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Persons who have yet to make their acquaintance with the early history of New South Wales will learn with surprise that the colony had been founded for almost a quarter of a century before the Blue Mountain barrier was crossed. For so long a period it was scarcely possible to proceed more than forty miles from Sydney in any direction. Many a despairing look must those early settlers have cast on the frowning ramparts of the range, which, leaving only a narrow margin between itself and the sea, threatened to convert the cradle of the colony into a Procrustes' bed, to which its dimensions would have to conform in the future, as they had done in the past. This sense of confinement was the harder to bear that it was met with in a land of freedom; and many a time did the caged eagle dash itself with fruitless rage against the bars of its prison. A record of the unsuccessful attempts to get beyond the main range would form a heroic chapter of our history, and one, too, of which we might well feel proud, if there is any truth in the saying that in great undertakings it is glorious even to fail. Within four months after the arrival of the "first fleet" our annals present a picture of Governor Phillip and party struggling laboriously westward tothe gorges of the mountains. In 1793 Lieutenant Dawes, with Captains Trench and Paterson, put forth equally persistent, but just as unsuccessful, efforts to scale the sandstone cliffs and reach the interior. During this year, also, H. Hacking, of theSirius, with two companions, penetrated twenty miles into the mountains, passing over eighteen or nineteen ridges or gullies, and returned to the settlement after an absence of seven days. Three years later George Bass, the famous, though unprofessional, navigator and discoverer of the strait which still bears his name, did all that marvels of perseverance could accomplish in the hope of forcing a passage by way of the valley of the Grose. Taking a party on whose courage he could rely, Bass had his feet armed with iron hooks that he might scale the cliffs, after the manner of a spider, and made his men lower him with ropes into the outlying chasms. But it was all in vain. After fifteen days of heroic endeavour, he returned to Sydney, bringing the cold comfort of impossibility of transit. Bass assured his fellow-colonists that a passage over the Blue Mountains did not exist, even for a person on foot. It is possible that this strong statement was disproved almost immediately after. A tradition, not too well authenticated, speaks of a convict of the name of Wilson actually crossing the mountains in 1799. With another advance we get better footing, and read of a Lieutenant Barrellier making a similar attempt, but only to add another name to the list of failures. Twoyears later an effort of a more promising character was made by a botanist of the name of Cayley, who pushed his way into the heart of the mountains as far as the present Numantia, where he erected a cairn of stones to mark the furthest limit of exploration to the west. He left his rude monument without a name, but Governor Macquarie, in a sportive mood, called it "Cayley's Repulse," and by this brand it is still remembered by old colonists. The late Dr. Lang thus refers to it in his "History":—"The place was pointed out to me by a respectable settler of the Bathurst district on crossing the mountains for the first time in the year 1826. It is certainly a most remarkable locality, nothing being visible in any direction but immense masses of weather-beaten sandstone rocks, towering over each other in all the sublimity of desolation; quite a deep chasm, intersecting a lofty ridge covered with blasted trees, seems to present an insurmountable barrier to all further progress."
At this outpost discovery appears to have stood still for a considerable period. If further attempts were entered on in the succeeding years very little has been said about them. The settlers must have made up their minds for the time being to submit to the inevitable and reconcile themselves to the situation with the best consolation they could find. But a pressing emergency assailed them before long which aroused the slumbering energy and led to another assault on the western ramparts. A continuous drought had succeeded equally disastrous floods inthe Hawkesbury. The live stock of the settlement had by this time increased to 65,121 sheep, 21,343 horned cattle, and 1,891 horses, and all these had to be kept during a season of drought on an area of 80 miles by 40, the greater part of which in the best of times was hopelessly sterile. In this trying situation it became very manifest that one of two alternatives had to be faced—either the Blue Mountain barrier must be forced at all hazards and a way found into the interior, or, should this prove to be absolutely impossible, the surplus stock would have to be removed from the colony, if they were not to perish from starvation. The crisis was a serious one, but it happily called forth an effectual remedy. Three most capable men now came to the front to scale the mountain ramparts from which so many assailants had already been cast down; and now, at last, fortune was pleased to smile on the enterprise. The foremost of this memorable trio was Gregory Blaxland, a native of Kent, and born of an old English family in 1779. The second on the expedition was William Lawson, who was formerly lieutenant in the 102nd regiment, but had latterly retired to "Veteran Hall," his own country seat near Prospect. These two leaders, on whom the whole responsibility devolved, were joined by a third person, then wholly unknown, but who afterwards made for himself a name not to be forgotten in New South Wales. This was the embryo patriot and statesman, William Charles Wentworth. Blaxland was now in his 35th year,Lawson about the same age, but Wentworth was barely out of his 'teens, and professedly joined the expedition in a freak of youthful adventure.
This memorable expedition, consisting of the three parties named, together with four attendants, a few pack horses, and several hunting dogs, left Blaxland's farm, at South Creek, on the 11th of May, 1813. The same afternoon the Nepean was crossed at Emu Ford, and the first encampment made the same evening at the foot of the mountains which had so long marked the western boundary of the settlement. The plan they resolved to follow was to adhere to the dividing ridge or watershed between the Warragumby and Grose Rivers, being careful to head all the tributaries departing to the right or to the left. This determination proved the secret of their ultimate success, and put the explorers in possession of the only key to the situation. Next morning the Emu Plains were left behind and the ascent of the mountains commenced. The high land of Grose Head is noted as being about seven miles to the north-east, and the place where the ascent began must have been considerably to the north of the present Zig-zag, and near the starting point of the original Bathurst-road. Having scaled the steepest part of the ridge, here about 800 feet high, the travellers were careful to head all the watercourses on both sides, in the hope of finding that the highest ground would also be continuous. The first day's progress amounted to a little over three miles, generally in a south-westerndirection, and the night's encampment was made at the head of a deep gully, where a small supply of water was found in the rock. Next morning a start was made about 9 o'clock. After proceeding about a mile they had the good luck to hit upon a large tract of forest land. Here was discovered the track of a European, who had marked the trees. This belt of open country ceased about two miles ahead, at which point further progress was obstructed by impenetrable brushwood. The remainder of the day having been consumed in fruitless efforts to round this obstacle, the night was spent in the former position. Next morning the axes were early at work hewing a track through the scrub, which could neither be avoided nor penetrated. This step-by-step progress had to be endured for five miles, until a more open patch was reached. Nor was this an exceptional case. A great part of the route over the mountains had in like manner to be laid open by the axe, thus making it necessary to travel three times over the same ground. First, the track had to be cut out; next, they had to return for the horses; and then the real advance was made for another stage. On the fifth day the brushwood proved so formidable that their progress did not exceed two miles. The following day was Sunday, and the explorers enjoyed the Sabbath rest as much as any toil-worn slave that ever breathed. On the 17th the horses were loaded with a supply of grass, as the country was becoming still more inhospitable, and an advance of seven mileswas made through a track which the axe had laid open. But the windings of the watershed now appeared interminable, and the real progress, if measured in a straight line, was small indeed. Yet it was only by this tedious course that the mountains could be crossed, if crossed at all. The locality of the next encampment was destitute of water, and what could be obtained in the vicinity had to be carried up a precipitous cliff 600 feet in height. The horses had to shift as they best could for that evening. To aggravate matters, if such a thing were possible, a more serious obstacle now rose in front of the intrepid explorers. The ridge, which was their only hope, contracted to a width of 20 feet, and appeared to terminate in a huge rock rising 30 feet directly in front. But perseverance, which overcomes all things, brought them safely over this barrier too. Wednesday, the 19th, was a red-letter day, for they now reached the summit of the second elevation of the main range. The site also was suitable for a camp, and offered a good supply of grass and water. Next day a five-mile stage was accomplished, and the camp formed on the margin of a lagoon with a small stream of water running through it. Here the horses were left till the men had cut another day's march through the scrub. Soon after the ridge began to widen, but proved to be more rocky than ever. From the 22nd to the 28th the advance was made at much the same rate and without any incidents calling for particular remark. At last the pioneers had the inexpressiblesatisfaction of finding themselves on the western fall of the mountains. But the slopes facing the interior were exceedingly rugged, and a practicable descent was nearly despaired of. After much difficulty a barely feasible one was discovered, by means of which the party got clear of the mountains and found themselves in a lovely valley, afterwards called the Yale of Clwydd, and now well known as the site of the town of Hartley.
Now, at last, the Blue Mountains had been crossed, but the pioneers continued their journey a short distance further, to make sure that every obstacle had been overcome. After leaving the range they advanced two miles to the westward on the same day, and encamped on the bank of a fine stream, probably what was afterwards known as the Rivulet, and now, by an absurd blunder in spelling, the River Lett. The last encampment was made on another brook, since called Farmer's Creek, but not from any connection with the farming interest. Here Sir Thomas Mitchell lost his favourite horse "Farmer," and considered the event of sufficient importance to have its remembrance preserved in the name of the creek. From this outpost of the expedition Blaxland went forth on the last afternoon of May, 1813, and ascended a neighbouring hill, from the top of which he beheld a magnificent expanse of pastoral country, sufficient, in his reckoning, to meet the wants of the colony for thirty years to come. This being the extreme point reached in this enterprise, Governor Macquarie paidthe leader a well-merited compliment in associating the name of Blaxland with this memorable peak.
The object of the journey being now happily attained, it was judged unnecessary to travel further. Twenty days had been spent in forcing a passage through the formidable mountain barrier, and the progress had been so slow that not much more than three miles per day had been averaged. The actual distance travelled along this tortuous ridge was reckoned at fifty miles, and eight more had been added on the other side. The return journey calls for no detailed remarks. The explorers were greatly fatigued, in very poor health, and their clothes had been torn to rags. Their outward track had been too laboriously hewn through the brushwood to be difficult to find on their return. The colonists at Sydney hailed with welcome the tidings of this signal success, and lost no time in turning the wished-for discovery to practical account.
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Delighted with the success which had rewarded the Blue Mountain enterprise, Governor Macquarie took prompt action in following up this conquest over nature's barrier. A new and very capable man was now ready to enter the field. This was Mr. George W. Evans, who at that time filled the office of Deputy-Surveyor. His name occupies an honourable place in our early annals. It were to be wished we had fuller particulars of this first effort of his in the exploration of the colony than are now to hand. The following brief sketch embodies all that is really known on this subject:—He was absent only seven weeks on his first journey, and in 21 days had penetrated 98 miles beyond the most advanced camp of his predecessors. This new explorer crossed the Nepean at Emu Ford on the 20th of November, 1813, and, six days after, arrived at the termination of the journey of the Blue Mountain pioneers. Proceeding westward, he crossed a well-grassed but broken and rugged country, which was subsequently called the Clarence Hilly Range. By the 30th he had reached the dividing ridge which forms the watershed between the eastern and western streams. Soon after this he discovered, in a well-grassed valley, the headwaters of a stream that abounded in fish, and hence received the name of the Fish River. He continued to trace it, winding its course through a fine country, suitable for agricultural and grazing purposes, till the 7th of December, when it was joined by another stream, which he named the Campbell. To the river which was thus formed by these tributaries he gave the name of the Macquarie, after the Governor, but the natives called it the Wambool. Continuing on the lead of the Macquarie, he followed it through rich alluvial land—the Bathurst Plains—destitute of timber, but abounding in game. During the whole journey Evans met with only six natives, but saw the smoke of their encampments in many places. He returned to Sydney on the 8th of January, 1814. After a short interval he was again sent out to the same district, with a small party and one month's provisions. During this second journey Limestone Creek was discovered and explored; but its chief result was the discovery of another large river, which he called the Lachlan, after the Christian name of the Governor. The Lachlan and the Macquarie formed an enigma to the early geographers. Their sources were in the same neighbourhood, but both flowed towards the interior and kept diverging from one another during every mile of their known course.
The proper sequel to Evans's discoveries was the formation of a road over the mountains to Bathurst Plains. This was done in the same year by gangs of convicts under the command of one Cox, in anincredibly short space of time, as tradition reports. This road, 100 miles in length, was formally opened in May, 1815, by the Governor and Mrs. Macquarie, who rode the whole distance on horseback. Bathurst was then laid out, and has ever since continued to be one of the most flourishing places in the colony, as might well be expected from a town which commands 50,000 acres of first-class land within a radius of ten miles.
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The passion for exploration was not yet allowed to slumber. Deputy-Surveyor Evans's discovery of the Bathurst Plains, with two promising rivers, only whetted the desire for further knowledge. It was presumed that the Lachlan and the Macquarie united their waters in some part of their course and finally disembogued in an unknown part of the eastern coast. But all this was mere conjecture, which required to be cleared up by actual exploration. A new expedition was accordingly set on foot by the Governor, and a fit person appointed to the post of leader. This was the Surveyor-General, John Oxley, R.N., who appears to have been both an able and amiable man, combining thefortiter in rewith thesuaviter in modo. Allan Cunningham, who was his close associate, always spoke of Oxley in terms of admiration and endearment. Among other meritorious services he had the credit of giving to New South Wales the first map of her immense territories, a task for which he was well qualified by extensive colonial travel in his official capacity.
This expedition, as finally organized under the conduct of Oxley, consisted of Allan Cunningham, asking's botanist, Charles Frazer, as colonial botanist, William Parr, as mineralogist, and eight others. On the 20th of April, 1817, all the members of the expedition met at a store depôt on the bank of the Lachlan River, which had been fixed as the point of departure. The details of their weary wanderings have been recorded only at too great length in Oxley's published journals. The author in the commencement of his work apologized for the uneventful character of the narrative, and if this was necessary when enthusiasm for exploration was at fever heat, the reader of the present day is not likely to consider it superfluous. The fault, however, did not lie with the writer, but is to be attributed to the uninteresting materials which form the staple of his bulky volumes. The country he had to traverse soon turned out to be singularly tame and tedious. The sea coast, with its never-ending scenes of beauty, had been left far behind; the mountain ranges, with their vast and varied grandeur, had sunk below the horizon, and in place of both were found only the dull and dreary plains of the Australian bush. Were it not that the whole of the country was new, this record of daily travel would read like the diary of a conscientious but uneventful life. It will be desirable, therefore, to touch only on the chief points of the narrative.
Starting from the point previously indicated, the party proceeded on their travels along the southern bank of the river. Wild fowl appeared in largenumbers, offering excellent sport. The natives also were met with more frequently than would have been agreeable had they been disposed to be troublesome, which, fortunately, they were not. The one thing which surprised the explorers was the behaviour of the Lachlan, which, after showing itself a goodly river of a hundred feet in width, threatened to end its career in a most undignified fashion. This it very soon did, as they believed, by resolving itself into a succession of marshes, to which they gave the name of the Lachlan Swamps. Being unable to trace the river any further, Oxley now resolved to abandon the enterprise and return home by a different route. He made up his mind, accordingly, to make for the southern coast, which he hoped to strike about Cape Northumberland, and thence reach Sydney by sea. In this direction the course was steered till the 4th of July, when further progress became extremely difficult, from the sterility of the country and almost interminable forests of mallee, which Oxley, in a play of the imagination, named the Euryalean scrub. At last it became apparent to all that they would have to return to the Lachlan, through the want of water, if for no other cause, and this was now done. The retrograde movement was singularly unfortunate. Had they proceeded only twenty miles further the Murrumbidgee would have been discovered, with its never-failing volume of water. But, in their ignorance, it was otherwise determined, and a laurel lost to the wreath of this distinguishedexplorer. Nineteen weary days were consumed on this return journey, at the end of which the Lachlan was reached, a long distance below the swamps from which it had emerged, and was flowing in a strong current confined within high banks. Waterfowl were again seen and caught in abundance. Fish also were plentiful, some of them—the "Murray cod"—weighing sixty or seventy pounds. This good fortune induced the explorers to continue their journey down the river, in the hope of reaching some satisfactory result. This expectation was not realized. They were again landed among swamps and marshes, which were now regarded for certain as the termination of the Lachlan, and the exploration was conducted no further in this direction. Here, for the second time, Oxley narrowly missed discovering the Murrumbidgee, from which he was distant not more than two days' journey. The Lachlan had now been followed for about 500 miles from the place where the expedition had started, and it was resolved to proceed no further. A return was now made to Bathurst in an oblique direction, with the intention of striking the Macquarie at a point considerably below the place where it had first been seen by Evans. Some important discoveries were made during this cross-country cut. The Elizabeth River, Bell's River, and the Rivulet were met with and named. Most important of all was the discovery of Wellington Valley, an extensive tract of the finest country, well suited to all the purposes of civilizedman, and diversified with scenery of great beauty. After travelling 150 miles from the lower swamps of the Lachlan the Macquarie was struck about 50 miles below the place where it had been seen by Evans. It was a river of good promise, and Oxley was strongly inclined to follow it, as he had done the Lachlan, but the slender remnant of provisions forbade the attempt. The expedition, therefore, made for Bathurst, which was reached on the 29th of August, after an absence of nineteen weeks. The distance travelled from start to finish amounted to 1,200 miles.
Undeterred by the difficulties incurred on the Lachlan, Oxley, during the following year (1818), engaged in a similar expedition for the exploration of the lower course of the Macquarie. Tracing the unknown stream to the westward, he found himself led out of the region of hills into a country presenting a dead and monotonous level. Here the river began to lose its well-defined course and to spread its waters over the dreary expanse. With great difficulty, he succeeded in distinguishing the river from the lake for a short distance onward, after which further effort in a wide waste of water was to no purpose. Now, at last, he lost sight of land and trees altogether, though again able to discern the current of the Macquarie in a stream three feet deep winding in and out among thickets of reeds, which here grew to a giganticheight. Oxley conjectured he had now reached the commencement of an inland sea—a phantom which long played fast and loose with those who loved to speculate on the mysterious regions of Central Australia. In this pet fancy the explorer, like many other theorists, was quite mistaken, for this delusive expanse of water was not even the termination of the Macquarie River. Ten years later Captain Sturt succeeded in tracing it for 66 miles further, and found it ending its dubious career in the River Darling.
Two courses were now open to the expedition—either to return home disappointed, or strike out in a new direction and make fresh discoveries. The latter alternative was adopted. During an earlier part of the journey their attention had been drawn to a lofty range of dark mountains lying athwart the northern horizon. The march was now towards this prominent landmark of the unknown domain of nature. Before it was reached, and after the expedition had been out for about two months, progress was arrested by the discovery of a river running in high flood. This was named the Castlereagh, and a safe passage was obtained after a short delay. There remained a weary journey to the range which had so long loomed in the distance, and was reached after much difficulty, owing to the boggy character of the ground. One of the principal elevations was ascended, from which a magnificent prospect was obtained, and the height ascertained to be about 3,000 feet. Oxley gave to this chain the name of the Arbuthnot Range, but it is still mostgenerally known as the Warrambungle Mountains. The course of the expedition was now directed toward the east, in the hope of ultimately reaching the coast somewhere northward of Sydney. This purpose was rewarded by the discovery of the Liverpool Plains, the most valuable find that had hitherto fallen to the lot of any explorer. This is a splendid area of first-class land, consisting of level country embracing about 17,000 square miles, supposed to have formed in past ages the bed of a small inland sea. The next discovery was the Namoi River, called after Sir Robert Peel by Oxley, but it is still best known under the native designation. After traversing the Liverpool Plains the expedition entered upon the very dissimilar New England country, and experienced fatiguing travel in mountain ranges, which was rewarded by the discovery of another river, named the Apsley. One of the loftiest peaks in this region was ascended by Oxley, and found to be about 6,000 feet in height. From the crown of this mountain giant he was gratified with a glimpse of the Pacific Ocean, and very fittingly gave to his position the name of Mount Seaview. Shortly after the descent from this monarch of the mountains another important river was met with. Oxley called it the Hastings, in memory of the notorious Governor-General of India, and here, for once, the name has stuck. This river was now followed to the sea and the entrance named Port Macquarie, hitherto unknown to Europeans. The exploring party, having now done their work so well,resolved to make for home by travelling along the coast. Difficulties undreamt of were encountered in the indentation of the shore and the estuaries of the rivers, one of which, the Manning, was now first discovered. These obstacles might well have proved insuperable but for their good luck in meeting with a boat, probably the relic of a wreck, which was stranded and half-buried in the sand. The welcome treasure was carried on their shoulders for 90 miles, and put to use in crossing estuaries as they came in the way. With this unexpected help in time of need the party were enabled to reach Port Stephens. This harbour had been discovered by Surveyor Grimes and was now well known. Thence conveyance was obtained by sea to Newcastle, where the toil-worn adventurers found themselves once more within the pale of civilization.
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Sir Thomas Brisbane succeeded to the Government of New South Wales on the 1st of December, 1821. The work of exploration, which had received such extraordinary impulse under Macquarie, was taken up with corresponding zeal by the new Governor. The southern limit of discovery at this period stood somewhere about Lake George; and public attention was largely directed to the unknown country lying beyond this outpost. The passion for exploration in this quarter had been discouraged, but not suppressed, by a rash and unwarranted statement made by Oxley in the journal he had given to the world. "We had demonstrated beyond a doubt," said he, "that no river could fall into the sea between Cape Otway and Spencer's Gulf—at least, none deriving its waters from the eastern coast—and that the country south of the parallel of 34 deg., and west of the meridian 147 deg. 30 min. was uninhabitable and useless for all the purposes of civilized man." This singularly unfortunate assertion should have been affirmative instead of negative, for the principal rivers of the continent enter the sea within the limits here specified, and some of the largest tracts of good land in Australia are enclosed by these lines of longitude and latitude.Governor Brisbane, fortunately, was not convinced by this so-called demonstration, and felt disposed to have the question practically tested. With this object in view, he proposed to the late Alexander Berry, himself no mean explorer, to land a small party of convicts at Cape Howe or Wilson's Promontory, with instructions, under promise of reward, to find their way overland to Lake George as they best could, and ultimately to Sydney. Mr. Berry cordially fell in with the proposal, and recommended as leader of the party a young man who had already made his mark as a bushman. The latter, however, demurred to the plan of the expedition, wishing it to start from Lake George and work its way overland to Western Port, in Bass' Strait. This suggestion was adopted without scruple or delay, and the offer of his services gladly accepted.
This young man's name was Hamilton Hume. He was a native of the colony, having been born at Parramatta in 1797. In those early days educational facilities were few, and it fell out from this cause that Hume owed all the learning he possessed to the instructions of his kind mother. In after life he was more indebted to his instincts than to his education. A bushman, like a poet, is born, not made; and Hume, before leaving his 'teens, proved that genius for exploration was part of his nature. In company with his brother, and when but fifteen years of age, he discovered the district of Berrima, and shortly after completely explored that part of the country. In1817 he passed the southern boundary of the known territory, and, in conjunction with Surveyor Meehan, made the discovery of Lake Bathurst and the Goulburn Plains. Again, in the year 1821, he proceeded further out, along with several mates, and came upon the Yass Plains. All these discoveries, however valuable for stockholders, may be regarded as but tentative essays in the work of exploration in comparison with what was to follow; yet they must have been highly advantageous in qualifying Hume for the arduous expedition on which his fame must chiefly rest.
While the necessary preparations for this undertaking were afoot, Mr. Berry intimated to the Governor that another person was desirous of being associated with Hume in the position of leader. This was Captain Hovell, of Minto, a retired shipmaster. Having been a professional navigator, he was presumed to be able to reckon longitude and latitude, an accomplishment which the defectively-educated Hume, with all his bushmanship, did not possess. The two men being thus furnished with complementary qualifications, their association in the conduct of the expedition was counted as a certain advantage. This was surely a reasonable expectation; but the event proved that a greater mistake could not have been made. The two leaders, like jealous rivals, quarrelled from the start, kept wrangling throughout the expedition, and, after it was over, maintained a bitter feud, till death put an end to their animosity. The principal share in this work, and credit for the results,have been claimed by both, and it is not easy to satisfy oneself as to the real merits of the case. All things considered, the balance of evidence is in favour of Hume, and he shall have the more prominent place in the following sketch of the expedition.
However favourable the Government might be to the progress of discovery, a poor provision was made for this long and perilous journey. The chief burden of the equipment fell upon the explorers themselves, who were ill able to bear the strain. Hume keenly felt the sacrifice of a favourite iron plough in order to purchase supplies. One way or other, a tolerable provision was forthcoming; and then the explorers, accompanied by six servants, started on the pioneer journey on the 17th of October, 1824. At the close of the first day's march they encamped on the bank of a river near the site of the present town of Yass. From the 19th to the 22nd the expedition was detained in its progress by the Murrumbidgee. In the preceding year this river had been first seen by Europeans in its upper course in the Monaro country; but for all that Hume had virtually the merit of being the discoverer. The Murrumbidgee was found to be in high flood, and threatened an effectual bar to further progress. But difficulty aroused this explorer to Herculean effort. Being supplied with a provision-cart, Hume took off the wheels, and, with the help of a tarpaulin, improvised it into a rough-and-ready punt, which, assisted by one of the men, he dragged across the swollen river. Another day's marchbrought them to the Narrengullen Meadows, where the party encamped for two nights. Again proceeding southward, the Tumut River was discovered, and crossed without difficulty. Soon after, the expedition was saluted by a splendid surprise. From the summit of a ridge, a little before noon on a clear and beautiful day, the magnificent amphitheatre of the Australian Alps, robed in snow, burst upon the view, and was now first seen by civilized men. About this time, or shortly before, it became evident to Hume that it would be necessary to direct the line of march more to the west, in order to avoid the Snowy Mountains. From this proposal Hovell dissented. Both leaders continued obstinate, and each persisted in following a different course with his respective adherents. A division of property had now become inevitable, and the principle of partition seems to have been that primitive one in virtue of which the stronger gets the larger share. There being only one frying-pan remaining, each of the stalwart leaders simultaneously caught hold of this handy domestic article, and the poor pan went to pieces in the struggle, the result being such as would have followed the adoption of Solomon's advice to halve the living child. The separation of the leaders was not so irremediable as the division of the frying-pan. Hovell soon discovered the folly of schism, and, better thoughts prevailing, returned to re-unite his party with Hume's.
After this incident nothing calling for special mention occurred till the 16th of November, which wassignalled by the discovery of the principal river of Australia. Here was an agreeable surprise, coming as it did in defiance of the prediction of Oxley, who was reckoned the highest authority of the period. Hume called this river after his father; but, forgetful of this fact, Captain Sturt, having hit it in its lower course, gave it the name of the Murray, by which it is now known through its whole length. The party who thus found themselves brought to a stand-still naturally looked upon the crossing of so large a river as a formidable undertaking, and some even insisted on regarding it as the limit of the expedition—perhaps homesickness also was beginning to prevail over their ardour for exploration. Hume was inflexible, as usual, threatening to throw one of the remonstrants into the river if he would not cross over of his own free will. The menace was effectual, and the heroic leader had the satisfaction of seeing the whole of the expedition on the other side of the Murray, having escaped without a hitch or accident. Soon after, a tributary, the Mitta Mitta, was reached, and crossed by means of a float constructed of wattles, and covered with a tarpaulin. Turning its course more to the westward, the expedition continued to advance towards the attainment of its object. Passing near the site of the present Beechworth, the Ovens and Goulburn Rivers were crossed without serious difficulty. In fact, the whole journey up to this point had been remarkably uneventful for an Australian tour of exploration. But for the leaders' quarrels andseparations it might have sunk into a rather tame and monotonous affair. Now at length, however, a Titanic obstacle had to be encountered. Mount Disappointment (of which Mount Macedon is a continuation) stretched across the track, as if to defy further progress. For a while they nobly persevered in hewing their way through the dense, tangled, and apparently interminable brushwood, being animated by the assurance of Hume that the opposing barrier could be nothing else than the Dividing Range, which betokened the near termination of their labours. Unfortunately the life and soul of the expedition, now more than ever indispensable to its success, here met with a disabling accident from a stake. The way through the scrub had to be abandoned, and a more circuitous route followed. The most serious difficulty on the march was a boggy creek in the locality where the town of Kilmore now stands. Here again an attempt was made to throw up the undertaking and return home. Hume, feeling certain in his own mind that they could not have much further to go, entered into a compact with the discontents, engaging to turn back in the course of two or three days should the goal of the journey fail to come in view within that period. On the same day, the 13th December, the Dividing Range, in this part known as the Big Hill, was finally crossed, and all difficulties came to an end. Hume, having proceeded a short way in advance, and keeping an anxious look-out, observed an opening in the mountains and a falling of the land toward thesouth. This was a clear token heralding the approach to the close of their wanderings. Hume, alone as he was, gave way to an outburst of gladness, and awoke the echoes of the ranges with his lusty cheers. His men came speedily round him and shared his joy. Their fatigues and disappointments were henceforth things to be remembered, but no longer felt. The same evening they encamped on the splendid Iramoo Downs, having the ramparts of the range at their backs, and in three days more saw the long-desired billows of the ocean rolling at their feet. Having reached the close of the journey, they formed the last encampment within twelve miles of the present town of Geelong, after travelling, since their start from Lake George, not less than 670 miles.
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Few visitors to the Sydney Botanic Gardens can fail to notice a memorial obelisk standing on a shady islet in the lower grounds. This monument, as the inscription declares, was erected in memory of Allan Cunningham, an eminent botanist, and for some time curator of these Gardens. But beyond the scanty information here given, very little is now generally known of the life and work of this worthy man. Restrained by that modesty which is so often a concomitant of real genius, he shrank from publicity during his own brief and busy lifetime; and posterity, ever too forgetful of the obligations of the past, have allowed his achievements to lapse into unmerited oblivion. This is flagrant ingratitude which should be brought to an end by a generous endeavour to resuscitate a heroic and patriotic memory.
Allan Cunningham was born at Wimbledon, England, on the 13th of July, 1791, and was of Scotch extraction on the father's side. Being designated for the bar he entered in due time upon the legal profession, but soon abandoned it as uncongenial to his tastes and habits. The study of botany proved an irresistible fascination to young Allan, who soon became a proficient in this science. Having been introduced toSir Joseph Banks, he obtained, through his influence, an appointment as King's Botanist for Australia, with the view of furnishing the Royal Gardens at Kew with a collection of new plants from the southern hemisphere. He sailed, accordingly, for his destination; and, after spending a short time in Brazil, landed in New South Wales, probably in December, 1816. As noticed in a preceding chapter he was associated with Oxley in his expeditions to the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers, and it was during these wanderings that the young botanist conceived a passion for exploration which did not leave him till the day of his death. This tour being ended, Cunningham returned to Parramatta, where he fixed his home, so far as he had one, during his life in Australia.
In the close of 1817, theMermaid, under the command of Captain, afterwards Admiral, King, was preparing to leave Port Jackson on a voyage of discovery on the western coast of Australia. Cunningham, to his intense satisfaction, received a letter from Sir Joseph Banks, directing him to join this expedition, in the interest of botanical science. Sailing through Bass' Strait theMermaidcame to anchor in King George's Sound and other harbours, which proved to be well suited for the botanist's purpose, and yielded 300 species of new plants. With this spoil he came home fully satisfied. His next essay in this field was an excursion to Illawarra, which was always a favourite district with him. But this ramblewas only an interlude. In 1819 he again joined Captain King in an expedition to the Macquarie Harbour, on the western coast of Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania), where also he collected many valuable specimens for the Kew Gardens. Soon after he was again associated with the same navigator on another voyage to the north-western coast. Still two more expeditions to the same coast were undertaken and successfully carried out within the next two years. The results in every case were highly successful, and the boundaries of science gained further extension from these enterprises.
Having spent four years on these voyages with King, Cunningham became inoculated with the spirit of adventure, and thirsted for an exploit on his own account. The feat he proposed to himself was to open a practical route from Bathurst to the Liverpool Plains. This splendid district, as already narrated, had been discovered by Oxley three years previously; but he had entered it from the western side—so to speak, by the back door—on his journey from the marshes of the Macquarie. The discovery had, consequently, been useless, and the Liverpool Plains were as yet known only by name. Sir Thomas Brisbane, the Governor of the day, entered heartily into Cunningham's scheme, having clearly understood the importance of the object in view. Orders for an equipment were issued to the full extent of the explorer's requirements. All things being ready by the 31st of March, 1823, the party, consisting of the leader, with fivemen, and five pack-horses, carrying provisions for ten weeks, left Parramatta for Bathurst, which was reached on the 5th of April, and then the northward journey commenced. After many weary stages, during which the patience of the men and the strength of the horses were severely tried, they reached the Warrambungle Mountains, which form the southern boundary of the Liverpool Plains; but the difficulty in finding a passage through this barrier appeared to be insuperable. The first fortnight was spent to no purpose in attempting to discover an opening on the south-eastern side. Almost in despair, the party retraced their steps and fell back on a former encampment on the Goulburn River, the principal tributary of the Hunter. Provisions were now getting short, and the allowance had to be reduced; but, in spite of all these dispiriting circumstances, Cunningham still resolved to prosecute his enterprise by making another struggle to find an entrance from a different point. Turning now to the north-west, and searching along the front of the range, he succeeded at last, on the 5th of June, in discovering a gap which afforded a good passage into the Liverpool Plains. To this entrance he gave the name of Pandora's Pass, believing it would become the chief if not the only means of communication between the settlers at Bathurst and the Hunter River and the occupants of the plains. The following memorandum was buried in a valley immediately below the pass:—
"After a very laborious and harassing journey fromBathurst, a party, consisting of five persons, under the direction of Allan Cunningham, H.M. Botanist (making the sixth individual), having failed of finding a route to the Liverpool Plains, whilst tracing the south base of the barrier mountains (before us, north), so far as 50 miles to the eastward of this spot, at length, upon prosecuting their research under this great mountain belt, north by west from this tree, to the very extensive levels connected with the above-mentioned plains, of which the southernmost of the chain is distant about 11 or 12 miles N.N.W. from this valley, and to which a line of trees has been carefully marked, thus opening an unlimited, unbounded, and seemingly well-watered country N.N.W. to call forth the exertions of the industrious agriculturist and grazier, for whose benefit the present labours of the party have been extended.... Buried for the information of the first farmers who may venture to advance so far to the northward as this vale; of whom it is requested that this document may not be destroyed, but carried to the settlement at Bathurst, after opening the bottle."
This memorandum was found a few years ago, and the explorer's directions carried out. The object of the expedition being now accomplished, the party returned on the homeward track, and Allan Cunningham reached Parramatta on the 21st of July, 1823.
In the next important enterprise he is found associated with Oxley, exploring the country around Moreton Bay. They surveyed the Brisbane River,pushing up the stream as far as was practicable in their boat. It turned out to have but a short course, and they were disappointed in their expectation of being carried for some distance into the interior. Yet this labour had the negative value of satisfying the public that the Brisbane was not one of the great rivers of Australia. The King's Botanist again found rich spoil for the Royal Gardens at Kew.
During the winter months of 1825, being again bent on travel, Cunningham started for a northern tour. Leaving Parramatta, he crossed the Hawkesbury and proceeded towards Wollombi, one of the tributaries of the Hunter River. Still pushing ahead he reached Mount Danger, then Pandora's Pass, and entered upon the Liverpool Plains. These he now found to be a region of swamps and marshes as the consequence of a rainy season. Having crossed this district as best he could, the ardent traveller pressed on through Camden Valley and reached Dunlop's Head, at no great distance from the River Darling, which, with a little presentiment, he might soon have discovered and anticipated Captain Sturt. But as the country was now beginning to dip perceptibly, being in many places covered with water, which had accumulated during recent wet weather, he deemed prudence the better part of valour, and abandoned a hopeless enterprise. He was again in his own home by the 17th of June, having travelled in all about 700 miles.
After a short season of rest, during which NewZealand was visited, this untiring scientist returned to the colony and offered himself for further exploration with renewed zest and zeal. The time was opportune, for the Governor had been anxiously looking about for a suitable leader to conduct an expedition to the distant north. Cunningham's offer was therefore eagerly accepted, and ample provision made for his requirements. All things being ready, the start was made on the 30th of April, 1827, with six picked men and eleven heavily-laden horsemen. The route skirted the western flank of the Liverpool Plains, and by the 11th of May the party entered upon ground hitherto untrodden by civilized man. A fine valley now opened to view, and was named the Stoddart, in remembrance of an old friend of the explorer's. The Namoi River was next forded, and by the 25th the hilly country on the west had sunk into the plain. The scene that now lay before them will be best described in the words of the leader of the expedition. "A level open interior of vast expanse, bounded on the north and north-west by a distant horizon, broke suddenly on our view. At north-west, more particularly, it was evident to all of us that the country had a decided dip, and in that bearing the line of sight extended over a great extent of densely wooded or brushed land, the monotonous aspect of which was here and there relieved by a brown patch of plain; of these some were so remote as to appear a mere speck on theoceanof land before us, on which the eye sought anxiously for a rising smokeas indicative of the presence of the wandering aborigines, but in vain; for, excepting in the immediate neighbourhood of a river of the larger magnitude, these vast solitudes may be fairly said to be almost entirely without inhabitants. We had now all the high grounds on our right, or to the east of us, and before us, to the north, a level wooded country." These plains which ran out towards the western interior, having turned out to be drier than was expected, the line of route was now directed more to the north and north-west, with the result of discovering and crossing the Dumaresq River, within a few days. The course next lay for some time through a poor and inhospitable country in which the jaded horses fared badly enough. By the 5th of June, this sterile belt was left behind, and now the eyes of the patient explorers rested on one of the finest regions they had ever beheld. For many a league north, east, and west the field of vision was filled with a panorama of boundless plains, rolling downs, and azure mountain ranges. This magnificent territory, rivalling a principality in size, was clad with luxuriant vegetation and generally well watered. The name Darling Downs was subsequently bestowed on this fine country in honour of Governor Darling, and it now forms one of the most valued possessions in the colony of Queensland. The average elevation of this table-land Cunningham found to be about 1,800 feet above sea-level. Had this worthy man performed no other public service during his lifetime, the discovery ofthe Darling Downs would have given him a strong claim on the gratitude of posterity.
Having now sufficiently realized the aim of the northern expedition, Allan Cunningham ceased to push farther in that direction, and made eastward for the coast. Here also was made an important discovery on a smaller scale in the unexpected appearance of a fertile valley, with a river of greater size than a mountain stream. To both the valley and the river he gave the name of Logan, in compliment to the commander of the penal settlement at Brisbane. The expedition tarried for some time in this lovely vale, where both men and beasts of burden enjoyed much-needed repose. Cunningham himself, who scarcely understood what rest meant, botanized as usual, and examined the physical configuration of the country. On a fine morning he scaled one of the impending peaks, from the summit of which he obtained a comprehensive view of the situation and its surroundings. To the south-east, at the distance of 60 or 70 miles, the towering cone of Mount Warning, the sailor's beacon, rose in impressive grandeur; while towards the north-east the environs of Moreton Bay were plainly visible. This latter revelation made it obvious that the proper route to the Darling Downs would be from Moreton Bay, by the Brisbane River, and through the Main Range. Hence it became a matter of the first importance to find a passage through the mountains, if within the bounds of possibility. An effort was accordinglymade, and an opening, as he believed, discovered, but its complete verification had to be deferred till another opportunity. The homeward journey was resumed on the 16th of June. On the 30th, the Dumaresq River was crossed 50 miles above the outward bound track of the expedition. In ten days more a large river was reached, and is now well-known under the native name Gwydir. They next came upon a wooded tract, reached by a descent of 1,200 feet, a sore task for the weary horses. On the 19th the party were again on the Liverpool Plains, and a few days' more travelling brought them to their welcome homes. They had journeyed over 800 miles, and been absent thirteen weeks. One noteworthy incident connected with the tour was the paucity of native inhabitants met with in any of the districts. Only five times, from first to last, had the black-fellows put in an appearance, and even then the explorers had seen nothing but the colour of their skin.
Cunningham's health now began to give way, and he longed to return to old England, to end his days in the land of his birth; but, before doing so, he planned and executed another exploring excursion to Moreton Bay. His principal object was to obtain certain evidence of the existence and practicability of the pass, which he believed to have been already discovered. After much rough work he had the good fortune to set this question at rest and point out a passage into the Darling Downs, as he had formerlydone into the Liverpool Plains. This pass still retains the name of Cunningham's Gap. The following succinct but sufficient notice is found in the explorer's own notes:—"This pass, or door of entrance from the sea-coast to a beautiful pastoral country of undefined extent, seen from this point, was this day (25th August, 1828) visited by Allan Cunningham and a convict servant, and the practicability of a high road being constructed through it at some future day was most fully ascertained. The pass is in latitude 23° 3' S., and longitude 152° 26' E., and distant 54 statute miles from Brisbane Town." Four years later he was able to carry out his purpose of returning to England; but his heart was in Australia all the while, and he became impatient to get back to its sunny skies and balmy air. On being offered the situation of Colonial Botanist he accepted the appointment, and returned to the land of so many of his labours; but his new office was not what he expected. Besides keeping the Botanic Gardens, which would, alone, have been a most congenial occupation, he was required to act as landscape gardener for the upper classes and take charge of one hundred convicts, forty of whom were lodged in the barracks within the Gardens, and for whose good behaviour the curator was alone responsible. In addition to all this drudgery he was compelled to grow vegetables for the Government officials. Such servitude was breaking his heart, and it can surprise no one to find him throwing up the appointment in disgust. This undignified treatmentof a man of shining merits is tartly alluded to in theSydney Mailof the 29th January, 1838:—
"The Botanical, alias the Kitchen Garden.—We have had frequently to call the attention of the colonists to the fact that a kitchen garden, under the pretence of a botanic garden, is supported in Sydney at an expense of from £800 to £1,000 a year. We scarcely ever walk through this garden without seeing some servant with a basket, carrying off vegetables or fruit for Mrs. This or Mrs. That, the wife of some official. Can't these people go to market and purchase their supplies as independent persons do, instead of poaching on what is really public property. Seriously we do say that such an impudent job should be done away with. It is, in fact, so bare-faced that Mr. Cunningham would no longer consent to remain a mere cultivator of official turnips and cabbages, and accordingly he has resigned the management of the Botanic Garden in disgust."
This valuable life was now fast hastening to its close. Twenty-five years of incessant labour, often performed under the most trying circumstances, broke down a constitution never particularly robust, and feeling this to be the case, Allan Cunningham retired from public view into his own hired house—but only to die. At the early age of 48 years, perceiving the hand of death to be upon him, he calmly resigned himself to the will of his Maker, and died as becomes a Christian. He expired on the 27th of June, 1839. Admiral King, who had stood his firm friend duringthe quarter of a century of Cunningham's active life, refers to his own bereavement in these touching words:—"Alas, poor Allan! He was a rare specimen, quite a genus of himself; an enthusiast in Australian geography; devoted to his own science, botany; a warm friend, and an honest man; and, to crown all, when the time came, he resigned himself into the arms of his Saviour without a murmur."