Note on sources
As textual analysis would make clear!, this piece is drawn especially from assorted wikipedia entries, edited and consolidated.
Discussions on the history and historiography of Australia's New England
Sailing ships, Stockton wharvesA week back ( Inverell Times, Glen Innes Examiner local history series) I gave an initial report on new local history writing in those two papers. I was going to report on the individual stories as they came out. However, since then I have discovered other papers also providing local history stories. I have decided that it would be more sensible do a weekly round-up instead of individual reports.
Vera over the past 17 years has donated to assist the University’s Cultural Collections (formerly Archives, rare Books & Special Collections Unit) in the Auchmuty Library. That has provided employment for over half a dozen people, who have accessioned over 637 boxes of regional research archives containing many thousands of individual items, digitised over 2.5 kms of Hunter Regional maps and plans, and many thousands of local photographic images that have had over 41.1 million hits on flickr, sponsored the creation of a Virtual 3D Colonial and Aboriginal Newcastle landscape and a Newcastle WOW smartphone app. Not a bad achievement for a pensioner from Stockton, New South Wales. We are forever thankful for this help, and for the cultural riches it has provided for the wider global community.As an original resident of Moscheto Island (now part of Kooragang Island), Mrs Vera Deacon became acquainted with the University Archives during her research work into the history of the Islands of Newcastle, especially her childhood home; Moscheto (or Mosquito Island).
Continuing my story of the establishment of wool selling in Newcastle, with P A Wright now joining the small group of activists, a new company was formed, the New England, North and Northwest Producers’ Co Ltd, later to be known as NENCO to sell wool and wheat through Newcastle.
The problems facing the new venture were formidable. Lacking capital, it faced entrenched opposition from the Wool Buyers’ Association as well as the Wool Brokers’ Association. Both were protective of the existing system. Neither could see any advantage at all in wool selling at Newcastle, only increased costs.
Wright had expected to gain support in Newcastle, including capital. However, the venture was too far outside the normal interests of the southern city and, in any case, seemed risky. Later Newcastle would adopt wool selling as its own, but for the present this lay far in the future.
Wright and his colleagues adopted a multi-pronged approach to the various barriers facing the venture.
They tried to establish relations with existing buyers and brokers. That move failed and perhaps as well. Had NENCO’s application to join the Brokers’ Association been accepted, the Association could have killed the concept by allocating Newcastle a sales quota that guaranteed commercial failure.
They also sought political and industry support. This did not give them immediate benefits, but provided a degree of protection against possible retaliation from existing interests.
Most importantly, they sought support and capital from major Northern wool growers. Accompanied by W E Tayler, Wright called on Colonel White at Bald Blair. In Wright’s words, White was widely regarded as one of the foremost men in the North. If he came in, the venture would gain immediate credibility.
White was not enthusiastic. To Wright’s dismay, White said that he would not take part; so far as he was concerned, they could sit on their own bottom. Thinking about it, White was to change his mind, to join NENCO as a shareholder and director. Other big graziers joined as well.
While it wasn’t clear at the time, this growing support gave NENCO the commercial edge to succeed. The grower members produced a substantial clip. They were prepared to sell this through Newcastle even if it meant lower prices, taking a lower return now to achieve their longer term objectives.
The first Newcastle sale took place on Thursday 1 November 1928. NENCO’s own premises were not ready, so the wool was displayed at the old Newcastle skating rink, with the auction held at the Church of England’s Tyrell Hall.
That sale was a disappointment. Of the 1,760 bales of wool on offer, only 25 per cent was sold, although 60 per cent was sold later. The scheme’s opponents crowed. It was a failure.
At this point, the support of the bigger growers became critical. They would sell their wool through Newcastle regardless. This was enough to guarantee ultimate success. The rest, as they say, is history.
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 18 June 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the columns are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for2014.
The photo from the Newcastle Regional Library shows a wool classer inspecting wool for sale in 1950.
Tuesday 19 February 2013, Newcastle. The last wool sales had begun. For the last time, the buyers, brokers and graziers gathered together. Unlike other centres where selling had become remote, the mob of woolgrowers and buyers who relished travelling to Newcastle to see the collective clip had never wavered, propping up hotels, restaurants and business. It was their sale, a major social outing.
Barbara Morley had served the wool brokers and growers breakfast, lunch and dinner for 27 years. Now she was to don her apron for the last time, serving dinner for up to two hundred people, enjoying a last chardy or chat with all the familiar faces.
‘Country folk are just so unbelievable, real gentlemen and so respectful – I’ll miss them.’’
The story now ending had begun many years before. During the 1920s, Northern graziers experienced difficulties in selling their late cut wool because of congestion in the Sydney wool stores. Wool shorn in October or November could not be sold until the following March, creating a cash flow hole. The problem had become so bad that some growers were selling their wool from the shed, taking a lower price just to get the cash.
A small group (J J Price, A E Hunter and W E Tayler) decided that the solution was to open wool sales in Newcastle. Newcastle was a deep water port with a direct rail connection that finished on the water front. Tayler came to see P A Wright to seek his support and to ask him whether he was prepared to join the board of the new venture.
PA, everyone called him PA if not always to his face, was frustrated. He had sold his own large clip from the shed in 1927. A strong supporter of self government for Northern New South Wales, Wright believed that existing institutional structures impeded local development. He was also a supporter of direct action; those experiencing problems should act to fix them at once as best they could.
Wright listened to Tayler’s arguments. The need was clearly there. The concept was attractive. But would it work in a practical sense? There was a big gap between that embryo group and the practical realities involved in creating a new wool selling centre in the face of entrenched institutional and commercial barriers.
Wright was a methodical practical man. However, that was combined with curiosity, with a willingness to observe and experiment and the ability to see visions and to pursue causes with a dogged persistence.
As a practical man, he did his own investigation, visiting Sydney for talks with wool brokers. As a visionary, he became convinced that part of the solution to Northern problems lay in the development of Newcastle as an export port for Northern produce. It wasn’t just wool. Northern wheat growers were experiencing similar problems trying to export through Sydney.
After reflection and investigation, Wright decided to support the project and join the board. I will continue this story in my next column.
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 11 June 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the columns are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.
Most Armidale people would know, I think, that the city was the site of the first tertiary institution in Australia founded outside a capital city. However, I suspect that few would know that it was neither the Armidale Teacher’s College nor the New England University College. It was, in fact, St John’s College.
English born, Arthur Vincent Green was elected bishop of Grafton and Armidale in 1894. During his seven-year episcopate he doubled the staff of the clergy, dedicated over eighty new churches and built a registry office and bishop's house at Armidale.
In 1898 he established a theological college, St John’s, to train future Anglican clergy. The College began with just four students in a single cottage. However, architect Horbury Hunt in what would be his last Armidale commission was asked to draw up plans for a permanent building. On 8 June 1898, the foundation stone was laid with the inscription “To the Glory of God.”
At this point I do not know who the first Warden of the College was. The first Warden I have found reference to is Arthur Henry Garnsey. Born in 1872, Arthur was educated at Sydney Grammar School and Sydney University. There he graduated with first class honours in Greek, captained the university cricket team and also won a 'blue' for tennis. Garnsey’s sporting interests probably had an impact on the College, for among the few photos I have found of St John’s Armidale are shots of the College’s tennis and rugby teams!
Garnsey was appointed Warden of the College in 1906. In 1914 he was made canon of St Peter's Cathedral; he was also examining chaplain to the bishops of Armidale from 1916 to 29.
The College’s original aim was to become the training centre for all Anglican clergy in NSW and Queensland. This was not done, but Garnsey continued the College’s development, before leaving in June 1916 to become Warden of St John’s at the University of Sydney.
There is then another gap in my records. However, in 1918 the Reverend E H Burgman was appointed as Rector. The following year, A P Elkin was appointed as a full time teacher and Deputy Warden. Now we have two people in Armidale that would become major figures in the history of Australian thought.
Under Burgman’s leadership, the College expanded its influence. Then came events that I don’t properly understand. Perhaps Armidale was just too far away. Perhaps, as has happened so often, there was a loss of local vision. Whatever, the Bishop of Newcastle offered the College a new site and greater support. In May 1926, the College relocated from Armidale to Morpeth in the Hunter Valley.
From an Armidale perspective, the loss was significant, although the College’s presence had helped add to the city’s reputation as an education centre, aiding the foundation of the Teacher’s College in 1928.
From a national perspective, the College in its new location would play a major role in the intellectual debates of the 1920s and 1930s.
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 14 May 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the columns are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014. The photo is a college group shot from the 1920s.
Continuing the story of my Hunter Valley history tour, Judith Wright’s Generations of Men (1959) chronicles the early story of her family. I wanted to visit some of the places described in the book and especially Dalwood House.
We set out on Easter Monday, detouring first to visit the Hunter Valley Gardens established by Bill and Imelda Roche. I had wanted to visit for a while, but had never found the time.
I enjoyed the gardens, but was struck again by the sheer scale of the tourist development. When I first visited Pokolbin, there were scattered vineyards but not much else. Now, fueled by proximity to Sydney, there are vineyards and resorts everywhere. All this began with George and Margaret Wyndham, Judith Wright’s great great grandfather.
George Wyndham was born at Dinton, Wiltshire in England in 1801. Educated at Harrow and Cambridge, Wyndham met Margaret, his wife to be, in Italy in 1825. They married in Brussels in 1827.
The couple decided to emigrate to NSW, sailing for Sydney on the George Horne in August 1827 along with several servants, cattle, sheep, horses, pigs, hounds, goods and chattels. The couple reached Sydney on Christmas Eve 1827. The following year, they settled near Branxton in the Hunter Valley, naming the property Dalwood after one of the Wyndham family farms at Dinton.
From Dalwood, George’s interests spread to include Collyblu on the Liverpool Plains, Bukkulla and Nullamanna near Inverell and Keelgyrah on the Richmond River, a total of some 200,000 acres or 80,937 hectares.
Importantly from the viewpoint of this story, George was interested in wine making. He quickly established a vineyard and began making wines. Both red and white varieties of grape were grown, principally hermitage, cabernet and shiraz. He also planted grapes on Bukkulla; thus establishing a Tablelands’ wine industry. Both Dalwood and Bukkulla wines won medals at European wine shows.
Sometime in 1828 or 1829, George began construction of a new house for his family, Dalwood House. It was this house that I wanted to visit, a house brought vividly alive by Judith in her book.
The house was a partial ruin when I last visited it forty years ago. It still is, although restoration efforts have stabilized the main structure. It’s not a grand house by later standards, but with some imagination you can get a feel for the life that surrounded it.
We wandered around in the sun while I took pictures, talking with my companion about its special features. Later over a very nice lunch on the terrace at Wyndham Estate wines, I thought what a wonderful tapestry our history makes.
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 7 May 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the columns are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for2014.
I spent Easter in the Hunter Valley. Most go for the wine. I like wine too, but in my case it was a history tour. I wanted to walk the ground to help me visualise things past. I don’t know about you, but I find that I can’t understand the history properly if I don’t understand the geography.
The tour began on Easter Saturday. We started with a short tour of the Broke Fordwich area. Here my interest was in part the current conflict between mining and wine, between industrialisation and village life. (Photo Caption: DEBATE: The mining industry is at loggerheads with many in the Hunter)
Mining has a long history in the North, beginning with coal in the Hunter. It is a story of national significance, although elements of that have been lost because of the way we write and research history. In the big picture focus that dominates so much history, the local and regional specifics are submerged. I find that sad, and fight against it as best I can.
A simple example to illustrate. Did you know that key elements of the Australian labor and union movements began in the North? I didn’t until I started researching and writing on Northern history.
From Broke Fordwich we drove to Singleton. Here I wanted to visit the Catholic Church and surrounding buildings. Why? Well, I had read the history of the Church in Singleton and of the Sisters of Mercy. Like the Ursulines in Armidale, they had become part of Northern history.
The visit did not disappoint. The Church was being prepared for Easter ceremonies, but we were allowed in. I stood there thinking of the past, before wandering around near the convent and school buildings,
From Singleton, the next stop was Morpeth on the Hunter. This was the big port for Northern New South Wales, the second largest port in the colony after Sydney, contending with Grafton for control of the vital Northern trade.
At Morpeth, the drays loaded with New England wool came in. From Morpeth, the drays went north, loaded with farm supplies.
The development of Newcastle as a port, the opening of the Great Northern Railway, would sideline Morpeth. Today it survives as a popular tourist centre, marked by its old buildings and its visitor thronged main street.
I will continue this story in my next column.
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 30 April 2014. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the columns are not on line outside subscription. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012, here for 2013, here for 2014.
Robert Dawson was the first Chief Agent of Australia’s first really large public company, the Australian Agricultural Company[i]. If he had not clashed with a Macarthur family determined to feather its own interests, he would not have been first suspended in April 1828, dismissed in January 1829. Had that not happened, he might not have written the two books he did, some of the first writing connected with New England.
Born in 1782 at Great Bentley, Essex, Dawson was educated at Dr Lindsay's Grove Hall School near Bow, returning to Essex to farm the family estate. In 1811 he married Anne Taylor. Ten years later, an agricultural depression forced him to Berkshire where he managed Becket, Viscount Barrington's estate. That move would affect the later naming of New England features including Barrington, the Barrington River and Barrington Tops.
In December 1824 an old school friend, John Macarthur junior, persuaded him to accept the post of chief agent in New South Wales for the newly formed Australian Agricultural Co. His key role was to establish and manage a new pastoral business based on a land grant of 1,000,000 acres (404,609 ha). In carrying out this role, he would be subject to a committee resident in NSW. This committee was entrusted by the directors in England with 'extensive discretionary powers,. Dawson was advised to accept their advice at all times.
On the surface, this made sense. The directors in England could hardly directly govern such a distant operation. They needed an on-ground supervising body made up of local experts. However, the committee was dominated by members of the Macarthur family, and this would case trouble.
Dawson had to organise many things. After buying stock in France, Saxony and Spain and recruiting workers, The Australian Agricultural Co party sailed for Sydney in the ships York and Brothers. On the trip, Dawson was assisted by his nephew John Dawson, then nineteen. In November 1825, the small convoy reached Sydney. On board were a party of 15 men, 14 women, 40 children, more than 600 sheep, 12 cattle and 7 horses.
Meantime, the local committee had been considered the three alternatives for the land grant suggested by Surveyor-General John Oxley. They concluded that the area between Port Stephens and the Manning River was most suitable for the company's activities, although this was not Oxley’s preferred site. After inspecting the area in January 1826, Dawson accepted this advice. He recommended that the whole establishment should be moved there as soon as possible. Later, Dawson would be criticised for not checking the other sites. Objectively, it is hard to see what else he could have done.
Dawson moved rapidly. By June 1826 headquarters had been established at Carrington on Port Stephens; by 1827 much land had been cleared and spacious stores and workshops erected. Dawson had already recognised that the humid coastal country was not suitable for sheep and had begun to move stock inland. His efforts attracted praise, including from James Macarthur who in May 1827 spoke highly of Dawson’s management and the progress being made.
Trouble now broke out. Dawson, concerned at the way the Company was being forced to buy old and diseased sheep from the local committee’s flocks, refused to buy more. 'I was no longer disposed”, he wrote to James Macarthur in June 1827, to make the Company Grant a burial ground for all the old sheep in the colony'.
James Macarthur moved against him. On 27 December 1827 he paid another to Carrington. This time, his report castigated Dawson for mismanagement and extravagance. He was accused of bad management and insubordination, of taking up land on the north bank of the Manning River and running his own flocks on it, of using the company's resources in exploring and settling it. John Macarthur stated: 'The concern cannot prosper because the Company's servants are only solicitous for their own interests', In April 1828 Dawson was suspended by the local committee and, on James Macarthur's report to the court of directors in London, was dismissed in January 1829.
Dawson fought back. Now in London, he published his Statement of the Services of Mr Dawson, as Chief Agent of the Australian Agricultural Company[ii]. Apart from providing details of the early days of a significant part of New England’s history, it is the first written record of corporate infighting in Australian history.
The following year, Dawson published a second book, The Present State of Australia; a Description of the Country, its Advantages and Prospects with Reference to Emigration: and a Particular Account of its Aboriginal Inhabitants[iii]. It was this book that really left his longer term mark. Nor only was it in part the story of the establishment of the Australian Agricultural Company, but it also became a fundamental source book on New England’s Aboriginal peoples. Dawson liked them, respected them and employed them.
Dawson’s efforts to achieve justice slowly had an effect. In 1836, after repeated representations to the Colonial Office, he was given land in New South Wales in recompense for the grant he had sought unsuccessfully from Sir Ralph Darling in 1828 even though such grants were now forbidden by law. He returned to New South Wales with his second wife in 1839 to superintend his estate, Goorangoola, on the upper Hunter: he also acquired a 100-acre (40 ha) grant at Little Redhead, near Newcastle. Soon after his return he was again appointed magistrate for the area. One of his last recorded actions in New South Wales was to advise on the Botany Bay water supply scheme for Sydney.
Dawson returned to England in 1862, dying in 1866 and was buried at Greenwich. He was survived by two sons and one daughter of his first marriage and by one son of his second. The elder son of his first marriage, Robert Barrington, became well known as a civil servant and pastoralist. In the end, even the directors of the company had some awareness of the wrong done. 'The misconduct of Mr. Dawson is far exceeded in culpability by that of the Committee whose orders he was to obey', the directors recorded.
[i] Material in this piece is drawn especially from E. Flowers, 'Dawson, Robert (1782–1866)', Australian Dictionary of Biography, National Centre of Biography, Australian National University, http://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/dawson-robert-1969/text2379, published in hardcopy 1966, accessed online 17 February 2014.
[ii] Statement of the Services of Mr Dawson, as Chief Agent of the Australian Agricultural Company. (London, 1829), accessed on-line. http://digital.slv.vic.gov.au/view/action/singleViewer.do?dvs=1392619628144~191&locale=en_US&metadata_object_ratio=10&show_metadata=true&preferred_usage_type=VIEW_MAIN&frameId=1&usePid1=true&usePid2=true 17 February 2014
[iii] The Present State of Australia; a Description of the Country, its Advantages and Prospects with Reference to Emigration: and a Particular Account of its Aboriginal Inhabitants, (London, 1830). Accessed online - . http://books.google.com.au/books?id=6swNAAAAQAAJ – 17 February 2014
There is a story, perhaps apocryphal, about a lecturer from the New England University College who went into a pub in Uralla and ordered a bottle of wine to go with dinner. After some scratching around, one was finally found. “Would you like a glass”, the waitress asked?
I mention this now because of Armidale’s recent focus on food and wine, including the forthcoming Under the Elms event at UNE. Many of we expats wish we could be there!
Even fifty years earlier, the Uralla pub story would have made no sense, for the Tablelands still grew and sold its own wine. By the time of the story, that had gone. I thought, therefore, that I should share with you the story of the rise and fall of the Tablelands’ wine industry.
In 1830, George and Margaret Wyndham purchased "Annandale" in the Hunter Valley, renaming the property "Dalwood" and building Dalwood House as a home.
In 1828 George had planted his first grapes using 600 cuttings purchased from James Busby. Following the purchase he immediately made the first commercial planting of shiraz at "Dalwood".
Produced in 1831, the first "Dalwood" vintage was not a great success; the "extremely hot conditions promised to make good vinegar." Still, in that same year Wyndham brought the 100,000 acre property "Bukkulla" near Inverell on the edge of the Northern Tablelands. There established another vineyard. Wine growing now expanded rapidly. By 1860, Wyndham's total holdings including “Bukkulla” were producing 11,000 gallons of wine per annum.
George Wyndham was not the only wine producer. Other settlers also planted vineyards and made their own wine.
The wealthier settlers were used to drinking wine, so it made sense to plant their own grapes. The surplus could also be sold locally through the little local hotels that dotted the stage coach routes.
As late as 1905, wine production from the Inverell area of New England was 227,000 litres from seven or eight larger vineyards and a number of smaller vineyards. Nor was this wine bad.
Between 1870 and 1920, wines from the area won many awards at wine shows in Sydney, Amsterdam, London, San Francisco, Chicago and France. A prominent English wine judge of the time wrote of the “Bukkulla” wines, “(They) have a character and quality above the average of most wine-producing countries. The lowest quality is better than a large proportion of the ordinary wines of Europe, while the best would not suffer in comparison to the finest known growths”.
And then all this vanished. Why? Part of the answer lies in that dreaded word, beer.
Initially, colonial New Englanders were not big beer drinkers. Among those wanting to imbibe to excess, to get smashed we would now say, brandy was the tipple of choice. The Australian colonies were one of the biggest global markets for French brandy!
Beer did not become readily available until improved brewing techniques allowed consisent quality. Beer did not become readily available until improved transport allowed bulk shipments. The combination made beer the drink of choice among ordinary Australians.
This was not the only factor.
The rise of the temperance movements, the wowsers, also changed things.
Wine drinking diminished; brandy retreated to the medicine cabinet where it became hospital brandy. Only beer survived. The Tableland’s wine industry was one victim of all this social and structural change. Now it is back!
Note to readers: This post appeared as a column in the Armidale Express Extra on 7 November 2012. I am repeating the columns here with a lag because the Express columns are not on line. You can see all the Belshaw World and History Revisited columns by clicking here for 2009, here for 2010, here for 2011, here for 2012 (Belshaw's World), 2012 (History Revisited).
I have bogged down in preparing New England's Aborigines stocktake May 2011. I was going to leave it as the front post until complete, but that was on the basis that I was updating it regularly. In the meantime, other things pass the blog by.
In 6500-year-old heritage junked, the Newcastle Herald reports on the results of a dig on Newcastle's Kentucky Fried Chicken site. This found carbon-dated evidence of Aboriginal occupation dating back between 6716 and 6502 years – the oldest evidence of human settlement in Newcastle.
I don't want to comment at the moment on the detail because I am leaving for Canberra in a little while, just record it for later reference.
Now that I have started writing my seminar paper on cultural change in New England I have to start filling gaps while also adding new material. I begin the paper with the closure of the Newcastle steelworks, once the largest integrated steel works in the British Empire.
This post simply records some of the on-line references so that I don't loose them.
The closure was debated in the NSW Legislative Assembly on 22 September 1999. The speeches are interesting not just because of the closure, but because they provide a snapshot of issues at the time. BHP Billiton's HRRP Fact Sheet 1 contains a brief history of the works. There is also reference to a book - Jay, Christopher (1999). A Future More Prosperous: The History of Newcastle Steelworks 1912-1999. Broken Hill Propriety Co. Ltd. - that I had not seen.
Workers Online contains an article by Dr Nancy Cushing - School of Humanities, University of Newcastle, Remembering BHP: Memory and Industrial Heritage. There was a PM story done at the time. There is another book: Tailing out : BHP workers talk about life, steelmaking and the Newcastle closure / interviews and writing collected and edited by P.P. Cranney
Now in all of this I came across a 2009 discussion thread on the closure of the BHP archives. It's worth a read for all those interested in the preservation of historical material. I don't know what's happened since.
I also found some video, but I need to follow this up.
Back in March in Newcastle University's regional contribution I asked:
What I really want to do is to be able to show the Newcastle University's specific contribution to its region. I have ideas and hypotheses, but I need to be able to test and extend these. Any ideas?
I asked this because I am trying to trace the contribution made by individual universities to New England's cultural, social and economic development. Now I know most about UNE, not just because of my personal connections, but because it had a very particular mission and left a larger footprint.
My feeling is that the University of Newcastle has played a considerable role. Here I know that the Hunter Valley Research Foundation was one spin-off.
Professor Cyril Renwick who played such an important role in its foundation was a household name at our place. It wasn't just his school text that I used when I picked up economics. It was also his role in founding what is now the Foundation.
The HVRF web site describes its foundation in this way:
The Hunter Valley Research Foundation (HVRF) grew out of the devastation of the disastrous 1955 floods which left a trail of destruction and despair throughout the Hunter Valley. After recovery had commenced, a community meeting of over 600 residents took place in Maitland to discuss future action. There was a widespread demand that an effort be made to mitigate the flooding and safeguard the Valley's economy. A decision was taken to set up an organisation to acquire knowledge of the total environment through research and subsequently the HVRF was established.
In writing my history of the broader New England, I really need to deal with this because I think that it is a remarkable story. To my knowledge, this was a unique institution. Further, I would like to weave Professor Renwick's work into my narrative.
I have done some web checking, but again, does anybody have knowledge of published material that might help me?
Finally finished the first draft of the paper I am delivering in Armidale 19 March. One of the issues that I am discussing is the contribution that the New England University College and then the University of New England made to New England thought and to the region. I also mention in passing Southern Cross and the University of Newcastle.
In all this, one big gap in my knowledge is the University of Newcastle itself. I simply don't know enough about that University's contribution.
One book that I am aware of but have yet to read is Don Wright assisted by Rhonda Geale, Looking back, a history of the University of Newcastle, University of Newcastle, Callaghan 1992. For the moment, I just wanted to record the reference so that I did not lose it. However, I was left wondering whether any readers had suggestions as to other sources on Newcastle or ideas as to the University's role.
What I really want to do is to be able to show the Newcastle University's specific contribution to its region. I have ideas and hypotheses, but I need to be able to test and extend these. Any ideas?
I just wanted to mention that Free Selector or Felon provides a rather good searchable resource for all those interested in the history of the Hunter Valley.
I have been looking for some Newcastle time lines for a little while This one from the Awaba site has an Awabakal focus.
1791
1797
1799
1800
1801
1804
1812
1818
1819
1820
1821
1823
1824
1826
1827
1829
1836
1839
1841
1850
1857
1859
1873
1892
Source:
D.A. Roberts, H.M. Carey and V. Grieves, Awaba: A Database of Historical Materials Relating to the Aborigines of the Newcastle-Lake Macquarie Region, University of Newcastle, 2002
<http://www.newcastle.edu.au/group/amrhd/awaba/>
This is one of a number of entry pages established to provide a central point for posts and references dealing with specific Aboriginal language groups within New England. You can find a list of all the entry pages here.
The Awabakal occupied the territory from the southern edge of the lower Hunter River and included Lake Macquarie. Hunter Valley Aboriginal Language Groups provides a description of their territory and surrounding language groups.
New England Australia - Lake Macquarie and Tuggerah Lakes catchment map provides a map of the main catchment occupied by the Awabakal. Note that while language groups do link to catchments, the boundaries are not exact.
By far the best on-line source of the University of Newcastle's Awaba site. This contains a variety of source material on the Awabakal, with some too on surrounding groups.
This brief post focuses on the Aborigines of Southern New England.
If you look at this map of Aboriginal language groups you can see that a number of language groups occupied the Hunter Valley. This is unusually varied for a single area.
In the north the Worimi occupied territory extending along the northern bank of the Hunter up to near Maitland and then a broad sweep of the coast up to and including what is now Foster-Tuncurry along with adjacent hinterland following the streams up into the hills to the east.
This was rich territory because it combined hinterland with extensive coastal lands including Port Stephens and the Great Lakes.
To the east and north west were the Geawegal, often confused by Sydneysiders with the Gweagal. According to Tindale, the Geawegal occupied the northern tributaries of the Hunter River to Murrurundi; at Muswellbrook, Aberdeen, Scone, and Mount Royal Range. Tindale also suggests that they were affiliated with the Worimi. This would make sense.
Given suggestions that the Kamilaroi may have been extending into the Upper Hunter, the Geawegal would have been the affected language group. According to the Tindale data base, there are also linguistic similarities between Kamilaroi and Geawegal.
The Awabakal occupied the territory from the southern edge of the lower Hunter River and included Lake Macquarie. They therefore occupy the most southern catchment recommended by Justice Nicholson for inclusion in New England.
The Wonnarua were neighbours of the Geawegal and occupied territory inland from the Awabakal covering part of the mid-Hunter valley including Muswellbrook.
The Darkinung (also Tindale's Darkinjang) were primarily a non-New England tribe. However, the map suggests that their territory did actually extend into the Hunter to some degree, including Cessnock.
On the west, the territory of the Dakinung, Wonnarua and, to a small degree, the Geawegal all adjoined the Wiradjuri, one of the largest tribal group in Australia whose territory extended west and south over a large part of what is NSW.
Obviously any map of this type has great uncertainties. However, linked to the underlying geography, the picture painted is not an unreasonable one.