Tag Archives: Governor Macquarie

New Norfolk

New Norfolk is a Tasmanian inland town which sells itself as the Capital of the Derwent Valley. The undulating countryside around and the more majestic peaks in the distance make this town one of the most beautifully set in the region. The town’s social and cultural history is rich and the architectural remnants are everywhere to be seen.

The website at http://www.newnorfolk.org/ contains much interesting information and I particularly like one of the image pages where an early photo of a building or location sits next to a more recent photo in the same spot.  From this website you learn that ‘New Norfolk was the third planned settlement to be undertaken in Tasmania, after Hobart and Launceston.’ 

On the history page, you will learn about the connection between the Norfolk Island penal colony and the settlement of New Norfolk.

‘New Norfolk was at first known as “The Hills” because of its setting among hills, valleys and gentle streams.   In 1811 Governor Macquarie came to visit Van Diemen’s Land.   He mapped out a town site and named the town “Elizabeth Town” (after his wife) in the District of New Norfolk.  The name did not catch on although it was used on and off from 1811 to 1825, but the local settlers, wanting to preserve a link with their old island home, won the day and the town was officially known as “New” Norfolk. The stream called the Thames by the locals, was renamed the “Lachlan” (pronounced Locklon) by Governor Macquarie (in honour of his son). However, although it retains the name to this very day, it is pronounced as “Lacklan” by the locals, much to the confusion of newcomers.’

I strongly recommend this site for its extensive information and superb historical photographs, drawings and reproductions of lithographs.

A second site at http://www.discovertasmania.com.au/about/regions-of-tasmania/hobart-and-south/new-norfolk offers additional information and recommendations for things to look for. when visiting the area. In particular, a convict Betty King/Mrs Elizabeth Thackeray was mentioned as being the first European woman to step onto Australian soil.  You can read more about her at http://monumentaustralia.org.au/themes/people/settlement/display/70623-betty-king and it seems she was buried in a Methodist Church cemetery on Back River Road in New Norfolk (as per the map below). Unfortunately my Stage 15 of the walk, when the weather begins to warm next Spring, will not deviate from the Derwent River to look at this – but if you are visiting, maybe the site will be worth a look.

Map of Betty Kings memorial New Norfolk

My favourite time of the year to visit New Norfolk is autumn when the leaves turn red and gold so that the town almost seems to be on fire in places. Quite wonderful. Notwithstanding this, the other seasons of the year offer their own special characteristics, making the town always interesting to visit. And when the weather fails, you can immerse yourself in the many antique shops.

Did I feel uneasy walking alone past Murphys Flat on Stage 14 of my walk along the Derwent River? Answers and extraordinary stories.

Yesterday one of my posts introduced Addington Lodge as a Haunted House and since then a few readers have wanted to know more.

Photo of Addington Lodge

The photograph above is of Addington Lodge, Granton, apparently a former residence of Governor Arthur – from the collection of Linc Tasmania

In Hobart’s The Mercury newspaper of Saturday 6 July 1935 (http://trove.nla.gov.au/ndp/del/article/30094484?searchTerm=Anthony+Geiss), J Moore-Robinson wrote his version of the history of the House and area (then not known as Murphys Flat rather as Marsh Farm). A few descriptions and some extraordinary stories of what happened to a hop picker and others, create a feeling of how the crumbling remains of Addington seemed at that time.

The author talked about people “who visit southern Tasmania who have not seen the Haunted House but have been intrigued by its shady reputation and shadowy tradition. Empty and forlorn it stands to-day near the road-side on the way to New Norfolk, a gaunt spectre of a vague past, a meet  and fitting rendezvous for apparitions which, if the poets speak truly, steal at the witching hour of midnight, from yawning graves and uneasy vaults, to curdle the blood of humans. Motorists roll by unthinking at all hours of the day and night, but pedestrians, I am told, walk warily, or walk not at all past the place.”

Did I walk warily? Well yes I did. But my caution was the result of the stream of traffic pouring down the highway a couple of feet next to me.  Sometimes, in some situations, my body can feel ’something’ about a location, but with the incessant roar of vehicles close to my left ear, the brittle wind in my face, and the chilly temperatures I was charging on northwards and gave no thought to ghosts of the past.  Perhaps the bright hard sunlight kept them at bay.

The newspaper article continued: “The existing owner, Mr. F. B. Rathbone of Mt. Nassau, tells me that the place has been rather a bane and an expense to him, and he will not be sorry when nothing remains but a heap of rubble foundations. I asked him why. ‘I have lived in the place myself for weeks at a time,’ he said. ‘My son lived in it for more than a year. Neither of us saw anything uncanny, yet nobody will take it. It has a bad name, and I think it better to let it fall to ruins’. It appears that long before the war, folk were apprehensive and the Haunted House, lacking regular tenants, frequently was empty. Mr. Rathbone said that there are no spectres, never were any and that the noises and apparitions came from a loose board in the roof and from rats, rolling-apples and potatoes in a cupboard.”

But is this true? The newspaper article continued and included a number of stories which might explain the haunting reputation, and which might even be factual.

The hop-picker story

“Shortly before the embers of discontent of South Africa burst into the flames of war, a hop-picker having drawn his cash at Bushy Park was ’Waltzing Matilda’ to Hobart.  He was weary with tramping the hot and dusty road but, doubtless he looked forward, with unfeigned pleasure to the flesh pots and foaming tankards, of the city. As the sun set, he came, unaware of its story, to the Haunted House.  Shadows deepened on the nearby river as the hop picker, pushed open an unfastened door, entered the fateful house, ate his cold mutton and bread, washed it down with part of a billy-can of beer purchased at New Norfolk, spread his blanket on the floor, and slept the sleep of the weary. Presently he stirred and rubbed his eyes and, as he looked, the very marrow froze in his bones. His hair stood on end and his heart seemed to stay its pulsing, for rising before him in the doorway he saw a ghastly thing. ‘Thing’ is the right word, for the hop-picker had not seen or dreamed of anything like it. Thin legs, curved, and bent, supported an enormous body which, though it seemed to be clothed, was still visible to the trembling mortal who saw the apparition’s internal organs hideously pulsing and distended. Its neck, gashed from ear to ear, was unable to support the head which sagged horribly from one side to the other. Blood dropped from the severed jugular and the baleful gleams from the staring eyes pierced the semi-darkness and seemed to impale the terrified watcher. A butcher’s knife was clasped tightly in the spectre’s right hand, and hand and knife were horribly red.

In a crouching pose, the creature swayed toward the ‘hopper’, whose limbs seemed fettered by unseen manacles, from which he writhed and struggled to free himself as the menacing and blood stained figure approached. A foul smelling breath stung his nostrils and the knife was within striking distance of his heart, when, with a wrench that would have done credit to Samson, the ‘hopper’ broke free, dodged the ghost, darted through the doorway and, looking neither right nor left, sped down the road, a white and terror-stricken figure clad only in a shirt. Feeling rather than seeing the ‘thing’ close behind him, he essayed a short cut over a bank, slipped on a stone, gashed his head on a sharp rock, and lapsed into blessed insensibility. When he came to, he found himself prone on the cold floor of the room in which he supped. His blanket lay in a disordered heap. His fingers bled where he had scratched and torn at the floorboards. A lump on the side of his head betokened a meeting with some foreign body. Looking around cautiously the ‘hopper’ could see nothing of his ghastly visitor but, thinking discretion the better part of valour, gathered his belongings, moved tremulously through the door to spend the remaining hours of darkness in vigil by the roadside.”

The hopper’s ghost

“It is said that the hopper’s ghost is the spiritual remnant of a whaler, who, wandering further afield than usual, met at the Golden Fleece (for that was the sign of the haunted house 100 years ago) a bushranger disguised as an honest man. The pair spent some happy hours until the Tasmanian Robin Hood, seeing his chance expertly slit the throat of his ‘friend’ and disappeared with his wallet.”

Lady with the broken heart

Another story has to do with a young and beautiful woman who, betrayed by the usual dashing cavalier, languished in spite of the kindly protection of the landlady until, with a broken heart and saying a prayer for bitter revenge, she stabbed herself, and so went away to brighter, and, I hope, happier fields.

The landlord and his landlady

Still another tale is told about the landlord and the landlady, when the place was the William the Fourth hostelry. This couple, having decided to essay life together without bothering the clergy lived happily for a while, but only for a while. Quarrel followed quarrel, and in these the woman usually came out on top for she was bigger, quicker and stronger, although the landlord had been a soldier and had seen wars, having been with that army which ‘swore terribly in Flanders’, he became tired of being the vanquished, and one day finding his ‘wife’ asleep, stabbed her.  Not content with that, he drove a spike into her head, cut out her tongue, slit her throat and not being quite sure at this stage that she was really dead, and poured some poison down her throat. He then tenderly buried her and was caught and duly hanged which seems to be the only really proper and moral part of the story.”

The Golden Fleece’s reputation as an Inn

“It was during Fitzgerald’s term as licensee that, according to legend and tradition, the place achieved its notoriety, which, considering the grounds on which he was later pilloried is not surprising. It is certain that the ‘Golden Fleece’ had an evil reputation, and that the name was truly descriptive of the ‘fleecing’ accomplished within its walls, and the ‘golden’ results which accrued to the enterprising landlord.”

Kelvin Markham (http://www.km.com.au/tasmania/ch14.htm) has a different view on why the House was haunted.

During the twenty one mile journey to New Norfolk, I had the company of a ghost – one Denis McCarty. To you who follow me along this road, the first made in Tasmania, I present this Irish ghost, ex-convict, constable, farmer and grazier, road-maker, Deputy Provost Marshal and much more. My assertion is that Denis, after all his troubles in constructing the road, drinking his share of the 500 gallons of rum that were to be part payment, and then dying whilst his claims for final settlement were being considered by Governor Sorell and Macquarie, perambulates this unpaid-for road, and, when he finds it necessary to take shelter, rests in the old Golden Fleece.  If you dive into the history of this road, you will learn a number of things. For example You will stand at his deathbed, seeing it only as through a glass darkly, and wonder what Jemott and Broadribb had to do with it – if anything. Contemporary records refer mysteriously to these persons as knowing more than they should of McCarty’s end.”

These background stories and reasons for Addington House or Lodge/Golden Fleece Inn/William the Fourth hostelry to be haunted make for wonderful fiction-writing and movie-making opportunities.  Anyone interested?

Add Lodge drawing -UTAS library

The image above is a drawing of ‘Addington Lodge Colonel Arthur’s Marsh Farm between Bridgewater and Sorell Creek Derwent Valley’/’The Haunted House on the Granton New-Norfolk Road’ by artist A. T. Fleury c1931 – from the collection of Linc Tasmania

Colonial Artists, the Derwent River and the Glenorchy area

A number of 19th century artists made visual references to Roseneath on the Derwent River within the current City of Glenorchy. These include Joseph Lycett, George William Evans and James Taylor (no not ‘Sweet Baby James’) all of whom may have a connection with each other as I will explain.

Background to Joseph Lycett

Let’s start with Joseph Lycett who left a significant body of work depicting Sydney and Newcastle in NSW, and a few pieces named with features along the Derwent River.

Lycett didn’t come to Australia by plan. He was a forger and the British government transported him to Sydney with a sentence of 14 years.  He arrived in 1814. It was clear he had skills and was almost immediately given a ticket of leave on landing, but he couldn’t help himself. Within 15 months Lycett was illegally printing bank notes for use in NSW. His new sentence was relocation to Newcastle for hard labour in the coal mines. I suspect there must have been something charismatic about this man despite the Australian Dictionary of Biography alleging Lycett had ‘habits of intoxication’ that were ‘fixed and incurable’. Before long his abilities were noted and he was out of the mines and drafting designs for new buildings in Newcastle.  In 1821 he was finally pardoned and left Australia for good the following year. But Lycett never visited Van Diemen’s Land.

I wondered how he came to produce the well-known pictorial publication Views of Australia or New South Wales & Van Diemen’s Land, published by John Souter, London, 1824-25 described by eminent Australian Art historian John McPhee as “the most lavish pictorial account of the colony ever produced”. McPhee has come to the conclusion that Lycett couldn’t help being a con man. Though his views of Van Diemen’s Land were supposedly scenes he had witnessed, McPhee (quoted in the Sydney Morning Herald 5/4/2006) says “there’s no doubt he never went there”.  We can be surprised to learn that when Views In Australia didn’t sell in England as well as Lycett hoped, he turned to forging bank notes again. He must have loved his printing press!

So I began to research how Lycett ‘knew’ what the Derwent River and the surrounding land looked like.

When Lycett first landed in Sydney, Governor Macquarie was ruling the colony. During Lycett’s sojourn in Newcastle, Macquarie became acquainted with the artist’s pictorial records of the colony. In 1818, the Governor received the personal gift of a chest. Lycett had  painted eight of the twelve panels on this chest with views of Newcastle as well as copies of William Westall’s Views of Australian Scenery.  In 1820, the year Lycett returned to live in Sydney and earn a living as a painter, according to http://www.nla.gov.au/selected-library-collections/lycett-collection ‘Governor Macquarie and Elizabeth Macquarie were among his patrons’. Obviously impressed, Governor Macquarie sent a selection of the artist’s work to Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for the Colonies, in England.

But what does this have to do with the Derwent River?

What is the story about Joseph Lycett’s Tasmanian (then named Van Diemen’s Land) pictures? Well … Governor Macquarie visited Van Diemen’s Land on two occasions: in 1811 (before Lycett arrived) and in 1821 (a few months before Lycett left for England). I love connections and so I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Governor Macquarie named the Austins Ferry area as Roseneath when he visited Van Diemen’s Land in 1821. Did the Governor make drawings and bring back sketches?  This is doubtful.  It is more likely that others went to Van Diemen’s Land at the Governor’s request, brought their sketches back to Sydney and that these were shown (perhaps some were given) to Lycett.

I wondered whose sketches, paintings or etchings Lycett saw, and then ‘used’.Two people with drawing skills have been suggested: George Evans and James Taylor.

First, let’s consider George Evans.

In the first two decades of the 1800s, Governor Macquarie sent surveyor George William Evans to Van Diemen’s Land off and on a number of times for short trips to remeasure land previously granted (misconduct involved); various sources suggest different years so I am not sure exactly which years in the second decade of the 1800s Evans was in Tasmania; some suggestions are Sept 1812 to Aug 1813, 1814, July 1815 to 1817. Wikipedia suggests that on two occasions Evans was granted valuable acres of land near in the Coal River Valley near the town of Richmond outside the Greater Hobart Area.

According to  http://www.daao.org.au/bio/george-william-evans/biography, at the end of 1818 Evans was able to resume office as Deputy Surveyor-General of Van Diemen’s Land. His travels around Tasmania are recorded in his Geographical, Historical and Topographical Description of Van Diemen’s Land… (London, 1822). One of his watercolour sketches of Hobart Town was used for the foldout aquatint and etching used as the frontispiece in the original edition. Another of the town was published by Ackermann of London as an independent print. Both depict Hobart as a thriving British colonial seaport town with court-house, commissariat store, St David’s Church, warehouses and numerous domestic dwellings in evidence. A surviving original (Dixson Library) shows a competent understanding of watercolour technique.

The website http://www.nla.gov.au/selected-library-collections/lycett-collection offered: As well as being a competent surveyor and a resolute explorer, Evans was an artist of some note. His aquatint view of Hobart in 1820 was published as a frontispiece in his Geographical, Historical and Topographical Description of Van Diemen’s Land … (London, 1822; second edition, 1824; and a French edition, Paris, 1823). The original, with another aquatint of Hobart in 1829, is in the Dixson Library of New South Wales.’

Second let’s consider James Taylor.

Military officer, Major James Taylor, arrived in Sydney in 1817 with the 48th Foot Regiment. Taylor produced a number of paintings and prints throughout his tours and his panoramic works of Sydney were particularly popular. He travelled to Van Diemen’s Land with Governor Macquarie in 1821. On 15th February 1822 he sailed to Britain with the Macquaries on board the Surry.  Only 50 people including the crew were on board for this 5 month trip around Cape Horn and it is easy to speculate that Macquarie and Taylor would have talked about Lycett.

Comparison of art works

I decided that comparing the works of the three artists Evans, Taylor and Lycett might help me to understand where Lycett’s Tasmanian images came from.  Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate sufficient of the work of Evans and Taylor to make a solid comparison despite knowing Lycett’s work very well (having worked in the Newcastle Art Gallery for a number of years in the presence of a substantial collection of Newcastle district related images by Lycett). Nevertheless some images for Evans and Taylor are available.

Examples of Lycett’s art

Below is an image of Lycett’s etching (see below) titled Roseneath Ferry near Hobart Town, Van Diemen’s Land dated 1 December 1824 (two years after Lycett left Australia). The etching was published as plate number 4 in Views in Australia or New South Wales and Van Diemen’s Land Delineated. London: J. Souter, 1824. This etching is held in the collection of the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra. Lycett is looking across the Derwent River from somewhere above the western shore and southwards so that the ‘hill’ in the distance to the left of the picture is Mount Direction (you may recall I walked past this as I passed the Bowen Bridge on my way from the suburb of Risdon to the suburb of Otago Bay on the eastern shore).

Lycett in  colour

The image below, also by Joseph Lycett, is another hand coloured etching, this time from the viewpoint of the eastern shore.  The title is View of Roseneath Ferry, taken from the Eastside, Van Diemen’s Land and it was produced in 1825 (when he was already living in England).  One of the edition of this etching is in the collection of the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra.

Lycett View of Roseneath Ferry from the eastern shore 1825

The image below is Distant View of Hobart Town, Van Diemen’s Land, from Blufhead Plate 28 from Views of Australia or New South Wales& Van Diemen’s Land,  published by John Souter, London, 1824-25. This handcoloured aquatint and etching is held in the Joseph Brown Collection of the National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne.

Lycett Distant view of Hobart Town VDL NGV

Examples of George Evans’s art

The image below comes from http://www.abc.net.au/news/2014-08-22/1819-slnsw-south-west-view-of-hobart-town-1819-george-william-e/5689410 It is titled South West view of Hobart Town and dated 1819

Evans Hobart

The image below comes from http://www.acmssearch.sl.nsw.gov.au/s/search.html?collection=slnsw&meta_e=350

George Evans Hobart Town 1828

Hobart Town, Vandiemen’s Land. 1828 At lower left is printed “G. W. Evans. Pinxt.”; at lower right “R.G. Reeves. Sculpt”; underneath title “Published 1828, by R. Ackermann, 96 Strand, London” he image is from the collections of the State Library of NSW.

Examples of James Raylor’s art

I could find no image by James Taylor that was related to Van Diemen’s Land. I only found two New South Wales images.The image below is from http://www.afloat.com.au/afloat-magazine/2010/july-2010/Lachlan_Macquarie#.VHAuwPmUdqU and titled Panoramic view of Port Jackson c.1821

James Taylor Panoramic-view-of-Port-Jackson-c1821

The image below, from http://www.powerhousemuseum.com/collection/database/?irn=326892 is an aquatint of Port Jackson and Sydney dated 1824.

Aquatint of Port Jackson 1824 by Major James Taylor

This panorama of Port Jackson and of the town of Sydney was taken from a hill near the Parramatta River, was produced with ink on paper by Major James Taylor, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia, 1820, then engraved by Rittner et Goulpil, Sydney / Paris in 1824. The Powerhouse Museum (Sydney) provided the following information:

‘Statement of significance

In 1820 Major James Taylor created a series of watercolours on paper which, when joined together, formed a panorama of Sydney. When he returned to England in 1822 (did Taylor and Lycett travel on the same ship? – more research required) Taylor arranged for the engraving and printing of a three sheet panorama based on his watercolours. Known as ‘Major Taylor’s Panorama’, this is one of the most informative depictions of Sydney in its early years. Taylor, a topographical draughtsman attached to the 48th Regiment, arrived in 1817 when Sydney was thriving and Governor Macquarie was trying to turn an ‘infantile’ penal colony into a ‘civilised’ society. Taylor’s pictures were intended to be a record of that change. The view, taken from Observatory Hill, encompasses Sydney Harbour from the Heads to Lavender Bay, showing many of the major buildings of the day.
Convicts can be seen cutting the sandstone which provided building material for Sydney’s expansion. The many fences indicate gardens and a respect for private property. The harbour is filled with trade and military ships. Government House and its stables can be seen set in Governor Macquarie’s private park called the Demesne. Much of this park still survives as the Botanic Gardens and the Domain. This area contrasts markedly with the small cottages in the middle ground which were typical of many in The Rocks. They were often occupied by convicts and their families who were encouraged to develop ‘respectable’ habits like gardening in their spare time.
A prominent building is the Military Hospital, built in 1815, where patients can be seen dressed in long coats. On the horizon are the impressive buildings of Macquarie St, including St James Church, the Hyde Park Barracks and the General Hospital. To the right of the Military Windmill is Cockle Bay, later called Darling Harbour. The land beyond is the Ultimo estate owned by the surgeon John Harris. To the far right are the windmills that gave rise to the name Millers Point.
Topographical artists often included indigenous people in their work. These images were intended to educate European viewers about the appearance and customs of the ‘natives’, but such depictions were informed by symbolism and ideology rather than a representation of reality. In Taylor’s panorama Aborigines stand amid uncultivated bush, in contrast to Europeans who are clearing and grazing the land. When the British took possession of New South Wales they argued that, as the Aborigines did not ‘work’ the land, they did not own it. This supported the notion of ‘terra nullius’ or nobody’s land. Taylor’s representation is a graphic rendering of that argument.

Production notes

The engraving is based on watercolours by Major James Taylor. Taylor was a topographical draughtsman attached to the 48th Regiment. He arrived in Sydney on the convict transport Matilda on 9 August 1817. He accompanied the Macquarie’s on their tour of Tasmania in May and June 1821 and some of the Tasmanian views in Joseph Lycett’s Views are probably based on Taylor’s drawings. Taylor received some training in draughtsmanship as part of his military studies and like other military and naval officers, was interested in his surroundings and recorded them in watercolours. Little of Taylor’s work survives, notably the originals of this view of Sydney Harbour. This image is held in the Powerhouse Museum collection.’
My conclusion

Lycett’s style is quite different from each of Evans and Taylor so it is difficult to attribute the work of one or the other as being the ‘aid’ to Lycett’s Tasmanian etchings.

There are three possibilities.

  • Lycett took the shape of the landscape around Roseneath from Taylor’s drawings. I am guessing that since Taylor accompanied Governor Macquarie to Van Diemen’s Land in 1821, he probably went to Roseneath with the Governor on the day that Macquarie named Roseneath. It is conceivable Taylor rushed up a few sketches and it is these that either Taylor showed or gave Lycett, or Taylor gave to the Governor who showed or gave them to Lycett. Perhaps the three of them met in London on arrival in 1822?
  • Lycett had access in Sydney to Evans maps of the land, and using their flat two dimensional nature, he fabricated a three dimensional landscape. If indeed he worked in this way, then the odd shapes of some topographical features of the landscape in Lycett’s pictures from and towards Roseneath can be explained.
  • Lycett had access to both Taylor and Evans work and amalgamated them to create a fictional but partly realistic depiction of Tasmanian sites. Lycett’s history is one of creativity, so sticking to the facts of the situation wouldn’t necessarily be important.

Incidental extra

In conclusion, there is one connection between the current Hobart and the Derwent River and the early 19th century Joseph Lycett – which could never have been foreseen.  I discovered that Lycett was on the list of prisoners that sailed to Newcastle on 8 July 1815: the name of the ship was the Lady Nelson. Pride of place on the today’s wharf at Hobart is a training sailing replica, the original having been stripped, burnt and sunk in 1825.