George Frederick BAXTER and Mary Ann (nee JOHNSTON)
maternal great grand parents of the author
where they rest at Paddy's Lagoon on Donors Hill Station.
The story behind the BAXTER grave
I arrived in Normanton in July 2016. The second day there I went to the information center and asked if anyone knew any information about any McDOUGALL or BAXTER families in the area. I was told that I was in the wrong place and that I should go to the local BP Service Station where I was assured that someone there would be able to help me. 'The BP Service Station?' I had never had a response like this before. This should be interesting.
Upon arrival I found a group of older gentlemen sitting in the driveway having a cuppa and chatting about assorted items. "Hello young fella, how can we help you ?" I explained to them that I was looking for any information about any McDougall or BAXTER families in the area. One of them said "where should we start?" while from inside the building, Wayne REEVES (the owner) said, "give me a few minutes to fix this customer and I will pop home and bring back a couple of photographs of a BAXTER grave.
'where should we start' that sounded ominous, but the idea that a photograph of a grave had my interest. I knew it wasn't in the local cemetery because I had already been there and photographed all of the graves.
True to his word, Wayne soon returned with two photographs he had taken some 30 years earlier while working on horseback on Donors Hill property. As soon as I saw the first photograph, I knew instantly who it was; my Mother's maternal grandparents, George Frederick BAXTER and his wife Mary Ann, (nee JOHNSTON). My mother was Mary Louisa Catherine DAVIS, (nee McDOUGALL), and her mother was Emily Laura McDOUGALL, (nee BAXTER), and her parents were George and Mary Ann.
After being given directions of where to find the grave, I was told it would be hard to find because of all the tall grass in the area. Earlier in the year they had a fair bit of rain and the grave would have had a lot of water over it.
The directions were simple, drive south towards Cloncurry and at a slight bend in the road there is a gate. Drive along the fence line away from the highway for a couple of kilometers to the lagoon and then turn south. Near the southern end of the lagoon you will find the grave.
The instructions were simple enough, so how hard can it be to find the grave. Next day, packed a lunch and extra water and started traveling south from Normanton on the Burke Development Road. Eventually I came upon the Flinders River where they have a camera mounted at the top of a pole. When the blokes at the BP servo were telling me about the rain they had earlier in the year, they said that the water rose above this camera.
The photo is of the author standing next to the pole to give an idea of the height.
The area is relatively flat, being cattle country, with lots of grass and mostly only trees along the rivers and creeks. Given how flat the country is, it is astounding to imagine how much water is required to cover the camera on top of the pole. Everywhere you look there is grass and other debris hanging on the barbwire fences. Some of that debris, is the dried carcasses of cattle that didn't survive the flood.
The drive along the fence to Paddy's Lagoon was a bit rough because the cattle had walked through the area after the rain when the ground was still soft creating numerous little pot holes and now that the hot sun has dried the ground, it is like concrete.
When I arrived at the lagoon I turned south, the track a bit rough and in places washed away with all the water that drained into the lagoon. I passed the gidge stumps of the old hotel; I'll come back to them later; the important objective now is the grave.
At the grave the first thing that struck me was how lonely it was. Apart from a few cattle in the distance and the sound of the occasional bird, there was nothing.
Although it was July and mid-winter, it was still quite warm and I couldn't help but wonder about the transition, from lush green England to this dry, dusty, harsh and lonely outback spot in Australia, that these people made more than 140 years earlier.
Over the years the grave has suffered some damage, probably by the cattle in the paddock. The headstone has been broken in half, with the top part now laying on the ground. Some of the surrounding fence has been bent and the top of one corner has been broken off.
I stayed for some time, taking photographs and thinking about how amazing it was that I had met the right people at the right time, which led me to the grave of my maternal great grand-parents.
It was a surreal feeling to be standing here almost 118 years after George had died.
Time to leave, but on the way back I have to stop and have a look at the old hotel, which was also the post office, or what is left of it. All that remains are the old gidge stumps, one of the few timbers that the white ants don't like. I half expected to find a lot of old broken glass bottles, but over the years I guess a number of people have been by and taken almost everything that can be removed. For there to be a hotel and post office here, there must have been a number of people living in the area in the late 1800's.
Originally, it would have been on the track from Normanton to Cloncurry, and some travelers would have also visited the hotel.
George had an extensive mail delivery run which was also based here at the hotel. He also delivered some food and other items along with the mail.
One last thing I have to do is have a look at Paddy's Lagoon, not more than fifty meters from the hotel. It was a little surprising to find how much water was still in the lagoon, given that no water has flowed into the lagoon since the rain at the beginning of the year. A couple of pelicans and a few other birds were the only visitors apart from the local cattle.
The photographs included in this article were taken by Sharon Sheppeard on a return visit in 2019.