After crossing the river (or rather the bed of it), and leaving the sawyers' party, Tom Rainsfield leisurely pursued his journey; and, after riding for about twenty miles or so, he could perceive, by the nature of the country and the occasional appearance of "improvements," that he was approaching the town of Brisbane. Towards dark the road led him through lines of fences, and past a few cottages and cultivated fields, and thence by detached buildings, until he finally entered the town and put up at his hotel not at all dissatisfied at the completion of his journey. The country, even to town, had equally suffered by the drought. Hardly a vestige of herbage was to be seen on the whole surface of the ground, and the mortality amongst the beasts was fearful, and painfully perceptible from the fulsome malaria in the atmosphere. Tom's horse was reduced to a perfect shadow, and was so weak that when he reached the inn he could hardly drag one foot after another, and certainly could not have existed another day with a continuation of his privations. Hence Tom was additionally delighted when he drew rein at the Crown Hotel, and permitted his weary and faithful animal to be led away to the stables, while he proceeded to refresh himself in a manner most pleasant after his own fatigues.
CHAPTER VIII.
"Ye glittering towns, with wealth and splendour crown'd,
Ye fields, where summer spreads profusion round,
Ye lakes, whose vessels catch the busy gale,
Ye bending swains, that dress the flow'ry vale."
Goldsmith.
When Tom Rainsfield arrived in Brisbane he found it entirely absorbed in politics, and the public attention so engaged in the all-important question of separation that even the deplorable state in which the country then was in was for the time forgotten. Business for the nonce was entirely relinquished, and the good citizens were in a perfect ferment of exultation, consequent on the receipt of joyous news. As a few remarks respecting the topography of the place, and the nature of the people's agitation, may not be here amiss we will endeavour to describe and trace their progress through their various phases to the date of our narrative.
The town of Brisbane is pleasantly situated on a picturesque and meandering river of the same name, about twenty miles from the point where it disembogues into Moreton Bay. Passing its first establishment it was not until the year 1840 that it was resorted to for the purposes of trade. In that year drays first crossed "the range" by Cunningham's Gap; and the squatters, who were then pushing on in the settlement of the interior, discovered that this place could be made a convenient port for the shipment of their produce to Sydney. The place, however, being only a convict settlement free settlers were prohibited from approaching it; and it was only by a special application to the government that on the following year the land on the south bank of the river was surveyed and laid out for a township, and a residence for the purposes of trade permitted. The following year the convicts were wholly withdrawn from the district, and the land that had been blighted by their occupancy was thrown open to the public. From this period then, viz., 1842, is to be dated the settlement of Moreton Bay, when the whole free population of the district might have been numbered by dozens, and when the first regular communication with Sydney was established.
The town of Brisbane at that time, and even for years afterwards, consisted only of a few wooden huts; and, with the exception of the government buildings which had been erected during the penal era for the housing and confinement of the convicts stationed there, not a decent or substantial edifice existed. A few acres of ground had been cleared by the prisoners for cultivation immediately round the settlement, and at two places situated on the river below the town, respectively two and seven miles distant; but otherwise the wilderness remained in its primeval condition.
The town on the northern bank of the river, which was much better situated (both in a commercial and residentiary point of view) than that on the southern, rapidly attracted the attention of speculators and settlers. It was situated in a spacious pocket, caused by a bend in the river, and flanked by gently undulating ridges. It was judiciously laid out; with wide rectangular streets, commodious reserves for public purposes, and was possessed of almost unbounded water frontage, which could afford accommodation for a large commercial intercourse. One of the boons left to the public upon the withdrawal of the convicts and military, besides the court-house, hospital, and barracks, was a botanical garden. It had been constructed for the especial pleasure and accommodation of the officers and other officials of the settlement, and became after their departure a very acceptable legacy to the people.
The young settlement prospered amazingly as it became more peopled by the streams of immigration from the southern parts of the colony. The squatters who had advanced with their flocks and herds from the occupied districts in the southern interior speedily formed stations in actual contiguity to the township; which was daily increasing its trade, as its intercourse with the interior became more settled and developed. The architectural appearance of the town for years showed no improvement; and the comfort of the inhabitants was little thought of in its commercial prosperity. Large sums were annually gathered into the government coffers from the sale of the lands in the township, but nothing was ever done by the ruling powers to improve its condition; and it was allowed to remain in that state in which it had left the hands of the surveyors. The lines of the streets were certainly marked, but no levels were fixed; and the idea of drainage never entered the minds of the people's rulers. In fact, though the government, as we have said, continued from year to year to derive large revenues from the sale of these town lands, they never deemed it necessary to expend a fraction in even the formation of the streets; and hence, after twelve years from its occupation by a free population, it was, like all other bush towns in the country, in a wretched and deplorable condition. After rains the so-called streets became perfectly impassable, even to foot passengers; and the principal thoroughfare was frequently the course of a swollen torrent, that had in successive years worn for itself a bed, interspersed with deep holes, which rendered it absolutely dangerous to venture amongst its snares after dark. The extorting policy of the government had always been to sacrifice the interests of the distant settlers for a centralized aggrandizement; or, in other words, the revenues derived from this or any other country district were applied, not solely to the defraying of the expense of legislative machinery, but to the improvement and embellishment of Sydney, and other works that had no local importance to the out-lying districts. This was one of the main grievances that induced the settlers in later years to petition for separation from the parent colony. But we are anticipating.
The advance of the district after its settlement continued with rapid strides; and the labour requirements of the settlers kept continually in advance of the supply. So that much inconvenience was felt by the employers at the paucity of industrial bone and muscle procurable in the district. For years the squatters were compelled to draw their supply of labour from the Sydney market, an exceedingly expensive and by no means satisfactory expedient, until the year 1848, when the influx of direct immigration commenced. From this date ships at repeated intervals have discharged their living freight on the shores of Moreton Bay, where they have speedily met engagements at high rates of wages, and become absorbed in the increasing population.