ALLAN CUNNINGHAM'S EXPLORATIONS.
Few visitors to the Sydney Botanic Gardens can fail to notice a memorial
obelisk standing on a shady islet in the lower grounds. This monument,
as the inscription declares, was erected in memory of Allan Cunningham,
an eminent botanist, and for some time curator of these Gardens. But
beyond the scanty information here given, very little is now generally
known of the life and work of this worthy man. Restrained by that
modesty which is so often a concomitant of real genius, he shrank from
publicity during his own brief and busy lifetime; and posterity, ever
too forgetful of the obligations of the past, have allowed his
achievements to lapse into unmerited oblivion. This is flagrant
ingratitude which should be brought to an end by a generous endeavour to
resuscitate a heroic and patriotic memory.
Allan Cunningham was born at Wimbledon, England, on the 13th of July,
1791, and was of Scotch extraction on the father's side. Being
designated for the bar he entered in due time upon the legal profession,
but soon abandoned it as uncongenial to his tastes and habits. The study
of botany proved an irresistible fascination to young Allan, who soon
became a proficient in this science. Having been introduced to Sir
Joseph Banks, he obtained, through his influence, an appointment as
King's Botanist for Australia, with the view of furnishing the Royal
Gardens at Kew with a collection of new plants from the southern
hemisphere. He sailed, accordingly, for his destination; and, after
spending a short time in Brazil, landed in New South Wales, probably in
December, 1816. As noticed in a preceding chapter he was associated with
Oxley in his expeditions to the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers, and it was
during these wanderings that the young botanist conceived a passion for
exploration which did not leave him till the day of his death. This tour
being ended, Cunningham returned to Parramatta, where he fixed his home,
so far as he had one, during his life in Australia.
In the close of 1817, the _Mermaid_, under the command of Captain,
afterwards Admiral, King, was preparing to leave Port Jackson on a
voyage of discovery on the western coast of Australia. Cunningham, to
his intense satisfaction, received a letter from Sir Joseph Banks,
directing him to join this expedition, in the interest of botanical
science. Sailing through Bass' Strait the _Mermaid_ came to anchor in
King George's Sound and other harbours, which proved to be well suited
for the botanist's purpose, and yielded 300 species of new plants. With
this spoil he came home fully satisfied. His next essay in this field
was an excursion to Illawarra, which was always a favourite district
with him. But this ramble was only an interlude. In 1819 he again
joined Captain King in an expedition to the Macquarie Harbour, on the
western coast of Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania), where also he collected
many valuable specimens for the Kew Gardens. Soon after he was again
associated with the same navigator on another voyage to the
north-western coast. Still two more expeditions to the same coast were
undertaken and successfully carried out within the next two years. The
results in every case were highly successful, and the boundaries of
science gained further extension from these enterprises.
Having spent four years on these voyages with King, Cunningham became
inoculated with the spirit of adventure, and thirsted for an exploit on
his own account. The feat he proposed to himself was to open a practical
route from Bathurst to the Liverpool Plains. This splendid district, as
already narrated, had been discovered by Oxley three years previously;
but he had entered it from the western side--so to speak, by the back
door--on his journey from the marshes of the Macquarie. The discovery
had, consequently, been useless, and the Liverpool Plains were as yet
known only by name. Sir Thomas Brisbane, the Governor of the day,
entered heartily into Cunningham's scheme, having clearly understood the
importance of the object in view. Orders for an equipment were issued to
the full extent of the explorer's requirements. All things being ready
by the 31st of March, 1823, the party, consisting of the leader, with
five men, and five pack-horses, carrying provisions for ten weeks, left
Parramatta for Bathurst, which was reached on the 5th of April, and then
the northward journey commenced. After many weary stages, during which
the patience of the men and the strength of the horses were severely
tried, they reached the Warrambungle Mountains, which form the southern
boundary of the Liverpool Plains; but the difficulty in finding a
passage through this barrier appeared to be insuperable. The first
fortnight was spent to no purpose in attempting to discover an opening
on the south-eastern side. Almost in despair, the party retraced their
steps and fell back on a former encampment on the Goulburn River, the
principal tributary of the Hunter. Provisions were now getting short,
and the allowance had to be reduced; but, in spite of all these
dispiriting circumstances, Cunningham still resolved to prosecute his
enterprise by making another struggle to find an entrance from a
different point. Turning now to the north-west, and searching along the
front of the range, he succeeded at last, on the 5th of June, in
discovering a gap which afforded a good passage into the Liverpool
Plains. To this entrance he gave the name of Pandora's Pass, believing
it would become the chief if not the only means of communication between
the settlers at Bathurst and the Hunter River and the occupants of the
plains. The following memorandum was buried in a valley immediately
below the pass:--
"After a very laborious and harassing journey from Bathurst, a party,
consisting of five persons, under the direction of Allan Cunningham,
H.M. Botanist (making the sixth individual), having failed of finding a
route to the Liverpool Plains, whilst tracing the south base of the
barrier mountains (before us, north), so far as 50 miles to the eastward
of this spot, at length, upon prosecuting their research under this
great mountain belt, north by west from this tree, to the very extensive
levels connected with the above-mentioned plains, of which the
southernmost of the chain is distant about 11 or 12 miles N.N.W. from
this valley, and to which a line of trees has been carefully marked,
thus opening an unlimited, unbounded, and seemingly well-watered country
N.N.W. to call forth the exertions of the industrious agriculturist and
grazier, for whose benefit the present labours of the party have been
extended.... Buried for the information of the first farmers who may
venture to advance so far to the northward as this vale; of whom it is
requested that this document may not be destroyed, but carried to the
settlement at Bathurst, after opening the bottle."
This memorandum was found a few years ago, and the explorer's directions
carried out. The object of the expedition being now accomplished, the
party returned on the homeward track, and Allan Cunningham reached
Parramatta on the 21st of July, 1823.
In the next important enterprise he is found associated with Oxley,
exploring the country around Moreton Bay. They surveyed the Brisbane
River, pushing up the stream as far as was practicable in their boat.
It turned out to have but a short course, and they were disappointed in
their expectation of being carried for some distance into the interior.
Yet this labour had the negative value of satisfying the public that the
Brisbane was not one of the great rivers of Australia. The King's
Botanist again found rich spoil for the Royal Gardens at Kew.
During the winter months of 1825, being again bent on travel, Cunningham
started for a northern tour. Leaving Parramatta, he crossed the
Hawkesbury and proceeded towards Wollombi, one of the tributaries of the
Hunter River. Still pushing ahead he reached Mount Danger, then
Pandora's Pass, and entered upon the Liverpool Plains. These he now
found to be a region of swamps and marshes as the consequence of a rainy
season. Having crossed this district as best he could, the ardent
traveller pressed on through Camden Valley and reached Dunlop's Head, at
no great distance from the River Darling, which, with a little
presentiment, he might soon have discovered and anticipated Captain
Sturt. But as the country was now beginning to dip perceptibly, being in
many places covered with water, which had accumulated during recent wet
weather, he deemed prudence the better part of valour, and abandoned a
hopeless enterprise. He was again in his own home by the 17th of June,
having travelled in all about 700 miles.
After a short season of rest, during which New Zealand was visited,
this untiring scientist returned to the colony and offered himself for
further exploration with renewed zest and zeal. The time was opportune,
for the Governor had been anxiously looking about for a suitable leader
to conduct an expedition to the distant north. Cunningham's offer was
therefore eagerly accepted, and ample provision made for his
requirements. All things being ready, the start was made on the 30th of
April, 1827, with six picked men and eleven heavily-laden horsemen. The
route skirted the western flank of the Liverpool Plains, and by the 11th
of May the party entered upon ground hitherto untrodden by civilized
man. A fine valley now opened to view, and was named the Stoddart, in
remembrance of an old friend of the explorer's. The Namoi River was next
forded, and by the 25th the hilly country on the west had sunk into the
plain. The scene that now lay before them will be best described in the
words of the leader of the expedition. "A level open interior of vast
expanse, bounded on the north and north-west by a distant horizon, broke
suddenly on our view. At north-west, more particularly, it was evident
to all of us that the country had a decided dip, and in that bearing the
line of sight extended over a great extent of densely wooded or brushed
land, the monotonous aspect of which was here and there relieved by a
brown patch of plain; of these some were so remote as to appear a mere
speck on the _ocean_ of land before us, on which the eye sought
anxiously for a rising smoke as indicative of the presence of the
wandering aborigines, but in vain; for, excepting in the immediate
neighbourhood of a river of the larger magnitude, these vast solitudes
may be fairly said to be almost entirely without inhabitants. We had now
all the high grounds on our right, or to the east of us, and before us,
to the north, a level wooded country." These plains which ran out
towards the western interior, having turned out to be drier than was
expected, the line of route was now directed more to the north and
north-west, with the result of discovering and crossing the Dumaresq
River, within a few days. The course next lay for some time through a
poor and inhospitable country in which the jaded horses fared badly
enough. By the 5th of June, this sterile belt was left behind, and now
the eyes of the patient explorers rested on one of the finest regions
they had ever beheld. For many a league north, east, and west the field
of vision was filled with a panorama of boundless plains, rolling downs,
and azure mountain ranges. This magnificent territory, rivalling a
principality in size, was clad with luxuriant vegetation and generally
well watered. The name Darling Downs was subsequently bestowed on this
fine country in honour of Governor Darling, and it now forms one of the
most valued possessions in the colony of Queensland. The average
elevation of this table-land Cunningham found to be about 1,800 feet
above sea-level. Had this worthy man performed no other public service
during his lifetime, the discovery of the Darling Downs would have
given him a strong claim on the gratitude of posterity.
Having now sufficiently realized the aim of the northern expedition,
Allan Cunningham ceased to push farther in that direction, and made
eastward for the coast. Here also was made an important discovery on a
smaller scale in the unexpected appearance of a fertile valley, with a
river of greater size than a mountain stream. To both the valley and the
river he gave the name of Logan, in compliment to the commander of the
penal settlement at Brisbane. The expedition tarried for some time in
this lovely vale, where both men and beasts of burden enjoyed
much-needed repose. Cunningham himself, who scarcely understood what
rest meant, botanized as usual, and examined the physical configuration
of the country. On a fine morning he scaled one of the impending peaks,
from the summit of which he obtained a comprehensive view of the
situation and its surroundings. To the south-east, at the distance of 60
or 70 miles, the towering cone of Mount Warning, the sailor's beacon,
rose in impressive grandeur; while towards the north-east the environs
of Moreton Bay were plainly visible. This latter revelation made it
obvious that the proper route to the Darling Downs would be from Moreton
Bay, by the Brisbane River, and through the Main Range. Hence it became
a matter of the first importance to find a passage through the
mountains, if within the bounds of possibility. An effort was
accordingly made, and an opening, as he believed, discovered, but its
complete verification had to be deferred till another opportunity. The
homeward journey was resumed on the 16th of June. On the 30th, the
Dumaresq River was crossed 50 miles above the outward bound track of the
expedition. In ten days more a large river was reached, and is now
well-known under the native name Gwydir. They next came upon a wooded
tract, reached by a descent of 1,200 feet, a sore task for the weary
horses. On the 19th the party were again on the Liverpool Plains, and a
few days' more travelling brought them to their welcome homes. They had
journeyed over 800 miles, and been absent thirteen weeks. One noteworthy
incident connected with the tour was the paucity of native inhabitants
met with in any of the districts. Only five times, from first to last,
had the black-fellows put in an appearance, and even then the explorers
had seen nothing but the colour of their skin.
Cunningham's health now began to give way, and he longed to return to
old England, to end his days in the land of his birth; but, before doing
so, he planned and executed another exploring excursion to Moreton Bay.
His principal object was to obtain certain evidence of the existence and
practicability of the pass, which he believed to have been already
discovered. After much rough work he had the good fortune to set this
question at rest and point out a passage into the Darling Downs, as he
had formerly done into the Liverpool Plains. This pass still retains
the name of Cunningham's Gap. The following succinct but sufficient
notice is found in the explorer's own notes:--"This pass, or door of
entrance from the sea-coast to a beautiful pastoral country of undefined
extent, seen from this point, was this day (25th August, 1828) visited
by Allan Cunningham and a convict servant, and the practicability of a
high road being constructed through it at some future day was most fully
ascertained. The pass is in latitude 23° 3' S., and longitude 152° 26'
E., and distant 54 statute miles from Brisbane Town." Four years later
he was able to carry out his purpose of returning to England; but his
heart was in Australia all the while, and he became impatient to get
back to its sunny skies and balmy air. On being offered the situation of
Colonial Botanist he accepted the appointment, and returned to the land
of so many of his labours; but his new office was not what he expected.
Besides keeping the Botanic Gardens, which would, alone, have been a
most congenial occupation, he was required to act as landscape gardener
for the upper classes and take charge of one hundred convicts, forty of
whom were lodged in the barracks within the Gardens, and for whose good
behaviour the curator was alone responsible. In addition to all this
drudgery he was compelled to grow vegetables for the Government
officials. Such servitude was breaking his heart, and it can surprise no
one to find him throwing up the appointment in disgust. This undignified
treatment of a man of shining merits is tartly alluded to in the
_Sydney Mail_ of the 29th January, 1838:--
"THE BOTANICAL, ALIAS THE KITCHEN GARDEN.--We have had frequently to
call the attention of the colonists to the fact that a kitchen garden,
under the pretence of a botanic garden, is supported in Sydney at an
expense of from £800 to £1,000 a year. We scarcely ever walk through
this garden without seeing some servant with a basket, carrying off
vegetables or fruit for Mrs. This or Mrs. That, the wife of some
official. Can't these people go to market and purchase their supplies as
independent persons do, instead of poaching on what is really public
property. Seriously we do say that such an impudent job should be done
away with. It is, in fact, so barefaced that Mr. Cunningham would no
longer consent to remain a mere cultivator of official turnips and
cabbages, and accordingly he has resigned the management of the Botanic
Garden in disgust."
This valuable life was now fast hastening to its close. Twenty-five
years of incessant labour, often performed under the most trying
circumstances, broke down a constitution never particularly robust, and
feeling this to be the case, Allan Cunningham retired from public view
into his own hired house--but only to die. At the early age of 48 years,
perceiving the hand of death to be upon him, he calmly resigned himself
to the will of his Maker, and died as becomes a Christian. He expired on
the 27th of June, 1839. Admiral King, who had stood his firm friend
during the quarter of a century of Cunningham's active life, refers to
his own bereavement in these touching words:--"Alas, poor Allan! He was
a rare specimen, quite a genus of himself; an enthusiast in Australian
geography; devoted to his own science, botany; a warm friend, and an
honest man; and, to crown all, when the time came, he resigned himself
into the arms of his Saviour without a murmur."