You can learn a great deal about life in a particular time and place from the daily newspapers, particularly the classified advertising. Here is a snapshot of life in Brisbane on 27 June 1866, courtesy of the Brisbane Courier.
A suitable residence.
This advertisement is designed to appeal to those who require a des res with flash neighbours. The five rooms could accommodate a quite a large family – the idea of children each having a room was not entertained until the 20th century. This one came with a room for a servant, and the 19th century garage – the stable.
The Petrie Terrace cottage doesn’t boast a stable or proximity to local worthies. In fact, the advertisement sensibly omits the presence of another large building near the Military Barracks, the Brisbane Gaol. Escape attempts were rare, and in the tragic case of Kipper Billy in the early 60s, fatal. Still, one could enjoy the cricket ground.
By the way, houses in Petrie Terrace and Spring Hill may still be obtained. If you are a millionaire. And the Military Barracks, after decades of neglect, has been restored as part of a swish ‘entertainment precinct’.
A suitable occupation
The positions vacant section dealt almost exclusively with those already established in society seeking servants (experienced, married but without children, able to make themselves generally useful). Employment agencies and private recruiting were the preferred method of getting a position. Those who were in trade would advertise their wares “goats! goats! goats!”. Or offer some fairly ghastly-sounding services in the most dignified manner possible:
Good on Mr W. Allen of George-street. There was a man who stood apart from other men, possibly because he had to. And clearly unafraid of social ostracism. Or typhoid.
A suitable education.
Then, as now, there was a class divide in education. The idea of public education would take hold gradually but for a newly-separated colony, scholastic pickings were slim unless you could afford the attentions of someone like Mr Alex. Costello. And were a Young Gentleman, of course.
The syllabus surprised me a little at first, until I realised that Mr Costello was teaching geometric measurement to the Young Gentlemen bound for the Legal Profession and Civil Service. Mind you, we would all live in a more enlightened and sensible society now, had young men been taught about menstruation as a matter of course in centuries past.
Recreation
For socially acceptable recreation, one had the School of Arts, and its evenings of amateur musical performance, debating (sans, regrettably, the Wild Scotchman) and lectures.
For others:
Still, turtle soup could be had. I like to think that someone had been spreading ugly rumours that the dish was likely to disappear from menus entirely, prompting this reassuring ad:
Seems we loved our turtle soup a little too much…We’re so much kinder to the turtles now, thank goodness. The Moreton Bay Marine Park give us a picture of how we have recovered turtle stocks, depleted by the culinary demands of our ancestors. (Indigenous people, of course were able to hunt and eat turtles in a sustainable manner. Sustainability is something 21st century Europeans are only just getting the hang of.)
And if you weren’t messing about in billiard halls, ogling life-sized portraits of celebrities or endangering the turtle stocks of Moreton Bay, and were a man, you had the option of joining a lodge.
This particular lodge is still thriving. You are welcome to apply, according to the richly illustrated and informative website. You don’t even have to be Irish. I think not being a bloke is still a deal-breaker though.
The best of health
The reports of the Brisbane Hospital detailed an age at the mercy of typhoid and tuberculosis. Letters to the editor railed at the filthy living conditions in Frog’s Hollow (a low-lying area of Brisbane City in the vicinity of Albert, Elizabeth and Margaret Streets that no-one in authority thought it was their responsibility to pave and drain). Even the heroic efforts of Mr W. Allen of George Street could not save Brisbane from its own waste, and disease ran rampant.
If only the good people of Brisbane had paid more attention to the Classified Adverts! Here lay the solutions to everything:
Clearly, life in Victorian Brisbane, with its abundance of patent medicines, turtle soup, billiards, Young Gentlemen’s education and fabulous residences was an earthly paradise. (For well to do white men, of course.)
Moreton Bay and More 