No 42 Strathalbyn

The story of Strathalbyn begins in 1839, when the Rankine family, newly arrived from Scotland, tramped over the trackless hills to found a sheep station in the "interior," 35 miles distant from the capital— in the days when the capital itself was almost as much in the wilds as the sheep run by the Angas River. Today Strathalbyn is one of the most picturesque towns in South Australia.

If some motorist asked me to recommend a picturesque run for a Saturday afternoon I would, without hesitation, tell him to follow the bitumen to Mount Barker, and then on to Strathalbyn, taking in Macclesfield en route. Given the proper kind of day, I doubt if there is a more beautiful track in the State. The only other recommendation I would make would be that he gave a day instead of a half-day to the journey. One does not want to motor like a road hog through scenery like that. Then, as he breasted the top of the world, the long hill which begins the descent into Strathalbyn, he would find a panorama spread before him he would not easily forget.

On his left he would see the plains stretching away to Lake Alexandrina, and on his right to Encounter Bay and the Murray Mouth. As he turned and twisted down the long incline, at the foot of which Strathalbyn lies, he would know he was on Doctor's Hill—named after Dr. John Rankine, one of the founders of the town.

If he was an imaginative man he could picture the two brothers Rankine standing on this hill, away back in the beginning of things, viewing with grateful satisfaction the beautiful country which had fallen to their lot, and then and there christening it "Strath Albyn" (White Valley) because it so much reminded them of their home in Scotland. Let me tell you the story of the Rankines.

The Rankines

They were two brothers, John and William, who came from Ayrshire in 1839. John, who was a doctor of medicine, was the more picturesque figure of the two. But it was the shy, retiring William who settled at "Glenbarr," on the outskirts of Strathalbyn (the original form was Strath Albyn), and was the principal founder of the town we know today.

Among the many interesting things shown me during my recent visit was the original land grant issued by Sir George Grey as "Governor and Resident Commissioner," to James Dawson and William Rankine, dated November 16, 1841, of the site on which Strathalbyn stands. The boundaries have been considerably enlarged since then —Strathalbyn East, laid out by the McLeans; South, by Richard Hopper; North, by Edward Stirling; and West, by Dr. Lloyd Herbert. William Colman, and Richard Carruthers, and the "Manse Estate," by the trustees of St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church. We will meet several of these old pioneers later. It was Mr. E. J. Tucker who showed me the original grant. John Rankine settled a couple of miles further back towards Macclesfleld, and called his home "Blackwood." The name was later altered to "Blackwood Park" to prevent confusion with the hills township of Blackwood nearer the city. It was John who was responsible for the family coming to Australia. It was at this time that the people of the United Kingdom were much interested in the Angas- Wakefield experiment of running a British colony on entirely new principles, and John, with his wife and his brother, decided to tempt Dame Fortune in the new land. So they booked passages by the Fairfield. On reaching Adelaide they struck into the hills in search of a selection.

Negotiating The Hills

Has it ever occurred to you that taking bullocks, a dray, and equipment over the mountains in the thirties and forties was an adventure of some magnitude? I have told you so often that there were no roads that soon you will begin to believe me. If I am compelled once more to remind you of the fact it is merely because I want to try to give you a picture of how these pioneers had to meet and surmount obstacles in what we light-heartedly term "the good old days." It is necessary, therefore, that you imagine the ranges in their native state—an almost impenetrable barrier, covered with trees and boulders, opposed to your knowing the mysteries which lay among and beyond their towering heights.So, when you reached the foothills, you had to skirt them for miles, looking for a likely place to begin the ascent. There were no landmarks as we would know them today—just an endless forest of old gums stretching away behind you, and this huge, volcanic wall in front of you. Among those collines there might be water or there might not—you had to chance that, for it was the unknown which lay before you.

Having found a likely-looking gully from which to commence your climb, you cracked your whip, swore at your bullocks, and sent them straining and heaving up the side of the hill. A man followed the dray carrying huge chocks. The dray had to pursue a zig-zag course, and every time the exhausted bullocks came to a stand-still these blocks were shoved under the wheels to keep the dray from slipping back.

After hours of incessant labor, every minute of which was charged with disaster, you reached the crest. There you spelled your animals while you surveyed the depths of the gully below. For the worst part of the business was now before you. Going up was bad. But going down was worse. It meant a long, slow, gradual descent, dodging all sorts of obstacles. Success was to the man who had infinite patience. The short-cut idiot was certain to meet trouble—to find his bullocks at the bottom of the valley with their necks broken and the dray in ruins. Every traveller knows Breakneck Hill, on the Mount Pleasant road. It was an incident of the kind I am writing about which gave it the name by which it is still known today.

Therefore, instead of yelling hurrah because you had accomplished the easiest part of the climb on reaching the summit, you took off your coat, seized an axe, and began felling a tree, or perhaps two trees, which you tied on behind your cart to keep it from too eagerly obeying the law of gravitation. Then you zig-zagged down more slowly than you had zig-zagged up.

Having conquered your first hill, you tackled the second; and so on, ad infinitum, day after day, until you reached your destination, and found yourself in a trackless, unknown waste, which in future was to bear the mystic name of "home."

It was travelling thus that the pioneer Rankines came to the beautifully situated valley which reminded them of the homeland, and founded their stations. When it came to the actual work of raising sheep and cattle, William was a more important personage than John, because he had been a sheep farmer in Scotland, and knew something of the game. The doctor knew nothing about it—but he soon learnt.

In The "Piebald" Parliament

Historically John was a more important personage than William. In saying this, I have in mind the fact that the doctor was a member of the "Piebald" Parliament—the strange Chamber, half elected and half nominated by the Governor, which evolved the Constitution under which the State carried on today. He didn't want to be a member, for he was neither orator nor public man, but he was persuaded to go to the poll in the days when voting was open and hilarious. His opponent was Edward Stirling, father of the beloved Sir Lancelot whose acquaintance we will make presently. Rankine won—and I think of all the people immediately concerned he was the most surprised. After spending many years in this country John Rankine returned to Scotland, where he died in 1864.

The Stirlings

In telling the story of Strathalbyn, you cannot omit the Stirlings. I use the plural because the father, Edward Stirling, and his two sons, Edward and Lancelot, have all left an indelible mark not only on that town, but on the State. I wonder if you can imagine Hutt street, Adelaide, as part of the bush? Candidly, I cannot.

Yet when Edward Stirling the elder arrived from Glasgow it was in "the bush," where Hutt street now pursues its placid and well-to-do way, that he erected the little wooden house, which he had brought out from Scotland to shelter his hopes, his fears, and his person.

Like Rankine, Edward Stirling was a Scotsman, like Rankine he came here in '39, and like Rankine he chose Strathalbyn as the scene of his pastoral labors. His holding was 800 acres. But it was the day of fenceless runs, and the stock grazed where they would. Grass was so plentiful, so high, so rich, and so succulent that there was plenty for all—and if the stock strayed away to Kingdom Come nobody worried, except the men who had to bring them back.

So it was that the Stirlings became pioneers of the picturesque town in the southern hills. Their headquarters for some years was called "Hampden." Then they moved to "The Lodge." That has been the family residence ever since. I do not know if it was Edward Stirling, the father who built "Urrbrae," that delightful estate on the southern outskirts of the city, which Peter Waite left to the nation for the study of scientific agriculture, but I know that he lived there for some years after Adelaide had begun to look less like scene one from outback, and more like a justification for levying rates and taxes. He was one of the founders of Elder, Smith & Co., that big Adelaide firm of general traders, who seem to have their finger in so many pies in all parts of the world.

Elder, Smith & Co.

I never go into that house without feeling that I am in the very heart of one of the romances of commerce. I shut my eyes and try to visualise the kind of small potatoes it was in 1839, when A. L. Elder put up his signplate, and started to delve for the elusive shekels of the mercantile community of Adelaide. That was before his brother Tom—more dignified in later years as Sir Thomas—came out to help him in the good work, and the firm took on the title of Elder & Co. When you look at the big concern today, handling every imaginable kind of complex business, with the turnover of a State, and its finger on the mercantile pulse of the whole world, you feel immensely proud of the fact that it is South Australian born and bred, even if there is at the back of your mind a sneaking recognition of the fact that Scottish grit and Scottish shrewdness laid the good foundations on which the great edifice has been built.

It was in 1856 that Stirling the elder and his brother-in-law (John Taylor) joined Elder & Co., and the firm styled itself Elder, Stirling & Co., and, with Walter Hughes, practically owned the Wallaroo and later the Moonta mines. It was from Elder, Stirling and Co. that Elder, Smith & Co., Limited, of today emerged.

It is obvious then that Edward Stirling was a man who left his mark on the commercial life of the State. He must have been a man of boundless energy; indeed, it is recorded that when he became a member of the Legislative Council he commonly rode 70 miles daily between Adelaide and Strathalbyn when the House was in session to attend to his Parliamentary duties.

There is one final similarity with John Rankine—Stirling, too, eventually let his seat in the Council expire by effluxion of time and returned to the old country. He died there in 1873. Of his two distinguished sons, both knights, it is scarcely necessary to write. They were too close to the present generation to have been forgotten. The younger, Sir Lancelot, whose memory the new tower on Christ Church commemorates, had a remarkable career—51 years in Parliament, 31 of them as President of the Legislative Council. And he died in harness. His brother, Sir Edward, was a noted scientist, university professor, and director of the Museum. He, too held his post to the last.

Angas Survey

The Strathalbyn district (we are not talking of the town now)) was originally granted to ten people. It was known as the Angas Special Survey. The owners represented in this grant, were William Rankine, John Rankine, Edward Stirling, Charles Stirling, Alexander Muir, James Dawson, Donald McLean, Fowler, Guy, and another whose name I could not get. Their area included 800 acres. They divided it into ten sections of 80 acres each, and then drew lots for the blocks. That was how the country round Strathalbyn was settled.

It was William Rankine who drew the section on part of which Strathalbyn stands. He called his property "Glenbarr," and in a few years it became one of the show places of the State. The residence still stands. Even the fences around this property,when fences came in, had to be solidly built. There was none of your cheap and nasty "that's good enough" touch about those fences. The posts had to be morticed with a chisel, and the pine rails of sawn timber had to meet properly in the middle of the posts.

William Rangine was twice married. His first wife, a Miss Patterson, was espoused in Scotland. After her death he married Mrs. Stripe, who was a school teacher at Strathalbyn. He died at "Glenbarr" in 1882, and is buried in the Strathalbyn cemetery. Of him it is written that he made many friends, but no enemies. He had no taste for public life, and his only departure from private interests was a long period as chairman of the district council.

St. Andrew's Church

Strathalbyn has always been a little bit of Scotland. It was almost entirely settled by people from the country where bagpipes are regarded as music, and haggis as an eatable dish. They brought with them from the old land not only the squeaking monstrosity that sounds like the eternal wail of a lost soul, and the recipe for the national hash, but the religion of their fathers—sacred, sincere, and uncompromising. That is something one can always admire about these early Scottish colonists—their love for the "auld kirk." The story of St. Andrew's is full of it.

St. Andrew's is, and always has been, the most prominent landmark in this picturesque southern ville. Architecturally it is a thing of beauty wrought in stone. It is known the world over.

Yet its beauty is an accident. It was not built to an original design. It was built in small portions, with additions here, and alterations there. This is how the church was built. No sooner had these sons of Scotia reached this beautiful white valley, watered by the River Angas, than their thoughts turned to a place to carry on the old religion. They called a meeting, and decided to erect a building— not the handsome edifice we know today, but a plain little kirk as severe and unadorned as these dour old Scots themselves. Money was scarce, and the cost had to be subscribed in kind. Those who had coin gave it.

But mostly the donations went this way — "I'll gie a pair o' bullocks," offered one old worshipper.

"I'll gie a hoondred bushels o' wheat," said another. "An' I'll gie a hoondred bags," added a third.

It was on donations such as this that St. Andrew's began its humble career.

They took their religion seriously, these old Scots. They were outspoken in their criticisms of the "meenister," and intolerant of innovations. They wouldn't have an organ. "Ye canna worrship th' Lorrd wi' a kust o' whustles," declared one old independent, as he stamped off indignantly when the proposition was put to him. So they stuck to their precentor with his tuning fork, and his loud musical "hum-m-m" as he gave the note for beginning the hymn. And when a harmonium was introduced one outraged worshipper drove himself and his family for miles to Morphett Vale rather than have his conscience outraged.

Story Of A Tower

The prayers, too. Interminable! The boys had to stand up while they were being recited. A watchful elder kept an eye on them. At the least sign of inattention the offender was liable to find himself struck in the face with a Bible.

This is how the well known tower came to be added to St. Andrew's. When Mrs. Edward Stirling, sen., returned to Scotland, she promised to send out a bell for the church, which by this time possessed a spire. When the metallic summons arrived it was found to be too big for the spire. The tower was then built to accommodate it. But that was only the beginning of more trouble. After the bell had been hung it was found that the tower would not stand up to the heavy vibrations when the bell was rung. Therefore it had to be tolled—and tolled it has been ever since. That bell has a wonderful carrying note. It has been heard as far away as Milang (13 miles).

In the church is a tablet in memory of Edward Stirling, the pioneer of the Stirling family. It records that he died at Queen's Gardens, London, on February 2, 1873, at the age of 68. Other tablets relating to old colonists are to Matthew Rankine, son of the founder of Strathalbyn, who was an elder of St. Andrew's for 31 years; the Rev. George Clarke, who was pastor for 31 years, and Thomas and Elizabeth Gemmell, an early pastoral family who gave their name to Gemmell's railway station on the Victor Harbour line.

Christ Church

Historically the Anglican Church is not quite so interesting as St. Andrew's. When I was there they were just completing the new tower, erected in memory of Sir Lancelot Stirling. By the time this article appears it will have been dedicated. But Christ Church, like its Presbyterian neighbor, houses some tablets with a story. For instance, there is one to Lady Way, wife of the former Chief Justice, who was Miss Gordon in the days before she became Mrs. Blue, and used to sing in the choir. She married the old "Chief" a few years after her husband's death.

Then there is the apse, dedicated to Mary Elizabeth Bussell (1837-1902). She was the wife of the revered Archdeacon, who was the second rector of the parish. The first was the Rev. Slaney Poole.

Early Transport

Today Strathalbyn is a town of ten bridges. The picturesque Angas, lined with hoary monarchs that were there before the first settlers came, cuts the town in twain, and every one of those ten overways is needed, from Gol-Col-Hoop, whose story I will tell you presently, to the latest Children's Bridge, privately built by a patriotic citizen in memory of his wife. But Strath. did not always have these bridges. There was a period in its early history when the teamsters had to climb down the steep banks of the river, ford it the best way they could, and climb out again. That was no joke with heavy load on the waggons, and the bullocks spent after a hard and long day's work. The slow teams for Adelaide always left between 11 p.m. and midnight. They preferred the cool of night to the heat of day, and they liked to reach the city at a reasonable hour to transact business. The teams were practically all bullocks, because horses were scarce and dear, the hills steep, and the tracks venomously difficult. In those early days, too, the farmers commonly walked the 35 miles to Adelaide to sell their butter.

Now Strathalbyn has its bituminous roads and its modern bridges, and it grumbles if the milkman is three minutes late. The first carter to employ horses for transport between Strathalbyn and the capital was Joseph Tregilgas, who inaugurated the service with a dray and two horses. The mails used to come from Mount Barker by horseback twice a week. Then Dr. Blue, the first husband of Lady Way, got the contract. The mails were carried in a spring cart. It was not until 1850 that the first coach was run direct from Adelaide to Strathalbyn by Cobb & Co. This coach was a flash affair, the pride of the road. It was hauled by six dashing horses, with James Keough on the box.

Gol-Col-Hoop

The younger generation, who take all the conveniences which have been provided for them as a matter of course, probably know nothing of Gol-Col-Hoop, though they cross it every day. This is the bridge near the railway-station, and was the first one built. The present structure, of course, is not the original, but to the old people it is still known by the curious name applied to its predecessor. Gol-Col-Hoop perpetuates the names of three early citizens who fought a battle royal to get a bridge constructed over the Angas, to enable the people to cross from one side of the town to the other. They were Donald Gollan, the uncle of Lady Way; W. Colman, a miller, and a member of the English family of mustard fame, and Hooper, a local publican.

Looking Round The Town.

Many, but not all, of the things I have told you were related to me one morning recently when I sat in the mayor's parlor with some of the oldest residents. They were the mayor (Mr. J. W. Elliott), the town clerk (Mr. W. P. Adams), Mr. E. J. Tucker, Mr. Robert Watt, Mr. James Bell, and Mr. G W. Montgomery. Mr. Watt has a remarkable memory reaching back to over seventy years ago. Mr. Elliott has a unique municipal record—44 years in the council, and twenty years as mayor.

I do not know any other town more naturally endowed with beauty than Strathalbyn. Nature herself has done the planning, and done it, of course, more effectively than human designers ever could have done. But the town authorities seem to have taken every advantage of the setting Nature has provided. Its foundation is the Angas River—my mite of admiration to the old pioneers who preserved this scenic paradise, and made it the centre of their burg! But if the old people had the foresight to retain the reserve in all its natural beauty, those who followed them have had the sense to incorporate their gardens and their parks in it on harmonious lines. There is a perfect balance of the wild and the artificial in the Peninsula Memorial Park, which has been laid out as a memorial to the soldiers of the Great War. It occupies the toe of a great peninsula which juts out into the river where it makes a wide sweep round. Here Strathalbyn has erected its monument to the fallen brave—a striking pillar, impressive in its simplicity. On the banks of the Angas near at hand is the living reminder. "Remember the Anzacs," growing where all who race by may read. In the earliest days this spot used to be a favorite camping ground for two tribes of aboriginals—one from the hill and the other from the river. Even today you may see on this reserve an old tree from which native shields have been cut.

The history of Strathalbyn as a district council dates from 1860. Eight years later it was incorporated as a town. its first mayor was Mr. E Sunter, and its first town clerk Mr. R. S. Bosisto. He was also the first district clerk. In 1867 the Duke of Edinburgh visited this centre, and one of the big events of the celebration was the roasting of a whole bullock in the reserve where the Soldiers' Memorial now stands. But its most progressive period was, perhaps, 1868-9. That year witnessed the tramway extension from Goolwa, the inauguration of gas works, the erection of many important buildings, and the opening of the National Bank.

NEXT WEEK— Story of Port Elliot.

Images

• St. Andrew's Presbyterian Church, the most prominent landmark in Strathalbyn, with its tower at one end and spire at the other.—Morton photo.

• Strathalbyn's striking reminder of the services of the men in the Great War, growing on the banks of the River Angas.—Morton photo.

• Mr. J. W. Elliott, Mayor.

• The Mayoress.