SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER I.
EARLY HISTORY.

South Australia has a peculiar history of its own, differing very much from those of the other Australian colonies, though similar in some degree to that of New Zealand, which was founded after South Australia, and with aspirations of the same nature. New South Wales was taken up by Great Britain as a convict depôt, and grew as such till the free inhabitants who had followed and surrounded the convicts became numerous and strong enough to declare that they would have no more such neighbours sent among them. Van Diemen’s Land, which is now Tasmania, and Moreton Bay, which is now Queensland, were occupied as convict dependencies to the parent establishment. Moreton Bay was still part of New South Wales when New South Wales refused to be any longer regarded as an English prison, and Van Diemen’s Land did for herself that which New South Wales had done before. Even Port Phillip, which is now Victoria, was first occupied by convicts sent thither from the parent colony,—though it is right to say that the convict system never took root there, and that the attempt never reached fulfilment. On the same principle New South Wales sent an offshoot convict depôt to King George’s Sound, which is now a part of Western Australia,—an unhappy colony which, in its sore distress, was destined to save itself from utter destruction by delivering itself to the custody of compelled immigrants, who could be made to come thither and work when others would not come. In this way all the now existing Australian colonies, except South Australia, have either owed their origin to convicts, or have been at one period of their existence fostered by convict labour; but South Australia has never been blessed—or cursed—with the custody of a single British exile.

In 1829, when Australian exploration was yet young, Captain Sturt, who had already travelled westwards from Sydney till he found and named the Darling River, and had done much towards investigating the difficult problem of the central Australian waters, received a commission from the government of New South Wales to make his way across to the Murrumbidgee River, and to discover by following its course what became of it. It was then believed by many, and among others by Captain Sturt himself, that the great waters of the continent, which had been reached but of which the estuaries were not known, ran into some huge central lake or internal sea. With the view of proving or of disproving this surmise, Captain Sturt with a few companions started on his journey, carrying with him a boat in detached pieces, in which he proposed to solve the mystery of the river. For, it must be understood, none of those maritime explorers who had surveyed, or partially surveyed, the eastern, southern, or western coasts of the continent had discovered any river mouth by which it was supposed that these waters could escape to the sea. Sturt was very zealous and ambitious to make for himself a great name among Australian explorers,—as he has done. In his account of a subsequent journey,—made into the interior after he had found that the river did not conduct him thither,—he thus describes his own feelings:—“Let any man lay the map of Australia before him and regard the blank upon its surface, and then let me ask if it would not be an honourable achievement to be the first to place foot upon its centre.” This he did, subsequently, in 1845; but in 1829-1830 he and his companions made their way down the Murrumbidgee till that large river joined a still greater stream, which he first called the Murray. The upper part of this river had been crossed by Hovell and Hume in 1826, and had then been called the Hume. But the name given by Sturt is the one by which it will hereafter be known. He followed it till it was joined by another large river, which he rightly presumed to be that Darling which he had himself discovered on a former journey. Still going on he came to the “Great Bend” which the Murray makes. Hitherto the course of the wanderers down the Murrumbidgee and down the Murray had been nearly due west. From the Bend the Murray runs south, and from henceforth it waters a territory which is now a part of the province or colony of South Australia.

Sturt, when he had progressed for a while southwards, must have begun to perceive that that surmise as to a great inland sea was incorrect. For the waters both of the Murrumbidgee and the Darling he had so far accounted, and he was now taking with him down to the Southern Ocean the confluence of the three rivers. It is not my purpose in this book to describe the explorations of Australia, and I will not therefore stop to dwell upon the dangers which Sturt encountered. But it should be remembered that he was forced to carry with him all the provisions for his party, that he had no guide except the course of the waters which he was bound to follow, and that as he went he was accompanied along the banks by tribes of black natives, who, if not absolutely hostile, were astonished, suspicious, and irascible. Why they did not surround and destroy him and his little party we can hardly conceive. As far as we yet know, no white man had been there before, and yet it appears from Sturt’s account that the natives frequently evinced no astonishment whatever at firearms, looking on while birds were shot, and not even condescending to admire the precision with which they were killed.

He went on southwards till he entered a big lake,—now called Lake Alexandrina. There are indeed a succession of lakes or inland waters here, of which Lakes Alexandrina and Albert are very shallow, rarely having as much as six feet of water, which is fresh or very nearly fresh,—and the Coorong River, which is salt, and, although as much within the mouth as are the lakes, must be regarded as an inlet of the sea. Of Lake Albert and the Coorong River, Sturt appears to have seen nothing, but he did make his way with extreme difficulty through the tortuous, narrow, and shallow opening of the river which takes the waters of the lake down to the sea in Encounter Bay,—and then perceived that for purposes of seaborne navigation the great river of which he had followed the course must always be useless. “Thus,” he says, “were our fears of the impracticability and inutility of the chain of communication between the lake and the ocean confirmed.”

Having so far succeeded, and so far failed, he was called upon to decide what he would do next. He could see to the westward ranges of hills, which he rightly conceived to be those which Captain Flinders had described after surveying the coasts of Gulf St. Vincent and Spencer’s Gulf. Flinders had called these hills Mount Lofty, and Sturt could perceive,—at any rate could surmise,—that there was a fertile, happy land lying between him and them. But he had not the means nor had his men the strength to go across the country. He could not take his little whale-boat out to sea, nor could he venture to remain on the shores of Encounter Bay till assistance should come to him from seawards. He had flour and tea left, and birds and kangaroo might be killed on the river banks. So he resolved to go back again up the river, and thus with infinite labour he returned by the Murray and Murrumbidgee, and made his way to Sydney.

The results of this journey were twofold. Though Sturt did not discover the land in which the colony of South Australia was first founded, and on which the city of Adelaide now stands, the history of his journey and the account which had previously been given by Captain Flinders, led to the survey of the land between the two gulfs and the Murray River. There stands a hill, about twenty miles from Adelaide, called Mount Barker; in honour of Captain Barker, who was killed by the blacks while employed on this work. The land was found to be good, and fit for agriculture; not sandy, as is so large a proportion of the continent, nor heavily timbered, as is a larger portion of it. The survey was made immediately on the receipt of Sturt’s account, and the operations which were commenced with a view of planting the colony, were no doubt primarily due to him. And he solved the great question as to the Australian waters, proving, what all Australia now knows, to its infinite loss, that the river Murray,—the only considerable outflow of Australian waters with which we are as yet acquainted,—makes its way into the sea by a mouth which is not suited for navigation. There is already much traffic on the Murray, and no doubt that traffic will increase;—but there is very little traffic indeed from the Murray to the seaports, even on the Australian coast, and it is not probable that that little will be extended. It is yet possible that on the north or north-western coast navigable rivers may be found. Just now men who have visited the northern shore are beginning to tell us that the Roper River and the Victoria River may by certain processes of blasting and dredging become serviceable, not only for inland but also for maritime navigation. But hitherto Australia has had no river into which great ships can make their way, as they do on the open rivers of America, of Europe, and of Asia. The narrowness and shallowness,—or, as I may perhaps call it, the meanness,—of the mouth of the Murray is one of the great natural disadvantages under which Australia labours.

Tidings of the land between the Murray and the Gulfs came home, and then a company formed itself with the object of “planting” a colony, as British settlements were formerly planted in North America. The plan to be followed was that which came to be known as the Wakefield system, the theory of which required that the land should be sold in small quantities, at a “sufficient price,” so that the purchasers should settle on their own lands, and hold no more land than they would be able to occupy beneficially for themselves and the colony at large. This theory of occupation was to be adopted in distinct opposition to that under which large grants of land had been made in Western Australia,—the territorial estates so granted having been far too extensive in area for beneficial occupation.

In establishing new homes for the crowded population of old lands it has been found almost impossible to follow out to any perfect success the theories of philanthropists. The greed of individuals on one side, and obstinacy and ambition on other sides, have marred those embryo Utopias in the prospect of which the brains of good men have revelled. Machinery, if the means and skill be sufficient, can be made to do its proposed work in exact conformity with the intentions of the projectors; but men are less reliable. They are, however, more powerful, each being the owner of a new energy; and though the Utopian philanthropist may be disappointed,—even to a broken heart,—the very greed and obstinacy of his followers will often lead to greater results than would have been achieved by a strict compliance with the rules of a leader, however wise, however humane, however disinterested he may have been. The scheme proposed for the colonization of South Australia was not carried out in strictness; but the colony is strong and healthy, and it may be doubted whether it would now be stronger or healthier had a closer compliance with the intentions of the founders been effected.

In 1834 an Act was passed for founding the colony of South Australia. Under this Act it was specially provided that the proceeds of the land should be devoted to immigration. This, however, was no necessary part of Mr. Gibbon Wakefield’s plan. In his evidence given subsequently before a committee of the House of Commons in 1836, he thus speaks of his own scheme: “The object of the price is not to create an immigration fund. You may employ the fund in that way if you please, but the object of the price is to create circumstances in the colony which would render it, instead of a barbarous country, an extension of the old country, with all the good, but without the evils, of the old society. There is no relation,—it is easy to see one which is of no consequence, but I can see no proper relation,—between the price required for land and immigration.” He repeats the same opinion in his book, called “A View of the Art of Colonization.” This is written in the form of letters, and in Letter 55 he says: “So completely is the production of revenue a mere incident of the price of the land, that the price ought to be imposed, if it ought to be imposed under any circumstances, even though the purchase-money were thrown away.” Again in the same letter he continues, speaking of the money which would arise from the sale of land: “It is an unappropriated fund which the state or government may dispose of as it pleases without injustice to anybody. If the fund were applied to paying off the public debt of the empire nobody could complain of injustice, because every colony as a whole, and the buyers of land in particular, would still enjoy all the intended and expected benefits of sufficient price upon new land. If the fund were thrown into the sea as it arrived, there would still be no injustice, and no reason against producing the fund in that way.” This is a very strong way of putting it; but Mr. Wakefield meant to assert that the consideration of the use to which the fund arising from the sale of land might be applied, was no part of his plan. Let others decide as to that. He had seen that the grants of vast areas of land to men who had taken themselves out with a certain amount of capital and a certain number of fellow emigrants, had not produced colonial success. There was the terrible example of Western Australia before him. The land was not occupied, and was not tilled. Each new-comer thought that he should have a share of the land, rather than that he should perform a share of the labour. I would not, however, have it supposed that I am an admirer generally either of Mr. Wakefield’s system of colonization, as given in his book, or of his practice as carried out in New Zealand. He was right in maintaining that all land should be sold for a price so high as to prevent, at any rate for a time, the formation of large private estates in the hands of individuals, who would be powerless to use such estates when possessed. In almost all beyond that,—as in regard to his idea that English society, under the presidency of some great English magistrate, should be taken out to the young colony “with all the good, but without the evil,”—he is I think Utopian. Of his own doings as a colonizer I shall have to speak again in reference to New Zealand.

Mr. Wakefield’s plan was by no means adopted as a whole by the Act of 1834, in conformity with which the new colony was to be founded. In 1831 an attempt had been made to obtain a charter for forming a company, by which the new colony was to be planted in strict accordance with Mr. Wakefield’s principle. But this scheme broke down, and in 1834 the Act was passed. Under this Act it was provided that the land should be sold in small blocks,—no doubt at a “sufficient price,”—and that the money so realised should be applied to immigration. What the “sufficient price” should be Mr. Wakefield had never stated. Indeed it would then have been impossible, and is still equally impossible, that any price should be fixed as the value of a commodity, whose value varies in accordance with climate, position, and soil.

The impossibility of fixing a price for land, and yet the apparent necessity of doing so, has been the greatest difficulty felt in arranging the various schemes of Australian colonization. At first sight it may seem easy enough. Let the land be put up to auction, and let the purchaser fix the price. But when the work was commenced it was necessary to get new settlers on to the land, who knew nothing of its relative value, who could not tell whether they could afford to give 5s. or £5 an acre for it and then live upon it. These new-comers required to be instructed in all things, and in nothing more than as to the proper outlay of their small capitals. And the system of auction, when it did come to prevail in the sale of crown lands, was found to produce the grossest abuses,—I think I may say the vilest fraud. Men constituted themselves as land agents with the express purpose of exacting black-mail from those who were really desirous of purchasing. “I will be your agent,” such a one would say to the would-be purchaser. “I will buy the land for you, at a commission of a shilling an acre. You can buy it for yourself, you say. Then I shall bid against you.” This system has prevailed to such an extent that the agency business has become an Australian profession, and men who did not want an acre of land have made fortunes by exacting tribute from those who were in earnest. As a rule, 20s. an acre has been the normal price fixed in these colonies generally,—though from that there have been various deviations. In South Australia proper,—that is in South Australia exclusive of the northern territory,—the Crown has never alienated an acre for less than 20s. an acre. Mr. Wakefield seems to have considered that 40s. an acre should have been demanded from the early settlers in the new colony,—but he would fix no sum, always adhering to his term of a “sufficient price.”

The Act required that the money produced by the sale of lands should be employed in bringing immigrants into the country; but this requirement has not been fulfilled. A public debt was soon accumulated, and the colony decided that the proceeds of the land should be divided into three parts,—that a third should go to immigration, a third to the public works, and a third to the repayment of the public debt. But this arrangement has again gone to the wall, and the money produced is now so much revenue, and is like other revenue at the disposal of the House of Assembly. But the Act of 1834 enjoined also that no convicts should ever be sent to South Australia, and this enactment has never been infringed. It also decreed that, as soon as the population of the new colony should have reached 50,000, a constitution, with representative government, should be granted to it. This, too, was carried out with sufficient accuracy. At the close of 1849 the population was 52,904, and in 1850 the British Parliament conferred on the colonists the power of returning elected members to serve in the Legislative Council.

I should hardly interest my readers, if I were to dilate upon all the success and all the failures which the promoters of the South Australian plan encountered. But it is well that they should understand that there was a plan, and that the work was not done from hand to mouth,—that South Australia did not progress accidentally, and drift into free institutions, as was the case with the other Australian colonies. There was much both of success and of failure; but it may be said that the attempt was made in a true spirit of philanthropy, and that the result has been satisfactory if not at first triumphant. Mr. Wakefield, Mr. Hutt,—now Sir William Hutt,—Colonel Torrens, and Mr. Angas were chief among those to whom the colony is indebted for its foundation. The first vessels sent out were dispatched by the South Australian Company, of which Mr. Angas was the chairman. They arrived in 1836, but the new-comers knew nothing of the promised land before them. At the bottom of Gulf St. Vincent, lying off a toe of the land, as Sicily lies off from Italy, is Kangaroo Island. It is barren, covered with thick scrub, and deficient in water. No more unfortunate choice could have been made by young settlers. But here the first attempts were made, and here still linger a few descendants of the first pioneers, who live in primitive simplicity together. They have a town called Kingscote, on Nepean Bay. Mr. Sinnett, in his account of the colony, says that he was there in 1860-61, and that then there were about half-a-dozen houses, chiefly occupied by the descendants and connections of one old gentleman. Such was the fate of the earliest settlement formed by the South Australian Company.

But Nepean Bay was soon relinquished as the future home of the would-be happy colonists. Later in 1836 Colonel Light arrived, sent out as the surveyor-general by the government at home, and Captain Hindmarsh as the first governor of the new colony. There was still much difficulty before a site for the new town was chosen, and apparently much quarrelling. Adelaide, which was to be the earthly paradise of perfected human nature, was founded amidst loud recrimination and a sad display of bitter feeling;—but the site was chosen, and was chosen well, and the town was founded. Captain Hindmarsh, however, was recalled in 1838, as having failed in his mission, and Colonel Light died in 1839. Captain Hindmarsh was replaced by Colonel Gawler, who went to work with great energy in making roads and bridges,—and running the colony into debt over and above the funds on which it was empowered to draw. The colony was insolvent, and they who had advanced cash on bills drawn by the governor were for a while without their money. It seemed as though the great attempt would end in failure. The colony, with a revenue of only £30,000, had attained an annual expenditure of £150,000 and a public debt of £300,000.1 Such was the condition of South Australia when Captain (now Sir George) Grey succeeded Colonel Gawler. Under his influence the expenditure was checked, and money was lent by the British Parliament. From that time forward the colony flourished. The debt was repaid, and Elysian happiness was initiated.

1 I take these figures from Mr. Sinnett’s work.

The real prosperity of South Australia commenced with the discovery of copper at the Burra mines in 1845. As I shall say something of the great wealth which has accrued to the colony from her copper in a following chapter, I will only remark here that as gold produced the success of Victoria, so did copper that of South Australia. But the gold in the former was very nearly ruinous to the success of the latter. In 1851 began the rush of diggers to the Victorian gold-fields, and so great was the attraction that for a time it seemed that the whole male population of South Australia was about to desert its home. I will again quote Mr. Sinnett: “Shipload after shipload of male emigrants continued to leave the port during many consecutive months, while thousands more walked or drove their teams overland; the little-trodden overland route becoming the scene of active traffic,—the principal camping-places being every night lighted up by the numerous camp-fires of parties of travellers. At the same time that the men went, the money went with them. The banks were drained of coin, and trade partially ceased. Scores of shops were closed, because the tradesmen had followed their customers to the diggings. The streets seemed to contain nothing but women; and strong feelings were entertained that no harvest would be sown, and that, allured by the more glittering attractions of the gold colony, the small landed proprietors, who formed so important a section of our society, would permanently remain away, selling their land here for whatever trifle it would fetch.” This is a strongly drawn picture of the state of all Australian society at the time. There was one general rush to the gold-fields, and men for a time taught themselves to believe that no pursuit other than the pursuit of gold was worthy of a man’s energies. South Australia had no gold-fields, and therefore the current of emigration was all away from her. For a time the gloom was great. But the runagates soon found that everything was not bright in the rich land,—and they returned to their homesteads, many of them with gold in their hands. Though there was great terror in the colony when the exodus was taking place, the opinion is now general that South Australia gained more in wealth than it lost by the discovery of the Victorian gold.

South Australia is at present possessed of a representative government,—as are all the other Australian colonies, except Western Australia. But during the early years of her existence she, as well as the others, was subject to government from our Colonial Office at home. There was from the first a feeling averse to this, which no doubt greatly assisted in producing the troubles by which the early governors were afflicted. They who had been instrumental in founding the colony were hearty Liberals, attached to religious freedom, altogether averse to Established Churches, and anxious for self-rule. For men coming out in such a spirit, but coming out nevertheless with the aid and furtherance of the home government, there were of course trials and crosses. They desired to rule themselves,—as the Pilgrim Fathers had done in Massachusetts. But the office in Downing Street would not relinquish its authority to colonists who might be visionary, and were certainly ambitious. On the other hand, men who were disposed to devote their time and fortunes to a system of philosophical colonisation were apt to feel that their scheme should not be made subject to the interference which a convict colony might probably require. There were troubles, and those two first governors, Captain Hindmarsh and Colonel Gawler, had hot work on their hands. Colonel Robe, who in 1845 succeeded Captain Grey as governor, and who as a military man felt that he was governing the colony on behalf of the Crown rather than on that of the colonists, gave great offence,—especially by providing State endowment for religion, a point as to which the founders of the colony had been particularly sensitive. But a good time was coming. When 50,000 inhabitants had settled themselves on the land, then would those inhabitants be entitled to govern themselves; and then any governor who might be sent to them from the old country would be no more than that appanage of royalty which serves as a binding link between the parent country and its offspring. Then they would make laws for themselves; then they would not have State endowment for clergymen more than for doctors or lawyers; then would their Elysium have truly been initiated.

The work of governing the colony had indeed been commenced with some little attempt at double government. There was a board of South Australian Commissioners in London, and when Captain Hindmarsh came out as governor, there was appointed a certain member of this Board to act as resident commissioner in Adelaide, and to report direct to the commissioners at home. Colonel Gawler and his successor, Captain Grey, held, however, the joint offices of governor and resident commissioner,—so that very little came of the arrangement as a check upon the power of Downing Street. In 1842 the office of resident commissioner was altogether abolished, and the Act of Parliament by which this was done provided for the appointment of a Legislative Council of eight, the whole of which, however, was to be nominated by the Crown. In 1850,—when the requisite population had been achieved, the colonists were allowed to elect two-thirds of the Legislative Council, the number of councillors being raised from eight to twenty-four. But this did not long satisfy the cravings of the people for self-government. In other Australian colonies,—especially in the neighbouring colony of Victoria,—demands for free constitutions were being made at the same time; and what colony could have a better right to be free than South Australia, established, as she had been, on philosophical and philanthropical principles?

The Council gave way to the people, and the governor gave way to the Council; but they did not at first give way enough. In 1853 they passed a bill,—subject to confirmation at home,—creating two houses of parliament, of which the Lower House,—to be called the House of Assembly,—should be elective. The members were to be elected for three years, subject of course to dissolution by the governor. But the members of the Legislative Council, to consist of twelve members, were to be appointed for life by the governor. It should be remembered by all who desire to study the form of government and legislative arrangement in these colonies, that members of the Upper House are nominated by the Crown,—and therefore, in fact, by the minister of the day,—in New South Wales and Queensland, but are elected by the people in Victoria and South Australia. In 1853, however, when the Council in South Australia was sitting, with the view of framing a new constitution for the colonies, the question was still unsettled as to any of these colonies. Queensland had not commenced her career. In New South Wales it had been decided that the existing Legislative Council should pass a constitution, but that it should be one under which the future Upper House of the colony should be nominated by the Crown; and an Act to this effect was passed accordingly on 21st December, 1853. No doubt the proposed action of the sister colony was well known and well discussed in Adelaide, the party of the government feeling that a constitution which was supposed to suit New South Wales might well suit South Australia; and the colonists themselves feeling that, however willing the old-fashioned people of New South Wales might be to subject themselves after the old-fashioned way to government nominations, such a legislative arrangement was by no means compatible with the theory of self-rule, under which they had come out to the new country. A petition against the bill was sent home,—a petition praying that the assent of the Crown, for which it had as a matter of course been reserved, might not be given to it. The petition was supposed to represent the feeling of the colony, and the bill was therefore sent back for reconsideration. The Legislative Council was dissolved, and a new Council elected and nominated,—with sixteen elected and eight nominated members. This Council was obedient to the will of the people, and passed the constitution which is now in force. The new Legislative Council was to be elective, and not nominated; and the governor was to be without the power of dissolving it. It was to consist of eighteen members, six of whom should retire every four years,—so that when the arrangement came to be in full force, as it is now, every member would have a seat for twelve years. The elections were to be made by the country at large. At each election any man possessed of the franchise for the Upper House would vote for any six candidates he pleased, and the six having the majority of votes would come in as returned by the entire colony. When speaking in a future chapter of the acting legislature of the colony, I will give my reasons for disapproving of this form of election. It was adopted, and, having the general approval of the colony, was confirmed by the Crown at home, and is now the law of the land. The second chamber was to consist, and still does consist, of thirty-six members, to be elected for three years each. An elector for the Council must possess a £50 freehold, or a leasehold of £20 per annum, or occupy a dwelling-house valued at £25 per annum. Manhood suffrage prevails in reference to electors for the Lower Chamber, it being simply requisite that the elector’s name should have been six months on the roll, and that he shall be twenty-one. A member of the Council must be thirty-four years old, born a subject or naturalised, and a resident in the colony for three years. The qualification of a member for the Legislative Assembly is the same as that for an elector.

This constitution was proclaimed in the colony in October, 1856, and the first parliament elected under it commenced its work on April 22, 1857. Thus constitutional government and self-rule were established in South Australia. With such a parliament responsible ministers were, as a matter of course, a part of the system, and on 24th of October, 1856, five gentlemen undertook the government of the colony as chief secretary, attorney-general, treasurer, commissioner of crown lands and immigration, and commissioner of public works. From that day to the period of my visit to the colony,—April, 1872,—there had been no less than twenty-four sets of ministers; but the cabinet remained the same, with the five officers whom I have named.