Discoveries In The Interior 1817-1836
Oxley. After the passage over the Blue Mountains had been
discovered--in 1813--and the beautiful pasture land round Bathurst had
been opened up to the enterprise of the squatters, it was natural that
the colonists should desire to know something of the nature and
capabilities of the land which stretched away to the west. In 1817 they
sent Mr. Oxley, the Surveyor-General, to explore the country towards the
interior, di
ecting him to follow the course of the Lachlan and discover
the ultimate "fate," as they called it, of its waters. Taking with him a
small party, he set out from the settled districts on the Macquarie, and
for many days walked along the banks of the Lachlan, through undulating
districts of woodland and rich meadow. But, after a time, the explorers
could perceive that they were gradually entering upon a region of
totally different aspect; the ground was growing less and less hilly;
the tall mountain trees were giving place to stunted shrubs; and the
fresh green of the grassy slopes was disappearing. At length they
emerged on a great plain, filled with dreary swamps, which stretched as
far as the eye could reach, like one vast dismal sea of waving reeds.
Into this forbidding region they penetrated, forcing their way through
the tangled reeds and over weary miles of oozy mud, into which they sank
almost to the knees at every step. Ere long they had to abandon this
effort to follow the Lachlan throughout its course; they therefore
retraced their steps, and, striking to the south, succeeded in going
round the great swamp which had opposed their progress. Again they
followed the course of the river for some distance, entering, as they
journeyed, into regions of still greater desolation; but again they were
forced to desist by a second swamp of the same kind. The Lachlan here
seemed to lose itself in interminable marshes, and as no trace could be
found of its further course, Oxley concluded that they had reached the
end of the river. As he looked around on the dreary expanse, he
pronounced the country to be "for ever uninhabitable"; and, on his
return to Bathurst, he reported that, in this direction at least, there
was no opening for enterprise. The Lachlan, he said, flows into an
extensive region of swamps, which are perhaps only the margin of a great
inland sea.
Oxley was afterwards sent to explore the course of the Macquarie River,
but was as little successful in this as in his former effort. The river
flowed into a wide marsh, some thirty or forty miles long, and he was
forced to abandon his purpose; he started for the eastern coast, crossed
the New England Range, and descended the long woodland slopes to the
sea, discovering on his way the river Hastings.
Allan Cunningham. Several important discoveries were effected by an
enthusiastic botanist named Allan Cunningham, who, in his search for new
plants, succeeded in opening up country which had been previously
unknown. In 1825 he found a passage over the Liverpool Range, through a
wild and picturesque gap, which he called the Pandora Pass; and on the
other side of the mountains he discovered the fine pastoral lands of the
Liverpool Plains and the Darling Downs, which are watered by three
branches of the Upper Darling--the Peel, the Gwydir, and the Dumaresq.
The squatters were quick to take advantage of these discoveries; and,
after a year or two, this district was covered with great flocks of
sheep. It was here that the Australian Agricultural Company formed their
great stations already referred to.
Hume and Hovell. The southern coasts of the district now called
Victoria had been carefully explored by Flinders and other sailors, but
the country which lay behind these coasts was quite unknown. In 1824
Governor Brisbane suggested a novel plan of exploration; he proposed to
land a party of convicts at Wilson's Promontory, with instructions to
work their way through the interior to Sydney, where they would receive
their freedom. The charge of the party was offered to Hamilton Hume, a
young native of the colony, and a most expert and intrepid bushman. He
was of an energetic and determined, though somewhat domineering
disposition, and was anxious to distinguish himself in the work of
exploration. He declined to undertake the expedition in the manner
proposed by Governor Brisbane, but offered to conduct a party of
convicts from Sydney to the southern coasts. A sea-captain named Hovell
asked permission to accompany him. With these two as leaders, and six
convict servants to make up the party, they set out from Lake George,
carrying their provisions in two carts, drawn by teams of oxen. As soon
as they met the Murrumbidgee their troubles commenced; the river was so
broad and swift that it was difficult to see how they could carry their
goods across. Hume covered the carts with tarpaulin, so as to make them
serve as punts. Then he swam across the river, carrying the end of a
rope between his teeth; and with this he pulled over the loaded punts.
The men and oxen then swam across, and once more pushed forward. But the
country through which they had now to pass was so rough and woody that
they were obliged to abandon their carts and load the oxen with their
provisions. They journeyed on, through hilly country, beneath the shades
of deep and far-spreading forests; to their left they sometimes caught a
glimpse of the snow-capped peaks of the Australian Alps, and at length
they reached the banks of a clear and rapid stream, which they called
the Hume, but which is now known as the Murray. Their carts being no
longer available, they had to construct boats of wicker-work and cover
them with tarpaulin. Having crossed the river, they entered the lightly
timbered slopes to the north of Victoria, and holding their course
south-west, they discovered first the river Ovens, and then a splendid
stream which they called the Hovell, now known as the Goulburn. Their
great object, however, was to reach the ocean, and every morning when
they left their camping-place they were sustained by the hope of coming,
before evening, in view of the open sea. But day after day passed,
without any prospect of a termination to their journey. Hume and Hovell,
seeing a high peak at some little distance, left the rest of the party
to themselves for a few days, and with incredible labour ascended the
mountain, in the expectation of beholding from its summit the great
Southern Ocean in the distance. Nothing was to be seen, however, but the
waving tops of gum trees rising ridge after ridge away to the south.
Wearily they retraced their steps to the place where the others were
encamped. They called this peak Mount Disappointment. Having altered the
direction of their course a little, in a few days they were rejoiced by
the sight of a great expanse of water. Passing through country which
they declared to resemble, in its freshness and beauty, the well-kept
park of an English nobleman, they reached a bay, which the natives
called Geelong. Here a dispute took place between the leaders, Hovell
asserting that the sheet of water before them was Western Port, Hume
that it was Port Phillip. Hume expressed the utmost contempt for
Hovell's ignorance; Hovell retorted with sarcasms on Hume's dogmatism
and conceit; and the rest of the journey was embittered by so great an
amount of ill-feeling that the two explorers were never again on
friendly terms. Hume's careful and sagacious observations of the route
by which they had come enabled him to lead the party rapidly and safely
back to Sydney, where the leaders were rewarded with grants of land and
the convicts with tickets-of-leave.
Captain Sturt. The long drought which occurred between 1826 and 1828
suggested to Governor Darling the idea that, as the swamps which had
impeded Oxley's progress would be then dried up, the exploration of the
river Macquarie would not present the same difficulties as formerly. The
charge of organising an expedition was given to Captain Sturt, who was
to be accompanied by Hume, with a party of two soldiers and eight
convicts. They carried with them portable boats; but when they reached
the Macquarie they found its waters so low as to be incapable of
floating them properly. Trudging on foot along the banks of the river
they reached the place where Oxley had turned back. It was no longer a
marsh; but, with the intense heat, the clay beneath their feet was baked
and hard; there was the same dreary stretch of reeds, now withered and
yellow under the glare of the sun. Sturt endeavoured to penetrate this
solitude, but the physical exertion of pushing their way through the
reeds was too great for them. If they paused to rest, they were almost
suffocated in the hot and pestilent air; the only sound they could hear
was the distant booming of the bittern, and a feeling of the most lonely
wretchedness pervaded the scene. At length they were glad to leave this
dismal region and strike to the west through a flat and monotonous
district where the shells and claws of crayfish told of frequent
inundations. Through this plain there flowed a river, which Sturt called
the Darling, in honour of the Governor. They followed this river for
about ninety miles, and then took their way back to Sydney, Sturt being
now able to prove that the belief in the existence of a great inland sea
was erroneous.
The Murray. In 1829, along with a naturalist named Macleay, Sturt
was again sent out to explore the interior, and on this occasion carried
his portable boats to the Murrumbidgee, on which he embarked his party
of eight convicts. They rowed with a will, and soon took the boat down
the river beyond its junction with the Lachlan. The stream then became
narrow, a thick growth of overhanging trees shut out the light from
above, while, beneath, the rushing waters bore them swiftly over
dangerous snags and through whirling rapids, until they were suddenly
shot out into the broad surface of a noble stream which flowed gently
over its smooth bed of sand and pebbles. This river they called the
Murray; but it was afterwards found to be only the lower portion of the
stream which had been crossed by Hume and Hovell several years before.
Sturt's manner of journeying was to row from sunrise to sunset, then
land on the banks of the river and encamp for the night. This exposed
the party to some dangers from the suspicious natives, who often
mustered in crowds of several hundreds; but Sturt's kindly manner and
pleasant smile always converted them into friends, so that the worst
mishap he had to record was the loss of his frying-pan and other
utensils, together with some provisions, which were stolen by the blacks
in the dead of night. After twilight the little encampment was often
swarming with dark figures; but Sturt joined in their sports, and
Macleay especially became a great favourite with them by singing comic
songs, at which the dusky crowds roared with laughter. The natives are
generally good-humoured, if properly managed; and throughout Sturt's
trip the white men and the blacks contrived to spend a very friendly
and sociable time together.
After following the Murray for about two hundred miles below the Lachlan
they reached a place where a large river flowed from the north into the
Murray. This was the mouth of the river Darling, which Sturt himself had
previously discovered and named. He now turned his boat into it, in
order to examine it for a short distance; but after they had rowed a
mile or two they came to a fence of stakes, which the natives had
stretched across the river for the purpose of catching fish. Rather than
break the fence, and so destroy the labours of the blacks, Sturt turned
to sail back. The natives had been concealed on the shore to watch the
motions of the white men, and seeing their considerate conduct, they
came forth upon the bank and gave a loud shout of satisfaction. The
party in the boat unfurled the British flag, and answered with three
hearty cheers, as they slowly drifted down with the current. This humane
disposition was characteristic of Captain Sturt, who, in after life, was
able to say that he had never--either directly or indirectly--caused the
death of a black fellow.
When they again entered on the Murray they were carried gently by the
current--first to the west, then to the south; and, as they went onward,
they found the river grow deeper and wider, until it spread into a broad
sheet of water, which they called Lake Alexandrina, after the name of
our present Queen, who was then the Princess Alexandrina Victoria. On
crossing this lake they found the passage to the ocean blocked up by a
great bar of sand, and were forced to turn their boat round and face the
current, with the prospect of a toilsome journey of a thousand miles
before they could reach home. They had to work hard at their oars, Sturt
taking his turn like the rest. At length they entered the Murrumbidgee;
but their food was now failing, and the labour of pulling against the
stream was proving too great for the men, whose limbs began to grow
feeble and emaciated. Day by day they struggled on, swinging more and
more wearily at their oars, their eyes glassy and sunken with hunger and
toil, and their minds beginning to wander as the intense heat of the
midsummer sun struck on their heads. One man became insane; the others
frequently lay down, declaring that they could not row another stroke,
and were quite willing to die. Sturt animated them, and, with enormous
exertions, he succeeded in bringing the party to the settled districts,
where they were safe. They had made known the greatest river of
Australia and traversed one thousand miles of unknown country, so that
this expedition was by far the most important that had yet been made
into the interior; and Sturt, by land, with Flinders, by sea, stands
first on the roll of Australian discoverers.
Mitchell. The next traveller who sought to fill up the blank map of
Australia was Major Mitchell. Having offered, in 1831, to conduct an
expedition to the north-west, he set out with fifteen convicts and
reached the Upper Darling; but two of his men, who had been left behind
to bring up provisions, were speared by the blacks, and the stores
plundered. This disaster forced the company soon after to return. In
1835, when the major renewed his search, he was again unfortunate. The
botanist of the party, Richard Cunningham, brother of the Allan
Cunningham already mentioned, was treacherously killed by the natives;
and, finally, the determined hostility of the blacks brought the
expedition to an ignominious close.
In 1836 Major Mitchell undertook an expedition to the south, and in this
he was much more successful. Taking with him a party of twenty-five
convicts, he followed the Lachlan to its junction with the Murrumbidgee.
Here he stayed for a short time to explore the neighbouring country; but
the party was attacked by hordes of natives, some of whom were shot. The
major then crossed the Murray; and, from a mountain top in the Lodden
district, he looked forth on a land which he declared to be like the
Garden of Eden. On all sides rich expanses of woodland and grassy plains
stretched away to the horizon, watered by abundant streams. They then
passed along the slopes of the Grampians and discovered the river
Glenelg, on which they embarked in the boats which they had carried with
them. The scenery along this stream was magnificent; luxurious festoons
of creepers hung from the banks, trailing downwards in the eddying
current, and partly concealing the most lovely grottos which the current
had wrought out of the pure white banks of limestone. The river wound
round abrupt hills and through verdant valleys, which made the latter
part of their journey to the sea most agreeable and refreshing. Being
stopped by the bar at the mouth of the Glenelg, they followed the shore
for a short distance eastward, and then turned towards home. Portland
Bay now lay on their right, and Mitchell made an excursion to explore
it. What was his surprise to see a neat cottage on the shore, with a
small schooner in front of it at anchor in the bay. This was the lonely
dwelling of the brothers Henty, who had crossed from Tasmania and
founded a whaling station at Portland Bay. On Mitchell's return he had a
glorious view from the summit of Mount Macedon, and what he saw induced
him, on his return to Sydney, to give to the country the name "Australia
Felix". As a reward for his important services he received a vote of one
thousand pounds from the Council at Sydney, and he was shortly
afterwards knighted; so that he is now known as Sir Thomas Mitchell.