Gold! The Robertson
Land Acts and Warrimoo
Identifying the geography of New South Wales as being very similar to the countryside
he recently visited in the California Gold Rush, Edward Hammond Hargraves set
off across the Mountains’ Road towards Bathurst seeking
clues to a possible ‘El Dorado ’
west of the Great Divide.
This romantic painting of Edward Hammond Hargraves (1816--1891) shows him acknowledging the cheers of grateful gold miners, in front of a mountain range, presumably the Blue Mountains |
He met John Hardman Lister at an Inn along the way. Lister mentioned that he had heard
gold specks had been found in Lewis Ponds Creek, so Hargraves promised the
young man he would show him how to find gold. They panned at Lewis Ponds Creek
and found five specks of ‘colour’.
It was April, 1851. This was headline news.
With Hargraves encouragement, a fever was being generated. By mid April, 400
people were panning for gold at Ophir. By December of the same year, 10,000
were frantically mining at Ballarat—the Australian Gold Rushes had begun.
Swollen Immigration
The next decade saw a massive influx of
immigrants. For a group of colonies which had taken sixty years to achieve a
white population of 405,000, the next ten years’ arrivals amounted to a tidal
wave. In that time over 700,000 new optimists, including 50,000 Chinese,
swamped the countryside seeking a new and fortunate life.
S. T. Gill's famous drawings: at left the road to the goldfields, at right, Chinese diggers at their labour |
Throughout all this, the area now known as
Warrimoo remained a campsite. The famous ‘Black Stump’ referred to by Maisie
Lupton[1]
had a clearing and a basic fireplace where weary travelers could bed down, bake
some damper and boil a billy. There is (up to this point in time, at least) no
evidence of non-Aboriginal occupation up to the 1860’s.
The Demand for Land
Sir John Robertson (1816--1891). Despite being a large pastoralist himself, the NSW Premier realised the need for fairer land distribution, and introduced his 'Land Acts' in 1861. |
Many of the new immigrants saw
opportunities in the fledgling settlements of the colony, and felt that land
ownership offered the best chance of building wealth. However most land
throughout New South Wales had already been
“locked up”, either as Crown
Land , previously granted
and/or sold land, or as large scale “Stations” controlled by wealthy squatters,
who paid peppercorn rental to the Crown for their pastoral properties.
Naturally, the most fertile, well-watered,
less rocky and most accessible land was sought out and struggled over. In many
districts, squatters aimed to block the new and enthusiastic farmers with a
host of subversive and downright shonky practices, yet the process continued.
The ‘First Landowners’
When engaging in Australian history such as that at Warrimoo, historians must inevitably confront the reality of ‘Terra Nullius’. Of course the real ‘first landowners’ were either Darug or Gundungarra peoples, and their ‘ownership’ was different in nature to that conceived by British tradition—it was more a question of ‘custodianship’, where the land in question was tended and replenished in a cyclical manner, in preparation for future visits and future generations.
Thus, ‘firestick farming’ occurred when a group was leaving a given area to replenish green grassland and remove unwanted shrubbery, so that hunting and general movement was made easier. Thick forest-land was left as such to retain bush habitat for edible vegetation and game. Tracks were maintained as groups moved through, simply by uprooting and removing obstacles. The idea of ‘changing’ or ‘clearance’ or ‘building upon’ an identifiable stretch of ground and working upon it in a ‘lineal’, ‘progressive’ or ‘developmental’ way was not the aim.
Lapstone escarpment as seen from 'Emu Plains Road'--this was Emu Plains while there were still emus present--as painted by an early colonial observer, Augustus Earle. |
A very powerful case[2] can be made for the notion that British colonizers walked in to an ‘Eden of Plenty’ in 1788. Aside from the travails of the First Fleet, the members of which understood very little of the environment around them, colonial explorers more frequently spoke of ‘rich grasslands’, ‘abundant wildlife’ and ‘plentiful game’. At the same time, white settlers generally ignored the edible vegetation all around them and preferred to import European crops which often failed.
Indications—from available European writings of the period—tend to support the notion of both ‘clear forest areas’ as well as ‘dense bushland’ coexistent with ‘plenty’ upon first arrival. There were plenty of emus at ‘Emu Plains’ for example, and Blaxland, Wentworth and Lawson, along with the other explorers of the time, were always able to shoot game when the necessity arose. They came across ‘open forest areas’ and clear streams such as that near Sun Valley as well as tough, bush-bashing vegetation which made progress difficult. In short, Darug and Gundungarra land management practices had provided a complex yet plentiful, some might say ‘idyllic’ environment, for human existence.
Yet by the 1860’s the ‘first landowners’ had effectively gone from Warrimoo. The density of traffic moving to and fro across the Great Western Road meant that all stock fodder had been stripped for kilometres on either side. Native animals had been hunted into scarcity or extinction (by the 1830’s there were no more emus at Emu Plains), and random but fairly frequent bushfire incidents had changed the shape and ecology of the bush forever.
Darug survivors from the Hawkesbury region, photographed here at the turn of the 20th century: the Everinghams, the Barbers, and George H. Morley |
It is logical to assume that these factors alone made survival and reproduction for Darug and Gundungarra clans vastly more difficult. Then there was the likelihood of killings and deaths from disease as the European population became more omnipresent. Many Indigenous people became fringe dwellers—there is certain evidence of a substantial presence of Aboriginal people at Springwood up until the 1830’s---and many sought work on the farms of the Marsdens (St. Marys), Blaxlands (St. Marys and Wallacia) and Coxes (Richmond and Mulgoa) down on the Cumberland plain.
As land became available and white settlement expanded during the latter half of the nineteenth century, Darug and Gundungarra families were herded into more confined settlements, generally termed ‘missions’ and ‘reserves’. There was the first gathering of families at Blacktown , but others sprang up at South Creek, Eastern Creek (this settlement had Darug burial grounds) Sackville Reach on the Hawkesbury, and in the Mountains, at ‘The Gully’ near Katoomba.
Three proud descendants who have done much to promote awareness of the continuing vibrancy of Darug and Gundungarra culture: Aunties Joan Cooper, Dawn Colless and Betty Locke |
The ‘Gully’ was a well known settlement in the Mountains which held descendants of both Darug and Gundungarra nations. It lasted until the 1950’s when a car racing circuit called “Catalina Park” was established there. The Aboriginal people were evicted and dispersed, although many of their descendants continued to live in their original ‘Country’[3]. According to the last census, there are currently about 1,000 Aboriginal people living in the Blue Mountains , several of whom live in Warrimoo.
The Railway Rolls By—1867--1918
The most prominent locomotive to have operated on the Blue Mountains, the 'G-23' --as seen at the Powerhouse Museum, Sydney |
‘Warrimoo’ would not have been born had it
not been for the marriage of two ‘Great’ forms of infrastructure: the ‘Western’
or ‘Bathurst ’
Road, and the ‘Western Railway’. We know that Cox and Mitchell were key figures
in the construction of the former, but it would be a truly outstanding figure
who achieved the latter.[4]
Famously, it was John Whitton,
Engineer-in-Chief of N.S.W., whose determination inspired the construction of a
railway from Penrith to Bathurst ,
and hence through the future area of Warrimoo, between 1862 and 1867.
His ambition was driven by the need to
further develop Western NSW, and by the agitation of the now gold-rich
residents of Bathurst for a fast and efficient
transport link to Sydney .
Indeed, it was the combined wealth of gold and wool that provided the infant
colony with the wherewithal for such an ambitious project.
Bust of John Whitton--'Father of the NSW Railways'--at Central Station, Sydney |
There was also a rival scheme announced by
Sir William Denison which proposed a ‘light-rail’ horse-drawn tramway across the
‘Mountains, running through the centre of the Western or ‘Bathurst ’ Road.[5]
Whitton felt the public pressure, but was
confronted by three natural obstacles: the Nepean River ,
and two steep escarpment slopes either side of the Great Divide, at Lapstone
and Lithgow.
Whitton Shows His Genius
Victoria Bridge, over the Nepean River at Penrith. Whitton designed the bridge for rail and vehicular traffic, and construction of the piers began in 1862 |
The Engineer-in-Chief had deep faith in heavy rail, and his plans emanated from that. He designed the
Meanwhile, a “Mr. Watkins’” company was
contracted to build a viaduct over Knapsack Gully in order to smooth out the
gradient up the escarpment. This was something reminiscent of the Roman Empire , and consisted of six massive piers
supporting soaring arches, the highest of which reached 36.9 metres from the
floor of the gully. Two further viaducts of similar magnitude were built on the
western side of the Mountains to erect the Lithgow, or ‘Great’ zig-zag.[7]
An artist's impression of the 'Great' or Lithgow Zig-Zag as it looked upon completion--the viaduct arches are a stunning testament of Blue Mountains architecture |
The slope up Lapstone hill was inclined at
1:33—too steep for 19th century locomotives to climb in one stretch.
From the outset, Whitton had wanted a tunnel carved into the mountainside to
reduce the gradient by half--1:60. The length of the tunnel would have to be 2
miles (3.22 kms), and it would need 10 million bricks to secure its interior.
No contractor would take it on…[8]
A gradient profile of the Lapstone escarpment, showing where the tunnel ultimately by-passed the Zig-Zag, from Railway West Chronicles, p.27 |
So Whitton designed the two “Z” shaped
zig-zags at the east-west bookends of the Blue Mountains .
How it works is as follows…The upper and lower “points” extend beyond the
central arm. A train approaches along the lower arm and continues until the
last of the vehicles is beyond the intersection. The lower point is then
switched to the central arm track, and the loco then pushes the train backwards
up the angled section until the train is clear of the top arm, where it then
proceeds on its way. With a good signals team switching the tracks at the
appropriate times, the whole procedure could be carried out in 20 minutes.[9]
The Railway Arrives at … ‘Karabar’ / ‘Karabah’?
Ultimately, in a triumph of engineering for
such a young colony, the eastern obstacles were overcome: Victoria Bridge ,
the Knapsack Viaduct and the Lapstone Zig-Zag all now shone, so that feverish
work on the remaining single-line track could proceed all the way to
‘Weatherboard’.
When this section of the Great Western Line
was opened to great fanfare in 1867, it comprised six stations: ‘Watertank’
(Glenbrook)—so named because all locos needed refilling from Glenbrook Lagoon
after their uphill climb—‘Wascoes’ (Blaxland), ‘Springwood’, ‘Buss’s’
(Woodford), ‘Blue Mountains’ (Lawson)—this is why Lawson now claims itself to
be the original ‘Blue Mountain’,--and ‘Weatherboard’ (Wentworth Falls) itself.
After the western (Lithgow) zig-zag was completed in October 1869, when the
first train traversed it and arrived at ‘Bowenfels’, the rail crossing of the Blue Mountains was complete.
Given the rugged terrain and the basic 'Pulling and Lifting' power available to workers, the line was completed with amazing rapidity. |
On October 1st, 1881, ‘Karabar
Platform’ and waiting shed was opened. The name of this first railway platform
is believed to have been derived from the name ‘Karadra’, an Aboriginal Elder
of the Boorooborangal, or Nepean
nation.[10]
A certain ‘Karabah Terrace’ presently runs behind some houses on Florabella Street
and the Warrimoo Public School , no doubt memorialising this
place-name, but with a different spelling.
The Railways always referred to the area as 'Karabar', but NSW Lands Dept. oscillated between the 'r' and the 'h' spelling, as evidenced in Survey Maps and this sign. |
Confusion surrounding the spelling of the
name ‘Karabah/Karabar’ can feasibly be explained by different spellings in two
survey maps produced in July and September 1909, where the former spelled it
with an ‘r’ and the latter with an ‘h’[11]
…could it be the original name for the area later to be known as Warrimoo was
borne of a spelling mistake, or maybe even the fuzzy vision of a Lands Dept. or
Railways clerk?
Whatever the case, the arrival of this new
platform signaled a new stage in the establishment of settlement at Warrimoo,
and the ‘Mountains generally. Firstly, land could now be developed along
agricultural, industrial, commercial, or residential purposes with heavy
transportation available nearby.
Secondly, thousands of railway workers now
witnessed the powerful beauty of the Blue Mountains which previously had
remained largely unnoticed, being a mere transit space to the goldfields or sheep
stations out west. Now it became a place of residence for fettlers, signalmen,
gatekeepers, engineers, stationmasters and the host of other workers and
suppliers to the railroads.
Platform Upgrades
It wasn’t long before the Lapstone Zig-Zag
became a bottleneck of ever-growing rail traffic so Whitton’s dream of a tunnel
on the escarpment was revisited, along with a general upgrading of the line to
allow more crossing and overtaking trains. Thus, additional to a new ‘Glenbrook
Tunnel Loop’ being constructed for ‘up’ trains from Sydney , a ‘Signal Box Loop’ was established
midway between Glenbrook and Springwood which served to divert trains while
others passed or crossed them.
The line as it would've looked passing through 'Karabar', prior to the platform. A plan for residential development was soon to follow--photo from When We Rode The Rails, p.41 |
The new loop was at ‘Karabar’ and it was
set up in 1895 and upgraded even more extensively in 1902, when the railway was
duplicated. Naturally, a ‘Signals Box’ of this importance would have necessitated
a Signal Man, who, along with the Gatekeeper required to ensure vehicular
traffic crossed the line safely, must live in the vicinity and be able to
answer emergency calls and adjust signals along the line.
A central question arises…could this ‘Gatekeeper’
and ‘Signalman’, their families ensconced in their cottage homes, have been the
first European residents of Warrimoo, or had the 1882 Richardson and Wrench
subdivision gained some sales such that other settlers had arrived before them in
the early 1880’s?
The evidence seems to point to a pretty
slow uptake in the market, because the Karabar Platform was closed down on
December 9th 1897 due to a ‘lack of patronage’. It was re-opened in
1902 and the Signal Box was again upgraded in 1909, but it would appear that fire or misuse (?) destroyed the remnants of
the ‘platform’ by 1913(?) leaving the whole area in a kind of limbo…
The First
European Land
Holders [12]
The first Land Grants or Purchases
occurred at ‘Karabar’ after the development of both the Great Western Road and Railway, the
enactment of the Robertson Land Acts and the subsequent Volunteer Regulation
Force Act of 1867.
This last Act is significant because it is
possible that some 50 acre blocks may have been granted under it at Karabar.
This reflected an imperialist tradition that went back to the Roman
Empire , where loyal, long-serving soldiers were rewarded for their
services with land. One of the great advantages possessed by the British Empire
was that it had acquired, by whatever means, large tracts of land that could be
transferred at the whim of the Crown under the aegis of ‘Terra Nullius’.
When the time came for ‘the Crown’ (Britain ) to
disengage from its colonies, new locally drafted troops were required to fill
the gap of colonial defence. One of the incentives for colonial volunteers was
the promise of land…
New South Wales was
granted self-government in 1855 and, while British forces continued to garrison
New South Wales for another 15 years, it was decided in London that the
Australian colonies would need to take responsibility for their own defence. In
1854, upon the outbreak of the Crimean War, a local voluntary force, the 1st
Regiment of New South Wales
Rifles, was raised.
A second volunteer regiment was raised in 1860, after the withdrawal of British forces was confirmed. This force consisted of one troop of mounted rifles, three batteries of artillery, and twenty companies of infantry. Two years later more artillery batteries were added. The force was reorganised by the Volunteer Regulation Act of 1867.
The withdrawal of British forces fromNew South Wales
was completed in 1871, and local forces assumed control of the defence of New South Wales . The
forces of New South Wales
were restructured during the 1890s, with new units formed and others disbanded
or merged. With the enactment of Australian federation on 1 January 1901, all
Australian colonial forces, including New
South Wales , were automatically transferred to
Commonwealth control.[13]
A second volunteer regiment was raised in 1860, after the withdrawal of British forces was confirmed. This force consisted of one troop of mounted rifles, three batteries of artillery, and twenty companies of infantry. Two years later more artillery batteries were added. The force was reorganised by the Volunteer Regulation Act of 1867.
The withdrawal of British forces from
Under the
Volunteer Force Regulation Act officers and volunteers were entitled after a
period of five years continuous service, to a free grant of 50 acres of Crown Land .
Many of the men
who received such grants sold their land as soon as they were able in order to
make some money. Others were able to
increase their holdings by purchasing adjacent lands.
We do know the first Crown land grants in the Karabar (Warrimoo) area were
accorded to:
·
Frederick Somers: 31 October 1879 & 1880
·
Alexander Finlayson and William Cope: 1881
·
William Dickson: 2 September 1882
·
William Deane: 14 April 1892[14]
At this stage
it is difficult to ascertain just how these first five Crown Land recipients
got their grants—most likely it would
have been from some form of ‘service’ to the Crown, the British or colonial
government of New South Wales. There has long been the traditional wisdom that
Warrimoo has always held some connection to military service and soldier
settlement.
However, the
exact connection is difficult to trace. Of the above candidates, one of the
most likely to have been a British Serviceman was the first named: Frederick
Pane Hawkins Somers…
Frederick Somers 1836-1889
It is estimated
that Frederick Somers was born in 1836 somewhere in England . In the Census of 1841 a
“John Somers--Yeoman” was registered at Glastonbury
with a son, Frederick. In the following, 1851 Census a Frederick Somers was
counted as a 15 year-old “Scholar-Pupil” under the tutelage of “Henry Howard”,
the “Head” of a school in Acacia
Road , Marylebone (London ).[15]
Possibly Frederick had been sent to London for a formal education—as a small
country farmer/landholder his father may have felt this was the best chance for
his son to build a future.
From 1851 to
1869 there is a hiatus in the records of Fred’s life, because in 1869 he
appeared in Sydney ,
getting married. In the interim a very important event had occurred: the
Crimean War against Tsarist Russia. It is quite feasible that Frederick Somers
had joined the British army as a young (educated) officer and fought in that
war, after which he may have decided to emigrate to Australia to start a new and
prosperous life, though his Land Grant did not occur for some time yet.
The Pub Owner
Whatever the
cause of his migration, it would seem that Fred had settled in Sydney long
enough to woo and marry a midwife by the name of “Annie Maria Bluck” (this
surname sometimes transforming to “Black” or “Pollack”) in 1869.[16]
For a while during this early part of his marriage, he became something of an
investment speculator, stumping up funds for shares in the ‘Victoria Reef Gold
Mining Company’ of Adelong, but forfeiting those shares in 1873 for “…non
payment of calls due…”[17]
Nonetheless the
marriage was an advantageous match for Somers, because the Bluck family owned a
pub in Crown Street ,
Surry Hills, called, of all things, “Bluck’s Hotel”, which Fred’s
father-in-law, James Bluck—who may have been ill and dying--, bestowed upon him
in 1874.[18]
Fred’s management of the hotel proved to be rocky at the outset for he was
hauled before the courts in the same year for allowing the “playing of cards”
on the premises and fined 10 shillings plus costs.[19]
Surry Hills in
the 1870’s was a pretty rough working class neighbourhood but it did not deter
Fred Somers from expansive ambition. In 1876 he applied for a licence to run
“billiards and bagatelles” in the hotel.[20]
Meanwhile his
wife, Annie Maria, was not a well woman. She gave birth to a healthy daughter,
Caroline Maria Hawkins Somers, in 1872, but then four years later, in 1876 her
second child, Daisy Fredericka Hawkins Somers, only survived for a couple of
months.[21]
The midwife mother may well have been distraught by this family tragedy, or she
may have been weakened physically by her labours, for a little over a year
later, in November of 1877, she herself died at the age of 28 years.
Annie Maria’s
death did not deter Fred Somers from running in the Sydney City Council
elections held in December of the same year. He was soundly trounced by 355
votes to 50, which makes one wonder why he bothered to run at all.[22]
Real Estate Agent
By now a
pattern was emerging, not only of an ambitious and opportunistic capitalist,
but one who was unabashedly litigious—he would go to court over the slightest
injury, and was a bloodhound in the quest for personal justice, especially
relating to money.
As well, now
that his wife was dead, Fred Somers’ interests were extending elsewhere and his
connections were becoming more powerful. In an 1878 court case he teamed up
with a certain James Augustin Cunneen, a major ‘Land Agent’ as they were termed
at this time, and a Member of the NSW Parliament, to prosecute a civil case
against one ‘Michael Ward’, a Free Selector who had forfeited his five
selections near Deniliquin because he had allegedly failed to abide by the Act.
Ward sought
help from Somers and Cunneen, who had promised to take his case to the Minister
for Lands, which they did do, and which resulted in Ward regaining most of his
land. However, the dispute centred around the amount owed to Somers and
Cunneen: was it the one hundred pounds that Ward had already paid, or the two
hundred pounds that the two plaintiffs had charged was the verbal contract? In
the event…
His Honour summed up, greatly deprecating that such a state of things
should exist as a member of Parliament being at the same time a land agent,
that being a combination which no right-minded person could approve; yet as it
was not contrary to law, the plaintiffs were not on that account to fail. If the jury believed that the defendant had
agreed to give 200 pounds for the revocation of the forfeitures, which without
doubt had been revoked, the plaintiffs were entitled to succeed. The only question was contract or no
contract, and that altogether depended on the credibility they would give to
the evidence of either side.
Without retiring, the jury returned a verdict for the plaintiffs, with 100
pounds damages.[23]
Now, by 1879, Somers was being listed in
‘Sands Directories’ as a ‘Land Agent’ of ‘Perouse Street , Randwick ’,
not the Licensee of Bluck’s Hotel, Crown Street Surry Hills. He had acquired a
reputation as a ruthless businessman and a determined land purchaser, so that
when he targeted an opponent he generally got his way…
The Karabar (Warrimoo) Land Grants
In 1879 Frederick Somers was in pursuit of
a career in Real Estate. In July of that year the Government Gazette announced
that Somers had “two petitions presented as to certain claims or demands which
he deems himself to have against the government…”[24]
Somers took his claims upon the Minister for Lands here, to the NSW Parliament in Macquarie Street. The Minister at the time of the 'Karabar Grants' was Sir James Hoskins |
What were these “…claims and demands”? Was
Frederick Somers asserting some claim to land owing him from military service
on behalf of the Empire? Had he performed some other service or land deal, for
example on the Lachlan
River , for which he was
owed? Did he have something over the Secretary for Lands, the Hon. James
Hoskins, which was politically embarrassing?
Whatever the reason, it is a wondrous
coincidence that Frederick Pane Hawkins Somers received a 50 acre Crown Land
Grant in October of 1879, the first in this particular part of the Parish of
Magdala in the County of Cook, right next to the newly completed railway line
and a soon-to-be-constructed platform upon it. It was the first Land Grant at
Karabar.
Next year, further ‘…tenders for a run of
Crown Lands at Corrabagul Creek, in the District of Lachlan’ were served on the
government. He won them all, and received yet another 50 acres at Karabar for
his trouble—the future was indeed accumulating for Mr. Fred Somers.[25]
Successful Investor
The 1880’s proved to see an even more rapid
rise for the humble English yeoman’s son. After the death of his mother-in-law,
Mrs Eliza Jane Bluck, in 1880, he married the sister of James Cunneen’s wife,
Elizabeth. His new bride was Mary Ann Hudson and she came from a wealthy family
based in Windsor .[26]
Henceforward Fred would maintain an abiding interest in areas west of Sydney , and he continued
to gather up land whenever or wherever it was available.
Somers had three children by this second
marriage; Frederick Hawkins Henry Hudson Somers (1883); Mary Hudson Somers
(1885); and Charles Etherdell Hudson Somers (1888).[27]
In 1887 the Somers family moved to an even
bigger mansion, ‘Ferndale ’, on the border of Randwick and Coogee.[28]
The Somers name appeared again, several times, in various court matters, one
even involving a criminal case where horses and buggies were stolen from the
family property.
There is some evidence to suggest that by
the end of the 1880’s Frederick Somers’ run of success was petering out. Some
of his valuable belongings were put up for auction, for example.[29]
The boom of previous years was fading and the costs of holding land were
outweighing the benefits—the depression of the 1890’s was looming.
Suddenly, on the 13th September
1889, he was dead. Cause of death was not specified. His body was removed from
his home, Ferndale , on Coogee Bay Road , to the Funeral Depot at
Redfern and thence by train to Windsor
cemetery for burial.[30]
He was 53 years of age. His youngest son was only one year old.
He did not live to profit from the resale
of his Karabar properties. Presumably they were disposed in the ensuing years,
during a downturn in the market, for the liquidation and division of his estate
among his heirs. Most likely the purchaser was Arthur Rickard, another Real
Estate Agent of emerging note…
Edward Reading (1838-1922)
Edward Reading came to possess a 50 acre
block to the south of those held by Frederick Somers and William Pinhey. His
grant covered what was to become Florabella
Street and parts of The Mall. To summarise
Edward’s life, it is probably most apt to draw upon his published Obituary…
At
the age of 84 years, Mr. Edward Reading of Warwick, Edgecliff Road , Woollahra, passed away
yesterday.
The
son of the late Edward Grant Reading, Edward Reading was born in Warwickshire
in 1838. He came to Australia
in 1866 and commenced practice as a Dental Surgeon, being one of the earliest
dentists to practice in Sydney .
For many years, the rooms were in Phillip
Street , but he later moved to Castlereagh Street , near Hunter street , next
to the old Tattersall’s Horse Bazaar. For many years the leading dentist of Sydney , Mr. Reading
retired a few years ago.
He
displayed a keen interest in golf, and was one of the first members of the
Australian Golf Club at Kensington, and in those days, golf used to be played
in what is now Centennial
Park . Mr. Reading was
also a member of the Union Club, but retired some years ago.
Mr.
Reading married Caroline Waddell, daughter of the late Reverend Abraham
Waddell. He leaves five sons and one daughter. Mrs. Reading died in April of
last year. Four of the sons are in Australia ,
and another is in the south island of New Zealand . Miss Reading married
Doctor Howard Mummery, and is now living in England . [31]
Mr. Reading’s sons became leading figures
in Dental Education and the development of Dentistry in Sydney
and Australia .
His wife’s Obituary (she died a year earlier than Edward) reads as follows…
The
death occurred on Wednesday night of Mrs. Caroline Mary Reading, wife of Mr.
Edward Reading, who, prior to his retirement, was one of the earliest dentists
practising in Sydney .
Mrs.
Reading, who was 79 years of age, was born at Long Buckley Northamptonshire,
and came to Australia with her husband in 1867, three years after their
marriage. She was naturally of a benevolent nature and possessed a kindly
disposition. These induced her to devote as much as she could to assisting the
poor and the needy. She was very active some years ago in city mission work,
and also took an interest in the Boys Brigade. As a young woman she was
interested in various charitable movements, but most of her practical work was
performed for the City Mission
and the Boys Brigade when these institutions were in their infancy.
Mrs.
Reading was a regular attendant at the Jersey Road Congregational Church. Of
late years she had necessarily been prevented from taking an active interest in
social and public affairs. About two months ago she became ill, and for a time
her condition was regarded as serious. She rallied again, and it appeared she
would recover, but on Wednesday she suffered from heart seizure and died at
5.30pm.
Of
her six surviving children, Dr. Richard Fairfax Reading, Professor of Dental
Surgery at Sydney
University , is her eldest.
The other sons are: Claude Hill Reading, Managing Director of the British
Australasian Tobacco Company and one of the Managing Directors of the British
Tobacco Company of Australasia Ltd.; Phillip Burdett Reading, practising as a
dental surgeon in Macquarie Street; Arthur Edward Reading, practising as a
dental surgeon at Armidale, New South Wales; and Frank Ernest Reading, a
merchant in Wellington, New Zealand. The one surviving daughter is Mrs. Minnie
Isabel Mummery, wife of Dr. Mummery who, after retiring from the Royal Navy,
started a practice in Australia ,
but afterwards went to England .
A
short service will be held at the Jersey-Road Congregational Church at a
quarter to ten this morning, and the funeral will leave the church for the
South Head cemetery at about 10 am. [32]
These Death Notices combined, give us a
golden insight into the roles and manners of the Australian ruling class of the
latter nineteenth century, and the positions of those who now assumed ownership
of the rugged acres around ‘Platform Karabar’.
Edmund Edmonds Smith[33]
Land holder of the block….This gentleman
held an important position in a shipping and coal merchants’ firm called ‘Wm
Howard Smith and Sons’. He was one of the sons. This may be relevant because a
certain developer of later years, Arthur Rickard, was a director of a shipping
company also.
William Hamnett Pinhey (1848-1948) [34]
A Carefully Structured Upbringing
It is highly unlikely that William Hamnett
Pinhey ever served in any military force, but it is clear from the outset he
was a pillar of the fledgling Sydney
community. He was born a ‘currency lad’, which meant he did not migrate from Britain , but was born in Sydney , at Glebe, in 1848, although his
grandfather, Dr. William Townley Pinhey, had served in the Royal Navy.
He was first publicly mentioned when 14
years of age, in 1862. Being a candidate for a ‘proper’ upbringing, William was
placed under the tutelage of the Reverend John Pendrill of Glebe Point, who
engaged his students in constructive Christian activities such as charitable
works. It would appear that hardships were being suffered by workers in nearby
districts—“Manufacturing Districts”-- which led the boys of Rev.
Pendrill’s class to raise funds for their assistance. It was William Pinhey who
led the contribution with a donation of ten shillings.[35]
Clearly William was being groomed for a lifetime in philanthropy and finance.
In the following year, at the age of
fifteen, William appeared as the “Chairman” of a Glebe branch of supporters for
the very upright and conservative politician, the Honorable Mr. Thomas Ware
Smart, Esq.[36]
William H. Pinhey as a young man |
William H. Pinhey was growing up just as
his father intended: everything was mapped out for him, including his
investments. He appears next as a co-director of the ‘King of Denmark Gold
Mining Company’, along with his father, William Towney Pinhey, and six others. He was an auditor and investor,
already, at the ripe old age of 24.
At some point in the next few years William
accepted a position as Manager of the Commercial Banking Company (C.B.C.) in Tamworth , which he held until 1883. It was during this
time that he came across the 50 acre block at Karabar.
Pinhey’s Block at Karabar/Richardson and Wrench
It would appear unlikely that W.H. Pinhey
received a simple Crown “grant” at this time—after all, he was a person who
clearly had the wherewithal to purchase such a block without too much trouble.
More probably he had been tipped off about a possible platform at Karabar, and
that a block nearby might be a very canny investment. In short, his motive was more
than likely speculation on development.
Laura A. Fitzstubbs, future wife of William H. Pinhey, aged four and a half |
At the time of Richardson
and Wrench’s release of the ‘Karabar Estate’—April 1882—Pinhey had been married
to the very respectable Laura A.
Pinhey (nee Fitzstubbs) for six years and had fathered two children, Eustace
and Rosina, while living and working at the Commercial Bank in Tamworth .[37]
Laura Pinhey, in her classically Victorian wedding dress, on her wedding day in 1876, and... |
At this stage it is unclear whether Pinhey had sold his 50 acres toRichardson
and Wrench, or whether they were simply agents operating on his behalf.
Whatever the case, it would seem that the deal was something of a watershed in
William’s life, because he subsequently resigned his position as Bank Manager,
(receiving, as his parting gift, “a purse containing 100 sovereigns” for his
service to the Bank and his retirement from it), then opened up a “Land
Agent’s” office in King Street Sydney the following year (1883). The
advertisement in the Sydney Morning Herald
offered loans for purchase of “city or suburban property”.[38]
Perhaps now William Hamnett Pinhey was seeking something more than the stifling
banking straightjacket prescribed by his father?
At this stage it is unclear whether Pinhey had sold his 50 acres to
Was it possible for a man in Pinhey’s
position to operate as both ‘Land Agent’ and Bank employee? One would have to
think not, so we must therefore conclude that William’s foray into real estate
was less than successful, for in 1887 he was back in the Commercial Bank’s headquarters
in Sydney as
one of its “Inspectors”.[39]
W. H. Pinhey’s Subsequent Roller-Coaster Life:
1890-1948
Whatever the success of William Pinhey’s
Karabar subdivision, he now confronted the great depression and bank collapses
of the 1890’s. The CBC, despite being subsidiary to a larger English home
office, must still have suffered extreme pressure as banks all around fell like
ninepins. Employees like William might well have had to tighten their belts…
In 1903 an ad. proclaiming a “clean out”
sale at the Pinheys home pointed to the family moving out of their residence in
Strathfield to go elsewhere. Was it a step up or a step down?[40]
Notwithstanding, the Pinheys must have been
lifted by the anticipated success of their only daughter, Rosina, or Rosini, who
by 1906 was gaining accolades as a performing artiste:
Miss Rosini Pinhey, the
young Sydney singer, who made a successful debut at the Opera House in
Ventimialia, Italy, in Verdi's opera, "La Traviata" this week, is the
only daughter of Mr. W. H. Pinhey, one of the inspectors of the Commercial
Banking Company, Sydney. She went to Paris about four years
ago to study under Madame Marchesi, who predicted a great future for her. Early
this year Miss Pinhey proceeded to Italy ,
and received instruction from Caruso, at Florence .
The young lady's professional name (says
the Melbourne "Herald") is Rosine Sydna.[41]
A youthful Rosinha Pinhey |
The indomitable 'Madame Marchese', operatic instructress extraordinaire. She showed the young chanteuse the glories of Europe and prepared her for the stage |
Interesting that Rosina’s chosen
‘professional’ name was “Sydna”, a pretty clear salute to Melbourne ’s rising star, Nellie Melba. The
fame of the latter, however, came to shine far more brightly over time than her
Sydney
contemporary. Could the Pinheys have been dismayed by this?
During the Great War (1914-1918) a truly dreadful
tragedy befell the family…
William and Laura's youngest son, Roydon Hoadley Pinhey, who struck out to Rockhampton to build his own career... |
MISSING
PRIVATE R. PINHEY.
Private Roy Pinhey,
younger son of W. H. Pinhey, of the Commercial Banking Company of Sydney , has been officially reported as missing since July
29 last, in France . He served also at Gallipoli, and was in the
evacuation. Prior to enlisting he was connected with the Rockhampton branch of
Dalgety and Company.[42]
Roydon Hoadley Pinhey in the uniform of the AIF, prior to embarkation. He survived Gallipoli, but was blown to bits on the battlefield of Pozieres in 1916 |
The Pinheys youngest son (the third child
of the family), Roydon Hoadley Pinhey, who struck out to Queensland to make his
own career at Rockhampton, had enlisted in the enthusiasm of the early months
of the war, and who had survived Gallipoli, met his end (“disappeared”) on the
battlefield of Pozieres in France. This must have been a staggering blow to
William Pinhey: his structured life was not supposed to encompass this.
After the war William appears to have again
left the C.B.C. and taken a position as factory Manager in a modern dairy processing
works at the head of the Manning
River , near Taree.[43]
In 1927 he lost his younger brother, John, who had remained loyal to the bank
throughout his life, but who had apparently paid the price of a stressful
career.[44]. His final, elder son, Eustace, died in service in London in 1945, during World War II.
William H. Pinhey photographed in later life, taking tea in the garden. He was the epitome of the successful Australian bourgeois, but he died alone in 1948, at 100 years of age, his family all gone |
To culminate a topsy-turvy working life,
Pinhey was obliged to auction off investment land at Blacktown after the collapse of the Real
Estate market during the Great Depression.[45]
It was a fire-sale and probably signaled the end of his financial career. By
now (1932), he was 84 years of age, and had earnt his place in the sun. He died
in 1948, a life that had spanned 100 years.
1882—Release of the ‘Karabar Estate’[46]
As previously mentioned, in 1882 the Real
Estate firm of Richardson and Wrench, one of the
largest in Sydney
at the time, released a brand new sub-division at ‘Karabar’, where a railway
platform and waiting-shed had already been constructed. Most likely, the
company was operating as agent for Mr. William H. Pinhey, seeking to make a
‘killing’ from the sale of some 127 blocks at a price of about 10-20 pounds
each.
At this time, most of the other ‘Mountains
‘stations’ had already been settled. Springwood was a thriving ‘well-to-do’
stopover with a substantial shopping centre,
banks, post-office and hotels, and with some relatively large rural
properties about. ‘Blue
Mountain ’ (Lawson) was an
important railway depot and home to more than 200 railway workers. Each of Katoomba,
Blackheath and Mount
Victoria held their own
claims for exotic ‘Mountain-climbing’ weekend tourism. Thus, ‘Karabar’ aimed to
be a shorter, newer, more accessible and less expensive Mountains Retreat.
Whether or not the developers were entirely
clear as to the object of their offering is not certain. Maybe that would
become its problem. Was it to be predominantly a ‘weekender’ outpost, offering
swift train transport to and from, but with ‘roughing it’ little cabins for
temporary stays only, or was it rather an affordable chance to settle and build
sturdy homesteads for long-term family residence?
Map of the first 'Karabar Estate'. Note the position of the 'Platform' (station) at the western side of The Avenue, and two 'gates' allowing the Great Western Highway to cross the railroad [47] |
Examining the subdivision map, you will
notice ‘Karabar’ platform is directly at the end of The Avenue. There is a
‘gate’ where the Great Western
Highway crosses the railway, presumably opened by
a gatekeeper living nearby. There were several such crossings between Warrimoo
and Faulconbrodge.
You would also note that The Boulevarde is
in a straight parallel line to The Avenue, and that Victoria and Albert Streets
run for two blocks, like Arthur
Street does today, not one. All this was to change
when Arthur Rickard took over the subdivision.
In the meantime ‘Karabar Estate’ withered
on the vine. It is uncertain how many blocks were sold, but the evidence points
to ‘not many’. In many respects the release could not have come at a worse
time. For the next five years, NSW would experience terrible drought, which in
turn may well have brought on bushfire in the Lower Mountains. Already the
‘Boom Years’ of the post gold-rush era were becoming flakey and uncertain.
International markets were faltering. The loss of confidence that was to create
the major depression of the 1890’s was beginning to take root and in December
of 1898, the Karabar Platform was closed down due to ‘lack of patronage’.
It seemed that this particular speculative
township was going to be short-lived. Perhaps it would revert to bushland,
although there is evidence to suggest that this very bushland held a valuable
resource…
Other stories allude to timbergetters and
orchardists setting up within reach of Karabar station[49],
but the presence of such industries is really only certain around the period of
the First World War onwards.
First White Settlers?
Researching this question opens a real can
of worms. Some clues, such as the discovery of an alleged ‘Still’ (distillery)
on the grounds of Warrimoo Public School point to 19th century
bootleggers making moonshine for railway workers[48].
But did they live in the vicinity?
We do know that there was a ‘platform’ at
Karabar, opened in October 1881[50].
We also know that a gate was adjacent to the platform to safely close off road
traffic when trains came through. There was also a signal box and switches
which would’ve had to have been supervised and operated, and nearby tracks
required maintenance[51].
Certainly, someone had to live nearby
to carry out these duties.
‘Warrimoo Historians’ are therefore
suggesting, based on the hard evidence thus far available, that a young couple
employed by the NSW railways, Thomas and Mary Smiley, were the first white residents
to have settled in ‘Karabar’, probably in the 1880’s or 90’s.
According to immigration records[52],
Thomas Smiley was an English ‘Farm Laborer’ who arrived in New South Wales in 1886. His most likely aim
was to gain land or get a job as a railway navvy or both. In the ‘Mountains he
hit the jackpot.
Immigration Record 1886--Thomas Smiley is the fourth entry from the top. Note that he is English, 27 years of age, and single. |
Thomas met and married a young woman whose
family lived in Burns Road Springwood, Mary Lockley. Both of them were able to
secure railway jobs, and, presumably accommodation at Karabar, where they
appear to have stayed for some considerable time. They were soon raising a
family there.
Electoral records of the area[53]
are proof of their residency: a list of the electors for the newly formed Federal
(‘Commonwealth’) seat of ‘Parramatta ’ (which
covered the whole of western Sydney
and lower Mountains) provide the names and township addresses of voters in the
‘Springwood’ district. These figures for the early part of the 20th
century make no mention of ‘Warrimoo’ residents, because, as yet, it didn’t
exist.
While there are 274 people at Glenbrook, 88
at Blaxland and 724 at Springwood, part of the latter’s resident-count
incorporated places like ‘North Springwood’, ‘Bee Farm’, ‘Valley Heights’ and…’Karabar’. Only two
people are registered as electors at ‘Karabar’, and they were ‘Thomas
Smiley…Fettler’ and ‘Mary Smiley…Railway Gate-keeper’.[54]
Of course, we must be careful with an
assumption based upon electoral records. Compulsory enrolment for voting in
Federal elections did not occur till 1912, so it is possible that other people
living in Karabar had not registered to do so. Nevertheless, it is important to
note the Australian nation had been swept by a wave of nationalism after the
achievement of ‘Federation’ in 1901, followed by the passage of the ‘Franchise
Act’ of 1902, making the 1903 elections one of the first globally to extend the
right to vote to all women. Mary Smiley had voluntarily taken up that right.
This photograph[55]
is surely one of the most spectacular in the BMCC collection. It shows the
Smileys with Mary’s brother, Bill Lockley, and one of the great characters of
the district, ‘Springwood Jacky’, all holding a captured Diamond Python. Costume
indicates the date of the picture is late 19th—early 20th
Century, and the location could be anywhere between the Lockley property on Burns Road to the
Smileys’ place at Karabar.
‘Springwood Jacky’ was not a ‘local’ man
(Darug or Gundungarra), but rather came from either Queensland or Rylstone. He once proposed to
the famous Penrith identity, ‘Black Nellie’, but she refused him on the grounds
that he was of the wrong lineage for a Darug woman . When he arrived in the
district he was certainly working on a farm in Emu Plains but in the mid 1880’s
drifted up to Valley
Heights to live alone, in
a bark hut, by his wits.
Jacky often worked as a handyman for Mrs.
Georgina Burns, who owned ‘Wyoming ’, the
imposing property that had once served as the old ‘Welcome Inn’ at Sun Valley . Renowned as an expert bushman, athlete,
tracker, and horse-breaker, it was probably Jacky who had tracked and caught
the snake. He could be seen every Sunday outside the Frazer Memorial
Church in Springwood,
singing and dancing as an entertainment for the congregation. In 1913, he was
found dead under a log at Valley
Heights and buried in
unconsecrated grounds.[56]
It is clear from the picture that the group
are readily familiar with each other. After all, their homes were all quite
close to one another, and they must have seen each other regularly. At left
Jacky, who was self-conscious of a skin disease that gave him white blotches
around his neck, wears his habitual ‘necker-chief’ and looks across at Bill
Lockley, the star of the show in his white clothes, braces and bowler hat.
There is a young boy, presumably a relative of the Lockley family and a dog (a
‘Jack Russell’?), which may have had a part to play in the adventure. Mary
stands nursing her baby, close to her brother on her right, with husband Tom
looking a little awkward as the more formal English fettler, more a gentleman
than the boisterous, knockabout currency bloke with his trophy.
Same day, same location, but minus Mary and child. By the way Bill Lockley is holding the python, it is still alive (Photo courtesy of BMCC 'Images Collection) |
The second photograph is taken on the same
day, minus Mary and the baby. The way Bill is holding the python suggests it is
still alive. They are standing on someone’s property (‘Yelkcol’?—‘Lockley’
backwards, the name of the Lockley property on the corner of Macquarie and
Burns Roads, Springwood--)[57]
because we can see the fence behind them, in front of half-cleared bush. Tom
looks even less comfortable here than in the first photo!
It is appropriate, is it not, that
Warrimoo’s first non-indigenous settlers should have been a young couple
building a family--both public servants with responsible, worthy, long-term
jobs, both conscious of their mutual roles as democratic citizens, and both
clearly taking pleasure in their bushland surrounds with an original
Australian, though without the overt bigotry frequently in currency at the
time.
By 1900
‘Karabar’ was still a fairly nondescript place. ‘Warrimoo Historians’
have found little evidence of settled activity in the area around the Platform,
except for the work of Tom and Mary Smiley.
The bicycle guide mentions no shops,
stopovers or dwellings near the road at Karabar. The area remained
predominantly bushland with limited clearance and seemingly no noticeable
population.
At the turn of the century, ‘Warrimoo’ was
a place waiting to happen.
Karabar/Warrimoo in 1900
'Derring Do' bicycling at the turn of the century. With 'auto mobiles' out of reach for ordinary working people, bicycling was the most popular means of taking a pleasant weekend excursion |
In his worthy booklet entitled Sun Valley and Long Angle Gully—A History,
Bruce Cameron[58] reveals
that ‘…Indications would suggest there was activity in Long Angle Gully and Sun Valley from around the late 1800’s…’ He was referring
to loggers who may have been felling timber from the beautiful ‘Mountain Blue
Gum’ (Eucalyptus Deanei),’Cabbage Gum’ (Eucalyptus Amplifolia) and ‘Turpentine’
(Syncarpia Glomulifaria) in the vicinity north and east of the railway.
Timber-getters at rest. Evidence of their work is all about Warrimoo and Long Angle Gully: gigantic stumps, tracks and old mill equipment are there to find if you look hard enough |
There is much evidence of logging still
around Warrimoo, Long Angle Gully and Sun Valley ,
and there may have been some lots of the Karabar Estate that were cleared at
this time, if only to provide wood/fuel for cooking and heating, or to provide
timber for buildings or poles.
There were probably at least a few
weekender cabins erected on the Karabar blocks, and of course, the railway and
western (Bathurst )
road always provided a central focus. The “Cyclists Guide to the Roads of New
South Wales (1898)” provides a picture of what it was like…
After
passing Blaxland Station the road is level, passing through railway gates
(there was a level crossing opposite ‘Michelangelo’s Restaurant’before the
present bridge was built) and rising gradually. A long and fairly steep hill
with a steep descent to railway gates at Karabar (near the intersection with
The Avenue). The road becomes loose and sandy after crossing the line, still
downhill, up a fairly long hill (toward Torwood Road), then level for about
half a mile, again passing through railway gates (where the subway and
Gatekeeper’s cottage are at Greens Parade) and then fairly level through about
200 yards of heavy sand. The surface now improves and again the road passes
through railway gates at Valley
Heights (where the road
bridge crosses the rail line near the present signal box).[59]
[1] LUPTON, Maisie et al, Warrimoo Public School, The First Twenty-Five Years, magazine published by Warrimoo Public School Anniversary Committee, 1987, p.11
[2] GAMMAGE, Bill, The Biggest Estate on Earth: How Aborigines Made Australia . Allen and Unwin, Sydney , 2011
[3] LEAFLET and website: http:www.bluemountainstourismaboriginalhistory
[5] NSW Railways Crossing the Blue Mountains http://wwwmasoniclibrary.org.au/index.php?...
[25] SMH, Friday 4 June and Saturday 5 June 1880, p.3 (NLA)
[31] National Library of Australia,
http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article15992534
[33] RICHARDSON, E., and MATTHEW, K., op. cit. Brisbane Courier Mail, Tuesday July 8th, 1873,
page 3
[34] Ibid. All research done in this biography carried out
by the authors mentioned earlier, Evelyn Richardson
and Kate Matthew.
[47] RICHARDSON, E. and MATTHEW, K, Warrimoo History Project, 2010—‘Images’
[48] Ibid—assisted by John Low--Article, Blue Mountains Gazette, 15-4-1987: ‘Whiskey Still discovered at Warrimoo School ’
[55] Ibid., Image Library, PF 2301B www.bmccc.nsw.gov.au.yourcommunitylibrary donated by Mrs. Lees, Springwood Jacky with the Smileys and Snake
[56] Ibid., The information found in these paragraphs on ‘Springwood Jacky’ are derived from the text supplied by John Low accompanying the photograph found in the Flikr section of the Image Library referenced above
[57] Ibid., Information relating to the Lockley family supplied by Springwood Library’s resident local historian, John Merriman
58] CAMERON B.,Sun Valley and Long Angle Gully—A History, Springwood, 1998, p21
58] CAMERON B.,
[59] LUPTON, Maisie et al, Warrimoo Public School, The First Twenty-Five Years, magazine published by Warrimoo Public School Anniversary
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