accommodation but there are no pictures to be
discovered showing those alterations. The records of meetings
held to discuss those matters are, however, still extant in
the handwriting of Mr. McConnel and Mr. Mowbray. Whilst
awaiting the completion of the new building, the Rev. Thomas
Mowbray conducted service at such times and places as could be
made convenient, though his lack of health prevented him from
acting continuously.
On the 25th May 1851, he had the privilege
of opening the first Presbyterian church in Queensland. The
energy of the young congregation had at this time attracted
attention in Sydney, and the Rev. A. Salmon, moderator, paid a
visit to Brisbane. As a result a call was given to the Rev.
John Tait, of Parramatta, but that gentleman declined. Failing
for the time being to secure a minister, an attempt was then
made to secure a catechist, and the services of Mr. John Scott
were obtained. That gentleman conducted a school in the church
building during the week, and held service on Sundays. He was
eventually employed by the Qld Education Department for many
years, and had charge of the Ipswich Central State School. Mr.
Scott, now and for many years Under Secretary to the
Department of Public Lands, is a son of this early worker in
the cause of education and religion. It should be mentioned
here that the first education committee appointed to assist
Mr. John Scott, consisted of the Rev. Mr. McLeod, Messrs.
Raff, Gray, Edmonstone and McConnel.
Meanwhile
the Rev. Mr. Salmon, as Moderator of Eastern Australia, had
been kept fully alive to the needs of Queensland in the matter
of clergy, and he opened up communications with Scotland,
which resulted in the Rev. Walter Ross McLeod, a minister of
the Free Church being sent out to the Grey Street Church.
Mr. McLeod was quite young. Mr. McLeod was the first
minister to have actual charge of a congregation of Queensland
Presbyterians. He arrived in August 1852 was publicly welcomed
at the North Brisbane Courthouse on the 28th August
1852 and preached his first sermon on the following Sunday.
Ill-health limited Mr. McLeod’s term to some sixteen
months, for in November 1853, he was compelled to resign.
During Mr. McLeod’s time it became necessary for him to
conduct services on the north side as well as on the south
side. A number of his parishioners resided there, and found it
most inconvenient to cross the river by the inadequate means
then in existence. The north side services were at that time
usually held in the old School of Arts, at the corner of Queen
and Creek Street. It may be mentioned in passing that a sister
of the Rev. McLeod also came to reside in Queensland, and was
eventually married to Mr. D. C. McConnel.
For a year
after Mr. McLeod’s retirement, the church was left without a
pastor in charge, though it is understood that the Rev. T.
Mowbray helped him during that period. In December 1853, the
Rev. Alexander Waters Sinclair, of the Free Church, visited
Brisbane, and availed himself of the opportunity of conducting
service at Grey Street. Mr. Sinclair evidently won the hearts
of his hearers, as he soon afterwards received a formal call
to the charge which he accepted. There is evidence that he
entered upon his work with considerable vigour, the
congregation being properly organised, and a kirk session and
deacon’s court formed. The first elders were the Rev. T.
Mowbray, Messrs W. Pettigrew, John Scott and Craies. The first
deacons were Messrs Caldwell, McIntyre and McKergow. Now that
everything was properly constituted, the original church
committee was allowed to lapse.
Shortly
after Mr. Sinclair’s arrival an application was made to the
Government to acquire by purchase three allotments of land in
Ann Street, North Brisbane.
These allotments were secured for the sum of £194. The
purchase of a site on the Northside of the river was rendered
necessary by the growing importance of that part of the city,
which even in the early 1850s, was giving evidence that it
would become the main centre.
It was the evident intention of some at least of the
church members to make Ann Street the principal church, as it
was decided that the manse should be erected there. A building
fund was accordingly started, and it is evidence of practical
Christianity that in the first fourteen days, no less a sum
than £321 was subscribed. The erection of the manse was first
proceeded with, and before the year was out, Mr. Sinclair was
in occupation of his new home.
He resigned the pastorate in 1856, and was succeeded by
the Rev. Charles Ogg, who came here from Illawarra, New South
Wales. The new pastor appears to have been disposed to regard
the Northside as the most suitable for the church, and at a
meeting held in October, 1856, the advisableness of securing a
further piece of land in Ann Street, from the Government, and
located opposite the manse, was considered. This question was
referred to a meeting of the congregation, but apparently
nothing further was ever done in the matter of securing that
extended area.
Feeling ran high between the north and south side
adherents, and Mr. Ogg began to confine his services to the
School of Arts, North Brisbane. A start was shortly afterwards
made with the erection of the Ann Street church, and a
committee, consisting of Messrs. Boyland, Pettigrew and G.
Raff, finally arranged conditions of severance. By this
arrangement the South Brisbane Presbyterians took over the
Grey Street Church, paying the sum of £150 to the North
Brisbane Church, and relinquishing all interest in the Ann
Street property, and handing over to the latter party the
Session Records and Communion vessels.
The path
of the two congregations thenceforward became distinct. The
history of Ann Street will be told later, but meanwhile it may
be stated that the Rev. Charles Ogg continued to minister to
its members, leaving Grey Street to its own resources. The
pulpit there was “supplied” for some years, as occasion
offered, the Rev. T. Mowbray again helping as health
permitted, and assistance being given by the Rev. J.
Kingsford, and others.
It was not until 1863 that the pulpit was again
regularly filled, this time by the Rev. John Wilson.
This gentleman was a minister of the Irish Presbyterian
Church, and came to Queensland from County Mayo. For three
years, Mr. Wilson did splendid work in that first Queensland
Presbyterian Church building, but his health was poor from the
outset, and he had eventually to resign.
He afterwards removed to Ipswich, and died on 18th
December 1871.
Again the Grey Street congregation fell upon unsettled
days, and for a period of four years and some months, they
were without regular ministrations, supply being furnished by
Mr. Ebenezer Hooker, a lay preacher of the Baptist Church.
In February 1871, the Rev. Dr. Alexander Hay, M.A.,
arrived in Brisbane, and in July of that year, he was duly
inducted. Dr. Hay continued in charge until December 1875,
when he accepted a call to Rockhampton, where he still
remains. Dr. Hay has done much notable work for the Church in
Qld, and has written a “Jubilee History of the Presbyterian
Church in Qld,” to which we are indebted for a deal of
assistance in the compilation of this sketch.
The Rev.
D. F. Mitchell succeeded Dr. Hay being inducted in the old
wooden church in April 1876. Mr. Mitchell is still in the
church, full of years and honour.
vvv
THE OLD PIONEERS AND THE BLACKS
by Nut Quad
July 1921
During the year 1857, numerous
outrages were committed by the blacks in and near Brisbane.
At Eagle Farm, Milton, West End, and other places where
farming operations were carried on, they were particularly
troublesome and made frequent incursions to the cultivated
lands of the settlers, removing sweet potatoes, pumpkins etc.
Within the town boundary itself, they caused much
annoyance by demanding from residents bread, tea, sugar,
tobacco, and by fighting amongst themselves when under the
influence of a vile brand of rum, which could easily be
procured. At such times they made pandemonium, for their
shouts and howls could be heard for long distances.
A regulation was in force by which the police were
empowered to drive them out of town at nightfall, but there
were so many of them, and the police were so few in number,
that it was difficult to enforce the regulation.
“Blanket time”- 24 May- was an anxious time for
housewives in the suburbs. for the natives came in from East
and West Moreton, and from more distant places, to receive the
Queen’s Bounty, in the shape of a cheap blanket. They silently
prowled around suburban backyards with their acquisitive
organs in active operation, and quickly snapped up
unconsidered trifles that had been left lying about the
premises.
Men travelling singly on lonely roads were sometimes
stopped and robbed by marauding bands. On one occasion a man
named Hudson was walking to Brisbane from Moggill Creek, and
when near the town, he was surrounded by 40 or 50
blackfellows, who took from him four shillings in silver, and
then allowed him to proceed on his journey. Information was
given to the police and an inspector rode out with one or two
constables. They apprehended one native on suspicion, and
handcuffed him to a tree while they went in pursuit of some of
the others. When they returned to the tree, they found that
the prisoner had escaped.
During this year (1857), the blacks gathered in large
numbers in the Caboolture district, driving off cattle
belonging to the settlers, and afterwards killing them for
food purposes. When the stockmen attempted to recover some of
the animals that had been speared, the natives attacked them
with waddies and spears. Applications were sent to the police
authorities in Brisbane for protection, and now and again a
couple of mounted troopers were sent to the district for a few
days; but this small force was quite insufficient to afford
the necessary protection.
Old residents, who were lads in 1857, will remember the
excitement caused in Brisbane by a shocking double murder
which took place near the Logan in August of that year, when a
German woman named Klumpp and her son- a lad about 14 years of
age- were murdered by a blackfellow named Nelson. Mrs. Klumpp
and her husband were in the employ of Mr. Henderson, of
Tabragalba station. Early one morning, she left the station
with her son and some other Germans to make some purchases in
Brisbane, and to deposit some money in the Government Savings
Bank.
On arrival at the bank, she learned that she could not
obtain as much interest as she expected; she therefore took
the money away with her and accompanied by her son, started
for home. As she did not reach the station when expected,
fears were entertained for her safety, and her husband came to
Brisbane to look for her. The morning she left Brisbane, she
was seen with her son by Dr. Cannan and a man named Woodley,
about three miles from the Logan crossing place, going in the
direction of home. A search was made in the neighbourhood, and
her body was found by her husband in the bed of Sandy Creek,
much mutilated by native dogs. Later on the boy’s body was
found about a quarter of a mile away. From the fact that a
blackfellow named Nelson, who had been employed on Mr. White’s
station near the Logan, had been seen in Brisbane and was
known to have spent money in several places, suspicion was
aroused and the police were instructed to investigate the
matter.
Nelson had been seen by Dr. Cannan on the road near the
spot where he had seen Mrs. Klumpp and her son. Inquiry was
made and it was found that the blackfellow had two days after
Mrs. Klumpp left Brisbane, visited Mr. Kinsela’s store in
Russell Street, South Brisbane, and purchased goods to the
value of over £9. He had inadvertently left on the counter a
purse which was afterwards identified as belonging to the
murdered woman, and in which she had placed her money (£26)
before leaving home.
Nelson subsequently went to another store, and
purchased a pair of Wellington boots, a whip, and a pair of
spurs, and gave a quantity of bread, tobacco, cigars and some
rum to the other blackfellows.
After treating the South Brisbane blacks as stated, he
returned to Mr. White’s station. The police expected he would
do this, and laid their plans accordingly.
They proceeded to the Logan River, but found it was too
deep to cross, so went round by the Teviot road. After going
some distance, they returned to the river to see if they could
find a log lying across the stream upon which they could cross
to the other side. They hobbled their horses, and with their
swags on their shoulders, started for Mr. Henderson’s station.
They reached Jimboomba about 6pm, and after some refreshment,
walked on to Mr. White’s station, arriving there about
midnight. They roused Mr. White from his sleep, and told him
the nature of their errand. That gentleman advised that it
would be unwise to go to the camp that night to arrest the
blackfellow as in the darkness and the confusion that their
presence would cause, Nelson would probably escape. He
suggested that they should wait until morning, when they could
more easily secure him. The police therefore camped in the
stable and, when nelson next morning, ignorant of the presence
of the police, came for his saddle shortly after daylight, he
was at once arrested. He was taken to the spot where the
murdered woman’s body was found, but he denied all knowledge
of the crime.
He was handcuffed and one end of a rope was placed
around his body, while the other end was attached to the
saddle of the horse ridden by one of the troopers.
When the party camped at midday to boil the billy,
Nelson, with a firestick which had been given to him to light
his pipe, managed to partly burn the cord attached to his
body. When later in the afternoon, they reached the Boggo
Scrub (now Fairfield), three miles from town, he dropped a
bundle he was carrying. This caused one of the trooper’s
horses to shy. Taking advantage of this, Nelson made a sudden
dart, broke the partly burned rope, bounded through Mr.
Grimes’ fence into the dense scrub, and although handcuffed,
was out of sight in a few seconds. Every effort was made to
trace him but without success.
Shortly afterwards, a proclamation was issued by the
New South Wales Government, offering £25 reward for the
apprehension and conviction of Nelson for the murder of Mrs.
Klumpp and her son. The proclamation was signed by Captain
Wickham, who then represented in Brisbane the New South Wales
Government. Nelson was never afterwards captured. He was
described as rather a good looking blackfellow, 22 years of
age, five feet seven or eight inches in height, slight build,
spoke English well, and had for some time been driving
bullocks for Mr. White. The constables whose carelessness
permitted Nelson to escape , were subsequently tried before
Mr. Justice Milbord on a charge of misdemeanour and acquitted.
Unfortunately many of the crimes committed by the
blacks in the early days were acts of retribution for outrages
previously perpetrated by white men. The natives strongly
resented the libidinous attentions shown by the white men to
their womenfolk, and the motive for some of the murders is
suggested by the question put by Dundalli, the Bribie
Islander, to the sawyers, Bowler and Waller, at the Pine River
sawpit, “where are the gins?” asked Dundalli; and Bowler said
“we know nothing of them.” Before noon the next day the
sawyers were attacked by a number of blacks and Bowler was
speared in the shoulder and ribs. He was assisted towards Mr.
Griffin’s station by a man named Smith, who had witnessed the
tragedy. Smith came on to Brisbane and reported the matter to
the police who conveyed the injured man in to the Brisbane
Hospital on the site of the present Supreme Court, where he
died four days afterwards. The body of Waller was found in the
scrub four days after the murder.
BYGONE BRISBANE
RECOLLECTIONS OF THE EARLY
SEVENTIES
By H. A. P.
About 50 years ago, the corner of
William Street was occupied by the Registrar General’s Office,
which at that time was a long one story building. The Master
of Titles was Henry Scott, who lived on the Shafston Estate,
Kangaroo Point; Seth Paterson was his deputy. The William
street wing housed the Government Lithographic Office, under
the charge of C. J. Ham, with Mr. Eaton as his assistant. Many
a time (when on an errand to the Audit Office), I stood for a
few minutes watching with much interest the printing of the
old (full face) Queensland stamps from the steel plates that
were engraved by Perkins Bedon and Co., London. These
beautiful productions were replaced about 1879 by a second
issue (small head) a very commonplace design, produced in the
colony. On the northern corner of George Street stood the Bank
of New South Wales (Mr. Archer, manager) an old fashioned
building with a veranda, and a garden that extended some
distance down Queen Street, with banana trees visible above
the fence, and sometimes fruit of the same hanging over the
footpath.
The Trustee’s Building is now on the site of the
garden. Speaking of that bank reminds me of an incident in
connection therewith that took place about the year 1877. The
staff were working back one night, and shortly after a large
roll of notes was missing. The usual search was made, but no
trace of them could be found until some months later, when one
of the clerks marched into the Union Bank at the corner of
Creek Street to open an account with a bundle of notes. The
teller noticed that these had an earthy odour, and becoming
suspicious, he had the prospective customer interviewed, with
the result that the clerk “made a full” confession, saying he
had buried them by the garden. The culprit , who was 27 years
of age, was committed to trial, proved guilty, and sentenced
to 10 years at St. Helena.
Next to the Bank came the “Telegraph” Newspaper office,
then Sewell (optician), who, I believe, was instrumental in
starting English Good Templar Lodges in Brisbane. Chas. Morell
(watchmaker), had a shop here. Then in more or less regular
succession were E and J young (grocers), Voges’ European
Hotel, Clarke (pastrycook), Travers and Schaffer
(cabinetmakers), J. F. Hinton (fruiterer), James Farry,
bootmaker, and a couple of shops used as a store by G. B.
Molle. Geo. Camm’s well-known lolly shop followed, next to
which was Nathaniel Lade (saddler). The latter employed
several apprentices, among whom were George Madgwick, who now
has a place of business on the Fairy Meadows road,
Woollongong, and W. Jackson, who has a saddler’s shop at
Stanthorpe. Watson and Co (booksellers, late W. Gowans), came
next to Lade’s. Mr. Gowans was buried in the old graveyard
behind the gaol, as we used to call that part of Brisbane, and
his tombstone may still be seen alongside the Mortuary Chapel
(now Christ Church) at Milton. When visiting the old burial
ground a few years ago, I was struck with a peculiar epitaph
on an old headstone, which possibly may be on interest to many
of the “Courier” readers. It read as follows:
“Life is a city with many
crooked streets,
Death is a market place where
all the people meet,
If life were merchandise, that
money could buy;
All the rich would live, and all
the poor would die.”
Kosvitz, the jeweller, was next door to Watson’s, then
Lenneberg’s Café de Paris. The “Civet Cat”, a noted toy shop,
faced the archway of the old Supreme Court (by the way, there
seems to be no toy shops now, these and many other
specialities have
practically disappeared, the large departmental stores have
gobbled them up). W. Munro Smith, the bookseller, came next;
Miss Femister’s fancy work repository occupying one side of
his shop. I fancy she was a sister of Mrs. Smith, and they all
came to the colony before Separation, being mentioned in the
jubilee issue of the “Queenslander,” as among the “Fifty
Niners.” Charles Street (draper) had their window frontages
next. He had several daughters, who were fine, stylish-looking
girls, and, as I still remember, were objects of my boyish
admiration.
There were others of the same surname in Brisbane at
the time, though not related to each other. One family lived
near Harris Terrace in George Street, and another
(feather-dyers) near Pettigrew’s, in William Street.
Street, draper, lived on the North Quay not far from
the bridge, and close to the residence of Mr. Kingsmill Shaw,
a business man who was drowned near Dalby, and whose young
widow of about 26, with her four children, returned to Sydney
(her native town), and took up her old profession of teaching
music and singing. I frequently saw her on the Mosman ferry
about 9 in the morning on her way to her rooms in the city.
She eventually went to live with her daughter (Mme. Carrara)
at Milan, Italy, and died there nearly two years ago, at 70
years of age. She had an individuality all her own, and I
easily recognised her, though I had not seen her for more than
40 years. Her husband was superintendent of All Saints Sunday
School for some years prior and until his death, and was a
close friend of the Rev. T. Jones, who for so many years was
the popular incumbent of All Saints’ Church, Wickham Terrace,
the present building and the one it replaced. Emil Gaujard
(afterwards Gaujard and Elsen) who, as was then the custom,
advertised his tobacconist shop by a little statue standing on
the kerbstone, was next, and like his neighbour, Street, was
reputed to be of French nationality. I am afraid I have been
“meandering” from Queen Street, but as one in memory takes a
stroll and becomes reminiscent, it is surprising the number of
old faces that reappear to divert us from our theme.
Near Gaujard’s was a chemist shop kept by Charles
Davies, a quiet mannered benevolent gentleman whose life gave
him his looks, for he was the essence of kindness, and many a
poor woman unable to pay for a doctor lived to bless him for
his gratuitous advice and medicine when the baby was sick.
This was only one of many ways in which he displayed his
generosity.
The kind hearted chemist has gone to his reward these
many years.
Hockings and Son (seedsmen) were on the corner of
Albert Street, their nursery being at the West End, but I
expect it is now covered with cottage homes.
Opposite Hockings was a draper’s shop (R. F. Edward’s
Glasgow House) and next door, D. P. Milne’s Glasgow Boot Mart.
The Grotto, another well-known toy shop, was here, then a lane
leading to the rear of St. Patrick’s Tavern. The latter was a
low one storey structure built of red brick, with an extensive
frontage to the main street, and was one of the old fashioned
buildings standing a little way back from the footpath
alignment, with a front veranda the whole length of the
building (tradition says it was the first place of business
erected in Queen Street).
Next door was Paddy Mayne’s butchery afterwards pulled
down to make way for the British Empire Hotel, under host
Armstrong, formerly lessee of the ferry to the south side.
The north side ferry house was next to J. and G.
Harris’ stores, at the rear of the Immigration Depot. A few
doors lower down was Dickson and Duncan’s auction mart.
Murray, the cabinetmaker, Brabant and Co (merchants), J. and
J. Burns (grocers), John Forsyth (draper) and Lot Randle’s
bookshop. The Oxford Hotel, occupied a little later by T. C.
Moxley, stood in this locality, near which was a jeweller’s
shop, conducted by Mrs. Terry.
Perry Bros, ironmongers, had their original shop in the
block, also W. Potts (tailor) Jesse Sawyer (tobacconist) and
W. Hughes (formerly McKinlay Bros), tea and coffee merchants.
The latter afterwards moved to Sydney and conducted a
similar shop in William Street, Woolloomooloo.
Upstairs, near Forsyth’s, John Watson had a
photographic studio (afterwards Metcalfe and Glaister). He
bought William Gowan’s bookselling business on the death of
the latter. Mr. Watson lived over the water, and I fancy, had
no children, but his aged mother stayed with them. I can
remember him say that he longed to revisit the Old Country,
but would not leave while his mother was living. In the course
of time, she passed away, so the long looked for trip was
planned, and the passage booked for himself and his wife by
the ill-fated Quetta. They went “home,” but not to the
Old Country, and will be seen no more until the sea gives up
its dead. Upstairs from Potts, the tailor, was S. Duesbury’s
photographic parlour; and let me say just here, that having
your “likeness” taken was anything but pleasant operation in
those days. The process took several minutes, during which (to
ensure perfect stillness) the head was held in a metal grip
placed at the back of the chair. The elevation of the machine
was regulated by telescopic action, and the grip itself by
means of a screw process to keep the head in the desired
position, which it easily did.
As soon as the cap was removed from the muzzle of the
camera, a hanging screen at the back of the “patient” was kept
in motion until the picture was taken. There was no dry plate
system nor gaslight printing in those days, the plates had to
be prepared by the wet process and all printings were by
sunlight, so
that if the day was cloudy, printing was postponed; but
Brisbane suffered very little from that trouble unless during
what we called the “wet season,” when it would have rained for
weeks at a stretch. There was not much choice in the size or
style of the photographs, the variety consisting of
carte-de-visite (small size) and cabinet (large size). The
former cost 7 /
6d per dozen, or, if hand coloured, 12 /6d, the latter being
fairly common. Every household had its photographic album,
which was invariably a wedding present, and had spaced for the
small size chiefly, with a few for the cabinet size. Mr.
Duesbury had a branch studio round the corner in Edward Street
under the charge of his son, Horace, who did the hand
colouring for both places. Horace was rather clever at oil
painting but found limited scope for his hobby in the small
population of Brisbane, so migrated to America, where he
eventually died.
The old man did pretty well at his profession, and in
after years he and his good wife returned to England to the
place they came from to end their days in a well earned rest,
but for the climate and other reasons. They returned to
Queensland, where Mr. Duesbury died some years ago. All his
children did well, and a younger son (Frank) became a
clergyman. Some months ago, I read of his passing away in a
private hospital at Woollahra (Sydney).
Speaking
of climate reminds me of a story I heard many years ago about
George Case, who, with his wife, toured the colonies away back
in the 1860s. He was a professional player on the English
concertina (having compiled a tutor for that instrument) and
their entertainments were much appreciated. While in Brisbane,
he bought a home near Breakfast Creek, and, said that of all
the places he had visited, there was no climate to compare
with Brisbane, so they decided when their then (and final)
tour was ended they would return to Brisbane for the remainder
of their days. They were just about finishing up in Canada
when Mrs. Case died, so his plans were upset, and he did not
return.
Next to
Hughes the grocer, was Arthur Martin’s auction mart. When
quite a small boy auction rooms (during a sale) always
fascinated me. Many an idle hour I spent listening to their
persuasive eloquence, and of auctioneers, Arthur Martin was
the “king.”
Across Edward Street the one
storied buildings known as “Refuge Row” took up several
fronts. They were so named from the fact of being the refuge
of several business people after one of the big fires up Queen
Street during the middle 1860s. Matthew Walmsley had a fruit
shop on the corner, Abraham’s store was next, then Jimmy Ah
Ming, who hanged himself from one of the rafters. Adam Young
had a fruit shop in the “Row.”
Mr.
Walmsley was associated with the little church in Ann Street,
near Creek Street, and after he had to move when the “Row” was
demolished to make way for the A.M.P. building about 1880, he
went to Sydney. I stayed with the family in Darlington shortly
afterwards, and we often talked about bygone times in
Brisbane. On one occasion I mentioned that I had often seen
pineapples sold for 6d a dozen in his shop, and Mrs. Walmsley
replied that they were frequently as low as 4d a dozen, and it
was no uncommon sight, when a shipload of immigrants arrived
to see “new chums” walking down Queen Street eating the fruit.
However, to get back to Queen Street, and “Refuge Row,”
Baynes the butcher (afterwards the Co-operative) was next
door, and following on, were Milne and Rorke (cabinetmakers),
who a little later dissolved partnership, each opening on his
own account in different localities. Then came Phillips and
Woodcock (tailors). Mr. Phillips was a leading member of old
St. John’s Church (Rev. J Sutton), while good Tom Woodcock had
a class in All Saint’s Sunday School on Wickham Terrace.
Along
towards Creek Street was a stretch of vacant land, with the
old convict built police lock-up standing back some distance
from the footpath, and about 30 feet higher. that the Queen
Street level. It was at this point that the arch was built
across the street to welcome the Duke of Edinburgh when he
visited Brisbane in 1868 on the Galatea, and at each
end of the arch stood a blackfellow flourishing a boomerang.
Children from the various city schools sat on elevated tiers
of forms, and sang the National Anthem as the Duke passed
under the arch. Shortly before this time the fire bell tower
stood in front of the lock-up.
Izatt and
Mitchell’s sewing machine shop came next, then Francis
Beattie, the hatter, who performed many years of meritorious
service as Superintendent of the Brisbane Volunteer Fire
Brigade (a younger brother Dick, died, in Sydney last August).
There was a drum and fife band attached to the Fire Brigade at
this time, and the instructor was Professor Seal.
Albert
Lomer (photographer) was near by also Knight (picture framer),
and there was an hotel at the corner of Creek Street kept by a
Mr Whitty.
The two storey Commercial Bank of
Pyrmont stone, occupied its present site, then a lot of vacant
land with a drainage area in it. Butler Bros and S. Hoffnung’s
warehouse were the only other places till W. Berkeley’s
chemist shop was reached (afterwards Berkeley and Taylor). Mr.
Berkeley’s assistants were rather fond of practical jokes, and
when quite a lad, I remember being sent there for a
prescription to be madeup. While waiting for it, one of the
young fellows came round with a bottle of something and asked
me to smell it. I fancied I could detect an unpleasant odour,
so I refused to inhale it, but was urged to take a long
“sniff,” with the assurance that it was all right. When I
awoke I was lying on a couch in a back room with several
persons standing by. Evidently I had followed his advice and
taken a long “sniff.” Very soon I was fit to go, and they
bribed me to silence, with a packet full of extra strong
peppermints. I felt a bit “groggy,” for a while, but was
perfectly right by the time I reached home, and the subject
was never referred to until I reached manhood. However, I have
never eaten peppermints since without fancying that they have
an ammonia flavour. The perpetrator of the “joke” later had a
shop of his own on the south side, but, like poor Uncle Ned in
the old Christy Minstrel song, “he is dead and gone long ago.”
VALLEY OF MARROON
Twenty miles south of Boonah and
right under the mountains, lies the fertile and picturesque
valley of Marroon, through which runs Burnett Creek, a
tributary of the Logan.
IN 1827,
Cunningham, in his search for a pass over the mountain barrier
that divided his newly discovered Darling Downs from the
Coast, passed up the valley and delighted in its beauties.
In a few
years the plucky and energetic pioneer squatter followed with
his flocks and herds, reenacting in newer times and climes the
adventurous experiences of the Biblical patriarchs.
According
to old hands, Marroon was taken up by Mr. Collins, the
original holder in the early 1840s. After holding for some
time, Mr. Collins sold it to Mr. T. D. Murray-Prior, who was
followed in its ownership by his son Mr. Thomas Murray-Prior,
who, in turn, was followed by his son, Mr. Herbert
Murray-Prior.
The estate, which consisted of
some 13,000 acres, was surveyed and sold in 1914-1915. The
homestead, with 400 acres of land, was purchased by Mr. J.
Vellicott.
The head
of Burnett Creek is in the Dividing Range near Wilson’s Peak,
and has never been known to go dry. The valley, and
particularly the flats along the creek, were at one time thick
with red cedar. An inspection of the homestead shows that
jerry-building was not a shortcoming of the old time
squatters. Accompanying Mr. Vellicott, the writer was shown
around the building, and noted that the wall and ground plates
consisted of “faced” logs, strong enough for the girders of a
bridge. On these red cedar joists, 4 inch by 3 inch, were
placed not more than 18 inches apart. Even the house blocks
were from 18 inches to 20 inches through. The chimneys were
built of squared freestone brought from the Rathdowney
district.
Before the
sale of Marroon estate, the homestead consisted of four
distinct buildings, forming a quadrangle, and containing 21
rooms, but when the estate was cut up, some of them were sold
for removal and one of them began a new life in the West after
half a century’s service on Marroon. Red cedar surely has a
very long serviceable life. Since Mr. Vellicott has occupied
his holding, he has gone in largely for farming and dairying.
More than 100 acres are under crop. He works a tractor for
ploughing, chaff cutting etc, and is establishing a very good
herd of Illawarras. Before leaving, a visit was paid to a
little cemetery, about a quarter of a mile from the homestead,
where a headstone marks the resting place of James Danvers
Collins who died on March 4, 1856, aged 19 years. Alongside a
marble cross bears the name of Cecil and James Domain, aged 6
and 5 years, who were accidentally drowned on September 23,
1912.
Perhaps
the oldest resident living in the district is Mr. E. G.
(George) Harvey, who went to the district when a child of
three years, 53 years ago., and now lives on the farm selected
by his father Israel Harvey.
The
Harveys had sheep on their selection in the early days, when
the blacks used to do the shepherding, but as the sheep
wandered into the station paddocks so often they were
considered a nuisance by the station owner and eventually they
gave place to cattle.
Marroon
has been closely settled comparatively lately, but the farmers
are a practical and progressive class of men, as may be
instanced by the fact that already Messrs E. Simmich, J.
Slater, and George Cochrane have installed milking machines,
while Messrs. J. Slater, R. Streeton, and J. Vellicott, have
tractors on their farms.
Mr. Will
Newman’s father was one of Daintree’s party in his
explorations of the North, and was in almost every rush from
Stanthorpe in the South to the Palmer in the North. For many
years, Mr. Will. Newman followed droving but some 23 years ago
settled at the foot of Mt. May, where he carries on mixed
farming.
With some
men, a love of the mountains is so great that they go into
some awkward, if picturesque places, to make a home. Following
the foot of Mt. May, one comes to the selection of Mr.
Domgahm, who is a resident of 23 years.
Above him,
and the last on the road, is Mr. Harris, a returned soldier.
An old
Downs family is represented by the brothers Henrichs, who have
farms adjoining each other, and who have done well since
coming here.
Marroon
has a war record probably unexcelled in any other town in
Australia. Forty two young men from Marroon went on active
service, and no fewer than 18 of them were killed in action.
Sir William Birdwood, when unveiling the war memorial in May
1920, commented on the fact when expressing his sympathy with
the bereaved relatives. The memorial is erected in a corner of
the school grounds, and is carefully attended by the children,
who have planted flowers and shrubs in the plot.
The school
of which Mr. A. H. Todd, is in charge, has an average
attendance of 42 children, three below the number which
departmental regulations say entitle the school to an
assistant. The pupils are divided into five classes, so one
can realise that the teacher’s time is fully occupied. The
building was originally a provisional school, erected some 40
years ago by the parents of the district at their own expense
and handed over to the Education Department free.
The
shingled roof in course of time became weather worn, and just
before Christmas, the Department, after numerous requests and
reports, decided to renovate.
The work
consisted of a T wing to the original building and a bare
corrugated iron roof in place of the shingles.
Parents,
who spoke to the “Courier” representative, expressed keen
disappointment, and the opinion that if the building was
inspected by an independent officer of public health, it would
be condemned.
It is
certain that it would not be allowed in the city for a factory
in which 20 adults had to work, but it is considered good
enough by the Department for 40 or more children. The design
of the building is such that it is impossible for the teacher
to keep all his charges under observation, even if he had eyes
in the back of his head.
There is a
very nice School of Arts hall, with stage and library, the
latter containing some 500 well sleected volumes. The
subscribers number 46, which compares very favourably with
larger centres. The stage scenery was painted by a local
farmer, Mr. Fred Cook, who has won competitions at Ipswich and
Brisbane shows.
A new
floor of crow’s ash is just about to replace that put down
some 30 years ago, and over which so many hundreds of miles
have been gyrated to the strains of an accordion. So far jazz
has not invaded the district.
The
telephone line was completed about 15 months ago, after 12
years agitation.
There are
two churches, Church of England and Methodist- ministers
visiting from Boonah.
The
distance from Rathdowney is between 12 and 13 miles, but the
road crosses the river so many timers, and there are so many
interruptions in wet weather, that the longer road to Boonah
is preferred.
A few
patches of cotton were noted during the visit to the district,
but apparently the bountiful season is going to have a bad
effect, as owing to the rain, the bushes are showing a great
wealth of foliage but very few flowers. The acreage has
decreased, as compared to last year, the adiry men contending
that it pays them better to put in a crop that will give cows
feed for the winter even if it fails for grain.
By Thos Mathewson
21 August 1920
One of the first vehicles for the
conveyance of passengers in Queensland was one that was
started between Ipswich and The Swamp (now Toowoomba), at the
beginning of 1857.
Two brothers, by name Harry and
Richard Spring, living at The Swamp, conceived the idea that
such a vehicle making one trip per week each way would prove a
profitable venture. They owned a few head of horses, and possessed limited
finances. However, they managed to secure an old two wheeled
sociable with which to commence. This vehicle was drawn by one
horse in the shafts, and a second one on the offside, attached
to an outrigger arm. The trip each way was to occupy two days.
From Ipswich on the first day’s stage, the resting place was
Gatton.
The writer, at the age of 14
years, in April 1857, took passage by this conveyance from
Ipswich. We started in the early morning from the Red Cow
Hotel, Bell Street. There were four passengers beside the
driver- Mr. and Mrs. Kelk occupied the two seats facing each
other in the hinder part of the trap- and on the front seat
were the driver and betwixt him and me was a young man whose
name I forgot.
We jogged along the old time bush
track and all went well until nearing the summit of the Little
Liverpool Range at about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. We were
trotting along a siding. The driver being on the lower side
failed to see a boulder which caught the near wheel turning
the whole topsy turvy with the wheels spinning in the air. I,
being on the higher end of the driving seat, was thrown quite
a dozen yards down the hill, landing safely on all fours, and
I remember from the corner of my eye catching sight of the
vehicle, as it were, coming down the steep incline after me,
which caused me to spurt a few yards further away.
Mr. and Mrs. Kelk were somewhat
injured, but not seriously enough to prevent their resuming
the journey after repairs had been effected. On examination of
the trap, it was found that one shaft was broken, outrigger
arm bent, and harness greatly damaged. The outlook was not too
bright, as we were then some sixteen miles from Gatton, and at
that time there was no settlement on the road between Bigg’s
Camp (now Grandchester), and Gatton. However, the driver and
the other young man assisted by the suggestions of Mr. Kelk,
and by the aid of saplings and green hide after an hour of
smart work, we were able to resume our forward journey. We
managed to reach Sandy Creek six miles from Gatton, in safety
but the night was becoming so intensely dark that it would be
difficult for the driver to avoid the many stumps which
fringed the unmade track, so it was decided to camp there all
night, even at the expense of losing our evening meal. There
was nothing to do but make the best of it. A huge fire was lit
to do for blankets, and, I think, most got to sleep after an
hour or two, to dream perchance of happier days. Never was
sunrise more welcome than on that following morning. The
writer’s greatest concern, when daylight did appear, was that
his new Panama hat had been fatally singed by the blazing
sticks during the hours of unconscious slumber. We reached the
Gatton Hotel in time for breakfast, and did ample justice to a
splendid meal, and greatly enjoyed host “Cook’s” viands. We
reached the foot of the Main Range about 3pm, where a third
horse, in charge of an attendant, waiting to help us up the
precipitous slopes- reaching the swamp about dusk in the
evening. Thus ended my second trip to what is now the Queen
City of the Downs.
The Mr. and Mrs. Kelk referred to
were proceeding to The Swamp to conduct the fuller education
of the Horton family. At this time the William Horton family
were living in retirement at The Swamp. They owned the “Bull’s
Head” Inn at Drayton, which they conducted both prior and
subsequently to this period, but in 1857 and 1858, it was let
to Captain Witham.
REMINISCENCES OF AN OLD COLONIST
September 11, 1920
Mr. J. J. Lovekin, Wickham
Terrace, writes:
I landed in Melbourne on 21 June
1857, 63 years ago. Melbourne was then a small place, but men
of all nations were there. On the road to Bendigo diggings,
men were passing to and for in all garbs- great batches of
Chinese, with all their paraphernalia for domestic use, trade
and other operations on the diggings, presenting a sight not
easily forgotten. But I saw only a few domesticated
aboriginals among white settlers at that time. Later on I saw
more blacks round Sydney, and many at Shoalhaven, who were
clever horse breakers. Their lubras were good mothers, taking
good care of their children. I was never molested or had any
dealings with any of the blacks in that locality, and they
never asked me for anything. If I gave them anything they
always showed kindness.
I saw many blacks in 1859 on the
Lower Condamine River, some rather tricky, through the
teachings of the white population, but the wildest of them
would do anything I asked them to do such as carrying water or
firewood.
I was once building a squatter’s
house, and took Carlo, an aboriginal, who took his gin and
piccaninny on a dray for 25 miles to the Condamine township.
On the way, Carlo left the dray
frequently and secured opossumns and other game for food. On
reaching the township I asked Carlo if he wanted anything. He
said, “Glass rum.” I asked him if his gin or piccaninny wanted
anything and he said, “No.” Carlo was very good, and minded
the horses for me that night. I was at the township the day
before, and went to the hotel to ask permission to put my
horse in the paddock, and was told I could not do that unless
I stayed at the hotel. I told the publican I was going to stay
at the chief constable’s that night; he said “You can put your
horse in the paddock,” for which I paid 1 /-
Many strange things were done in
the hotels in those days. I saw a man and a team of bullocks,
valued at £180. He also had a cheque for £30 paid to him for
loading from Ipswich. I was informed that he left the hotel in
less than a fortnight with 5 /- and a bottle of rum; the later
being a present from the publican to help him on the road. It
was said that he had sold his team to the publican and shouted
the proceeds of the sale in the hotel.
On our return journey from the
township with a load of Cyprus pine flooring boards, I asked
Carlo if he or his gin or piccaninny wanted anything and he
replied, “No.” On the way back, there were some very deep sand
on the road, and the dray got stuck. I ordered the gin and
piccaninny off the dray, made the horses do their best, and
they pulled the shafts out of the dray, which was a very old
one. I at once detached the harness from the chains, and gave
Carlo his gin and piccaninny one horse, riding the other
myself with the harness, and made tracks for the station,
where we arrived late at night. A bullock dray and team were
sent from the station to fetch the broken dray and load of
boards. The sum of 6d was the whole cost of Carlo’s services
on that occasion.
ROSEWOOD DISTRICT
FARMING, DAIRYING AND COAL
MINING
4 July 1925
The Rosewood District is a fertile
farming and dairying area, peopled by hardworking energetic
men and women, whose prosperity is well deserved.
In addition, the district promises
to be come of importance as a producer of coal, of which
considerable quantities are being mined at present.
Just over 50 years ago, dense
brigalow scrub covered the site of the present town, and
extended north to Lowood. Now only a few isolated clumps of
the beautifully dark green trees remain, the area being
covered with cultivated farms and prosperous dairies.
The shire of Rosewood contains an
area of 246 square miles, and includes the towns of Walloon,
and Grandchester on its east and west boundaries, and Marburg
and Rosevale on the north and south.
In that area, there are 1139 miles
of road for the upkeep of which 1147 ratepayers are taxed,
just within a fraction of a mile of road per ratepayer. In the
light of present day costs of road making, the ratepayers have
a fairly heavy responsibility to keep the roads in anything
like passable order.
The Council, however, of which
Councillors H. Dutney (Chairman), R. Sellars, A. T. Waters, H.
Embrey, G. H. Kingston, P. J. Doonan, J. A. Wells, W. H.
Stokes, J. M. Schuman, and H. Heiner, are members, decided to
advance with the times and recently purchased a motor truck
for the conveyance of road making material.
Taking advantage, also, of an
opportunity afforded, the Council hired from the Main Roads
Board the stone cracker and engine which the Board had been
using in the construction of the Marburg-Frenchton road, to
secure a stock of broken metal to make a solid job of a bad
place near Malabar.
The “Courier” representative, at
the invitation of the Chairman, visited the scene of
operations. The stone- hard blue basalt- is being taken from
the farm of Mr. W. Rohl, who, in the course of cultivating his
land, had gathered the boulders into heaps. The Council pays a
royalty of 8d per ton.
Incidentally, it may be mentioned
that the engine driver, Mr. W. Andrews, takes the greatest
care of it. Every bit of copper and brass is as bright As the
day the engine left the shops.
When the stone is broken by the
cracker, it is elevated in buckets, and discharged into a
revolving trommel and graded.
Forty years ago, breaking that
class by hand cost 3 /- to 3 /6d a yard.
There is a feeling fairly
expressed, that some assistance should be given to country
shires for the making and upkeep of roads, as motor cars and
motor lorries are very severe on road surfaces as compared
with the old and slower travelling horse drawn vehicle or
bullock dray.
As one man explained: “It is the
speed that does the damage, and 90% of cars that use the roads
are not owned in the shire.”
The district is fortunate in
having deposits of basaltic blue metal whether the residue of
a big flow or the independent contribution of several volcanic
foci, would be an interesting study for the geologist.
Certainly the larger portion of the area is sandstone, which
has been disturbed to a very slight degree.
Rosewood is prettily situated at
the base of a low range, which has been cultivated from foot
to crest.
There are some fine business
places and handsome residences, a court house, and school of
arts.
The State School, of which Mr. W.
A. Zerner is head teacher, is attended by 260 pupils. In
addition to the usual school subjects, milk testing is taught,
and every dairy farmer in the district, if he likes to take
the trouble to supply samples, can ascertain the productive
value of each cow in his herd.
Lanefield, 3 miles from Rosewood,
and Calvert, 7 miles distant, send large quantities of “cold”
milk to Brisbane for distribution to householders. The office
of the Cooperative Company is at Lanefield.
Few men have jumped into the front
rank of breeders so quickly as Mr. W. M. Krause, who, in about
four years, has established a herd of I.M.S., some of which
have won at Brisbane, Ipswich and local shows. A silo of 150
tons capacity has enabled him to carry on through the drought
periods, and example and success should be a stimulation to
others.
Mr. A. T. Waters, an old resident
of the district, also has some high class I.M.S. cattle.
At Calvert, Mr. L. H. Paten has a
fine pure bred herd of Ayrshires on his farm, Jayandel. He has
an area of 515 acres, of which 70 are cultivated as feed for
his stock.
Adjoining his up-tp-date bails is
a silo of 150 tons capacity, a guarantee against loss of stock
or reduction in milk flow during dry spells. A sideboard
covered with trophies marks his success in the show ring at
various centres, including the Brisbane National Show.
There are two collieries at
Lanefield and other pits among the hills around Rosewood,
while one is now being opened up at Malabar.
Coal trains run daily from
Rosewood.
So far all seams worked are at
comparatively shallow depths, but steps are now being taken to
put a drill down in order to ascertain what lies beneath the
present seams.
PEEPS AT THE PAST
CHAT WITH PIONEERS
VALLEY IN THE EARLY DAYS
15 August 1925
More than 50 years ago, a pretty
English girl, 23 years of age, stepped ashore from the ship Juliet,
near the site of the old Victoria Bridge. Today she is living,
at 74, in retirement at McLennan Street, Albion, with the
husband whom she married a couple of years after her arrival
in Queensland. In this case, Time has tempered his brutality
and Mrs. A. Hainow still owns more than bare traces of the
prettiness she brought ashore with her other possessions in
Brisbane in 1874.
Mrs. Hainow, before she left
England, was Miss Susannah Richardson. A brother was E. R.
Richardson, a school teacher, whose heart and pocket were
devoted to welfare work. He was instrumental in the migration
of a number of immigrants to Australia, and Miss Richardson
had worked with him before her departure to Queensland. While
on a scientific trip to Tasmania in 1878, he was drowned in a
boating incident.
Some time after the then Miss
Richardson first arrived in Queensland, she accompanied Mrs.
W. Kent as lady’s maid to Jondaryan. Mrs. Kent was the
grand-mother of the present Mrs. W. Kent of that place.
Twelve months afterwards, she was
engaged in the shop of Mr. Halberton, a Toowoomba draper.
While employed there, she met the
man with whom she has since travelled through life’s happiness
and vicissitudes.
On January 22 next, if they are
spared, they will celebrate their golden wedding. They were
married at Trinity Church by the Rev. James Love. Cupid had
dipped his shaft deep into the stream of tears before he
united this couple. Nine of their 12 children are dead.
Mr. Hainow had arrived in
Australia with his parents as a six year old. History does not
record his photograph in the biscuit appeals that were not a
feature of the advertisement pages of those days, but, judging
from his robust appearance when he was interviewed at his home
the other day, he wanted nothing in sturdiness. As a matter of
fact he was a shepherd boy at 10. All of Pan’s artistry that
he may have lacked was fully compensated for by his knowledge
of the technicalities of his calling. As assistant to his
father, who worked as a shepherd on a station near
Goondiwindi, he earned second prize in succession in
competition for the best tended flocks of sheep. Mr. Hainow
only admits it tacitly but the fact that the first prize on
each occasion went to his father was one of those gross
miscarriages of justice that every now and then tend to
destroy our family life. Because a boy is not old enough to
own a latchkey, is that any reason why he should be relegated
to the regions of minor prize money? Tut! Tut!
May be Mr. Hainow and mother
earned the credits for his early achievements in the show
ring. For six years she has been sleeping in a Toowoomba
cemetery, but she had avoided the Grim Reaper for 96 years
before she went there.
Mrs. Hainow says that in her
younger days, in her native country, she was a shearer of
sheep, and those days there was no arbitration court which
could be asked for £3 a hundred.
Mr. and Mrs. Hainow lived at
various times in Brisbane and Toowoomba and Warwick before
they finally settled down in this city. Many years ago, at the
time of the first Brisbane Exhibition, Mr. Hainow was
conducting a grocery business at Fortitude Valley. He and his
wife lived in a house that was redeemed for the construction
of the Brunswick Street Railway Station. They can tell
interesting stories of the transformation that has taken place
in that district. Those were the days when you had to catch a
bus to the city. “If you could get one,” said Mrs. Hainow. And
mention of buses recalls that in 1887, Mr. Hainow set out in
business as a cab proprietor. He was actually engaged in it
for many years, in the course of which he drove most of the
people whose names are associated with the development of the
Queen City of the North. What old timer does not remember him?
In later years, he bought a motor
car, which used to ply for hire. It is one of the family’s
open secrets that he sold it on the earnest solicitations of
his wife. She hated those petrol powered usurpers of Dobbin’s
throne! Who can blame her? She went to Sandgate for her
honeymoon in a cab, and returned in a coach. The present
generation of brides may look askance at aeroplanes fifty
years hence, when they see their grand-daughters off through
showers of rice.
The passage of fifty years leaves
a yawning chasm in a lifetime. But seeing that their
acquaintance with Time was inevitable, Mr. and Mrs. Hainow
evolved a satisfactory philosophy. Their safe arrival at the
port of retirement is an assurance of that. They have little
to say “It was not all smooth going,” were Mrs. Hainow’s last
words to the interviewer. He knew that. He had not forgotten
the nine losses.
MOUNT ABUNDANCE
ONE OF THE OLDEST PASTORAL
PROPERTIES OF THE STATE
By Thos. J. McMahon
21 March 1925
The resumption of some 116 square
miles of
leasehold and 154,000 acres of freehold, comprised in the old
station of Mount Abundance, five miles from Roma, marks an
important progressive step in settling and developing the
resourceful Maranoa district, one of the great western areas
of Queensland.
In 1847, 78 years ago, when
Queensland was part of New South Wales, one of those wonderful
pioneers, Mr. Allan MacPherson, a brave and sturdy Scotsman,
conducted an expedition from his station, Keera, in search of
grazing lands.
One fine summer morning, as he
emerged from his tent, his eyes rested on a scene of pastoral
luxuriance, and he recorded his impressions in his diary in
the following terms:
“Friday, 15th October,
1847. Crossed the Cogoon River (now known as Muckadilla
district) and came to the Eastern Downs facing Mount
Abundance. A glorious prospect! Certainly the most magnificent
country burst upon view that has ever been my lot to see in
the colony of New South Wales, from north to south, east to
west. I was delighted, after all my troubles, to see the
prospect of so splendid a termination, so far as a station, at
all events, was concerned.”
Mr. MacPherson, in an interesting
narrative, went on to say: “I spent two days in surveying the country round
which I propose to take up a sheep and cattle station. I may
say, once for all, that the ‘little farm,’ which I
subsequently claimed as a run, and the claim was duly
recognised by the Government, consisted of 30 miles of
frontage, (and, say, 5 to 10 miles back) of the Cogoon River,
and of 20 miles frontage to the creek I subsequently found out
was called Bunjeyworgorai Creek. The whole run consisted of
about 600 square miles or, say, 400,000 acres, the most
beautiful land that ever sheep’s eyes travelled over.
Beautiful undulating downs, covered with the richest barley
grass, and intersected with creeks and gullies, with just
enough timber on their banks to give the whole appearance that
of a few scores of gentlemen’s parks rolled into one. Such was
my first impression of Mount Abundance.”
Mr. MacPherson’s impressions could
be formed today. Mount Abundance is a striking holding with
rich pastures, and soil, exceedingly well watered. It has been
well improved, due to the enterprise of the owner, the
Scottish Australian Investment Co, and the careful management
of Mr. Boyd Linton.
Mount Abundance today is famous
for its flocks and herds, tens of thousands of the first, and
thousands of the second. Its present area, as given above,
will be distributed, it is expected, between 115 and 120
settlers, and it will be devoted mainly to the cultivation of
wheat, for which its soils are classed as eminently suitable-
fruits, mainly citrus, and grapes, farming, dairying, and
sheep and cattle grazing.
With experienced and enthusiastic
settlers possessing capital, Mount Abundance ultimately should
bring much prosperity to the town of Roma. This, however, can
only be fully realised by generous areas for settlers. If the
Government is parsimonious in this matter and it has had a
lesson in another great station property thrown open in the
last few years, then failure of adequate development is
courted, and Mount Abundance would be much better in the hands
of its present ownership which has made valuable use of it.
The property has the advantage of
a railway to Charleville, the nearest station to the homestead
being Bungeworgorai, which is a little less than a mile from
the homestead.
The homestead is beautifully
situated on a high bank of Bungeworgorai Creek, with a wide
well flagged crossing. A roadway winds up the banks
picturesquely towards the homestead, village like with its
residences, offices, stores, and gardens. The homestead has a
neat and comfortable appearance, and from all points looks out
upon rich country.
The manager’s residence is a long,
low, old style roomy place, with a charming semi-circular
lawn, and a row of fine bottle trees, whose heavy dark trunks
are made bright with flowering shrubs. Across from the
residence is a street of offices, stores, huts, and in the
distance are horse and cattle yards. Mount Abundance is
liberally watered with bores (artesian) wells, gullies, small
creeks, and two important creeks- Bungeworgorai and Bungil.
Bungeworgorai Creek, in some of its reaches, particularly that
near the homestead, is a broad, deep, stream, and in flood
time, it swells to an immense area of water, which would lend
itself to catchment schemes and irrigation.
The history of the early days of
the station is interesting. After Mr. MacPherson had held it
for some ten years, it passed into the hands of Mr. Stephen
Spencer in 1857, and from that time, the property was
consistently improved and thoroughly utilised.
The name, Spencer, is well-known
throughout the Maranoa, and one of Roma’s most energetic
citizens, Mr. T. A. Spencer, is a nephew of Mr. Stephen
Spencer.
Interesting reminiscences of the
early settlement of Mount Abundance have been written by Mrs.
A. McManus, the daughter of Mr. Stephen Spencer, now 81 years
of age, hale and active, and living at Mitchell.
Mr. McManus came to Queensland in
1861, and while occupied with pastoral affairs, spent much
profitable time exploring the West. Mrs. McManus, in a racy
style, portrays the life of the early days, the remoteness of
the station, the various discomforts, the trouble of getting
supplies, and the few mail services. She writes in admiration
of the pluck and perseverance of the pioneers. Her mother and
herself were the first white women of the Maranoa and for the
first few months lived in tents.
The Spencer family consisted of
the father, mother, daughter, 14 years of age, and a son,
David, aged 11. They travelled overland from Keera station, in
New South Wales, a distance of 400 miles, to Mount Abundance,
the part including 13 men droving 1000 cattle and several head
of horses. The journey took months, and what with poor
pastures and scant supplies of water, hardships and delays
were numerous.
Reaching Mount Abundance the first
camp was on the bank of the Bungeworgorai Creek. Eventually
houses, huts and stores were built.
Mrs. and Miss McManus were much
interested in gardening and planted roses and other flowers,
vegetables and fruits, including grapes and figs, and all
thrived, giving evidence of the richness of the soil. A little
later, Mr. Spencer planted wheat, and this grew so
successfully that the enterprising pioneer declared that “some
day, wheat farms would spread for miles over Mount Abundance
lands.” It would seem that this is about to be realised.
Mr. MacPherson records that at the
time of his occupation, the blacks were very troublesome. They
were aggressively unfriendly and treacherous. Reports were
constantly coming to hand of drovers, stockmen and shepherds
being killed, and often their bodies were mutilated in a
shocking manner
Mrs. McManus recollects the large
number of tribes in their wild state, but no harm ever came to
the settlers of Mount Abundance. From the first, Mr. Spencer
treated the blacks kindly but firmly, and warned them off the
homestead so that they had little chance of molesting anyone.
Often Mrs. Spencer and her little
daughter and son were left without protection, but they were
not afraid. “There was too much to be done in the house and in
the garden to be worried or nervous about the blacks,” she
wrote.
One of the greatest hardships was
the remoteness of the station. Few neighbours were within a
radius of 100 miles, and the nearest town, or “civilization,”
as it was termed, was Surat, more than 100 miles away.
PIONEER DAYS
FARMING AT WEST END
LONG FORGOTTEN CRIMES
9 May 1925
The old pioneers, the men who saw
the beginning of things in the State, are getting fewer and
fewer, as the years speed by. They have many recollections of
things which have gone into the irrecoverable past, and which
are of interest to the generation which has grown up amongst
the new things revealed by the past half century.
Such a one is Mr. Dan O’Neill, who
lives on his farm at Thornton, some ten miles up Laidley
Creek. In a chat with the writer, he said he landed with his
parents in 1853, from County Clare, Ireland, and came out in
the ship John Fielding. There was no Brisbane then; it
was Moreton Bay settlement, with little to show what a great
city it was to become.
First Carriage over Spicer’s Gap
“I was between 10 and 11 years of
age at the time,” he went on, and I am now going on for 81.
The first work my family got was with Mr. Coombes, who had a
farm at what is now the West End. I think there is a tannery
on the same spot now. Well, when I was about 14, I joined up
with the Public Works Department, and was under Mr. H. A.
Clinton, the chief engineer being Mr. Robert Austin.
The work was surveying roads and
building bridges, and my particular job was to look after the
horses> I saw most of Southern Queensland during the 14
years that I remained in the Government employ. On one
occasion, the Governor, Sir George Ferguson Bowen, accompanied
by Lady Bowen, went through to Warwick.
The Governor, his aide-de-camp,
and the male members of the party were riding but Lady Bowen
and her maid were in the carriage. Every thing was all right
till they came to the bottom of the range, when the coachman,
becoming afraid for Lady Bowen’s safety, suggested that she
walk up the range.
Mr. Clinton, my boss, was riding
with the party, and looking at me, he says, “Oh, Dan, that
will never do; put your own horses in and drive her ladyship
up.” I did, and that was the first time a carriage was brought
over Spicer’s Gap.
All the wool used to come down
that way by bullock drays, and I see now that they are urging
the making of a road for motor cars. Ah, well, times do
change. They were trying to get a better road from Warwick to
Ipswich even in those days, and on one occasion, I was sent to
look for a track. Starting from the foot of the range, I
crossed Warrill Creek and went towards Mt. Fraser, and got on
the Divide by Warrill Creek and the Bremer River, following
that river down to Ipswich, but that track was no improvement
on the old one.
In those days, Rosevale was owned
by a Mr. Ross, and was managed by Mr. McAndrew. Sheep were on
it, but the country was no good for sheep as they got foot rot
on the wet ground. I got married about that time, my wife, a
Miss Rollins, being born in Ipswich on Christmas night, 1853,
so you see, we both came to the country in the same year.
I started farming at St. Lucia,
but when the land was thrown open at Laidley, selected Summer
Hill, but later sold out, and took up 320 acres I am now at
Thornton. All this land was held by Mort and Laidley, and
formed part of the Franklyn Vale Station.
Murder by Blacks.
“And how were the blacks in those
days?” was the next question.
“The blacks were all right if they
were left alone, but it was dangerous to give them grog, and
worse still to make a promise to them and not keep it.
I remember Peter Glynn and his two
mates, who were timber getting in the Mooloola scrub, rafted
some timber down to Brisbane. They had some blacks with them
and when they returned with their supplies and rations, the
blacks turned on them and tomahawked the three men. Peter’s
two mates were killed outright and Peter was left for dead.
However, he was found and brought into Ipswich where he
recovered from his injuries. Some natives were arrested and
Peter swore to one Norman, as having struck him with the
tomahawk. The black was committed for trial, but before the
trial came off, a judge had to come from New South Wales in
those days for the Circuit Court- poor Peter fell overboard
while taking his place in a little ferry boat that used to run
across from Peter’s Bight, and was drowned. Of Course, there
was no evidence against the blackfellow then, and Captain
Wickham let him go.
I don’t think the store of Nelson,
the blackfellow, has ever been told. I got it from Constable
Sednick, one of the men who arrested him. Nelson was a
stockman and bullock driver working for Mr. White, a squatter
on the Logan who also employed a German and his wife. The poor
woman was going with a cheque to Brisbane, and was murdered in
a patch of scrub on the road, the body being cut in pieces and
hung on the trees. The cheque was cashed at a draper’s named
Peterson in South Brisbane.
When the murder was discovered,
there was of course a regular hue and cry, and when the cheque
came into the bank, suspicion was directed to Nelson.
The Chief Constable was named
Sneed and Sednick told me he sent him and Constable Rock to
arrest Nelson, but gave them no handcuffs to secure him. The
two policemen reached White’s station and arranged that in the
morning, Nelson was to be sent by young White to the harness
room to get a bridle, the two policemen having concealed
themselves behind a door. The plan fell out as arranged.
Nelson entered, and as he did do, Sednick grabbed him by the
hair. After a struggle, Nelson was secured, and prisoners
hands were secured behind his back, and a rope passed through
the tie, one end being held by each trooper. They camped for
dinner, and in some way Nelson got hold of a piece of
firestick. He was careful not to keep abreast of the troopers,
and held the burning end of the stick against the rope, which
bound his hands together. He walked along until the party was
passing through some scrub when he gave a sudden jerk and
disappeared into the scrub.
He was never seen by the police
afterwards, although I believe I met him once on the Warwick
range. He had a crooked arm, and amongst the natives who were
stripping bark was a blackfellow with a crooked arm whose name
was Nelson. He gave me a hand to offside the team I was
driving, and that evening I said to him, “Your name Nelson?”
“Yes,” he replied. “You been work from Mr. White along Logan?”
“No! No!” he declared. But that night he cleared out of the
camp and I never saw him afterwards.
[In the Reminiscences of Mr. R. M.
Collins, there is a note stating that Nelson died in
Beaudesert township some years after his escape from the
police.]
EXPERIENCES OF A STOCK INSPECTOR
By “Pegasus”
9 May 1925
On the opening of the South
Western line to Dirranbandi, this small township became of
some importance, not only as the terminus of the line, but
also because it was the centre of a large and prosperous
pastoral district. The railway station was, however, located a
mile from the old township, so the buildings which were
quickly erected near the railway were called the new town.
Here were twp hotels and in one of these I took up my
quarters.
The beauty of Dirranbandi, so far
as I was concerned, was that it was within easy distance of
several stations with whose owners or managers I was fairly
well acquainted. The nearest station was called Cawildi just
on the other side of the river. Mr. McDougall was manager in
my time.
About 15 miles away was Yamburgan,
the property of the well-known and popular Frank Rutledge,
whose hospitality was known far and wide.
Noondo, the headquarters of the
Australian Pastoral Co., was not far off. This was in my time
a bachelor establishment and was presided over by Mr. Blair,
the chief accountant of the company.
Noondo Station is a beautiful old
house, situated high and dry and out of all danger from flood
waters. A billiard room and a tennis court amply provide for
the amusements of the inmates and their guests. It is needless
to say that my old friend Blair, was as proficient in
billiards and tennis as he whatsoever in keeping the books of
this large and influential company.
Some 25 miles away was Whyenbah,
where The MacPherson was manager in my time. When I first
struck Whyenbah, the MacPhersons were living in the old
station which, judging by appearances, must have been built in
the very early days. Later on, a large and commodious
residence was built nearer the river, and the old house turned
into men’s quarters.
The Embargo
During the time I was at
Dirranbandi, what was known as the border embargo was in full
force, and all fat stock were prohibited from crossing the
border without express permission.
On one occasion I received
telegraphic instructions from Brisbane to seize and take
charge of some five thousand sheep which were travelling to
Dirranbandi, and were believed to be destined for New South
Wales. I at once got my horse, and set out to find them. I was
fortunately told that the sheep would probably follow the
river up for feed. This, as it happened, was what occurred.
After riding for about an hour through the bush, I was jolly
glad to hear the unmistakeable sounds of an approaching mob of
sheep. The sharp bark of a dog and the crack of a stock whip
showed that I was at the end of my quest. I soon came up to
them, and recognised in the drover a man I had met before, so
I fortunately had no trouble, for on showing him my
credentials, he at once gave up charge and consented to take
the sheep to station yards according to my instructions. Here
they were safely lodged for the time being.
SANDGATE FIFTY YEARS AGO
By R. W. S.
12 September 1925
Although we had previously made
occasional one day visits to Sandgate, it was not until April
1876 (40 years ago) that we went there for an extended visit,
while our home in Brisbane was being renovated. The visit,
originally fixed for three months, was extended to five. So
far as my memory serves me, I will attempt to give some idea
of Sandgate at that time.
Of the actual residents of half a
century ago, Mr. W. R. Barfoot (ex-head teacher of the State
school), and perhaps Mr. James Hutchinson, and some members of
the Best, Schmidt, and Webber families are the only ones now
remaining in Sandgate.
There were few houses in Sandgate
then. The first after crossing Cabbage Tree Creek bridge was
Be. Best’s at the corner of what are now known as Braun and
Board Streets (named after two of the early residents). The
next, I think, were the cottages of Isaac Best and John Boe,
nearly opposite the State school and residence.
I do not remember any buildings
along Rainbow Street, which at that time was very swampy in
places, but there may have been a blacksmith’s shop on the
corner opposite the present central railway station.
The police station stood at the
corner now occupied by the Town Hall, but memory does not
recall whether Sergeant Leonard Browne was in charge then, or
whether he came later.
Horsey (the butcher) had a small
shop across the road, and on the slope of the hill towards the
old Baptist Church was his slaughter yard.
At the top of the hill were a
couple of cottages owned by Mrs. Board, and then the Osbourne
Hotel, kept by Barney Phillips. At the back, in Louden Street
(surveyed in 1864 and named after John Loudon, but now
incorrectly called Louden Street), were the Baptists Church,
and, I think, the cottage of Hezekiah Shepherd. The church
bell was swung in the fork of a box tree, just outside the
church fence, and for many years, Hezekiah attended to the
ringing of it.
Across Curlew Street from the
Osbourne Hotel were Cooksley’s brick cottages, a small place
owned by Francis, a bird fancier, and Bay View Terrace, a two
storied brick building divided into five or six flats (as they
would now be called), owned by William Deagon, and rented
furnished to visitors.
Separated from this property by a
lane was the Post Office run by Charlie Slaughter. We called
for our letters as there was no delivery. Cobb’s coach carried
the mails.
Further on were a couple of
cottages owned by William Deagon, and utilised by him in the
same way as Bay View Terrace. I am not sure whether Mr. D. R.
Somerset’s house, on the corner, was then in existence, or
whether it was built later; it was a rather nice and
ornamental building utilised many years afterwards as the
Sandgate branch of the Queensland National Bank.
First Municipal Council Room
Beyond this were the Fischley’s
two cottages and a brick or stone building occupied by an old
couple named Cousley, which had the credit of being the oldest
house in Sandgate, and was said to have contained loopholes in
the walls for the occupiers to fire through in the event of
the blacks attacking them. A large room in this building was
rented in 1880 and occupied for two or three years as the
first Municipal Council meeting room and office.
At the corner of Creek Street was
the newly erected house of Robert Cribb, of Dunmore, Toowong,
occupied by Mr. E. B. Southerden. The land extended to rainbow
Street, and there was a tea-tree swamp in the corner.
Beyond Creek Street was the
Sandgate Hotel, owned and conducted by William Deagon, who, at
that time, had a large area of property in Sandgate.
Going down Creek Street (now known
as Palm Avenue) towards the Creek, an old German named
Carstens lived in what was commonly called Kate Street. He
suffered very much from bronchitis and there was a constant
feud between him and William Deagon over a licensed public
gate which the latter had erected across Creek Street at the
intersection with Kate Street. On one occasion, Carstens
partly demolished the gate with an axe.
Across Creek Street from Carsten’s
place, and running back to Rainbow Street, was a Chinaman’s
garden. At the lower end of Curlew Street, on the bank of
cabbage Tree Creek, was Deagon’s Island, which was under
cultivation, some very fine oats being grown there.
The Upper Esplanade
Returning to the upper esplanade,
George Bott carried on a bakery business just beyond the
Sandgate Hotel, and there were two cottages at the corner near
the present site of the Methodist Church, one of which was
destroyed by fire early one morning.
John McConnell’s large house and
grounds came next (for many years now known as Morven) and I
think that the caretaker’s name was Payne, Archibald Glen
taking over from him shortly afterwards.
W. G. Chancellor’s cottage,
Seacliffe, was standing, and Dr. W. J. Ward had two or three
cottages at the back of it in Kate Street.
Stafford House, the property of
John Hardgrave, was on the opposite side of Kate Street, but
the banyan trees must have been very small then. Beyond Kate
Street lived old Captain Townsend, who was blind, and then
there was a large vacant space on which lantana grew.
Following along Sunday Street, past Swan Street, there was a
small two storied place owned and occupied by people named
Hildebrand (this building was afterwards the property of T. W.
Hanlon).
At the corner of Cotton Street,
William Street (builder) had two or three cottages. Sam and
John Baxter (fishermen) lived close to the creek, where they
kept boats for hire.
At Shorncliffe, Bob Kift had the
Oriental Cottages to let, and down on the flat was a large
waterhole. Between Signal row and Kate Street, I recollect
only one house, which was occupied by Mr. Amos, a clergyman.
The Church of England and courthouse were not then in
existence.
Lower Esplanade
From the corner of Mr. Somerset’s
house, a steep and stony bridle path led to the Lower
Esplanade (now Flinders Parade), and at the foot, on the right
hand side, was an immense cotton tree. There were several of
these trees along the beach at that time. The serious erosion
caused by the action of the sea in later years, which I think
was largely responsible for the disappearance of these trees,
does not seem to have been quite so noticeable then. There
were only two houses on the Lower Esplanade, both owned by the
Rev. B. W. Wilson.
The first was occupied by Mr. Geo
Phillips. Beyond these there was not a house on the Lower
Esplanade. The area between Flinders Parade and Deagon Street,
which is now covered by houses fronting the various avenues,
consisted of large paddocks. Perkins and Griffith streets are
in what used to be the police paddock, which was most scrub
and swamp. On the hill, near the present Roman Catholic
Church, were the remains of what were said to have been police
quarters. There was no roadway formed along the beach, but we
used to walk around to the Pine River, and Mosquito Creek for
picnics.
Dickson’s Rocks were there then,
but were not known by that name. They were Cassim, lived at
the left hand side near supposed by some to be ballast from a
wrecked vessel. In land across the salt marsh, were two large
freshwater lagoons or tea-tree swamp, in what were known as
the Brighton Paddocks, and those were the favourite places for
duck shooting.
Brighton Hotel was in existence,
but was unoccupied, the owner was Captain Townsend. George
Thorn may have been living then on the Bald Hills road, at the
bend above the second lagoon, bit I am doubtful about it, and
think that there were only two persons- Schmidt and Webber-
who were farming between the Brighton Hotel and the third
lagoon.
Russell MacPherson lived at the
back of the racecourse but this is outside the Sandgate
boundary.
The houses to which I have herein
referred, about 50 in number, are all that I can recollect in
existence in the year 1876.
On the afternoon of May 10, 1770, Lieutenant Cook, R.
N., passed along the Eastern Coast of Moreton Bay in His
Majesty’s barque Endeavour, and Cape Moreton was
sighted bearing north by west. The ship was brought to from
8pm until midnight, after which sail was again made, soundings
being taken every half hour as the boat continued northward.
Westward of the vessels track by the land of which
little was seen, and Cook, thinking that the water at Point
Lookout and Cape Moreton was a bay, paid a compliment to the
Earl of Morton of that day by naming it Morton Bay. At a later
date this name was erroneously written “Moreton.”
Near Cook’s home were glass houses and as the peaks
along the coast appeared to resemble these, they were
christened the Glass House Mountains, and the water itself was
named Glass House Bay. This inlet was not examined further for
another 29 years.
In 1799
Matthew Flinders and his brother Samuel were given six week’s
leave of absence from His Majesty’s ship Reliance, of
which they were officers, so that they could explore Glass
House Bay. The sloop Norfolk was placed at their
disposal. On July 14, 1799, the sloop anchored at the eastern
entrance of the bay, along which it went on the following
morning until it anchored near Bribie Island.
The Brig Amity
The passage discovered was named
Pumice Stone Channel. Further along the bay on the western
side, Flinders discovered a cliff which was marked on his
chart as Red Cliff Point.
Anchor was dropped here at
half-past 10 o’clock on the morning of July 17. Time did not
permit an examination being made of the locality; but on his
second visit Flinders took His Majesty’s ship Investigator
to Sandy cape.
On September 1, 1824, the Colonial
brig Amity, which was commanded by Captain Penson set
out from Sydney. On board were Mr John Oxley and Lieutenant
Henry Miller of H. M. 40th Foot. A number of
prisoners of the Crown were also with the party. The Amity
reached Cape Moreton on September 11, 1824, a fact proved by
Oxley’s field book, which now lies in the Mitchell Library in
Sydney.
The following entry was made in
the book:
“With the concurrence and
approvation of Lieutenant Miller, Commandant of the intended
establishment, I fixed upon a site for the settlement close to
Redcliffe Point, possessing permanent good water close at
hand, good soil in the immediate vicinity, fit for most
agricultural purposes well adapted for grazing, with a
sufficiency of useful timber for present purposes. Miller
appeared highly pleased with the situation and with the
favourable prospects of establishing himself and people which
the appearance of the country held out to him.
Tues September 14- fine, pleasant
weather, walked over the ground of the intended new
settlement, fixed upon the most eligible place for the
different public buildings, having preference to contiguity
for water, and the convenience of landing stores and
provisions. The land most eligible for cultivation is on the
north side of the creek, and to the north of the settlement.”
The next day was employed by Oxley
in sketching the coast in the vicinity of the settlement, and
in preparing the boats for a continuation of the survey of the
River Brisbane. In the Survey Office, in Brisbane, there may
be seen the original sketch made by Oxley at Redcliffe, as he
now spelled the name, on September 14, 1824.
For the next fortnight, Oxley was
engaged on the survey of the river, and di not return to
Redcliffe until 10pm on the 28th.
Bush and Mosquitoes
In a report made by Lieutenant
Miller soon after settlement had taken place, it was stated
that Redcliffe was not healthy and it is believed that this
supposed opinion was instigated by a desire of Lieutenant
Miller to leave the place.
It was really the blacks, and not
the climate, which worried Lieutenant Miller. No doubt, too,
the wild bush and the mosquitoes, helped to make life almost
unbearable. It is probable that Redcliffe would have been the
capital of a great state had Miller not been so discontented
with it.
His youngest child, Charles, was
born while he was in Moreton Bay, and his grandson is still
(1925) living in Ballarat. He has a number of excellent
stories which came through his father from his grandmother of
the first settlement in what is subsequently the State of
Queensland.
Brisbane became the chief city,
but it could not filch that honour from it.
Around the mouth of Hayes’ Inlet,
on that portion which is now known as Clontarf, the first
civilian settlement began.
A regular service, even in those
distant days, was maintained between Sandgate and Humpybong,
the sailing boat which made the trip between the two places
being in charge of Mr. Cutts.
The blacks, after settlement had
been removed to Brisbane, called the place “umpie bong,” which
in their language meant dead houses. This is meant to be the
origin of the word Humpybong; and subsequently this title was
given to the whole peninsula. The coastal tribes of the blacks
met there for the bora ceremonies, and there is still a well
defined kipper ring near the North Pine road about three miles
from Redcliffe.
How to Travel to Redcliffe
Holiday Maker’s Guide
There are four means by which
Redcliffe, Woody Point, Clontarf, and Scarborough, may be
reached.
One of these is by excursion
steamers, the Koopa and the Doomba, which
leave Circular Quay, Brisbane, at 9.30am on Tuesdays and
Thursdays, and at 2pm Saturdays. On Sunday at 9.30am for the Koopa
direct to
Redcliffe.
Special cheap excursion fares
apply on Wednesday at 9.30am and on Sundays at 2.30pm.
Returning week days 4pm, Saturdays 4pm, Sundays 6.45pm.
Passengers for Woody Point,
Scarborough, and Clontarf can proceed then by motor cars and
motor buses.
Another means is by train to
Sandgate railway station and thence by motor launch to Woody
Point. The launches, Olivine and Beryl leave
Sandgate jetty.
BYGONE BRISBANE
EARLY 1870S
SPRING HILL MEMORIES
November 28, 1925
By H.A.P.
When revisiting Brisbane after an
absence of 20 years, I noticed that Spring Hill seemed to have
altered less than any other part of the city, and subsequent
visits deepened that impression.
Looking back over a period of 50
years, Parish’s Hotel at the top of Leichhardt Street was
considered the principal landmark on the hill. When I saw it
in 1910, I was surprised that the name, familiar for so many
years had gone, and that it was called “The City View.”
Opposite Parish’s lived Mr. D.’
Arcy. Then came a bootmaker’s shop kept by Sam and Johnny
Mills, well-known and respected residents of the Hill. Sam was
tall and thin, with a billygoat beard. Johnny was the reverse,
being more of a Falstaffian build. There were four brothers,
all big men; one (Bob) was a compositor and superintendent of
the Milton Sunday School. I have forgotten the name of the
fourth. Their aged father lived with the bootmakers in a
cottage adjoining the shop and when he died the four sons
carried him to his grave. The young fellows of the district
patronized that shop, and would often spend an hour or two
chatting with Sam or Johnny as they “pegged away.” Johnny
especially was an intellectual and well read man.
Further along stood the new
Primitive Methodist Church, on the site of Grant’s furniture
shop. All the rest was vacant land as far as Fortescue Street
and right through to Boundary Street.
On the right hand side of the way
were residences between the hotel and Birley Street, and then
nothing more to Upper Edward (now Berry) street.
Destructive Fire
Some years before, Snell’s Bakery
and a few cottages stood there, but about 1865, all these were
burned down by a fire that originated at Snell’s, and the
charred stumps remained for about 10 years. This was Spring
Hill’s most destructive fire.
Speaking of Birley Street reminds
me that at the foot of it- before the street was cut through
the paddock to them (Gregory) Terrace- lived a Mr. Edmund
Morris Lockyer, a Customs Officer.
In 1872 the barque Tyra
arrived from the islands with a shipment of “boys.” The vessel
had very bad weather coming across, and for some reason was
taken over by the authorities, none of the cargo being allowed
to be removed from the vessel.
Mr. Lockyer was taking his turn as
guard one night, and being lonely his wife accompanied him.
They sat in a cabin on deck. He had to go round on a tour of
inspection at regular intervals. As he seemed to be much
longer than usual on one of these tours, his wife grew anxious
and left the cabin to find out the reason. The night was dark
and the deck indifferently lighted.
Hearing a moan, she made for the
direction of the sound, and in doing so, fell down a hatchway,
the cover of which had been left off. It was down this hatch
that her husband had fallen, and she fell on him.
The result of this accident was
that Mr. Lockyer received serious internal injuries from which
he died about a week later.
ON the north east corner of
Fortescue Street was R. Bell’s shop, where one bought
stationery, and valentines as well as smoking requisites. Mr.
bell arrived in the Colony before Separation, and his name and
photo appeared in the Jubilee “Queenslander” as one of the
“fifty-niners.”
Famous Ginger Beer
The short block between Bell’s and
Little Edward Street was taken up with a few cottages, and
business places, the latter comprising Hugall’s Bakery and
that of W. Goeldner, cabinetmaker, except for Charley
O’Brien’s Hotel on the corner.
The next corner was vacant land
until Larry Cusack built his big store on it.
Next came Bob Milne’s draper’s
shop, and Mrs. Brown’s grocery, famous for its penny bottles
of ginger beer, a luxury much appreciated during the summer
months by children with limited pocket money.
Hill, the bootmaker, came next,
then vacant land on the corner of Hope Street.
Returning to the other side, and
continuing from Berry Street (named after the Berry family,
who owned the largest residence, “Richmond Cottage,” in the
street), Captain Burn’s house was on the corner, and Paddy
Walsh, cabman, was next. Monteith, the builder, had a place on
the first corner of Edward Street, where a fruit shop had been
for many years, and on the eastern corner was Rheinold’s,
well-known fruit and vegetable mart, at the back of which was
an orchard, now built on, among the products of which was a
delicious peach known as “China flats.” They are rarely met
with now, and I do not remember ever noticing them in Sydney
shops.
Close on the same side of
Leichhardt Street was Fisher’s night school, which the writer
attended for many months when a small boy. I remember no more
of the places until Wharf Street, on the corner of which stood
Brodies’ Royal Oak Hotel. This was a two storied building with
attic windows. And now, going back to Hope Street, we find the
Sir John Young Hotel on the eastern corner, but like its
fellow at the top of the street, it has had its name changed.
The “Courier” Valued
Next to the hotel was the produce
store of J. J. Lovekin, who was Spring Hill agent for the
“Courier,” and “Queenslander,” the former being a four page
paper except on Saturdays, when it was double the size and
sold at 4d a copy. As the price limited its sale, it was
commonly lent out at 1d an hour to residents in the
neighbourhood.
The “Queenslander” was a 12 page
broad sheet at 6d, and the heading was in Old English type,
like the “Courier” of today.
When the “Queenslander” was
converted into a folio- slightly narrower than its present
shape- it had a pictorial heading illustrating the industries
of the colony, and was machine stitched along the back. I have
vivid recollections of seeing the girls running them off and
clipping them apart. This was at the old office at the corner
of George and Charlotte Streets, and the building was still
there when I visited Brisbane a few years ago. One of the
early Christmas numbers of the improved “Queenslander”
contained the first publication of Brunton Stephen’s clever
poem, “Marsupial Bill.”
About this time, a row two storied
shops was built just beyond Lovekin’s and they were let to
Cusack, grocer, J. Grant, furniture dealer, Hughie Carbery,
grocer, and J. Wilmington, baker, the latter being on the
corner of a lane leading to Miss Wilson’s Girls School. The
lane is still there, but the old red-brick school house has
gone, by being razed to the ground about 20 years ago.
THE BRISBANE COURIER
19 AUGUST 1922
The giving up by the sea of an old wreck at the mouth
of the Nerang River, which has been identified as the Gullen
of Ayr, recalls other disasters which have occurred from
time to time on the coast near Southport, Queensland.
A Spanish galleon is said to be situated in a swamp on
Stradbroke Island and was located by Mr. Matt Hebe during a
dry season. Mr. Heber took away an old anchor and some copper,
which when shown to a Brisbane firm, was said to be of the
very best quality. Later, in company with Mr. J. G. Appel,
M.L.A., he again visited the place, only to find that an
immense swamp enclosed the ship, effectively blocking any
close approach.
As far as the memory of Southport residents extends,
the first which ashore about 1875 opposite the Narrows, about
a mile and a half southwards from the present position of the
Nerang River bar. The Salamander was an iron barge of 200
tons, ketch rigged, and was a Sydney owned vessel. On her last
trip she was sailing with a cargo of maize from the Tweed to
Townsville, where she was caught in a southeasterly gale, and
blown ashore in the night, so suddenly that there was no time
to anchor. No lives were lost, the crew of eight, including
the captain, and the mate, reaching the shore safely through
the surf. There was no salvage, and the corn soon swelled and
burst the decks. Soon the only part visible was the stern,
which remained showing at low water, and then disappear under
the sand.
Some few years afterwards in the late 1870s or early
1880s, an auxiliary paddlewheel steamer of 300 tons, named the
Emma Pious, was blown ashore on the North Spit of Stradbroke.
This boat was on a voyage from the Tweed to the North with a
cargo of 400 bags of corn, and carried two fore and aft sails.
Like the Salamander, she was a Sydney boat, but her fate was
happier, for the cargo was discharged, and she contrived to
get into deep water again. Mr. Rawlins, a Police Magistrate at
Tweed Heads, little dreamed when he ordered his boat to be
brought from Southport, a distance of only 20 miles, that he
was enacting a part in a grim tragedy. W. Harper, “Alf the
Saddler,” as he was called, and three blacks, set out down the
Nerang River, and when on the bar, capsized. The boat came
ashore on Stradbroke, but no trace was ever found of the crew
of five men.
After sailing half round the world, braving storms and
safely passing shoals and reefs innumerable, the Scottish
Prince was taken unawares in a calm, and helplessly carried by
an inshore current on to the mouth of the bar at the spot
where the trees now come to an end on the Peninsula, opposite
the Southport Hotel. One of the Shore Line of vessels, the
Scottish Prince was built in Glasgow, and was a full rigged
barque of 1800 tons. She was sailing from Sydney to Brisbane
with a general cargo. She was built of iron and had iron
masts. The cargo included a large consignment of drapery, of
which several bales of blankets were saved, 500 sewing
machines, and a quantity of galvanized iron. The hull broke up
within a week under the heavy pounding of the surf. Two years
afterwards, the sand had covered everything but the masts, and
they rusted through, joining the ship in its final resting
place.
A wreck which wrung the heart of many an old salt was
that of the Bellenger, built in Australia on the Bellenger
River. A 90 ton ship with a length of 100 feet, or more, and a
beam of 25 feet, and ketch rigged, she was one of the fastest
little boats on the coast. Time after time she won races in
Sydney, and her certificates, by a stroke of irony, were
hanging on the walls of her cabin when she was wrecked. At the
time she had a cargo of cedar, much of which was saved, and
she went ashore at Kuran (Cooran) on Stradbroke Island. Even
then she might have been got off with her shallow draft of 4’
6” but it was left too late, and a heavy sea broke her up. The
Captain and Mate walked to Porpoise Point at the south end of
Stradbroke to notify the authorities and secure assistance.
Far reaching in its disastrous effects on the waters of
Southport and the bay was the loss of the Cambus Wallace,
a barque rigged ship of 800 tons. A valuable cargo of
printer’s paper, oil, and spirits, was lost, or partly so, or
ruined by sea water. There were 4000 cases of whisky and a
quantity of ironmongery. The barque was on a voyage from
Liverpool to Brisbane and Moreton Bay. Five of the crew were
drowned and their bodies washed ashore. A monument was erected
by subscription and a broken spar and part of a wheel were
erected over their grave on the terrace. Swan Bay at this
place makes the distance from the ocean to the Bay very short,
and here lies the tragedy of Southport. The figurehead of the
Cambus Wallace is still standing near the Railway Hotel at
Southport. Mr. Barney Boulton has the nameplate from one of
the cabin doors. A man named Kirk bought the wreck, which by
this time was partly covered with sand and to uncover his
property, he blew up the ship with dynamite. This explosion
caused a big hole.
There followed a big king tide and a heavy gale and the
sea broke through. In a week, the passage was 100 feet wide;
now it is at least three quarters of a mile wide and very
deep. Like the Southport Bar, it is moving northwards and has
almost obliterated Swan Bay. Thus was formed Jumpin Pin, or,
as some aver is correct, Jum Bin Bin Bar.
Formerly about half the waters of Moreton Bay had their
outlet at Southport, and their huge volume kept the inside
waters free of sandbanks. Now that pressure has been in a
large manner relaxed, consequent silting up has been going on
at an alarming rate. To this diversion of bay waters may also
be ascribed the cause of the northerly movement of the Nerang
River entrance.
The bay waters flowing south washed the southern
portion away because they constituted by far the larger
volume. Now that the Nerang River is the larger body of water,
the northside, of course, is being washed away. And if this
movement continues, as it should, it will not be long before
the old wreck just discovered at the mouth of the river is
disclosed to view.
The Mystery was wrecked opposite the test
house, and Browning (one of the coloured hands) placed a peg
to mark the spot.
The Coral Queen was bringing a quantity of
hardwood from the Nerang River, when a strong south-westerly
wind blew her on to the Parrot Rock, near the Southport Pier,
before she reached the sea. The aboriginals, of whom one or
two still live at Southport, say that the recently discovered
wreck was the Gullen, as far as they can remember, and
declare that she is certainly the same as seen by Farrier and
Harper in 1842. She was wrecked at Porpoise Point, the bar
being then in its present position, and was often visited by
the blacks. These natives came to the place on account of the
fresh water mullet in a swamp which then extended inside the
island. The swamp was at least half a mile wide, and had a
fresh water creek running into it. Only the merest trace of it
remains. Southport residents have been confusing the recently
discovered wreck with that of the Coral Queen, which never
reached the sea.
**
By Isobel Hannah
Some of
the theories which have been advanced in connection with the
recently discovered ancient wreck at the south end of
Stradbroke Island are so visionary that, were it not that they
might be now chronicled as facts, they scarcely call for
correction. But when we found such a well-known Brisbane
merchant as the late Mr. George Bond, a member of the firm of
Perry Bros., and one who played so leading a part in the early
settlement and development of Southport, seemingly forgotten,
and referred to as “a man named Bond,” by writers who refer to
events of 70 or 80 years ago in such a self certain way, it is
necessary that some irrefutable facts should be given. These,
while not adding much, if anything to fixing the name or age
of the vessel, yet may throw some light on other matters
mentioned.
The Hon. J. G. Appel, M.L.A., whose knowledge of the
Southport Bar goes back to the year 1876, informs me that its
position in that year was approximately as it is today,
although now it extends to a greater distance to the north. An
examination of the maps of that period will verify this. Mr.
Appel, who sailed these waters as a boy, and has continually
done so since, is a keen observer, and made notes of different
matters of interest as they occurred.
Edward Harper mentioned in one of the contributions on
the subject of the wreck, lived on the Richmond, Tweed and
Nerang rivers, as early as the year 1842. He was known
intimately to Mr. Appel, who compiled from the recollections
and reminiscences of this man one of the most interesting
accounts of the early days of the rivers.
Mr. Apel is emphatic that Harper never mentioned any
other ancient wreck, save that of the Gullen, which he
inspected, nor could he have done so for the simple reason
that in his time, the remains must have been completely
covered, if the approximate position with Mr. Bond’s house is
correctly given.
A great erosion has taken place on the south end of
Stradbroke. Forty six years ago, for nearly a quarter of a
mile from the subsequent site of Mr. Bond’s house, the ground
was grass covered and firm, with full grown banksias trees.
Beyond this extended some 300 to 400 acres of sand dunes and
flats, in the centre of which was a small and fairly deep
fresh water lagoon, and that this must have been there for a
lengthy period was evidenced by the fact that it contained
fresh water mullet. Mr. Appel has not yet had the opportunity
of visiting the wreck, but from the position described, if
correct, it must have been overlaid by the sand which was
grassed and covered with trees immediately to the south of Mr.
Bond’s house.
From the year 1877 to the year 1897 was entered upon
what may be termed a gale period, which culminated in the
latter year in that cyclonic gale named “Mew,” by Mr. Clement
Wragge, the Government Meteorologist.
These gales generally veered to the north, with the
result that the long spit from the north head of the Nerang
was gradually eroded.
In the year 1887, when the Scottish Prince was wrecked,
this spit had worked back to within half a mile of the present
timber line. Three days after she was wrecked, the vessel,
with her sails still hanging in brails, had the appearance of
sailing directly towards the center of the original Pacific
Hotel building. Those gales continued periodically accompanied
by flood, and the erosion became more rapid until the year
1897 when it reached its limit at the present timber line.
A further reference to old maps will show that the late
Richard Gardiner, one of the pioneers of Southport, had a
lease of five acres of land then situated in the scrub of the
South Head. Today that block is approximately between the
flagpoles erected on the beach, and the timber line. Gardiner,
who was an old seafaring man, had a little inn, the first
Southport Hotel, on his selection adjoining the township
reserve.
From here he went out on various occasions as the
voluntary assistant of vessels and crews who came to grief at
Nerang Heads. In 1876 his boat was knocked to pieces in
rendering succour to the cook and engineer of a small vessel
which had been driven among the breakers of the heads, and
abandoned by the master and remainder of the crew in a
situation of utmost peril. In recognition of his bravery and
endurance a public subscription was raised on this occasion to
defray the cost of a new boat for Gardiner.
He did not mention that she was sheathed with muntz or
other metal, but it is quite possible for muntz metal had been
invented 10 years before Harper first saw the wreck in 1842.
Members of the Bond family who were in occupation of
their house during the 1897 gale will probably remember that
it was during this gale that the sea made a breach across the
island immediately to the south of their residence. The theory
advanced that the original passage was at Myer’s Ferry is
quite untenable and all evidences are against it. Hardwood
trees with a diameter of 4 feet, growing in sand, must have
taken centuries to attain that growth. Mr. Appel’s homestead
at that place includes both terrace and river flat lands and
there is not the slightest evidence of a passage to the sea.
These are geological facts, not theories. Members of
the Bond family, who were in occupation of their house, during
the time state that. That the outflow and overflow of what is
known as the Big Swamp- Merrimac and Carrara- had its original
outlet between Nobby and Burleigh Heads, is also apparent to
an amateur. The diversion of this outflow and overflow has had
its effect upon the lower Nerang, as is evident by the lower
course and channel of the river.
Early settlers of the district have mentioned that old
aboriginals have spoken, as a dim memory of the past, that the
mainland had been connected with the island, and why not, when
we remember the breach at Jumpin Pin, where the Bay waters
broke out and not, as some seem to think, the sea in.
In the early forties, Dr. King, writing of Stradbroke,
stated that the southern extremity consisted of a mere sand
spit which ran out for about 12 miles parallel to the
mainland, and afforded an entrance for boats, called the South
Passage, which was occasionally practicable also for steam
navigation.
Did such shipwrights as the late William Barr, or
Captain Winship, live today, the period of the construction of
the vessel at Southport could easily be discovered. Authentic
records prove that it could not have been the Porpoise, which
was wrecked on the night of Wednesday, August 17, 1803, on a
bank named by Flinders, Wreck Reef, which lies about 250 miles
east of Cape Clinton. The place where they landed is described
by that most indefatigable of Australian navigators as a bank
of about 150 fathoms in length by 50 in breadth, the general
elevation being about 3 ft or 4 ft above the level of high
water. The latitude was found to be 22º 57’ south and the
longitude 155º 18’ east.
Porpoise Point, on Stradbroke, is in 27º 57’ south
latitude, 158º 28’ longitude.
In searching for something to make a fire on the night
of landing on Wreck Reef bank, the master of the Porpoise
found a spar and a piece of timber worm eaten and rotten which
was considered by that officer to have been part of the stern
post of a ship of about four hundred tons, and Flinders
thought it might have belonged to the ill fated La Perouse,
for traces of whom he was ever on the lookout.
The Porpoise, by the way, was a Spanish vessel, and
shortly after her launching at Bilboa, was taken as a prize by
the British ship Argo. Her name before capture was the Infanta
Amelia, and she was of the same dimensions as H. M. armed
vessel Porpoise, which was at that period, 1798,
condemned as unseaworthy.
The Infanta Amelia, lying at Portsmouth, new, coppered,
and copper fastened, everything complete and ready for sea,
was recommended by Lieutenant Governor King at the time in
England, as suitable to take the proposed journey to
Australia. The Admiralty therefore had her surveyed and
purchased, renamed the Porpoise, rigged with the spars
and tackle of the Old Porpoise, and commanded and manned by
the officers and crew of the condemned vessel.
The Dirk Hartog theory is also, of course, untenable,
in as much as that intrepid Dutchman visited only the west
coast of Australia, and that in the year 1616, 154 years
before the discovery of Port Jackson. Coupled with the ancient
wreck in the Great Swamp, of which I wrote previously, it
might be possible, it is certainly worthy of enquiry, whether
they were not the ships of La Perouse.
Again it might be the remains of one of those stout old
South Sea whalers which sailed along our shores more than a
hundred years ago. Such a vessel was seen by Flinders to the
southward on the morning of Monday, July 26, 1802, when three
leagues distant from Point Lookout. He at first thought it was
the Lady Nelson, which was accompanying him on the
voyage but afterwards perceived that he was mistaken, and then
concluded the strange vessel was one of two whalers known at
the time to be fishing off the coast.
If the wreck at Stradbroke is such an old vessel, and
how can she be otherwise in such a situation, the remains
should be carefully safeguarded and salved if possible.
Our old history is none too rich to enable us to brush
aside what may prove a most interesting and valuable relic.
**
9 April 1921
Isobel Hannah.
Your issue
of Sat, 26th ultimo, contained very interesting
information from Mr. Thomas Welsby with reference to
Stradbroke Island and also in connection with the wreck of the
ship in the Big Swamp. Is it not a coincidence that by that
day’s post, a letter was received by Mr. Appel from Mr.
Matthew Heeb, the discoverer of the wreck, whose attention had
been drawn to my article?
Mr. Heeb, writing from Esk, under date 21 March,
states: “I was told that there was a letter in the paper-
something about the old wreck on Stradbroke Island, the one I
have spoken to you of years ago. I will be down again that way
shortly and I am going to hunt it up to see what it was built
of. The timbers are of oak, that I know; the planking was
fastened with trunnels, there are the auger holes to show.”
Mr. Welsby is anxious to locate the old wreck, and
there can be no better man to assist than Heeb, from his
knowledge of the island and the approximate location. Mr.
Appel is writing to Heeb, and so far as his time permits, will
assist in the search.
From what I have seen of the swamp, possibly the best
time for search would be at the end of winter, when the water
is at its lowest, and the reeds have been burnt. Mr. Welsby’s
theory that the wreck was carried into the swamp by a great
tidal wave is worthy of investigation, as evidence the great
sea that arose some two years ago is quoted. The cause of this
is ascribed to a subterranean disturbance off the east coast
of Queensland; a great volcanic chasm exists in the sea
bottom, and there is a similar one in the Australian Bight!
About the time mentioned by Mr. Welsby, one particular night,
the sea was calm along the Main Beach, Southport. Suddenly,
between 10 and 11 pm, the sea rose up with a mighty and
tumultuous crash; and during the remainder of the night,
thundered on the beach, causing the land and air to vibrate.
At Mr. Appell’s house, the windows, French lights, and
crockery rattled with the impact of the surf. Of course, as
the disturbance to the sea bottom is further to the north, the
effect was not so great here as at South Passage, and Cape
Moreton.
Those phenomena are worthy of note and record, and Mr.
Welsby is to be commended for his articles upon this and other
subjects.
The rocky bottom that lies off the coast is a little
more distant at the location of Mr. Appell’s homestead, being
approximately 2 to 2¼ miles therefrom, and affords excellent
snapper fishing for Southport fishermen. Many interesting reef
marine growths are washed ashore, coral growth, and deep sea
shells. The force of the wind on this coast is at times very
considerable and vessels going South have been blown many
miles to the north.
In the year 1861, the schooner, Friends, laden
with cedar, left Tweed Heads for Sydney, and was driven by
stress of weather to the south end of Moreton Island where she
became a total wreck, four of her passengers losing their
lives. One of these men, by name William Oliver, had
previously escaped narrow death at the hands of the blacks,
who attacked him and his mate, Charles Keley, as they came out
of their hut one morning at Middle Arm Falls, Tweed River.
Oliver fired his revolver, and a bullet went through an
aboriginal’s cheek, after which the chambers would not
revolve. Though severely wounded, he managed to travel over
the mountains to North Arm, a distance of 10 miles, where four
white men were working, only to lose his life when the Friends
capsized near South Passage.
Keley was knocked down by the blacks as stooping, he
emerged from the door of his humpy. He received a fearful gash
on his head, and was left for dead. He succeeded in getting
their boat five or six miles away, and reached Tweed Heads,
where he eventually recovered, and returned to Sydney, where
he afterwards kept the White Horse Hotel, near the Royal
Hotel, in George Street.
The destruction of the Bellenger, driven
ashore at Jumpin Pin, the Cambus Wallace, and the Salamanda,
wrecked at the South Head of the Nerang are other instances of
loss through stress of the weather.
No doubt, as Mr. Welsby states, there were many
different types of coloured people gathered together at
Currigee in its prosperous days, and many of them intermarried
with the aboriginals, but is it possible to say that this
accounts completely for the different type of skin types. When
at Darnley Island, in Torres Strait, I noticed different types
of islanders there- the explanation given was that survivors
of different wrecks on the Barrier had settled there and
intermixed with the natives. As the natives of Stradbroke were
not cannibals, if there were any survivors of the wreck in the
swamp, may they not have intermarried with the aboriginals?
Edmund Harper, whose residence in the Tweed, Nerang and
Moreton Bay districts dated from 1840, was a neighbour of Mr.
Appel, and being a man of good education and observant,
communicated his knowledge and experience, which he embodied
in a series of notes that are now invaluable.
The late Mr. Tubbs, of Humpybong, and Ernest Bellis,
the latter still living on the Upper Nerang, cut selected
cypress pine piles at Amity in the days of its busy
settlement. These piles were sent to Mackay in North
Queensland, and used for jetty and wharfage purposes. The team
of bullocks used were swum from the mainland to Stradbroke,
and travelled along the island to Amity, possibly the first
team used for the purpose.
Perhaps Mr. Welsby can throw further light upon this.
In those days, save to the timber rafters and odd cutter men,
the channels of the bay were an unknown quantity. There were
no marks and no beacons, and there are not so many in these
civilised days, as under present administration, owing to the
necessity for economy, if a beacon falls down, it is often not
replaced. Since the Treasurer has taken to Bay excursions and
he sees the necessity for it, no doubt this important matter
will be rectified.
The late Captain Collin relates how he conveyed certain
passengers of the Black Ball line Sunda, who arrived
in Moreton Bay in 1863, and whose destination was Nerang, to
that locality. There was no road in those days, so they went
in the little vessel in which he had previously came from
Sydney, accompanied by his wife and children, the Ellen
Collin, of 20 tons burden. The passengers, men, women
and children, numbered 20, and the voyage to Nerang occupied
21 days. Owing to lack of knowledge of the channel, the vessel
became stranded on one of the worst mud banks in Moreton Bay,
on the top of high water, and remained there with its
passengers until the next spring tides- an illustration of
some of the hardships endured by the old pioneers who are so
often descried. Today, an average motor boat can do the trip
in 10 to 12 hours.
May 7, 1921.
Isobel Hannah
My
contribution with reference to the old wreck on Stradbroke
Island seems to have caused widespread interest.
Its existence has been confirmed by several of the old
pioneers in the district. Mr. Charles James, of Bundall, who
was in the employ of the Hon. E. J. Stevens, when that
gentleman succeeded Messrs Wildash and Hutchinson in the
occupancy of the island as a horse and cattle run, spoke of it
as a well-known fact in the late 1870s and early 1880s.
The most notable confirmation came from the widow of
the late Andrew Graham of Southport. Mrs. Graham, on her
mother’s side, is of aboriginal descent, and in her early
years lived with Mr. Appel’s maternal grandmother at the
Nerang river. Her husband, after the death of Richard
Gardiner, succeeded to the position of pilot and light keeper,
and had a knowledge of the Bay, particularly that portion of
it from Amity to Southport, extending back some 60 odd years.
He knew also of the wreck, and found in the vicinity one of
the anchors which must have belonged to the vessel. This
anchor, which was much corroded, and had a wooden stock, was
purchased from Graham by Mr. Fred Fowler, and was brought to
Harper’s near Mr. Appel’s homestead, on Nerang Creek, where it
was seen by him.
Mrs. Graham relates that at that time, there was every
appearance that the ocean beach had been closer to the foot of
the hills and that the vessel had been wrecked originally on
the outer beach at that time. She says that the hills on the
sea side of the locality were destitute of vegetation and the
surface bare of sand. It will thus be seen that Mr. Ernest
Bellis’ statement that the remains were those of “a punt used
to transport cattle,” may be dismissed.
As a timber getter and oxen conductor, that gentleman
may be pardoned for his want of knowledge of the difference
between the remains of a vessel and a punt.
Heeb is both a shipwright and a seaman. Graham was a
seaman. Besides, on no king or spring tides could a punt,
however small, have been floated from Swan Bay to the locality
of the remains.
No cattle were ever shipped to the head of Swan Bay,
which in those days was a shallow sheet of water with flat
silt foreshores. Bold water is an absolute essential for the
purpose.
In 1875, when an attempt was made to yard and ship the
cattle, a yard was erected at the South Hill, which naturally
is the most convenient place for the purpose and is so used
today. Mr. Appel, when holidaying in the bay, saw the yard
immediately after its erection, and recently two, at least, of
the old posts were still standing, and were pointed out to me.
Mr. Appel’s recollection is, of course, from hearsay that the
cattle on the island either belonged to or had been purchased
by Mr. F. Ramsey, who was then one of Brisbane’s leading
butchers. John Cockerill was probably one of the first to have
cattle on the island. A certain number of these cattle were
yarded and removed, but some, as mentioned by Mr. Bellis, were
so wild that to secure their hides they were shot.
After the break took place at Jumpin Pin, a stockyard
was erected at South Spit, at the mouth of Swan Bay, where
there was then bold water. The erosion of the sea has now
rendered this useless. It has been stated that the native
meaning of Jumpin Pin is “Breaking Wave.” Mrs. Graham asserts
that in the dialect of her mother’s people, “Jumpin Pin,”
signified “eating honey with suckers.”
In the old days the tribes used to gather on the
camping ground at Jumpin Pin to eat honey using the suckers of
the breadfruit tree (which they called Wynnum), as a utensil
for shipping up the honey.
In writing of the old residents of Amity, I omitted to
mention a Mr. Birch, who, at one time, I am told, occupied an
official position in the Supreme Court Registry. This
gentleman’s hobby was the taming of snakes of which reptiles
he generally had three or four in his humpy. Mr. Appel has a
keen recollection when a lad, of visiting Mr. Birch’s humpy at
Amity and being warned not to sit in a certain place or to
disturb some papers, Birch explaining that two of his snakes
were sleeping there. Needless to say, Mr. Appel soon
terminated his visit, which was not repeated.
In view of
the development of settlement in the Solomon Islands and the
interests there held by many Queenslanders, it may be of
interest to mention that another old time resident of Amity,
Mr. G. B. Daubeney, in April 1873, (as recorded in “Pugh’s
Almanac”) fitted out a vessel to trade to the Solomon Islands.
But the possibilities of today were not then ripe and
apparently the result was nil. It is also interesting to note
that while Moreton Island was always so called Stradbroke, in
the early years, was the isle of Stradbroke, as evidenced by
the Government Order dated 16 July 1827, which read as
follows:
“His
Excellency the Governor has been pleased to direct that the
island forming the southern boundary of the eastern channel
into Moreton Bay shall be designated the ‘Isle of
Stradbroke,’ in compliment to the Hon. J. H. Rous,
commanding H. M. ship Rainbow, the first ship
of war which entered Moreton Bay. The point of land in the
Isle of Stradbroke, which is intended as the site of a
public establishment (quarantine) opposite Peel’s Island, is
named ‘Dunwich,’ and the anchorage where the Rainbow
lay ‘Rainbow Beach.’ The channel between the Isle of
Stradbroke and Moreton Island is named Rous Channel.
The
Governor has been pleased to name the river recently
discovered at Moreton Bay immediately to the south of the
Bay, the Logan, as a record of His Excellency’s approbation
of the zeal which Captain Logan, the commandant of Moreton
Bay, has evinced in adding to the important discovery made
by Mr. Oxley, the Surveyor General of the river Brisbane in
the year 1823.
By His
Excellency’s command, Alexander McLeay.”
MYSTERIES OF THE SEA
By An Ancient Mariner
Courier 18 December 1921
Sea men have always been called
superstitious, and no doubt, there is plenty of reason for it.
You know, the sea is such a big lonely place, that men can’t
help growing a little morbid, and so perhaps they’re rather
more inclined to fancy things than a man with the bustle of a
town around him. Imagine standing at the wheel of a sailing
ship many miles from land with a great dark sky seeming to
foam an impenetrable cover studded with gleaming eyes over
your head, the sea hissing along the side of the vessel, and
the rigging creaking in the wind. Then when a storm threatens
and the wind commences to rise with a moaning eerie sound,
when the stars fade out and the whole world has turned black
and gloomy, it is unsurprising that a sailor should sometimes
hear voices that never speak, that he should see forms and
faces that never exist? So it is quite possible that from the
thoughts of sea men during such hours as these that many of
the fancies have arisen which have formed congenial material
for fiction, fancies that have become practically matter of
fact traditions with the men who go down to the sea in ships.
What story is better known than that of the old Dutchman,
Vanderdocken, supposed to be ever attempting to round the Cape
of God Hope, yet never succeeding. Many an old sailor will vow
that he or a mate has seen the ancient ship on its never
ending voyage, and will tell you that has always been an ill
omen to the ship from which the Dutchman was sighted. And
there are many other tales of ghost ships and many other
things which sea men regard as being forewarnings of disaster.
Now I cannot lay claim myself to ever having seen the
Flying Dutchman, but in the course of a long life, the best
years of which were spent on the great waters, I have
encountered one or two things that have always remained
mysteries to me.
At the age of 18 years I was an A.B. on the Barque Southwick,
bound from England to South America and India. In my watch was
a young seaman named Lincoln, a native of Sunderland. His bunk
in the forecastle was lower than mine, and on the opposite
side so it was easy to look into his. We left Madras on a
Monday, and on the Wednesday afternoon, was smoking in my
bunk, Lincoln being asleep in his. Presently I turned my head,
and noticed a shadow on the half door of the forecastle,
seeming like a man leaning on the door, and as I gazed, the
shadow seemed to take the likeness of Lincoln.
“Lincoln,” I said, “I thought you were turned in?”
I glanced at his bunk, and there he was, sure enough.
I turned to the figure at the door again, saying, “My
God, who are you?”
The figure looked round the house and at me, and then
vanished, and left me wondering.
The same afternoon, we washed out the lower hold, and
when the watch was changed, Lincoln, the weather being warm,
drew several buckets of water from the sea, and poured them
over his head.
By 8 o’clock that night, he was in a raging fever, and
died at noon on the following Saturday. Perhaps a practical
man may explain that this was all a coincidence. But a tough
old seaman would probably shake his head and growl something
about “warnings.”
The next affair in my life which could be classed as
supernatural happened on land in Australia. I had determined
to take a holiday from the sea for a while, and a mate and I
took a fencing contract a few miles from Wodonga, in Victoria.
One night we knocked off work and left a tree which had been
half cut through still standing. Next day was a bit damp and
blowy, and my mate said, “You get the breakfast ready, and I
will go and finish felling the tree.”
I made some porridge, got everything in readiness for
the meal, and was about to call my mate when I saw him
standing at the doorway.
I said, “It’s all ready, I was just going to call you,”
and I proceeded to pour the porridge into basins, but when I
turned, my mate had gone.
I called several times, but as I got no answer, I set
off to where we had ceased work on the previous night, to find
on arrival that the tree had been blown down, and that a big
limb was lying across the dead body of my mate. Apparently the
tree had been blown down just as he reached it, for the cut
was in the same condition as when we knocked off on the
previous evening.
A third incident. I had shipped on Money Wigram’s new
auxiliary steamship, Norfolk, on her second trip to
Australia. Subsequently we went from Sydney to Shanghai,
Singapore, and Gibraltar, sailing from the latter place for
Bermuda.
On the Wednesday before reaching Bermuda, I was on the
lookout on the upper deck at about 7.30 pm, when I saw a man
standing beside me.
I stepped up to him, saying: “Hullo Pedwell, old man,
what are you doing here? You know nobody is allowed from the
stokehold up here, as we had orders to shift ventilators.”
He seemed to take no notice, and when I spoke again, he
vanished. When I went off duty, I told my mates. I was afraid
that something was going to happen to Pedwell, who was a
greaser in the engine room, but only one took it seriously,
the others laughing at me.
The next afternoon we heard that Pedwell had met with
an accident in the engine room, and on the Friday, the doctor,
the skipper, and the chief engineer, tried to persuade Pedwell
to undergo an operation as the only means of saving his life,
but he would not allow them to operate.
On Saturday, they saw nothing else could be done, so
they gave him an anesthetic and operated. He came out of it
alright, and seemed to be doing well, but he died on the
Sunday morning, just as we dropped anchor.
Another strange incident and one closely concerning me,
happened on the same voyage. After leaving New York, on the
way home, a quartermaster who had backed me up when I told the
story of my having seen Pedwell, came to me one night and told
me that on the previous three nights, he had seen an old
gentleman go up the bridge ladder, look at the standard
compass, look all round the sky as if studying the weather,
and then disappear.
On the previous night, the quartermaster had gone up
the ladder, but as he reached the platform, the figure had
vanished. I went with the quartermaster next evening, but
nothing happened.
The description he gave me, however, was that of a man
exactly resembling my father, and I said “My father is getting
old and may be in his last illness.”
We arrived in London a few days afterwards, and I then
received a telegram calling me home immediately.
When I reached home, I found my father was dying, and
he passed away in his sleep a few days later.
All these are true stories.
OLD RIVER STEAMERS
APRIL 15, 1920
The “Settler” and the “Ipswich”
and other vessels.
I note my
old friend, W. J. Morley, has been writing about the early
river steamers. He mentioned in his letter that the “Settler”
was cut in halves. I think he is mistaken in this. So far as
my memory serves, the “Settler” “settled” at Bulimba
ferry. The vessel he refers to as being cut in halves was the
“Canaipa” and the other half was called the “Barotta,”
lately owned by Burns, Philp, and Co., Townsville.
The “Settler” was one of the Mississippi type
steamer with a big hog beam running fore and aft. She was
owned by Mr. Miller, and her master was Captain Rooney. There
was another vessel cut in half which was called- probably this
was the one that was in Mr. Morley’s mind- the “Ipswich,”
one half of her being the “Benowa,” and owned by my
father in the 1880s. She sank at the Railway Wharf. The
engineer of the “Ipswich” was, I believe, Mr. F. Shale,
now of the Marine Department.
Another old identity, which can never be forgotten, was
the “Tadorna Rajah,” owned by William Pettigrew, which
used to run to Caboolture and Mooloolah.
Other old vessels were the “Gneering,” screw
vessel, and “Culgoa,” paddle steamer, master Captain
Goodall, and another was the “Kalarra,” master Captain
Gruer; she was lost on the Tweed bar. Vessels, of course, of
more recent date, were the “Charlotte Fenwick,” “Notone,” “President,”
and “Garnet,” the latter vessel pioneering the present
Humpybong traffic, now run by the commodious “Koopa.”
A small
vessel was built in 1883 called the “Redcliffe,” and
she ran from Sandgate to Woody Point. She was very narrow and
most unsuited for the traffic.
My
father, Captain Collin, carried the Ipswich bridge up in the
sailing barge called the “Enterprise.” This may be of
interest to those who take an interest in old river traffic.
By Isobel Hannah
My information with regard to the old stern wheeler, “Settler,”
may be regarded as nearly authentic as possible. Captain
Jackson, the first owner and master, was a personal friend of
my informant’s parents, and a frequent visitor at their house.
My informant, as a child, accompanied his parents frequently
on trips on board the old packet. Though, of course, very
young at the time, he has a vivid recollection of what he
certainly was told was the launching of the vessel, his
parents being invited guests, the captain accompanying them
home afterwards.
Any person with knowledge of a vessel could not but
realise that the “Settler” could never have sailed up
the coast from the Murray. She was really a flat bottomed
sharp nosed punt, though her bilges were rounded, very
shallow, and with very little freeboard. Her engine room was
situated right aft and to give head room the deck was raised.
Above the engine room was the cabin accommodation. The shafts
on each side which revolved the wheel passed through two
longitudinal openings in the tuck. Any, even moderate,
following sea would have flooded and swamped her. The boiler
was placed right forward, and above this on the hurricane
deck, was the wheelhouse. The hull was strengthened by wooden
longitudinal bowed braces, built plank upon plank, similar to
those on the old Breakfast Creek bridge, a portion of which
was re-erected near the Albion Sawmills, where it collapsed a
year or two ago. The “Settler’s engines were high pressure.
She was generally slipped on the bank of the river at
Pinkenba, where logs had been placed at right angles to the
shore, and she was floated on at high water. This will give
some idea of her shallow draft, as she had to be placed high
enough for operations to be carried out under her bottom. Her
boilers and furnaces had no protection and any sea taken
aboard would have swamped her and extinguished her fire. So
far as my informant’s memory serves him, the launch took place
somewhere about 1864. If she was sailed from the Murray, then
her hurricane deck and machinery must have been fitted in
Brisbane, for as a steamer, she never could have made the
voyage.
The “Experiment”
– this steamer started from North Brisbane, on
her experimental trip to Ipswich, on Wednesday morning last.
Mr. Pearce, the owner and a select party on board, were warmly
greeted as they passed up the river, by a large concourse of
spectators, who had assembled to witness her departure.
Owing to the imperfect knowledge of the person acting
as her pilot, respecting the river flats, she got aground near
the crossing place at Woogaroo, and was detained until
daylight.
The following morning, she proceeded on her voyage, and
reached her destination at one o’clock.
The Ipswich folk were quite delighted at her appearance
amongst them and expressed their satisfaction by giving a
hearty reception to Mr. Pearce and all on board.
Since the advertisement, which appears on our first
page, was in type, we have learned that the charge for freight
of goods is fixed at six shillings instead of seven shillings
a and also that he will not
commence plying between the two townships until Tuesday next,
the time other departures will be about two hours after the
flow of the tide. Mr. Pearce intends to accommodate parties of
pleasure desirous of visiting the bay, and other favourite
places, with the use of the steamer should it be required for
such a purpose.
There is no doubt that many persons will gladly avail
themselves of the opportunity to take trips down the river
during the summer season. She has excellent accommodation,
consisting of gentlemen’s and ladies cabins, as well as
spacious storage. On Tuesday, Mr. Pearce applied to the
magistrates for a licence for the sale of spirituous liquors
on board which was immediately granted.
OLD COURIER DAYS
Sir, when
writing under this heading it is impossible to check the flood
of thoughts of other days, and the mental impressions of the
“Courier,” and its surroundings cling to one in spite of the
lapse of time and a varying environment.
The “Courier,” was always the first and most
progressive of all Queensland newspapers.
I well remember a brand new set of machinery being
installed. It had been brought out from England and was placed
in position by a Mr. Frazer, who became the “Courier”
engineer. He subsequently lived Enoggera way, and his place
was called Frazer’s Paddock, a name which it holds today
(1922).
The “Courier” building (then in George Street) was
extended by filling in the lane between it and Wyllie’s the
tin-smith. This gave much more room for the machinery and a
larger composing room upstairs.
The stately Bunyas in the “Courier” garden have long
since disappeared, but they were a sight of beauty at one
time. At the eastern end of the garden was a road or vacant
allotment, which led to a house occupied by a Mr. Wright and
his family.
John McLennan lived at the corner. I knew him later
very well at Sandgate, and he ever was to the time of his
death the sport and gentleman I felt him to be in my youthful
days.
I returned to the “Courier” and took up duty as
assistant proof reader at a salary of 30/- a week – a big rise
from 10/- early in 1874. I had previously earned this amount
of pay feeding a sluice box at Stanthorpe in 1872.
I was in trouble, however, for my employers, Thompson
and Hellicar, solicitors, wanted a week’s notice, and the
“Courier” wanted me at once. The difficulty was overcome as
shown in my diary under date 13th May. It reads
“working at Thompson and Hellicars a s well as the ‘Courier’
office, unable to attend to my studies.”