ADELAIDE.
Adelaide is a pleasant, prosperous town, standing on a fertile plain,
about seven miles from the sea, with a line of hills called the Mount
Lofty Range forming a background to it. On 31st December, 1871, the
city proper contained 27,208 inhabitants, and the suburbs, so called,
contained 34,474, making a total of 61,682 persons either living in
the metropolis, or so closely in its neighbourhood as to show that
they are concerned in the social and commercial activity of the city.
On the same date the entire population of the colony was 189,018.
Adelaide alone, therefore, contains very nearly a third of the life
of the whole community of South Australia. This proportion of urban
to rural population,--or I may perhaps better say of metropolitan to
non-metropolitan,--is very much in excess of that which generally
prevails in other parts of the world.
The same result has come of the immigration to the other great
Australian colonies, though not quite to the same extent. The
population of Melbourne and its suburbs up to the beginning of 1872 was
206,000, and that of the colony was 755,000. The population of Sydney
and its suburbs was 136,000, and that of New South Wales 500,000. In
each case the population of the one city with its suburbs is between a
third and a fourth of that of the entire colony, and in each case the
proportion of urban to rural population is unusually high.
It may, perhaps, be taken as a rule,--though a rule with very wide
exceptions,--that the produce of a country comes from the industry of
those who live out of the metropolis, and that they who live in the
metropolis exercise their energies, and make or mar their fortunes,
in the management of that produce. Politicians, lawyers, merchants,
government officials, and even retail dealers, with the concourse of
people who are got together with the object of providing for them,
form a community which can hardly be said to be, itself, productive,
though it gives to the products of a country very much of the value
which they possess, and which they would not possess without such
metropolitan arrangement. I do not know that any political economist
has as yet cared to inquire what proportion of the population of a
community should be metropolitan,--so that the affairs of the community
might be ordered in the very best manner. Nor could such inquiry be
made with any exact result, as the circumstances of countries and of
towns vary very greatly; but the proportions of population as shown in
the Australian cities above named cannot be taken as showing a healthy
state of things. It goes towards proving that what we may perhaps call
the pioneer immigration into these colonies has been checked,--a fact
of which we have much other proof. The men who are here, and the men
who come afresh, prefer the city, and eschew a life of agricultural
labour. The nomadic race of miners will rush after tidings of gold,
and will form communities of their own; but the fields of Australia,
the vast territories of the continent which we would fain see bearing
crops of wheat and Indian maize, as do the vast prairies of the central
States of America, do not entice the population. It will be said, and
said truly, that if a people can find a living in a city, with all
their wants supplied to them by caterers near at hand, why should such
a people encounter the hardships of the backwoods,--or bush, as it is
called in Australia? Why should not a man stay in town, if he can live
in town? We all feel that, as regards any individual man, the argument
is good;--but we feel at the same time that cities without country to
feed them cannot long be continued; and that a community with extensive
means of management, and sparse powers of production, is like a human
body without arms or legs. What is the use of the best stomach which
nature ever gave to a man without the means of filling it?
It seems to be the case that immigrants coming to the colony stick
too closely to the towns,--and are unwilling to encounter the rough
chances of agricultural or pastoral life, as long as any means of
living is open to them in the cities. The evil, if it be an evil, must
cure itself as rural wages advance in proportion to city wages. In the
meantime, it is worthy of remark,--and of speculation as to the causes
of the fact,--that the city populations of Australia are excessive. As
the excess in Adelaide is greater than elsewhere, I have raised the
point while speaking of the capital of South Australia.
Perhaps no city, not even Philadelphia, has been laid out with a
stronger purpose of regularity and order than has been shown in
the founding and construction of Adelaide. Adelaide proper, as
distinguished from North Adelaide,--which has been allowed to deviate
somewhat from the good manner of the parent city,--stands in exact
conformity with the points of the compass. The streets all run north
and south, or east and west. There are five squares,--or open spaces
so designated,--one in the centre, and the other four at certain fixed
intervals. At the extremities of the town, on the northern, southern,
eastern, and western sides there are four terraces. That, however, on
the eastern side has been allowed to take a devious course, as the city
to the south is longer than it is at the north. But there is a precise
regularity even in this irregularity. This terrace on the map of the
town takes the form of a flight of steps, for nothing so irregular as a
sloping or diagonal line has been permitted in the arrangement of the
streets. To me the Quaker-like simplicity of such urban construction
never renders easy any practical conception of the topography. I find
it quite as easy to lose my way in Philadelphia or Adelaide as I do
in the old parts of Paris, or in the meandering lanes of such a city
as Norwich. I forget which is north and which west, and what set of
streets run at right angles to what other set. I never was able to find
my way about Adelaide. But for a man with a compass in his pocket, a
clear calculating brain, and a good memory, the thing must be very
easy. The northern half of the town is the West End. About midway on
the Northern Terrace is Government House, and opposite to it is the
Adelaide Club. The Houses of Parliament are close, on the same terrace.
King William Street, the High Street of the town, runs at right angles
from the North Terrace to Victoria Square, which is the centre of the
city. Here, in King William Street, is congregated the magnificence
of Adelaide,--comprising the Town Hall, the Public Offices, the Post
Office, and various banks, and many of the most money-making shops.
The one building in Adelaide on which the town most prides itself,--and
of which at the same time the colony is half ashamed because of the
expense,--is the Post Office. I was gratified by finding that the
colonies generally were disposed to be splendid in their post-offices
rather than in any other buildings,--for surely there is no other
public building so useful. At Brisbane, when I was there, they were
building a fine post-office. At Sydney they had nearly completed a
magnificent post-office, of which I have spoken in its proper place.
At Melbourne I found a very large post-office indeed,--though, as I
thought, one not very convenient to the public. And here at Adelaide
the Post Office is the grandest edifice in the town. It is really a
beautiful building, with a large centre hall, such as we had in London
as long as we could afford ourselves the luxury. We have built up our
hall, compelled by exigencies of space and money,--compelled as I
think by a shabby regard to space and money. It will be long before
the authorities of Adelaide will be driven to perpetuate a similar
architectural meanness,--for surely such a post-office will be more
than ample for the population for many a year to come. I went over
the building, and knowing something of post-offices, I regret to say
that the arrangements might have been improved by consultation with
English officials. As regarded the building as a building, it is a
credit to Adelaide, and would be an ornament to any city in Europe. The
government offices are not magnificent,--but are pleasant, commodious,
and sufficient. The Town Hall is a fine room, and forms a portion of
a very handsome building. In such luxuries as town-halls, large public
concert-rooms, public ball-rooms, and the like, the Australian cities
greatly beat our own. I do not say that there is any such an edifice
on the Australian continent as St. George’s Hall at Liverpool,--but
then neither is there any town with half the number of inhabitants that
Liverpool contains. Adelaide itself has less than 30,000, and I doubt
whether there be any town in England with double that number which has
such a chamber for public purposes as that of which I am speaking. I
am sure there is none with four times the number that has a theatre
so pretty, so well constructed, and so fit for its purpose as the
Adelaide Theatre. Even little Perth with its 6,000 souls has a grand
town-hall. In almost every municipality,--even in those of the suburbs
of such a town as Adelaide,--halls are erected for public purposes,
for speeches, balls, concerts, and the like. In this respect our
children in Australia take after their cousins in the United States.
In regard to banks also Adelaide flourishes greatly. I must not name
any one in particular, lest it be thought that I am making return for
accommodation given; but, such was their grandeur, that I felt of them
generally that the banking profits in South Australia must be very
great, or such edifices could not have been erected.
On the farther or southern side of the square are the Law Courts, as to
which I was informed that that intended for the Supreme Court was not
used as intended, being less convenient than an older building opposite
to it. I did not go into either of them.
Adelaide is well provided with churches,--so much so that this
speciality has been noticed ever since its first foundation. It was
peculiarly the idea of those who formed the first mission to South
Australia, that there should be no dominant Church;--that religious
freedom should prevail in the new colony as it never had prevailed
up to that time in any British settlement; and that the word dissent
should have no meaning, as there should be nothing established from
which to disagree. In spite of all this the Church of England has
assumed a certain ascendency, partly from the fact that a liberal and
worthy Englishwoman, now Lady Burdett-Coutts, endowed a bishopric at
Adelaide; but chiefly from the indubitable fact that they of the Church
of England who have flocked into the colony have been higher in wealth
and intelligence than those of any other creed. It would be singular
indeed had it not been so, seeing that the country from which they came
had for centuries possessed an established and endowed Church. But the
very fact that the Church of England boasted for itself even in this
colony a kind of ascendency, and the other fact that the colony had
been founded with the determination that there should be no ascendency,
have together created great enmity among the rival sects. While I was
in Adelaide a motion was before parliament,--as to which I heard the
debate then in progress,--for taking away the right of precedency
belonging by royal authority to the present bishop. Both Houses had
passed a bill, with the purpose of taking away from the prelate the
almost unmeaning privilege of precedence. It had been reserved by the
governor, with undeniable propriety, for the decision of the government
at home. The Secretary of State for the Colonies had returned a
dispatch, intended to be most conciliatory, stating that the Crown
would be happy to consider any proposition made by the colony, but
that the legislature of the colony could not be permitted to annul the
undoubted prerogative of the Crown to grant honours. But the matter was
again argued as though a great injury had been inflicted. It was well
understood by all men that in the event of a vacancy in the bishopric
no successor would be appointed by the Crown; and that any future
bishop,--appointed as he must be by a synod of the Church,--would have
conferred on him by his appointment no privilege of walking out of
any room before anybody else. But such is the feeling of the colony
in regard to religious freedom, and such the feeling especially in
the city of Adelaide, that a politician desirous of popularity felt,
not without cause, that a stroke of political business might be done
in this direction. Of all storms in a teacup, no storm could be more
insignificant than this. That the present bishop, who has the good
word of everybody, should be allowed to wear to the last the very
unimportant honour conferred upon him, would have seemed to be a matter
of course. He has, since, resigned the right. It was, however, thought
worth while not only to fight the question, but to re-fight it. The
matter is worthy of notice only as showing the feeling of the people on
the subject. I may here remark that Adelaide has been called especially
a city of churches, so strong has been the ambition of various sects to
have it seen publicly that their efforts to obtain places of worship
worthy of their religion have been as successful as those of their
sister sects. The result has tended greatly to the decoration of the
town. Among them all, the Church of England is, at the present moment,
by no means the best represented. A cathedral, however, designed by
Butterfield, is now rising as fast as its funds will permit.
All round the city there are reserved lands, of which I may best
explain the nature to English readers by calling them parks for the
people. These reserves are of various widths in different parts, but
are full half a mile wide on an average. They are now being planted,
and are devoted to air and recreation. I need hardly explain that they
cannot as yet rival the beauty and the shade of our London parks: but
that they will do so is already apparent to the eye. And they will
have this advantage,--which, indeed, since the growth of the town
towards the west belongs also to our London parks,--that they will be
in the middle, not on the outside, of an inhabited city. As Adelaide
increases in population, these “reserves” will be in the midst of the
inhabitants. But they will have also this additional advantage,--which
we in London do not as yet enjoy, in spite of efforts that have been
made,--that they will not be a blessing only to one side or to one end
of the city. They will run east and west, north and south, and will be
within the reach of all Adelaide and her suburbs. There are here also
public gardens,--as there are in every metropolis of the Australian
colonies. The gardens of Adelaide cannot rival those of Sydney,--which,
as far as my experience goes, are unrivalled in beauty anywhere.
Nothing that London possesses, nothing that Paris has, nothing that New
York has, comes near to them in loveliness. But, as regards Australian
cities, those of Adelaide are next to the gardens of Sydney. In
Melbourne the gardens are more scientific, but the world at large cares
but little for science. In Sydney, the public gardens charm as poetry
charms. At Adelaide, they please like a well-told tale. The gardens at
Melbourne are as a long sermon from a great divine,--whose theology is
unanswerable, but his language tedious.
I have said that the city has a background of hills called the Mount
Lofty Range,--so called by Captain Flinders when he made his first
survey. The only pretension to landscape beauty which the city
possesses is derived from these mountains. It was indeed said many
years ago by one much interested in Adelaide, that she was built on a
“pretty stream.” The “stream” is called the Torrens, after one of the
founders of the colony, but I utterly deny the truth of the epithet
attached to it. Anything in the guise of a river more ugly than the
Torrens it would be impossible either to see or to describe. During
eleven months of the year it is a dry and ugly channel,--retaining
only the sewer-wards property of a river. In this condition I saw it.
During the other month it is, I was told, a torrent. But the hills
around are very pretty, and afford lovely views and charming sites for
villa residences, and soil and climate admirably suited for market
gardens. As a consequence of this latter attribute Adelaide is well
supplied with vegetables and fruit. By those who can afford to pay the
price already demanded for special sites, beautiful nooks for suburban
residences may still be obtained.
The city receives its water from an artificial dam constructed about
eight miles from it, but the reservoir used when I was there had been
deemed insufficient for the growing needs of the town. A larger dam,
calculated to hold innumerable gallons, had been just finished as
far as the earthworks were concerned, and was waiting to be filled
by the winter rains. A tunnel had been made through the hillside for
its supply,--so that it might water Adelaide and all her suburbs for
generations to come. But generations come so quickly now, that for
aught I can tell Adelaide may want a new dam and infinitely increased
gallons before one generation has entirely passed away. If it be
so, I do not doubt but that the new dam and all the gallons will be
forthcoming. While speaking of water, I must acknowledge that during
three months of the year water is a matter of vital consideration to
the inhabitants of Adelaide. I was not there in December, January, or
February; but from the admission of inhabitants,--of Adelaideans not
too prone to admit anything against their town,--I learned that it can
be very hot during those three months. I liked Adelaide much,--and
I liked the Adelaideans; but I must confess to my opinion that it
is about the hottest city in Australia south of the tropics. The
heat, however, is not excessive for above three months. I arrived in
the first week of April, and then the weather was delightful. I was
informed that the great heats rarely commence before the second week in
December. But when it is hot, it is very hot. Men and women sigh for 95
in the shade, as they, within the tropics, sigh for the temperate zones.
But in all respects such as that of water,--in regard to pavements,
gas, and sewers, in regard to hospitals, lunatic asylums, institutions
for the poor, and orphanages,--the cities of Australia stand high;
and few are entitled to be ranked higher than Adelaide. I had an
opportunity of seeing many of these institutions, including the gaol
inside the city and the gaol outside; and I saw some of them under
the auspices of one who was perhaps better entitled to judge of them
than any other man in the colony. It seemed to me that they were
only short of absolute excellence. When I remembered how small was
the population, how short a time had elapsed since the place was a
wilderness, how limited the means, how necessarily curtailed were the
appliances at the command of what we should call such a handful of
men,--and when I remembered also what I have seen in our own workhouses
at home, what I have heard of some of our own gaols, what but a few
years since prevailed in many of our own lunatic asylums,--I could not
but think that the people of Adelaide had been very active and very
beneficent. Of course every new town founded has the advantage of all
the experience of every old town founded before it. It is easier for
a new country, than for an old country, to get into good ways. No man
has visited new countries with his eyes open without learning so much
as that. But, not the less, when the observer sees 60,000 people in a
new city, with more than all the appliances of humanity belonging to
four times the number in old cities, he cannot refrain from bestowing
his meed of admiration. I will now finish my remarks about this town
with saying that no city in Australia gives one more fixedly the idea
that Australian colonisation has been a success, than does the city of
Adelaide.