MARCH 15, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
fond kiss and then we sever,
farewell, alas, for ever!
heart wrong tears I’ll pledge thee,
sighs and groans I’ll wage thee,
cheerful twinkle lights me,
despair around benights me.”
without a cloud hath passed,
wert lovely to the last;
that shoot along the sky,
brightest as they fall from high.”
Where this silent marble weeps,
friend, a wife, a mother sleeps;
within whose sacred cell
peaceful virtues loved to dwell.
softly death succeeded life in her,
but dream of Heaven, and she was there,
she suffered, nor expired with guise,
was whispered out with God’s still voice.”
An interesting historical character is James Charles Burnett, who died on July 18, 1854, aged 39. He was the oldest surviving son of William Burnett, of “Burnettland,” on the Hunter River, and he entered the service of the Survey Department in Sydney in 1834, when only 15 years of age. In 1842 he was deemed capable of conducting a general examination of the Great Dividing Range, which he followed to the 30th parallel and then came on to Brisbane. He was afterwards engaged on surveys on the Clarence and Richmond, and returned to Moreton Bay and did so much useful and excellent work that he was held in the highest esteem by his department, and by Governor Sir Charles Fitzroy, who requested that his name be given to the Burnett River, and that was done. Burnett had named the Fitzroy River in honor of Sir Charles, who repaid the compliment by requesting that Burnett’s name be given to the famous Burnett River, on which Bundaberg and Gayndah stand today.
like most men in those pioneer days, died at an early age, and
was buried in the Church of England cemetery at Paddington,
there being a large funeral at which the Rev. Robert Creyke
Shortly after his death, his horses were sold by auctioneer Bulgin, father of the late somewhat eccentric “Lord Bulgin,” well known to Brisbaneites. The sale will show the value of horses at that time. A bay colt sold for £14, a bay horse for £17, a grey colt for £36, a brown draught mare for £43, and grey draught for £35, and a solitary mule for £11.
There was much talk about a tablet to his memory, but so far we have not seen it, unless it is among the fallen and broken stones. The erection of a tablet or small monument to the memory of Burnett would come gracefully from a subscription among the people on the Burnett River.
was one of the men who made Queensland history in the old,
wild, rough, days, when life was very different from that of
Henry Garbutt, of Stockton-on-Tees, and Jane his wife, recall
an old time Garbutt family who lived at Coorpooroo, where
Thomas C. Garbutt owned a large area of land. He was the man
who named Coorpooroo, a word which is sadly mispronounced,
being always called “Coorparoo,” whereas “Coorpooroo Jaggin”
was the name of the South Brisbane tribe of aboriginals, who
pronounced the word Coor-poo-roo with accent on the second
widow married a Dr. Temple, who practiced in Brisbane and died
here. After old Garbutt’s death, his horse and buggy were
bought by P. R. Gardon, the genial old Caledonian,
ex-Inspector of Stock. The horse was a dark chestnut,
afterwards owned by Robert Gray, the once well known Under
Colonial Secretary, and finally Railway Commissioner, whose
first wife was a daughter of Dr. Dorsey, of Ipswich, and
sister of the wife of the late Sir Joshua Peter Bell. One of
Garbutt’s sons, and brother of the one who died at Cleveland,
was squatting for a time on the Logan. This was the F. O.
Garbutt, who in after years held a station property in the
Herberton district, where he finally kept a hotel at the
Coolgarra Hot Springs. He was a big, powerful, specimen of a
man. About 25 years ago, he and the present writer entered
what is now the York Hotel. Garbutt had a misunderstanding
with some aggressive person who had several friends present
and while he was engaged in a go-as-you-please combat with the
man in front, he was assailed by two of the man’s friends in
the rear. This made it necessary for us to take prompt action,
and Garbutt and “we” cleared that private bar in one of the
shortest times on record. One victim wrote to the “Telegraph,”
to ask whether a Queensland magistrate who had broken two of
his ribs in a bar room was a suitable man to hold a Commission
of the Peace? No name was mentioned, but he referred to “we,”
and there was no more about the little episode.
Garbutt left the Logan to go north, he was accompanied by
Robertson, an old Logan squatter, who afterwards took up
Wyroona station on the Wild River, a tributary of the
Mitchell. Garbutt is now hotel keeper at Mount Molloy.
Bront was a German seaman on board the steamer Shamrock, an
old time steamer that ran to Sydney from Brisbane in the days
when the small steamers Hawk, Swallow, and Bremer, built by
Taylor Winship, ran from Brisbane to Ipswich. The first was
the Experiment, built by James Canning Pearce.
in those days, had a fine garden and orangery, from where the
present Palace Hotel is along the river west to the baths and
the North Quay Ferry at South Brisbane. Paulus Bront, on June
26, 1854, was walking ashore from the steamer on a plank, fell
off, and was drowned, as scores of men have been since then to
the present time, at the Brisbane wharves.
Swallow, of Winship, and the Experiment, of Pearce, sank at
the wharves in the river, the Swallow drowning her steward as
a Doncaster cemetery is the following quaint epitaph on two
lyeth two brothers by misfortune surrounded,
of his wounds and the other was drowned.”
Thomas Clay and his wife Elizabeth, buried a five years’ old
child on July 31, 1872. Clay was a clerk in the Lands Office
in Brisbane, but he got an appointment in the Agent General’s
Office in London and left Queensland.
second daughter of Montague Stanley, R.S.A., died on June 24,
1864, aged 22. Stanley, as the R.S.A., indicates, was a member
of the Royal Society of Artists, and practised his profession
in Edinburgh. He was, perhaps, the first professional artist
whose family came to Brisbane, and two of his sons became well
known men in Queensland. One was F. D. G. Stanley, the
Government Architect, who designed a great number of our
public buildings, including Parliament House and the Supreme
Court, and the other was for many years Engineer for Railways,
connected with the department from the time the first section
of a Queensland railway was made in 1864, from Ipswich to the
Little Liverpool Range, a distance of 21 miles, by Peto,
Brassey and Betts, whose tender was for £86,900, or £4,000 a
mile. The first Victorian railway cost £38,000 per mile, South
Australia £28,000, and New South Wales £40,000.
Queensland line from Ipswich to Dalby, crossing the Liverpool
and main ranges, cost £10,600.
Stanley, son of artist Stanley, was a capable man, whose
integrity was never questioned. The first Queensland railways
were by far the cheapest and most substantial of all the first
Australian tracks, and all constructed since under Stanley or
Ballard have held a deservedly high reputation.
Stanley, the artist, never came to Queensland! He died at
Rothsay, in Scotland, but his sons came to Queensland, and the
mother and the rest of the family followed. H. C. Stanley, the
engineer, has four sons and four daughters one of whom,
Pearlie Stanley, married Victor Drury, the solicitor, now
practicing at Dalby.
F. D. G. Stanley had three sons and four daughters. His son,
M. T. Stanley married Mary McIlwraith, daughter of Sir Thomas,
and her sister Jessie married a Mr. Gostling, now residing at
Sherwood. M. T. Stanley is an architect, his brother Ronald is
in the Commissioner for Railways Office. One of H. C.
Stanley’s sons, also H. C., is now in Townsville, and another
son, Talbot, is in charge of the Gayndah extension. A son of
F. D. G. Stanley, who died some years ago, is an Inspector in
the Works Office. H. C. Stanley, senior, was recently on a
visit to Brisbane, which he left last Tuesday. He has an
office in Sydney and a branch in Brisbane.
man named George Perrin, said to be a descendant of that
Perrin who fought the heavy weight, bare handed battle with
Johnson, back in the eighteenth century, is buried in the
Church of England cemetery. Perrin was one of the stockmen on
Burrandowan, when that station was held by Philip Friell, and
Gordon Sandeman, who bought it from Stuart Russell, author of
the “Genesis of Queensland.”
was a man with a remarkable history, which would make
interesting reading, but would require at least a chapter for itself. It is
enough here to say that he died of heart disease on board the
steamer Argo, off Cape Horn, on September 17, 1853, aged 48.
He was a son of Captain Friell, who was killed in India, while
a captain in the Duke of Wellington’s Own Regiment. Friell’s
life was saved on Burrandowan by George Perrin. Friell was
asleep under a tree, holding the reins of his bridle, and
Perrin was lying face downwards about 20 yards away with his
gun beside him. Hearing a slight noise, he raised his head in
time to see a tall black close to Friell, and just poising a
brigalow hand spear to drive through him. Perrin acted
promptly, and the black fell dead with his head within three
yards of Friell, who awoke with great celerity.
was one of the typical bushmen at the dinner given to the Duke
of Edinburgh, in Brisbane, in 1868. The ball to the Duke was
given in Christopher Newton and Co.’s store, in Eagle Street.
At the dinner the Duke proposed the toast of “The Ladies.”
Perrin, just for fun, dined as he would have dined in a
shepherd’s hut. He cut his bread in his hand, and used his
knife as a fork, drank his tea out of the saucer, with a noise
like a cow drinking the last water out of a puddle, and asked
a horrified swell opposite to “Chuck us over the mustard
joker, one of the Coomera River Brinsteads, saw the humour of
the situation, and posed as the wild timbergetter.
and Perrin caused a lot of amusement, and even the Duke had to
smile. Perrin died in 1869, and was buried during heavy rain.
Even the grave was half filled with water running down from
the side of the ridge. Some grimly humorous bushman remarked
“If some rum were mixed with that water it would agree better
with old George!”
had married an immigrant girl, a most cantankerous person, who
gave him an awful time, but one day she was bitten by a black
snake and died within an hour. George afterwards said that the
snake died first! In a Devonshire cemetery is the following
wife of Gideon Bligh,
this stone doth lie,
was she e’er known to do,
husband told her to.”
have suited Mrs. Perrin’s gravestone, also, we grieve to say,
a lot of other ladies’ monuments.
George Morris, who died in 1865, was a son of the wife of
Judge Lutwyche, by her first husband, whose name was Morris.
Harry was a young man of only 25 when he died from the effects
of some gastric trouble, contracted when on a visit to Kedron
Brook. A fall over a stump aggravated the trouble, in fact was
supposed to be the fatal agent, and he died on the following
day. His sister, Miss Morris, step-daughter of Judge Lutwyche,
is now the wife of A. G. Vaughan, the well known Government
Lutwyche after whom the Brisbane suburb was named, invariably
treated Miss Morris with all the consideration he could have
given his own daughter and recognised her as such in his will.
Lyons Burke, who died on August 26, 1868, aged 35, was
secretary of the Brisbane Hospital and a prominent member of
the Masonic body, who gave him a Masonic funeral.
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
true love though given in vain, in vain;
sweet is Death who puts an end to pain:
not which is sweeter, no, not I
art thou sweet! Than bitter death must be;
thou art bitter; sweet be death to me.
if death be sweeter, let me die.
love, that seems not made to fade away,
death that seems to make us loveless clay.
not which is sweeter, no not I.
would follow love, if that could be;
must follow death, who calls for me;
I follow, I follow! Let me die.
young man named Robert Mauley died on February 14, 1855, aged
23. This rather rare name was once famous among the warriors
of a past age. In Scott’s “Lord of the Isles,” is the
following passage, giving some of the English knights who
fought under Edward at Bannockburn.
Montague, and Mauley came,
Courtney’s pride and Percy’s fame;
known too well in Scotland’s war
Falkirk, Methven and Dunbar,
broader yet in after years
Cressy red and fell Poitiers.”
It may be that the youth in the Paddington cemetery had some of the blood of those old warrior ancestors.
man named George Arthur Smith died on March 24, 1868. Smith
came to Victoria in 1861, in a ship called the Donald Mackay,
which on the same trip brought out the late Bishop Quinn, and
Dr. Cani, who afterwards became Bishop of Central Queensland.
Also the well known surveyor P O 'Kelly, of Maryborough, a
fine old Irish gentleman, a boy of the olden time, who arrived
there on January 1, 1863, the year in which no rain fell for
ten months, followed by a wet season of four months. George
Smith was a ganger on the railway, when the tunnel was being
cut through the Little Liverpool Range, and afterwards a
sub-contractor under John Gibbons, a contractor who gave his
name to “Gibbon’s camp,” known as such for many years on the
Toowoomba railway line.
was once partner with Randall in railway and building
contracts in New South Wales and the well known “Randall’s
Terrace” of nine houses in Newtown, in Sydney, bears Randall’s
name as the builder and first owner. House no 9 had the credit
of being haunted.
was injured in a premature blast on the railway, and was
brought to the Brisbane hospital, where he died, aged 47. John
Gibbons had a stone erected over his grave, but it is amongst
those that are smashed. Gibbon’s widow in after years married
Detective Sergeant McGlone, who came from Sydney to
Queensland, and arrested Frank Gardiner, the bushranger, at
Apis Creek, on the road to Clermont where he was living under
the name of Christie, and had a small store and butcher’s
old time honored Queensland pioneer family are recalled by the
graves of John Edmund and William Alexander, two children of
John and Margaret Hardgrave. The first was the third son, who
died on October 30, 1860, aged a year and a half, and the
other died 11 days afterwards at the age of five and a half.
He was the first son. The late John Hardgrave was born in
Louth, and educated in Dublin. His wife, who survives him, was
a Miss Blair, a very handsome woman, who was born at
Ballymeena, in Ireland, within 50 yards of the house in which
General White was born, and after the death of her parents
came to Queensland with her uncle Reed (afterwards engineer of
the steamer Hawk), in 1849, and was married six months
afterwards to John Hardgrave. The young couple at first
resided in one of three brick cottages built up in the convict
days as residences for the officials, and situated where Ned
Sheridan’s shop is today, near the Longreach Hotel, where the
convict workshop and lumber yard stood in those old wild days.
The soldier’s barracks were on the corner now occupied by the
Geological Museum. One of the brick cottages was afterwards
fixed up as the first Church of England in what is now
Queensland. Mrs. Hardgrave saw that church opening by the
Bishop of Newcastle, she attended there for fifty years and
then saw it pulled down. How many people go to church for 50
had five sons and three daughters, including the two boys who
died 47 years ago, and one daughter, Mrs. Campbell, who died
recently. John Hardgrave, who died last year, was one of
Brisbane’s best known men, and one of the most respected. At
death he was chairman of the Board of Waterworks, a position
he held for many years.
the graves is a son of the Rev. Thomas Jones, a schoolboy, who
was a great favourite. On the day of the funeral the scholars
of St. John’s school would not allow the coffin to be placed
on the hearse. They formed relay parties and carried it all
the way to the cemetery.
too, is the son of John Scott, who was once Chairman of
Committees, and lived for many years in the house at Milton,
close to the railway cutting on the north side of the station.
him, in the old house on the hill, in what was “Walsh’s
Paddock”, lived the redoubtable Henry Walsh, father of the
beauteous “Coojee,” and once Speaker of the House. Beyond
Scott, at Auchenflower, lived Sir Thomas McIlwraith, and
within 50 yards of the brewery was “Papa” Pinnock, P.M. When
the famous “Steel Rail” discussion was raging, a railway guard
was promptly sacked for calling to the driver to call at
Eliza Young, a girl of 16, died in 1874. Her father was a
Chinese settler who was once a clerk in the old firm of J. and
G. Harris, and afterwards ferryman between North and South
Brisbane from the present Queen’s Wharf at the foot of Russell
Street. He married a woman of good family, her brother having
an interest in the firm of R. Towns and Co. Young was a cook
on her father’s station.
of Young’s sons, Ernest, was for a time teacher in the South
Brisbane school, and another kept a fish shop for some time in
Melbourne Street, near Grey Street. A daughter, Katie Young, a
good looking girl, was for years with a firm of storekeepers
in Boundary Street, then married a son of Benjamin Babbidge,
once Mayor of Brisbane, had two children, and died of typhoid
fever. Old Young and his wife still reside in South Brisbane.
Orr, who died on March 15, 1863, aged 58, was wife of a
Constable Orr of that period, and mother of three daughters
and a son. The daughter Maggie became the wife of Peter
Phillips, the present day tailor, and her sister Jane, who
remained single, still resides in Boundary Street, near
Vulture Street. Her sister Phoebe and the brother died long
ago. Constable Orr on one occasion was escorting some
prisoners to Sydney. The steamers in those days called at
Newcastle, and while there it appears that Orr’s vigilance was
relaxed long enough to allow the prisoners to escape, and as a
result of that he left the police force.
sad was the drowning of a handsome young fellow who was a
nephew of Dr. Simpson, who had charge of the Government stock
at Redbank. The nephew was an only son of Dr. Simpson’s
sister, who was a widow in the old country. The doctor sent
for this nephew to come out and stay with him, intending to
make him a present of “Wolston” of which Dr. Simpson was the
first owner. The nephew, who was only 27 years of age, was
crossing the river from Wolston to the coal pits, the boat
capsized, and he was drowned. This was a cruel blow to Dr.
Simpson, who soon afterwards sold Wolston to the late Matthew
Goggs, and went to England.
sister of Goggs married Captain Coley, who was once
Sergeant-at-Arms, and died by his own hand in the small
cottage still standing in George Street, near Harris Terrace.
One of his daughters was married to C. B. Dutton, once
Minister for Lands.
Fleming, who died on March 7, 1872, aged 55, is said to have
been the squatter who once held Burenda station, on the
Campbell, who died on May 22, 1866, aged 29, was the wife of
Constable Alexander Campbell, who at the time was stationed
with a detachment of Native Police at Humpybong. Governor
Bowen was there on a visit on the day Mrs. Campbell died.
Cox, who died on April 17, 1873, aged 29, was the youngest
daughter of Sarah and William Cox. Cox was a warder in the
gaol, and died within the last two years.
William Saville, who died on March 5, 1869, aged 36, was a
groom employed in Duncan McLennan’s livery stables, and he was
thrown from his horse and killed in George Street.
H. Watson, who died on May 5, 1868, aged 61, was the builder
of the Commercial Hotel, in Edward Street, and kept a boarding
house near there. One of his sons was afterwards the
well-known Watson, the plumber, who became one of the mayors
Palmer, who died on July 12, 1867, aged 60, was one of the two
brothers who started a ginger beer and cordial factory beside
the present police court.
the Palmers the business passed into the hands of one who was
then in their service, the well-known Marchant of the present
Thomasena Deacon Ferguson was a child of a year and 10 months,
and died on September 18, 1865, the mother being a sister of
John Petrie, and aunt of the present Toombul Petrie. She was
the wife of the late Inspector of Works, Ferguson, one of the
biggest men in Queensland, and with a heart to match. Among
his numerous works he superintended the erection of the
lighthouse on Sandy Cape in 1872, when the blacks carried all
the material and rations from the beach to the top of the sand
hill, 315 feet in height, exactly the same height as the hill
on which the Double Island lighthouse stands. Bob was a giant
with a giant’s strength. One night in Mrs. McGregor’s Hotel in
Rockhampton, the same grand old Highland woman who afterwards
kept the Great Northern Hotel in Cooktown, an aggressive
Hibernian gentleman, named Barry, whose brother married Miss
McGregor, made himself unpleasant, and finally sparred up to
Ferguson, as a bantam rooster might spar at a cassowary. Bob
rose, quietly grabbed Barry by the neck of the coat and the
northwest cape of his pants, and heaved him head first, not at
the door, but against a thin partition. Barry went through
this partition, took half of it with him, and disappeared!
Then Ferguson sat down and ordered drinks for the company as
if nothing had happened.
man named Harry Burrows died on March 9, 1862, aged 45. He was
working for Crown Lands Commissioner and Surveyor J. C.
Bidwell, when that official was running a marked tree line
from Maryborough to Brisbane. That line went through the
present site of Gympie, and it is certain that Bidwell found
gold there 15 years before any was found by Nash. That was
clearly proved in after years by G. W. Dart, who was one of
Bidwell’s party, and who wrote an account of the gold find to
one of the Maryborough papers. Dart saw the gold, and said
Bidwell showed it to many of his friends. Bidwell never
finished his track, as severe privations in the scrubs in wet
weather, with poor food, laid the foundations of an illness
that killed him, and he died and was buried at the mouth of
Tinana Creek, where can be seen today, the huge mango trees
which Bidwell planted, the first ever grown on Queensland
was the man who sent specimens of the bunya trees to Kew
Gardens, and today that tree bears Bidwell’s name, “Araucaria
Bidwelli,” though the honor should have gone to old Andrew
Petrie, who was certainly the first discoverer, in fact the
bunya for a time was actually called “Pinus Petriana.” Harry
Burrows was out with Bidwell in the worst part of his trip,
and had one or two narrow escapes from the blacks He
afterwards worked for Atticus Tooth, and also for J. D.
Mactaggart, an old Wide Bay pioneer who died at Kilkivan, on
January 16, 1871, an uncle of the well known stock and station
Mactaggart brothers of Brisbane today. Burrows was away south
in 1854, on the Hunter River, and in a letter written by him
in 1861, to an old Brisbane resident, he said he was in
Newcastle when an aboriginal named Harry Brown was burned to
death while intoxicated. This was the “Brown” who was one of
the two blacks with Leichhardt in his second expedition of
1847, when no one ever returned.
old resident says that in the cemetery is a man named George
Smith, who died in 1863. He tells us that this man was once
tried for his life on a charge of murder, somewhere on the
Downs. Evidently he means a George Smith, who was one of two
men, the other being John Morris, tried in 1854, for the
murder of James Tucker, on Gowrie Station. Both men were
acquitted, as the evidence showed Tucker’s death to be the
result of a drunken row. Two doctors were witnesses, Dr.
Buchanan and Dr. Labatt, and they gave two totally different
versions. One swore he saw no wounds to Tucker’s head, and the
other swore he was dreadfully knocked about! There being
nobody to decide when doctors disagree, the evidence went for
had a brother who was killed at Oxley, on the day Sir Charles
Fitzroy, the Governor of New South Wales, in which Queensland
was then included, was on his way to Ipswich, accompanied by
Captain Wickham, the Brisbane P.M., whose name is borne by
Wickham Terrace, the private secretary, Captain Gennys, and
police escort. They had lunch with Dr. Simpson, at Woogaroo,
and were met by a big escort from Ipswich, where the party had
supper at Colonel Gray’s house, and there was a swell ball the
next day, and an address was read by R. J. Smith, who was then
M.L.C. in the Sydney Council, representing Wide Bay, Burnett,
and the Maranoa. Picture a man representing those three
was riding after horses, about a mile beyond the Rocky Water
Holes at the spot where old Billy Coote had his mulberry farm
in 1876, and his horse ran him against a tree and killed him,
about the time the Governor was passing. His body was brought
to Brisbane in a two horse dray, and buried at Paddington.
above article concludes a series of eighteen, specially
written for “Truth” by Mr. A Meston, and there are proofs that
they have interested a large circle of readers, and been a
useful education for the younger generation of Queenslanders.
Those articles may be continued on a future date, the interval
to be occupied by fresh subjects, so as to preclude the chance
of monotony from too much of one particular theme – Ed.
recollect the date of arrival of the Fiery Star on her first
trip, also the name of her captain. I was present when she
arrived, but I made no entries then, although it was a very
important event, considered by us to be so, at any rate. The
Fiery Star belonged to the old Blackall Line, and previous to
her being sent here she was trading between England and
America, and was then called the Comet, being christened the
Fiery Star just before being sent to Australia with
SUNDAY MARCH 29, 1908
THE PADDINGTON CEMETERY
accordance with the promise made in the last issue, “Truth”
hereunder publishes a batch of very interesting letters
received from various sources on subjects which have cropped
up in the now concluded “Bygone Brisbane” articles. Once more
“Truth” emphasizes the fact that correspondence of this kind
will always be welcomed.
Editor of “Truth,” Brisbane)
Sir,- The Rev. Wilson referred to was R. W. Wilson, not John Wilson.
G. Wilson, of Queen Street, ironmonger, is a son, and the dead
image of his dad. B. G. Wilson arrived in Brisbane in 1858,
that is, 50 years ago the latter end of this year. He preached
his first sermon in the old Court House. It was on the site of
the present Town Hall. Mrs. Wilson only died the other day.
The stable and loft referred to are still in existence in York
Street, and the house B. G. built.
don’t know how the black was brought into Brisbane, but on his
arrival at the lockup he made a final struggle, and an
“up-and-downer” took place under the archway leading to the
lockup. The lockup and Court House were in the old barracks
where the Town Hall now stands. Sam Sneyd was chief constable.
There were no police in those days. They were all constables
appointed by the local bench, who had the power of dismissing
them if they did not behave themselves.
remember in the early fifties the uniform was changed from
blue serge jumpers with red braid to the bob-tailed coat and
stove-pipe hat. What fun we had with the hats. Sneyd was fond
of a joke, but when his stove-pipe was made a football of, it
got his dander up and he gave chase. How Hargreaves, the late
Chairman of the Waterworks Board, would stand at his door in
Queen Street and poke fun at him.
to “our muttons.” When the black arrived in Brisbane, he was
bound hand and foot. A horse dray might have brought him, but
no bullock dray, I am certain, was in Queen Street.
When the case was being heard the next day, Dundahli would cast his eyes round towards the door to see if there was any chance of escape. He suddenly made a leap- result, a mixed lot, the lock-up keeper, who was in the dock with him, constables, chief, and onlookers, all more or less engaged in a sort of tug-of-war, and the black did not try it on again. He was handcuffed and leg-ironed until he was turned off, after partaking of an early breakfast. It would have taken a good man to have put the black through- he was a strong, powerful man without fear.
In one of your late issues, in “Bygone Brisbane,” reference
was made to Dundahli. I happen to be contemporaneous with that
part of Brisbane’s history, and knew Mr. Dundahli, who in the
year 1855 (a long time back) was caught through a man named
Richards, who lived out at the scrub at the Three mile. This
Richards had a team, and Dundahli and all the blacks always
went into town for rations. He bought a bottle of rum from
Geo. McAdam. They put tobacco juice into the rum and gave it
to two blackfellows called Old Croppie and Andy. The blacks
were up there between Wind Mill Hill and Mr. Spence’s place
(the stonemason), and those two blacks took the rum up to
them. Dundahli got the first drink out of it, and half an hour
afterwards was sound asleep under a thick lump of bushes, and
Tredenick and Bow, the constable, and Sneyd’s boy helped to
day he was hanged, his black gin and two picaninnies were a
little higher up the hill from where he was arrested. He sung
out: “Baal me Dundahli, me another blackfellow!”
the blackfellow, saved many a person’s life whom Dundahli
wanted to kill, as he was the medicine man amongst the tribe,
and what Dundahli was in town this day for was watching for
old Mr. Cash, of the Pine River, to kill him, and take Mrs.
Cash away to the bush.
was with Mrs. Jones when they surrounded Cash’s place, and
Fogarty and another stockman came from John Griffen’s station
and told Cash to look out, for all the blacks were down at the
creek, and Fogarty went as hard as he could to Bald Hills to
send the trackers along.
Dick Jones was married from old Mr. Petrie’s place, and knew
all about it. Mrs. Jones died on Gympie thirty years ago, and
old Croppie died about twenty years ago, and old Mr. McMaster,
one of the tribe is on Gympie to this time,
Sir,- Having read your account of “Bygone Brisbane” in “Truth,” I have found that there is a considerable amount of doubt among some of the old pioneers of “Mooloolah” as to the truth of what you stated as to how “Tommy Skyring” met his death. In the first place, Skyring was not the murderer of Stevens, the Government Botanist. The real murdered was Captain Piper. In the second place, Skyring’s death was due to fright, and at the time when he was in gaol he had consumption that bad that he never had the strength to climb on a wall to be shot down by a warder.
murder of Stevens was brought about in this way. When
traveling as a botanist, Stevens had to get the services of
blacks to act as guides. Stevens engaged Skyring, for which he
paid to Skyring one pound. On passing a store Stevens was seen
by Captain Piper and Johnny Griffen to get change, and the
blacks mistook the shillings for sovereigns. They followed
Stevens to this waterhole which you mentioned, and Piper made
a demand for one pound, which Stevens refused. Piper did all
in his power to get that pound, and told the other blacks in
their own language that if he did not give it to him he would
kill him. Stevens was boiling the billy, when Piper went
behind him and killed him with Steven’s own tomahawk.
then made the other blacks help him throw the body in the
waterhole, and rolled a big log in on top of the body to keep
it down. Then the blacks found that the unfortunate man had
shillings instead of sovereigns. The three blacks then made
for the Blackall, and after some time Piper told some people
about that some wild blacks came over from Bribie and killed
the white man, and put him in the waterhole. Of course the
farmers at Mooloolah went and searched the waterhole with the
result that they found the body as stated above. Piper and
Skyring were arrested by the police who came from Brisbane,
having to ride up, there being no railways in that time.
being arrested the blacks were taken on board Pettigrew’s boat
– which used to trade between Maroochy Heads and Brisbane –
and put down in the hold with handcuffs and leg-irons on. The
police were surprised when a little later the two blacks came
up on deck. Of course they rushed for them, and succeeded in
capturing Skyring, but Piper dived overboard and swam the
river, in spite of the fact that the police were firing
bullets at him all the time. On getting ashore a woman named
Smith, or some name like that, helped Piper off with the
handcuffs (she herself being soon after had up for murder).
made for a cave and hid himself for over six months, the only
one knowing of his hiding place at the time being his gin, who
kept him supplied with food and information about the police.
After a time, six months, Piper made his appearance with the
blacks, with the result that he was soon captured again, and
getting him to Brisbane he stood his trial. Being remanded two
or three times, his chance came, as between the remands Tommy
Skyring died. Piper and Johnny Griffen then put all the blame
on Tommy Skyring, with the result that they were released.
and Griffen then made for the Blackall, and called upon a Mrs.
Maddocks, and gave the whole history of the murder. In after
years Piper paid them visits from time to time, always taking
good care that Mr. Maddocks was not home, as it was Maddocks
who arrested him the second time single handed.
above is a true statement of the murder, as given to me by
Mrs. Maddocks herself. It would make interesting reading for a
number of your readers if you could get a fuller account from
Mr. Maddocks himself, who is still a resident of Mooloolah,
North Coast Line. It would be interesting to get Piper’s
account of the judge, the trial, and his own hanging, the
police tying him on a horse the second time they arrested him,
with ropes all over him, and so on. Piper was heard to ask the
police: “You thinkum this horsey pig jump?”
Griffen a little later captured the bushranger called Johnny
Campbell, for which the police or Government presented him
with a boat and a plate of brass to wear around his neck, and
later still he came to Brisbane with the blacks, and camped
just on Kedron Brook where Captain Piper met his death by
poisoning with bad rum.
exact spot where Piper died is where Mr. Love’s (of Isles,
Love) house now stands, about 200 yards past the Kedron Park
above account may be a bit rough, but to enter into a fuller
account would take a long time –
I am sure that A. M. made a mistake when he says that Surveyor
Burnett named the Fitzroy River. The Fitzroy and Calliope
Rivers are in the 1853 maps called the Mackenzie and Liffey,
but were re-named in that year by Governor Fitzroy himself. In
1853 (see “Bygone Brisbane”) Lady Fitzroy was thrown out of
her carriage and killed. Governor Fitzroy was Vice-Admiral,
and in his days of mourning took a trip north, from Sydney in
the Calliope, a 27 gun frigate, and came to Gladstone and Port
Curtis, and did a bit of surveying.
calliope went up the river some distance, and the river was
then called the Calliope. A boat’s crew took the Governor
through the Narrows into Keppel Bay. The Calliope followed,
going by the sea or outside passage. The Calliope entered the
Mackenzie River, and the launch with a large party, including
the Governor, went up the river. Captain Heath, our late
port-master, was an officer on board at the time, and Captain
Feez, the father of A. Feez, of Brisbane, was a guest; also H.
E. King, the Crown Prosecutor, and many others, including
myself. The River was then called the Fitzroy.
F. P. McCabe was the district surveyor. He made the survey of the town of Gladstone and named the rivers running into Port Curtis, the Boyne and Liffey, which names appear in the first land sales maps. He also, in 1855, named Raglan Creek, and Mount Alma – we had just received news of the battle of Alma.
P. McCabe was the father of Major McCabe, who lost his life
trying to rescue the Mount Kembla miners. F. P. McCabe married
a Miss Osborne, whose father owned mines and land in the
Illawarra district. He was the only surveyor employed by the
New South Wales Government north of the Wide Bay district. All
the trigonometrical stations were named by him. His camps were
three times stuck up by the blacks, two men being speared –
one was pinned to the tent – and McCabe was nearly drowned at
Raglan Creek when it was in flood.
have one of the old maps with the Mackenzie River shown on it,
and Messrs. Charles and William Archer had similar maps when
they and others were looking out for country.
March 23, 1908.
Reading your issue of “Truth” on Saturday, I see a small
mistake re the late William Vowles, which says he was a
Devonshire man. Not so, he was a Somersetshire man, and born
in Bath on June 12, 1813. He came from Sydney overland through
Cunningham’s Gap, which was very perilous in those early days.
He settled in Ipswich, and built the first house for the late
Mr. Gossly. He was the first man married there by Archbishop
Poldney. In the early history of Ipswich he took a very
prominent part. He brought to the Sydney Exhibition, which was
then held in Belmore Park, cotton, coffee, and tobacco leaf,
all grown in barrels, which cost for transit alone £100. He
explained the cotton, and how easily it could be cultivated,
as all could see the pods and plant growing there.
cider was all right. He had it sent out by the hogshead from
Somerset and Devonshire.
in some issue the correction will be made.
Permit me as a very old colonist to express the great pleasure
I experience when reading those historical articles in “Truth”
entitled “The Paddington cemetery,” which include many records
of early Brisbane. The writer of those articles must have kept
a remarkably correct diary, or otherwise be the enviable
possessor of a marvelous retentive memory, for I knew many of
the persons and places referred to, and it is with a feeling
of delight that I weekly renew as it were my acquaintance with
people and scenes of bygone times. I had no idea when the
articles were started that they were going to be so many and
interesting, or I should have been most careful in filing them
away for further reading and reference, but, you know, the
“Truth” no sooner arrives than it is simply rushed. They all
want it, but I should be thankful to get it even at 5th
hand. Little inaccuracies occur here and there, especially in
the earlier articles such as “Ralph Rhodes kept the Sawyers’
Arms in George Street near the site of the old Lands Office.”
All the time I knew Rhodes he kept the Retreat Hotel. Rhodes
and his wife were a very corpulent couple, and his pub was
about the most popular in town. Meals only a bob, even at that
time, and mine host and his lady always considered their
great advertisement for their hotel, and so it undoubtedly
A par appeared in “Truth” stating that Rob Cowan was drowned
in Deep Creek, near Gladstone. That brought to my recollection
a sad event that took place years ago and left a mother and
daughter ruined for life. They are both now living near
Brisbane, and very few, if any, besides myself could give the
true history of this case.
Mac – we will call him- was a public school teacher in one of
the Ben schools, and was transferred to Bowen to take charge
of the Bowen school. He left Brisbane with his wife and infant
daughter, in the old Queensland (Captain Hirst). His
Excellency Governor Blackall was also a passenger, making his
first and only northern tour. Also a large number of New South
Wales and Brisbane drummers or commercial travellers.
went all right till the Queensland’s arrival at Maryborough,
when, it being a public holiday on account of the Governor’s
visit, the bottle and glass did merrily pass and towards
evening everyone was
–well- jolly, and more or less full of mischief, the drummers
taking a leading part.
wanted to go into the lady’s cabin to see his wife, but the
stewardess, seeing he was well “on,” prevented him, telling
him no gentlemen were allowed in the lady’s cabin. This
appeared to annoy Mac., and he tried to force his way in, but
was prevented by the steward. The drummers, bent on mischief,
advised him to come on deck with them, and after a few more
drinks, he went on deck still complaining of not being allowed
to see his wife and child.
allowed to see your wife and child,” said one, “Why did you
not tell us your trouble before? Why the Captain has your wife
locked up in one of his cabins, and if you wait long enough
you will be able to see which cabin she is in. I believe she
is in that cabin,” pointing to a locker attached to the paddle
believed them, and kept watch from the time the steamer left
the Mary River till off Bustard Head, when one of the men went
to the locker, and Mac made a rush and knocked the sailor man
aside. Seeing only a lot of old ropes and things, he asked
which was the captain’s cabin. The sailor pointed out the
cabin on the bridge. A light was burning inside and the
captain was taking his forty winks before taking charge of the
Port Curtis, Mac took up a position near the cabin, but some
of the drummers got him to go below to join them in a drink,
as they thought he might attack the captain.
stuffed him with all sorts of nonsense till the steamer got to
Gladstone, where, having business to attend to, they left Mac
to do as he liked. Mac, not seeing his wife in the cabin,
rushed ashore and made complaint that his wife had been kept
from him, and locked in the captain’s cabin during the whole
of the trip from Brisbane. The agent made inquiries, also
spoke to the captain. But all laughed at the thing, but the
agent said it was no laughing matter. The writer and the agent
went on board the steamer and saw a lady with a child, who was
pointed out as Mrs. Mac, and the stewardess said the lady had
never been out of the cabin since the steamer left Brisbane.
writer told Mac. That he had heard that people had been
“pulling his leg,” but Mac would have none of it. He knew it
was true, he said, and he would have the conduct of the
captain brought before the directors in Sydney, and he
declined to go on board the steamer again.
steamer left without him, taking his wife and child on to
Rockhampton. Mac. Made a report, filling 3 or 4 sheets of
foolscap, which he handed to the agent.
comes the trouble. Having neither money nor luggage, what was
he to do? No steamer for a week, and no one knew anything of
him, but the Gladstone school teacher agreed to pay for a
week’s board, and two or three glasses a day. He was advised
to wire to his wife, but no one knew if he did, as he left the
hotel next morning, stating his intention of walking to
wife was in Rockhampton, and when the next week’s boat
arrived, expected to meet her husband. Not seeing or hearing
anything, she applied to the police, who communicated with
Gladstone, to find that he had left Gladstone some nine days
before for Rockhampton. The Gladstone and Rockhampton police
were out looking for him, and he was traced to Raglan station.
Rob Cowan was in charge at the time. He was the last that saw
Mac., who stopped at Raglan on Sunday night, and left early on
Monday after breakfast.
saw him,” said Rob, “fastening the gate after going through.
He was dressed in light tweed and bell-topper white hat.”
After going through the gate, the track was not too plain for
some distance, as the sheep had destroyed all the grass, but
the Raglan track being on a ridge, could be seen from the
gate, and Mac might have taken that track, which only led to
Port Alma and mangrove swamps, and he may have got bushed or
killed by the blacks.
he was never seen or heard of from that day to this, and Mrs.
Mac. Does not know whether she is a widow or a wife.
blacks on Raglan were not particular who they killed. One
named Willie Wellington, was credited with more than one
murder, and the writer and Willy had a “go in” once, and
painted one another till both were exhausted. Willy Wellington
was over 6 feet in height, young and strong, but he met his
Waterloo eventually, trying conclusions with the “Old
Among those buried in Paddington cemetery, and not so far
mentioned in “Bygone Brisbane,” is captain John Williams, who
arrived in Sydney in the year 1826, being then 29 years of
age. He remained in Sydney 11 years, when he came to Moreton
Bay in the year 1837. Prior to his decease Williams often
stated that at the time of his arrival in Queensland there was
only one house, that of the Acting Governor, and he was the
first free settler to build a house. He had an order from New
South Wales to select land wherever he chose, and he decided
to settle on the present site of the railway overbridge at
Russell Street, South Brisbane. He initiated the first ferry
service between North and South Brisbane, and was the first to
engage in the coal industry at Moggill and Redbank. He was
also the first in the timber getting trade, and the first lime
burner in Queensland. On the Russell Street site mentioned, he
opened the first hotel and boarding house in Brisbane. In
later years he owned two vessels (the John and the Sarah), in
which he brought immigrants from the bay. For many years he
conducted a farm at Hemmant, then known as Bowden Hill. His
widow still survives him, and Mr. John Williams, well known in
sailing circles, is his only son.