I live on (well, beside) Quamby Rd in Guys Hill. The name began to interest me when I found Quamby Bluff, etc, in northern Tasmania and then found there was a Quamby in Queensland as well.
Quamby Bluff is an outlier of the Great Western Tiers in Tasmania and the name is used for a road, a homestead and other things in that area. There is the rather posh Quamby Eastate, with its own golf course. It was once the home of Sir Richard Dry, the first locally-produced premier of Tasmania. There is even a local distiller making Quamby Bluff Gin.
The Queensland Quamby is a tiny place that, like so many outback places, cannot possibly survive, but stubbornly does so. There is one hotel and very little else, other than some very basic workers’ accommodation.
There is another Quamby, though, little-known but right here in Gippsland.
Andrew Lyall, the younger and less successful brother of William Lyall, called his property at Yallock, or Monomeith, Quamby. That was in 1867, and the property was only of 160 acres. William, on the other hand, was part of the Mickle, Bakewell and Lyall partnership that held most of the land from Cranbourne to Lang and. Bear it in mind though that much of this land was impenetrable swamp. Even so, it produced Harewood and Warook , two of the most handsome houses anywhere in Gippsland.
Andrew, the Lyall brother in this story, was one of 10 children born to John and Helen Lyall in Scotland. Andrew was the sixth of these. Three of the children died as infants and Margaret, the youngest, born in 1830, married John Mickle. The Mickle, Bakewell and Lyall families were strongly linked in business.
Andrew and Helen (nee Brown) had 11 children, the first stillborn and the second dying in early childhood, but the other nine leading full lives. They were Andrew, William, Albert, Ewen, Margaret, John, Julia, Victoria and Eugenie, born from 1859 to 1879.
The journey from the Aberdeen area in Scotland to the Great Swamp was though Van Diemen’s Land, where one of his several properties was called Cora Lyn, almost certainly the source of that place’s name on the Swamp now. There are several other Cora Lyn features in Victoria, too, some with a double N and some with a single.
He did not come to our part of the world until 1863, aged 41 or so. He’d been back to Europe in 1856-57 and in 1852 he spent a month ‘on the diggings’, and after that month realised there were better ways to spend his time. He took up land in New Zealand but had to give it up (without ever setting foot on it as far as I can see) because he had trouble trying to find someone to transport his sheep there. I have no information on this but he is said to have not been a very good manager of money and sent much of his time trying to deal with his debts.
He also spent some time in the 1850s down on the Hopkins River in the Western District, and on a few other significant properties, including Mount Elephant No. 2, and Drysdale, and Lyne (which might have been in the Portland area or further north, near Hamilton)..
He came to the ‘old Yallock station’ in 1867 and selected the 160 acres of Quamby in that year. In 1868 he was managing Mickle’s station at Monomeith. He was to stay on until 1874 but when the bigger properties were cut up for selection he bought Quamby in 1872. He had a house on that 160 acres in 1874 so his moving off Monomeith must have organised well beforehand.
I’m not sure why he had only the 160 acres but it seems that he was not a squatter, entitled to the usual pre-emptive right to a 640-acre block of land.
There were several significant disputes between Andrew and the Mickle, Bakewell and Lyall partnership, and a long-running argument over his selection – he wanted the normal square mile but was at first allowed only a quarter of that (160 acres). He drained and fenced what he did have but he was in a continuing dispute with the Gill brothers, whose cattle bore the dreaded pleuropneumonia, at least according to Andrew. He tried explain to the authorities that 160 acres, some of it deep swamp, was simply not enough to make a good living.
In 1882 he was showing interest in exploring and claiming land in the “Macquarie district” of Tasmania but nothing came of it. He was hoping that the government would subsidise his exploring the district and reward him with land there, which he believed to be very good, though others disagreed.
Andrew Lyall died on the Quamby property in 1902. The block, running north west to south east, was cut up but the bulk of it, perhaps all, was bought by the Light family in 1958.
However, this story was to be about the name Quamby and it has got away.
The meaning of the name is not entirely clear, though several explanations are available. Daniel Bunce was a rather approximate student of Aboriginal languages back in the mid-1850s or so, and he said that an indigenous person thinking he was about to be shot, fell to his knees saying “Quamby”, meaning “Spare me”.
It is said to come several Tasmanian indigenous languages meaning “a place of rest” or “a good camping place”. There must be hundreds of place names applied by the white man with that same meaning, and probably very few of the interpretations are accurate.
It is said to come from a Viking word for a farm, or perhaps a mill, but no connection seems obvious, except that the use of “Quarmby” in Yorkshire is said to have Norse origins.
Sadly for the romantics among us it seems likely to have been taken from a place in Yorkshire called Quarmby, though even that is uncertain. There were people from that Village, near Huddersfield, who migrated to Australia and might well have brought the name. There was also a Quarmby family of some note in Liecester County who sent members all over the world. The family name is said to have come from a Norse term for a mill, which does, in a way, lend some credibility to the Viking source. I doubt that we’ll ever know, which annoys me a little.
It is at least probable to Andrew Lyall’s Quamby was named for, or in a similar fashion, the various Quambys around Quamby Bluff in Tasmania, if only because he spent so much time there.
Stories from the Noojee line
Sometimes I get a pleasant surprise, and it happened a few weeks ago. Val and I took some German friends to lunch at the Nooj Pub and there I saw a book on sale. It was the last copy they had and I snapped it up. I am very glad about that because...