Journals of Two Expeditions into the Interior of New South Wales

In Short

This work serves as the official, firsthand report of two inland expeditions conducted in 1817 and 1818 to survey the unknown reaches of New South Wales. Tasked by Governor Lachlan Macquarie to trace the courses of the Lachlan and Macquarie rivers, the party navigates extreme climate swings, from bone-dry deserts to expansive, impassable marshes. The book has endured as a foundational document of colonial exploration, capturing the immense frustration and occasional wonder experienced by those attempting to map a continent that often seemed to defy European geographic expectations.

The Story

The narrative follows two distinct journeys that define the early colonial effort to understand the Australian interior. The first expedition begins with high anticipation, as the party sets out from Bathurst to track the Lachlan River. The initial optimism, fueled by the hope of discovering a grand waterway leading to the coast, slowly dissolves into a long, fatiguing campaign against the landscape. The team finds the river’s path increasingly erratic, as it breaks into chains of ponds and ultimately dissipates into immense, impenetrable swamps. For the explorers, this is a profound disappointment; they conclude that the river does not reach the sea but instead floods into a vast, useless morass. They return to civilization, their horses exhausted and their original hypothesis proven wrong.

The second expedition, undertaken the following year, shifts the focus to the Macquarie River. Again, the team faces the stark, unforgiving nature of the terrain. They battle thick eucalyptus brushes, "creeping vines," and the constant anxiety of a precarious water supply. The geography is baffling: the country is broken into rocky ridges and sandy plains, and the river’s behavior remains a puzzle. The group pushes forward with a mixture of determination and exhaustion, encountering only the occasional traces of local inhabitants and the silence of the bush. As they navigate toward the east coast, the struggle shifts from river-tracing to mountain-crossing. They eventually reach the rugged coast, ending their journey near Port Macquarie. The narrative concludes with the successful discovery of a navigable entrance to that port, a practical victory that stands in sharp contrast to the failed search for the "inland sea." The appendices provide a formal structure to these experiences, including the official instructions from the Governor, lists of livestock, and statistical abstracts of the colony, grounding the high-stakes drama of the wilderness in the dry, bureaucratic realities of colonial administration.

How It Unfolds

The First Expedition launches The journey begins at Bathurst, with the party setting out to trace the Lachlan River toward the interior. The early days are marked by the slow, difficult navigation of a river that seems to contract rather than widen, forcing the men to cut their own path through dense, unforgiving brush.

The marshy dead-end The progress of the first expedition stalls as the river disappears into a "vast, level country" of swamps and reeds. The realization dawns that the water does not lead to an outlet, forcing a difficult decision to abandon the search and return to the depot.

The second attempt begins Equipped with new goals, the party turns its attention to the Macquarie River. This stretch is defined by the contrast between barren, rocky ranges and the sudden discovery of fertile valleys that feel like a "second Vale of Tempe."

The coastal breakthrough The final leg of the second expedition involves a grueling mountain descent. The party faces the near-loss of their horses before eventually reaching the coast, where they document a navigable harbor and successfully conclude their survey of the interior.

The People

John Oxley acts as the observant, methodical leader of these expeditions. Driven by a sense of duty to Governor Macquarie and a genuine curiosity about the land, he is a man of precise measurements and firm expectations. He wants to find a logical, navigable river system that connects the interior to the sea, and he is deeply frustrated when the land repeatedly refuses to conform to his maps.

Mr. Evans, the deputy surveyor, serves as a steady, reliable presence throughout the journeys, providing both technical assistance and personal support. His previous research is validated by the team's findings, making him a crucial partner in the work.

Mr. Cunningham and Mr. Frazer, the botanists, provide a different perspective, focusing their energy on the collection of rare plants and specimens. Their enthusiasm for the flora of the region provides a counterpoint to Oxley’s focus on geography and water. Their work is a testament to the scientific ambition of the expeditions.

The Governor, Lachlan Macquarie, looms over the entire narrative, even when absent. He is the architect of these missions, providing the supplies, the instructions, and the expectations that force the party forward. His formal reports, included in the appendices, frame the human struggle of the explorers within the context of imperial expansion and colonial growth.

In Its Own Voice

"It is impossible to fancy a worse country than the one we were now travelling over, intersected by swamps and small lagoons in every direction; the soil a poor clay, and covered with stunted useless timber."

Oxley describes the bleak, difficult landscape encountered during the first expedition’s attempt to follow the Lachlan River.

"There was no channel whatever among those reeds, and the depth varied from three to five feet."

This line captures the specific moment when the explorers realize the river they were tracking has reached an impassable end, dashing their hopes of finding an inland sea.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is about the collision between European geographic theory and the physical reality of the Australian interior. Oxley is deeply invested in the search for a major river system that he assumes must exist to drain the eastern mountains. When he repeatedly fails to find this "inland sea," he is forced to grapple with a landscape that operates by its own, often baffling, rules. The book explores the question of what happens when a mapmaker’s logic is met with a continent that resists being contained. It is a study in the limitations of human expectation and the silent, indifferent power of an environment that doesn't care about the progress of explorers.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of exploration will find this a fascinating, if sometimes austere, experience. It captures the sheer scale of the Australian wilderness and the physical toll exacted by a landscape that was entirely alien to the explorers. The prose is precise and utilitarian, reflecting the mindset of a man tasked with surveying a vast, "park-like" country that he simultaneously admires for its beauty and fears for its lack of water.

Potential readers should be prepared for the book's period-specific attitudes; there is a notable absence of engagement with the Indigenous populations, who are mentioned only as fleeting, distant figures. Furthermore, the text is structured as a formal journal, complete with technical descriptions of compass variations and botanical findings, which can make it feel like a challenging read at times. However, for those who value primary source accounts, there is a unique resonance in watching Oxley struggle with the same geography that later generations would eventually understand. It is a slow, methodical look at a world in the process of being "discovered" by a specific colonial lens, and its endurance as a document of the period remains unquestionable. It leaves you with a vivid sense of the silence of the bush and the immense, quiet scale of the continent.