THE MAJOR MITCHELL TRAIL – PART 3
For Parts 1 and 2 of the re-tracing of Major Mitchell’s 1836 expedition see my Pieces to Share blogs posted, respectively, January 2023 and October 2023.
Geoffrey Blainey (still with us at 93) has been a great historian for the people, by which I mean no disrespect to his intellect and scholarship, rather that his published works have been universally accessible. I have no idea whether the term “popular history” has been applied to his books, but if such a term were to be used it would be right in fact, but totally wrong in sentiment. In the “popular” vein he has been commissioned to write several local histories which, without such sponsorship, would likely not have been written. These volumes of popular history are scholarly nonetheless. Blainey’s oeuvre runs to more than 40 books.
In 1984 Professor Blainey published Our Side of the Country: The Story of Victoria. And, for those curious about the title, the blurb advises that: “When the first settlers came with their sheep to Victoria, the common practice was to call the people who lived north of the Murray River as Sydney-siders. Those who lived south of the Murray were said to be on ‘our side of the country’.”
In his book, Blainey “traces the history of Victoria since the time Aborigines could walk across Bass Strait”. And, germaine to my Major Mitchell Trail re-tracing project he writes:
“[that in August 1836] the explorer Major Thomas Mitchell, after crossing western (sic) Victoria from Swan Hill to the Grampians and the sea, was surprised to see some grey rocks which, on examination through the telescope, proved to be whalers’ sheds. Following the tracks of carts he came to the Hentys’ houses at Portland. In the gardens on the overhanging cliffs he was shown potatoes and turnips surpassing any he had ever seen, and looking down on the sheltered bay he was told that only a few days ago five ships lay there at anchor, and from the Hentys’ verandah on a crisp August day he was fascinated to see three whale boats, each with a harpooner standing in the stern, set out to chase a ‘hunchback’ whale.” What an extraordinary evocation; and what an extraordinary historical snapshot: to think that this scenario was unfolding in Portland in August 1836 barely within a year of Batman arriving in June 1835 in what was to become Melbourne, Fawkner’s setting up his household in Melbourne in August 1835, and Batman’s return to Melbourne from Tasmania with a shipload of settlers in September 1835.
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Before continuing the Major Mitchell Trail journey, a bit more on Mitchell the man. He was born in 1792 at Grangemouth in Scotland, and died in Sydney in 1855. Although notable for his achievements as an explorer and surveyor, Mitchell was essentially a military man. He was aged 16 when he joined the British Army as a volunteer in the Peninsular War, and was commissioned a second lieutenant at age 19. During the War his skills as a draftsman were specifically utilised. After the War he was tasked – for four years - with preparing surveys, and official sketches of Spanish and Portuguese battlefields. He married while on this posting, a marriage that was to produce twelve children. Long after, in 1841, Mitchell’s drawings were published as Atlas Containing the Principal Battles, Sieges and Affairs of the Peninsular War.
In the meantime, in 1827, Mitchell was appointed Assistant Surveyor General of New South Wales; and, upon the death of John Oxley the following year, became Surveyor General. In the eight years before Mitchell’s 1836 expedition through Australia Felix he surveyed the road from Sydney to the Hunter region, and the road from Sydney to Goulburn, and he conducted numerous other surveys and produced numerous maps. And he led two expeditions of exploration - to the north-west, and to the west of the State. Later, Mitchell spent extended periods of leave in London, during which time he published the journals of his explorations. He was knighted in 1839 for his achievements as a surveyor.
Withal, Mitchell may have been a pretty intractable character. He has the distinction (along with his fellow duellist) of being known as the last person to have fought a duel in Australia – puzzle solvers note: 27 September, 1851. His protagonist had publicly criticised excessive spending by the Surveyor General’s Department, and Mitchell took offence, and they each took up pistols. Neither duellist succeeded in inflicting corporeal damage, although one hat was pierced.
Earlier, in 1844, Mitchell had been elected to the Legislative Council…..but had resigned within six months because of the conflicts with his role as a paid public official. Bad judgement? Mercurial? And then there was the observation of later Governor, Charles FitzRoy: “It is notorious that Sir Thomas Mitchell’s unfortunate impracticability of temper and spirit of opposition to those in authority over him misled him into frequent collision with my predecessors.”
In 1841 Mitchell built a mansion home, Carthona, on a two-acre site on the shorefront of Darling Harbour.
Mitchell died in 1855 after an attack of bronchitis turned to pneumonia. He left behind considerable debt. The family moved to more modest accommodation, although Carthona was retained by the family for some years. After passing through several hands, Carthona was acquired by a member of the “Bushell’s Tea” family in 1940.
The Trail – Maps 13 to 17 [days 68 to 108].
10 August to 19 September, 1836
Tracking south from nearby to Casterton, reaching the sea at the mouth of the Glenelg River, continuing easterly then back to the sea at Portland, and northerly and easterly heading back towards Sydney
9 and 10 August 1836 must have been hectic days for the Mitchell expedition. Notwithstanding concern about the steepness of Major Creek, and the care taken with the crossing, one of the carts had capsized; and, in the event, camp was made on the far bank with most of the expedition still to be brought across the next morning. “By means of a block and tackle attached to a tree, the remaining carts and the boat carriage were lowered to the bed of the stream. There still remained the task of hauling everything up the opposite bank but this was achieved by using the combined strength of several teams; and the party was able to move on before noon.”
Within a few kilometres the expedition was rewarded with a vista of “open grassy country” extending to the horizon, “rounded hills smooth as a carpet, the meadows broad and either emerald green or of a rich golden colour from the abundance of a small ranunculus-like flower (Australian Common Buttercup).”
That day Mitchell was delighted to make contact with an Aboriginal woman – whom he first chased, then persuaded to communicate, and who was able to converse readily with the two Aboriginal women with the expedition – even though they were from a far off district of New South Wales. Mitchell learned from the woman the local names of nearby geographical features.
Camp on 10 August was on the bank of the Glenelg River, about six kilometres north of present-day Casterton.
Some clown has prised the bronze plaque from this cairn marking the 11 August 1836 campsite
Near Henty there is a plaque commemorating Mitchell and others, although not from 1936; plus a signboard with a time-line of early European settlement. Mitchell passed near by on 12 August 1836.
The way ahead proved to be diverse and often difficult to traverse. The higher ground above the Glenelg was thickly wooded with stringybarks and other eucalypts. Back at river level: sterile moorland, open wastes, and swamps. Yet, near to the junction of the Crawford and Glenelg Rivers Mitchell reports “overlooking one of the finest flats imaginable”. This was 15 August 1836, and close to present-day Dartmoor.
From here Mitchell undertook an eight-day excursion towards the coast. Stapylton remained, with eight men, to set up a depot at the newly-named Fort O'Hare hill.
After much reconnoitre, and difficulty manoeuvring carts through swampy terrain, on 17 August Piper climbed a tree and reported a very large stream ahead “like the Murray”, one excellent for boats. So, Mitchell decided to reach the sea by water; and at midday on 18 August the two boats were launched, sixteen men aboard – on to what was now realised to be the Glenelg! Mitchell’s principal aim: to find a harbour on the south coast. From Mitchell’s diary: “The scenery on the banks was pleasing and various: at some points picturesque limestone cliffs overhung the river, and cascades flowed out of caverns hung with stalactites: at others, the shores were festooned with green dripping shrubs and creepers, or terminated in a smooth grassy bank sloping to the water’s edge.”
The camp that night was at Moleside Landing. [The Trail map indicates a cairn, but we could not find it.] Having climbed the highest cliffs and been unable to sight the coast, Mitchell voiced impatience to continue…….but, next day, a reluctant prisoner of the Glenelg, he was obliged to take a sharp right turn to the west.
A distance of more than 20 kilometres was navigated on 19 August and, although Mitchell’s diary fails to record the location of that night’s sojourn, it is believed to be at Lasletts Camp. Again, we were unable to find the commemorative cairn - with echoes of Lady Bracknell’s admonition that while to lose one is unfortunate, to lose two seems like carelessness.
The next morning the party – the river having turned south again - reached the coast (near present-day Nelson). Mitchell was disappointed to find that the shallow mouth of the Glenelg presented no opportunity for a harbour: this would not be an access point for settlers to Australia Felix.
This cairn is on The Isle of Bags near to the mouth of the Glenelg River, near Nelson. It dates from 1930.
Today, in Picnic Hill Reserve on the road to the Cape Nelson Lighthouse stands a cairn in the form of a square pillar – 200 steps up the climb. Plus information board. The board references Crosbie Morrison, naturalist, who unveiled the cairn in October 1957.
The party returned upstream, and camped on 20 August near what was to become the South Australia/Victoria border – on the South Australian side. It’s tedious to report, but not nearly so tedious as to experience, the absence of another commemorative cairn. I presume and hope that nobody has been removing them for their stone! And, while our searches have been thorough, in remote spots those searches can be successful only insofar as the Trail book is accurate. Precise locations are not given, however. Any revision of the book will surely include those locations, with grid references. And is a GPS locating system too much to hope for?
The members of Mitchell’s party were back with Stapylton’s group at Fort O’Hare (Dartmoor) on 22 August, and Mitchell’s reconnaissance on the next day established that there was clear firm country ahead to the east. In passing, Mitchell noted enormous stringybarks, including one of 4.4 metres girth and 25 metres height.
For the next two days Mitchell’s route was east, roughly parallel to and to the north of the Princes Highway. The terrain was much less challenging; but, having said that, extremely soft soil was encountered on 26 August, and even worse the next day, so much so that “Mitchell decided that they had gone far enough eastward to enable him to detour south to examine the coast about Portland Bay and thus give time for the carts to be freed from the mud and for the bullocks to be rested,” and that a depot camp should be set up.
Accompanied by six men Mitchell rode south from the depot camp on 28 August 1836. The forward camp that night was south of Heywood, to the east of the Princes Highway. There was little grass for the horses, the prevailing vegetation being wattles and grass trees – the latter an indication of poor soil. But through the day they had passed through luxuriant kangaroo grass, and a stringybark forest.
29 August was a momentous day. It started squally and unpleasant. Continuing south the party reached the sea to the east of Portland. Mitchell records his astonishment at the reaction of his aboriginal companion, Tommy Came-last, who had never before seen the sea – total lack of reaction, that is: “I could not discover any expression of surprise; on the contrary, the placid and comprehensive gaze he cast over it, seemed fully to embrace the grand expanse then for the first time opened to him.” Mitchell was also astonished when Tommy Came-last pointed out broken bottles and broken clay pipes and shoe prints on the beach (which, on reflection, Mitchell attributed to whalers); and beyond astonished to see cattle tracks. He knew that whaling vessels occasionally landed there, but he had no sense of how cattle had done so also.
Mitchell subsequently learned that whaling was much more than “occasional”, that many ships used the bay, that more than 700 tons of whale oil had been shipped out that season, and that “only a few days earlier, five vessels had been at anchor”.
He also learned that the Henty brothers had a considerable farming establishment: "I was received and entertained by them who, I learnt, had been established there during upwards of two years”. Indeed, there was regular communication with Van Diemen’s Land (Tasmania) by ships from Launceston. “The Hentys were importing sheep and cattle as fast as vessels could be found to bring them over, and the numerous whalers were good customers for farm produce.”
The next day Mitchell surveyed the nearby region using Cape Nelson in the distance as a reference point. Later, upon departure, Mitchell’s party were given some flour by the Hentys, and “as many vegetables as the men could carry away on their horses”. Just then a whale was sighted “and instantly three well-manned boats were seen cutting through the water, a harpooner standing in the stern of each”. Mitchell did not wait for the outcome of the chase; and his group spent the first night of their return journey on the beach north-east of Portland. They re-joined the main expedition at the depot camp next day, his men having had to wade through a stream with water up to their necks, carrying the flour on their heads. They found that the carts had been extracted from the bogs, the chains had been repaired by the blacksmith, new shafts had been made for the heavy carts, and the hatchets had been re-steeled.
Mitchell’s journey over the next week or so is erratic indeed. The Trail map covers an area of 25 by 60 kilometres (as does each map in the Trail book), yet within that relatively small area there were ten overnight camps. Part of the explanation for the slow going was Mitchell’s side excursion to Mount Napier, but mainly it was “conditions”, and equipment issues. Because of swamps and boggy ground the boat carriage had to be allocated extra bullocks, swapped from the heavy carts, and by day’s end the light carts were ten kilometres ahead. Then, on 3 September, the boat carriage again became stuck in a swamp. Mitchell mused that “the nearest habitations of civilized men” were 600 kilometres away, but was unwilling to abandon the boats (or, indeed, any of the carts). But, there was unlikely to be an inland sea to explore so, after further consideration, on 4 September Mitchell decided to abandon one of the boats, and to shorten the boat carriage to adapt it to carry one boat only – there would surely be other streams to cross! He hoped that the shortened and lightened boat carriage would then be able to keep up with the other carts.
Having given his instructions Mitchell set out for Mount Napier, some 40 kilometres distant. In the afternoon light Mitchell’s party arrived at the rim of a circular crater, with rocks composed wholly of lava and scoria. “The igneous character of these was so obvious that one of the men thrust his hand into a chasm to ascertain whether it was warm.” Camp was made at the foot of the mountain. Mitchell ascended again the next morning, but the weather was so inclement that it was impossible to envisage a route ahead. Returning to the main party Mitchell found that the modification of the boat carriage had not been completed, so he paused the expedition for another day, during which the horses were re-shod.
The journey resumed on 7 September, with the large boat being left behind, keel upwards in the swamp. The Trail book [published 1990] reports that “sightings of the boat’s remains have been reported until recent years”.
On 9 September Mitchell again ascended Mount Napier, this time along with a team armed with axes. He was determined to clear the summit in order to take bearings, but again was thwarted by the weather. Not so the next day, when under a clear sky he ascended again, was able to take bearings in all directions, and named a number of distant features.
The campsite on 11 September is a little short of Hamilton. There is an interesting plaque on the wall of the Hamilton school recording that on September 11th, 1836 Mitchell “discovered and named the little stream called ‘The Grange’”.
Also a cairn in the nearby park.
The expedition continued eastward through “well-grassed” country for the following eight days – initially “fine downs where the ground was firm under the horses’ feet, and covered with excellent grass”. Passing the southernmost point of the Grampians Mitchell resolved to climb Mount Abrupt, and on 14 September, on a cloudless day, he beheld “a truly sublime scene”.
But the recent intermittent hard going had had a toll. Boggy conditions were again encountered on 15 September and, after a mere six kilometres, a broken axle caused a despairing Mitchell to call a halt. Mitchell decided to go ahead with some of the party while the blacksmith effected repairs. However, upon regrouping it was obvious that the cattle were exhausted, and needed several weeks’ rest; but there were insufficient provisions for the expedition to pause for that long.
The decision was made that the weakest cattle would be spelled for two weeks, and that Stapylton and a few of the men would stay with them, with provisions for two months, and then follow the main party’s tracks. The main Mitchell party, including the freshest cattle, would press on (with the remaining provisions) – and with the prospect that Mitchell would be able to return to Sydney some weeks earlier than if the entire expedition were to remain together. The boat would be left at the Murray for the group following. From Mitchell’s diary: “Of the natives in our party, it was arranged amongst themselves that Tommy Came-first, and the widow [Turandurey], who most required a rest, having sore feet, should remain with Mr. Stapylton, and that Piper and Tommy Came-last should accompany me.”
The 19 September 1836, campsite was near the Glenelg Highway about fifteen kilometres to the east of Dunkeld. In Dunkeld there is a cairn, erected in 1914, to commemorate Mitchell’s ascent of mount Abrupt on 14 September 1836. The cairn has a latter-day bronze plate (from September 1986), dedicated by Professor Manning Clarke, recognising the 150-years anniversary of that ascent.
The accompanying signboard has a photograph of the 1914 dedication.
And as I conclude the third part of this Major Mitchell Trail blog we find Mitchell, on 19 September 1836, riding to a nearby hill – which he named Mount Stavely - and planning the next stage of his route…….no doubt hoping for an easier passage ahead.
To be continued…….
Gary Andrews
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