Having been for some years a reviewer I know the
          possible humiliations awaiting the man who sends out anything
          by way of a book; but here are my “Memories” with all their
          imperfections admitted in advance. The genesis of this volume
          was in a proposal by the Editor of the “Courier”, Mr.
          Sanderson Taylor, backed by the Associate Editor, Mr. Firmin
          McKinnon, that I should contribute a series of articles in the
          form of reminiscences.
         
          That loosened the floodgates, and the flow lasted for
          two years. Truthfully, I may say that the “Memories” are
          reprinted in response to many requests. Since the beginning of
          the series many changes have occurred. Some of the men and
          women mentioned have gone on the long journey; others have
          changed their abiding places, and there have been changes in
          the conditions of people, but in the main I give the material
          as originally printed.
         
          The book is not intended to be historical, but may have
          historical value. In no sense is it to be taken as covering
          the period 1877 – 1926. It is just a series of remembrances,
          impressions – personal and general, with opinions, my own
          opinions. The articles appeared under my name and with a
          characteristic spirit of tolerance the “Courier” allowed me to
          fulminate or praise regardless of its own particular policy.
         
          The Townsville “Herald” before my day at the end of
          1877 had editors of note, men who left their mark on the
          history of the North, and one at least who has done much
          pioneering in the journalism, agriculture, and military life
          of Queensland. Major A. J. Boyd was a predecessor. He was a
          fine scholar, and not only a classicist, but a master of
          French, Italian and German. In much later years I heard him
          speak to an audience of Italians at a luncheon in the Brisbane
          Botanic Gardens that he lifted them to their feet, and to
          enthusiastic vivas. He spoke of Dante, and in the tongue in
          which Dante gave the world the great expressions of his
          genius. Major Boyd was of the days of the “Cleveland Bay
          Express,” and he left a standard of journalism in the north
          which made things rather strenuous for his successors.
         
          Later he was on the staff of the “Queenslander”, ran
          big schools at Milton and Nundah on public school lines, and,
          in turn, was head master of Toowoomba Grammar School,
          commanded the Garrison Artillery of Queensland, and edited the
          “Agricultural Journal.”
         
          Then there were Sigerson and Conroy. I took over from
          Conroy, and well remember the opening lines of his last leader
          in the “Herald.”
         
          They ran: “To use a colloquial though by no means
          elegant expression, we are literally ‘stumped’ for news.”
         
          My journey from Sydney to Townsville was by the old
          Victoria, under Captain Thomas Lake, and shipmates included
          Victor Sellheim, NOW Major-General Sellheim, C.B., C.M.G.,
          Adjutant-General of the Commonwealth Forces, and one of the
          most gallant and honest gentlemen that Australia has produced.
         
          Another was a chubby chap with yet the fat legs of
          babyhood. We know him now as Mr. E. Lissner, a well-known
          Brisbane  business
          man, and a member of the Stock Exchange.
         
          Sellheim was aged 11, and I was 21, and Lissner
          probably about 6. The first named was going to Maytown to
          spend Christmas with his father, Mr. P. F. Sellheim, then
          police magistrate and warden on the Palmer, and later Under
          Secretary for Mines in Brisbane.
         
          Lissner was going to Charters Towers, under maternal
          protection, to the home of his father, Mr. Isidore Lissner,
          who later was Minister for Mines for Queensland.
         
          Sellheim not long ago told me – our friendship has been
          long and undimmed through all these years – that he remembered
          standing with me one night watching the phosphorescent glow in
          the water that broke from the sides of the old Victoria while
          I explained the natural history of the starry streams.
         
          The Townsville “Herald” was owned and run by Mr. James
          McManus, a practical printer, and a shrewd man of business,
          but it was rather a shock to hear him spoken of as “Jimmy”
          McManus. To the disrespectful I spoke of Mr. McManus, and make
          no mistake about the “mister.”
         
          The “Herald” was almost entirely a local paper – there
          was economy in the matters of telegrams, and only occasional
          letters from Charters Towers, and flickers from the dying
          light of the Palmer.
         
          The Hodgkinson was flourishing, and we had on the day I
          landed news of the opening of the new port, which later became
          Port Douglas, named in compliment to the Premier of the day,
          the Hon. John Douglas, who long since has gone to his rest,
          but leaving hostages to fortune in his distinguished sons, who
          are an honour to his name. One is Mr. Hugh Douglas (Elliott,
          Donaldson, and Douglas), formerly M.L.A. for Cook, and who
          held Ministerial rank in the State; Mr. E. A. Douglas,
          barrister; another, Mr. Justice Douglas, of the Northern
          Supreme Court; and another was Lieutenant. H. M. Douglas, one
          of the Queenslanders to give his life for his country in the
          Great War.
         
          On the “Herald” learning something about printing, was
          a tall, lean lad, Jack Mehan who later became one of the
          originators and owners of the Townsville “Bulletin,” which was
          built up from the “Herald,” that paper becoming a big weekly.
         
          Later came the amalgamation of the “Northern Miner” and
          the “North Queensland Register,” under Mr. Dave Green, and the
          “Miner” and the “herald” passed into the shades. These
          amalgamations were long before my time.
         
          I always associate Jack Mehan with another very dear
          old friend, John N. Parkes, who has filled practically every
          high position in the life of Townsville, having been for
          sixteen years President of the Chamber of Commerce, and the
          last fourteen years in an unbroken succession.
         
          Prosperous men they are, who have done the State some
          service. Three of Jack Mehan’s boys fought overseas, and he
          had the privilege to give one of them to his country, a
          bright, capable lad, above whose grave the poppies bloom in
          that great God’s Acre in Northern Europe, where so many
          thousands of Australians sleep.
         
          Both Mehan and Parkes were fine athletes, and
          specialised in sprint running. Parkes could get very near to
          evens over 100 yards. Jack Mehan probably was the first to try
          out Malone, when that great runner arrived as an immigrant
          with the inevitable Irish bundle.
         
          The “Bulletin” of Townsville had associated with it as
          editor-in-chief the late Dodd Clarke, and also “Beachcomber”
          Banfield, of Dunk Island. The books of “Beachcomber” are as
          beautiful in the literary sense as in their Nature
          revelations.
         
          Townsville in the late 1870s was beginning to grow. It
          aspired to be capital of the North. It was not content with
          the trade of Charters Towers and the Hughenden settlement, but
          Burns, Philp, and Co. despatched teams under Mr. Archie
          Forsyth to Winton, then better known as Western Creek. 
         
          Those days were before the railways, and inland
          journeying was by coach or buggy, while goods transport was by
          bullock or horse wagons. The town had most excellent hotels,
          and the Queen’s, under Mr. Evans, the owner, was equal to
          anything in the land. A luncheon attraction was the “Welsh
          rabbit” prepared by Harry, the head waiter.
         
          One day Roger Sheaffe, Walter Hayes, Armstrong the
          inspector of police, and a Gulf squatter, quite a character,
          were lunching together, and the Gulf man was asked if he would
          take “Welsh rabbit.”
         
          His reply was a gruff negative. 
         
          “Do have some,” said Walter Hayes, “it’s very good.”
         
          The Gulf man said, 
          No; it’s too much like a (adjective) bandicoot!”
         
          Another whom I met at the Queen’s was a young Herbert
          River sugar planter, later Sir Alfred Cowley. He was quiet and
          cultured. Mr. Evans, the wise old landlord, said one day,
          “That is the cleverest man I have even known. He was sugar
          planting in Natal, and is teaching the people on the Herbert
          their business. But he is wonderfully learned.”
         
          I asked, “Why doesn’t he go in for politics?”
         
          Mr. Evans said, “Well, I suppose he’s too much of a
          gentleman for that game.”
         
          Yet the sugar planter became a politician, member for
          Herbert, the Parliamentary authority on the sugar industry, a
          member of the cabinet, and later Speaker of the Legislative
          Assembly with a knighthood.
         
          Louis Becke, of the Australian Joint Stock Bank, and
          Tom Kelleway were my special pals. Louis had two brothers in
          the North – Cecil and Alfred, both very proper young men, and
          rather doubtful about the brother, who as a lad had been
          supercargo with the notorious Bully Hayes in the South Seas.
          Louis was a caged eagle. He had an impediment in his speech,
          but was a wag.
Once he
          complained that his conversational brilliance was too often
          spoiled by “his d… stutter.” He went on to say: “I start with
          a deucedly clever thing, but before I can get it out every one
          has seen the point, and the epigram is like a sodden damper.”
         
          In those days I heard much which afterwards went to
          make up “By Reef and Palm,” and other books.
         
          And Tom Kelleway also became a banker. He was
          physically one of the most perfect men I have ever seen. Both
          now sleep the long sleep. Good comrades, and ever to be held
          in affectionate remembrance.
         
          Of course, we quarreled with the other paper, which was
          edited by one Hughes, who had been a Church of England parson.
          He was a brilliant and incisive writer, and often held me
          squirming on his pen point. One day my friends suggested that
          I should hammer him, I was always in training, and was
          persuaded, and went to the office of the reptile contemporary
          seeing red, but Hughes politely invited me in, gave me a chair
          and a cigar, and talked to me like the good chap that he was.
          My friends outside waited in vain for “the thunder of the
          captains, and the shouting,” but it was a wilted youth who
          went out to them. Perhaps there was something which forbade
          chaffing. Hughes and I became quite good friends, and I no
          longer wrote of the “pariahs of the Press,” and he forebore to
          repeat his observations that an infant’s feeding bottle was
          more suited to me than an ink bottle, or that my paper reeked
          with a callow juvenility.
         
          Probably the most interesting figure in Northern
          journalism in my time was Thaddeus O’Kane, editor and
          proprietor of the “Northern Miner,” at Charters Towers. In
          those days “The Towers” was a stirring town. The field was
          rich, money was abundant, the consumption of strong beverages
          was enormous – partly a climatic and partly a social
          phenomenon – and the miner was the kingpin.
         
          Those were the days when the gigantic Warden Charters
          was the chief representative of the Government on the field.
          Looking back over all the intervening years, a long avenue of
          joys and sadnesses, the principal recurring thought is upon
          the wonderfully good order on “the field.”
         
          Charters Towers had seen some rousing and violent
          times, but ordinarily the miners looked to it that there was a
          general tone of decency and fair play.
         
          But to get back to Thaddy O’Kane, as he was called. A
          spare, grizzled man, as I remember him, about middle height,
          soft and cultured in speech, and with all the little touches
          of the Public School and University. But his eye was ever on
          the alert for an affront to himself or to public morals. It
          was a keen, aggressive, Irish eye. And his pen was vitriolic.
          Of course, he was “agin” the Government, but more particularly
          against all persons in authority, and every issue of the
          “Miner” revealed the wickedness and incompetence of Charters
          Towers officialdom – that is, as Mr. Thaddeus O’Kane saw it.
         
          Many stories were told of his earlier life. It was said
          that he had been a private secretary to Lord Palmerston; but
          my impression now is that he was a man of good Irish family,
          and had probably been a schoolmaster.
         
          A few years later I met him with Pritchard Morgan, when
          O’Kane was on the way to Bowen to battle for that electorate
          with the young barrister, Edward Chubb, later a K.C. and
          Justice of the Supreme Court.
         
          O’Kane was there at his best, and at his worst. A keen
          organiser, wonderful in the preparation of literature, but as
          a platform speaker a failure. His speeches were too carefully
          prepared, too loaded with “facts and figures,” while his young
          barrister opponent spoke form a generous and modest heart of
          the simple essentials of the country. It was the destructive
          critic failing when face to face with the constructive worker.
          Mr. O’Kane left a family, and his son, Jack, was for some
          years on the “Courier” in Brisbane. What an ark the old paper
          has been!
         
          Reference has been made to the excellence of John N.
          Parkes and Jack Mehan as sprint runners. Another in Townsville
          at the time was Robert Philp, after Sir Robert Philp, who was
          managing partner there of Burns, Philp, and Co.
         
          Our old friend Mr. Charles Melton, the doyen of the
          “Courier,” tells me that in his younger days Robert Philp was
          quite a fair boxer, but he starred in pedestrianism. A match
          was arranged in Townsville between Philp and Fred Symes, of
          the Customs. Symes was not an athlete by any means, and even
          an indifferent walker, but he could not resist a challenge
          from Philp, with an offer of 25 yards in a hundred. The event
          took place on the old racecourse, and created a great amount
          of interest. Symes showed a quite unexpected agility, and won
          by several yards amidst great cheering. It was not that Philp
          had lost his dash but the genial second officer of Customs –
          Hughes, afterwards Income Tax Commissioner in Brisbane, was
          the sub-collector – was quite a dark horse.
         
          Ross Creek was the south and south-east boundary of
          Flinders Street in those days, and in passing it may be said
          that Flinders Street was, and probably is, one of the hottest
          places I have experienced.
         
          The beach was delightfully cool, but Flinders Street,
          cut off from the sea breeze by Melton Hill and Castle Hill,
          and the slopes thereof, was very oppressive.
         
          On the town side of the creek there were only a few
          buildings – the A.S.N. Co.’s offices with Smith and Walker as
          agents, Burns, Philp, and Co., Clifton and Aplin Bros., and a
          few shacks further along.
         
          Later on my second visit, the “Standard” office, Tom
          Wright’s paper, with Henry Knapp, the solicitor, as editor, W.
          J. Castling’s butchery, formerly Johnston and Castling, and
          the Post Office had been built, and a few business places up
          towards the Newmarket Hotel. Ross Island was reached from
          Flinders Street by a ferry boat (very occasional), and over
          there we had a cricket ground, but some of the big matches
          were played out at a place known as the German Gardens,
          towards Kissing Point.
         
          There were crocodiles in Ross Creek. Some black kiddies
          were bathing one afternoon in the creek from Burns, Philp, and
          Co.’s wharf, when one of them about 8 years of age was
          “snapped.” The crocodile swam up the creek holding the little
          chap above water, while blacks frantically yelling and
          throwing stones ran along the bank. Then the crocodile
          disappeared with its victim, leaving just a swirl on the
          water, and all was over save the weird lamentations of the
          bereaved.
         
          From Burns, Philp’s wharf in 1880 I shot a 13ft
          crocodile with a Snider bullet, which ripped a good hole
          through the back from side to side.
         
          Smith and Walker in addition to the agency of the
          A.S.N. Co. had a general auctioneering and commission
          business. Mr. E. J. B. Wareham was one of the shipping office
          staff, and his son E. B. Wareham, was the office boy. The
          last-named stuck to the shipping business, and is now manager
          of the Adelaide Steamship co., and was well known when in
          Brisbane as the Queensland manager. In my days in Townsville,
          he was in knickerbockers. He married a daughter of the late J.
          G. Macdonald, P.M., and his only son made the supreme
          sacrifice in Gallipoli with the sons of many of Queensland’s
          best known men.
         
          Burns, Philp, and Co., was a young and enterprising
          firm, and the old established and chief warehouse was that of
          Clifton and Aplin Bros. Mr Clifton was of the courtly type,
          and was a good financial manager. Mr. William Aplin and Mr.
          Harry Aplin formed the second section of the firm. William
          Aplin later became a member of the Queensland Legislative
          Council. He was a cheery man, and had drifted into
          storekeeping on the Etheridge, I believe. In his heart he was
          always a bushman, with the love of the wide spaces, the brave
          horses, the flocks spreading over the open downs, or the dash
          to deal with rowdy cattle, or to cut off a small mob in a
          “moonlighting” expedition.
         
          Later the firm was joined by Mr. Villiers Brown, who
          had been a bank manager, and son of the Anthony Brown, so well
          known in the early life of the State. Some years after the
          retirement of Mr. Clifton, it became Aplin, Brown and Crayshaw
          Ltd., with headquarters in Brisbane.
         
          As Ducrow said: “Let us leave the cackle and come to
          the ‘osses.”
         
          The Hanrans, John and P. F. (later P. F. Hanran
          M.L.A.), and “Young Johnny,” Mr. Joe Hodel later on, and Dr.
          Frost were among the principal racing owners in Townsville.
          The Hanrans had the love of the horse and of the sport with
          their Irish blood, and in earlier days they were pretty well
          known at Ipswich and on the Downs. Dr. Frost had his own ideas
          of training. His formula was plenty of water, plenty of
          linseed (boiled), and plenty of work. A ribald youth published
          a screed descriptive of the methods, and referred to the
          probable protests of Jimmy – who had to train under the
          doctor’s directions – and part of it, as well as I remember,
          ran:-
“Give
            ‘Exhibit Marking gallops and gallons of clear H²O
Then
            more, mixed with limum, and then still more eau,
Plus a
            bushel or more of solid torteau
‘The
            process,’ says Jimmy, ‘deserves no laudo.’
But the
            doctor says, ‘Jimmy, you vade retro!”
That doggerel was a change from prosy municipal meetings and shipping reports, and the doctor’s anger soon passed, especially when the linseed fed ‘osses won a couple of races, and the sapient amongst us were covered with the contumely which falls to the false prophets of a provincial town.
         
          Racing in Townsville at the end of 1877 included
          hurdles. Brisbane saw hurdle racing, and even steeple chasing
          in earlier years. We had not then got to the full appreciation
          of the sprint as a means of providing big fields and
          profitable totalisators. The hurdle race at Townsville at
          Christmas, 1877, was won by one of the Mosman family, a
          younger brother of the late Hugh Mosman M.L.C., brother of
          Lady Palmer and of Lady McIlwraith. He was a hard goer to his
          fences, and with remarkably good hands.
         
          On going to Townsville I took letters of introduction
          to James Gordon, of Cluden, and to Andrew Ball, from an old
          friend, Henry Bohle, after whom the Bohle River was named when
          he was in the Queensland Government Service. 
         
          James Gordon, who had been Sub-Collector of Customs,
          had retired. He was the father of a very good friend and
          comrade, Major “Bob” Gordon, who served with the Gordon
          Highlanders in the Tirah campaign, and with the First
          Queensland Contingent in the South African War. “Bob” or
          “Boomerang” Gordon, as he was known to the Scottish soldiers,
          commanded the Gordon Highlanders Mounted Infantry Company in
          South Africa, having been lent by the Queenslanders.
         
          Cluden and Stewart’s Creek were tip-top places for duck
          shooting, and many a good bag we scored there. Andrew Ball had
          been a station manager, but prior to my time had married and
          became a landlord of a Flinders Street hotel. He had done a
          lot of pioneering out Cloncurry way.
         
          The Police Magistrate at the end of 1877 was Gilbert
          Eliott, who had been well known in the Burnett district, where
          he had sheep country. His brother spelt his name “Elliot” – or
          it may have been the other way about. During my second stay in
          Townsville, the Police Magistrate was Charles Dicken, who
          later was Secretary the Agent-General in London and then
          Agent-General and C.M.G.
         
          A sister of Dicken married Henry Ulick Browne, the
          fifth Marquis of Sligo, and a brother was in the Harbours and
          Rivers Department in Brisbane.
         
          Succeeding Dicken as P.M. came Edmund Morey, a man of
          the “pure merino” school, who had been a station owner in
          Riverina and later owned Mitchell Downs. 
         
          Morey, Mrs. Morey, Robert Logan Jack and Mrs. Jack,
          Hercules Coutts, of the Q.N. Bank, and Mrs. Coutts, Willie
          Stevenson, later a sugar grower at Innisfail, and Swiss
          Davies, later of Ipswich, both of the Q.N. Bank, lived with
          the C. J. Walkers at Eagle’s Nest when I was domiciled there.
         
          Mr. Morey was a widely read and cultured man, and
          though to many he seemed austere, I found him always a
          charming friend.
         
          Mr. E. Morey, of the Taxation Department in Queensland,
          is a son.
         
          Dr. Jack and I had met at Cooktown, and with Inspector
          Hervey Fitzgerald, of the Police, had gone out a little way on
          the beginning of his exploratory trip in Cape York Peninsula..
          Many a profitable hour I spent in his little geological museum
          on Melton Hill. Mrs. Jack was a beautiful and accomplished
          woman. Her son James Love insisted on joining his step-father
          on the Cape York trip, though only a kiddie, but a strapping
          chap. He is now a well-known horse-breeder, owner of racing
          stuff, and a shipper to India, and he imported Chantemerle and
          other good ones. O last saw him judging the bloods and
          miscellaneous at the Royal National Exhibition at Bowen Park.
         
          It is impossible to recall the old days in Townsville
          without a thought of the bank managers. Halloran, of the Bank
          of New South Wales, was a son of the Sheriff of Queensland. He
          was of the splendid Viking type – about 6ft 3in., blue-eyed
          and with a long fair beard falling in (as it was then
          regarded) masculine beauty well over his great chest.
         
          Ferdinand Sachs was manager of the Australian Joint
          Stock Bank – musician, literateur, boxer, fencer, and
          wonderful shot with a rifle. He had his private bachelor home
          at Hermit Park, and the story runs that one night he gave his
          guest, Julian Thomas (“The Vagabond”), rather a shock. At
          dinner “The Vagabond” had been jeering at some of the stories
          of sharp shooting, and later, in the dark, was walking in the
          garden serenely puffing a cigar. Presently there was a crack
          and a splash, and the glowing end of the cigar was cut clean
          off by a bullet from Sach’s Winchester. “The Vagabond” didn’t
          afterwards question the daring of our sharpshooters. 
         
          Shire, afterwards of the London office, was at the
          Queensland National Bank, and was succeeded by J. K. Cannan, a
          son of Dr. Kearsey Cannan, of Brisbane. J. K. Cannan gave
          Queensland some fine sons and daughters, including J. K., the
          lawyer, and General “Jim,” C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O., and lots of
          other good things.
         
          Townsville was too conventional for me, and so I
          secured a job on the Cooktown “Herald” early in 1878, my
          successor on the Townsville “Herald” being Francis Hodson
          Nixon, who was an architect, an artist and a poet. He was a
          brilliant writer, and blessed in having his quiver full of
          “hostages to hazardry,” as Thomas Hardy puts it.
         
          A son of F. H. Nixon is Frank Nixon, , the secretary of
          the Timber Merchants Association in Brisbane and a well-known
          Press controversialist.
         
          After Nixon on the “Herald” was P. Dempsey, a gentle,
          scholarly man with a great fair beard. On my second stay in
          Townsville, I was writing for the “Standard”, edited by Henry
          Knapp, an English solicitor, and the proprietor Mr. Tom
          Wright, frequently lent me to my old chief, McManus to bring
          out the “Herald” on days when Dempsey was too ill for work.
         
          Another Townsville journalist was R. H. Pearce.
          “Gitano” was his pen name, a very brilliant man and a master
          of satirical jingle.
         
          For the “Standard” I wrote a semi-historical article
          about seven columns, including a report of the opening of the
          first section of the Townsville- Charters Towers Railway to
          the Reid River.
         
          The contractor was James McSharry, an engineer of the
          Brisbane Water and Sewerage Board who won great fame in
          Gallipoli and France, and a soldier’s grave in La Belle
          France. James McSharry was a great pioneer, warm hearted, and
          a wonderful handler of men. Once a strike threatened, and he
          went out and met 200 uproarious men. 
“We want
          so-and-so,” they kept yelling. It meant a considerable
          addition to the cost.
“Well,”
          said McSharry, “if I give you that will you make it up to me
          in some other way?”
There was
          an immediate cheer and cries for “Yes,” and then cheers for
          “McSharry.”
The leader
          of the trouble stepped out and said: “Look here, McSharry, if
          you not think it a fair thing, say so, and we will get back to
          work. You’re white all through!”
“No, men,”
          he said, “it’s right enough.”
So the
          strike trouble ended.
No striking
          for strike’ sake.
The white
          ant had not got into the Labour movement.
There was
          no Labour movement then, but workers and employers in the
          North in those days dealt with a dispute on the man to man
          system.
The
          Townsville “Herald” had another editor after Dempsey, a very
          clever chap from one of the Old Land universities, but he was
          not keen on the grind of a provincial newspaper. He was
          red-bearded, and stood about 6ft 3in. I forget his name. Later
          he became a Government Agent on the South Seas, and while on
          duty, was shot clean through the head.
He was
          followed by my old friend, the incomparable Archibald Meston,
          who could swing an axe with the best of bushmen, take a turn
          with the gloves with the smartest professional, lift weights
          with a Sandow, spin out columns of vivid, glowing prose, write
          a little poem reminiscent of the sweet things we dullards read
          in the Greek Anthology, or lampoon in satirical verse an
          opponent in controversy.
The
          “Herald” was for six months an arbiter on philology and
          politics in the North, and then Meston pushed off to Cairns
          with Horace Brinsmead to clear scrub and grow sugar, and to
          subdue the heights of Bellenden-Ker.
I had
          succeeded him as editor of the “Observer”, then a Brisbane
          morning paper, and felt in a comparison just as a little peep
          of candlelight ought to feel when the heavens are ablaze with
          the glories of a tropical storm. As Mr. Pepys would have said:
          “And so to Cooktown”.
 
[The
            Cooktown Chapters have been extracted separately as Part 1]
 
Chapter VII -Off to Brisbane – Editing a Morning Paper – Joining the “Courier”- A Staff of Brilliant Men – The Francis Adams Tragedy – Lane and the Labour Movement – Politics and Politicians
         
          When John Flood was asked by the new owners of the
          “Observer” to recommend an editor he sent me a telegram to the
          North and definitely offered the job, asking me to sail by
          first steamer.
         
          It did not take long to get to a decision, and I took
          over from Mr. Archibald Meston towards the end of February
          1881.
         
          Mr. Flood and I had been rival editors and close
          companions in Cooktown, and in my new work he was “guide,
          mentor and friend.”
         
          The proprietors were McIlwraith, Morehead and Perkins,
          three members of the Government, and McIlwraith was Premier.
         
          It was arranged a couple of days after I had taken
          over, that I should meet Messrs Morehead and Perkins, and the
          meeting took place at the office of Morehead and Co., in Mary
          Street, in the old stone buildings opposite the present
          headquarters of Moreheads Ltd.
         
          I had rather feared the first impressions, for I was
          slight and perhaps more juvenile looking than my years, for
          then I was nearly 25.
         
          “You are very young,” said B. D. Morehead, and the soft
          impeachment had to be admitted.
         
          We talked things over, politics especially, and the two
          big men seemed not a little concerned.
         
          It may be said that both Morehead and Perkins seemed to
          regard an editor, or a newspaper man of any sort, as a kind of
          retainer or hanger-on.
         
          Frankly, we never hit it. We did not exchange much in
          the way of courtesies. McIlwraith was different. A great big
          man, big-brained, big-hearted, generous, dominating, and
          brave. Queensland never sufficiently appreciated him. He was
          the peacemaker as between his colleagues and their editor.
          When he expressed a reasoned wish it was promptly observed. I
          have never known a man so free of littleness, even to his
          political opponents, and they were his only enemies. When my
          year with the “Observer” was up, and I was transferring to the
          “Courier” I said to him: “I’ll often come to you for advice”;
          and he said “Come and see me often.”
         
          The “Observer” office was at the corner of Edward and
          Adelaide Streets, where the Freeleagus restaurant now is.
         
          The manager was Mr. J. M. Black, still hale and well in
          Brisbane, who had a printing business of his own, and he also
          printed the “Observer”.
         
          He did not interfere much with the paper, but he was
          always available, and many, many times his sound judgment and
          wide knowledge saved us from slips.
         
          It was an evil day for the “Observer” when Mr. Black
          gave it up. He was succeeded by Mr. W. M. Crofton as manager,
          and that was the end of the agreement between the editorial
          and managerial sides.
         
          Crofton was a clever accountant, but was narrow, and
          entirely dominated in one sense by Mr. Perkins; but in another
          way he influenced the Perkins element in the directorate.
         
          The regular news staff, besides myself, was composed of
          R. J. Leigh and W. H. Qualtrough.
         
          Leigh was a wonderful worker, upon whose heart I am
          sure “Observer” was written. He had a failing, and his end was
          tragic and intensely sad. He could do anything on a paper,
          including good fighting leaders.
         
          Qualtrough was a big, handsome chap, who worked well,
          but who refused to take life seriously.
         
          Both were loyal, willing helpers.
         
          There were some “side issues”, as Leigh called them,
          including Theobald Vincent Wallace-Bushelle, a son of the
          famous Madame Bushelle and that great basso, her husband, who
          was at one time in England considered a rival of Lablache.
         
          “Toby” Bushelle was a nephew of Vincent Wallace, the
          composer of “Maritana” – his mother’s brother – and he did
          most of the musical and dramatic notices for the “Observer”,
          besides pursuing the elusive advertisement. He was a very fine
          singer, a basso, like his father and his brother John. The
          last-named old Sydneyites will remember. “Toby” had toured
          with a great many companies, including the Caradinis. He
          helped me a great deal in the matter of voice-training.
         
          The leader writers included Mr. J. G. Drake, of the
          “Hansard” staff, later a barrister, and later again a Crown
          Prosecutor with a long service in the Queensland Legislative
          Assembly and in the Federal Senate, a member of the Federal
          Government with the portfolio of Postmaster-General.
         
          Another was Mr. Robert Nall, also of the “Hansard”
          staff, and later one of the heads of the Sydney “Daily
          Telegraph”.
         
          Others were Mr. E. Thorne, and that very brilliant man,
          Mr. William Coote, who succeeded me when I went over to the
          “Courier”. Mr. Coote was the architect of the present Brisbane
          Town Hall, and did a history of Queensland, besides much
          pamphleteering.
         
          It was very hard to keep on the lines of policy which
          the directors, or a majority of them, desired, and to secure a
          measure of public confidence. Messrs Morehead and Perkins were
          extremists, and favoured violence in attack. McIlwraith
          favoured hard logic, or strong facts and mild language.
         
          But the “Observer” was bought for the purposes of
          strong party onslaughts, and there was not a little bitterness
          on both sides.
         
          The “Telegraph” was violently anti-McIlwraith, and
          supported the Opposition, led by Mr. Samuel Walker Griffith,
          later Sir. S. W. Griffith P.C., G.C.M.G., and Federal Chief
          Justice.
         
          That, I fancy, was before Mr. Brentnall became
          regularly associated with the “Telegraph”.
         
          Mr. Brentnall’s work I remember quite well – his short
          snappy sentences and “hammer it home” method of argument.
         
          The “Courier” had refused to become a violent partisan,
          and was never very keen on the Morehead-Perkins influence, and
          that had led to the purchase of another morning paper
          specially for party propaganda.
Perhaps the
          occasion is not the only one in “Courier” history when its
          refusal to be complaisant led to an opposition to it being set
          up.
         
          Another violent factor in the Government ranks was Mr.
          Lumley Hill. On one occasion he brought a letter to the
          “Observer” which had been approved by McIlwraith, and
          reluctantly I published it, with a “ready-made” footnote,
          having been, as Mr. J. M. Black reminds me, held free of
          responsibility.
It was an
          attack on Mr. Hemmant, formerly of Stewart and Hemmant, and
          Agent-General for Queensland under the Douglas Government.
Mr. Hemmant
          behaved generously in the matter, and an apology was
          published, with a provision for a subscription to some
          institution.
It was my
          second libel case, and my last.
The
          directors had the grace to absolve me from blame. McIlwraith
          took all responsibility, and Lumley Hill laughed at him. I
          don’t think  McIlwraith
          ever forgave it.
It may be
          added that Dr. Carr Boyd, the father of “Potjostler” Carr
          Boyd, the explorer, was a writer for the paper until he
          quarreled with Mr. Perkins; and that W. J. Waldron for a long
          time did a Parliamentary summary.
We formed a
          company to take over the “Observer” from McIlwraith, Morehead
          and Perkins. £10,000 capital, in 40 shares of £250, and the
          subscribers included many well-known pastoralists, one being
          James Tyson and another E. J. Stevens.
As already
          said, Mr. J. M. Black resigned from the management and devoted
          himself to his own by, and that practically was the end of the
          “Observer” as a morning paper from a commercial point of view.
          Mr. Black knew all about the printing and publishing of a
          paper, and had many strong friends, even in the opposition
          camp.
When Mr.
          Crofton took over the management and Mr. William Coote became
          editor, succeeded by Mr. P. J. Macnamara, the office was moved
          into a new brick building near the Town Hall, about where
          Edwards and Lamb, drapers, later established themselves.
But the
          game was up. The paper lasted but a year under the new regime,
          when it was bought – lock, stock, and barrel – by Mr. C. H.
          Buzacott, then managing partner of the “Courier” and
          “Queenslander” – the Brisbane Newspaper Coy. Ltd. – and moved
          to the “Courier” office.
Mr.
          Buzacott decided to publish the “Observer” as an evening
          newspaper, with a separate editorial staff, and he appointed
          me editor, and I selected Mr. Tom O’Carroll, son the editor of
          the “Courier”, as my assistant.
The new
          evening paper was notable chiefly for its startling headlines
          and sensational leaders, and Mr. Buzacott introduced the “On
          Dit” column, which was always and quite wrongly attributed to
          me.
The day
          came when the brilliant William O’Carroll, editor of the
          “Courier”, was to relinquish the strain of night work.
Carl
          Feilberg took over from him, and Mr. Buzacott decided that I
          should go on to general work, including one or two really
          special features, and O’Carroll should take the editorship of
          the “Observer”.
That was
          carried out and the “Observer”, I am sure, was very much
          improved. Mr. O’Carroll’s experience and wisdom much
          outweighed my exuberance and enthusiasm. In time he died. On
          the day of his funeral I was “down to it” with a very sharp
          attack of malaria, a legacy of New Guinea. O’Carroll had been
          a good worker. Like many other journalists he liked to be well
          away from his work, and he made his home at the Three-mile
          Scrub, on the road between Newmarket and Ashgrove, a
          delightful place with tress and ferns, some of the primeval
          scrub standing, a sanctuary for our sweetest song birds, and
          sloping down to a clear stream which in the wet season went
          tumbling and foaming over its bouldered bed. It was a
          paradise, restful and sweet, with the scents of wattle bloom
          and the near eucalyptus forest.
At about 2
          am after a strenuous night’s work, O’Carroll, when first I
          knew him, used to mount his old grey mare at the back of the
          office (which was in Queen Street) and plod quietly home.
The next
          editor of the “Observer” was Walter J. Morley; and then our
          present chief of the Brisbane Newspaper Co, J. J. Knight, who
          specialised in municipal affairs, and who had a staff of good
          leader writers, including Mr. M’Mahon, formerly of the Sydney
          “Star”, and Mylne, one of the most scholarly and trenchant of
          journalists and myself, if it be not immodest to claim
          inclusion.
Mr. Knight
          was the last of the separate editors, the “Observer” passing
          to the direction of a general editor or editor-in-chief, who
          of course was editor of the “Courier”.
Now that is
          the correct story of the “Observer” from my first knowledge of
          it.
When I
          joined the “Courier” in 1889 it had moved from the old offices
          to George Street – where the Johnsonian Club, with a certain
          fitness of succession, is now housed –to the new building in
          Queen Street, then lately erected by Mr. John Hardgrave, and
          adjoining what was then the British Empire Hotel.
         
          Mr. Charles Hardie Buzacott was the managing partner,
          and in the proprietary were also Mr. E. I. C. Browne (Little,
          Browne, and Ruthning of those days), and Mr. William Thornton,
          the Collector of Customs. Here I might say that Mr. Buzacott
          was a wonderfully capable journalist and a tremendous worker.
          In later years he did a great deal in the way of leader
          writing, and had a keen sense of humour. Those who did not
          know his work  little
          suspected that the quiet, reserved and sometimes brusque man
          was the writer of articles of beautiful English and often with
          humour like that of Oliver Wendell Holmes.
         
          The editor was William O’Carroll, a good judge of work,
          an uncompromising critic, and a hater of shams. His strong
          point was foreign politics – not expecting the Crowned Heads
          and their Ministers to mend their ways under his suggestions,
          but so that the people had not time to read up foreign affairs
          in full should be given an intelligent bird’s-eye view of
          them.
         
          The sub-editor and then editor of a rather short-lived
          “Evening News,” was Carl Feilberg, who was good at the job,
          but who was better as a writer.. He had a turn as sub-editor
          on the “Argus” in Melbourne, but was glad to get back again to
          the “Courier,” on which he became editor. In addition to
          sub-editing he did the “Political Froth” in the
          “Queenslander,” having succeeded W. H. Traill in that special
          job, and I succeeded Feilberg.
         
          Richard, or “Dick’ Newton was writing and reporting,
          and did most of the descriptive stuff, such as the Birthday
          Ball at Government House; and he also did, with remarkable
          insight, the theatres, though specialists did the big musical
          jobs.
         
          E. J. T. Barton, later sub-editor and then editor, did
          the cables and telegrams; and W. J. Morley, later editor of
          the “Observer,” did the law reports.
         
          Graham Haygarth, who was shot years after at Charters
          Towers, did the racing under the pen-name of “Hermit,” with an
          occasional jingle reminiscent of Whyte Melville, and was
          succeeded by E. A. Smith, “Pegasus,” a scholarly Englishman
          who in time raced some very good horses, and we often talked
          over the old days.
         
          There were some general and special writers, and a good
          many leaders came from “outside.”
         
          The “Courier” of those days was trenchant in the
          treatment of public affairs, careful in its treatment of the
          Queen’s English, and scrupulous in the correctness of its
          reports.
         
          My work was general, and in a little while very
          important, and the beginning with the “Courier” had some
          bearing on what I conceived to be a reporter’s duty to his
          paper.
         
          Brunton Stephens, during the Governorship of Sir Arthur
          Kennedy, was transferred from school teaching to be
          correspondence clerk at the Home Secretary’s Office. The
          Governor was a keen admirer of the poet’s more serious work,
          and so was Miss Kennedy, who was a great reader and a keen
          critic. Sir Arthur Kennedy had served at Cape Coast Castle and
          Hongkong, and on all his journeyings abroad he was accompanied
          by his daughter. They thought more of a fine poem, or even a
          good bit of prose, than of a fat bullock. Miss Kennedy once
          said: “It is by the art and literature of the place that
          people will judge Queensland of the ‘eighties.” In literature,
          to use a Brunton Stephens phrase, they knew “what’s what.” It
          seemed to the friends of the poet that in his letters to all
          and sundry from the Home Secretary’s Department he would
          “unconsciously slip into verse.” Was that not the obsession of
          Mr. Boffin’s friend, Silas Wegg? I sued the idea, and wrote
          for the “Queenslander” what purported to be a letter to “The
          worthy Mayor and aldermen of famous Wingeroo,” in reply to an
          application for the establishment of a pound. It was assumed
          that Brunton Stephens had been instructed to say that if the
          Mayor and aldermen would provide the material and build the
          yards a pound would be established. It was in the days when
          the singing of Swinburne was still a rage, and all our little
          rhymsters affected the alliteration done to death of Adam
          Lindsay Gordon.
         
          One verse rang:-
“Let
            the swearing, swaggering splitter seek the silky she-oak
            shade;
Cause
            the towering tree to totter till its thund’ring thud is
            made;
Till it
            lies in sandy softness on the easy earth, and then,
Let him
            cut, and split, and mortise – Mr. Mayor and aldermen.”
         
          It was the veriest doggerel, with only the redeeming
          grace of an idea, but it shook the Home Secretary’s Office and
          the Johnsonian Club to smithereens, and Brunton Stephens
          called me a villain – in a Pickwickian sense, of course – and
          told me I should very probably end up by being hanged. Who
          knows?
         
          At the “Courier” office in those days, and up to the
          time I went off to England in 1887, there was a sort of
          special room for contributors. I had a table in it, and met
          men, some of whom are well worth remembering.
         
          The first was John Douglas, the ex-Premier. He was a
          regular leader writer for the “Courier.” His work was bright
          and scholarly, as became a Rugby boy and a University man;
          there was the keen inside knowledge of one who had so lately
          been at the head of the Government, and there was a splendid
          breadth of treatment. Charles Hardie Buzacott and John Douglas
          had been on different sides in politics, but between them
          there was a deep mutual esteem. I think John Douglas continued
          to write “Courier” leaders until he was appointed Government
          Resident at Thursday Island. He was, in a sense, poor in the
          world’s goods,. He had been a Downs pastoralist, but had no
          regular profession, and had abstained from “making good”
          financially – which is a contradiction in terms, while he was
          Premier. He had a family of sons to educate and spared nothing
          for them, and it was necessary that he should use his brains
          and exercise his splendid administrative powers. Often at
          night we sat and talked when our work was done, and from John
          Douglas I learnt the duty of real service to my country.
          Whether the lesson was ever wisely applied is another
          question.
         
          Two men in those days were at the top of my mind, two
          Johns – John Douglas and John Flood. They were above small
          things in working for Queensland.
         
          “Where do I come in?” did not occur to either of them.
          
         
          John Douglas had the vision of a statesman, the soul of
          a patriot, and his honour 
          always seemed to me something lustrous.
         
          When first I saw a great operatic artist, as Lohengrin,
          step from his swan-drawn skiff, “mystic, wonderful” in his
          shining armour, I caught breath and said, “He is like John
          Douglas.”
         
          And yet how few of our young people are taught who and
          what John Douglas was?
         
          Some loud-mouthed or subtle demagogue blooming into a
          sudden affluence is popular, but the men who served Queensland
          rather than themselves are almost forgotten. To me John
          Douglas ranks with the best of those who have led a Government
          in this land of ours for absolute purity of motive and
          loftiness of aspiration. He had absolutely nothing to gain
          from his political service – at any rate, he gained nothing in
          the monetary sense. It always seems to me a great tribute to a
          political leader in a young country that his friends should be
          able to say: “He died a poor man!”
         
          When H. E. King was defeated for Maryborough by our old
          friend, “Jack” Annear, he was on the unemployed list.
         
          He had been Speaker of the Parliament of which
          McIlwraith became the head in 1879. He, also, became a
          “Courier” leader writer.
         
          King was tall and sharply rounded at the shoulders,
          wore a very long brown beard, had very shaggy brows, a soft
          voice, and a very pleasant “way with him.”
         
          He was an Irishman of an old Church of England family –
          came from the West, and had all the best that education could
          give him.
         
          He was in the Imperial Army for some years, but threw
          up his commission to come to Australia.
         
          His sister, Catherine King, was a well-known writer,
          and her book, “Lost for Gold” is well known to Queenslanders.
          It is to an extent founded on fact, and deals with the life
          and death of Griffen, who was hanged at Rockhampton for the
          murder of his subordinates on the Peak Downs escort.
         
          H. E. King married a sister of Dr. Armstrong, of
          Toowoomba, thus an aunt of Mr. W. D. Armstrong (later M.L.A.
          and Speaker of the Legislative Assembly), of Adair, near
          Gatton, and he raised a big family of sons and daughters, all
          of whom I knew as youngsters.
         
          In the days when King was Speaker and I editor of the
          “Observer,” I was often a guest at Ivy Lodge, Toowong –
          Toowong was the fashionable suburb of those days. We had many
          jolly dances, and the family was musically inclined. On one
          occasion a very fine light baritone appeared, well trained and
          an artist. It was Lawford, a barrister, who had married one of
          the charming daughters of W. L. G. Drew, C.M.G., of Toowong, a
          sister of Mrs. J. O’N. Brenan, and of Mrs. (Major-General)
          Jackson, of the Royal Artillery.
         
          To get back to H. E. King –we were room mates for a
          time, but he did most of his work at home. King was a very
          polished and trenchant writer, but he did not talk much. In
          later years, and when over 60, he went for the Bar, passed
          with flying colours, and became a Crown Prosecutor. One of his
          sons became a journalist and did remarkably well in Brisbane
          and elsewhere. He was, I believe, formerly a partner in the
          Brisbane “Sunday Sun.”
         
          Francis Adams was for quite a long time one of the
          regular leader writers. He was a son of Mrs. Leith Adams, the
          English novelist, and before coming to Australia had published
          some rather striking essays and verse. The essays were very
          fine, but with a certain bitterness of spirit in them.
         
          Adams was a consumptive, and had a grievance against
          fate, which was often noticeable in his work. When in Brisbane
          he did a lot of verse writing, and published a couple of
          volumes. Some of the work was repulsive, some was delightful.
          Adams had an affectation with his verse. He would not have a
          capital for the initial letter of a line unless the preceding
          line closed with a full point. And on occasions, to show his
          unconventionality, he would have the Deity put with a little
          “g”.
         
          Adams was for a long time associated with Gresley
          Lukin, William Lane, and J. G. Drake, on the old “Boomerang,”
          a very bright, though truculent, paper, which had Monty Scott,
          and later, Cecil Gasking, as artists.
         
          Adams was a very brilliant man, and some of his
          “Courier” leaders were wonderful evidences of scholarly
          English and sustained energy. His strongest point was in the
          personal leader. Poor Adams! His health went from bad to
          worse. Years before we knew him on the “Courier” he had lost
          his wife, and married again to an Australian girl, a nurse –
          tall, strong, capable.
         
          The end of things for the handsome, brown-bearded
          Englishman was tragedy. He became very bad indeed – both lungs
          and throat affected – and he suffered very much. One night,
          late, he was having a bad time – choking, agonized.  Yet his will was
          indomitable. He said to his wife, “Give me the revolver.”
         
          She gave it to him and turned away. There was a sharp,
          stinging report, for Adams had put the revolver to his head
          and fired. His wife turned to him, took the revolver away,
          composed his limbs, sponged his fatal wound, sent for the
          doctor, and the doctor sent for the police.
The circumstances as I relate them were published at the time. Some blamed Mrs. Adams, some praised her. Those who praised her knew how greatly generous she had been, nursing the sick man with infinite tenderness, but always subject to his intensely masterful nature. Pace! Francis Adams. Hw rote his own epitaph, which, as closely as I can remember, ran:-
“Bury me
            with clenched hands and eyes open wide,
In storm
            and trouble I lived; in trouble and storm I died.”
         
          William Lane did occasional leaders for the “Courier,”
          but the bulk of his work was contributing sketchy articles and
          notes upon Labour ideals. He was a vivid and effective writer,
          though he was obviously a visionary, and his work was
          sometimes over-sentimentalised. Yet there was no mistake as to
          his earnestness. I had almost said fanaticism. And, as is so
          often the case, he was intolerant to a degree, and any
          condition of economic or social affairs which did not
          harmonise with his view was violently condemned.
         
          One recognises that reformers have often been
          fanatical, but quite as much good has been done in the world
          by solid and temperate reasoning as by strenuous and bitter
          advocacy.
         
          To speak of William Lane in his days of the Press in
          Queensland would have had an affected sound. It was always
          “Billy” Lane. He was a violent “dry” in the matter of liquor
          traffic, and a most violent pacifist. His reading was fairly
          wide on economic subjects, but he had very little knowledge of
          contemporary literature.
         
          From the “Boomerang” he went to the newly-established
          “Worker,” which was mainly his conception, and certainly was
          founded in the literary sense by him. He wrote always under a
          pen name of “John Miller,” yet his identity eventually leaked
          out, and in the shearers’ huts in the West, on mustering camps
          and at those little meetings of “billabong whalers” where two
          or three were gathered together, the name of “Billy” Lane was
          reverenced.
         
          In the so-called Labour movement – the movement which
          his genius really brought into being – one never really hears
          his name. If the Trades Hall does not bar monuments there
          should be something there to educate the young to a knowledge
          of the real Moses of Labour in politics in Queensland.
         
          It may seem queer to outsiders that the promoter and
          leader of the New Australia settlement in Paraguay was a
          former leader writer and contributor to the “Courier.”
         
          It is not proposed to go into the history of this
          visionary Eden in South America, but just to mention a few of
          the points connected with it which were discussed by Lane in
          the “Courier” office.
         
          He had an intense faith in human nature, in the
          glorious gospel of mateship – not as we know those things
          today, but as they would be existent in a communal settlement
          where nothing was known of business competition, the struggle
          for food and shelter, and the cursed lust of gold.
         
          The “tall straight men of the West” the “Brave-eyed,
          deep-bosomed women of Australia” were to build up an ideal
          community in a land where there would be no taint of
          selfishness. The difficulties were pointed out over and over
          again, but Lane was intolerant even of the most friendly
          criticism. His was the glowing faith, the indomitable spirit.
          Now, apart from the general difficulties of pulling through a
          scheme of the kind with a purely secular basis, Lane was not
          the man for the job. Naturally he was a despot, just as Lenin
          was, and Trotsky.
         
          He had no experience of handling men. With a battalion
          of trained Australian soldiers, with all their fine sense of
          discipline, he would have had a mutiny in a week. And when he
          was personally known all the glamour of “John Miller” (his pen
          name) and of “Billy” Lane disappeared.
         
          He was rather small and badly crippled. His tone was
          always aggressive. It was another case of Caesar or nothing.
          Well we know what happened.
         
          Lane left Australia, and founded Cosme Colony, and then
          sick of it all, and probably disillusioned, he came out to New
          Zealand, and again earned good money on a capitalist paper.
          And in New Zealand he died.
         
          As I have said, he was intensely earnest; he dreamed
          his dreams up in the old “Courier” building, where Phillips
          and Sons, auctioneers, are now established, and he woke to
          find them dreams on the inhospitable Paraguayan settlements.
         
          P. J. Macnamara who had ventured on a “Bulletin” in
          Brisbane and had for a time been Editor of the “Observer” was
          one of Lane’s first fleeters in the Royal Oak for Paraguay,
          but soon had his fill of Communism and Socialism and all the
          other isms except patriotism, for he came back to Queensland a
          devoted Australian, an out and out Britisher, and an
          individualist of the most pronounced type.
         
          He went to Nanango ultimately, established a prosperous
          little paper there, bought an hotel, built a beautiful hall,
          and generally took on an air of affluence.
         
          I last saw him at the old Burnett town, and we had a
          very pleasant day together. He compared the conditions of the
          workers there and at Yarraman with the best that could be
          given in Paraguay, even had Lane realised all that he dreamed.
         
          His conclusion was characteristic: “Communists should
          find a congenial sphere in a black’s camp or at Woogaroo.
                   
          In 1881, the Johnsonian Club had its home in the Belle
          Vue cottage adjoining Belle Vue Hotel.
         
          Once a month we had a supper, which was always an
          absolute delight. After supper we smoked our clays, the long
          churchwardens, with a jar of tobacco on the table free to all.
         
          Brunton Stephens, Carl Feilberg, Richard Newton, John
          Flood, “Bobby” Byrnes (whose Christian names ere John Edgar),
          A. J. Carter, Horace Earl, and other men of splendid
          comradeship and genius would be there, and we youngsters
          regarded them as veritable Gamaliels at whose feet we sat and
          drew in wisdom.
         
          There were many others, of course – artists like
          Clarke, lawyers like George Paul, and Granville Miller, and
          literary doctors like K. I. O’Doherty and Lyons; and the whole
          atmosphere was full of mental stimulation.
         
          But the literary, artistic, and scientific sides of
          things were not forgotten.
         
          The most delightful night that I spent at the
          Johnsonian was after the move into Elizabeth Street, and on
          the occasion of Brunton Stephens reading from manuscript his
          new poem, “Angela.” It was a long poem, and the motif was the
          love between a devoutly Christian maid and a chivalrous man
          who was an agnostic.
         
          I remember some of the poem- a sad and impassioned
          work. It has not been printed, so far as my remembrance goes,
          and no literary friend has been able to tell me what became of
          it. I do not know the poet’s family sufficiently well to ask
          questions of them. A mutual friend of Brunton Stephens and
          myself asked me about it in later years, another poet also
          sleeping the long sleep.
         
          He said: “Do you remember what happened to Burton’s
          translation of the Arabian Nights?” 
         
          My own impression was that Brunton Stephens destroyed
          the manuscript. Some people, however liberal they may be, or
          however doubting, have an aversion from disturbing the settled
          religious beliefs of others. 
         
          Brunton Stephens was intense in his spiritual sense,
          and that may have been a reason for the destruction of a poem
          of great beauty and depth of thought. He was hyper-sensitive
          in this regard for the spiritual leanings of others.
         
          The McIlwraith Government gained a majority in the 1879
          elections, ousting the Government at the head of which was Mr.
          John Douglas.
         
          The colleagues of Mr. Douglas in various offices, and
          with changes from one department to the other, included S. W.
          Griffith, J. F. Garrick, J. R. Dickson – all of whom were
          raised in later days to knighthood – R. M. Stewart, William
          Miles, Geo. Thorn, Peter McLean, and Charles Stuart Mein.
         
          Of these I knew all very well, save Mr. Stewart, though
          they were not in office when I came to Brisbane in 1881.
         
          To Mr. Douglas reference was made in an earlier page.
          As then said, he was more of a statesman than a politician,
          and, though he could put up a good fight when he thought the
          occasion demanded it, he was always more concerned in the
          welfare of the country than in a small party advantage.
         
          S. W. Griffith was tall and spare, and he wore a long
          brown beard. The whole of the Douglas ministry was bearded.
          That was a fashion of the day.
         
          Nor had we got to the vulgarity and the petty
          mindedness which centred its zest for jocularity on a man’s
          personal appearance.
         
          Sir S. W. Griffith in my opinion was the greatest of
          the public men of the country, though not as a party
          politician.
         
          Sir J. F. Garrick was a brilliant lawyer, a well set
          up, handsome man, cultured, and of great personal charm He was
          a remarkably fine speaker, with a fine, ringing voice.
         
          Later, when he was Agent-General for Queensland, I saw
          a good deal of him, and knew more of his wonderfully
          sympathetic nature.
         
          Lovers of horseflesh will remember how sometimes he
          drove up to Parliament House with Mrs. and Miss Garrick in a
          covered phaeton and a spanking pair of bays.
         
          William Miles was the Jack Blunt of the Cabinet; a
          pastoralist, a strong man in financial matters, and to him was
          credited the origin of the £10,000,000 loan and the
          construction of the Cairns railway. Mr. Miles was one of the
          promoters also of the Royal Bank of Queensland.
         
          He had as a son-in-law Mr. Herbert Hunter, of Victoria
          Downs, the builder of Stanley Hall, near Clayfield, who was a
          director of the Royal Bank, and the owner of some first-class
          racehorses.
         
          Mr. Miles was the open enemy of McIlwraith and Palmer-
          not a vindictive enemy by any means, but a fighter.
         
          Probably it was a similarity of temperament which kept
          these fine old Queenslanders so far apart.
         
          Then there was James R. Dickson, later a Premier of
          Queensland, and our first member of the Federal Cabinet. Mr.
          Dickson (afterwards Sir James R. Dickson) was rather
          sententious in manner, but very capable, very courteous, and
          always the good friend of newspaper men.
         
          He made his home on the heights just beyond Breakfast
          Creek, a charming stone house known as Toorak, and from which
          Toorak Hill takes its name.
         
          Mr. Fred Dickson, Crown Prosecutor, is a son of Sir
          James.
         
          George Thorn had been Premier from June 5 to March 8,
          1877. He graduated from Sydney University, where he had a
          distinguished career, and was a fine Latin scholar. Virgil was
          to him not only a great poet, but an agricultural authority.
          The “Bucolics” he specially admired, and would declaim page
          after page with more zest than he ever put into a political
          speech. George Thorn was very capable, but he was not taken
          altogether seriously, because he would not take himself
          seriously.
         
          Peter McLean was an earnest Scot, a Logan River farmer,
          a great reader, and the dominant star in the temperance
          firmament. Later he became Under Secretary for Agriculture,
          and did the State good service. He was a particularly good
          debater.
         
          Last on the list is Charles Stuart Mein, a well-known
          solicitor, and a Lieutenant-Colonel in the Defence Force. He
          was in later years raised to the Supreme Court Bench, and was
          a wise and capable judge. 
All of the
          Douglas Ministry are sleeping the long sleep, the last to go
          being Mr. Peter McLean – good, hearty, and hardy Scot.
The party
          cemented up from more or less antithetical elements by Sir
          Thomas McIlwraith – who was plain Mr. McIlwraith then – gained
          a considerable victory, and took office in January, 1879. The
          party went to the country under a magnetic leadership, as well
          as with a popular programme.
McIlwraith
          was a Scottish engineer who came to Australia in connection
          with the railway contracts and bridge building of Peto,
          Brassey and Betts. The Brassey of the firm afterwards was Lord
          Brassey.     
          
McIlwraith
          became interested in pastoral properties, and was socially
          very popular. He was big and florid, and pictures in 1881
          showed that a few years earlier he had attended a fancy dress
          ball as “The Maranoa Baby,” with cape and long robe and the
          bottle usual with infants. It was a great joke.
A salient of his policy was borrowing for reproductive works, such as railways and harbours. It may be explained that the policy of what was termed the Liberal Ministry in the matter of railway building finance, was to proclaim reserves, under the Railway Reserves Act, and to sell blocks, alternately or otherwise, devoting the receipts to construction.
The
          McIlwraith alternative scheme was to borrow money, build the
          railways, and then sell the land. The idea caught the popular
          fancy, and especially when it was backed by a popular proposal
          to borrow £3,000,000 on the London market. The figure was
          sensational at the time, for we had not then become accustomed
          to financial plunging, laying up burdens by way of taxation to
          pay interest, and taking away from industrial production a
          very big proportion of the population to join the great army
          employed at “the Government stroke.”
         
          I had heard John Murtagh Macrossan expound the policy
          in Cooktown, and it struck me as likely to be good for a young
          country. It certainly was for a time, but the germ of
          borrowing has been ever since an acute influence in public
          affairs.
The general
          trend of McIlwraith’s mind was to big, dramatic methods of
          development. He was obsessed by the glamour of Sir John
          Macdonald’s policy in Canada, though the Queensland movement
          came along rather earlier than the letting of the contract for
          the new Canadian-Pacific railway, which was in May, 1881.
The
          development was towards land-grant railways, and chiefly the
          Transcontinental railway, north and south in Qld.
But
          McIlwraith was not the father in Queensland of the land grant
          railway idea. The first public move was by John Douglas about
          a year after he had left responsible public life.
In 1881,
          McIlwraith had a very strong team; men of affairs, capable in
          their way, and very big men in the public eye. His right hand
          man was Sir Arthur Palmer, with whom he was connected by
          marriage. They were married to two of the Mosman sisters –
          Lady Palmer was slight, dark, and very reserved, yet her
          intimates spoke of her always as a very sweet woman. Lady
          McIlwraith was robust, cheery, a delightful hostess, and very
          fond of the brighter side of life.
But that is
          a digression, Sir Arthur Palmer had been Premier in 1870-74 of
          a pastoralist Government, and McIlwraith had been Secretary of
          Works and Mines in the Macalister Ministry, January to
          October, 1874.
Arthur
          Hunter Palmer was of Irish birth, and he was soon after his
          arrival in Australia superintendent of the Dangar stations in
          New South Wales.
He was
          masterful, quick to wrath, easily appeased, and those who knew
          him best said he had a heart of gold. He was a capable and
          conscientious administrator, and gave to Queensland many years
          of devoted service. He settled down at a charming home, Easton
          Gray, Toowong, and was a familiar figure for years on the
          River Road with his smart phaeton and speedy pair of ponies.
He was a
          pastoralist of the purest Merino. He closed his political
          career as President of the Legislative Council. No man was
          more familiarly known in politics; and his blunt, brusque way
          came to be regarded as a matter of course.
On one
          occasion I heard him give a well deserved rebuke to a number
          of his guests – while he was Lieutenant Governor – at a
          Queen’s birthday ball. During the supper, and just before Sir
          Arthur Palmer rose to propose the toast of “Her Majesty the
          Queen,” a number of the guests rose, and noisily left the
          supper room to dance some “extras.” It was a flagrantly
          ill-mannered thing to do, but probably was attributable to
          want of knowledge of the proprieties.
Sir Arthur
          let out with characteristic 
          frankness, and vainly Lady Palmer sought to quell the
          storm. The Lieutenant – Governor had his say, and it was just
          as well. He had the sympathy and support of the people
          generally. Next day a few of the offenders called at
          Government House, and sincerely apologised.
“Well,”
          said the Lieutenant-Governor, “I didn’t know you were in it,
          but this I will say, that to call and apologise is a dam
          decent thing to do.”
Sir Arthur
          Palmer on another occasion, and with less justification
          perhaps, appeared as a censor morum.
A very fine
          distinguished actress was to appear at the Theatre Royal in
          Dumas’ play of “The Lady of the Camellias.”
Our
          Lieutenant Governor had heard of the play and decided that it
          was “nasty”; so under orders, his son and A.D.C., Willie
          Palmer, wrote declining the vice-regal patronage, and giving a
          frank reason. The letter halted a little grammatically, and
          the leading man at the theatre read it out to the audience.
The episode
          created a laugh; but the letter, in its sense, was
          characteristic. Sir Arthur Palmer, rough of speech as he
          sometimes was, would not tolerate anything which he deemed
          indecent in literature or art.
Which
          reminds me that on the occasion of a big exhibition in
          Brisbane certain beautiful specimens of French statuary were
          sent through the instrumentality of the secretary, Mr. Jules
          Joubert.
The works
          were more French than a French bean, and shocked some of the
          people on the Exhibition Committee.
It was said
          that in deference to the very forcibly expressed views of Sir
          Arthur, little calico coulottes were bestowed on the pale,
          unconscious marble. I cannot vouch for the truth of the whole
          of the story. These little incidents illustrate one side of
          the character of the man who was so conspicuous a figure in
          our public life, so great a pioneer, so earnest and clean
          handed a worker. 
Sir Arthur
          Palmer was at heart a Puritan, and who is there of us big
          enough to throw a flippant word at his memory? Not I, for one.
          Why are the memories of great men such as he not perpetuated
          in our public places?
The first
          Minister for Justice with McIlwraith was John Malbon Thompson,
          an Ipswich solicitor, but he retired after about four months.
          Mr. Thompson was punctilious, courteous, and much esteemed. He
          had served as Lands Minister in the Palmer Government,
          1870-73. I did not know him personally.
He was
          succeeded by Mr. Ratcliffe Pring Q.C., afterwards Mr. Justice
          Pring, under the title of Attorney-General. Pring was a
          brilliant lawyer, with lots of Parliamentary experience, for
          he had been Attorney General in the Mackenzie Ministry in 1867
          and in the Lilley Ministry in 1869. He was a fighter, and a
          very successful criminal law advocate. He went to the Supreme
          Court Bench before my arrival in Brisbane.
I knew him,
          but not very well, and our private talks were mainly about
          horses. He had been the owner of some pretty good racing
          stuff, and usually rode about Brisbane on a good sort of
          roadster, a black about 15 hands being his best. 
Mrs. A. V.
          Drury was a sister of Mr. Pring. On his elevation to the Bench
          he was succeeded as Attorney General by Mr. Henry Rogers Beor,
          but that was before my time in Brisbane.
Two men who
          were to play important parts in the Australian judiciary were
          in succession Attorneys General in the McIlwraith Government –
          Pope Alexander Cooper, later Sir Pope, the Chief Justice of
          Queensland; and Mr. Charles Edward Chubb, later Mr, Justice
          Chubb, of the Supreme Court.
I had met
          them both in the North when they were on circuit.
Cooper was
          born in New South Wales, had a distinguished school and
          University career, and went to the Bar in England. He was a
          nephew of Fred. Cooper, also a barrister, who was member for
          Cook in our Legislative Assembly.
Pope Cooper
          succeeded Beor as member for Bowen. He was not at all keen on
          politics, though he did very well in Parliament, and as
          Attorney General having first call on the Supreme Court
          vacancy, he took it, and did much better on the Bench than was
          expected. He was much interested in art, and somewhat in
          music. His wife, who predeceased him by a good many years, was
          a very fine musician, and published some charming songs with
          her own words and music.
On a few
          occasions Mrs. Pope Cooper did musical notices for the
          “Observer” when I edited it as a morning paper, and notably
          one very fine article on the Montague- Turner Opera Co.
Mr. Justice
          Chubb, now retired, had always literary tastes, and knew a
          good picture. His father, a well-known solicitor, was a
          playwright and poet, with an inclination to the humorous.
Succeeding
          Pope Cooper for Bowen, Mr. C. E. Chubb was a success in
          Parliament. He was an excellent debater, and had the very warm
          respect in the Assembly of the severe and somewhat bitter
          Griffith Opposition. He was sincere and tolerant and soon
          showed the qualities which made his appointment to the Bench
          later on a very popular one. In his quiet sober way he had
          quite a fund of whimsical humour, and it was said of him that
          in his younger days he was never at a loss for a botanical or
          Latin name for a plant.
“Of
          course,” said Frederick Manson Bailey, the Government
          Botanist, “you may call a plant whatever you like, and so long
          as people do not understand they are quite satisfied.”
Mr. Justice
          Chubb has retired from the bench after a long and very
          honourable service. He was born and schooled in England, but
          he has been a warm friend of his adopted State.
Mrs. Chubb,
          who died some years ago, was a daughter of that very fine
          Queenslander, Sheriff McArthur, of the Northern Supreme Court.
Charlie
          Hardie Buzacott was Postmaster-General in the first McIlwraith
          Government, and certainly, was the father of the Divisional
          Boards Act, which gave a remarkably good system of
          decentralization within the State. He remained in office for
          over a year, and then found his task as managing proprietor of
          the Brisbane Newspaper Co. demanded the whole of his time.
It was
          remarkable that though Mr. Buzacott had in ordinary
          conversation an impediment in his speech he was quite fluent
          when on the platform or in Parliament.
He was
          succeeded by Boyd Dunlop Morehead, who was Premier in 1888.
Morehead as
          a wag – bright and really witty. On an occasion the law firm
          of Little and Browne (late Little, Browne and Ruthning) had
          done some work for the Government, and presented an account,
          which was certainly long and considered “pretty stiff.” Some
          talk was indulged in as to the capacity of lawyers. A few days
          later a Birds protection Bill was going through Parliament,
          and some one asked: “What is your definition of a snipe?”
Morehead
          rapped back, “A little brown bird with a very long bill!”
The after
          Morehead came F. T. Gregory, on the of the Gregory brothers,
          so well known as explorers.
He was a
          surveyor, a man of much ability, but rather overshadowed by
          his brother, A. C. afterwards Sir A. C. Gregory.
Macrossan
          and Perkins I have referred to in a previous chapter. 
Albert
          Norton succeeded Macrossan as Minister for Mines and Works.
As already
          stated Mr. John Douglas was the first in Queensland to bring
          prominently to notice the question of land grant railways. The
          system later was bitterly opposed by S. W. Griffith, who had
          succeeded Mr. Douglas as leader of what was recognised as the
          Liberal or Radical Party; but Douglas was always favourable to
          it.
Of course,
          when McIlwraith introduced his big scheme, termed by one of
          its leading active opponents, Mr. H. Hardacre (present member
          of the Land Court), “the gridiron scheme,” things had
          developed rather unfavourably in Canada. The scandals
          associated with the name of Sir John Macdonald (who was
          absolutely cleared by a Royal Commission) gave arguments
          against the “big syndicate” methods.
It was on
          February 4, 1881, that John Douglas called a meeting in
          Brisbane to consider the land grant railway question. It was
          said then that American capital was available and that a Mr.
          McClure, who was in Sydney, was prepared to undertake to
          finance a scheme.
Mr. Douglas
          suggested as a first proposition a line to Cunnamulla, which
          would open up the country and preserve the South-western trade
          to Brisbane. The scheme would be under what was known as the
          Railway Companies Preliminary Act, which contemplated
          alternative offers and conditions.
Mr. Douglas
          explained that a line of 500 miles would require from a
          company a capital of £500,000, with £50,000 paid up.
The company
          would then issue stock bearing interest, and the purchasers of
          the stock would then have the option of continuing to receive
          interest, taking land as collateral security, or of converting
          the stock into land.
The
          “Courier” pointed out that there was no definite scheme, but
          Mr. Buzacott had favoured the land grant system at the
          conference, and mentioned that lines could be built at £2100
          per mile.
He saw no
          reason why land grant lines should not be constructed right
          through the country.
Mr. Gresley
          Lukin, it may be mentioned, had been agitating the question in
          Melbourne, but he favoured a line opening up the country
          explored by the “Queenslander” expedition – Favenc and Briggs
          – and this agitation was really the genesis of the definite
          Transcontinental Railway, from the terminus at the Queensland
          Central Railway to Point Parker.
It may be
          observed that had the railways been built on the land grant
          system, Queensland would have had only a tithe of her present
          public debt, and the land would still have been there for the
          purposes of taxation.
And also,
          there would have been much closer settlement in the past 35
          years over a great part of the State. Did we make a mistake
          when we loaded up the people generally with taxes, and as it
          seems for all time, by borrowing money for railway building?
It may be
          observed that the idea of John Douglas was not to leave the
          workings of the railways to a private company, but to allow
          the company to build the lines and take land as payment The
          idea would shock the perpetual lease advocates, but they may
          not be quite so wise as they believe. At any rate our interest
          bills and our worry over conversion loans are not dreams.
In 1881 the
          Duke of Manchester visited Queensland, and every one hastened
          to do him honour, to give him a hearty welcome. The Duke
          enjoyed his visit to the country places, he spied out
          land-grant railway matters, and became interested in some
          pastoral properties.
He was a
          stranger, and we “took him in.” One story is told of his
          inspection of a far West property, where there was a charming
          host and a rally of the host’s pals, all real good sorts. The
          place was sparsely stocked, but the books didn’t show that,
          and as the Duke was taken out to see the cattle little mobs
          were deftly moved from place to place, and really Wingeroo, or
          whatever was the name of the run, seemed to carry about 50
          head to the mile.
Once the
          Duke stopped and said: “Mr. Blank, these cattle are
          wonderfully alike.”
         
          “Just a matter of breeding, your Grace,” was the ready
          reply. “We breed from the best Shorthorn strains in the
          country, and the stock varies little.” It is related that the
          cattle were “blacks, browns and brindles” and all other
          colours. I fancy the Duke did not buy the run.
At another
          place he met R. W. Stuart, “Dick” Stuart, noted as an artist,
          horseman, and rough rider. Stuart had a few quiet bullocks,
          and on a camp to show how well cared for the cattle were, he
          caught an occasional beast and mounted it. On another
          occasion, to make up a four-in-hand team for a short run with
          the Duke, Stuart put a bullock in near side on the pole.
Another
          story of the Duke was told me at Roma in the days when Mount
          Abundance was so hospitable a centre and “Jock” Robertson was
          cock-of-the-walk.
Bridget was
          pressed into the service as housemaid and to wait at the
          table. She was very good, but a wee bit rough. It was
          explained to her very carefully, “Now Bridget, before you ask
          the Duke anything you must say ‘Your Grace’
At table
          Bridget was handing round vegetables, and when she came to the
          Duke she said, “For what we are about to receive, etc will you
          have a spud?”