Death in 1872 of Mr. Andrew Petrie
A Sketch of His Life taken from the Brisbane Courier
Born in 1798
His Duties in Brisbane
Sir Evan Mackenzie
Mr. David Archer
Colonel Barney
An Early Trip to Limestone (Ipswich)
Two Instances of Aborigines Recovering from Ghastly Wounds
The following extract from the “Brisbane Courier,” dated 22nd February, 1872, may be of interest to some readers as an introduction to what I have to say of my father’s father-his explorations, discoveries, etc.
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DEATH OF MR. ANDREW PETRIE, SEN.
“The death of the oldest free resident in our community and colony is an event not to be allowed to happen without notice; and the aged, revered, and useful citizen who has just left our world for a better was no ordinary man. The name of Andrew Petrie is indissolubly connected, not only with the early history of Brisbane, but of the colony. Although for some years past incapacitated by a painful malady from active interference in the more prominent duties of life, he never relaxed his interest in all that was going on around him in the colony. For thirty-four years and more he had watched its growth and advancement from the ignoble position of a mere outlying penal settlement of New South Wales to the dignified and important status of an independent province. From 1837 to the time of his death, he watched its progress with a solicitude which never flagged, rejoicing in its prosperity, and sorrowing in its adversity. Though long deprived of bodily sight, his mental vision could, nearly to the very last, realise all that had been effected in the way of advancement in the city, which has grown up on the comparative waste on which he first landed.
“Mr. Petrie was a native of Fifeshire, in Scotland, and was born in June, 1798. In early youth he removed to Edinburgh, where he was connected with an eminent building firm, and served four years in an architect’s establishment in that city. He embarked in business on his own account, and was induced to emigrate to New South Wales in 1831, on the representations of Dr. Lang. Arriving in Sydney in that year, in the ship Stirling Castle, he was employed in superintending the erection of the doctor’s well-known buildings in Jamison Street, and subsequently entered into business for himself. While thus engaged his ability and probity brought him into notice, and at the solicitation of Mr. Commissary Laidley, he entered the service of the Government as a clerk of works in the Ordnance Department. Shortly afterwards the late Colonel Barney arrived in Sydney with a detachment of the Royal Engineers, and to this officer the control of the department with which Mr. Petrie was connected was transferred, and the deceased gentleman retained his position. In the same capacity he was employed until his removal to Brisbane in 1837. The buildings which had then been erected in the city, and were in course of construction, had been designed and superintended by a junior military officer, and were, naturally enough, not models either of architectural skill or of substantial workmanship. Mr. Petrie was accordingly sent up as a practical superintendent or engineer of works, and he arrived with his family (Mr. John Petrie, the eldest, being then a mere boy) in August, 1837, in the James Watt, the first steamer which ever entered what are now ‘Queens- land waters.’ His duties were to direct and supervise the labours of the better class of prisoners-mechanics and others -who were employed in an enclosure situated where St. John’s School now stands. The windmill had been erected, but the machinery could not be made to work, although the sapient military officer had the bush cut down all round to allow the wind to reach the sails, and Mr. Petrie’s first labour was to take down the machinery and set it up again in a proper manner. On his arrival the only quarters available for himself and family were to be found in the female factory (now the Police office), which had been rendered vacant by the removal of the female prisoners to Eagle Farm. There Mr. Petrie resided until the house in which he lived and died was built, and as an instance of his foresight, he insisted on its being erected in a line with the court-house, ‘as there might some day be a street running that way.’ The locality was then simply in the bush.’
“In 1838, while out on an excursion with Major Cotton, the Commandant, Mr. Petrie and his companions were lost for three days, and found their way back to the settlement at last by taking bearings from the hill on the south side of the river, now known as Mount Petrie. In 1840, accompanied by his son John, two or three convicts, and two blackboys, the deceased gentleman made an exploring trip into what is now known as the Bunya Bunya country, and the party were in extreme peril of their lives, but they succeeded in bringing back to Brisbane some specimens of the fruit. He was, in fact, the first to discover the bunya bunya tree, although its botanical name, Araucaria Bidwilli, does not give him the credit. In 1842, in company with Mr. Henry Stuart Russell, the Hon. Mr. Wriothesley, and others, Mr. Petrie explored the Mary River, which had not before been entered by a boat; and it was while on this expedition that he discovered and brought back to civilization the well- known Durham Boy,’ who had been living in a kind of semi. captivity with the blacks for fourteen years. While on one of these exploratory journeys, and once subsequently, Mr. Petrie ascended to the summit of the almost inaccessible Beerwah, the highest of the Glasshouse Mountains, from whence he took bearings for the assistance of the surveyors who were then commencing a trigonometrical survey. On the latter occasion, Mr. Petrie and his companions struck across the country to Kilcoy, which had then been formed as a station for about three days by Sir Evan Mackenzie. On his way back to Brisbane, Mr. Petrie met and camped with Mr. David Archer, who was out looking for country, on the site of the present Durundur Station.
“Soon after the settlement was thrown open in 1842, the Governor, Sir George Gipps, visited the settlement in company with Colonel Barney, and the latter endeavoured to persuade Mr. Petrie to return to Sydney, as his office was abolished, but that gentleman preferred remaining here, and trying his chances in what he foresaw would be a flourishing colony. In 1848, while on a trip to the Downs, he suffered severely from an ophthalmic attack, the treatment for which resulted in the loss of his eyesight; and in the same year another calamity befell him in the loss of his son, Walter, who was drowned in the creek which crosses Queen Street. (Singularly enough, Mr. John Petrie lost a son of the same name, in the same creek, some years afterwards.) Although thus deprived of one of Nature’s most valued senses, the deceased gentleman continued for years to assist in the superintendence of buildings and other works, and many residents will remember, even of late years, his daily visits to works in progress.
“During the last few years, however, Mr. Petrie’s activity of mind had to succumb to infirmity of body, and he was seldom able to leave his own premises. Up to two years ago, blind as he was, he rang the workman’s bell with his own hands every morning, and was made acquainted with the details of the business of which he had been the founder..
“Mr. Petrie was not a man to obtrude himself upon public notice, but although he never actively interfered in political and other movements, he could express his views decidedly and vigorously in private. As a father, he was kind and indulgent; as an employer, he was respected, though strict and watchful; and as a friend and companion, he was genial and hearty-nothing pleasing him better than a chat about old times.” Surrounded by all the surviving members of his family, and by a goodly number of grandchildren, he passed peacefully away on the afternoon of 20th February, on that last journey in search of final rest which all humanity must one day undertake.
“The funeral of the late Mr. Andrew Petrie, which took place yesterday afternoon, was one of the largest which has been seen in Brisbane for many years past. The greatest respect was shown for the deceased by all classes in the community. The flags of all the vessels in the river were half- mast high, a number of mercantile establishments were entirely closed, while others partially relinquished business in the afternoon. The cortege moved from the late residence of the deceased, at Petrie’s Bight, at about four o’clock, and the procession extended over half-a-mile in length. After the hearse came four mourning coaches, then nearly sixty followers on foot, fifty-five carriages, and upwards of fifty horsemen. Amongst those present were Sir James Cockle, Chief Justice, Sir Maurice O’Connell, the Hon. the Colonial Secretary, the Hon. the Colonial Treasurer, several members of the Legislature, the Mayor and aldermen, and many other gentlemen holding important positions in the colony. The funeral service was read by the Rev. E. Griffith and the Rev. C. Ogg.
In portioning out and directing what work the better class of prisoners had to do, my grandfather travelled about a good deal. He watched to see that the buildings put up were done correctly, and he visited different places, such as Ipswich (Limestone then), Dunwich, Logan River, Amity Point (for the pilot station), etc. He went to Ipswich to see how the Government sheep and cattle under the management of Mr. George Thorn were doing, also to inspect the limekiln worked by the prisoners there. To take him about he had a whale boat manned by a crew of prisoners. “Tom” recollects well one trip his father made to Limestone with this boat. On this occasion, as an outing for them, Grandfather took his wife and two or three kiddies-my father included. The child of those days has memories of how they carried a tent with them in the boat, and how, stopping when they came to the first batch of Government sawyers at work on the river, he was carried ashore by one of the boat’s crew; then afterwards the men fixed up the tent for his father. Next day they went on again up the river to Limestone, where they stayed a couple of days at Mr. Thorn’s house, while the head of the expedition made his inspections. At that time Limestone (Ipswich) consisted of Mr. Thorn’s house and the yards for the cattle and sheep, also the limekiln and the stockade for the prisoners. On the return journey to Brisbane Mr. Petrie called in at all the places where men were at work on the river.
Not only on the Brisbane, but on the Albert and Logan Rivers, the Government prisoners worked sawing cedar. Then they burnt mangrove trees for ash for soap-making at the mouth of the Brisbane. Mr. Petrie inspected these places with his whale-boat, as he also now and then visited Dunwich to see that the prisoners there were all right, and also that the cedar timber was loaded on the vessels for Sydney. At other times he took a survey of the Bay and the soundings of the different parts of the water there.
On the return from one of these trips of inspection to Dunwich “Tom” remembers his father bringing a blackfellow back with him to the hospital with a fearful wound. The man’s name was “Parpunyi.” He had been fighting with another blackfellow, who had become possessed of a razor. In the fight the razor made a fearful gash from the small of ” Parpunyi’s” back round to the flank, letting some of the inner parts out. Mr. Petrie heard of the event soon after it happened, and he went and had the man’s wound attended to and sewn up, and then took him in the boat to Brisbane, where in the hospital he very soon recovered. It is wonderful how the blacks’ flesh would heal so quickly.
Another time an incident of the same sort happened in Queen Street, opposite where the Bank of New South Wales now stands. Two blacks were fighting there, and as at Dunwich, one of them-” Murrki “-had a razor in his hand, and the other man” Kebi “-was wounded in much the same way as “Parpunyi.” In this case, however, there was no hospital, but the man pushed the protruding parts in, and holding them so with both hands, walked off to camp, which was near the present Roma Street Station. There he had to lie on his back, and the blacks put very fine charcoal and ashes in the wound, and that was all the doctoring he got. He had to keep on his back for a long time, but in the end recovered all right, though the wound left a very large scar. My father who went to see the black several times during his enforced quietude, says that a white man so doctored would not have lived. The man told the boy that the wound did not pain him much then.