river is not very broad, not broader, perhaps,
than the Thames at Eton.

It was not iny husband's intention to
build on this property. He merely wanted
it as a place where he might keep a few
brood mares; and a few cows—just sufficient
to supply us every week with butter. The
land was fenced in, and a hut erected thereon;
but nothing further was laid out upon this
grant of three hundred and twenty acres, to
which no name even had yet been given. It
was usually alluded to as the George's River
farm. You must know that, in those days,
officers connected with the administration of
affairs had farms in all directions. Many
were grants, many were purchases. Land
was of very little value then. This very
place of which I am speaking, was not worth
more than sixty pounds. No one would
have given fifty pounds for it. Why, four
acres and a half in George Street, nearly
opposite to the barrack gates, my husband
sold to a man who had been a regimental
tailor, for the following articles:

"Twelve dozens of port wine.
Six gallons of Hollands.
Two pieces of broadcloth.
Twenty-five pounds of American tobacco.
One chest of tea.
Two bags of sugar.
One set of harness for gig.
One saddle and bridle.
One single-barrelled fowling-piece.
Two canisters of powder, and
Four bags of shot.

And a noble bargain it was considered by
every one; though I have lived to see that
same allotment sold in little pieces, and
realise upwards of fifty thousand pounds.
Where the Post-Office now stands was the
boundary of our paddock. But never mind
these stupid statistics, which have really
nothing to do with the old Baron.

One day the Major was driving out in
his gig to visit this George's River farm, and
give some instructions to the servant in
charge of it, when he overtook the Baron,
about four miles from Sydney, walking along
the Parramatta Road. The Major pulled-up,
and inquired the destination of the old
gentleman.

"I am going," said he, "to George's River
to see Colonel Johnstone, from whom I wish
to ask a favour. I called at Annandale, and
they told me that the Colonel had ridden to
the farm, and I am now in pursuit of him."

The Baron had made himself a perfect
master of the English language, though he
spoke with a foreign accent.

"Jump in, Baron," said the Major; "I,
too, am going to George's River."

They had not driven far before they
overtook the Colonel. He was talking to an
elderly man in the road—a man whom my
husband recognised as one who had been a
sergeant in the regiment when Colonel
Johnstone marched it to Government House,
deposed Governor Bligh, and placed himself
at the head of affairs.

"Did you know Colonel Johnstone?" I
asked.

My husband, replied the old lady, was
a captain in the regiment; but, fortunately
for him, he was not at the head of his
company when it proceeded to enforce that
strong measure. Colonel Johnstone was the
godfather of my eldest boy. I can remember
his giving an account of what took place on
that memorable occasion of his deposing
Governor Bligh. 'We could not find him for
a long time,' said he, 'and at last discovered
him under a bed. We had to pull him. out by
the legs, for he would not come out of his
own accord, nor when I commanded him.'
The Colonel was sentenced by the court
martial that was held upon him in England,
to be shot. But his interest was too powerful
to admit of the sentence being carried out,
and he was suffered to return to and end his
days in the colony.

My husband, who knew the Colonel's
temperament so well, saw that he was in
anything but a good humour; and, whispering
to the Baron to forego his request for the
present, they bade the Colonel "Good day!"
and drove on at a rapid pace.

"The favour that I wished to ask Colonel
Johnstone is this," said the Baron, "to permit
me to occupy a small piece of land on this
farm of his; and in return I will take care
that his fences shall not be destroyed, and
his cattle stray away. I do not like the
locality of Sydney. I care not for ocean
scenery. I wish to be in a lonely place, and
live on the banks of a pretty river."

"I have just such a place on this farm of
mine which we are approaching," said the
Major; "and if you approve of it, we shall
have no difficulty in agreeing about the
terms, Baron."

A few minutes afterwards the Major and
the Baron were standing on the site I have
already described to you. The latter was in
ecstacies; and, clasping his hands, exclaimed,
"Wie herrlich! wie friedlich!" (How
charming! how peaceful!)

The terms were very soon settled. The
Baron was to rent that piece of land in the
centre of the grant, containing in all about
ten acres, and henceforward to be known as
Waldsthal, on a lease for twenty-one years,
at one dollar per year paid quarterly.
Spanish dollars and cents were the currency
in those days.

There was an abundance of timber of all
kinds, and available for building purposes,
on the land; and the Major could at all
times, command as much convict labour as
he pleased, including artisans of every class.
He drafted from the barracks, sawyers,
carpenters, blacksmiths, plasterers, labourers,
and subsequently painters and glaziers. These
men were sent to the farm, and placed at the
disposal of the Baron. They were previously