
Hartley, at the base of the hill, was a town designated by early settlers and the government as a future regional centre. Unfortunately, particularly for the residents of Hartley, it was by-passed by the railway and, over a period, fell into disuse. Today we are left with a remarkable remnant of a town largely unchanged since the mid-nineteenth century. It is no more than a couple of dozen buildings but all have been beautifully preserved. Hartley is located 133 kilometres from Sydney and 700 metres above sea level. By 1840 a town, with sixteen streets laid out in a grid system, had been surveyed. Most of this town was never completed. By 1846 there were 62 residents and 12 houses. By 1856, as a result of the gold rushes, the town had doubled in size. It was one of the major stopping points on the route from Sydney to the Turon goldfields and as a result it had butchers, blacksmiths, and hotels to serve the weary diggers and bullock drivers. Kerosene shale was discovered in the area in the 1860s. This enabled the production, within Australia,of paraffin oil and kerosene, which was quite a boon as most families, in those pre-electricity days, were reliant upon lighting from the cooking fire or, at best, candles. The discovery brought miners and their families and there were soon over 2000 people living in the area with shops, schools, farms and orchards in the area. The future of the town came to an abrupt end in 1869 when the railway line across the mountains was routed through Lithgow.
Shamrock Inn - The Shamrock Inn, the last building in the main street, was built in 1856 and enjoyed enthusiastic patronage from the miners who passed through Hartley on their way to the goldfields. It is notable for its large number of chimneys and the prominent sagging of the roof.
St Bernard's Church and Presbytery - Over the road is St Bernard's Presbytery, built in the late 1850s, which has been well preserved. Once a home for the priests who held mass at St Bernard's Church (1848), it is now a private residence. The church has a distinctive French influence which, it is believed, was the result of an enthusiasm for French religious architecture by one of the early priests. The sandstone altar was hand-tooled to look like marble.
The Farmer's Inn - The Farmer's Inn dates from the mid-1840s. Originally built as a house by the Finn family it became an inn to take advantage of the accommodation requirements of miners heading for the Turon goldfields. It has changed a number of times but at core it was built of sandstock bricks and shingles - both of which can still be seen.
Ivy Cottage - beyond the Farmer's Inn is Ivy Cottage. It was built in the 1850s by the Finn family and soon became the Police Magistrate’s house. It is claimed that the magistrate, whose major job seemed to be dealing with drunks, hated the location between the Farmer's Inn and the Shamrock Inn.

- american[bohemian] style
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These photos are the remnants of passed dreams, of passed hopes and of a failed attempt at creating a future town and ultimately a city. There are many other cities that had started out in the same way but somehow came to fruition. These are the places where on could sit and ponder. These are the places where one could travel back in time. The existence of these places today in a sense is in another time. The photos relay that sense and therefore are worthy of attention. Bravo! You have delivered the past to the future.
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These photos are the remnants of passed dreams, of passed hopes and of a failed attempt at creating a future town and ultimately a city. There are many other cities that had started out in the same way but somehow came to fruition. These are the places where on could sit and ponder. These are the places where one could travel back in time. The existence of these places today in a sense is in another time. The photos relay that sense and therefore are worthy of attention. Bravo! You have delivered the past to the future.
I always forget to log in but that is my interpretation. Thanks for sharing all that with us!
- Old Shot
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I return the thanks. There are such places where not even words could describe the sensation of awe that travels throughout the physical body. We as humans somehow connect with our ancestral past whether it be in a fire pit or a deep gorge in a primitive forest feelings of our ancient past come to our present state and remind us of our beginnings. Through photography we share these feelings with others around the world which is something that only be achieved in this technological world in which we live. One person alone could never in a lifetime accomplish all that is shared right here at photographica for we can't be everywhere all of the time. That is what makes this a special place. When I see a photo that I know in reality is beyond my capability to capture there is a sense of gratitude that I feel towards the photographer. Besides I hate the cold and I don't want to photograph icebergs and I wouldn't want to come face to face with a lion for a photo. These are tasks for the photographic brave unless you work at a zoo. So keep finding new and old things to share. It's great stuff!
- Old Shot
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- Out of Focus!!
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- Say...CHEESE
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- Enter a title...
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- A quack with an camera
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- Film-Junkie 4 Life!
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