The expedition was a rough affair in that it was put together hastily with little equipment and without much Government assistance. Though in agreement with the equal set-up and co-hosting of the expedition, the leaders were mismatched. They were of different backgrounds and characters and each had their own agenda for the expedition. Their differences became apparent soon after they set out. 

These differences were highlighted by the squabbling that went on throughout the journey and was most noticeable on the two occasions; the crossing of the Murray and Mitta Rivers and also during their passage through the pass of the Great Divide near Mt Disappointment. Years later, following Hovell’s presentation at Geelong in 1853, the friction became public through a series of newspaper letters. However, at the termination point, there was a moment of accord when the men, having blazed a tree with their initials, celebrated and toasted together their achievement of reaching the sea.

The following passage is the prologue from the book, Hamilton Hume, Our Greatest Explorer by Robert Macklin and gives more insight into the characters of Hume and Hovell.

Prologue

“They emerged from the bush like skeleton ghosts, the convicts first, staggering in short steps, all in rags but one – he was barefoot and naked, wild eyes staring from a face of black bristling whiskers. It would be days before he returned to his senses. They were followed by the mounted naval man, his clothing torn and hanging loose; no sign left of the haughtiness, the pomposity that had marked the start of the journey.

Then, finally, came the tall, angular bushman who had guided and shepherded them all the way, there and back - across the swollen creeks and rivers, through the valleys and up the sharp rocky ridges, down again to boggy swamplands, the wide plains, the thick bush that had become almost impassable, where the horses collapsed from exhaustion and the dogs died on their feet; the open country where they slaughtered one of their remaining bullocks for meat to sustain them and the hides to cover their bleeding soles.

He got them through. They didn’t understand how. Willpower was part of it, but only part. There were the Aboriginal people. He talked to them in their lingo and they told him where to go, what to avoid, how to find the springs and waterholes. But there was something else, something much more important: it was his knowledge of the landscape and his feel for the bush, almost mystical in their strength and certainty. No one else understood it, and certainly not the naval man with his useless instruments and his skittish fears. Perhaps even he, the bushman didn’t fully comprehend it. No matter; he got them through,

And on the way they saw what no white man had ever seen: a countryside that stretched in glory from one end of the horizon to the other; fertile land, virgin plains big enough to run a million sheep and cattle; broad enough to support 10,000 farms, rich enough to found a nation.

The country was Australia, the Bushman, Hamilton Hume”

Extract reprinted with permission from Hamilton Hume by Robert Macklin, Hachette Australia 2016

Further differences in the characters of the men are described in the following poem by Barry Wenke, a retired teacher of Albury.

HUMAN  FOOTPRINTS

Barry Wenke, Albury, 2023

Permission to publish, granted May 2023