“Why dost thou build thy halls, son of the winged days?

A few short years and the blast of the desert comes

It howls in thy empty court”


“A spirit passed before me, I beheld

The face of Immortality unveiled;

Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine,

And there it stood, all formless but divine,

Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake,

And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake,

‘Is man more just than God? Is man more pure

Than He who deems even Seraphs insecure

Creatures of clay, vain dwellers in the dust,

The moth survives you, and are ye more just?

Things of a day, ye wither ere the night

Heedless and blind to Wisdom’s wasted light.”

Byron’s Paraphrase from Job

            A few extra particulars concerning the old historic Hely family. Frederic Augustus Hely, whose wife lies in the Paddington cemetery, was the first Superintendent in Chief of convicts in Sydney. He died in 1835, and was buried in a vault in his own orchard at Gosford, Broken Bay. His wife was Georgina Lindsey Bucknell. One of their sons was Hovenden Hely, the explorer, who was out with Leichhardt in 1846, and went to search for him in 1852.

          One son was Henry Lindsey Hely, a barrister, who became a Queensland District Court judge.

          One daughter married the late W. L. G. Drew, then a paymaster in the Fleet. He came to Queensland, joined the Civil Service, and his last position was Chairman of the Civil Service Board.

          Another Hely girl married Edward Strickland, a major in the Royal Artillery, and afterwards Sir Edward Strickland, Commissary- General, who served in the Zulu War of 1878.

          Another girl married Captain G. K. Mann, Royal Horse Artillery, who after retiring from that position, became Superintendent of the Penal Settlement on Cockatoo Island, Sydney Harbor, where he planned and superintended the docks.

          Hovenden Hely was the father of the six tall sons of whom one is Major Hely, at present in the Government Savings Bank.

          These are a few results from F. A. Hely’s marriage in the long ago with the woman who lies in the Paddington cemetery.

          Mary Grace Sheppard, who died on June 28, 1869, was the wife of Edmund Sheppard, judge of the Metropolitan District Court. Her infant son, Alfred Henry, had died on October 15, 1866. One of our chief Government officers tells the following gruesome story:

In 1869 a young fellow named Davidson was out one night with some boon companions, and they were on their way home late at night. Davidson lived in North Brisbane, the others on the South side. He went with them to the ferry, and they advised him to go home. The ferry boatman was a Chinaman, named George. A punt also ran across on a rope, there being no bridge. They pushed the boat off, and Davidson took off his coat and trousers and dived in head first after it. The Chinaman merely said, ‘Oh, let him swim out,’ and pulled away. Davidson was drowned, and the police dragged for two days without success. On the third day, the ferry boat left the steps with Mrs. Sheppard, then on the eve of becoming a mother, two other passengers, and the officer who tells the story. When a short distance out the punt was coming in from the south side. Suddenly, at the stern of the boat, the body of Davidson rose from the river, head first, shot up, until breast high, glared, as it were, for a second with those ghastly, glassy, staring eyes, turned over on the back, and floated away. The second it rose, the officer, with remarkable presence of mind, instantly caught Mrs. Sheppard by both arms, to prevent her turning around to look at the body, and held her for at least a hundred yards, speaking to her softly, and telling her he would give a clear explanation. The judge afterwards thanked him earnestly, expressing a belief that he had save his wife’s life. Alas! Poor Mrs. Sheppard got puerperal fever after the birth of that baby, and lies there in the Paddington cemetery, so her life went after all.

          A young Church of England clergyman is thus recorded: 

“Jesu Mercy. In memory of the departed John Brakenridge, M.A. of Christ’s College, Cambridge, Clerk in Holy Orders. Died March 26, 1861, aged 31.” 

        He was one of the many young men who have come out to Queensland in that advanced stage of consumption which no climate can cure.

           Amos Braysher, who died on September 27, 1871, aged 35, was the landlord of “Braysher’s Hotel,” now the Metropolitan, in Edward Street. His widow married Duncan, and after Duncan died, Mrs. Duncan kept the hotel for years.

          Mrs. Duncan’s Metropolitan Hotel was the favorite house for squatters in those days, and probably then the best hotel in Brisbane.

          Buried at Paddington, is an old fellow named Marvel, perhaps a descendant of the famous Andrew Marvel. He was one of the band of ticket-of-leave men who came to the Darling Downs in 1840, with Patrick Leslie, when he took up the first station, Toolburra. In after years, Leslie wrote that “they were 20 as good and game men as ever I saw, and worth any 40 I have ever seen since.”

          Marvel was a chum of Peter Murphy, whose name is borne by Murphy’s Creek, on the Toowoomba line. Murphy was also one of Leslie’s men, and he died at Charters Towers on April 6, 1878.

          Among the stone-less graves is that of Tom Mostyn, one of the mob who pulled Trevethan’s butchers shop down in the beef riots at Charters Towers, on October 30, 1872.

          Another man named Perkins was with Captain Owen Stanley on the Rattlesnake, on the Queensland coast, in 1846, and was present at the Captain’s funeral at North Shore, Sydney, on March 10, 1850.

          There are many interesting men lying among the unknown dead. A young fellow buried there was a son of Charles Alcocks, who was one of the owners of the “Free Press,” a squatting paper, published in Brisbane in 1851, the office being on the site of the present Australian Hotel. Young Alcocks was killed by being thrown from his horse at Cowper’s Plains, in 1851. These plains are erroneously called “Cooper’s Plains,” though named from Dr. Cowper, the first medical man at the early convict settlement at Moreton Bay. Even Moreton Bay is spelled wrongly, as it was named by Captain Cook after the Scottish Earl of Morton, in whose name there is no “e.”

          An old lady, still living, tells us that in the Paddington cemetery, she has a brother, who went up the Brisbane River on June 27, 1846, in the first trip of the small steamer, Experiment, owned and built by Pearse, when the first and second class passenger return fares were 6s and 4s, and the freight on wool was 2s per bale. She remembered when Francis Gill, for many years Postmaster at Ipswich, had a saddler’s shop at South Brisbane, in 1843. This latter tough old gentleman is still alive and well, and can be seen weekly in Queen Street, faultlessly dressed and wearing a bell topper hat.

          She herself remembers when the first soda water and lemonade factory was started in North Brisbane, by Fisher and Gregory, in 1853, and Dr. Hobbs had his dugong oil fishery on the island of St. Helena, fifteen years before Superintendent Macdonald started to cut the scrub in 1864 to prepare it for a penal settlement.

          A two year old son of John and Ann Nott was buried on May 17, 1875. Nott was a merchant in Elizabeth Street, and had a wholesale house there. His wife was widow of a painter named Murray. She was a daughter of Lachlan McLean, whose son, William McLean, was once a well known blacksmith in Elizabeth Street. Nott died at Enoggera Terrace. His widow is still alive, and resides near Woolloongabba. She was referred to in a former article.

          Elizabeth Bateman, who died on March 9, 1873, was the wife of Samuel Bateman, who kept a hotel on the site of the present Hotel Cecil. It was built by a man who was foreman printer on the “Courier,” in old Jimmy Swan’s days. After Bateman died, the property was bought at a low figure by Dr. Mullen, who built the Hotel Cecil of the present day.

          The Horrocks family buried three of their children, Reginald Blackall, Algernon Levinge, and Gertrude Mary Horrocks, in 1871 and 1873, aged 13 months, 10 months and 2 years and 9 months. Horrocks was the well known Officer in charge of the Orphans, and was once Immigration Agent. He held a captain’s rank in the army. He was a Manchester man, and a nephew of the Horrocks known  to all women and drapers, as the originator and maker of “Horrocks’ long cloths.” He married a Miss Miller, whose father was a police magistrate at Armagh, in Ireland. That marriage was against the wish of his uncle, and it cost Horrocks a fortune.

          Horrocks was an educated, polite man, who commanded general respect. The tragical fate of one of his sons is still familiar to Brisbane people. A daughter, aged 18 or 19, died recently, but Mrs. Horrocks still resides in Brisbane. Reginald Miller, of the Audit Office, is her brother.

          Ernest Alexander Cairncross, a child of 21 days, who died on September 26, 1867, was a son of Cairncross, who kept a store on the corner of Queen and Albert Streets, where Rutter, the chemist, recently had a shop.

          Cairncross was married to a daughter of old George Edmonstone, once M.L.A., for Brisbane. He had a butchering business in Queen Street. One of the daughters of Cairncross married the present Hon. A. J. Thynne, who was staying at the time with the Cairncross family on Spring Hill. This Cairncross is often confused with Captain Cairncross, who owned Wattlebrae, and in front of whose house was the “Cairncross Buoy,” well known to all boating men. That red buoy is still there.

          A. R. and Annie Jones buried an infant on February 28, 1870. Jones was a shipbuilder, predecessor of Paul and Gray.

          One of his sons, named Sydney, became partner in the legal firm of Rees R. and Sydney Jones, of Rockhampton. He married a daughter of the late John Ferguson, and when he died his widow, who had several children, married J. T. Bell, late Minister for Lands.

          There is a stone placed over Charles Augustus Basham, by his brother, W. H. Basham, who still resides at Oxley. Basham died on April 12, 1873, aged 37. The father of these Bashams was an officer in the Irish Coast Guards. Our informant was present, as a boy, at his funeral, at Cushendall, Red Bay, Glens of Antrim, in 1849. The boy had run away from home to see the funeral, and saw a hearse for the first time. This gruesome vehicle gave him an awful scare, but nothing like the scare his dad gave him when he reached home.

          Amelia Isabella Peake, who died on April 22, 1873, aged only 24, was the wife of Captain Peake, first Captain of the old Government steamer, Kate, which finally sank in Moreton Bay. Two of Mrs. Peake’s infants are buried  with her. The ages, 24, 25, and 26, were the fatal period for an appalling number of wives. When his wife died, Captain Peake went to Sydney, and died somewhere in New South Wales.

          One day in 1872, someone saw two large strange fish in the pond of the Botanic Gardens. Captain Peake had a seine net and that was taken down to the pond. The fish were caught and caused great astonishment, as no one at the time had seen anything like them. But the usual expert came along and found that they were two specimens of  Ceratodus of the Mary and Burnett Rivers. Enquiries proved that they had been caught years before in Tinana Creek and been sent down to the gardens by the late R. B. Sheridan, then Collector of Customs, in Maryborough. Then they were restored to the pond and vanished again into oblivion until the days of curator McMahon, when one of his men, a Teutonic gentleman, was cleaning out the pond, and caught a ceratodus, then weighing about 12lbs. The German merely remarked, “By shingo, dis vos goot,” and took it home and ate it. Next day he caught another, but McMahon happened to come along, and sent it up to Curator de Vis at the Museum. De Vis saw at once what the fish was, and sent it back to the Gardens, where it was placed in the pond, none the worse for its temporary absence. Finally that one and his mate were removed to the fountain pond at the south-west corner of the Gardens, and both were taken away by the flood of 1893, or 21 years after Captain Peake had hauled them out in his seine net.

          John Wallace Barnett, who died on September 3, 1872, at the age of 46, was a well known man in Brisbane, where he was Consular Agent for the United States, a country in which he had lived for some years. He and Heusmann, and G. R. Fyfe, were once owners of one of the principal Mount Perry mines, and the town of “Fyfe Barnett,” actually stood on the present site of Mount Perry. Barnett’s only son, Sydney Barnett, married a daughter of William Baynes, once a partner in the squatting firm of Moore Brothers and Baynes, owners of Barambah station, on the Burnett.

          Baynes was returned as member for the Burnett, at the General Election of 1878, as a supporter of McIlwraith. He was a fine, genial, honest fellow, and a general favourite on both sides of the House. The present writer was a member in those days and can write with authority. Sydney Barnett lives today at Ormiston, on the Cleveland railway.

          One of Cobb and Co.’s coachman, a young fellow named Henry Taylor, was drowned in Oxley Creek, on March 11, 1870, aged 29, and his fellow employees erected a stone over his grave.

          Marie Louise Fairlie, wife of Patrick Fairlie, sixth son of the then late Colonel James Fairlie, of Holmes House, Ayrshire, Scotland, died at Brisbane, on February 16, 1873, aged 31. Referring to the “Courier” of that date, we find only the funeral notice, but there is a very ambiguous paragraph referring to the sudden death of some lady, in a high social position, who had been addicted to looking upon rainbow colored wines, and had been fed on nothing but brandy and water for weeks before her death. The “Courier” thought the subject demanded a searching enquiry.

To the Editor “Truth”

Sir, Mr. F. Dennecke, in your last issue, correctly pointed out that it was H. Shepperson, bookseller, and not W. J. Buxton, that deserted his wife for an actress. Her name was Emilie Melville, an American burlesque artist, for whom Shepperson acted as agent. I remember her in the ‘seventies (1870s) at the Theatre Royal in “Kenilworth,”  “Fatinitza,” “Boccaclo,”  and other “leg show” extravaganzas. When Blondin, “Hero of Niagara,”  was here, he was engineered by Shepperson, who became a nine days’ hero of Brisbane, after riding on Blondin’s back on the aerial wire. The show was held in the gardens, and Blondin’s wire was stretched high in the air, over where the Kiosk now stands. Hundreds of “outer outers” occupied positions on the rocks on the opposite side of the river, and if the distance did not “lend enchantment to the view,” it at least saved them a “bob a nob.”

I am, sir, yours, faithfully,

C. S. P. T.

Petrie Terrace,

January 11, 1908.

“Truth” has received two other communications confirming C.S.P.T. as to the fact that it was Shepperson who eloped with the actress fair, but both gave the name of the latter as Lydia Howard.

Ed. “Truth.”


JANUARY 26, 1908



          I came to the place of my birth and cried 

“the friends of my youth, where are they?” 

and an echo answered 

“Where are they?” – Arabic poem.

They grew in beauty side by side

They filled one home with glee,

Their graves are  severed far and wide,

By mountain, stream, and sea.

The same fond mother bent at night,

O’er each fair sleeping brow,

She had each folded flower in sight,

Where are those dreamers now?

          Among the unknown graves are those of a number of aboriginals, who were hanged.

          These are said, by some early colonists, to have been buried outside the cemetery, and others say they were buried in a corner inside.

          It is certain they were all taken charge of by the Church of England.

On April 21, 1854, a notorious black called “Dundahli,” was hanged on the site of the present General Post Office. He had been accused of seven murders, but the one he was hanged for was that of William Gregor and Mary Shannon, at the Pine River. On the day he was hanged – by a hangman purposely brought from Sydney – there was a mob of about 33 blacks on the “Windmill Hill,” where the Observatory is today. They called to Dundahli, as he stood on the gallows, and he called back, telling them to be sure and kill “Woom-boongoroo,” the black who had betrayed him. He was captured in the Valley, where he had incautiously ventured among a lot of other blacks, through the agency of a man named Baker, who in after years had a farm and hotel at Walloon, in the Rosewood.

Baker knew Dundahli, and enticed him into a room where three other men were concealed, and the four men sprang on him, and held him until the police came. Dundahli was badly knocked about in the struggle.

Mrs. Baker told the writer in 1878, that there was a reward of £25 for his capture, and she went to the courthouse and drew the money for her husband. She is said to be still alive, in Ipswich, or was a few years ago.

Dundahli had too long a drop, and fell with his feet on the coffin underneath. The hangman doubled his legs us, and added his own weight, until the miserable black was strangled.

          It was a ghastly spectacle for a crowd of men, women, and children.

          Dundahli was buried at Paddington, either inside or outside the Church of England ground.

          Two other blacks who were hanged are also there. These were “Chanerrie,” and “Dick,” hanged on August 4, 1859, for a criminal assault on a German woman. They were two Burnett River blacks.

          The came “Kipper Billy,” who was shot by Warder Armstrong when attempting to escape from the jail. It was remarkable that no bullet wound was discovered, but it must have reached his interior somehow, unless he died on shock, or what the modern sawbones calls “stoppage of the heart’s action.” Presumably, if the heart continued working, death would be indefinitely postponed.

          Some enterprising criminologist opened “Kipper Billy’s” grave, and took his skull away. This raised much indignation on the part of Shepherd Smith and Henry Buckley, the cemetery trustees. Someone, in 1854, had dug down to Dundahli and taken his head. The Paddington cemetery was a lonely isolated spot in those days, and there was opportunity enough to dig up anybody.

          Buried there is a man named Jubb, who had a hotel in Cunningham’s Gap, on the old road to Toowoomba, in 1852. In that year, two distinguished visitors went up to see the squatters on the Downs. These were Lord Ker, and Lord Scott, the latter being a son of the Duke of Buccleugh. They stayed, on their way up and down, at Jubb’s Hotel. These were the first lords who ever visited the territory now called Queensland. Jubb’s name recalls the “Jubb Jubb” in the “Hunting of the Snark.”

          A neat headstone marks the grave of Thomas Ayerst Hooker, second son of James and Mary Hooker, drowned in the Condamine crossing at Undulla, on December 13, 1866. A squatter named James Hooker, or Hook, was one of the owners of Weranga Station, in 1856, afterwards sold by Hook, or Hooker, to Mort and Laidley. Was this young fellow Hooker his son? Perhaps some old squatter will kindly tell us. And was the body brought all that distance in those days, to be buried at Paddington?

          Buried on December 23, 1871, was a child of seven months old, named Moreton Franklyn Ryder, son of the long experienced and courteous Under Secretary W. H. Ryder, of the Home Office. Ryder was born in Prince Edward Island, Canada, in November, 1843, and came to Victoria in 1851.

          In 1861, he was on the staff of the old “Guardian” newspaper in Brisbane, and in 1862 became a clerk in the Government Printing Office. Thence he rose rapidly and finally reached the post of Under Secretary, in 1896. He had once a sadder bereavement than that of the baby of 1871, when a fine son was killed on Breakfast Creek bridge by being thrown off his pony on the way to school. One of his sisters was married to Rickards, once station master at Ipswich, and became mother of Katie Rickards, the brilliant pianisto.

          Harold Durham Paul, who died on June 12, 1873, was a four months and fourteen days old baby, fourth son of George William and Emily Paul. This George William is our well known genial Judge Paul, who was born at Penrith, New South Wales, on June 2, 1839, and came to Queensland on December 25, 1863. He became Crown Prosecutor in 1866, Acting Judge in 1871, and District Court Judge in 1874. He has been three or four times Acting Judge of the Supreme Court.

          A young fellow named William Page had an accident on board the ship Light Brigade, on her way to Brisbane, and was so badly injured that he died after arrival, on December 15, 1866, aged 22.

          A young fellow named John Mace, said to be a brother or nephew of the famous boxer, Jem Mace, was drowned in the Brisbane River, on September 11, 1869, aged 23.

          One grave holds the infant son of George Hope and Morforwyn Verney. Captain Verney was aide-de-camp to Governor Blackall, and left Queensland when the Marquis died.

          Evidently Mrs. Verney, if we are to judge by her name, belonged to a Welsh family.

          The child died on November 26, 1870.

          It would appear as if one early settler was somewhat of a humorist, with regard to names. That was Henry Rosetta, who died on December 9, 1863, aged 49. Beside him lies a six year old son, whom he had named “Christmas Gift,” and who died June 23, 1864. This is the Rosetta who gave his name to “Rosetta Swamp” of the present day, the notorious quagmire out of which Dr. Ham has ordered the City Council to expel all microbes without delay.

          One stone-less grave contains a man named Marks, who was one of a number badly injured in a terrible boiler explosion at the Union foundry, in Maryborough, in 1872, when seven men were killed. One half of the boiler was blown clear over a Chinaman’s garden, 200 yards away.

          In 1855, two shiploads of German immigrants arrived in Brisbane, by the ships Merbz and Aurora. They were engaged in Germany by a man named Kirchner, of Kirchner and Co., of Sydney, who brought them out on a two years engagement.

          They were intended for the stations, as men were scarce in those days, especially shepherds, of whom a great number were killed by the blacks. The squatters were to pay £16 for each German’s passage, to be deducted from his two years’ wages. A majority of the squatters made no deductions, and the Germans gave great satisfaction. A number shared the fate of those who fell under the spear and nulla. Among these immigrants were two brothers named Muller, one of whom died a month after arrival, and was buried in the Paddington cemetery. The brother went as a hutkeeper on Manumbar station, and was killed by the blacks.

          Captain Graham Mylne, M.L.A., and his wife, Helena White, buried a five months old child on May 31, 1868. Mylne in that year, was member for the Warrego. The Mackenzie Ministry was in office, and in a precarious position. Not a soul of either the Council or Assembly is alive today. South Brisbane was represented by T. B. Stephens, North Brisbane by A. B. Pritchard and Dr. O’Doherty, the Valley by Charles Lilley. The 20 members of the Council, and the 31 of the Assembly are all dead. Mylne spoke of the position of the Ministry, who had been defeated on the Address-in-Reply, by 13 to 11, and the Governor refused to accept their resignation. Mylne’s wife, the mother of the child at Paddington, was a Miss White, sister of Albert White, of the Logan River, now of Bluff Downs, west of Toowoomba. Besides his station on the Logan, Albert White held old Combabah Station, which took all the country from the Coomera River to Nerang, including Southport.

          In 1870, the Manager of Combabah was old Sandy Gordon, who kept a whole pack of Kangaroo dogs, the leaders of which were usually about a mile ahead of Gordon on the march. Present writer was a youth of 17, when on a first visit to Queensland, in 1870, and we had two days kangaroo hunting with Gordon. Southport then was covered by heavy forest, with rank undergrowth, and long grass, full of wallabies.

          Albert White, the present owner of Bluff Downs, on the head of the Burdekin, was in Brisbane last week. He is one of the finest specimens of men in Queensland. He was a young man when owner of Nindooimbah and Coombabah. His sister, who married Graham Mylne, is still alive and well, in Sydney, but Mylne died many years ago, at Eatonswell Station, on the Clarence.

          One of his sons, also a Captain Mylne, fought in the South African war, and was on the staff of Lord Metheun. He passed through Brisbane last week, and we shall have occasion to refer to him and Albert White again.

          David Williams, who died on March 26, 1874, was a Welshman, who had been years in the pilot service, at Gladstone, and was also some time in the Port Office.

          Can anyone enlighten us concerning Clara Ann Hopkins, who died on April 12, 1874, aged 29, and on whose grave is this extraordinary verse?

“She is not as we saw her last,

On a suffering dying bed;

To her all death and pain are past,

And by living streams she is led;

She has learned the sacred story,

Of the Saviour’s dying love,

Her eyes now see the glory,

That awaited her above..”

          If the writer of this had seen the look in the eyes of those who read it, he would have fled somewhere in the middle of the night.

          In the centre of Rosewood, near Marburg, is a flat valley, once known as Sally Owen’s Plains, still known as such to old residents. Sally was an old time celebrity, who kept a hotel at Western Creek, between Rosewood and Grandchester, then known as “Bigge’s Camp.” She used the plains for her cattle and horses, as they were safe there from horse thieves and cattle duffers. The “plains” were merely an open forest pocket in the brigalow scrub. An enterprising person , who had run an illicit still in the old country, thought Sally Owen’s plains an ideal spot for a similar institution, and he made whisky and rum there in hundreds of gallons. Likewise he killed cattle and boiled then down for tallow. He took this tallow to Ipswich in large casks, but there was only about six inches of tallow in the inside of the casks, and all the rest was occupied by kegs of raw spirit! This was engineered so cleverly that there was never any discovery. That old time distiller of Sally Owen’s Plains, lies at rest in Paddington cemetery, near the southwest corner.

          We withhold his name for the sake of his descendants. The shepherds, shearers, stockmen, and bullock drivers of those days must have had a gay time with the rum from Sally Owen’s Plains. Artemus Ward would have said “that sort of rum inspires a man with a wild desire to smash windows!”

          In reference to correspondents who wrote to make corrections.

          Notwithstanding the fair Josephine Papi’s declaration that her uncle Jerry Scanlan was a surveyor, we have the inexorable facts that he was a saddler by trade, and a policeman by choice. Those who knew Jerry most intimately, say he would not have known the difference between a theodolite and a concertina. Jerry had a weakness for attending funerals, mounted on a serious looking horse, with two long “weepers” hanging from the back of his hat.

          In reply to Mr. Rendall, who says his father’s name was John Wood Rendall, we can only say that John Randall is the name on the tombstone.

          In answer to Mr. Conroy, we have the fact that a Constable John Conroy was burned to death on the Durundur Road. There may have been two constables of that name.


FEBRUARY 2, 1908



“The man, how wise, who sick of gaudy scenes,

Is led by choice to take his favourite walk,

Beneath Death’s gloomy, silent cypress shades,

Unpierced by Vanity’s fantastic ray,

To read his monuments, to weigh his dust,

Visit the vaults and dwell among the tombs.-

Young’s Night Thoughts

How loved, how valued once, avail thee not;

To whom related, or by whom begot;

A heap of dust alone remains of thee

‘Tis all Thou art and all the Proud shall be.


The doctor says that I shall die;

You that I knew in days gone by,

I fain would see your face once more,

Con well its features o’er and o’er,

And touch your hand, and feel your kiss,

Look in your eyes and tell you this;

That all is done, that I am free,

That you through all eternity

Have neither part nor lot in me.

-Amy Levy

          A neat headstone is over Susan Geary, wife of Lieutenant William Geary, R.N. She died on August 9, 1852. She was the mother of all the Queensland Gearys, including four girls and three boys, of whom only one girl is alive today.

          One of the sons was once manager of Jimbour station when Joshua Peter Bell was owner, in the days when champagne was a common beverage, and the silver on the Jimbour dining table cost £500. Those days have passed.

          It is interesting to remember that Joshua Peter Bell was an enthusiastic admirer of the Miss Geary who married Robert Little, the Crown Solicitor. Both were competitors for her hand, and Little won. It was a grievous disappointment to Bell, but the squatters of those days, like the French Mirabeau family, had a talent for choosing fine women, and Bell went and wooed and won a daughter of Dr. Dorsey, of Ipswich. She and the Miss Geary who married Little, were two of the finest specimens of women in Queensland. One Miss Geary married Percy Faithfull, member of an old time honored family, in New South Wales. On one occasion in their single days, the sons of Faithfull were driving home across the Goulburn Plains, when they were attacked by Gilbert, the bushranger, and his gang, who had bailed up Springfield station, and rounded up the whole population. The Faithfull boys made a gallant fight, and were quite a surprise party to Gilbert. The Gilbert men were armed only with revolvers, and knowing that one of the Faithfulls had a rifle, in addition to their revolvers, galloped round at long range, fired under the necks of their horses, and from behind trees, and generally gave the Faithfull warriors a wide berth. One of Gilbert’s men got fairly close and fired from behind a tree, point blank at one of the Faithfull brothers, but Faithfull’s horse threw up its head at the exact moment, intercepted the ball with its forehead, and fell dead. Finally the bushrangers cleared, and the gallant fight of the Faithfulls was afterwards recognised by the Government in a gold medal for each of the party.

          One Miss Geary married E. O. Moriarty, engineer in chief of Harbors and Rivers in New South Wales. Another married a nephew of Sir Maurice O’Connell. The Miss Geary who married Robert Little had a family of four sons and four daughters.

          William Henry Geary, the grandfather, died on February 20, 1870. He was at one time Harbor Master in Brisbane. One of his sons, Godfrey N. B. Geary, was once chief clerk in the Lands office, and a captain in the artillery. He involved himself in a a lawsuit for breach of promise brought against him by a Miss Hollingsworth, of Stanthorpe, and she got a verdict for a thousand pounds. But she merely held it over him in terrorem, like a Damocles sword, which was to fall only if he married another girl. As he contracted no further engagements, the sword remained suspended until he died. Miss Hollingsworth finally married Tom Coventry, a gentleman whose name is not unknown in mining circles. Mrs. Coventry, an educated, intellectual, woman, was for years, the social editor-ess of the “Telegraph,” and once started on her own account a bright little journal called the “Princess,” which reached 22 numbers, and died generally regretted by all who knew it.

          On the headstone of the Mrs. Geary from 1852 we read:

“And I heard a voice which said: ‘Write – blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth.”

          Margaret Francis Clara, wife of William Pickering, died on June 28, 1859, aged 43, and Pickering died on March 11, 1868, aged 57. Pickering was once Curator of Intestate Estates, also an auctioneer and commission agent, and owned a lot of land in the Valley, where the Pickering Estate took in a considerable area now covered by closely built houses. Alexander Raff succeeded him as Curator of Intestate Estates. One of his sons, now deceased, was a once fairly well known Captain Pickering, for some years labor agent in the South Seas. His family are still in Brisbane.

          Elizabeth Cowell, who died on January 17, 1864, aged 38, was the first wife of Tom Cowell, once one of Brisbane’s best known men. Tom once had a dairy farm at the “One-Mile Swamp,” the present Woolloongabba, and carried milk into town in two cans slung  on a yoke across his shoulders. The farm was owned by old “Joe Howe,” who is still alive. Joe had one daughter who married Bill Moody, of Oxley.

          Cowell prospered , as he deserved to prosper , and in after years became the proprietor of the Sovereign Hotel in Queen Street. Finally he retired, and lived in a house on the North Quay, near the Longreach. The house was afterwards occupied by Dr. Purcell, and at the present time is tenanted by the Military Club. In that house, Tom Cowell’s first wife, a fine specimen of a woman, died a tragical death through her clothes catching fire, and the servant girl who tried to save her was also burnt to death.

          In after years, Tom married again, and the second wife is still alive. By the first he had one daughter, who married a man named Daniell, who died not long ago. Present writer knew Cowell well. Once sold to him for £40 a double choke bore Greener gun which cost £65. Cowell afterwards sold it to Lennon, of Lennon’s hotel, for £40, and Lennon used it for many pigeon matches. When he died the gun disappeared, and finally found its way to a Brisbane pawn shop, where warehouseman John Bell saw and bought it for £5, and it is now in his possession.

          On Mrs. Cowell’s grave is the line

“Ye know not what shall be on the morrow.”

          One headstone, which has fallen down, bears the name of two children, Emma and William Henry Collins, who died in 1863 and 1864. Beside them is the grandmother, Mary Collins, who died on July 12, 1873, aged 86, one of the very few old people in the cemetery. The father of the children, Jimmy Collins, was a well known butcher and tanner, who once owned the present York Hotel, which he built up from a butcher’s shop, the money being mostly provided by Joshua Peter Bell, who realised the words of the Psalmist, “passing away, passing away,” for he never saw his cash anymore.

          Ann Ellen Boyce, second daughter of William Martin Boyce, E.L.C.S., died on June 11, 1866, aged 24. Also Susan, wife of W. M. Boyce, died on May 27, 1874, aged 58. The stone also records Ellen Victoria Board, youngest daughter of W. M. and Susan Boyce, who died at Melbourne on August 24, 1877, aged 34. She was the wife of T. A. Board, of Sydney, brother of G. L. Board, present chief clerk in the Lands Office and Inspector of State Forests. The stone also records Stuart Leslie Board, a child of the mother, who died in Melbourne.

          William Martin Boyce was for many years Town Clerk of Toowoomba, and his only son, J. A. Boyce, is the well known P.M. of Townsville. The first wife of W. M. Boyce was a Miss Brown of Tasmania. When G. L. Board was a youth he went to a collegiate school kept by the Rev E. B. Shaw, close to the old windmill, the present Observatory. Among his fellow pupils were the McDougalls and Taylors, of Toowoomba, Pring Roberts, Arthur Chambers, Fred Hamilton, Jack Kent, the two Hausmanns, and other sons of the pioneers.

          A four months’ child named Frederick Charles Cracknell was a son of Cracknell, who was the predecessor of Matvieff as head of the Telegraph Department. He lived four miles out on the Ipswich Road, near Hardcastle’s old hotel.

          Gilbert Wright, of New South Wales, was a solicitor, who died in Brisbane on June 12, 1866, aged 37. He resided in the Valley. His widow married the well-known R. R. Smellie, founder of the firm of R. R. Smellie and Co. On Wright’s tomb are the words, 

“I wait for the Lord; my soul doth wait, and in His word do I hope.”

          Charlotte Greenwood was the wife of Christopher Henry Greenwood, and died on March 16, 1857, aged 23. Greenwood kept a hotel in Grey Street, near Russell Street, South Brisbane. One Miss Greenwood married George Grenier, of Oxley. The Grenier family held a lot of land in South Brisbane.

          Joseph Thompson, who died on December 19, 1857, aged 38, had his name handed down by the Thompson Estate on the Ipswich Road, near the junction.

          On March 11, 1856, a young fellow named J. M. Omanney, aged 20, was thrown from his horse and killed on the Breakfast Creek road. He was a son of Major Omanney, of the Bengal Engineers.

          One of the earliest graves is that of Edward Roe Thomas, fourth son of Jocelyn Thomas, Esq., of Van Diemen’s Land, who died on July 31, 1853, aged 32. The stone assures us that 

“he died in the Christian faith, a firm believer in his Saviour.”  

His father was careful to have the “Esquire” on the tombstone. Some day we shall see a stone to the memory of John Brown, J.P.

          A neat stone marks the grave of Frederick Neville Isaac, of Gowrie, Darling Downs, who died on July 12, 1865, aged 44. This name takes us back to the early squatting days, to the year 1845, when Hughes and Isaac held Westbrook and Stanbrook stations, when Tom Bell, grandfather of the present Bells, held Jimbour, and ex P.M. Papa Pinnock held Ellangowan. Leichhardt named the Isaacs River, a tributary of the Fitzroy, after F. Isaac, of Gowrie station. It is rather remarkable that the name on the tombstone is Isaac, whereas Leichhardt and the early records give it as Isaacs. The Isaac in the Paddington cemetery was only 23 when he met Leichhardt at Gowrie in 1844.

          Alice Elizabeth Burrowes, who died in March 1859, was the sixteen year old daughter of Major Edward Burrowes, one time Deputy Surveyor-General when A. C. Gregory was Surveyor-General. Burrowes held a lieutenant’s commission in the 93rd Regiment at 17 years of age. He married a Francis Susannah Nalder, who died at the age of 68, at Burketown, when on a visit to her son, and was buried under the only shade tree within a radius of 30 miles. Eight of her family are still living, five sons and three daughters. One of the girls, Frances Mary, is a widow, living in Yorkshire. Amy is a Mrs. Allan Campbell, of Bathurst, and the third, Augusta, is the wife of the well known Brisbane chemist Harry Cormack. The first treadle sewing machine that ever came to Queensland was imported by A. C. Gregory, and presented to Mrs. Burrowes. It was a great curiosity in those days. Mrs. Cormack’s name, Augusta, was given in honor of Gregory, whose name was Augustus.

          A man named Peter Martin was drowned off McCabe’s wharf at South Brisbane. In 1855, and is buried at Paddington. He was one of three men wrecked away east of Fraser’s Island, and they landed from one of the vessel’s boats on the coast of Bribie Island, where the other two men were killed by the blacks. Miller got away and landed on St Helena, when Dr. Hobb’s dugong fishing station was there. McCabe’s wharf, where he was drowned, was on the present site of Baines’ Brothers wharf. The first “Courier” office was on McCabe’s wharf, and did not move over to George Street until 1852. The present W. J. Costyn, chemist in the Valley, was a boy in the “Courier” office on McCabe’s wharf, in 1847 and 1848, and the money to pay for the first plant was found by T. H. Green, whose sister Costyn married in after years. James Swan, who has been often credited with starting the “Courier,” came on the scene only after the office was removed to George Street.

 To the Editor of the “Truth”,

Sir, I see in last Sunday’s “Truth” a paragraph re Jerry Scanlan. I can give you a good lot about Jerry Scanlan and others of the old hands in the ‘60s (1860s). Jerry Scanlan kept an hotel where Stewart is now in Queen Street, which was called the “Sawyers’ Arms,” not the “Surveyors’ Arms.” He sold it to one John Jones in 1854, and went across the street and opened another hotel called the “Harp of Erin.” It was next to the Empire Hotel now, which was then Paddy Meehan’s butcher shop. Scanlan sold or left that place and built the hotel in Edward Street called the “Shamrock Hotel.” I am not certain, but I think it is the same hotel bearing that name now. Scanlan was a supporter of Dr. Lang and John Richardson, when they were returned, beating Dorsey and Hudson. All hotels were free on election day, and there was a cask of beer with the head knocked out, and vessels to drink it with, every 300 or 400 yards, starting from George Street down to Queen Street to the Customs House – it was called Petrie’s Corner then. Those were good old times. Every one had money, plenty of work, and no unemployed. I saw a man known as Red Smith (his name was Richard Smith) make a bet that he could produce a pint pannikin full of sovereigns, and George McAdam held the money. Smith brought the pannikins full, and won the bet. I followed him from his own place in George Street, between Charlotte and Mary Streets, to McAdam’s “Sovereign Hotel” in Queen Street, about where Sing, Cribb and Co., are now; that was, I think, in the year 1854.

          Brisbane was small, only a few hundred, and a good many of the inhabitants were either Government men or Lang’s emigrants, and a good lot of people they were. “The Fortitudes” were one lot. Of course, the free people were beginning to come, and the convicts were being sent to the south, and there was great agitation about Separation, and old Dr. Lang, I think, went to England about it, with a petition, which was granted. I was one of the passengers on the first steamer that went from Brisbane to Ipswich. She was called “Experiment,” and was owned by Campbell and Pierce. She left what was called Dowse’s  wharf, just below the now sanitary wharf, on July 12, 1846, for Ipswich, on her first trip. I might be a little bit out in my dates, but not much. She was captained by Mr. A. E. Campbell.




January 8, 1903.





“Farewell, my son! And farewell all my earthly happiness! Farewell, my only son! Would to God I had died for thee! I shall never more see earthly good in the land of the living! Attempt not to comfort me! I shall go mourning all the rest of my days, until my grey hairs come down with sorrow to the grave!”

Hervey’s Meditation

I pass, with melancholy stare,

By all these solemn heaps of fate;

And think, as soft and sad I tread

Above the venerable dead,

Time was, like me, they life possessed;

And time will be when I shall rest.


          In the Baptist section of the Paddington cemetery is William Grimes, who died on October 30, 1870, aged 60. The stone tells us that he “was the father of Messrs. Grimes of this city.” It also records the death of Ernest Henry Grimes, a grandson, who died on May 12, 1875, aged 6. The Grimes family are prominent in Brisbane history over a considerable period. Samuel and George Grimes were members of the Assembly as representatives of Oxley and Bulimba.

          In 1874, S. and G. Grimes, grocers of Queen Street, had a sugar and arrowroot mill at Oxley, adjoining the Pearlwell Estate, owned by Dr. Waugh, one of whose daughters was drowned in the Quetta.

          Sam and George Grimes were men of undoubted honesty, but not orators or statesmen. On one occasion when Sam rose to speak, Morehead got up and walked out, remarking: “I can’t stand the hum of that arrowroot mill!”

          This sarcastic observation referred to the arrowroot making at the Coongoon mills. Grimes and Petty, and S. and G. Grimes were once familiar firms.

          One Miss Grimes married J. B. Hall, Accountant in Insolvency.

          One daughter and one son, Ernest Henry Grimes, remained unmarried.

          Jane Bulgin, who died in 1872, was the wife of auctioneer Bulgin, of Brisbane’s early days, and mother of Henry Bulgin, generally known as “Lord Bulgin,” who died recently, leaving a family, of whom one was for a time nurse in the General Hospital. One of “Lord Bulgin’s” sisters was a girl whose beauty captivated Sam Griffith, Chief Justice of the Commonwealth, and Sam did his best to induce her to become Mrs. Griffith, but Sam was not her ideal, or she had no idea that he would one day have a salary of £3,500, and so she rejected him and married C. C. Carrington, one of the still living men who have been longest in the Civil Service in Queensland.

          Clara Reinhard,  who died on November 27, 1867, was a year old child whose sister was one of the cleverest pupils in the early days of All Hallows Convent School. Can anyone tell us what became of Lillian Reinhard?

          William Hickey, who died on August 7, 1871, is under a stone erected by his brother, Matthew Hickey, who was 30 years with D. L. Brown and Co., and is now with Alexander Stewart and Sons. Hickey’s brothers were well known perambulating salesmen in the days when Mallens and Ziemans and other old time peripatetic merchants were out in search of spare cash from the pioneer settlers.

          The oldest recorded grave in the cemetery is that of “Margaret Brown, of Ipswich,” native of Kildare, Ireland, who died on August 30, 1845, aged 35. Being Irish, she was evidently no relation of the Ipswich Brown family, which included Peter Brown, once mayor of Ipswich, and a leading architect, as they were all decidedly Scottish, and wore kilts and called themselves “Broon.” So far we have failed to trace the Maggie Brown who was taken out to the Paddington cemetery over sixty five and a half years ago, or three years after Brisbane was thrown open to free settlement, in 1842.

          Conspicuous among the graves of the white race is the solitary last resting place of “Sing Cong Long,” in the Presbyterian ground. How came this one lonely disciple of Confucius and Mencius, and Bhudda, among the adherents of the stern merciless uncompromising John Knox, who bearded the Scottish, Queen Mary, in her den? Sing Cong Long was a Chinese merchant and fruiterer, who had shops in Albert Street, and was a general favourite with all classes. And yet Sing Cong Long had unscrupulous enemies – with whom he wanted to get even – and he studied the various religions to ascertain which one gave most promise of a conclusive settlement. He decided in favor of Presbyterianism after reading a translation of a sermon by Calvin, who held that the chief joy of the Blessed was in sitting on the battlements of Heaven and joyfully contemplating the gymnastic performances of lost souls basting in the sulphur ocean of fire underneath! Hence the appearance of Sing Cong Long in the Presbyterian cemetery!

          Caroline Jane Blakeney, buried on March 23, 1866, was a little girl, six years and 20 days of age, daughter of William and Eliza Blakeney. Blakeney was the once well known Registrar-General, and son of Judge Blakeney. One of his daughter s married T. H. B. Barron, and another married S. B. Leishman, the squatter. Both were fine looking women. One of Mrs. Barron’s daughters is the wife of one of Sir Arthur Palmer’s sons. C. J. Blakeney, a once well known lawyer of Brisbane, Cairns, and Cooktown, was another son of the Judge.

          Thomas William Hutton, a young man who died in May 1874, was the son of an old gaol warder, whose name is borne by Hutton Lane, between Adelaide and Ann Street. One of his daughters married a son of Stuart Russell, author of the “Genesis of Queensland.”

          Maria Passmore, who died on April 11, 1872, aged 27, was the wife of Hugh Passmore, one of a family well known in the early days of Toowoomba, where they were prominent citizens.

          Edmund Morris Lockyer, who died on June 28, 1872, aged 62, was a son of Major Lockyer, who came up the Brisbane River in a whaleboat in 1825, and wrote a full description of all he saw. Among the men with him were two red-haired soldiers, at whose fiery ringlets the blacks were much astonished. Lockyer and his party camped one night at the mouth of Oxley Creek, and in his diary he says, “Emus were running about all night, making an intolerable noise.” As emus do not move at night, and make very little noise at any time, Lockyer evidently referred to the stone plover, usually known as the curlew. Lockyer’s name is handed down to us by Lockyer’s Creek at Gatton, one of the tributaries of the Brisbane River.

          Peter and Magdalena Betz buried a year old child on February 20, 1870, Betz kept the West Riding Hotel, at the foot of Queen Street.

          The only child of William and Ellen Scarr, was buried on October 23, 1874. Scarr was a draughtsman in the Survey Office, and still resides in Brisbane. Very melancholy are these children’s graves. Old Matthew Prior, the poet, wrote,

“Happy the babe, who, privelege by fate,

To shorter labour and lighter weight,

Received but yesterday the gift of breath,

Ordered tomorrow to return to death.”

          Edward Hackway, who died on August 18, 1871, aged 41, left a widow, a handsome woman, who married John Killeen Handy, member for the Mitchell in 1863.

          Bramston petitioned against his return, but the Committee decided that he was legally entitled to hold the seat. The petition was based on the ground that Handy was a priest of the Roman Catholic faith, and as such could not be a member of Parliament.

          The chief evidence was that of Dr. Cain, who said that with the Church of Rome, a priest is always a priest, and that he cannot give up, nor can the church take from him, the priestly character conferred by ordination. He might dress like a layman, but he is always a priest. Even if under major excommunication, he still remains a priest, though cut off from positive and active communion with the faithful. Under minor ex-communication he can still say Mass, and even under major excommunication he can administer baptism in emergencies. Handy said he joined the Church of England in 1863, and next month was married by a Church of England clergyman. In 1865 he started practice as a barrister in Brisbane, where he had arrived in the previous year. Evidently Mrs. Hackway was Handy’s second wife. Handy’s vote on one occasion saved the Palmer Ministry from defeat, a friendly act not forgotten by Palmer.

          An old time publican named Woods kept a hotel in Queen Street, on the site of Todd’s auction mart. He was the man who introduced the first cab to Brisbane, one of the old “jingles” which have long since disappeared, though in a majority over the hansoms for many years. The two seats were back to back, the same as in an Irish jaunting car, but faced to and from the driver, whereas in the Irish car the seats were back to back facing over the wheels.

          The first “jingle” was received with great applause and much mirth, and as at that time the streets bore no resemblance to a billiard table, it was necessary to hold on securely to avoid being fired out into space. No citizen  of that date was recognised in “society” unless he had been on Woods’ jingle. The driver on one occasion, after taking too much rum on board, drove his astonished steed into the waterhole at the corner of Albert and Adelaide Streets, and went to sleep on the front seat. Sarcastic bushmen woke him up, and asked if he was fishing. One of them waded in and led the horse out.

          A young man of 22 named Martin Collins died on May 2, 1871. His father was a butcher in Queen Street, and one of the family is still in the same trade in Warwick.

          A child’s grave bears the name of Irwin Maling, who was a military captain connected with a detachment of the 50th Regiment, which bore the name of the “Dirty Half-hundred,” a name said to have been acquired by their severe economies in personal expenditure, especially where ladies were concerned.

          Mary Jewell, who died  in December 1874, aged 41, was the wife of Jewell, whose name is born by Jewell’s Buildings, near the Grand Hotel. Her sister married George Myers, and another is the widow of the late Aaron

(text missing) Fahey was adopted by the New England blacks, who took him to the triennial festival at the Bunya Mountains. Fahey evidently was quite at home with the blacks, and he remained with the bunya tribes, who ornamented him with raised “Moolgarre” scars on the breast and shoulders, and gave him the native name of “Gilburrie.” He had been 12 years with the blacks, whose language he spoke fluently, when found and brought in by Lieutenant Bligh and the native police in 1854. He was taken to Sydney, identified by the Superintendent of Convicts, and actually sentenced to 12 months hard labor for absconding 12 years before. Fahey escaped and joined the blacks in 1842, the year in which Davis and Bracefell were brought in by Andrew Petrie. Fahey had a brother, a free man, who came out in 1852, and was in Sydney when his brother was brought in. After “Gilburrie” Fahey had served his time, the two brothers came to Brisbane, and went to work on Jimbour station under the name of Bryant, but “Bilburrie” was at once recognised by the blacks. Burke, the manager of Jimbour had been killed by the blacks in 1852, not far from the station.

          The Bells told Fahey that they cared nothing about his previous career; but he only stayed there over one shearing season, and went away to New South Wales where he died.

          The other brother, Denis Fahey, came to Brisbane, and worked for William Pettigrew. He was a tall, dark, powerful man, with restless eyes, and an uncontrollable temper. In a row one night at McAdam’s public house, some one struck him with an axe handle from behind, and he died two days after. He is buried in the northwest corner of the Catholic cemetery at Paddington. Some woman who loved him went out every Sunday and placed a bouquet of flowers on his grave for 12 months. The she married and went away south, and never more did flowers adorn the grave of Fahey, the wild Hiberian, brother of the still wilder “Gilburrie,” who lies in some unknown grave in the sister State.





“Death is here, and death is there;

Death is busy everywhere,

All around, within, beneath,

Above, is Death, and we are Death,

Death has set his mark and seal,

On all we are and all we feel,

On all we know and all we fear,

All things that we love and cherish,

Like ourselves must fade and perish.

Lost, lost, for ever lost,

In the wide pathless desert of dim Sleep,

That beautiful shape! Does the dart gate of Death

Conduct to thy mysterious Paradise,

Oh, Sleep?


What guilt,

Can equal violations of the dead?

The dead how sacred! Sacred is the dust

Of this Heaven labored form, erect, divine!

This Heaven assumed majestic robe of earth.

-Young’s “Night Thoughts.”

        Among the dead is one name well known in the Queensland State and Federal service today. On November 12, 1871, Richard Bliss, aged 44, was buried in the Paddington cemetery, and beside him lies his two little girls, Mary Sophia Bertha, and Maud Ethel, who had died in 1865 and 1869, aged six years and one year. Richard Bliss and family came to Queensland in 1864, in the Flying Cloud, commanded by Captain Jones, who was in after years drowned in the China Seas.

          The Bliss family, on arrival in Brisbane, went to stay with the Rev. John Bliss, at St. John’s parsonage, in William Street. John and Richard Bliss were brothers, but the clerical Bliss had been out some years before the other, and had ceased to be a new chum when his brother arrived. Richard Bliss became an officer in the Audit Office, and also the father of six sons, of whom one is today in the Treasury, one in the Lands Office, and two in the Customs, in Brisbane and Townsville. One son, the eldest brother, was a captain in the militia, and was present with Colonel Prendergast at the storming of King Theebaw’s palace. One of the daughters of Richard Bliss married the well known and deservedly respected Dr. Ryan, of Gympie.

          Mary Ann Hamilton, who died as a girl, at the age of 13 years, was a daughter of the once well known J. A. Hamilton, who was in charge of Dunwich for over twenty years. One of her brothers is a responsible officer in the Port Office today. Hamilton, who died some years ago, married a second time, and the second wife is still alive, and at present on a visit to a daughter in North Queensland. By each wife he had a family of six children. There was no better known man in Moreton Bay, and Dunwich has never had a more considerate or sympathetic superintendent.

          Among those in the Presbyterian cemetery is Margaret Stewart, who died on August 31, 1858. She was the wife of Hugh Stuart, who died on June 28, 1871, aged 73. Hugh was a popular blacksmith, whose smiddy was at the back of Menzies boardinghouse, opposite Jerry Scanlan’s hotel in Edward Street. Jerry’s hotel was then kept by a man named Fishley, the predecessor of Jerry. Stewart was an enthusiastic Highlander, and a great patron of the Caledonian sports. Likewise he was a general favourite, and a real good old Scot.

          James Paish, who died at the age of 26, on November 16, 1866, was a member of the “Queen’s Own” the 50th regiment, then stationed at Brisbane, in the Petrie Terrace barracks. This regiment left an unpleasant record. They were in frequent conflict with the police, and a source of many troubles. The men had an unsavory reputation. They were charged with various robberies, and never paid any bills except compelled. Frequently the police sent at night for the officers to come and take charge of their men, who had been arrested. Three of them assaulted Constable Colahan in Albert Street, which even then had an evil reputation, and had him apparently killed when the police arrived and handled the soldiers roughly, in fact the three of them were knocked out by a present day retired Inspector of Police, renowned for his size as a son of Anak.

          In South Brisbane, the redoubtable citizen, Paddy Fox, is the only surviving link that binds us to that Queen’s Own squad of 1868. When the regiment departed, Paddy was left behind. He was either too virtuous and abstemious to continue longer with such a reckless crew, or he was asleep at the hour of despatch.

          Henry Watson, who died on December 17, 1861, at the age of 38, was a young man of independent means, whose old country parents were comfortably situated. Watson married a daughter from the Grenier family of South Brisbane. He was the first man who traded in oysters from Moreton Bay to Brisbane. This was a hobby with Watson more than a source of revenue. He bought a cutter and engaged a man to bring oysters to Brisbane and sell them. The oysters in those days were sold at 10s per bag, or a shilling for a bucketful, and were a much better quality than we get today. Watson’s career was unfortunately cut off at the early age of 38, and the oyster trade languished for two years afterwards.

          Two children of Robert D. Henry died at Goodna in 1873 and 1875. Henry was then a warder at Woogaroo, but he was a man who held a sailing master’s certificate, and in after years we find him as captain of the schooner Tom Fisher, which was built on the Clarence, and named after Tom Fisher, the leading storekeeper of Grafton in those days. The schooner traded for many years between Brisbane and Thursday Island, and is still “going strong.” Captain Henry is at present residing in Ernest Street, South Brisbane. His wife is a sister of David Graham, retired Inspector of Police, well known in Brisbane, Charleville, Rockhampton, Townsville, and Burketown. He is now a resident of Edmonstone Street, South Brisbane.

          The first vessel Captain Henry had in Queensland, was the Governor Cairns, which was built in England purposely to be used by the Queensland Government as a pilot schooner. Her construction was supervised by Captain Daniel Boult, and she was brought over by Captain Cairncross, nephew of the Captain Cairncross who resided at Wattlebrae, near Bulimba. Captain Henry had charge of the Governor Cairns, for some years in Moreton Bay, where she was the pilot schooner. In the first days of the annexation of New Guinea, she was chartered as a yacht for the use of the Government. Then she had a term of service at Cooktown and Thursday Island. About two years ago, Captain Henry bought her a s a speculation, and sold her in Sydney at a profit. This vessel had a varied and successful career at least so far as escaping accidents or wreck was concerned.

          Mary Baird was the wife of the Rev. John Wilson, a Presbyterian parson, who lived near the Christian Brothers, on Gregory Terrace. She died on January 17, 1866, aged only 29. Wilson preached in the old Wharf Street church, and is remembered as a good preacher, and all round real fine fellow. He is the subject of a very comical reminiscence. Two immigrant ships had arrived, and on board were many girls, some of whom were of a somewhat frivolous disposition, girls for whom Mrs. Grundy had no terrors. When one loose onshore these festive ladies atoned for the restraint of the sea voyage. Their conduct was giddy in the extreme. Three of the choicest and their gentlemen friends took possession of Wilson’s hay loft under the impression that it was some peculiar sort of Australian bedroom. Wilson heard the voices and advanced towards the loft in the form of a hollow square, or some other military figure, and overheard remarks which turned half his hair grey. He turned and fled to the police station, muttering a prayer as he ran. At the station he found the giant O’Driscoll, the genial Inspector Andrew of today, and told him a dreadful tale. O’Driscoll asked him if he would like them all hanged or merely admonished and discharged. Wilson wanted them all arrested before they set fire to his hay loft. O’Driscoll’s office was then in Adelaide Street, next to the old Wesleyan church. He took two policemen with him, and Wilson, in a cab, and the four started for the scene of operations. The night was dark and heavy rain was falling. O’Driscoll got a ladder, and climbed up to the loft, followed by Wilson. Both stepped inside, and O’Driscoll lighted a candle. The scene that presented itself turned the balance of Wilson’s hair grey. Lying on the hay were three very scantily dressed ladies, and three gentlemen wearing nothing, all sound asleep. One of the three “gentlemen” was an American black, whose dark skin contrasted conspicuously with the snow white limbs of his “lady,” who was said to be a splendid specimen of a woman. The scene in which she figured was one that could only be described in a language that no reader of “Truth” could understand. And all this in a clergyman’s hay loft! It was blasphemy, sacrilege, atheism, and – most unbecoming!

          The stern O’Driscoll was so shocked that he held on to a rafter to keep himself from falling out of the loft. Wilson clasped his hands and muttered, “Merciful God, what sons and daughters of Bekal are these?” Then duty called, and the warlike voice of the representative of O’Driscoll’s warrior race, woke the three brides and bridegrooms up in a hurry.

          Seeing the colossal form of O’Driscoll standing over them, they at first took him for Beelzebub, and gave a yell that was heard at Sandgate! The ladies completed their toilet in record time, and the sad procession of six were marched down to the cells and locked up. They were brought up next day, and, after a severe reprimand, discharged. One of them was a humorist. He said they all went to the clergyman to get married, and as it was a wet night and rather late when they arrived, they did not like to disturb him before morning! There was necessarily a great future before that man, in fact he became in after years a Brisbane alderman, and what giddier height could any man attain?

          The bride of the dark gentleman settled in Albert Street, where she had a home for years, renowned for its hospitality to paying guests! Finally she captivated a well off gentleman from the bush, and he married her and took her home, and she became the mother of some very fine children, and was an exemplary wife. She had proved the truth of the adage that virtue is its own reward!

          To mention her descendants would be to heave a bombshell into a circle of some of Brisbane’s most select society, so we merely shed a tear and pass on to the next. It may be as well to mention, however, that Wilson’s yardman was responsible for the party in the hay loft. Wilson always said a short prayer when he thought of the horrors of that awful night.

          A well known son of that dear old clergyman married the widow of squatter Clapperton. She was originally a Miss Kendall, a very accomplished, fine girl, who was educated at the Brisbane Convent School.

          Graham Lloyd Hart was the three year old son of his well known father of that name, founder of the legal firm of Roberts and Hart, merged into Hart, Mein and Flower, then Hart and Flower, then Hart, Flower and Drury, and finally Flower and Hart. Hart was one of the directors in the troubled times of the Queensland National Bank. The child died on April 10, 1874.

          We omitted to mention that Irwin Maling, of the last chapter, was the Captain Maling who was private secretary to Lord Normanby. He was brother-in-law of General English, of the 53rd Regiment, the “Shropshire Dashers.” English married Maling’s sister.

To the Editor of “Truth”


The week before last reference was made to “Captain Maling of the 50th regiment – the dirt half-hundred- a name said to be acquired by their severe economies in personal expenditure, especially where ladies were concerned.” I never heard of the 50th being called by the above title, which in any case must have been only of local significance, as the regiment was universally known as “the blind half-hundred.” Through the heavy smoke of battlefield they charged a stone wall, that they mistook for the line of the enemy, and thus gained the title of “the blind half-hundred.”

          Captain Maling was aide-de-camp to Governor Bowen, and Brady, a sergeant in the 50th, settled in Queensland, and married a daughter of Chief Gaoler Sneyd. Most of our early volunteers will remember Brady at the annual encampments, and the mention of his name reminds me of an amusing incident that occurred at a camp held at Warwick nearly thirty years ago. Troops came from Brisbane, Ipswich, and Toowoomba, and the sergeant-major of the contingent from the last mentioned place was Brady. He was walking down the lines on Sunday morning, calling out “Now then men, hurry up for church parade. Get on the parade ground.” One of the leading spirits of A Company, Brisbane, V.R., now a middle-aged bookseller – not a hundred miles from the bridge – winked his other eye at some comrades and said, “See me start old Brady.” “Excuse me sergeant-major,” said he, “are we to bring our rifles with us?” “Rifles be damned,” roared Brady, in stentorian tones that could be heard from end to end of the lines, “who the …ever heard of a man taking a rifle to church?”

Yours, etc.,

A.   Co. B.V.R.





“How bold the flight of Passion’s wandering wing,

How soft the step of Reason’s firmer trend,

How calm and sweet the victories of life,

How terrorless the triumphs of the grave.”


“ In death itself there can be nothing terrible, for the act of death annihilates sensation, but there are many roads to death, and some of then justly formidable, even to the bravest; but so various are the modes of going out of the world, that to have been born may have been a more painful thing than to die, and to live may be more troublesome than either.”

-Colton’s “Lacon.”

“Oh, God! It is a fearful thing

To see the human soul take wing,

In any shape, in any mood,

I’ve seen it rushing forth in blood,

I’ve seen it on the breaking ocean,

Strive with a swollen convulsive motion,

I’ve seen the sick and ghastly bed

Of sin delirious with its dread.”


     Among the un-recorded dead is a half caste named “Macinnon,” who died in 1869.  He was the son of an old pioneer “Paddy Macinnon,” who was out in 1847 with McPherson, on Mount Abundance station, which he had taken up on Sir Thomas Mitchells’ description in 1846.

     Paddy was stockman for Macpherson, and is described as a wild character, who lived for years with the blacks. When the blacks finally drove Macpherson off the station, he gave Paddy all the stock that was left.

     In years afterwards, Paddy made periodical trips to Dalby or Drayton, with a small mob of fat cattle, and had a wild spree while the proceeds lasted.

     There was no Roma before 1862, in fact a sketch of it in 1864 shows a primitive settlement of half a dozen houses and the post office. Paddy had the usual platonic affection with an aboriginal lady, whose name was “Concern,” who bore him a son, the usual result of platonic affections that are prolonged beyond a reasonable limit, and when Paddy died at Forester’s public house on the Condamine in 1861, the boy, whose native name was “Wyreela,” passed into other hands, and finally reached Brisbane, where he died in 1869, aged 21 years, the cause of death being inflammation of the lungs. He is buried in the lowest part of the Church of England ground at Paddington.

     Buried near him, in the same month, was an old ex-convict named Tom Davis, who came out with the convict ship, Eudora, in 1838. After the vessel left Liverpool, someone confessed to committing the crime for which Davis was sentenced, and a pardon for him came out on the next ship. Davis worked on Captain Cadell’s steamer, the “Lady Auguste,” the first vessel that ever ascended the Murray. The Governor of South Australia, Sir Henry Young, was on board that pioneer ship. Davis also worked, in 1846, for the Tyson brothers, the afterwards well known Jimmy Tyson, and his brother, on some country they took up at the junction of the Lachlan and Murrumbidgee. Davis came to Brisbane in 1858, and went up to the disastrous Canoona gold rush, on the Fitzroy. He returned to Brisbane and was engaged by Murray Prior for Maroon station, where he remained for twelve months, and thence went to Toolburra, until October 1867, when Nash discovered gold. Davis went to Gympie, did well there for two years, prospected in the Bopple scrub, got fever there, came to Brisbane, and died in a friend’s home in Turbot Street.

     He had a brother lost in the “Fiery Star,” burned at sea, on Good Friday, 1865.

“A restless impulse urged him to embark,

And meet lone death on the drear ocean’s waste.”

     Ella Lavinia, wife of Daniel Skyring, was the ancestress of all the Skyrings of the present day. Daniel owned all the land where All Hallows Convent stands, and used it chiefly as a pineapple garden, where he grew some of the best pines in the market. Likewise he owned, known as “Skyring’s quarries,” to the present time. While Skyring grew fine pineapples and grapes, his wife and two daughters had charge of a drapery establishment, the “Beehive” at the corner of Queen and Edward Streets, where Hunter’s boot shop is today. Dan Skyring, jun., had a dairy farm out at Kedron, and brought fresh milk to town. It was pure milk, as there were no poisonous “preservatives” in those days. Daniel junior and his brother Zachariah, went afterwards to reside at Gympie.

     Old Mrs. Skyring died on July 27, 1863, aged 59, and the coffin was exhumed on March 26, 1882, and removed to the Toowong cemetery. On the tombstone we are told –

Weep not for me, prepare to meet your God.”

     Mrs. Skyring is now buried in the Toowong cemetery, near Governor Blackall, and over her is a handsome monument.

     Her son, George, in after years, was owner of Baffle Creek Station, where his first wife died. She was a Miss Waldron of Fortitude Valley. George died at Gympie, where he was at the time Inspector of Slaughter Houses.

     Miss Waldron was a sister of Mrs. Steele, now widow of the late chemist Steele. She survived Steele, and at present resides at South Brisbane. Zachariah Skyring and his wife died within a week or two at Gympie. Daniel, who had the dairy at Kedron, married a Miss Payne, daughter of Thomas Payne, a once well known and much respected farmer at Oxley. He had four daughters, all handsome, fine specimens of women. One married William Dart, now orchardist on the Blackall, but at that time owner of Dart’s sugar mill, where the St. Lucia Estate is, on the Brisbane River. Another is the present Mrs. Reeves, of Toowong, and the fourth became Mrs. Elferson, of Gympie, now a resident of Gympie. Daniel Skyring is still alive, and residing retired on the North Coast. The Skyrings were one of the oldest Brisbane families.

     George Dudley Webb, who died on September 11, 1870, aged 70, was secretary and general manager of the A.U.S.N. Company. He and W. J. Costin, the chemist, were two men chosen by the shareholders of the Brisbane Permanent Building Society, in 1863, to audit the books. Alfred Slaughter was the manager of the company, and old Robert Cribb was one of the principal shareholders. Cribb bossed Slaughter and had a free and easy way of taking deeds away to his own office, and some were not returned. This gave the shareholders an idea that there was something wrong, and hence the audit by Webb and Costin. No one doubted old Bobbie Cribb’s honesty, but he had a loose style of doing business, and the auditors found it necessary to enter a protest. This made the old fellow very wild, and he assailed the auditors in great style, but they all survived.

     One of Webb’s daughters, a girl named Alice, aged 19, died on November 14, 1864. His son, Ernest Webb, was a well known man as Resident Secretary of the A.M.P. Society. He married a daughter of L. A. Bernays. Ernest was an enthusiast in boating, and was an active member of the rowing club. It is quite certain that Webb’s early death was attributable to chiefly to an unlucky speculation in Mount Morgan shares. He was one of the victims of Billy Pattison’s foolish bet of £10,000 that shares would reach £20.

     Webb bought heavily and found himself involved when shares were falling. The prospect of failure broke his heart in a few days after the receipt of the bad news.

     His brother, Harry Webb, went in for pastoral pursuits, on the Logan.

     Daniel Petersen, who died on January 21, 1855, aged 46, was  a grocer and storekeeper, next McCabe’s wharf, South Brisbane. The business was continued by Petersen and Younger, the son and son-in-law. One of the sons was the afterwards well known Seth Petersen, who distinguished himself while in the position of Registrar in Brisbane, and in after years left for the south. One of his brothers was presiding at the recent Valley election.

     William and Ellen Scarr buried their only child at that time, on October 23, 1874. Scarr is now retired on pension, and resides at “Alsatia” on Dornoch Terrace, South Brisbane. He was father of Scarr, the footballer, who died recently from blood poisoning. Scarr senior had a brother prominent in racing, and as handicapper in New South Wales. Another brother, Frank Scarr, was a surveyor and land commissioner. A township was once surveyed on Bowen Downs, near Muttaburra, and called “Scarrbury,” in honor of Scarr, but the town never got beyond the name.

     A year old child named Moreton Bradley Lytton Hitchins died on February 25, 1876, his father being a clerk in the Post Office in the days of Salisbury, R. T. Scott, Crosby, and Lawry.

     A young fellow named William Ker Atchison, died in November 1868, aged only 27. He was a Customs agent, and a general favourite, but consumption ended his career in the morning of his days. In the words of Shelley he was

“A lovely youth, no mourning maiden decked,

The lone couch of his everlasting rest;

And virgins, as unknown he passed, have pined,

And wasted for fond love of his wild eyes.”

     In the north west corner of the Church of England portion, is an old timber getter, who was a cedar cutter on the Maroochy River, at the time of a remarkable tragedy in that locality. The timber getters were all in camp on Sunday, and there was a wild unholy revel on over proof rum. This began on Saturday, and continued over Sunday. One man, a big, powerful fellow, took rather too much rum, divesting himself of all his clothes, and started to chase the wife of one of the other men. She ran into the hut, got the husband’s gun, and ran to another hut, the rum maddened man in pursuit. She met him at the corner of the hut face to face and fired, the charge of No 2 shot striking him in the stomach. In three minutes he was dead. It was a dramatic and tragical scene!

     At the same camp, some of the blacks who were working for the cedar cutters were also given an excessive share of rum, and three of them went to sleep on the beach at low tide. The rum had paralysed them to such an extent that even the rising tide failed to rouse them, so they were all drowned, and their three dead bodies were found close together on the beach next morning. The other blacks took them away and probably ate them, as they would not regard rum as a poison. In after years it was said that beach was haunted, and there were men who declared they saw the mad cedar getter racing round among the trees, and the drowned blacks walking on the sand. Others said they saw the ghost of Stevens, the botanist, who was murdered by the blacks in 1866, at the “Dead Man’s Waterhole,” near Mooloolah. The rum in those days was good, and men saw nothing worse than ghosts. With the rum of today men see nothing but devils, a specially ferocious class of devils with iron teeth, arms like those of an octopus, and the green and yellow eyes of a crocodile.

     Gilbert Elliott Gore was a child buried on May 30, 1875. This child was evidently named from Gilbert Elliott, the first Speaker in the first Queensland Parliament. He was proposed by St. George R. Gore, seconded by Macalister, and chosen unanimously.

     The original Gores took up Yandilla and Tummaville stations on the Downs in the early forties. One of these, Robert Gore, and his wife, Mary and child were drowned in the wreck of the steamer, Sovereign, outside the South Passage, at Moreton Island, on the 11th of March, 1847. The Gore best known in Brisbane was Ralph Gore, who was for years Immigration Agent, and Visiting Justice at St. Helena and Dunwich. He married a daughter of E. I. C. Browne M.L.C., of the legal firm of Little and Browne. One of Morehead’s jokes referred to this firm which he called the “Snipe lawyers,” as “the snipe is little and brown, with an absurdly long bill.” They had done some work for Morehead and the bill made him gasp for breath.

     When Gore died, his widow resided for some time in their old home at New Farm. During a voyage to the old country with Captain Withers, of the Quetta, she and that giddy mariner, contracted a platonic friendship of the kind common among sea captains, and he deserted his wife to fly with his new found love, forgetting his wife as the false “Theseus once in Dia forgot his beautiful haired Ariadne.”

     Old Browne, M.L.C., was a wealthy man, and chief owner of the “Courier.” His share went to Mrs. Gore, who is today chief owner of that journal. Of course, Captain Withers was aware of Mrs. Gore’s financial position, but captains are never influenced by considerations of wealth. They invariably marry for pure love, and live the simple life – when there is no chance of any other variety.

     Ralph Gore inherited a title, and was Sir Ralph at the time of his death. This title is now borne by his eldest son, who is an officer in the army. There were two other children who are said to be still alive, and the infant “Gilbert Elliott” in the Paddington cemetery.

     William Holbrook, who died on January 15, 1870, aged 36, was a young man employed as jeweler by Flavelle Brothers and Roberts, of that date, and the neat headstone was erected “as a token of respect by the employees” of that firm.

     Harry Dobbin Shepperson was the two year old son of Harry and Mary Shepperson, and died on September 11, 1870. There is also a son who lived only for one day. This is the Harry Shepperson, a stationer, who has been previously mentioned as the gay Lothario who fled with the giddy actress, though some old colonists fiercely affirm that Buxton was the faithless man who deserted his wife to browse on fresh theatrical fields and pastures new. However, but for these “Bygone” reminiscences, the loves and hates of all parties concerned would be as a tale that was told by some unrecorded narrator in a long forgotten age.





Chapter XVI

They are gone,

And others come, so flows the wave on wave,

Of what these mortals call Eternity;

Deeming themselves the breakers of the ocean,

While they are but the bubbles, ignorant

That foam is their formation.


So peaceful shall thou end thy blissful days,

And steal thyself from life by slow decays,

Unknown to pain in age resign thy breath,

When late stern Neptune points the shaft with death,

To the dark grave retiring as to rest,

Thy people blessing, by thy people blessed!

-Homer’s “Odyssey.”

“Tis a long, ‘tis a last, ‘tis a beautiful rest,

When all sorrow has passed from the brow and the breast,

And the lone spirit truly and wisely may crave,

The sleep that is dreamless, the sleep of the grave.

-Eliza Cook

On July 1, 1873, a Scottish visitor, traveling for his health, died in Brisbane. His name was John Howie, and he died at the age of 50. The stone over his grave was placed there by his nephew James Isles, whose mother was a Miss Howie. James Isles came to Queensland in 1862, and in 1866 he and Tom Finney bought out the drapery business of T. F. Merry in Fortitude Valley. They continued that business there until 1870, when they removed to the cornet of Queen and Edward Streets, where the original title of the firm is retained by the widely known Finney, Isles and Co., of today, now fronting Edward and Adelaide Streets, and withdrawn from their old Queen Street corner.

     James Isles was a true type of old Caledonia’s sons, and the physical vigor of his race was transmitted to his own five sons, all of whom were champion athletes, whose performances are recorded in Perry and Carmichael’s “Athletic Queensland.” The well known J. T. Isles, of Isles, Love and Co., among other performances, won the 440 yards Footballers’ Handicap in 1888. In 1887 he won the 150 yards handicap and the 440 yards handicap.

     Very sad was the untimely death of Willy Isles, one of the brothers, at an early age, the cause being peritonitis

(text missing)

"...Fisherman’s Island was a dreary place, a patch of earth, a desert of mud, a sea of water. The quantity of driftwood was surprising, and the multitudes of centipedes truly alarming. At first we had some quantity of green grass, but A. C. Gregory’s exploring party landed and cut it all for their horses on board ship. We had to pull several miles to the muddy waterhole for every drop of brackish water we had. James strained mine through all sorts of things, but it never lost its muddy look and flavor. Influenza, fever, and ague were bad amongst us, and were only indifferently combated by quinine and strong brandy and water.”

     The James mentioned by Grundy was a James Morton, afterwards killed by the blacks at Manumbah station. In 1847 he had two mates killed beside him by the blacks, on the Clarence. His own turn came afterwards. Grundy said Morton had a mortal fear of blacks. His brother, Charley Morton, was either a first or second mate on the Boomerang, and he died suddenly one night at Mercer’s Hotel at Kangaroo Point, and was buried at Paddington.

     John Cook was a chemist in the Valley, the only chemist there 55 years ago, and his business was afterwards purchased by W. T. Costin, the present veteran Valley chemist, the oldest now in Queensland. Cook, the old time pill pounder, sleeps in the Paddington cemetery. Perhaps his soul is proscribing a teaspoonful of Celestial nectar, some ambrosial nepenthe, to angels with a “tired feeling” in the Elysian fields. And we may be sure it is “a tablespoon three times a day.”

     John Pound, who died on July 14, 1875, aged 55, was father of Jonathan Pound, whose son is the present chairman of the Southport Shire Council. Jonathan is still in robust health, and owns a lot of property on the shores of the south end of Moreton Bay.

     On August 8, 1868, a German named F. M. Raaaba, was buried, aged 57. In the year 1856, a German family of that name came to Brisbane in the ship Helena. One of the sons, a boy aged 13, named Charles, became, in after years, a prominent resident of Maryborough, where he finally settled in 1875, after years of teamster work to and from the stations on the Burnett. From team driving he went to hotel business, and kept the Royal Exchange Hotel, in Adelaide Street. In 1894, he became an alderman, and has been a good and useful citizen. Will some Maryborough man kindly write and say what became of him.

     George Hall, who died on October 18, 1855, aged 31, was a clerk in the firm of Christopher Newton Brothers of Sydney. He came to Brisbane for the benefit of his health, and added one more to the victims of consumption.

     It was usual in those early days for consumptive people to come north in the hope of recovering in the climate of Moreton Bay, but they were usually in too advanced a stage.

     Among the old time shepherds buried at Paddington, was Harry Brown, who was shepherding on Burrandowan station, in 1855, when it was owned by Phillip Friell and Gordon Sandeman, who bought it from the first owner, Henry Stewart Russell, who took it up in 1843, the first station on the Burnett. Several shepherds and hotel-keepers were killed on Burrandowan, and Harry Brown was speared through the side. Shepherding was a dangerous occupation for the first twenty years on the Burnett and Mary. Brown finally died at Brisbane in 1861, while in the service of the first “Brisbane Club,” which had only started the previous year, the first meeting to organize having been held in the office of D. F. Roberts. The first ballot for member was held on March 1, 1860, and the first club room was on the premises of W. A. Brown, the sheriff, in Mary Street. The first committee included Sheppard Smith, of the Bank of New South Wales, E. S. Elsworth of the A. J. S. Bank, and Nehemiah Bartley. They drafted the rules and engaged the first servants, among whom was Harry Brown, who never quite recovered from that Burrandowan spear wound.

     Since Brown’s time, the modest pioneer club, in the one room in Mary Street, has grown into the Queensland Club, housed today in the palatial building facing the Gardens and Parliament House.

     A girl named Sarah Ann Pratten died in 1859, aged 23, the age – from 23 to 26 – fatal to so many young women in the early days. Miss Pratten was an aunt of F. L. Pratten, present Deputy  Registrar of Titles in Brisbane. Her father, the granddad of the present Prattens, came to Brisbane in the forties, and was farming at Cowper’s Plains, today erroneously called “Cooper’s Plains,” though named after Dr. Cowper, the first medical officer in the convict settlement at Moreton Bay. Pratten senior died at the Plains and was buried there. His son was one of the pioneer surveyors of what is now Queensland, and did much useful work on the Darling Downs, Maranoa, and elsewhere.

     He married a sister of R. S. Warry, once a prominent Brisbane merchant, and she became the mother of six sons and three daughters. One of the girls married a son of the late Rev. J. H. Hassall; one married Leslie Tooth, grandson of W. B. Tooth, who was one of the pioneers of Wide Bay, the present Maryborough district. He was a brother of Atticus Tooth, who came from Kent in 1839, as a cousin of the famous brewing Tooths of Sydney. He and W. B. Tooth took up Wide Bay stations from which John Bales had been driven by the blacks. I n 1856, Atticus Tooth held a station on the Mary River, including the present site of Gympie, and had ten thousand sheep there, but a wet season, extending over several months, drove him elsewhere, and he married, in 1869, a daughter of D. R. Emmerson, of Bowen, and became one of the first squatters in the Port Denison district.

     Four of G. L. Pratten’s sons are alive today, and the three daughters still survive, two married and one single. Harry Pratten is in the Bank of New South Wales, at Rockhampton, George in the Railway Department, Paul in the General Post Office, and F. L. Pratten is Deputy Registrar of Titles. The well known Tom Pratten, late secretary in the railway head office, died recently, and Arthur was killed in Bundaberg by falling over a balcony when walking in his sleep. The present Mrs. Pratten, mother of these sons, was a sister of Dr. Hugh Bell’s wife. Their brother, R. S. Warry, started business in Queen Street about the year 1853, and in the year, 1862, erected what was then the best building in Queensland, a large brick store next the Royal Hotel afterwards the first office of the Queensland National Bank. He had two brothers, Tom and Charles, both chemists, one in Brisbane, and one in Ipswich, and both died at an early age. Tom was a practical joker of an unusual type, and a gruesome tale describes the most remarkable of his performances. He invited the principal citizens to a special dinner, presumably in honor of his birthday, or his grandmother’s death, or his best girl coming of age, or an imaginary legacy left to him y his uncle in Spitzbergen. In the centre of the table was a large, round dish under a cover. “I think,” said this peculiar joker, “that we better start on the principal dish,” and he raised the cover to reveal the fresh head of an aboriginal, who had been hanged that morning! It was garnished like a ham, with frilled pink paper, and the thick mass of black hair had a dozen rosebuds inserted here and there. The company first gasped for breath, and then some of them fell over the backs of their chairs. Others fell over the doorstep rushing outside, and two fainted. A bombshell could not have scattered that dinner party more effectually. It was Tom Warry’s champion joke. He had induced the authorities to give him the head for scientific purposes, and he explained afterwards that this was in order to settle the great physiological problem of how fright affects various types of men! But Brisbane citizens were clean “off” Tom’s dinner parties forevermore.

     Warry senior, father of all the Warrys, died at the age of 78, as the final result of a fall between a steamer and the wharf. One of his daughters married a Dr. Barton, and when he died, she married Dr. Hugh Bell. One of her daughters, by Dr. Barton, is the wife of the Hon. Albert Norton, M.L.C., and the other, who is still single, resides with her sister.

     One final anecdote of Tom Warry’s frivolity. He got about a dozen boys into his shop one day and painted all their faces in about twelve different colours, then sent them home looking like the broken tail of a rainbow. The sky blue, and the bright red, and the rich bronze boys, are well known citizens of Brisbane today.