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The following extract is from John Dunmore Lang’s An Historical and Statistical Account of New South Wales, from the founding of the colony in 1788 to the present day, Vol. II, (Fourth Ed.); Sampson Low, Marston Low, Low & Searle, London, 1875.
pp. 267-279.
“THE counties to the southward and south-westward of the metropolitan county of Cumberland, are those of Camden, Argyle, St. Vincent, Murray, and King; the united areas of which amount ot 10,886 square miles; and their population to 64,632. But with these counties are connected the squatting districts, or unsettled territories beyond the boundaries in these directions; viz. Maneiro [Monaro] Plains, the Murrumbidgee and the Lower Darling, comprising an area of 115,232 square miles, that is, an extent of country equal to the whole area of the United Kingdom, with a population, however of only 41,888 persons, that is, less than one for every 2 1/2 square miles. The quantity of stock in these counties and squatting districts together, up to the 31st March, 1873, was as follows, viz. : -
“Horses . . . . . . 86,195
“Horned cattle . . . . 640,967
“Pigs . . . . . . 88,714
“Sheep . . . . . . 7,789,659
“The eastern division of the county of Camden, or the district of Illawarra, and the county of St. Vincent, being both situated on the sea coast, are connected with the capital by the great highway of the Pacific; there being a regular steam communication between Sydney and Wollongong, the chief town in the district of Illawarra, as well as with all the other rapidly rising towns to the southward. This section of the southern counties has therefore very little connexion with the country westward; which is separated from it by the coast range of mountains; the land along the coast being but little elevated above the ocean level, while the country behind the coast range is generally 2000 feet above the level of the sea. The communication with both of these sections of country by land is by the Great Southern Road and Railway as far as Campbelltown, an inland town, thirty-three miles from Sydney.
“For the first thirteen miles the Great Southern Road from Sydney is also the Great Western Road across the Blue Mountains, the two great roads diverging from each other at the Parramatta Junction. For the next nine miles, to Liverpool, the road is exceedingly uninteresting; the country on either side being a dense forest, and the soil for the most part poor and unproductive. Perhaps the most interesting object on the old road is the Lansdowne Bridge, a handsome structure of cut stone, erected by convict labour during the administration of Sir Richard Bourke, under the able superintendence of the late Mr. Lennox, a Scotch architect and engineer, whom I have already mentioned. The bridge consists of a single arch, of 110 feet span. The town of Liverpool is situated at the head of navigation of George’s River, which empties itself into Botany Bay. Formerly the town was but indifferently supplied with fresh water, as the tide flowed to a considerable distance above it. But a substantial dam having been thrown across the river, the level of the water has been raised seven feet above the dam [Constructed by William Harvie Christie], and the salt water below it prevented from mingling with the fresh, while a passage has been formed to the the opposite bank. Liverpool was founded and named - rather absurdly, I think, by Governor Macquarie. It used to be a dull, lifeless, stagnant sort of place, as different as possible from the great commercial city whose name it so ambitiously bears; for after an existence of more than half a century, the population of the Australian Liverpool is only 1338. One is never disappointed in these Australian colonies, on arriving at such a town as Parramatta, or Wollongong, or Jamberoo, or Berrima, or Gundagai, or any other town with an aboriginal name; for as in all likelihood there is no toher place of the same name on the face of the earth, there is no other town that can have a right to compare it with. But when one goes to ‘Liverpool,’ or ‘Windsor,’ or ‘Richmond,’ forsooth [in truth, indeed], and finds it a small insignificant village, he cannot help saying to himself, -
‘O what a falling off is there !’
“and the place actually looks much worse than it really is, simply from its unfortunate name.
“I confess I never had my classical ideas and associations so rudely broken in upon, as when, in travelling up the beautiful Hudson River, from New York to the city of Troy, the boat stopped successively at two paltry American towns, which I was told were Rome and Athens ! I did not feel at all disappointed with Troy; for besides that we knew much less of the original, the American edition of the city of Priam was a really respectable and thriving town of 20,000 inhabitants - well planned, well built, and eminently prosperous as a place of trade, as may be supposed from the fact of its being at the time not more than thirty years old. But I feel absolutely offended at the sort of classical sacrilege which Jonathon had perpetrated upon the memory of the great cities of Rome and Athens, by giving their venerable names to his two insignificant villages on the Hudson. I actually thought it had been done for the express purpose of lowering antiquity and the classics in the estimation of the Young American, and teaching him to say, somewhat contemptuously, -
“ ‘Urbem quam dicunt Romam, Meliboee, putavi
Huic nostrae simileum.’ * [Footnote - * ‘I guess, mister, the city folks call Rome ain’t half like this of our’n.’ - American Tanslation.]
“Besides, there is often a positive inconvenience in this system of colonial nomeclature. For example, a letter containing a bank-note was put into the post-office at Sydney, addressed to somebody at Liverpool; but as the letter did not specify where Liverpool was situated, it was thrown, in the hurry of business, into the mail for England, where, after having arrived in due time, and been refused by every person of the name it bore in the great city of Liverpool, it was opened at the General Post Office in London, and found to be intended fro some person in Liverpool of New South Wales, whom it reached at last after having first made a circuit of the globe.
“Insignificant, however, as it is, my earliest recollections of New South Wales are indissolubly connected with this locality. On my first arrival in the colony, in the year 1823, a younger brother of mine was in charge of the Commissariat at Liverpool, which was then a considerable depot, both for convicts and troops. He occupied a brick verandah cottage in the town, with a little plat of garden-ground, and a white gate in front; his whole establishment consisting of a convict man-servant. The next cottage, exactly like it, was occupied by the officer in charge of the detachment at Liverpool - Mr. M’Nab, of the 3rd Regiment or Buffs - whose establishment consisted of his orderly, one of the soldiers of the Regiment. Mr. M’Nab used to dine occasionally with my brother; and on one of my visits to perform divine service in the town, I was invited, along with my brother, to dine with Mr. M’Nab, who was a genuine warm-hearted Scotch Highlander. His orderly, however, had but recently arrived in the colony, and was not initiated at the time into the mystery of colonial cookery; and, accordingly, when a piece of excellent colonial ration-beef which had been roasted for our dinner was uncovered on the table, it was found to be all alive ! There is a large fly in the colony which, in summer, is sure to alight upon fresh meat, especially when roasted, if not carefully covered, and to deposit instantaneously a numerous offspring of live maggots on its surface. This was one of those accidents which are not uncommon in colonial life, even in the best regulated establishments, and it only served to afford us a little amusement at the expense of the poor orderly, who easily supplied us with a substitute for the roast beef in a ‘cold collation.’
Mr. M’Nab was only an ensign at the time, although the oldest in the British army. He belonged originally to the Scotch Brigade, a corps which was raised in the beginning of last century, during the wars of the great Marlborough, but which had always refused to take particular number as one of the regiments of the Line [General service]. Towards the close of last year, however, when all such corps were obliged to take a number, the Scotch Brigade, although one of the oldest Regiments in the service, had to take one of the highest numbers; and when the army was reduced. after the general peace, it was consequently one of the first to be disbanded. Mr. M’Nab, however, had shortly before got into the service again, from half-pay; but he was then still only an ensign. As one of the officers of the old Scotch Brigade, he still retained, as a cherished recollection of his former corps, part of its old silver plate which the officers had divided among themselves when it was finally broken up. * [Footnote - * Mr. M’Nab afterwards went to India with his regiment, where he attained the rank of Captain. He then returned to England, sold out, and, having a taste for agricultural pursuits, rented a farm near Callander, in Scotland - his native place - where he died many years since, much regretted. My brother died of an inflammatory fever, in the year 1825, during my own absence in England.]
“All these recollections crowded into my memory as the mail drove rapidly, on the occasion of my last journey to the southern interior, before the introduction of Railways, past the two brick verahdah cottages, with their little gardens and white gates in front, in the dull town of Liverpool.
“The distance from Liverpool to Campbelltown is thirteen miles; and along the whole intervening line of road there are neat cottages at irregular intervals belonging to respectable resident proprietors, the appearance of which greatly enlivens the scenery. About five miles from Liverpool the road skirts along and than crosses the rich and romantic valley of Bunbury-curran, whose relationship to the family of Trap is sufficiently obvious. In the immediate vicinity of Campbelltown, the country, which consists of a succession of hills and dales, has much more of an English aspect than most other parts of the territory, and the proportion of cleared land is very considerable; Campbelltown having been the centre point to which the efforts of Governor Macquarie [Macquarie’s Journals] were long and systematically directed, in attempting to form a body of small farmers out of the emancipated convict population of the colony. The district of Campelltown, however, was long unfortunately situated in regard to water; the soil of the surrounding country being strongly impregnated with alum, which renders the water brackish. But the evil was not without remedy; and a substantial proprietor, the late Mr. Thomas Rose, of Mount Gilead, deserved well of the colonial public in demonstrating the efficacy of that remedy, and the practicability of its general application. In the neighbourhood of Campbelltown, and in many other parts of the colony, the country is intersected by numerous watercourses, which in the rainy season contain running streams of considerable size, but which are quite dry at all other times. Across one of these watercourses, Mr. Rose formed a strong embankment sufficiently broad at the surface to serve the additional purpose of a cart-road from bank to bank. The result equalled his highest anticipations; the embankment permanently dammed up a large quantity of water of excellent quality, sufficient to afford an abundant supply at all seasons, besides forming an ornamental sheet of water in the vicinity of his residence. Water dammed in up this way, or even collected in large basins formed for the purpose, is not liable to become putrid in New South Wales, as it frequently does in similar circumstances in Great Britain. There are many farms in the colony that have no other water than what is thus collected from the surface during heavy rains in natural basins, or water-holes, as they are called by the colonists; the water in such holes or basins remaining pure and wholesome to the last drop. It would be difficult to account for the formation of these natural basins or reservoirs, some of which are of great depth, and have more the appearance of artificial than of natural productions; but their existence in all parts of the territory is a blessing of incalculable value to the colonial community. [This whole paragraph, or section, has been taken verbatim from Samuel Butler’s The Hand-Book for Australian Emigrants; being a descriptive History of Australia, and Containing an Account of the Climate, Soil, and Natural Productions of New South Wales, South Australia, and Swan River Settlement published by W.R. McPhun, Glasgow, 1839. The following sections also contain paragraphs paraphrased from the same work.]
“About three miles beyond Campbelltown to the right is the diary-farm or estate of Glenlee, the property of the late William Howe, Esq., J.P., an old colonist, of the year 1818. There is a large extent of cleared land on the Glenlee Estate, the greater part of which is laid down with English grasses; the paddocks being separated from each other by hedges of quince or lemon-tree - the usual but seldom-used colonial substitutes for the hawthorn. The country is of an undulating character, and the scenery from Glenlee House - a handsome two-storey house, built partly of brick and partly of a drab-coloured sandstone - is rich and agreeably diversified. On the opposite bank of the Cowpasture River [Nepean River], which formed the boundary of Mr. Howe’s estate, is the much more extensive estate of Camden, the property of the late John Macarthur, Esq., the patriarch of Australian wool. His only surviving son, the Hon. Sir William Macarthur, Member of the Legislative Council of the Colony, has erected a handsome mansion on the Camden estate, and the extensive gardens of the property are a model to the colony. The vineyard at Camden is also one of the the most extensive and best managed in the country. There are many other estates, however, besides those I have mentioned, belonging to respectable resident proprietors in this part of the colonial territory.
“The direct distance from Sydney to the seaport town of Wollongong, in the district of Illawarra, or as it is frequently called, the Five Islands, from the five small islands on that part of the coast, is not greater than forty-five miles; and the communication with the capital, except for travellers on horseback, is managed chiefly by water. The intervening country being intersected, however, by numerous ravines, as well as by several arms of the sea, the road to Illawarra describes two sides of an equilateral triangle, of which the coast line forms the base - running for a certain distance to the south-westward, and then turning to the south-eastward after heading the ravines. The distance by land is therefore about seventy miles, the road to Illawarra diverging from the Great Southern Road at Campbelltown.
“The population of Campbelltown does not exceed 1000. It has places of worship - all of a creditable exterior - of the Episcopalian, Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Congregational, and Wesleyan communions for the town and district; and the inhabitants are now plentifully supplied with water in the way suggested to them by Mr. Rose.
“From Campbelltown to Appin, on the road to Illawarra, a distance of eleven miles, the country continues to exhibit the same pleasing appearance of fertility, and the proportion of cleared and cultivated land continues very considerably.
“For many a long mile from Appin the country is exceedingly sterile and uninteresting; but, on gaining the summit of the Illawarra Mountain - a lofty and precipitous range running parallel to the coast, and supporting the elevated table-land to the westward - the view is indescribably magnificent: for all at once, the vast Pacific Ocean, stretching far and wide to the eastward, bursts upon the view, while almost right under foot it is seen lashing the black basaltic rocks that form the iron boundary to the westward, like an angry lion lashing the bars of his cage with his bushy tail, or dashing its huge breakers on the intervening sandy-beaches in immense masses of white foam, and with a loud and deafening noise. In short, after the long and uninteresting ride from Appin, the scenery from the summit of the Illawarra mountain is overpoweringly sublime.
“The district of Illawarra, consists of a belt of land of about 150,000 acres in extent, enclosed between the mountains and the ocean; increasing in breadth to the southward, and though generally thickly wooded in its natural state, of exuberant fertility. The descent of the mountain, which is probably about fifteen hundred feet high, was formerly the most precipitous I have seen used in the colony for a road; but there is now an excellent road (formed by convict labour before the transportation system was discontinued), along the face of the mountain, and the descent is comparatively easy.
“I had occasion to visit the district of Illawarra along with my late brother, Mr. A. Lang, M.L.C., of Dunmore, who had never been in that part of the colony before, in the month of May, 1836, before the present road was formed. After leaving the stage-coach at Campbelltown, we were detained for several hours before we could procure horses for the remainder of our journey, and it was consequently nearly dark ere we reached the summit of the Illawarra mountain. We attempted the descent, however, in the darkness; but after having got down a little way, we found it too hazardous either to proceed or to turn back, and were accordingly obliged to spend the remainder of the night, which was extremely cold, on the mountain, sitting at the roots of trees, for nearly twelve hours, with our horses’ bridles in our hands.
“There used to be a resting-place for travellers ascending the mountain by the old route, about half-way up, called the big tree: it was a dead tree of immense size, the internal parts of which had been consumed by fire, although it was still about a hundred feet in height. My fellow-traveller and myself, on another visit I made to the district, entered into the hollow, into which there is an entrance on one side as wide as a church-door, with both our horses; and, although the latter were both of the largest size of riding horses in the colony, I perceived that there was room enough for a third rider and his steed. My fellow-traveller told me, indeed, that on a former journey, he had actually been one of three horsemen, all of whom had, together with their horses, been accommodated within the big tree at the same time.
“The vegetation of the district of Illawarra, is very peculiar, and has more of a tropical character than that of other districts in the colony considerably farther to the northward. This may arise partly from its being sheltered from the cold westerly winds of the winter months, by the mountains that run parallel to the coast. I presume, however, it is owing chiefly to the nature of the soil, which is a beautiful black mould, consisting of disintegrated trap rock, the district exhibiting various indications of volcanic origin. The peculiarity I have just mentioned is observable even on the mountain, where the rich variety of the vegetation contrasts beautifully with the wildness of the scenery; the fern-tree shooting up its rough stem, of about the thickness of the oar of a ship’s long-boat, to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and then suddenly shooting out a number of leaves in every direction, each four or five feet in length, and exactly similar in appearance to the leaf of the common fern or braken [Bracken Fern]; while palms of various botanical species are ever and anon seen shooting up their tall slender branchless stems to the height of seventy or a hundred feet, and then forming a large canopy of leaves, each of which bends gracefully outwards and then downwards, like a Prince of Wales’ feather, the whole tree strongly resembling a Chinese mandarin’s umbrella. Baron Hugel, an Austrian nobleman, who resided for some time in New South Wales during the year 1834, devoting himself to scientific researches, remarked that the scenery and vegetation of the district of Illawarra strongly reminded him of scenes he had visited in the interior of Ceylon.
“The species of palm most frequently met with in the the low grounds of Illawarra is the fan-palm or cabbage-tree; and in some parts of the district there are grassy meadows, of fifty to a hundred acres in extent, quite destitute of timber, and surrounded with a border of lofty palms of this most beautiful species. Another species of palm, abounding in the district, and equally graceful in its outline, is called by the black natives, the Bangalo [Bangalow Palm]. The cedar of Illawarra I have already mentioned; the nettle-tree, which is also met with in the brushes, is not only seen by the traveller, but occasionally felt and remembered, for its name is highly descriptive; and the sassafras with its odoriferous bark abounds in the jungles. The lofty eucalyptus and the iron-bark tree, the swamp-oaks and the weeping mimosas of the other parts of the territory, abound also in Illawarra; and the undergrowth of wild vines, parasitical plants, and shrubbery, is rich and endlessly diversified.
“The town of Wollongong is beautifully situated on the plain between the coast range of mountains and the sea. It has places of worship of a very creditable character in point of architecture for the Episcoplian, Presbyterian, Congregational, Wesleyan, and Roman Catholic communions fro the town and neighbourhood; and a Public School of superior character, which was established as a model school for the district during the administration of Sir Richard Bourke. The harbour - such as it is - was constructed at great expense, about the same period, by convict labour; there being a natural ledge of black basaltic rocks projecting diagonally into the Pacific close to the town, behind which a basin has been excavated and defended by solid masonry.
“The population of Illawarra is chiefly agricultural, growing grain and potatoes, with much dairy produce , for the Sydney market; the rich indigenous grasses of the country, mixed with white clover which has completely overspread the district, being admirably adapted for the feeding of dairy cattle.
“The district of Illawarra is therefore occupied chiefly for dairy farming, for which it deservedly bears a superior character; the amount of dairy produce of all kinds which it exports to Sydney by steamers plying along the coast being very great.
“The export of butter alone, for consumption in Sydney, amounted in value, many years ago, to not less than 1000l. per week. At the same time, a settler had produced, from his bees, about two tons of honey, which he had sold to a brewery in the district at 3d. per pound.
“I have already observed that another line of railway, besides those already existing, has been projected, and will doubtless be very soon carried out, as the present Government are favourable to the project, between Sydney and the towns of Wollongong and Kiama, and the Shoalhaven River, along the coast to the southward. This very beautiful part of the country, which has hitherto been regarded as the colony, and which forms the district of Illawarra, lying between the coast range of mountains and the Pacific. These mountains, as I have stated above, abound in coal, which is dug out by means of simple adits into the face of the mountains; and one of the objects of the projected railway, besides the service for passengers and goods, is to convey the coal of Illawarra to the deep water in the harbour of Port Jackson, behind the town of Sydney, as the harbours on this part of the coast are of an inferior character. The population of the town of Wollongong is 1297, and that of the district 5699; the population of the district of Kiama being 5750 [?].”
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