SUNDAY MARCH 15, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
“One fond kiss and then we
One farewell, alas, for
Deep in heart wrong tears
I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans
I’ll wage thee,
Me, -no cheerful twinkle
Dark despair around benights
“Thy day without a cloud
And thou wert lovely to the
As stars that shoot along
Shine brightest as they fall
“Lo! Where this silent
A friend, a wife, a mother
A heart within whose sacred
The peaceful virtues loved
“So softly death succeeded
life in her,
She did but dream of Heaven,
and she was there,
No pains she suffered, nor
expired with guise,
Her soul was whispered out
with God’s still voice.”
An interesting historical character is James Charles Burnett, who died on July 18, 1854, aged 39. He was the oldest surviving son of William Burnett, of “Burnettland,” on the Hunter River, and he entered the service of the Survey Department in Sydney in 1834, when only 15 years of age. In 1842 he was deemed capable of conducting a general examination of the Great Dividing Range, which he followed to the 30th parallel and then came on to Brisbane. He was afterwards engaged on surveys on the Clarence and Richmond, and returned to Moreton Bay and did so much useful and excellent work that he was held in the highest esteem by his department, and by Governor Sir Charles Fitzroy, who requested that his name be given to the Burnett River, and that was done. Burnett had named the Fitzroy River in honor of Sir Charles, who repaid the compliment by requesting that Burnett’s name be given to the famous Burnett River, on which Bundaberg and Gayndah stand today.
Burnett, like most men
in those pioneer days, died at an early age, and was buried in the Church of
England cemetery at Paddington, there being a large funeral at which the Rev.
Robert Creyke officiated.
Shortly after his death, his horses were sold by auctioneer Bulgin, father of the late somewhat eccentric “Lord Bulgin,” well known to Brisbaneites. The sale will show the value of horses at that time. A bay colt sold for £14, a bay horse for £17, a grey colt for £36, a brown draught mare for £43, and grey draught for £35, and a solitary mule for £11.
There was much talk about a tablet to his memory, but so far we have not seen it, unless it is among the fallen and broken stones. The erection of a tablet or small monument to the memory of Burnett would come gracefully from a subscription among the people on the Burnett River.
He was one of the men
who made Queensland history in the old, wild, rough, days, when life was very
different from that of the present.
Arthur Henry Garbutt,
of Stockton-on-Tees, and Jane his wife, recall an old time Garbutt family who
lived at Coorpooroo, where Thomas C. Garbutt owned a large area of land. He was
the man who named Coorpooroo, a word which is sadly mispronounced, being always
called “Coorparoo,” whereas “Coorpooroo Jaggin” was the name of the South
Brisbane tribe of aboriginals, who pronounced the word Coor-poo-roo with accent
on the second syllable.
Garbutt’s widow married
a Dr. Temple, who practiced in Brisbane and died here. After old Garbutt’s
death, his horse and buggy were bought by P. R. Gardon, the genial old
Caledonian, ex-Inspector of Stock. The horse was a dark chestnut, afterwards
owned by Robert Gray, the once well known Under Colonial Secretary, and finally
Railway Commissioner, whose first wife was a daughter of Dr. Dorsey, of Ipswich,
and sister of the wife of the late Sir Joshua Peter Bell. One of Garbutt’s sons,
and brother of the one who died at Cleveland, was squatting for a time on the
Logan. This was the F. O. Garbutt, who in after years held a station property in
the Herberton district, where he finally kept a hotel at the Coolgarra Hot
Springs. He was a big, powerful, specimen of a man. About 25 years ago, he and
the present writer entered what is now the York Hotel. Garbutt had a
misunderstanding with some aggressive person who had several friends present and
while he was engaged in a go-as-you-please combat with the man in front, he was
assailed by two of the man’s friends in the rear. This made it necessary for us
to take prompt action, and Garbutt and “we” cleared that private bar in one of
the shortest times on record. One victim wrote to the “Telegraph,” to ask
whether a Queensland magistrate who had broken two of his ribs in a bar room was
a suitable man to hold a Commission of the Peace? No name was mentioned, but he
referred to “we,” and there was no more about the little episode.
When Garbutt left the
Logan to go north, he was accompanied by Robertson, an old Logan squatter, who
afterwards took up Wyroona station on the Wild River, a tributary of the
Mitchell. Garbutt is now hotel keeper at Mount Molloy.
Paulus Bront was a
German seaman on board the steamer Shamrock, an old time steamer that ran to
Sydney from Brisbane in the days when the small steamers Hawk, Swallow, and
Bremer, built by Taylor Winship, ran from Brisbane to Ipswich. The first was the
Experiment, built by James Canning Pearce.
Winship, in those days,
had a fine garden and orangery, from where the present Palace Hotel is along the
river west to the baths and the North Quay Ferry at South Brisbane. Paulus
Bront, on June 26, 1854, was walking ashore from the steamer on a plank, fell
off, and was drowned, as scores of men have been since then to the present time,
at the Brisbane wharves.
The Swallow, of
Winship, and the Experiment, of Pearce, sank at the wharves in the river, the
Swallow drowning her steward as previously mentioned.
In a Doncaster cemetery
is the following quaint epitaph on two brothers:
“Here lyeth two brothers by
One died of his wounds and
the other was drowned.”
Charles Thomas Clay and
his wife Elizabeth, buried a five years’ old child on July 31, 1872. Clay was a
clerk in the Lands Office in Brisbane, but he got an appointment in the Agent
General’s Office in London and left Queensland.
The second daughter of
Montague Stanley, R.S.A., died on June 24, 1864, aged 22. Stanley, as the
R.S.A., indicates, was a member of the Royal Society of Artists, and practised
his profession in Edinburgh. He was, perhaps, the first professional artist
whose family came to Brisbane, and two of his sons became well known men in
Queensland. One was F. D. G. Stanley, the Government Architect, who designed a
great number of our public buildings, including Parliament House and the Supreme
Court, and the other was for many years Engineer for Railways, connected with
the department from the time the first section of a Queensland railway was made
in 1864, from Ipswich to the Little Liverpool Range, a distance of 21 miles, by
Peto, Brassey and Betts, whose tender was for £86,900, or £4,000 a mile. The
first Victorian railway cost £38,000 per mile, South Australia £28,000, and New
South Wales £40,000.
The Queensland line
from Ipswich to Dalby, crossing the Liverpool and main ranges, cost
Engineer Stanley, son
of artist Stanley, was a capable man, whose integrity was never questioned. The
first Queensland railways were by far the cheapest and most substantial of all
the first Australian tracks, and all constructed since under Stanley or Ballard
have held a deservedly high reputation.
Montague Stanley, the
artist, never came to Queensland! He died at Rothsay, in Scotland, but his sons
came to Queensland, and the mother and the rest of the family followed. H. C.
Stanley, the engineer, has four sons and four daughters one of whom, Pearlie
Stanley, married Victor Drury, the solicitor, now practicing at Dalby.
Architect F. D. G.
Stanley had three sons and four daughters. His son, M. T. Stanley married Mary
McIlwraith, daughter of Sir Thomas, and her sister Jessie married a Mr.
Gostling, now residing at Sherwood. M. T. Stanley is an architect, his brother
Ronald is in the Commissioner for Railways Office. One of H. C. Stanley’s sons,
also H. C., is now in Townsville, and another son, Talbot, is in charge of the
Gayndah extension. A son of F. D. G. Stanley, who died some years ago, is an
Inspector in the Works Office. H. C. Stanley, senior, was recently on a visit to
Brisbane, which he left last Tuesday. He has an office in Sydney and a branch in
A man named George
Perrin, said to be a descendant of that Perrin who fought the heavy weight, bare
handed battle with Johnson, back in the eighteenth century, is buried in the
Church of England cemetery. Perrin was one of the stockmen on Burrandowan, when
that station was held by Philip Friell, and Gordon Sandeman, who bought it from
Stuart Russell, author of the “Genesis of Queensland.”
Friell was a man with a
remarkable history, which would make interesting reading, but would require at
least a chapter for itself. It is
enough here to say that he died of heart disease on board the steamer Argo, off
Cape Horn, on September 17, 1853, aged 48. He was a son of Captain Friell, who
was killed in India, while a captain in the Duke of Wellington’s Own Regiment.
Friell’s life was saved on Burrandowan by George Perrin. Friell was asleep under
a tree, holding the reins of his bridle, and Perrin was lying face downwards
about 20 yards away with his gun beside him. Hearing a slight noise, he raised
his head in time to see a tall black close to Friell, and just poising a
brigalow hand spear to drive through him. Perrin acted promptly, and the black
fell dead with his head within three yards of Friell, who awoke with great
Perrin was one of the
typical bushmen at the dinner given to the Duke of Edinburgh, in Brisbane, in
1868. The ball to the Duke was given in Christopher Newton and Co.’s store, in
Eagle Street. At the dinner the Duke proposed the toast of “The Ladies.” Perrin,
just for fun, dined as he would have dined in a shepherd’s hut. He cut his bread
in his hand, and used his knife as a fork, drank his tea out of the saucer, with
a noise like a cow drinking the last water out of a puddle, and asked a
horrified swell opposite to “Chuck us over the mustard mate!”
Another joker, one of
the Coomera River Brinsteads, saw the humour of the situation, and posed as the
He and Perrin caused a
lot of amusement, and even the Duke had to smile. Perrin died in 1869, and was
buried during heavy rain. Even the grave was half filled with water running down
from the side of the ridge. Some grimly humorous bushman remarked “If some rum
were mixed with that water it would agree better with old George!”
Perrin had married an
immigrant girl, a most cantankerous person, who gave him an awful time, but one
day she was bitten by a black snake and died within an hour. George afterwards
said that the snake died first! In a Devonshire cemetery is the following
“Margery, wife of Gideon
Underneath this stone doth
Nought was she e’er known to
That her husband told her
That would have suited Mrs.
Perrin’s gravestone, also, we grieve to say, a lot of other ladies’
Henry George Morris,
who died in 1865, was a son of the wife of Judge Lutwyche, by her first husband,
whose name was Morris. Harry was a young man of only 25 when he died from the
effects of some gastric trouble, contracted when on a visit to Kedron Brook. A
fall over a stump aggravated the trouble, in fact was supposed to be the fatal
agent, and he died on the following day. His sister, Miss Morris, step-daughter
of Judge Lutwyche, is now the wife of A. G. Vaughan, the well known Government
Judge Lutwyche after
whom the Brisbane suburb was named, invariably treated Miss Morris with all the
consideration he could have given his own daughter and recognised her as such in
Paul Lyons Burke, who
died on August 26, 1868, aged 35, was secretary of the Brisbane Hospital and a
prominent member of the Masonic body, who gave him a Masonic funeral.
MARCH 22, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
Sweet is true love though
given in vain, in vain;
And sweet is Death who puts
an end to pain:
I know not which is sweeter,
no, not I
Love, art thou sweet! Than
bitter death must be;
Love, thou art bitter; sweet
be death to me.
O Love, if death be sweeter,
let me die.
Sweet love, that seems not
made to fade away,
Sweet death that seems to
make us loveless clay.
I know not which is sweeter,
no not I.
I fain would follow love, if
that could be;
I needs must follow death,
who calls for me;
Call and I follow, I follow!
Let me die.
A young man named
Robert Mauley died on February 14, 1855, aged 23. This rather rare name was once
famous among the warriors of a past age. In Scott’s “Lord of the Isles,” is the
following passage, giving some of the English knights who fought under Edward at
“Ross, Montague, and Mauley
And Courtney’s pride and
Names known too well in
At Falkirk, Methven and
Blazed broader yet in after
At Cressy red and fell
It may be that the youth in the Paddington cemetery had some of the blood of those old warrior ancestors.
A man named George
Arthur Smith died on March 24, 1868. Smith came to Victoria in 1861, in a ship
called the Donald Mackay, which on the same trip brought out the late Bishop
Quinn, and Dr. Cani, who afterwards became Bishop of Central Queensland. Also
the well known surveyor P O 'Kelly, of Maryborough, a fine old Irish gentleman,
a boy of the olden time, who arrived there on January 1, 1863, the year in which
no rain fell for ten months, followed by a wet season of four months. George
Smith was a ganger on the railway, when the tunnel was being cut through the
Little Liverpool Range, and afterwards a sub-contractor under John Gibbons, a
contractor who gave his name to “Gibbon’s camp,” known as such for many years on
the Toowoomba railway line.
Gibbons was once
partner with Randall in railway and building contracts in New South Wales and
the well known “Randall’s Terrace” of nine houses in Newtown, in Sydney, bears
Randall’s name as the builder and first owner. House no 9 had the credit of
Smith was injured in a
premature blast on the railway, and was brought to the Brisbane hospital, where
he died, aged 47. John Gibbons had a stone erected over his grave, but it is
amongst those that are smashed. Gibbon’s widow in after years married Detective
Sergeant McGlone, who came from Sydney to Queensland, and arrested Frank
Gardiner, the bushranger, at Apis Creek, on the road to Clermont where he was
living under the name of Christie, and had a small store and butcher’s
An old time honored
Queensland pioneer family are recalled by the graves of John Edmund and William
Alexander, two children of John and Margaret Hardgrave. The first was the third
son, who died on October 30, 1860, aged a year and a half, and the other died 11
days afterwards at the age of five and a half. He was the first son. The late
John Hardgrave was born in Louth, and educated in Dublin. His wife, who survives
him, was a Miss Blair, a very handsome woman, who was born at Ballymeena, in
Ireland, within 50 yards of the house in which General White was born, and after
the death of her parents came to Queensland with her uncle Reed (afterwards
engineer of the steamer Hawk), in 1849, and was married six months afterwards to
John Hardgrave. The young couple at first resided in one of three brick cottages
built up in the convict days as residences for the officials, and situated where
Ned Sheridan’s shop is today, near the Longreach Hotel, where the convict
workshop and lumber yard stood in those old wild days. The soldier’s barracks
were on the corner now occupied by
the Geological Museum. One of the brick cottages was afterwards fixed up as the
first Church of England in what is now Queensland. Mrs. Hardgrave saw that
church opening by the Bishop of Newcastle, she attended there for fifty years
and then saw it pulled down. How many people go to church for 50 years?
She had five sons and
three daughters, including the two boys who died 47 years ago, and one daughter,
Mrs. Campbell, who died recently. John Hardgrave, who died last year, was one of
Brisbane’s best known men, and one of the most respected. At death he was
chairman of the Board of Waterworks, a position he held for many years.
Among the graves is a
son of the Rev. Thomas Jones, a schoolboy, who was a great favourite. On the day
of the funeral the scholars of St. John’s school would not allow the coffin to
be placed on the hearse. They formed relay parties and carried it all the way to
There too, is the son
of John Scott, who was once Chairman of Committees, and lived for many years in
the house at Milton, close to the railway cutting on the north side of the
Near him, in the old
house on the hill, in what was “Walsh’s Paddock”, lived the redoubtable Henry
Walsh, father of the beauteous “Coojee,” and once Speaker of the House. Beyond
Scott, at Auchenflower, lived Sir Thomas McIlwraith, and within 50 yards of the
brewery was “Papa” Pinnock, P.M. When the famous “Steel Rail” discussion was
raging, a railway guard was promptly sacked for calling to the driver to call at
Ann Eliza Young, a girl
of 16, died in 1874. Her father was a Chinese settler who was once a clerk in
the old firm of J. and G. Harris, and afterwards ferryman between North and
South Brisbane from the present Queen’s Wharf at the foot of Russell Street. He
married a woman of good family, her brother having an interest in the firm of R.
Towns and Co. Young was a cook on her father’s station.
One of Young’s sons,
Ernest, was for a time teacher in the South Brisbane school, and another kept a
fish shop for some time in Melbourne Street, near Grey Street. A daughter, Katie
Young, a good looking girl, was for years with a firm of storekeepers in
Boundary Street, then married a son of Benjamin Babbidge, once Mayor of
Brisbane, had two children, and died of typhoid fever. Old Young and his wife
still reside in South Brisbane.
Jane Orr, who died on
March 15, 1863, aged 58, was wife of a Constable Orr of that period, and mother
of three daughters and a son. The daughter Maggie became the wife of Peter
Phillips, the present day tailor, and her sister Jane, who remained single,
still resides in Boundary Street, near Vulture Street. Her sister Phoebe and the
brother died long ago. Constable Orr on one occasion was escorting some
prisoners to Sydney. The steamers in those days called at Newcastle, and while
there it appears that Orr’s vigilance was relaxed long enough to allow the
prisoners to escape, and as a result of that he left the police force.
Very sad was the
drowning of a handsome young fellow who was a nephew of Dr. Simpson, who had
charge of the Government stock at Redbank. The nephew was an only son of Dr.
Simpson’s sister, who was a widow in the old country. The doctor sent for this
nephew to come out and stay with him, intending to make him a present of
“Wolston” of which Dr. Simpson was the first owner. The nephew, who was only 27
years of age, was crossing the river from Wolston to the coal pits, the boat
capsized, and he was drowned. This was a cruel blow to Dr. Simpson, who soon
afterwards sold Wolston to the late Matthew Goggs, and went to England.
A sister of Goggs
married Captain Coley, who was once Sergeant-at-Arms, and died by his own hand
in the small cottage still standing in George Street, near Harris Terrace. One
of his daughters was married to C. B. Dutton, once Minister for Lands.
James Fleming, who died
on March 7, 1872, aged 55, is said to have been the squatter who once held
Burenda station, on the Warrego.
Jane Campbell, who died
on May 22, 1866, aged 29, was the wife of Constable Alexander Campbell, who at
the time was stationed with a detachment of Native Police at Humpybong. Governor
Bowen was there on a visit on the day Mrs. Campbell died.
Rosina Cox, who died on
April 17, 1873, aged 29, was the youngest daughter of Sarah and William Cox. Cox
was a warder in the gaol, and died within the last two years.
Joseph William Saville,
who died on March 5, 1869, aged 36, was a groom employed in Duncan McLennan’s
livery stables, and he was thrown from his horse and killed in George
Richard H. Watson, who
died on May 5, 1868, aged 61, was the builder of the Commercial Hotel, in Edward
Street, and kept a boarding house near there. One of his sons was afterwards the
well-known Watson, the plumber, who became one of the mayors of Brisbane.
Thomas Palmer, who died
on July 12, 1867, aged 60, was one of the two brothers who started a ginger beer
and cordial factory beside the present police court.
From the Palmers the
business passed into the hands of one who was then in their service, the
well-known Marchant of the present day.
Deacon Ferguson was a child of a year and 10 months, and died on September 18,
1865, the mother being a sister of John Petrie, and aunt of the present Toombul
Petrie. She was the wife of the late Inspector of Works, Ferguson, one of the
biggest men in Queensland, and with a heart to match. Among his numerous works
he superintended the erection of the lighthouse on Sandy Cape in 1872, when the
blacks carried all the material and rations from the beach to the top of the
sand hill, 315 feet in height, exactly the same height as the hill on which the
Double Island lighthouse stands. Bob was a giant with a giant’s strength. One
night in Mrs. McGregor’s Hotel in Rockhampton, the same grand old Highland woman
who afterwards kept the Great Northern Hotel in Cooktown, an aggressive
Hibernian gentleman, named Barry, whose brother married Miss McGregor, made
himself unpleasant, and finally sparred up to Ferguson, as a bantam rooster
might spar at a cassowary. Bob rose, quietly grabbed Barry by the neck of the
coat and the northwest cape of his pants, and heaved him head first, not at the
door, but against a thin partition. Barry went through this partition, took half
of it with him, and disappeared! Then Ferguson sat down and ordered drinks for
the company as if nothing had happened.
A man named Harry
Burrows died on March 9, 1862, aged 45. He was working for Crown Lands
Commissioner and Surveyor J. C. Bidwell, when that official was running a marked
tree line from Maryborough to Brisbane. That line went through the present site
of Gympie, and it is certain that Bidwell found gold there 15 years before any
was found by Nash. That was clearly proved in after years by G. W. Dart, who was
one of Bidwell’s party, and who wrote an account of the gold find to one of the
Maryborough papers. Dart saw the gold, and said Bidwell showed it to many of his
friends. Bidwell never finished his track, as severe privations in the scrubs in
wet weather, with poor food, laid the foundations of an illness that killed him,
and he died and was buried at the mouth of Tinana Creek, where can be seen
today, the huge mango trees which Bidwell planted, the first ever grown on
He was the man who sent
specimens of the bunya trees to Kew Gardens, and today that tree bears Bidwell’s
name, “Araucaria Bidwelli,” though the honor should have gone to old Andrew
Petrie, who was certainly the first discoverer, in fact the bunya for a time was
actually called “Pinus Petriana.” Harry Burrows was out with Bidwell in the
worst part of his trip, and had one or two narrow escapes from the blacks He
afterwards worked for Atticus Tooth, and also for J. D. Mactaggart, an old Wide
Bay pioneer who died at Kilkivan, on January 16, 1871, an uncle of the well
known stock and station Mactaggart brothers of Brisbane today. Burrows was away
south in 1854, on the Hunter River, and in a letter written by him in 1861, to
an old Brisbane resident, he said he was in Newcastle when an aboriginal named
Harry Brown was burned to death while intoxicated. This was the “Brown” who was
one of the two blacks with Leichhardt in his second expedition of 1847, when no
one ever returned.
An old resident says
that in the cemetery is a man named George Smith, who died in 1863. He tells us
that this man was once tried for his life on a charge of murder, somewhere on
the Downs. Evidently he means a George Smith, who was one of two men, the other
being John Morris, tried in 1854, for the murder of James Tucker, on Gowrie
Station. Both men were acquitted, as the evidence showed Tucker’s death to be
the result of a drunken row. Two doctors were witnesses, Dr. Buchanan and Dr.
Labatt, and they gave two totally different versions. One swore he saw no wounds
to Tucker’s head, and the other swore he was dreadfully knocked about! There
being nobody to decide when doctors disagree, the evidence went for
Morris had a brother
who was killed at Oxley, on the day Sir Charles Fitzroy, the Governor of New
South Wales, in which Queensland was then included, was on his way to Ipswich,
accompanied by Captain Wickham, the Brisbane P.M., whose name is borne by
Wickham Terrace, the private secretary, Captain Gennys, and police escort. They
had lunch with Dr. Simpson, at Woogaroo, and were met by a big escort from
Ipswich, where the party had supper at Colonel Gray’s house, and there was a
swell ball the next day, and an address was read by R. J. Smith, who was then
M.L.C. in the Sydney Council, representing Wide Bay, Burnett, and the Maranoa.
Picture a man representing those three electorates today!
Morris was riding after
horses, about a mile beyond the Rocky Water Holes at the spot where old Billy
Coote had his mulberry farm in 1876, and his horse ran him against a tree and
killed him, about the time the Governor was passing. His body was brought to
Brisbane in a two horse dray, and buried at Paddington.
The above article
concludes a series of eighteen, specially written for “Truth” by Mr. A Meston,
and there are proofs that they have interested a large circle of readers, and
been a useful education for the younger generation of Queenslanders. Those
articles may be continued on a future date, the interval to be occupied by fresh
subjects, so as to preclude the chance of monotony from too much of one
particular theme – Ed. “Truth.”
I recollect the date of
arrival of the Fiery Star on her first trip, also the name of her captain. I was
present when she arrived, but I made no entries then, although it was a very
important event, considered by us to be so, at any rate. The Fiery Star belonged
to the old Blackall Line, and previous to her being sent here she was trading
between England and America, and was then called the Comet, being christened the
Fiery Star just before being sent to Australia with immigrants.
MARCH 29, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
In accordance with the
promise made in the last issue, “Truth” hereunder publishes a batch of very
interesting letters received from various sources on subjects which have cropped
up in the now concluded “Bygone Brisbane” articles. Once more “Truth” emphasizes
the fact that correspondence of this kind will always be welcomed.
(To the Editor of “Truth,”
Sir,- The Rev. Wilson referred to was R. W. Wilson, not John Wilson.
B. G. Wilson, of Queen
Street, ironmonger, is a son, and the dead image of his dad. B. G. Wilson
arrived in Brisbane in 1858, that is, 50 years ago the latter end of this year.
He preached his first sermon in the old Court House. It was on the site of the
present Town Hall. Mrs. Wilson only died the other day. The stable and loft
referred to are still in existence in York Street, and the house B. G.
I don’t know how the black
was brought into Brisbane, but on his arrival at the lockup he made a final
struggle, and an “up-and-downer” took place under the archway leading to the
lockup. The lockup and Court House were in the old barracks where the Town Hall
now stands. Sam Sneyd was chief constable. There were no police in those days.
They were all constables appointed by the local bench, who had the power of
dismissing them if they did not behave themselves.
I remember in the early
fifties the uniform was changed from blue serge jumpers with red braid to the
bob-tailed coat and stove-pipe hat. What fun we had with the hats. Sneyd was
fond of a joke, but when his stove-pipe was made a football of, it got his
dander up and he gave chase. How Hargreaves, the late Chairman of the Waterworks
Board, would stand at his door in Queen Street and poke fun at him.
But to “our muttons.” When
the black arrived in Brisbane, he was bound hand and foot. A horse dray might
have brought him, but no bullock dray, I am certain, was in Queen Street.
When the case was being heard the next day, Dundahli would cast his eyes round towards the door to see if there was any chance of escape. He suddenly made a leap- result, a mixed lot, the lock-up keeper, who was in the dock with him, constables, chief, and onlookers, all more or less engaged in a sort of tug-of-war, and the black did not try it on again. He was handcuffed and leg-ironed until he was turned off, after partaking of an early breakfast. It would have taken a good man to have put the black through- he was a strong, powerful man without fear.
Sir,- In one of your late
issues, in “Bygone Brisbane,” reference was made to Dundahli. I happen to be
contemporaneous with that part of Brisbane’s history, and knew Mr. Dundahli, who
in the year 1855 (a long time back) was caught through a man named Richards, who
lived out at the scrub at the Three mile. This Richards had a team, and Dundahli
and all the blacks always camped there.
Richards went into town for
rations. He bought a bottle of rum from Geo. McAdam. They put tobacco juice into
the rum and gave it to two blackfellows called Old Croppie and Andy. The blacks
were up there between Wind Mill Hill and Mr. Spence’s place (the stonemason),
and those two blacks took the rum up to them. Dundahli got the first drink out
of it, and half an hour afterwards was sound asleep under a thick lump of
bushes, and Tredenick and Bow, the constable, and Sneyd’s boy helped to catch
The day he was hanged, his
black gin and two picaninnies were a little higher up the hill from where he was
arrested. He sung out: “Baal me Dundahli, me another blackfellow!”
Croppie, the blackfellow,
saved many a person’s life whom Dundahli wanted to kill, as he was the medicine
man amongst the tribe, and what Dundahli was in town this day for was watching
for old Mr. Cash, of the Pine River, to kill him, and take Mrs. Cash away to the
I was with Mrs. Jones when
they surrounded Cash’s place, and Fogarty and another stockman came from John
Griffen’s station and told Cash to look out, for all the blacks were down at the
creek, and Fogarty went as hard as he could to Bald Hills to send the trackers
Mrs. Dick Jones was married
from old Mr. Petrie’s place, and knew all about it. Mrs. Jones died on Gympie
thirty years ago, and old Croppie died about twenty years ago, and old Mr.
McMaster, one of the tribe is on Gympie to this time,
Sir,- Having read your account of “Bygone Brisbane” in “Truth,” I have found that there is a considerable amount of doubt among some of the old pioneers of “Mooloolah” as to the truth of what you stated as to how “Tommy Skyring” met his death. In the first place, Skyring was not the murderer of Stevens, the Government Botanist. The real murdered was Captain Piper. In the second place, Skyring’s death was due to fright, and at the time when he was in gaol he had consumption that bad that he never had the strength to climb on a wall to be shot down by a warder.
The murder of Stevens was
brought about in this way. When traveling as a botanist, Stevens had to get the
services of blacks to act as guides. Stevens engaged Skyring, for which he paid
to Skyring one pound. On passing a store Stevens was seen by Captain Piper and
Johnny Griffen to get change, and the blacks mistook the shillings for
sovereigns. They followed Stevens to this waterhole which you mentioned, and
Piper made a demand for one pound, which Stevens refused. Piper did all in his
power to get that pound, and told the other blacks in their own language that if
he did not give it to him he would kill him. Stevens was boiling the billy, when
Piper went behind him and killed him with Steven’s own tomahawk.
Piper then made the other
blacks help him throw the body in the waterhole, and rolled a big log in on top
of the body to keep it down. Then the blacks found that the unfortunate man had
shillings instead of sovereigns. The three blacks then made for the Blackall,
and after some time Piper told some people about that some wild blacks came over
from Bribie and killed the white man, and put him in the waterhole. Of course
the farmers at Mooloolah went and searched the waterhole with the result that
they found the body as stated above. Piper and Skyring were arrested by the
police who came from Brisbane, having to ride up, there being no railways in
After being arrested the
blacks were taken on board Pettigrew’s boat – which used to trade between
Maroochy Heads and Brisbane – and put down in the hold with handcuffs and
leg-irons on. The police were surprised when a little later the two blacks came
up on deck. Of course they rushed for them, and succeeded in capturing Skyring,
but Piper dived overboard and swam the river, in spite of the fact that the
police were firing bullets at him all the time. On getting ashore a woman named
Smith, or some name like that, helped Piper off with the handcuffs (she herself
being soon after had up for murder).
Piper made for a cave and
hid himself for over six months, the only one knowing of his hiding place at the
time being his gin, who kept him supplied with food and information about the
police. After a time, six months, Piper made his appearance with the blacks,
with the result that he was soon captured again, and getting him to Brisbane he
stood his trial. Being remanded two or three times, his chance came, as between
the remands Tommy Skyring died. Piper and Johnny Griffen then put all the blame
on Tommy Skyring, with the result that they were released.
Piper and Griffen then made
for the Blackall, and called upon a Mrs. Maddocks, and gave the whole history of
the murder. In after years Piper paid them visits from time to time, always
taking good care that Mr. Maddocks was not home, as it was Maddocks who arrested
him the second time single handed.
The above is a true
statement of the murder, as given to me by Mrs. Maddocks herself. It would make
interesting reading for a number of your readers if you could get a fuller
account from Mr. Maddocks himself, who is still a resident of Mooloolah, North
Coast Line. It would be interesting to get Piper’s account of the judge, the
trial, and his own hanging, the police tying him on a horse the second time they
arrested him, with ropes all over him, and so on. Piper was heard to ask the
police: “You thinkum this horsey pig jump?”
Johnny Griffen a little
later captured the bushranger called Johnny Campbell, for which the police or
Government presented him with a boat and a plate of brass to wear around his
neck, and later still he came to Brisbane with the blacks, and camped just on
Kedron Brook where Captain Piper met his death by poisoning with bad rum.
The exact spot where Piper
died is where Mr. Love’s (of Isles, Love) house now stands, about 200 yards past
the Kedron Park Hotel.
The above account may be a
bit rough, but to enter into a fuller account would take a long time –
G. E. L.
Sir, I am sure that A. M.
made a mistake when he says that Surveyor Burnett named the Fitzroy River. The
Fitzroy and Calliope Rivers are in the 1853 maps called the Mackenzie and
Liffey, but were re-named in that year by Governor Fitzroy himself. In 1853 (see
“Bygone Brisbane”) Lady Fitzroy was thrown out of her carriage and killed.
Governor Fitzroy was Vice-Admiral, and in his days of mourning took a trip
north, from Sydney in the Calliope, a 27 gun frigate, and came to Gladstone and
Port Curtis, and did a bit of surveying.
The calliope went up the
river some distance, and the river was then called the Calliope. A boat’s crew
took the Governor through the Narrows into Keppel Bay. The Calliope followed,
going by the sea or outside passage. The Calliope entered the Mackenzie River,
and the launch with a large party, including the Governor, went up the river.
Captain Heath, our late port-master, was an officer on board at the time, and
Captain Feez, the father of A. Feez, of Brisbane, was a guest; also H. E. King,
the Crown Prosecutor, and many others, including myself. The River was then
called the Fitzroy.
F. P. McCabe was the district surveyor. He made the survey of the town of Gladstone and named the rivers running into Port Curtis, the Boyne and Liffey, which names appear in the first land sales maps. He also, in 1855, named Raglan Creek, and Mount Alma – we had just received news of the battle of Alma.
E. P. McCabe was the father
of Major McCabe, who lost his life trying to rescue the Mount Kembla miners. F.
P. McCabe married a Miss Osborne, whose father owned mines and land in the
Illawarra district. He was the only surveyor employed by the New South Wales
Government north of the Wide Bay district. All the trigonometrical stations were
named by him. His camps were three times stuck up by the blacks, two men being
speared – one was pinned to the tent – and McCabe was nearly drowned at Raglan
Creek when it was in flood.
I have one of the old maps
with the Mackenzie River shown on it, and Messrs. Charles and William Archer had
similar maps when they and others were looking out for country.
Richard R. Ware.
25 York Parade,
Brisbane. March 23,
Sir,- Reading your issue of
“Truth” on Saturday, I see a small mistake re the late William Vowles, which
says he was a Devonshire man. Not so, he was a Somersetshire man, and born in
Bath on June 12, 1813. He came from Sydney overland through Cunningham’s Gap,
which was very perilous in those early days. He settled in Ipswich, and built
the first house for the late Mr. Gossly. He was the first man married there by
Archbishop Poldney. In the early history of Ipswich he took a very prominent
part. He brought to the Sydney Exhibition, which was then held in Belmore Park,
cotton, coffee, and tobacco leaf, all grown in barrels, which cost for transit
alone £100. He explained the cotton, and how easily it could be cultivated, as
all could see the pods and plant growing there.
The cider was all right. He
had it sent out by the hogshead from Somerset and Devonshire.
Trusting in some issue the
correction will be made.
Sir, Permit me as a very old
colonist to express the great pleasure I experience when reading those
historical articles in “Truth” entitled “The Paddington cemetery,” which include
many records of early Brisbane. The writer of those articles must have kept a
remarkably correct diary, or otherwise be the enviable possessor of a marvelous
retentive memory, for I knew many of the persons and places referred to, and it
is with a feeling of delight that I weekly renew as it were my acquaintance with
people and scenes of bygone times. I had no idea when the articles were started
that they were going to be so many and interesting, or I should have been most
careful in filing them away for further reading and reference, but, you know,
the “Truth” no sooner arrives than it is simply rushed. They all want it, but I
should be thankful to get it even at 5th hand. Little inaccuracies
occur here and there, especially in the earlier articles such as “Ralph Rhodes
kept the Sawyers’ Arms in George Street near the site of the old Lands Office.”
All the time I knew Rhodes he kept the Retreat Hotel. Rhodes and his wife were a
very corpulent couple, and his pub was about the most popular in town. Meals
only a bob, even at that time, and mine host and his lady always considered
their personality a great
advertisement for their hotel, and so it undoubtedly was.
Sir,- A par appeared in
“Truth” stating that Rob Cowan was drowned in Deep Creek, near Gladstone. That
brought to my recollection a sad event that took place years ago and left a
mother and daughter ruined for life. They are both now living near Brisbane, and
very few, if any, besides myself could give the true history of this case.
Mr. Mac – we will call him-
was a public school teacher in one of the Ben schools, and was transferred to
Bowen to take charge of the Bowen school. He left Brisbane with his wife and
infant daughter, in the old Queensland (Captain Hirst). His Excellency Governor
Blackall was also a passenger, making his first and only northern tour. Also a
large number of New South Wales and Brisbane drummers or commercial
Things went all right till
the Queensland’s arrival at Maryborough, when, it being a public holiday on
account of the Governor’s visit, the bottle and glass did merrily pass and
towards evening everyone was –well-
jolly, and more or less full of mischief, the drummers taking a leading
Mac wanted to go into the
lady’s cabin to see his wife, but the stewardess, seeing he was well “on,”
prevented him, telling him no gentlemen were allowed in the lady’s cabin. This
appeared to annoy Mac., and he tried to force his way in, but was prevented by
the steward. The drummers, bent on mischief, advised him to come on deck with
them, and after a few more drinks, he went on deck still complaining of not
being allowed to see his wife and child.
“Not allowed to see your
wife and child,” said one, “Why did you not tell us your trouble before? Why the
Captain has your wife locked up in one of his cabins, and if you wait long
enough you will be able to see which cabin she is in. I believe she is in that
cabin,” pointing to a locker attached to the paddle box.
Mac believed them, and kept
watch from the time the steamer left the Mary River till off Bustard Head, when
one of the men went to the locker, and Mac made a rush and knocked the sailor
man aside. Seeing only a lot of old ropes and things, he asked which was the
captain’s cabin. The sailor pointed out the cabin on the bridge. A light was
burning inside and the captain was taking his forty winks before taking charge
of the vessel.
Entering Port Curtis, Mac
took up a position near the cabin, but some of the drummers got him to go below
to join them in a drink, as they thought he might attack the captain.
They stuffed him with all
sorts of nonsense till the steamer got to Gladstone, where, having business to
attend to, they left Mac to do as he liked. Mac, not seeing his wife in the
cabin, rushed ashore and made complaint that his wife had been kept from him,
and locked in the captain’s cabin during the whole of the trip from Brisbane.
The agent made inquiries, also spoke to the captain. But all laughed at the
thing, but the agent said it was no laughing matter. The writer and the agent
went on board the steamer and saw a lady with a child, who was pointed out as
Mrs. Mac, and the stewardess said the lady had never been out of the cabin since
the steamer left Brisbane.
The writer told Mac. That he
had heard that people had been “pulling his leg,” but Mac would have none of it.
He knew it was true, he said, and he would have the conduct of the captain
brought before the directors in Sydney, and he declined to go on board the
The steamer left without
him, taking his wife and child on to Rockhampton. Mac. Made a report, filling 3
or 4 sheets of foolscap, which he handed to the agent.
Now comes the trouble.
Having neither money nor luggage, what was he to do? No steamer for a week, and
no one knew anything of him, but the Gladstone school teacher agreed to pay for
a week’s board, and two or three glasses a day. He was advised to wire to his
wife, but no one knew if he did, as he left the hotel next morning, stating his
intention of walking to Rockhampton.
His wife was in Rockhampton,
and when the next week’s boat arrived, expected to meet her husband. Not seeing
or hearing anything, she applied to the police, who communicated with Gladstone,
to find that he had left Gladstone some nine days before for Rockhampton. The
Gladstone and Rockhampton police were out looking for him, and he was traced to
Raglan station. Rob Cowan was in charge at the time. He was the last that saw
Mac., who stopped at Raglan on Sunday night, and left early on Monday after
“I saw him,” said Rob,
“fastening the gate after going through. He was dressed in light tweed and
bell-topper white hat.” After going through the gate, the track was not too
plain for some distance, as the sheep had destroyed all the grass, but the
Raglan track being on a ridge, could be seen from the gate, and Mac might have
taken that track, which only led to Port Alma and mangrove swamps, and he may
have got bushed or killed by the blacks.
Anyway he was never seen or
heard of from that day to this, and Mrs. Mac. Does not know whether she is a
widow or a wife.
The blacks on Raglan were
not particular who they killed. One named Willie Wellington, was credited with
more than one murder, and the writer and Willy had a “go in” once, and painted
one another till both were exhausted. Willy Wellington was over 6 feet in
height, young and strong, but he met his Waterloo eventually, trying conclusions
with the “Old Sergeant.”
Sir,- Among those buried in
Paddington cemetery, and not so far mentioned in “Bygone Brisbane,” is captain
John Williams, who arrived in Sydney in the year 1826, being then 29 years of
age. He remained in Sydney 11 years, when he came to Moreton Bay in the year
1837. Prior to his decease Williams often stated that at the time of his arrival
in Queensland there was only one house, that of the Acting Governor, and he was
the first free settler to build a house. He had an order from New South Wales to
select land wherever he chose, and he decided to settle on the present site of
the railway overbridge at Russell Street, South Brisbane. He initiated the first
ferry service between North and South Brisbane, and was the first to engage in
the coal industry at Moggill and Redbank. He was also the first in the timber
getting trade, and the first lime burner in Queensland. On the Russell Street
site mentioned, he opened the first hotel and boarding house in Brisbane. In
later years he owned two vessels (the John and the Sarah), in which he brought
immigrants from the bay. For many years he conducted a farm at Hemmant, then
known as Bowden Hill. His widow still survives him, and Mr. John Williams, well
known in sailing circles, is his only son.