After our three days tossing at sea, I was, however, glad to be on shore again; so, having seen my boxes safely deposited in the Californian baggage depôt, I proceeded into the town and secured apartments for the few days I was to remain in Sydney.
From what I have already said of the approach to the landing, it will be inferred that the natural situation of Sydney is very fine. It stands upon a ridge of sandstone rock, which runs down into the bay in numerous ridges or spines of land or rock, between which lie the natural harbours of the place; and these are so deep, that vessels of almost any burden may load and unload at the projecting wharves. Thus Sydney possesses a very large extent of deep water frontage, and its wharfage and warehouse accommodation is capable of enlargement to almost any extent. Of the natural harbours formed by the projecting spines of rock into the deep water, the most important are Wooloomooloo Bay, Farm Cove, Sydney Cove, and Darling Harbour.
From the waterside, the houses, ranged in streets, rise like so many terraces up to the crown of the ridges,—the main streets occupying the crests and flanks of two or three of the highest. One of these, George Street, is a remarkably fine street, about two miles long, containing many handsome buildings.
My first knowledge of Sydney was acquired in a stroll up George Street. We noticed the original old market-place, bearing the date of 1793; a quaint building, with queer old-fashioned domes, all shingle-roofed. A little further on, we came to a large building in course of erection—the new Town Hall, built of a yellowish sort of stone. Near it is the English Cathedral—a large and elegant structure. Further on, is the new Roman Catholic Cathedral,—the original cathedral in Hyde Park having been burnt down some time ago.
Altogether, Sydney has a much older look than Melbourne. It has grown up at longer intervals, and does not look so spic and span new. The streets are much narrower and more irregular—older-fashioned, and more English in appearance—occasioned, doubtless, by its slower growth and its more hilly situation. But it would also appear as if there were not the same go-ahead spirit in Sydney that so pre-eminently characterises her sister city. Instead of the splendidly broad, well-paved, and well-watered streets of Melbourne, here they are narrow, ill-paved, and dirty. Such a thing as the miserable wooden hut which serves for a post-office would not be allowed to exist for a day at Melbourne. It is the original office, and has never been altered or improved since it was first put up. I must, however, acknowledge that a new post-office is in course of erection; but it shows the want of public spirit in the place that the old shanty should have been allowed to stand so long.
The railway terminus, at the end of George Street, is equally discreditable. It is, without exception, the shabbiest, dirtiest shed of the kind I have ever seen. They certainly need a little of the Victorian spirit in Sydney. The Melbourne people, with such a site for a city, would soon have made it one of the most beautiful places in the world. As it is, nothing can surpass its superb situation; the view over the harbour from some of the higher streets being unequalled,—the numerous ships lying still, as if asleep on the calm waters of the bay beneath, whilst the rocky promontories all round it, clothed with verdure, are dotted with the villas and country mansions of the Sydney merchants.
One of the busiest parts of Sydney is down by the quays, where a great deal of shipping business is carried on. There are dry docks, patent slips, and one floating dock; though floating docks are of minor importance here, where the depth of water along shore is so great, and the rise and fall of the tide is so small. Indeed, Sydney Harbour may be regarded as one immense floating dock. The Australasian Steam Navigation Company have large ship-building and repairing premises at Pyrmont, which give employment to a large number of hands. Certainly, the commanding position of Sydney, and the fact of its being the chief port of a great agricultural and pastoral country in the interior, hold out the promise of great prosperity for it in the future.
Every visitor to Sydney of course makes a point of seeing the Government House and the Domain, for it is one of the principal sights of the place. The Government buildings and park occupy the double-headed promontory situated between Wooloomooloo Bay and Sydney Cove. The Government House is a handsome and spacious castellated building, in every way worthy of the colony; the views from some parts of the grounds being of almost unparalleled beauty. There are nearly four miles of drives in the park, through alternate cleared and wooded grounds,—sometimes opening upon cheerful views of the splendid harbour, then skirting the rocky shores, or retreating inland amidst shadowy groves and grassy dells. The grounds are open to the public, and the entrances being close upon the town and suburbs, this public park of Sydney is one that for convenience and beauty, perhaps no capital in the world surpasses.
The Botanical Gardens are situated in what is called the outer Domain. We enter the grounds under a long avenue of acacias and sycamores, growing so close together as to afford a complete shade from the noonday heat. At the end of the avenue, we came upon a splendid specimen of the Norfolk Island pine, said to be the largest and finest tree out of the island itself. After resting for a time under its delicious shade, we strolled on through other paths overhung with all sorts of flowering plants; then, passing through an opening in the wall, a glorious prospect of the bay suddenly spread out before us. The turf was green down to the water's edge, and interspersed with nicely-kept flower beds, with here and there a pretty clump of trees.
Down by the water side is a broad esplanade—the most charming of promenades—running all round the beautiful little bay which it encloses. Tropical and European shrubs grow in profusion on all sides; an English rose-tree in full bloom growing alongside a bamboo; while, at another place, a banana throws its shadow over a blooming bunch of sweet pea, and a bell-flowered plant overhangs a Michaelmas daisy. A fine view of the harbour and shipping is obtained from a part of the grounds where Lady Macquarie's chair—a hollow place in a rock—is situated;—itself worth coming a long way to see. Turning up the gardens again, we come upon a monkey-house, an aviary, and—what interested me more than all—an enclosed lawn in which were numerous specimens of the kangaroo tribe, from the "Old Boomer" standing six feet high, down to the Rock kangaroo not much bigger than a hare. We hung about, watching the antics of the monkeys and the leapings of the kangaroos until it was time to take our departure.