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Life is great in the Sunshine State ‘Life is great in the Sunshine State, every Queensland heart sings a song, To its tablelands and its golden sands, we are proud to say we belong. And our faith is great in the Sunshine State, for our Queensland future is grand, From the northern cane to the western plain, it’s a full of promise land.’1 On 9 April 1896, a ten year old boy was in the huge Brisbane crowd that so enthusiastically welcomed Queensland’s eighth governor Lord Lamington and his wife. Fifty years later, on 1 October 1946, that same boy came home to Queensland to be sworn in as the state’s sixteenth governor. It had been an eventful fifty years for John Dudley Lavarack, just as it had been for Queensland. Lord Lamington arrived in Brisbane by ship and paraded in a horse-drawn coach through the streets of Brisbane on his way to be sworn in. Sir John Lavarack arrived at Eagle Farm aerodrome in a Trans Australia Airlines DC3 aircraft that had been escorted from Sydney by three Royal Australian Air Force Liberator bombers. Sir John and Lady Lavarack travelled by car, with a police motorcycle escort, from the aerodrome to Parliament House for the swearing-in ceremony. The British born nobleman Lord Lamington swore to do his best for Queensland on behalf of Queen Victoria. Queensland’s native son, self-made man Sir John Lavarack, swore allegiance to Victoria’s great grandson, King George the Sixth. Many things had changed beyond belief but the fundamentals were much the same. Queenslanders hoped for change in 1946 but they also wanted continuity. They had just come through six years of war. Victory had confirmed their faith in their country and its institutions but they hoped victory would bring changes that would mean more peaceful and prosperous lives for everyone. They knew it would be just as hard to win the peace as it had been to prevail in battle. Queenslanders knew that Lieutenant General Sir John Lavarack had played an important part in winning the war. Now they hoped that he would help them make the best of the peace. Their hopes and the expectations were high because Lavarack was one of them, the first locally born man to hold the state’s highest office. He was one of Queensland’s most notable sons. He was born in Brisbane on 19 December 1885, the third child of English born parents Cecil Wallace Lavarack and his wife Helen Jessie, neé Mackenzie. Cecil Lavarack had been a major in the British army but was working as a draftsman in the Queensland Lands Department when John was born. Cecil also served part time in the Queensland Defence Force. At the time of John’s birth, the family lived at Dunaross, in Heidelberg Street, East Brisbane. John went to Brisbane Grammar School between 1899 and the end of 1904, when he won the Cockle prize for mathematics at the senior examinations. In June 1905, he sat for an examination for entry to the permanent Australian army as an officer. He was successful, achieving high marks in all subjects. On 7 August 1905, he joined the army as lieutenant on probation in the Royal Australian Artillery. His appointment as a permanent officer was confirmed and until 1909 he served in New South Wales and Victoria. Then he was posted to Queensland, first to Left: Sir Henry Abel Smith – he took Queensland by storm.
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Brisbane, then to Townsville (where, in 1966, his name was honoured by the naming of Lavarack Barracks) and Thursday Island. In 1911, he was described as ‘A zealous and industrious officer ... He possesses a vigorous brain and a very good memory.’ However, there were hints that Lavarack had a volcanic temper, was moody and often withdrawn. Despite this, in 1912 he succeeded in a very competitive examination for entry to the military staff college at Camberley in England.2 At Queenscliff in Victoria on 10 October 1912, John married Sybil Nevett Ochiltree, daughter of Dr Edward Ochiltree of Ballarat. Sybil accompanied John when, on 11 December 1912, he sailed for England. Lavarack had almost completed his course at the staff college when the Great War broke out in August 1914. He was transferred to the British army and for six months worked at the War Office in London. In 1915, he went with British artillery units to France and Belgium. By then he had been appointed a brigade major. At the end of 1915 he went with British forces to Greece before, in 1916, he was recalled for duty with the Australian Imperial Forces on the Western Front. He fought at Pozieres and on the Somme until 1917, when he was transferred to the staff of the then Colonel Thomas Blamey. It was an unfortunate move for Lavarack because he and Blamey seem to have loathed one another at first sight. Later, Blamey did all he could to impede Lavarack’s career. Lavarack was frequently in action through 1918 and by the end of the war he had been thrice mentioned in dispatches and had been awarded the Distinguished Service Order and the French Croix de Guerre. In addition, he was appointed a Companion of the Most Distinguished Order of St Michael and St George. The medals were hard won, but Lavarack was to find that the hostilities on the Western Front were merely a prelude to even fiercer battles between high ranking Australian military officers in a staff room war that began in 1919 and did not end until 1946. Lavarack held a variety of postings in the small Australian permanent army, including a term as Chief of General Staff. He would have been entitled to think that he would be considered for command appointment at the very highest level when the next war broke out. However, from 1928, Lavarack had wrecked his own chances when he published perceptive but politically incorrect papers that criticised the prevailing ‘Singapore strategy’ which emphasised Australian naval defence and relied on the supposedly impregnable British defence shield created by the naval base at Singapore. Lavarack argued that this strategy was misguided. He saw that the Singapore shield was a concept more than a reality. He said Japanese aggression was likely and might include actual invasion of Australia. He argued that Australia should strengthen its army so it could resist any such aggression. Lavarack was right and many highly placed people knew it, or ought to have done. However, Lavarack’s message was one nobody wanted to hear, least of all the high-ranking Australian naval officers who did not want the army to grow at their expense. The message was also unpalatable to the politicians of all persuasions who sensed the community was war weary and unwilling to pay the taxes that increased defence spending would require. Lavarack’s many enemies and rivals seized the opportunity to assert he was ‘unsound.’ In October 1939, Lavarack was passed over when Blamey was appointed to command the Second Australian Imperial Force. In 1940, as a consolation
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Left, from top: Panoramic view of Gold Coast development from Lennons Broadbeach Hotel, about 1965. The Spit at Southport, about 1965. Bidders and spectators at an auction of brigalow land in the Chinchilla district, about 1965. A section of the Bruce Highway, between Brisbane and Cairns, 1958. Above, left: Sir John Lavarack, Queensland’s first Australian born governor. Above, right: Sybil Lavarack, a tower of strength in Government House.
prize, Lavarack was appointed to command the Australian Seventh Division, then based in Egypt. Lavarack won distinction in April 1940 when he organised and personally led the first stages of Tobruk’s successful resistance of the previously irresistible German general, Rommel. Lavarack did too well for Blamey’s liking and so Lavarack was ordered to leave Tobruk and go to Syria. Blamey was taking advantage of Prime Minister Curtin’s patronage that allowed Blamey ‘to deal virtually as he wished with Lavarack and other subordinate generals, making or breaking careers according to his own criteria.’3 Lavarack may have dismayed the jealous Blamey when in Syria he achieved some of the first Australian successes of the war. Those successes significantly boosted Australian morale, as Paul Hasluck recounted in the official war history. ‘It was a campaign that was hard for those who fought it but stimulating for those who read about it at home – the story of an advance, simple enough to understand and studded with heroic incident. ... it had an especially heartening effect as an Australian victory achieved under an Australian general, Lavarack, and an example of Australian gallantry in the field.’4 In 1942, Lavarack was knighted for his work in Syria. The citation in support of his knighthood, signed by the British generals Wilson and Wavell, stated that Lavarack had proved himself ‘a Commander of high ability ... abilities of a high order both in the Western Desert where he organised the original
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defence of Tobruk, and during the Syrian campaign.’5 Blamey’s response was to withdraw Lavarack to Australia and then keep him away from any fighting command where he might win further laurels. From 1942 to 1944, Lavarack commanded the First Australian Army that was then in Queensland preparing for counter-offensive operations against the Japanese. In February 1944, just when it appeared the men would go north and into action, Lavarack was sent to Washington as the head of the Australian Military Mission there. He did not return to Australia until August 1946. Lavarack retired from the Army a month later, ending a military career that had given much to Australia but might have given even more but for personality clashes and bitter rivalries.6 As the war ended, consideration was being given in Australia and in London to the appointment of new governors in both Queensland and New South Wales. At the end of 1945, New South Wales Premier William McKell travelled to London to argue the case that an Australian should be appointed to succeed Lord Wakehurst as governor of his state. It was widely reported that McKell’s argument was strongly resisted by the Dominions Office, as the Colonial Office had become. At the same time in Queensland, Premier Frank Cooper was expected to resign to make possible the promotion of the state’s Treasurer Ned Hanlon. ‘The Governor of Queensland, Sir Leslie Wilson, will leave for England in March and Mr Cooper’s acceptance of Governorship is a foregone conclusion by all political parties’ reported the Canberra Times.7 In resisting McKell’s proposal, the Dominions Office confirmed the obvious constitutional reality that Australian state governors were appointed by the monarch and advice to the monarch about such appointments would be given by the responsible British minister and certainly not directly by the relevant Australian state governments. However, it was also obvious that times had changed greatly since the 1920s, when the question of appointment of Australian governors was last in contention. There had been a war and Australia had grown up because of it. It had looked to America for support at the critical moment when Japanese invasion appeared possible and when it had become starkly apparent that Britain was wholly committed to fighting the war in Europe. America had given the support and reassurance that Australia desperately needed. The episode did not necessarily weaken the affections of Australia for Britain but it did demonstrate that Australia had arrived at a new place in the world. In that new place, it was increasingly untenable to say that Australians should not hold their own country’s highest positions. As the Canberra Times editorialised on the New South Wales case ‘It is out of step with practical Empire politics for the desires of self-governing portions of the Empire to find themselves frustrated in the attainment of their desires. If Whitehall obstructs the Australian states or any of them in their desire to have an Australian appointed as Governor, the whip hand does lie with the states concerned. It is not essential that the office of Governor should be filled ... the unedifying spectacle might arise of State after State leaving vacant the office of Governor. ... there is nothing that a Governor can do that a Lieutenant-Governor cannot do.’ 8 The Dominions Office gave in, at least to the extent that it agreed to appoint an Australian as governor of New South Wales. Whether it appointed the Australian whom McKell might have suggested is unknown but, on 1 April 1946, it was announced that the Australian Lieutenant-General John Northcott would become Governor of New South Wales.9 A few weeks later, it was reported
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Below: South Molle Island, 1950s. Right: ‘The finest resort south of the Equator, Royal Hayman Hotel, Hayman Island.’ The island resort represented the height of style and sophistication.
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that Sir John Lavarack, not Frank Cooper, was the likely appointment as next Governor of Queensland.10 However, Lavarack’s appointment was not officially announced until 1 September 1946.11 It seems probable that in the cases of both the New South Wales and Queensland appointments, the Dominions Office eventually avoided confrontation by agreeing to appoint Australians, but not the particular Australians whose names were put forward by the state governments. In 1946, few Australians could quarrel with the appointment of high ranking locally born military officers rather than recently retired former politicians. Lavarack and Northcott had served most of their careers outside the states they were to govern and thus they were detached from local political affiliations and controversy. Certainly, the news of Lavarack’s appointment was welcomed in Queensland. ‘One of Us Now Our Governor’ shouted the Courier-Mail headline on 2 September 1946. The newspaper went on to report that Sir John and Lady Lavarack had three adult sons, while Sir John had five brothers and two sisters living in Queensland. On 1 October 1946, the Brisbane Telegraph was equally parochial when it reported ‘Governor is Home ... Sir John Lavarack came home to Brisbane today, after a distinguished military career, to become Governor of his native state.’ The Courier-Mail estimated that 50,000 people lined the processional route between Fortitude Valley and Parliament House, where Sir John was sworn in. Two days later, the government hosted a welcoming garden party at Parliament House for one thousand guests.12 After his military career and the posting to Washington, Lavarack found it hard to settle down to a quite different life as Governor of Queensland. On 31 October 1946 he wrote to a friend ‘I feel, as I expected, rather out of things here in Queensland. It is hard to settle down to the rather humdrum life of a State Governor after having some slight experience of international affairs.’13 Throughout his career, doubts had gnawed at Lavarack’s soul, doubts about whether he had made the right career choices, doubts whether in his profession he had gone as far as he should have. Commentator Malcolm Ellis wrote ‘His career was a series of disappointments ... they were mainly due to his own deficiencies of temperament, which made him apt to lose control of his temper and to make it plain at the wrong time how little he suffered fools gladly.’ 14 As governor, he seems to have been able to keep his temper under control, but he was always a dour and reserved man, never off parade and never at ease and relaxed. This prevented him from attaining anything like the immense personal popularity that had been enjoyed by his predecessor Leslie Wilson and was to come the way of his successor Henry Abel-Smith. By contrast with them, Lavarack was an austere and somewhat remote man. At first, that element of his character harmonised with the mood of the early post-war period. However, as better times came and Queensland learned to relax and enjoy itself, Lavarack seemed to be left behind. He was lucky to have in Sybil a wife who was more outgoing and far more adept at connecting with the community. It was generally felt that she more than made up for whatever the governor lacked. That is not to say that Lavarack was unpopular, he was not. He was admired and respected because of his military record and the office he held, but he did
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not win affection. He did enjoy particular popularity among returned service men and women, the Red Cross, Legacy clubs and among Boy Scout and Girl Guide groups. They were his natural constituencies, he shared their interests and their points of view. Just two weeks after Lavarack had been sworn in, the Queensland parliament took action to increase the governor’s salary and allowances. One of the arguments against the appointments of Australians to the post had been that very few local people could afford to take the job because it had invariably been necessary for the governors to dip into their own pockets in order to maintain vice-regal activities. It was agreed on both sides of parliament that the considerable financial sacrifice should no longer be an obstacle to local appointments. An appropriation of 3,000 pounds was made for the governor’s salary, with an additional 4,431 pounds for Government House expenses, including the salaries of six staff positions (aide, official secretary, clerk, clerk-typist, orderly and lodge keeper) and the costs of travelling, printing, stationery, postage and other expenses.15 It was a more generous arrangement than before, but the governor was certainly not going to be able to afford a lavish touring and entertainment program. Despite the constraints, Lavarack did manage to travel extensively around the state, particularly in the early years before ill health overtook him. He attended countless locals shows and often stayed in a district for several days on either side of the core activity so that he and Lady Lavarack could meet with community groups, visit schools and hospitals and talk with community representatives. Everywhere he went, there was a good chance that Lavarack would meet returned soldiers who had served in units he had commanded. The tours were extensive, often lasting six weeks or more, and travel was usually
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Below left: John Ferguson and Lesley King at the Casa Maria, Brisbane, 1949. Tea – but not wine, could be drunk at restaurants. Below: John Wilcox and Beryl Copeland jiving at the Blue Room, Brisbane 1956. Right, top: Mount Tibrogargan looms over a pineapple farm in the Glass House Mountains district. Centre: Sun-soaked tropical fruits going to market. Bottom: Harvesting pineapples, Glass House Mountains, 1956.
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by train. Before long, Sir John formed the view that increased population in rural and regional districts was essential for post war recovery. He publicly argued for decentralisation, for a halt to the ‘drift to the cities,’ for renewed efforts to ‘people the north’ and for the strengthening of the British Empire as a bulwark against impending world chaos. These were not controversial positions, nor were his warnings about ‘the enemy within.’ It was a time of global insecurity and Queenslanders were not exempt from anti-communist paranoia. Lavarack warned that there should be vigilance against internal subversion. Returned soldiers, in particular, strongly agreed. However, Lavarack did earn a stern rebuke from federal Labor government immigration minister Arthur Calwell when he argued that it was selfish for Australia to seek migrants from Britain, which needed all its people to help its own post war reconstruction. Calwell was stung because his programs provided for large scale immigration from Britain. ‘I am amazed that any person in his high office should intrude into political affairs. If the governor wants to play politics he should resign and stand for election to a federal seat. He can’t have it both ways,’16 Calwell said. The affair did not damage Lavarack and in 1950 Queensland’s Labor government re-appointed him for a further five year term from October 1951.17 The new age of international aviation passenger services brought many important and interesting visitors to Government House. People like the Earl and Countess Mountbatten and Montgomery of Alamein had shared wartime experiences with Lavarack and they also had the same keen interest in the welfare of returned service men and women. There had been a proposal that King George the Sixth and Queen Elizabeth would undertake a royal tour in Australia in 1949, but late in 1948 all arrangements were indefinitely postponed due to the king’s ill health. The king died on 6 February 1952 and there was genuine mourning everywhere. However, there was joy when the new monarch, Queen Elizabeth the Second, was crowned in June 1953. The joy became excitement when it was announced that the Queen and Prince Philip would tour Australia in early 1954. It was to be the first visit to this country by a reigning monarch. Preparations for the tour seemed to mark the end of the dreary post war years of restraint and shortages. Queenslanders could now enjoy the fruits of better times, funded by a wool boom from 1949, a resurgence in mining activity and an increase in industrial production. Population growth had been slow through the war years and Queensland’s 1947 population, 1.1 million, was only a modest increase on the 1938 figure of one million. However, by 1954, the total had grown to 1.3 million. From the time of the queen’s coronation, the main topic of conversation among those Queenslanders was the forthcoming royal tour, especially such questions as where they might catch a glimpse of the royal couple, how could their community show that it was more loyal than any other, how could it be even more imaginative than any other place in commemorating the tour. Newspapers were filled with stories about people who would be close to the Queen when she arrived and there were endless features about preparations at Government House, where the royal visitors would stay for several days. People who could be expected to have personal contact with the Queen, even the Lavaracks, needed to rehearse so there would be no awkward moments.
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The Queen and Prince Philip arrived in Sydney on 3 February 1954. Thirty five breathless days later, they arrived in Brisbane for the Queensland component of their tour, from 9 to 18 March. Within that time, there were side trips to Bundaberg, Toowoomba, Cairns, Townsville, Mackay and Rockhampton. Everywhere the reception was tumultuous. Queensland took pride in the warmth of its welcome. The Courier-Mail claimed on 10 March 1954 that ‘Sydney’s decorations, if you want the truth, were more vivid than ours: Melbourne was more grand beyond anything we could attempt: Canberra more impressive in pomp and circumstance. Yet none of them could have charmed the Queen as Brisbane did yesterday. None had the gaiety and the friendliness and spontaneous happiness of this welcome. It was pure Queensland, warm and hospitable, a little informal and unbuttoned, perhaps, but transparently genuine. Her Majesty has seen nothing quite like it before.’ The newspaper then claimed on 18 March that at the farewell function the night before, an evening garden party at Fernberg, ‘The Queen has seen nothing more beautiful in Australia. The air was warm and saturated with moonlight; palm trees were silhouetted against the sky.’ Through all of this, the impressive, soldierly figure of Sir John Lavarack was never far away. In 1955, Lavarack’s term was renewed for a further year,18 then in 1956 a further extension was arranged. There were persistent rumours that Premier Vince Gair coveted the governor’s job but first he had to deal with industrial strife in the shearing industry and then instability within the Labor party that had made Queensland its fiefdom since 1915. In January 1957, Lavarack fell ill and was ordered to rest for several months. On 25 January, Chief Justice Alan Mansfield was sworn in as Administrator to act during Sir John’s absence on sick leave. In May 1957, the Lavaracks moved from Government House to their own home at Buderim. Sir John did not return to duty. His term as governor ended on 30 September and he died on 4 December 1957. He was given a state funeral. He had been a notable Australian and he had been a great Queenslander. Lady Lavarack lived in retirement at Buderim until her death on 22 December 1974. She had been the quiet achiever. During the Second World War she had played a leading part in the AIF Women’s Association that provided support for the wives of Australian soldiers on active service. Before she arrived in Queensland she told reporters she had noted during her time in Washington that many American women were ‘interested, involved and efficient’ and she hoped she might be able to encourage Queensland women in those directions.19 She did that, firstly by setting an example of active involvement in organisations like Food for Britain, the Red Cross, the QCWA and the Victoria League. She regularly made the grounds of Government House available for large fund-raising fêtes, with up to 15,000 people attending on single occasions. She became president or patron of at least 43 community organisations and played a leadership role in each of them. On 15 October 1957, almost one hundred women’s organisations combined to organise a farewell tribute function for her. She deserved that. She also deserved the thanks of all Queenslanders for her part in taking the governor to the people. There had been profound changes in Queensland during the Lavaracks’ time at Government House. The state was reaching out, toward its centenary in 1959. Then the state would really come of age. It would be the right time, Queenslanders thought, to show the world what their state was made of
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From top: A boomerang, a crown and a pineapple – cakes with a special Queensland flavour for the Queen, 1954 Below: Marie Douglas sorting new Chocolate Royal biscuits introduced by bakers Websters for the Royal Tour. Right: The Queen and Prince Philip with the Lavaracks behind, on the steps of Government House, 1954. Far right: School children at the Brisbane Exhibition ground meet the Queen and Prince Philip, 1954.
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and what its people were capable of. It would be a time to show those who condescended and sneered what a great place Queensland really was. There would be plenty to celebrate in 1959, plenty to be proud of. Life was truly great in the Sunshine State and it was getting better every day. The state’s economy was diversifying and it was now much less reliant on the pastoral and agricultural industries, even though those industries were still vitally important. Mining was expanding, especially at Mt Isa and at the Blair Athol coal mines. There had been promising oil discoveries. Manufacturing was burgeoning and was creating employment for the population which was by now growing rapidly. The state government was spending more on schools, hospitals and building programs. Queensland was beginning to harvest the bounty of its natural resources and its pioneering human endeavour. A systematic program of regional road building meant that it was possible to think realistically of a time in the not too distant future when the state’s major centres might be linked by sealed roads. People were travelling more and motels were starting to appear in cities and towns. Tourism was being talked about as a growth industry and of course the Barrier Reef was just one of the things that made Queensland great. The surf was rising and so were the teenagers. Rock and roll was everywhere and television became a reality from August 1959. The contraceptive pill was introduced from 1961. The reality of the pill’s availability challenged conventional morality. As though it was trying to prove what a sophisticated place it had become, Queensland was considering new laws that would make it possible for wine and food to be on the same tables, at the same time, in a very small number of selected restaurants. However, liquor was still strictly prohibited in proximity to places where dances were being held. This was a legacy of wartime rules designed to protect young Queensland women from the lusts of predatory servicemen. Queensland cricketers still hadn’t won a Sheffield Shield, but everyone knew that next year it would be their turn, just as everyone knew their state was the nation’s most productive nursery of sporting greats.
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Queensland had long been known as the Labor state, but that changed at the general elections of August 1957. Labor was thrown out of office and did not regain power until 1989. That seemed fair because by 1957 Labor had been in power since 1915, except for a three year interval from 1929. By 1957, Labor had long ceased to be Ryan and Theodore’s radical party. For several years there had been signs of ructions between groups within the party. In early 1957, Premier Gair refused to implement party policy to legislate for three weeks annual leave for workers. In April 1957, Gair was expelled from the party and he took half his parliamentary colleagues with him to the cross benches to create the Queensland Labor Party (QLP). Its central policy, perhaps its only policy objective, was to keep the Australian Labor Party (ALP) out of office. At the August election, the coalition of the Country and Liberal parties won 42 seats while the QLP and the rump ALP between them won only 31 seats. It was a revolution that most people thought would never happen. The new premier was ‘Honest Frank’ Nicklin, an earnest and avuncular man. He
seemed soft and gentle, but he and his ministers soon showed that they had iron fists inside their velvet gloves. Before long, they had adopted many of the tactics of their opponents and had refined them into art forms. Manipulation of electoral boundaries, declarations of states of emergency and suspension of civil liberties to quell strikes, increased police powers, and confrontation rather than compromise all continued to be fixtures on the state’s political scene. If Vince Gair had ever wanted to be governor, he had missed his chance. On 12 November 1957, Buckingham Palace announced that Lieutenant Colonel Sir Henry Abel Smith would succeed Sir John Lavarack as Queensland’s next governor.20 ‘Who?’ was the common first reaction when Queenslanders heard the news. ‘Why not an Australian?’ was the next question. The questions were at least partially answered on 10 December 1957 when it was reported in London that the Queen had received Sir Henry Abel Smith. ‘Sir Henry and Her Majesty kissed hands upon his appointment as Governor of Queensland.’21 Perhaps there was something special about this new governor, Queenslanders thought when they read this news and when they learned that Sir Henry and the Queen were old friends, indeed they were related. In
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Left: The Lavaracks with their Scotty dogs Monty and Sally. Centre: Lady Lavarack visiting Braille House. Right: The Lavaracks at Government House. Top right: Bidders at a Cloncurry bull sale watch the action, 1956. Second from top: Rainbow Bay at Coolangatta, 1962. Third from top: The Forgan Smith building at the University of Queensland, 1963. Bottom: The Hopevale community, gathered in front of the Lutheran church, 1965.
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1931 the Queen, then the five year old Princess Elizabeth, had carried the train of her cousin Lady May Cambridge’s wedding gown when Lady May married the then Captain Henry Abel Smith. Not since the days of Lord and Lady Lamington, six decades earlier, had there been such a close connection between the Queen and Queensland, the Queen’s Land. Sir Henry was born in London on 8 March 1900. His family background was in English provincial banking. Young Henry was sent to Eton but immediately contracted pneumonia and was sent home. He never returned to Eton and instead was taught by private tutors. In Queensland, Sir Henry joked about Eton and claimed that he had learned in two days everything the school could teach him. He entered the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst and in 1919 he was commissioned into the Royal Horse Guards. In 1928 he was appointed aide-de-camp to the Earl of Athlone, then Governor-General of South Africa. Another joke of Sir Henry’s, probably based in truth, was that the Earl gave him the job on condition that he would stay well away from his daughter, Lady May Helen Emma Cambridge. May was a great great grand daughter of King George the Third, a great grand daughter of Queen Victoria and a niece of both King George the Fifth and Queen Mary. Despite the Earl of Athlone’s injunction, Henry and May did court each other. Eyebrows were raised when the romance became serious because it was poor form in those days for ‘royals’ like May to marry commoners. Sir Henry later regaled Queensland audiences when he told a story about Queen Mary’s reaction ‘When the Duchess of Devonshire called on Queen Mary to apologise for her son marrying the dancer Adele Astaire, the Queen said “don’t worry my dear, I have a niece called Smith.” The niece made a good marriage with Henry Abel Smith, commoner or not. It lasted more than 61 years, until Sir Henry died in 1993. The Abel Smiths had three children, Anne (born 1932), Richard (1933) and Elizabeth (1936). During the Second World War, Lady May took the children to Canada where her father was then Governor-General. Henry had gained the rank of major in 1934 and was a temporary lieutenant colonel in 1941 before permanent appointment to that rank in 1944. He had a good war. He fought first in Palestine and Iraq, then took command of the Second Household Cavalry Regiment (HCR) to prepare it for a role in the invasion of Europe. Later, the Corps commander, Sir Brian Horrocks, wrote that Abel Smith transformed the HCR into ‘the finest armoured car regiment in the army. So relentlessly did he train them that any other regiment would have been driven to mutiny.’ The training paid dividends in 1944 when the regiment crossed the English Channel and immediately took on a forward armed reconnaissance role, thrusting deep into enemy held territory to capture vital bridges before the retreating Germans could destroy them. In 1945, Abel Smith was decorated with the award of Companion, Distinguished Service Order, in recognition of this notable war service. After the war, Abel Smith was promoted to acting colonel of the Corps of Household Cavalry. In that capacity, he worked closely with King George the Sixth to revive the ceremonial life of peacetime London. Today’s involvement of the Household Cavalry in the Trooping of the Colour ceremony was largely the creation of Sir Henry, after the King asked for the cavalry to be given an enhanced role. In 1950, he was invested as Knight Commander of the Royal Victorian Order and in 1961 he was invested as Knight Commander of the
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Order of St Michael and St George. In 1950, Sir Henry said ‘I have had enough of uniforms’ and he retired to the life of a country farmer. Seven years later, he was invited to become Governor of Queensland.22 The good humoured Sir Henry didn’t mind that his wife took precedence over him on royal occasions. She was born a ‘royal,’ he only became one by marrying her. When she was born in January 1906, she was Her Serene Highness Princess May of Teck. Her father was the Prince of Teck who was the brother of Queen Mary, the wife of King George the Fifth. Her mother was Alice Mary Victoria Augusta Pauline Saxe-Cobourg and Gotha, Princess Alice of Albany, grand daughter of Queen Victoria. In 1917, at the request of King George the Fifth, members of the royal family abandoned their German titles. Princess May became Lady May Cambridge while her father became the Earl of Athlone. Lady May was never far from the centre of royal family life and for more than eighty years she was included in all the weddings and funerals of its members. In 1923 she designed a Girl Guide camping ground display as the royal family’s contribution to the Olympia Exhibition. In the same year, she was a bridesmaid at the wedding of Prince Albert and Lady Elizabeth Bowes Lyon (later King George the Sixth and Queen Elizabeth). When Lady May died in 1994, she was described as ‘the last survivor of the Old Royal Family.’23 Queenslanders felt honoured that people of such position and achievement were coming to their Government House. The lustre of the Abel Smiths was enhanced when it was made known that Sir Henry had been an outstanding polo player and had a keen eye for a racehorse, while Lady May was also a keen horsewoman who was looking forward to travel through Queensland’s farming and pastoral districts.24 Sir Henry and Lady May arrived in Brisbane in March 1958. They soon showed that the appointment had been an inspirational choice. They took Queensland by storm. ‘Sir Henry just swept everyone along with him, he was very much in the Sir Leslie Wilson mould’ recalled Manfred Cross. ‘He arrived and took one look at Government House and said that the place had to be brightened up. He just went ahead an ordered a whole lot of new furniture and renovations and even a swimming pool. He told the government about it later and they had to go along with it. That was his whole approach to his job, lets brighten things up. He was refreshing, inspirational, a wonderful man.’25 Sir Henry was sworn in on 18 March, 1958. He was described as the last of his kind, the Empire’s last ‘quasi-royal imperial notable.’26 Perhaps, but Sir Henry soon showed there was nothing imperious about his personal style. He expected no deference, only civility. He was infectiously jovial, equally at home in a shearing shed or in the Queen’s drawing room, the life of any party, invariably dapper and a man who looked as though he might have been born wearing a cravat. Queensland was excited, by its new governor and his wife, by the looming centenary and by the perception that the state was coming of age. The centenary was pre-eminent on the Abel Smiths’ agendas for their first twenty months in their new job. Queenslanders were talking about the centenary, arguing whether it should be pronounced as it was spelt or as ‘cen-teen-ary.’ The question was still a live one on 25 November 1959 when Sir Henry opened
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Above: Coveted invitations to meet Queen Victoria’s direct descendants. Top, centre: Beatles concert, Festival Hall, 1964. Lady May Abel Smith attended this concert. She wore a tiara. Top right: Brisbane, 9 September 1954. Still exuberant as she departs Queensland, Princess Alexandra chats with Sir Henry Abel Smith and Premier Frank Nicklin. Centre: The Abel Smiths and their dog Benjy prepare to leave on a driving holiday in southern Australia.
Chapter Twelve – life is great in the sunshine state
Brisbane’s Centenary Pool, a swimming complex on Gregory Terrace. It was a bold architectural work that spoke of optimism and a new era, it was symbolic of an emerging new Queensland culture. People were singing the centenary song, ‘Life is Great in the Sunshine State,’ Clyde Collins’ song, written especially for the centenary. Before long, people were also humming the Alexandra Waltz, written by Queensland’s own velvet voiced radio announcer Russ Tyson and set to music by Collins. It was the theme for the 1959 visit by Queensland’s very own centenary royal princess, Princess Alexandra of Kent. Her visit to Queensland was a triumph for her and for her mentors, the Abel Smiths. Princess Alexandra, 22 years young, tall, attractive and engagingly shy, was mobbed by 200,000 Brisbane people from the moment she stepped out of an aircraft at Eagle Farm at 2.30 pm on 18 August 1959. It was a welcome that would have flattered the Queen. The welcome and the warmth continued wherever she went, from Brisbane to Warwick, Toowoomba, Charleville, Longreach, Mt Isa, Cairns, Townsville, Mackay, Rockhampton, Bundaberg and, of course, the Barrier Reef. There was a whirlwind of activities until her departure on 9 September, with the emphasis always on the youth of the princess and the youth of Queensland. The princess was unfailingly engaged, interested and charming. For her, the highlights of the tour may have been Gay Kahler’s vocal rendition of the Alexandra Waltz at a Centenary Ball and a cuddle with six friendly koalas at the first state reception. Commentators noted that the tour proved that Queensland, and all of Australia, had indeed grown up. No longer were visiting ‘royals’ treated with the deference that amounted to a cultural cringe. Now, royal visitors were being taken for what they were, distinguished and interesting people, celebrities with style and substance. Ordinary people met and talked with them and liked them. The visitors liked the local people they met. It was almost as though Alexandra’s tour had been a reunion within a family whose bonds of kinship and love had been allowed to weaken. Now, they were being strengthened and renewed. People surprised themselves when they found how much warmth, even love, was still there.
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part three – Viceroys, Soldiers and Statesmen
There were more royal tours during the Abel Smith years. Princess Alice, Lady May’s mother, came to Queensland several times. She travelled the state with Sir Henry and Lady May, laying foundation stones, receiving debutantes, presenting medals, honouring pioneers, opening new projects and generally acknowledging achievement and effort. On many occasions, the indefatigable Princess Alice went where no royal visitor had ever been before – and where none has been since. She and Lady May even went to a Beatles concert at Festival Hall in Brisbane in 1964. The Queen came to Brisbane in March 1963, the royal yacht Britannia bringing her up the river. Again, the warmth, the informality and the success of the visit owed much to the Abel Smiths who were always on hand as a bridge between their royal relative and local people. The Abel Smiths travelled tirelessly within Queensland, even when there was no royal visit. Wherever they went, they were accessible to people. They were
often accompanied by their attractive and vivacious daughter, Miss Elizabeth Abel Smith, who built bridges with young people. It was suggested that Miss Elizabeth was rather headstrong and perhaps even wayward. If she was, that simply attached even more humanity to the vice-regal family. Half a century later, the Abel Smiths are still remembered fondly throughout the state. Historical societies include at least one of their visits as a milestone in local history timelines; sporting clubs, like the Far North Queensland Amateur Turf Club which inaugurated the ‘Cairns Amateurs’ under Sir Henry’s patronage in 1959, say that Sir Henry gave them a boost; while women’s groups and charities gratefully recall Lady May. They were both keenly interested in everything they saw, they were both wonderful ambassadors for Queensland for as long as they lived.
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From left: Sir Henry about to make a television broadcast from Government House. Crowds gathered in front of shop windows to watch television. Opposite, from left: Lady May at the Eagle Farm races. She knew a good thing when she saw one. At the Rockhampton races, Carnival Week, from left, Lady May, Mary Bourke, Sir Henry, Mrs Archer and Mrs Sheehy. Sir Henry with champion Queensland jockey Russell Maddock.
Chapter Twelve – life is great in the sunshine state
Typical of the fond recollections of the Abel Smiths that are so treasured in Queensland are those of Scott Milson and his family. The Milsons owned Springvale station, between Winton and Boulia, and in about 1961 the Abel Smiths stayed two nights there. There had been previous vice-regal visits, but none to equal this occasion. ‘My father took Sir Henry around the place to show him what a bad drought looked like. My parents thought Sir Henry and Lady May were absolutely charming and faultless guests, considerate, interested in everything and everyone, amusing and wonderful mixers. Before dinner Mum and Dad invited everyone on the station into the homestead for drinks, including the Aboriginal women. It was the first time anything like that had ever happened at Springvale. The Abel Smiths worked the room like troopers, spoke with everyone and showed genuine interest. They were just charming. Years later Mum ran into them at a party in London. They insisted Mum come and stay with them, took her to tea with Princess Alice, had a great old yarn and spoke very fondly of their time in Queensland.’ Queensland would have been happy for the Abel Smiths to stay in its Government House forever but, by 1966, the vice-regal couple had earned retirement. As they drove through the city toward Brisbane airport, thousands waved, many cried, some people clutched at their car as though to hold them back. Sir Henry and Lady May re-visited Queensland in 1978 and soon found they were still celebrities, still recognised wherever they went, everywhere invited to stop for a cup of tea, a drink or a chat.27 They kept in touch with a network of friends in England who had Queensland connections. Sir Henry and Lady May settled at Winkfield, near Windsor, in the south east of England. They took an active part in life around Windsor, including race meetings, horse and garden shows, until Sir Henry had to enter a nursing home in 1990. Sir Henry died on 24 January 1993. Lady May survived until 29 May 1994, in vigorous good health until the end. For eight years, they had personified the spirit of Queensland and they had helped that spirit to rise and ambitions to soar. Somehow, they had proved that life really was great in the Sunshine State. It was said in 1966 that the end of their time in Queensland marked the end of an era. Fifty years later, that must be contradicted. We can see that the Abel Smiths marked the beginning of a new era, an era of confident progress to the present. It was the beginning of Queensland’s age of understanding of itself, of what it had been, what it was and what it might become.
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