Berrima is a small town of around 800ish people in a part of New South Wales called the Southern Highlands. It generally has a temperate climate, though there are still bushfires from time to time since it's still 'Straya, after all. And of course it's easy to get burnt in the intense heat and humidity of summer, as I did today. Still, the buildings and gardens have a very "English countryside" feel to them.

At one time it was thought that Berrima would be much larger than it turned out to be. One man who believed in that future was James Harper, born in 1805 to two convicts who were living in Parramatta. Through hard work (probably) and an ability to work the system (almost certainly), he managed to have himself appointed as the district's chief constable while also working as a publican, as well as securing quite a number of other lucrative government positions for himself.

Meanwhile back in Britain Mary Robinson was sentenced to death for a crime that we don't know the details of (but probably involved pilfering from the silversmith that she worked for), a sentence that was commuted to transport to Australia. She arrived in 1825, and met and married James the following year.

In 1832 the couple bought their first block in Berrima, then in 1834 they purchased 40 hectares (100 acres) more, and built the Surveyor General Inn on the earlier plot. This was probably to honour the then Surveyor General Thomas Mitchell, who had designated Berrima to be the centre of the district for the purposes of a new road running from Sydney to the grazing areas further south. That SHOULD, in time, have made the town prosperous. One of the most prosperous people in a prosperous town would of course be the innkeeper, who served not just alcohol but lodging, meals, and various other goods and services since this was LONG before supermarkets and Westfield came along. In 1835 to 1836 he and Mary built a 2 story Georgian triple brick mansion on the 100 acres, in whose drawing room I am now standing. You'll eventually see more of this in another gallery.

The house's glassware collection dates from 1710 (60 years before Cook surveyed the east coast of Australia) to the mid 1840s if I recall correctly. That meant that most if not all of it was imported. (As were the windows of the house, since the production of window glass took a while to get going in the then-colony.)

I've chosen to focus on two pieces in particular because of a tale that two of the helpful and friendly volunteer guides told me about them. Number 6 on the left seems stocky and solid, no? That's because it was designed to be used by the host when calling for silence. He could slam it down on the table causing a noise like a gunshot to ring out, without breaking the glass. It would certainly attract people's attention.

Number 7 on the right had what was essentially a false bottom. It would appear as if the host was drinking the same amount as his guests, but the glass in fact held far less alcohol. The host could therefore retain a relatively sober head while his guests became quite drunk indeed. This could be put to either positive uses, like ensuring the safety of his guests, or... to more, shall we say, questionable uses, like extracting useful information from guests who are subject to the "In Vino, Veritas" principle. Or perhaps a little of both.

Unfortunately it didn't do James much good. In a story that seems familiar at the moment, in the 1840s there was an economic downturn which severely affected those who had borrowed heavily. (And let us not kid ourselves that building a Georgian mansion in what was still a frontier town at the time would have come cheap.) In 1841 he sold 2 of his hundred acres. In 1844 he mortgaged his home. By then by all accounts he was hitting the bottle a bit hard, as publicans of the time were wont to do. He died of unknown (but possibly drink related, given some comments by the doctors of the time) causes in 1845, not quite reaching his 40th birthday.

Mary could not keep up the mortgage payments and lost the house, though she remarried and apparently kept the Surveyor General Inn, which still operates today as Australia's oldest continuously licenced inn. It remained in the family until 1924.

James and Mary had 6 children, 3 of which survived to adulthood. Unfortunately Mary (who was 2 years older than James) did not survive him very long. She died only 6 years later in 1851.

The property went through some bad times as well, but thankfully is now in the hands of the National Trust. It and its expansive gardens are well worth visiting... but take some water with you if it's a hot day. The town centre is only a few minutes' walk way to buy something to drink, but it's a hike back up the hill.

Oh, and why did Berrima fail to thrive? Initially Thomas Mitchell's new road brought mail coaches and people to it, and the jail provided jobs. However in 1867 the railway came to the Southern Highlands and bypassed Berrima in favour of Moss Vale, about 10 klicks to the south, making it, not Berrima, the main hub for moving goods and people to and from Sydney.

One last thing... a shiny new (but virtual and imaginary) penny to the first regular visitor who spots the difference between this photo, and those that have preceded it.