Life & Death in the Sunshine State

In the early months of 1859, the Moreton Bay Courier published a series of seven articles titled‘Random Sketches of a Traveller through the district of East Moreton’, penned by an author identified only as the ‘Traveller’. These writings provided a snapshot of life in and around Brisbane during a watershed year for the young town. The Moreton Bay penal settlement had closed only seventeen years earlier, and the townwas still a remote northern outpost of New South Wales. By the end of the year, however, Brisbane was the capital of the new colony of Queensland.

These ‘Random Sketches’ provide a ground-level view of the district around Brisbane, written as they are by someone moving slowly through the landscape with time enough to observe the changing landscape and those responsible for the change.These are descriptions not only of the destination, but also of the journey itself.

The Traveller was a government official travelling the district in the course of his ‘duties’, and these sketches often descend into propaganda for the nascent colony, repeatedly imploring an imagined English readership to come and settle in the Moreton Bay district. The potential of the natural resources of timber and coal, and the rich agricultural lands, is constantly advertised, as is the ‘progress’ made in stripping back the dense woodlands to ‘open up’ the land for commercial exploitation, and the laying down of infrastructure to better enable that exploitation.

Despite the generally positive tone of the writings there are some frank portrayals, especially of Cleveland, which in 1859 was a community still coming to terms with an unsuccessful attempt to become the primary port and centre of trade in the northern colony. The town had slipped into an unexpected insignificance, and while Brisbane was the centre of a thriving hotel industry, the Traveller visited a Cleveland hotel that had not seen a customer for two months.

The style here is often flowery ‘journalese’, long-winded and over-poetic. It is employed to describe the feelings of journeying through the landscape, such as on the road to Sandgate:

Now then for the route, the forest road, the glades and thickets, the hill and dale, the joyful breathing of the health-infusing breeze, the mad gallop for a brief space after that timid kangaroo; to luxuriate in such revelry as this, makes one (makes me at all events), at times wise, plot some fortunate discovery, some lucky hit, or providential death of a rich old aunt that had given me possession of the means to wander where fancy wills.

In other scenes, such as recalling a first visit to 1840s South Brisbane, it captures the chaos of a near-riot following an alleged murder:

Passing up the road leading from the water side, in the direction of the accommodation house, we were at once in the midst, pel mell, of bullock bows and yokes wielded and hurled in fearful proximity to our persons. Yells of fiendish blasphemy were uttered on every side, whilst a woman, with her front teeth knocked out from the blow of a bullock yoke, stood shrieking for help in the midst of this rum maddened throng.

His flowery writing also conveys his sense of nostalgia for the earliest days of free Brisbane (he had lived in the area since 1842):

In fact, the old stock, the pioneer squatters of the Moreton Bay country, were gentlemen; they made no boast of their aristocratic acquaintances in the old country, and drank their tin pot of tea, with a bit of beef and damper, in social familiarity with those hardy bushmen who helped them to open out and secure those runs and stations, or rather principalities, which the Plutocracy of Sydney have, unfortunately for these districts, managed to engulph within their ever craving and capacious maws.

The overall result is a fascinating snapshot of a young town and its districts on the verge of ‘adulthood’.

Part One of this series can be read here.

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No. i
Kedron Brook and Neighbourhood
(Moreton Bay Courier, 19 January 1859)

To the Editor of the Moreton Bay Courier.
Sir; Many of the readers of your widely circulated journal are, in all probability, but little acquainted with those scenes of rural loveliness, that abound in the district in which all dwell. Having, in a recent tour on duty, poked my nose into many strange fantastic nooks, where men do congregate, I cannot resist the desire to make their various beauties known to the enquiring mind of enterprising men, although I am perfectly sensible, any attempt of mine, to depict those scenes of wild luxuriance that nature throws around the mountains and vales of this prolific land, must fall far short of giving a correct idea of their value. Yet, convinced of this fact, I still venture to hope in committing to print in the columns of the Courier some of these ‘rough sketches,’ I may not only convey some pleasing information to the Moreton Bay public, but at the same time draw to this beautiful land the attention of the philanthropist and men of capital as to its capabilities to support an industrial population, and a wide and profitable field for speculative investments. I must candidly admit, that I passed through the scenes described, at a very favourable season, when after fertilizing rains the country was clothed with its gayest garment of green-yet, when upon similar duties, I have previously passed over the mountains, and travelled through the glens, at a season of drought, and when travelling was divested of all those pleasing associations.

Cultivated vines at Nicholson’s farm, Kedron Brook,
ca.1865. The farm was known as Grovely, which later
became the name of the suburb (John Oxley Library)

Nevertheless I still retain the opinion, and here record it, that this, and the neighboring district, are, and will be for many years, the fitting homeof thousands of the over wrought sons and daughters of our Fatherland. And should these “sketches” of scenes in actual existence, meet the eye of some farmer lad in the old country, who fears to settle down and marry the girl of his choice, because of after consequences, let me, an old man, who would try to benefit his fellow-man in a way that God designs his creatures to be blessed, in healthy abundance, procured by the sweats of their brows, let me, I repeat, urge him to buckle too, without fear or trembling, and make a bold push for this northern portion of Her Majesty’s Australian dominions, where children are no incumbrance but, in a well regulated family, the richest blessing God can bestow upon an industrious man. As the limits of your paper will not permit me to condense into one article, the observations and remarks I have to make in the course of my “Random Sketches,” I will, with your permission, divide my notes under various headings commencing in the first instance with Kedron Brook and Neighborhood.

This pretty little stream of the purest element, in its passages from the eastern slopes of Taylor’s Range, waters a country of diversified hill and-dale, and affords numerous admirable sites for homesteads – the banks on each side of its course being of a rich loamey formation. A number of small farms have been purchased from the Crown, and are at present occupied and under cultivation by its proprietors, particularly in the neighborhood of the German’s Station, where the brook falls into the low lying land bordering upon the Eagle Farm flats. The evident signs of comfort and abundance, witnessed by me in my visit amongst them, would convince the most sceptical of the truth of my previous observation, namely, that Moreton Bay is every way adapted to supply the wants of an industrious man. I certainly, in a few instances, heard a little grumbling about the difficulty of getting a price for their farm produce; but on further enquiring found the market rates for butter, eggs, and potatoes, ruled at something like the following prices: Butter, two shillings per lb.; eggs, two shillings per dozen; potatoes, £8 to £12 per ton. Now, considering that many of our small farmers landed only a few years since upon the shores of this Bay, with a capital consisting of two sturdy arms, and the appetite of an ox, I could not sympathise with them about the tightness of the money market, and the high rate of farm labor, when I recollected they had gathered around their homes, (a snug farm of from 30 to 50 acres), a due proportion of milking cows, with the addition, perhaps, of a plough horse or two, and may be a nag to put their saddle on for a ride into Brisbane, when business or inclination called them in that direction. As a statement of these facts may give rise to the question how these things have been arrived at in so short a space of time, I may here observe, that the ordinary rate of wages to farm servants if single, is from £35 to £45 per annum, with rations; If married, and the wife assist in the farm, from £50 to £60 per annum, with a double ration; thus, a few simple calculations will prove how few years need pass over if economy is practised, to enable the servant to attain the position of master, and owner of his own freehold. Before I leave the Brook, to enter upon my sketch of the German Station, permit me to make one observation, that applies equally to every nook and corner I visited. The married women, in this sunny land, seem determined to be fruitful and multiply; for such troops of merry, healthful children meet the gaze in every clearing about the place, that one is led to hope much in the future for young Australia.

Where the Kedron Brook opens out from the forest land into the broad flats bordering upon the waters of the Bay, the German’s settlement is presented to the view of the passing traveller. This well known clearing was first opened out by a band of German enthusiasts who, somewhere about the year 1833, immigrated to the then penal colony of Moreton Bay from their fatherland, for the purpose of evangelizing the blacks then, as now, a numerous race of dark, untutored savages. A low long range of buildings in the wattle and dab style of primitive architecture, still meets the eye, as you pass over “the German’s blunder,” (of which more anon), and evidences the modest pretensions of these well-meaning people. That they failed in making any religious impression upon the dark minds of their black protegés, is patent to the community; but if they found and left all barren within the breast of the wild man, they stand exonerated in that respect as regards their location. They have well understood the advantages placed in their possession by the Governments of the olden time, and have managed to reap a profitable recompense for past privations and dangers, in the goodly heritages they now lay claim to. In making these remarks I would wish it to be distinctly understood, that I do so without the slightest wish to deprive them of their well-earned reputation as a moral, pains-taking, and industrious community; on the contrary, would bear testimony to their moral worth, and of the great good they have done by virtuous examples to the neighborhood around. Some of the old stock, feeling their individual responsibilities to the cause of God, have within the last few years gone forth into the vineyard of the Lord, with the laudable view of saving precious souls, in which praiseworthy undertaking all right-thinking people would wish them God speed. But the majority of the Germans, feeling the growing wants of their large families, have, perhaps in a more worldly-wise point of view, taken to the more lucrative business of farmers, stockholders, and dairymen, coupling with the saving of souls, that of bacon, butter, and other farm yard produce. That the change has been for the best, taking a pound, shilling, and pence view of the matter, is self-evident; for the wattle and dab dwellings of other days have been exchanged for mansions of more respectable proportions, enclosed within a freehold fence, containing a very satisfactory quantity of acres of arable agricultural, and grass lands. But let me add, with all their thrifty, plodding, and profitable system of trade and barter, they made, in my humble opinion at least, one blunder. They have kept possession, for upwards of twenty years, of a pretty bit of country, grown, and sold, some thousands of pine apples, tons of grapes and butter, thousands of eggs, cabbages, potatoes, and so forth, but never built a bridge over that quiet little brook that borders the station. The public gave them the free use of the land. The public for years supplied them partly with rations, and thus they have blundered sadly, in not benefitting the same beneficent public with a roadway over the bog, that I trust will ever bear the name of the German’s Blunder, until the friends repent of their short comings, and be friends indeed to the passing traveller.

Sketch of the German Station, 1846, by Carl Gerler (JOL)

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No. II

A wonderful description of a gentleman’s horseback journey though Queensland’s Moreton Bay region in 1859. Part Two visits Sandgate and North Pine.

SANDGATE AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD

(Moreton Bay Courier, 29 January 1859, p4)

HAVING in my previous letter conveyed your readers to the German’s Blunder, with the depth and breadth of which no doubt those who have travelled beyond that soft spot have become deeply acquainted, I will now, with your permission, take them over that Slough of Despond, and lead them with me, in fancy, wandering to the future Brighton of this province. I verily believe, that could the Brisbanites be made fully sensible of the value Sandgate would be to them, were it once established in public opinion, as a health restoring site for the invalids of other lands, they would take measures to make the road and approaches thereto safe, pleasant, and easy. The drive to “Sandgate” would then be considered by the fashionable world as a necessary recreation; and the families of our up country graziers and stockholders make it a point of spending the season at the Baths.

Even as it is, the track is equal to most colonial roads, and generally passable even in wet weather; but the creek wants bridging, and sundry soft spots (a la blunders) made firm. The country, after passing the Cabbage Tree Creek, opens out into beautiful forest scenery, thinly timbered, presenting to the eye of the traveller beautiful vistas of parklike scenery. As you pass through the forest glades, the nimble kangaroo is seen leisurely to hop away, proving how little his haunts have as yet been disturbed by the sporting men of Moreton Bay. At the crossing-place at the creek, a bush track leads you to the Bald Hills, and the South Pine, of which more anon. At present, let us canter along this very beautiful road, level as a bowling green, and full of ever varying beauties; magnificent building timber standing in every direction ready to fall at the demands of man. A ride of some four miles, after crossing “Cabbage Tree,” brings the traveller to the shores of the “Pine River bight,” the land gradually sloping away, upon the left, or as the sailor says, the port hand. The drive to the “Head” sweeps away more southerly, and at every few hundred yards presenting to the enraptured gaze of the casual visitor that beautiful view of sea and land, which not to see is folly, and to see and not appreciate, stamps the man or woman as belonging to the far from extinct race of Goths. Upon one of the suburban allotments at “Sandgate,” overlooking allotments at the Pine bight and Redcliff Point, has been erected, within the last few months, a modest building, composed of wood, and containing some half dozen rooms, the occupier of which professes to entertain visitors at his (the Belvidere Hotel). Three other mansions of very limited dimensions, in close proximity, compose all the present edifices at the village of Sandgate. Let me correct myself, and say rather in the environs of “Sandgate.” The allotments in the village itself, sold some five years since, cannot yet boast of possessing a bark gunyah. Why it does not may to the casual visitor seem strange, but to those who have been initiated into the system of land jobbing, so rife down here a few years since, the mystery is at once explained; the lots were bought up on speculation; and the holders thereof fondly hope to reap a goodly profit some day for their investment. In the meantime its Eagle Terrace, its Signal Row, and other beautiful sites for buildings, is left reproachfully in a state of nature. As I sat upon the headland, overlooking that noble expanse of water forming this magnificent bay, fancy conjured up the future busy and romantic town that must one day spring out of this lovely spot; and many now who occasionally view this scene of quiet grandeur, will perhaps from the self same spot look with loving eyes upon some noble vessel weighing her anchor, ere she commences her voyage, conveying some dear friend home, and freighted with the rich and varied productions of this genial clime; whilst at the anchorage, abreast of the town, will be seen numbers of vessels of various rig and tonnage, waiting for the flood to run up the rivers Brisbane and Pine; or else waiting sailing orders to proceed to sea. Aid who knows, but upon the next anniversary the regatta, which has taken place in the river so lately, may be carried out upon a grander scale in the waters of the bay, and in close proximity to this pleasant spot. Yes, gentlemen stewards, I warn yon, if you wish to give the ladies a real aquatic treat, you must shift your ground of operations.

Shame that this noble sheet of water should be passed by for this national sport, and the muddy Brisbane preferred instead. Readers! think well of my suggestion; and if you and I are spared until this time next year, may we be enabled to take our families to see the Moreton Bay Regatta at pretty Sandgate; giving our steam-boat companies, and cab proprietors a chance to make a few pounds extra.

Louisa Forbes, 1871 watercolour of the small seaside resort of Sandgate, when it was
rapidly gaining in popularity as a watering place for Brisbane's day trippers and holiday
makers. (State Library Qld)

One suggestion more ere I have done with Sandgate. Its easy distance from this metropolis marks it as a pretty site for a fishing company. Fish could be taken to town every morning, as the bay abounds with every variety of the finny tribe, from the luscious turtle to the prolific bream. Oysters of delicious flavor (although small) abound about the points, but those of a finer growth are easily attainable at the creeks rivers towards the harbour’s mouth, so that a constant supply might be in the market daily. Stone, of a durable quality, brick earth, and the lighter description of timber for building purposes, are still procurable in the scrub bordering the north and south Pine rivers. Thus, I give your readers a rough sketch of Sandgate, confidently hoping, and believing, that in doing so, it may be the means of drawing attention more pointedly than hitherto to the varied beauties and excellencies of this gem in the diadem that circles the frontlet of the salt sea wave, that falls so peacefully and softly upon its silver sands.

Reluctantly does the eye of the charmed one withdraw its gaze from this glorious scene, and memory stamps upon its tablet the sunny hours passed in the quiet contemplation of this picture, wrought by the Master hand Divine. And though years may pass away in other scenes, and the mind become engrossed with the cares and perplexities of life, still a word lightly spoken, or some passing remark of a particular shell, will recall with vivid distinctness the days passed at “Sandgate.”

Now then for the route, the forest road, the glades and thickets, the hill and dale, the joyful breathing of the health-infusing breeze, the mad gallop for a brief space after that timid kangaroo; to luxuriate in such revelry as this, makes one (makes me at all events), at times wise, plot some fortunate discovery, some lucky hit, or providential death of a rich old aunt that had given me possession of the means to wander where fancy wills. But out upon such maudlin stuff! I possess what thousands of the rich and-great would barter all their wealth to possess - health and a cheerful heart. And though my wardrobe consists of few habiliments, and those the worse for wear, I envy no Commissioner, or lucky squatter, the swag they carry at their saddle bows.

Now, reader, come down this sunny ridge with me, and let us jog on socially together and take a drink in occasionally of this Australian scene, whilst we run up the country about the “South Pine.” That deep green fringe you see there to the right, is the scrub bordering the branches of the Pine. A large quantity of cedar and pine has been got out of those scrubs, and brought to market, still there is some to be cut yet, - when the demand is sufficient to make it pay. The land lying between Sandgate, or rather Cabbage tree Creek and the South and North Pine, is almost everywhere suitable for agricultural purposes. A gentleman of the Southern States would consider, I have no doubt, a section of this country, with a dozen niggers, a very valuable cotton plantation. A small portion of the land in the neighborhood of the “Pine” has only yet been to put up to public competition. In the neighborhood of the Bald Hills we come upon a clearing, occupied by some three or four families who, although but a short time upon their several locations, have gone to work in earnest-securing their allotments from intrusion of stray cattle with substantial fences, erecting humble but comfortable homes, and turning the-wilderness into a fruitful field. I know but little of these people, therefore do not hold them up to view as model farmers; but I feel constrained to remark, that were their examples followed by many of our pseudo farmers, in their mode of acting upon the useful principle, “self reliance,” we should find scattered about these fertile lands more men of that thrift, far seeing, self-depending class of small farmers, than we at present do in these colonies. The fact is, we in Australia, want to get rich and independent too soon; we cannot wait with the necessary patience to insure ultimate success; and are apt to buy from the shop and stores many articles we could as well do without, or as is most probable could raise ourselves. The situation selected by these people, as I imagine for their future homes, possesses in common with many other places on the Pine, the advantage of fresh water in abundance, the river bounding nearly three sides of the clearings. I did hope to have spent a night at one of the farms, and thereby acquired a wrinkle in farm management, but the usual bush invite, not being forthcoming, “stay and have a pot of tea,” (although by the bye it was just sundown) your humble servant had to go further a field for his evening meal, and leave the Bald Hills’ farmers to enjoy the repast, unshared by the presence of a stranger.

Taking again to the track, we run the South Pine up some five or six miles to Cash’s Cattle Station, the margin of the river being densely packed with scrub; but the ridges and bottom along most of the route, well worth the attention of future purchasers of Government land. On reaching the stockyard at Cash’s, I found the household busy cutting and branding a lot of young stock recently run into the yard, and was much amused at an incident that occurred during the short time I was watching those important operations. A green hand, first undergoing the process of breaking-in to bush mysteries, was busily employed with the proprietor of the station and the other men, roping and securing a frolicsome calf. Not being one of those fast young men that are supposed to be up to a thing or two, whether in a stock yard or a cigar divan, he failed to get out of the way at the moment of casting loose. The consequence was, the two (calves I was going to say) made a surge ahead together, the young sucker taken to the side of its sorely perplexed and wondering mother, whilst the new chum took to the bosom of his mother earth, and from whose maternal embraces he was at once assisted by his laughing mates who, for a few minutes, thought from the pallor of his chubby cheeks, he had received some hurt: this mistake, however, was soon corrected, and many, not very flattering compliments was passed during the evening upon the young fellow’s fear of a bull calf. Cash’s shanty stands alongside the road leading to the Upper Brisbane and the North or Burnett country, and is consequently much troubled with the visits of the passing tramps; but I must do Cash the justice to say, that though his means and accommodation are far from ample, I never heard of a man passing his door without getting a feed or a pot of tea, if he required one. Rough bush hospitality may be sure of being secured by the foot-sore or weary traveller at Cash’s.

A night’s rest, and my nag well cared for during the interval between the rising and setting of the sun, enabled me to wend my way the following morning towards the Cabulture Creek, a considerable stream of water, draining the country lying to the northward of the “Pine.” That portion of the route running between the South and North Pine is very uninteresting and exceedingly monotonous, the traveler having to pass over a succession of barren hills, only reaching the bottom of one to find he has to mount to the top of another, so very similar, that one is apt to think, occasionally, the ridge he had just left behind him, had in some unaccountable manner jumped up before him to plague him again to mount the same dull rise. However the dullest road has a termination and this one, upon closing up with the river, opens out upon some very passable country, long rich flats stretching away upon either hand, upon which mobs of cattle are occasionally to be seen chewing the cud, “not of sweet and bitter fancy,” but their last meal of grass.

Shortly after crossing “the Pine” a road diverges to the Westward, leading to Samson’s Vale, in which are situated the stations of Mrs. Captain Griffin and her son’s, Mr. John Griffin. Upon the range dividing the “Pine” from the Cabulture, a very pretty view of the Glass House Mountains is obtained, and a fine view of the country stretching away towards the river’s mouth. Between the Pine and Cabulture rivers the country appears to he well grassed, although I believe its fattening qualities for stock does not rank very high in the estimation of our graziers. The North Pine is navigable for some distance from its entrance in the Bay; for vessels drawing from 10 to 12 feet of water, having loaded with timber in the river. This very important fact renders it very probable that as the land gets occupied and cultivated along the banks of the Pine Rivers, a coasting trade will spring up from thence, adding another valuable feature to the advantages possessed by Sandgate, and should the Land Company, inaugurated by Dr. Lang some years since, get speedily into operation, I have no hesitation in saying, that the directors will look well at the country about this neighborhood, for settling down a cotton growing and agricultural population.

Mount Samson, Queensland.

A few miles from Mount Samson (a conspicuous object at the pine ranges), is the station of Messrs. Jordan, Zillman, & Co., occupied as a cattle run. This station is noted in the annals of crime, as the scene of two barbarous murders, namely, that of Mr. Gregor and his servant woman, Mary Shannon; both of whom some ten years since were cruelly and wontonly massacred by the aborigines camping in the vicinity of the station. Up to the present the “dark skins” about the Cabulture and coast country are not to be trusted. A short time since a poor fellow was killed by them whilst passing through the bush looking for timber, his mate also being left for dead. Lately the Native Police have come to close quarters with them, and I believe taught them a lesson they wont speedily forget; and as the country gets occupied these outrages will become of less frequent occurence.

My route not extending beyond the Cabulture, I was necessarily compelled at this period of my journeying to make back tracks, and have therefore little further to add to this sketch of the Pine River country, beyond remarking that the land only requires those two requisites, capital and labor, to make it very productive. I intend in my next letter to furnish you with some particulars of Moggil and its neighborhood.

Read 'Travels in East Moreton, 1859 (#1): Kedron Brook & Nundah' here.

A July 2015 overview on what is happening at Brisbane’s Boggo Road Gaol and the buildings and tours there.

Artist's impression, Boggo Road Gaol.

The Boggo Road Gaol Historical Society has recently encountered a deal of public confusion regarding the future of Boggo Road. As with an earlier outbreak this year, we are not sure if this is a case of clickbait journalism or certain people running deliberate interference to promote their own agenda.

What we have heard this week is some people saying that there won't be tours at Boggo in the future, or that the place is being knocked down.

I have compiled a 10-point list below that covers the overall situation.

In a nutshell, the heritage prison will close later this year, and then be refurbished and reopened properly. Some of the proposed structural changes were discussed in this article. There will still be tours in the prison in future, with the addition of a museum and other new visitor services. The historic buildings and services should be greatly improved after refurbishment so we in the BRGHS recommend waiting until then to see Boggo.

As I understand it, the big picture looks like this:

The heritage-listed Boggo Road prison reserve is owned by the Queensland Government and managed by the Department of Housing and Public Works.
The working prisons were decommissioned during the 1980s-1990s and most buildings were subsequently demolished. The surviving red-brick prison is heritage listed.
That prison operated successfully as a heritage site, run by non-for-profit groups, until 2005 when it was temporarily closed due to surrounding construction works, including the Busway Tunnel.
In 2011, Leighton Properties were awarded a tender to develop the overall reserve. In addition to the existing Ecoscience building and Leukaemia Foundation facilities, new structures will include around 500 residential apartments and various retail outlets.
Part of the prison reopened on an interim basis in 2012. Premier Campbell Newman made a private and controversial deal to hand commercial control to a small tour business. Community groups were priced out of Boggo.
Calile Malouf Investments are currently developing a reuse plan for the prison buildings and immediate surrounds. This is still in the preliminary stage of assessment by the Queensland Government.
This plan will see part of the prison set aside for historical interpretation and Arts events. Other areas will be used for dining facilities. An indoor market hall will be constructed adjacent to (outside) the prison.
This plan proposes the removal of some of the newer (1980s) prison structures in the northeast corner. The original red-brick buildings - including all three cellblocks - will remain and be refurbished.
It is possible that the development plans could be approved later this year, after a period of public consultation. The part of the prison currently open will close in November. Refurbishment will commence upon approval of the plans. It is hoped that this work will be completed by the end of next year.
When the prison reopens there will still be historical tours there and improved visitor services such as a museum. Different organisations are interested in managing or providing services in the historical section of the prison in future. This includes the Boggo Road Gaol Historical Society and partner organisations. It is anticipated that a tender process will determine who will provide tours etc. We understand that this decision will not be made the Queensland Government, but probably by the organisation managing the historical section.

I hope this makes things clearer for any reader who wasn't sure about what is going on at Boggo. Hopefully the public consultation process will commence soon and then we can all get a clearer picture of the plans and what we think about them. Until then, I'd advise people to remember that tours will be running at Boggo for years into the future.

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No.III
MOGGIL AND ITS NEIGHBORHOOD

(Moreton Bay Courier, 5 February 1859)

No doubt many of the readers of the Courier have thought, as they progressed up or down the river Brisbane, per steamer, or otherwise, and taken a partial survey of that primitive looking structure, known as the Moggil coal wharf, that little could be particularized about that locality, beyond the fact, that one John Williams, some eight or ten years since, discovered a seam of coal cropping out near the water’s edge in that neighborhood; and after extracting some hundreds of tons of black diamond from this fortunate find, leaving a fair marginal profit upon his working capital, sold a company all his right, title, and freehold interest therein. Such however is not the sole fact; and as I did not proceed to Moggil for the special purpose of investigating and reporting upon those carboniferous formations, or with the view of drawing speculative attention to any such deposits, I perhaps may be pardoned, if I endeavor to amuse your readers with other attractive qualities of this pretty, and may I add valuable, village site. Before I do so, or commence my gossiping remarks about Moggil, permit me first to take your readers along the road leading from Brisbane in that direction.

As I am not in any respect a fast man, let us jog on in that sociable manner one sometimes witnesses upon the meeting of two old ladies, after having been separated some eight-and-forty-hours, and have a world of gossip to impart to each other. Having, therefore, fixed upon this quiet way of getting along the road, let us, as an old tar would say, take our departure for some well-known spot; and none presents itself to the mind’s eye so peaceably as this old fence, enclosing the mortal remains of those who have died, and perchance have long since been forgotten by those they left in lands far away. Yes! within this limited patch of mother earth, what relics of frail mortality lie therein buried, until the last trump summon them to the judgment seat of God ? What a host of recollections rise up in memory as an old Traveller like me, through this changeful world, moralizes upon the varied characters that here mix their poor dust together. Side by side lies the gallant soldier, and the thrice convicted felon; the guard and the guarded unmindful of each other, and quietly resting until the last great day. Here, perchance, the frail form of Innocence lies in peaceful security; and in close proximity to the housebreaker and man of blood. I give no fancy sketch here; the records of the past in this last sad resting place amply illustrates how Death levels all distinction when the spirit leaves its tenement of clay. Happily for this generation these records are all we at present possess, wherefrom to draw a moral, or “adorn a tale.” The presence of the felon and the debasing influence of a convict population has been spared us for many years past, and we trust our families may be long spared from those evils communications, that so rapidly corrupt the manners of a people. Yet, as we turn our horse’s head from the fence to proceed upon our journey a sadness comes o’er our spirits, as we contemplate that busy hive of human industry upon our right hand; because we know that at a cost of some £26,000 of the public money, they are there with building a Jail. Sad reflection to the philanthropist, that the first public building erected in Moreton Bay should be a prison.

Petrie Terrace Gaol, c.1862 (John Oxley Library)

However, let us pass over this ridge and leave these sad moralising reflections behind us; at the foot of the ridge we cross the town boundary, and enter the suburbs, comprising the west, or aristocratic end of Moreton Bay’s embryo metropolitan city. At present, the western suburbs can boast but little of its architectural adornments, and unlike the eastern or down river suburbs, has not increased in a similar ratio the number of its inhabitants, yet it requires not the voice of prophecy to proclaim the future of this locality. Passing to the side of the river we obtain a view of “Milton,” the town residence of J. P. McDougall, Esq., one of the Moreton Bay squattocracy, and who sets the laudable example of spending his income within the province wherein it is derived. The grounds about Milton, I may remark en passant, are being brought under judicious cultivation, and will very speedily form a very pleasant feature in our river scenery.

Crossing a small creek, by a very durable and creditable looking wooden bridge, we pass a quaint looking building in the course of erection, which might be very appropriately named “The House with the Three Gables,” having a centre ornament overtopping all, looking for all the world like a miniature castle of Blue Beard’s, with a lookout turret for dear sister Anne. It is here that indefatigable old die-hard, Honest Bob Cribb, I understand, intends to pass the evening of his days; and from his look-out, take an occasional view of the progressive improvements of the land we live in.

Crossing a second bridge of similar construction as the first, we pass the modest cottage orneé of the Moreton Bay Stultz (Mr. John Markwell) and take a glance at the beautiful vista presented to view, up and down the three miles reach, the cleared lands on the south bank of the river showing at the present season to much advantage. A short distance beyond the second bridge, the road inclines to the right hand, skirting the back fences of a beautiful clearing known as “Lang Farm,” and named after the worthy Doctor of that ilk. As my duties compel me to visit the various tenements and holdings in my route to Moggil, let us have a gossip and a look round the nursery garden of friend Payne, the present occupier of the farm. To enable us to do so, we will let our horse nibble the grass in the outside paddock, and, taking our course across the creek by the aid of the fallen tree, we enter the nursery through a magnificent grove of bananas, the pendant fruit issuing from which bespeak the richness of the soil from which their roots derive sustenance. In the open portion of the grounds some hundreds of orange grafts evidence the supply of those valuable and nutritious fruit trees, to be obtained here. The easy distance “Lang Farm” is from the metropolis, places it in an excellent position for the inspection of visitors, should the Brisbane folk feel desirous of spending an idle hour in the inspection of this very pretty spot. As my duties impel me to proceed further along the river bank, I must leave a more detailed description of Payne’s nursery garden to some future visit; and take your readers with me through this bit of scrubland bordering the Brisbane river; bearing in mind as you force your way through the pendant vines, or runners, interlacing and almost obstructing one’s progress in every direction, that great caution need be exercised to escape the tormenting fangs of the bush lawyer, a very formidable looking customer I assure you to come in contact with in passing through a piece of scrub land. To give your readers some faint idea of a scrub, let them conjure up in imagination a wood or forest in the old country, with the underwood left untouched; to which they may add any quantity of briers or thorns they may deem desirable to make the description perfect. I have often, in my young days, thought what a cunning old fox Robinson Crusoe was in planting the trees around his cave so thickly and impenetrably; but, I certainly think, the poor solitary would have gained a wrinkle, if he had dropped across a bush lawyer, to warn off trespassers; for I found out this much in passing through the same, pilley, scrub, that this indigenous grab-all, like those gentlemen who in towns do congregate, have very little mercy upon those persons who foolishly place themselves within their clutches. In this respect, the passage of an Australian scrub strongly reminds me of the progress of a Chancery suit through the law courts. In either case the luckless wight that finally gets clear of the obstructions in the way, will find himself denuded of all superfluous toggery. What an immense variety of shrubs, creeper and botanical specimens meet the eye in every direction; and the mind of the inquisitive is speedily filled with wonder and amazement at the bountiful productions of native wild. At last we reach a clearing:- a spot of some half dozen acres from which the trees and brushwood have been but recently removed. In this patch we behold a splendid growth of early maize, the well cobbed stacks of which give the hard working proprietor a sure token that his 30, or perhaps 50 acre farm, is amply worth all the labor he can bestow upon its clearing and cultivation. From 70 to 80 bushels to the acre may safely be set down as the produce of the crop, now almost ready for gathering. I found in this neighborhood several other farms, recent purchases from the Crown, and like the one described, giving unmistakeable evidence of what crops may be raised. From the scrub and forest lands bordering the rivers and creeks of this district, splendid potatoes, gigantic pumpkins, huge melons, and other vegetable productions, call up incessant observations for the uninitiated in these matters. However we will, for the present, leave our gossip upon the productiveness of East Moreton until a future paper, and in the meantime, resume our journey along the road to Moggil.

Footbridge over Moggill Creek at Brookfield, ca. 1887. (John Oxley Library)

Like all the roads stretching away northerly from Brisbane, the one to Moggil is very hilly; and certainly but little adapted for wheeled vehicles, except the cumbrous bullock dray. But the river renders a ‘road’ in this direction at present almost unnecessary except for equestrians. About nine miles from town we reach “Pullen Pullen” Creek, only navigable a short distance up for small boats. At the crossing place we arrive at the sheep station of Mr. John McGrath, who for some years past has done well, with a few sheep depasturing upon the country about the Pine Mountain Range. An immense quantity of fine pine timber has been procured from the scrubs, lying in dense masses at the foot of these picturesque mountains. Bullock teams convey the logs to the “Creek,” from which place they are rafted and brought to Brisbane. The timber cut from this locality possess a harder and therefore more durable texture than the pine previously obtained in the low lying scrubs on the river bank. I am sorry to say, the paucity of building operations at present in progress in these districts have diminished the demand for all descriptions of building materials. The sawyers in this neighborhood, in common with other workinghands, find some difficulty in clearing expenses, yet they put a good face upon present prospects, from the fact that they fully expect to see “a good time coming.”

Shortly after leaving McGrath’s the traveller begins to ascend a spur branching from the Pine Ranges towards the river; reaching the top of which, the admirer of the grand and beautiful will be amply repaid for his toilsome ascent. The view obtainable of the country lying to the eastward, and in the vicinity of these productive mountains, is very fine, whilst to the westward, their towering peaks, lifting their lofty heads in grand sublimity towards the clouds, mark the whereabouts of the splendid plains of Normandy, back up in the distance of the blue outline of the vast Australian Cordilleras; a couple of miles further brings us down upon Moggil Creek, and the cultivated farms of the residents in that quarter. The valley of the Brisbane in this direction does not embrace a very considerable tract of country, the land away from the river breaking off into rather poor ridgey forest upland although the cultivators of the soil at Moggil, have no reason, I understand, to complain of its fertility, very fair average crop of the usual Moreton Bay assortment of farm produce recompensing the exertions and outlay of the husbandmen. The Moggil district has much to look forward to in the future reasonable progress of Moreton Bay. Its underlying stratum of Carboniferous formation, from which coal of a very excellent quality has been obtained in large quantities, and which, I believe, only requires capital to develop their abundance and richness more fully, carries the mind of the speculator to that period when the steam traffic of this vast province will employ, and demand an enormous quantity of this description of fuel; for which the coal fields of Moggil and other localities will then reap a rich recompense. Moggil is further surrounded with mountains, clothed to their very summits with gigantic pine trees, thus possessing a mine of wealth below and above its surface. The removal of the 17 mile rocks, and other obstructions in the River Brisbane below Moggil, must necessarily add much to the importance of that locality; however, I will not pursue this interesting subject further, leaving the reader to make his own calculation in this “sketch,” of what may be made out of the future as regards the progress of “Moggil.”

Tree-fellers cutting timber and preparing logs for rafting at Moggill Creek,
Brisbane, c.1898. (John Oxley Library)

Before I finally quit this scone of rural industry let me make one observation, which I, for one, deem worthy of a passing remark. The first occupiers of the farms laid out by the Government Surveyor at Moggil, were immigrants brought out under the auspices of Dr. Lang; and, although only two or three families of that importation remain at present upon the original clearing, one memento yet stands upon the road side, that proves that the worthy Doctor’s selection of these people were not only creditable to himself, but reflect credit upon the land of their. The memento I allude to is the erection, by those “Lima” men, of a modest mansion, dedicated to the worship therein of the Almighty God. Yes! these travellers to distant lands felt, I have no doubt, when they sat down upon their several freeholds how much they were indebted to Him, for thus placing them in safety upon the sea shores; and their first fitting acknowledgement of His goodness was the voluntary erection of this house of prayer. Contrast this proceeding my dear readers, with that too often practised in other, and similar bush localities, instead of dedicating a house to the Father of all, we see them dedicating one to the Father of evil, and therefrom supplying those liquid fires that burn out and obliterate all that is good here, and destroys every hope of the good promised hereafter.

A beautiful morning’s sunrise greeted the vision of those who, like myself, had to be up and doing in this battle of life early. How peacefully, how refreshed and refreshing, every thing looked the eye rested upon. The dew drops flashed and sparkled as the gentle breeze waved the leaflets, and wafted up the aroma from the fragrant blossoms around. The cows as they quietly stood in the yard, patiently waiting their turn to be released of their milky burthen; and for a few moments to be, permitted to greet their young sucklings had, to my fancy, something of that mute eloquence poets often speak about, and which testifies a grateful heart.

A stroll down to the coal pit after breakfast, put me into possession of this fact, that the present supply of coal from the Moggil mine is not very extensive. The working scam (I found, upon making enquiry of a young lad who was using very striking efforts to induce an old horse to take his everlasting round at the mill crank, that put a force pump in motion) was at present nearly exhausted, only one man being then employed to get out coal for the steamers Hawk and Bremer. The entrance to the workings is by a cut made into the hill side. A shaft has I believe been sunk, but with what success as regard the finding of coal I did not hear; but lower down the Moggil Creek, I was informed a Mr. Lamsden had sunk a shaft to the depth of about 100 feet, and was very sanguine of dropping upon an extensive coal formation very speedily.

Quitting the farms and crossing the creek we came to a cluster gunyahs occupied by the families of those men who are, and have been some time, employed in the timber trade in this neighborhood. I was pleased to find, that in several instances, these generally unprovided bush operators, had not knocked down all their hard won earnings at the grog shops in Brisbane; but wisely laid a portion of them out in the purchase of land, which I was further pleased to see was fenced in with good substantial three railed fences; and above all a comfortable looking house built upon each of these freeholds. May their example be followed by many of their fellow workmen, whenever their timber trade takes a turn for the better! Upon asking one of their numbers, who is among them known as Little Dick, how it was he had not, after so many years toiling, got a bit of land in his right, he made answer, “sure sir, if I hav’nt bought any land, I have helped to build a good many houses.” Very significant this, and certainly strengthens me in my previous opinion, that it will be the very opposite of a blessing should this neighborhood reckon amongst its conveniences a Public House, or liquor store. A bush track made by the passing drays proceeding to and from the Pine Ranges, takes one through a very interesting region of hill and dale, the route being well marked by these dense scrubs fringing the steep acclivities of the mountains.

A ride of some five or six miles brought me to an extensive natural clearing, or opening in the hills, named by the timber-getters the paddock. A large quantity of valuable timber has within the last few years been cut from the scrub in that direction, and I found a number of men still busy falling and cross-cutting pine logs for market; the drays conveying them to Pullen Pullen Creek, and from thence they are rafted to Brisbane, where the steam saw-mills speedily convert them into boards and scantling for the home and foreign markets.

A large quantity of good agricultural land is to be found between the heads of the two creeks, (Pullen Pullen and Moggil), a portion in close proximity to the river, has been surveyed, and some portion purchased; but some excellent farms must some day be formed at the foot of these partially explored pine ranges.

My wanderings in the direction of Moggil being brought to a close at this point of my journey, in consequence of the service I had to perform being completed in that quarter, I must wind up my present “Sketch” with again hoping, that in the perusal of my sketches of East Moreton, some pleasing information may be obtained by those who reside therein, and some profitable hints gathered by those who dwell in the land beyond the sea; and who feel the wants of a young and increasing family bear too heavily upon their resources, and look with great anxiety to the future provision of their households. To them I would conscientiously say, emigrate, and whilst you make the necessary inquiries that may rule your future movements, don’t forget to learn every particular about Moreton Bay - now speedily about to be made a separate colony, and ruled and governed by laws of its own construction.

My next sketch will, with your permission, be dedicated to Bulimba, and other down river localities.

Other articles in this series

Travels in East Moreton, 1859 (#1): Kedron Brook and Nundah
Travels in East Moreton, 1859 (#2): Sandgate and North Pine

No. IV

BULIMBA AND SCENES DOWN THE RIVER BRISBANE

(Moreton Bay Courier, 16 February 1859)

IN my present endeavors to give your readers a sketch of the several very interesting localities situated down the river, I fear I shall fail in conveying to their minds any adequate impression of their varied beauties, or portray them with that graphic distinctness and vivid delineation the subject demands. However, they are sketches literally taken at random without any previous attempt at arrangements or premeditation, and therefore presented to the public for what they are worth.

Bulimba, Toogoolawa, Tingalpa, and other soft-sounding names, convey, no doubt, in the aborigines dialect very significant meanings of these waterside localities; and one is led to regret that the surveyors, in laying out these sections of country, do not more generally confine themselves to the native name of the several localities they map out for sale. In a recent instance “Lytton” has been substituted for “Tingalpa;” a change, in my opinion, far from agreeable or euphonious, although no doubt, done in snobbish compliment to the great novelist, who at present holds the Colonial seals of Office. However let that pass, for after all what’s in a name? Tingalpa cannot (if the minister’s name in full was added,) command purchasers, if this embryo village is brought into market prematurely.

But, before I describe to your readers any particulars about Bulimba and its neighborhood, let us start fair upon our journey, taking, as usual, Brisbane for our starting point. With this view let us at once proceed to the ferry at Kangaroo Point, and endeavor to get the crusty old charon at that place to ferry ourselves and nags over to the South bank of the river. Here, as Jonathan says, we encounter a difficulty. Money nor fair words cannot prevail upon the obstinate old coon to place the punt at our disposal; and hearing the previous pleadings of a Pring, and the impetuosity of a Walker were contemptuously treated I deemed it advisable to Dowse my expectations of making a short cut, and go round by the way of South Brisbane.

This matter accomplished, we, that is you and I, my dear reader, will, in a social, friendly, manner have a pleasing gossip as we jog along the road. There, just pull up for a moment, whilst our senses drink in this scene of beauty lying stretched out before us. This road leads us to Kangaroo Point; and from this opening we obtain a magnificent view of North and South Brisbane. See, what a noble expanse of river greets the eye upon either hand? whilst immediately beneath our vision lies the Botanical Gardens, rapidly developing the scientific arrangements of the superintendent (Mr. Hill), - and conferring a lasting debt of gratitude upon the inhabitants of Brisbane. Beyond the gardens see how beautiful the township appears to swell upwards - to the windmill ridge; - the old mill standing in the back ground, like an old familiar friend, watching the gradual advance of this young metropolis, to the honorable distinction of a city and future seat of Government.

Kangaroo Point, 1860s (John Oxley Library)

As we proceed along the road towards the Point, one cannot refrain from stopping occasionally to take another passing glance at the panorama spread before us. At our left hand, upon the opposite bank of the river, we catch a view of the extensive stores and wharf of Messrs. G. Raff & Co.; as also those of John Richardson & Co., and the Custom House; whilst below us stretches the Point, the river sweeping round to our right hand in the direction of our journey. Before we proceed along the road leading us towards the new bridge crossing Norman’s Creek, let us mark the advantageous position of the Point for the future development of our manufacturing resources. With abundance of pure water to be obtained at a few feet below the surface, and an immense extent of deep water river frontage, we cannot conceive the possibility of these facts being overlooked by the speculative man of capital, on the look out, at no distant day, for a fitting site whereon to erect his factory, for the production of those articles in every day use and consumption, and only now procurable by foreign importation.

Here we pass the neat and beautifully situated residence of W. Thornton, Esq., Tide Surveyor, and Captain Thomas Collins, the latter an old salt of many years colonial experience, and who, like many other old tars, upon becoming tired of a roving sea life, took to the profitable occupation of some square miles of the Crown lands in these districts and became a grazier; or, in more vulgar parlance, a squatter.

Turning to the right, the road to Bulimba runs parallel to the river, presenting as we proceed onward a very pleasing feature in the landscape. At Norman’s Creek a very substantial bridge has recently been thrown across near its mouth, thereby shortening the distance to Bulimba very materially. Some difficulty was encountered in getting this bridge erected, through the misrepresentations of a certain squatting lord, who having purchased land upon the bank of the creek, did not want the vulgar herd to pass through it. Fortunately the Hope he entertained of barring the way was frustrated; and the approaches to the bridge, consequently, does pass through Louis’ land. Emerging from a bit of scrub land bordering the creek the wayfarer begins to ascend a rather steep incline, upon the summit of which a most enchanting view meets the enraptured gaze. The long stretch of water upon either hand glittering in the sun’s rays like burnished silver, and its margin fringed with the dark green hue of the mangrove trees, backed up by the cultivated grounds around; the elegant mansions of R. R. Mackenzie, Esq., and Captain O’Connel, forming part of the New Farm property; - the somber hue of Taylor’s Range contrasting vividly with the lighter colorings of the country spread out beneath it.

Some couple or three miles further we reach Toogoolawa Point; passing in our route a small number of homesteads occupied by the Bulimba farmers. Here again, as at Moggil, we come in contact with some families of Dr. Lang’s importation; a lot of industrious, plain, plodding men, the right sort for a new settlement, and if we speak the truth, have not apparently lost anything by their sojourn in Moreton Bay.

A large portion of the river bank was upon its first occupation by the present possessors marked by a dense scrub, all of which has nearly disappeared under the vigorous arm of the sturdy farmers; and the productiveness of the soil, thus freed from its dark covering, is abundantly evidenced by the crops of maize, oats, potatoes, and other vegetable productions obtained from it.

Most of the small settlers living at Bulimba I found were the freehold possessors of the land and had, in addition, a goodly number of milking cows and cattle; from which they derived no inconsiderable revenue – particularly in the production of the article, butter. The advantages those and other industrious men possess of grazing their cattle upon the unoccupied lands around them, help materially to forward their progressive views. But I cannot help here remarking, that at this place, and many other similar localities I visited in my journeying through the district, I was struck with the suicidal policy practiced by these small stockholders; namely, that of permitting an incestuous intercourse of their cattle, or breeding as it is termed, in and in, whereby the stock is rapidly decreasing not only in size, but in their supplies of milk. Yet, how easy I thought it would be, if a few neighbors were each to unite in the purchase of a well bred bull, for common use, and thus save their stock from deteriorating in value.

A short distance before you reach Toogoolawa Point, the road turns off on the left hand to the waterside, following which, we reach a ferry established by Samuel Buckley, for the convenience of the Bulimba people in their intercourse with the Brisbane side of the river. But, strange to say, I ascertained from the ferryman, that the Government surveyors in laying out the land for sale on the west or Brisbane side of the river, had omitted, with their usual want of forethought, to leave a public approach to the river. The consequence is, that although on the east or Bulimba side, the market carts of the farmers might be punted over to the opposite shore with facility, there is no outlet in that direction to the main road, without passing through private property; the inconvenience of which is already felt by the people using the ferry, from the disinclination of the proprietor to permit of this trespass over his land. I have no doubt the government could remedy this defect, by proclaiming the ferry to be a public one, and making a road-way (the right of which is specially reserved in the Crown grants) through the property lying opposite Bulimba.

The view of the river scenery near the point is very charming. The open cultivated lands on both sides of the river affords a pleasing prospect to the eye. The well kept grounds of Newstead, the seat of Captain Wickham, R.N., Government Resident, the farm homestead of Mr. T. Childs, in close proximity to the former, Kingholme, the residence of James Gibbon, Esq., give the west side of the river a very pretty appearance. At the point of Toogoolawa we find ourselves at the mansion of D. Coutts, Esq., one of our successful graziers, who having made I trust a competency, is farming the lands of his freehold at this place, in a spirited manner; and although I hear he has met with some drawbacks - through unpropitious seasons yet, upon the whole, I think he does not regret having entered into his present occupation. Around Toogoolawa the land is occupied, and very successfully cultivated, by a number of industrious families, who have shewed their just appreciation of the value of their several clearings by the efforts they are making to clear their land of timber, &c. The dwelling places of the Bulimba farmers I must say do not add much to the natural beauties of the place; for with true Australian carelessness, so marked in the country districts of our new settlements, no attempt at adornment is made, but in a few exceptional instances, to take away the heavy repulsive appearance of the hardwood slabs forming the exterior of their houses. When the eye of the traveller does rest upon a snug though homely cottage, buried beneath the green foliage of the honeysuckle or other pretty creepers, how it delights to dwell upon its natural beauty. Fancy, at once, invests the possessors with those social virtues of which the love of flowers very often are the sure tokens. When I see a house standing in its naked deformity, without the slightest attempt at embellishment, although the land around may be highly cultivated and the wealth of the owner evidenced by the sleek cattle and horses, I at once put the owner down as a mere money-grubber, toiling from early morning till dewy eve to accumulate money, or perchance, add acre to acre, until, when in possession of a property far exceeding the most sanguine expectations of his early career, he finds himself incapable of enjoying the gifts God has given him, and repents when too late of his folly.

Conrad Martens’ 1851 sketch of Bulimba House, home of David Coutts in 1859 (John Oxley Library).
Also known as Toogoolawa, this residence is still standing.

Bulimba, in common with those properties situated upon and near the mouth of the River Brisbane, possess many valuable advantages over other less favored localities in this respect. And, further, when the contemplated improvements at the river bar are carried into effect, so as to permit shipping of large tonnage to enter the river and anchor below the Eagle Farm Flats, these farms and freeholds, with those on the Eagle Farm side of the river, will necessarily become of great value.

Passing down the river by a bush track, running at the rear of the farms at the river side, we approach the neighborhood of the Quarries, lying immediately abreast of the two islands, marking the whereabouts of the flats. A short distance before reaching the Quarries, we arrive at the residence of Charles Coxen, Esq., another of our Moreton Bay stockholders who, whilst enjoying his fortune and position at this beautiful part of the river bank, loses no opportunity of enjoying himself, in company very frequently with his wife, with boating excursions amongst the magnificent scenery of our beautiful bay, An example which will, no doubt, ere long be followed by many of his brother squatters; for what higher amount of enjoyment could these enterprising gentlemen secure for themselves and families, after perhaps eight or nine months close attention to their flocks and herds, than locating themselves for the remaining portion of the year at Brisbane, or rather its neighborhood, to enjoy the luxury of sea-bathing, and yachting, and boating excursion in the Bay.

The commanding position of Mr. Coxen’s residence gives a charming prospect up and down the river, and the view in that respect is scarcely to be equalled by any other situation I have seen. At the foot of the ridge upon which the house stands, coal of good quality has been found cropping out near the water’s edge, and a drift has been run into the hill side with the hope of coming upon a payable seam, but without success; although, I believe the worthy proprietor knows where coal is to be obtained in the neighborhood, when the time arrives that coal mining will become profitable.

The Quarry previously mentioned consists of freestone of durable quality, well adapted for building purposes; but stone of equal if not superior quality having been found nigher Brisbane, this place has not been worked for some time. No doubt when our wealthy graziers locate themselves in the vicinity of the harbour mouth, this Quarry will again become of much value to its possessor. Near the Quarries a shaft has been sunk to a considerable depth with the view of discovering “Coal;” but I understand without complete success. Whether deeper sinking will discover the treasure is problematical, although I hear the chances are very favorable. What a magical influence one is led to conclude will be the result of an extended mercantile trade with this province, by enlarged steam communication with other colonies; and then opening out the Torres Straits route to India and China for ocean steamers. The port of Moreton Bay may then, if right means are used, take rank with the finest of the Australian confederacy.

Below the Quarries, and crossing Doughboy Creek, (no very easy task for want of a bridge) we reach Tingalpa, and an open piece of low land known as Clunie’s Flats, and named after a well known military commandant of the penal times. A site has been fixed upon for the erection of a Custom House officers residence and look out place; and near which I believe the village of Lytton has been marked out into allotments for sale.

Tingalpa will at an early day become a valuable locality, and inhabited by those people whose avocations lay in the vicinity of the Bay. It possesses another advantage in being in the neighbourhood of that part of the Bay frequented by the “Dugong” fishermen; and will, when the ferry is established between Bulimba and East Brisbane, and a passable road made to the village at Tingalpa, (I can’t call it Lytton) be brought within the distance of some six or eight miles of the metropolis.

Immediately opposite the Quarries, the eye rests upon the cleared land of Eagle Farm. As we have to get a little information from the people residing in that quarter, let us for a short time cross the river, and have a look round this spot so full of painful associations of days gone; and we trust never to be again witnessed in this Island continent.

Below the cleared lands of the old farm the land continues at the same low level, only being a few feet above the ordinary rise of the tides; consequently, in a wet season, swampy. The Government, contemplating the future value of this particular locality for railway purposes have, I understand, reserved a portion of the land below the “Eagle Farm Flats,” as a railway termini; shipping lying in the secure and landlocked basin forming the entrance of the river, will, no doubt, at some future day receive their cargoes from wharves constructed upon the banks of the stream adjacent to the anchorage. Some good land lying upon the elevated ridges in the, vicinity of the bay will some day be found valuable, and made available for building and other purposes.

Between Breakfast Creek and Eagle Farm the land has been partially cleared of the scrub bordering the river; but there still remains some dense patches that requires the axe of the bushman to clear away; it being at present the rendezvous of the aboriginal tribes that occasionally come up from the coast to have a “corobbaree” or “pullen pullen,” with the half-civilized tribes about Brisbane. At these times they became a dangerous pest to the small farmers dwelling in that neighborhood. Again crossing the river, and passing through the bush in a southerly direction, we come upon the road leading to Cleveland; but as 1 have occupied the columns of your broad sheet I fear already beyond due limits, I must defer the description of that sea side locality for my next sketch; hoping that, if permitted to do so, I shall be able to give some pleasing particulars of this highly favored, though I believe, scarcely appreciated, watering place.

(Australian Illustrated News, 1 October 1890)

If the following newspaper account is anything to go by, then in 1898 the residents of the small town of Lowood, 66km west of Brisbane, were in the grip of 'monster fever'.

Situated by the upper reaches of the Brisbane River, this was a quiet, remote spot with dairy farms and a strong German community. During 1898 there were a number of strange occurrences and alleged sightings of some kind of large creature in the river there. Some claimed it be a crocodile, others a massive dog with tusks, and others said it had wings or fins. The name 'bunyip' was also used, linking it to a large creature from Aboriginal mythology.

There were even reports of the creature leaving the waters at night to walk on land and attack cattle!

The situation came to a head in August 1898, and the Brisbane Courier presented this account of the extraordinary events at Lowood:

"Reported Monster in the Brisbane River. (From our Lowood Correspondent.)

September 1.
Ever since last flood, rumours have been prevalent that there was some animal of the alligator species in the river here. Several fishing parties have reported being disturbed by the appearance of the monster, demon, or whatever it was, which scared the piscators so much that they retired in much haste and trepidation.

Others have said that the animal was seen to come out of the river at night and attack cattle grazing on the bank. One report was to the effect that a calf was, on one occasion, carried bodily into the water and devoured. The monster was described by some who saw it as being something similar to a Newfoundland dog with a ferocious head and large tusks. Others affirmed that it had wings or large fins and yet resembled an alligator in its motions when on dry land.

If it could only be located it was the determination of numerous residents to destroy the brute. When seen, however, no fire-arms were in the hands of the surprised beholders. Last Thursday night, a party of 'opossum-shooters when near the river were surprised to see the monster floating in the river, and only too glad of the opportunity of distinguishing themselves by clearing the river of the "devourer," they fired ten shots which did not prevent the "bunyip" from speeding away up the river to the longwaterhole opposite Lindermann's cultivation.

The monster having thus been located the night of Friday last was fixed for a party to effect its destruction. The appointment was made for 5 p.m., and the "vigilance committee" were to assemble at the Lowood School of Arts. About twenty of the residents (armed with guns), together with Constable Fagg and others, accordingly met at the "trysting-place" and determined to get to the scene of action with as little delay as possible. A move was accordingly made to the bottom of Mr. Lindermann's paddock on the river bank, and, after the party had traversed the bank some half hour or so, one of the scouts reported seeing a dark moving object on the other side of the river on a large log. The object had scarcely been noted when it jumped or dived off the log with considerable noise and splashing, and came towards the party bent upon its destruction. As it rapidly and fearlessly approached, some who were rather timid were for firing and scaring the monster off, but the leader of the party counselled them to reserve their fire until a nearer approach of the creature. The right time having arrived the order was given, and a volley from the party was fired at the approaching object. Another volley was next poured in, with shots at intervals of a few minutes until the advance of the monster was stayed and the body seemed to float away up the stream.

The firing brought quite a crowd of the principal residents on the scene, and a boat was soon manned to follow the carcase of the supposed dead bunyip. The party in the boat on nearing the unknown, fired once more, and then secured the floating body. Loud cries of "Have ye got him?""Is he dead?""Get him to land?"&c. were directed to the party in the boat who were hauling aboard the river monster. It was soon found to the disgust of the slayers, that the bunyip wore make up. The skin of a wallaby had been stuffed over an empty wooden case and an ingenious arrangement of cords fixed so that the "demon" could be pulled through the water. This was rather a "sell" for many persons who thought that "behemoth" was genuine, and the affair has caused a lot of fun.

September 4.
The excitement and amusement created by the bunyip hoax on Friday have not yet subsided and the sayings of those who were determined to capture the monster cause no end of merriment. There were about ten men of K company present with forty rounds of ball cartridges and about twenty of the young men round here (seven with shot guns), while others (on hearing the first volley fired at the river) made haste to the scene of action, bent on having a view of the leviathan.

The excitement was intense. The independent firing continued until the halliards or ropes attached to the "creature" were cut and then the boat was manned and the shooters made towards the supposed dying bunyip. On their near approach, however, the remaining rope was pulled by the unseen operator and the crew of the boat paused, some saying, "Look out! don't let us get too close, for we do not know what he may do." A hurried consultation resulted in their deciding to let the monster have another volley to make quite sure.

The deed was done and the boatsmen then got near the object of their pursuit and pulled it on board, when they were surprised to find that lately "terrible monster" was, as one remarked, "only a b——y box !" Those who had before held back, being rather afraid, now, on hearing that the "monster" was dead, drew near to the boats and the surprise of the assembled crowd was very amusing.

The "bunyip" was on view at the Lowood Railway Station yesterday. It is about 5ft. long (tail included) with a head like that of a good sized calf, covered with swanskin, black leather being over its nose. The tail was made of swanskin and grey wallaby skin, and the ears of wallaby skin, with wire appliances to keep the ears stiff. The "body" was simply an old wooden case. At the railway station, on the arrival of the trains, a general move of the passengers was made to view the "bunyip," and it is the talk of the whole district.

Some say that one resident of the Pocket had offered £40 for the capture of the monster that was reported to be seen in the river some months ago, when the calves were being missed. A report was also rife that the Government were willing to give £200 for the monster, for the Museum, and there were several disputes, before the finale as to how these rewards were to be shared by the armed and unarmed hunters of "the River Terror." Nothing in the hoax line that has happened here has caused so much laughter for many a year."

So it was after all an elaborate hoax, and one worthy of any modern-day monster or ghost prankster. This detailed account of the details behind the events appeared in 1940:

'When fuller investigation was made it was found that the leader of the volley party, Mr. C.H.D. Lindemann, was the perpetrator. The bunyip was a box covered with wallaby hide, with swansdown ears and sole leather sewn on for its nose. It was made by Messrs. Lindemann and K. Smythe, Mr. Smythe being a bootmaker. The only other person in the joke, apart from those operating the device was the police sergeant at Lowood. The "bunyip" was fastened to a wire across the river, on an angle, and was worked by a device and pulleys by Mr. F. Smythe behind a gum tree on Vernor's side and by Mr. Jack Lindemann on the Lowood side. The men working the pulleys were high up on the bank and out of harm's way. Mr. Arthur Nunn also knew a good deal of the arrangements. The "bunyip" was brought to Lowood and lay at the railway station. Its badly riddled body was viewed by hundreds; many photographs were taken and all southern papers gave it widespread publicity. Mr. Lindemann said that many cuttings from southern papers made interesting reading; but they were all destroyed in a fire at Lowood some years ago. Lowood's "bunyip" was the most talked of thing for some time. If Lowood had not been on the map before, it certainly was then. Mr. C.H.D. Lindemann still enjoys telling the story. He said after that he got the blame for everything that happened whether be knew anything about it or not.' (Queensland Times, 1 January 1940)

Carl Hermann Detlef Lindemann, 1873-1952,
shopkeeper, inventor, first-class monster
hoaxer. (State Library Qld)

It is perhaps fortunate that the hoax was exposed so soon. As we have seen with other fantasy creatures such as Bigfoot and Nessie, a hoax that is left unexposed for too long becomes accepted as unshakable fact by paranormalists. Despite its acknowledged origins as a joke, the tale has been retold ever since and the 'Lowood Bunyip' has become an established part of the local culture. A replica bunyip played a prominent part in the Lowood State School's centenary celebrations in 1981, and they have recently adopted 'Horis the Bunyip' as their school mascot. A history of the tale on their website unfortunately fails to mention it was a hoax. You can even visit the Lowood Bunyip Twilight Markets, who have their own bunyip logo in the form of Bruce the Bunyip.

Carl HD Lindemann would no doubt be amazed at the longevity of his elaborate prank. It is a local fame, however, that is well deserved.

Read more about SHARKS & OTHER BEASTIES here

This ghost-detecting teddy bear takes ghost hunting industry to new depths.

Know a small child that you really, really hate? Want to psychologically scar them for life? Well now you can, with BooBuddy the ghost-detecting teddy bear.

BooBuddy looks like a normal bear, but he can detect motion, sounds, and changes in electro-magnetic fields and temperature. And when he does, lights in his paws and tummy start flashing and he starts TALKING TO THE GHOST.

As the BooBuddy website tells us, "Kids will love it, but this is NOT a toy". So there's absolutely no chance a child will ever end up with one of these things in their bedroom, right? There's no way any typical grandparent out there will see this and say, 'Oh look, it's that Charlie Bear thing that little Billy likes, and it has nice flashing lights and sings Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Let's buy it for him.'

Or you might buy it for little Billy because he rode his tricycle through your roses.

Because only a complete idiot
would mistake THIS for a toy.

Imagine the scene...

It's 2a.m. Billy is sleeping peacefully when he is suddenly awoken by BooBuddy, whose stomach is flashing bright green and his paws are red, stigmata-style. BooBuddy starts speaking one of these totally-not-terrifying phrases:

‘Did you make it cold in here?’
‘What was that, could you please say it again’
‘ha ha ha BooBuddy is ticklish’
‘Do you want to be my friend?’
‘Can you make a noise for me?’
‘Would you like to sing with me? Twinkle, Twinkle little star...’
‘Is this your house?’
‘Can you make it colder for me?’
‘What colour is the light in my tummy?’
‘What? Did you just say something? Say it again.’

If you want to attract more ghosts to Billy's bedroom, BooBuddy also has just the phrase to help:

‘Do you have more friends we can play with?’

When little Billy finally stops screaming several hours later, he should have Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome and a terrifying lifelong phobia of stuffed animals that causes him to shit his pants in toy shops, even as an adult. Job done.

This scientifical wonder will set you back a mere $100-150.

Even in an age when the phrase 'jumping the shark' has long jumped its own shark, it is safe to say that the paranormal industry is jumping the mechashark with gadgets like this. 'Jumping the shark' of course refers to an episode in the 5th season of 'Happy Days', in which the Fonz ski-jumps over a shark and people started thinking, 'this show is getting stupid', and it was all downhill after that. In fact, the only way the paranormal industry could jump the shark any more is by producing a 'Fonz Shark Jump' Ghost Detector. Meta.

The Fonz detects ghosts and tells them to 'sit on it'.*

Anyway, here's the promo video...

Next up... BombBuddy. "Kids will love it, but this is NOT a toy. BombBuddy has 2kg of Semtex in his head."

* For people under the age of 40, this is a historical quote.

In the Queensland winter of 1941, as the Second World War raged overseas, the 290 residents of the small country town of Thargomindah (1,100 km west of Brisbane) were distracted by reports of a strange creature lurking in nearby Lake Dynevor. News spread far and wide and for a few months newspapers around the country followed the story of this new and mysterious ‘bunyip’.

The saltwater and freshwater lakes on the old Dyvenor station cover a wide area, some being about a mile wide and between 10-20 miles in length. Unusually heavy rain in early 1941 had greatly expanded their capacity and they provided sanctuary for many birds, including black swans and thousands of gulls (it is now part of the Lake Bindegolly National Park and home to over 200 species of birds). It was after these big rains that tales began to emerge of an elusive animal creature being seen in the waters.

Locals soon formed a range of opinions on what this animal might be. Ideas included seals, turtles, wild pigs, musk ducks, and the obligatory ‘bunyip’, which was a water-dwelling creature of Aboriginal mythology. Some said the creature had a body between three to four feet long, while others claimed it to be the ‘size of a bulldog’.

Lake Bindegolly National Park

The shire clerk told the Courier-Mail that about 20 people had glimpsed it. Two men, one a postal inspector and the other a station manager, had chased it in a boat at dawn before it disappeared into some rushes. One of them had attempted to photograph it, apparently unsuccessfully. He claimed it showed up in the negative but was indistinguishable in the print. They saw the creature from about 90 metres away in weak dawn light and described it like this:

‘It was nothing like anything I’ve seen… The head was black and at least a foot long, and the animal was grunting and splashing a lot. From the size of the head I would say it was about 6 feet long. I was told that many years ago a seal was seen in the Dynevor chain of lakes.

One of the men, JG Utz, also said that 'its head, which raised about 12 to 18 inches above the water, reminded me of a seal'. The news was picked up in Adelaide, where a newspaper reported that about a dozen people swore they had seen ‘a strange animal frolicking in the Dynevor Lake’, with most descriptions matching that of a seal. An implausible suggestion for how a seal would be in a saltwater lake over a thousand kilometres from the coast was given, in that ‘a seagull, one of thousands which flock to the lake, played stork and carried a baby seal from the coast!’

After months of scepticism about earlier sightings, the new reports prompted search parties from Thargomindah to head to the lake, eager to solve the mystery. Mr G. Gooch, owner of Thargomindah station, proposed to place a net across the neck of water where he had seen the creature in the hope of catching it. He also claimed that ‘the bunyip resembles a seal, but it was impossible to say what it was’. He told Queensland Country Life that the Thargomindah bunyip was ‘no mere figment of imagination’ and that he intended to capture it and ‘confound the sceptics’.

The shores of the lake became a drawcard for dozens of travellers on the Cunnamulla-Thargomindah road, and they watched out for the creature near Broken Dam, part of the lake system. Many early-morning bunyip-spotters claimed to have seen it, although it always seemed to vanish before they get close enough for an accurate description.

On 17 August, the Sunday Mail reported that ‘The Thargomindah ‘bunyip’ - now a well-recognised local identity - startled residents this week by appearing with a mate’. There was now speculation that there may be in fact a whole family of the creatures.

‘Last week two of the animals showed themselves at the same time to a party of sightseers. ‘They were as alike as two peas, and we weren’t seeing double,’ said one of the party. ‘They were black, about 2ft. 6in. long, with heads like dogs, and very prominent ears. They swirled away as soon as they spotted us. Probably one was male and one female, but we couldn’t tell from where we were, about 50 yards away. They looked just the same.’

One week later a search expedition armed with guns and cameras was delayed while a local Warrego by-election was contested. Another recent sighting had the creature as having ‘a head like a mastiff and a tail like a duck’.

James Annand, Mayor of Toowoomba, then claimed to have shot at a ‘bunyip’ at Felton, near Toowoomba, some 40 years earlier.

‘As an alternative, he describes it as a moss duck. ‘The moss duck is a queer creature,’ the Mayor said. ‘It has a very large head and short neck. When it appears above water the head is doubled into the breast, giving the appearance of a large, shaggy animal’s head, surmounted by two pointed ears. Those who know the bird have never seen it fly. It dives and reappears anything from 20 to 50 yards away. It is very rare, and possibly the bunyips reported in Broken Dam, near Thargomindah, are moss ducks.’’

There is no such thing as a ‘moss duck’ and I presume what was referred to here was a Musk Duck. The male of this species grows to about 70cm long and has a distinctive large, leathery lobe underneath the bill.

Musk Duck

Despite this, Mr Utz was adamant that what he had seen was not a ‘moss duck’. He saw it twice and still guessed that it was a seal. He told one reporter:

‘What impressed me most about the animal was that it showed much shrewdness and curiosity. On each occasion I saw it, the animal waited until I had crossed the water before it broke the surface to have a look round to see what was going on.’

All the publicity surrounding the alleged bunyip led to concerns about hunters converging on the lakes, so in September the state government appointed G Gooch and JD McLaren as ‘honorary ranger for the Dyvenor Lake bird and animal sanctuary’ or - as was reported in some newspapers – ‘Keepers of the Thargomindah bunyip’. From now on, the bunyip could only be shot with a camera, and Gooch led search parties intent on photographing the beast.

Carnavon’s Northern Times then reported another interesting description of the creature.

‘Mr. R. R. Smith, of Thyangra, who claims to have seen the ‘bunyip,’ said it was about three feet long, two feet six inches around the body, representing a football in shape, but tapering to the head and tail… The head was like that of a pug dog, but more pointed, and appeared to have strings or fibres hanging down from the upper lip. Its colour was mousy brown, with a definite polish, and it seemed to be rather inquisitive.’

Sightings seem to have stopped around September 1941 and interest in the saga of the Thargomindah Bunyip soon waned. It was never seen again, and the search parties gave up their pursuit of it.

In retrospect it is safe to assume that what was seen was either dingoes or foxes out to raid the nests of water birds, or other species of birds attracted by the expanded post-rain lakes. Whatever it was, it would be a natural explanation. Unlike Lowood and their hoax bunyip, the locals have not used the ‘Thargomindah Bunyip’ to promote the area, although a Sydney newspaper article of 1941 predicted that could well happen:

‘Should the Thargomindah bunyip prove to be genuine and not merely of the fabulous kind, the little town-ship (which is already notable for having its very own electric street lights) will certainly become very famous Indeed. Tourists will doubtless flock there in gratifying numbers and a monument may even be erected to the bunyip's honour in the main street.’ (Sydney Morning Herald, 30 August 1941)

It wasn't to be.

The hard, early years of the Moreton Bay Penal Settlement were dotted with tales of murder, disease and suicide. This remote northern outpost had been established in 1824 as a place of secondary punishment for those convicts who had reoffended since landing on Australian shores. The men were put to work at gunpoint in construction and agriculture. The labour was back-breaking, the food inadequate, and escape into the surrounding Aboriginal country was perilous and most likely fatal. Their lot was made worse by being forced to work with hand-held tools. Picks, shovels, saws, hoes and axes... sharp, heavy and - as it turned out on a number of occasions - ideal murder weapons.

The Commissariat Store, Brisbane, sketched by U. White (Brisbane Sketchbook)

The Commissariat Store
(U. White, Brisbane Sketchbook)

Early one September morning in 1828 a convict gang was working on the foundations for the new Commissariat Store near the riverside wharf. Among them were John Brunger (also named as Brogan), who was in a particularly foul mood. He had been a brickmaker in Kent before committing a theft that saw him transported for life to New South Wales in back in 1820. Brunger was not a great example of the effectiveness of 'deterrence' in sentencing as he was subsequently sent to Moreton Bay two times, once in 1825 and again in 1827 after stealing clothing, a bottle of brandy, and then absconding from his master in Parramatta, a crime for which he received three years at the penal settlement.

Working alongside him that morning was William Perfoot (aka Parfitt), a former Exeter farmhand who had once been reprieved from the gallows after stealing pork, mutton and a coat, and who had been sent directly to Moreton Bay in 1826 as a 'notoriously bad character'after another larceny conviction. Despite this, his new keepers found him to be 'quiet, well-behaved and not given to quarrelling'. That said, he was nearly killed in 1827 when a fellow convict smashed him in the head with a hoe.

Brunger must have been struggling with the trench-digging that morning because he demanded that Perfoot (who had a 'crippled thumb') give him his lighter pick. Perfoot refused. Several more demands for the pick were rebuffed before Brunger tried to snatch it from Perfoot, and the ensuing scuffle had to be broken up by the overseer. The men returned to their work, but a few hours later Brunger suddenly ran up to Perfoot and drove a pick straight into his head. He then casually tossed the pick away, picked up a shovel, and started working again as if nothing had happened, saying, 'That’s the way to serve the buggar'. Another convict grabbed his arms and cried out 'Murder, murder, hold him, hold him!'

Brunger was immediately arrested as the insensible Perfoot was wheeled off to the hospital in a barrow. When Brunger was asked why he did it, he replied, 'If I haven’t killed him, I’ll kill him the first time I have an opportunity. I struck him twice with the pick on the head and said, ‘That’s for jacketing of me.’' (Jacketing was a slang term explained in 1801 as ‘removing a man by underhand and vile means from any birth or situation he enjoys, commonly with a view to supplant him’.)

Perfoot died in the convict hospital after what must have been an unbelievably painful six days, and so Brunger was shipped down to Sydney to face trial for murder - a capital charge. He was tried several months later, in the the same session as three other Moreton Bay convicts, and he heartily joined them in disrupting the event. He was found guilty and was originally scheduled to be hanged on 16 April, but as he left his cell for the gallows that morning he was temporarily respited because, due to administrational errors, his death warrant had not arrived. This disappointed the crowds that had gathered on Hangman’s Hill to watch him die:

'The multitude assembled on the rocks, at the rear of the gaol, dispersed with an air of disappointed curiousity when they perceived the executioner ascend the scaffold alone, and remove the rope which had been pendent the whole of the morning.' (Sydney Gazette, 18 April 1829)

Brunger was hanged two days later in a yard at the George Street Gaol, alongside Thomas Matthews and Thomas Allen, two of the other Moreton men with whom he had been tried. He spoke from the scaffold and quite incredulously declared his own innocence:

'I die innocently before you all, and now about to suffer. I declare my innocence. Had I been allowed to have my witnesses up from Moreton Bay, I should have been cleared. I now solemnly declare my innocence, but I am willing to suffer.' (Australian, 21 April 1829)

After a 'few convulsive quiverings and death terminated his mortal career', the body of Brunger was left for the 'accustomed time' (one hour) and removed to the surgeons for anatomical dissection. There would be no burial. This was all part of the capital punishment procedure at that time, specifically designed to deter people from committing murder.

The Commissariat Store was completed without further input from Brunger or Perfoot, and it still stands today as one of the very few physical reminders left in Brisbane of those convict days.

Commissariat Store, William Street, Brisbane.

A total of 12 Moreton Bay convicts were hanged, ten of them in Sydney and the other two at the convict barracks at the Moreton Bay settlement. Their stories can be read in the book Dirty Dozen: Hanging & the Moreton Bay Convicts.

NB - An exhibition titled 'Murder at the Commissariat Store' was recently installed at the Commissariat Store itself! Don't miss it.

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No. V
CLEVELAND

(From the Moreton Bay Courier, 26 February 1859)

'WELL, that designation does certainly sound with a more aristocratic twang than the old familiar one of Pumpkin Point. Yet, what a host of recollections occurs to memory when the mind, as if by magic, is brought back at full swing, some 16 or 17 years, when, at a period of our early history, I made one of a small party to proceed by land from Brisbane to Pumpkin Point. What a mighty change has taken place in the aspect of Moreton Bay affairs since that day when, full of wondering curiosity, we made our way by the surveyor’s marked tree line, on foot, to the Bay. The lordly squatter of the present day was then the unpretending Jackaroo, full of pluck and indomitable energy; but sans the snobbish exclusiveness of the present race of drawing-room squattocracy. In fact, the old stock, the pioneer squatters of the Moreton Bay country, were gentlemen; they made no boast of their aristocratic acquaintances in the old country, and drank their tin pot of tea, with a bit of beef and damper, in social familiarity with those hardy bushmen who helped them to open out and secure those runs and stations, or rather principalities, which the Plutocracy of Sydney have, unfortunately for these districts, managed to engulph within their ever craving and capacious maws.

But let us leave the past, and enjoy some portion of the good, within our reach at the present. The embryo town of Cleveland is beautifully situated as regards scenery, upon the southern portion of the Bay, between the embouchures of the rivers Brisbane and Logan. From the former township the distance by land is some l8 or 20 miles; from Ipswich about 30 miles; the country between Cleveland and Brisbane, being of the ordinary description of open forest land, with occasional tracks of poor sandy soil A portion of it about Doughboy Creek, has been purchased; and a few improvements, in the shape of fencing and a house or two, meets the eye of the traveller in that neighborhood. None of the land appears to have been brought under cultivation; the principal occupation of the residents hereabouts being connected with stock and dairy produce. As you approach the vicinity of the Bay, the land assumes a more park-like appearance, the previous broken country giving place to fine open ridges, luxuriantly clothed with vegetation, and other evidences of the productive nature of the soil. I felt convinced in my own mind, as I passed over this interesting portion of the Bay district, that should cotton growing ever find encouragement by our future government placing a bounty upon that valuable textile, the growth of these Northern districts, a large and valuable section of country will be occupied by planters, who will make Cleveland the mart and emporium for their cotton wool.

ln my second sketch, descriptive of the sea-view obtained at Sandgate, I made mention of the varied beautiful views presented to the eye of the gazer from “Cabbage-tree head;” but I must confess, that as the eye glances across the Bay at “Cleveland,” the palm must be conceded to the latter headland for its rich scenes of grandeur and loveliness. I felt sadly disappointed upon reaching “Cassim’s Family Hotel and Boarding House” to find, from the worthy host, that he had not had a single visitor to stop for any length of time at his hostelry for some two months past.

Sketch of Cleveland as viewed from the Brighton (Grand View) Hotel, 1892.

(Queenslander, 31 December 1892)

Sauntering in the direction of the Point, by a very excellent road, one cannot help continually stopping by the way to take another look of the magnificent scenery spread out on either hand. On the southern side of the point, the observer beholds some of those beautiful islands that lie scattered about the south passage in the direction of Point Danger bight, and a longing desire seems to enter one’s soul, to be enabled to follow the curlew’s flight, in their visits to this charming, peaceful, and fairy-like scenery.

In front of the point, lies Peel and Stradbroke Islands; the former of small extent, but of great adaptability for future occupation; the latter of many miles extent, in fact forming with Moreton and Bribie Islands, that apparent coast line lying between Point Danger and their sea fronts, protecting the harbour or Bay within them from the fierce assaults of the waves of the not very Pacific Ocean.

Upon reaching the “Point,” I found all dull and cheerless. The capacious brick built stores, with the adjoining dwelling houses unoccupied, if I except the wife of one solitary lime-burner, who made themselves “at home” in a comfortable four roomed cottage near the jetty. As I wandered about this deserted village I could not disburthen my mind from the ever recurring thought, “What causes this apathy in the occupation of Cleveland?” The situation is excellent, the soil productive, the immense back country of the Logan and its tributaries close at hand, with its occupiers gradually but surely advancing in the true Australian wealth of sheep and cattle; yet, with all these advantages, “Cleveland,” the property of private individuals, is left almost uninhabited.

As I mused over the fallen expectations of certain speculators, I tried to assign myself a reason for this change in the prospects of “Cleveland;” and the conclusion I arrived at was that the movement made some seven years since by certain influential squatters, to build up Cleveland and open it out as a shipping port, was not undertaken prematurely, but upon too grand and exclusive a scale. They forgot ‘tis the common herd that fills up the channels of the busy stream of human life and industry. They forgot how but a few years previous, they had by a very simple process, concentrated a population at their pet town of Ipswich; and for the benefit of the uninitiated I will explain how that was done. In 1842, the Jackaroo squatters, then but a short time in the occupation of their runs, found their way with their wool teams to the bay, or rather Brisbane. As the shipping port, Limestone of that day, then in the occupation of the Government as a penal establishment, was speedily found by them to possess the advantage of the head of the navigation in that direction, and their wool could be sent down, and their stores be brought up by means of a punt, more expeditiously than by the bush road or track, a blacksmith and wheelwright (poor Tom Moore), alas, now no more, was induced to build a smithy and shanty in the vicinity of the Government Overseer’s residence. Sparks from the anvil, glittered in the distance, like lulling stars, far into the hours of the night; so pressing were the daily demands made upon poor Tom’s physical powers. The requirements of the carpenter were soon found wanting, to erect the dwellings of the shoemaker, the saddler, the shopkeeper, and then as a matter of course, the large house, wherein the occupier is licensed to accommodate and kill any number of her Majesty’s liege subjects he can induce to enter his portals. After these visitations, behold Limestone became Ipswich; and, in a few years, boasts of its North Australian Club House, and other squatting associations.

LWK Wirth, Saltwater lagoon 1911, Queensland Art Gallery.

A similar result might have reasonably been anticipated, as respected the progress of Cleveland, had the same judicious policy been pursued by its first originators, and at this day, instead of silent forest glades, busy thoroughfares would have marked its whereabouts, and the deserted stores and jetty echoed to the hum of human industry, and perchance to the whirring sound of the fast revolving wheels of the steam saw-mill.

In this latter respect let me for a moment glance at the position of Cleveland for the speculative erection of a saw-mill. The cedar scrubs of the Logan, the Tweed, the Arrowsmith, and their numerous tributaries, lay not exactly in close proximity, but within a reasonable and safe distance of the point. Hardwood, and other timber fit for every description of building purposes, is nigh at hand. The sawyer could, with great facility, raft his timber to Cleveland, without having to encounter the perils of crossing the Bay to get it to Brisbane, there to be cut up for market, and thus materially reducing the first cost of the article. Should the foregoing suggestion convey a wrinkle to some cute old coon in search of a grand idea, I would advise him seriously to give the subject a thought; and when he had fortunately hit the nail on the head, so as to drive it into his prolific brain, thereby securing future pecuniary advantages. All I ask in return is, to make me a present of as much sawn stuff as will make me a comfortable coffin. A grave present, I must confess, but then I don’t like to be too greedy in these matters.

In the neighborhood of the Point, Louis Hope, Esq., one of the fortunate class of Moreton Bay squattocracy, has secured for himself, by purchase, a beautiful block of rich pasture and agricultural land, situated upon the shore at the head of Raby Bay, and bounded by Wogan Creek, to which property the appropriate name of woojanness has, I understand, been given.

In my previous visits to this locality I thought I had formed a pretty correct opinion of the growing capabilities of the land in the direction of Cleveland; but I must confess after a look round the recently formed cultivation paddock of Mr. Hope, it went far beyond my previous conceptions. The growth of every foreign shrub and tree therein planted was indeed most luxuriant; and the careful attention of a very few years will, no doubt, add a thousand charms to the many present beauties of woojanness.

A walk round the paddocks amidst grass reaching above the knee, made me fancy myself in some old English park. The stately trees sparely scattered about - a few quiet milkers contentedly chewing their cud beneath the shade of their wide spreading boughs, brought the almost lost remembrance of Home back to recollection.

The proprietor of woojanness is preparing a beautiful site, overlooking the waters of our magnificent bay, whereupon to erect his Country seat; and from Mr. Hope’s known taste in these matters, we cannot doubt but the building will not only be an ornament to the grounds, but a bountiful feature in our Bay scenery. Messrs. T. B. Stephens and T. L. M. Prior have also large landed properties purchased in this neighborhood. The former gentleman has, for some time past, upon a portion of his purchases formed a fell mongering establishment.

Although every unprejudiced person must commend the foresight of these and other gentlemen, who have secured to themselves these compact freeholds, which at no distant day must become desirable holdings, yet, I confess, I for one do wish that this pretty bit of country had fallen into the hands of a few practical “farmers” with their families; knowing how necessary it is this community should, in the course of a little time, be enabled to grow sufficient cereals for home consumption. However there is plenty more of the right sort to tempt the hardy husbandmen to settle down here in contented happiness, and gather round his roof tree the substantial comforts of Home.

I must not omit to mention that amongst other improvements going on in the vicinity of Cleveland, the salt works in the course of construction at Wooganness, by Mr. Hope, that gentleman having already two capacious reservoirs excavated and puddled. Brine tank, and evaporating pans are the works already in the progress of completion, covering an acre of land. As an article of colonial production we hope to see the salt from these works extensively used, should the article manufactured be of an average quality.

The superintendent of the works and improvements upon this property (a Mr. Fryar) although, I believe, not practically acquainted with these matters, evidently understands how things should be done; and doubts not that all will be brought to a successful completion.

Ormiston House, home of Louis Hope, Cleveland, circa 1871.

(John Oxley Library)

Since the total destruction by fire of the fine brig Courier in January, 1854, whilst loading with wool, &;c, for London, off the point, Cleveland, as a township, has been retrogressing, until it has become a town almost destitute of inhabitants, and after absorbing a large amount of cash, brings no present returns into the pockets of its proprietors and speculators; yet, I believe a little energy, combined with a little speculative pluck, on the part of the extensive proprietary, would start this very pretty sea side locality ahead, and in the right direction. Could a little of the Yankeecharacter be diffused amongst our Moreton Bay community, more generally, I feel positive, that Cleveland would not escape the progressive impulse of some wide-awake customer, who would see at a glance what might be made out of the raw material lying ready to hand, to be turned into the all-mighty dollar. Perhaps the coming advent of Separation may bring amongst its many other supposed advantages, the introduction of, and to be amalgamated with this easy going people, some of that restless, ever-devising go-ahead spirit of brother Jonathan. Then we may hope to see the wind blowing over, and the water flowing through these lands, made available for many purposes, now totally unattainable through the scarcity or rather high rate of out-door labor.

Well, having taken your readers to and round about Cleveland, and gossiped a bit relative to the past, present, and future prospects of that town and silent streets, let us, in making our back tracks to Brisbane, take another route; and instead of again trespassing upon the hospitality of Mr. Alfred Slaughter on the Doughboy Creek, take the marked tree line, in the direction of Cooper’s Plains. Emerging from our bush track we come out upon the Logan road, and running that down a short distance come to a pretty commodious cottage lately erected by Mr. Pratten, of the Moreton Bay Surveying Staff, but now in the occupation of his father, Mr. Job Pratten, one of those genuine samples of English farming men, hardworking, pains-taking, never stand still sort of men, that appears to exercise an almost magic influence wherever they set their hands to work. A farm of seventy acres that Pratten has lately quitted on the other side of the plain, amply testifies what one pair of hands, with a strong fixedness of purpose, may accomplish in these beautiful sunny lands. At this new farm so lately occupied, and consisting, I believe, of some 100 acres of thinly timbered forest land, the eye already runs over long lines of strong substantial three-railed fences, whilst kitchen, stables, and various other out-buildings erected by the farmer himself, assisted by an occasional helping hand; gives the observant traveller a pretty fair idea what the future yeomanry of Australia should consist of to rightly develop and bring forth to the world the productions of this fertile soil and climate. And I would have it remembered, and borne in the mind of our present farmers, that some two years ago Mr. Pratten afforded unmistakeable evidence of the possibility of growing wheat below the Main Range; for I myself, and many others saw, at that time, a field of 20 acres under a wheat crop, ripe, and ready for the sickle in the month of November; the seed having been only put in the earth the previous June and July thus giving, in a period of about four months, a return of from 25 to 30 bushels to the acre. The season being dry at the spring, but worse towards the summer, not much dissimilar to the past year. I may further mention the natural grasses which thickly clothe the sward upon the plains is very nutritious for feeding stock. The cows running on these pastures give more than the usual quantity of oleaginous fluid than the generality of the bush milking stock. This fact, to an intelligent mind, should convey this conviction: that cattle running upon the commonage right of this locality, being assisted by artificial feeding in the shape of sweet potatoes, or sorghum, would yield a rich reward to that person, who should be first in that neighborhood to establish a dairy farm. For it does seem strange, nay passing strange, that many of our small agriculturalists, who cry out for want of a market whereat to dispose of their surplus corn and potatoes, should not have long since found out the advantage of more frequently feeding their cattle with the super-abundant food at their disposal; and by so doing save the young stock from dwindling into wretched objects, totally unfit as they increase in years, either for the butcher, yoke, or milking yard. And I may further remark that at none of the places visited by me in my rambles through East Moreton, have I observed more favorable advantages for the creation of dairy farms than Cooper’s Plains and Cleveland. It is a pretty well understood fact, that butter, cheese, pork, bacon, and other dairy produce will find a ready market, when perhaps, potatoes, maize, and garden produce, cannot find a purchaser.

Several very excellent properties are being cultivated upon the Oxley Creek side of the Plains. That of the Messrs. Bakers, formerly Prattens, standing prominent for its economical and thrifty mode of culture. The whole farm of 70 acres is wholly cleared, stumped, fenced in and under crop.

Adjoining this farm a section of land (640 acres) has been purchased, and the whole fenced in at a very large outlay, by Mr. Thomas Grenier, formerly an innkeeper at Brisbane. Marked improvements are rapidly being carried into effect by Mr. G., and no doubt we shall shortly find this proprietor, (who has a considerable quantity of stock) entering into the dairy business, much to his own advantage and profit, and benefit to this community.

Cooper’s Plains was, in the olden times, a stock station belonging to the penal colony of Moreton Bay; and the only drawback to its profitable occupation by small settlers, is the want of permanent water on the Plains. But there is every reason to believe that good and permanent water could be obtained by sinking wells, or constructing reservoirs for the retention of those showers which at times fall so copiously in that neighborhood. In concluding my sketch of Cleveland and Cooper’s Plains, I perhaps may not be out of place in remarking that, whenever in this age of railway travelling, an iron road be laid down from the interior, connecting the upper portion of these districts with the port, (whether that port be at Brisbane, or further down the river) this latter locality must become greatly enhanced in value to those who at the time may be the fortunate possessors of a freehold upon Cooper’s Plains.

My rambles in the furtherance of the object I was directed to carry out, having taken me up the river amongst the Boggo and Yerongpilly farmers, nursery gardeners and others, I will endeavor in my next Sketch to convey to the minds of your readers some of those scenes of rural felicity, and homely independence I witnessed in those quarters, perhaps extending my gossiping and desultory remarks to Woogaroo, and that part of the district.'

94 people were executed at Moreton Bay and Queensland during 1830-1913. These were the crimes they committed:

‘The average bush youngster has a horror of darkness, and talks in awe-struck whispers of hairy men, ghosts, and bunyips. This fear is inculcated from babyhood. The mother can’t always be watching in a playground that is boundless, and she knows the horrors that wait the bushed youngster, so she tells them there is a bunyip in the lagoon, and gigantic eels in the creek; and beyond that hill there, and in yonder scrub, there is a ‘bogey-man’. Those fairy tales keep the children within bounds - until they are old enough to know better.’ (Edward Sorenson, Life in the Australian Back-Blocks, 1911)

In his 2004 book Bunyips: Australia’s Folklores of Fear, Robert Holden places the existence of ‘bunyip’ stories within a socially functional framework, much like Sorenson had back in 1911. These were stories that were told to control the physical movement of children, to keep them away from places where they might drown, such as waterholes and rivers.

As the mythographer and cultural historian Marina Warner observed, mythical, malevolent beings like this embody deep-seated fears and can be found in cultures around the world. They give anxieties a tangible face and erect psychological warning signs around

dangerous places. Folklorist Reet Hiiemäe has written along the same lines:

‘Throughout centuries human fear has induced the emergence and formation of folkloric phenomena. It is characteristic of human nature to fight against fear, trying to reduce or prevent it, and this aim reverberates in the folk narratives.’ (Reet Hiiemäe, ‘Handling Collective Fear in Folklore’, Folklore, vol. 26, April 2004, pp.65-80.)

The Aboriginal Monster

There is a wide range of ‘monsters’ in Australian Aboriginal cultures, each one relevant to their location. Flinders University lecturer Christine Nicholls has described desert regions being home to ‘roaming Ogres, Bogeymen and Bogey women, Cannibal Babies, Giant Baby-Guzzlers, Sorcerers, and spinifex and feather-slippered Spirit Beings able to dispatch victims with a single fatal garrotte.’The underlying message with such stories is listen to your elders, don’t wander off into the desert. A ‘soul-destroying, devouring, malignant power’ called Mamu is part of the culture of Aboriginal people in the eastern part of Australia's Western Desert, and anthropologist Ute Eickelkamp argued in a 2004 article that adults there ‘commonly use the threat of demonic attacks to control the behaviour of children’.

The deep waterholes and rockholes of Arnhem Land present a different kind of danger, and so are occupied by ‘murderous, humanoid fish-maidens who live in deep, biding their time to rise up, grab and drown unsuspecting human children or adults who stray close to the water’s edge.’ Again there is a message in tales of these ‘Yawk Yawks’ - stay away from dangerous places.

‘At one level, Yawk Yawks could be described as Antipodean mermaids – except for the fact that they are not benign. These fish-tailed maidens, young women Spirit Beings, with long flowing locks of hair comprised of green algae, live, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say ‘lurk’, in the deep waterholes, rockholes and freshwater streams of Western Arnhem Land in particular. Children and young people particularly fear them, because they are believed to be capable of dragging people underwater and drowning them.’ (Christine Nicholls, 2014)

'Woven pandanus yawkyawk sculptures by Kunwinjku artists Marina Murdilnga, left, and Lulu Laradjbi. These mythical beings have the tails of fish and hair resembling algal blooms. Photos: Dragi Markovic.' (National Museum of Australia)

You keep quiet now, little fella,
You want big-big Bunyip get you?
You look out, no good this place.
You see that waterhole over there?
He Gooboora, Silent Pool.
Suppose-it you go close up one time
Big fella woor, he wait there,
Big fella Bunyip sit down there,
In Silent Pool many bones down there.
He come up when it is dark,
He belong the big dark, that one.
Don’t go away from camp fire, you.
Better you curl up in the gunya,
Go to sleep now, little fella,
Tonight he hungry, hear him roar,
He frighten us, the terrible woor,
He the secret thing, he Fear,
He something we don’t know.
Go to sleep now, little fella,
Curl up with the yella dingo.
('The Bunyip', Oodgeroo Noonuccal, The Dawn is at Hand, 1992)

European Monsters

Aboriginal stories of the bunyip were new to European arrivals in Australia. They had left many of their own traditional figures of folklore back home, and so the new colonies had no fairies, banshees, goblins, pixies, leprechauns or werewolves. The Aboriginal cultural landscape contained its own kind of folkloric beings, many of which were misunderstood by the Europeans, but the bunyip soon became part of the imagination of White Australia.

Aboriginal parents understood the dangers of the landscape around them well enough, but the Europeans had a greater fear of what was (for them) an alien environment. The historical records give no sense that 19^th-century European adults took bunyip stories seriously (although they used the name as a generic term for mysterious and unidentified fauna of rivers and waterholes), but they did utilise the bunyip as a cautionary tale to try and stop children wandering off into the bush.

‘Everyone who has lived in Australia has heard of the bunyip. It is the one respectable flesh-curdling horror of which Australia can boast. The old world has her tales of ghoul and vampire, of Lorelei, spook and pixie, but Australia has ... her Bunyip ... the bushman will warm to his subject as readily as an Irishman to his banshee.’ (Rosa Campbell Praed, The Bunyip, 1891)

It is little surprise that Europeans picked up on the tales of waterhole monsters, as they had their own traditions of such creatures in their home countries. The Yawk Yawks described above are curiously similar to ‘Jenny Greenteeth’, a ‘waterhole spirit’ being of my home county of Lancashire, England. Described as having green teeth (obviously) and sometimes green hair, these supernatural creatures were said to lurk in ponds and lakes and would use their long, sinewy arms to grab children who ventured too close to the water and then drag them in and drown them. Variations of the name include Jinny, Ginny and Jeannie.

‘Children of 19^th-century Lancashire, children who reside in the country to be cautioned against venturing too near the water's brink, lest ‘Green Teeth’ or ‘Bloody Bones’ should pull them in. ‘Old Nick’ is said to lurk under the shady willows which overhang the deep water; and the bubbles of gas which may be observed escaping from the bottoms of quiet pools are attributed to the movements of the water-sprites which lurk beneath.’ (Lancashire Folk-lore, 1867, p.86)

'Jenny Green Teeth'. (Sia-chan)

Jenny herself is derived from earlier Scandinavian stories of the Nök (Norway) orNeck (Sweden and Finland). The Nök was said to require an annual human sacrifice, and anyone missing in the vicinity of the pond or river where this being lived was thought to have been seized and dragged under the water. The males preferred young women, while the females were said to be attractive to young fishermen. The Nix of Germany had much the same attributes. These creatures had large green teeth, and the male wore a green hat that could be mistaken by his victims for a tuft of vegetation. He was said to kill without mercy, and a fountain of blood spouting from the water indicated a killing.

Their names have been linked to ‘nymphs’, and also ‘Old Nick’, a colloquial term for Satan.

Nøkken, Theodor Kittelsen (Norway), 1904.

It seems somewhat perplexing that Aboriginal adults were often described in European writings as having a genuine fear of bunyips and similar creatures, especially given the vastly superior environmental understanding they possessed. There were, however, cultural parallels in the beliefs of many people in 19^th-century Britain. Rural people of Lancashire clung very closely to centuries-old superstitions and folklore, and for them the local environment was filled with ‘boggarts’ and spirits that were held responsible for any number of minor or major mishaps. Something as simple as a cow having trouble producing milk could be attributed to supernatural forces. As Edwin Waugh wrote of people living in the countryside around my hometown of Heywood in 1855:

‘Whilst the sun was still up in the sky, they thought little about those numerous native boggarts, and "fairees," and "fleeorin'," which, according to local traditions and superstition, roam the woods, and waters, and lonely places; sometimes with the malevolent intent of luring into their toils any careless intruder upon their secluded domain. Some lurking in the streams and pools, like ‘Green-Teeth,’ and ‘Jenny Long Arms,’ waiting, with skinny claws and secret dart, for an opportunity to clutch the unwary wanderer upon the bank into the water.’ (Edwin Waugh, Sketches of Lancashire Life, 1855, p.204)

By the 19th century, the middle classes of England held these old beliefs to be somewhat 'quaint', in much the same way that many British people viewed similar Aboriginal stories. Despite this, these cautionary tales of lurking danger had a universal quality and found a place in the non-Indigenous mindset. The bunyip might not have been taken entirely seriously by the new arrivals, but it has evolved into an iconic part of modern Australian culture.

The idea of the ‘bunyip’ as a mysterious and possibly mythical water creature was well established in non-Indigenous Australian lore by the time the Moreton Bay Penal Settlement closed in 1842. For several decades there had been sporadic accounts of strange unidentified freshwater animals across the country, which were first named in print as ‘bunyips’ in the Geelong Advertiser in 1845. Not long afterwards, the new arrivals moving away from Brisbane into unfamiliar Aboriginal lands provided the first local non-Indigenous reports of ‘bunyip’ sightings.

The first recorded sighting of a bunyip in Queensland took place in 1850, on theBromeltonproperty of Thomas Murray-Prior, by the Logan River near Beaudesert. This was the first run to be taken up anywhere on the Logan River. The Aboriginal name for this place was Bungropin, reportedly meaning ‘the place of parrots’, after the great flocks of parrots that used to frequent the area.

One of the dominant features of this property was a large and deep lagoon, which according to Aboriginal legend was dug by a platypus escaping from a dingo. The lagoon is about 1.5km in circumference and up 30 metres deep. Aborigines believed that this lagoon was connected by a tunnel to a smaller lagoon called Ilbogan.

Bromelton House, 1872 (John Oxley Library)

There was a report in the Moreton Bay Courier in 1850 about a sighting of a strange creature on theBromelton property. A woman staying at the house (possibly a sister of Murray-Prior's wife Matilda Harpur) claimed to have seen a ‘living animal of extraordinary shape and dimensions’ while she was walking near a large lagoon there. She provided this vivid description:

‘The head appeared to be elongated and flattened, like the bill of a platypus. The body, from the place where it joined the head, to about five feet backward, seemed like that of a gigantic eel, being of about the ordinary thickness of a man's body. Beyond this it was of much larger apparent size, having the appearance of being coiled into innumerable folds. Beyond those coils was what seemed to be the tail of the animal, which had somewhat the shape of the tail of a fish, but is described as having the semi-transparent appearance of a bladder. The head, which was small and narrow in proportion to the size of the body, was furnished with what seemed to be two horns, which were quite white. Under the circumstances it was, of course, difficult to judge accurately of the whole length of the animal, but, by comparison with other objects, it is supposed that the parts visible above the water must have been thirty feet in extent.’ (Moreton Bay Courier, 9 February 1850)

The lagoon at Bromelton.

She quickly left the scene before returning with two other women, but all that was visible of the creature (for a short time before it disappeared underwater) was a tail.

The Moreton Bay Courier article continued:

‘… it appears that this lagoon has long enjoyed the reputation of being the home of a monster answering the above imperfect description, and which is stated to have been seen more than once by men on the station. It is certain that the aboriginal natives will not bathe in the lagoon, and that they have evinced much fear of something that they believe to be an inhabitant of its waters… There is… ‘ample space and verge enough’ for more than one of these huge denizens of the still waters to live in retirement. Whatever may be the natural character and attributes of this extraordinary animal, we have some hopes of their being shortly made known, for we are informed that a regular crusade is being organized against it, and every preparation made to secure it, if possible, dead or alive. We shall not fail to lay before our readers any further particulars that may be gathered upon this interesting subject.’

This last paragraph demonstrates one of the key aspects of colonial attitudes to the bunyip. While the creature was attributed with supernatural qualities within Aboriginal cultures, many Europeans viewed it as yet-to-be-identified fauna. To the new arrivals, this was still a new landscape filled with exotic fauna and untold zoological possibilities. Several decades were to pass before white Australia relegated the bunyip to the status of mere folklore.

Rosa-Campbell Praed, ca.1878.
(State Libraryof Queensland)

In fact, one of the authors responsible for popularising the bunyip within folklore was the novelist Rosa Campbell Praed. Thomas Murray-Prior was her father, Bromelton had been her childhood home, and it was her aunt who had reportedly witnessed the bunyip back in 1850. No doubt influenced by these connections, Rosa wrote a short story titled ‘The Bunyip’ in 1891 (it can be read here).

It would seem that despite the extraordinary description given of the creature in 1850, it was never seen again - certainly not by any westerner, anyway. It is difficult to know what to make of this report. Most bunyip sightings of the following century seemed to be the result of people misidentifying seals, eels, crocodiles and even ducks, and while the most likely suspect in the 1850account would be a giant eel, the overall description is still quite fantastic. Could the event have been influenced by the subtropical summer heat? Whatever it was, the Bromelton Bunyip entered into local legend and almost 80 years later an article about a nearby racecourse carried this reminder:

‘Many years ago this lagoon provided excellent sport for the enthusiastic fisher map, mullet and perch in plenty being readily obtainable. Although its submerged snags were well known, it was,nevertheless, an extremely popular bathing place. This fact recalls an incident when a huge serpent-like water monster was alleged to have been seen, by a party of bathers, whose statement was, at a later period, corroborated by a party of aboriginals who were in the habit of camping at the lagoon, and who claimed to have seen this monster sporting about in the water. The blacks described it as a "big fella bunyip," or "debil debil," and thereafter it was familiarly known as the Ilbogan bunyip. Firm in their belief that the lagoon was haunted, the aboriginals were loathe to approach its precincts for a considerable period there-after; in fact, the alleged presence of the monster had the effect of dampening the ardour of all who were in the habit of enjoying a customary week-end dip.’ (Brisbane Courier, 11 May 1927)

Another view of the lagoon at Bromelton.

‘The bunyip, though its fame has spread over all Australia, and though nearly every large reedy swamp boasts of one, has never been captured; and it is regarded by most people very much in the same light as the unicorn is viewed - as a myth.’ (Warwick Argus, 14 January 1893)

By the time the country beyond the Moreton Bay region was opened to non-Indigenous ‘settlement’ in 1842, the ‘bunyip’ of Aboriginal lore was firmly established in the consciousness of non-Indigenous Australia. These mysterious water creatures had many names across Aboriginal Australia, including Mochel-mochel (Condamine River, Queensland), Moolgewanke (Lake Alexandria, S Australia), Kuddimudra (Diamantina River, S Australia), Kadimakara (Lake Eyre, S Australia), Banib (Lake Albacuytya, Victoria), Tunatpan (Port Phillip Bay, Victoria), Kajanpratic, Tumbata, Toor-roo-dun (Victoria), and Kianpratty (New South Wales). The white arrivals generally referred to them all simply as 'bunyip'.

Early Non-Indigenous Reports of Bunyips

A bunyip as depicted by Aboriginal man in 1848.

European interest in the bunyip had been kindled - but then largely doused - by a series of early-19^th-century fossil discoveries. An early references to the creature was in a pamphlet published in 1812 by James Ives, who spelled it 'Bahnuip' and referred to a 'black, seal-like creature that has a terrifying voice'. Large bones found at Lake Bathurst in New South Wales in 1818 were described as being much like a hippopotamus or a dugong, but the discoverer never returned to the find site. It has been suggested that the bones were similar to those of a Diprotodon.A significant discovery was made in 1830 of very large fossilised bones in the Wellington Caves, New South Wales. These were later identified as megafauna Nototherium and Diprotodon.

One of the first recorded mentions of a ‘bunyip’ came in an 1845 Geelong Advertiser article titled ‘Wonderful Discovery of a new Animal’. This was a story about fossils found near Geelong. A local Aboriginal man was shown one of the bones and reportedly claimed it belonged to ‘the bunyip’, which he then drew. He also related a story of an Aboriginal woman killed by a bunyip, and a man named Mumbowran ‘who showed several deep wounds on his breast made by the claws of the animal’. This description was provided by the reporter:

‘The Bunyip, then, is represented as uniting the characteristics of a bird and of an alligator. It has a head resembling an emu, with a long bill, at the extremity of which is a transverse projection on each side, with serrated edges like the bone of the stingray. Its body and legs partake of the nature of the alligator. The hind legs are remarkably thick and strong, and the fore legs are much longer, but still of great strength. The extremities are furnished with long claws, but the blacks say its usual method of killing its prey is by hugging it to death. When in the water it swims like a frog, and when on shore it walks on its hind legs with its head erect, in which position it measures twelve or thirteen feet in height.’ (Geelong Advertiser, 2 July 1845)

There was an outburst of ‘bunyip-mania’ in 1846-47 after a squatter found a strange skull by the Murrumbidgee River, New South Wales. He showed it to local Aboriginal people who reportedly told him it was a ‘bunyip’. A number of experts studied the skull and by 1847 it had been identified as a deformed foetal skull of a foal or calf. Despite this, the skull was displayed to large numbers of enthusiastic visitors for two days in the Australian Museum in Sydney, prompting many of them to claim their own ‘bunyip sightings’.

The skull found at Murrumbidgee, NSW, in 1846.
(Sydney Morning Herald, 9 February 1847)

Most Europeans did not seem to take the bunyip stories seriously, but this was - to them - a new continent and the possibilities for discovering exotic new fauna were very real. In that sense, the term ‘bunyip’ seems to have been used in much the same way as ‘Unidentified Flying Object’ was in the 20^thcentury. The term UFO technically refers to something that has not yet been identified but probably has a rational explanation, but it also carries cultural connotations of extra-terrestrial origins. Likewise, the European use of ‘bunyip’ merely signified an unidentified aquatic animal, while also conjuring up popular notions of a fantastical and almost supernatural creature.

Nevertheless, newspaper accounts of bunyip sightings were imbued with a strong sense of scepticism that often bordered on outright mockery. This was clearly demonstrated in 1853 after wealthy members of the New South Wales government attempted to create an Australian aristocracy with themselves. This idea was famously derided by politician and democracy advocate Daniel Deniehy as a ‘bunyip aristocracy’.The message was clear; much like the bunyip, the proposed aristocracy was a colonial fake.

A Colonial Queensland Bunyip Chronology

Waterhole at Bromelton, near Beaudesert.

The first recorded European account of an alleged bunyip in what would become Queensland came in 1850, when a woman walking near a waterhole on the Bromelton property near the Logan River claimed to have witnessed a huge horned creature with eel-like features but also a platypus-like bill. She estimated that the visible portion above the water was about 10 metres in length. She left and returned with two witnesses but they only saw the tail for a short while before it disappeared below water. She did, however, provide the most detailed and fantastical description of any ‘bunyip’ sighting in Queensland history. A fuller account of this incident can be read here.

Many other reports of bunyips appeared in Queensland newspapers over the following century, and most were unconvincing to say the least. What is noticeable about these accounts is the geographically sporadic nature of the data. Not one single location seemed to sustain a consistent record of bunyip sightings. The usual pattern was that somebody would claim to have seen ‘something’ in a particular river or waterhole, and then that alleged bunyip would never be heard of again. While this might tally with the Aboriginal concept of a supernatural being, the scattered nature of the sightings combined with the complete lack of a physical record nullify the notion of the bunyip as an undiscovered animal.

In 1868 a letter signed ‘Alex Warder, Boom Boombah’, appeared in the Brisbane Courier, telling of the bunyip tales that station workers shared with each other. He claimed that men acquainted with the Logan, Upper Mary, Fitzroy, Condamine, Laidley and other rivers all had stories to tell, and that:

‘There being so little variation regarding the bunyip in the accounts of these men, is it not reasonable to suppose that there is truth after all in what not a few only scoff and jeer at? The blacks to a man believe in the bunyip, and look horrified when it is mentioned.’ (Brisbane Courier, 12 December 1868)

In 1873 Alderman Eastaughffe of Dalby claimed that while he was out shooting ducks near a creek there, he saw what he described as a ‘huge monster, with a head like a seal and a tail consisting of two fins, a large and a smaller one.’No further details, such as an estimated size, were recorded.

It seems to have been a commonly accepted theme among non-Indigenous writers that Aboriginal people were terrified of bunyips. An 1876 newspaper series called ‘A Strange Exploring Trip’ mentioned thisscene near the Barcoo in central west Queensland:

‘You would have been astonished if you had heard all the noises on a big waterhole like that early in the night. Such groans, harks, cackles, whistles, gobbles, and noises as never seemed to come from beast or bird. The fact is that a waterhole like that brings them all together, and in the cool of the night they have a grand corroboree. The blacks won't go to the water at night, not of the big holes, as they say the bunyip lives there. I can't say whether he does or not, as I never saw one, but he couldn't make a more terrible noise than what was going on already.’ (The Queenslander, 22 April 1876)

A stockman and two South Sea Islander labourers witnessed a strange creature while fishing in a waterhole on Gigoomgan station near Tiaro in 1877. They turned and ran, but by their descriptions it sounded like a 4-metre crocodile. It was never seen again, but a few weeks later reporter from the Darling Downs Gazetteinvestigated the place and:

‘An extraordinary animal was seen. It had four legs, a head, a long tail, and two humps on its back. These are undoubted facts. Now for the theory which accounts for them. The bloated carcase of a kangaroo was floating in mid-water and on the protruding surface were seated two fresh water tortoises, engaged in the congenial operation of sucking the putrid flesh. Disturbed by the human intruders, the reptilians slipped into the water, and their 'floating island' turned over, displaying its legs, and appeared to the affrighted spectators to perform a somersault and a plunge simultaneously.’ (Maryborough Chronicle, 20 March 1877)

Sketches of Australian Scenes, 1852-1853, JG Sawkins - Gigoomgan (Messers Hays)
State Library of NSW.

A report in the Queensland Figaro in 1888 referred to an alleged sighting of a bunyip, although the description seems to be very much of a land animal. The name of the witness was not provided, nor a specific location apart from it being somewhere in the vicinity of the Mary River. It is doubtful that much credence can be placed on this report.

‘He saw the animal, lying asleep in the hollow end of a log. It was stretched along on its stomach, its chin resting on its paws, similar to a dog; it was, without doubt, as large as a tiger, its limbs, apparently, quite as strong, the forelegs being as thick as a man's arm, and the chest wide and seemingly very powerful. The head was nearly round, nose short - not unlike a cat's - ears short and pointed, and the mouth, which was firmly closed, was clean and beautifully formed, having no loose skin hanging from the jaws. A large brush of hair stood out from either side of the upper lip, and the eyes tightly closed, apparently, quite round. The body was clean built and very neat; the hind quarters were not so plainly visible; in fact, it could not be seen whether the animal possessed a tail - at any rate he had got it curled round by his side, as is customary with dogs, cats, &c. But the most remarkable feature in connection with the creature was its beautiful color, a deep-brown, thickly studded over with jet black spots about the size of a shilling, the hair, which was quite short, having a nice glossy appearance.’ (Queensland Figaro, 7 July 1888)

More reputable information was provided in 1891 when Dr Joseph Lauterer presented a talk about he called the Yerongpan languages of Brisbane and Ipswich to the Royal Society of Queensland. He claimed that:

‘The Yerongpan natives believe in a kind of bugbear, who kills and eats the blackfellows. They do not call it bunyip (which is an imported name) but worridziam.’ (Brisbane Courier, 16 March 1891)

This is the only reference to the word ‘worridziam’ that I have so far found.

Lake Elphinstone, about 100km west of Mackay, was the scene of the kind of elaborate bunyip hoax that was perpetrated decades later at Lowood.A large number of police and civilians set out to investigate the lagoon after hearing new tales of a strange monster from local Aborigines. They claimed that a ‘huge, hairy, horned monster had risen from the lake near their camp, his eyes shone like globes of fire, and lit up the shores of the lake’.

The investigators set up an overnight camp on the banks of Lake Elphinstone:

‘At midnight the monster appeared gliding from the centre of the lake towards the shore. A thrill of horror ran through the crowd. Shot after shot was fired, but still the monster steadily advanced. They could discern his great thick horns and shaggy head, while his eyes glared as the blacks had described. A whole volley was now fired, and replied to by a peal of demoniacal laughter from the monster, who still advanced. Every man skedaddled for his life, save one Jack Fortescue, the biggest dare-devil in the north, who, without a moment's thought, threw himself on the enraged bunyip in a struggle for life or death. Jack had recognised the cackling laugh of his mate, Jim Playford, the most inveterate joker in Nebo, and penetrated the hoax. Jim had mounted the hide and bend of an old scrub.bull, carefully stuffed with straw, on the bows of a small bark canoe. Swimming behind, he pushed the canoe along in front of him, with the mock bunyip for a figurehead. The eyes of the monster were two skilfully placed bullseye lamps, highly burnished with Kangaroo Brand Alumina Polish. The little boys of Nebo now call out to the custodian of the peace, "Who shot the bunyip ?" and Bobby hangs his head and looks tired.’ (The Telegraph, 19 March 1892)

Lake Elphinstone, Queensland.

During that same year, the fishermen on the Condamine River became very wary of a spot in the river about 20km from the town of Warwick. Several lost their lines there to an animal that was reported to ‘resemble, in appearance, a bunyip’. No further description was provided.

‘It does not roam about much, but confines itself to one very deep hole in the river. Some people here believe it to be a fresh water seal. A very strange feature is that where it habitates no fish of any description are to be found. Several people of late have tried to "sneak" on it from behind trees, while basking in the sun, but can never succeed.’ (Warwick Examiner and Times, 6 February 1892)

In a rare example of bunyip reports coming from the same region within a shortish time frame, fisherman on the Condamine claimed to have seen a bunyip near Darkey Flats (now known as Pratten), northwest of Warwick. They described it as being;

‘About as large as a medium-sized dog, skin covered with fur the color and appearance of that of a platypus, legs short, head shaped like a pig's, and the ears pricked and inclining forward.’ (Warwick Argus, 14 January 1893)

The reporter added that ‘…people (unscientific) are apt to class the bunyip with those visionary snakes so often seen by those that love the bottle not wisely but too well…’ It was a comment that well summed up attitudes to the bunyip at the end of the 19th century, but there would be plenty more sightings in Queensland during the decades to come...

(The following is extracted from the Brisbane Courier, 3 July 1883. HM Prison, Brisbane- known colloquially as Boggo Road - was used for the first time on 2 July 1883. It was initially comprised of a single cellblock designed to hold short-term male prisoners.)

'The new gaol is reached from North Brisbane by means of a threepenny 'bus. Somepeople are taken there free of charge, but it is not to ordinary mortals that the State pays such attention. The building lies like a country gentleman's mansion within its own grounds. Alighting from the 'bus we pass through a gate and along what is by courtesy termed the avenue. This title is anticipatory, but, judging from appearances, not without good reason. Here a warder watches over ten hard labour men who are ‘grubbing up’ stumps. They are an able bodied lot of follows, and belong to a class of prisoners who have broken the law and are taking their punishment quietly and with no ambition to make themselves notorious by essaying escape or to prolong the terms to winch they have beensentenced.

Superintendent's Quarters at front of Male Prison, Boggo Road, c.1914. (BRGHS)

The courtyard of the prison is entered upon by passing under a lofty arch, on one side of which are the offices of the establishment, and on the other the quarters of the governor of the place, Mr Bernard. In the centre of the courtyard is a large circular bed of choice flowers which do much to break the monotony of the scene when once within the walls. Under this flower garden is a vast underground tank, from which the water supply of the gaol is drawn.

Courtyard inside main gates of Male Prison, Boggo Road, c.1915. (BRGHS)

On the left is the hospital ward, and the room of the warder in charge of it. This is upstairs, while other offices and a surgery are on the ground floor. From this we pass to the yard where men committed for trial and on remand are allowed to exercise themselves. They are allowed tables and stools, and have a fine spacious bathroom with a shower that, after a warm dusty drive, looks rather inviting. Leaving the yard we entered the principal building within the walls. On the ground floor is a wide corridor with cells on each side, and then a staircase leads to a higherregion where there are other cells. The building is very lofty and well ventilated, and the cells are of very fair dimensions.

Hospital ward, Boggo Road, c.1915. (BRGHS)

After spending a few minutes downstairs in the dark cells, with the outer doors closed and complete darkness established, one cannot fail to come to the conclusion that there are places on earth more bearable than these underground cells in theBrisbaneGaol. The darkness can almost be felt;the stillness is awful, and there grows on one the reeling of utter gloominess and desolation. To a hard-headed man who could stretch down and go to sleep, a few hours in one of these cells would not mean much, but to a sensitive organisation might mean madness or death. This may seem incredible to those who have, never been shut up where not even the faintest colour of light can be discerned; if they are wise they will not try the experiment in a prison cell. Even when the thing is done out of curiosity the sensations, for some time after experiencing the confinement, are by no means pleasant.

Gladly do we pass from the cells and into the kitchen, where an imperturbableChinese prisoner holds sway. Now here, thinks the political economist, is a chance of exposing an official shortcoming - Chinese labour allowed to usurp the poor white man even within the prison walls. Well, perhaps our civilisation can boast a few who would be more eligible for the post than the Chinaman; some of those smart lads who make our street corners lively with oaths and our pavement slippery with exuded saliva for instance. The kitchen is spacious, clean, and the Chinese cook and his European helps looked as though their occupation agreed with them. In another yard we saw another Chinaman, a fat old fellow, whose once raven hair bears the silver sheen of many summers. If his sentence is served through it is quite probable that he will have little hair, silverthough it be, to weave into a pigtail and trot gaily back to the Flowery Land.

Vegetable patch to the side of the Male Prison, Boggo Road, c.1915. (BRGHS)

Outside the walls work is going on in all directions; Mr Bernard has certainly not wasted the labour at his disposal, for the hungry ridge on which thegaol stands has been trenched, good soil deposited on it; fruit trees are blossoming, the chaste pink of the peach begins to burst out from the branches, and vegetables are springing up in rows made with mathematical precision. By-and-by the place will look pleasant outside, and the buildings will not be such an eyesore to the people who live in the neighbour- hood. Inside the gaol one cannot help remarking from the general appearances that thoughprisoners may be made to feel that they are suffering punishment, there is not that cruel severity exercised which hardens even the least criminal of them and breaks down the constitutions of all.'

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No.VI
SOUTH BRISBANE

(Extracted from the Moreton Bay Courier, 5 March 1859)

The Western Suburbs of South Brisbane, in common with other up-river localities, are well worthy a place in your journal amongst our other Sketches of East Moreton; and a lover of the picturesque and beautiful would find a day had been well spent were he to take a stroll amongst the cultivated grounds lying on the south-west bank of the Brisbane River, in the direction of Boggo, and the interesting parish of Yeerongpilly.

In sketching some particulars relating to the south bank of this charming river, I with premise my remarks by observing, that South Brisbane, or rather that portion of it lying opposite to the hospital and ferry approaches was, in the penal period of this colony, cultivated by the convict population of the settlement; and large quantities of maize and sweet potatoes were taken off the land, for the sustenance of the people employed thereon. But in the year 1842, after his Excellency Sir George Gipps had visited this portion of his government, the settlement of Moreton Bay was thrown open to private enterprise; and the convict population gradually withdrawn.

In that year, and for a considerable period afterwards, the attentive observer would have frequently to witness the marked peculiarities pertaining to those revolting exhibitions connected with the convict discipline of those days. Frequently, at the hour of noon, after the Court had closed its sittings, the suppressed shriek and groans of the felon would be heard by the occasional passer-by, issuing from beneath the archway in Queen-street.

South Brisbane c.1867. (John Oxley Library)

At the same time the new chum, landing for the first time upon these beautiful but fearfully polluted shores, would very probably have presented to his gaze other associations that at once would recall to memory the tales of other days, heard of this terrible Pandemonium. The armed sentinels, the convict constable, dressed in brief authority, walking with unwilling step the doubly convicted felon to the presence of the Commandant, there and then to answer for some act of disobedience, or previous nights’ irregularity, committed very likely when in company of some old pal who, arriving overland with some Jackaroo squatter, had come down to the Bay to spend in drunken recklessness the earning of previous months, perhaps years.

Turning from the sad reflections engendered by these reminiscences of the olden time, what hopeful thoughts of the future progress of this infant township must have entered the minds of many wayfarers to this portion of the Australian island continent. Walking from the old wharf to the hill above the Commissariat stores, what a scene of enchantment met the astonished gaze. The public buildings, (then in a good state of preservation) grouped or scattered around; the Commandant’s and Government gardens laid out with tasteful elegance, abundantly filled with trees, shrubs, and botanical specimens, brought from many and varied climes, and kept in a high state of preservation by labor exacted from unwilling hands, all spoke, trumpet tongued, to the contemplative mind, of the productive capabilities of this sunny land. But, alas, those who have lived since that day, “When young Hope filled the mind with youthful joys,” have had to regret the passing away of those bright anticipations; and marvel, after 17 years passed in the strife and battle of life, to see so little of their early hopes realised. However, “such is life,” ever hoping, ever striving, unwilling to be deceived.

But my brains have evidently gone wool gathering in my attempt to commence this sketch. Instead of taking your readers over the water, here I have been standing under the “old flag staff!” Ah, that was a flag staff! None of your barber’s pole sort of thing whereon to display the flag of the greatest nation, as Jonathan says, on earth. Yes! a regular star-gazer; set all ataut-o, with topmast, yard, cross-trees, and gear that a sailor loves so well to expatiate upon; the apology for which, at present stuck up against the office of the Resident, makes me sometimes almost wish that some of the fast young men of 42 were here, just to absquatolate with it and stick it up in front of Newstead. Where am I now? Gossiping under the old flag staff! Well, whilst we wait for the boat to take us over the river, let us for a few moments take a retrospective glance of things that were upon the bank upon the opposite side. We catch sight of a very extraordinary piece of naval architecture, built for all the world like an immense spittoon, which upon due enquiry we shall find is intended for the river traffic: and which subsequently enjoyed the sobriquet of “the kill time punt,” trading between Limestone and Brisbane. In close proximity stood the proprietor’s house of accommodation for travellers, and those thirsty souls, at frequent times assembled around their drays on the south side, while beyond and around was the deserted clearing, the decaying stalks of the last maize crops rattling in the breeze like the musical bones of an ethiopian serenader. Just for a moment let me detain you whilst I describe my first Sunday afternoon’s visit to this memorable spot, accompanied by Messrs. Harris and Underwood (then keeping a general store in a wing of the convicts’ barracks.) We were ferried by “Davie,” the boatman, with some four or five others, in a little cockle shell of a dingy, from the north to the south side. Passing up the road leading from the water side, in the direction of the accommodation house, we were at once in the midst, pel mell, of bullock bows and yokes wielded and hurled in fearful proximity to our persons. Yells of fiendish blasphemy were uttered on every side, whilst a woman, with her front teeth knocked out from the blow of a bullock yoke, stood shrieking for help in the midst of this rum maddened throng. The Chief Constable, poor old White, in vain assayed to stop the murderous affray, assisted by his meagre staff of convict constables; and it was not until the military guard from the barracks reached the spot that the riot could be suppressed. These matters were far from unfrequent occurrences. Only a short time previous, I was informed a man had been found killed on the South side, by whom, I believe, was never ascertained. Such was the advent of my first visit to South Brisbane. The change, outwardly, since that day appears marked; but the Christian man sorrows that even at the present the curse of these colonies reigns like a spirit fiend supreme in our midst, and daily laughs over the dying and the dead, around whom he has thrown his deadly coils.

South Brisbane in the 1860's, with part of Botanic Gardens in foreground (John Oxley Library)

But come away from those memories of the past, and let us saunter like two old fast familiar friends, with that congeniality of soul between us which permits us to admire the beautiful works of God, and ponder over man’s mission during his sojourn in their midst.

Passing from the Ferry steps towards Mrs. Greenwood’s, South Brisbane Hotel, we turn to the right before reaching that well-known hostelry, and wend our way towards the town boundary; passing in the hollow the first weather-boarded house built in Brisbane, the property of the late Mr. David Buntin, a passenger per Edward, schooner, John Chambers, master, in Sept., 1842.

What a train of recollections glide through the memory with a railway pace as we pass that well-remembered spot, close to which I your correspondent pitched his tent in the winter of 42. Poor Davie! Early and late did I see thee, with praiseworthy self-reliance, toiling to erect that home; and then, in after years to die the death thou didst, makes one shudder to think that thou art only one of many thousands who have fallen beneath that fell destroyer, strong drink.

Let me for a minute recall to memory the first Saturday night passed beneath that roof tree, when the labors of the day were o’er, and a few of us, for the first time, assembled to congratulate the proprietor upon the accomplishment of his ambitious desires. Can I forget the hope expressed by each, and all of that little gathering, when we spoke of the future, anticipating as we did, a prosperous one, but, oh, can I forget the closing scene of life’s sad history connected with that little band? No!

I stand alone in the banquet hall deserted;

These light all fled their garlands shed,

All but me departed.

But, dear me, how I have wandered about and from the subject of this sketch. I appear to have started on my journey to Boggo and before I reach the town boundary, have come to an anchor upon some old stump; and whilst I have from that quiet resting place cast a look around the clearing, fallen into a brown study; and instead of describing to your readers what I saw only a few weeks ago, I drop into a gossiping yarn of what I saw or remember, perchance, before many of them were born. Well, well, I know old age is garrulous and very tiresome, and that twaddle of all kinds should be strictly confined to the Upper House. Not having the slightest chance of ever filling the dignified position of Government nominee, it becomes me not to interfere with their prerogative. I will, therefore, try once more to make a fair start in the direction pointed out at the beginning of this article.

View of South Brisbane, c.1869 (John Oxley Library)

The whole of the clearing upon which the township of South Brisbane is situated, is commanded a short distance from the river bank by a gradual ascending ridge, presenting beautiful sites for the future erection of villa residencies; the scenery from several commanding positions in this neighbourhood is very charming. The valley of the Brisbane stretching out on either hand conveys at once to the vision of a spectator the various improvements carried out upon the opposite bank of the river. The substantial and imposing wharf and stores of Messrs. John & George Harris, the Steam Saw Mills of Mr. William Pettigrew, and the cluster of buildings in the vicinity, the Episcopalian Church of St. John, with its adjoining parsonage, the Government Resident’s office, Immigration Barracks, Survey Office, Hospital, Supreme Court House, and Crown Law Offices; and the varied buildings belonging to private individuals scattered over a large space of ground; whilst almost immediately beneath, the eye for a moment rests upon the capacious wharves and stores of the Steam Navigation Company, and Messrs. Robert Towns & Co., at which the busy scene of maritime activity is presented to view.

Pettigrew Saw Mills, William Street, 1861 (John Oxley Library)

Passing along the high ground at the rear of the suburbs we overlook the cottage and grounds of Mr. Taylor Winship, the builder of two of our river steam fleet; and which were launched from the building premises adjoining. A small craft has been for some time on the stock, designed, I believe, for a steam ferry boat; a description of conveyance much needed in our traffic across the river. And as we may anticipate under the Municipalities’ Act the formation of a market upon the reserve at North Brisbane, set aside years ago for that purpose, I trust the time is rapidly approaching when the authorities under the Act will devise means to make the ferry between the two localities easy, safe, and expeditious, to the utmost extent of our most sanguine anticipations. However much we may cavil about the presumed benefits to be derived from this measure this one thing is certain, that the ferries, wharves, markets, water supply, and other important matters, will be placed under the control of the residents themselves; and though they may at first feel rather strange in devising measures for the successful carrying out of these progressive go ahead demands, the fact of the people themselves having a voice in the matters will go far towards setting them thinking; and this will, no doubt, be the means of accomplishing this and many other equally important operations.

I rest for a moment, and let us take a retrospective glance of this ferry question. It is now some sixteen years since the Government commenced leasing the ferry to the highest bidder. I find, by reference to some memorandums in my possession, that during the period they have been so disposed of, the ferry rent accruing from that between North and South Brisbane has conveyed into the Treasury Exchequer, the sum of nearly £3000; the dues averaging something like £190 per annum. The yearly increasing traffic between the North and South sides, imperatively demands some more extensive arrangements than the present very questionable mode of crossing; and so soon as the market place on the North side is opened, as a public mart for the buying and selling of our agricultural productions, the same must be carried out, or the community will have just and reasonable matter of complaint against the Municipality. It will be the people’s own fault, if this, with other matters, are not then speedily attended to.

Ad featuring gardening tools sold by AJ Hockings,
Queen Street (John Oxley Library)

A few minutes’ walk from the town boundary brings us to the Rosaville Nursery grounds of Mr. A. J. Hockings; and though but a very short period has elapsed since that person commenced operations in the horticultural field the results evidenced in the productions of the Nursery are very creditable to him, and the parties employed in carrying out the arrangements. As a matter of course, the fruit and other trees are, comparatively speaking, of but an infant growth, yet the number of young grafts and stocks promise an abundant supply for those parties who, at a future period, may require their gardens and allotments of land to possess something more pleasing to their sight than rows of cabbages, patches of potatoes and other things, which though very useful and necessary in themselves, do not at all times give a favorable impression to visitors of our botanical abilities. To those who really have the desire, and the means at their disposal, to improve their freehold properties, I should certainly suggest to them a visit to this locality.

Beyond Mr. Hockings’ grounds the bank of the river is laid out and cultivated by the proprietors thereof to a very profitable extent. At Hill End, the turning point of the long reach of water above Brisbane, the spectator, in the ridge at the back of this property, obtains a very charming view of the river reaches. Above and below this very pretty spot, part of the Hill End property is cultivated by Mr. Way, another of our Moreton Bay nursery gardeners and able horticulturists. Having no desire to make invidious comparisons between the parties employed in this field of industry, I must refrain from pointing out the many beautiful productions I saw in that place; but again advise your renders, who have a love for the beautiful, and can admire the interesting specimens of forest, lawn, shrubbery, and fruit trees, to stroll out in the direction of Messrs. Hockings and Way’s grounds; and I feel satisfied, they will return home well pleased with their inspection, and with a far better idea of the capabilities of Moreton Bay in producing so many useful and really beautiful specimens of tropical and the more homely trees and flowers of the temperate zone.

Above Hill End we get on to the Boggo road, running parallel to the river, and in the immediate neighborhood of a busy farming population. The dense scrub bordering the river is fast disappearing beneath the sturdy stroke of the axe; and the patches of cleared grounds that meets the eye in this direction promise a speedy transformation in the hitherto monotonous aspect of our upriver scenery.

The parish of Yeerongpilly is being fast taken up, and placed to your account in the future productiveness of this district; and though many a toilsome hour has to be spent by the sturdy occupiers of this and neighboring localities in their praiseworthy determination to make for themselves and families a home, yet the good time is coming when they will in a correct feeling of pride look at their goodly possessions, and tell their children how the field was won from the bush lawyers, scrub-creepers, figtree fixings, gum-tree stickers, and other forest incumbrances that, until their removal was accomplished, marred the husbandman’s efforts to bring his bit of land under crop for their use and benefit.

But, as I have run this gossiping sketch out to the extent of my stock of paper, I must crave your permission to finish my Random Sketches of East Moreton in a future issue of your journal, trusting that the finishing article will be found by many of your distant subscribers and readers worthy of their perusal and attentive consideration, should they feel disposed to visit the new colony of North Australia for the purpose of looking out for a home, in this favored land, as I will therein endeavor to point out. I feel satisfied from my long experience, and the benefits I have witnessed secured by others in their sojourn here, that amongst the many inducements held out to immigrants in the other colonies of Australasia, this northern portion of the great island continent has equal if not far superior claims to their attention, some of which I will point out, I hope satisfactorily, in my next and last sketch of East Moreton.

(Read the introduction to this series here.)

No. VII
BOGGO TO WOLSTON

(From the Moreton Bay Courier, 12 March 1859)

'Having, in my last article, left off my sketch of the south-western suburbs somewhere in the neighborhood of the farmsteads about Yeerongpilly, I will, with your permission, renew my rambles, and detain your readers, for a brief period, upon those auriferous looking quartz ridges overlooking the valley of the Brisbane, in the direction of Boggo, and as we rest ourselves beneath the wide spreading branches of some forest monarch, under whose shade in-all probability the Arab of the wilderness in generations past loitered and held coroboree, ere Cook or Tasman sighted the shores of New Holland. Let us endeavor to derive some information about this particular locality, and the varied scenes we have visited together in our journeying through the district.

Map of original 'Boggo' district. (C Dawson)

The banks of the Brisbane, comprising a portion of the parish of Yeerongpilly, is rather densely filled in with scrub; and in years past large quantities of pine timber was obtained therefrom, but the increasing demand of that useful description of timber, has denuded these, and similar scrubs of most of that article, driving the sawyers and splitters to a greater distance from water-carriage, to obtain the needful supply for building purposes.

Although the present high rate of wages given to laboring men employed in farm husbandry, in a great measure impedes agricultural operations, and the clearing of heavily timbered lands, yet the rich and productive nature of the soils situated upon these and other navigable waters, amply repay those who have had pluck enough in their composition to set to work and clear the land of these impediments. The only regret one feels in looking over the various cleared land in this neighborhood is, that the proprietors of these clearings should be content, or rather compelled, from their limited resources, to adopt, the one unvarying principle of cultivating only maize and potatoes; the demand for which from our limited population is not at all times equal to the expectations of the growers.

I must admit the temptation to cultivate these products is very great, because our small farmers calculate upon getting two crops a year from potatoes and maize, whilst in cultivating cotton for instance, want of experience in the general system of management, deters all or most of our small landholders from making the attempt to produce cotton wool. Yet one would hope that the fact the cotton uncleaned was sold at Mort’s auction mart, in Sydney, at 5d. per lb., this return will be found upon making calculation, far beyond what may be expected from the present price of corn and potatoes.

Let your correspondent here throw out a suggestion for the earnest consideration of those employed in agricultural operations, or desirous of seeing this important branch of home industry encouraged. The suggestion I am about to offer occurs to my mind in consequence of seeing in my peregrination through the district, the sad deterioration of late years in our horticultural productions; for instance, we find, in many places, the pine dwindled away to a fruit so small and irregular in its growth as to be valueless; - the banana also pithey and tasteless. Large quantities of these trash are forwarded to Sydney for sale which, when contrasted with the very fine pine apples and bananas grown nigher the metropolis, creates a prejudice against the consumption of these articles.

Wurtemburg Farm, the property of Gottfried Sailer, Boggo, 1880s.

Watercolour by C.G.S. Hirst (State Library of Qld).

To remedy this growing evil the suggestion I have to offer is, to revive the Moreton Bay Agricultural Society; which, to the lasting shame of many of us, was allowed to fall through want of support. Let everyone interested in the future prosperity of these districts take an active interest in its progress! Let every effort be made to induce the holders of small farms to cultivate the proper description of cotton, arrowroot, sugar plants, pines, bananas, and the thousand and one other semi-tropical productions, which we have sought to grow, but which, except in a very few instances, has never been successfully tried. To encourage our farmers in their desires to improve their growing crops we have a Botanical Garden, conducted by a skilful man, over ready, I believe, to convey every information in his power to those who will ask his assistance. The gentleman entrusted by the Government with the superintendence of these grounds, I am sure will do much to encourage a thoughtful and judicious mode of culture amongst the community in which they have cast their lot. Let me, through the medium of this article, urge upon those interested, to call an early meeting of the friends of progress, to once more have that useful institution an Agricultural Association established amongst us.

Beyond Oxley Creek, a distance of some eight or nine miles from Brisbane, the land on the south bank of the river remains in a state of nature until you reach Wolston, the grounds and residence of S. Simpson, Esq., late Commissioner of Crown Lands for these districts. Wolston is some two miles on the Brisbane side of Woogaroo, bounded on one side by that river, the whole freehold comprising, I should think, something like one thousand acres of open forest land, all securely fenced in and laid out in convenient paddocks, mostly used for horse stock, of which the proprietor has a goodly number. The gardens and grounds are neatly laid out, the former possessing some really good trees, shrubs, &c.

Wolston House is an early stone and brick farmhouse built in 1852. It is now owned
by the National Trust of Queensland. (State Library of Queensland)

The country lying between Wolston and Oxley’s Creek must eventually, particularly the land bordering the river, become available to the small farmer and cultivator. The scrub land is of the richest description, and the patch of open forest lying at intervals, and at the back of the scrubs is also well worthy of a poor man’s purchase. The daily passing and repassing of our river steam fleet, adds another valuable feature to these river side localities; and one cannot doubt but that so soon as our land regulations are placed in the hands of the Moreton Bay Government, the sale of those waste lands will be both rapid and profitable to the colony and the purchaser.

Let me draw your readers’ attention, particularly those dwelling in other lands, to the following facts and particulars. The rivers Brisbane, Pine, Logan, and Cabulture empty themselves into the waters of our magnificent Bay, within an area of say 25 miles. These rivers are navigable for some distance from their mouths, particularly the two former. Upon all these rivers millions of acres of productive land is unsurveyed and unsold, affording ample space for the industrial exertions of thousands of our fellow creatures, coming from whatever part of God’s creation they may.

If we are therefore led to view the future occupation of these lands by a people desirous of improving their present condition, let us hope every endeavour will be used by our legislators to bring them into the market upon terms favorable to the occupiers of them. Every friend to the future progress and prosperity of Moreton Bay, might then anticipate to see those views realized, which were ably set forth in the Hall of the Brisbane School of Arts, in the year 1857, by Mr. William Brookes, in a lecture delivered 'Upon the cultivation of cotton,' and as the lecturer observed, some future historian may, in speaking of Moreton Bay, use terms something like these: 'Around the Bay and stretching away for miles, are clusters of farms supporting a large population, who are principally engaged in the cultivation of cotton. They are not only a well-to-do, but a contented and prosperous community. In the far inland districts there is a vast extent of country which supports millions of sheep, thousands of cattle, and droves of horses. Thus is the country divided between the pastoral and the agricultural interests, and the best understanding exists between them. The time has been when this colony was spoken of as a pastoral country only; but now it is a flourishing territory, giving ample support to both interests.'

As we sit under this gum-tree, and cast our eyes along the valley through which the Brisbane flows, can we doubt the realization of some portion at all events of this graphic picture? Surely not! There are those amongst us who will live to see the thousands of acres of unbroken forest, stretching away in the distance without any sign of habitation, peopled up by the starving thousands at present congregated together in vast masses in the streets, alleys, and by-ways of the cities and towns of the old country. Did time and space permit me, I fain would pursue this subject further; but for the present must leave the question of cotton growing to another opportunity, or I should say to more abler hands than mine.

Oxley Creek, circa 1922. (State Library of Queensland)

A Moreton Bay Agricultural and Horticultural Society, when again formed, would find ample materials within their reach to place the matter before the members; and I doubt not the results of their experience and practical working will soon establish the fact that the cultivation of cotton wool would rank in equal importance with that of our staple export wool.

The country lying between Woogaroo and the Teviot, and the head of Oxley’s Creek, is occupied by small proprietors of stock, principally cattle, all of whom appear to be gathering round them a valuable property in that particular, rude plenty is apparent with them all, the wayfarer being sure of a good feed and a shake down, should his journeyings lead them into their society.

A very excellent road is in the course of formation between Ipswich and the metropolis of Brisbane; the distance between the two townships being by this route, about twenty three miles. The traveller at no distant period proceeding to or from either of those localities, may in all probability be enabled to choose the river or the road, by which to proceed on his journey. The steam-boats conveying by one and the mail-coach by the other. The latter route with an ordinary four-horsed coach could no doubt be passed over in something like a couple of hours, whilst the river route, a distance of 55 miles, occupies by the steamers at present from four to six hours, a difference in time of much importance to men of business. At present I am sorry to say, we are not in Moreton Bay quite fast enough to pay much attention to a few hours waste time, in a journey of 20 odd miles. I calculate, if ever we get Separation, the old slow coaches on the road-way of life at present down here, will soon get knocked out of time, and pushed off the road, by young England fraternising with, young Australia for the purpose of going a-head, and doing their duty as citizens of a great nation.

Having, in my previous sketches, endeavored to portray (though I feel very faintly) some of those places visited in my rambles through East Moreton, I will bring my pleasant task to a close by observing, for the attention and guidance of those in lands far away, that upon the rivers mentioned in the previous portion of this article, and their numerous tributaries falling into their waters, immense tracts of maiden soil lie upon their margins only awaiting the occupation and labors of man to convert them into productive wealth; and that speaking of East Moreton only it must be borne in mind that the western portions of this magnificent province are every way equal, if not in some measure superior, to the districts I passed over; and for many many years there will be ample scope and space available for the settling down of, I may say, millions of the human family; and that the present residents and part occupiers of the settled lands are barely conversant with the productive capabilities of the land they live in. In fact, we have the land, but we want labor, and gold to make the province of North Australia the most valuable of her Majesty’s Australian possessions.

We may not, and perhaps it will ultimately be found better if we do not, find those auriferous treasures so widely dispersed in the mother colony and Victoria; but whether we do or do not discover a gold field, we may with confidence assert, and without fear of contradiction, that Moreton Bay possesses a soil if not literally auriferous, is a golden land to the fortunate possessor of it, as witness the exports for 1858, us per last return published in the columns of the Courier gave a total of £550,000, and which is considered by parties acquainted with those matters, as much under the real amount. However, be that as it may, we have much to be proud of in this respect when we take into consideration the very limited number of inhabitants in the northern districts, and the wide field we have for future improvement.

In conclusion, should I have been so fortunate in these sketches to have given an hours amusement to your numerous readers, or induce one soul to think well of the land of our adoption, your public correspondent will consider himself amply repaid, and well pleased to find his wish to benefit his fellow man has been accomplished.'

Bunyip and Oopidoop
(Sydney Mail, 27 December 1911)

Walter Henry Bone is one of the forgotten illustrators of Australian children’s literature, which is rather a shame. Writing around the turn of the 20^th century, he was able to apply his knowledge as an expert bushman and naturalist to creating an imaginative menagerie of animal characters. His What Became of Them? stories featured an outback world populated by creatures both strange and familiar. They were ruled over by the kindly Bunyip, referred to by the rest of the animals as ‘the King’ or ‘Your Majesty’.

Bone’s animals were neither European nor Aboriginal, except for the bunyip, which in these stories was clearly a land animal, as opposed to the freshwater creature of Aboriginal legend. The bunyip also had magical powers with which he could transform animals, which happens in most stories, and these transformative incidents give the tales something of an Aboriginal quality, while also recalling Kipling's 'Just So Stories'.

Walter Bone shaving, Megalong Valley
c.1900. (Blue Mountains City Library)

Being a big-game hunter, soldier of fortune, naturalist, and children’s author was perhaps an odd mix. As was the style of the time, Bone's writing was a bit wordier and more colloquial than would be used in children’s books now, and although they had a fair measure of violence and death, they also had a quaint charm that seems surprising when considering the background of the author himself.

Born in 1863, Bone attended Sydney Grammar School before setting off to Africa for a taste of adventure. He found it, and by the age of 20 he was an expert swordsman, revolver shot, and was the officer in command of the cavalry of the Sultan of Zanzibar. Sometime around 1890 he returned to Australia and became joint editor of the Blue Mountains Express newspaper in Katoomba. He was a frequent contributor to the Sydney Mail for 35 years. Bone wrote and illustrated popular animal and bush stories for children, including, Hoppity: being the life of an albino kangaroo (1933) and What became of them? Australian stories for children. These books continued to be reprinted until the 1950s.

Bone had a sound knowledge of bush lore and was a member of the Royal Society, the Linnaean Society of New South Wales, and the Zoological Society, and he contributed articles to a number of journals. He inherited his father’s printing business, renaming it ‘W. H. Bone & Co.’, and died in 1934.

Walter Bone and his wife Francescamping in the Megalong Valley, NSW, c.1900. (Blue Mountains City Library)

Being very much a creature of his time, he unfortunately portrayed Aboriginal and African people as clownish caricatures (see here for an example), and more than anything else it is these illustrations and other racist tones that make a revival of his work unlikely.

The Bunyip
In Bone's world, the Bunyip was the King of the animals, and the central character in the What Became of Them? stories. He had some familiar features known from alleged 'bunyip sightings', such as a bird's beak or bill, horns on his head, and large eyes, but he was clearly a land animal as opposed to the aquatic nature of reported bunyips.

(Sydney Mail, 31 January 1912)

The Oopidoop
Not so 'fabulous', perhaps, but the Oopidoop was an important character in the stories, being the 'Great Grandfather of the Frogs' and constant assistant and friend to the Bunyip. His origins are explained in this January 1906 story.

'You can dig another hole and commence business whenever you like'.
(Sydney Mail, 27 December 1911)

'Of course you know as well as I do that the Oopidoop is the grandfather of all the frogs. Well, nobody who ever saw the Bunyip - who, as everyone is aware, is the King of Australian creatures - could understand how it is that he is invariably attended by the Oopidoop. As a matter of fact it was only through being on very friendly terms with most of our wild animals that I learned the reason myself. To make sure that what they told me was correct, I interviewed an old black-snake (with a shotgun), and as he said nothing to the contrary, of course the story must be true.' (Sydney Mail, 17 January 1906)

The Wongawhillilew
The Wongawhillilew was a strange pterodactyl-like bird who was not too clever and wanted to become a man after coming across an Aboriginal man in the bush one day. He appeared in this December 1902 story.

'The mischievous young animals would swing on his legs.'
(Sydney Mail, 31 December 1902)

"The Wongawhillilew was discovered, when quite a little thing, sitting on a stone in the pouring rain, squawking piteously with cold and wet, and when the Bunyip found it and took it home with him he anticipated some difficulty in rearing it, but being blessed with a healthy appetite and strong digestion, it recovered from the exposure, and under the tender care which the King of the Creatures bestowed upon all his subjects, rapidly attained its full growth. It was 6ft. high, had big goggle eyes, leathern wings furnished with strong hooks at the shoulders, and its long legs terminated in hands instead of claws. In colour it was green." (Sydney Mail, 31 December 1902)

The Goanthaspike
This was a large goanna or monitor lizard with a huge spike on the end of its snout, which he liked to use to play 'policeman' among the other animals. From April 1910.

'"Here, don't you call me names," the Monitor hissed venomously.' (Sydney Mail, 6 April 1910)

‘At first the bush creatures fled in frantic haste when they saw the Goanthaspike coming, but by degrees they became accustomed to his appearance, and their natural antipathy to each other reasserted itself. Quarrels and fights arose, and then the Monitor would lumber forward, and gently quell the disturbance with a mild application of his spike.’ (Sydney Mail, 6 April 1910)

The Boomerangatang

This was a kind of flying orang-utan that would spin around wildly in mid-air, boomerang-style, causing other fascinated animals to break their necks as they tried to watch him. Dozens of animals died in this manner in this September 1911 story.

'The King commanded the Boomerangatang to alight.' (Sydney Mail, 20 September 1911)

‘The first intimation of the presence of the Boomerangatang which the Bunyip received was when he was awakened, one very wet afternoon, by a succession of maniacal shrieks and chuckles that seemed to encircle the hollow tree in which he was sleeping.’ (Sydney Mail, 20 September 1911)

The Swalleremole

This massive snake ('swallow 'em whole') with armour plating and legs featured in this November 1911 story. It was eventually transformed into a much smaller creature.

'The Bunyip struck furiously at the creature's head.' (Sydney Mail, 22 November 1911)

‘It was the Swalleremole - the black snake with the crimson motor-scales - that brought the death-juice to Australia; there were no venomous snakes in our country before that. But he was somewhat different in appearance to what he is now, before the Bunyip took the matter in hand - you'll notice that at once if you glance at his portrait.’ (Sydney Mail, 22 November 1911)

The Hlpmtl

This was some sort of a giant ant with a penchant for killing animals unfortunate enough to fall into it's hole. It was featured in this December 1911 story.

'A pair of monstrous callipers closed with terrible force around him'. (Sydney Mail, 27 December 1911)

‘With a tremendous heave the creature emerged from the loose soil in which it had embedded itself, and crouched against the opposite side of the pit. The monarch examined it critically. 'Ha,' he muttered, 'body grey, ten feet long, flat, heart-shaped; six short legs, big head, goggle eyes, huge nippers-ah. Come here. Stop! How dare you crawl backwards. What d'you mean by it?''I can't crawl any other way,' the Hlpmtl whimpered apologetically.’ (Sydney Mail, 27 December 1911)

The Googleoggle
An ancestor of the frogs, the Googleoggle lost his ears but gained an unwanted tail after a fierce dispute with the koala (who, in turn, lost his own tail).

'"Now, get off the earth," said the Bunyip. (Sydney Mail, 25 January 1911)

'As for you,' he continued grimly, turning to the Googleoggle, 'your malice has caused the bear to lose his beloved tail and you your ears. As a punishment you shall wear his tail, and have no ears at all. Now, get off the earth!' And with one mighty kick he sent him flying into the water.' (Sydney Mail, 25 January 1911)

The Tuniuniantipec

When Australia was still joined to south-east Asia, this 'yellow monster' used to migrate down from China to devour children (i.e. young animals). There was nothing subtle about the racism in this February 1904 story. The problem was solved after the Bunyip had the wombats dig a trench that caused Australia to physically separate from Asia.

'"I believe you've eaten him yourself," said the Tuniunianipec.'
(Sydney Mail, 3 February 1904)

'Our King sought the Tuniuniantipec at the full of the moon and prevailed upon him to return to his own country on condition that 10 animals should be given up to him whenever he asked for them, provided the moon was at the full. Years passed, and the Yellow Fiend grew older, and instead of full-grown animals he demanded that they be young and tender. This was done, and, so that the loss should fall upon each in turn, he brings each time a list of those who must give up their young to be devoured. Behold, people of the bush, the moon is at the full, and to-night he comes!' (Sydney Mail, 3 February 1904)

The Triantiwollipede

This bird-headed, tentacled creature had a habit of eating other animals before he was rather horrifically killed himself in this September 1902 story.

'"No, no,", said the Wallaroo, "It's all a mistake." (Sydney Mail, 6 September 1902)

'The triantiwollipede (Scarum kiddibus) is one of those extinct Australian creatures which for some unaccountable reason find no place in the books of natural history, but as there was only one, I am not surprised at it. The only mention I can find of the beast is-
"He's all jet black, and his big fat back
Is round as a geebung seed:
So don't go nigh when you hear the cry -
“Trianti - wolli - pede!”'
- Alexander the Great.'
(Sydney Mail, 6 September 1902)

Drought Bird
Mentioned in a story about Oopidoop, the Drought Bird was held responsible for causing droughts to occur.

'That night, the Drought Bird swooped down out of the sky.'
(Sydney Mail, 17 January 1906)

''You see, my friends,' he went on after apause, 'it is all the fault of the wicked Drought Bird. As you know, the Drought Bird is a huge winged creature that flies out of the sun, and drinks up all the clouds by day and the rivers and creeks by night - that's why nobody ever sees him.'' (Sydney Mail, 17 January 1906)

The Locashell
This giant insect with a fondness for soft wood trees was eventually shrunk down to become a cicada-type creature in this story from January 1912.

'He emitted a yell that made the trees shudder.' (Sydney Mail, 31 January 1912)

'Almost asleep as he was, the Bunyip at first watched the thing with dreamy indifference, but as its bulk rose higher and higher from the earth, by degrees he became uneasily conscious of the two great eyes staring down into his. Unable to move, though now wide awake, he saw the huge claws groping for a firm hold upon the ground; his eyes widened, and his mouth gaped with astonishment, and - it must be confessed - apprehension, until the weird object, bending towards him, thrust forward a long, slender beak and touched him on the chest. Then he emitted a yell (and, mind you, I don't blame him) that made the trees shudder, and went over backwards.' (Sydney Mail, 31 January 1912)

(Queensland Figaro, 20 January 1883)

(These articles are reproduced from the Queensland Figaro, January-February 1883, and describe aspects of life in HM Prison, Brisbane, which at that time was located at Petrie Terrace and had opened in 1860. these articles were written from the perspective of the walls, in an 'if these walls could talk' scenario. This particular article - the first in this Life & Death in the Sunshine State series - focussed on the experiences of prisoners being sentenced. The prison at Petrie Terrace closed in July 1883when it wassuperseded by the new Boggo Road prison.)

'IN THE interval between first entering the gaol and his sentence, a prisoner has probably been before the Police Court two or three times; and his sensibilities are a little blunted, but for all that he feels the day of trial very heavily. In this interval too he has become in a measure acquainted with gaol and gaol doings. He learns much he did not know before, however smart he may have considered himself. He has seen somethings of petty tyranny, but not in its worst form, for there are not enough prisoners, and these that are within the walls are continually changing, and he has gained the advice of the men in ‘billets’ to do his ‘time’ as easy as can be.

The Petrie Terrace prison buildings can be seen in the centre of this c.1862 photo.
(State Library of Queensland)

‘You have got to knuckle under, so do it as best you may gain the good-will of those in command as early as possible.’ Do this and they will wink at a good deal that would get another man 24 hours ‘solitary.’

The sentenced prisoner has one more, initiatory style of degradation to pass through. On getting back to the gaol he is dressed in prison clothes, and shaved. A dull edged razor rasps over his face; a few coarse jokes greet his new appearance, and when he catches a glance of himself in a dilapidated looking glass - dressed in prison clothes, and all moustache and whiskers gone - he realises for the first time he is a CONVICT. Once more is he shaken by a full sense of his position, and once more is he prompted to appeal to an All Powerful Friend for aid to carry him through the long months of his sentence; but the prayer dies on his lips for within the walls there is no prayer, no religion no hope.

He joins the rest of the sentenced men in the ‘wood yard,’ and is rushed at once into new acquaintances. He shudders as he looks at them. There is a man with 15 years; two for a brutally murderous assault; there a blackfellow for some hideous piece of filthiness: there are horsestealers, and forgers, and embezzlers, and men for crimes of violence, and a good array of larrikins. And they crowd round him, and ask him questions which seem an awful impertinence; but in what is he better than they. If he is ‘sulky,’ and won’t open out, he is rapidly informed that he is only a ‘ --- lag, ‘and had better mind what he's about. With locking-up comes a respite from these at least, and when he rises next morning there is a gleam of hope within him as he thinks he knows what he has to do; and that he is not there for ever.

By the end of the day he has changed his opinion. He thinks he will never live through it, and beating his head against the wall, prays for death. In the old days it was very bad, say the walls, but now the chances are that in the course of a day or two he hears he is on the list for the ‘Island.’ There are 8 or 10 besides himself. On the morning of his departure if he has more than 12 months to serve, he is dressed in gaol clothes, if 12 months or less, in his own. He passes with another man ‘between the gates,’ and sees a length of chain lying on the ground, and two armed constables trifling, with several pairs of hand cuffs.

The sharp click of the handcuff ls heard, and he is harnessed to the chain like a bullock in a team, and his mate abreast of him on the other side. In pairs they are thus harnessed up, the constable in charge receives the necessary documents from the chief warder, the word to march is given, and the wretched gang face the streets - with their gaping passers to and fro makes its way to the steamer which is to convey them to the ultimate destination where their sentences are to be carried out.

Arrived there, the first course to be undergone is ‘probation,' which simply means that for so many weeks or months the prisoner passes 23 out of 24 hours in his, cell, at first with the door closed, when he is given various kinds of work to perform, afterwards with the door open. His ration is of the poorest. Having completed his ‘probation’ - which usually reduces him very much, and renders him amenable to discipline - he goes into the yard with the others, and on the sort of man he is depends the hard labor he is set at.

Bad is the best which gaol affords, for even the billetted man is but a prisoner, and cannot drag himself clear of the contaminating influences with which gaol life is surrounded. He has to put up with every indignity, to touch his hat, and ‘Sir’ men, one or two of whom he wouldn't look at ‘outside,’ but who are his masters, and ready to let him know it, and he gets morose; he falls into gaol ways, thinks it a crime not to steal whenever chance puts it in his way, if it is only a potato, and before he has done six months' hard labor thoroughly comes down to what prison life is - the warders watch you, and you watch the warders.

The week's hard labor closes at 12 o'clock on Saturday. After dinner a general personal cleansing takes place; the bath goes all the afternoon; if a man exhibits a dislike to cold water (or perhaps it may be no more than that he does not like stripping in the bath-house before so many men, and so tries to get. out of it) he is ‘bathed’ by some of the other prisoners, who tumble him clothes and all into one of the troughs.

About three o'clock on Saturday afternoon the ‘indulgence’ rations are dealt out. It is only good conduct prisoners who receive indulgence rations, which consists of 2 ounces of tobacco, 3½ ounces of tea, 21 ounces of sugar, and a box of matches. The matches are issued only once a fortnight, the rest is weekly.

Kelah, 1875. (Qld State Archives)

Kissing goes by favor. So do indulgences. The men who receive them are put on the list by the gaoler who also takes them off for any breach of rules or discipline, indulgences are highly appreciated by the prisoners, but the list often gets a good many on it and when this is the case the favor decreases in proportion. Immediately these rations are served out all hands set to work smoking - those that have tobacco usually being ready to ‘part’ a smoke for once in the week to those who have not got any ‘weed.’ At the head of that indulgence list you will probably see two names - Kimboo and Keelah* - both criminal lunatics. Look at the latter first. He is a kanaka, and quite imbecile. This lunatic is a ‘lifer’ for murder, and has been there 10 years. The other lunatic there, also a ‘lifer’ for murder, and who has killed another man since he has been in gaol, and violently assaulted one or two more, has been 22 years within the walls. He is a chinaman; an exceptionally clean and rather pleasant looking specimen too. He usually has a yard to himself, because he is dangerous when annoyed, and it need not be said that the many larrikins, who are so continually in and out, would do their best to annoy him provided their new skins stood no chance of being burnt. But then your larrikin is the greatest cur in creation. The determined attitude of a small boy of 12 would cow a great big hulking youth of 20. These two prisoners are most carefully looked after. It would break what does duty for the chief warder's heart if anything happened to Kimboo.'

* Kelah was a South Sea Islander who was sentenced to death for murder in 1874 but had his sentence commutated. He served time in Petrie Terrace prison, and St Helena Island, and also the Woogaroo Lunatic Asylum (as it was then known). While he was at Petrie Terrace in 1882 he refused to eat and eventually died of ‘atrophy’ in June of that year. His story features in the book Prisoners of Toowong Cemetery: Life and Death in the Old Petrie Terrace Gaol.

Other articles in this series

Early Non-Indigenous Reports of Bunyips

A Colonial Queensland Bunyip Chronology

Latest Images