Ipswich, or as it was originally called, Limestone, from the quantity of that mineral which pervaded the neighbourhood, is situated on the Bremer river, which falls into the Brisbane. It is distant from the town of Brisbane about twenty-five miles by land, and sixty by water, and is stationed at the highest navigable point on either stream. It was formerly used by the government as a station for the sheep and cattle of the settlement during the penal times; and, upon the withdrawal of the prisoners, it was, like its sister settlement, declared a township, surveyed, and thrown open to the public. The first land in it was sold in Brisbane in the year 1843; but for three years afterwards the town made little progress. With the exception of a brick cottage that had been erected for the overseer in charge of the military and prisoners stationed there while it was a government establishment, and which, after the break up, was converted into a public-house to afford accommodation and allay the thirst of wayfarers to and fro between Brisbane and the interior, few buildings, even of the most makeshift description, were erected. The place had as then attracted little or no attention; for the traffic passed it on its way without any further stoppage than what a bush public-house is expected to effect among the bullock-drivers and draymen, while the drays came right down to Brisbane without any interruption to their loads.

During the time of its attachment to the penal settlement at Brisbane the communication between the two places had been maintained by the means of boats and punts, in which the supplies of the station were brought up, and live stock for consumption, and lime requisite for the works at the township, returned. No doubt, acting on this knowledge, the idea occurred to an enterprising settler of the district that the traffic could be diverted from the road to the river, and would be advantageous in the saving of time and trouble consequent on the primitive style of land carriage in vogue. He therefore started a small steamer in the year last mentioned, viz., 1846, to ply between the two places; and though not successful in his project, so far as his own pocket was concerned, the soundness of his conjectures was patent in the benefits that resulted. The advancement of Ipswich may be dated from that period, since which its progress has been extraordinarily rapid, and even bids fair to maintain the race with the sister town with some degree of success.

Though Ipswich is admirably situated for the purposes of trade with the interior, it is by no means so eligible a site for a town, nor so well planned out as Brisbane. Its streets are narrow, and have been lined by the surveyors without any regard to levels or the "lay" of the country. It is situated in a hollow, so that the drainage falls into the centre of the town, while the surrounding hills preclude the possibility of approach of any of those breezes which are so deliciously refreshing during sultry summer weather. The buildings, on the whole, are creditable, and even fine for so young a place, though by no means equal to those of Brisbane; and its peculiar characteristics are, bullock-drays, dirty streets, and public-houses. It is, however, a busy, thriving town; and if in the selection of its site a little more judicious forethought had been exercised, and more consideration for comfort, health, and amenity displayed in its surveying, it might have been made, with its beautiful surrounding scenery, as pretty a spot as could have been desired. But in this, as in every other case in the colonies since their foundation, the only thing that has been exhibited is the cupidity of the government, whose only desire has ever been to realise as much as possible from the sales of land, with as little outlay as practicable. Hence the inhabitants are doomed to live in a place that, upon the minutest visitation of rain, becomes a perfect "slough of despond;" and from its concave situation, when under a vertical sun, is at least ten degrees warmer than any other place in the district.

This, then, is the point to which all the traffic now converges in its passage to Brisbane, and diverges in its transit to the interior—the highway between the two points being the river, while the road is merely used for the lighter traffic of a few equestrians and light vehicles. Such is the alteration, and we may of course add improvement, in the appearance of the country by the influence of civilisation consequent on the settlement of the district; and so rapidly has it taken place that if any of the old official residents, who only knew it in its infancy of freedom, were again to visit it, we have no hesitation in saying they would not credit their senses. We are aware that in all new colonies, where capital, industry, and perseverance are brought to bear upon the barren wastes, the speedy transition to a smiling scene of plenty is the inevitable result. But in most there is an air of freshness about everything, which proclaims it a new place; while in those towns of Moreton Bay the case is very different. They seem almost to have sprung into maturity at once; and, especially in Brisbane, there is a something about it so thoroughly English, that were it not for the luxuriant growth of exotics, the heavy timber on the adjacent hills, and the tropical appearance in the architecture of some of the suburban dwellings which instantly strike the eye, a stranger could hardly bring himself to believe this was the last formed of Britain's colonies; while we can affirm it is already far from the meanest.

Before taking leave of this local subject we beg permission here to introduce a little episode that is characteristic of the relationship that existed between the two towns, or rather the settlement and the station, before the advent that proclaimed the country open to free settlers. Towards the latter end of the penal, or military, administration, the district was visited by a fearful flood that swept over the face of the country and rendered all travelling, either by land or water, perfectly impracticable. The intercourse, therefore, between Brisbane and Limestone was entirely severed, and for weeks no communication could be attempted. At the station, during this stoppage, the supplies began to run short (it never having been deemed necessary to anticipate such an emergency), and the residents were soon suffering serious privations from the want of their necessary rations. No boats or horses were at the station at the time, so that they were unable to intimate to the authorities below the state in which they were situated. The officials at Limestone waited from day to day in the vain hope of seeing the waters recede, and the means of communication re-established, but they were disappointed. The flood continued at its height, and starvation was almost staring them in the face. In this emergency the officer in charge of the prisoners offered a free pardon to any who would accomplish the voyage to the settlement, and report there the distress the people at Limestone were suffering.

The passage was undertaken by two of the men, who knew that success was freedom, and that failure's concomitant was death. One took the track through the bush and perished, possibly by being washed away while attempting the crossing of some swollen creek, but the other was more successful, and succeeded in reaching the township in safety, where he communicated the intelligence of the destitution at Limestone, and had the gratification of relieving his former companions, and securing his freedom. Supplies were immediately forwarded to the famished station on pack-horses, which, only after surmounting considerable difficulties and dangers, succeeded in reaching their destination. This passage was one of the boldest and most extraordinary feats on colonial record, and, considering the manner in which it was effected, freedom was certainly not too great a reward. It was accomplished by the man tracing the course of the river, travelling by land where such was practicable, and taking to the river and swimming where it was not. When it is remembered that all the low and flat parts of the country were under water, and that it was computed half the distance of the journey, or nearly thirty miles, was traversed in the swollen stream, with a flying current and eddying pools, and amidst trees and other debris, swarming with reptiles and insects brought down from the mountains and clustered on the floating masses, some conception may be formed of what the intrepid courier had gone through. But to return again to our narrative.

The period of which we write is the summer of 1857, when the cry of "separation" resounded through the country. Some time previous to this the colonists had received intimation of the intention of her Majesty's government to erect Moreton Bay into a separate state amongst the group of Australian colonies. But at this period, as we have already stated, fresh despatches had been received, in which the boundaries and a sketch of its constitution were defined, and the inhabitants were deep in the contemplation of these topics. We fear that this disquisition on history and politics may be considered an interpolation foreign to the nature of our work, and uninteresting to the majority of our readers; but we must excuse ourselves for an encroachment upon the prerogative of the historian, on the ground that we wish the indulgent public to have a correct idea of the historical, as well as the physical and social, nature of Queensland. We would, therefore, throw ourselves again on the leniency of our readers, while we trace, as succinctly as possible, the origin and growth of the separation movement.

For some years previous to the year 1851 the colonists of Port Philip had agitated the question of separation from the colony of New South Wales, and in that year their efforts were crowned with success, their district being, by imperial decree, erected into a separate colony under the name of Victoria. The instigator and prime mover in this matter had been the Rev. Dr. Lang; and at the commencement of the same year he organized an agitation for a similar dismemberment of the Moreton Bay or northern districts.

The inhabitants of those districts, groaning under the habitual neglect of a distantly removed and selfish government, were not slow to respond to the call of the agitator. The first meeting to consider the subject, which was held in January 1851, resulted in the despatch of petitions to the throne, praying for an immediate separation from New South Wales, and an establishment as an independent state. They enumerated among the general grievances, the remoteness of the district from the seat of government, the inadequate representation in the legislature, the confirmed neglect and inattention of their rulers to their requirements, the total absorption of their revenues for the improvement of the capital, and the impossibility to procure the outlay of any money on absolutely necessary works; in fact the total subversion of the rights of the inhabitants, and the general inconvenience experienced by a connexion with New South Wales.

Much as the consummation was desiderated by all parties in the district the people were divided into two bodies in the views which they took of the subject; and each party drew up its own petition, and forwarded it to England. One faction, and by far the most numerous and intelligent, demanded a "free" separation, with the untrammelled administration of their own affairs; while the other, principally composed of the squatters in the interior, were contented with petitioning for separation, with a reversion to the old penal system. Their object being to have convicts sent to the new colony, and to procure their labour by the old iniquitous "assigning" system.