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'South Australia in its Early Days - Colonial Life and Christian Experience' by Henry Hussey

The following article was extracted from the above publication, and then edited and annotated by Reg Butler (Hahndorf Historian). This copy was obtained from Reg's unpublished computer working files.

South Australia in its Early Days

On July 16th, 1839, we anchored in Holdfast Bay, and preparations were made for landing.  The members of our family, excepting myself, went ashore a day or two after we anchored, but I was left on board to look after the luggage and goods brought out, upwards of twenty cases and packages.  The landing at Glenelg was no easy matter, as there was no jetty nor any convenience of this kind.  The boats had to be kept out of the surf, and the passengers carried by the sailors through it. It was said that if the carriers had a grudge against any that required their services, this method of landing afforded a fine opportunity to gratify their displeasure; by letting the unfortunate one down in the water; accidentally, of course, though done intentionally.  Some Aborigines, whose encampment was at the back of the sandhills, were on the beach to welcome the new-comers; and what was generally asked for by them was baccy and bicketty....

In order to land the luggage and goods brought out by the passengers, bullock-drays were taken into the water sufficiently far to enable the contents of the boats to be discharged into them.

Though the Bay was little more than six miles from the City, it took the greater part of the day for a bullock-dray to load up and reach its destination.  There was no properly-defined road, and as there were no fences in the way, the bullock-drivers could go as they pleased, with the exception of keeping in the track indicated by the removal of the trees in the line of route.

The weather at the time of our arrival was cold and frosty, and the shelter of a house of any kind, if procurable, was necessary for my mother in the delicate state of her health.  Dr Mayo knew that it would be difficult to obtain accommodation in the embryo city, and kindly used his influence to get us a room in Emigration Square for a few days...

The Square was situated on the Park Lands, west of Hindley Street.  The buildings then constituting the Square were of wood, and each house consisted of two rooms, divided by a three-quarter partition of the same material.  The family in the adjoining room to ours brought out a rooster and two or three hens, and lest we should indulge too long in our slumbers, chanticleer commenced to crow in the early morn, delighted no doubt, with being once again on terra firma.  There were twenty or more of these houses forming the Square, but only one of two, used for special purposes, had a fireplace.

I had to turn out in the morning and light a fire, the fuel consisting of green bushes brought by the Aborigines; and my task was not by any means an easy one.  It was well that I was assisted by a pair of bellows ... because I not only had to blow the fire, but to blow my fingers now and again to keep them sufficiently warm to blow the fire. ...

For some time after our arrival there was no restriction placed upon the natives lopping off the limbs of the gum and other trees for the purpose of firewood; and the ingenious way in which they climbed up large trees is worthy of mention.  One of the short pieces of hard wood they carried about with them was sharpened at one end in the shape of a wedge.  With this instrument, they first made an incision in the bark sufficiently large to place the great toe in, and then reaching up they thrust the wedge into the bark, giving them something to hold on by till they made another incision for the foot.  This process was repeated again and again till they reached the branches, and as they had no saws to cut off what they wanted, they borrowed these necessary tools from the new-comers by whom they were engaged to supply fuel.  Long after wood was carted to town for sale the natives proffered their services to cut it up for a small consideration ...

Not only wood, but water was necessary, and as there was none in the Square but what was brought there, I will briefly describe how it was obtained for our use; others I suppose adopted a similar method.  At each end of a small barrel a screw was inserted, and a line being fastened on to the screw, the barrel was trundled down to the River Torrens, the bung taken out, the barrel filled, and then brought back in the same way.  In the city, the water was supplied by carts specially constructed for its carriage; and when brought, was placed in casks at the front or back door of the dwellings, whichever was most convenient.  The water was not very pure when delivered, and it did not improve with keeping; tadpoles and other living creatures increasing and multiplying as time permitted.

The water carts were driven into the river and backed against a tree lying lengthwise across the stream, where the water was deep; the said tree being cut away on top to afford a footing.  The the water was dipped up with buckets into the large barrels on wheels that were to convey it to customers in town, at a charge of three shillings per load in Hindley Street, and more in streets further back.  This precious fluid was usually strained through muslin or something of that kind, and boiled before being used for drinking purposes.  This impure water was the cause of many cases of dysentery in the early days of the Colony, and my father was one of the victims to this disease.  The Thames water supplied on board ship was bad enough at times during the voyage, but, strange to say, after undergoing the process of fermentation, it became sweeter and better.  This could not be said of the Torrens water, which, after standing some time in the casks, exposed to heat and dust and flies, was scarcely fit for human beings to drink.

After staying a few days in Emigration Square, we removed to a wooden house at the eastern end of North Terrace, which had been occupied by Captain Sandford, who was removing a few miles into the country.  Before giving some idea of the East-end of Adelaide at this time, I will briefly describe the West-end, which was the business quarter of the City in these early days.  To the north of Emigration Square there was a row of shanties known as Coromandel Row, named after the Coromandel, which arrived some time before us. ...  Near to the Square and near the western end of North Terrace there were several squatters, who had erected tents and other dwelling-places of a temporary character.  Some were located on the banks of the Torrens, and some even found shelter in large hollow trees, with canvas or curtains to enlarge their habitation.

Ascending the rising ground from the Square, the top of Hindley Street was reached, and from this elevation there was a good view of the habitable part of the city, the greater part being uninhabited at this time.  Wooden buildings, constructed of weatherboard and broad palings, were the order of the day; and there was quite a number of these from the top of Hindley Street as far as Leigh Street.  One Lazarus, a Jew, had a large store at the corner of Hindley and Morphett Streets; and at this emporium almost all kinds of goods could be procured.  One prominent building not far from Morphett Street was that occupied by Mr R Thomas, proprietor of the South Australian Register.  The grass growing on the vacant unfenced land, with trees here and there, rendered the landscape in the distance pleasing to the eye.

At the upper part of North Terrace there was the first Congregational Chapel, a very unpretentious structure, 40 ‘ x 20’, with a thatched roof and calico for windows; and not far from this, the first Theatre, built of wood ...  Trinity Church, a stone structure, had taken the place of the wooden one erected under the supervision and with the assistance of the Colonial Chaplain, the Rev’d CB Howard.  Calico, in the openings for windows, was doing duty for glass, as it did in many other instances; and though the erections would not bear comparison with those in England, new-comers who came out expecting to find the early settlers living in a semi-barbarous state were agreeably surprised to see the progress made in such a short space of time.

On the Park Lands, opposite the upper part of North Terrace, nearly all the Government Offices were located, mostly built of wood; and lower down was the South Australian School, conducted by Mr JB Shepherdson; and lower down still the Police Office - both structures built of wood.  Government House was situated near the site of the present Government Stables; and the latter at the present time might be considered a mansion compared with the first vice-regal residence.  The sailors of HMS Buffalo largely assisted in the erection of the first structure, and, as the weather was very warm at the time, it was not considered necessary to build any chimneys; so the cooking had to be done in an out-building erected for the purpose.  The first vice-regal residence was destroyed by fire at the beginning of 1841 ...  In consequence of this fire, and the one at Colonel Light’s residence, many valuable documents connected with the early history of the Colony were destroyed.

Proceeding down Rundle Street to reach our temporary residence at the eastern end of North Terrace, a difficulty presented itself.  The street was not very well defined, and there were only a few buildings erected; but one was in course of erection that raised the difficulty.  On the site of the York Hotel, a cellar was being excavated for a boarding-house for Miss Bathgate, and the soil and clay were deposited in the street.  The rains had fallen upon this deposit, and as it was softened by this means, pedestrians had to wade through something worse than mud ...

At this time, the roadway and footpaths in Hindley and Rundle Streets not being made, they were in a worse state by the traffic passing over them than other less frequented parts of the City.  Hindley Street, especially, was in a very bad condition after a heavy fall of rain, bullocks in some places sinking up to their knees and the drays up to the axles.  At the bottom of Rosina Street, there was quite a deep hole, almost dangerous to pedestrians and equestrians.  As story was told, the truth of which I cannot vouch for, that on one occasion, a man was seen in the aforesaid deep hole, and being questioned as to why he remained there, his answer was that he was sitting on his horse, and that his horse was underneath him!  This hole was supplied, after a heavy downpour, with more than sufficient to fill it, and the overflow took the liberty of passing through some of the business premises on the north side of the street on its way to North Terrace.  Another rush of water from Light Square came down Morphett Street, and this watercourse was known as Paddy’s River, after the City Surveyor, Mr (afterwards Sir) GS Kingston, who had the water-table widened and deepened to carry off the flood water.

Bad as the two main streets were, there were greater dangers to be encountered in going to the southern parts of the city, after dark, in consequence of the uprooting of the large gum-trees, and the cattle that roamed about as they pleased.  There was the risk of falling over the trees that had been felled, of tumbling into the holes out of which the roots had been grubbed; and of stumbling against a bullock or cow, unless the breathing of the animal was sufficiently loud to give a note of warning.  At the junction of Grenfell and King William Streets a capacious tent was erected, surrounded with an enclosure for a cow and other domestic animals - a veritable farm on a small scale in the heart of the city.  South Terrace was of course much nearer to the centre of traffic than the South Pole, but only a few had ventured to take up their abode in that far-off locality. ...

The upper part of Currie Street could boast of a number of shops and dwellings of a primitive order, and at the bottom of Grenfell Street there still stands, at the time of writing these records, a Manning house, built of wood, which will give a correct idea of the better kind of houses erected fifty or sixty years ago.  This old relic was the residence of Mr (afterwards the Hon) W Peacock, and not long since was offered for sale by the Trustees of the Peacock Estate.  A few of the early structures may still be seen at the upper end of Hindley and Currie Streets, but they are gradually disappearing.

When more substantial materials than wood became the order of the day in the erection of shops and dwellings, mention should be made of what was then known as pise; and also of the man who gave an impetus to the erection of buildings of this kind, who was known as Pisé Nicholls.  The word is of French origin, and signifies walls built of earth, or mud, placed in a mould, much the same as concrete; which latter was also largely used in the early days of the colony for building purposes.  Some straw mixed with the earth or mud bound it together, and when dried by the heat of the sun, it was similar to sun-burnt brick.  One great objection to pisé was that it harboured insects, and in this respect concrete was much superior.  When it was found that the clay at Hindmarsh and thereabouts would make first-rate bricks, there was an extensive manufacture of them, and they gradually supplanted wood, pisé and concrete.

For roofing purposes, shingles and broad palings were extensively used; and these in the first instance were imported from Tasmania, or Van Diemen’s Land, as it was then called.  After a time, some splitters came over from that colony, and finding that the timber in the Mount Lofty Ranges was suitable for the purpose, they commenced operations there.  Mr (afterwards the Hon) PB Coglin, was among the early splitters that came over, and doing very well in this line, he was in a position to erect two or three shops in Hindley Street, one of which, consisting of two apartments, my mother rented from him at thirty shillings per week.

It would be some time in August that we removed to Hindley Street, our new premises being a little to the west of Rosina Street.  One of the two rooms had a shop window, and the other was divided off with a curtain to serve for bedroom and living room.  There was a calico ceiling, which kept some of the dust coming through the paling roof from descending upon all below.  The opening of the shop was an event of importance, and my mother, who was treasurer, had to consider the question of ways and means. ...

Impressed with the fact that ... the new-comers in Emigration Square would be pleased to get some soft tack, as the sailors called it, she invested in bread, and learning that Mr Thomas, the printer, had brought out a hand-truck, which could be hired at one shilling per hour, I was dispatched to obtain the use of this two-wheeler.  I was entrusted with the command of the expedition, with instructions to sell or barter the bread to the best of my ability; and I was not to bring it back unless absolutely necessary.  I was the shaft-horse, and my brother (who was afterwards a baker in King William Street) was to push behind.  The venture turned out a good and profitable one, and I was sent again and again after I had opened up the trade.  Dozen after dozen of bread was disposed of, not only in the Square, but in the Hindley Street establishment. ...  Surplus stores saved by the emigrants, such as rice, split peas, sago etc, were bartered for bread; and this gave variety to the stores supplied at the new establishment. ...

I may as well give a brief description of the landing-place at the Old Port.  It was situated two or three miles up-stream above the present Port, and could boast of a canal for boats and something like a wharf for the reception of passengers and goods. The wharf was formed by the silt taken out of the ditch, and at high-tides there was danger of goods being damaged. Boats heavily laden could only reach this place when the tide was high, and as these boats had to be rowed or towed several miles from where the ships were lying, delay in reaching the wharf was frequently experienced.

It was not infrequently the case that the goods placed on the wharf were exposed for several days to the weather, as well as to the high-tides; which of course paid no respect to their nature or value.  Their removal was a tedious process, as the bullock-drays could only take about half a load through the sandhills, and after unloading that, come back for the other half.  Dotted here and there on the sand were a few wooden buildings, one of which was a place dignified with the name of the Customs House.  One or two public-houses were also located there, a few offices for agents, and a few dwelling-places.  From the foregoing, the risk and expense attending the landing and carting of goods from the Old Port to the City of Adelaide may be imagined. ...

Various Occupations

Though not at the funeral [of Colonel Light], I was present at the removal of the leaden coffin, containing his remains, from the West Terrace Cemetery to their last resting-place under the monument erected to his memory in Light Square.  It was generally considered that though this gentleman did not meet with any accident to cause his early death, he came to an untimely end mainly through the worry and annoyance of those who wanted to have the capital of the Colony in some other locality.  After years, however, proved the soundness of his judgement in the selection he had made ....

After a few months’ residence at the wooden shanty, we removed to a much better house and shop near the Club House in Hindley Street, my mother still keeping to some extent to the provision line.  Among other edibles she found that the spiced beef which she prepared was much relished, and there was a good demand for it.  At the rear of the shop was a bakehouse, and here, Mr Selth made small goods, cooked dinners etc.  The baking business was extended to Rundle Street, and as there was a bakehouse, I was stationed at the branch establishment to cook dinners and do what I could in the small goods line.  I had picked up a little knowledge at the head-quarters in Hindley Street, and was able to make Bath cakes, rocks, brandy-snaps, ginger nuts, lollies etc.  This branch was not a success, but probably with an abler hand at the helm, it might have prospered.

For a short time, I tried my hand at selling fruit, of which there was not a large supply at this early period.  Cape gooseberries, tomatoes, water and sweet melons, and figs were among the first that were grown; and the supply being limited, I could scarcely expect to do a large business.  The shop was situated in Rundle Street, somewhere about where Messrs ES Wigg & Sons’s premises now stand ...

Among other miscellaneous undertakings, my father entered in a small way into the business of land surveying, land agent, auctioneering etc.  I sometimes took part in the surveying business by holding the main for him; and on one occasion, he actually placed me in possession of a place as bailiff, in a case of distress for rent.  The place was none other than the Theatre on North Terrace, the first of the kind, so far as I know, in the Colony.  Mr Buckingham was the lessee, or manager, or both; and I suppose the public did not accord him sufficient support in his attempt to provide their entertainment.  The building was of wood, but as far as I recollect, the floor of the pit was of mother earth; and in this department, there were some forms or benches.  The artist had made the interior decorations fairly presentable by candle-light, but with the light of day, the whole affair had a very unimposing appearance. ...

Deprived of this source of amusement, I suppose the public found some compensation in attending the night auction that was held in Hindley Street where the facetious John Bentham Neales entertained them with offering all kinds of merchandise, surplus ships’ stores, rifles, pistols, allotments of land etc.  This knight of the hammer had purchased a section of land, which was laid out into about a thousand small allotments; and it was then, as now, known as the township of Islington.  A number of these town allotments found purchasers at the night auction, and as there was something like a land boom on, the more sanguine of the new-comers considered this was a good investment.  Not far from Islington, my father laid out and surveyed a block of land belonging to Mr John Bowden, and, after selling some of these, he purchased the unsold allotments.  Many years afterwards, there was not only the difficulty of finding out where the land was, but where the purchasers were, some of them having left the Colony.  I persevered, however, and at length, after due notice, bought the interest of those who could produce their titles; and then brought the land under the Real Property Act.

A new Theatre called the Queen’s was opened in January 1841, with Mr J Lazar as Manager, and Mr Buckingham in charge of the dresses and decorations. ...  The Queen’s Theatre was situated in Gilles Arcade, off Currie Street; was erected by Mr E Solomon; and was an imposing building.  It is rather remarkable that the Jews took such a leading part in the affairs of the City at this early period.  There was not only Mr Solomon, but Mr Lazar, Mr Lazarus, Mr Levi, and others of that fraternity.

In the early part of 1840, my services were required to take charge of a potato-stall in the first Adelaide Market, which was situated at the corner of Rundle Street and Gawler Place, somewhere in the locality of Birks’ chemist shop.  Though not of great extent, the shops were well built of brick, and for a time, the Market was well patronised; but I suppose the commercial ruin that overtook the colony in 1841 caused a great falling-off.  In course of time, the Market had to give place to other buildings which were erected on its site; and for many years afterwards, Adelaide was without a market of any kind.

I took another turn at the bread trade after I had done with selling potatoes, this second occasion being on a much larger scale than the trade I had opened up in Emigration Square.  Mr John Stuckey had commenced business as a baker in Rundle Street, on the acre the north-west corner of which is known as Waterhouse Corner.  At this corner, there stood for years after a noble gum tree, forming an agreeable shade in summer; a few yards further east was the baker’s shop, and at the rear of the acre the stables etc.  At this early period, bread was delivered by means of a horse and cart in Adelaide and to the scattered dwelling-places around. Mr Stuckey was an enterprising tradesman, and as horses were not easily procurable in the Colony, he imported two good animals from the neighbouring Colony, one of which cost him £60.

He had a nephew who delivered the bread, but this young man wanted some employment of a more exciting nature than driving a bread-cart.  Having made up his mind to go to New Zealand to face, and, if need be, to fight the Maories, he gave his uncle notice that he intended to leave.  I accepted the vacant billet, and the young gentleman was to go round with me and show me where to find the customers. ...

We were bound for Hindmarsh, and in those early days, people drove about very much where they pleased.  Up and down the gullies we went, helter-skelter, without any brakes; and when a favourable opportunity presented itself, my guide drove the cart over a stack of wood, and over it went; he was lying under the cart, was roaring with laughter; but though I only received a shaking, I considered it altogether too serious a matter for a joke.  The bread was lying all about, and after the cart was lifted, we gathered up ourselves and then gathered up the bread.  The thing was done so well, and with so much skill, that there was not much damage done to the cart, to the horse, or to ourselves. ...

Besides Hindmarsh, my round extended to North Adelaide and Kensington; Kent Town, Norwood, and Stepney not being in existence at that time.  Between the East Park Lands and Kensington there was a forest of wattle trees, the only house being the residence of Dr Kent, built of wood.  Kent Town was named after the Doctor, who owned the section afterwards laid out as a township, and on part of the land he erected a steam flourmill in 1840, near to where the Kent Town Brewery now stands.  Another flourmill was erected at an early period by the South Australian Company, near the Company’s Bridge on the Hackney Road.  Mr Bailey, who had a nursery near Hackney, London, laid out a nursery at a very early period in the history of the Colony, which was known as Bailey’s Garden; and he added the name Hackney, by which the locality is now known.

After being engaged for a few weeks in the delivery of bread, I was taken unwell, and had to relinquish the work for a time.  I had previously had an attack of intermittent or colonial fever, and I suppose this was really a relapse.  While I was laid up, or rather down, the flour market was in a very unsatisfactory state; and the supply, such as it was, was limited.  It had to be imported from America and other places, and some of it was scarcely fit for human consumption.  That from America was brought in barrels - some of it stale and so matted together that it had to be pounded up and passed through a sieve.  This was not the most objectionable feature, as in some cases, the weevils had found their way into the barrels or had bred there.  ... I did not get up my strength very rapidly, and had again to retire for a time from regular employment.

My next situation was in a general store in King William Street kept by Mrs Watts, whose husband was a bricklayer, and a first-class workman in that line.  They came out in the Asia, and having no family they made plenty of money; and took care of what they made.  The wife made and cleaned straw bonnets, and supervised the store, in which I not only served customers, but did a little in the manufacturing line.  I made treacle, by boiling down dark sugar; and made yeast to raise bread by a process of fermentation.  A number of fowls were kept, and the eggs they laid were a decided source of profit and added to the trade of the store.  After a time, Mr Watts purchased a pony and cart, which added to his income; and finding there was a demand for vehicles on hire, he kept on buying horses and traps till he had quite an extensive establishment.  The locality was the acre on the corner of King William and Currie Streets, where the Bank of Adelaide and adjoining offices now stand.  Mr Watts was not only the possessor of this valuable acre in Adelaide, but purchased other properties in the suburbs; and eventually retired from business and returned to England.

Finding that Messrs Flett & Linklater were in want of an assistant, I applied for and obtained the situation, which I considered was an advance on the store in King William Street.  This establishment, which was one of the best in Adelaide, was situated on the north side of Hindley Street, not far from Morphett Street; and the shop having two windows, one was devoted to drapery and clothing, and the other to grocery.  Here I was to sleep on the premises, with one of the partners, the two taking it in turns week about.  The reason for this arrangement was that, in a shop they occupied in Currie Street, built of wood, they had been robbed of £40 or £50 worth of cloth; and they determined they would not run the risk of another loss of this kind.  About this time, the colony was favoured with several visitors from Van Diemen’s Land, some of whom had served their apprenticeship in the old country to thieving, and they thought there was more scope for their talents in South Australia than in the place where they were so well known.  It was supposed that one or more of these clever scoundrels took out a panel from the shop in Currie Street and by this means obtained unlawful possession of the cloth.

My duties in Hindley Street were of a varied character, such as sweeping out the shop, cleaning windows, grinding pepper, roasting and grinding coffee, serving customers etc.  My employers resided in a row of houses near Gouger Street, known as Craigie’s Buildings, in front of which was a well for the use of the householders.  Our meals were brought to the shop, and were supplied week about by the wives of the partners; in fact, the whole arrangement was as perfect and equitable as it could well be under the circumstances.  The Sundays were spent alternately with the two families, and I went to the same kirk as they both attended, which was a wooden building in Angas Street, used as a schoolroom during the week and as a place of worship on Lord’s-days.  Here, the Rev’d Ralph Drummond (the first Presbyterian minister in the colony) officiated in the dual capacity of minister and schoolmaster.  I rather liked his ministrations ...

After closing the shop in the evening, we made up our beds on the two counters, and as these were rather narrow, I am surprised that we did not roll off occasionally; but I do not think either of us had a fall.  I rather preferred the week when it was Mr Linklater’s turn to sleep at the shop, as he entertained me with stories of his adventures in the Orkney Islands.  Mr Flett was like a father to me and gave me some excellent fatherly advice ...

During the latter part of the time I was at Flett & Linklater’s, I sometimes walked down to the Port, after the shop was closed, to see my parents, who had removed there.  It was rather a long and lonely walk, and when I was nearing home, I occasionally found that the tide was so high that I had to walk a considerable distance through water, at places up to my waist.  At this time, many of the inhabitants of the Port had some novel experiences of during extraordinary high tides.  One of these in particular occurred at the opening of St Paul’s Church.  I happened to be at the Port that Sunday, when there was one of these high tides; and instead of attending the service, I was watching the rising waters.  To provide for such a contingency, a raised path or embankment was made, reaching from the North Parade to the Church; and when the congregation assembled, there was no sign of a flood.  As was usual on these occasions, there was a strong wind from the west, and, as it was cold, the front door was closed during the service.  I watched the water rising higher and higher, until it covered the embankment; and by the time the service was over, it was entirely lost to view.  Imagine the surprise of the people when the door was opened at finding themselves surrounded by water, and with no immediate prospect of being able to reach their homes.  Captain Lipson, the Harbour-master, kindly helped the congregation out of this difficulty by sending boats to enable them to reach their habitations.

One Sunday, while I was at the Port, I witnessed a very exciting scene which took place on the McLaren Wharf.  A French vessel called the Ville de Bordeaux had called at Port Adelaide, and the Collector of Customs, Mr (afterwards Sir) RR Torrens, did not find her papers altogether satisfactory.  While her case was under consideration, the vessel sailed, which confirmed the suspicion that all was not quite right.  A small steamer, the Courier, has arrived fro England a short time previously, and her services were called into requisition to give chase to the absconder.  It was a decided case of emergency, and as a sufficient supply of coals was not available, shingles, palings, and any wood that was on the wharf, were placed on board to do duty us fuel.  With a body of police, armed to the teeth, and the redoubtable Collector, the little steamer went down the Gulf in search of the suspicious stranger; and having found her, she was brought back.  This gallant capture cost the Government a few thousands of pounds, which had to be paid to the owners for what was deemed an illegal seizure; but what was that compared with the display of bravery that it called forth?  After lying for some time in the stream at the Port, the vessel was used as a light-ship, to guard mariners against the dangers that were in the vicinity of the outer anchorage.

I shall now go back in my narrative to give some particulars of the opening of the New Port, and the removal of my parents to that place.  Wednesday, 14 October, 1840, was a gala-day in South Australia; and those who went to the opening of its chief harbour are not likely to forget it.  The day began most auspiciously, with a clear sky, and the sun shining down with sufficient warmth to make an outing pleasant.  Every available vehicle and every available horse was called into requisition; and, it might be added, bullocks and drays into the bargain.  The conveyances, numbering 750, ranged from a pony cart to the Young Queen (the first coach of which the Colony could boast; and besides these, there were some 500 or 600 pedestrians. ...

The South Australian Company, to whom it might be said the property belonged, had spent large sums of money in constructing the causeway over the swamp from near Alberton to the Port, in making the McLaren Wharf, and in erecting substantial warehouses thereon.  If I remember rightly, the barque Guiana, of which Captain Duff was commander, was the vessel that was to have the honour of first unloading some cargo on the wharf.  The Governor (Colonel Gawler) took a leading part in the opening ceremony, which was followed by a banquet in the new warehouse.  As may be supposed, there was plenty of eating, and drinking, and speechifying.  Those at the banquet and those who were not, all appeared to enjoy the privilege of being present on this important occasion.

As the day wore on, some ominous clouds began to arise in the west, and a sudden change of wind about three or four o’clock in the afternoon, threatened to spoil the day’s enjoyment.  The wind increased, and preparations were made for the return journey; but as the coach Young Queen, which was in the van, proved too heavy for the newly-made road, the highway was blocked for a considerable time.  Some of the conveyances attempted to get through under the sheds on the Queen’s Wharf, and those without covers succeeded; but the trap driven by my father was stopped.

I returned to town in the waggon, and as we drove along the causeway, with the water on each side of us, the sight was as novel and sensational as could well be imagined.  Parasols, umbrellas, hats and bonnets, were carried by the gusts of wind far and wide; and as it was useless to attempt to regain possession of them, the drivers of the vehicles proceeded on their way as though beating a retreat from some powerful enemy.  It was well that the Port Road was a very wide one, though there were disadvantages on account of its width.  No part of it was macadamised, and as one line of traffic was worn into holes, drivers struck out into another one, till that was in a similar condition; therefore, in the course of time, a strong westerly brickfielder had command of a very wide surface.  On the occasion referred to the clouds of dust were such as only to allow a glimpse now and again of the vehicles en route.  It was a marvel to me, and probably to many more, that there were so few accidents, especially as the River Torrens had to be crossed without any bridge.  There was a cutting leading down to the ford on the river, and it was no easy matter after dark, without any lamps as helps or guides to see just where the cutting was.  The contrast between the setting-out and the return on this memorable day, was as great as could be imagined or described. ...

The communication between the Port and the City was effected mainly by means of spring-carts, with two and sometimes three horses, driven tandem-fashion.  These carts were provided with three seats, supposed to hold four persons on each; and the jolting, when heavily laden, can easily be imagined.  I have frequently done the journey on foot, and many others did the same - not only to save expense, but because the vehicular accommodation was limited.  I have known my mother, who was a weakly woman, ride to town, do her business there, and then walk down to the Port; but she had an indomitable spirit, which often taxed her physical powers to the very utmost. ...

Commercial Failures and Disasters

When the tide of commercial calamities of 1841 set in, consequent on the dishonouring of Colonel Gawler’s bills drawn on the Home Government, merchants, tradesmen, and all classes of the community were seriously affected by the unexpected event.  There was a kind of panic, which threatened to paralyse every department of trade and commerce, and scarcely anyone knew what to do under the circumstances.  Like most others, I had to suffer in a small degree, for my employers had to economise, so dispensed with my services, giving me, on leaving, a testimonial signifying their satisfaction with them. ...

It appears that there was a very wide divergence of opinion between the Governor and the Commissioners as to what really constituted cases of ‘emergency’; and shortly after the first clap of thunder, intimating that the bills were dishonoured, came the second, announcing that His Excellency had been recalled and his successor appointed.  The storm of commercial ruin burst upon us, the bubble of prosperity collapsed; and the whole machinery of the Colony was suddenly brought to a comparative standstill.  Merchants and tradesmen failed, mechanics had to lay down their tools, and labourers to cease their labours.  A number who had sufficient capital took ship and cleared out, mostly for New Zealand; while others, who had determined to defraud their creditors, if possible, made a bolt in any vessel that would take them away, not exactly as stowaways, but as deck or ‘tween-deck passengers.  One of the vessels that took away several who managed to make their escape was a fast-sailing brig, named the Dorset, and she had conferred upon her the further designation of the bolters’ clipper. ...

In a short space of time, Hindley Street, which had been the principal place of business, was well-nigh forsaken; and I can remember the time when, in walking along the street, scarcely a passer-by was to be seen.  Among those who remained there was one Mr Bulpitt, a well-known tradesman, who stuck to his post; and could generally be seen at the shop-door, looking up and down the street for customers.  At the time I refer to, there was a lady, an heiress, who drove a carriage; and this was something rare, as I do not think the Governor could boast of such a conveyance.  Colonel Gawler had a pony or two, for the use of his children; but there was no carriage-and-pair, or even a one-horse chaise.  The Rev’d CB Howard imported an Irish jaunting-car, but this of Mrs James’s was a real four-wheeled carriage - a landau, or something of that kind. ...

Another sight in Hindley Street occasionally was the person of Captain Ferguson, an officer of the Mounted Volunteer Cavalry, in full uniform, on a black charger.  He was the admiration of all who had a taste for military display, and especially of the small fry.  His position was merely a representative one, as it would be difficult to find the main force that he was supposed to command.  The earliest attempt to raise a volunteer corps was by no means a successful one, with the exception of affording material for a few good jokes.  The chief failure was that there were more officers than men ...

In those early days, there came from one of the convict settlements a very remarkable woman, who was accustomed to walk up and down Hindley Street and announce herself as Isabella Anderson, but who became commonly known as Scotch Bella.  She was in the habit of imbibing strong drink too freely, and when under the influence of liquor made considerable use of her tongue.  One one occasion, she did not steer quite clear of some citizens standing in the street, and rubbing against one of them he addressed her in an indignant tone with, Get away, woman! She retorted, in a haughty, contemptuous style, Get away, man! adding, I know I have been a boom passenger, and so have you; just pull up your trousers, and the marks of the irons will be seen. ...  As the reader may not understand what was meant by a boom passenger, I will explain.  When the convicts were brought on deck for an airing, their legs were chained to the spare booms on deck, and this gave rise to the designation mentioned.

One of the celebrities of Hindley Street in the early days was Mr Joseph Ind, who was a large grower of watermelons.  With a bullock-dray load of these he took up a good position in the street and announced that they could be purchased at 1d per pound; and if the weather was hot and oppressive, he found a ready sale for them.  Mr Ind really conferred a boon upon the citizens in supplying them with this substitute for drink at such a reasonable price; and probably kept many from resorting to the public-house to quench their thirst.  Mr Ind, on his arrival in the Colony, became one of the squatters on the Park Lands, and planted a garden on the banks of the Torrens, near the ford.  Like others who had settled down on land for which they had no title, he received notice to quit, without compensation.  On the site of his garden, there sprang up a lot of Scotch thistles, and some were unkind enough to say that he planted these to spite the Government.

On the arrival of an emigrant ship, the new-comers, as soon as they could, came up to have a look at the capital of the Colony, and not knowing whether they would need to protect themselves against the natives, they carried their muskets or rifles with them.  These companies of armed men afforded no small amusement to the shopkeepers of Hindley Street, who were pleased with anything that would enliven the prevailing dullness.  Besides, they had the prospect of doing business with them, if they had brought a little spare cash into the bankrupt Colony. ...

The Aborigines did not forsake Adelaide in its misfortunes, but rallied at times in great numbers on the North Parklands.  Not far from the Gaol, on the opposite side of the river, was what was called the Native Location, where Messrs Teichelmann and Schürmann, missionaries from Dresden, resided. Mr (afterwards the Hon) GF Angas, the principal founder of the Colony, assisted in sending out these missionaries, as well as hundreds of persecuted Lutherans from Germany.  Some sheds were put up by the Government to shelter such of the natives as chose to avail their own wurlies, constructed of boughs and branches of trees.  As horses and cattle, when grazing, do not face a cold wind or storm, so the natives constructed their dwellings in such a way that they were protected from prevailing cold winds and rain.  Opposite the opening of their wurlies was a fire, kept constantly burning, and when travelling or going about at night they usually carried with them a lighted stick.  Besides enabling them to kindle a fire when needed, they had an idea that fire would act as a charm, and preserve them from an evil spirit that they imagined might do them harm.  They had a strange idea about the white people who had come amongst them, supposing them to be resurrected blacks ...

At certain times and seasons the tribes of natives from various parts of the Colony congregated in great numbers on the North Park Lands.  The special time for gathering was 24 May (the Queen’s Birthday); and they showed their loyalty by accepting an invitation to partake of Her Majesty’s bounty, or what the Government provided for the occasion.  They were marched in regular order, marshalled by Mr M Moorhouse, Protector of Aborigines, from the Park Lands to somewhere near Government House.  As they passed by the provision baskets the attendants handed to each of them a piece of bread-and-beef, and after a careful survey of the allotment, they usually passed an opinion about it; sometimes favourable and sometimes otherwise.  I have seen about a thousand attend this levée, men, women and children; and in addition to the bread-and-meat, those who were scantily-clothed received a new blanket, which was highly prized.  While the procession was passing along, it was very amusing to see the picaninnies peeping out of the nets in which they were carried on their mothers’ backs.  From the encampment, the natives would pay their respects to the citizens of Adelaide.  They were not above asking for certain contributions of money and provisions, and were willing to do a small amount of work in return for what they received.  In addition to white money (silver) and black money (Copper), they would ask for bread, bullocky or baccy; and the request was politely put, with an intimation that, if complied with, Me say, you bery good white fellow (or lubra, if a woman).

The new moon was the time for their corroboree or native dance, and on these occasions they decorated themselves with ochre; and with spears, waddies, and shields in their hands, presented a very grotesque appearance.  While dancing they uttered a peculiar whirr or burr in which they kept excellent time, the women beating with their hands a bag of sand or earth, producing a dull sound.  This thud of the women was, I suppose, intended as a kind of bass to the shrill sound uttered by the men.  Both the scene and the sound were weird, and from North Terrace presented a striking contrast to the whistle of the engines and the rumble of the trains, as they pass out of the Adelaide Railway station at the present time for all parts of the Colony.

It was found that after the feasts, the natives belonging to different tribes frequently indulged in a fight, arising out of tribal antagonism.  On these occasions the mounted troopers had to interfere; and, after breaking the spears, they proceeded to disperse the natives, who received orders to return to the places whence they had come.  To prevent these conflicts, which sometimes were attended with fatal consequences, the Royal bounty has been given latterly in the localities to which the tribes belonged.

The question may be asked: What has become of the descendants of those who were thus wont to assemble in such large numbers?  The answer is a melancholy one.  Some of the tribes have been extinct for many years; and the only ones that have survived are those which dwell on the banks of the River Murray and plains adjacent thereto.  There are some pure Aborigines and a number of half-castes still to be found in the native institutions at Point McLeay and Yorke Peninsula and but for these there would probably be very few living at the present time, except in the interior of the Colony. ...

Mention has been made of the Germans who were assisted by Mr GF Angas to emigrate to this Colony, and they are worthy of more than a passing notice.  They proved to be some of the most sober and industrious that migrated hither; in fact, we should have fared badly had it not been for their coming amongst us.  From their gardens at Klemzig, near to Walkerville, they brought us vegetables on their backs; firewood in their German waggons; and supplied us with other domestic necessaries.  Their women undertook the washing for families, carrying the clothes to and fro on their backs..  One who washed for us was called Little Mangley, because, being asked if she could mangle as well as wash, she made that reply; and we concluded that, as she had no mangle, she, and perhaps her husband, sat on the clothes as a substitute for the proper machine.  These women no only carried heavy loads to and from their village, but even from Hahndorf and Balhannah.  They were truly hard-working, and not only laboured in the fields at harvest-time, but were said to have been seen yoked-up with a bullock ploughing the land.

Mention was made in the Governor’s despatch of bushrangers and we were troubled with a number of these in the early days of the Colony, as well as with cattle-stealers.  There were several places where these marauders could carry on their nefarious practices, and there were suitable hiding places for them - especially in the Tiers in the Mount Lofty Ranges.  A gang of cattle-stealers located itself in the Black Forest, and it was some time before the police could break it up.  Of course, if there were no receivers of stolen property, there would not be so many thieves; and it was concluded that there were some tradesmen in the City who were not over-scrupulous as to how the dealers in carcasses became possessed of them.  Inspectors Tolmer and Alford distinguished themselves in the capture of some of the most notorious of the bushrangers, and great credit was accorded them for so doing.

When the Governor found that he could not draw further upon the Commissioners, he decided, as it was a case of pressing emergency, to draw upon the Lords of the Treasury.  He must either do this, or stop the greater part of the machinery of Government, which would involve the Colony in something worse than even commercial ruin.  The money advanced by the Imperial Treasury, as a temporary means of relief, brought the Colony into debt to the Home Government; and, as there was little prospect of re-payment, the Colony ultimately became a dependency of the Crown.  The original colonisation scheme was regarded as a failure, and a new order of things was inaugurated; and with it a new Governor.  The same vessel that brought out the recall of Colonel Gawler also conveyed Captain (now Sir George) Grey as his successor.

The new Governor entirely reversed the policy pursued by his predecessor, and retrenchment in every department became the order of the day.  Public works were stopped as far as practicable, and workmen who had been receiving 10s or 12s per day had to take half that amount or less, or nothing.  Captain Grey’s position was a painful one, but it was something like that of a man with a diseased limb, who must either suffer permanent pain or undergo a severe operation.  The new Governor became a target for all kinds of abuse, aimed by all sorts and conditions of men.  He not only had to put up with all manner of offensive epithets that were applied to him, but there were even threats of personal violence.  He considered it necessary to have a military guard, and this request was quickly granted under the circumstances.  A detachment of troops came over from New South Wales, a sentry-box was constructed, and was taken to the gate at the entrance to the domain on a Sunday morning.

Public meetings were held at various places, at which very strong language was indulged in; but a wordy warfare alone never broke any bones, and he survived all the attacks of this kind.  I remember a meeting held on a vacant acre at the corner of King William Street and North Terrace, and while the storm of words was at its height, His Excellency came out of the domain on his way to the Council Chamber of North Terrace.  This afforded a fine opportunity for the speaker who was addressing the meeting to say something loudly enough for the Governor to hear in passing, which was anything but complimentary to Her Majesty’s representative.  I was present at another meeting held in the Queen’s Theatre, at which it was suggested that the Governor should be placed on board a vessel and set back to England.

Having glanced at the causes which led to the great depression in 1841, I shall resume my personal narrative.  In August of this year, I entered the service of Mr George Dehane, who was the printer and publisher of the Adelaide Independent and Cabinet of Amusement. ...  The place where this paper was printed and published was in Morphett Street.  The walls were of pise or mud, with earth for its floor, and a thatched roof,  The proprietor of this establishment was not what is called a stuck-up man, or one who would stand on his dignity.  He was not above taking a glass with his employees, and would even condescend to see who was to pay for it, by throwing em quadrats, or printer’s dice.  While quite genial when in a good humour, he was a terror when his temper was ruffled; and when he came into the office with a pale face, and began to pick up types which had been dropped on the floor, we knew there was something wrong.

My work at first was that which usually devolved upon the printer’s devil, such as sweeping-out the place, rolling formes of type, flying or taking off the sheets as printed etc.  To this was added posting bills and selling newspapers - work which is now done by other hands.  As news-runner, I had to visit the Gaol, and as the debtors’ department was well filled, I found several customers there; for, notwithstanding their inability to pay their creditors, they could find money to purchase newspapers.  I was surprised to see them living as though in fairly comfortable circumstances; and one in particular, Mr Robert Lyon Milne, who had been a bogus bank-manager, had a well-furnished room, with reading desk and other conveniences.  Ashton’s Hotel, as it was styled, was well patronised at this time, and as the lodgers suffered little beyond a curtailment of their personal liberty, many of these debtors were really better off than their poor creditors.

The office staff at the time referred to consisted of three or four men, and about the same number of boys.  Two of the hands came from London, and had acquired a considerable knowledge of life in the world’s metropolis, which they were quite willing to communicate to me, that was not calculated in any way to improve my morals.  Another employee, a colonial youth, was not far behind the Londoners; in fact, in course of time, he shot ahead of them and ultimately became a gaol-bird.  There was an elderly man in the office who had resided for some time in Van Diemen’s Land, whose ancestors had been extraordinary on the gallows.  It was said that his own life was only spared because printers were scarce, and his services could not well be dispensed with. ...

We took our meals in the kitchen, and here there was a step-ladder leading up to the loft used as our dormitory.  The other occupants of the loft had stretchers, but as there was not one for me, I made my bed upon the floor.  My mates were up to all kinds of mischief, and I did not escape from their pranks.  One of these was to tie a piece of string to the corner of my bed-clothes, and, after the candle was put out, gradually pull them off and leave me uncovered.  I bore with this for a time, but at length I became downright angry; and having a printer’s candlestick weighted with lead by my side, I flung it, hit or miss, without any particular aim.  It struck one of my tormentors on the head, and when I heard a groan, I was afraid I had done him some grievous bodily harm.  Procuring a light, it was found that he was stunned, though he soon recovered; and I was not sorry that no further harm was done.  This put a stop to this kind of practical joking, though there was still far more than I liked ...

On Wednesday, we had to work all day and night to get the paper out on Thursday, the day of publication.  It would have been well for the neighbours if we had kept close to our work, but when we got drowsy, we went out into the street and made the most hideous noises we could - imitating the barking of dogs, the crowing of cocks, the neighing of horses, the braying of donkeys, and all other kinds that our vocal powers could produce. ...  After these awakenings, we would return to our cases and quietly finish the composition necessary for the publication of the paper.

Some of the cartoon that were issued with the paper, which were designated Pen and Ink Sketches, were amusing and usually satirical; but even with these, the paper was not a success.  One of the cartoons was a caricature of Mr Jickling, for a time Acting-Judge in the place of Sir John Jeffcott, who was drowned in attempting to enter the mouth of the Murray.  The cartoon was not so much a caricature as some that were issued, because the subject was really an eccentric individual.  He was a bachelor, and dressed in a peculiar fashion, his trousers not reaching down to his shoes by several inches; and this, with a spring in his walk, made him a conspicuous object.  He was the essence of politeness, and it was said that on one occasion (his sight not being very good) he ran against a post, and supposing that he had obtruded himself upon a passer-by, said, I beg your pardon.

After his temporary term of office, he was succeeded by Mr (afterwards Sir) Charles Cooper, who was Judge of the Supreme Court for many years.  During the early part of this period, a portion of the Judge’s premises was used as a Court-house, and afterward the Queen’s Theatre, in Gilles Arcade, did similar duty.  The Local and Police Courts were held in a house in Currie Street, where the then well-known John Bond Phipson officiated as Clerk of the Court. ...

Conceiving a liking for the printing business, I was soon able to pick up the types ...  I generally joined the others in their Sunday excursions, and well remember one, a trip to the foot of the hills.  On the way, we called at a public-house at or near Kensington, and had some refreshments.  I was asked to drink a glass of wine ...  On this occasion, my companions ... must have drugged the wine to see what the effect would be.  In a short time, I was in a state of stupefaction, more than drunk; and when a little recovered, I staggered about like a drunken man.  This was no doubt what was intended, and for a time, it afforded my companions the amusement they required.

On another occasion, we we went down to the Reedbeds, which at that time were flooded; and as I intended to walk round to the Port, my companions left me to wade through the water.  After doing so for a considerable distance, I reached the beach and walked along it to the Semaphore, which was then uninhabited, or nearly so.  After crossing the peninsula, I found a boat returning to the Port side, and was very thankful to get home after such a tiring and disagreeable journey.  During frequent visits we paid to Whelan’s Hotel in Hindley Street, I added cards and bagatelle to my accomplishments; the latter I liked very much, and could soon beat those who had instructed me in the game.  From the foregoing, it may be supposed that I was on the direct road to ruin, but I went still lower before I was rescued.

The bills for the Theatre were printed at Mr Dehane’s, and we frequently had visits from Mr Lazar, the manager, who was friendly with us boys, and who probably considered that by treating us kindly, the play-bills would be well posted in suitable places.  As a proof of his friendship, he invited us to attend the Theatre, free, as often as we liked; but we were to go behind the scenes.  This kind offer we accepted, and found that as an expression of our gratitude we were to assist, when necessary, in shifting the scenes.  Here, I picked up a great deal that I did not know before, and took an interest in seeing how ordinary men (some of them very ordinary) were made into kings, courtiers and such-like dignitaries.  A peep into the green room revealed some wonderful transformations, many of which could not very well be described.  People who were destitute of dark eyebrows, whiskers, moustache, or beards, were fitted up in a most artistic manner, and in a very short space of time, by those who were adepts at this kind of work.  I saw how the thunder and lightning were made, and was surprised at the simplicity of the process; and before long, I thought I knew all about the mysteries of the Theatre. ...

After a time, my parents returned from the Port, and took possession of their house and shop in Hindley Street.  I then ceased to board and lodge at Mr Dehane’s, and once more lived at home.  I still kept company, however, with my associates at the printing office, and frequently went with them, as before, to bathe in the Torrens.  One Sunday morning, whilst in the water, I stepped on a broken glass bottle, receiving a fearful gash in my foot.  The wound bled freely, and the surrounding water was quite discoloured.  My foot having been bandaged up, I was taken home.  Shortly after, my services were urgently needed at the office, but being unable to walk, and as there were no cabs in those days, Mr Dehane came and carried me down Hindley Street on his back.  By resting my foot on a stool, I was able to sit at my case and set up the types, but the loss of so much blood weakened me, and I was by no means strong before the accident.

After returning to the City, my father continued to grow weaker from the effects of dysentery - a complaint which many suffered from in the early days of the Colony, principally, I think, on account of impure water.  In my father’s case, there was no doubt that worries, annoyances and losses aggravated the disease, which baffled the skill of our kind friend and medical adviser, Dr Mayo.  On 8 September 1842, he died, aged 47 years; leaving my mother, two brothers and a sister to struggle on in the best way we could.  I stood beside the bed in his last hours, and he solemnly requested me to take his place and to do what I could for them.  The once strong man, with an iron constitution, had completely broken down, and, wasted and emaciated, he went prematurely to the grave.  The feeble woman, who for years had been suffering from attacks of weakness and prostration, was spared to engage in the battle of life under very adverse circumstances.

With some difficulty, my mother was able to meet the funeral expenses, but this left her so low in funds that the strictest economy had to be exercised; so much so, that at times, we had scarcely sufficient to eat.  A loan of a few pounds was obtained from a friend, and there was a little owing in addition; besides the ground rent for the land in Hindley Street, which was in arrears by reason of the insolvency of the tenant from Van Diemen’s Land, and the failure of my father to obtain any of the large amount due from this unprincipled man.  My mother knew that the lessor could step in at any time and take possession of his property; and, lest it fall into his hands, she offered the creditors that if they would pay the ground-rent, she would convey the premises to them for what was owing.  Of such little value were houses and land considered at that time, that the creditors declined to accept the terms, and there seemed no alternative but to arrange matters, if possible, with the ground-landlord.

We were so entirely in his hands that, regardless of the widow and fatherless, he seemed determined to have the premises without the slightest compensation. ...  We had not exactly fallen among thieves, but under the power of one who would take all he could get by any means.  In this way, the house and shop, built of brick, with eight or nine rooms, which had cost about £500, was sacrificed; and the landlord took the whole to satisfy his claim ...

After the ground-landlord took possession, we all had to turn out, and we removed into a pise or mud hut in Bank Street.  On opening the bedclothes in the mud hut, I saw a large centipede in possession, which I quickly despatched; but this was nothing compared with the snake in the grass which had dispossessed us of our property.  As my mother had neither money nor goods, she could not set up a business, but did not despair of being able to gain an honest livelihood.  Renting a house in Leigh Street, and procuring two or three forms for seats, she opened a school; and soon had several scholars.  I continued at the printing, and my brother, George Frederick, secured a situation in a baker’s shop in Hindley Street; and by these means, we were able to add to our mother’s income from the school.

We were provided with food and clothing for some time; and, as regards the latter, I wore some of my late father’s apparel, though it could be seen at a glance that the articles were not made to order or to fit.  I was then, and I might say ever after, very careless and indifferent about my dress - so much so that at times, severe criticisms were passed upon my outfitting. ...

In course of time, my mother leased a piece of land in King William Street, and the funds in hand enabled her to erect a shop and dwelling upon it.  The site was that now occupied by Messrs FH Faulding & Co’s warehouse, and the shop was one of the first to project out to the footpath.  In this enterprise, she was aided by the earnings of my brother and self, as well as by the school fees.  In addition, I contributed some timber from the skeletons of two new unfinished houses which I had purchased, together with two allotments of land, for the sum of £5.  The land was situated on the plains, about two miles from Adelaide, and was one of the many sacrifices made in those days by persons who desired to leave the Colony.  At each visit to my suburban estate, I found that whatever timber could be taken away was removed without my permission; so, to save further trouble, I had the remainder carted to the city.  The shop in King William Street was opened with a small stock of useful and fancy goods, and my mother, by making-up millinery, was enabled to earn and save money.

On one occasion, at Mr Dehane’s, I was nearly suffocated with the fumes of a charcoal fire.  My frame was just at the back of the front door, while behind me stood the water-cask.  This was considered a good place for a fire in the cold weather; so fire and water were in close proximity.  I suppose at the time I refer to there was an extra quantity of charcoal burning, as previous fires did not injuriously affect me.  Before I was quite overcome, I was taken into the open air, and soon recovered.  After this, the charcoal fire was discontinued, as printers were too scarce to be disposed of in this way.

Though I really liked the printing business, it did not appear to agree with my health, and as an opportunity offered for me to take a trip into the country, I availed myself of it.  Someone was required for a short period to take charge of a small flock of sheep at shearing-time, and I thought I could manage this.  A Scotch shepherd who had charge of a station near Bull Creek told me of the situation, and offered to allow me to accompany him, and to direct me to the locality.  We started on foot, following a dray-track through the Black Forest to Tapleys Hill; resting for the night in Mr Reynell’s dairy.

The next day, we proceeded, by way of the Meadows, to the shepherd’s hut, which we reached before dark.  My guide was rather an elderly man, and I was surprised at the reception he met with from his old woman.  I suppose that Adelaide had proved so attractive to him that he stayed there too long, and spent too much money.  At tea-time, I could see that there was a storm brewing, and, after we had finished the evening meal, it burst forth.  After letting her old man know her mind, irrespective of my presence, she proceeded still further to signify her displeasure ...  After this, I retired to rest, with a peep at the stars through the open spaces of the slab hut - presenting in the peaceful array quite a contrast to the torrent of angry words that had been poured forth within.

The next morning, my guide took me first to the head station that was under his care; and here he had a daughter, a comely maiden, who seemed to be quite at home in this isolated and out-of-the-way region.  By cutting away the side of a hill, a kind of verandah had been constructed, with a roof projecting several feet forward, closed in by canvas in front and at each end when necessary; and this formed a sheltered dwelling-place.  For the use of shepherds, watch-boxes were provided, consisting of a timber framework covered with canvas.  On returning from my shepherd’s work, I slept, or rather tried to sleep, in one of these watch-boxes, but failed in the attempt.  I had a sheepskin for my bed, and, though the weather was cold, was in such a state of irritation that I did not require any bedclothes to keep me warm.  Outside, there was a roaring fire, and besides the noise of this there was the howling of the dingoes, or wild dogs, all through, the night; and as though this were not sufficient to banish sleep, there was the barking of the dogs kept for the purpose of hunting or driving away the intruders.  This head-station was situated in a main gully, with several smaller gullies leading into it; and it was down these latter that the wild dogs came at night to seek their prey.  Though the sheep were folded, the dingoes would jump the hurdles, and if they could not carry away the sheep, would worry them to death.

After breakfast, I was conducted across Bull Creek to the place where my services were required, and next morning, a small flock of sheep was committed to my care, with instructions as to the direction to take, and the time to bring them back.  Being totally unacquainted with the country, I did not like to venture too far away, and as I had no dog to manoeuvre the sheep, I rounded them up rather frequently by walking around them time after time.  The sheep could scarcely have appreciated my close attention to them, as they were not permitted to spread out so much as they wanted to.  I had a practical illustration of the truth of Scripture regarding our proclivity for straying like sheep; for I noticed that however good the pasturage might be in any particular place, they would always leave it for something they supposed to be better.  Having so much walking to do throughout the day, I was very glad to reach the station at night and after supper to get a good rest.  At the end of a fortnight, the sheep entrusted to my care were counted, and no fewer than seven found missing.  How the loss occurred, I knew not, but having proved such a bad shepherd, I received my wages and was informed that my services were no longer required.

As I knew of no other way back to Adelaide than that by which I had come, I started out on my homeward journey alone, re-crossing Bull Creek in the direction of the station which was under the care of my former guide.  After traversing about half the distance, and not seeing any landmark to indicate the particular gully to make for, and the day being far advanced, I did not like the idea of wandering about among the wild dogs after dark.  I concluded that an elevated plateau I had reached was a suitable place to bivouac, if compelled to bush it for the night.  Although not a smoker, I carried matches, and was just about to gather up some wood for a fire, when from the distance came the faint sound of a sheep-bell in one of the gullies.  Following the sound, which grew more and more distinct, I reached the station just as the sheep were being folded.  That night’s experience has already been mentioned.  Though tired for want of sleep, I continued my journey next day, and after two days’ tramp over a distance of about forty miles, safely reached the city.  I did not feel physically any better for my country trip, but had gained experience which was useful to me in after-life.

 

Annotations

ANGAS, George Fife (1789-1879). Born in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, Northumberland, England, GF Angas worked in the family coachmaking industry there until his father’s death, the moving to London, where he took a great interest in banking and insurance. Later, Angas became one of the prime movers in the formation of the South Australian Company set up to promote the colonisation of the new province of South Australia. A Baptist by conviction, Angas sympathised with a group of persecuted Prussian Lutherans and lent them money to travel to South Australia in 1838. GF Angas and his wife moved to South Australia permanently in 1851, where he spent much time enlarging his business interests, belonging to the South Australian parliament and fostering various religious and charitable movements.

BAILEY, John (1800-1864). Born at Hackney, at that time a ‘populous village north-east of London’. Following thorough training with Messrs Conrad Loddiges & Son, proprietors of the most extensive botanical nursery in England, J Bailey emigrated to SA 1839 Buckinghamshire, and took up the post of first Colonial Botanist. After the position was abolished when the province faced near bankruptcy in 1841, John established the Hackney Nursery (mostly nicknamed Bailey’s Gardens) beside the Torrens River on the main Adelaide-Payneham road. With the vines, dates, damsons, olive and other trees he brought out with him from England, as a gift from his employers, J Bailey was tireless in propogation of these and many other plants to build up stocks for colonial horticulture. He advertised regularly in the press and many people from the government down sought his advice on gardening matters.

BAILEYS GARDEN. The popular nickname for John Bailey’s commercial Hackney Nursery across Hackney Road from what later became the Adelaide Botanical Gardens. This business flourished during the 1840s-1850s.

BANK STREET, Adelaide. Takes its name after the head office of the Bank of South Australia (SAs first bank), which was established on the corner of Bank St and North Tce in March 1837. The bank eventually shifted to King William St and continued trading until 1892, but the street name has endured.

BOWDEN, John (c1801-1874). A native of Kersbrook Farm, Cornwall, J Bowden and his brother, Jacob, arrived in SA 1837 Royal Admiral. John became manager of the SA Company’s dairy herds beside the Torrens River, where Kersbrook stands today. After the Company gave up this business, Bowden bought some of the land and named his new property Kersbrook, after his Cornish birthplace. Soon afterwards, J Bowden took out pastoral leases in Southern Yorke Peninsula, and became involved in the capture of four runaway Van Diemen’s Land convicts whom he had unwittingly employed on his isolated run. Further high controversy pursued John over breach of agreement in regard to sheep sales during the 1850s. In old age, J Bowden remained content to work his Kersbrook property in the Adelaide Hills. Laid out by William Carman as Maidstone in 1858, the present township of Kersbrook gained its name in 1917, from John Bowden’s nearby estate.

BUCKINGHAM, George. In charge of the Queen’s Theatre props and costumes after it opened during 1841. Likely to have left Adelaide that same year, as his name fails to re-appear in the Directories.

BULPITT, William (c1807-1845) d 20/3/1845. saddler, general dealer, Anglican. Married Rebecca Debney, daughter of saddler Robert Debney of Burnside and sister of George Debney, furniture maker, of Burnside. She re-married E Moss.

CLUB HOUSE HOTEL, Hindley St South Side. First licensed as the Victoria Hotel in 1839, this hotel became a private club between 1840-1845. On 20 March 1845, it re-opened as an inn, under the rather appropriate title of the Club House Hotel. The business closed in 1852, after a yearly turn-over of publicans.

COGLIN, Patrick (1815-1892). As a teenager, Paddy Coglin joined his family in emigrating (1831) from his Irish birth-place, Ballymore, in Co Sligo, to Van Diemen’s Land. In Hobart, he became apprenticed to a builder who gained contracts for many of Hobart’s principal buildings. Four years later found Patrick in Adelaide, establishing a prosperous Hindley St timber yard. Within years, his profits enabled him to re-locate his business in King William St, where he also built the Napoleon Hotel and became its first landlord. PB Coglin continued to wax rich on further lucrative real estate purchases and also took out huge West Coast pastoral leases. He maintained a high public involvement through becoming an MP and also Mayor of Hindmarsh. Patrick also laid out the sub-divisions of Brompton Park and Croydon. Coglin’s colourful dress and language, combined with his fervent interest in horse racing, made him immensely popular. He died at home, built on one of his Brompton Park allotments.

COLONIAL CHAPLAIN. Between 1836-1869, the SA Public Service included a Colonial Chaplain on its payroll. The officer had to be prepared to provide religious services for anyone who asked for them, and without further charge above the government salary. Together with a transportable wooden parsonage, the Rev’d CB Howard and his family accompanied Governor Hindmarsh on the Buffalo to SA in 1836. In the end, Mr Howard had to bring his building in relays on a small hand cart to Adelaide from the port. He set to work for £250 per annum as the only clergyman in the colony for a whole year and the only Anglican priest there until 1840. When Charles Howard died 1843, the Rev’d James Farrell, who had arrived in 1840, succeeded him. Both priests became noted for their self-denying ministry, willing in all weathers and while enduring poor health, to travel long distances to people in need. The post of Colonial Chaplain ceased upon Mr Farrell’s death in 1869.

FLETT, William (1806-1855). A native of the Orkney Islands, Scotland, W Flett, his wife and young children emigrated to SA 1840 Indus, accompanied by a tent, which his brother-in-law, James Linklater, had made especially to serve as the family’s first home in Australia. Died in his residence at Brougham Place, North Adelaide. Daughter Jane married prosperous squatter SJ Stuckey, who was one of the earliest white children born in SA.

HUSSEY, George (1792-1842). A native of Wimborne, Dorset, England, G Hussey experienced many overseas adventures in the Royal Navy, and the East India and South Sea Companies. On his comfortable profits, he ran a public house and then a wine and spirit company in England with indifferent success, before deciding to emigrate to SA 1840, in the barque Asia, with his wife and young family. George invested in a good commercial property in Hindley St, but his many small ventures failed to prosper. Finally, SAs impure water brought on bouts of dysentery, which wore him down; despite a time at Pt Adelaide to take advantage of marine breezes, he died in his Hindley St home, amid worries, annoyances and losses, just several months short of his 50th birthday. G Hussey’s eldest son, Henry, became noted for his work as confidential clerk to GF Angas at Lindsay Park, near Angaston, and his brave attempt to finish one of the first detailed histories of SA.

HUSSEY, Henry (1825-6/5/1903). Born Kennington, London, to parents George Hussey and Catherine Burt.

JAMES, Mrs an heiress, who owned a landau

KENSINGTON

KENT, Dr Benjamin (?-1864). Benjamin Kent emigrated to SA 1840 as ship’s surgeon aboard the Warrior. As part of the cargo, the vessel brought out flour milling equipment for John Ridley and a brickmaking machine for Mr Kent. Soon, he became involved in the influential Church Society, which aimed to regulate better the ministrations of the Anglican Church. Brickmaking must have palled, for BA Kent established a farm, called East Park, amid a wattle grove adjoining the East Park Lands; later, he added a flour mill on his property. The good medico almost beat John Ridley for primary honours for flour at the first SA A & H Society Show in 1844: D Kent’s specimen was almost as good, but not so lofty. His daughter, Graeme, married August Bayer, a fashionable doctor from Germany, who practised in Adelaide for many years. Dr Kent himself eventually retired to salubrious addresses in London and the Isle of Wight.

KENT TOWN. Dr Benjamin Kent survived many early colonial misfortunes (including bankruptcy), before he could lay out an awkward triangular-shaped township on Section 255, Hundred of Adelaide, adjoining the East Park Lands, in 1854. The sub-division became notable for the fact that numbers of Adelaide’s best-known west-east streets continued across the Park Lands and through Kent Town, retaining their names in the process. During 1865, the Wesleyan Methodist Church bought a prominent 13-acre site to establish Prince Alfred College there. Because of its close proximity to Adelaide, Kent Town quickly became a sought-after locality for prosperous residences.

KENT TOWN BREWERY, Kent Town. ET Smith, the Brewer Knight, chose one of metropolitan Adelaide’s most prominent sites - the corner of Rundle St and Dequetteville Tce, Kent Town - on which to erect a massive brewery and nine workmen’s cottages during 1875-1876. Lavish opening ceremonies, including a banquet in the spacious malting room, heralded the commencement of brewing operations on 2 June 1876. After the Kent Town and West End Breweries amalgamated during 1888, malting processes alone continued at Kent Town. Full of honours, ET Smith died in 1919, leaving a huge legacy of practical involvment with charitable institutions, local and state government organisations and business boardrooms.

KINGSTON, George (1807-1880). Born at Brandon, Co Cork, Ireland, GS Kingston emigrated to SA 1836 Cygnet, with his wife and son. Having served with Colonel Light in the colony’s first surveying team until the Surveyor-General’s resignation during March 1837, Kingston briefly assumed control until Frome’s permanent appointment. From 1840, George Kingston became Town Surveyor for the Adelaide City Council. In 1849, he entered the Legislative Council during the transfer of power from the Governor to an entirely elected government. Unaninmously, Paddy Kingston took on the Speakership of the first House of Assembly meetings in 1857, and maintained this post (except between 1861-1864) until he retired in 1880. He founded the seaside township of Kingston SE in 1858; long before, he had encouraged the keeping of official detailed weather observations by publicising his own copious data on the subject kept from soon after his arrival in the colony. Sir George was also the driving force behind the opening of the first Freemason’s Lodge in SA.

KLEMZIG

LAZAR, John. (1801-8/6/1879 NZ). To SA 1840 Dorset, from NSW. A popular hotel-keeper during the 1840s-1850s. J Lazar kept the Shakespeare Tavern (1841-1842) and the Temple Tavern (1850-1851) in Gilles Arcade. Between 1852-1853, he ran the Blenheim Hotel (now Tattersalls) in Hindley St. All of these establishments were handy for John’s regular acting performances in the Queen’s Theatre (which he also managed), abutting Gilles Arcade. During the 1850s, J Lazar became a member of the Adelaide City Council, serving as Mayor between 1855-1858. He left for New Zealand 1863, where he died at Hokitika. It is likely that Lazar’s wife, nee Julia Solomon, was a sister of Emanuel and Vaiben Solomon, who owned the brig Dorset and much of the Gilles Arcade property, including the Queen’s Theatre.

LAZARUS, Joseph. Between 1839-1842, a Hindley St storekeeper. A very large shop.

LEIGH STREET, Adelaide. A private road passing through Town Acres 76 & 111, joining Currie and Hindley Sts. Wealthy William Leigh, of Staffordshire, presented the land to the Anglican Church during 1839. Suitably, the Church authorities named their new thoroughfare after this generous benefactor. Rents from this valuable central city property still contribute towards Anglican Church fundraising.

LIGHT SQUARE, Adelaide. Named after SAs first Surveyor-General, William Light, at a particularly acrimonious meeting held on 23 May 1837. Factions supporting the Governor (John Hindmarsh) and the Resident Commissioner (James Fisher) at last had their compromise list gazetted on 3 June 1837. This square remained clouded with controversy for some years after Colonel Light was buried there on 10 October 1839, when the exact form of a proper memorial over his grave could not be agreed on.

LINKLATER, James. Respected businessman, lived in Strangways Tce, North Adelaide, JP. On the Marine Board, a very quiet man, with no interest in public life.

NICHOLLS, Worth (c1807-1849). To SA 1837 Navarino. By 1842, he was a builder operating from South Tce, Adelaide. Later, he was a carrier and baker of nearby Sturt St. W Nicholls also embarked on a spirited correspondence with several local newspapers on topics of the day

ST PAUL’S PORT ADELAIDE. Anglican services, latterly held in the new Customs Sheds at McLaren Wharf, between 1839-1840, preceded the erection of the first St Paul’s. Unusual gales and high tides caused the congregation to leave in boats supplied by Harbourmaster Lipson when the wooden church opened during 1841. Shortly after a new stone church was finished in 1852, the old St Paul’s-on-piles blew away in a strong storm. The present St Paul’s came into service during 1907.

SCOTCH BELLA - Nickname for Isabella Anderson qu.

SELTH, Rawdon (1813-1861) Born in Deal, Kent, England. In SA by 1841, when as a Rundle St baker, he married Mary Ann Day, daughter of Rundle St blacksmith John Day. Following Rawdon’s early death, Mary kept a boarding house to rear her ten children. Second son, George, earned a sound reputation as a businessman and hotel broker in Adelaide and at the Port - he was prominent in establishing Pt Adelaide’s tram system. The third son, John, eventually became a Parliamentary Messenger for many years.

STUCKEY, John Born in Muchelney, Somerset, England, J Stuckey arrived in SA 1836 Tam O’Shanter, a month before the proclamation of the colony. He and his wife settled into a house in Rundle St, prior to living on a property near Meadows in the Adelaide Hills. The Stuckeys’ eldest child, Samuel, was born in a reed hut at Holdfast Bay (Glenelg), during March 1837, thus one of the earliest white babies born in the province; as a young man in 1860, he brought back a shipment of camels from India, the first of these animals to come to Australia.

TAPLEYS HILL. This landmark on South Road at O’Halloran Hill, became part of the Tapley family’s farm, very early in the colony’s white settlement. Thomas Tapley (1789-1856) arrived on the Rajasthan in 1836, with his wife and nine children. He farmed in conjunction with running the nearby Victoria Inn, which he established in 1840. In retirement, Thomas lived on South Tce, Adelaide, where he died suddenly of apoplexy at 3.00am, on 14 June, deeply regretted by his friends and relatives.

TASMANIA. About the size of Ireland, Tasmania was long believed to be part of the Australian mainland. During 1803, the first European inhabitants arrived - convicts and their guards, who made Tasmania part of the NSW penal settlement system. From the early 1830s, free colonists came in increasing numbers to cultivate barley, oats, potatoes and fruit and establish prosperous sheep and cattle properties. Sheltered harbours became bases for diverse fishing and whaling fleets. Until its own farms began to flourish in the early 1840s, SA relied heavily on Tasmanian foodstuffs to survive and regular shipping services quickly began to ply between Pt Adelaide and Hobart and Launceston. Numbers of energetic British pastoralists re-emigrated from Tasmania to help found SAs sheep industry, and the colony also unwillingly hosted runaway convicts from across the Tasman whose various continued crimes made greater headlines than the men’s honest work as useful timber splitters.

TEICHELMANN, Christian (1807-1888). A native of Dahme, Saxony, C Teichelmann studied at the Dresden Missionary Society seminary to become a Lutheran missionary . At the time of his graduation, Teichemann and a fellow student, Clamor Schürmann, decided to emigrate to SA 1838, as missionaries to the Aborigines. The two men travelled aboard the ship Pestonjee Bomanjee, in company with the new Governor, George Gawler, and his suite. With some financial support from the colonial government and GF Angas, Teichelmann continued his work amongst the Aborigines, operating from a tiny white cottage in the so-called Native Location, across the Torrens River from the Adelaide Gaol. The missionaries produced an Aboriginal grammar book in 1840, as a result of their labours.

Unfortunately, the Aboriginal Mission salary became too irregular for CG Teichelmann, with a growing family to support after his 1843 marriage to Scotswoman Margaret Nicholson. Beginning with a small Morphett Vale property in the late 1840s, where he was also district postmaster, Teichelmann decided to farm in various parts of the colony, sometimes in conjunction with regular Lutheran Church parish duties. Christian died on his estate, Heywood Park, near Stansbury.

THOMAS, Robert (1781-1860). A Welshman, R Thomas prospered as a London law stationer in Fleet St, before bringing his family to SA in 1836, aboard the Africaine. The printing press he brought with him published the Proclamation of SA, read on 28 December 1836. Thomas established the colony’s first newspaper, the South Australian Gazette and Colonial Register, which combined government notices with general news; despite equipment and staffing shortages, the newspaper became a weekly publication. colonists also appreciated the 1838 SA Church Hymn Book .

Various business difficulties caused Thomas to declare bankruptcy during 1842. For a time in the 1840s-1850s, he worked as a government inspector of weights & measures and initiated various private enterprises of his own. From 1852, Robert had the pleasure of seeing his second son, William, become chief shareholder in a company which acquired the Register and continued to publish until 1931. Robert Thomas took a great interest in the growth of SA. His wife, Mary, kept a detailed diary of her activities, which, in published form, have become a valuable resource for SAs colonial beginnings.

TORRENS, Robert (1814-1884). Following a childhood in Cork, Ireland, RR Torrens graduated from Trinity College, Dublin. He obtained the post as Pt Adelaide’s Collector of Customs in 1841 and straight way became imbroiled in the sensational Ville de Bordeaux affair, which threatened to become an international incident. During the 1850s, Torrens entered political life and even rose to become Premier for a month in 1857. He became known internationally with his promotion of the 1858 Real Property Act, to which his name became applied, although he had nothing to do with the creation of this system of land transfer. Robert Torrens returned to Britain in 1863, spending much time as Lieutenant-Colonel of Artillery Volunteers and an author of many books. He also became MP for Cambridge in the House of Commons. Queen Victoria knighted RR Torrens in 1872.

TRINITY CHURCH, Adelaide. When the Adelaide Town Acres were ready for selection in 1837, the colonists agreed that the Anglican Church should have first choice of the sites. Mr P St Leger Grenfell, an English philanthropist, had given enough money to buy the city land, plus forty acres of glebe on which the suburb of Trinity Gardens now stands. Col W Light chose a central position near the Torrens ford on North Tce, which led to Pt Adelaide. The temporary wooden building immediately put into place gave way by mid-1838 to a stone church dedicated to the Holy Trinity, but familiarly known as Trinity Church. A year later, the SA Commissioners gave the landmark clock still keeping time in the church tower. Many notable events and famous people are connected with the history of this, SAs oldest church.

VAN DIEMEN’S LAND. The name which Abel Tasman, the discoverer of Tasmania, gave to the island when he landed there on 24 November 1642. Tasman thus honoured his patron, Anthony van Diemen, Governor of the Dutch East Indies, who had sponsored his voyage. During 1798, the journey of Bass and Flinders though Bass Strait proved that Van Diemen’s Land was not part of the continent of Australia. Because Van Diemen’s Land developed some of the worst excesses of penal settlement cruelty, the new free colony after 1851 petitioned the British government successfully for a name change to Tasmania, which came into effect on 1 January 1856. Until the Australian colonists campaigned for the transportation system to stop, SA sent its own convicts to be kept in Van Diemen’s Land.

VILLE DE BORDEAUX ship. Launched in the Bay of Biscay port of Bordeaux during 1836, this French cargo vessel arrived off Holdfast Bay at the end of January 1841. Captain Henri Biron made off, following a dispute with SA customs authorities. The colony’s only steam vessel, the paddle steamer Courier, gave chase, its boiler chocked with all handy shingles and palings - hence, the drama became known as the Shingle Expedition. Finally, the Ville de Bordeaux’s crew mutinied and brought the boat back to port. This action caused great excitement amongst the small colonial population. The SA Government sued Captain Biron for the expense involved in bringing him back and impounded the vessel, which eventually became a light-ship at the entrance to Pt Adelaide. Many people feared that the incident would provoke international tensions between Britain and France; however, all appeared to pass over without such incidents.

WATERHOUSE CORNER. Sons of Yorkshire farmer Thomas Waterhouse Senr, Henry, John and Thomas Waterhouse had emigrated to SA at various times by 1840. Promply, the men invested in a prominent allotment on the corner of King William and Rundle Sts and set themselves up as merchant grocers. The name lingers still, although the Waterhouses themselves returned to Britain after they had made their fortune in merchandising and mining interests.

WATTS, Mr & Mrs bricklayer. Came out on the Asia with the Hussey family in 1839. Had no family.

WHELAN’S HOTEL, Hindley St. John Wheland established the Tasmanian Hotel on Town Acre 71, on the south-east corner of Morphett and Hindley Streets, during 1839. Advertisements of the day announced proudly that the landlord brewed his own beer behind the premises. With one intermission, Wheland continued trading until 1846, his large public room frequently commandeered for vaudeville and dancing. Under landlord John Chanter, the business became known as the Prince Albert. Following further name changes, the hotel closed in 1921, having been called then for many years the Adelaide Hotel. Much of the site is now part of the Adelaide College of TAFE.

 

Bibliography

BOOKS:

ORDNANCE SURVEY Motoring atlas of Great Britain Feltham UK 1985.

ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OF SOUTH AUSTRALASIA (South Australian Branch) The centenary history of South Australia Adelaide 1936.

SCALES, M John Walker’s village Adelaide 1974.

VINEY, HG A century of commerce in South Australia 1836-1936 Adelaide 1936.

WARBURTON, E The paddocks beneath Adelaide 1981.

BUTLER, R & PHILLIPS, A (Ed) Register: personal notices Vol 1 1836-1859 Adelaide 1989.

COCKBURN, R Pastoral pioneers of South Australia Vol 1 & 2. Facsimile nd.

GIBBS, RM A history of Prince Alfred College Adelaide 1984.

JOSE, GH The Church of England in South Australia 1836-1856 Adelaide 1937.