“A visitor may almost imagine himself transplanted into some nobleman's park. The grass, the mushrooms, and the great variety of trees and plants induced me to think that it was the most charming walk I had had in the colony.” This charming walk was through the central lakes district of Tasmania, specifically between Steppes and Interlaken, and a report of the ramble was published, anonymously, in a March 1878 issue of Hobart’s The Tribune.
The charm of this region was not lost on the colonists of late 19th century Tasmania, with increasing numbers of visitors making the trek from Hobart and Launceston to explore and fish the many lakes. Many of these travellers broke their journey at Steppes, finding shelter, provisions and company at the home of the Wilson family.
“I found Mr Wilson at home,” wrote the anonymous Tribune adventurer, “and as agreeable and hospitable as he has the reputation of being towards all who have occasion to make a stay at the Steppes.”
“Mr Wilson” was Scotsman James Wilson, Superintendent of Police for the district since 1863. Newspaper archives are littered with reports of his generosity:
“I found Mr. James Wilson, the sub-inspector, in charge, a genial, well-informed man. In his bijou of a cottage, he and his wife made me welcome as a prince of the blood.” The Mercury, November 1884.
“Our two and a half hours at The Steppes passed most happily, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson and their interesting family entertaining us well with interchange of thought and information.” The Mercury, January 1889.
“At 2:55 I reached Mr. Wilson's, of the Steppes, where I received much hospitality, in fact, I was not allowed to go on any further, but was made to stay there the night, and proceed to the Great Lake next day.” The Mercury, February 1913.
A correspondent in January 1909 relayed that every Governor of Tasmania of the preceding 50 years had been accommodated by the Wilson family when visiting the region.
The homestead – a beacon of rest for so many travellers, site of the community bakery and post office, and home to the Wilson family for 112 years – still stands. Thirty-five kilometres north-west of Bothwell, it continues to keep watch over travellers as they leave the highway and join the road to Interlaken.
On the afternoon that we visit Steppes, we have the homestead to ourselves. We wander through the property, feeling intrusive as we peer through the windows of the locked buildings. An ancient refrigerator can be seen against one wall of the kitchen, a manual laundry wringer in another room. The verandah is neatly balustraded, mirrored by the picket fence enclosing a small front yard.
The site and the forested reserve around it are now managed by the Tasmanian Parks and Wildlife Service, which, in partnership with the Mountain Huts Preservation Society, try to restore and repair as much as possible. It is a difficult undertaking though, with time and the elements taking their toll. The timber exteriors of the old bakehouse and post office have benefitted from recent efforts to preserve windows, sills, doors and shingle roofs, but their interiors are in varying stages of deterioration. The whitewashed stone walls inside one are leaning so badly that supports have been installed as temporary scaffolding. Where the stable and hay barn once stood is now a rectangle of stone pavers surrounded by a single rail-and-post fence.
In its heyday, this was a bustling hub of the community. In lieu of an official postal service in the area, James Wilson collected all the mail from the Lower Shannon and brought it to Steppes, where residents congregated to receive weekly papers and news of the wider world. The rector of the Bothwell parish conducted confirmations for Steppes parishioners in the Wilsons’ living room. The original old house was used as a school room, presided over by Miss Mary Wilson, after the newer house was built in 1888. The homestead was seen as an essential stop for every traveller in the Central Highlands.
Archived anecdotes paint a picture of a home full of books and mahogany furniture, sumptuous meals served with burnished cut glass and white napkins. Five children were raised here and floral paintings by the youngest Miss Wilson decorated some of the woodwork on the doors and fireplaces. The stables were “scrupulously clean” and visiting horses were given “as much unshaken oaten hay as she could put through her reducing machinery in an hour”. The garden boasted lilac, currant, vegetables and other fruits. The diverse birdlife of the region was noted by more than one visitor. In an account of their travels in November 1884, a “Special Correspondent” in The Mercury noted that “the bush is alive with bronze-wings, parrots, parroquots [sic], magpies, cockatoos, and many others. Eagles are a source of loss to the flock-master”.
Life in the highlands was tough and residents needed to be hardy, never more so in the face of injury. While drawing a cartridge out of a gun in February 1905, James Wilson accidentally set the gun off, wounding one of his toes in the process. A doctor from Launceston, luckily on a fishing expedition to the Great Lake, was summoned and managed to amputate the toe from the first joint.
Roads were poor, distances between neighbours were far and the weather was unpredictable. Snow, even in summer, was not unusual. Mr R Black, on a walking tour through the Highlands in January 1913, was pleased to overnight at the Steppes after trekking through snow and cold blasts. In October 1940, one of the Wilson sons, Archie, wrote to The Mercury that “after some extremely hot days, snow began to fall on Saturday evening, and on Sunday there were 18 inches of snow on the ground at the Steppes. Icicles 4 feet long and 2 inches thick hung from the caves of a shingled roof. One icicle had the exact formation of a 4 foot snake, with the head, tail, body, and markings of scales and stripes of a snake, but in crystal. It was a wonderful sight.”
When James Wilson died in 1922, his obituary described him as “one of the last of Tasmania's old pioneers” who had seen “much progress and many changes in the Lake country.” His family stayed on at Steppes, Mrs Wilson and the youngest of her daughters continuing to operate the post office and a telephone exchange well into the middle of the century. However, the world turns and life inexorably moves on. The horseback and on-foot adventurers who traversed this region in the 19th century have been replaced by cars that speed across the state and no longer rely on hospitable rest stops. When the last of the Wilsons, Madge, died at Steppes in 1975 aged 92 it was the end of an era.
While the property may now be empty, the legacy of the Wilson family carries on. James Wilson is recognised for introducing trout to the Great Lake in 1870 and fostering the resulting fishing and tourism opportunities. Trout are known to prey on native fish, frogs and crustacea. However, the magnitude of their impact on these species is uncertain due to a lack of baseline data from before the trout were released.
After he passed away, Wilson’s eldest daughter Mary requested that the former police reserve at the Steppes be gazetted as a bird sanctuary in his memory. This was approved in 1930, and subsequently extended in 1957 when Mary’s two sisters added their own private land to the reserve. Today, the Steppes Reserve continues to protect the natural and historical values of the region, and to safeguard the memory of the Wilson family.
Grace Heathcote is a Tasmanian writer. With a background in ecology and conservation, she has worked throughout Australia but has a soft spot for all things Tasmanian. Her writing has been published nationally, including in The Guardian, and her academic publications can be found in peer-reviewed journals such as Conservation Biology and Wildlife Research.
