The struggle continued apace between the contending factions on the one hand, and with the governments of Great Britain and New South Wales on the other. The pro-convict party, who had established a weekly newspaper to advocate their cause, gradually diminished, until eventually their zeal expired, and they succumbed to popular feeling, leaving the body of free separationists united and energetic. Petition after petition continued to be poured at the feet of Her most gracious Majesty, who at last condescended to listen to the prayer of her loyal though distant subjects. In the year 1855, by an act passed in the Imperial Parliament, entitled, "The Constitution Act of New South Wales," right was reserved to her Majesty to separate from that colony any portion of its northern territory she, by her ministers, might deem expedient. It was then made manifest to the colonists that some hope existed of the desired event taking place, and their importunities consequently increased. In July 1856, the then Secretary of State for the Colonies (Mr. Labouchere) intimated, in a despatch to the Governor of New South Wales, that her Majesty's ministers considered that the time had arrived when the dismemberment should be effected, and suggested that the 30th parallel of south latitude should be fixed upon as the boundary of the two colonies. About this parallel a natural line of demarcation exists in the form of a mountain range, and at no other part of the coast could so eligible a division be made.
The magnates in Sydney perceiving that, notwithstanding all their strenuous opposition, separation was determined upon considered it useless to further attempt its prevention; but they were, nevertheless, sanguine of their ability to mar the fair prospects of the new colony. The thought of losing the revenue of so large a district rankled in their bosoms, and the idea of procuring an alteration in the boundary line, by a removal farther away from them, suggested itself to their minds. Confident in their success and the time for an execution of their machinations, that would be afforded them by the usual circumlocutions of government, they forthwith entered upon their work.
One of the districts embraced in the proposed new colony was the Clarence river, which was only second in importance to that of Moreton Bay itself, and which comprised a coast-line of upwards of 120 miles, and a country that extended nearly double that distance inland. This, then, they set to work to retain; and, though the inhabitants themselves of the debateable ground were strongly averse to a continued connexion with the parent colony, and desired annexation to the new one, a petition was presented to the legislature, purporting to be from the residents of that district, and praying for the maintenance of their existing relationship with New South Wales. The opprobrium attached to the concoction of this petition is due to the then member of the legislature for the New England district; for through his chicanery the signatures were obtained and the people deceived. It was represented to them as for a local assize court, and their signatures obtained on blank sheets of paper, which were afterwards attached to the genuine anti-separation petition and laid before the government of the colony, by whom it was forwarded to the British secretary.
This fraud was shortly afterwards detected by the parties cajoled, who exposed the deception practised upon them, and eventually petitioned the crown with a similar view. But, too late: the first had reached the home government as a genuine document, and the result may be imagined; for, combining such a strong demonstration of public feeling as the petition appeared to do with the biassed representations of the Sydney government, the crown had no other alternative but to alter the boundary originally intended Mr. Labouchere (dated just one year after his former despatch) then informed the Governor of New South Wales that her Majesty's ministers had determined to separate the northern colony at the 28th (instead of the 30th) parallel of south latitude. There the matter rested until the year 1860, when the proclamation calling into existence the colony of Queensland was read in the capital city of Brisbane by the first governor, Sir George Ferguson Bowen.
We would not have pursued this theme had it not been to explain the ferment in which Tom Rainsfield found the good people of Brisbane when he visited their town, as we have said, in the summer of 1857; and, amidst the agitation of the public mind which absorbed all thought and attention, we will leave him for the present to pursue his business.
CHAPTER IX.
"Hark! there be murmurs heard in Lara's hall,
A sound—a voice—a shriek—a fearful call!
A long loud shriek—and silence—did they hear
That frantic echo burst the sleeping ear?"
Byron.
At a certain spot on the Darling Downs approaching towards their northern extremity, and where the country divides the eastern from the western water-sheds, a party was encamped for the night round their fire; on which preparations were being made by a civilized black for the evening meal of white men, who lay stretched on the ground in the full enjoyment of their "doodeens." The culinary operator was Joey, and the recumbent beings were his master and the shepherds, who had progressed thus far with a flock of sheep, on their way from New England to Fern Vale.
The weather that had spread devastation over the face of the country, was equally fatal in its effects to the flock of our hero. He had attempted to force their march so as to reach his destination before their entire destruction, but was at last constrained to halt in a state, both to man and beast, of perfect exhaustion. He had been the more anxious to reach his own station as he was aware that, after the long and severe drought the district had been visited with, a flood might be expected as the inevitable consequence; and that if he were caught in it the strong probability was that he would lose the remaining half of his flock. Further progression, however, for his exhausted sheep, he saw was, at least for a time, perfectly hopeless; and he felt his only alternative was to wait for the rain, which from the portensions of the sky, was not far distant. Therefore a rude hut, or arborous shelter of boughs and saplings, was erected to shield him and his companions from the rays of the sun, and they waited with what patience they could assume for the pluvial blessing so much prayed for all over the country.