TRUTH, DECEMBER 15, 1907
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
are the Kings, and where the rest,
Of those who once the world possessed?”
In the centre of all the Paddington cemeteries stands
that devoted to the Roman Catholics of a past generation.
It is said to be still the only Catholic cemetery
consecrated in Queensland. This means that it was all
consecrated at one time. The usual custom is to consecrate
each new grave. The ceremony was performed in the year 1858,
by Archbishop Polding, of Sydney, one of the earliest and
ablest of the Roman Catholic prelates in Australian history.
The ceremony was solemn and impressive, and there was a great
gathering of the Catholic people. The cemetery in those days
was merely a patch of ordinary forest, covered by coarse
grass, bushes and trees. The Archbishop’s gold Pectoral Cross
fell off his breast into the grass, and no one saw it fall.
When the loss was discovered, they searched for it in vain. An
advertisement appeared in the “Courier” offering £5 reward,
but there was no response. The cross was regarded as lost
beyond recall, and superstitious people considered the loss an
evil omen for the new cemetery. No finder appeared, and no
emaciated, conscience stricken wallaby hopped along with it as
did the jackdaw of Rheims with the Cardinal’s ring.
Then came a remarkable series of events. A man, whose
name is forgotten, came out as an emigrant cook, on board a
vessel called the Alfred. He was one of the spectators at the
consecration of the cemetery. A few weeks afterwards, whilst
on board the steamer, Bredalbane, at the Present Queen’s
Wharf, he fell overboard and drowned. When the authorities
opened his clothing box, there, lo and behold, lying on top,
was the Archbishop’s lost cross. He had known it was a
valuable article of solid gold, and was waiting to get a
bigger price than the £5 reward. Of course, every good
Catholic firmly believed that God had drowned that man for his
sacrilegious appropriation of the cross! There must be a
divine judgment in such cases. We can recall a man who stole a
priest’s horse, and three months afterwards he became a member
of the Queensland Parliament. This shows that no man can
appropriate sacred property without some awful fate overtaking
We were on a visit to Cunnamulla seven years ago, when
some impious ruffian stole £3 / 15s out of Father O’Sullivan’s
room in the Catholic Church. The genial priest assured us that
the man would most certainly be struck down by lightning.
But that is a digression. There were many graves in the
catholic cemetery before it was consecrated by Archbishop
Polding (ancient text missing)
(ancient text missing)
Louis Schneider was a saddler who
died on April 27, 1868, aged 30. His widow, Maria Jane,
afterwards married Joseph Baines, and became Mayoress of
Brisbane. When Baines died she married a contractor named
Ryan, who built the Roman Catholic Church at Kangaroo Point
and the Palace Hotel at South Brisbane. The lady had then a
German, an English, and an Irish husband. Perhaps she was
solving some great ethnological problem, or was like the Irish
bigamist who was proved to have married six wives, and
explained to the judge that “he was merely trying to get a
good one!” She is still in robust health, drives out daily,
and owns the Pineapple Hotel.
Mrs. Sybella Clune died in Margaret Street on June 11,
1863. The headstone was erected by her only surviving
daughter, a Mrs. Cameron, who was afterwards lost in the Fiery
Star, which was burned at sea on Good Friday. Thomas M. Clune
died on April 10, 1853, aged 27, and the stone was erected by
John McCabe, who died in 1861, aged 53, was one of the
leading merchants of that time, and also owned a number of
teams. He also owned Queen’s Wharf, and a large area of South
Brisbane. His store was in George Street, at the corner of
Charlotte Street, opposite the old “Courier” office.
John McCabe and Jeremiah Daly were great chums, and in their
many visits to hotel parlors, McCabe’s toast was, “Here’s to
oor ainsells, and whaur will you get the like of us?” It is
clear from this that McCabe was a Scot. His toast was like the
Highlanders’ prayer, “Lord, send us a guid conceit o’
oorsels!” Of the Daly family we have much to say in a future
Jones who died on October 10, 1867, aged 49, was the wife of
John Jones, who kept the St. Patrick’s Tavern in Queen Street,
where Tronson’s shop is today. Old residents speak of her as a
fine specimen of a woman, and a great favourite.
Two children, one two years and the other four months,
died on December 3, 1864. Their parents were the once well
known Mr. And Mrs. Darragh of Kangaroo Point, an old time
honored family, for many years in the butchering and hotel
trades at the Point.
Catherine Sneyd, who died aged 46, on July 23, 1858,
was the wife of Samuel Sneyd, the first chief constable and
jailer in Brisbane. He was a Baptist and she was a Roman
Catholic. On the day of her funeral the service was to be
conducted by the Rev. Dean Signey who waited at the grave for
an hour after the appointed time, and then went home. When the
coffin arrived, the service had to be read by a layman, and
much strong feeling was shown for some times afterwards
through the absence of a qualified priest. Mrs. Sneyd had nine
children and on her grave is this verse:
religion that can give
pleasure while we live,
religion must supply,
comfort when we die.”
The Sneyds lived in a house in
Adelaide Street between the present Parcels Post and Finney
Isles corner, where was the first bougainvillea vine ever
grown in Queensland.
A few readers will remember a wild young Irishman named James McGowan who had a farm at Lytton and was killed off his horse on February 18, 1875, aged 29. There was nothing McGowan loved but a fight. He was always “blue moulded for want of a brain ” and would offer cheerfully offer to fight all hands, anywhere, at any time. On one occasion he took possession of a Methodist Church, and challenged the whole male congregation to mortal combat. The Methodists regarded James as a man possessed of devils, and fled. He was a fine type of fighting Irishman, and we mourn over the grave of that young warrior cut off untimely in his youth. We miss these fiery spirits at the peaceful elections of today. His sister, now dead, married Adam Fiebig, who still owns the old Crown hotel in George Street. Fiebig still has a great veneration for his dead wife.
James Cash, who died on December 15, 1870, aged 68, was
an old pioneer who was farming and timber getting at the Pine
River, where “Cash’s Crossing” is still a landmark in the
In the same grave is Mary McQuinney, his wife’s mother,
who died on May 20, 1870, and his daughter Mary Ann, wife of
Pat Hughes, who died on November 23, 1872, aged only 21. An
appalling number of young wives, under 26 years of age, died
in those early days, apparently from bad nursing, bad medical
attendance, or no attendance at all. Ignorant midwives have
filled many graves.
Under one stone is Patrick Mooney, a Tipperary man, who
died on September 20, 1851, aged 51, also his eldest daughter
Mary Scanlan, who died on April 6, 1873, aged 40, and James
Mooney, his eldest son, who died on August 31, 1873, aged 44.
Mooney was a fine specimen of a man, six feet four, who kept a
hotel at the corner of Russell and Stanley Streets, South
Brisbane. Mary Scanlan was the wife of Jeremiah Scanlan, who
kept the Queensland Hotel in Edward Street, about 25 yards
below the present Metropolitan, then kept by Mrs. Duncan.
Jerry was an old policeman from New South Wales. He did well
in Brisbane, and owned both the Queensland and Metropolitan
hotels. Opposite Jerry was the once fashionable Menzies
boarding-house, which still stands there, but the Menzies are
both dead. One daughter married Thomas Bryce, of the Bryce
Carrying Company, and another married West, the merchant, of
Townsville. One of Jerry’s nieces, a Miss Cuneen, married
Ferdinand Papi, an Italian, the present head teacher of the
Woolloongabba State School, and became mother of Bertram Papa,
the lawyer, and the fair Amy Papi, a name known in the social
A Daniel Tracey, who died on October 4, 1853, aged 55,
and his widow Catherine on September 3, 1871, were a couple of
fine people who lived in Margaret Street, and their daughters,
very handsome girls, all died young. One daughter, Mrs. Brown,
died on October 20, 1866, aged 30, and Ann on November 30,
1869 aged 22. The stone over the grave was erected by the
daughter Bridget, “in affectionate remembrance of her dear
parents and sisters.” She, too, had only a short life.
Alice Higham, (pronounced Hyam), who died on August 8,
1872, at the age of 80, was the wife of Higham, who was a
timber getter on the Tweed River in the early days. They both
came out in Governor Darling’s time. She was a grand old
woman, the soul of honesty and hospitality.
Christopher Weir, who died on July 23, 1873, aged 61,
was a cabman who once kept a hotel out beyond the Hospital, on
the Bowen Bridge Road. Michael Weir also kept the same hotel.
It was a great resort of the young bloods of those days, and
many a lively scene was enacted in that now forgotten house,
which has long ceased to exist.
We find that another cabman, still alive, the well
known Jack Sweeney, of the George Street stand, buried his
young wife Catherine, aged 25, and her infant son, on July 24,
1869. Sweeney was once a very smart policeman stationed at the
Towers, Ravenswood, and Cooktown.
Honora Thomas placed a stone over her husband, John
Thomas, who died on April 3, 1864. They kept an hotel in Queen
Street, where Alexander Stewart and Sons’ warehouse stands
today. The same house was kept as the “Donnybrook Hotel” by a
Mat Stewart, a very unusual name in hotel keeping. On the
grave of Thomas we find:
lost, not lost, but gone before,
land of peace and rest,
God for evermore,
to meet together blest.”
Widows as a rule, lack a sense of logic, or they would
not so often consign their departed husbands to where they
apparently meet with peace and rest for the first time. In
this case, too, the poetry is deplorably defective. It is the
kind of verse that is composed in a hurry while you wait.
Margaret, wife of Thomas Faulkner, died on January 18,
1869, aged 41. One of her grand daughters is the wife of Under
Secretary Brady, of the Works Department.
There is a handsome stone over the grave of Francis
Murphy, who died on August 15, 1872, but so far no information concerning him is
There is one peculiar inscription over the grave of a
young wife, named Janet Murphy, who was born at Grafton on
April 3, 1853, and died at Brisbane on November 18, 1872. She
was thus only 17 years and eight months old, and the stone
loving wife, a mother dear,
faithful friend lies buried here,
is great which we sustain,
Heaven we hope to meet again.”
There is said to have been a John Murphy for many years
a messenger in the Lands Office, where he was succeeded by
Gamble. Janet was the wife of a John Murphy.
An old military warrior is represented by Patrick John
Burke, of the 56th Queen’s Own Regiment. He died on
March 17, 1867, aged 80 years. Doubtless he did some hard
fighting in that in that famous old regiment.
Robert Eaton, who died on December 2, 1861, aged 62,
was a compositor on the “Courier,” at the corner of Charlotte
and George Streets. The old office is now a boarding-house.
What ghosts of old compositors must meander in silence through
the rooms when all the boarders are asleep! Eaton’s mother
followed him to the grave on April 2, 1874, aged 74.
Remarkable is the number of those whose age is the same as the
year of their death.
Joseph Brown, who died on January 29, 1868, aged only
33, was a drayman, and “a good, true man,” as an old colonist
describes him, who lived out at Teneriffe.
John Ede buried a child aged five on January 14, 1851.
Ede was a watchman in Queen Street. One son, Willie Ede, is
today a cabman at the Central Station, and one is a vanman.
Ellen Lonergan, who died on November 27, 1870, aged 25
(another at the fatal age), was wife of John Lonergan, still a
drayman in the Valley. His second wife was a Miss McIver,
sister of McIver, a well known blacksmith in the Valley today.
Letter to the Editor
In 1858 a man named Jerry Scanlan
kept the Surveyors Arms in Queen Street. It was between Albert
Street and Stewart and Hemmants’ warehouse. I knew Scanlan
when he was in the police in Warwick, also when in the Border
Police, under Dr. Simpson. The Surveyors’ Arms was a one story
wooden building. Scanlan was a saddler by trade. As I left
Brisbane in 1858, I can’t say what became of him.
Richard R. Ware,
25 York Parade, Spring Hill.
THE TRUTH DECEMBER 29, 1907
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
came, he went, like the Simoom,
harbinger of fate and gloom,
whose widely wasting breath,
cypress droops to death,
tree, still sad when others grief has fled,
constant mourner o’er the dead.”
Those unhappy types of men and women who rise in the
night to take a dose of medicine, and make the deadly mistake
of selecting the wrong bottle, are represented by John
Guilfoyle, who died on January 24, 1874, aged 27. He was a
compositor at the Government Printing Office, and the
headstone informs us that it is “ a tribute of respect to his
memory by the men of the Government Printing Office.” He was
only a young man, but was married, and his four year old son
had died on March 8, 1871. The father of John died on November
7, 1858, aged 41. He was a quarryman, who worked on the old
Kangaroo Point quarry, where the Naval Stores are today. The
son who died had risen from sleep, and instead of a bottle of
medicine prescribed by Dr. Bell, he got a bottle of carbolic
acid, drank some before the dreadful mistake was discovered,
and died a cruel death.
Even doctors fall victims to these fatal errors. Some
readers will remember Dr. Clark, who once practised in
Stanthorpe. He went to live in a New South Wales town, we
believe it was Gulgong, and one night he rose to get some
medicine, took the wrong bottle, and when his wife awoke in
the morning, he was lying dead beside her.
A John Meillon, who died on August 1, 1862, had a
brother Joseph Meillon, who was educated as a lawyer and in
1869, went to practice at Grafton on the Clarence River, the
other lawyer being George Foott, who had succeeded James
Lionel Michael, a well known literary man who was drowned in
front of his on house. Henry Kendall, the poet, was a clerk in
Michael’s office. Foott’s wife, his second wife, was the widow
of Boulanger, a name known to the music world as a brilliant
Sarah Jones, who died on October 10, 1867, aged 40, was
the wife of John Jones, who kept St. Patrick’s Tavern, in
There is a neat stone over Francis Murray, who died on
August 15, 1873, aged 37. He had a cabinet makers shop in
Queen Street, next to Paddy Mayne’s butcher’s shop, which
stood on the present site of the British Empire Hotel. Beside
Murray are his two girl children, Isabella Jane, died June 23,
1870, and Annie Maria died October 23, 1873, one three and one
sixteen months. Murray was once Mayor of Brisbane, was also
fairly well to do in cash, and advanced a considerable sum to
Sir Maurice O’Connell, who was unable to repay it and the
Government had to overcome the difficulty with a special
Paddy Mayne died in the backroom of that Queen Street
butcher’s shop, and Bishop O’Quinn and Joe Darragh, who was a
cousin of the Bishop, were with him when his will was being
made. Mrs. Mayne was supposed to be a Protestant, and Mayne
had a big powerful coachman, also a Protestant. When the will
was being made, Mrs. Mayne suspected that she was not
receiving due consideration, and she sent the coachman in to
remove the Bishop and Darragh, and removed they were. However
she had no reason to complain of her share in the will. She
afterwards gave the coachman a farm at Moggill, and conferred
an annuity on Tom Slaughter, the accountant. Both Mayne and
his wife were very good hearted liberal people, who did many
generous acts. It is a crying shame that Paddy had to confess
on his deathbed to a murder committed by him when much
younger, as the legacy it left his family proved to be
horrific. Mrs. Mayne was a fine specimen of a woman, and an
excellent wife and mother. She is said to have sent for a
priest when dying, and to have admitted that she was a
Near to the grave of Mayor Murray, is that of Elizabeth
Baines, first wife of another Mayor, the E. J. Baines of a
previous article. She died on March 3, 1863, aged 39.
A boy named William Costelloe, who died on May 11,
1861, aged 15, was the son of a man who had held a high
position in the Inland Customs’ Revenue Department of Ireland.
Eliza Quinn, widow of James Quinn, kept a hotel at
German Station. Quinn was formerly a clerk with George
Edmonstone, one of whose daughters married John Markwell.
Edmonstone was a Queen Street butcher, a genial, amiable, old
gentleman, who became a member of Parliament. The present
writer had many a chat with him from 1875 to 1877.
On January 1, 1865, D. H. O’Leary buried his infant son
Daniel Michael. Daniel senior was a son of Tom O’Leary, the
father of Jack O’Leary, for years clerk of the Cairns
Divisional Board, and now Traffic Manager on the Musgrave
Tramway Company’s line from Cairns to Harvey’s Creek, on the
Russell River. Jack’s mother, a dear old lady is still alive
and well, and a regular attendant at the Catholic Church in
Brisbane. The O’Leary family were mostly brunettes and Jack,
as every Cairns man knows, has a decidedly auburn tinge in his
Catherine Queely, who died on January 5, 1865, aged 16,
was the daughter of a shoemaker who came over from New South
Wales, and opened a shop in Albert Street, a few doors from
Queen Street. The daughter was a fine specimen of a girl, and
her death from typhoid fever nearly broke Queely’s heart. A
brother of Queely was killed out on the Dawson on the same day
as the 19 people were murdered by aboriginal attack on Horatio
Wills’ Cullin-La-ringo Station, on the Nogoa, October 17,
1861. We have stood over the grave in which 16 of the 19 were
In four fragments is the stone that stood over the
grave of Kate Agnes Hickey, who died on October 28, 1863.
Hickey was a resident of the Valley.
Richard Belford, who died on April 28, 1865, was once
editor of the “Courier,”, and afterwards editor of the “North
Australian,” the leading paper in Ipswich of the early days.
Bishop O’Quinn brought that paper to Brisbane, and it is
represented by the Catholic paper, “Australian” of the present
Daniel Lyons, who died in 1865, aged 60, was father of
Daniel Lyons, a saddler in Turbot Street in the early days,
and brother of James Mooney, a hotelkeeper in South Brisbane,
one of whose sisters became the wife of J. M. O’Keefe,
ex-M.L.A., for the Lockyer, a man likely to bound into the
aroma with a wild Hibernian war cry at any moment.
John Ahearn erected a neat stone over the grave of his
brother Denis Ahearn, a native of Donickmore, County Cork, who
died on February 12, 1875, aged 32, the fatal age of the
Ahearn families, as three of the men died at that age.
When Camille Desmoulins, of the French Revolution, was
before the revolutionary tribunal, and asked his name, he
replied, “I am the age of the ‘bon sans culotte,’ Jesus – an
age fatal to revolutionists!”
Apparently the age of 32 was as fatal to the Ahearns as
37 to the French patriots. These Ahearns, who were carpenters,
finally left for California. The Ahearn family mentioned in
the last article are still represented. Two of the girls
married two of the brothers of Cahill, the present
Commissioner of Police, and both of the brothers died. The
widow of one is now the wife of the well known and popular
hotelkeeper Denis O’Connor, who has given his name to
“O’Connor Boatshed,” and is an enthusiast in rowing and other
athletic circles. A brother of the sisters is now on Charters
The J. W. Buxton who once had a stationery and fancy
goods shop in Queen Street, and whose wife died on January 21,
1867, was a man of considerable means. He became infatuated
with an actress, and fled away with her, leaving a very fine
wife, who was immeasurably the superior of the actress in
physique, intelligence and character. Why a man sometimes
deserts a splendid woman for a worthless specimen, or a woman
forsakes a splendid man for a contemptible weed, are two
conundrums beyond the reach of human intelligence.
Jessie Lamont, a widow, died on April 3, 1866, aged 51.
The stone records:
comfort Christians when your friends,
better being never ends,
inconsolable as those
no hope is given?
the messenger of peace,
calls the soul to Heaven.”
the 53rd Paraphrase).
One of the daughters, Marion Flora, died on May 23,
1873, aged only 29. She was the wife of James Chapman, father
of Ebenezer Chapman, now a builder in Fortitude Valley. Jessie
Lamont lies in the Presbyterian ground, near to Margaret
Elizabeth Bethune, wife of David Lachlan Brown, head of the
firm of D. L. Brown and Co. He died not long ago in Toowoomba,
and his first wife died on April 29, 1869, aged 33, at
“Langlee Bank,” Bowen Bridge Road. The stone says:
“Thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
His second wife, still living, was a daughter of the Rev. George Wight, once Immigration Lecturer.
George Lindsay, described as “son of the late George
Lindsay, of Aberdeen,” died on April 20, 1873. He was an
elderly man, confidential clerk to John Bourne, who built the
Brisbane bridge of 1873.
Lindsay died in the year the bridge was opened. There
was a great demonstration at the opening, and Dr. Carr Boyd
wrote a long celebration poem in the “Courier,” over the “nom
de plume” of “Ralph de Peverial.” Boyd is represented today by his
youngest son, Gerald, who is in the Lands Office, and the
second son, known to the press as “Potjostler,” is in West
Australia. The eldest son David was a surveyor. His widow is
wife of the present Dr. Brown of Rockhampton. She was one of
several sisters, all handsome women, daughters of a Mr.
Ransome who was once C.P.S. at Goodna, and lived at Little
The Jeremiah Daly referred to before a s a chum of
merchant John McCabe, was father of the once well known
barrister and Crown Prosecutor, Tom Daly, one of whose sisters
was Judge Miller’s first wife. Another married the Hon. Sydney
Dick Melbourne, and one married a son of Christopher Newton,
head of the Sydney firm of that name. They were all fine
Buried somewhere in the catholic cemetery is a man
named Barrett, who died in 1867. Barrett had come out in the
last convict ship, which landed him at Sydney in 1840. That
ship was called the “Eden,” a facetious name for a convict
vessel. Barrett had revealed a conspiracy on board, and as a
reward he received a reprieve. After five years in Sydney and
Illawarra, he came to Moreton Bay, and joined a party of
timber getters on the Tweed. One of the party was a man named
Robert Cox, a victim of one of the most notorious murders in
Cox and Barrett came to Brisbane on a visit in March
1848, and stayed at Sutton’s Bush Commercial Hotel. On
Kangaroo Point, corner of Holman and Main Streets.
On Sunday night, March 26, Cox was murdered under
diabolical circumstances. His body was cut up and his head cut
off. The head was found by a dog, in a baker’s new oven, in a
building erected for John Campbell, father of the present
Amity Point Campbell. A man named George Cummins found the
trunk of the body on the mud foreshore of the river, where it
was left by the retreating tide. Parts of the body and three
shirts, soaked with blood, were found in a well. The cook at
Sutton’s Hotel was a man named William Fyfe, who was a friend
of Cox, who was staying with another friend, named Moseley.
Fyfe and Moseley, and a butcher named Lynch, were arrested,
but the final proceedings were taken against Fyfe only. The
enquiry lasted five days, and some remarkable evidence was
given, all reported in the “Courier” of that date. Fyfe was
committed for trial, sent to Sydney, tried and found guilty,
and hanged, protesting his innocence to the last.
He had written a long speech for the scaffold, but was
not allowed to deliver it, but the public heard it afterwards.
To The Editor, Truth,
Will you kindly correct the
enclosed paragraph, referring to the late J. T. Scanlan, of
whom I am the niece mentioned in your last edition of “Truth,”
wherein Mr. J. T. Scanlan is referred to as “an old
policeman.” Mr. J. T. Scanlan was a mining surveyor, many of
his plans, with his signature attached, being still in the
Lands Department Office, Brisbane. And he, with others of his
profession surveyed Sydney for its first water mains. He was
the proprietor for many years of the Queensland Hotel,
Brisbane, which is still remembered as being the rendezvous of
traveling surveyors, sea captains etc.
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
But rave not thus
a Sabbath song
Go up to
God so solemnly;
may feel no wrong,
sweet Lenore hath gone before,
hope, that flew beside,
thee wild for the dear child,
should have been thy bride,
the fair and debonaire,
so lowly lies
The life upon her
death upon her eyes;
still there upon her hair,
death within her yes.
Edgar Allan Poe’s “Lenore.”
The Church of England cemetery is on the slope of a ridge, on the south side of the Paddington cemeteries, enclosed with a paling fence, in a fair state of preservation.
far as examined the oldest grave dates back to 1847, when
Samuel Henry Copperthwaite was buried, on May 27. The most
recent graves are dated in 1875, so apparently all funerals
after that went to Toowong. Except on three or four graves the
lantana has been kept out, and the ground is clear. But there is
the same dismal spectacle of fallen and leaning and broken
stones, as in the other cemeteries. Evidently grass fires have
killed some of the trees. Among those that remain are a few
that date back to the start. There is a silky oak at least
three feet in diameter, and a fine grey ironbark very little
less. The others are Moreton Bay ash, blue gum, cypress pine,
and a few figs. The old road winding through the ground is
still clearly defined, though unused for over thirty years.
What a long line of hearses and sad processions passed along
that road, in the vanished years that saw so many “white robed
forms of friends long given, in agony to the earth and
heaven.” There must be thousands of dead in that graveyard,
since the burial of Miss Hill, Walter Hill’s daughter, in the
Toowong cemetery in 1871 up to the present day, that graveyard
has received 29,600 dead, representing a period of 26 years.
At Paddington, the Church of England ground received bodies
for 28 years. The graves are in rows over the whole area,
probably not more than one in fifty with a headstone.
Conspicuous here, as in other cemeteries, is the small number
of old people, the great number of children, and young men and
young women. The great majority are under 40.
On entering the gate, the eye is caught at once by three graves that call back many historic memories. A blue granite eight foot high monolith, the Egyptian symbol of the Supreme God, stands on the grave of Arthur Stuart Bernays, the eight month old child of Lewis Adolphus and Mary Bernays. This child died on May 16, 1865, or 42 years ago. The fact is recorded on a square of marble screwed on near the top of the monolith, which is a miniature of that Cleopatra’s Needle that stands 68½ feet high and weighs over 185 tons. As that was sculptured more than 1500 years before Cleopatra was born, it is not clear why it bears her name. Bernays, the father of that child of 1865, is the present Clerk of the Assembly, a position he has held since the first Parliament of Queensland opened, in the old convict built stone building in Queen Street, afterwards the Supreme Court.
We may marvel at the fact the L. A. Bernays has seen
all our Governments and their supporters come and go, and sat
and listened to their oratory – and is still alive! He is
probably immortal and will be sitting in the house a thousand
Close to the gate is one of the neatest and best kept
tombs in the cemetery. It bears the name of Medora Ann Little,
who died on February 27, 1872, aged 37. The Spanish name of
Medora was probably taken from the Medora of Byron’s
“Corsair.” Mrs. Little was the wife of the once well known
Crown Solicitor, Little, who tells us on the tomb that:
children rise up and called her blessed,
husband also and he praiseth her.”
We cannot improve on those old
eulogiums of the Hebrew prophets. They were eloquent and
expressive. Contrast this zenith of epitaph with the nadir on
that of the gravestone in Massachusetts, USA:
to the memory of Anthony Drake,
for peace and quietness sake,
was constantly scoldin’ and scoffin’,
sought for repose in a twelve dollar coffin.”
Or we may go to a graveyard in
classic Cambridge, and find the following:
lies the body of Mary Gwynne,
so very pure within,
cracked the shell of her earthly skin,
hatched herself a cherubim.”
It is remarkable that the British race, in Britain and
America, is responsible for the most ridiculous epitaphs on
record. No other race appears to have placed puns or sarcasms
on the graves of the dead. Who but a Yankee would record this
on a gravestone in Iowa:
this stone our baby lies,
neither cries nor hollers,
for one and forty days,
us forty dollars.”
And we go to a grave in Cheltenham
for a specimen of what the rustic chaw-bacon of England could
do on a headstone:
lies I and my two daughters,
by drinking Cheltenham waters;
had stuck to Epsom Salts,
shouldn’t be lying in these vaults.”
No such epitaphs are possible on
an Australian tombstone. Such a stone would be capsized, or
smashed, as being an insult to the dead.
After this digression, we return to an iron railing
enclosing two remarkable pioneers, prominent in early
Queensland. These graves have also been well kept. Here lies
Richard Jones, M.L.C., of Sydney, who died on November 6,
1852, aged 70. He was known to the public of that time as
“Merchant Jones,” a man who invested a lot of capital in
squatting in the first years of the Darling Downs. The first
sheep that ever came over the range, belonged to Jones. They
were brought through Cunningham’s Gap, in 1842, by a man named
Summerville, who was Superintendent for Jones. He took up
Tenthill and Helidon stations, and put the sheep there.
Another superintendent named Rogers, at the same time took up
Grantham station, and took there a flock of sheep owned by
George Mocatta, who took up Innes Plains on the Logan.
Writing in 1876, John Campbell, who took up Westbrook
in 1842, said, “I had resided for some months very quietly on
the Downs (1842), intent on getting my cattle broken into
their runs, when I was one day astonished at hearing a French
horn being blown, and looking out over the plain (Westbrook)
saw a single horseman approaching. Upon coming up he proved to
be Mr. Summerville, the superintendent for Mr. Richard Jones,
whose stock it appeared was on its way to what is now Helidon
That is the Richard Jones whose last sleep is in the
Buried beside him is John Stephen Ferriter, who died on
October 21, 1865, aged 63, another squatter of the early days.
Ferriter and Uhr were partners. One of these Uhrs was once
Sergeant-at-Arms in the Assembly. John Uhr was killed by the
blacks at Sandy Creek, near Gatton. Other Uhrs were officers
in the native police, and well known in the north especially
Darcy Uhr. Pioneering squatting was a different business from
squatting of today. The number of whites known to be killed by
blacks in the first ten years of settlement were 254. The
number of blacks killed by whites 254x
The number of blacks killed by whites 254x
When Rogers went to Grantham station, near the present
Laidley, he took possession of about 400 sheets of bark the
blacks had stripped for their own wet weather camps. These had
been taken off ironbark trees, after the rough outside was
knocked off. Rogers gave nothing in return, and Campbell said
that this act of mean robbery led to the murder of at least
seventeen white men, mostly shepherds.
Then the Sydney Government sent up a detachment of
soldiers, who were quartered at the foot of the range, to
protect dray traffic. The camp was long known as the
“Soldiers’ Barracks.” Those were days when John Kemp estimated
the fighting strength of the Helidon district tribes at twelve
hundred men. If one had only complete reminiscences of Richard
Jones and Stephen Ferriter, the two men side by side in the
Paddington cemetery, what an interesting picture they would
give us of those long vanished old, wild, rough days.
“Tell us ye dead!
of you in pity reveal the secret
Of what ye are, and what we dread to be!”
When Jones died he was member for the Stanley boroughs, in what is now Queensland, in the Legislative Council of New South Wales. He had been chairman of the Bank of New South Wales, Sydney. He died out at New Farm, and the body was brought by water to the Queen’s wharf, from whence a funeral procession of about 500 people followed it to the cemetery.
The chief mourners were Thomas Jones, J. S. Ferriter,
Daniel Peterson, and William Uhr.
Jones, who was a native of Wales, and came to Sydney in
1819, married in 1823, Mary Louisa Peterson, by whom he had
two sons and four daughters.
His daughter, Mary Australia, married Captain W. B.
O’Connell, Minister for Lands.
The daughter, Louisa, married R. R. Mackenzie, once
Ferriter’s widow, a tall, handsome woman, resided for
about 20 years in No. 2, Hodgson Terrace, with a maid, who
stayed beside her to the last.
The Uhr at
the funeral, was Ferriter’s partner.
There was one E. B. Uhr, J.P., a squatter at Wide Bay.
A writer of 1854, says of Ferriter:
“John Stephen Ferriter, R.N., was
the Agent for Immigration, and lived in a cottage adjacent to
the stone barracks between George and William Streets,
afterwards the Colonial Treasurers’ Office. He was somewhat
addicted to bad puns, but otherwise of a kind and gentle
Thomas Grenier, a youth of 17, who died on August 25, 1857, was the eldest son of Thomas and Mary Grenier, who kept a hotel at South Brisbane at that time. It was the chief resort of the squatters, and there was many a wild scene there. On one occasion some joker packed all the knives, spoons and forks from the breakfast table into a valise of old Captain Collins, who calmly rode away with them to the Logan, and got home before he discovered the contents.
In the meantime Grenier had the blacks’ camp searched,
and much suspicion fell upon innocent men, until choleric old
Collins walked in, and banged all the cutlery on the table,
with language that nearly set fire to the house.
The Grenier family owned much property in South
Brisbane, including Highgate Hill.
A 22 months old child of J. C. and Emily Vidgen, was
buried on March 25, 1866. The mother is also dead. She was the
first wife of the well known and much liked secretary of the
Brisbane Gas Company. She was a Lancashire girl, but they were
married in Scotland. Vidgen’s second wife was a Miss Mossop.
In the notice of Crown Solicitor, Robert Little, we
omitted to mention that his first wife was a Miss Geary,
daughter of old Captain Geary. His second was a Miss Bramston,
sister of Bramston, once Attorney General – 1870 –74. He also
held a seat for three years in Herbert’s first ministry.
Bramston and R. G. W. Herbert, our first Premier,
batched together in the house well known as “Herston,” near
the children’s hospital. The name was thus constructed. They
took the “Her” from Herbert, and the “Ston” from Bramston, and
made a blend of “Herston” out of the first and last syllables.
G. P. M. Murray, our ex-P.M. calls his house “Yarrum,” his own
Amongst those buried in that Church of England
cemetery, unknown and unrecorded, is a man whose name calls
back an episode of 1842. At that time, there was an Eaton Vale
station, on the Downs, a young Jackaroo named Barker, who in
after years became the Hon. Wm. Barker, of Tamrookum station,
on the Logan. An old man named Kelly and his wife and son,
were traveling as hawkers, and camped on the present site of
Leyburn, then taken up as a station by Pitt and Banifant. This
Pitt gave his name to the present Pittsworth, and one of his
daughters married the late Macdonald-Paterson.
Two men posing as shearers joined the hawking party. On
the second night out from Leyburn, these two persuaded young
Kelly to sleep at their fire, and shot him dead while he was
asleep, their intention being to kill old Kelly and his wife,
and take all the property. But old Kelly heard the shot, got
his gun and went over to the camp. The two scoundrels ran
away, and afterwards separated. One went towards the Clarence,
then called the “Big River,” and the other, after going nearly
to the Severn, doubled back to the Downs. He was a small dark
man with one eye, and his name was Selby. He went to Jimbour
woolshed, left there and went by Westbrook, on the way to the
main range. Having accidentally shot off one of his fingers,
he made for Rosewood station, to have his injury seen to by
Dr. Goodwin. Young Barker was one of the pursuers on his
track. Selby left Rosewood and went towards the Logan,
evidently making for the Clarence. The hutkeeper on Telemon
was a ticket-of-leave man, named Brown. Barker gave him a
description of Selby, and also told him there was a reward of
£100 for his capture, consequently Brown was on the lookout
for him. Two days afterwards, Selby walked up to the hut, and
Brown recognised him at once.
He acted as a genial host to Selby, while he sent an
aboriginal secretly for assistance. Selby was taken to
Maitland, tried and hanged, an act of justice due directly to
Barker and Brown. Brown died in 1856, in Brisbane, and lies in
the Paddington cemetery. He got the reward and a free pardon
for the capture of Selby.
Barker, and Murray-Prior, and C. R. Haly married three
sisters named Harper, all very handsome women. Prior’s wife
was the mother of Mrs. Campbell Praed, and Mrs. John Jardine.
To the Editor “Truth”
In your issue of 8th
instant, in “Bygone Brisbane,” you refer to the Paddington
cemetery and record the name of “John Randall,” November 31,
1873, first headmaster of the Normal School. If your scribe
had taken a little more trouble, he would have read “John Wood
Rendall,” and not “Randall.”
The man you refer to was the first
headmaster of the Normal School from Separation until his
death, and he had a great deal to do with moulding the
character of a heap of old Queenslanders and lost his life
through tolerance and conscientiousness. “Bible in State
Schools” is again in the air. My father, John Wood Rendall
suppressed, without authority from the then Board of
Education, a book of (up to that time) religious instruction,
not in accordance with the views of a considerable section of
the 500 odd parents of children then attending the Normal
School. His thought was every denomination had an hour to
devote to this, and there was a classroom set apart for any
parson or priest who liked to claim the privelege.
The Board of Education called my father to task, and as
a “Rendall” of “Rendall,” Orkney Islands, he stated he alone
was responsible for this act. Henry Palmer Abbott, then
general manager of the A.J.S. Bank, formally proposed he
should be dismissed, and Arthur Hunter Palmer slated Abbott as
he deserved to be slated.
My father went out to his home before Palmer had spoken
and that night he had brain fever and died, and I do think,
considering he was the first man in this State to make such a
stand, the truth ought to be recorded.
Joseph Hewitt Rendall.
JANUARY 12, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
‘We are no other than a moving row,
shadow shapes that come and go,
with the sun illumined lantern held,
midnight by the Master of the Show.
helpless pieces of the game he plays,
this chequer board of nights and days,
and thither moves, and checks, and stays,
by one back in the closet lays.
grave, which ought to have received a little more attention,
are Louisa Tully and her month old child Blanche.
She was the first wife of the late William Alcock
Tully, ex-Surveyor General, and eldest daughter of the late
Simeon Lord, of Eskdale station and son of Simeon Lord, one of
Sydney’s best known men seventy years ago. He was generally
known as “Merchant Lord.” The Eskdale Lords once lived in
Tasmania, where they had a station called Bona Vista, near
Avoca. Fred Lord, of Brisbane, some years M.L.A. for Stanley,
was born at Bona Vista, on November 8, 1841. The station was
once stuck up by two notorious bushrangers named Dalton and
Kelly. While they were inside the house, Constable Buckmaster
came onto the verandah. They fired through a glass door and
shot him dead, one ball striking him in the forehead. Nobody
else was hurt. Lord’s daughter, Louisa, was then a child. She
was born there in the year 1837, and died in Brisbane on
February 20, 1866, aged 29. Her only sister married a
Lieutenant Airey, who came to Sydney and Brisbane as a
Lieutenant of Marines, in the Challenger with the Duke of
Edinburgh, in 1868 and 1869. He became in after years, the
late Lieutenant Colonel
Airey, of Sydney.
One of the Challenger’s men died in Brisbane and is
buried at Paddington. His name was Percival Perkins
Baskerville, Commander in the Royal Navy. He died on March 1,
1869, aged 21.
One of Louisa Tully’s brothers, Robert Lord, was once
member for Gympie. His widow is the present wife of Sir Horace
Tozer, Queensland’s Agent General. Louisa Tully left two sons,
one of whom is in ‘Frisco, and the other in Sydney. Tully’s
second wife was a Miss Darvall, sister of Anthony Darvall, for
many years manager of the A.J.S. Bank in Ipswich, and a
candidate at the first federal elections.
The first Mrs. Tully had five brothers, William,
Robert, Frederick, Alfred and Simeon. The first two are dead.
Simeon, one of the owners of Eskdale, has also an oyster farm
at Lord’s Creek, Southport. One his daughters, Ruby Lord, is
at the convent school at Warwick, and exceptionally clever at
woodcarving and fancywork.
W. A. Tully, husband of Louisa, was once a very
prominent Brisbane man. He was born in Dublin in 1830 and
graduated as a B.A. of Trinity College in 1852. In that year
he came to Tasmania, and met the Lord family. He stayed there
until 1863 and became Inspecting Surveyor in the Survey
Office. In 1863 he came to Queensland, and in 1864 was
Commissioner for Lands in the Kennedy district. In 1864 he was
transferred to the Warrego. In 1866 he was appointed Chief
Commissioner, and then Under Secretary for Lands. In 1875 he
became Acting Surveyor General, and in 1883 was appointed
Surveyor General. Finally he became a member of the Land
Board. He and the second wife, Miss Darvall died, and are
buried together in Sydney. The first wife, Louisa Lord, is
alone in the Paddington cemetery.
Charles Henry Rawnsley, who died on January 16, 1873,
aged 55, was a staff surveyor who surveyed much of the country
He purchased land and built “Witton Manor” on it, at
Indooroopilly, the house long occupied by D. C. McConnell, and
afterwards by Andrew Bogle.
Rawnsley took some interest in natural history, and was
the cause of a curious discussion in the “Courier,” on a
supposed new bower bird which was actually named
“Ptilonorhynchus Rawnsleyi,” and held that name until Gerard
Krefft, of the Sydney Museum, proved it to be an immature male
Regent bird, with only part of the yellow colors displayed.
The Rawnsley’s “satin winged bower bird” retired into
oblivion. Charles Coxen, Sylvester Diggles, and Gerard Krefft, were the principal
writers in this old time long dead controversy. One of
Diggles’ sons is in the Electric Telegraph office.
William Grosvenor Armstrong was the year old child of Octavius (and Jessie Augusta) Armstrong, one of our veteran police magistrates, still in service at the Central Police Court, and residing at South Brisbane. The child died on May 29, 1872, and the stone says,
“I know, Oh Lord, that Thy judgments are right, and that Thy faithfulness hast afflicted me,”
one of the conundrums common among
The name of Georgina Hely, who died on September 10,
1866, as the widow of F. A. Hely, of New South Wales, at the
age of 71, recalls an old and remarkable family of the early
days. Hovenden Hely, a giant of six feet six, was one of the
men who started with Leichhardt on his second expedition. He
and Leichhardt and Daniel Bunce (“Old Ironbark”), left Sydney
for Raymond Terrace, on the Hunter River, in the steamer
“Thistle,” on September 30, 1846. From there they came
overland to Jimbour. However, Hely’s experience with
Leichhardt were not pleasant, and the expedition returned from
the Mackenzie River as a disastrous failure. When Leichhardt
started west on his last trip, in 1848, and no traces of him
were discernible for three years, Hovenden Hely went out in
1852 with a search expedition, but his two blacks deserted
him, and he returned to the coast, after being within two days
journey of where the wild blacks told his own blackboys the
Leichhardt party were all killed.
Hovenden Hely had a number of sons, who ranged in
height from 6ft to 6ft 4in., and three of them are well known
in Brisbane. The Georgina Hely, of the Paddington cemetery,
was mother of the wife of the late W. L. G. Drew. She was a
tall handsome woman.
William Yaldwyn, the now retired police magistrate, of
Brisbane, buried a six weeks old child on May 12, 1867.
Yaldwyn’s second wife is a daughter of the genial Phil Agnew,
Post and Telegraph Master of Dunwich. The child of 1867 was
named Duncan Francis. Yaldwyn was one of the early squatters
of the Dawson, and was out there in 1861, when 19 people were
killed on Wills’ station on the Comet.
Mary Ellen, the wife of T. H. B. Barron, was a daughter
of Arthur Wilcox Manning, once Under Secretary. This was the
Manning whom a relative named Bowerman, also in the service,
struck on the head with a tomahawk, and badly wounded.
Parliament in an hour of unreasoning sentimentalism, rushed
through a “Manning Pension Bill,” giving him a pension of £600
per annum, and £300 yearly to his widow if she survive him.
Manning died after drawing about £20,000 and his widow still
draws the £300.
Bowerman’s tomahawk will probably cost Queensland about
£30,000. And Manning went to live in Sydney, and not a penny
of the pension has ever been spent in Queensland.
Barron’s first wife, Miss Manning, died on December 21,
1866. His second wife was a daughter of the once
Registrar-General Blakeney, and she is still alive. Both wives
were fine looking women. The only daughter of the second wife
is married to a son of Sir Arthur Hunter Palmer.
Charlotte McKeand, who died on April 19, 1865, was the
wife of a giddy financial agent, McKeand, who had an office at
the top of Queen Street, beside where a chemist named Drew had
a shop, near where Dr. Hugh Bell resided, at the corner of
Queen and George Streets. McKeand made much money and lost it
again in a fashion common with giddy men, and all that is left
to perpetuate his name is his wife’s grave at Paddington. He
was the sixty per cent magnate of that period. He owned the
land now occupied by James Cowlinshaw and Herbert Perry, on
the Breakfast Creek road.
Henry Kingsmill Shaw and his wife Helen, buried a year
old infant on November 29, 1874. Shaw was one of the managers
of George Raff and Co., and had a tragical death in a lagoon
near Dalby. He stripped to swim in after some ducks he had
shot, became entangled in the weeds, and was drowned. The
present writer remembers the sad event. The widow married
again, and kept Auckland Villa, Tank Street, as a boarding
Tom Haynes, who died on June 12, 1875, was coachman for
Governor Cairns, who put a large, horizontal slab, with a
cross, over his grave, and an inscription to say it was a
record by the Governor.
Charles Street, who died on September 23, 1873, aged
42, was engaged at Pettigrew’s Sawmills in William Street. His
brother was father of the Street sisters who had an artificial
flower and dressmaking shop in the building now occupied by
the Protector of Aboriginals. One of these sisters married J.
G. Drake, and another was the wife of Inspector A. D. Douglas.
Daniel Weinholt, over whom is a fine marble monument,
died at Cleveland, on February 28, 1865, aged 43 years,
leaving a widow and four children. He was a son of the then
late J. B. Weinholt, of Kent and Weinholt, who were among the
early squatting families of Queensland. The monument was
erected by the brothers and sisters.
Thomas Burnett Temple, M.R.C.S., who died on June 10,
1864, aged 32, was a young doctor who came out for his health,
and died of consumption. His mother lies beside him, and Cecil
Burnett Temple, a child of 13 months. The mother died on
November 24, 1873, aged 50. The grave has a marble slab on a
large stone cross.
Inside one railing is a row of five headstones, over F. J. Barton, and his two infants, Charles Samways Warry, Albert Barton, Thomas Symes Warry, and Thomas Warry. F. J. Barton, who was a doctor, died on August 31, 1863. He was married to a Miss Warry, who, as Barton’s widow, married Dr. Hugh Bell, and, on a trip to Scotland, was lost in the Fiery Star, which was burned at sea, on Good Friday, 1866.
Barton was one of the first doctors of the Brisbane Hospital, when it was in George Street. Albert Barton, who died on February 23, 1864, was his brother. The stone says:
“I shall be satisfied when I awake with Thy likeness,”
another epitaph conundrum.
Thomas Symes Warry was a chemist in Queen Street. He died, unmarried, on August 19, 1864, aged 42. The stone says:
“Blessed is he that considereth the poor.”
Also this remarkable verse:
strange that those we lean on most,
whose laps our limbs are nursed,
into shadow, soonest lost,
love first are taken first,
gives u s love, something to love,
us, but when love is grown
ripeness, that on which it throve
off, and love is left alone.”
This Warry was a humorist. On one occasion he induced
Billy Brookes to climb a greasy pole in front of his shop in
Queen Street. Those were days when Billy was not the severe
good templar he became in after years. The pole climbing scene
was exhilarating. Billy, with the aid of sandpaper on his
hands, and got about half way, then slid down with great
celerity. Then he and Warry went over to call on “Pretty
Polly,” at the Treasury Hotel, to drink confusion to greasy
“Pretty Polly” afterwards married a man named Moffit,
and they kept the Royal Hotel, opposite the Post Office for
years. After she became a widow, Polly went to Charters
Towers, and died there.
Thomas Warry, senior, died at Gladstone, on February 7,
1869, aged 77.
The mother of the late Tom Pratten, of the Railway
Department, was a Miss Warry.
Emily Gertrude, was the year old child of Sheppard and
Emily Smith, and died on February 24, 1862. Smith was the
first manager of the Bank of New South Wales. He was a tall,
fine specimen of a man, about six feet two, and his wife was a
little woman. The smallest women never seem to hesitate about
Richard James Coley, who died on September 12, 1864,
aged 60, was Sergeant-at-Arms in the Legislative Assembly.
Coley came to a tragical end at the cottage still occupied in
George Street, close to Harris Terrace. His son came to an
equally tragical end in after years. One daughter was married
to a squatter named Thompson, on the Dawson, and another
married C. B. Dutton, once Minister for Lands, Minister for
Railways, and Minister for Works and Mines, in the first
Griffith Ministry. Beside Coley are his two little girls, of 8
and 13. The first died on March 4, 1845, the other on June 30,
To The Editor, “Truth”
On reading your articles on the
Paddington cemetery, in your interesting paper, I noticed a
slight error, which, as an old Brisbaneite, I would like to
In one of the paragraphs, you
mention that W. J. Buxton, who kept a stationer’s shop,
deserted his wife for an actress, when in reality it was a man
named H. Shepperson, who had the shop after Buxton, and who
was also a theatrical agent for any companies coming to
Brisbane. I cannot call to mind the name of the actress, but
she was in the burlesque line, which was at that time very
I hope I have not taken up too
much of your valuable space, but as a constant reader, I think
that anything relating to history of our city ought, if
possible, be correct.