Cunningham pushed his hat back and gulped down the brackish water. Swathes of grassland and eucalyptus rolled away before his eyes to sun-baked blue hills shimmering in the distance. “Bloody bad country,” muttered Cunningham, kicking his horse into action.
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As the first European explorer in the New England region, Allan Cunningham was not impressed. True, the area was in severe drought, but Cunningham’s English eyes missed much. Early settlers found a rough country but a viable one. In the hands of these determined pioneers, farmers, miners and business people, the land would offer much.
After Cunningham’s expedition passed through in 1827, settlers began to trickle in. The first to arrive were aristocratic Scots and Englishmen. Former convicts and escapees also made their home in the district, while many stations employed convicts still serving time.
Life was rough. Unpredictable weather, dingoes, pests and sadly, conflicts with the local Aboriginal peoples made pioneering life extremely difficult. Communication and supply lines were sporadic, and law-enforcement virtually non-existent. Conditions had improved marginally by the time men brought families to the district, but disease was rampant and no school had yet been established. Inverell’s first doctor arrived in 1864, thirty years after initial settlement. The settlers were a plucky people.
As the sheep and cattle stations began to prosper and mail runs became more frequent, a new threat faced the settlers: bushrangers.
The lonely homestead set among the eucalypts baked in the quiet bushland sun. Suddenly, hoof beats echoed off the rough slab walls of the hut. The trooper wheeled his horse around and squinted down the red dirt track at the approaching mail coach. He gripped his pistol. Thunderbolt was on the move. Would the mail make it through today? Just yesterday, the Bendemeer bank had been robbed. Isolated homesteads and shepherd’s huts up and down the district were being terrorised. Hold-ups were frequent. Rarely did the mail coach pass through unchecked.
Thunderbolt was only one of the many local bushrangers - former convicts turned to robbery. Perhaps because of their linked heritage, many locals admired Thunderbolt - a man who dared to defy the system. The Armidale Express commented: “It is a well know fact that Thunderbolt has more friends that enemies.” Indeed, Thunderbolt and his accomplices were known for their courtesy. At Bonshaw, Thunderbolt famously bought brandies for the employees at the local hotel and regaled them with stories of narrow escapes and feats of horsemanship - before making off with their cash. A story of Thunderbolt’s gallant rescue of a lost girl also circulated the area.
As the settlers pushed farther and farther inland along the frontier, the local Indigenous peoples suffered. The bloody Myall Creek massacre was a worst-case scenario, but it illustrates the attitudes of many settlers to the First Australians. Significantly, however, this tragedy was the first incident in which the white perpetrators were brought to justice.
Through the agricultural land of the region runs a seam of granite, exposed over the mountain-grinding millennia. This seam proved to be the lifeblood of the area, yielding precious metals, coal, sapphires, diamonds and silver.
Wills let the grave sift though his fingers. He squinted at the silvery crystals resting in his work-worn palm. “Tin, I reckon,” Wills said, dusting his hands off.
Joseph Will had discovered the metal that would transform the region. After his discovery in 1871, prospectors flooded in, tin works and settlements were hastily erected, and the local population boomed. The Illustrated Sydney News reported in 1872: “Everybody here is in tin up to the neck and tin is the metallic subject of conversation for which the old stock subject – the weather – has been quite rolled aside.”
Living conditions in the new mining settlements were rough. One woman, Sarah Brissett, had 17 children at Tingha, only 8 of whom survived childhood. Work in the mines was gruelling and dangerous, and the chance of success was uncertain. Most miners lived in tents or bark huts, and many sought solace in “snake juice”, the cheap local wine.
The mines also attracted a sizeable Chinese population. In 1891, the area contained the highest concentration of Chinese in New South Wales. They painstakingly fossicked through the mine tailings and eventually opened several stores in the locality. The Chinese faced hostility from many of the Europeans but enriched the region with their culture.
Today the New England region remains strong, having survived two World Wars, the collapse of the mining industry, and the ever-unpredictable weather. Agriculture has held its place as the area’s mainstay – an industry that has endured the changing times. The early settlers’ legacy of resilience and courage as they battled every obstacle will see this land of rough beauty through.