BATHURST IN THE 1830's

by an anonymous widow in the Bathurst Times
From the Bathurst Times, 1 December 1901

The Journey Up

The lady who steps into the train at Redfern at ten in the morning, and, after a bracing trip over the mountains, leaves it at Bathurst in the early evening, just tired enough to enjoy her night's rest, can hardly imagine what the journey meant to her sister of 70 years ago. This was the manner of our coming. From Sydney to Penrith was the first stage of our journey, and even that required changing of vehicles, for the first portion to Parramatta, was traversed in the mail coach, and then we transferred to a gig. At Penrith we were hospitably entertained by Mr. James "Smith" superintendent of convicts, and on the arrival of horses from Bowenfels next morning, we started, Mr. Smith escorting us. We got our first taste of mountain roads when we reached old Lapstone hill, with its three zig-zags. The hill was covered with loose waterworn stones of varying sizes, much resembling the lapstone of the shoemaker, hence the name. At the top of the second zigzag I came within an ace of ending my journey. A dray loaded with wood was rounding the corner, and the wheels skidding at the turn, the load struck my horse violently on the legs. He reared and turned with a spring, landing with his forefeet on the very edge of the precipice down which rattled the stones struck as he came to a stand. My brother and Mr. Smith were horror stricken, but the latter, with the quick resourcefulness of the bushman, was off his horse in a twinkling, and had mine by the bridle ere I well knew what was happening. At the top of the hill our genial host and guide handed us over to the mailman, a mounted policemen, who carried the whole of the weekly mail in a small piece of leather strapped on to the front of the saddle. The postage from Sydney to Bathurst was then one shilling per letter. The Sydney Morning Herald was issued weekly and was not half the size of one our Bathurst dailies. We reached Springwood without further incident and were glad to rest there that night. Next day we made the Weatherboard our terminus, and but for the excessive heat--it was in the month of February--would have enjoyed the journey. The Weatherboard, in those somewhat unimaginative days, took its name from the house of accommodation which was its outstanding feature--a most uncomfortable place, where the holes in the walls, which one could hardly call windows, were closed at night by rough shutters, kept in place by a couple of logs leant against them from the outside. The next day Mount York was reached, and the following day we set out for Wallerawang. Our police postal escort had gone ahead of us, so we were put into the care of a stockman going west. The descent of Mount York was most exciting. We dismounted, of course, and horses and riders skidded down the hillside, sitting down when the pace became too fast. At Wallerawang we were the guests of Mr. Andrew Brown, who, in the morning, provided us with fresh horses for the last stage of our journey., The road from Wallerawang was not too clearly defined; several new tracks and deviations were in process of making, and our stockman in charge seemed somewhat mixed in the matter of roads. Towards midday he got very uneasy, and finally declared that we had lost the way, and, admonishing us to stay where we were galloped to the top of the nearest rise to take his bearings. In his absence we heard a sound like an avalanche tearing down the mountain side, and ere we were aware of what was the cause of it, a mob of wild cattle were about us, surveying us in that wild, noisy way which is not indicative of friendly intent. However, before they had decided on any source of action, our guide galloped down brandishing his stockwhip and they vanished as quickly as they had come. Our friend assured us that his heart was in his mouth when he came in sight of us and our visitors. he was very certain I was the first lady they had very seen, and astonishment, not chivalry had prevented their stampeding over us. We spent a quiet Sunday at Sorn Bank, Green Swamp singing like the Psalmist the "Lord's song in a strange land"; and on Monday Mr. Campbell escorted us to Kelloshiel, where we were the guests of Mr. and Mrs. Ranken, till our quarters in Bathurst were ready. On the way we called at Kelso rectory, and were kindly received by the Rev. Mr Keane. We were not sorry to complete our journey, for the whole experience was too novel to be pleasant. The heat, the loneliness, the sombre colouring and monotony of the bush, the discomforts of horseback travelling, and the painful shock (to those not inured to such spectacles) of coming upon chain gang after chain gang of convicts, making and mending the road, all tended to give the experience a depressing tone. This was certainly believed by the great kindness of those whose hospitality we enjoyed on the way. And the well known and regal kindness of those at this end made us quite forget the trials of the road.