My previous post was devoted to the many places and things besotted Queenslanders decided to name after our first Governor, Sir George Ferguson Bowen, and his wife, Diamantina, Lady Bowen.
The glamour of this aristocratic couple performing vice-regal duties gave Brisbane a much-needed touch of polish. What Queensland gave in return, was frequently quite bizarre.
First of all, we nearly killed poor Lady Bowen when her carriage was upset on one of our rough and ready roads (potholed dirt tracks).
Then we tried to bore Their Excellencies to death with a night of Mr Black’s ‘peculiar art’. This appeared to involve an endless stream of depressing songs about the Battle of Culloden. ‘Deeply pathetic ballads’ indeed.
Months later at Maryborough, we were imperfect hosts when the glamour couple turned up two days ahead of schedule. And we disapproved when they messed around with the mail steamer schedule. Tut, tut.
Topping off a tumultuous first two years in Brisbane, there occurred an incident that could have killed Sir George or Lady Bowen, and very nearly put a dent in the Colonial Secretary’s beaver. I trust and pray that this was the Colonial Secretary’s beaver hat. It isn’t clarified in the article.
Moreton Bay and More 