01/08/2026
The Capital That Almost Was
At first glance, the attached is simply a map of Lyndhurst on the Blayney to Demondrille railway.
Look a little closer, however, and you'll notice something extraordinary.
Marked on the plan is the proposed borders of Australia's National Capital.
Today it seems almost unimaginable. Lyndhurst is a quiet village on the Central Tablelands of New South Wales. Yet, during the first decade of Federation, this small railway community stood among the leading contenders to become the permanent seat of the Australian Government.
Following Federation in 1901, Section 125 of the Australian Constitution required that the nation's capital be established within New South Wales, but at least 100 miles from Sydney. What followed was one of the most fiercely contested location debates in Australian history.
Dozens of towns entered the race. Bombala, Dalgety, Tumut, Yass, Orange and Bathurst all campaigned vigorously.
So too did Lyndhurst.
Unlike many of its rivals, Lyndhurst's greatest strength wasn't simply its location—it was the railway.
Supporters, led by local advocate Linden Biddulph, argued that Lyndhurst already occupied a commanding position on the railway network. Existing rail infrastructure, coupled with proposals for future inland railway connections, would place the town at the heart of a continent-wide transport system linking Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide, Broken Hill and, ultimately, northern Australia.
To Biddulph, the railway wasn't simply a way of reaching the capital.
It was the reason the capital belonged there.
His campaign attracted support well beyond the district. Member for Macquarie, Edmund Carr, devoted almost two hours in the House of Representatives advocating Lyndhurst's selection, arguing it offered productive farmland, building materials, coal supplies, an inland defensive position and unrivalled railway connections capable of serving a growing Commonwealth.
The campaign wasn't without fierce opposition.
Supporters of Tumut, Dalgety and other rival sites challenged almost every claim. Water supply, climate, scenery, engineering costs and transport all became subjects of heated public debate. Newspapers published competing pamphlets, local communities organised meetings and politicians travelled the country promoting their preferred site. It became one of the first truly national debates of the new Commonwealth.
For the people of Lyndhurst, the dream was very real.
Community socials were organised to promote the town's bid. Businesses embraced the excitement, believing their quiet village could soon become the administrative heart of Australia. Maps such as this one were prepared, identifying where the nation's capital might one day stand.
History, however, took another path.
The Yass–Canberra district was eventually selected, and Walter Burley Griffin's vision gave Australia the capital city we know today.
More than a century later, there is an irony that few would have imagined.
Not only did Lyndhurst miss becoming Australia's capital, but the very railway that was once promoted as one of its greatest advantages—the Blayney to Demondrille railway—has since closed. Where advocates once imagined Parliament, expresses and the centre of national government connected by a thriving rail corridor, today the line lies silent.
This map is more than a proposed city plan.
It is a reminder that history is never inevitable.
With a handful of different votes in Federal Parliament, Australia's Parliament House may never have overlooked Lake Burley Griffin.
Instead, it may have stood beside a now-closed country railway, in the small village of Lyndhurst.
One of Australia's greatest "what ifs."
